Genealogy, so time consuming, much to look at, and often nothing to find. and then hurray, a little treasure of information presents itself. In my case it was discovering that my Irish Greenwich based Bartholomew Sugrue was godfather to another families child. Bartholomew the Godfather. Godparents are never, as yet, included in transcriptions, for which this was really quite a find. Getting to such a find involves a whole lot of detective work which could lead nowhere. Here, it was from looking at the lives of those who had been godparents to Bartholomew's own children and looking up their own family records. The Graney family, also from Ireland and settled in Greenwich, had been godparents in 1860 to Bartholomew's daughter, Catherine, registered in the baptisms of the Roman Catholic records of Our Lady Star Of The Sea, at Greenwich, when she was just over a year in age. And then, such joy for me, like really, to find that the very next year, in 1861, our Bartholomew was in turn a godparent to the Graney's son, William Joseph Graney. Of this Graney family, friends to the Sugrues, the head of the household, John Graney, worked with Bartholomew in the building trade, and his wife, Mary Graney, née Kane, I saw that by 1881 she was a widow, just about surviving as a hawker on the streets, and interestingly her place of origin was listed, maybe being another clue to the Sugrue families own origins, all being from County Kerry, her hometown being Castleisland at the beginning of the Vale of Tralee, a town surrounded by hills and boglands, atop a vast cave system known as Crag Cave, within which were the underground waters of the Green Lake. Ah, I have tried and tried, and yet have never found a baptism in Ireland for Bartholomew Sugrue, for which I wonder if his family were travellers, not bothering with the system and its obligations; like it's so that Bartholomew never bothered legally registering his children births when living in Greenwich, even though by law one had to do so. And then again, some of the Irish settlers appear to have used alternative names, such as Garrett London, who was a godfather for Bartholomew's son Daniel in 1857 and yet called himself Garrett Barry in the 1851 census. And at the time of the marriage of Bartholomew's grown up son, Thomas (my ancestor), instead of giving his fathers name as Bartholomew Sugrue, Thomas said he was James Seagrove, although we can surmise that by then Thomas wished to disassociate from his fathers scandals. This family continues to fascinate me, and the next day I happily found out more about the Sugrues. I'd not realised it before, but Bartholomew's close friend, Patrick Reardon, who had been best man at his wedding to his first wife Ellen Sullivan, was actually his brother in law, Ellen being none other than Bartholomew's sister, Ellen Sugrue. This and more I was finding out by grace of the Roman Catholic records of our Lady Star of the Sea on FindMyPast, which I had paid a lot to join for a year, but which was yielding anyway these delightful finds for me. Bartholomew's sister, Ellen, was a few years older than him, and this sibling connection explains how it is that these two families were so entwined. It was in looking at a baptism of Patrick and Ellens daughter Mary Ann Reardon, that I saw a side note saying sub-conditional, which at first I though meant handicapped in some way, but actually it referred to a child that may or may not have been previously baptised. Well, it was on that baptism, that I saw Ellen Reardon's surname prior to marriage revealed: she was a Sugrue. I next found that Bartholomew Sugrues first wife, Ellen Sullivan, was a godmother to Patrick and Ellen Reardon's first child, Helen (Ellen) in 1846. It was three months after that baptism that she and Bartholomew married, and then, as I know, having had one child together, Ann, Ellen became very ill in the summer of 1849 with cholera and died. And as for another of Patrick and Ellen Reardon's children, Catherine, Bartholomew's second wife, Catherine Sheehan, was the baby girls godmother in 1855. I happened now to find the Roman Catholic version of Bartholomew Sugrue's marriage to his first wife, Ellen Sullivan, which had more detail than the official certificate, on account of it giving the names and locations of the couples parents. Ellen Sullivans parents were John and Ellen Sullivan of County Kerry. Bartholomew's parents were Thomas Sugrue (I'd already known he had Thomas as a father) and Joanna, which I had not known, they being of County Kerry. So for all of this I could add two new people to my tree, Joanna as Bartholomew's mother and Ellen as his sister. Sad it was to see that his sister, Ellen, died in 1865 aged 45. Interestingly, in one of the census's Ellen gave her place of birth as Church Hill in County Kerry, at last the best clue yet as to where Bartholomew himself may have been born. The Roman Catholic residents of that village, at the time when they would have been there, attended an old and dilapidated chapel, in nearby Chapeltown.. This was due to the original medieval Roman Catholic Church of their own village, on its splendid old hill, with its fine views of the sea, having been long been supplanted by a protestant church. Back in the 1700's, this whole area had been a place of smuggling and the village itself was a protected archeological site. Eventually Church Hill would have a Roman Catholic Church again , but not till after the Sugrue's would had left for England, the church to be St Marys, Star of the Sea (like the church in Greenwich). Tralee, from where was the lovely folk song I used to sing on the piano, was the nearest sizeable town, 10 klms away. Patrick Reardon himself was from Waterville in County Kerry, and we see now another of the family friends, Mary Kane was from Castleisland. And it's fine enough to piece together information once these folk were in England, but Irish records are still as vague and untraceable as ever.
0 Comments
I found something of interest, looking again at Roman Catholic baptisms for my Sugrue family in Greenwich, which I'd formerly at last accessed from, yes, FindMyPast at Kew Record Centre. What I now found was another baptised child of the family, hitherto unseen, Carmelita Jane. This baby must not have survived so long. What a super name Bartholomew and Catherine had chosen for her, Carmelita, which derives from Mount Carmel in the Holy Land, which means a beautiful lush garden, essentially the beauty of nature. I do wonder if they had been inspired by the lovely grand gardens of Greenwich, the Greenwich hill being nicknamed by them, and maybe others of the Irish community, Mount Carmel, or so I imagine. Even the godmother chosen for Carmelita had an unusually colourful name, Concetta, a name referring specifically to the immaculate conception.
While in a café, Freaks, in Carcassonne, sheltering from the cold in a cosy chair, I perused from the book shelf a brill old gypsy book with super black and white photos from the 60's and 70's, 'Tsiganes et Gitanes' by Hans Silvester and Jean-Paul Clebert. So good the photos were that I was sharing them with my gypsy friend Ella May, who so delighted in them that she instantly ordered the book second-hand online. Such an olde way of life was portrayed, even through from not so far back, photos of gypsies dwelling in caves, travelling with bears and monkeys, which would dance to the beat of their tambourines, and such a beautiful photo of a young girl kissing the deity of Sara Kali at St Marie de la Mer.
My Irish people, I so wish I knew something of their world. I did find reference to a Thomas Sugrue in the old newspapers, Thomas being the name of Bartholomew's father, who with one of his sons, also called Thomas, was part of a mass of rioting villagers, up in arms against an unwanted new priest who was replacing the villagers much beloved priest. The villagers therefore forcefully threw the new priest out from their chapel, which although locked up, he had 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 rioters, the name of Ellen's father, so one does wonder could these be the actual fathers involved in this rioting. The other men who were majorly involved were three MacCarthy brothers, Denis Barton, Joseph Kennington and John Murphy. John McCarthy, one of the brothers, happens to have later been the name of one of Barthomew's lodgers, as revealed in the census of 1861. The hated new priest, Thomas Carmody, was from Ballinamona and the rural chapel, which was at Tonereigh, alias Toneragh, was one built and maintained by the villagers themselves, who wished still for their long serving priest David O'Connor, whom the Bishop had deemed no longer capable of doing his duty. The villagers 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 struck his fist on the altar and announced "Where is the person who will say mass" while cursing with the 'most violent and blasphemous language'. A woman had to then interfere to stop this fellow from beating the priest with his stick. Thomas Sugrue was further back in the church with a crook in his hand, with which he tried 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 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. I do so try to envisage the rural Irish ways my people would have known prior to the famine. It was in the year that the people rioted against the priest that the famine began, which would continue for seven years. Traditionally the rural men of Ireland would twice yearly voyage to England and there work in the fields, like as I have seen with the hop picking, and Bartholomew may well have done likewise, and for sure some women of the families would have accompanied them too. In this way they would save some money from their English wages to bring back to Ireland. The women, along with their children, had their own habit of seasonal roaming and begging. I don't imagine this to have been borne of destitution as it was later, but that they would have profited from gathering blackberries, crab apples, seaweeds, whatsoever of natures wild harvest, this being a way that was still semi-nomadic, born of an old hunter-gatherer culture. But all becomes more dire when the untamed lands get snatched up by landowners who seek to profit by this, by which the old ways are thwarted. When nature provides less, then begging from those of better means becomes relevant, and ultimately a means of survival in times of need. The loss of cultural ways breaks the vibrant spirit, hence the turning to alcohol and dysfunctionalism. Bartholomew didn't remain in Ireland to try and survive through that famine, being early on seen in Greenwich. Even in his hardest times to come, in and out of the workhouse, he never sought to return to his homeland. Maybe, as with the rioters, he had got into trouble there. I imagine that while in England doing seasonal work he was attracted to the employment opportunties in the booming building trade, while also falling in love. The Irish had been settling in Greenwich in small numbers long before such times, as for instance, as I've seen reference in one old newspaper, in 1841, in regard to an Irish woman, Mrs Moriarty, who was a brothel madam in Greenwich, keeper of a 'house of ill fame' on Roan Street. As I have seen, Roan Street looks so tame, quiet and inconsequential now. Quite wild in those days though.
I made another long journey from central London out to the Kew Archives. Not that I made such grand discoveries as last time. Seeking my ancestral Maxteds in a big book of Nine Elms railway employees yielded nothing. But I did find a few things which had so far eluded me. And that was just by accessing Find My Past, information I'd not been able to find on the Ancestry website. I had already sussed out, by deduction, that my ancestor Robert Bunney (Senior) had married an Ann Aylward, but had never found a marriage record confirming this till now (my deduction had been due to Alyward being used down generations as a middle name for various children). It was at the church of Mary Magdalene (of course lol) that they had married one another on 26th February 1764 in Bermondsey. And I found my Welsh ancestor John Harrisons school admissions for the hamlet of Pwlldu, , in both 1876 and 1877, recording that the familys adress was at 'Lower Bank' and that his father worked as (yes I knew) an ostler. What I was really pleased with was at last finding Thomas Sugrues baptism, which was in Greenwich in 1854 at the Roman Catholic church of Our Lady of the Sea. Thomas's birthday was here recorded (a good find) as being on 24th Febfuary (making him an Aries), the baptism having been on 26th March. His godparents were Michael and Maria MacDonnell. I found Roman Catholic baptisms for Thomas's siblings too, for Joanna, Catherine, Jacobus, Edmund and the twins Daniel and Bartholomew. Interestingly I discovered also that the childrens father, Bartholomew Sugrue, had also had a child with his first wife, Ellen, who had died of Asiatic cholera. I'd never seen anything to prove before that they'd had a baby together, but there she was, a daughter, Anna, born in 1847, her godparents being Corey Malvina and Margaret Gallachan.
It was on clearing in the house that I found some family tree certificates and in looking at them once more, and reading of my great great grandparents, William and Mary Maxted's daughters death, of young Sarah, aged 13, from heart failure, that I saw something I'd not taken note of before, which was that the address had been given as Nazareth House in Isleworth, not their home at all. On looking up this place, I saw that it was and industrial school for Roman Catholic girls. Two considerations now came to me, one naturally being why was Sarah even there, as such schools were in general for children who had fallen into trouble and who had been sent there by the courts, and maybe to her detriment considering that she had died there. And secondly, I had seen from baptisms already, that although William Maxted was and English fellow and not at all Roman Catholic, he had nevertheless honoured his Irish wifes wishes by allowing her the grace to raise their children in her own religion, and maybe Sarah's death at an institution run by nuns ended all that. 'No more' I could imagine him saying. On looking up about Nazareth House it appeared to be a fine estate in London, with gardens and an educational curriculum teaching all the skills a girl back then was thought to be good for them, such as cooking, laundry, needlework and housmaid service, as well as musical drills to keep them fit, and access to a toy cupboard and library. And yet Sarah's health had deteriorated there. Hammersmith in London, where my family lived, was where the original Poor Sisters Of Nazareth first set up, their mission being to take care of both young and old. From there the houses had spread out into the rest of Britain. I saw an address I could write to, by snail mail, to ask for any relevant information to this situation, from the nuns archives; so I promptly wrote a letter, hoping for something, anything, in response. And it was then that I saw negative looking links about these very Sisters of Nazareth, in which abuses were insinuated. Nazareth Houses were dotted around England, to be found in various cities, and specific writings about them had disturbing titles, such as 'Suffer The Little Children - The True Story Of An Abused Covent Upbringing', Guradian articles such as 'Nuns Abused Hundreds Of Children', 'Sisters Of No Mercy' and 'SIsters Of Nazareth Become Second Catholic Order To Admit Child Abuse'. I guess the first would be the Magdalene nuns who had been outed for abusing pregnant girls. I was shocked. Like, Hello, are you the representatives of God and of Jesus? Devoting your lives to a holy path and yet abusing and traumatising those given unto your care. I now sensed my own ancestors pains and trials tied up in this story. To trust in the church and yet be let down by them. One Guardian article was even titled 'Children At Derry Care Homes Were Made To Eat Vomit, Inquiry Told'. I did hope the actual Isleworth home had decent friendly nuns in it. Anyway, from Amazon I ordered one of the books, the 'Suffer The Little Children' one by Frances Reilly, who a a girl had been abandoned by her mother, along with her sisters, outside a Nazareth House convent in Belfast. She had suffered there from brutal beatings, was abused, molested and worked as a slave. In later life Frances prosecuted the nuns and in this she was successful. In another account about an abusive Nazareth House, by a man, Fred Atkins, who had regularly been beaten up by the nuns from the age of six, he even in old age was still haunted by the noise of children banging their heads against the walls of the dormitories. Night time sleeping would be interrupted by the nuns checking for bed wetting, for which beatings would follow, one bed wetter being held out of the window by her ankles as a punishment. Nuns had leather straps dangling from their waists next to their rosary beads. Another lad had named this institution the 'House Of Hell'. When I at last heard back from the nuns of Nazareth House. Their achivist, Christine H, had not found anything in regard to my Sarah, but she did invite me to provide more information by email, which I promptly did.
This extra information resulted in a reply of a little more substance than previously. Sarah Kathleen Maxted had indeed been a child in the care of the nuns, number 49 on the Isleworth Children's Register. She had been sent to the convent by a magistrate, Mr Rose, for which one had to conclude really that she had been sent there for some mischief, not that any note had been made of why. Christine noted that even prior to Sarah being sent to Nazareth House she'd had an ongoing religious connection with the place, having had certain Christian moments there, of confirmation, first confession and holy communion. Christine had not found any such moments for Sarah's siblings or her Irish mother.* It had certainly been a contemplation of mine that Sarah may have had downs syndrome, hence why she would have spent so much time with the nuns and would then explain why she had a weak heart and had died at only 13 years of age. I had often wondered what it would have been like for such children in olden days, in times before this was even recognised as a specific condition. For long I focused on genealogy, updating friends trees, some for Debbie and some for Phillipa. Debbie has quite some rural and town poverty, but also farmers and boat builders, and even she has Roman Catholics of Esh, a chapel there having been disguised as a barn, this being before catholic emancipation. From the humble, to the rich gentry of Phillipa's ancestry, of tonnes of servants, back in a time when a gentleman was not expected to work. Even Phillipa's own father was head of the clan Dunlop, inheriting this on the death of his older brother, who had been a seafaring, drug smuggling, gun runner, who ended his days in Panama. Phillipa's dad had been high spirited enough himself, having one night with his adventurer son and a friend, in an attempt to enliven their sleepy town, galloped horses through it while firing guns, not that anyone appeared to notice, all being tucked up in bed. In Burma during the war Phillipa's dad had romanced with a Burmese princess. Quite humbly, he never touted his position of 'Lord Dunlop' as had his brother. Phillipa was brought up climbing trees and driving tractors, the girls as boyish as their brother, who is the present Lord Dunlop. AuthorAuthor Susie Harrison and her hobby of genealogy, always looking into her own and her friends family trees. ![]() Having returned to France, I check out the info presented in the new certificates, learning of the overcrowded Roman Catholic chapel in Clarkes Buildings, Greenwich, used by my Irish Sugrue's, the illnesses they died from, Bartholomew vomiting up blood as a consequence of having tuberculosis, and his wife Catherine suffering a stroke while working as a servant in a Deptford lodging house, for which she was paralysed through half her body. So it is that I learn of their final struggles. AuthorSusie Harrison and her hobby of genealogy, always looking into her own and her friends family trees. |
AuthorSusie Harrison and her hobby of genealogy, always looking into her own and her friends family trees. Categories
All
|