It's time for another family history post. If you are new here, I write once a month about an ancestor. I began researching my family history fifteen years ago after discovering that one of my great-grandmothers and one of the Best Beloved's great-grandmothers shared a surname and both came from Devon. In my naivety I thought they may have been related to each other, but I didn't realise that Rendell is a common Devon surname until I searched the 1881 census for John Rendell and came up with hundreds of them. If you like jigsaw puzzles, Sudoku or detective stories it is a fascinating hobby, you have to find the clues and deduce the answer. I love it, and what I love about it is people's stories: I find a long list of names and dates very dry, I want to know where they lived, how they earned a living, why they moved to other towns. I want to get to know them and see if I can find anything of them in myself.
So today we are going to Deptford in Greenwich, by the River Thames, and you might want to get your hankies ready because this isn't going to end well. Robert Charles Abethell was christened in 1818, lived all his life here and died in 1886. I don't really know anything about his childhood but in 1840 he married Elizabeth Knight and you know what comes after a wedding...babies: Robert, Joseph, William, Thomas and Rosina. (Isn't Rosina a pretty name? I think it was quite popular in the nineteenth century, it crops up in several unrelated places in my family tree.) The family was poor, Robert worked as a wine porter and by 1851 they were living in Knotts Terrace, where Robert and Elizabeth lived until they died more than thirty years later. By 1861 Robert was working as a general labourer, as were his sons Robert and William, and by 1871 the household had enlarged: although Joseph, William and Rosina had left home, Robert Jr was still living at home now with his wife, Hannah, and children Robert, Thomas and Elizabeth. So, eight people aged 4 months to 62 years, three generations, living together. It sounds lovely as long as there was enough room and enough money, and I suspect there wasn't enough of either.
It was at about this time that 52 year-old Robert started having epileptic seizures - and please remember that there was no National Health Service at this time. By 1881 he was working as a wine porter again and I wish I knew what that actually was! Robert Jr and Hannah were still living with them and their brood had now grown to six children, so now they were a household of ten. I expect it was very cramped in the house.
Robert was still having fits and at around this time he started to suffer from frequent, painful headaches as well. By March 1886, five years later, his mood was very low - his family later said that he was depressed, scared of poverty and worried that he would have to go into the workhouse. Never mind worried, I think he was petrified. He was 67 years old and in poor health and Elizabeth was 76 years old and please bear in mind that there were no state pensions then.
One Wednesday night he went into the washhouse, stood on a chair, put a noose around his neck and kicked the chair away. His son, Robert, found him hanging there the next morning, quite dead. Thank goodness he was found by his son (although that's bad enough) and not one of the grandchildren. An inquest was held and the jury returned a verdict of "Suicide whilst labouring under temporary mental derangement."
But that was not the only sadness this family had to bear. Let's move forward almost twelve years to the beginning of January 1898, where we find Robert Jr's son, also called Robert, living in rented rooms a few streets away with his wife, Lily, and four young children - Thomas (surprisingly, not Robert) aged 4, Amy, aged 3, Lily, aged 1 and Rosie, aged 4 months. One day, Robert went off to work leaving Lily looking after the children. Shortly after 4pm, the three elder children were happily playing in a corner of the kitchen and Rosie was asleep in her pram, so Lily slipped out to go to the shops and buy some fish. She was only gone for fifteen minutes but when she returned, she opened the door and found the room full of thick, black smoke and flames. She screamed, "Oh, my children! My children!" which alerted the neighbours but nobody would go into the room because the flames were so fierce, so Lily rushed in herself to rescue the children who were, according to newspaper reports, "lying about the room writhing in the agonies of semi-suffocation".
First she grabbed Rosie out of the pram, unaware that she was already dead, and then she went back in and brought out first Lily, then Amy. A neighbour, Mr Hale, helped her to bring Thomas out from where he was lying under the table and all the children were taken into a neighbouring house. Messengers were sent for doctors and firemen, people came with buckets of water and by 5 o'clock the fire had been put out. Despite the best efforts of the doctors, the children were all dead within a few hours.
Poor Lily broke down at the inquest. Speaking of her neighbours, she said, "There were several people there but they let my poor children perish." The fire officer concluded that the children had climbed onto an armchair and taken the matches down from the fireplace, although Lily said that they had never played with matches before, and that they had accidentally set fire to the armchair. The London Standard reported that "the Coroner, in summing up, said one could not shut one's eyes to the fact that the fire was caused by matches, and that it was due to carelessness in leaving them about that the fire was caused. Children were unable to appreciate the danger of fire, and would get at matches in a moment if they had a chance." I don't suppose that was any consolation at all to Lily. The jury returned a verdict of Accidental Death.
I did warn you that you might need your hankies. These children were my second cousins twice removed, their great-grandfather Robert was my great, great, great grandfather. I feel very sad for them, but most of all I feel sad for Lily.
See you soon.
It was at about this time that 52 year-old Robert started having epileptic seizures - and please remember that there was no National Health Service at this time. By 1881 he was working as a wine porter again and I wish I knew what that actually was! Robert Jr and Hannah were still living with them and their brood had now grown to six children, so now they were a household of ten. I expect it was very cramped in the house.
Robert was still having fits and at around this time he started to suffer from frequent, painful headaches as well. By March 1886, five years later, his mood was very low - his family later said that he was depressed, scared of poverty and worried that he would have to go into the workhouse. Never mind worried, I think he was petrified. He was 67 years old and in poor health and Elizabeth was 76 years old and please bear in mind that there were no state pensions then.
One Wednesday night he went into the washhouse, stood on a chair, put a noose around his neck and kicked the chair away. His son, Robert, found him hanging there the next morning, quite dead. Thank goodness he was found by his son (although that's bad enough) and not one of the grandchildren. An inquest was held and the jury returned a verdict of "Suicide whilst labouring under temporary mental derangement."
But that was not the only sadness this family had to bear. Let's move forward almost twelve years to the beginning of January 1898, where we find Robert Jr's son, also called Robert, living in rented rooms a few streets away with his wife, Lily, and four young children - Thomas (surprisingly, not Robert) aged 4, Amy, aged 3, Lily, aged 1 and Rosie, aged 4 months. One day, Robert went off to work leaving Lily looking after the children. Shortly after 4pm, the three elder children were happily playing in a corner of the kitchen and Rosie was asleep in her pram, so Lily slipped out to go to the shops and buy some fish. She was only gone for fifteen minutes but when she returned, she opened the door and found the room full of thick, black smoke and flames. She screamed, "Oh, my children! My children!" which alerted the neighbours but nobody would go into the room because the flames were so fierce, so Lily rushed in herself to rescue the children who were, according to newspaper reports, "lying about the room writhing in the agonies of semi-suffocation".
First she grabbed Rosie out of the pram, unaware that she was already dead, and then she went back in and brought out first Lily, then Amy. A neighbour, Mr Hale, helped her to bring Thomas out from where he was lying under the table and all the children were taken into a neighbouring house. Messengers were sent for doctors and firemen, people came with buckets of water and by 5 o'clock the fire had been put out. Despite the best efforts of the doctors, the children were all dead within a few hours.
Poor Lily broke down at the inquest. Speaking of her neighbours, she said, "There were several people there but they let my poor children perish." The fire officer concluded that the children had climbed onto an armchair and taken the matches down from the fireplace, although Lily said that they had never played with matches before, and that they had accidentally set fire to the armchair. The London Standard reported that "the Coroner, in summing up, said one could not shut one's eyes to the fact that the fire was caused by matches, and that it was due to carelessness in leaving them about that the fire was caused. Children were unable to appreciate the danger of fire, and would get at matches in a moment if they had a chance." I don't suppose that was any consolation at all to Lily. The jury returned a verdict of Accidental Death.
I did warn you that you might need your hankies. These children were my second cousins twice removed, their great-grandfather Robert was my great, great, great grandfather. I feel very sad for them, but most of all I feel sad for Lily.
See you soon.
Love, Mrs Tiggywinkle x
Both stories are very sad. Poor Lily. It must be quite emotional for you when you find out stories like these about your ancestors. But at least their lives are remembered and you must feel a stronger connection to them from knowing more about their lives. And yes, I think Rosina is a lovely name. Have a nice Monday evening!x
ReplyDeleteVery sad stories. Sometimes getting into the family history reveals more than you might really want to know.
ReplyDeleteSad stories... but amazing that you've been able to find all this from records, archives and newspapers. Jx
ReplyDeleteOh gosh that is heart rendering isn't it. Trying to deal with such terrible tragedies with no state support or medical care must have been awful for people in days gone by. We have so much to be thankful for now don't we. It must be very interesting for you to find out so much about your family history and to then be able to pass it on to other members of your family and to have it all there for future generations as well. xx
ReplyDeleteGosh, that is a sad family tale. It's good to hear about how hard people had it as it makes you appreciate what you do have so much more. My dad had to deal with my grandmother with epileptic fits too. His father worked away from home all week pulling up old railway lines. My dad wasn't allowed to tell anyone about the fits in case his mother was deemed unfit to care for her children. He sometimes had to help her up to her bed, rush off to school and race home again to care for her at the end of the day. A worrisome arrangement for a young boy.
ReplyDeleteMy husbands grandmother and my own grandmother had the same last name too! Although there was an ocean between them, so I think we're ok ;)
Wendy
Gosh, that is a sad family tale. It's good to hear about how hard people had it as it makes you appreciate what you do have so much more. My dad had to deal with my grandmother with epileptic fits too. His father worked away from home all week pulling up old railway lines. My dad wasn't allowed to tell anyone about the fits in case his mother was deemed unfit to care for her children. He sometimes had to help her up to her bed, rush off to school and race home again to care for her at the end of the day. A worrisome arrangement for a young boy.
ReplyDeleteMy husbands grandmother and my own grandmother had the same last name too! Although there was an ocean between them, so I think we're ok ;)
Wendy
Oh, my goodness both such very sad events. As much as I love doing my family history it is very sad when you find out how things were for your ancestors. I recently found a newspaper report of the suicide of my great great grandmother - she drowned herself in a canal. According to the report she had a serious skin complaint which drove her mad and was suffering from 'religious mania' - how very sad that things like this can be dealt with nowadays. What things they had to suffer:)
ReplyDeleteOh I love family history. Though I don't have tie for it now, I look forward to researching my family, hopefully, in my retirement. So I just have to make it to 55 (Im 39 now) and then I plan on knowing as much as you about MY family!
ReplyDeleteOh I love family history. Though I don't have tie for it now, I look forward to researching my family, hopefully, in my retirement. So I just have to make it to 55 (Im 39 now) and then I plan on knowing as much as you about MY family!
ReplyDelete