The sad finale of Alfred Pearson Bentley

Back in 2015, I told the story of Alfred Pearson Bentley, my maternal great great grandfather. Alfred left his wife Annie (nee Reed) and four young children in Salford, Lancashire in about 1878, and sailed to America. Ostensibly he planned to establish himself in the States before bringing his family to join him. But in 1879, having settled in Boston, he bigamously married another English migrant, Annie Jane Smith. 

The first Annie was left in financial hardship to raise her family alone. Family lore has it that she was led to believe that Alfred had died in America. It's unclear whether or not deliberate deception was involved, but having listed herself as 'married' on the census of 1881, she declared herself a widow on the 1891 census. She died in 1899, apparently still believing that Alfred was dead.

Alfred and the second Annie returned to England some time in the 1880s with their Boston-born son, John Alfred (who shared his name with one of Alfred's other children). They settled in Annie's home county of Cheshire, only 33 miles from Salford, and there Alfred continued his career as an engraver. John, who worked as a clerk in an insurance office after leaving school, remained living with his father after his mother's death in 1914. 

I noted in my previous post that Alfred was baptised into the Church of England in 1890 at the age of 41. He died in September 1922, aged 73. My cousin records on his family tree that his death was said to be due to 'senile debility and cardiac failure'. 

The next record I had of John Alfred appeared in the 1939 England and Wales register, when he was an inmate of the County Mental Hospital in Cheshire. The last sad trace I could find of John was his death in a Cheshire mental hospital in September 1971. He left a considerable estate of over 12,000 pounds, presumably inherited from his parents. As far as I could tell, he remained unmarried and had no descendents. 

A new twist in the story

That was as far as the story went when I wrote about it ten years ago. But recently I've come across newspaper accounts and court records from 1922 that give a dramatic twist to the life of John Alfred and the death of Alfred Pearson Bentley.

On 12 November 1921, John Alfred Bentley, described as a 38 year old insurance clerk, was arrested for 'attempting to procure the commission of an act of gross indencency with males.' (Homosexual activity, even in private between consenting adults, was a criminal offence in England until 1967.) After appearing in the Birkenhead County Court on 24 November 1921, he was committed for trial three months later. His father, named in newspaper reports as Alfred Pearson Bentley, put up bail of 200 pounds. But rather than going home with Alfred, John disappeared.

A bench warrant for John's arrest was issued when he failed to show up in court in Chester both on 28 February and on 1 March 1922. He again failed to appear on either 10 July or 14 July. By now the judges' patience had run out. Bail and surety was 'estreated' i.e. forfeited. 

The Halifax Evening Courier reported on 15 July that the judge called John's elderly father, Alfred Pearson Bentley, to the witness box to explain why his son had not appeared. Alfred said he had made every endeavour to trace his son and to persuade him to turn up at his trial. 

'I am sorry that any act of mine should be done to defeat justice. When I went bail for my son, it was solely with the idea that he would be more comfortable at home than in confinement,' he said. 'He was always a very good son, considerate, generous and helpful; in fact all that a son could possibly be...He deceived me as he evidently had not the courage to come and face his trial... '

The judge asked, 'Did you write the letter I told you to write? I gave you an address in Paris.' 

To which Alfred replied, 'I wrote on Monday.'

'And you have had no reply?' 

'No.'

It's unclear what this address in Paris was about, or whether Alfred's letter had any effect. It doesn't seem to have prompted John to return immediately. According to a report in the Belfast Telegraph of Saturday 9 September, John was eventually arrested at his father's home two months later, on Tuesday 5 September. Alfred is reported to have collapsed at home the same day and died in hospital the following day, Wednesday 6 September 1922.* 

Perhaps the shock of John's arrest had hastened his death. Or possibly John had returned home in response to hearing of his father's imminent demise. Either way, it seems certain that the strain, and disappointment of the recent months had a dreadful and tragic impact on Alfred's health. He literally died of a broken heart.

Today it's difficult to imagine the depth of embarrassment and concern a parent in the 1920s would feel if a son was publicly exposed for homosexual activity. Alfred claimed he put up bail so that his son could await trial in the comfort of home. But it's also likely he wanted to spare John the experience of spending time in prison. Men accused of 'gross indecency' did not fare well in the prison environment.

Then there was the worry that he might forfeit the money he had put up as bail. While he was quite well off, 200 pounds was still a considerable sum in 1922. And unless he was complicit in John's disappearance, he would surely have been concerned about his whereabouts and well-being.

Finally, another great anxiety for Alfred must have been the possibility that someone from his first family might see and recognise his name in the papers. The same story carried in the Halifax Evening Courier appeared in newspapers across the country.  'Alfred Bentley' was a common enough name, but 'Alfred Pearson Bentley' was unique. He faced the possibility that his previous deceptive life might be exposed.

It was a dreadful situation for Alfred. Yet it's difficult not to see the irony of his words in court, 'He deceived me as he evidently had not the courage to come and face his trial'. How might his first wife Annie, had she been alive, have responded to that? The betrayer had surely been betrayed.

An unclaimed fortune?

John, who probably knew nothing of his father's past life, finally came to trial on 24 October 1922, and was found guilty of 'attempting to procure acts of gross indecency'. He was sentenced to twelve months imprisonment. How this 'crime' and his imprisonment related to his mental health issues is one of those things that can be imagined but never be known. It seems he led a very lonely life. 

Nearly three years after John's death in 1971, Bell and Joynson, a company of solicitors, advertised in The People magazine of 12 May 1974 for relatives of John Alfred Bentley, 'no matter how distant', to contact them, as they 'may hear something to their advantage'. By 1974 all of Alfred's other children were long deceased. I wonder if anyone ever enjoyed the benefits of Alfred Pearson Bentley's fortune?

*According to the probate record, Alfred died on 9 September. But if the newspaper was already aware of his death on that date, it seems more likely that 6 September is correct.

Mrs C J Hough (Cecil Jean MacVicar Shaw)

For the past couple of years my blog posts have focused on the Whybrew and Mason families, on the paternal side of my family. But with the recently published 1921 UK census offering never-before available information, I've decided that it's time to take another look at some of the other branches of my family tree.

'Mrs C. J. Hough'

One of the first mysteries that the 1921 census allowed me to solve was the identity of 'Mrs C. J . Hough' who was listed on the National Roll of the Great War at the same address as my maternal grandmother's uncles, John and James Hough. I'd guessed that she was probably the wife of John Hough, since I knew James' wife was called Elizabeth. But I couldn't find out any more about 'C.J.' or a record of their marriage.

Looking up the address given on the National Roll (18 Shuttleworth Street, Pendleton) in the 1921 census revealed that there were two households listed at this address. The first consisted of James and Elizabeth Hough, their son Albert, plus a number of other relatives, including my 17 year old grandmother, Margaret Annie Bentley. (More of that another time.)

The other household contained only two names, Cecil Jean Hough, aged 37, and her one-year old son Cecil John Hough. Cecil Jean was described as 'wife' of the head of the family. Strangely, John Hough is listed as the person who filled in the census, but his details aren't included. But at least I could now be fairly certain that 'Mrs C. J.  Hough' was Cecil Jean, John's wife. 

From her son's birth registration in 1920 I discovered her maiden name was Shaw, and the baby was born in Marylebone, in London. A note, 'nee Shaw' also appeared on her entry in the UK, World War I Service Medal and Award Rolls, where she was listed under her married name. It seems likely that she and John met as a result of their time in the armed services. 

I haven't found a definite record of their marriage, but a marriage registered towards the end of 1918 between John Hough and 'Cecil J Shand' in Wandsworth is possibly theirs.

An Indian childhood

On the 1921 census transcript, Cecil Jean is said to have been born in India. This might have been a misunderstanding on the part of John Hough when he filled in the census details. Cecil Jean MacVicar Shaw's birth was registered in Marylebone, London, in the second quarter of 1885. When she was baptised on 2 March 1885, her parents were living at 6 Harley Place, Marylebone. This was a mews off the more famous Harley Street. 

But it seems likely that Cecil (sometimes listed as Cecilia) did spend most of her childhood in India.The baptism record describes her father, Robert John MacVicar Shaw, as an Indian coffee planter. 

Robert Shaw and her mother, Florence Carew Hutchinson, were married in Jersey in 1876. Florence, who was born in India, seems to have died sometime before 1904. Robert married Marie Ombrey Leacock in Tamil Nadu, India, that year. 

Joining the army

QMAAC clearing up after the air-raid at Abbeville

When the 1911 UK census was taken, Cecil was in Wales, working as a wardmaid at the Royal Alexandra Hospital in Rhyl. Her experience in that role would have made her a good candidate for the Queen Mary's Army Auxillary Corps. This began orginally in 1917 as the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps (WAAC). It's purpose was to free up men from administrative and home service jobs for fighting on the front. 

On the National Roll her entry reads:

HOUGH, C. J. (Mrs.), Worker, Q.M.A.A.C. (Queen Mary's Army Auxiliary Corps)

Having joined in March 1918, she was sent to France, where she did excellent work as waitress in the Officers' mess at Abbeville, and was wounded during an air raid on that place. She remained in this area until June 1919, when she returned home and was demobilised, holding the General Service and Victory Medals.  18, Shuttleworth Street, Pendleton."

Cecil Jean was fortunate to survive the air raid on Abbeville, on the Somme. Nine women died in the raid. This film clip shows the damage done to the women's camp.

John Hough was a corporal in the 8th Lancashire Fusilliers and also spent time in France. His entry in the National Roll reads:

Volunteering in August 1914, in the following month he was sent to Egypt, and served there until drafted to the Dardanelles, where he took part in numerous engagements until the Evacuation, and was wounded. He then returned to Egypt, and in March 1917 proceeded to France, where he fought on the Ancre, at Ypres, and in the Retreat. After the Armistice he was sent to Ireland and served there until, owing to ill-health, he was invalided home and discharged in November 1920, holding the Star, and the General Service and Victory Medals. 18, Shuttleworth Street, Pendleton

John and Cecil had (at least) three children - Cecil John in 1920, Peter in 1922 and Margaret in 1926. Peter died in infancy, and possibly also Margaret. Cecil Jean herself died in 1927 and was buried in what seems to be a shared grave with several unrelated people. I haven't been able to discover for certain when John died, although 1942 seems likely. I can't remember my grandmother ever mentioning Cecil or Cecilia when she spoke about her family.

Harriet Whybrew - an update

 

Poor Harriet! I've found more information about her recently, but everything I've discovered has been bad news. 

To recap on what I've already written about her, Harriet was David and Susan Whybrew's first child. She was born in Adelaide in 1868, before they were married. When David's regiment returned to England, Susan went too, taking their second daughter, Eliza, with them, but leaving Harriet behind. I've discussed who might have taken care of Harriet and how she came to be reunited with her family in her late teens.

Harriet's name began appearing in the Adelaide press in January 1882, when she was only thirteen, though she was reported to be fifteen. She was charged with stealing a watch and other property. The police magistrate sent her to the Industrial School, a reformatory, for twelve months. Even there she got into trouble.

Between then and August 1885 she was constantly in and out of the police courts, often charged with 'loitering' or with the use of bad language. Sometimes she paid a fine, sometimes she went to prison for several weeks. 

I've recently come across some additional newspaper reports and records that I hadn't seen before. All together, I've found twelve mentions of Harriet in the police court between 1882 and 1885. On one occasion, in July 1883, she and her cousin, Rose Atkin, appeared together, both charged with 'using indecent language, loitering etc'. They were each fined two pounds. Rose paid the fine but Harriet went to gaol for three months, presumably because she couldn't pay. On the prison records (which are now available on familysearch.org) both girls were described as prostitutes. 

Time in hospital?

I still don't know what happened to Harriet between her last appearance in the Adelaide courts in August 1885 and her appearance in court in  Colchester in England in October 1888. But I did discover a 'Susan Whybrow' listed in the Adelaide hospital admissions in 1885. She was said to be eighteen years old, single, Roman Catholic, born in South Australia. She was admitted on 26 November.

Since I can't find any Susan Whybrow (or similar name) born in SA around the right time, and the details fit Harriet pretty well, I'm wondering if someone inadvertently listed her mother's name instead of hers. After all, the Destitute Asylum twice listed David Whybrew as her uncle rather than her father. The hospital admission records (which are also now on familysearch.org) show that she was in hospital for two weeks. 

The name 'J. Bonnin' is listed under the 'circumstances' column. Was this a doctor? An employer? A friend? Usually doctors were given their title in this column. The only Dr J Bonnin I can find in Adelaide, James A Bonnin, didn't graduate until 1895. A John Bonnin (or Bonnie or Bonney) appeared in the Police Courts around this time, charged with use of indecent language. Perhaps he brought Harriet to the hospital.

Harriet, if this is her, was treated for anaemia. Given her lifestyle, it's quite likely that Harriet would have had a poor diet, which could have led to chronic anaemia. But if she was admitted to hospital for treatment, it's more likely that the anaemia was acute. I can only speculate on what might have caused this, but it does seem that something happened at the end of 1885 that led to the end of Harriet's appearances in the Police Court.

If Harriet was in hospital in late November 1885, then she couldn't have been the 'Miss S Wybrow" who left Adelaide for England on 15 November. The identity of this Miss Wybrow is a mystery. I can't find any other mention of her existence. 

How Harriet came to rejoin her family is also still a mystery. My hunch continues to be that the Salvation Army might have had something to do with it, given their outreach to 'fallen women' in Adelaide, and Harriet's sister Eliza's association with the 'Salvos' in Colchester. An article about the Salvation Army 'home for fallen women' in Norwood reported in August 1886 that

Since the opening, thirty-four girls and women have been received, thirteen of whom have been placed in situations, and from reports that are received by the matron, they are giving entire satisfaction, and are most thankful to the officers of the institution for the great benefits derived by them from its establishment. Four of the number have been restored to their parents, and four have been transferred to the lying-in department of the destitute, whilst one married' woman has returned to her husband.

Perhaps Harriet was one of those restored to her parents. 

(My thanks to the South Australia Genealogy group on Facebook, who helped me to find some of this information.)

You can find out more about Susan and David Whybrew and their family, in my book Susan: convict's daughter, soldier's wife, nobody's fool.
It's available on Amazon and other online books stores