The origins of this Branch can be traced back to Whitby 1599, but my story starts with my Great Grandfather John Ventress the eldest son of John and Mary Ventress (my Great-Great Parents), who had a family of six; four boys and two girls.

My Great Grandfather John was born in Picktree, Chester-le-Street, Durham in 1871. He was described in the 1891 census as an Agricultural Labourer, and it appears his agricultural career developed as he later becomes a ‘horse worker’ whilst in the employment of the Duke of Northumberland. It’s likely that he became a groom to the Duke’s household working in the stables tending to the horses keeping them clean and fed.

Great Grandad John married my Great Grandma Jessie Gullett in Sept 1891 and their first child, Hannah, was born that same year.  Great Gran Jessie was from Plymouth and had moved to Chester-le-Street with her father who was a Gamekeeper to the Duke of Northumberland.

My Great Grandparents John and Jessie moved to Whitburn in the early part of the 20th Century, they lived in number 1 Elders Buildings, and armed with his skills as an ostler Great Grandad found work tending pit ponies, underground at Whitburn Pit. Great Gran and Grandad had eight children. I recently discovered, they had 13 children together, not 10 as originally though, but sadly five of these children died before the age of two. 

The children who did survive were, Hannah (Wilkinson) Samual, Lydia (Lily) (Stevenson), John, Harry (my Grandad), Fredrick, Gretta (Seymour) & Annie (Wells).

Hannah Ventress married Stanley Wilkinson and in 1939 they lived in Sedgefield, Durham.

Samual Ventress married Mary Harper and in 1939 they lived in Whitburn, Durham

Lily Ventress married John Stevenson and in 1939 they lived in Shardlow, Derbyshire

John Ventress married Barbara Harper and in 1939 they lived in Whitburn, Durham

Fredrick Ventress never married, he lived with his parents in Whitburn, Durham, but died of TB when he was just 22 years of age. Gretta Ventress married Robert Seymour and in 1939 they lived in Whitburn, Durham Annie Ventress married James Wells and in 1939 they lived in Hebburn, Durham.

Thankfully their third son Harry (my Grandad) went on to marry my Gran, Evelyn Owen. Evelyn already had 3 illegitimate children before marrying Harry, and they went on to have four additional children together; Robert (my father), Irene, Patricia and Mavis (who died soon after birth). They lived in number 20 Rackley Way, all their married life and where I spent all of my informative years.

I remember me Grandad (Harry), as a short, stocky man, who always wore a cap and said very little. He lost all his hair at a very young age I never found out why, but I think it was related to being exposed to ‘trench gas’ in WWI, hence he always wore a cap, but most men did at this time anyway.  He always knew he was in trouble with me Nanna when she would call him Henry, we would laugh, as his name was Harry, never Henry. He was a passionate, highly skilled gardener; he grew fruit, flowers and vegetables in his back garden and on a small allotment which was located close to the house in a place known locally as ‘The Middlies’, why the Middlies, because it was a strip of land in the centre, ‘the middle’ of the Rackley Way housing estate, simple really! He would enter local flower and vegetable shows with his produce, winning countless prizes and trophies for his beautiful leeks; Note: the growing and showing leeks has always been a huge pursuit in the North East of England.

He had a big, heated, greenhouse and he used his wartime Anderson shelter as his tool shed and seed store.  As well as leeks, he’d grow a huge range of onions, tomatoes and giant carrots, his Peony-roses were spotless and somehow, he would grow mammoth size red cabbages, a sight-for-sore-eyes. He would give me my love of gardening, and whenever I smell tomatoes in a greenhouse, I think of me Granda, a fantastic memory which always brings tear to my eye.

When he wasn’t in his garden, he was a miner, a ‘pitman’. He worked down Whitburn pit all his life, from the age of 14, except for an extended sojourn to France and Belgium from 1916 to 1918 to ‘help-out’ in WW1. He was a ‘stoneman’, someone who opened the seams of coal for extraction by digging out the stone and removing it from the coalface. He was as hard as nails.

As a side job he tended and cared for the ‘pit-ponies’ ensuring their subterranean existence was as good as it could be.  He must have had this link from his father John who was an underground horse keeper at the pit. He told me that at the end of their working lives, they would be returned to the surface, and they would be almost blind from spending so long underground.

He worked six days a week, 12-hour shifts, normally the nightshift so he could be in his garden during daylight hours and got two weeks holiday every year: last week of July and the first week of August. He always wore his ‘Sunday Best’ on a Sunday, but never without his cap, and was a proud member of Whitburn Working Mans’ Club which coincidentally is located close to my birthplace Cornthwaite Drive. 

In 1916, at the tender age of 16, Harry, (I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me calling him that), joined the Army to do his bit in WW1.  He joined the newly formed Machine Gun Corps, (The MGC), who were affectionately known as the ‘Suicide Squads’ for their daring raids behind enemy lines. He saw action in some of the bloodiest and deadliest battles of WW1, namely Eypes and the Somme. The MGC was disbanded after the war, but I still have his service records, medals, honours and even copies of the Daily Orders for his troop (the 32nd), while they served at the Battle of the Somme.

He never spoke of his time in the trenches, men of that generation never did. Awesome, they were truly awesome!

On his return from the Great War, at the age of 18, he moved back into the family home in Elders Buildings to live with his Mam (Jessie), his two brothers, (Fred and Jack), his sister Gretta and Father John. As you would expect he went back down the pit.

I’m told that he was devoted to his Mam, Jessie, and would regularly be seen helping her with the house keeping and generally aiding her to making-ends-meet. This was extremely unusual for this time (1918), as men went to work and women stayed in the home, never were the two roles mixed or shared, particularly in working class families in the North East.

Not only was Harry close to his Mam, but it told he also helped my Great Grandmother, Margret Turnbull (Gibson), who had lost her second husband, Robert Gibson, in the Great War. Now, I don’t know if he did this out of respect for a lost Whitburn comrade, or if his Mam, Jessie, asked him to help, all I was told was he delivered free bags of coal to Margret to ensure she stayed warm and did jobs for her around the garden as she was a war widow. He certainly earned a huge degree of respect from Great- Gran Margret (not an easy thing to do apparently), for these acts of kindness.  It would be some years after this before my grandparents would tie-the-knot, but I think this had a lot to do with ‘Harry meeting Evelyn’, and we suspect the eventual marriage ‘arrangements’ by Margret.

In WW2 Harry joined the Home Guard and served throughout the war until being discharged in 1945. Between his shifts down the pit, as an ‘essential worker’, he would man the gun posts dotted along cliff tops between Marsden and Seaburn securing the beaches from German attack. A whole band of WW1 vets would do their bit in the Home Guard during WW2 and Harry was no exception. Remember what I said, they were awesome, truly awesome.

I was only six when Harry died, aged 65, but I still have the clearest, finest memories of him. I can still remember him coming home from the pit, he always had a little gift for me from the pit canteen. He would take me to Whitburn Club to show off his flowers and veg, proudly buying me a pint (of lemonade) and I can still hear him calling me, “Ha’way bonney-lad, come and giv’is a hand in the greenhouse”. I was always “The Bairn” when he referred to me in the third person and I went everywhere with him. I think he would have taken me to work with him if he thought he could get away with it.

Incidentally, my middle name is Harry, and I’m immensely proud to carry on his name.

Harry and Evelyn’s children all married – Margaret (Peggy) Owen married twice; Brian Trotman, then Andria Smiles, and they had four children.  Elsie Owen married John Anderson and they had two children. Note:  This was a love story born out a shipwreck at the Bents, but that’s another tale for another day. Evelyn’s son Joseph Owen, (Elsie’s twin brother) was adopted soon after his birth and never married. Irene Ventress married George Bowley and they had three children.

Patricia Ventress married Alan Bolton and they had three children. Robert Ventress (my father) married Cathy Myers and they had 6 children and you all know who you are!

Great Grandma Jessie died in 1926 of Diabetes at the relatively young age of 49. Great Grandad John Ventress died in 1939 aged 68.

Grandad Harry passed away in 1965, of silicosis (miners’ lung) at the age 65. He’s buried in the cemetery alongside my eldest Brother Robert (Bom) who was also cared for by my devoted Grandparents. After 47 years at 20 Rackley Way, Evelyn (my Gran) and me (aged 14), moved to Oak Crescent where we lived until she sadly left us in 1977.

I owe so much to my grandparents and it’s worth reflecting just how brave and strong this generation were.  They lived through two world wars, a worldwide pandemic (bigger than COVID), several economic depressions, no health service and for most of the time in severe poverty. But despite all this they came through for us on so many levels.  I often think of them when I get frustrated with the loss of the internet or a sky channel… It helps to put it into perspective.

There are many, many Ventress’s and descendants of the the Ventress’s who still live in the village, (some I expect who didn’t even realise).   If your family name is Ventress, Turnbull, Lillie, Seymour, Wells, Harper, Stephenson, Gullett, Gibson, Purvis, Tweddle, or Owen it’s highly likely your connected to the people in this story. So, go on dig out those documents from the loft and let’s try and add to the tapestry of the village history.

If you can help and wish to post us evidence, then please get in touch.