Ann Wheatley (1766-1840)

 

Isn't this document beautifully written (above). Not all parish registers are this easy to read. It records my 5xgreat grandmother Ann Wheatley’s (1766-1840) baptism in the church of St. Giles-without-Cripplegate, Middlesex. She was born on the 7th March 1766, the daughter of James and Penelope Wheatley.

James Wheatley is described as a wire drawer. This old occupation involved making wire by extracting metal through various size holes in a template. Documents show the Wheatley family living in Holywell Lane, Shoreditch. 

South of Holywell Lane is New Inn Street were a warren of skilled craftsmen was beginning to thrive. Several generations of the Wait family worked here as carpenters and paid their rent to Lord Bateman. And it was probably along this cramped narrow street, amidst the sawdust and stacks of timber that James’s daughter Ann met up with her future husband, John Wait (1765-1831). 

Just over a mile away from St. Giles, along Whitecross Street and its old market stands St. Luke’s Church. As the population continued to increase in the area, St. Luke’s was built to relieve some of the pressure on St. Giles. And it was in St Lukes, on St. Valentine’s Day 1790, just a year after the start of the French Revolution, that Ann Wheatley married my 5xgreat grandfather John Wait. Exactly a year later, on 14th February 1791, Ann gave birth to their first child- a boy. This date meant a lot to the couple and they had their son baptised William Valentine Wait at Holywell Mount Chapel, near Curtain Road.

I have written several articles about William. My research showed that he became a successful barrister's clerk and lodged in Sandwich Street in Marylebone. He left a very detailed Will that revealed much of his lifestyle. His funeral took place in Highgate Cemetery on the 7th of February 1857.

Meanwhile, Ann went on to have three more children, Sophia Wait (1792-1795), Ann Wait (1795-1867) and my 4x Grandfather, John Wait (1797-1868). She passed away during the severe winter of 1840 and the burial register shows that Anne’s body was brought from Grays Inn Road, along Old Street and passed St. Luke’s into Bunhill Fields Cemetery where she was buried on January 3rd 1841.

The opening of my Primary School

 

This newspaper cutting from The Gazette on May 7th 1963, was carefully kept in a drawer by my Nan in London. It shows the pupils of Aylesford County Primary School during its opening ceremony. I am sat in the front (with an x over my head). I still have those National Health glasses!

I have fond memories of this school in Teapot Lane. Every morning our Head Mistress, Miss E H Smiles held an assembly in that hall, which also doubled up as the school canteen. Huge hymn sheets would hang down from its ceiling and with the residual odour of school dinners wafting under our noses we would sing hymns like, 'All things bright and beautiful...'

As a gift to their headmistress, parents and children of the school collected a huge amount of milk tops - raising enough money to get Miss Smiles a beagle puppy. The pupils voted to name the dog Penny. 

Because this fund-raiser proved so successful the next project was even more challenging - an outside swimming pool. This was eventually constructed together with a pair of heavily creosoted wooden changing rooms. Of course, the boys soon began drilling peepholes with sharp implements through its dividing wall. 

One morning I stood on the side of that bright blue pool, beat my chest, did a Tarzan call and dived in. But unlike the Lord of the Jungle, I landed unceremoniously on my head. After swallowing what seemed like gallons of chlorinated water, I thrashed my arms about and scrambled back up to daylight. As I stood knee-deep, my ears popped and buzzed. Shaking and coughing I opened my stinging eyes and noticed several dead flies, wasps and a soggy brown carpet of leaves float past. This experience put me off swimming for life.

Adjacent to our primary school in Teapot Lane stood a small corner shop. Every weekday, heaving queues of children would wave their pocket money under the nose of the agitated shopkeeper. Sometimes they wanted a bag of marbles, but often it was for Bazooka Joe chewing gum, Spangles or packets of sweet cigarettes.

In the playground girls would skip, jump and sing, while the boys would hold British Bulldog competitions or chant 'Join Up For War!' Flying footballs would ricochet off high fencing behind groups of boys clutching handfuls of conkers, marbles and bubblegum cards.

A few teachers of that school still remain in my memory. Mrs Corbett, Mrs Seymour, Miss Hardy and Mr Dyson. But it was Mr Mellor's lessons in one of the mobile wooden classrooms that stand out. Looking back now he seemed way ahead of his time. His wonderful storytelling was enhanced by his wife's beautiful illustrations. One week, just before our summer holidays, our class made a short ghost movie. Every pupil appeared in the film and operated the 8mm cine camera. Mr Mellor even showed us all how to create special effects. One technique was filming through the ripples of heat given off by the classroom's old oil heater. This gave the scene a dream-like quality. If that film still exists, I would love to see it again.

In 1966 there was much excitement at school when the opening sequence of the movie 'Half A Sixpence' was filmed in Aylesford Village. Aerials were taken off the roofs of many of the old houses near the church and many children took the day off school to watch Tommy Steele dancing over Aylesford Bridge.

As reported in the Kent Messenger, Mr Mellor bravely took 27 of our class on a week-long field study trip to Doddington Youth Hostel in April 1968. This was the first time it had been done and was successful - although I was very homesick. During the trip some of the girls played a netball match, we went to a waterworks, visited a church and explored the beautiful countryside. Mr Mellor was a fantastic teacher.

The newspaper article about the oppening has:

“Aylesford County Primary School completed nearly six years ago, was officially opened by the Dean of Rochester, the Rt. Rev. R. William Stannard, at a dedication service in the school’s assembly hall on Thursday.

 The school although in use for nearly six years has never been officially opened or dedicated. the ceremony was held over until a new wing, comprising three classrooms, was completed the last term.

 Costing more than £64,000 to build, the school designed by Maidstone architect Mr Dennis Darbison will accommodate about 400 pupils.

 In his opening address, the Dean spoke of the importance of “bringing God into the lives of all those who pass through the school. The dedication of this school is not just a ceremony,” he said.

 “It is something you will remember all your lives; when you are older, you will be proud to come back and say, ‘this is my old school.’

 ‘It is a fine and important thing that you think is right and necessary to have your school dedicated in the name of God.

 “We have offered this school to God and asked Him to help it and to guide its progress through the years,” the Dean said.

Guests present at the ceremony included Miss M Maplesden Noakes, vice-chairman of the Kent Education Committee, who proposed a vote of thanks to the Dean, Alderman W.G. Sherman, chairman of the Maidstone Divisional Executive for Education, Canon H. J. Powell, Vicar of Aylesford, Mr G. T. Heckels, Clerk to Kent County Council, and Councilor John Evans, Mayor-elect of Maidstone.

Guests were welcomed by the chairman of the school managers, Mr A. A. Howick, who presided at the opening ceremony”.

A Review of Dad's Burma War

 

Yesterday I received this fantastic review of my book from Mary Cole, a moderator on the WW2 Burma Research Site: 

"Well, Tony Wait, I have finally managed to finish reading your father's story in between gardening tasks and helping others with research.

You have every right to be proud of your father (4 Field Reg & 4 RWK’s) and your achievement in writing his story.

The level of detail is fantastic and I certainly recognise many of place names where your father and mine may well have come into contact.

The descriptions of happy times, Xmas dinner and rum rations are juxtaposed against the terrible conditions in which they found themselves and the constant need to keep morale high during the dreadful monsoon of 44 as well as detailed descriptions of their experiences in the Pegu Yomas, even after the war ended, really brought it home that war doesn’t end with a click of a finger.

I would also like to thank you for the acknowledgement at the back of the book. There really was no need, it was a privilege to help in a small way and an absolute privilege to read this memoir".

Another Satisfied Customer

Another satisfied customer… 

Hello Tony,

I’m just home and had chance to glance through your presentation folder. It looks fantastic, thank you once again for your hard work, I am so happy with what you have discovered.

Michael Feeney

 

From Shoreditch to Axminster

I often wonder how my 4xgreat aunt felt on her wedding day in 1828, as she walked up the aisle of the ancient church in the village of Molland, on the southern border of Exmoor. Ann Wait must have felt a world away from the grimy streets of Shoreditch, in London’s East End, where she had been born. Did her father escort her? This was her second marriage and as she gazed around the box pews, did she see any other members of her family that had managed to travel the 200 miles to see her?

Piecing back together the lives of my ancestors and those of my clients gives me great satisfaction and this particular historical journey is yet another example of how interesting it can be.

Ann was baptised in St. Leonard’s Church, Shoreditch on Christmas Day 1797. She was one of four children of John Wait (1765-1831) and Ann Wheatley (1766-1840). John seems to have been a reasonably successful carpenter and paid around 10 shillings a year for a property in New Inn Street. I even found him listed as a member of Freemasons at the Lodge of Good Intent in the Ship Tavern in Leadenhall Street.

How Ann met her first husband, William Bowden Quartly, will no doubt remain a mystery, although members of the Quartly family were living around Shoreditch and the Lambeth area at that time. But the couple were married at St George’s Church, Botolph Lane, in Billingsgate, Middlesex on 27th July 1820. Ann seems to have signed the register quite tentatively compared to the confident flourish of her new husband.

Quartly was described as a yeoman farmer and gentleman in the village of Molland, Devon. But sadly his marriage to Ann only lasted three years. He died at the beginning of 1823 and was buried in St. Mary’s graveyard, Molland on the 5th February of that year. His gravestone still stands and is legible.

In that short time, Ann and William had two children, Sarah Ann and William Bowden junior. Sarah later married Henry Weekes a former ship's surgeon and William farmed 50 acres in Bickington, 20 miles from Molland, with his wife Anne.

So, five years later, on the 30 August 1828, Ann married William Gunn in the beautiful medieval church of St. Mary’s on a hill overlooking the picture-postcard village of Molland. Inside the church, she would have no doubt noticed the carved timber wall tablet above the squire’s pew, dedicated to members of the Quartly family - her previous husband’s family.

The 1841 Census shows Ann and William Gunn in Oakford near Tiverton, approximately 10 miles from Molland. William’s occupation is that of a school teacher and they now have a son, Frederick, born and baptised in Molland. Anne’s daughter Sarah Quartly is also living with them. 

In 1851 Ann and William were living on their own. Ann’s daughter Sarah had married Henry Weekes in 1845 and Frederick was working as a chemist’s assistant in Middlesex. The census also gives Anne’s place of birth as Shoreditch and William’s in Rackenford, Devon.

The sad news of the death of Ann’s eldest brother 

William Valentine Wait in the early weeks of 1857 was probably delivered by the newly formed Penny Post. William was an unmarried barristers clerk from Marylebone in London. His last will reveals that he had made Ann is sole executrix and states:

“I give to my sister Ann Gunn the wife of Mr Gunn of Oakford Bampton in the County of Devon, School-Master, five silver tablespoons, twelve teaspoons, four salt spoons, caddy spoon and sugar tongs and all other, my plate and plated articles and things except my plated castor stand”.

Ann and her husband were also beneficiaries of £200 a year from her brother’s life annuity, so they must have been fairly comfortable in their later years. This might have given them the financial incentive to move to Axminster, 40 miles from Oakford, where their son Frederick was a chemist.

Ann died in Axminster in 1867. She was buried in Axminster Cemetery and the memorial is still there (grave number 403). The inscription reads:

‘In affectionate remembrance of Ann wife of William Gunn. Died January 28th 1867. Also of the above named William Gunn who died March 21st 1870.’

Another Happy Customer

 

Another satisfied customer…

‘Hi Tony,

I have just received your folder covering my grandfathers ancestral history. On glancing through it, it is exactly what I’m looking for, so a very big thank you for your research. 

Are you still in a position to research my grandmother’s?’

From

Michael Feeney.

Contact me at tonywait@hotmail.com or pm me on here if you want to learn your ancestry.

Dad and The Dirty Half Hundred

 

At 2:30 am on this day seventy-seven years ago my father was facing another screaming attack by Japanese soldiers around a garrison set up on the grounds of a Deputy Commissioner's bungalow in India. It was overlooked by a series of small hills near the town of Kohima. Along with his regiment, he was involved in a siege that lasted a fortnight. It involved fighting described as 'desperate as any recorded in history.'

Most people have never heard of the Siege of Kohima. Probably because it was fought by men involved in the Burma campaign, 'the forgotten army', whose story has never been given the glitzy Holywood treatment, like many military events of WWII.  It was hardly reported at the time, the people of Britain were facing enough perils of their own, yet two Victoria crosses were awarded and Lord Mountbatten described it as one of the greatest battles in history.

Those that have read my recent book will know that my father, Samuel Wait 614883 was flown to Imphal with the rest of the 161 Brigade when the Japanese launched a major offensive to invade India. At Kohima, the Japanese hurled three infantry regiments, of over 6,000 men at the Fourth Battalion of the Royal West Kents. Together with what they called the 'odds and sods' the West Kents, known as "The Dirty Half Hundred," formed a scratch garrison of approximately 1,500. So began the siege of Kohima, one of the pivotal fights of the war against Japan.

The siege, which a Japanese colonel would later call, 'that great bitter battle', lasted for a fortnight, with hand-to-hand combat, fierce and ruthless, by 'filthy bedraggled, worn-out men, whose lungs were rarely free of the noxious smell of decaying corpses inside and out the perimeter'. By the night of the 18th April 1944, the Japanese had cut the garrison in two with wave after wave of attacks. They were everywhere, in all the trenches and just one hundred yards from the Battalion Headquarters that held 600 hundred casualties.

If the Japanese were to achieve the great prize, the blooming rose of eastern India, they would first have to grasp the thorn of the hill station at Kohima. The Indian Official History records that the whole defence was about to crumble and the perimeter had been reduced to a little square with each side being no more than 350 yards. The tennis court became the front line between attacker and defender and where tennis balls had been idly lobbed, grenades whizzed back and forth across the width of the court.

When I asked dad how he felt during this siege, he replied, "I did not want to let my mates down".  His Commanding Officer, Major John Winstanley later explained that they had no idea that they were confronted by a whole Japanese division. But they had no thought of surrender at any level.

The garrison did not fall. The thin line of the West Kents held. On the morning of the 20th April, the Royal Berkshire Regiment relieved the garrison and witnessed little groups of grimy, bearded rifleman standing at the mouths of their bunkers and staring with bloodshot sleep-starved eyes. The siege was finally over. My father and the rest of the shattered West Kents went down the hill in two's and three's. They had fought and lived in trenches for almost a fortnight. For rest, they had thrown themselves on the ground with their boots on, ready to fight at a moments notice. 

This epic battle was a decisive turning point in the Burma Campaign. It demonstrated categorically that the Japanese were not invincible. Major General William Slim, Commander of the 14th Army later said that "sieges have been longer, but few have been more intense, and in none have the defenders deserved greater honour than the garrison of Kohima."

Today, the cemetery in Kohima is located exactly where the battle took place. There are two memorial crosses. One is dedicated to the Indian and Sikh soldiers, the other has the epitaph:

'When You Go Home, Tell Them Of Us And Say,

For Your Tomorrow, We Gave Our Today.'

My father survived this horrific siege and remained in Burma fighting with the 14th Army until August 1946. By then, the Japanese had been driven out of Burma and surrendered. 

 

Blowing My Trumpet!

 

O.K time to blow my own trumpet! I recently received this from a client, regarding my research into his family tree:

“What can I say? This is an amazing piece of work, the detail is nothing short of incredible. My fathers side of the family has always been sketchy, but, thanks to you, it has all come to light. I can't thank you enough”.

Craig Robinson

My Dad’s Burma War

I have finally had a book published about my dad’s experiences in Burma during WWII. It has been a labour of love that has taken me over two years to complete.

Like many war veterans dad rarely spoke about his experiences with the ‘forgotten’ 14th Army. Thankfully, I did manage to jot down a few of his memories, until mum warned me that my questions were triggering his nightmares. After he passed away I ordered his military papers. But they contained almost unintelligible military abbreviations.

As a genealogist, we are taught to use prime and secondary sources whenever possible. So I located and researched his regimental diaries, deciphered the abbreviations and studied the Burma Campaign. Gradually it all came together and I found myself following in his footsteps. I can’t contain my pride in his bravery. His experiences in the Arakan attacking Razabil Fortress (along with Captain Tom Moore), the battle of the Admin Box, the Siege of Kohima, Imphal, the Race to Rangoon and so much more.

But to create this book I needed to reproduce old maps and various images. As this is a self-published book the formatting and editing was a major headache. But thanks to the incredible skill and hard work of my fiancee Jules, we were able to overcome this and get the book published. She never met my father but was pleased to contribute to his memory.

Dad fought with a ‘forgotten’ army. But now future generations of his family and friends will learn of his incredible bravery. 

If you would like a copy of this book please email me. 

 

In between researching the family history of my clients, I like to delve into my ancestry. This has resulted in several popular blog posts. So for this article, I have decided to travel back to the year 1763. During this period, George III purchased Buckingham Palace and made a Royal Proclamation limiting the expansion of the American colonies. But, I am going to focus on a particular wedding held in the East End of London. 

David Wait a carpenter of New Inn Yard, Shoreditch (c.1738-1793) and Eleanor Wait nee Rice (1737-1793) were my 5xGreat Grandparents and were married in the newly built Christ Church Spitalfields, in London’s East End on the 6th February 1763. Christ Church was one of the fifty churches urgently commissioned, with the backing of Queen Ann, through fear that the ‘godless thousands’ outside the City of London had no access to a nearby church.

I always get excited to see the signatures of my ancestors, this is often the only 'physical' thing they have left us, yet it can hold clues to the times they were living in and their personality. Today, the ability to read and write is accepted as normal. Being illiterate is regarded as shameful. During this time, literacy was considered a luxury. It would not be until the 1870s -1880s that education became compulsory. But, both David and Eleanor have signed the register confidently and with flourishes.

The parish register indicates that David Wait was from the parish of Spitalfields, but Eleanor was ‘of the Liberty of Norton Folgate’. This was land owned and originally occupied by the Priory and Hospital of St Mary Spital. Although the priory was dissolved in 1538 the area retained its status as extra-parochial liberty. Included in its particular boundary was White Lyon Yard, now Folgate Street where Eleanor and her family lived.

Eleanor Rice was baptised on the 9th March 1737 at St. Leonard’s Church, Shoreditch. Her parents were Walter Rice (1712-1749) a Glove Maker and Mary Rice nee Offin (b.1713) of White Lyon Yard, Norton Folgate. Surviving London Tax Records show that Walter Rice of Norton Folgate paid 16 shillings annually from 1743-1749.

Walter and Mary’s marriage took place in Fleet, London on 19th August 1734. Intriguingly, it was a ‘clandestine marriage’. Historians estimate that by the early 18th Century a third of all marriages were irregular or clandestine, with nearly half in London, performed at or around Fleet Prison. 

Although they complied with English Common Law and were valid, they were cheaper than a parish church wedding, did not need parental consent, banns were not read, could be held in secret and even backdated! They were banned by the Marriages Act of 1754.

So why did Walter and Mary have a ‘Fleet Wedding?

I have yet another mystery to solve.