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  • #7638

    The Bell’s Moment: Paris, Summer 2024 – Olympic Games

    The bell was dangling unassumingly from the side pocket of a sports bag, its small brass frame swinging lightly with the jostle of the crowd. The bag belonged to an American tourist, a middle-aged man in a rumpled USA Basketball T-shirt, hustling through the Olympic complex with his family in tow. They were here to cheer for his niece, a rising star on the team, and the bell—a strange little heirloom from his grandmother—had been an afterthought, clipped to the bag for luck. It seemed to fit right in with the bright chaos of the Games, blending into the swirl of flags, chants, and the hum of summer excitement.

    1st Ring of the Bell: Matteo

    The vineyard was quiet except for the hum of cicadas and the soft rustle of leaves. Matteo leaned against the tractor, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

    “You’ve done good work,” the supervisor said, clapping Matteo on the shoulder. “We’ll be finishing this batch by Friday.”

    Matteo nodded. “And after that?”

    The older man shrugged. “Some go north, some go south. You? You’ve got that look—like you already know where you’re headed.”

    Matteo offered a half-smile, but he couldn’t deny it. He’d felt the tug for days, like a thread pulling him toward something undefined. The idea of returning to Paris had slipped into his thoughts quietly, as if it had been waiting for the right moment.

    When his phone buzzed later that evening with a job offer to do renovation work in Paris, it wasn’t a surprise. He poured himself a small glass of wine, toasting the stars overhead.

    Somewhere, miles away, the bell rang its first note.

    2nd Ring of the Bell: Darius

    In a shaded square in Barcelona, the air was thick with the scent of jasmine and the echo of a street performer’s flamenco guitar. Darius sprawled on a wrought-iron bench, his leather-bound journal open on his lap. He sketched absentmindedly, the lines of a temple taking shape on the page.

    A man wearing a scarf of brilliant orange sat down beside him, his energy magnetic. “You’re an artist,” the man said without preamble, his voice carrying the cadence of Kolkata.

    “Sometimes,” Darius replied, his pen still moving.

    “Then you should come to India,” the man said, grinning. “There’s art everywhere. In the streets, in the temples, even in the food.”

    Darius chuckled. “You recruiting me?”

    “India doesn’t need recruiters,” the man replied. “It calls people when it’s time.”

    The bell rang again in Paris, its chime faint and melodic, as Darius scribbled the words “India, autumn” in the corner of his page.

    3rd Ring of the Bell: Elara

    The crowd at CERN’s conference hall buzzed as physicists exchanged ideas, voices overlapping like equations scribbled on whiteboards. Elara sat at a corner table, sipping lukewarm coffee and scrolling through her messages.

    The voicemail notification glared at her, and she tapped it reluctantly.

    Elara, it’s Florian. I… I’m sorry to tell you this over a message, but your mother passed away last night.”

    Her coffee cup trembled slightly as she set it down.

    Her relationship with her mother had been fraught, full of alternating period of silences and angry reunions, and had settled lately into careful politeness that masked deeper fractures. Years of therapy had softened the edges of her resentment but hadn’t erased it. She had come to accept that they would never truly understand each other, but the finality of death still struck her with a peculiar weight.

    Her mother had been living alone in Montrouge, France, refusing to leave the little house Elara had begged her to sell for years. They had drifted apart, their conversations perfunctory and strained, like the ritual of winding a clock that no longer worked.

    She would have to travel to Montrouge for the funeral arrangements.

    In that moment, the bell in Les Reliques rang a third time.

    4th Ring of the Bell: Lucien

    The train to Lausanne glided through fields of dried up sunflowers, too early for the season, but the heat had been relentless. He could imagine the golden blooms swaying with a cracking sound in the summer breeze. Lucien stared out the window, the strap of his duffel bag wrapped tightly around his wrist.

    Paris had been suffocating. The tourists swarmed the city like ants, turning every café into a photo opportunity and every quiet street into a backdrop. He hadn’t needed much convincing to take his friend up on the offer of a temporary studio in Lausanne.

    He reached into his bag and pulled out a sketchbook. The pages were filled with half-finished drawings, but one in particular caught his eye: a simple doorway with an ornate bell hanging above it.

    He didn’t remember drawing it, but the image felt familiar, like a memory from a dream.

    The bell rang again in Paris, its resonance threading through the quiet hum of the train.

    5th Ring of the Bell: …. Tabitha

    In the courtyard of her university residence, Tabitha swung lazily in a hammock, her phone propped precariously on her chest.

    “Goa, huh?” one of her friends asked, leaning against the tree holding up the hammock. “Think your mum will freak out?”

    “She’ll probably worry herself into knots,” Tabitha replied, laughing. “But she won’t say no. She’s good at the whole supportive parent thing. Or at least pretending to be.”

    Her friend raised an eyebrow. “Pretending?”

    “Don’t get me wrong, I love her,” Tabitha said. “But she’s got her own stuff. You know, things she never really talks about. I think it’s why she works so much. Keeps her distracted.”

    The bell rang faintly in Paris, though neither of them could hear it.

    “Maybe you should tell her to come with you,” the friend suggested.

    Tabitha grinned. “Now that would be a trip.”

    Last Ring: The Pawn

    It was now sitting on the counter at Les Reliques. Its brass surface gleamed faintly in the dim shop light, polished by the waves of time. Small and unassuming, its ring held something inexplicably magnetic.

    Time seemed to settle heavily around it. In the heat of the Olympic summer, it rang six times. Each chime marked a moment that mattered, though none of the characters whose lives it touched understood why. Not yet.

    “Where’d you get this?” the shopkeeper asked as the American tourist placed it down.

    “It was my grandma’s,” he said, shrugging. “She said it was lucky. I just think it’s old.”

    The shopkeeper ran her fingers over the brass surface, her expression unreadable. “And you’re selling it?”

    “Need cash to get tickets for the USA basketball game tomorrow,” the man replied. “Quarterfinals. You follow basketball?”

    “Not anymore,” the shopkeeper murmured, handing him a stack of bills.

    The bell rang softly as she placed it on the velvet cloth, its sound settling into the space like a secret waiting to be uncovered.

    And so it sat, quiet but full of presence, waiting for someone to claim it maybe months later, drawn by invisible threads woven through the magnetic field of lives, indifferent to the heat and chaos of the Parisian streets.

    #6306
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Looking for Robert Staley

       

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

      Marriage of John Staley and Jane Brothers in 1820:

      1820 marriage Armagh

       

       

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      fire engine

       

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

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

       

      Looking for Robert Staley

       

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

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

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

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

       

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

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

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

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

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

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

      The marriage of Robert Staley and Elizabeth Milner in 1735:

      rbt staley marriage 1735

       

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

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

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

      The Marsden Connection

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

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

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

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

      by
      David Dalrymple-Smith

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

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

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

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

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

       

      The 1795 will of Robert Staley.

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

      The will of Robert Staley, 1795:

      1795 will 2

      1795 Rbt Staley will

       

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

       

      #6286
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Matthew Orgill and His Family

         

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

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

        LATE MATTHEW ORGILL PEACEFUL END TO A BLAMELESS LIFE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

         

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

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

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

        Matthew Orgill window

        Matthew orgill window 2

         

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

        Measham Wharf

         

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

        Old Measham wharf

         

        But what to make of the inscription in the window?

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

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

         

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

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

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

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

        Another Orgill Orgill marriage!

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

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

        #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-

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            The Housley Letters

            The Carringtons

            Carrington Farm, Smalley:

            Carrington Farm

             

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

             

            From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

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

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

            RICHARD

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

             

            THOMAS

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

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

             

            JOHN

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

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

            FRANK (see above)

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

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

            William and Mary Carrington:

            William Carrington

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              The Housley Letters 

              From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters.

               

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

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

              William and Ellen Marriage

               

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

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

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

               

              ELLEN HOUSLEY 1795-1872

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

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

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

               

              Mary’s children:

              MARY ANN HOUSLEY  1808-1878

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

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

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

               

              WILLIAM HOUSLEY JR. 1812-1890

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

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

               

              Ellen’s children:

              JOHN HOUSLEY  1815-1893

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

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

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

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

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

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

              John Housley

               

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

               

              SAMUEL HOUSLEY 1816-

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

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

              Housley Deaths

               

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

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

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

               

              EDWARD HOUSLEY 1819-1843

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

               

              ANNE HOUSLEY 1821-1856

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

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

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

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

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

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

              The Carrington Farm:

              Carringtons Farm

               

              CHARLES HOUSLEY 1823-1855

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

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

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

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

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

               

              GEORGE HOUSLEY 1824-1877

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

               

              ROBERT HOUSLEY 1832-1851

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

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

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

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

               

              EMMA HOUSLEY 1836-1871

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

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

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

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

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

              Emma Housley and Edwin Welch Harvey wedding, 1858:

              Emma Housley wedding

               

              JOSEPH HOUSLEY 1838-1893

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

              Joseph Housley and the Kiddsley cottages:

              Joseph Housley

              #6265
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                From Tanganyika with Love

                continued  ~ part 6

                With thanks to Mike Rushby.

                Mchewe 6th June 1937

                Dearest Family,

                Home again! We had an uneventful journey. Kate was as good as gold all the
                way. We stopped for an hour at Bulawayo where we had to change trains but
                everything was simplified for me by a very pleasant man whose wife shared my
                compartment. Not only did he see me through customs but he installed us in our new
                train and his wife turned up to see us off with magazines for me and fruit and sweets for
                Kate. Very, very kind, don’t you think?

                Kate and I shared the compartment with a very pretty and gentle girl called
                Clarice Simpson. She was very worried and upset because she was going home to
                Broken Hill in response to a telegram informing her that her young husband was
                dangerously ill from Blackwater Fever. She was very helpful with Kate whose
                cheerfulness helped Clarice, I think, though I, quite unintentionally was the biggest help
                at the end of our journey. Remember the partial dentures I had had made just before
                leaving Cape Town? I know I shall never get used to the ghastly things, I’ve had them
                two weeks now and they still wobble. Well this day I took them out and wrapped them
                in a handkerchief, but when we were packing up to leave the train I could find the
                handkerchief but no teeth! We searched high and low until the train had slowed down to
                enter Broken Hill station. Then Clarice, lying flat on the floor, spied the teeth in the dark
                corner under the bottom bunk. With much stretching she managed to retrieve the
                dentures covered in grime and fluff. My look of horror, when I saw them, made young
                Clarice laugh. She was met at the station by a very grave elderly couple. I do wonder
                how things turned out for her.

                I stayed overnight with Kate at the Great Northern Hotel, and we set off for
                Mbeya by plane early in the morning. One of our fellow passengers was a young
                mother with a three week old baby. How ideas have changed since Ann was born. This
                time we had a smooth passage and I was the only passenger to get airsick. Although
                there were other women passengers it was a man once again, who came up and
                offered to help. Kate went off with him amiably and he entertained her until we touched
                down at Mbeya.

                George was there to meet us with a wonderful surprise, a little red two seater
                Ford car. She is a bit battered and looks a bit odd because the boot has been
                converted into a large wooden box for carrying raw salt, but she goes like the wind.
                Where did George raise the cash to buy a car? Whilst we were away he found a small
                cave full of bat guano near a large cave which is worked by a man called Bob Sargent.
                As Sargent did not want any competition he bought the contents of the cave from
                George giving him the small car as part payment.

                It was lovely to return to our little home and find everything fresh and tidy and the
                garden full of colour. But it was heartbreaking to go into the bedroom and see George’s
                precious forgotten boots still standing by his empty bed.

                With much love,
                Eleanor.

                Mchewe 25th June 1937

                Dearest Family,

                Last Friday George took Kate and me in the little red Ford to visit Mr Sargent’s
                camp on the Songwe River which cuts the Mbeya-Mbosi road. Mr Sargent bought
                Hicky-Wood’s guano deposit and also our small cave and is making a good living out of
                selling the bat guano to the coffee farmers in this province. George went to try to interest
                him in a guano deposit near Kilwa in the Southern Province. Mr Sargent agreed to pay
                25 pounds to cover the cost of the car trip and pegging costs. George will make the trip
                to peg the claim and take samples for analysis. If the quality is sufficiently high, George
                and Mr Sargent will go into partnership. George will work the claim and ship out the
                guano from Kilwa which is on the coast of the Southern Province of Tanganyika. So now
                we are busy building castles in the air once more.

                On Saturday we went to Mbeya where George had to attend a meeting of the
                Trout Association. In the afternoon he played in a cricket match so Kate and I spent the
                whole day with the wife of the new Superintendent of Police. They have a very nice
                new house with lawns and a sunken rose garden. Kate had a lovely romp with Kit, her
                three year old son.

                Mrs Wolten also has two daughters by a previous marriage. The elder girl said to
                me, “Oh Mrs Rushby your husband is exactly like the strong silent type of man I
                expected to see in Africa but he is the only one I have seen. I think he looks exactly like
                those men in the ‘Barney’s Tobacco’ advertisements.”

                I went home with a huge pile of magazines to keep me entertained whilst
                George is away on the Kilwa trip.

                Lots of love,
                Eleanor.

                Mchewe 9th July 1937

                Dearest Family,

                George returned on Monday from his Kilwa safari. He had an entertaining
                tale to tell.

                Before he approached Mr Sargent about going shares in the Kilwa guano
                deposit he first approached a man on the Lupa who had done very well out of a small
                gold reef. This man, however said he was not interested so you can imagine how
                indignant George was when he started on his long trip, to find himself being trailed by
                this very man and a co-driver in a powerful Ford V8 truck. George stopped his car and
                had some heated things to say – awful threats I imagine as to what would happen to
                anyone who staked his claim. Then he climbed back into our ancient little two seater and
                went off like a bullet driving all day and most of the night. As the others took turns in
                driving you can imagine what a feat it was for George to arrive in Kilwa ahead of them.
                When they drove into Kilwa he met them with a bright smile and a bit of bluff –
                quite justifiable under the circumstances I think. He said, you chaps can have a rest now,
                you’re too late.” He then whipped off and pegged the claim. he brought some samples
                of guano back but until it has been analysed he will not know whether the guano will be
                an economic proposition or not. George is not very hopeful. He says there is a good
                deal of sand mixed with the guano and that much of it was damp.

                The trip was pretty eventful for Kianda, our houseboy. The little two seater car
                had been used by its previous owner for carting bags of course salt from his salt pans.
                For this purpose the dicky seat behind the cab had been removed, and a kind of box
                built into the boot of the car. George’s camp kit and provisions were packed into this
                open box and Kianda perched on top to keep an eye on the belongings. George
                travelled so fast on the rough road that at some point during the night Kianda was
                bumped off in the middle of the Game Reserve. George did not notice that he was
                missing until the next morning. He concluded, quite rightly as it happened, that Kianda
                would be picked up by the rival truck so he continued his journey and Kianda rejoined
                him at Kilwa.

                Believe it or not, the same thing happened on the way back but fortunately this
                time George noticed his absence. He stopped the car and had just started back on his
                tracks when Kianda came running down the road still clutching the unlighted storm lamp
                which he was holding in his hand when he fell. The glass was not even cracked.
                We are finding it difficult just now to buy native chickens and eggs. There has
                been an epidemic amongst the poultry and one hesitates to eat the survivors. I have a
                brine tub in which I preserve our surplus meat but I need the chickens for soup.
                I hope George will be home for some months. He has arranged to take a Mr
                Blackburn, a wealthy fruit farmer from Elgin, Cape, on a hunting safari during September
                and October and that should bring in some much needed cash. Lillian Eustace has
                invited Kate and me to spend the whole of October with her in Tukuyu.
                I am so glad that you so much enjoy having Ann and George with you. We miss
                them dreadfully. Kate is a pretty little girl and such a little madam. You should hear the
                imperious way in which she calls the kitchenboy for her meals. “Boy Brekkis, Boy Lunch,
                and Boy Eggy!” are her three calls for the day. She knows no Ki-Swahili.

                Eleanor

                Mchewe 8th October 1937

                Dearest Family,

                I am rapidly becoming as superstitious as our African boys. They say the wild
                animals always know when George is away from home and come down to have their
                revenge on me because he has killed so many.

                I am being besieged at night by a most beastly leopard with a half grown cub. I
                have grown used to hearing leopards grunt as they hunt in the hills at night but never
                before have I had one roaming around literally under the windows. It has been so hot at
                night lately that I have been sleeping with my bedroom door open onto the verandah. I
                felt quite safe because the natives hereabouts are law-abiding and in any case I always
                have a boy armed with a club sleeping in the kitchen just ten yards away. As an added
                precaution I also have a loaded .45 calibre revolver on my bedside table, and Fanny
                our bullterrier, sleeps on the mat by my bed. I am also looking after Barney, a fine
                Airedale dog belonging to the Costers. He slept on a mat by the open bedroom door
                near a dimly burning storm lamp.

                As usual I went to sleep with an easy mind on Monday night, but was awakened
                in the early hours of Tuesday by the sound of a scuffle on the front verandah. The noise
                was followed by a scream of pain from Barney. I jumped out of bed and, grabbing the
                lamp with my left hand and the revolver in my right, I rushed outside just in time to see
                two animal figures roll over the edge of the verandah into the garden below. There they
                engaged in a terrific tug of war. Fortunately I was too concerned for Barney to be
                nervous. I quickly fired two shots from the revolver, which incidentally makes a noise like
                a cannon, and I must have startled the leopard for both animals, still locked together,
                disappeared over the edge of the terrace. I fired two more shots and in a few moments
                heard the leopard making a hurried exit through the dry leaves which lie thick under the
                wild fig tree just beyond the terrace. A few seconds later Barney appeared on the low
                terrace wall. I called his name but he made no move to come but stood with hanging
                head. In desperation I rushed out, felt blood on my hands when I touched him, so I
                picked him up bodily and carried him into the house. As I regained the verandah the boy
                appeared, club in hand, having been roused by the shots. He quickly grasped what had
                happened when he saw my blood saturated nightie. He fetched a bowl of water and a
                clean towel whilst I examined Barney’s wounds. These were severe, the worst being a
                gaping wound in his throat. I washed the gashes with a strong solution of pot permang
                and I am glad to say they are healing remarkably well though they are bound to leave
                scars. Fanny, very prudently, had taken no part in the fighting except for frenzied barking
                which she kept up all night. The shots had of course wakened Kate but she seemed
                more interested than alarmed and kept saying “Fanny bark bark, Mummy bang bang.
                Poor Barney lots of blood.”

                In the morning we inspected the tracks in the garden. There was a shallow furrow
                on the terrace where Barney and the leopard had dragged each other to and fro and
                claw marks on the trunk of the wild fig tree into which the leopard climbed after I fired the
                shots. The affair was of course a drama after the Africans’ hearts and several of our
                shamba boys called to see me next day to make sympathetic noises and discuss the
                affair.

                I went to bed early that night hoping that the leopard had been scared off for
                good but I must confess I shut all windows and doors. Alas for my hopes of a restful
                night. I had hardly turned down the lamp when the leopard started its terrifying grunting
                just under the bedroom windows. If only she would sniff around quietly I should not
                mind, but the noise is ghastly, something like the first sickening notes of a braying
                donkey, amplified here by the hills and the gorge which is only a stones throw from the
                bedroom. Barney was too sick to bark but Fanny barked loud enough for two and the more
                frantic she became the hungrier the leopard sounded. Kate of course woke up and this
                time she was frightened though I assured her that the noise was just a donkey having
                fun. Neither of us slept until dawn when the leopard returned to the hills. When we
                examined the tracks next morning we found that the leopard had been accompanied by
                a fair sized cub and that together they had prowled around the house, kitchen, and out
                houses, visiting especially the places to which the dogs had been during the day.
                As I feel I cannot bear many more of these nights, I am sending a note to the
                District Commissioner, Mbeya by the messenger who takes this letter to the post,
                asking him to send a game scout or an armed policeman to deal with the leopard.
                So don’t worry, for by the time this reaches you I feel sure this particular trouble
                will be over.

                Eleanor.

                Mchewe 17th October 1937

                Dearest Family,

                More about the leopard I fear! My messenger returned from Mbeya to say that
                the District Officer was on safari so he had given the message to the Assistant District
                Officer who also apparently left on safari later without bothering to reply to my note, so
                there was nothing for me to do but to send for the village Nimrod and his muzzle loader
                and offer him a reward if he could frighten away or kill the leopard.

                The hunter, Laza, suggested that he should sleep at the house so I went to bed
                early leaving Laza and his two pals to make themselves comfortable on the living room
                floor by the fire. Laza was armed with a formidable looking muzzle loader, crammed I
                imagine with nuts and bolts and old rusty nails. One of his pals had a spear and the other
                a panga. This fellow was also in charge of the Petromax pressure lamp whose light was
                hidden under a packing case. I left the campaign entirely to Laza’s direction.
                As usual the leopard came at midnight stealing down from the direction of the
                kitchen and announcing its presence and position with its usual ghastly grunts. Suddenly
                pandemonium broke loose on the back verandah. I heard the roar of the muzzle loader
                followed by a vigourous tattoo beaten on an empty paraffin tin and I rushed out hoping
                to find the dead leopard. however nothing of the kind had happened except that the
                noise must have scared the beast because she did not return again that night. Next
                morning Laza solemnly informed me that, though he had shot many leopards in his day,
                this was no ordinary leopard but a “sheitani” (devil) and that as his gun was no good
                against witchcraft he thought he might as well retire from the hunt. Scared I bet, and I
                don’t blame him either.

                You can imagine my relief when a car rolled up that afternoon bringing Messers
                Stewart and Griffiths, two farmers who live about 15 miles away, between here and
                Mbeya. They had a note from the Assistant District Officer asking them to help me and
                they had come to set up a trap gun in the garden. That night the leopard sniffed all
                around the gun and I had the added strain of waiting for the bang and wondering what I
                should do if the beast were only wounded. I conjured up horrible visions of the two little
                totos trotting up the garden path with the early morning milk and being horribly mauled,
                but I needn’t have worried because the leopard was far too wily to be caught that way.
                Two more ghastly nights passed and then I had another visitor, a Dr Jackson of
                the Tsetse Department on safari in the District. He listened sympathetically to my story
                and left his shotgun and some SSG cartridges with me and instructed me to wait until the
                leopard was pretty close and blow its b—– head off. It was good of him to leave his
                gun. George always says there are three things a man should never lend, ‘His wife, his
                gun and his dog.’ (I think in that order!)I felt quite cheered by Dr Jackson’s visit and sent
                once again for Laza last night and arranged a real show down. In the afternoon I draped
                heavy blankets over the living room windows to shut out the light of the pressure lamp
                and the four of us, Laza and his two stooges and I waited up for the leopard. When we
                guessed by her grunts that she was somewhere between the kitchen and the back door
                we all rushed out, first the boy with the panga and the lamp, next Laza with his muzzle
                loader, then me with the shotgun followed closely by the boy with the spear. What a
                farce! The lamp was our undoing. We were blinded by the light and did not even
                glimpse the leopard which made off with a derisive grunt. Laza said smugly that he knew
                it was hopeless to try and now I feel tired and discouraged too.

                This morning I sent a runner to Mbeya to order the hotel taxi for tomorrow and I
                shall go to friends in Mbeya for a day or two and then on to Tukuyu where I shall stay
                with the Eustaces until George returns from Safari.

                Eleanor.

                Mchewe 18th November 1937

                My darling Ann,

                Here we are back in our own home and how lovely it is to have Daddy back from
                safari. Thank you very much for your letter. I hope by now you have got mine telling you
                how very much I liked the beautiful tray cloth you made for my birthday. I bet there are
                not many little girls of five who can embroider as well as you do, darling. The boy,
                Matafari, washes and irons it so carefully and it looks lovely on the tea tray.

                Daddy and I had some fun last night. I was in bed and Daddy was undressing
                when we heard a funny scratching noise on the roof. I thought it was the leopard. Daddy
                quickly loaded his shotgun and ran outside. He had only his shirt on and he looked so
                funny. I grabbed the loaded revolver from the cupboard and ran after Dad in my nightie
                but after all the rush it was only your cat, Winnie, though I don’t know how she managed
                to make such a noise. We felt so silly, we laughed and laughed.

                Kate talks a lot now but in such a funny way you would laugh to her her. She
                hears the houseboys call me Memsahib so sometimes instead of calling me Mummy
                she calls me “Oompaab”. She calls the bedroom a ‘bippon’ and her little behind she
                calls her ‘sittendump’. She loves to watch Mandawi’s cattle go home along the path
                behind the kitchen. Joseph your donkey, always leads the cows. He has a lazy life now.
                I am glad you had such fun on Guy Fawkes Day. You will be sad to leave
                Plumstead but I am sure you will like going to England on the big ship with granny Kate.
                I expect you will start school when you get to England and I am sure you will find that
                fun.

                God bless my dear little girl. Lots of love from Daddy and Kate,
                and Mummy

                Mchewe 18th November 1937

                Hello George Darling,

                Thank you for your lovely drawing of Daddy shooting an elephant. Daddy says
                that the only thing is that you have drawn him a bit too handsome.

                I went onto the verandah a few minutes ago to pick a banana for Kate from the
                bunch hanging there and a big hornet flew out and stung my elbow! There are lots of
                them around now and those stinging flies too. Kate wears thick corduroy dungarees so
                that she will not get her fat little legs bitten. She is two years old now and is a real little
                pickle. She loves running out in the rain so I have ordered a pair of red Wellingtons and a
                tiny umbrella from a Nairobi shop for her Christmas present.

                Fanny’s puppies have their eyes open now and have very sharp little teeth.
                They love to nip each other. We are keeping the fiercest little one whom we call Paddy
                but are giving the others to friends. The coffee bushes are full of lovely white flowers
                and the bees and ants are very busy stealing their honey.

                Yesterday a troop of baboons came down the hill and Dad shot a big one to
                scare the others off. They are a nuisance because they steal the maize and potatoes
                from the native shambas and then there is not enough food for the totos.
                Dad and I are very proud of you for not making a fuss when you went to the
                dentist to have that tooth out.

                Bye bye, my fine little son.
                Three bags full of love from Kate, Dad and Mummy.

                Mchewe 12th February, 1938

                Dearest Family,

                here is some news that will please you. George has been offered and has
                accepted a job as Forester at Mbulu in the Northern Province of Tanganyika. George
                would have preferred a job as Game Ranger, but though the Game Warden, Philip
                Teare, is most anxious to have him in the Game Department, there is no vacancy at
                present. Anyway if one crops up later, George can always transfer from one
                Government Department to another. Poor George, he hates the idea of taking a job. He
                says that hitherto he has always been his own master and he detests the thought of
                being pushed around by anyone.

                Now however he has no choice. Our capitol is almost exhausted and the coffee
                market shows no signs of improving. With three children and another on the way, he
                feels he simply must have a fixed income. I shall be sad to leave this little farm. I love
                our little home and we have been so very happy here, but my heart rejoices at the
                thought of overseas leave every thirty months. Now we shall be able to fetch Ann and
                George from England and in three years time we will all be together in Tanganyika once
                more.

                There is no sale for farms so we will just shut the house and keep on a very small
                labour force just to keep the farm from going derelict. We are eating our hens but will
                take our two dogs, Fanny and Paddy with us.

                One thing I shall be glad to leave is that leopard. She still comes grunting around
                at night but not as badly as she did before. I do not mind at all when George is here but
                until George was accepted for this forestry job I was afraid he might go back to the
                Diggings and I should once more be left alone to be cursed by the leopard’s attentions.
                Knowing how much I dreaded this George was most anxious to shoot the leopard and
                for weeks he kept his shotgun and a powerful torch handy at night.

                One night last week we woke to hear it grunting near the kitchen. We got up very
                quietly and whilst George loaded the shotgun with SSG, I took the torch and got the
                heavy revolver from the cupboard. We crept out onto the dark verandah where George
                whispered to me to not switch on the torch until he had located the leopard. It was pitch
                black outside so all he could do was listen intently. And then of course I spoilt all his
                plans. I trod on the dog’s tin bowl and made a terrific clatter! George ordered me to
                switch on the light but it was too late and the leopard vanished into the long grass of the
                Kalonga, grunting derisively, or so it sounded.

                She never comes into the clearing now but grunts from the hillside just above it.

                Eleanor.

                Mbulu 18th March, 1938

                Dearest Family,

                Journeys end at last. here we are at Mbulu, installed in our new quarters which are
                as different as they possibly could be from our own cosy little home at Mchewe. We
                live now, my dears, in one wing of a sort of ‘Beau Geste’ fort but I’ll tell you more about
                it in my next letter. We only arrived yesterday and have not had time to look around.
                This letter will tell you just about our trip from Mbeya.

                We left the farm in our little red Ford two seater with all our portable goods and
                chattels plus two native servants and the two dogs. Before driving off, George took one
                look at the flattened springs and declared that he would be surprised if we reached
                Mbeya without a breakdown and that we would never make Mbulu with the car so
                overloaded.

                However luck was with us. We reached Mbeya without mishap and at one of the
                local garages saw a sturdy used Ford V8 boxbody car for sale. The garage agreed to
                take our small car as part payment and George drew on our little remaining capitol for the
                rest. We spent that night in the house of the Forest Officer and next morning set out in
                comfort for the Northern Province of Tanganyika.

                I had done the journey from Dodoma to Mbeya seven years before so was
                familiar with the scenery but the road was much improved and the old pole bridges had
                been replaced by modern steel ones. Kate was as good as gold all the way. We
                avoided hotels and camped by the road and she found this great fun.
                The road beyond Dodoma was new to me and very interesting country, flat and
                dry and dusty, as little rain falls there. The trees are mostly thorn trees but here and there
                one sees a giant baobab, weird trees with fantastically thick trunks and fat squat branches
                with meagre foliage. The inhabitants of this area I found interesting though. They are
                called Wagogo and are a primitive people who ape the Masai in dress and customs
                though they are much inferior to the Masai in physique. They are also great herders of
                cattle which, rather surprisingly, appear to thrive in that dry area.

                The scenery alters greatly as one nears Babati, which one approaches by a high
                escarpment from which one has a wonderful view of the Rift Valley. Babati township
                appears to be just a small group of Indian shops and shabby native houses, but I
                believe there are some good farms in the area. Though the little township is squalid,
                there is a beautiful lake and grand mountains to please the eye. We stopped only long
                enough to fill up with petrol and buy some foodstuffs. Beyond Babati there is a tsetse
                fly belt and George warned our two native servants to see that no tsetse flies settled on
                the dogs.

                We stopped for the night in a little rest house on the road about 80 miles from
                Arusha where we were to spend a few days with the Forest Officer before going on to
                Mbulu. I enjoyed this section of the road very much because it runs across wide plains
                which are bounded on the West by the blue mountains of the Rift Valley wall. Here for
                the first time I saw the Masai on their home ground guarding their vast herds of cattle. I
                also saw their strange primitive hovels called Manyattas, with their thorn walled cattle
                bomas and lots of plains game – giraffe, wildebeest, ostriches and antelope. Kate was
                wildly excited and entranced with the game especially the giraffe which stood gazing
                curiously and unafraid of us, often within a few yards of the road.

                Finally we came across the greatest thrill of all, my first view of Mt Meru the extinct
                volcano about 16,000 feet high which towers over Arusha township. The approach to
                Arusha is through flourishing coffee plantations very different alas from our farm at Mchewe. George says that at Arusha coffee growing is still a paying proposition
                because here the yield of berry per acre is much higher than in the Southern highlands
                and here in the North the farmers have not such heavy transport costs as the railway runs
                from Arusha to the port at Tanga.

                We stayed overnight at a rather second rate hotel but the food was good and we
                had hot baths and a good nights rest. Next day Tom Lewis the Forest Officer, fetched
                us and we spent a few days camping in a tent in the Lewis’ garden having meals at their
                home. Both Tom and Lillian Lewis were most friendly. Tom lewis explained to George
                what his work in the Mbulu District was to be, and they took us camping in a Forest
                Reserve where Lillian and her small son David and Kate and I had a lovely lazy time
                amidst beautiful surroundings. Before we left for Mbulu, Lillian took me shopping to buy
                material for curtains for our new home. She described the Forest House at Mbulu to me
                and it sounded delightful but alas, when we reached Mbulu we discovered that the
                Assistant District Officer had moved into the Forest House and we were directed to the
                Fort or Boma. The night before we left Arusha for Mbulu it rained very heavily and the
                road was very treacherous and slippery due to the surface being of ‘black cotton’ soil
                which has the appearance and consistency of chocolate blancmange, after rain. To get to
                Mbulu we had to drive back in the direction of Dodoma for some 70 miles and then turn
                to the right and drive across plains to the Great Rift Valley Wall. The views from this
                escarpment road which climbs this wall are magnificent. At one point one looks down
                upon Lake Manyara with its brilliant white beaches of soda.

                The drive was a most trying one for George. We had no chains for the wheels
                and several times we stuck in the mud and our two houseboys had to put grass and
                branches under the wheels to stop them from spinning. Quite early on in the afternoon
                George gave up all hope of reaching Mbulu that day and planned to spend the night in
                a little bush rest camp at Karatu. However at one point it looked as though we would not
                even reach this resthouse for late afternoon found us properly bogged down in a mess
                of mud at the bottom of a long and very steep hill. In spite of frantic efforts on the part of
                George and the two boys, all now very wet and muddy, the heavy car remained stuck.
                Suddenly five Masai men appeared through the bushes beside the road. They
                were all tall and angular and rather terrifying looking to me. Each wore only a blanket
                knotted over one shoulder and all were armed with spears. They lined up by the side of
                the road and just looked – not hostile but simply aloof and supercilious. George greeted
                them and said in Ki-Swahili, “Help to push and I will reward you.” But they said nothing,
                just drawing back imperceptibly to register disgust at the mere idea of manual labour.
                Their expressions said quite clearly “A Masai is a warrior and does not soil his hands.”
                George then did something which startled them I think, as much as me. He
                plucked their spears from their hands one by one and flung them into the back of the
                boxbody. “Now push!” he said, “And when we are safely out of the mud you shall have
                your spears back.” To my utter astonishment the Masai seemed to applaud George’s
                action. I think they admire courage in a man more than anything else. They pushed with a
                will and soon we were roaring up the long steep slope. “I can’t stop here” quoth George
                as up and up we went. The Masai were in mad pursuit with their blankets streaming
                behind. They took a very steep path which was a shortcut to the top. They are certainly
                amazing athletes and reached the top at the same time as the car. Their route of course
                was shorter but much more steep, yet they came up without any sign of fatigue to claim
                their spears and the money which George handed out with a friendly grin. The Masai
                took the whole episode in good heart and we parted on the most friendly terms.

                After a rather chilly night in the three walled shack, we started on the last lap of our
                journey yesterday morning in bright weather and made the trip to Mbulu without incident.

                Eleanor.

                Mbulu 24th March, 1938

                Dearest Family,

                Mbulu is an attractive station but living in this rather romantic looking fort has many
                disadvantages. Our quarters make up one side of the fort which is built up around a
                hollow square. The buildings are single storied but very tall in the German manner and
                there is a tower on one corner from which the Union Jack flies. The tower room is our
                sitting room, and one has very fine views from the windows of the rolling country side.
                However to reach this room one has to climb a steep flight of cement steps from the
                court yard. Another disadvantage of this tower room is that there is a swarm of bees in
                the roof and the stray ones drift down through holes in the ceiling and buzz angrily
                against the window panes or fly around in a most menacing manner.

                Ours are the only private quarters in the Fort. Two other sides of the Fort are
                used as offices, storerooms and court room and the fourth side is simply a thick wall with
                battlements and loopholes and a huge iron shod double door of enormous thickness
                which is always barred at sunset when the flag is hauled down. Two Police Askari always
                remain in the Fort on guard at night. The effect from outside the whitewashed fort is very
                romantic but inside it is hardly homely and how I miss my garden at Mchewe and the
                grass and trees.

                We have no privacy downstairs because our windows overlook the bare
                courtyard which is filled with Africans patiently waiting to be admitted to the courtroom as
                witnesses or spectators. The outside windows which overlook the valley are heavily
                barred. I can only think that the Germans who built this fort must have been very scared
                of the local natives.

                Our rooms are hardly cosy and are furnished with typical heavy German pieces.
                We have a vast bleak bedroom, a dining room and an enormous gloomy kitchen in
                which meals for the German garrison were cooked. At night this kitchen is alive with
                gigantic rats but fortunately they do not seem to care for the other rooms. To crown
                everything owls hoot and screech at night on the roof.

                On our first day here I wandered outside the fort walls with Kate and came upon a
                neatly fenced plot enclosing the graves of about fifteen South African soldiers killed by
                the Germans in the 1914-18 war. I understand that at least one of theses soldiers died in
                the courtyard here. The story goes, that during the period in the Great War when this fort
                was occupied by a troop of South African Horse, a German named Siedtendorf
                appeared at the great barred door at night and asked to speak to the officer in command
                of the Troop. The officer complied with this request and the small shutter in the door was
                opened so that he could speak with the German. The German, however, had not come
                to speak. When he saw the exposed face of the officer, he fired, killing him, and
                escaped into the dark night. I had this tale on good authority but cannot vouch for it. I do
                know though, that there are two bullet holes in the door beside the shutter. An unhappy
                story to think about when George is away, as he is now, and the moonlight throws queer
                shadows in the court yard and the owls hoot.

                However though I find our quarters depressing, I like Mbulu itself very much. It is
                rolling country, treeless except for the plantations of the Forestry Dept. The land is very
                fertile in the watered valleys but the grass on hills and plains is cropped to the roots by
                the far too numerous cattle and goats. There are very few Europeans on the station, only
                Mr Duncan, the District Officer, whose wife and children recently left for England, the
                Assistant District Officer and his wife, a bachelor Veterinary Officer, a Road Foreman and
                ourselves, and down in the village a German with an American wife and an elderly
                Irishman whom I have not met. The Government officials have a communal vegetable
                garden in the valley below the fort which keeps us well supplied with green stuff. 

                Most afternoons George, Kate and I go for walks after tea. On Fridays there is a
                little ceremony here outside the fort. In the late afternoon a little procession of small
                native schoolboys, headed by a drum and penny whistle band come marching up the
                road to a tune which sounds like ‘Two lovely black eyes”. They form up below our tower
                and as the flag is lowered for the day they play ‘God save the King’, and then march off
                again. It is quite a cheerful little ceremony.

                The local Africans are a skinny lot and, I should say, a poor tribe. They protect
                themselves against the cold by wrapping themselves in cotton blankets or a strip of
                unbleached sheeting. This they drape over their heads, almost covering their faces and
                the rest is wrapped closely round their bodies in the manner of a shroud. A most
                depressing fashion. They live in very primitive comfortless houses. They simply make a
                hollow in the hillside and build a front wall of wattle and daub. Into this rude shelter at night
                go cattle and goats, men, women, and children.

                Mbulu village has the usual mud brick and wattle dukas and wattle and daub
                houses. The chief trader is a Goan who keeps a surprisingly good variety of tinned
                foodstuffs and also sells hardware and soft goods.

                The Europeans here have been friendly but as you will have noted there are
                only two other women on station and no children at all to be companions for Kate.

                Eleanor.

                Mbulu 20th June 1938

                Dearest Family,

                Here we are on Safari with George at Babati where we are occupying a rest
                house on the slopes of Ufiome Mountain. The slopes are a Forest Reserve and
                George is supervising the clearing of firebreaks in preparation for the dry weather. He
                goes off after a very early breakfast and returns home in the late afternoon so Kate and I
                have long lazy days.

                Babati is a pleasant spot and the resthouse is quite comfortable. It is about a mile
                from the village which is just the usual collection of small mud brick and corrugated iron
                Indian Dukas. There are a few settlers in the area growing coffee, or going in for mixed
                farming but I don’t think they are doing very well. The farm adjoining the rest house is
                owned by Lord Lovelace but is run by a manager.

                George says he gets enough exercise clambering about all day on the mountain,
                so Kate and I do our walking in the mornings when George is busy, and we all relax in
                the evenings when George returns from his field work. Kate’s favourite walk is to the big
                block of mtama (sorghum) shambas lower down the hill. There are huge swarms of tiny
                grain eating birds around waiting the chance to plunder the mtama, so the crops are
                watched from sunrise to sunset.

                Crude observation platforms have been erected for this purpose in the centre of
                each field and the women and the young boys of the family concerned, take it in turn to
                occupy the platform and scare the birds. Each watcher has a sling and uses clods of
                earth for ammunition. The clod is placed in the centre of the sling which is then whirled
                around at arms length. Suddenly one end of the sling is released and the clod of earth
                flies out and shatters against the mtama stalks. The sling makes a loud whip like crack and
                the noise is quite startling and very effective in keeping the birds at a safe distance.

                Eleanor.

                Karatu 3rd July 1938

                Dearest Family,

                Still on safari you see! We left Babati ten days ago and passed through Mbulu
                on our way to this spot. We slept out of doors one night beside Lake Tiawa about eight
                miles from Mbulu. It was a peaceful spot and we enjoyed watching the reflection of the
                sunset on the lake and the waterhens and duck and pelicans settling down for the night.
                However it turned piercingly cold after sunset so we had an early supper and then all
                three of us lay down to sleep in the back of the boxbody (station wagon). It was a tight
                fit and a real case of ‘When Dad turns, we all turn.’

                Here at Karatu we are living in a grass hut with only three walls. It is rather sweet
                and looks like the setting for a Nativity Play. Kate and I share the only camp bed and
                George and the dogs sleep on the floor. The air here is very fresh and exhilarating and
                we all feel very fit. George is occupied all day supervising the cutting of firebreaks
                around existing plantations and the forest reserve of indigenous trees. Our camp is on
                the hillside and below us lie the fertile wheat lands of European farmers.

                They are mostly Afrikaners, the descendants of the Boer families who were
                invited by the Germans to settle here after the Boer War. Most of them are pro-British
                now and a few have called in here to chat to George about big game hunting. George
                gets on extremely well with them and recently attended a wedding where he had a
                lively time dancing at the reception. He likes the older people best as most are great
                individualists. One fine old man, surnamed von Rooyen, visited our camp. He is a Boer
                of the General Smuts type with spare figure and bearded face. George tells me he is a
                real patriarch with an enormous family – mainly sons. This old farmer fought against the
                British throughout the Boer War under General Smuts and again against the British in the
                German East Africa campaign when he was a scout and right hand man to Von Lettow. It
                is said that Von Lettow was able to stay in the field until the end of the Great War
                because he listened to the advise given to him by von Rooyen. However his dislike for
                the British does not extend to George as they have a mutual interest in big game
                hunting.

                Kate loves being on safari. She is now so accustomed to having me as her nurse
                and constant companion that I do not know how she will react to paid help. I shall have to
                get someone to look after her during my confinement in the little German Red Cross
                hospital at Oldeani.

                George has obtained permission from the District Commissioner, for Kate and
                me to occupy the Government Rest House at Oldeani from the end of July until the end
                of August when my baby is due. He will have to carry on with his field work but will join
                us at weekends whenever possible.

                Eleanor.

                Karatu 12th July 1938

                Dearest Family,

                Not long now before we leave this camp. We have greatly enjoyed our stay
                here in spite of the very chilly earl mornings and the nights when we sit around in heavy
                overcoats until our early bed time.

                Last Sunday I persuaded George to take Kate and me to the famous Ngoro-
                Ngoro Crater. He was not very keen to do so because the road is very bumpy for
                anyone in my interesting condition but I feel so fit that I was most anxious to take this
                opportunity of seeing the enormous crater. We may never be in this vicinity again and in
                any case safari will not be so simple with a small baby.

                What a wonderful trip it was! The road winds up a steep escarpment from which
                one gets a glorious birds eye view of the plains of the Great Rift Valley far, far below.
                The crater is immense. There is a road which skirts the rim in places and one has quite
                startling views of the floor of the crater about two thousand feet below.

                A camp for tourists has just been built in a clearing in the virgin forest. It is most
                picturesque as the camp buildings are very neatly constructed log cabins with very high
                pitched thatched roofs. We spent about an hour sitting on the grass near the edge of the
                crater enjoying the sunshine and the sharp air and really awe inspiring view. Far below us
                in the middle of the crater was a small lake and we could see large herds of game
                animals grazing there but they were too far away to be impressive, even seen through
                George’s field glasses. Most appeared to be wildebeest and zebra but I also picked
                out buffalo. Much more exciting was my first close view of a wild elephant. George
                pointed him out to me as we approached the rest camp on the inward journey. He
                stood quietly under a tree near the road and did not seem to be disturbed by the car
                though he rolled a wary eye in our direction. On our return journey we saw him again at
                almost uncomfortably close quarters. We rounded a sharp corner and there stood the
                elephant, facing us and slap in the middle of the road. He was busily engaged giving
                himself a dust bath but spared time to give us an irritable look. Fortunately we were on a
                slight slope so George quickly switched off the engine and backed the car quietly round
                the corner. He got out of the car and loaded his rifle, just in case! But after he had finished
                his toilet the elephant moved off the road and we took our chance and passed without
                incident.

                One notices the steepness of the Ngoro-Ngoro road more on the downward
                journey than on the way up. The road is cut into the side of the mountain so that one has
                a steep slope on one hand and a sheer drop on the other. George told me that a lorry
                coming down the mountain was once charged from behind by a rhino. On feeling and
                hearing the bash from behind the panic stricken driver drove off down the mountain as
                fast as he dared and never paused until he reached level ground at the bottom of the
                mountain. There was no sign of the rhino so the driver got out to examine his lorry and
                found the rhino horn embedded in the wooden tail end of the lorry. The horn had been
                wrenched right off!

                Happily no excitement of that kind happened to us. I have yet to see a rhino.

                Eleanor.

                Oldeani. 19th July 1938

                Dearest Family,

                Greetings from a lady in waiting! Kate and I have settled down comfortably in the
                new, solidly built Government Rest House which comprises one large living room and
                one large office with a connecting door. Outside there is a kitchen and a boys quarter.
                There are no resident Government officials here at Oldeani so the office is in use only
                when the District Officer from Mbulu makes his monthly visit. However a large Union
                Jack flies from a flagpole in the front of the building as a gentle reminder to the entirely
                German population of Oldeani that Tanganyika is now under British rule.

                There is quite a large community of German settlers here, most of whom are
                engaged in coffee farming. George has visited several of the farms in connection with his
                forestry work and says the coffee plantations look very promising indeed. There are also
                a few German traders in the village and there is a large boarding school for German
                children and also a very pleasant little hospital where I have arranged to have the baby.
                Right next door to the Rest House is a General Dealers Store run by a couple named
                Schnabbe. The shop is stocked with drapery, hardware, china and foodstuffs all
                imported from Germany and of very good quality. The Schnabbes also sell local farm
                produce, beautiful fresh vegetables, eggs and pure rich milk and farm butter. Our meat
                comes from a German butchery and it is a great treat to get clean, well cut meat. The
                sausages also are marvellous and in great variety.

                The butcher is an entertaining character. When he called round looking for custom I
                expected him to break out in a yodel any minute, as it was obvious from a glance that
                the Alps are his natural background. From under a green Tyrollean hat with feather,
                blooms a round beefy face with sparkling small eyes and such widely spaced teeth that
                one inevitably thinks of a garden rake. Enormous beefy thighs bulge from greasy
                lederhosen which are supported by the traditional embroidered braces. So far the
                butcher is the only cheery German, male or female, whom I have seen, and I have met
                most of the locals at the Schnabbe’s shop. Most of the men seem to have cultivated
                the grim Hitler look. They are all fanatical Nazis and one is usually greeted by a raised
                hand and Heil Hitler! All very theatrical. I always feel like crying in ringing tones ‘God
                Save the King’ or even ‘St George for England’. However the men are all very correct
                and courteous and the women friendly. The women all admire Kate and cry, “Ag, das
                kleine Englander.” She really is a picture with her rosy cheeks and huge grey eyes and
                golden curls. Kate is having a wonderful time playing with Manfried, the Scnabbe’s small
                son. Neither understands a word said by the other but that doesn’t seem to worry them.

                Before he left on safari, George took me to hospital for an examination by the
                nurse, Sister Marianne. She has not been long in the country and knows very little
                English but is determined to learn and carried on an animated, if rather quaint,
                conversation with frequent references to a pocket dictionary. She says I am not to worry
                because there is not doctor here. She is a very experienced midwife and anyway in an
                emergency could call on the old retired Veterinary Surgeon for assistance.
                I asked sister Marianne whether she knew of any German woman or girl who
                would look after Kate whilst I am in hospital and today a very top drawer German,
                bearing a strong likeness to ‘Little Willie’, called and offered the services of his niece who
                is here on a visit from Germany. I was rather taken aback and said, “Oh no Baron, your
                niece would not be the type I had in mind. I’m afraid I cannot pay much for a companion.”
                However the Baron was not to be discouraged. He told me that his niece is seventeen
                but looks twenty, that she is well educated and will make a cheerful companion. Her
                father wishes her to learn to speak English fluently and that is why the Baron wished her
                to come to me as a house daughter. As to pay, a couple of pounds a month for pocket
                money and her keep was all he had in mind. So with some misgivings I agreed to take
                the niece on as a companion as from 1st August.

                Eleanor.

                Oldeani. 10th August 1938

                Dearest Family,

                Never a dull moment since my young companion arrived. She is a striking looking
                girl with a tall boyish figure and very short and very fine dark hair which she wears
                severely slicked back. She wears tweeds, no make up but has shiny rosy cheeks and
                perfect teeth – she also,inevitably, has a man friend and I have an uncomfortable
                suspicion that it is because of him that she was planted upon me. Upon second
                thoughts though, maybe it was because of her excessive vitality, or even because of
                her healthy appetite! The Baroness, I hear is in poor health and I can imagine that such
                abundant health and spirit must have been quite overpowering. The name is Ingeborg,
                but she is called Mouche, which I believe means Mouse. Someone in her family must
                have a sense of humour.

                Her English only needed practice and she now chatters fluently so that I know her
                background and views on life. Mouche’s father is a personal friend of Goering. He was
                once a big noise in the German Airforce but is now connected with the car industry and
                travels frequently and intensively in Europe and America on business. Mouche showed
                me some snap shots of her family and I must say they look prosperous and charming.
                Mouche tells me that her father wants her to learn to speak English fluently so that
                she can get a job with some British diplomat in Cairo. I had immediate thought that I
                might be nursing a future Mata Hari in my bosom, but this was immediately extinguished
                when Mouche remarked that her father would like her to marry an Englishman. However
                it seems that the mere idea revolts her. “Englishmen are degenerates who swill whisky
                all day.” I pointed out that she had met George, who was a true blue Englishman, but
                was nevertheless a fine physical specimen and certainly didn’t drink all day. Mouche
                replied that George is not an Englishman but a hunter, as though that set him apart.
                Mouche is an ardent Hitler fan and an enthusiastic member of the Hitler Youth
                Movement. The house resounds with Hitler youth songs and when she is not singing,
                her gramophone is playing very stirring marching songs. I cannot understand a word,
                which is perhaps as well. Every day she does the most strenuous exercises watched
                with envy by me as my proportions are now those of a circus Big Top. Mouche eats a
                fantastic amount of meat and I feel it is a blessing that she is much admired by our
                Tyrollean butcher who now delivers our meat in person and adds as a token of his
                admiration some extra sausages for Mouche.

                I must confess I find her stimulating company as George is on safari most of the
                time and my evenings otherwise would be lonely. I am a little worried though about
                leaving Kate here with Mouche when I go to hospital. The dogs and Kate have not taken
                to her. I am trying to prepare Kate for the separation but she says, “She’s not my
                mummy. You are my dear mummy, and I want you, I want you.” George has got
                permission from the Provincial Forestry Officer to spend the last week of August here at
                the Rest House with me and I only hope that the baby will be born during that time.
                Kate adores her dad and will be perfectly happy to remain here with him.

                One final paragraph about Mouche. I thought all German girls were domesticated
                but not Mouche. I have Kesho-Kutwa here with me as cook and I have engaged a local
                boy to do the laundry. I however expected Mouche would take over making the
                puddings and pastry but she informed me that she can only bake a chocolate cake and
                absolutely nothing else. She said brightly however that she would do the mending. As
                there is none for her to do, she has rescued a large worn handkerchief of George’s and
                sits with her feet up listening to stirring gramophone records whilst she mends the
                handkerchief with exquisite darning.

                Eleanor.

                Oldeani. 20th August 1938

                Dearest Family,

                Just after I had posted my last letter I received what George calls a demi official
                letter from the District Officer informing me that I would have to move out of the Rest
                House for a few days as the Governor and his hangers on would be visiting Oldeani
                and would require the Rest House. Fortunately George happened to be here for a few
                hours and he arranged for Kate and Mouche and me to spend a few days at the
                German School as borders. So here I am at the school having a pleasant and restful
                time and much entertained by all the goings on.

                The school buildings were built with funds from Germany and the school is run on
                the lines of a contemporary German school. I think the school gets a grant from the
                Tanganyika Government towards running expenses, but I am not sure. The school hall is
                dominated by a more than life sized oil painting of Adolf Hitler which, at present, is
                flanked on one side by the German Flag and on the other by the Union Jack. I cannot
                help feeling that the latter was put up today for the Governor’s visit today.
                The teachers are very amiable. We all meet at mealtimes, and though few of the
                teachers speak English, the ones who do are anxious to chatter. The headmaster is a
                scholarly man but obviously anti-British. He says he cannot understand why so many
                South Africans are loyal to Britain – or rather to England. “They conquered your country
                didn’t they?” I said that that had never occurred to me and that anyway I was mainly of
                Scots descent and that loyalty to the crown was natural to me. “But the English
                conquered the Scots and yet you are loyal to England. That I cannot understand.” “Well I
                love England,” said I firmly, ”and so do all British South Africans.” Since then we have
                stuck to English literature. Shakespeare, Lord Byron and Galsworthy seem to be the
                favourites and all, thank goodness, make safe topics for conversation.
                Mouche is in her element but Kate and I do not enjoy the food which is typically
                German and consists largely of masses of fat pork and sauerkraut and unfamiliar soups. I
                feel sure that the soup at lunch today had blobs of lemon curd in it! I also find most
                disconcerting the way that everyone looks at me and says, “Bon appetite”, with much
                smiling and nodding so I have to fight down my nausea and make a show of enjoying
                the meals.

                The teacher whose room adjoins mine is a pleasant woman and I take my
                afternoon tea with her. She, like all the teachers, has a large framed photo of Hitler on her
                wall flanked by bracket vases of fresh flowers. One simply can’t get away from the man!
                Even in the dormitories each child has a picture of Hitler above the bed. Hitler accepting
                flowers from a small girl, or patting a small boy on the head. Even the children use the
                greeting ‘Heil Hitler’. These German children seem unnaturally prim when compared with
                my cheerful ex-pupils in South Africa but some of them are certainly very lovely to look
                at.

                Tomorrow Mouche, Kate and I return to our quarters in the Rest House and in a
                few days George will join us for a week.

                Eleanor.

                Oldeani Hospital. 9th September 1938

                Dearest Family,

                You will all be delighted to hear that we have a second son, whom we have
                named John. He is a darling, so quaint and good. He looks just like a little old man with a
                high bald forehead fringed around the edges with a light brown fluff. George and I call
                him Johnny Jo because he has a tiny round mouth and a rather big nose and reminds us
                of A.A.Milne’s ‘Jonathan Jo has a mouth like an O’ , but Kate calls him, ‘My brother John’.
                George was not here when he was born on September 5th, just two minutes
                before midnight. He left on safari on the morning of the 4th and, of course, that very night
                the labour pains started. Fortunately Kate was in bed asleep so Mouche walked with
                me up the hill to the hospital where I was cheerfully received by Sister Marianne who
                had everything ready for the confinement. I was lucky to have such an experienced
                midwife because this was a breech birth and sister had to manage single handed. As
                there was no doctor present I was not allowed even a sniff of anaesthetic. Sister slaved
                away by the light of a pressure lamp endeavouring to turn the baby having first shoved
                an inverted baby bath under my hips to raise them.

                What a performance! Sister Marianne was very much afraid that she might not be
                able to save the baby and great was our relief when at last she managed to haul him out
                by the feet. One slap and the baby began to cry without any further attention so Sister
                wrapped him up in a blanket and took Johnny to her room for the night. I got very little
                sleep but was so thankful to have the ordeal over that I did not mind even though I
                heard a hyaena cackling and calling under my window in a most evil way.
                When Sister brought Johnny to me in the early morning I stared in astonishment.
                Instead of dressing him in one of his soft Viyella nighties, she had dressed him in a short
                sleeved vest of knitted cotton with a cotton cloth swayed around his waist sarong
                fashion. When I protested, “But Sister why is the baby not dressed in his own clothes?”
                She answered firmly, “I find it is not allowed. A baby’s clotheses must be boiled and I
                cannot boil clotheses of wool therefore your baby must wear the clotheses of the Red
                Cross.”

                It was the same with the bedding. Poor Johnny lies all day in a deep wicker
                basket with a detachable calico lining. There is no pillow under his head but a vast kind of
                calico covered pillow is his only covering. There is nothing at all cosy and soft round my
                poor baby. I said crossly to the Sister, “As every thing must be so sterile, I wonder you
                don’t boil me too.” This she ignored.

                When my message reached George he dashed back to visit us. Sister took him
                first to see the baby and George was astonished to see the baby basket covered by a
                sheet. “She has the poor little kid covered up like a bloody parrot,” he told me. So I
                asked him to go at once to buy a square of mosquito netting to replace the sheet.
                Kate is quite a problem. She behaves like an Angel when she is here in my
                room but is rebellious when Sister shoos her out. She says she “Hates the Nanny”
                which is what she calls Mouche. Unfortunately it seems that she woke before midnight
                on the night Johnny Jo was born to find me gone and Mouche in my bed. According to
                Mouche, Kate wept all night and certainly when she visited me in the early morning
                Kate’s face was puffy with crying and she clung to me crying “Oh my dear mummy, why
                did you go away?” over and over again. Sister Marianne was touched and suggested
                that Mouche and Kate should come to the hospital as boarders as I am the only patient
                at present and there is plenty of room. Luckily Kate does not seem at all jealous of the
                baby and it is a great relief to have here here under my eye.

                Eleanor.

                #6254
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  The Gladstone Connection

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

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

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

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

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

                  John Orgill

                  Elizabeth Mary Gladstone 1845-1926

                  Elizabeth Mary Gladstone

                   

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

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

                  Gladstone

                   

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

                  Melbourne, Nov.7, FAMILY TREE

                   

                  According to the Old Dandenong website:

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

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

                  #6252
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    The USA Housley’s

                    This chapter is copied from Barbara Housley’s Narrative on Historic Letters, with thanks to her brother Howard Housley for sharing it with me.  Interesting to note that Housley descendants  (on the Marshall paternal side) and Gretton descendants (on the Warren maternal side) were both living in Trenton, New Jersey at the same time.

                    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. The service was performed by Attorney James Gilkyson.

                    Doylestown

                    In her first letter (February 1854), Anne (George’s sister in Smalley, Derbyshire) 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 (George’s brother) 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 (George’s sister) 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.”

                    According to his obituary, John Eley was born at Wrightstown and “removed” to Lumberville at the age of 19. John was married first to Lucy Wilson with whom he had three sons: George Wilson (1883), Howard (1893) and Raymond (1895); and then to Elizabeth Kilmer with whom he had one son Albert Kilmer (1907). John Eley Housley died November 20, 1926 at the age of 71. For many years he had worked for John R. Johnson who owned a store. According to his son Albert, John was responsible for caring for Johnson’s horses. One named Rex was considered to be quite wild, but was docile in John’s hands. When John would take orders, he would leave the wagon at the first house and walk along the backs of the houses so that he would have access to the kitchens. When he reached the seventh house he would climb back over the fence to the road and whistle for the horses who would come to meet him. John could not attend church on Sunday mornings because he was working with the horses and occasionally Albert could convince his mother that he was needed also. According to Albert, John was regular in attendance at church on Sunday evenings.

                    John was a member of the Carversville Lodge 261 IOOF and the Carversville Lodge Knights of Pythias. Internment was in the Carversville cemetery; not, however, in the plot owned by his father. In addition to his sons, he was survived by his second wife Elizabeth who lived to be 80 and three grandchildren: George’s sons, Kenneth Worman and Morris Wilson and Raymond’s daughter Miriam Louise. George had married Katie Worman about the time John Eley married Elizabeth Kilmer. Howard’s first wife Mary Brink and daughter Florence had died and he remarried Elsa Heed who also lived into her eighties. Raymond’s wife was Fanny Culver.

                    Two more sons followed: Joseph Sackett, who was known as Sackett, September 12, 1856 and Edwin or Edward Rose, November 11, 1858. Joseph Sackett Housley married Anna Hubbs of Plumsteadville on January 17, 1880. They had one son Nelson DeC. who in turn had two daughters, Eleanor Mary and Ruth Anna, and lived on Bert Avenue in Trenton N.J. near St. Francis Hospital. Nelson, who was an engineer and built the first cement road in New Jersey, died at the age of 51. His daughters were both single at the time of his death. However, when his widow, the former Eva M. Edwards, died some years later, her survivors included daughters, Mrs. Herbert D. VanSciver and Mrs. James J. McCarrell and four grandchildren. One of the daughters (the younger) was quite crippled in later years and would come to visit her great-aunt Elizabeth (John’s widow) in a chauffeur driven car. Sackett died in 1929 at the age of 70. He was a member of the Warrington Lodge IOOF of Jamison PA, the Uncas tribe and the Uncas Hayloft 102 ORM of Trenton, New Jersey. The interment was in Greenwood cemetery where he had been caretaker since his retirement from one of the oldest manufacturing plants in Trenton (made milk separators for one thing). Sackett also was the caretaker for two other cemeteries one located near the Clinton Street station and the other called Riverside.

                    Ed’s wife was named Lydia. They had two daughters, Mary and Margaret and a third child who died in infancy. Mary had seven children–one was named for his grandfather–and settled in lower Bucks county. Margaret never married. She worked for Woolworths in Flemington, N. J. and then was made manager in Somerville, N.J., where she lived until her death. Ed survived both of his brothers, and at the time of Sackett’s death was living in Flemington, New Jersey where he had worked as a grocery clerk.

                    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.”

                    Another matter which George took care of during the years the estate was being settled was the purchase of a cemetery plot! On March 24, 1873, George purchased plot 67 section 19 division 2 in the Carversville (Bucks County PA) Cemetery (incorporated 1859). The plot cost $15.00, and was located at the very edge of the cemetery. It was in this cemetery, in 1991, while attending the funeral of Sarah Lord Housley, wife of Albert Kilmer Housley, that sixteen month old Laura Ann visited the graves of her great-great-great grandparents, George and Sarah Ann Hill Housley.

                    George died on August 13, 1877 and was buried three days later. The text for the funeral sermon was Proverbs 27:1: “Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring forth.”

                    #6243
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      William Housley’s Will and the Court Case

                      William Housley died in 1848, but his widow Ellen didn’t die until 1872.  The court case was in 1873.  Details about the court case are archived at the National Archives at Kew,  in London, but are not available online. They can be viewed in person, but that hasn’t been possible thus far.  However, there are a great many references to it in the letters.

                      William Housley’s first wife was Mary Carrington 1787-1813.  They had three children, Mary Anne, Elizabeth and William. When Mary died, William married Mary’s sister Ellen, not in their own parish church at Smalley but in Ashbourne.  Although not uncommon for a widower to marry a deceased wife’s sister, it wasn’t legal.  This point is mentioned in one of the letters.

                      One of the pages of William Housley’s will:

                      William Housleys Will

                       

                      An excerpt from Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

                      A comment in a letter from Joseph (August 6, 1873) indicated that William was married twice and that his wives were sisters: “What do you think that I believe that Mary Ann is trying to make our father’s will of no account as she says that my father’s marriage with our mother was not lawful he marrying two sisters. What do you think of her? I have heard my mother say something about paying a fine at the time of the marriage to make it legal.” Markwell and Saul in The A-Z Guide to Tracing Ancestors in Britain explain that marriage to a deceased wife’s sister was not permissible under Canon law as the relationship was within the prohibited degrees. However, such marriages did take place–usually well away from the couple’s home area. Up to 1835 such marriages were not void but were voidable by legal action. Few such actions were instituted but the risk was always there.

                      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.”

                      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 still living in May 1872. Joseph implied that she and her brother, Will “intend making a bit of bother about the settlement of the bit of property” left by their mother. The 1871 census listed Mary Ann’s occupation as “income from houses.”

                      In July 1872, Joseph introduced Ruth’s husband: “No doubt he is a bad lot. He is one of the Heath’s of Stanley Common a miller and he lives at Smalley Mill” (Ruth Heath was Mary Anne Housley’s daughter)
                      In 1873 Joseph wrote, “He is nothing but a land shark both Heath and his wife and his wife is the worst of the two. You will think these is hard words but they are true dear brother.” The solicitor, Abraham John Flint, was not at all pleased with Heath’s obstruction of the settlement of the estate. He wrote on June 30, 1873: “Heath agreed at first and then because I would not pay his expenses he refused and has since instructed another solicitor for his wife and Mrs. Weston who have been opposing us to the utmost. I am concerned for all parties interested except these two….The judge severely censured Heath for his conduct and wanted to make an order for sale there and then but Heath’s council would not consent….” In June 1875, the solicitor wrote: “Heath bid for the property but it fetched more money than he could give for it. He has been rather quieter lately.”

                      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 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.”

                      Anne intended that one third of the inheritance coming to her from her father and her grandfather, William Carrington, be divided between her four nieces: Sam’s three daughters and John’s daughter Elizabeth.
                      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”

                      However, Samuel was still alive was on the 1871 census in Henley in Arden, and no record of his death can be found. Samuel’s brother in law said he was dead: we do not know why he lied, or perhaps the brothers were lying to keep his share, or another possibility is that Samuel himself told his brother in law to tell them that he was dead. I am inclined to think it was the latter.

                      Excerpts from Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters continued:

                      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.”

                      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.”

                      In the Adelaide Observer 28 Aug 1875

                      HOUSLEY – wanted information
                      as to the Death, Will, or Intestacy, and
                      Children of Charles Housley, formerly of
                      Smalley, Derbyshire, England, who died at
                      Geelong or Creewick Creek Diggings, Victoria
                      August, 1855. His children will hear of something to their advantage by communicating with
                      Mr. A J. Flint, solicitor, Derby, England.
                      June 16,1875.

                      The Diggers & Diggings of Victoria in 1855. Drawn on Stone by S.T. Gill:

                      Victoria Diggings, Australie

                       

                      The court case:

                       Kerry v Housley.
                      Documents: Bill, demurrer.
                      Plaintiffs: Samuel Kerry and Joseph Housley.
                      Defendants: William Housley, Joseph Housley (deleted), Edwin Welch Harvey, Eleanor Harvey (deleted), Ernest Harvey infant, William Stafford, Elizabeth Stafford his wife, Mary Ann Housley, George Purdy and Catherine Purdy his wife, Elizabeth Housley, Mary Ann Weston widow and William Heath and Ruth Heath his wife (deleted).
                      Provincial solicitor employed in Derbyshire.
                      Date: 1873

                      From the Narrative on the Letters:

                      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.”

                      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.”

                      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.”

                      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’s letters were much concerned with the settling of their mother’s estate. In 1854, Anne wrote, “As for my mother coming (to America) I think not at all likely. She is tied here with her property.” A solicitor, Abraham John Flint of 42 Full Street Derby, was engaged by John following the death of their mother. On June 30, 1873 the solicitor wrote: “Dear sir, On the death of your mother I was consulted by your brother John. I acted for him with reference to the sale and division of your father’s property at Smalley. Mr. Kerry was very unwilling to act as trustee being over 73 years of age but owing to the will being a badly drawn one we could not appoint another trustee in his place nor could the property be sold without a decree of chancery. Therefore Mr. Kerry consented and after a great deal of trouble with Heath who has opposed us all throughout whenever matters did not suit him, we found the title deeds and offered the property for sale by public auction on the 15th of July last. Heath could not find his purchase money without mortaging his property the solicitor which the mortgagee employed refused to accept Mr. Kerry’s title and owing to another defect in the will we could not compel them.”

                      In July 1872, Joseph wrote, “I do not know whether you can remember who the trustee was to my father’s will. It was Thomas Watson and Samuel Kerry of Smalley Green. Mr. Watson is dead (died a fortnight before mother) so Mr. Kerry has had to manage the affair.”

                      On Dec. 15, 1972, Joseph wrote, “Now about this property affair. It seems as far off of being settled as ever it was….” and in the following March wrote: “I think we are as far off as ever and farther I think.”

                      Concerning the property which was auctioned on July 15, 1872 and brought 700 pounds, Joseph wrote: “It was sold in five lots for building land and this man Heath bought up four lots–that is the big house, the croft and the cottages. The croft was made into two lots besides the piece belonging to the big house and the cottages and gardens was another lot and the little intake was another. William Richardson bought that.” Elsewhere Richardson’s purchase was described as “the little croft against Smith’s lane.” Smith’s Lane was probably named for their neighbor Daniel Smith, Mrs. Davy’s father.
                      But in December 1872, Joseph wrote that they had not received any money because “Mr. Heath is raising all kinds of objections to the will–something being worded wrong in the will.” In March 1873, Joseph “clarified” matters in this way: “His objection was that one trustee could not convey the property that his signature was not guarantee sufficient as it states in the will that both trustees has to sign the conveyance hence this bother.”
                      Joseph indicated that six shares were to come out of the 700 pounds besides Will’s 20 pounds. Children were to come in for the parents shares if dead. The solicitor wrote in 1873, “This of course refers to the Kidsley property in which you take a one seventh share and which if the property sells well may realize you about 60-80 pounds.” In March 1873 Joseph wrote: “You have an equal share with the rest in both lots of property, but I am afraid there will be but very little for any of us.”

                      The other “lot of property” was “property in Smalley left under another will.” On July 17, 1872, Joseph wrote: “It was left by my grandfather Carrington and Uncle Richard is trustee. He seems very backward in bringing the property to a sale but I saw him and told him that I for one expect him to proceed with it.” George seemed to have difficulty understanding that there were two pieces of property so Joseph explained further: “It was left by my grandfather Carrington not by our father and Uncle Richard is the trustee for it but the will does not give him power to sell without the signatures of the parties concerned.” In June 1873 the solicitor Abraham John Flint asked: “Nothing has been done about the other property at Smalley at present. It wants attention and the other parties have asked me to attend to it. Do you authorize me to see to it for you as well?”
                      After Ellen’s death, the rent was divided between Joseph, Will, Mary Ann and Mr. Heath who bought John’s share and was married to Mary Ann’s daughter, Ruth. Joseph said that Mr. Heath paid 40 pounds for John’s share and that John had drawn 110 pounds in advance. The solicitor said Heath said he paid 60. The solicitor said that Heath was trying to buy the shares of those at home to get control of the property and would have defied the absent ones to get anything.
                      In September 1872 Joseph wrote that the lawyer said the trustee cannot sell the property at the bottom of Smalley without the signatures of all parties concerned in it and it will have to go through chancery court which will be a great expense. He advised Joseph to sell his share and Joseph advised George to do the same.

                      George sent a “portrait” so that it could be established that it was really him–still living and due a share. Joseph wrote (July 1872): “the trustee was quite willing to (acknowledge you) for the portrait I think is a very good one.” Several letters later in response to an inquiry from George, Joseph wrote: “The trustee recognized you in a minute…I have not shown it to Mary Ann for we are not on good terms….Parties that I have shown it to own you again but they say it is a deal like John. It is something like him, but I think is more like myself.”
                      In September 1872 Joseph wrote that the lawyer required all of their ages and they would have to pay “succession duty”. Joseph requested that George send a list of birth dates.

                      On May 23, 1874, the solicitor wrote: “I have been offered 240 pounds for the three cottages and the little house. They sold for 200 pounds at the last sale and then I was offered 700 pounds for the whole lot except Richardson’s Heanor piece for which he is still willing to give 58 pounds. Thus you see that the value of the estate has very materially increased since the last sale so that this delay has been beneficial to your interests than other-wise. Coal has become much dearer and they suppose there is coal under this estate. There are many enquiries about it and I believe it will realize 800 pounds or more which increase will more than cover all expenses.” Eventually the solicitor wrote that the property had been sold for 916 pounds and George would take a one-ninth share.

                      January 14, 1876:  “I am very sorry to hear of your lameness and illness but I trust that you are now better. This matter as I informed you had to stand over until December since when all the costs and expenses have been taxed and passed by the court and I am expecting to receive the order for these this next week, then we have to pay the legacy duty and them divide the residue which I doubt won’t come to very much amongst so many of you. But you will hear from me towards the end of the month or early next month when I shall have to send you the papers to sign for your share. I can’t tell you how much it will be at present as I shall have to deduct your share with the others of the first sale made of the property before it went to court.
                      Wishing you a Happy New Year, I am Dear Sir, Yours truly
                      Abram J. Flint”

                      September 15, 1876 (the last letter)
                      “I duly received your power of attorney which appears to have been properly executed on Thursday last and I sent it on to my London agent, Mr. Henry Lyvell, who happens just now to be away for his annual vacation and will not return for 14 or 20 days and as his signature is required by the Paymaster General before he will pay out your share, it must consequently stand over and await his return home. It shall however receive immediate attention as soon as he returns and I hope to be able to send your checque for the balance very shortly.”

                      1874 in chancery:

                      Housley Estate Sale

                      #6242
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        The Housley Letters

                        We discovered that one of Samuel’s brothers, George Housley 1826-1877,  emigrated to America in 1851, to Solebury, in Pennsylvania. Another brother, Charles 1823-1856, emigrated to Australia at the same time.

                        I wrote to the Solebury Historical Society to ask them if they had any information on the Housleys there. About a month later I had a very helpful and detailed reply from them.

                        There were Housley people in Solebury Township and nearby communities from 1854 to at least 1973, perhaps 1985. George Housley immigrated in 1851, arriving in New York from London in July 1851 on the ship “Senator”. George was in Solebury by 1854, when he is listed on the tax roles for the Township He didn’t own land at that time. Housley family members mostly lived in the Lumberville area, a village in Solebury, or in nearby Buckingham or Wrightstown. The second wife of Howard (aka Harry) Housley was Elsa (aka Elsie) R. Heed, the daughter of the Lumberville Postmaster. Elsie was the proprietor of the Lumberville General Store from 1939 to 1973, and may have continued to live in Lumberville until her death in 1985. The Lumberville General Store was, and still is, a focal point of the community. The store was also the official Post Office at one time, hence the connection between Elsie’s father as Postmaster, and Elsie herself as the proprietor of the store. The Post Office function at Lumberville has been reduced now to a bank of cluster mailboxes, and official U.S. Postal functions are now in Point Pleasant, PA a few miles north of Lumberville.
                        We’ve attached a pdf of the Housley people buried in Carversville Cemetery, which is in the town next to Lumberville, and is still in Solebury Township. We hope this list will confirm that these are your relatives.

                        It doesn’t seem that any Housley people still live in the area. Some of George’s descendents moved to Wilkes-Barre, PA and Flemington, NJ. One descendent, Barbara Housley, lived in nearby Doylestown, PA, which is the county seat for Bucks County. She actually visited Solebury Township Historical Society looking for Housley relatives, and it would have been nice to connect you with her. Unfortunately she died in 2018. Her obituary is attached in case you want to follow up with the nieces and great nieces who are listed.

                        Lumberville General Store, Pennsylvania, Elsie Housley:

                        Lumberville

                         

                        I noticed the name of Barbara’s brother Howard Housley in her obituary, and found him on facebook.  I knew it was the right Howard Housley as I recognized Barbara’s photograph in his friends list as the same photo in the obituary.  Howard didn’t reply initially to a friend request from a stranger, so I found his daughter Laura on facebook and sent her a message.  She replied, spoke to her father, and we exchanged email addresses and were able to start a correspondence.  I simply could not believe my luck when Howard sent me a 17 page file of Barbara’s Narrative on the Letters with numerous letter excerpts interspersed with her own research compiled on a six month trip to England.

                        The letters were written to George between 1851 and the 1870s, from the Housley family in Smalley.

                        Narrative of Historic Letters ~ Barbara Housley.
                        AND BELIEVE ME EVER MY DEAR BROTHER, YOUR AFFECTIONATE FAMILY
                        In February 1991, I took a picture of my 16 month old niece Laura Ann Housley standing near the tombstones of her great-great-great-grandparents, George and Sarah Ann Hill Housley. The occassion was the funeral of another Sarah Housley, Sarah Lord Housley, wife of Albert Kilmer Housley, youngest son of John Eley Housley (George and Sarah Ann’s first born). Laura Ann’s great-grandfather (my grandfather) was another George, John Eley’s first born. It was Aunt Sarah who brought my mother, Lois, a packet of papers which she had found in the attic. Mom spent hours transcribing the letters which had been written first horizontally and then vertically to save paper. What began to emerge was a priceless glimpse into the lives and concerns of Housleys who lived and died over a century ago. All of the letters ended with the phrase “And believe me ever my dear brother, your affectionate….”
                        The greeting and opening remarks of each of the letters are included in a list below. The sentence structure and speech patterns have not been altered however spelling and some punctuation has been corrected. Some typical idiosyncrasies were: as for has, were for where and vice versa, no capitals at the beginnings of sentences, occasional commas and dashes but almost no periods. Emma appears to be the best educated of the three Housley letter-writers. Sister-in-law Harriet does not appear to be as well educated as any of the others. Since their mother did not write but apparently was in good health, it must be assumed that she could not.
                        The people discussed and described in the following pages are for the most part known to be the family and friends of the Housleys of Smalley, Derbyshire, England. However, practically every page brings conjectures about the significance of persons who are mentioned in the letters and information about persons whose names seem to be significant but who have not yet been established as actual members of the family.

                        To say this was a priceless addition to the family research is an understatement. I have since, with Howard’s permission, sent the file to the Derby Records Office for their family history section.  We are hoping that Howard will find the actual letters in among the boxes he has of his sisters belongings.  Some of the letters mention photographs that were sent. Perhaps some will be found.

                        #6235
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Sydney Smith and Lawrence of Arabia

                          Hannah Warren 1865-1946 was my great grandfather Samuel’s sister. Hannah married Charles Smith, and their son was Sydney Smith 1888-1971, Lawrence of Arabia’s commanding officer. Sydney’s wife, Clare Sydney Smith, wrote a book about their friendship with Lawrence of Arabia called The Golden Reign.

                          This photograph of Sydney Smith and Clare is in our collection of family photos. Written on the back: Sydney Smith son of Hannah Smith sister of Samuel Warren married Clare Eustace Jameson, niece of Earl Haig.

                          Sydney Smith and Clare

                          The Burton Observer and Chronicle – Thursday 19 September 1940:

                          BURTONIANS’ FRIENDSHIP WITH EX-ARAB LEADER. By Clare Sydney Smith (Cassell, 12s. 6d.).  general interest as an intimate study of the most romantic personality on the Allied side… this volume has distinctly local appeal, for the authoress, who is a niece of the late Earl Haig, is the wife of Mr Commodore Sydney Smith, eldest son of Mr. Charles Smith (former joint managing director of Allsopp’s). Her volume, on the whole, is a fascinating record of the devoted friendship which existed between Colonel Lawrence of Arabia, her husband and herself during the latter years of the one-time Arab leader’s life. Their acquaintance with  Lawrence, alias Aircraftman T. E. Shaw, commenced with the Cairo Conference in 1920.

                          The Golden Reign

                           

                          A photograph from the book: From left to right: Lord Astor, Wing-Commander Sydney Smith, Lady Astor, George Bernard Shaw, Charlotte Shaw (hiding behind GBS’s shoulder), Sydney’s daughter Maureen Sydney Smith, an unknown man, Clare Sydney Smith, and on the ladder, T.E.’s feet.

                          Sydney Smith and Lord Astor

                           

                          Also from Clare’s book:

                          Clare Sydney Smith and TE Lawrence

                           

                          Sydney Smith with Lawrence of Arabia:

                          Sydney Smith Lawrence of Arabia

                          #6088

                          In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

                          No sooner had they reached for the drinks in the office cupboard, than the phone rang loudly.

                          Rosamund!” howled Star. “Where is that daft niece of yours, and what good is she if she doesn’t even answer the calls! Rosamund!”

                          “I thought you gave her the afternoon?” Tara mouthed while picking the annoying phone. “Cartwright and Wrexham Private Investigators, can I help you?”

                          Her face frowned. “Herself speaking.”

                          “Yes, we do private investigations. Very successfully I may say. Alright Ma’am, let me check my agenda.” She looked in the air, flipping an imaginary agenda. “Oh, you’re in luck, our 5pm just cancelled. Alright then, see you at our office. Au revoir.”

                          Tara hung up with a smile.

                          Star was busy slurping the mojito while struggling with the mint bits in her teeth. “What? Tell me this instant!”

                          “Our second case! Isn’t it exciting!”

                          “Sure thing, what it is this time? Evil possession?”

                          “Actually, it’s not that far off. Apparently, our ladyship needs a falgrante delicto of adultery. Her husband seems to be a cheating one, and with a twinge of double personality… Or at least that’s what she said.”

                          “Fantastic. Can’t wait for all the juicy details. I’ll go prepare my sequin red dress to set the honey trap darling.”

                          “Good lord, get a hold of yourself Star, it’s only been a day, and you’re ready to jump on the next passing horse as it were.”

                          “Who said you shouldn’t mix pleasure with business.”

                          “Right. Thought that was the reverse…”

                          “Tsk. Just to get the last word.”

                          “Indeed.”

                          #5836

                          It was funny watching the toilet paper surge sweep through one place after another, I could follow that much on this contraption my helpers had me wired up to, this social media thing. I suppose I notice different things since I stopped trying to make sense of anything. Things start to catch my eye, but not the usual things.

                          There’s one thing I’ve learned and that’s if you don’t give a toss about how demented you are, there is a lot on the plus side to consider with dementia.

                          Not sure why but I keep seeing all this rambling, from that gal they call my niece,  on this device as they call it (sounds a bit medieval to me), and she’s doing this lockdown diary thing.  Sometimes I feel like saying, do you realize how many of us have been on lockdown already for ages, for month, and for years, relying on pea brained opinionated ever changing drifters to see to our needs. But f course I don’t say that, because I don’t know how to work this blasted device properly.  If I did, I’d let them have it!

                          I find myself momentarily cheered, energized by this thought. And then I feel deflated, and can’t remember what it was about.

                          Macaroni tonight. The evening woman doesn’t seem to stay long anymore.

                          #5822

                          The evening helper said she was very sorry to tell me that my niece wouldn’t be able to make it this week, as she’d been on holiday and got quarantined.  You needn’t be sorry about that, I told her, I don’t know who she is anyway.  Not that I’m ungrateful, it’s very kind of her to come and visit me.  She tells me all about people I’ve never heard of, and I pretend to take an interest. I’m polite you see, brought up that way.

                          Then she said, you’ll have to go easy on the toilet paper, it’s all sold out. Panic buying, she said.

                          That’s what happens when people start shitting themselves with fear, I said, and she tutted at me as if I was a seven year old, the cheeky young whippersnapper.  And how shall I go easy on it, shall I crap outside behind the flat topped bushes under my window? Wipe my arse on a leaf?

                          Don’t be daft, you’d fall over, she replied crisply. She had a point.  My hip’s still playing me up, so my plans to escape are on hold. Not much point in it with all this quarantine nonsense going on anyway.   I might get rounded up and put in a tent by a faceless moron in a hazmat suit.  I must say the plague doctors outfits were much more stylish.  And there was no panic buying of loo rolls in those days either.

                          I don’t know what the world’s coming to. A handful of people with a cough and everyone loses their minds.  Then again, when the plague came, everyone lost their minds too. Not over toilet paper though.  We didn’t start losing our minds until the carts started rolling past every night full of the bodies.  No paper masks in those days either, we wound scarves around our faces because of the stench.

                          The worst thing was being locked in the house when the kitchen maid came down with it.  All of us, all of the nine children, my wife and her mother, the cook and the maids, all of us untouched, all but that one kitchen maid.  If only they’d taken her away, the rest of us might not have perished.  Not having enough food did us in, we were weakened with starvation. Shut in the house for weeks, with no escape.  Nothing to do but feast on the fears, like a smothering cloud. Like as not, we just gave up, and said, plague, carry me off, I can bear no more. I know after the youngest 6 children and the oldest boy died, I had no will to live.  I died before the wife did and felt a bit guilty about that, leaving her to face the rest of it alone.  She wasn’t happy about that, and who can blame her.

                          One thing for sure, it wasn’t running out of blasted toilet paper that was worrying me.

                          #5644

                          In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

                          “You are so bloody childish, Tara” said Star. She slammed her cup of coffee on the desk so that it slopped over the sides.  “Damn,” she said, wiping it up with her sleeve.

                          “It was my idea and you’ve just taken over. The way you always do.”

                          “Your idea? What are you? Three years old?”

                          With dignity, Tara rose. She closed her laptop, straightened it on the desk so it ran parallel to the sides, and, using a cloth made for that very purpose, dusted it. “I’m going out for some fresh air. ”

                          “Well you won’t find it round here. It’s worse than China they said on the news today. Oh, OKAY, Tara. DON’T GO. The business was your idea and I promise I won’t treat you like a secretary. Happy?”

                          Tara smiled sweetly. “That’s all I need to hear.” She rubbed her hands together. “Right, time to find Uncle Basil. Last night I had a dream…”

                          “Ooooh, do tell, Was Mr Sexy voice in it?”

                          “No, but Uncle Basil was. And he said, cold snap and falling reptiles.”

                          Star furrowed her brow. “Okay, well … we shouldn’t discount anything at this stage.”

                          “It’s bound to be a clue. Speaking of secretaries … I have a niece, Rosamund. She a bit rough around the edges but I’m sure she could answer phones and make our coffee.”

                          “Great idea, Tara! As usual. Get her to come in and do a trial.”

                          #4862

                          “Init been quiet as being caught in the doldruffs, my Mavis?” Sha was sandwiched in the cryogenic apparatus like a tartine in a toaster, with her ample person protruding like cheese squeezed in too much.

                          The door flung open.

                          “Good Lord, aren’t them splendigious, those little tarts, meringue and all.”

                          Berenice, Barb’s niece, trotting in his steps, taking her role as the new temp assistant very seriously was about to voice a response that he quickly tutted away. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

                          “Took me a while to find out the thread though, buried through all that poubelle creative thinking and monologues, and bla and bla. Action all gone missing safe for a little excitement in Tik…” He stopped, looking around suspiciously. “They’re here, I know. Stop it, now. Hey. Shut up!”

                          He turned to Berenice. “I wasn’t talking to you. Who are you by the way? Has Liz or Lucinda written you in?”

                          Sha, and Glo, and Mavis, all squeezed in the cryotanks were not wasting a drop of the show.

                          “He’s been acting all strange, since he cracked that red crystal.”
                          “Shht, Glo. You don’t want him to get mad and stop all our beauty treatment. I can feel my skin tighten and dewrinkle.”
                          “T’is like ironing, fussure. Some steam and a good hot iron to remove the wrinkles.”
                          “Ahahah, wrinkles yourself, they’re more like crevices, hihihi!”
                          “But first, nuffin like a ice treatment to tighten the glutes.”
                          “Oh uhuh, haha, she said glutes like a snotty beauty specialist. Next she’ll say we need to do Pontius Pilates…”

                          Berenice couldn’t help herself. She blurted out in one quick sentence “But what are you planning to do with them, Doctor?”

                          He paused a moment his conversation with the invisible guests then turned nonchalently at B.

                          “But just… perfecting them, sweet thing. Oh, and love what you did with the beehive.”

                          #4792

                          The Doctor was at times confused about his own plan. Well, most of the time if felt clear and perfectly diabolical, and he could easily understand why at times lesser minds could get confused about the twists and turns —and to those lesser minds, it would usually suffice to say “don’t worry, it’s all part of the Plan.” It was difficult to properly phrase the sentence so that the Plan doesn’t get too easily confused with any plan. But he was expert in conveying that it wasn’t a mere plan.

                          After having tried and used old or elaborate devices beyond known technology like alleged alien crystal skulls to outcomes of various satisfaction in the past, he’d realized that those so called AI technologies were a silent gangrene for the mind. By becoming more tech-savvy, people lost their savoir and their savour by relying too much on external support. People were becoming malleable, predictable, and replaceable.

                          His bloody assistant was a sad testament to the downward evolution humanity was rushing towards. It was a strange and sad irony, that by enhancing their ineptitude, he was actually working to the perfection of the human race.

                          “Ah yes! Evolution!” That was his legacy, and he was of course profoundly misunderstood.

                          This whole sad business with the chase after the dolls and the keys and the remote control of magpies, and the psychic blasts, beauty treatments and Barbara enhancements, all that made sense once you showed it in the proper light. These were the catalyst to the real and interesting events. The ones which mattered.

                          It all started after the Army got him out of his prison rot in exchange for his work on some special science experiments. Top-secret, evidently. His handler, a certain nobody by the name of Fergus, was assigning him the experiments.
                          While he was dutifully working on his assigned projects, he quickly realized that he was given vast funding which would have taken him more time to gather on his own, so he did his part, all while experimenting and honing his skills. Clearly, the Army lacked any vision beyond the confines of “find a better way to torture, maim or kill mass amount of individuals.” Primates. Luckily, their experiments with remote control, brainwashing, and body modelage were less gory than the average science experiments, and far more into his own area of expertise.

                          It took him 5 years to escape. This plan (a smaller plan, part of the Plan which had not yet fully hatched at the time) — this plan for an escape started to form when Fergus let slip important bits of information, which seemed insignificant taken in isolation, but meant a whole new area of discoveries when put together by a brilliant mind like his own.
                          Fergus started to gloat about securing some secrets as a blackmail or fail-safe policy in case the Army’s “hired help” misbehaved. This part was known for a long time, it was what was called our ‘retirement plan’ in the contract we signed. What was more peculiar was when he started to let details slip about the method. All thanks to little doses of hypnotic potion in spiked shared drinks, courtesy of the Doctor. It seemed clear that this elaborate scheming of keys and dolls was child’s play and nothing particularly genius, however what was more interesting was when Fergus started to realize that the dolls his niece had made somehow matched certain persons of interest without her conscious knowing. There was a deeper mystery to be cracked, and even Fergus wondered if the Army had not tempered with his family genetics to induce certain characteristics or something of the like. Well, all ramblings of a simpleton you would say, but maybe it wasn’t.
                          After all these searches to externalize certain abilities of the mind, the Doctor was starting to get fascinated by people exhibiting these qualities naturally.

                          The appearance of this strange red crystal seems to confirm these doubts. There are untapped forces at play, and maybe doors that could be opened.

                          Barbara suddenly irrupted into the room “Our guests are coming, just received a text!”

                          The Doctor sighed thinking some doors should remain closed.

                          #4578
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            “What’s the matter with you?” asked Finnley, noticing Liz looking uncharacteristically quiet and pensive. Was that a tear in her eye glistening as the morning sun slanted in the French window?

                            “I’ve just had a letter from one of my characters,” replied Liz. “Here, look.”

                            Finnley put her duster on Liz’s desk and sat in the armchair to read it.

                            Dear Liz, it said.

                            Henry appeared on the same day my young niece arrived from Sweden with her grandma. My mother had already arrived, and we’d just returned from picking them up from the airport. A black puppy was waiting outside my gate.

                            “We can’t leave him out here,” I said, my hands full of bags. “Grab him, Mom.”

                            She picked him up and carried him inside and put him down on the driveway. We went up to the house and introduced all the other dogs to the newcomers, and then we heard howling and barking. I’d forgotten to introduce the other dogs to the new puppy, so quickly went down and pulled the terrified black puppy out from under the car and picked him up. I kept him in my arms for a while and attended to the guests.

                            From then on he followed me everywhere. In later years when he was arthritic, he’d sigh as if to say, where is she going now, and stagger to his feet. Later still, he was very slow at following me, and I’d often bump into and nearly fall over him on the return. Or he’d lie down in the doorway so when I tripped over him, he’d know I was going somewhere. When we went for walks, before he got too old to walk much, he never needed a lead, because he was always right by my side.

                            When he was young he’d have savage fights with a plastic plant pot, growling at it and tossing it around. We had a game of “where’s Henry” every morning when I made the bed, and he hid under the bedclothes.

                            He was a greedy fat boy most of his life and adored food. He was never the biggest dog, but had an authority over any plates of leftovers on the floor by sheer greedy determination. Even when he was old and had trouble getting up, he was like a rocket if any food was dropped on the floor. Even when he had hardly any teeth left he’d shovel it up somehow, growling at the others to keep them away. The only dog he’d share with was Bill, who is a bit of a growly steam roller with food as well, despite being small.

                            I always wondered which dog it was that was pissing inside the house, and for years I never knew. What I would have given to know which one was doing it! I finally found out it was Henry when it was too late to do anything about it ~ by then he had bladder problems.

                            I started leaving him outside on the patio when we went out. One morning towards the end, in the dark, we didn’t notice him slip out of the patio gate as we were leaving. In the light from the street light outside, we saw him marching off down the road! Where was he going?! It was as if he’d packed his bags and said, That’s it, I’m off!

                            Eventually he died at home, sixteen years old, after staggering around on his last legs for quite some time. Stoic and stalwart were words used to describe him. He was a character.

                            A couple of hours before he died, I noticed something on the floor beside his head. It was a gold earring I’d never seen before, with a honeycomb design. Just after he died, Ben went and sat right next to him. We buried him under the oak tree at the bottom of the garden, and gave him a big Buddha head stone. Charlie goes down there every day now. Maybe he wonders if he will be next. He pisses on the Buddha head. Maybe he’s paying his respects, but maybe he’s just doing what dogs do.

                            #3808

                            The house was strangely peaceful.

                            The hot days were over for now, and the air wasn’t as suffocating.

                            Dido was gone for a visit to New South Wales, talking the girls with her.
                            As Mater said, breathing a bit of ocean in her pipes instead of her infernal smoking would do her quite a bit of good. Actually, to her surprise, she’d refrained herself from saying what she originally meant. Her brains needed washing too, but that would have been mean.
                            Mater, old cow, you’re getting soft with age”Prune could hear her mutter. The young girl was clever at reading her silences and mutterings. For all the good it would do her.
                            So, yeah, a bit of coastal loitering, instead of vagabonding with all the in and out guests that summer had brought. Dido would endlessly run head-first in so many troubles by following people’s every whim. But hopefully she would be a bit more responsible having to care for her nieces.

                            It must have been those books she read, or the Internet gobbledygook. Mater had found a second-hand worn-out book Dido had forgotten to flush on her way out of the loo. Or the reverse.
                            Anyway, she’d given it a peek. Out of concern of course.
                            No wonder Dido was so taken with silly concerns. It was a book by a French Tibetan Buddhist monk, advocating compassion for this, compassion for that. Good for nothing, all the same those preachers. Now, she could understand why Dido was all ranting about how meditation change your brain. Well, no surprise! Makes it all mushy and unable to think critically, more like it.

                            Just before she left for her little vacation, she’d almost had a nervous breakdown about what she called the extermination. Happened the noise on the roof were stray cats. Well, I knew she fed them from time to time. Probably Finly too. Now, neither Finly nor myself would have called the exterminator to kill some poor cats, good gracious. The guinea pigs are out of their reach anyway. But I guess one of the neighbours wasn’t the compassionate type. Now, what about having compassion for those bastard cat killers? Silly monks who know nothing.

                            Anyway,… darn phone! Somebody to answer that phone?

                            When she arrived at the ringing phone, she realised it was again one of those stupid marketers to sell whatever useless crap. She put the handset delicately on the ledge, letting the guy talk to the air, and resumed her calm walk around the quiet house.

                            So, where was I, she thought. The thought has nearly slipped away.

                            It was something about fish oil maybe. Oh there… walking meditation, mushy brains, cat killers… There, she lost it again…

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