Blog – Page 7 – Auntie Mabel

Trading Stories, Working Lives: Gardening with the Harrisons

Post author By grahamauntiemabel
Post date June 10, 2015

Study an 1828 map of Leicester and you might just spot Harrison’s Nursery; it’s out on a limb, some distance along Belgrave Gate. The cartographer has freckled it with trees. A brook wiggles its way along the northern edge and a small building stands on the main road. I set out to discover whether there’s a link between this nursery and the Harrison gardeners in my family tree.

Harrisons Nursery off Belgrave Gate, 1828

It’s a research journey that requires some resourcefulness – hopping between freemen’s records, a biography or two, trade directories and a clutch of books on gardening in Georgian times. Along the way there was a moment of joy unearthing a skinny booklet in the archives – ‘Harrison & Sons Bicentenary, 1764-1964’ – which opens with a rather romanticised tale about the beginnings of the firm:

“Somewhere around the year 1760… John Harrison rode off to market on his father’s horse, lost everything he had, horse and all, in a disastrous gambling bout, and decamped to join George III’s Navy, at that time at war with the French. By 1764, peace had been signed, sailor John had saved enough himself to buy himself out so he returned to Leicester to set up shop in East Bond Street as a nurseryman, greengrocer etc.”

From these early shoots Harrison’s nursery flourished for over two hundred years – at the Belgrave Gate location and beyond – and I was chuffed to see that it did indeed link in with my own family tree. Take a look here at the story of three generations of gardeners, nurserymen and seed merchants: Harrisons the nurserymen.

It’s the latest in our series of ‘Trading Stories, Working Lives’ occupational histories. To see others in the series: http://auntiemabel.org/resour…/trading-stories-working-lives

Book Club

Book Club: The Hare with Amber Eyes

Post author By grahamauntiemabel
Post date June 7, 2015

“One sunny day I set out to find Charles. Rue de Monceau is a long Parisian street that charges off towards the boulevard Pereire. It is a hill of golden-stone houses…” and with this, Edmund de Waal heads out in the footsteps of relative Charles Ephrussi, a wealthy Jewish banker, aesthete and collector. The result is this riveting family history, The Hare With Amber Eyes: A Hidden Inheritance.

In a beautifully written narrative, he reveals how Charles’ collection of 264 netsuke – delicately-carved wooden and ivory Japanese belt fastenings – passed through several generations of the Ephrussi family, from Belle Epoque Paris to war-torn Vienna, and then – thanks to a loyal maid – to Japan and now London. In pursuing the netsuke, Edmund de Waal evokes a picture of each branch of the family in turn; he has an affluent and colourful family to work with, but this is not a glitzy society history, more a considered study of the Ephrussi family in context. His research shines through, without weighing down the storyline.

Heirlooms Writing Family History

Martin Collis’ tool chest

Post author By grahamauntiemabel
Post date June 1, 2015

Lift the lid of the heavy tool chest and peer into the working life of Martin Collis. As an engineer’s pattern maker at a Leicester iron foundry, he fashions mahogany into models, ready for sand casting with molten metal. This is precise work, a task of fine tolerances and exacting standards: “measure twice, cut once”.

By scrimping his weekly wages, Martin populates the wooden chest with tools: dovetail and rip saws are inset into the lid, chisels, gouges and planes sit in the pull-out trays, with set squares and sharpening stones in the space below. As he hones his craft, his tools develop a familiar grasp – the turn of the gouge, the bite of the saw, the sweep of the plane.

He uses an odontograph to space the teeth on a gearwheel, juggling the geometry and jotting down his calculations in a battered notebook. He learns where to place the sprue and riser channels, so that the molten iron, bronze or aluminium flows freely. He develops an intuitive feel for shrinkage rates and machining allowances.

In the foundry they make a name stamp – and he wallops ‘M COLLIS’ into each boxwood handle. He’s in the pattern-making trade to stay.

Take a look at other examples of ‘Heirloom’ articles and suggestions for writing one yourself.

Useful Websites

Diving into The British Newspaper Archive

Post author By grahamauntiemabel
Post date May 25, 2015

Flick through our family’s Victorian photo album and you’ll see plenty of stiff and starchy studio poses – ladies in their bonnets and shawls, gents with three piece suits and top hats. So it comes as a surprise to turn the page and find this fine fellow, clad only in a swimsuit and sporting a chest full of medals.

For years, it had been a mystery as to exactly who this swimmer was. The provenance of the photo album – and facial similarity to others in the Shipley family – suggested to me that he might be one of four Shipley brothers: Frederick, Harry, William or George. But if so, which one?

Winning those medals could have been a newsworthy event, I reckoned, so I turned to The British Newspaper Archive online in the hope of finding a trace. There are 14 medals pinned to his swimsuit, hopefully one might merit a mention in the local newspaper.

Trading Stories, Working Lives

Trading Stories, Working Lives: George Robinson, letter carrier

Post author By grahamauntiemabel
Post date May 12, 2015

Wearing a top hat and scarlet coat, George Robinson – a letter carrier from the late 1840s – would have been a familiar figure in the Leicester streets. He was amongst the first batch of postmen to be appointed; it was a time of innovation, shortly after the introduction of the penny post, and George would have witnessed the advent of pillar boxes and the growing popularity of Christmas cards. Read his story here: George Robinson the letter carrier

This is the first in our series of occupational histories. Researching an ancestor’s occupation can be a rewarding mini project. Start with the known facts about their working life – maybe a description of their occupation in a census return or a trade directory – and then be resourceful in your investigations.

The George Robinson article, for example, starts with a couple of records on Ancestry – the Post Office appointment book for 1847 and the 1851 census. From there, the story draws upon a broad range of resources, including published works (Rowland Hill’s ‘Post Office Reform’ and John Soer’s booklet ‘The Royal Mail in Leicestershire and Rutland’), a visit to the Royal Mail Archive (www.postalheritage.org.uk) at Mount Pleasant, and snippets from the local newspaper and trade directory. The aim is to get a sense of working life for a postman in the late 1840s and early 1850s. Let us know what you think of it.

To read other articles in our ‘Trading Stories, Working Lives’ series: http://auntiemabel.org/resour…/trading-stories-working-lives

Writing Family History

Getting started: to write or not to write?

Post author By grahamauntiemabel
Post date February 21, 2015

You know that Eureka moment. You’ve spent the last hour or so carefully spooling through a microfilm, trying to spot your ancestor amidst the dense newsprint. Then your eye alights on a familiar surname, and your story suddenly comes to life.

Sitting in the Leicestershire Records Office a few years ago, I had such a moment. I’d tracked down a brief obituary for a relative, Frederick Major, who had long since faded from family memory. The grainy Leicester Mercury snippet of 23rd June 1924 revealed that:

“He was a very active man and always endeavoured as far as possible to walk wherever he wanted to go. In particular he objected to riding in tramcars. He also had an excellent memory and could have written an extensive history of the city in the last century.”

A remarkable character, by the sound of it. And what a treasure chest his memories would have been – a personal walk through 19^th century Leicester – if only he’d got round to writing them down.

Contrast that with my experience ten years earlier. This time I’m hunting for Edwin Crew. He and his wife Jane had been involved with the Wycliffe Society for the Blind. As I trawl through the Society archives, I uncover ‘City of the Blind at Leicester’, typed on 12 wafer-thin pages. It’s the voice of Edwin in 1932 or thereabouts, recalling the early days of the Society. Despite his apparent reservations – “An autobiography does not appeal to me. However, let us [move] on with the story” – his anecdotes give us a sense of the man and his mission. He’d bothered to write his story and thankfully it has been preserved.