Tag Archives: genealogy

Cancer, Colic, Chest Complaints & Constipation: Causes of Death

Following my Birthplace Pedigree post, I’m turning my attention to a more macabre topic: a Cause of Death Pedigree.

Victorian Headstones – Photo by Jane Roberts

This is based on evidence provided in death certificates, so is time limited to after the introduction of General Registration in July 1837. Burial entries in parish registers have provided a cause of death for some of my ancestors prior to this date. However, given the small numbers this applies to and the fact these are normally reserved for “unusual” deaths, for the purposes of this exercise I decided against including them.

As it is based on the General Registration period it goes beyond the popular five generation format for my English lines. For my Irish ones I’ve had much less success. The other tweak is I’ve started with my grandparents as, thankfully, my parents are still alive. Something I didn’t think would be possible this time last year when my dad was living under the shadow of a terminal cancer diagnosis and given a matter of weeks to low months to live. That turned out to be a misdiagnosis, only discovered 12 months later…..but that’s a whole new story.

I’ve also gone beyond a simple cause of death. I’ve included ancillary conditions listed on the death certificate. I’ve also included an age and year of death to see if the length of my ancestor’s lives improved in line with medical and public health advances. Where I have no proof of birth date I have accepted the age of death given on the certificate, although for some I do have doubts. If I know the age is definitely wrong on the death certificate, through other documentary evidence such as a birth certificate or baptism entry, I have amended it to reflect my ancestor’s correct age at death.

I’ve created separate charts reflecting the lines of all my grandparents. Those charts containing Irish ancestry are significantly shorter than the ones for my English branches.

The first, for my paternal grandmother, is one such example. This is very limited in terms of cause of death information. As yet I’ve to trace death certificates for three of my four Irish 2x great grandparents.

Cause of Death Pedigree grandma Hill 2

Chart 1: Paternal Grandmother Cause of Death Pedigree

The next charts (2a and 2b) reflect the causes of death in my paternal grandfather’s line. His is a mix of English and Irish ancestry. Because of the size I’ve split this one in half. The cross-over point is my 3x great grandparents, who feature in both parts. Hopefully this makes things easier to read than a 17th century document!

Cause of Death Pedigree grandad Hill 3a

Chart 2a: Paternal Grandfather Cause of Death Pedigree

Cause of Death Pedigree grandad Hill 3b

Chart 2b: Paternal Grandfather Cause of Death Pedigree

The next set of charts are for my maternal grandmother, a purely English line. Again, given the size, I’ve split this into two parts. My 3x great grandparents are the cross-over point featuring at the end of  3a and the start of 3b:

Cause of Death Pedigree nana Callaghan 1a

Chart 3a: Maternal Grandmother Cause of Death Pedigree

Cause of Death Pedigree nana Callaghan 1b

Chart 3b: Maternal Grandmother Cause of Death Pedigree

The final pedigree chart is another Irish one, my maternal grandfather’s ancestors.

Cause of Death Pedigree grandpa Callaghan 1

Chart 4: Maternal Grandfather Cause of Death Pedigree

One feature I was pleased, and surprised, to see is the relative longevity of both my maternal and paternal lines. I’m hoping that holds true, given my impending surgery. The average age of death for mum’s line is 71 and dad’s 66, far higher than I anticipated before doing this analysis. It illustrates yet again childhood was the most dangerous period. By their very nature direct line ancestors survived till adulthood – and mine seemingly fared well in the longevity stakes.

The range of death causes, particularly on dad’s side, also struck me. Looking at his line the most common death cause appears to be general old age. And sticking with this branch, in terms of diseases traditionally associated with Victorian England, phthisis (TB) struck a couple of ancestors, and that was it despite living in increasingly urban areas of Yorkshire.

Of note is the ovariotomy resulting in the death of my 3x great grandmother in 1881, a procedure with a lamentable success rate in this era. In fact, controversially during this period, an ovariotomy could be performed to remove normal ovaries, not just for treating diseases such as cysts and tumours.  This practice started in 1872 and it became the fashionable treatment for menstrual madness, pre-menstrual syndrome, neurasthenia and “all cases of insanity“. The practice of removing normal ovaries was supported by distinguished gynaecologists and psychiatrists, becoming one of the great medical scandals of the 19th century.

Turning to mum’s side, other than general old age, chest problems feature prominently. Some are occupational, but others are definitely not. These range from bronchitis and pneumonia to long term conditions such as asthma. There are also a number of possible stroke-related deaths. The diabetes-related death of my great grandfather has health repercussions in the family today. And once again there are very few of those historic infectious diseases particularly associated with the 19th century. There is a single case of typhus.

A few other quick points, not rocket science but amply illustrated in this “cause of death” sample:

  • the imperfection of diagnosis in the 19th century. Not a shock, given my 21st family example. But it’s interesting to see concrete demonstrations back then. One of my ancestors has a death certificate which actually states “1 day ill, cause not known“.  Another certificate stated “cramps“;
  • linked to these diagnostic limitations, perhaps some of these cases of old age, general debility and natural decay, as well as prostate gland enlargement, masked other illnesses such as cancer. Cancer started appearing in death causes for my family in the early 20th century, particularly on my paternal line;
  • illnesses manageable or treatable today, such as bronchitis, asthma and diabetes, were fatal back then. Some other conditions are curable. One of my ancestors died of an obstruction in the bowels from costivenes (a word for constipation). Again an imperfect diagnosis, possibly cancer, but potentially eminently treatable in the 21st century; and
  • despite the passage of time and medical advances, my oldest ancestor in this sample died in 1852 age 96. So luck plays a part.

I’ve found this exercise particularly worthwhile and informative on a number of levels. Apart from the causes of death and ages, it has highlighted there are three English death certificates on my maternal line I need to track down. So a genealogical help, encouraging a critical review of information and information gaps. Also, looking to the future, there are definite identifiable illness susceptibilities which feature in the descendants of these ancestors today. So potentially a medical help.

My “Holey” Birthplace Pedigree: The (Bad) Luck of Irish Ancestry

Everywhere seems awash with birthplace pedigree charts based on the one created by J. Paul Hawthorne. His template can be found  here: http://bit.ly/1RjfZEZ

So, as a bit of Easter fun, I thought I’d have a go at my own. I’ve modified his template and created two charts. One for my dad’s origins:

Birth Pedigree Dad

Paternal Birthplace Pedigree

The other is for my mum’s side of the family:

Birth Pedigree Mum

Maternal Birthplace Pedigree

What strikes me is how geographically constrained my family is: a mix of Yorkshire and County Mayo on both maternal and paternal sides. Only in the 18th century does my English family extend beyond the Yorkshire boundaries – and then only into County Durham and Northumberland on my paternal side. This is beyond the scope of the generations on the charts. This is why I’ve made an adaptation, to include the birthplace and year. Otherwise my chart is way too boring – and I haven’t broken the geographical mould. Guess it’s an illustration of how wonderful Yorkshire is!

The  other notable feature illustrated in the chart is the challenging nature of discovering my County Mayo ancestry. Whereas I can extend my English roots back to the 18th and, in some cases, 17th century there is no such luck with my Irish side. From the 1850’s onwards things are difficult with my County Mayo ancestors, but no real brick walls. Prior to this date it’s a real struggle. In fact I only know the names of two of my 20 Irish 3x great grandparents, and can only assume they all hailed from Mayo. And I’ve had to make that birthplace assumption for six of my 2x Irish great grandparents, based on the fact it’s their location in the earliest records I can find for them.

So I’m very envious of those who can fill in all their pedigree chart ancestral locations, many covering a wonderful array of almost holiday-like destinations. Sadly my birthplace pedigree chart will never match that, even in the unlikely event of tracing my Mayo roots.

 

 

What a Difference a Year Can Make – Calendar Confusion

I spent last week recording data on my Family Historian software, ticking off another of my genealogy New Year Resolutions. It included a raft of 18th century parish register entries. Entering the information I was reminded of one of my early family history basic errors which I need to re-visit in my family tree file.  I recorded a swathe of entries under the wrong year.

In my first enthusiastic rush into ancestral research I totally failed to appreciate the calendar change of 1752, the amended start to the year and the implications of this. In fact in those early days I probably didn’t even know a calendar change occurred.

I couldn’t understand why some dates didn’t fit, with babies being baptised at the beginning of March 1747 to couples who married in April 1747. I thought I’d unearthed a family scandal, but there was no hint of illegitimacy in the normally brutally censorious registers.

I assumed the calendar back then was the same one in operation today, with 1 January marking the start of the year. How mistaken I was.

I subsequently discovered from around the 12th century in England the year started on 25 March, Lady Day. So, for example, the day after 24 March 1747 was 25 March 1748.

Not until 1752 did the year start on 1 January, as a result of the 1750 Calendar Act and the 1751 amended Act. Also known as Chesterfield’s Act, it brought the start of the new year into line with England’s European neighbours and ones even closer to home: Scotland adopted 1 January as the official start of the year from 1600.img_0595

It meant that in England 1751 was a short year to take account of the change. It started on 25 March and ended on 31 December.

1752 also had a reduced number of days, as this Act moved England from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar used by many European countries. It meant September 1752 was reduced to 19 days, with 2nd September being followed by 14th September. These lost 11 days were a result of a correction to an anomaly in the Julian calendar.

Chesterfield’s Calendar Act Extract

The Christian world throughout the Middle Ages used the Julian calendar. Based on a 365 day year with an extra day every fourth year it was devised to to ensure seasonal stability in an agrarian society.

But here’s the simplified scientific bit. The 365 ¼ days of the Julian calendar cycle did not accurately reflect the time taken by the earth to rotate the sun. It was too slow. Only fractionally. Less than 11 minutes annually. But it made the calendar too long. Another way of looking at it is there were too many Leap Years. However the cumulative effect of this discrepancy meant by the 16th century the year was 10 days ahead of where it should have been relative to the earth’s cycle. Significantly, apart from any agricultural seasonal impacts and the affect on navigation, for the Catholic Church there were implications for Easter.

Corrective action was needed. Enter Pope Gregory XIII who in 1582 enacted a papal bull introducing the new calendar, named the Gregorian calendar. This omitted 10 days to bring things back into line with the earth’s solar cycle. It also included a mechanism around Leap Years to account for the actual length of a year in future. From now on Leap Years only occurred in the last year of the century if their first two digits could be divided by four (ie/ only in 1600 and 2000).

Religious politics now came into play. Catholic states generally fell into line using the new calendar. Protestant countries such as Britain and Ireland and its colonies (such as the USA) resisted – they did not wish to follow any Papal edict. But gradually, given its obvious agricultural, commercial, legal and international relationship benefits (for instance by the 18th century what was 20 June in France would be 9 June in England), uptake increased.

By the time England came round to accepting that the benefits of the Gregorian calendar outweighed any religious reluctance, it was 11 days out of sync. Hence the missing 11 September days in 1752.

img_0596

But even with the 1751 Act things aren’t straightforward as far as the New Year is concerned. I’ll use some West Yorkshire parishes associated with my family history to illustrate this.

Leeds Parish Church complied with the Act and entries on 1 January displayed the New Style year of 1752. This also applied to Kirkburton All Hallows and Mirfield St Mary’s.

However it wasn’t universal. Some parishes were behind the pace.

One such example is St Peter’s Birstall. The combined baptism, marriage and burial register acknowledged the September change. An entry at the beginning of September 1752 stated:

September hath 19 days this year

Then, after a baptism entry on 2 September:

According to an Act of Parliament passed in 24th year of his Majesty’s Reign in the year of our Lord 1751 the Old Style ceases here and the new takes place and consequently the next Day which in the old account would have been the 3rd is now to be called the 14th so that all the intermediate Days from the 2nd to the 14th are omitted or rather annihilated this year and the month contains no more than 19th Days as the Title at the Head expresses”.

Birstall St Peter’s Parish Register Explanation for September 1752 Calendar Changes

No similar note mentioning the New Style calendar affected the start date of the year. This part of the Act wasn’t implemented on 1 January 1752 in Birstall. The New Year in this parish register did not start until Lady Day in March. In other words no difference.

1 January 1753 came and there was a tiny entry, a mere nod at the change. Almost imperceptibly tucked away in miniscule script. Certainly no fanfare announcement along the lines of the September change.

Birstall St Peter’s Parish Register Low-Key Entry for January 1753

Contrast that with the shouty heading marking the first post-Lady Day christening of 1753. By 1754 though they were fully towing the line.

Birstall St Peter’s Parish Register Fanfare Entry Post-Lady Day 1753

The neighbouring Parish of Batley similarly adopted the New Style from 1 January 1753 rather than 1752. The register does briefly explain the September 1752 issue, but without the pointed remarks about “annihilation” of days.

So some parishes implemented the Act with the year starting on 1 January from 1752. And from my unscientific example others didn’t adopt the change until 1 January 1753, seemingly grudgingly. Others, however, even went beyond this.

Wakefield All Saints’ register retained the Old Style up up to and including 1755, with the change only made from 1756. There may be examples of other variations if I delve deeper. And there may even be instances of it pre-January 1752, as acknowledgement of the difference did occur in documents prior to the official change.

To sum up even knowing the year change was supposed to take place on 1 January 1752, it still pays to check the register if at all possible to ensure the switch did indeed take place on the prescribed date. And accurately record the year to indicate whether the date is Old Style (O.S.) pre-calendar change or New Style (N.S.) post-change. I use a “double dating” format for those 1 January to 24 March days prior to the calendar change. So, for example, I record 23 March 1747 O.S. as  23 March 1747/48. This indicates the event took place in 1747 according to the O.S. calendar, but 1748 in the N.S.

After all that year could make a big difference to your family tree and subsequent research.

Sadly (?) I don’t think I’ll progress my family history to pre-12th century to concern myself with any calendar in use then.

Footnote:
I’m not going as far as adding in the “annihilated” 11 days to my Family Historian package à la George Washington’s Birthday though! Born on 11 February 1731 according to the then-used Julian calendar, with the adoption of the Gregorian calendar the corrected date celebrated is 22 February 1732. But that this may have happened is worth noting too.

A Bit of Good News

In my post Education, Education, Education I said I would be embarking on an online course, “Searching for Wills and Administrations in England and Wales”. This was my final module in the Pharos Tutors and the Society of Genealogists Family History Skills & Strategies (FHSS) (Intermediate) with Certificate programme.

I completed the module at the end of February and I’ve now received the result. I’m pleased, and relieved, to say it was a distinction. Relieved because, having achieved that level in all the other modules, I didn’t want to slip up at the final hurdle. And it means that overall I’ve passed the FHSS Certificate with distinction.  

 I can definitely recommend the Certificate. I’d been researching my family tree for about seven years prior to undertaking the courses, but I discovered there was so much I hadn’t considered.  

Apart from having a lot of fun in a wonderfully supportive environment, I’ve learned so much about a broad range of records across many aspects of family history research. But beyond these sources, the certificate courses helped me focus on the importance of research planning as well as critically analysing and interpreting the records, putting them into their historical context.  

As a direct result of implementing the knowledge and skills I’ve gained through the Certificate, I’ve made many breakthroughs in my own family history research. The “Wills” module was no exception. I hope to write about this latest brick wall demolition in the coming weeks.  

So now I’ve completed the FHSS Certificate I’ve to decide on my next steps. Do I want to push on with my genealogy education? Do I want to take on more research for others than I do currently? If so what are the options? The Pharos Tutors/Society of Genealogists Advanced Certificate? IHGS? Or a University of Strathclyde or Dundee course? Can I even commit the time to further structured learning, given I have a “day job, albeit part-time? Or do I take a step back and concentrate on my own research? I’ll decide in the coming weeks. Possibly after “Who Do You Think You Are? Live

A Shout Out for Libraries – A Family History Gateway

My local library has been so much a part of of my life I can’t imagine a world without it. It has been there at all stages: from the magical joy of childhood stories; to the text and reference books for my school studies; the escapist pleasure of novels transporting me to different worlds, times and places from my armchair (or bus seat); and full-circle taking my own little girl to choose her first books.

But more than that: 10 years ago it provided my gateway to family history. 

When I took my first tentative family history steps, they took me to the familiar surroundings of Batley library. There I got used to operating the microfilm and microfiche readers to look at the local censuses, newspapers, parish registers and cemetery records. There I practised deciphering old handwriting and making transcripts and abstracts.

image

Batley War Memorial & Library – Jane Roberts

In those early novice days I don’t think I would have dreamed of going to West Yorkshire Archives. The prospect was far too daunting. It would be full of experienced, serious researchers. Not a place for a “newbie” like me who didn’t have a clue what a microfilm reader was, let alone how it worked.  

I felt far more comfortable going to my local library where I knew the staff. And they had endless patience showing me what records were available and how things worked. 

Their holdings provided a very local focus. Beyond the newspapers and parish registers they had those peculiarly local resources, often provided by researchers with a love of and affinity with the area. From the card index of local War Memorials compiled by Christopher Frank, (I still don’t know who he is but I’m eternally grateful to him because it was through his index that I had the jolting realisation that one of my ancestors was on the Memorial, a fact never mentioned by the family), to the research piece by Janice Gilbert on “The Irish in Batley”.

Even now my local library is a go-to family history research location. It is still the place for local newspapers – neither “The Batley News” or “The Batley Reporter & Guardian” are on the British Newspaper Archive or FindMyPast. Not all West Yorkshire Parish Registers are on Ancestry. There are resources such as Batley Cemetery Records, Batley Borough Council minutes, Directories, Batley Grammar School Magazines and various programmes, brochures and memorabilia from a multiplicity of local events. Then there is the wonderful Soothill War Register which I wrote about in a recent post.image

One of my particular library favourites are the annual Reports by the Batley Borough Medical Officer of Health. I briefly referred to them in “A Short Life Remembered“. They provide a fascinating and detailed insight into all aspects of health, disease and social conditions of my Batley ancestors: from school-by-school statistics of Batley children, to breakdown of causes of death; from birth rates and infant mortality to incidence of infectious diseases. I find them an invaluable source for giving context to the times, lives and deaths of my ancestors.image

They even have free computers, Wi-Fi and Ancestry access! 

The impressive Batley Market Square library building is steeped in history. With funding from philanthropist Andrew Carnegie it opened to the Batley public in 1907. I imagine my ancestors browsing through the thousands of lending and reference library books or catching up with latest local, national and international events in the newspaper room. And over a century later I am researching the lives of those ancestors in the very same building.

In an era of Government spending cuts and their knock-on impact on Council funding for services, libraries are easy targets. “My” library was a fundamental first step up the genealogy tree all those years ago; and it is just as relevant for me today. I do so hope that such valuable community hubs, important at all stages of life, are not lost. 

Given the subject it seems appropriate to post this on World Book Day.

A Short Life Remembered: Margaret Hill

Immersing myself in the lives of my ancestors inevitably means dealing with their deaths. Lots of them. Because I invest so much time in my research, that connection with my ancestors goes way beyond the simple bloodline link. Learning about their lives and struggles, I develop an emotional attachment. Discovering their deaths, which were occasionally under traumatic circumstances, can stop me in my tracks. And whilst not quite moving me to tears it can bring a lump to my throat. I’m not sure if this is a common feeling amongst other family history researchers.

The deaths of children can be particularly difficult. They never had a chance to make a mark, achieve their potential, fulfil their parent’s hopes and dreams, marry and have families of their own. But for family history research, many would be forgotten for ever. One of my first blog posts, A Census In-Betweener, was one such example. It remembered the all too fleeting existence of Thomas Gavan, my great grandmother Bridget Gavan’s eldest child. Towards the end of the year another post focused on the tragic accident in which Oliver Rhodes died. He was the son of my great grandparents Jonathan Rhodes and Edith Aveyard.

Victorian Headstone for a Child – Photo Jane Roberts

This year I intend to write a series of blog posts commemorating more of the briefer lives of those in my family tree. This is the first. It marks the short life of Bridget Gavan’s youngest child, Margaret Hill. But for the 1911 census I would never have known about her existence. It was news too to other family members, something I find difficult to comprehend. After all it wasn’t that long ago.

In this post, as well as describing what little is known of her short life, I will try to give a flavour of the times in which she lived.

In 1897 Bridget Gavan married coal miner John Herbert (Jack) Hill. Jack was a widower, Bridget an unmarried mother of two girls, though it is possible Jack was the father of the younger of the two, Agnes.

Jack and Bridget went on to have seven further children. Margaret, their final child, was born on 29 August 1910 in the family’s home at 16 New Street, Hanging Heaton. The family now totalled nine children ranging from newly-born Margaret to eldest Annie, who celebrated her 17th birthday the day before Margaret’s arrival.

The 1911 census shows the complete family unit. It is notable for Jack and Bridget’s judicious tinkering with names and dates. Interestingly they claimed to have been married for 17 years, which conveniently corresponded with the age of Bridget’s eldest daughter Annie who is listed as “Annie Hill”, not Gavan. Daughter Agnes, also born outside of wedlock, is similarly listed as Hill and not Gavan. All nine children are claimed as “children born alive to present marriage”. There is also the usual flexibility around adult ages to minimise the gap between Jack and Bridget’s ages (she was born in 1869).

In terms of events during Margaret’s short life, 22 June 1911 marked the coronation of the new King, George V, and his wife Queen Mary. A cause for celebration with parades, parties, decorations and a bonfire to mark the occasion. And in December that year the Liberal Government introduced a National Insurance Act. It meant for that workers would have cover against sickness and unemployment. So there was perhaps some optimism as the things seemed to be on the up for families like Jack and Bridget’s.  But this may have been tempered as a result of industrial action the following year, and its affects on family income.

Miners were notoriously militant with frequent strikes. The records of the Yorkshire Miners Association (YMA) show in the latter part of the 19th century and early into the 20th Soothill Wood, the pit where Jack worked, was one of the more non-militant and politically moderate pits. Nevertheless, although being characterised in district ballot votes as non-militant it was conversely, even then, regarded as particularly “strike prone”.

Just a glimpse through newspapers show for instance strikes were threatened in 1892 over amongst other things distribution of corves. A short strike took place in 1894 over reduction of wages. Outside this period, a lengthy strike took place in 1906 affecting not just Soothill, but wider throughout Yorkshire. And in 1912 there was a national strike, lasting five weeks, the objective being a national minimum wage.

The national strike began in February, Britain in the grip of yet another severe winter with temperatures plummeting and thousands dying of hypothermia. Heavy snow fall had affected Yorkshire at the end of January. A strike was the last thing Britain needed at this particular time. As a result of the action more than a million people were out of work.

Although the outcome was not as profitable as the miners wanted, hewers in the Batley area, such as Jack, were guaranteed a minimum daily wage of 6s 8d, subject to clauses around for example age and attendance, although some employers did try to flout this.

Then another 1912 Soothill strike in early July resulted in 72 men being summoned to appear in court that month  – just a small fraction of the hundreds involved.

A newspaper report in 1918 stated the wages of a Soothill Wood Colliery averaged of £2 13s a week. But this needs to be seen in context of the economy at the time. Since the beginning of the war to 1916 there was an estimated 45 per cent reduction in the purchasing power of foodstuffs. Soothill Wood is more accurately described as a low to average pit in terms of wage level during the period 1894-1918.

So although the Hill family were not in the poorest category, life would still be a struggle full of difficult spending choices to make. Balancing how much to spend on rent against food and other essentials such as coal (although this would be cheaper than the norm given Jack’s job), lamp oil, gas, wood, candles, matches, soda and soap (a particular high usage item for a mining family), blacking and transport costs. And if you went for cheaper rents, these houses would be smaller, damper and darker resulting in higher expenditure on fuel and lighting, not to mention being more detrimental healthwise.

The family would weigh the affordability of burial insurance against the risks of not having it. As we saw in the story of Thomas Gavan, Bridget was minded to take out insurance, but was this still the case with a much larger family?

Then there was clothing and boots. Could they afford to put aside weekly in a clothing or boot club, or were they faced with the hit of paying it all upfront as and when needed? The school log book for St Mary’s, the school the Hill family went to, has accounts of children not being sent to school for lack of boots during this period.

And then there would be budgeting for emergencies such as medicine and doctor’s bills.

As for food, for the working class it was bland and monotonous, the emphasis being on staving off hunger rather than nutrition. Men, the breadwinners, had the most. They needed to be fit and strong to go out to work, especially for a manual job such as Jack’s. The principal article of diet in this period was bread which was cheap and convenient. It was followed some way behind by potatoes, meat and fish. Meat was principally bought for the men, with the main expenditure being on Sunday dinner when the entire household would be at home. Cold cuts from Sunday would be eaten on Monday, eked out longer if possible. When potatoes did not feature, the replacement would be suet pudding with golden syrup. There would be the occasional egg, and tiny amounts of tea, dripping, butter, jam, sugar and greens.

Milk, although crucial for children in particular, was costly. There were also issues of storage to consider in these years before refrigeration. A pint of milk a day for an infant or child would equate to around 1s 2d a week when the food for a whole family may have to be supplied out of 9s a week after all other household expenses were taken into account. As a result women nursed their babies as long as possible, often until they were about one year old. After that often the only milk children got was tinned evaporated milk, this despite it not being recommended for infants. This tinned product was used in tea, and sometimes also used as a spread on bread. Where boiled milk was given to babies and infants it was often thickened with bread and biscuits in an attempt to bulk it out. In 1916 the local Coroner censured such a practice in the inquest of the baby son of a fellow Batley St Mary’s parishioner. But the reason why infants did not get milk was the same reason they lacked good housing and clothing – it came down to cost and family finances. In short the diet where there were several children in a family, such as the Hills, would be chosen for its cheapness and for its filling, stodgy qualities.

All of these considerations may have played a part to some extent in Margaret’s death.

On a national scale one event dominated 1912. British confidence was shaken in the spring when news reached home of the unthinkable, the sinking of the “Titanic” on 15 April, with the loss of more than 1,500 lives. Headlines screamed out from billboards and newspapers – day upon day of grim news. Deaths included those of bandleader and Dewsbury resident Wallace Hartley, with tales of how the band played on adding to the whole pathos surrounding the event.

There were perhaps some particular highlights to the Hill’s year though. On 10 July 1912 following much preparation and accompanied by great excitement King George V and Queen Mary visited Batley. A three minute ceremony in the market square was attended by around 4,000 school children hoping to catch a glimpse of their monarch. However, it ended in disappointed children and much indignation on the part of parents and teachers when many failed to see the Royal couple, such were the crowds and the swiftness of the event. Margaret was too young, but some of her siblings may have taken part and returned home dispondant.

It is also doubtful whether the event took Jack’s mind off the Soothill Wood Colliery strike which culminated in those July court cases.

On a more personal family level one event dominated the year – the marriage of Bridget’s daughter Annie to Lawrence Carney on 30 November 1912.

So things ticked over until 4 August 1914, when a life-changing announcement was made which would affect many families nationwide: Britain declared war on Germany. There now followed a period of intense hardship and sorrow for many families including the Hills, now living at 2 Yard, 2 Victoria Street in the town’s Carlinghow area. But that was still to come.

With the war in its infancy and family members, such as Lawrence, now serving in the military, tragedy closer to home struck the family. On 9 October Margaret, died age four, as a result of tuberculous (TB) meningitis. She was one of only nine people in Batley Borough to die of this illness in that year.

TB meningitis typically affected children under ten years of age. It was especially associated with improper feeding, malnutrition, poor hygiene or childhood illnesses such as measles and whooping cough. Caused by tuberculosis bacteria invading the membranes and fluid surrounding the brain and spinal cord, it usually began with vague, non-specific symptoms such as fatigue, listlessness, loss of appetite and headache. The afflicted child became peevish and irritable. Vomiting and constipation followed along with a dislike of lights and sound. As the headache intensified the child would scream with a peculiar cry and display classic neck stiffness. As the disease progressed seizures occurred, the child lapsed into a coma and eventually died. Horrifically Margaret suffered these symptoms and decline over a period of three weeks.

1914 Mourning Dress Advert

Apart from the tragedy, such an event was crippling financially to already hard pressed families. A child’s funeral alone could cost upwards of £2, including a death certificate, funeral costs, flowers, gravediggers, hearse attendants, a woman to lay the body out, and a black tie for the father. Most families took out burial insurance. This cost on average each week 1d per child, 2d for a mother and 3d for a father, though some overcautious women paid more. So for the Hill family, with their flock of children, this would amount to a weekly sum of just over 1s. But even with insurance a burial plot may not have been affordable.

Batley Cemetery – Photo Jane Roberts

This proved the case for the Hill family.

Margaret was buried on 12 October in a common grave in Batley cemetery, echoing the fate of her eldest half-brother Thomas Gavan.

Sources:

  • Batley News
  • Batley Reporter & Guardian
  • Batley Cemetery Burial Records
  • Batley Medical Officer of Health Reports
  • GRO certificates – Birth and Death certificates for  Margaret Hill
  • The History of the Yorkshire Miners 1881-1918” – Carolyn Baylies
  • The History of Batley 1800-1974” – Malcolm Haigh
  • Round About A Pound A Week” – Maud Pember Reeves
  • St Mary of the Angels School Log Book
  • FindMyPast – 1911 Census

 

Shropshire, Staffordshire, Shrouds & Shoes: Striking a Light on the Captain Webb Connection

In Shropshire, Staffordshire, Shrouds & Shoes I said I’d start to piece together my husband’s family tree. The project was inspired by my mother-in-law. She was very enthusiastic about it and retained that enthusiasm throughout. But sadly, as her health deteriorated, I found it wiser to quietly drop my research. I found she was becoming so involved she could no longer distinguish between past and present, fact and false memory. An example was frantic phone calls and threats to summon the police in the middle of the night because she had time-travelled. She was convinced she was back in the 1950s. It turned out she’d dug out some old newspapers before going to bed, woke up in the early hours, started reading them then saw the date.   

Things reached crisis point at the beginning of December when she was admitted to hospital on a long-term basis. In hindsight her detention has been a blessing as we now have a definitive diagnosis, Alzheimer’s, and she is finally able to access the correct treatment. 

She is now is out of hospital, the illness has truly taken hold, and she is no longer has her own home. In the process of clearing it we discovered more family papers which I will go through in due course, once things have settled down.  
But initially they have solved one mystery: the Captain Webb connection. He of the English Channel swimming fame. Even as far back as the early 1990s my husband had insisted they were related. He wasn’t sure how. 

My preliminary research yielded no obvious link. There was a common surname. My husband’s great great grandmother was Mary Webb. She was born in Adbaston/Flashbrook area of Staffordshire in around 1830. She married Joseph Haynes at Aston in Edgmond, Shropshire, on 10 February 1859. Joseph founded a wheelwrights business in Stone, Staffordshire. But I could see no link. However, my mother-in-law’s papers seemed to indicate Mary Webb was the supposed connection.  

In her possession was a “Nostalgia Notebook” article from the “Staffordshire Newsletter” dated 28 October 2004. It states that Joseph’s wife “Mary was believed to be the sister of Captain Webb…..”  

Captain Matthew Webb was the son of surgeon Matthew Webb and his wife Sarah Cartwright Garbitt. They married in 1845. Matthew was a bachelor, aged around 32, at the time of his marriage. Their second son, Matthew of the swimming fame, was born in Dawley, Shropshire in around 1848. He was baptised in Dawley Parish Church on 9 March 1848 and the entry is annotated with the words “Swam the English Channel August 25 1875”. 

In contrast Mary Webb’s baptism took place on 7 March 1830 at Adbaston Parish Church, Staffordshire. She was the daughter of William Webb, a wheelwright, and his wife Ann.  

Baptism entry for Mary Webb

 Her father’s name is confirmed on her marriage certificate. It is also detailed in various newspaper marriage announcement columns, including the “Wolverhampton Chronicle and Staffordshire Advertiser” of 16 February 1859. This goes on to say for 12 years she had been a valuable and faithful servant for William Sillitoe Esq., The Bridge, Newport. The 1851 census shows her as a house servant in this household. 

“Wolverhampton Chronicle & Staffordshire Advertiser” marriage announcement for Joseph Haynes & Mary Webb

 
I’m not ruling out a Webb connection further back. But if the link was supposed to be as stated, that my husband’s great great grandmother was the sister of Matthew Webb, it is false. As a result, my husband’s claim to family history fame seems to be on very dodgy ground with the flickering match flames rapidly extinguishing. And the Webb family have one bunch fewer kinsfolk.    
So be prepared when you start out looking into your family tree – you may end up disappointed and learning things you’d rather be oblivious to! 

Sources

  • Find My Past – newspapers, censuses & Shropshire & Staffordshire Parish Registers
  • Staffordshire Newsletter” – 28 October 2004

Obsolete Mayo Family History Website: Wayback Machine to the Rescue

In a couple of my blog posts (My County Mayo Family and The National Library of Ireland Catholic Parish Registers Website and Parish Registers: Brick Wall Breakers and Mystery Creators) I’ve referred to one of my much loved, and missed, websites. It was a County Mayo baptism and marriage transcript site, EastMayo.org, launched in 2005. Mainly using LDS films, it’s aim was to provide a free facility to researchers of family history in East Mayo. It concentrated on “that area of County Mayo encompassed by the Roscommon border and the towns of Charlestown, Boholo, Swinford, Kiltimagh, Knock, Claremorris and Ballindine”.  

 The transcripts included:

  • Aghamore 1864-1883 and Knock 1869-1905 Baptisms; 
  • Aghamore Marriages 1864-1882; 
  • Claremorris Civil Registrations 1872-1875; 
  • Claremorris Marriages 1806-1890 and Baptisms 1835-1912; 
  • Kilconduff Marriages 1846-1878; 
  • Kilmovee Baptisms 1854-1910 and 1881-1913; 
  • Kilmovee Marriages; 
  • Kilmovee Marriages Out of Parish; 
  • Knock Marriages 1883-1943 

With generations of my family from the Catholic Parish of Kilmovee, this site was a Godsend. I was disappointed when it disappeared. Although in 2015 the National Library of Ireland launched its free Catholic Parish Register website plugging some of the gap, the EastMayo.org had a broader date range for its limited number of Parishes.   

And there were some extras such as the fabulous “Kilmovee Marriages Out of Parish” transcriptions. Basically, if someone married out of Parish, the priest in the Parish the marriage took place contacted the priest in the person’s baptismal Parish informing them. 

I’ve seen something similar in the Batley St Mary’s registers. These contained such letters slipped between the pages. Indeed in this Parish, the priests went so far as to annotate the person’s baptismal entry with their subsequent marriage details, whether the marriage took place in or out of Parish.  

The Kilmovee transcripts covered marriages in the first part of the 20th Century, with marriages taking place within Ireland and beyond. Although only a snapshot of around 30 years, the Batley marriages of my grandpa (John Callaghan) and his brother (Martin Callaghan) are captured in them. 

An example of the global range of these marriages is seen in the initial transcriptions. They included former Kilmovee parishioners marrying as far afield as Glasgow, Batley, Orange – New York, Stockport, Congleton, Manchester, Doncaster, Accrington, Huddersfield, Charlestown, St Helens, Jersey City – USA and Silver Falls, Canada.  

Information on these Out of Parish marriages varied, but could contain: 

  • spouse; 
  • baptismal date (a bit of creativity here – most of the dates given seem to be approximate); 
  • parental details, with sometimes the mother’s maiden name; 
  • date and place of marriage (church and location);
  • witnesses; 
  • officiating priest; 
  • age; and  
  • if the person is widowed. 

The information provided linked your ancestor to a Parish. It also enabled you to track back further, for example by looking at the baptism transcripts.  

Yes, there were acknowledged transcription difficulties, but it was a wonderful resource.  

An updated EastMayo.org site domain name still exists with links to Irish-related websites, though it is not the original site with all that wonderfully name-rich information. But all is not lost. The original, as it stood between 2006-2011, can still be accessed via the Internet Archive Wayback Machine. 

And I’ll end with another really useful County Mayo website, which can be found here. Besides current day information, including where to stay and things to do, there is information about the area’s history, geography and culture generally as well as that of individual towns and villages. There is also a message board which may be helpful for those with Mayo roots.

Education, Education, Education: My Family History Learning 

My blogging output may decrease over the next few weeks as I’ve scheduled some time for learning.

On 23 January I started my latest Pharos Tutors online genealogy course, “Searching for Wills and Administrations in England and Wales”.  I’ve completed several Pharos courses and find this online learning method works well for me, fitting around work and family commitments. This will be my final module in their Family History Skills & Strategies (Intermediate) with Certificate programme. The explanation about how these certificate courses work is here.    
I’ve also booked three (free) National Archives webinars scheduled for March. These are:

I participated in their 1939 Register webinar at the end of 2015. It was really informative and the technology was easy to grasp worked well, prompting me to book more. So I’m converted to this form of learning. This, and previous webinars, can be found online. Their programme of events is here.

And to complete my latest foray into the world of family history education I’ve enrolled on a  FutureLearn course, “Genealogy: Researching your Family Tree”. This again is an online course, running for six weeks with a time commitment of around four hours per week. The course is a University of Strathclyde one, so I have high hopes.

The course description is to:

……. help you develop an understanding of the basic genealogy techniques and how to communicate your family history. We will consider how to effectively find and analyse sources and explore the potential of DNA testing as applied to genealogy. We’ll help you add historical context to your family history and discuss how to record and communicate research findings in a clear fashion”.

I’m particularly interested in the DNA angle. Hopefully it will stimulate me to return to my stalled genetic genealogy journey, referred to in three blog posts from last year:

This will be my first FutureLearn course, so I’m quite interested to find out how it works and if the learning style suits me as they have a number of other courses I’d be very interested in.

So the “keeping informed” element of my genealogy New Year’s Resolutions  is progressing nicely.

I Left it too Late: Batley’s Greenhill Mills Destroyed

Thank goodness no-one died, but even so I am feeling quite emotional about this. On 14 January a massive fire ripped through Greenhill Mills, Grange Road, Batley razing it to the ground.  

Apart for the sadness for those who will have lost their jobs, it was a place very much associated with an ancestor, Jesse Hill, who died in WW1: the ancestor I have spent most time researching. 

That connection has now gone, wiped out in a matter of hours. 

The firm Jesse Hill worked for, Wrigley & Parker, went into liquidation in the late 1920’s and the mill was sold. But it was still the same building. 

The mill was only down the road from me. I kept meaning to photograph it but I never got round to it. And I never made the effort to see inside, walk on the wood floors, touch the stonework. I know that sounds odd, perhaps it’s a family historian thing. 

Unlike many other places connected with my family history, because it was on my doorstop I didn’t have to make a special trip. It was there, I’d do it one day, no rush. A Victorian structure, still being used. It wasn’t like it would disappear overnight…..or so I thought.  

Following the inferno of 14 January, that’s exactly what happened.   

Not sparing the time to take that handful of photographs to record Jesse Hill’s workplace is something I now very much regret. As is never seeing the interior. It’s example of how we take for granted our local and family history.  

So a lesson learned the hard way. Don’t put off the chance to visit a family history connected location; don’t put off talking to family to record memories. Because one day you’ll wake up and realise that chance has gone. 

This is the only photo I took – too late.  

The remains of Greenhill Mills

 
Neither does Jesse Hill’s Spurr Street home exist. 

Spurr Street, Batley