Blog

George Noble, art student and conscientious objector in WW1.

 

Some years ago a friend was visiting his parents in Nottingham when he noticed a neighbor throwing out an old art portfolio – the sketches were dated from 1909 to 1916 – which she said was the work of her uncle. He had been an art student at Leicester School of Art. My friend, also an artist, liked the sketches and asked if he could have them, rather than them being thrown away.

About a week ago he posted some of the sketches on Facebook and pondered the fate of this young artist in World War I. There was no other information to go on other than “G. Noble” and the knowledge that he had been an art student in Leicester around 1910 – 1916.

George Noble courtesy of Ben Morris

(Photo courtesy of Ben Morris)

He contacted the De Montfort school in Leicester (previously the Leicester Municipal Technical and Art School) to discover more about the artist. The school had little to go on but was able to provide Ben with a ledger entry showing that the student was George Noble and that he paid his student fees in 1913. They also provided a small but significant piece of information (from an unidentified source) that opened up the story of George Noble and highlighted a significant group of men in World War I  – the conscientious objectors. Along with another of Ben’s friends, I went through British records from that period and was able to piece together some more of George’s life and what happened to him during the war.

George Noble was born in Hawick in Scotland on 19 May 1885 to Thomas and Jessie Noble. His father Thomas was a hosiery framesmith – someone who knew how to set up and repair the wooden knitting frames used to make stockings. Hawick had a long tradition at the heart of the textile industry. By the time the 1891 census was taken, the family had moved to Leicester, a city in the “Midlands” in England. Thomas was now described as an “engine fitter”. Thomas had been born in Hawick but his father was from Leicester. Perhaps they moved there for better job opportunities and to be closer to family.

In 1901 Thomas Noble’s occupation was clarified as “steam engine fitter” in the census. He presumably constructed, repaired and made replacement parts for steam engines. Son George, now aged 14, was listed as an “apprentice mechanical draftsman”.

By the 1911 UK census George was 25 and still living with his parents and siblings in Leicester, where his occupation was marked as “engineer’s draftsman.

George may have been studying part-time at art school as he probably had a full-time job.

In 1914 World War I started. The UK introduced military conscription in 1916 due to dwindling volunteer forces. Males aged between 18 and 41 had to sign up for service, unless they could already prove they were doing important work. Certain occupations were exempt from active service, including teachers and clergymen. Alongside this exemption, an important right had been built into the Conscription Act. Men had the right to object to conscription on moral or religious grounds.

16000 men tried to claim exemption. George Noble was one of them. The archivist at De Montford was able to provide the following snippet on George Noble:

George Noble…art student, not clear whether he appeared before the Leicester tribunal or in London, but was apparently allowed only an exemption from combatant military service, so was called up to the NCC (Non-combative corp), 6 Northern company, Leicester…

On 29 March 1916 Noble was called before one of the tribunals set up for COs to explain their reasons for seeking an exemption from active service. The tribunal panels were made up of local civilians with an army representative, and may not have been given adequate training or instruction about the task of vetting conscientious objectors. Noble may also have been an “absolutist” – a CO who would not work in any part of the military even if it did not involve combat. Having been granted an exemption from combat, he refused to take up his position in the NCC. He would not have seen combat in this corp, but would have had to wear uniform and be under army regulations. As a result of his disobedience, part of his army record goes on to show that he was arrested and tried at a court martial in Leicester on the 9th of August 2016. Here he was sentenced to 84 days imprisonment “for disobeying a lawful command given by his superior officer.”

Although the harshest sentence that could be meted out by court martial was death by firing squad, there is no evidence that any COs were killed.  Several received this sentence but had it commuted. Most conscientious objectors were sent to civil rather than military prisons. George Noble was sent Welford Road prison in Leicester for part of his detention. His sentence was commuted to 28 days, possibly for “good behaviour”. However he was still considered a conscript and would have to make a decision to either continue with the “cat and mouse” cycle of imprisonment that COs often endured, or compromise somehow.

It seems he did choose a compromise rather than return to prison. Several thousand fit young men had been imprisoned in 1916 for refusing to serve. Parliament introduced a scheme that it hoped would help divert some of these men from prison under what was termed “the Home Office Scheme”. Essentially the scheme was a number of work camps with hard labor considered to be “of national importance.” Often this was road building, agricultural labor or menial hospital work. The scheme allowed the men to wear civilian clothing and even to leave the camp for the occasional night out or day off. According to the information from the archives, George Noble accepted a transfer to a camp at Llanddeusant Water Works in Llangadock, South Wales. Around 200 COs worked there constructing the water works at Llyn Y Fan Fach, Carmarthenshire, to bring a clean water supply to Llanelli. Not a lot has been documented about this particular scheme, and much of the documentation was destroyed after the end of the war. A black and white picture posted on the site of a local archaeology group may show some of the COs in a group shot. They are dressed in “civvies” and flat caps for the most part, armed with only shovels, rakes and sledgehammers. Some of these men possibly stayed with local families for the duration of their “service”. The water works were constructed at over 1600 feet above sea level. The winter weather in particular was likely cold and very wet. Most men who worked on the schemes remained there until April 1919, when all but a few were released.

Without knowing anything more about Noble’s life, we can only wonder about the impact his moral choices had on the rest of his family. Some families were openly scorned and shunned for having a son who refused to go to the front. From other army records we know that George’s younger brother William served in the Post Office Rifles for 2 years before being discharged in 1918 and no longer considered fit for active service. The reason given was “defective vision”. It’s not clear from William’s scrawled, faded army record if he saw active service with this brigade, although it is know that the Post Office Rifles served at both the Battle of the Somme and Ypres. So the Nobles had one son in service and one in prison. Who knows if they supported one but not the other?

Some COs found it hard to secure employment after the war. The only other online record available for George Noble is from the 1939 “register”, a census-like “snapshot” of the adult population of England and Wales taken at the outbreak of WW II. George Noble was living in Leicester with his sister and his mother and was described as a “commercial artist (advertising and printing)”.  It seems he was able to continue making a living through art. Ben was told that the Victoria and Albert Museum in London has a poster in its archive designed by him.

The stories of Conscientious Objectors and other opponents of war are now being cataloged by the CO project run by the Peace Pledge Union in the UK.

You can also read more about how COs were treated on the Imperial War Museum website.

http://www.iwm.org.uk/history/conscientious-objectors-in-their-own-words

Thanks to Ben Morris for allowing me to use one of his photographs of the Noble portfolio. And thanks for saving the portfolio!

 

Till a’ the seas gang dry…G.E.S. 1942 – 2017.

In February of this year my father-in-law died. He was unique – a hard worker from a working-class family, he bucked expectations and made it into grammar school.  He was an avid reader and poetry lover, not to mention a real romantic. He also became a savvy businessman, an innovator and inventor who made a successful career in the nascent electronics industry at the beginning of the 1970s and subsequently lived all over the world. By the end of his life he had lived more years away from Scotland than in it. But he never lost his love of the country or the area where he was born. He once told me, when I dared to say that my favourite part of Scotland was the Highlands, “Well you’ve clearly never seen the Solway Firth.”

Rockcliff Solway Firth July 2017

(A view from Rockcliffe over the Solway Firth, with typical Scottish summer weather).

In death as in life, my father-in-law continues to travel. His ashes were brought back from Hong Kong, where he had lived for at least the past 35 years, to the US. Cultural differences meant that his Cantonese wife did not want to keep the ashes. They were couriered to San Francisco until his sons could decide how or where to best memorialize him. For a man who lived in the US, Bermuda, Scotland, England and traveled to many other destinations, it wasn’t going to be easy.

With an impending trip to Scotland, I decided that we should take some of the ashes with us and scatter them near his birthplace. Airlines have strict policies around the transportation of cremains, and I realized I wasn’t going to be able to adhere to any of them in the short period of time before we flew. Policies include having the ashes in an approved container, being able to show the appropriate paperwork and placing the ashes in your carry-on luggage. As I didn’t have all of the paperwork (somehow the death certificate had not accompanied the ashes on their travels) I decided to try and circumvent the restrictions as respectfully as I could. I ended up on my knees in the garage, transferring spoonfuls of ashes from the travel container into a ziplock bag. I placed the ziplock bag in a screw-top plastic tub and put it in my hold luggage.

My luggage, my family and the container flew across the US and spent several nights in upstate New York before catching a separate flight to Scotland. Neither the US carrier nor the budget European airline that took us from NY to Scotland were any the wiser that I had flouted their rules.

Several sleeps and one long car drive later and we were standing on the shores of the Solway Firth conducting an impromptu ceremony to scatter a share of my father-in-law’s ashes in the land of his forefathers.

This area of Scotland was meaningful to his family for many reasons. Not only was it where he was born, but most of his family lived no more than a hundred miles from Castle Douglas, where he grew up. So far I have traced as far back as maternal 5th great-grandparents to this area. His love of Robert Burns’ poetry was likely fanned by its proximity to two Burns residences  – the Burns house in Dumfries and Ellisland Farm . Connections to Burns oozed from every possible corner. The country house hotel we were staying at, an elegant house built in 1752, had featured Robert Burns as a guest of the original owner. (Suffice to say that Burns may not have been invited back after writing a somewhat insulting poem about the owner’s wife). The location that we had eventually chosen to scatter the ashes proved serendipitous too. Picking a spot to scatter ashes is not easy when there have been no advance instructions given by the deceased.  We had aborted the event at a  previous site the day before due to disgusting weather – heavy rain and wind that would most likely have thrown cremains back at us as soon as we relinquished our grasp on them. The village of Rockcliffe had been recommended to us as a more sheltered, rocky bay right on the Solway Firth.  As I had looked at the map I had seen place names that meant something to me, the chief researcher of family history. Colvend, Barcloy Mill – I had to go back to the Stevenson family tree to confirm what I thought – that Rockcliffe beach was a stone’s throw from some of the places where one of the family lines had lived.

His maternal grandmother, Mary Jane McKay, was born at Colvend in 1887, as were many of her siblings before and after. The graveyard near Colvend had a headstone (below) with several family names on it, including his great-great grandfather John McKay, who died nearby in 1902.

John McKay headston Colvend cemetery

It’s likely that my father-in-law would have had a lot to say about the notion of scattering ashes, the choice of location and what was the best thing to do. But the fact is that he chose not to leave any directions for his death, and so those closest to him had to find a way to do something meaningful. My husband wanted one of us to recite a Burn’s poem but we couldn’t settle on one. Eventually we went for “My love is like a red, red, rose”, which I sang, competing with the blustery wind as the ashes were sprinkled into the clear water. A simple love song for the big man with the big heart.

Oh my love is like a red, red rose,

That’s newly sprung in June

Oh my love is like a melody

That’s sweetly played in tune

As fair art thou, my bonnie lad,

So deep in love am I,

And I will love thee still my dear,

Till a’ the seas gang dry.

 

Wintering the bees in Osnaburgh.

Skeps, boles and the Dairsie Manse.

I knew that the house we were going to stay in had not always been a dwelling. Situated just outside the village of Dairsie in Fife, it was a renovated out-building behind the original manse. (A manse was the house provided for the local minister and his family). It was a solid stone-built edifice crouching next to a rippling field of ripening, bearded barley.  The landscape has probably changed little since the 1800s.

The village of Dairsie  is shown on several maps as “Dairsie or Osnaburgh” and the navigation in the car we hired also gave us the choice of going to one or the other even –  though they are essentially the same place. I was born and brought up in Fife but could not recall why this tiny village – no more than a small grocery store, a pub and a few original stone houses – had a mysterious extra name.

Screenshot 2017-08-02 at 9.34.38 AM.png

Ordnance Survey map showing the dual names “Dairsie or Osnaburgh”. The Manse is marked towards the bottom left.

I did some “light” research on the origins of the name “Osnaburgh”. A similarly named town in Lower Saxony, Germany, called Osnabruck had given its name to a course linen fabric woven there. Internet stories centered around the suggestion that the first inhabitants of Osnaburgh/Dairsie were German immigrants who manufactured the same cloth. In the 1850s the name was noted in the Ordnance Survey book of place names with the following explanation:

“This village is also called Osnaburgh, from the circumstances that the first house in the village being occupied by a weaver who was working for some Cupar manufacturers a type of cloth called Osnaburgh cloth. The Rev. Mr Scott says that for the one letter directed to Osnaburgh there are fifty directed Dairsiemuir. He emphatically states that Dairsiemuir is the proper name. “*

The Rev Scott along with the schoolteacher and the local postmaster all concurred.  It’s likely that “Dairsiemuir” was a “planned” village, with houses built specifically to house hand-loom weavers so this explanation fits well with the history of the location.

The Rev. Mr Scott who gave this affidavit was the parish minister living in the Dairsie Manse in the 1850s. Unlike many of his parishioners, who had to cram a large family and a loom into two rooms, the Rev Scott lived palatially just outside the village. The Ordnance Survey book also describes the Manse:

“A neat and well-constructed house two stories high with suitable offices, vegetable garden and 6 acres Glebe land.”**

In 1861 the Reverend Scott was 59 years old, according to that year’s census. His wife was considerably younger and they had a one-year-old child – suggesting either that the Rev. had married late in life or that perhaps this was his second marriage.

The Manse was reached up an elegant driveway bridging a small stream. There was a very large walled garden to the left as we entered, and our house, the “Bee House”, was a short distance behind.

The current owners of the Manse had chosen this name based on the building’s former use as a place for “wintering” bees. Behind the wood-burning stove in what was now an elegant living space, there was a series of small square cubbies called “boles”. A “bole” in Scots is an alcove in a wall. Each bole was big enough to hold a wicker “skep” – a domed basket used in bee-keeping to encourage a hive. The skeps containing bees would be brought inside in winter to ensure the colony’s survival.

IMG_0618

A wicker skep in a bole.

Bees had to go outside to keep the hive alive, so in one corner of the original building there was a hole in the considerably thick wall. This was the bee escape route. The current owners kept the feature during the renovation.

IMG_0620

The bee “escape” route  set high in the wall.

Having never heard of bee boles or skeps before, I did some more “light” research and discovered that there is a whole organisation devoted to the preservation of boles. They have documented many of these in the bee bole registry! The boles in this house were included along with a photograph of how they looked pre-renovation.  You can view it here.Dairsie kitchen window barley

The unspoilt view from the kitchen window of the Bee House to the field of barley and beyond.

 

*Note that the name “Dairsiemuir” seems to have fallen into obscurity too. “Muir” is a common Scottish word tagged on to many place names, meaning “moorland”. It is also a common surname.

**Glebe land was a parcel of land that came with the manse used to support the minister of the parish, possible through farming use.

Photo comparisons in search of relationships.

Photo comparison is neither a science nor an assured way of confirming relatedness. We see what we want to see when comparing photographs in search of a likeness. But it’s fun to do all the same, with the appropriate caveats. Biological children can be the “spit” of their parents or it can be hard to find any resemblance. Children may look more like their aunts, uncle or grandparents until they grow into their features as adults. Different people will see very different things.

I wanted to create a “line-up” of the Stevenson brothers of Barrhill with some of their descendants at the same sort of age although this is proving hard to do. As yet I have not been able to track down a picture of Mabel Earley in any stage of her life. I seem to have become the default keeper of all of the family photos from the Stevenson side but there are very few. I suspect that with some digging I could find some photos of Mabel by contacting descendants of her second son, Willy Watson. That family lived in the tiny hamlet of Sorbie, Wigtownshire. This corner of south-west Scotland was home to weavers – damask weavers in this case – and the main street of the town consisted mainly of low single-storey weavers’ cottages. Many parts of the south west of Scotland seem to be like the land that time forgot – there is a sense of tranquillity and stability in the air, a contentedness with the way things are. The photographs of Sorbie “then and now” illustrate that to perfection – the main street has barely changed since 1890.

(The same row of houses in Sorbie main street, 1890 and today).

Yesterday at lunch our elderly relative handed over a packet of old photographs of the family (unfortunately none of Mabel). All of them were black and white. We paused over one, my husband’s father in the grammar school rugby team in his teens, and wondered what colour the rugby shirt might have been. “Uncle” Jim said he couldn’t remember, but remarked that everything looked better in black and white, and that some people around here still have black and white television sets. Jim does not have any internet, probably hasn’t used a computer ever and I doubt whether he has a cellphone. He is a happy 90 year-old , in reasonable health, still driving, going bowling (lawn bowls, not 10-pin)  and enjoying a pint of Boddington’s Bitter now and again.

The photos were fabulous, a joy to have . There were several of my father-in-law as a young man, and a few of him as young as 7 or 8 in a boy scout troup. So from that I have been able to add another young face to the Barrhill Stevenson lineup. One of these faces was his grandfather and the other were great-uncles. Again, photo comparison is for fun and is pure speculation. But here they are.

The four Stevenson brothers of Barrhill – John, William, James, David.

 

IMG_0653 (1)

My father-in-law aged about 13, taken at school at Castle Douglas in Dumfriesshire – he is the grandson of one of the above.

And my husband and his brother, sons of the above, taken in “new-fangled colour”, also in Castle Douglas, around 1972?

Doug Bob cowboy crop 2

 

John, William, James or David?

Searching for more documentary evidence.

 

Mugshots from Barrhill – the four Stevenson brothers from the surviving family photograph. You can find the previous parts of this story here and here.

Right time, right place?

Mabel’s son, (my husband’s grandfather) was born on 21 December 1908, a few months after Mabel’s 20th birthday. Assuming that this was a full-term pregnancy, conception would have taken place around the middle of March 1908. As Mabel had been working as a maid in a country house near Barrhill, it seems fair to assume that she met the father of her child there. When there is not much else to go on, we have to hypothesize.

In March of 1908, John Stevenson was 22. His brother William was 19. James was 17 and David, the youngest, was just a few months past his 16th birthday. There’s nothing conclusive we can draw from any of this. I was more interested in trying to prove where they were living around this time. Cousin L from 23andMe had mentioned that the brothers all went to New Zealand. So, was it possible that some of the brothers could be eliminated by proving they left for New Zealand before 1908?

I couldn’t find any of them recorded as passengers on the available ships’ manifests for voyages from the UK to Australia or New Zealand. But by cross-referencing information about the family on Ancestry.com with searchable death records at http://www.govt.nz, I was able to locate death records for three of them. John, William and David had all died in New Zealand according to the index. The NZ government website told me that one of the pieces of information listed on the death certificates should be the number of years that person had lived there. I applied for the certificates online and waited to have them emailed to me.

The death certificates yielded the following information:

  • David Maxwell Stevenson died in 1965 and had been living in New Zealand for 54 years. This meant his approximate year of arrival was 1911.
  • William Stevenson, “retired dairy farmer”, died there in 1963 after living there for 51 years. So he arrived there around 1912.

The death certificate for John Stevenson was difficult to read. He died in 1918 when he was only 33. He had been married for a year at the time of his death. The figure in the “number of years” column is unclear – it could be a one or it could be a nine. As he had married the previous year, and records seemed to indicate that he met his wife there rather than traveling to New Zealand with her, I went with “9”.

These dates didn’t help eliminate any of the brothers as the father of Mabel’s child.

James Stevenson was nowhere to be found in the New Zealand records.  Nor was he in the 1911 Scottish census, at least locally to Barrhill. Unfortunately a wider search of the same census revealed hundreds of young men by the name of James Stevenson. My feeling is that he may not have gone there, but at this point it is just not clear where he went.

A new family member

A few weeks ago we got another match on Ancestry, connecting my husband to this same family of Stevensons. Looking at this person’s tree, I can see that she is a direct descendant of David Stevenson. I’m hoping that if I ask her the right questions, she may have some answers that will help sort out this paternity mystery.

The Stevensons of Barrhill – the DNA connection.

 

Why is DNA useful when searching for relatives?

DNA is a very new tool in genealogical research. Previously family trees could be assembled through a combination of personal experience and family knowledge; documents and records. Even with a plethora of documents, gaps in a family tree can be left unfilled. In research terms these are called “brick walls”.  

DNA testing for genealogical purposes has become increasingly popular in the US over the past few years. At the beginning of 2017 Ancestry DNA announced that it had broken the 4 million mark of testers in its database. Many people initially test because of interest in and “ethnicity estimate” – a breakdown of where your ancestors may have originated hundreds of years ago. Ethnicity estimates are still being refined and are not always accurate. On the other hand, a positive match to someone who is a DNA relative within a database such as Ancestry.com or 23andMe.com can benefit genealogical research in the following ways:

  • verify existing research
  • establish that two surname variants are related
  • provide locations for further genealogical research
  • help determine the ancestral homeland
  • discover living relatives
  • confirm or deny suspected connections between families
  • prove or disprove theories regarding ancestry

(List courtesy of the International Society of Genetic Genealogy, https://isogg.org/wiki/Genetic_genealogy).

The 23andMe test

As a genealogist using DNA testing as a tool, it helps to have testers in as many databases as possible. My husband’s DNA is currently in 3 major databases. Each company has a different name for DNA matches. At 23andMe they are called “DNA relatives”.

So what are DNA relatives?

Testing companies basically do the science part for you. In simple terms, here is how 23andMe explains the comparison of DNA for finding relatives:

“When two people share identical segments of DNA, this indicates that they share a recent common ancestor. The length and number of these identical segments is used to predict the relationship between relatives.”

The term “Most recent common ancestor(s)” is used a lot in genetic genealogy and is often abbreviated to MRCA. The types of relationship that we share with most people who are our DNA relatives (other than close family) will be cousinship of some degree. There are many charts available to explain cousinship and the MRCA. Put simply, it works like this:

If you are…… Then your MRCA(s) are…
First cousins Grandparents
Second cousins Great-grandparents
Third cousins Great-great-grandparents


There are other variables to consider, such as half cousins, cousins “removed” once, twice or three times, but I have stuck to the simplest form for now. The testing company compares your “autosomal” DNA (taken from markers along the first 22 chromosomes) to that of everyone else in their database. Areas where your DNA is the same as another person’s are classified as matches. Autosomal DNA matches can be as close as parent/child or as distant as 6th, 7th or 8th cousin. The “size” of the match given indicates the closeness of the relationship. The larger the match, the closer the relationship.

So a few months ago on 23andMe, we got a match with a predicted relationship of third cousin to my husband’s kit. The match had overlapping shared DNA segments on chromosomes 11, 17 and 18. The largest segment was on chromosome 18, an overlap of 66cMs (CentiMorgans, a unit to measure genetic linkage). Totalled with the other segments, the resulting shared match was 109cMs which is in the third cousin range. Cousin L, as we shall call her,  was also a match for my brother-in-law and his three teenage children, who had also been tested on 23andMe.

23andme chr 18 stevensons and mcNeill

(23andMe Stevensons/”Cousin L”) Chromosome 18 from husband’s DNA “chromosome browser” at 23andMe. Very pretty, but what is it actually telling us?

“Cousin L” had a list of ancestral birthplaces that included Barrhill. This was already interesting. A potential match of a third cousin would mean that husband “D” and “Cousin L” shared a great-great grandparent, exactly what we would be looking for if Cousin L was a descendant of a sibling of D’s great-grandfather.

23andMe then gives you the facility to contact DNA matches and ask them if they would like to explore how you may be related. Many people don’t respond – part of the issue being that a lot of the early testers at 23andMe were only in it for the health and traits report, and were/are still not interested in DNA relative matching. That is slowly changing. Luckily cousin L was very open and chatty about the potential connection. Here is the extract from her reply that gave us hope:

  • “I know we are related to Stevensons in Barrhill. My great grandmother in Barrhill was part of that family. There were 4 brothers too.”

Over a series of emails, Cousin L told us the story of her Stevenson ancestors in Barrhill. Could DNA tell us which brother was our family’s direct ancestor? Which one of these four was the great-grandfather of these two cowboys from the 1970s?

Doug Bob cowboy crop 2

Who’s your great-granddaddy? John, William, James or David?

(The top photograph from around 1971 was taken around 50 miles away from the family portrait that the “mugshots” are lifted from. The Stevenson family portrait was probably taken around 1905, judging by the ages of the children.)

Meet the family.

 

(for the first part of this story, see previous blog post here

Drumlamford House, Barrhill, Ayrshire

According to her baby’s birth certificate, Mabel had been working as a housemaid in a large country house called Drumlamford, in Barrhill, Ayrshire, before becoming pregnant.

I haven’t been able to find much information about Drumlamford around the turn of the century. It was a large scale although somewhat plain-looking house set in 1500 acres of land. The Valuation Rolls (register of property tax) of 1908 and the census of 1911 both indicate that the estate was used for typical Edwardian country pursuits – several gamekeepers are listed living on the estate as well as dairy workers, grooms, coachmen, housekeepers, housemaids and a chauffeur. There were several trout-stocked lochs for fishing. Mabel’s father, George Earley, worked as a coachman on the estate, and had occupancy of a tied house called Drumlamford Cottage.

Drumlamford House, Barrhill

A housemaid’s job was tough enough. An unmarried, pregnant housemaid may not have been tolerated and it’s possible that Mabel lost her job or was unable to continue working as her pregnancy progressed. Her mother was dead and her father had remarried several years before. Presumably there was no offer “to do the right thing”; or perhaps she rejected it. Her expectations, fears and state of mind can only be guessed at. She travelled to London at some point in her pregnancy and gave birth there; I hope to visit the London Metropolitan Archives this summer and get access to the patient registers for the Queen Charlotte Hospital. Perhaps they will shed a little more light on her confinement.

After the birth (again, we don’t know when), Mabel entered domestic service as a cook in London. Somehow she survived. Her son was taken care of and eventually she took him back to Scotland.*

The Stevenson brothers of Barrhill

So who was the father? Living family members never spoke of who he was. When I began to “unravel” this mystery it was clear that no-one still living knew his name. Trust a genealogist to air the dirty laundry!

There were a few clues to his identity:

  • Mabel’s son was given the surname “Earley” – her family name.
  • By the time he got married in 1935 he had changed his name to “Stevenson, formerly Earley”. (Although Mabel had married by this time, her husband’s last name was Watson).
  • He was probably from Barrhill, Ayrshire.*

Screenshot 2017-04-26 at 12.58.32 PM

(Excert from marriage register entry for “Douglas George Stevenson, formerly Earley”. At some point Mabel’s son had chosen to use the surname Stevenson over Earley. Did this mean that he knew who his birth father was?

DNA testing has become a powerful and reliable tool in helping confirm ancestral relationships. In this case, I was able to make significant progress in overcoming the “brick wall” of unknown paternity with DNA results. Through a DNA match I was able to connect with a third cousin of my husband’s. Her description of her family background, after some research, gave me some likely suspects to be relatives of him, his brother and all of our children. As an added bonus, I was thrilled that she was able to provide a photograph:

 

Great GrandMother Annie Broadfoot- Great Gr Uncles Jonny-William-David-Jamie StevensonOne of these four young, hot-blooded Scots was, almost certainly, the father of Mabel’s child. He is my husband’s great-grandfather and my sons’ great-great grandfather. The four brothers are John, born 1885 (standing, left); William, born 1888 (standing, right); James, born 1890 (seated, left); David, born 1892 (seated, right). Their sister Annie is standing in the middle, and seated are their parents – Annie (McKie) Stevenson and William Stevenson.

The problem is, which brother was it?

 

 

*Location threw me off the scent for a long time. As Mabel gave birth in London, I thought she must have met the father in London. A recent conversation with the oldest living person with knowledge of the family said “his father was born in Barrhill” but had no other information on the matter.