Bristol is a village……or…….Who will I find next?

It has been said often enough that “Bristol is a village”; you will generally meet someone you know, or if you were my Dad, you would “get talking, and know their Auntie Fanny” or some other obscure relative. The case was proved on Saturday, 11 September 2021 when I volunteered for Heritage Open Day at the BAFHS Search Room at Bristol Archives. It was my first social engagement (outside “the family bubble”) since March 2020 and like a kid out of school I talked far too much. Everybody there, members and visitors alike, had a common interest so I didn’t need much encouragement to rabbit. Then a young couple wandered in; most family historians are of “a certain age”, and these two youngsters stood out. I grabbed them immediately. When the young man said he had formerly lived in Bedminster and was interested in coalmines, my joy was complete. I showed off about KIACP and said if the sequel “Mendip” ever gets published I would return to the Bedminster collieries, and update the third in the trilogy of photocopies. The young man’s eyes did not glaze over. He said

“I’m interested in my great – well he’s probably my great, great – grandfather. He was Lord Mayor of Bristol!”

“Charlie Gill!” was my excited reply. “From Pitboy to Lord Mayor!”

“Yes!” he said, clearly delighted that I knew of the great man.

“Then…….” I said, (pause for drum roll) “you are a relation of mine!”

Which is how I met Josh Harris and his charming wife Sarah.

I explained the “relationship”. No blood tie alas. It came about like this. My grandma, Laura Hester Pillinger died in 1933, before I was born. In 1942, my grandfather, her widower Albert Pillinger, married again, a widow called Lily Stone, nee Cox. Lily had a sister Florence Cox who was married to the aforesaid Charles Gill, making him my grandfather’s brother-in-law. Charlie had indeed risen from a life “down the pit” in Bedminster – he started work aged twelve, and through the Union became a vigorous supporter of miners’ rights,  a local councillor, Alderman, and eventually Lord Mayor, an office he held, unusually, for eighteen months 1948-49. A photo of him, with Florence, tending plants in their greenhouse appears on Page 239 of KIACP and he is mentioned frequently in the text of the book. His son, Ken Gill, has written his life story: ‘Miners’ Memories’ [C.L.A.S.S, 1986].

Not really a relation then? I only had sight of Charlie once and I’d be lying if I said I could remember it. He and the Lady Mayoress handed out the gongs for an “Empire Day” competition. “Empire Day” was still very big in those days and we were still taught to be proud of it.  I compiled something in the category “My Favourite Explorer or Missionary”. I expect I chose Captain Scott, along with a million others. I didn’t win but my name was in the paper, the Western Daily Press, 24 May, 1948.  I was Doreen Pillinger then, aged ten. Fancy, we didn’t even get a day out of school – it was held on a Saturday.

I had the certificate for years – it was quite large, half poster size, on superior paper, but now I can’t find it.

We were proud of our connection with the Lord Mayor. Until our Colin and Beagle 2 came along he was the only celebrity to whom we could lay claim.

When he married Lil in 1942, Albert my grandfather moved from Kingswood and lived at Foxcote Road, Ashton, Lil’s house. From childhood to teenage, we visited about once a month, Sunday evenings, two bus rides, good behaviour required and in our best clothes. We called her Auntie Lil; she was always very friendly and came with “Pap” to my wedding. Not just us but everybody called Albert “Pap”, old Kingswood/Bristolese for Grandad. He was quite probably the oldest person any of them knew. He was a regular habitue of the Hen and Chicken pub, and liked a flutter on the horses. He was a skilled bootmaker. His son, my Dad, Jack, had a gammy foot and Pap made his boots by hand until he died, both “hobnails” and “best” for going out. Dad often said “I never had a comfortable pair of boots after our father died.” Albert carried on making boots and “tapping and heeling” for repairs until he was 95 and only stopped commercially because the Council made him take down his little advertising sign. He was just four months short of his 100^th birthday when he died in 1974, still with all his marbles, just as I was starting to get interested in family history. What questions I should have asked him.

I have high hopes of Josh, my latest “Family History cousin”.  He sent me the photo above belonging to his uncle of Pap’s brother-in-law Charlie Gill in white tie and tails, plus the regalia of his office. I’ll be ordering the reference InfoBox/37/36: “biographical notes on Charles Richard Gill, Lord Mayor” when I next go to Bristol Archives and will also try to locate Ken’s book. No doubr there will be another blog in the future. In the meantime here’s another picture of him (Courtesy Western Daily Press, 23.7.1948).