Henry Batson (1780-1863)
Henry Batson, born 10 August 1780 was baptised at Egham, Surrey on 10 January 1781. His father had been Stanlake Batson of Horseheath Lodge, Cambridgeshire, who died in 1812.
Henry became a Writer in the East India Company’s Bengal Civil Service in 1801, rising to Register for Bundelkhand in 1806, Collector in Etawa, Moradabad c1812-1821, to Third Member of Board of Revenue, Western Provinces, by 16 October 1823.
Henry retired on an annuity 1 July 1826 and returned to England the following 7 September as announced in the The Quarterly Oriental Magazine, Review, and Register, Part 76, Volume 6, passengers departing for Europe included, juxtaposed,
‘Miss Zubeeda Carnon’ [in a distorted interpretation?] & ‘Henry Batson, Esq., a civil servant on this establishment’.
Presumably having first wed, a son Stanlake Henry Batson was born 1810 in India. Henry was married again on 6 November 1827, at St Augustine the Less, Bristol to, Zobeida Emily Margaret Oellz (b. c.1805 ‘in foreign parts’ according to the 1841 Census but Lancashire in 1851).
In 1841 Henry purchased Garbrand Hall, Ewell.
The Times 07 May 1841
Garbrand Hall c1895, Photographer C J Hopkins
Image courtesy of Epsom & Ewell Local And Family History Centre
At Surrey Quarter Sessions, Newington, in October 1843 he brought a charge, against Thomas Lloyd, aged 70, a livery servant of stealing a livery coat, a glass mustard pot and 5 shilling crown piece, the property of Henry Batson esquire, his former employer, at Ewell. The case was reported in The Economist :
SURREY SESSIONS.
CATCHING A TARTAR. — On Tuesday last Thomas Lloyd, a venerable old man, of sixty-seven years of age, and of respectable connexions, was indicted for stealing, at Ewell, a cloth coat, a glass mustard pot, and a crown piece, the property of Henry Batson, Esq., a retired captain of the 1st Life Guards. The prisoner was defended by Mr Charnock. From the nature of the evidence produced before the Court, it appeared that the prosecutor engaged the prisoner as a footman, and that on entering into his service on the 17th instant, the prosecutor made over to the prisoner nearly £400 worth of plate. On Saturday last it was arranged that the prisoner should leave his master, but previous to his going away the articles named in the indictment were missed, when the coat and mustard pot were found in his box; and the crown piece, which had been taken from the kitchen shelf, was found in the prisoner’s great coat pocket. The above is the outline of the case; but the cross-examination of the gallant prosecutor, by Mr Charnock, afforded abundance of amusement to a crowded court, in which the bench most heartily joined. The following amusing colloquy then took place: — Mr Charnock: Pray, Mr Batson, what are you ? — The Witness (in a very peremptory and significant tone) : Come, come, none of that; let’s have no insolence, if you please. (Loud laughter.)—Mr Charnock: I ask you, sir, what are you ?—Witness. And I tell you, sir, I will have none of your insolence, or you shall take the consequence. — Mr Charnock: Well, captain, I am not frightened; but I think you are a little choleric. — Witness: I know how to chastise insolence. (Peals of laughter.) —The Chairman: Mr Batson, the court will take care that no improper question shall be put to you; but really you must answer the learned counsel. — Mr Charnock: You will now, perhaps, answer my question, and tell the court what you are. — The Witness (greatly irritated) : What am I! Why, what are you? Why, I’m a man, and a gentleman — a gentleman of independent fortune — and that’s more than can be said of you. (Roars of laughter, in which the bench and bar most heartily joined.)—Mr Charnock: Well, the jury will be the best judges of that. — The Witness: What have they to do with the usages of gentlemen? (Immoderate laughter.) — The Chairman: Perhaps, Mr Batson, the best plan would be to answer the question. — The Witness (deliberately folding his arms and looking very fierce at the learned counsel) : Well now, sir, what do you want of me? Mind what you say. — Mr Charnock: Oh! pray don’t be in a passion. I want neither guns nor pistols. You can speak daggers, but use none. (Peals of laughter, in which the witness and the whole court joined.)—The Witness: Oh! never mind about that. Since you must know, I am an independent gentleman. — Mr Charnock: But as to your profession? — Witness: I profess nothing. (Loud laughter.) On the contrary, you profess a great deal. (Continued laughter.) I am a soldier; and now, what are you? (Loud laughter.) — Mr Charnock: You have this advantage of me: you are a gentleman, and I am not; but will you condescend to tell us your rank in the army? — The Witness: I hold no rank at present. — Mr Charnock: What was your former rank? Come, we shall get on last. — The Witness: Oh! no doubt, when you are not insolent. (Loud laughter.) I was captain in the 1st Life Guards, and sold out. — Mr Charnock: How long ago?—The Witness: Thirty years. What else do you want to know? —Mr Charnock: I shall not trouble you for your “travelled history.” — The Witness: And if you did, you would not get it. (Immense laughter.)—Mr Charnock Perhaps not; but still we must have the history of the felony. — The Witness: And you will learn it in the indictment. I thought lawyers were quick witted, and knew everything without asking. (Continued roars of laughter.) — Mr Charnock: Well, Captain, the law and the army do not agree, and so I must leave you — a collision would be rather dangerous. — After a little further sharp-shooting between the learned advocate and the gallant captain, this cross-examination dropped, and the gravity of the court was no longer disturbed. The jury found the prisoner guilty, but strongly recommended him to the mercy of the court on account of his extreme age, in which the gallant prosecutor most heartily joined. The prisoner was sentenced to twenty-one days’ solitary confinement in Brixton House of Correction.
A sentence of three weeks imprisonment in solitary confinement was imposed. However a petition from Mr Chubb, foreman, and seven members of jury, pleading that the guilty verdict was returned too hastily and prisoner should have been acquitted, with a covering letter from Arthur Rose of 65 Trinity Square, Newington, Surrey, was refused [National Archives ref. HO 18/120/46].
Henry had entered into a verbal duel with the defence counsel in which he claimed to be a soldier, but a gentleman of independent means. Under cross-examination he gave his former rank as a Captain in 1st Life Guards but that has not been corroborated and may only have been braggadocio.
For the 1851Census, Henry and Zobeida, with servants, were living at 23 Albert Road, St. Marylebone, London. Her birth place was listed as Lancashire.
Emily Margaret Batson of Mymms Villa, Albert Road, Regent’s Park, London had died 29 July 1851 [reg. St Pancras 9/1851] and was interred at Hanover Chapel General Burial Ground, registered as Zabaida Emily Margaret Batson, on the following 2 August.
The correspondence of Claire Clairmont reveals that she was a guest at Garbrand Hall, Ewell, in 1858.
Henry Batson sold Garbrand Hall in 1859 and in August of that year Miss Clairmont was staying with him at his new address, Westmoreland Lodge, Inner Park Road, Wimbledon.
Henry survived as a widower until 3 October 1863, when he expired at 62 Regency Square, Brighton, Sussex [reg. Brighton 12/1863]. His will was proved at the Principal Registry by the oath of Richard Ramsbottom Isherwood of Barton Court near Hungerford in the County of Berks Esquire his nephew* one of the Executors , 6 November 1863. Henry Batson, late Bengal Civil Service, was laid to rest in Brighton’s Extra Mural Cemetery.
A general view across the Extra Mural Cemetery, Brighton 2010
Photo by The Voice of Hassocks (CC 0 1.0)
* Son of Henry’s sister, Emma Batson, born about 1781, married, 3 May 1806 at Winkfield, Windsor, as his second wife, James Ramsbottom (1780-1861) of Clewer, Berks.
Brian Bouchard 2023