Muriel Venables Palin was born on 30 October 1883 in Gloucester, Gloucestershire, her father, Arnold, was 41, and her mother, Lydia, was 30. She was the tenth child born and there would be six more siblings to come.
Muriel was baptized by her Uncle Alfred Palin at Saint Luke's in Gloucester on September 9 1886 along with her baby brother John Francis Palin.
In 1918 her father died and on April 6, 1920 when she was 36 years old, Muriel married Reverend Hubert Edward Corlett in Barnwood, Gloucestershire. Sixteen days later on April 22, 1920 Muriel's mother Lydia Kate, and sisters Caroline Gertrude, Rhoda Alice, brother Douglas Vernon and his son William Alan, brother Alfred Hugh, his wife Dorothy, daughter Patricia and son Peter all boarded the SS Lapland in Southhampton to come to Canada. Muriel's other brothers Harry, Kyrke, Charlie, Cecil and sister Peggy were all ready in Canada and the baby sister Annette left England in November 1920.
I have often wondered how it was for the three siblings, Dora, Muriel and John, that stayed in England when the rest of the family emigrated to Canada. Dora was a career nurse and John had married in 1917 and Muriel was the vicar's wife. We know that Dora and John were close because we have many pictures of Dora and Ben, John's son and that they lived together for a short time as well.
Muriel and Hubert are a bit of a mystery. I have often wondered why there was not any children born to this marriage and why most pictures of Muriel look so staid.
Today I found this online. It was a memory given by a person who lived in Wolford and she wrote
Mrs Corlett, the vicar's wife, was said to be "not very strong" hence the need for the domestic help. Hardly any of the villagers saw her but I used to visit her and chat about the various people in the village. Sometimes she would let me help her feed her many cats. To me she seemed very lady-like and kind but I always thought she looked rather sad as though she had been used to something better than this rather run down rambling old vicarage in this small remote village. After a few years the staff, perhaps finding it rather quiet, drifted back to the London area, leaving Mr & Mrs Corlett to cope as best they could on their own. Mr Corlett fetched the milk daily from our farm. Sometimes he wouldn't have been over long past his usual time and then I would be asked to take the can of milk across to the vicarage. Mr Corlett was nearly always in his study to the left of the front door on these occasions writing his sermon for the next Sunday. I had been told to just knock and leave the milk by the front door but if Mr Corlett caught sight of me he would beckon me to wait and my reward was two Barker and Dobsons Butterscotch from a large round tin. I would skip home with one in my mouth and one getting a little sticky in my hand. The taste even outshone that of the lollipops I was so fond of. I must admit that if Mr Corlett was in his study when I took the milk across that lingered a little in front of the window until he looked up from his desk and spotted me there.
The above would tie in nicely with one picture that we do have of Muriel with a cat. I think the above author sums it up nicely where Muriel does look a little sad.
Hubert wrote a lovely obituary in the Wolford with Burmington Parish Magazine June 1951.