Health; The Health of a Victorian House Painter

Most of my ancestors were working class people, working jobs that were rife with dangers that would have health and safety managers' heads spinning today. Miners working in cramped conditions where mine shafts could collapse, and where the only person responsible for keeping the air breathable was a small child sitting alone in the dark, goodness only knows how many metres under ground. Laundresses working with all sorts of chemicals, soaps, and hot water to get all the stains out, and then using dangerous machinery to wring the laundry dry. And men, women, and children working in factories and mills where massive machinery could pull them in and devour them in an instant of forgetfulness. So many of my ancestors were working hard, dangerous jobs, in poor conditions, and on a diet of poor nutrition and often living in sub par sanitary conditions.

Without any medical records it's hard to know exactly how our ancestors were affected by the poor working, and living conditions they endured. In truth the only medical records we have for our ancestors are their birth and death certificates, and the occasional inquest report. 

The ancestor that I will be writing about this week was my 3x great grandfather; Henry Vinall. He was the son of John Vinall and Charlotte Mitchel, and was born in Henfield, Sussex in 1813. In April 1838 Henry Vinall married Jane Munro in Brighton, Sussex, and they settled into her family home at 3 St Peter's Street. Jane Munro, like her mother, and most women in her family both past, present and future, was a laundress. Henry Vinall was a painter.

Henry and Jane had eight children together and lived for the rest of their lives on St Peter's Street, Brighton (first at #3, and then at #4). At each and every census return, and certificate Henry was recorded as being a painter; sometimes a house painter and sometimes an engine painter. From his marriage certificate to his death certificate Henry was a painter.

Paint in the Victoria era was quite a different affair, to the paint we use today. In the early Victoria era paint was hand mixed, which made colour matching very difficult. Painters would use a dry pigment and grind it into a paste, adding turpentine and oil to make it into a liquid that could be brushed onto walls etc. The oil gave the paint its lovely glossy finish that we so often consider an integral part of the Victorian aesthetic. It was down to the skill of the painter, to complete the work without leaving brush strokes. For exquisitely glossy finishes the painter would wait for the paint to dry, sand it down with a pumice stone, and then repaint it, perhaps up to 10 times. 

Instead of wall paper, stencils were often used to create patterns and designs on the walls, and floors would be painted to resemble rugs. Paint was also used to create effects like marbling or graining. Common and relatively cheap slate would be painted in such a way as to make it resemble marble, and simple wood trim could be painted to look like expensive oak or walnut.

In the 1870s factories started to make paint and packaged it in cans. It would come in an oil base with finely ground pigments, and customers, or more commonly the painters, could add extra oil to thin the paint so it was ready to use. With the technological advances in the world of paint, Victorian home owners could choose from a vast array of colours for their homes, and this was even achievable in fairly modest terraced homes, such as 4 St Peter's Street, Brighton! But with one colour in particular, there was a steep price.

One of the most popular colours of the Victorian era was green, or more specifically Scheele's Green. Carl Wilhelm Scheele was a Swedish chemist who invented a brilliant green pigment by blending copper and oxygen with arsenic. Scheele's Green was absolutely what all the Victorians wanted in terms of fashion and design, not just in their homes, but on their bodies. 

Arsenic was well known as a poison in Victorian times. It could be easily bought at the local chemist, to be used as rat poison, and if you're a fan of historical murder mysteries, you'll be familiar with the use of arsenic for more nefarious means. However, Victorians believed, at first, that they would have to ingest the pigment, to suffer a toxic reaction to the arsenic. The poisonous green was used to create green paint, green wallpaper, and green fabric. Fashionable women wore green dresses, and green upholstery and curtain fabric would grace the furniture and windows of their homes. As long as they didn't lick the walls, curtains, or clothes, they thought they would be just fine. After the success of Scheele's Green, chemists and painters experimented with arsenic by adding it to other pigments, to create canary yellows for example. Of course, it didn't take them too long to realise how dangerous this pigment was. Workers in the factories where the wallpaper, paint, and fabrics were made started to get very sick. Seamstresses, upholsterers, and painters and decorators working with these poisonous materials, started to get very sick. But nothing really changed until the rich started to get sick and die. It wasn't until the late 1860s that doctors made the connection between the strange maladies, and deaths that had occurred, with the poisonous green pigment. Finally the desire for green had started to ebb, as people became more aware of the dangers of Scheele's Green. Green became a terribly unpopular colour as a result, and even today it is considered an unlucky colour in the world of high fashion. By the late 1890s the British government started to tighten up the rules about how arsenic and other poisons could be used in manufacturing; too late to be helpful to our Henry Vinall, who died in 1897.

In Front of the Mirror, by Georg Friedrich Kersting, 1827

Victorian paint, aside from the pigment, was made from linseed oil, turpentine, and white lead; yet another problematic ingredient. White lead was used in paint to create durability. Leaded paint would allow the paint work to stay on the walls and floors for longer, and when used in a white paint, the lead would create a brighter, cleaner white. Leaded paint is no longer used in the UK, but it wasn't until 1992 that it was banned from being available to the general public.

Arsenic and lead would cause all sorts of symptoms, and depending on the severity of the exposure the poisons could cause death either fairly rapidly, or start a slow decline towards death. Acute arsenic poisoning could cause death by massive fluid loss and shock, but a long exposure to small amounts of the toxin could trigger various cancers, plus an array of other symptoms including neurocognitive issues. Lead poisoning, like arsenic, can also take place over a long period of time. Long term lead poisoning includes physical symptoms such as abdominal pains, constipation, and headaches, but there are plenty of neurological symptoms of lead poisoning too. Lead poisoning can also cause memory problems, and can lower a person's intellectual ability by as much as 10%.

Many Victorian women's make up products would contain lead which helped them achieve the pale complexion that was all the rage.

There is no evidence in Henry Vinall's records to confirm that he suffered from either long term arsenic and/or lead poisoning. In truth, the only medical information I have found for him is his death certificate, where the cause of death was recorded as 'weak heart' and 'senile decay'. The weak heart is self explanatory, but 'senile decay' led to more questions. 

It seems that 'senile decay' was related to 'senile dementia'. In the Victorian era the term 'dementia' was used  in a fairly general sense to mean a decrease in intellectual capacity or inability to reason, not necessarily related to old age, but to a person of any age suffering from a terminal or even temporary mental decline. Senile decay was a term used in death certificates at the time, to suggest that the senile dementia had reached it's natural conclusion. Studies suggest that the majority of those suffering from senile dementia were admitted to lunatic asylums where treatments were unproven and potentially dangerous. Henry Vinall was not admitted to an asylum. Instead he stayed at home, and was cared for by his youngest surviving daughter, Louisa Vinall.

Considering the work that Henry Vinall did throughout his lifetime, and the risk of such work, the impact that painting in the Victorian era could have on his cognitive skills, and the mention of 'senile decay' on his death certificate, I have wondered at whether his mental decline could have been caused by his work with dangerous chemicals in the paints he used. Of course, he could have naturally developed a neurocognitive disorder, to use a term doctors would use today. It wasn't until the early 1900s that Alois Alzheimmer identified the characteristics of progressive dementia, and from that point science and medicine have developed a far better understanding of neurodegenerative diseases, with still so much more to understand and learn how to treat. The Alzheimer Society of Canada is a charity that works to support those affected by Alzheimers and other neurocognitive disorders related to age. It also raises funds to support those who study and research that area of medicine. If you are would like to make a donation, or seek support you can find them here.

Alois Alzheimer, 1864 - 1915

Henry Vinall died in his home at 4 St Peter's Street, Brighton; the home where he had lived with his wife Jane Munro for almost 60 years, the home where he and his wife had raised 8 children and celebrated many grandchildren. He died with his daughter Louisa by his side, the youngest surviving daughter, who never married and was the constant carer for the family. In Henry's life time the world witnessed, amongst other things) the publishing of Jane Austen's book "Pride and Prejudice", the invention of the flintlock revolver, Napoleon's defeat at Waterloo, the publication of Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein", the opening of Cadbury's first chocolate shop, the invention of electricity, massive electoral changes in England following the Great Reform Act, the abolition of slavery in all countries of the British Empire, the coming to the throne of Queen Victoria, the publication of Dickens' "A Christmas Carol", the Crimean War, the construction of the Suez Canal, the publication of Charles Darwin's "The Origin of the Species", the opening of the first part of the London Underground, Pasteur's invention of a rabies vaccination, the invention of basketball, and the gramophone record, and in 1896, the revival of the Olympic Games. He died at the age of 84 on the 25th July, 1897.

#Edgill

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https://www.adrianflux.co.uk/victorian-homes/victorian-interior-painting/#:~:text=The%20Victorian%20era%20was%20now%20filled%20with%20magnificent%20colour&text=However%2C%20the%20Victorians%20were%20still,distemper%20was%20saved%20for%20ceilings. 

https://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/features/scheeles-green

https://www.slam.org/blog/arsenic-in-victorian-wallpaper/#:~:text=Chemists%20and%20paint%20makers%20introduced,that%20arsenical%20wallpaper%20could%20kill.

https://underthemoonlight.ca/2017/11/04/the-long-history-lead-white-paint/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lead_poisoning

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/1467-9566.12452

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dementia#History

https://www.carehome.co.uk/advice/a-brief-history-of-dementia

https://alzheimer.ca/en

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timeline_of_the_19th_century

https://www.ranker.com/list/harmful-victorian-household-objects/amandasedlakhevener

https://www.pubhist.com/w11645

Creativity; A Songstress, & Her Life Framed By War

This blog touches on the issue of suicide. Please take care when reading, and reach out to your local suicide prevention service if needs be.

There are a great number of creative types in our family, on all sides. We don't appear to have any visual arts creatives yet (my daughter might turn out to be the first one), but we certainly have plenty of performing arts creatives. I've already written about the Bells' musical troupe 'Trois Cloches' and their route from the pub scene of Lancaster to the London Hippodrome. From the other side of my family this week's blog is about the life, singing talents, loss, tragedy, and loves of Madge Newell.

Madge Newell was my great grandfather's youngest sister. Born in Edinburgh, in 1885, Madge was the youngest of 7 children (5 of whom survived to adulthood.) Her father was the American shipmaster George Frederick Newell, from Massachusetts, and her mother was an Edinburgh lass, named Christina Hall Main.

Madge was a young 19 years old, when her father died in 1904. Her older siblings had mostly all left the family home by this date. Her brothers Ted and Liston had joined the British Merchant Navy in 1886, and 1898 respectively. Her sister Helen Sophia (aka Nelly) married Percy Galloway in 1902, and Sarah Beatrice (aka Daisy) was to marry her beau Frank Bucher in 1905. This left just Madge and her mother in the family home in Edinburgh.

Edinburgh, circa 1905

In 1910 Madge and her mother left Edinburgh to visit the USA. They arrived in New York, I think perhaps to visit with her brother Liston who was working for the Dominion Altantic Railway Steam Ship line, as the chief engineer on the RMSS Prince George. The Prince George was  a steamship that ran the route from Boston, MA to Yarmouth, NS, and Liston lived in Nova Scotia at that time, with his wife Henrietta (aka Lilly) and their daughter Julia. Julia would have been about 10 years old at the time of their visit. The letter referenced in my previous blog was written by Henrietta, to Madge's mother Christina, and her turn of phrase in the letter suggests that they had met.

Shortly after their return from this trip, in February 1911 Madge began her singing career, and various newspaper reports give glowing reviews of her concerts. It seems that Madge sang her way through WWI, and celebrated the end of the war by marrying the wonderfully named Sydney Christmas Bennett, in 1919.

Dumfries & Galloway Standard, March 1915

Sydney was the son of gentleman farmer Raymond Christmas Bennett, from Wroxeter, Shropshire, and Alice Mary Vidler. I had been told that he bore the moniker 'Christmas' due to his birthdate, which was 25th December 1888. However, on closer inspection I found that his great grandmother's maiden name had been Christmas, and various other members of his family, including his brother and father also shared the same middle name. How perfect that he was named with the family name 'Christmas', AND was born on Christmas Day! I sure there was much celebrating on that particular festive day.

As family lore has it, Madge and Sydney's marriage spelled the end of her stage and singing career. At that time, women of her social class did not continue working once they were married. Her life was to not to seek fame and fortune through her beautiful voice, but instead to bring care and comfort to her husband, and raise their children. I am told by family members that she much regretted leaving the limelight of the stage, and missed the world of professional singing. 

Sydney was a civil engineer. He was posted to East Africa in 1914, where he worked as an assistant engineer in the public works department, planning and building the water supply system in Mombasa. Sydney joined the East African Pioneers, and was assigned to them in Africa throughout the war. It seems, however, that Sydney took fairly frequent visits back to Blighty, and perhaps it was on one of these visits that he met Madge. Perhaps he saw her at one of her concerts and was bewitched by her voice. Or perhaps he knew her socially; they were certainly of a similar class and age. At the time of their marriage she was about 34, and he was 31. It's possible that Madge did not expect to become a mother. Whilst we don't blink today about a woman having her first child in her mid or late 30s, in that era 34 was considered quite a late age to be a new mum. But become a mother she did; Madge and Sydney welcomed their beloved son, George Henry Sydney Bennett in 1921. He was baptised in Nairobi, Kenya on 20th March 1921.

Market Hall, Mombasa circa 1914

Sydney, Madge, and baby George lived in East Africa, where Sydney continued to work as a civil engineer. He was appointed the role of executive engineer for the public works department in 1921, and by 1930 Sydney was the executive engineer for his division. Available records suggest that Sydney and Madge returned to the UK in 1931; presumably George, who was 10 by this time, was at boarding school in the UK (his name was not in the ships passenger list with his parents.)

George Henry Sydney Bennett was 18 years old when Britain declared war on Germany, on the 3rd September 1939. On the same day parliament passed the National Service Act, which imposed the conscription of all males aged 18-41. George joined the RAF and became a wireless operator and air gunner, stationed at RAF Luffenham, Rutland.

A wireless operator in the RAF had the role of transmitting communications to and from home base. A WOp had fewer duties than other members of the flight crew. They would often act as an extra in emergencies, especially as the reserve gun operator. In the event of the plane going down, it was the WOp's responsibility to send location details to home base, and to send out distress signals, to aid any potential rescue. This had the result of WOps often being the last to leave the plane, as it crashed.

A Handley Page Hampden Bomber

On the 5th or 6th of November, 1941, George and his crew were flying in a twin engined medium sized bomber, called a Handley Page Hampden (or Hampden for short). This kind of plane was a common choice for night time raids, and were crewed by a pilot, a second pilot or observer, a wireless operator, and an air gunner. Their mission that night was to fly with 11 of the Hampdens of Squadron 144, and some Hudson bombers from 608 Squadron. Together they were to attack shipping in the Frisian Islands. The squadron came under attack from a Vorpostenboot (flak ship) and George's plane crashed into the sea off the coast of Schiermonnikoog. George Henry Sydney Bennett was lost, along with his crew members; Llewellyn Newton Evans (pilot, aged 20), Harry Walter (observer, aged 21), Thomas George Miskin (wireless operator/air gunner, aged 30). 144 Squadron lost 2 other bombers that night, each with a further crew of 4. Of those eight men, 5 died and 3 were taken as prisoners of war. 608 sqaudron also lost two bombers in that raid, each with another crew of 4. All eight of those men died. Astoundingly, such loss in one bombing raid during WWII was not uncommon.

The average age of RAF Bomber Command crewmen was 21, although older and younger men are known to have flown. The highest number of losses by far, amongst the allied air forces, was that of the RAF, with a loss of 39,804 men throughout the war. For comparison, the next highest loss was that of the Royal Canadian Air Force, who suffered a loss of 10,183 men. Loss of colleagues in the RAF was so commonplace that aircrew became quite blasé about life and death. Terms were used to express death and loss, such as 'bought the farm', 'got the chop', or 'failed to return', which seemed to help surviving crewmen mentally accommodate such levels of loss. And everyday jokes included, 'can I have your eggs and bacon at breakfast if you get the chop tonight?' It wasn't done to discuss the loss of friends and co workers.

Back at home, in Parkstone, Dorset, Madge and Sydney were distraught. Their only son, cut down in his prime. Family lore again tells us that the loss of her son, and the loss of her career caused Madge to make some ill considered life choices. Perhaps in an effort to find comfort, or solace, she had an affair with another man. Sydney eventually discovered the affair, and in his turmoil of grief made the decision to end his own life. He tried to shoot himself in the head, but did not die. He survived, but was however partially paralyzed as a result of his resulting brain injury.

Madge felt a great sense of guilt over her husband's actions and dedicated the rest of her life to nursing him back to strength, and being his dutiful wife and partner. They lived together, by all accounts very happily; an inseparable pair. Towards the ends of their lives they moved to a nursing home in Branksome, Poole and it was there that they spent their last days together, until their deaths in 1969, when Sydney died on the 25th June, and Madge on the 26th June.

Branksome, Poole, Dorset is a lovely seaside town.

I have been unable to find out where Sydney or Madge Bennett were laid to rest, or cremated, but I have no doubt that their lives were celebrated at a joint ceremony. George Henry Sydney Bennett was lost at sea; his remains were never found. He and his fellow crew members are remembered at the Runnymede Memorial. located just 4 miles from Windsor, Berkshire. The memorial is set on the top of Coopers Hill, and overlooks the River Thames, where it commemorates over 20,000 men and women of the air forces whose lives were lost in the Second World War, and have no known graves. It looks like a beautifully peaceful place.

Here is one of the songs that Madge sang during her professional singing days; Turn Ye To Me, sung by Maria Ferrante. The lyrics speak to the stars twinkling in the night sky, and the sea moaning in the wintery gales, as the singer pleads to the listener to 'turn ye to me'. It is a somewhat mournful song, and I have wondered at Madge  singing it with a fresh set of emotions after the loss of her son George.

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https://www.cwgc.org/visit-us/find-cemeteries-memorials/cemetery-details/109600/runnymede-memorial/

https://aircrewremembered.com/evans-llewellyn.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RAF_Bomber_Command_aircrew_of_World_War_II

https://www.iwm.org.uk/history/whos-who-in-an-raf-bomber-crew#:~:text=The%20wireless%20operator%20transmitted%20all,any%20part%20of%20the%20aircraft.

https://www.parliament.uk/about/living-heritage/transformingsociety/private-lives/yourcountry/overview/conscriptionww2/

https://www.europeansineastafrica.co.uk/_site/custom/database/default.asp?a=viewIndividual&pid=2&person=8505

Nickname II; K-K-K-Katy

I have a rule about not writing about my grandparents, for identity security reasons, but I figured since this is about a name that was never official, and does not exist on any records, I could bend the rule.

My grandmother was known as Kate, ever since World War II. Her real name was not anything close to Kate!

My Granny picked up the moniker  from a popular song at the time. It was actually a World War I song, but like so many war songs from the Great War, it found new fame in the 1940s. 

My Granny joined the war effort as soon as she could, and so was registered as an ATS bookkeeper in the 1939 Register, taken just a few weeks after Britain declared that they were at war.

The ATS (Auxilliary Territorial Service) was a women's branch of the army, which was formed in 1938. It wasn't until 1941 that unmarried women between 20-30 years of age were conscripted to join up.

K-K-K-Katy was a jolly song about a young soldier, prone to stuttering, who falls in love with a beautiful girl named Katy. I can just imagine a fair number of handsome soldiers singing that song to my Granny. She was, as you can see, quite beautiful!

Here is the songwriter singing the song on the Ed Sullivan Show, and no; it's not Joe Biden! Enjoy!

Nickname; A Lost Letter, & Some Detective Work

Last  year, whilst visiting with my parents, my mother and I went through a file of paperwork and photos relating to my grandparents. Amongst these papers I found a letter dated 18th May, 1922. The letter was a mystery to my mother and I, as it mentioned names many of which we did not recognise. Names which, as it turned out were mostly nick names. We were able to discern one or two names, which at least allowed us to work out to which side of the family the letter was related. I made it my mission to investigate; to find out who all these people were. Next month we have a writing prompt 'story teller' and I will save the body of the letter for that post, as there really is a great story or two in the spaces between the lines of its pages. But this week I'll focus on the pet names for one particular branch of my family. The most confusing thing about the letter was that it was from Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, Canada. As far as we knew, we had no family in Canada, until my husband and I moved here! The letter was addressed to 'My Dear Little Scotch Mother', which would have been a clue if I had know the nationality of this particular ancestor. The writer refers to people named Liston, Doc, Mussa, Nelly, Madge, Percy, Daisy, and Freddie. I had no record of any such names in my tree, but knew where I should start; my great grandparents Ruth and Ted were also mentioned.

McLaughlin Brothers was a dry goods store in Yarmouth, which operated from 1875- 1932.

With some help from my mother I started to build a picture of my great grandfather's family. I had never before known that he was from Scotland. Born in the port district of Leith, in Edinburgh, Scotland George Edward Newell was one of six children born to an American ship's captain, Frederick Newell, and Scottish born Christina Hall Main. This resolved the question relating to the identity of the letter's recipient. The 'dear little scotch mother' was my 2x great grandmother. She was born in 1847, in Edinburgh, to James Main, and Sarah Liston Clark, which gave me a clue as to who Liston might have been.

George Edward Newell was known to friends and family as Ted.

I've discovered that it was common practice for parents to use last names as middle names, when naming their children. This practice turns out to be a nice clue for genealogists when trying to match ancestors to records. It's not a big stretch to consider that sometimes a familial last name might be used as a first name, and that seems to be the case here. Going back several generations I found my 5x great grandmother; Sarah Liston. She was born in 1768, in north Leith, and married John Hall in 1788. Sarah Liston was Christina Hall Main's great grandmother, and it seems that she and Frederick Newell decided to name their second child Liston, presumably in her honour. My mother knew nothing about this granduncle, which is not a surprise since he died during WWI. (More on that ancestor's story another time.) As it turned out the name Liston, whilst a mystery when first reading the letter, was not a nickname but just a long forgotten ancestor.

A view of Leith, circa 1841.

The nicknames Doc and Mussa I will explain in the 'story telling' week, as they are pertinent to the tale I shall tell then. But I suspect you can guess at the profession of 'Doc'! I continued to put together the family, and all of Ted and Liston's siblings. Ted and Liston, it seems, were the only two sons out of the six children. Their sisters were Sarah Beatrice, Hellen Sophia, Freda Genevra, and Madge. Obviously this explained who Madge was! I had fully expected Madge to be a nickname for a daughter named Margaret. What a surprise to find it was her legal name. I shall write more about Madge in a future blog post, but suffice to say that she was born in 1885, in Leith, and died in Poole, Dorset, in 1969.

Madge Kendal was a famous actress at the time of Madge Newell's birth.

Freda Genevra was born in February 1881, but sadly died in July 1882. She was aged just 1 year and 5 months. A tragic loss for any family, of any era. So, I was left with Sarah Beatrice, and Hellen Sophia, to try and match with Daisy and Nelly. My research told me that Hellen Sophia was born in 1879, in Leith, and had married Matthew Percy Galloway, a native of Edinburgh, and born in 1876. Together they had lived together on Inverleith Terrace, Edinburgh for many years. Nelly is a common pet name for people named Hellen, which resolved the identity of the letter's Nelly, and on further discussion with my mother she could recall her great aunty Nelly, and her husband Percy, who obviously went by his middle name, and not the given first name, Matthew.

The famous opera singer, Dame Nellie Melba, made the name Nelly a popular pet name in the 1880s.

I had one sister left, Sarah Beatrice, and two mystery names; Daisy and Freddie. The letter writes about them;

"I was so sorry to hear of all the sickness you have all been through, poor Daisy she surely has had more than her share of worry, she has my sympathy, I hope little Freddie will soon be well and strong again." The letter was written in 1922, just a few years after the end of the Spanish Flu epidemic. I don't know what the sickness was, to which the letter refers, but it is possible that there were members of the family that had been ill due to the 'great influenza'. Clearly the letter's Daisy had been concerned about the health and well being of 'little Freddie', which suggested that they were mother and son. On researching the last of the Newell siblings, Sarah Beatrice I discovered that she had indeed had a son named Frederick. Sarah Beatrice was born in Leith in 1877. She married Frank Bucher, and together they had a child named Frederick Newell Bucher, aka 'little Freddie'. As it turns out, Daisy (or Sarah Beatrice) need not have worried so much about Freddie's health. He survived whatever it was that had ailed him, and in 1939, at the age of 30 he married Lydia Griffith. He died in 1964. I had solved the mystery of the most shrouded names in the letter; the mist was gone and the letter was understandable at last.

Francis Evelyn Greville, Countess of Warwick, was known as Daisy, and was a British socialite and philanthropist. It is said that she was referenced in the popular Music Hall song, 'Daisy, Daisy'. Perhaps it was the song, or the Countess that attracted the family to call Sarah Beatrice Daisy.

Whilst researching Sarah Beatrice I stumbled upon a second Sarah Newell, also the daughter of Frederick Newell, and Christina Hall Main; Sarah Liston Main Newell. Firstly I had to make sure that she wasn't the same person as Sarah Beatrice. Scotland's People affirmed that Sarah Beatrice was indeed born in 1877, and Sarah Liston Main was born in 1873, the same year as brother Liston. On closer inspection I realised that they shared the same birth date. Sarah and Liston were twins! Sadly, Sarah Liston Main did not survive. I don't know if she lived for a short while, or if she died at or shortly after birth, but she did not survive the year. This is so sad, but also a symptom of the era, where babies from multiple births were less likely to both survive.
One of the reasons I enjoy genealogy so much is the detective work involved, and at last my detective work was done! (At least, in relation to this letter.) Names, and having a knowledge of naming traditions and common nick names given to certain traditional names are all important tools to any genealogist. The use of the name Daisy was definitely a curveball, but knowing that a sister, also named Sarah, had died in infancy might explain why a different nick name was used for her. Once all the sleuthing was done I was able to focus less on the unknown people, mentioned in the letter, and focus on the stories found therein. Stay tuned for these tales, coming up later this summer.

The cover says it all!

#Newell

Preserve; Proudly Preserving the Unrecorded

Most stories in our family histories can be found in the records that our ancestors left behind. I know how my 2x great grandparents met, because I found my 2x great grandmother living as a lodger, in the house next door to my 2x great grandfather's family home, in Accrington, in the 1861 Census. I know how close my great grandmother was to her aunt, when I found my great grandparents working as live in servants to a big house, and their first daughter, as an 11 month baby, living as a nurse child in the house next door to the aunt, in Brighton, in the 1901 census. I know how much my 2x great grandfather was respected by those he worked with at the Chorlton Union, due to the obituary found in newspaper archives. And I know so many other stories, by following my ancestor's paper trails into the past.

But there are some stories that will never be reflected in an ancient paper trail, and those are the stories relating to those in our history, whose lives went against the grain of what was considered the norm. Where no formal (regular, or irregular; see my last blog) marriage is performed, no census report asks the right questions, and no direct ancestors are left to inherit and pass on the tales of those lives, we must rely on an oral history to preserve what is known. One such story is that of my great uncle Kenyon Holding, and his partner, or 'friend' Walter Newby.

Some of Kenyon's life can be told by records. Kenyon was the youngest son of Kenyon and Sarah Anne Holding; my great grand parents. He had nine other siblings, and the only one younger than him was his sister Doris (known to family and friends as Tia). Kenyon was born on the 5th December, 1909 at 5 Gage Street, Lancaster. His father, Kenyon Holding (senior) was a window cleaner, and his mother Sarah Anne (nee Birkett) registered his birth after the busy-ness of the Holiday season, on the 6th January 1910.

Kenyon was the middle child in the front row.

Two years later the 1911 census showed that he was living, as the baby of the house (Doris wasn't to arrive until 1914), a few doors up at 10 Gage Street, where his father ran his window cleaning business. By the time the 1921 Census was taken the family had moved to a new home, and a new family business; running the Farmers Arms public house, at 124 Penny Street, Lancaster. By this time Kenyon was 11 years old and attended school full time, along with his two youngest sisters, Olive and Doris. The Farmers Arms was later, to become the White Cross Hotel, and nowadays is known as The Toll House Inn.

The White Cross Hotel opened around 1902.

Kenyon (junior) had just turned 18 years old when his father died, on 19th December 1927, at the age of 54. I'm not sure when his widow Sarah Anne and her remaining unmarried children, moved out of the White Cross Hotel, but certainly by 1934 the voting records for Lancaster placed Sarah Anne, Uncle Kenyon, and my grandfather Joseph Bell Holding at 48 Blades Street, which is not a public house, but a mid terraced house on a residential street. 

In December '35 Kenyon was best man to his older brother Joseph, when he wed Edith Charlton, and his best mate Alfred married her sister Kathleen. A fabulous double wedding in the midst of the Holiday season! Kenyon can be seen in this wonderful picture, standing on the left.

Sarah Anne and son Kenyon moved again, before the start of World War II, this time to a semi-detached home at 90 Greaves Road, just down the road from a grand public house; the Greaves Hotel. I imagine they were regulars there, and perhaps Kenyon even had a job there for a time.

A rather wonderful newspaper article, dated 16th July, 1943, from the Lancaster Guardian, proves that Sarah Anne continued to live at the Greaves Road address for a while longer. But there are currently no records freely available to help me understand what Kenyon did during the war, or where he served. Kenyon was 30 when the war broke out; a perfect age for a soldier. But I'm told that he possibly never left the UK. 

Walter was born in Kendal, Westmorland, in June 1901. His father, James Newby, was a rural postman, and his mother was Elizabeth Ann Groves. He was the second youngest of 7 children. They lived in the north east of the town, in a neighbourhood called Far Cross Bank West. 

Far Cross Bank West, in Kendal, Westmorland

I have not been able to locate any of his family in the 1921 census, but in the 1939 Register Walter was to be found in Far Cross Bank West, Kendal, working as a sole fitter for a boot and shoe manufacturer. I have been unable to find out what he did during the war years. 

Walter Newby, date unknown

It is from this point that records are useless to me in tracing the history of their lives together. It is only by talking to family members that I am able to sketch out a picture and carefully preserve and honour their lives.

Family members recall that during the war Kenyon was posted first to Daventry, where he worked as a radio operator. Later he was, apparently sent to the Orkneys, where he worked in the catering corps, serving meals in the officers' mess. Apparently one night, when Kenyon was posted on guard duty, and thus unable to serve in the kitchen, the officers were given mere sandwiches for dinner. A protest must have been made, because Kenyon, it is said, was never posted on night duty ever again. He must have made a good dinner for those officers! When WWII  records become more available from next year, I hope to find out more about what Walter and Kenyon did during the war years.

After the war Kenyon returned to Lancaster, and shortly after joined his sister Lily, and her husband Arthur Gardner, in  running the Cross Keys Hotel, on Market Street, in the heart of the city centre. Situated just down the road from the market square, and the town hall, and with the infamous Lancaster Castle further up the road, the Cross Keys Hotel was an ancient hostelry, with an impressive history.

The Cross Keys Hotel has since been demolished, but when it stood, the facade sported a stone bearing the date 1613. A later built section of the hotel bore the date 1629. The front door to the public house was made of an incredibly hard and solid oak wood. Story has it that the castle door had been damaged during the English Civil War, and was replaced. The burnt castle door was supposedly repurposed by becoming the front door to the Cross Keys Hotel. Tradesmen who later came to repaint the door would attest to the scorch marks found under the layers of paint. Beams running through the ceilings of the hotel were so hard that it was deemed impossible to hammer a nail into them. 

Notice the date stone, on the white wall of the building.

It is thought that a guild (an early form of professional association or trade union) would often meet at the Cross Keys, and in pre-reformation years guilds would meet after a form of religious service had been performed. As such, in places where guilds met often they might have a large, solid table to use as an altar. The Cross Keys Hotel had such a table in the kitchen which is well remembered by family members who visited and lived there. 

It was at this 'altar' table that Kenyon would have worked in his years living and working at the Cross Keys Hotel. He used his catering skills, probably learned in his childhood and youth, living in a pub/ hotel, and honed during the war, to run the kitchens at the hotel. 

The cellars at the Cross Keys Hotel were extensive. So much so that family members have remarked on the possibility that they could have been linked to the castle in some way. There is much regret that the building no longer stands and such a story cannot be put to the test. It was in these cellars that Walter worked after the war, as a cellar man. He also worked behind the bar in the evenings, and did odd jobs around the hotel. It sounds like he was very handy, and a useful kind of person to have about the place.

Family members have told me that it it likely that Walter and Kenyon first met, while working together at the Cross Keys Hotel, on Market Street. Sometime in the 1960s Kenyon and Walter moved out of the city, to live and work in the nearby seaside town of Morecambe. They opened and ran a cafe together in Morecambe, on Pedder Street, named 'Lezanne'.

Kenyon and Walter never lived openly as gay men; certainly not in public, and not in the presence of family either. It's entirely possible that they were just good friends, and found working and living together easy and cost effective. Family members who remember them well, however, have referred to Walter as Kenyon's 'friend', where the emphasis is felt by those inverted commas, or as his partner. Whilst we will never know the true nature of their relationship, it seems highly likely that they were a gay couple. Neither Kenyon, nor Walter were my direct ancestors, but I feel that their story is so important to preserve. They lived and worked together for over a decade, at a time when homosexuality was illegal, even in a private home, and where consent was given. 

Morecambe Seafront, circa 1965

The basic history of gay rights, of lack thereof, can be told through some famous cases. Homosexuality in England was punishable by death until 1861 in the UK, although the last execution of men for a homosexual act was carried out in 1831. This podcast, called Lost Voices tells the story of the last men to be thus executed very well, and explains more about the history of the time. In 1895 Oscar Wilde was famously imprisoned for 'gross indecency' after his consensual relationship with Lord Alfred Bruce Douglas was discovered. After he had served his two years of hard labour Oscar Wilde left for France immediately. He never returned to the UK, and died in France 3 years later. 

Oscar Wilde

In the Second World War, genius mathematician Alan Turing led a team of experts in cracking the Enigma Code, which was instrumental to the Allied success in winning the war. After the war, in 1952 Alan and his consensual partner, Arnold Murray were burgled, and in the ensuing investigation Alan admitted to the police the sexual nature of their relationship. Both Alan and Arnold were brought to trial, and due to Alan pleading guilty, he was offered a choice of imprisonment or probation, the latter conditional on him agreeing to chemical castration. The result of the hormone treatment, the lack of freedom to continue his work (his security clearance was revoked due to his criminal record), and various other factors all related to his conviction, all impacted his mental health, and in 1954 Alan Turing was found dead in his home, by his housekeeper. An inquest found his death was suicide by cyanide poisoning.

Alan Turing, and the Turing Machine, 1936

The Wolfenden Report was published in 1957. It looked into the UK law relating to homosexual acts, and recommended that consensual acts of homosexuality, carried out in private, should no longer be criminalised. It was debated at length in parliament, in the media, in religious communities, and in the pubs of Lancaster, no doubt. But it wasn't until 1965 that the decriminalisation of male homosexual acts was proposed in the House of Lords. (Lesbian acts had never been illegal in the UK.) A year later, the same was proposed in the House of Commons, and finally the Sexual Offences Act was passed in 1967, which finally decriminalised consensual sex between two men, of or over the age of 21, in a private setting. There was still a long way to go for the winning of fair and equal rights of gay people, and those restrictions were over turned by the European Court of Human Rights in 2000.

Walter died in January 1966, at the age of 64. It was shortly after, that Kenyon sold up, and joined his younger sister Doris (aka Tia), and her family, in their move down south, to Goring Heath, Oxfordshire. The multi-generational family of Doris, her husband, and their 2 younger children, lived with her mother in law, and Kenyon. When Arthur Gardner died in the mid 60s, Lily, Kenyon's sister also joined the Goring gang; it must have been a fun home!

Kenyon passed away on the 1st February 1983, in Goring Heath. He was much loved by the family he left behind and those who knew him, and Walter remember them fondly.

It is my hope that in writing this we are able to honour the lives of Walter and Kenyon, and preserve their story, in a way in which the official written records cannot. 

With thanks to my father, his cousin Liz, and others (namely members of the Old Lancaster Pubs Facebook group) without whom I would not have been able to complete this story.

#Holding

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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oscar_Wilde#Imprisonment

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alan_Turing

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LGBT_rights_in_the_United_Kingdom

https://maps.nls.uk/geo/explore/#zoom=14.0&lat=54.32891&lon=-2.74239&layers=117746211&b=1&o=100

https://maps.nls.uk/geo/explore/#zoom=13.0&lat=54.05026&lon=-2.79588&layers=117746211&b=1&o=100

https://www.orkney.com/things/history/wartime