Prologue
Walking into a great-great-great uncle's lithograph has become the closest thing I have to reaching back into the life of my third great-grandmother, Charlotte Vaughn. His scene of Broad Street, Presteigne, Radnorshire, in 1832, renders many thoughts. And while Charlotte is as vague as the figures in the distance, I can picture her in shawl and gown, maybe even a hooded cloak drawn upon her shoulders, but certainly, no sense of normality comes to mind when I begin to piece her life together. She must have had busy days in those early years with a house so filled with children, for young Charlotte had at least eight babies before age twenty-five, the time of this etching.
Looking at the two men standing by the entranceway to St. Andrew's Churchyard with their hats and canes, might one be Charlotte's husband, Henry or his father, Henry Robert Ince, having visited the cemetery after the recent loss of Mrs. Ince? There appears to be a child standing nearby, waving. Could this be Charlotte's oldest daughter, Matilda, who would have been close to eight years old at the time? Could it be a neighbour, a niece, or a cousin?
Joseph Murray Ince’s 1832 lithograph of Broad Street, Presteigne.
One thing I do know about Charlotte is that she once stood precisely where brother-in-law Joseph was standing when he sketched this picture outside the doorway of Roseland, the house he and his brother Henry knew so well. She probably even walked up the steps directly in the front on the right to Church House, where their aunt and cousins from London made their home. But I can't guarantee that when she did enter Aunt Mary's dwelling place, she was welcomed there - thus leading to the title of my story, Charlotte, What Were You Thinking?
I have visions of Charlotte spending time with her brother-in-law Joseph. They were much closer in age than she and her husband Henry, perhaps knowing each other as children. It appears they remained friends over the years, Charlotte even present at his death. I wonder if she shared his love for art, or did she conjure her passion by writing or simply dreaming of travelling the countryside. I believe wholeheartedly that Charlotte was her own person. Yet, as a woman in Regency times, she could not carry out her aspirations without upset. Yes, dear Charlotte was rebellious and broke many rules. And it is hard to understand how she could leave her children behind, let alone why. Still, Charlotte shared fervor for life that I cannot help but write about.
The watercolor of Swansea Castle is attributed to J. M. Ince, abt.1840.
Notice the traditional Welsh attire.
In 1839, Charlotte steps into a new painting, perhaps even a new life, but this time one as colorful as brother-in-law Joseph's watercolor of Swansea Castle. Her twelfth child, William, was born in Swansea that year, christened at St Mary's Church, just a few minutes' walk from the castle. While baby William returns to Presteigne, Charlotte begins her obscure journey, leaving just enough to stir my imagination and win my heart.
When you have an elusive relative, you can suddenly find yourself filling in the missing pieces with tales born out of logic, polite assumption, and the passion of one's own wanderlust as you travel through time. All the while reaching for them lingering just within the shadows. I have done all these things hoping my research is the glue that holds them together.