Eureka Moment
A whispered conversation in an air-raid shelter revealed the truth behind a longheld secret in Sarah Fuller’s family. She has proved that her mum was born out of wedlock, and discovered the father’s identity over a century later. By Gail Dixon
“Nan’s life story reads like a Catherine Cookson novel” says Sarah Fuller, who tells us more about her research
The scandal of giving birth to an illegitimate child in the early 20th century led to tragic tales of abandonment, social stigma and even suicide. If the father’s name was not given on official records then his identity could remain a mystery for generations, or for that matter never be revealed.
Sarah Fuller was determined to discover the name of her natural grandfather, and embarked on a quest that would reveal an enthralling history of passion, secrecy and attempted murder.
My Brick Wall
My grandmother Ethel Aubrey was born in Woolwich, SouthEast London, in 1886. In 1912, Nan gave birth to my mother Phyllis Edna in Cardiff. She was unmarried, but unlike most women in her predicament was able to keep her baby.
A year later Nan married a Frenchman called Louis Rogel, and Mum grew up with his surname. He had kyphosis, a spinal disorder that can cause a hunched back, and worked in a fashion warehouse in Cardiff.
After Nan died Mum found a printed card among her possessions that read “Mr and Mrs Louis Michael Rogel wish you the compliments of the season, Christmas 1913”. The card had been sent to show that Nan was ‘respectable’. Mum tore it up and threw it in the bin.
She rarely spoke of Louis during her lifetime. I was told that he died in an accident at Cardiff Docks in around 1916, and that Mum and Nan then returned to South-East London. Why was Mum so bitter? If Louis wasn’t her natural father, who was?
My Eureka Moment
The story began to unravel when my godmother, Iris Shelley, told me that Nan had confided in her in an air-raid shelter during the Blitz. Nan worked as a servant in 1911, and became pregnant by her employer. The man paid Louis Rogel to marry her, and save her from the shame of illegitimacy.
My godmother shared another confidence that was to shock me to the core. Louis had served time in prison for assaulting Nan.
As soon as the 1911 census was released, I began searching for leads. Apparently, my biological grandfather had been “well off and important”. Frustratingly, I couldn’t find Nan in 1911 despite trying many name variations.
At this point I turned my attention to Louis, and discovered a criminal record at Glamorgan Archives. In 1914, he was charged with attempting to murder Nan. Reading the details of the trial made me feel sick.
On the night of 11 June, Louis woke up trembling and stumbled out of bed. He went downstairs, and tried to strangle himself with a pair of braces. As his landlady appeared Louis went upstairs and stabbed Nan in the eyes, head, mouth and breast. When the landlady intervened, Louis tried to cut his own throat.
It was a miracle that Nan survived this horrific attack, and that she didn’t have lifelong scars. Louis stated to the court that Nan had taken pity on him and married him because he was “deformed”. As time went by, he “discovered that she had no affection for him and his life was made unhappy”.
Louis was convicted of attempted grievous bodily harm and sentenced to 12 months’ hard labour. There was no record of him dying in prison.
My Breakthrough
In 2020, I signed up to Ancestry ( ancestry.co.uk) and searched the 1911 census again. There it was – the elusive entry for Ethel Celia Aubery. Her surname was misspelled, and Nan had acquired an imaginary middle name.
In 1911, she was living as a servant in a residence in North Finchley. The head of the household was Arthur Charles Guppy who was married and had a young daughter. He was listed as an upholstery warehouseman, which could link him to Louis.
My cousin Julie discovered that Louis did indeed die in 1916 following an accident at Cardiff Docks. He must have found work there after he came out of prison.
Nan worked in munitions at
Woolwich Arsenal during the First World War, and went into business as a seamstress. She passed away in 1966, aged 80.
Although her life story reads like a Catherine Cookson novel, with illegitimacy, domestic violence and arranged marriage, she was always very loving towards me, her only grandchild.
Nan had six siblings, and I’d love it if any other readers with a connection to the Aubreys or Arthur Charles Guppy could get in touch via the magazine.