Childhood crime appalled many of the luminaries of the Victorian era, not least Charles Dickens who highlighted the problem in Oliver Twist (1837–1839). As more migrant workers flooded into the cities, the juvenile crime rate rocketed. Unsurprisingly, poverty was the driving force and many children became pickpockets just to put food in their stomachs, often joining gangs like Fagin’s. Those who were convicted were thrown into filthy, overcrowded gaols alongside adult felons. Imagine such a fate befalling one of your ancestors.
Mary Jones is a writer from Llandudno in Conwy, North Wales, who has published genealogy-based mystery novels under the pseudonym MK Jones. She became fascinated by family history 25 years ago, and has delved deep into her Irish ancestry.
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“My mum’s maiden name was Josephine Collins,” Mary explains. “She was widowed young and took up a few hobbies after Dad died, including genealogy. I decided to help her, and soon became hooked on it. That’s how I found our Victorian relative Michael Collins, who fell foul of the law during childhood.”
"I became hooked on genealogy"
Michael was born in Youghal, County Cork, Ireland, in 1848. His parents were John and Mary Collins, and his eldest brother Thomas would grow up to become Mary’s great great grandfather.
“The family came to Wales in 1849 at the height of the Great Famine. Life must have been terrible for them in Ireland.” Food riots erupted in Irish ports, including Youghal, where starving people had to watch home-grown grain being loaded onto boats destined for England.
The family settled in Newport, Monmouthshire (now Gwent), which is where they were listed on the 1851 census. The Monmouthshire and Brecon Canal transported coal, limestone and iron ore from the Valleys to Newport. The town expanded to become a thriving port, and this generated work opportunities.
“A large Irish community grew up around Newport, and it’s still there today. It was a dreadful place to live in the mid-19th century, built on a marsh with houses just thrown up for the workers. Sewage ran down the middle of the road, and there was one ‘privvy’ for 20 households. The Collins family lived close to the docks and canal, where barges came in laden with coal.”
Arrested for stealing coal
Mary began searching for John, Michael’s father, and looked up his name on the National Library of Wales’ website Welsh Newspapers Online. “I found two magistrates’ reports and these revealed that John had been arrested twice for stealing coal, the first time with Michael who was aged only seven.
“I found this so shocking. Imagine being a seven-year-old child standing in the dock of a court. Michael was acquitted, but John was sentenced to three months’ hard labour.”
Michael’s challenges had only begun, because in 1859 he was arrested with his brother John for stealing coal. They were found guilty, and 14-year-old John was given six months’ hard labour. Michael was sentenced to a fortnight in gaol, which began immediately, then five years in a reformatory. “I thought this was a very harsh sentence for a 10-year-old child. All he’d done was steal a few lumps of coal.”
"All he’d done was steal a few lumps of coal"
Reform schools began in 1854 under the terms of the Youthful Offenders Act. The intention was to take child ‘criminals’ off the streets, separate them from adult prisoners and lead them into a new way of life.
Children were educated and taught trades or skills to prepare them for domestic service. Life was strict and regimented, with every second of the day occupied. The diet was akin to that of the workhouse, consisting mainly of tea, bread and butter, potatoes, and stew or barley soup. Overcrowded conditions caused outbreaks of contagious diseases, including smallpox and measles.
Reformatory staff were stern, and meted out harsh punishments. Many children ran away; if girls were caught then their hair was cut off, and if boys were caught they were flogged. Families hadto pay the school a regular stipend to support their children.
“Michael was sent to Monmouthshire Reformatory for Boys in the village of Little Mill around 11 miles north of Newport. It was also known as Little Mill Reformatory, and opened in February 1859. Michael was its first pupil and, for 10 weeks, the only child there.
“I visited Gwent Archives at Ebbw Vale, Blaenau Gwent, to discover more. The reformatory kept notes about its pupils, and it was incredible to see Michael’s case history in its ‘Register of Boys, 1859–1914’.
“The notes revealed that he arrived on 11 April 1859 after spending a fortnight in Usk House of Correction, a few miles away. Michael was unable to read, and was ‘unconscious of right or wrong, with no idea that to steal was a sin’. To begin with, when he was the only child, he spent most of the time working in the potato fields, and receiving basic instruction in English and mathematics. I’m not sure how often the family could visit him, although the record stated that his sister Hannah did so on one occasion. At least the reformatory school gave him a chance in life that he may not have had otherwise.
“I was pleased to see that Michael thrived at the school. The master recorded that after two years, ‘he had good moral qualities and capabilities which there was not the least chance of development in his former wretched condition’.”
Captain's apprentice
By the mid-1860s, Thomas had joined the Merchant Navy and it was suggested that Michael should be apprenticed to a sea captain. In 1864, he was licensed for a month to a ship owner in Newport and became an able seaman.
“Again, Michael did well and voyaged to Portugal and other European nations. His reformatory notes recorded that he returned to speak to the staff and boys about his new life.”
Sadly, Mary discovered that Michael fell foul of the law again in 1871 when was convicted of stealing a cap. He was sentenced to three months’ hard labour.
“Despite this aberration, life was taking a more positive turn for Michael. In 1871, he married Mary McCarthy in Newport and she became pregnant.
“A few months later, Michael sailed from Liverpool on the Universe to Savannah, Georgia, USA. I then found a tragic record in the collection ‘UK, Registers of Births, Marriages and Deaths at Sea, 1844–1890’ on Ancestry. Michael had caught dysentery on the voyage home, and was taken to the Northern Hospital in Liverpool. The record stated that he died on 3 December 1872, two days after being admitted. It’s highly unlikely that Mary could have travelled from Newport to Liverpool to see her husband before he died. Their son Michael was born in June 1872. I don’t know if he ever got to see him.
“The record stated that Michael had wages of £11 18s 11d, which he insisted on taking into hospital with him. I suppose he was keen to ensure that the money would go to Mary and his son if he passed away. After his death, the funds were handed over to the Board of Trade, and I’m still trying to find out if they were passed to Mary.”
Michael was buried in Liverpool Parochial Cemetery (also known as Walton Park Cemetery) on Merseyside, in an unmarked grave with three other men. “The most emotional moment came in September 2023 when I found his grave, or rather the spot where he was buried. It was unmarked, but Peter Woods, the former building manager at Our Lady and Saint Nicholas, the Parish Church of Liverpool, helped me find it.
“I had the grave number and Peter could tell which graves were either side, so we located Michael’s burial place. I put four roses on the grass, one for each man buried there.
“Michael was only 23 when he died, and a married man with a baby. After everything he’d been through, it was so tragic that he ended his days in a place he didn’t know, surrounded by strangers in a pauper’s grave. Still, there was some comfort in the knowledge that the parochial church ensured that indigent people like Michael had proper burials.”
Despite discovering such a tragic tale, Mary has found her research to be life-affirming. “The Collins were survivors in an era when life could be hard, cruel and short. However, when I think of my close family, if there was ever a chance for a celebration they would all get together and have a knees-up. Perhaps the Collins family back then were the same.”
Mary adds, “The great thing about genealogy is that we’re all part of a long line of ancestors, and you’re the person who has been ‘chosen’ to carry them on into the future. Michael Collins is not forgotten.”