Recommended Posts

My paternal great grandmother, Eva Burns Avery, was born in 1864 to Samuel and Marina Avery, both teachers, in Basford. Samuel taught at a school linked to St Leodigarius Church.

 

Eva married John Samuel Hudson, a very talented Leivers lace maker and designer, who had a dissolute side to his personality. They lived in many houses, including Brushfield Street, Sydenham Street, Salisbury Street and the Little Egypt area of Basford before moving to Beeston around 1910. Eva, a tiny little woman, had 8 children with the 6' 2" handsome John Samuel. They were Elsie, Eva, Kate (my grandmother) John Samuel (known as Jack), Horace, Harold, Gilbert Nathaniel and a child who died. Some of these babies were so large, Eva almost died giving birth to them.

 

John Samuel might have been talented but he was also mean to a degree with his money, which he preferred to spend in the pub! Local children would wait outside for him to emerge, when he would walk to the sweet shop, buy bags full of sweets and throw them to the urchins of Beeston before rolling home to 12 Chapel Street where his wife and 7 surviving children ran the gauntlet of his infamous temper. The only one who refused to be cowed by him was my grandmother, Kate, who cracked him over the head with a teapot on more than one occasion! It seemed to earn his respect.

 

My father remembered being taken out by John Samuel on Sundays, to Highfields, where they would walk for miles and, if John Samuel was in a good mood, dad would be allowed a toffee from the paper bag in his grandad's pocket. If he was in one of his tempers, dad would get cracked across the back of the legs with his grandad's walking stick!

 

Gilbert Nathaniel, known to me as great uncle Dick, often told me how he'd watched his father pitching empty beer bottles at the German zeppelins as they passed over Beeston in the first world war, whilst shouting abuse at the Hun! Gilbert, born in 1904, was too young to be involved in the conflict but Jack, Horace and Harold all tasted the terror of life in the trenches. Fortunately, they all survived.

 

John Samuel died in January 1935 and Eva lived on until 1944, gradually succumbing to dementia. She couldn't understand why food was rationed or why she was always in trouble for not observing the blackout. I never knew her but I often think about what a difficult life she must have experienced and so very different from my own.

  • Upvote 2
Link to post
Share on other sites

#23

 

I was one of those annoying children who DID ask questions of every elderly relative I met from first being able to speak and, believe me, I got myself disliked as a result. However, I did gather a lot of information and both my parents were persuaded to record their memories on tape. I've always been more interested in the past than the future!

  • Upvote 4
Link to post
Share on other sites

As a child, my maternal grandfather, Louis Saunt, lived with us and, as I've said in other threads, I owe him a great deal for the time he spent with me, teaching me to read and write at an early age and for introducing me to music and the piano.

 

I was very fond of Louis and couldn't understand why he was reviled by other members of my mother's family. George and Emily Ward of Garden Street, both cousins of Louis's deceased wife, Edith Elizabeth Ward, not only hated Louis, they despised the entire Saunt family. I soon learned that this was something I was not supposed to ask about but I did eventually piece together what had happened long before I was born.

 

Edith, born in 1889, was the daughter of Samuel George Smith Ward and Lizzie Thompson who eventually settled for many years at 24 Suez Street in Basford. Edith was tall, slim, good looking and always well dressed. In November 1908, she gave birth to a son, Frank, who was brought up as her brother because he was illegitimate. In April 1912, still unmarried, she gave birth to another son, Louis.

 

Studying photos of these children, it is clear they are Saunts because of certain, unmistakable features. Although Edith married Louis Saunt, senior, on Christmas Eve 1913, he was not the father of her two sons.

 

Louis Saunt, senior, born in 1883, had an older brother, William Henry, known as Harry, born in 1874. Another handsome devil, he married Minnie Frances Macer in London in 1901 but he returned to Nottingham from time to time which is where he met my grandmother, Edith. Whether, at the beginning, she knew he was married, I don't know but he caused a great deal of heartache. His own wife lost a child before giving birth to their only daughter, Joy, in 1911.By this time, they lived in Liverpool.  Obviously, unable to marry Harry, Edith eventually married his younger brother instead and they went on to have more children, Marjorie Lucy, Bernard and Eric (twins) Edna May and Gladys, my mother.

 

The marriage lasted until Edith died in 1947 but wasn't always happy. Her parents detested Louis and his family, saying they would rather have seen their daughter buried six feet underground than marry a Saunt.

 

Yet, to me, he was a wonderful grandfather who probably carried the can for his brother's misdemeanors. My mother told me that in 1934 when Harry died, her father travelled to Liverpool for the funeral. On returning home, he sat with his head in his hands and sobbed. The only time my mother ever saw him do so. Yet Louis hardly ever saw Harry, so why was he so upset? Could it have been what had happened in the past? Did Louis feel that he'd always played second fiddle to his wife's feelings for his older brother? Those are questions I can't answer and as great aunt Emily would have snapped: "Mind your own business. It's nothing to do with you! You want to know too much!"

  • Upvote 2
Link to post
Share on other sites

#21 Fly, Spot on, I had forgotten about the differences in the way we were as children and todays children. Questions weren't forbidden.We just didn't ask questions, I think we just got on with life and it never entered our heads that there was life before us? I knew a little about my parents. As a teenager, I had more important things on my mind eg 'Dancing,Work, Lads, Clothes. I really wish I had asked before it was too late. 

  • Upvote 3
Link to post
Share on other sites

Great uncle Horace Hudson was at home, 12 Chapel Street in Beeston, on leave from the army when the Armistice was declared in November 1918.

 

It was quite clear to Horace that his services were no longer needed, so he stuffed his uniform down a rabbit hole and prepared to return to civilian life, shrugging off warnings that the army would come looking for him if he failed to return to his unit.

 

Of course, the military police eventually turned up at 12 Chapel Street, looking for the errant Horace who had now disguised himself with the aid of a false moustache! As the MPs entered the front door of number 12, Horace exited the back door. There followed a very undignified chase round Beeston before Horace was eventually caught and carted away!

 

I've heard tales of great uncle Horace that make my hair curl, mainly from my father but also from Horace junior who is now pushing 93 and living in Cornwall!

  • Upvote 2
Link to post
Share on other sites

In order to try to rectify the loss of information due to all the reasons previously stated, I spoke with my last surviving uncle recently.  Now in his 90s, he told me about their younger days in Sheffield during the 1920s.  When the family had four children and were living in a back-to-back terrace with shared toilet down the yard, the mother ran away with a neighbour, taking her daughter with her but leaving my father aged 11 to look after my uncle, who was just 7 yrs old, and their father who was an invalid, whilst the oldest brother aged 15 went out to work to earn the bread.  That same woman, my paternal grandmother, had the cheek to beat me in front of a church congregation for being late to church one morning - she being a devout Catholic!  After my grandfather's death at the age of just 45 my father joined the RAF and the mother finally took the younger brother, leaving the oldest to fend for himself. Thus the family was truly broken and my oldest uncle never visited his mother in Nottingham.

  • Upvote 1
Link to post
Share on other sites
  • 2 weeks later...

Unfortunately I didn't know my paternal grandparents - they both died long before I was born.  I didn't really talk about family very much to Dad and sadly it is now too late.  Didn't know my maternal grandparents very much either (due to a bit of a family falling out).  I did grill me mam about her family and dad's - unfortunately she tended to embroider the truth somewhat and some of her recollections to me seem to differ to what my (much older) siblings were told.  Mam is no longer with us now either so I have to try to figure out what fact and what is fabrication!

Link to post
Share on other sites

#32

 

Even if you do manage to get information from grandparents/parents, etc, it still needs to be checked against official records because there are often startling discrepancies. The relative you've asked is very often only relaying information given to them and it isn't always either truthful or accurate. Not their fault and they can often be very shocked/upset when disabused of "facts" they've grown up with. Tread carefully!

Link to post
Share on other sites

I totally agree.  I have checked out what I can and most things seem to have at least a grain of truth.  Grandma Thompson did say we were related in round about way (you know the 2nd cousin one removed of a great uncle's brother sort of thing) to Bendigo the great bare knuckle fighter - but I can't prove it.  At least the name - Thompson - is correct ;)

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

#34

 

My maternal great grandma was born Elizabeth Thompson in 1865, son of John Thompson, born 1834, son of Benjamin Thompson born 1809, son of Joseph Thompson, born 1785, etc. We've gone from New Basford, via Lambley, Kirkby in Ashfield, Bilsthorpe all the way back to Laxton in those few names! You could be related to me, tabby!

Link to post
Share on other sites

#35

Grandma was Ethel Thompson born 1886. Daughter of Samuel Thompson born 1834, son of John Thompson born 1815 - although the last one is a bit iffy.  Tracing Samuel through the church baptisms seems to say he is the "base son" of Frances Thompson, whose husband had been transported to Van Diemen's Land in 1932 for stealing half a sheep!  Would be a great coincidence if we were related!

Link to post
Share on other sites

Wow! We were still sending convicts to Van Diemans Land in 1932! Well blow me down sport I didn't know that.   ;)

Link to post
Share on other sites

Tabby,

Have you got the wrong century? penal transportation was abolished in 1853, The name Van Diemens Land was changed to Tasmania in 1856. So it was more likely 1832 which was in the middle of the transportation period of 1804 until 1853.

 

Notwithstanding over 75,000 convicts were transported to Van Diemens Land around 40% of all convicts transported. It must have been a grim life, many had been transported for what today would have been minor offences.

Link to post
Share on other sites

I'm not sure where else it's sold, but  here there is an Australian red wine blend called 19 Crimes. Hubby loves it and once bought a case. The actual bottle doesn't list the crimes, but the case does. Not one says Stealing a loaf of bread, which we have always quoted, but one of the more unusual crimes is Impersonating an Egyptian!

  • Upvote 1
Link to post
Share on other sites
  • 4 months later...

Memory can stretch across several generations.

A Sunday Times journalist was researching a Family whose members on the female side had lived into their nineties, and had all married at least twice. 

He discovered a recording of one of them in 1920 or so, relating that her grandmother told her that her first husband would not hear a bad word against mr Cromwell.

You are also right about the pace of change over the last century. I remember one of the residents at Laura Chambers Lodge, a retired headmistress, telling me about a time when she lived in a large house in London. Her father had emerged from his study to find out why the servants were making so much noise. They had, it seems, just witnessed their first horseless carriage.

This same lady had stayed up in the lounge to watch the moon landing.

The past is a foreign country. Some people never want to go at all, some like to visit occasionally and a few want to live there.

Just keep committing the memories to this electronic paper, and we'll all leave something valuable behind.

  • Like 3
  • Upvote 2
Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

Loading...