Tuesday 28 July 2009

The Appelman Family

Henry APPELMAN was possibly born in Germany. He is mentioned as the father of Adam in Adam's will of 1804, having money owed to him [Adam] from the sale of "Henry's" land in Oberingelheim in the Rhineland Palantinate (at the time in the French Republic).




Adam APPELMAN ("Henry") was possibly born in Germany. He died in 1804 (see will of Adam Appelman below).

He married Charlotte GORDON 27 October 1793 at St. James' Piccadilly, Westminster London; both of the parish, by banns, witnessed by John Reid and J. Gordon.

Adam was a pianoforte maker, and may have worked for the Kirkman family.

IGI records the birth and baptism of a Frances APPELMAN in 1789, the daughter of Adam and Mary. This seems to suggest a previous marriage.

After Adam's death, Charlotte married George Martens [Mertens] in 1810, at St. George's Bloomsbury.

Known children of Adam Appelman and Charlotte:

  1. Joseph APPELMAN born 16.Feb.1795 - Marylebone, London.
  2. Jane APPELMAN born 24.Jan.1802 - Marylebone, London.



Joseph APPELMAN (Adam - "Henry") was born 16 Feb 1795 in Marylebone London, and was baptised 21 Mar 1795 at St. Mary Marylebone.

He married Mary Ann Ricketts ASHTON 18 Dec 1825 at St. James' Westminster London; both of the parish, by banns, witnessed by Thomas Haynes and Laura Barnicot.

Joseph was a pianoforte maker like his father, although he was only 9 years old when his father died.

Known child of Joseph Appelman and Mary Ann:

  1. Joseph John APPELMAN born 29.Jan.1828 - Marylebone, London.



Joseph John APPELMAN (Joseph - Adam - "Henry") was born 29.Jan.1828 in Marylebone London, and baptised 29 Jun 1828 at All Souls Marylebone.

He married Jane Elizabeth WILLIAMS 21 Oct 1850 at All Souls Marylebone.

Joseph John was a carver and gilder.

Children of Joseph John Appelman and Jane Elizabeth:

  1. Mary Ann Martha APPELMAN born 14.Jul.1851 - Pimlico, London.
  2. Jane Elizabeth APPELMAN born 1853 - Pimlico, London.
  3. Emily Sarah APPELMAN born 1855 - Marylebone, London.
  4. Katherine APPELMAN born 1858 - Islington, London.
  5. Joseph APPELMAN born 1860 Pimlico, London.
  6. Louisa Ann APPELMAN born 1863 - Lambeth, London.
  7. John Herbert APPELMAN born 1867 - Lambeth, London.
  8. George Henry APPELMAN born 1868 - Lambeth, London; died 1906
  9. Edith Alice APPELMAN born 1871 - Lambeth, London.



Mary Ann Martha APPELMAN (Joseph John - Joseph - Adam - "Henry") was born 14.Jul.1851 at 18 St Leonard Street Pimlico London (cert.), and died 13.Sep.1868 [under the name Appelman] aged 17 at 1 Gye Street Lambeth (cert.).

She married [unconfirmed] Arthur WINDAYBANK




Joseph APPELMAN (Joseph John - Joseph - Adam - "Henry") was born in 1860, Pimlico London. He died in 1925, Camberwell London.

He married Eliza CLARIDGE in 1884.

Children of Joseph Appelman and Eliza:

  1. Joseph William APPELMAN, born 1886 - Camberwell, London.
  2. Frederick Herbert APPELMAN, born 1889 - Camberwell, London.
  3. George Alfred APPELMAN, born 1893 - Camberwell, London.
  4. Edith Alice APPELMAN, born 1896 - Camberwell, London.



Joseph William APPELMAN ( Joseph - Joseph John - Joseph - Adam - "Henry") married Beatrice E. BLOWERS in 1919.




Frederick Herbert APPELMAN ( Joseph - Joseph John - Joseph - Adam - "Henry") married Emily H. JAMES in 1910.

Children of Joseph Appelman and Emily:

  1. Frederick W.G. APPELMAN, born 1912 - Kingston Surrey.
  2. Sidney R. APPELMAN, born 1915 - Southwark, London; died 1916.
  3. Ivy Lillian APPELMAN, born 19 Jan 1920 - Southwark, London; died 1986.
  4. Hilda E. APPELMAN, born 1924 - Southwark, London.




This is the last Will and Testament

of me Adam Appelman of Great Portland Street

in the parish of Saint Mary le bone in the county of

Middlesex pianoforte maker whereas the sum of one

thousand one hundred and fifty six Goulders and twenty

two Kreutzers was at Michaelmas which was in the year

of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and ninety six due

and owing to me from John Muller of Oberingelheim

in palantine in the territories of the French Republic

being the product of the sale of certain Land Given and bequeathed

unto me in and by the last will and testament of my late

Father Henry Appelman late of Oberingelheim And

whereas the said sum of one thousand one hundred

and fifty six Gouldars and twenty two Kreutzers is together with

interest thereon still due and owing to me Now. I do

hereby give and bequeath the said sum of one thousand

one hundred and fifty six Goulders and twenty two Kreutzers

together with all interest which shall be due to me thereon

at the time of my decease and also every other

sum or sums of money whatsoever which shall become

due or payable to me under or by virtue of the aforesaid

will of my late father deceased unto my wife Charlotte

Appelman, her Exois Admors and assigns to and for her and

their own use and benefit and as to all the rest residue and

remainder of all my monies and goods chattels and effects

whatsoever and wheresoever and of what nature or kind

so ever I hereby bequeath the same and every

part thereof unto my said wife Charlotte Appelman, to and

for her own use and benefit. And I hereby nominate

constitute and appoint Joseph Kirkman[*] of Broad Street

in the parish of Saint James Westminster in the county of

Middlesex pianoforte maker the sole executor of this my

Will and I hereby revoke all former or other will or wills

by me at any time made and declare this will to be my

last will and testament. In witness whereof I have

hereunto set my hand and seal this 20th of April 1803.

Adam Appelman [initialed] Signed sealed published and

declared by the testator Adam Appelman as and for his

last will and testament in the presence of us who in his

presence and at his request and in the presence of each

one of us have set our names as witness there to

Abrm Kirkman, Fen Court London John Prentice

108 Great Portland Street



This will was proved at London the ninth day

of July in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred

and four before the worshipful Samuel Pearce Parson Doctor

of Laws Surrogate of the Right Honourable Sir William

Wynne Knight Doctor of Laws Master Keeper or Commissary

of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury lawfully constituted

by the Oath of Joseph Kirkman the sole Executor named

in the said Will to whom Aduion was granted of all

and singular the Goods Chattles and Credits of the

deceased he having been first sworn duly to administer


Thursday 23 July 2009

Liar, liar, pants on fire

I’m in a bad mood today, so thought I’d have a moan. But not about what has actually put me in a bad mood - you really don’t want to get me started on that one.

No. Today I’m going to whinge about liars. Not those who tell a little white lie to save somebody’s feelings, or to keep a confidence - those are nice lies. Nor do I mean the lies that are really just a stretching of the truth, usually borne out of pride or a little too much excitement.

What I’m talking about is the whoppers: the boasters who have nothing to boast about, so make things up to look good: the bullsh** lies. Those that do these wonderful things, or know personally these wonderful people, even though everyone around them knows ‘full well’ they don’t. And boy! do they throw the toys from the pram when you dare to challenge them.

And, of course, there’s the sh** stirrer’s lies: the ones said to cause trouble. I’ve had some of these directed at me recently. Sadly, though, I’m use to it, and really don’t care what these people have to say any more. They are nothing but petty-minded individuals whose only pleasure in life seems to be making others miserable. I’m sure you know a few yourself.

Yeah, sure, I’ve told some whoppers in my time: who hasn't? But I gave those games up when I stopped being a child, so to see grown adults still doing it is quite amusing. Especially when they actually start to believe the lies themselves after a while - that’s the best bit. And even better if they forget what they’ve said. Although, catching out a bullsh** liar is one thing, but getting a sh** stirring one is hilarious.

Signed: Moody of M*******

P.S. Might whinge about those who can't be grateful for what they have next time... ;)

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Saturday 11 July 2009

No Spoilers Please

People who know me, know I’m far from a ‘squeeing fangirl’ when it comes to Russell T. Davis, but this week has seen me doff my Rusty cap at Mr. D. and his team, and say: that was a damn fine piece of British drama.

Yes, I’m a fan of Torchwood, so what! It’s part of the Whoniverse in which I proudly live. Heck! even some of my friends are Whovians - well, okay, most of my friends are of that persuasion, and I’m proud of them too.

So... this last week: Torchweek, as I’ve seen it called, my schedule was pretty much set around 9-10pm for five nights. BBC1 on the wide screen, and following the Doctor’s instructions: DON’T BLINK

Sadly, I did blink a few times, and I did miss some bits of the action. I’m old! I can’t focus on the screen if it’s full of movement - but apart from my fogey ailments, I was glued, hooked, and then totally blown away.

Superb!

To me, series three of Torchwood went deeper into the drama, nicked plenty of emotion from ClassicWho, and took me on the biggest ride of my life for five consecutive nights. I don’t want to start mentioning specific scenes, comment on plot, or even make too much of an obvious hint, as I’ve friends who have yet to watch, but I will say: I didn’t see that coming, and I wasn’t expecting that... oh and, great jumping gob stoppers, that was just simply brilliant.

And wasn’t Nicholas Briggs FAB in front of the camera - MORE!

Mind you, I was a wee bit naughty: I did allow myself one twitter: “Spot the difference between DW fans and fangirls - DW fans get excited over a quarry/fangirls at seeing JB's *spoiler*”
Yes, I’m weak - I even spotted The Shippons (but that’s a private joke).


Nothing... Time.... Distance between.
Average existence measured by mean.
Space age deities, scientific gods,
Their glories received with pretentious nods.


But back to the Whoniverse we go, and boy! was the ending left wide open... dangling ... begging for more.
Love it.
And, although the end was a tad cheesy, isn’t that just part of Doctor Who... ;)

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Friday 3 July 2009

"Silver" leaf gilding

"Move over Dan Brown!
Steven Savile's coming for you and he's got a silver dagger!"
- Stel Pavlou, international best selling author of DECIPHER and GENE



The 'Silver' cover is here!


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And don't forget, you can have a sneaky peak at
chapters One and Two


You can also show your support for Steven Savile
on Facebook

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Thursday 2 July 2009

Young Windebank

They shot young Windebank just here,
By Merton, where the sun
Strikes on the wall. ’T was in a year
Of blood the deed was done.

At morning from the meadows dim
He watched them dig his grave.
Was this in truth the end for him,
The well-beloved and brave?

He marched with soldier scarf and sword,
Set free to die that day,
And free to speak once more the word
That marshalled men obey.

But silent on the silent band,
That faced him stern as death,
He looked, and on the summer land,
And on the grave beneath.

Then with a sudden smile and proud
He waved his plume, and cried,
“The king! the king!” and laughed aloud,
“The king! the king!” and died.

Let none affirm he vainly fell,
And paid the barren cost
Of having loved and served too well
A poor cause and a lost.

He in the soul’s eternal cause
Went forth as martyrs must-
The kings who make the spirit laws
And rule us from the dust;

Whose wills unshaken by the breath
Of adverse Fate endure,
To give us honor strong as death
And loyal love as sure.
- Margaret L. Woods



The death of Young Windebank: Colonel Francis Windebank, shot at Oxford on the 3rd of May, 1645, following trial by Royalist Court-Martial, for the questionable surrendering of Bletchingdon House to Parliamentary Forces1 the previous month.


Born c.1613, the son of Catholic Sir Francis Windebank once Secretary of State for Charles I, Colonel Francis had been raised as a Royalist, with both Royalist blood and Royalist connections. His paternal grandmother, Frances, was the daughter of Sir Edward Dymoke, and Anne ( née Talboys), and had herself royal blood from the descent of Edward III through the Percy line. Yet this thinning blood had lost its meaning, and the King himself, with the power to save Windebank as he had pardoned several others for similar offences, failed to act.

The Colonel, he who had been honoured for such bravery at the ‘Battle of Cheriton’ the previous year, was condemned to die for cowardice by the “councell of war”.

"Poor Windebank was shot by sudden court-martial, so enraged were they at Oxford; for Cromwell had not even foot-soldiers, still less a battering-gun. It was his poor young wife, they said, she and other ladies on a visit there, at Bletchington House, that confounded poor Windebank. He set his back to the wall of Merton College, and received his death-volley with a soldier's stoicism." - Carlyle's Cromwell


The Royalist Governor of Campden House, Gloucestershire, Sir Henry Bard, had written to Prince Rupert on the 28th of April 1645:
"The letter enclosed was sent to me from Oxford, to be conveyed with all speed possible. Pray God it comes time enough! It concerns a most unfortunate man, Colonel Windebank. Sir, pity him and reprieve him. It was God's judgment on him, and no cowardice of his own. At the battle of Alresford he gave a large testimony of his courage, and if with modesty I may bring in the witness, I saw it, and thence began our acquaintance. Oh, happy man had he ended then! Sir, let him but live to repair his honour, of which I know he is more sensible than are the damned of the pains of hell. And sure it will be a perfect means to his salvation. God and your Highness consult about it."
But Rupert never receive the letter, it having been intercepted by the enemy. The prince, ignorant of all knowledge, arrived in Oxford on the 4th of May - a day too late.


The Terrace Wall

Sure man's heart anguish ne' er hath broken here
This smiling air of natural repose,
Which over Merton's meadowed landscape glows
Yes, on this spot where the grey stone walls rear
Their hoary height, fell that poor Cavalier,
Who gave his post up to his monarch's foes
At iron Cromwell's summons, without blows,
Through gentle courtesy, not coward fear.

Perchance beneath where now I stand, he stood,
Setting his back against the college wall,
Baring his breast, not dabbled yet with blood,
A bold, unflinching mark for many a ball;
His young wife's name borne on his latest breath-
Short trial his, brief shrift and soldier's death.

- John Bruce Norton


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A few months short of ten years after that fatal day, Jane, the widow of Colonel Windebank, married Thomas Teyrrill, esq. in London. Their daughter, Frances Windebank, married Edward Hales in 1669.

Interestingly, the eldest son of the Colonel’s sister Margaret, Francis Turner D.D., would later become one of the ‘Seven Bishops’ (as Bishop of Ely) who petitioned King James II on his second Declaration of Indulgence in 1688, and was imprisoned in the Tower of London for seditious libel. Despite this, Turner remained loyal to the Stewart king, and following the ‘Glorious Revolution’ later that year, refused to swear an oath of allegiance to William and Mary, thus becoming one of the nine nonjuring bishops.

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1 General Cromwell's Letter, that he had defeated Part of the King's Forces; and taken a House in Bletchington; commanded by Colonel Windebank, and articles, between General Cromwell and Colonel Windebank, on the Surrender of it.

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