Another fascinating story I've uncovered in my family history research is that I have a cousin who (fatefully) abandoned his post on Titanic in April 1912. 

Charles Blake is my first cousin four times removed, meaning he is four generations away from me in the family tree. He was born on 20 September 1869 to Aaron and Kate Blake, who lived in the New Forest area. He had eight siblings, and was the nephew of George Blake, the now (semi) famous folk singer of Emery Down. His family lived in and around Eling near Southampton, and he is mentioned in the Census records at the age of twelve, in 1881, as a schoolboy.

The next event we know in his life was the death of his father in 1891. Aaron would have been 66 years old, young for us today, but considered a good age back in the Victorian period. He was listed as a general labourer in the census of 1881, and would have had a very active working life. The type of work he carried out is not known, although many of his relatives were labourers in the area and worked around the forest at farms. In any case, Charles' father's death was probably unexpected to the family, who continued on with Kate at its head. 

In 1911 we find Charles living with his mother and older sister (also named Kate), in Rumbridge Street in Totton. His occupation was listed as a Fireman on a steamship, and he was 42 years old. He would have known Southampton Docks well, where ships pulled up for loading and unloading of cargo, and crew lined up to report for duty. A fireman's job on a steamship was a physical one, involving shovelling coal into the furnaces and fuelling both the engines and powering electrical equipment onboard. Coal could also combust in the heat of the engine room and fires had to be put out quickly to ensure the safety of the whole vessel. It was hard labour, and, down in the hot and sticky depths of the ship, would have been uncomfortable work, the men covered in soot and surrounded by the hot, smoky and dusty air. The smoky steam you see billowing out of ships' chimneys during the period came from the work carried out by guys like Charles. 

Royal Navy official photographer, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

On 6 April 1912 a Southampton clerk diligently scrawled a vertical mark, probably with an irritated pursed pout, next to Charles' name on the crew list for Titanic, the ground-breaking new ship launched by White Star Line in 1912. The luxurious new passenger ship was to take its maiden voyage from Southampton to New York in just four days, the city's hotels full of families and their luggage preparing to board. Considered one of grandest ships ever to set sail, it had chandeliers, dining rooms and a sweeping staircase connecting the floors. Crates contained plates and bowls decorated with a teal green and gold border and the dark red flag and gold banner of the White Star Line logo. These were carefully carried on board to the first class kitchens as passengers took in the sights of Southampton's ancient medieval walls and prepared for their journey. 

But Charles, who had secured a job as a Trimmer onboard Titanic, was nowhere to be seen. He was 42 years old, single and living with his mother and sister, not far from the docks. The records show that he 'failed to join', but do not give the reason why. Could he have been enjoying a few beers the night before reporting for duty and missed the calling time? Was he ill and unable to work? Or did he simply choose not to take up his position, perhaps feeling an unexplained knot in his stomach? 

A Trimmer was a different role than Charles was used to. Whereas he was used to shovelling coal into the furnaces of steam ships, the job he was to fulfil on Titanic was to assist the firemen, by moving the coals around the ship in wheelbarrows and putting out any fires that accidentally began there. It was still hard and heavy work. 

Whatever the reason, we can only imagine Charles and his mother's reaction when, on 15 April 1912 reports began to trickle in that Titanic had tragically sunk in the Atlantic Ocean, slashed through its hull by an immense iceberg. There were 73 coal trimmers onboard, and only around 20 survived its sinking. Their odds at survival were not great, being so deep in the ship's belly and their work needed to power the electrics during the rescue process and lifeboat launching. It has been estimated that around 1,500 people lost their lives in the tragedy of that night. Charles would almost certainly have learned of the sinking with a shudder and the 74-year-old Kate would have hugged him a little tighter. 

On 9 December 1914 Charles married Edith Rose Bolt at St Mary's Church in Eling. He outlived his mother Kate, who died in 1924, and his sister, who died in 1932. Charles and Edith were still married and living together in 1939, where he is listed on the Census of that year as a Retired Fireman on a ship, aged 70. In that year they lived in Southampton on Broadlands Road, close to the River Itchen. 

Liked this? You might also like: Southampton's Lost Castle, The Southampton Conspiracy of 1415 and Tracking the Southampton Raid of 1338.

Never want to miss a post? Subscribe to my newsletter here: 

From my own family history research, 2026.

It's 1895 and a writer diligently records the legend of a 'phantom' at Tadley Place in Hampshire, belief in which is, he says, 'universal amongst the peasantry of the neighbourhood'. Villagers tell stories of the random and violent opening and shutting of doors and windows, 'unearthly' sounds and a group of phantom mourners at a spectral funeral at St Peter's Church, that quickly vanishes on sight. 

The source of all these unusual events was believed to have been the imposing figure in life of Sir Henry Ludlow, a man whose trace in the historical record only serves to underline the legend of his fearful and tempestuous character in death.

The Ludlows were prominent royal servants during the medieval period, and had acquired the village of Tadley through the marriage of William Ludlow and Jane More in the early sixteenth century. The estate, in which the considerable building of Tadley Place was the family's residence, passed through various heirs and ended up in the hands of Sir Henry Ludlow, born in 1577. 

As expected for a young heir to a wealthy and established family, Henry embarked on a formal education at the University of Oxford, graduating there at around the age of fourteen in October 1591. He had a large family of siblings and half-siblings. His father Edmund first married Bridget Coker and they had three sons (including Henry) and seven daughters. After his second marriage to Margaret Manning he fathered a further four sons, one of whom, Edmund, was killed during  the Siege of Corfe Castle during the English Civil War. Later, one of Henry's descendants would take the Parliamentarian side of the war against Charles I and the Royalists, voting for the execution of the king in 1649.

Frans Hals, Merrymakers at Shrovetide, 1616-1617, Metropolitan Museum of Art (no portrait of Sir Henry exists so this one of the period is added for context)

He was also associated with a flagrant display of disrespect, when he farted loudly in a display of arrogance during a meeting of Parliament. The episode inspired a comedic poem, The Fart Censured in the Parliament House, where in reaction to a speech made by Sir John Crook, 'Harry Ludlow's foysting Arse cry'd no'. The poem pokes fun at the event, detailing each MP's reaction in turn, but it ultimately showed a disregard for authority and his fellow council.

In December 1630 Henry was in trouble with the courts over a payment he had previously been ordered to settle. His son Edmund and Edmund's wife Elizabeth had petitioned the council in January of that year for Henry to pay an annuity to Henry's mother-in-law Dame Margaret Ludlow. The court, after consideration, believed that he should pay up. In November, Elizabeth and Edmund appealed to the Hampshire Assize, stating that Henry had still not paid, and that Edmund was now imprisoned as a result of the debt and Elizabeth 'is in much distress'. Despite Edmund languishing in prison, Henry chose not to acknowledge the council's order until 26 July 1632, when he sent £75 towards the outstanding debt of over £200, telling them that he had previously offered Edmund £25 but the couple had refused it, saying they didn't want the money 'unless they have all'. Henry pointedly told the commissioners that 'if they had followed his directions', they could have 'compounded most of the debts for which he is prisoner'.

On 14 November 1634 he was under scrutiny again, this time for 'misdemeanours and oppression', charges brought against him by Tadley residents. They accused Henry of withholding wages, causing them to incur further costs travelling to London to seek help from the council. When anyone approached Henry, they were met with 'reviling and threatening words', along with taunts that he would employ people to lie against them in court. This wasn't Henry's only brush with perjury, the residents pointing out helpfully that he had already been fined £500 for 'subornation of perjury' in 1606 during the reign of James I. He also pulled down, presumably without permission, 'ten or twelve houses in Tadley and Pamber', including one named Church House, the rents for which were used to keep the twelfth century Norman church in good repair. The following day, the case was heard in the Star Chamber at Westminster, and Henry was ordered to pay the residents their debts, plus their travel expenses, although some of their more 'doubtful' claims remained pending until 'further proof' was provided. 

I can find no trace of these payments being fully settled, but in any case, Elizabeth Merryweather was still not satisfied seven months later. She petitioned the council on behalf of money owed to her now dead husband Stephen on 7 June 1635. The council ordered Henry to appear on 25 June for a hearing and to settle the dispute. However, Henry wrote to say that he had urgent business to attend to in Wiltshire, because his clerk there, Luke Simpson, was near death and he had to reach him in time to settle his own affairs before he died. The clerk of the court, Thomas Willis, suspected this was a lie, although Simpson had actually written to Henry telling him that he was very ill and didn't expect to live. In any case, Henry's reputation preceded him, and his actions were called publicly into doubt, to the horror of both Henry and Simpson, who wrote to the council to soothe doubts over his reputation. Simpson, who had now recovered, gave his own version of events, but the matter was still unresolved in February 1636. In 1639 Henry wrote to Thomas Willis, telling him that he was still refusing to pay Elizabeth's money, and that 'if I owed these people anything they should not need to trouble anybody to seek after their own, but the opinion that they have that they may obtain anything they demand of me has put them on to attempt this by the assistance of one Diggs, who is a stranger to me'. Painting himself as the victim of a conspiracy to extract money out of 'greedy' villagers didn't work, and the council, once again, ordered him to pay up. However before Henry could settle any of his outstanding legal or financial business (or continue to dodge demands) he died, just a few months later. His son Edmund inherited his estates at Tadley and conveyed them in 1641 to a member of the well-known Reading-based family, Joseph Blagrave.

Henry Ludlow's trace in the sources shows that he was a hostile land owner and resident, safe in his luxurious mansion while villagers petitioned for debts owed to them. He had no regard for authority, was stubborn to the end and many would have dreaded having to deal with him. However he is one of the often-forgotten characters of the Elizabethan and Stuart periods, and his story shows how self-importance and hostility could affect others. He impacted residents that depended on income for their livelihood and to feed their families, and forever changed the landscape of Tadley by demolishing buildings which were never rebuilt, close to the ancient St Peter's Church. Even worse, modern historians believe that these buildings may have been traces of the old medieval settlement that initially sprang up around the church, now lost forever, the site today documented as a Deserted Medieval Village. 

Liked this? You might also like 7 Historic Events That Happened in Hampton Court and Elizabeth Dormer, the Tragic Countess of Carnarvon.

The era that Henry and the residents of Tadley lived through was one of immense change, and I explore the period in my third book Power Couples of the Renaissance. It features relationship dynamics that went against accepted norms of the period and power-hungry couples who ruled, fought and spread the patronage of art, science and culture across the globe during one of the most tumultuous periods of history. Find it on the Pen and Sword Books website. 

 Sources: 

The Victoria History of the Counties of England, edited by William Page, F.S.A. A History of Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, Volume 4. 1900, p220.

Transactions of the Newbury District Field Club, edited by Walter Money, F.S.A. Volume 4. Northbrook Street, Newbury 1895. 

The Muses Recreation, Volume 1, John Camden, 1874. 

My quest for discovering the lives of forgotten medieval women continues. This week, I discovered in an old printed source the story of Margaret Mallefaunt of 1439. 

Margaret lived in Wales during the early reign of Henry VI, who had inherited the throne aged just nine months old when his father Henry V died unexpectedly overseas on a military campaign. We might think of lawlessness during the Wars of the Roses which fractured into action in the 1450s. But as it turns out, there were already threats being posed to women earlier in the period. Margaret's case was debated in the parliament of that year where Henry's councillors listened to her petition.

Margaret, who was the wife of a soldier named Thome Mallefaunt, complained about 'Lewse Leyson alias Lewse Gethei late of Glamorgan in the Marches of Wales who was in the lyf of her husband most trusted of any man near to him'. Lewse offered to take Margaret to see her mother, Jane Astley, knowing of her husband's recent death but keeping it a secret from her. Margaret agreed, knowing he was one of her husband's best friends, and they set off from her home in Pembrokeshire. Soon after their journey began he handed Margaret 'a counterfeit letter declaring Griffith ap Nicholas and divers other enemies lay in wait for her'. Continuing the journey, they changed course and eventually came to a park called Park le Bruce in Gower. It was here that Margaret was ambushed. The Lord of Gower burst out of the park with a group of armed men, having conspired with Lewse himself to seize her. They 'came with swerdes drawen and made a great affray and assalt upon the said Margaret, and yer smoten herr upon hur arme, and yer beaten hur servantes etc. and had her forth ynte the Monteyns, yer kept her without mete or drink 'till she was nigh dede, seeing that she had wheye to drink att diverse places till the wendisday nexte after, at which day he brought her on Gilbert Turbevoyle's place with ynne ye Lordship of Glamorgan & hur ther kept a prisoner'. The account states that she was 'menaced' while imprisoned and coerced to marry Lewse. 

Mourning Woman, Netherlands c1480. Met Museum, Public Domain.

Sadly the kidnapping of wealthy widows did happen during the medieval period, and Margaret was not the only one. Margery de la Beche of Beaumys Castle in Berkshire was forced to marry a man against her will in 1347 having been widowed twice. Early in the sixteenth century Muriella Calder of Cawdor Castle in Scotland was also kidnapped in an offender's attempt to marry her into his family. Medieval and Tudor law stated that the wealth of a couple rested legally in the husband's hands. It was entirely possible for a wealthy woman to marry a man and the husband sell her lucrative estates. We can only imagine Margaret's disbelief when she realised she had been seized by her husband's loyal friend who would have been known well to the couple. 

The petition also states that Gilbert Turbevoyle's wife was also involved in the conspiracy, helping Lewse to achieve the immoral marriage. It mentions that 'complaint is made of the working and assent of the said Gilbert and his wife, and with the governance of one Sir Hough, Vicar of the church of Twygeston in Wales with many more, brought and led the said Margaret to the said Church of Twygeston, and there would have make her against her will to take the said Lewse to husband the which she ever refused'.

With the now-widowed Margaret reeling from shock, treachery and fear, her refusal to co-operate only escalated the situation. She was imprisoned at Gilbert's home in Twygeston 'in to a chamber within a strong Towr'. There, she was 'ravished' by Lewse 'against her will', probably in a last-ditch attempt to try to argue that their union had been consummated. Then, 'she with wise governance' was brought from there and taken to her mother in London. It seems as if with this last statement someone discovered what had happened to Margaret and rescued her. After listening to the petition,  those present ordered Lewse to appear in Somerset, where the case was to be tried, to explain himself. 

Margaret's story is brutal and shocking but only goes to show how the early laws around marriage and property left room for the appalling and violent treatment of widows by greedy predators. It is even more heartbreaking that this was devised by a man who she and her husband had known and, for all she knew, was faithful and loyal to them both. I haven't been able to discover what happened to Margaret next, but she seems to have been taken to safety and her attackers held to account for their actions. Her story makes difficult reading for us today but it does reveal the dangers widowed women could be subject to in the medieval period. 

You might also like: Elizabeth Dunham, the Women Who Stole from the Bank of England and The Medieval and Tudor Brothels of Southwark. 

Interested in medieval women's history? Especially the forgotten ones of history? My first book explores the roles of women from all sectors of fifteenth century society and the impact they had on the Wars of the Roses conflict. Order your copy here. 

My second book, Power Couples of the Tudor Era, published by Pen and Sword Books, explores the contributions sixteenth century couples made to their own times as well as how they influenced our own. Order your copy here. 

Source: Archaeologica Cambrensis, 1846 via archive.org

Going to visit a Medium for reassurance, closure or help is not something that would get you into trouble today. I see lots of requests for their services on local Facebook groups, and have even been approached by one offering to help me with researching forgotten people and historic sites. But in the late sixteenth century, receiving information from the spirit world could trigger accusations of witchcraft, which was a very serious thing. 

Elizabeth Dunlop lived in the Scottish region of Ayrshire, in a village called Lyne in the sources, but might refer to the area of Lynn Glen today. The married woman was in her 40s or 50s when she was hauled up in front of local interrogators for practicing witchcraft. Elizabeth, or Bessie as she was also known, revealed that she received information from the spirit world, specifically from a deceased gentleman named Tom Reid. Bessie maintained that Tom had been killed in battle at the Battle of Pinkie in 1547, part of the conflict we know today as Henry VIII's and Edward VI's 'Rough Wooing'. The conflict focused on putting pressure on Scotland to marry Mary, the young Mary Queen of Scots, to Henry's son Edward VI, to unite both crowns. It was unsuccessful. 

Woman Kneeling, Giovanni Battista Trotti, Met Museum, Public Domain

Bessie did not raise attention about her dealings with Tom, one commentator stating that she 'had nae kind of art nor science sae to do;’ and regarded it, at least after a while, as a normal occurrence. Bessie told investigators that Tom was 'ane honest, weel, elderly man, gray-beardit, and had ane gray coat with Lombard sleeves of the auld fashion; ane pair of gray breeks and white shanks [stockings], gartenit aboon the knee; ane black bonnet on his head, close behind and plain before; with silken laces drawn through the lips thereof; and ane white wand in his hand.' She said that she met Tom while she was travelling from her home to a yard in Monkcastle with her cattle, while her husband and child both lay sick. She did not expect her child to survive, and was herself exhausted from doing all the work for the family. Tom, she said, met her in the road or lane she was walking on, greeted her, and asked how she was. She told him her story, and he answered that she had annoyed God by doing 'something you should not have done'. He told her that her husband would improve, but her child would die, along with her sheep and cow. Tom then 'went away from me in through the yard of Monkcastle; and I thought he gaed in at ane narrower hole of the dyke nor ony eardly man could have gane through; and sae I was something fleyit [frightened].’

Tom appeared to Bessie often after that, showing her how to cure the sick using roots of plants, creams and powders. She treated the locals, along with their animals, always crediting Tom with giving her the information on how to help them. He also helped with lost belongings. The Lady Thirdpart of Renfrew (I can't verify this person), was said in the source to have come to her asking her to track down some gold and silver, and after Bessie spoke with Tom 'within twenty days, she sent her word wha had them; and she gat them again.’ 

One day Tom asked Bessie to go with him to 'Fairyland', and she confessed to having seen him many times in public, usually at around midday. She saw him in the market in Edinburgh's High Street, in a churchyard and at Restalrig Loch, where she saw a large group of riders heading into the water noisily. Tom hold her they were fellow spirits. Sadly, although it seems that Bessie helped many of her local residents, her talk of the supernatural reached the ears of authorities who regarded it with suspicion and fear. She was 'found guilty of the sorcery and other evil arts laid to her charge' and was 'consigned to the flames'. 

Today, whether you believe in the power of spirit Mediums or not, they are a source of closure, reassurance, and for many, faith. The Victorian writer Robert Chambers however, regarded it as 'hallucination, the consequence of diseased conditions'. Our sixteenth-century ancestors saw it as something far more worrying. Today, Bessie would not have received such a fate,  but lived in the suspicious and volatile world of the sixteenth century, where diversion from the accepted form of religion was viewed with absolute fear. 

Like this? You might also like Elspeth M'Ewen, The 'Witch' of Balmaclellan, Scotland; Strange Monsters of the Scottish Lochs 1500-1635; and the Coronation of Anne of Denmark, Queen of Scotland.

Bessie Dunlop lived during an age where medieval ideals were challenged and in many cases, dismantled. Find out more about her time in my third book, Power Couples of the Renaissance. It features relationship dynamics that went against accepted norms of the period and power-hungry couples who ruled, fought and spread the patronage of art, science and culture across the globe during one of the most tumultuous periods of history. Find it on the Pen and Sword Books website. 

Source: The Domestic Annals of Scotland by Robert Chambers, 1885.