The suppositions we have of our ancestors.

[Greensleeves]

I was very shocked to find some very devious goings-on in my County Durham family.  In the 19th century William married a woman a few years older than him, and she subsequently had a baby boy.  William's father was the Parish Clerk, and the baptism of the child was noted as "..... the bastard child of ......,  the wife of William S......".  The mother died a few days later, and a week or so later the baby also died and was again referred to in the PR as "the bastard child of .....  wife of William S....".  A month later, William married rather grandly.  Obviously nothing can be proved but to me the whole thing stinks.  First the attempt to disinherit the child, then mother dies, and then the baby.  Did they die naturally, I wonder, or were they helped on their way.  Of course we will never know, but I always shudder when I think of that Parish Clerk and his questionable morals.

[iolaus]

One of my ancestors second husband was a wife beater - he then vanishes into thin air, there's a part of me that hopes she snapped and buried him under the patio (more likely he just abandoned her though)

[Annie65115]

My gt-gt-grannie married when heavily pregnant, at age 17 (she lied about her age), and I think had cause to regret it. She was beaten up regularly by her husband according to the papers; he was described in court as "a perfect brute". She was eventually (16 children later) admitted to the asylum; the NSPCC were then involved in the lack of care for the younger surviving children.

Given that the courts were used to seeing drunken men hitting women, and that child welfare wasnt generally top of the Victorian agenda, I can only presume that my gt-gt-grandfather's behaviour was at the worse end of the spectrum.

I find it particularly sad that once her husband had died, her place as family punchbag was maintained by her oldest surviving son who was also always in and out of court. Children learn what they see at home.

[Finley 1]

How awful  -- some times it makes you wonder.

It is NOT that many years since it was 'still alright' to clip the Mrs....


xin

[Viktoria]

Considering that many men were paid in pubs,it is small wonder they got drunk especially on pay nights.
My parents used to tell us how they would see the awful treatment the wives got when after patiently waiting outside the pub for what was left of their husbsnd’s wages,when they approached their husbands for money for food
they were savagely beaten.
The Police policy was not to interfere in a “domestic” so no help for the women, neighbours too did not interfere .
One dreadful spectacle which was seared on my Mum’s memory was of a woman who had glorious long hair,this would be about 1900 so short hair was not really an option,this poor woman was hung over the verandah railings of the first floor flat in a big building known as dwellings on Oldham Rd.Manchester.Her husband wrapped her hair round his arm and suspended her.This happened once when she was in the last stage of pregnancy.
It was a regular Saturday night spectacle.How shocking
Neither of my parents drank, having seen the resulting effect on families.
Children either emulate what they have seen because to them it is normal behaviour ,this can be good or bad behaviour but some do the opposite if they know first hand the effect  their parent(s)bad behaviour had on them.
They have no desire to be like a bad parent.
My friend married a wife beater,against the advice of all her friends ,me included. He got her to believe she was useless without him.
When she had her first baby(a few months but not nine) after they married we popped round to see her,she answered the door ,thrust the new born into my arms and said “go to my mother’s”.
We did not want to leave her but she insisted it was the best thing to do.
My O.H was a quiet peaceable man but he wanted to at least talk to her husband but it was no good.
We took the baby to her Mum’s and my O.H and her Dad went back to my friend’s,by which time she was on the floor being kicked from head to toe.
They struggled with him and got her away.If only she had come with us.
She had bad injuries internally and a breast abscess after that.
They moved about and I lost touch no doubt his taking her away from any form of support.
The last time I saw her was on a bus going down Cheetham Hill Rd, with a suitcase. She was going to Strangeways as he was being released that day.
She had two more children and would not tell me where she lived.
I have no idea why he was inside but hoped very much  if it was for assaulting her it had been a good long stretch and he’d been treated as he treated my friend.
I cried when she got off at the bottom of Cheetham Hill Rd.
We had been good friends all through college and she had refused a good decent steady lad for the @#&*+%#@& she ended up with.
He took over her mind.
       
Viktoria.

[Finley 1]

'even the gentlest / quietest looking 'person' can be guilty of 'Gas-lighting' - and I have been told I am 'paranoid' regarding this...

But I have seen it at very close quarters.


xin

[LizzieW]

My cousin the eldest of 5 boys was complaining to me that he lived in a house full of women from his birth in 1942 until about 1946/7 when his parents got a council prefab.  He lived with his mum, his gran and 2 aunts, but his mum was the only one with a child, he was born before his dad went to war as an Irish Guard.

However, he also told me his dad was a prisoner of war in Germany.  I looked him up on Ancestry and he was in Stalag III-A camp, which was apparently not liberated until 22 April 1945 although UK prisoners weren't released until a month later.  The 2nd child was born less than 9 months later.

No wonder then that my cousin also complained that his dad was always in the pub and never at home with him and his brothers (he had 4 eventually, the final 3 born in 1947, 1949 and 1952).  I guess being a POW in a Stalag camp with all that entailed.

Funnily enough, although I only saw his dad a few times a year, I always thought he was lovely, so it just shows you never know what is going on behind closed doors.