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  • #6486

    In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

    Zara took dozens of screenshots of the many etchings and drawings, as her game character paused to do the same.  She had lost sight of the two figures up ahead, and remembered she probably should have been following them.

    The tunnel came to a four way junction. There were drawings on the walls and floors of all of them, and a dim light coming from a distance in each. One was more brightly lit than the others, and Zara chose to explore that one first.  Presently a side room appeared, with green tiles on the floor similar to the one at the mine entrance. Daylight shone though a small window, and a diagram was drawn onto the wall.

    Zara toyed with the idea of simply climbing out through the window while there was still a chance to get out of the mine.  She knew she was lost and would not be able to find her way out the way she came. It was tempting, but she just took a screenshot.  Maybe when she looked at them later she’d be able to work out how to retrace her steps.

    Zara room of tiles window

    After recording the image of the room of tiles, Zara continued along the tunnel. The light shining from the little window in the tile room faded as she progressed, and she found herself once again in near darkness.  She came to a fork.  Both ways were equally gloomy, but a faint blue light enticed her to take the right hand tunnel.

    So many forks and side tunnels, I am surely completely lost now! And not one of these supposed maps is helping, I can’t decipher any of them. Another etching on the wall caught her eye, and Zara forgot about being lost.

    Zara stopped to look at what appeared to be a map on the tunnel wall, but it was unfathomable at this stage. She recorded it for future reference, and then looked around, unsure whether to continue on this path or retrace her stops back to the four way junction.  And then she saw him in an alcove.

    Osnas 2

    Osnas! This time Zara did say it out loud, and just as the frog faced stewardess was passing with her cart piled with used cups and cans and empty packets.  I swear she just winked at me!  Zara did a double take, but the cart and the woman had passed, collecting more rubbish.

    With a little smile, Zara noticed that the mask Osnas was wearing was one of those paper pandemic masks.  She had expected something a bit more Venice carnival when the prompt mentioned that he always wore a mask, not one of those.  She hoped the clue in this case wasn’t the mask, as she had avoided the plague successfully so far and didn’t want to be late to that particular party,  but the square green thing on his cart resembled the tile at the mine entrance.  What do I do now though? I still don’t know what any of these things mean.  Approach him and see if he speaks I suppose.

    “Ladies and gentlemen, we are now approaching Alice Springs, please fasten your seatbelts and switch off all your devices ready for landing.  We hope you have enjoyed your flight.”

    #6483

    In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Zara:  Create a surreal and dreamlike digital art piece that combines elements of traditional aboriginal native art with a map to a secret and special place, featuring the otherworldly dreamscape of Dream Time. The image should depict a series of mine tunnels, each leading to gorgeous discoveries and wonders, and the overall scene should be filled with the mysticism and magic of the Dream Time. Don’t be afraid to let your imagination run wild and include random elements that add to the surreal quality of the piece.

      #6481
      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        This is the outline for a short novel called “The Jorid’s Travels – 14 years on” that will unfold in this thread.
        The novel is about the travels of Georges and Salomé.
        The Jorid is the name of the vessel that can travel through dimensions as well as time, within certain boundaries. The Jorid has been built and is operated by Georges and his companion Salomé.

        Short backstory for the main cast and secondary characters

        Georges was a French thief possibly from the 1800s, turned other-dimensional explorer, and together with Salomé, a girl of mysterious origins who he first met in the Alienor dimension but believed to have origins in Northern India maybe Tibet from a distant past.
        They have lived rich adventures together, and are deeply bound together, by love and mutual interests.
        Georges, with his handsome face, dark hair and amber gaze, is a bit of a daredevil at times, curious and engaging with others. He is very interesting in anything that shines, strange mechanisms and generally the ways consciousness works in living matter.
        Salomé, on the other hand is deeply intuitive, empath at times, quite logical and rational but also interested in mysticism, the ways of the Truth, and the “why” rather than the “how” of things.
        The world of Alienor (a pale green sun under which twin planets originally orbited – Duane, Murtuane – with an additional third, Phreal, home planet of the Guardians, an alien race of builders with god-like powers) lived through cataclysmic changes, finished by the time this story is told.
        The Jorid’s original prototype designed were crafted by Léonard, a mysterious figure, self-taught in the arts of dimensional magic in Alienor sects, acted as a mentor to Georges during his adventures. It is not known where he is now.
        The story starts with Georges and Salomé looking for Léonard to adjust and calibrate the tiles navigational array of the Jorid, who seems to be affected by the auto-generated tiles which behave in too predictible fashion, instead of allowing for deeper explorations in the dimensions of space/time or dimensions of consciousness.
        Leonard was last spotted in a desert in quadrant AVB 34-7•8 – Cosmic time triangulation congruent to 2023 AD Earth era. More precisely the sand deserts of Bluhm’Oxl in the Zathu sector.

        When they find Léonard, they are propelled in new adventures. They possibly encounter new companions, and some mystery to solve in a similar fashion to the Odyssey, or Robinsons Lost in Space.

        Being able to tune into the probable quantum realities, the Jorid is able to trace the plot of their adventures even before they’ve been starting to unfold in no less than 33 chapters, giving them evocative titles.

        Here are the 33 chapters for the glorious adventures with some keywords under each to give some hints to the daring adventurers.

        1. Chapter 1: The Search Begins – Georges and Salomé, Léonard, Zathu sector, Bluhm’Oxl, dimensional magic
        2. Chapter 2: A New Companion – unexpected ally, discovery, adventure
        3. Chapter 3: Into the Desert – Bluhm’Oxl, sand dunes, treacherous journey
        4. Chapter 4: The First Clue – search for Léonard, mystery, puzzle
        5. Chapter 5: The Oasis – rest, rekindling hope, unexpected danger
        6. Chapter 6: The Lost City – ancient civilization, artifacts, mystery
        7. Chapter 7: A Dangerous Encounter – hostile aliens, survival, bravery
        8. Chapter 8: A New Threat – ancient curse, ominous presence, danger
        9. Chapter 9: The Key to the Past – uncovering secrets, solving puzzles, unlocking power
        10. Chapter 10: The Guardian’s Temple – mystical portal, discovery, knowledge
        11. Chapter 11: The Celestial Map – space-time navigation, discovery, enlightenment
        12. Chapter 12: The First Step – journey through dimensions, bravery, adventure
        13. Chapter 13: The Cosmic Rift – strange anomalies, dangerous zones, exploration
        14. Chapter 14: A Surprising Discovery – unexpected allies, strange creatures, intrigue
        15. Chapter 15: The Memory Stones – ancient wisdom, unlock hidden knowledge, unlock the past
        16. Chapter 16: The Time Stream – navigating through time, adventure, danger
        17. Chapter 17: The Mirror Dimension – parallel world, alternate reality, discovery
        18. Chapter 18: A Distant Planet – alien world, strange cultures, exploration
        19. Chapter 19: The Starlight Forest – enchanted forest, secrets, danger
        20. Chapter 20: The Temple of the Mind – exploring consciousness, inner journey, enlightenment
        21. Chapter 21: The Sea of Souls – mystical ocean, hidden knowledge, inner peace
        22. Chapter 22: The Path of the Truth – search for meaning, self-discovery, enlightenment
        23. Chapter 23: The Cosmic Library – ancient knowledge, discovery, enlightenment
        24. Chapter 24: The Dream Plane – exploring the subconscious, self-discovery, enlightenment
        25. Chapter 25: The Shadow Realm – dark dimensions, fear, danger
        26. Chapter 26: The Fire Planet – intense heat, dangerous creatures, bravery
        27. Chapter 27: The Floating Islands – aerial adventure, strange creatures, discovery
        28. Chapter 28: The Crystal Caves – glittering beauty, hidden secrets, danger
        29. Chapter 29: The Eternal Night – unknown world, strange creatures, fear
        30. Chapter 30: The Lost Civilization – ancient ruins, mystery, adventure
        31. Chapter 31: The Vortex – intense energy, danger, bravery
        32. Chapter 32: The Cosmic Storm – weather extremes, danger, survival
        33. Chapter 33: The Return – reunion with Léonard, returning to the Jorid, new adventures.
        #6448

        In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

        In the muggy warmth of the night, Yasmin tossed and turned on her bed. A small fan on the bedside table rattled noisily next to her but did little to dispel the heat. She kicked the thin sheet covering her to the ground, only to retrieve it and gather it tightly around herself when she heard a familiar sound.

        “You little shit,” she hissed, slapping wildly in the direction of the high pitched whine.

        She could make out the sound of a child crying in the distance and briefly considered  getting up to check before hearing quick footsteps pass her door. Sister Aliti was on duty tonight. She liked Sister Aliti with her soft brown eyes and wide toothy smile — nothing seemed to rattle her.  She liked all the Nuns, perhaps with the exception of Sister Finnlie.

        Sister Finnlie was a sharp faced woman who was obsessed with cleanliness and sometimes made the children cry for such silly little things … perhaps if they talked too loudly or spilled some crumbs on the floor at lunch time. “Let them be, Sister,” Sister Aliti would admonish her and Sister Finnlie would pinch her lips and make a huffing noise.

        The other day, during the morning reflection time when everyone sat in silent contemplation, Yasmin had found herself fixated on Sister Finnlie’s hands, her thin fingers tidily entwined on her lap. And Yasmin remembered a conversation with her friends online about AI creating a cleaning woman with sausage fingers. “Sometimes they look like a can of worms,” Youssef had said.

        And, looking at those fingers and thinking about Youssef and the others and the fun conversations they had, Yasmin snort laughed.

        She had tried to suppress it but the more she tried the more it built up inside of her until it exploded from her nose in a loud grunting noise. Sister Aliti had giggled but Sister Finnlie had glared at Yasmin and very pointedly rolled her eyes. Later, she’d put her on bin cleaning duty, surely the worst job ever, and Yasmin knew for sure it was pay back.

        #6423

        In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Zara’s first quest:

          entry level quirk: wandering off the track

          The initial setting for this quest is a dense forest, where the paths are overgrown and rarely traveled. You find yourself alone and disoriented, with only a rough map and a compass to guide you.

          Possible directions to investigate include:

          Following a faint trail of footprints that lead deeper into the forest

          Climbing a tall tree to get a better view of the surrounding area

          Searching for a stream or river to use as a guide to find your way out of the forest

          Possible characters to engage include:

          A mysterious hermit who lives deep in the forest and is rumored to know the secrets of the land

          A lost traveler who is also trying to find their way out of the forest

          A group of bandits who have taken refuge in the forest and may try to steal from you or cause harm

          Your objective is to find the Wanderlust tile, a small, intricately carved wooden tile depicting a person walking off the beaten path. This tile holds the key to unlocking your inner quirk of wandering off the track.

          As proof of your progress in the game, you must find a way to incorporate this quirk into your real-life actions by taking a spontaneous detour on your next journey, whether it be physical or mental.

          For Zara’s quest:

          As you wander off the track, you come across a strange-looking building in the distance. Upon closer inspection, you realize it is the Flying Fish Inn. As you enter, you are greeted by the friendly owner, Idle. She tells you that she has heard of strange occurrences happening in the surrounding area and offers to help you in your quest

          Emoji clue:  🐈🌳 :cat_confused:

           

          Zara (the character in the game)

          characteristics from previous prompts:

          Zara is the leader of the group  :yahoo_thinking:  she is confident, and always ready for an adventure. She is a natural leader and has a strong sense of justice. She is also a tech-savvy person, always carrying a variety of gadgets with her, and is always the first to try out new technology.

          Zara is the leader of the group, her color is red, her animal is a lion, and her secret name in a funny language is “Zaraloon”

           

          Zara (the real life story character)

          characteristics from previous prompts:

          Zara Patara-Smythe is a 57-year-old woman of mixed heritage, her mother is Indian and her father is British. She has long, dark hair that she keeps in an untidy ponytail, dark brown eyes and a sharp jawline. She stands at 5’6″ and has a toned and athletic build. She usually wears practical clothing that allows her to move around easily, such as cargo pants and a tank top.

          prompt quest:

          Continue to investigate the mysterious cat she saw, possibly seeking out help from local animal experts or veterinarians.
          Join Xavier and Yasmin in investigating the Flying Fish Inn, looking for clues and exploring the area for any potential leads on the game’s quest.

          #6391
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            write the plot of an absurd non-linear novel, featuring 4 characters

            The novel begins with the introduction of four characters: a retired archaeologist named Harold, a struggling musician named Samantha, a disillusioned corporate drone named Tim, and a reclusive inventor named Claire.

            Harold, who is obsessed with ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, discovers a mysterious underground chamber beneath a pyramid in Egypt. Inside, he finds a strange device that he believes is a time machine. Harold decides to use the device to travel back in time to ancient Egypt in order to decipher the hieroglyphs.

            Samantha, who is trying to make a name for herself as a musician, is struggling to come up with new material for her music. One day, she discovers that she can create beautiful music by communicating with plants telepathically. She becomes obsessed with this new form of music-making and decides to quit her day job and pursue it full-time.

            Tim, who is stuck in a dead-end job, is feeling unfulfilled and uninspired. One day, he stumbles upon a robotic mime performance art show. The performance inspires him to quit his job and pursue his dream of becoming a mime artist.

            Claire, who is a reclusive inventor, has been working on a project to create a type of artificial intelligence that can communicate with humans using calligraphic body language. She finally succeeds and creates an AI that she names “Calli”.

            As the story progresses, the characters’ paths begin to intersect in unexpected ways. Harold gets stuck in ancient Egypt and has to rely on Samantha’s telepathic plant communication skills to find a way back to the present. Tim’s robotic mime art becomes a hit and he starts working with Claire to integrate Calli into his performances.

            As the story reaches its climax, all four characters come together to use their unique skills and abilities to solve a problem that threatens the fate of the world.

            Throughout the novel, the plot unfolds in a non-linear fashion, jumping back and forth in time and between the different character’s perspectives. The story is filled with absurdity and unexpected twists and turns, leaving the reader guessing until the very end.

            What sort of problem that threatens the fate of the world will be resolved by their combined skills?

            As the story progresses, the characters begin to uncover a sinister plot by a group of powerful individuals who are intent on using the time machine to alter the course of history for their own gain. They plan to use the time machine to go back in time and change key events that would give them immense wealth and power in the present. Harold and Samantha, with the help of Tim and Claire, must race against time to stop the villains from carrying out their plan.

            Harold’s expertise in ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs plays a crucial role in deciphering the clues that lead to the location of the time machine. Samantha’s telepathic plant communication skills are used to locate the hidden underground chamber where the time machine is kept. Tim’s robotic mime art and Claire’s AI Calli are used to infiltrate the villains’ hideout and gather intelligence on their plans.

            In the final act, the four characters come together to use their unique skills and abilities to stop the villains from altering history. Harold uses his knowledge of ancient Egypt to navigate the time machine and travel back in time to stop the villains from changing key events. Samantha uses her telepathic plant communication skills to communicate with the plants in the past and gather information on the villains’ whereabouts. Tim and Claire use their robotic mime and AI skills to create a diversion and distract the villains while Harold and Samantha complete their mission.

            In the end, the four characters succeed in stopping the villains and saving the fate of the world. The novel ends with the four characters going their separate ways, but they all know that they will always have each other to rely on in the face of any challenge that comes their way.

            #6389

            “What in the good name of our Lady, have these two been on?” Miss Bossy was at a loss for words while Ricardo was waiting sheepishly at her desk, as though he was expecting an outburst.
            “Look, Ricardo, I’m not against a little tweaking for newsworthiness, but this takes twisting reality to a whole new level!

            Ricardo had just dropped their last article.

            Local Hero at the Rescue – Stray Residents found after in a trip of a lifetime
            article by Hilda Astoria & Continuity Brown

            In a daring and heroic move, Nurse Trassie, a local hero and all-around fantastic human being, managed to track down and rescue three elderly women who had gone on an adventure of a lifetime. Sharon, Mavis, and Gloria (names may have been altered to preserve their anonymity) were residents of a UK nursing home who, in a moment of pure defiance and desire for adventure, decided to go off their meds and escape to the Nordics.

            The three women, who had been feeling cooped up and underappreciated in their nursing home, decided to take matters into their own hands and embark on a journey to see the world. They had heard of the beautiful landscapes and friendly people of the Nordics and their rejuvenating traditional cures and were determined to experience it for themselves.

            Their journey, however, was not without its challenges. They faced many obstacles, including harsh weather conditions and language barriers. But they were determined to press on, and their determination paid off when they were taken in by a kind-hearted local doctor who gave them asylum and helped them rehabilitate stray animals.

            Nurse Trassie, who had been on the lookout for the women since their disappearance, finally caught wind of their whereabouts and set out to rescue them. She tracked them down to the Nordics, where she found them living in a small facility in the woods, surrounded by a menagerie of stray animals they had taken in and were nursing back to health, including rare orangutans retired from local circus.

            Upon her arrival, Nurse Trassie was greeted with open arms by the women, who were overjoyed to see her. They told her of their adventures and showed her around their cabin, introducing her to the animals they had taken in and the progress they had made in rehabilitating them.

            Nurse Trassie, who is known for her compassion and dedication to her patients, was deeply touched by the women’s story and their love for the animals. She knew that they needed to be back in the care of professionals and that the animals needed to be properly cared for, so she made arrangements to bring them back home.

            The women were reluctant to leave their newfound home and the animals they had grown to love, but they knew that it was the right thing to do. They said their goodbyes and set off on the long journey back home with Nurse Trassie by their side.

            The three women returned to their nursing home filled with stories to share, and Nurse Trassie was hailed as a hero for her efforts in rescuing them. They were greeted with cheers and applause from the staff and other residents, who were thrilled to have them back safe and sound.

            Nurse Trassie, who is known for her sharp wit and sense of humor, commented on the situation with a tongue-in-cheek remark, “It’s not every day that you get to rescue three feisty elderlies from the wilds of the Nordics and bring them back to safety. I’m just glad I could be of service.”

            In conclusion, the three women’s adventure in the Nordics may have been unorthodox, but it was an adventure nonetheless. They were able to see the world and help some animals in the process. Their story serves as a reminder to never give up on your dreams, no matter your age or circumstances. And of course, a big shoutout to Nurse Trassie for her heroic actions and dedication to her patients.

            Bossy sighed. “It might do for now, but don’t let those two abuse the artificial intelligence to write article for them… I liked their old style better. This feels too… tidy. We’re not the A-News network, let’s not forget our purpose.”

            Ricardo nodded. Miss Bossy had been more mellow since the sales of the newspaper had exploded during the pandemic. With people at home, looking for conspiracies and all, the newspaper had known a resurgence of interest, and they even had to hire new staff. Giles Gibber, Glimmer Gambol (came heavily recommended by Blithe, the PI friend of Hilda’s), Samuel Sproink and Fionna Flibbergibbet.

            “And how is Sophie? That adventure into her past trauma was a bit much on her…” she mused.

            “She’s doing alright” answered Ricardo. “She’s learning to hone her remote-viewing skills to send our staff into new mysteries to solve. With a bit of AI assist…”

            “Oh, stop it already with your AI-this, AI-that! Hope there’ll still be room for some madness in all that neatly tidy purring of polite output.”

            “That’s why we’re here for, I reckon.” Ric’ smiled wryly.

            #6372
            ÉricÉric
            Keymaster

              About Badul

              5 important keywords linked to Badul

              Badul

              1. Action-space-time
              2. Harmonic fluid
              3. Rhythm
              4. Scale
              5. Choosing without limits.

              Imagine four friends, Jib, Franci, Tracy, and Eric, who are all deeply connected through their shared passion for music and performance. They often spend hours together creating and experimenting with different sounds and rhythms.

              One day, as they were playing together, they found that their combined energy had created a new essence, which they named Badul. This new essence was formed from the unique combination of their individual energies and personalities, and it quickly grew in autonomy and began to explore the world around it.

              As Badul began to explore, it discovered that it had the ability to understand and create complex rhythms, and that it could use this ability to bring people together and help them find a sense of connection and purpose.

              As Badul traveled, it would often come across individuals who were struggling to find their way in life. It would use its ability to create rhythm and connection to help these individuals understand themselves better and make the choices that were right for them.

              In the scene, Badul is exploring a city, playing with the rhythms of the city, through the traffic, the steps of people, the ambiance. Badul would observe a person walking in the streets, head down, lost in thoughts. Badul would start playing a subtle tune, and as the person hears it, starts to walk with the rhythm, head up, starting to smile.

              As the person continues to walk and follow the rhythm created by Badul, he begins to notice things he had never noticed before and begins to feel a sense of connection to the world around him. The music created by Badul serves as a guide, helping the person to understand himself and make the choices that will lead to a happier, more fulfilled life.

              In this way, Badul’s focus is to bring people together, to connect them to themselves and to the world around them through the power of rhythm and music, and to be an ally in the search of personal revelation and understanding.

              #6368
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                Something in the style of FPooh:

                Arona heard the music growing louder as she approached the source of the sound. She could see a group of people gathered around a large fire, the flickering light casting shadows on the faces of the dancers. She hesitated for a moment, remembering the isolation of her journey and wondering if she was ready to be among people again. But the music was too inviting, and she found herself drawn towards the group.

                As she neared the fire, she saw a young man playing a flute, the music flowing from his fingers with a fluid grace that captivated her. He looked up as she approached, and their eyes met. She could see the surprise and curiosity in his gaze, and she smiled, feeling a sense of connection she had not felt in a long time.

                Fiona was sitting on a bench in the park, watching the children play. She had brought her sketchbook with her, but for once she didn’t feel the urge to draw. Instead she watched the children’s laughter, feeling content and at peace. Suddenly, she saw a young girl running towards her, a look of pure joy on her face. The girl stopped in front of her and held out a flower, offering it to Fiona with a smile.

                Taken aback, Fiona took the flower and thanked the girl. The girl giggled and ran off to join her friends. Fiona looked down at the flower in her hand, and she felt a sense of inspiration, like a spark igniting within her. She opened her sketchbook and began to draw, feeling the weight lift from her shoulders and the magic of creativity flowing through her.

                Minky led the group of misfits towards the emporium, his bowler hat bobbing on his head. He chattered excitedly, telling stories of the wondrous items to be found within Mr Jib’s store. Yikesy followed behind, still lost in his thoughts of Arona and feeling a sense of dread at the thought of buying a bowler hat. The green fairy flitted along beside him, her wings a blur of movement as she chattered with the parrot perched on her shoulder.

                As they reached the emporium, they were disappointed to find it closed. But Minky refused to be discouraged, and he led them to a nearby cafe where they could sit and enjoy some tea and cake while they wait for the emporium to open. The green fairy was delighted, and she ordered a plate of macarons, smiling as she tasted the sweetness of the confections.

                About creativity & everyday magic

                Fiona had always been drawn to the magic of creativity, the way a blank page could be transformed into a world of wonder and beauty. But lately, she had been feeling stuck, unable to find the spark that ignited her imagination. She would sit with her sketchbook, pencil in hand, and nothing would come to her.

                She started to question her abilities, wondering if she had lost the magic of her art. She spent long hours staring at her blank pages, feeling a weight on her chest that seemed to be growing heavier every day.

                But then she remembered the green fairy’s tears and Yikesy’s longing for Arona, and she realized that the magic of creativity wasn’t something that could be found only in art. It was all around her, in the everyday moments of life.

                She started to look for the magic in the small things, like the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, or the way a child’s laughter could light up a room. She found it in the way a stranger’s smile could lift her spirits, and in the way a simple cup of tea could bring her comfort.

                And as she started to see the magic in the everyday, she found that the weight on her chest lifted and the spark of inspiration returned. She picked up her pencil and began to draw, feeling the magic flowing through her once again.

                She understand that creativity blocks aren’t a destination, but just a step, just like the bowler hat that Minky had bought for them all, a bit of everyday magic, nothing too fancy but a sense of belonging, a sense of who they are and where they are going. And she let her pencil flow, with the hopes that one day, they will all find their way home.

                #6366
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Asking the AI to expand on the glossary of the original Circle of Eights Story:

                  Locations

                  Malvina’s Cave: A dark and damp cave located in the heart of the Gripshawk mountains, known for its population of Glukenitch creatures.

                  Lan’ork: A vast and diverse continent known for its Eastern Lagunas, home to the Indogo flamingos. Dragon Head Peninsula: A rugged and mountainous region, home to the Langoat creatures and also known for its rich deposits of dragon ore.

                  Asgurdy: A sprawling desert region, known for its nomadic tribes who use Saurhse as mounts for transportation.

                  Golfindely: An idyllic coastal region known for its beautiful beaches and crystal clear waters, home to the Golfindel and Grake creatures.

                  Magical Schools

                  Dragonian Magic: A form of magic that is practiced by Dragonriders and Dragon tamers, which involves the manipulation of dragon energy and bonding with dragon companions.

                  Gripshawk Magic: A form of magic that is practiced by Gripshawks, which involves the manipulation of the natural elements and telepathic communication with other creatures.

                  Ugling Magic: A form of magic that is practiced by Uglings, which involves the use of charms, spells, and potions to manipulate the physical world.

                  Guilds

                  Dragon Riders Guild: A prestigious guild of dragon riders, responsible for maintaining peace and order in the world by using their dragon companions for protection and transportation.

                  Gripshawk Hunters Guild: A guild of skilled hunters who specialize in hunting and capturing exotic creatures for various purposes.

                  Ugling Alchemists Guild: A guild of alchemists and potion makers, who create various potions and elixirs for medicinal and magical purposes.

                  Organizations

                  The Order of the Buntifluën: A secret organization dedicated to the study and use of Buntifluën artefacts for the betterment of communication and understanding between sentient beings.

                  The Glubolín Network: A network of individuals who possess Glubolín devices, used for communication and sharing information across long distances.

                  The Sabulmantium Society: A society of scholars and adventurers who study the properties and uses of Sabulmantium devices for divination and navigation.

                  Here are a few new invented terms with their potential IPA pronunciations and definitions that would fit in this fantasy world:

                  Dragons:

                  Krynn [ ˈkrĭn ] : A subspecies of dragon known for its ability to control and manipulate time.

                  Creatures:

                  Kelpies [ ˈkĕl-pēz ] : Aquatic creatures resembling horses, known for their ability to shape-shift and lure unsuspecting victims into the water.

                  Magical Artefacts:

                  Dragonwhisper [ ˈdrā-gən-ˌhwis-pər ] : An ancient and powerful magical artifact, which allows the user to communicate and control dragons telepathically.

                  Necrotalisman [ ˈnĕk-rə-ˈtā-lĭz-mən ] : A magical artifact in the shape of a talisman that grants its wielder the ability to control and summon the dead.

                  Plants:

                  Blightthorn [ ˈblīt-ˌthôrn ] : A poisonous plant known for its dark purple flowers and thorny stem, its extract is used in dark magic

                  Faeleaf [ ˈfā-ˌlēf ] : A rare plant found in the deep forest known for its bright green leaves, its extract is used in healing potions

                  Locations:

                  The Shadowland [ ˈshā-dō-ˌland ] : A mysterious and dangerous land overrun by dark magic and controlled by Necromancers.

                  The Hidden Vale [ ˈhī-dən-ˈvāl ] : A secluded valley located deep in the mountains, home to the reclusive Faeleaf plants.

                  Organization:

                  The Necromancers’ Circle [ ˈnĕk-rə-ˈmän-sər-z-ˈsər-kəl ] : A secret organization of powerful necromancers who seek to expand their control over death and the dead.

                  Here are a few more invented terms with their potential IPA pronunciations and definitions that fit in this fantasy world, having less to do with necromancy, and more with various forms of consciousness or energy manipulation, magical or mythical creatures or species:

                  Creatures:

                  Eterneon [ ˈē-tər-ˈnē-ən ] : A species of winged creatures known for their ability to manipulate and harness the energy of the stars, they are highly sought after by astromancers and star-gazers.

                  Psicon [ ˈsī-ˌkän ] : A species of psychic creatures, known for their ability to read minds and influence emotions.

                  Magical Artefacts:

                  Energyshield [ ˈen-ər-jē-ˌshēld ] : A magical artifact that creates a protective barrier around the user, deflecting or absorbing any kind of energy-based attacks.

                  Empathstone [ ˈĕm-pāth-ˈstōn ] : A small, glowing stone which allows the user to sense and control the emotions of others.

                  Magical Schools:

                  Energyshaping [ ˈen-ər-jē-ˌshāp-ing ] : A school of magic that involves the manipulation and control of various forms of energy.

                  Empathymagic [ ˈĕm-pā-thē-ˈmaj-ik ] : A school of magic that involves the manipulation of emotions and the ability to sense the emotions of others.

                  Locations:

                  Eternity’s Edge [ ˈē-tər-nə-tēz-ˈēj] : A remote and mysterious cliff located high in the mountains, known for its strong emanations of star energy and rumored to be home to a hidden community of Eterneons.

                  Psicon’s Den [ ˈsī-kän-z-ˈdĕn] : A secret cave system located deep within the forest, it is said to be home to a colony of Psicon creatures.

                  Organizations:

                  The Energists Guild [ ˈen-ər-jist-z-ˈgild] : A powerful guild of magic users specializing in Energyshaping magic.

                  The Empath Council [ ˈĕm-pāth-ˈkoun-səl]: A secretive group of Empathymagic users, dedicated to the study and control of emotions.

                   

                  #6348
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Wong Sang

                     

                    Wong Sang was born in China in 1884. In October 1916 he married Alice Stokes in Oxford.

                    Alice was the granddaughter of William Stokes of Churchill, Oxfordshire and William was the brother of Thomas Stokes the wheelwright (who was my 3X great grandfather). In other words Alice was my second cousin, three times removed, on my fathers paternal side.

                    Wong Sang was an interpreter, according to the baptism registers of his children and the Dreadnought Seamen’s Hospital admission registers in 1930.  The hospital register also notes that he was employed by the Blue Funnel Line, and that his address was 11, Limehouse Causeway, E 14. (London)

                    “The Blue Funnel Line offered regular First-Class Passenger and Cargo Services From the UK to South Africa, Malaya, China, Japan, Australia, Java, and America.  Blue Funnel Line was Owned and Operated by Alfred Holt & Co., Liverpool.
                    The Blue Funnel Line, so-called because its ships have a blue funnel with a black top, is more appropriately known as the Ocean Steamship Company.”

                     

                    Wong Sang and Alice’s daughter, Frances Eileen Sang, was born on the 14th July, 1916 and baptised in 1920 at St Stephen in Poplar, Tower Hamlets, London.  The birth date is noted in the 1920 baptism register and would predate their marriage by a few months, although on the death register in 1921 her age at death is four years old and her year of birth is recorded as 1917.

                    Charles Ronald Sang was baptised on the same day in May 1920, but his birth is recorded as April of that year.  The family were living on Morant Street, Poplar.

                    James William Sang’s birth is recorded on the 1939 census and on the death register in 2000 as being the 8th March 1913.  This definitely would predate the 1916 marriage in Oxford.

                    William Norman Sang was born on the 17th October 1922 in Poplar.

                    Alice and the three sons were living at 11, Limehouse Causeway on the 1939 census, the same address that Wong Sang was living at when he was admitted to Dreadnought Seamen’s Hospital on the 15th January 1930. Wong Sang died in the hospital on the 8th March of that year at the age of 46.

                    Alice married John Patterson in 1933 in Stepney. John was living with Alice and her three sons on Limehouse Causeway on the 1939 census and his occupation was chef.

                    Via Old London Photographs:

                    “Limehouse Causeway is a street in east London that was the home to the original Chinatown of London. A combination of bomb damage during the Second World War and later redevelopment means that almost nothing is left of the original buildings of the street.”

                    Limehouse Causeway in 1925:

                    Limehouse Causeway

                     

                    From The Story of Limehouse’s Lost Chinatown, poplarlondon website:

                    “Limehouse was London’s first Chinatown, home to a tightly-knit community who were demonised in popular culture and eventually erased from the cityscape.

                    As recounted in the BBC’s ‘Our Greatest Generation’ series, Connie was born to a Chinese father and an English mother in early 1920s Limehouse, where she used to play in the street with other British and British-Chinese children before running inside for teatime at one of their houses. 

                    Limehouse was London’s first Chinatown between the 1880s and the 1960s, before the current Chinatown off Shaftesbury Avenue was established in the 1970s by an influx of immigrants from Hong Kong. 

                    Connie’s memories of London’s first Chinatown as an “urban village” paint a very different picture to the seedy area portrayed in early twentieth century novels. 

                    The pyramid in St Anne’s church marked the entrance to the opium den of Dr Fu Manchu, a criminal mastermind who threatened Western society by plotting world domination in a series of novels by Sax Rohmer. 

                    Thomas Burke’s Limehouse Nights cemented stereotypes about prostitution, gambling and violence within the Chinese community, and whipped up anxiety about sexual relationships between Chinese men and white women. 

                    Though neither novelist was familiar with the Chinese community, their depictions made Limehouse one of the most notorious areas of London. 

                    Travel agent Thomas Cook even organised tours of the area for daring visitors, despite the rector of Limehouse warning that “those who look for the Limehouse of Mr Thomas Burke simply will not find it.”

                    All that remains is a handful of Chinese street names, such as Ming Street, Pekin Street, and Canton Street — but what was Limehouse’s chinatown really like, and why did it get swept away?

                    Chinese migration to Limehouse 

                    Chinese sailors discharged from East India Company ships settled in the docklands from as early as the 1780s.

                    By the late nineteenth century, men from Shanghai had settled around Pennyfields Lane, while a Cantonese community lived on Limehouse Causeway. 

                    Chinese sailors were often paid less and discriminated against by dock hirers, and so began to diversify their incomes by setting up hand laundry services and restaurants. 

                    Old photographs show shopfronts emblazoned with Chinese characters with horse-drawn carts idling outside or Chinese men in suits and hats standing proudly in the doorways. 

                    In oral histories collected by Yat Ming Loo, Connie’s husband Leslie doesn’t recall seeing any Chinese women as a child, since male Chinese sailors settled in London alone and married working-class English women. 

                    In the 1920s, newspapers fear-mongered about interracial marriages, crime and gambling, and described chinatown as an East End “colony.” 

                    Ironically, Chinese opium-smoking was also demonised in the press, despite Britain waging war against China in the mid-nineteenth century for suppressing the opium trade to alleviate addiction amongst its people. 

                    The number of Chinese people who settled in Limehouse was also greatly exaggerated, and in reality only totalled around 300. 

                    The real Chinatown 

                    Although the press sought to characterise Limehouse as a monolithic Chinese community in the East End, Connie remembers seeing people of all nationalities in the shops and community spaces in Limehouse.

                    She doesn’t remember feeling discriminated against by other locals, though Connie does recall having her face measured and IQ tested by a member of the British Eugenics Society who was conducting research in the area. 

                    Some of Connie’s happiest childhood memories were from her time at Chung-Hua Club, where she learned about Chinese culture and language.

                    Why did Chinatown disappear? 

                    The caricature of Limehouse’s Chinatown as a den of vice hastened its erasure. 

                    Police raids and deportations fuelled by the alarmist media coverage threatened the Chinese population of Limehouse, and slum clearance schemes to redevelop low-income areas dispersed Chinese residents in the 1930s. 

                    The Defence of the Realm Act imposed at the beginning of the First World War criminalised opium use, gave the authorities increased powers to deport Chinese people and restricted their ability to work on British ships.

                    Dwindling maritime trade during World War II further stripped Chinese sailors of opportunities for employment, and any remnants of Chinatown were destroyed during the Blitz or erased by postwar development schemes.”

                     

                    Wong Sang 1884-1930

                    The year 1918 was a troublesome one for Wong Sang, an interpreter and shipping agent for Blue Funnel Line.  The Sang family were living at 156, Chrisp Street.

                    Chrisp Street, Poplar, in 1913 via Old London Photographs:

                    Chrisp Street

                     

                    In February Wong Sang was discharged from a false accusation after defending his home from potential robbers.

                    East End News and London Shipping Chronicle – Friday 15 February 1918:

                    1918 Wong Sang

                     

                    In August of that year he was involved in an incident that left him unconscious.

                    Faringdon Advertiser and Vale of the White Horse Gazette – Saturday 31 August 1918:

                    1918 Wong Sang 2

                     

                    Wong Sang is mentioned in an 1922 article about “Oriental London”.

                    London and China Express – Thursday 09 February 1922:

                    1922 Wong Sang

                    A photograph of the Chee Kong Tong Chinese Freemason Society mentioned in the above article, via Old London Photographs:

                    Chee Kong Tong

                     

                    Wong Sang was recommended by the London Metropolitan Police in 1928 to assist in a case in Wellingborough, Northampton.

                    Difficulty of Getting an Interpreter: Northampton Mercury – Friday 16 March 1928:

                    1928 Wong Sang

                    1928 Wong Sang 2

                    The difficulty was that “this man speaks the Cantonese language only…the Northeners and the Southerners in China have differing languages and the interpreter seemed to speak one that was in between these two.”

                     

                    In 1917, Alice Wong Sang was a witness at her sister Harriet Stokes marriage to James William Watts in Southwark, London.  Their father James Stokes occupation on the marriage register is foreman surveyor, but on the census he was a council roadman or labourer. (I initially rejected this as the correct marriage for Harriet because of the discrepancy with the occupations. Alice Wong Sang as a witness confirmed that it was indeed the correct one.)

                    1917 Alice Wong Sang

                     

                     

                    James William Sang 1913-2000 was a clock fitter and watch assembler (on the 1939 census). He married Ivy Laura Fenton in 1963 in Sidcup, Kent. James died in Southwark in 2000.

                    Charles Ronald Sang 1920-1974  was a draughtsman (1939 census). He married Eileen Burgess in 1947 in Marylebone.  Charles and Eileen had two sons:  Keith born in 1951 and Roger born in 1952.  He died in 1974 in Hertfordshire.

                    William Norman Sang 1922-2000 was a clerk and telephone operator (1939 census).  William enlisted in the Royal Artillery in 1942. He married Lily Mullins in 1949 in Bethnal Green, and they had three daughters: Marion born in 1950, Christine in 1953, and Frances in 1959.  He died in Redbridge in 2000.

                     

                    I then found another two births registered in Poplar by Alice Sang, both daughters.  Doris Winifred Sang was born in 1925, and Patricia Margaret Sang was born in 1933 ~ three years after Wong Sang’s death.  Neither of the these daughters were on the 1939 census with Alice, John Patterson and the three sons.  Margaret had presumably been evacuated because of the war to a family in Taunton, Somerset. Doris would have been fourteen and I have been unable to find her in 1939 (possibly because she died in 2017 and has not had the redaction removed  yet on the 1939 census as only deceased people are viewable).

                    Doris Winifred Sang 1925-2017 was a nursing sister. She didn’t marry, and spent a year in USA between 1954 and 1955. She stayed in London, and died at the age of ninety two in 2017.

                    Patricia Margaret Sang 1933-1998 was also a nurse. She married Patrick L Nicely in Stepney in 1957.  Patricia and Patrick had five children in London: Sharon born 1959, Donald in 1960, Malcolm was born and died in 1966, Alison was born in 1969 and David in 1971.

                     

                    I was unable to find a birth registered for Alice’s first son, James William Sang (as he appeared on the 1939 census).  I found Alice Stokes on the 1911 census as a 17 year old live in servant at a tobacconist on Pekin Street, Limehouse, living with Mr Sui Fong from Hong Kong and his wife Sarah Sui Fong from Berlin.  I looked for a birth registered for James William Fong instead of Sang, and found it ~ mothers maiden name Stokes, and his date of birth matched the 1939 census: 8th March, 1913.

                    On the 1921 census, Wong Sang is not listed as living with them but it is mentioned that Mr Wong Sang was the person returning the census.  Also living with Alice and her sons James and Charles in 1921 are two visitors:  (Florence) May Stokes, 17 years old, born in Woodstock, and Charles Stokes, aged 14, also born in Woodstock. May and Charles were Alice’s sister and brother.

                     

                    I found Sharon Nicely on social media and she kindly shared photos of Wong Sang and Alice Stokes:

                    Wong Sang

                     

                    Alice Stokes

                    #6342
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Brownings of Tetbury

                      Tetbury 1839

                       

                      Isaac Browning (1784-1848) married Mary Lock (1787-1870) in Tetbury in 1806. Both of them were born in Tetbury, Gloucestershire. Isaac was a stone mason. Between 1807 and 1832 they baptised fourteen children in Tetbury, and on 8 Nov 1829 Isaac and Mary baptised five daughters all on the same day.

                      I considered that they may have been quintuplets, with only the last born surviving, which would have answered my question about the name of the house La Quinta in Broadway, the home of Eliza Browning and Thomas Stokes son Fred. However, the other four daughters were found in various records and they were not all born the same year. (So I still don’t know why the house in Broadway had such an unusual name).

                      Their son George was born and baptised in 1827, but Louisa born 1821, Susan born 1822, Hesther born 1823 and Mary born 1826, were not baptised until 1829 along with Charlotte born in 1828. (These birth dates are guesswork based on the age on later censuses.) Perhaps George was baptised promptly because he was sickly and not expected to survive. Isaac and Mary had a son George born in 1814 who died in 1823. Presumably the five girls were healthy and could wait to be done as a job lot on the same day later.

                      Eliza Browning (1814-1886), my great great great grandmother, had a baby six years before she married Thomas Stokes. Her name was Ellen Harding Browning, which suggests that her fathers name was Harding. On the 1841 census seven year old Ellen was living with her grandfather Isaac Browning in Tetbury. Ellen Harding Browning married William Dee in Tetbury in 1857, and they moved to Western Australia.

                      Ellen Harding Browning Dee: (photo found on ancestry website)

                      Ellen Harding Browning

                      OBITUARY. MRS. ELLEN DEE.
                      A very old and respected resident of Dongarra, in the person of Mrs. Ellen Dee, passed peacefully away on Sept. 27, at the advanced age of 74 years.

                      The deceased had been ailing for some time, but was about and actively employed until Wednesday, Sept. 20, whenn she was heard groaning by some neighbours, who immediately entered her place and found her lying beside the fireplace. Tho deceased had been to bed over night, and had evidently been in the act of lighting thc fire, when she had a seizure. For some hours she was conscious, but had lost the power of speech, and later on became unconscious, in which state she remained until her death.

                      The deceased was born in Gloucestershire, England, in 1833, was married to William Dee in Tetbury Church 23 years later. Within a month she left England with her husband for Western Australian in the ship City oí Bristol. She resided in Fremantle for six months, then in Greenough for a short time, and afterwards (for 42 years) in Dongarra. She was, therefore, a colonist of about 51 years. She had a family of four girls and three boys, and five of her children survive her, also 35 grandchildren, and eight great grandchildren. She was very highly respected, and her sudden collapse came as a great shock to many.

                       

                      Eliza married Thomas Stokes (1816-1885) in September 1840 in Hempstead, Gloucestershire. On the 1841 census, Eliza and her mother Mary Browning (nee Lock) were staying with Thomas Lock and family in Cirencester. Strangely, Thomas Stokes has not been found thus far on the 1841 census, and Thomas and Eliza’s first child William James Stokes birth was registered in Witham, in Essex, on the 6th of September 1841.

                      I don’t know why William James was born in Witham, or where Thomas was at the time of the census in 1841. One possibility is that as Thomas Stokes did a considerable amount of work with circus waggons, circus shooting galleries and so on as a journeyman carpenter initially and then later wheelwright, perhaps he was working with a traveling circus at the time.

                      But back to the Brownings ~ more on William James Stokes to follow.

                      One of Isaac and Mary’s fourteen children died in infancy:  Ann was baptised and died in 1811. Two of their children died at nine years old: the first George, and Mary who died in 1835.  Matilda was 21 years old when she died in 1844.

                      Jane Browning (1808-)  married Thomas Buckingham in 1830 in Tetbury. In August 1838 Thomas was charged with feloniously stealing a black gelding.

                      Susan Browning (1822-1879) married William Cleaver in November 1844 in Tetbury. Oddly thereafter they use the name Bowman on the census. On the 1851 census Mary Browning (Susan’s mother), widow, has grandson George Bowman born in 1844 living with her. The confusion with the Bowman and Cleaver names was clarified upon finding the criminal registers:

                      30 January 1834. Offender: William Cleaver alias Bowman, Richard Bunting alias Barnfield and Jeremiah Cox, labourers of Tetbury. Crime: Stealing part of a dead fence from a rick barton in Tetbury, the property of Robert Tanner, farmer.

                       

                      And again in 1836:

                      29 March 1836 Bowman, William alias Cleaver, of Tetbury, labourer age 18; 5’2.5” tall, brown hair, grey eyes, round visage with fresh complexion; several moles on left cheek, mole on right breast. Charged on the oath of Ann Washbourn & others that on the morning of the 31 March at Tetbury feloniously stolen a lead spout affixed to the dwelling of the said Ann Washbourn, her property. Found guilty 31 March 1836; Sentenced to 6 months.

                      On the 1851 census Susan Bowman was a servant living in at a large drapery shop in Cheltenham. She was listed as 29 years old, married and born in Tetbury, so although it was unusual for a married woman not to be living with her husband, (or her son for that matter, who was living with his grandmother Mary Browning), perhaps her husband William Bowman alias Cleaver was in trouble again. By 1861 they are both living together in Tetbury: William was a plasterer, and they had three year old Isaac and Thomas, one year old. In 1871 William was still a plasterer in Tetbury, living with wife Susan, and sons Isaac and Thomas. Interestingly, a William Cleaver is living next door but one!

                      Susan was 56 when she died in Tetbury in 1879.

                       

                      Three of the Browning daughters went to London.

                      Louisa Browning (1821-1873) married Robert Claxton, coachman, in 1848 in Bryanston Square, Westminster, London. Ester Browning was a witness.

                      Ester Browning (1823-1893)(or Hester) married Charles Hudson Sealey, cabinet maker, in Bethnal Green, London, in 1854. Charles was born in Tetbury. Charlotte Browning was a witness.

                      Charlotte Browning (1828-1867?) was admitted to St Marylebone workhouse in London for “parturition”, or childbirth, in 1860. She was 33 years old.  A birth was registered for a Charlotte Browning, no mothers maiden name listed, in 1860 in Marylebone. A death was registered in Camden, buried in Marylebone, for a Charlotte Browning in 1867 but no age was recorded.  As the age and parents were usually recorded for a childs death, I assume this was Charlotte the mother.

                      I found Charlotte on the 1851 census by chance while researching her mother Mary Lock’s siblings.  Hesther Lock married Lewin Chandler, and they were living in Stepney, London.  Charlotte is listed as a neice. Although Browning is mistranscribed as Broomey, the original page says Browning. Another mistranscription on this record is Hesthers birthplace which is transcribed as Yorkshire. The original image shows Gloucestershire.

                       

                      Isaac and Mary’s first son was John Browning (1807-1860). John married Hannah Coates in 1834. John’s brother Charles Browning (1819-1853) married Eliza Coates in 1842. Perhaps they were sisters. On the 1861 census Hannah Browning, John’s wife, was a visitor in the Harding household in a village called Coates near Tetbury. Thomas Harding born in 1801 was the head of the household. Perhaps he was the father of Ellen Harding Browning.

                      George Browning (1828-1870) married Louisa Gainey in Tetbury, and died in Tetbury at the age of 42.  Their son Richard Lock Browning, a 32 year old mason, was sentenced to one month hard labour for game tresspass in Tetbury in 1884.

                      Isaac Browning (1832-1857) was the youngest son of Isaac and Mary. He was just 25 years old when he died in Tetbury.

                      #6326

                      In reply to: The Sexy Wooden Leg

                      Stung by Egberts question, Olga reeled and almost lost her footing on the stairs. What had happened to her?  That damned selfish individualism that was running rampant must have seeped into her room through the gaps in the windows or under the door.  “No!” she shouted, her voice cracking.

                      “Say it isn’t true, Olga,” Egbert said, his voice breaking.  “Not you as well.”

                      It took Olga a minute or two to still her racing heart.  The near fall down the stairs had shaken her but with trembling hands she levered herself round to sit beside Egbert on the step.

                      Gripping his bony knee with her knobbly arthritic fingers, she took a deep breath.

                      “You are right to have said that, Egbert.  If there is one thing we must hold onto, it’s our hearts. Nothing else matters, or at least nothing else matters as much as that.  We are old and tired and we don’t like change. But if we escalate the importance of this frankly dreary and depressing home to the point where we lose our hearts…” she faltered and continued.  “We will be homeless soon, very soon, and we know not what will happen to us.  We must trust in the kindness of strangers, we must hope they have a heart.”

                      Egbert winced as Olga squeezed his knee. “And that is why”, Olga continued, slapping Egberts thigh with gusto, “We must have a heart…”

                      “If you’d just stop squeezing and hitting me, Olga…”

                      Olga loosened her grip on the old mans thigh bone and peered into his eyes. Quietly she thanked him. “You’ve cleared my mind and given me something to live for, and I thank you for that. But you do need to launder your clothes more often,” she added, pulling a face. She didn’t want the old coot to start blubbing, and he looked alarmingly close to tears.

                      “Come on, let’s go and see Obadiah. We’re all in this together. Homelessness and adventure can wait until tomorrow.”  Olga heaved herself upright with a surprising burst of vitality.   Noticing a weak smile trembling on Egberts lips, she said “That’s the spirit!”

                      #6314

                      In reply to: The Sexy Wooden Leg

                      After her visit to the witch of the woods to get some medicine for her Mum who still had bouts of fatigue from her last encounter with the flu, the little Maryechka went back home as instructed.

                      She found her home empty. Her parents were busy in the fields, as the time of harvest was near, and much remained to be done to prepare, and workers were limited.

                      She left the pouch of dried herbs in the cabinet, and wondered if she should study. The schools were closed for early holidays, and they didn’t really bother with giving them much homework. She could see the teachers’ minds were worried with other things.

                      Unlike other children of her age, she wasn’t interested in all the activities online, phone-stuff. The other gen-alpha kids didn’t even bother mocking her “IRL”, glued to their screens while she instead enjoyed looking at the clear blue sky. For all she knew they didn’t even realize they were living in the same world. Now, they were probably over-stressed looking at all the news on replay.
                      For Maryechka, the war felt far away, even if you could see some of its impacts, with people moving about the nearby town.

                      Looking as it was still early in the day, and she had plenty more time left before having to prepare for dinner, she thought it’d be nice to go and visit her grand-parent and their friends at the old people’s home. They always had nice stale biscuits to share, and they told the strangest stories all the time.

                      It was just a 15 min walk from the farm, so she’d be there and back in no time.

                      #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.

                         

                        #6303
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          The Hollands of Barton under Needwood

                           

                          Samuel Warren of Stapenhill married Catherine Holland of Barton under Needwood in 1795.

                          I joined a Barton under Needwood History group and found an incredible amount of information on the Holland family, but first I wanted to make absolutely sure that our Catherine Holland was one of them as there were also Hollands in Newhall. Not only that, on the marriage licence it says that Catherine Holland was from Bretby Park Gate, Stapenhill.

                          Then I noticed that one of the witnesses on Samuel’s brother Williams marriage to Ann Holland in 1796 was John Hair. Hannah Hair was the wife of Thomas Holland, and they were the Barton under Needwood parents of Catherine. Catherine was born in 1775, and Ann was born in 1767.

                          The 1851 census clinched it: Catherine Warren 74 years old, widow and formerly a farmers wife, was living in the household of her son John Warren, and her place of birth is listed as Barton under Needwood. In 1841 Catherine was a 64 year old widow, her husband Samuel having died in 1837, and she was living with her son Samuel, a farmer. The 1841 census did not list place of birth, however. Catherine died on 31 March 1861 and does not appear on the 1861 census.

                          Once I had established that our Catherine Holland was from Barton under Needwood, I had another look at the information available on the Barton under Needwood History group, compiled by local historian Steve Gardner.

                          Catherine’s parents were Thomas Holland 1737-1828 and Hannah Hair 1739-1822.

                          Steve Gardner had posted a long list of the dates, marriages and children of the Holland family. The earliest entries in parish registers were Thomae Holland 1562-1626 and his wife Eunica Edwardes 1565-1632. They married on 10th July 1582. They were born, married and died in Barton under Needwood. They were direct ancestors of Catherine Holland, and as such my direct ancestors too.

                          The known history of the Holland family in Barton under Needwood goes back to Richard De Holland. (Thanks once again to Steve Gardner of the Barton under Needwood History group for this information.)

                          “Richard de Holland was the first member of the Holland family to become resident in Barton under Needwood (in about 1312) having been granted lands by the Earl of Lancaster (for whom Richard served as Stud and Stock Keeper of the Peak District) The Holland family stemmed from Upholland in Lancashire and had many family connections working for the Earl of Lancaster, who was one of the biggest Barons in England. Lancaster had his own army and lived at Tutbury Castle, from where he ruled over most of the Midlands area. The Earl of Lancaster was one of the main players in the ‘Barons Rebellion’ and the ensuing Battle of Burton Bridge in 1322. Richard de Holland was very much involved in the proceedings which had so angered Englands King. Holland narrowly escaped with his life, unlike the Earl who was executed.
                          From the arrival of that first Holland family member, the Hollands were a mainstay family in the community, and were in Barton under Needwood for over 600 years.”

                          Continuing with various items of information regarding the Hollands, thanks to Steve Gardner’s Barton under Needwood history pages:

                          “PART 6 (Final Part)
                          Some mentions of The Manor of Barton in the Ancient Staffordshire Rolls:
                          1330. A Grant was made to Herbert de Ferrars, at le Newland in the Manor of Barton.
                          1378. The Inquisitio bonorum – Johannis Holand — an interesting Inventory of his goods and their value and his debts.
                          1380. View of Frankpledge ; the Jury found that Richard Holland was feloniously murdered by his wife Joan and Thomas Graunger, who fled. The goods of the deceased were valued at iiij/. iijj. xid. ; one-third went to the dead man, one-third to his son, one- third to the Lord for the wife’s share. Compare 1 H. V. Indictments. (1413.)
                          That Thomas Graunger of Barton smyth and Joan the wife of Richard de Holond of Barton on the Feast of St. John the Baptist 10 H. II. (1387) had traitorously killed and murdered at night, at Barton, Richard, the husband of the said Joan. (m. 22.)
                          The names of various members of the Holland family appear constantly among the listed Jurors on the manorial records printed below : —
                          1539. Richard Holland and Richard Holland the younger are on the Muster Roll of Barton
                          1583. Thomas Holland and Unica his wife are living at Barton.
                          1663-4. Visitations. — Barton under Needword. Disclaimers. William Holland, Senior, William Holland, Junior.
                          1609. Richard Holland, Clerk and Alice, his wife.
                          1663-4. Disclaimers at the Visitation. William Holland, Senior, William Holland, Junior.”

                          I was able to find considerably more information on the Hollands in the book “Some Records of the Holland Family (The Hollands of Barton under Needwood, Staffordshire, and the Hollands in History)” by William Richard Holland. Luckily the full text of this book can be found online.

                          William Richard Holland (Died 1915) An early local Historian and author of the book:

                          William Richard Holland

                           

                          ‘Holland House’ taken from the Gardens (sadly demolished in the early 60’s):

                          Holland House

                           

                          Excerpt from the book:

                          “The charter, dated 1314, granting Richard rights and privileges in Needwood Forest, reads as follows:

                          “Thomas Earl of Lancaster and Leicester, high-steward of England, to whom all these present shall come, greeting: Know ye, that we have given, &c., to Richard Holland of Barton, and his heirs, housboot, heyboot, and fireboot, and common of pasture, in our forest of Needwood, for all his beasts, as well in places fenced as lying open, with 40 hogs, quit of pawnage in our said forest at all times in the year (except hogs only in fence month). All which premises we will warrant, &c. to the said Richard and his heirs against all people for ever”

                          “The terms “housboot” “heyboot” and “fireboot” meant that Richard and his heirs were to have the privilege of taking from the Forest, wood needed for house repair and building, hedging material for the repairing of fences, and what was needful for purposes of fuel.”

                          Further excerpts from the book:

                          “It may here be mentioned that during the renovation of Barton Church, when the stone pillars were being stripped of the plaster which covered them, “William Holland 1617” was found roughly carved on a pillar near to the belfry gallery, obviously the work of a not too devout member of the family, who, seated in the gallery of that time, occupied himself thus during the service. The inscription can still be seen.”

                          “The earliest mention of a Holland of Upholland occurs in the reign of John in a Final Concord, made at the Lancashire Assizes, dated November 5th, 1202, in which Uchtred de Chryche, who seems to have had some right in the manor of Upholland, releases his right in fourteen oxgangs* of land to Matthew de Holland, in consideration of the sum of six marks of silver. Thus was planted the Holland Tree, all the early information of which is found in The Victoria County History of Lancaster.

                          As time went on, the family acquired more land, and with this, increased position. Thus, in the reign of Edward I, a Robert de Holland, son of Thurstan, son of Robert, became possessed of the manor of Orrell adjoining Upholland and of the lordship of Hale in the parish of Childwall, and, through marriage with Elizabeth de Samlesbury (co-heiress of Sir Wm. de Samlesbury of Samlesbury, Hall, near to Preston), of the moiety of that manor….

                          * An oxgang signified the amount of land that could be ploughed by one ox in one day”

                          “This Robert de Holland, son of Thurstan, received Knighthood in the reign of Edward I, as did also his brother William, ancestor of that branch of the family which later migrated to Cheshire. Belonging to this branch are such noteworthy personages as Mrs. Gaskell, the talented authoress, her mother being a Holland of this branch, Sir Henry Holland, Physician to Queen Victoria, and his two sons, the first Viscount Knutsford, and Canon Francis Holland ; Sir Henry’s grandson (the present Lord Knutsford), Canon Scott Holland, etc. Captain Frederick Holland, R.N., late of Ashbourne Hall, Derbyshire, may also be mentioned here.*”

                          Thanks to the Barton under Needwood history group for the following:

                          WALES END FARM:
                          In 1509 it was owned and occupied by Mr Johannes Holland De Wallass end who was a well to do Yeoman Farmer (the origin of the areas name – Wales End).  Part of the building dates to 1490 making it probably the oldest building still standing in the Village:

                          Wales End Farm

                           

                          I found records for all of the Holland’s listed on the Barton under Needwood History group and added them to my ancestry tree. The earliest will I found was for Eunica Edwardes, then Eunica Holland, who died in 1632.

                          A page from the 1632 will and inventory of Eunica (Unice) Holland:

                          Unice Holland

                           

                          I’d been reading about “pedigree collapse” just before I found out her maiden name of Edwardes. Edwards is my own maiden name.

                          “In genealogy, pedigree collapse describes how reproduction between two individuals who knowingly or unknowingly share an ancestor causes the family tree of their offspring to be smaller than it would otherwise be.
                          Without pedigree collapse, a person’s ancestor tree is a binary tree, formed by the person, the parents, grandparents, and so on. However, the number of individuals in such a tree grows exponentially and will eventually become impossibly high. For example, a single individual alive today would, over 30 generations going back to the High Middle Ages, have roughly a billion ancestors, more than the total world population at the time. This apparent paradox occurs because the individuals in the binary tree are not distinct: instead, a single individual may occupy multiple places in the binary tree. This typically happens when the parents of an ancestor are cousins (sometimes unbeknownst to themselves). For example, the offspring of two first cousins has at most only six great-grandparents instead of the normal eight. This reduction in the number of ancestors is pedigree collapse. It collapses the binary tree into a directed acyclic graph with two different, directed paths starting from the ancestor who in the binary tree would occupy two places.” via wikipedia

                          There is nothing to suggest, however, that Eunica’s family were related to my fathers family, and the only evidence so far in my tree of pedigree collapse are the marriages of Orgill cousins, where two sets of grandparents are repeated.

                          A list of Holland ancestors:

                          Catherine Holland 1775-1861
                          her parents:
                          Thomas Holland 1737-1828   Hannah Hair 1739-1832
                          Thomas’s parents:
                          William Holland 1696-1756   Susannah Whiteing 1715-1752
                          William’s parents:
                          William Holland 1665-    Elizabeth Higgs 1675-1720
                          William’s parents:
                          Thomas Holland 1634-1681   Katherine Owen 1634-1728
                          Thomas’s parents:
                          Thomas Holland 1606-1680   Margaret Belcher 1608-1664
                          Thomas’s parents:
                          Thomas Holland 1562-1626   Eunice Edwardes 1565- 1632

                          #6284
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            To Australia

                            Grettons

                            Charles Herbert Gretton 1876-1954

                            Charles Gretton, my great grandmothers youngest brother, arrived in Sydney Australia on 12 February 1912, having set sail on 5 January 1912 from London. His occupation on the passenger list was stockman, and he was traveling alone.  Later that year, in October, his wife and two sons sailed out to join him.

                            Gretton 1912 passenger

                             

                            Charles was born in Swadlincote.  He married Mary Anne Illsley, a local girl from nearby Church Gresley, in 1898. Their first son, Leslie Charles Bloemfontein Gretton, was born in 1900 in Church Gresley, and their second son, George Herbert Gretton, was born in 1910 in Swadlincote.  In 1901 Charles was a colliery worker, and on the 1911 census, his occupation was a sanitary ware packer.

                            Charles and Mary Anne had two more sons, both born in Footscray:  Frank Orgill Gretton in 1914, and Arthur Ernest Gretton in 1920.

                            On the Australian 1914 electoral rolls, Charles and Mary Ann were living at 72 Moreland Street, Footscray, and in 1919 at 134 Cowper Street, Footscray, and Charles was a labourer.  In 1924, Charles was a sub foreman, living at 3, Ryan Street E, Footscray, Australia.  On a later electoral register, Charles was a foreman.  Footscray is a suburb of Melbourne, and developed into an industrial zone in the second half of the nineteenth century.

                            Charles died in Victoria in 1954 at the age of 77. His wife Mary Ann died in 1958.

                            Gretton obit 1954

                             

                            Charles and Mary Ann Gretton:

                            Charles and Mary Ann Gretton

                             

                            Leslie Charles Bloemfontein Gretton 1900-1955

                            Leslie was an electrician.   He married Ethel Christine Halliday, born in 1900 in Footscray, in 1927.  They had four children: Tom, Claire, Nancy and Frank. By 1943 they were living in Yallourn.  Yallourn, Victoria was a company town in Victoria, Australia built between the 1920s and 1950s to house employees of the State Electricity Commission of Victoria, who operated the nearby Yallourn Power Station complex. However, expansion of the adjacent open-cut brown coal mine led to the closure and removal of the town in the 1980s.

                            On the 1954 electoral registers, daughter Claire Elizabeth Gretton, occupation teacher, was living at the same address as Leslie and Ethel.

                            Leslie died in Yallourn in 1955, and Ethel nine years later in 1964, also in Yallourn.

                             

                            George Herbert Gretton 1910-1970

                            George married Florence May Hall in 1934 in Victoria, Australia.  In 1942 George was listed on the electoral roll as a grocer, likewise in 1949. In 1963 his occupation was a process worker, and in 1968 in Flinders, a horticultural advisor.

                            George died in Lang Lang, not far from Melbourne, in 1970.

                             

                            Frank Orgill Gretton 1914-

                            Arthur Ernest Gretton 1920-

                             

                            Orgills

                            John Orgill 1835-1911

                            John Orgill was Charles Herbert Gretton’s uncle.  He emigrated to Australia in 1865, and married Elizabeth Mary Gladstone 1845-1926 in Victoria in 1870. Their first child was born in December that year, in Dandenong. They had seven children, and their three sons all have the middle name Gladstone.

                            John Orgill was a councillor for the Shire of Dandenong in 1873, and between 1876 and 1879.

                            John Orgill:

                            John Orgill

                             

                            John Orgill obituary in the South Bourke and Mornington Journal, 21 December 1911:

                            John Orgill obit

                             

                             

                            John’s wife Elizabeth Orgill, a teacher and a “a public spirited lady” according to newspaper articles, opened a hydropathic hospital in Dandenong called Gladstone House.

                            Elizabeth Gladstone Orgill:

                            Elizabeth Gladstone Orgill

                             

                            On the Old Dandenong website:

                            Gladstone House hydropathic hospital on the corner of Langhorne and Foster streets (153 Foster Street) Dandenong opened in 1896, working on the theory of water therapy, no medicine or operations. Her husband passed away in 1911 at 77, around similar time Dr Barclay Thompson obtained control of the practice. Mrs Orgill remaining on in some capacity.

                            Elizabeth Mary Orgill (nee Gladstone) operated Gladstone House until at least 1911, along with another hydropathic hospital (Birthwood) on Cheltenham road. She was the daughter of William Gladstone (Nephew of William Ewart Gladstone, UK prime minister in 1874).

                            Around 1912 Dr A. E. Taylor took over the location from Dr. Barclay Thompson. Mrs Orgill was still working here but no longer controlled the practice, having given it up to Barclay. Taylor served as medical officer for the Shire for before his death in 1939. After Taylor’s death Dr. T. C. Reeves bought his practice in 1939, later that year being appointed medical officer,

                            Gladstone Road in Dandenong is named after her family, who owned and occupied a farming paddock in the area on former Police Paddock ground, the Police reserve having earlier been reduced back to Stud Road.

                            Hydropathy (now known as Hydrotherapy) and also called water cure, is a part of medicine and alternative medicine, in particular of naturopathy, occupational therapy and physiotherapy, that involves the use of water for pain relief and treatment.

                            Gladstone House, Dandenong:

                            Gladstone House

                             

                             

                            John’s brother Robert Orgill 1830-1915 also emigrated to Australia. I met (online) his great great grand daughter Lidya Orgill via the Old Dandenong facebook group.

                            John’s other brother Thomas Orgill 1833-1908 also emigrated to the same part of Australia.

                            Thomas Orgill:

                            Thomas Orgill

                             

                            One of Thomas Orgills sons was George Albert Orgill 1880-1949:

                            George Albert Orgill

                             

                            A letter was published in The South Bourke & Mornington Journal (Richmond, Victoria, Australia) on 17 Jun 1915, to Tom Orgill, Emerald Hill (South Melbourne) from hospital by his brother George Albert Orgill (4th Pioneers) describing landing of Covering Party prior to dawn invasion of Gallipoli:

                            George Albert Orgill letter

                             

                            Another brother Henry Orgill 1837-1916 was born in Measham and died in Dandenong, Australia. Henry was a bricklayer living in Measham on the 1861 census. Also living with his widowed mother Elizabeth at that address was his sister Sarah and her husband Richard Gretton, the baker (my great great grandparents). In October of that year he sailed to Melbourne.  His occupation was bricklayer on his death records in 1916.

                            Two of Henry’s sons, Arthur Garfield Orgill born 1888 and Ernest Alfred Orgill born 1880 were killed in action in 1917 and buried in Nord-Pas-de-Calais, France. Another son, Frederick Stanley Orgill, died in 1897 at the age of seven.

                            A fifth brother, William Orgill 1842-   sailed from Liverpool to Melbourne in 1861, at 19 years of age. Four years later in 1865 he sailed from Victoria, Australia to New Zealand.

                             

                            I assumed I had found all of the Orgill brothers who went to Australia, and resumed research on the Orgills in Measham, in England. A search in the British Newspaper Archives for Orgills in Measham revealed yet another Orgill brother who had gone to Australia.

                            Matthew Orgill 1828-1907 went to South Africa and to Australia, but returned to Measham.

                            The Orgill brothers had two sisters. One was my great great great grandmother Sarah, and the other was Hannah.  Hannah married Francis Hart in Measham. One of her sons, John Orgill Hart 1862-1909, was born in Measham.  On the 1881 census he was a 19 year old carpenters apprentice.  Two years later in 1883 he was listed as a joiner on the passenger list of the ship Illawarra, bound for Australia.   His occupation at the time of his death in Dandenong in 1909 was contractor.

                            An additional coincidental note about Dandenong: my step daughter Emily’s Australian partner is from Dandenong.

                             

                             

                            Housleys

                            Charles Housley 1823-1856

                            Charles Housley emigrated to Australia in 1851, the same year that his brother George emigrated to USA.  Charles is mentioned in the Narrative on the Letters by Barbara Housley, and appears in the Housley Letters chapters.

                             

                            Rushbys

                            George “Mike” Rushby 1933-

                            Mike moved to Australia from South Africa. His story is a separate chapter.

                            #6280

                            I started reading a book. In fact I started reading it three weeks ago, and have read the first page of the preface every night and fallen asleep. But my neck aches from doing too much gardening so I went back to bed to read this morning. I still fell asleep six times but at least I finished the preface. It’s the story of the family , initiated by the family collection of netsuke (whatever that is. Tiny Japanese carvings) But this is what stopped me reading and made me think (and then fall asleep each time I re read it)

                            “And I’m not entitled to nostalgia about all that lost wealth and glamour from a century ago. And I am not interested in thin. I want to know what the relationship has been between this wooden object that I am rolling between my fingers – hard and tricky and Japanese – and where it has been. I want to be able to reach to the handle of the door and turn it and feel it open. I want to walk into each room where this object has lived, to feel the volume of the space, to know what pictures were on the walls, how the light fell from the windows. And I want to know whose hands it has been in, and what they felt about it and thought about it – if they thought about it. I want to know what it has witnessed.” ― Edmund de Waal, The Hare With Amber Eyes: A Family’s Century of Art and Loss

                            And I felt almost bereft that none of the records tell me which way the light fell in through the windows.

                            I know who lived in the house in which years, but I don’t know who sat in the sun streaming through the window and which painting upon the wall they looked at and what the material was that covered the chair they sat on.

                            Were his clothes confortable (or hers, likely not), did he have an old favourite pair of trousers that his mother hated?

                            There is one house in particular that I keep coming back to. Like I got on the Housley train at Smalley and I can’t get off. Kidsley Grange Farm, they turned it into a nursing home and built extensions, and now it’s for sale for five hundred thousand pounds. But is the ghost still under the back stairs? Is there still a stain somewhere when a carafe of port was dropped?

                            Did Anns writing desk survive? Does someone have that, polished, with a vase of spring tulips on it? (on a mat of course so it doesn’t make a ring, despite that there are layers of beeswaxed rings already)

                            Does the desk remember the letters, the weight of a forearm or elbow, perhaps a smeared teardrop, or a comsumptive cough stain?

                            Is there perhaps a folded bit of paper or card that propped an uneven leg that fell through the floorboards that might tear into little squares if you found it and opened it, and would it be a rough draft of a letter never sent, or just a receipt for five head of cattle the summer before?

                            Did he hate the curtain material, or not even think of it? Did he love the house, or want to get away to see something new ~ or both?

                            Did he have a favourite cup, a favourite food, did he hate liver or cabbage?

                            Did he like his image when the photograph came from the studio or did he think it made his nose look big or his hair too thin, or did he wish he’d worn his other waistcoat?

                            Did he love his wife so much he couldn’t bear to see her dying, was it neglect or was it the unbearableness of it all that made him go away and drink?

                            Did the sun slanting in through the dormer window of his tiny attic room where he lodged remind him of ~ well no perhaps he was never in the room in daylight hours at all. Work all day and pub all night, keeping busy working hard and drinking hard and perhaps laughing hard, and maybe he only thought of it all on Sunday mornings.

                            So many deaths, one after another, his father, his wife, his brother, his sister, and another and another, all the coughing, all the debility. Perhaps he never understood why he lived and they did not, what kind of justice was there in that?

                            Did he take a souvenir or two with him, a handkerchief or a shawl perhaps, tucked away at the bottom of a battered leather bag that had his 3 shirts and 2 waistcoats in and a spare cap,something embroidered perhaps.

                            The quote in that book started me off with the light coming in the window and the need to know the simplest things, something nobody ever wrote in a letter, maybe never even mentioned to anyone.

                            Light coming in windows. I remeber when I was a teenager I had a day off sick and spent the whole day laying on the couch in a big window with the winter sun on my face all day, and I read Bonjour Tristesse in one sitting, and I’ll never forget that afternoon.  I don’t remember much about that book, but I remember being transported. But at the same time as being present in that sunny window.

                            “Stories and objects share something, a patina…Perhaps patina is a process of rubbing back so that the essential is revealed…But it also seems additive, in the way that a piece of oak furniture gains over years and years of polishing.”

                            “How objects are handed on is all about story-telling. I am giving you this because I love you. Or because it was given to me. Because I bought it somewhere special. Because you will care for it. Because it will complicate your life. Because it will make someone else envious. There is no easy story in legacy. What is remembered and what is forgotten? There can be a chain of forgetting, the rubbing away of previous ownership as much as the slow accretion of stories. What is being passed on to me with all these small Japanese objects?”

                            “There are things in this world that the children hear, but whose sounds oscillate below an adult’s sense of pitch.”

                            What did the children hear?

                            #6269
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              The Housley Letters 

                              From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters.

                               

                              William Housley (1781-1848) and Ellen Carrington were married on May 30, 1814 at St. Oswald’s church in Ashbourne. William died in 1848 at the age of 67 of “disease of lungs and general debility”. Ellen died in 1872.

                              Marriage of William Housley and Ellen Carrington in Ashbourne in 1814:

                              William and Ellen Marriage

                               

                              Parish records show three children for William and his first wife, Mary, Ellens’ sister, who were married December 29, 1806: Mary Ann, christened in 1808 and mentioned frequently in the letters; Elizabeth, christened in 1810, but never mentioned in any letters; and William, born in 1812, probably referred to as Will in the letters. Mary died in 1813.

                              William and Ellen had ten children: John, Samuel, Edward, Anne, Charles, George, Joseph, Robert, Emma, and Joseph. The first Joseph died at the age of four, and the last son was also named Joseph. Anne never married, Charles emigrated to Australia in 1851, and George to USA, also in 1851. The letters are to George, from his sisters and brothers in England.

                              The following are excerpts of those letters, including excerpts of Barbara Housley’s “Narrative on Historic Letters”. They are grouped according to who they refer to, rather than chronological order.

                               

                              ELLEN HOUSLEY 1795-1872

                              Joseph wrote that when Emma was married, Ellen “broke up the comfortable home and the things went to Derby and she went to live with them but Derby didn’t agree with her so she left again leaving her things behind and came to live with John in the new house where she died.” Ellen was listed with John’s household in the 1871 census.
                              In May 1872, the Ilkeston Pioneer carried this notice: “Mr. Hopkins will sell by auction on Saturday next the eleventh of May 1872 the whole of the useful furniture, sewing machine, etc. nearly new on the premises of the late Mrs. Housley at Smalley near Heanor in the county of Derby. Sale at one o’clock in the afternoon.”

                              Ellen’s family was evidently rather prominant in Smalley. Two Carringtons (John and William) served on the Parish Council in 1794. Parish records are full of Carrington marriages and christenings; census records confirm many of the family groupings.

                              In June of 1856, Emma wrote: “Mother looks as well as ever and was told by a lady the other day that she looked handsome.” Later she wrote: “Mother is as stout as ever although she sometimes complains of not being able to do as she used to.”

                               

                              Mary’s children:

                              MARY ANN HOUSLEY  1808-1878

                              There were hard feelings between Mary Ann and Ellen and her children. Anne wrote: “If you remember we were not very friendly when you left. They never came and nothing was too bad for Mary Ann to say of Mother and me, but when Robert died Mother sent for her to the funeral but she did not think well to come so we took no more notice. She would not allow her children to come either.”

                              Mary Ann was unlucky in love! In Anne’s second letter she wrote: “William Carrington is paying Mary Ann great attention. He is living in London but they write to each other….We expect it will be a match.” Apparantly the courtship was stormy for in 1855, Emma wrote: “Mary Ann’s wedding with William Carrington has dropped through after she had prepared everything, dresses and all for the occassion.” Then in 1856, Emma wrote: “William Carrington and Mary Ann are separated. They wore him out with their nonsense.” Whether they ever married is unclear. Joseph wrote in 1872: “Mary Ann was married but her husband has left her. She is in very poor health. She has one daughter and they are living with their mother at Smalley.”

                              Regarding William Carrington, Emma supplied this bit of news: “His sister, Mrs. Lily, has eloped with a married man. Is she not a nice person!”

                               

                              WILLIAM HOUSLEY JR. 1812-1890

                              According to a letter from Anne, Will’s two sons and daughter were sent to learn dancing so they would be “fit for any society.” Will’s wife was Dorothy Palfry. They were married in Denby on October 20, 1836 when Will was 24. According to the 1851 census, Will and Dorothy had three sons: Alfred 14, Edwin 12, and William 10. All three boys were born in Denby.

                              In his letter of May 30, 1872, after just bemoaning that all of his brothers and sisters are gone except Sam and John, Joseph added: “Will is living still.” In another 1872 letter Joseph wrote, “Will is living at Heanor yet and carrying on his cattle dealing.” The 1871 census listed Will, 59, and his son William, 30, of Lascoe Road, Heanor, as cattle dealers.

                               

                              Ellen’s children:

                              JOHN HOUSLEY  1815-1893

                              John married Sarah Baggally in Morely in 1838. They had at least six children. Elizabeth (born 2 May 1838) was “out service” in 1854. In her “third year out,” Elizabeth was described by Anne as “a very nice steady girl but quite a woman in appearance.” One of her positions was with a Mrs. Frearson in Heanor. Emma wrote in 1856: “Elizabeth is still at Mrs. Frearson. She is such a fine stout girl you would not know her.” Joseph wrote in 1872 that Elizabeth was in service with Mrs. Eliza Sitwell at Derby. (About 1850, Miss Eliza Wilmot-Sitwell provided for a small porch with a handsome Norman doorway at the west end of the St. John the Baptist parish church in Smalley.)

                              According to Elizabeth’s birth certificate and the 1841 census, John was a butcher. By 1851, the household included a nurse and a servant, and John was listed as a “victular.” Anne wrote in February 1854, “John has left the Public House a year and a half ago. He is living where Plumbs (Ann Plumb witnessed William’s death certificate with her mark) did and Thomas Allen has the land. He has been working at James Eley’s all winter.” In 1861, Ellen lived with John and Sarah and the three boys.

                              John sold his share in the inheritance from their mother and disappeared after her death. (He died in Doncaster, Yorkshire, in 1893.) At that time Charles, the youngest would have been 21. Indeed, Joseph wrote in July 1872: “John’s children are all grown up”.

                              In May 1872, Joseph wrote: “For what do you think, John has sold his share and he has acted very bad since his wife died and at the same time he sold all his furniture. You may guess I have never seen him but once since poor mother’s funeral and he is gone now no one knows where.”

                              In February 1874 Joseph wrote: “You want to know what made John go away. Well, I will give you one reason. I think I told you that when his wife died he persuaded me to leave Derby and come to live with him. Well so we did and dear Harriet to keep his house. Well he insulted my wife and offered things to her that was not proper and my dear wife had the power to resist his unmanly conduct. I did not think he could of served me such a dirty trick so that is one thing dear brother. He could not look me in the face when we met. Then after we left him he got a woman in the house and I suppose they lived as man and wife. She caught the small pox and died and there he was by himself like some wild man. Well dear brother I could not go to him again after he had served me and mine as he had and I believe he was greatly in debt too so that he sold his share out of the property and when he received the money at Belper he went away and has never been seen by any of us since but I have heard of him being at Sheffield enquiring for Sam Caldwell. You will remember him. He worked in the Nag’s Head yard but I have heard nothing no more of him.”

                              A mention of a John Housley of Heanor in the Nottinghma Journal 1875.  I don’t know for sure if the John mentioned here is the brother John who Joseph describes above as behaving improperly to his wife. John Housley had a son Joseph, born in 1840, and John’s wife Sarah died in 1870.

                              John Housley

                               

                              In 1876, the solicitor wrote to George: “Have you heard of John Housley? He is entitled to Robert’s share and I want him to claim it.”

                               

                              SAMUEL HOUSLEY 1816-

                              Sam married Elizabeth Brookes of Sutton Coldfield, and they had three daughters: Elizabeth, Mary Anne and Catherine.  Elizabeth his wife died in 1849, a few months after Samuel’s father William died in 1848. The particular circumstances relating to these individuals have been discussed in previous chapters; the following are letter excerpts relating to them.

                              Death of William Housley 15 Dec 1848, and Elizabeth Housley 5 April 1849, Smalley:

                              Housley Deaths

                               

                              Joseph wrote in December 1872: “I saw one of Sam’s daughters, the youngest Kate, you would remember her a baby I dare say. She is very comfortably married.”

                              In the same letter (December 15, 1872), Joseph wrote:  “I think we have now found all out now that is concerned in the matter for there was only Sam that we did not know his whereabouts but I was informed a week ago that he is dead–died about three years ago in Birmingham Union. Poor Sam. He ought to have come to a better end than that….His daughter and her husband went to Brimingham and also to Sutton Coldfield that is where he married his wife from and found out his wife’s brother. It appears he has been there and at Birmingham ever since he went away but ever fond of drink.”

                              (Sam, however, was still alive in 1871, living as a lodger at the George and Dragon Inn, Henley in Arden. And no trace of Sam has been found since. It would appear that Sam did not want to be found.)

                               

                              EDWARD HOUSLEY 1819-1843

                              Edward died before George left for USA in 1851, and as such there is no mention of him in the letters.

                               

                              ANNE HOUSLEY 1821-1856

                              Anne wrote two letters to her brother George between February 1854 and her death in 1856. Apparently she suffered from a lung disease for she wrote: “I can say you will be surprised I am still living and better but still cough and spit a deal. Can do nothing but sit and sew.” According to the 1851 census, Anne, then 29, was a seamstress. Their friend, Mrs. Davy, wrote in March 1856: “This I send in a box to my Brother….The pincushion cover and pen wiper are Anne’s work–are for thy wife. She would have made it up had she been able.” Anne was not living at home at the time of the 1841 census. She would have been 19 or 20 and perhaps was “out service.”

                              In her second letter Anne wrote: “It is a great trouble now for me to write…as the body weakens so does the mind often. I have been very weak all summer. That I continue is a wonder to all and to spit so much although much better than when you left home.” She also wrote: “You know I had a desire for America years ago. Were I in health and strength, it would be the land of my adoption.”

                              In November 1855, Emma wrote, “Anne has been very ill all summer and has not been able to write or do anything.” Their neighbor Mrs. Davy wrote on March 21, 1856: “I fear Anne will not be long without a change.” In a black-edged letter the following June, Emma wrote: “I need not tell you how happy she was and how calmly and peacefully she died. She only kept in bed two days.”

                              Certainly Anne was a woman of deep faith and strong religious convictions. When she wrote that they were hoping to hear of Charles’ success on the gold fields she added: “But I would rather hear of him having sought and found the Pearl of great price than all the gold Australia can produce, (For what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his soul?).” Then she asked George: “I should like to learn how it was you were first led to seek pardon and a savior. I do feel truly rejoiced to hear you have been led to seek and find this Pearl through the workings of the Holy Spirit and I do pray that He who has begun this good work in each of us may fulfill it and carry it on even unto the end and I can never doubt the willingness of Jesus who laid down his life for us. He who said whoever that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.”

                              Anne’s will was probated October 14, 1856. Mr. William Davy of Kidsley Park appeared for the family. Her estate was valued at under £20. Emma was to receive fancy needlework, a four post bedstead, feather bed and bedding, a mahogany chest of drawers, plates, linen and china. Emma was also to receive Anne’s writing desk. There was a condition that Ellen would have use of these items until her death.

                              The money that Anne was to receive from her grandfather, William Carrington, and her father, William Housley was to be distributed one third to Joseph, one third to Emma, and one third to be divided between her four neices: John’s daughter Elizabeth, 18, and Sam’s daughters Elizabeth, 10, Mary Ann, 9 and Catharine, age 7 to be paid by the trustees as they think “most useful and proper.” Emma Lyon and Elizabeth Davy were the witnesses.

                              The Carrington Farm:

                              Carringtons Farm

                               

                              CHARLES HOUSLEY 1823-1855

                              Charles went to Australia in 1851, and was last heard from in January 1853. According to the solicitor, who wrote to George on June 3, 1874, Charles had received advances on the settlement of their parent’s estate. “Your promissory note with the two signed by your brother Charles for 20 pounds he received from his father and 20 pounds he received from his mother are now in the possession of the court.”

                              Charles and George were probably quite close friends. Anne wrote in 1854: “Charles inquired very particularly in both his letters after you.”

                              According to Anne, Charles and a friend married two sisters. He and his father-in-law had a farm where they had 130 cows and 60 pigs. Whatever the trade he learned in England, he never worked at it once he reached Australia. While it does not seem that Charles went to Australia because gold had been discovered there, he was soon caught up in “gold fever”. Anne wrote: “I dare say you have heard of the immense gold fields of Australia discovered about the time he went. Thousands have since then emigrated to Australia, both high and low. Such accounts we heard in the papers of people amassing fortunes we could not believe. I asked him when I wrote if it was true. He said this was no exaggeration for people were making their fortune daily and he intended going to the diggings in six weeks for he could stay away no longer so that we are hoping to hear of his success if he is alive.”

                              In March 1856, Mrs. Davy wrote: “I am sorry to tell thee they have had a letter from Charles’s wife giving account of Charles’s death of 6 months consumption at the Victoria diggings. He has left 2 children a boy and a girl William and Ellen.” In June of the same year in a black edged letter, Emma wrote: “I think Mrs. Davy mentioned Charles’s death in her note. His wife wrote to us. They have two children Helen and William. Poor dear little things. How much I should like to see them all. She writes very affectionately.”

                              In December 1872, Joseph wrote: “I’m told that Charles two daughters has wrote to Smalley post office making inquiries about his share….” In January 1876, the solicitor wrote: “Charles Housley’s children have claimed their father’s share.”

                               

                              GEORGE HOUSLEY 1824-1877

                              George emigrated to the United states in 1851, arriving in July. The solicitor Abraham John Flint referred in a letter to a 15-pound advance which was made to George on June 9, 1851. This certainly was connected to his journey. George settled along the Delaware River in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. The letters from the solicitor were addressed to: Lahaska Post Office, Bucks County, Pennsylvania.

                              George married Sarah Ann Hill on May 6, 1854 in Doylestown, Bucks County, Pennsylvania. In her first letter (February 1854), Anne wrote: “We want to know who and what is this Miss Hill you name in your letter. What age is she? Send us all the particulars but I would advise you not to get married until you have sufficient to make a comfortable home.”

                              Upon learning of George’s marriage, Anne wrote: “I hope dear brother you may be happy with your wife….I hope you will be as a son to her parents. Mother unites with me in kind love to you both and to your father and mother with best wishes for your health and happiness.” In 1872 (December) Joseph wrote: “I am sorry to hear that sister’s father is so ill. It is what we must all come to some time and hope we shall meet where there is no more trouble.”

                              Emma wrote in 1855, “We write in love to your wife and yourself and you must write soon and tell us whether there is a little nephew or niece and what you call them.” In June of 1856, Emma wrote: “We want to see dear Sarah Ann and the dear little boy. We were much pleased with the “bit of news” you sent.” The bit of news was the birth of John Eley Housley, January 11, 1855. Emma concluded her letter “Give our very kindest love to dear sister and dearest Johnnie.”

                              In September 1872, Joseph wrote, “I was very sorry to hear that John your oldest had met with such a sad accident but I hope he is got alright again by this time.” In the same letter, Joseph asked: “Now I want to know what sort of a town you are living in or village. How far is it from New York? Now send me all particulars if you please.”

                              In March 1873 Harriet asked Sarah Ann: “And will you please send me all the news at the place and what it is like for it seems to me that it is a wild place but you must tell me what it is like….”.  The question of whether she was referring to Bucks County, Pennsylvania or some other place is raised in Joseph’s letter of the same week.
                              On March 17, 1873, Joseph wrote: “I was surprised to hear that you had gone so far away west. Now dear brother what ever are you doing there so far away from home and family–looking out for something better I suppose.”

                              The solicitor wrote on May 23, 1874: “Lately I have not written because I was not certain of your address and because I doubted I had much interesting news to tell you.” Later, Joseph wrote concerning the problems settling the estate, “You see dear brother there is only me here on our side and I cannot do much. I wish you were here to help me a bit and if you think of going for another summer trip this turn you might as well run over here.”

                              Apparently, George had indicated he might return to England for a visit in 1856. Emma wrote concerning the portrait of their mother which had been sent to George: “I hope you like mother’s portrait. I did not see it but I suppose it was not quite perfect about the eyes….Joseph and I intend having ours taken for you when you come over….Do come over before very long.”

                              In March 1873, Joseph wrote: “You ask me what I think of you coming to England. I think as you have given the trustee power to sign for you I think you could do no good but I should like to see you once again for all that. I can’t say whether there would be anything amiss if you did come as you say it would be throwing good money after bad.”

                              On June 10, 1875, the solicitor wrote: “I have been expecting to hear from you for some time past. Please let me hear what you are doing and where you are living and how I must send you your money.” George’s big news at that time was that on May 3, 1875, he had become a naturalized citizen “renouncing and abjuring all allegiance and fidelity to every foreign prince, potentate, state and sovereignity whatsoever, and particularly to Victoria Queen of Great Britain of whom he was before a subject.”

                               

                              ROBERT HOUSLEY 1832-1851

                              In 1854, Anne wrote: “Poor Robert. He died in August after you left he broke a blood vessel in the lung.”
                              From Joseph’s first letter we learn that Robert was 19 when he died: “Dear brother there have been a great many changes in the family since you left us. All is gone except myself and John and Sam–we have heard nothing of him since he left. Robert died first when he was 19 years of age. Then Anne and Charles too died in Australia and then a number of years elapsed before anyone else. Then John lost his wife, then Emma, and last poor dear mother died last January on the 11th.”

                              Anne described Robert’s death in this way: “He had thrown up blood many times before in the spring but the last attack weakened him that he only lived a fortnight after. He died at Derby. Mother was with him. Although he suffered much he never uttered a murmur or regret and always a smile on his face for everyone that saw him. He will be regretted by all that knew him”.

                              Robert died a resident of St. Peter’s Parish, Derby, but was buried in Smalley on August 16, 1851.
                              Apparently Robert was apprenticed to be a joiner for, according to Anne, Joseph took his place: “Joseph wanted to be a joiner. We thought we could do no better than let him take Robert’s place which he did the October after and is there still.”

                              In 1876, the solicitor wrote to George: “Have you heard of John Housley? He is entitled to Robert’s share and I want him to claim it.”

                               

                              EMMA HOUSLEY 1836-1871

                              Emma was not mentioned in Anne’s first letter. In the second, Anne wrote that Emma was living at Spondon with two ladies in her “third situation,” and added, “She is grown a bouncing woman.” Anne described her sister well. Emma wrote in her first letter (November 12, 1855): “I must tell you that I am just 21 and we had my pudding last Sunday. I wish I could send you a piece.”

                              From Emma’s letters we learn that she was living in Derby from May until November 1855 with Mr. Haywood, an iron merchant. She explained, “He has failed and I have been obliged to leave,” adding, “I expect going to a new situation very soon. It is at Belper.” In 1851 records, William Haywood, age 22, was listed as an iron foundry worker. In the 1857 Derby Directory, James and George were listed as iron and brass founders and ironmongers with an address at 9 Market Place, Derby.

                              In June 1856, Emma wrote from “The Cedars, Ashbourne Road” where she was working for Mr. Handysides.
                              While she was working for Mr. Handysides, Emma wrote: “Mother is thinking of coming to live at Derby. That will be nice for Joseph and I.”

                              Friargate and Ashbourne Road were located in St. Werburgh’s Parish. (In fact, St. Werburgh’s vicarage was at 185 Surrey Street. This clue led to the discovery of the record of Emma’s marriage on May 6, 1858, to Edwin Welch Harvey, son of Samuel Harvey in St. Werburgh’s.)

                              In 1872, Joseph wrote: “Our sister Emma, she died at Derby at her own home for she was married. She has left two young children behind. The husband was the son of the man that I went apprentice to and has caused a great deal of trouble to our family and I believe hastened poor Mother’s death….”.   Joseph added that he believed Emma’s “complaint” was consumption and that she was sick a good bit. Joseph wrote: “Mother was living with John when I came home (from Ascension Island around 1867? or to Smalley from Derby around 1870?) for when Emma was married she broke up the comfortable home and the things went to Derby and she went to live with them but Derby did not agree with her so she had to leave it again but left all her things there.”

                              Emma Housley and Edwin Welch Harvey wedding, 1858:

                              Emma Housley wedding

                               

                              JOSEPH HOUSLEY 1838-1893

                              We first hear of Joseph in a letter from Anne to George in 1854. “Joseph wanted to be a joiner. We thought we could do no better than let him take Robert’s place which he did the October after (probably 1851) and is there still. He is grown as tall as you I think quite a man.” Emma concurred in her first letter: “He is quite a man in his appearance and quite as tall as you.”

                              From Emma we learn in 1855: “Joseph has left Mr. Harvey. He had not work to employ him. So mother thought he had better leave his indenture and be at liberty at once than wait for Harvey to be a bankrupt. He has got a very good place of work now and is very steady.” In June of 1856, Emma wrote “Joseph and I intend to have our portraits taken for you when you come over….Mother is thinking of coming to Derby. That will be nice for Joseph and I. Joseph is very hearty I am happy to say.”

                              According to Joseph’s letters, he was married to Harriet Ballard. Joseph described their miraculous reunion in this way: “I must tell you that I have been abroad myself to the Island of Ascension. (Elsewhere he wrote that he was on the island when the American civil war broke out). I went as a Royal Marine and worked at my trade and saved a bit of money–enough to buy my discharge and enough to get married with but while I was out on the island who should I meet with there but my dear wife’s sister. (On two occasions Joseph and Harriet sent George the name and address of Harriet’s sister, Mrs. Brooks, in Susquehanna Depot, Pennsylvania, but it is not clear whether this was the same sister.) She was lady’s maid to the captain’s wife. Though I had never seen her before we got to know each other somehow so from that me and my wife recommenced our correspondence and you may be sure I wanted to get home to her. But as soon as I did get home that is to England I was not long before I was married and I have not regretted yet for we are very comfortable as well as circumstances will allow for I am only a journeyman joiner.”

                              Proudly, Joseph wrote: “My little family consists of three nice children–John, Joseph and Susy Annie.” On her birth certificate, Susy Ann’s birthdate is listed as 1871. Parish records list a Lucy Annie christened in 1873. The boys were born in Derby, John in 1868 and Joseph in 1869. In his second letter, Joseph repeated: “I have got three nice children, a good wife and I often think is more than I have deserved.” On August 6, 1873, Joseph and Harriet wrote: “We both thank you dear sister for the pieces of money you sent for the children. I don’t know as I have ever see any before.” Joseph ended another letter: “Now I must close with our kindest love to you all and kisses from the children.”

                              In Harriet’s letter to Sarah Ann (March 19, 1873), she promised: “I will send you myself and as soon as the weather gets warm as I can take the children to Derby, I will have them taken and send them, but it is too cold yet for we have had a very cold winter and a great deal of rain.” At this time, the children were all under 6 and the baby was not yet two.

                              In March 1873 Joseph wrote: “I have been working down at Heanor gate there is a joiner shop there where Kings used to live I have been working there this winter and part of last summer but the wages is very low but it is near home that is one comfort.” (Heanor Gate is about 1/4 mile from Kidsley Grange. There was a school and industrial park there in 1988.) At this time Joseph and his family were living in “the big house–in Old Betty Hanson’s house.” The address in the 1871 census was Smalley Lane.

                              A glimpse into Joseph’s personality is revealed by this remark to George in an 1872 letter: “Many thanks for your portrait and will send ours when we can get them taken for I never had but one taken and that was in my old clothes and dear Harriet is not willing to part with that. I tell her she ought to be satisfied with the original.”

                              On one occasion Joseph and Harriet both sent seeds. (Marks are still visible on the paper.) Joseph sent “the best cow cabbage seed in the country–Robinson Champion,” and Harriet sent red cabbage–Shaw’s Improved Red. Possibly cow cabbage was also known as ox cabbage: “I hope you will have some good cabbages for the Ox cabbage takes all the prizes here. I suppose you will be taking the prizes out there with them.” Joseph wrote that he would put the name of the seeds by each “but I should think that will not matter. You will tell the difference when they come up.”

                              George apparently would have liked Joseph to come to him as early as 1854. Anne wrote: “As to his coming to you that must be left for the present.” In 1872, Joseph wrote: “I have been thinking of making a move from here for some time before I heard from you for it is living from hand to mouth and never certain of a job long either.” Joseph then made plans to come to the United States in the spring of 1873. “For I intend all being well leaving England in the spring. Many thanks for your kind offer but I hope we shall be able to get a comfortable place before we have been out long.” Joseph promised to bring some things George wanted and asked: “What sort of things would be the best to bring out there for I don’t want to bring a lot that is useless.” Joseph’s plans are confirmed in a letter from the solicitor May 23, 1874: “I trust you are prospering and in good health. Joseph seems desirous of coming out to you when this is settled.”

                              George must have been reminiscing about gooseberries (Heanor has an annual gooseberry show–one was held July 28, 1872) and Joseph promised to bring cuttings when they came: “Dear Brother, I could not get the gooseberries for they was all gathered when I received your letter but we shall be able to get some seed out the first chance and I shall try to bring some cuttings out along.” In the same letter that he sent the cabbage seeds Joseph wrote: “I have got some gooseberries drying this year for you. They are very fine ones but I have only four as yet but I was promised some more when they were ripe.” In another letter Joseph sent gooseberry seeds and wrote their names: Victoria, Gharibaldi and Globe.

                              In September 1872 Joseph wrote; “My wife is anxious to come. I hope it will suit her health for she is not over strong.” Elsewhere Joseph wrote that Harriet was “middling sometimes. She is subject to sick headaches. It knocks her up completely when they come on.” In December 1872 Joseph wrote, “Now dear brother about us coming to America you know we shall have to wait until this affair is settled and if it is not settled and thrown into Chancery I’m afraid we shall have to stay in England for I shall never be able to save money enough to bring me out and my family but I hope of better things.”

                              On July 19, 1875 Abraham Flint (the solicitor) wrote: “Joseph Housley has removed from Smalley and is working on some new foundry buildings at Little Chester near Derby. He lives at a village called Little Eaton near Derby. If you address your letter to him as Joseph Housley, carpenter, Little Eaton near Derby that will no doubt find him.”

                              George did not save any letters from Joseph after 1874, hopefully he did reach him at Little Eaton. Joseph and his family are not listed in either Little Eaton or Derby on the 1881 census.

                              In his last letter (February 11, 1874), Joseph sounded very discouraged and wrote that Harriet’s parents were very poorly and both had been “in bed for a long time.” In addition, Harriet and the children had been ill.
                              The move to Little Eaton may indicate that Joseph received his settlement because in August, 1873, he wrote: “I think this is bad news enough and bad luck too, but I have had little else since I came to live at Kiddsley cottages but perhaps it is all for the best if one could only think so. I have begun to think there will be no chance for us coming over to you for I am afraid there will not be so much left as will bring us out without it is settled very shortly but I don’t intend leaving this house until it is settled either one way or the other. “

                              Joseph Housley and the Kiddsley cottages:

                              Joseph Housley

                              #6268
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                From Tanganyika with Love

                                continued part 9

                                With thanks to Mike Rushby.

                                Lyamungu 3rd January 1945

                                Dearest Family.

                                We had a novel Christmas this year. We decided to avoid the expense of
                                entertaining and being entertained at Lyamungu, and went off to spend Christmas
                                camping in a forest on the Western slopes of Kilimanjaro. George decided to combine
                                business with pleasure and in this way we were able to use Government transport.
                                We set out the day before Christmas day and drove along the road which skirts
                                the slopes of Kilimanjaro and first visited a beautiful farm where Philip Teare, the ex
                                Game Warden, and his wife Mary are staying. We had afternoon tea with them and then
                                drove on in to the natural forest above the estate and pitched our tent beside a small
                                clear mountain stream. We decorated the tent with paper streamers and a few small
                                balloons and John found a small tree of the traditional shape which we decorated where
                                it stood with tinsel and small ornaments.

                                We put our beer, cool drinks for the children and bottles of fresh milk from Simba
                                Estate, in the stream and on Christmas morning they were as cold as if they had been in
                                the refrigerator all night. There were not many presents for the children, there never are,
                                but they do not seem to mind and are well satisfied with a couple of balloons apiece,
                                sweets, tin whistles and a book each.

                                George entertain the children before breakfast. He can make a magical thing out
                                of the most ordinary balloon. The children watched entranced as he drew on his pipe
                                and then blew the smoke into the balloon. He then pinched the neck of the balloon
                                between thumb and forefinger and released the smoke in little puffs. Occasionally the
                                balloon ejected a perfect smoke ring and the forest rang with shouts of “Do it again
                                Daddy.” Another trick was to blow up the balloon to maximum size and then twist the
                                neck tightly before releasing. Before subsiding the balloon darted about in a crazy
                                fashion causing great hilarity. Such fun, at the cost of a few pence.

                                After breakfast George went off to fish for trout. John and Jim decided that they
                                also wished to fish so we made rods out of sticks and string and bent pins and they
                                fished happily, but of course quite unsuccessfully, for hours. Both of course fell into the
                                stream and got soaked, but I was prepared for this, and the little stream was so shallow
                                that they could not come to any harm. Henry played happily in the sand and I had a
                                most peaceful morning.

                                Hamisi roasted a chicken in a pot over the camp fire and the jelly set beautifully in the
                                stream. So we had grilled trout and chicken for our Christmas dinner. I had of course
                                taken an iced cake for the occasion and, all in all, it was a very successful Christmas day.
                                On Boxing day we drove down to the plains where George was to investigate a
                                report of game poaching near the Ngassari Furrow. This is a very long ditch which has
                                been dug by the Government for watering the Masai stock in the area. It is also used by
                                game and we saw herds of zebra and wildebeest, and some Grant’s Gazelle and
                                giraffe, all comparatively tame. At one point a small herd of zebra raced beside the lorry
                                apparently enjoying the fun of a gallop. They were all sleek and fat and looked wild and
                                beautiful in action.

                                We camped a considerable distance from the water but this precaution did not
                                save us from the mosquitoes which launched a vicious attack on us after sunset, so that
                                we took to our beds unusually early. They were on the job again when we got up at
                                sunrise so I was very glad when we were once more on our way home.

                                “I like Christmas safari. Much nicer that silly old party,” said John. I agree but I think
                                it is time that our children learned to play happily with others. There are no other young
                                children at Lyamungu though there are two older boys and a girl who go to boarding
                                school in Nairobi.

                                On New Years Day two Army Officers from the military camp at Moshi, came for
                                tea and to talk game hunting with George. I think they rather enjoy visiting a home and
                                seeing children and pets around.

                                Eleanor.

                                Lyamungu 14 May 1945

                                Dearest Family.

                                So the war in Europe is over at last. It is such marvellous news that I can hardly
                                believe it. To think that as soon as George can get leave we will go to England and
                                bring Ann and George home with us to Tanganyika. When we know when this leave can
                                be arranged we will want Kate to join us here as of course she must go with us to
                                England to meet George’s family. She has become so much a part of your lives that I
                                know it will be a wrench for you to give her up but I know that you will all be happy to
                                think that soon our family will be reunited.

                                The V.E. celebrations passed off quietly here. We all went to Moshi to see the
                                Victory Parade of the King’s African Rifles and in the evening we went to a celebration
                                dinner at the Game Warden’s house. Besides ourselves the Moores had invited the
                                Commanding Officer from Moshi and a junior officer. We had a very good dinner and
                                many toasts including one to Mrs Moore’s brother, Oliver Milton who is fighting in Burma
                                and has recently been awarded the Military Cross.

                                There was also a celebration party for the children in the grounds of the Moshi
                                Club. Such a spread! I think John and Jim sampled everything. We mothers were
                                having our tea separately and a friend laughingly told me to turn around and have a look.
                                I did, and saw the long tea tables now deserted by all the children but my two sons who
                                were still eating steadily, and finding the party more exciting than the game of Musical
                                Bumps into which all the other children had entered with enthusiasm.

                                There was also an extremely good puppet show put on by the Italian prisoners
                                of war from the camp at Moshi. They had made all the puppets which included well
                                loved characters like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and the Babes in the Wood as
                                well as more sophisticated ones like an irritable pianist and a would be prima donna. The
                                most popular puppets with the children were a native askari and his family – a very
                                happy little scene. I have never before seen a puppet show and was as entranced as
                                the children. It is amazing what clever manipulation and lighting can do. I believe that the
                                Italians mean to take their puppets to Nairobi and am glad to think that there, they will
                                have larger audiences to appreciate their art.

                                George has just come in, and I paused in my writing to ask him for the hundredth
                                time when he thinks we will get leave. He says I must be patient because it may be a
                                year before our turn comes. Shipping will be disorganised for months to come and we
                                cannot expect priority simply because we have been separated so long from our
                                children. The same situation applies to scores of other Government Officials.
                                I have decided to write the story of my childhood in South Africa and about our
                                life together in Tanganyika up to the time Ann and George left the country. I know you
                                will have told Kate these stories, but Ann and George were so very little when they left
                                home that I fear that they cannot remember much.

                                My Mother-in-law will have told them about their father but she can tell them little
                                about me. I shall send them one chapter of my story each month in the hope that they
                                may be interested and not feel that I am a stranger when at last we meet again.

                                Eleanor.

                                Lyamungu 19th September 1945

                                Dearest Family.

                                In a months time we will be saying good-bye to Lyamungu. George is to be
                                transferred to Mbeya and I am delighted, not only as I look upon Mbeya as home, but
                                because there is now a primary school there which John can attend. I feel he will make
                                much better progress in his lessons when he realises that all children of his age attend
                                school. At present he is putting up a strong resistance to learning to read and spell, but
                                he writes very neatly, does his sums accurately and shows a real talent for drawing. If
                                only he had the will to learn I feel he would do very well.

                                Jim now just four, is too young for lessons but too intelligent to be interested in
                                the ayah’s attempts at entertainment. Yes I’ve had to engage a native girl to look after
                                Henry from 9 am to 12.30 when I supervise John’s Correspondence Course. She is
                                clean and amiable, but like most African women she has no initiative at all when it comes
                                to entertaining children. Most African men and youths are good at this.

                                I don’t regret our stay at Lyamungu. It is a beautiful spot and the change to the
                                cooler climate after the heat of Morogoro has been good for all the children. John is still
                                tall for his age but not so thin as he was and much less pale. He is a handsome little lad
                                with his large brown eyes in striking contrast to his fair hair. He is wary of strangers but
                                very observant and quite uncanny in the way he sums up people. He seldom gets up
                                to mischief but I have a feeling he eggs Jim on. Not that Jim needs egging.

                                Jim has an absolute flair for mischief but it is all done in such an artless manner that
                                it is not easy to punish him. He is a very sturdy child with a cap of almost black silky hair,
                                eyes brown, like mine, and a large mouth which is quick to smile and show most beautiful
                                white and even teeth. He is most popular with all the native servants and the Game
                                Scouts. The servants call Jim, ‘Bwana Tembo’ (Mr Elephant) because of his sturdy
                                build.

                                Henry, now nearly two years old, is quite different from the other two in
                                appearance. He is fair complexioned and fair haired like Ann and Kate, with large, black
                                lashed, light grey eyes. He is a good child, not so merry as Jim was at his age, nor as
                                shy as John was. He seldom cries, does not care to be cuddled and is independent and
                                strong willed. The servants call Henry, ‘Bwana Ndizi’ (Mr Banana) because he has an
                                inexhaustible appetite for this fruit. Fortunately they are very inexpensive here. We buy
                                an entire bunch which hangs from a beam on the back verandah, and pluck off the
                                bananas as they ripen. This way there is no waste and the fruit never gets bruised as it
                                does in greengrocers shops in South Africa. Our three boys make a delightful and
                                interesting trio and I do wish you could see them for yourselves.

                                We are delighted with the really beautiful photograph of Kate. She is an
                                extraordinarily pretty child and looks so happy and healthy and a great credit to you.
                                Now that we will be living in Mbeya with a school on the doorstep I hope that we will
                                soon be able to arrange for her return home.

                                Eleanor.

                                c/o Game Dept. Mbeya. 30th October 1945

                                Dearest Family.

                                How nice to be able to write c/o Game Dept. Mbeya at the head of my letters.
                                We arrived here safely after a rather tiresome journey and are installed in a tiny house on
                                the edge of the township.

                                We left Lyamungu early on the morning of the 22nd. Most of our goods had
                                been packed on the big Ford lorry the previous evening, but there were the usual
                                delays and farewells. Of our servants, only the cook, Hamisi, accompanied us to
                                Mbeya. Japhet, Tovelo and the ayah had to be paid off and largesse handed out.
                                Tovelo’s granny had come, bringing a gift of bananas, and she also brought her little
                                granddaughter to present a bunch of flowers. The child’s little scolded behind is now
                                completely healed. Gifts had to be found for them too.

                                At last we were all aboard and what a squash it was! Our few pieces of furniture
                                and packing cases and trunks, the cook, his wife, the driver and the turney boy, who
                                were to take the truck back to Lyamungu, and all their bits and pieces, bunches of
                                bananas and Fanny the dog were all crammed into the body of the lorry. George, the
                                children and I were jammed together in the cab. Before we left George looked
                                dubiously at the tyres which were very worn and said gloomily that he thought it most
                                unlikely that we would make our destination, Dodoma.

                                Too true! Shortly after midday, near Kwakachinja, we blew a back tyre and there
                                was a tedious delay in the heat whilst the wheel was changed. We were now without a
                                spare tyre and George said that he would not risk taking the Ford further than Babati,
                                which is less than half way to Dodoma. He drove very slowly and cautiously to Babati
                                where he arranged with Sher Mohammed, an Indian trader, for a lorry to take us to
                                Dodoma the next morning.

                                It had been our intention to spend the night at the furnished Government
                                Resthouse at Babati but when we got there we found that it was already occupied by
                                several District Officers who had assembled for a conference. So, feeling rather
                                disgruntled, we all piled back into the lorry and drove on to a place called Bereku where
                                we spent an uncomfortable night in a tumbledown hut.

                                Before dawn next morning Sher Mohammed’s lorry drove up, and there was a
                                scramble to dress by the light of a storm lamp. The lorry was a very dilapidated one and
                                there was already a native woman passenger in the cab. I felt so tired after an almost
                                sleepless night that I decided to sit between the driver and this woman with the sleeping
                                Henry on my knee. It was as well I did, because I soon found myself dosing off and
                                drooping over towards the woman. Had she not been there I might easily have fallen
                                out as the battered cab had no door. However I was alert enough when daylight came
                                and changed places with the woman to our mutual relief. She was now able to converse
                                with the African driver and I was able to enjoy the scenery and the fresh air!
                                George, John and Jim were less comfortable. They sat in the lorry behind the
                                cab hemmed in by packing cases. As the lorry was an open one the sun beat down
                                unmercifully upon them until George, ever resourceful, moved a table to the front of the
                                truck. The two boys crouched under this and so got shelter from the sun but they still had
                                to endure the dust. Fanny complicated things by getting car sick and with one thing and
                                another we were all jolly glad to get to Dodoma.

                                We spent the night at the Dodoma Hotel and after hot baths, a good meal and a
                                good nights rest we cheerfully boarded a bus of the Tanganyika Bus Service next
                                morning to continue our journey to Mbeya. The rest of the journey was uneventful. We slept two nights on the road, the first at Iringa Hotel and the second at Chimala. We
                                reached Mbeya on the 27th.

                                I was rather taken aback when I first saw the little house which has been allocated
                                to us. I had become accustomed to the spacious houses we had in Morogoro and
                                Lyamungu. However though the house is tiny it is secluded and has a long garden
                                sloping down to the road in front and another long strip sloping up behind. The front
                                garden is shaded by several large cypress and eucalyptus trees but the garden behind
                                the house has no shade and consists mainly of humpy beds planted with hundreds of
                                carnations sadly in need of debudding. I believe that the previous Game Ranger’s wife
                                cultivated the carnations and, by selling them, raised money for War Funds.
                                Like our own first home, this little house is built of sun dried brick. Its original
                                owners were Germans. It is now rented to the Government by the Custodian of Enemy
                                Property, and George has his office in another ex German house.

                                This afternoon we drove to the school to arrange about enrolling John there. The
                                school is about four miles out of town. It was built by the German settlers in the late
                                1930’s and they were justifiably proud of it. It consists of a great assembly hall and
                                classrooms in one block and there are several attractive single storied dormitories. This
                                school was taken over by the Government when the Germans were interned on the
                                outbreak of war and many improvements have been made to the original buildings. The
                                school certainly looks very attractive now with its grassed playing fields and its lawns and
                                bright flower beds.

                                The Union Jack flies from a tall flagpole in front of the Hall and all traces of the
                                schools German origin have been firmly erased. We met the Headmaster, Mr
                                Wallington, and his wife and some members of the staff. The school is co-educational
                                and caters for children from the age of seven to standard six. The leaving age is elastic
                                owing to the fact that many Tanganyika children started school very late because of lack
                                of educational facilities in this country.

                                The married members of the staff have their own cottages in the grounds. The
                                Matrons have quarters attached to the dormitories for which they are responsible. I felt
                                most enthusiastic about the school until I discovered that the Headmaster is adamant
                                upon one subject. He utterly refuses to take any day pupils at the school. So now our
                                poor reserved Johnny will have to adjust himself to boarding school life.
                                We have arranged that he will start school on November 5th and I shall be very
                                busy trying to assemble his school uniform at short notice. The clothing list is sensible.
                                Boys wear khaki shirts and shorts on weekdays with knitted scarlet jerseys when the
                                weather is cold. On Sundays they wear grey flannel shorts and blazers with the silver
                                and scarlet school tie.

                                Mbeya looks dusty, brown and dry after the lush evergreen vegetation of
                                Lyamungu, but I prefer this drier climate and there are still mountains to please the eye.
                                In fact the lower slopes of Lolesa Mountain rise at the upper end of our garden.

                                Eleanor.

                                c/o Game Dept. Mbeya. 21st November 1945

                                Dearest Family.

                                We’re quite settled in now and I have got the little house fixed up to my
                                satisfaction. I have engaged a rather uncouth looking houseboy but he is strong and
                                capable and now that I am not tied down in the mornings by John’s lessons I am able to
                                go out occasionally in the mornings and take Jim and Henry to play with other children.
                                They do not show any great enthusiasm but are not shy by nature as John is.
                                I have had a good deal of heartache over putting John to boarding school. It
                                would have been different had he been used to the company of children outside his
                                own family, or if he had even known one child there. However he seems to be adjusting
                                himself to the life, though slowly. At least he looks well and tidy and I am quite sure that
                                he is well looked after.

                                I must confess that when the time came for John to go to school I simply did not
                                have the courage to take him and he went alone with George, looking so smart in his
                                new uniform – but his little face so bleak. The next day, Sunday, was visiting day but the
                                Headmaster suggested that we should give John time to settle down and not visit him
                                until Wednesday.

                                When we drove up to the school I spied John on the far side of the field walking
                                all alone. Instead of running up with glad greetings, as I had expected, he came almost
                                reluctently and had little to say. I asked him to show me his dormitory and classroom and
                                he did so politely as though I were a stranger. At last he volunteered some information.
                                “Mummy,” he said in an awed voice, Do you know on the night I came here they burnt a
                                man! They had a big fire and they burnt him.” After a blank moment the penny dropped.
                                Of course John had started school and November the fifth but it had never entered my
                                head to tell him about that infamous character, Guy Fawkes!

                                I asked John’s Matron how he had settled down. “Well”, she said thoughtfully,
                                “John is very good and has not cried as many of the juniors do when they first come
                                here, but he seems to keep to himself all the time.” I went home very discouraged but
                                on the Sunday John came running up with another lad of about his own age.” This is my
                                friend Marks,” he announced proudly. I could have hugged Marks.

                                Mbeya is very different from the small settlement we knew in the early 1930’s.
                                Gone are all the colourful characters from the Lupa diggings for the alluvial claims are all
                                worked out now, gone also are our old friends the Menzies from the Pub and also most
                                of the Government Officials we used to know. Mbeya has lost its character of a frontier
                                township and has become almost suburban.

                                The social life revolves around two places, the Club and the school. The Club
                                which started out as a little two roomed building, has been expanded and the golf
                                course improved. There are also tennis courts and a good library considering the size of
                                the community. There are frequent parties and dances, though most of the club revenue
                                comes from Bar profits. The parties are relatively sober affairs compared with the parties
                                of the 1930’s.

                                The school provides entertainment of another kind. Both Mr and Mrs Wallington
                                are good amateur actors and I am told that they run an Amateur Dramatic Society. Every
                                Wednesday afternoon there is a hockey match at the school. Mbeya town versus a
                                mixed team of staff and scholars. The match attracts almost the whole European
                                population of Mbeya. Some go to play hockey, others to watch, and others to snatch
                                the opportunity to visit their children. I shall have to try to arrange a lift to school when
                                George is away on safari.

                                I have now met most of the local women and gladly renewed an old friendship
                                with Sheilagh Waring whom I knew two years ago at Morogoro. Sheilagh and I have
                                much in common, the same disregard for the trappings of civilisation, the same sense of
                                the ludicrous, and children. She has eight to our six and she has also been cut off by the
                                war from two of her children. Sheilagh looks too young and pretty to be the mother of so
                                large a family and is, in fact, several years younger than I am. her husband, Donald, is a
                                large quiet man who, as far as I can judge takes life seriously.

                                Our next door neighbours are the Bank Manager and his wife, a very pleasant
                                couple though we seldom meet. I have however had correspondence with the Bank
                                Manager. Early on Saturday afternoon their houseboy brought a note. It informed me
                                that my son was disturbing his rest by precipitating a heart attack. Was I aware that my
                                son was about 30 feet up in a tree and balanced on a twig? I ran out and,sure enough,
                                there was Jim, right at the top of the tallest eucalyptus tree. It would be the one with the
                                mound of stones at the bottom! You should have heard me fluting in my most
                                wheedling voice. “Sweets, Jimmy, come down slowly dear, I’ve some nice sweets for
                                you.”

                                I’ll bet that little story makes you smile. I remember how often you have told me
                                how, as a child, I used to make your hearts turn over because I had no fear of heights
                                and how I used to say, “But that is silly, I won’t fall.” I know now only too well, how you
                                must have felt.

                                Eleanor.

                                c/o Game Dept. Mbeya. 14th January 1946

                                Dearest Family.

                                I hope that by now you have my telegram to say that Kate got home safely
                                yesterday. It was wonderful to have her back and what a beautiful child she is! Kate
                                seems to have enjoyed the train journey with Miss Craig, in spite of the tears she tells
                                me she shed when she said good-bye to you. She also seems to have felt quite at
                                home with the Hopleys at Salisbury. She flew from Salisbury in a small Dove aircraft
                                and they had a smooth passage though Kate was a little airsick.

                                I was so excited about her home coming! This house is so tiny that I had to turn
                                out the little store room to make a bedroom for her. With a fresh coat of whitewash and
                                pretty sprigged curtains and matching bedspread, borrowed from Sheilagh Waring, the
                                tiny room looks most attractive. I had also iced a cake, made ice-cream and jelly and
                                bought crackers for the table so that Kate’s home coming tea could be a proper little
                                celebration.

                                I was pleased with my preparations and then, a few hours before the plane was
                                due, my crowned front tooth dropped out, peg and all! When my houseboy wants to
                                describe something very tatty, he calls it “Second-hand Kabisa.” Kabisa meaning
                                absolutely. That is an apt description of how I looked and felt. I decided to try some
                                emergency dentistry. I think you know our nearest dentist is at Dar es Salaam five
                                hundred miles away.

                                First I carefully dried the tooth and with a match stick covered the peg and base
                                with Durofix. I then took the infants rubber bulb enema, sucked up some heat from a
                                candle flame and pumped it into the cavity before filling that with Durofix. Then hopefully
                                I stuck the tooth in its former position and held it in place for several minutes. No good. I
                                sent the houseboy to a shop for Scotine and tried the whole process again. No good
                                either.

                                When George came home for lunch I appealed to him for advice. He jokingly
                                suggested that a maize seed jammed into the space would probably work, but when
                                he saw that I really was upset he produced some chewing gum and suggested that I
                                should try that . I did and that worked long enough for my first smile anyway.
                                George and the three boys went to meet Kate but I remained at home to
                                welcome her there. I was afraid that after all this time away Kate might be reluctant to
                                rejoin the family but she threw her arms around me and said “Oh Mummy,” We both
                                shed a few tears and then we both felt fine.

                                How gay Kate is, and what an infectious laugh she has! The boys follow her
                                around in admiration. John in fact asked me, “Is Kate a Princess?” When I said
                                “Goodness no, Johnny, she’s your sister,” he explained himself by saying, “Well, she
                                has such golden hair.” Kate was less complementary. When I tucked her in bed last night
                                she said, “Mummy, I didn’t expect my little brothers to be so yellow!” All three boys
                                have been taking a course of Atebrin, an anti-malarial drug which tinges skin and eyeballs
                                yellow.

                                So now our tiny house is bursting at its seams and how good it feels to have one
                                more child under our roof. We are booked to sail for England in May and when we return
                                we will have Ann and George home too. Then I shall feel really content.

                                Eleanor.

                                c/o Game Dept. Mbeya. 2nd March 1946

                                Dearest Family.

                                My life just now is uneventful but very busy. I am sewing hard and knitting fast to
                                try to get together some warm clothes for our leave in England. This is not a simple
                                matter because woollen materials are in short supply and very expensive, and now that
                                we have boarding school fees to pay for both Kate and John we have to budget very
                                carefully indeed.

                                Kate seems happy at school. She makes friends easily and seems to enjoy
                                communal life. John also seems reconciled to school now that Kate is there. He no
                                longer feels that he is the only exile in the family. He seems to rub along with the other
                                boys of his age and has a couple of close friends. Although Mbeya School is coeducational
                                the smaller boys and girls keep strictly apart. It is considered extremely
                                cissy to play with girls.

                                The local children are allowed to go home on Sundays after church and may bring
                                friends home with them for the day. Both John and Kate do this and Sunday is a very
                                busy day for me. The children come home in their Sunday best but bring play clothes to
                                change into. There is always a scramble to get them to bath and change again in time to
                                deliver them to the school by 6 o’clock.

                                When George is home we go out to the school for the morning service. This is
                                taken by the Headmaster Mr Wallington, and is very enjoyable. There is an excellent
                                school choir to lead the singing. The service is the Church of England one, but is
                                attended by children of all denominations, except the Roman Catholics. I don’t think that
                                more than half the children are British. A large proportion are Greeks, some as old as
                                sixteen, and about the same number are Afrikaners. There are Poles and non-Nazi
                                Germans, Swiss and a few American children.

                                All instruction is through the medium of English and it is amazing how soon all the
                                foreign children learn to chatter in English. George has been told that we will return to
                                Mbeya after our leave and for that I am very thankful as it means that we will still be living
                                near at hand when Jim and Henry start school. Because many of these children have to
                                travel many hundreds of miles to come to school, – Mbeya is a two day journey from the
                                railhead, – the school year is divided into two instead of the usual three terms. This
                                means that many of these children do not see their parents for months at a time. I think
                                this is a very sad state of affairs especially for the seven and eight year olds but the
                                Matrons assure me , that many children who live on isolated farms and stations are quite
                                reluctant to go home because they miss the companionship and the games and
                                entertainment that the school offers.

                                My only complaint about the life here is that I see far too little of George. He is
                                kept extremely busy on this range and is hardly at home except for a few days at the
                                months end when he has to be at his office to check up on the pay vouchers and the
                                issue of ammunition to the Scouts. George’s Range takes in the whole of the Southern
                                Province and the Southern half of the Western Province and extends to the border with
                                Northern Rhodesia and right across to Lake Tanganyika. This vast area is patrolled by
                                only 40 Game Scouts because the Department is at present badly under staffed, due
                                partly to the still acute shortage of rifles, but even more so to the extraordinary reluctance
                                which the Government shows to allocate adequate funds for the efficient running of the
                                Department.

                                The Game Scouts must see that the Game Laws are enforced, protect native
                                crops from raiding elephant, hippo and other game animals. Report disease amongst game and deal with stock raiding lions. By constantly going on safari and checking on
                                their work, George makes sure the range is run to his satisfaction. Most of the Game
                                Scouts are fine fellows but, considering they receive only meagre pay for dangerous
                                and exacting work, it is not surprising that occasionally a Scout is tempted into accepting
                                a bribe not to report a serious infringement of the Game Laws and there is, of course,
                                always the temptation to sell ivory illicitly to unscrupulous Indian and Arab traders.
                                Apart from supervising the running of the Range, George has two major jobs.
                                One is to supervise the running of the Game Free Area along the Rhodesia –
                                Tanganyika border, and the other to hunt down the man-eating lions which for years have
                                terrorised the Njombe District killing hundreds of Africans. Yes I know ‘hundreds’ sounds
                                fantastic, but this is perfectly true and one day, when the job is done and the official
                                report published I shall send it to you to prove it!

                                I hate to think of the Game Free Area and so does George. All the game from
                                buffalo to tiny duiker has been shot out in a wide belt extending nearly two hundred
                                miles along the Northern Rhodesia -Tanganyika border. There are three Europeans in
                                widely spaced camps who supervise this slaughter by African Game Guards. This
                                horrible measure is considered necessary by the Veterinary Departments of
                                Tanganyika, Rhodesia and South Africa, to prevent the cattle disease of Rinderpest
                                from spreading South.

                                When George is home however, we do relax and have fun. On the Saturday
                                before the school term started we took Kate and the boys up to the top fishing camp in
                                the Mporoto Mountains for her first attempt at trout fishing. There are three of these
                                camps built by the Mbeya Trout Association on the rivers which were first stocked with
                                the trout hatched on our farm at Mchewe. Of the three, the top camp is our favourite. The
                                scenery there is most glorious and reminds me strongly of the rivers of the Western
                                Cape which I so loved in my childhood.

                                The river, the Kawira, flows from the Rungwe Mountain through a narrow valley
                                with hills rising steeply on either side. The water runs swiftly over smooth stones and
                                sometimes only a foot or two below the level of the banks. It is sparkling and shallow,
                                but in places the water is deep and dark and the banks high. I had a busy day keeping
                                an eye on the boys, especially Jim, who twice climbed out on branches which overhung
                                deep water. “Mummy, I was only looking for trout!”

                                How those kids enjoyed the freedom of the camp after the comparative
                                restrictions of town. So did Fanny, she raced about on the hills like a mad dog chasing
                                imaginary rabbits and having the time of her life. To escape the noise and commotion
                                George had gone far upstream to fish and returned in the late afternoon with three good
                                sized trout and four smaller ones. Kate proudly showed George the two she had caught
                                with the assistance or our cook Hamisi. I fear they were caught in a rather unorthodox
                                manner but this I kept a secret from George who is a stickler for the orthodox in trout
                                fishing.

                                Eleanor.

                                Jacksdale England 24th June 1946

                                Dearest Family.

                                Here we are all together at last in England. You cannot imagine how wonderful it
                                feels to have the whole Rushby family reunited. I find myself counting heads. Ann,
                                George, Kate, John, Jim, and Henry. All present and well. We had a very pleasant trip
                                on the old British India Ship Mantola. She was crowded with East Africans going home
                                for the first time since the war, many like us, eagerly looking forward to a reunion with their
                                children whom they had not seen for years. There was a great air of anticipation and
                                good humour but a little anxiety too.

                                “I do hope our children will be glad to see us,” said one, and went on to tell me
                                about a Doctor from Dar es Salaam who, after years of separation from his son had
                                recently gone to visit him at his school. The Doctor had alighted at the railway station
                                where he had arranged to meet his son. A tall youth approached him and said, very
                                politely, “Excuse me sir. Are you my Father?” Others told me of children who had
                                become so attached to their relatives in England that they gave their parents a very cool
                                reception. I began to feel apprehensive about Ann and George but fortunately had no
                                time to mope.

                                Oh, that washing and ironing for six! I shall remember for ever that steamy little
                                laundry in the heat of the Red Sea and queuing up for the ironing and the feeling of guilt
                                at the size of my bundle. We met many old friends amongst the passengers, and made
                                some new ones, so the voyage was a pleasant one, We did however have our
                                anxious moments.

                                John was the first to disappear and we had an anxious search for him. He was
                                quite surprised that we had been concerned. “I was just talking to my friend Chinky
                                Chinaman in his workshop.” Could John have called him that? Then, when I returned to
                                the cabin from dinner one night I found Henry swigging Owbridge’s Lung Tonic. He had
                                drunk half the bottle neat and the label said ‘five drops in water’. Luckily it did not harm
                                him.

                                Jim of course was forever risking his neck. George had forbidden him to climb on
                                the railings but he was forever doing things which no one had thought of forbidding him
                                to do, like hanging from the overhead pipes on the deck or standing on the sill of a
                                window and looking down at the well deck far below. An Officer found him doing this and
                                gave me the scolding.

                                Another day he climbed up on a derrick used for hoisting cargo. George,
                                oblivious to this was sitting on the hatch cover with other passengers reading a book. I
                                was in the wash house aft on the same deck when Kate rushed in and said, “Mummy
                                come and see Jim.” Before I had time to more than gape, the butcher noticed Jim and
                                rushed out knife in hand. “Get down from there”, he bellowed. Jim got, and with such
                                speed that he caught the leg or his shorts on a projecting piece of metal. The cotton
                                ripped across the seam from leg to leg and Jim stood there for a humiliating moment in a
                                sort of revealing little kilt enduring the smiles of the passengers who had looked up from
                                their books at the butcher’s shout.

                                That incident cured Jim of his urge to climb on the ship but he managed to give
                                us one more fright. He was lost off Dover. People from whom we enquired said, “Yes
                                we saw your little boy. He was by the railings watching that big aircraft carrier.” Now Jim,
                                though mischievous , is very obedient. It was not until George and I had conducted an
                                exhaustive search above and below decks that I really became anxious. Could he have
                                fallen overboard? Jim was returned to us by an unamused Officer. He had been found
                                in one of the lifeboats on the deck forbidden to children.

                                Our ship passed Dover after dark and it was an unforgettable sight. Dover Castle
                                and the cliffs were floodlit for the Victory Celebrations. One of the men passengers sat
                                down at the piano and played ‘The White Cliffs of Dover’, and people sang and a few
                                wept. The Mantola docked at Tilbury early next morning in a steady drizzle.
                                There was a dockers strike on and it took literally hours for all the luggage to be
                                put ashore. The ships stewards simply locked the public rooms and went off leaving the
                                passengers shivering on the docks. Eventually damp and bedraggled, we arrived at St
                                Pancras Station and were given a warm welcome by George’s sister Cath and her
                                husband Reg Pears, who had come all the way from Nottingham to meet us.
                                As we had to spend an hour in London before our train left for Nottingham,
                                George suggested that Cath and I should take the children somewhere for a meal. So
                                off we set in the cold drizzle, the boys and I without coats and laden with sundry
                                packages, including a hand woven native basket full of shoes. We must have looked like
                                a bunch of refugees as we stood in the hall of The Kings Cross Station Hotel because a
                                supercilious waiter in tails looked us up and down and said, “I’m afraid not Madam”, in
                                answer to my enquiry whether the hotel could provide lunch for six.
                                Anyway who cares! We had lunch instead at an ABC tea room — horrible
                                sausage and a mound or rather sloppy mashed potatoes, but very good ice-cream.
                                After the train journey in a very grimy third class coach, through an incredibly green and
                                beautiful countryside, we eventually reached Nottingham and took a bus to Jacksdale,
                                where George’s mother and sisters live in large detached houses side by side.
                                Ann and George were at the bus stop waiting for us, and thank God, submitted
                                to my kiss as though we had been parted for weeks instead of eight years. Even now
                                that we are together again my heart aches to think of all those missed years. They have
                                not changed much and I would have picked them out of a crowd, but Ann, once thin and
                                pale, is now very rosy and blooming. She still has her pretty soft plaits and her eyes are
                                still a clear calm blue. Young George is very striking looking with sparkling brown eyes, a
                                ready, slightly lopsided smile, and charming manners.

                                Mother, and George’s elder sister, Lottie Giles, welcomed us at the door with the
                                cheering news that our tea was ready. Ann showed us the way to mother’s lovely lilac
                                tiled bathroom for a wash before tea. Before I had even turned the tap, Jim had hung
                                form the glass towel rail and it lay in three pieces on the floor. There have since been
                                similar tragedies. I can see that life in civilisation is not without snags.

                                I am most grateful that Ann and George have accepted us so naturally and
                                affectionately. Ann said candidly, “Mummy, it’s a good thing that you had Aunt Cath with
                                you when you arrived because, honestly, I wouldn’t have known you.”

                                Eleanor.

                                Jacksdale England 28th August 1946

                                Dearest Family.

                                I am sorry that I have not written for some time but honestly, I don’t know whether
                                I’m coming or going. Mother handed the top floor of her house to us and the
                                arrangement was that I should tidy our rooms and do our laundry and Mother would
                                prepare the meals except for breakfast. It looked easy at first. All the rooms have wall to
                                wall carpeting and there was a large vacuum cleaner in the box room. I was told a
                                window cleaner would do the windows.

                                Well the first time I used the Hoover I nearly died of fright. I pressed the switch
                                and immediately there was a roar and the bag filled with air to bursting point, or so I
                                thought. I screamed for Ann and she came at the run. I pointed to the bag and shouted
                                above the din, “What must I do? It’s going to burst!” Ann looked at me in astonishment
                                and said, “But Mummy that’s the way it works.” I couldn’t have her thinking me a
                                complete fool so I switched the current off and explained to Ann how it was that I had
                                never seen this type of equipment in action. How, in Tanganyika , I had never had a
                                house with electricity and that, anyway, electric equipment would be superfluous
                                because floors are of cement which the houseboy polishes by hand, one only has a
                                few rugs or grass mats on the floor. “But what about Granny’s house in South Africa?’”
                                she asked, so I explained about your Josephine who threatened to leave if you
                                bought a Hoover because that would mean that you did not think she kept the house
                                clean. The sad fact remains that, at fourteen, Ann knows far more about housework than I
                                do, or rather did! I’m learning fast.

                                The older children all go to school at different times in the morning. Ann leaves first
                                by bus to go to her Grammar School at Sutton-in-Ashfield. Shortly afterwards George
                                catches a bus for Nottingham where he attends the High School. So they have
                                breakfast in relays, usually scrambled egg made from a revolting dried egg mixture.
                                Then there are beds to make and washing and ironing to do, so I have little time for
                                sightseeing, though on a few afternoons George has looked after the younger children
                                and I have gone on bus tours in Derbyshire. Life is difficult here with all the restrictions on
                                foodstuffs. We all have ration books so get our fair share but meat, fats and eggs are
                                scarce and expensive. The weather is very wet. At first I used to hang out the washing
                                and then rush to bring it in when a shower came. Now I just let it hang.

                                We have left our imprint upon my Mother-in-law’s house for ever. Henry upset a
                                bottle of Milk of Magnesia in the middle of the pale fawn bedroom carpet. John, trying to
                                be helpful and doing some dusting, broke one of the delicate Dresden china candlesticks
                                which adorn our bedroom mantelpiece.Jim and Henry have wrecked the once
                                professionally landscaped garden and all the boys together bored a large hole through
                                Mother’s prized cherry tree. So now Mother has given up and gone off to Bournemouth
                                for a much needed holiday. Once a week I have the capable help of a cleaning woman,
                                called for some reason, ‘Mrs Two’, but I have now got all the cooking to do for eight. Mrs
                                Two is a godsend. She wears, of all things, a print mob cap with a hole in it. Says it
                                belonged to her Grandmother. Her price is far beyond Rubies to me, not so much
                                because she does, in a couple of hours, what it takes me all day to do, but because she
                                sells me boxes of fifty cigarettes. Some non-smoking relative, who works in Players
                                tobacco factory, passes on his ration to her. Until Mrs Two came to my rescue I had
                                been starved of cigarettes. Each time I asked for them at the shop the grocer would say,
                                “Are you registered with us?” Only very rarely would some kindly soul sell me a little
                                packet of five Woodbines.

                                England is very beautiful but the sooner we go home to Tanganyika, the better.
                                On this, George and I and the children agree.

                                Eleanor.

                                Jacksdale England 20th September 1946

                                Dearest Family.

                                Our return passages have now been booked on the Winchester Castle and we
                                sail from Southampton on October the sixth. I look forward to returning to Tanganyika but
                                hope to visit England again in a few years time when our children are older and when
                                rationing is a thing of the past.

                                I have grown fond of my Sisters-in-law and admire my Mother-in-law very much.
                                She has a great sense of humour and has entertained me with stories of her very
                                eventful life, and told me lots of little stories of the children which did not figure in her
                                letters. One which amused me was about young George. During one of the air raids
                                early in the war when the sirens were screaming and bombers roaring overhead Mother
                                made the two children get into the cloak cupboard under the stairs. Young George
                                seemed quite unconcerned about the planes and the bombs but soon an anxious voice
                                asked in the dark, “Gran, what will I do if a spider falls on me?” I am afraid that Mother is
                                going to miss Ann and George very much.

                                I had a holiday last weekend when Lottie and I went up to London on a spree. It
                                was a most enjoyable weekend, though very rushed. We placed ourselves in the
                                hands of Thos. Cook and Sons and saw most of the sights of London and were run off
                                our feet in the process. As you all know London I shall not describe what I saw but just
                                to say that, best of all, I enjoyed walking along the Thames embankment in the evening
                                and the changing of the Guard at Whitehall. On Sunday morning Lottie and I went to
                                Kew Gardens and in the afternoon walked in Kensington Gardens.

                                We went to only one show, ‘The Skin of our Teeth’ starring Vivienne Leigh.
                                Neither of us enjoyed the performance at all and regretted having spent so much on
                                circle seats. The show was far too highbrow for my taste, a sort of satire on the survival
                                of the human race. Miss Leigh was unrecognisable in a blond wig and her voice strident.
                                However the night was not a dead loss as far as entertainment was concerned as we
                                were later caught up in a tragicomedy at our hotel.

                                We had booked communicating rooms at the enormous Imperial Hotel in Russell
                                Square. These rooms were comfortably furnished but very high up, and we had a rather
                                terrifying and dreary view from the windows of the enclosed courtyard far below. We
                                had some snacks and a chat in Lottie’s room and then I moved to mine and went to bed.
                                I had noted earlier that there was a special lock on the outer door of my room so that
                                when the door was closed from the inside it automatically locked itself.
                                I was just dropping off to sleep when I heard a hammering which seemed to
                                come from my wardrobe. I got up, rather fearfully, and opened the wardrobe door and
                                noted for the first time that the wardrobe was set in an opening in the wall and that the
                                back of the wardrobe also served as the back of the wardrobe in the room next door. I
                                quickly shut it again and went to confer with Lottie.

                                Suddenly a male voice was raised next door in supplication, “Mary Mother of
                                God, Help me! They’ve locked me in!” and the hammering resumed again, sometimes
                                on the door, and then again on the back of the wardrobe of the room next door. Lottie
                                had by this time joined me and together we listened to the prayers and to the
                                hammering. Then the voice began to threaten, “If you don’t let me out I’ll jump out of the
                                window.” Great consternation on our side of the wall. I went out into the passage and
                                called through the door, “You’re not locked in. Come to your door and I’ll tell you how to
                                open it.” Silence for a moment and then again the prayers followed by a threat. All the
                                other doors in the corridor remained shut.

                                Luckily just then a young man and a woman came walking down the corridor and I
                                explained the situation. The young man hurried off for the night porter who went into the
                                next door room. In a matter of minutes there was peace next door. When the night
                                porter came out into the corridor again I asked for an explanation. He said quite casually,
                                “It’s all right Madam. He’s an Irish Gentleman in Show Business. He gets like this on a
                                Saturday night when he has had a drop too much. He won’t give any more trouble
                                now.” And he didn’t. Next morning at breakfast Lottie and I tried to spot the gentleman in
                                the Show Business, but saw no one who looked like the owner of that charming Irish
                                voice.

                                George had to go to London on business last Monday and took the older
                                children with him for a few hours of sight seeing. They returned quite unimpressed.
                                Everything was too old and dirty and there were far too many people about, but they
                                had enjoyed riding on the escalators at the tube stations, and all agreed that the highlight
                                of the trip was, “Dad took us to lunch at the Chicken Inn.”

                                Now that it is almost time to leave England I am finding the housework less of a
                                drudgery, Also, as it is school holiday time, Jim and Henry are able to go on walks with
                                the older children and so use up some of their surplus energy. Cath and I took the
                                children (except young George who went rabbit shooting with his uncle Reg, and
                                Henry, who stayed at home with his dad) to the Wakes at Selston, the neighbouring
                                village. There were the roundabouts and similar contraptions but the side shows had
                                more appeal for the children. Ann and Kate found a stall where assorted prizes were
                                spread out on a sloping table. Anyone who could land a penny squarely on one of
                                these objects was given a similar one as a prize.

                                I was touched to see that both girls ignored all the targets except a box of fifty
                                cigarettes which they were determined to win for me. After numerous attempts, Kate
                                landed her penny successfully and you would have loved to have seen her radiant little
                                face.

                                Eleanor.

                                Dar es Salaam 22nd October 1946

                                Dearest Family.

                                Back in Tanganyika at last, but not together. We have to stay in Dar es Salaam
                                until tomorrow when the train leaves for Dodoma. We arrived yesterday morning to find
                                all the hotels filled with people waiting to board ships for England. Fortunately some
                                friends came to the rescue and Ann, Kate and John have gone to stay with them. Jim,
                                Henry and I are sleeping in a screened corner of the lounge of the New Africa Hotel, and
                                George and young George have beds in the Palm Court of the same hotel.

                                We travelled out from England in the Winchester Castle under troopship
                                conditions. We joined her at Southampton after a rather slow train journey from
                                Nottingham. We arrived after dark and from the station we could see a large ship in the
                                docks with a floodlit red funnel. “Our ship,” yelled the children in delight, but it was not the
                                Winchester Castle but the Queen Elizabeth, newly reconditioned.

                                We had hoped to board our ship that evening but George made enquiries and
                                found that we would not be allowed on board until noon next day. Without much hope,
                                we went off to try to get accommodation for eight at a small hotel recommended by the
                                taxi driver. Luckily for us there was a very motherly woman at the reception desk. She
                                looked in amusement at the six children and said to me, “Goodness are all these yours,
                                ducks? Then she called over her shoulder, “Wilf, come and see this lady with lots of
                                children. We must try to help.” They settled the problem most satisfactorily by turning
                                two rooms into a dormitory.

                                In the morning we had time to inspect bomb damage in the dock area of
                                Southampton. Most of the rubble had been cleared away but there are still numbers of
                                damaged buildings awaiting demolition. A depressing sight. We saw the Queen Mary
                                at anchor, still in her drab war time paint, but magnificent nevertheless.
                                The Winchester Castle was crammed with passengers and many travelled in
                                acute discomfort. We were luckier than most because the two girls, the three small boys
                                and I had a stateroom to ourselves and though it was stripped of peacetime comforts,
                                we had a private bathroom and toilet. The two Georges had bunks in a huge men-only
                                dormitory somewhere in the bowls of the ship where they had to share communal troop
                                ship facilities. The food was plentiful but unexciting and one had to queue for afternoon
                                tea. During the day the decks were crowded and there was squatting room only. The
                                many children on board got bored.

                                Port Said provided a break and we were all entertained by the ‘Gully Gully’ man
                                and his conjuring tricks, and though we had no money to spend at Simon Artz, we did at
                                least have a chance to stretch our legs. Next day scores of passengers took ill with
                                sever stomach upsets, whether from food poisoning, or as was rumoured, from bad
                                water taken on at the Egyptian port, I don’t know. Only the two Georges in our family
                                were affected and their attacks were comparatively mild.

                                As we neared the Kenya port of Mombassa, the passengers for Dar es Salaam
                                were told that they would have to disembark at Mombassa and continue their journey in
                                a small coaster, the Al Said. The Winchester Castle is too big for the narrow channel
                                which leads to Dar es Salaam harbour.

                                From the wharf the Al Said looked beautiful. She was once the private yacht of
                                the Sultan of Zanzibar and has lovely lines. Our admiration lasted only until we were
                                shown our cabins. With one voice our children exclaimed, “Gosh they stink!” They did, of
                                a mixture of rancid oil and sweat and stale urine. The beds were not yet made and the
                                thin mattresses had ominous stains on them. John, ever fastidious, lifted his mattress and two enormous cockroaches scuttled for cover.

                                We had a good homely lunch served by two smiling African stewards and
                                afterwards we sat on deck and that was fine too, though behind ones enjoyment there
                                was the thought of those stuffy and dirty cabins. That first night nearly everyone,
                                including George and our older children, slept on deck. Women occupied deck chairs
                                and men and children slept on the bare decks. Horrifying though the idea was, I decided
                                that, as Jim had a bad cough, he, Henry and I would sleep in our cabin.

                                When I announced my intention of sleeping in the cabin one of the passengers
                                gave me some insecticide spray which I used lavishly, but without avail. The children
                                slept but I sat up all night with the light on, determined to keep at least their pillows clear
                                of the cockroaches which scurried about boldly regardless of the light. All the next day
                                and night we avoided the cabins. The Al Said stopped for some hours at Zanzibar to
                                offload her deck cargo of live cattle and packing cases from the hold. George and the
                                elder children went ashore for a walk but I felt too lazy and there was plenty to watch
                                from deck.

                                That night I too occupied a deck chair and slept quite comfortably, and next
                                morning we entered the palm fringed harbour of Dar es Salaam and were home.

                                Eleanor.

                                Mbeya 1st November 1946

                                Dearest Family.

                                Home at last! We are all most happily installed in a real family house about three
                                miles out of Mbeya and near the school. This house belongs to an elderly German and
                                has been taken over by the Custodian of Enemy Property and leased to the
                                Government.

                                The owner, whose name is Shenkel, was not interned but is allowed to occupy a
                                smaller house on the Estate. I found him in the garden this morning lecturing the children
                                on what they may do and may not do. I tried to make it quite clear to him that he was not
                                our landlord, though he clearly thinks otherwise. After he had gone I had to take two
                                aspirin and lie down to recover my composure! I had been warned that he has this effect
                                on people.

                                Mr Shenkel is a short and ugly man, his clothes are stained with food and he
                                wears steel rimmed glasses tied round his head with a piece of dirty elastic because
                                one earpiece is missing. He speaks with a thick German accent but his English is fluent
                                and I believe he is a cultured and clever man. But he is maddening. The children were
                                more amused than impressed by his exhortations and have happily Christened our
                                home, ‘Old Shenks’.

                                The house has very large grounds as the place is really a derelict farm. It suits us
                                down to the ground. We had no sooner unpacked than George went off on safari after
                                those maneating lions in the Njombe District. he accounted for one, and a further two
                                jointly with a Game Scout, before we left for England. But none was shot during the five
                                months we were away as George’s relief is quite inexperienced in such work. George
                                thinks that there are still about a dozen maneaters at large. His theory is that a female
                                maneater moved into the area in 1938 when maneating first started, and brought up her
                                cubs to be maneaters, and those cubs in turn did the same. The three maneating lions
                                that have been shot were all in very good condition and not old and maimed as
                                maneaters usually are.

                                George anticipates that it will be months before all these lions are accounted for
                                because they are constantly on the move and cover a very large area. The lions have to
                                be hunted on foot because they range over broken country covered by bush and fairly
                                dense thicket.

                                I did a bit of shooting myself yesterday and impressed our African servants and
                                the children and myself. What a fluke! Our houseboy came to say that there was a snake
                                in the garden, the biggest he had ever seen. He said it was too big to kill with a stick and
                                would I shoot it. I had no gun but a heavy .450 Webley revolver and I took this and
                                hurried out with the children at my heels.

                                The snake turned out to be an unusually large puff adder which had just shed its
                                skin. It looked beautiful in a repulsive way. So flanked by servants and children I took
                                aim and shot, not hitting the head as I had planned, but breaking the snake’s back with
                                the heavy bullet. The two native boys then rushed up with sticks and flattened the head.
                                “Ma you’re a crack shot,” cried the kids in delighted surprise. I hope to rest on my laurels
                                for a long, long while.

                                Although there are only a few weeks of school term left the four older children will
                                start school on Monday. Not only am I pleased with our new home here but also with
                                the staff I have engaged. Our new houseboy, Reuben, (but renamed Robin by our
                                children) is not only cheerful and willing but intelligent too, and Jumbe, the wood and
                                garden boy, is a born clown and a source of great entertainment to the children.

                                I feel sure that we are all going to be very happy here at ‘Old Shenks!.

                                Eleanor.

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