While my visit to Cornwall was primarily focused on exploring my maternal grandmother’s side of the family, I was delighted by a last-minute twist that allowed me to connect with her paternal roots as well. My Nana’s paternal grandfather, Joseph Lucas, was born in Bath in 1863 to William Cleaver and Anne Lucas.
You might be wondering why Joseph didn’t use his father’s surname, Cleaver. That’s where this story begins.
The Cleaver Family
The Cleaver family originated in Barby, Northamptonshire, but they called the Walcot area of Bath home for many years. William worked as a postman for 32 years, and Ann held a job early on as a bookbinder. They had eight children over fifteen years: William Bath Cleaver, Joseph Lucas Cleaver, John Webb Cleaver, Harry Lucas Cleaver, Abraham Harold Cleaver, Mary Lucy Ann Cleaver, George Frederick Cleaver, and Fred Septimus Cleaver.
At the age of 20, Joseph married 15-year-old Annie Turner in Bath—or at least that’s what the records say. The family story, however, is that Joseph left her at the altar and never actually married her, despite the marriage being officially registered.
Seven years later, Joseph made his way to Canada, but he wasn’t alone. The passenger list notes he was accompanied by “his wife,” who was not Annie. In fact, Annie remained in Bath, living with his parents for a few years. This is where the family story holds some truth. It was during this time that Joseph dropped the Cleaver surname and began using his middle name (his mother’s maiden name), Lucas, as his last name. His “new wife” was Ada Silcox.
Although Joseph and Ada never married, they went on to have eight children and settled in the Montreal suburb of St-Lambert. Their fourth child, Reginald “Reg” Guy Lucas, was my Nana’s father. After moving to Canada, Joseph only returned to England once, in 1913, accompanied by his eldest daughter, Dolly.
In researching the Cleaver family, I discovered a descendant of Joseph’s youngest brother, Fred.
Fred married Florence Annie White in Newton Abbot when he was 29 years old. They had three children over four years: Florence Lucy Louise Cleaver, Kathleen Theodora Mary Cleaver, and Eric Leonard Fred Cleaver. The family was raised in Bath, and later, Florence lived in Bristol and spent several years in Burma as a missionary. Kathleen married William Hutton and lived in Bristol, where they had two children. Eric married Doris Cook, and they had Mike and Ruth.
Reuniting the Past
In tracing where the family ended up all these years later, I found Mike on Facebook and connected with him almost a decade ago. Meeting him in person had always been on my list, but with him living in Australia, it seemed like a distant possibility.
Then, as I was planning my trip to Cornwall, Mike reached out to tell me that his sister, Ruth, lives in Cornwall. I couldn’t believe it. Could I really have the chance to reunite with a Cleaver in person? Their grandfather and my Nana’s grandfather were brothers. It’s funny how time passes and connections fade, but here we were, about to bring our family back together.
Ruth and I exchanged emails and arranged to meet for lunch on Tuesday, January 9th, at the Harbour Hotel in Padstow.
After an hour-long drive from Penzance, I arrived right on time.
The Harbour Hotel, with its cream facade and palm trees, looks like it could belong somewhere in the Mediterranean, perched atop a hill overlooking the River Camel and Padstow Bay. The weather would tell you otherwise, as it was quite cool and windy. Walking in, you’re greeted by the lyrics to a popular sea shanty, “What shall we do with a drunken sailor?”—a nod to the maritime heritage that defines this community.
I made my way to the restaurant, where Ruth and her husband, Paul, had chosen a prime table overlooking the harbor. As I hugged Ruth, I felt a wave of emotion—like I was hugging my Nana again. After all, they were cousins.
From the moment we met, I could tell Ruth and Paul were warm and caring people. We were already laughing before we even sat down. It felt so good to be there, as if our ancestors were gathered around, witnessing the reunion of a family that had nearly a century pass between their generations and ours. Ruth and Paul shared stories about their children and grandchildren, and then we delved into our shared history.
After lunch, Ruth pulled out a piece of paper with our family tree sketched out on it. I opened up my iPad with my Ancestry tree. We couldn’t help but laugh at how we both approached this differently; the difference of a generation, I suppose.
Over the course of two hours, we managed to catch up on the last hundred years of our family. It was remarkable. I won’t ever forget this time together.
Before heading to the car park to say our goodbyes, we took a few photos together. How does that old song go? “Reunited and it feels so good.” Yes, yes it does – and I can’t wait to return!
