Beardsworth Auld

Such a memorable name. I vaguley knew Beardsworth came from around Deal, so it was quite natural when we arrived in Appledown, Tory, Charlie and myself, we mentioned his name in passing. The detective work began with Simon, who had noticed in his fathers, Gerald Kellett’s, comprehensive address book, the multiple entries for Beardsworth Auld.

Lees Cottage, Liverpool Road, Walmer
Greenways, Hawksdown, Upper Walmer
Robins Roost, St James Road, Kingsdown

Of course, everyone is dead now, there is no one to ask. Here is what I recall of Beardsworth Auld, mainly hearsay from my mother.

Margaret Kellett, the only daughter among 4 sons of Louisa and Leornard Kellett, married a man called Cecil Rainier. That is fact. What is hearsay is that Cecil was a homosexual, that the marriage was deeply unhappy, and at some stage, Margaret found a friendship / an admirer / a lover in Beardsworth Auld.

I met Beardsworth Auld twice in my life. The first was at the funeral of Gerald, in which on the way to the funeral and travelling at funeral slow pace, Beardsworth Auld famously crashed into Peter Brewers car, which went into Simon’s car, which went into the hearse carrying the body of Gerald. I vaguely recall being left at the Petrol Station for the funeral as presumably all had to fit into the limited working cars, and i was considered superfluous.

The second time as at my boarding school (New Hall, Boreham Chelmsford Essex), when out of the blue, Beardsworth rocked up, and did the unthinkable, got permission from the head, SMFrancis, for me to leave with him that day (usually 2 weeks notice and forms for leave to fill in). No safeguarding then! He drove me up in his Humber motor car – I recall his head only just above the steering wheel – stopping at Thetford Forest for a picnic which he laid out on a fold up table with a table cloth and set a place for me, with boiled eggs on the menu. He did not eat himself. He then drove me to 35 Quebec Road, a good 2 and a half hours, where he knocked on the yellow front door to find my mother, shocked to see us both. “As this is unexpected” Beardsworth explained, “I have bought you a chicken and some paxo stuffing, so you will have enough food anyhow”. And with that he left. How old was I? About 10 perhaps, and Beardsworth would have been late 60’s or 70.

With his last address. and back at our base Appledown, (Kingsdown), a google search revealed his full name Edgar Beardsworth Fox Auld, and some basic listings.

IMW. Born 10th October 1893. Source: Officers who served in the Royal Air Force (RAF) between 1912-1920. This record set contains records of around 100,000 RAF officers. So he served in the first world war.
My Heritage Violet Mary Auld, had 2 siblings one of which was Edgar Beardsworth Fox Auld
London Gazette His death announcement, which intriguingly lists the solicitors, and the person to contact J Little. John Little my godfather. How did he know Beardsworth? But can I recall a connection with Tinks?

Additional information from some work done by Douglas Aylward on Richard Kelletts life, gives these bare bones: So Beardsworth received financial benefit from Louisa, the mother of Margaret and Ross.

2 Apr 1953

Louisa Isabel Constance Kellett (nee Somers), aged 81, died at St Anthony’s Hospital, Cheam, Surrey.

Death Record Vol 5g page 204 – Surrey

Probate: London dated 8 Jun 1953. To Edgar Beardsworth Fox Auld (retired company official) and Ross Kellett (solicitor). Effects £5091. 19s.8d

1956/2	Ross Kellett, son of Leonard and Louisa Kellett, married Barbara J Wright in Norfolk.		One daughter Rachel C Kellett
12 Mar 1956	Margaret Wilhelmina Rainier (nee Kellett) died in Norfolk. Buried in East Dereham Cemetery	Find a Grave Index Register.	Probate: Norwich dated 3 May 1956
1957	Rachel C Kellett, daughter of Ross and Barbara Kellett, born in Norwich	Birth Record Vol 4b page 1022 – Norwich
1960	Ross Kellett died (heart attack)

…..

On my early morning walk down to Kingsdown village from Appledown, across the newly cut grass fields, I thought: here I was at the very place of Beardsworths death in 1980, surely someone here may know him? Coming down to the pebble beach, I passed a happy gathering of swimmers coming in and out of the sea with their dry robes at the ready. It was, however, the 2nd group of morning swimmers who I stopped, and had the good fortune of finding 3-4 women with open minds, curious and willing to help. No use asking at the pubs, they said, but you could try Ian Williams, he is the local historian who lives in the house on the beach. Enter the property by the front door, not from the beach side. Indeed he lived in an idyllic (on a day such as today) home, his front garden the beaches pebbles with Keep out Private property defined. He came to the door in his dressinggown, and once he understood my need, suggested I search various census documents all on line.

However, as I was walking away from the 2nd swimmers, one Sue Larnoon called out to me, she had returned deliberately keen to tell me: Try Sylvia Main, I don’t know her address but she is on the corner of the x and y. She will be more welcoming.

And she was. As soon as I entered the back gate i knew I was in a place of beauty. Huge beech and pin trees (not pollarded as is the fashion down here), a rambling garden semi wild, a wheel barrow at the ready for the days attention. ‘I’ve just got to find to the donkey’ she explained to me, after i’d relayed my reason as a stranger knocking on her door on a Sunday morning. Jacob the donkey was indeed eager to see her, and receive the food she had prepared earlier together with some leaves cut. Aged 27, he looked most content here in her garden, despite the laminitis.

On the way to the Church to consult the records, she collected her tortoise which had been inside for the chilly night and how would have the warmth of the days sun in his/her run. The church was still in service, so we knocked at the door of the known elder, a woman perhaps in her 80’s or 90’s, whose son was preparing his Talbot vintage car for an outing. She remembered the name, but nothing further. The church records contained no mention of Beardsworth Auld.

So we are left with a possible recollection from Sylvia herself. She came to Kingsdown in 1955, but left after 5 years and returned in 1965. She definitely remembered the name. Her recollection was of the gloved gardener. But this could also be a mix of memory, however, I do recall Beardsworth being a gardener from some distant memory.

Outside the church we met her son, to find the classic 5 degrees of separation. He had a boat in Woodbridge and knew the Bartlets.

I bid farewell to Sylvia on her way to the village hall. She was one of the villages centers, and I admired her brightness and energy, and felt that by chance I had met an extraordinary person. Who should I meet on the way back, in one of those random ways, but Sue Lmoon, on her bicycle, who was on her way back from her own detective work and finding Appledown to leave a note there, as my email had not arrived. This brief encounter was a delight.

The whole experience was a bit like that of the book The Snow Leopard, in which two scientists climbed into dolpo, the annapurna mountain range to seek out the snow leopard. Non was found but the book was best seller.