Their graves in St Oswald’s churchyard are about 60 paces apart. John’s stone has been out in all weathers for over 30 years longer than his brother’s and it hasn’t worn well.
The incised letters on Warcup’s stone are still sharp a hundred years after they were cut.
Warcup was baptised a CROSIER…
…but he signed his apprentice indenture form and the marriage register on his wedding 1846 as CROSHER.
Warcup and Ann’s three girls came into the world as Croshers and departed as either Crosier or Crozier in official records. Only the youngest girl married – as Elizabeth Ann Crosier. For this family unit “Crosier” is written in stone.
One wonders if the two brothers talked about changing the family name. They clearly didn’t see eye to eye. Not only did John marry as a Crosher but his son with Elizabeth the Second did too – and died a Crosher in 1971.
Variant family names are an occupational hazard for family historians. I suspect most arise from misunderstandings by record takers (initially) and digitizers/transcribers (in recent years). Not many are at continuing variance by parental or sibling choice. A quick look at the Index of Volume 2 of the East Yorkshire Family History Society’s St Oswald’s Monument Inscriptions shows only one family in this sort of conflict. Crosher/Crosier.
John is with his first wife, Elizabeth PASHBY, who died childless (it seems) at the age of 44.
About fourteen months later, at the age of 54, John married Elizabeth MILNER, a spinster aged 35. Her widowhood lasted 36 years and her grave, next to John and the other Elizabeth, has a flat tablet letting the world know who placed it there.
In loving memory of ELIZABETH, second wife of JOHN CROSHER, who died October 16th 1919.
Erected by her son GEORGE HENRY CROSHER Hon. Steward of Westminster Abbey.
Find George Henry on FamilySearch Tree.
I posted a photo of Ironbridge Gorge last autumn but titled it Landscape 61, forgetting I had an empty category for “Old Life” pictures. My faithful companion, Jude, departed for the Big Kennel on this day five years ago. Six years to the day before that we enjoyed a lovely walk on a bright, frosty morning – and he waited patiently while I made this panorama.
The Sandholes are between Jude and the risen sun. I don’t know if it is true, but I understood that the sand taken from this place was of a particular kind, perfect for making the moulds into which molten iron could be poured to make useful and/or decorative cast iron objects. Half a mile from this viewpoint, more or less straight ahead, is one of the Cradles of the Industrial Revolution, and an iconic brick structure – The Darby Furnace, where iron was first smelted using coke.
If you copy and paste these coordinates into Google Maps and hit Satellite View you’ll find yourself at the Sandholes.
The Old Life ended when Jude and I left Middle England for the Yorkshire Coast, about four months after the Sandholes photos were taken. Here’s a picture of him taken in Filey in March 2009. I miss him, but he’s not really gone away.