Family dynamics and a rediscovered grave

Family dynamics – how do they work? Are events propelled by personality, internal conflict or economic pressures? A sense of adventure, an escape and world events all play a part.

In recent weeks Swindon Borough Council have cleared a large area of the cemetery swamped by brambles, revealing some graves lost for years. One of the rediscovered plots is that of the Barnes family.

This double plot is surrounded by an elegant, black marble kerbstone memorial. Although still partially concealed, two names can be detected. From these slim pickings it has been possible to trace much of the history of this family, using a combination of sources beginning with the Radnor Street Cemetery burial registers.

On October 15, 1878 John Barnes and Elizabeth Jane (also known as Jane Elizabeth) Farmer married at St Mark’s, the church in the railway village. John worked as a plumber, most probably with his father Richard who was also described as a plumber on the marriage certificate. Elizabeth Jane was the daughter of Thomas Farmer, a mason.

At the time of the 1881 census John, Jane and their daughters Edith Ellen aged 1 and three-month-old Florence Beatrice, lived at 9 William Street. By 1891 they were still living in William Street where their family has increased by four sons – Harold E 6 years old, Ernest A 5, Herbert H J 3, and one-year old Frederick W.

By 1901 they were living at 5 Tennyson Street, their family complete with the birth of Edgar A in 1897. Their elder sons Harold aged 16 and Ernest 15 were both working in the building trade, Harold as an apprentice house carpenter and Ernest as an apprentice house painter. At a time when the railway works dominated the town, this large Swindon family worked independently and within the building trade. Maybe the family would look back on these times as the good years.

On September 4, 1907 18-year-old Frederick set sail for Australia. Perhaps the building trade had taken a temporary down turn, although that seems unlikely in fast growing Swindon. Was his departure a shock for his parents, or perhaps he had always been a daring, adventurous type.

bramble clearance 4 — Section E – cleared of brambles February 2019

But worse was to come. The first real tragedy struck on November 26, 1907 when 21-year-old Harold Ernest died, the first of the family to be buried in the large, double plot in Radnor Street and whose name is visible on the recently discovered grave. It was Harold’s death that gave me an entry into this family’s history.

The 1911 census confirms some details. Jane states that she and John have been married for 34 years and that they had eight children, 7 of whom are living and one who has died. The couple’s four sons are listed at home in Tennyson Street, including Frederick returned from Australia.

On Boxing Day 1911 eldest son Herbert Horace John married Kate Gray Hill at St Mark’s, the church where his parents had married.

The following year Frederick and his younger brother Lionel set sail on the Orvieto bound for Sydney, Australia. John and Jane would never see Frederick again. He died in Drummoyne, New South Wales in 1913. His name appears on the family memorial.

Lionel remained in Australia where he married Lucy Amelia Hunt, a girl from Wootton Bassett, in 1913. They came back to England at some point, but returned to Australia in 1951 where Lionel died in Drummoyne, New South Wales in 1963 aged 71.

William Street - Copy — William Street picture in 2019

On September 23, 1914 Herbert’s wife Kate gave birth to a baby girl called Freda but sadly they both died the following day. Kate and her baby daughter were the first of the family to be buried in the adjoining plot E8411.

With the declaration of war, the parents must have feared for their sons, especially when their widowed son Herbert enlisted with the Royal Marines Divisional Engineers. He later transferred to the Royal Air Force.

Herbert returned safely from the war to marry Mabel Homer in 1919. He died in 1959 and was buried with his first wife and their baby daughter in plot E8411. They share the grave with Herbert’s sister Edith Ellen Lucas who died in 1962 and her husband Ernest Lucas.

Another son served in and survived the First World War. Edgar Arthur Thomas Barnes, a motor engineer, joined the army at the beginning of the war and served in the Royal Army Service Corps. He was awarded the Military Medal for repairing a motor under fire and bringing three wounded soldiers safely to hospital. Edgar died in Lincoln in 1961.

Jane died in 1922 and John in 1924. They were buried in plot E8410 with their son Herbert and daughter in law Mabel Barnes.

Eight family members and a day-old baby are buried in the newly discovered double grave plot. Thanks to the hard work of the Swindon Borough Council team it has been possible to trace the events of the Barnes family history.

The Barnes family grave

Photograph of William Street c1910 published courtesy of Swindon Local Studies.

Coming next …

First Caretaker – It’s a long trek back home from the market to Clifton Street. I usually walk up Deacon Street and cut through the cemetery. Of course, in the old days you weren’t allowed to and if Mr Brown caught us kids, we were in for a right telling off.

published in Radnor Street Cemetery blog March 7, 2019.

Have you seen the doctor?

albert ramsden surgeon (2)

The re-imagined story …

Every Saturday Nan and me would come into town on the bus. We’d buy a bunch of flowers from a stall in the market and then walk up Deacon Street to the cemetery.

After we had spent a few moments looking at the wonky little headstone we would lay the flowers on the grave. Then I’d skip off down the steep path and out of the gate to Grandma’s house in Dixon Street, arriving at the front door ahead of Nan.

“Have you seen the doctor?” was the first thing she always said. Before “hello Marilyn, why aren’t you wearing a coat?” or “hello Marilyn I’ve got some chocolate cake in the pantry.”

Grandma was a wizen, little, ancient lady, who always dressed in black, I assumed in perpetual mourning for my dead Grandpa. Old ladies did that in my childhood. Of course, you don’t see that now. These days they get a tattoo and move on to a 50-year-old boyfriend. Grandma was my great-grandmother, someone to be revered and obeyed. That’s all changed as well.

When I was very young, I thought ‘the doctor’ was a relative of ours, but when I came to understand social politics I realised that’s wasn’t very likely; all the men in our family had been railwaymen.

Then one day Nan mentioned that the doctor was a surgeon, one of the GWR doctors employed at the Medical Fund Hospital. Perhaps he had performed some life saving operation on a family member. Perhaps that was why Grandma had been leaving flowers on the grave for more than 60 years.

Suddenly, as happens, life passed by. Grandma died and my much loved Nan took her place as the little old lady I took my children to visit on a Saturday afternoon. We didn’t call in at the cemetery first though as Nan lived just around the corner from us in Gorse Hill.

We talked about the past a lot, same as I find I do now, and then one day I asked her who the doctor was we used to visit in the cemetery.

She took her time replying and I wondered if she might have forgotten.

“When my mother, your Grandma, was young she worked for the railway doctors. The surgery was at Park House where Dr. Swinhoe lived, but the younger doctors lived in a house in London Street.” She paused for a moment and I sensed she was about to share a confidence that had not be spoken of for many years.

“My mother used to do the washing for the young doctors, keep the house tidy and cook them a midday meal, returning in the afternoon to finish her duties. Remember mind, she was only 15 or 16. That was a lot of work for a young girl to be doing. This particular day, she left the meal for the doctors and went home for her own dinner.

“Just as she was about to leave the house a young boy knocked on the door with a note for her telling her not to return to work as one of the doctor’s had suddenly died. She would be expected at work the following morning. She never went back to her job or the house in London Street.”

It was a sad story. “Grandma must have been very fond of that doctor,” I said.

Nan sipped her tea and I could sense that wasn’t the end.

“It wasn’t that Marilyn. No one explained to her what had happened, or why he had died. She thought she had killed him.”

“Killed him?”

“She wasn’t a very good cook. Her family used to tease her and say one day she’d kill someone. That day she thought she had killed the doctor.”

Views of London Street taken in 2019

The facts …

Albert Ramsden was born in 1852 the son of Charles Ramsden and his wife Ann. At the time of the 1851 census, the year before Albert’s birth, the family was living at an address in the Beast Market, Huddersfield where Charles worked as a dry-salter. A dry-salter was a dealer in dry chemicals and dyes and in the 1857 Post Office Directory Charles is listed as living at 9 Beast Market, a dry-salter and oil merchant. By 1861 he was employing five men and two boys and obviously earning enough to pay for his son’s education. That same year Albert was a boarder at a school in Ramsden Street, Huddersfield, run by John Tattersfield.

Albert moved to Swindon in 1881. At the time of the census earlier that year he had been lodging at 35 Bromfelde Road, Clapham where he was described as a medical student. He had previously worked for Dr John Sloane at his large practise in Leicester.

Sudden Death of a Medical Man – An inquest was held at Swindon on Wednesday, August 31^st on the body of Albert Ramsden, aged 29, who died suddenly on the previous Monday afternoon, at his lodgings No 5 London-street, Swindon, where he resided with four or five other gentlemen of the medical staff. It appears that deceased, when at dinner, rose suddenly and went into the drawing room where he stayed two or three seconds, and then upstairs. On entering his room shortly afterwards his body was found lying across the bed with the head on the floor. The four medical gentlemen present did what they could for him, but to no effect. Deceased it seemed had fallen in a fit, death resulting from a flow of blood to the head. A verdict was returned in accordance with the evidence. The deceased had only resided at Swindon three weeks, having been an assistant to Dr Sloane, of Leicester, for several years. He was a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and had passed his examination as L.R.C.P. only four weeks previously.

Leicester Chronicle and Leicestershire Mercury, Saturday September 10, 1881.

Albert had died during an epileptic seizure. He was buried in plot A137, the 14^th burial to take place in the new cemetery at Radnor Street.

albert ramsden surgeon

Coming next …

Family dynamics – how do they work? Are events propelled by personality, internal conflict or economic pressures.

published on Radnor Street Cemetery blog February 28, 2019

First impressions

The re-imagined story …

There was a lot of talk in the workshop about the new cemetery. We had a vested interest as undertakers, and wondered at the choice of location.

“Makes you wonder why the Local Board settled on that piece of land.”

“Must have been something to be made out of it for one of them.”

“It belonged to Mr. Hinton.”

“Enough said.”

“Which gate will be the usual entrance?”

The new cemetery was situated in the middle of Kingshill with an approach by four entrances at Dixon Street, Clifton Street, Radnor Street and Kent Road.

“I’m assuming it will be the Radnor Street one. That’s going to be quite a climb with a handbier.”

“Kent Road might be a better option.”

“Which ever way you approach from New Town there’s going to be a hill to climb.”

“Has anyone been to have a look?”

“It’s one big building site up there at the moment. There’s work going on in all the surrounding streets. I pity anyone who has to bury a loved one during the next few weeks.”

Little did we know we would be burying our own governor Mr Edward Hemmings just five days later.

The facts …

Edward Hemmings, a carpenter, joiner and undertaker, was born in Charlton Kings, Cheltenham. He and his wife Eliza lived in London between 1851 and 1861 and moved to Fleet Street, Swindon in the mid-1860s.

By 1871 he had a business at 43 Fleet Street and ten years later they were living and working at 22A Fleet Street. This may have been the original property, renumbered as building work continued in that area.

Following her husband’s death Eliza placed an announcement in the Swindon Advertiser.

Mrs Hemmings, of 22, Fleet Street, New Swindon, begs to inform the inhabitants of Swindon and the neighbourhood that she intends carrying on the business of her late husband Edward Hemmings, Builder, Carpenter, and Undertaker, and trusts to meet with the same liberal support bestowed upon him during the past 15 years.

Six years later the following announcement appeared in the Swindon Advertiser.

22 Fleet St New Swindon

Fredk. Hemmings

Builder, carpenter, & Undertaker

Begs respectfully to inform the inhabitants of Swindon and neighbourhood that he intends carrying on the business of his later Brother Edward Hemmings, who preceded him as above so successfully for many years.

F.H. begs to remind them that the same earnest attention to business, and care in the execution of all orders entrusted to him, will be paid, and that there shall be nothing wanting on his part to give the same satisfaction as heretofore.

Funerals Economically Conducted.

Estimates given for all Work connected with the Building Trade.

The Swindon Advertiser, Saturday March 11, 1882.

Edward was buried in plot A137 on August 11, 1881, the fifth burial to take place in the new cemetery. He was buried in a public or pauper’s grave where he lay alone for more than twenty years. In 1904 a child by the name of Frank Batt was buried with him.

Coming next …

Have you seen the doctor? – It was a sad story. “She must have been very fond of that doctor,” I said.

published in Radnor Street Cemetery blog February 21, 2019.

Standing at the graveside

The re-imagined story …

That first week she visited her baby’s grave every day. She stood by the small mound of freshly turned earth, every day. There would soon be a bench placed close to the grave. Somewhere she could sit and think about him, but today the cemetery was a barren, vast gash in the hillside.

A few trees remained scattered about, relics of the cemetery’s past when it had been a coppice ground called Howses.

And the new chapel stood in all its Gothic splendour, if on a small, parochial scale, the modest bell tower guarded by grotesques. But there had been no tolling bell for her baby, no headstone, no marker for there was no money to buy the burial plot in which he lay.

On the day of his funeral she laid flowers. The following day she bought a small pot plant and knelt on the soft soil and pressed in the roots with her fingers, reaching for her baby.

summer3

But the next day the plant had gone. There could be no permanent marker on this grave, for this was a pauper’s grave and even in the vastness of the new, now empty cemetery, soon there would be others buried with her baby. She didn’t know if this was a comfort or not. She hated the thought of him lying there alone in the cold earth, but she didn’t want to share this space with anyone.

Then just four days later there was another woman standing at that graveside, the earth freshly turned, again.

They looked into each other’s eyes and saw the grief, but they did not speak.

After that she stopped coming every day, now another child lay on top of hers, placing him a little further out of reach. She visited on a Sunday, sometimes, and always on his birthday and, so quickly afterwards, his death day, and then there were the other days, when she just wanted to remember him.

Shrubs were planted, headstones raised, she watched the grass grow and one day the bench appeared. Sometimes she would sit there and watch; the cemetery was a busy place now. Mourners left flowers set beneath a glass dome; she would have liked one of those for her baby.

She never met again that other mother.

The facts …

Albert Edward Wentworth was the second burial to take place in Radnor Street Cemetery on the day it opened, August 6, 1881. He was one-month old. His mother’s name was Lucy. Matthew Henry Bissell was buried in the same grave plot four days later. He was one-year old. His mother’s name was Susan.

Coming next …

First Impressions – “Has anyone been to have a look?”

published on Radnor Street Cemetery blog February 14, 2019