14th February 1994

Dear Stephen

 
Auntie Barbara has asked me to type up these intriguing ‘snippets’ of family history. I am so glad all this information is now on paper to be preserved for us and future generations. I only regret that I did not start gathering some information much earlier when my grandpa (George Francis Gadd) and mother (Muriel Jessie Gay) were alive. My Grandpa was the only grandparent I ever knew,but I knew him very well. He used to come and spend Saturday and Sunday with us when we lived at Brislington (1940 -- 1950). On Saturday evening I would often go back with him and spend the night at 8 Park Row, where he lived above his Dental Depot. It was a Sunday morning ritual to go up the road to the newsagents to buy the papers and, always, 4 packets of Rowntrees fruit gums (those in tubes) for me, before setting out for Brislington on the bus.

In those days there was a wonderful view from the office at the back of the shop at Park Row - you could see right across the Centre, out to St. Mary Redcliffe and Bedminster beyond. I remember my brother being there when the Bristol Hippodrome was burning - he had a grandstand view.

My grandfather always came to visit at weekends until he died in 1965, aged 87. We lived in Redland Rd. (1950 - 1959) and then at Brentry, Bristol (1959 - 1973). He lived at Park Row all this time, though he sold the business at some time (I can’t remember when), but continued to live in the flat above. Several years ago my brother reported that he had walked down Park Row and noticed the metal number 8 that my grandfather had fixed to the side door, leading to the flat, was still there. I suspect it will have gone now.

My brother and I have ‘unearthed’ some interesting family photographs, which I am hoping I can get copied to send you. There is one which we think must be old George Gadd (my great grandfather). Auntie Barbara will be able to confirm this. There is also one of my grandpa as a young man. Both of these are studio portraits and very clear. There is also a very good one of my grandpa and my grandmother (Jessie Hartshorne) with, I think, my mother as a baby. There is also a very good photograph of Eva Hartshorne - I should think it was taken when she was in her twenties or thirties. Auntie Barbara will help here. It has an interesting newspaper cutting on the back about her being presented with a ‘handsome’ cheque (I wonder what ‘handsome’ was in those days?) for her singing services to Cotham Wesleyan Chapel. There are also a couple of pictures with your grandfather (my Uncle John) in them.

I hope you will be able to make more progress with tracing the family history - particularly the Hartshorne-Hemus branch. I also find the Cafferies interesting. Anyway I think our family has been quite fun and it is interesting to be able to identify talents and characteristics in the present generation which have come down from the past.

All this has set me off now and I have got my Auntie Mary Gay (now 83), my father’s sister, tracing their family history and recording her memories onto a dictaphone for me to type up.

I hope all this is helpful to you. I shall be interested to hear how you are progressing. With my best wishes to you and Linda

Love

[PENNY]
( I think we must be cousins, once removed. I know your dad is my cousin. We were born in the same year (1940) - I in February and he in October).
____________

To Stephen Gadd

Re your family tree:

I am puzzled that you give Alice Hemus as born in Shrewsbury. It is not impossible, but people didn’t move about a great deal in those days, and Mother always said that her mother came from “the Malvern area.” The date c. 1849 is roughly right - she died in 1900 of external breast cancer (caused by an accidental blow), when she was “in her early fifties.” I once asked my mother (I was about 5, I think) what her mother looked like. She said, “She was a little woman with a merry laugh - you are like her.” I have never heard that she was a dressmaker. y mother served a full apprenticeship as a dressmaker and tailoress at a firm called Cordieux in Clifton (they also had a shop in the Horsefair before the 2nd World War - drapers and clothing - they had their own workshop.) Mother walked to Clifton daily from Totterdown - she was a good walker and enjoyed walking - my father didn’t. He had flat feet. However, my mother did not practise as a dressmaker after her marriage, except in the family. In those days husbands were expected to support wives, and a working wife reflected on his earning ability.

In 1956 I helped with a holiday for girls at a prep school near Tewkesbury (west or north-west of it). At the village church there was a memorial tablet on the outside wall with the name Hemus on it - I think more than one Hemus. I can’t remember the name of the church - it was in a hamlet rather than a village - I have looked at my Motoring Atlas and it might have been Naunton, but I really can’t remember. I asked the vicar if there were any Hemuses left there, and he said the last survivor was an old lady in a nursing home in Cheltenham and gave me her address. I wrote what I hoped was a very careful, tactful letter to her, explaining why I was trying to trace my grandmother’s family, but had no answer. She y have been too old. Also, people aren’t always keen on such enquiries in case one is a fortune-hunters If you ever have the time, I would suggest exploring the area between Tewkesbury and Malvern. The distance isn’t great.

My mother’s second name wasn’t Jessica - it was Jessie - I have a copy of her birth certificate. This gives her name as Flora Jessie, but she was always called Jessie. On the birth certificate it gives her mother’s name as Alice Hannah Hartshorne (formerly Hemus) - so the Hannah may narrow down the search for her. Their address is given as Montgomery St., Bristol.

Grandpa Hartshorne (Frederick) was born about 1820. Your 1838 is wrong - probably Northfield is wrong also. (Is this Northfield a district now in S. Birmingham?) He y have been born or lived in Birmingham - we simply don’t know - but he definitely spent time in or near Manchester as he talked about the Halle concerts he went to. He died in 1904 - exact age not known, but he was a very old man. The doctor estimated his age at 84 or so. (He was too old to give my mother away at her wedding in Sept. 1903.) He was much older than Alice. My parents took him to live with them when they married - they lived first in the Triangle opposite whatever the multiple store is now called - it has been Bobby’s and Bright’s and I don’t know what. (?Now Dingles).

We have known for some time that he and Alice probably weren’t married. I tried to trace their marriage certificate at Somerset House in the early Sixties. I had a search from about 1876 (Auntie Eva was born in 1877) for 5 years. The man who replied that there was no record told me not to ask for a further search. He said that the names Hartshorne and Hemus were so unusual that he had done this of his own accord. i.e. they weren’t married unless they had married abroad or at sea. Father and I agreed that the latter were unlikely and he said they obviously had some secret to hide. He tried repeatedly when Frederick was old (and wandering a bit) to get information, but the old boy always shut him up with, “What do you want to know for?” Both Fredreick and Alice were active Christian people, probably Nonconformists, so we did not suspect any criminal activity. Father said that Frederick said he had been brought up by grandparents after he was orphaned as a child. The grandmother was a singer, and sang by royal command before the then Queen. This was probably Charlotte-Sophia of Mecklenburg Strelitz - the wife of George III, who reigned from 1760 - 1820. His son, George TV the Prince Regent married Caroline of Brunswick. I don’t know when she died - my encyclopaedia says “his married life was unfortunate.” Anyway there is a nice bit of research for you.

Frederick was bronchial. (This passed to Auntie Eva and to some extent to my brother - your grandfather.) He was very musical. The whole family sang - they went round ‘Bright Sunday Afternoons’ singing together - I don’t know how, with only one man. Aunt was a soprano, my mother a contralto. He could play several instruments - organ, piano, violin. Mother used to say that on Sundays he got up first to get breakfast for the family. First there arose the smell of bacon frying, then came the sound of the organ being played, then the smell of bacon burning, and the sudden cessation of the organ. My father said that it was plain that boot-making etc. wasn’t his original occupation. He guessed that he had taken it up when something else failed. My father’s impression was that at some stage he had left home after some disagreement or frustration that he didn’t want to talk about. I have a hazy idea that I was told he may in his youth have wanted to enter the ministry and been foiled, but I may be wrong here. Anyway there is still a mystery because - assuming that he took up with Alice Hemus about 1875 or 76, he was already then well into his fifties and must have been earning his living for a long time. Of course, he may have had a wife and family that he left for Alice - or before he met Alice. It might be as well not to go searching for their descendants!

When you were at The Royal Northern College I thought of asking you to search the Manchester record office in case he was born there, but felt we hadn’t really enough data to go on.

I thought Auntie Minnie’s birthday was April 13, same as Harold’s. We used to remark on the three children (don’t know Sydney’s month) all being born in April, the last two, with 18 years between then on the same day. Her son Stuart will know if it’s important.

The Gadd Side of the Family

James Milliner

Lived at or near Melksham in Wiltshire. My father said there was some land in the Box area (father thought near the Box G.W.R. tunnel) belonging to the Milliners which was lost to the family because the deeds were lost. I don’t know whether he was a farmer or minor land-owner, but I get the impression that they were passably well-off. At some stage in the 19th century he took his family by coach to Plymouth and they took ship to Jamaica. One of the sons married a Jamaican woman (coloured) and settled there. (If this ws George, the eldest, I know nothing about the Colorado bit). James later returned to England with the rest of the family. I had forgotten there were so many Revs. I think they were probably Nonconformist because Everes was (ie Mrs. Caffery), and so, of course, was my grandmother Gadd - I am not sure what denomination, though at some point she and my grandfather settled at Old King Street Baptist Church in Bristol (pulled down in Broadmead shopping area development. A British Home Store is on the site), possibly after the Rev. Mof fat Logan became minister. He drew large congregations and was very attractive to young people. I think that is where my parents met when they were about 18 (ie George Francis Gadd and Jessie Hartshorne).

I remember Great great aunt Sarah when she was a very old lady. She lived in a cottage near the Green at Westbury, Wilts. The cottage backed on to the church (we went up the tower one day through the bell-chamber), and had fresh white spotted muslin curtains at the windows. I think I was 3½. Great great aunt Sarah was a gentle old lady - I think she wore a small white cap on her head. I was astonished when a little older to be told (by father) that in her girl-hood she tried to run away to Gretna Green with her lover, but father Milliner went after them (on horseback? in some wheeled carriage?) and brought her back. In pique, she married Mr. Scull, who was an illiterate farmer or farm-worker. I don’t remember meeting him - he probably predeceased his wife. My impression from hearsay is of a quiet, possibly rather sad sort of man, who used to talk to his animals when he wanted sympathy. I well remember their son, Uncle Arthur. He used to visit us and was kind and jolly. My sister once disgraced herself when a toddler, because Uncle Arthur came to tea, and my sister kept saying: “I don’t like that man. He’s got a face like a monkey!” (He had, but a nice one. He was small-built.) Mother and Aunt (Auntie Eva) were trying to distract her, when Father (unconscious of the childish chatter) said to Uncle Arthur, “What are you going to do tomorrow? What about a visit to the Zoo?” Uncle Arthur’s sister Louie (Everes Louise) we thought rather mouldy - she looked like a repressed, sad spinster, and her clothes were rather frumpy. On Christopher’s family tree he has pencilled in ‘nurse’ under her name. I can’t confirm this - she didn’t seem like a nurse. I am wondering if he has confused her with my great aunt Louie (Louise Brown, Grandma’s sister.) She was a nurse - she was matron of one of the big London Hospitals. I remember her as an old lady. She visited us when we lived at 65A Park Street (1916 - 1926) - I must have been 3- 5. She was stoutish, and wore black satin and had an ear trumpet, because she was deaf. This was rather daunting, though I think she was a cheerful and kindly woman. (An ear-trumpet was like the tubing of a barrel vacuum cleaner - one end held to the ear, the other held out to be spoken through - each end suitably shaped, of course). We each had to speak to her through this, but I don’t recall attempting any lengthy conversation. I hardly knew her and was probably rather shy. Her husband, Uncle Jamie, gave me a lovely animal book.

My impression is that there were some clever and forceful women on the Milliner side of the family. There used to be a photograph album in my father’s family, with some of the women in it - they had long, rather horsey faces. Uncle Harold had this album - his daughter, Jenifer Manners y still have it, though the photographs may well be faded.

Caffery

The eldest Milliner daughter, Everes, married William Caffery, an Irishman from Cork, in Bristol. According to their eldest daughter (my Grandma Gadd) he was rather a mistake. The story was that my Great grandmother and a friend, both in service, went to a dance with their respective young men (modern ‘boy-friends’). Caffery was the other girl’s friend. For fun, they swapped boyfriends for the evening, and never swapped back. (Thus is family history made!) Grandma thought the other chap was a loss - they all remained friends and she knew him - he seems to have been a conventionally respectable, decent sort of man. (Grandma Gadd seems to have had a ‘thing’ about respectability - she pushed my father into the drapery business when he left the Merchant Venturers’ School at 15 - she thought a shop-walker was at the height of gentlemanly respectability. A shop-walker wore a frock coat, welcomed customers and led ladies to a chair, and called up an assistant to assist Moddam’ . In the year he stuck it, Father learnt to roll an umbrella neatly and to be tactful with ladies buying corsets who liked to think their waist was smaller than it was - can’t think how he came to be selling corsets at 15!) Great grandfather Caffery was an Irishman from Cork and a Roman Catholic - excommunicated because he married a Protestant and did not have the children brought up R.C. He seems to have been a casual, happy-go-lucky sort of chap - he had a shop, but I don’t know what he sold. Presumably he was able to support his wife and eight children, if they all grew up. He used to say: “No-one ever says, ‘Take your time, Caffery. There’s no hurry, Caffery.’ It’s always ‘Come on, Caffery. Hurry up, Caffery.” When family life got too much for Everes she would retire to bed for a day or so. Grandma Gadd had been educated, better than her husband George, who left school at the age of 10 - no compulsory, free schooling until 1872 or 3, though I think denominational schools were free before that - not sure. According to my father, Grandpa Gadd loved reading aloud to his family from the newspaper. If he came to a word he didn’t know, he ignored it and went on regardless - much to his wife’s exasperation.

Benjamin Caffery

Became a sailor in the Merchant Navy. He once missed his ship at Marseilles, and as he knew no French, walked up and down the quay singing, “Johnny come home to your uncle,” till someone took him to the British consul. He used to visit Grandma when on leave - or when his ship docked at Bristol. Father said if he came late he climbed in through a window and there he was in bed in the morning. He seems to have been popular with the children.

My feeling is that Great grandfather Caffery’s Irish imagination and humour ‘leavened the lump’ of the Milliner genes. He was probably the source of ‘the sight’ or psychic gifts. Grandma Gadd had it. When her father died, her children (Father and Auntie Minnie) were still young. Grandpa stayed at the house, but she had to return to be with the children. (Grandpa Gadd did not like being with the dying, but enjoyed laying out the body etc.). When he arrived home quite late in the evening, he said to Grandma, “Well, he’s gone.” “I know,” she said, “he died at 9.30.” “How do you know?” he asked. “Oh,” she said, “he put his head round the door and said, ‘Goodnight, (using his pet Irish name for her.)” I don’t think any of her children were psychic - they were all rather down-to-earth in some ways, though my father had imagination. But we three - Muriel, John and I - I especially - all got the psychic bit, and so has Penny Gay, but not Tim. My father said that as a child I had a way of saying, “Wouldn’t it be funny if so and so came to call?” naming someone not seen for some time, and, behold, they did. Father took this calmly because he was used to his mother. My more hair-raising experiences I kept to myself, but took them remarkably calmly. My sister experienced flying round the bedroom ceiling when going to sleep (astral travel). I don’t remember Grandma Gadd (died in Bristol General Hospital in the Spring of 1916) though I can recall some things before that. I think Auntie Minnie probably took after her, and the images may have blurred in my mind. We had a framed photograph of Auntie Minnie’s wedding to Uncle Willie (Jones) on Boxing Day 1906, standing or sitting on upright chairs rather stiffly in the snow! Our copy perished long since, but Harold may have had one - he was probably a page boy, and Jenifer Manners might have a copy. My cousin, Stuart may have one, though not very likely. Grandpa and Grandma Gadd must have been in it. Stuart (Auntie Minnie’s son) is still living in Bristol, and y have some photos, or may not. Women tend to keep old photos more than men. Harold was more interested in the family history than my father, and he and Auntie Minnie kept more links with the Milliner side.

Kate Caffery married William Gunn

Daughter Everes Elizabeth (known as Cissie). I think Cissie’s parents must have died when she was young because she was brought up by her Aunt Louise (Louie — my Grandma’s sister) and her husband James Brown (Uncle Jamie). They lived in London. I remember Father telling us in the 1st World War that Aunt Louie insisted on their sleeping with a chair (?armchair) over their heads as a protection against zeppelin raids I We thought this was very funny. Cissie used to stay with Auntie Minnie from time to time.


The Jamaican Milliners

I do not recall any links with them in my young days.

Hannah Milliner married ? Urch and they emigrated to Australia.

Hannah was (according to Christopher’s family tree) the fifth child of James and Elizabeth Milliner. When we were on holiday in Bournemouth in 1920 (my father was attending a dental exhibition. Stuart was there, so presumably Uncle Willie and Auntie Minnie were there) we met two Urch girls (in their early twenties, I should think). They were fair-haired and jolly. One of them - I recall her as plump - went into the sea wearing her gold wrist watch (by mistake, of course) and treated it as a huge joke. (Perhaps the Urches got rich in Australia). This is just an isolated memory. On the family tree there are two girls called Gladys and Millie, grand-daughters of Hannah, but no dates are given. Their mother Millie married a man called McIntyre. (Some Mclntyres are northern Irish).

The Gadds

My grandfather George Gadd married the eldest Caffery, Mary Ellen Nora. According to my father, George’s father, John Gadd, moved to Bristol from Gloucestershire and learnt the upholstery and mattress business from a man he met in a pub. who taught him (or possibly inspired him) to learn the business, in exchange for a pint of beer - maybe several.

I have no idea of dates. If your note (on my birthday card) is correct, and I expect it is, George was born after they settled in Bristol. If they only moved from St. George, they didn’t have far to go! I have found Bragg’s Lane - it runs from the junction of West Street (a continuation of Old Markey Street) and Clarence Street. to Lawford St. and Redcross St. Do we know when John or George moved to Elibroad St? Certainly the impression I got from my father was that John Gadd lived in the same area. As John appears to have died in December 1879, my father - born in April 1878, would hardly have remembered him, except from hearsay. This was that John Gadd was a very big man, tall and broad and weighing something like 18 or 20 stone. His death was accidental. He stopped in the street one day to talk to a friend, and was standing with one foot on the pavement and one in the gutter, when a small boy could not resist the temptation to run through the archway thus formed. Unfortunately, in doing so he threw John Gadd off balance and the fall killed him. (I suppose he fractured his skull on the kerb.) John Gadd would not have his photo taken when alive, so his relatives got a photographer to photograph him as he lay dead on his bed, and then touch it up to make him look alive. This was not very successful. This photo was in the family album (ref. Jenifer Manners). It was clear that his son George resembled him quite a lot facially. George was of average height and stockily built - a thick-set man. He had typhoid fever when he was 17, and was ill for 4 months (I think in hospital), but was never ill again till his death in 1923 (he died in the B.R.I. after an operation for bowel cancer, which seemed to strike quite suddenly.) Part of his work was ‘purifying’ bedding - of bed bugs or after infectious illness. He had a large oven for this purpose at Ellbroad St. His wife predicted that he or his family would catch some fatal infection, but that didn’t happen. (When I was abroad as a missionary, it was accepted experience that anyone who had typhoid and survived was immune from infection for the rest of their lives. It certainly seemed to be so in his case).

Grandpa Gadd was an impulsive man. Apparently, when he and Nora (Mary Ellen Nora Caffery) married (they must have been young if they married in 1872 - he 22 and she 17) they lived in rooms. One day he arrived home and told his wife they were moving - at once. While she was twittering, he piled their things on a handcart and trundled off. When she caught up with him at the new place, everything was in order and the kettle boiling on the hob. Grandpa was an early riser. One morning when Grandma got up she found that the lower part of the staircase had vanished and she was expected to complete her descent down a step-ladder. When she protested, Grandpa thought she was making an unnecessary fuss. He was very gregarious and loved chatting to all and sundry. One of his favourite pastimes was going by train to wherever he fancied - maybe starting early and returning late. It was the trains he enjoyed. Sometimes he took the family. One of his expressions was, “Cannum get up when they be going anywhere?” (cannum = can’t they). I suspect his speech may have been country style, not just Bristol. Father had a tale of how, aged about 15 and self-conscious, he was once sent to meet a woman relative from a bus. Who she was or where from, I don’t know, but on arriving at Ellbroad St., she said to my grandmother: “I says to him, ‘Gie yer yarm, Jarge.’ So he gied us his yarm. And, no sooner had he gied us his yarm, than he wanted to blaw his nawse.” My father didn’t want to be seen arming a stout countrywoman through the streets.

I did not get to know Grandpa Gadd very well, because after Grandma died in 1916 he became rather quiet and introverted, I think. He was kind to us in a distant way. We went to Ellbroad St. sometimes on a Saturday afternoon - the living room was upstairs. I don’t think we went up much. He kept 3 horses in the stables. There was a speaking-tube between the living room and the office area downstairs which we thought fun. One blew a whistle to attract attention. (I kept away from the horses. I was afraid they would kick). They had a parrot upstairs when my father was a boy - probably a present from sailor uncle Ben Caffery. They also had a dog, which was not allowed upstairs. The parrot would whistle the dog up, then when it appeared say sternly, “Go down, sir. Go down.” No sooner did the dog reach the bottom stair, than the parrot would whistle him up again. This would go on, till someone threw a cloth over the parrot’s cage. Either this dog - or another - had the trick of letting any visitor enter without objection, but when they rose to leave, he got between them and the door and wouldn’t let them go till ordered off. Grandpa had a trap for his own use, and used to drive it round Bristol. When he died in January 1923, I was home from school with a cold. On the day of the funeral, Auntie Eva took me (we were in Park St.) to Park Row to see the cortege pass from Old King St. Baptist Church to Canford Cemetery. Apparently I said (but do not recall it - I was just 9), “Mustn’t it be fun to sit on a cloud and watch your own funeral?”

When my father was a small boy, he developed a rash on his head, and his mother took him to the doctor - Dr. W.G. Grace, the cricketer. He said, she thought in some disgust, “Mother, your child has ringworm.” She felt very ashamed, though he probably picked it up from other children. He went to Redcross St. School, till he went, between the ages 11 - 15, to the Merchant Venturers School, just behind College Green (Orchard St./Denmark St.) When he left school, he had a drapery job for a year, and then moved into the dental trade. He enjoyed the medical-scientific side, but said the safest jobs were either in the food trade or in undertaking, (as everyone has to eat and die).

Auntie Minnie’s husband, Willie Jones, was a dentist, as was his father before him, and so were his brothers. They married on Boxing Day, 1906. Stuart was the only child, because Auntie Minnie had an abnormally long vagina. Stuart was a pleasant surprise when he arrived in May 1913. Auntie Minnie was very stout and subject to epileptic-like fits - though I don’t think they were actual epilepsy. The cause was being dropped on her head by a maid when she was a baby. This caused thickening of the skull which set up pressure on the brain. The problems started when she was 18 - the fits were controlled by tablets.. She was offered an operation, but it would have been very risky in those days, so she refused. It was unfortunate, because she loved people and social activities - she always said she would love to have managed a hotel.

May Menefie

Going back to Chris’s family tree - May Menefie was a granddaughter of Rev. James Milliner. She was Hannah Milliner’s daughter, but her father’s name isn’t given. Hannah was Grandma Gadd’s cousin. I remember May Menefie - she lived at Brislington, and mother and I visited her sometimes. (I think Harold kept in touch with her later). She was a widow, and - rather oddly, I thought - kept her husband’s ashes in an urn on the mantlepiece.

Auntie Eva (Eva Hilda Hartshorne, born 6.2.77. died Feb. 1932)

Married (i) Bertram Clapp - I don’t know the date. (It was after my parents married.) They lived in a flat near Clifton Gate. The marriage did not last long, because Bert died of heart disease. I don’t think he had any connection with the musical world. No children. So she was Mrs. Clapp until 1929, but professionally used her single name with the title Madam ie Madam Eva Hartshorne. She had a beautiful - and rather unusual - soprano voice - a pity it was not recorded. She was trained to be a performer. I don’t know who her teacher was. Aunt (as we called her) had no ‘bump of location’ whatsoever. She used to say that once she was a soloist in an oratorio at Weston-super-Mare. Returning to her lodgings after rehearsal she couldn’t remember the address or where it was, and wasted time getting there. This subsequently made her late for the performance, and, rather embarrassed, she had to walk on to the platform and sit down at the front with the other soloists after the choir had started. When she went to her lesson the following week, her teacher greeted her with, “My dear, what did you do at Weston?” She was getting up courage to explain her gaffe, when he went on to say he had received glowing reports on her performance. Unfortunately she had inherited from her father a bronchial tendency, and at some point it was found that she had had a T.B. spot on her lung, though it had healed. This put paid to her career as a professional singer, though she continued to perform intermittently. She took up teaching singing and the piano - this was all right at first, especially while she was well-known in Bristol, but after we moved fron Park St. in 1926, she had fewer pupils, probably mainly because by then people were demanding paper qualifications (L.R.A.M. etc.), and she had not acquired these because she was trained as a performer. I am not sure when Aunt started living with my parents. She was there at 13 Hartington Park (nr. Redland Green), where I was born, and on till her marriage in 1929. I know her bronchitis seemed to get worse when we lived at 44 Zetland Rd. (Sept. 1926 - May 1929 - this house belonged to Uncle Willie who practised dentistry there twice a week - it was quite a big house and he had a waiting room and surgery). In April 1929 Aunt married Thomas Neale (your great grandfather). They lived in Guinea St. I think Don and Tommy were still at home, but your grandmother Mary was working as a children’s nurse part of the time, at Melksham. Aunt had bronchitis early in 1932 - it turned into pneumonia with other complications and she died in Southmead Hospital. My mother had already had one attack from the intestinal cancer from which she died in August that year, so Aunt’s death was a great shock to her. So it was a sad time. I remember my parents coming back from the hospital the evening she died. A voice on radio sang, “Oh for the wings of a dove,” and father remembered Aunt singing it.

So that is how your grandmother Mary met my brother. Their courtship lasted till their marriage at St. Michael’s and All Angels Church at Horfield in Bristol in 1936. (That is why your dad is called Michael; and Stephen because he was christened on Boxing Day, having been born in an air-raid in Oct. 1940 - a large chunk of shrapnel fell in the garden of the nursing home which was somewhere near the bottom of Cotham Brow.

My mother learnt to play the violin as a girl. She brought two rather decrepit violins with her when she married. My brother resurrected the better of these when he was about 10, and quietly, without a word to anyone, set about repairing it (using his pocket money). Eventually, he got a bow, and taking violin and bow to my mother asked her to show him the fingering. He had learnt the piano, because Aunt taught us all, but the violin became his passion. When he had taught himself to play, he asked to have lessons, and was sent to a very good teacher. I think John may have borne some physical likeness to Grandpa Hartshorne. I think Aunt took after her father and mother took after her mother (see photo of Eva and Jessie in their late teens). NB. My brother got the nickname ‘Jack’, because when little he was a child of few words. Grandma Gadd was playing with him one day and said,”What’s your name?” He said, “Dack Gadd.” She was delighted because she had wanted him to be called John after his Great grandfather. So we called him Jack at home, till he was 12, when Mother thought we should drop the baby nick-name and call him Kenneth. However, instead - for no clear reason - we called him John, which remained his family name ever afterwards. Outside the family he was called Kenneth.
(My father was Frank to the family and friends, but George to Business associates).

Barbara Gadd

3 . 2 . 94

Re photographs February 1994

I expect my Gadd grandparents had a family Bible - or that Grandma Gadd did. If so, it probably ended up with Harold, and his daughter Jenifer may have it:

Mrs. Jenifer Manners
52 Honey Hill Road
Kingswood
Bristol BS15 4HN Tel. 0272 608302

She became a nurse specialising in optical work - she may have gone back to it once her husband died - am not sure. I had a Christmas card from her.
There was an old family photograph album which I saw as a child. Harold had this. There was a photo in it, touched up, of old John Gadd taken after he died - he refused to be photographed when alive. Jenifer y have this, though the early photographs may well have faded long since.

I did not have a card from my cousin Stuart this Christmas - he is 8 months older than I, but he seemed perfectly compos mentis and OK when he wrote to me for Xmas ‘92.

Some years ago, there was published in Bristol a small book (about the size of an exercise book) - a set of old photographs of Bristol - one of these showed George Gadd standing outside his shop in Ellbroad St. I had a copy, but had to get rid of a lot of books when I moved here. Penny hasn’t got one, but said she would ask Tim. (Tim remembers it, but has so much stuff in boxes from when they moved to Cornwall that he hasn’t finished looking!) George’s bookshop sold them (top of Park St.). Jill (Webb) has remembered they were compiled by a man called Reece-Winstone. There were later books in the same series - this was the first one. I know R.A. Gilbert (Bob) who has a bookshop in North View, and might be able to help if you can’t track one in the family.

Re the photographs I have already sent you

Group photograph of Gadds with their partners and off-spring in the Spring of 1949, taken on the steps in Auntie Minnie’s back garden at Downend, Bristol. (Tim is there so must have been on holiday from boarding school.) (I have a similar version of this, taken about three years earlier - Penny.)

Group photograph taken at Tim’s wedding to Katharine Baker in July 1962. (Your parents were married a few weeks later (Sept.)

Group photo of me with my brother (your grandfather) and sister taken in 1916. My sister enjoyed being photographed, my brother hated it and tended to look long-suffering. I don’t suppose I had any opinion, but either then or later I was puzzled to be told to ‘watch the dickey-bird.’

In ‘Customer’s Original envelope’ are 3 copies you may keep.

Barbara