ROOTS REVEALED by Leap Gallery

ROOTS REVEALED

by LESLEY ANN PARKER Copyright, © Lesley Ann Parker 2023

Be warned, what I don’t know I may have made up…

A Family History

Dedicated to

Stewart Andrew William Buchanan, my only son & James Cameron Beggs, the only son of my cousin Fiona Leigh Adam Moffat (1964 - 2015) and her husband Richard Beggs.

‘Those we love don’t go away, They walk beside us every day, Unseen, unheard, but always near, Still loved, still missed and very dear, Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, Yet love leaves a memory no one can steal.’ Irish Verse

My cousin, Fiona Leigh Adam Moffat (1964 - 2015), great, great granddaughter of Henzey (Barratt) Skidmore.

WITH THANKS TO …all those who have read, corrected, advised, supported, inspired and encouraged, especially Lynne Noreen Arrol for her poetry in our traditional Scots language.

Genealogy can play an important role in reminiscing and this account of my family may trigger fond memories and stories from your own past. Senile decay is recorded on many death certificates from the past, probably now referred to as dementia. It is suggested that reminiscing can play an important role in reducing the use of medication and may even benefit those suffering from dementia. Please read on and I hope you are inspired to capture your own memories and perhaps write them down too.

PREFACE There are many formats to follow when finding your past and I hope my particular way of setting out the information will delight and inspire the reader. I was happy to discover coincidences, skills inherited by future generations, interesting stories and family secrets. I was very close to my maternal grandparents Mary and David Moffat, my splash of Irish blood comes from his grandmother who was born in Donegal (my mother said the birthmark on my back is the shape of Ireland) and Mary was the source of most of my information, and how I wish I had written this down at the time. David and Mary Moffat were married on 24 March 1923. Coincidentally I married my true love on 24 March 2021. My mother’s first husband was 12 years older than her. My husband James is 12 years older than me. The difficult choice for me was where to start, the maternal or paternal line? My father comes from a very large family which would prove a daunting task as he was a man of very few words. He was close to his mother and fortunately inherited some very interesting items which certainly inspired me to look further, a birth certificate with the name Thomas Telford and an original oil portrait miniature of his paternal grandmother Jane Ann Marshall. These didn’t come into my possession until he died and on further discussion with his sisters years later I remembered I had a cousin Chris Hay who played for Celtic Football Club (1993 - 1997) and discovered that James Parker a relative, a newspaper journalist, died of a heart attack at Airdrie Railway Station while covering the story of Peter Manuel, Scotland’s worst serial killer, who was hanged at Barlinnie Prison in 1958. Another relative, Richard Parker, drowned in 1912 when RMS Titanic struck an iceberg killing more than 1500 passengers and crew. Apparently a family member invented a lamp for miners but perhaps Humphry Davy patented the design first, or could this be the inventor Robert Parker who invented the first electric car? Some stories do need clarification. I also learned that my father was a Ten Pound Pom, the UK emigration assisted passage scheme to help populate Australia. His visit was short and according to my mother he claimed that God told him to return home and marry her and I was the result of that journey. After gathering much information through desk research, chatting with relatives and building my family tree online I decided to go back to my maternal roots and begin with a journey made by my ancestors in the late 19th century to follow work from Wolverhampton which was experiencing industrial decline to Gartcosh, thriving due to the growth of the iron industry.

Left (Circa 1930, Henzey Barratt Skidmore shown still dressing in mourning clothes since the death of her husband over 30 years ago, with her great granddaughter Dorothy Mary Moffat.)

6 CONTENTS

PAGE

1 HENZEY OF STOURBRIDGE

2 THE SCUDAMORES

3 IT’S ALL IN THE NAME…

4 HILLTOP VILLA

5 AFTER THE WAR

6 SECRETS

7 FINDING NORA AND THE OTHER GLASGOW BOY

8 THE SKIDMORES OF STAMFORD HOUSE, AMBLECOTE

9 WARNING, NEVER SET SAIL WITH…

10 THE TEN POUND POM

11 HENRY VIII AND HIS TRUE LOVE

12 BRIDGES

13 EIGHTEEN HOMES AND STILL COUNTING, MAYBE

1 HENZEY OF STOURBRIDGE Henzey Barratt Skidmore, my great great grandmother, was ambitious for her family and could see industry declining all around her. The family lived at 44 Bilston St, Bilston, Wolverhampton when it was part of Staffordshire, England, with everything on the doorstep and even a theatre on the same street. Employment included Tailoresses, Warehouse Girls, Boot Binders, Boiler Makers, Coal Miners, Sheet Iron Shearers, Bedstead Fitters, Dressmakers, Puddlers and Brass Dressers. On the 1881 Census the family were listed as Henzey (Age 28), her husband Edward (Age 31) and their four children Mary Ann (Age 8), Edward (Age 7), Alfred (Age 4), Henzey (Age 11 months) and 15 year old general servant Mary Chillington. The children in this household were all born in Staffordshire, Wolverhampton. The baby born in Warwickshire, Winston Green. Both parents were born in Worcestershire, Dudley. Coincidentally there has always been a bottle of Worcestershire Sauce in the family larder, I guess a taste that has lived on through the generations. Henzey had already started to pack sentimental family items, some of which I still have over 130 years later. Her father, a well known and talented shoemaker Paul Barratt was putting the finishing touches to a children’s chair, made specially for his granddaughter Mary Ann as a family heirloom to be passed down only to those children called Mary. He encouraged Henzey to look to Scotland for cleaner air as he had heard of the new iron industry in rural Gartcosh with accommodation provided. A place in the countryside where the men could walk to work and possibly clerical jobs for the women until they married. Edward, her husband was a Sheet Iron Worker and he too was worried about the rising crime locally. Conscription meant young men waiting to be called for the Boer War were spending their earnings on alcohol so drunkenness was a problem in the streets. The area had been infamous for the Bilston Cholera epidemic. Nationally, crime was on the rise and he didn’t need much persuasion when he read about the grotesque murder of the daughter of a previous neighbour, Catherine Eddowes, who lived at number 50, the 4th victim of Jack the Ripper. By 1891, ten years on, the family left The Black Country - the coal mining and the air pollution from glass making and iron. They were safe in the small, but thriving village of Gartcosh, in the county of Cadder, Scotland, where the name Skidmore would live on for over 100 years.

2 THE SCUDAMORES You may have already guessed by the title of this chapter that I am in fact referring to the Skidmores. When my mother was researching our maternal line she was in touch with someone who informed her that Skidmores could trace their way back to the Scudamores of the 14th Century. The French name of Scudamore appears to have been anglicised to Skidmore. Sir James Scudamore (1558 - 1619) was a jouster, soldier and courtier to Queen Elizabeth I. He must have been an impressive sight in his suit of armour made of gold, steel and leather and particularly stood out with his heart shaped shield. It’s fascinating to learn that his suit of armour was restored by and is displayed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, having been found in the ancestral home in Herefordshire called Holme Lacy. Originally sold to a dealer who valued it at £2000 who then went on to retail it for £15,000. Holme Lacy is now a hotel owned by the Warner Group. This Grade I listed mansion, built in 1674 has 181 bedrooms and is set in 20 acres of gardens in the Wye Valley. ‘SCUDAMORES’ Ma maw traced Skidmore ancestry Back tae the 14th Century! An "quelle surprise!" - a link tae France! Sir James Scudamore - no by chance. Thon motto on his heart shaped shield, "L'escu D'amour," hus been revealed As Anglo - Norman fur his name. Aye, "shield of love" wus his surname! Noo Scudamore hus been revised Tae Skidmore - it's been anglicised. Wi monie ither spellin's tae But ma fam'ly spell it this way. Sir James wus way back in ma line Jouster an soldier. Unco fine. An Courtier - ah'm fit tae burst! Tae Queen Elizabeth the furst! Poem by Lynne Noreen Arrol 2023

3 IT’S ALL IN THE NAME Henzey is a most unusual name and not often heard in genera,l but growing up, this name was used lovingly, almost daily either referring to relatives past away such as great, great grandmother Henzey Barratt Skidmore (1852 - 1931), her daughter Henzey Anderson (1908 1986), born in Gartcosh, who lived for a time in Bournemouth or Henzey Norah Patterson (1929 - 2006). Also her daughter, born in Bournemouth, who studied in Glasgow and often visited her family in Gartcosh. My great, great, great grandmother Henzey Dilworth, born in 1830 was the first to have the name and her 4th great granddaughter Henzey Norah Patterson was the last. For 176 years this name would have been heard every day by someone in our family. It was Henzey Barratt Skidmore who travelled from Wolverhampton to Gartcosh, where I was born many years later, for her husband to find work and for her to make a new home and give me an interesting starting point for my memories to share with all the family. Family tree research shows that often the christian name of the mother is passed down to the first born daughter, surprisingly this was not the case as my great grandmother was called Mary Ann and it was her younger sister that was named Henzey. I’d like to think that Mary was a name chosen by my great great grandfather as I know that he very lovingly handcrafted a child’s chair to be taken to Scotland with Mary Ann and then passed down the family only to those called Mary. It has been passed down four generations and now me, the fifth, has this chair by default, only to own it as it belonged to my mother Dorothy Mary Moffat. In 1901, my great grandmother’s brother Edward and his wife Florence called their first born daughter Henzey, unfortunately she did not survive the day and I recall my grandmother Mary Moffat telling me about her mother visiting with her condolences and being terribly upset and saddened by the sight of such a tiny white coffin. In 1909, my great grandmother’s sister Henzey and her husband Thomas J Anderson, called their daughter Henzey Barratt Anderson. She hated her name and did not want to pass it on to her daughter because she always had to spell it and explain it as everyone always got her name wrong. It is often misspelt on official documents, sometimes as Henney, and even as Henry posing dreadful problems for family tree researchers looking for a girl and finding a boy. Sadly her daughter was born early after she had fallen down stairs and the baby was not expected to live through the night. Initially she slept in a drawer for a cot and was fed milk through a dropper by a wonderful nurse who took great care of her. As a result her husband, George Patterson, in 1929 rushed out and registered the birth before agreeing her name with his wife who was recovering and called her Henzey after her Mum and middle name Norah after his wife’s much loved sister. His wife was most annoyed. Many years later when this baby Henzey Norah was married, she decided to call her first born daughter Lesley Lynne Beattie after her cousin and best friend, my uncle Leslie Moffat (1923 - 2006). This lasted only two weeks as her husband John actually got down on his knees, and begged her not to call their daughter an epicene or unisex name as he had had enough trouble explaining his wife's name Henzey to his friends

10 and work colleagues. She gave in and her daughter’s birth was registered with the name Lynne Noreen Beattie. (Noreen meaning little Norah). Their second child was named Rona Lesley Beattie. This is a good time to mention that in Scotland my uncle mentioned above was referred to as Leslie, but in England as David. He too obviously didn’t like his name but his mother (my grandmother) sent her husband David Moffat (1897 - 1981) out to register the birth. He decided to wet the baby’s head on the way, had one too many drams and instead or registering Leslie Thomas David Moffat, he either mistakenly or intentionally registered his son as David Thomas Leslie Moffat - so the poor boy had two christian names all his life as his mother refused to allow anyone in Scotland to call him David. Lynne had a great escape, as when I was born I was either to be called Davina (female version of David) or, probably with much discussion between my mother Dorothy and her cousin Henzey Norah to be called Lesley Ann so there would be no confusion as to the gender of this child. For information the girls spelling ends in ‘ey’ and the boys in ‘ie’, just to add to the confusion. It was easier to call myself just Lesley in the business world until as probably the first female print sales representative on the road cold calling I heard the buyer tell the receptionist to tell him (referring to me) that he was too busy. Reprinting my business cards to read Lesley Ann Parker opened many doors that might otherwise have been closed. Unfortunately even in the 1980’s doing a man’s job was still quite unusual. Hopefully not many books, blogs, plays or movies will be called Henzey so by a twist of marketing genius, this one will be easy to locate in any search engine.

* Coincidentally, best friends Leslie and Henzey Norah both died in 2006. David Thomas Leslie Moffat on 5 February, age 82. Henzey Norah on 19 July, age 77.

Left to right, Christina Norah Anderson with her sister Henzey Barratt Patterson. Their father Thomas J Anderson, mother Henzey Anderson and her niece Henzey Norah Patterson about 1946. ‘WHIT’S IN A NAME?’ Whit's in a name? Weel there can be Clues tae yer fam'ly history. In oors, a name no passed tae me Wus guy unusual. It's HENZEY! Maw, Gran an Great Gran haid the name An naeb'dy knew frae whence it came. Ma Da haid aw ways tae explain (an here ah mean time an again!) That HENRY wusnae ma maw's name Each conversation wus the same. "She IS a wumman, ah tell you!" An then he'd hae tae spell it too! Ah Googled Henzey oan the net An found mair than ah haid found yet Aye, ah found Genealogy 'Boot fam'lies wi a pedigree Aye, noble families no less Wan cawed Henzey! How did ye guess?

12 An Tyttery an Tyzak too Anurra link tae France! Who knew? Fur De Hennezel wus the French name De Thietry, Du Thisac - the same. "Gentiles - hommes verriers" ye ken Thon means Glassblowing Gentlemen. The Huguenots fled frae Lorraine Tae England tae escape the pain O' persecution fur ye see Back in the 16th Century French Protestants feared fur their life An fled frae France tae escape strife. Some went tae Newcastle - on -Tyne An Stourbridge where "relies" o' mine Hailed frae. HENZEY DILWORTH frae Lye 'S o' int'rest tae me - an here's why. Noo Lye's aboot a mile away Frae Stourbridge an her name's Henzey.

Like her, in 1829, (Here yer guess is as good as mine) Wus HENRY BARRATT look an see Cuid be the same person maybe? Note - Henry Barratt's a FEMALE! Recurring problem in oor tale! An Barratt is a fam'ly name Cuid these bairns be wan an the same? Baith frae the Stourbridge area Enough tae make me say, "Ah ha!" Turned oot it wus the same person Oor search fur Henzeys carries on. Frae Huguenots tae present day Ah hope tae find a link some way Could we aw be frae the same tree? It seems guy logical tae me Tae keep the fam’ly name alive As a forename it wuid survive.

Poem by Lynne Noreen Arrol 2023 Photograph by Lesley Ann Parker 2023

4 HILLTOP VILLA Hilltop Villa, a semi-detached Victorian property stands proudly at the highest and most central point in Gartcosh. Across the road once stood the Episcopal Church, demolished in the 1990's due to dwindling attendances. On the other side the village hall, bus stop and diagonally across the Co-Operative buildings. Officially at 68 Lochend Road, the long rear garden of Hilltop sits on Woodneuk Road with a row of private houses behind and opposite these a row of council maisonette style houses. The primary school is a few steps away but future plans are in motion to build a new school due to a growing population. Access to the children's play park was on Woodneuk Road and led to a lane behind Kirkhill Road. Gartcosh has a fascinating history and was bequeathed by two ladies on the understanding that there would never be a public house and a catholic church. This explains why Chapman's Bar was built just outside the boundary of the village at the very bottom of the south of Lochend Road. The post office, which has since been demolished, was at the bottom of Lochend Road. When John Thomas Blincow purchased this property he moved in with his children as well as his second wife Mary Ann, (my great grandmother) who he married in 1909, and her two children. The first change he made was to install a boiler to make washing clothes easier for his new wife. He was convinced his first wife Lizzie Hodges died as a result of having to visit the freezing cold washhouse in all weather with the family laundry. He must have enjoyed this experience of working with the building trade as in due course he went on to build all the private houses on Woodneuk Road. From the 1911 census he was still working as a furnaceman, age 42. His daughters were listed as Louisa age 17, Gertrude 15, Frances 12, his sons Allan Hodge 14 and Arthur 9. Mary Ann was age 38, her son George age 14 and Mary age 12. A niece May Blincow was on this census as well as his young son John Thomas aged 10 months that he had with Mary Ann. Mary (my grandmother) and Frances, due to being the same age, were great company and friends for each other. With 11 members in this household there must have been busy washing and cleaning days as well as lots of home made food being baked and cooked, with lots of produce from the large vegetable garden being used. This family could never have foretold the future events that would change their lives forever, caused by two World Wars, disease and a faltering economy.

15 As a child going to primary school, I passed Hilltop regularly and growing up stood across the road, in its shadow, waiting on the bus to take me to work as my mother and grandmother did before me and never was it discussed about the tragedy, drama and intrigue that took place within the walls.

5 AFTER THE WAR As Gartcosh, and elsewhere in the UK celebrated Victory for Europe Day on 8 May 1945, my mother Dorothy Moffat (1926 - 1997) also anticipated the safe arrival home of both her brother Leslie (1923 - 2006) and her fiance, Kenneth Frederick Bates (1916 - 1978). Despite the 12 year age difference, maybe less, (age recorded differently on various records) they adored each other and he affectionately nicknamed her Dot. Like many mothers, especially of young boys, it must have been a terrible wrench for my grandmother when her son Leslie was called up at just 16 years of age to serve in World War II, which started on 1 September 1939 and ended on 2 September 1945. For a young boy who was extremely clever at school and a star performer in the operatic society this must have been a dreadful blow to the opportunity for him to be the first in the family to go to University. When he returned as a 22 year old adult six years later, there must have been insurmountable joy for his parents and sister but also for the rest of his family including Henzey Norah Patterson. After all, eventually she chose his name for her second daughter Rona Lesley Beattie. His sister Dorothy, my mother, also chose his name for me, Lesley Ann Parker. There were others in the village of Gartcosh who did not come home or were badly injured so although Leslie arrived home all had not been good for him. During the war, serving as a Rifleman with the King’s Own Scottish Borderers (14326801) he was sent to Burma where he caught malaria. He was hospitalised at IBGH (India Base General Hospital) in Secunderabad, Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh, India where he was given a heavy dose of penicillin which developed into a severe allergic reaction resulting in the possibility that he could go blind. He was flown back to Scotland, sent to recuperate in a Glasgow sanitorium where he was visited by a young aunt Celia who remembered seeing his eyes completely bandaged. Luckily his eyesight was saved but malaria infection can affect the blood cells and have long term health repercussions. Thereafter he was susceptible to infections so had to be aware of his weaker immune system, but otherwise enjoyed a long and happy life. On his return to Gartcosh from the war, he studied religiously and passed the entrance exams to join the civil service. He didn’t stay in the village long, broke up with his fiancee Audrey and moved to central London where he had a successful career as a government Tax Inspector. I understand he audited the accounts of the rich and famous and may have inspected the accounts of Cliff Richard, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and others who were registered in the district where he served. He married Iris Adam in 1954 and they had one daughter, my cousin Fiona. He never returned to live in Scotland, but did buy timeshare at Craigendarroch, Ballater as he loved to visit once a year, probably inspired by his fondness for the Braemar Gathering, the most famous highland games in the world. He regularly phoned home to his mother, who was always concerned for his safety, particularly during the 1970’s to let her know all was well with him when the IRA bombing campaign included London as he travelled regularly on the Underground and walked through the city streets to get to his office.

Within months of returning from World War II Dot and Ken were married. The wedding took place on 14 September 1945 at St Andrews Episcopal Church in Gartcosh. The bride was 19 years of age and had found employment as a clerkess in the Steel Works, having previously been a member of the Land Army. She lived at home, where she was born, 25 Woodneuk Road, Gartcosh, with her parents Mary and David Moffat who was a Steelworker. Ken had been a Private in the Royal Army Services Corps and lived with his parents Lucy Alice (Barber) and Robert Frederick Bates, an Iron Founder, at Kilree, Cookes Lane, Rudheath, Northwich, Cheshire. They were married by Rev Gunn, Rector of St Vincent Church, Edinburgh and their witnesses were R R Bates and 36 year old Christina Norah Anderson (1909 - 1950). Amongst those attending were Jessie Garrett and her 5 year old daughter Celia. The happy couple were soon settled at 27 Lee Drive, Castle, near Northwich, with the groom's parents. A postcard sent from Dorothy’s brother shows them still living there in August 1950. Perhaps living with the in-laws is not the easiest of situations and may have been one of the reasons for Dorothy leaving the marital home and returning to Gartcosh, as by 1952, age 24 she was studying Fashion Display at Stow College in Glasgow. As Dorothy had left or abandoned Ken without his consent he would have had to wait two years to petition for divorce and he did this on the grounds of her desertion. He was now living at Brook Lane in Rudheath. Divorce was still a significant stigma in the 1950’s and Dorothy would be well aware that she would be unable to remarry in the Episcopal Church. It would not be until 2002 when that became acceptable. I learned from Celia, who had attended their wedding, many years later that Ken did not want children and this may have been the final straw for my mother. He was profoundly affected and probably traumatised by man’s inhumanity to man. Five months prior to their wedding his troop was possibly one of the first to liberate the Bergen- Belsen Concentration Camp. He would have witnessed the most horrific atrocities, emaciated bodies, the dying beside the dead, no food and bodies left to rot. The camp was originally built to house a population of 7,300 but as the Allies advanced the Germans organised ‘Death Marches’ moving prisoners from other camps until 60,000 were at Belsen. Many died walking across the frozen fields and if they could not walk they were shot. Ken would have witnessed the bodies of some of the tens of thousands who died there, including Anne Frank and her sister. News of the torturous conditions were relayed to the BBC in London but it was not believed or reported until Richard Dimbleby the renowned journalist threatened to leave his position unless his reports were made public. Sir Dirk Bogarde, the heartthrob English actor who was in the British Army and part of the liberation of Belsen also gave a very moving interview about his eyewitness account. I hope Ken had a healthy and happy life as we all must remember our past and continually work towards a better future. Writing this I am reminded of the little porcelain cup my 3rd great grandmother gave her daughter in the 1890’s when she left home in England to move to Gartcosh. I have kept it safely and it is a souvenir cup from Wolverhampton with the crest and motto ‘ Out of Darkness, Cometh Light’.

DAVID THOMAS LESLIE MOFFAT

DOT & KEN BATES

20 ‘AFTER THE WAR’

Noo Victory in Europe Day Fell oan a Tuesday, by the way. Aye, 8th May 1945 When folk wur glad tae be alive. The time fur fightin’ wus noo past Fur World War 2 wus o’er at last!

An folk took tae the streets that day Tae celebrate o’er the UK. 6 year war o’er, desp’rate tae see Their men return permanently Dot longed tae see Leslie an Ken Her brither an fiancé then!

Within a few months Dot wus wed An living in Norwich instead O’ Gartcosh where Dot haid hailed frae Wi the groom’s parents far away. That didnae wurk oot, sad tae say, An Dorothy came home tae stay.

T’wuid seem Ken suffered PTSD Lib’rating Belsen he’d tae see Proof o’ man’s inhumanity, Atrocities an cruelty Thoosands unburied oan the ground Suff’ring an dying all around.

21 Whit he’d seen haid scarred Ken fur life. He didnae want bairns wi his wife. Thon seems the likely reason why Dot didnae stick around tae try. At Stow College aged 24 Dot’s life wi Kenneth wus no more.

But “Oot o’ darkness, cometh light” A motto fitting tae their plight. Ah hope that Ken found happiness. Dorothy did, an fate did bless Her wi Will an Lesley Ann too Light o’ their life – thon motto’s true!

Poem by Lynne Noreen Arrol 2023

6 SECRETS My mother, Dorothy Moffat (Parker), began researching the family tree about 30 years prior to me and left many handwritten notes as well as receipts for time spent in various government offices. Those were the days before the internet and genealogy www sites. She must have been shocked to discover the secret that her mother had kept from her, as I was too when I was searching online, from the comfort of home. My great grandmother Mary Ann Skidmore married George Drysdale, born in Stirling on 15 July 1868. His mother was Janet Crawford and his father was George, an Engine Driver. The wedding took place in the Church of Scotland at Gartcosh on 28 November 1895. He was an Ironwork Clerk aged 27 and she was 23 years of age. Their son George was born 10 months later on 30 September 1896. Sadly, before he was 6 months old George senior died on 21 March 1897, aged just 28 years. He had been suffering from tubercular disease of the bowels for the past year. Mary Ann must have been devastated, but with a young son to look after, looked for employment and became the village postmistress, supplementing her income by taking in lodgers. Two years later on 30 April 1899 she gave birth in Mossend, Bellshill to my grandmother Mary Skidmore. A child born outside of marriage would have been a serious stigma in that era, and often the unmarried mother would leave the area so as not to bring shame on the family, perhaps why Mary was born in Bellshill. There was no contraception and economic conditions would have made it difficult for couples to get married. Mary Ann and her two children George and his half sister Mary, who was to become known as Mary Skidmore Drysdale returned to Gartcosh. Coincidentally, having sent my DNA to Ancestry.co.uk a few years ago, I received a message from a lady in her sixties who had a secret kept from her too. She had just been told that she had been adopted but only had a name for her father. We are second or third cousins according to the DNA match but finding where on the tree is almost impossible, even with the recent breakthrough allowing us to know that it is the maternal side. I have no idea who my great grandfather is either but hope that DNA technology may someday provide an answer. I suspect that her father may be connected to my great grandfather. One day something good may come out of all the research.

7 FINDING NORAH AND THE OTHER GLASGOW BOY My grandmother Mary Skidmore Drysdale was very close to her cousins Christina Norah Anderson and Henzey Barratt Anderson. Both girls were creative, Henzey, born in 1907, a musician who played piano professionally and Norah, the eldest, a teacher and talented watercolour artist. Although Christina was her first name she was always called Norah by family and friends. In my search for family information she has been the most difficult to find, and this usage of her middle name has been one of the reasons. While researching Norah and her art I discovered that Gartcosh, where most of my family seem to have been born, was also home to a very well known artist John Quentin Pringle. Norah died aged only 41 years in 1950, at Christchurch Hospital near Bournemouth although her death certificate records her home address as Gowanlea, Gartcosh. It’s likely that she moved to live with her sister who was a silent film pianist married to George Arthur Patterson a timpanist in the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, perhaps to help with childcare or because her ill health was diagnosed early and life in the south of England would have been more therapeutic than Gartcosh, where her mother Henzey (Skidmore) Anderson was also in poor health. She was extremely well loved as I heard her mentioned many times throughout the years and she must have been one of the most popular girls in the family as she was either a witness or bridesmaid at three weddings. Firstly, aged 19 on 20th October 1928 at St Andrew’s Episcopal Church, Gartcosh to her sister Henzey at her first marriage to widower George Arthur Patterson. He was 30 years old and lived at 1 Eastgate. Henzey lived at 1 Mowbray Avenue, perhaps with Norah. Their daughter Henzey Norah was born in 1929. George Arthur died on 25 February 1947 when Henzey Norah was just 17 years old. Norah was bridesmaid to my grandmother’s half sister Jessie Blincow to Tom Garrett in Dunoon, in 1938. She was also a bridesmaid, aged 30 years at my mother’s first wedding in 1939 to Ken Bates, again at St Andrew’s Church. Memories of her seem to have just vanished and no one it seems even has a painting or piece of jewellery that may have belonged to her. She was creative and very

24 fashionable as the photograph here shows, which is one of just a few I have, probably taken in 1929. She is with three children, her nephew George Patterson and my mother Dorothy and her brother Leslie Moffat, playing on a beach, possibly in Bournemouth. Norah looks like she is holding a small black Bakelite cigarette holder, some were encrusted with diamonds, and very popular with the movie stars of that era.

‘FINDING NORAH’

Tae find Norah wus no easy She used her middle name ye see. Christina Norah wus her name But she wus cawed Norah at hame. Born in nineteen hundred an nine, This lass wus a great - aunt o’ mine.

Norah and Henzey, her big sis, Wur creative ah tell ye this. Oor Henzey played the organ for Thon Silent Movies folk adore An Norah painted wond’rously Her flowers wur a sight tae see.

Vivacious, arty, full o’ fun Norah wus loved by everyone. She wus bridesmaid time an again An wus sought efter by young men But, as a teacher, couldnae wed Ur she would lose her job it’s said!

A “Marriage Bar” wus used back then (Fur men wur oan the dole ye ken). Authorities thought it wus fine Tae make married Teachers resign. Some wummen married secretly Ur wur engaged eternally! Thon rule made me feel sad an cross Fur those like Norah an their loss O’ married life an family Aw robbed o’ how their life could be. It seems unco unfair tae me That there wus nae equality.

Oor Norah didnae keep sae well An died young ah am sad tae tell. Rheumatic Fever played a part By causing damage tae her heart. Ah wish ah’d known her huv tae say Folk mind her fondly tae this day.

Poem by Lynne Noreen Arrol 2023

At home in Gartcosh I wonder if she ever met the respected artist John Quinton Pringle (1864 1925) who also lived there and painted local scenes en-plein air. I like to think of her seeing him working outside on his easel and encouraging her to take up painting with watercolours. Initially he trained as a watchmaker then became an optician’s assistant working in Glasgow but this did not stop him following his dream of painting alongside the 1880’s group of artists known as the Glasgow Boys. In the evenings he studied at Glasgow School of Art and more than likely met with Henry, Crawhall and Guthrie who all followed the French Impressionist style of rural

26 landscape painting, as well as the printmaker Muirhead Bone. Gartcosh would have offered him the artist lifestyle compared to the tenements of the east end of Glasgow where he was born. His peers must have appreciated his style of work as collector William Meldrum owned at least three pieces, including work by Charles Rennie Mackintosh. Meldrum’s son James and his wife Eva went on to donate his oil painting ‘Poultry Yard, Gartcosh’ to the National Galleries of Scotland and a pen, black ink and watercolour drawing ‘Backyard, Bartholomew Street, Glasgow’ to the British Museum in London. In addition a painting produced in Shetland ‘The Window, 1924’ was donated to the Tate Gallery. I never appreciated prior to this research that Gartcosh had been home to such a respected resident from the art world and hope that one day the community there might recognise this in some way, perhaps naming a new street after him. Congratulations Christina Nora, I would never have found John Quinton Pringle if I hadn’t been searching for any pieces of your work, but instead came across his.

8 THE SKIDMORES OF STAMFORD HOUSE, AMBLECOTE Amblecote was a tiny hamlet with a population of only 300 in 1662, growing over the years to just over 1,000 in 1812 and doubled by 1862. In this period there were just a few cottages and six mansions. Two miles away was the Parish church of St Mary’s, Old Swinford, which also served Stourbridge. As a result of this growth a meeting was held in 1839 to discuss a project for Amblecote to have a church of its own and was supported by the Earl of Stamford and Warrington who offered the land and an annual endowment. Although mining had been a small part of the economy from the 1300's, farming and agriculture had been the main source of income for the monks who were running the monasteries and profiting greatly by all accounts. Two hundred years later King Henry VIII passed the Act of Supremacy in which he became the leader of the Church of England and this enabled the Crown to own lands previously controlled by the Church. This would be a turning point in history as renting these leases would encourage the residents of the area to begin mining the rich coal seams, very probably the beginnings of The Black Country, as the area was later to be named and why my early family history is steeped in coal. It would not be until the late 1700’s that the eldest brother, Benjamin of my 4 x great grandfather David, would show entrepreneurial skills and begin running these coal mines. As a result of this Act of Supremacy, my 10 x great grandfather William Skidmore (1595 - 1664) was granted a lease of 2 acres of land and permitted to build a cottage. This gave him the opportunity to have a better life than most and when he died the contents of his will make interesting reading and show he had done quite well for a simple collier: ‘A table board and frame, a joined chest, 2 fire grates, fire shovel and tongs, a pair of weights, 2 iron pots, 4 brass kettles, 6 pewter dishes, a flagon, 2 mares, 13 sheep, 2 loads of hay, a half-headed bed and bedding, 2 other beds and bedding, 2 little coffers, 2 wheels, coarse hemp yarn, 2 benches and a form, 2 chairs, 2 spits, pair of gale-hooks (kitchen cranes), and pot hooks, a kneading trough, a loom, a frying pan, plate and basting spoon, 6 pairs of sheets, 2 tablecloths, husbandry implements, “and things forgot or out of sight”, and Bonds owing by gentleman, Richard Brindley’. At some point in the 1700’s Stamford House was leased by Lord Stamford to the Skidmore family and my 4 x great grandfather David Skidmore (1796 - 1839) had six, perhaps 7 brothers all of whom were born there, children of Thomas Skidmore (1750 - 1821) and his wife Mary Walker, and then baptised at St Mary’s, Kingswinford.

John Wesley (1703 - 1791), the leader of the revival movement within the Church of England known as Methodism,was known to have preached from the kitchen of Stamford House. Seven years after the death of John Wesley, David’s youngest brother Jeremiah became a Methodist cleric and so much of the information we have is due to him carefully writing his memories in pages of his beloved bible. I must add here that he married Elizabeth Knowles (1806 - 1850), and coincidentally my married name is Knowles. As my husband keeps asking when will he be mentioned in my writing then it gives me great pleasure to add that James and I married in Stonehaven, during lockdown on 24 March 2021. I now rather look forward to researching his family tree and perhaps finding out that we are indeed connected far deeper than we ever imagined. We have all heard of the appalling stories of how children were made to work down the mines and unfortunately history records that my 4 x great uncle, the eldest son of Thomas and Mary would be an employer responsible for this despicable treatment. I am referring to Benjamin, previously mentioned with entrepreneurial skills. He was a butty miner and purchased property in Wednesbury and Darlaston. During the early part of the nineteenth century, the coal miners were not directly employed by the owners but by a contractor, called a "Butty". He engaged with

29 the mine owner to deliver coal or ironstone at so much per ton. He employed the labourers required using his own horses and tools. On 20 September records show that he took on an apprentice 10 year old Richard Martin of Wednesbury and again on 18 August 1807 he took on William Rogers age 7 3⁄4 years. It wasn’t until August 1842 that a law was passed making it illegal for women and children to work underground in these mines. There were hundreds of mines throughout this part of England and many men and children too would have lost their lives working in this dangerous occupation. Apart from working long hours in dirty and claustrophobic conditions they would have been in constant fear of flooding, methane gas explosions, fire and tunnels collapsing. Jeremiah recorded births, marriages and deaths in his bible and it is here that we read about two of his brothers David and Thomas dying on separate occasions at the Old Hill Colliery in Darlaston. It is very sad to think of my 4 x great grandfather, David, losing his life digging for coal. The Davy lamp was invented in 1815, with the purpose of safety for the miners. This basic lamp with a wire gauze chimney enclosed the naked flame allowing light to pass through and also absorb the heat. The flame would not reach the heat required to cause an explosion but the flame would change colour as a warning. Fatalities were reduced enormously and miners were able to dig deeper for coal. Local trade directories show that Benjamin went on to own public houses including the Duke of York at Catherine’s Cross Darlaston and another in Oxford Street, Bilston. The Skidmore family seem to have accumulated some wealth as progress can be seen when comparing his 1835 will to that of the will of William Skidmore in 1664. His four sons inherited various properties, Thomas received the house in the Parish of Wednesbury, as well as two other houses and a small piece of land. Two houses went to another son Benjamin and ten houses went to John and David. Isaiah is not mentioned in the will, but he and Benjamin emigrated to Wisconsin in America, Isaiah in 1844 and Benjamin in 1849 or 1850. It appears then that we have relatives in the USA and I do wonder if a very talented, artistic relative Doreen Skidmore who appears to have moved there is aware of that very connection. She has shared some of her Gartcosh memories on the Gartcosh History Group website.

‘My dear mother Mary Skidmore the wife of Thomas Skidmore died March 23rd 1837 half past ten oclock morning Thursday before Good Friday aged 86 years was buried at Oldswinford on Easter Tuesday 28th March. Thus died one of the greatest Peace Makers in a family. One who never sowed discord in familyes among friends or nebours eather in the churches or out. She was one of the kindest one of the lovingest one of the mercyfullest one of the tenderheartest one of the best Mothers that ever had the care of a famaly under the Sun The loss of such a Mother I cannot help but morn and grief but my loss is her Eternal Gain, O that God would help me to be diligent in working out my Salvation that I may meet her in heaven to part no more’ From text written in the bible of Jeremiah Skidmore, 1837

Resources: https://www.holytrinityamblecote.org.uk/history.html Bibles, Coal & Canals from https://www.hurleyskidmorehistory.com.au/ ' The Skidmore Family of Stamford House, Amblecote, Staffordshire, and their Descendants 1780-1915 by Linda Moffatt at the website of the Skidmore/ Scudamore One-Name Study www.skidmorefamilyhistory.com’ Skidmores of Stamford House https://www.staffspasttrack.org.uk/exhibit/coal/default.htm https://www.rigb.org/explore-science/explore/collection/humphry-davys-miners-safety-lamp https://sites.google.com/site/gartcoshlocalhistory/

9 WARNING, NEVER SET SAIL WITH… In 1797 a Royal Navy sailor called Richard Parker was one of the ringleaders of the naval mutiny at the Nore. He was found guilty and hanged from the yardarm of HMS Sandwich.

In 1837 Edgar Allan Poe published the Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, a horror story depicting cannibalism at sea and the unlucky Richard Parker who drew the short straw who was eaten by his crew. On 17 May 1884, Southampton was the starting point for the Mignonette, a small yacht manned by 4 of a crew to be taken to Australia to its new owner. Tom Dudley, the captain and two of his crew were all very experienced. The fourth was cabin boy Richard Parker, just 17 years old. A giant wave sank the yacht while sailing from Madeira to Cape Town and the crew escaped on

32 the dinghy. They were miles from land with very little food to eat and water to drink. They eventually had to drink their own urine to survive, but the cabin boy could not resist the sea water, which proved fatal. In order to stay alive Richard Parker was eaten by his fellow crew. Apparently the complexities of this legal case regarding necessity as a defence for murder are to this day studied in common law. I have not yet made the official family tree link with my relative who set sail from Southampton, England for New York to start a new life in America. I understand it may have been an aunt, however when researching this I did learn that there were about 2,224 passengers and crew aboard a very well known ship, and I found the name of a young man with my surname, Parker. On 15th April 1912 this liner sank in the North Atlantic Ocean after striking an iceberg. More than 1,500 people died, amongst them some of the wealthiest people in the world including hundreds of emigrants from all over Europe. I am of course referring to the RMS Titanic and on board was Clifford Richard Parker. At just 17 years of age, he purchased a second class ticket for £10 10s and must have been incredibly excited to be leaving his position as a clerk and his home in Guernsey to travel from Southampton for a new life in New York. There is a 14 sided plaque, representing each of the lives lost, including his, at the Weighbridge in St Peter Port. Yann Martel wrote the adventure fiction story Life of Pi who is a character when his ship sinks and is left stranded on a lifeboat with a Bengal tiger. The tiger is called Richard Parker. Study groups claim that the main message in the story is that life is difficult, that perseverance is important. You must learn to be adaptive, have faith in yourself and your beliefs and this will help you overcome life’s obstacles. They suggest that Richard Parker symbolises survival. Perhaps they never did their research. Amongst all these stories relating to seamen with the name Richard Parker, I have found none making the connection with the Titanic’s passenger. It raises a few questions. Was his middle name hidden to avoid blaming superstition on this disaster? Were the other stories relatively unknown at the time? Have I stumbled on a coincidence that will add further intrigue to an already famous story? Will you insist on seeing the passenger list of your next cruise or boat trip? I would suggest that you seriously think twice about going to sea with anyone who has the name Richard Parker. Resources: https://www.rmg.co.uk/stories/blog/richard-parker-nore-mutiny-rebellion-retribution-royal-navy https://www.encyclopedia-titanica.org/titanic-victim/clifford-richard-parker.html https://www.surrey.ac.uk/people/carl-thompson

10 THE TEN POUND POM I don’t ever recall it being spoken about at home, until during dinner one evening at Gordonbank, the home of my aunt Maisie (Mary Anderson Parker born 1935) told me that my father (her brother) William Parker (1924 - 1996), was a Ten Pound Pom, before he married my mother Dorothy Mary Moffat (1926 - 1997). This was the UK emigration assisted passage scheme to help populate Australia, costing £10 and promising jobs, housing and sunshine on the other side of the world. Maisie was aware that he had left enough money with their mother to be able to pay for his return fare home in case he got homesick. This explained some interesting documents my father kept and enabled me to piece together a timeline of his most exciting but perhaps disappointing adventure. He did return to Scotland and I am here, claiming that while sitting under a tree one day God spoke to him and told him to return home and marry my mother. For the record God has never spoken to me and possibly may miss a generation. Perhaps he passed on the imaginative gene. In 2023 the BBC produced a wonderful drama series Ten Pound Poms based around the million Britons, seduced by the £10 fare to escape the dull, post war 1950’s for a bright future Down Under. Watching this I learned of the possible problems my father faced and this helped me understand why he wanted to return and rebuild his life back home. Upon arrival the British were bused to migrant hostels and lived in cramped conditions. They had to live amongst Germans, recent enemies in the war, and apply for jobs alongside Australians who resented having to compete with these new visitors for employment. The heat would be relentless, particularly if you worked outside in the construction industry. Surprisingly the authorities took your passport from you and it would be two years before you could apply for it to be returned, unless you were one of the lucky ones who were able to afford the fare home. Although he showed great skill on the pitch for his football team at Alexandra Primary School, as detailed in the local press, he came from a large family who could not afford the cost of football boots so a possible sports career was cut short. Later in life he was very proud of his nephew Chris Hay who played for Celtic Football Club (1993 - 1997), despite my father being a Glasgow Rangers supporter. The Parker family were active members of the Scottish Episcopal Church, he was confirmed in 1941, age 17. His father was involved with the church and has a plaque placed inside St Paul’s in Airdrie, at the end of the row where the family were seated. By 1949 my father had served his apprenticeship as a Brass Moulder at Bellsdyke Work (John Spence & Sons (Airdrie) Limited. With this experience behind him he travelled to Australia House, London WC2 and attended a farewell dinner on Saturday 22nd September 1951 prior to setting sail on the British Ministry of Transport’s SS New Australia for the six week journey. It was an opportunity to see the world. The voyage took them past the Suez Canal and on to Egypt (where a photo shows he visited), Yemen, India and Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) before arriving in Sydney Harbour.

34 On 29th March 1952, only about five months after his arrival, he applied to the UK Passport Office in Canberra to have his passport returned, which cost him £1/2/6. (One pound, two shillings and sixpence.) His receipt was sent to him at 66 Albert Road, South Melbourne. This was a declining area in the 1950’s, previously known as Emerald Hill, so he may very well have lived there temporarily, although it may have been an office where mail could be safely delivered. Google Maps now show the property as boutique style office accommodation amongst high rise flats and Victorian buildings. Heading home in 1952, age 28, my father travelled on the Orient Line from Melbourne, Victoria to London on the RMS Orontes. This Tourist B Class Liner began its journey on 29th April in Sydney, calling at Melbourne on 3rd May, Adelaide on 4th May and Fremantle on 8th May. He kept the full list of passengers and noted the name of a Mr Lawrence he may have met on the journey. He probably visited Fremantle as his passport was stamped there. He would have arrived in London before the end of June 1952 and he may have applied to join the police force in Birmingham, as he made a note of the recruitment office. Home was 62 McKenna Drive, Airdrie and he started work at Boots Pure Drug Company Limited, nearby on Motherwell Street, on Monday 18th October 1954. He would have been one of 600 employees working there processing aspirin and saccharin tablets. It wasn’t until the 1960’s that cosmetic production was introduced. The factory sat on a 145 acre site from its opening in 1949 until 2005 when it closed with the loss of 1,000 jobs. A sad time for Airdieonians. This was a light manufacturing and packaging company and coincidentally I just about recall visiting the Managing Director at this impressive building in his grand office and noticing his chauffeur polishing his car outside. This would have been the 1990’s when my company was amongst other things, contract packing and he may have been asking me to quote for some project. Housebuilders Bellway and Taylor Wimpey have since built over 400 homes on the land. By September of the following year my father was engaged to my mother and they married on Hogmanay 31st December 1955. My father was 5’ 9½“ (1.77metres) tall with blue eyes and fair hair. His sister, my aunt Maisie and my son Stewart (born 1st January 1997) have exactly the same colour of eyes. My mother’s cousin Henzey Norah’s step brother George Patterson, his wife Kathy and their sons Martyn and Ian also emigrated to Australia on this Government Assisted Scheme, which seemed to still be running. My mother and George were good friends and I fondly remember them coming to visit us in Airdrie in the 1960’s to say goodbye. We lost touch completely although I understand that Ian returned to England. Also that George has passed and Kathy lives with Martyn and his wife Debbie. My cousin Fiona’s (1964 - 2015) husband Richard Beggs and her son James have travelled often to Australia, Richard for business and both for pleasure and by coincidence his

35 grandmother Rosina was a forerunner to the Ten Pound Pom as she too emigrated to Australia and also returned to England. I’ve added his very moving story at the end of this chapter. I have a good friend in Australia, so maybe one day I will visit to retrace my father’s journey or perhaps my son Stewart will take on that adventure. My father was hoping to start a new chapter in his life - sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for - but thankfully he had a contingency plan or otherwise I would not have been born and have all these stories with which to amuse you.

‘TEN POUND POM’ It wusnae talked aboot at hame Aunt Maisie telt me aw the same Somethin’ Will Parker’d no telt me (Her brither’s ma faither, ye see). She telt me how he went tae Oz He wus a “ten pound POM” because…

Like ithers related tae me (George Patterson an family) Will upped sticks an he went tae sea Whit an adventure that wuid be! Dream life “doon under” in the sun Jobs an hooses fur everyone!

Scale o’ migration wus sae great They’d tae convert troop ships at rate. “Monarch of Bermuda” became

37 “S.S. Australia.” Whit a name! Like Will, thoosands o’ ithers too Hae sailed oan it tae pastures new.

Will wus a Brass Moulder tae trade An thought, wi thon skill, he’d be paid Weel an hae a braw future there Whit wi thon reduced travel fare But that wusnae how things turn’t oot Will wus guy scunnered ah’ve nae doot

A migrant’s life wusnae easy T’wus guy hard tae get jobs, ye see Wance ye wur there ye haid tae stay Fur twa full years ur tae repay Thon one hunner an twenty pound Too dear fur maist folk tae huv found.

But Will haid kent whit he should do Ah’d no huv thought o’ this, wuid you? In case he wus homesick at aw, He haid left money wi his maw. He’d no end up as an Aussie Far flung frae hame an family.

While ithers name o’ Gibb wuid stay AKA Bee Gees, by the way An Carol Jones who married Ron Surname Minogue, need ah go on? Their lass, Kylie, hus worldwide fame

38 Will’s destiny wusnae the same.

God telt him tae come hame ye see His quest? Tae marry Dorothy. They’d no dated afore he left Sae Dorothy wusnae bereft. Faint heart n’er won fair maiden though Sae hame tae Scotland Will wuid go!

Poem by Lynne Noreen Arrol 2023

My Mum – Anne Lillian Beggs (nee Frost) Rosina Marjorie Hart was born in 1891 and a forerunner to the Ten Pound Pom as, at the age of 34, in 1925 Rosina emigrated to Sydney, Australia. Rosina soon settled down and worked as a domestic servant in a large house. Then disaster struck as Rosina was raped by the master of the household and she became pregnant. In June 1930 at Elizabeth Street Hospital, she gave birth to Anne Lillian. In 1931 and in disgrace Rosina and Anne left Australia and returned to England. During the six-week voyage Rosina met George Frederick (Freddy) Frost. Freddy was born in 1897 and after WW1 was honourably discharged from the Royal Veterinary Corps. Rosina and Freddy fell in love and were married in 1932 in Hendon. Freddy adopted Anne and for the rest of their lives were adoring father and daughter. They moved to Gosport where they had a general store and ‘Frost’s for Fish’. After Freddy passed away in 1962, Rosina moved to Weymouth to be with Anne and her grandchildren. In 1970 we all said farewell to dear Rose. In 1998 I was proud to send my parents Anne and Ralph to Australia and to Sydney. They both went to Elizabeth Street, where she was born but the hospital had become a Salvation Army centre. For 12 years I had a business in Sydney and frequently walked along Elizabeth Street to meet my accountant in Pitt Street totally unaware of the relevance of the Salvation Army centre. My accountant was Mark Lahana who became a great friend. Mark frequently stayed with my family in London and during their visit to Sydney stayed with Mark's parents John and Gloria.

Richard Beggs 2023

11 HENRY VIII & HIS TRUE LOVE ‘Divorced, Beheaded, Died: Divorced, Beheaded, Survived.’ This rhyme almost needs no introduction as it tells the outcome of the six wives of Henry VIII, the King of England; Katherine of Aragon (divorced), Anne Boleyn (beheaded), Jane Seymour (died), Anne of Cleves (divorced), Katherine Howard (beheaded) and Katherine Parr (survived).

In Tudor times, royal marriages were political arrangements, and although this powerful king may have been attracted to some of his wives, his insecurity and anxiety led to many affairs. There has not been much written about his relationship with Jane Moore (also known as Joan or Joanne), a royal laundress, but available evidence shows that she was treated most differently than any other woman in his life and this could be argued that she was his one and only true love. Their affair resulted in the birth of Etheldreda (also known as Audrey) in 1528. Politics demanded that he could not marry Jane but he could keep her and their child close. He arranged for her to marry well, perhaps to older and more tired husbands, and ensured she had an excellent dowry, by the leases of the site of the Manor of Northlatche which documents show were bestowed upon each husband. Etheldreda was also kept at Court and became a close companion for the rest of her life to her half sister, Elizabeth, born in 1533 to Henry’s second wife and Queen, Anne Boleyn. Henry more than likely arranged for her to be married to James Dingley with whom records show a son William. Her husband would have known about her relationship with the King. James died in 1539 and probably in order to have Jane remain within his inner circle he arranged for her to marry Michael Ashfield who died just a year later in 1540. Another suitor was found Thomas Parker, the nephew of Abbot William Malvern or Parker. Around this time the king was not in good health so it would be more likely that he encouraged Jane to live out her life without him. She and Thomas had four children Edmund (the eldest), Michael, Thomas and Mary. Jane’s third husband Thomas Parker is possibly my 12 x great grandfather. King Henry placed Etheldreda in the care of his tailor John, who gave her his surname Malte. She died in 1559, at the age of 31 and just a few months after her half sister was crowned Queen Elizabeth I of England.

12 BRIDGES Looking through my father's collection of paperwork would have been the first time I came across the name Thomas Telford on a marriage certificate dated from the 1800’s. Not being an enthusiast of bridge building, any connection to one of the most famous engineers in the world would have gone straight over my head. All would have been forgotten until 2007 when my young son Stewart came home from primary school and advised me his project was about family trees, so out came the largest piece of paper I could find and mummy had to draw out as much information as I could gather at the time working backwards until surprise, surprise the name Thomas Telford appears. Incidentally there was no way any of the original certificates were going to class with this young student. Now this was a coincidence, as you see this was not just any primary school, this was Craigellachie Primary School, just a short walk from our home and both properties overlooked - Craigellachie Bridge, built by the great man himself Thomas Telford between 1812 and1814. In addition 2007 was the year that Moray celebrated the 250th Anniversary of this great man’s birth. Six years later 17 year old Stewart would come home from nearby Aberlour Secondary School and happily advise me that our bridge was 200 years old and all sorts of celebrations would be taking place that year 2014, including his class performing on stage at Elgin Town Hall. It appeared that the whole of Moray were participating, again, in the celebration of our great relative. Even I, in my employment as CEO of the local Chamber of Commerce was suggested to by a local councillor that I was in the right role to encourage our village council to start a ‘Friends of the Craigellachie Bridge’ group to raise funds to repaint the bridge as a quote had been given for around £300,000, a staggering price, due to the fact that protection would be needed for the important Scottish salmon swimming below that may be poisoned by the paint. Two hundred years ago it had cost in the region of £8,000 to build. Thomas Telford was born in Dumfries in 1757 and died in 1834, he was a skilled architect, engineer and stonemason and internationally renowned for his various projects. Now the truth of the matter is that Thomas Telford signed my 23 year old great grandmother’s marriage certificate on 18 November 1882 as her father, although her birth father had died in 1879, so quite probably he would be her stepfather. This Telford was a butcher, residing at Rectors Lane, Gateshead almost 50 years after the death of the engineer. Perhaps with continued research I may find a connection although it will not be through our bloodline. Prior to moving to Craigellachie my son and I lived in the grounds of Cullen House, our home had been the original Laundry and was beside the Deskford Burn. We were very fortunate to have a garden that was designed in 1760, shared by just a few others who lived in the apartments in Cullen House. The site was reputed to have been the home of Martha, mother of King Robert the Bruce. His wife Elizabeth de Burgh died as a result of a fall from her horse in the grounds on 26 October 1327, her entrails were buried in the Kirk and the rest of her body

41 taken to Dunfermline Abbey. Across the burn just behind our house was a bridge built by William Adam in 1744, brother of Robert, James and John, sons of William Adam the architect. Coincidence would have it that my uncle Leslie, who I am named after, married Iris Adam and she was approached by a genealogist to inform her that she was a descendant of this famous family of builders. I have her Family Tree dating back to 1781 and hope to make this connection with some extra research. Iris loved the prospect of getting her photograph taken under this bridge so we did just this on one sunny day on their annual visit to Craigendarroch when they stopped by to see our unusual home and its unique location. We also visited the original packhorse bridge, just behind the Adam bridge, where legend has it that the deep groove in the wall of this other but older historical bridge is where Bonnie Prince Charlie sharpened his sword on the way to Culloden where his army was defeated in 1746. Lynne Noreen Arrol who is the writer of the poems included in my stories also has a unique connection to a famous bridge engineer. Sir William Arrol is the great grand uncle of her husband Martin, who is famous for the Tay Bridge, the Forth Bridge and London’s Tower Bridge. The Arrol Gantry was also constructed to build the RMS Titanic. Maybe we are a nation of engineers and we can all find a bridge in our blood. Perhaps the hardest thing in life is to find which bridge to cross and which bridge to burn.

STEWART AND HIS DOG LADY PLAYING IN THE SNOW BESIDE THE CRAIGELLACHIE BRIDGE BUILT BY THOMAS TELFORD IN 1812-1814.

Pat (a family friend), uncle Leslie, Lesley Ann (myself) and aunt Iris Adam under the William Adam Bridge at Cullen House Gardens.

The original packhorse bridge where Bonnie Prince Charlie may have sharpened his sword on the way to Culloden.

Albert and Lydia Adam, Aunt Iris Moffat (nee Adam) and Mary Moffat my grandmother at the Forth Rail Bridge, early 1960’s

13 EIGHTEEN HOMES AND STILL COUNTING - MAYBE Readers might think it unusual or perhaps obsessive to have lived in so many different homes. There is usually a sensible reason for moving, otherwise complex and I have had the pleasure of living in some unique homes with quite incredible histories with me merely being a temporary custodian with an obligation to take great care of such special properties. I haven’t listed the address of all 18 here, but previously I did include 17 in a piece of typographical artwork. The eighteenth is missing as I thought the seventeenth was my forever home however the eighteenth is rather special and worthy of its own story.

186 High Street in Montrose is a B listed townhouse in a conservation area and history records it as the law office of Adam Burnes, procurator fiscal of the Burgh. He was known as the ‘poor man’s lawyer’ after winning a case at Forfar Sheriff Court in 1865 for the right and freedom of public shooting for fowl over the Salt Loch. He was also involved with the right to retain free trout fishing in the River North Esk. He was one of the 12 children of Provost James Burnes and the brother of Alexander and Charles Burnes who both were hacked to death in Kabul during the first Anglo/Afghan war. This family had close ties to the famous poet Robert Burns as it was to Adam’s grandfather that he reached out to for financial assistance on his Burn’s Tour of the Highlands in 1787.

Researching the history of 186 captured my interest in Alexander Burnes and the true tales of how British agents operated in India. By coincidence, we share the same birth date 16 May.The book Sikunder Burnes by Craig Murray tells the story of his fascinating adventures and ghastly end. Montrose celebrates Robert Burns with an imposing statue by the accomplished sculptor William Birnie Rhind which was unveiled on 7 August 1912 by Dr Andrew Carnegie the father of modern Philanthropy, but sadly there is no memorial in place for Alexander Burnes. There are so many Burnes in Montrose I had to complete my own family tree for this family to enable me to find out which Burnes had lived or worked from my property. Originally I was intending to run a Gallery with Rooms from the house and this would have made a superb story to intrigue my guests with such important historical characters. An added bonus, another stroke of marketing genius I didn’t expect to find until I moved in and was reading more out about the local area, which is just steeped in history. Both 186 and 188 have secret cupboards which my son and I like to believe that Bonnie Prince Charlie may well have been hidden within. I can’t possibly mention Robert Burns and not include a few of his lines from Tam o’ Shanter which are amongst the most beautiful written work he ever produced and my favourite.

‘But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white - then melts for ever; Or like the Borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the Rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm.’

Images left to right; Logo for B&B at 186 High Street, Robert Burns statue by William Birnie Rhind RSA and Sikunder Burns, Master of the Great Game by Scottish author Craig Murray.

‘18 HOMES AND COUNTING - MAYBE!’

18 homes an countin’ - maybe! Ah’m gonnae huvtae wait an see But this hoose is a special wan It haes links tae a revered man An tae a braw story as well Ah’ve goat ye hooked noo, ah can tell.

186 High Street in Montrose Wus the Law Office, so it goes, O’ “poor man’s lawyer,” Adam Burnes Whose Grandfaither helped Rabbie Burns. Rab reached oot tae the family Fur Highland Tour finance, ye see.

Montrose haes Burnes tae celebrate Fur monie o’ thaim ah wuid rate The Bard is celebrated there Will Birnie Rhind’s sculpture is rare! Thought Adam Burnes son wuid huv yin But he didnae get a look in!

Noo Alexander’s tale is true Weel telt by Craig Murray fur you. In gripping read, Sukinder Burnes,

48 O’ British spies the reader learns. From Montrose to Mumbai we see How scary a spy’s life can be.

His tale haes journeys in disguise Assassinations - no surprise – An double agents, secrets tae.. Sexual intrigue wus news tae me! Queen, King an World Leaders an aw, Knights Templar an Masons – It’s braw!!!

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