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  • #7267
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Thomas Josiah Tay

      22 Feb 1816 – 16 November 1878

       

      “Make us glad according to the days wherein thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein we have seen evil.”

      Thomas Josiah Tay 1878

       

      I first came across the name TAY in the 1844 will of John Tomlinson (1766-1844), gentleman of Wergs, Tettenhall. John’s friends, trustees and executors were Edward Moore, surgeon of Halesowen, and Edward Tay, timber merchant of Wolverhampton.

       

      1844 will John Tomlinson

       

      Edward Moore (born in 1805) was the son of John’s wife’s (Sarah Hancox born 1772) sister Lucy Hancox (born 1780) from her first marriage in 1801. In 1810 widowed Lucy married Josiah Tay (1775-1837).

      Edward Tay was the son of Sarah Hancox sister Elizabeth (born 1778), who married Thomas Tay in 1800. Thomas Tay (1770-1841) and Josiah Tay were brothers.

      Edward Tay (1803-1862) was born in Sedgley and was buried in Penn. He was innkeeper of The Fighting Cocks, Dudley Road, Wolverhampton, as well as a builder and timber merchant, according to various censuses, trade directories, his marriage registration where his father Thomas Tay is also a timber merchant, as well as being named as a timber merchant in John Tomlinsons will.

      John Tomlinson’s daughter Catherine (born in 1794) married Benjamin Smith in Tettenhall in 1822. William Tomlinson (1797-1867), Catherine’s brother, and my 3x great grandfather, was one of the witnesses.

      1822 William Tomlinson witness

       

      Their daughter Matilda Sarah Smith (1823-1910) married Thomas Josiah Tay in 1850 in Birmingham. Thomas Josiah Tay (1816-1878) was Edward Tay’s brother, the sons of Elizabeth Hancox and Thomas Tay.

      Therefore, William Hancox 1737-1816 (the father of Sarah, Elizabeth and Lucy), was Matilda’s great grandfather and Thomas Josiah Tay’s grandfather.

       

      Thomas Josiah Tay’s relationship to me is the husband of first cousin four times removed, as well as my first cousin, five times removed.

       

      In 1837 Thomas Josiah Tay is mentioned in the will of his uncle Josiah Tay.

      1837 will Josiah Tay

       

      In 1841 Thomas Josiah Tay appears on the Stafford criminal registers for an “attempt to procure miscarriage”. He was found not guilty.

      According to the Staffordshire Advertiser on 14th March 1840 the listing for the Assizes included: “Thomas Ashmall and Thomas Josiah Tay, for administering noxious ingredients to Hannah Evans, of Wolverhampton, with intent to procure abortion.”

      The London Morning Herald on 19th March 1840 provides further information: “Mr Thomas Josiah Tay, a chemist and druggist, surrendered to take his trial on a charge of having administered drugs to Hannah Lear, now Hannah Evans, with intent to procure abortion.” She entered the service of Tay in 1837 and after four months “an intimacy was formed” and two months later she was “enciente”. Tay advised her to take some pills and a draught which he gave her and she became very ill. The prosecutrix admitted that she had made no mention of this until 1939. Verdict: not guilty.

      However, the case of Thomas Josiah Tay is also mentioned in a couple of law books, and the story varies slightly. In the 1841 Reports of Cases Argued and Rules at Nisi Prius, the Regina vs Ashmall and Tay case states that Thomas Ashmall feloniously, unlawfully, and maliciously, did use a certain instrument, and that Thomas Josiah Tay did procure the instrument, counsel and command Ashmall in the use of it. It concludes that Tay was not compellable to plead to the indictment, and that he did not.

      Thomas Josiah Tay 1840

      Thomas Josiah Tay 1840 2

      Thomas Josiah Tay 1840 3

      Thomas Josiah Tay 1840 4

       

      The Regina vs Ashmall and Tay case is also mentioned in the Encyclopedia of Forms and Precedents, 1896.

      Thomas Josiah Tay 1840 5

      Thomas Josiah Tay 1840 6

       

      In 1845 Thomas Josiah Tay married Isabella Southwick in Tettenhall. Two years later in 1847 Isabella died.

      In 1850 Thomas Josiah married Matilda Sarah Smith. (granddaughter of John Tomlinson, as mentioned above)

      On the 1851 census Thomas Josiah Tay was a farmer of 100 acres employing two labourers in Shelfield, Walsall, Staffordshire. Thomas Josiah and Matilda Sarah have a daughter Matilda under a year old, and they have a live in house servant.

      In 1861 Thomas Josiah Tay, his wife and their four children Ann, James, Josiah and Alice, live in Chelmarsh, Shropshire. He was a farmer of 224 acres. Mercy Smith, Matilda’s sister, lives with them, a 28 year old dairy maid.

      In 1863 Thomas Josiah Tay of Hampton Lode (Chelmarsh) Shropshire was bankrupt. Creditors include Frederick Weaver, druggist of Wolverhampton.

      In 1869 Thomas Josiah Tay was again bankrupt. He was an innkeeper at The Fighting Cocks on Dudley Road, Wolverhampton, at the time, the same inn as his uncle Edward Tay, aforementioned timber merchant.

       

      Fighting Cocks Inn

       

       

      In 1871, Thomas Josiah Tay, his wife Matilda, and their three children Alice, Edward and Maryann, were living in Birmingham. Thomas Josiah was a commercial traveller.

       

      He died on the 16th November 1878 at the age of 62 and was buried in Darlaston, Walsall. On his gravestone:

      “Make us glad according to the days wherein thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein we have seen evil.” Psalm XC 15 verse.

       

      Edward Moore, surgeon, was also a MAGISTRATE in later years. On the 1871 census he states his occupation as “magistrate for counties Worcester and Stafford, and deputy lieutenant of Worcester, formerly surgeon”. He lived at Townsend House in Halesowen for many years. His wifes name was PATTERN Lucas. Her mothers name was Pattern Hewlitt from Birmingham, an unusal name that I have not heard before. On the 1871 census, Edward’s son was a 22 year old solicitor.

      In 1861 an article appeared in the newspapers about the state of the morality of the women of Dudley. It was claimed that all the local magistrates agreed with the premise of the article, concerning unmarried women and their attitudes towards having illegitimate children. Letters appeared in subsequent newspapers signed by local magistrates, including Edward Moore, strongly disagreeing.

      Staffordshire Advertiser 17 August 1861:

      Dudley women 1861

      #6336
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        The Hamstall Ridware Connection

        Stubbs and Woods

        Hamstall RidwareHamstall Ridware

         

         

        Charles Tomlinson‘s (1847-1907) wife Emma Grattidge (1853-1911) was born in Wolverhampton, the daughter and youngest child of William Grattidge (1820-1887) born in Foston, Derbyshire, and Mary Stubbs (1819-1880), born in Burton on Trent, daughter of Solomon Stubbs.

        Solomon Stubbs (1781-1857) was born in Hamstall Ridware in 1781, the son of Samuel and Rebecca.  Samuel Stubbs (1743-) and Rebecca Wood (1754-) married in 1769 in Darlaston.  Samuel and Rebecca had six other children, all born in Darlaston. Sadly four of them died in infancy. Son John was born in 1779 in Darlaston and died two years later in Hamstall Ridware in 1781, the same year that Solomon was born there.

        But why did they move to Hamstall Ridware?

        Samuel Stubbs was born in 1743 in Curdworth, Warwickshire (near to Birmingham).  I had made a mistake on the tree (along with all of the public trees on the Ancestry website) and had Rebecca Wood born in Cheddleton, Staffordshire.  Rebecca Wood from Cheddleton was also born in 1843, the right age for the marriage.  The Rebecca Wood born in Darlaston in 1754 seemed too young, at just fifteen years old at the time of the marriage.  I couldn’t find any explanation for why a woman from Cheddleton would marry in Darlaston and then move to Hamstall Ridware.  People didn’t usually move around much other than intermarriage with neighbouring villages, especially women.  I had a closer look at the Darlaston Rebecca, and did a search on her father William Wood.  I found his 1784 will online in which he mentions his daughter Rebecca, wife of Samuel Stubbs.  Clearly the right Rebecca Wood was the one born in Darlaston, which made much more sense.

        An excerpt from William Wood’s 1784 will mentioning daughter Rebecca married to Samuel Stubbs:

        Wm Wood will

         

        But why did they move to Hamstall Ridware circa 1780?

        I had not intially noticed that Solomon Stubbs married again the year after his wife Phillis Lomas (1787-1844) died.  Solomon married Charlotte Bell in 1845 in Burton on Trent and on the marriage register, Solomon’s father Samuel Stubbs occupation was mentioned: Samuel was a buckle maker.

        Marriage of Solomon Stubbs and Charlotte Bell, father Samuel Stubbs buckle maker:

        Samuel Stubbs buckle maker

         

        A rudimentary search on buckle making in the late 1700s provided a possible answer as to why Samuel and Rebecca left Darlaston in 1781.  Shoe buckles had gone out of fashion, and by 1781 there were half as many buckle makers in Wolverhampton as there had been previously.

        “Where there were 127 buckle makers at work in Wolverhampton, 68 in Bilston and 58 in Birmingham in 1770, their numbers had halved in 1781.”

        via “historywebsite”(museum/metalware/steel)

        Steel buckles had been the height of fashion, and the trade became enormous in Wolverhampton.  Wolverhampton was a steel working town, renowned for its steel jewellery which was probably of many types.  The trade directories show great numbers of “buckle makers”.  Steel buckles were predominantly made in Wolverhampton: “from the late 1760s cut steel comes to the fore, from the thriving industry of the Wolverhampton area”. Bilston was also a great centre of buckle making, and other areas included Walsall. (It should be noted that Darlaston, Walsall, Bilston and Wolverhampton are all part of the same area)

        In 1860, writing in defence of the Wolverhampton Art School, George Wallis talks about the cut steel industry in Wolverhampton.  Referring to “the fine steel workers of the 17th and 18th centuries” he says: “Let them remember that 100 years ago [sc. c. 1760] a large trade existed with France and Spain in the fine steel goods of Birmingham and Wolverhampton, of which the latter were always allowed to be the best both in taste and workmanship.  … A century ago French and Spanish merchants had their houses and agencies at Birmingham for the purchase of the steel goods of Wolverhampton…..The Great Revolution in France put an end to the demand for fine steel goods for a time and hostile tariffs finished what revolution began”.

         

        The next search on buckle makers, Wolverhampton and Hamstall Ridware revealed an unexpected connecting link.

        In Riotous Assemblies: Popular Protest in Hanoverian England by Adrian Randall:

        Riotous Assembles

        Hamstall Ridware

        In Walsall in 1750 on “Restoration Day” a crowd numbering 300 assembled, mostly buckle makers,  singing  Jacobite songs and other rebellious and riotous acts.  The government was particularly worried about a curious meeting known as the “Jubilee” in Hamstall Ridware, which may have been part of a conspiracy for a Jacobite uprising.

         

        But this was thirty years before Samuel and Rebecca moved to Hamstall Ridware and does not help to explain why they moved there around 1780, although it does suggest connecting links.

        Rebecca’s father, William Wood, was a brickmaker.  This was stated at the beginning of his will.  On closer inspection of the will, he was a brickmaker who owned four acres of brick kilns, as well as dwelling houses, shops, barns, stables, a brewhouse, a malthouse, cattle and land.

        A page from the 1784 will of William Wood:

        will Wm Wood

         

        The 1784 will of William Wood of Darlaston:

        I William Wood the elder of Darlaston in the county of Stafford, brickmaker, being of sound and disposing mind memory and understanding (praised be to god for the same) do make publish and declare my last will and testament in manner and form following (that is to say) {after debts and funeral expense paid etc} I give to my loving wife Mary the use usage wear interest and enjoyment of all my goods chattels cattle stock in trade ~ money securities for money personal estate and effects whatsoever and wheresoever to hold unto her my said wife for and during the term of her natural life providing she so long continues my widow and unmarried and from or after her decease or intermarriage with any future husband which shall first happen.

        Then I give all the said goods chattels cattle stock in trade money securites for money personal estate and effects unto my son Abraham Wood absolutely and forever. Also I give devise and bequeath unto my said wife Mary all that my messuages tenement or dwelling house together with the malthouse brewhouse barn stableyard garden and premises to the same belonging situate and being at Darlaston aforesaid and now in my own possession. Also all that messuage tenement or dwelling house together with the shop garden and premises with the appurtenances to the same ~ belonging situate in Darlaston aforesaid and now in the several holdings or occupation of George Knowles and Edward Knowles to hold the aforesaid premises and every part thereof with the appurtenances to my said wife Mary for and during the term of her natural life provided she so long continues my widow and unmarried. And from or after her decease or intermarriage with a future husband which shall first happen. Then I give and devise the aforesaid premises and every part thereof with the appurtenances unto my said son Abraham Wood his heirs and assigns forever.

        Also I give unto my said wife all that piece or parcel of land or ground inclosed and taken out of Heath Field in the parish of Darlaston aforesaid containing four acres or thereabouts (be the same more or less) upon which my brick kilns erected and now in my own possession. To hold unto my said wife Mary until my said son Abraham attains his age of twenty one years if she so long continues my widow and unmarried as aforesaid and from and immediately after my said son Abraham attaining his age of twenty one years or my said wife marrying again as aforesaid which shall first happen then I give the said piece or parcel of land or ground and premises unto my said son Abraham his heirs and assigns forever.

        And I do hereby charge all the aforesaid premises with the payment of the sum of twenty pounds a piece to each of my daughters namely Elizabeth the wife of Ambrose Dudall and Rebecca the wife of Samuel Stubbs which said sum of twenty pounds each I devise may be paid to them by my said son Abraham when and so soon as he attains his age of twenty one years provided always and my mind and will is that if my said son Abraham should happen to depart this life without leaving issue of his body lawfully begotten before he attains his age of twenty one years then I give and devise all the aforesaid premises and every part thereof with the appurtenances so given to my said son Abraham as aforesaid unto my said son William Wood and my said daughter Elizabeth Dudall and Rebecca Stubbs their heirs and assigns forever equally divided among them share and share alike as tenants in common and not as joint tenants. And lastly I do hereby nominate constitute and appoint my said wife Mary and my said son Abraham executrix and executor of this my will.

         

         

        The marriage of William Wood (1725-1784) and Mary Clews (1715-1798) in 1749 was in Hamstall Ridware.

        Wm Wood Mary Clews

         

        Mary was eleven years Williams senior, and it appears that they both came from Hamstall Ridware and moved to Darlaston after they married. Clearly Rebecca had extended family there (notwithstanding any possible connecting links between the Stubbs buckle makers of Darlaston and the Hamstall Ridware Jacobites thirty years prior).  When the buckle trade collapsed in Darlaston, they likely moved to find employment elsewhere, perhaps with the help of Rebecca’s family.

        I have not yet been able to find deaths recorded anywhere for either Samuel or Rebecca (there are a couple of deaths recorded for a Samuel Stubbs, one in 1809 in Wolverhampton, and one in 1810 in Birmingham but impossible to say which, if either, is the right one with the limited information, and difficult to know if they stayed in the Hamstall Ridware area or perhaps moved elsewhere)~ or find a reason for their son Solomon to be in Burton upon Trent, an evidently prosperous man with several properties including an earthenware business, as well as a land carrier business.

        #6306
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Looking for Robert Staley

           

          William Warren (1835-1880) of Newhall (Stapenhill) married Elizabeth Staley (1836-1907) in 1858. Elizabeth was born in Newhall, the daughter of John Staley (1795-1876) and Jane Brothers. John was born in Newhall, and Jane was born in Armagh, Ireland, and they were married in Armagh in 1820. Elizabeths older brothers were born in Ireland: William in 1826 and Thomas in Dublin in 1830. Francis was born in Liverpool in 1834, and then Elizabeth in Newhall in 1836; thereafter the children were born in Newhall.

          Marriage of John Staley and Jane Brothers in 1820:

          1820 marriage Armagh

           

           

          My grandmother related a story about an Elizabeth Staley who ran away from boarding school and eloped to Ireland, but later returned. The only Irish connection found so far is Jane Brothers, so perhaps she meant Elizabeth Staley’s mother. A boarding school seems unlikely, and it would seem that it was John Staley who went to Ireland.

          The 1841 census states Jane’s age as 33, which would make her just 12 at the time of her marriage. The 1851 census states her age as 44, making her 13 at the time of her 1820 marriage, and the 1861 census estimates her birth year as a more likely 1804. Birth records in Ireland for her have not been found. It’s possible, perhaps, that she was in service in the Newhall area as a teenager (more likely than boarding school), and that John and Jane ran off to get married in Ireland, although I haven’t found any record of a child born to them early in their marriage. John was an agricultural labourer, and later a coal miner.

          John Staley was the son of Joseph Staley (1756-1838) and Sarah Dumolo (1764-). Joseph and Sarah were married by licence in Newhall in 1782. Joseph was a carpenter on the marriage licence, but later a collier (although not necessarily a miner).

          The Derbyshire Record Office holds records of  an “Estimate of Joseph Staley of Newhall for the cost of continuing to work Pisternhill Colliery” dated 1820 and addresssed to Mr Bloud at Calke Abbey (presumably the owner of the mine)

          Josephs parents were Robert Staley and Elizabeth. I couldn’t find a baptism or birth record for Robert Staley. Other trees on an ancestry site had his birth in Elton, but with no supporting documents. Robert, as stated in his 1795 will, was a Yeoman.

          “Yeoman: A former class of small freeholders who farm their own land; a commoner of good standing.”
          “Husbandman: The old word for a farmer below the rank of yeoman. A husbandman usually held his land by copyhold or leasehold tenure and may be regarded as the ‘average farmer in his locality’. The words ‘yeoman’ and ‘husbandman’ were gradually replaced in the later 18th and 19th centuries by ‘farmer’.”

          He left a number of properties in Newhall and Hartshorne (near Newhall) including dwellings, enclosures, orchards, various yards, barns and acreages. It seemed to me more likely that he had inherited them, rather than moving into the village and buying them.

          There is a mention of Robert Staley in a 1782 newpaper advertisement.

          “Fire Engine To Be Sold.  An exceedingly good fire engine, with the boiler, cylinder, etc in good condition. For particulars apply to Mr Burslem at Burton-upon-Trent, or Robert Staley at Newhall near Burton, where the engine may be seen.”

          fire engine

           

          Was the fire engine perhaps connected with a foundry or a coal mine?

          I noticed that Robert Staley was the witness at a 1755 marriage in Stapenhill between Barbara Burslem and Richard Daston the younger esquire. The other witness was signed Burslem Jnr.

           

          Looking for Robert Staley

           

          I assumed that once again, in the absence of the correct records, a similarly named and aged persons baptism had been added to the tree regardless of accuracy, so I looked through the Stapenhill/Newhall parish register images page by page. There were no Staleys in Newhall at all in the early 1700s, so it seemed that Robert did come from elsewhere and I expected to find the Staleys in a neighbouring parish. But I still didn’t find any Staleys.

          I spoke to a couple of Staley descendants that I’d met during the family research. I met Carole via a DNA match some months previously and contacted her to ask about the Staleys in Elton. She also had Robert Staley born in Elton (indeed, there were many Staleys in Elton) but she didn’t have any documentation for his birth, and we decided to collaborate and try and find out more.

          I couldn’t find the earlier Elton parish registers anywhere online, but eventually found the untranscribed microfiche images of the Bishops Transcripts for Elton.

          via familysearch:
          “In its most basic sense, a bishop’s transcript is a copy of a parish register. As bishop’s transcripts generally contain more or less the same information as parish registers, they are an invaluable resource when a parish register has been damaged, destroyed, or otherwise lost. Bishop’s transcripts are often of value even when parish registers exist, as priests often recorded either additional or different information in their transcripts than they did in the original registers.”

           

          Unfortunately there was a gap in the Bishops Transcripts between 1704 and 1711 ~ exactly where I needed to look. I subsequently found out that the Elton registers were incomplete as they had been damaged by fire.

          I estimated Robert Staleys date of birth between 1710 and 1715. He died in 1795, and his son Daniel died in 1805: both of these wills were found online. Daniel married Mary Moon in Stapenhill in 1762, making a likely birth date for Daniel around 1740.

          The marriage of Robert Staley (assuming this was Robert’s father) and Alice Maceland (or Marsland or Marsden, depending on how the parish clerk chose to spell it presumably) was in the Bishops Transcripts for Elton in 1704. They were married in Elton on 26th February. There followed the missing parish register pages and in all likelihood the records of the baptisms of their first children. No doubt Robert was one of them, probably the first male child.

          (Incidentally, my grandfather’s Marshalls also came from Elton, a small Derbyshire village near Matlock.  The Staley’s are on my grandmothers Warren side.)

          The parish register pages resume in 1711. One of the first entries was the baptism of Robert Staley in 1711, parents Thomas and Ann. This was surely the one we were looking for, and Roberts parents weren’t Robert and Alice.

          But then in 1735 a marriage was recorded between Robert son of Robert Staley (and this was unusual, the father of the groom isn’t usually recorded on the parish register) and Elizabeth Milner. They were married on the 9th March 1735. We know that the Robert we were looking for married an Elizabeth, as her name was on the Stapenhill baptisms of their later children, including Joseph Staleys.  The 1735 marriage also fit with the assumed birth date of Daniel, circa 1740. A baptism was found for a Robert Staley in 1738 in the Elton registers, parents Robert and Elizabeth, as well as the baptism in 1736 for Mary, presumably their first child. Her burial is recorded the following year.

          The marriage of Robert Staley and Elizabeth Milner in 1735:

          rbt staley marriage 1735

           

          There were several other Staley couples of a similar age in Elton, perhaps brothers and cousins. It seemed that Thomas and Ann’s son Robert was a different Robert, and that the one we were looking for was prior to that and on the missing pages.

          Even so, this doesn’t prove that it was Elizabeth Staleys great grandfather who was born in Elton, but no other birth or baptism for Robert Staley has been found. It doesn’t explain why the Staleys moved to Stapenhill either, although the Enclosures Act and the Industrial Revolution could have been factors.

          The 18th century saw the rise of the Industrial Revolution and many renowned Derbyshire Industrialists emerged. They created the turning point from what was until then a largely rural economy, to the development of townships based on factory production methods.

          The Marsden Connection

          There are some possible clues in the records of the Marsden family.  Robert Staley married Alice Marsden (or Maceland or Marsland) in Elton in 1704.  Robert Staley is mentioned in the 1730 will of John Marsden senior,  of Baslow, Innkeeper (Peacock Inne & Whitlands Farm). He mentions his daughter Alice, wife of Robert Staley.

          In a 1715 Marsden will there is an intriguing mention of an alias, which might explain the different spellings on various records for the name Marsden:  “MARSDEN alias MASLAND, Christopher – of Baslow, husbandman, 28 Dec 1714. son Robert MARSDEN alias MASLAND….” etc.

          Some potential reasons for a move from one parish to another are explained in this history of the Marsden family, and indeed this could relate to Robert Staley as he married into the Marsden family and his wife was a beneficiary of a Marsden will.  The Chatsworth Estate, at various times, bought a number of farms in order to extend the park.

          THE MARSDEN FAMILY
          OXCLOSE AND PARKGATE
          In the Parishes of
          Baslow and Chatsworth

          by
          David Dalrymple-Smith

          John Marsden (b1653) another son of Edmund (b1611) faired well. By the time he died in
          1730 he was publican of the Peacock, the Inn on Church Lane now called the Cavendish
          Hotel, and the farmer at “Whitlands”, almost certainly Bubnell Cliff Farm.”

          “Coal mining was well known in the Chesterfield area. The coalfield extends as far as the
          Gritstone edges, where thin seams outcrop especially in the Baslow area.”

          “…the occupants were evicted from the farmland below Dobb Edge and
          the ground carefully cleared of all traces of occupation and farming. Shelter belts were
          planted especially along the Heathy Lea Brook. An imposing new drive was laid to the
          Chatsworth House with the Lodges and “The Golden Gates” at its northern end….”

          Although this particular event was later than any events relating to Robert Staley, it’s an indication of how farms and farmland disappeared, and a reason for families to move to another area:

          “The Dukes of Devonshire (of Chatsworth)  were major figures in the aristocracy and the government of the
          time. Such a position demanded a display of wealth and ostentation. The 6th Duke of
          Devonshire, the Bachelor Duke, was not content with the Chatsworth he inherited in 1811,
          and immediately started improvements. After major changes around Edensor, he turned his
          attention at the north end of the Park. In 1820 plans were made extend the Park up to the
          Baslow parish boundary. As this would involve the destruction of most of the Farm at
          Oxclose, the farmer at the Higher House Samuel Marsden (b1755) was given the tenancy of
          Ewe Close a large farm near Bakewell.
          Plans were revised in 1824 when the Dukes of Devonshire and Rutland “Exchanged Lands”,
          reputedly during a game of dice. Over 3300 acres were involved in several local parishes, of
          which 1000 acres were in Baslow. In the deal Devonshire acquired the southeast corner of
          Baslow Parish.
          Part of the deal was Gibbet Moor, which was developed for “Sport”. The shelf of land
          between Parkgate and Robin Hood and a few extra fields was left untouched. The rest,
          between Dobb Edge and Baslow, was agricultural land with farms, fields and houses. It was
          this last part that gave the Duke the opportunity to improve the Park beyond his earlier
          expectations.”

           

          The 1795 will of Robert Staley.

          Inriguingly, Robert included the children of his son Daniel Staley in his will, but omitted to leave anything to Daniel.  A perusal of Daniels 1808 will sheds some light on this:  Daniel left his property to his six reputed children with Elizabeth Moon, and his reputed daughter Mary Brearly. Daniels wife was Mary Moon, Elizabeths husband William Moons daughter.

          The will of Robert Staley, 1795:

          1795 will 2

          1795 Rbt Staley will

           

          The 1805 will of Daniel Staley, Robert’s son:

          This is the last will and testament of me Daniel Staley of the Township of Newhall in the parish of Stapenhill in the County of Derby, Farmer. I will and order all of my just debts, funeral and testamentary expenses to be fully paid and satisfied by my executors hereinafter named by and out of my personal estate as soon as conveniently may be after my decease.

          I give, devise and bequeath to Humphrey Trafford Nadin of Church Gresely in the said County of Derby Esquire and John Wilkinson of Newhall aforesaid yeoman all my messuages, lands, tenements, hereditaments and real and personal estates to hold to them, their heirs, executors, administrators and assigns until Richard Moon the youngest of my reputed sons by Elizabeth Moon shall attain his age of twenty one years upon trust that they, my said trustees, (or the survivor of them, his heirs, executors, administrators or assigns), shall and do manage and carry on my farm at Newhall aforesaid and pay and apply the rents, issues and profits of all and every of my said real and personal estates in for and towards the support, maintenance and education of all my reputed children by the said Elizabeth Moon until the said Richard Moon my youngest reputed son shall attain his said age of twenty one years and equally share and share and share alike.

          And it is my will and desire that my said trustees or trustee for the time being shall recruit and keep up the stock upon my farm as they in their discretion shall see occasion or think proper and that the same shall not be diminished. And in case any of my said reputed children by the said Elizabeth Moon shall be married before my said reputed youngest son shall attain his age of twenty one years that then it is my will and desire that non of their husbands or wives shall come to my farm or be maintained there or have their abode there. That it is also my will and desire in case my reputed children or any of them shall not be steady to business but instead shall be wild and diminish the stock that then my said trustees or trustee for the time being shall have full power and authority in their discretion to sell and dispose of all or any part of my said personal estate and to put out the money arising from the sale thereof to interest and to pay and apply the interest thereof and also thereunto of the said real estate in for and towards the maintenance, education and support of all my said reputed children by the said
          Elizabeth Moon as they my said trustees in their discretion that think proper until the said Richard Moon shall attain his age of twenty one years.

          Then I give to my grandson Daniel Staley the sum of ten pounds and to each and every of my sons and daughters namely Daniel Staley, Benjamin Staley, John Staley, William Staley, Elizabeth Dent and Sarah Orme and to my niece Ann Brearly the sum of five pounds apiece.

          I give to my youngest reputed son Richard Moon one share in the Ashby Canal Navigation and I direct that my said trustees or trustee for the time being shall have full power and authority to pay and apply all or any part of the fortune or legacy hereby intended for my youngest reputed son Richard Moon in placing him out to any trade, business or profession as they in their discretion shall think proper.
          And I direct that to my said sons and daughters by my late wife and my said niece shall by wholly paid by my said reputed son Richard Moon out of the fortune herby given him. And it is my will and desire that my said reputed children shall deliver into the hands of my executors all the monies that shall arise from the carrying on of my business that is not wanted to carry on the same unto my acting executor and shall keep a just and true account of all disbursements and receipts of the said business and deliver up the same to my acting executor in order that there may not be any embezzlement or defraud amongst them and from and immediately after my said reputed youngest son Richard Moon shall attain his age of twenty one years then I give, devise and bequeath all my real estate and all the residue and remainder of my personal estate of what nature and kind whatsoever and wheresoever unto and amongst all and every my said reputed sons and daughters namely William Moon, Thomas Moon, Joseph Moon, Richard Moon, Ann Moon, Margaret Moon and to my reputed daughter Mary Brearly to hold to them and their respective heirs, executors, administrator and assigns for ever according to the nature and tenure of the same estates respectively to take the same as tenants in common and not as joint tenants.

          And lastly I nominate and appoint the said Humphrey Trafford Nadin and John Wilkinson executors of this my last will and testament and guardians of all my reputed children who are under age during their respective minorities hereby revoking all former and other wills by me heretofore made and declaring this only to be my last will.

          In witness whereof I the said Daniel Staley the testator have to this my last will and testament set my hand and seal the eleventh day of March in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and five.

           

          #6281
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            The Measham Thatchers

            Orgills, Finches and Wards

            Measham is a large village in north west Leicestershire, England, near the Derbyshire, Staffordshire and Warwickshire boundaries. Our family has a penchant for border straddling, and the Orgill’s of Measham take this a step further living on the boundaries of four counties.  Historically it was in an exclave of Derbyshire absorbed into Leicestershire in 1897, so once again we have two sets of county records to search.

            ORGILL

            Richard Gretton, the baker of Swadlincote and my great grandmother Florence Nightingale Grettons’ father, married Sarah Orgill (1840-1910) in 1861.

            (Incidentally, Florence Nightingale Warren nee Gretton’s first child Hildred born in 1900 had the middle name Orgill. Florence’s brother John Orgill Gretton emigrated to USA.)

            When they first married, they lived with Sarah’s widowed mother Elizabeth in Measham.  Elizabeth Orgill is listed on the 1861 census as a farmer of two acres.

            Sarah Orgill’s father Matthew Orgill (1798-1859) was a thatcher, as was his father Matthew Orgill (1771-1852).

            Matthew Orgill the elder left his property to his son Henry:

            Matthew Orgills will

             

            Sarah’s mother Elizabeth (1803-1876) was also an Orgill before her marriage to Matthew.

            According to Pigot & Co’s Commercial Directory for Derbyshire, in Measham in 1835 Elizabeth Orgill was a straw bonnet maker, an ideal occupation for a thatchers wife.

            Matthew Orgill, thatcher, is listed in White’s directory in 1857, and other Orgill’s are mentioned in Measham:

            Mary Orgill, straw hat maker; Henry Orgill, grocer; Daniel Orgill, painter; another Matthew Orgill is a coal merchant and wheelwright. Likewise a number of Orgill’s are listed in the directories for Measham in the subsequent years, as farmers, plumbers, painters, grocers, thatchers, wheelwrights, coal merchants and straw bonnet makers.

             

            Matthew and Elizabeth Orgill, Measham Baptist church:

            Orgill grave

             

            According to a history of thatching, for every six or seven thatchers appearing in the 1851 census there are now less than one.  Another interesting fact in the history of thatched roofs (via thatchinginfo dot com):

            The Watling Street Divide…
            The biggest dividing line of all, that between the angular thatching of the Northern and Eastern traditions and the rounded Southern style, still roughly follows a very ancient line; the northern section of the old Roman road of Watling Street, the modern A5. Seemingly of little significance today; this was once the border between two peoples. Agreed in the peace treaty, between the Saxon King Alfred and Guthrum, the Danish Viking leader; over eleven centuries ago.
            After making their peace, various Viking armies settled down, to the north and east of the old road; firstly, in what was known as The Danelaw and later in Norse kingdoms, based in York. They quickly formed a class of farmers and peasants. Although the Saxon kings soon regained this area; these people stayed put. Their influence is still seen, for example, in the widespread use of boarded gable ends, so common in Danish thatching.
            Over time, the Southern and Northern traditions have slipped across the old road, by a few miles either way. But even today, travelling across the old highway will often bring the differing thatching traditions quickly into view.

            Pear Tree Cottage, Bosworth Road, Measham. 1900.  Matthew Orgill was a thatcher living on Bosworth road.

            Bosworth road

             

            FINCH

            Matthew the elder married Frances Finch 1771-1848, also of Measham.  On the 1851 census Matthew is an 80 year old thatcher living with his daughter Mary and her husband Samuel Piner, a coal miner.

            Henry Finch 1743- and Mary Dennis 1749- , both of Measham, were Frances parents.  Henry’s father was also Henry Finch, born in 1707 in Measham, and he married Frances Ward, also born in 1707, and also from Measham.

            WARD

             

            The ancient boundary between the kingdom of Mercia and the Danelaw

            I didn’t find much information on the history of Measham, but I did find a great deal of ancient history on the nearby village of Appleby Magna, two miles away.  The parish records indicate that the Ward and Finch branches of our family date back to the 1500’s in the village, and we can assume that the ancient history of the neighbouring village would be relevant to our history.

            There is evidence of human settlement in Appleby from the early Neolithic period, 6,000 years ago, and there are also Iron Age and Bronze Age sites in the vicinity.  There is evidence of further activity within the village during the Roman period, including evidence of a villa or farm and a temple.  Appleby is near three known Roman roads: Watling Street, 10 miles south of the village; Bath Lane, 5 miles north of the village; and Salt Street, which forms the parish’s south boundary.

            But it is the Scandinavian invasions that are particularly intriguing, with regard to my 58% Scandinavian DNA (and virtually 100% Midlands England ancestry). Repton is 13 miles from Measham. In the early 10th century Chilcote, Measham and Willesley were part of the royal Derbyshire estate of Repton.

            The arrival of Scandinavian invaders in the second half of the ninth century caused widespread havoc throughout northern England. By the AD 870s the Danish army was occupying Mercia and it spent the winter of 873-74 at Repton, the headquarters of the Mercian kings. The events are recorded in detail in the Peterborough manuscript of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles…

            Although the Danes held power for only 40 years, a strong, even subversive, Danish element remained in the population for many years to come. 

            A Scandinavian influence may also be detected among the field names of the parish. Although many fields have relatively modern names, some clearly have elements which reach back to the time of Danish incursion and control.

            The Borders:

            The name ‘aeppel byg’ is given in the will of Wulfic Spot of AD 1004……………..The decision at Domesday to include this land in Derbyshire, as one of Burton Abbey’s Derbyshire manors, resulted in the division of the village of Appleby Magna between the counties of Leicester and Derby for the next 800 years

            Richard Dunmore’s Appleby Magma website.

            This division of Appleby between Leicestershire and Derbyshire persisted from Domesday until 1897, when the recently created county councils (1889) simplified the administration of many villages in this area by a radical realignment of the boundary:

            Appleby

             

            I would appear that our family not only straddle county borders, but straddle ancient kingdom borders as well.  This particular branch of the family (we assume, given the absence of written records that far back) were living on the edge of the Danelaw and a strong element of the Danes survives to this day in my DNA.

             

            #6273
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              The Housley Letters
              THE NEIGHBORHOOD

               

              From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

              In July 1872, Joseph wrote to George who had been gone for 21 years: “You would not know Heanor now. It has got such a large place. They have got a town hall built where Charles’ stone yard was.”

              Then Joseph took George on a tour from Smalley to Heanor pointing out all the changes:

              Smalley Map

              Smalley Farms

               

              “Now we commence at Firby Brook. There is no public house there. It is turned into a market gardener’s place. Morley smithy stands as it did. You would know Chris Shepperd that used to keep the farm opposite. He is dead and the farm is got into other hands.”  (In 1851, Chris Shepherd, age 39, and his widowed mother, Mary, had a farm of 114 acres. Charles Carrington, age 14, worked for them as a “cow boy.” In 1851 Hollingsworths also lived at Morely smithy.) “The Rose and Crown stands and Antony Kerry keeps that yet.”  (In 1851, the census listed Kerry as a mason, builder, victicular, and farmer. He lived with his wife and four sons and numerous servants.) “They have pulled down Samuel Kerry’s farm house down and built him one in another place. Now we come to the Bell that was but they have pulled the old one down and made Isaac Potters House into the new Bell.” (In 1851, The Bell was run by Ann Weston, a widow.)

              Smalley Roundhouse:

              Smalley Roundhouse

               

              “The old Round House is standing yet but they have took the machine away. The Public House at the top end is kept by Mrs. Turton. I don’t know who she was before she married. Now we get to old Tom Oldknow. The old house is pulled down and a new one is put up but it is gone out of the family altogether. Now Jack is living at Stanley. He married Ann that used to live at Barbers at Smalley. That finishes Smalley. Now for Taghill. The old Jolly Collier is standing yet and a man of the name of Remmington keeps the new one opposite. Jack Foulkes son Jack used to keep that but has left just lately. There is the Nottingham House, Nags Head, Cross Keys and then the Red Lion but houses built on both sides all the way down Taghill. Then we get to the town hall that is built on the ground that Charles’ Stone Yard used to be. There is Joseph Watson’s shop standing yet in the old place. The King of Prussia, the White Lion and Hanks that is the Public House. You see there are more than there used to be. The Magistrate sits at the Town Hall and tries cases there every fortnight.”

              .

              #6271
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                The Housley Letters

                FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS

                from Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

                 

                George apparently asked about old friends and acquaintances and the family did their best to answer although Joseph wrote in 1873: “There is very few of your old cronies that I know of knocking about.”

                In Anne’s first letter she wrote about a conversation which Robert had with EMMA LYON before his death and added “It (his death) was a great trouble to Lyons.” In her second letter Anne wrote: “Emma Lyon is to be married September 5. I am going the Friday before if all is well. There is every prospect of her being comfortable. MRS. L. always asks after you.” In 1855 Emma wrote: “Emma Lyon now Mrs. Woolhouse has got a fine boy and a pretty fuss is made with him. They call him ALFRED LYON WOOLHOUSE.”

                (Interesting to note that Elizabeth Housley, the eldest daughter of Samuel and Elizabeth, was living with a Lyon family in Derby in 1861, after she left Belper workhouse.  The Emma listed on the census in 1861 was 10 years old, and so can not be the Emma Lyon mentioned here, but it’s possible, indeed likely, that Peter Lyon the baker was related to the Lyon’s who were friends of the Housley’s.  The mention of a sea captain in the Lyon family begs the question did Elizabeth Housley meet her husband, George William Stafford, a seaman, through some Lyon connections, but to date this remains a mystery.)

                Elizabeth Housley living with Peter Lyon and family in Derby St Peters in 1861:

                Lyon 1861 census

                 

                A Henrietta Lyon was married in 1860. Her father was Matthew, a Navy Captain. The 1857 Derby Directory listed a Richard Woolhouse, plumber, glazier, and gas fitter on St. Peter’s Street. Robert lived in St. Peter’s parish at the time of his death. An Alfred Lyon, son of Alfred and Jemima Lyon 93 Friargate, Derby was baptised on December 4, 1877. An Allen Hewley Lyon, born February 1, 1879 was baptised June 17 1879.

                 

                Anne wrote in August 1854: “KERRY was married three weeks since to ELIZABETH EATON. He has left Smith some time.” Perhaps this was the same person referred to by Joseph:BILL KERRY, the blacksmith for DANIEL SMITH, is working for John Fletcher lace manufacturer.” According to the 1841 census, Elizabeth age 12, was the oldest daughter of Thomas and Rebecca Eaton. She would certainly have been of marriagable age in 1854. A William Kerry, age 14, was listed as a blacksmith’s apprentice in the 1851 census; but another William Kerry who was 29 in 1851 was already working for Daniel Smith as a blacksmith. REBECCA EATON was listed in the 1851 census as a widow serving as a nurse in the John Housley household. The 1881 census lists the family of William Kerry, blacksmith, as Jane, 19; William 13; Anne, 7; and Joseph, 4. Elizabeth is not mentioned but Bill is not listed as a widower.

                Anne also wrote in 1854 that she had not seen or heard anything of DICK HANSON for two years. Joseph wrote that he did not know Old BETTY HANSON’S son. A Richard Hanson, age 24 in 1851, lived with a family named Moore. His occupation was listed as “journeyman knitter.” An Elizabeth Hanson listed as 24 in 1851 could hardly be “Old Betty.” Emma wrote in June 1856 that JOE OLDKNOW age 27 had married Mrs. Gribble’s servant age 17.

                Anne wrote that JOHN SPENCER had not been since father died.” The only John Spencer in Smalley in 1841 was four years old. He would have been 11 at the time of William Housley’s death. Certainly, the two could have been friends, but perhaps young John was named for his grandfather who was a crony of William’s living in a locality not included in the Smalley census.

                TAILOR ALLEN had lost his wife and was still living in the old house in 1872. JACK WHITE had died very suddenly, and DR. BODEN had died also. Dr. Boden’s first name was Robert. He was 53 in 1851, and was probably the Robert, son of Richard and Jane, who was christened in Morely in 1797. By 1861, he had married Catherine, a native of Smalley, who was at least 14 years his junior–18 according to the 1871 census!

                Among the family’s dearest friends were JOSEPH AND ELIZABETH DAVY, who were married some time after 1841. Mrs. Davy was born in 1812 and her husband in 1805. In 1841, the Kidsley Park farm household included DANIEL SMITH 72, Elizabeth 29 and 5 year old Hannah Smith. In 1851, Mr. Davy’s brother William and 10 year old Emma Davy were visiting from London. Joseph reported the death of both Davy brothers in 1872; Joseph apparently died first.

                Mrs. Davy’s father, was a well known Quaker. In 1856, Emma wrote: “Mr. Smith is very hearty and looks much the same.” He died in December 1863 at the age of 94. George Fox, the founder of the Quakers visited Kidsley Park in 1650 and 1654.

                Mr. Davy died in 1863, but in 1854 Anne wrote how ill he had been for two years. “For two last winters we never thought he would live. He is now able to go out a little on the pony.” In March 1856, his wife wrote, “My husband is in poor health and fell.” Later in 1856, Emma wrote, “Mr. Davy is living which is a great wonder. Mrs. Davy is very delicate but as good a friend as ever.”

                In The Derbyshire Advertiser and Journal, 15 May 1863:

                Davy Death

                 

                Whenever the girls sent greetings from Mrs. Davy they used her Quaker speech pattern of “thee and thy.”  Mrs. Davy wrote to George on March 21 1856 sending some gifts from his sisters and a portrait of their mother–“Emma is away yet and A is so much worse.” Mrs. Davy concluded: “With best wishes for thy health and prosperity in this world and the next I am thy sincere friend.”

                Mrs. Davy later remarried. Her new husband was W.T. BARBER. The 1861 census lists William Barber, 35, Bachelor of Arts, Cambridge, living with his 82 year old widowed mother on an 135 acre farm with three servants. One of these may have been the Ann who, according to Joseph, married Jack Oldknow. By 1871 the farm, now occupied by William, 47 and Elizabeth, 57, had grown to 189 acres. Meanwhile, Kidsley Park Farm became the home of the Housleys’ cousin Selina Carrington and her husband Walker Martin. Both Barbers were still living in 1881.

                Mrs. Davy was described in Kerry’s History of Smalley as “an accomplished and exemplary lady.” A piece of her poetry “Farewell to Kidsley Park” was published in the history. It was probably written when Elizabeth moved to the Barber farm. Emma sent one of her poems to George. It was supposed to be about their house. “We have sent you a piece of poetry that Mrs. Davy composed about our ‘Old House.’ I am sure you will like it though you may not understand all the allusions she makes use of as well as we do.”

                Kiddsley Park Farm, Smalley, in 1898.  (note that the Housley’s lived at Kiddsley Grange Farm, and the Davy’s at neighbouring Kiddsley Park Farm)

                Kiddsley Park Farm

                 

                Emma was not sure if George wanted to hear the local gossip (“I don’t know whether such little particulars will interest you”), but shared it anyway. In November 1855: “We have let the house to Mr. Gribble. I dare say you know who he married, Matilda Else. They came from Lincoln here in March. Mrs. Gribble gets drunk nearly every day and there are such goings on it is really shameful. So you may be sure we have not very pleasant neighbors but we have very little to do with them.”

                John Else and his wife Hannah and their children John and Harriet (who were born in Smalley) lived in Tag Hill in 1851. With them lived a granddaughter Matilda Gribble age 3 who was born in Lincoln. A Matilda, daughter of John and Hannah, was christened in 1815. (A Sam Else died when he fell down the steps of a bar in 1855.)

                #6261
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  From Tanganyika with Love

                  continued

                  With thanks to Mike Rushby.

                  Mchewe Estate. 11th July 1931.

                  Dearest Family,

                  You say that you would like to know more about our neighbours. Well there is
                  not much to tell. Kath Wood is very good about coming over to see me. I admire her
                  very much because she is so capable as well as being attractive. She speaks very
                  fluent Ki-Swahili and I envy her the way she can carry on a long conversation with the
                  natives. I am very slow in learning the language possibly because Lamek and the
                  houseboy both speak basic English.

                  I have very little to do with the Africans apart from the house servants, but I do
                  run a sort of clinic for the wives and children of our employees. The children suffer chiefly
                  from sore eyes and worms, and the older ones often have bad ulcers on their legs. All
                  farmers keep a stock of drugs and bandages.

                  George also does a bit of surgery and last month sewed up the sole of the foot
                  of a boy who had trodden on the blade of a panga, a sort of sword the Africans use for
                  hacking down bush. He made an excellent job of it. George tells me that the Africans
                  have wonderful powers of recuperation. Once in his bachelor days, one of his men was
                  disembowelled by an elephant. George washed his “guts” in a weak solution of
                  pot.permang, put them back in the cavity and sewed up the torn flesh and he
                  recovered.

                  But to get back to the neighbours. We see less of Hicky Wood than of Kath.
                  Hicky can be charming but is often moody as I believe Irishmen often are.
                  Major Jones is now at home on his shamba, which he leaves from time to time
                  for temporary jobs on the district roads. He walks across fairly regularly and we are
                  always glad to see him for he is a great bearer of news. In this part of Africa there is no
                  knocking or ringing of doorbells. Front doors are always left open and visitors always
                  welcome. When a visitor approaches a house he shouts “Hodi”, and the owner of the
                  house yells “Karibu”, which I believe means “Come near” or approach, and tea is
                  produced in a matter of minutes no matter what hour of the day it is.
                  The road that passes all our farms is the only road to the Gold Diggings and
                  diggers often drop in on the Woods and Major Jones and bring news of the Goldfields.
                  This news is sometimes about gold but quite often about whose wife is living with
                  whom. This is a great country for gossip.

                  Major Jones now has his brother Llewyllen living with him. I drove across with
                  George to be introduced to him. Llewyllen’s health is poor and he looks much older than
                  his years and very like the portrait of Trader Horn. He has the same emaciated features,
                  burning eyes and long beard. He is proud of his Welsh tenor voice and often bursts into
                  song.

                  Both brothers are excellent conversationalists and George enjoys walking over
                  sometimes on a Sunday for a bit of masculine company. The other day when George
                  walked across to visit the Joneses, he found both brothers in the shamba and Llew in a
                  great rage. They had been stooping to inspect a water furrow when Llew backed into a
                  hornets nest. One furious hornet stung him on the seat and another on the back of his
                  neck. Llew leapt forward and somehow his false teeth shot out into the furrow and were
                  carried along by the water. When George arrived Llew had retrieved his teeth but
                  George swears that, in the commotion, the heavy leather leggings, which Llew always
                  wears, had swivelled around on his thin legs and were calves to the front.
                  George has heard that Major Jones is to sell pert of his land to his Swedish brother-in-law, Max Coster, so we will soon have another couple in the neighbourhood.

                  I’ve had a bit of a pantomime here on the farm. On the day we went to Tukuyu,
                  all our washing was stolen from the clothes line and also our new charcoal iron. George
                  reported the matter to the police and they sent out a plain clothes policeman. He wears
                  the long white Arab gown called a Kanzu much in vogue here amongst the African elite
                  but, alas for secrecy, huge black police boots protrude from beneath the Kanzu and, to
                  add to this revealing clue, the askari springs to attention and salutes each time I pass by.
                  Not much hope of finding out the identity of the thief I fear.

                  George’s furrow was entirely successful and we now have water running behind
                  the kitchen. Our drinking water we get from a lovely little spring on the farm. We boil and
                  filter it for safety’s sake. I don’t think that is necessary. The furrow water is used for
                  washing pots and pans and for bath water.

                  Lots of love,
                  Eleanor

                  Mchewe Estate. 8th. August 1931

                  Dearest Family,

                  I think it is about time I told you that we are going to have a baby. We are both
                  thrilled about it. I have not seen a Doctor but feel very well and you are not to worry. I
                  looked it up in my handbook for wives and reckon that the baby is due about February
                  8th. next year.

                  The announcement came from George, not me! I had been feeling queasy for
                  days and was waiting for the right moment to tell George. You know. Soft lights and
                  music etc. However when I was listlessly poking my food around one lunch time
                  George enquired calmly, “When are you going to tell me about the baby?” Not at all
                  according to the book! The problem is where to have the baby. February is a very wet
                  month and the nearest Doctor is over 50 miles away at Tukuyu. I cannot go to stay at
                  Tukuyu because there is no European accommodation at the hospital, no hotel and no
                  friend with whom I could stay.

                  George thinks I should go South to you but Capetown is so very far away and I
                  love my little home here. Also George says he could not come all the way down with
                  me as he simply must stay here and get the farm on its feet. He would drive me as far
                  as the railway in Northern Rhodesia. It is a difficult decision to take. Write and tell me what
                  you think.

                  The days tick by quietly here. The servants are very willing but have to be
                  supervised and even then a crisis can occur. Last Saturday I was feeling squeamish and
                  decided not to have lunch. I lay reading on the couch whilst George sat down to a
                  solitary curry lunch. Suddenly he gave an exclamation and pushed back his chair. I
                  jumped up to see what was wrong and there, on his plate, gleaming in the curry gravy
                  were small bits of broken glass. I hurried to the kitchen to confront Lamek with the plate.
                  He explained that he had dropped the new and expensive bottle of curry powder on
                  the brick floor of the kitchen. He did not tell me as he thought I would make a “shauri” so
                  he simply scooped up the curry powder, removed the larger pieces of glass and used
                  part of the powder for seasoning the lunch.

                  The weather is getting warmer now. It was very cold in June and July and we had
                  fires in the daytime as well as at night. Now that much of the land has been cleared we
                  are able to go for pleasant walks in the weekends. My favourite spot is a waterfall on the
                  Mchewe River just on the boundary of our land. There is a delightful little pool below the
                  waterfall and one day George intends to stock it with trout.

                  Now that there are more Europeans around to buy meat the natives find it worth
                  their while to kill an occasional beast. Every now and again a native arrives with a large
                  bowl of freshly killed beef for sale. One has no way of knowing whether the animal was
                  healthy and the meat is often still warm and very bloody. I hated handling it at first but am
                  becoming accustomed to it now and have even started a brine tub. There is no other
                  way of keeping meat here and it can only be kept in its raw state for a few hours before
                  going bad. One of the delicacies is the hump which all African cattle have. When corned
                  it is like the best brisket.

                  See what a housewife I am becoming.
                  With much love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. Sept.6th. 1931

                  Dearest Family,

                  I have grown to love the life here and am sad to think I shall be leaving
                  Tanganyika soon for several months. Yes I am coming down to have the baby in the
                  bosom of the family. George thinks it best and so does the doctor. I didn’t mention it
                  before but I have never recovered fully from the effects of that bad bout of malaria and
                  so I have been persuaded to leave George and our home and go to the Cape, in the
                  hope that I shall come back here as fit as when I first arrived in the country plus a really
                  healthy and bouncing baby. I am torn two ways, I long to see you all – but how I would
                  love to stay on here.

                  George will drive me down to Northern Rhodesia in early October to catch a
                  South bound train. I’ll telegraph the date of departure when I know it myself. The road is
                  very, very bad and the car has been giving a good deal of trouble so, though the baby
                  is not due until early February, George thinks it best to get the journey over soon as
                  possible, for the rains break in November and the the roads will then be impassable. It
                  may take us five or six days to reach Broken Hill as we will take it slowly. I am looking
                  forward to the drive through new country and to camping out at night.
                  Our days pass quietly by. George is out on the shamba most of the day. He
                  goes out before breakfast on weekdays and spends most of the day working with the
                  men – not only supervising but actually working with his hands and beating the labourers
                  at their own jobs. He comes to the house for meals and tea breaks. I potter around the
                  house and garden, sew, mend and read. Lamek continues to be a treasure. he turns out
                  some surprising dishes. One of his specialities is stuffed chicken. He carefully skins the
                  chicken removing all bones. He then minces all the chicken meat and adds minced onion
                  and potatoes. He then stuffs the chicken skin with the minced meat and carefully sews it
                  together again. The resulting dish is very filling because the boned chicken is twice the
                  size of a normal one. It lies on its back as round as a football with bloated legs in the air.
                  Rather repulsive to look at but Lamek is most proud of his accomplishment.
                  The other day he produced another of his masterpieces – a cooked tortoise. It
                  was served on a dish covered with parsley and crouched there sans shell but, only too
                  obviously, a tortoise. I took one look and fled with heaving diaphragm, but George said
                  it tasted quite good. He tells me that he has had queerer dishes produced by former
                  cooks. He says that once in his hunting days his cook served up a skinned baby
                  monkey with its hands folded on its breast. He says it would take a cannibal to eat that
                  dish.

                  And now for something sad. Poor old Llew died quite suddenly and it was a sad
                  shock to this tiny community. We went across to the funeral and it was a very simple and
                  dignified affair. Llew was buried on Joni’s farm in a grave dug by the farm boys. The
                  body was wrapped in a blanket and bound to some boards and lowered into the
                  ground. There was no service. The men just said “Good-bye Llew.” and “Sleep well
                  Llew”, and things like that. Then Joni and his brother-in-law Max, and George shovelled
                  soil over the body after which the grave was filled in by Joni’s shamba boys. It was a
                  lovely bright afternoon and I thought how simple and sensible a funeral it was.
                  I hope you will be glad to have me home. I bet Dad will be holding thumbs that
                  the baby will be a girl.

                  Very much love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Note
                  “There are no letters to my family during the period of Sept. 1931 to June 1932
                  because during these months I was living with my parents and sister in a suburb of
                  Cape Town. I had hoped to return to Tanganyika by air with my baby soon after her
                  birth in Feb.1932 but the doctor would not permit this.

                  A month before my baby was born, a company called Imperial Airways, had
                  started the first passenger service between South Africa and England. One of the night
                  stops was at Mbeya near my husband’s coffee farm, and it was my intention to take the
                  train to Broken Hill in Northern Rhodesia and to fly from there to Mbeya with my month
                  old baby. In those days however, commercial flying was still a novelty and the doctor
                  was not sure that flying at a high altitude might not have an adverse effect upon a young
                  baby.

                  He strongly advised me to wait until the baby was four months old and I did this
                  though the long wait was very trying to my husband alone on our farm in Tanganyika,
                  and to me, cherished though I was in my old home.

                  My story, covering those nine long months is soon told. My husband drove me
                  down from Mbeya to Broken Hill in NorthernRhodesia. The journey was tedious as the
                  weather was very hot and dry and the road sandy and rutted, very different from the
                  Great North road as it is today. The wooden wheel spokes of the car became so dry
                  that they rattled and George had to bind wet rags around them. We had several
                  punctures and with one thing and another I was lucky to catch the train.
                  My parents were at Cape Town station to welcome me and I stayed
                  comfortably with them, living very quietly, until my baby was born. She arrived exactly
                  on the appointed day, Feb.8th.

                  I wrote to my husband “Our Charmian Ann is a darling baby. She is very fair and
                  rather pale and has the most exquisite hands, with long tapering fingers. Daddy
                  absolutely dotes on her and so would you, if you were here. I can’t bear to think that you
                  are so terribly far away. Although Ann was born exactly on the day, I was taken quite by
                  surprise. It was awfully hot on the night before, and before going to bed I had a fancy for
                  some water melon. The result was that when I woke in the early morning with labour
                  pains and vomiting I thought it was just an attack of indigestion due to eating too much
                  melon. The result was that I did not wake Marjorie until the pains were pretty frequent.
                  She called our next door neighbour who, in his pyjamas, drove me to the nursing home
                  at breakneck speed. The Matron was very peeved that I had left things so late but all
                  went well and by nine o’clock, Mother, positively twittering with delight, was allowed to
                  see me and her first granddaughter . She told me that poor Dad was in such a state of
                  nerves that he was sick amongst the grapevines. He says that he could not bear to go
                  through such an anxious time again, — so we will have to have our next eleven in
                  Tanganyika!”

                  The next four months passed rapidly as my time was taken up by the demands
                  of my new baby. Dr. Trudy King’s method of rearing babies was then the vogue and I
                  stuck fanatically to all the rules he laid down, to the intense exasperation of my parents
                  who longed to cuddle the child.

                  As the time of departure drew near my parents became more and more reluctant
                  to allow me to face the journey alone with their adored grandchild, so my brother,
                  Graham, very generously offered to escort us on the train to Broken Hill where he could
                  put us on the plane for Mbeya.

                  Eleanor Rushby

                   

                  Mchewe Estate. June 15th 1932

                  Dearest Family,

                  You’ll be glad to know that we arrived quite safe and sound and very, very
                  happy to be home.The train Journey was uneventful. Ann slept nearly all the way.
                  Graham was very kind and saw to everything. He even sat with the baby whilst I went
                  to meals in the dining car.

                  We were met at Broken Hill by the Thoms who had arranged accommodation for
                  us at the hotel for the night. They also drove us to the aerodrome in the morning where
                  the Airways agent told us that Ann is the first baby to travel by air on this section of the
                  Cape to England route. The plane trip was very bumpy indeed especially between
                  Broken Hill and Mpika. Everyone was ill including poor little Ann who sicked up her milk
                  all over the front of my new coat. I arrived at Mbeya looking a sorry caricature of Radiant
                  Motherhood. I must have been pale green and the baby was snow white. Under the
                  circumstances it was a good thing that George did not meet us. We were met instead
                  by Ken Menzies, the owner of the Mbeya Hotel where we spent the night. Ken was
                  most fatherly and kind and a good nights rest restored Ann and me to our usual robust
                  health.

                  Mbeya has greatly changed. The hotel is now finished and can accommodate
                  fifty guests. It consists of a large main building housing a large bar and dining room and
                  offices and a number of small cottage bedrooms. It even has electric light. There are
                  several buildings out at the aerodrome and private houses going up in Mbeya.
                  After breakfast Ken Menzies drove us out to the farm where we had a warm
                  welcome from George, who looks well but rather thin. The house was spotless and the
                  new cook, Abel, had made light scones for tea. George had prepared all sorts of lovely
                  surprises. There is a new reed ceiling in the living room and a new dresser gay with
                  willow pattern plates which he had ordered from England. There is also a writing table
                  and a square table by the door for visitors hats. More personal is a lovely model ship
                  which George assembled from one of those Hobbie’s kits. It puts the finishing touch to
                  the rather old world air of our living room.

                  In the bedroom there is a large double bed which George made himself. It has
                  strips of old car tyres nailed to a frame which makes a fine springy mattress and on top
                  of this is a thick mattress of kapok.In the kitchen there is a good wood stove which
                  George salvaged from a Mission dump. It looks a bit battered but works very well. The
                  new cook is excellent. The only blight is that he will wear rubber soled tennis shoes and
                  they smell awful. I daren’t hurt his feelings by pointing this out though. Opposite the
                  kitchen is a new laundry building containing a forty gallon hot water drum and a sink for
                  washing up. Lovely!

                  George has been working very hard. He now has forty acres of coffee seedlings
                  planted out and has also found time to plant a rose garden and fruit trees. There are
                  orange and peach trees, tree tomatoes, paw paws, guavas and berries. He absolutely
                  adores Ann who has been very good and does not seem at all unsettled by the long
                  journey.

                  It is absolutely heavenly to be back and I shall be happier than ever now that I
                  have a baby to play with during the long hours when George is busy on the farm,
                  Thank you for all your love and care during the many months I was with you. Ann
                  sends a special bubble for granddad.

                  Your very loving,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate Mbeya July 18th 1932

                  Dearest Family,

                  Ann at five months is enchanting. She is a very good baby, smiles readily and is
                  gaining weight steadily. She doesn’t sleep much during the day but that does not
                  matter, because, apart from washing her little things, I have nothing to do but attend to
                  her. She sleeps very well at night which is a blessing as George has to get up very
                  early to start work on the shamba and needs a good nights rest.
                  My nights are not so good, because we are having a plague of rats which frisk
                  around in the bedroom at night. Great big ones that come up out of the long grass in the
                  gorge beside the house and make cosy homes on our reed ceiling and in the thatch of
                  the roof.

                  We always have a night light burning so that, if necessary, I can attend to Ann
                  with a minimum of fuss, and the things I see in that dim light! There are gaps between
                  the reeds and one night I heard, plop! and there, before my horrified gaze, lay a newly
                  born hairless baby rat on the floor by the bed, plop, plop! and there lay two more.
                  Quite dead, poor things – but what a careless mother.

                  I have also seen rats scampering around on the tops of the mosquito nets and
                  sometimes we have them on our bed. They have a lovely game. They swarm down
                  the cord from which the mosquito net is suspended, leap onto the bed and onto the
                  floor. We do not have our net down now the cold season is here and there are few
                  mosquitoes.

                  Last week a rat crept under Ann’s net which hung to the floor and bit her little
                  finger, so now I tuck the net in under the mattress though it makes it difficult for me to
                  attend to her at night. We shall have to get a cat somewhere. Ann’s pram has not yet
                  arrived so George carries her when we go walking – to her great content.
                  The native women around here are most interested in Ann. They come to see
                  her, bearing small gifts, and usually bring a child or two with them. They admire my child
                  and I admire theirs and there is an exchange of gifts. They produce a couple of eggs or
                  a few bananas or perhaps a skinny fowl and I hand over sugar, salt or soap as they
                  value these commodities. The most lavish gift went to the wife of Thomas our headman,
                  who produced twin daughters in the same week as I had Ann.

                  Our neighbours have all been across to welcome me back and to admire the
                  baby. These include Marion Coster who came out to join her husband whilst I was in
                  South Africa. The two Hickson-Wood children came over on a fat old white donkey.
                  They made a pretty picture sitting astride, one behind the other – Maureen with her arms
                  around small Michael’s waist. A native toto led the donkey and the children’ s ayah
                  walked beside it.

                  It is quite cold here now but the sun is bright and the air dry. The whole
                  countryside is beautifully green and we are a very happy little family.

                  Lots and lots of love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate August 11th 1932

                  Dearest Family,

                  George has been very unwell for the past week. He had a nasty gash on his
                  knee which went septic. He had a swelling in the groin and a high temperature and could
                  not sleep at night for the pain in his leg. Ann was very wakeful too during the same
                  period, I think she is teething. I luckily have kept fit though rather harassed. Yesterday the
                  leg looked so inflamed that George decided to open up the wound himself. he made
                  quite a big cut in exactly the right place. You should have seen the blackish puss
                  pouring out.

                  After he had thoroughly cleaned the wound George sewed it up himself. he has
                  the proper surgical needles and gut. He held the cut together with his left hand and
                  pushed the needle through the flesh with his right. I pulled the needle out and passed it
                  to George for the next stitch. I doubt whether a surgeon could have made a neater job
                  of it. He is still confined to the couch but today his temperature is normal. Some
                  husband!

                  The previous week was hectic in another way. We had a visit from lions! George
                  and I were having supper about 8.30 on Tuesday night when the back verandah was
                  suddenly invaded by women and children from the servants quarters behind the kitchen.
                  They were all yelling “Simba, Simba.” – simba means lions. The door opened suddenly
                  and the houseboy rushed in to say that there were lions at the huts. George got up
                  swiftly, fetched gun and ammunition from the bedroom and with the houseboy carrying
                  the lamp, went off to investigate. I remained at the table, carrying on with my supper as I
                  felt a pioneer’s wife should! Suddenly something big leapt through the open window
                  behind me. You can imagine what I thought! I know now that it is quite true to say one’s
                  hair rises when one is scared. However it was only Kelly, our huge Irish wolfhound,
                  taking cover.

                  George returned quite soon to say that apparently the commotion made by the
                  women and children had frightened the lions off. He found their tracks in the soft earth
                  round the huts and a bag of maize that had been playfully torn open but the lions had
                  moved on.

                  Next day we heard that they had moved to Hickson-Wood’s shamba. Hicky
                  came across to say that the lions had jumped over the wall of his cattle boma and killed
                  both his white Muskat riding donkeys.
                  He and a friend sat up all next night over the remains but the lions did not return to
                  the kill.

                  Apart from the little set back last week, Ann is blooming. She has a cap of very
                  fine fair hair and clear blue eyes under straight brow. She also has lovely dimples in both
                  cheeks. We are very proud of her.

                  Our neighbours are picking coffee but the crops are small and the price is low. I
                  am amazed that they are so optimistic about the future. No one in these parts ever
                  seems to grouse though all are living on capital. They all say “Well if the worst happens
                  we can always go up to the Lupa Diggings.”

                  Don’t worry about us, we have enough to tide us over for some time yet.

                  Much love to all,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 28th Sept. 1932

                  Dearest Family,

                  News! News! I’m going to have another baby. George and I are delighted and I
                  hope it will be a boy this time. I shall be able to have him at Mbeya because things are
                  rapidly changing here. Several German families have moved to Mbeya including a
                  German doctor who means to build a hospital there. I expect he will make a very good
                  living because there must now be some hundreds of Europeans within a hundred miles
                  radius of Mbeya. The Europeans are mostly British or German but there are also
                  Greeks and, I believe, several other nationalities are represented on the Lupa Diggings.
                  Ann is blooming and developing according to the Book except that she has no
                  teeth yet! Kath Hickson-Wood has given her a very nice high chair and now she has
                  breakfast and lunch at the table with us. Everything within reach goes on the floor to her
                  amusement and my exasperation!

                  You ask whether we have any Church of England missionaries in our part. No we
                  haven’t though there are Lutheran and Roman Catholic Missions. I have never even
                  heard of a visiting Church of England Clergyman to these parts though there are babies
                  in plenty who have not been baptised. Jolly good thing I had Ann Christened down
                  there.

                  The R.C. priests in this area are called White Fathers. They all have beards and
                  wear white cassocks and sun helmets. One, called Father Keiling, calls around frequently.
                  Though none of us in this area is Catholic we take it in turn to put him up for the night. The
                  Catholic Fathers in their turn are most hospitable to travellers regardless of their beliefs.
                  Rather a sad thing has happened. Lucas our old chicken-boy is dead. I shall miss
                  his toothy smile. George went to the funeral and fired two farewell shots from his rifle
                  over the grave – a gesture much appreciated by the locals. Lucas in his day was a good
                  hunter.

                  Several of the locals own muzzle loading guns but the majority hunt with dogs
                  and spears. The dogs wear bells which make an attractive jingle but I cannot bear the
                  idea of small antelope being run down until they are exhausted before being clubbed of
                  stabbed to death. We seldom eat venison as George does not care to shoot buck.
                  Recently though, he shot an eland and Abel rendered down the fat which is excellent for
                  cooking and very like beef fat.

                  Much love to all,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. P.O.Mbeya 21st November 1932

                  Dearest Family,

                  George has gone off to the Lupa for a week with John Molteno. John came up
                  here with the idea of buying a coffee farm but he has changed his mind and now thinks of
                  staking some claims on the diggings and also setting up as a gold buyer.

                  Did I tell you about his arrival here? John and George did some elephant hunting
                  together in French Equatorial Africa and when John heard that George had married and
                  settled in Tanganyika, he also decided to come up here. He drove up from Cape Town
                  in a Baby Austin and arrived just as our labourers were going home for the day. The little
                  car stopped half way up our hill and John got out to investigate. You should have heard
                  the astonished exclamations when John got out – all 6 ft 5 ins. of him! He towered over
                  the little car and even to me it seemed impossible for him to have made the long
                  journey in so tiny a car.

                  Kath Wood has been over several times lately. She is slim and looks so right in
                  the shirt and corduroy slacks she almost always wears. She was here yesterday when
                  the shamba boy, digging in the front garden, unearthed a large earthenware cooking pot,
                  sealed at the top. I was greatly excited and had an instant mental image of fabulous
                  wealth. We made the boy bring the pot carefully on to the verandah and opened it in
                  happy anticipation. What do you think was inside? Nothing but a grinning skull! Such a
                  treat for a pregnant female.

                  We have a tree growing here that had lovely straight branches covered by a
                  smooth bark. I got the garden boy to cut several of these branches of a uniform size,
                  peeled off the bark and have made Ann a playpen with the poles which are much like
                  broom sticks. Now I can leave her unattended when I do my chores. The other morning
                  after breakfast I put Ann in her playpen on the verandah and gave her a piece of toast
                  and honey to keep her quiet whilst I laundered a few of her things. When I looked out a
                  little later I was horrified to see a number of bees buzzing around her head whilst she
                  placidly concentrated on her toast. I made a rapid foray and rescued her but I still don’t
                  know whether that was the thing to do.

                  We all send our love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mbeya Hospital. April 25th. 1933

                  Dearest Family,

                  Here I am, installed at the very new hospital, built by Dr Eckhardt, awaiting the
                  arrival of the new baby. George has gone back to the farm on foot but will walk in again
                  to spend the weekend with us. Ann is with me and enjoys the novelty of playing with
                  other children. The Eckhardts have two, a pretty little girl of two and a half and a very fair
                  roly poly boy of Ann’s age. Ann at fourteen months is very active. She is quite a little girl
                  now with lovely dimples. She walks well but is backward in teething.

                  George, Ann and I had a couple of days together at the hotel before I moved in
                  here and several of the local women visited me and have promised to visit me in
                  hospital. The trip from farm to town was very entertaining if not very comfortable. There
                  is ten miles of very rough road between our farm and Utengule Mission and beyond the
                  Mission there is a fair thirteen or fourteen mile road to Mbeya.

                  As we have no car now the doctor’s wife offered to drive us from the Mission to
                  Mbeya but she would not risk her car on the road between the Mission and our farm.
                  The upshot was that I rode in the Hickson-Woods machila for that ten mile stretch. The
                  machila is a canopied hammock, slung from a bamboo pole, in which I reclined, not too
                  comfortably in my unwieldy state, with Ann beside me or sometime straddling me. Four
                  of our farm boys carried the machila on their shoulders, two fore and two aft. The relief
                  bearers walked on either side. There must have been a dozen in all and they sang a sort
                  of sea shanty song as they walked. One man would sing a verse and the others took up
                  the chorus. They often improvise as they go. They moaned about my weight (at least
                  George said so! I don’t follow Ki-Swahili well yet) and expressed the hope that I would
                  have a son and that George would reward them handsomely.

                  George and Kelly, the dog, followed close behind the machila and behind
                  George came Abel our cook and his wife and small daughter Annalie, all in their best
                  attire. The cook wore a palm beach suit, large Terai hat and sunglasses and two colour
                  shoes and quite lent a tone to the proceedings! Right at the back came the rag tag and
                  bobtail who joined the procession just for fun.

                  Mrs Eckhardt was already awaiting us at the Mission when we arrived and we had
                  an uneventful trip to the Mbeya Hotel.

                  During my last week at the farm I felt very tired and engaged the cook’s small
                  daughter, Annalie, to amuse Ann for an hour after lunch so that I could have a rest. They
                  played in the small verandah room which adjoins our bedroom and where I keep all my
                  sewing materials. One afternoon I was startled by a scream from Ann. I rushed to the
                  room and found Ann with blood steaming from her cheek. Annalie knelt beside her,
                  looking startled and frightened, with my embroidery scissors in her hand. She had cut off
                  half of the long curling golden lashes on one of Ann’s eyelids and, in trying to finish the
                  job, had cut off a triangular flap of skin off Ann’s cheek bone.

                  I called Abel, the cook, and demanded that he should chastise his daughter there and
                  then and I soon heard loud shrieks from behind the kitchen. He spanked her with a
                  bamboo switch but I am sure not as well as she deserved. Africans are very tolerant
                  towards their children though I have seen husbands and wives fighting furiously.
                  I feel very well but long to have the confinement over.

                  Very much love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mbeya Hospital. 2nd May 1933.

                  Dearest Family,

                  Little George arrived at 7.30 pm on Saturday evening 29 th. April. George was
                  with me at the time as he had walked in from the farm for news, and what a wonderful bit
                  of luck that was. The doctor was away on a case on the Diggings and I was bathing Ann
                  with George looking on, when the pains started. George dried Ann and gave her
                  supper and put her to bed. Afterwards he sat on the steps outside my room and a
                  great comfort it was to know that he was there.

                  The confinement was short but pretty hectic. The Doctor returned to the Hospital
                  just in time to deliver the baby. He is a grand little boy, beautifully proportioned. The
                  doctor says he has never seen a better formed baby. He is however rather funny
                  looking just now as his head is, very temporarily, egg shaped. He has a shock of black
                  silky hair like a gollywog and believe it or not, he has a slight black moustache.
                  George came in, looked at the baby, looked at me, and we both burst out
                  laughing. The doctor was shocked and said so. He has no sense of humour and couldn’t
                  understand that we, though bursting with pride in our son, could never the less laugh at
                  him.

                  Friends in Mbeya have sent me the most gorgeous flowers and my room is
                  transformed with delphiniums, roses and carnations. The room would be very austere
                  without the flowers. Curtains, bedspread and enamelware, walls and ceiling are all
                  snowy white.

                  George hired a car and took Ann home next day. I have little George for
                  company during the day but he is removed at night. I am longing to get him home and
                  away from the German nurse who feeds him on black tea when he cries. She insists that
                  tea is a medicine and good for him.

                  Much love from a proud mother of two.
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate 12May 1933

                  Dearest Family,

                  We are all together at home again and how lovely it feels. Even the house
                  servants seem pleased. The boy had decorated the lounge with sprays of
                  bougainvillaea and Abel had backed one of his good sponge cakes.

                  Ann looked fat and rosy but at first was only moderately interested in me and the
                  new baby but she soon thawed. George is good with her and will continue to dress Ann
                  in the mornings and put her to bed until I am satisfied with Georgie.

                  He, poor mite, has a nasty rash on face and neck. I am sure it is just due to that
                  tea the nurse used to give him at night. He has lost his moustache and is fast loosing his
                  wild black hair and emerging as quite a handsome babe. He is a very masculine looking
                  infant with much more strongly marked eyebrows and a larger nose that Ann had. He is
                  very good and lies quietly in his basket even when awake.

                  George has been making a hatching box for brown trout ova and has set it up in
                  a small clear stream fed by a spring in readiness for the ova which is expected from
                  South Africa by next weeks plane. Some keen fishermen from Mbeya and the District
                  have clubbed together to buy the ova. The fingerlings are later to be transferred to
                  streams in Mbeya and Tukuyu Districts.

                  I shall now have my hands full with the two babies and will not have much time for the
                  garden, or I fear, for writing very long letters. Remember though, that no matter how
                  large my family becomes, I shall always love you as much as ever.

                  Your affectionate,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 14th June 1933

                  Dearest Family,

                  The four of us are all well but alas we have lost our dear Kelly. He was rather a
                  silly dog really, although he grew so big he retained all his puppy ways but we were all
                  very fond of him, especially George because Kelly attached himself to George whilst I
                  was away having Ann and from that time on he was George’s shadow. I think he had
                  some form of biliary fever. He died stretched out on the living room couch late last night,
                  with George sitting beside him so that he would not feel alone.

                  The children are growing fast. Georgie is a darling. He now has a fluff of pale
                  brown hair and his eyes are large and dark brown. Ann is very plump and fair.
                  We have had several visitors lately. Apart from neighbours, a car load of diggers
                  arrived one night and John Molteno and his bride were here. She is a very attractive girl
                  but, I should say, more suited to life in civilisation than in this back of beyond. She has
                  gone out to the diggings with her husband and will have to walk a good stretch of the fifty
                  or so miles.

                  The diggers had to sleep in the living room on the couch and on hastily erected
                  camp beds. They arrived late at night and left after breakfast next day. One had half a
                  beard, the other side of his face had been forcibly shaved in the bar the night before.

                  your affectionate,
                  Eleanor

                  Mchewe Estate. August 10 th. 1933

                  Dearest Family,

                  George is away on safari with two Indian Army officers. The money he will get for
                  his services will be very welcome because this coffee growing is a slow business, and
                  our capitol is rapidly melting away. The job of acting as White Hunter was unexpected
                  or George would not have taken on the job of hatching the ova which duly arrived from
                  South Africa.

                  George and the District Commissioner, David Pollock, went to meet the plane
                  by which the ova had been consigned but the pilot knew nothing about the package. It
                  came to light in the mail bag with the parcels! However the ova came to no harm. David
                  Pollock and George brought the parcel to the farm and carefully transferred the ova to
                  the hatching box. It was interesting to watch the tiny fry hatch out – a process which took
                  several days. Many died in the process and George removed the dead by sucking
                  them up in a glass tube.

                  When hatched, the tiny fry were fed on ant eggs collected by the boys. I had to
                  take over the job of feeding and removing the dead when George left on safari. The fry
                  have to be fed every four hours, like the baby, so each time I have fed Georgie. I hurry
                  down to feed the trout.

                  The children are very good but keep me busy. Ann can now say several words
                  and understands more. She adores Georgie. I long to show them off to you.

                  Very much love
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. October 27th 1933

                  Dear Family,

                  All just over flu. George and Ann were very poorly. I did not fare so badly and
                  Georgie came off best. He is on a bottle now.

                  There was some excitement here last Wednesday morning. At 6.30 am. I called
                  for boiling water to make Georgie’s food. No water arrived but muffled shouting and the
                  sound of blows came from the kitchen. I went to investigate and found a fierce fight in
                  progress between the house boy and the kitchen boy. In my efforts to make them stop
                  fighting I went too close and got a sharp bang on the mouth with the edge of an
                  enamelled plate the kitchen boy was using as a weapon. My teeth cut my lip inside and
                  the plate cut it outside and blood flowed from mouth to chin. The boys were petrified.
                  By the time I had fed Georgie the lip was stiff and swollen. George went in wrath
                  to the kitchen and by breakfast time both house boy and kitchen boy had swollen faces
                  too. Since then I have a kettle of boiling water to hand almost before the words are out
                  of my mouth. I must say that the fight was because the house boy had clouted the
                  kitchen boy for keeping me waiting! In this land of piece work it is the job of the kitchen
                  boy to light the fire and boil the kettle but the houseboy’s job to carry the kettle to me.
                  I have seen little of Kath Wood or Marion Coster for the past two months. Major
                  Jones is the neighbour who calls most regularly. He has a wireless set and calls on all of
                  us to keep us up to date with world as well as local news. He often brings oranges for
                  Ann who adores him. He is a very nice person but no oil painting and makes no effort to
                  entertain Ann but she thinks he is fine. Perhaps his monocle appeals to her.

                  George has bought a six foot long galvanised bath which is a great improvement
                  on the smaller oval one we have used until now. The smaller one had grown battered
                  from much use and leaks like a sieve. Fortunately our bathroom has a cement floor,
                  because one had to fill the bath to the brim and then bath extremely quickly to avoid
                  being left high and dry.

                  Lots and lots of love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. P.O. Mbeya 1st December 1933

                  Dearest Family,

                  Ann has not been well. We think she has had malaria. She has grown a good
                  deal lately and looks much thinner and rather pale. Georgie is thriving and has such
                  sparkling brown eyes and a ready smile. He and Ann make a charming pair, one so fair
                  and the other dark.

                  The Moltenos’ spent a few days here and took Georgie and me to Mbeya so
                  that Georgie could be vaccinated. However it was an unsatisfactory trip because the
                  doctor had no vaccine.

                  George went to the Lupa with the Moltenos and returned to the farm in their Baby
                  Austin which they have lent to us for a week. This was to enable me to go to Mbeya to
                  have a couple of teeth filled by a visiting dentist.

                  We went to Mbeya in the car on Saturday. It was quite a squash with the four of
                  us on the front seat of the tiny car. Once George grabbed the babies foot instead of the
                  gear knob! We had Georgie vaccinated at the hospital and then went to the hotel where
                  the dentist was installed. Mr Dare, the dentist, had few instruments and they were very
                  tarnished. I sat uncomfortably on a kitchen chair whilst he tinkered with my teeth. He filled
                  three but two of the fillings came out that night. This meant another trip to Mbeya in the
                  Baby Austin but this time they seem all right.

                  The weather is very hot and dry and the garden a mess. We are having trouble
                  with the young coffee trees too. Cut worms are killing off seedlings in the nursery and
                  there is a borer beetle in the planted out coffee.

                  George bought a large grey donkey from some wandering Masai and we hope
                  the children will enjoy riding it later on.

                  Very much love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 14th February 1934.

                  Dearest Family,

                  You will be sorry to hear that little Ann has been very ill, indeed we were terribly
                  afraid that we were going to lose her. She enjoyed her birthday on the 8th. All the toys
                  you, and her English granny, sent were unwrapped with such delight. However next
                  day she seemed listless and a bit feverish so I tucked her up in bed after lunch. I dosed
                  her with quinine and aspirin and she slept fitfully. At about eleven o’clock I was
                  awakened by a strange little cry. I turned up the night light and was horrified to see that
                  Ann was in a convulsion. I awakened George who, as always in an emergency, was
                  perfectly calm and practical. He filled the small bath with very warm water and emersed
                  Ann in it, placing a cold wet cloth on her head. We then wrapped her in blankets and
                  gave her an enema and she settled down to sleep. A few hours later we had the same
                  thing over again.

                  At first light we sent a runner to Mbeya to fetch the doctor but waited all day in
                  vain and in the evening the runner returned to say that the doctor had gone to a case on
                  the diggings. Ann had been feverish all day with two or three convulsions. Neither
                  George or I wished to leave the bedroom, but there was Georgie to consider, and in
                  the afternoon I took him out in the garden for a while whilst George sat with Ann.
                  That night we both sat up all night and again Ann had those wretched attacks of
                  convulsions. George and I were worn out with anxiety by the time the doctor arrived the
                  next afternoon. Ann had not been able to keep down any quinine and had had only
                  small sips of water since the onset of the attack.

                  The doctor at once diagnosed the trouble as malaria aggravated by teething.
                  George held Ann whilst the Doctor gave her an injection. At the first attempt the needle
                  bent into a bow, George was furious! The second attempt worked and after a few hours
                  Ann’s temperature dropped and though she was ill for two days afterwards she is now
                  up and about. She has also cut the last of her baby teeth, thank God. She looks thin and
                  white, but should soon pick up. It has all been a great strain to both of us. Georgie
                  behaved like an angel throughout. He played happily in his cot and did not seem to
                  sense any tension as people say, babies do. Our baby was cheerful and not at all
                  subdued.

                  This is the rainy season and it is a good thing that some work has been done on
                  our road or the doctor might not have got through.

                  Much love to all,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 1st October 1934

                  Dearest Family,

                  We are all well now, thank goodness, but last week Georgie gave us such a
                  fright. I was sitting on the verandah, busy with some sewing and not watching Ann and
                  Georgie, who were trying to reach a bunch of bananas which hung on a rope from a
                  beam of the verandah. Suddenly I heard a crash, Georgie had fallen backward over the
                  edge of the verandah and hit the back of his head on the edge of the brick furrow which
                  carries away the rainwater. He lay flat on his back with his arms spread out and did not
                  move or cry. When I picked him up he gave a little whimper, I carried him to his cot and
                  bathed his face and soon he began sitting up and appeared quite normal. The trouble
                  began after he had vomited up his lunch. He began to whimper and bang his head
                  against the cot.

                  George and I were very worried because we have no transport so we could not
                  take Georgie to the doctor and we could not bear to go through again what we had gone
                  through with Ann earlier in the year. Then, in the late afternoon, a miracle happened. Two
                  men George hardly knew, and complete strangers to me, called in on their way from the
                  diggings to Mbeya and they kindly drove Georgie and me to the hospital. The Doctor
                  allowed me to stay with Georgie and we spent five days there. Luckily he responded to
                  treatment and is now as alive as ever. Children do put years on one!

                  There is nothing much else to report. We have a new vegetable garden which is
                  doing well but the earth here is strange. Gardens seem to do well for two years but by
                  that time the soil is exhausted and one must move the garden somewhere else. The
                  coffee looks well but it will be another year before we can expect even a few bags of
                  coffee and prices are still low. Anyway by next year George should have some good
                  return for all his hard work.

                  Lots of love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. November 4th 1934

                  Dearest Family,

                  George is home from his White Hunting safari looking very sunburnt and well.
                  The elderly American, who was his client this time, called in here at the farm to meet me
                  and the children. It is amazing what spirit these old lads have! This one looked as though
                  he should be thinking in terms of slippers and an armchair but no, he thinks in terms of
                  high powered rifles with telescopic sights.

                  It is lovely being together again and the children are delighted to have their Dad
                  home. Things are always exciting when George is around. The day after his return
                  George said at breakfast, “We can’t go on like this. You and the kids never get off the
                  shamba. We’ll simply have to get a car.” You should have heard the excitement. “Get a
                  car Daddy?’” cried Ann jumping in her chair so that her plaits bounced. “Get a car
                  Daddy?” echoed Georgie his brown eyes sparkling. “A car,” said I startled, “However
                  can we afford one?”

                  “Well,” said George, “on my way back from Safari I heard that a car is to be sold
                  this week at the Tukuyu Court, diseased estate or bankruptcy or something, I might get it
                  cheap and it is an A.C.” The name meant nothing to me, but George explained that an
                  A.C. is first cousin to a Rolls Royce.

                  So off he went to the sale and next day the children and I listened all afternoon for
                  the sound of an approaching car. We had many false alarms but, towards evening we
                  heard what appeared to be the roar of an aeroplane engine. It was the A.C. roaring her
                  way up our steep hill with a long plume of steam waving gaily above her radiator.
                  Out jumped my beaming husband and in no time at all, he was showing off her
                  points to an admiring family. Her lines are faultless and seats though worn are most
                  comfortable. She has a most elegant air so what does it matter that the radiator leaks like
                  a sieve, her exhaust pipe has broken off, her tyres are worn almost to the canvas and
                  she has no windscreen. She goes, and she cost only five pounds.

                  Next afternoon George, the kids and I piled into the car and drove along the road
                  on lookout for guinea fowl. All went well on the outward journey but on the homeward
                  one the poor A.C. simply gasped and died. So I carried the shot gun and George
                  carried both children and we trailed sadly home. This morning George went with a bunch
                  of farmhands and brought her home. Truly temperamental, she came home literally
                  under her own steam.

                  George now plans to get a second hand engine and radiator for her but it won’t
                  be an A.C. engine. I think she is the only one of her kind in the country.
                  I am delighted to hear, dad, that you are sending a bridle for Joseph for
                  Christmas. I am busy making a saddle out of an old piece of tent canvas stuffed with
                  kapok, some webbing and some old rug straps. A car and a riding donkey! We’re
                  definitely carriage folk now.

                  Lots of love to all,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 28th December 1934

                  Dearest Family,

                  Thank you for the wonderful Christmas parcel. My frock is a splendid fit. George
                  declares that no one can knit socks like Mummy and the children love their toys and new
                  clothes.

                  Joseph, the donkey, took his bit with an air of bored resignation and Ann now
                  rides proudly on his back. Joseph is a big strong animal with the looks and disposition of
                  a mule. he will not go at all unless a native ‘toto’ walks before him and when he does go
                  he wears a pained expression as though he were carrying fourteen stone instead of
                  Ann’s fly weight. I walk beside the donkey carrying Georgie and our cat, ‘Skinny Winnie’,
                  follows behind. Quite a cavalcade. The other day I got so exasperated with Joseph that
                  I took Ann off and I got on. Joseph tottered a few paces and sat down! to the huge
                  delight of our farm labourers who were going home from work. Anyway, one good thing,
                  the donkey is so lazy that there is little chance of him bolting with Ann.

                  The Moltenos spent Christmas with us and left for the Lupa Diggings yesterday.
                  They arrived on the 22nd. with gifts for the children and chocolates and beer. That very
                  afternoon George and John Molteno left for Ivuna, near Lake Ruckwa, to shoot some
                  guinea fowl and perhaps a goose for our Christmas dinner. We expected the menfolk
                  back on Christmas Eve and Anne and I spent a busy day making mince pies and
                  sausage rolls. Why I don’t know, because I am sure Abel could have made them better.
                  We decorated the Christmas tree and sat up very late but no husbands turned up.
                  Christmas day passed but still no husbands came. Anne, like me, is expecting a baby
                  and we both felt pretty forlorn and cross. Anne was certain that they had been caught up
                  in a party somewhere and had forgotten all about us and I must say when Boxing Day
                  went by and still George and John did not show up I felt ready to agree with her.
                  They turned up towards evening and explained that on the homeward trip the car
                  had bogged down in the mud and that they had spent a miserable Christmas. Anne
                  refused to believe their story so George, to prove their case, got the game bag and
                  tipped the contents on to the dining room table. Out fell several guinea fowl, long past
                  being edible, followed by a large goose so high that it was green and blue where all the
                  feathers had rotted off.

                  The stench was too much for two pregnant girls. I shot out of the front door
                  closely followed by Anne and we were both sick in the garden.

                  I could not face food that evening but Anne is made of stronger stuff and ate her
                  belated Christmas dinner with relish.

                  I am looking forward enormously to having Marjorie here with us. She will be able
                  to carry back to you an eyewitness account of our home and way of life.

                  Much love to you all,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 5th January 1935

                  Dearest Family,

                  You cannot imagine how lovely it is to have Marjorie here. She came just in time
                  because I have had pernicious vomiting and have lost a great deal of weight and she
                  took charge of the children and made me spend three days in hospital having treatment.
                  George took me to the hospital on the afternoon of New Years Eve and decided
                  to spend the night at the hotel and join in the New Years Eve celebrations. I had several
                  visitors at the hospital that evening and George actually managed to get some imported
                  grapes for me. He returned to the farm next morning and fetched me from the hospital
                  four days later. Of course the old A.C. just had to play up. About half way home the
                  back axle gave in and we had to send a passing native some miles back to a place
                  called Mbalizi to hire a lorry from a Greek trader to tow us home to the farm.
                  The children looked well and were full of beans. I think Marjorie was thankful to
                  hand them over to me. She is delighted with Ann’s motherly little ways but Georgie she
                  calls “a really wild child”. He isn’t, just has such an astonishing amount of energy and is
                  always up to mischief. Marjorie brought us all lovely presents. I am so thrilled with my
                  sewing machine. It may be an old model but it sews marvellously. We now have an
                  Alsatian pup as well as Joseph the donkey and the two cats.

                  Marjorie had a midnight encounter with Joseph which gave her quite a shock but
                  we had a good laugh about it next day. Some months ago George replaced our wattle
                  and daub outside pit lavatory by a substantial brick one, so large that Joseph is being
                  temporarily stabled in it at night. We neglected to warn Marj about this and one night,
                  storm lamp in hand, she opened the door and Joseph walked out braying his thanks.
                  I am afraid Marjorie is having a quiet time, a shame when the journey from Cape
                  Town is so expensive. The doctor has told me to rest as much as I can, so it is
                  impossible for us to take Marj on sight seeing trips.

                  I hate to think that she will be leaving in ten days time.

                  Much love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 18th February 1935

                  Dearest Family,

                  You must be able to visualise our life here quite well now that Marj is back and
                  has no doubt filled in all the details I forget to mention in my letters. What a journey we
                  had in the A.C. when we took her to the plane. George, the children and I sat in front and
                  Marj sat behind with numerous four gallon tins of water for the insatiable radiator. It was
                  raining and the canvas hood was up but part of the side flaps are missing and as there is
                  no glass in the windscreen the rain blew in on us. George got fed up with constantly
                  removing the hot radiator cap so simply stuffed a bit of rag in instead. When enough
                  steam had built up in the radiator behind the rag it blew out and we started all over again.
                  The car still roars like an aeroplane engine and yet has little power so that George sent
                  gangs of boys to the steep hills between the farm and the Mission to give us a push if
                  necessary. Fortunately this time it was not, and the boys cheered us on our way. We
                  needed their help on the homeward journey however.

                  George has now bought an old Chev engine which he means to install before I
                  have to go to hospital to have my new baby. It will be quite an engineering feet as
                  George has few tools.

                  I am sorry to say that I am still not well, something to do with kidneys or bladder.
                  George bought me some pills from one of the several small shops which have opened
                  in Mbeya and Ann is most interested in the result. She said seriously to Kath Wood,
                  “Oh my Mummy is a very clever Mummy. She can do blue wee and green wee as well
                  as yellow wee.” I simply can no longer manage the children without help and have
                  engaged the cook’s wife, Janey, to help. The children are by no means thrilled. I plead in
                  vain that I am not well enough to go for walks. Ann says firmly, “Ann doesn’t want to go
                  for a walk. Ann will look after you.” Funny, though she speaks well for a three year old,
                  she never uses the first person. Georgie say he would much rather walk with
                  Keshokutwa, the kitchen boy. His name by the way, means day-after-tomorrow and it
                  suits him down to the ground, Kath Wood walks over sometimes with offers of help and Ann will gladly go walking with her but Georgie won’t. He on the other hand will walk with Anne Molteno
                  and Ann won’t. They are obstinate kids. Ann has developed a very fertile imagination.
                  She has probably been looking at too many of those nice women’s magazines you
                  sent. A few days ago she said, “You are sick Mummy, but Ann’s got another Mummy.
                  She’s not sick, and my other mummy (very smugly) has lovely golden hair”. This
                  morning’ not ten minutes after I had dressed her, she came in with her frock wet and
                  muddy. I said in exasperation, “Oh Ann, you are naughty.” To which she instantly
                  returned, “My other Mummy doesn’t think I am naughty. She thinks I am very nice.” It
                  strikes me I shall have to get better soon so that I can be gay once more and compete
                  with that phantom golden haired paragon.

                  We had a very heavy storm over the farm last week. There was heavy rain with
                  hail which stripped some of the coffee trees and the Mchewe River flooded and the
                  water swept through the lower part of the shamba. After the water had receded George
                  picked up a fine young trout which had been stranded. This was one of some he had
                  put into the river when Georgie was a few months old.

                  The trials of a coffee farmer are legion. We now have a plague of snails. They
                  ring bark the young trees and leave trails of slime on the glossy leaves. All the ring
                  barked trees will have to be cut right back and this is heartbreaking as they are bearing
                  berries for the first time. The snails are collected by native children, piled upon the
                  ground and bashed to a pulp which gives off a sickening stench. I am sorry for the local
                  Africans. Locusts ate up their maize and now they are losing their bean crop to the snails.

                  Lots of love, Eleanor

                  #6248
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Bakewell Not Eyam

                    The Elton Marshalls

                    Some years ago I read a book about Eyam, the Derbyshire village devastated by the plague in 1665, and about how the villagers quarantined themselves to prevent further spread. It was quite a story. Each year on ‘Plague Sunday’, at the end of August, residents of Eyam mark the bubonic plague epidemic that devastated their small rural community in the years 1665–6. They wear the traditional costume of the day and attend a memorial service to remember how half the village sacrificed themselves to avoid spreading the disease further.

                    My 4X great grandfather James Marshall married Ann Newton in 1792 in Elton. On a number of other people’s trees on an online ancestry site, Ann Newton was from Eyam.  Wouldn’t that have been interesting, to find ancestors from Eyam, perhaps going back to the days of the plague. Perhaps that is what the people who put Ann Newton’s birthplace as Eyam thought, without a proper look at the records.

                    But I didn’t think Ann Newton was from Eyam. I found she was from Over Haddon, near Bakewell ~ much closer to Elton than Eyam. On the marriage register, it says that James was from Elton parish, and she was from Darley parish. Her birth in 1770 says Bakewell, which was the registration district for the villages of Over Haddon and Darley. Her parents were George Newton and Dorothy Wipperley of Over Haddon,which is incidentally very near to Nether Haddon, and Haddon Hall. I visited Haddon Hall many years ago, as well as Chatsworth (and much preferred Haddon Hall).

                    I looked in the Eyam registers for Ann Newton, and found a couple of them around the time frame, but the men they married were not James Marshall.

                    Ann died in 1806 in Elton (a small village just outside Matlock) at the age of 36 within days of her newborn twins, Ann and James.  James and Ann had two sets of twins.  John and Mary were twins as well, but Mary died in 1799 at the age of three.

                    1796 baptism of twins John and Mary of James and Ann Marshall

                    Marshall baptism

                     

                    Ann’s husband James died 42 years later at the age of eighty,  in Elton in 1848. It was noted in the parish register that he was for years parish clerk.

                    James Marshall

                     

                    On the 1851 census John Marshall born in 1796, the son of James Marshall the parish clerk, was a lead miner occupying six acres in Elton, Derbyshire.

                    His son, also John, was registered on the census as a lead miner at just eight years old.

                     

                    The mining of lead was the most important industry in the Peak district of Derbyshire from Roman times until the 19th century – with only agriculture being more important for the livelihood of local people. The height of lead mining in Derbyshire came in the 17th and 18th centuries, and the evidence is still visible today – most obviously in the form of lines of hillocks from the more than 25,000 mineshafts which once existed.

                    Peak District Mines Historical Society

                    Smelting, or extracting the lead from the ore by melting it, was carried out in a small open hearth. Lead was cast in layers as each batch of ore was smelted; the blocks of lead thus produced were referred to as “pigs”. Examples of early smelting-hearths found within the county were stone lined, with one side open facing the prevailing wind to create the draught needed. The hilltops of the Matlocks would have provided very suitable conditions.

                    The miner used a tool called a mattock or a pick, and hammers and iron wedges in harder veins, to loosen the ore. They threw the ore onto ridges on each side of the vein, going deeper where the ore proved richer.

                    Many mines were very shallow and, once opened, proved too poor to develop. Benjamin Bryan cited the example of “Ember Hill, on the shoulder of Masson, above Matlock Bath” where there are hollows in the surface showing where there had been fruitless searches for lead.

                    There were small buildings, called “coes”, near each mine shaft which were used for tool storage, to provide shelter and as places for changing into working clothes. It was here that the lead was smelted and stored until ready for sale.

                    Lead is, of course, very poisonous. As miners washed lead-bearing material, great care was taken with the washing vats, which had to be covered. If cattle accidentally drank the poisoned water they would die from something called “belland”.

                    Cornish and Welsh miners introduced the practice of buddling for ore into Derbyshire about 1747.  Buddling involved washing the heaps of rubbish in the slag heaps,  the process of separating the very small particles from the dirt and spar with which they are mixed, by means of a small stream of water. This method of extraction was a major pollutant, affecting farmers and their animals (poisoned by Belland from drinking the waste water), the brooks and streams and even the River Derwent.

                    Women also worked in the mines. An unattributed account from 1829, says: “The head is much enwrapped, and the features nearly hidden in a muffling of handkerchiefs, over which is put a man’s hat, in the manner of the paysannes of Wales”. He also describes their gowns, usually red, as being “tucked up round the waist in a sort of bag, and set off by a bright green petticoat”. They also wore a man’s grey or dark blue coat and shoes with 3″ thick soles that were tied round with cords. The 1829 writer called them “complete harridans!”

                    Lead Mining in Matlock & Matlock Bath, The Andrews Pages

                    John’s wife Margaret died at the age of 42 in 1847.  I don’t know the cause of death, but perhaps it was lead poisoning.  John’s son John, despite a very early start in the lead mine, became a carter and lived to the ripe old age of 88.

                    The Pig of Lead pub, 1904:

                    The Pig of Lead 1904

                     

                    The earliest Marshall I’ve found so far is Charles, born in 1742. Charles married Rebecca Knowles, 1775-1823.  I don’t know what his occupation was but when he died in 1819 he left a not inconsiderable sum to his wife.

                    1819 Charles Marshall probate:

                    Charles Marshall Probate

                     

                     

                    There are still Marshall’s living in Elton and Matlock, not our immediate known family, but probably distantly related.  I asked a Matlock group on facebook:

                    “…there are Marshall’s still in the village. There are certainly families who live here who have done generation after generation & have many memories & stories to tell. Visit The Duke on a Friday night…”

                    The Duke, Elton:

                    Duke Elton

                    #6246
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Florence Nightingale Gretton

                      1881-1927

                      Florence’s father was Richard Gretton, a baker in Swadlincote, Derbyshire. When Richard married Sarah Orgill in 1861, they lived with her mother, a widow, in Measham, Ashby de la Zouch in Leicestershire. On the 1861 census Sarah’s mother, Elizabeth, is a farmer of two acres.

                      (Swadlincote and Ashby de la Zouch are on the Derbyshire Leicestershire border and not far from each other. Swadlincote is near to Burton upon Trent which is sometimes in Staffordshire, sometimes in Derbyshire. Newhall, Church Gresley, and Swadlincote are all very close to each other or districts in the same town.)

                      Ten years later in 1871 Richard and Sarah have their own place in Swadlincote, he is a baker, and they have four children. A fourteen year old apprentice or servant is living with them.

                      In the Ashby-de-la-Zouch Gazette on 28 February 1880, it was reported that Richard Gretton, baker, of Swadlincote, was charged by Captain Bandys with carrying bread in a cart for sale, the said cart not being provided with scales and weights, according to the requirements of the Act, on the 17th January last.—Defendant pleaded guilty, but urged in extenuation of the offence that in the hurry he had forgotten to put the scales in the cart before his son started.—The Bench took this view of the case, regarding it as an oversight, and fined him one shilling only and costs.  This was not his only offence.

                      In 1883, he was fined twenty shillings, and ten shillings and sixpence costs.

                      Richard Gretton

                      By 1881 they have 4 more children, and Florence Nightingale is the youngest at four months. Richard is 48 by now, and Sarah is 44. Florence’s older brother William is a blacksmith.

                      Interestingly on the same census page, two doors down Thomas and Selina Warren live at the Stanhope Arms.  Richards son John Gretton lives at the pub, a 13 year old servant. Incidentally, I noticed on Thomas and Selena’s marriage register that Richard and Sarah Gretton were the witnesses at the wedding.

                      Ten years later in 1891, Florence Nightingale and her sister Clara are living with Selina Warren, widow, retired innkeeper, one door down from the Stanhope Arms. Florence is ten, Clara twelve and they are scholars.
                      Richard and Sarah are still living three doors up on the other side of the Stanhope Arms, with three of their sons. But the two girls lived up the road with the Warren widow!

                      The Stanhope Arms, Swadlincote: it’s possible that the shop with the awning was Richard Gretton’s bakers shop (although not at the time of this later photo).

                      Stanhope Arms

                       

                      Richard died in 1898, a year before Florence married Samuel Warren.

                      Sarah is a widowed 60 year old baker on the 1901 census. Her son 26 year old son Alf, also a baker,  lives at the same address, as does her 22 year old daughter Clara who is a district nurse.

                      Clara Gretton and family, photo found online:

                      Clara Gretton

                       

                      In 1901 Florence Nightingale (who we don’t have a photograph of!) is now married and is Florrie Warren on the census, and she, her husband Samuel, and their one year old daughter Hildred are visitors at the address of  Elizabeth (Staley)Warren, 60 year old widow and Samuel’s mother, and Samuel’s 36 year old brother William. Samuel and William are engineers.

                      Samuel and Florrie had ten children between 1900 and 1925 (and all but two of them used their middle name and not first name: my mother and I had no idea until I found all the records.  My grandmother Florence Noreen was known as Nora, which we knew of course, uncle Jack was actually Douglas John, and so on).

                      Hildred, Clara, Billy, and Nora were born in Swadlincote. Sometime between my grandmother’s birth in 1907 and Kay’s birth in 1911, the family moved to Oldswinford, in Stourbridge. Later they moved to Market Street.

                      1911 census, Oldswinford, Stourbridge:

                      Oldswinford 1911

                       

                      Oddly, nobody knew when Florrie Warren died. My mothers cousin Ian Warren researched the Warren family some years ago, while my grandmother was still alive. She contributed family stories and information, but couldn’t remember if her mother died in 1929 or 1927.  A recent search of records confirmed that it was the 12th November 1927.

                      She was 46 years old. We were curious to know how she died, so my mother ordered a paper copy of her death certificate. It said she died at 31 Market Street, Stourbridge at the age of 47. Clara May Warren, her daughter, was in attendance. Her husband Samuel Warren was a motor mechanic. The Post mortem was by Percival Evans, coroner for Worcestershire, who clarified the cause of death as vascular disease of the heart. There was no inquest. The death was registered on 15 Nov 1927.

                      I looked for a photo of 31 Market Street in Stourbridge, and was astonished to see that it was the house next door to one I lived in breifly in the 1980s.  We didn’t know that the Warren’s lived in Market Street until we started searching the records.

                      Market Street, Stourbridge. I lived in the one on the corner on the far right, my great grandmother died in the one next door.

                      Market Street

                       

                      I found some hitherto unknown emigrants in the family. Florence Nightingale Grettons eldest brother William 1861-1940 stayed in Swadlincote. John Orgill Gretton born in 1868 moved to Trenton New Jersey USA in 1888, married in 1892 and died in 1949 in USA. Michael Thomas born in 1870 married in New York in 1893 and died in Trenton in 1940. Alfred born 1875 stayed in Swadlincote. Charles Herbert born 1876 married locally and then moved to Australia in 1912, and died in Victoria in 1954. Clara Elizabeth was a district nurse, married locally and died at the age of 99.

                      #4234

                      After the Elders were gone back to the Capitol City of the Seven Hills, Rukshan was left pondering for awhile about his duties.
                      The visit had been pleasant enough, thanks to his deft organisation, and he had the skills to let just enough imponderables and improvising spots so that the whole thing didn’t look too artificially prepared.
                      The Sultan was pleased, and Rukshan was aware that some behind the curtains politics were are play, where he, somehow also was involved, although he couldn’t yet see how. It seemed his capacity for solving or clarifying complex matters was in high demand. One of the Elders of senior attainment had talked to him briefly, in a very amenable tone which was best suited when asking favours. “How odd” he’d thought, as the discussing dynamics would usually be the other way around.
                      Rukshan, I wanted to talk to you about your future” — was how he introduced the conversation. After a few minutes, the intent was clear that there were other places where they had planned to send him.

                      The next few days had him struggle to appease his own feelings. As usual in the cities, people where dealing in abstractions, and abstractions had the inconvenient side-effect of stirring the sea of the mind in all sorts of directions, none of which related to what was happening in the present moment.

                      His family was for that matter very dismissive of his way of life, living as he had for many years in the city. Fays used to live in the forests flanking the mountains, deep inside the sacred groves, where they were in accordance with old rites and the natural time, the breath of life in the trees. They argued that men cities were an insane world of abstractions, that made you forget were you came from, and what sustained you.
                      Ages ago, one of his ancestors, CJ Soliman had written after a visit of the first city (a mere hamlet at the time) “It is quite possible that the Forest is the real world, and that men live in a madhouse of abstractions. Life in the Forest has not yet withdrawn into the capsule of the head. It is still the whole body that lives. No wonder men feel dreamlike; the complete life of the Forest is something of which they merely dream. When you walk with naked feet, how can you ever forget the earth?”

                      He wouldn’t have disagreed actually. He’d found the pull of nature was strong, soft but steady and immovable. But as far as his life was going, he’d come to realise that cities were in need of a fine balancing act, otherwise, leaving them unchecked would probably hasten the pace at which they ate away acres of forests in their developments. Already, the sacred woods were threatened, and with them, his family and ancestors’ way of life.

                      After that discussion with the Elder, he’d found the need to clear up and make space for the new. He’d spent a whole day throwing away stuff, amazed at how much even himself would gather of unnecessary things. In the new space, he’d let the birds songs enter through the window, despite the biting cold and the grey fog.
                      A resolve was birthed in his mind and made clear at the time, as clear as the morning chirping in the thick air.
                      He would soon go back to the mountains, in the Dragon Heartwood, visit his family and look for the old Hermit for counsel.

                      #4206

                      Glynis likes to light candles before dark. She has a trail of candles leading from the kitchen to her small bedroom down the hallway. She made the candles herself by extracting the wax from the bayberries which grow with wild abandon on the bushes in front of the house. The candles burn cleanly and have a beautiful scent which helps her drift to sleep at night.

                      Glynis is in the portion of the house which was once the servants’ quarters. Part of the main house was destroyed in a fire many years ago and seemingly abandoned for good. There are acres of garden, once beautifully manicured, now overgrown and vibrant with life.

                      She is not sure how long she will stay here and lately has felt a restless pull to move on. Where? She is not sure. So for now, she practices her magic arts and knows she has much to learn.

                      Glynis is about to retire for the evening when something catches her attention. A flicker of light at the window. When she looks again there is nothing there. But something else is amiss; she can sense it.

                      “Oh, what is this? Eleven jars of potion? Darnit! I’m sure I made a clean dozen!”

                      #898

                      She was feeling blank. It was as if she had no memories of what had happened before. At least she had still the notion that she was a she… wasn’t she? It wasn’t really clear, as she had mixed up feelings. There weren’t any physical sensation in the place she was. Indeed, she was having difficulties finding herself. She began to wonder what was this feeling of her she was aware of. To what was it connected? And thus, she realized she was too focused on the question itself to get any answer.
                      The letting go released a dam of sensations and informations. She was overwhelmed by all that she was and all that seemed to be thrust upon her senses. But the resistance was what could create pain, she knew that from another time where she was living the same thing. Resisting the communication was like wanting to resist a herd of fleeing raghlors.
                      She was feeling a presence in all this mess, something familiar :-?
                      Was that herself looking at herself looking at herself looking at herself looking…
                      Her memory of what she was trying to do came as lightning. The sudden realization of her numerous tentatives at this exercise made her cry… would she fail again?
                      She had to find these other aspects of her, put them into a common direction… but there were so many of hers! which ones should she call to follow her? Which ones would follow her, if any? She felt sudden despair coming from everywhen. Despairs that she was aware did not belong to her, but they were powerful, almost annihilating her will. Images of massacres of people she knew, of people that her other selves knew, massacre that she had perpetrated herself or that she was perpetrating… any sensation of time could fit.

                      :yahoo_at_wits_end: :yahoo_doh: :yahoo_crying: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_whew: :yahoo_skull:

                      Despair was imprisoning her and she knew she already had failed because of that. It was shadowing her motivation, giving her that hollow sense of herself, shielding her from…

                      :creating_magic:

                      Asiir, is that you? The energy was familiar and the name was a translation in her mind. It was an anchor point in all these mess of hers.
                      Asiir, help me!

                      The feeling was faint, so far away. But as she was focusing more on it, she noticed her different selves were intrigued and gathering around it. And there they were together. A feeling of ecstasy filled her up… and out of her body herself was huge. The presence was gaining in intensity and it was as if it was her who was allowing Asiir’s energy to be expressed toward herself.

                      HAHAHAHAHA a thunderous laugh.
                      Startled for a moment she almost lost contact with Asiir. But their bond was stronger this time. She was filled with joy and self-assurance.

                      At last, you are beginning to understand, Lola. We can go on and take the next step now.

                      She was truly riding her dragon, :face-grin: , it was wondrous.

                      Well, technically you are lying on the floor of the marshes of doooom, but…

                      All of a sudden, everything was gone, she was back to her body, Asiir looking at her and nudging her left arm with her snout.
                      WOW, what a crippled body! How many times did she tried? Would he kill her with that, bloody bastard… a feeling of anger was infuriating her, and filling her body up, heating it up. How could he possibly be so inhuman?

                      May I recall you I’m a dead guy? and furthermore, my focus wasn’t human… I just appear human to your eyes because you want me to appear like that. You have no representation of how my species could look like, but I may show you…
                      … soon.

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