Great-Great-Grandfather Williams

Meet one of my great-great-grandfathers, Captain William Henry Williams*, whose portrait here was drawn in pastels by his niece (his sister's daughter) Eliza Fanny Manning in 1879. She would be my first cousin thrice removed! And she was an illustrator of children's books. We have an anthology of poetry, to which she was one of several illustrators, in which Eliza wrote a dedication to her uncle from his 'affectionate niece'.

Rediscovering this wonderful artwork, which is in my sister's safe keeping, has reminded me that my subscription to the Ancestry website runs out in a couple of months. Must make good use of it before the end of the year, as I still have so many unanswered questions to follow up. (It is a never-ending pursuit and I shall probably allow my membership to lapse when it comes up for renewal in January, as it's quite expensive!)

The medals that this wonderful bearded gent is wearing are currently in my possession.

The portrait in my Extra, although not signed, is clearly from the same period and worked by the same artist. The subject is Ann, second wife of my great-great-grandfather (whose first wife, my great-great-grandmother, died soon after her second son was born). She was, therefore, no blood relation, but stepmother to my great-grandfather and his brother. Not only stepmother to these two boys, but also mother to her own son, their half-brother. Sadly, all died young: first her own son, then her younger stepson and, finally, her second stepson (my great grandfather), who died when my grandma (my mother's mother) was aged only two - and within a few months of her husband Capt Williams' dying. (The young men, I believe, died of consumption - or tuberculosis (TB), as it became known.)

I have a letter that she wrote to my grandma's young mother when her husband was dying. Her address then is Fitzroy Terrace, Plymouth, and she wrote, "I am truly grieved for the sad trouble you have. Still you must try to keep up. You have dear baby to love and live for. How sad and lonely my life is God only knows, but we do know that He does not give us more trouble than He will help us to bear, that is if we trust Him, feeling sure that tis all for our good."

As Ann Williams writes her sympathetic letter to her stepson's wife, the "dear baby" she mentions is my maternal grandmother, who died in 1964. (I find time kind-of concertinas and truncates the more I research my family tree and it makes me realise how short life is!) But, without getting maudlin, aren't they wonderful portraits! Maybe I'll share more of Eliza Fanny Manning's artwork some rainy day!

*Some years ago, I blipped about my naval ancestor's being given the Freedom of London.