The “twins” of Waterloo

As more and more old newspapers become accessible online, these have become a treasure-trove for crazy folk like me who love nothing better than delving into the obscure, weird or wonderful stories from the past and then going off to try and find out more about the people involved. Sometimes there is much to be found, other times the trail goes cold.

A group of death notices and obituaries following one upon the other in the Carlisle Journal of 22 February 1845 provide a snapshot of a variety of people who had their 19th century equivalent of “fifteen minutes of fame” and for very different reasons. 

This is the first of them. Normally, this story would be more pertinent to my other blog on women, The History Bucket, but is included here as a complement to the other lives that I will explore in coming months about this group of people from various walks of life who all happened to go off to meet their Maker around the same time in 1845.

Were twins born on the field of Waterloo?

“On the 29^th ult. [January], aged 67 years, Mrs. Letitia Scott, Murray Street, Oldham Road [Manchester]. She was a soldier's wife and gave birth to twins (girls) on the field of Waterloo, both of whom are still living.”

This triggered many questions. Could this be true? What on earth would that experience have been like for a woman - going through what could have been a complicated birth on this most famous of all battlefields? Did this happen at the time of the battle or afterwards?

The female experience of war during this era is notoriously difficult to research, not just because it was never officially documented but like all personal war stories is open to the problems of memory inaccuracy and myth.  A recent book on the topic by Annabel Venning, Following the Drum – The Lives ofArmy Wives and Daughters Past and Present has gone some way to enlightening us, but much of this feminine history is shrouded in mystery and especially as it pertains to the Napoleonic era.

I did glean some information about Letitia Scott, although I knew not to expect much. I surmised that having served in this famous battle, there was bound to be a lot of information available on her husband, via the Waterloo Medal Rolls and other well-documented resources.  Sure enough, I soon determined that he was Corporal William Scott of the 95th (Rifle) Regiment, or Green Jackets – now a popular regiment with re-enactment groups and also in the famous Sharpe novels. I also discovered that his medal came up for auction in 2005 and sold for £3,300 - a sum of money that would have completely beyond all comprehension for William and his family.

As to the Waterloo births, two entries do appear in the Army GRO birth indices for 1815 but they are both for a Mary A. Scott born St. Amand (Waterloo area) - a clerical error which may account for the “twins” story perhaps. 

Further research via family researchers on Ancestry and elsewhere show baptismal details for two girls born two years apart, and before and after the battle date of 15 June 1815.  Mary Ann was born on 23 March 1815 and Margaret 17 July 1817. 

One family tree states that Letitia was born Letitia Borr in Ireland in 1779, but that seems to be all there is on her origins.

Letitia and her husband William appear in the 1841 Census Return, living at 31 Murray Street, Manchester. The conditions in which they lived must have been dire and extremely cramped as there are 13 other individuals listed for this address. William is now a labourer, and both of them are aged 60. There is a son, also William and a labourer, aged 20 and one daughter “Maria” Scott, whose age of 25 would indicate that she is probably Mary Ann. A toddler and a baby are also listed, obviously grandchildren.

We can presume that William and Letitia Scott worked in tough conditions in industrial Manchester as everyone else in that area would have done. William lived to a grand age considering how hard his life would have been in first the army, and then the mills. He died in 1864 aged 85. In the 1861 Census Return, he was shown living with Mary Ann, whose birth is simply noted as “France. British Subject.” Not exactly correct, as in 1815 Waterloo was part of the Netherlands, and is now in Belgium, but that's a minor technicality and should not impact on the romantic notion about her birth that may very well have been much cherished or proudly boasted of in the Scott family. Mary Ann herself died in 1869.

Of what happened to her “twin” sister Margaret, there is nothing. Perhaps she died young or married and just disappeared into the great throng of Manchester mill life.

This caricature from this website for a re-enactment group for 95th Rifles. Note that all the women seem to have twins, or more!

Modern photo of Murray's Mills, Manchester.

Men behind the miraculous pills

There is nothing new in the search for miracle cures for ailments or diseases nor in the number of individuals keen to exploit the vulnerability and desperation of others.

As mass communication grew during the Victorian age there were countless advertisements in newspapers and periodicals for pills, ointments, tonics, and devices for curing everything from gout and gastric upsets to hair loss and even cancer. Despite some attempts to regulate the medicinal trade, quackery abounded. 

Curious about the people who were behind these products, I decided to investigate some of the advertisers in just one column taken at random for the 1880s [The Sporting Times].  I conducted various searches, including the 1881 Census Returns, in an attempt to discover which products appeared to have been made by respectable individuals or companies, and which were spurious. Here is the column:

(1)       The Red Cross Pills 

From the 1881 Census, M. Leon Schouver stated he was born France abt. 1846, occupation Chemist, and wife Norah, born Spain abt. 1852, and they lived in a lodging house at 14 Little Titchfield Street, Marylebone.

Obviously they were transient and no fortune had (as yet) been made from their cure-all. Other residents included a dress-cutter, cheese-monger, upholsterer, tailor and a porter. The couple do not appear again in any later UK census returns, or at least not under that name or variations thereof, although there is a death of a Leon Schouver in West Derby, Lancashire, in 1916.

Curiously, Leon Schouver’s name comes up at the Old Bailey as a witness in a counterfeit case involving a young man using dodgy half-crowns to buy seidlitz powders from a number of chemists around the city. Other than that, it would appear Leon disappeared along with his pills.

(2)       Clarke’s B 41 Pills

The London and Midland Counties Drug Company of Lincoln was a substantial and respected pharmaceutical business and “Clarke’s World-Famed Blood Mixture” had been around for quite a number of years. According to its advertising blurbs and testimonials it cured everything you could think of, including gout, rheumatism, dropsy, ulceration, ringworm, itchy skin eruptions, sluggish and obstructed veins, etc. etc.

Clarke’s B 41 pills became a staple as well, but whether they did you any good is another matter. What was the significance of the 41? The number of ingredients, or the birth year of Clarke perhaps, as the entry in the 1881 Census shows: Francis J. Clarke, Chemist, aged 40, and his wife Betsy Ann, aged 38. They lived at Bracebridge Hall, Lincoln, had four children at home and a staff of seven. They had done all right for themselves. Clarke was four times Mayor of Lincoln but it seems his various potions didn’t benefit him personally as he was dead by age 46. 

The impressive Bracebridge Hall can be read about here and some images of the famous ointment seen here. Also the Aboretum Lion presented by F.J. Clarke to the city of Lincoln.

Clarke’s Blood Mixture Bottles (www.bottledigging.org.uk)

(3)        The Book of Positive Special ...

This is some kind of self-help medical publication. Other more detailed advertisements used a lot of big block letters describing it as a self-cure for both men and women. SIXTY THOUSAND INVALIDS CURED ... FOUR THOUSAND TESTIMONIALS GIVEN … [which means fifty-six thousand individuals didn’t feel it warranted a testimonial]. 

With the aid of this book - written by a retired doctor of course - presumably H. Smith, the same name as the publisher - you can CURE DISEASES PECULIAR TO MEN - CONSTITUTIONAL OR ACQUIRED and FEMALES can cure themselves of their PECULIAR MALADIES WITHOUT THE AID OF A MEDICAL MAN. And so on.

As this booklet is stated to have run to thousands of copies, it is strange that I have been unable to find a single one available for inspection. 

Also, there is nothing to be found on what exactly was the “Protodyne Laboratory”, but there were many other products connected with H. Smith & Co. of 26 Southampton Row, including more miracle pills and ointments. At least in their favour, H. Smith only seems to be charging for the postage and not for the booklet itself, although it probably includes plenty of advice to buy lots of Smith’s Ointment to keep yourself healthy.

Finding the correct doctor with the surname Smith in the Census 1881 is impossible and he is  most probably an invention in any case.

(4)        Nervous and Physical Debility

And what to make of the mysterious J. T. Sewell, Esq. of Brook Villa, Hammersmith? Is he a gentleman prepared to part with his method of curing nervousness just out of the kindness of his heart and for the price of a stamp, or is there more it – a scheme of some kind to suck in customers in a marketing scam 19th Century style? 

He splashed blanket advertisements for about four years in many newspapers, but then abruptly disappeared. Searches for a “Brook Villa” at Hammersmith and with the surname Sewell have no results in the 1881 Census. Although it might be worth noting that both a large prison and a lunatic asylum were in this vicinity.

(5)      Jockeys, pedestrians and athletes

Please see (2) above re Clarke.

(6)       Nevill’s Miraculous Pills

Again, many miraculous cures are promoted by Nevill, the inventor of “Pepsanator”.

No entry exists for a William S. Nevill in Croydon in the 1881 Census, although there are a number of men of the same name in the Surrey area, including a labourer, plasterer and a bricklayer serving time for Her Majesty. 

Could it be this was a sideline for a certain Mr. William Nevill, aged 38, who lived at 150 East Street, Epsom with wife, Bertha, and two children? His occupation is Turf Correspondent (Reporter) - not one that held much respectability but may have equipped him with the capacity for colourful hyperbole when it came to advertising.

Here is a letter written by him to The Sporting Life ten years earlier in relation to his Pepsanator. [There is no convincing match for W.S. Nevill to be found in the 1871 Census for Surrey either.]

If the Pepsanator name was trade-marked as stated, there could be more records to be found in official archives. The wholesalers all seem to be genuine companies (one was a publisher) but the advertisements cease by the end of the 1880s and nothing further can be found on this particular William S. Nevill.

There was an aristocrat with this same name who was involved in various frauds during this period and served time in prison and perhaps our Pepsanator Nevill changed his name as a result or simply moved on to other enterprises. 

For the serious student of this topic, this book on pharmaceutical historical records might be useful. But in a lighter vein, there is more to be discovered at these websites and blogs:

http://www.victorianlondon.org/lee/website.htm

http://thequackdoctor.com/

http://virtualvictorian.blogspot.com.au/2010/03/quack-doctors-and-wondrous-potions.html

An "impression" on a king

The Chubb lock is something that seems to have been around forever and pondering the origin of the trade name, I came across an odd and amusing statement that is mentioned in the official history here on the company website and with slight variation in other places, such as this statement from a website devoted to Wolverhampton:

The Chubb lock supposedly became popular as a result of the interest generated when the Prince Regent accidentally sat on one which still had the key inserted.

"Prinny" would have made an impression on any chair

It is well known that the Prince Regent (George IV) was almost the size of a brick outhouse, but what was he doing sitting on a lock in the first place? What were the circumstances?

The Oxford Dictionary of Biography is prosaic about the story -

The detector lock rapidly became regarded as the best of its kind, and was recommended by the Admiralty, but the popular legend about its success arising as a direct result of the prince regent’s sitting on it during a visit to the docks is unsubstantiated.

Apocryphal perhaps, but more colourful detail can be found in this Australian newspaper article from 1951 in which the origins and history of the Chubb lock since 1818 were told by a descendant, the Hon. George Chubb. The article varies somewhat from other references but tells more about the episode with the Prince Regent.

Not only did it [the lock] defy the lock pickers, but it also told its owner, in some mute fashion, if an attempt had been made to pick it.
At the same time there was an epidemic of thefts of naval stores at Portsmouth.
George III [sic. IV] heard of Charles Chubb’s lock, and summoned him to Portsmouth for a demonstration (the monarch was at the time living aboard the Royal yacht).
Charles Chubb arrived with his lock, was ushered into a cabin, and instructed to await the arrival of the King. He placed his lock on a nearby chair, and started to wander round the cabin, examining the pictures.
While he was occupied in gazing at the seascapes, King George swept into the cabin and sat down right on top of the lock.
‘It’s an old joke in our family that that lock made such an “impression” on him that he granted us a Royal Warrant, which we’ve had ever since,’ said the Hon. George.

The article also tells how Chubb’s fame was sealed by the time of the Great Exhibition of 1851:

One of the great attractions of the exhibition was the Koh-i-noor diamond. It lay winking and glittering in a fabulous sort of birdcage, mounted on a pedestal-safe.
This strange contraption (reported Family Herald on May 31, 1851) ‘protects the Koh-in-noor diamond and two smaller diamonds. At night, on the touch of a spring by the custodian, these precious gems sink into a massive iron box of impregnable strength, prepared by Messrs. Chubb, and fall into a pedestal of solid masonry’.

The diamond cage at the Great Exhibition of 1851

Although the company has evolved and moved beyond locks and keys into security generally, everything else you might want to know about the Chubb family, its business in Wolverhamptom, and its locks in general can be found here:

http://www.chubbarchive.co.uk/

http://www.localhistory.scit.wlv.ac.uk/Museum/locks/gazetteer/chubbs.htm

http://www.wolverhamptonhistory.org.uk/work/industry/lock_making2

The Napoleon of Sweet Scents

A question on early cosmetics on a recent TV quiz show sent me scurrying to find out about Eugene Rimmel, the founder of Rimmel Cosmetics. 

Image NYPL Digital Gallery

As with an earlier blog about Dison's lace, my search took me on various diversions beyond discovering that the first factory-made mascara, hair dyes and mouthwashes were all pioneered by Rimmel in London from the mid-19th Century. 
The Oxford Dictionary of Biography states that he was born in France in 1820 and served as an apprentice under his father (Hyacinthe Mars Rimmel) in London.
At the early age of 14 he established his own shop and laboratory at Gerrard Street, Soho, later moving to 96 Strand. Other branches were at Cornhill and in Regent Street, as well as in Paris. 
His father was declared bankrupt in 1837 and his partnership with his son was later dissolved, although it is not known whether this was amicable or otherwise.
Rimmel also claimed to be the first perfumer in England to use female labour and he eventually held 10 Royal Warrants including that of Queen Victoria.

Rimmel's "Toilet Vinegars" were very popular throughout the Victorian era and he also specialised in gift packs, scented Valentine cards, cushions and other perfumed objects. 
A case of his perfumery was displayed at the 1851 Great Exhibition described in one newspaper ... 

"... at the centre of which is a beautiful little fountain sending forth delicate jets of eau de cologne with which the obliging exhibitor permits ladies to perfume their handkerchiefs". 

The famous French artist Jules Cheret designed for Rimmel

At the 1862 International Exhibition, Rimmel first encountered the pungent essential oils such as Australian eucalyptus and he successfully experimented in using these in toilet soaps and perfumes, although they proved to be a hazard as the Strand premises burned down in May 1875, the fire thought to have started in the huge quantities of these oils and other spirits stored on the premises. 
Rimmel was a great friend of the exiled French author Victor Hugo, often visiting him in his exile in Guernsey, and was fully fluent in English and French as well as various other languages. He translated Shakespeare into French and also wrote the Book of Perfumes and Recollections of the Paris 1867 Exhibition, both of which are profusely illustrated and can be found in various online free book websites.
The "Napoleon of Sweet Scents" as he was known, died in 1887 and his obituary in the Aberdeen Journal had little regard for how he made his money, but focussed almost solely on his altruistic side.

"He was the life and soul of every work which had for its object the amelioration of the condition of the afflicted and the poor."

and

"He was the most modest as well as the most charitable of men. Though decorated with the Cross of the Legion of Honour, and with other insignia, he never wore them in public except when it was compulsory, and whenever possible he suppressed the mention of the honour."

He received this Legion of Honour in March 1872 from the President of the French Republic, not for his contribution to commerce or perfumery, but for founding the French (Shaftesbury) Hospital and other work on behalf of French and other foreigners in London. He also founded the Bureau de Bienfaisance (later Société Française de Bienfaisance) in Poland Street. He set up a fund to support the Society of the Professors of French. 
Although he died in London, Eugene Rimmel was buried in his family's vault at Varenne-sur-Seine.  His sons took over the business and the name continues to the present day, although it is now owned by Coty. Read more here.
This vintage Rimmel mascara currently for sale at Etsy.

The Rimmel name and products can be found all around the world.  A couple of bottles said to be Rimmel from city archaelogical excavations can be seen at the Melbourne Museum.
Bottle 1. Bottle 2.


These images of Rimmel cards from the Fotolibra Collection

Before you could say "Herman Boaz!"

Following on from research into forgotten female magicians on my other history blog, I came across several advertisements in late 18th/early 19th century newspapers that sent me scurrying for the dictionary.

Back then you didn't go to just some illusion or magic show, you went to an "Hurlophusicon and Thaumaturgick Exhibition" and were amazed by a self-acting Horologium machine powered by means of an Alhadida and a Cathetus and then had your thoughts transferred by Steganographical or Paligenesia operations not to mention experiencing Pixidees Metallurgy you probably would never forget ...

The perpetrator of these fantastically descriptive shows was one Herman Boaz, also known as Sieur ("sir" in Old French) Boaz and although he performed throughout Britain, he seems to have made Scotland his main base.

The Magicpedia entry on him is disappointing - and with inaccurate dates - and seems to conclude he was "small fry", yet the number of advertisements and articles about his exhibitions and displays in newspapers and magazines from 1777 onward would suggest he was very popular. 

Even late in the 19th Century many years after his death, tales or reminiscences by people who met him or saw his fantastic shows were still being published. 

Some of his more bizarre acts included a hen that laid twenty eggs in a row on a table in front of the audience and the withdrawing from the innards of a hot "roasted jigget of mutton" cards on which ladies in the audience had earlier written their thoughts. One wonders what state the cards would have been in?

An early advertisement, Hackney, London, 1788

Well into the 19th Century he was still at it. Cheap One Shilling seats in 1788 had inflated to Two Shillings by 1804 (about £3.40 in modern money).

Note the weird and wonderful words of the many "curious operations" in this next announcement that also included "Pyrotecknomancy with a Variety of Chartomantic Deceptions" in which will be found much to improve the mind, including a "most useful lesson to youth in against the pernicious and fatal consequences of gaming". What a pity there were no movies in those days, as the mind can only boggle at what it was all about!

From Caledonian Mercury, December 6, 1804

Boaz died in straightened circumstances in Edinburgh in his 84th year in January 1821 as this obituary in Blackwoods Magazine relates ...

... and the following is an advertisement for a benefit on January 19, 1821 to raise funds to help Boaz's widow. 

Note actress Mrs W. Barrymore.  No connection however to those other stage Barrymores, as according to Wikipedia on Maurice, the patriarch of the American family, he "borrowed" the surname - probably from the husband of this same Mrs W. Barrymore.

No images can be found of Herman Boaz but other searches have located a Marriage Bond for his marriage to Elizabeth Killick in Surrey in 1774, also a romantic rebus poem on the city of Bath that he wrote to Craftsman Weekly that same month, and a note of his contribution in 1806 of three guineas towards the erection of a pillar to Lord Nelson at Edinburgh. 

There doesn't seem to be any Mrs Boaz listed in the Scotland's People archive and if he had any other descendants, they have done the usual disappearing act.

Some publications:

• The Angler's Progress, a poem about fishing.
• A book on the art of juggling, published 1826.
• Several references to Boaz in this online book, The Magical Imagination in England.
• A more notorious conjurer rival and contemporary of Boaz was Gustav Katterfelto, the subject of a recent book Katterfelto: The Prince of Puff by David Paton-Williams.

POSTCRIPT!


The second little advertisement attached to this Boaz one from 1801 captured my attention in that it informs me, by permission, Polish Nobleman, Count Boruwlaski, only 3ft 6ins high, 62 years old, is now available to receive company at Mr McRorie's at East Side for only One Shilling. His memoirs in French will cost you another Five bob.  No extra charge for English translation.

After reading his Wikipedia entry and some swift research, I realise I probably walked right past the Count's resting place when visiting Durham Cathedral last year and apparently his little grave can be seen near the main door, marked by a stone only 15 inches square that simply reads "J.B."  


Oh why did I know nothing of you before, dear little Count, you are just one of the reasons why I so love the quirks and serendipitous discoveries while digging in the dust of history.

More on Count Josef Boruwlaksi in Durham here and you can read those five bob memoirs for free at the Internet Archive.

Dison's. Her Majesty's Laceman

Update to previous post. From The London Illustrated News of 18 August 1849:

EXTRAORDINARY BARGAINS, until SEPT. 25^th, at DISON’S, Her Majesty’s Laceman; when the shop POSITIVELY CLOSES. The lease being disposed of, it passes into another business. Twenty-seven years of Dison’s occupation of them is enough to guarantee the superiority of the articles left on hand, from which an immense reduction has been made. N.B. No. 237, Regent Street.

Buckingham Blonde Laceman

When researching history in old digitised newspapers, one comes across a plethora of weird and wonderful classifieds that vary from the slightly amusing to the outright hilarious, or even incredulous. If it wasn’t so time-consuming, I’d seriously think about a new blog featuring a collection of these old ads but I’m sure there are many other folk out there already doing similar. Instead, I’ll occasionally just select one at random and see if there is something historically obscure worth investigating in it.

The words in bold type, BY HER MAJESTY’S COMMAND and BRITISH BLONDES caught my eye in one from The Morning Post, of 17 February 1832. My mind racing with inappropriate explanations, I soon realised it was perfectly innocent and a careful reading revealed the Blondes to be a type of lace sold by London lace-maker, Henry Dison.

To learn more, I was off on quite an adventure.

I dipped into the pros and cons of bobbins, and machine-made lace vs. the hand-made variety. I visited (virtually) Honiton, Devon, and the Lace Market in Nottingham.

I found that British industry was in a precarious state in the 1830s and that the royal ladies of the day – Queen Adelaide, the Duchess of Kent and her daughter Princess Victoria (later Queen) - were all great supporters of British manufacture and showed the government up by insisting on the women at court wear British-made clothes.

I even ended up perusing law notices dissolving business partnerships to a trial at Old Bailey resulting in the transportation of an unfortunate Thomas Norrington to Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania) for robbery.

And this is what started it all:

The advertisement is one of many similar placed in British newspapers in the early to mid 19th Century by lace merchant Henry Dison, either on his own or in partnership with others. 

The relevant London Gazette notice referred to was as follows:

Office of the Vice-Chamberlain to the Queen, Queen’s House, St. James. February 9, 1832.  NOTICE is hereby given, that the Queen's Drawing-Room, on Friday the 24th instant, being for the celebration of Her Majesty's Birthday, no presentations will take place.It is particularly requested, that all Ladies attending the Drawing-Room will appear in dresses of British manufacture.

I wonder how they decided the Ladies were wearing British manufacture when they arrived at the Drawing Room. Did they have to provide labels as evidence? Was a particular lady-in-waiting seconded to check with a magnifier for evidence of Continental as opposed to British lace? What happened to any unfortunate woman who failed to heed the royal decree?

There are a number of engravings and prints available showing Dison’s shop in Regent Street, the originals done by Thomas Hosmer Shepherd.  In these from a collection at www.motco.com, if the images are enlarged, the name Dison can clearly be seen over the shop to the right on the corner of Princes Street, bearing the royal warrant and with a couple of loiterers and what looks suspiciously like a woman begging out on the steps. I couldn’t imagine her being tolerated for long by such an up-market establishment!

Another view, with the shop shown in the middle in front of the dome.

What happened to Dison’s - or Henry Dison - eventually? I have yet to find out although the shops of Regent Street have changed countless times since his day. At least it’s all still about fashion, with a Karen Millen store now on the same corner where that woman once sat.

A bit of British Blonde and fashions of the Court ladies who probably frequented Dison's.

Links related to this blog:

From the Old Bailey online - the trial of Thomas Norrington featuring Henry Dison.

http://www.oldbaileyonline.org/browse.jsp?id=t18310512-11&div=t18310512-11 

Norrington's death sentence was commuted and he was transported to Van Diemen’s Land:

http://www.convictrecords.com.au/convicts/norrington/thomas/105134

Various on lace-making and the history of:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blonde_lace

http://www.koshka-the-cat.com/royal_magazine3.html

http://www.laceguild.demon.co.uk/index.html

http://www.honitonmuseum.org/index.php?page=lace-making

http://seabastian.hubpages.com/hub/History-of-Lace-Making

http://www.laceforstudy.org.uk/

For the really serious student of lace, check out this booklet produced by Dress & Textiles Specialists in association with the Victoria & Albert Museum

http://www.dressandtextilespecialists.org.uk/Lace%20Booklet.pdf