Caroline’s depression in 1880/1 had undoubtedly shaken the family standing. She was now a very frail woman, grey and withered. She had, in these brief months, gone through a sad transformation at the end of which she had gone from being a graceful eagle to a timid sparrow. The heartache she endured too, by the actions of Samuel her now only surviving son, had caused a great rift in the family, as her late husband Moses reciprocated his anger onto his younger children, punishing them in his absence. But Moses’ death in April 1880 left a hole in Caroline’s heart deeper than any reconciliation could fill.
Samuel, however, was a busy man himself. He had his own family now, which was growing. He and his wife had produced more siblings for Moses born 1874, and Caroline born 1876. In February 1881 came James Wertheim, and later that year in November came Samuel Henry. Then, finally two years later came Thomas. But Samuel was about to experience an unknown grief, and a heartbreak of his own, when on the birth of Thomas in 1883, his wife Elizabeth haemorrhaged in their home in Ebbw Vale. Samuel and his young children watched in horror. There was so much blood, Samuel sent the children upstairs to avoid some sort of mental implications on them, but the outcome it seems had already been decided. Elizabeth died very soon after, whilst Thomas was merely a day old. She was thirty-three years old, and died on April 15, and the Wertheim’s mourned yet another life cut short.
Samuel felt alone. Exhausted by a frail enthusiasm to keep his family afloat, he often wandered at night whilst leaving his children in the house, with Moses and Caroline keeping watch, though they were barely children themselves. It is interesting how this family seemed to cope with death, or rather, not cope. The deaths of many children had taught Moses and Caroline harsh truths about life and poverty. Yet, when it came to the end of a life longer lived than a child’s, they seem to be a family who find that very difficult to deal with. And as the remaining children grew up, the Wertheim’s of Bristol dispersed into their own collective pockets.
Samuel was still grieving though, and in the autumn of 1883 he received a letter from his brother-in-law, Bart Gidley, telling him that should he be willing, his mother wished to see him and the grandchildren she still had not met. Withered by grief himself, tired of old grudges and in need of a piece of home, he agreed, and Samuel took his children back to Bristol for a “holiday”, sometime in late 1883. This comes from a family relative who says she can remember her granny Caroline talking about going to see her granny shortly after her own mother died. It therefore must be the case, that Samuel had settled his old ways, and had made peace with his mum after almost thirteen years. Blood he thought, would always be thicker than water in the end. In this case the tragic happening is that somebody’s end had to manifest in order for him to see it. In a small way this teaches me that no matter what disagreements I may have with my own parents, they still brought me into this world. I am still bound to them for life and beyond.
The holiday was a bittersweet one for Samuel. Seeing his mother in such a weak disposition added to his pain and disappointment with life. He was now a man who sought a legacy, a real turn around. Sadly, he would never get it. But when talking to his mother and visiting his fathers grave he must have been overcome with regret at the muggings and the robberies he had committed, even if they were ever to help his family in dilute poverty. Who knows?
This was actually the last time Samuel saw his mother, even though it was the first time in over a decade. She was so delighted to see her grandchildren I probably could not describe the moment, so I shall refrain. It must have been a moment of happiness in amongst such a bleak and pale-toned family. But Samuel and Caroline had made their peace, and it was just as well. Around eight months later, Caroline suffered a stroke, when she was roughly sixty-six years old. But she was not alone. She was of course living with her daughter Rebecca, and her husband Bart. With them she woke, and slept, and she was as comfortable as she could have been, given her paralysis. When she was ready, she passed from this life into another, and was reunited with Moses. Her death certificate states that Caroline died 126 years ago today, on June 13 1884. It also states she was 64 years old, which must be incorrect because this would place her birth around 1820, and she was baptised in 1817, on the same day as her sister Hannah. So she is more likely to have been approaching her 70’s.
Caroline was buried in Arnos Vale Cemetery, in a plot shared with a man I have never heard of. His name was Frederick Anderson. I have yet to confirm whether or not this grave has a headstone. It is one of the largest cemeteries in the country.
With Caroline’s passing, this story in Bristol ends, in most parts. She is without a doubt another example in my Family Tree of a woman whose strength can only be described as fierce, if not unrelenting. With her death, Bart and Rebecca moved out of Windsor Terrace, and into Green Street. The Wertheim story now moves solely to Wales, and I will continue to tell the story of Samuel and in particular his daughter, Caroline. Caroline born 1876, is my great, great grandmother, and had an interesting story of her own to tell.
That in mind, Samuel’s life was not done with yet. His odd actions had by no means not ended!
Sunday, 13 June 2010
Sunday, 23 May 2010
Death and Diaspora : Part Ten
Events in the 1870’s had marked the Wertheim family. It had also changed them. With Samuel’s activities and brushes with the law that spanned a decade and a half, Moses turned on his son, and had banished him. Caroline seems to have not had a say in this action, despite the two being devoted and closer than most couples were, and even are today. This is not hyperbolic.
Furthermore, Samuel had married, and had produced children with his wife Elizabeth. But Amelia had also been banished and had come into contact with her brother Samuel again. She brought bad news, that their father was terminally ill, and that their brother Baruch had died too, something I forgot to mention in my previous posting. He had died of a ruptured bowl…not very pleasant at all. This left Samuel the only male Wertheim left and after Baruch’s death there were only three male Wertheim’s belonging to this family in the United Kingdom, one of which was near death. The name was in danger of dying out.
But Moses was not a bitter man. He relinquished his extradition of Samuel and wished to have him come home to say his goodbyes. Samuel then appears to have made the critical decision to not return. He did not wish to see his father, not after their past, despite him, in the grand scheme of things, being the one in the wrong. Yet the decision was made, and Samuel remained in Bristol. This also meant he refused to introduce his parents to their first two grandchildren. Whatever the reason, it remained true in practice, and he never saw his father again.
For Moses was now, a very ill man. His cancer of the stomach had spread into his legs and he could not walk. He was bedridden and uncomfortable, in great pain and quiet distress. Caroline feared for his life, and so did he. Amelia was summoned back to Bedminster and without Samuel; she visited her father at 50 Windsor Terrace. The scene was sombre. The great dream that had brought Moses to Britain had manifested to be everything he did not wish for. The family he wished for, and that they should grow up and old, marry and be successful…had barely survived at this point. Five children of fourteen remained, with inclusive of those five had gone abroad. Only the remaining two visited him, and so he cherished the time he had left, as Caroline looked on, like a wilting flower about to lose its head. But her pain, she kept locked away. By spring 1880, she knew that she would lose her husband in a matter of weeks.
But Moses kept on going, prolonging the inevitable, and Samuel was once again invited back to Bristol. He refused again. The lapsed Jew had grown very old now, although seventy-four, he appeared as if eighty. His beard had calmed to grey and so had his hair. The fight lasted for another three months, and on April 24 1880, he slipped into unconsciousness, much to Caroline’s distress. But the final hours of their life together were transpiring before them on their bed in Windsor Terrace.
Moses passed away some time later. Caroline’s heart broke immediately.
Following the silence of Moses’ breathing, Caroline was thrown into a fit of hysterical wailing. She fell to her knees as she clasped her husband and buried her head in his chest. The doctor that had been sent for, together with Rebecca, her husband Bart, and her sister Amelia, attempted to calm her down, which eventually they did, but the woman was clearly devastated and all the pain she had endured during her life suddenly rushed out. And her grief was total. After forty-three years of marriage, the man with a dream had gone before her. All she had left now were her daughters. She thought that perhaps Samuel would come back one day, but he did not. Moses was buried two days later in St Phillip’s Cemetery, Bristol. Today, however, the location has been lost, and the stone has long gone too, if there was one. The beginning and end of Moses’ journey on earth will remain a mystery now, for eternity. But at least I know the area where he lies.
After the death of her husband, Caroline broke up. Emotionally and physically she became drained. Her hair turned grey in weeks, she refused to eat and her sleep was disturbed by an ode of cognition that she seems to demonstrate, as if ritual. After her daughter Amelia returned to Wales, Rebecca and Bart Gidley moved in to Windsor Terrace to be with their mother. But she continued to deteriorate. For months after Moses’ death, Caroline would often lock herself in her room, and insert a handkerchief through the lock to stop her daughter from getting in. On one occasion she began hallucinating that Rebecca in fact wanted to kill her. She began waking up in the middle of the night, screaming “Murder!” and that she had seen ghosts and fairies. She would spend hours, gazing out of the bedroom window, rocking back and forth on her chair, back and forth, back and forth, as if somehow, she thought it would bring Moses back. She somehow thought, if she minded about him enough, he would see her. Everything about this strong woman fell apart about her. So Rebecca decided she needed help.
What happens next, I find hard to comprehend, but it did happen. Caroline was seen by a doctor and he concluded that she was a lunatic. This decision recorded, she was taken to the Stapleford Lunatic Asylum, and labelled a Lunatic there. Rebecca had done all she could have possibly done, but on January 27 1881 it became too much. Caroline spent five months in Stapleford asylum, alone, cold with winter’s chill, and silent with grief.
However sad and lonely Caroline felt, however lost she seemed, she was not. The staff in Stapleford genuinely helped her recover from the death of her husband. She still missed him like hell, and on occasion she still broke down into tears, but they had saved her from insanity, maybe even suicide. Who knows? They kept her on a diet of beef tea and arrowroot, and after she began to sleep whole nights through, and talk again, she could peacefully talk to people about her husband. She seems to have rediscovered her strength, in what was arguably the biggest test of her life. If she had lost Moses whilst her children were young, things may have been very different, but that should not be contemplated really. What’s the use, after all?
Things briefly got better for Caroline. She moved back in to her home, which was now under Bart Gidley’s name. Things began to settle, and had it not have been for Rebecca and Bart, this temporary bout of dementia may well have killed her. She started smiling again and times moved on. But still she heard not from her son, over in Wales. Mind you, he was a man occupied too…
Furthermore, Samuel had married, and had produced children with his wife Elizabeth. But Amelia had also been banished and had come into contact with her brother Samuel again. She brought bad news, that their father was terminally ill, and that their brother Baruch had died too, something I forgot to mention in my previous posting. He had died of a ruptured bowl…not very pleasant at all. This left Samuel the only male Wertheim left and after Baruch’s death there were only three male Wertheim’s belonging to this family in the United Kingdom, one of which was near death. The name was in danger of dying out.
But Moses was not a bitter man. He relinquished his extradition of Samuel and wished to have him come home to say his goodbyes. Samuel then appears to have made the critical decision to not return. He did not wish to see his father, not after their past, despite him, in the grand scheme of things, being the one in the wrong. Yet the decision was made, and Samuel remained in Bristol. This also meant he refused to introduce his parents to their first two grandchildren. Whatever the reason, it remained true in practice, and he never saw his father again.
For Moses was now, a very ill man. His cancer of the stomach had spread into his legs and he could not walk. He was bedridden and uncomfortable, in great pain and quiet distress. Caroline feared for his life, and so did he. Amelia was summoned back to Bedminster and without Samuel; she visited her father at 50 Windsor Terrace. The scene was sombre. The great dream that had brought Moses to Britain had manifested to be everything he did not wish for. The family he wished for, and that they should grow up and old, marry and be successful…had barely survived at this point. Five children of fourteen remained, with inclusive of those five had gone abroad. Only the remaining two visited him, and so he cherished the time he had left, as Caroline looked on, like a wilting flower about to lose its head. But her pain, she kept locked away. By spring 1880, she knew that she would lose her husband in a matter of weeks.
But Moses kept on going, prolonging the inevitable, and Samuel was once again invited back to Bristol. He refused again. The lapsed Jew had grown very old now, although seventy-four, he appeared as if eighty. His beard had calmed to grey and so had his hair. The fight lasted for another three months, and on April 24 1880, he slipped into unconsciousness, much to Caroline’s distress. But the final hours of their life together were transpiring before them on their bed in Windsor Terrace.
Moses passed away some time later. Caroline’s heart broke immediately.
Following the silence of Moses’ breathing, Caroline was thrown into a fit of hysterical wailing. She fell to her knees as she clasped her husband and buried her head in his chest. The doctor that had been sent for, together with Rebecca, her husband Bart, and her sister Amelia, attempted to calm her down, which eventually they did, but the woman was clearly devastated and all the pain she had endured during her life suddenly rushed out. And her grief was total. After forty-three years of marriage, the man with a dream had gone before her. All she had left now were her daughters. She thought that perhaps Samuel would come back one day, but he did not. Moses was buried two days later in St Phillip’s Cemetery, Bristol. Today, however, the location has been lost, and the stone has long gone too, if there was one. The beginning and end of Moses’ journey on earth will remain a mystery now, for eternity. But at least I know the area where he lies.
After the death of her husband, Caroline broke up. Emotionally and physically she became drained. Her hair turned grey in weeks, she refused to eat and her sleep was disturbed by an ode of cognition that she seems to demonstrate, as if ritual. After her daughter Amelia returned to Wales, Rebecca and Bart Gidley moved in to Windsor Terrace to be with their mother. But she continued to deteriorate. For months after Moses’ death, Caroline would often lock herself in her room, and insert a handkerchief through the lock to stop her daughter from getting in. On one occasion she began hallucinating that Rebecca in fact wanted to kill her. She began waking up in the middle of the night, screaming “Murder!” and that she had seen ghosts and fairies. She would spend hours, gazing out of the bedroom window, rocking back and forth on her chair, back and forth, back and forth, as if somehow, she thought it would bring Moses back. She somehow thought, if she minded about him enough, he would see her. Everything about this strong woman fell apart about her. So Rebecca decided she needed help.
What happens next, I find hard to comprehend, but it did happen. Caroline was seen by a doctor and he concluded that she was a lunatic. This decision recorded, she was taken to the Stapleford Lunatic Asylum, and labelled a Lunatic there. Rebecca had done all she could have possibly done, but on January 27 1881 it became too much. Caroline spent five months in Stapleford asylum, alone, cold with winter’s chill, and silent with grief.
However sad and lonely Caroline felt, however lost she seemed, she was not. The staff in Stapleford genuinely helped her recover from the death of her husband. She still missed him like hell, and on occasion she still broke down into tears, but they had saved her from insanity, maybe even suicide. Who knows? They kept her on a diet of beef tea and arrowroot, and after she began to sleep whole nights through, and talk again, she could peacefully talk to people about her husband. She seems to have rediscovered her strength, in what was arguably the biggest test of her life. If she had lost Moses whilst her children were young, things may have been very different, but that should not be contemplated really. What’s the use, after all?
Things briefly got better for Caroline. She moved back in to her home, which was now under Bart Gidley’s name. Things began to settle, and had it not have been for Rebecca and Bart, this temporary bout of dementia may well have killed her. She started smiling again and times moved on. But still she heard not from her son, over in Wales. Mind you, he was a man occupied too…
Wednesday, 19 May 2010
Death and Diaspora - Part Nine
At the ending of his sentence, Samuel Wertheim was free. Banished from his home never to return, his parents lost contact with their eldest son, and eldest surviving child. As time passed, the Wertheim family of Bristol forgot Samuel had ever existed.
Yet in Ebbw Vale, the place where Samuel had decided to stop running, he had started afresh, and was employed as a boiler maker near the steelworks. Very soon after beginning his job here he met a haulier named Price Edwards, was 30 years Samuel’s senior, but had a daughter named Elizabeth who was seeking a husband. In no time at all, the two fell for one another. They also shared the same birthday – January 5, albeit Elizabeth herself was nine years Samuel’s junior. They married in November 1872 in Bedwelty Registry Office. In effect Samuel had lied his way into wedlock. The only person outside of Bristol who knew of his spell in prison were his parents. But perhaps in reality it was not that serious, theft. It would be a different story if he had hacked off limbs of prostitutes or tried to kill somebody. And so Samuel’s past died a death. From 1871 until 2007 it stayed hidden, until I began delving into his past. But this secret he kept would always be on borrowed time.
Elizabeth Edwards belonged to a non-conformist family, which means her baptism may well not exist, I certainly have had great difficulty tracking it down or that of her parents, Price Edwards and Sophia Thomas. The same applies to the children she had with Samuel. First, there was a son in 1874, and Moses he was named. Then on June 8 1876 there came Caroline Rebecca. Samuel had a reason to give a toss in life again. He had a conviction to provide, a man who in his own childhood had been neglected. He was beginning to build something and although he missed his parents he had his own family now. And to his great surprise, his youngest sister, Amelia, unknowing as to where her brother had gone, had found a man named Naylor and they had moved to Cardiff. It is with this that something truly amazing happened, according to family legend.
Amelia and her husband Frederick Naylor, who was a grocer with ambition in business, had decided to move to Cardiff, after they had married in Bristol in 1879. Their hearts were heavy and in a complete fluke, the details of which are lost, Samuel somehow found his sister on the other side of Wales. It amazes me to think simply “what were the chances of that happening?” But reunite they did, and Amelia (who had changed her name to Frances for an unknown reason” had some news for her brother. Back in Bristol, another family argument had taken place, and Moses had banished her too, for apparently refusing to marry a man without any religious ties, which paints Moses as a hypocrite, for he himself was not a practising Jew. Sometimes Moses Wertheim Snr seems to be a man who although completely devoted to his family seems to have had some disagreements with himself sometimes, and in turn punished his children for it. But not his wife. Never Caroline.
Amelia aka Frances also fled west, and after this revelation she had some bad news for Samuel. She told him that their father was beginning to weaken. His knees were weak and he was suffering with stomach cancer. The both, however, were both banished from visiting, which seems harsh. Moses was dying, so let us turn our attention back now, to Bedminster, Bristol…
Yet in Ebbw Vale, the place where Samuel had decided to stop running, he had started afresh, and was employed as a boiler maker near the steelworks. Very soon after beginning his job here he met a haulier named Price Edwards, was 30 years Samuel’s senior, but had a daughter named Elizabeth who was seeking a husband. In no time at all, the two fell for one another. They also shared the same birthday – January 5, albeit Elizabeth herself was nine years Samuel’s junior. They married in November 1872 in Bedwelty Registry Office. In effect Samuel had lied his way into wedlock. The only person outside of Bristol who knew of his spell in prison were his parents. But perhaps in reality it was not that serious, theft. It would be a different story if he had hacked off limbs of prostitutes or tried to kill somebody. And so Samuel’s past died a death. From 1871 until 2007 it stayed hidden, until I began delving into his past. But this secret he kept would always be on borrowed time.
Elizabeth Edwards belonged to a non-conformist family, which means her baptism may well not exist, I certainly have had great difficulty tracking it down or that of her parents, Price Edwards and Sophia Thomas. The same applies to the children she had with Samuel. First, there was a son in 1874, and Moses he was named. Then on June 8 1876 there came Caroline Rebecca. Samuel had a reason to give a toss in life again. He had a conviction to provide, a man who in his own childhood had been neglected. He was beginning to build something and although he missed his parents he had his own family now. And to his great surprise, his youngest sister, Amelia, unknowing as to where her brother had gone, had found a man named Naylor and they had moved to Cardiff. It is with this that something truly amazing happened, according to family legend.
Amelia and her husband Frederick Naylor, who was a grocer with ambition in business, had decided to move to Cardiff, after they had married in Bristol in 1879. Their hearts were heavy and in a complete fluke, the details of which are lost, Samuel somehow found his sister on the other side of Wales. It amazes me to think simply “what were the chances of that happening?” But reunite they did, and Amelia (who had changed her name to Frances for an unknown reason” had some news for her brother. Back in Bristol, another family argument had taken place, and Moses had banished her too, for apparently refusing to marry a man without any religious ties, which paints Moses as a hypocrite, for he himself was not a practising Jew. Sometimes Moses Wertheim Snr seems to be a man who although completely devoted to his family seems to have had some disagreements with himself sometimes, and in turn punished his children for it. But not his wife. Never Caroline.
Amelia aka Frances also fled west, and after this revelation she had some bad news for Samuel. She told him that their father was beginning to weaken. His knees were weak and he was suffering with stomach cancer. The both, however, were both banished from visiting, which seems harsh. Moses was dying, so let us turn our attention back now, to Bedminster, Bristol…
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
Death and Diaspora : Part Eight
In April 1855, the Wertheim’s were verging on poverty. Samuel, feeling neglected by his mother who had been in constant attendance of her ill children, had left him essentially to the discipline of his father, who was always out on the streets working. Samuel decided to turn to the other side of the law.
Aged just 14, one spring evening just before closing, bootmaker Mr Clarke was out the back of his shop polishing shoes. Samuel, and another lad, John Clements, seized the opportunity to sneak into the shop and steal a pair of boots. Once they had done this, they proceeded to a street stall where a woman was selling food. The boys bought some food but conned the woman into believing they had no money, and so they left the boots with her until they returned. They never did return, and on hearing the boots had been stolen the following week, the woman decided to go to the police. Samuel and John were charged with robbery.
Samuel, was sentenced to six months hard labour, and he was also whipped. He caused a great deal of disappointment amongst his parents, who punished him in their own way. He must have had a few nights without supper!
But Samuel did not stop there. When he was allowed to go free into the arms of his mother, his mind was already transfixed on his next move. In June 1856, he saw a woman walking alone by Temple Meads train station, and after a struggle with her, the teenager stole her purse, which was on her person. He then fled the scene. However, the woman identified the fifteen year old Samuel and he was detained by police, who charged him in late July. Samuel was acquitted in November. He had escaped justice, and this gave him thirst to steal again, and again, and again. His confidence had soared.
Soared so much in fact, that over the course of the next decade, Samuel would appear in court twice, and his crimes were reported in the Bristol Mercury as he was arrested for almost every one of them. Some he was acquitted of and on one occasion he was charged with stealing a piece of meat from the butcher. For this particular crime, he spent four years in prison, from 1857 to 1861, being released just before the census that year, and only days after his twentieth birthday. Yet, his biggest crime was yet to come. In 1866 Samuel plotted his defining crime. He would frequent the Seven Stars pub in Bristol, and plot with his friends exactly what and when this crime would be. They came to the conclusion that they would break into the slaughterhouse nearby, and steal some pork, which Samuel would hide in his house. “My father is a Jew” he would say. “He won’t eat the pork, nobody will suspect it’s there”. So, after the robbery took place in October 1866, the pork was hidden in the Wertheim household, with Moses and Caroline blissfully unaware. Samuel presumably hid it in the cellar, as the stench would have been noticed had it been hidden in the living quarters of the house. But Samuel did get caught, and on being caught cases were reopened of unsolved burglaries in the area. Samuel was tried for both crimes and found guilty. He was sentenced to seven years in prison, to be served in Kent. His father was so disgusted with this act of crime and offence to his religion, that he banished Samuel from ever entering into his house again. Samuel appears alone and miserable in the 1871 census, in Gillingham prison, Kent. What is odd about this, is that Samuel seems to think he is married!
Samuel’s antics had repercussions for the entire family. Moses felt hurt, cheated, and very disappointed in his own son. He moved the family from Temple to another area of the Bristol city, Bedminster. He became a Jeweller here and life was interestingly different once the move had been made. He saw his daughters marry too. Rebecca had married a Cooper named William Bartholomew Gidley, and they continued to live with Moses and Caroline. Louisa had married a man named Frederick Brandt, but remains a mystery, as she completely disappears! And Amelia, although she too was banished by her father for insensitivities towards his faith, was also banished. She fled to Wales and married a grocer turned businessman, Frederick Naylor.
Interesting it is therefore, that Samuel chose Wales as his new home. When he was released due to good behaviour in summer 1871, he fled west, going back to Bristol and, when he discovered his parents no longer occupied the house where he was banished from, carried on and seems to have cut them off. He had intended on going back, but they were nowhere to be seen. So he kept on going…right until he reached the Welsh border, and he crossed that too. He could be anybody he wanted to be, and he did exactly that. He looked for work as a Boiler Maker, and then a certain young woman seems to have caught his eye…
Aged just 14, one spring evening just before closing, bootmaker Mr Clarke was out the back of his shop polishing shoes. Samuel, and another lad, John Clements, seized the opportunity to sneak into the shop and steal a pair of boots. Once they had done this, they proceeded to a street stall where a woman was selling food. The boys bought some food but conned the woman into believing they had no money, and so they left the boots with her until they returned. They never did return, and on hearing the boots had been stolen the following week, the woman decided to go to the police. Samuel and John were charged with robbery.
Samuel, was sentenced to six months hard labour, and he was also whipped. He caused a great deal of disappointment amongst his parents, who punished him in their own way. He must have had a few nights without supper!
But Samuel did not stop there. When he was allowed to go free into the arms of his mother, his mind was already transfixed on his next move. In June 1856, he saw a woman walking alone by Temple Meads train station, and after a struggle with her, the teenager stole her purse, which was on her person. He then fled the scene. However, the woman identified the fifteen year old Samuel and he was detained by police, who charged him in late July. Samuel was acquitted in November. He had escaped justice, and this gave him thirst to steal again, and again, and again. His confidence had soared.
Soared so much in fact, that over the course of the next decade, Samuel would appear in court twice, and his crimes were reported in the Bristol Mercury as he was arrested for almost every one of them. Some he was acquitted of and on one occasion he was charged with stealing a piece of meat from the butcher. For this particular crime, he spent four years in prison, from 1857 to 1861, being released just before the census that year, and only days after his twentieth birthday. Yet, his biggest crime was yet to come. In 1866 Samuel plotted his defining crime. He would frequent the Seven Stars pub in Bristol, and plot with his friends exactly what and when this crime would be. They came to the conclusion that they would break into the slaughterhouse nearby, and steal some pork, which Samuel would hide in his house. “My father is a Jew” he would say. “He won’t eat the pork, nobody will suspect it’s there”. So, after the robbery took place in October 1866, the pork was hidden in the Wertheim household, with Moses and Caroline blissfully unaware. Samuel presumably hid it in the cellar, as the stench would have been noticed had it been hidden in the living quarters of the house. But Samuel did get caught, and on being caught cases were reopened of unsolved burglaries in the area. Samuel was tried for both crimes and found guilty. He was sentenced to seven years in prison, to be served in Kent. His father was so disgusted with this act of crime and offence to his religion, that he banished Samuel from ever entering into his house again. Samuel appears alone and miserable in the 1871 census, in Gillingham prison, Kent. What is odd about this, is that Samuel seems to think he is married!
Samuel’s antics had repercussions for the entire family. Moses felt hurt, cheated, and very disappointed in his own son. He moved the family from Temple to another area of the Bristol city, Bedminster. He became a Jeweller here and life was interestingly different once the move had been made. He saw his daughters marry too. Rebecca had married a Cooper named William Bartholomew Gidley, and they continued to live with Moses and Caroline. Louisa had married a man named Frederick Brandt, but remains a mystery, as she completely disappears! And Amelia, although she too was banished by her father for insensitivities towards his faith, was also banished. She fled to Wales and married a grocer turned businessman, Frederick Naylor.
Interesting it is therefore, that Samuel chose Wales as his new home. When he was released due to good behaviour in summer 1871, he fled west, going back to Bristol and, when he discovered his parents no longer occupied the house where he was banished from, carried on and seems to have cut them off. He had intended on going back, but they were nowhere to be seen. So he kept on going…right until he reached the Welsh border, and he crossed that too. He could be anybody he wanted to be, and he did exactly that. He looked for work as a Boiler Maker, and then a certain young woman seems to have caught his eye…
Sunday, 18 April 2010
Death and Diaspora : Part Seven
The Wertheim family had survived intact into the middle of the 1850’s. Although children were baptised and buried within weeks of each other, their one common fabric – their parents – had survived, and their mother was of still child bearing age. By 1855, the family were at a turning point in their fortunes. The loss of nearly all of her children had taken a toll on Caroline and Moses was struggling to be strong for his family and still earn a sustainable living. Having less children to feed meant money that was spare, was not ample. The family came into difficulty as Moses struggled to find work that could continue with security. He had spent the last two decades mourning the loss of his children and his wife was, although depressed, determined to have more children. Caroline knew she had to keep producing children. She fell pregnant again in 1855 to a boy, and he was named Solomon James Wertheim.
Solomon, in a seemingly awful display of inherited misfortune, did not survive long. He died just after he turned one, in 1856. Moses wanted another son, as he always feared his one male descendant, Samuel, who was now fourteen, would follow his siblings to the grave, and the Wertheim name would die out in a very short time. He craved legacy, and hoped his son could provide it. Therefore, when Caroline gave birth for the twelfth time on April 4 1857, Moses and she were very happy that Caroline had given birth to twin boys. They were given traditional Jewish names, Baruch and Aaron. Aaron died very soon after birth, but Baruch survived. He was a healthy baby, and the Wertheim collection of children had grown. Two years later, Caroline gave birth for the final time, to a girl who she named Amelia (III). She also survived, as cholera epidemics passed and sanitary conditions improved, although the young still continued to die in abundance. Such was life in mid-Victorian Bristol.
Yet, during this time, something dark was occurring. The business of nurses attending to dying children had meant that Caroline rarely had time to concentrate on her surviving children. This, along with both a small bout of depression and Moses not being in the house unless he was sleeping or eating, meant that the Wertheim children were not receiving the love and care that most do today. They would be left to the outdoors and whatever it held for them, whether it be playing in the streets or going down to the Avon Gorge. Yet, whilst the rest of the children watched the gradual completion of the Clifton Suspension Bridge, Samuel had chosen some very mischievous characters to “hang about” with. With the arrival of a new brother, Samuel also became jealous of the attention Baruch was receiving, as his mother nurtured him, clinging onto the hope that she would not have to bury another child. But although Caroline’s hopes this time were received, Samuel became more dependant to learn from his friends, the closest of whom was another boy, named Samuel Reynolds. The ice-breaker of having a common name bound these two boys for association.
Reynolds and Wertheim would, on occasion, talk about growing up to be famous and rich, and having “all of the money in the world”. Somewhere, between all of the adolescent lust for wealth and the lack of nurture he got at home, Samuel turned to larceny. He thought too, with good intention that maybe if he could steal things, he could give them to his father, so that the family would benefit. He was naive, immature, and prone to looking for ha’pennies on the streets of Bedminster. The clumsiness of the wealthy spilling money unknowingly onto the cobbles gave Samuel an opportunity to entertain himself on a hunt for loose change. And then, he and Reynolds decided they would go that extra mile. Overnight they turned from scroungers into thieves, criminals, junior burglars. Teenage criminal minds were born…
Luckily, I can accurately pinpoint exactly what he got up to...
Solomon, in a seemingly awful display of inherited misfortune, did not survive long. He died just after he turned one, in 1856. Moses wanted another son, as he always feared his one male descendant, Samuel, who was now fourteen, would follow his siblings to the grave, and the Wertheim name would die out in a very short time. He craved legacy, and hoped his son could provide it. Therefore, when Caroline gave birth for the twelfth time on April 4 1857, Moses and she were very happy that Caroline had given birth to twin boys. They were given traditional Jewish names, Baruch and Aaron. Aaron died very soon after birth, but Baruch survived. He was a healthy baby, and the Wertheim collection of children had grown. Two years later, Caroline gave birth for the final time, to a girl who she named Amelia (III). She also survived, as cholera epidemics passed and sanitary conditions improved, although the young still continued to die in abundance. Such was life in mid-Victorian Bristol.
Yet, during this time, something dark was occurring. The business of nurses attending to dying children had meant that Caroline rarely had time to concentrate on her surviving children. This, along with both a small bout of depression and Moses not being in the house unless he was sleeping or eating, meant that the Wertheim children were not receiving the love and care that most do today. They would be left to the outdoors and whatever it held for them, whether it be playing in the streets or going down to the Avon Gorge. Yet, whilst the rest of the children watched the gradual completion of the Clifton Suspension Bridge, Samuel had chosen some very mischievous characters to “hang about” with. With the arrival of a new brother, Samuel also became jealous of the attention Baruch was receiving, as his mother nurtured him, clinging onto the hope that she would not have to bury another child. But although Caroline’s hopes this time were received, Samuel became more dependant to learn from his friends, the closest of whom was another boy, named Samuel Reynolds. The ice-breaker of having a common name bound these two boys for association.
Reynolds and Wertheim would, on occasion, talk about growing up to be famous and rich, and having “all of the money in the world”. Somewhere, between all of the adolescent lust for wealth and the lack of nurture he got at home, Samuel turned to larceny. He thought too, with good intention that maybe if he could steal things, he could give them to his father, so that the family would benefit. He was naive, immature, and prone to looking for ha’pennies on the streets of Bedminster. The clumsiness of the wealthy spilling money unknowingly onto the cobbles gave Samuel an opportunity to entertain himself on a hunt for loose change. And then, he and Reynolds decided they would go that extra mile. Overnight they turned from scroungers into thieves, criminals, junior burglars. Teenage criminal minds were born…
Luckily, I can accurately pinpoint exactly what he got up to...
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Death and Diaspora : Part Six
Just days after Aaron died, Caroline became pregnant. This may be just a coincidence, or it may be Moses panicking! This is and never shall be known. She was still of child bearing age, and there was no real reason why she should stop having children, despite being increasingly exhausted. There must have been some moments in the 1840’s when she thought “what is the point”. She was giving birth only to bury, feeding only to see her children reduced to skeletons through illness.
In all this confusion of emotion, death struck the Wertheim family again, or should I say, struck Caroline. Just a few weeks after Aaron died, Caroline lost her father, James Westcott. The cholera had mown him down too. This horrid, vile disease, showed no mercy, and had claimed both young and old now in the same family. James was 72 years of age at the time he died, and Caroline lost one half of the two people who had been with her through thick and thin. As devastated as she was, she could not weep for her father. She had known him all her life and he had passed her on to Moses, entrusting her care to him. James would have died a happy man knowing his daughters were all happily married, even if he had had to have signed the death certificates for most of his grandchildren.
In death, James had left no will. His money was sent to unknown locations, despite not having much. Cabinet making was all he knew, and after his death in the winter of 1849, Caroline was left unto her own family.
And as the months after James passed by, Moses and Caroline were once again blessed. Another girl was born in summer 1850, and she was named Amelia Elizabeth. In the following years, Amelia would sadly die, as her siblings before her tragically did. She died, in actual fact, three months before the birth of the next Wertheim child, Sarah. Sarah remains a mystery to us, because after the age of eighteen, she disappears. Completely, utterly, disappears. The journey to locate her may be a long one, as we do not even know if she married. She completely and utterly disappears. A mystery in her own right. But she is not forgotten. Typical of this family perhaps, that those who survived are the hardest to track down.
Yet, for those who were left behind, life was about to take a very interesting turn. Moses and Caroline, together with their surviving children, Samuel, Rebecca, Louisa III and Sarah. By 1854, the money accumulated by this family seems to have taken somewhat of a dip. Moses, by now was struggling, for reasons unknown. His eldest surviving son, Samuel, decided to take things into his own hands, as his childhood friends seemed to enter into the wrong sort of circles. Here we see the beginnings of the real change that leads ultimately to the Wertheim family splitting in two. Not for the better, either…
In all this confusion of emotion, death struck the Wertheim family again, or should I say, struck Caroline. Just a few weeks after Aaron died, Caroline lost her father, James Westcott. The cholera had mown him down too. This horrid, vile disease, showed no mercy, and had claimed both young and old now in the same family. James was 72 years of age at the time he died, and Caroline lost one half of the two people who had been with her through thick and thin. As devastated as she was, she could not weep for her father. She had known him all her life and he had passed her on to Moses, entrusting her care to him. James would have died a happy man knowing his daughters were all happily married, even if he had had to have signed the death certificates for most of his grandchildren.
In death, James had left no will. His money was sent to unknown locations, despite not having much. Cabinet making was all he knew, and after his death in the winter of 1849, Caroline was left unto her own family.
And as the months after James passed by, Moses and Caroline were once again blessed. Another girl was born in summer 1850, and she was named Amelia Elizabeth. In the following years, Amelia would sadly die, as her siblings before her tragically did. She died, in actual fact, three months before the birth of the next Wertheim child, Sarah. Sarah remains a mystery to us, because after the age of eighteen, she disappears. Completely, utterly, disappears. The journey to locate her may be a long one, as we do not even know if she married. She completely and utterly disappears. A mystery in her own right. But she is not forgotten. Typical of this family perhaps, that those who survived are the hardest to track down.
Yet, for those who were left behind, life was about to take a very interesting turn. Moses and Caroline, together with their surviving children, Samuel, Rebecca, Louisa III and Sarah. By 1854, the money accumulated by this family seems to have taken somewhat of a dip. Moses, by now was struggling, for reasons unknown. His eldest surviving son, Samuel, decided to take things into his own hands, as his childhood friends seemed to enter into the wrong sort of circles. Here we see the beginnings of the real change that leads ultimately to the Wertheim family splitting in two. Not for the better, either…
Friday, 19 March 2010
Death and Diaspora : Part Five
Caroline had, at the time of Hannah’s death, given birth to six children. Now, only half that number remained alive. Caroline still had Amelia. She still had Samuel. She still had Rebecca, and of course, Moses her beloved husband, and her father James Westcott. She had suffered already too much grief but was by no means alone with it. People in the street where the Wertheim’s lived often looked unto the house where there had been all of this loss, and secrete a look of pity to Moses on his way to work, and Caroline as she made the miniature journey to her father’s house. James had now retired, and in 1845 was aged 67. Later however, sometime shortly after Hannah’s death, he moves, this time into the Clifton area. This is the last we hear of James for a few years. Caroline must have felt the distance grow between her and her father, despite how close recent events had brought them so much closer.
But Caroline gave birth again, in 1846. Yes, you guessed it reader…another daughter! Once again, in an avid attempt to keep the name in the family, the name Louisa was chosen for a third time. Louisa III was born into a family changing face. Two years later, along came another child, this time a son, and he was named Aaron Isaac. He was Caroline’s eighth child, fifth surviving.
Yet, as 1845 was such a turning point for the Wertheim’s, so was 1849. The family in the 1840’s had so suddenly become a target for tragedy and a such a symbol for sorrow, it is perhaps difficult to realise just how beaten down Moses and Caroline had become. The business of life rocketed for them, and too many times in so little space had they visited the cemetery where their daughters lay rested.
However, 1849 brought with it peril nothing like Moses and Caroline had ever seen before. In early 1849, their first daughter Amelia passed away, the last surviving of the set of twins that were the first Caroline bore. She died of phthisis, a wasting condition that weakened organ tissue. But even after yet another death, the family carried on. Caroline had begun to develop a thicker skin, and as sad it is to state, she grew and learned to expect her children to die, living in the hope that at least one might survive to produce her with grandchildren. Moses had a much more difficult time accepting this. He was a sensitive man, and the times had failed to harden him.
In 1849, terror hit Bristol. An epidemic of cholera swept through the city in one of the worst epidemic’s in nineteenth century England. It came in July, and lasted for three months. It preyed on the young, old, strong, feeble, and men, women and children of all classes. Despite an increase in hygienic care in the region, cholera could not be stopped. Why? It was in the water. In the very water that kept the Wertheim’s alive. In the drains, the streets, and in cups on the dinner table. And it had the Wertheim family in its sights. Sometime in August, Aaron Isaac contracted it, and the medicine men came to the house in Cathay. At this time, as in the 1851 census two years later, the family were now lodging in the home of a Beer house keeper named Elizabeth Jenkins. Somehow, Caroline had found time to work from this house, as a Tailoress with a fellow lodger, Rebecca Adams.
Perhaps with this slight neglect, Caroline made her youngest child vulnerable. She chose a wrong time to take a focus away from her children, in an effort to make more money to keep them safe. In a way, she was very much holding a double edged sword. In her attempt to keep poverty and disease away, she had in fact left the door open for it.
Cholera hit the house in September sometime 1849, and claimed little Aaron in October. So much loss, so much hurt, so much grief. Why her? Why them? A sign of the times or an unbearable sense of a previous sin of some sort?
Whatever it was, Caroline was about to lose one of the most important figures in her life. She had survived most of the worst, but was by no means through it yet…
But Caroline gave birth again, in 1846. Yes, you guessed it reader…another daughter! Once again, in an avid attempt to keep the name in the family, the name Louisa was chosen for a third time. Louisa III was born into a family changing face. Two years later, along came another child, this time a son, and he was named Aaron Isaac. He was Caroline’s eighth child, fifth surviving.
Yet, as 1845 was such a turning point for the Wertheim’s, so was 1849. The family in the 1840’s had so suddenly become a target for tragedy and a such a symbol for sorrow, it is perhaps difficult to realise just how beaten down Moses and Caroline had become. The business of life rocketed for them, and too many times in so little space had they visited the cemetery where their daughters lay rested.
However, 1849 brought with it peril nothing like Moses and Caroline had ever seen before. In early 1849, their first daughter Amelia passed away, the last surviving of the set of twins that were the first Caroline bore. She died of phthisis, a wasting condition that weakened organ tissue. But even after yet another death, the family carried on. Caroline had begun to develop a thicker skin, and as sad it is to state, she grew and learned to expect her children to die, living in the hope that at least one might survive to produce her with grandchildren. Moses had a much more difficult time accepting this. He was a sensitive man, and the times had failed to harden him.
In 1849, terror hit Bristol. An epidemic of cholera swept through the city in one of the worst epidemic’s in nineteenth century England. It came in July, and lasted for three months. It preyed on the young, old, strong, feeble, and men, women and children of all classes. Despite an increase in hygienic care in the region, cholera could not be stopped. Why? It was in the water. In the very water that kept the Wertheim’s alive. In the drains, the streets, and in cups on the dinner table. And it had the Wertheim family in its sights. Sometime in August, Aaron Isaac contracted it, and the medicine men came to the house in Cathay. At this time, as in the 1851 census two years later, the family were now lodging in the home of a Beer house keeper named Elizabeth Jenkins. Somehow, Caroline had found time to work from this house, as a Tailoress with a fellow lodger, Rebecca Adams.
Perhaps with this slight neglect, Caroline made her youngest child vulnerable. She chose a wrong time to take a focus away from her children, in an effort to make more money to keep them safe. In a way, she was very much holding a double edged sword. In her attempt to keep poverty and disease away, she had in fact left the door open for it.
Cholera hit the house in September sometime 1849, and claimed little Aaron in October. So much loss, so much hurt, so much grief. Why her? Why them? A sign of the times or an unbearable sense of a previous sin of some sort?
Whatever it was, Caroline was about to lose one of the most important figures in her life. She had survived most of the worst, but was by no means through it yet…
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