Samuel Gray – Lardy cakes

Samuel Gray was born in the village of Shaw and baptised on October 19, 1879 at All Saints Church, Lydiard Millicent. Samuel was the eldest son of Samuel Gray, a labourer in the GWR Works, and his wife Harriet. The family lived in the Elms, Shaw at the time of the 1881 census.

Samuel married Harriet Ellen Pile in the March quarter of 1903. By the time of the 1911 census the family were living in Shanklin on the Isle of Wight where Samuel worked as a Baker. In 1916 the family returned to Swindon.

Three years later Samuel bought a small property at 9 Bridge Street for £500 where he established his bakery and the legendary lardy cakes (see Miss Lorna Dawes and a life ‘inside.’) In the 1940s Grays had seven shops employing 120 staff.

Harriett died at the Cheriton Nursing Home, Westlecot Road on December 4, 1947 and was buried in Radnor Street Cemetery in plot C4898. Samuel died on April 19, 1963 aged 83 and was buried with his wife.

Deaths

Gray. – April 19, 1963, at 9 Downs View Road, Swindon, Samuel Gray aged 83 years. Funeral Wednesday, April 24: service at Immanuel Congregational Church, Upham Road, at 3.15 p.m.; interment Radnor Street Cemetery. Flowers to Smith’s Funeral Chapels, Gordon Road. (Tel. 22023).

Freemason founder of Swindon bakery concern is buried

The funeral of a prominent Swindon baker, Mr. Samuel Gray (83), took place at Immanuel Congregational Church, Upham Road, Swindon, yesterday.

Mr. Gray, managing director of Grays (Swindon) Ltd., of Bridge Street, and the Downland Bakery Ltd., died at his home 9 Downs View Road, Swindon.

For many years a member of Westlecott Bowling Club and a former president of Swindon Master Bakers’ Federation, Mr Gray founded the bakery firm 44 years ago. Since then it has grown into a large family concern.

He was a Freemason and was Past Master of Pleydell Lodge, Past Master of the Swindon Keystone Lodge of Mark Master Masons, a member of Wiltshire Chapter and Preceptor of Chiseldon Freemasonry Class.

The service was conducted by the Minister at Immanuel Church, the Rev. F. Ross Brown and was followed by interment at Radnor Street cemetery, Swindon.

Extract taken from The Swindon Advertiser, April, 1963.

Samuel’s son Cyril worked in his father’s bakery from the age of 13 and in the 1980s he was recorded as being the oldest working baker in Britain by the National Association of Master Bakers. In 2013 he gave his recipe for Gray’s famous lardy cake to Mark Child for publication in The Swindon Book where you can find it on page 145. As Cyril instructed – lardy cake is best eaten on the day it is made.

The recipe for the lardy cake is said to originate from Wiltshire although neighbouring West Country counties also lay claim. References to the lardy date back to the mid 19th century and as the name suggests is a lard based cake.

I have recently been contacted by Robert Gray, Samuel’s grandson, who has kindly sent me the following photographs of Samuel and (Harriett) Ellen.

Doreen Ind and the cemetery vandals

The re-imagined story …

I decided I’d join the guided walk around the cemetery on Sunday. I’d seen people on the walks before and to be honest I was surprised just how many turned out each time.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is radnor-street-walk.jpg

I lived in Clifton Street and had grown up on the cemetery doorstep, so to speak. As a kid I’d learned to ride my bike there and made snowmen on the rare occasions we had a fall of snow. It was my route to school and a short cut to town and as a teenager I’d walk through it most days to meet my mate Josh. It was as familiar to me as my own back garden. The cemetery held little fear for me, now, after all these years.

It had closed in the 1970s, long before I was born. Years ago, the council used to keep it nice and tidy. The wardens held various events here and I remember coming to a nature day and helping to put up bat boxes. These days it is very overgrown and neglected.

People began arriving at the chapel just before 2pm and as usual there was quite a crowd. The walk was led by a couple of older people. The woman gave us a short, potted history of the cemetery and the man told us a few do’s and don’ts. They were both quite funny actually, and made a good double act.

Then they led us around the cemetery, taking it in turns to talk about half a dozen graves and the people who were buried there. I was surprised at just how interesting it all was. I don’t know what I expected; something ghoulish and creepy, maybe a bit weird.

One of the old ladies started talking to me and took my arm as we were led away from the footpath and across the graves to where the two guides had stopped. I didn’t notice where we were heading.

“Do you think we could take the arm off?” asked Josh as he looked around for something to wield. “Wait up.”

He lived just a few doors from the cemetery gates and was gone just minutes, returning with a hammer.

“Go on. Have a go.”

I swung the heavy hammer but lost my grip and let it fall to the ground.

“Not like that, you idiot.” He began to swivel on the balls of his feet, like the athletes do when they throw the hammer. On the third revolution he let the hammer go. He was surprisingly accurate and the arm of the stone girl flew off.

“What the … Josh!”

We’d hung about in the cemetery loads of times, but we’d never done any damage before.

“Go on – have another go.”

“No.”

“Scared? Chicken?”

“It don’t seem right.”

“Well no one’s gonna complain. They’re all dead.”

I picked up the hammer. Perhaps if I just swung it around a bit maybe Josh would be satisfied. I raised it to elbow height and just as I swung it, a woman shouted out. I lost my balance and lurched at the memorial. The hammer flew out of my hands and knocked the head off the stone girl.

The woman continued to shout. As we turned round I could see she was keying a number into her mobile phone. No prizes for guessing who she was calling.

We legged it all the way down to the Radnor Street cemetery gate. I could hardly breath and my heart was beating furiously in my chest. We ran down the steep steps by the school and on to William Street, cutting through to Albion Street and the old canal walk, but Josh was laughing; laughing and laughing and laughing.

I’d have never done it – if I’d known the story of the girl and her dog – I’d never have done it.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is doreen-ind.jpg

The facts …

Doreen was tragically killed when the wheel of a timber wagon trailer ran over her body after she fell from her bicycle. The fourteen-year-old sustained multiple injuries and died at the scene of the accident in Stone Lane, Lydiard Millicent on August 23, 1938.

Doreen was the younger of George and Catherine Ind’s two daughters and with her sister Iris was cycling to their Aunt’s house in Upper Stratton when the accident occurred.

Iris gave evidence at the inquest held the day after her sister’s death. She told how the two girls were cycling round a bend in the road on Stone Lane, keeping as near as possible to the near side. Doreen was in the front and Iris behind her.

Iris described how a lorry with a timber wagon trailer approached them on the road. The wheel of the trailer knocked her sister’s wheel causing her to wobble on her bicycle. She tried to pedal, but there was no room. Doreen fell into the road and the back, nearside wheel of the trailer went over her.

“Before the wheel went over her I called twice to the man to stop.”

The funeral took place at St Paul’s Church on August 27 followed by the burial at Radnor Street Cemetery.

Doreen’s parents erected an unusual and poignant memorial to their daughter, depicting a girl holding out a ball to her pet dog. George died in 1947 and his wife Catherine in 1964 and they are buried with Doreen in a large double plot.

In 2009 a local resident walking through the cemetery disturbed a couple of boys attacking with a sledgehammer this unusual memorial of a girl holding out a ball to her dog. As you can see Doreen’s memorial is badly damaged, one of the last serious acts of vandalism to have occurred in the cemetery in recent years.

Doreen 4

Photograph of Doreen’s intact memorial was taken in 2000 and is published courtesy of D & M Ball.

Frances Priscilla Hunter – murdered by her sweetheart

*Goddard Arms Hotel published courtesy of Local Studies, Swindon Central Library*

Two young women each murdered by a sweetheart ten years apart have some striking similarities but a very different response from people in the town where they lived.

Swindonians were shocked by the murder of 19 year old Esther Swinford in 1903 but when Frances Hunter was shot by her sweetheart in one of the outbuildings at the Goddard Arms Hotel they were shocked but for quite different reasons.

Walter James White was told that Frances had previously been in a relationship with a married man. He went to her workplace at the Goddard Arms Hotel and challenged her.

In his statement he said that Frances had confessed she had disgraced him and she hoped that God would forgive her. “I told her she would never deceive anybody else as I was going to kill her.”

White was found standing over the young woman’s body, a revolver in his hand. He coolly advised the manager of the hotel to send for the police.

White’s defence counsel pleaded that White was in “such a perturbed state he was not responsible.” A petition signed by 4,000 Swindonians, including that of the mayor and deputy mayor, was sent to the home secretary pleading for mercy, but White was found guilty and executed at Winchester prison on June 15, 1914.

Frances lies buried in an unmarked, pauper’s grave in Radnor Street Cemetery. There was no funeral fund for Frances, no impressive memorial on her grave site.

Esther Swinford’s story is well known here in Swindon. Frances’s story seldom gets a mention.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is 0965f1168f9dc149004eeffb543a6210.jpg

Photographs from our recent cemetery walk.

Martha Scriven – in a desperate situation

The re-imagined story …

I knew what went on at No. 11; all of us girls did. And despite what our mothers believed we all knew what went on between a man and a woman as well; what we didn’t know was how to prevent the consequences. This was what led so many girls to come knocking on Mrs Stretch’s lodging house door, and not just girls either, women young and not so young, single and married.

But the case of Martha Scriven proved to be different. For one thing she didn’t live locally and she was a widow. It was only when the case came to court that the full details came out.

Martha Scriven was 27 years old and recently widowed when she came to Swindon in November 1895. With a three-year-old son and believing herself to be pregnant Martha was in a desperate situation. She travelled down from London shortly after the death of her husband to visit his family who lived at Can Court, a farm on the outskirts of Swindon.

You had to ask yourself why she didn’t stay with the Scriven family and not with Mrs Stretch but that was only one of many questions we asked each other.

She walked past our house a couple of times, usually in the company of a man, but it wasn’t what we all thought at the time. It turned out he was her late husband’s brother and he had put her in touch with Mrs Stretch who in turn knew Mrs Lazenby. We all knew Mrs Lazenby as well.

“There’s many a woman very grateful to Mrs Lazenby,” some said.

Not Martha Scriven, I can tell you.

Queen Street

Image published courtesy of Local Studies, Swindon Central Library

The facts …

Martha died on December 5, 1895. The cause of death was ‘exhaustion from peritonitis set up by punctured wound in the uterus and intestines.’ At the inquest the attending doctor thought it was unlikely Martha had been pregnant at the time the procedure was undertaken.

During the investigations a piece of slippery elm bark was found at 11 Queen Street. This was believed to be the instrument used to induce the abortion and which perforated Martha’s uterus.

Emily Lazenby was charged with the wilful murder of Martha Scriven and with ‘feloniously using a certain instrument.’ She was sentenced to seven years’ imprisonment in Aylesbury prison but apparently she did not serve her entire sentence. She was released on 13th September, 1900 to an address in New Swindon and a job as a French Polisher.

Mary Jane Stretch was sentenced to five years and sent to Aylesbury Prison. She was released on 18th May, 1899 to 29 Regent Street. Edwin Scriven, Martha’s brother in law who had made the arrangements, was also sentenced to five years imprisonment and sent to Parkhurst Prison. He was released early to take up a position as a groom.

Martha was buried in plot E7201 in Radnor Street Cemetery, a pauper’s grave. In 1902 Mary Jane Stretch was back in Swindon and living at 36 Catherine Street. She died in that same year and in a cruel ironic twist is buried in plot E7072 just a few rows away from Martha’s grave.

To Autumn

It is the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness and time for a virtual walk among the memorials at Radnor Street Cemetery.

Branches creak and the leaves are swept off the trees across the cemetery on the hill today. Doesn’t the cemetery look beautiful in its Autumn finery? But then it always looks beautiful to me. I shall don my raincoat and carry an umbrella as the weather forecast is not good, but you can put on the kettle, make a cup of tea and join me from the comfort of your sitting room. The sun is shining and I’m wrapped up warmly, so off we go.

These photographs have been taken across a 20 year period. There have been some changes. Remembering Mark Sutton.

To Autumn by John Keats

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
  Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
  With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
  And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
    To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
  With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
    For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
  Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
  Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
  Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
    Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
  Steady thy laden head across a brook;
  Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
    Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
  Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
  And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
  Among the river sallows, borne aloft
    Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
  Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
  The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
    And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Written September 19, 1819 and first published in 1820.

Or you may like to join us on our last guided cemetery walk of 2024 today, Sunday 27. Meet at the cemetery chapel 1.45 for a 2pm start.

George Hemsley – co-founder of the New Swindon Industrial Co-operative Society.

The re-imagined story …

My mum had a fantastic memory. She never forgot a birthday or anniversary and she could remember her Co-operative Dividend Number until the day she died.

She used to shop in the Co-op in East Street and knew Mr Hemsley, the secretary, well. George Hemsley was a railwayman from Gateshead and an influential character in the early days of New Swindon.

I began my fitter’s apprenticeship on the same day as Mr Hemsley’s son William, but while I spent 50 years in the Works, William Thompson Hemsley went on to enjoy a very different career.

W T Hemsley

I was pretty good at sketching (I’d even considered a draughtsmen’s apprenticeship at one point) so when William told me he was starting drawing classes at the Mechanics’ Institute I decided to join him. I had no idea just how good he was though, and before too long he was actually teaching the drawing classes.

He began his scenic art career at the Mechanics’ and it was my proud boast that I helped him paint the theatre scenery on one occasion. I had little to do with the design, just followed instructions, but it was an interesting project to be involved in and something to tell the grandchildren.

William kept in touch with Swindon, even after he became famous. We used to meet up for a pint in the Cricketer’s when he came back to visit family.

George Hemsley died on November 12, 1888. My mum always mentioned him on the anniversary of his death. My mum had a fantastic memory.

ND: Looks as if taken in 1890s

George Hemsley with his daughter and an unidentified man

The facts …

George Hemsley, a fitter and turner was an early arrival at the GWR Works, Swindon.

George was born on January 17, 1822 in Gateshead the son of William and Anne Hemsley. At the time of the 1851 census George was living at Quarry Field, Gateshead with his wife Mary and their 10-month-old son William. George most probably worked at The Quarry Field Works, a marine, locomotive and general engineering firm established by John Coulthard & Son in 1840.

By 1861 George and Mary were living at 6 Westcott Place with their six children, four of whom had been born in Gateshead. John Robert Hemsley, was the first to be born in Swindon in around 1858 which places the Hemsley family’s move to Swindon sometime between 1854 and 1858.

Tracking the family through the census returns we find them at 22 Reading Street in 1871. William Thompson Hemsley has followed his father into the Works where he is a fitter and younger brother John Robert’s job description is boy in foundry.

George was also co-founder of the New Swindon Industrial Co-operative Society.

George died at his home 22 Reading Street on November 12, 1888 aged 66. He was buried in Radnor Street Cemetery and his funeral arrangements were performed by Richard Skerten, a carpenter and undertaker.

Mary remained in the family home following George’s death, living with her widowed daughter Mary J. Rollins and her two granddaughters, plus Frederick Birch, a Grocer’s Assistant who boarded with the family. Mary died on December 19, 1899 and is buried with George.

‘Mr Hemsley was a staunch supporter of the local Liberal and Radical Association, frequently appearing on the platform at public assemblies and often putting his signature to the Nomination Papers of Liberal candidates at Parliamentary elections. He played a prominent part in the election campaign of Mr B.F.C. Costello in 1886, when the latter gentleman was opposed from the right by a Liberal Unionist and from the radical wing of the party by the Independent Liberal Sir John Bennett.’

A Drift of Steam by Trevor Cockbill

George Hemsley’s name appears on a list of more than 130 who formed a local committee at New Swindon to secure the election of Daniel Gooch in May 1865.

Swindon Advertiser May 22, 1865

Hemsley George

9 March 1889 Personal Estate £558 18s 11d

The Will of George Hemsley late of 22 Reading-street New Swindon in the County of Wilts Engine Fitter and Turner who died 12 November 1888 at 22 Reading-street was proved at the Principal Registry by William Thompson Hemsley of 57 Belvedere-road Lambeth in the County of Surrey Scenic Artist the Son and William Simpson of 7 Bangor terrace Jennings street New Swindon Engine Fitter two of the Executors

Rake Daddy Rake

Probably W.T. Hemsley’s most celebrated local work was a painting of the Wiltshire Moonrakers that hung in the reading room at the Mechanics’ Institute for at least 35 years. This painting of Wiltshire yokels raking the pond to recover the contraband hidden there accompanied the Moonies Association when they met for their annual gathering in London.

Photographs published courtesy of Mike Attwell and Local Studies, Swindon Central Library.

John Hudson Read – Driver of the Royal Train

The re-imagined story …

Father spread the newspaper across the kitchen table. It took him some time to find the report he sought as Mr Morris had seen fit to hide it on the fifth page of his periodical. The attempt on the Queen’s life had happened two days previously and was old news by then.

Father cleared his throat before speaking. In his melodious Welsh voice he announced – ‘An attempt to shoot the Queen was made on Thursday evening at Windsor station.’

Father had a magnificent voice. I loved to hear him sing in the Baptist Chapel in Cambria Place where we attended every Sunday. Mind he had some keen competition, lot of good Welsh voices there were there.

Mother was less enthusiastic. ‘Likes to hear the sound of his own voice,” she said, which I thought was a compliment – until I grew older.

That evening he read to us the report of the attempt on the Queen’s life. In his rich tenor voice he presented the scene – the poorly clad, starving clerk and the brave Eton schoolboy who belted him round the head, the crowds, the police – it was like something out of a Penny Dreadful!

We later learnt that the Royal Train on which the royal party travelled that day was driven by a Mr. John Hudson Read. And then would you believe it, two years later he moved into the house next door to us. There’s famous he was. I used to tell the story to my children but they were less impressed. I suppose it was old news by then.

The facts …

Attempt to shoot the Queen

An attempt to shoot the Queen was made on Thursday evening at Windsor station. The name of the miscreant is said to be Robert Maclean, who was poorly clad, and who states that he is a clerk out of employment.

The particulars of the foolhardy act are as follow :- The Queen, who had been spending a couple of days at Buckingham Palace, left London in the afternoon for Windsor Castle. The Royal train arrived at Windsor about half past five o’clock, a large crowd having assembled to witness the arrival of the Sovereign. On alighting from the train her Majesty at once entered a carriage which was in waiting to convey her to the Castle, when just as she was about to drive oft a man who had been standing with others at the entrance to the station yard suddenly fired a revolver at the Royal carriage, but happily the shot did not take effect.

The fellow was about to fire a second time, when the pistol was wrenched from his grasp by a bystander, and he was at once seized by the police, who, however, had some difficulty in preventing him being lynched by the crowd. It is stated that at the moment the pistol was fired the crowd was cheering the Queen, who, it is thought, did not hear the report; but of course her Majesty was quickly apprised of the attempt which had been made upon her life, and, with her usual solicitude for others, she at once caused inquiries to be made as to whether any one had been struck by the pistol-charge.

Some doubt exists as to whether a bullet was really fired or not, as no trace of one has been found. The pistol, which was a six chambered one, was found to be loaded with two blank cartridges and two containing bullets. Several other cartridges were found on the person of the would be assassin. Maclean is thought to be of unsound mind.

This is the sixth outrage which has been perpetrated on the person of the Sovereign. The first occurred in June, 1840, when the Queen was fired at by Oxford. The next was in May, 1842, the would be assassin being John Francis. Two months later a man named Beau presented a pistol at her, but without firing it. In June, 1850, her Majesty was struck in the face by a fellow named Pate as she was walking out; and in 1872 a lad named Arthur O’Connor presented an unloaded pistol at her as she was entering Buckingham Palace.

The Prisoner Before the Magistrates,

Windsor, Friday afternoon.

The prisoner was driven to the Town-hall in an open fly at half-past one to-day, in charge of Supt. Hayes and a plain clothes official. He has a very wretched look, and is a man very much of the Lefroy type. He looks unclean and unshaven, and has a slight black moustache. He was immediately taken before the bench of magistrates, the Mayor of Windsor presiding Mr Stevens, solicitor to the Treasury prosecuted on behalf of the Public Prosecutor. Amongst the magistrates present were Alderman Chamberlain, and Mr G. Poole.

In reply to the Mayor, the prisoner said in a most off-handed manner and in a firm voice that his name was “Maclean-Roderic Maclean.” Supt. Hayes was then sworn. – Mr Stevenson said he was instructed to prosecute by the Secretary of State.- Supt. Hayes that her Majesty arrived at the station at 5-25 yesterday. She was accompanied by the Princess Beatrice, and Mr Brown was sitting behind the carriage. As the carriage started and had got half way to the gate he heard a report, and looked to the left, when he saw the prisoner. Prisoner here asked whether he was allowed to ask any questions. The Mayor said certainly he would, presently.

Examination continued: He looked to the left and saw the prisoner in the act of presenting a pistol at her Majesty. He did not hear more than one shot fired. The prisoner was about 150 yards from the carriage where the shot was fired when he first saw the prisoner. He was holding the pistol straight out in the direction of the carriage. He immediately sprung on him, and collared him by the collar and neck. He stopped to take the pistol from him when a young man named James Burnside subsequently got possession of the pistol, and handed it over to him. He produced the pistol, which had been in his possession ever since; he put it in his pocked immediately he put prisoner against the wall, assisted by Inspector Fraser and others. Prisoner said, “Don’t hurt me, I will go quietly.”

A little Eton boy came up and gave him a blow on his head, and he then took prisoner to the police station, and when there he asked him his name and address. He gave his name and address, and said he had been in Windsor about a week. On the way to the Police-station in the cab prisoner said, “I was starving, or I should not have done this.” At the station when charged he said, “Oh, the Queen!”

He examined the pistol. It was a German pin-fire revolver; it had two empty cartridge cases in it, that was to say exploded cartridges. Three were full whole cartridges, and two chambers empty. He drew the cartridges, and produced them. He searched the prisoner, and on him found 14 other cartridges of the same make. They were in a piece of rag. He found other articles of no value, including a pocket book, a knife, etc. Amongst other things a letter was found. It was taken from him by Inspector Fraser. The letter was then read, in which prisoner stated that he would not have dared the crime had the sum of 10s been given to him instead of 5s being offered the insultingly small sum of 6s. He was compelled to commit this crime against the bloated aristocrat, headed by that old lady “Mrs Vic.”

Witness further said that at 10.30 this morning prisoner said he wished to make a further statement, “I have a complete answer to the charge.” He then wrote a letter which was now put in and read, in which prisoner said he was not guilty of shooting at the Queen with intent to do grievous bodily harm, his object was only to cause the public alarm, with the result of having his grievances redressed. Such was the pecuniary strait in which he was.

All the circumstances tended to prove this statement. Had he cared to have injured the Queen he would have fired at her when she was getting out of the carriage. As it was he shot at the wheels but the pistol kicked and the bullet might have hit the carriage door. The only consolation he could offer the Queen was this statement, and he offered it if the charge of intent to do the Queen grievous bodily harm was withdrawn, and a charge of attempting to intimidate others substituted he would do all in his power to elucidate the mystery, and to bring the matter to a speed issue. At the end of the letter prisoner said that was the whole truth. The prisoner was remanded.

The Swindon Advertiser, Saturday March 4, 1882.

James Haydon Wardall

The re-imagined story …

I was working as night porter and resting the day Mr Wardall checked in at the Albion. Polly told me he wasn’t looking well and that she expected I may be required during the night.

Polly was my sweetheart and we were saving hard to get married. We had met when we were both in service. We were ambitious and knew that we wanted more than a life of bowing and scrapping. We dreamt of opening our own little boarding house and being our own bosses, answerable only to one another.

We decided to get some experience in the hotel business before embarking upon our big adventure. It seemed to me though that there was little difference to being in service. The work was as arduous, the hours as long and there was still a lot of bowing and scrapping to be done.

It was early on in the season and only a few of the rooms were occupied. Throughout the night I kept busy with my usual tasks, alert to the bells and a possible summons to Mr Wardall’s room, but all was quiet.

The morning dawned bright and blustery with rain threatening but I followed my usual routine and took a brisk walk down by the harbour before returning to my room. I disliked working the night shift and could seldom sleep during the day, every noise in the hotel disrupted my slumber.

That day I was disturbed more than usual and eventually I rose and dressed and went down to the kitchen for a cup of tea. It was then I learned that Mr Wardall had died during the night and it was my poor Polly who discovered his body.

We left the Albion soon after that; I wasn’t sorry to go. We abandoned our boarding house dream.

Albion Hotel, Plymouth

The facts …

Military Funeral. – The Swindon Advertiser of the 28^th ult. records as follows the funeral, with military honours, of one who was known to many in this district, to which he is also related: – The funeral of Mr James Haydon Wardall, nephew of Mr J. Haydon, took place on Tuesday evening.

The deceased gentleman commenced his education at the old GWR Schools at New Swindon, under Mr Braid, and completed it at Edinburgh, whether he removed in 1866. On leaving school he was apprenticed to learn the trade of an engineer under his uncle, Mr John Laverick, at Edinburgh. After his apprenticeship he entered the service of Messrs. Douglas & Grant, at Kirkcaldy, Fifeshire, where he remained for some time; afterwards coming to Swindon, where he was employed in several shops in the GWR Works. Finally he obtained the position of draughtsman under Mr S. Carlton (manager of the Locomotive Department of the GWR Works). In June, 1885, he was offered the post of principal foreman in the Fitting and Turning Shop of the Bombay, Barolda, and Central Indian Railway at Parel, which office he accepted.

During his residence at Swindon, Mr Wardall was associated with several athletic clubs, including the Swindon Drill Hall Gymnastic Society, of which he was secretary on its formation. He was a full corporal in the F (New Swindon) Company of Volunteers for several years, and after leaving Swindon joined the Volunteers in connection with the company for whom he worked in India.

Latterly, Mr Wardall was prevented by ill-health from actively following his employment, and he decided to seek the benefit of a sea voyage, and came to England. He arrived recently at Plymouth, where his illness proved fatal on April 20^th.

The remains were conveyed to Swindon for interment, where his old volunteer friends resolved to accord him military honours. Long before the hour fixed for the funeral, the streets in the vicinity of the Works were lined with spectators, whose numbers were greatly increased, as the cortege passed the principal entrance, by the employees who were leaving work for the day.

A large number of volunteers assembled on parade, including the band of the battalion, numbering 32 men, one corporal, one drummer, and one fifer, from the F&G Co’s (New Swindon), under the command of Sergt. McCulloch, a total of 40; Bugle-Major J. Phillips, Armoury-Sergeant J. Westcott, 12 sergeants, five corporals, and 52 rank and file, the whole being under the command of the Sergt. Instructor of the Corps.

On leaving the residence of Mr T. Rice, 25 Gloucester Street, where the body had been removed on arrival from Plymouth, the band played Beethoven’s “Funeral March,” and the mournful procession proceeded to St Mark’s Church, via Sheppard Street, London Street, and Bristol Street.

The principal mourners, who rode in coaches, were Mr Lancelot Thomas Haydon (chief draughtsman in the Works, cousin to the deceased), Mr Thomas Butterfield Watson (uncle), Mr William Williams (Pontypridd, brother of the widow), Mr John Jones (uncle of the widow), Mr E. Jones (cousin of the widow), Mr T. Rice, and Mr F. Buckland, Mr James Haydon (uncle) was prevented from attending through illness.

Among others present were Mr J.B. Cartwright (captain of Swindon Drill Hall Gymnastic Society), Mr E. Head (sec.), Mr S. Warner, Mr H. Thomas, Mr B.J. Robinson, Mr J. Patton, Mr A.E. Murgatroyd, Mr Arthur Bowker, etc., private friends of deceased during his residence in Swindon.

The coffin, which was of polished oak, was covered with the Union Jack, and bore the deceased’s helmet and sword, which were surrounded by wreath of choice flowers, sent by Miss Wardall (sister), Mrs Thomas, old friends, styling themselves “The Boys,” the members of the Gymnasium, and others. The breast-plate was inscribed as follows:- “James Haydon Wardall, died April 20^th, 1888, aged 32 years” The pall-bearers were Armoury-Sergt. Westcott, Col. Sergts Horsington and Harrod, and Sergt. W.H. Lawson.

On arrival at the church gates the firing party lined up, and the procession was met by the Vicar (the Rev. Hon. M. Ponsonby), who read the first portion of the service in the church. The band played the “Dead March” in Saul as the cortege subsequently proceeded to the Cemetery, where there was a large attendance of the public. The volunteers formed a cordon around the grave, with the firing party drawn up, and, when the body arrived, it was wheeled to the graveside and lowered into its last resting place. The service was impressively conducted by the Rev. Hon. M. Ponsonby, and at its conclusion the firing party (a full lieutenant’s escort) discharged the customary three volleys over the grave. The Volunteers were then re-formed, and marched to the Mechanics’ Institution, where they were dismissed.

The Fife Free Press Saturday May 5, 1888

Wardall James H. 32 years Albion Hotel, Plymouth burial 24^th April 1888 plot E7997.

Radnor Street Cemetery burial registers.

Wardall James Haydon of Parel Bombay India died 20 April 1888 at the “Albion” hotel Plymouth Administration (with Will) London 4 February to Margaret Wardall widow Effects £140 14s

Emma Lavinia Watson – formerly of Eynsham

Now my Radnor Street Cemetery colleague Noel and I thought it was quite a coincidence when we realised we both had connections with the village of Eynsham in Oxfordshire, but imagine my surprise when I discovered the story of Mrs Watson, born and married (twice) in Eynsham but buried in Radnor Street Cemetery.

Emma Lavinia Goodwin was born on July 30, 1844, the daughter of Charles Goodwin landlord at the Royal Albert and brewer at the Crown Brewery, Eynsham and his wife Harriett. Emma was the couple’s fifth child and at the time of the 1851 census the family lived in Newland Street, a long street lined with stone built properties large and small, that ran from Mill Street and out of Eynsham to Cassington.

Emma married Harry Gibbons (farmer and butcher) by licence on June 4, 1861, shortly before her 17th birthday. Marriage by licence usually indicates a desire to marry quickly and unobtrusively and it looks likely that young Emma was already pregnant. Harry was the son of James Gibbons, farmer, grocer and another brewer with premises in the High Street. Was this a union of two brewing dynasties?

At the time of the 1871 census Emma was living at Acre End Street, Eynsham where today stone cottages rub shoulders with brick built ones crowding close to the narrow road leading to St. Leonard’s Church. By 1871 Emma was just 27 years old with five children, Harriet 9, Maria 8 (staying with her aunt and uncle on census night) Frederick 6, Sarah 4 and 3 year old Jane. She was already widowed, her husband Harry having died in 1867 aged 30. But Emma didn’t rush into a second marriage, which is quite unusual for the time. A young woman with five children to support often remarried within 12 months but perhaps Emma’s extended family helped to support her financially.

Maria Gomm nee Gibbons (Emma’s daughter) and her husband Thomas

Emma eventually married in the December quarter of 1873. Her second husband was carpenter and joiner George Watson. They continued to lived in Acre End Street where the Watson children soon began arriving! At the time of the 1881 census living with Emma and George were Jane Gibbons 13, Emma’s youngest child from her first marriage, and Augustus Watson 7, Lavinia Watson 4 and three year old Mary Watson.

Then, towards the end of the 1880s the family moved to Swindon where George most likely took up a job in the GWR Works. When the census was taken in 1891 they were living at 50 Clifton Street with their five Watson children, two of whom, William and Charles, had been born in Swindon.

When George completed the census returns in 1911 he made a bit of a mess of the form with numerous crossings out and alterations. The family were now living at 29 Tennyson Street and he records that he and Emma have been married 38 years and had 7 children all living. He lists Jane R. Gibbons, his stepdaughter, as being present on census night but then crosses out her name and adds ‘Croydon, Surrey’ so presumably this is where she was living in 1911. Staying with the couple on census night were their married daughter Lavinia Deans and her five year old daughter Ruth.

William Watson, Emma’s son – founder of Watson’s Typewriters Ltd., Glasgow.

Emma made Swindon her home for about 30 years and the funeral report indicates she contributed to community life at St. Mark’s Church.

Emma died aged 70 at her home in Tennyson Street on June 26, 1915 and was buried in plot E8626F on July 2. She shares the plot with her youngest son Charles Watson who died the following year aged 27. George Watson, Emma’s second husband, died in 1916 and was burried on December 6 in the neighbouring plot E8626E.

Death of Mrs G. Watson

The remains of the late Mrs G. Watson, of 29 Tennyson street, whose death occurred on the 26^th ult., were laid to rest in Swindon Cemetery on Friday, July 2. Deceased, who was 70 years of age, was a daughter of the late Mr C.A. Goodwin, a brewer, of Eynsham. During her residence in Swindon she took a great interest in the life of St. Mark’s Church, and she will be greatly missed by a large circle of friends. The first portion of the service was held in St. Mark’s Church, Canon A.G.G. Ross officiating. The rites at the cemetery were performed by the Rev E.A.W. Topley (All Saints’’) and the choir were augmented by that of All Saints’ Church, deceased’s eldest son bearing the cross. The inscription on the breast-plate was: “Emma Lavinia Watson, died June 26^th, 1915, aged 70 years.” The chief mourners were Mr. G. Watson (husband), Messrs A., E., W. and C. Watson (sons), Mrs. T. Gomm, Miss J. Gibbons, Mrs W. Robinson and Mrs E. Davies (daughters) Mrs and Mrs L. Deanes (son in law and daughter), and Mr E. Watson (grandson). A large number of friends were also present. There were numerous floral tributes.

The Oxfordshire Weekly News, Wednesday, July 28, 1915.

The tall chimneys to the left (High Street 25 Jan 1886) belong to Gibbons brewery –

I recommend a visit Eynsham online.

Albert Sykes – the father and founder of music in Swindon

The re-imagined story …

Mr Sykes asked me to sing All Things Bright and Beautiful. He listened very carefully; his head tilted on one side. There was a brief pause after I stopped.

“Well Ada,” he said, “I’m sure we can find a place for you in the chorus.”

I was so excited I could have given him a big hug, but that would have been entirely inappropriate. You didn’t hug a gentleman like Mr. Sykes.

My ma said I was born to sing. She said that I sang even as a baby in my crib. “You never wailed or screamed like the other babies,” she said, “you sang.”

I’ve been singing ever since. I especially love to sing in church. My favourite hymn is Rock of Ages, I love the rise and swell of the music. And I sing at my work, but I try not to be too enthusiastic as Mrs Morse has delicate hearing and she usually asks me to close the green baize door while I’m in the kitchen.

But I had never sung in public before and I never dreamed I would one day stand on the stage at the Mechanics’ and sing before an audience. I could scarce believe Mr. Sykes might even consider me.

It was my best friend Polly who suggested I audition for the chorus in the Mechanics’ Institution pantomime that year – Babes in the Wood, or Harlequin and the Cruel Uncle.

Opening night was just days away and this was to be our dress rehearsal. “Let’s put you next to Letitia, just follow her lead,” Mr Sykes had said at our last rehearsal. Letitia Jones was one of the principal singers in the chorus. She had a beautiful voice, a bit on the quiet side, I always thought, but melodious none the less.

Polly was waiting in the wings when I arrived. She was in conversation with Letitia and had her back towards me, but I could hear them talking as I approached.

“I hope Ada Firebrace doesn’t stand next to me again. She quite puts me off,” said Letitia.

“I never expected Mr. Sykes would engage her,” I heard Polly say. “I hoped he might tell her … you know … tell her what an awful voice she has. Then perhaps she would stop singing morning, noon and night.”

I stood stock still. Letitia had seen me walk across the stage and was grimacing and nodding at Polly with the intention of warning her that I approached. It was too late.

I never spoke to Polly again and I didn’t take part in the Mechanics’ Institution pantomime that year either. But I did save up my pennies and took some singing lessons with Mrs Sykes.

Ma says my voice is more beautiful than ever now. I have no desire to sing before an audience anymore, but I will always have kind memories of Mr Sykes.

The facts …

The Late Mr Albert Sykes

In accordance with the recommendation in the report, Mr Spencer proposed that a large portrait be obtained of the late Mr Albert Sykes, and placed in the Reading Room. Mr Sykes, he remarked, was a man who in his day and generation did a great work for New Swindon, and many men had been indebted to him for his musical tuition. Mr. Sykes was a useful man on the Council of the Institute, a capital librarian during the time he held that position, and he was also the father and founder of music in Swindon.

Mr A.W. James seconded the proposition, which was carried unanimously.

Mr Morris said he was pleased to know that the Council were thus going to recognise Mr Sykes’ services, and he hoped the same course would be adopted with regard to the late Mr J.H. Preece and the late Mr F.G. O’Connor.

The Swindon Advertiser, Saturday, May 5, 1894.

The two Sykes brothers were born in Leeds – Albert in 1823 and Joah in 1824. On the 1841 census they are living in Hunslet where their father John worked as a surveyor of roads. Albert was working as a mechanics’ apprentice while Joah was a potter’s apprentice.

Albert began work as a fitter and turner in the GWR factory in September 1847 later working as a shop clerk.

The 1851 census shows Joah still living in Hunslet with his wife and baby daughter. He is working as a whitesmith (someone who works with tin). Joah joined his brother in New Swindon around 1853 where he worked as a blacksmith in the railway factory. At the time of the 1861 census he is living with his wife and their five children at 1 East Place in a property they share with Peter Vizard, his wife and two daughters; Thomas Toombs, his wife and their three children and a lodger by the name of Jeremiah Walker!

By 1871 Joah and his family are living at 25 Reading Street, which remained his home until his death in 1910.

On first coming to New Swindon Albert lived in Westcott Place. Then he spent 20 years living in Fleet Street before moving to Victoria Road where he and his wife opened a music school.

Both Joah and Albert were talented musicians. Joah played the oboe and both brothers were involved with musical events at the Mechanics’ Institute where Albert conducted the Mechanics’ Institutes’ Choral and Orchestral Union.

The two Sykes brothers are typical of those early settlers who left their home, their family and friends to move to New Swindon and once here immersed themselves in the life of the community.

Albert died on February 27, 1894. His funeral took place on March 3, 1894 and he is buried in plot E8362 with his wife Mary Hannah, son Albert and nephew Herbert Francis Sykes – Joah’s son.

Joah was elected to the Council of the Mechanics’ Institution in 1870. He was a member of the Liberal Association with a reputation for being a radical and he was a member of the Methodist Chapel in Faringdon Road.

Joah died on February 17, 1910. He is buried in plot E8364 close to his brother Albert, with his wife Ellen and two of their daughters. Emily is described on the 1901 census returns as being an ‘imbecile from birth’.