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  • #6319

    In reply to: The Sexy Wooden Leg

    “Calm yourself, Egbert, and sit down. And be quiet! I can barely hear myself think with your frantic gibbering and flailing around,” Olga said, closing her eyes.  “I need to think.”

    Egbert clutched the eiderdown on either side of his bony trembling knees and clamped his remaining teeth together, drawing ragged whistling breaths in an attempt to calm himself.  Olga was right, he needed to calm down. Besides the unfortunate effects of the letter on his habitual tremor, he felt sure his blood pressure had risen alarmingly.  He dared not become so ill that he needed medical assistance, not with the state of the hospitals these days. He’d be lucky to survive the plague ridden wards.

    What had become of him! He imagined his younger self looking on with horror, appalled at his feeble body and shattered mind.  Imagine becoming so desperate that he wanted to fight to stay in this godforsaken dump, what had become of him! If only he knew of somewhere else to go, somewhere safe and pleasant, somewhere that smelled sweetly of meadows and honesuckle and freshly baked cherry pies, with the snorting of pigs in the yard…

    But wait, that was Olga snoring. Useless old bag had fallen asleep! For the first time since Viktor had died he felt close to tears. What a sad sorry pathetic old man he’d become, desperately counting on a old woman to save him.

    “Stop sniveling, Egbert, and go and pack a bag.” Olga had woken up from her momentary but illuminating lapse.    “Don’t bring too much, we may have much walking to do. I hear the buses and trains are in a shambles and full of refugees. We don’t want to get herded up with them.”

    Astonished, Egbert asked where they were going.

    “To see Rosa. My cousins father in laws neice. Don’t look at me like that, immediate family are seldom the ones who help.  The distant ones are another matter.  And be honest Egbert,” Olga said with a piercing look, “Do we really want to stay here? You may think you do, but it’s the fear of change, that’s all. Change feels like too much bother, doesn’t it?”

    Egbert nodded sadly, his eyes fixed on the stain on the grey carpet.

    Olga leaned forward and took his hand gently. “Egbert, look at me.” He raised his head and looked into her eyes. He’d never seen a sparkle in her faded blue eyes before.  “I still have another adventure in me. How about you?”

    #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.

       

      #6305
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        The Hair’s and Leedham’s of Netherseal

         

        Samuel Warren of Stapenhill married Catherine Holland of Barton under Needwood in 1795. Catherine’s father was Thomas Holland; her mother was Hannah Hair.

        Hannah was born in Netherseal, Derbyshire, in 1739. Her parents were Joseph Hair 1696-1746 and Hannah.
        Joseph’s parents were Isaac Hair and Elizabeth Leedham.  Elizabeth was born in Netherseal in 1665.  Isaac and Elizabeth were married in Netherseal in 1686.

        Marriage of Isaac Hair and Elizabeth Leedham: (variously spelled Ledom, Leedom, Leedham, and in one case mistranscribed as Sedom):

         

        1686 marriage Nicholas Leedham

         

        Isaac was buried in Netherseal on 14 August 1709 (the transcript says the 18th, but the microfiche image clearly says the 14th), but I have not been able to find a birth registered for him. On other public trees on an ancestry website, Isaac Le Haire was baptised in Canterbury and was a Huguenot, but I haven’t found any evidence to support this.

        Isaac Hair’s death registered 14 August 1709 in Netherseal:

        Isaac Hair death 1709

         

        A search for the etymology of the surname Hair brings various suggestions, including:

        “This surname is derived from a nickname. ‘the hare,’ probably affixed on some one fleet of foot. Naturally looked upon as a complimentary sobriquet, and retained in the family; compare Lightfoot. (for example) Hugh le Hare, Oxfordshire, 1273. Hundred Rolls.”

        From this we may deduce that the name Hair (or Hare) is not necessarily from the French Le Haire, and existed in England for some considerable time before the arrival of the Huguenots.

        Elizabeth Leedham was born in Netherseal in 1665. Her parents were Nicholas Leedham 1621-1670 and Dorothy. Nicholas Leedham was born in Church Gresley (Swadlincote) in 1621, and died in Netherseal in 1670.

        Nicholas was a Yeoman and left a will and inventory worth £147.14s.8d (one hundred and forty seven pounds fourteen shillings and eight pence).

        The 1670 inventory of Nicholas Leedham:

        1670 will Nicholas Leedham

         

        According to local historian Mark Knight on the Netherseal History facebook group, the Seale (Netherseal and Overseal)  parish registers from the year 1563 to 1724 were digitized during lockdown.

        via Mark Knight:

        “There are five entries for Nicholas Leedham.
        On March 14th 1646 he and his wife buried an unnamed child, presumably the child died during childbirth or was stillborn.
        On November 28th 1659 he buried his wife, Elizabeth. He remarried as on June 13th 1664 he had his son William baptised.
        The following year, 1665, he baptised a daughter on November 12th. (Elizabeth) On December 23rd 1672 the parish record says that Dorithy daughter of Dorithy was buried. The Bishops Transcript has Dorithy a daughter of Nicholas. Nicholas’ second wife was called Dorithy and they named a daughter after her. Alas, the daughter died two years after Nicholas. No further Leedhams appear in the record until after 1724.”

        Dorothy daughter of Dorothy Leedham was buried 23 December 1672:

        Dorothy

         

         

        William, son of Nicholas and Dorothy also left a will. In it he mentions “My dear wife Elizabeth. My children Thomas Leedom, Dorothy Leedom , Ann Leedom, Christopher Leedom and William Leedom.”

        1726 will of William Leedham:

        1726 will William Leedham

         

        I found a curious error with the the parish register entries for Hannah Hair. It was a transcription error, but not a recent one. The original parish registers were copied: “HO Copy of ye register of Seale anno 1739.” I’m not sure when the copy was made, but it wasn’t recently. I found a burial for Hannah Hair on 22 April 1739 in the HO copy, which was the same day as her baptism registered on the original. I checked both registers name by name and they are exactly copied EXCEPT for Hannah Hairs. The rector, Richard Inge, put burial instead of baptism by mistake.

        The original Parish register baptism of Hannah Hair:

        Hannah Hair 1

         

        The HO register copy incorrectly copied:

        Hannah Hair 2

        #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

          #6301
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            The Warrens of Stapenhill

             

            There were so many Warren’s in Stapenhill that it was complicated to work out who was who. I had gone back as far as Samuel Warren marrying Catherine Holland, and this was as far back as my cousin Ian Warren had gone in his research some decades ago as well. The Holland family from Barton under Needwood are particularly interesting, and will be a separate chapter.

            Stapenhill village by John Harden:

            Stapenhill

             

            Resuming the research on the Warrens, Samuel Warren 1771-1837 married Catherine Holland 1775-1861 in 1795 and their son Samuel Warren 1800-1882 married Elizabeth Bridge, whose childless brother Benjamin Bridge left the Warren Brothers Boiler Works in Newhall to his nephews, the Warren brothers.

            Samuel Warren and Catherine Holland marriage licence 1795:

            Samuel Warren Catherine Holland

             

            Samuel (born 1771) was baptised at Stapenhill St Peter and his parents were William and Anne Warren. There were at least three William and Ann Warrens in town at the time. One of those William’s was born in 1744, which would seem to be the right age to be Samuel’s father, and one was born in 1710, which seemed a little too old. Another William, Guiliamos Warren (Latin was often used in early parish registers) was baptised in Stapenhill in 1729.

            Stapenhill St Peter:

            Stapenhill St Peter

             

            William Warren (born 1744) appeared to have been born several months before his parents wedding. William Warren and Ann Insley married 16 July 1744, but the baptism of William in 1744 was 24 February. This seemed unusual ~ children were often born less than nine months after a wedding, but not usually before the wedding! Then I remembered the change from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar in 1752. Prior to 1752, the first day of the year was Lady Day, March 25th, not January 1st. This meant that the birth in February 1744 was actually after the wedding in July 1744. Now it made sense. The first son was named William, and he was born seven months after the wedding.

            William born in 1744 died intestate in 1822, and his wife Ann made a legal claim to his estate. However he didn’t marry Ann Holland (Ann was Catherines Hollands sister, who married Samuel Warren the year before) until 1796, so this William and Ann were not the parents of Samuel.

            It seemed likely that William born in 1744 was Samuels brother. William Warren and Ann Insley had at least eight children between 1744 and 1771, and it seems that Samuel was their last child, born when William the elder was 61 and his wife Ann was 47.

            It seems it wasn’t unusual for the Warren men to marry rather late in life. William Warren’s (born 1710) parents were William Warren and Elizabeth Hatterton. On the marriage licence in 1702/1703 (it appears to say 1703 but is transcribed as 1702), William was a 40 year old bachelor from Stapenhill, which puts his date of birth at 1662. Elizabeth was considerably younger, aged 19.

            William Warren and Elizabeth Hatterton marriage licence 1703:

            William Warren 1702

             

            These Warren’s were farmers, and they were literate and able to sign their own names on various documents. This is worth noting, as most made the mark of an X.

            I found three Warren and Holland marriages. One was Samuel Warren and Catherine Holland in 1795, then William Warren and Ann Holland in 1796. William Warren and Ann Hollands daughter born in 1799 married John Holland in 1824.

            Elizabeth Hatterton (wife of William Warren who was born circa 1662) was born in Burton upon Trent in 1685. Her parents were Edward Hatterton 1655-1722, and Sara.

            A page from the 1722 will of Edward Hatterton:

            Edward Hatterton 1722

             

            The earliest Warren I found records for was William Warren who married Elizabeth Hatterton in 1703. The marriage licence states his age as 40 and that he was from Stapenhill, but none of the Stapenhill parish records online go back as far as 1662.  On other public trees on ancestry websites, a birth record from Suffolk has been chosen, probably because it was the only record to be found online with the right name and date. Once again, I don’t think that is correct, and perhaps one day I’ll find some earlier Stapenhill records to prove that he was born in locally.

             

            Subsequently, I found a list of the 1662 Hearth Tax for Stapenhill. On it were a number of Warrens, three William Warrens including one who was a constable. One of those William Warrens had a son he named William (as they did, hence the number of William Warrens in the tree) the same year as this hearth tax list.

            But was it the William Warren with 2 chimneys, the one with one chimney who was too poor to pay it, or the one who was a constable?

            from the list:
            Will. Warryn 2
            Richard Warryn 1
            William Warren Constable
            These names are not payable by Act:
            Will. Warryn 1
            Richard Warren John Watson
            over seers of the poore and churchwardens

            The Hearth Tax:

            via wiki:
            In England, hearth tax, also known as hearth money, chimney tax, or chimney money, was a tax imposed by Parliament in 1662, to support the Royal Household of King Charles II. Following the Restoration of the monarchy in 1660, Parliament calculated that the Royal Household needed an annual income of £1,200,000. The hearth tax was a supplemental tax to make up the shortfall. It was considered easier to establish the number of hearths than the number of heads, hearths forming a more stationary subject for taxation than people. This form of taxation was new to England, but had precedents abroad. It generated considerable debate, but was supported by the economist Sir William Petty, and carried through the Commons by the influential West Country member Sir Courtenay Pole, 2nd Baronet (whose enemies nicknamed him “Sir Chimney Poll” as a result).  The bill received Royal Assent on 19 May 1662, with the first payment due on 29 September 1662, Michaelmas.
            One shilling was liable to be paid for every firehearth or stove, in all dwellings, houses, edifices or lodgings, and was payable at Michaelmas, 29 September and on Lady Day, 25 March. The tax thus amounted to two shillings per hearth or stove per year. The original bill contained a practical shortcoming in that it did not distinguish between owners and occupiers and was potentially a major burden on the poor as there were no exemptions. The bill was subsequently amended so that the tax was paid by the occupier. Further amendments introduced a range of exemptions that ensured that a substantial proportion of the poorer people did not have to pay the tax.

             

            Indeed it seems clear that William Warren the elder came from Stapenhill and not Suffolk, and one of the William Warrens paying hearth tax in 1662 was undoubtedly the father of William Warren who married Elizabeth Hatterton.

            #6300
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Looking for Carringtons

               

              The Carringtons of Smalley, at least some of them, were Baptist  ~ otherwise known as “non conformist”.  Baptists don’t baptise at birth, believing it’s up to the person to choose when they are of an age to do so, although that appears to be fairly random in practice with small children being baptised.  This makes it hard to find the birth dates registered as not every village had a Baptist church, and the baptisms would take place in another town.   However some of the children were baptised in the village Anglican church as well, so they don’t seem to have been consistent. Perhaps at times a quick baptism locally for a sickly child was considered prudent, and preferable to no baptism at all. It’s impossible to know for sure and perhaps they were not strictly commited to a particular denomination.

              Our Carrington’s start with Ellen Carrington who married William Housley in 1814. William Housley was previously married to Ellen’s older sister Mary Carrington.  Ellen (born 1895 and baptised 1897) and her sister Nanny were baptised at nearby Ilkeston Baptist church but I haven’t found baptisms for Mary or siblings Richard and Francis.  We know they were also children of William Carrington as he mentions them in his 1834 will. Son William was baptised at the local Smalley church in 1784, as was Thomas in 1896.

              The absence of baptisms in Smalley with regard to Baptist influence was noted in the Smalley registers:

              not baptised

               

              Smalley (chapelry of Morley) registers began in 1624, Morley registers began in 1540 with no obvious gaps in either.  The gap with the missing registered baptisms would be 1786-1793. The Ilkeston Baptist register began in 1791. Information from the Smalley registers indicates that about a third of the children were not being baptised due to the Baptist influence.

               

              William Housley son in law, daughter Mary Housley deceased, and daughter Eleanor (Ellen) Housley are all mentioned in William Housley’s 1834 will.  On the marriage allegations and bonds for William Housley and Mary Carrington in 1806, her birth date is registered at 1787, her father William Carrington.

              A Page from the will of William Carrington 1834:

              1834 Will Carrington will

               

              William Carrington was baptised in nearby Horsley Woodhouse on 27 August 1758.  His parents were William and Margaret Carrington “near the Hilltop”. He married Mary Malkin, also of Smalley, on the 27th August 1783.

              When I started looking for Margaret Wright who married William Carrington the elder, I chanced upon the Smalley parish register micro fiche images wrongly labeled by the ancestry site as Longford.   I subsequently found that the Derby Records office published a list of all the wrongly labeled Derbyshire towns that the ancestry site knew about for ten years at least but has not corrected!

              Margaret Wright was baptised in Smalley (mislabeled as Longford although the register images clearly say Smalley!) on the 2nd March 1728. Her parents were John and Margaret Wright.

              But I couldn’t find a birth or baptism anywhere for William Carrington. I found four sources for William and Margaret’s marriage and none of them suggested that William wasn’t local.  On other public trees on ancestry sites, William’s father was Joshua Carrington from Chinley. Indeed, when doing a search for William Carrington born circa 1720 to 1725, this was the only one in Derbyshire.  But why would a teenager move to the other side of the county?  It wasn’t uncommon to be apprenticed in neighbouring villages or towns, but Chinley didn’t seem right to me.  It seemed to me that it had been selected on the other trees because it was the only easily found result for the search, and not because it was the right one.

              I spent days reading every page of the microfiche images of the parish registers locally looking for Carringtons, any Carringtons at all in the area prior to 1720. Had there been none at all, then the possibility of William being the first Carrington in the area having moved there from elsewhere would have been more reasonable.

              But there were many Carringtons in Heanor, a mile or so from Smalley, in the 1600s and early 1700s, although they were often spelled Carenton, sometimes Carrianton in the parish registers. The earliest Carrington I found in the area was Alice Carrington baptised in Ilkeston in 1602.  It seemed obvious that William’s parents were local and not from Chinley.

              The Heanor parish registers of the time were not very clearly written. The handwriting was bad and the spelling variable, depending I suppose on what the name sounded like to the person writing in the registers at the time as the majority of the people were probably illiterate.  The registers are also in a generally poor condition.

              I found a burial of a child called William on the 16th January 1721, whose father was William Carenton of “Losko” (Loscoe is a nearby village also part of Heanor at that time). This looked promising!  If a child died, a later born child would be given the same name. This was very common: in a couple of cases I’ve found three deceased infants with the same first name until a fourth one named the same survived.  It seemed very likely that a subsequent son would be named William and he would be the William Carrington born circa 1720 to 1725 that we were looking for.

              Heanor parish registers: William son of William Carenton of Losko buried January 19th 1721:

              1721 William Carenton

               

              The Heanor parish registers between 1720 and 1729 are in many places illegible, however there are a couple of possibilities that could be the baptism of William in 1724 and 1725. A William son of William Carenton of Loscoe was buried in Jan 1721. In 1722 a Willian son of William Carenton (transcribed Tarenton) of Loscoe was buried. A subsequent son called William is likely. On 15 Oct 1724 a William son of William and Eliz (last name indecipherable) of Loscoe was baptised.  A Mary, daughter of William Carrianton of Loscoe, was baptised in 1727.

              I propose that William Carringtons was born in Loscoe and baptised in Heanor in 1724: if not 1724 then I would assume his baptism is one of the illegible or indecipherable entires within those few years.  This falls short of absolute documented proof of course, but it makes sense to me.

               

               

              In any case, if a William Carrington child died in Heanor in 1721 which we do have documented proof of, it further dismisses the case for William having arrived for no discernable reason from Chinley.

              #6293
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Lincolnshire Families

                 

                Thanks to the 1851 census, we know that William Eaton was born in Grantham, Lincolnshire. He was baptised on 29 November 1768 at St Wulfram’s church; his father was William Eaton and his mother Elizabeth.

                St Wulfram’s in Grantham painted by JMW Turner in 1797:

                St Wulframs

                 

                I found a marriage for a William Eaton and Elizabeth Rose in the city of Lincoln in 1761, but it seemed unlikely as they were both of that parish, and with no discernable links to either Grantham or Nottingham.

                But there were two marriages registered for William Eaton and Elizabeth Rose: one in Lincoln in 1761 and one in Hawkesworth Nottinghamshire in 1767, the year before William junior was baptised in Grantham. Hawkesworth is between Grantham and Nottingham, and this seemed much more likely.

                Elizabeth’s name is spelled Rose on her marriage records, but spelled Rouse on her baptism. It’s not unusual for spelling variations to occur, as the majority of people were illiterate and whoever was recording the event wrote what it sounded like.

                Elizabeth Rouse was baptised on 26th December 1746 in Gunby St Nicholas (there is another Gunby in Lincolnshire), a short distance from Grantham. Her father was Richard Rouse; her mother Cave Pindar. Cave is a curious name and I wondered if it had been mistranscribed, but it appears to be correct and clearly says Cave on several records.

                Richard Rouse married Cave Pindar 21 July 1744 in South Witham, not far from Grantham.

                Richard was born in 1716 in North Witham. His father was William Rouse; his mothers name was Jane.

                Cave Pindar was born in 1719 in Gunby St Nicholas, near Grantham. Her father was William Pindar, but sadly her mothers name is not recorded in the parish baptism register. However a marriage was registered between William Pindar and Elizabeth Holmes in Gunby St Nicholas in October 1712.

                William Pindar buried a daughter Cave on 2 April 1719 and baptised a daughter Cave on 6 Oct 1719:

                Cave Pindar

                 

                Elizabeth Holmes was baptised in Gunby St Nicholas on 6th December 1691. Her father was John Holmes; her mother Margaret Hod.

                Margaret Hod would have been born circa 1650 to 1670 and I haven’t yet found a baptism record for her. According to several other public trees on an ancestry website, she was born in 1654 in Essenheim, Germany. This was surprising! According to these trees, her father was Johannes Hod (Blodt|Hoth) (1609–1677) and her mother was Maria Appolonia Witters (1620–1656).

                I did not think it very likely that a young woman born in Germany would appear in Gunby St Nicholas in the late 1600’s, and did a search for Hod’s in and around Grantham. Indeed there were Hod’s living in the area as far back as the 1500’s, (a Robert Hod was baptised in Grantham in 1552), and no doubt before, but the parish records only go so far back. I think it’s much more likely that her parents were local, and that the page with her baptism recorded on the registers is missing.

                Of the many reasons why parish registers or some of the pages would be destroyed or lost, this is another possibility. Lincolnshire is on the east coast of England:

                “All of England suffered from a “monster” storm in November of 1703 that killed a reported 8,000 people. Seaside villages suffered greatly and their church and civil records may have been lost.”

                A Margeret Hod, widow, died in Gunby St Nicholas in 1691, the same year that Elizabeth Holmes was born. Elizabeth’s mother was Margaret Hod. Perhaps the widow who died was Margaret Hod’s mother? I did wonder if Margaret Hod had died shortly after her daughter’s birth, and that her husband had died sometime between the conception and birth of his child. The Black Death or Plague swept through Lincolnshire in 1680 through 1690; such an eventually would be possible. But Margaret’s name would have been registered as Holmes, not Hod.

                Cave Pindar’s father William was born in Swinstead, Lincolnshire, also near to Grantham, on the 28th December, 1690, and he died in Gunby St Nicholas in 1756. William’s father is recorded as Thomas Pinder; his mother Elizabeth.

                GUNBY: The village name derives from a “farmstead or village of a man called Gunni”, from the Old Scandinavian person name, and ‘by’, a farmstead, village or settlement.
                Gunby Grade II listed Anglican church is dedicated to St Nicholas. Of 15th-century origin, it was rebuilt by Richard Coad in 1869, although the Perpendicular tower remained.

                Gunby St Nicholas

                #6291
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Jane Eaton

                  The Nottingham Girl

                   

                  Jane Eaton 1809-1879

                  Francis Purdy, the Beggarlea Bulldog and Methodist Minister, married Jane Eaton in 1837 in Nottingham. Jane was his second wife.

                  Jane Eaton, photo says “Grandma Purdy” on the back:

                  Jane Eaton

                   

                  Jane is described as a “Nottingham girl” in a book excerpt sent to me by Jim Giles, a relation who shares the same 3x great grandparents, Francis and Jane Purdy.

                  Jane Eaton Nottingham

                  Jane Eaton 2

                   

                  Elizabeth, Francis Purdy’s first wife, died suddenly at chapel in 1836, leaving nine children.

                  On Christmas day the following year Francis married Jane Eaton at St Peters church in Nottingham. Jane married a Methodist Minister, and didn’t realize she married the bare knuckle fighter she’d seen when she was fourteen until he undressed and she saw his scars.

                  jane eaton 3

                   

                  William Eaton 1767-1851

                  On the marriage certificate Jane’s father was William Eaton, occupation gardener. Francis’s father was William Purdy, engineer.

                  On the 1841 census living in Sollory’s Yard, Nottingham St Mary, William Eaton was a 70 year old gardener. It doesn’t say which county he was born in but indicates that it was not Nottinghamshire. Living with him were Mary Eaton, milliner, age 35, Mary Eaton, milliner, 15, and Elizabeth Rhodes age 35, a sempstress (another word for seamstress). The three women were born in Nottinghamshire.

                  But who was Elizabeth Rhodes?

                  Elizabeth Eaton was Jane’s older sister, born in 1797 in Nottingham. She married William Rhodes, a private in the 5th Dragoon Guards, in Leeds in October 1815.

                  I looked for Elizabeth Rhodes on the 1851 census, which stated that she was a widow. I was also trying to determine which William Eaton death was the right one, and found William Eaton was still living with Elizabeth in 1851 at Pilcher Gate in Nottingham, but his name had been entered backwards: Eaton William. I would not have found him on the 1851 census had I searched for Eaton as a last name.

                  Pilcher Gate gets its strange name from pilchers or fur dealers and was once a very narrow thoroughfare. At the lower end stood a pub called The Windmill – frequented by the notorious robber and murderer Charlie Peace.

                  This was a lucky find indeed, because William’s place of birth was listed as Grantham, Lincolnshire. There were a couple of other William Eaton’s born at the same time, both near to Nottingham. It was tricky to work out which was the right one, but as it turned out, neither of them were.

                  William Eaton Grantham

                   

                  Now we had Nottinghamshire and Lincolnshire border straddlers, so the search moved to the Lincolnshire records.
                  But first, what of the two Mary Eatons living with William?

                  William and his wife Mary had a daughter Mary in 1799 who died in 1801, and another daughter Mary Ann born in 1803. (It was common to name children after a previous infant who had died.)  It seems that Mary Ann didn’t marry but had a daughter Mary Eaton born in 1822.

                  William and his wife Mary also had a son Richard Eaton born in 1801 in Nottingham.

                  Who was William Eaton’s wife Mary?

                  There are two possibilities: Mary Cresswell and a marriage in Nottingham in 1797, or Mary Dewey and a marriage at Grantham in 1795. If it’s Mary Cresswell, the first child Elizabeth would have been born just four or five months after the wedding. (This was far from unusual). However, no births in Grantham, or in Nottingham, were recorded for William and Mary in between 1795 and 1797.

                  We don’t know why William moved from Grantham to Nottingham or when he moved there. According to Dearden’s 1834 Nottingham directory, William Eaton was a “Gardener and Seedsman”.

                  gardener and seedsan William Eaton

                  There was another William Eaton selling turnip seeds in the same part of Nottingham. At first I thought it must be the same William, but apparently not, as that William Eaton is recorded as a victualler, born in Ruddington. The turnip seeds were advertised in 1847 as being obtainable from William Eaton at the Reindeer Inn, Wheeler Gate. Perhaps he was related.

                  William lived in the Lace Market part of Nottingham.   I wondered where a gardener would be working in that part of the city.  According to CreativeQuarter website, “in addition to the trades and housing (sometimes under the same roof), there were a number of splendid mansions being built with extensive gardens and orchards. Sadly, these no longer exist as they were gradually demolished to make way for commerce…..The area around St Mary’s continued to develop as an elegant residential district during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, with buildings … being built for nobility and rich merchants.”

                  William Eaton died in Nottingham in September 1851, thankfully after the census was taken recording his place of birth.

                  #6290
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Leicestershire Blacksmiths

                    The Orgill’s of Measham led me further into Leicestershire as I traveled back in time.

                    I also realized I had uncovered a direct line of women and their mothers going back ten generations:

                    myself, Tracy Edwards 1957-
                    my mother Gillian Marshall 1933-
                    my grandmother Florence Warren 1906-1988
                    her mother and my great grandmother Florence Gretton 1881-1927
                    her mother Sarah Orgill 1840-1910
                    her mother Elizabeth Orgill 1803-1876
                    her mother Sarah Boss 1783-1847
                    her mother Elizabeth Page 1749-
                    her mother Mary Potter 1719-1780
                    and her mother and my 7x great grandmother Mary 1680-

                    You could say it leads us to the very heart of England, as these Leicestershire villages are as far from the coast as it’s possible to be. There are countless other maternal lines to follow, of course, but only one of mothers of mothers, and ours takes us to Leicestershire.

                    The blacksmiths

                    Sarah Boss was the daughter of Michael Boss 1755-1807, a blacksmith in Measham, and Elizabeth Page of nearby Hartshorn, just over the county border in Derbyshire.

                    An earlier Michael Boss, a blacksmith of Measham, died in 1772, and in his will he left the possession of the blacksmiths shop and all the working tools and a third of the household furniture to Michael, who he named as his nephew. He left his house in Appleby Magna to his wife Grace, and five pounds to his mother Jane Boss. As none of Michael and Grace’s children are mentioned in the will, perhaps it can be assumed that they were childless.

                    The will of Michael Boss, 1772, Measham:

                    Michael Boss 1772 will

                     

                    Michael Boss the uncle was born in Appleby Magna in 1724. His parents were Michael Boss of Nelson in the Thistles and Jane Peircivall of Appleby Magna, who were married in nearby Mancetter in 1720.

                    Information worth noting on the Appleby Magna website:

                    In 1752 the calendar in England was changed from the Julian Calendar to the Gregorian Calendar, as a result 11 days were famously “lost”. But for the recording of Church Registers another very significant change also took place, the start of the year was moved from March 25th to our more familiar January 1st.
                    Before 1752 the 1st day of each new year was March 25th, Lady Day (a significant date in the Christian calendar). The year number which we all now use for calculating ages didn’t change until March 25th. So, for example, the day after March 24th 1750 was March 25th 1751, and January 1743 followed December 1743.
                    This March to March recording can be seen very clearly in the Appleby Registers before 1752. Between 1752 and 1768 there appears slightly confused recording, so dates should be carefully checked. After 1768 the recording is more fully by the modern calendar year.

                    Michael Boss the uncle married Grace Cuthbert.  I haven’t yet found the birth or parents of Grace, but a blacksmith by the name of Edward Cuthbert is mentioned on an Appleby Magna history website:

                    An Eighteenth Century Blacksmith’s Shop in Little Appleby
                    by Alan Roberts

                    Cuthberts inventory

                    The inventory of Edward Cuthbert provides interesting information about the household possessions and living arrangements of an eighteenth century blacksmith. Edward Cuthbert (als. Cutboard) settled in Appleby after the Restoration to join the handful of blacksmiths already established in the parish, including the Wathews who were prominent horse traders. The blacksmiths may have all worked together in the same shop at one time. Edward and his wife Sarah recorded the baptisms of several of their children in the parish register. Somewhat sadly three of the boys named after their father all died either in infancy or as young children. Edward’s inventory which was drawn up in 1732, by which time he was probably a widower and his children had left home, suggests that they once occupied a comfortable two-storey house in Little Appleby with an attached workshop, well equipped with all the tools for repairing farm carts, ploughs and other implements, for shoeing horses and for general ironmongery. 

                    Edward Cuthbert born circa 1660, married Joane Tuvenet in 1684 in Swepston cum Snarestone , and died in Appleby in 1732. Tuvenet is a French name and suggests a Huguenot connection, but this isn’t our family, and indeed this Edward Cuthbert is not likely to be Grace’s father anyway.

                    Michael Boss and Elizabeth Page appear to have married twice: once in 1776, and once in 1779. Both of the documents exist and appear correct. Both marriages were by licence. They both mention Michael is a blacksmith.

                    Their first daughter, Elizabeth, was baptized in February 1777, just nine months after the first wedding. It’s not known when she was born, however, and it’s possible that the marriage was a hasty one. But why marry again three years later?

                    But Michael Boss and Elizabeth Page did not marry twice.

                    Elizabeth Page from Smisby was born in 1752 and married Michael Boss on the 5th of May 1776 in Measham. On the marriage licence allegations and bonds, Michael is a bachelor.

                    Baby Elizabeth was baptised in Measham on the 9th February 1777. Mother Elizabeth died on the 18th February 1777, also in Measham.

                    In 1779 Michael Boss married another Elizabeth Page! She was born in 1749 in Hartshorn, and Michael is a widower on the marriage licence allegations and bonds.

                    Hartshorn and Smisby are neighbouring villages, hence the confusion.  But a closer look at the documents available revealed the clues.  Both Elizabeth Pages were literate, and indeed their signatures on the marriage registers are different:

                    Marriage of Michael Boss and Elizabeth Page of Smisby in 1776:

                    Elizabeth Page 1776

                     

                    Marriage of Michael Boss and Elizabeth Page of Harsthorn in 1779:

                    Elizabeth Page 1779

                     

                    Not only did Michael Boss marry two women both called Elizabeth Page but he had an unusual start in life as well. His uncle Michael Boss left him the blacksmith business and a third of his furniture. This was all in the will. But which of Uncle Michaels brothers was nephew Michaels father?

                    The only Michael Boss born at the right time was in 1750 in Edingale, Staffordshire, about eight miles from Appleby Magna. His parents were Thomas Boss and Ann Parker, married in Edingale in 1747.  Thomas died in August 1750, and his son Michael was baptised in the December, posthumus son of Thomas and his widow Ann. Both entries are on the same page of the register.

                    1750 posthumus

                     

                    Ann Boss, the young widow, married again. But perhaps Michael and his brother went to live with their childless uncle and aunt, Michael Boss and Grace Cuthbert.

                    The great grandfather of Michael Boss (the Measham blacksmith born in 1850) was also Michael Boss, probably born in the 1660s. He died in Newton Regis in Warwickshire in 1724, four years after his son (also Michael Boss born 1693) married Jane Peircivall.  The entry on the parish register states that Michael Boss was buried ye 13th Affadavit made.

                    I had not seen affadavit made on a parish register before, and this relates to the The Burying in Woollen Acts 1666–80.  According to Wikipedia:

                     “Acts of the Parliament of England which required the dead, except plague victims and the destitute, to be buried in pure English woollen shrouds to the exclusion of any foreign textiles.  It was a requirement that an affidavit be sworn in front of a Justice of the Peace (usually by a relative of the deceased), confirming burial in wool, with the punishment of a £5 fee for noncompliance. Burial entries in parish registers were marked with the word “affidavit” or its equivalent to confirm that affidavit had been sworn; it would be marked “naked” for those too poor to afford the woollen shroud.  The legislation was in force until 1814, but was generally ignored after 1770.”

                    Michael Boss buried 1724 “Affadavit made”:

                    Michael Boss affadavit 1724

                     

                     

                     

                    Elizabeth Page‘s father was William Page 1717-1783, a wheelwright in Hartshorn.  (The father of the first wife Elizabeth was also William Page, but he was a husbandman in Smisby born in 1714. William Page, the father of the second wife, was born in Nailstone, Leicestershire, in 1717. His place of residence on his marriage to Mary Potter was spelled Nelson.)

                    Her mother was Mary Potter 1719- of nearby Coleorton.  Mary’s father, Richard Potter 1677-1731, was a blacksmith in Coleorton.

                    A page of the will of Richard Potter 1731:

                    Richard Potter 1731

                     

                    Richard Potter states: “I will and order that my son Thomas Potter shall after my decease have one shilling paid to him and no more.”  As he left £50 to each of his daughters, one can’t help but wonder what Thomas did to displease his father.

                    Richard stipulated that his son Thomas should have one shilling paid to him and not more, for several good considerations, and left “the house and ground lying in the parish of Whittwick in a place called the Long Lane to my wife Mary Potter to dispose of as she shall think proper.”

                    His son Richard inherited the blacksmith business:  “I will and order that my son Richard Potter shall live and be with his mother and serve her duly and truly in the business of a blacksmith, and obey and serve her in all lawful commands six years after my decease, and then I give to him and his heirs…. my house and grounds Coulson House in the Liberty of Thringstone”

                    Richard wanted his son John to be a blacksmith too: “I will and order that my wife bring up my son John Potter at home with her and teach or cause him to be taught the trade of a blacksmith and that he shall serve her duly and truly seven years after my decease after the manner of an apprentice and at the death of his mother I give him that house and shop and building and the ground belonging to it which I now dwell in to him and his heirs forever.”

                    To his daughters Margrett and Mary Potter, upon their reaching the age of one and twenty, or the day after their marriage, he leaves £50 each. All the rest of his goods are left to his loving wife Mary.

                     

                    An inventory of the belongings of Richard Potter, 1731:

                    Richard Potter inventory

                     

                    Richard Potters father was also named Richard Potter 1649-1719, and he too was a blacksmith.

                    Richard Potter of Coleorton in the county of Leicester, blacksmith, stated in his will:  “I give to my son and daughter Thomas and Sarah Potter the possession of my house and grounds.”

                    He leaves ten pounds each to his daughters Jane and Alice, to his son Francis he gives five pounds, and five shillings to his son Richard. Sons Joseph and William also receive five shillings each. To his daughter Mary, wife of Edward Burton, and her daughter Elizabeth, he gives five shillings each. The rest of his good, chattels and wordly substance he leaves equally between his son and daugter Thomas and Sarah. As there is no mention of his wife, it’s assumed that she predeceased him.

                    The will of Richard Potter, 1719:

                    Richard Potter 1719

                     

                    Richard Potter’s (1649-1719) parents were William Potter and Alse Huldin, both born in the early 1600s.  They were married in 1646 at Breedon on the Hill, Leicestershire.  The name Huldin appears to originate in Finland.

                    William Potter was a blacksmith. In the 1659 parish registers of Breedon on the Hill, William Potter of Breedon blacksmith buryed the 14th July.

                    #6286
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Matthew Orgill and His Family

                       

                      Matthew Orgill 1828-1907 was the Orgill brother who went to Australia, but returned to Measham.  Matthew married Mary Orgill in Measham in October 1856, having returned from Victoria, Australia in May of that year.

                      Although Matthew was the first Orgill brother to go to Australia, he was the last one I found, and that was somewhat by accident, while perusing “Orgill” and “Measham” in a newspaper archives search.  I chanced on Matthew’s obituary in the Nuneaton Observer, Friday 14 June 1907:

                      LATE MATTHEW ORGILL PEACEFUL END TO A BLAMELESS LIFE.

                      ‘Sunset and Evening Star And one clear call for me.”

                      It is with very deep regret that we have to announce the death of Mr. Matthew Orgill, late of Measham, who passed peacefully away at his residence in Manor Court Road, Nuneaton, in the early hours of yesterday morning. Mr. Orgill, who was in his eightieth year, was a man with a striking history, and was a very fine specimen of our best English manhood. In early life be emigrated to South Africa—sailing in the “Hebrides” on 4th February. 1850—and was one of the first settlers at the Cape; afterwards he went on to Australia at the time of the Gold Rush, and ultimately came home to his native England and settled down in Measham, in Leicestershire, where he carried on a successful business for the long period of half-a-century.

                      He was full of reminiscences of life in the Colonies in the early days, and an hour or two in his company was an education itself. On the occasion of the recall of Sir Harry Smith from the Governorship of Natal (for refusing to be a party to the slaying of the wives and children in connection with the Kaffir War), Mr. Orgill was appointed to superintend the arrangements for the farewell demonstration. It was one of his boasts that he made the first missionary cart used in South Africa, which is in use to this day—a monument to the character of his work; while it is an interesting fact to note that among Mr. Orgill’s papers there is the original ground-plan of the city of Durban before a single house was built.

                      In Africa Mr. Orgill came in contact with the great missionary, David Livingstone, and between the two men there was a striking resemblance in character and a deep and lasting friendship. Mr. Orgill could give a most graphic description of the wreck of the “Birkenhead,” having been in the vicinity at the time when the ill-fated vessel went down. He played a most prominent part on the occasion of the famous wreck of the emigrant ship, “Minerva.” when, in conjunction with some half-a-dozen others, and at the eminent risk of their own lives, they rescued more than 100 of the unfortunate passengers. He was afterwards presented with an interesting relic as a memento of that thrilling experience, being a copper bolt from the vessel on which was inscribed the following words: “Relic of the ship Minerva, wrecked off Bluff Point, Port Natal. 8.A.. about 2 a.m.. Friday, July 5, 1850.”

                      Mr. Orgill was followed to the Colonies by no fewer than six of his brothers, all of whom did well, and one of whom married a niece (brother’s daughter) of the late Mr. William Ewart Gladstone.

                      On settling down in Measham his kindly and considerate disposition soon won for him a unique place in the hearts of all the people, by whom he was greatly beloved. He was a man of sterling worth and integrity. Upright and honourable in all his dealings, he led a Christian life that was a pattern to all with whom he came in contact, and of him it could truly he said that he wore the white flower of a blameless life.

                      He was a member of the Baptist Church, and although beyond much active service since settling down in Nuneaton less than two years ago he leaves behind him a record in Christian service attained by few. In politics he was a Radical of the old school. A great reader, he studied all the questions of the day, and could back up every belief he held by sound and fearless argument. The South African – war was a great grief to him. He knew the Boers from personal experience, and although he suffered at the time of the war for his outspoken condemnation, he had the satisfaction of living to see the people of England fully recognising their awful blunder. To give anything like an adequate idea of Mr. Orgill’s history would take up a great amount of space, and besides much of it has been written and commented on before; suffice it to say that it was strenuous, interesting, and eventful, and yet all through his hands remained unspotted and his heart was pure.

                      He is survived by three daughters, and was father-in-law to Mr. J. S. Massey. St Kilda. Manor Court Road, to whom deep and loving sympathy is extended in their sore bereavement by a wide circle of friends. The funeral is arranged to leave for Measham on Monday at twelve noon.

                       

                      “To give anything like an adequate idea of Mr. Orgill’s history would take up a great amount of space, and besides much of it has been written and commented on before…”

                      I had another look in the newspaper archives and found a number of articles mentioning him, including an intriguing excerpt in an article about local history published in the Burton Observer and Chronicle 8 August 1963:

                      on an upstairs window pane he scratched with his diamond ring “Matthew Orgill, 1st July, 1858”

                      Matthew Orgill window

                      Matthew orgill window 2

                       

                      I asked on a Measham facebook group if anyone knew the location of the house mentioned in the article and someone kindly responded. This is the same building, seen from either side:

                      Measham Wharf

                       

                      Coincidentally, I had already found this wonderful photograph of the same building, taken in 1910 ~ three years after Matthew’s death.

                      Old Measham wharf

                       

                      But what to make of the inscription in the window?

                      Matthew and Mary married in October 1856, and their first child (according to the records I’d found thus far) was a daughter Mary born in 1860.  I had a look for a Matthew Orgill birth registered in 1858, the date Matthew had etched on the window, and found a death for a Matthew Orgill in 1859.  Assuming I would find the birth of Matthew Orgill registered on the first of July 1958, to match the etching in the window, the corresponding birth was in July 1857!

                      Matthew and Mary had four children. Matthew, Mary, Clara and Hannah.  Hannah Proudman Orgill married Joseph Stanton Massey.  The Orgill name continues with their son Stanley Orgill Massey 1900-1979, who was a doctor and surgeon.  Two of Stanley’s four sons were doctors, Paul Mackintosh Orgill Massey 1929-2009, and Michael Joseph Orgill Massey 1932-1989.

                       

                      Mary Orgill 1827-1894, Matthews wife, was an Orgill too.

                      And this is where the Orgill branch of the tree gets complicated.

                      Mary’s father was Henry Orgill born in 1805 and her mother was Hannah Proudman born in 1805.
                      Henry Orgill’s father was Matthew Orgill born in 1769 and his mother was Frances Finch born in 1771.

                      Mary’s husband Matthews parents are Matthew Orgill born in 1798 and Elizabeth Orgill born in 1803.

                      Another Orgill Orgill marriage!

                      Matthews parents,  Matthew and Elizabeth, have the same grandparents as each other, Matthew Orgill born in 1736 and Ann Proudman born in 1735.

                      But Matthews grandparents are none other than Matthew Orgill born in 1769 and Frances Finch born in 1771 ~ the same grandparents as his wife Mary!

                      #6285
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Harriet Compton

                        Harriet Comptom is not directly related to us, but her portrait is in our family collection.

                        Alfred Julius Eugene Compton painted this portrait of his daughter, Harriet Compton, when she was six.  Harriet Compton was Charles Tooby’s mothers mother, and Charles married my mothers aunt Dorothy Marshall. They lived on High Park Ave in Wollaston, and his parents lived on Park Road, Wollaston, opposite my grandparents, George and Nora Marshall. Harriet married Thomas Thornburgh, they had a daughter Florence who married Sydney Tooby. Florence and Sydney were Charles Tooby’s parents.

                        Charles and Dorothy Tooby didn’t have any children. Charles died before his wife, and this is how the picture ended up in my mothers possession.

                        I attempted to find a direct descendant of Harriet Compton, but have not been successful so far, although I did find a relative on a Stourbridge facebook group.  Bryan Thornburgh replied: “Francis George was my grandfather.He had two sons George & my father Thomas and two daughters Cissie & Edith.  I can remember visiting my fathers Uncle Charles and Aunt Dorothy in Wollaston.”

                        Francis George Thornburgh was Florence Tooby’s brother.

                        The watercolour portrait was framed by Hughes of Enville St, Stourbridge.

                        Alfred Julius Eugene Compton was born in 1826 Paris, France, and died on 6 February 1917 in Chelsea, London.
                        Harriet Compton his daughter was born in 1853 in Islington, London, and died in December 1926 in Stourbridge.

                        Without going too far down an unrelated rabbit hole, a member of the facebook group Family Treasures Reinstated  shared this:

                        “Will reported in numerous papers in Dec 1886.
                        Harriet’s father Alfred appears to be beneficiary but Harriet’s brother, Percy is specifically excluded . 
                        “The will (dated March 6, 1876) of the Hon. Mrs. Fanny Stanhope, late of No. 24, Carlyle-square, Chelsea, who died on August 9 last, was proved on the 1st ult. by Alfred Julius Eugene Compton, the value of the personal estate amounting to over £8000.
                        The testatrix, after giving & few legacies, leaves one moiety of the residue of her personal estate, upon trust, for John Auguste Alexandre Compton, for life, and then, subject to an annuity to his wife, for the children (except Percy) of Alfred Julius Eugene Compton, and the other moiety, upon trust, for the said Alfred Julius Eugene Compton, for life, and at his death for his children, except Percy.”
                        -Illustrated London News.

                        Harriet Compton:  Harriet Compton

                        #6284
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                        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.

                          #6283
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Purdy Cousins

                             

                            My great grandmother Mary Ann Gilman Purdy was one of five children.  Her sister Ellen Purdy was a well traveled nurse, and her sister Kate Rushby was a publican whose son who went to Africa. But what of her eldest sister Elizabeth and her brother Richard?

                             

                            Elizabeth Purdy 1869-1905 married Benjamin George Little in 1892 in Basford, Nottinghamshire.  Their first child, Frieda Olive Little, was born in Eastwood in December 1896, and their second daughter Catherine Jane Little was born in Warrington, Cheshire, in 1898. A third daughter, Edna Francis Little was born in 1900, but died three months later.

                            When I noticed that this unidentified photograph in our family collection was taken by a photographer in Warrington,  and as no other family has been found in Warrington, I concluded that these two little girls are Frieda and Catherine:

                            Catherine and Frieda Little

                             

                            Benjamin Little, born in 1869, was the manager of a boot shop, according to the 1901 census, and a boot maker on the 1911 census. I found a photograph of Benjamin and Elizabeth Little on an ancestry website:

                            Benjamin and Elizabeth Little

                             

                            Frieda Olive Little 1896-1977 married Robert Warburton in 1924.

                            Frieda and Robert had two sons and a daughter, although one son died in infancy.  They lived in Leominster, in Herefordshire, but Frieda died in 1977 at Enfield Farm in Warrington, four years after the death of her husband Robert.

                            Catherine Jane Little 1899-1975 married Llewelyn Robert Prince 1884-1950.  They do not appear to have had any children.  Llewelyn was manager of the National Provinical Bank at Eltham in London, but died at Brook Cottage in Kingsland, Herefordshire.  His wifes aunt Ellen Purdy the nurse had also lived at Brook Cottage.  Ellen died in 1947, but her husband Frank Garbett was at the funeral:

                            Llewelyn Prince

                             

                            Richard Purdy 1877-1940

                            Richard was born in Eastwood, Nottinghamshire. When his mother Catherine died in 1884 Richard was six years old.  My great grandmother Mary Ann and her sister Ellen went to live with the Gilman’s in Buxton, but Richard and the two older sisters, Elizabeth and Kate, stayed with their father George Purdy, who remarried soon afterwards.

                            Richard married Ada Elizabeth Clarke in 1899.  In 1901 Richard was an earthenware packer at a pottery, and on the 1939 census he was a colliery dataller.  A dataller was a day wage man, paid on a daily basis for work done as required.

                            Richard and Ada had four children: Richard Baden Purdy 1900-1945, Winifred Maude 1903-1974, John Frederick 1907-1945, and Violet Gertrude 1910-1974.

                            Richard Baden Purdy married Ethel May Potter in Mansfield, Nottinghamshire, in 1926.  He was listed on the 1939 census as a colliery deputy.  In 1945 Richard Baden Purdy died as a result of injuries in a mine explosion.

                            Richard Baden Purdy

                             

                            John Frederick Purdy married Iris Merryweather in 1938. On the 1939 census John and Iris live in Arnold, Nottinghamshire, and John’s occupation is a colliery hewer.  Their daughter Barbara Elizabeth was born later that year.  John died in 1945, the same year as his brother Richard Baden Purdy. It is not known without purchasing the death certificate what the cause of death was.

                            A memorial was posted in the Nottingham Evening Post on 29 June 1948:

                            PURDY, loving memories, Richard Baden, accidentally killed June 29th 1945; John Frederick, died 1 April 1945; Richard Purdy, father, died December 1940. Too dearly loved to be forgotten. Mother, families.

                            Violet Gertrude Purdy married Sidney Garland in 1932 in Southwell, Nottinghamshire.  She died in Edwinstowe, Nottinghamshire, in 1974.

                            Winifred Maude Purdy married Bernard Fowler in Southwell in 1928.  She also died in 1974, in Mansfield.

                            The two brothers died the same year, in 1945, and the two sisters died the same year, in 1974.

                            #6277
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              William Housley the Elder

                              Intestate

                              William Housley of Kidsley Grange Farm in Smalley, Derbyshire, was born in 1781 in Selston,  just over the county border in Nottinghamshire.  His father was also called William Housley, and he was born in Selston in 1735.  It would appear from the records that William the father married late in life and only had one son (unless of course other records are missing or have not yet been found).  Never the less, William Housley of Kidsley was the eldest son, or eldest surviving son, evident from the legal document written in 1816 regarding William the fathers’ estate.

                              William Housley died in Smalley in 1815, intestate.  William the son claims that “he is the natural and lawful son of the said deceased and the person entitled to letters of administration of his goods and personal estate”.

                              Derby the 16th day of April 1816:

                              William Housley intestate

                              William Housley intestate 2

                               

                              I transcribed three pages of this document, which was mostly repeated legal jargon. It appears that William Housley the elder died intestate, but that William the younger claimed that he was the sole heir.  £1200 is mentioned to be held until the following year until such time that there is certainty than no will was found and so on. On the last page “no more than £600” is mentioned and I can’t quite make out why both figures are mentioned!  However, either would have been a considerable sum in 1816.

                              I also found a land tax register in William Housley’s the elders name in Smalley (as William the son would have been too young at the time, in 1798).  William the elder was an occupant of one of his properties, and paid tax on two others, with other occupants named, so presumably he owned three properties in Smalley.

                              The only likely marriage for William Housley was in Selston. William Housley married Elizabeth Woodhead in 1777. It was a miracle that I found it, because the transcription on the website said 1797, which would have been too late to be ours, as William the son was born in 1781, but for some reason I checked the image and found that it was clearly 1777, listed between entries for 1776 and 1778. (I reported the transcription error.)  There were no other William Housley marriages recorded during the right time frame in Selston or in the vicinity.

                              I found a birth registered for William the elder in Selston in 1735.  Notwithstanding there may be pages of the register missing or illegible, in the absence of any other baptism registration, we must assume this is our William, in which case he married rather late in his 40s.  It would seem he didn’t have a previous wife, as William the younger claims to be the sole heir to his fathers estate.  I haven’t found any other children registered to the couple, which is also unusual, and the only death I can find for an Elizabeth Housley prior to 1815 (as William the elder was a widower when he died) is in Selston in 1812.  I’m not convinced that this is the death of William’s wife, however, as they were living in Smalley ~ at least, they were living in Smalley in 1798, according to the tax register, and William was living in Smalley when he died in 1815.

                              #6275
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                              Participant

                                “AND NOW ABOUT EMMA”

                                and a mystery about George

                                 

                                I had overlooked this interesting part of Barbara Housley’s “Narrative on the Letters” initially, perhaps because I was more focused on finding Samuel Housley.  But when I did eventually notice, I wondered how I had missed it!  In this particularly interesting letter excerpt from Joseph, Barbara has not put the date of the letter ~ unusually, because she did with all of the others.  However I dated the letter to later than 1867, because Joseph mentions his wife, and they married in 1867. This is important, because there are two Emma Housleys. Joseph had a sister Emma, born in 1836, two years before Joseph was born.  At first glance, one would assume that a reference to Emma in the letters would mean his sister, but Emma the sister was married in Derby in 1858, and by 1869 had four children.

                                But there was another Emma Housley, born in 1851.

                                 

                                From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

                                “AND NOW ABOUT EMMA”

                                A MYSTERY

                                A very mysterious comment is contained in a letter from Joseph:

                                “And now about Emma.  I have only seen her once and she came to me to get your address but I did not feel at liberty to give it to her until I had wrote to you but however she got it from someone.  I think it was in this way.  I was so pleased to hear from you in the first place and with John’s family coming to see me I let them read one or two of your letters thinking they would like to hear of you and I expect it was Will that noticed your address and gave it to her.  She came up to our house one day when I was at work to know if I had heard from you but I had not heard from you since I saw her myself and then she called again after that and my wife showed her your boys’ portraits thinking no harm in doing so.”

                                At this point Joseph interrupted himself to thank them for sending the portraits.  The next sentence is:

                                “Your son JOHN I have never seen to know him but I hear he is rather wild,” followed by: “EMMA has been living out service but don’t know where she is now.”

                                Since Joseph had just been talking about the portraits of George’s three sons, one of whom is John Eley, this could be a reference to things George has written in despair about a teen age son–but could Emma be a first wife and John their son?  Or could Emma and John both be the children of a first wife?

                                Elsewhere, Joseph wrote, “AMY ELEY died 14 years ago. (circa 1858)  She left a son and a daughter.”

                                An Amey Eley and a George Housley were married on April 1, 1849 in Duffield which is about as far west of Smalley as Heanor is East.  She was the daughter of John, a framework knitter, and Sarah Eley.  George’s father is listed as William, a farmer.  Amey was described as “of full age” and made her mark on the marriage document.

                                Anne wrote in August 1854:  “JOHN ELEY is living at Derby Station so must take the first opportunity to get the receipt.” Was John Eley Housley named for him?

                                (John Eley Housley is George Housley’s son in USA, with his second wife, Sarah.)

                                 

                                George Housley married Amey Eley in 1849 in Duffield.  George’s father on the register is William Housley, farmer.  Amey Eley’s father is John Eley, framework knitter.

                                George Housley Amey Eley

                                 

                                On the 1851 census, George Housley and his wife Amey Housley are living with her parents in Heanor, John Eley, a framework knitter, and his wife Rebecca.  Also on the census are Charles J Housley, born in 1849 in Heanor, and Emma Housley, three months old at the time of the census, born in 1851.  George’s birth place is listed as Smalley.

                                1851 George Housley

                                 

                                 

                                On the 31st of July 1851 George Housley arrives in New York. In 1854 George Housley marries Sarah Ann Hill in USA.

                                 

                                On the 1861 census in Heanor, Rebecca Eley was a widow, her husband John having died in 1852, and she had three grandchildren living with her: Charles J Housley aged 12, Emma Housley, 10, and mysteriously a William Housley aged 5!  Amey Housley, the childrens mother,  died in 1858.

                                Housley Eley 1861

                                 

                                Back to the mysterious comment in Joseph’s letter.  Joseph couldn’t have been speaking of his sister Emma.  She was married with children by the time Joseph wrote that letter, so was not just out of service, and Joseph would have known where she was.   There is no reason to suppose that the sister Emma was trying unsuccessfully to find George’s addresss: she had been sending him letters for years.   Joseph must have been referring to George’s daughter Emma.

                                Joseph comments to George “Your son John…is rather wild.” followed by the remark about Emma’s whereabouts.  Could Charles John Housley have used his middle name of John instead of Charles?

                                As for the child William born five years after George left for USA, despite his name of Housley, which was his mothers married name, we can assume that he was not a Housley ~ not George’s child, anyway. It is not clear who his father was, as Amey did not remarry.

                                A further excerpt from Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

                                Certainly there was some mystery in George’s life. George apparently wanted his whereabouts kept secret. Anne wrote: “People are at a loss to know where you are. The general idea is you are with Charles. We don’t satisfy them.” In that same letter Anne wrote: “I know you could not help thinking of us very often although you neglected writing…and no doubt would feel grieved for the trouble you at times caused (our mother). She freely forgives all.” Near the end of the letter, Anne added: “Mother sends her love to you and hopes you will write and if you want to tell her anything you don’t want all to see you must write it on a piece of loose paper and put it inside the letter.”

                                In a letter to George from his sister Emma:

                                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.”

                                It would seem that George Housley named his first son with his second wife after his first wife’s father ~ while he was married to both of them.

                                 

                                Emma Housley

                                1851-1935

                                 

                                In 1871 Emma was 20 years old and “in service” living as a lodger in West Hallam, not far from Heanor.  As she didn’t appear on a 1881 census, I looked for a marriage, but the only one that seemed right in every other way had Emma Housley’s father registered as Ralph Wibberly!

                                Who was Ralph Wibberly?  A family friend or neighbour, perhaps, someone who had been a father figure?  The first Ralph Wibberly I found was a blind wood cutter living in Derby. He had a son also called Ralph Wibberly. I did not think Ralph Wibberly would be a very common name, but I was wrong.

                                I then found a Ralph Wibberly living in Heanor, with a son also named Ralph Wibberly. A Ralph Wibberly married an Emma Salt from Heanor. In 1874, a 36 year old Ralph Wibberly (born in 1838) was on trial in Derby for inflicting grevious bodily harm on William Fretwell of Heanor. His occupation is “platelayer” (a person employed in laying and maintaining railway track.) The jury found him not guilty.

                                In 1851 a 23 year old Ralph Wibberly (born in 1828) was a prisoner in Derby Gaol. However, Ralph Wibberly, a 50 year old labourer born in 1801 and his son Ralph Wibberly, aged 13 and born in 1838, are living in Belper on the 1851 census. Perhaps the son was the same Ralph Wibberly who was found not guilty of GBH in 1874. This appears to be the one who married Emma Salt, as his wife on the 1871 census is called Emma, and his occupation is “Midland Company Railway labourer”.

                                Which was the Ralph Wibberly that Emma chose to name as her father on the marriage register? We may never know, but perhaps we can assume it was Ralph Wibberly born in 1801.  It is unlikely to be the blind wood cutter from Derby; more likely to be the local Ralph Wibberly.  Maybe his son Ralph, who we know was involved in a fight in 1874, was a friend of Emma’s brother Charles John, who was described by Joseph as a “wild one”, although Ralph was 11 years older than Charles John.

                                Emma Housley married James Slater on Christmas day in Heanor in 1873.  Their first child, a daughter, was called Amy. Emma’s mother was Amy Eley. James Slater was a colliery brakesman (employed to work the steam-engine, or other machinery used in raising the coal from the mine.)

                                It occurred to me to wonder if Emma Housley (George’s daughter) knew Elizabeth, Mary Anne and Catherine (Samuel’s daughters). They were cousins, lived in the vicinity, and they had in common with each other having been deserted by their fathers who were brothers. Emma was born two years after Catherine. Catherine was living with John Benniston, a framework knitter in Heanor, from 1851 to 1861. Emma was living with her grandfather John Ely, a framework knitter in Heanor. In 1861, George Purdy was also living in Heanor. He was listed on the census as a 13 year old coal miner! George Purdy and Catherine Housley married in 1866 in Eastwood, Nottinghamshire ~ just over the county border. Emma’s first child Amy was born in Heanor, but the next two children, Eliza and Lilly, were born in Eastwood, in 1878 and 1880. Catherine and George’s fifth child, my great grandmother Mary Ann Gilman Purdy, was born in Eastwood in 1880, the same year as Lilly Slater.

                                By 1881 Emma and James Slater were living in Woodlinkin, Codnor and Loscoe, close to Heanor and Eastwood, on the Derbyshire side of the border. On each census up to 1911 their address on the census is Woodlinkin. Emma and James had nine children: six girls and 3 boys, the last, Alfred Frederick, born in 1901.

                                Emma and James lived three doors up from the Thorn Tree pub in Woodlinkin, Codnor:

                                Woodlinkin

                                 

                                Emma Slater died in 1935 at the age of 84.

                                 

                                IN
                                LOVING MEMORY OF
                                EMMA SLATER
                                (OF WOODLINKIN)
                                WHO DIED
                                SEPT 12th 1935
                                AGED 84 YEARS
                                AT REST

                                Crosshill Cemetery, Codnor, Amber Valley Borough, Derbyshire, England:

                                Emma Slater

                                 

                                Charles John Housley

                                1949-

                                #6272
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                                  The Housley Letters

                                  The Carringtons

                                  Carrington Farm, Smalley:

                                  Carrington Farm

                                   

                                  Ellen Carrington was born in 1795. Her father William Carrington 1755-1833 was from Smalley. Her mother Mary Malkin 1765-1838 was from Ellastone, in Staffordshire.  Ellastone is on the Derbyshire border and very close to Ashboure, where Ellen married William Housley.

                                   

                                  From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

                                  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.

                                  The letters refer to a variety of “uncles” who were probably Ellen’s brothers, but could be her uncles. These include:

                                  RICHARD

                                  Probably the youngest Uncle, and certainly the most significant, is Richard. He was a trustee for some of the property which needed to be settled following Ellen’s death. Anne wrote in 1854 that Uncle Richard “has got a new house built” and his daughters are “fine dashing young ladies–the belles of Smalley.” Then she added, “Aunt looks as old as my mother.”

                                  Richard was born somewhere between 1808 and 1812. Since Richard was a contemporary of the older Housley children, “Aunt,” who was three years younger, should not look so old!

                                  Richard Carrington and Harriet Faulkner were married in Repton in 1833. A daughter Elizabeth was baptised March 24, 1834. In July 1872, Joseph wrote: “Elizabeth is married too and a large family and is living in Uncle Thomas’s house for he is dead.” Elizabeth married Ayres (Eyres) Clayton of Lascoe. His occupation was listed as joiner and shopkeeper. They were married before 1864 since Elizabeth Clayton witnessed her sister’s marriage. Their children in April 1871 were Selina (1863), Agnes Maria (1866) and Elizabeth Ann (1868). A fourth daughter, Alice Augusta, was born in 1872 or 1873, probably by July 1872 to fit Joseph’s description “large family”! A son Charles Richard was born in 1880.

                                  An Elizabeth Ann Clayton married John Arthur Woodhouse on May 12, 1913. He was a carpenter. His father was a miner. Elizabeth Ann’s father, Ayres, was also a carpenter. John Arthur’s age was given as 25. Elizabeth Ann’s age was given as 33 or 38. However, if she was born in 1868, her age would be 45. Possibly this is another case of a child being named for a deceased sibling. If she were 38 and born in 1875, she would fill the gap between Alice Augusta and Charles Richard.

                                  Selina Clayton, who would have been 18, is not listed in the household in 1881. She died on June 11, 1914 at age 51. Agnes Maria Clayton died at the age of 25 and was buried March 31, 1891. Charles Richard died at the age of 5 and was buried on February 4, 1886. A Charles James Clayton, 18 months, was buried June 8, 1889 in Heanor.

                                  Richard Carrington’s second daughter, Selina, born in 1837, married Walker Martin (b.1835) on February 11, 1864 and they were living at Kidsley Park Farm in 1872, according to a letter from Joseph, and, according to the census, were still there in 1881. This 100 acre farm was formerly the home of Daniel Smith and his daughter Elizabeth Davy Barber. Selina and Walker had at least five children: Elizabeth Ann (1865), Harriet Georgianna (1866/7), Alice Marian (September 6, 1868), Philip Richard (1870), and Walker (1873). In December 1972, Joseph mentioned the death of Philip Walker, a farmer of Prospect Farm, Shipley. This was probably Walker Martin’s grandfather, since Walker was born in Shipley. The stock was to be sold the following Monday, but his daughter (Walker’s mother?) died the next day. Walker’s father was named Thomas. An Annie Georgianna Martin age 13 of Shipley died in April of 1859.

                                  Selina Martin died on October 29, 1906 but her estate was not settled until November 14, 1910. Her gross estate was worth L223.56. Her son Walker and her daughter Harriet Georgiana were her trustees and executers. Walker was to get Selina’s half of Richard’s farm. Harriet Georgiana and Alice Marian were to be allowed to live with him. Philip Richard received L25. Elizabeth Ann was already married to someone named Smith.

                                  Richard and Harriet may also have had a son George. In 1851 a Harriet Carrington and her three year old son George were living with her step-father John Benniston in Heanor. John may have been recently widowed and needed her help. Or, the Carrington home may have been inadequate since Anne reported a new one was built by 1854. Selina’s second daughter’s name testifies to the presence of a “George” in the family! Could the death of this son account for the haggard appearance Anne described when she wrote: “Aunt looks as old as my mother?”
                                  Harriet was buried May 19, 1866. She was 55 when she died.

                                  In 1881, Georgianna then 14, was living with her grandfather and his niece, Zilpah Cooper, age 38–who lived with Richard on his 63 acre farm as early as 1871. A Zilpah, daughter of William and Elizabeth, was christened October 1843. Her brother, William Walter, was christened in 1846 and married Anna Maria Saint in 1873. There are four Selina Coopers–one had a son William Thomas Bartrun Cooper christened in 1864; another had a son William Cooper christened in 1873.

                                  Our Zilpah was born in Bretley 1843. She died at age 49 and was buried on September 24, 1892. In her will, which was witnessed by Selina Martin, Zilpah’s sister, Frances Elizabeth Cleave, wife of Horatio Cleave of Leicester is mentioned. James Eley and Francis Darwin Huish (Richard’s soliciter) were executers.

                                  Richard died June 10, 1892, and was buried on June 13. He was 85. As might be expected, Richard’s will was complicated. Harriet Georgiana Martin and Zilpah Cooper were to share his farm. If neither wanted to live there it was to go to Georgiana’s cousin Selina Clayton. However, Zilpah died soon after Richard. Originally, he left his piano, parlor and best bedroom furniture to his daughter Elizabeth Clayton. Then he revoked everything but the piano. He arranged for the payment of £150 which he owed. Later he added a codicil explaining that the debt was paid but he had borrowed £200 from someone else to do it!

                                  Richard left a good deal of property including: The house and garden in Smalley occupied by Eyres Clayton with four messuages and gardens adjoining and large garden below and three messuages at the south end of the row with the frame work knitters shop and garden adjoining; a dwelling house used as a public house with a close of land; a small cottage and garden and four cottages and shop and gardens.

                                   

                                  THOMAS

                                  In August 1854, Anne wrote “Uncle Thomas is about as usual.” A Thomas Carrington married a Priscilla Walker in 1810.

                                  Their children were baptised in August 1830 at the same time as the Housley children who at that time ranged in age from 3 to 17. The oldest of Thomas and Priscilla’s children, Henry, was probably at least 17 as he was married by 1836. Their youngest son, William Thomas, born 1830, may have been Mary Ellen Weston’s beau. However, the only Richard whose christening is recorded (1820), was the son of Thomas and Lucy. In 1872 Joseph reported that Richard’s daughter Elizabeth was married and living in Uncle Thomas’s house. In 1851, Alfred Smith lived in house 25, Foulks lived in 26, Thomas and Priscilla lived in 27, Bennetts lived in 28, Allard lived in 29 and Day lived in 30. Thomas and Priscilla do not appear in 1861. In 1871 Elizabeth Ann and Ayres Clayton lived in House 54. None of the families listed as neighbors in 1851 remained. However, Joseph Carrington, who lived in house 19 in 1851, lived in house 51 in 1871.

                                   

                                  JOHN

                                  In August 1854, Anne wrote: “Uncle John is with Will and Frank has been home in a comfortable place in Cotmanhay.” Although John and William are two of the most popular Carrington names, only two John’s have sons named William. John and Rachel Buxton Carrington had a son William christened in 1788. At the time of the letters this John would have been over 100 years old. Their son John and his wife Ann had a son William who was born in 1805. However, this William age 46 was living with his widowed mother in 1851. A Robert Carrington and his wife Ann had a son John born 1n 1805. He would be the right age to be a brother to Francis Carrington discussed below. This John was living with his widowed mother in 1851 and was unmarried. There are no known Williams in this family grouping. A William Carrington of undiscovered parentage was born in 1821. It is also possible that the Will in question was Anne’s brother Will Housley.

                                  –Two Francis Carringtons appear in the 1841 census both of them aged 35. One is living with Richard and Harriet Carrington. The other is living next door to Samuel and Ellen Carrington Kerry (the trustee for “father’s will”!). The next name in this sequence is John Carrington age 15 who does not seem to live with anyone! but may be part of the Kerry household.

                                  FRANK (see above)

                                  While Anne did not preface her mention of the name Frank with an “Uncle,” Joseph referred to Uncle Frank and James Carrington in the same sentence. A James Carrington was born in 1814 and had a wife Sarah. He worked as a framework knitter. James may have been a son of William and Anne Carrington. He lived near Richard according to the 1861 census. Other children of William and Anne are Hannah (1811), William (1815), John (1816), and Ann (1818). An Ann Carrington married a Frank Buxton in 1819. This might be “Uncle Frank.”

                                  An Ellen Carrington was born to John and Rachel Carrington in 1785. On October 25, 1809, a Samuel Kerry married an Ellen Carrington. However this Samuel Kerry is not the trustee involved in settling Ellen’s estate. John Carrington died July 1815.

                                  William and Mary Carrington:

                                  William Carrington

                                  #6271
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                                    The Housley Letters

                                    FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS

                                    from Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

                                     

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

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

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

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

                                    Lyon 1861 census

                                     

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

                                     

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                    In The Derbyshire Advertiser and Journal, 15 May 1863:

                                    Davy Death

                                     

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

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

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

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

                                    Kiddsley Park Farm

                                     

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

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

                                    #6269
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                                      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.

                                        #6266
                                        TracyTracy
                                        Participant

                                          From Tanganyika with Love

                                          continued part 7

                                          With thanks to Mike Rushby.

                                          Oldeani Hospital. 19th September 1938

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          George arrived today to take us home to Mbulu but Sister Marianne will not allow
                                          me to travel for another week as I had a bit of a set back after baby’s birth. At first I was
                                          very fit and on the third day Sister stripped the bed and, dictionary in hand, started me
                                          off on ante natal exercises. “Now make a bridge Mrs Rushby. So. Up down, up down,’
                                          whilst I obediently hoisted myself aloft on heels and head. By the sixth day she
                                          considered it was time for me to be up and about but alas, I soon had to return to bed
                                          with a temperature and a haemorrhage. I got up and walked outside for the first time this
                                          morning.

                                          I have had lots of visitors because the local German settlers seem keen to see
                                          the first British baby born in the hospital. They have been most kind, sending flowers
                                          and little German cards of congratulations festooned with cherubs and rather sweet. Most
                                          of the women, besides being pleasant, are very smart indeed, shattering my illusion that
                                          German matrons are invariably fat and dowdy. They are all much concerned about the
                                          Czecko-Slovakian situation, especially Sister Marianne whose home is right on the
                                          border and has several relations who are Sudentan Germans. She is ant-Nazi and
                                          keeps on asking me whether I think England will declare war if Hitler invades Czecko-
                                          Slovakia, as though I had inside information.

                                          George tells me that he has had a grass ‘banda’ put up for us at Mbulu as we are
                                          both determined not to return to those prison-like quarters in the Fort. Sister Marianne is
                                          horrified at the idea of taking a new baby to live in a grass hut. She told George,
                                          “No,No,Mr Rushby. I find that is not to be allowed!” She is an excellent Sister but rather
                                          prim and George enjoys teasing her. This morning he asked with mock seriousness,
                                          “Sister, why has my wife not received her medal?” Sister fluttered her dictionary before
                                          asking. “What medal Mr Rushby”. “Why,” said George, “The medal that Hitler gives to
                                          women who have borne four children.” Sister started a long and involved explanation
                                          about the medal being only for German mothers whilst George looked at me and
                                          grinned.

                                          Later. Great Jubilation here. By the noise in Sister Marianne’s sitting room last night it
                                          sounded as though the whole German population had gathered to listen to the wireless
                                          news. I heard loud exclamations of joy and then my bedroom door burst open and
                                          several women rushed in. “Thank God “, they cried, “for Neville Chamberlain. Now there
                                          will be no war.” They pumped me by the hand as though I were personally responsible
                                          for the whole thing.

                                          George on the other hand is disgusted by Chamberlain’s lack of guts. Doesn’t
                                          know what England is coming to these days. I feel too content to concern myself with
                                          world affairs. I have a fine husband and four wonderful children and am happy, happy,
                                          happy.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Mbulu. 30th September 1938

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          Here we are, comfortably installed in our little green house made of poles and
                                          rushes from a nearby swamp. The house has of course, no doors or windows, but
                                          there are rush blinds which roll up in the day time. There are two rooms and a little porch
                                          and out at the back there is a small grass kitchen.

                                          Here we have the privacy which we prize so highly as we are screened on one
                                          side by a Forest Department plantation and on the other three sides there is nothing but
                                          the rolling countryside cropped bare by the far too large herds of cattle and goats of the
                                          Wambulu. I have a lovely lazy time. I still have Kesho-Kutwa and the cook we brought
                                          with us from the farm. They are both faithful and willing souls though not very good at
                                          their respective jobs. As one of these Mbeya boys goes on safari with George whose
                                          job takes him from home for three weeks out of four, I have taken on a local boy to cut
                                          firewood and heat my bath water and generally make himself useful. His name is Saa,
                                          which means ‘Clock’

                                          We had an uneventful but very dusty trip from Oldeani. Johnny Jo travelled in his
                                          pram in the back of the boxbody and got covered in dust but seems none the worst for
                                          it. As the baby now takes up much of my time and Kate was showing signs of
                                          boredom, I have engaged a little African girl to come and play with Kate every morning.
                                          She is the daughter of the head police Askari and a very attractive and dignified little
                                          person she is. Her name is Kajyah. She is scrupulously clean, as all Mohammedan
                                          Africans seem to be. Alas, Kajyah, though beautiful, is a bore. She simply does not
                                          know how to play, so they just wander around hand in hand.

                                          There are only two drawbacks to this little house. Mbulu is a very windy spot so
                                          our little reed house is very draughty. I have made a little tent of sheets in one corner of
                                          the ‘bedroom’ into which I can retire with Johnny when I wish to bathe or sponge him.
                                          The other drawback is that many insects are attracted at night by the lamp and make it
                                          almost impossible to read or sew and they have a revolting habit of falling into the soup.
                                          There are no dangerous wild animals in this area so I am not at all nervous in this
                                          flimsy little house when George is on safari. Most nights hyaenas come around looking
                                          for scraps but our dogs, Fanny and Paddy, soon see them off.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Mbulu. 25th October 1938

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          Great news! a vacancy has occurred in the Game Department. George is to
                                          transfer to it next month. There will be an increase in salary and a brighter prospect for
                                          the future. It will mean a change of scene and I shall be glad of that. We like Mbulu and
                                          the people here but the rains have started and our little reed hut is anything but water
                                          tight.

                                          Before the rain came we had very unpleasant dust storms. I think I told you that
                                          this is a treeless area and the grass which normally covers the veldt has been cropped
                                          to the roots by the hungry native cattle and goats. When the wind blows the dust
                                          collects in tall black columns which sweep across the country in a most spectacular
                                          fashion. One such dust devil struck our hut one day whilst we were at lunch. George
                                          swept Kate up in a second and held her face against his chest whilst I rushed to Johnny
                                          Jo who was asleep in his pram, and stooped over the pram to protect him. The hut
                                          groaned and creaked and clouds of dust blew in through the windows and walls covering
                                          our persons, food, and belongings in a black pall. The dogs food bowls and an empty
                                          petrol tin outside the hut were whirled up and away. It was all over in a moment but you
                                          should have seen what a family of sweeps we looked. George looked at our blackened
                                          Johnny and mimicked in Sister Marianne’s primmest tones, “I find that this is not to be
                                          allowed.”

                                          The first rain storm caught me unprepared when George was away on safari. It
                                          was a terrific thunderstorm. The quite violent thunder and lightening were followed by a
                                          real tropical downpour. As the hut is on a slight slope, the storm water poured through
                                          the hut like a river, covering the entire floor, and the roof leaked like a lawn sprinkler.
                                          Johnny Jo was snug enough in the pram with the hood raised, but Kate and I had a
                                          damp miserable night. Next morning I had deep drains dug around the hut and when
                                          George returned from safari he managed to borrow an enormous tarpaulin which is now
                                          lashed down over the roof.

                                          It did not rain during the next few days George was home but the very next night
                                          we were in trouble again. I was awakened by screams from Kate and hurriedly turned up
                                          the lamp to see that we were in the midst of an invasion of siafu ants. Kate’s bed was
                                          covered in them. Others appeared to be raining down from the thatch. I quickly stripped
                                          Kate and carried her across to my bed, whilst I rushed to the pram to see whether
                                          Johnny Jo was all right. He was fast asleep, bless him, and slept on through all the
                                          commotion, whilst I struggled to pick all the ants out of Kate’s hair, stopping now and
                                          again to attend to my own discomfort. These ants have a painful bite and seem to
                                          choose all the most tender spots. Kate fell asleep eventually but I sat up for the rest of
                                          the night to make sure that the siafu kept clear of the children. Next morning the servants
                                          dispersed them by laying hot ash.

                                          In spite of the dampness of the hut both children are blooming. Kate has rosy
                                          cheeks and Johnny Jo now has a fuzz of fair hair and has lost his ‘old man’ look. He
                                          reminds me of Ann at his age.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Iringa. 30th November 1938

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          Here we are back in the Southern Highlands and installed on the second floor of
                                          another German Fort. This one has been modernised however and though not so
                                          romantic as the Mbulu Fort from the outside, it is much more comfortable.We are all well
                                          and I am really proud of our two safari babies who stood up splendidly to a most trying
                                          journey North from Mbulu to Arusha and then South down the Great North Road to
                                          Iringa where we expect to stay for a month.

                                          At Arusha George reported to the headquarters of the Game Department and
                                          was instructed to come on down here on Rinderpest Control. There is a great flap on in
                                          case the rinderpest spread to Northern Rhodesia and possibly onwards to Southern
                                          Rhodesia and South Africa. Extra veterinary officers have been sent to this area to
                                          inoculate all the cattle against the disease whilst George and his African game Scouts will
                                          comb the bush looking for and destroying diseased game. If the rinderpest spreads,
                                          George says it may be necessary to shoot out all the game in a wide belt along the
                                          border between the Southern Highlands of Tanganyika and Northern Rhodesia, to
                                          prevent the disease spreading South. The very idea of all this destruction sickens us
                                          both.

                                          George left on a foot safari the day after our arrival and I expect I shall be lucky if I
                                          see him occasionally at weekends until this job is over. When rinderpest is under control
                                          George is to be stationed at a place called Nzassa in the Eastern Province about 18
                                          miles from Dar es Salaam. George’s orderly, who is a tall, cheerful Game Scout called
                                          Juma, tells me that he has been stationed at Nzassa and it is a frightful place! However I
                                          refuse to be depressed. I now have the cheering prospect of leave to England in thirty
                                          months time when we will be able to fetch Ann and George and be a proper family
                                          again. Both Ann and George look happy in the snapshots which mother-in-law sends
                                          frequently. Ann is doing very well at school and loves it.

                                          To get back to our journey from Mbulu. It really was quite an experience. It
                                          poured with rain most of the way and the road was very slippery and treacherous the
                                          120 miles between Mbulu and Arusha. This is a little used earth road and the drains are
                                          so blocked with silt as to be practically non existent. As usual we started our move with
                                          the V8 loaded to capacity. I held Johnny on my knee and Kate squeezed in between
                                          George and me. All our goods and chattels were in wooden boxes stowed in the back
                                          and the two houseboys and the two dogs had to adjust themselves to the space that
                                          remained. We soon ran into trouble and it took us all day to travel 47 miles. We stuck
                                          several times in deep mud and had some most nasty skids. I simply clutched Kate in
                                          one hand and Johnny Jo in the other and put my trust in George who never, under any
                                          circumstances, loses his head. Poor Johnny only got his meals when circumstances
                                          permitted. Unfortunately I had put him on a bottle only a few days before we left Mbulu
                                          and, as I was unable to buy either a primus stove or Thermos flask there we had to
                                          make a fire and boil water for each meal. Twice George sat out in the drizzle with a rain
                                          coat rapped over his head to protect a miserable little fire of wet sticks drenched with
                                          paraffin. Whilst we waited for the water to boil I pacified John by letting him suck a cube
                                          of Tate and Lyles sugar held between my rather grubby fingers. Not at all according to
                                          the book.

                                          That night George, the children and I slept in the car having dumped our boxes
                                          and the two servants in a deserted native hut. The rain poured down relentlessly all night
                                          and by morning the road was more of a morass than ever. We swerved and skidded
                                          alarmingly till eventually one of the wheel chains broke and had to be tied together with
                                          string which constantly needed replacing. George was so patient though he was wet
                                          and muddy and tired and both children were very good. Shortly before reaching the Great North Road we came upon Jack Gowan, the Stock Inspector from Mbulu. His car
                                          was bogged down to its axles in black mud. He refused George’s offer of help saying
                                          that he had sent his messenger to a nearby village for help.

                                          I hoped that conditions would be better on the Great North Road but how over
                                          optimistic I was. For miles the road runs through a belt of ‘black cotton soil’. which was
                                          churned up into the consistency of chocolate blancmange by the heavy lorry traffic which
                                          runs between Dodoma and Arusha. Soon the car was skidding more fantastically than
                                          ever. Once it skidded around in a complete semi circle so George decided that it would
                                          be safer for us all to walk whilst he negotiated the very bad patches. You should have
                                          seen me plodding along in the mud and drizzle with the baby in one arm and Kate
                                          clinging to the other. I was terrified of slipping with Johnny. Each time George reached
                                          firm ground he would return on foot to carry Kate and in this way we covered many bad
                                          patches.We were more fortunate than many other travellers. We passed several lorries
                                          ditched on the side of the road and one car load of German men, all elegantly dressed in
                                          lounge suits. One was busy with his camera so will have a record of their plight to laugh
                                          over in the years to come. We spent another night camping on the road and next day
                                          set out on the last lap of the journey. That also was tiresome but much better than the
                                          previous day and we made the haven of the Arusha Hotel before dark. What a picture
                                          we made as we walked through the hall in our mud splattered clothes! Even Johnny was
                                          well splashed with mud but no harm was done and both he and Kate are blooming.
                                          We rested for two days at Arusha and then came South to Iringa. Luckily the sun
                                          came out and though for the first day the road was muddy it was no longer so slippery
                                          and the second day found us driving through parched country and along badly
                                          corrugated roads. The further South we came, the warmer the sun which at times blazed
                                          through the windscreen and made us all uncomfortably hot. I have described the country
                                          between Arusha and Dodoma before so I shan’t do it again. We reached Iringa without
                                          mishap and after a good nights rest all felt full of beans.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Mchewe Estate, Mbeya. 7th January 1939.

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          You will be surprised to note that we are back on the farm! At least the children
                                          and I are here. George is away near the Rhodesian border somewhere, still on
                                          Rinderpest control.

                                          I had a pleasant time at Iringa, lots of invitations to morning tea and Kate had a
                                          wonderful time enjoying the novelty of playing with children of her own age. She is not
                                          shy but nevertheless likes me to be within call if not within sight. It was all very suburban
                                          but pleasant enough. A few days before Christmas George turned up at Iringa and
                                          suggested that, as he would be working in the Mbeya area, it might be a good idea for
                                          the children and me to move to the farm. I agreed enthusiastically, completely forgetting
                                          that after my previous trouble with the leopard I had vowed to myself that I would never
                                          again live alone on the farm.

                                          Alas no sooner had we arrived when Thomas, our farm headman, brought the
                                          news that there were now two leopards terrorising the neighbourhood, and taking dogs,
                                          goats and sheep and chickens. Traps and poisoned bait had been tried in vain and he
                                          was sure that the female was the same leopard which had besieged our home before.
                                          Other leopards said Thomas, came by stealth but this one advertised her whereabouts
                                          in the most brazen manner.

                                          George stayed with us on the farm over Christmas and all was quiet at night so I
                                          cheered up and took the children for walks along the overgrown farm paths. However on
                                          New Years Eve that darned leopard advertised her presence again with the most blood
                                          chilling grunts and snarls. Horrible! Fanny and Paddy barked and growled and woke up
                                          both children. Kate wept and kept saying, “Send it away mummy. I don’t like it.” Johnny
                                          Jo howled in sympathy. What a picnic. So now the whole performance of bodyguards
                                          has started again and ‘till George returns we confine our exercise to the garden.
                                          Our little house is still cosy and sweet but the coffee plantation looks very
                                          neglected. I wish to goodness we could sell it.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Nzassa 14th February 1939.

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          After three months of moving around with two small children it is heavenly to be
                                          settled in our own home, even though Nzassa is an isolated spot and has the reputation
                                          of being unhealthy.

                                          We travelled by car from Mbeya to Dodoma by now a very familiar stretch of
                                          country, but from Dodoma to Dar es Salaam by train which made a nice change. We
                                          spent two nights and a day in the Splendid Hotel in Dar es Salaam, George had some
                                          official visits to make and I did some shopping and we took the children to the beach.
                                          The bay is so sheltered that the sea is as calm as a pond and the water warm. It is
                                          wonderful to see the sea once more and to hear tugs hooting and to watch the Arab
                                          dhows putting out to sea with their oddly shaped sails billowing. I do love the bush, but
                                          I love the sea best of all, as you know.

                                          We made an early start for Nzassa on the 3rd. For about four miles we bowled
                                          along a good road. This brought us to a place called Temeke where George called on
                                          the District Officer. His house appears to be the only European type house there. The
                                          road between Temeke and the turn off to Nzassa is quite good, but the six mile stretch
                                          from the turn off to Nzassa is a very neglected bush road. There is nothing to be seen
                                          but the impenetrable bush on both sides with here and there a patch of swampy
                                          ground where rice is planted in the wet season.

                                          After about six miles of bumpy road we reached Nzassa which is nothing more
                                          than a sandy clearing in the bush. Our house however is a fine one. It was originally built
                                          for the District Officer and there is a small court house which is now George’s office. The
                                          District Officer died of blackwater fever so Nzassa was abandoned as an administrative
                                          station being considered too unhealthy for Administrative Officers but suitable as
                                          Headquarters for a Game Ranger. Later a bachelor Game Ranger was stationed here
                                          but his health also broke down and he has been invalided to England. So now the
                                          healthy Rushbys are here and we don’t mean to let the place get us down. So don’t
                                          worry.

                                          The house consists of three very large and airy rooms with their doors opening
                                          on to a wide front verandah which we shall use as a living room. There is also a wide
                                          back verandah with a store room at one end and a bathroom at the other. Both
                                          verandahs and the end windows of the house are screened my mosquito gauze wire
                                          and further protected by a trellis work of heavy expanded metal. Hasmani, the Game
                                          Scout, who has been acting as caretaker, tells me that the expanded metal is very
                                          necessary because lions often come out of the bush at night and roam around the
                                          house. Such a comforting thought!

                                          On our very first evening we discovered how necessary the mosquito gauze is.
                                          After sunset the air outside is thick with mosquitos from the swamps. About an acre of
                                          land has been cleared around the house. This is a sandy waste because there is no
                                          water laid on here and absolutely nothing grows here except a rather revolting milky
                                          desert bush called ‘Manyara’, and a few acacia trees. A little way from the house there is
                                          a patch of citrus trees, grape fruit, I think, but whether they ever bear fruit I don’t know.
                                          The clearing is bordered on three sides by dense dusty thorn bush which is
                                          ‘lousy with buffalo’ according to George. The open side is the road which leads down to
                                          George’s office and the huts for the Game Scouts. Only Hasmani and George’s orderly
                                          Juma and their wives and families live there, and the other huts provide shelter for the
                                          Game Scouts from the bush who come to Nzassa to collect their pay and for a short
                                          rest. I can see that my daily walk will always be the same, down the road to the huts and
                                          back! However I don’t mind because it is far too hot to take much exercise.

                                          The climate here is really tropical and worse than on the coast because the thick
                                          bush cuts us off from any sea breeze. George says it will be cooler when the rains start
                                          but just now we literally drip all day. Kate wears nothing but a cotton sun suit, and Johnny
                                          a napkin only, but still their little bodies are always moist. I have shorn off all Kate’s lovely
                                          shoulder length curls and got George to cut my hair very short too.

                                          We simply must buy a refrigerator. The butter, and even the cheese we bought
                                          in Dar. simply melted into pools of oil overnight, and all our meat went bad, so we are
                                          living out of tins. However once we get organised I shall be quite happy here. I like this
                                          spacious house and I have good servants. The cook, Hamisi Issa, is a Swahili from Lindi
                                          whom we engaged in Dar es Salaam. He is a very dignified person, and like most
                                          devout Mohammedan Cooks, keeps both his person and the kitchen spotless. I
                                          engaged the house boy here. He is rather a timid little body but is very willing and quite
                                          capable. He has an excessively plain but cheerful wife whom I have taken on as ayah. I
                                          do not really need help with the children but feel I must have a woman around just in
                                          case I go down with malaria when George is away on safari.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Nzassa 28th February 1939.

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          George’s birthday and we had a special tea party this afternoon which the
                                          children much enjoyed. We have our frig now so I am able to make jellies and provide
                                          them with really cool drinks.

                                          Our very first visitor left this morning after spending only one night here. He is Mr
                                          Ionides, the Game Ranger from the Southern Province. He acted as stand in here for a
                                          short while after George’s predecessor left for England on sick leave, and where he has
                                          since died. Mr Ionides returned here to hand over the range and office formally to
                                          George. He seems a strange man and is from all accounts a bit of a hermit. He was at
                                          one time an Officer in the Regular Army but does not look like a soldier, he wears the
                                          most extraordinary clothes but nevertheless contrives to look top-drawer. He was
                                          educated at Rugby and Sandhurst and is, I should say, well read. Ionides told us that he
                                          hated Nzassa, particularly the house which he thinks sinister and says he always slept
                                          down in the office.

                                          The house, or at least one bedroom, seems to have the same effect on Kate.
                                          She has been very nervous at night ever since we arrived. At first the children occupied
                                          the bedroom which is now George’s. One night, soon after our arrival, Kate woke up
                                          screaming to say that ‘something’ had looked at her through the mosquito net. She was
                                          in such a hysterical state that inspite of the heat and discomfort I was obliged to crawl into
                                          her little bed with her and remained there for the rest of the night.

                                          Next night I left a night lamp burning but even so I had to sit by her bed until she
                                          dropped off to sleep. Again I was awakened by ear-splitting screams and this time
                                          found Kate standing rigid on her bed. I lifted her out and carried her to a chair meaning to
                                          comfort her but she screeched louder than ever, “Look Mummy it’s under the bed. It’s
                                          looking at us.” In vain I pointed out that there was nothing at all there. By this time
                                          George had joined us and he carried Kate off to his bed in the other room whilst I got into
                                          Kate’s bed thinking she might have been frightened by a rat which might also disturb
                                          Johnny.

                                          Next morning our houseboy remarked that he had heard Kate screaming in the
                                          night from his room behind the kitchen. I explained what had happened and he must
                                          have told the old Scout Hasmani who waylaid me that afternoon and informed me quite
                                          seriously that that particular room was haunted by a ‘sheitani’ (devil) who hates children.
                                          He told me that whilst he was acting as caretaker before our arrival he one night had his
                                          wife and small daughter in the room to keep him company. He said that his small
                                          daughter woke up and screamed exactly as Kate had done! Silly coincidence I
                                          suppose, but such strange things happen in Africa that I decided to move the children
                                          into our room and George sleeps in solitary state in the haunted room! Kate now sleeps
                                          peacefully once she goes to sleep but I have to stay with her until she does.

                                          I like this house and it does not seem at all sinister to me. As I mentioned before,
                                          the rooms are high ceilinged and airy, and have cool cement floors. We have made one
                                          end of the enclosed verandah into the living room and the other end is the playroom for
                                          the children. The space in between is a sort of no-mans land taken over by the dogs as
                                          their special territory.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Nzassa 25th March 1939.

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          George is on safari down in the Rufigi River area. He is away for about three
                                          weeks in the month on this job. I do hate to see him go and just manage to tick over until
                                          he comes back. But what fun and excitement when he does come home.
                                          Usually he returns after dark by which time the children are in bed and I have
                                          settled down on the verandah with a book. The first warning is usually given by the
                                          dogs, Fanny and her son Paddy. They stir, sit up, look at each other and then go and sit
                                          side by side by the door with their noses practically pressed to the mosquito gauze and
                                          ears pricked. Soon I can hear the hum of the car, and so can Hasmani, the old Game
                                          Scout who sleeps on the back verandah with rifle and ammunition by his side when
                                          George is away. When he hears the car he turns up his lamp and hurries out to rouse
                                          Juma, the houseboy. Juma pokes up the fire and prepares tea which George always
                                          drinks whist a hot meal is being prepared. In the meantime I hurriedly comb my hair and
                                          powder my nose so that when the car stops I am ready to rush out and welcome
                                          George home. The boy and Hasmani and the garden boy appear to help with the
                                          luggage and to greet George and the cook, who always accompanies George on
                                          Safari. The home coming is always a lively time with much shouting of greetings.
                                          ‘Jambo’, and ‘Habari ya safari’, whilst the dogs, beside themselves with excitement,
                                          rush around like lunatics.

                                          As though his return were not happiness enough, George usually collects the
                                          mail on his way home so there is news of Ann and young George and letters from you
                                          and bundles of newspapers and magazines. On the day following his return home,
                                          George has to deal with official mail in the office but if the following day is a weekday we
                                          all, the house servants as well as ourselves, pile into the boxbody and go to Dar es
                                          Salaam. To us this means a mornings shopping followed by an afternoon on the beach.
                                          It is a bit cooler now that the rains are on but still very humid. Kate keeps chubby
                                          and rosy in spite of the climate but Johnny is too pale though sturdy enough. He is such
                                          a good baby which is just as well because Kate is a very demanding little girl though
                                          sunny tempered and sweet. I appreciate her company very much when George is
                                          away because we are so far off the beaten track that no one ever calls.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Nzassa 28th April 1939.

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          You all seem to wonder how I can stand the loneliness and monotony of living at
                                          Nzassa when George is on safari, but really and truly I do not mind. Hamisi the cook
                                          always goes on safari with George and then the houseboy Juma takes over the cooking
                                          and I do the lighter housework. the children are great company during the day, and when
                                          they are settled for the night I sit on the verandah and read or write letters or I just dream.
                                          The verandah is entirely enclosed with both wire mosquito gauze and a trellis
                                          work of heavy expanded metal, so I am safe from all intruders be they human, animal, or
                                          insect. Outside the air is alive with mosquitos and the cicadas keep up their monotonous
                                          singing all night long. My only companions on the verandah are the pale ghecco lizards
                                          on the wall and the two dogs. Fanny the white bull terrier, lies always near my feet
                                          dozing happily, but her son Paddy, who is half Airedale has a less phlegmatic
                                          disposition. He sits alert and on guard by the metal trellis work door. Often a lion grunts
                                          from the surrounding bush and then his hackles rise and he stands up stiffly with his nose
                                          pressed to the door. Old Hasmani from his bedroll on the back verandah, gives a little
                                          cough just to show he is awake. Sometimes the lions are very close and then I hear the
                                          click of a rifle bolt as Hasmani loads his rifle – but this is usually much later at night when
                                          the lights are out. One morning I saw large pug marks between the wall of my bedroom
                                          and the garage but I do not fear lions like I did that beastly leopard on the farm.
                                          A great deal of witchcraft is still practiced in the bush villages in the
                                          neighbourhood. I must tell you about old Hasmani’s baby in connection with this. Last
                                          week Hasmani came to me in great distress to say that his baby was ‘Ngongwa sana ‘
                                          (very ill) and he thought it would die. I hurried down to the Game Scouts quarters to see
                                          whether I could do anything for the child and found the mother squatting in the sun
                                          outside her hut with the baby on her lap. The mother was a young woman but not an
                                          attractive one. She appeared sullen and indifferent compared with old Hasmani who
                                          was very distressed. The child was very feverish and breathing with difficulty and
                                          seemed to me to be suffering from bronchitis if not pneumonia. I rubbed his back and
                                          chest with camphorated oil and dosed him with aspirin and liquid quinine. I repeated the
                                          treatment every four hours, but next day there was no apparent improvement.
                                          In the afternoon Hasmani begged me to give him that night off duty and asked for
                                          a loan of ten shillings. He explained to me that it seemed to him that the white man’s
                                          medicine had failed to cure his child and now he wished to take the child to the local witch
                                          doctor. “For ten shillings” said Hasmani, “the Maganga will drive the devil out of my
                                          child.” “How?” asked I. “With drums”, said Hasmani confidently. I did not know what to
                                          do. I thought the child was too ill to be exposed to the night air, yet I knew that if I
                                          refused his request and the child were to die, Hasmani and all the other locals would hold
                                          me responsible. I very reluctantly granted his request. I was so troubled by the matter
                                          that I sent for George’s office clerk. Daniel, and asked him to accompany Hasmani to the
                                          ceremony and to report to me the next morning. It started to rain after dark and all night
                                          long I lay awake in bed listening to the drums and the light rain. Next morning when I
                                          went out to the kitchen to order breakfast I found a beaming Hasmani awaiting me.
                                          “Memsahib”, he said. “My child is well, the fever is now quite gone, the Maganga drove
                                          out the devil just as I told you.” Believe it or not, when I hurried to his quarters after
                                          breakfast I found the mother suckling a perfectly healthy child! It may be my imagination
                                          but I thought the mother looked pretty smug.The clerk Daniel told me that after Hasmani
                                          had presented gifts of money and food to the ‘Maganga’, the naked baby was placed
                                          on a goat skin near the drums. Most of the time he just lay there but sometimes the witch
                                          doctor picked him up and danced with the child in his arms. Daniel seemed reluctant to
                                          talk about it. Whatever mumbo jumbo was used all this happened a week ago and the
                                          baby has never looked back.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Nzassa 3rd July 1939.

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          Did I tell you that one of George’s Game Scouts was murdered last month in the
                                          Maneromango area towards the Rufigi border. He was on routine patrol, with a porter
                                          carrying his bedding and food, when they suddenly came across a group of African
                                          hunters who were busy cutting up a giraffe which they had just killed. These hunters were
                                          all armed with muzzle loaders, spears and pangas, but as it is illegal to kill giraffe without
                                          a permit, the Scout went up to the group to take their names. Some argument ensued
                                          and the Scout was stabbed.

                                          The District Officer went to the area to investigate and decided to call in the Police
                                          from Dar es Salaam. A party of police went out to search for the murderers but after
                                          some days returned without making any arrests. George was on an elephant control
                                          safari in the Bagamoyo District and on his return through Dar es Salaam he heard of the
                                          murder. George was furious and distressed to hear the news and called in here for an
                                          hour on his way to Maneromango to search for the murderers himself.

                                          After a great deal of strenuous investigation he arrested three poachers, put them
                                          in jail for the night at Maneromango and then brought them to Dar es Salaam where they
                                          are all now behind bars. George will now have to prosecute in the Magistrate’s Court
                                          and try and ‘make a case’ so that the prisoners may be committed to the High Court to
                                          be tried for murder. George is convinced of their guilt and justifiably proud to have
                                          succeeded where the police failed.

                                          George had to borrow handcuffs for the prisoners from the Chief at
                                          Maneromango and these he brought back to Nzassa after delivering the prisoners to
                                          Dar es Salaam so that he may return them to the Chief when he revisits the area next
                                          week.

                                          I had not seen handcuffs before and picked up a pair to examine them. I said to
                                          George, engrossed in ‘The Times’, “I bet if you were arrested they’d never get
                                          handcuffs on your wrist. Not these anyway, they look too small.” “Standard pattern,”
                                          said George still concentrating on the newspaper, but extending an enormous relaxed
                                          left wrist. So, my dears, I put a bracelet round his wrist and as there was a wide gap I
                                          gave a hard squeeze with both hands. There was a sharp click as the handcuff engaged
                                          in the first notch. George dropped the paper and said, “Now you’ve done it, my love,
                                          one set of keys are in the Dar es Salaam Police Station, and the others with the Chief at
                                          Maneromango.” You can imagine how utterly silly I felt but George was an angel about it
                                          and said as he would have to go to Dar es Salaam we might as well all go.

                                          So we all piled into the car, George, the children and I in the front, and the cook
                                          and houseboy, immaculate in snowy khanzus and embroidered white caps, a Game
                                          Scout and the ayah in the back. George never once complain of the discomfort of the
                                          handcuff but I was uncomfortably aware that it was much too tight because his arm
                                          above the cuff looked red and swollen and the hand unnaturally pale. As the road is so
                                          bad George had to use both hands on the wheel and all the time the dangling handcuff
                                          clanked against the dashboard in an accusing way.

                                          We drove straight to the Police Station and I could hear the roars of laughter as
                                          George explained his predicament. Later I had to put up with a good deal of chaffing
                                          and congratulations upon putting the handcuffs on George.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Nzassa 5th August 1939

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          George made a point of being here for Kate’s fourth birthday last week. Just
                                          because our children have no playmates George and I always do all we can to make
                                          birthdays very special occasions. We went to Dar es Salaam the day before the
                                          birthday and bought Kate a very sturdy tricycle with which she is absolutely delighted.
                                          You will be glad to know that your parcels arrived just in time and Kate loved all your
                                          gifts especially the little shop from Dad with all the miniature tins and packets of
                                          groceries. The tea set was also a great success and is much in use.

                                          We had a lively party which ended with George and me singing ‘Happy
                                          Birthday to you’, and ended with a wild game with balloons. Kate wore her frilly white net
                                          party frock and looked so pretty that it seemed a shame that there was no one but us to
                                          see her. Anyway it was a good party. I wish so much that you could see the children.
                                          Kate keeps rosy and has not yet had malaria. Johnny Jo is sturdy but pale. He
                                          runs a temperature now and again but I am not sure whether this is due to teething or
                                          malaria. Both children of course take quinine every day as George and I do. George
                                          quite frequently has malaria in spite of prophylactic quinine but this is not surprising as he
                                          got the germ thoroughly established in his system in his early elephant hunting days. I
                                          get it too occasionally but have not been really ill since that first time a month after my
                                          arrival in the country.

                                          Johnny is such a good baby. His chief claim to beauty is his head of soft golden
                                          curls but these are due to come off on his first birthday as George considers them too
                                          girlish. George left on safari the day after the party and the very next morning our wood
                                          boy had a most unfortunate accident. He was chopping a rather tough log when a chip
                                          flew up and split his upper lip clean through from mouth to nostril exposing teeth and
                                          gums. A truly horrible sight and very bloody. I cleaned up the wound as best I could
                                          and sent him off to the hospital at Dar es Salaam on the office bicycle. He wobbled
                                          away wretchedly down the road with a white cloth tied over his mouth to keep off the
                                          dust. He returned next day with his lip stitched and very swollen and bearing a
                                          resemblance to my lip that time I used the hair remover.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Splendid Hotel. Dar es Salaam 7th September 1939

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          So now another war has started and it has disrupted even our lives. We have left
                                          Nzassa for good. George is now a Lieutenant in the King’s African Rifles and the children
                                          and I are to go to a place called Morogoro to await further developments.
                                          I was glad to read in today’s paper that South Africa has declared war on
                                          Germany. I would have felt pretty small otherwise in this hotel which is crammed full of
                                          men who have been called up for service in the Army. George seems exhilarated by
                                          the prospect of active service. He is bursting out of his uniform ( at the shoulders only!)
                                          and all too ready for the fray.

                                          The war came as a complete surprise to me stuck out in the bush as I was without
                                          wireless or mail. George had been away for a fortnight so you can imagine how
                                          surprised I was when a messenger arrived on a bicycle with a note from George. The
                                          note informed me that war had been declared and that George, as a Reserve Officer in
                                          the KAR had been called up. I was to start packing immediately and be ready by noon
                                          next day when George would arrive with a lorry for our goods and chattels. I started to
                                          pack immediately with the help of the houseboy and by the time George arrived with
                                          the lorry only the frig remained to be packed and this was soon done.

                                          Throughout the morning Game Scouts had been arriving from outlying parts of
                                          the District. I don’t think they had the least idea where they were supposed to go or
                                          whom they were to fight but were ready to fight anybody, anywhere, with George.
                                          They all looked very smart in well pressed uniforms hung about with water bottles and
                                          ammunition pouches. The large buffalo badge on their round pill box hats absolutely
                                          glittered with polish. All of course carried rifles and when George arrived they all lined up
                                          and they looked most impressive. I took some snaps but unfortunately it was drizzling
                                          and they may not come out well.

                                          We left Nzassa without a backward glance. We were pretty fed up with it by
                                          then. The children and I are spending a few days here with George but our luggage, the
                                          dogs, and the houseboys have already left by train for Morogoro where a small house
                                          has been found for the children and me.

                                          George tells me that all the German males in this Territory were interned without a
                                          hitch. The whole affair must have been very well organised. In every town and
                                          settlement special constables were sworn in to do the job. It must have been a rather
                                          unpleasant one but seems to have gone without incident. There is a big transit camp
                                          here at Dar for the German men. Later they are to be sent out of the country, possibly to
                                          Rhodesia.

                                          The Indian tailors in the town are all terribly busy making Army uniforms, shorts
                                          and tunics in khaki drill. George swears that they have muddled their orders and he has
                                          been given the wrong things. Certainly the tunic is far too tight. His hat, a khaki slouch hat
                                          like you saw the Australians wearing in the last war, is also too small though it is the
                                          largest they have in stock. We had a laugh over his other equipment which includes a
                                          small canvas haversack and a whistle on a black cord. George says he feels like he is
                                          back in his Boy Scouting boyhood.

                                          George has just come in to say the we will be leaving for Morogoro tomorrow
                                          afternoon.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Morogoro 14th September 1939

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          Morogoro is a complete change from Nzassa. This is a large and sprawling
                                          township. The native town and all the shops are down on the flat land by the railway but
                                          all the European houses are away up the slope of the high Uluguru Mountains.
                                          Morogoro was a flourishing town in the German days and all the streets are lined with
                                          trees for coolness as is the case in other German towns. These trees are the flamboyant
                                          acacia which has an umbrella top and throws a wide but light shade.

                                          Most of the houses have large gardens so they cover a considerable area and it
                                          is quite a safari for me to visit friends on foot as our house is on the edge of this area and
                                          the furthest away from the town. Here ones house is in accordance with ones seniority in
                                          Government service. Ours is a simple affair, just three lofty square rooms opening on to
                                          a wide enclosed verandah. Mosquitoes are bad here so all doors and windows are
                                          screened and we will have to carry on with our daily doses of quinine.

                                          George came up to Morogoro with us on the train. This was fortunate because I
                                          went down with a sharp attack of malaria at the hotel on the afternoon of our departure
                                          from Dar es Salaam. George’s drastic cure of vast doses of quinine, a pillow over my
                                          head, and the bed heaped with blankets soon brought down the temperature so I was
                                          fit enough to board the train but felt pretty poorly on the trip. However next day I felt
                                          much better which was a good thing as George had to return to Dar es Salaam after two
                                          days. His train left late at night so I did not see him off but said good-bye at home
                                          feeling dreadful but trying to keep the traditional stiff upper lip of the wife seeing her
                                          husband off to the wars. He hopes to go off to Abyssinia but wrote from Dar es Salaam
                                          to say that he is being sent down to Rhodesia by road via Mbeya to escort the first
                                          detachment of Rhodesian white troops.

                                          First he will have to select suitable camping sites for night stops and arrange for
                                          supplies of food. I am very pleased as it means he will be safe for a while anyway. We
                                          are both worried about Ann and George in England and wonder if it would be safer to
                                          have them sent out.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Morogoro 4th November 1939

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          My big news is that George has been released from the Army. He is very
                                          indignant and disappointed because he hoped to go to Abyssinia but I am terribly,
                                          terribly glad. The Chief Secretary wrote a very nice letter to George pointing out that he
                                          would be doing a greater service to his country by his work of elephant control, giving
                                          crop protection during the war years when foodstuffs are such a vital necessity, than by
                                          doing a soldiers job. The Government plan to start a huge rice scheme in the Rufiji area,
                                          and want George to control the elephant and hippo there. First of all though. he must go
                                          to the Southern Highlands Province where there is another outbreak of Rinderpest, to
                                          shoot out diseased game especially buffalo, which might spread the disease.

                                          So off we go again on our travels but this time we are leaving the two dogs
                                          behind in the care of Daniel, the Game Clerk. Fanny is very pregnant and I hate leaving
                                          her behind but the clerk has promised to look after her well. We are taking Hamisi, our
                                          dignified Swahili cook and the houseboy Juma and his wife whom we brought with us
                                          from Nzassa. The boy is not very good but his wife makes a cheerful and placid ayah
                                          and adores Johnny.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Iringa 8th December 1939

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          The children and I are staying in a small German house leased from the
                                          Custodian of Enemy Property. I can’t help feeling sorry for the owners who must be in
                                          concentration camps somewhere.George is away in the bush dealing with the
                                          Rinderpest emergency and the cook has gone with him. Now I have sent the houseboy
                                          and the ayah away too. Two days ago my houseboy came and told me that he felt
                                          very ill and asked me to write a ‘chit’ to the Indian Doctor. In the note I asked the Doctor
                                          to let me know the nature of his complaint and to my horror I got a note from him to say
                                          that the houseboy had a bad case of Venereal Disease. Was I horrified! I took it for
                                          granted that his wife must be infected too and told them both that they would have to
                                          return to their home in Nzassa. The boy shouted and the ayah wept but I paid them in
                                          lieu of notice and gave them money for the journey home. So there I was left servant
                                          less with firewood to chop, a smokey wood burning stove to control, and of course, the
                                          two children.

                                          To add to my troubles Johnny had a temperature so I sent for the European
                                          Doctor. He diagnosed malaria and was astonished at the size of Johnny’s spleen. He
                                          said that he must have had suppressed malaria over a long period and the poor child
                                          must now be fed maximum doses of quinine for a long time. The Doctor is a fatherly
                                          soul, he has been recalled from retirement to do this job as so many of the young
                                          doctors have been called up for service with the army.

                                          I told him about my houseboy’s complaint and the way I had sent him off
                                          immediately, and he was very amused at my haste, saying that it is most unlikely that
                                          they would have passed the disease onto their employers. Anyway I hated the idea. I
                                          mean to engage a houseboy locally, but will do without an ayah until we return to
                                          Morogoro in February.

                                          Something happened today to cheer me up. A telegram came from Daniel which
                                          read, “FLANNEL HAS FIVE CUBS.”

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Morogoro 10th March 1940

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          We are having very heavy rain and the countryside is a most beautiful green. In
                                          spite of the weather George is away on safari though it must be very wet and
                                          unpleasant. He does work so hard at his elephant hunting job and has got very thin. I
                                          suppose this is partly due to those stomach pains he gets and the doctors don’t seem
                                          to diagnose the trouble.

                                          Living in Morogoro is much like living in a country town in South Africa, particularly
                                          as there are several South African women here. I go out quite often to morning teas. We
                                          all take our war effort knitting, and natter, and are completely suburban.
                                          I sometimes go and see an elderly couple who have been interred here. They
                                          are cold shouldered by almost everyone else but I cannot help feeling sorry for them.
                                          Usually I go by invitation because I know Mrs Ruppel prefers to be prepared and
                                          always has sandwiches and cake. They both speak English but not fluently and
                                          conversation is confined to talking about my children and theirs. Their two sons were
                                          students in Germany when war broke out but are now of course in the German Army.
                                          Such nice looking chaps from their photographs but I suppose thorough Nazis. As our
                                          conversation is limited I usually ask to hear a gramophone record or two. They have a
                                          large collection.

                                          Janet, the ayah whom I engaged at Mbeya, is proving a great treasure. She is a
                                          trained hospital ayah and is most dependable and capable. She is, perhaps, a little strict
                                          but the great thing is that I can trust her with the children out of my sight.
                                          Last week I went out at night for the first time without George. The occasion was
                                          a farewell sundowner given by the Commissioner of Prisoners and his wife. I was driven
                                          home by the District Officer and he stopped his car by the back door in a large puddle.
                                          Ayah came to the back door, storm lamp in hand, to greet me. My escort prepared to
                                          drive off but the car stuck. I thought a push from me might help, so without informing the
                                          driver, I pushed as hard as I could on the back of the car. Unfortunately the driver
                                          decided on other tactics. He put the engine in reverse and I was knocked flat on my back
                                          in the puddle. The car drove forward and away without the driver having the least idea of
                                          what happened. The ayah was in quite a state, lifting me up and scolding me for my
                                          stupidity as though I were Kate. I was a bit shaken but non the worse and will know
                                          better next time.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Morogoro 14th July 1940

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          How good it was of Dad to send that cable to Mother offering to have Ann and
                                          George to live with you if they are accepted for inclusion in the list of children to be
                                          evacuated to South Africa. It would be wonderful to know that they are safely out of the
                                          war zone and so much nearer to us but I do dread the thought of the long sea voyage
                                          particularly since we heard the news of the sinking of that liner carrying child evacuees to
                                          Canada. I worry about them so much particularly as George is so often away on safari.
                                          He is so comforting and calm and I feel brave and confident when he is home.
                                          We have had no news from England for five weeks but, when she last wrote,
                                          mother said the children were very well and that she was sure they would be safe in the
                                          country with her.

                                          Kate and John are growing fast. Kate is such a pretty little girl, rosy in spite of the
                                          rather trying climate. I have allowed her hair to grow again and it hangs on her shoulders
                                          in shiny waves. John is a more slightly built little boy than young George was, and quite
                                          different in looks. He has Dad’s high forehead and cleft chin, widely spaced brown eyes
                                          that are not so dark as mine and hair that is still fair and curly though ayah likes to smooth it
                                          down with water every time she dresses him. He is a shy child, and although he plays
                                          happily with Kate, he does not care to play with other children who go in the late
                                          afternoons to a lawn by the old German ‘boma’.

                                          Kate has playmates of her own age but still rather clings to me. Whilst she loves
                                          to have friends here to play with her, she will not go to play at their houses unless I go
                                          too and stay. She always insists on accompanying me when I go out to morning tea
                                          and always calls Janet “John’s ayah”. One morning I went to a knitting session at a
                                          neighbours house. We are all knitting madly for the troops. As there were several other
                                          women in the lounge and no other children, I installed Kate in the dining room with a
                                          colouring book and crayons. My hostess’ black dog was chained to the dining room
                                          table leg, but as he and Kate are on friendly terms I was not bothered by this.
                                          Some time afterwards, during a lull in conversation, I heard a strange drumming
                                          noise coming from the dining room. I went quickly to investigate and, to my horror, found
                                          Kate lying on her back with the dog chain looped around her neck. The frightened dog
                                          was straining away from her as far as he could get and the chain was pulled so tightly
                                          around her throat that she could not scream. The drumming noise came from her heels
                                          kicking in a panic on the carpet.

                                          Even now I do not know how Kate got herself into this predicament. Luckily no
                                          great harm was done but I think I shall do my knitting at home in future.

                                          Eleanor.

                                          Morogoro 16th November 1940

                                          Dearest Family,

                                          I much prefer our little house on the hillside to the larger one we had down below.
                                          The only disadvantage is that the garden is on three levels and both children have had
                                          some tumbles down the steps on the tricycle. John is an extremely stoical child. He
                                          never cries when he hurts himself.

                                          I think I have mentioned ‘Morningside’ before. It is a kind of Resthouse high up in
                                          the Uluguru Mountains above Morogoro. Jess Howe-Browne, who runs the large
                                          house as a Guest House, is a wonderful woman. Besides running the boarding house
                                          she also grows vegetables, flowers and fruit for sale in Morogoro and Dar es Salaam.
                                          Her guests are usually women and children from Dar es Salaam who come in the hot
                                          season to escape the humidity on the coast. Often the mothers leave their children for
                                          long periods in Jess Howe-Browne’s care. There is a road of sorts up the mountain side
                                          to Morningside, but this is so bad that cars do not attempt it and guests are carried up
                                          the mountain in wicker chairs lashed to poles. Four men carry an adult, and two a child,
                                          and there are of course always spare bearers and they work in shifts.

                                          Last week the children and I went to Morningside for the day as guests. John
                                          rode on my lap in one chair and Kate in a small chair on her own. This did not please
                                          Kate at all. The poles are carried on the bearers shoulders and one is perched quite high.
                                          The motion is a peculiar rocking one. The bearers chant as they go and do not seem
                                          worried by shortness of breath! They are all hillmen of course and are, I suppose, used
                                          to trotting up and down to the town.

                                          Morningside is well worth visiting and we spent a delightful day there. The fresh
                                          cool air is a great change from the heavy air of the valley. A river rushes down the
                                          mountain in a series of cascades, and the gardens are shady and beautiful. Behind the
                                          property is a thick indigenous forest which stretches from Morningside to the top of the
                                          mountain. The house is an old German one, rather in need of repair, but Jess has made
                                          it comfortable and attractive, with some of her old family treasures including a fine old
                                          Grandfather clock. We had a wonderful lunch which included large fresh strawberries and
                                          cream. We made the return journey again in the basket chairs and got home before dark.
                                          George returned home at the weekend with a baby elephant whom we have
                                          called Winnie. She was rescued from a mud hole by some African villagers and, as her
                                          mother had abandoned her, they took her home and George was informed. He went in
                                          the truck to fetch her having first made arrangements to have her housed in a shed on the
                                          Agriculture Department Experimental Farm here. He has written to the Game Dept
                                          Headquarters to inform the Game Warden and I do not know what her future will be, but
                                          in the meantime she is our pet. George is afraid she will not survive because she has
                                          had a very trying time. She stands about waist high and is a delightful creature and quite
                                          docile. Asian and African children as well as Europeans gather to watch her and George
                                          encourages them to bring fruit for her – especially pawpaws which she loves.
                                          Whilst we were there yesterday one of the local ladies came, very smartly
                                          dressed in a linen frock, silk stockings, and high heeled shoes. She watched fascinated
                                          whilst Winnie neatly split a pawpaw and removed the seeds with her trunk, before
                                          scooping out the pulp and putting it in her mouth. It was a particularly nice ripe pawpaw
                                          and Winnie enjoyed it so much that she stretched out her trunk for more. The lady took
                                          fright and started to run with Winnie after her, sticky trunk outstretched. Quite an
                                          entertaining sight. George managed to stop Winnie but not before she had left a gooey
                                          smear down the back of the immaculate frock.

                                          Eleanor.

                                           

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