Several years ago whilst sorting through my fathers papers I found my great grandparents original wedding certificate from 1866. They lived in Plummers Row Whitechapel next to the Whitechapel Bell Foundry. This prompted me to start researching my family history and as I was still at work I had plenty of time on my hands. For one reason and another I didn't progress very far but have now picked up the trail again. The information available on-line is now much better. There were 2 Baltzer families in the UK both living in Whitechapel (together with Jack the Ripper!) during the late 19th century, which made my job quite easy. The church in Alie Street where my great grandparents where married is still there and although services are no longer held on account of the shortage of German Lutherans in the area, it still opens it's doors to the public a few times a year.
St. George's German Lutheran Church
However yesterday the trail took an alarming turn.
I stumbled across one Walter Baltzer sowing his seed in the Swansea area during the early 1900's. I immediately contacted my old chum Evans in Cardiff to ask him to try and pick up the Welsh Baltzer trail. Some of you may remember Paul Evans when he was the manager at the Hawley Sports Centre before somehow managing to get a job as a rep for Greene King covering North London sports clubs. I think Greene King were more Greene than King at the time. After single-handedly stemming the march of GK further south he finally admitted defeat and retired back to his native South Wales. Like most Welshman he has a way with words, fortunately spoken and written rather than sung, and is well renowned in the Whitchurch area of Cardiff for his poetry. On reading one of my early entries he sent through the following adaption of the well known G&S ditty:
The flowers that bloom in the Spring, tra-la
Have nothing to do with the moon.
He’s really a clever old thing, tra-la,
And at the allotment he’s king, tra-la,
And not such a gardening loon!
And not such a gardening loon!
And that’s what we mean when we say or we sing,
Hoorah for the flowers that bloom in the Spring!
Tra-la-la-la-laa, Tra-la-la-la-laa, etc.
The veggies that grow on his plot, tra-la
Win Chris every kind of award.
The moon is a load of old rot, tra-la,
He’s not such a silly old clot, tra-la,
No wonder the old bugger’s scored.
No wonder the old bugger’s scored.
And that’s what we praise as we gleefully sing,
Hoorah for the flowers and veg in the Spring!
Tra-la-la-la-laa, Tra-la-la-la-laa, etc.
All together now!
