Lives may be cut short in untimely fashion. Their stories may be short; sometimes made more poignant by that brevity. This is one such story.
Background
On the 21st June 1890 the East and South Devon Advertiser reported “Fatal Carriage Accident at Teignmouth”. Mrs Elizabeth Lewarn of Plymouth had been staying in Teignmouth with her family for the benefit of her health. On the previous Saturday, 14th June, she had been enjoying a ride out in a “donkey-chaise”. She had just reached the Den. Meanwhile a local doctor, Dr Piggott, was in his horse and carriage doing his usual rounds. He had reached Brunswick Place when the horse bolted and hurtled uncontrollably down Brunswick Street towards the Den. The inevitable happened. The carriage crashed at top speed into the donkey-chaise. Mrs Lewarn was thrown out, suffered severe injuries and died within the hour.
Five years later it was the Western Daily Mercury that announced another “Teignmouth Fatality”. On Friday 5th April 1895 Albert Tapp had collected a 5cwt load of coke on a pony and trap from the gasworks for delivery to the bakehouse in Wiley Lane. He left the pony and trap unsupervised outside the bakehouse whilst he carried the coke inside. The pony bolted and ran down a young child, Dorothy May Sampson, who was killed instantly.
Do you believe that fate may stalk some people? One person links these two events – James Heller of 43 Parsons Lane. He owned both the donkey chaise and the pony trap. He also bore witness to another fatality – the death of his sister, Emily Martha Heller, in the previous year on February 5th 1894.
This is Emily’s story.
Emily is buried in Teignmouth Old Cemetery and we found her grave recently whilst clearing section N. The grave had been prepared for the interment of two people and the headstone does also commemorate her sister, Ann Susannah Partridge, who died the following year in Port Elizabeth, S. Africa. The burial records though do not show her buried here.
The story of Emily’s tragic death featured in a number of newspapers across the country, with some sensationalised headings.
Emily was aged 38 and had been employed for nearly ten years as a lady’s maid in South Kensington, London. She was single although when her brother James was asked by the coroner at her inquest “Do you know of any love affair?” he confirmed:
“Yes sir. She has corresponded with a young man for some years. He was a first-class petty-officer in the Royal Navy, and they were engaged to be married. When he left Teignmouth for the last time to go to sea he promised to write to her, but he did not do so, and this seemed to prey upon her mind. There was no insanity in the family.”
The last sentence wasn’t quite true, but let’s go back a few years to trace her journey from Teignmouth to London.
Early Years
We start with the 1851 census when an Emily Martha Heller (aged 2) lived with her family at 25 Bitton Street. The family was: her father William, a ‘sawyer’ (an occupational term referring to someone who saws wood, particularly using a ‘pit-saw’ either in a saw pit or with the log on trestles above ground, or operates a sawmill); her mother Agnes; and three siblings – the eldest Frances Ann Louisa (aged 10), then James Bryant (aged 8) and a second sister Ann Susannah (aged 5).
This wasn’t our Emily Martha Heller though. This Emily died the following year and her parents had another daughter in 1855 whom they also named Emily Martha – the Emily of our story. Perhaps our Emily was now already carrying a mental burden of being named after a dead sibling?
By the time of the 1861 census Frances, now a dress-maker, was about to marry Samuel Griffin-Benney and leave home, although still living in Teignmouth. Another brother had come along – William John Heller, aged 9 – and the family was now living at 4 Park St (?).
By 1871 the family had moved to Coombe and Ann had left home too. Like so many unmarried women of that time she had entered service and was now a general servant to the family of George Hester, a maths teacher, also living in Coombe. A mystery appears in the census too – there is a two-year old girl, Kate L, described as a grand-daughter. Could this have been the illegitimate daughter of Ann, or conceivably of Emily? Ann seems to have married a Henry Partridge about three years later. He was a POIC (Petty Officer In Charge) on board HMS Topaze (and may well have been present at the scene of Agnes West’s anecdote described in her book ‘Life among our Blue Jackets’ – see Annex at the end of this story). Ann, Henry and Kate then disappear from the records until Ann’s death in 1895 in Port Elizabeth South Africa is marked on Emily’s headstone.
Emily seems to have followed Ann’s route into service. By 1881 she is shown as a lady’s maid, one of four servants, to Mary Toler living at ‘Oakley’ on New Road (This was the large Victorian building which now forms part of Trinity School. The adjacent photograph, 1947, gives some idea of the splendour of this residence).
It could be a complete coincidence but that same year William Smith Nicholson, retired captain of the Cameronians 26th regiment, together with his daughter Helen Maude and her own lady’s maid, Aline Carboy, were staying nearby in lodgings in Tormoham. (As an interesting aside Capt Nicholson was the cousin of Florence Nightingale). It was about three years later that Emily moved to their household in London as Helen’s new lady’s maid.
Her departure for London seemed to coincide with the death of her mother who had been committed to the ‘Devon County Lunatic Asylum’ in Exminster at least three years earlier and died there in the third quarter of 1884 (perhaps contradicting brother James’ assertion that there was no insanity in the family?). Her father died in 1892 and even though she seems to have returned to Teignmouth off and on it appears from her brother James’ statement that she was also in anguish about the disappearance from her life of the petty officer to whom she was engaged.
We can’t know exactly why she decided to take her own life in 1894 but there had obviously been ongoing traumas which could have affected her and we don’t know why her own mother had been committed to the lunatic asylum – perhaps that overly weighed on her mind too. Our only insights come from the reporting of the inquest into her death. Here is one version of that from the Portsmouth Evening News of 9th February 1894:
A LOVE TRAGEDY
SAD SUICIDE OF A PETTY OFFICER’S SWEETHEART
On Thursday evening at the Kensington Town Hall, Mr. C. Luxmore Drew, the West London Coroner, held an enquiry concerning the death of Emily Martha Heller, aged 38 years, a lady’s maid, in the service of Miss Nicholson (daughter of Captain Nicholson), of 5, Mansion place, South Kensington, who committed suicide on Monday under circumstances of a somewhat romantic character.
James Heller, of 43, Parsons street, Teignmouth, identified the body as that of his sister, whom, he said, he last saw in August last.
The Coroner: Do you know of any love affair?
Witness: Yes, sir. She had corresponded with a young man for some years. He was a first-class petty officer in the Royal Navy, and they were engaged to be married. When he left Teignmouth the last time to go to sea he promised to write to her, but he did not do so, and this seemed to prey upon her mind. There was no insanity in the family.
Eliza Long, cook at Captain Nicholson’s, said she had worked with the deceased for over ten years. She was always well, except for occasional attacks of indigestion which affected her nerves. She was greatly depressed in consequence, fearing she would lose her situation. Deceased never spoke to witness of her love affairs, but when her niece told witness of her disappointment she was very cross and upset. Deceased appeared perfectly sane, and had never threatened to take her own life. On Monday morning at about half-past eight o’clock witness went to deceased’s room and found her lying on the floor on her face. She was undressed, and groaning heavily. Thinking she was in a fit witness called for assistance. She knew the deceased kept a quantity of salts of lemon, which she used to take ink stains out of linen. A glass containing a white sediment was on the table at the side of the bed.
Eliza Goodman, housemaid, said that the deceased had never threatened to take her life.
Captain Henry Herbert Nicholson deposed that the deceased had resided with the family for nearly ten years, and was a good servant. He knew nothing of her mental condition or of her love affairs, and had never noticed her being depressed or strange in manner. They were on the best of terms, and it was merely her fancy that she thought he had noticed her demeanour.
The Coroner said a number of letters had been left behind by the deceased. They were all couched in the same terms, and one addressed to Miss Nicholson read as follows:
“Sunday, Feb 5th – Madam – I am sure I am mad or I should never do what I am about to, but I feel I cannot live. I have had very strange ideas in my head lately. I am very unhappy, but the doctors can prove I am a respectable woman. No-one is the same to me lately; Captain Herbert looks at me in a very strange way, and I am sure he thinks there is something wrong with me, but thank God I have never been let fall in that way. I have done things I am very sorry for now. I ask of you to forgive me.” After referring to the kind treatment she had always received at the hands of her mistress, the letter continued: “May God forgive me for what I am about to do, but I cannot live. I hope and trust that poor dear Captain Nicholson (father of the previous witness) will recover. I am sure it will make you very happy. May you all forgive me and think of what a poor, unhappy woman I am. Oh, great God! This is a dreadful thing I am going to do; but I cannot live. Good-bye. From your poor, unhappy servant, EMILY HELLER.”
Dr. R. D. Brinton attributed death to oxalic acid poisoning, which was undoubtedly self-administered.
The Jury returned a verdict of ‘Suicide whilst of unsound mind.
Emily’s body was brought back to Teignmouth where she was buried in plot N135. The epitaph on her headstone reads “Our days upon earth are a shadow”, part of a quotation from Job8:9 “For we are but of yesterday and know nothing, for our days on earth are a shadow”.
Family Loose Ends
From the limited information available it would appear that the family in general had more than their share of tragedy.
Her mother Agnes we know died in the Devon lunatic asylum at Exminster. She and her husband William are buried together in the cemetery in plot N52.
Her eldest sister Frances died a widow in the work-house at Wolborough, Newton Abbot.
Her brother James and his wife Elizabeth had no children, presumably because they were unable to have children. They adopted two girls though and are buried together in plot HH38 with the younger of their adopted daughters, Lily May. Their elder adopted daughter Henrietta died in 1970 and is buried in S86 under her birth name Henrietta White together with M A White (died 1888) who was presumably her birth mother.
Sources and References
Extracts from contemporary newspapers are referenced directly in the text and are derived from British Newspaper Archives.
Ancestry.com for genealogy
Wikipedia for general background information
Other sources, with hyperlinks as appropriate, are as follows.
Epitaph on headstone: https://biblehub.com/job/8-9.htm
Capt Nicholson and Florence Nightingale: https://lifeandtimesofflorencenightingale.wordpress.com/family-history-2/nicholson/
Acknowledgements
Thanks to one of our volunteers, Geoff Chetfield, for discovering and clearing the grave.
Thanks also to Rosemary Booth, archivist at Teign Heritage Centre, for digging out the information about Oakley and the photograph.
ANNEX: HMS Topaze reference
The ship is notable for an incident when Agnes Weston came on board to plead the cause of Temperance; as she recalled in her memoir ‘Life among the Bluejackets’.
“The Captain of H.M.S. Topaze invited me on board, and the men were mustered on the main deck; they listened very attentively. When I had finished speaking I asked the Captain, ‘Whether any men that wished it might join the Royal Naval Temperance Society?’ He gave a cordial assent, and my eyes roved round to see on what place I could put the pledge-book. I saw what I thought to be a bread tub standing not far off. ‘Could I have that bread tub?’ I asked; ‘it would make a nice little table turned over.’ I saw the Captain smile and tug at his moustache, and the men seemed on the brink of bursting into laughter. ‘Yes,’ he answered, ‘anything that we have is at your command. Here, men, a couple of hands roll over that grog-tub.’ “
Apparently the 60 man crew all signed the grog-tub. The incident is undated in Agnes Weston’s book but probably occurred between 1873 1nd 1877 which corresponds to the time that Henry Partridge was on board. I wonder if that tub is still around today bearing the signature of Henry Partridge?
According to Wikipedia, “Dame Agnes Elizabeth Weston, (26 March 1840 – 23 October 1918), also known as Aggie Weston, was an English philanthropist noted for her work with the Royal Navy. For over twenty years, she lived and worked among the sailors of the Royal Navy. The result of her powerful influence is evidenced in the widespread reform which took place in the habits of hundreds of men to whom her name was a talisman for good. In her day, one man in six in the navy was a total abstainer. Weston’s work included her monthly letters to sailors, Ashore and Afloat, which she edited, and the “Sailors’ Rests”, which she established in Portsmouth. She was the first woman given a full ceremonial Royal Navy funeral”.
Teignmouth Old Cemetery 