• Born 13 July 1831, daughter of Edward Wigram (b.1802) and Catherine Smith.
• Full name 'Catherine Francis Wigram'. Often called 'Cathie' in her husband's memoir.
• First wife of Rev. John Barton of Cambridge (1836-1908).
• Gave birth to his first child, Emily Frances Barton (b.&d.1860) who died after only 3 months.
• Died on 15 May 1860, aged 28, of 'consumption' (TB).

From *Memoirs of John Barton:

"It was during my stay at Braemar [Summer of 1857] that I met for the first time one whose life was afterwards for a few short months to be linked with mine – Catherine Francis Wigram, elder daughter of Mr. Edward Wigram of 2 Connaught Place West, Hyde Park, a niece of our member for Cambridge University, Mr. Loftus Wigram and of the Bishop of Rochester of that day, and of a former vice-chancellor and distinguished member of the Chancery Bar, Sir James Wigram. She was travelling through Braemar with her cousin Mrs. Brown Douglas and the hotel being full, they put up at the manse with Mr. Cobham, We went in there to see them, being already acquainted with both in a measure from the fact of Mary Wright having just married a sister of Mrs. Brown Douglas whilst Miss Wigram’s eldest brother Frederic was a very good friend of Filmer Sulivan’s. They only stayed a night or two but it was a link in a chain of circumstances which add to a closer intercourse later on."


"And now followed [in 1858] another great event in my life, my engagement to the dear friend who had always helped me so much by her letters and deep religious earnestness, whose name has already been mentioned by me so often in this review of my life, Catherine Wigram. She had come to stay for a week or more with her brother Frederic who had been ordained just before to the curacy of St. Paul’s, Cambridge. For many months past we had corresponded as friends and certainly on my part without any thought of anything further or closer, but I then became instinctively aware that the friendship had on her side at any rate, ripened into love and the discovery soon developed a corresponding feeling towards her so that when I actually first spoke to her we found that we had both been for some time cherishing the same regard for each other. I think what had kept me back had been in great measure the uncertainty I felt as to the view which her parents might have of the matter as I was scarcely able at that time to call myself the possessor of any earthly wealth whatever hopes I might entertain of the ultimate result of our law-suit then pending. Both Frederic however and his father were very kind and gave me every encouragement, though Mr. Wigram did not wish the engagement to be regarded as a settled thing until my university course was over and I should be more in a position of independence. Somehow I was wonderfully kept from all anxiety in the matter and I went on with my mathematical studies and attended to the Church Missionary Union of which I had then become secretary, just as before. Indeed I remember feeling as if my usual routine duties had acquired a new zest and interest for me from the new brightness which had come into my life and the conscious possession of the lover of a kindred spirit."


"Our wedding day was accordingly fixed for May 5th [1859] and a most happy occasion it was. We were married at St. John’s, Paddington and afterwards drove down to Purley, the pretty country residence of my Cathie’s uncle, Mr. John Henry Smith. There we spent a fortnight in the most approved fashion. Our house, a charming bachelor’s snuggery was embowered in trees with a lovely bright garden to ramble about in a green meadow beyond stretching on to the foot of the chalk downs. From Purley we went to Osmaston to be present at the double wedding of two further Wright girls, the elder to Mr. Bridges Plumpton of Fredville, Kent and the younger, Fanny, to our dear brother Frederic Wigram. He had won her heart during the previous summer while detained at the manor by dear Cathie’s illness and the marriage was a subject of great rejoicing to both families as it was to ourselves individually. The wedding was without exception the prettiest and most perfect in all respects that I was ever present at or can expect to be again."


"[In 1860] We went accordingly to Brighton and took lodgings in the Crescent and a little before Christmas moved to Torquay. There it became increasingly manifest that consumption had laid its hand upon her and though I still hoped against hope, and trusted to the effect of our proposed move to India to restore her, yet her strength gradually declined. On the 17th of March she became the mother of a little girl, whom we had baptized privately as Emily Frances and from that time she sank rapidly. The end came at last somewhat suddenly on May 15th. We had removed to another house, Hervona (?), a detached villa, where we had much too many stairs to climb and on the 13th I had taken her out in her chair round the New Cut as it was called, a beautiful drive encircling the hill behind our house and commanding long views of the rocky coast with a lovely foreground of green meadow and pink and white apple orchards. Though very weak it seemed to revive her for the moment, but that very afternoon a fresh attack came on and it was soon evident that the end was very near. She was quite conscious almost to the last and in the intervals of spasm sent many precious messages to those she loved. I do not enter into details here, because I wrote at the time a very full record of those last days which any of my children who desire to do so may read. But I must quote one message here which she sent to Filmer Sulivan. She was sending texts to different friends and chose as her text for him 1 John 1.7. “Yes”, she said to one who was standing at her bedside, “give him that and tell him to preach it more and more. Tell him it’s the only resting place, nothing less will do and we want nothing more. It’s the only resting place when we come to die.”