The Shame of Being a Bastard, Folkestone's mysterious recluse; Captain George Anthony Lindsay Wilson (1832-1905) The catacombs, Kensal Green Cemetery

 Captain George Wilson was presented several times to Her Majesty at court

Rumours about the true identity of the reclusive George Boreham had been circulating in Folkestone’s polite society for years but when he died at the age of 74 on 22 January 1905 the whispers turned into full blown, public speculation. Some said that he was the Tichbourne claimant, others claimed that he was refugee French nobleman.  Some of the rumour mongering was sensationalist; that Boreham was Major Murray, who had been found guilty of justifiable homicide in 1868 when he had killed a blackmailing solicitor called Roberts in what became known as the Northumberland Street murder. Boreham was not Sir Roger Tichbourne, nor a French aristocrat or the disreputable Major Murray but his true identity, when revealed, caused almost as big a shock.  The man who had relinquished his former identity, abandoned friends and family, changed his name and hidden himself away in one of the most unfashionable places on the Kent coast would have been appalled to see his carefully guarded privacy invaded whilst his body was still barely cold in its coffin. Within hours of his demise the Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald had their reporters on the case and before he had been dead a week were outing him, detailing their findings on the front page under the headline “Romance of High Life; Folkestone’s Mysterious Recluse; His Identity Revealed; Former Society Favourite Dies In A Basement.”;

Much mystery has surrounded a gentleman who took up his residence here about thirty years ago, Rumour, as usual, has been busy, and in this case, as the years passed, the most extraordinary tales were woven. Perhaps there was some reasons for this, for every effort was made to hide the identity of him who passed away at No. 13 Alexandra-gardens, on Sunday last, at the age of 74. Even after death the same system of secrecy was adopted. Why should the public be curious?  

The newspaper thought that the shadowy solitary’s property investments in the town, almost 30 ‘valuable’ houses, many of which had been left standing empty, were sufficient reason to justify their unmasking of the recluse as being in the public interest. And so a reporter had been despatched to see John Andrew, Folkestone’s Registrar of Births, Marriages and Deaths, to offer the usual legal fee to inspect the register; “but the official sheltering himself behind what he stated to be his instructions, firmly but courteously declined to allow the book to be consulted.” The reporter next called upon Messers Hambrook and Johns, Undertakers, the firm that had been put in charge of the funeral arrangements. They also declined to divulge any information. Councillor Payer of the borough council, who was known to be one of the few people who had ever exchanged more than just a handful of words with the recluse cheerfully admitted to the paper that he was aware of his identity but refused to name him as he had promised to keep it a secret; “a promise is a promise and I mean to respect it,” he told them.

The old Kent port of Folkestone where George lived for 30 years

Eventually it was, as is so often the case, an anonymous informant who gave the newspaper the deceased’s real name. In the town he had been known as George Boreham for almost 30 years, the name borrowed from an old manservant of his. By this name he had conducted all his business in the town and by this name he was recorded on the census returns of 1881 and 1891. The many property investments that so perturbed the local newspaper were not transacted in his name; he placed all his trust in his housekeeper, Mary Campbell, an unmarried woman 11 years his junior and purchased his many houses in her name. If the relationship between the pair was another subject for the local gossips, this is not mentioned in any of the newspaper accounts.  Boreham’s real name was George Anthony Lindsay Wilson and he was the son of General Sir John Wilson, a British army officer, a veteran of the Peninsular War and twice acting Governor of Ceylon.  

The 1881 census return showing George living as a boarder in one the houses he bought in Mary Campbell's name

George has been born in 1832 but was not baptised until 5 January 1835 at St James in Westminster. His mother was Elizabeth Lindsay from Berwick in Northumberland. She was 24 when George was born, his father was 55. George was later told that his mother had died when he was a baby but his father brought him up with the help of his rather beautiful unmarried aunt, his mother’s sister. His father was wealthy, as well as a successful military career he was the sole heir of his own father, and the family lived at one of the grand, new villas in Westbourne Terrace.  George was educated at Rugby and Oxford and on going down from the university he took a commission in the Guards. He was presented at Buckingham Palace on several occasions and the Queen even gave him a small oil painting of a dog which later hung on the wall of the living room in Alexandra Gardens. By the age of 24 he was planning to be married and seemed to have a settled and prosperous future ahead of him in the military and as a family man in his own right. But disaster struck. His father died after a short illness in 1856 at the age of 76. George would no doubt have got over the shock of his father’s death, it was what was revealed in the old man’s will that completely changed his life.  

What his father had never told him was that he had never married his mother and that he was illegitimate. The will contained not only this bombshell but also revealed that his mother was alive and well and pretending to be his aunt. As he looked at his attractive, relatively young mother the scales fell from George’s eyes and he realised that his father had been raising his bastard whilst living in sin with his mother. He never got over the shock and felt obliged to abandon his mother, whom he never spoke to again, and to quit his place in society. Marriage was now out of the question and his imminent wedding was called off. He moved out of London to an estate in Brentwood in Essex. According to the Daily Mirror (Friday 27 January 1905) he “neglected his mansion and estate at Brentford, allowing his horses and cattle to roam about in a state of primitive nature, and as a result was placed for a brief period in an asylum.” Records show that he was admitted to the Essex Asylum at Warley in 1870 but the family solicitor battled to get him released into the care of a local doctor. In the 1871 census return he is listed as living at 11 High Street in Brentwood, a ‘visitor’ in the house of Joseph Earle, a general practitioner. Shortly afterwards he moved to Folkestone where, according to the Mirror, “for a time he stayed at the Clarendon Hotel, where he became attached to a governess named Miss Campbell, who alternately acted as his housekeeper and secretary, living with him till the last. He never married, but lived in the utmost seclusion, although he became notorious for strange freaks of philanthropy. For instance, he would often buy a whole row of stalls for a local theatre or other entertainment and give the tickets away indiscriminately.” The paper also said that “he became known as the "old gentleman of Alexandra-gardens," shunned public gaze, and seldom went out except at night, in a bath-chair.” The Shields Daily News (Monday 18 September 1905) claimed that when he moved to Folkestone it was apparent that “he was a man of considerable wealth, as he lived in good if quiet style, and was frequently seen driving down the Lees in a smart turn-out with two ponies.  Then suddenly he changed his mode of life. He turned a vegetarian, was more seen on the Lees, and never left his residence until after dark.”

The Essex Asylum at Warley near Brentwood

The Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald reported that he was secretive to the last and that there was no announcement of his funeral arrangements. As they had placed a reporter on surveillance outside the undertakers they were able to report that;

Shortly after ten clock last night, a “Herald” representative visited Alexandra-gardens having followed a single-horsed hearse. This drew down into Oxford-terrace, and a few minutes later eight bearers carried a massive oak coffin out of No. 13, Alexandra-gardens and deposited it in the hearse. This was then driven down Victoria-grove into, Shellons-street and Grace-hill, to the undertaker’s offices where the coffin was laid on tressels for the night. The brass plate the coffin bore the inscription: ‘‘George Lindsav Anthony Wilson. Died January 22nd, 1903. aged 73 years,” The remains will be interred in the Catacombs, Kensal Green, to-day. The body will be taken to the Metropolis by the 9.15 train from the Central Station.

George made no will and so his considerable fortune passed to the Crown. Luckily Mary Campbell, who was the legal owner of his property portfolio in Folkestone, was adequately taken care. His father was also buried at Kensal Green. His mother's last resting place is unknown. 

George's last resting place in the Catacombs at Kensal Green