Chapter Seven - July 16th, 1826

Swansea Castle, engraving by J. Rodgers, 1830

Before the heat of the day, as early sunlight spilt a glaze across the water and alabaster clouds were still sleeping upon its rays, Charlotte and Henry made their way to the church. Henry would check several times for the ring still in his pocket while Charlotte paused to collect a few stray wildflowers leaning across the walkway. Though delicate, they were strong and spoke of everlastingness and promise, and she drew wisdom from each petal. It was not a full bouquet but enough to carry her dreams wrapped in ivy and ribbon.

It was a Sunday morning, and although the Reverend William Hewson was a busy man, especially on the Sabbath, looking at all the Sunday weddings of late in the parish register, it appears he was quite accommodating. Weddings were required by law to take place between eight in the morning and noon, and if on a Sunday, which was quite fashionable at the time, they were likely conducted before the congregation arrived for services.

St. Mary's Church, Swansea, 1853, showing the side chapel entrance. This engraving is before the church was completely torn down and rebuilt in the late 1800s. In WWII the church was extensively damaged and rebuilt again in the 1950s. 

St Mary's Church, with its square, sturdy, medieval tower, stood in the midst of a large churchyard in the centre of town. The church was not overly big; the ceiling arched with freestone pillars, the walls whitewashed and bright, and the pews tall and straight. If one looked closely along the stuccoed walls, traces of gothic arches could still be seen. Here and there, memorials were scribed with ancient reminders of those who prayed on the same sacred ground. Charlotte seemed to notice these things. Despite her shortcomings, she carried an air of piety inside her.

There was a church standing in this spot, in varying forms and with numerous renovations, since at least the 1300s. The nave and roof were new in comparison, rebuilt less than a century before. A local story, repeated countless times, tells of a past congregation that stood outside St Mary's awaiting the vicar for Sunday service when suddenly, with no warning, the pillars inside the church gave way, causing the roof to collapse. It seems the lateness of the vicar, caused by the tardiness of his barber, became everyone's good fortune. Charlotte may have even heard the story for such tales, like legends and lore, passed freely within the Welsh countryside. It may have even sparked thoughts of her own fortuity when she paused outside St Mary's doors. No longer dangling on the rim of uncertainty, she felt validated, a place she had not been before.

William Hewson, Vicar of Swansea in Swansea Museum.
Painting by William John Watkeys, 1832.

The Reverend William Hewson, married and in his mid-forties, was the vicar of St Mary's Church for twelve years now. At the same time, he was also the vicar of Nantmel in Radnorshire and the Rural Dean of East Gower. Just the year prior, he was made Chancellor of St David's in Pembrokeshire. His wife Anne was the daughter of St Mary's past vicar, the Reverend Miles Bassett, who, up until his death, served the community for fifty-seven years. With William Hewson taking the place of his father-in-law, between the two of them, they would come to serve the parish for almost a hundred years.

 Although zealously set in his ways, William Hewson was well-liked by many. He appeared dedicated to raising money for Swansea's infirmary, aiding the poor in receiving medical care through donations and subscriptions. Charities, societies, and community functions benefited from his sermons, frequently taking in more than an amble offering collection. In 1820 he published his fiery Unitarianism Refuted", a subject that bounced back and forth in the newspapers in response to Captain James Gifford's "Remonstrance of a Unitarian", addressed to the Bishop of St David's. In addition, he was a Freemason and a member of the Radnorshire's Commission of the Peace. He later became a magistrate of Glamorgan, Radnorshire, and Pembrokeshire, spending a great deal of time tending to politics with his strong Tory values, a definite contrast to Henry Ince's Whig upbringing. The Reverend William Hewson likely knew something was amiss with Henry requesting a marriage license so far from home. Yet, he outweighed any concern or suspicion with compassion.

William Hewson's mention in newspapers of the time

 

It is doubtful that family members attended the ceremony, for if so, in all probability, they would have witnessed the marriage. Instead, the witnesses were Daniel Daniel and William Davies, both church members who attested to many of the weddings recorded in the parish register. Charlotte would wear her best Sunday dress unless, of course, all the days of window shopping prompted Henry to buy her a favoured new one. Possibly a dress of lightweight silk brightly coloured or a fashionable calico one clinched in the waist with the broadest ribbon, complete with a muslin pelerine to rest upon her shoulders. This would then become her new best Sunday dress.

The ceremony was predictable and lengthy. William Hewson would open his Church of England Common Book of Prayer and begin the ritual that remained unchanged since first standardised in the 1660s. Exchanging vows, Charlotte and Henry would stand before the altar mirroring his phrases. Perhaps Charlotte stumbled on her words or had stuttered with her steps, for it was a notable decision to wed Henry. Or maybe she had no thoughts at all except to run, but her heart quickly caught up.

Marriages were solemn occasions so different from today. There was no "kissing of the bride" yet, and the customary idea of "something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, a silver sixpence in her shoe", taken from a Lancashire children's rhyme, was not a concern until the latter part of the 1800s. White bridal dresses did not trend until Queen Victoria's wedding fourteen years later in 1840, when she untraditionally chose a simple white satin gown. Not only did it symbolise purity, but it was in support of Britain's waning silk and lace industry, constructed of England's Spitalfields silk and trimmed with handmade Honiton lace from the Devon village Beer. Lengthy veils were no longer fashionable. Instead, lace cap veils were popular. They covered just the face and were easily attached to a hat or bonnet decorated with ribboned roses or, when available, fresh blossoms set within the brim to frame the face. Brides sometimes carried herbs, myrtle, ivy, or those flowers of the season that held special meaning. A ring would be required, whether silver, gold or brass, and there would be just one - for the bride. More than once over the years, ingeniously, a couple used a curtain ring, or even the round loop of a church key would substitute.

Since marriages were performed almost always before noon, after the ceremony, many families shared in a wedding brunch, similar to what we consider a potluck meal. It was a humbler occasion than we think of today but full of heartfelt celebration, often at the home of the bride's parents or relatives. A "honeymoon" was the entire month following a wedding, not just a period of time away. Wealthier couples may have taken an extended excursion, but most newlyweds who could manage time away from work settled for whatever they could, often just visiting relatives for a week or so. Local wedding traditions varied from county to county, often intermixing. I am sure Charlotte knew some of these. More likely than not, she listened for the birds on the morning of their wedding day, heedful that their song would carry good luck.

Church of England Common Book of Prayer, Solemnization of Matrimony, 1820.

William Hewson's voice echoed through the chapel. He was at home there, having resounded these words a thousand times. Henry would present the ring to the vicar, who in turn gave it back to him to place upon Charlotte's left hand. There he held the ring in place and recited the words, "with this ring, I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen". Together they would kneel while the Reverend William Hewson offered prayers. Then came the joining of hands, and with the vicar's voice committed and unwavering, there would be psalms and blessings on the sanctity of marriage. I am sure at this point, Henry and Charlotte's minds were racing, and somewhere between light-headedness and determination, they would remember very little of it, for that just seems to happen.

Finally, they would sign their names in the parish register, and officially, Charlotte would inscribe her maiden name for the last time. By doing this, whatever personal property she may have had, was automatically turned over to Henry.

 

Charlotte and Henry's parish entry, St Mary's Church, Swansea, 16 July 1826.

Charlotte's handwriting is enthusiastic, alive, almost childlike and for a moment, I attempt to delve further into her signature. The fact that she could write her name says much, for she is the only one amongst her siblings to do so. Perhaps I am mistaking happiness or gregariousness for craving attention, but her letters are open, and, despite being flashy, they demonstrate sincerity. The name Charlotte stands out and displays ambition. There's no question she is her own person. Next, in comparison, she has toned "Vaughn" down. Did she see she would be running out of writing space, or was it the name itself she was curbing? Still, she has made it fancy, giving the letter "V" a grand entrance, and with the planned-out vanity frills, it shows pride. "Roe" appears basic and sizably rounded as if a newly rehearsed afterthought, which leads me to another riddle – Charlotte, why the name Roe and not Vaughn? That in itself has grown another chapter of her story, but as today is her wedding day, I dare not continue with more inquisitive ramblings.

A closer look at their signatures

As for Henry, his hand was steady. Obstacles did not seem to matter to him. He knew what he wanted and would look one straight on. He proved that by marrying Charlotte. In comparison, his signature appears sedate, but actually, it is filled with flair. He shows confidence in the Ince name, though it weighs on him slightly. Perhaps meeting family expectations does take its toll. He comes across as intelligent and social and possibly extravagant with an artist's hand of one who is always seeking. Indeed, he may be too illusory or critical of himself to reach his dreams, but like Charlotte, he moves ahead. They share ambitiousness. The letter "y" in "Henry" dips well into her space, but he seems to catch himself and continues lightly, not to overpower her. He is rather gentlemanly in that way.

So much is speculation in my limited knowledge, but surely an ancestor's handwriting can help us make their acquaintance and be as expressive as the look they once carried on their faces. It will be interesting to see how Charlotte and Henry's signature changes over time. Clearly, there is a place for analysing handwriting in family history.

I like to think Henry paid the bell ringers, and when he and Charlotte stepped out the doorway of St Mary's, the bells in the church tower pealed loudly, announcing their marriage to all, mixing with calls of seagulls and haze of a summer morning. Across the rough pavement, a whim of freedom filled their steps as if a veil was suddenly lifted, anxious to begin their new life.

1826/1827 Daytime Fashion

          Soon they will be leaving Swansea and I begin another journey alongside them....

Mumbles Lighthouse, Swansea Bay