Today has been cold and it grew dark rather earlier than I expected. Sitting at the writing desk I gazed at this little collection of conkers and acorns - a reminder of Autumn which is slowly departing to make way for Winter. . .
The leaves of the oak tree outside the window have already changed from green, to yellowish green, to orange, to a coppery brown. Soon they will fall away and be no more.
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| This Photograph was taken by Kirk Dale |
This set me to thinking about people and the things that are left behind when they have died.
Tangible things.
The many photographs that we take our ourselves and our family - what will become of them? Will they survive the years after we have gone?
What will become of our earthly reminders?
* * * * *
A couple of years ago I was spending a pleasant Sunday afternoon, strolling through e-bay (as one does) when something caught my attention: A silhouette.
It looked like this:
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| This Photograph was taken by Kirk Dale. |
A fairly standard, early-to-mid nineteenth century silhouette.
The name of the sitter was on the back: Susannah Coulcher.
And there was a short biographic note which stated that her maiden name was Bohun, and that she died in 1842:
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| This Photograph was taken by Kirk Dale. |
I liked the fact that this was not an anonymous piece and decided that I might like to put a bid on it.
Was she a descendant of the great de Bohun family? If the answer was 'yes' then she would be related (extremely distantly) to me!
Having spent some time in idle contemplation of the piece and its possible history, I continued my stroll when my eye was arrested by another silhouette:
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| This Photograph was taken by Kirk Dale. |
Another standard early-to-mid nineteenth century type except that this one was a little worse for wear with a cracked glass and a lot of brown staining of the previously white paper.
This silhouette also had a note on the back:
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| This Photograph was taken by Kirk Dale. |
Rev. George Coulcher.
Interesting.
Taking a second look at Susannah's silhouette to make sure, I was able to confirm that not only did they have the same surname but they were being put up for auction by the same seller.
I suppose it makes business sense to sell these as separate items when one is wanting to make as much money as possible on the sale; but to me it seemed a travesty because a quick look at some suitable records showed me that George and Susannah were in fact husband and wife.
That settled it.
I could not let them be sold, separated, to end up goodness-knows-where, when in life they had been together.
It would be in my opinion extremely bad form and so I did the gentlemanly thing and placed bids on both of them.
AGA is more sensible than I when it comes to bidding on ebay and so I asked him to be in charge as I often get cold feet and put unrealistically low bids that fail.
And so it came to pass that George and Susannah ended up with us, in our bijou apartment where they are living most comfortably.
And here is what I have found out about them:
Once upon a time there was a man named George Coulcher.
The son of the Rev. Martin Coulcher and his wife Elizabeth; he was born at Little Plumstead, Norfolk and baptised at the Parish Church of St Margaret, Lynn, on the 10th of November in 1805.
(Those of a literary bent might recognise the name Plumstead. In the Barchester Chronicles, Anthony Trollope gave this name to the place where Dr. Grantley lives.)
Anyway, George followed the usual path. He finished school and was sent to University and from there became an ordained clergyman in the Church of England.
Just like his father.
Now that he was set up, with a living (or perhaps two) of his own, it was high time that he married.
It is possible that his was an arranged marriage as his father, and the bride's father, were neighbours. It was the year 1838 and his bride was Susannah (sometimes known as Susan) Bohun, the daughter of a certain Squire Bohun. I want to say that his first name was George too but I forget.
Susan and George resided in Cambridge and it was here that their son George Bohun Coulcher (1842-1912) was born. He would eventually become Vicar of Maidstone which is interesting because a relative of mine was also a vicar of Maidstone, but at a later date.
However, after only a few years of marriage, in the early part of 1842, Susan died possibly of some illness associated with the birth of her son George Junior.
George Senior was now alone with at least one child and his pastoral duties to take care of.
He remarried: But not right away. I like to think that he missed his wife and could not think of any one taking her place. Perhaps this is why he retained those silhouettes, making sure that they were kept together. Perhaps, after his death, his son inherited them and then? Who knows . .
Anyway, eight years passed before he again walked down the aisle, his bride being Sarah Jane Hawtayne (1813-1902) because a responsible Clergyman needs a wife to help him with his duties.
George ended his clerical career as Rector of Wattisfield in Suffolk where he rebuilt the rectory as well as helping to fund a new Church school. He died at Wattisfield in 1863.
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| This Photograph was taken by Kirk Dale. |
George and Susan are long gone. These silhouettes, like autumn leaves, are a faint reminder of what they had been.
I am so pleased that I have been able to keep them together when others would have parted them.
