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  • #6336
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      The Hamstall Ridware Connection

      Stubbs and Woods

      Hamstall RidwareHamstall Ridware

       

       

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

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

      But why did they move to Hamstall Ridware?

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

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

      Wm Wood will

       

      But why did they move to Hamstall Ridware circa 1780?

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

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

      Samuel Stubbs buckle maker

       

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

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

      via “historywebsite”(museum/metalware/steel)

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

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

       

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

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

      Riotous Assembles

      Hamstall Ridware

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

       

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

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

      A page from the 1784 will of William Wood:

      will Wm Wood

       

      The 1784 will of William Wood of Darlaston:

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

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

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

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

       

       

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

      Wm Wood Mary Clews

       

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

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

      #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

        #6276
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Ellastone and Mayfield
          Malkins and Woodwards
          Parish Registers

           

          Jane Woodward


          It’s exciting, as well as enormously frustrating, to see so many Woodward’s in the Ellastone parish registers, and even more so because they go back so far. There are parish registers surviving from the 1500’s: in one, dated 1579, the death of Thomas Woodward was recorded. His father’s name was Humfrey.

          Jane Woodward married Rowland Malkin in 1751, in Thorpe, Ashbourne. Jane was from Mathfield (also known as Mayfield), Ellastone, on the Staffordshire side of the river Dove. Rowland was from Clifton, Ashbourne, on the Derbyshire side of the river. They were neighbouring villages, but in different counties.

          Jane Woodward was born in 1726 according to the marriage transcription. No record of the baptism can be found for her, despite there having been at least four other Woodward couples in Ellastone and Mayfield baptizing babies in the 1720’s and 1730’s.  Without finding out the baptism with her parents names on the parish register, it’s impossible to know which is the correct line to follow back to the earlier records.

          I found a Mayfield history group on Facebook and asked if there were parish records existing that were not yet online. A member responded that she had a set on microfiche and had looked through the relevant years and didn’t see a Jane Woodward, but she did say that some of the pages were illegible.

          The Ellasone parish records from the 1500s surviving at all, considering the events in 1673, is remarkable. To be so close, but for one indecipherable page from the 1700s, to tracing the family back to the 1500s! The search for the connecting link to the earlier records continues.

          Some key events in the history of parish registers from familysearch:

          In medieval times there were no parish registers. For some years before the Reformation, monastic houses (especially the smaller ones) the parish priest had been developing the custom of noting in an album or on the margins of the service books, the births and deaths of the leading local families.
          1538 – Through the efforts of Thomas Cromwell a mandate was issued by Henry VIII to keep parish registers. This order that every parson, vicar or curate was to enter in a book every wedding, christening and burial in his parish. The parish was to provide a sure coffer with two locks, the parson having the custody of one key, the wardens the others. The entries were to be made each Sunday after the service in the presence of one of the wardens.
          1642-60 – During the Civil War registers were neglected and Bishop Transcripts were not required.
          1650 – In the restoration of Charles they went back to the church to keep christenings, marriages and burial. The civil records that were kept were filed in with the parish in their registers. it is quite usual to find entries explaining the situation during the Interregnum. One rector stated that on 23 April 1643 “Our church was defaced our font thrown down and new forms of prayer appointed”. Another minister not quite so bold wrote “When the war, more than a civil war was raging most grimly between royalists and parliamentarians throughout the greatest part of England, I lived well because I lay low”.
          1653 – Cromwell, whose army had defeated the Royalists, was made Lord Protector and acted as king. He was a Puritan. The parish church of England was disorganized, many ministers fled for their lives, some were able to hide their registers and other registers were destroyed. Cromwell ruled that there would be no one religion in England all religions could be practiced. The government took away from the ministers not only the custody of the registers, but even the solemnization of the marriage ceremony. The marriage ceremony was entrusted to the justices to form a new Parish Register (not Registrar) elected by all the ratepayers in a parish, and sworn before and approved by a magistrate.. Parish clerks of the church were made a civil parish clerk and they recorded deaths, births and marriages in the civil parishes.

           

          Ellastone:

          “Ellastone features as ‘Hayslope’ in George Eliot’s Adam Bede, published in 1859. It earned this recognition because the author’s father spent the early part of his life in the village working as a carpenter.”

          Adam Bede Cottage, Ellastone:

          Ellasone Adam Bede

          “It was at Ellastone that Robert Evans, George Eliot’s father, passed his early years and worked as a carpenter with his brother Samuel; and it was partly from reminiscences of her father’s talk and from her uncle Samuel’s wife’s preaching experiences that the author constructed the very powerful and moving story of Adam Bede.”

           

          Mary Malkin

          1765-1838

          Ellen Carrington’s mother was Mary Malkin.

          Ellastone:

          Ellastone

           

           

           

          Ashbourn the 31st day of May in the year of our Lord 1751.  The marriage of Rowland Malkin and Jane Woodward:

          Rowland Malkin marriage 1751

          #6275
          TracyTracy
          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-

            #6259
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              George “Mike” Rushby

              A short autobiography of George Gilman Rushby’s son, published in the Blackwall Bugle, Australia.

              Early in 2009, Ballina Shire Council Strategic and
              Community Services Group Manager, Steve Barnier,
              suggested that it would be a good idea for the Wardell
              and District community to put out a bi-monthly
              newsletter. I put my hand up to edit the publication and
              since then, over 50 issues of “The Blackwall Bugle”
              have been produced, encouraged by Ballina Shire
              Council who host the newsletter on their website.
              Because I usually write the stories that other people
              generously share with me, I have been asked by several
              community members to let them know who I am. Here is
              my attempt to let you know!

              My father, George Gilman Rushby was born in England
              in 1900. An Electrician, he migrated to Africa as a young
              man to hunt and to prospect for gold. He met Eleanor
              Dunbar Leslie who was a high school teacher in Cape
              Town. They later married in Dar es Salaam, Tanganyika.
              I was the second child and first son and was born in a
              mud hut in Tanganyika in 1933. I spent my first years on
              a coffee plantation. When four years old, and with
              parents and elder sister on a remote goldfield, I caught
              typhoid fever. I was seriously ill and had no access to
              proper medical facilities. My paternal grandmother
              sailed out to Africa from England on a steam ship and
              took me back to England for medical treatment. My
              sister Ann came too. Then Adolf Hitler started WWII and
              Ann and I were separated from our parents for 9 years.

              Sister Ann and I were not to see him or our mother for
              nine years because of the war. Dad served as a Captain in
              the King’s African Rifles operating in the North African
              desert, while our Mum managed the coffee plantation at
              home in Tanganyika.

              Ann and I lived with our Grandmother and went to
              school in Nottingham England. In 1946 the family was
              reunited. We lived in Mbeya in Southern Tanganyika
              where my father was then the District Manager of the
              National Parks and Wildlife Authority. There was no
              high school in Tanganyika so I had to go to school in
              Nairobi, Kenya. It took five days travelling each way by
              train and bus including two days on a steamer crossing
              Lake Victoria.

              However, the school year was only two terms with long
              holidays in between.

              When I was seventeen, I left high school. There was
              then no university in East Africa. There was no work
              around as Tanganyika was about to become
              independent of the British Empire and become
              Tanzania. Consequently jobs were reserved for
              Africans.

              A war had broken out in Korea. I took a day off from
              high school and visited the British Army headquarters
              in Nairobi. I signed up for military service intending to
              go to Korea. The army flew me to England. During
              Army basic training I was nicknamed ‘Mike’ and have
              been called Mike ever since. I never got to Korea!
              After my basic training I volunteered for the Parachute
              Regiment and the army sent me to Egypt where the
              Suez Canal was under threat. I carried out parachute
              operations in the Sinai Desert and in Cyprus and
              Jordan. I was then selected for officer training and was
              sent to England to the Eaton Hall Officer Cadet School
              in Cheshire. Whilst in Cheshire, I met my future wife
              Jeanette. I graduated as a Second Lieutenant in the
              Royal Lincolnshire Regiment and was posted to West
              Berlin, which was then one hundred miles behind the
              Iron Curtain. My duties included patrolling the
              demarcation line that separated the allies from the
              Russian forces. The Berlin Wall was yet to be built. I
              also did occasional duty as guard commander of the
              guard at Spandau Prison where Adolf Hitler’s deputy
              Rudolf Hess was the only prisoner.

              From Berlin, my Regiment was sent to Malaya to
              undertake deep jungle operations against communist
              terrorists that were attempting to overthrow the
              Malayan Government. I was then a Lieutenant in
              command of a platoon of about 40 men which would go
              into the jungle for three weeks to a month with only air
              re-supply to keep us going. On completion of my jungle
              service, I returned to England and married Jeanette. I
              had to stand up throughout the church wedding
              ceremony because I had damaged my right knee in a
              competitive cross-country motorcycle race and wore a
              splint and restrictive bandage for the occasion!
              At this point I took a career change and transferred
              from the infantry to the Royal Military Police. I was in
              charge of the security of British, French and American
              troops using the autobahn link from West Germany to
              the isolated Berlin. Whilst in Germany and Austria I
              took up snow skiing as a sport.

              Jeanette and I seemed to attract unusual little
              adventures along the way — each adventure trivial in
              itself but adding up to give us a ‘different’ path through
              life. Having climbed Mount Snowdon up the ‘easy way’
              we were witness to a serious climbing accident where a
              member of the staff of a Cunard Shipping Line
              expedition fell and suffered serious injury. It was
              Sunday a long time ago. The funicular railway was
              closed. There was no telephone. So I ran all the way
              down Mount Snowdon to raise the alarm.

              On a road trip from Verden in Germany to Berlin with
              our old Opel Kapitan motor car stacked to the roof with
              all our worldly possessions, we broke down on the ice and snow covered autobahn. We still had a hundred kilometres to go.

              A motorcycle patrolman flagged down a B-Double
              tanker. He hooked us to the tanker with a very short tow
              cable and off we went. The truck driver couldn’t see us
              because we were too close and his truck threw up a
              constant deluge of ice and snow so we couldn’t see
              anyway. We survived the hundred kilometre ‘sleigh
              ride!’

              I then went back to the other side of the world where I
              carried out military police duties in Singapore and
              Malaya for three years. I took up scuba diving and
              loved the ocean. Jeanette and I, with our two little
              daughters, took a holiday to South Africa to see my
              parents. We sailed on a ship of the Holland-Afrika Line.
              It broke down for four days and drifted uncontrollably
              in dangerous waters off the Skeleton Coast of Namibia
              until the crew could get the ship’s motor running again.
              Then, in Cape Town, we were walking the beach near
              Hermanus with my youngest brother and my parents,
              when we found the dead body of a man who had thrown
              himself off a cliff. The police came and secured the site.
              Back with the army, I was promoted to Major and
              appointed Provost Marshal of the ACE Mobile Force
              (Allied Command Europe) with dual headquarters in
              Salisbury, England and Heidelberg, Germany. The cold
              war was at its height and I was on operations in Greece,
              Denmark and Norway including the Arctic. I had
              Norwegian, Danish, Italian and American troops in my
              unit and I was then also the Winter Warfare Instructor
              for the British contingent to the Allied Command
              Europe Mobile Force that operated north of the Arctic
              Circle.

              The reason for being in the Arctic Circle? From there
              our special forces could look down into northern
              Russia.

              I was not seeing much of my two young daughters. A
              desk job was looming my way and I decided to leave
              the army and migrate to Australia. Why Australia?
              Well, I didn’t want to go back to Africa, which
              seemed politically unstable and the people I most
              liked working with in the army, were the Australian
              troops I had met in Malaya.

              I migrated to Brisbane, Australia in 1970 and started
              working for Woolworths. After management training,
              I worked at Garden City and Brookside then became
              the manager in turn of Woolworths stores at
              Paddington, George Street and Redcliff. I was also the
              first Director of FAUI Queensland (The Federation of
              Underwater Diving Instructors) and spent my spare
              time on the Great Barrier Reef. After 8 years with
              Woollies, I opted for a sea change.

              I moved with my family to Evans Head where I
              converted a convenience store into a mini
              supermarket. When IGA moved into town, I decided
              to take up beef cattle farming and bought a cattle
              property at Collins Creek Kyogle in 1990. I loved
              everything about the farm — the Charolais cattle, my
              horses, my kelpie dogs, the open air, fresh water
              creek, the freedom, the lifestyle. I also became a
              volunteer fire fighter with the Green Pigeon Brigade.
              In 2004 I sold our farm and moved to Wardell.
              My wife Jeanette and I have been married for 60 years
              and are now retired. We have two lovely married
              daughters and three fine grandchildren. We live in the
              greatest part of the world where we have been warmly
              welcomed by the Wardell community and by the
              Wardell Brigade of the Rural Fire Service. We are
              very happy here.

              Mike Rushby

              A short article sent to Jacksdale in England from Mike Rushby in Australia:

              Rushby Family

              #6254
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                The Gladstone Connection

                My grandmother had said that we were distantly related to Gladstone the prime minister. Apparently Grandma’s mothers aunt had a neice that was related to him, or some combination of aunts and nieces on the Gretton side. I had not yet explored all the potential great grandmothers aunt’s nieces looking for this Gladstone connection, but I accidentally found a Gladstone on the tree on the Gretton side.

                I was wandering around randomly looking at the hints for other people that had my grandparents in their trees to see who they were and how they were connected, and noted a couple of photos of Orgills. Richard Gretton, grandma’s mother Florence Nightingale Gretton’s father,  married Sarah Orgill. Sarah’s brother John Orgill married Elizabeth Mary Gladstone. It was the photographs that caught my eye, but then I saw the Gladstone name, and that she was born in Liverpool. Her father was William Gladstone born 1809 in Liverpool, just like the prime minister. And his father was John Gladstone, just like the prime minister.

                But the William Gladstone in our family tree was a millwright, who emigrated to Australia with his wife and two children rather late in life at the age of 54, in 1863. He died three years later when he was thrown out of a cart in 1866. This was clearly not William Gladstone the prime minister.

                John Orgill emigrated to Australia in 1865, and married Elizabeth Mary Gladstone in Victoria in 1870. Their first child was born in December that year, in Dandenong. Their three sons all have the middle name Gladstone.

                John Orgill 1835-1911 (Florence Nightingale Gretton’s mothers brother)

                John Orgill

                Elizabeth Mary Gladstone 1845-1926

                Elizabeth Mary Gladstone

                 

                I did not think that the link to Gladstone the prime minister was true, until I found an article in the Australian newspapers while researching the family of John Orgill for the Australia chapter.

                In the Letters to the Editor in The Argus, a Melbourne newspaper, dated 8 November 1921:

                Gladstone

                 

                THE GLADSTONE FAMILY.
                TO THE EDITOR OF THE ARGUS.
                Sir,—I notice to-day a reference to the
                death of Mr. Robert Gladstone, late of
                Wooltonvale. Liverpool, who, together
                with estate in England valued at £143,079,
                is reported to have left to his children
                (five sons and seven daughters) estate
                valued at £4,300 in Victoria. It may be
                of interest to some of your readers to
                know that this Robert Gladstone was a
                son of the Gladstone family to which
                the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, the
                famous Prime Minister, belonged, some
                members of which are now resident in Aus-
                tralia. Robert Gladstone’s father (W. E.
                Gladstone’s cousin), Stuart Gladstone, of
                Liverpool, owned at one time the estates
                of Noorat and Glenormiston, in Victoria,
                to which he sent Neil Black as manager.
                Mr. Black, who afterwards acquired the
                property, called one of his sons “Stuart
                Gladstone” after his employer. A nephew
                of Stuart Gladstone (and cousin of
                Robert Gladstone, of Wooltonvale), Robert
                Cottingham, by name “Bobbie” came out
                to Australia to farm at Noorat, but was
                killed in a horse accident when only 21,
                and was the first to be buried in the new
                cemetery at Noorat. A brother, of “Bob-
                bie,” “Fred” by name, was well known
                in the early eighties as an overland
                drover, taking stock for C. B. Fisher to
                the far north. Later on he married and
                settled in Melbourne, but left during the
                depressing time following the bursting of
                the boom, to return to Queensland, where,
                in all probability, he still resides. A sister
                of “Bobbie” and “Fred” still lives in the
                neighbourhood of Melbourne. Their
                father, Montgomery Gladstone, who was in
                the diplomatic service, and travelled about
                a great deal, was a brother of Stuart Glad-
                stone, the owner of Noorat, and a full
                cousin of William Ewart Gladstone, his
                father, Robert, being a brother of W. E.
                Gladstone’s father, Sir John, of Liverpool.
                The wife of Robert Gladstone, of Woolton-
                vale, Ella Gladstone by name, was also
                his second cousin, being the daughter of
                Robertson Gladstone, of Courthaize, near
                Liverpool, W. E. Gladstone’s older
                brother.
                A cousin of Sir John Gladstone
                (W. E. G.’s father), also called John, was
                a foundry owner in Castledouglas, and the
                inventor of the first suspension bridge, a
                model of which was made use of in the
                erection of the Menai Bridge connecting
                Anglesea with the mainland, and was after-
                wards presented to the Liverpool Stock
                Exchange by the inventor’s cousin, Sir
                John. One of the sons of this inventive
                engineer, William by name, left England
                in 1863 with his wife and son and daugh-
                ter, intending to settle in New Zealand,
                but owing to the unrest caused there by
                the Maori war, he came instead to Vic-
                toria, and bought land near Dandenong.
                Three years later he was killed in a horse
                accident, but his name is perpetuated in
                the name “Gladstone road” in Dandenong.
                His daughter afterwards married, and lived
                for many years in Gladstone House, Dande-
                nong, but is now widowed and settled in
                Gippsland. Her three sons and four daugh-
                ters are all married and perpetuating the
                Gladstone family in different parts of Aus-
                tralia. William’s son (also called Wil-
                liam), who came out with his father,
                mother, and sister in 1863 still lives in the
                Fix this textneighbourhood of Melbourne, with his son
                and grandson. An aunt of Sir John Glad-
                stone (W. E. G.’s father), Christina Glad-
                stone by name, married a Mr. Somerville,
                of Biggar. One of her great-grandchildren
                is Professor W. P. Paterson, of Edinburgh
                University, another is a professor in the
                West Australian University, and a third
                resides in Melbourne. Yours. &c.

                Melbourne, Nov.7, FAMILY TREE

                 

                According to the Old Dandenong website:

                “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).”

                The story of the Orgill’s continues in the chapter on Australia.

                #6227
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  The Scottish Connection

                  My grandfather always used to say we had some Scottish blood because his “mother was a Purdy”, and that they were from the low counties of Scotland near to the English border.

                  My mother had a Scottish hat in among the boxes of souvenirs and old photographs. In one of her recent house moves, she finally threw it away, not knowing why we had it or where it came from, and of course has since regretted it!  It probably came from one of her aunts, either Phyllis or Dorothy. Neither of them had children, and they both died in 1983. My grandfather was executor of the estate in both cases, and it’s assumed that the portraits, the many photographs, the booklet on Primitive Methodists, and the Scottish hat, all relating to his mother’s side of the family, came into his possession then. His sister Phyllis never married and was living in her parents home until she died, and is the likeliest candidate for the keeper of the family souvenirs.

                  Catherine Housley married George Purdy, and his father was Francis Purdy, the Primitive Methodist preacher.  William Purdy was the father of Francis.

                  Record searches find William Purdy was born on 16 July 1767 in Carluke, Lanarkshire, near Glasgow in Scotland. He worked for James Watt, the inventor of the steam engine, and moved to Derbyshire for the purpose of installing steam driven pumps to remove the water from the collieries in the area.

                  Another descendant of Francis Purdy found the following in a book in a library in Eastwood:

                  William Purdy

                  William married a local girl, Ruth Clarke, in Duffield in Derbyshire in 1786.  William and Ruth had nine children, and the seventh was Francis who was born at West Hallam in 1795.

                  Perhaps the Scottish hat came from William Purdy, but there is another story of Scottish connections in Smalley:  Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745.  Although the Purdy’s were not from Smalley, Catherine Housley was.

                  From an article on the Heanor and District Local History Society website:

                  The Jacobites in Smalley

                  Few people would readily associate the village of Smalley, situated about two miles west of Heanor, with Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Jacobite Rebellion of 1745 – but there is a clear link.

                  During the winter of 1745, Charles Edward Stuart, the “Bonnie Prince” or “The Young Pretender”, marched south from Scotland. His troops reached Derby on 4 December, and looted the town, staying for two days before they commenced a fateful retreat as the Duke of Cumberland’s army approached.

                  While staying in Derby, or during the retreat, some of the Jacobites are said to have visited some of the nearby villages, including Smalley.

                  A history of the local aspects of this escapade was written in 1933 by L. Eardley-Simpson, entitled “Derby and the ‘45,” from which the following is an extract:

                  “The presence of a party at Smalley is attested by several local traditions and relics. Not long ago there were people living who remember to have seen at least a dozen old pikes in a room adjoining the stables at Smalley Hall, and these were stated to have been left by a party of Highlanders who came to exchange their ponies for horses belonging to the then owner, Mrs Richardson; in 1907, one of these pikes still remained. Another resident of Smalley had a claymore which was alleged to have been found on Drumhill, Breadsall Moor, while the writer of the History of Smalley himself (Reverend C. Kerry) had a magnificent Andrew Ferrara, with a guard of finely wrought iron, engraved with two heads in Tudor helmets, of the same style, he states, as the one left at Wingfield Manor, though why the outlying bands of Army should have gone so far afield, he omits to mention. Smalley is also mentioned in another strange story as to the origin of the family of Woolley of Collingham who attained more wealth and a better position in the world than some of their relatives. The story is to the effect that when the Scots who had visited Mrs Richardson’s stables were returning to Derby, they fell in with one Woolley of Smalley, a coal carrier, and impressed him with horse and cart for the conveyance of certain heavy baggage. On the retreat, the party with Woolley was surprised by some of the Elector’s troopers (the Royal army) who pursued the Scots, leaving Woolley to shift for himself. This he did, and, his suspicion that the baggage he was carrying was part of the Prince’s treasure turning out to be correct, he retired to Collingham, and spent the rest of his life there in the enjoyment of his luckily acquired gains. Another story of a similar sort was designed to explain the rise of the well-known Derbyshire family of Cox of Brailsford, but the dates by no means agree with the family pedigree, and in any event the suggestion – for it is little more – is entirely at variance with the views as to the rights of the Royal House of Stuart which were expressed by certain members of the Cox family who were alive not many years ago.”

                  A letter from Charles Kerry, dated 30 July 1903, narrates another strange twist to the tale. When the Highlanders turned up in Smalley, a large crowd, mainly women, gathered. “On a command in Gaelic, the regiment stooped, and throwing their kilts over their backs revealed to the astonished ladies and all what modesty is careful to conceal. Father, who told me, said they were not any more troubled with crowds of women.”

                  Folklore or fact? We are unlikely to know, but the Scottish artefacts in the Smalley area certainly suggest that some of the story is based on fact.

                  We are unlikely to know where that Scottish hat came from, but we did find the Scottish connection.  William Purdy’s mother was Grizel Gibson, and her mother was Grizel Murray, both of Lanarkshire in Scotland.  The name Grizel is a Scottish form of the name Griselda, and means “grey battle maiden”.  But with the exception of the name Murray, The Purdy and Gibson names are not traditionally Scottish, so there is not much of a Scottish connection after all.  But the mystery of the Scottish hat remains unsolved.

                  #6176
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Godfrey was getting itchy. The hazmat suit with built-in peanut dispenser was getting stickier by the minute, but he needed it to stay in the room, and provide the moral support Liz’ needed during her bout of glowid.

                    She’d caught a mean streak, some said a Tartessian variant, which like all version caused the subject to gradually lose sense of inhibition (which in the case of Liz’ made the changes in her normal behaviour so subtle, it could have explain why it wasn’t detected until much later). After that, the usual symptoms of glowing started to display themselves. At first, Liz’ had dismissed them as hot flashes, but when she started to faintly glow in the dark, there was no longer room for hesitation. She had to be put in solitary confinement and monitored to keep her from sparkling, which was the severe form of the malady.

                    Bronkel has called” Godfrey said in between mouthfuls. “Actually his secretary did. He sent a list of words to inspire you back into writing.”

                    “Trend surfing keywords now?” Liz’ was inflamed and started to blink like a police siren. “I AM setting the future trends, so he’d rather let me do my job, or I’ll publish elsewhere.”

                    “And…” Godfrey ventured softly “… care to share what new trends you’ve been blazing lately?”

                    Finnley chuckled at the inappropriate choice of words.

                    #6154

                    Clara wiggled her wooly fair isle toes in front of the log fire.  She was glad she’d brought her thick socks ~ the temperature had dropped and snow was forecast.  Good job we got that box out before the ground froze, she said to her grandfather.  He made an indecipherable harumphing noise by way of reply and asked her if she’d found out anything yet about the inscriptions.

                    “No,” Clara sighed, “Not a thing. I’ll probably find it when I stop looking.”

                    Bob raised an eyebrow and said nothing. She’d always had a funny way of looking at things.  Years ago he’d come to the conclusion that he’d never really fathom how her mind worked, and he’d accepted it. Now, though, he felt a little uneasy.

                    “Oh look, Grandpa!  How fitting! It’s the daily random quote from The Daily Wail.  Listen to this:  “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift; that’s why it’s called The Present.”  What a perfect sync!”

                    “Oh aye, it’s a  grand sink, glad you like it! It was about time I had a new one.  It was a wrench to part with the old one, after seeing your grandma standing over it for all those years, but it was half price in the sale, and I thought, why not Bob, be a devil. One last new sink before I kick the bucket. I was fed up with that bucket under the old sink, I can tell you!”

                    Clara blinked, and then smiled at the old man, leaning over to squeeze his arm. “It’s a great sink, Grandpa.”

                    #6086

                    In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

                    “A dil-do factory?” She was aghast. “A fucking carrot dildo factory?”

                    “Admit it, we’re rubbish at this” Tara said. “Even Rosamund may be better at this than us.”

                    “Oh don’t push it.” Star lit a large cigar, a nasty habit that cropped up when she was nervous. She blew a smoke ring and sighed. “At least the rogering was a nice change. Good clean sex, almost a spiritual experience.”

                    “Oh come now, with all the don’t-need-to-know details…”

                    “Well, don’t be such a prude, you were there after all. With all that luscious moaning. Haven’t seen you so flushed in ages…” Star tittered in that high-pitched laughter that could shatter crystal flutes.

                    “Wait… a minute.” Tara was having a brainwave. “We may have overlooked something.”

                    “What? In the sex department?”

                    “Shush, you lascivious banshee… In the flushed department.”

                    “What? Don’t speak riddles tart, I can’t handle riddles when my body’s aching from all that gymnastic.”

                    “Can’t you see? They got to get rid of the dissident stuff unfit for cultish dildoing, if you catch my drift.”

                    “Oh I catch it alright, but I’ve checked the loo… Oh, what? you mean the compost pile?”

                    “I’ve seen trucks parked out the back, they where labelled… Organic Lou’s Disposal Services… OLDS… That’s probably how they remove their archives, if you see what I mean.”

                    “Alright, alright, we’ll go investigate them tomorrow. Meanwhile, what about Mr French?” Star was puffing on her cigar making a good effort at trying to remember and link the details together.

                    “I have a theory. Although it usually would be more in your area of theories.”

                    “What? Alien abduction?”

                    “No, don’t be ridiculous. I’m talking time travel… Haven’t you noticed the scent of celery when we were at the mansion and the appartment?”

                    “A dead give-away for time-travelling shenanigans!”

                    “Exactly. And if I’m correct, might well be that it’s Mr French from the future who phoned us, before he returned to his timeline. Probably because he already knows we’re going to crack the case. Before we know.”

                    “Oh, that’s nice. Would have been nicer if he’d told us how to solve it instead, if he knew, from the future and all? Are you not sure he’s not from his past instead, like before he got in that dreadful car accident?”

                    “Oh well, doesn’t matter does it? And probably won’t any longer once we locate the Uncle Basil in the Drooling Home of Retired Vegetables.”

                    #6084
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Finnley!” Like prodded the sleeping lump. “Finnley, stop pretending to be asleep!”

                      Reluctantly Finnley rolled over, blinking in the glare of the torch Liz was shining at her, and came straight to the point.

                      “You forgot, didn’t you?”

                      “I did not forget!” Liz replied with a sniff. “If I’d forgotten I wouldn’t be here now, would I? Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to…” Liz started to sing.

                      “It’s four thirty in the morning, for god’s sake Liz, get out of my bedroom! You forgot!”

                      “You won’t be wanting your present then,” Liz flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

                      #5965

                      Mavis, Sharon and Gloria were looking like icy popsicles in their cubicles, with only their heads popping out.

                      Berenice, still under training, was overseeing the process, daunted by the alarming number of blinking buttons from the apparatus. She tried to look composed, knowing full well her aunt Barbara wouldn’t make preferential treatment if she were to make a blunder.

                      “BWAAAAHA!” blurted out Gloria coming out of what appeared to have been a very lucid dream.

                      “WHAT NOW?! Bloody hell Glor’ you’re goin’ to get us all a tart attack!” Sharon shouted from the adjacent cubicle.

                      “I just got meself the most horrid dream Shar’, you know wot?”

                      “Don’t say, my Glor'” Mavis said, having left her ears on the nearby table with her shining teeth too. “It’s that about anuther wet dream with Flump?”

                      “Good Lord no! WORSE even!”

                      “WOT now?” Sharon couldn’t help but ask, shushing with a mean eye the poor Berenice.

                      “NURSE TRASSIE! She was comin’ fur us!”

                      “Oh bloody hell. Haven’t they confined her already?” Sharon dismissed with a shrug that made the whole concrete floor vibrate like a panzer washing machine in dry mode. “Look lassies, that’s more interesting.” She nodded towards the haggard Sophie lying on one of the tables. “Brought us some competition on the looks area it seems.”

                      “What?” Mavis strained to hear.

                      “Look dammit! The poor fashion-impeded soul that landed on a waiting list for one of our spots. Gosh, that latex thingy she sports makes me all blushy! But don’t you worry. She can’t be competition to us, ladies. That cryo-treatment is already working I can tell.”

                      She felt the need to add and punctuate towards Berenice “And no thanks to you, young lady. You should learn from me. Never been afraid to push a button in my life!”

                      #5596
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        Mater

                        I told Prune how I couldn’t follow these internet link thingies everyone’s so fond of. Didn’t grow up with computers I guess; it was all letters in my day. I said to Prune, “Will you just tell me who Jasper is, for crying out loud?” Cheeky begger told me not to worry about it and would I like a cuppa? Then she asked how old am I! “I was born in 1935,” I told her. “You do the bleedin’ maths!”

                        Anyway, Dodo is still carrying on about the letter. It worries me. Better not tell young Prune that. Haha.

                        I wish I knew who Jasper was though. Feels like it is something I should remember. I’ll have to remember to ask Prune again.

                        #5367
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          June, have you got a magnet I can borrow?” asked May, the kitchen maid. Her name wasn’t really May, it was Merhnaz, but she knew she wouldn’t get the job if they knew her parents were from Iran.  June rummaged in some drawers, and was just about to ask May what she wanted a magnet for anyway, when May started to explain.

                          “I cooked up all the Swiss chard from the kitchen garden, you know how Mellie Noma enjoys that Indian dish, Delhi Sagi Belly, so I thought I’d get a big batch made for the freezer, well there I was, cooked it all, snipping it up with the scissors and the damn things split into two. And the metal bit that holds the two halves together has disappeared into the pot and do you think I can find it? ”

                          “It might have just blinked out though, and you’ll never find it,” said June.

                          “I’ll be in trouble is she breaks her fake teeth on it.”

                          “Here we are!” June held up the magnet with a triumphant smile. “Oh by the way, May, would you be able to babysit tonight for us?” She held the magnet just out of May’s reach until the kitchen maid agreed.

                          #4826

                          Aunt Idle:

                          It was good of them to do it I suppose, but you know me and new contraptions, it’s hard to summon up the courage to deal with a new one, no matter how seemingly simple it might be to a mind more attuned to that sort of thing. There were a couple of glaring spelling mistakes the last time I used it, that I know I couldn’t possibly have made, so I suspect the damn thing has gremlins, like all these contraptions seem to have. Always doing inexplicable things.

                          At first I was worried about those two women who hadn’t come back out of the old mine yet, and cursed old Sanso for blinking right out like that, but I had the feeling that Sanso was on the case and not to worry. What could I do about it anyway? I reckon one day we’ll hear the story, one way or another.

                          I’ve had enough to think about here with Mater’s latest drama.

                          #4781

                          In reply to: The Stories So Near

                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            Newest developments

                            POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

                            Maeve and Shawn-Paul are travelling separately to the Australian bush, and end up together at the Flying Fish Inn where they discover they’ve been given the same coupons. Maeve is suspicious of a mysterious man following her.
                            Maeve has an exchange with Arona, and sketches her and the cat for her collection of ideas for new dolls. They discover that Arona has the key from her doll.
                            Little is said of what happened after Maeve’s Uncle Fergus appears in dramatic fashion.
                            After the collective black-out, all bets are off as to the next steps.

                            In Canada, Jerk is killing time at the mall, and Lucinda is possibly taking care of Fabio who might be distressed as he’s peeing the doormat regularly.

                            Granola after hopping between threads and realities, detected a psychic blast from the Doctor and while trying to investigate, ended up trapped in a tiny red crystal at the Doctor’s lair.

                            FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

                            After the dramatic arrival of Fergus and the guests, some flirting of Sanso and Idle, Mater’s fashion show, Prune has decided to get back to school after an indigestion of medicinal lizard.

                            Some of the guests, namely Connie and Hilda have gone to explore the mines. Possibly with Devan and Bert in tow.

                            Fergus has mysteriously disappeared after the black-out.

                            DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

                            Arona, Ugo, Albie and Mandrake have left the Australian Inn, after a dramatic chase by unknown assailants, possibly the magpies sent by the Doctor. They reappear in the Doline, in Leörmn’s pool, having managed to get the magpies off their trail.

                            NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

                            The Doctor has managed a psychic event of dramatic proportions. He’s noticed a glowing red crystal that seems to have interfered with his machine. He’s starting to study it, and unravel its secrets.

                            Sharon, Gloria and Mavis, the dynamic trio is planning their escape from the nursing home. The psychic blast seems to have alerted Gloria somehow as to the fate of Granola (B), as she somehow guess it’s linked to the Doctor’s experiments (beauty treatments). They plan to go there to investigate (after a fashion).

                            LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

                            Finnley has disappeared, Liz and Godfrey are to fend for themselves.

                            DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

                            Muriel has left the cottage, and our friends are preparing their travel to the Land of Giant, while some tales are told.
                            Glynnis is teaching bits to a birds’ choir.

                            #4780

                            “B’s in trouble!” Gloria cried out, waking up the two other snoring ladies who almost fell from their rocking chairs.
                            “Whatcha sayin’ my Glor’?” Sharon was the first to react once she put her hand on her teeth.
                            “Sayin’ that our B’s in trouble!”
                            “Can’t let that be, cannit?” Sharon retorted “But where daya think you got your intel’ love, ain’t our B dead last year?”
                            “Sure thing but I got up one my brainwaves, t’was vivid as day, like when I got my cataract all strung up and the good doctors lazered my eyes aye. She was stuck in a big ruby!”
                            “Ahaha, that’s got to be a big ruby fossur’, remember ‘ow big our B was!”
                            “Oh shush Shar’, lemme thing alright. Think it all links back to our beauty treatments I’m sure, hasn’t anybody answered our advert’?” Gloria asked Mavis
                            “Oh bleedin’ hell no, I forgot to check, lemme get my spectacles, dear!” Mavis answered.

                            THERE, THERE!” Mavis jumped at the article. “A time and location for a rendez-vous.” she said suggestively. “When do we sneak out?”

                            “Tonight, tonight alright, all my store of Stillnox is already in the water supply, everybody’s going to snore in no time.”

                            Glor’, I think we’ll have a problem.” Sharon said plaintively. “I drank plenty of the ol’ water supply alright too, the doctor said I needed to drink plenty with my lady problems and all.”

                            #4779
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              Jerk was waiting for the courrier to pick-up the documents and deliver the mail before closing down, and while the mall’s activity was still painfully slow, he was observing the tos and fros of the few people outside.
                              Summer was on its last leg, and there were signs that the city workers would soon come back. Nothing like cranky business people in addition to cranky old people to spice up your day.

                              Maintenance had not come yet. He’d noticed his dead pixel had stopped blinking anyway. Instead it was showing a single red dot.

                              The courrier guy arrived at last. “Never a quiet time, man!” he said maybe as a sort of excuse for his tardiness. Maybe Jerk needed to change his own line of work, since the other’s job looked so thrilling. He signed the documents distractedly, and was ready to lower the iron curtain to close the shop when the guy called him back. “Oh wait, I forgot to give you that.”

                              Jerk looked at the letter, and opened it to find a postcard. That’s when he remembered he’d given the address of the mall to the mysterious Ms M. from the findmydolls forum. Couldn’t be too careful, there were so many weirdos on the Internet.

                              It came from Australia? Half a cup of blue sand was enclosed in a clear plastic wrap bag, along with the postcard.

                              The postcard wasn’t saying much, but it was intriguing.

                              “No network there, so I’m sending a card. Hope it will reach in time. You must flood your group with fake addresses of dolls. It’ll send mysterious nefarious parties off-track and avoid casualties. Otherwise, lovely weather, beautiful scenery. Ms M.
                              PS: Do what you want with the blue powder, I just found it too lovely not to share.”

                              #4747

                              In reply to: The Stories So Near

                              ÉricÉric
                              Keymaster

                                WHERE ARE THEY ALL NOW ? 🗻

                                a.k.a. the map thread, and because everything happens now anyway.

                                POP-IN THREAD (Maeve, Lucinda, Shawn-Paul, Jerk, [Granola])

                                🌀 [map link] – KELOWNA, B.C., CANADA

                                It looks like our group of friends live in Canada, Kelowna.

                                Kelowna is a city on Okanagan Lake in the Okanagan Valley in the southern interior of British Columbia, Canada. The name Kelowna derives from an Okanagan language term for “grizzly bear”. The city’s motto: “Fruitful in Unity”

                                Interestingly, Leörmn the dragon from the Doline may have visited from time to time : Ogopogo / Oggie / Naitaka

                                FLYING FISH INN THREAD (Mater/Finly, Idle/Coriander/Clove, Devan, Prune, [Tiku])

                                Though very off the beaten track, the Flying Fish Inn may be located near a location that was a clue left as a prank by Corrie & Clove on the social media to lure conspiracy theorists to the Inn.
                                🔑 ///digger.unusually.playfully

                                It seems to link to a place near documented old abandoned mines.

                                🌀 [map link]  – SOME PLACE IN THE MIDDLE OF AUSTRALIA, OFF ARLTUNGA ROAD

                                DOLINE THREAD (Arona, Sanso/Lottie, Ugo, Albie)

                                This one is a tricky geographical conundrum, since the Doline is a multi-dimensional hub. It connects multiple realities and places though bodies of water, with the cave structure (the Doline) at its center, a world on its own right, where talking animals and unusual creatures are not uncommon.

                                It has shown to connect places in the Bayou in Louisiana, where Albie & Mandrake went to see the witch, as well as the coastal area of Australia, where they emerged next in their search for Arona.

                                At the center of the Doline is a mysterious dragon named Leörmn, purveyor of precious traveling pearls and impossible riddles. We thus may infer possible intersection points in our dimension, such as 🔑 ///mysterious.dragon.riddle a little North of Hawaii, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

                                However, the inside of the Doline would look rather like Phong Nha-Ke Bang gigantic cave in Vietnam.

                                NEWSREEL THREAD (Ms Bossy, Hilda/Connie, Sophie, Ricardo)

                                It is not very clear where our favourite investigative team is located. They are likely to be near an urban area with a well-connected international airport, given their propensity for impromptu traveling, such as in Iceland and Australia.

                                For all we know, they could be settled in Germany: 🔑 ///newspapers.gone.crazy
                                or Denmark 🔑 ///publish.odds.news

                                As for the Doctor, we strongly suspect his current hideout to be also revealed when searching from his signature beautification prescription that has made him famous in connoisseur circles: 🔑 ///beauty.treatment.shot at the frontier of Sweden and Finland.

                                LIZ THREAD (Finnley, Liz, Roberto, Godfrey)

                                We don’t really know where the story happens; for that, one would need to dive into Liz’s turbulent past, and that would confound the most sane individual, starting with keeping count of her past husbands.

                                As a self-made powerful best-selling writer, we could guess she would take herself to be the JK Rowling of the Unplotted Booker Prize, and thus would be a well-traveled British uptart, sorry upstart, with a fondness for mansions with character and gardeners with toned glutes. Of course, one would need the staff.

                                DRAGON 💚 WOOD THREAD (Glynnis, Eleri, Fox/Gorrash, Rukshan)

                                This story happens in another completely different dimension, but it can be interesting to explore some of its unusual geography.

                                The World revolved around a central axis, and different worlds stacked one upon the other, with the central axis like an elevator.

                                We know of

                                • the World of Humans, where most of the story takes place
                                • the world of Gods, above it, which has been sealed off, and where most Gods disappeared in the old ages
                                • Under these two, the world of Giants exists, still to be explored.

                                At the intersection of the central axis of the world and the human world, radiates the Heartwood, a mystical forest powered by the Gem of Creation which has been here since the Dawn of Times, and is a intricate maze, and a dimension in itself. It had grown around itself different woods and glades and forests, with various level of magical properties meant to repel intruders or lesser than Godlike beings.

                                The Fae dimension is a particular dimension which exists parallel to the Human World, accessible only to Elder Faes, and where the race originated, and is now mostly deserted, as Faes’ magic waning with the encroachment of humans into the Forest, most have chosen to live in the Forests and try and protect them.

                                #4737
                                ÉricÉric
                                Keymaster

                                  “Oooh, isn’t that a funny place” Granola was surprised to have jumped in the odd unexplored corners of the story.
                                  “No wait, that’s just a rambling thread, not even a story… No matter.”

                                  While the paint was drying on the fresh developments, she had found herself slowed down and frozen in still frames while she was waiting for her friends to move the characters along. It was a rather unpleasant situation —granted, it was still a nice change from the erratic jumps from mental spaces to mental spaces.
                                  But, now it was getting boring, and when her monkey mind was getting bored, she started to shift again.
                                  She blinked back a few times; it was like hitting a refresh button to see if the characters had moved while she was gone, after all, her focus Tiku has her own agency. But since all time was now, it was really just a matter of tuning to the right frequency and follow the mood. Gosh, she started to think like Ailil; it wasn’t a comforting thought.

                                  “What is there to learn here? I’m obviously getting lost in sideway explorations.”

                                  She was familiar with the theory of the Hero’s Journey (or Heroine, thank you), and she found that progress and fun was often found in the most chaotic of places, exploring and transcending the unknown. Even if the natural tendency was to draw back to the known. But known is boring and stale, right?

                                  The Man in Pistachio was still somewhere around, with the Teleporter in Pink, and the Telepath in Teal. That much was known, but not much else.
                                  It was tempting to add more things to the known, like their names, and garments and things. How long before these known would lead to more forgotten things?

                                  Would she dare? After all, nobody was here to see and judge. And what’s more, it would beat the waiting for another plot advancement.

                                  She decided to be the Grinner in Bordeaux. Wait, that was too poetic, and too confusing… and too French.
                                  So, let us be the Red Woman in Grin.

                                  And she would be called Josette.

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