I don’t know when I first heard the family folklore about Dad’s ancestry. I know I wasn’t a young child, because I remember going up to Whittlesey several times for family weddings, and meeting my Uncle Ernie and Aunt Alice. At least I thought they were my aunt and uncle. So it must have been later – when I was old enough to make sense of it, and after Granny Gobby – Dad’s mum – had died.
So I was told the story – that Dad’s mum had been ‘in service’ in a big house in London, and became pregnant through the master of the house, and been sent away to have her baby, which she had named Algernon Frederick. Dad had not realised till later that his brothers Leonard, Laurence and Ernest, and sisters Elsie, Hettie and Hilda were actually a generation older than him. And his other sister, Rose, was actually his mother, and the woman who raised him as an infant was actually his grandmother.
The story supposedly explained why a boy born to simple farming folk in the Cambrigeshire fens would end up being christened Algernon, a name more suited to one of those bright young things of the English gentry of early 20th century. And whatever stigma or sense of betrayal that may have existed obviously passed with time. Rose later married a man named Archibald Gobby, and had two more children, Rene and Edgar. In later years she lived with Rene and her husband Cyril in Streatham, South London and I remember spending time with her when we visited them. I also remember Dad receiving the telegram when she died, and the modest bequest Dad received from her estate.
Dad never seemed to have any interest in digging into the mystery, despite the fact that throughout his life, he never knew who his father was. I guess even today that is not a terribly unique position to be in, and unless there is some specific medical reason that family genetics need to be investigated, then can it really matter ?
By extension, I have no idea who my paternal grandfather was, and have experienced no existential disturbance through this lack of knowledge. However, I have on occasions wondered. Perhaps us siblings have some claim on the estate of a rich nobleman ? But mostly from a sense of curiosity, I felt I would like to know more about this bit of family folklore. There are so few skeletons in the Willimer family closet, that this might be the only thing that makes us seem memorable. But with so few of the players left to share any details, it would be difficult to put together a plausible plotline, let alone get a definitive answer to the mystery. So what do we know ?
In conversation with Mum over time, I had gleaned a few more facts. Rose had been working in a big house in South London – Kensington she believed. During the period in question, Rose had gone missing for a period, and turned up in Coates 5 weeks later with a baby. We know that Dad was born in Kennington (a much less salubrious area of London than Kensington !) but not exactly where. Mum said there was talk that Rose had been in a nursing home for young mothers before returning home. And then there was the curious incident of the chauffeur – a short man in a uniform with an expensive car, who had been sent to take the child back to London for some monetary consideration. Rose’s sisters stepped in and forcibly prevented the abduction.
The only other piece of the folklore was a suggestion as the name of the mysterious father figure. Mum had heard the name Sir Algernon Ely or Eli (or something similar) who was a prominent Jewish businessman. Over the years I’ve googled these possibilities, but found nothing even remotely fitting the bill for the relevant period. But perhaps with more and more tools available on the internet, along with a subscription to Ancestry.com, we might get a little closer to an explanation.
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