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TRAFALGAR

On the anniversary of the Battle of Trafalgar, ROBERT BULLARD met up with a lady whose research has unearthed a family - and Shropshire - link to Britain’s great naval victory

Thirty years ago Francesca Upton opened a bundle of papers that her in-laws had been keeping in a metal chest in their barn in Wollerton, North Shropshire.

“I did not know what I was going to find”, she says.  And she still doesn’t, because about one third of the papers still lie untouched, now relocated to a shelf in her study.

“We knew my husband’s family had a link with Trafalgar”, she says.  “But that was all.  What was their involvement and what happened to them, nobody knew”. 

And now, in time for the 200^th anniversary of Britain’s greatest sea battle, she is able to tell what was in those old papers in the mice and rat-infested barn. 

After years of painstaking work - during which Francesca has deciphered, catalogued and transcribed 250 documents – she can reveal the career, personal life and Shropshire link of her husband’s ancestor.

“Unravelling the story and piecing everything together has been great fun!” says Francesca, as she starts to tell me what she has discovered. 

William Wilkinson was born in London in May 1778, and had family that lived around Wem.  Exactly where and what the link with Shropshire was Francesca does not yet know, and nor where he spent his early years. 

“But aged 22 he volunteered as an able seaman”, she continues “and I have traced most of his movements from then until his retirement.”

In 1803 William got a commission on the frigate HMS Sirius, and was Master of the ship – Senior Warrant Officer in today’s terms – at the Battle of Trafalgar, in October 1805.

Not only was William at Trafalgar, and one of “the second highest paid on Sirius”, says Francesca, but the frigate played a crucial role in alerting the fleet - and of Nelson on HMS Victory - that the French and Spanish ships were trying to make a dash from Cadiz, following which the battle started. 

William’s record of the battle show a mixture of pride and sorrow, and Francesca reads to me from a letter he wrote afterwards, when the English seamen had gone ashore.

 “The shore was covered with dead bodies”, she reads.  “Scarcely a person in Cadiz is not affected, who has not lost a brother or a father .. the slaughter is immense.  There must be 20,000 dead.“

The words are a reminder to the more romantic memories of the glorious victory that established British supremacy on the seas for the next 100 years.

Because of serious ill-health, William retired from active service in 1810 and, until his full retirement in 1833 (aged 55), was, on half his former pay, superintendent of the wharf at Deptford. 

“We still have his ensign that flew over the docks”, says Francesca, gesturing towards a scroll that is leaning in the corner, behind me.  “But it is not in good condition and needs repair.”  A job for another day, we agree.

But William had always been more than just a sailor, and ever since 1807 he had also turned his hand to romantic pen and ink drawings of ships at sea, several of which are now hanging on Francesca’s walls. 

“There is one painting that I would love to find, of HMS Perseverance being towed into Deptford Docks”, says Francesca, with a shrug of her shoulders.

“After his retirement there is rather a nasty exchange of letters with the admiralty”, Francesca explains. 

Rather belatedly, in 1846, the admiralty allowed William and other Masters to apply for general service medals.  William applied and was offered the honorary title of ‘Commander’.  But only if, to put him on a par with others, he forgave a higher pension that he had secured for himself a few years earlier, which was thought to have been for his services as superintendent of the wharf.  It must have been a difficult decision, but he accepted.

“What kind of a man was he?” I ask.

“Close to his family” says Francesca.  “He wrote regularly to his wife and we still have a lock of their first daughter’s hair, who died when she was very young, while William was at sea.”  

Sadly, details on William’s later years are more sketchy, except to say that his wife died in 1833, after which he moved to Shropshire and spent the years 1837-1849 in Market Drayton, where his eldest son married into some wealth.  Then William went to Birkenhead, where he died in 1857.

“One of the most interesting documents”, says Francesca, “is a letter William wrote in 1856 to his eldest son, in which he sets out details for when he dies.” 

“He wanted to be dressed ‘in flannel shirt, drawers and stockings’”, says Francesca.  “And was very specific that he wanted to be buried at St Mary’s Church, Market Drayton.”   And you can still see the family graves. 

Francesca’s husband, John, admits to being ‘fascinated’ by all his wife’s discoveries.  He only wishes he had asked more questions of his family, to fill in some of the pieces – like why did William move to Birkenhead and what happened to all his children? 

Maybe some of the answers, we all agree, might be in the rest of the papers.  Who knows? 

ENDS

“Some of all the stuff is clearly rubbish, says Francesca, “such as coach tickets to London; and other bits are very boring – like letters requesting more clothing, and pen and ink”.   “But the rest I hope to hand over to the Maritime Museum, in Greenwich.”

“He was clearly quite well educated ”, feels Francesca, having waded through at least one hundred of his ‘fairly dull’ letters.

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