The re-imagined story …
I haven’t visited the family grave for many years, the distance to travel was too far and life too busy. I remember being brought to the cemetery with my grandmother as a child. That’s what grandparents did in those days. I’ve never taken my grandchildren on a trip to a cemetery. I can imagine what their response to such a suggestion would be. But recent events have made me want to visit my hometown, touch the past.
For now I know my story was different and things were not as they seemed, as I was once told they were. The woman I thought was my mother was not and the family history my gran told me was someone else’s, not mine.
I was given away, not adopted, nothing as formal as that. I was just given away, generously, selfishly. It wouldn’t happen these days, but then, well, these things did happen.
Did I have a happy childhood? A good life? I can’t judge any longer. All I keep coming back to is it wasn’t the life I was supposed to have, but then I don’t know what that was either.
I thought I would remember where the grave was and that I would be able to easily find it. It was close to a path but the cemetery looks very different now; the benign neglect suits my mood.
When I eventually find it the headstone is blank, the inscription lost, disappeared along with my past. My beginnings forgotten, everything I know a lie, everything I am a mystery.
Please note that this re-imagined story has nothing to do with the Neate and Tyler families as mentioned below and is purely a work of fiction.
This headstone is a victim of weathering. Other deteriorating examples can be found across the cemetery, but this is the end result, when the surface cracks and eventually falls away.
It might seem that the history of those buried here is lost, but it is possible to piece together the family history.
A cemetery marker is propped up against the headstone. These should be treated with caution as many are in the wrong place, but I struck lucky with this one. Using the cemetery maps and grave plot registers I was able to trace the story of not only the people buried in this grave but those in the one next to it as well.
This is the last resting place of James and Dorah Neate. James was born in Box, Wiltshire and Dorah in Bruton, Somerset. They married at St James Church, Bath on October 30, 1877.
James worked as a railway engine driver and the couple moved about a fair bit. At the time of the 1891 census they were living in St Brides, Bridgend with their two sons. William 10 who had been born in Box, Wilts and Frederick 9 born in Weymouth, Somerset. By 1901 they were living at 7 Park Terrace (Faringdon Road) in Swindon. William and Frederick were both working for the GWR, William as a stoker and Frederick as a fitter. The couples’ last home was at 13 Jennings Street where James died in 1925 and Dorah in 1930.
James was buried in Radnor Street Cemetery on April 27, 1925 in plot D519. Dorah’s funeral took place on July 7, 1930 and she is buried in the same plot.
The collapsed pink granite monument next to James and Dorah’s plot is the grave of their son William.
Like his father William also became a railway engine driver. He married Elsie Maria Tyler at St Paul’s Church, Swindon on June 24, 1907. At the time of the 1911 census William and Elsie were living in Goodwick on the Pembrokeshire coast with their two-year-old daughter Kathleen Dora. They also had a son, Arthur William T. Neate, who was born in Wales in 1915.
William and Elsie returned to Swindon where Kathleen died in 1931 aged 22. William died at 30 South View Avenue, Walcot, Swindon on September 11, 1948 and Elsie died at 20 Castle View Road, Stratton St Margaret on December 13, 1968.
William, Elsie and Kathleen are buried in plot D520 next to William’s parents.
The Tyler family photo was shared on Ancestry by Debra Tyler on February 8, 2010. Elsie is standing on the left with her arm resting on her mother’s shoulder.