Daily Random Quote

  • Well, Illi thought, I could shelter under this heavy cape, but what would be the point of that? It’s smelly and dark under there, at least the rain is light and clean. What I need to find is a cave. I’ll create a cave to find! Wouldn’t be much fun to just create a cave, Illi reasoned, ... · ID #149 (continued)
    (next in 18h 35min…)

Latest Activity

Search Results for 'next'

Forums Search Search Results for 'next'

Viewing 20 results - 121 through 140 (of 566 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #6451

    In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

    The progress on the quest in the Land of the Quirks was too tantalizing; Xavier made himself a quick sandwich and jumped back on it during his lunch break.

    The jungle had an oppressing quality… Maybe it has to do with the shrieks of the apes tearing the silence apart.   

    It was time for a slight adjustment of his avatar.

    Xavimunk opened his bag of tricks, something that the wise owl had suggested he looked into. Few items from the AIorium Emporium had been supplied. They tended to shift and disappear if you didn’t focus, but his intention was set on the task at hand. At the bottom of the bag, there was a small vial with a golden liquid with a tag written in ornate handwriting “MJ remix: for when words elude and shapes confuse at your own peril”.

    He gulped the potion without thinking too much. He felt himself shrink, and his arms elongate a little. There, he thought. Imp-munk’s more suited to the mission. Hope the effects will be temporary…

    As Xavier mustered the courage to enter through the front gate, monkeys started to become silent. He couldn’t say if it was an ominous sign, or maybe an effect of his adaptation. The temple’s light inside was gorgeous, but nothing seemed to be there.

    He gestured around, to make the menu appear. He looked again at the instructions on his screen overlay:

    As for possible characters to engage, you may come across a sly fox who claims to know the location of the fruit but will only reveal it in exchange for a favor, or a brave adventurer who has been searching for the Golden Banana for years and may be willing to team up with you.

    Suddenly a loud monkey honking noise came from outside, distracting him.

    What the?… Had to be one of Zara’s remixes. He saw the three dots bleeping on the screen.

    Here’s the Banana bus, hope it helps! Envoy! bugger Enjoy!

    Yep… With the distinct typo-heavy accent, definitely Zara’s style. Strange idea that AL designated her as the leader… He’d have to roll with it.

    Suddenly, as the Banana bus parked in front of the Temple, a horde of Italien speaking tourists started to flock in and snap pictures around. The monkeys didn’t know what to do and seemed to build growing and noisy interest in their assortiment of colorful shoes, flip-flops, boots and all.

     

    Focus, thought Xavimunk… What did the wise owl say? Look for a guide…
    Only the huge colorful bus seemed to take the space now… But wait… what if?

    He walked to the parking spot under the shades of the huge banyan tree next to the temple’s entrance, under which the bus driver had parked it. The driver was still there, napping under a newspaper, his legs on the wheel.
    “Whatcha lookin’ at?” he said chewing his gum loudly. “Never seen a fox drive a banana bus before?”
    Xavier smiled. “Any chance you can guide me to the location of the Golden Banana?”
    “For a price… maybe.” The fox had jumped closely and was considering the strange avatar from head to toe.
    “Ain’t no usual stuff that got you into this? Got any left? That would be a nice price.”
    “As it happens…” Xavier smiled.

    The quest seemed back on track. Xavier looked at the time. Blimmey! already late again. And I promised Brytta to get some Chinese snacks for dinner.

    #6448

    In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    #6426

    In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys

    The artificial lights of Berlin were starting to switch off in the horizon, leaving the night plunged in darkness minutes before the sunrise. It was a moment of peace that Xavier enjoyed, although it reminded him of how sleepless his night had been.

    The game had taken a side step, as he’d been pouring all his attention into his daytime job, and his personal project with Artificial Life AL. It was a long way from the little boy at school with dyslexia who was using cheeky jokes as a way to get by the snides. Since then, he’d known some of the unusual super-powers this condition gave him as well. Chiefly: abstract and out-of-the-box thinking, puzzle-solving genius, and an almost other-worldly ability at keeping track of the plot. All these skills were in fact of tremendous help at his work, which was blending traditional areas of technology along with massive amounts of loosely connected data.

    He yawned and went to brush his teeth. His usual meditation routine had also been disrupted by the activity of late, but he just couldn’t go to bed without a little time to cool off and calm down the agitation of his thoughts.

    Sitting on the meditation mat, his thoughts strayed off towards the preparation for the trip. Going to Australia would have seemed exciting a few years back, but the idea of packing a suitcase, and going through the long flight and the logistics involved got him more anxious than excited, despite the contagious enthusiasm of his friends. Since he’d settled in Berlin, after never settling for too long in one place (his job afforded him to work wherever whenever), he’d kind of stopped looking for the next adventure. He hadn’t even looked at flight options yet, and hoped that the building momentum would spur him into this adventure. For now, he needed the rest.

    The quirk quest assigned to his persona in the game was fun. Monkeys and Golden banana to look for, wise owls and sly foxes, the whimsical goofy nature of the quest seemed good for the place he was in.
    AL had been suggesting the players to insert the game elements into their realities, and sometimes its comments or instructions seemed to slip between layers of reality — this was an intriguing mystery to Xavier.
    He’d instructed AL to discreetly assist Youssef with his trouble — the Thi Gang seemed to be an ethical hacker developer company front for more serious business. Chatter on the net had tied it to a network of shell companies involved in some strange activities. A name had popped up, linked to mysterious recluse billionaire Botty Banworth, the owner of Youssef’s boss rival blog named Knoweth.

    He slipped into the bed, careful not to wake up Brytta, who was sleeping tightly. It was her day off, otherwise she would have been gone already to her shift. It would be good to connect in the morning, and enjoy some break from mind stuff. They had planned a visit to Kantonstrasse (the local Chinatown) for Chinese New Year, and he couldn’t wait for it.

    #6423

    In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Zara’s first quest:

      entry level quirk: wandering off the track

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

      Possible directions to investigate include:

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

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

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

      Possible characters to engage include:

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

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

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

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

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

      For Zara’s quest:

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

      Emoji clue:  🐈🌳 :cat_confused:

       

      Zara (the character in the game)

      characteristics from previous prompts:

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

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

       

      Zara (the real life story character)

      characteristics from previous prompts:

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

      prompt quest:

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

      #6407

      In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        [Following the last comment] Fed the AL this context:

        1. “A gripshawk is feline-like anthropomorphic creature living in the deserts in a fiction written by Yurara Fameliki. It is the least favorite character to pick by Zara who doesn’t like “fantasy stuff”.
        2. The “Flying Fish Inn” is a fictional (or maybe real) Inn set in the Australian outback, owned by a family headed by the matriarch Mater and involved in many adventures, sometimes surnatural.
        3. “AL” is an AI build with Al’s persona (Albert Yokozo being a famous author, possibly a nom de plume of the mysterious Ernrich Lemwon) – it is known as Calli in another story.

        Please continue the story unfolding here:
        <feeding FP’s comment>

        “Yeah, I’m not a fan of fantasy stuff either,” Youssef added, agreeing with Zara. “But I’m curious about the Flying Fish Inn and how it relates to the game. Maybe we should check it out and see if there are any clues there.”

        “That’s a good idea,” Yasmin said. “I’ve heard the stories about the Inn and the adventures the family has had there. Some of them are quite intriguing, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a connection to our game.”

        “I’m not sure about the AI,” Xavier said. “It’s still a mystery to me, but I trust AL will guide us in the right direction. I’m curious to see where this all leads.”

        “Alright, let’s plan a trip to the Flying Fish Inn,” Zara said, excitedly. “We’ll take a break from the game for a few days, but we’ll come back to it with fresh eyes and new insights. Who knows, maybe we’ll even find some quirky guests along the way.”

        As they were discussing their plans, they all felt a sense of excitement and curiosity about what the future holds for them. The game and the world of the Land of the Quirks had captured their imagination and they were eager to see where it would lead them next.

        #6381

        In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Tell me more about the clues that Zara, Youssef, Xavier and Yasmin will find on their journeys to discover their inner quirky natures

          As Zara, Youssef, Xavier and Yasmin journeyed through the Land of the Quirks to discover their inner quirky natures, they encountered various clues that helped them on their journey.

          One of the clues they found was a mysterious map that led them to different locations, each one representing a different aspect of their personalities. The map also had various riddles and puzzles that they had to solve in order to progress to the next location.

          Another clue they found was a series of journal entries written by a previous explorer who had also journeyed through the Land of the Quirks. The journal entries provided insight and wisdom on how to navigate the land and how to understand and accept one’s quirks.

          They also encountered a group of strange and eccentric characters who each represented a different aspect of their personalities. These characters provided guidance and helped them understand different parts of themselves. They also helped them understand the importance of accepting and embracing their quirks.

          They also found a series of symbols and artifacts that represented different parts of their personalities. These symbols and artifacts were like puzzle pieces that, when put together, helped them understand the bigger picture of their inner quirky natures.

          As they continued their journey, they also learned that the key to discovering their inner quirky natures was not only about finding the physical “Key of Quirks”, but also about understanding and accepting themselves, their faults and their strengths, and learning to embrace their unique quirks.

           

          Finding their inner quirks sounds quite definitive. how would you make the ending more open-ended, open to multiple series and iterations of the story without sounding repetitive

          As Zara, Youssef, Xavier and Yasmin journeyed through the Land of the Quirks, they discovered their inner quirky natures, but the journey was far from over. They found that their inner quirks were constantly evolving and changing, and that the Land of the Quirks was a vast and mysterious place with many more secrets to uncover.

          The group found that the “Key of Quirks” was not just a physical object but a symbol of self-discovery and self-acceptance. They learned that understanding and accepting oneself is a lifelong journey that never truly ends.

          As they returned to their own world, they realized that they had gained a new perspective on life and that they would continue to carry the lessons they learned in the Land of the Quirks with them. They knew that they would always be on the lookout for new adventures and opportunities to continue exploring themselves and the world around them.

          The group’s journey in the Land of the Quirks had come to an end but the story was not over. The characters would continue to grow, evolve and change as they experienced new adventures, challenges and self-discoveries. The ending was open-ended and leaves the possibility for multiple series and iterations of the story, each one exploring new aspects of the characters and the Land of the Quirks, without being repetitive.

          Will they go a try to travel through another of the orbs?

          It is possible that the group will want to explore other orbs and realms in the Land of the Quirks. The Land of the Quirks is described as a vast and mysterious place with many secrets to uncover, so the possibility of traveling through other orbs or realms is open. They may be tempted to see what other adventures and discoveries await them in these new places.

          Alternatively, they might decide to take a break from their adventures, and reflect on what they’ve learned, applying it to their daily life, and maybe in the future, they will decide to come back to the Land of the Quirks and explore other orbs, or they may find other means of self-discovery and self-acceptance. In any case, the story leaves it open-ended and the characters have the freedom to choose what they want to do next.

          How did they discover the orb in the first place?

          It is not specified how the group discovered the orb in the first place. It could be that they stumbled upon it while on a hike or a camping trip, or it could be that they were on a mission to find it specifically. It could also be that the orb was something that had always been there but had gone unnoticed until one of the group members stumbled upon it.

          Perhaps it was passed down from generation to generation as a legend, or maybe they found it while they were searching for something else. The story leaves it open-ended and it’s up to the reader’s imagination. The main focus of the story is on the journey and the lessons learned along the way, rather than the specifics of how the orb was discovered.

          #6344
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            The Tetbury Riots

             

            While researching the Tetbury riots  (I had found some Browning names in the newspaper archives in association with the uprisings) I came across an article called “Elizabeth Parker, the Swing Riots, and the Tetbury parish clerk” by Jill Evans.

            I noted the name of the parish clerk, Daniel Cole, because I know someone else of that name. The incident in the article was 1830.

            I found the 1826 marriage in the Tetbury parish registers (where Daniel was the parish clerk) of my 4x great grandmothers sister Hesther Lock. One of the witnesses was her brother Charles, and the other was Daniel Cole, the parish clerk.

            Marriage of Lewin Chandler and Hesther Lock in 1826:

            Daniel Cole witness

             

            from the article:

            “The Swing Riots were disturbances which took place in 1830 and 1831, mostly in the southern counties of England. Agricultural labourers, who were already suffering due to low wages and a lack of work after several years of bad harvests, rose up when their employers introduced threshing machines into their workplaces. The riots got their name from the threatening letters which were sent to farmers and other employers, which were signed “Captain Swing.”

            The riots spread into Gloucestershire in November 1830, with the Tetbury area seeing the worst of the disturbances. Amongst the many people arrested afterwards was one woman, Elizabeth Parker. She has sometimes been cited as one of only two females who were transported for taking part in the Swing Riots. In fact, she was sentenced to be transported for this crime, but never sailed, as she was pardoned a few months after being convicted. However, less than a year after being released from Gloucester Gaol, she was back, awaiting trial for another offence. The circumstances in both of the cases she was tried for reveal an intriguing relationship with one Daniel Cole, parish clerk and assistant poor law officer in Tetbury….

            ….Elizabeth Parker was committed to Gloucester Gaol on 4 December 1830. In the Gaol Registers, she was described as being 23 and a “labourer”. She was in fact a prostitute, and she was unusual for the time in that she could read and write. She was charged on the oaths of Daniel Cole and others with having been among a mob which destroyed a threshing machine belonging to Jacob Hayward, at his farm in Beverstone, on 26 November.

            …..Elizabeth Parker was granted royal clemency in July 1831 and was released from prison. She returned to Tetbury and presumably continued in her usual occupation, but on 27 March 1832, she was committed to Gloucester Gaol again. This time, she was charged with stealing 2 five pound notes, 5 sovereigns and 5 half sovereigns, from the person of Daniel Cole.

            Elizabeth was tried at the Lent Assizes which began on 28 March, 1832. The details of her trial were reported in the Morning Post. Daniel Cole was in the “Boat Inn” (meaning the Boot Inn, I think) in Tetbury, when Elizabeth Parker came in. Cole “accompanied her down the yard”, where he stayed with her for about half an hour. The next morning, he realised that all his money was gone. One of his five pound notes was identified by him in a shop, where Parker had bought some items.

            Under cross-examination, Cole said he was the assistant overseer of the poor and collector of public taxes of the parish of Tetbury. He was married with one child. He went in to the inn at about 9 pm, and stayed about 2 hours, drinking in the parlour, with the landlord, Elizabeth Parker, and two others. He was not drunk, but he was “rather fresh.” He gave the prisoner no money. He saw Elizabeth Parker next morning at the Prince and Princess public house. He didn’t drink with her or give her any money. He did give her a shilling after she was committed. He never said that he would not have prosecuted her “if it was not for her own tongue”. (Presumably meaning he couldn’t trust her to keep her mouth shut.)”

            Contemporary illustration of the Swing riots:

            Swing Riots

             

            Captain Swing was the imaginary leader agricultural labourers who set fire to barns and haystacks in the southern and eastern counties of England from 1830. Although the riots were ruthlessly put down (19 hanged, 644 imprisoned and 481 transported), the rural agitation led the new Whig government to establish a Royal Commission on the Poor Laws and its report provided the basis for the 1834 New Poor Law enacted after the Great Reform Bills of 1833.

            An original portrait of Captain Swing hand coloured lithograph circa 1830:

            Captain Swing

            #6342
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Brownings of Tetbury

              Tetbury 1839

               

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

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

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

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

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

              Ellen Harding Browning

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

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

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

               

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

               

              And again in 1836:

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

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

              Susan was 56 when she died in Tetbury in 1879.

               

              Three of the Browning daughters went to London.

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

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

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

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

               

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

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

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

              #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.

                #6334
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  The House on Penn Common

                  Toi Fang and the Duke of Sutherland

                   

                  Tomlinsons

                   

                   

                  Penn Common

                  Grassholme

                   

                  Charles Tomlinson (1873-1929) my great grandfather, was born in Wolverhampton in 1873. His father Charles Tomlinson (1847-1907) was a licensed victualler or publican, or alternatively a vet/castrator. He married Emma Grattidge (1853-1911) in 1872. On the 1881 census they were living at The Wheel in Wolverhampton.

                  Charles married Nellie Fisher (1877-1956) in Wolverhampton in 1896. In 1901 they were living next to the post office in Upper Penn, with children (Charles) Sidney Tomlinson (1896-1955), and Hilda Tomlinson (1898-1977) . Charles was a vet/castrator working on his own account.

                  In 1911 their address was 4, Wakely Hill, Penn, and living with them were their children Hilda, Frank Tomlinson (1901-1975), (Dorothy) Phyllis Tomlinson (1905-1982), Nellie Tomlinson (1906-1978) and May Tomlinson (1910-1983). Charles was a castrator working on his own account.

                  Charles and Nellie had a further four children: Charles Fisher Tomlinson (1911-1977), Margaret Tomlinson (1913-1989) (my grandmother Peggy), Major Tomlinson (1916-1984) and Norah Mary Tomlinson (1919-2010).

                  My father told me that my grandmother had fallen down the well at the house on Penn Common in 1915 when she was two years old, and sent me a photo of her standing next to the well when she revisted the house at a much later date.

                  Peggy next to the well on Penn Common:

                  Peggy well Penn

                   

                  My grandmother Peggy told me that her father had had a racehorse called Toi Fang. She remembered the racing colours were sky blue and orange, and had a set of racing silks made which she sent to my father.
                  Through a DNA match, I met Ian Tomlinson. Ian is the son of my fathers favourite cousin Roger, Frank’s son. Ian found some racing silks and sent a photo to my father (they are now in contact with each other as a result of my DNA match with Ian), wondering what they were.

                  Toi Fang

                   

                  When Ian sent a photo of these racing silks, I had a look in the newspaper archives. In 1920 there are a number of mentions in the racing news of Mr C Tomlinson’s horse TOI FANG. I have not found any mention of Toi Fang in the newspapers in the following years.

                  The Scotsman – Monday 12 July 1920:

                  Toi Fang

                   

                   

                  The other story that Ian Tomlinson recalled was about the house on Penn Common. Ian said he’d heard that the local titled person took Charles Tomlinson to court over building the house but that Tomlinson won the case because it was built on common land and was the first case of it’s kind.

                  Penn Common

                   

                  Penn Common Right of Way Case:
                  Staffordshire Advertiser March 9, 1912

                  In the chancery division, on Tuesday, before Mr Justice Joyce, it was announced that a settlement had been arrived at of the Penn Common Right of Way case, the hearing of which occupied several days last month. The action was brought by the Duke of Sutherland (as Lord of the Manor of Penn) and Mr Harry Sydney Pitt (on behalf of himself and other freeholders of the manor having a right to pasturage on Penn Common) to restrain Mr James Lakin, Carlton House, Penn; Mr Charles Tomlinson, Mayfield Villa, Wakely Hill, Penn; and Mr Joseph Harold Simpkin, Dudley Road, Wolverhampton, from drawing building materials across the common, or otherwise causing injury to the soil.

                  The real point in dispute was whether there was a public highway for all purposes running by the side of the defendants land from the Turf Tavern past the golf club to the Barley Mow.
                  Mr Hughes, KC for the plaintiffs, now stated that the parties had been in consultation, and had come to terms, the substance of which was that the defendants admitted that there was no public right of way, and that they were granted a private way. This, he thought, would involve the granting of some deed or deeds to express the rights of the parties, and he suggested that the documents should be be settled by some counsel to be mutually agreed upon.

                  His lordship observed that the question of coal was probably the important point. Mr Younger said Mr Tomlinson was a freeholder, and the plaintiffs could not mine under him. Mr Hughes: The coal actually under his house is his, and, of course, subsidence might be produced by taking away coal some distance away. I think some document is required to determine his actual rights.
                  Mr Younger said he wanted to avoid anything that would increase the costs, but, after further discussion, it was agreed that Mr John Dixon (an expert on mineral rights), or failing him, another counsel satisfactory to both parties, should be invited to settle the terms scheduled in the agreement, in order to prevent any further dispute.

                   

                  Penn Common case

                   

                  The name of the house is Grassholme.  The address of Mayfield Villas is the house they were living in while building Grassholme, which I assume they had not yet moved in to at the time of the newspaper article in March 1912.

                   

                   

                  What my grandmother didn’t tell anyone was how her father died in 1929:

                   

                  1929 Charles Tomlinson

                   

                   

                  On the 1921 census, Charles, Nellie and eight of their children were living at 269 Coleman Street, Wolverhampton.

                  1921 census Tomlinson

                   

                   

                  They were living on Coleman Street in 1915 when Charles was fined for staying open late.

                  Staffordshire Advertiser – Saturday 13 February 1915:

                   

                  1915 butcher fined

                   

                  What is not yet clear is why they moved from the house on Penn Common sometime between 1912 and 1915. And why did he have a racehorse in 1920?

                  #6315

                  In reply to: The Sexy Wooden Leg

                  It was not yet 9am and Eusebius Kazandis was already sweating. The morning sun was hitting hard on the tarp of his booth. He put the last cauldron among lines of cauldrons on a sagging table at the summer fair of Innsbruck, Austria. It was a tiny three-legged black cauldron with a simple Celtic knot on one side and a tree on the other side, like all the others. His father’s father’s father used to make cauldrons for a living, the kind you used to distil ouzo or cook meals for an Inn. But as time went by and industrialisation made it easier for cooks, the trade slowly evolved toward smaller cauldrons for modern Wiccans. A modern witch wanted it portable and light, ready to use in everyday life situations, and Eusebius was there to provide it for them.

                  Eusebius sat on his chair and sighed. He couldn’t help but notice the woman in colourful dress who had spread a shawl on the grass under the tall sequoia tree. Nobody liked this spot under the branches oozing sticky resin. She didn’t seem to mind. She was arranging small colourful bottles of oil on her shawl. A sign near her said : Massage oils, Fragrant oils, Polishing oils, all with different names evocative of different properties. He hadn’t noticed her yesterday when everybody was installing their stalls. He wondered if she had paid her fee.

                  Rosa was smiling as she spread in front of her the meadow flowers she’d picked on her way to the market. It was another beautiful day, under the shade and protection of the big sequoia tree watching over her. She assembled small bouquets and put them in between the vials containing her precious handmade oils. She had noticed people, and especially women, would naturally gather around well dressed stalls and engage conversation. Since she left her hometown of Torino, seven years ago, she’d followed the wind on her journey across Europe. It had led her to Innsbruck and had suddenly stopped blowing. That usually meant she had something to do there, but it also meant that she would have to figure out what she was meant to do before she could go on with her life.

                  The stout man waiting behind his dark cauldrons, was watching her again. He looked quite sad, and she couldn’t help but thinking he was not where he needed to be. When she looked at him, she saw Hephaestus whose inner fire had been tamed. His banner was a mishmash of religious stuff, aimed at pagans and budding witches. Although his grim booth would most certainly benefit from a feminine touch, but she didn’t want to offend him by a misplaced suggestion. It was not her place to find his place.

                  Rosa, who knew to cultivate any available friendship when she arrived somewhere, waved at the man. Startled, he looked away as if caught doing something inappropriate. Rosa sighed. Maybe she should have bring him some coffee.

                  As her first clients arrived, she prayed for a gush of wind to tell her where to go next. But the branches of the old tree remained perfectly still under the scorching sun.

                  #6312

                  In reply to: The Sexy Wooden Leg

                  When she’d heard of the miracle happening at the Flovlinden Tree, Egna initially shrugged it off as another conman’s attempt at fooling the crowds.

                  “No, it’s real, my Auntie saw it.”

                  “Stop fretting” she’d told the little girl, as she was carefully removing the lice from her hair. “This is just someone’s idea of a smart joke. Don’t get fooled, you’re smarter than this.”

                  She sure wasn’t responsible for that one. If that were a true miracle, she would have known. The little calf next week being resuscitated after being dead a few minutes, well, that was her. Shame nobody was even there to notice. Most of the best miracles go about this way anyway.

                  So, after having lived close to a millennia in relatively rock solid health and with surprisingly unaging looks, Egna had thought she’d seen it all; at least last time the tree started to ooze sacred oil, it didn’t last for too long, people’s greed starting to sell it stopped it right in its tracks.

                  But maybe there was more to it this time. Egna’d often wondered why God had let her live that long. She was a useful instrument to Her for sure, but living in secrecy, claiming no ownership, most miracles were just facts of life. She somehow failed to see the point, even after 957 years of existence.

                  The little girl had left to go back to her nearby town. This side of the country was still quite safe from all the craziness. Egna knew well most of the branches of the ancestral trees leading to that particular little leaf. This one had probably no idea she shared a common ancestor with President Voldomeer, but Egna remembered the fellow. He was a clogmaker in the turn of the 18th century, as was his father before. That was until a rather unexpected turn of events precipitated him to a different path as his brother.

                  She had a book full of these records, as she’d tracked the lives of many, to keep them alive, and maybe remind people they all share so much in common. That is, if people were able to remember more than 2 generations before them.

                  “Well, that’s set.” she said to herself and to Her as She’s always listening “I’ll go and see for myself.”
                  her trusty old musty cloak at the door seemed to have been begging for the journey.

                  #6299

                  In reply to: The Sexy Wooden Leg

                  Looking at the blemish feverish man on the camp bed, General Lyaksandro Rudechenko clenched his fists. The wooden leg, that had been the symbol of the Oocranian Resistance for the last year was now lying on the floor. President Voldomeer had contracted a virus that confounded their best doctors and the remaining chiefs of the Oocranian Resistance feared he would soon join the men fallen for their country.

                  — Nobody must know that the sexiest man of Oocrane is incapacitated. We need a replacement, said the General.

                  — President Voldomeer told me of a man, the very man who made that wooden leg, said Major Myroslava Kovalev, the candle light reflecting in her glass eye. He lives in the Dumbass region. He’s a secret twin or something, President Voldomeer was not so clear about that part, but at least they look alike. To make it more real, we can have his leg removed, she added pointing at the wooden leg.

                  She was proud of being one of the only women ranking that high in the military. His fellow people might not be Lazies, but they had some old idea about women, that were not the best choice for fighting. Myroslava had always wanted to prove them wrong, and this conflict had been her chance to rise almost to the top. She looked at the dying man who was once her ladder. He had been sexy, and certainly could do many things with his wooden leg. Now he was but the shadow of a man, pale and blurry as cataract. If she had loved him, she might have shed a tear.

                  Myroslava looked at General Rudechenko’s pockmarked face and shivered. She wouldn’t even share a cab with him. But he was the next in command, and before Voldomeer fell ill, she was on her way to take his place, even closer to the top.

                  — Let me bring him to you, she added.

                  — That’s a suicide mission, said the general. Permission granted.

                  — Thank you General ! said Myroslava doing the military salute before leaving the tent.

                  Despite his being from Dumbass and having made some mistakes in his life, Lyaksandro was not stupid. He knew quite well what that woman wanted. He called, Glib, his aide-de-camp.

                  — Make sure she gets lost behind the enemy lines.

                  #6298

                  The Rootians invaded Oocrane when everybody was busy looking elsewhere. They entered through the Dumbass region under the pretense of freeing it from Lazies who had infiltrated administrations and media. They often cited a recent short movie from president Voldomeer Zumbaskee in which he appeared in purple leather panties adorned with diamonds, showing unashamedly his wooden leg. The same wooden leg that gave him the status of sexiest man of Oocrane and got him elected. In one of his famous discourses, he accused the Rootian president, Valdamir Potomsky of wanting to help himself to their crops of turnip and weed of which the world depended. And he told him if he expected Lazies he would be surprised by their resolution to defend their country.

                  By a simple game of chance that reality is so fond of, the man who made the president’s very wooden leg was also called Voldomeer Zumbasky. They might share a common ancestor, but many times in the past population records were destroyed and it was difficult to tell. That man lived in the small city of Duckailingtown in Dumbass, near the Rootian border. He was renowned to be a great carpenter and sculptor and before the war people would come from the neighbooring countries to buy his work.

                  During the invasion, crops and forests were burnt, buildings were destroyed and Dumbass Voldomeer lost one leg. There were no more trees or beams that hadn’t been turned to ashes, and he had only one block of wood left. Enough to make another wooden leg for himself. But he wondered: wasn’t there something more useful he could do with that block of wood ?

                  One morning of spring, one year after the war started. Food was scarce in Duckailingtown and Voldomeer’s belly growled as he walked past the nest of a couple of swans. He counted nine beautiful eggs that the parents were arranging with their beaks before lying on top to keep them warm. He found it so touching to see life in this place that he couldn’t bear the idea of simply stealing the eggs.

                  He went back home, a shelter made of bricks, his stomach aching from starvation. Looking at the block of wood on the floor, he got an idea. He spent the rest of the day and night to carve nine beautiful eggs so smooth that they appeared warm to the touch. He put so much care and love in his work that the swans would see no difference.

                  The next morning he went back to the nest with a leather bag, hopping heartily on his lone leg. The eggs were still there and by chance both the parents were missing. He didn’t care why. He took the eggs and replaced them with the wooden ones.

                  That day, he ate the best omelet with his friend Rooby, and as far as one could tell the swans were still brooding by the end of summer.

                  #6281
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    The Measham Thatchers

                    Orgills, Finches and Wards

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

                    ORGILL

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

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

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

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

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

                    Matthew Orgills will

                     

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

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

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

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

                     

                    Matthew and Elizabeth Orgill, Measham Baptist church:

                    Orgill grave

                     

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

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

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

                    Bosworth road

                     

                    FINCH

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

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

                    WARD

                     

                    The ancient boundary between the kingdom of Mercia and the Danelaw

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

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

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

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

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

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

                    The Borders:

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

                    Richard Dunmore’s Appleby Magma website.

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

                    Appleby

                     

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

                     

                    #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-

                      #6272
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        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
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          The Housley Letters

                          FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS

                          from Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

                           

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

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

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

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

                          Lyon 1861 census

                           

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

                           

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                          In The Derbyshire Advertiser and Journal, 15 May 1863:

                          Davy Death

                           

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

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

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

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

                          Kiddsley Park Farm

                           

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

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

                          #6269
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            The Housley Letters 

                            From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters.

                             

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

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

                            William and Ellen Marriage

                             

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

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

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

                             

                            ELLEN HOUSLEY 1795-1872

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

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

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

                             

                            Mary’s children:

                            MARY ANN HOUSLEY  1808-1878

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

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

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

                             

                            WILLIAM HOUSLEY JR. 1812-1890

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

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

                             

                            Ellen’s children:

                            JOHN HOUSLEY  1815-1893

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

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

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

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

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

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

                            John Housley

                             

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

                             

                            SAMUEL HOUSLEY 1816-

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

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

                            Housley Deaths

                             

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

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

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

                             

                            EDWARD HOUSLEY 1819-1843

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

                             

                            ANNE HOUSLEY 1821-1856

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

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

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

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

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

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

                            The Carrington Farm:

                            Carringtons Farm

                             

                            CHARLES HOUSLEY 1823-1855

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

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

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

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

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

                             

                            GEORGE HOUSLEY 1824-1877

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                             

                            ROBERT HOUSLEY 1832-1851

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

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

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

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

                             

                            EMMA HOUSLEY 1836-1871

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

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

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

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

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

                            Emma Housley and Edwin Welch Harvey wedding, 1858:

                            Emma Housley wedding

                             

                            JOSEPH HOUSLEY 1838-1893

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                            Joseph Housley and the Kiddsley cottages:

                            Joseph Housley

                            #6268
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              From Tanganyika with Love

                              continued part 9

                              With thanks to Mike Rushby.

                              Lyamungu 3rd January 1945

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

                              Lyamungu 14 May 1945

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

                              Lyamungu 19th September 1945

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

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

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

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

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

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

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

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

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

                              Jacksdale England 24th June 1946

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

                              Jacksdale England 28th August 1946

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

                              Jacksdale England 20th September 1946

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

                              Dar es Salaam 22nd October 1946

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

                              Mbeya 1st November 1946

                              Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              Eleanor.

                            Viewing 20 results - 121 through 140 (of 566 total)

                            Daily Random Quote

                            • Well, Illi thought, I could shelter under this heavy cape, but what would be the point of that? It’s smelly and dark under there, at least the rain is light and clean. What I need to find is a cave. I’ll create a cave to find! Wouldn’t be much fun to just create a cave, Illi reasoned, ... · ID #149 (continued)
                              (next in 18h 35min…)

                            Recent Replies

                            WordCloud says