Week Three Flash Story

Chatting with History

Louisa stirred in bed with a sense of dread.

She lay wondering why baby Ethel wasn’t fussing as usual and Alfred snoring beside her. The realisation slowly came to her. She was alone in their bed.

“Are you awake Missus?” the young girl who came in on a daily basis to help with the cleaning of the bar asked.

“What are you doing here, Gertie?" But before Gertie could answer, Louisa awoke fully with the memories of last night flooding back. Alfred was gone. Fallen to his death down the well. 

“There is a Constable waiting to see you Missus, I’ll just pop out and let him know you be awake,” she replied.

Louisa stopped her, “I must see the children, please bring them to me.”

She dragged herself from the bed and realised she was in the same clothes as last night. Oh well she thought, a comb through my hair will suffice for now. Where is my comb? Dear God, how am I going to tell the children?

Realising that someone was knocking on her bedroom door, she called: “Enter.”

Constable O’Riellly came in. “I am sorry to have to inform you Mrs Brandt, that Alfred’s body has been recovered from the well out back. He is indeed dead. The Magistrate has taken his body, as there will need to be an inquest. “

Louisa could only nod, “ I have to see my children, excuse me,” she replied as she ran from the room.

Week Two Flash Story

Conversation with the Past

Midnight found me in my armchair researching Samuel on my Ipad. If only I could talk to you grandfather, I thought.

Suddenly I was sitting on the verandah of Stanville, his home in Collaroy. I could hear the waves crashing on the beach in the background.

Across from me in a rocking chair was my grandfather Samuel Stanley Briggs..

“I have so many questions for you grandfather.” 

“Ask away my dear, he said. “what is troubling you.”

“ I have a photo of your three Thornycroft Trucks with SS Briggs Contractor painted on the side of the trucks. But I can’t seem to find much about them.”

“As I think you already know, this photo was taken in 1922. I had only just received delivery of them, it was taken as an advertisement for Thornycroft.”

“ This looks to me as though you were fairly well off, owning three trucks.”

“Ah, but appearances can be deceiving my dear,” he replied. “it was hard times, businesses were only just getting on their feet after WWI.”

“So what happened that you went from business owner of three trucks in 1922 to being taken to court in 1937 for non payment of your mortgage, with the possibility off losing this lovely house?”

“Well in one word, no make that three,” he said, “the Great Depression.”

“For goodness sake Marcia, you are asleep. Will you put that iPad down before you drop it and come to bed,” my husband yelled from the comfort of our bedroom.

28 DAY WRITING CHALLENGE DAY 6 - IT BEGINS (1791)

Shifting out of the way of a rat on his daily route through the filth that was all around her, Elizabeth sighed.

Oh, for the smell of the wildflowers of her childhood. I can almost feeling the soft petals on my feet as I run through them barefoot. Da is calling me to come home…

“Wake up you scraggily wenches, it’s time to go. Your next ‘ome will be on HMS The Pitt. Yer, got first rate digs,” he said, spitting on the floor as he entered, “now ‘urry up, you’ll be marching to the harbour.”

The gaoler left in his wake the usual stale stench of tobacco and rum, that clung to his clothes.

So today is the day. At long last for better or worse I am about to undertake the journey to me new life. Surely the boat will be better than this hell hole. We have been crammed in here for so long, I have forgotten what month it is!

They were soon herded out into the early morning fog. Even in the height of summer she found herself shivering in her skimpy rags, with water running ankle deep in the gutters as they made their way to the harbour. She sighed as the eery silence of the early morning fog engulfed her. There were not many people around at 3am to see the sad procession to the harbour. I have never been on a boat before, I ‘ope our lodgings are better than the gaol. 

Little did she know that her hopes were to be dashed once again on arrival at the wharf.

Walking up the rickety gangplank and taking her turn to climb over the bulwark, Elizabeth was assailed by the sheer number of people assembled on the deck already.

Where are the rest of ‘em behind me going to fit?

Her attention was soon distracted by one of the Officers giving them orders of what was going to happen on this voyage.

All too soon they were again herded like cattle to the opening in front of them. Holding her breath and hoping for better days to come, she followed others as they started the decent down the ladder to the hull.

Gagging at the overwhelming stench of decay and damp, her chains clinked in time with the others.

Hammocks! I don’t care if I have to share one, I’m not going to sleep on no more floor again! She hurried as best she could to stake her claim on the prized bedding.

There wasn’t a window in sight and Elizabeth soon realised that her time on the Pitt wasn’t going to be any easier than the gaol. But it couldn’t get any worse, could it?

So much for the first rate digs. This is going to be a long voyage!

28 DAY CHALLENGE DAY 5 - THE WAITING GAME (1791)

Why am I shivering so?  What is happening to me?

Elizabeth didn’t know whether she was shivering from cold or from despair.

The words kept going round and round in her head, “to be transported beyond the seas for seven years.”⁠ [1]

This couldn’t be happening, could it? Lizzy only got one month in prison. Why? We both did the same thing. What did she say that was different to me? Lord above what is going to happen to me?

Elizabeth never saw Lizzy again and she never did find the answers to her questions.

It was a bedraggled group that shuffled back to the gaol in the incessant drizzling rain. Oh what I would give for some warmth and sunshine.

It remains a mystery as to what became of Elizabeth in the months following her trial. There doesn’t appear to be any records of her where abouts or existence until she is found on the ship the Pitt, in July 1791 bound for Australia.

The days were long and tedious in her prison cell.  If only there weren't so many of us in this little space.  I wish them leery eyed men wouldn't stare so hard at me. Surely me new life has to be better than this? I wish I could get away.

It is conjecture as to what Elizabeth felt in this time. But I do wonder whether she would have looked forward to the chance to start a new life ‘oer the seas.

It was during this time that there was a push to have the gaols overhauled. Prison reformer John Howard had published his findings in “The State of the Prisons in England and Wales.⁠" [2] The gaols of this time were housing both men and women together, with no separation of classes or crimes, the untried or those awaiting trial. 

I wonder what the boat will be like? I hope it doesn’t take too long and I hope I don’t get sick. I wonder what the new country will look like? Will there be houses bigger than here?

There would have been many conflicting emotions and questions in her time before she embarked on the Pitt. With the harsh conditions in the gaols it is amazing that she survived to board the Pitt at all! 

There is a lot of conjecture for the Family Historian, but it is also nice to have the chance to put forward these theories!

____________

1 Gloucestershire Archives; Gloucester, Gloucestershire, England; Gloucestershire Prison Collections; Reference: Q/SG2/1789-1814

2 John Howard, The State of the Prisons in England and Wales: With Preliminary Observations, and an Account of Some Foreign Prisons, Edition 3. Cadell, 1777.

28 DAY CHALLENGE DAY 4 - THE TRIAL (1791)

THE TRIAL

The day broke with barely a whisper of sound.

Opening her eyes to her bleak surroundings Elizabeth was met with many faces of gloom. Everyone was too scared to speak.

What would this day bring?

The familiar stench was wafting down the corridor again. The Gaoler appeared before them, although not the usual rough ragged tooth man, somehow they all stank the same. This was a tall man in uniform with a thick greatcoat to keep out the winter chill.

“Look lively me lovelies. You are going for a walk today. A nice fresh breeze awaits you, any stragglers will get a box behind the ears for your trouble. Now line up.”

Elizabeth realised with a sinking feeling that there would not be any gruel this morning. I hope this doesn’t take long, before we are back in our cells.

A bitter gust of wind welcomed them as they emerged through the doors. Squinting at the bright light, Elizabeth couldn’t remember when she had last seen the sky. It threatened menacingly with it’s grey murky colour and low hanging snow clouds. 

Pulling her shawl over her head she hoped that she would still have dry clothes when she got there.

The tattered group of prisoners arrived at the hall for the Epiphany Session of the Assizes in good time and mercifully dry.

They were shuffled into one big group outside the hall to await their turn. Her hopes of sitting inside in the warmth were quickly dashed.

After many hours she was finally herded inside with some of the others. Moving slowly as all her joints were now stiff with the cold, she winced when she received a kick to her shins from one of their guards urging her to hurry.

Standing in the dock with blood trickling down her leg, she heard, “Elizabeth Selwyn, you are charged with theft and damage of property. Please state your name, age and abode.”[1]

How am I going to answer that? Should I tell the truth or do they need to hear something else? I don’t know me birthday. How can I tell ‘em me abode, when I don’t have one? I don’t think they want to hear that I sleep when and where I can. 

Elizabeth shuffled sideways in the dock and found herself next to Lizzy. The man at the front of the judge was asking her the same questions.

Of course she was saying that her name was Elizabeth Evans but why was she saying that she was 16? She always tells me she is older than me, and I am pretty sure I am somewhere around 18 or 19? What is she doing?

Blinking in bewilderment Elizabeth became lost amongst all the big words of the courtroom. She had trouble keeping up with what they were saying. She remembered being asked and replying "Not Guilty" and Lizzy doing the same.

She was lead from the court with the words ringing in her ears...

 “to be transporter beyond the seas for seven years”[2]

Oh, what have I done?

--------------------

1 Gloucestershire Archives; Gloucester, Gloucestershire, England; Gloucestershire Prison Collections; Reference: Q/SG2/1789-1814

2 Gloucestershire Archives; Gloucester, Gloucestershire, England; Gloucestershire Prison Collections; Reference: Q/SG2/1789-1814

#52 ANCESTORS WEEK 6 - FAVOURITE NAME

#52 ANCESTORS

The prompt for this week’s #52 Ancestor Challenge is Favourite Name. It could be a name of an ancestor that makes you smile. Perhaps it's an unusual name.

MY FAVOURITE NAME - Garvice Galvin 

 
This week I am writing about my father, Garvice Galvin Brandt. Although I adored my father and was spoilt by him as the youngest, I never really talked to him, not on a deeper level! He died when I was twenty one and I suppose I always thought I had plenty of time. 

You would think that this would have taught me a lesson, but alas it didn’t. 

My mother lived for a further 19 years and although I was close to her, I still never gave her the chance to tell her or Dad’s story. I was always too busy with my young family and my parent’s generation had to be asked to share their stories. I just wished I had asked!

It wasn't until later years when I found an interest in Family History that I realised the opportunities missed.

I often wonder how my Dad got his name.

Garvice Galvin BRANDT

Well I can speculate fairly confidently on the Galvin one. His mother’s maiden name was Galvin. Her middle name was Gertrude, so I like to think that there was a GG theme going on when she gave birth.

As to Garvice? It is anyone's guess, but I do have a theory.

My eldest sister thinks she can remember our Mum telling her once that Dad was named after an author of the time. I googled “Garvice authors” once, while researching. I wanted to write a story about his birth. Low and behold there was a Charles Garvice, a popular romance writer of over 150 books at the time of Dad’s birth.

So I now choose to think that this may have been the origin of his first name.

I do know that Garvice, wasn’t popular with my father. He regularly called himself “Jack” and filled many forms in under this name. He also recorded his middle name as Joseph, not Galvin.

So I tend to be fairly liberal in my search parameters when doing research on him.

The other thing is that most research engines and word programmes like to auto correct Garvice to garlic, when inputing information. This has caused a few smiles in my Family History adventures!

28 DAY WRITING CHALLENGE DAY 3 - THE GAOL (1791)

THE GAOL

Shivering uncontrollably, Elizabeth thought, will I ever be warm again? The walls of the cell dripped with moisture and the floors were awash with filth.

Elizabeth and Lizzy were taken quickly from the darkened street once the Nightwatchman arrived, to the County Gaol in the City of Glocester(Gloucester ) to await trial.

The days all seemed to run into one another. Stirring from a fitful sleep Elizabeth wondered how long have I been here? When will this nightmare end? Where have they put Lizzy?

Everyday morphed into another long day of agony. Packed in a small cell with one meal a day. At least I get a meal everyday, which is more than some days at ‘ome!

Drifting off to sleep, shivering once again she wondered could I get out of here another way. Death, seemed a kinder alternative. If only I had a choice.

Waking the next morning, she realised that she was still alive and no longer shivering.

What will happen to me? Will I ever seem Mam again?I guess I am destined to endure more of whatever I God has in store for me. I just wish I could see Mam and let her know what happened. I don’t even know if she knows where I am. I hope she knows that I was just trying to feed the young ‘uns.

The day was one long drudge. No room to move and the endless cold and damp. Suddenly her nostrils were struck with the stench wafting through the hall. The Gaoler was coming towards the cell.

“Right you be, me lovelies, just letting you know that you needs to be up bright eyed and bushy tailed in the morning. Your trial will take place tomorrow and you will all be escorted to the Booth Hall for the Epiphany Sessions. It is snowing nicely outside so with any luck you will all have a lovely walk,” he snickered as he walked past all the cells.

So tomorrow I will learn my fate. Am I to have a death sentence or will I be transported o’er the seas? No matter what, I won’t see me family again! 

Curling up into a ball on the floor away from the incessant wet walls, she drifted off to sleep, hoping that her dreams would be kept at bay. 

What possibly could I dream of that won’t turn into a nightmare?

References

Gloucestershire Archives; Gloucester, Gloucestershire, England; Gloucestershire Prison Collections; Reference: Q/SG2/1789-1814