The Marriage Certificate (4 page)

Peter settled himself at his
computer and studied the marriage certificate carefully for the first time. He
loved to play the detective and he felt the familiar buzz he always got when
starting research on a new family. He noticed that the bride and groom both
lived in Apsley Street: the groom at number 46 and the bride at number 15. Was
that a coincidence or a temporary situation prior to the wedding? Perhaps, they
were neighbours and he wondered if that was how they had met.

He looked at the occupations. He initially read the groom’s
occupation as ‘Leaman’, but could find no such trade listed. Then he realised
that the vicar’s loopy handwriting was to blame and that the groom was a ‘Seaman’,
and that made sense, as Leyton was not far from the docks in the East End of
London. Louisa’s occupation was shown as ‘Draper’, so perhaps she worked with
her father who described himself as ‘Master Draper’. The groom’s father was
‘Hotel Keeper’.

Peter looked up Apsley Street on the 1891 Census Return,
nine years before the marriage. It wasn’t there, which was odd. He tried the
1901 Census and found it, so it must have been built during the intervening ten
years. A quick search of the current property market in Leyton soon brought up
a picture of 32 Apsley Street, just a few doors away from the groom’s address.
The estate agent’s photograph showed a typical late Victorian, bay fronted,
terraced house with two bedrooms. He wondered whether number 46 looked similar.

Peter next tried a ‘persons’ search on the 1891 Census and
this time had immediate success. John Williams, the groom, was living with his
younger brother Frank, along with parents Arthur and Florence in Ventnor, Isle
of Wight. Arthur was head of the household and the census recorded that he was
‘Keeper of a Boarding House’. John, aged twenty-one, was listed as ‘Seaman’,
and brother, Frank, aged fourteen, as ‘Scholar’. Every member of the Williams
family had been born on the Isle of Wight.

He also found the bride’s family on the 1891 Census. They
were living at 41–44 High Street, Leyton. Thomas Crockford, widower, headed the
household as ‘Draper’. In 1891, he was forty-three. Louisa, his daughter, was
twenty, and there was a son, David, aged fifteen. The Census showed two other
girls in the household, aged sixteen and eighteen, who were listed as ‘Draper’s
Apprentices’. Mr Crockford obviously had a drapery shop and in 1891, the family
and staff lived on the premises.

Peter then tried a trade directory for 1900 and found
Crockford’s
Drapery
Emporium
. It had expanded to occupy numbers 41–48 High
Street, Leyton. Presumably, Mr Crockford had prospered and changed his
residential address from his shop to a private house, because at the time of
the marriage he had the shop and his house at 15 Apsley Street.

He looked more closely at the witnesses: Frank Williams, the
groom’s brother, was no doubt the best man. Rosetta Price was the other
witness. Peter was fairly certain that she would have been Louisa’s bridesmaid.
He found Rosetta Price too in 1891, living in Islington, London, aged nineteen,
a draper’s assistant, born in Llanelly, South Wales.
That fits very nicely
,
Peter thought. She and Louisa must surely have met through a connection with
the drapery trade. Perhaps, by the time of the wedding, Rosetta Price was even
working at Crockford’s, but he couldn’t be sure.

One detail from the certificate stood out: ‘Married by
Licence’. That was unusual. Church of England weddings normally took place
after Banns. That gave anyone who knew of a legal impediment to the marriage
the opportunity to make it known. ‘Married by Licence’ on the other hand, could
imply an element of haste, as no Banns would have been read.

Peter wondered about this for a while. Given the groom’s
occupation, he thought it possible that he could have been on leave and the
couple might have wanted to marry before he returned to sea. He checked the
date of the wedding … 15 January 1900 … a Monday; not quite the traditional
Saturday wedding he’d originally imagined. The London docks were conveniently
near for a mariner like John Williams. Peter thought he must have being doing
reasonably well to live in Apsley Street and wondered whether he was a ship’s
officer rather than just a ‘Seaman’.

Unfortunately, the census returns did not show if the head of
a household owned or rented the address at which they resided, but on the
question of rank, Peter came up with the answer. Searching crew lists, leaving
from London in 1900, he found the following entry.

Date: 19 January 1900

Port of Departure:
London

Ship’s Name: RMS
Kidwelly Castle, Castle Mail Packet Co. Ltd

Name of officer:
John Williams, Chief Engineer

Destination: Cape Town

With some satisfaction, Peter sat back from the computer.
Just four days after the wedding, John had left London on the
RMS Kidwelly
Castle
, his destination Cape Town, South Africa. That had to be the reason
or part of the reason why John and Louisa had married by Licence and on a
Monday too.
Hang on though
, he thought. In 1900, Great Britain was at
war in South Africa, fighting the Boers in The Boer War. It occurred to Peter
that any vessel sailing from London to Cape Town at that time would probably
have been used, to some extent, by the British War Office. He looked up the
history of the ship’s owners, the Castle Mail Packet Co. Ltd, and his suspicion
was confirmed.

In the autumn of 1899, the
RMS Kidwelly Castle
was
one of several vessels commissioned by the War Office to transport troops and
equipment to South Africa.

The staff gathered for breakfast, as usual. It was just after
eight o’ clock. Mr Crockford carried out his daily inspection at nine and
everyone had to be at their stations by then. Each evening, most of the fancy
window goods were folded up and put away, hence each morning the stock had to
be put back on display with labels and price tickets. Amy and Dorothy had
already been down to remove the shutters and dress the windows.

Mr Crockford was a stickler for detail. He carried out a
thorough inspection each morning before the shop opened for business. Every article
had to be clearly marked and displayed in a tidy and orderly manner. The female
staff were expected to look clean and presentable, with pinafores freshly
laundered and ironed.

That particular morning, there was a growing air of
excitement around the breakfast table. It was Saturday, and at close of
business that evening, the shop would remain closed until Tuesday morning. The
reason, that Louisa Crockford was getting married on Monday and Mr Crockford,
after careful consideration, had decided that it would be a kind gesture to
give all of the staff a day’s holiday so that they could attend the wedding. He
could have insisted that they work as normal, but he knew they would be
distracted and that it would be easier for all if he closed the shop.

He hadn’t been able to give his customers as much notice as
he would have liked, due to the short time which had elapsed between his
consenting to the marriage and the date fixed for it to take place. However,
Mondays were generally quiet, especially in January.

He liked his prospective son-in-law, John Williams. He
understood that John’s leave in England was limited. He was a ship’s engineer –
Chief Engineer, no less – and his ship was under the jurisdiction of the War
Office to transport troops and stores to Cape Town, where the war was not going
well for Britain. John and Louisa had been engaged for over a year, so a
certain amount of haste was understandable and acceptable. He appreciated too
that at twenty-nine, Louisa was not getting any younger and marriage
opportunities were likely to diminish, as she got older. He felt that it was
time she settled down with a husband and started her own life. Of course, he
would miss her in the shop, but he had already thought about how he would
manage without her.

He was optimistic about finding a replacement. He would
advertise again in the
Drapery News
. If that source of potential
employees proved to be as fortuitous as it had been in providing Rosetta Ince,
eighteen months earlier, then he would indeed be a happy man.

John Williams had spent little time in Leyton during the
engagement. His last leave, six weeks before, had been for just five days. He
had been at sea during Christmas and New Year and Louisa had missed him
greatly. His ship had returned from Cape Town and had berthed at the East India
Docks early on the morning of 7 January. The vessel required extra maintenance,
allowing him a generous twelve days’ leave. The day after his return, he had
told Thomas Crockford – with Louisa at his side – that they wished to marry
before he returned to sea. John explained to Louisa’s father that he had
enquired at St Martin’s Church and it was possible for the marriage to take
place by Special Licence on Monday, 15 January, just seven days away.

Mr Crockford gave his blessing to the wedding and Louisa had
set about organising the event. She didn’t want a grand affair and the couple
decided on a quiet wedding, with guests limited to immediate family, close
friends and the staff from the shop. She had asked Rose to be her bridesmaid
and John had asked his brother Frank to be his best man.

The time for the ceremony was set at eleven o’clock,
followed by a luncheon reception at The George Hotel in Leyton High Street,
just a few doors away from Crockford’s Drapery Emporium. Afterwards, they would
leave by train for John’s parents’ hotel at Ventnor on the Isle of Wight. His
ship was due to leave London the following Friday, which meant that they would
have only three nights in Ventnor, before returning to John’s house in Leyton on
the eve of his departure once again for Cape Town.

Louisa and Rose had been making new best dresses for some
time, which were both pale in colour, and Louisa’s was perfectly suitable as a
wedding dress. Little work was needed to finish them. Louisa had collected
John’s smartest uniform from the laundry. She had checked to see what her
father intended to wear and had made sure that everything he needed was ready
and prepared for the big day. She had called at Mr Douglas, the portrait
photographer, who had agreed to a special sitting during which he would
photograph her and John immediately following the ceremony. It would take about
thirty minutes, giving them enough time afterwards to walk the few doors down
to The George Hotel for the wedding luncheon.

As Rose sat at breakfast that Saturday morning, listening to
the young girls chattering about the wedding, she was not only excited by the
honour of being the bridesmaid. She had another reason … she was thrilled at
the prospect of seeing Frank again. Her mind drifted back to their first
meeting on the previous Wednesday evening … 

She and Louisa had been invited to dinner at 46 Apsley
Street to discuss the arrangements. Mrs Jones, the housekeeper from
Crockford’s, had been sent over earlier to cook a meal for them, which smelled
delicious when they arrived. John showed them into the parlour.

‘Rosetta, I would like to introduce you to my brother,
Frank. Frank, this is Miss Ince, Louisa’s friend and her bridesmaid.’

Rose had always thought John a handsome man, but on seeing
Frank, she was even more impressed. She felt sure that Frank must have noticed
her cheeks flush when she offered her hand to him.

‘I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Ince. I have
heard much about you, all favourable of course.’

‘Thank you, Mr Williams.’

‘Oh, please call me Frank … we need to be less formal,
especially with our joint responsibilities towards my brother and your dear
friend Louisa, my future sister-in-law.’

‘Yes of course … and please call me Rose.’ She barely dared
to look him in the eye. Louisa had told her that Frank was twenty-four, six
years younger than his brother. He stood nearly six feet tall, of average
build. He had a full head of fair hair and a very distinctive waxed moustache.
He had a presence, which she couldn’t at first determine, but as they all
chatted and laughed Rose realised he had a confidence and an attitude, which
she decided, was most attractive. Frank had been lodging with his brother for
nearly six months. He worked as a clerk in a shipping agent’s office near the
Albert Docks. By all accounts, he was doing well and had good prospects.

It was during dinner that Frank dropped his bombshell. It
was news to everyone seated at the table, including John.

‘I’ve been given nine months’ sabbatical. I spent this
morning at the Guildhall because I’ve decided to answer the government’s call
for volunteers to join the City Imperial Volunteers and serve my country in
South Africa. I was sworn in and I have to report to barracks next Thursday for
the issue of uniform and kit.’

There was silence for a few moments. John looked surprised
and dismayed. ‘Are you sure you’ve done the right thing? What about your
position at the shipping agents?’

‘It’s fine. It’s all agreed. I’m not the only one; there are
several of us who’ve volunteered. By all accounts it should improve our
prospects when we get back.’

‘What if you
don’t
come back?’ asked John.

There was another awkward silence until Frank continued once
more. ‘Look, I can ride and I can shoot. I’ve already had military training.’

‘But look what happened down there in December,’ John said.
‘How many was it? Something like 2,800 casualties on our side compared to about
280 Boers, in one week alone!’

Frank, full of confidence, waved aside his brother’s
concerns. ‘Look, I’ll be fine. The government has promised to change tactics
and update our weapons. They’re replacing lances with rapid-fire rifles. The
war will be over in no time and I should be back by autumn at the latest.
That’s what everyone believes. Besides, some of my colleagues might be in the
same company and if not, then I’ll soon make some new friends and we’ll be able
to look out for each other. Don’t be worried, I’m not!’

‘What sort of military training have you had?’ asked Rose,
interrupting the conversation between the brothers and surprising herself at
her boldness. In fact, she was still a little unsettled at her reaction to
meeting Frank. Normally so confident and single-minded in wanting to achieve
her ambitions, for the first time ever, she was suddenly aware that perhaps
there were other aspects to life, apart from seeking goals allied to commercial
success.

Frank turned to her. ‘I was a horseman in the Hampshire and
Isle of Wight Yeomanry. They said that I would be ideally suited to being
trained as a mounted trooper in the CIV. We’ll probably spend most of our time
on scouting duties. It should be fun.’

‘When did do you say you have to report to barracks?’ asked
John.

‘The eighteenth, next Thursday; why do you ask?’

‘Because we sail from London on the nineteenth and we’re due
to embark troops for the Cape on the twentieth from Southampton. I’ll bet
anything that if your enlistment programme goes according to the usual timings,
you’ll be among the men we take on at Southampton.’

‘That’s great then. You can make sure that I get special
passenger status!’

John said no more on the subject at that point and the
conversation moved on to the wedding arrangements. Little did the others know
that he had mixed emotions about taking his younger brother to war, to the
horrors that would surely await him. He understood that Frank wanted to seek
adventure and to see the world, but he wished that he had thought of some other
way, rather than joining up. On his recent return from Cape Town they had
repatriated over 200 casualties with a variety of injuries, some very serious
indeed. He had heard first-hand just how hard the fighting had been and how the
Boers, with better equipment and using unfamiliar tactics, had given the
British troops an unexpected and thorough bloody nose. The war was no picnic
and he truly feared for his brother’s safety …

After the shop opened that Saturday morning, Rose busied herself
with her work and it wasn’t until later in the day during a quiet spell that
she recollected once again the conversation between the two brothers during
dinner. What if Frank really was killed or badly injured? That would be awful
and such a waste too! Frank was exciting. He had good prospects and John
reckoned that if he stuck at his job then he had a good career ahead of him.

Imagine that
, she thought,
my husband a shipping
agent
.
Did I just say husband to myself? I think you may be getting
ahead of yourself there, Rose Ince
. She scolded herself.
Marriage is not
for you!
Now, pull yourself together and concentrate. Let’s just get
these measurements correct for Miss Dalby’s curtains
.