Transcript from Leicester & Rutland Lunatic Asylum

Transcript from Leicester records office, all as written except where the words were illegible. 

James Tearle

Admitted to Leicestershire & Rutland Lunatic Asylum 16^th March 1886

Profession – Railway Signal Repairer.

Married, aged 51 years, wife Emma (Mary Emma), 4 children

Duration of attack – 5 days. Residence Hallaton

1^st residence – Upping Hallaton Station, near Uppingham

2^nd address – Gt Oxendon (Hart, father of Emma)

Character – Good

Education – reads & writes

Religion – Church of England

Assigned causes – mental anxiety

Height 5 feet 6 ½ inches – weight 10 stone

Under delusion that his wife is unfaithful, endeavours to knock head against iron bedpost.

Uses obscene language continually, when offered a drink tries to bite piece out of cup.

Swears at those around him and eats with difficulty, needs to be controlled by several men from injuring himself or others.

Complexion somewhat sallow, lungs perfectly healthy, bowels somewhat constipated.

Has an injury to “penis?” which was self-inflicted before admission which is now healing.

Diagnosis

Became excited 5 days ago, been sleepless since. Continually swearing and threatening behaviour and trying to injure himself.

The anxiety of his work is thought to be the cause of this insanity. There is no history of insanity in the family.

Has led a temperate life.

On the 10^th he cut his “penis?”

Either constantly walking about, not settling down to anything for many moments together.

Says he has saved £20 during the last year and that he is going to start a “p? (unable to make this out - definitely not public)” house.

Is excitable and is constantly demanding to go home. Says that the man who he worked with “drove him mad” by his idleness – owing to having infused himself.

He is very restless and unsettled, fusses about with things on the table, is constantly talking but only boasts of having been the best workman in the world – his memory is confused. He speaks at times indistinctly and through his closed “teeth”

(A bit about health and disease then further mention of injury to “penis?”)

April 3^rd & 10^th (1886)

Still getting worse, tremor of lips now very marked, is emotional and sensitive. Appears to know he is not getting better although tries to delude people into the idea that “he never was better”.

Letters most hopelessly unintelligible, words being left out and there (they’re) repeated and again being only just “?” and left so he does not appear to notice his errors.

Synopsis without doubt he is suffering from General Paralysis.

17^th April 1886

Always thinks he is quite well.

13^th May 1886

Had a slight “?” attack yesterday – appears very feeble and lost in mind. Not eating his food well the last two days.

His wife has been written to about him.

20^th June 1886

Still very feeble, the better part of the time since last note he has spent in bed scarcely knowing what he has been doing – is now improving.

23^rd July 1886

Up and about again and says “he never was better in his life” but his tremors, confused ideas and his gait belie the validity his statements.

10^th November 1886

Is aggressive and very uncertain, gait unsteady, talks in loud voice, takes food very well – inclined to be voracious.

? Dec 1886

He has quietened down a bit, is more unsteady in walking and keeps his legs wide apart. Declares himself to be in first rate condition. Sleeps more at night, takes his food well.

25^th Feb 1887

Tremors very marked, restless and noisy at night, can hardly stand or walk.

2^nd March 1887

Is very much weaker, tremors continuous, he is very restless.

8^th March 1887

Was taken with convulsions, eyeballs injected (!!!), unconscious of surroundings.

10^th March 1887

Convulsive movements continued without intermission and he died this afternoon.

Died this day at 5.15pm

In presence of attendant J Norman.

Cause of death – General Paralysis.

For pm Lea? Anthony Wtt (witness?) 142

The poor fellow was in this state for exactly a year, most of which appear to have been spent without visit from his wife or family. Must have been a living hell.

Hello! This is the family calling!

The first attempt at making a connection through facebook drew a blank! I suppose it was a bit too much to ask really, especially as there appeared to be three profiles for the same person, no way of telling if the only one allowing mail messages was a current one.
A different tack was required I thought. Still on facebook I put a name in, still the profile wouldn't allow messaging, undeterred I went for the "more info" link which took me to google information linking the name to a primary school in Manchester. The story was dated 2006 (5 years ago) so it would be difficult to tell if the person was still associated with the same school. Anyway, I then accessed the school website and found that the person in question was still there - now as head teacher. Using the "contact us" option I sent a message asking if there was any link to our Dorothy. And the wait began.......
Not long though, as within fifteen minutes my mobile rang - "Is that Richard?", "Yes" I replied, "Richard Nichols?", "yes" I said again. Helen was on the other end of the telephone, one of the grand-daughters of Dorothy no less! The feeling was so difficult to describe, I couldn't sit still and finished up wandering out into the street with my mobile, still talking and not really believing it was all happening.
It turns out that Helens son has been helping his grandmother (Dorothys daughter) in trying to track down the rest of the family only last weekend! Further to this, Dorothy, her daughter and some of the girls had actually travelled down to Market Harborough in the 1980's to try to see if they could find any of the Essex family! As they didn't really know where to look, or what to look for, the task was an impossible one at the time. Now, with the aid of the internet and computers a lot of the leg-work was able to be done from the comfort of my living room.
Helen asked if she could give her mother my number, this was readily agreed and the next call was Dorothys daughter. This was all so surreal, a whole family I had no idea even existed a week or so ago, and now I was in conversation with two of them and facebook friends also!
One line of conversation really intrigued me though, it was that Harry (Pop) had sent Dorothy a message congratulation her on her marriage! How odd that he'd never ever mentioned it to anyone in our family, it could have been so much easier and sooner to make contact! So strange! But there again, they always say "There's nowt as queer as folk!"

That's family for you (or not as the case may be!!)

Many years ago a cousin of my mother claimed to have met my Great Aunt Dorothy - Harry's elder sister. She said she was living in Louth, Lincolnshire, was in service and had never married.
The other week I was talking to mum and we mentioned this, plus that someone on http://www.ancestry.co.uk had contacted me mentioning a Dorothy Essex who had gotten married in Manchester in 1919, at the time I had replied saying that "our" Dorothy had never married. The conversation continued and we decided that, to bottom out our curiosity we would order the marriage certificate anyway, for only a few pounds outlay it was a small price to pay for peace of mind.
The certificate duly got ordered, and lo and behold, turned out to be one and the same person!! The only explanation we can think of is that mums cousin met her other cousin Dorothy (who happened to grow up in the same household as she was the daughter of Edward who "our" Dorothy went to live with after being orphaned to England after the death of her parents in India back in 1897.
Further investigation followed quickly on the http://www.findmypast.co.uk website, checking for births, marriages etc.
It seems (and this is only a maybe at the moment) that we have a whole new line of relations never before known or considered! I have attempted to make contact with one of these via facebook, no response as yet - I'll keep you all posted on what happens.

Back to the floor

It's been quite a while since I've posted anything on here, lots been happening in my life, some good, some bad, some indifferent.
I haven't been totally ignoring this, but have been busy on occasion dipping into the depths of the past to search for more information on who I am, and where I come from.

Please keep dropping back from time to time for updates (I promise I'll try to write on a more regular basis!)

The climbing boys!

The following is a passage from an autobiography written in 1900 by a George Elson - entitled "The Last of The Climbing Boys", and dedicated to the dying breed of sweeps apprentices.

Soon after joining my brother, he too, tired of his situation, and one morning I was left alone with Tom Bale, sweep and professional fighting man, a terror to police constables and bullies alike, a drunkard and ne’er-do-well through his love of drinking, brawling and fighting, yet, when sober, a kind, generous, good-tempered, honest man.



He belonged to the Bales of Market Harborough, where he won his first battle when but eighteen years old. Tom was a square-built man of about 5 feet 10 inches, with dark, piercing eyes, set in a comic countenance and massive head. He was wonderfully agile, could spar well, and turned the scale at about fourteen stone weight.


It was my opinion, and also that of many others, that if Tom had been a sober man, and had been taught the science of fisticuffs, he would have been champion of England, the battles fought to attain which are read and admired and mentally applauded in the male heart of hearts of the Anglo Saxon race, or why the intense anxiety to obtain the first intelligence of boxing matched, national or otherwise, the enthusiasm at military tournaments and all athletic contests demanding pluck, skill and endurance?


Although Tom did not rise to championship honours, he had the proud satisfaction of knowing that he had fought and beaten all the best men pitted against him in Northamptonshire and the adjoining counties.

The Tom Bale spoken of was the cousin to my 3x great granddad Joseph, born in Mkt Harborough in 1804.
There are three chapters in the book which feature Tom, such was the impression he must have made on the young George! I have also found other references to this man, mainly in old archive copies of the Northampton Mercury from 1840/41, referring to either court appearances or other committal procedures - quite the rebel!

As one door closes.....

Well, here we are, at the end of a long, long road, although it's not really the end. Just one of a number of cul-de-sacs that tempt up through life.

The little acorn which started the whole thing off, over 35 years ago, was when my uncle Ivan handed my dad a magazine which referred to Judge Nichols, the hanging judge, of Faxton, near Lamport. Ken (dad) thought it would be great to mark a line of descendancy between Augustine (as was his name) and himself, thus started the quest I write of.
So many years down the line, so many church records read and re-read, so many miles of the countryside of England (and beyond) covered in this quest, and, such is the finality of what I have viewed this week.
Throwing all against the grain, the golden rule being broken too, the one which states you start with what you know, and work back. Well I've done that, and although it does bring results I was looking for more. Faxton is a dead village, not even a stone still exists, although there are memories written on the pages of the old church records. I decided to start from the beginning, rather than the end, and read through the whole gamut. This started with an inscription to Sir Augustine Nicolls, which I assume was taken from the plaque which now resides in a museum in London's fair city. But running through the records, I noted that for the first few years, the only entries were for the Nicolls family, the lords of the manor so to speak! Where were the real people? Not worth a mention came the stark reply!
Onwards through time I alight on an entry for the 20th January 1716. A death!
Sir Edward Nicolls, Baronet, died a bachelor - title extinct.
So, there we have it, unequivocal proof that the Nichols's are NOT  descendants of this hanging judge. Sir Edward was the last of his line - unless there was some deed of illigitimacy! Well, there lies another quest!

With this death comes life too, life in the form of the common man, the real people of the country and county. The Smiths and Jones's, the life and soul of this great land, these now come to the fore in the records of this now lifeless little village. So much for nobility, so much for a door closing, it still opens yet more. There are other avenues to trek, more unturned stones to lift. Another line, a real living and breathing line, which requires my attention, the salt of the earth, the real people, without whom there would be no Great in Britain (even though I pride myself in being English rather than British!). There is a trail, a quest, an obsession, an oddessy no less! The more there is, the more you want. For each stone turned, two more arise!

A time of correction and frustration

Around three weeks have passed since my last post and during this time I have been busy in a number of areas. Firstly a point I need to correct from an earlier blog. On 1st of July I wrote of the tiny village of Wildboarclough and what I was told was the old school house. Since then, whilst at work within the local jobcentre I was engaging with a lady who had just lost her job, we were going through her financial statement and she remarked on the incorrect post office entered by the contact centre, I looked and it was one in Macclesfield, this turned out to be where she was brought up and the post office was the one where she had claimed her family allowance in years past. I afforded myself a little chuckle and the lady in question asked why, and if I had relations up there. I told her part of my story and her eyes widened as I spoke. As it happens she had spent many a long day in this beautiful little place as her schoolfriend lived in the old school house at the time!
This is where the correction comes, the photo I have posted is not the school house, which apparently was located opposite the church. I really can't remember whether there was a nearer house than the old post office building (which at one time housed the schoolroom) or not. Suffice to say, the one I was told was, isn't!

Anyway,
I have made a little progress on the search for Pop's sibling relations but it is most frustrating at the moment. I have got a "hot match" on Genes Reunited which shows three of the descendants, Eric, Audrey and Patricia Holdsworth. I have contacted the tree owner, but as yet haven't received any response. As you can probably imagine this is a matter of considerable frustration. It's been almost a month now and I'm starting to suspect the tree owner no longer uses the site.

I have also renewed and redoubled my attempts to progress further up Fanny Tearle's line and have at last had some success. Going over old ground is sometimes fruitful, as the online records are sometimes amended when someone  (like me) picks up some errors in the transcribing of the details. I decided to do a trawl of the area of Hexham by postal address rather than by name, a most laborious task I know. However, I started to notice that some of the entries were for a family name of Rigg, I looked into the original records and spotted these were actually Pigg and had been read incorrectly by whoever made the original web copy. Doing a search using Rigg I was able to locate the census records for Ann Pigg (mother to Fanny) for 1841 and 1851, also gaining provenance between these and records already in my posession by locating her widowed mother at the same address that Fanny was born.
So there we are, moving back yet again I now have Annie Pigg's parents, both from the Northumberland area although I'm still not certain of Ann's (Annie) father. On all the censuses it is stated her father was William Pigg, a stonemason or quarryman, so why did she enter her father as William Fenwick on her marriage certificate?
As the old song goes "There are more questions than answers".

More revelations

Saturday evening 17th July, the day of the Tearle meet. I drove down fairly early this morning, leaving home around 8:40am. The trip was pretty uneventful, arriving in the village of Stanbridge at around 10.00am, I had a bit of a drive around first, just getting a feeling for the size of the place. One thing struck me straight away - the houses don't look at all old, all are of brick, I didn't see a stone building anywhere (except the church). On reflection this may be something to do with the area - not too far from some of the largest brickworks in the UK! 

After parking up at the local pub car park I made my way across the green to the church of St John the Baptist where the meet was taking place. 

Entering the church I was nowhere near the first to arrive, I was met at the door by Barbara Tearle who was the first of this line in my tree to contact me after reading this blog just after I came back from India. Barbara introduced me to Ewart, who is a New Zealander. We spoke for a while about my roots and I offered a few records so he could copy them for his files.

There were a number of 'trees' located around the place, the longest of which ran the length of the building, right from the altar down through the nave, it must have been over 60 feet long! However, this wasn't the one I was interested in, that was a shorter one, but to me, much more important. This was the line from William Tearle of Stanbridge (1749). This was where my James came from. Having a good look and checking against what I had been given before by Ewart, all seemed to tally quite well (there was a slight transposition of birthplaces, but apart from that it looked good), and my grandparents, Harry Edward Essex & Ida (Margaret Ida Bale) his wife were displayed. 

I spent some time just wandering around, going outside to take a few photos of the churchyard, and back in to look some more over the records. It was also interesting to listen to the different accents, Ewart and his wife with the New Zealand twang (sounded a sort of cross between Australian and South African to me!), various London strains wafting around the room, and others without a specific accent. 

Studying the faces, I really couldn't see any sort of family resemblance with anyone of my own line, which wasn't surprising really as most or all the attendees were of other Tearle lineage. 

As lunchtime approached we made our way to the pub for lunch, I chose to sit at a table set for two, not a lot of point in taking up a table with six or eight settings I thought. There was a woman just wandering around the dining room so I offered her a seat at my table. We got talking and it turns out she had only joined the Tearle online group a couple of days ago and had come up from Bristol at the last minute. All I really found out was that her name was Anne Tearle, that she had two children, one of each, and also had a brother who had children. She stated that she too was part of William Tearle's line.

Her mother had died last year (2009) and she had found some letters from her father's family when she had been clearing out after the funeral. It turned out that her father hadn't been the sort to keep in touch, and when he died some 40 years previous, someone in his family had written to her mother, but she hadn't responded either. Anne thought it was about time to make it up to her grandfather and find out a little about where her name (and she) came from. Dinner passed without much conversation, always a little awkward between two strangers, and there were a number of short speeches from various quarters within the gathered group.

Making our way back to the church after lunch, Anne was already pouring over the tree when I entered the church, I was surprised that she appeared to be centred on the area where my family were entered. She pointed out where her entry was, I found myself standing talking to the great granddaughter of James Tearle. My mother is also a great granddaughter of the same man! This was a direct descendant of Henry James, Frances' brother, albeit by different mothers, but the same blood-line all the same.
It seems that both brother and sister's families suffered much the same fate, Frances and husband George Essex died in India within a few months of each other in 1897, their three children being orphaned to two uncles back in England, Henry James and his wife Louisa also died within a short space of time, Henry in Lagos, Nigeria in 1914, and Louisa at sea on 28 March 1915, their six children becoming orphans. Annes' grandfather, Frank George Tearle spent some time in one of Dr Barnardos orphanages, coming out to be taken in by what she always thought was an uncle 'Arthur Tearle', it would appear this might have been an older brother instead.
Anne, please forgive me if I have any of these facts wrong, I made no notes at the time and all is from memory.

So, there we have it! A real live long-lost relative. Probably the closest I could ever have expected to meet today, there wasn't a lot of chance that any of Pop Harry's sibling lines were going to put in an appearance.

A red letter day, topped off by an email later on from Barbara with references to James Tearles' military record. He served for over 13 years, a private, corporal and finally six-odd years as a sergeant, discharged on 16 October 1866, in his posession three medals for the Crimea with the clasp for Sebastopol, and an examplary character!
The date of 17th July 2010 closed with an air of contentment.

Back to the future

A week has passed since the last post and I've been pretty busy. I pick my grandson Zander up from nursery on a Thursday evening now as my daughter Louise is back at work after her maternity leave. It's so strange how, after raising your own kids for n years you feel so self-conscious and under scrutiny from your children when you look after their kids! Louise called me about an hour in to check I and he were ok.
I think she trusts me!

We had a great time, he is eight months old now and recognises people and things around him, and as Louise and Will, her partner, have moved into a new place Zander has plenty of room to speed around in his walker, and does he!

Well, back from my future to my past, I have revisited Pop's family and had a breakthrough, his brother George was recorded as George 'F' on the 1901 census, so, going back to basics I went to the earliest records which were the army births records. Lo and behold, his middle name wasn't starting with an 'F', but was Douglas! Visiting the 1901 census image I can see where the mistake was made. The 'D' was taken as a 'ditto' to the entry above which was Dorothy F (Frances) and just transposed. An easy mistake, but such problems it can cause.

From this I have managed to find George's death which was in 1938, so he was only about 42 when he died. Going back, and knowing he died in the Macclesfield area I have now managed to find his marriage (to May Elkin) in 1918 - it must have been at the end of the war. Also the birth of what I think was their only child in 1921, notably one Audrey M Essex. I think the middle name was May after her mother.
Delving ever deeper I have managed to locate a marriage for Audrey, to Eric Holdsworth (sounds like I ought to be starring in Corrie now!) in 1941, and also a child by the pair, Patricia A Holdsworth born in 1947, so if she is still alive she would be 62/63 so it's very possible. I'm unable at this time to find a marriage for her, there are a few with that name but the locations don't fit yet. I need more information on what happened to the family first.
One odd finding was a death for both Audrey and Eric - if it is the same couple Audrey May Holdsworths' death was recorded in South Warwickshire in 1985 (the age etc all fits) and Eric in 1987, also in South Warwickshire. If it is the same couple why did they move from the Macclesfield area, and why did they return to the area where Levi Essex originated? It gets more intriguing all the time!
Next week sees the Tearle meet in Stanbridge, I won't find any of these answers there though other questions will be on my mind. Like what happened to all Fanny Tearles' siblings? Also I'd love to find out how to find James Tearles' army or navy records (I have been told he was in the marines).
Tuesday this week will, I hope, be spent in Warwick, I need to bottom out the Audrey and Eric issue and see if I can find out who reported the deaths, and also to try to find exactly who Levi Essex comes from. At the moment it is all conjecture from other genealogy enthusiasts on the web. It will be interesting to try to find out.

Moving on

We're into July 2010 now and I'm looking forward to attending the Tearle "reunion" in two weeks time. It's going to be strange and wonderful at the same time, meeting up with people I've never met before, but who all have a commonality through their blood-line!

Apart from this, I haven't been idle, I've been busy trying to piece together what happened to grandads brother and sister, George and Dorothy after they were orphaned back to England back in 1897.

While grandad Harry came to Market Harborough to live with his uncle Joseph, George and Dorothy both finished up with another uncle, Edward, who was a schoolmaster and in 1901 they were recorded as being in a little village near Macclesfield called Wildboarclough. A clough is another name for a valley, wild and boar probably coming from the fact that the area was widely used for hunting and, with a day off on Tuesday last, I decided to "pop" up there and take a look-see.

It was a good two-hour trek from Market Harborough but was well, well worth it. As I approached, the sat-nav piped up stating I was arriving at my destination. What a destination, there was a turning off the Buxton to Macclesfield road which took me down through a tunnel of trees and rhododendrons, the shrubs were in full bloom and with the sun streaming down through the tall trees made for a lovely welcome.

I had every intention of wandering around for an hour or so then moving on to Macclesfield just to see if there were any clues in the churchyards there. I couldn't, this tiny little village captured my heart. I can understand why Edward Essex chose to stay a while. It is situated on the side of the valley, everywhere there are trees and the gorgeous rhododendron bushes, and I mean everywhere.

There was a young woman walking a dog along by the churchyard wall as I was wandering through the gravestones. I managed to catch her attention and enquired as to whether there was a schoolhouse. She was French oddly ehough, but appeared to know what I was talking about and pointed me in the direction of a row of cottages and said she had been told one of them used to be the schoolhouse.

This was one of two rows of stone cottages, the other being along by the road through the valley floor.

I just wandered around and around, passing the same places over and over again, it was so idyllic, so peaceful, so pretty and so relaxing. I sat on a bench down by the babbling brook, and that was it! I just sat, no need to think, it was possible to just lose myself in this almost enchanted place.

After a while I made my way back to the church as I'd spotted a notice on the board by the old red phone box saying there were little pamphlets on sale in there. I really didn't expect the church to be open, but I was pleasantly mistaken as it was.

More surprises in store inside - a plaque on the wall to the local soldiers of the great war had three members of the Essex family, including great uncle George. He hadn't perished in the war, but appeared on the roll of men who served. There was also a list of church wardens and his uncle Edward appeared on this, serving between 1911 and 1916.

I could go on and on, the time flew by, and before long I found I'd been there over four hours, just bathing in the enjoyment of being in this tiny little place. With a heavy heart I climbed back into my car and drove back up the steep incline and out of this other world.
A heavy heart, but also a new resolve, determined to find out what happened to Pop's brother and sister.

Moving on

Well, my work is starting to effect the amount of time I can spend on this project. I was doing a 4-day week which meant I could spend time at the local records offices digging further.
I have been talking to an ex-colleague, who was also made redundant at the same time as myself - he had some problems with the laptop he bought when we closed so I popped over to sort it.
He had finally gained a new job, as a director for a firm of shelf makers up north. I told him about my quest with Annie (Fenwick) Pigg and of the birthplace of Frances being in the Hexham area. Turns out he is looking in that area for accomodation so has promised to have a look around and see if he can locate Black Pastures Cottage so watch this space!

I haven't been totally idle though, I've started looking on the Essex line, trying to find Levi Essex birthplace etc. We have always been told he originated from Coventry, although in the examinations book of Mkt Harborough it shows him (the family) coming from Long Lawford (Nr Rugby) to Harborough, so mum had never looked along the Coventry trail.
I visited Rugby library recently and did manage to pick up some info on some Essex's in the area. It seems Long Lawford never had a church in those days, the one that is there now being built in around 1859 (40 years after Levi left) and is now in disrepair. There is a notice in the churchyard stating that the people of Long Lawford would trek across the fields to Newbold on Avon to worship at the church there. I went to the churchyard there, but no sign of any Essex headstones (I did find some in Long Lawford though, some as recent as 1960!).
The next phase is to visit the library in Coventry or the county records office in Warwick to take a look at the parish records for St. Michaels - now the cathedral. This is where I hope to find Levis birth record.
Looking on some genealogy internet sites and contacting others who are tracing the same line it appears that Levis parents might be William Essex and Elizabeth Clay and were married in Wolvey, near Nuneaton. The records for there are in Rugby library too so another trip there is also in the pipeline.
It's just finding the time to do this now!

Digging deeper

Since finding the maiden name of Annie Tyrle, wife of James, the next step was to try to find the marriage so we can carry back one further generation (well, at least part of it).
Back to the ancestry website (http://www.findmypast.co.uk) to trawl through the record pages of the births, marriages & death records. This is a painstaking task, as all the records are stored alphabetically in quarter-year sections so searching is by surname and then attempting to decide if a record is relevent - all that is given is the surname & first name, the district the marriage took place and then the book & page of the registry where the entry can be found. To be totally sure of a match it is best if you can find the reference to both sides (i.e. husband & wife) and ensure they both point to the same record set.
I started at the quarter where Frances' birth was recorded (Q4, 1867) working back on one side. I chose James Tearle/Tyrle - both spellings first to see if I could get a reference to be used in a search of Annie Pigg. Going back through the years the only one close that I could find was for James Tyrle, in Tynemouth quarter 3, 1864. So, using this information I was able to obtain a match of sorts with Annie Pigg for the same reference.
The certificate ordered it was just a matter of time until I could be sure I'd got the right match.
An agonising wait of five days until the envelope dropped through the letterbox, and opening it I got yet another surprise, well two really.
August 1st, 1864, in Holy Saviour's in the Parish of Tynemouth Priory, the marriage of James Tyrle, Bachelor & Soldier, of Halifax, married Annie Fenwick Pigg, Spinster of Tynemouth. Annie's father was stated as William Fenwick, Sculptor!
So was James a soldier or sailor? I have heard mention that a number of the Tearles entered the service of the Marines, which might have explained the reference to Soldier!
What about Annie though? Father one William Fenwick!
The plot thickens!

A footnote to all this, mother is a little happier now, knowing that Fenwick is the previous level in the ancestry, and also that his occupation is placed as sculptor, well, much happier now then!
There is also one other quandry here - James' father is recorded as John Tyrle, with an occupation of Coachman. Was this just something of a better sounding occupation? John Tyrle (Tearle) is recorded as a pauper on the 1851 census!

Sick as a Pig(g)

Well, back to the task at hand, looking for further information on either James Tearle or his wife Annie. I have recently received a copy of Frances' birth Certificate which confirmed the birth in Hexham on the 11th December 1867, placed at "Black Pastures Cottage". The birth was registered by Annie and this also reveals her maiden name - Annie Tyrle, formerly Pigg! Well, that really grated on my mum, she thought is was such an awful surname and couldn't understand why anyone should want a name like that.
James' occupation is shown as "Seaman in her Majesty's Service".
So there we have it, a proven link with the North-East, which in itself is not seen as such a bad thing, just the surname which is not such a big want!

In the hour of darkness a light will shine

I'm stunned.

Out of the blue I have received an email from someone with the name of Tearle! It is a real heart in the throat moment when you get an email come in where you have no idea whatsoever who has sent it, only that you can see their name and the title of the message. That was enough to get me right on the edge of my seat. It turns out that there is a web-based group centered around this unusual surname. I have applied to join and will now have to wait and see!

One moment in time

Today, the Third of December Two Thousand and Nine marks a milestone in the family. "The Main Man" passed away today.
Rest in peace Kenneth Ernest Nichols, this world is a poorer place with your passing.
Love you
Rich
xxx

Waterloo

Been trawling one of the ancestry sites on the internet (http://www.findmypast.com) and happened upon a link to check the roll of honour for the Battle of Waterloo.
My granddad (Harry Essex) always said that his granddad had fought at this historic battle, but no-one has ever been able to link him to it, would have been a bit difficult really, he wasn't even born until 1816 (the year after the battle!).
However, I made the trawl, and lo and behold, an Essex was returned - along with a christian name I recognised! Levi!
Levi Essex was Harry Essex's great granddad, not as thought. Now we understand why it was marked on the census's that he was a Chelsea Pensioner, a driver with the Royal Horse Artillery no less.

The lunatics have taken over the asylum!

Life is still good. Zander William Maughan is now six days old and is even more good looking than when I first set eyes on him. This is such a wonderfully strange feeling, totally different to when my own two girls were born, and not just because it's a boy methinks! I think that when it's your own child you get caught up in the occasion and the bigger picture is blurred out. With being removed from the actual event there is time and reason for reflection - and to question your (and everyone elses) mortality. This makes for a more poignant occasion. When I was younger and involved with the birth of my own children I don't remember weighing up the possibilities of anything bad happening, now it did come into the equation. I was so happy and relieved when the text came through that all was well with both mother and son.

Doubly happy that the occasion wasn't marked by one from the other end of the spectrum of life, would have been a tragedy if the birth had coincided with a death in the family. But Ken is still hanging on, still very poorly but can be quite alert on occasion, whilst at other times he is looking like someone at deaths door.

Now, back to the blog title - I have received the death certificate for James Tearle and it has thrown up another surprise.

Date and location of death - 10th March 1887, in Leicester and Rutland Lunatic Asylum! Cause of death - General Paralysis. Occupation etc - Railway Signal Repairer and Navy Pensioner (of Hallaton).

Well, we did have an inkling that he was living in Hallaton when he died, and that he was a navy (Greenwich) pensioner, but the rest is all news! So, was it the railway that brought James to Market Harborough in the first place? Why did he move from Little Bowden to Hallaton? Was it because he had to move with the work? Seems a lot of trouble to go to for a second income. And then, what was the lunatic asylum all about? General paralysis doesn't seem the sort of thing that would be reason to be committed? Very strange, so each answer throws up more questions. One being that this asylum was a paupers asylum, well as James Tearle was recorded as having a job and a pension, I don't think he would have qualified as that, but who knows, it may have been the only option open unless a large amount of cash was available for private treatment.

So there we have it, lunacy on both of my parents sides of the family - no wonder I'm the person I am!

Well I know I'm biased, but he's the most beautiful little man I've ever set eyes on!

Zander William Maughan, 8lb 7 1/2oz, born 4:17am 2nd November 2009.

Life is good

Life goes on!

It's Sunday evening, 1st November 2009 - a week after my first grandchild was due to be born and we're still waiting around for his arrival. My daughter Louise went into hospital yesterday morning as the midwife had detected high blood pressure and wanted them to check her out. It wasn't for long though, the hospital tested her a few times and each time it seemed ok, so after a couple of hours they advised her to go home and just "wait".

Louise is back in the hospital now, contractions have been getting steadily more intense and frequent over the course of the afternoon and early evening, so I drove her and Will, her man, back in about two hours ago, when she was checked over she was 8cm dilated and her waters had just broke, so they're thinking any-time soon now!

On another tack, I have received Frances Tearle's birth certificate, and we were correct in our search, it is indeed the right person, Frances Jane Tearle, born in 11th December 1867 and residence shown as 'Black Pasture Cottage' in the registration district of Hexham, sub-district of Chollerton in the county of Northumberland. Father shown as James Tearle, Seaman in Her Majesty's Service. Mother is Annie Tearle, formerly Pigg! Well, that has really upset mother, she's not keen on that name at all! I really can't see the problem, it's just a name, and not one that has stayed with the family anyway.

In my opinion it all sounds so romantic, the places this family stayed over the years, Black Pasture Cottage, this throws up thoughts of the rolling countryside with really dark vegetation all around, and the next place they turn up is No1 Marina Villas, Fortunes Well, Portland, Dorset, now there's an address I'd love to have on my headed paper, sounds so enticing!

Now I have another quandary, and one that I fear I'll never be able to bottom out: Why on earth did this family end up in Little Bowden, Market Harborough, Leicestershire? When there is no sign whatever of any links with the area. James came from Leighton Buzzard in Bedfordshire while Annie was a Geordie! The only explanation I can offer is that when James came out of the navy with his pension, he had a friend who came from this area who he either followed or contacted in order to find a job or accommodation. It seems a plausible explanation so I'll probably have to settle for that - unless I unearth any more Eureka moments where this family is concerned.

There is one further puzzle, the death of James Tearle is recorded in the index as being in Leicester, and as people generally weren't sent into hospital if they were ill it would appear that he perhaps suffered some sort of accident. It shouldn't be too long until we know anyway, have now put in a request for a copy of his death certificate. This should at least show the cause of death and who registered it.

Another Eureka moment

Amazing, after many hours trawling through Google maps, Google earth and on-line records I have finally located the birth of Frances Jane Tyrle (Tearle/Tirrell/Terrell/Turle etc. etc - there are so many variations in the way their names were spelt). We'd always been led to believe from the 1881 census that she had been born in Little Bowden, Mkt Harborough in 1868 - but the finding of her and the family on the 1871 census living in Fortunewell, Dorset threw this out of the window. This earlier census is showing a different birthplace - Warden, Northumberland.

After looking through the whole of the 1868 register of births for all variations of the way Tearle was spelled without any luck at all, I started to look either side of the year, starting with 1869 then after that 1867 - and there it was: Tyrle, Frances Jane, Hexam in the final (Oct - Dec) quarter of that year.

I have now ordered a copy of her birth certificate which will then give Annies maiden name, so the search goes on. The postal strike is going to delay the arrival of the birth certificate, and it couldn't have come at a more inopportune time for me.

This finding has certainly raised my mums spirits, it is a difficult time for her (and the whole family) as my dad (Ken, as we all call him) is currently spending the start of his sixth week in hospital after some sort of infection. Ken has deteriorated quite rapidly on the Alzheimers front, going from an albeit slightly confused old man into a bedridden shell of his former self. It is breaking my heart to see my father reduced to the indignity of having to have everything done for him, right down to having liquidised food.

However, on the other side of the family spectrum I'm awaiting the imminent arrival of my own first grandchild, my eldest daughter Louise is due today (24 October 2009) and I'm writing this with baited breath.

I hope to have good news on at least two fronts within the next seven days, so watch this space.

Moving on

Another six weeks or so have passed and things are changing. My father is in hospital after getting an infection of some sort which has seemed to have rendered him unable to walk any more - he already had Alzheimers which has also been accelerated by his infection so now he is having trouble speaking too. He's been in almost five weeks now, and doesn't look likely to be out any time soon.
Mind you, I've been busy online scouring through the census information looking for clues. We had been under the impression that Gt Granny was related to a family living in Gt Oxendon (Leicester/Northants border) in 1881 as she was recorded as the grand-daughter in the census then. Have been looking and looking for the record of her in the 1871 census.
Mum and myself were looking through a family tree that my cousin had completed when we noticed he had recorded the date of the marriage to Mary (2nd wife we know now) as 1878, whereas we already knew Frances was born around 1868 so this got us wondering if her dad had been married before.
Mum had previously found a reference to an Annie "Tyrle" who'd died in 1877 in Little Bowden - where James Tearle lived, and we put two and two together and I started searching for her.
Bingo! Found both her and James Tearle in the 1871 census - he was aboard a training ship - HMS Bosecawan out of Portland, Dorset, and Annie was living in Fortunewell which is a district of the Portland area - along with Francis (Frances - daughter) and Minie, her younger sister.
This shows Frances and her mother Annie as being from Northumberland, though it's very difficult to read the town or city location.
Watch this space!

Epilogue

It's now over seven months since I returned from India. I have written to the military museum in Singapore who have responded telling me to look around the hotels in the harbour area. As this is what I did (and told them so) in the first place, I thought it was pretty bloody useless of them. A bit of a laugh really as I told them I'd visited and was now back in the UK!

I have kept in contact with the church in Mumbai, though they haven't been able to locate any clues as to the last resting place of my Gt Grandmother. The sad thing is that they are now turning out to be just the same as all the other Indians I met - just after my money. I now keep getting emails asking for donations.

One thing I have managed to find out, the ex-navy graveyard in Colaba area was closed in 1864 (30-odd years before Frances died) and has since been cleared for a childrens play area - No wonder no-one knew anything about it. The saddest thing is, the document I found on the internet stating this was downloaded by myself BEFORE the trip, I just hadn't had time to read it!

The ex-Army man I met on the train to New Delhi hasn't returned my letter either. So much for being helpful.

I have searched the internet and have found loads of references to the "Largest cemetery in Asia", thing is, there's loads of them, and none seem to be anywhere near Mumbai!

One thing I won't be doing is returning to the Taj Mahal with my special lady, we are no longer an item. The relationship couldn't stand the test of time (and family!) so I'm single again now - probably why I have found the time to update this blog again.

My search is by no way complete though. I have started to scan the online census files for further information.

More will follow if I unearth any revelations!

Bye for now

The end of the line

Went back to the church at 6pm only to find the sermon had already started and needed to return again at around 7.30. Duly obliged and was back sitting on the steps as the main doors opened. I'm not certain what branch of christianity it is, but it's called the church of St Andrew and Columba (Scottish Kirk) according to the sign, the congregation was all Indian and the whole place gave an evangelical feel.
The pastor confirmed what the navy guard had said, he had no knowledge of any local cemetery, the only one he knew of that was in use at the time Frances expired was one in a place I think he called Shiva, which, according to him is about 25 minutes outside Mumbai.
He also said it's the largest graveyard in Asia, and the second largest in the world.
Picking my way around that would take a month of Sundays, so I decided to take him up on the offer of doing some investigating for me and then emailing me the results.
It's not my idea of the ideal solution, but needs must!
I have left him with a copy of the death certificate and he has my email address on the back, if anything comes of it I shall put an addendum to this blog.
While dabbling on google I found another reference, this time to a graveyard by the meteorlogical observatory in Colaba, this is about half a mile down from the navy docks - I'd remembered where it was from the other day - so, not to leave any stone unturned, I decided that was my next objective - just to satisfy myself I'd done all I could.
The walk was more pleasant today, the humidity was slightly lower and a slight breeze, the result of the search was the same though - no cemetery there either.
It would appear all the google/wikepedia entries are incorrect - there doesn't appear to be hide nor hair of a burial plot in the whole area.
So. my work here is done, it's not the ending I'd hoped for, but at least I can say I've given it my best shot - and I still have two potential leads with the retired major and the pastor, so all is not lost.
Love to you all and I'll be back in your midst before you know it.
Signing off now.
Rich_India

Dead end street

Just couldn't let it rest - I was determined that today and tomorrow (which is a holiday here) wouldn't go to waste. Finally found the entrance to the Navy docks - there are two, one for vehicles, the other for people on foot. Today I took a copy of Frances Essex's death certificate to aid me in getting through the language barrier. The guard on the gate took it away, then came back and made a phone call - this was all in Hindi so I've no idea what he was saying, though I did hear him mention the European cemetery.
Her disappeared again then came back a few more minutes later and beckoned me to follow him. I thought my luck was finally in - no chance! He directed me to a church across the street and told me to go there. He said there is no cemetery in the navy docks. Well I could hardly argue with him! He had an oppo with an AK47 strapped across his chest! The church was closed so I have to go back at 6pm.

This is a country of over 1.1 billion people, and over 16 million of them live in Mumbai, that's without counting the tourists (Indian as well as foreign), so imagine my surprise to bump into someone I knew just up the road from Leopolds (the cafe attacked in the 26/11 terrorist raid),. The strangest thing is, his brother messaged me on facebook before I got here saying to look out for him! I never in a million years expected to though - just goes to show how small the world has become!

Told what you want to hear

Well, have spent all day Saturday trudging around Colaba and the surrounding area - it seems the cemetery I'm looking for is inside the naval base, and this is a restricted area which no-one I talk to seems to be able to tell me about. I also don't have a clue who to contact for this. So, my last resort on Monday will be to contact the UK Consulate - I have their telephone number.
There is one more thorn in this, Monday is a public holiday and I just hope the consulate is not governed by the local rules and sticks to UK holiday dates.
I did get to talk to what appeared a helpful local, he was a taxi driver-cum guide. He took me to what he thought I weas looking for, a cemetery near the local hospital, but the earliest marker I could find was from 1940, when asked he said it dated back to 1938 and I told him that I was looking for one dated 1897 he changed his mind and stated it went back that far - that's the Indian mentality kicking in again - telling you what they think you want to hear!
Another thing I have discovered, even in a metropolis as vast as this, the locals are just that - local to their own little area, take them outside the (probable) one square mile or so they live in and they haven't a clue where they are or where anything else is. I think this is the crux of why I am finding getting directions so difficult - I have to somehow get to within spitting distance of where I want, then ask.
Sunday tomorrow so am going to have a day of rest - have a busy time when I get home!

Colaba and the cemetery

Back in Mumbai Friday lunchtime (local time - 8.30am GMT) and traffic was horrendous - took almost two hours to drive from the airport down to the fort area - this trip I have done twice previously and both times took about 40 minutes!
I think it could be because it's Friday, though I haven't seen any difference with weekends - schools seem to open and people still work! It's a bit like the UK in the 1800's on that score - when the minions only had Xmas day off - that's when most of the baptisms used to take place!
Ventured out on foot to see if I could get my bearings - bought a street map but then left it in the hotel room. Needless to say I got lost and had to catch a cab back! I can generally find my way around places, but this area is so manic it's impossible to even remember which was is north and which south - the whole isthmus seems to be on a slant rather than as it looks on the map as being a north-south orientation.
Tomorrow I'll use the soft option and opt for a cab from the start.
Called into the local library to ask after the old Naval Cemetery, the person in charge spoke good English, but she was a little condescending - stating this is a library, not a cemetery! Well, I managed to bite my cutting remark back - something along the lines that I thought it was a place for the learned, that's why I called there!
Anyway, another chap in there told me Colaba was closed - not sure if he meant the naval cemetery or the whole town area, but I'll see tomorrow.
Thanks to the people who've commented - is making it a little less lonely (I think I'll be forgotten how to hold a conversation by the time I get back).

The final leg!

This is such a lovely clean place - quite the fillip after the dirt and degradation of India.
Spent 18 hours solidly asleep after the overnight from Mumbai and then trekking around the city with my back-pack on. Must have been exhausted.
Up at noon with renewed vigour, not finished here yet - back into the city and looking around the Asian museum - well, you never know! Nothing there so asked at the desk, they put me on the trrail of the tourist info centre, this was quite a walk - they all use busses and the metro. Found reference to a naval museum on the north of the island - where the old naval docks used to be. The girl on the info desk was pretty helpful too, she googled what I'd told her and got pretty excited when she found something - it happened to be my blog though, I almost felt sorry for her with the look on her face when I told her it was mine - she did give me the address of the museum though, opening times and directions to get there, so off I set on the metro, then a bus, then a 10 minute walk, the whole journey took about an hour. When I arrived I'd been told to report to the gate-house for a pass, as it's still a naval establishment. The guard was astonished I'd been sent there as the museum had closed pending a move last August, and hadn't re-opened in it's new location yet.
So, back to the city centre to take in the sights - met up with the Aussie I'd spoken to the day before, he was interested to know if I'd found anything. Nice he remembered me and made the effort to speak.
Back at the airport now, it's 5.50am local time, and looking to the last leg of the trip, Colaba area of Mumbai and the final resting place of Frances Jane Essex!

Singapore

Wednesday,
Sitting in an internet cafe in uptown Singapore - Chinatown - it's a bit un-nerving, been accosted by pimps and their girls (if they are that!). But, needs must, was the only type of hotel I could afford in this upmarket city.
It's the sort of place where you could blow a lottery win within a number of weeks - and I mean the jackpot win! It's a shoppers paradise, all the designer shops are here - then some more. A lot of these are underground, mainly due to the heat I suppose - 40 Deg today and it's winter here!
Arrived after overnight flight from Mumbai and what a difference, no smog!!!! I can breathe again. Also it's so clean, they really take a pride in their city here, all the while sweeping or washing down the streets.
Went straight to the dock area to continue my quest and find the whole area has been redeveloped over the last ten years or so, and all the waterfront is occupied by commercial buildings - except one which is an old(ish) hotel - The Fullerton. This also has been refurbished during the recent past so nothing I could find there. The only other hotel of note is Raffles, this is a sprawling building with at least three major entrances. It also has it's own museum, but all of it is dedicated to the hotel itself. I did ask the curator, but no joy there either. She also couldn't think of any other places I could try. Never stopped me wandering around though, and I came across an Irish Bar called Durty Nelly's (well, they call it that anyway) it was kept by a Malaysian, so I don't know what the connection to the Emerald Isle was.
Guinness at S$12.00 (about eight quid!) a pint, and no Jamesons!
The bartender was interested in why I was there but couldn't help either.
The Guinness went down a treat - the first proper drink of the campaign! Just as I was leaving I noticed a photograph in a cabinet in the resturant area. It was a boxer - but not Pop! Not to leave empty handed though, I got permission to stand on a high stool and photograph it.
So the trail goes cold here - I think I'm probably about 15 years too late.
I really need to pull my Great Grandmother's location out of the bag, to get a draw as Asia is winning 2-1 at the moment.
Will give the city another try tomorrow - after I've caught up with some shut-eye.
Then it's back to the noise and dirt of Mumbai........
Til the next time
Adios

Monday, Mumbai

Made my way back from beyond (Lucknow) - that was a 10 hour car drive to Delhi, and then a frantic drive round all the ATM machines we cound find to try to get some cash out - had lost my credit card in Lucknow and as it turns out, none of my other cards were set to be used abroad.
This has taken a 20 minute telephone call this evening to sort out. So thankfully I can continue on my way to Singapore tomorrow night.
Nothing more to report from here - except it's about 31 Deg C!
Hope you're all nice and warm wherever you are!

Lucknow!

Saturday 17th Jan
Up early and down for breakfast then out into the sunlight to start my search. I have a tourist map of the area supplied by Flip & John with the cemetery marked so should be fairly easy to find. (Or so I thought!)
Took one of the cycle rickshaws to the road junction marked and then out to walk.
I must have walked miles, backwards and forwards, criss-crossing the whole area, asking local police and army personnel (that is an experience as they all have rifles or shotguns slung over their shoulders). The English language here is very poor, and my Hindu is less than one word! So no-one seemed to understand what I was looking for. I even mimicked someone lying in state, but all they could do was direct me to a shop making beds!
3 1/2 hours in the morning trudging the dirty streets of Lucknow is no fun, particularly when every person you pass looks on you as something from another planet - people riding past on bikes trikes and cars all look back to grab another image of this white boy.
It becomes even more un-nerving as time goes on, especially as I was passing the same people a number of times on my treks backwards and forwards.
It was no good though, I couldn't find the graveyard anywhere - I did spot three enclosed spaces which may have been it, but the first was filled with railway sleepers and wooden cable drums as they were repairing the local line, the second was a walled/fenced area with a rusty gate and a shiny new padlock on it, but there were only a few shrubs in there, no sign of any headstones. The last was so overgrown I wouldn't have ventured in there had I spotted anything, no knowing what was in the undergrowth - couldn't see anything there either though.
So, the second leg turns out to be fruitless, but I didn't really expect to actually find anything here, Flip & John had the same result, even though they actually found the site.
I did try the local tourist office after lunch, but it was closed so no joy there either.
Another thing I am noticing more and more is the reluctance of local people to have photos taken. It's worse here than anywhere else I've been, with people getting quite aggressive. It's ok to take snaps of old buildings etc, but as soon as you focus on the daily life the shouting and waving starts. I've been forced to delete some from my camera by the police twice!
There has been a lot of media cover over the time I've been here about how Indian poverty is ignored by the rest of the world - this is in the light of the new Indian film sensation "Slumdog Millionaire".
However it's not surprising as they don't allow it to be portrayed! Before I came here I knew there were slums and beggars etc., but nothing prepares for the total depravation you come across all the time. Everywhere there are people there are beggars, and everywhere there are beggars there are slums. And the slums really are slums, in Lucknow the walls are brick - not bricks & mortar, just plain bricks stacked up then either a tin or fabric roof (sacking or woven nylon bag material mostly). The men urinate in the street, and the spitting is foul - most people chew some sort of tobacco and spit on the street, there are red stains everywhere.
This is the last place with internet connection until I get to Singapore (on 21/01) so take care everyone.

Friday, so up to date for a while

Overnight hotel in Agra looked pretty good from the outside - and first impressions of inside too! However, the service was a bit ropey, not to mention the amenities - hot water was through an individual immersion heater in each room - above the bath with the switch on inside of bathroom wall - if that wasn't enough to set the alarm bells ringing then nothing was. But too late, I'd already agreed and paid for the night.
Trying to use the shower was when my problems started, the heater had been wired by one of the many monkeys I'd seen running about (they're the main source of road-kill here) I think. When I finally managed to figure out how to get hot water I got my first shock - literally!
Off down to reception to complain and duty manager and a stooge with screwdriver and spanner arrived in a few minutes.
After much banging and shouting, then mopping of the floor they announced it was ok to use. I asked for a demo - the manager forced his lackey to test it, he seemed ok so I tried, the taps were no longer live.
Off they went and I jumped in to take a shower, turned water on and had to move shower head to catch the flow - bang! the next shock!
Got a further one when trying the hand-basin taps too so turned all the lecky off and decided on a cold strip wash and dry shave (with a wet razor - no fun there, my skin has softened up recently).
Not to worry - I'm still here to tell the tale, and if nothing went wrong I'd have no material for the blog. (It's ok Caroline, it didn't hurt, had higher voltages than that through me)
Did leave the hotel with a flea in their ear though, told them in no uncertain terms what they should do - never got me a refund, though I didn't really expect one - this is India remember, all they're interested in is your money.
Trip to Lucknow took about 6 hours - 400+ Km from Agra, and am shattered now I'm here.
Have ventured out into the outdoors, but not done any serious looking until tomorrow - a bit of Delhi-belly now ha ha!
Watch this space for tomorrows revelation!

Sightseeing

Updated from notes again:
Not going to bore you with the things I've seen along the way, suffice to say it's been an eye-opener amongst other things.
Must tell you that the Taj Mahal is all that has ever been written about it - and more. The beauty is not just to the eye, but to the soul too. It forces you to think of your loved ones, especially that special one!

On I go

Please note this is being updated retrospectively from my notes:
Really on a high after Ambala, though I have had a few problems. Have managed to screw up my netbook, so am having to rely on hotel hospitality. Have also lost my photos of Ambala town, though thankfully not the ones of the baptism book, phew!
Taxi took me from Ambala to Chandigarh airport to catch what I thought would be a simple flight to Lucknow! Now I know what they mean about the Indians - They will tell you what they think you want to know rather than the truth. Over the last two days I'd been pestering hotel manager to check on flights to Lucknow, he always said he'd look and never did (I think). It turns out there are no scheduled flughts to there from here - so I have to go back to Delhi and catch one from there. Well, no worries! Plane delayed by hour and a half, so no different to trains there then! On arrival in Delhi I found I had missed the last connecting flight and was told the next was in the morning, the price shocked me though, 8,625 Rupees, Mumbai to Delhi had been 3250, while Chandigarh to Delhi only 2625. Lucknow is further than Chandigarh, but nowhere near as far as Mumbai so I don't know how they justify that.
Decided on hotel room while planning next move, one just across the way from airport, and one of the cheaper ones I'd stayed at.
Taxi company inside so I enquired about cost of overland trip, manages to get hire of taxi and driver for 5 days for less than 300 quid, after air fare both ways and taxis & hassle I thought it a fair price. Also will be able to take in some sightseeing along the way.
Off to bed feeling rather smug about the whole day.
p.s. Flip, I know you're reading now from you're emails, the Rev. Bhatty has promised to email you to let you know we found it.
Take care all.

Tuesday 13th Jan

Went back to Ambala today, and visited the Rev. Bhatty again. The 'church' was all shut up - I thought he'd done a runner and didn't want to see me!
After a couple of minutes he appeared and led me to a small outbuilding. It had the appearance of a mall stable, inside there was a large square table and a patio chair. On this table were a number of old record books, big things. The one on top had a bookmark inside and the Rev opened it at this page. The bookmark was the copy of Pop's birth certificate I had left with him the previous day. The look on his face was not good though, he pointed at an entry and advised that was the nearest he could find - it was a Harry Richard rather than what I was looking for - Harry Edward. My heart sank, and so did my eyes - only to light upon an entry hidden in the crease of the book, all I could see was 'Frances Jane' and '18th Hussars', my heart was in my mouth as I prised open the tome, to reveal what I'd been looking for, so I'm now the proud owner of a photograph of the entry of baptism for my Grand-father Harry Edward Essex, dated 13th December 1893, Umballa (the British Army's fault), Signed by the Chaplain Wm Long.
What a result!

The Reverend Bhatty

Monday morning and a taxi-ride into Ambala, with the address of the oman Catholic church in my pocket.
The taxi driver didn't speak any English, so the hotel porter kindly explained where I wanted to go.
On the journey in I never had the same sorts of feelings as the day previous, maybe because I had by then realised that this place was just the same as all the other ones under the surface - a dirty, poor Indian town. After asking for directions from four different people, my driver finally pulled into the church driveway. The church itself was derelict - I found out later it had been bombed during a war in 1965 and the military had impounded the area! The 'new' church was the old rectory. When I got out a lady greeted me and after finding out why I was there she beckoned me into the sitting room and advised that Father Bhatty was at market and would be back shortly.
When he came back about 15 minutes later I explained about my cousins visit and how he had promised to investigate further. He looked totally bemused by all of this until I told him Flip's name - ' Ah, Fillipa-John' (her proper name is Phillipa), and reached behind a room divide and produced a photo of her (she must have made quite an impression - though not quite enough for him to follow anything up). Anyway, he asked me how long I was staying and said he could try to have something by the morning, I think he expected me to say I was off somewhere else, but I decided to stay another night and return the following day.

Delhi to Chandigarh

Sunday morning bright and early off to the main railway station to buy a ticket to Chandigarh - this is the next station up the track from Ambala, but with more opportunity to find a hotel. Ambala is only 45KM taxi ride away.
The railway station was teeming with people and after finding the ticket office I handed over a slip of paper with the train name and number along with my required destination. I was somewhat amazed when she asked me for 77 Rupees (about 1-10 in pounds) but didn't question it as the ticket had the required destination on.
The train was over an hour late - and turned up on the wrong platform too. It took me three attempts to board it, first there was a huge fight as people tried to get on one carriage, the next one I got on only to be told it was the wrong one for my ticket. Finally getting on in the cattle section - about 400 people in a carriage built for 72! Two elderly gentlemen saw I was confused and beckoned me to share their seat (bench of wood). We got talking and I told them of my plans, it turns out one of them was an ex-Army guy, a Major of the Indian Army who likes to investigate the military. We exchanged cards and he asked that I send him some information when I got home and he would try to find out what he could. That was an amazing chance meeting, in a train of over 25 carriages, I sit next to someone like that!
The journey took forever and was a real nightmare, however the people were very nice, sharing drinks, sweets and bread around - including me in the round too!
We stopped for a little while in Ambala station as the engine was changed, it gave me a bit of time to absorb the place. I do admit that it sort of got to me a little, being in the place where my Grand-father was born. However, this would have to wait until tomorrow and a visit proper.

Normal service to be resumed ASAP

Hi folks, against the clock here, internet in India is really pants!
On a dial-up connection costing me a fortune (in Rupees!) Will update as soon as possible, just as a taster, I've had some success! - AND I've seen the Himalayas!

Take care, and keep watching this space...

Beggars Belief!

Saturday and up fairly early for breakfast of omelette and toast though my body clock still thinks it's the middle of the night. Complimentary Indian newspaper which had me enthralled for a long time - some of the comments/customs would be looked upon with abject dismay in the UK. The oil strike which almost crippled the country is about over, the strikers capitulating under threat of arrest if they didn't! And the government have declared the weekend as normal working days for this industry to get supplies moving again. Any worker who refuses to go in will be instantly dismissed - just imagine companies trying that one in England - the unions would have a field day!
Then after coffee it was out into the sunshine - feels great to be in shirt sleeves after Englands zero temperatures. According to the TV and papers it should only be about 15 deg C, but it does feel much warmer than that.
The traffic here continues to amaze me - walking down what I thought was one half of a dual carriageway every so often something would emerge from the opposite direction - there doesn't seem to be any highway code here whatsoever. The locals were all walking on the road too - I soon found out why when I got off the main drag, pavements are nothing more than a sewer with concrete lintels spanning them to walk on.
The diversity here is even more amazing than it first appeared, most "shops" have a frontage of less than 10 feet and try to cram as much as possible on the path/sewer outside. This is another reason for using the road for walking. Little engineering premises appear along the way, with welding going on in the street. This all intermingles with the food stalls cooking samosas and nan bread. The aroma of these combined with raw excrement smells is something to behold and not recommended, I just hope it doesn't put me off entering UK curry houses!
My main problem was street beggars, I appeared to be the only westerner in the area and was like a magnet to them, they follow you for ages, tapping your arm and motioning eating to get you to part with some cash. No way was I going to get involved with this as the word would spread like wildfire. My half-deafness came in particularly useful for the first time here with my good ear to the road all I could hear were traffic noises. It's like a game of patience and poker rolled into one - testing my resolve and ability to keep an emotion-free expression. I didn't dare get aggressive or abusive or who knows what would have happened, me V's India wouldn't really be much of a fair fight.
All of this I have viewed on TV over time (and you all probably have too) but nothing prepares you for the real thing - the degradation, the heat and dust, the strange mix of smells, the noise and the amount of people and traffic. It really is indescribable and you have to experience it to know it.

My taxi to take me to the railway station tomorrow is booked, Chandigarh is next on the horizon as it's within a short ride of Amballa (Grand-dads birth-place) and the hotel is booked too.
Off for some dinner now - I think Indian. Ha ha!
Love to all.

Letter from New Delhi

Finally arrived in Delhi after a two hour delay, I now have a oil workers strike to contend with, most cities are reported to be running out of petrol etc and Delhi will be out at the pumps by tomorrow (Friday) so I'm not sure how all this will affect me. It couldn't have happened at a worse time for me.
Also the internet connection I'm using is running at snails pace - which is very poor considering the hotel is one of the better ones here! I haven't been able to get on my normal email account so am having to use an older one for quick (slow to send) messages.
Am going for some dinner now, having been stuck in an airport for hours with only a coffee bar for sustenance I'm starving. This will be my first proper test of Indian food as yesterday's meals were all on the plane. The next two days are more of a relaxation for me, one reason being the fuel mess, the other being a break before I venture to the place of my Grandfather's birth - Amballa

Daytime Thurs

Thursday 8th Jan.
I've had a short trip down to the Fort area of Colaba and paid a visit to the old Afghan church there. This was used by the British Army right back from 1848. Unfortunately there is no graveyard there. It seems that most of the burials happened about 80 Km outside the city, though the church guide didn't speak very good English so I had a bit of a problem in understanding. This is something I'll have to investigate when I get back here from Singapore.
Mumbai is a huge, strange place, slums are right next to more affluent areas with people even setting up little camp-sites on the sides of the roads. There are dogs everywhere, they even seem to curl up for a sleep on the highway! All the housing I've seen so far is way removed from anything I've ever seen before, there are corrugated steel shanty towns like the picture seen of South African Townships. The roads themselves are extremely poor, with even the more up to date areas being very bumpy. Some of it appears to have been dug up and then just left! The whole road surface - very odd.
The shops are amazing too – it seems that you can buy anything and everything at the side of the road. From the normal clothes, vegetables and other groceries, to car tyres, plastic, aluminium and even bricks, granite and marble slabs are available. I saw one building advertising X-rays (while you wait!).
Have also been to see the Taj Mahal Hotel – where one of the terrorist attacks took place, the lower floor windows are boarded up but apparently it is open for business. The Taj Mahal Hotel stands on the waterfront which is called the Gateway to India, this is probably where my Gt Grandparents arrived with the Army - and where Harry embarked on his sad return to Market Harborough. There is a tall monument there dedicated to King George & Queen Mary erected in commemoration of their visit December 1911.
Also drove past the cafe that was hit, this was open and bustling, so it looks like the terrorists lost as the message here is “business as usual” which is as it should be, we must never surrender our freedom to these sorts of attacks.
I'm now sitting in one of Mumbai's airports waiting for a flight to New Delhi as the trains aren't running today.

Arrival

08/01/2009
Thursday morning 2.00am local time in Mumbai and I'm sitting in a hotel room sipping a freezing cold beer and trying to unwind, it's a bit difficult as there are loads of thoughts going round my head. The flight landed at half past midnight (7.00pm UK time) and my first impression of this huge city is that it smells of burning rubber. I don't know if that is just the airport or the whole place yet.

The exit from the airport also left an impression on me, I have been to Heathrow to meet someone and there have been a number of people waiting to “meet & greet” arrivals, but nothing like this – it's after midnight and there must have been a crowd of over two thousand outside the terminal building waiting, with name cards and without. It was akin to seeing people queuing to get in a football or rugby ground, with barriers up to keep people back. I would think that whole families turn up to meet their loved ones arrive.
This must have been a far cry from the reception that George Essex and family encountered when they arrived by boat in the 1890's, though it wouldn't surprise me if the crowds had been there too!

Leaving the airport terminal in a taxi I notice that there are terrible slum areas very close by, with people sitting round little fires at the side of the road, I don't know yet what they have cooking in the large round pots, but I suppose I will find out before too long.
There are also plenty of derelict or semi-derelict buildings (and road-ways too!) around the airport. I don't know if this is a sign of all of Mumbai as I haven't ventured any further yet, though my next port of call is the railway station for a train to New Delhi.
So, this is it!
The country that George and Fanny Essex called home for a number of years – and probably still do seeing as they are six feet under somewhere in this massive country. The enormity of the task is hitting home now, it will be worse than looking for a needle in a haystack. At this moment I feel that I should have spent a couple of years researching the possibilities before embarking on this quest. But, hey! If I'd done that I probably would never have set out on the venture at all – this is probably my only chance to do something completely selfish in my life and I intend to do it justice!.
The second pint of Kingfisher beer is going down nicely now, and I'm drinking to “pop” - my Grandfather Harry, who left these shores one hundred and eleven years ago as a four-year-old orphan - and I'm sitting not more than a few miles from where he embarked!
The term “pop” is quite poignant too as it's what Louise calls me – nothing I prompted either, though I must admit to a certain sense of pride when she calls me it, it seems to reach into the annals of time, and gives me an empathy with the roots I'm trying to tie together.
I will close now, but I must apologise to any readers as there is no internet in this hotel so the blog will be late in being published, but in future I'll try to keep to a daily timetable. Love to you all, especially my daughters Louise and Shana, who are part of this trip even if they don't realise it – my roots are their roots – only deeper! And also to Caroline who is suffering so much because I'm away from her side.

Well, it’s finally here – tomorrow morning bright and early I set out on my own trip of a lifetime. It never seemed possible last summer when the seeds of an idea materialised yet here I am, on the eve of the first leg waiting with a mixture of apprehension, excitement and eagerness to start.
Heathrow airport beckons and the flight leaves at 10:05am UK time, landing in Mumbai at 00:30 local time which is 7:00pm in the UK. All the packing is now complete, the dog has gone off on his holidays to my mothers, arrangements made for the cat and hamsters.
I must admit that the last few days since the new year (where my youngest, Shana celebrated becoming a teenager on new years day) have dragged somewhat as I wait for the off.
I did get a little worried on Saturday as we had arranged an ice-skating trip for Shana as a birthday treat and, as a skating novice the thought of travelling with broken limbs etc wasn’t a happy one. In the end I was able to sneak off the ice after about 45 minutes and two pretty hefty tumbles, and take refuge in the cafeteria without anyone complaining.
My girlfriend Caroline is also off tomorrow on a holiday to Egypt so there is a lot happening at the same time – she flies from Gatwick about an hour before me and we have promised each other that we’ll wave at every other plane we see in case we pass each other. After the unrest in Gaza, she is understandably a little worried about her own trip (not to mention mine!) but her destination is quite a distance from the Egypt/Gaza border so there shouldn’t be any disruption to her plans or enjoyment. I do hope so as she deserves some relaxation after her busy Christmas and new year. I have to thank her and all her family especially for making mine and Shana’s Christmas and new year/birthday so special and for welcoming us both with open arms. It was most appreciated and I was close to tears on more than one occasion during the holiday break. I love you all and will be thinking of you during my time away – especially you Caroline, you have made me smile again in the few short months we have known each other and I look forward to the future with a happy heart.
That’s all for the moment, the next entry will probably be from Mumbai railway station so keep a look-out for more activity.

Nearer and Nearer

Saturday 20th December 2008
Well now, things are now starting to happen.
My company, Toyoda Gosei Fluid Systems UK Limited, finally closed it's doors for the final time on Thursday 18th Dec - which was one day earlier than planned, but as most of my friends and colleagues had already finished it wasn't a day too soon! This should have been a sad day, but I think we're spent out of sadness for the company over the previous few weeks and months when others left. It was a really special place to work, even though everyone who worked there used to call it something rotten, there was a real sense of cameraderie with most of the workers and I'll treasure loads of happy memories (and sad ones too) for the rest of my days.
I think the whole process has taken it's toll on me though, I'm not normally a person who is off work sick, but over the last fortnight I have had to drag myself in as I've been suffering with the flu-like bug that is going around. The final closure, along with the assistance of some antibiotics, is putting me back on the road to recovery though, and I plan to be fit and well for the start of my quest.
My visa came through and I collected it a fortnight ago so, with my redundancy money coming through I ventured back to the local travel agents last Friday to book the flights. This is now also complete, I collected the air tickets yesterday (Friday) and I fly out from London Heathrow on Wednesday 7th Jan at 10:05am arriving in Mumbai at half past midnight on the 8th.
My local chemist has also been most helpful in assisting with my anti-malarial treatment. I passed a rough guide to my travel plans and they investigated to ensure I received the correct drugs and information to give me the best protection. Everyone I come into contact with regarding this trip is showing a great deal of interest and are wishing me well in my search. This all adds to the intensity of the whole thing and I think I may be a little tearful when I eventually set off.
The one thing I'm not looking forward to is being apart from my special girls. Louise, my eldest daugher will be fine as she has a lovely partner who will look after her at least as well as I could, but leaving Shana (youngest) and Caroline (my sweetheart) behind will leave an ache in my heart which will be with me until I return. Both of you please be sure that you will be always in my heart and thoughts!
I have also recently received a letter from Flip in Australia along with a map of Lucknow where the graveyard they found the last time they were there is marked. She wasn't 100% sure if it is where George Essex is buried, but the dates on some of the gravestones bears out to the same time periods so it is something I will be looking into when I get there. While they were there some of the locals took offence to their presence and they were stoned, so it would appear that there is still some degree of hatred of the British even after such a long period of time since we handed back control to their own people, although I can't say I blame them as we were not the best behaved invaders in history!
She has also passed on the address of a priest in Amballa who talked to them and had promised to look further into the birth of Harry Essex, so this is another avenue I will be travelling along.

Christmas is now closing fast and my efforts should now be focussing on ensuring all my nearest and dearest enjoy the festive season so I won't be posting any more on here until the eve of my trip. Merry Christmas to you all and a happy and prosperous new year!

Shootings and Visas

Well, the atrocities of the other week have not dampened my enthusiasm one little bit, though I will now look on the trip a little differently. The shootings have made this more of an oddesy than just a little adventure. I would be a fool if I wasn't frightened by this, but I'm not going to let it stand in my way - if I did then the terrorists would be gaining a moral victory, and I'm not prepared for that to happen.
This has given me more of a reason to go, and I don't feel threatened by what happened in Mumbai, just more determined. I have now received my visa so the stage is set! All I need to do now is wait for my final pay-off from work so I can fund the trip.

My mother is so looking forward to me going too, she can't wait to see if I find out anything or if I can locate either grave, I would be kidding myself if I thought I would just stumble across something as profound as that, but I have been heartened by a story in our local paper (The Harborough Mail) of a couple who located their grand-fathers grave on a recent trip there. This was dating back to about 1923, and mine were both in 1897 so there is a bit of a difference in time. However, I won't give up hope of at least finding something of interest somewhere along the way.
I have called the National Archives in Kew to see if there was anything they could help me with but they didn't seem at all interested once I divulged that the birth and deaths were all in India.
The only information I managed to gain was that the inquest on Fanny Essex's death would be a local record so, if it still exists, it will be somewhere "over there" rather than in any UK archive. At least that's something!
I have copies of Grand-dad's birth and both death certificates which I will take with me. One thing that has struck me is that Fanny's death was registered in Lucknow, not Colaba where she died. I can only assume that this was because she was still under the jurisdiction of the British army and Lucknow was where the 18th Hussars were still based even though she had been moved to Colaba to await passage back to these shores. I just hope the local records are in Colaba as if the inquest was in Lucknow it would be an army record and I don't think I'd have much chance of locating that.
Mum has loaned me a really old photo of the whole family sitting outside their house which was taken around 1895 judging by the size/age of Grand-dad, my girlfriend, Caroline has offered to copy this for me which should be great judging by the graduation photo she produced for me last week, I'm looking forward to seeing the finished result. If I have time I'll scan it and post it here before I go.

THINGS ARE HAPPENING!

SATURDAY 15th NOVEMBER 2008
Moving apace now, I have been in discussion with the travel agents and found that the travel plans I had would not be very cost-effective. Flying from Kolkata to Singapore would not be a direct flight and would cost in excess of £850 for the single trip! They suggested flying from Mumbai which would mean completing a "round robin" type of tour of India. This is not a problem but might put an additional day on my travels.
I decided I needed to take a look at other flight options myself and, after half a day of internet investigation one afternoon this week (well it wouldn't be much use being IT manager if I couldn't!) I found it would be at least a couple of hundred pounds cheaper to do the two legs as complete round trips, i.e. UK to Mumbai & return at the start and end of the trip, and Mumbai to Singapore & return within that time. It means an additional flight but I can then plan the internal travel a bit better, staying in Mumbai and Colaba towards the end of the time rather than at the beginning.
The travel agent also gave me the contact of a charity in Leicester which specialises in India visa applications - it would appear that the Indian High Commission have 'farmed out' the visa application to a number of agencies who charge seemingly increasing amounts to process the application. The welfare in Leicester completes the whole process for a minimal amount and a donation to charity.
I parked in Abbey Park and walked up the Belgrave/Melton Road into the Indian quarter of Leicester. I was intrigued by the number of wedding shops peppered along this road. There seemed to be one every few yards, it would seem that these people view marriage as of tremendous importance in their lives. There was also the wonderful aromas floating on the gentle breeze - with resturants and fast food houses intertwined with the other shops along the route. It was quite intoxicating for someone who enjoys a good curry.
The welfare was a single fronted shop with just one room with a number of desks. There were about a dozen asians being dealt with or waiting when I arrived. I was a little apprehensive being the only white person in the area,let alone the room! I shouldn't have worried though, everyone was most helpful.
Even when they found out I was living in Northamptonshire - it seems that the rules had recently changed and I would need to go to London to complete the application. However, being very helpful, the girl on the desk noticed I had a referee with a Leicestershire address and asked if I could use that as a base address. As I'd copied the application form just in case I'd pre-filled anything incorrectly this was an easy task. The Leicestershire address was that of my mother so there would be no issue with the notification going to her address. After finishing off the form, I paid the fee and now I await the outcome - which I've been told is in around a week to ten days.
This has made the whole trip seem so much more real, it seems like things are starting to happen.

My new relationship is also moving along swimmingly, with the pair of us like a couple of teenagers, and really enjoying the time we spend together. It will be something of a wrench to leave Caroline behind for any period of time. One thing which will ease the pain is that she also is having a holiday in early January and this will co-incide with my trip.
There is also another happening on the horizon, Caroline's daughter Louise, is expecting her second child (they have just been admitted to the labour ward as I'm writing this blog) - have just received a text from in the ward that the time seems to be fast approaching.
Hoping all is ok and I'll be able to add the happy event in the next installment.