A Wander Among the Dead...

Tuesday, 22 November 2016

Good Grief! Tee Bylo Begins a New Journey with the Dead as the Yorkshire History Sleuth!

Have you ever heard the one about how there are only two things that are certain to us? The first one being that we are all subject to some form of taxation and the second is that one day we WILL all die.

As a genealogical researcher I can often spend a lot of my time grappling with the mystery of death for if I’m not in search of a missing ancestor on behalf of a client, I can be poring over the details on a newly discovered (and often indecipherable!) certificate of death or else trawling through parish records in search of a burial entry or firing off email inquiries to the Registrar of a crematorium.

However, if the thought of death is a thought that you struggle with and have no wish to contemplate; This Silent Land is probably not the blog for you!

For on this blog, as well as sharing the tales of and triumphs of family history, I will be sharing the images of my wanderings among the dead and my reasons for doing so are quite simple for I love nothing more than a ramble through a cemetery and I have been pottering among the tombstones for as long as I can remember.

Pausing at the Grave of Lord Byron's Spouse, Anne Isabella, Lady Noel Byron in Kensal Green Cemetery, London...

And imagine my surprise and delight when I stumbled upon the blog Beneath Thy Feet  and discovered that far from being the only ‘Tombstone Tourist’, I counted over 45 fellow GeneaBloggers listed on this wonderful site who all share their wanderings among the dead!

Forget-Me-Nots and Ferns Jostle for Space in York Cemetery.

And when I discovered the Graveyard Vlogs of my friend, author and fellow Byronian Amy McLean.. Well let's just say that my plans for an afternoon of  research mysteriously vanished...

The author Lailah Gifty Akita has written that “The graveyard is an everlasting home of every man” and I couldn’t agree more for within most of our cemeteries, you can discover evidence of spectacular craftsmanship, awe inspiring stonework, history, sublime words of poignancy and the occasional flashes of humour!

And being able to locate the final resting place of the individual associated with my research endeavours has always been important to me and when my search is unsuccessful, I usually feel a sense of disappointment as if the final piece of the jigsaw is missing.

The elusive Clarice Tibbett is a case in point for not only is she the ancestor who having ignited my curiosity years ago leading to an irresistible urge to discover more about her and having been desperately seeking her through the mists of time ever since; I still do not know what has happened to her cremated remains.

The Grounds of Woodlands Crematorium in Scarborough. The Remains of Clarice Tibbett Left Here in June 1962 to Where... Who Knows! 

For having discovered the burial entries for her parents earlier this year in the City of Hull, I managed to convince myself that her ashes had been interred with them, but alas, after ploughing through more records in the Hull History Centre, my theory was dashed along with what remained of my clear vision and a sense of hope.

However, despite this disappointment over the elusive Clarice, I have recently discovered the whereabouts of numerous Edesons who having filled out the branches of my maternal family tree very nicely; are all to be located within the cemeteries of the coastal town of Scarborough and armed with the burial records and grid references, my journeys with the dead will begin another exciting chapter!

A Stone Angel within York Cemetery Photographed in May 2015

And so until the next time, I wish you Adieu!


Tee

Thursday, 23 June 2016

Peace, Perfect Peace! If I Should Die, Think Only This Of Me….

Clarice Tibbett,
Born on a Tuesday,
Baptised on a Tuesday,
Married on a Tuesday,
Took ill one Saturday,
Died that Tuesday,
Inquest held on the Thursday,
Cremated on the Friday,
That was the end,
Of Clarice Tibbett.

In case you haven’t recognised it, I have corrupted the ballad of poor old Solomon Grundy written by James Orchard Halliwell in 1842 and even though ‘Tuesday’ would be the most prophetic day during the short life of Clarice Tibbett; I have been musing on the fact that in less than a week after she died on June 19 1962, her inquest had been opened with a verdict rendered and on a cloudy afternoon the day following, her funeral had taken place.


It seems incredible that in less than 156 hours since that fateful Saturday lunchtime in which she had appeared ‘normal and cheerful’ to her husband John that her loved ones would gather the Friday following at Woodlands Crematorium in Scarboro to bid her ‘adieu’

Maybe I’m over-thinking this but the events of that week appear to have happened rather quickly and with Clarice there are always more questions than answers, however, as her funeral was held 54 years ago yesterday, I have taken a look through my archives and in the absence of any Memorial Card, a Letter of Sympathy or an Order of Service; I have discovered some images from my last June visit to Woodlands Crematorium which I share with you now.


The journey to the crematorium is along the leafy Woodlands Drive and having travelled this road on more than one occasion, I have often imagined that the tranquil view as one approaches the long sweeping drive to the entrance must be a reassuring sight to those on their own voyage of sadness.

As Woodlands opened in 1961, Clarice was among one of the first to be cremated here and since 1962, many of the Tibbett family have now joined her and I should add that as many more from the Tibbett clan are buried a stone's throw away in Woodlands Cemetery; my family history research here has kept me very busy over the years!


As Clarice's remains were 'removed' by the funeral director, I still have no idea of the place where she finally ended up!

Even after I discovered the burial entries for her parents last year in the City of Hull and managed to convince myself that her ashes had been interred with them, but alas, after trawling through more records in the Hull History Centrethat theory has been dashed although I still live in hope.

And, yes, I have asked (or nagged depending on who you ask!) if they have any idea where Clarice is and despite some wild and crazy ideas, I remain determined for being able to locate the final resting place of the individual associated with my research endeavours has always been important to me and when my search is unsuccessful, I usually feel a sense of disappointment as if the final piece of the jigsaw is missing.


I revealed in an earlier post on my blog Tuesday's Child that I knew nothing of Clarice for many years other than her name and that she had taken her own life and it would take several more to discover the actual year that she died and with my clan reluctant to tell or feigning poor memory; it took hours of scrawling through the on-line records of one of the first BMD websites (before the discovery of user friendly name searches) before my persistence was rewarded. 

I can still remember the arrival of that large brown envelope with her death certificate inside and my thoughts when I read the words Deceased killed herself whilst the balance of her mind was disturbed... However, that story is for another post!


And despite the absence of knowing her final resting place, there is a memorial to her in the Book of Remembrance at Woodlands Crematorium with a two line tribute which reads:

Tibbett, Clarice
Aged 48. Peace perfect peace - 1962

There is no other information available as to the identity of the loved one who commissioned this inscription for Clarice but I for one am delighted that they did and that every year on June 19, her name endures for posterity.


On this visit before it was time for me to leave, I took a stroll through the Garden of Remembrance which is vast space and with the sun shining as I enjoyed an idyllic hour pottering among the tributes, flowers and keepsakes that had been left with affection; the second verse from the magnificent poem by Rupert Brooke came to mind...


And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

For despite my frustration over the whereabouts of Clarice's remains, here at least in the grounds of Woodlands Crematorium, there really is 'some corner of a foreign field' that will be forever associated with her memory and that's fine with me.

Adieu for now...
Tee

Sources Used:
The Soldier by Rupert Brooke (1914)

Note to the Reader:
If you have had the melancholy task of arranging the scattering of a loved one's cremated remains in a place other than the crematorium; please be sure to let them know of this and this information can be given to those who come in search of their loved ones.

Desperately Seeking Clarice! The History Sleuth Goes in Search of the Girl from Hull…

What is Past is Prologue” so said the Bard William Shakespeare!

As well as a passion for creating ‘Small Worlds’ in 12th scale and occasionally scribbling about them for publication, I am also a family history sleuth who loves to go in search of elusive ancestors throughout the vale and dale of the county of Yorkshire.

Many years ago as my Grandmother would regale me with the tales of the elegant Dalby family from York and the Tibbett clan living, loving and squabbling within their adoptive land of Scarborough in North Yorkshire; I recall that it was at the first mention of the story about ‘Poor Clarice’ that my interest was really piqued.


For as every family history sleuth knows, there is usually always at least one ancestor that ignites curiosity and which leads to an irresistible urge to discover more about a life that somehow holds a peculiar affinity for you and it was hearing of the story of ‘Poor Clarice’ that ‘did it’ for me so to speak and I’ve been desperately seeking her through the mists of time ever since.

I began this journey armed only with lots of enthusiasm, a love of history and a little rudimentary knowledge about genealogy and I admit that the former was to prove the most essential tool as I would ‘dip in and out’ of my search for Clarice over the intervening years and usually after colliding head first into the proverbial ‘brick wall’ familiar to every family history sleuth!


And then I would hear some new nugget of information, stumble across an exciting genealogical discovery or would read an magazine article that would remind me of Clarice and I’d be off on my investigative journey again!

Upon my return to my hometown of York over a year ago, I was reunited with my boxes of research files and in the celebrated words of Shakespeare’s Henry V I have found myself “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.”


So who was ‘Poor Clarice’?

I would love to be able to share with you the complete back story of Clarice that I have uncovered over the preceding years, alas, ‘tis not possible as there still remains HUGE tracts of her life unexplained and I believe, undiscovered for it’s all just a question of finding the correct piece of the jigsaw puzzle!


However, what I do know is she was very much a woman of her times for she was born a ‘war baby’ in September 1913, married as a ‘war bride’ in August 1944 and died a ‘1960’s pill popper’ in the summer of 1962 by her own hand after several years of a consistent diet of prescribed sleeping tablets along with the controversial ECT treatment for the symptoms of clinical depression.

And that she was very much loved…

Bye for now!