Three generations, a “curse” – and a question about who chooses who goes where.
Betty Hirst has appeared in some of our stories before – her daughter Ann became Ann Livsey, we learned about her husband John Lord’s career via the story of her mother in law Martha, and probably there are countless other Lords whose stories touch on hers already. Unfortunately Betty’s story is a very short one, because we can’t be certain of her origins. We know she was born around 1796 in Langfield and that she married John Lord Jr. (who we will shortly stop referring to as such for obvious reasons) in March 1826. On the balance of probability she’s likely the daughter of John and Susan Hirst of Mankinholes, and if so then she was baptised at Cross Stone in March 1796. Her marriage came a little late but it was a smart one to make, with her husband already profiting greatly off his own and his family’s hard work.
Betty had six children in twelve years, starting with Hannah in 1827 and ending with Edward in 1839. All six were still alive by 1841 and then 1851, which wasn’t bad, considering that as is pointed out on the Todmorden and Walsden Rootsweb site, the Lords had a habit of dying young. Betty was widowed in 1854 and, just like his father, John chose to be buried at St. Mary’s. Just like her mother in law Martha, Betty was left to fend for herself grave-wise. And so when Betty died in 1858 her children bought a family grave here on the slope, facing down towards the school path, and she was buried here.
If anyone else went into this grave at any point, their names aren’t recorded. In the meantime Betty’s children were growing up and starting their own families, and this included her son John. John was on track for doing very well for himself. He had caught the eye of Priscilla Haigh of Gauxholme, a weaver, herself the illegitimate daughter of John Greenwood and Mary Haigh. The couple got a little too friendly and in 1847 their first child, a boy named Edward, was born. Edward’s life was a short one and he died in 1849, and was buried at St. Mary’s. John and Priscilla finally got married in 1853 and the couple lived first at Omega Street in the town centre, in houses that would have had very few luxuries beyond maybe a little bit of space and light – but that was the Lord family way. Children had to work for their keep and not rely on inheritance. Nepotism was only going to work if you made an effort! John did make an effort. The couple had their son John in 1854, then Herbert in 1857, Emily in 1863 and Annie in 1865. John’s work started to pay off and the family moved to Cliffe Villas at Hanging Ditch next door to John’s brothers Thomas and Samuel. These houses are still there today up near the top of Longfield Road and all three seem to have been purpose built for the three families.
That Lord family curse though…it existed before this and it would exist for generations after, but in this branch of the family the curse hit young John first. In October 1870 he died at the age of 16 (not 17 as it says on the stone here). Surprisingly to us at least, he was buried with his grandmother who he would have had only the vaguest memories of. It couldn’t be because they couldn’t afford a new grave of their own, so must have been more about making sure she didn’t rest alone. Which is a lovely sentiment, but makes their subsequent decision to purchase a separate grave space for themselves fourteen years later interesting. Why not rest with Betty as well?
By the way, this Lord family curse; someone with a wad of spare cash and the time to sit and order all the relevant digital scans could probably figure out if there was a hereditary illness in the family that kept rearing its head. We think there was, although there could have been more than one. In young John’s case here it was “paralytic convulsions” that led to his death at such a young age. According to his death registration he had been experiencing convulsions since he was a year old.
One does wonder if Betty was especially close to this one grandson, maybe had a special fondness for him because of his apparent disability, and this was why they buried him with her. Alternatively John and Priscilla may have been a little ashamed of him, or wanted to keep his illness hidden. John’s death wasn’t mentioned in the newspapers which seemed strange given his family, but then, every family has secrets they don’t want talked about. Maybe this was one of those types of secret. Maybe Edward’s death registration would help us. Or maybe Annie’s…because when you look at her name on the census, she too is repeatedly referred to as an imbecile. And she wasn’t old when she died either.
(Anyone have a spare wad of cash and some free time lying about?)
Having said all this, none of John’s brother’s children have such a cruel to today’s reader descriptor attached to their names on a census, so it might have been bad luck due to childhood illnesses or an unlucky combination of genetics from the Lords and Haighs. John and Priscilla had to make do as so many parents of children with disabilities must. They were luckier than many because of John’s work at Canal Street and his family wealth, but it’s notable that while Thomas and Samuel Lord were busy in local politics John was relatively quiet. The only public position we could find him occupying was the jury list. Same with Priscilla – no lunching with ladies or sitting on committees for her. The couple had a servant but only a “general domestic” one so Priscilla and Emily (because it’s always the girls) were taking on whatever amount of additional support Annie needed.
In 1884 John died with little fanfare, and while Herbert stayed behind to get married and continue on in the family firm (he’s buried at 38.0), Priscilla, Emily and Annie set off for Southport. Priscilla died there in 1890 and was brought back to be buried with John. Emily stayed on for a while with Annie, living off her own means, until Annie’s death in Southport in 1893 at the age of 28. Poor Annie was brought back here to rest with her parents. Not the grandmother she never met, of course, but the parents who could have palmed her off to a nurse, or sent her away to live in an institution…but didn’t. One of their children ensured that the three had a splendid monument although someone fudged it at the end; the plinth once had a large granite urn on top of it, but at some point H&S dictated that it be removed as it was unstable. It was unstable because it has no trace of cement below it and no pins to hold it in place! At least it’s too heavy to steal…
