Family Stories
Murder, Mayhem, and
Exemplary Exploits Worth Remembering
James Pibworth
(1850 - June 11, 1882)
and the Alexandria, Egypt Riots
James was born in Portsea to James Pibworth and Jane Fletcher, the third child in a family of
four siblings. He attended the Greenwhich Hospital School in Kent and by age 20 he was
back living with his parents and siblings at 101 Fratton Street, Portsea, and was an engineer
student with the Royal Navy. His untimely death occurred on 11 June, 1882 while stationed
on board HMS Superb as it was docked at Alexandria, Egypt.
The riots started when the Egyptions suddenly, without warning, began an organized mass riot against any Christian European national. They picked up any kind of weapon they could find and attached Christian men, women and children without conscience. Stores and homes were vandalized and the naval base in the harbour, where HMS Superb was stationed, was at serious threat of being swarmed.
Being in the wrong place at the wrong time, James had earlier decided to leave the ship and explore the town. As the riots began, James was caught up in the mass uprising and had little chance of coming out of it unscathed.
One report describes the aftermath of the riot and how James' body and the bodies of two other English naval offices "were emarked at 2:00 pm under the escort from the local authorities".
James' body was returned to England and he was buried at Highland Road Cemetery in Portsmouth.
(Paternal Line)
Dora Annie Jerome
and Harlan Howard Payne
As told by their son, Frank J. Payne
Contributed by Holly Payne
The Migration
At the turn of the 20th Century Western Canada was opened for Homesteading. As the Canadian Pacific railway, the CPR, was extending westward across Canada the Canadian Government invited settlers to come and "prove up" their assigned homesteads. This consisted of putting a required amount of the assigned land under cultivation. The usual crop in the plains of Alberta was wheat. To protect the wheat and grassland from the dreaded prairie fires, the homesteaders planted row upon row of sugar beets in "fire gardens" which surrounded the shelters for both man and beast.
(Paternal Line)
Effective fire gardens were wide enough to prevent the prairie fires from jumping over and setting the houses and barns on fire. Sugar beens were also grown to distill the sugar. Wells had to be dug for water, the grass mowed for hay to feed the horses and oxen, and fuel had to be prepared as a defense against the the sub-zero cold of the long winters. The homesteads were close enough to the rail-pints and towns built along the right-of-way of the CPR, so the grain could be brought by wagon for sale and shipment.
Both my mother and my father were part of this migration. My maternal grandfather, Sam Jerome, had come to Canada when he was 16 years old, but returned to England to learn his trade as a skilled artisan and foreman in the royal Navy shipyard in charge of hand-railings and stair case building. He married and established a family, but moving to Canada was a recurring dream of opportunity for him.
My grandfather Sam Jerome, and his son Frank, for whom I am named, were the first of the Jerome's to migrate to Alberta shortly after the turn of the century. Fred Jerome followed soon after, and his fiance Aggie followed on with Dora Jerome to accompany her on the long ocean journey and the trek across Canada by train, then buckboard wagon. Dora would later recount the story of the buckboard ride across the frozen prairies and how, upon reaching their destination frozen to the core from being bundled up on the open buckboard, the marriage between her brother Fred and Aggie took place immediately. It was only proper! The wedding dinner consisted of potato and leek soup.
Grandfather Sam Jerome was a skilled carpenter and cabinet maker who built many houses in Castor, Alberta, as well as building cabinets, staircases and railings for the Seventh Day Adventist College in nearby Lacombe. Once the men were established in the homestead, the rest of the Jerome family followed. There was my grandmother Annie Jerome; their daughter Winnie who had been adopted as an infant by Granny and Grandad; and daughter Edith, whose successsful commercial laundry business in England had done much to support the family and to finance the migration to Canada.
Their migration was not without its sorrow though as Frank Jerome, the first of the younger generation to migrate, died of pneumonia before the women arrived.
My mother was Dora Annie Jerome, born in 1888, the second eldest daughter of Grandfather Samuel J. Jerome and Grandmother Annie Jerome. Self-sufficient but somewhat a loner, mother preferred small groups, rather than large ones, and held strong opinions but rarely spoke out about things. She enjoyed participation as an accompanist, could transpose music at sight but never played solo. She was troubled most of her life with asthma and shortness of breath, and it would be this that eventually concluded their later move from Alberta. Mother never sang but she was always at the epicenter of music at church and in our home.
Dora soon became the organist for the Castor Methodist Church where she met and fell in love with Harlan Howard Payne, an ambitious young man who had given up his American citizenship to "homestead" in Alberta. Harlan sang baritone in the choir and courted Dora by taking her on longs walks along the "sloughs" while red-winged blackbirds danced amongst the cattails. He not only married Dora, whom he always dearly loved, but also adopted her family as his own. Dora always shared her husband and children with her mother, father and two sisters who all lived together as a three generational family much of her married life.
My father, Harlan Howard Payne, or Harry Payne as he preferred to be called, was born in 1888 in Iowa. At 17, Harry and his father emigrated to Alberta where they homesteaded. My dad proved-up his homestead near Castor, Alberta on December 31, 1912, which he immediately sold for $2,500. On December 29th, two days before dad proved up his homestead, I was born in a house build by my Grandfather, Sam Jerome, in Castor, Alberta. The family lived in the town home for the winter months but also had a sod house with a dirt floor and a grass roof which was required on the homestead. The family enjoyed living on the homestead in the summer.
With the modest nest egg from the sale of his homestead, Dad turned from farming to selling automobiles and farm equipment. In 1914 when Canada entered WW1, Dad amoved the whol family to Calgary and rented a large house near the army camp. He drove a taxi, sold picture frames crafted by Sam Jerome, and then sold Franklin and Chevrolet automobiles. The Jerome and Payne Families eventually left Alberta for the United States but they forgot their homesteading days in Alberta. Dora Jerome Payne became the family historian re-telling stories to her children, grand-children, and great-grandchildring until her death in 1981.
Fearless Fred Jerome - Acts of Bravery and Courage
Frederick was born in Moscow Buildings, West Street, Southsea, Hampshire, England. He became an apprentice on HMS Vincent in 1839 but did not like the severe conditions on board and swam ashore, made for London on foot and obtained a berth on an American Packet Boat.
On the 25th March 1846 he was on the Henry Clay bound for New York when the ship ran aground at Barnegate on the coast of New Jersey in an Equinoctial storm. The weather was extremely cold and a heavy sea was running which prevented the use of lifeboats. Frederick volunteered to swim ashore with a line. This he managed after considerable difficulty and a thicker hawser rope was then pulled ashore and the crew and passengers rescued.
On 24th August 1848 he was a seaman on the American Packet ship New World, leaving Liverpool with emigrants bound for New York. In the Irish channel off Holyhead a similar ship called the Ocean Monarch that was sailing behind them, caught fire. The New World put about and sailed to the assistance of the stricken ship. Frederick swam to the burning ship, climbed on board and lowered passengers, one by one, from the bow sprit to rescue boats below.
The following reports appeared English and American newspapers:
(Paternal Line)
From 'The Illustrated London News', September 2nd, 1848 : "An act of heroism was performed by one Frederick Jerome, a native of Portsmouth and a crewmember of the New World. He stripped himself naked and swam through the wreckage with a line, climbed aboard the Ocean Monarch and succeeded in lowering the last helpless victims into a boat before he, himself, was forced to leave. On arriving at the Affonso he was congratulated for his bravery and received a gratuity from the Duke d'Aumale."
From ‘The Scientific American’, September 30th, 1848 :
"A NOBLE ACT HANDSOMELY ACKNOWLEDGED The Common Council of New York have voted the freedom of the city and a gold box, with suitable inscriptions, to Frederick Jerome, the gallant sailor who saved so many passengers of the Ocean Monarch, at the evident peril of his own life.
Jerome belongs to the port of New York, where his wife and family reside. He had, on a previous occasion saved a number of lives and when the catastrophe happened to the Ocean Monarch, he swam to the wreck and with his own hands lowered some fifteen or twenty helpless females into the boat. He was rewarded by a present of £50 from the Prince de Joinville and Duc d’Aumale; the Queen of England also presented him with another £50, and the Humane Society of Liverpool with a gold medal. This intrepid sailor reached this city a few days since in the ship New World, and the Common Council have appointed a special committee to wait on him with their handsome acknowledgement of his intrepidity and humanity."
The Shipwreck & Humane Society of Liverpool presented Frederick with their thanks and a gold medal valued at 25 guineas. The Common Council of New York passed resolutions on 26th September 1848 complimenting Jerome on his courage and voted him the freedom of the city with a richly chased gold snuff box suitably inscribed. The Massachusetts Humane Society of Boston presented him with an inscribed gold medal.
When the Gold Rush to California began in 1849 as an inducement to sail on a vessel bound for the diggings, the owners advertised that Fred Jerome the great life saver would go on that ship. He finally sailed on another ship the Tarolinta which arrived in San Francisco on 6th July 1849.
Frederick was elected a member of the Society of Californian Pioneers on 6th December 1871 and on 2nd April 1877 he was unanimously elected an Honorary member by a vote of the Society for the saving of human lives in California. He was also a life member of the New England Society of California Pioneers and he owned a certificate showing that he was a member of Enterprise Lodge No.228 F&A.M. New York.
He returned to the sea and was employed in the U.S. Marshal's Service and also in the Custom House Service. During the construction by the Government of the Cape Mendoeins light house Frederick was in charge of the boats landing materials and during the four months the work took to complete he landed 8000 tons through the surf and only one life was lost.
In the American Civil War of 1861- 1865 Frederick was First Officer on a Northern ship the Alabama. He spotted a Confederate privateer and reported it to the captain, suggesting hoisting German or English Colours. The captain did not believe him and the boat was captured. While the crew were at dinner Frederick suggested shutting them below hatches and capturing the ship but he was betrayed by a German sailor and Frederick was roped to the mast for three days. He was then transferred to a Chinese vessel and the Southerners paid for Jerome to be taken to Peking. When Frederick was landed he was spotted by a Japanese Captain whom Frederick had helped some years before. The Japanese had him fed, provided with new clothes and money, and put him on a boat for Liverpool. After the war he obtained 6,000 dollars compensation for his loss when the ship was burnt.
He saved the life of the captain of the Lucky Star and his wife and daughter wrecked on the Coast of Formosa and the son of Captain Mann of the Lincoln who fell overboard. He saved four people from a boat that capsized in the bay near Angels Island. He saved a lunatic who jumped from a ship into the bay.
In March 1862 when he was deck officer on the steamer Herman bound for Victoria B.C. Mr. John P Boring a pioneer, who was a passenger on the vessel running in thick fog, stated that Frederick suddenly ordered the steamer to be put about, and as the boat turned the fog lifted and he saw a rock wall and surf close to the steamer's stern.
On 24th March 1891 Frederick married his second wife, Winifred B. Tucker of Halifax, Nova Scotia. He visited Portsmouth with his wife in July 1894 having visited Portsmouth previously in 1888 when he returned on the City of Rome. It was on his second visit that he offered to adopt his great niece, Harriet Caroline Augusta Styles (named after his sister, but known as Carrie) as his daughter, an offer that was not taken up.
The 1900 US Census showed Frederick and Bridget were living at 1402 Polk Street in San Francisco. Details include that Frederick had emigrated to the USA in 1848 and he had spent 52 years in the US. They have no children. Fred lists his occupation as that of a capitalist! They own their own home/house and it is freely owned by them, no mortgage owing on it.
Frederick Jerome died on 3rd August 1900 at San Francisco. There were no children from either marriage. It is believed his medals were lost in the San Francisco Earthquake as their home was in the very heart of the district that was devastated in the quake. Fred's wife, Bridget, survived the earthquake and died on December 21, 1924 at Oakland, California. A family member recalls her father saying Bridget was once a muscial hall star and that Fred used to like hearing Bridget sing to him.
Norman Douglas Holbrook
Cmdr. Royal Navy, V.C.
(Paternal Line)
Norman was a World War I Victoria Cross Recipient, the first recipient ever from the Royal Navy and the first submariner. Born in Southsea, Hampshire, on 9 July, 1888, he was the son of Colonel (later Sir) Arthur Richard Holbrook, a newspaper publisher and publisher of the Portsmouth Evening News. Four of five Holbrook brothers served in the war, between them earning a VC, DSO, MC and CBE, and their father was knighted for his services commanding the Royal Army Service Corps' training unit on Salisbury Plain. After training on HMS Britannia, Holbrook served on several large ships before being assigned to submarine training in 1910. Holbrook was awarded the Victoria Cross for making the first submarine raid into the Dardanelles, December 13, 1914. From his citation:
"Lieutenant Holbrook was in command of the submarine B.11, an old and obsolete craft built in 1905. Notwithstanding the difficulties of treacherous currents in the Straits, he dived under five rows of mines and torpedoed and sank the Turkish battleship "Messudieh," which was guarding the mine-field. He then succeeded in bringing the B.11 back to the Mediterranean, in spite of being attacked by gunfire and torpedo boats. When they got back to safety the B.11 had been submerged for nine hours."
Holbrook continued to serve in submarines for most of the rest of the war, until he began to suffer severe bouts of seasickness. He requested a transfer to other duties and was assigned to HMS "Glory IV," which had been the Russian cruiser "Askold" until seized by the Royal Navy after the Bolshevik Revolution.
He retired from the Navy in 1920 and afterwards spent most of his time farming and serving as chairman of the family publishing firm. He passed away at his home, Stedham Mill, in Midhurst, West Sussex, on July 3, 1976, at the age of 87.
Among the honours Holbrook was accorded was the unique one of having a town in Australian outback named for him. In 1915 the New South Wales town of Germanton wanted a name that sounded more patriotic. Reports of Holbrook's exploits and his VC were in all the papers, so the town chose "Holbrook," built a park, erected a statue, and even purchased an obsolete Australian submarine to put on display. Holbrook and the town maintained close relations over the years, and after his death his widow presented his medals, including the French Legion of Honor, to the Holbrook Shire Council.
(Bio credited to: Paul F. Wilson)
Joseph Scarrott - Survivor of The Titanic
(Paternal line)
Joseph had signed up as a "fireman" (a boiler room stoker), on the Titanic. Excited that he was hired for the job, he also felt a little apprehensive which was unusual for him. Some would say he might have had a premonition or a feeling that something was not right. His testimony at the Titanic Inquiry was later used to create scenes for the James Cameron 1998 epic movie, "The Titanic". His story was also used in the documentary, "Titanic Explorer - A Historical Journey on the Ship of Dreams" (1997), also by James Cameran. Joseph's "voice" was that of British actor Neil Hunt who played the part of Joseph Scarrott in voice only.
In Joseph's words recalling the incident:
'I signed on the "articles" as 'A.B.' on Monday 8th April, 1912 [sic] (note the total of numbers in the year). The signing on seemed like a dream to me, and I could not believe I had done so, but the absence of my discharge book from my pocket convinced me. When I went to the docks that morning I had as much intention of applying for a job on the Big 'Un as we called her, as I had of going for a trip to the moon. I was assured of a job as a Q.M. on a Union Castle liner, also I was not in low water for "Bees and honey".
When I went home (36 Albert Road) and told my sister what I had done she called me a....... fool. Now this was the first and only time that she had shown disapproval of any ship I was going on. In fact she would not believe me until she found I was minus my discharge book.' I was under orders to join the ship at 7am. Wednesday, April 10th, the time of sailing being 12.0 that morning. The trip was to be a 'speed up' trip, meaning that we were to go from Southampton to New York, unload, load and back again in 16 days. Although it was unnecessasry to take all my kit for this short trip, I did not seem to have the inclination to sort any of it out, and I pondered a lot in my mind whether I should her or give it a miss.
Now in the whole of my 29 years of going to sea I have never had that feeling of hesitation that I experienced then, and I had worked aboard the Titanic when she came to Southampton from the builders and I had the opportunity to inspect her from stem to stern. This I did, espescially the crew quarters, and I must say that she was the finest ship I had ever seen. Wednesday 10th. I decide I will go, but not with a good heart. Before leaving home I kissed my sister and said 'Goodbye', and as I was leaving she called me back and asked why I had said 'Goodbye' instead of of my usual 'So long, see you again soon'. I told her I had not noticed saying it, neither had I. On my way to join the ship you can imagine how this incident stuck in my mind. On joining a ship all sailors have much the same routine. You go to your quarters, choose your bunk, and get the gear you require from your bag. Then you change into your uniform by that time you are called to muster by the Chief Officer. I took my bag but did not open it, nor did I get into uniform, and I went to muster and Fire and Boat Drill without my uniform. 11.45am. Hands to stations for casting off. I am in the Starboard Watch, my station is aft, and I am still not in uniform. My actions and manners are the reverse of what they should be.' '12.00 noon. The order to "let go" is given.' 'Our first port of call was Cherbourg and before we arrived there I had resigned myself to the inevitable and had settled down to my proper routine. After embarking continental passengers and mails we left for Queenstown which was our last port of call before crossing the Atlantic which we hoped to do at record speed.'
(Source: Southend Pier Review, Number 8, 1932)
An extract of his testimony before the British Enquiry:
'I myself took charge of No. 14 as the only sailorman there. The Chief Officer ordered women and children to be taken in. Some men came and tried to rush the boat. They were foreigners and could not understand the orders I gave them, but l managed to keep them away. I had to use some persuasion with a boat tiller. One man jumped in twice and l had to throw him out the third time. I got all the women and children into the boat. There were fifty-four women and four children--one of them a baby in arms. There were myself, two firemen, three or four stewards and Mr Lowe, who got into the boat. I told him the trouble l had with the men and he brought out his revolver and fired two shots and said: "If there is any more trouble I will fire at them." The shots fired were fired between the boat and the ship's side.
The after fall got twisted and we dropped the boat by the releasing gear and got clear of the ship. There were four men rowing. there was a man in the boat who we thought was a sailor, but he was not. He was a window cleaner. The Titanic was then about fifty yards off. and we lay there with the other boats. Mr Lowe was at the helm. We went in the direction of the cries and came among hundreds of dead bodies and lifebelts. We got one man, who died shortly after he got into the boat. One of the stewards tried to restore him, but without avail (1). There was another man who was calling for help, but among the bodies and wreckage it was too late for us to reach him. It took half an hour to get to that man. Cannot say exactly, but think we got about twenty off of the Engelhardt boat ("A")'
Titanic Inquiry Testimonials, Joseph Scarrott, A. B. (Br. Inq., pp. 29, 30)
Note: The man that died was first class passenger William F. Hoyt.
Titanic - A Southampton Story First Hand Accounts
A Personal Narrative by Joseph Scarrot
"The night of April 14, 1912, will never be forgotten. It was a beautiful starlight night, no wind, and the sea was as calm as a lake, but the air was very cold."
"Everybody was in good spirits and everything throughout the ship was going smoothly. All of a sudden she crashed into an iceberg, which shook the giant liner from stem to stern. The shock of the collision was not so great as one would expect considering the size of the iceberg and the speed the ship was going, which was about 22 knots an hour." "I was underneath the forecastle enjoying a smoke at the time. It happened about twenty minutes to twelve o'clock. The shaking of the ship seemed as though the engines had suddenly been reversed to full speed astern. Those of the crew who were asleep in their bunks turned out, and we all rushed on deck to see what was the matter."
When Realisation Came
"We found the ship had struck an iceberg as there was a large quantity of ice and snow on the starboard side of the fore deck. We did not think it very serious so went below again cursing the iceberg for disturbing us. We had no sooner got below when the boatswain called all hands on deck to uncover and turn all the boats out ready for lowering. We did not think then there was anything serious. The general idea of the crew was that we were going to get the boats ready in case of emergency, and the sooner we got the job done the quicker we should get below again."
"The port side boats were got ready first and then the starboard ones. As the work proceeded passengers were coming on deck with life belts on. Then we realised the situation. Every man went to his station. There was no panic, everybody was cool, and when the boats were ready the usual order was given, 'Women and children first.' That order was carried out without any class distinction whatever. In some cases we had to force women into the boats as they would not leave their husbands."
The Origin of the Revolver Shots
"The men stood back to allow the women to pass, except in one or two cases where men tried to rush, but they were very soon stopped. This occurred at the boat I was in charge of No. 14. About half-a-dozen foreigners tried to jump in before I had my complement of women and children, but I drove them back. Shortly afterwards the fifth officer, Mr. Lowe, came and took charge of the boat. I told him what had happened. He drew his revolver and fired two shots between the boat and ship's side into the water as a warning to any further attempts of that sort. When our boat was lowered we had fifty-four women, four children, one sailor, one window-cleaner, two firemen, three stewards, and one officer; total, sixty-six souls."
"When the boat was in the water we rowed clear of the ship. We then saw four other boats well clear and fairly well filled with women and children. We went to them and found none of them had an officer in charge. So the fifth officer took charge of the lot, ordering them to keep with him."
How the Stem Sank
"The ship sank shortly afterwards, I should say about 2.20 a.m. on the 15th, which would be two hours and forty minutes after she struck. The sight of that grand ship going down will never be forgotten. She slowly went down bow first with a slight list to starboard until the water reached the bridge, then she went quicker. When the third funnel had nearly disappeared I heard four explosions, which I took to be the bursting of the boilers. The ship was right up on end then. Suddenly she broke in two between the third and fourth funnel. The after part of the ship came down on the water in its normal position and seemed as if it was going to remain afloat, but it only remained a minute or two and then sank. The lights were burning right up till she broke in two. The cries from the poor souls struggling in the water sounded terrible in the stillness of the night. It seemed to go through you like a knife. Our officer then ordered all the boats under his charge to row towards where the ship went down to see if we could pick up anybody. Some of our boats picked up a few. I cannot say how many.
After that we tied all our boats together so as to form a large object on the water which would be seen quicker than a single boat by a passing vessel. We divided the passengers of our boat amongst the other four, and then taking one man from each boat so as to make a crew we rowed away amongst the wreckage as we heard cries for help coming from that direction. When we got to it the sight we saw was awful. We were amongst hundreds of dead bodies floating in life belts. We could only see four alive. The first one we picked up was a male passenger. He died shortly after we got him in the boat. After a hard struggle we managed to get the other three."
Giving Way to Tears
"One of these we saw kneeling as if in prayer upon what appeared to be a part of a staircase. He was only about twenty yards away from us but it took us half-an-hour to push our boat through the wreckage and bodies to get to him; even then we could not get very close so we put out an oar for him to get hold of and so pulled him to the boat." "All the bodies we saw seemed as if they had perished with the cold as their limbs were all cramped up. As we left that awful scene we gave way to tears. It was enough to break the stoutest heart. Just then we sighted the lights of a steamer, which proved to be the steamship Carpathia of the Cunard line. What a relief that was." "We then made sail and went back to our other boats. By this time day was just beginning to dawn. We then saw we were surrounded with icebergs and field ice. Some of the fields of ice were from sixteen to twenty miles long. On our way back we saw one of our collapsible boats waterlogged; there were about eighteen persons on it, so we went and took them off. We left two dead bodies on it, and we were told two others had died and had fallen off."
A joyful Arrival
"All our boats then proceeded towards the Carpathia. She had stopped right over where our ship had gone down. She had got our wireless message for assistance. When we got alongside we were got aboard as soon as possible. We found some survivors had already been picked up. Everything was in readiness for us dry clothes, blankets, beds, hot coffee, spirits, etc; everything to comfort us. The last of the survivors were got aboard about 8.30 a.m. The dead bodies that were in some of the boats were taken aboard and after identification were given a proper burial. They were two male passengers, one fireman, and one able seaman. We steamed about in the vicinity for a few hours in the hope of finding some more survivors, but did not find any. During that time wives were inquiring for husbands, sisters for brothers, and children for their parents, but many a sad face told the result."
A Tribute to America
"The Carpathia was bound from New York to Gibraltar, but the captain decided to return to New York with us. We arrived there about nine p.m. on Thursday, the 18th. We had good weather during the trip, but it was a sad journey. A list of the survivors was taken as soon as we had left the scene of the disaster. On arrival at New York everything possible was ready for our immediate assistance clothing, money, medical aid, and good accommodation, in fact, I think it would have been impossible for the people of America to have treated us better. Before closing this narrative I must say that the passengers when they were in the boats, especially the women, were brave and assisted the handling of the boats a great deal. Thank God the weather was fine or I do not think there would have been one soul left to tell the tale."
(Signed) J. Scarrott (A.B.) (City Heritage Collections)
Source of Document: http://www.southampton.gov.uk/s-leisure/artsheritage/history/titanic/accounts.aspx
The Black Widow Murderer
One dream of Julian Bazlinton Webb, a young newspaper executive, was to marry for life and have children. He was a home loving fellow who was very conscientious about his health and keeping fit. He enjoyed outdoor pursuits and had a love of spicy Indian food. He met Dena Thompson in 1991 and soon afterwards they were married. Julian was unaware that his "wife" was still legally married to her first husband.
On his 31st birthday in 1994 Julian was dead. It wasn't until the attempted murder of her third husband that the case of Julian's death of reopened in 2001. According the newspaper reports covering the trial, Dena was a "greedy, sexually voracious" woman who had "mercilessly bled money from all three of her husbands and a succession of boyfriends." When she was through with them, the men would be dumped by Thompson, or they vanished, never to be heard from again. She had also stolen thousands of pounds from her workplace.
(Paternal Line)
Knowing Julian would ask Indian restaurants to serve him their hottest dishes, she ground up powerful anti-depressants, nausea pills, aspirins and anti-histamines into a curry she made for his 31st birthday supper on June 30, 1994, knowing the bitter taste of the powder would be masked by the spices in the curries. She called for an Ambulance in the early morning hours of July 1st. When the ambulance crew attended they found that Julian had already been dead for hours. Within hours of his body being taken away by ambulance, Dena went to Julians work place making enquiries about his death benefits and withdrawing his pension fund.
Although Julian's death was suspicious to his family and friends, she insisted he had taken his own life through pills and heavy drinking. Friends denounced this saying Julian was a fitness fanatic who rarely drank alcohol. An inquest into his death recorded an open verdict. It was not until six years later in 2000 when Dena was on trial for the attempted murder of her third husband that the authorities began to investigate her background and into the sudden death of Julian. Police then discovered Dena had given them 13 different accounts into his death.
Dena had wanted Julian's body to be cremated, but his mother Rosemary Webb insisted he should buried at the family cemetery plot alongside his grandparents. His body was exhumed and examined by the coroners office and the results of that examination helped to put Dena, now called "The Black Widow", in jail for life without parole. Police are still searching for the boyfriends that vanished but suspect she may have murdered them also.
Henry Sobey and The Rideau Canal
Henry Sobey is my maternal great, great, great grandfather. He was born 10 October, 1805 at St. Budeaux, Devonshire to William Sobey and Ann Burnett. It's not sure why Henry made the move from Devon to Hampshire, but it was likely during the time was enlisted in the army. Army papers show Henry was attested on 11 October, 1825 at Devon. Although the army shows him as being 18 years at the time, he was actually 20. He joined the corps of Royal Miners and Sappers and spent just over 21 years in the corps, 4 years of which was served in Canada, and 5 years of which was served in Bermuda.
His discharge papers state:
"He has been twice tried by court martial. First at Rideau Barracks on the 24 May, 1828 for being absent part of three days of which he was convicted and sentenced to 27 days imprisonment, 8 days of which were remitted. Second, at Rideau Barracks on the 4 October, 1830 for being absent part of 2 days and being brought back in a state of intoxication of which he was convicted and sentenced to 25 days imprisonment, of which 11 were remitted. He is now in possession of 4 distinguishing marks for good conduct and that his general character is very good."
(Maternal Line)
Henry spent four years serving in Canada during which time he was stationed at Ottawa to build the Rideau Canal. When you think about the conditions the army miners and sappers worked under to build this canal, you can't blame Henry for going AWOL and getting drunk!
Rideau Canal, the lock at Lower Brewers, nearing completion in 1832
The construction of the Rideau Canal was a preventative military measure undertaken after a report that, during the War of 1812, the USA had intended to invate the British colony of Upper Canada via the St. Lawrence. The canal work started in 1826 and it took a total of 6 years to complete by 1832. As many as one thousand of the workers died from malaria, other diseases and accidents. Most deaths were from disease, principally complications from malaria, which was endemic in Ontario with an infestation of the Anopheles mosquito, and other diseases of the day. Men were dying every day during the building of the canal, either due to disease, drowning, poor working conditions, or work hazards. It is amazing and incredible to wonder how great, great, great grandfather Henry ever came out of it alive!!
Henry also spent 5 years in Bermuda mainly working in the stone quarries as part of the army corps of miners and sappers. In Bermuda he was able to bring his family along with him; his wife Mary Ann, and their three sons. While in Bermuda, Henry and Mary Ann had two daughters. Upon their return home to England around 1847, they would continue to have three more children, having a total of 8 children.
About the same time, 1847, Henry's health began to deteriorate and he suffered with chronic rheumatism and vertigo. His army medical report states:
"In the year 1844 when stationed at Bermuda he was much engaged in the stone quarries and was frequently [prone] to sudden chills while in a state of active perspiration, in consequence of which he became subject to rheumatic pains of the shoulders, loins and lower limbs which continue to affect him ... This disability has been caused by his military services."
It was the doctors opinion that because of the chronic rheumatism and vertigo, Henry was deemed "unfit for services and likely permanently disqualified from military duty", but that he "likely be able to find some kind of work in civilian life."
Due to this decision, Henry received a full medical discharge from military service on 13April, 1847. He was 39 years old, 5 foot, 8 3/4" tall, black hair with some greying, had brown eyes "inclined to hazel", and had a fair complexion. He had the initials H.S. tattooed on his right arm was "slightly marked with small pox."
He lived to be 92 years old and died on 10 May, 1898 in Portsmouth. He is buried at Kingston Cemetery, Jenkins Row 4, Grave 26.
Elizabeth Jerome (nee Scarrott)
Murderous 4x Great Granny
(Paternal Line)
My paternal 4x great grandmother Elizabeth Scarrott was born in 1761, the daughter of Joseph Scarrott and Mary Hoblin. She married William Jerome on 10 November, 1783 at St. Mary's Church in Portsea, and together they had 10 children, including Harriet Jerome born about January 1791.
At the age of 23, Harriet Jerome married Thomas Anderson, a sailor in the Royal Navy. The marriage took place on October 5, 1814 at Holy Trinity in Gosport. It is not clear how happy, or violent for that matter, the marriage between Harriet and Thomas may have been, but Elizabeth seemingly felt the need to protect her daughter from him. Only 9 months after their marriage, Thomas lay dead in the street at the hands of his wife's mother and 15 year old brother.
Newspaper reports covering the trial of Elizabeth Jerome and her son George state that Elizabeth had formed a dislike to her daughter's husband and had tried to keep them apart, "frequently with desperate violence", to prevent them from having intercourse. On the night Thomas was killed, 30 July, 1815, Elizabeth had brought Harriet home with her, which prompted Thomas to go to the Jerome house demanding the return of his wife. Elizabeth was prepared for his visit and "had provided an instrument that would for the future prevent him from ever again troubling her." When Thomas came knocking at 1 o'clock in the morning, George Jerome, at the instruction of his mother, fired his gun out of the upper window and killed Thomas instantly.
In March 1816 a jury returned a verdict of manslaughter for George Jerome with 12 months imprisonment and a fine of 1s. Elizabeth surprisingly received an acquittal . The judge was repulsed at the jury's acquittal verdict for Elizabeth and said to her, "Wretch, now my hands are tied, but I consider that it was through your wicked instigation that your daughter's husband was deprived of his existence. I hope you will reflect; and remember, that though you are acquitted by an earthly tribunal, you have yet to appear before the awful tribunal of the Almighty to answer for your sins. Go, go, old woman, to thy home, repent, and sin no more!"