Day 23 - Hedging my bets

This morning after grabbing a ham and cheese croissant from the patisserie I wandered around to the Church to see if I could take a look inside. In the graveyard I noticed a stone for James Hedges and then it dawned on me as to why I had come to Abingdon! It was the birthplace of one Stephen Hedges and it was between here and Oxford where he had been involved in a spot of lead stealing - the crime which led (pardon the pun) to his transportation to Australia. You can read the full story here.

Sunday service had just finished so I wandered in to check it out and it was quite an interesting church - a friendly fellow showed me around and explained some of its more interesting points. There were paintings from the 1300s which are some of the oldest examples in England still surviving in their original position. As well the church because of its proximity to the river was expanded in a square fashion rather than your traditional long remodelling.

Day 22 - Abingdon

Perhaps the travel weary is starting to hit but today I got to Abingdon and had no idea why I had included it in the schedule.

The day started off at Waterloo where I awoke early and headed off to find White Hart St in Lambeth where Isaac Thomas and his lovely lady wife Ms Isabella Juggins formerly lived at number 11. Looking at the map the area was quite familiar - not surprising as I had been living in Lambeth for a year but there was something about the particular crossroads that twigged some distant memory.

When I got to the area I realised that the pub marked as The White Hart just around the corner from the street was the one that Diom and I met at the first time he asked me out. Now called Tommyfields.

Heading down the street it was sorry to see that the actual house at Number 11 had been knocked down for a vast expanse of council houses. But 1 and 3 still looked like original Victorian Terraces so I supposed it was the same style of house back in the day when Isaac and Isabella lived there.

I trekked back to the hostel grabbed my bags and made the journey to Abingdon. Bus to Oxford and then another short bus ride to Abingdon. Arriving at the B&B I was met by ... well no one. No answer. So I waited out the front for the owners to return. After about half an hour I figured I might check out the patisserie across the road while I waited and what a wise choice it was - with a walnut and stilton quiche in hand the wait seemed less annoying.

Eventually the owner returned from Specsavers to let me in - the house was old and well done up with extremely squeaky staircases. I dropped off the bags and then headed out to see what Abingdon could offer me and hopefully twig my memory as to why I had come here in the first place.

There's a lovely river and lots of fit young lads rowing up and down it as it seems this and rugby are the sports of the area. Some wonderful old ruins as well of a Norman Abbey.

None the wiser as to why I came I headed back to the room and settled in to their on again off again Internet to try and have a convo with the parents.

Day 20 and 21 - The National Archives

Thursday I headed out to go to the Archives from Diom's place in Croydon. On the way to the station I received a call from one of the staff from my old school Lambeth College who as it happens lives out that way. So I headed over to Aman's for a cup of tea and a quick catch up on all things Egyptian.
Now running a bit late I got my skates on and motored towards Kew Gardens via Clapham Junction and Richmond in search of the National Archives. Thankfully it was well signposted from the station as it must be the main attraction in the area.

As I walked in I noticed a sign for a talk that began in 10 minutes on researching Crimes and Criminal Records in the 1700s and 1800s - what a stroke of luck! I lockered up my contraband and placed my pencil, notes and camera in my see through bag. I headed up the 'talks' room and took my place amongst the assembled throng of retirees and researchers. The talk told me alot of things I already knew but helped clarify what I might find in the Archives and what I would need to track down at County Records Offices. Also enlightened me to the prospect of chasing up records such as Gaol transfer books. Question time made me realise that I now know a bit on the subject of transported convicts as my eyes rolled several times at some of the other's questions.

Talk over I headed for the desk with the big sign that said NEW TO KEW - the chap there didn't know much but said go and ask the red desk. I went to the red desk - the pointed me in the direction of the red books. I found in the red books the document numbers I needed and then headed for a terminal to order them. It was then I realised I needed A READERS TICKET.

SOOOO it was up to the second floor to see the very bored young man who handed out the tickets - I had to fill in the form which required proof of my identity as well as proof of my residential address. Being of 'no fixed abode' this was somewhat of a problem - I explained my dilemma to the nice young man and he thankfully agreed to allow my now out of date driver's licence as proof that at some stage I did indeed have an abode.

The only thing that stood in my way now was the quiz on how to handle documents - which took another half an hour to complete. Finally it was mine! But as 'last orders' was fast approaching I realised I would have to wait until tomorrow to begin exploring the Assizes Records.

The next day I moved my bags from Diom's to Waterloo to the Walrus. Then back out to Kew. Knowing what I wanted and having my readers ticket in hand I plastic bagged up and raced up to level 1 to place my order. Wait time 40 minutes. Well enough time for a cup of tea and an egg sandwich - seemed like a fitting meal in such a place. I listened to the surrounding tables eagerly discussing their finds and sharing the sausage rolls they'd brought from home along with a plate of chips from the caf'.

I reckoned 40 mins must have been up by then so I headed up to 'The Reading Room' to find my assigned table - and what a beauty it was. All set up with a terrific stand for my camera which I duly screwed in and then sat swivelling in my chair waiting for my documents. There are corresponding clear lockers where your documents are delivered so I kept getting up to go and see if a delivery had been made. Nope - nope - getting bored I took a picture of myself sleeping while I waited.

It really was very quiet in there - people studiously reading documents, typing them up busily being busy. I went and sat by the lockers waiting listening to the young staff on the other side give reviews of the latest sci fi trailers they had just seen. Finally one of my allowed 3 arrived. Christmas - I hurried it back to the desk, arranged my foam cushions and delicately turned page after page until I found the date of the Carter trials - of which I did not know the date but thankfully found it was the Lent 1795 Worcester Assizes. There were many more documents available for this so I photographed what I needed and waited for the next document.

Did you know that Julian is only 23? I was surprised also along with many of the facts I found out sitting behind the perspex wall waiting. I watched box after box come up the conveyor belt from the depths of the archives. But eventually more came and I had some of the details on Elizabeth Wilmott and John Gosling trial as well.

Next I recived the summation of the Assizes with included the below:


It would appear that both John and William's sentence was requested to be changed to transportation. Their trial took place in the Lent 1795 Assizes which is almost 2 years before William sailed to Australia on the Barwell. If indeed both sentences were changed to transportation then perhaps instead of being hung as previously thought John may have died in prison? This will require further research of gaol records and see if we can find the death records for John as well.

My next lots came into the second floor room - big items and maps. Oooo what could they be? So I headed upstairs to the document collection room and the stressed out loner working behind the counter - surely some of the stand around lot downstairs might be dispatched upstairs to assist?

Anyway here I had rolled up bits of paper. Rolled up for god knows how many years and the tough paper of the time made it difficult to unroll. I was worried that I would rip something. A kindly security guard brought me over a sand black pudding to assist with hold the beasites down as my two tiny sandbags weren't doing the trick. Realising these would be impossible to photograph I've ordered copies to be made and emailed to me of the pages that mention William and John Carter and Elizabeth Wilmott. Last orders were called and in my rush to make it to the copying room I hastily unscrewed my camera and as I removed it from the frame the batteries flew out around the desk with a loud clank. I could feel the shhhhhhhhhhhhhh from the quiet ones around. Time to go - but I will be back archives!

Day 19 - On Location

Today I headed back to London for a few days to help a friend of mine Kunda in starting to film his movie.

Here's a pic taken by his niece as she was learning to be a photographer!

Day 18 - Free Day

Spent the day resting up - and starting to sort out the tree on ancestry.co.uk. Going to take some time to go through every person and get all the facts sorted out.

Took several breaks to watch the seagulls coast on the breezes - lovely spot on the West Hoe of Plymouth.

Day 17 - Cornworthy and Dittisham

For today's adventure I hopped on the train to Totnes which is a delightful little town "an intriguing mix of historic market town and bohemian culture". IE there are hippies in them there towns as illustrated by the number of Indian and Nepalese artifacts shops and fair trade coffee purveyors. It also hosts a costume fair weekly and has a particularly historic residence - "The 16th-century Bogan House is the Devonshire Collection of Period Costume, another high-quality museum. Exhibitions on specific themes change every year. " As far as I am aware Bogan costumes don't change that much - perhaps a new pair of trackies if K-Mart has a special on but it was interesting to note that Bogan culture goes back to the 16th century.

Given that the bus to Cornworthy goes maybe twice a week I hailed a cab and asked the cabbie if he wouldn't mind driving me around the countryside for the next couple of hours. He seemed quite stoked at the idea and the price was reasonable so with my own personal chauffeur I headed off into the rolling green countryside.

Cornworthy is a tiny village in South Devon and the farms surrounding were the home of the Bulley line of our ancestors.



You have our grandmother Mary May (Smith).

Her mother was Rosetta Stewart

Her mother was Mary Jane Bulley

Mary Jane's parents were James Beavis Bulley and Janet Steel.

Janet's roots we will get to later in the journey but for several generations at least the Bulley's lived around the village of Cornworthy.

I started with the church ground but was unable to find any 'Bulley' headstones. Given that they were agricultural labourers I guess this is not so surprising.
The graveyard was home to sheep - who said hello and it was funny to see them grazing in between the headstones.




From here we drove through the countryside to Dittisham. I believe James' parents were married in the church at Dittisham so I took a look and was amazed to find it open with no one inside. No sheep in this church yard however.

Drove down to the 'beach' on the River Dart which is popular for boating during the summer months and there is a ferry that goes from here to Dartsham as well.


Took a look at the Abbey ruins on the way back through Cornworthy...

and some sheep posed. It's a beautiful part of the country and you can see why housing prices here are quite high and farmland a premium.

Finished back in Totnes and had a cup of tea in a very old fashioned tea house. Grey's Tea Rooms listening to the owners chat over their lunch.

Day 16 - Death By Mushy Pea

I vow never to eat fish and chips again. I made this promise to myself this morning and opted out of the full English for toast and fruit. It was a good start.

Headed off to the Plymouth Museum and library to see what Naval Records and information they might have and was hoping to track down some more information on some of the ships that left from here. Managed to get upset a group of Chinese ladies who were holding a New Years get together in the china and pottery room. Was underwhelmed with the reference to Australian emigration in the Port displays - almost as pissweak as the stuff on the Mayflower.

Found a couple of good books in the library but nothing totally outstanding.

Afterwards I wandered through town and found myself in a chippie - how I don't know. The lure of fried goodness perhaps weakening my resolve to try and eat a bit more healthily today. As I heaped chip and batter and overcooked fish into my gob I vowed never again... well we'll see.