Peter Paul Marshall

Peter Paul Marshall

Introduction – a Pre-Raphaelite Inferno

In my previous post I mentioned the wonderful names of various Victorians.  Here is another one to conjure with – Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Yes, one of the founders of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood; and, No, he’s not buried in Teignmouth cemetery.  But there is a strong connection.

History is fascinating for its weave of time-lines connecting people, places and things.  Because of that interconnectivity I could have chosen a number of starting points for today’s post but have selected Rossetti, or more specifically one of his drawings – Rupes Topseia.

Rupes Topseia

This was a pen and brown ink caricature, or cartoon, which he is believed to have been produced in July 1869.  I wonder if he borrowed the idea from his namesake’s, Dante Alighieri, famous work Inferno?  The drawing depicts William Morris falling from a precipice into hell being watched from the ruins above by his business partners, including one Peter Paul Marshall, the subject of this blog.

Peter Paul Marshall had an interesting struggle in life – the pragmatism of having to earn a living versus the pull of his soul – his real interest in art.  As we’ll see I believe that he tried to balance the two but was forever treading a tightrope.

There is a good article by Keith E Gibeling in the journal of the William Morris Society, Autumn 1996, – The Forgotten Member of the Morris Firm. The basis for the article is that “we know much about Morris, some about Faulkner but very little about Marshall” in the partnership of Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co.  It explores the question of who this elusive partner in the firm was.

I shall draw on this but I want to go back to original sources where possible, starting with obituaries of the time which suggest that Peter Paul Marshall was more well-known during his lifetime than now.

The Early Years

I will start with the rather terse obituary published in the Western Times of 23 February 1900:

“The death is announced, at Teignmouth, of Mr Peter Paul Marshall, for many years City Engineer at Norwich.  His chief works there were the fine new Foundry Bridge, the Isolation Hospital, and the opening up of the far-famed Mousehold Heath – the glory of Norwich.  He leaves a widow and five sons, one of them, Mr J. Miller Marshall, a well-known local artist.”

It is interesting that the focus is on his engineering rather than his connection with William Morris or his artistic prowess.

The Eastern Evening News of 19 February 1900 starts to tell us a little more about his early life (bracketed information is from other sources):

“The deceased gentleman was born (in 1830) at Edinburgh and educated at the famous High School there.  Having served in articles to the city architect of Edinburgh, he sought to advance his knowledge of engineering by joining Mr. (Thomas) Grainger, a famous C.E. in his day.  In that capacity (as a draughtsman) he made preliminary surveys of various railway lines, and it fell to his lot to draw out all the working and detail drawings for the stations, goods sheds, and engine-houses of the Edinburgh and Northern Railway, including the Edinburgh Central Station.  He went next (in 1847) into the office of Mr. James Newlands, an Edinburgh architect, and when that gentleman became borough surveyor of Liverpool he took Mr. Marshall with him as an assistant.  In the capacity of assistant to the engineer of Liverpool Water Works he drew out all the plans and working drawings for the Park Hill, Everton and High Level Reservoirs, works which he personally superintended and completed. By appointment from the Liverpool Corporation he took up and completed the contract for the Rivington reservoirs and filter beds, the contractor for which had broken down.”

So a picture is emerging of Peter Paul Marshall as a serious engineer but also one who evidently had a keen eye for the detailed drawings required for that profession. In fact it seems that his father was a local artist and you have to wonder whether naming his son ‘Peter Paul’ was sheer coincidence or perhaps reflected an aspiration for him in the field of art. The same Eastern Evening News commented that:

As a young man he studied art industriously at Edinburgh”, and,

“We would not be understood to point to Mr. Marshall as an artist of high and conspicuous powers, but we may fairly say that he possessed abilities which might have developed to remarkable purpose had destiny called him to the pursuit of art rather than of engineering”; and,

“If Mr. Marshall had not been an engineer he would conceivably have made an artist of some eminence”.

This was already evident by the time he reached Liverpool where he apparently exhibited paintings in 1852 and 1854 at the Liverpool Academy.

I wonder if it was at Liverpool that he first felt the real tension between his dual interests of engineering and art.  Certainly, just as we saw in my last post about Admiral Rumbelow Pearse, this could be another example of historic serendipity – Peter Paul Marshall being in the right place at the right time.

Why? It could all be down to one man who was also in Liverpool at that time – John Miller.

Miller was Scottish-born too and also moved to Liverpool but in the early 19th century.  In 1822 he had married Margaret Muirhead, daughter of a Falkirk merchant.  Liverpool’s economy was expanding rapidly and Miller saw the opportunity to make his fortune through trading. With his newly acquired wealth he started collecting art and, by the 1850s, had developed a keen interest in Pre-Raphaelite art which he not only collected himself but also supported and promoted the movement.

Four years ago (2016) there was a major exhibition of Pre-Raphaelite art at the Walker Gallery in Liverpool. As the Guardian reported at the time:

“They were the punk rockers of their day – subversive, rule-breaking, dangerous – and a new exhibition argues that it was Liverpool more than any city outside London that made the pre-Raphaelites into Britain’s first modern art movement …… The central importance of Liverpool to a brotherhood of artists who, in the 19th century, changed the course of British art is set out for the first time at the Walker art gallery …… ‘We are saying that Liverpool was a hugely significant place for the pre-Raphaelites,’ said the curator Christopher Newall. ‘There was a tradition of art collecting that led to great things … but more than that there was a freedom of spirit, an intellectualism, a non-conformism and self-confidence that allowed this style of art to prosper, …… The exhibition argues that Liverpool’s art scene rivalled London’s. When the early pre-Raphaelites were being treated with contempt by the Royal Academy in London, they were welcomed with open arms by the Liverpool Academy keen to exhibit the new and the daring. And when they struggled to sell their paintings, they found rich and willing patrons in Liverpool.”

So, given the lively artistic ambience of Liverpool, it’s hardly surprising that Peter Paul Marshall’s path crossed with that of John Miller.  But this crossing was much deeper – Peter Paul married Miller’s youngest daughter, Augusta (“Gussy”) Buchanan Miller in March 1857, although by this time he was living in Bloomsbury Square, London.

The London Whirl

What brought about Marshall’s move from Liverpool to London is unclear. Later in 1857 he was appointed as surveyor to the Tottenham Board of Health, but had he left his position in Liverpool long before that and come to London jobless?  If so, had he been driven by his artistic desires – perhaps drawn by the attraction of being closer to the centre of the Pre-Raphaelite movement and with the contacts of his father-in-law?  Was engineering then his fall-back and the certainty of a regular salary, especially now that he was married?

With marriage came children and, by the time of the 1861 census, he and Augusta had two sons – William (age 3) and James (age 2).  He was being kept busy professionally – his duties included the maintenance of roads and footpaths, the inspection of dilapidated houses, and the improvement and upkeep of water supply and sewage facilities.  In 1860 he had also joined Tottenham’s 33rd Middlesex Rifle Volunteers which was part of a national response to the possibility of a French invasion.  Wearing his professional hat he was able to supervise the construction of the firing range and various other buildings for the company.  His obvious enthusiasm was marked by a little verse by a Sally Gunn and collected in the article by Keith Gibeling:

I think I never saw. though perhaps I may be partial.
A more milingtary (sic) looking man than our surveyor, Mr. Marshall,
And very martial. likewise, we all thought that he appear’d
With that darling pair of whiskers, and that lovely flowing beard

He was also still pursuing his own artistic interests. Here are a few examples I have found from this period:

Haymaking is a picture of Marshall’s sons William and Johnnie with their mother and the children of the late J H Stewart.  It’s set in the hayfield at the back of their house in Tottenham with Epping Forest in the distance.  It had been exhibited at the Royal Academy.

A Letter from Home. It is thought the sitter was a Governess and the black edges to the letter suggest a death. Marshall painted in the window irises, a symbol of death.

A Letter from Home

A Clerical Life. This was created as a pair of paintings – The Rich Cleric and his Wife ; and The Labourer is Worthy of his Bread.  The original bore a label ‘8 Red Lion Square’ which was the address of William Morris’ workshop between 1861-5.

The Fifeshire Journal of 26 March 1863 commented on one of Marshall’s paintings on display at an exhibition of the Royal Academy:

“On Monday evening the hospitable doors of the Royal Academy of Pictures opened to a numerous but not equally select assemblage of ticket-holders, invited to a conversazione in the galleries of paintings ……. A very striking picture, by Peter Paul Marshall, entitled ‘First Thoughts of the Locomotive’ catches the eye at the first visit.  It represents the great engineer modelling an engine in clay by the light of the boiler fire, which throws a lurid glare, half natural, half fantastic, over him – his wife by his side, and his favourite rabbits at his feet. The proud, solicitous look of his wife, as she watches his work with interest, is most happily expressed, as is his own thoughtful, reflecting face; and a plate and sandwich on the ground beside him are done with pre-Raphaelite accuracy.”

I wonder if this is a refrain back to his civil engineering days in Liverpool.

At the same time that all of this was going on it seems that Marshall was also busy in the social whirl that was the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood (“PRB”).  This is reflected by a few snippets from the Wife of Rossetti, Her Life and Death by Violet Sutton. The first of these shows the breadth of society caught up in this whirl of social events at the home of Dante Gabriel Rossetti:

“For they were entertaining tremendously.  Invitations, lively and informal, ran, ‘Come, we have hung up our Japanese brooms, etc.’ Contesses rolled in their carriages to Blackfriars to see the Pre-Raphaelites in their habitat – the Ladies Waterford, and Trevelyan, and Bath, all eager to break new ground and meet the exponents of the cult they admired and whose pictures they bought.  A good sprinkling of Philistines like Hardman and Anderson Rose; journalists like Hepworth Dixon and Joseph Knight; among authors, Westland Marston and his daughters. Patmore and a wife, Meredith with his handsome head, Edward Lear, round and funny; Martineau, Halliday, chattering Tebbs and Mrs. Tebbs who was their dead friend Seddon’s beautiful sister.  There would be Sandys, Mark Anthony and his daughters; Peter Paul Marshall and his wife Gussy, the daughter of jolly old John Miller of Liverpool, the picture buyer; ‘Val’ with a head like a broom and the heart of a —— (vide Rossetti’s limerick), and Inchbold, a dangerous guest because he always wanted a bed and never went away; Hungerford Pollen, Munro, Hughes and Faulkner and a couple of Christina’s admirers, Cayley and John Brett (‘No thank you, John’).  There would be Morris and his wife, of course, and the Joneses.  Not Stephens; not asked, he had just married Mrs. Charles and had said Lizzy was ‘freckled’.  Holman Hunt was away.  Excepting Georgy there were not many of Lizzy’s particular friends.  Emma Brown was at the sea and Bessie Parkes and Barbara Bodichon were abroad.  But Mary Howitt brought her shy husband, Alaric ‘Attila’ Watts, and sat with him in a corner taking notes for her diary that would have rejoiced a daily paper of to-day.” (p. 272)

Then there were smaller gatherings:

“In the evenings ‘Poll’ Marshall, accompanied by his Gussy, would sing ‘Clerk Saunders’ to please Mrs Rossetti and ‘Busk ye, busk ye my Bonnie Bride’ for Mrs. Ned, and she would sing in her high wild voice ‘La Fille du Roi’ out of ‘Echos du Temps Passee’, to please Ned and Top.  The world had grown older.  Gabriel was thirty-three.”  (p 283)

And other things they did together:

“Gabriel had to go without her to the christening of little Jane Alice Morris in the last days of January.  He went down with some of the fellows, Marshall, Brown and Swinburne, who was just back from the continent and had not yet called on Lizzy.  Janey was going to put them all up somehow, in the fearless old Pre-Raphaelite fashion.  The Joneses were already there – Georgy to help the delicate Janey in preparing for such a large party.  It was given to show the new house and the new baby to as many of the old PRB as could be got together and to the members of the new firm which had been constituted, as it were, on its ashes, to fight Mr. Perkins’ aniline dyes and nurse the silk trade, nearly killed by Cobden’s Bill of three years ago, since when no lady’s gown had been able to ‘stand alone. Premises had been acquired in Queen’s Square.

Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co

So we have now reached another significant point in Peter Paul Marshall’s life.  He was still working full time as the surveyor in Tottenham but had now committed to business with William Morris.  As Violet Sutton noted:

The firm, founded in 1860, consisted actually, like the P.R.B., of seven – Rossetti, Morris, Brown, Jones, Faulkner, Philip Webb and Peter Paul Marshall.  Faulkner wrote to William concerning the first and only prospectus issued of Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co., 8 Red Lion Square, Holborn.  Fine Art Workmen in painting, carving, Furniture and the Metals.  ‘A very desirable thing,’ Scotus says, who had not been asked to be a member – and he did so like his fingers in every pie – ‘a very desirable thing, Fine Art Workmen! But isn’t the list of partner a tremendous lark!’”

William Morris’s life and works are well documented and exemplified through the William Morris Society, the William Morris Gallery, organisations such as the National Trust and the Victoria and Albert Museum, and numerous biographical works.  So there’s little to be gained by repeating that here.  Rather I want to focus on Peter Paul Marshall’s role in this enterprise.

According to William Michael Rossetti it was Peter Paul Marshall who came up with the idea for the Firm originally which could explain why his name appeared in the title to the business even though he was not as active as an artistic contributor. In the early years I imagine there would have been a burgeoning of energy and enthusiasm as the business got off the ground and Marshall certainly contributed artwork during this period which survives today.

One of the product lines of the Firm was stained glass which, judging by the number of installations, was potentially a fairly lucrative market and, of course, would have given the Firm some visibility. The Firm won a medal for their stained glass work in the International Exhibition of 1862 and, as Aymer Vallance comments in his 1897 work William Morris, His Art, Writings and Public Life:

“Ext No. 6734: Stained glass windows.  The report of the juries and list of awards witnesses that a medal (United Kingdom) was bestowed on the firm for their work ….. the award was given for artistic qualities of colour and design ….. At least one expert, Mr Clayton … pronounced the work of Messrs. Morris and Co. to be the finest of its kind in the Exhibition.  Before the close of the Exhibition orders were received through Mr. Bodley, then a generous friend and supporter of the firm, for glass for St. Michael’s, Brighton.”

St. Michael’s marked its 150th anniversary in 2012 with a project for the renovation of its Great West Window – “one of the finest achievements of Pre-Raphaelite glass making, and one of the most important stained glass windows of the 19th Century.” One of the designs, St Michael and the Dragon, is attributed to Peter Paul Marshall.

Other examples of stained glass design contributed by Peter Paul Marshall include:

The “Military Window” at St Martin’s Church, Scarborough.  According to the church “it is one of the earliest windows produced by Morris and Company, and was installed in 1862 in memory of a Major Monnins who died in 1860. The windows by Marshall are two of the few he executed for The Firm.”  The two panels attributed to Marshal are Joshua and St. Michael the Archangel.

East Window of Bradford Parish Church, 1863.  As the Bradford Historical and Antiquarian Society explains: “The theme of the window might be described as ‘Witnesses to Christ’ ….. The venerable figure of the patron saint, Peter, designed by Peter Paul Marshall, occupies the lower part of the central panel. His green cloak discloses a white robe, and from a golden chain round his neck hang two not very traditional keys and a bible.”  

Photo by Michelle Heseltine,

In the next few years the Firm blossomed.  As the Manchester Courier and Lancashire General Advertiser of 27 October 1897 commented on Vallance’s book:

“The history of this firm makes the most interesting chapter in the work, and becomes an astonishing record of the genius and miraculous powers of work of the dominant partner.”

However, it is also clear that all was not well with the running of the business ….. which brings us full circle to where we started this story with Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s cartoon Rupes Topseia.

Rupes Topseia

As I said earlier, the cartoon depicted William Morris falling into hell from a precipice whilst being watched by his business partners.  There has been much debate about the meaning of the cartoon, published as it was in 1869, but it clearly foresaw the demise of the Firm Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co.

The front-runner theory is that the cartoon refers to Warrington Taylor’s criticism of Morris’s extravagance and incompetent management which could soon throw the Firm into bankruptcy (Warrington Taylor was the business manager of the company from 1865 until his death in 1870). Whatever the interpretation, Marshall’s future was now set to change though it was another five years before the separation from Morris as the London Gazette of 6 April 1875 reported:

“Notice is hereby given that the Partnership heretofore subsisting between us the undersigned, Ford Madox Brown, Charles Joseph Faulkner, Edward Burne Jones, Peter Paul Marshall, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Philip Webb, and William Morris, trading as Morris, Marshall, Faulkner, and CO., and Morris and Co., as Fine Art Workmen in painting, carving, Stained Glass, Furniture, and the Metals, at No. 26, Queens-square, Bloomsbury, in the county of Middlesex, has been dissolved by mutual consent; and that the said business will henceforth be carried on solely by the said William Morris, to whom all debts due to the late firm are to be paid and by whom all claims against the said late firm will be discharged – Dated this 31st day of March, 1875.”

Marshall received £1000 for his share of the partnership – equivalent to about £116,000 today.  He would need this.

Goodbye to London and All That.

By this time he had six children to support – William Miller, James Miller, Lancelot Paul, Pauline, Patrick Hugh and Geoffrey; and two years earlier he had resigned from his surveyor’s post in Tottenham following a serious outbreak of typhoid there.

According to Gibeling he was more or less unfairly forced out of his post:

“The loss of his job at Tottenham, it must be kept in mind, was due more to village politics than it was to any lack of ability. In fact, Marshall’s later years at Tottenham actually saw him in the vanguard of sewage treatment. He encouraged experiments in sewage treatment techniques by allowing other engineers and scientists to perform tests at the Tottenham sewage works. Marshal! was an engineer in the golden age of engineers, a man who pitted himself against the insidious problems that had plagued and frustrated city-dwellers for centuries. Men like Marshall were the heroes of what Asa Briggs has termed the ‘Age of Improvement’”.

Whatever the reasons behind his resignation this must have been a devastating period in his life as his secured income came to an end and his aspirations in the art world were suddenly curtailed.  I wonder how he felt about this double loss.

It appears that it was four years before he was able to secure another position.  He applied immediately in 1873 for the position of Borough Surveyor and Engineer for Leeds but was unsuccessful.  He was eventually appointed In 1877 as City Engineer and Road Surveyor for Norwich and finally left London life and his Pre-Raphaelite aspirations behind.  Whether he maintained connections with the group is uncertain but for the next 16 years until his retirement in 1893 he applied himself with his customary professionalism to a range of engineering tasks in Norwich.  His obituary notes:

“Amongst the principal works associated with his tenure of office may be mentioned the new Foundry Bridge, the Isolation Hospital, and the initiation of the new sewerage scheme.  It was he also who laid out Mousehold Heath.  In connection with the paving scheme he introduced the system of paving on sand, which has since been widely adopted in other places and by other engineers.”

Foundry Bridge Norwich 2018, Photo: Charles Watson

He did continue his art as well and the obituary continues:

“.…. in his time exhibited at the Royal Academy and the British Institution, as well as in the humbler galleries of the Norwich Art Circle.  In water-colour he was very successful, and many of his sketches are treasured in local salons in company with those by his artist son, Mr J Miller Marshall.”


Interestingly his son may have surpassed him in artistic ability.  When Peter Paul Marshall retired he and his remaining family moved down to Teignmouth and the Norfolk News of 10 March 1894 commented:

“No less an authority on art matters than Mr. William Morris says, ‘The duty of the art missionary should be to induce the public to use its eyes, and to learn to appreciate the beautiful in nature.’….. Local art cannot but be the poorer by the removal from amongst us of Mr. J. Miller Marshall, and at art gatherings his clever and genial father will also be greatly missed.  Mr. P. P. Marshall – though not so well known in his art capacity as his son – was a splendid draughtsman, and a great favourite with the members of the art circle.  This was especially the case with the ladies; more than one of whom I have heard speak of him as ‘dear man’”.

The move to Teignmouth also prompted both Marshalls, father and son, to part company with most of their artwork.  As the Norwich Mercury of 6 December 1893 reported:

“EXHIBITION AT THE ART CIRCLE ROOMS, NORWICH.  During the last few days the opportunity has been afforded the public of inspecting a somewhat large collection of local paintings, the work of two artists in the city, whose names will be familiar to very many, Mr. P. P. Marshall and Mr. J. Miller Marshall.  The former, perhaps, is better known to the citizens as their late City Engineer, and it will, doubtless, come as a surprise to them to know that the gentleman in question is, in his particular line, an artist with abilities of a very high order.  His son, Mr. J. Miller Marshall, has long been a great favourite at the local exhibitions, and, as with his father, so his success has not been confined to local displays, contributions of his having at various times found places on the walls of the Royal Academy. These two artists are shortly leaving Norwich for the south of England, and hence the disposal of the contents of their studios.  By permission of the Norwich Art Circle, the display is made in their three rooms in Queen Street, a private view being given on Saturday, followed by free admission to the general public till tomorrow (Wednesday).  More than 150 works of the two artists are catalogued, and of these a very large number – the majority indeed – are by Mr. P. P. Marshall.  Many of his contributions – more especially those of his younger painting days – show a freshness and vigour of style which, with the developing influence of after years, might have brought out work of a very high order indeed.  Almost the first thought in the visitors , when making the tour of the exhibition, must have been that here, in these early efforts was the promise of a great artist; but to engineering Mr. Marshall’s energies were given, and art, although it did not altogether lose its devotee, was the poorer for the loss of work which would undoubtedly have brought with it distinction.  His best efforts are seen in portraiture.  Some of the more striking of Mr. Miller Marshall’s works depict well-known Broad scenery, but though these will perhaps attract a large share of public attention, he has also a deal of other noteworthy work – quaint bits of architecture in and around the city and county. The exhibition, on the whole, is very well worth a visit by any one at all interested in the work of our local artists.

Art remained an interest for Peter Paul Marshall during his time in Teignmouth and it appears he might still have done commissions.  The Eastern Evening News of 19 February 1900 mentions:

“As showing that Mr Marshall’s artistic tendencies remained with him in his years of retirement, it may be mentioned that since he went to live at Teignmouth he designed a window for a church at Havre, the erection of it being carried out by an Exeter firm.”

Peter Paul Marshall died on 16 February 1900.  He had apparently been in good health upto five months earlier but then, as the Norwich Mercury of 21 February 1900 reported:

“.…. a malady affecting one of his legs began to show itself. But for his age amputation would have been resorted to. He sank gradually under the progress of the disease, and death overtook him on Friday evening”

He left a wife and five sons but also, as we have seen, a legacy in both the engineering and art worlds.  I wonder if he was content with that legacy though.  Unlike his pre-Raphaelite contemporaries he had not come from a wealthy background.  Maybe if he had, he would have had the opportunity to pursue his undoubted artistic talents and be seen today on the same footing as Morris and Rossetti.  We shall never know.

He is buried in a simple grave, plot U58, not so easy to reach now, lying as it does beneath a large weeping lime.  The gravestone is weathered and virtually illegible.  It originally carried, as an epitaph, the refrain from an early nineteenth century Scottish poem and ballad by Lady Carolina Nairne:

The day is aye fair
In the land o’ the leal.

And that’s Peter Paul Marshall. For a few loose ends to the story see the section after the references.

Sources and References

Extracts from contemporary newspapers are referenced directly in the text. Other sources, with hyperlinks as appropriate, are as follows.  For further information and queries which have turned up during this research check out the “Loose Ends” section after these references.

GENERAL for genealogy

British Newspaper Archives for all snippets from contemporary newspapers

Wikipedia for general background information


Arts & Crafts Living:  – a short biography

The Art of William Morris, Aymer Vallance, 1897, George Bell & Son

Friends of St Michaels Church, Brighton: – 150th Anniversary and Windows 

Friends of St Martin’s Church, Scarborough: – Windows 

Victoria & Albert Museum: – Image of St Michael and the Dragon

Bradford Historical Society: – Bradford Cathedral windows  

Bradford Cathedral:  – Lady Chapel windows

BRANCH: Britain, Representation, and Nineteenth-Century History – comments on Morris:  

Arcadia auctions:  – source of various Marshall paintings

William Morris: Design and Enterprise in Victorian Britain, Charles Harvey, Jon Press, 1991

The Wife of Rossetti, Her Life and Death. Violet Hunt. Dutton & Co, New York, 1932

The Rossetti Archive:  – Rupes Topseia

Pre-Raphaelites: Beauty and Rebellion.  Christopher Newall, Ann Bukantas.  Oxford University Press. 2016

National Portrait Gallery: – Rupes Topseia

William Morris Society:  – various references

Arts Docbox – William Morris, an Annotated Bibliography:  

Victorian Poetry, Vol. 37, No. 3 (Fall, 1999), pp. 353-429 (77 pages), Published by: West Virginia University Press

Liverpool Museums:  – comments on John Miller etc

Rampant Scotland – Selection of Scottish Poetry (Land of the leal)  

Peter Paul Marshall: The Forgotten Member of the Morris Firm, Keith E. Gibeling, 1996

Michelle Heseltine – photo of St Peter Window, Bradford Cathedral

Peter Paul Marshall – Loose Ends


Peter Paul Marshall was survived by his wife and five sons.  Augusta may have died in 1915 in Williton, Somerset and their daughter, Pauline, may have died in 1899 and have been buried in the West of London and Westminster Cemetery, Old Brompton.  The sons had followed a variety of careers, though all with links to their father’s past.  According to the obituary in the Norwich Mercury, these were:

  • Mr W J Marshall, a marine engineer in the service of the Chilean government
  • Mr J Millar Marshall, an artist well known in Norfolk
  • Mr L P Marshall, one of the staff in the office of the City Engineer in Norwich
  • Mr P H Marshall, a member of the firm MacVicar, Marshall & Co, shipping agents of Liverpool
  • Mr G Marshall, a mining engineer, who returned to this country from Johannesburg on the outbreak of the war

Of these, James Millar Marshall had picked up the artistic baton as we have seen.  There is an excellent article by Ross Bowden describing his travels around Australia in 1892/93 – “James Miller Marshall: a Norwich School painter in late 19th-century Australia”.  

He was depicted in 1938 as the artist ‘Bradley Mudgett’ in Norman Lindsay’s book Age of Consent.  Norman writes that the artist’s appearance made such an impression on him that he used him as the model, visually speaking, for the artist–hero, Bradley Mudgett.  When that book was filmed in 1969, the English actors James Mason played the artist and Helen Mirren the love interest.

James Miller Marshall in Australia (as Bradley Mudgett)

There are a number of mentions of James in the local Devon press since he was an active participant in the art scene here.  Here’s one from the Express & Echo of 12 September 1899:

“ ART EXHIBITION AT ELAND’S GALLERY:  J Millar Marshall is represented by some attractive pictures from the neighbourhood of Teignmouth the best of which (109) is ‘A View of Teignmouth from the Old Quay’”

And here is an example of one of his works – a Harbour Scene – which looks rather Turner-esque.

A Harbour Scene, James Miller Marshall

Finally ….. Some Poetry

Limerick, Dante Gabriel Rossetti

For those interested in “Val” …..

There is a big artist named Val,
The roughs’ and the prize-fighters’ pal:
The mind of a groom
And the head of a broom
Were Nature’s endowments to Val.

Land o’ the Leal, Lady Carolina Nairne

I’m wearin’ awa’, John
Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John,
I’m wearin’ awa’
To the land o’ the leal.
There ‘s nae sorrow there, John,
There ‘s neither cauld nor care, John,
The day is aye fair
In the land o’ the leal.

Rear-Admiral William Alfred Rombulow Pearse

Rear-Admiral William Alfred Rombulow Pearse


Is it a pre-requisite of admirals of the 18th and 19th centuries to have grandiose names?  Probably not, but one of the first graves we researched was that of Rear-Admiral Thomas Abel Brimage Spratt – a name to conjure with.  A Royal Naval Mediterranean explorer, he could be called the “Indiana Jones” of his time!

Rear Admiral William Alfred Rombulow Pearse may not have been as renowned as Spratt but he is up there in the name competition stakes.  And he was in the right place at the right time for his name to go down in history.

Grave of Rear Admiral William Alfred Rombulow Pearse and his wife Blanche Eleanor

Little is known of his family and childhood years and public records seem confused.  The 1881 census shows him as having been born in 1821 in Bungay, Suffolk, whilst the 1871 census shows his place of birth as Hilsea, Hampshire. His date of birth shown on his grave is 6th June 1818 whilst the 1881 census gives it as 1821.  His marriage record gives his father as Thomas Henry Richard Rombulow which provides a first mystery – where did he acquire his surname of Pearse?  (More of this in the separate “Loose Ends” section after the main blog.)

Family Life

Following his “childhood years” his life seems to have two distinct phases, divided by one notable event – his marriage on 19 October 1865 to Blanche Eleanor Cookesley.  This event was described in the 28 October edition of John Bull:

“The marriage between Capt. W. A. Rombulow Pearse, R.N., and Blanche Eleanor, eldest surviving daughter of the Rev. H. P. Cookesley, Priest Vicar of Wimborne, was celebrated on Thursday in last week, in the Minster Church, which was densely thronged by parishioners and neighbours, anxious to show respect to one who has endeared herself to all who knew her by her sweetness and amiability of disposition.  The bride entered the western door, leaning on her father’s arm, accompanied by the following bridesmaids: Miss A Cookesley, sister to the bride, Miss Pearse, Miss Cookesley, Miss Bellman, Miss G. Bellman, Miss J. Smith, Miss H. Fletcher.  The bride was attired in a white corded silk dress, a Limerick lace veil, with wreath of orange blossoms and myrtle, and a bouquet of choicest flowers in her hand.  The bridesmaids wore white grenadine dresses trimmed with blue, with veils and wreaths of blue convolvulus. In the unavoidable absence of Capt. O’Reilly, R.N., the office of ‘best man’ was filled by Capt. Cookesley, 22nd Regt., brother of the bride. The service, commencing with a bridal hymn, was solemnised by the Rev. W. G. Cookesley, Incumbent of St. Peter’s, Hammersmith, uncle of the bride, assisted by the Rev. Reginald Smith, M.A., Rector of Stafford.  After the ceremony a large company assembled at the residence of the bride’s father, where a sumptuous dejeuner was served in a tent upon the lawn.  At four p.m. the happy couple left en route to Scotland, where they intend to spend the honeymoon.”

By the time of his marriage he was 44 years old and most of his significant naval experience was behind him.  In fact he was placed on the retired list seven years later and it would seem that his priority obviously shifted after his marriage to Blanche, who was 21 at the time, to family life.  Between 1865 and 1886, when he was 65 and five years off his death, they appear to have had a dozen children, not all surviving. They also moved around the country, living firstly in Little Parndon, Essex, then Great Berkhamsted, Herts, and finally at some point in the late 1880s ending up in Teignmouth.

Why Teignmouth?  There is no evidence of local family connections so the likelihood is that they were following the custom of many military and naval officers in retiring here.  They lived in a splendid mansion, Highcliffe, in a local 1850s development that was known at the time as Cross Park. This is at the corner of New Road and Dawlish Road and enjoyed superb views across the sea and coast.  References suggest that Cross Park was a focal point as well for sea captains who may simply have been looking for temporary accommodation.

Highcliffe today. Admiral Rombulow Pearse’s home, part of the 1850s Cross Park development

More of his family later as well but I want to focus now on his naval career which is where the historical significance lies. Fortunately, where public records seem a little confused, naval records are somewhat more organised.

Naval Career

His military record can be found in the National Archives – two pages that summarise his life at sea.  (As an aside, the second page of the military record gives his date of birth as 6 July 1819. I wonder if he or his parents had to lie about his age to be accepted into the navy, so it appeared that he was thirteen years old rather than eleven.  Also note that his name is spelt ‘Rumbulow’ rather than ‘Rombulow’).

The first page reveals an interesting fact – that his naval career started when he may have been only 11 as “Vol 1 cl” on HMS Rhadamanthus, a 5-gun paddle-steam sloop which saw no action but achieved distinction by being the first British warship to cross the Atlantic assisted by steam in 1833.  I wonder what sort of impression that would have made on the young Rombulow-Pearse?  Would he have recognised the significance of the deployment of this new technology?

Model of the Rhadamanthus at Royal Maritime Museum, Gr

Within two years he was a midshipman on board HMS Meteor, a 296 ton wooden auxiliary vessel, paddle driven, carrying only two guns and commanded by Lieutenant Commander John Duffill.  By 1839 he had passed his examinations and was now serving as Lieutenant on board the HMS Modeste.  This signalled the start of his fully-fledged naval career which, as can be seen from the second page of his military record continued in a range of commands through to his retirement in 1872.

The official military record is interesting but it doesn’t paint a picture of the man.  So to add a little flesh to his story let’s start with his obituary. Here is what the Illustrated London News of 23rd August 1890 had to say:

“He was wounded at the attack on Canton while serving as mate in the Modeste; was present at the capture of the Amoy and Shanghai in 1841; and was senior Lieutenant of the Ajax during the Baltic Expedition.  He attained the rank of Lieutenant in 1838, Commander in 1855, Captain in 1862 and was placed on the retired list in 1872, becoming Rear-Admiral in 1878, and Vice-Admiral in 1884.”

A Naval Biographical Dictionary authored by William Richard O’Byrne in 1849 expands on some of these exploits:

“William Alfred Rumbulow Pearse passed his examination 2 May, 1839; and was afterwards, until paid off at the commencement of 1843, employed as Mate and Acting-Lieutenant in the Modeste 18, Capts. Harry Eyres and Rundle Surges Watson. In the former capacity he assisted, during the war in China, in boarding, 27 Feb. 1841, the ship Cambridge, bearing the Chinese Admiral’s flag, at the enemy’s position below Whampoa Reach, where he also landed and contributed to the destruction, in the whole, of 98 guns. On 13 of the following month he served in the boats at the capture of several rafts and of the last fort protecting the approaches to Canton; and on 18 he was similarly employed at the capture of the city itself. During the series of operations against it we find him commanding the Modeste’s cutter, under the present Sir Edw. Belcher, in an affair up a creek on the western side, where 28 vessels were destroyed. In a day or two afterwards he had the misfortune to be wounded. In Aug. and Oct. he co-operated in the reduction of Amoy and Chinghae. As Acting-Lieutenant, Mr. Pearse, on 10 March, 1842, succeeded with two boats in towing four fire-rafts clear of the shipping off Ningpo. On 15 and 16 of the same month he was employed on shore under Capt. Thos. Bourchier in an attack on the enemy’s camp at Tsekee.”

Late into his retirement an interesting snippet appeared in the Herts Advertiser (13 October 1888), when the then Admiral Pearse was living in Great Berkhamsted:

“MECHANICS INSTITUTE.  On Monday the winter session was inaugurated by a conversazione in the Town Hall.  The ball had been transformed, under the direction of Mr R H Bookey, the hon. Sec., into an interesting museum, adorned by flowers and plants kindly supplied by Messrs. Lane, of the Nurseries, Mr. Cooper and Mr. Mawley, and flags and trophies were suspended round the room, some of them lent by Admiral Pearse, having been taken away from Malay pirates and at the siege of Canton …..”

So the shaping of his image is around his contribution to naval actions.  Of more historical interest though is the four years he spent from 1857 to 1861 commanding HMS Alert.

Sir George Henry Richards, by Stephen Pearce

This is where his historical significance emerges through the convergence of his time-line with that of another character (another future admiral) in the story.  This was Admiral Sir George Henry Richards who, having served in South America, the Falkland Islands, New Zealand, Australia and in the First Opium War in China, was promoted to captain in 1854. There was then a significant five year period from 1857 to 1862 when he was in command of the two survey ships, HMS Plumper and HMS Hecate, acting as hydrographer of the coast of British Columbia.

But we need to back up a bit to recap briefly on the history and role of the Royal Navy as it developed through to this time.

By the mid eighteenth century Britain was expanding its Empire in all directions and needed to raise finance for this expansion.  To do this it made use of the Navigation Acts, originally intended to promote the development of English shipping but which had subsequently been adapted as a form of trade protectionism leading to control of the price of goods.

Effectively this became a form of taxation which was one of the driving forces behind the American Revolution.  The rest is history, as they say, and on the 3rd of September 1783 Great Britain and the United States signed the Treaty of Paris making peace between the two nations, and formally marking the end of the American War of Independence.  This overthrow of British rule firmly established the United States as the first republic in modern history extending over a large territory.

Ironically the new United States then developed its own pretensions to empire as, over the next hundred years, it bought, fought and annexed its way west and south across the North American continent.  Ultimately its eyes were set maybe on the annexation of Canada.  This expansion was framed within a governing philosophy known as “Manifest Destiny”..

Meanwhile Britain continued its own colonial expansion, in competition with other European nations – Spain, France, Holland.  To do this required control of the seas – hence the increasing importance of the role of the Royal Navy.  This wasn’t solely a military force though.  To function effectively the fleets needed knowledge of the areas that they were exploring and patrolling.  This prompted specific expeditions for hydrography and cartography – charting the waters and coastlines across the world.

We have seen this already in the story of Rear-Admiral Thomas Abel Brimage Spratt who spent 30 years doing such mapping in the Mediterranean.  There were similar activities along the coasts of the Americas, which brings us back to Admiral Sir George Henry Richards who was doing exactly that and to Rombulow-Pearse who played a different role.

So, Rombulow-Pearse took command of the newly commissioned HMS Alert in 1857, a 17-gun wooden screw sloop of the Cruizer class.

HMS Alert in the Arctic

Her engines gave 383 horsepower and she was also rigged with a barque-rig sail plan.  He was based on the Pacific Station at Esquimalt on the southern tip of Vancouver Island and had one role – the policing of the Canadian coastline and the protection of its borders from the United States. This was critical because British Columbia was the only access for Canada to the Pacific coastline.  The Alert had been specifically designed for this type of policing work although later it was refitted for Arctic expeditionary work.

George Henry Richards was also sent to provide a British military presence on Vancouver Island and arrived at Esquimalt in November 1857. However, that was secondary to his principal role of assisting the Anglo-American boundary commission in determining the location of the international boundary with America.  This involved detailed surveying of the waters between Vancouver Island and the American mainland, a task he swiftly completed by June 1958 though to no immediate avail – the deadlock in boundary negotiations wasn’t broken until 1871-72.

In the mean time Captain Richards continued his survey work of the British Columbia coast and, as part of this, he designated dozens of names for sites along this stretch of coast. For example, Alert Bay is named after Rombulow-Pearse’s ship; but, more importantly, he also named an island at the north entrance to Johnstone Strait as “Pearse Island”.  On the north side of the island is a two kilometre wide channel of water named the “Pearse Canal” by Captain Daniel Pender in some later survey work in 1868.

So William Alfred Rombulow-Pearse was immortalised by having an island and a channel named after him.  In itself that would be worthy historical recognition but there was more to follow.

Signing of Alaska Treaty of Cessation 1867

The area to the north of British Columbia, the north-western tip of the continent, actually belonged to Russia and its boundaries had been established by the Anglo-Russian Treaty of 1825.  In 1867 the United States purchased this territory (now known as Alaska) from Russia for a mere $7.2 million. In the hindsight of political history this was probably America’s greatest strategic acquisition and Russia’s greatest strategic loss.

Unfortunately the 1825 Anglo-Russian Treaty had been ambiguous about the territorial boundaries, these not being defined on maps of the period. America’s policy of “Manifest Destiny” was now squeezing Canada from both the south and the north, with Britain having to resolve the boundary issues on both fronts.  This was of strategic importance because British Columbia was Canada’s only access to the Pacific coast. The resolution of the boundary dispute took almost another 40 years before being finalised by the Hay-Herbert Treaty of 24th January 1903 (otherwise known as the Alaska Boundary Settlement).

By this time Vice-Admiral William Alfred Rombulow Pearse was long dead but his name lived on, set in the stone of that Hay-Herbert Treaty.  Why? Because the southern sea border dividing Alaska from British Columbia/Canada was the eponymous Pearse Canal.

Admiral W A Rombulow Pearse died on 12th August 1890 and was followed only seven years later on 8 January 1897 by the death of his wife, Blanche Eleanor Rombulow Pearse.  They are both buried in a surprisingly simple and modest plot (S110) which is easily accessible and easy to find. The leaded lettering on the grave is still in good condition but is barely legible because of the lichen growth and stone discolouration.

Sources and References

Extracts from contemporary newspapers are referenced directly in the text.  Other sources, with hyperlinks as appropriate, are as follows.  For further information and queries which have turned up during this research check out the “Loose Ends” section after these references.

GENERAL for genealogy

British Newspaper Archives for all snippets from contemporary newspapers

Wikipedia for general background information


BC Geographical Names – website

A Naval Biographical Dictionary, William R O’Byrne Esq, 1849

The Mid-Victorian Royal Navy – website

Royal Maritime Museum, Greenwich – collections website

Open Library Internet Archive – website

Crosspark – website

Oxford Dictionary of National Biography – website

Dictionary of Canadian Biography – website

Internet Archive – website

Dreadnought Project – website

Records by Admiral of the Fleet Lord Fisher, Hodder and Stoughton, 1919

The National Archives – website

Admiral William Alfred Rombulow Pearse – Loose Ends


I have been unable so far to find a birth registration.  There are three references to his date of birth; his gravestone carries the date 6th June 1818; his naval record shows it as 6 July 1819 and the 1881 census gives simply 1821.

However, I have found a reference to a baptism record for William Alfred Rumbelow dated 25 December 1817 at St John, Portsea, Hampshire.  The caveat is that the parents are shown as Father: John or Thomas Rumbelow and Mother: Sarah or Margaret.

There are two references to his place of birth: the 1881 census gives Bungay, Suffolk; the 1871 census gives Hilsea, Hampshire.  Given his entry into the Royal Navy the latter may be more likely.


It is unclear whether his surname is Pearse, which is how he is referred to in his military records, or “Rombulow-Pearse” which is how he is referred to in his obituary; how his wife Blanche refers to herself in the 1891 census; and how his children seem to be frequently referred to. The “Rombulow” component of the name also seems to have various spellings in references I have seen – Rombulow, Rumbulow and Rumbelow. My feeling is that “Pearse” is indeed probably his surname but, if that is the case, how did he acquire it?


The same question may have occurred to his own family who obviously made attempts to trace his ancestry.  First, though, some relevant information:

  1. His marriage certification gives his father as a “Gentleman”, Thomas Henry Richard Rombulow.
  2. It appears that a Thomas Rumbelow married a Margaret Oxenham on 28 May 1810 at Alverstoke, Hampshire (see Pallot’s Marriage Index)

  3. Thomas Rumbelow died 17 February 1825 at Portsea, Hampshire age 32, birth year 1793).  Geographically this fits with a birthplace of “Hilsea” for our admiral.
  4. shows that they had four children – Margaret Amelia (born 27/7/13), Thomas Henry (born 10/7/1811 baptised 1 Aug 1811), Emily Jane (baptised 3/8/19), Margaret Elizabeth (baptised 18 Jan 1824)
  5. However, the baptism reference above suggests there could have been a fifth child William Alfred Rumbelow (baptised 25 December 1817)
  6. This still doesn’t resolve the “Pearse” surname.  So here comes some speculation:
    1. There is a record on the England, Select Marriages, 1538-1973 of a Margaret Rumbelow marrying a Thomas Pearse in Kent on 17 August 1825.
    2. The Exeter and Plymouth gazette of 9 May 1829 reported in its Deaths column:
      On Monday the 4th of May inst., at Gosport, after a severe and protracted illness of several years, Lieut. Thomas Pearse R.N., eldest son of Rear Admiral Thomas Pearse, of Bradninch in this County.”
    3. The 1851 Census shows a Margaret Pearse residing as a visitor at 10 Albion St, Paddington.  She is described as a naval officer widow, born in Barnstaple and her age is given as 56 (if correct that would have made her about 15 when she married Thomas Rumbelow).
    4. The 1861 census shows a Margaret Pearse as a widow, aged 67, head of household, born in Shirwell (near Barnstaple) Devon. She is described as a “government assisted fund-holder (??)” – a little difficult to read from the census record but I suppose this could imply being in receipt of a navy pension.  With her is a daughter, Margaret Rombulow aged 27, and a grand-daughter, Alice Knock aged 6.  The strong indications are that this is the same Margaret Pearse.
    5. The National Archives also have a reference to “Entry papers for service as an Excise man”, dated 1864, for William Alfred Rombulow Knock
  7. So there appears to be a possible plausible chain to confirm that the surname “Pearse” came from his mother’s second marriage.

There are two examples of the family researching their ancestry.  Both are enquiries in the Devon and Cornwall Notes and Queries,” a Quarterly Journal devoted to the LOCAL HISTORY BIOGRAPHY and ANTIQUITIES of the Counties of Devon and Cornwall edited by JOHN S AMERY E WINDEATT HUGH R WATKIN and R PEARSE CHOPE”

Note 189, Vol X1, From January 1920 to October 1921:

“ROMBULOW OR RUMBELOW FAMILY – (1) The arms of the Rombulow family are the same in design as those of Bamfylde, viz:- On a bend gules three mullets pierced of the field.  What connection is there between the two families?
(2) Whom did the following members of the family marry?
Rev. John Rumnilowe 1560-1600 (?)
Rev. John Rumbilowe 1596-1636.  Rector of Bigbury
Rev. Nathaniel Rumbulowe 1635-1671.  Vicar of Quethiock
Mr John Rumbilow of Ottery St Mary 1625- ?
Rev. John Rumbilowe 1668-1729. Rector of Portlemouth.
Mr. John Rumbelloe, born about 1700, father of Mary Rumbelloe, who married John Vivian of Comprigney in Kenwyn, Cornwall.

Any information regarding Thomas Rombulow of Bishop’s Tawton, who died 1776, and of his descendants will oblige.

A. B. Rombulow-Pearse
Major 6th Gurkha Rifles”

Note 235 from Volume XII, from January 1922 to October 1923:

“Oxenham Family. – Is there a pedigree of the Oxenham family in existence? Can anyone tell me the connexion with it of Abraham Oxenham of Barnstaple, who married Anne May, about the end of the 18th century.  I believe he had four daughters, who married:

Julia Oxenham = John Dyer, Paymaster R.N.
Amelia Oxenham = Lieut. Waghorn R.N., who discovered the overland route to India.
Margaret Oxenham = Thomas Henry Richard Rombulow, of Plymouth.
Maria Oxenham = Dr. Mountjoy


Aubrey Bewicke Rombulow Pearse was the youngest son (born 1882) and served as Major in the Indian Army from 1914-20.  He retired as Lt. Colonel and died in 1950.

Other Family Information

His eldest daughter, Miss B E Rombulow-Pearse, married Commander E G Shortland RN in December 1898.  This is how the Exeter and Plymouth Gazette of Friday 23 December 1898 reported the event:

Sad news reported by the Army and Navy Gazette on Saturday 16 October 1897:

LIEUT. A. B. ROMBULOW-PEARSE.  Lieut. Alfred Bertie Rombulow-Pearse R.M.A., third son of the late Admiral W. A. Rombulow-Pearse died of peritonitis at Malta, on Sept 30, on board the Ramillies, flagship of the Mediterranean Squadron. He joined the Royal Marine Artillery as 2nd Lieutenant on Sept. 1, 1890, and was senior subaltern at the time of his death.  He was only 24 years of age.

Plymouth Naval Memorial has the grave of Midshipman Claude Aubrey Mortimer Rombulow-Pearse who died on 22 May 1941

Arthur Egmont Rombulow-Pearse served as a Lieutenant-Colonel of the Royal Marine Light Infantry during World War 1, before becoming Paymaster at the Ports Division on 1 July 1918.  His service medals came up for auction in 2017.

Claude Alwin Rombulow Pearse (CARP) was mentioned in dispatches on 11 April 1919, as Captain RN.  He was made Commander of the Order of the British Empire (Military).  He seems to have survived a chequered career though!  In 1904 he was appointed in command of the destroyer Skate and soon collided with the Vixen. CARP was told that he was to blame for having used too much helm.  He hadn’t learned from this experience it would seem, as in 1906 when commanding the destroyer Desperate he collided with the Banshee and was once again held to blame for “having not slackened speed at the judicious point”.  Conversely though he had also been commended for his handling of the Sturgeon in rescuing the crew of the Decoy when she had collided with Arun on manoeuvres in 1904.  Perhaps collision was just an occupational hazard, more common than we might have imagined! Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Fisher, mentioned this incident in his book:

“we smile when we remember youngsters like Lieutenant Rombulow-Pearse of the ‘Sturgeon’, who rescued the crew of the sinking ‘Decoy’ in a gale of wind, with only his small whaler to help him, and with the loss of only one man, who disappeared nobody knows how.”



Three in One – Part 3b – Harry Welchman – Career Years

This is your life

On February 5th 1960 the TV presenter Eamonn Andrews surprised Harry Welchman in a taxi outside  the Riverside Studios in Hammersmith, London. This became Harry’s appearance later that week on the popular TV show of the time ‘This is Your Life’.  Unfortunately the recording of that show doesn’t exist any longer; it would have been interesting to see what, if anything, they had to say about Harry’s early family life and indeed some of the more tortuous parts of his own career.

Harry was mainly a stage performer but between 1915 and 1954 he made 19 films, some musical and others straight drama.

His obituary in The Stage in 1966 described him as:

“.… the most famous musical comedy hero of his time, with handsome stage presence and a fine voice, admirably suited to the melodious scores of the romantic shows of the ‘twenties and ‘thirties.”

His theatrical and film career is well-documented elsewhere and though I will mention in this section of the story various productions with which he was involved, I am more interested in exploring the social aspects of his life. Before starting though why not take a look at Harry Welchman in the flesh in this Youtube recording of Harry Welchman singing ‘A Bachelor Gay’ in the 1932 film ‘The Maid of the Mountains’.  Click here.

Harry Welchman 1907

At the end of the previous post we left Harry Welchman at the age of 15 living in Congresbury, Somerset, with Janet Coke and her two eldest daughters Janet Sarah and Edith.  He remained with them whilst he completed his schooling and then went straight onto the stage in 1904.  He joined a touring musical comedy company led by Ada Reeve (who also appeared in the ‘This is Your Life’ programme in 1960) and made his first appearance on stage at the Royal, Boscombe, in the chorus of Winnie Brooke, Widow.


In Princess Caprice

At the age of 20, whilst playing Dandini in Cinderella at the Marlborough, he was spotted by Robert Courtneidge, the theatrical manager-producer (also father of Cecily Courtneidge).  This led to him becoming a juvenile, and subsequently main, lead in such West End hit productions as Tom Jones (1907), The Arcadians (1909) and Princess Caprice (1912).  By this time he was living in London with his ‘foster-mother’ Janet Sarah and her sister Edith.

On 8th July 1913 Harry married his first wife, the actress Joan Challoner who was described by The Stage at the time as:

“.… a young acress who for the past eighteen months has been a member of Sir Herbert Tree’s company at His Majesty’s.  Miss Challoner became engaged to Mr Welchman during the run of ‘Drake’, in which piece she was understudy both to Miss Phyllis Neilson-Terry and Miss Amy Brandon Thomas.”

Her entry to the profession came through an interesting route, being a member of the Stock Exchange Dramatic and Operatic Society which seemed to be a philanthropic organisation aiming to promote aspiring actors.

Harry Welchman and Joan Challoner

In 1915 Harry made his first film playing the lead role in Mr Lyndon at Liberty. Then the war intervened.  It’s not clear whether Harry actually saw active service but he was commissioned in September 1916 into a Special Reserve of Officers in the Royal Field Artillery.  Harry’s theatrical career was put on hold for a while but Joan Challoner continued hers through the war, including performances in the War Relief Matinees (her matinee was under the patronage of Queen Alexandra in aid of the Women’s Emergency Corps).

Their marriage was not to last though and in 1922 Joan initiated divorce proceedings against Harry.  It’s hard to determine how scandalous this would have been at the time but it seems to have been widely reported in the press of the time and the story suggests that it was quite acrimonious.

According to the Pall Mall Gazette of 19 January 1922:

“In the Divorce Division today before Mr Justice Hill, Mrs Joan Dorothea Welchman petitioned for a decree of restitution of conjugal rights against Mr Harry Welchman, an actor.”

The article described the breakdown of their marriage and the fact that Harry had walked out in April the year before.  However, by July 1922 more details had emerged pointing to an affair that Harry was having.  The Nottingham Journal of 20 July continues the story:


Lord Buckmaster, in the Divorce Court, yesterday heard the petition of Mrs Welchman …. for a dissolution of her marriage on the ground of the adultery and non-compliance with an order for restitution of conjugal rights of her husband Mr Harry Arthur Welchman, the musical comedy actor.

Petitioner gave evidence that …. she never stayed with him at any time during 1921 at the Burford Bridge Hotel …. Edith Oliver, chambermaid at the Burford Bridge Hotel, who identified respondent by means of a photograph, gave evidence that in October, 1921, he occupied a bedroom at Burford Bridge Hotel with a woman not the petitioner.  A decree nisi with costs was granted.”

Harry’s lover seems to have been protected from the press at the time but The People of 3rd August 1924, when announcing Harry’s engagement to Sylvia Forde, chose to reveal those details:

“Harry Welchman was previously married to Joan Challoner; and after she divorced him he was expected to marry Margaret Cooper.  The two were very much attached; but, unfortunately, poor Miss Cooper died.”

Margaret Cooper

There is a superb biography of Margaret Cooper on the Kilburn and Willesden history blog site and I have chosen a few extracts here to explain some of the tragedy surrounding Harry’s divorce.  Described as the ‘Lady in the Long Silk Gloves’:

Margaret Cooper was a very popular music hall entertainer at the piano in the early part of the 20th Century  …..  Margaret was a very talented musician and composer, playing the piano, violin and organ.  After attending the Royal Academy of Music, she worked as an accompanist and sang at concerts and dinners  ….  Her lucky break came when she was spotted playing at a charity concert by theatre manager Sir Alfred Butt  …..  At first rather dubious about appearing on the variety stage, she took the plunge in October 1906 – and never looked back, she was an instant and overwhelming success.  When she appeared later that month in Bristol, she was billed as ‘The Latest London Sensation, in her Inimitable Songs at the Piano.  Her largest fee was £100 for a single performance, which is equivalent to about £8,000 today  …..  she was also in great demand for private parties, where she sang before King George V and Queen Mary and visiting royal dignitaries.

….. The death of her husband Arthur in 1918 was a severe blow to Margaret and her appearances in the London variety theatres became less frequent.  She died four years later from heart failure on 27 December 1922.  Although she’d not been in the best of health after suffering breakdown a few months earlier Margaret’s death was unexpected..  ….. Several obituaries agreed her death evoked a ‘peculiar pathos’ as Margaret was planning a new life, having agreed to marry actor and singer Harry Welchman in February 1923.  But the related scandal that could have damaged Margaret’s image was something the papers chose to ignore, presumably out of respect for the lady.

In Lady of the Rose

….. At the time of Margaret’s death Harry was appearing to good reviews in ‘The Lady of the Rose. Up to then, their engagement hadn’t been made public and there was a good reason for this.  Margaret’s obituaries fail to mention the fact Harry was going through a divorce.  In July 1922 his actress wife Joan … had been granted a decree nisi, on the grounds of Harry’s ‘statutory desertion and adultery’.  This was made final in January 1923, a month after Margaret’s death.  Her role is open to speculation, as she is never named in the newspaper reports as the ‘other woman.’

So 1922-24 was evidently a very emotional and dramatic period in Harry’s life in a non-theatrical sense – an adulterous affair, a messy divorce from his first wife, the death of his lover and then only a year later his engagement to his future second wife, Sylvia Forde.  I have already covered that engagement in Part 2 of this tale dealing with Sylvia Forde but perhaps one last quotation is of interest from The People of 3rd August 1924:

“An Actor’s Romance.  When on the first night of ‘Head over Heels’ there was a new leading lady, Mary Ellis, it looks as though a new name had arrived definitely in the West End.  But no; the the poor young lady was replaced in a few weeks, and I have never heard of her again.  Put in the chorus that night was a young woman named Sylvia Forde, then unknown, who, last week, was announced to be engaged to Harry Welchman and who, therefore, in consequence, will, I have no doubt, be heard of again.”

Harry’s career continued full flight though as he made his first Broadway appearance in Princess Flavia in 1925 but was also performing then in London in Love’s Prisoner at the Adelphi which only had a brief run and was rated by The Times as an unsuccessful mixture of Gilbert and Sullivan, melodrama and musical comedy.

Perhaps one of his most famous theatrical roles came three years later as the Red Shadow in the stage version of the Desert Song which ran at Drury Lane for more than 400 performances.  He definitely set the standard for this role.  The Stage in May 1967 was still continuing the comparison:

“.…. when Harry Welchman captured the Town at Drury Lane forty years ago, with the enchanting Edith Day as the Margot of the story, the show had a spectacular production .   “

By 1929 Harry’s career was taking another dramatic shift but this time of the theatrical sort – he entered management, setting up a production company for The White Camellia at Daly’s Theatre.  Life as a manager was to have its challenges.  We’ve already seen in part 2 about Sylvia Forde that shortly before the opening night Harry lost one of his principal dancers and Sylvia was drafted in at very short notice.  However, the book Daly’s – A Biography of the Theatre describes the financial consequences of Harry’s change of direction:

“Harry Welchman had little luck in management at Daly’s. ‘It has cost me eight thousand pounds to learn that musical comedy of the old-fashioned sort has no chance today’ said Harry Welchman in a Press interview, discussing the losses he incurred in staging first ‘The White Camellia’ and secondly reviving ‘The Lady of the Rose’ at Daly’s Theatre.”

He went on to explain:

“.… one or two of the so-called musical comedy houses are no longer business propositions.  Rents are enormous, the seating is abominable, of comforts there are none.  My advice is ‘scrap the lot’ and build some new ones, or at least leave the shells of the present theatres and reconstruct the interiors.  My dream for the future is to have a theatre with seating capacity commensurate with the biggest cinema theatres.  This theatre will have all the amenities of a picture house.  There will be no charge for programmes and no charge at the cloakrooms.”

I wonder if it was this realisation that perhaps changed his focus towards films – he made more than a dozen in the thirties and early forties, including two 1943 films The Gentle Sex and The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp.  One performance in the thirties though is definitely worth mentioning since it was local.  As the Exeter and Plymouth Gazette of 6th August 1937 describes:

“BARNSTAPLE MAN’S DESERVED TRIUMPH.  Strong Supporting Bill of Talent.

Had Harry Welchman, the famous musical comedy star, who is a native of Barnstaple and heads the variety bill at the Theatre Royal, Exeter, this week, met the wishes of audiences he would have been a very very tired man.  At each performance he had to take several ‘curtains’, sing extra songs and even when he had smilingly taken his last ‘au revoir’, the applause continued.  It was not because he was ‘one of us’ that Devon audiences have been so enthusiastic, for to most of them it was news when he made the statement at the end of his turn.  It was simply a delighted mass appreciation of his singing, which included well-known numbers from such musical plays and comedies as ‘Desert Song’, ‘Maid of the Mountains’, ‘Southern Maid’, ‘Rose Marie’, etc.  With an excellent voice he combines a charm of manner and histrionic talent that makes his songs doubly enjoyable.  Each contribution is given the right atmosphere, and how audiences have enjoyed listening to them!  One of the most successful was ‘No More War’, with its telling and dramatic recitative.  To this audiences have listened in tense silence, their applause at the conclusion demonstrating their approval of the sentiments expressed.

The high standard set in his particular sphere by Harry Welchman is characteristic of the whole programme.”

He was definitely easing off by the end of the Second World War, though it’s probably a truism that actors never retire.  As we have already seen, he moved down to Cornwall with his family in 1947 where he bought a farm but soon became involved in amateur dramatics at the Penlee Park Theatre.  This had its origins in 1948 with a successful Cornwall Shakespeare .Festival in which Harry performed in Twelfth Night and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.  The theatre stage in its first year was simply made from borrowed beer crates covered in imitation grass from the greengrocers but the following year the Penzance Town Council commissioned a proper earth and granite stage.

Here is a picture including Harry Welchman (centre) behind the scene in 1957 with the Penzance Playgoers Theatre Club.

In 1950 Harry was interviewed by the Nottingham Journal of 1st June, exploring his views on success of productions on the stage.  Harry explained:

“The play’s the thing ….. If you have not got a good play, then even the engagement of well-known people to sing in it will not help you or make any real difference if they have bad material to deal with.  The Student Prince has been a great success ever since its original production because it is based on a good play ‘Old Heidelberg’ – a most beautiful love story.  …..  To be a real success a musical play must have one or two numbers that people can get hold of.  The success lies in the music but the music is inspired by the book.  …..  The ‘Maid of the Mountains’ into which ‘A Bachelor Gay’ a song written by J W Tate was interpolated had nothing to do with the play but everyone came away whistling it.”

With these views it is strange that Harry, the non-retired actor, got involved in his final performance in 1959 – John Osborne’s play The World of Paul Slickey, a musical intended as a satire on high-society gossip columnists.  The play was apparently a complete disaster with the audience booing at the end.  Among the booing members of the audience were John Gielgud and Noël Coward, who later wrote in his diary of the play, “never in all my theatrical experience have I seen anything so appalling, appalling from every point of view“.  As the Birmingham Daily Post of 6th May commented:

“One felt sorry for the cast, especially for such veterans as Mary Lohr and Harry Welchman.”

The play closed after six weeks, rather a sad end to Harry Welchman’s career.

Harry Welchman, 24 February 1886 – 3 January 1966.

Information Sources:

Kilburn & Willesden History Blog – Margaret Cooper

Daly’s – The Biography of a Theatre – Management

All Music – Biographical

Penlee Park Theatre – time in Penzance

Big Red Book – This is your life

Wikipedia – biographical


Three in One – Part 3a – Harry Welchman – His Origins

The final person in the Three in One tale is Harry Welchman, 24 February 1886 – 3 January 1966.  Although he made several non-musical plays he was really a star of musical theatre and, as the Times remembers him, “perhaps the most popular musical comedy hero on the London stage in the years between the wars.

Originally this was simply going to be Part 3 of the tale but I have decided to split it into two sections because the research into his family background has proved interesting and gives some insight into Harry’s own development.

There is also the mystery attached to him which we are trying to unravel – how his ashes came to be interred in the same grave as Janet Sarah Coke, whom he ostensibly described as his ‘foster-mother’.  The first part of this tale outlined the time-line of Janet Coke’s life.  So I am now going to do the same for Harry Welchman’s family from before he was born to the time he embarked on his acting career.  Maybe there are some indications of where the two family lines might have overlapped and, therefore, how Janet may have ended up as Harry’s foster-mother.

Harry’s mother, Alice Mary Pheysey

Alice was born on 17 July 1851 in Staines, Middlesex, although she wasn’t baptised until six years later when the family was recorded as living in Putney.  She was one of at least seven siblings five of whom died before they were 30.

Her mother, Sarah Vicary, was born in May 1820 in Dawlish which may be the first indication of a connection with the Coke family line.  Sarah married Henry Pheysey in 1843 in Dawlish but they obviously moved up to London subsequently, their first son, Frederick being born in Islington in 1844.  The family is still shown in the 1861 census as living in Putney.

Henry was a wine and brandy merchant but he too died at the relatively young age of 49 in 1866, by which time they were living in Prince’s Square, Bayswater.  Sarah took on the business, trading still as Henry Pheysey & Co., but by 1871 was forced into bankruptcy which was finally liquidated in 1878.  She re-married in November 1884 to a William Smith at St Andrews, Walcott, Bath.

There is no evidence that Alice returned to Devon but she would probably have maintained contact with relatives there.  Could there have been some crossing of family paths in London as well?  Remember that Janet Coke was born in 1854 in Hammersmith, not that far from Putney.

Alice married Harry Welchman’s father, Arthur John Tregonwell Welchman, on October 13th 1870 at All Saints Church, Leamington.

Harry’s father, Arthur John Tregonwell Welchman

Arthur John Tregonwell Welchman was born on 10 November 1843 in Almorah, Bengal, India.  Goodness knows where the middle name ‘Tregonwell’ came from since neither of his parents bore that as a family name – his father was John Whately Welchman (1800-1870) and his mother Harriet Alzilea Martin (1820-1885).

John Whately Welchman at the time was a captain in the 10th Native Infantry (N.I.) in Bengal and rose to the rank of Major-General by 1865.  It appears that he was seriously wounded in the battle of Budlee-Ka-Sarai in 1857 as described in the History of the Bengal European Regiment:

“To the 1st Bengal Europeans it was painfully memorable; for although the enemy failed to make the slightest impression on our defences, they succeeded in severely wounding our Commanding Officer, Colonel Welchman, whilst gallantly leading his Regiment to the front.  Falling from his horse he was carried to the rear, when it was found that the elbow joint of his right arm was completely shattered …..”

Major W S R Hodson, who fought in the same campaign, expressed great concern in his letters:

Colonel Welchman with a very bad hit in the arm, in addition to his sickness when he came to Delhi from Dugshai ….. Colonel Welchman suffers severely from his wound, but bears it bravely ….. Colonel Welchman is very ill indeed. The doctors dread erysipelas, which at his age would be serious ….. Colonel Welchman dangerously ill and in great agony. I grieve deeply for the brave old man, for I fear we shall lose him

Flags of Bengal European Regiment

Colonel Welchman was awarded the Order of the Bath in 1858, probably as a result of that battle.  His obituary in the Naval & Military Gazette and Weekly Chronicle of the United Service, Wednesday 17 August 1870, is quite revealing:

“.…. He was every inch a soldier, and acquired by his manliness, his bonhomie, and his professional savoir faire, the respect and affection of all who came within the sphere of his social virtues, or of his Military command.  Like most other Officers in the Bengal Army, he saw little field service during the earlier period of his career, but he was actively employed in later years, and no one more thoroughly justified confidence in his ability than did Major-General John Welchman.”

The obituary is interesting because I wonder if those attributes of ‘bonhomie’ and ‘professional savoir faire’ reached down the family chain to his grandson Harry Welchman.

Whilst we are exploring the background of Harry’s family background it is also worth mentioning his aunt, Edith Welchman, who was a sister in the Indian Medical Service.  She was present at the Hazara campaign of 1888 and was awarded a Royal Red Cross, 1st Class, VR, for her work on the Black Mountain expedition.

Edith Welchman and her medal

Returning to Arthur John Tregonwell Welchman ….. it was inevitable that Arthur too would enter the military as was the tradition of the time.  He is already in boarding school in Leamington in 1851, according to the census of the time, and entered the military as a cadet at the age of 16 in 1859.  He went overland to Bengal the following year.  He was a lieutenant three years later, captain by June 1869, major by 1882 and Lt colonel in 1885.

His military career though appears nowhere nearly as illustrious as his father’s  In 1886 he was put onto the temporary half-pay list, probably to allow the family time out for Harry’s birth in Barnstaple, North Devon, and retired only six years later in 1892 at the age of 49.  This seems quite young for an army officer so I wonder whether he had some medical problem as well.

We will return to Harry’s birth but one thing this event shows is that army officers would periodically return to the UK and we have one piece of evidence which shows not only that Harry’s parents returned earlier in 1877 but that they were living in Shaldon on that visit.  The evidence is a curious story that appeared in the Western Morning News of 5th June 1877.  I include it here verbatim to give the story its correct sense of period:


At the Teignmouth Petty Sessions yesterday, before Mr R R Marsh-Dunn, Major Brown and Mr J G Templer, William Henry Hugo, a medical man, practising at St Nicholas, near Shaldon, was summoned for assaulting Selina Brewer, his housekeeper.  Mr Flood, of Exeter, appeared for the complainant, and Mr Creed, of Newton Abbot, for the defendant.

It was stated that the defendant lets a part of his house to a Captain and Mrs Welchman, and that on May 25th last, when he came home the worse for liquor, he commenced a quarrel with the housekeeper, who was frying fish for Captain Welchman, remarking that he (defendant) ought to have his own meals before the lodgers.  A dispute ensued as to whether the fish belonged to him or to Captain Welchman, and defendant used disgusting and threatening language to the inmates of the house, including Mary Towell, a dressmaker, who was working for Mrs Welchman.  His conduct was so strange that the whole party retreated to Mrs Welchman’s bedroom and locked the door.

Defendant, who had previously threatened to kick Miss Towel and her sewing machine out of the house, attempted to force open the door several times, and on going to the kitchen and finding the housekeeper there he caught hold of her and tried to push her out of the house, and this was the assault complained of.

Mr Creed, on behalf of his client, admitted the offence, but pleaded aggravation on the part of the housekeeper, who had neglected to get the defendant’s meals ready on the day in question.  He called William Woolway, a shopkeeper, of Shaldon, who stated that on the day named he was at the house form seven o’clock to half-past, and there saw defendant, who was perfectly sober, and who told him that he had had a quarrel with Mrs Brewer because she had not given her any food for the day.

In cross-examination Woolway said that he did not hear the quarrel, and that before he went to defendant’s house he paid for two glasses of beer for the doctor at a public-house near his house.  The Bench fined the defendant 10s, including costs.

Captain Arthur John Welchman was then charged with assaulting Mr Hugo on May 25th.  Complainant deposed that just after the disturbance, as stated in the previous case, had terminated, he met the defendant at the door of his house.  He was very excited at the time, and after using threatening language, said ‘I’ll thrash you, you hound’.  He then struck him a violent blow near the heart, from the effects of which he was still suffering.  He also slapped his face twice and then kicked him off the ground about five or six feet, and he fell at a distance of twelve feet from where he had been standing. (Laughter).

The defendant, later in the evening, adjourned to the drawing-room with his wife, and there had great rejoicings over what he had done.  They were singing duets and playing the piano until a late hour in the morning. (Loud laughter).  One of the females then asked Mrs Welchman to polish him off and scratch his eyes out.

In cross-examination he said the blow near his heart was a very severe one, and he had not attended any of his patients since, but he had been out.  Bessie Northam, a little girl, who was opposite to Mr Hugo’s house, stated that she heard the quarrel between Captain Welchman and Mr Hugo, and saw the former lift his foot, but would not swear that Captain Welchman kicked Mr Hugo.  In defence, Mr Flood denied the evidence given by Mr Hugo, and called several witnesses, who positively swore that no assault whatever had been committed, nor did Captain Welchman even attempt to strike complainant.  The Bench dismissed the case.

Mr Hugo was then charged with assaulting Mrs Welchman, but the magistrates dismissed the case.”

Apart from being a fascinating story (I love the parenthesised “Laughter” in the courtroom) it does place the Welchmans in Shaldon in 1877.  But why had they gone to live in Shaldon?  We know that Alice Welchman had family on her mother’s side in Dawlish but also, from the Coke family line, Janet Sarah Coke (i.e. Harry’s future foster-mother) might still have been living in Stoke-in Teignhead with her family at that time.  If Alice had known Janet in London then that might be another reason for the stay in Shaldon.  Alternatively, the two families may have actually met up there in 1877 and kept in contact subsequently.

Now let’s return to Harry Welchman himself.

We know that his father retired in 1892 so it is likely that Harry returned with his parents back to Bengal until that time which explains the lack of reference in the 1891 census.  Then, with his parents back in England, we know that Harry went to school in Weston-super-Mare.  Is it reasonable to assume that he wasn’t boarding there and that therefore his parents had retired to that area?  Coincidentally, perhaps, the Coke family were by this time living in Bristol (about 20 miles north) and in 1901 in Congresbury (about 11 miles east).

According to his obituary in the Times he was a sporting boy, playing, as he said, all the games, including hockey at county level.  We know little more about his life at school but we do know that big changes occurred when he was thirteen and in the subsequent couple of years.

His mother died then, in December 1899; curiously her death is registered in St Olave’s parish in Southwark.  Why though didn’t Harry just continue living with his father?  We know from the 1901 census that his father was now living in Dawlish, whilst Harry was now with the Coke family in Congresbury.  His father had also been declared bankrupt in January of that year, despite receiving an army pension of £420 and employing a housekeeper!  The 1911 Census shows him in St Helier, Jersey, with two visitors from London – Beatrice Sanders (40) and Gordon Sanders (15).  He marries her in 1915 and dies two years later.  It is almost as though he had abandoned Harry and was just interested in his own life.

So, in summary, what do we make of Harry’s origins and early life?

He came from a strong military background but chose to turn his back on that (although he did join the reserves during WW1).

His grandfather in particular seemed to have had a fairly illustrious career.  Did the qualities identified in his obituary pass through to Harry – ‘bonhomie’ and ‘professional savoir faire’?

Did he feel abandoned by his father after his mother’s death and, if so, how did that affect him?

There seem to have been a number of opportunities for the Welchman and Coke family paths to have crossed but no definite evidence of when or how it might have happened.

However the relationship with the Coke family formed it is obvious that Harry regarded it as overridingly special – why else would his ashes be interred in the grave of Janet Sarah Coke whom he regarded as his foster-mother?  Perhaps living with the Cokes was the first time he felt some real love, warmth and caring.

Information Sources:

History of Bengal European Regiment

Twelve years of a Soldier’s Life in India

Edith Welchman medals

Three in One – Part 2 – Sylvia Forde

Leaving behind the mystery of Janet Sarah Coke we now add a little glamour and intrigue to the Three in One tale.  Sylvia Forde was Harry Welchman’s second wife.  She too worked in the theatre, almost married a Prince and, importantly for Harry, she provided him with massive support when he toured the country.

Early Years

Sylvia Forde 1924

Sylvia Charlotte Helen Welchman (nee Forde) was born in Germany in 1902.  She was the elder daughter of Henry Bligh Forde and Hedwig von Dieskau.  Henry was an Irish naval engineer.  Hedwig is described as “of noble background” and was a lady-in-waiting to Queen Victoria’s grand-daughter, Princess Charlotte (sister of Kaiser Wilhelm II).

Henry died in 1910 shortly after the birth of his second daughter, Feodora, who later changed her name to become the famous actress Jane Baxter.  Henry was buried in St Mary Church Cemetery in Merton.  It’s not certain when the family moved to England, settling in Wimbledon, but there is evidence of Hedwig moving in the social circles in 1913 and also, perhaps, of how both her daughters eventually became involved with the stage..

The Pall Mall Gazette of 12 July 1913 reports:

“The vocal recital given by Mrs Henry Bligh Forde in the Aeolian Hall, yesterday afternoon, was full of agreeable artistic features.  In the first place the programme had been skilfully put together, never lacking in the proper variety and interest, and also the singer herself showed she knew what to do with it.  Her voice is classed as contralto but whatever it may be in range its timbre is of a light soprano quality.  Thoroughly efficient in the manner of production Mrs Forde ….. happily suggested the moods of such songs as Schubert’s ‘Haiden Röslein’ ……”

Stage Career

So, however it came about, Sylvia embarked upon a career on the stage, followed a few years after by her sister Feodora.  The earliest reference I can find to Sylvia’s acting career is from an article in The Stage of 18 December 1919.  The article was about a production at The Ambassadors theatre – a light opera by Bernard Rolt, appropriately titled “Sylvia’s Lovers”!

The story was summarised in The Graphic of 20 December 1919:

“The Ambassador’s Theatre has got a perfect artistic gem in the little opera called ‘Sylvia’s Lovers’, written by Mr Cosmo Gordon Lennox from the French of Marivaux to music by Mr Bernard Rolt.  The story revolves around the fascination of Stanislas, the Prince of Luneville, for a country wench, Sylvia, while his cousin, the Princess Clementine shows equally plebeian tastes, by falling in love with Sylvia’s bumpkin lover.  The whole atmosphere of the thing has been caught admirably by the players …

The Stage though specifically mentions Sylvia’s role:

“Mention should be made also of ….. the delightful old world Pastoral Ballet, the typical eighteenth century strains of which are illustrated in miming by Misses Bryonie Wake and Sylvia Forde as rustic lovers.”

Acting is, and probably was then too, a fickle profession.  If Sylvia had star potential it was never realised, yet her younger sister Feodora went on to make it in Hollywood.

Extravagance – the Boccaccio scene


The next reference I can find to Sylvia on the stage is having a role in an apparently innovative, extravagant revue at the New Oxford Theatre, “Mayfair and Montmartre”.  After a stuttering start on its first night the papers were full of praise for this show – “The most discussed revue in London” as The Graphic described it on 15 April 1922.  “Magnificent”, “spectacular” were how other reviews described it.



Yet in all the reviews there was no mention of Sylvia. The sole reference is a picture of her which appeared in The Illustrated and Sporting Dramatic News of 22 April 1922 in which she is shown disporting one of the famous costume dresses for which, together with the extravagant scenery, the flamboyant revue became known.


There is sporadic reference to her stage career after that so here is a brief summary of what I have been able to discover:

In November 1923 at The Alhambra was a mixed revue of a marimba band, singers and, according to The Era of 21 November:

“Mr Seymour Hicks, with Miss Sylvia Forde, raised the audience to a high pitch of enthusiasm with the intensity of his acting.”

In the following month Sylvia appeared again with Seymour Hicks at the Theatre Royal, Dublin, in Sacha Guitry’s ‘famous’ one-act play “Waiting for a Lady”.  Associated with such names you would think that Sylvia’s career would have taken off …. but it didn’t.  Sacha Guitry was a famous French playwright and film producer, awarded the Legion d’ Honneur in 1931.  Seymour Hicks (later Sir Seymour Hicks) was a British actor, music-hall performer, playwright, screenwriter, actor-manager and producer.  The Dublin Evening Telegraph wrote:

“The enterprise of the Hippodrome management in bringing over Seymour Hicks had its reward last night.  All seats were booked out and many were turned away.  The famous actor-manager, so familiar with Dublin audiences for his successes of the past, was seen in a one-act play entitled ‘Waiting for a Lady’, cleverly adapted by Seymour Hicks from Sacha Guitry’s ‘Sleeping Partners’.  The little comedy gave Hicks opportunity for the full play of his wondrous artistry.  He was assisted by Miss Sylvia Forde, who filled her little part in an accomplished manner”.

In January 1924 she played Lady Margaret Lindlay at the Royal Court, Liverpool, in Sir Jackanapes, a romantic costume play by A W Gattie and incidental music by Hermann Lohr.  Also in the cast was Harry Welchman, who was actor-manager for the production.  Sylvia was praised by The Stage (31 January 1924) for making a success of her role ‘by her ease, simplicity and charm’.  The play was on tour and next featured at the Prince of Wales theatre, Birmingham.  The Birmingham Daily Gazette of 15 March explained that:

“The hero is a smuggler and the heroine, played by Sylvia Forde, is the daughter of a man bent on capturing him.  By all accounts it should be really well worth seeing”

I wonder if the journalist was perhaps prophetic ….. (see later).

In June 1925 Sylvia appeared again in a small part with Harry Welchman at the Alhambra for a fortnight in a three-act musical play, The Bamboula, by H M Vernon and Guy Bolton.  The lyrics were by Douglas Furber and Irving Caesar, whilst the music was composed by Albert Sirmay and Harry Rosenthal.  It appears that this followed a two-month run at His Majesty’s Theatre.  For anyone interested in the plot, according to The Guide to Musical Theatre:

The Bamboula is a Ruritanian piece built to showcase the comical prince of a mid-European country known as Corona. Whilst pursuing the rich Donna Juanita across Europe he becomes involved in a mixup of identities with a young dance instructor and simultaneously catches rumblings of rebellion from home. He solves both problems by despatching the dance teacher to Corona as ‘Deputy Bamboula’ only to find that the lad becomes popular enough with the princess and the populace to become both husband and ruler whilst he himself is spurned by the Brazilian lady in favour of a German hotelier.

In September 1926 the same Birmingham Daily Gazette commented on ‘the winsome grace of Miss Sylvia Forde’ as the Princess Margaret in the touring production of The Student Prince.  Harry Welchman was described as “the handsomest, most debonair, and most fascinating Prince that could possibly be wished for” and of the production itself they said:

“This must be surely the most sumptuous production on tour today.  The mounting and dressing are on a scale of positive magnificence – ‘no expense spared’ as they say …..”

September 1927 saw her at The Apollo in a production of The Music Master, a three act play by Charles Klein.  She played Octavia, one of the sisters, whom she ‘represented acceptably’ according to The Stage of 8th September.  However The Sporting Times slated the production:

“The rest of the acting was undistinguished, nearly as undistinguished as the writing.  However, the players did what they could with poor parts.  I was most amused by Moya Nugent and Sylvia Forde as a couple of giggling girls.  They certainly giggled fine!”

In March 1929 Sylvia came to the rescue of Harry Welchman.  As The Era of 6 March 1929 explained:

“It was a shock for Mr Harry Welchman, recently to make a costly incursion into actor-management with The White Camellia, when shortly before the first night at Daly’s, Julia Suedo, one of the principal dancers, hurt her knee.  There was no understudy, and the difficulty was to find an understudy.  Then Mr Welchman remembered that his wife, Sylvia Forde, could dance although she had not appeared on stage for eight years (sic).  She began practising the principal dance at four o’clock on the afternoon of production and continued until just before the rise of the curtain.  Although tired, naturally, she came through the performance with flying colours ……

Miss Sylvia Forde danced and played without any trace of unpreparedness.  A very praiseworthy performance indeed, which thoroughly deserved the applause bestowed upon it.”

The Sphere of 30th March explained the plot which was simple but ‘thickens’:

“Miss Sylvia Forde as the dancing girl and M. Klit-Gaarde as the sinister major in The White Camellia conspire, one through love of the prince, the other through ambition, to assassinate the king of the inevitable Central European State.”

The adjacent photograph shows Sylvia, as Sonda, attempting the assassination with Harry Welchman, as Lt Paul Carret, standing between her and the target king.

The White Camellia appears to mark a long break in Sylvia’s stage career though she made a single comeback in a revival of The Student Prince in 1939, reprising her role from thirteen years earlier of Princess Margaret.  The adjacent photograph is from the Daily Record of 14 April that year portraying her at the Glasgow Alhambra.  In one of those spooky coincidences the Evening Despatch of 11 April 1939 published a review of the Student Prince, mentioning Sylvia, and on the same page also had a picture of her sister Jane Baxter who starred in the recently finished film version of ‘The Ware Case’.

The Burmese Prince

Sylvia Forde may not have made it as a star of stage and screen but she did have one moment of fame that she perhaps lived to regret.  Romance.  It happened at the end of July/ beginning of August of 1922.

On 5th August 1922 the Straits Times of Singapore carried a small announcement on page 8 of its edition that day:

“The engagement is announced of His Highness Maha Minhla Thugyaw of Mandalay and Miss Sylvia Forde of Wimbledon.”

America was a week behind.  The Washington Herald of 12 August reported:

“English weddings with princes in attendance are quite the fashion. The next one on society’s calendar will be the wedding of Miss Sylvia Helen Forde and the prince this time will be the groom.  He is Prince Maung Maung Gyi of Mandalay, grandson of King Mindon of Burma. His father, Theebaw, last king of Burma, was deposed by the British in 1885. The prince was photographed recently while visiting Miss Forde in England.”

A month later the news reached North Dakota!

Unfortunately communication in the 1920s was obviously not as swift as today so even by the time the Straits Times made that simple announcement the story had already moved on in the British press.

The name of the Prince is reported differently in the various articles you read but in a sense that is unimportant.  He was reported as being the great-grandson of King Mindon of Burma who was the father of the last king of Burma deposed in 1885.  Having decided to study engineering in London the prince wanted to live the life of any other student and for that reason referred to himself as Mr Gyi.  It was under that name that he first met Sylvia Forde and later became engaged to her.  It was only after two or three months of ‘courtship’ that he revealed his real name and rank.

The engagement seems to have been officially announced on or about the 24th July, as the Hull Daily Mail of that date reported:

“The engagement is announced between Maung Maung Gyi his Highness the Maha Min Hla Thugyaw, son of Maung Maung U and Khin Khin, their Highnesses the Maha Min Hla Thugaung of Mandalay, the great grandson of His Majesty the late King Mindon of Burma, and Miss Sylvia Charlotte Helen Forde, daughter of the late Mr Harry Bligh Forde, A.M.I.C.E., A.M.I.E.E., late of St Brendons , Wimbledon, and Mrs H B Forde, of 57 Merton Hall Road, Wimbledon, and grand-daughter of the late Mr and Mrs Henry Charles Forde and Baron and Baroness Von Dieskau.  The marriage will take place shortly in London.”

Wrap your brains around that!!

According to the Hartlepool Northern Daily Mail of 29 July:

“The Prince has been in England a little over a year studying engineering in London, and celebrated his twentieth birthday in June.  Miss Forde is about two months younger, and they became acquainted six months ago through a friend and fellow student.  He was known to Mrs and Miss Forde as Maung Gyi, the name he has adopted since he has been in England, and not until after the engagement did they discover his real identity.”

How wonderful, you might imagine.  But protocol intervened.

Only a week after their first report the Hull Daily Mail conveyed the bad news:

“News of the projected marriage between Prince Maung Gyi of Burma and Miss Sylvia Forde of Wimbledon having been cabled to India, the young Prince’s relatives have intervened to postpone it ….. Mrs Forde believes that his former guardian has incorrectly informed the father that the marriage was to take place immediately ….. ‘That was not their intention nor was it my wish,’ the mother declares, ‘for my daughter is only 19 and I should prefer that she did not marry for another year or two.’ ….. Prince Gyi sails for Burma almost immediately, and says he is convinced that when his father knows all the facts, and they have talked it over together, he will raise no objection to the match.”

Unfortunately Prince Gyi’s faith in his conviction proved to be misplaced.  The machinery of royal protocol and bureaucracy was already in motion as the Dundee Courier of the same day explained:

“The progress of the romance of Prince Maung Chi of Burmah and Miss Sylvia Forde, of Wimbledon, has received a check which must be very annoying to the young couple.  Their engagement was announced only a week ago, and now the unromantic Registrar General’s Office has banned any prospective wedding by refusing a licence.  His minions all over the kingdom have been notified, and a civil marriage south of Gretna Green is thus impossible.  Presumably the machinery has been set in motion from far off Mandalay.  At least Prince Chi thinks so ….”

The Hartlepool Northern Daily Mail of the same date gave more information and a view from the Prince himself:

“This step has, says the Times, been taken on telegraphed instructions of the Prince’s father Maung Maung U ….. As the Prince is under age his parents’ consent is necessary before a licence can be obtained ….. The Prince explained yesterday that the objection had evidently been made under the impression that the marriage was to take place immediately.  ‘It was never our intention to marry before I was 21,’ he said, ‘but we were anxious to announce the engagement.  I understand that objection has been lodged by a gentleman who was recently acting as my guardian over here ….. I had already written to my father but think that he can not have received my letter yet and has telegraphed under a complete misapprehension as to the social status of my fiancee’.”

Poor Sylvia.  Prince Gyi never returned.

Life with Harry Welchman

Whether Sylia ever truly recovered from the forced breakdown of her relationship with Prince Gyi we shall probably never know.  18 months later though she was now taking part in the production of Sir Jackanapes in which Harry Welchman was the actor-manager of the production.  Romance blossomed once again and in July that year the couple announced their engagement which appeared in the papers in various guises.  The Dundee Evening Telegraph of 30 July chose an interesting (salacious?) slant to the story:

“DIVORCED ACTOR SINGER TO WED AGAIN.  The engagement is announced of Mr Harry Welchman, the actor singer, to Miss Sylvia Bligh Forde, daughter of the late Henry Bligh Forde.

Mr Harry Welchman is the son of the late Colonel Arthur Welchman, 12th Bengal Cavalry, and is at present appearing in The Street Singer at the Lyric Theatre.  His fine stage presence and flashing eyes make him the idol of the devotees of romantic drama with music.

Miss Forde was in the chorus of the musical play ‘Head Over Heels’ at the Adelphi Theatre last year until Seymour Hicks chose her to be his leading lady in the music hall playlet ‘Waiting for a Lady’, in succession to Miss Barbara Hoffe.

Miss Forde, who is a pretty girl, lives with her mother in Wimbledon.  Mr Welchman was formerly married to Miss Joan Challoner, a young actress from His Majesty’s Theatre.  She obtained a decree of divorce against him in 1922.”

The Birmingham Daily Gazette of 31 July referred to it rather more kindly as ‘Romance of the Theatre’ and printed the accompanying photograph.


They married on 9 April 1925 although the ceremony was kept secret as subsequently reported by the Belfast Telegraph of 10 April:

“HARRY WELCHMAN’S WEDDING.  Mr Harry Welchman, the actor-singer, was on Thursday afternoon, the Evening News learns, married to Miss Sylvia Bligh Forde, of Wimbledon.  The civil ceremony took place at Kingston-on-Thames register office.  A religious ceremony was afterwards held in the Savoy Chapel.  The date of the wedding had been kept secret although the engagement of Mr Welchman and Miss Forde was announced in July last..”

In February 1927 the Sketch carried a photograph of the couple in the South of France with the caption:


Mr Harry Welchman, the well-known stage favourite and vocalist, has been on the Riviera with Mrs Welchman (formerly Miss Sylvia Forde).  Our snapshot show the delights of picking oranges in the South.”



The following year their daughter Pamela was born and in 1931 a picture of the family appeared in the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic news of 31 October.

Apart from her reprise in the Student Prince in 1939 Sylvia seems to drop out of the media spotlight from then onwards.



Pamela & Lochinvar

We know the family, including 20 year old Pamela and her horse Lochinvar, moved down to Ludgvan in Cornwall in 1948 but the next, and last, mention of her that I can find is her attendance on 26 July 1992 at the London Palladium.  The occasion was a tribute to Evelyn Laye, a contemporary of Sylvia, in aid of the Multiple Sclerosis Society and the Theatrical Ladies Guild.  Her sister, Jane Baxter, also attended.

Sylvia Charlotte Bligh Forde died a year later, having survived Harry by 27 years.  Their daughter Pamela died in 2017.  Her memorial service was held at St Erth Church in Hayle, Cornwall.  She was not interred with her parents.

Sylvia Forde 1902-1993











Other Information Sources:

Le Minh Khai’s seasian history blog – Prince Gyi

Guide to musical theatre – the Bamboula

London Musicals 1925-29 – the Bamboula

New York Times – Jane Baxter

Picturegoer Weekly – Jane Baxter




Three in One

The credit for the discovery of this story must go to one of our keen volunteers, Jean Gitsham.  It is a tribute to the almost archaeological tenacity required to locate and uncover the burial sites of people who have an historic attachment with Teignmouth.  Like many such discoveries serendipity places a part.  In Jean’s own words:

I was looking at section SS grid given to me by Dave T, probably when I should have been sorting my own house and garden.  Anyway I started googling unusual names and amazingly all the Harry Welchman info appeared .. cemetery record of death date made it likely we had Harry.  So Geoff and I at next FOTC work session tried to work out where grave was likely to be.  It was in area where graves covered under dense ivy and brambles .. foliage so thick definitely no sign of either headstone or kerb.  However at following work session I told Selina about the possibility of us having famous music hall star; she was determined and we both set to clearing the grave with Selina doing majority of clearance work.  When I pulled back the brambles covering the horizontal inscription stone we had a bit of a giggle when the first words seen were he gave pleasure to many’.

Three in one grave

The story became even more fascinating though on reading the rest of the stone which revealed that the remains of three people were interred in the plot – Janet Sarah Coke, Henry Arthur Welchman and Sylvia Forde.  The immediate intriguing question was how three lives became intertwined so closely that their epitaph remains on a single grave in Teignmouth Old Cemetery.



This is what this tale attempts to unravel, in three parts starting with Janet Sarah Coke.

Thanks to Dave Tovey and Geoff Wood for their industrious research into official records which was of immense value in putting a time-line together.



Part 1 – Janet Sarah Coke

Janet Sarah Coke died in October 1945, aged 92.  She left £4438 in her will “all of which she bequeathed to Harry Welchman, the actor, desiring him to dispose of the same in accordance with any memorandum left by her”.

According to the Newcastle Evening Chronicle of 26 March 1946 Harry Welchman told a reporter that his real mother had died when he was quite young and Janet Coke had been his foster mother.  He said “I lived with her and her sister until I was 16 years old when I went on the stage ….. during the last year or so Miss Coke has lived with my wife and me”.

Little has been discovered about Janet Coke’s own life other than that it seems to have been shaped by the ups and downs of her father’s occupation as a photographer.  They travelled around the country and at some point must have become acquainted with the Welchman family for the fostering arrangement to have happened.  So the rest of this part of the story sets the scene and time-line of the Coke family movements.

Janet’s parents were Archibald Lewis Coke (also spelt as Cocke in various references) and Janet MacKay.  He was the youngest son of a surgeon, Arthur Coke, whilst she was the daughter of a Captain MacKay RM and they married at St James, Picadilly, in December 1852.  Janet, their youngest daughter, was born two years later in Hammersmith followed by sisters Edith in 1856 and Alice in 1858.

Archibald Coke (from Princeton University collection)

Photography was in its infancy in the mid-19th century and Archibald Coke was one of its pioneers.  Judging by the references to him, he was also one of the leading exponents in this exciting new artistic medium.  He was certainly one of the earliest British photographers to make a living from his art.  The photograph here is apparently what we would now call a selfie of Archibald Coke.

He opened his first photographic studio with his brother Arthur in 1847 at 44 Regent Street.  At that time it would have been known as a “daguerrotype” studio because of the original technology invented by Louis Daguerre that resulted in photographic images being produced on silvered copper plates.  Archibald soon adapted to a new medium though – the calotype, which involved the production of an image on paper coated with silver iodide.

It is in this medium that Archibald gained his reputation.  He submitted fifteen calotypes to the “Exhibition of Recent Specimens of Photography” which is regarded as the first exhibition in the world dedicated to photography and ran in the House of the Society of Arts in London from December 22 1852 to January 29 1853.  The University of Princeton has a collection of his works and writes:

Of many highlights in Princeton’s album of early photography compiled by Richard Willats (ca.1820-after 1881), the calotypes by Archibald Lewis Cocke (1824-1896) are among the most important.

He was also lauded in the 1854 Arts Journal:

“one of the oldest photographers whose landscape subjects on paper are unsurpassed for truth and beautiful detail,”

Devonshire (from Princeton University collection)

In 1850 his brother left the business but by 1854 Archibald had teamed up with another photographer, Thomas Nashum Kirkham, to form the Institute of Photography at 179 Regent Street.  His interests were also moving towards architecture and historic buildings, pictures of which he exhibited in the 1855 exhibition at the Photographic Institution in London.  He also took part in the 1861 Architectural Photographic Exhibition with a series on Exeter Cathedral.

All of the above sets the scene for Janet’s family early background – daughter of a successful commercial photographer who appeared to have been well regarded in London and by professionals in the arts world.  But 1861, or thereabouts, seems to have marked a turning point in the family’s fortunes.

The 1861 census records Archibald and his family (wife, three daughters and a servant Jane Merrifield) as living at East Wonford Cottage, Heavitree, Exeter.  Archibald’s parents came from the West Country, his father from Cornwall and his mother from Bradford in the district of Torridge, Devon.  His uncle through his mother’s side was Lewis Risdon Heysett so he himself was a descendant of the renowned Devon historian Tristram Risdon.  But what now caused Archibald to give up an apparently successful commercial enterprise in London and move down to Exeter is a mystery.  Maybe he had been commissioned to produce his series of photographs of Exeter Cathedral and had decided to stay.

Within a year though Archibald had filed for bankruptcy.  According to the Exeter Flying Post of 16 April 1862:

“Mr Commissioner Andrews granted an order of discharge to A L Cook, a photographer of Wonford.  The bankrupt owes his creditors £769 1s 9d, to meet which there are assets amounting to £115 12s 2d.”

Whatever the outcome of that bankruptcy it is clear that Archibald was still able to support his family.  The 1871 census shows the family as living at Endfield Cottage, Stokeinteignhead and they now had a fourth daughter, Amy Harriet, who was either born in 1864 in Heavitree, Exeter, or in 1865 in Newton Abbot depending on which census transcript you choose to believe.

Archibald was still in the photography business but had obviously left the London life behind and there appear to be no further references to his works in London exhibitions etc.  But in the North Devon Gazette of 24 August 1869 we read that:

“A large number of photographers have competed for the £5 prize offered for the best photographs of Westward Ho! and consequently a large number have been sent in for approval.  Those of Mr Archibald Coke, of Newton, however, stand out from all the rest as being superior in every respect.  We inspected the photographs yesterday , and quite agree with the judges in their decision; they, together with the scientific committee in connection with the British Association Excursion having unanimously awarded the prize to Mr Coke.  They are really splendid pictures, and compared with them many of the others are mere daubs.”

By 1881 the family had moved to 19 Goldney Road, Clifton, Bristol and were still in Clifton in 1891.  All four daughters were living there, none had married and by this time Janet Sarah Coke was 36.

Archibald continued to be mentioned in despatches.  The following advertisement of Heard and Sons comes from The Cornish Telegraph of 26 May 1880:

Triumphal Arch, Truro, 1880

“Royal Visit to Truro.  Preliminary Announcement.  Very successful negatives of the Triumphal Arches have been taken in two sizes by Mr Archibald Coke of Clifton, the well known landscape and architectural photographer under the special direction of Mr Trevail, the architect.  As soon as they can be properly printed proofs will be exhibited in our windows and orders taken.  Each arch has been photographed on both sides with flags and mottoes complete and the entire series will comprise ten views in each size.”

Archibald died on 26th February 1896 but curiously his address in the probate register was given as Barton Regis workhouse (St Thomas, Eastville, Stapleton, Gloucestershire).  The probate showed him as leaving an estate of £343 14s so why was he living in the workhouse?  Had something happened to break up the family between 1891 and 1896?

Certainly by the time of the 1901 census the family had split.  The mother, Janet, was now living in Congresbury, Somerset, with her two eldest daughters Janet Sarah and Edith.  Living with them now was Harry Welchman, age 15.  Meanwhile it appears that the youngest daughter, Amy, had married but by the time of the 1911 census she was a widow living in Horfield, Bristol, with her sister Alice.  At the same time, 1911, Janet Sarah and her sister Edith had moved back to Maida Vale, London, and Harry Welchman was still living with them, now aged 25.  On the census they were described as Harry’s aunts although there is no evidence of a family connection.

By 1939 all four sisters had returned to Devon and were living within several miles of each other.  Amy and Alice were living in Devon Square, Newton Abbot whilst Janet Sarah and Edith were in Barton Crescent in Dawlish.  Edith died in June 1941 and was buried in Teignmouth Old Cemetery.  It would appear that Janet Sarah subsequently returned to London.  The probate registry gives her address as 39 Marryat Road Wimbledon at the time of her own death in 1945.  We can only imagine that it was her wish to be buried close to her sister from whom she had not been separated throughout their family life, hence her appearance in Teignmouth Cemetery.

From this time-line and background to Janet Sarah Coke’s life we still do not have a definitive explanation for the link with Harry Welchman.  We do know though (as we’ll see later) that Harry Welchman was born in Barnstaple which is about 25 miles north of Bradford where Janet’s mother came from.  And we also know that Harry came to live with the family some time between 1896 and 1901.

The story continues in Part 2 with Sylvia Forde, Harry Welchman’s second wife.

Information Sources:

Princeton University ….

Exhibition of Recent Specimens of Photography – article

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York – approved biography

The History of Photography, Helmut Gernsheim, Thames & Hudson, London

The Athenaeum (Journal of Literature, Science and the Fine Arts), 1855 – advertisement



Bombing Casualties – Henry and Elizabeth Williams

The Wonder of the Web!

It would be nice to think that news of Teignmouth Cemetery has gone global.  We’re not quite there but we have had another international contact recently, this time from Tom Williams of Anaheim, California.

Kerb inscription 2015

Tom had visited the cemetery in 2015 and, amongst the overgrowth and brambles, had managed to find the grave of his great-grandparents – Henry John and Elizabeth Mary Williams.

Two of the FOTC volunteers, Jean Gitsham and Geoff Wood, went in search of their grave and described what they found:

“We were expecting the Williams grave to be covered in dense brambles however when we located the grave it was completely hidden under dense tangled ivy plus had a large anthill on it as well …

Cleared grave, ready for planting

Around 8 large tubs of ivy pulled off the grave with lots of stubborn roots removed with mattocks …around 10.30am Mal joined us helping with our mammoth ivy clearance task…lots of heavy work resulting in muddy conditions … “

According to the 1939 register Henry was a private gardener.  They both died on 2nd September 1942 in a bombing raid on Teignmouth in which their house, 11 Higher Brook Street, was hit. Henry was 82 and Elizabeth 79.  Two other residents there, Alice Jemima James and Rosa Victoria Turpin, were also killed along with neighbours nextdoor in number 10.

On Teignmouth Seafront 1935

This was just one incident in ten raids that Teignmouth suffered between 1941 and 1943.  More details of these and a full list of those who died in the bombings and are buried in the Cemetery are given on the Bombing Casualties page.

Tom sent us this wonderful picture of his great-grandparents promenading along Teignmouth seafront before the war.

Robert Arthington – Philanthropist – The Millionaire Miser

From Liberia to Teignmouth

The Cemetery continues to raise bizarre connections with the outside world.

In April 2012 Charles Taylor, the former president of Liberia, was found guilty by a Special Court in the Hague of eleven charges of atrocities including terror, murder and rape.  He was subsequently sentenced to 50 years in prison of which the Presiding Judge, Richard Lussick, said: “The accused has been found responsible for aiding and abetting as well as planning some of the most heinous and brutal crimes recorded in human history.”

A gruesomely true story which has a strangely ironical connection with Teignmouth.

Charles Taylor was born in Arthington, Liberia, a small town situated on the St Paul river northwest of Monrovia, the capital city.  Arthington was first settled in 1869 and was named after Robert Arthington, a Victorian philanthropist whose life and beliefs are diametrically opposed to those of Charles Taylor.

Robert Arthington is buried in Teignmouth Old Cemetery and his story is extraordinary.  A millionaire, he lived like a pauper and gave his wealth to initiatives that spread the gospel across the world in Africa, Asia and South America.

As usual the story began with the discovery of his grave and its strange epitaph which reflects the Victorian aethos of his philanthropy.

“Robert Arthington, His life and wealth was devoted to the spread of the Gospel among the Heathen.”


A Brief History

Robert Arthington – From Leeds Photographic Archive collection

Robert Arthington was born in Leeds on 20 May 1823.  He was one of four children, and the only son, of Robert and Maria Arthington, a wealthy Quaker family.  Perhaps somewhat surprisingly for a Quaker, his father ran a successful brewery business but his conscience eventually caused him to give it up and devote himself to the cause of temperance.

Robert jr studied at Cambridge University where he apparently excelled as a student but chose not to take a degree. Following his mother and two of his sisters, he left the Society of Friends and joined the South Parade Baptist Church in 1848. When his parents died in 1864 (within a couple of months of each other) he found that he had inherited an enormous fortune of over £200,000.  Despite this capital he never started his own business but invested his money instead, mostly in British and American railways, which proved a very successful way of increasing his wealth.

We may never know whether this was fortuitous or whether he really had an astute business sense.  What is widely documented though is that he had a clear purpose and vision of what he wanted to do with his wealth.  He was determined to direct it to good causes, in particular the promotion of missionary work around the world in the unknown areas then being explored and opened up particularly in Africa and Asia.

It appears that a second major change in his life occurred in his late forties.  The story goes that around 1870 he fell in love and he had a large new house built in Headingley Lane for himself and his prospective bride – but he was jilted at the last minute.  Whether true or not, it seems that from this point he drifted further and further into a reclusive life in the house he had built.

Headingley House – From Leeds Photographic Archive collection

He occupied a single room, cooked his own meals, wore the same coat for seventeen years and made friends with students who were in need. He slept on a chair, wrapping himself with his coat. He did not allow anyone access to his room, except special visitors. He would not even light the room for visitors, as he believed that “it was possible to speak as well in the dark as you could in the light“. He limited his weekly expenditure to half-a-crown. This self-imposed austerity and eccentricity earned him a nickname – the “Headingley Miser”. No one saw him smile, and his greeting was always an enquiry after your soul.

The Thoresby Society (The Historical Society of Leeds and District) portray him thus:

“In the later years of the nineteenth century an odd, gloomy figure was to be seen from time to time in Headingley village, buying a few necessities of life, dressed in old clothes green with age and an ancient stovepipe hat passed down from his father. This was Robert Arthington, often called ‘the Headingley miser’, the subject of much talk and speculation in his lifetime and legendary after his death for his legacies of over a million pounds.”

Found amongst his belongings after his death was a letter from a missionary who wrote:

“Were I in England again, I would gladly live in one room, make the floor my bed, a box my chair, another my table, rather than the heathen should perish for the lack of knowledge of Jesus Christ.”

Maybe this influenced his style of life.

As for his links with Teignmouth I have found one reference, in “Olive Trees”, a monthly journal of the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America:

His life in his Teignmouth retreat was cleaner, if humbler, for on arriving be inquired of an old boatman for lodgings.  The boatman, seeing an aged man of poverty-stricken appearance, offered him quarters in his own house. And there Robert Arthington ended his days among kindly people, who had no suspicion of his fabulous wealth.

Press reports at the time of his death suggest that his health had been failing and he moved to Teignmouth for that reason in 1896.  There was a small personal bequest in his Will to Mr & Mrs Bennett, with whom he lodged, and a suggestion that the bequest be given to their daughter.  Was Mr Bennett that boatman?

However he came to be in Teignmouth we know that Robert Arthington died on 9 October 1900. In his deathbed, he requested to have read to him the Sermon on the Mount and Psalm 72. After the reading, he said, “Yes, it is all there – all!

His works and beliefs

When informed once of the size of his fortune he replied “No man has a right to so much money”.  His subsequent generosity can perhaps be attributed to the teachings of his mother who believed “a man should do his duty to his fellow creature”.

Arthington was a “premillennialist” who believed that when the unevangelized had heard the gospel, Christ would return. Acting upon this belief, he devoted his time and fortune to those parts of the world where the gospel had not been heard.

In October 1886, Arthington wrote a letter to all the missionary societies of Europe and America, pleading with them to “lose no time” in dividing up the world for the preaching of the gospel. His letter begins:

“It may be assumed that all real Christians would rejoice in heart if every living person was a Christian indeed. But do we indeed expect that more than a few comparatively, in any one locality, will ever be real Christians? Look to the Scriptures and to secular history for the answer. Of course, as seen at the last, the saved are an innumerable multitude, coming out of every nation and tribe.” (Missionary Review, January 1887:18)

Arthington continued by suggesting that if the world were divided up, success would be sure – nothing would be lost by trying, which is what he did.

A selection of the works supported by Arthington’s philanthropy during his lifetime include:

  • In 1859 he informed the London Missionary Society:

.. to assist to [sic] the accomplishment of my anxiously cherished desire for the evangelization of the Deccan — that is the distinct publication of the Gospel throughout it – I have resolved to invest money in the extension lines of the Great Indian Peninsula Railway Comp. knowing that the railway is the great means of spreading news, and so this the best of all news the glad tidings of the Gospel. At the same time I have in view the developement [sic] of the resources of India as they concern especially the production of cotton, so as to counteract American Slavery. The Railway once extensively existing all over India, people will, I anticipate confidently, travel into the parts adjoining those to which it facilitates the entrance, and tracts Gospels etc. will be more widely and largely distributed and disseminated.

  • Boys at Arthington House 1880

    In 1868 he financed the voyage of fifteen families of freed American slaves from South Carolina and Georgia to Liberia where they settled in the new town he established, later named Arthington.  In agreeing to the finance he instructed the American Colonisation Society (ACS) to establish an inland settlement “consisting as much as possible of men of Missionary spirit and deeply and prayerfully interested in the moral redemption of all Africa”.  He insisted “We must have universal elementary education in Liberia” and reminded the ACS:

I am set for the redemption – the deliverance from the curse of slavery and the evangelisation of Africa”.

His passionate anti-slavery beliefs are also evidenced in his correspondence with William Lloyd Garrison, prominent American abolitionist, journalist, suffragist, and social reformer who was one of the founders of the American Anti-Slavery Society, and promoted “immediate emancipation” of slaves in the United States.

In 1869 Queen Victoria appointed Robert Arthington as the Consul at Leeds for the republic of Liberia.

  • Launch of the Congo Mission in 1877
  • Believed to be the same steamer Peace on the Congo river

    Purchase of the steamer Peace in 1880 to advance the mission up the Congo river.  Built by Thornycroft at Chiswick, it was constructed to draw only eighteen inches when carrying six tons of cargo, and to take to pieces at the cataracts.

    Some interesting features were described in the Press at the time:

    ”engines of sufficient power to steam 12½ knots so as to escape from any attack of hostile native canoes ….” (Poole & Dorset Herald)

    ”a wire awning is fitted to stop the arrows and missiles, which there is every reason to anticipate will be shot or hurled at the passengers in some regions of the Congo ….” (North Devon Journal).

Getting the steamer to her ultimate destination would not be a trivial task:

She will be taken to pieces and sent to the mouth of the Congo.  From thence it will be borne by 800 men a distance of 300 miles up to Stanley Pool, where the steamer will be reconstructed by missionaries”

  • In 1886, or thereabouts, he supported the missionary work of John Ross in Korea by paying for the publication of the Korean New Testament which Ross had translated.  Ross was known as the father of Protestant churches in Manchuria and Korea.
  • Establishment of the Arthington Aborigines Mission in 1889 for the evangelisation of tribal people (reputedly “fierce headhunters”!) in northeast India.  This included formal education of the Mizos and documentation of their language.  Arthington himself reached Mizoram on 11thJanuary 1894 which is now a public holiday known as “Missionary Day” in Mizoram.
  • Extension of mission funds in 1892 to reach the Upper Nile
  • Central America Expedition

    1894-1896 he financed the Arthington Exploration, led by H C Dillon, in Central America whose purpose was “to gather information on the Indian population toward the objective of reaching these people with the Gospel.”

  • He contributed to advance missionary work in China
  • He paid for the construction of a steamer built in America to be used in South America
  • Continued support to the Leeds Hospital for Women and Children throughout his lifetime (in recognition of his charity a new hospital he financed at Cookridge and which opened in 1905 was named the Robert Arthington Hospital).

Not surprisingly he had dealings with both Livingstone and Stanley during his funding of missionary works in Africa. However, he was very clear about supporting work that was directly relevant to his evangelism. So when Stanley wrote to him in 1887 to ask for the use of the SS Peace in his rescue expedition of Emin Pasha he got short shrift:

Leeds January 15th 1887
Dear Mr Stanley, I have much regard for you personally although I can not, dare not, sanction all your acts.  I am very sorry if I cannot give assent to your request, but I fully believe you will be no sufferer by the circumstance of not having the SS Peace.  Yesterday I was able to come to a decision.  Mr Baynes, of the Baptist Missionary Society, Holborn, will, he hopes, make you any communication he judges proper.  If you have any reverential regard for the “Man of Sorrows”, “the King of Peace”, may He mercifully preserve and save your party.  I have no doubt of the safety of Emin, till his work is done.  I believe he will be brought through his trial in perfect safety.  God seems to have given you a noble soul (covers for the moment, if on your sad sin and mistakes), and I should like you should “repent and believe the Gospel” with real sense and live hereafter in happiness, light and joy for ever.  Here delay in you is more dangerous than delay for Emin. Your faithful friend, Robert Arthington”

After his death

On 9 June 1900 he prepared his last will and testament in which he bequeathed a major portion of his estate to Christian missions, and only one-tenth of it to his first cousins, or if they were deceased, to their children.

To put his will into perspective, the Leeds Times of 22 December 1900 reported:

“The charitable bequests of Mr Robert Arthington will make the present year a record one in respect of the amounts given to charity.  A million and a half of money has already been bequeathed to charity this year and, with Mr Arthington’s bequest, the amount will be nearly two millions and a half.”

His will was poorly drafted though and it took five years for it to be approved by the High Court of Chancery in 1905. Because of outstanding claims from the family it was another five years before the actual distribution of the estate took place.  By then the monetary value had risen to £1,273,894.  After 21 cousins received their share and other miscellaneous charitable requests the balance of almost £1 million was divided (5:4) between the Baptist Missionary Society (BMS) and the London Missionary Society (LMS).

This became know as ‘Arthington’s million’ and helped to provide hospitals and schools as well as missions in remote areas in India and Africa, some of them still in existence today.  The bequest was to be used within twenty-five years.  Alfred Henry Baynes, the General Secretary of BMS, became the trustee until his death in 1914. He fervently pursued evangelisation of Africa, which had been the pre-dominant interest of Robert Arthington. The LMS on the other hand extended their mission to China and India, in addition to Africa.  The Trust disbanded in 1936.

In his Will he also left small bequests to other beneficiaries amongst which was £100 to Teignmouth hospital.


This has been a revealing journey and the above only scratches the surface of Robert Arthington’s life. There is probably enough material around to write a book on the impact that his work achieved.  He was certainly a remarkable man, possibly the most significant British philanthropist at the time of his death.  It was probably because of his strong religious faith and principles, starting from his Quaker roots and subsequent conversion to Baptism, that his philanthropy was focussed on evangelical activities.  I would venture though that it goes back further to his mother who believed a man should ‘Do his duty to his fellow creature‘.

Whilst his type of evangelism may seem quaint or strange (or out-of-place) to us these days I think that Robert Arthington undoubtedly believed that it was his path, his way to “do his duty” with the resources that had been made available to him.  He had the nous to realise though that evangelism wasn’t simply about sending out a missionary with a bible; it required the logistics behind it.  So if we look at his endowments we see that much of the money was spent on the infrastructure behind evangelism – boats, railways, missions, schools and education, hospitals, settlements.  When he died he made provision for that to continue for a further 25 years.  Maybe that’s what he meant when he said on his deathbed “Yes, it is all there – all!”


There are literally hundreds, if not thousands, of newspaper articles about Robert Arthington – before his death in relation to the various endowments he made and projects he supported; and after his death concerning his Will and the subsequent activities supported through the Arthington Trust.  They can not all be mentioned here.

The above story is a compilation from a number of other sources which are often repetitive; unless otherwise stated in the text, I haven’t referenced them individually in connection with separate facts or statements.  So this is simply a list of other sources I have looked at, all on-line.  All reference links are correct as at the time of posting.

The Angus Library and Archive …..

Arthington Development Organisation …..

The Baptist Bible Tribune 1 …..

The Baptist Bible Tribune 2 …..

Camino Global – 100 and Counting …..

Council for World Mission – London Missionary Society Archive …..

Digital Commonwealth Massachusetts Collections …..

The Free Library – The Legacy of John Ross …..

George Grenfell and the Congo …..

Grenfell Family History …..

Grey River Argus 1910 – An Eccentric Miser …..

Independent Baptist Argentina …..

International Bulletin of Missionary Research …..

Kuki International Forum …..

Leodis Photographic Archive of Leeds  …..

Mission Frontiers …..

Mundus Gateway to Missionary Collections …..

North Carolina Slave – The Journey of Nancy Askie …..

Olive Trees 1901 – Presbyterian Archives …..

The Price of Liberty – African Americans and the Making of Liberia, Claude A Cleg III …..

Quora – Seven sisters …..

The Thoresby Society …..

Trekkers n Trotters – Gracious Mizoram …..

United Methodist Conference 1912 …..

University of Edinburgh – Commerce and Christianity article …..

Wikipedia …..




Maurice Mortimore

As an interesting by-product of all this work we have been doing on the war graves we have come across a number of other graves of people who have died in service but who are not in official Commonwealth War Grave Commission sites.  There are also others, non-military, who died during particularly the Second World War as a result of enemy action.

We are clearing those graves as well and affording them the same respect of attention that has been given to the official graves.

One of those graves is that of Maurice Louis Charles Mortimore.

Maurice was a fireman during WW2 and was killed during a bombing raid on the town. Little is known about the exact circumstances of his death other than that the building he was in suffered a direct hit; he apparently made it out alive but died subsequently in hospital.


After this year’s remembrance service I had the privilege to meet with his daughter, Vivien Roworth, who was 9 months old when he died. Vivien had discovered his unmarked grave some years ago in the wilderness that was the cemetery and had erected a headstone in his memory.

I had received an earlier email from Vivien from which I would like to quote:

I can’t begin to tell you how pleased I am to know that the Teignmouth War Graves are now in such enthusiastic and caring hands.  A few years ago I contacted Teignbridge and the Teignmouth Post, as it was so distressing to see the unkempt graves of the war dead.  I had to search for them in thigh-height grass.  Since I retired, I have been visiting Teignmouth (from the Isle of Man) annually to see my father’s grave and place a poppy wreath for him, around the 11th of November.  I also visit other family graves at the same time.

My father was the only fireman to be killed, in Teignmouth, in WW2 and he has a headstone which I think he deserved for his efforts in the Plymouth and Exeter Blitzes in 1941 and 1942, and in memoriam, of course.  His name was Maurice Louis Charles Mortimore.  Also, I have an uncle who is on your list of war dead.  He was Edward Palmer and I always place flowers on his grave and that of my aunt and grandmother who are buried in the same grave with him.

Although Maurice was originally buried in an unmarked grave he has been commemorated elsewhere as well:

He is listed on the Roll of Honour Board of what is now Devon and Somerset Fire and Rescue Service near Exeter

He is also listed on amongst the casualties of the bombings of Teignmouth:

RAID OF 13 AUGUST 1942 (Albion Place, Park St. and Barnpark) – Fourteen killed, ten severely injured and thirty two injured.

MAURICE LOUIS CHARLES MORTIMORE: Civilian Fireman, N.F.S. Husband of Marion Eleanor Mortimore, of Sunny Crest, Bitton Hill, Teignmouth. Injured 13 August 1942, at Market Place; died at Teignmouth Hospital 14 Aug 1942 aged 26”


Finally, he is remembered in a dedication at the Town Council offices in Bitton House, Teignmouth.  In the foyer is a large brass bell, a photograph of Maurice and the following dedication:

Bell from the last Pump Escape
owned by the Teignmouth Urban District Council
before the creation of the National Fire Service.

Presented by the Devon County Council in 1960

Dedicated to the memory of

Fireman Maurice Louis Charles Mortimore
who lost his life by enemy action
when the Town Hall and Fire Station were destroyed on 13
th August, 1942”

Maurice Louis Charles Mortimore