A year of mysteries

With Christmas around the corner, it's that time of year when we peer over our shoulders to look back at the months past. And glancing through my blog posts, I'm actually quite pleased at the one or two mysteries I've solved in 2017.

First, the mystery Mr Vincent, was finally unmasked. Not that I'm much closer to finding out why his photograph was amongst my family snaps, mind you, but it's still good to know who he is.

I still have a theory that he may have some association with the story about my great aunt and a lost love but unless I find someone to verify the connection, I fear it'll always be one of those unsolvable mysteries, on which I can only speculate. Which is a shame. But I shall keep trundling on. You never know...

January saw the "finding" of missing brothers, Charles Alfred Baker and Edward Ernest Baker, whose father, Charles Gabriel Baker had travelled to Australia in 1867 in the hope of a future in the colony, only for tragedy to strike when he died of consumption within 6 months of arrival.

When their mother Susan Baker returned to England after her husband's death, the four brothers were separated and I'd only managed to track the two younger boys... until this year, when I was contacted by a descendant of Charles junior and I discovered the elder brothers' fascinating story, involving desertion from the navy and jumping ship in Rio de Janeiro!

But there's still plenty of work left to do. For instance, why did my grandfather Herbert Colley post the banns of his wedding, twice, to a lady he never did marry? What was the book that Mr Baker was holding in his hand in that photograph of 1865? And what did Uncle Theo do in WW1? And that's only three questions. I'm sure many more will surface in the coming months.

For now, though, I'd like to update you on a previous post concerning the Mystery Percivals and the fascinating book charting the history of the Northampton branch of the Percival family (no relation, as far as I can tell).

I was recently contacted by the son of Brigadier E L Percival, a co-author of The Percival Book, after a member of the family had stumbled upon my blog. He told me that Lady Percival, who, at 92 had been the oldest member at the reunion mentioned in a paper inside the book, had gone on to reach her 100th birthday.

By a strange coincidence he lives in Devon, less than an hour away from where I live! We have exchanged emails and I plan to reunite him with his family's book at some point in the near future, which seems only appropriate.

Well, on that comforting thought, I've just time to thank you for dropping in on my blog. 

I hope you'll visit again soon to discover what family secrets I unearth and which mysteries I manage to solve in 2018.

Meanwhile, I'll wish you...

A VERY HAPPY CHRISTMAS and a PROSPEROUS NEW YEAR. 

The mysterious Mr Baker

You know how it is – the photo album full of photos and no names. But how about this? A named photograph, of a Mr Baker (yes, great, it matches the family name) but which one? There seemed to be none who fit. Or perhaps there is...



According to a very useful website I learned about recently called photolondon.org.uk , this photo was taken in 1865, when the photographic company who printed it were in operation at the address cited on the back.

Assuming the photograph was taken around the same time as it was printed, it should be easy enough to identify him. But therein lies a problem. I find it extremely difficult with old photos to guess ages accurately.

Apparently, I'm not alone. From the response I've had asking other family historians, it seems we tend to see our ancestors in photographs as being much older than they really are, so, at my estimate of around 40 years, I could be way off the mark.

As soon as I realised that, I got quite excited as it may mean that, perhaps, I can match him to someone on the tree, after all.

Mystery document

You'll notice that the gentleman in question is holding some sort of book or major document in his hand.  Has the photograph has been taken to mark the occasion of the document's publication, perhaps? But what could it be?

I decided to enlist the help of my fellow family historians on Twitter and amongst the responses, I received two surprises.

Firstly, the general consensus was that Mr Baker was younger than my estimate and so could conceivably be the man I hoped. And the other was the comment that he looked like a "typical Victorian composer" and suggesting that the document was a music score.

That was music to my ears (ouch! sorry...) as my hope was that this was a photograph of Charles Gabriel Baker, the professor of music who travelled to Australia but sadly died of consumption, aged only 32 (read the article I wrote for Family Tree magazine about his story HERE).

Teacher training

It seemed as good a prompt as any to explore more about his journey to becoming a music professor. Where had he learned his profession? Having been born in Marylebone, could it have been at one of the prestigious music colleges in London?

I knew Charles had begun his teaching career as a pupil teacher, as he's listed as such on the 1851 census. By the time of his marriage to Susan Sawyer in 1856, he's a fully fledged school teacher and by 1861, he's calling himself a professor of music. So what about the years in between being a pupil teacher and working as a teacher when he got married?

I made enquiries of the Royal Academy of Music, in Marylebone and the library assistant kindly checked her records but found nothing. She did explain, however, that the terminology of "professor" could be used quite freely and may be just another interpretation of "teacher." She suggested that I contact the Royal College of Music to see if my man attended there.

A fantastic find

But I never got that far, because on a whim, I googled Charles Gabriel Baker and to my astonishment, I found his name in a book published by The National Society – what a find!

The National Society was established in 1811 to promote, "the Education of the Poor in the Principles of the Established Church in England and Wales" resulting in the setting up of the well known National Schools across the country.

St Mark's College, Chelsea

Naturally, this endeavour required school teachers and so the society purchased Stanley House on the King's Road in Chelsea and founded St Mark's College for teacher training in 1841, which would later merge with St John's college in 1923 and move to Plymouth in the 1970s (now known as Plymouth Marjon).


Charles was one of their trainee teachers and the book I'd stumbled across was their publication listing examination results of the year 1854, when Charles was in his second year. It doesn't look as though he was an A1 student, though, as his name appears under the list entitled, Third Class. 

Students joined the college between the ages of 15 to 17 and if they passed their three month probation, they began their teacher training apprenticeship. Training took three years and, as well as the religious side of  college life – the core of The National Society's ethos – a diverse range of topics were covered, in addition to general education, such as the industrial system, the business of male servants in the house, managing the farm produce, and gardening. So, no mention of music. Perhaps Charles's music talents were already established via some other influence or had yet to be discovered?

Poignant

It was fascinating to add more to Charles's story, even though we know that fate was to deal him a cruel blow and that his teaching career, and indeed his life, would be cut short.

It would be lovely to think that the photograph really is of him. He looks like a friendly soul, don't you think? And that document – could it be a piece of music? He certainly looks very proud of it! Perhaps it will be one of those things we'll never find out.

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Maybe you have ancestors who trained at St Mark's college, Chelsea. You can check in The National Society's Forty-Third Annual report, 1854

You can find out more about the National Society HERE

Secrets revealed by tragedy

E. Ernest Baker born 1861

As is often the case in family history, as you dig around to clarify one set of facts, you stumble upon something totally unexpected, leading you down a completely new route of enquiry. So it's proved while trying to establish what happened to the two elder sons of Charles Gabriel Baker who died so tragically in Australia in 1868.

If you've read the sad story (and if you haven't, click HERE to download the article in Family Tree Magazine), you'll know that when Charles's widow, Susan, returned home to England, their four sons were separated. Of the four, the two younger brothers kept in touch but the two elder brothers, Alfred and Ernest, seemed to vanish from the records.

Discovered!

However recently I was contacted by Kelli, a descendant of the elder brother, (Charles) Alfred, and it emerged that both brothers ended up in Australia. My post Another mystery unravelled, told Alfred's story. This post was to tell of Ernest's fate but the story has turned out to be more intriguing than it first appeared. I'm indebted to Kelli for her help in unpicking the threads of what happened.

Early years

Let's go back to the beginning. Ernest was born in London and baptised at St Stephen's in Hampstead, as Edward Ernest (pay attention – you'll need to remember this bit as we go along). When his father died in 1868 Ernest was sent to the London Orphan Asylum in Clapton. It was at this point that I lost track of him but Kelli explained that in 1880, at the age of 18, he had accompanied his brother, Alfred, to Australia as crew members aboard the Durham. This explained why they'd not appeared on the 1881 UK census.

A new life in Australia

By 1884, Ernest had married Mary Wallace in Essenden, Victoria. The marriage index lists him by his full name, Edward Ernest Baker but interestingly he seems also to have added Morris for good measure, his younger brother's middle name. A tinge of home sickness, perhaps? 

Sadly, Mary died only a year later. On her gravestone, she's remembered as Mary (nee Polly Wallace) Baker, dearly beloved wife of E. Ernest M. Baker.

A year after Mary's death, in 1886, Ernest married again, to Catherine Isabella Stewart. This time the records show his name the other way around, as Ernest Edward Morris Baker, reverting to Ernest as his first name, as he'd always been known within the family. The couple went on to have a son, George Norman, born in 1887.

Accidental death

It isn't until the discovery of Ernest's untimely death 28 years later that it becomes clear that Ernest's life up until that point hadn't taken the path one might have imagined. But before I get on to that, let me explain what happened to poor Ernest in October 1914. 

It was while on a fishing trip with friends at Berembed Weir in New South Wales, on the Murrumbridgee River, when disaster struck. Ernest went into the river to recover an oar but slipped and fell into deep water. He became entangled in his clothing and despite being a strong swimmer, he sadly drowned. His body was recovered a few days later and a subsequent inquest recorded his death as accidental. 

Newspaper reports

In the press at the time, it was mentioned that Ernest (referred to as Mr E E Baker) was a widower, of several years. But on further investigation, it was clear that his wife, Catherine, nee Stewart, was still very much alive. So what had happened? 

His death certificate showed that his "wife" was not Catherine but Georgina Lindsay. While no record has been found of their marriage (Georgina was widowed in 1885, having previously been Mrs George Whaley Miller) her death was recorded as Georgina Baker and she'd died in 1907. Other sections of Ernest's death certificate, such as parents' names and previous marriage, were filled in as "unknown". Whoever provided the information to the registrar genuinely didn't know or was keeping schtum about Ernest's past! 

Dishonour

Further delving into the archives revealed that in 1901, Ernest, an Insurance Agent at the time, was gaoled for 6 months for embezzlement. Had this dishonourable behaviour resulted in Ernest and his second wife separating? Apparently not. Ernest and Georgina were already together by then, having had three sons before this date, Sydney in 1890, Harry in 1893 and Frank in 1897 – Harry and Frank obviously named after Ernest's younger siblings. 

Other newspaper reports tell of Ernest being sent to court for obtaining money by false pretences (writing a cheque which bounced) and on another occasion, an Edward Ernest Baker (note the name order – could this also be our man?) being accused of stealing a bottle of whisky from a hotel bar, which subsequently turned up hidden in a nearby culvert – though, it appears, not before Edward/Ernest spent a Saturday night in the local police cell!

Occupations

Ernest is recorded on the electoral roll of 1913 as being a journalist. We know he was an insurance agent in 1901 and the newspapers at the time of his death refer to him as an accountant. His death certificate states he was a labourer! He clearly had both a checkered life and a varied career.

I suspect there's still a lot more to unravel about the life of Edward Ernest Morris Baker. What did he do in England before he travelled to Australia? What happened between him and his second wife, Catherine? Was he really ever a journalist? Did he maintain contact with his family back in the UK? 

While there are some things we may yet discover, there are probably other questions for which we'll never know the answers. But, as ever, it's always fascinating following the trail.

Another mystery unravelled

Sometimes it takes a long time to uncover a mystery and it's always a thrill to finally discover the truth, especially when it's been something you've wondered about for many years.

During our research for Charles Gabriel Baker's fateful trip to Australia in 1867 with his wife Susan (nee Sawyer), ending in his death six months later, we discovered that on Susan's return to England, the couple's four sons were separated.

While Frank, the youngest, at only 3 years old, stayed with his mother, the others were sent to different orphanages and schools. (Read the tragic story in my article A Death Down Under, published in Family Tree Magazine in May 2016.)

Missing brothers

By 1881 the two youngest brothers, Frank and Harry Morris (aged 5 when his father died), had been reunited and were living with their mother. But I could find no record of Edward and Alfred on the census. What had happened to them?

The last piece of information I had was that Alfred (full name, Charles Alfred), had left school in 1873, aged 15, to join the navy. My blog post Lost at Sea? considered what his life might have been like on board at this time and I speculated as to whether he'd disappeared under the waves.

Then a couple of months ago, I was contacted by an Australian lady through this blog. I was delighted to learn that she was a descendant of Charles Alfred Baker. She'd been unaware that Charles Gabriel and Susan had come to Australia and was intrigued to hear their story. In return she was able to pass on what she'd researched about Charles Alfred and his brother, Edward.

Alfred in the navy

As I'd discovered all those years ago, Alfred joined the navy on the training ship St Vincent in October 1873. His service record, which I've accessed recently, lists each ship on which he served.

It also describes his appearance – 5 foot 5¾ inches high, brown hair, blue eyes, fair complexion and with a scar on his right wrist.

(Prior to joining the navy, Alfred spent a period of time as a shoemaker – and not a very good one, judging by the comments we found in the records. Perhaps he sustained the injury to his wrist with one of his work tools!)

Remarks on his naval records about his character range from 'very good' and even 'exemplary'  – until, that is, the very last entry when he's serving on HMS Penguin.

Here the assessment is only 'Fair' and in the next column, labelled If Discharged. Wither and for what

HMS Penguin
(courtesy of wikimedia.org)

cause, is written the word 'Run' and 'Rio de Janeiro.'

Deserter

So it seems, that after four years service, Alfred decided he'd had enough of naval life and jumped ship in Brazil.

Given his past excellent record, I wonder what happened to change his mind and take such a drastic step. Desertion was an extremely serious offence and those found guilty were subject to court martial and potentially a death sentence.

Tellingly, his name appears on a list published in London's Police Gazette in March 1878, under the heading, DESERTERS FROM THE MILITARY. 

But Alfred clearly didn't intend to hang around waiting to be picked up by the authorities. If indeed he did abscond in Rio de Janeiro, he somehow made his way back to England and tracked down his brother Edward, as two years later, both of them are recorded as crew members of a ship called the Durham, travelling to Sydney in March 1880.

Crew & passenger list for the Durham

New life

A year after arriving in Australia, Alfred married Charlotte Neil in Adelaide, and went on to have 5 children.

As for his brother Edward – well... his story, one with a tragic end I'm sorry to say, will be the subject of my next post.

Secrets in print!

As you know if you've been reading this blog for a while, my initiation into family history was the discovery of an Australian death certificate for my husband's ancestor, Charles Gabriel Baker.

I've mentioned him and his sad story in one or two blog posts in the past, but recently I decided to gather all the information I'd collated and write an article about the long trail I followed to uncover the truth about what happened to Charles and his family.

Having completed the tale, I decided to submit it to Family Tree Magazine and I was delighted when they accepted it for publication.

So, I'm thrilled to announce that the article appears in May's issue of the magazine,

which is out now!

Here's a taster of the first page of my article, beautifully presented by the editing team across 4 pages.

If you'd like a copy of the magazine to hold in your hot, sticky hands, WH Smiths stores generally stock it, or you can download an e-version direct from Family Tree Magazine's own website.

Otherwise, you can learn something about Charles Baker's story from these previous posts:

1. About the amazing information on his death certificate in Death and its secrets
2. How he met his wife, Susan Sawyer, in Romance in the Records
3. Speculation as to why he went to Australia in Ancestors in the Spotlight

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So what's next...

Having concluded my 4 part story of The Shocking Truth about my wayward ancestor Thomas Shelley and his housekeepr, I've now got to decide what's the next family secret to uncover and share with you in future posts! Mmmmm..... let me see....

Convict mystery - the full story

My second Esme Quentin novel, The Indelible Stain, published on 26th September, was inspired by reading an article about researching convict ancestry.

The Indelible Stain

So it seemed appropriate in this post to write about the Percival black sheep and transported felon, to whom I dedicated the book - Moses Percival.

I am indebted to John Priestley, with whom my husband shares a great-great-grandfather, William Percival, as it was he who passed on Moses’ story. William's father James was Moses' elder brother.

Moses’ story starts ordinarily enough. He was born in 1802 in Great Tey, Essex, to parents Edward and Susannah Percival, one of 13 children. He started at the village school at the age of six, learning at least to  write his name, for in 1826 when he married Hannah Rayner he was able to sign the register.

Moses was recorded as being a ploughman and likely came from a family of agricultural workers. By 1831 he and Hannah had baptized three children and it was at this point that Moses disappeared from the parish records. When Hannah remarried in 1844, the assumption was that Moses had died, though there was no record of his burial.

It wasn't until some time later we discovered the truth, that in 1831, Moses was convicted of the theft of a sack of barley. The Chelmsford assizes records of 7^th March make particular note of his crime as being the theft of barley… and a sack. Perhaps, I mused, if he’d have brought his own sack along to steal the grain the punishment wouldn’t have been so harsh!

However it turns out that, according to the records in Kew, that the sack had been stolen on a separate occasion, after the barley! So, it being a 'second offence', may explain why Moses was sentenced to fourteen years exile to Van Diemans Land, present day Tasmania.

image courtesy of Ancestry.com

 

Moses spent the first three months of his sentence on board the hulk ship, Cumberland before being shipped across the world on 11^th June on the convict ship the Larkins, arriving in Hobart on 19^th October.



An example of a 'hulk' ship
image courtesy of en.wikipedia.org

His description is recorded (for identification purposes, should he abscond) as 5ft 5½ inches tall, brown complexion (possibly tanned from sailing through the tropics on the voyage), small head, brown hair and eyes, small whiskers, a large mouth, thick lips, a long chin and a mole on his cheek.



The book in which Moses' description is recorded
image courtesy of Archive Office of Tasmania

Unless convicted of a violent crime, most convicts were put to work rather than being incarcerated and Moses is recorded as working for Mr Andrew Tolnie or Tolmey. He was granted a free pardon on 31^st May 1838, having served only half of his sentence. No doubt his willingness to work hard, coupled with good behaviour were contributory factors in his early release.

Moses continued in the employ of Mr Tolmey after his pardon, as a horseman. His name appears in The Hobart Town Courier newspaper later that year, announcing his rounding up of stray cattle at the public pound in a place called Jerusalem and declaring they would be sold by him if not claimed by their owners.

Business was going well and soon Moses had made enough money to buy 50 acres of land and a quantity of stock.

But sadly, he had little time to enjoy his freedom, as a few months later in early 1839, he was injured when a tree fell on him and crushed his leg. The leg became gangrenous and he died.

Mr Tolmey, clearly an honest man and, it would seem, aware of Moses' family back in England, wrote to Moses' wife Hannah to tell her not only of the death of her husband, but to inform her that she'd inherited the value of the land Moses had bought, worth between £200 and £300. Quite a considerable sum at that time to someone of her modest means.

I wonder whether, had Moses lived, the family planned to join him for a new life in Van Diemans Land. I guess we'll never know.

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There’s a postscript to this story which links neatly with the photograph of the "Mystery Mrs Percival", photographed making Coggeshall lace in the 1950s, the subject of an earlier post. But more on that next time.

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A useful starting point for researching your own convict ancestors, including those transported to America as well as Australia, is The National Archives website  where you can read various helpful research guides on the subject. 

For information on crime and punishment or to read the details of past trials, go to Old Bailey Online which holds some fascinating stories.



Midwinter Blog Hop

It's 21st December!

Time for the Midwinter Blog Hop!

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A Murder of Crows

Convict chain gang in New South Wales

A couple of generations ago, the discovery of a convict ancestor was considered a terrifying prospect which haunted any reputable Australian citizen. Robert Hughes, in his book The Fatal Shore, likened it to an individual "perched like a crow" on what might otherwise be a 'respectable' family tree.

In more enlightened times, the idea fascinates and intrigues us and we want to know more about the circumstances in which those ancestors found themselves.

The Percival 'crow' was called Moses, a ploughman with a wife and three children, born circa 1805 in Great Tey, Essex. In 1831, he was sentenced to 14 years exile in Van Dieman's Land - modern day Tasmania - for stealing a sack of barley.


Over 165,000 convicts were transported to Australia between 1789 and 1868 when transportation ceased. Moses fell victim to the Georgian perception of criminality, that society could rid itself of the 'criminal classes' by sending them off to some distant land.

Having lost America as a destination for its exiled convicts following the American War of  Independence, Parliament was under pressure to find an alternative destination. England's gaols and hulk ships - rotting decommissioned vessels used as extensions to the country's prisons - were full to overflowing and the situation was becoming dire. Inmates even rioted in protest at the intolerable conditions.

The hulk 'Discovery', at Deptford

Desperate for a way out of the crisis, the authorities finally allowed themselves to be swayed by favorable reports that Botany Bay satisfied their criteria of having fertile soil, a good climate, fresh water, pasture and an abundance of fish - an over optimistic assessment which the first settlers would learn to their cost. It would take years of hardship and near starvation before the colony learned how to tame the unfamiliar land and feed itself.

In the penal 'system', convicts served out their sentence providing free labour for landowners and other settlers in the colony. Well behaved prisoners would be given a 'ticket of leave' which allowed them certain freedoms, and once they'd served their time, a pardon would be issued and they would become free settlers. Those who were less cooperative suffered harsh treatments - the wearing of leg-iron, flogging or dispatch to one of the stricter penal colonies such as Norfolk Island which gained a brutal reputation for the way it treated its inmates.

Moses Percival's convict record noting his pardon in 1838.
An empty page suggests he was a model prisoner with no misdemeanours recorded!
(courtesy of Archive Office of Tasmania)

After gaining their freedom, prisoners often remained in the colony to make a new life for themselves and this appears to have happened to Moses Percival. He worked for Mr Andrew Tolnie for some years, receiving his Pardon in 1838, after serving only half of his 14 year sentence. But there is no record of him returning to England and in 1844 back in Essex his wife, Hannah, remarried.

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If you want to find your own 'crows', there's a wealth of information on Australian convicts on the Internet.

A good place to start is Australia's convict records.

Jen Willets's website lists many convict ships, some with the names of the convicts on board, including in some cases, reports of life during the voyage to the colony recorded by the Ship's Surgeon, who was responsible for the welfare of the prisoners.

Convict Central has stories of individual prisoners, the plight of women convicts and a comprehensive list of links to other research sites.

Ancestry.co.uk has a wide selection of criminal records to search, including a link to Bedfordshire & Luton Archives for the Bedfordshire Gaol Index which gives description detail about prisoners from 1770-1882.

If, like Moses, your felons ended up in Tasmania, their archive portal gives you access to records where you can also view digitized images of actual documents.

Happy hunting!

Death and its secrets

Death certificates are often overlooked by family historians. Once a death is identified in the index, its mere existence giving the where and when, is usually sufficient in its own right.

But the death certificate can reveal useful information and this was never more apparent than when I discovered a real gem in the aforementioned "box of old documents in the attic".

In 1868 in England and Wales, the facts to be found on a death certificate would be:

• name, age, sex and occupation of the deceased
• address at which he or she died
• cause of death
• date of death and of its registration
• name and address of the informant

The discovery of an Australian death certificate, issued in the district of Paddington, New South Wales in 1868, amongst our treasure, however, as well as being a complete surprise, (no one in the family had ever hinted that an ancestor had travelled to Australia, never mind lived there for a period of time) revealed considerably more than any death certificate had it been issued in England.

As we deciphered the copperplate handwriting on the folded piece of paper, a sad story unfolded.

Charles Gabriel BAKER, aged 32 and born in London, England, was a music teacher. He'd arrived in the Australian colony 6 months before, in November 1867, but for the past 2 years had been suffering from a chronic lung disease. Sadly, on 15th May 1868, while living in Vernan Street, Woollahra, near Waverley, his condition finally killed him. His death was confirmed by C. Muller, the medical attendant who had seen him last on 3rd January that same year.

Charles had  been 21 years of age when he married his wife Susan, nee Sawyer, in Essex, England . The couple had had 6 children; 4 boys were still alive but a boy and a girl had since died. Charles's father was Gabriel Baker, a valet, and his mother was Jane, nee Vyner.

Charles was buried at Haslam Creek  on 17th May 1868, the undertaker being C Kinsella and Son. His burial was witnessed by Henry Kinsella and Henry Abbott and Reverend Young, a Church of England minister, had performed the funeral.

Henry Gale, registrar, confirmed the document to be a true copy of the register of deaths in his office, signed it and dated it 10th June 1868.
  

How much more we family historians would learn about our ancestors if UK death certificates had been as thorough!