Dorcas Vant c1798-1844

 

Dorcas’ Life:

Dorcas Vant, my 3x great grandmother, was born around 1798 in the quiet parish of Westwell in Kent, the daughter of Edward Vant/Vaunt and Sarah Chambers. She was baptised 2 Feb1799 in St Mary’s Church, Westwell.  The last name is written as Vaunt.

Westwell is nestled at the foot of the North Downs, just four miles north of Ashford. The village has been mentioned as early as 858 and appears in the Domesday Book. By Dorcas’s time, it was a quiet agricultural community, its heart marked by St Mary’s Church, a 13th‑century building surrounded by ancient yews. The Pilgrims’ Way, the medieval route to Canterbury, ran nearby, so Dorcas grew up in a place where history and faith were woven into the very landscape.  Life revolved around the church, the fields, and the changing seasons. She would have grown up in a world where children were expected to help from an early age—working in the fields, tending animals, or assisting their mothers with household tasks.

At twenty years old, Dorcas married Henry Tilbee in Westwell.  Henry was a young labourer from nearby Charing. He had been Henry was born there in about 1798.

 They settled in Charing, a larger village just a few miles away. Charing lay directly on the Pilgrims’ Way and had long been a stopping point for travellers heading to Canterbury. Its most striking landmark was the Archbishop’s Palace, once a residence of the Archbishops of Canterbury and even visited by Henry VIII. The parish church of St Peter and St Paul stood beside it, anchoring the community. By the 19th century, Charing was still primarily agricultural, with Henry working as an agricultural labourer, one of the most common occupations in Kent.  It would have meant long hours in the fields, low wages, and dependence on the harvest. Families like theirs lived close to the edge, often supplementing income with seasonal work or parish relief.

The census for 1841, 1851 and 1861 they are shown as living in Charing.

Dorcas and Henry raised six children in Charing.

 William Tilbee (c.1820– )

1. Alice Tilbee (1826–1877)
• Baptised: 3 Dec 1826, Charing
• Married Samuel White in 1842
• Lived in Egerton, Kent
• Died 14 Mar 1877, Egerton (cause: diseased lungs/bronchitis)
• Buried: 18 Mar 1877, Egerton
2. John Tilbee (c.1829– )
3. Louisa Tilbee (c.1831– )
4. George Tilbee (1834–1912)
5. Stephen Tilbee (1837–1921)

Their daughter Alice, my 2x great grandmother later moved to Egerton, a village perched on the Greensand Ridge with sweeping views across the Weald. Egerton was known for its scattered farmsteads and its 13th‑century church of St James, reflecting its deep agricultural roots. The oldest surviving houses in the village date from about the fifteenth century.  Other children remained closer to home, marrying into local families or moving to nearby parishes. In 1851 Alice was living with her husband, Samuel, in Stonebridge to the north east of Egerton village centre.   

Just a few miles south lay Ashford, the market town that increasingly shaped the lives of surrounding villages. Ashford had been a market centre since the Middle Ages.

Dorcas’s life spanned turbulent times for rural Kent. The Swing Riots of the 1830s erupted in her county, as labourers protested against low wages and the spread of threshing machines. The Poor Law Amendment Act of 1834 meant that parish relief was harder to obtain.  The relief shifted from parish-based outdoor aid to the dreaded workhouse system. Families like the Tilbees would have lived with the constant threat of destitution and institutionalisation.

Henry died in September 1866 in Egerton, leaving Dorcas a widow.  In 1871 she was a visitor at a property in Charing, near the Gas works.

 She lived on into her late eighties, recorded in the 1881 census back in her birthplace of Westwell. She died in November 1884 in the Westwell Union Workhouse.

A Letter from my grandmother

 

A Letter from Annie White, 1950

My dear children yet to come,

I pray this letter finds you in good health and good heart, though I know it will be many years before your eyes fall upon these words. Still, I write as though you were near, for in truth you are always near to me—in my thoughts, in my prayers, and in the quiet hopes I carry for the future.

Life for me at present is modest and plain. I live in a small two-room bedsit, where each day begins with the sound of footsteps in the rooms below and the clatter of kettles being set to boil. To fetch water for drinking or washing, I must go down a flight of stairs to the floor below, where the tap and bathroom are shared by all. It is no great hardship, though in the cold mornings it does test one’s resolve and I try to save money by not lighting my paraffin stove. I work as a parlourmaid, and my days are ordered by the rhythm of service—polishing, dusting, laying fires, and tending to the needs of others. There is satisfaction in keeping things neat and proper, though it leaves little time for one’s own pursuits, particularly as I walk to and from my place of work.

On Sundays, when I have a little freedom, I sometimes meet with other servants—some from my present household, others from places where I once worked. These gatherings are simple, often just a walk or a shared cup of tea, but they bring comfort and a sense of belonging. My own family ties are few. I keep in touch with only one sister, for I was long ago estranged from the rest after an unfortunate incident in my youth. That loss has weighed heavily on me, and though I seldom speak of it, I know it shaped the path I have walked. At times, I wonder if I hardened my heart too much, or if I might have found a way back to them had I been braver. It is a sorrow I carry quietly, and though I have learned to live with it, there are moments when the ache of it still finds me.

Perhaps it is why I have clung so firmly to duty and to faith, for they have given me the steadiness that family might otherwise have provided.

At this moment, I face a choice that weighs upon me. There is talk of moving to another household for work, one that promises steadier wages but would take me farther from the familiar streets I know. Security is tempting, yet the thought of starting afresh in a strange place fills me with unease. Such decisions are never simple, but I remind myself that courage is not the absence of fear, but the will to go on despite it.

I have been fortunate in my employers, who have treated me with kindness and respect. Once, I even received a bequest from a former master, a man who had served as mayor of Hastings. Such gestures remind me that even in service, one’s efforts are seen and valued. To be thought well of is no small thing, and I take pride in knowing that my work has earned trust and regard.

What sustains me most are the values passed down through my own kin: the importance of family, even when scattered; the strength of faith, which steadies the heart when the world feels uncertain; and the belief that honest work, however humble, has its dignity. I hold fast to traditions—Sunday service, a simple meal and walks.

I do worry, at times, about what lies ahead. The war is behind us now, yet its shadow lingers in rationing, in the faces of those who lost so much. I wonder what kind of world you, my descendants, will inherit. Will it be kinder, freer, more just? My dream is that you will not only have more comforts than I, but also more opportunities to learn, to travel, to live without fear.

If I may offer you a word of encouragement, it is this: never forget where you come from, for roots give strength even as branches reach toward the sky. Cherish one another, for family is a treasure beyond measure. And do not be ashamed of humble beginnings—often it is in the smallest rooms, with the simplest meals, that the truest love is found.

And now, as I close, I cannot help but wonder about you. Did our family prosper? Do you still tell our stories, and remember the names of those who came before? More than this, I hope you have found ways to mend what I could not—that the divisions of the past have softened, and that love has bridged the gaps where once there was silence. If so, then my heart is lighter, knowing that what was broken in my time may be whole again in yours.

With all my heart,

Your grandmother,
Annie White

This is a work of fiction penned by Co-Pilot after my original prompt and revised with more information from me.  It made me feel emotional about the memories it invoked.

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Frank Horace Weston - Shooting as a hobby

  

There are many newspaper reports of Frank shooting in the local Miniature Rifle Club competitions in Robertsbridge, Sussex, England in the period 1909 and 1915.  He enlisted in 1916.  

He was an excellent shot - 49 bulls eyes in succession!!!

Sussex Agricultural Express 3 Sept 1915

He was a member of the Robertsbridge Volunteer Training Corps which were part of the local defence organizations formed in Britain during the early 20th century—especially around the time of the First World War.  He was also a member of the Robertsbridge Miniature Rifle Club.

In one of the competitions in 1913 he won a silver spoon with a crest headed Society of Miniature Rifle Clubs as per the image. The handle of the silver spoon had a motto of the Society – Look Forward. 

Image from the Spoonplanet website

Following a merger with The British Rifle League in 1903, The Society of Miniature Rifle Clubs (1903 - 1947) was born, then in 1947 by Special Resolution we became The National Small-bore Rifle Association. 

He also came joint first for the Donegal Badge in one event in 1912.  The Donegal badge was awarded by the National Rifle Association

He also competed for The Express Medal and was the winner. 

Historically, the term "smallbore" or "miniature rifle" applied to firearms with a bore diameter of .22 inches (5.6 mm) or less. These rifles found widespread use in target shooting, training, and also competitively, particularly in indoor or short-distance environments.

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, "miniature rifle" commonly described downsized military-style rifles chambered in .22 calibre, intended for cadet training and marksmanship development. Although the language surrounding them has evolved over time, the .22 Rimfire family—such as .22 Short, .22 Long, and .22 Long Rifle—has remained the benchmark for smallbore shooting.

Compare this to his first world war service with the Royal Garrison Artillery where he was with the heavy siege batteries. 

Frank Horace Weston

The siege batteries of the British Army during the First World War played a crucial role in the heavy artillery operations that defined much of the Western Front’s trench warfare.

They typically wielded heavy artillery pieces designed for long-range bombardment and destruction of fortified positions.  The term is derived from the word besieged.  A siege battery's primary role was to destroy enemy fortifications, batter trenches, and neutralize enemy artillery from long distances.  Unlike field artillery, these guns were less mobile and often emplaced in semi-permanent positions. 

The most common calibres used by British siege batteries included:

6-inch howitzers: These were among the most widely used, firing 100-pound shells up to 6,000 yards.

8-inch and 9.2-inch howitzers: Heavier and with greater destructive power, often used against hardened targets or deep enemy positions.

12-inch howitzers: Less common but extremely powerful, used for major offensives or to break through particularly tough defences. 

These guns were part of the Royal Garrison Artillery, and often required extensive setup and transport logistics. A typical siege battery might have two to six guns, depending on the calibre.  Transporting siege battery guns during World War I was a monumental task. The process typically involved a combination of railways, traction engines, and horse teams, depending on the terrain and urgency.

 There is some interesting history about the Society and the local Rifle Clubs at these websites.

 https://www.nsra.co.uk/our-history

https://nra.org.uk/home-page/

https://www.rifleman.org.uk/SMRC_crockery.html

Sandy becomes part of our lives.

 When I met my husband, his parents had a black and white collie/retriever type dog and he had such a kind gentle nature.  He found a sunny spot in our living room when he came and would lie down for a good sleep, we just had to be careful to walk round him!!!  On one visit our little toddler of about 14/15 months lay back against him and he didn’t move, just stayed snoozing in the sun.  Daughter also succumbed to the sun and had her afternoon nap leaning against him.  Occasionally Ricky would open an eye, close it again and then waited patiently for her to wake up and move away.  He was up like a shot and rushed to the back door to be let out in the garden.  Poor old chap was desperate to relieve himself, which he suitably did, but had waited rather than disturb our toddler.

The next dog that was part of our married life was Sandy, our golden cocker puppy who we had from when he was allowed to leave the litter.  We had waited to have our own dogs until our youngest was walking and so less likely to do unexpected things to a puppy.  His new experiences and his antics never stopped as he grew and I have many memories of him lolloping across the lino in the kitchen with ears flapping up and down with the speed and his surprise when he went sliding and then came to a full stop at the transition of the lino to the carpet in the living room.  I can’t forget the snowy memories either; to start with he didn’t know what to do with it  ….. try to catch the snowflakes with his tongue or eat it from the ground.  As for throwing balls for him, why do that when you can throw a snowball for him?  As usual he went bounding through the snow, turned round to wait for it to reach him and then totally surprise that the snowball didn’t continue rolling towards him.  Having long hairy legs and feet of course meant the snow stuck to them and turned into ice balls and when he bounded into the kitchen again it sounded like he was tap-dancing as the ice bounced off the lino.  We had to make him stand on an old towel and rub the ice until it was all melted and his legs and feet were warmer.  

He was enthusiastic over everything, even to the point when he would go blue in the tongue from pulling too hard on the lead.  Despite his puppy training he did not respond to tapping on the nose with a roll of newspaper if he pulled away from heel when being walked.  It also didn’t seem to make any difference what type of lead we used either; a leather one or a choke chain.  Harnesses didn’t seem to be around then or we would have tried one of those.  The only way was for us to stop until his tongue turned to a normal colour before we could resume our walk.

Like Ricky, my husband’s parent’s dog, he too found the sunny patch in the living room and didn’t like the children to go near him and then it progressed to anyone to go near him by growling at them.  At the same time, he started getting possessive of my lap; he would come running, jump on my lap, circle round and round and settle down, not to be disturbed.  If I tried to move, he would growl although he did finally jump off if I started to rise from the seat.  It then reached the point when he would start growling and snarling, followed by an attempt to bite.  I am afraid at this point we were unhappy with him as a dog with children as we wouldn’t be able to leave him out of our sight when the children were up and awake and it was time for us to find him a new home.  Not the nicest of decisions to take.

It wasn’t long before we had another dog, more of that in the next instalment.

Dogs

My sister was given a black miniature poodle for her 8th birthday as Mum and Dad then thought she was old enough to be responsible to look after it and take it for walks with one of them.  She was a lovely little dog and my sister called her Candy.  We were living in Watford at the time and I have already told the story that it was Candy that didn't get on with our cat Sooty and so Sooty went to live with my grandparents in the country.

I really wanted a puppy for myself but I was too young; isn't it frustrating that at whatever stage you are in life you are either too young, too old or "don't worry, it is your age"!!!

Three years later, when we were living in Whitstable, my parents decided that it was time to allow Candy to have a litter of puppies.  I didn't really understand anything about dogs giving birth to puppies but I soon learned.  Mum had created a nice cosy corner in the kitchen under the kitchen table in the corner.  There was a large cardboard box with a cut out in the front and sheets of newspaper and an old blanket inside to make it comfy.  The box and surrounding floor was covered in newspaper to try and keep the floor a bit cleaner.  One morning I went downstairs to find 3 of the puppies had been born and Candy was in the process of giving birth to the fourth.  I actually saw the puppy being born which must have been an eyeopener!  All of the puppies were males which was disappointing as Mum and Dad had hoped one would be a bitch and she would have become my 8th birthday present.  Mum and Dad had been savvy though and arranged with the stud dug's owner that if there no bitches they would be able to exchange one for a bitch that they had from other litters.  I think another of our puppies was the fee for Candy being put to the stud dog.  In due course we received the promised little bitch puppy which was given to me and I called her Suki.  I am sure the name must have meant something to me at the time but I have no recollection of it.

We had such fun with our dogs and they were very good natured; Suki even let me dress her up with a bonnet to help keep the sun from her eyes and also take her for walks in my dolls pram.  I must try and find the photo that was taken like Suki in the pram in the back garden in our house in Upminster.

Poodles, of course, have wool and not hair.  It grows quite quickly and is curly.  Mum and Dad use to have them cut with a "lamb's cut" so that the dogs didn't have those pom poms on their legs but they did have pom pom tails which back in that time were legal to dock.  One lasting memory is the smell of singed wool.  We had a little electric two bar radiant heater in the downstairs room and the dogs would snuggle up close and had been known, in fact many a time, to turn round and round before lying down and toasting themselves in front of it.  The trouble was the tails with their fluffy pom poms often touched the electric bar and singed .....phew, what a whiff!!

Another memory from Upminster was when we had set the table for tea in the dining room......cutlery, crockery, cake, bread, jams and the butter in the butter dish and then the doorbell rang!  Without thinking my Mum quickly pushed the dogs into the dining room so they didn't escape and dealt with the caller at the front door.  She let the dogs out again when she had closed the front door but oh dear.....Candy, or was it Suki, had jumped on the table and knocked the butter dish to floor and they both had butter round their mouths where they were busy licking it.

Dad loved to tease the dogs, not mercilessly, just gentle fun for them and us and never taken to extreme.  One day he recorded their bark and his voice talking to them.  He then put the recorder on the floor behind a mirror he balanced against a dining chair at the side of the dining room.  The dogs rushed to the mirror at the sound, saw themselves in the mirror and started barking back.  They ran to each side, couldn't see a dog and ran to the front again ... the dogs were there again...they just couldn't understand why they couldn't find them round the back!!  This was after we had moved back to Hertfordshire and living in Radlett.  Poodles are prone to blindness and unfortunately Suki's eyes slowly misted over and she relied on furniture staying in the same place or following Candy around as her guide dog.  Otherwise she lived a normal healthy life.  Candy developed a tumor which in time meant she had to be put to sleep and put out of her discomfort.  Suki was lost, she had lost her guide dog, she had lost the dog she had known all her life and had treated as her mother.  We all know how hard it is to lose a loved one, don't we.  After a while and a few injuries from knocking in to things, there was only one thing to do to be kind and so we became a dogless family again.

9

The number 9 features quite a lot on my maternal side and in particular to my maternal grandmother of whom I have many memories.  I have spoken about her before in blog posts.  Spot the 9's.

She was born in the 1890's and married in 1920, just two years before she moved into the new house, in 1922, where I visted her as a young child.    She had a very comfy figure; there was no way that I could put my arms around her but she remained agile enough to clamber on a chair at the big kitchen table so that she could plug her iron into the light fitting above the hanging ceiling light.  The kitchen table was also her ironing board and the centre of family life in the house.  

Family and people from the village used the kitchen door as the front door by walking round the house to the back paved are where the kitchen was on one side and the front parlour on the other.  The other two sides were the vegeatbale garden and access into a big back area of the garage where grandad had a bench and tools for mending shoes and all sorts of hand and garden tools. That paved area was a safe  playground to me and my sister and our cousins; well away from the road out the front.  We used to play ball games, skipping, hop scotch and ninesies.... Do you remember the game ninesies?

Dad would drive us for about 2 hours to get to the village where she and other members of the family lived.  We did this several times a year from Hertfordshire to Sussex.  As I grew older she seemed shorter, not surprisingly.  She never seemed less comfy though, no matter how old she was.

She stayed living in that house until the early 1970's when she could no longer manage the house and garden.  She moved to a lovely little bungalow up the road and that was closer to my aunt who used to visit everyday as she helped care for her. My husband and I visited with our family but it was a long way from Gloucestershire to Sussex for young children.  When Nan was in her mid 90's she moved into a care home down in the valley the other side of the railway line.  It was in a rural area on the outskirts of the village and there were many of her friends from the village living there too.  We visited her there and a couple of times my children took their violins and played to her which she enjoyed.  

When she was 99 she had an unfortunate tumble and she then looked much more frail and never recovered from that.  She sat in her chair with a sipping cup in front of her but drank very little.  She told us we were selfish as we all wanted her to be a hundred but she didn't want to as all her friends of her age in the home had died.  We had been so looking forward to celebrating her one hundreth birth that we hadn't stopped to think that she might not want to.  She was right, how selfish we were.

She died aged 99, just 8 months before her one hundredth birthday.

Rain

Rather an obvious writing prompt because if you live in England you expect rain but maybe we don't always realise the devastating effect that rain and a combination of other circumstances can cause.

In October 2000 we had a lot of rain on already saturated land and that combined with strong winds pushing the river upstream and a high tide caused the River Ouse to overflow at Lewes, where I worked in an old building on the wharf, Chandlers Wharf.

I had set off as usual for getting in to work by car, travelling along the by-roads from Haywards Heath to Lewes, via Chailey Common, Chailey and Cooksbridge where I then took the Offham Road passing the Landport Estate, passing The Needlemakers at the top of School Hill and then down to the Town Centre and finally Chandler's Wharf where I could park outside the building.  This particular day though, I got as far as Beveridge Farm between Chailey and Cooksbridge and then found the River Ouse tributary had flooded over the road and it wasn't safe for my small car to go through the water.  Thank goodness I didn't.

I returned home and rang my boss who was working from home in Bexhill and explained and he said to work from home as well.  I didn't have a lot I could do as I seemed to have lost the connection through to work and not surprising.

The centre of Lewes flooded as the river overflowed the banks and the low lying part of Lewes where I worked was under feet of water.  Beer barrels frim Harvey's brewery were floating on the River Ouse, homes were under feet of water and people struggled to get away from their home.  The flooding was made worse by coming through the Cuilfail Tunnel.  Ambulances were floating in the flooding and rescue crews used light inshore rescue boats to get trapped people out of their homes.

Water rose to desk height in our Chandler's Wharf building; smelly dirty water as sewage and water came out of the toilets and mixed with the water coming under doors and through ill fitting windows.  There was going to be no working in the building for days as some staff set about rescuing what could be saved and getting it up to the first floor.  The ground floor had to be emptied and computers, equipment and furniture disposed of.  Meanwhile some poeple were tranferred to other buildings or worked from mobile accommodation that was set up outside the building when the flooding subsided.

I, as part of the Finace Department, was relocated to another Housing Association building in Haywards Heath which was very convenient for me but less so for the rest of the Department.  Our files and computers were brought over and our computer system set up.  We stayed there for several months until the Lewes building was ready to opened as a fully functional office again and we moved back to our upstairs office.  In that office we overlooked the river and took to monitoring the tide level by natural markings on the bricks of the river bank walls as it passed through and under the Cliffe High Street bridge.  It was soon after that that the decision was taken to move further inland in Lewes and slightly uphill too; I wonder why?

Q for Family History topics

 Our March meeting was all about the letter Q.  Members covered various topics including Quarter Sessions, Quakers, an ancestor named Queenie, queries and questions.  My instant first choice was a place  in my research and the the next was an old occupation.

Quetta     My great uncle James White, born 1875 in Kent. died in 1903 in Quetta Balucistan.  Quetta was a garison town in a region close to the border with Afghanistan which was under British control.  He was
a bombadier in the 1st Mountain Battery of the Royal Garison Artillery.

Quassilarius  This is an old occupation for a merchant or pedlar. My great grandfather, Robert Jackson was born 1833 in Kilbarchan Renfrewshire.  His family were hand loom weavers and he stayed in that field until the 1881 census when I found him in the 1881 census with his son as pedlars.  They were in Campbletown, Argyleshire staying with a Catherine Crawford.  Was this a relative as Robert's  mother's  maiden name was Crawford?  He was still a pedlar in 1891 where he was staying in a Model Lodging House in Govan, Lanarkshire and again in 1901 but this time in Mathieson St, Govan together with his son.  I showed a variety of different Scottish documents including Old Parish Registers and a Paternity Decree for Robert and his future wife Helen. This was about the son Robert having been born out of wedlock.

Soap - (Green)

When I was a child in the 1950's we used to have a bar of green soap in a soap dish by the kitchen sink for washing our hands.  It used to get a white deposit on it once it had been used and was drying.  If my memory serves me right it was a bar of Fairy Soap.

For washing woollens, by hand of course, my Mum would use Lux Soap Flakes which were marketed in the 1899 by Lever Bros. and rebranded as Lux Soap Flakes in 1900 .  We also has Lux toilet soap to use for hand and face washing as well but not exclusively.

These were some of the other soaps we would sometimes have:  Cousin's Imperial Leather which was often favoured by men, my father among them; Sunlight Soap which was a yellow bar soap; Wright's Coal Tar soap which was an orangey colour and an antiseptic soap and finally Pears soap which was a translucent honey coloured soap bar that reminded me of my Nan and the soap she used to use.

Sheep

 This writing prompt instantly took me to my father's biological father that he never knowingly had met but had apparently been visited by him when he was very young and living with foster parents.

Frank Grieve Jackson has been mentioned before on my blog here

Born in Kilbarchan, Renfrewshire he had been a Romney Sheep breeder since moving to Kent after World War One.  He is in the 1921 census at Wytherling Court, Molash, Kent which is just 6 miles from Ashford.  He died there in 1947.

He entered many local cattle shows and this newspaper clipping from 1927, which I have only just found; he was a tenant farmer and had a winning entry in the Ashford Cattle Show.

He sold the farm and the farm implements and tackling were sold by auction on the farm in September 1944.

He was 71 when the farm was sold and died 3 years later.

Journeys

Journey No 1.  I have been keeping a document in which I keep the daily writing prompts from Natalie Pithers of Genealogy Stories fame and she can be found on social media site Bluesky.  I have decided to write on this blog weekly using one of her prompts.  This in itself is a new journey for me.  I have tried the #52 ancestors way and fail dismally in keeping up so am now determined that no matter what I will try to keep up with this one...watch this space.

Journey No 2.  Strangely I was only talking about this journey the other evening and this is that golden opportunity to get it down on paper.

We were talking about the Great London smog of 1952 and I remembered a family journey in the late 50's when Dad drove us from Hertfordshire to East Sussex to visit grandparents; least that was the intention.  We had travelled as far as South London but the smog got thicker and thicker until Mum was leaning out of one car window to keep an eye on the kerb and Dad was leaning out of the other window to keep an eye on the white line in the middle of the road.  The car lights faintly glowed in the yellow thick swirling fog and couldn't penetrate enough to see clearly.  It finally reached a point where the strain was too much and Dad decided the best thing to do was to turn round and go home.  I wonder whether my sister and I, as young children,  sensed the tension and kept quiet or whether we weren't helping matters by squbbling or aaking a child's favourite question of "Are we there yet" or "When are we going to be there?"

P is for .......

 A U3A family history group I go to is currently progressing through letters of the alphabet as a topic for their monthly meetings.  We can either talk about some sort of genealogical resource/record/event/location etc or find something from our personal family history to talk about.  

Last month we reached the letter P.  Some very obvious topics sprung to mind but to avoid duplicating what someone else might talk about we often try to find an obscure reference to the letter.  I deliberately ignored the obvious ones of Parish Registers, Poor Houses, Poor Law, Paternity, Proof standards, Probate and Petty sessions, to name but a few and chose a name.  So, what did I choose?

I chose the name Peggy and where it came from.  I found it was a mediaeval variation of Margaret.... Margaret, Meggy/Peggy Maggie/Peggie and Meg/Peg.  It has been used in may cultures and races around the world and has a name day on December 12th in Norway.  With the formal information quickly out the way I moved on to my ancestor called Peggy or Peg.

Peggy or Peg as she was often called, wasn't in fact a Peggy but a Margaret and even then it wasn't her first name of Edith but her second name.  She didn't know who she was named after but her mother didn't like the name and she was given a second name of Margaret her mother insisted she was called Peggy and not Edith or Edie.  I looked a little bit further in her ancestors and found Peggy had an Auntie Edie, her father's sister in law.  Was that the link?  Looking further I found she had a great aunt Edith as well, also on her father's side of the family; was that the link?  The name Peggy was beginning to grow in popularity when she was born in the mid 1920s but it didn't peak until the middle of the next decade whereas the name Edith hd peaked a decade or so earlier and was quickly falling even further.

Margaret?  Did the name have a particular significance to Peggy's mother?  Unfortunately I will never know.  There are several Margaret's amongst Peggy's ancestors, the most likely being her mothers great grandmother, Margaret Ann Hoad who had married Dick Douch Clark who I have blogged about before.  Much more unlikely is her mothers great x5  great aunt, Margaret Christmas back in the 1600's, her great x 6 great grandmother or her great x 6 great uncle's wife.

It made me wonder who I was named after, I will never know!

Twelve

 The blog prompt for today, from a person I follow on Bluesky, was TWELVE.

I quickly went off to my family history database as I new I had some large families amongst my ancestors.  Sure enough I have a few families with twelve or more children.

Today I am going to share about my 2x great father, Richard Douch Clark, who I have posted about before.

He married Margaret Anne Hoad in 1863 in Udimore and this is the list of their children.

Do you have any links to these children or indeed to Dick and Margaret?  I would love to hear from you if you do

#On This Day 25th December

On this day .!!!   .....  I thought I would share a few more memories of mine but relating to Christmas other than memories that I have mentioned last year which you can find here.

https://sussexheritage.blogspot.com/2023/12/advent-calendar-day-24.html

https://sussexheritage.blogspot.com/2023/12/advent-calendar-day-20.html

We always had christmas crackers at the tea table on Christmas Day.  I know a lot of families had them with their lunch. Our crackers used to be wrapped in coloured crepe paper and had a snap inside so that you pulled the cracker with a partner and when it went "bang" (like cap pistols used to ....oh another memory!!) the paper tore and out would fall a small present like a jumping frog or a cellophane fish that would curl in your hand, a coloured paper hat and a joke.  We loved the jokes as kids but I am sure the adults must have inwardly groaned at the same jokes year after year, as we do now!!

Boxing Day meeting at Battle Abbey.  You might find this offensive/cruel but it was part of normal life in the 50's and 60's.  The huntsman dressed up in their red jackets and the fox hounds at the horse's feet were quite a sight as they came through the archway. 

A Boxing Day meet of local huntsman (ai generated)

Crepe paper paper chains were twisted and hung in our dining room and living room.  It went from the corners to the central ceiling rose and then across to the other corner.  Then the two remaining sides were done to match.  We also had opened out folded decorations in the shape of  bell and a star.  We had other styles too in the 1950s

           

We always had a live Christmas Tree that was planted in a bucket of soil that we kept damp.  We would drape red or green crepe paper round the bucket and then put a bow round using the opposite colour to the bucket.  There were quite a few ornaments we weren't allow to hang as children because they were old and made of glass and woud have broken if they had been dropped.

Finally a memory from my late teens in the late '60's, when we were living in Radlett and I rang bells in the parish church.  I joined in with other bell ringers to go round carolling with handbells.  We called at Una Stubbs' house and given mince pies each.  We got quite a few mince pies by the end of that night!!!

#On This Day 24th December

Today we have the remarkable coincidence that Zebulon Clark, my 5x great grandfather and Zebulon Clarke 4x great grandfather - father and son - were both buried on the same day and in the same place, Icklesham, Sussex, England.  One in 1780 and the other in 1828.  To save any confusion I am just going to write about my 4x great grandfather buried in 1828.

There were several events in 1828 that are worth noting but I doubt any of them affected Zebulon's life in Sussex.

The Duke of Wellington succeeds Lord Goderich as Prime Minister.

Royal Free Hospital, established as the London General Institution for the Gratuitous Care of Malignant Diseases by surgeon William Marsden, opens.  He also founded the Free Cancer Hospital in 1851.

London Zoo opens in Regent's Park.

William Howley elected as Archbishop of Canterbury in succession to Charles Manners-Sutton.

St Katharine Docks opened in London. It lies just south of the Tower of London on the north bank of the River Thames.

 Mary Anning discovers Britain's first pterosaur fossil at Lyme Regis on the south coast.

Zebulon Clark was born in 1777 in Icklesham, Sussex, England, to Zebulon Clarke (1751, buried in 1780) and Eleanor Griffin (born 1746). He was baptized in Icklesham on January 5, 1777. Zebulon married Sarah Bates in Icklesham on April 11, 1799, and they had eight children. After Sarah's death in 1814, Zebulon remarried Mary Simmons in Icklesham on September 16, 1816. Together, they had seven children, including another son named Zebulon. Zebulon Clark passed away in 1828 and was buried on December 24, 1828, in Icklesham.

I am descended from Zebulon and Sarah's youngest son, Henry, born in 1812. 

Looking back through history, December 24 has seen several significant events:

1166: The birth of King John, youngest son of Henry II, who was forced by the barons to sign the Magna Carta.

1650: Edinburgh Castle surrendered to troops commanded by Oliver Cromwell.

1814: The War of 1812 between the US and Britain ended with the signing of the Treaty of Ghent.

1818: The first performance of "Silent Night" took place in the Nikolauskirche in Oberndorf, Austria.

1914: World War I saw the beginning of the "Christmas truce."

1939: During World War II, Pope Pius XII made a Christmas Eve appeal for peace

Militia List 1812 - Line 51 is Zebulon's entry

#On This Day 23rd December

Today, we take a look at the story of James Clark and Annie Gardner, who married on this day in 1905, in Berkeley, Gloucestershire.  James is my great great uncle.

A range of events that happened in England in that year.

The Natural History Museum in London: The unveiling of "Dippy," an exact replica of the skeleton of the Diplodocus carnegii dinosaur, became a popular exhibit.

Cadbury Dairy Milk: The iconic chocolate bar was first produced in Bournville.

Literary Milestone: E. Nesbit wrote the well-known book, 'The Railway Children,' which became a classic in children's literature.

James Eldridge, son of William Eldridge (1843-1868) and Caroline Poile (1847-1927), was born on October 21, 1866, in Bodiam, Sussex, England. He was baptized in Bodiam on February 3, 1867. James was one of three children. He married Annie Gardner in Berkeley, Gloucestershire, on December 23, 1905. The marriage was witnessed by Alfred Gardner and Rose Gardner. After their marriage, James and Annie moved to Sussex. My research shows that they had one girl and four boys, born between 1906 and 1919: Rose, Alfred, Arthur, and Richard.

I have done little research on Annie, although I have found that she was born in 1872. It's intriguing to think about how James met and married someone from Gloucestershire. James died in Sussex in 1950, and I believe Annie died nine years later.

James had a younger sister, my great-grandmother, Ellen Eldridge, who married George Clark. Their daughter, my grandmother, was named Rose Ellen. This makes me wonder if James and Annie's daughter was named after the wedding witness Rose Gardner or after James' niece, my grandmother, Rose Ellen.

There were several noteworthy events in England on this day:

1815: Jane Austen's novel "Emma" was published in London.  It is quite likely that Annie would have read this novel.

1888: The birth of J. Arthur Rank, a film magnate from Hull who founded the Rank Organisation, now known as The Rank Group Plc.  I am sure they will have watched a film produced by the Rank Organisation.

1922: The BBC began daily radio newscasts, a significant development in broadcast journalism.  Most people listened to the radio news until television became the favourite media later in the century.

1937: The first flight of the Vickers Wellington bomber, widely used as a night bomber in the early years of the Second World War.  The war would have made a big impact on James and Annie's lives and living in the South East would have seen and heard many planes flying overhead during the war.

Vickers Wellington Bomber

#On This Day 22nd December

On this day, we are reflecting on Emily Clark, my great-great-aunt, who was buried in Rye on December 22, 1876. Her story is somewhat short, as was her life.

The year Emily was born and died saw several major events:

March 7: Alexander Graham Bell received a patent for the telephone in the United States and made the first phone call on March 10.

May 1: The Settle-Carlisle Railway opened to passenger traffic, marking a significant development in transportation.

July 14: The British battleship HMS Thunderer experienced a boiler explosion during a full-power sea trial near Portsmouth, England, resulting in the deaths of 45 sailors and injuries to 40 others.

She was born in 1876 in Rye, Sussex, England, to Richard Douch Clark (1842-1905) and Margaret Anne Hoad (c. 1837-1907). She was baptized on October 9, 1876, and tragically passed away 2 months later. Emily was the twelfth of fourteen children in her family and had a twin brother named Ernest, who also died in 1876 and was buried on December 28. It's heartbreaking to think of the grief their parents must have felt losing both twins during the Christmas season. They named another daughter Emily, born in December 1877, and another son Ernest, born in May 1879.  It was quite common then to name the next child by the name of the one that has just died but it makes searching information on ancestors a challenge of not muddling records between the two.

Throughout history, December 22 has seen several notable events:

1880: The death of George Eliot (real name Mary Anne Evans), a leading novelist and poet of the Victorian era.

1919: The Government of Ireland Act of Power (Home Rule for Ireland) was signed by King George V, dividing Ireland into two parts, each with its own parliament.

1943: The children's writer Beatrix Potter passed away. Her house at Hill Top, Sawrey, is open to the public today.

It is obvious that Emily never had the chance to witness these events or read the works of these famous authors. Nonetheless, she is part of our family history.

Burial of Emily and Ernest Clark in Rye, Sussex

#On This Day - 21st December

On this "special day", I want to introduce you to one of my favorite ancestors, partly because her name is my middle name but also because as a child during the Christmas season, I always thought everyone saying "Merry Christmas" to me was actually saying "Mary Christmas!" So, without further ado, meet Mary Christmas who was baptised on this day in 1688!

Mary's  life was during a fascinating period in history, known as the Glorious Revolution of 1688-1689. This was a time when the reigning king, James II, was replaced by his Protestant daughter Mary and her Dutch husband, William of Orange. This significant event marked the keystone of Whig history in Britain, as it opposed a Catholic succession.

Mary Christmas, my 7x great-grandmother, was born around 1688. She was the daughter of John Christmas (born 1664) and Mary Morris (born c. 1664). Mary was baptized in Dallington, Sussex, England, on December 21, 1688. She married Thomas Sinden in Dallington on May 2, 1714. Together, they had six children that I've discovered so far, four boys and two girls, born between 1715 and 1730.

Looking back through history, several significant events occurred on this day:

1135: The crowning of King Stephen. After King Henry I died without legitimate heirs, his eldest daughter Matilda was named his heir. However, Stephen of Blois, Matilda's cousin, invaded England and had himself crowned in a coup d'état. This period of conflict became known as The Anarchy.

1715: The English pretender to the throne, James III, landed at Peterhead.

1882: Thomas Edison created the first string of Christmas tree lights.

 it's unlikely that these events had a direct impact on Mary Christmas' personal life. The crowning of King Stephen and the Glorious Revolution were significant events though that shaped the political landscape of England, while Edison's invention of Christmas tree lights adds a festive touch to her story I have shared today.

#On This Day 20th December

 John Wickes great 6x great uncle, was baptised on this day in 1719.

In the same year:

Jan 5 Britain, Hannover, Saxony-Poland and Austria sign anti-Prussian Russian pact

Apr 25 Daniel Defoe publishes "Robinson Crusoe", regarded as the 1st English novel.  

Jun 10 Jacobite Rising: Battle of Glen Shiel - Jacobite army defeated by British forces

While these events likely didn't have a direct impact on John's personal life, they provide a glimpse into the broader historical context of the time.

John Wickes, son of Richard Wickes (1685, bur.1753) and Barbara Wimble (c. 1690, bur.1727), was born c. 1719 in Brightling, Sussex, England. He was baptised in Brightling on 20 Dec 1719.

On this day in history:

On this day throughout history, several other significant events occurred:

1745: Bonnie Prince Charlie's Jacobite army reached the River Esk in North Yorkshire, far north of John's home in Sussex.

1780: Britain declared war on Holland.

1812: Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm published "Grimm's Fairy Tales" or "Children's and Household Tales" for the first time.

1879: Thomas Edison privately demonstrated his incandescent light bulb at Menlo Park, New Jersey.

It is through a Barbara Wickes that I am related to one of my best genealogy friends who I met quite by chance.  She lives in Lewes and I visit her.  You can see my connection via John and Barbara here.

John's link to me through my great grandmother, Ellen.

#On This Day 19th December

I'd like to share the story of Walter George Eldridge as the only person in my database with an event listed today.

Walter George Eldridge, my first cousin twice removed, passed away on this day in 1989. There are many significant events to help us to appreciate the world he lived in.

In this year:

March: The Purley rail crash occurred in Surrey, the same county where Walter was living. Two trains collided, resulting in the tragic loss of six lives.

May: Our family moved from Gloucestershire to West Sussex, a significant personal milestone for us.

November: The fall of the Berlin Wall signaled the reunification of Germany, allowing Germans to travel freely between West and East Berlin. This historic event was marked by a visit from Margaret Thatcher, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, the day after the wall fell.

Walter George Eldridge was born in 1919 in Battle Registration District, Sussex, England. He was the son of James Eldridge (1866-1950) and Annie Gardner (1872-1959). In 1938, Walter married Violet Ransom, and they had at least one daughter, though there may have been more children I haven't researched yet. Walter passed away on December 19, 1989, in Surrey.

Walter's father, James Eldridge, was the older brother of my great-grandmother, Ellen Eldridge. Walter also had an older sister named Rose Ellen Eldridge, born in 1906. I wonder if she was named after Ellen's daughter, Rose Ellen Clark, my grandmother, who was born in 1892.

There are a few notable events that happened on this day throughout history:

1843: Charles Dickens published "A Christmas Carol," selling 6,000 copies. I wonder if Walter enjoyed reading classic literature like this.

1924: The last Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost was sold in London, England, a dream car for many during that time.

1958: The first radio broadcast from space took place. US President Dwight D. Eisenhower sent a Christmas message to all mankind, wishing for peace on Earth and goodwill to all.

1972: Apollo 17, the last of the Apollo Moon landing missions, returned to Earth, splashing down in the Pacific Ocean southeast of Samoa.