The ships my royal marine ancestor Philip Barton served on during the Napoleonic wars: Reunion (boy class) 1796 to 1796 Bellerophon up till 1800 Renown till early 1805 Thunderer 1805 to 1808 Mercurius till 1811 Mermaid till 1812 I swatted up till late about the ships my ancestor Philip Barton had served on. The most exotic location was Egypt and there were many battles. He was wounded but was a survivor, thank ye gods, for if he was not I would not exist. His fractured arm ended his time as a Royal Marine, for which he returned to London and married my ancestress Hannah Bunney. The Réunion was a French warship which harassed British merchant ships in the English Channel until the British captured it in 1793. Philip served on this ship as a 19 year old up until it was accidentally wrecked on sandbars off the English coast. Philip and most of the crew survived, except for three unlucky souls. The Reunion was the fastest of Britain’s ships at the time. The very day after the Reunion was wrecked, Philip was put onto the Bellerophon, where he served from ages 20 to 23. The mariners nicknamed the ship the ‘Billy Ruffian’. The ships mission was firstly to prevent the French ships from joining forces with Irish rebels, in which the stormy weather did its own part in scattering and destroying the enemy ships. The Bellerophon then joined Nelson’s fleet in the battle of the Nile, again successfully defeating the French. The battle took place at Aboukir Bay on the Nile delta. So now our Philip had sailed as far as Egypt. The Bellerophon fought against a much larger ship, The Orient, and in consequence was in serious trouble, the masts collapsing and fires breaking out. 200 of Philips comrades were casualties to this battle. They won the combat against the Orient though, sacking and burning that French ship, blowing it up with over a thousand men on board. The French admiral was killed by a cannonball before that final explosion. The Orient had just come from Malta where it had looted considerable treasure, all being carried on board. For Phillips own ship to survive, there being no masts left and being under fire also from the Tonnant, the anchor cables had to be cut so the ship could drift away from the continuing battle. Philip was for long at Lisbon in Portugal as the ship was made seaworthy once more. Philip now served on the Renown, with more battling ahead of him, again at great peril to his comrades. On attacking a French convoy at the Isle de Noirmoutier many of the mariners were taken prisoner by the French. The following month the Renown attempted an invasion of the Spanish city of Ferrol, there capturing the French ship Guêpe. Another attempt at capturing Cadiz was aborted. Philip was now awarded the Naval General Service medal, a clasp ‘Egypt’ later added for the ships next mission, back in Egyptian waters, as part of the Egyptian Campaign. The ship remained at Malta for a couple of years and finally was sent to Plymouth for repairs. Philip was 29 now and was on the Thunderer for three years. Again he was battling the Franco-Spanish fleet, this time at the battle of Finisterre where Philip and his crew intercepted foreign ships returning from the West Indies. Seven of Philips comrades were killed and eleven were wounded, masts were damaged and several shots were encrusted into the hull. Scurvy was afflicting the men, and not for the first time. And now came the most famed battle of Trafalgar in which Philips ship performed admirably, fighting against the Spanish Principe de Asturias and the French Neptune. Sixteen of Philips comrades died in this battle. The ship stayed intact though and was able to aid other more battered ships. The Thunderer was the first British ship back to Gibraltar, with an enemy ship in tow, the San Juan Nepomuceno. Philips last engagement on the Thunderer was to capture a ship from Dubrovnik, the Nemesis, which was was sailing from Italy to France with a cargo of spices and indigo dye. The cargo was shared as prize money between the Thunderer and ten other British warships. The Thunderer was then decommissioned. For three years Philip was then on the ship Mercurius, he now being aged 32. This was a Danish ship which the British had captured and it’s role was to escort vessels in the North Sea, as also to capture enemy ships, among which it captured the Bonne Mere, the Carolus, the Enigheid, the Larken, the Jupiter and the Ana Catherina. The last ship Philip served on was the Mermaid, up until his left arm was fractured and he had to retire on a pension. The ship transported troops between Britain and Iberia for the Peninsular War. And so ended Philips 15 years of marine service, after which he began his married life in London with his sweetheart, the considerably younger Hannah Bunney. It was they who married in St Martins in the Fields which overlooks Trafalgar Square.
Thank you my dear ancestors. I respect, honour and appreciate you.
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The impulse to check out the Kew Archives got me and so out to Kew Gardens Station I travelled (rather a long way from Whitehchapel). Kew Gardens was a grand establishment and all was free. I had to get a readers ticket, coats and bags had to be in a locker, and a specific researcher was on hand for advice (somewhat grumpy and reticient). I'd come to check out why my ancestor John Harrison ended up in an asylum, but this was the wrong place for that (Kentish Archives had those records), but I could research more about my mariner, Philip Barton, and so this was what I did. Straight away the researcher could see that the ship Philip had been on at the battle of Trafalgar was the Thunderer. Wow! Like up until now I'd simply been going on a P Barton listed as being at Trafalgar and nothing more precise than that. So this was like gold for me. I had to order upon one of the many computers the specific document. At the same time as ordering the sailors book for the Thunderer I ordered documents for one of Philips children on his admittance into the Greenwich school for sailors children. Having an hour to wait for these documents I looked up what else I could for Philip. On a link to 'Find My Past' there were certain brief records. Philip Barton was adlitted to the Greenwich Hospital at the age of 54. He was at that time an out pensioner. He had served in the Marines for 15 years and 10 months, the pension having been granted to him back in 1815, when he was 40, it being £13.12 for life. The pension was awarded due to his arm having been fractured while on service. He was also wounded in the chest and in his wrists. The records say he was born in Bermondsey, London, and that he left service because of the left arm fracture. The £13.12 was an annual payment. The musters of the Thunderer I now got to look through in a special research room, taking a while to find Philips name in a huge old book listing the sailors names. Twice I found him listed and it was clearly him, on the ship the Thunderer in 1805 during the battle of Trafalgar, listed in May and then in september and October, and for that with not made of him being paid a bounty of £2.10. This was too amazing. And I looked up for a picture of the Thunderer and there it was in a painting in wild seas. This was the stuff of legends and he was there. The Thunderer was the first boat to sight the Franco-Spanish fleet: Battle of Trafalgar 1805 21st October. And now on the Greenwich School records, which were in a box on another level of the Archives, much other information was given, like all the ships Philip had served on and when, they being the Reunion, the Bellerophon, the Renown, the Thunderer, the Mercurius, and the Mermaid. For this I was later able to work out all the campaigns and locations associated with him. Along Philips childrens school admittance documents were various other pieces of information, such as the childrens birth/baptism certificates and lists giving their ages along with current address in Greenwich at different times. For instance, there was that curiosity (for me) of how it was that Philips wife Hannah resorted to the workhouse when giving birth to one of her children, Philip George Barton (as I have seen, Philip Barton went off to live in the Greenwich Hospital in March of that year which would have been when Hannah was five months pregnant with their child): At the time of daughter Hannahs entrance into the Greenwich school for sailors children, which was in around 1830, the Bartons are written to be living at the Royal Hospital of Greenwich (rather Philip himself would have been but not the others), there being at that time five chidren in the family, and Philip himself has given a list of the ships he served on, not being by memory so accurate ahout the dates. This next paper would be from 1832, being from son James Bartons entrance into the Greenwich School. Philips family were at that time living in Rose Place in Greenwich and there were six children, listed with their ages as James, age 9; Christian, age 16; Anna, age 14; Thomas, age 6; Philip, age 4; and Joseph, age 15 months. Another paper in the school dossiers is from when Philip Barton had died and Hannah was still alive. This shows that it was in the Greenwich Hospital that Philip had died. As I know from other records this was in 1837. So it would have been just after Philip Bartons death, still in 1837, that his son carrying his name, Philip George Barton (it being he who had been born in a workhouse), was the next of the children to be admitted into the Greenwich School for sailors children. The family was now living at 3 York Place, as it is specified this being at the back of a pub called the Beehive. The children still at home were Joseph and Caroline (poor little Eleanor Caroline was about to be sent off to an orphanage in Whitechapel so her mother could work as a nurse in the very same Greenwich Hospital) and Thomas, aged 11, who remained at home (no school for him) as it is said he was 'afflicted' which would mean that he had learning diffifulties or a physical challenge, for instance he could have had downs syndrome (which was unrecognised as a medical condition back then). In 1841 it was the turn of Joseph Barton, aged 10, to be schooled at the Greenwich School for sailors children. All the children of the family who were as yet unmarried were listed with their ages, whether they lived at home with Hannah or not: Hannah, 22; James, 18; Thomas, 16; Philip, 14, and Caroline (Eleanor), age 7 (I know from the 1841 census etc that ony the sons lived with their mother now, Eleanor being in the orphanage and Hannah living out as a servant in a pub called the Portland Hotel). The family was still living at York Place. The parish of settlement for the family is mentioned as being St Anne's, Blackfriars (this being the original home of Philip Bartons ancestors). I was pretty thrilled with this research.
And I drew a line there. On yet another day of looking at places of the ancestors I went to Greenwich, heading straight for the church of St Alphege, as that and its surrounding lanes had long been associated with my family. Around the church, St Alphege Passage, my people had lived there, the Harrison's, right by Soames's vicarage, and there was Roan Street, which had been home to both Harrisons and Bartons. They were quiet lanes now and not at all like bustling London just over the river. I passed through Greenwich market where once my Harrison's had sold their fish. I came next to the grand white naval college buildings, this being the old sailors home where had lived Philip Barton and where his wife Hannah née Bunney had worked as a nurse, a beautiful place set among vast lawns. There I roamed, into an old chapel, and around old exhibitions in which could see, for example, a typical sailors room (cabin) in which one would have a bed, chest and seat. Even the robes there one was invited to try on. I tried on the typical tricorne hat, just as my ancestor would have worn. And I looked around the maritime museum. Jack Tarr was a statuette there, a name which the sailors always knew themselves by. I then visited another church associated with the family, Christ Church, where had been baptised some of the Seagrove children. From there I roamed more of our families addresses, where had lived our Seagroves - Lassell Street (their home there was no more standing) and Braddyl Street (still standing) and another of their homes on the Old Woolwich Road (number 57) where I happened to meet the current resident, Sharon, who I got chatting with as she was out in her front garden and who found it interesting that my people had once lived there.
I continued my mission, while in London, to visit places specific to my ancestors and that involved a considerable amount of working around, 19 klms in full. My first port of call was the orphanage with my ancestress Eleanor Caroline Barton had grown up in, close to where I was staying in Whitechapel, at 66 Great Prescott Street. Nothing is as it was. Modernity has crushed all that was for my peoples homes. Just a grand building with no antiquity. The man at reception knew nothing of the history of this place. I carried on retracing the steps of my ancestors. I was excited to at last approach the church of St Sepulchre, family church to my Bartons, when they had lived in Cock Lane just beyond. Quite a lovely church, associated with blessing those being taken from the jail to their execution, the bell which rung for them still to be seen in a glass case. A grand organ. The fine baptismal font with its faces of cherubims where our Barton babes were baptised. Cock Lane was again ultra modern and lost to its past, although one building retained the name of an old inn 'The Saracens Head' and at the other end of Cock Lane was reference to another old pub 'The Fortune of War', a golden statue of a naked boy high up there on a plinth, he being a symbol of gluttony (it was gluttony which was thought to be the cause of the Fire of London). This last mentioned pub had been a hang out for former body snatchers. As I had researched, body snatching was quite a thing locally in days gone by. The pub had a special room in which the dead bodies were laid upon benches around the walls, bearing the names of those who had stolen them from whichever graveyard, awaiting surgeons to come and buy whichsoever they wanted. Cock Lane was not only famed for its ghost called 'Scratching Fanny', but was another locale associated with prostitiutes. One prostitute, named Clarice, born in 1732, was early on educated in the finer arts of the profession (a courtesan one may say then) and was the areas most famous 'harlot'. She died of the pox at the age of 43. Just a little further along was the old Smithfield live animal market (now of dead animals only). This used to be the place of execution. Even wives would be sold here till as much as the early 1800's. Further beyond still was Cowcross Street, where also my people had lived. Cocks and cows, all connected since very old times to livestock sales. More of my families lanes I now walked, again all modernised and lost to their past - the former Field Lane where had lived my Bartons and Bunneys. Only their family church of St Andrew had kept its historical roots. I had another church to visit, that one overlooking Trafalgar Square, St Martin in the Fields, which by the time I got there was closed. This was where my Hannah Bunney married her sailor Philip Barton in 1814.
I met Darren, who was my daughter Eleanors boyfriend. He had some tattoos, both gentle and strong, from Basildon in Essex. As I would see, on beginning to suss out his genealogy, as of course I would, with him phoning his parents for information, he was descended from lorry drivers and even they were from the same areas of London as our own ancestors, that is Greenwich (well, Lewisham really) and Lambeth. There were many Londoners in general in his genealogy. One, edward Ryde of Isleworth, was even an undertaker. One ancestress, Esther York, looked of interest for having had two children out of wedlock. Still single at the age of 30, her youngest child, by then five, at last was baptised. I wonder, did her then husband, Edward Ryde, even know about her children, who certainly weren't living with them upon the beginning of their married life together. These were the days of 'skeletons in the cupboards', when it was shameful of one didn't tow the line with what was considered 'normality'. And there were Stafford ancestors not sending their children to school (which as I have seen was actually pretty normal) and one Stafford lad getting smallpox for which he was shut up in the pest house, as were other smallpox sufferers. There were a couple of drunkard ancestors in Warminster who were much in the papers for their shennagins. One of these fellows even died from fighting with his nephew after a drunken altercation in the pub. The landlord had told them to take their quarrel outside, whereon they had fallen into a quarry and the nehew, Uriah, had savagely stamped on his uncles chest. He was acquitted of murder, though, because the specifically fatal injuries could rather have come from falling into the quarry. Another Warminster ancestor, along with his pals, was into dog drawn carts (which was illegal and for which they all got in trouble). He cared not for societies rules and was in and out of gaol. He was a chimney sweep and even got int trouble for using one of his sons (who was underage) to climb the chimneys (which had also been made illegal). They were a fighting hard-drinking bunch. More scandal I found in Darrens family, there being an ancestor who was a philanderer and an adulterer, Charles William Allett, who had children by many women. One of his ladies was Darrens ancestress, Elizabeth Ann Smith who had four sons with him, all out of wedlock. It was of quite some interest to unravel his story.
While staying in London, I visited the area where had lived my Harbridge ancestors, at St John's Court, just off Half Moon Alley. I had already seen on the map that this place no longer existed, but still I wanted to experience being where once had been their home. On arriving at Half Moon Passage I did indeed locate the original place, although it was not named and was just a dead end way between high ugly modern buildings, a place of bins and extractor fans, with not any clue of its olde worlde past. The dead end, once a throughway, was now blocked off by big buildings, Standon House and the Abokado restaurant beside it. Opposite was the now named Little Somerset Street, the same shape as when it had been the original Harrow Alley and Cimber Yard. Yes I had for sure found my ancestral place. Here had lived William Harbridge and Elizabeth née Minsham (Elizabeth being the furest back I had got on my matriarchal line). Their daughter, Sarah, was 13 when she married 21 year old Robert Bunney, a cooper by profession, the newly wed couple also living with Sarahs parents at St Johns Court. I next walked to the family church close by, that of St Botolph Without Aldgate, which I'd walked past a little earlier and had recognised, yes, this was one of our churches. The church was closed, but on the steps sat a bunch of people listening to a man talking. I assumed they were a study group; it was later, reflecting on his words, that I realised this was a guided Jack the Ripper walk. That which I heard: This church had been a hang out for prostitutes, in that they would continually encircle it, strolling round and round, until clients, who were in the know, would approach them. To be able to even do such a trying profession they would drink cheap gin. That was all I heard. I walked around a little garden area to the side of the church, where maybe tramps slept, and as I observed, youngsters were skateboarding in an adjacent park. William Harbridges family, before living at St Johns Court, lived at Cradle Court, just off Aldersgate Street, where was yet another St Botolph Church (there were four St Botolph churches in London). At the Aldersgate St Botolph Church, William Harbridge was baptised in 1738, his parents being William (senior) and Mary Harbridge. When William (the younger) was 23 he married at this same church to Elizabeth Minsham. Cradle Court, I couldn't locate this time round, but did read a reference to it being in these times occupied by warehouses. Nor did I get to visit that specific St Botolph Without Aldersgate church (they were all called 'Without' due to being just outside the town walls). Elizabeth Minsham was 22 when she married William Harbridge in 1763 and it was a quick wedding, by a paid for allegation rather than banns, because Elizabeth was already four months pregnant and beginning to show. It was then at St Johns Court that this family lived and raised various children, in total six girls and one boy, the address of St Johns Court being mentioned in all their baptisms and the church being St Botolph Without Aldgate. Sarah was their second daughter; the others were Elizabeth, Joseph, Mary Jane, Christian and her twin sister Jane. There is another record showing residence at St Johns Court in regard to Sarahs husband, Robert Bunney, who voted using this address during the Westminster elections in 1874. In politics Robert supported Charles Fox who was a radical whig anti-slavery campaigner, advocating individual liberty and religious tolerance. It was on another day that I returned to St Botolph Without Aldgate church; it now being open.
In regard to my DNA and the mystery of who may really have been my nanny Eileens father, I was now thinking it could have been and American soldier who had landed in Southampton in 1917. My Aunt Lolly had been given as a low confidence genetic group 'Southern USA'. I saw that during the first world war American soldiers did indeed come to Southampton, which was where Eileens mother, Florence Maxted, worked at the time as a barmaid in a pub.
So why do I question who was Eileens real father? Because according to DNA no matches had been given for what I had worked out as her accepted father Percys worked out ancestry, for one, no distant cousins of that lineage. Also, it was always a suspicion anyway, even for the rest of Percy's famiy, that the red haired Eileen was someone elses baby for which they had for a long time been snubbed. Percy and Florence had married just two weeks before Eileens birth and he was considerably older than Florence. Why had it taken them so long to marry? Their excuse was that he'd been away at sea and had not known of the pregnancy. This potential American DNA of ours covered many wiuthern American states, they being Americans who had generally originated in north-west Europe. And German settlers, as well as Scandanavians, were also specified as being a possibility. Aunt Lolly did indeed also have 9.1% north west european DNA. Where does one go from here? There are so many American cousin matches, but all quite distant. Some serious detective work is needed here. |
AuthorSusie Harrison and her hobby of genealogy, always looking into her own and her friends family trees. Categories
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