Dorothy K’s story

In the second of our grandmother pieces, Jackie’s granny was a gamekeeper’s daughter:

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My paternal grandmother, Dorothy, was a powerful influence in my, and my sisters, lives.

I spent almost all of my life, before marriage, living with my grandmother, as we moved in with my grandparents for a while when my grandfather suffered a stroke and then my grandmother, some years later, moved in with us after my grandfather died. She lived with us for the rest of her life.

What a blessing! My three sisters and myself treasured every minute with her and even though her great grandchildren don’t all remember her they know her because of our shared memories.

She was the family historian and through her stories of childhood and her collection of family memorabilia my father, and then myself, developed a powerful regard for our past.

Dorothy Annie Winifred Kingman (Dolly) was born in 1903 in Dorset into a family of three older boys and her parents, William Harry and Georgina Fanny Kingman and when she was four the family moved to Wiltshire where her father was gamekeeper at Wraxall Park, North Wraxall, part of Lord Methuen’s (Corsham) estate.

As the only girl in the family and daughter to another strong woman, Georgina Fanny, Dolly was guaranteed to become a resilient female. My grandmother used to tell the story of how her mother had been out walking and saw what she thought was a dead rat. She poked it and it revived, running up her long skirt! My grandmother promptly grabbed the rat through her skirt preventing it running any further and continued to walk home where she promptly asked for help in removing it! That is a strong woman!

My grandmother’s oldest brothers were 15 and 13 years older than her and when she was 11 they both went off to fight in WWI, surely a frightening thing to a young girl. Living out in the woods, on a country estate with her brothers they were free to roam and concocted all sorts of high-jinks, especially with the youngest brother who was only three years older than her. She used to tell how she & her youngest brother would rattle the sugar bowl, in order to stop their mother, who was an avid reader, reading. Or how, when the hunt riders passed through the estate, their mother would grab them and race after the horses in order to see the colorful spectacle. Being a “country girl” never left my grandmother, and I have great memories of walking with her in the countryside around Slaughterford, as she told tales and shared her knowledge of plants and animals.

My great grandfather retired from game-keeping in 1914 and with her parents my grandmother moved, aged 11, to the Castle Inn, Castle Combe where her father became the publican. She didn’t share many stories of that time of her life other than that her father was the public face of the pub but she and her mother worked hard behind the scenes and cared for him when he became too ill to continue. After he died in 1928 my great grandmother and grandmother carried on running the pub for two years, which speaks volumes as to the kind of strength they had between them and the respect in which they were held locally, as it was rare, in that time period, for women to hold the position of publican.

When my grandmother went school at Castle Combe she met a young boy, called Leslie and they eventually married in 1931. She told me that the thing she loved most about my grandfather was his ability to make her laugh, she recalled him being more entertaining than some of the movies they would go to watch in Chippenham! She was a lady who loved to laugh and my memories of her always include laughter.

They lived in Marshfield after they were married and three years later their only child, my dad, Michael, was born. As I write this I am realizing that she was 28 when she married, and 31 when my dad came along…. an older bride and mother in those times.

My grandfather was a clerk and then became mill manager at the paper mill, WJ Dowdings, in Slaughterford, Wilts in 1938 and with that promotion came the opportunity to move from their small home to the rather grand sounding Mill House, my great grandmother joining them in their move and living with them until her death.

My father was four and this house became his childhood home, and also the favorite home of my childhood. Nana was in her element here, an opportunity to once again live in the country, grow her own fruit and vegetables, become part of a small community and give her son the childhood she had lived. My dad, was a sickly child, suffering from pernicious anaemia when small and my grandmother had to endure watching him having painful injections and encourage him to drink Ribena, which he loathed all his life. I suspect this home was full of merriment, as my father also inherited his parent’s humor, and recounted how on one occasion he teased his mother so much that she grabbed the fire poker and jokingly chased him around the house!

During the war my grandmother’s sense of responsibility became more apparent as she and my grandfather opened up their home to evacuees, family and friends who had lost everything during the bombings of Bath and Bristol. One of my father’s cousins who had lived with them for some time, remembered my grandmother as baking amazing cakes and being full of fun. My grandmother had an open heart, she always welcomed people into her home, from the evacuees, the cousins, to the little boy who lived next door to them when my dad was born. He lost his father before the war and his mother had to work so each weekend MP, as he became known, would stay with my grandparents. A paper mill truck picked him up on a Friday & on Sunday my grandmother would walk the 1.5 miles to Ford with him so he could get the bus home. This young boy became a “foster” son to them and a brother, in all but name, to my father, and remained so his entire life.

After Dad married my mother, my grandmother was thrilled to have four granddaughters to spend time with. During my early childhood we also lived in Slaughterford, and when my grandfather suffered a stroke we moved in with them so that my dad could help my grandmother once again care for someone she loved. We did move away as his health improved but loved nothing more than our monthly weekend visits and our long holidays in the summer. For me, time spent with my grandmother was an absolute joy. Usually my sister Rachel and myself would leave my younger sisters behind with our parents, and have the delight of time spent with Nana. She would always spend time with us despite having an invalid husband, whether it was a long walk with the dog and making cups out of acorns to fill with drinks for the fairies that resided in the hollow tree trunk, or allowing us to entertain her with our homemade plays and games involving dressing up. Her enthusiasm when hearing the first cuckoo of spring, as she would call us to come and listen, remains in all our memories. Bedtime stories were always read and laughter was always heard. We were encouraged to explore and wander, much as she had done as a child.

After my grandfather died Nana came to live with us, a traumatic time of her life I am realizing now as an adult. The day my grandfather was buried my grandmother was told she must leave her home of 33 years within two weeks. She packed up her life and moved in to a small family home already bursting at the seams with a dog and four young children. Of course, as a child, I only remember the delight of having this lovely lady living with us but for both my mother and my grandmother it must have been incredibly challenging. She lived with us for the next 24 years, and for her granddaughters it was wonderful! My mother was able to go back to work and we came home to a grandmother who seemed interested in everything, and I mean everything that happened in our school day! She loved to read and was always by our side when we visited the library van, pouring over the books we had chosen with us. Over the years she gamely listened to our music, always listening to the latest purchase or watching us gyrate around the living room in front of Top Of The Pops, trying on our latest shoe purchases and providing a shoulder to cry on when lovelorn teenagers. Often we would “post” little cards we had made under her door, and after my fathers recent death, we were touched when we discovered that both she and he had lovingly kept them. If we were to complain that our parents didn’t understand us she would listen but never take sides.

When I decided to train to be a nurse I saw the pride in her eyes as she told me that it was a career path she would have liked to have followed, and she was ever the enthusiastic listener when I came home and shared vivid stories at the dinner table, accompanied by repulsed groans from everyone else. When I was getting married one of my fondest memories is of Nana and I going outfit shopping together, a day of, no surprise, laughter. As a new wife I treasured the opportunity to have her to visit my home and be able to look after her as she had done to me all those years. I was so pleased to be the one to provide her with her first great grandson, who had some serious medical issues but she was always a quiet strength and loved having us visit. She and I would sit at the dining table for hours, Nana holding Thom, and chat about everything; her family memories, what we’d been reading or watching on TV and support each other in the new life phase each of us found ourselves. Nana loved being a great grandmother and was lucky to be able to meet three of her six great grandchildren.

My sisters and I all count ourselves lucky to have had this strong, sassy, funny, loving woman in our lives. She taught us compassion and kind-heartedness, showed tolerance and humor under pressure and most of all left me with childhood memories of a loving laughing woman.

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The Women Who Made Me actively welcomes submissions from anyone who has a story to tell about women from their family. To submit a woman from your family for inclusion in The Women Who Made Me project, contact Lucy of Once Upon A Family Tree. If you don’t think you have anyone, she begs to differ and can help you discover your female relatives’ lives.

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Hannah F’s story

In the first of our grandmother pieces, Alison’s granny worked in codes and ciphers during WW2, but her involvement has never been officially acknowledged:

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My grandmother Hannah (known as Ciss) was born at the beginning of the twentieth century in Ireland, which was then a British colony. The youngest of four siblings, the family squeezed into a tiny terrace house in Queenstown, now Cobh, the port of the city of Cork. Her father and a brother were employed in shipbuilding, and the family home looked directly over the harbour. When the British passenger ship R.M.S. Lusitania was torpedoed and sunk in the First World War, Ciss watched from the dockside as the bedraggled survivors were brought to shore.

Fast forward five years when the war is over and another ship arrives in port, this time carrying my grandfather Eric (Don) Lambert, a Royal Marine. Don may have been English, but crucially, he was a Catholic. His relationship with Ciss had the full approval of her family as well as the Church. They were married in Cobh in the mid-1920s. Ciss left her homeland and moved to England to the South West where Don’s Royal Marines unit was based.

Their daughter Mary, known as Molly, was born two years later. When she was just a toddler, Don was sent away to sea for a year, leaving Ciss behind to cope on her own. When he was home on leave they made the most of their time together, taking to the road on the family motorbike, Ciss and Molly squeezing into the tiny sidecar. The Lamberts were then posted to Deal in Kent.

In the year that George VI was crowned King, my grandfather reached the end of his Royal Marines commission. His prospects looked bleak at a time of high unemployment. He was recruited for what would turn out to be a life-changing job in South East Asia, first in Hong Kong, then Singapore.

He and then Ciss worked for the Admiralty in a highly secretive job in codes and cyphers, listening in on Japanese naval communications. It was an exacting but monotonous job and involved shift work, including nights. After spending World War Two crisscrossing the oceans with the Eastern Fleet, to Ceylon, East Africa and back to Ceylon, my grandparents returned to their beloved Singapore. What they were doing there remains a mystery but I know that they still both worked for the Admiralty. While my grandfather is on the official veterans register at Bletchley Park and was awarded an OBE, Ciss and wives like her, never had their war work officially acknowledged, as she was employed as local staff.

In the early 1960s, Don was forced to retire and he and Ciss reluctantly returned to live in the UK after more than thirty years in South East Asia. They missed their life and the heat of Singapore. England was grey, wet and miserable. Don died not long after and Ciss was facing life alone as a widow. She was heartbroken. But despite this tragedy, she threw herself into her role of grandparent to we three children with gusto. Because our parents also lived and worked in South East Asia, Nan, as we called her, became our saviour, spoiling us rotten, giving us a much- needed respite from boarding school.

In her 70s, she moved house and country to live with our family in New Zealand. She was delighted to be recognised and greeted by name by the elderly doorman at her hotel when she stopped over in Singapore. Life in her new home wasn’t easy as not long after she arrived her son-in-law died in a family tragedy. Molly and Ciss had each other, but the two of them had opposite personalities and Ciss had always found her daughter to be a handful. Ciss made the best of her situation: she charmed everyone she met and when she died in her 80s, after complications from minor surgery, there were many who mourned her.

The girl from Cobh became one of the few Irish women who was permitted to work for British intelligence. She was a wife, a mother and our beloved grandmother. When we children asked her about what she did in the war, she would put a finger to her lips and say ‘codes and ciphers.’ The work that went on at Bletchley Park was still classified and Ciss was good at keeping secrets. It was only when I started researching my memoir, Castles in the Air: A Family Memoir of Love and Loss did I find out the true extent of what this work involved.

When Ireland became an independent country, because of the sensitive nature of her work, Ciss was not permitted to become a dual national. That baton has been passed to her descendants: I have recently become an Irish citizen. I plan to make a trip to Cork to say a silent thank you, and to take the opportunity to reflect upon an ordinary woman who lived through extraordinary times.

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Alison Ripley Cubitt is a multi-genre author.  Connect with her on Twitter @lambertnagle, on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alisonripleycubittwriter or visit her website: lambertnagle.com

The Women Who Made Me actively welcomes submissions from anyone who has a story to tell about women from their family. To submit a woman from your family for inclusion in The Women Who Made Me project, contact Lucy of Once Upon A Family Tree. If you don’t think you have anyone, she begs to differ and can help you discover your female relatives’ lives.

Gwladys S’s story

Understanding where someone else is coming from in political matters is hard enough at the best of times, but Gwladys’ position – against the background of a militant fight from women to gain the vote at the beginning of the 20th century – is particularly boggling. She was an active anti-suffragist at the point where the WSPU were at their height.

Today, with 100 years of women having the vote behind us, the idea that an educated woman could somehow oppose the idea of enfranchising herself and her sisters beggars belief. However, this is exactly what Gwladys did. Often vociferously.

Her background appears to have been somewhat small-C conservative. She was the second daughter of a congregational minister and his Welsh wife, born in Wales towards the end of the 1870s. The family had enough money to afford a couple of servants, and spent time in South Wales, London and Kent – as Gwladys’ father’s job moved. Both Gwladys and her elder sister were educated at boarding school, while her brothers appear to have gone to school closer to home.

After school Gwladys became a teacher, holding a position at a school for daughters of the clergy in Bristol. The school building no longer stands, but the school still exists.

In the mid-1900s, she married a South African artist who was living in the UK after the death of his father. A son followed, but the couple separated only after a few years together.

In some cases, after separation in an era when divorce was hard and costly to obtain, and carried considerable social stigma, the estranged husband would often maintain his wife. However, this was not the full case for Gwladys. The 1911 census sees her in London, supporting herself and her son with a job – as organising secretary for the National League for Opposing Women’s Suffrage – and she states on the form that she is estranged from him.

At this point, the National League had recently amalgamated from the Women’s National Anti-Suffrage League and the Men’s League for Opposing Woman Suffrage, and its president was Lord Cromer. The 1911 census is the first readily-available document linking Gwladys to the League, but it is possible that she was involved in the Women’s Anti-Suffrage League before this.

However long she had been involved, Gwladys came to more prominence under the leadership of Lord Curzon and Lord Weardale, who took over in early 1912. An educated, articulate woman actively opposing something that others of her sex were prepared to fight and be imprisoned for must have been extremely useful for their cause.

She had been an Anti-Suffragist correspondent to a publication called The World, and is mentioned as such in a letter to that publication by Emily Wilding Davison in 1911. She writes:

“To turn to (Gwladys’) second point, which is ‘that all the reforms women might bring about with the vote they can certainly bring about without it.’ No doubt they can do so, but only by an iniquitous waste of energy and time. Here is an anti who probably believes ardently in woman keeping to woman’s sphere, telling us to choose the longer, the more cumbrous, the more nerve-wearing, the more doubtful, method of working, by means of stirring public opinion (which, of course, can be stirred, but it is often a killing process), instead of using the obviously practical, effective, and easy way of the vote.”

Gwladys would often write into publications at the time, stating the anti-suffrage point of view and refuting anything that pro-suffrage supporters said about her activities that she felt was inaccurate.

In 1912, Gwladys wrote to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, later Prime Minister, David Lloyd George, at least twice. Her letters give a further clue to her reasoning:

“As a typical women householder and rate and tax payer I beg you – a typical man – to take upon your stronger shoulders the burden of responsibility for the safety of the Empire, the Army, Navy, Trade, Shipping, Mining, Railways etc. I am too thankful to pay my taxes in return for your protection, if only you will leave me to look after my home and my child. It is true that I am in the unfortunate position of having to earn a livelihood as well as perform the duties of a mother, but why, why on that account do you want to add still more to my responsibilities and duties?”

The second letter elaborates further:

“The great difficulty in my work has been that people think it is so preposterous to suggest giving women control of Imperial affairs which they do not administer, that there is no danger of “votes for women” becoming law. If woman suffrage is put into the Reform bill the Liberal Government will be wrecked. Are we to lose the Insurance Bill, Home Rule, Welsh Disestablishment, and Land Reform, for the sake of a mere quarter of a million of misguided women who most of them only want to enfranchise the women of property for the sake of the Conservative Party? Are the other 12 ¾ millions of women to be utterly ignored?”

On the back of this growing notoriety, Gwladys embarked on visits to many towns and cities in the UK during 1912-14, setting up and speaking at anti-suffrage meetings. Sometimes she was invited to speak, and at other times she would turn up in a town, advertise a meeting via men with sandwich boards, pitch up in the market place and speak for an hour.

This took place at a time when the suffragette campaign was at its height, and the suffragettes were often targets for her ire, newspaper reports of her speeches indicate.

““We are not asking for votes,” declared the speaker. “we are asking that you will save us from the suffragettes.” Women had their own work, and could not, even those who called themselves sportsmen, afford to take over the risks of men. Women knew nothing of the laws – many suffragettes had never read a single law – and thought they could make them better. Why did they not come forward with some of their ideas on legislation? As to the economic argument, women were not worth as much as men, and so long as men were obliged to support their wives and children they ought to be paid more. Then they said they would bring purity into politics. They had made a good start, hadn’t they? Their methods were the most degrading and debasing the world had ever known. They said they would not take human life – no, because they might get hanged. We were supposed to be a nation of sportsmen, and a sportsman could not hit in the dark, stab in the back, or hit anyone who could not hit back, and the suffragettes did all these things, and what was so disgraceful, they did it in the name of the women of England. The suffrage was a retrogressive movement (Loud applause). The suffragettes were trying to shift the women’s movement on to the wrong lines, just when women were beginning to take their right place. But women were going to advance, and in spite of the suffragettes. They now had the municipal vote, leading them to a useful field. It was so awful to think how the world, whole world was laughing at women. They all knew what was thought of the hen-pecked husband? Then they must not let their glorious nation do down to posterity as the hen-peck nation.”

The Cambridge Independent, March 7 1913

Other arguments she used included that women’s interests would result in too many insignificant and cluttering bills being brought into parliament – like the dangers of flannelette clothing – and that giving women the vote might adversely affect the birth rate at a time when there was a great deal of rhetoric about breeding a strong nation. She felt that women could be more effective in – and improve – society if they were given more control over domestic affairs, and brought up better people by focusing on their children, and that having the vote would distract from this.

The way in which Gwladys appears to argue – from the newspaper reports of her speeches – shows her to be intelligent and articulate, and she states on several occasions that she doesn’t see women’s intelligence to be inferior to men. It is therefore hard, from a modern perspective, to see how she can have arrived at these conclusions about the role of women in society. Her background may have had some bearing on it. So also may have been the fact that her ex-mother-in-law and ex-sister-in-law were prominent suffragettes – the former being jailed for breaking Black Rod’s windows at the Houses of Parliament, and the latter mailing herself to 10 Downing Street – and it is always possible that this, combined with the fact that she was estranged from her husband and former family, added fuel to her fire.

The First World War midway through 1914 brought an effective end to the suffragette campaign, with activists devoting themselves to the fight for the country. As the war went on, women filled many jobs that men off fighting had previously undertaken, and proved that they were perfectly capable of undertaking this work, and public opinion started to change. Many prominent female anti-suffrage speakers drifted away, but Gwladys – perhaps due to economic necessity – stayed loyal and continued to campaign and speak. An article from a suffrage supporter to a publication called The Vote in 1917 makes mention to her still being active in the campaign, at a point where the bill to give women the vote, which came in early February 1918, was being drafted.

With the right to vote in general elections given to certain groups of women – and virtually all men over 21 – in 1918, the National League for Opposing Women’s Suffrage had lost their impetus and gradually disbanded, taking Gwladys’ job with it. Her son would now have been in his early teens, and still in need of support and care.

She turned to writing educational books – although her 1939 register entry also calls her a public speaker, so it appears that she still addressed meetings – on language teaching to children. Her books included three on early French teaching, one on German, one on Spanish, and one on Esperanto. Some of these remained in publication until at least 1970.

Just before the Second World War, she changed her surname by deed poll. She resigned the married name she had used during her anti-suffrage days – she does not appear to have ever divorced, so this would have been the next best thing – and instead became known by part of her former maiden name. Around the same time, she appears on the electoral registers – so perhaps had mellowed on her previous stance.

Her son fought in the war, and spent time in a prisoner of war camp. In later life Gwladys moved to Cheshire, close to where her son was employed, and also spent some time in some African counties – possibly accompanying her son, who conducted research into tropical medicine. She died in a nursing home in the mid-1960s.

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The Women Who Made Me actively welcomes submissions from anyone who has a story to tell about women from their family. To submit a woman from your family for inclusion in The Women Who Made Me project, contact Lucy of Once Upon A Family Tree. If you don’t think you have anyone, she begs to differ and can help you discover your female relatives’ lives.

Nellie W’s story

Nellie W began her life in Chicago, born on the corner of Clark & LaSalle Streets, in 1871. She was born to English parents, Rachel H who had moved to the USA as a small child with her family, from Milwich in Staffordshre, for reasons not yet explained. Nellie’s father was Thomas W a carpenter/builder from County Durham who went to the USA, presumably to seek his fortune.

Sadly Rachel died in childbirth (the baby died too) when Nellie was only five years old, Rachel is buried in Topeka, Kansas where the family had moved from Chicago.

With no mother to look after Nellie and her older sister Katie (Kitty), their father Thomas returned with them to England, so they could be looked after by their Aunt (his sister).

It’s possible that Rachel’s death may not have been the only reason for their return. Passenger records show that the family had made another trip back to England when Nellie was only two years old, maybe a trial return to England that failed or perhaps they were rich enough to have a holiday? Nellie and Kitty left Aunts on their mother’s side of the family behind in the USA, who could have presumably looked after them, so perhaps Thomas was just ready to return home.

The story is that on the journey back, people on the boat were organising some sort of concert and asked Kitty if she had a piece to perform, to which she replied “no, but my little sister will”. Nellie entertained the passengers by reciting poems, whether they were ones she had learnt or just made up on the spot, history doesn’t relate.

Once the family arrived in England, they stayed the night in London, but the girls got bored in the hotel so decided to go out for a walk. Apparently people were most surprised and concerned to see the two girls walking round unaccompanied, maybe the hotel was in a “shady area” or young women in England were not given the same freedom as in the USA.

After arriving in County Durham young Nellie continued to amuse and bemuse the crowds. Asking “have you got any gum” in the sweet shop and then when a horse and cart went past, running to the door shouting “oh look a buggy!” – everyone thought she was swearing!

Nellie and Kitty had a rather strict and austere upbringing with their Aunt, Nellie rebelled saying “I won’t, I won’t” if she didn’t want to wear something awful. Kitty was more compliant but eventually had enough and ran away to be a milliner in central London. Nellie stayed close to home but later described her aunt, “put it this way, she never called me hinny”.

Census records prove that Nellie’s Aunt was his father’s older sister Jane. She can be found living with her husband Cuth Pearson and Nellie in 1881. The 1861 census shows that Jane and Cuth did have one daughter Sarah, but that she died in infancy, maybe Nellie was a poor substitute.

In 1891 Nellie is lodging with a William Pearson and his wife Annie in Selbourne Terrace Darlington and is now working as a dressmaker. William appears to be no relation to Cuth so it’s unknown how Nellie ended up in these lodgings.

It must have been around that time that Nellie met Frederick Airey because by 1893 they were married and in January 1896 a daughter, Winifred Willis Airey, was born, Nellie had miscarried a child previously, but had no further children.

It seems a happy marriage, they had good times and poorer times according to the fluctuations of the building trade and moved house many times as a result. It’s known that Fred was a worried parent and that Nellie had a more pragmatic approach. She was around the same height as him (about 5ft 4) so wore flat shoes in his company. After his death one of his cousins showed an interest in Nellie and daughter Winnie said “why don’t you go with him, he’s very like Dad?” to which Nellie replied, “your father had bright blue eyes and he has steely grey ones”.

Nellie has been described by other relatives: “Mrs W seemed rather genteel”. She brought Winnie up to play the piano, embroider and crochet. She and Nellie read the complete works of Dickens, the Brontes and I presume Jane Austen as a matter of course. Nellie quoted poetry to her daughter who in turn quoted it back to me saying “you will remember this won’t you” I am afraid I didn’t try to remember it as it irritated me for some reason, but of course wish I did now. It was not whole poems but rhyming couplets relating to places we were visiting or something that had happened.

“yorkshire pudding and gravy like rain, i could eat til i was hungry again”

“the narrow lanes of Devon…”

Nellie has also been described as “a most sensible woman”. Apparently, she said “you need to be a girl in a dress, not a dress on a girl”, an interesting comment from an ex-dressmaker!

Other assorted facts known about Nellie W.

She went to the pictures twice weekly.

She had flexible fingers that could be bent backwards.

She knew without going to church what the preacher would be preaching about in any given week, (not sure how she did this but my father said she was always right).

She had wide calves and narrow ankles – something to be proud of at that time apparently, probably early 1920s…

 

From photographs you can see that she liked a flamboyant hat and was always dressed in style, daughter Winnie was beautifully turned out as a little girl.

Nellie had quick reactions. When her grandson Norman was a toddler they were visited by a little girl of roughly the same age as him, they were all admiring the little girl’s new shoes, apart from Norman, who picked them up and flung them in the fire! Nellie just as quickly whipped them out again.

Nellie and daughter Winnie also performed a trick while cycling where they could take off their jackets and swap them with each other. I am not sure if they then put on each other’s jackets – maybe.

Of the expression “rain before 7, fine by 11” she said that she wasn’t sure if this referred to 11 in the morning or 11 at night.

She would describe the weather as “glishy” this was when you get a bright crystal clear morning with everything clearly defined, then it turns to rain, almost the exact reverse of “rain before 7”. Glishy is actually given in a dictionary of words used in Swaledale.

Nellie was sadly, racist; this was against her character in other ways and not something passed on to daughter Winnie, who was remarkably aware of race issues and accepting especially for someone of her era. After a visit to the home by a black man, Nellie beat all the cushions and swept the floor trying to get rid of all traces of him, it was most odd. Winnie could only think that it was some experience that Nellie had as a child in the USA, but as she left there at five years old this seems unlikely, but maybe something was ingrained in her at the time. I don’t know what sister Kitty’s attitude was, but leaving the USA at 12 any prejudices may already have been formed and these may have been passed on to Nellie.

Nellie lived with daughter Winnie from Winnie’s birth, I think that after Winnie married Billy Jackson they lived with Fred Airey and Nellie, but after Fred’s death the tables turned and Nellie lived with Winnie and Billy, moving with the family from Darlington to Widnes for six years when Norman was one year old, and then on to Leeds where Billy eventually bought a house in Meanwood and it was there that Nellie ended her days.

Nellie was a capable woman and I get the impression often did things for Winnie without meaning to undermine her, but making Winnie seem more incapable than she actually was by not really giving her a chance. Winnie did take over the housekeeping though, as by the 1939 census Nellie is described as “incapacitated”. Despite a weak heart and suffering a mild stroke she kept going until her 81st year, living until 1851. Nellie is buried with husband Fred in Darlington North Cemetery with Fred’s parents William and Sarah.

A bit more about Kitty who had no descendants to describe her

Kitty’s birth certificate was burnt in the Great Fire of Chicago, she and her father argued about which year she was born in, so she was never sure to a year as to how old she was.

When she ran away to work in a hat shop it was to a shop in central London, clearly not one to do things by halves.

She was rather eccentric compared to Nellie’s sensibleness. Extremely tidy, she once threw a brand new bag of lace in the fire while tidying up, (Nellie didn’t manage to fish this out, unlike the baby shoes).

Kitty had one baby named Norman, but he died during his first year of life.

She was fun, letting her Great nephew (another Norman) teach her semaphore with much flag waving and hilarity.

You could detect a slight American accent when she said the word squirrel.

She lived to about 84 years of age.

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Nellie’s story was submitted by Joanna.

The Women Who Made Me actively welcomes submissions from anyone who has a story to tell about women from their family. To submit a woman from your family for inclusion in The Women Who Made Me project, contact Lucy of Once Upon A Family Tree. If you don’t think you have anyone, she begs to differ and can help you discover your female relatives’ lives.

 

Caroline B’s story

International traveller, politician’s wife, member of the aristocracy, and divorcee are all fairly important things to have achieved in the later 19th and early 20th century, but to have been all four was the preserve of Caroline.

She spent her childhood travelling between South America and the UK, which sounds fairly exotic now, but in the later part of the 19th century it was the preserve of all but the very monied. She was born to Americans living in Lima, Peru, in the early 1870s. Her father had set up an artificial ice company in Peru which grew to become a thriving brewery and took him back and forth across the Atlantic between South America and the UK. The family (Caroline was the oldest of 11) went with him – one of her brothers was born in the UK, while the rest all had Peru as a birthplace – but while her brothers were educated at British boarding schools Caroline and her sisters remained with the family and received their education closer to home.

As a wealthy white woman at this time in South America, Caroline would have socially mixed with others reckoned to be of equal standing, and it was from this pool of society that she met her husband – a man of British parentage but South American birth, who was also engaged going back and forth across the Atlantic running an importing business. They married in Lima in the mid-1890s, and Caroline became a British citizen by marriage.

Three children followed over the next few years, two born in Chile and one in the UK, and Caroline and the children still supported her husband by travelling back and forth across the Atlantic as his business demanded. As her sons grew, they were sent to British boarding schools like their uncles before them, but Caroline’s daughter remained with her parents.

On her father’s death, at the tail end of the 19th century, Caroline’s mother moved from Peru to London, bringing her younger siblings with her.

Her husband saw service during the First World War, but Caroline still appears to have spent that period travelling back and forth between the UK and South America, even at a point when shipping in the Atlantic could be risky due to U-Boat activity. Her sons also served in the armed forces, while her daughter remained with her parents.

It was as the Great War came to an end that things started to change. Caroline’s husband left his business ambitions behind him, and developed political ambitions. He stood as an independent Liberal candidate – in full support of the Coalition government but without being given a coupon – for a Wiltshire constituency in the 1918 general election. This catapulted Caroline from the wife of a company director to a political wife – which would have involved supporting not only his political views but appearing at various political meetings and rallies in her own right as his wife. The Representation of the People Act 1918 had enfranchised almost all men over the age of 21, and in this era many politicians were drawn from the higher echelons of society. A loyal and supportive wife and family background – as displayed by Caroline and her husband and children – helped politicians draw parallels with themselves in the minds of the electorate.

The Act also gave the vote to women over 30, who were householders or part of a university constituency, and another act just before this election enabled women over 21 to stand as candidates. However, with only 17 women standing over the entire country, most candidates were still traditional politicians, and the candidate’s wife was expected to appeal to the newly enfranchised women by endorsing her husband. Campaigning at this time, with no television or radio, was done through the newspapers and frequent political meetings – where the candidate’s wife would also address the assembled crowd. Caroline would have stood up and made speeches at these meetings to endorse her husband’s candidacy and political views.

Her husband failed to gain the seat in Wiltshire, where he faced the coalition-backed existing Conservative candidate, and by the next election had moved on to a new constituency in Nottinghamshire. The family, who retained a great deal of money from his successful business, had purchased a large stately home, and Caroline became mistress of this. Her home included a library, a billiards room, seven ‘best’ bedrooms, provision for many servants and ornamental gardens. Hunting parties and other pursuits befitting stately homes at this time also became part of her life. This would have befitted her status as the MP’s wife, as her husband won the seat in the 1922 election, only to lose it again in the snap election held in 1923 when Prime Minister Bonar Law fell ill and resigned. She was returned to her status as MP’s wife at the following election in 1924, and retained that role until 1930.

Her husband was also invested as a Baronet in the late 1920s, in addition to being an MP – although by this time he’d switched allegiance to the Conservative Party. Caroline became Lady Caroline.

Financial problems had led to the couple becoming bankrupt, and Caroline had to leave her large house behind as it was sold to pay debts. As a consequence of this, her husband also resigned as an MP in 1930, and Caroline could retire from that public role.

Their marriage started to disintegrate in the 1930s, and by 1938 she had become a divorcee – easier at this point in the century on account of new divorce legislation brought in in the later 1920s, but no less stigma-laden in an era where couples were societally expected to stay together and work through difficulties.

Her ex-husband remarried quickly, but Caroline remained single for the remaining six years of her life. She died just after the end of the Second World War, leaving a considerable amount of money to her eldest son and a solicitor.

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The Women Who Made Me actively welcomes submissions from anyone who has a story to tell about women from their family. To submit a woman from your family for inclusion in The Women Who Made Me project, contact Lucy of Once Upon A Family Tree. If you don’t think you have anyone, she begs to differ and can help you discover your female relatives’ lives.

Bessie G’s story

The name “Miss B Gramlich” is given as a co-chair of the West Wiltshire WSPU, alongside Lillian Dove-Willcox (a prominent member known to have relocated to Trowbridge from Bristol) in 1911-12.

This would appear to be Elizabeth Gramlick, one of several daughters of a wealthy family who at that time were living at the now-demolished grand house of Springfield, on Hilperton Road in Trowbridge.

 

Bessie was born in c1881, at least the fifth child of seven from Bethnal Green-born John Thomas Gramlick and his wife Emily Hornsby. Like most of her siblings (she had five sisters and a brother), she was born in Vienna, where her father made a good living as a plumber, putting in water supplies and indoor plumbing for grand palaces. The family were part of a good number of English people – despite their Germanic surname, John Thomas appears to have been English for several generations back – in the Austrian capital, and seem to have played a big part in that society. He is known to have been a founder of the Vienna Cricket and Football Club.

At some point around the turn of the century, Bessie and her family returned to the UK. Her father appears to have retired from running the plumbing business full time, and left his son and oldest child in charge. It’s unknown where they settled at first – the 1901 census has the family holidaying at a boarding house in Brighton – but by 1904 when Bessie’s mother died the family were clearly well settled in Trowbridge society.

The local newspaper report of Emily Gramlick’s funeral reports on many tributes from local people, and floral arrangements from all daughters including “Little Bess” – a pet name for Bessie.

There are sporadic reports of the family in newspapers of the first decade of the 20th century. The Misses Gramlick appear to have played tennis among other society women, and attended grand weddings – Bessie contributed a fancy cushion as a present to one, while her sisters offered a butter knife. There is also a report of Bessie being a fair amateur actress in a production of Red Riding Hood at Staverton School Room in 1906, which involved various of her sisters. Bessie played the Queen of Sylvania, and reportedly acted it in a “graceful and artistic way”.

Bessie’s name appearing as the co-chair of the West Wilts WSPU in 1911-12 is concurrent with her appearance on the 1911 census. On this document she is 30 and has no profession – like all of her sisters. She’s given by her full name Elizabeth. All her sisters are at home, and unmarried.

A reception for women to discuss votes for women was held by the WSPU at Trowbridge Town Hall on 14 March 1911, but while the invitation came from Lillian Dove-Willcox there was no mention of Bessie’s connection to the movement. There is no further connection of the WSPU to Bessie Gramlick in the newspapers at the time.

Instead, the next record available shows that she volunteered for the Voluntary Red Cross at Trowbridge in February 1916. She worked six hours per week at the Wilts War Hospital Supply Depot, as a member of the BRCS, and was retained until 1919. She was awarded a VW badge for this.

In 1921 it appears both Bessie and her sister Mary married, probably at the same time. Bessie Gramlick became Bessie LeCount as she married Charles J Lecount in West Ham. She would have been 40 years old when this marriage took place, and probably regarded as a confirmed spinster by the society circles she moved in.

However, her father’s will, enacted around six months after her wedding took place, refers to both Bessie and Mary as spinsters. Their married status probably hadn’t had a chance to be updated by the time he died in early 1922. Bessie, Mary and another spinster sister Emily inherited nearly £6,000 and were still given as living at Springfield in Trowbridge.

Bessie and Charles appear to have a son – Charles – in 1922, when she was around 40, and a daughter – Peggy – in 1929 when she was around 48, and lived in West Ham. Her unmarried sister Emily appears to have kept up the family home at Springfield, but used her inheritance to travel – the late 20s and early 30s have her going back and forth between the UK, Italy and Indonesia – while Bessie stayed in Essex with her husband and children.

Bessie Lecount died in 1955 at the age of 73, in Essex. Family trees online give Bessie’s death, unmarried, as 1951 in Trowbridge. However, there is no record that backs up this account.