Bartholomew and Catherine Sugrue
ISABELLE BANE----------MARY SEAGROVE----------THOMAS SEAGROVE----------BARTHOLOMEW & CATHERINE SUGRUE
County Kerry and the Irish peasant life, such was the all too familiar world for both Bartholomew Sugrue and Catherine Sheehan throughout their youth, a world they would leave far behind, the trigger for such change being the arising of the potato famine.
Bartholomew of County Kerry, born in 1825, was the son of a labourer, Thomas Sugrue and his wife Joanna. Catherine, born in 1826, was the daughter of a shoemaker, James Sheehan (I don't yet know the name of her mother). They were both born in one of the most beautiful of Irish landscapes, famed for it's song 'The rose of Tralee', for the dolphins of Dingle Bay and a scenic route known as the ring of Kerry. The Sugrue's were a traditional Kerry family, who since ancient times had remained small in numbers and had stayed living locally. Their name derived from the Gaelic O Siochfhradha, equivalent to the European name of Siegfried. As for Catherine's family, the Sheehan's, they had come to Kerry from neighbouring County Clare, and their Gaelic name was O Siodhachain, meaning 'gentle and courteous'. With Catherine's father having a trade, he being a shoemaker, her family may have been better placed financially; but then again, it does appear that Bartholomew had some level of education, being able to sign his own name in documents, at a time when most people, being illiterate, simply made the mark of the cross. As was the way for most poorer Irish their religion was Roman Catholicism.
It is through Bartholomew's sister, Ellen, who was a few years older than him, giving her birthplace in one of the later London census's as Church Hill, County Kerry, that I at last understood where this family was from. The Sugrue's would have lived there, maybe not always, but at least some of the time, and maybe much of the time. The old picture below which I've found of Church Hill I just love. This village is a recognised archaeological place of interest, set on a hill overlooking vast landscapes, including sea views. There had been an medieval church there, as the name indicates, supplanted later by a protestant church. Hence Roman Catholic locals, like the Sugrues, had to walk further to a run down dilapidated chapel, in a neighbouring village called Chapeltown, for their religious life. Eventually Church Hill would have its own Roman Catholic Church once more, although not until after Bartholomew and his sister had left Ireland for a new life in England. Tralee, from where came the folk song 'the rose of Tralee' which I used to like to play on the piano and guitar, was the nearest sizeable town, 10 klms away.
I wonder if the Sugrues also lived some of the time at nearby Tonereigh, my curiosity about this being due to a newspaper article I've found in which a local man, Thomas Sugrue (the name of Bartholomew's father), got in trouble there, along with many others, for chasing away a new priest, Thomas Carmody of Ballinamona, whom the people refused to accept as a replacement for their already long established, much beloved priest, David O'Connor. This rebel Thomas Sugrue, along with one of his sons, also called Thomas, was part of the mass of rioting locals, who forcefully threw out the new priest from their chapel, which although locked up by them, he he'd broken into to perform mass there for the first time. That was back in the spring of 1845, the year before Bartholomew was first to be seen in Greenwich, marrying there an older woman Ellen Sullivan. John Sullivan was one of the other mentioned rioters, the name of Ellen's father, so one does wonder could these be the actual fathers involved in this rioting. The other mentioned rebels, who were majorly involved, were three MacCarthy brothers, two of whom were John and Michael, as well as Denis Barton, Joseph Kennington and John Murphy. John McCarthy happens to have been the name in England of one of Bartholomew's Irish lodgers, as would be revealed in the census of 1861. The rural chapel, which was at Tonereigh, alias Toneragh (south of Tralee), was one built and maintained by the villagers themselves. They wished still for their old priest, whom the Bishop had deemed no longer capable of doing his duty. The men would not allow the new priest to enter, keeping the chapel doors and windows nailed up, but on that particular Sunday morning the priests men came and broke open the doors with sledges and hammers. Once the priest had got up to the altar and was beginning his mass, Michael MacCarthy, followed by others, leapt over the rails, and striking his fist on the altar he announced "Where is the person who will say mass" while cursing with a 'most violent and blasphemous language'. A woman intervened to stop Michael from beating the priest with his stick. Thomas Sugrue was further back in the church with a crook in his hand, with which he lashed out to strike the back of one of the priests men, although missing him, and he was blocking the door to prevent the priests clerk from coming in. The priest, in fear for his life, ran away, there being more than a hundred people assembled against him. The only people accepting of the priest, who had come to take part in the mass, numbered around 7 or 8 persons. Once the priest had fled the men nailed the chapel up again. One of the women present, Ellen Callaghan, it was her father who the new priest resided with and the hatchet to break down the doors was her fathers. The villagers were in court declared to be a lawless mob. The new priest declared that if they would now regret their 'senseless and foolish conduct' he would forgive them. And that they should permit him to perform his duties for the next six months and if at the end of that time they still did not approve he would give up the parish. This incident happened in the very year that the famine began, which would continue for seven years.
Both Bartholomew Sugrue and his older sister Ellen, her husband Patrick Reardon, and Catherine Sheehan, emigrated to Greenwich in London at around that time, many other people doing likewise to escape the potato blight which had begun ravaging Ireland. Bartholomew and Catherine would at meet one another in Greenwich, if they did not already know one another from Ireland, and they would in time fall in love and marry. In accordance to their Irish background these youngsters were quite used to living simply, on a diet of potatoes and not much else, and at least one of them had red hair, as this they would pass down to their descendants. In their new life in Greenwich, although they hoped for a better life, they were far from finding their utopia, bringing along the Irish habit to drink and to live dysfunctionally, as was again and again revealed in my researches. Bartholomew and Catherine never sought to return to Ireland, even in their hardest times to come. Maybe, as with the rioters, Bartholomew had got into trouble there.
Greenwich, the new home of my Irish ancestors, was a river side location, in the Kent southern area of greater London, known for its beautiful hill park, upon which famously the youth of the day loved to tumble down during the famed annual fayre, and for the grand hospital for old and wounded sailors, the old fellows of which made quite a colourful sight as they roamed about with various injuries and exotic stories to tell whosoever would listen.
Greenwich was not a place attracting many Irish immigrants, not compared to other parts of England, although there had been small numbers settling in Greenwich from long before the famine, as for instance, I've seen reference in one old newspaper, in 1841, in regard to an Irish woman, Mrs Moriarty, who was a local brothel madam, a keeper of a 'house of ill fame' on Roan Street. I have been to Roan Street and it looks so tame, quiet and inconsequential now. Quite wild in those days though. So why did my ancestors choose such a lesser known location? Well, it does appear that a couple of other Sugrue family members were already in Greenwich from at least as far back as 1833, who may have been relatives from whom to get help from in finding work and a place to live. It's even possible that Bartholomew had already been visiting England on and off for some years anyway, to do seasonal work with the elders of his family, hop picking being one regular autumnal employment of the sometimes visiting Irish. It is even for sure that a generation further on, as told by my own elders, this was a regular pursuit for at least his son Thomas's family.
Patrick William Reardon, the husband of Ellen, Bartholomew's sister, would as a close friend be best man at Bartholomew's first wedding, which was not as yet to Catherine, but to another Irish lady Ellen Sullivan, also of County Kerry. Patrick was four years older than Bartholomew, and was from the seaside town of Waterville, also in County Kerry. In Greenwich, both families would always live close to one another, even down to Bartholomew and Patrick both ending up in the Greenwich workhouse in the last years of their lives. As far as locations go, another Greenwich dwelling friend of the family, Mary Kane, was from Castleisland (also near to Tralee), this being the closest place I can come up with as yet for Catherine Sheehan's own place of origin, as indeed there was a presence of Sheehan's there. Castleisland village, surrounded by bogs and hills, was another special location, having been built atop a vast cave system, Crag Cave, within which were some underground waters known as the Green Lake.
Bartholomew's work in Greenwich was always to be humble labouring and specifically he was engaged in building work. And I have seen in the newspapers that there was much frustration in England at this time in regard to Irish labourers, summed up here in a chronicle of 1846:
'Look to England: who among our neighbours are the most ignorant and wretched - uncleanly in their habits, homes and rags - poor in their fare? All who know our towns will answer, the Irish - the Roman Catholic Irish. They, by their habits, degrade the morals and the manners, and lessen the wages of our labourers; yet they have lived among us for generations, and they have lived unimproved; they do not raise to our level - they sink us to their own... You cannot get at their minds - their minds are sealed up from you, from all contact with you - their mind is in thraldom to the priest.'
Patrick William Reardon, the husband of Ellen, Bartholomew's sister, would as a close friend be best man at Bartholomew's first wedding, which was not as yet to Catherine, but to another Irish lady Ellen Sullivan, also of County Kerry. Patrick was four years older than Bartholomew, and was from the seaside town of Waterville, also in County Kerry. In Greenwich, both families would always live close to one another, even down to Bartholomew and Patrick both ending up in the Greenwich workhouse in the last years of their lives. As far as locations go, another Greenwich dwelling friend of the family, Mary Kane, was from Castleisland (also near to Tralee), this being the closest place I can come up with as yet for Catherine Sheehan's own place of origin, as indeed there was a presence of Sheehan's there. Castleisland village, surrounded by bogs and hills, was another special location, having been built atop a vast cave system, Crag Cave, within which were some underground waters known as the Green Lake.
Bartholomew's work in Greenwich was always to be humble labouring and specifically he was engaged in building work. And I have seen in the newspapers that there was much frustration in England at this time in regard to Irish labourers, summed up here in a chronicle of 1846:
'Look to England: who among our neighbours are the most ignorant and wretched - uncleanly in their habits, homes and rags - poor in their fare? All who know our towns will answer, the Irish - the Roman Catholic Irish. They, by their habits, degrade the morals and the manners, and lessen the wages of our labourers; yet they have lived among us for generations, and they have lived unimproved; they do not raise to our level - they sink us to their own... You cannot get at their minds - their minds are sealed up from you, from all contact with you - their mind is in thraldom to the priest.'
There was also in Greenwich at this time another Sugrue man, James Sugrue, married to Mary Ann Balston, and starting a family, their son Charles John Sugrue having been baptised in the summer of 1846, a daughter Mary Ann back in 1844, and would have Mary Ellen in 1849. Were they related? This I need to look into. and another Sugrue was a John married to a Susan Ann, who had a daughter, Mary, back in 1833.
Having arrived in England at around the age of 20 Bartholomew's first beloved was Ellen Sullivan, who was older than him by 11 years, the daughter of John and Ellen Sullivan. Ellen had lived far longer in Greenwich and had found herself a position as a live in servant in a well to do household. Back at the age of 27, she had been listed as being a pauper female servant in the Greenwich workhouse, maybe due to being pregnant with an illegitimate child, as would more likely have been the reason for a servant resorting to the workhouse. A child in her care could also signify how it was that Ellen being already 32 had not previously found herself a husband. It was her best friend, Mary Healey, also Irish, who likely introduced the future lovers, as Mary was Bartholomew's neighbour, like him living at Union Court on East Street. Both ladies were considerably older than Bartholomew, who was but a youngster, they being as much as 35 years in age. Mary Healey was a widow with three sons, whom she supported by selling fruits in the streets. It appears that these ladies had settled in Greenwich before the potato famine, long knowing one another. Ellen Sullivan was in the same friendship circles, having become a godmother to Patrick and Ellen Rearden's first child, Helen (Ellen), three months before she and Bartholomew married.
So we can see Bartholomew's situation at the time of his marriage, which was in the summer of 1846, that he had a bunch of Irish friends of differing ages, did labouring work to support himself, and was for now living at Union Court, which was part of a warren of buildings to be found off East Street (now Eastney Street). He and Ellen married on the 10th of June 1846 at Greenwich's Roman Catholic chapel, in Clark's Buildings, on East Street, close to where Bartholomew lived, this being the only religious place at that time in Greenwich to serve the Irish community.
The Roman chapel in Clark's Buildings, which was the focal point of our Irish families spiritual life, had been privately owned since 1793, its original purpose being to service mostly old Irish sailors from the Greenwich Hospital. The Greenwich hospital had 500 pensioners at this time, almost all with wounds, who attended the chapel even though it only had space with ease for 100 people. Only for a further five years, after Thomas's and Ellen's marriage, would the chapel continue as a focus for the Roman Catholic community, after which there was access to a properly built Roman Catholic church in Greenwich, named Our Lady Star of the Sea. A report on the Clarks Buildings chapel in 1849, says that:
'the present catholic chapel is so miserable in its structure and locality that it threatens almost to bury the congregation without an undertaker.' It 'frequently happened, that in the most unpropitious weather the lanes and avenues of the chapel are filled with worshippers kneeling on the ground'.
'the present catholic chapel is so miserable in its structure and locality that it threatens almost to bury the congregation without an undertaker.' It 'frequently happened, that in the most unpropitious weather the lanes and avenues of the chapel are filled with worshippers kneeling on the ground'.
Marriage certificate details:
1846 10th June in the Roman Catholic Chapel, Clark's Buildings, Greenwich
Bartholomew Sugrue, of full age (21), bachelor, labourer, residing at Union Court, East Street, Greenwich, son of Thomas Sugrue a labourer
Ellen Sullivan, of full age (32), spinster, live in servant at Thomas Hitchens, Maze Hill, daughter of John Sullivan a labourer
Bartholomew signed his name and Ellen did the mark of the cross
Married by the rites and ceremonies of the Roman Catholic Church by Rector the Catholic Priest, Arthur Walter, registrar
In the presence of Patrick Reardon (signed his name) and Mary Healey (made the mark of the cross)
1846 10th June in the Roman Catholic Chapel, Clark's Buildings, Greenwich
Bartholomew Sugrue, of full age (21), bachelor, labourer, residing at Union Court, East Street, Greenwich, son of Thomas Sugrue a labourer
Ellen Sullivan, of full age (32), spinster, live in servant at Thomas Hitchens, Maze Hill, daughter of John Sullivan a labourer
Bartholomew signed his name and Ellen did the mark of the cross
Married by the rites and ceremonies of the Roman Catholic Church by Rector the Catholic Priest, Arthur Walter, registrar
In the presence of Patrick Reardon (signed his name) and Mary Healey (made the mark of the cross)
It is the listed witnesses to the marriage of Bartholomew and Ellen that reveal who at that time were their best friends, whom I have already written of, fellow Irish settlers, Patrick Rearden (Bartholomew's brother in law) and Mary Healey (Ellen's friend, who was Bartholomew's neighbour).
In looking more at the other witness, Mary Healey, I have seen in the newspapers, and this is fast forwarding eight years to 1854, that Mary was described as a 'disorderly lady'. She and another friend, a Mary Ann, had taken home at night a drunken American sailor, John Drysdale, of the ship Poultney moored up in the Victoria dock, and had helped themselves to his money. It is so that the Irish settlers were often in trouble for drunken behaviour and petty crimes. Huge mobs of hundreds of people would form around fighting Irishmen. The Irish kept to themselves, not so many of them integrating, much as British ex pats abroad do today.
The Roman Catholic version of Bartholomew's and Ellen's marriage record gives more detail than the official certificate, on account of it giving the names and locations of the couples parents, which is how I at last came to know the names of their mothers, Ellen Sullivans parents being John and Ellen Sullivan of County Kerry, and Bartholomew's parents being Thomas Sugrue (I'd already known he had Thomas as a father) and Joanna, which I had not known, they both being of County Kerry.
Bartholomew and Ellen made their new home at 5 Skelton Street, in view of St Alphege church (between Roan Street and Church Street), this being the road on which was the Mitre pub. We can guess that Bartholomew and his friends were already frequenting this and other beer houses, for this being a habit of his made mention of in the future, his so called 'intemperance'. Local prostitutes were sometimes coming onto Skelton Street. At numbers 1 and 2 Skelton Street was John Dowson's warehouse of beds, bedding and feathers, all the produce manufactured on the premises. There was also a vetinary surgeon, John Green, on Skelton Street, who was shoeing horses.
It took a long while for me to discover a child was born of this union, as no legal registering was ever done by Bartholomew. Eventually though I found this Roman Catholic baptism of a daughter called Anna, born 8th March 1847 and baptised two days later. Another Irish settler, Margaret Gallachan, was godmother to the new baby.
Three years into Bartholomew and Ellen's marriage, in the summer of 1849, Ellen came down with Asiatic cholera, and on only the second day of suffering this she died. She was aged 35 and she'd had just one child with Bartholomew. Whether the baby was affected too by the cholera I do not know as yet. This cholera outbreak in England had begun in the previous year, having spread from the Ganges delta in India. There was still confusion at this time in history about what actually was causing the illness. It was not until 1854, five years after Ellen's death, that John Snow discovered contaminated drinking water to be the cause. For 36 hours Ellen struggled with the illness before dying and Bartholomew was present at her death.
Death certificate information concerning the death of Ellen Sugrue:
Death August 14th 1849 of Ellen Sugrue, 5 Skelton Street, age 35 years -
wife of Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer
cause of death is asiatic cholera, 36 hours, certified
informant B Sugrue, present at the death, 5 Skelton Street, Greenwich
registered 15th August
Death August 14th 1849 of Ellen Sugrue, 5 Skelton Street, age 35 years -
wife of Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer
cause of death is asiatic cholera, 36 hours, certified
informant B Sugrue, present at the death, 5 Skelton Street, Greenwich
registered 15th August
In that very week 80 people from Greenwich died from the same illness. The cholera epidemic was much in the papers, being the 'talk of the town'. 'It is terrible in its destruction in Greenwich, where it has broken out with extraordinary violence', said the papers. Just earlier in the month most deaths reported from cholera in the Greenwich district were on board the Dreadnought hospital ship moored in the Thames, onto which sick visitors on arriving ships were transferred. But one can see how very quickly this began to affect the mainland residents too. One effect of the epidemic, it was noted, was an enormous increase in the sales of brandy, which the people used, along with opium, to try and counteract the illness. If Bartholomew had not been much of a drinker up till now, he now had reason to change course.
Within the year Bartholomew was romancing another Irish girl, a younger one this time, of his own age, and so it was that in the following summer that Bartholomew married my ancestress, Catherine Sheehan, he aged 26 and she 25, she being from his own part of Ireland in County Kerry. Before marriage they were already living together at 8 Clarks Buildings, on East Street, the same place in which was located the Roman Catholic chapel, in which they married on the 24th of July 1850.
Marriage certificate details:
24th July 1850 in the Roman Catholic Chapel, Clark's Buildings, Greenwich
Bartholomew Sugrue, 26 years, widower, labourer, resident at 8 Clark's Buildings, son of Thomas Sugrue a labourer
Catherine Sheehan, 25 years, spinster, also resident at 8 Clark's Buildings, daughter of James Sheehan a shoemaker
married in the Roman Catholic Chapel aforesaid to the rites and ceremonies of the Roman Catholic Church by me, Canon R North - Arthur Wallis registrar
signed by Bartholomew Sugrue, Catherine Sheehan making the sign of the cross
Witnesses are Michael Mc Donald (mark of cross) and Bridget Sheehan (signed her name)
24th July 1850 in the Roman Catholic Chapel, Clark's Buildings, Greenwich
Bartholomew Sugrue, 26 years, widower, labourer, resident at 8 Clark's Buildings, son of Thomas Sugrue a labourer
Catherine Sheehan, 25 years, spinster, also resident at 8 Clark's Buildings, daughter of James Sheehan a shoemaker
married in the Roman Catholic Chapel aforesaid to the rites and ceremonies of the Roman Catholic Church by me, Canon R North - Arthur Wallis registrar
signed by Bartholomew Sugrue, Catherine Sheehan making the sign of the cross
Witnesses are Michael Mc Donald (mark of cross) and Bridget Sheehan (signed her name)
The witnesses this time were another of Bartholomew's friends, Michael McDonald (and I can't really find anything out about him, accept that maybe he was an Irish soldier who had served in India), and Bridget Sheehan who may have been a cousin of Catherine's. Bridget Sheehan can be seen to have married but five days later to her own beloved, Michael Welch (who earlier in the summer was, along with a bunch of others, caught stealing handkerchiefs from visitors to the Greenwich fair). In the registration Bridget's father is written to be John Sheehan, a butcher, and it was her sister Ellen Sheehan who signed as one of the witnesses. Three years later, in 1853, that sister, Ellen Sheehan, married Thomas Pembroke, again the father being written as John Sheehan, a butcher.
Cholera was still a great threat, being excessively close, as much as in the same residences, a baby girl, Ann Dunn, being noted to die from cholera in Clark's Buildings in the week after Bartholomew and Catherine's marriage. Ann Dunn, the daughter of a labourer, had been ill for six days before succumbing to the cholera, it now being called English cholera rather than Asiatic cholera.
The first census we see either Bartholomew or Catherine recorded in was as a young married couple in 1851, before they had any children, still living at 8 Clarks Buildings. Catherine would have been pregnant at this time as soon would be born a first child for the couple, to be called Mary. Bartholomew's sister Ellen and her husband Patrick Reardon were living at 2 John Street Cottages with their young daughters Ellen, Maria, and Mary Ann. Bartholomew's fruit selling friend, Mary Healey, was living at East Street with her three sons Patrick, Mitchel, and Thomas, all born in Ireland and the lads working in plastering and in gardening.
Census information:
1851 Greenwich
8 Clark's Buildings
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 26, labourer, born Ireland
Catherine Sugrue, wife, age 25, born Ireland
1851 Greenwich
8 Clark's Buildings
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 26, labourer, born Ireland
Catherine Sugrue, wife, age 25, born Ireland
I have found a description of 8 Clarks Buildings at this time. Bartholomew and Catherine shared the house with six other families, it being sub-let to them all by a Mr Farley. Occupations of the inhabitants were silk weavers, charwomen, labourers and a tailoress. Two of the other families were also Irish, like the Sugrue's. The property had 8 bedrooms, an entrance hall with portico entrance, two very large parlours, kitchen, pantry, scullery, wash house, two large cellars, store closet, etc, with a flower garden in front enclosed with a brick wall and iron palisading, and in the rear a large yard and privy. So it can be seen the families would have their own private room and otherwise would share kitchen facilities and all else with the co-tenants, including an outside toilet in the back yard.
In late 1851 little Mary was born to the Sugrue family, and in 1853 another daughter was born, named Hannah. Their births were not legally registered with the authorities, but with the grand new Roman Catholic church having now been built in Greenwich, Our Lady Star of the Sea, I have at least found a baptism for Hannah.
The year 1853 was known for another cholera outbreak in Greenwich at East Street, the very area where Bartholomew and Hannah lived. In Union Court (Bartholomew's original residence), just off East Street, four children died of cholera in the October of that year and many people around East Street were said to be dangerously ill with the malady. This would no doubt have put Bartholomew into an anxious state, his first wife having died of the disease, and his daughters being so young. And yet both children and their mother survived. One newspaper, the West Kent Guardian, which reported the cholera outbreak, went on to talk of the area and of how it abounds with 'nuisances of the most offensive description - dust heaps, pig styes, etc, which should have been removed or remedied long ere this.'
When Patrick and Ellen Reardon baptised their latest daughter, Catherine, in 1855, it was Bartholomew's wife Catherine who was appointed her godmother. Maybe they'd even named their little girl after her.
The Irish immigrant influx into England, mostly as refugees on account of the horrific potato famine, continued to be a source of both fear and annoyance to many people who believed Britain was being overrun. In 1853 such opinions were openly written of in one newspaper, the Bell's Weekly Messenger: 'We have among us hundreds and thousands of recently imported Roman Catholic Irish peasantry... swarming throughout England, and displacing it's honest, loyal and orderly working population... It is impossible to describe the intensity of the hatred of the Irish against England, even at the very time when Englishmen are showering benefits on the "filthy and felonious population of Ireland" as the Times aptly terms them... even at a time when every English family is supporting an Irishman, either in our workhouses, our hospitals, or our prisons; when the whole country swarms with Irish beggars, who reap a rich harvest in English benevolence; when the streets of our metropolis and great towns team with Irish prostitutes, Irish thieves and Irish drunkards; when 70% of crime in England is to be assigned to the Irish born and Irish bred Roman Catholic populations in this country.'
It was while visiting the Kew Record Office in London the I was pleased to at last find a record of Bartholomew and Catherine's son Thomas Sugrues birth, by way of his baptism (and all their other children's baptisms at the same time), most valuable considering that they'd never officially registered their children's births, despite this being the law. Thomas's baptism was in 1854 at the Roman Catholic church of Our Lady of the Sea, his birthday recorded (a good find) as being on 24th February (making him an Aries), the baptism having been on 26th March. His godparents were Michael and Maria MacDonnell. It can be seen that he was named after his paternal grandfather back in County Kerry. In the previous year there had been born on 10th January 1853 (a Capricorn) a daughter Joanna, named after granny Joanna, Thomas's wife. She was baptised on 13th February, with Richard Sullivan and Catherine Derow as her godparents.
In 1855 there was born and baptised James Sugrue, in Latin his name being Jacobus, born 16th June (a Gemini) and baptised on the 22nd July. His godparents were Daniel Murphy and Eleanor Shean. He was named after Catherine's father, the shoemaker of County Kerry. Eleanor Shean was a mother living with her various children at 1 Howiss Buildings, who originated from Cork. Of Daniel Murphy's there were a few, too hard to pin down.
in 1856, it was said that the 'privies' of Clark's Buildings, including specifically the outside toilet of the Roman Catholic Chapel, were said to be 'offensive', as declared by the inspector of nuisances. An order was made to the Reverend North that he drain the chapel cesspool, this being but a few feet from the premises, the sewerage of which was creating the said nuisance.
Twin boys Bartholomew (named after his father) and Daniel were born into the family on 19th December 1856 (Sagittarius's), baptised together on 8th February 1857, having different godparents, Richard London and Maria Ward for Bartholomew, and Garrett London and Anna Barry for Daniel. Back in 1851 Garret London had been in the census referred to as Garret Barry, a man of two names. Maybe this was for the sake of respectability, seeing as at the time of that census he was living in sin with fellow godparent, Anna Barry, at 1 Tanners Hill, with two little children David and baby Garrett;
The Sugrue's had another double baptism in 1860, on 29th January, of their daughter Catherine (named after her mother), born 13th November 1858 (a Scorpio), and John, born 20th January 1860 (a Capricorn). John's godparents were Richard and Catherine Collins née Bryan, and Catherines godparents were John and Mary Graney née Kane. Richard Collins and John Graney both worked with Bartholomew in the building trade as bricklayers labourers.
The Graney family, friends to the Sugrue's, were the aforementioned Mary Kane (from Castleisland) and her husband John Graney. Mary, as I have seen, would by 1881 be a widow, just about surviving as a hawker on the streets.
In the autumn of 1861 a son Edmund was born, on 15th September (a Virgo), baptised on 20th October, his godparents being James Quinn and Mary Scanlan.
Bartholomew Sugrue was himself invited to be a godfather in the winter of 1861, for eight days old William Joseph Graney, son of his friends John and Mary, the godmother being their relative, Joanna Graney.
By the time of the census of 1861 Bartholomew and Catherine lived at 4 London Court, off London Street, and had six children ranging in age from nine years old down to a baby of one. To Mary and Hannah had now been added Thomas, James, Catherine the younger and John, and Catherine was pregnant right at this time with their next child, who would be called Edmund. The twin boys, Bartholomew and Danial, had not survived, having died a few years earlier. There may have been another son Michael who didn't make it either (he being a twin to Edmund). To earn a little extra money the family had taken on a lodger, a 35 year old Irish widower named John McCarthy, and both he and Bartholomew worked, maybe together, as labourers. As for Patrick and Ellen Reardon, they were at 5 Atlas Street Court, with a growing family, with Ellen working as a laundress to get extra for their needs.
1861 Census information:
4 London Court, Greenwich
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 34, labourer, born Ireland
Catherine Sugrue, wife, age 32, born Ireland
children are Mary, 9; Hannah, 8; Thomas, 7; James, 6; Catherine, 2; and John, 1, all born in Greenwich
John Mc Carthy, lodger, widower, age 37, labourer, born Ireland
4 London Court, Greenwich
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 34, labourer, born Ireland
Catherine Sugrue, wife, age 32, born Ireland
children are Mary, 9; Hannah, 8; Thomas, 7; James, 6; Catherine, 2; and John, 1, all born in Greenwich
John Mc Carthy, lodger, widower, age 37, labourer, born Ireland
At the end of 1863 another child was born to Catherine and Bartholomew, a girl whom they gave the lovely name of Carmelita Jane. Sadly she would not survive for long, but what a super name they had chosen for her, Carmelita, which derives from Mount Carmel in the Holy Land, and means beautiful lush gardens, essentially the beauty of nature. I do wonder if the Surgue's were inspired by the lovely grand gardens of Greenwich. I even fancy that the Greenwich hill was nicknamed by them, and maybe others of the Irish community, as Mount Carmel, or so I imagine. Even the godmother chosen for Carmelita had an unusually colourful name, Congetta, a name referring specifically to the immaculate conception.
Congetta Springett, I have found her in 1851, London born and living in the Poplar area of London, she being a schoolmistress, and her husband Charles Springiett being a Welsh commercial clerk. They moved around a lot, as can be seen from the birth places of their daughters.
By the following year the Sugrue's lodger, John McCarthy, had moved on, having remarried to an Irish lady named Ellen Cahill.
1866 was a very bad year for the Sugrue family, an all time low, with more than one event to shock the public, some details of which reached the country's newspapers. And it was not just the Sugrue's that had a tough year, for earlier on, before even anything else untoward happened, Bartholomew's sister, Ellen Reardon, had at the age of 45 died. Something for Bartholomew and Patrick, both having now lost a wife, to drown sorrows together over.
At this time the Sugrue's were living in Garrett's Court which was made up of six brick built cottages to the rear of a shop at 25 Church Street, the shop being next to the Dover Castle pub.
The first tough event for our own family was that Catherine Sugrue, then aged 40, and her daughter, Hannah, aged 13, were prosecuted for stealing a purse from the cape shop of Eliza Young at 4 Bridge Street in Greenwich. Being found guilty in this they were both sent to prison.
Catherine and her daughter had visited the shop to buy a cape, and it was young Hannah who took the purse from the pocket of Eliza's dress, which she then handed to her mother once they were out on the street. As she did this, according to a witness, Catherine told her daughter 'not to split'. Having kept the money they disposed of the purse in a copper outside an empty house next to where they lived at Garrett Street. The amount of money was variously said to be between two and four pounds.
It was on July 5th of 1866 at Maidstone that Catherine and her daughter went to trial together and were found guilty of 'larceny from a person', for which Catherine, regardless of having young children to care for, was given 12 months hard labour in prison, and her daughter 14 days in prison, to be followed by four years in a reformatory school.
At this time the Sugrue's were living in Garrett's Court which was made up of six brick built cottages to the rear of a shop at 25 Church Street, the shop being next to the Dover Castle pub.
The first tough event for our own family was that Catherine Sugrue, then aged 40, and her daughter, Hannah, aged 13, were prosecuted for stealing a purse from the cape shop of Eliza Young at 4 Bridge Street in Greenwich. Being found guilty in this they were both sent to prison.
Catherine and her daughter had visited the shop to buy a cape, and it was young Hannah who took the purse from the pocket of Eliza's dress, which she then handed to her mother once they were out on the street. As she did this, according to a witness, Catherine told her daughter 'not to split'. Having kept the money they disposed of the purse in a copper outside an empty house next to where they lived at Garrett Street. The amount of money was variously said to be between two and four pounds.
It was on July 5th of 1866 at Maidstone that Catherine and her daughter went to trial together and were found guilty of 'larceny from a person', for which Catherine, regardless of having young children to care for, was given 12 months hard labour in prison, and her daughter 14 days in prison, to be followed by four years in a reformatory school.
Reformatories, also known as reform schools, were equivalent to the adult prisons, set up for children who had committed crimes. They were unpleasant places, very strict and with no freedom, although as some compensation for this children would be taught a trade to get a good start in life once they had left.
Without their mother to care for them, and Bartholomew's habit to be out on the streets drunk, the Sugrue children got into a bad and neglected way, and one of the boys, 6 year old Edmund, was removed in a very sick state to the workhouse by a relieving officer. Edmund died from pneumonia in but a few days, despite the attempts of the workhouse to save him, after which Bartholomew was prosecuted for manslaughter. The jury cleared him, as his son had really succumbed to illness, but all at least partially blamed Bartholomew for contributing to his demise due to lack of adequate care. The whole of Britain was horrified by this tale, related in newspapers in the length and breadth of the land. The children were taken away from Bartholomew and put in the Greenwich workhouse, though after a while he was permitted to go and get them back.
From the inquiry that was made and reported in the papers, not only those shown above, but many more, and some even more detailed, we discover more about the family and the situation.
The incident happened six weeks after Catherine and her daughter were imprisoned.
Bartholomew had regular work for which he would get paid around 24 shillings a week, which included doing extra work overtime. He had long been working as a builders labourer, employed by a Mr Pound.
So it's not that the family didn't have at least some money to live on, though a portion of it would have been used to fuel Bartholomew's habit to drink. As it was said, 'the father was given to habits of intemperance', or more bluntly in one report, that he was 'a drunkard'. It was a neighbour, Martha Carter, who pointed out that not only Bartholomew, but Catherine too, was 'given to drink'. Bartholomew admitted himself that he was 'given to take too much to drink' and that since his wife had been in prison he had been drinking more than usual.
There were four children at home still, the older daughter, Mary, being employed as a live-in servant girl for a local shopkeeper, Mr Willis. Mr Willis had his shop at Straightsmouth, and he was the man Bartholomew would go to to buy provisions for the family, spending around 8 or 9 shillings there every week. In the week of Edmund's demise, after paying for what he owed at work, Bartholomew had only 8 shillings in earnings, which he then had to pay most of to Mr Willis at the local shop, and then being in need of more money Mr Willis lent him a further four shillings. Mr Willis knew Bartholomew well and not only told him he should stop his drink habit, but was concerned when Edmund became ill, telling Bartholomew he should get some medical advice for his son.
It was actually common anywhere for children to succumb to illness and die, and doctors were not in general turned to for their expense. Bartholomew likely trusted that Edmund, who had pleurisy, would pull through.
Edmund was young to be separated from his mother and was missing her, so much so that when the neighbour, Martha Carter, kindly gave him treats of food he would throw them away. In his refusing to eat, Edmund, lost his strength and became all the more vulnerable to illness.
Bartholomew did actually take the advice of Mr Willis in the end, as well as listening to the concerns of his neighbours, in calling for the aid of the relieving officer. His delay in doing so was because he had waited a week for another person who was meant to be helping with the situation but had not turned up.
It was 11 o'clock in the morning of Saturday 21st July, when Bartholomew contacted the relieving officer, Mr Wates, asking for a doctor. Despite saying that his child was ill and that he did not expect him to live many hours, it was not until the early evening that a Mr Ryder was sent to Bartholomew's house. By this time Bartholomew, who had put the children to bed for the night, was not at home but was out drunk in the streets.
The house of the Sugrue family was at 5 Garretts Court, off Church Street, and was a two roomed house, with one room above the other. In the upper room Mr Wates found the children lying together, among whom was the sickly Edmund. Edmund was described as wearing only part of an old gown and as being 'emaciated, pulseless, dirty and infested with vermin'. Maybe this was headlice or body lice; maybe it was scabies, but what type is not specified . The children were sleeping altogether on bits of old carpet and covered with a cloth; as it was stated, they were 'nearly in a state of nudity'. Even this much would shock the British public.
With Bartholomew's wife in prison and his own drink habit all was destined to be sensationalised in the papers.
On seeing Edmund's condition, Mr Ryder gave young him a teaspoon of arrowroot, it taking six or seven attempts before he could get the boy to swallow it, at which point he decided to take him away to the workhouse. Before doing so, Mr Ryder first called at the local pub to fetch himself a half quatern of port wine, and while there encountered Bartholomew who came in off the streets in such a drunken state that he could scarcely stand. Mr Ryder knew Bartholomew and had seen him in such a way before, even one time at the court (maybe when Catherine and Hannah were being sentenced). Nor was this the first time that a relieving officer had been called on to help the family, this having happened more than once before, either when Bartholomew was ill or out of work.
Edmund, who was 'almost lifeless', was taken by cab to be checked over by the workhouse surgeon, Mr Sturton. The matron of the workhouse, Mrs Kilby, washed Edmund, though only with difficulty doing so, cleaning just one part of his body at a time. With all the attentions paid to Edmund over the next few days it was thought by Tuesday that he would survive, only for him to die on the following day, which was a Wednesday.
Somehow, maybe because of work clashing with potential visiting times, Bartholomew did not at any time visit his son in the workhouse; nor did anyone bother to find him and inform him as to what was going on, so that Edmund was already long dead and buried before Bartholomew found out his child's fate. Five days had passed since Edmund's death before, on calling at the workhouse on a Monday, Bartholomew was told the crushing news. Some of the jury in the court case, on hearing that Bartholomew had taken his own initiative to keep up with his sons progress, accused him of having no care for whether his child lived or died, accusing him of being more given to indulge in drink than to care for his family.
Bartholomew didn't help his own tarred reputation much, once in court, by claiming that his son, Edmund, was aged a mere two years and nine months, despite it being clear from the certificates of vaccination that his son was six years. Because of such deception Bartholomew was censored by both judge and jury for trying to mislead them, the coroner observing that he was pretending his son to be younger to cover up the fact that he looked barely even a year old, due to being so emaciated.
The coroner, Mr Curttar who led the inquiry, held at the Crown public house in Greenwich, was totally enraged with Bartholomew, stating that in the course of his lengthened experience he had 'never met with a more shocking case' and adding that although he did not agree with flogging, if it were sanctioned he would make an exception for this 'disgraceful' man. He ordered Bartholomew to be put into prison for one week, until the next hearing, under charge of neglect and accelerating Edmund's death. With not even one parent left now to look after them, the rest of the children were put in the workhouse.
The coroner maintained his conviction that the children had been shamefully neglected, though the charge of manslaughter was dropped and the cause of death summed up as being from natural causes. There was after all no outstanding proof from the post mortem, despite the accusations of it being so, that Edmund had died from starvation. Rather he had died from a genuine ailment, brought on by lung infection, known as pleurisy.
It was ten days after being cleared by the jury that Bartholomew brought his children back home from the Greenwich workhouse. Bartholomew's oldest son, Thomas, at that time aged 11, is my ancestor, who when he eventually left home totally hid away from such a scandalous past, by changing his surname from Sugrue to Seagrove. Thomas's fellow siblings who had been with him in the workhouse were James, age 9, John, age 7, and Catherine, age 5.
The incident happened six weeks after Catherine and her daughter were imprisoned.
Bartholomew had regular work for which he would get paid around 24 shillings a week, which included doing extra work overtime. He had long been working as a builders labourer, employed by a Mr Pound.
So it's not that the family didn't have at least some money to live on, though a portion of it would have been used to fuel Bartholomew's habit to drink. As it was said, 'the father was given to habits of intemperance', or more bluntly in one report, that he was 'a drunkard'. It was a neighbour, Martha Carter, who pointed out that not only Bartholomew, but Catherine too, was 'given to drink'. Bartholomew admitted himself that he was 'given to take too much to drink' and that since his wife had been in prison he had been drinking more than usual.
There were four children at home still, the older daughter, Mary, being employed as a live-in servant girl for a local shopkeeper, Mr Willis. Mr Willis had his shop at Straightsmouth, and he was the man Bartholomew would go to to buy provisions for the family, spending around 8 or 9 shillings there every week. In the week of Edmund's demise, after paying for what he owed at work, Bartholomew had only 8 shillings in earnings, which he then had to pay most of to Mr Willis at the local shop, and then being in need of more money Mr Willis lent him a further four shillings. Mr Willis knew Bartholomew well and not only told him he should stop his drink habit, but was concerned when Edmund became ill, telling Bartholomew he should get some medical advice for his son.
It was actually common anywhere for children to succumb to illness and die, and doctors were not in general turned to for their expense. Bartholomew likely trusted that Edmund, who had pleurisy, would pull through.
Edmund was young to be separated from his mother and was missing her, so much so that when the neighbour, Martha Carter, kindly gave him treats of food he would throw them away. In his refusing to eat, Edmund, lost his strength and became all the more vulnerable to illness.
Bartholomew did actually take the advice of Mr Willis in the end, as well as listening to the concerns of his neighbours, in calling for the aid of the relieving officer. His delay in doing so was because he had waited a week for another person who was meant to be helping with the situation but had not turned up.
It was 11 o'clock in the morning of Saturday 21st July, when Bartholomew contacted the relieving officer, Mr Wates, asking for a doctor. Despite saying that his child was ill and that he did not expect him to live many hours, it was not until the early evening that a Mr Ryder was sent to Bartholomew's house. By this time Bartholomew, who had put the children to bed for the night, was not at home but was out drunk in the streets.
The house of the Sugrue family was at 5 Garretts Court, off Church Street, and was a two roomed house, with one room above the other. In the upper room Mr Wates found the children lying together, among whom was the sickly Edmund. Edmund was described as wearing only part of an old gown and as being 'emaciated, pulseless, dirty and infested with vermin'. Maybe this was headlice or body lice; maybe it was scabies, but what type is not specified . The children were sleeping altogether on bits of old carpet and covered with a cloth; as it was stated, they were 'nearly in a state of nudity'. Even this much would shock the British public.
With Bartholomew's wife in prison and his own drink habit all was destined to be sensationalised in the papers.
On seeing Edmund's condition, Mr Ryder gave young him a teaspoon of arrowroot, it taking six or seven attempts before he could get the boy to swallow it, at which point he decided to take him away to the workhouse. Before doing so, Mr Ryder first called at the local pub to fetch himself a half quatern of port wine, and while there encountered Bartholomew who came in off the streets in such a drunken state that he could scarcely stand. Mr Ryder knew Bartholomew and had seen him in such a way before, even one time at the court (maybe when Catherine and Hannah were being sentenced). Nor was this the first time that a relieving officer had been called on to help the family, this having happened more than once before, either when Bartholomew was ill or out of work.
Edmund, who was 'almost lifeless', was taken by cab to be checked over by the workhouse surgeon, Mr Sturton. The matron of the workhouse, Mrs Kilby, washed Edmund, though only with difficulty doing so, cleaning just one part of his body at a time. With all the attentions paid to Edmund over the next few days it was thought by Tuesday that he would survive, only for him to die on the following day, which was a Wednesday.
Somehow, maybe because of work clashing with potential visiting times, Bartholomew did not at any time visit his son in the workhouse; nor did anyone bother to find him and inform him as to what was going on, so that Edmund was already long dead and buried before Bartholomew found out his child's fate. Five days had passed since Edmund's death before, on calling at the workhouse on a Monday, Bartholomew was told the crushing news. Some of the jury in the court case, on hearing that Bartholomew had taken his own initiative to keep up with his sons progress, accused him of having no care for whether his child lived or died, accusing him of being more given to indulge in drink than to care for his family.
Bartholomew didn't help his own tarred reputation much, once in court, by claiming that his son, Edmund, was aged a mere two years and nine months, despite it being clear from the certificates of vaccination that his son was six years. Because of such deception Bartholomew was censored by both judge and jury for trying to mislead them, the coroner observing that he was pretending his son to be younger to cover up the fact that he looked barely even a year old, due to being so emaciated.
The coroner, Mr Curttar who led the inquiry, held at the Crown public house in Greenwich, was totally enraged with Bartholomew, stating that in the course of his lengthened experience he had 'never met with a more shocking case' and adding that although he did not agree with flogging, if it were sanctioned he would make an exception for this 'disgraceful' man. He ordered Bartholomew to be put into prison for one week, until the next hearing, under charge of neglect and accelerating Edmund's death. With not even one parent left now to look after them, the rest of the children were put in the workhouse.
The coroner maintained his conviction that the children had been shamefully neglected, though the charge of manslaughter was dropped and the cause of death summed up as being from natural causes. There was after all no outstanding proof from the post mortem, despite the accusations of it being so, that Edmund had died from starvation. Rather he had died from a genuine ailment, brought on by lung infection, known as pleurisy.
It was ten days after being cleared by the jury that Bartholomew brought his children back home from the Greenwich workhouse. Bartholomew's oldest son, Thomas, at that time aged 11, is my ancestor, who when he eventually left home totally hid away from such a scandalous past, by changing his surname from Sugrue to Seagrove. Thomas's fellow siblings who had been with him in the workhouse were James, age 9, John, age 7, and Catherine, age 5.
It was on Good Friday of 1868 that for the first time there was no yearly Easter fair in the Greenwich Park, it having been banished once and for all to halt the frequent pick pocketing usually to be found in the crowds. The police made sure that this year there were no booths or shows, so that although just as many visitors came as always had, there was no fair for them to enjoy.
Four years later, in 1870, the family was again in the newspaper, this time because their son James, now aged 12, was caught with stolen rope in Church Street, it being the property of the Telegraph Construction and Maintenance Company, which he said had been given to him by his friend John Sullivan, but for which both were in trouble. James was kept in remand until John could be found. Catherine, the mother, was free from prison now and back with her family, all of them now living at 7 Jubilee court.
The judge warned Catherine that in future she must take better care of her children so they stop getting into trouble. Having already been held in a cell for a day the boys were released without any further punishment.
Apparently, as was reported, but with no name given, one other son was at that time in prison, and I can only think that may be our Thomas, though can find no record of this.
The judge warned Catherine that in future she must take better care of her children so they stop getting into trouble. Having already been held in a cell for a day the boys were released without any further punishment.
Apparently, as was reported, but with no name given, one other son was at that time in prison, and I can only think that may be our Thomas, though can find no record of this.
Jubilee Court, otherwise known as Jubilee Place, where the Sugrue's lived for a while, was later described, that is in 1877, as among many courts and rents being unfit for human habitation, as was Mill Street in Deptford, where at some time in the future the family would also live.
By the time of the 1871 census the family had moved to 4, Ship and Billet Cottages on Marsh Lane, minus Thomas (who was possibly in prison), and there being no sign of where Hannah had got to since her reformatory school incarceration. The cottages were in a rough condition and were basically being squatted in rent free. |
1871 Census Information - Greenwich - 4 Ship and Billet Cottages, Marsh Lane - Bartholomew Sugrue, age 47, labourer, and Catherine his wife, age 45 - both born in Ireland, and their children, Mary, 19, James, 14, Catherine, 12 and John, 10 - all born in Greenwich
As for Bartholomew's friend, Patrick Reardon, now a widower and a single father, he was out of employment and living at 4 Green Lane.
In total there were six Ship and Billet cottages, the Sugrues living at number 4, a small collection of homes around the Ship and Billet Inn, located on the peninsular of the Greenwich marsh, which was partly industrial and partly of market gardening. This area was of Irish people, a small colony of immigrants who had lived long enough in Greenwich for all their children to have been born locally. The work of the Irishmen here, being typically unskilled, as was Bartholomew, was to work in either the factories, building sites or the market gardens. By nature of such work, sometimes unreliable, there would be times when there was no employment. Therefore these people were poor and sometimes had to resort to the workhouse. As a builders labourer Bartholomew's work was likely to have not only included building, but also digging trenches and excavating.
There is quite some story to be unravelled about Bartholomew's and his Irish neighbours time living at the Ship and Billet cottages. A year before, in 1970, the pub and cottages had been put up for sale, by which an understanding of the site is to be found. The Ship and Billet, which was opposite the Greenwich workhouse, was a large pub which had in its day been a well known wine and spirit establishment with its own pleasure ground, stabling and coach house, set in a highly populated working class neighbourhood. Though the pub had for a long time shut up and abandoned, it was in this very year bought by the Hatfield Trust, who to this very day still own it. The new landlord, Mr Bruce Alfred Wallis, endeavoured to return the pub's good name, selling wines, spirits and malt liquours. But as for the condition of the cottages beside it, they remained in a dilapidated state. Their condition was so bad that by 1871 the Board of Works had intervened, demanding that the residents of the cottages clean the houses and put them into a proper state of repair. The inhabitants, being impoverished, were not at all in a position to comply with such demands. It is in relation to this situation that our Bartholomew again gets a mention in the papers, the Kentish Mercury, at the end of April 1871.
Board of Works summonses:
"On Thursday, 27th April, several occupiers of the houses in Ship and Billet Lane were summoned to appear at the police court to show why they had not complied with an order served upon them by the District Board of Works to repair those premises. Only two put in an appearance, Bridget Griffin and Bartholomew Sugrue."
Bridget, on her part, said she was not capable of complying with the terms. When Mr Walker, the original proprietor left the pub, this being a long time back, there had been no one to oversee the cottages anymore, so that all there were staying rent free. Naturally this was a godsend to her. The cottages were not even in a good enough state to be rented to anyone, they all being entirely unfit for human habitation. The stairs and closets were broken and the walls black. The buildings were a grave concern under the Dangerous Structures Act. In the case of Bartholomew Sugrue, who it was also clear lived there rent free, the magistrate said he must be regarded as a squatter. One of the other cottages, in which was an Irish widow named Mary Davis, had not any flooring to the lower rooms. She claimed to have paid a carpenter to do the work on this, only for him to have walked off with her money.
The magistrate declared that every resident not repairing their cottage, must in default vacate their home. Hatfields Charities, although understood to be the overall owners were not obliged to do anything to help with this.
"On Thursday, 27th April, several occupiers of the houses in Ship and Billet Lane were summoned to appear at the police court to show why they had not complied with an order served upon them by the District Board of Works to repair those premises. Only two put in an appearance, Bridget Griffin and Bartholomew Sugrue."
Bridget, on her part, said she was not capable of complying with the terms. When Mr Walker, the original proprietor left the pub, this being a long time back, there had been no one to oversee the cottages anymore, so that all there were staying rent free. Naturally this was a godsend to her. The cottages were not even in a good enough state to be rented to anyone, they all being entirely unfit for human habitation. The stairs and closets were broken and the walls black. The buildings were a grave concern under the Dangerous Structures Act. In the case of Bartholomew Sugrue, who it was also clear lived there rent free, the magistrate said he must be regarded as a squatter. One of the other cottages, in which was an Irish widow named Mary Davis, had not any flooring to the lower rooms. She claimed to have paid a carpenter to do the work on this, only for him to have walked off with her money.
The magistrate declared that every resident not repairing their cottage, must in default vacate their home. Hatfields Charities, although understood to be the overall owners were not obliged to do anything to help with this.
Unable to come up with money for house renovations, the inhabitants did not obediently depart their homes. Rather they dug in their heels and refused to be moved, and this we know because a further newspaper article in June of the same year mentions again the cottages of the Ship and Billet, saying that even after legal proceedings had been taken and several visits made to the police court, the magistrate was powerless when it came to turning out the residents.
I have made notes of who those squatters of the six Ship and Billet cottages were in 1871. They were all Irish, and the men had the same line of work as Bartholomew, they all being bricklayers labourers:
Cottage number 1 was empty.
Cottage number 2: Mary Davis, widow, age 50, born County Cork, Ireland
Cottage number 3: Bridget Griffin, age 43, married, gardener, born Tipperary, Ireland, and her daughters Mary, 10, and Margaret, 8, both born in Greenwich
Cottage number 4: this was Bartholomew Sugrue, age 47, labourer, born Ireland, and his wife Catherine, age 45, born Ireland, and their Greenwich born children - Mary, 19, James, 14, Catherine, 12, and John, 10
Cottage number 5: Daniel Reardon, age 55, bricklayers labourer, born Ireland, and his wife Bridget, age 54, born Ireland, and their children - Daniel, 17, and Margaret, 13
Cottage number 6: John Murray, age 30, bricklayer, born County Cork, and his wife Bridget, age 32, born County Kerry, and their Greenwich born children - John, 7, Thomas, 5, Mary, 3, and Timothy, 9 months
Cottage number 1 was empty.
Cottage number 2: Mary Davis, widow, age 50, born County Cork, Ireland
Cottage number 3: Bridget Griffin, age 43, married, gardener, born Tipperary, Ireland, and her daughters Mary, 10, and Margaret, 8, both born in Greenwich
Cottage number 4: this was Bartholomew Sugrue, age 47, labourer, born Ireland, and his wife Catherine, age 45, born Ireland, and their Greenwich born children - Mary, 19, James, 14, Catherine, 12, and John, 10
Cottage number 5: Daniel Reardon, age 55, bricklayers labourer, born Ireland, and his wife Bridget, age 54, born Ireland, and their children - Daniel, 17, and Margaret, 13
Cottage number 6: John Murray, age 30, bricklayer, born County Cork, and his wife Bridget, age 32, born County Kerry, and their Greenwich born children - John, 7, Thomas, 5, Mary, 3, and Timothy, 9 months
The original Greenwich marshes are now the location of the Greenwich dome, Marsh Lane is now Blackwall Lane, and the Ship and Billet pub still survives as the Duchess Bar.
On one more occasion, in 1872, the family was in the newspapers for stealing, this time the youngest daughter, Catherine, then 12 or 13, being caught taking coal from the riverside, for which she was detained in a cell. At the hearing it was not only stated that 'the child was quite destitute', but that her mother was desperate to not have another child taken away from her, a plea that was ignored. Catherine was sent away to the St Margarets Industrial School, at Mill Hill in Hendon, to remain there until the age of 16.
The school that young Catherine was sent to was especially for Roman Catholic girls, and was run by St Francis nuns. All the girls were said to have come from the lowest and most neglected Irish families of London, for which they had a reputation for being quite a handful. Originally called 'ragged schools', the industrial schools were not as strict and unpleasant as reformatories (like where Catherine's sister, Hannah, had been sent). Reformatories were places specifically for criminal children and were an alternative to having to be with adults in the prison system. Whereas an industrial school was a place where wayward or destitute children, thought to be heading towards a criminal career, could be guided into a better way of life.
And even for an industrial school, St Margaret's wasn't really such a bad place to be, being in a grand and beautiful building called Holcombe House, with it's own garden and chapel, in a very good location on Mill Hill. As was typical in such institutions the girls were trained to be future domestic servants, learning skills such as needlework, knitting and household management.
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The Sugrue family was now by repute one of the most dysfunctional in Greenwich. It is not so suprising, then, that son Thomas chose to change his surname as a young man, from Sugrue to Seagrove, his fiancée Maria not wanting to be associated publicly with such an infamous family, and maybe this be covering his own past if it were true that he had been in prison.
There followed many years now of Bartholomew Sugrue going in and out of the workhouse, by which he must have lost the ability to make a living, of sorts, in his community. This resorting to the workhouse began in the winter of 1877. The family was destitute, this was mentioned again and again in the workhouse records.
It may be that there was some method and reason to what Bartholomew now did. In exchange for temporary stints of hard labour in a workhouse in Poplar, which was where the Greenwich workhouse sent their able bodied men, a small amount of money could be earned and sent back to the family. This was an experiment in London, from 1871 to 1882, whereby capable paupers from different parts of London were sent to Poplar, the workhouse there deliberately designed to be unpleasant to deter people who were strong and able to work from coming for aid to the workhouse.
Repeatedly the Greenwich workhouse authorities sent Bartholomew to Poplar, where he would labour hard for a while to get his family nourished and to pay their rent or whatever else, before returning home.
The discipline in the Poplar workhouse was strict and only the most basic of diets was provided. It was not a place ever to really want to be in, other than for dire need. Sometimes the other workhouses used Poplar to offload their more troublesome and undesirable sorts, even if they were too old and unfit to really work, and with too much of this going on the system was abandoned. I guess that with his drinking habit and reputation Bartholomew was one of the types to offload. Either was Bartholomew was getting his wife and children some temporary small income, enough to get some needs met and some food into them.
It may be that there was some method and reason to what Bartholomew now did. In exchange for temporary stints of hard labour in a workhouse in Poplar, which was where the Greenwich workhouse sent their able bodied men, a small amount of money could be earned and sent back to the family. This was an experiment in London, from 1871 to 1882, whereby capable paupers from different parts of London were sent to Poplar, the workhouse there deliberately designed to be unpleasant to deter people who were strong and able to work from coming for aid to the workhouse.
Repeatedly the Greenwich workhouse authorities sent Bartholomew to Poplar, where he would labour hard for a while to get his family nourished and to pay their rent or whatever else, before returning home.
The discipline in the Poplar workhouse was strict and only the most basic of diets was provided. It was not a place ever to really want to be in, other than for dire need. Sometimes the other workhouses used Poplar to offload their more troublesome and undesirable sorts, even if they were too old and unfit to really work, and with too much of this going on the system was abandoned. I guess that with his drinking habit and reputation Bartholomew was one of the types to offload. Either was Bartholomew was getting his wife and children some temporary small income, enough to get some needs met and some food into them.
I have researched old newspapers for details about the Poplar workhouse which Bartholomew was so often been passed onto for hard labour with its strict discipline and its diet of merely bread and water. Some people in those days were saying that prison was preferable to landing up in that workhouse. There were two hard labour tasks at Poplar, indeed just what prisoners in jails were made to do, which was the breaking of rocks and the unpicking of oakum rope. Those who could not fulfill their daily quotas were not to clock off at five like the others, but had to carry on with even extra work added till eight, or else would be hauled before a magistrate to be punished with a short spell in prison.
One magistrate, who refused to imprison a lady who had not fulfilled her oakum quota, but rather was feeling pity for her, declared that such punitive degrading work was not right to be given to one who simply by misfortune had come seeking aid. The papers afterwards shamed that very magistrate for his weakness in sympathising with unruly paupers, for those who were part of the 'Poplar Test', which a board of guardians had decreed as an experiment to cut the numbers and costs for those formerly given extra out assistance in their own homes.
Of oakum unravelling, Oscar Wilde would write, 'We tore the tarry rope to shreds, with blunt and bleeding nails', his experience being in a prison, not a workhouse but ultimately not so different.
One magistrate, who refused to imprison a lady who had not fulfilled her oakum quota, but rather was feeling pity for her, declared that such punitive degrading work was not right to be given to one who simply by misfortune had come seeking aid. The papers afterwards shamed that very magistrate for his weakness in sympathising with unruly paupers, for those who were part of the 'Poplar Test', which a board of guardians had decreed as an experiment to cut the numbers and costs for those formerly given extra out assistance in their own homes.
Of oakum unravelling, Oscar Wilde would write, 'We tore the tarry rope to shreds, with blunt and bleeding nails', his experience being in a prison, not a workhouse but ultimately not so different.
It is by looking at the workhouse admission and discharge records that more information can be discovered about the Sugrue family. And remarkably, it was just in curiously checking out this Irish man's workhouse records, at a time when I did not even know he was my ancestor, that I found the, till then, missing link, which was a mention of his son, my great great grandfather Thomas Seagrove. Just by his son's address, with no name mentioned in that particular record, not even a first name, I understood. This was the father I had as yet never been able to find, the reason being not only because his children's births had not been registered, but because on Thomas's marriage details he had confused all by saying that his father was a fisherman called James Seagrove. He had effectively covered his past, almost. His fathers need and helplessness when older brought Thomas to his aid, and though he was vague in giving information to the authorities, it was enough.
Every record stated that Bartholomew Sugrue was destitute and was of the Roman Catholic religion. Sometimes next of kin was mentioned and places of habitation. In the first records Bartholomew, who was now aged 57, gave his address as Straitsmouth, a road leading to the church, where Mr Willis's provisions shop was. He was admitted into the Greenwich workhouse on December 4th 1877 and by the 6th was forwarded on to Poplar. He came home for Christmas with his family and on December 31st returned to the Greenwich workhouse. The next day, on January 1st, New Year's Day of 1878 he was sent again onwards to do hard labour at Poplar. This whole scene was repetitive, some time being at home, then going into the Greenwich workhouse and being sent from there to Poplar.
Every record stated that Bartholomew Sugrue was destitute and was of the Roman Catholic religion. Sometimes next of kin was mentioned and places of habitation. In the first records Bartholomew, who was now aged 57, gave his address as Straitsmouth, a road leading to the church, where Mr Willis's provisions shop was. He was admitted into the Greenwich workhouse on December 4th 1877 and by the 6th was forwarded on to Poplar. He came home for Christmas with his family and on December 31st returned to the Greenwich workhouse. The next day, on January 1st, New Year's Day of 1878 he was sent again onwards to do hard labour at Poplar. This whole scene was repetitive, some time being at home, then going into the Greenwich workhouse and being sent from there to Poplar.
1877
Admission to Greenwich workhouse on 4th December, sent to Poplar on the 6th December
Admission to Greenwich workhouse on 4th December, sent to Poplar on the 6th December
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 57, to Poplar, at half past 12, along with Frances Goldthorpe, age 54, and Mary Friday, age 45
1877 - 1878
Admission to Greenwich workhouse on 31st December 1877, sent to Poplar on January 1st 1878
Admission to Greenwich workhouse on 31st December 1877, sent to Poplar on January 1st 1878
Bartholomew Sugrue, labourer, Straits Mouth
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 57, of Greenwich, to Poplar
1878
Admission to Greenwich workhouse 18th February at 7.30pm,
Bartholomew Sugrue, labourer, wife is Catherine at Freaks of Mill Lane, Roman Catholic, for Poplar, age 57, P for residing in St Pauls Deptford district, admitted by the the board
Sent to Poplar 19th February at half past twelve
Admission to Greenwich workhouse 18th February at 7.30pm,
Bartholomew Sugrue, labourer, wife is Catherine at Freaks of Mill Lane, Roman Catholic, for Poplar, age 57, P for residing in St Pauls Deptford district, admitted by the the board
Sent to Poplar 19th February at half past twelve
In February of 1878 Bartholomew's next of kin was listed for the first time, being his wife Catherine, at which time they were living in a common lodging house known as Freaks on Mill Lane in Deptford, this being run by a locally born man a sawyer named Charles Sidney Freak. This road was a slum for the poorest of the poor, with its ramshackle cottages and common lodging houses, and shows just what a predicament the family had now fallen into. No longer were they renting their own home. No longer was Bartholomew holding down a steady job. Maybe unemployment was particularly bad at this time. Maybe his drinking habit was making him unreliable.
Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer, wife Catherine, Freaks at Mill Lane, for Poplar, Roman Catholic, age 57
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 57, of Deptford, to Poplar
Mill Lane was a most unhealthy place to live, with its many noxious smells filling the air, these being due to a glue works, a gas works, tar distilleries, breweries, and an artificial manure works, all in the area.
Mill Lane is now known as Brookmill Road (originally having had the more unusual name of Dog Kennel Row) and the lodging houses that filled the lane were demolished back in 1895.
Mill Lane is now known as Brookmill Road (originally having had the more unusual name of Dog Kennel Row) and the lodging houses that filled the lane were demolished back in 1895.
1878 Springtime
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 18th March, sent to Poplar 19th March, of Mill Lane
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 21st May, sent to Poplar 22nd May, of Mill Lane
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 18th March, sent to Poplar 19th March, of Mill Lane
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 21st May, sent to Poplar 22nd May, of Mill Lane
Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer, for Poplar
1878 Summer
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 4th July, sent to Poplar 8th July
Home address given as the Mitre on Mill Lane
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 4th July, sent to Poplar 8th July
Home address given as the Mitre on Mill Lane
Further addresses written of in workhouse records show that the family home was at the Mitre Inn, this being essentially a house retailing beer that doubled up as a lodging house. This was also on Mill Lane in Deptford, the landlady of which, at the time, was Mary Ann Haworth. For much of the year of 1878 this was where the Sugrues lived, or maybe more it should be said Catherine lived there alone, as Bartholomew was so often away in the workhouses.
Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer, for Poplar, wife Catherine, the Mitre, Mill Lane, Roman Catholic, age 58
1878 Autumn
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 16th September, sent to Polar 17th September
Again the home address is given as the Mitre, the pub on Mill Lane
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 16th September, sent to Polar 17th September
Again the home address is given as the Mitre, the pub on Mill Lane
Bartholomew Sugrue, labourer, wife, the Mitre, Mill Lane, for Poplar, Roman Catholic, age 58
1879
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 22nd January, sent to Poplar same day, address given as Pesters, still on Mill Lane
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 3rd July, sent to Polar 4th July, still at Pesters
Admission to Greenwich workhouse 18th August, sent to Poplar 19th August, still at Pesters
Admission to Greenwich workhouse 30th October, sent to Poplar 31st October, still at Pesters
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 22nd January, sent to Poplar same day, address given as Pesters, still on Mill Lane
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 3rd July, sent to Polar 4th July, still at Pesters
Admission to Greenwich workhouse 18th August, sent to Poplar 19th August, still at Pesters
Admission to Greenwich workhouse 30th October, sent to Poplar 31st October, still at Pesters
From 1879 the Sugrue family lived at Pester's, another lodging house for the poor, as before situated on Mill Lane, and there they remained for at least another two years. Pester's was where one of Jack the Ripper's victims, Catherine Eddowes, lived for a while, likely after their own time there though. Pester's was the lodging house of William Pester, a labourer from Epping Forest, and it can be seen from looking back at the 1871 census that the specific address was number 3 Mill Lane, Deptford.
Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer, wife, Pesters, Mill Lane, of St Pauls district, age 59
Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer, wife Catherine, Pesters, Mill Lane, for Poplar
It was on Christmas Day of 1879 that son Thomas, who had changed his surname from Sugrue to Seagrove, and worked as a fisherman, married in Greenwich his sweetheart Maria Harrison, confusing all ease of later genealogical research by lying in the marriage registration that his father was not a Bartholomew at all but instead was James Seagrove, a fisherman. A year later, on Boxing Day of 1880, daughter Catherine, back at last from Holcombe House, married in nearby Deptford her own lover, a general dealer named Joseph Read.
1879 25th December Marriage at Christ Church, Greenwich
Thomas Seagrove, full age, fisherman of Newcastle Street, son of James Seagrove, a fisherman Maria Harrison, full age, also of Newcastle Street, daughter of William Harrison, a fisherman Thomas signed the mark of the cross, whereas Maria signed her own name Witnesses are Philip Harrison (mark of the cross), who is Maria's brother and his wife Emily Harrison (who signs her own name) Marriage performed by D Reith |
1880 26th January Marriage at St Paul, Deptford Joseph Read, age 21, general dealer of 18 Charles Street, son of George Poland Read, a shoemaker Catherine Sugrue, age 21, also of 18 Charles Street, daughter of Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer Witnesses are William Frederick Ferris and Eliza Read |
Interestingly, I have acquired a photo of the Sugrue daughter Catherine as a young lady, this being the only likeness to any of this family at that time that I have accessed. I suspect her hair is red and observe that there is quite some beauty there. As was the way of the family in general, Catherine also had tragedy in her life. We have seen already that as a girl she was sent away to Holcombe House, an industrial school, for helping herself to some coal which was by the riverside. Catherine and her husband, Joseph Read, would both die young, Catherine dying in 1891, a year before her husband. Catherine suffered lead poisoning, this ultimately being the cause of her death. This was as a consequence of her work at Pontifex's Millwall Lead Works where she was paid between 12 and 14 shillings a week to extract the toxic lead. Many women were employed there and Catherine even described it as 'killing work'. She did the most dangerous work there, 'in the stoves', gathering the white lead carbonate from the boiled lead metal. Several other women working there also died from lead poisoning. |
Joseph Read, Catherine's husband, was in turn poisoned by the lead dust Catherine brought home on her clothes, as he did report when admitted to the lunatic asylum in October of 1888. He said there had been strange powder in his home and in his food, the latter leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Likely this lead contamination contributed to his insanity and 'suicidal melancholy' and even his 'being dangerous', as well as his eventual dropsy and heart attack.
Further, I have seen for Catherine, in 1890 that she was in the papers, accused of assaulting another woman:
"Assault - Catherine Read, 32, married, of Glenister Road, East Greenwich, assaulting Kate Pauliner, married, of 11 Queen Street, Greenwich. As the prosecutrix Kate did not appear and Catherine was discharged."
In 1891, the year of her death, Catherine had last been recorded in the census for that year as being alone with her two sons, this being at the time her husband was away in the asylum.
Catherine's husband also had some obsessive fear that those around him were thinking him to be Jack the Ripper, who had been at large on the streets of London in 1888, and being much wounded Joseph does appear to have been given a severe beating in regard to this while out on the streets. One speculation, though maybe far fetched, is that Catherine was attempting to poison her husband in the belief that he really had been out attacking prostitutes?
Anyway, such was the tragic life of Catherine the Younger, for whom nothing could have been easy since her troubled childhood, her father nationwide perceived as responsible for the death of one of his sons, a mother away for a year in prison, and herself having been convicted and sent away from home.
Further, I have seen for Catherine, in 1890 that she was in the papers, accused of assaulting another woman:
"Assault - Catherine Read, 32, married, of Glenister Road, East Greenwich, assaulting Kate Pauliner, married, of 11 Queen Street, Greenwich. As the prosecutrix Kate did not appear and Catherine was discharged."
In 1891, the year of her death, Catherine had last been recorded in the census for that year as being alone with her two sons, this being at the time her husband was away in the asylum.
Catherine's husband also had some obsessive fear that those around him were thinking him to be Jack the Ripper, who had been at large on the streets of London in 1888, and being much wounded Joseph does appear to have been given a severe beating in regard to this while out on the streets. One speculation, though maybe far fetched, is that Catherine was attempting to poison her husband in the belief that he really had been out attacking prostitutes?
Anyway, such was the tragic life of Catherine the Younger, for whom nothing could have been easy since her troubled childhood, her father nationwide perceived as responsible for the death of one of his sons, a mother away for a year in prison, and herself having been convicted and sent away from home.
1880
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 22nd April, to Poplar 24th April, still living at Pesters, Mill Lane
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 27th July, sent to Poplar 29th July, still living at Pesters
(Bartholomew was now aged 61)
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 22nd April, to Poplar 24th April, still living at Pesters, Mill Lane
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 27th July, sent to Poplar 29th July, still living at Pesters
(Bartholomew was now aged 61)
1880 Autumn
In late October, Bartholomew and Catherine's first grandchild was born, Mary Ann Seagrove, daughter of their son Thomas and his wife Maria. Baby Mary Ann had blue eyes and chestnut hair.
In late October, Bartholomew and Catherine's first grandchild was born, Mary Ann Seagrove, daughter of their son Thomas and his wife Maria. Baby Mary Ann had blue eyes and chestnut hair.
By 1881, now in his 60's, Bartholomew was too old to keep doing the hard labour regime at Poplar. In February of that year, while doing one of his labouring stints there, his health appears to have taken a turn for the worst, for which he was sent back to Greenwich and put in the workhouse infirmary. With workhouses being places where the most poor and sick would congregate, they were bound to be a health risk, though whether this was the start of Bartholomew's struggle with tuberculosis, which he later would most definitely have, this we don't know. This was simply not a good year at all for the family, as not only did Bartholomew's health fail him, but so did Catherine's.
Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer, sent by the master from Poplar
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 60 (by error the age reads as 6), of St Paul Deptford district, to infirmary
Bartholomew Sugrue, labourer, Roman Catholic, born in 1821
Catherine Sugrue, Bartholomew's wife, as I have seen in the 1881 census, was staying in a lodging house at 21 Knott Street, still in Deptford, this being the new location for William Pesters' lodging house. Knott Street is these days known as Benmore Street.
1881 Census information:
21 Knott Street, Deptford - Kate Sugrue, age 60, servant, married, born Kerry, Ireland - William Pester, head of household, age 60, labourer, born Epping and his wife Ann Pester, age 72, born Biddenden, and Clara, their niece, aged 11, born London
21 Knott Street, Deptford - Kate Sugrue, age 60, servant, married, born Kerry, Ireland - William Pester, head of household, age 60, labourer, born Epping and his wife Ann Pester, age 72, born Biddenden, and Clara, their niece, aged 11, born London
Nine people were boarding at the house, which Kate was at, one boarder being a lady seamstress, one man a seaman, and the rest all male labourers. Catherine's time there ended when she suffered a stroke, during that very same year of 1881, suffering paralysis on one side of her body. Her married daughter, Catherine the younger, stepped up to take care of her, finding her lodgings back in Greenwich at 4 Gilbert Street. It was at this time that Catherine the elder, as her son Thomas had done, changed her name to Seagrove.
As for Bartholomew in the 1881 census, we find him still in the Greenwich workhouse infirmary. For two months he had been ill there so far.
![Picture](/uploads/1/3/1/9/13193170/bartholomew-sugrue-workhouse-infirmary-1881_orig.jpg)
1881 Census information:
Greenwich workhouse infirmary - Bartholomew Sugrue, age 31, married, general labourer, born Kerry, Ireland
Greenwich workhouse infirmary - Bartholomew Sugrue, age 31, married, general labourer, born Kerry, Ireland
Bartholomew was not alone in the workhouse as his brother in law Patrick Reardon was also there, someone to visit him in the infirmary, someone to talk to and reminisce with. Patrick had variousy worked as a coachman and a shoemaker, and had at this time been residing at 25 Roan Street. As for one of Patrick's daughters, Bartholomew's niece, Julia, aged 29, she was said to be doing some actress work, but who as I see from the census was working as a servant at a smallpox hospital in Deptford (there was an epidemic of smallpox at this time). Julia and her sister Ellen, who worked as a charwoman, were in trouble in the autumn of 1881 for 'annoying gentlemen' at Loampit Hill who had come off the trains at the Lewisham Road Railway Station .
It is also from the 1881 census's that we see how the oldest Sugrue child, Mary, is doing, she being the oldest of the Sugrue children and still unmarried by the age of 30. While her parents were in the most destitute of places she was by contrast at one of the most exclusive London addresses, the Boltons in Kensington. Mary was staying at number 5 The Boltons, a lovely plush house, as one of five servant girls taking care of an army major, William Morgan, and his wife Elizabeth.
Mary Sugrue lived at 5, The Boltons, the house seen in this picture with a tree in front. Census information: 5, The Boltons, Kensington - William Morgan, age 56, major militia, born Radnorshire, Wales, and his wide Elizabeth A Morgan, age 69, born London - servants are Mary Ann Sugrue, age 30, born Greenwich, Kent; Mary Cummings, age 39, born Ripon, Yorkshire; Mucy Selborne, age 32, born Romsey, Hampshire; Martha Kittle, age 24, born Tixover, Rutland; and Sarah Ann Lee, age 23, born Sutton, Northamptonshire |
Daughter Catherine is also in the 1881 census, shown to be in young married life with her husband:
1881 Census Greenwich
9 Queen Street, Greenwich
Catherine Read, age 22, born Greenwich, and Joseph Read, age 22, general dealer, born Greenwich
1881 Census Greenwich
9 Queen Street, Greenwich
Catherine Read, age 22, born Greenwich, and Joseph Read, age 22, general dealer, born Greenwich
1881 Bartholomew had some time out of the workhouse, back with his wife Catherine at the lodging house at Deptford. This we know from his readmission back into the workhouse on 18th May.
He returned at 6 o'clock in the evening, and note was made of him being a labourer, aged 61, his wife being his next of kin, living at 21 Knott Street, being Roman Catholic, and destitute.
He returned at 6 o'clock in the evening, and note was made of him being a labourer, aged 61, his wife being his next of kin, living at 21 Knott Street, being Roman Catholic, and destitute.
Bartholomew Sugrue, labourer, wife, 21 Knott Street
It was in the autumn , on the 12th October, that Catherine sadly died, not having recovered from the complications of the stroke. Her married daughter, Catherine, was present at the death and registered it with the authorities two days later.
Death of Catherine detailed by the death certificate:
12th October 1881, Catherine Seagrove, of 4 Gibson Street, age 60, wife of Bartholomew Seagrove, a labourer, died from hemiplegia as certified by Mr Perceval - informant is C Read, daughter, present at the death, and resident of 9 Queen Street - registered on 14th October
12th October 1881, Catherine Seagrove, of 4 Gibson Street, age 60, wife of Bartholomew Seagrove, a labourer, died from hemiplegia as certified by Mr Perceval - informant is C Read, daughter, present at the death, and resident of 9 Queen Street - registered on 14th October
On hearing the news of his wife's death Bartholomew left the workhouse for two weeks, long enough to attend her funeral, and during that time stayed with his daughter Catherine and her husband in their home at 9 Queen Street. It was his daughter's name who was given as his next of kin when he returned to the workhouse.
11.30am departure, Bartholomew Sugrue, age 53, of St Pauls Deptford
Bartholomew Sugrue, labourer, daughter Mrs read, 9 Queen Street, Roman Catholic, age 61, of Greenwich
The next month, November, daughter Mary left her fine situation at The Boltons to begin married life with a widowed watchmaker, William Wood, their new home together being at 6 Endell Street, in the St Giles in the Fields area of London, an area of quite some poverty and squalour. The church Mary married in is popularly known as the Poets Church.
1881 Marriage 30th November at St Giles in the Fields, London
Mary Ann Sugrue, of 6 Endell Street, daughter of Bartholomew Sugrue, a bricklayers labourer
William Wood, widower, watchmaker, of 6 Endell Street, son of John Wood, a watchmaker
Witnesses are John Wood and Helen Luvydale
Mary Ann Sugrue, of 6 Endell Street, daughter of Bartholomew Sugrue, a bricklayers labourer
William Wood, widower, watchmaker, of 6 Endell Street, son of John Wood, a watchmaker
Witnesses are John Wood and Helen Luvydale
Bartholomew was still in the workhouse over the christmas period, which was the one time of the year that decorations would be put up and a celebratory feast prepared for the paupers, as is written about in the following song:
It is Christmas day in the workhouse,
And the cold, bare walls are bright With garlands of green and holly, And the place is a pleasant sight; For with clean washed hands and faces, In a long and hungry line, The paupers sit at the tables, For this is the hour they dine. |
And the guardians and their ladies
Altho' the wind is east, Have come in their furs and wrappers, To watch their charges feast; To smile and be condescending, Put pudding on pauper plates, To be hosts at the workhouse banquet They've paid for with the rates. |
After some half a year more in the workhouse, Bartholomew's situation appears to have been on the up, for which he was able to leave the institution, and his son Thomas Seagrove, who had so long distanced himself from his embarrassing past, abandoning family, surname and religion, now reconnected with his father and brought him into the family home. It was in the summer that Bartholomew left the workhouse and came to his son, on June 1st. Their home for most of this time was 9 Kitson Terrace.
Departure at 10.45am, Bartholomew Sugrue, age 62
All was fine for two years, Bartholomew getting back to labouring work, finding engagement back in the building trade. Then in later February of 1884 Bartholomew suffered a lapse of fortune, for which he returned to the workhouse for over half a year.
1884
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 26th February
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 63, a labourer, Roman Catholic and destitute, son Thomas of 9 Kitson Terrace
Admission into Greenwich workhouse 26th February
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 63, a labourer, Roman Catholic and destitute, son Thomas of 9 Kitson Terrace
Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer, son Thomas, 9 Kitsons Terrace
1884 Summer
On July 5th Bartholomew was discharged from the workhouse.
On July 5th Bartholomew was discharged from the workhouse.
Bartholomew Sugrue, age 65, residing in Greenwich
On leaving the workhouse Bartholomew returned to his son, Thomas, who had given up on fishing days to become a waterman.
Again all was well for quite some time.
Again all was well for quite some time.
There is mention in the Lloyds Weekly newspaper, written a little ahead in May, though relating to an incident in April, concerning a Sugrue family member (naturally our Bartholomew), who six weeks previously had a near fatal accident. He had fallen over a low fence onto the shore of the river Thames. The fence, being only two feet high, several people had fallen over the fence and had drowned in the deep river water on the other side. On account of the level of disability caused by his near death experience, Bartholomew, now aged 65, returned to the workhouse.
1885
Admission into the Greenwich workhouse 16th April
Bartholomew, age 65, a labourer, son whose name is not mentioned at 9 Kitsons Terrace
Admission into the Greenwich workhouse 16th April
Bartholomew, age 65, a labourer, son whose name is not mentioned at 9 Kitsons Terrace
Bartholomew Sugrue, a labourer, son, 9 Kitsons Terrace
This time, in the workhouse, Bartholomew was on a downward slope. He lived for a further year and a half at the workhouse, and at some point here it would be clear to all that he was suffering from the awful tuberculosis. His health deteriorated with no hope of recovery, and it was on October 25th 1886 at a quarter to six on a Monday afternoon he had a fatal episode of coughing and vomiting up blood. The tuberculosis, or as they then called it, phthisis, had finally got the better of him.
5.45 in the afternoon, Bartholomew Sugrue, age 66, of Greenwich, dead
Death certificate information:
25th October 1886 at the Union Workhouse, Greenwich East - Bartholomew Sugrue, age 66 years, bricklayers labourer, of 9 Kitson Terrace, Greenwich - died of pythysis hematemesis certified by Dr Burney - information from W Jordan, master of Union Workhouse - registered next day on 26th October
25th October 1886 at the Union Workhouse, Greenwich East - Bartholomew Sugrue, age 66 years, bricklayers labourer, of 9 Kitson Terrace, Greenwich - died of pythysis hematemesis certified by Dr Burney - information from W Jordan, master of Union Workhouse - registered next day on 26th October
As for Bartholomew's brother in law, Patrick Reardon, when he was admitted back into the Greenwich workhouse, in the following year, it was noted that he had no home and no friends. His last and only friend, Bartholomew Sugrue, was no more.