What follows is an adaptation (with a few updates) of my talk, which was advertised in the newsletter and on the web site as follows:
When the Waves Turn the Minutes to Hours: The Tragic End of John Goddard, Master Hairdresser
What Gail Roger keeps learning as a family historian, over and over again, is that the most insignificant details lead to the biggest breakthroughs. This is the story of how the appearance of a distant uncle in the probate notice of an even more distant cousin eventually led her to the horrific details of the final months of her husband's great-great-great-grandfather's life.
About the Speaker
Unlike most BIFHSGO presenters, Gail Roger says she is an absolute nobody. She does have a graduate degree which she has failed to use for monetary gain; she used to teach English as a Second Language, but no more. She has been pursuing family history seriously (that is, online and taking courses) for the past eight years and for the sake of her daughters --- who aren't that interested.
Note: Remember, you can click on any picture to see more detail.
William Day Goddard ca. 1890s |
Is a great moment in family research still great when you
make a discovery that knocks down three
brick walls like dominoes and there behind them is a long-lost family
tragedy? You tell me.
This story concerns my husband’s great-great-great-grandfather
John Goddard, a master hairdresser in the town of Strood in Rochester, Kent.
This is not him.
This is John’s grandson and my husband’s great-grandfather William Day
Goddard, a railway official in Folkestone, Kent and, judging from this picture,
a Freemason.
My first brick wall in this tale is the “Day” in “William Day Goddard”. The next brother Frederick, a master mariner, also had the “Day” in the middle.
(Frederick’s legacy to my husband’s family, by the way, is a photograph of decapitated pirates somewhere in China. It's a sepia photograph, thank goodness.)
My first brick wall in this tale is the “Day” in “William Day Goddard”. The next brother Frederick, a master mariner, also had the “Day” in the middle.
(Frederick’s legacy to my husband’s family, by the way, is a photograph of decapitated pirates somewhere in China. It's a sepia photograph, thank goodness.)
I have discovered, since the 2011 presentation, that William and Mary Goddard had two more children who died young. |
You’ll notice I’ve used
high tech to circle the name of their brother Philip. He’ll be key in a bit.
My late mother-in-law declared, very confidently: “Oh, ‘Day’
was William Day Goddard’s mother’s maiden name.”
Only it wasn’t.
Over
the years, I kept pushing back the family tree a few more generations, always
keeping an eye out for that elusive “Day".
Nuthin’.
1849 parish record of the marriage of my husband's great-great-grandparents, St Mary and St Eanswythe Folkestone |
These are the parents of William Day Goddard. Now, I don’t
need to tell you how important it is to check the other names on a
certificate. (Do I?) I was overjoyed to note the
name of one of the witnesses. (Edmund Kingsford, by the way, was a brother-in-law to Mary Upton, being married to her eldest sister Caroline. He was a solicitor and executed most of the family wills.)
Wow! I thought. Now, all I have to do is find out who Ann Day was!
No dice.
No matter what I tried, the brick wall stood firm, and I got tired of banging my head so I went off to bash other brick walls. Like this one:
Wow! I thought. Now, all I have to do is find out who Ann Day was!
No dice.
No matter what I tried, the brick wall stood firm, and I got tired of banging my head so I went off to bash other brick walls. Like this one:
1841 census, High Street, Strood, Kent |
I knew William, our bridegroom in that marriage certificate,
was born in Strood, the fourth child of John Goddard, master hairdresser. Here’s William in the census, eight years
before he married Mary Upton in Folkestone, living in Strood with his dad and
his stepmother, with one of his sisters and three of his four-soon-to-be five
half-siblings. How do I know all this? I'm a family researcher, and if you're a family researcher too, you know I tracked the family back and forth through the censuses and parish records.
Now, here’s Brick
Wall Number Two: The 1841 census, as
many of you know, rounds the ages to the nearest five, which means I didn’t
have an exact year of birth for John and all it tells me is that he is a
hairdresser and that he was not born
in Kent.
Great.
A John Goddard born between 1787 and
1792.
In anywhere but Kent.
That narrows
it down, doesn’t it?
But wait, I said William Goddard was living with three of
his four-soon-to-be-five half-siblings. His eldest half-sibling Harriet Goddard
is missing from this document. She was
born in Strood in 1827 which means that if she survived to the time of the 1841
census, she would be….
Oh, look:
Here’s a James
Goddard living in Deptford. He’s a
dairyman, he has an estimated age of 85 years, born outside of Kent, same as
John Goddard. There’s a Harriet Goddard,
born in Kent, about the right age to be John Goddard’s Harriet and there’s an
Ann Weeks. I found a record of an Ann
Goddard marrying a William Weeks in Woolwich and a christening record for an
Ann Goddard, daughter of James and Elizabeth, in --- Strood.
Nice, huh?
Too bad it doesn’t prove a thing.
Brick wall Number Three.
On February 7th, 2011, out of the blue, I got a
message through Ancestry from a lady in San Diego: “Hello,” she
said. “I see
from your family tree that you have a Philip John Goddard.”
(Remember, that guy I circled? William Day Goddard’s younger brother?)
“He was named an executor in the will of my great-grandmother Ann Elizabeth Turner Day Noon. Her mother was born Elizabeth Goddard and she married George Day….”
(Remember, that guy I circled? William Day Goddard’s younger brother?)
“He was named an executor in the will of my great-grandmother Ann Elizabeth Turner Day Noon. Her mother was born Elizabeth Goddard and she married George Day….”
Well, I couldn’t answer that for a while, because I had to run
around the living room for a few laps, then do a couple of rounds of the
Hokey-Pokey, followed by a spirited rendition of “Hail the Conquering Hero”.
I finally calmed down enough to tell her what I knew about Philip John Goddard, then I told her the whole saga of John Goddard not being born in Kent and James the dairyman who may or may not be the paterfamilias. To her credit, my lady of San Diego didn’t block me.
I finally calmed down enough to tell her what I knew about Philip John Goddard, then I told her the whole saga of John Goddard not being born in Kent and James the dairyman who may or may not be the paterfamilias. To her credit, my lady of San Diego didn’t block me.
She did give me two more things to work with:
1)
her great-great-grandmother Elizabeth Day née Goddard had three (3) birth
places. That is, she reported a
different birth place in each census:
Exeter, Devon;
Monkwood, Dorset;
and Crewkerne, Somerset.
Exeter, Devon;
Monkwood, Dorset;
and Crewkerne, Somerset.
2) At one point, Elizabeth’s daughter
Ann Elizabeth Turner Day had an aunt named Ann Palin living with her.
Back to Elizabeth with her three birthplaces. Now, for
years, I’d been unraveling a mystery about another ancestor who had three maiden
names. It turns out she was hiding
something. I suspected Elizabeth Goddard
Day was hiding something too, so I got out her christening record (which I’d
had for years, but hadn’t paid that much attention).
Elizabeth was born on Valentine’s Day 1788, but not christened
until 1805 in Strood, Kent. Hmmmn.
So I looked at Google Maps where you can work out the
distance between two given places. I do
this a lot in family research and I always choose the walking option because,
prior to the twentieth century, there was a global shortage of cars…
In the days before railways, walking distance needs to be considered. Fewer people than you'd think had horses. |
Crewkerne (B) and Monkwood (A) are very close together – about 9 miles, or a
three-hour hike. Exeter (C), not so much,
you could walk the the 38 miles to Crewkerne in 12 hours, but there is a direct road.
Here, I found a John Goddard being born in Chard, Somerset to
James Goddard and Betty Turner . (Remember Ann Elizabeth Turner Day????)
Promising.
Chard (B) is about eight miles from Crewkerne, Somerset (C), and about twelve miles from Monkwood, Dorset (A).
However, the FamilySearch christening entry that I found in 2011 is one of their member-submitted records which means it could be true, but there are no sources backing it up.
However, the FamilySearch christening entry that I found in 2011 is one of their member-submitted records which means it could be true, but there are no sources backing it up.
So I said to myself: “I’ll try FreeREG.”
FreeREG, for those of you unfamiliar with it, is a sister-site of FreeBMD. Over the past few years, volunteers have been transcribing church registers. So not only is it continually being updated – it’s free!
Mind you, FamilySearch is also free, but they don't always transcribe the full parish entries. However, FamilySearch isn't nearly so picky as FreeReg is about exact spelling and counties, so it's worthwhile to try both.
Then, at FreeReg, I found this marriage.
Remember the birthdate on Elizabeth's Goddard's christening record seventeen years later in Strood, Kent?
February 14th, 1788 - more than a year before this wedding.
Perhaps her mother Betty went away to Monkwood or Exeter or Crewkerne to have her baby before getting quietly hitched in Chard.
Using the FreeReg information as a starting point, I found other siblings for Elizabeth and John, and their christenings indicate that James Goddard brought his family to Strood from Somerset some time between 1794 and 1800.
Remember the birthdate on Elizabeth's Goddard's christening record seventeen years later in Strood, Kent?
February 14th, 1788 - more than a year before this wedding.
Perhaps her mother Betty went away to Monkwood or Exeter or Crewkerne to have her baby before getting quietly hitched in Chard.
Using the FreeReg information as a starting point, I found other siblings for Elizabeth and John, and their christenings indicate that James Goddard brought his family to Strood from Somerset some time between 1794 and 1800.
Now, my lady in San
Diego also said that Elizabeth’s daughter Ann Elizabeth Turner Noon née Day had an
aunt living with her at one point -- an Ann Palin.
So who was living with James Goddard the dairyman in
1841?
Ann Weeks.
Ann Weeks.
Bingo!
I sent away for the marriage certificate et voilà!
I sent away for the marriage certificate et voilà!
This certificate confirms that Ann Weeks was a widow, and that her father was James Goddard. I wondered if Harriet Chopping was Ann's niece Harriet Goddard, but have found nothing to confirm this. |
(I think I grabbed a couple of cushions and did a quick tango
for that one.)
I was so excited, I emailed a lady from the Goddard
Association of Europe with whom I’ve been corresponding, and she said: “Somerset is very close to Wiltshire and the
Wiltshire Goddards were la crème de la crème!”
Well. James Goddard was a dairyman, after all…
So the lady in San Diego was delighted to have her
connection and to know who Ann Palin was, and I was delighted to have John
Goddard’s birth family, birthplace and birth year, but -- family research is like crack
cocaine, isn’t it? You get that high and
you want another one so bad…
For the record, I haven’t tried crack cocaine. I’m a family
researcher. I don’t need to.
John Goddard and his second wife Mary disappear after the
1841 census.
I’d searched the
parish registers at Medway Ancestors (fabulous web site!); I’d sent away for a
likely death certificate which turned out to be for a seven-year-old. And every time I logged on to Ancestry.co.uk,
there’d be that list of “new records”.
Including, at that time, the England and Wales Criminal Registers…
“Naaaaaah…” I said to my computer. I talk to my computer a lot. It's a bit sad, really.
Nevertheless, I entered “John Goddard, 1792”.
And I found a John Goddard appearing in the Kent Assizes and
convicted for “Forgery of an order for the payment of money”, sentenced to
transportation, fifteen years.
I still said, “Naaaaaah…”
There must be hundreds of John Goddards -- well, at least scores.
In Kent.
Born in 1792.
And there on my Ancestry home page, were the registers for prison hulks. You’ve heard of prison hulks.
Decommissioned ships, usually used as holding tanks for about-to-be transported
convicts? Great Expectations?
I think this is one of the hulks at Chatham. |
Damn.
The occupation of hairdresser and the number of children, plus the age, confirms that this is our John Goddard. Again, you can click this image to enlarge it. |
This is a page from the register of the prison hulk
Fortitude, anchored in Chatham Harbour.
The jailer reports: “"No.
7689 - John Goddard - (age) 50 - (Crime) Forging and uttering a payment of £50
- (Convicted where) Maidstone - (Convicted when) 14 March 1842 - (Sentence) 15
years - Married; 9 children - Hairdresser - (Gaoler's Report) Not
Known"
I didn’t dance or sing for this one. This record breaks my
heart. Here’s John Goddard fifty years
old in 1842, when being 50 was being quite an old man. (£50, by the way, was a great deal of money in 1842 -- well over £2000 in today's money or about $4000 Canadian -- and forgery had, until recently, been a capital offence in Britain.)
“Gaoler’s Report: Not Known."
The gaoler had plenty to say about the other prisoners. He has about
half a dozen guys in for rape, and reports that they are “honest and
industrious”. Well, I guess if you’re
going to have rapists in your hulk, that’s the kind to have. Then there’s a whole bunch of fellows for
various kinds of stealing; the gaoler thinks they’re “dishonest”.
John, along with several other prisoners, was transferred to
the convict ship Waterloo on May 23rd, 1842.
Feeling a bit shaken, I reported my findings to my pal in
the Goddard Association, and she emailed back:
“Well, what happened?”
I said, “He was fifty years old, being transported for
fifteen years. That’s as good as a death
sentence.”
Fatal words.
Ancestry also has Australian transportation records.
The convict ship Waterloo sailed out of Sheerness, Kent on
June 1st, 1842, so John spent two months locked up in the prison
hulk before being locked up on this convict ship embarking on the six-month
journey to Van Diemen’s Land Tasmania.
What’s wrong with that record?
Does that say “drowned”?
I checked the rest of the page. Most, but not all of them drowned.
Mystified, I showed this to my husband.
“Have you googled it?” he asked.
Merciful heaven. The
ship in the centre is the Abercrombie Robinson, a troop ship. All 500 aboard were saved and a simply dreadful poem was written about it. Off
to your left is the Waterloo which was a third of the tonnage of the
Abercrombie Robinson. And in rather more distress, wouldn’t you say?
"Wreck of the Waterloo", image by the lithographer, Charles Hutchins, after a sketch by Lieut Hext of The King's Own Regiment |
Does anyone know where
the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours?*
This editorial report appeared in The South African
Commercial Advertiser:
“Cape Town, August 31 1842
“On the forenoon
of Sunday last two large vessels, the Abercrombie Robinson and the Waterloo
went on shore on the South Eastern beach at the bottom of Table Bay. . . .
“The Waterloo . .
. had on board, besides her crew, two hundred and nineteen male convicts,
thirty men of HM 99th Regiment,** five women and thirteen children. She took the
ground . . . and in fifteen or twenty minutes became a mass of rubbish. . . .
In about two hours and a half, amidst the crumbling heaps of their perfidious
prison – of men, women and children, one hundred and ninety four were crushed,
disabled and drowned. . . . We stood amongst thousands on the beach within a
hundred and fifty yards of the dissolving fabric, looking on the agonised faces
of our fellow creatures, as they sunk in dozens, battered and bruised . . . .As
corpse after corpse floated to our feet . . . .”
Well, you get the idea.
One of those corpses was fifty-year-old John Goddard, master
hairdresser, father of nine, my husband’s great-great-great-grandfather. His youngest daughter was thirteen months old
on the day he drowned – or was crushed to death.
Does a man convicted of forgery deserve to die
this way? ***
Do "honest and industrious' rapists deserve this?
The past really is another country, isn’t it?
South African Commercial Advertiser, 31 August 1842, the same day the editorial report quoted above was published |
What happened next?
Life went on, but not for John Goddard.
Haven’t yet found out what became of John’s second
wife. Still searching Medway Ancestors.
She’s not in the 1851 census (unless she became a housekeeper in Maidstone), but her children are recorded, living with their half
brother, also named John, also a master hairdresser.
William, my husband’s great-great-grandfather,
moved to Folkestone some time between 1841 and his marriage in 1849. Was this
family tragedy the reason behind his move? Did he tell his wife what had happened to his
father? Did he tell his children? My guess is that he didn’t. He was ambitious -- not only was he a hairdresser and perfumer, but he had a toyshop at one point
and sold insurance and retired a “gentleman”.
Folkestone, Kent, circa 1905 - my husband's grandfather Ralph Philip Hyde Goddard is the second young man on the left. |
William’s eldest son William Day Goddard, with whom we
started this story, lived a comfortable middle-class life, with three sons
going to university, one to Oxford, one to Cambridge, and a daughter decorated
during the First World War for her nursing in Mesopotamia. I suspect a grandfather dying in the wreck of
a convict ship thousands of miles from home didn’t quite fit in with all that.
I’ll never know for sure.
However, after more than a century and a half, I think it’s
safe to bring John Goddard home from the sea. Does that make this a great
moment?
_________________________________________________________________________________
*Gordon Lightfoot, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald".
**The perils of making a presentation to a family history society include fielding questions from the military and naval buffs in the audience. One gentleman "just didn't see how the 99th regiment could have been involved. . . ." The link is for him.
***Was John Goddard guilty? This is probably impossible to know, even if I had the transcript of the trial. However, according to page 37 of The Law Advertiser (Volume 8), John Goddard's petition, with other insolvent debtors, was scheduled to be heard on February 2nd, 1830 "at the Court, in Portugal-street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, Middlesex" at 9 (presumably in the morning). He's listed as "Goddard, John, late of Strood, Kent, hair-dresser and perfumer". John was evidently in serious financial trouble a dozen years before he came to trial for forgery.
_________________________________________________________________________________
*Gordon Lightfoot, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald".
**The perils of making a presentation to a family history society include fielding questions from the military and naval buffs in the audience. One gentleman "just didn't see how the 99th regiment could have been involved. . . ." The link is for him.
***Was John Goddard guilty? This is probably impossible to know, even if I had the transcript of the trial. However, according to page 37 of The Law Advertiser (Volume 8), John Goddard's petition, with other insolvent debtors, was scheduled to be heard on February 2nd, 1830 "at the Court, in Portugal-street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, Middlesex" at 9 (presumably in the morning). He's listed as "Goddard, John, late of Strood, Kent, hair-dresser and perfumer". John was evidently in serious financial trouble a dozen years before he came to trial for forgery.
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