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| Image Credit |
https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-dorset-18616933
Worth A Look
https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-dorset-18616933
Sixpenny Handley
Ho ho! The net draws in. Lucy Beach and her parents were from Sixpenny Handley - population: a few hundred - so they would have known the village pub landlord and his blue-eyed daughter in all likelihood, the one who married Isaac Gulliver. Lucy's father and mother were William and Alice Beach, and Thomas Beach was probably William's brother (see previous entry in regards Thomas Beach).
And! There are lots of Adams in the records, so this is likely another crossroads for a Cranborne connection too. Here's what A.R. had written to me a week or so ago:
Just an interesting snippet I gained from [Grandma's cousin] today. I was bringing her up to date with your findings, and when I mentioned Sixpenny Handley, she remembered a little thing that always interested her. Her father worked for the Post Office, and he either found out from there, or else went to Sixpenny Handley, and found out that the Post Office there was run by two spinster sisters by the name of Adams. So there were Adams all around the area.
This is the sum total of my findings for the weekend. I have also had communication from someone through this blog on the Caish/Hyde side and there may be more information coming from him soon. I have only just emailed him back - his message had come in days ago. Here's hoping he is a real person that we might be connected to, and not some other sort of internet-trawling party.
photo credit: http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/1868534
Tarrant Hinton
Off I trotted to see the Latter Day Saints two weeks ago. Alas, no one was there; the doors were all locked up and I couldn't see any sign of life in the sprawl of buildings. So much for the family research center hours of operation posted on their website. Clearly, I will have to call and speak to someone next week, but it will be a while before I get back there again as summer is in full swing with visitors and things happening.
And so I have been acquainting myself with Tarrant Hinton this weekend, the birthplace of Caroline Hyde's mother. [I have come to a complete dead end with Thomas Hyde, so have left him for later.] Caroline Hyde's mother was named Martha Caish, and she was baptized April 20th, 1767 in the church of St.Mary. The first record of a marriage involving a Cash/Caish/Cosh (the spellings vary over the years, but are clearly the same family) in the Tarrant Hinton records that survive was from 1753. This is the marriage of Henry Cash and Lucy Beach, who are Martha's parents. And the first Beach to appear in the marriage records is one Thomas Beech who married Hester Aishford in 1739 - Lucy's parents, presumably (still haven't checked this line). So neither of the fathers had been from the parish it seems.
There are eight little villages along the Tarrant valley all bearing the name of the stream, and Tarrant Hinton is the second one from the river's source, and virtually at the intersection with the ancient Blandford Forum to Salisbury road. And what lies just 6 or 7 kilometers further along the road toward Salisbury? The village of Sixpenny Handley, which is where Isaac Gulliver (1745-1822) married the daughter of the local inn keeper. If this smuggler relation named Captain Hyde was real, it is most likely that he would have been living in the time of these generations I am looking at now. Wherever Thomas Hyde was from, the digitization of the records related to him has not been done for that parish, because I can find no trace of him yet in my internet searches, beyond his marriage to Caroline Hyde. Which means that I have no idea who his father and brothers were either, any one of whom might have been the elusive "captain" himself. There is a Hyde Hill on the map very close to Tarrant Hinton though, I noted.
And so I have been acquainting myself with Tarrant Hinton this weekend, the birthplace of Caroline Hyde's mother. [I have come to a complete dead end with Thomas Hyde, so have left him for later.] Caroline Hyde's mother was named Martha Caish, and she was baptized April 20th, 1767 in the church of St.Mary. The first record of a marriage involving a Cash/Caish/Cosh (the spellings vary over the years, but are clearly the same family) in the Tarrant Hinton records that survive was from 1753. This is the marriage of Henry Cash and Lucy Beach, who are Martha's parents. And the first Beach to appear in the marriage records is one Thomas Beech who married Hester Aishford in 1739 - Lucy's parents, presumably (still haven't checked this line). So neither of the fathers had been from the parish it seems.
There are eight little villages along the Tarrant valley all bearing the name of the stream, and Tarrant Hinton is the second one from the river's source, and virtually at the intersection with the ancient Blandford Forum to Salisbury road. And what lies just 6 or 7 kilometers further along the road toward Salisbury? The village of Sixpenny Handley, which is where Isaac Gulliver (1745-1822) married the daughter of the local inn keeper. If this smuggler relation named Captain Hyde was real, it is most likely that he would have been living in the time of these generations I am looking at now. Wherever Thomas Hyde was from, the digitization of the records related to him has not been done for that parish, because I can find no trace of him yet in my internet searches, beyond his marriage to Caroline Hyde. Which means that I have no idea who his father and brothers were either, any one of whom might have been the elusive "captain" himself. There is a Hyde Hill on the map very close to Tarrant Hinton though, I noted.
What the Duce?
???
It was my first foray back into the family records this past weekend, and what did I find? That three girls were christened on the same day in Cranborne - May 15th, 1888 - with parents named George and Elizabeth Jane Adams. What on earth is this? I looked through the baptism records and could not find any other George Adams born after or near our George, nor could I find ANY other George Adams in the Cranborne censuses up to 1871. And how coincidental that this potential other George also had an Elizabeth Jane for a wife.
My suspicious side is taking over my confused side and beginning to smell a rather large rat. Could George have been leading a double life? Our George was in Bournemouth and legally wed to Isabella in 1888 and having children with her. Who are these girls (surely they were not triplets, but just all christened on the same day for some reason), and where do this other George and Elizabeth Jane Adams fit in if they are not the same ones?! There must be a logical explanation somewhere, because no one would be stupid enough to christen his children in his home village church if he was supposed to be married to someone else in another town, which everyone would have known about in little Cranborne.
One explanation that I'd already thought about when I couldn't find any record of death for Elizabeth Jane Adams, is that she did not die earlier, but was in an assylum/sanatorium (perhaps the marriage was annulled?), and so she might have had more children that George later adopted as his own, in law or name, that were christened in the church at Cranborne. It is all very interesting and potentially very sad.
Or - Occam's Razor - the simplest explanation is that there was another couple named George and Elizabeth Jane Adams living about the same time in Cranborne ... if only I could find such a George and Elizabeth Jane in the records. ANYWHERE.
Here are the three girls names: Lilian May Adams, Constance Ethel Adams, and Nelly Catharine Adams.
How will this all turn out?
Her Majesty's A Pretty Nice Girl
Undoubtedly, my feelings have more to do with the Queen as a powerful national symbol for my motherland, for a place of myth and fiction and shared history that is as compelling to me as the mythic and historic Elizabeth II is herself in a way. She is the one thing all of us have had in common, certainly for my whole life, as part of the backdrop of the times we live in. So, is the affection felt for her merely an overflow of goodwill based on tribalism, and the comfort of secure familiarity? Perhaps - if you are the sort of person that likes to go through life thinking in a state of reductive blandness. Without having come to a better conclusion after giving it thought this Jubilee Weekend though, I have nothing more to add but my own good wishes to the mountain of them already offered: Long Live the Queen! Happy Diamond Jubilee old thing.
Slow Return to Normal
Oh yes - and the new blog title is taken from "On A Fine Morning", by the Dorset poet and novelist, Thomas Hardy.
Change
I think the sea has thrown itself upon me and been answered, at least in part, and I believe I am a
little changed - not essentially, but changed and transubstantiated as anyone
is who has asked a question and been answered.
Hart Crane
After a sudden departure from all that was normal in my little life, and then a couple of weeks spent in the American mid-west and nearly 2,000 km in a car each way, I am home and back to the blog again.
And so, another dear soul has joined our ancestors. I hope that all of them had the good fortune to have had even a fraction of the love and esteem that Uncle Rob had in his life. Rich, indeed, would they have been.
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| Uncle Rob's Garden |
Loss
Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secum;
multa recedentes adimunt.
multa recedentes adimunt.
- Horace
(The years, as they come, bring blessings, and as they go, take blessings back again.)
Interesting Occupation Listings
Here are some interesting occupations I've found listed on 19th century census returns:
- Umbrella maker
- Cordwainer
- Gingerbread maker
- Photographist
- Medical Officer & Public Vaccinator
- Tobacco blender
- Ostler
- Fly proprietor
- Scripture reader
- Collector of Poors' Rates & Income Tax
- Staymaker
- Brush maker
- Fishing rod maker
- Corn Inspector
- Tallow chandler and soap boiler
- Percussion cap maker [ammunition]
Imagine living in a town where there is such a demand for gingerbread that you could have a career as a gingerbread maker. And to save you looking it up, a cordwainer was someone who made luxury shoes and boots out of the very soft 'Cordoba' leather from Spain.
I'll add to this list as I note other interesting occupations.
May Day
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| Photo credit |
On the same site, you can look at the "Memories" page for Cranborne, and one of the ancestors of the Adams that owned the shop when the picture was taken has written a note. He must be a third cousin 4 times removed, or some such thing. I'll have a look for the people he mentions and see where they come in. So far, I haven't gone forward with any of George's uncles and aunts and their offspring. It will be one of Thomas's brothers that was the shoe and boot maker, and his son(s) that took over from him.
Another interesting thing on this website is a note from a person who writes that he remembers seeing the Hindenburg (!) fly over Cranborne. I looked it up and found out that the Luftwaffe used the Hindenburg to do some reconnaissance photography while it was touring over southern England in 1936, and it is known that it flew over Portsmouth and Plymouth (the two main British naval bases), so it's entirely possible that the airship was spotted from Cranborne. I expect Portland Harbour would have been of great interest to the Germans too.
As it turns out, it is the 75th anniversary of the Hindenburg disaster in 5 days.
To the garden with me now. It has warmed up sufficiently to start on phase II of the fish pond relocation project.
Praise to Uncle Peter
Anyone reading this blog post on purpose, as opposed to randomly coming across it on an internet search, will know about my 'Orrible Uncle Peter. Well... I thought it was high time to give credit where credit was due, especially after mentioning him to a complete stranger in Dorset online yesterday, who I had contacted to use one of her pictures on the blog. I told her about him taking us around to all the family haunts last year, grumbling and protesting and wishing I had managed to learn to drive a manual transmission before descending upon him, etc. etc. But, in the end, it is to him that I now owe so much. In retrospect, it was remarkable how much I was able to see and get a little taste of that was pure magic.
| Cheers |
Hmm...
I was just looking again at that postcard picture o f Wimborne St. in Cranborne that I put on the last posting, and it looks like the shop with the man and boys standing in front of it might say "Adams". I increased the size and looked hard at it, but I could not tell. The Adams family in Cranborne counted tailors, boot makers, and other merchant folk among them, so it is more than a mere possibility.
That would be fantastic if there was a family shop right opposite the Fleur de Lys Hotel (a.k.a the Flower de Luce by the locals), which was mentioned in Hardy's Tess of the d'Urbervilles.
Oh, this is so much fun. Looking on Google Street View today, one can see that the old shop (Adams's or not) is now a veterinarian clinic.
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| Modern view of the Fleur de Lys Inn |
Photo credit: http://www.homesteadbb.free-online.co.uk/dorset.html
Copses and Coppices
Every time I look on a map for all the little Dorset places that are mentioned in my searches, I feel like I've zoomed in on the Hundred Acre Wood, or to a Wind in the Willows riverbank: there are dozens of copses or coppices- each with their own individual names, as though the groupings of trees had been there since the beginning of recorded time - surrounding every little hamlet and village I've looked for. This is charming in the extreme, though it tends to contribute to the irrational fantasy of this being a landscape unsullied by the modern world, and therefore even more appealing than it already is. It is probably the case that most people involved in geneaological research have to fight this glorification of the past at times, and for my part, I easliy slip into turning the countryside into Storybook England on a daily basis. Therein lies the pleasure of the enterprise though.
So, in my zigzaggity approach to this family history business, I have found myself firmly back on the Dorset mainland, leaving Portland for the future again for now. Metaphorically tramping across chalk downs (passing copse after copse), and into old churches and ferreting out little bits of information here and there is so enjoyable, and more and more things are connecting as I go.
Yesterday, I had a foray across Salisbury Plain to investigate another promising lead in the Unsolved Case of Elizabeth Somebody. While looking for something completely different, I discovered a record of marriage for a George Adams (father of the groom listed as Thomas Adams) to an Elizabeth Polkinghorne at the church of St.Thomas in Salisbury, in April, 1874. The Wiltshire Online Parish Clerks have not got around to the transcibing of the marriage records for that year yet, so I could not check the information from the LDS family search site against a primary source. In other words, there is still no confirmation of this. There didn't appear to be any other Polkinghornes around in those records, and it is a Cornish name, so who knows. |
 All rights reserved by http://www.flickr.com/photos/52430002@N02/ |
So, in my zigzaggity approach to this family history business, I have found myself firmly back on the Dorset mainland, leaving Portland for the future again for now. Metaphorically tramping across chalk downs (passing copse after copse), and into old churches and ferreting out little bits of information here and there is so enjoyable, and more and more things are connecting as I go.
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| All rights reserved by http://www.flickr.com/photos/52430002@N02/ |
Photo credits:
Isaac Gulliver
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| Isaac Gulliver |
It was to the Dorset smugglers, at last, that I turned my attention this afternoon, and although I had heard of the infamous Isaac Gulliver before, I was fully captivated today by this supposedly lovable character, mainly because of one particular myth, or embellishment, that is linked to him in every account. When Gulliver lived in Kinson, there was an incident in which he was only one step ahead of the excise men one time, and when he got home, he covered his face in chalk, and faked his own death by lying in a coffin, with his wife weeping mournfully over him when the men came knocking on the door.
This is just too close to the one handed down in our family to be a coincidence. Could our "Captain Hyde" have been one of Gulliver's gang members, and the tale got twisted in the telling? Or could the same ruse have been tried out successfully on some different revenue men by our storied relative? I strongly suspect we will never know the answer.
Gulliver had connections to Cranborne and Cranborne Chase, which, along with the New Forest, were the main hiding-and-dividing grounds (redistribution centers) of contraband for the coastal smugglers. So, if the Captain Hyde of lore is one of the Cranborne Caroline Hyde's family, then there is a possible point of intersection there. Gulliver died in 1822, so whoever our
Captain Hyde was, he would have to have
lived around the same time if we are to
assume that these men are connected.
Another nice little tidbit is that Gulliver habitually used Branksome Chine as a place through which to move his landed goods from the beach at Poole, then up through Pugs Hole in Talbot Woods.
For those family members reading this
that don't know about Pugs Hole, now
a public foot path, I must tell you that
it runs along the perimeter of Talbot
Heath School - that fine and famous
alma mater of dear old Mum - and a beautiful little spot it is too. And, it's
only a few blocks away from where
A.R. lives now.
The one overarching frustrating fact of all this family history business is that nobody kept any handed down written records through the ages. For the last five or six generations at the very least, family members have been literate, so what happened to all the letters, diaries, records of their lives? The same as everyone else's, I suppose: lost, destroyed, not considered worth keeping. Same old, same old.
Heh heh. My dogs both wag their tails in their sleep.
http://www.dorsetlife.co.uk/2011/12/bidding-for-success/
http://www.smugglers2010.co.uk/smuggling-in-bournemouth
http://www.smuggling.co.uk/gazetteer_s_13.html#fnB88
http://dorset-ancestors.com/?p=912
http://www.bbc.co.uk/dorset/content/articles/2008/04/04/kinson_smugglers_feature.shtml
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
Thank heavens THAT is behind me. For about 36 more hours, that is. And a Happy St.George's Day to all - and Shakespeare's birthday, and World Book Day.
Happily, I managed to snag an invite to a roast beef and Yorkshire pudding dinner chez M&P, so that was the perfect way to end this 7-day slog and celebrate the day in an appropriate fashion.
There is absolutely nothing of a genealogical nature to report this evening, as I am too cross-eyed to sit in front of a computer screen for much longer in order to do any research. My greatest wish at the moment is to return to that old technology, the book, and see if I can pick up where I left off with Dombey and Son a few weeks ago. I have set myself the task of reading the full Dickens' canon in this, his bicentenary year, but haven't progressed much in the last month. It may end up taking more than a year.
Captain Hyde
It's pouring with rain late this Sunday night, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. One more day to put in before a day away from hospital, patients, office, and all things orthopedic. I have been having dreams involving people with the wrong feet at the end of their legs, and Rottweilers being catapulted into my garden from the other side of the fence to harm my Retrievers. Clearly, I am in need of some solitude (in re my own species), working in the spring garden with peaceful dogs.
In spare moments snatched in the hospital library this weekend, I have been escaping from it all by trying to find any reference to a certain "Captain Hyde" relation that A.R. recalls as being famous in the family for being a smuggler. She wrote to me:
He was apparently married to a very religious wife, who prayed for his soul. There is a story that Gangan used to tell about him one time being pursued by the excise men over Bourne Heath (before it became Bournemouth), but, he managed to get home, where he dived into bed with his face covered in flour, so that he looked ill. I expect that the story got bigger and better with each telling... I personally remember him, as I once got good marks for a school project when we had to write about one of our forebears, and Gangan had just told me about the said Captain Hyde.
So far, no joy. But, I hope that somewhere, someone will have made reference to this man, so that we can locate A.R.'s story in time and place.
Betsy Trotwood Copperfield
A pause to marvel: this is the first view of the first member of the next generation of our family. He (as the ultrasound tech believes "him" to be) looks like he is made of chocolate, and I refuse to believe I am old enough to become a great-aunt until it is proven that he is made of the usual weave of human tissues - or frogs and snails and puppy dog tails.
And as these U/S techs are so frequently incorrect on the sex of the baby, I am afraid that assuming that I have a great-nephew on the way is still a bit silly. So, I shall call him Betsy Trotwood Copperfield for now and await confirmation in a couple of months.
Married, Missing, or Dead
In the not too distant future, all of the census records and church records will be more completely online, and searching for long lost relations will be such a simple thing from far away, compared to now. My poor, bug-eyed head is in need of a rest after only a couple of hours of research this evening.
Recently, my work days have been intense and long, and doing anything more taxing than sprawling in front of Lark Rise to Candleford DVDs with a dog on each side at the end of the day is proving to be difficult. Four more days to go before a day off still. Flah. As I watch Candleford, I wonder how similar the depictions of these villages are to somewhere like Cranborne, for instance, in the same time period. George Adams and members of his family were the postmasters and tailors and parish clerks, so it is easy for me to imagine the characters in Candleford as people similar to my own relations.
Today, I have been trying to flesh out Isabella's siblings before going back in time again. I might then go forward one generation with them, just to see where they all headed off to, or if they stayed in Portland. Chances are that more than just Isabella left the Isle from her generation.
To the couch with the hounds now though. Another early day looms.
Spring: Really This Time.
It's time for a break from the day's labors. Another glorious, hot spring day here has prompted me to get into the garden and make a start on the biggest project of the season: moving the goldfish pond. After emptying the water and debris from the pond in its old location today, I have moved all the plants that were in the future location, so that on my next day off, all will be ready for me to dig the new hole. Half the back-breaking work is finished.
I have added the information on George's sister, Caroline, to the Known So Far page. After the last posting on the subject, I found her marriage record: in November of 1864 she marries Thomas Head in Cranborne, witnesses are Thomas and Caroline Adams. It's a bonus when you get an extra little 'confirming' bit of information, like the witnesses being the parents.
All the windows are open in my house, and I can hear the sweet sound of a motorcycle revving down a street in the distance: a sure sign of spring established. Barring a fluke weather system, there will be no more snow and ice until November or December.
Yesterday, we went on a hawk migration observing expedition organized by the local birding group. There were a few world-class experts at the site, including my favorite brother-in-law, so for those of us who were comparative rank amateurs, it was a real joy to be there with them and learn all kinds of things about the Atlantic spring raptor migration. We were on a ridge with a 360-degree panoramic view at the north end of the Bay of Fundy, and there was all kinds of activity in the skies. And stopping at marshes, ponds and lagoons on the way to and from, we saw a lot more birds. I added several to my life list.
RMS Titanic
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| RMS Titanic departing Southampton on April 10, 1912 |
It's the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic tonight, and I cannot let it pass without a mention. At 11:40 pm ship's time (GMT -3), she hit an iceberg about 600 km south of Newfoundland. This is the moment, as I write (GMT -4), that it happened.
Apparently, this is a photograph taken by a steward on the Prinze Adelbert on
the morning of April 15, 1912 of the actual iceberg that Titanic struck - there
was red paint on it from the ship's hull along the waterline.
the morning of April 15, 1912 of the actual iceberg that Titanic struck - there
was red paint on it from the ship's hull along the waterline.
It looks so astonishingly innocuous.
Photo source of Titanic: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:RMS_Titanic_3.jpg
Photo source of Iceberg : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Titanic_iceberg.jpg
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