The Family Goldmine

Most families have legends and mine is no different. The legend in my family is that there is a family-owned goldmine somewhere in Australia. 

The story goes that my great-grandfather loaned his cousin some money before he emigrated to Australia. The condition was that the cousin would send the money back once he had settled. When his cousin had made Australia his home, my great-grandfather James Harbertson was sent the papers to a goldmine, which for some reason he never signed - a bit of a step-up from the money he lent out! Other rumours say James was cheated out of his rightful property.

It's a good story, right? But is there any truth to the tale? 

James had three cousins who emigrated to Australia; Andrew, Robert and Lancelot Harbertson. They settled in the Corrimal area of New South Wales.

While I can find nothing to suggest the three brothers part-owned or had shares in a goldmine, there are some quite intriguing articles about the kind of lifestyles they had.

Lancelot Harbertson, or Lance as he was commonly known, married a woman named Frances Wilkinson on 4 October 1913. Below is a newspaper article published in the Illawarra Mercury reporting on the rather fashionable wedding:

__________

Wedding.

_____

A very pretty wedding was celebrated on October 4th, at "Glenavon," the residence of Mr. and Mrs. A. Harbertson, Corrimal, the contracting parties being Miss F. Wilkinson, of Horden, Durham, England, and Mr. Lance Harbertson, of Seaton Delaval, England. The Rev. Mr. Beynon (Presbyterian) officiated. 

The bride was given away by Mr. T. Dixon, and she was attended by Miss Grace Dixon as bridesmaid, whilst Mr. R. Harbertson acted as groomsman. The bride was very handsomely gowned, and she wore a pretty gold brooch, set with pearls and rubies, the gift of the bridegroom, whose gift to the bridesmaid was a handsome gold pendant. 

After the ceremony the wedding party adjourned to "Milton Cottage," Mount Pleasant, the residence of Mr. and Mrs. T Dixon, where the wedding breakfast was served in such a manner as to win praise from all present. 

After justice had been done to the good things provided, Mr. Bert Makin proposed the toast of "The Bride and the Bridegroom," to which the bridegroom responded. The "Parents of the Bride," was proposed by Mr. R. Harbertson. Mr. Bourke proposed "Our Host and Hostess," and Mr. Dixon responded. 

The guests, to the number of about forty, were next entertained at an enjoyable musical evening, including songs, games, etc. The happy couple were the recipients of numerous presents including some costly articles, amongst the presents being a three-decker wedding cake made and presented to Mr. and Mrs. L. Harbertson, by Mrs. Dixon.

__________

Gold pendants, gold brooches set with pearls and rubies? How grand! 

But did the family goldmine fund the pretty wedding? Who knows. Whatever the truth, it makes for a good story. 

80th Anniversary

Today, 26 December 2016 is the 80th Wedding Anniversary of my grandparents, Joe and Sadie Quinnin. My grandad's name was really Albert Victor, but he became known as Joe in his youth. The reason for this is subject to family lore and myth.

They married at Tynemouth Registry Office when my grandad was 27, and my grandma just 20-years-old. Their witnesses were my grandma's sister, Florence, and my grandad's brother-in-law, Bill Weightman, who had married his sister only a year before. 

My grandparents were utterly devoted to each other, their love for each other was undying. Together they had twelve children! 

In 1972, my grandad suddenly became ill. Crippled with stomach pains and other ailments, he was taken into hospital. There, on 3 August 1972, he wrote my grandma a letter. I now have the letter, which I treasure. It is written on pale blue hospital paper and is kept in a faded yellowing envelope. It reads:

Dear Sadie,

Just a line or two, to let you know I am doing fine in here. Well Sadie I went to sleep at 8-30 this morning and they woke me up at 11-20 to wash me. They gave me a good wash all over and my pyjamas were so wet with sweat they had to give me some of the RVIs.

When they got me put right they put me in a big chair at the bedside, and they put my smoking jacket on me, when they drew the curtain every one was looking at me, the nurses from the other wards were coming in to have a look at me, they were bowing in front of me and shaking hands. They were calling me Sir Albert.

Well how is every one at home. I hope you are getting plenty of rest now. Is Peg all right now I hope she still comes in to see you. Tell everyone I am asking after them. Well I think this will be all. Excuse writing as these nurses are pulling and tearing at me.

From your loving Husband

Sir Albert Victor 

Peg, the woman named in the letter, was my grandparent's neighbour.

My grandad died just over a month later, and my grandma never fully recovered. She was reunited with him in death in 1984.

GRO - My 3x Great-Grandfather's Birth Certificate

With the recent GRO index update, I was finally able to find my 2x great-grandfather's birth certificate. The new index shows the mother's maiden name, meaning those hard to find certificates can at last be discovered. It is also helpful in finding certificates of children who a couple were unfortunate to lose in early infancy, or between the census years. 

Here is the extract of my 3x great-grandfather's birth certificate: 

As you can see, when my 3x great-grandfather was registered, he did not yet have a forename. Of course, I know the name his parents later give him; John.

Interestingly, there's another box at the end which is headed "Baptismal Name, if added after Registration of Birth," which is left blank. 

Burton is a small place, just south of Bamburgh on the Northumbrian coast. it can still be found on Google Maps, and shows it has a perfect view of Bamburgh Castle. 

I have this rather funny image of my 4x great-grandmother going to Belford Registry Office, babe in arms, while her husband is out in the nearby fields. On arriving, she suddenly realises that they haven't yet decided on a name for the baby, so leaves the name blank, to be filled in at a later date. It never is!

I have ordered two other certificates which shall hopefully arrive in the coming days, and I look forward to seeing them.

Mary Ann Cotton, she's deed and she's rotten

Mary Ann Cotton, she's deed and she's rotten

Lying in a' coffin with a' belly wide op'en

This was the rather ghastly rhyme my grandma while cradling her children and grandchildren. I have known this version of the rhyme probably my whole life, although it does differ from the official version.

I was amazed to discover, fairly recently, that I have a distant connection to Mary Ann Cotton. But who exactly was she? 

Mary Ann Robson was born on 31 October 1832 at Low Moorsley, Durham, and was baptised on 11 November at West Rainton. Her parents were Michael and Margaret Robson (née Lonsdale). Michael Robson was a pitman, later described as a pit sinker. 

Mary Ann's baptism at West Rainton
(then Rainton Chapel)

When Mary Ann was still a young girl, her family moved to East Murton, where her father got a job at the local colliery. They weren't there for long when her father Michael died after falling down the pit. After Mary Ann's infamy rose, there were stories that Mary Ann witnessed her father's mangled body be brought back to the family home in a wheelbarrow, owned by the colliery. Her mother remarried to a man named George Stott shortly after, whom Mary Ann was not very fond of.

Mary Ann became known as the first and most prolific serial killer in British history. Cotton was the name of her fourth and final husband, although it was a bigamous marriage. Hers was a truly sick and horrific Victorian tale. She is thought to have murdered 21 people, including husbands, step-children, her own mother and eleven of her thirteen children. Arsenic was her poison. 

Mary Ann Cotton

Mary Ann Cotton is still a rather grisly name in the north east of England, but I doubt very many people outside of the region have heard of her. 

So how is it that I am connected to Mary Ann Cotton?

Mary Ann moved to Seaham Harbour after the death of her first husband in 1865. She soon after struck up a relationship with a man named Joseph Nattrass, who was already engaged to be married. After Joseph married, Mary Ann left Seaham Harbour. 

Mary Ann and Joseph rekindled their relationship years later, sometime after 1871. Joseph had been widowed, and was now living in a village nearby. On discovering this, Mary Ann convinced Frederick Cotton, her new husband, to move to the same village. Frederick Cotton was killed a few mere months later, and Joe became the lodger of Mrs Cotton. 

Joseph Nattrass may have been Mary Ann's on-off lover for a few years now, but that didn't stop him following the same fate as his predecessors. Joseph became ill in 1871, suffering with gastric fever - like all those before him, and died soon after.  

Joseph was the son of Henderson and Mary Nattrass, who had an elder brother named Michael. In 1862, at the parish church of Gateshead Fell, Michael Nattrass married a lady named Margaret Errington - Margaret's sister Isabella was my great-great-grandmother. Isabella and her husband Matthew Taylor (my great-great-grandparents) were the witnesses to the union. 

Michael Nattrass and my aunt Margaret did not have any children, and separated only a few years into their marriage. They both met new partners, and married bigamously, but they both seemed rather happy with this arrangement.

After Mary Ann Cotton was found out, her details and those of her victims were written about extensively in the media of the time. The following was written about Joseph 'Joe' Nattrass in the Shields Daily Gazette, 8 October 1872;

"Strange to say, at this period, "Joe" Nattrass, one of the men she is accused of poisoning at West Auckland, was lodging with his brother, Michael Nattrass, at the back part of the property at which she lived. Mrs Wallerson, a neighbour, is not aware that she knew Nattrass then, although she might, and he able to conceal the knowledge of such acquaintanceship from her. Joe Nattrass was married about this time to a young woman, named Thubron, daughter of John and Mary Thubron, who were then living in Back Terrace, Seaham Harbour. After his marriage he went to live at Shildon, where his wife died. He must then have gone to West Auckland, and by a singular coincidence fallen in with the woman Cotton and gone there to lodge. Michael Nattrass and his wife have since died."

Mary Ann Cotton was sentenced to death, and she was hanged on 24 March 1873 at Durham County Gaol. 

It is entirely possible that my aunt Margaret Errington knew the ill-fated Joe, and perhaps she was even acquainted with Mary Ann Cotton herself. Margaret died many years later, so must have known about the Mary Ann Cotton murders, as just about everyone in the north east would have. 

My maternal grandmother would sing her version of the Mary Ann Cotton rhyme to her children and grandchildren, whilst she cradled, rocked, or bounced them on her knee. I can only assume her own mother, Sarah Jane Taylor, sang the rhyme to her - and she possibly learnt the rhyme from her own mother, Isabella Errington! 

ITV have filmed a period drama detailing the Mary Ann Cotton murders - It stars Joanne Froggatt of Downton Abbey fame as Mary Ann, and airs tonight at 9pm.

July 2016 - Blog Monthly Roundup

I've thought about doing a Monthly Roundup on my blog for a while now. We'll see how this goes - it may not be a permanent fixture! The titles of my blog posts are links. 

Suicide At Seaton Delaval

My first blog post this month was a sad one. It detailed the suicide of a cousin on my mother's side of the family. It was particularly heart-wrenching as the poor lady's 11-year-old son was interrogated at the inquest. Naturally, he would have been grieving, and I don't think it was very fair of the coroner. 

The coroner's questions implied that he believed Mrs Ellen Gray committed suicide, after having a row with her husband, as he asked that particular question more than once. 

I ended the post by saying that another tragedy hit the family in later years. I will write that post soon, and publish next month. 

Catherine the Conundrum

The second blog post this month was dedicated to a complete mystery in my family history. It concerned Catherine Queenan, an elder sister of my great-grandfather, Martin Quinnin. 

Catherine was baptised as an infant, then totally disappeared. There is no birth certificate, no death certificate and no burial. She is a complete conundrum. 

I personally suspect she died as a baby, but can find no proof of that. If she did survive childhood, there is certainly no marriage certificate or death certificate for an adult Catherine. 

Writer's Block

The next blog post this month was a little study I conducted into my more recent ancestors. By recent, I mean back to my great-great-grandparents on all sides of my family. I made a chart and looked at numerous sources to deduce whether or not my ancestors could read and write.

Some ancestors were easier than others, for example I know one wrote his own will. The majority came from civil registration documents, where I checked the informants of events and if they signed their name or with a X. 

It was nice to see some progression in regards to learning to write with some of my ancestors. One of my Scottish grandmothers was the informant on most of her children's births. It was interesting to see her write her new married name incorrectly at first with her first few children, then be able to perfect her signature with her last children. 

I also colour coordinated the chart, with different colours meaning different birth countries, and whether there was a factor in that. It was interesting to see that my ancestors of Irish descent were often less likely to be able to write. 

A Family Gold Mine

Now you may notice there is no link attached to this blog post, and nor are you able to find it on my main page. Sadly, I made a rookie mistake. 

Whilst going through my drafts and published posts, I clicked delete on what I thought was a very old post - it wasn't. Sadly I have deleted my most recent post, one which I enjoyed writing. 

Thankfully I keep all my notes, so will write this one again. It should be up in a few weeks time. For the short time it was around, I received some nice feedback on it. 

Blogs I've Enjoyed This Month

• Kindred Past - This blog only has five posts currently, but I can't wait to read more. I have enjoyed everyone so far. The latest 'Hide and Seek with Harry' was particularly well-written, and I really empathise with how aggravating it is when an ancestor just can't be found. Very relatable. 
• Dunfermline Men Who Died During WW1 - This is a brand new blog! The blog plans to highlight the lives of the men of Dunfermline and West Fife who died fighting in WW1. The first (and currently only) blog post features a young man who received the Victoria Cross. It's a very good read. 

Upcoming...

The blog post next Wednesday will concern the Browns; an old Northumbrian family who have lived in one particular area for centuries. I am lucky enough to be descended from them. Until then... 

Writer's Block: Which of my Ancestors could write?

I decided an interesting idea would be to see who in my more recent ancestry could read and write. 

On civil registration documents in the UK, the informant of the event was required to either make their mark (a cross, X), or sign their name. A lot of information in the chart I prepared is taken from birth, marriage and death certificates from my own family 

The 1911 census returns were the first to be filled in by each head of the household, and so this is often be the first time someone will see their ancestor's full signature. If the head of the household was not able to write, then someone in the family, a friend or a neighbour was allowed to fill in the form on their behalf. 

First things first, obviously I can read and write. My parents can, my grandparents could, and so could all of my great-grandparents. 

Ticks denote they could read/write.
Crosses denote they could not.

Thanks to Crista Cowan from Ancestry, AKA the Barefoot Genealogist for sharing the chart, and giving me the initial idea.

I have somewhat neglected looking for my ancestors in school records, so I'm not sure if they will exist in places. A fairly recent record set published on Find My Past were the National School Admission Registers & Logbooks from 1870 - 1914. I found a lot of relatives in those records, but not many direct ancestors.

One I did find was my great-grandmother, Minnie Metcalf (written above as MM 1893 in the fourth column), who attended the Crofton Temporary Infants School in Blyth, along with her younger sister Nellie.

My great-great-grandfather, Adam Storey (written above as AS 1853), could read and write. He probably attended the Church of England school at Newbiggin, as did his siblings. I know Adam was a highly intelligent and educated man, who aspired to become a solicitor. He was an apprentice to a solicitor in Morpeth for a short while after leaving school. Adam's wife Jane Mavin (written above as JM 1853) could also read and write. 

As an added extra, I also coloured the boxes to show where my ancestors were born. Red for England, Dark Blue for Scotland, Green for Ireland etc. The Orange is for my paternal grandmother, born in Australia, and the Light Blue is for my great-great-grandfather, William James Rudd, who was born in Virginia, USA. 


Looking at my paternal grandfather's side of the family, it is clear that the previous few generations were all born in Scotland. Charles Leslie and Agnes Carroll, my great-great-grandparents (written above as CL 1858 and AC 1865, respectively), were not able to write. They were both children of Irish immigrants, so it is not a big surprise to me at all. 

My other great-great-grandfather, William McLean (written above as WM 1874) could not write. He signed with an X on numerous civil registrations, and so was obviously unable to even sign his own name. Interestingly though, his wife Marion Richmond (MR 1878 above) could sign her own name. In the early years of her marriage, Marion could be found signing her name as "Marion McClen."


My two great-great-grandparents born in Ireland could not read or write either. Martin Quinnin and Barbara Coyle (MQ c.1838 and BC c.1841 respectively) were both born in Co. Sligo, and came to England during the potato famine. It is no surprise to me that they were illiterate, as they were the children of impoverished labourers. They both signed their marriage certificate with an X. 

Similarly, my maternal grandmother's grandmother's were illiterate also. Matthew Taylor and Isabella Errington (MT 1838 and IE 1841 above) were both born long before education was made compulsory in England, and so I never expected them to be able to read and write. 

As for two of my great-great-grandmothers, I just don't know if they were literate. I can guess that Ann Jane Knox (written above as AK 1874) could write, as I have found school records for some of her siblings. As for Jane Barrass (JB 1853), I just don't have any evidence. I believe one of her brothers wrote and signed his own will, so I could maybe guess that she could, but I'm just not certain.

On This Day - Grandma's 100th Birthday

100 years ago today, my grandmother Sadie Harbertson was born in the house of her paternal grandmother at 23 Long Row, New Hartley, Northumberland.

She was the sixth child of James Harbertson and Sarah Jane Taylor, who had married twelve years previously in 1902. 

Even as a child, Sadie insisted that everything be perfectly clean. She would walk through the door from school, already with her dress off, ready to wash and scrub through ready for the next day.

A photograph of a young Sadie.

A few years after her birth, the family moved to Orange Street, Annitsford where Sadie lived up until she met and married Joe Quinnin. The story goes that he used to pass her door every day as she sat on her doorstep, when one day he offered her a biscuit from his pocket. They married on Boxing Day in 1936, and went on to have twelve children. 

Like her mother, Sadie was a hard-working woman. The washing in the Quinnin household, as can be imagined, was never-ending. The lad's shirts had to be pristine white, anything less than that was "poisoned", and needed a good boil! 

Sadie loved her mother Sarah Jane dearly. Sadie's heart broke for the first time in May 1951 when Sarah Jane died. Although she was gone, her mother was a constant presence and Sadie often spoke of her, remembering her overall character, mannerisms and little things she would say or do. 

Sadie and Joe.

Years later, Joe became seriously ill and had to go into a hospital in Wylam, and later Newcastle's Royal Victoria Infirmary. Joe, whose name was really Albert Victor, would write to Sadie sat in an armchair in the hospital ward with his smoking jacket on, asking after her, his children and neighbours. The nurses on the hospital ward said he looked like a Lord in his armchair and jacket, and so nicknamed him Sir Albert Victor. Eventually he was allowed to come home, but sadly Sadie's heart broke for a second time when her beloved Joe died in September 1972. 

In her life, Sadie was a very maternal figure and had a great instinct in that role. When visitors arrived, family or friends, they would instantly hand their bairns over to Sadie for her to cradle, knowing they'd be cherished in her arms. 

In her later years, Sadie was plagued by ill health, mainly having problems with her heart and diabetes, which is a family illness. Sadly she died on 24 August 1984, and was once again reunited with her beloved Joe. 

At the time of writing and publication, Sadie and Joe have no less than 96 blood descendants, although some have since passed on.

The 1939 Register - Update

At the stoke of midnight on 16 February, Find My Past added the 1939 Register to their subscription. No doubt, this is due to the huge backlash when Find My Past reported that the Register would only be available through purchasing credits. I for one am thankful that Find My Past have changed their minds.

*

I've already solved one mystery! I knew that my great-grandmother's sister, Margaret Taylor had married Robert Gray in 1884. Together they had at least five children. Margaret and Robert are missing from the 1911, and in six years of researching I have never came close to finding them, until now. I assumed they must have died as their children could be found living around with family members. 

I knew Margaret's birthdate from her baptism record, which is great as the 1939 Register includes the nation's dates of birth - and so Margaret and Robert were easily found! The couple were living alone in Blyth, close to where they lived before they went missing. Margaret is described as "Incapacitated".

Now that the Register is included in the subscriptions, I can also attempt to find friends of the family, or even people named in family anecdotes. 

The first person I just had to find was a lady named Mrs Norah Smith. She is spoken of in my family quite a lot as she was a close friend of my maternal grandmother, who helped her deliver some of her children. Her husband was named Harry, and at one point they lived in the flat above my grandparents. 

To my surprise I found Henry and Norah Smith living at No. 2 Orange Street, Annitsford in 1939, only three doors from my great-grandparents who lived at No. 5. Harry was born in 1900, and Norah in 1908.

Another person I thought to look for was a local shop-owner known as Lancey Boward. One aunt of mine speaks quite fondly of the shop he owned and everything he sold inside. Lancey, or Lancelot Boward was living at 26 Jubilee Terrace, Annitsford with his wife, Annie. He is described as a "Sub Postmaster" and a general dealer. An annotation also tells me that he was a special constable. 

These are just a handful of the things I have found. I can't wait to see what more there is to discover from this wonderful resource. 

Sixty Years a Miner

In April 1924, Andrew Harbertson the elder brother of my 2x great-grandfather John, died at New Hartley, Northumberland. He was later buried at Seghill churchyard. 

The Harbertson family moved from the Chatton area of Northumberland to New Hartley in around 1853. John and Andrew's father, James was a labourer on farms, but turned to mining when the family moved further south. 

Andrew was born in 1843 at Coldmartin, a piece of farmland just outside of Wooler. He was very young when his father moved the family to New Hartley, although not too young to work in the mines.  

At the age of ten, Andrew began work under the Seaton Delaval Coal Company. As a boy, his job was to release the "keps" - blocks on which the descending cage is held to stop it moving. 

The Harbertson grave.

Andrew was performing this role on 16 January 1862 when the beam in Hester Pit broke, causing the deaths of 204 men and boys - the Hartley Pit Disaster. Thankfully, Andrew and the rest of the Harbertson family were not involved in the disaster. 

The disaster was caused by the pumping engine beam snapping in half. There was an almighty crash as the beam and other debris fell to the centre of the pit. The beam was now blocking the miner's only exit from the pit, meaning they had essentially been buried alive. 

Although there were rescue attempts, carbon monoxide began to take the miners, who eventually accepted their fate. There are heartbreaking stories of hardy, staunch fathers found with their arms around their young sons, and other young boys sat on their father's knees. 

In the aftermath of the calamity, Queen Victoria herself sent letters of condolence to the miner's wives and families, in which she expressed her sincere grief, a feeling she knew well. Victoria had only lost her dear husband Prince Albert, only a month or so before. 

The 204 men and boys were to be buried at St Alban's Churchyard, Earsdon but the churchyard could not take such an amount, and so the Duke of Northumberland gave bordering land he owned to the church. 

The Hartley Pit Disaster truly changed mining forever. Six months after the disaster Parliament passed an Act, which required all new pits sunk after that date to include two shafts, to act as another means of escape in case the worst happened again. All existing pits were to sink a second shaft before the end of 1864. 

There is a memorial and garden to the miners in Earsdon churchyard, where many people go to pay tribute.

On This Day - Fenwick Morris

On 29 June 1895 Fenwick Morris was born at New Hartley, Northumberland to Matthew Morris and Hannah Bell Taylor. Fenwick was the youngest of six children, five of which were boys. He was baptised at the little parish church at Delaval on 24 July 1895. Fenwick was my grandmother's elder cousin. 

Fenwick Morris
From the Illustrated Chronicle.
Flickr

Fenwick's mother was utterly devoted to him, as after all he was the baby of the family. In August 1913, Fenwick only 18 years old was charged with "having rode his bicycle without a light." Fenwick did not appear at the Blyth Petty Sessions, but his mother Hannah did on his behalf. Hannah told the court that the reason Fenwick was not in attendance was due to him injuring himself that very same day at Hartley Pit. Under these circumstances, the court withdrew the case and he was awarded clemency.

On 24 August 1915 Fenwick enlisted in the Royal Naval Reserve at Blyth. The next day he left Blyth onboard HMS Crescent, but soon he was on HMS Natal.

HMS Natal was anchored in the Cromarty Firth during the festive period of 1915. In the afternoon of 30 December the captain of the ship, Captain Eric Back had arranged to have a film shown to the men onboard. He invited a group of civilians, namely his wife and children, and also a group of nurses from the nearby hospital ship, DRINA.

Just after 3:20pm on that day, violent explosions ripped through the ship. The ship was engulfed in flames and smoke, and within a few short minutes HMS Natal had sunk.

"As the complement of the Natal was 704 men it would appear that the loss of life was considerable, but as the ship was in harbour it is of course not certain that everyone was on board and until a definite statement is forthcoming it is safest not to assume any figures." 

The exact number of fatalities including the civilians and nurses is disputed, but the number is easily over 300, closer to 400 in fact. It was quite clear to witnesses and later divers that the calamity was caused by an unknown internal explosion. 

Stoker Fenwick Morris was lost on this fateful day, after only enlisting four months before. Hannah Bell Morris had lost her baby, aged 20 short years. 

Fenwick's name appears on the Chatham Naval Memorial, but he is also remembered on the family gravestone in Seghill churchyard. His name is there, along with his parents and two older brothers lost in the Great War.

The Morris family grave.

Merry Christmas!

"Christmas comes but once a year! Christmas! The same festive, jovial, old visitor; the same welcome, mirth-begetting Old Father Christmas, with his thousand and one pleasures, his ever sweet recollections, his time-honoured associations, recalling to one and all the happiest, merriest hours of life; the same last year, this year, and for all time; King of Holidays!

Beloved alike by young and old, rich and poor; yes dear Old Christmas is here again - once more approaching our thresholds and wishing us the compliments of the season; bidding us rekindle the blazing yule, and load the groaning tables with the best of good cheer!

Who is there in this world of ours that does not look forward with feelings of indescribable pleasure to the great annual festival?

Who is there that does not for this one day of all three hundred and sixty-five, throw aside dull care, and shut his eyes and ears to the call of business, the troubles and petty vexations of everyday life?

Who is there that does not long for the annual gathering round the family board that comes but once in the busy year, to reunite brother and sister, parent and child, in that magical home circle that bears with it an affectionate charm, unknown only to the orphan and castaway?

Miserable indeed must be that man who, like the Scrooge in Dickens's Carol who shut himself up alone from his fellow-men on this day of days, frowning in his darksome solitude on their pleasures - forgets to rejoice at this season of the year, or who from any other cause whatever cannot or will not participate in the merriment of Christmas!"

- From the Morpeth Herald, 1881.

To all my family and friends all over the world, Merry Christmas!

Harbertson Family Anecdotes *UPDATED*

My Great Grandfather, James Harbertson was born on 8 April 1880 at New Hartley, the son of John Harbertson and Margaret Ann Sharp. When James was only seven, his father died of cerebral disease. His mother Margaret soon remarried to Thomas Vickers, a neighbour from two doors away. 

When James was in his early twenties he began walking out with Sarah Jane Taylor, a local girl from the next village, Seaton Delaval. After marrying, the newly-weds moved to Newsham, a small mining village further north and close to Blyth. As a miner, it's likely James got a job in a colliery close to Newsham.

When James' mother Margaret was widowed the family moved back to New Hartley to live with her. I've already detailed this time period in Margaret's life in an earlier blog post. After staying in New Hartley for a few years, the Harbertson-Vickers family moved to the nearby village of Annitsford, and settled in No. 5 Orange Street. 

Margaret Vickers was a formidable lady, and it is said she wouldn't think twice about "marking your height" by throwing her cup of tea if you vexed her!

James in his allotment.

James Harbertson was an intelligent man, or rather as the family remember him "he had a good heed-piece on." He was quite good at fixing things, and would always lend a hand to help his neighbours out. James even worked for two doctors in nearby Burradon, with his family believing he was clever enough to be a doctor himself. As a working class man, and especially a miner, James just didn't have a good enough education. He always had his white silk scarf around his neck, contrasting with his boiler suit.

James' pride and joy was his allotment, a short walk from his house. There he grew flowers, fruit and vegetables. A trait he obviously inherited from his maternal grandfather, Joseph Sharp. James' beloved shovel was adorned with his initials, which he wrote in his own special way.

Sarah Jane was a "real grafter." She was always working, which included sweeping the street, polishing the front step and endless amounts of washing. Sarah Jane would hang the washing to dry in the wide and open Orangey's Field which the Harbertsons' house backed out onto. 

Sadly, Sarah Jane suffered from severe bronchitis and it took its toll on her over the years. She would often sit outside resting, and breathing in the fresh air. 

Sarah Jane.
Note her pinny, a sign of a real grafter.

Sarah Jane Harbertson died on 23 May 1951, and James on 5 May 1960.

James and Sarah Jane Harbertson's
headstone.

11 November 2015 - Armistice Day

On this Armistice Day I'm thinking about my maternal Grandma's cousin, Stoker Fenwick Morris. He was the son of Hannah Bell (Taylor) and Matthew Morris. 

In Flanders Fields

Fenwick died under tragic circumstances only a matter of weeks after enlisting in the Royal Naval Reserve, and the centenary of his death falls on 30 December 2015. I will publish a short biography on that day.

In total Hannah Bell and Matthew lost three sons to the war.

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Harbertson Hunting Part 3 - Wooler

From Chatton we went back to Wooler. I knew Wooler to be the burial place of quite a few of my Harbertson ancestors already. Wooler is also special because a few of the Harbertsons actually lived there.

Church Street, Wooler

Like with Kirknewton and Chatton, we started in the churchyard. Again, I didn't expect to find any headstones as the Harbertsons would probably have been too poor to have one. We checked nevertheless, but found nothing. A small section of the churchyard is covered with trees, and as we checked the surrounding headstones the wind picked up. It wasn't a particularly breezy day, so I wonder if it were my ancestors, acknowledging us coming to find them. 

The church is dedicated to St Mary, and was built in 1765 from local stone. 

 Striking 3 o'clock.

The church dates back to 1765.

A Weeping Angel?

For being built in 1765, I found the church to be fairly modern inside. Inside the door was a computer and file on a desk. A kind volunteer has transcribed the burials for Wooler, although it is not complete. I hadn't seen anything like this before in any of the churches I have visited. I was pleasantly surprised. There were the burials of my 5x Great Grandparents, James and Christian and a few of their infant children. As well as those of their eldest daughter's family, the Cessfords.

Wooler itself is clearly a popular place today. Even on a Sunday, there were quite a few people walking their dogs, and one or two people asking for directions. 

A nod to the towns farming history.

It was nice to stand in the street where my 4x Great Grandparents, Andrew and Margaret Harbertson lived - aptly named Cheviot Street.

A view from Cheviot Street.

Harbertson Hunting Part 2 - Chatton

From Kirknewton we went through Wooler and onto Chatton. The Church of the Holy Cross at Chatton is located through the village centre and down Church Hill Road. To me it seems like it has been put out of the way, rather than be in the very centre of the village. 

The Church of the Holy Cross, Chatton.

Chatton was the parish in which James and Jane Harbertson, my 3x Great Grandparents were living in the early 1850s. James was a farm labourer, working and living at Fowberry Moor. Not long after living here, James and his family moved south to New Hartley to work in the colliery there.

The church has some truly beautiful stained-glass windows, which my photographs just don't do justice.

Again I looked in the surrounding churchyard, but found no Harbertsons. One gravestone did catch my eye, however. It was the gravestone of Robert Orange and his family, who lived near to Chatton in Lyham. One remarkable coincidence is that Robert Orange's nephew, also named Robert, owned land in Annitsford and was a revered figure in the area. In 1903, this second Robert had a street of houses built, named Orange Street after him. Orange Street later became of the home of my Great Grandparents, James and Sarah Jane Harbertson and their growing family.


I have actually written a blog post on Robert Orange and the building of Orange Street.

The Orange family grave.

Harbertson Hunting Part 1 - Kirknewton

On Sunday I went north to rural Northumberland, following in the footsteps of my Harbertson ancestors. They were from the Wooler area, living on small farms where they worked the fields.

First on the list was Kirknewton. It's a tiny village - a hamlet really, only boasting a few houses, but the church is very picturesque. The church is dedicated to St Gregory the Great, with a churchyard surrounding. 

St Gregory, Kirknewton

On 19 February 1784 my 5x Great Grandparents were married here. They were James Harberson and Christian Oliver. From them descends a large family, some of which now live abroad in the US and Australia. James was a shepherd. 

James Harberson and Christian Oliver's marriage at Kirknewton.
From the Durham Bishop's Transcripts.

There are some ancient graves in the churchyard, as well as the burial place of the great Northumbrian social reformer, Josephine Butler. The churchyard is still in use today.

As is commonplace in rural areas, the church is still open to the public. Kirknewton is a very peaceful church. 

There is a chancel at the back, which felt very strange to me - it appeared to be a manmade cavern.

There is a stained-glass window in the chancel, showing Jesus in the centre, surrounded by angels. Apart from the stained-glass, there is only one other window in the chancel. From the photograph you see just how thick the walls of the church are.

St Gregory the Great

Walking back along the road to the side of the church are a set of gates, presumably only used for burials. From there is a lovely view of the church, although on the day it was slightly backlit. Opposite the church there are only fields and hills. 

A different view of the church and churchyard.

The decorated gate.

A friend I made. Wondering what I was doing!