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  • #6487
    DevanDevan
    Participant

      I’ve always felt like the odd one out in my family. Growing up at the Flying Fish Inn, I’ve always felt like I was on the outside looking in. My mother left when I was young, and my father disappeared not long after. I’ve always felt like I was the only one who didn’t fit in with the craziness of my family.

      I’ve always tried to keep my distance with the others. I didn’t want to get too involved, take sides about petty things, like growing weed in the backyard, making psychedelic termite honey, or trying to influence the twins to buy proper clothes. But truth is, you can’t get too far away. Town’s too small. Family always get back to you, and manage to get you involved in their shit, one way or another, even if you don’t say anything. That’s how it works. They don’t need my participation to use me as an argument.

      So I stopped paying attention, almost stopped caring. I lived my life working at the gas station, and drinking beers with my buddies Joe and Jasper, living in a semi-comatose state. I learned that word today when I came bringing little honey buns to mater. I know she secretly likes them, even if she pretend she doesn’t in front of Idle. But I can see the breadcrumbs on her cardigan when I come say hi at the end of the day. This morning, Idle was rocking in her favourite chair on the porch, looking at the clouds behind her mirrored sunglasses. Prune was talking to her, I saw she was angry because of the contraction of the muscles of her jaw and her eyes were darker than usual. She was saying to Idle that she was always in a semi-comatose state and doing nothing useful for the Inn when we had a bunch of tourists arriving. And something about the twins redecorating the rooms without proper design knowledge. Idle did what she usually does. She ignored the comment and kept on looking at the clouds. I’m not even sure she heard or understood that word that Prune said. Semi-comatose. It sounds like glucose. That’s how I’m spending my life between the Inn, the gas station and my buddies.

      But things changed today when I got back to my apartment for lunch. You can call it a hunch or a coincidence. But as we talked with Joe about that time when my dad left, making me think we were doing hide and seek, and he left me a note saying he would be back someday. I don’t know why I felt the need to go search that note afterwards. So I went back to the apartment and opened the mailbox. Among the bills and ads, I found a postcard with a few words written on the image and nothing except my address on the back. I knew it was from my dad.

      It was not signed or anything, but still I was sure it was his handwriting. I would recognise it anywhere. I went and took the shoebox I keep hidden on top of the kitchen closet, because I saw people do that in movies. That’s not very original, I know, but I’m not too bright either. I opened the box and took the note my dad left me when he disappeared.

      I put the card on the desk near the note. The handwritings matched. I felt so excited, and confused.

      A few words at the bottom of the card said : “Memories from the coldest place on Earth…”

      Why would dad go to such a place to send me a postcard after all those years ? Just to say that.

      That’s when I recalled what Prune had told me once as we were watching a detective movie : “Read everything with care and always double check your information.”

      On the back, it said that the image was from a scientific station in Antartica, but the stamp indicated it had been posted from a floating post office in the North Pole. I turned the card and looked at the text again. Above the station, a few words were written that sounded like a riddle.

      > A mine, a tile, dust piled high,
      Together they rest, yet always outside.
      One misstep, and you’ll surely fall,
      Into the depths, where danger lies all.

      It sure sounds like a warning. But I’m not too good with riddles. No need to worry Mater about that, in case of false hope and all that. Idle ? Don’t even think about it. She won’t believe me when I say it’s from dad. She never does believe me. And she’ll keep playing with the words trying to find her answer in the shape of smoke. The twins, they are a riddle on their own.

      No. It’s Prune’s help I need.

      #6379

      In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys

      EricEric
      Keymaster

        Asking to give each of the 4 characters some particular traits that makes them uniquely distinctive and recognizable

        The four friends, Zara, Xavier, Yasmin, and Youssef, each have their own unique traits that make them stand out and recognizable.

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

        Xavier is the joker of the group, always cracking jokes and making puns. He is a free-spirited person who is always up for an adventure, he has a great sense of humor and is not afraid to be himself. He is also an artist and often carries a sketchbook and pencils with him, he likes to draw whatever he sees in his journeys.

        Yasmin is the brains of the group, she is intelligent and logical. She is always able to think on her feet and come up with a plan when things get tough. She is also a bit of a perfectionist and likes to have everything organized. She is a history buff and always carries a notebook with her to document her findings.

        Youssef is the muscle of the group, He is physically strong, and always ready to help out in a fight. He is also a bit of a foodie and loves trying new dishes. He is always the first one to volunteer to carry the heavy bags and equipment. He is also a bit of a daredevil and loves trying out new sports and activities.

        Give each of them a color, and an animal, and a secret name in a funny language

        The four friends, Zara, Xavier, Yasmin, and Youssef, each have their own unique traits that make them stand out and recognizable.

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

        Xavier is the joker of the group, his color is orange, his animal is a monkey, and his secret name in a funny language is “Xavimunk”

        Yasmin is the brains of the group, her color is blue, her animal is an owl, and her secret name in a funny language is “Yasminowl”

        Youssef is the muscle of the group, his color is green, his animal is a bear, and his secret name in a funny language is “Youssefbear”

        Now, we need physical descriptions for each of them. Also, their ages, height, clothes, facial features, ethnicity (for instance Youssef may be half Yemeni and half Norwegian), etc. with a good mix of generic and eccentric. We also need surnames congruent with their described ethnicity, not too bland, but not too daft either. For instance Youssef Olafsson, Zara Patara-Smythe, etc. Also explain how they become friends.

        Zara Patara-Smythe is a 25-year-old woman of mixed heritage, her mother is Indian and her father is British. She has long, dark hair that she keeps in a sleek ponytail, dark brown eyes and a sharp jawline. She stands at 5’6″ and has a toned and athletic build. She usually wears practical clothing that allows her to move around easily, such as cargo pants and a tank top.

        Xavier Olafsson is a 27-year-old man of Norwegian and Danish descent. He has blonde hair that he keeps in a messy style, blue eyes, and a charming smile. He stands at 6’1″ and has a lean build. He is always seen wearing a colorful and bold clothing, such as a Hawaiian shirt and shorts.

        Yasmin Ahmed is a 23-year-old woman of Egyptian descent. She has long, black hair that she keeps in a tight braid, dark brown eyes and a round face. She stands at 5’4″ and has a petite build. She usually wears conservative clothing, such as long skirts and blouses.

        Youssef Ali is a 26-year-old man of half Yemeni, half Norwegian descent. He has short, curly black hair, dark brown eyes and a square jawline. He stands at 6’2″ and has a muscular build. He usually wears comfortable clothing such as a t-shirt and jeans, and always has a backpack on his shoulder.

        The four of them became friends in college, they were all studying different majors, but they all shared a love for adventure and exploration. They found themselves in the same class project, and from there they formed a strong bond. After college, they decided to keep exploring the world together, and went on many trips and adventures, always seeking for something new and exciting.

        1/ Change the ages of Zara, Xavier, Yasmin and Youssef to more random patterns – rewrite if needed how they met each other to reflect eventual age gaps. Give them some flaws, mental or physical challenges.
        2/ increase again the age gaps while keeping the youngest one a young adult, and remove “minor” from the flaws descriptions

        Zara is a 22-year-old woman who is the youngest of the group. She is a free-spirited, adventurous person, but also a bit reckless and impulsive. She has a scar on her cheek that she got from a Skateboarding accident when she was a teenager.

        Xavier is a 45-year-old man who is the oldest of the group. He is a responsible and level-headed person, but also a bit of a perfectionist and can be hard on himself and others. He has dyslexia which he has been able to work around and it doesn’t impede his daily life.

        Yasmin is a 38-year-old woman who is the second oldest of the group. She is a kind and compassionate person, but also a bit of a pushover and can have trouble standing up for herself. She has social anxiety that affect her in certain situations and she have been working on coping mechanisms.

        Youssef is a 33-year-old man who is the second youngest of the group. He is a charismatic and outgoing person, but also a bit of a flirt and can be a bit insensitive to others feelings. He has ADHD which he has been able to manage with medication, but it still affects him from time to time.

        The group met each other through different means, Xavier and Yasmin met at work, Zara and Youssef met at a college class, and eventually, they all became friends through common interests and activities. They decided to go on this adventure together because they were all looking for a change in their lives and wanted to explore the unknown.

        #6303
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          The Hollands of Barton under Needwood

           

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          William Richard Holland

           

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

          Holland House

           

          Excerpt from the book:

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

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

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

          Further excerpts from the book:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          Wales End Farm

           

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

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

          Unice Holland

           

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

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

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

          A list of Holland ancestors:

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

          #6272
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            The Housley Letters

            The Carringtons

            Carrington Farm, Smalley:

            Carrington Farm

             

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

             

            From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

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

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

            RICHARD

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

             

            THOMAS

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

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

             

            JOHN

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

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

            FRANK (see above)

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

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

            William and Mary Carrington:

            William Carrington

            #6271
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              The Housley Letters

              FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS

              from Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

               

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

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

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

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

              Lyon 1861 census

               

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

               

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

              In The Derbyshire Advertiser and Journal, 15 May 1863:

              Davy Death

               

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

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

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

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

              Kiddsley Park Farm

               

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

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

              #6269
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                The Housley Letters 

                From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters.

                 

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

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

                William and Ellen Marriage

                 

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

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

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

                 

                ELLEN HOUSLEY 1795-1872

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

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

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

                 

                Mary’s children:

                MARY ANN HOUSLEY  1808-1878

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

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

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

                 

                WILLIAM HOUSLEY JR. 1812-1890

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

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

                 

                Ellen’s children:

                JOHN HOUSLEY  1815-1893

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

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

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

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

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

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

                John Housley

                 

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

                 

                SAMUEL HOUSLEY 1816-

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

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

                Housley Deaths

                 

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

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

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

                 

                EDWARD HOUSLEY 1819-1843

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

                 

                ANNE HOUSLEY 1821-1856

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

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

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

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

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

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

                The Carrington Farm:

                Carringtons Farm

                 

                CHARLES HOUSLEY 1823-1855

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

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

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

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

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

                 

                GEORGE HOUSLEY 1824-1877

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                 

                ROBERT HOUSLEY 1832-1851

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

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

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

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

                 

                EMMA HOUSLEY 1836-1871

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

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

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

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

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

                Emma Housley and Edwin Welch Harvey wedding, 1858:

                Emma Housley wedding

                 

                JOSEPH HOUSLEY 1838-1893

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                Joseph Housley and the Kiddsley cottages:

                Joseph Housley

                #6263
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  From Tanganyika with Love

                  continued  ~ part 4

                  With thanks to Mike Rushby.

                  Mchewe Estate. 31st January 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  Life is very quiet just now. Our neighbours have left and I miss them all especially
                  Joni who was always a great bearer of news. We also grew fond of his Swedish
                  brother-in-law Max, whose loud ‘Hodi’ always brought a glad ‘Karibu’ from us. His wife,
                  Marion, I saw less often. She is not strong and seldom went visiting but has always
                  been friendly and kind and ready to share her books with me.

                  Ann’s birthday is looming ahead and I am getting dreadfully anxious that her
                  parcels do not arrive in time. I am delighted that you were able to get a good head for
                  her doll, dad, but horrified to hear that it was so expensive. You would love your
                  ‘Charming Ann’. She is a most responsible little soul and seems to have outgrown her
                  mischievous ways. A pity in a way, I don’t want her to grow too serious. You should see
                  how thoroughly Ann baths and towels herself. She is anxious to do Georgie and Kate
                  as well.

                  I did not mean to teach Ann to write until after her fifth birthday but she has taught
                  herself by copying the large print in newspaper headlines. She would draw a letter and
                  ask me the name and now I find that at four Ann knows the whole alphabet. The front
                  cement steps is her favourite writing spot. She uses bits of white clay we use here for
                  whitewashing.

                  Coffee prices are still very low and a lot of planters here and at Mbosi are in a
                  mess as they can no longer raise mortgages on their farms or get advances from the
                  Bank against their crops. We hear many are leaving their farms to try their luck on the
                  Diggings.

                  George is getting fed up too. The snails are back on the shamba and doing
                  frightful damage. Talk of the plagues of Egypt! Once more they are being collected in
                  piles and bashed into pulp. The stench on the shamba is frightful! The greybeards in the
                  village tell George that the local Chief has put a curse on the farm because he is angry
                  that the Government granted George a small extension to the farm two years ago! As
                  the Chief was consulted at the time and was agreeable this talk of a curse is nonsense
                  but goes to show how the uneducated African put all disasters down to witchcraft.

                  With much love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 9th February 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  Ann’s birthday yesterday was not quite the gay occasion we had hoped. The
                  seventh was mail day so we sent a runner for the mail, hoping against hope that your
                  parcel containing the dolls head had arrived. The runner left for Mbeya at dawn but, as it
                  was a very wet day, he did not return with the mail bag until after dark by which time Ann
                  was fast asleep. My heart sank when I saw the parcel which contained the dolls new
                  head. It was squashed quite flat. I shed a few tears over that shattered head, broken
                  quite beyond repair, and George felt as bad about it as I did. The other parcel arrived in
                  good shape and Ann loves her little sewing set, especially the thimble, and the nursery
                  rhymes are a great success.

                  Ann woke early yesterday and began to open her parcels. She said “But
                  Mummy, didn’t Barbara’s new head come?” So I had to show her the fragments.
                  Instead of shedding the flood of tears I expected, Ann just lifted the glass eyes in her
                  hand and said in a tight little voice “Oh poor Barbara.” George saved the situation. as
                  usual, by saying in a normal voice,”Come on Ann, get up and lets play your new
                  records.” So we had music and sweets before breakfast. Later I removed Barbara’s
                  faded old blond wig and gummed on the glossy new brown one and Ann seems quite
                  satisfied.

                  Last night, after the children were tucked up in bed, we discussed our financial
                  situation. The coffee trees that have survived the plagues of borer beetle, mealie bugs
                  and snails look strong and fine, but George says it will be years before we make a living
                  out of the farm. He says he will simply have to make some money and he is leaving for
                  the Lupa on Saturday to have a look around on the Diggings. If he does decide to peg
                  a claim and work it he will put up a wattle and daub hut and the children and I will join him
                  there. But until such time as he strikes gold I shall have to remain here on the farm and
                  ‘Keep the Home Fires Burning’.

                  Now don’t go and waste pity on me. Women all over the country are having to
                  stay at home whilst their husbands search for a livelihood. I am better off than most
                  because I have a comfortable little home and loyal servants and we still have enough
                  capitol to keep the wolf from the door. Anyway this is the rainy season and hardly the
                  best time to drag three small children around the sodden countryside on prospecting
                  safaris.

                  So I’ll stay here at home and hold thumbs that George makes a lucky strike.

                  Heaps of love to all,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 27th February 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  Well, George has gone but here we are quite safe and cosy. Kate is asleep and
                  Ann and Georgie are sprawled on the couch taking it in turns to enumerate the things
                  God has made. Every now and again Ann bothers me with an awkward question. “Did
                  God make spiders? Well what for? Did he make weeds? Isn’t He silly, mummy? She is
                  becoming a very practical person. She sews surprisingly well for a four year old and has
                  twice made cakes in the past week, very sweet and liberally coloured with cochineal and
                  much appreciated by Georgie.

                  I have been without George for a fortnight and have adapted myself to my new
                  life. The children are great company during the day and I have arranged my evenings so
                  that they do not seem long. I am determined that when George comes home he will find
                  a transformed wife. I read an article entitled ‘Are you the girl he married?’ in a magazine
                  last week and took a good look in the mirror and decided that I certainly was not! Hair dry,
                  skin dry, and I fear, a faint shadow on the upper lip. So now I have blown the whole of
                  your Christmas Money Order on an order to a chemist in Dar es Salaam for hair tonic,
                  face cream and hair remover and am anxiously awaiting the parcel.

                  In the meantime, after tucking the children into bed at night, I skip on the verandah
                  and do the series of exercises recommended in the magazine article. After this exertion I
                  have a leisurely bath followed by a light supper and then read or write letters to pass
                  the time until Kate’s ten o’clock feed. I have arranged for Janey to sleep in the house.
                  She comes in at 9.30 pm and makes up her bed on the living room floor by the fire.

                  The days are by no means uneventful. The day before yesterday the biggest
                  troop of monkeys I have ever seen came fooling around in the trees and on the grass
                  only a few yards from the house. These monkeys were the common grey monkeys
                  with black faces. They came in all sizes and were most entertaining to watch. Ann and
                  Georgie had a great time copying their antics and pulling faces at the monkeys through
                  the bedroom windows which I hastily closed.

                  Thomas, our headman, came running up and told me that this troop of monkeys
                  had just raided his maize shamba and asked me to shoot some of them. I would not of
                  course do this. I still cannot bear to kill any animal, but I fired a couple of shots in the air
                  and the monkeys just melted away. It was fantastic, one moment they were there and
                  the next they were not. Ann and Georgie thought I had been very unkind to frighten the
                  poor monkeys but honestly, when I saw what they had done to my flower garden, I
                  almost wished I had hardened my heart and shot one or two.

                  The children are all well but Ann gave me a nasty fright last week. I left Ann and
                  Georgie at breakfast whilst I fed Fanny, our bull terrier on the back verandah. Suddenly I
                  heard a crash and rushed inside to find Ann’s chair lying on its back and Ann beside it on
                  the floor perfectly still and with a paper white face. I shouted for Janey to bring water and
                  laid Ann flat on the couch and bathed her head and hands. Soon she sat up with a wan
                  smile and said “I nearly knocked my head off that time, didn’t I.” She must have been
                  standing on the chair and leaning against the back. Our brick floors are so terribly hard that
                  she might have been seriously hurt.

                  However she was none the worse for the fall, but Heavens, what an anxiety kids
                  are.

                  Lots of love,
                  Eleanor

                  Mchewe Estate. 12th March 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  It was marvellous of you to send another money order to replace the one I spent
                  on cosmetics. With this one I intend to order boots for both children as a protection from
                  snake bite, though from my experience this past week the threat seems to be to the
                  head rather than the feet. I was sitting on the couch giving Kate her morning milk from a
                  cup when a long thin snake fell through the reed ceiling and landed with a thud just behind
                  the couch. I shouted “Nyoka, Nyoka!” (Snake,Snake!) and the houseboy rushed in with
                  a stick and killed the snake. I then held the cup to Kate’s mouth again but I suppose in
                  my agitation I tipped it too much because the baby choked badly. She gasped for
                  breath. I quickly gave her a sharp smack on the back and a stream of milk gushed
                  through her mouth and nostrils and over me. Janey took Kate from me and carried her
                  out into the fresh air on the verandah and as I anxiously followed her through the door,
                  another long snake fell from the top of the wall just missing me by an inch or so. Luckily
                  the houseboy still had the stick handy and dispatched this snake also.

                  The snakes were a pair of ‘boomslangs’, not nice at all, and all day long I have
                  had shamba boys coming along to touch hands and say “Poli Memsahib” – “Sorry
                  madam”, meaning of course ‘Sorry you had a fright.’

                  Apart from that one hectic morning this has been a quiet week. Before George
                  left for the Lupa he paid off most of the farm hands as we can now only afford a few
                  labourers for the essential work such as keeping the weeds down in the coffee shamba.
                  There is now no one to keep the grass on the farm roads cut so we cannot use the pram
                  when we go on our afternoon walks. Instead Janey carries Kate in a sling on her back.
                  Janey is a very clean slim woman, and her clothes are always spotless, so Kate keeps
                  cool and comfortable. Ann and Georgie always wear thick overalls on our walks as a
                  protection against thorns and possible snakes. We usually make our way to the
                  Mchewe River where Ann and Georgie paddle in the clear cold water and collect shiny
                  stones.

                  The cosmetics parcel duly arrived by post from Dar es Salaam so now I fill the
                  evenings between supper and bed time attending to my face! The much advertised
                  cream is pink and thick and feels revolting. I smooth it on before bedtime and keep it on
                  all night. Just imagine if George could see me! The advertisements promise me a skin
                  like a rose in six weeks. What a surprise there is in store for George!

                  You will have been wondering what has happened to George. Well on the Lupa
                  he heard rumours of a new gold strike somewhere in the Sumbawanga District. A couple
                  of hundred miles from here I think, though I am not sure where it is and have no one to
                  ask. You look it up on the map and tell me. John Molteno is also interested in this and
                  anxious to have it confirmed so he and George have come to an agreement. John
                  Molteno provided the porters for the journey together with prospecting tools and
                  supplies but as he cannot leave his claims, or his gold buying business, George is to go
                  on foot to the area of the rumoured gold strike and, if the strike looks promising will peg
                  claims in both their names.

                  The rainy season is now at its height and the whole countryside is under water. All
                  roads leading to the area are closed to traffic and, as there are few Europeans who
                  would attempt the journey on foot, George proposes to get a head start on them by
                  making this uncomfortable safari. I have just had my first letter from George since he left
                  on this prospecting trip. It took ages to reach me because it was sent by runner to
                  Abercorn in Northern Rhodesia, then on by lorry to Mpika where it was put on a plane
                  for Mbeya. George writes the most charming letters which console me a little upon our
                  all too frequent separations.

                  His letter was cheerful and optimistic, though reading between the lines I should
                  say he had a grim time. He has reached Sumbawanga after ‘a hell of a trip’, to find that
                  the rumoured strike was at Mpanda and he had a few more days of foot safari ahead.
                  He had found the trip from the Lupa even wetter than he had expected. The party had
                  three days of wading through swamps sometimes waist deep in water. Of his sixteen
                  porters, four deserted an the second day out and five others have had malaria and so
                  been unable to carry their loads. He himself is ‘thin but very fit’, and he sounds full of
                  beans and writes gaily of the marvellous holiday we will have if he has any decent luck! I
                  simply must get that mink and diamonds complexion.

                  The frustrating thing is that I cannot write back as I have no idea where George is
                  now.

                  With heaps of love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 24th March 1936

                  Dearest Family,
                  How kind you are. Another parcel from home. Although we are very short
                  of labourers I sent a special runner to fetch it as Ann simply couldn’t bear the suspense
                  of waiting to see Brenda, “My new little girl with plaits.” Thank goodness Brenda is
                  unbreakable. I could not have born another tragedy. She really is an exquisite little doll
                  and has hardly been out of Ann’s arms since arrival. She showed Brenda proudly to all
                  the staff. The kitchen boy’s face was a study. His eyes fairly came out on sticks when he
                  saw the dolls eyes not only opening and shutting, but moving from side to side in that
                  incredibly lifelike way. Georgie loves his little model cars which he carries around all day
                  and puts under his pillow at night.

                  As for me, I am enchanted by my very smart new frock. Janey was so lavish with
                  her compliments when I tried the frock on, that in a burst of generosity I gave her that
                  rather tartish satin and lace trousseau nighty, and she was positively enthralled. She
                  wore it that very night when she appeared as usual to doss down by the fire.
                  By the way it was Janey’s turn to have a fright this week. She was in the
                  bathroom washing the children’s clothes in an outsize hand basin when it happened. As
                  she took Georgie’s overalls from the laundry basket a large centipede ran up her bare
                  arm. Luckily she managed to knock the centipede off into the hot water in the hand basin.
                  It was a brute, about six inches long of viciousness with a nasty sting. The locals say that
                  the bite is much worse than a scorpions so Janey had a lucky escape.

                  Kate cut her first two teeth yesterday and will, I hope, sleep better now. I don’t
                  feel that pink skin food is getting a fair trial with all those broken nights. There is certainly
                  no sign yet of ‘The skin he loves to touch”. Kate, I may say, is rosy and blooming. She
                  can pull herself upright providing she has something solid to hold on to. She is so plump
                  I have horrible visions of future bow legs so I push her down, but she always bobs up
                  again.

                  Both Ann and Georgie are mad on books. Their favourites are ‘Barbar and
                  Celeste” and, of all things, ‘Struvel Peter’ . They listen with absolute relish to the sad tale
                  of Harriet who played with matches.

                  I have kept a laugh for the end. I am hoping that it will not be long before George
                  comes home and thought it was time to take the next step towards glamour, so last
                  Wednesday after lunch I settled the children on their beds and prepared to remove the ,
                  to me, obvious down on my upper lip. (George always loyally says that he can’t see
                  any.) Well I got out the tube of stuff and carefully followed the directions. I smoothed a
                  coating on my upper lip. All this was watched with great interest by the children, including
                  the baby, who stood up in her cot for a better view. Having no watch, I had propped
                  the bedroom door open so that I could time the operation by the cuckoo clock in the
                  living room. All the children’s surprised comments fell on deaf ears. I would neither talk
                  nor smile for fear of cracking the hair remover which had set hard. The set time was up
                  and I was just about to rinse the remover off when Kate slipped, knocking her head on
                  the corner of the cot. I rushed to the rescue and precious seconds ticked off whilst I
                  pacified her.

                  So, my dears, when I rinsed my lip, not only the plaster and the hair came away
                  but the skin as well and now I really did have a Ronald Coleman moustache – a crimson
                  one. I bathed it, I creamed it, powdered it but all to no avail. Within half an hour my lip
                  had swollen until I looked like one of those Duckbilled West African women. Ann’s
                  comments, “Oh Mummy, you do look funny. Georgie, doesn’t Mummy look funny?”
                  didn’t help to soothe me and the last straw was that just then there was the sound of a car drawing up outside – the first car I had heard for months. Anyway, thank heaven, it
                  was not George, but the representative of a firm which sells agricultural machinery and
                  farm implements, looking for orders. He had come from Dar es Salaam and had not
                  heard that all the planters from this district had left their farms. Hospitality demanded that I
                  should appear and offer tea. I did not mind this man because he was a complete
                  stranger and fat, middle aged and comfortable. So I gave him tea, though I didn’t
                  attempt to drink any myself, and told him the whole sad tale.

                  Fortunately much of the swelling had gone next day and only a brown dryness
                  remained. I find myself actually hoping that George is delayed a bit longer. Of one thing
                  I am sure. If ever I grow a moustache again, it stays!

                  Heaps of love from a sadder but wiser,
                  Eleanor

                  Mchewe Estate. 3rd April 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  Sound the trumpets, beat the drums. George is home again. The safari, I am sad
                  to say, was a complete washout in more ways than one. Anyway it was lovely to be
                  together again and we don’t yet talk about the future. The home coming was not at all as
                  I had planned it. I expected George to return in our old A.C. car which gives ample
                  warning of its arrival. I had meant to wear my new frock and make myself as glamourous
                  as possible, with our beautiful babe on one arm and our other jewels by my side.
                  This however is what actually happened. Last Saturday morning at about 2 am , I
                  thought I heard someone whispering my name. I sat up in bed, still half asleep, and
                  there was George at the window. He was thin and unshaven and the tiredest looking
                  man I have ever seen. The car had bogged down twenty miles back along the old Lupa
                  Track, but as George had had no food at all that day, he decided to walk home in the
                  bright moonlight.

                  This is where I should have served up a tasty hot meal but alas, there was only
                  the heal of a loaf and no milk because, before going to bed I had given the remaining
                  milk to the dog. However George seemed too hungry to care what he ate. He made a
                  meal off a tin of bully, a box of crustless cheese and the bread washed down with cup
                  after cup of black tea. Though George was tired we talked for hours and it was dawn
                  before we settled down to sleep.

                  During those hours of talk George described his nightmarish journey. He started
                  up the flooded Rukwa Valley and there were days of wading through swamp and mud
                  and several swollen rivers to cross. George is a strong swimmer and the porters who
                  were recruited in that area, could also swim. There remained the problem of the stores
                  and of Kianda the houseboy who cannot swim. For these they made rough pole rafts
                  which they pulled across the rivers with ropes. Kianda told me later that he hopes never
                  to make such a journey again. He swears that the raft was submerged most of the time
                  and that he was dragged through the rivers underwater! You should see the state of
                  George’s clothes which were packed in a supposedly water tight uniform trunk. The
                  whole lot are mud stained and mouldy.

                  To make matters more trying for George he was obliged to live mostly on
                  porters rations, rice and groundnut oil which he detests. As all the district roads were
                  closed the little Indian Sores in the remote villages he passed had been unable to
                  replenish their stocks of European groceries. George would have been thinner had it not
                  been for two Roman Catholic missions enroute where he had good meals and dry
                  nights. The Fathers are always wonderfully hospitable to wayfarers irrespective of
                  whether or not they are Roman Catholics. George of course is not a Catholic. One finds
                  the Roman Catholic missions right out in the ‘Blue’ and often on spots unhealthy to
                  Europeans. Most of the Fathers are German or Dutch but they all speak a little English
                  and in any case one can always fall back on Ki-Swahili.

                  George reached his destination all right but it soon became apparent that reports
                  of the richness of the strike had been greatly exaggerated. George had decided that
                  prospects were brighter on the Lupa than on the new strike so he returned to the Lupa
                  by the way he had come and, having returned the borrowed equipment decided to
                  make his way home by the shortest route, the old and now rarely used road which
                  passes by the bottom of our farm.

                  The old A.C. had been left for safe keeping at the Roman Catholic Galala
                  Mission 40 miles away, on George’s outward journey, and in this old car George, and
                  the houseboy Kianda , started for home. The road was indescribably awful. There were long stretches that were simply one big puddle, in others all the soil had been washed
                  away leaving the road like a rocky river bed. There were also patches where the tall
                  grass had sprung up head high in the middle of the road,
                  The going was slow because often the car bogged down because George had
                  no wheel chains and he and Kianda had the wearisome business of digging her out. It
                  was just growing dark when the old A.C. settled down determinedly in the mud for the
                  last time. They could not budge her and they were still twenty miles from home. George
                  decided to walk home in the moonlight to fetch help leaving Kianda in charge of the car
                  and its contents and with George’s shot gun to use if necessary in self defence. Kianda
                  was reluctant to stay but also not prepared to go for help whilst George remained with
                  the car as lions are plentiful in that area. So George set out unarmed in the moonlight.
                  Once he stopped to avoid a pride of lion coming down the road but he circled safely
                  around them and came home without any further alarms.

                  Kianda said he had a dreadful night in the car, “With lions roaming around the car
                  like cattle.” Anyway the lions did not take any notice of the car or of Kianda, and the next
                  day George walked back with all our farm boys and dug and pushed the car out of the
                  mud. He brought car and Kianda back without further trouble but the labourers on their
                  way home were treed by the lions.

                  The wet season is definitely the time to stay home.

                  Lots and lots of love,
                  Eleanor

                  Mchewe Estate. 30th April 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  Young George’s third birthday passed off very well yesterday. It started early in
                  the morning when he brought his pillow slip of presents to our bed. Kate was already
                  there and Ann soon joined us. Young George liked all the presents you sent, especially
                  the trumpet. It has hardly left his lips since and he is getting quite smart about the finger
                  action.

                  We had quite a party. Ann and I decorated the table with Christmas tree tinsel
                  and hung a bunch of balloons above it. Ann also decorated young George’s chair with
                  roses and phlox from the garden. I had made and iced a fruit cake but Ann begged to
                  make a plain pink cake. She made it entirely by herself though I stood by to see that
                  she measured the ingredients correctly. When the cake was baked I mixed some soft
                  icing in a jug and she poured it carefully over the cake smoothing the gaps with her
                  fingers!

                  During the party we had the gramophone playing and we pulled crackers and
                  wore paper hats and altogether had a good time. I forgot for a while that George is
                  leaving again for the Lupa tomorrow for an indefinite time. He was marvellous at making
                  young George’s party a gay one. You will have noticed the change from Georgie to
                  young George. Our son declares that he now wants to be called George, “Like Dad”.
                  He an Ann are a devoted couple and I am glad that there is only a fourteen
                  months difference in their ages. They play together extremely well and are very
                  independent which is just as well for little Kate now demands a lot of my attention. My
                  garden is a real cottage garden and looks very gay and colourful. There are hollyhocks
                  and Snapdragons, marigolds and phlox and of course the roses and carnations which, as
                  you know, are my favourites. The coffee shamba does not look so good because the
                  small labour force, which is all we can afford, cannot cope with all the weeds. You have
                  no idea how things grow during the wet season in the tropics.

                  Nothing alarming ever seems to happen when George is home, so I’m afraid this
                  letter is rather dull. I wanted you to know though, that largely due to all your gifts of toys
                  and sweets, Georgie’s 3rd birthday party went with a bang.

                  Your very affectionate,
                  Eleanor

                  Mchewe Estate. 17th September 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  I am sorry to hear that Mummy worries about me so much. “Poor Eleanor”,
                  indeed! I have a quite exceptional husband, three lovely children, a dear little home and
                  we are all well.It is true that I am in rather a rut but what else can we do? George comes
                  home whenever he can and what excitement there is when he does come. He cannot
                  give me any warning because he has to take advantage of chance lifts from the Diggings
                  to Mbeya, but now that he is prospecting nearer home he usually comes walking over
                  the hills. About 50 miles of rough going. Really and truly I am all right. Although our diet is
                  monotonous we have plenty to eat. Eggs and milk are cheap and fruit plentiful and I
                  have a good cook so can devote all my time to the children. I think it is because they are
                  my constant companions that Ann and Georgie are so grown up for their years.
                  I have no ayah at present because Janey has been suffering form rheumatism
                  and has gone home for one of her periodic rests. I manage very well without her except
                  in the matter of the afternoon walks. The outward journey is all right. George had all the
                  grass cut on his last visit so I am able to push the pram whilst Ann, George and Fanny
                  the dog run ahead. It is the uphill return trip that is so trying. Our walk back is always the
                  same, down the hill to the river where the children love to play and then along the car
                  road to the vegetable garden. I never did venture further since the day I saw a leopard
                  jump on a calf. I did not tell you at the time as I thought you might worry. The cattle were
                  grazing on a small knoll just off our land but near enough for me to have a clear view.
                  Suddenly the cattle scattered in all directions and we heard the shouts of the herd boys
                  and saw – or rather had the fleeting impression- of a large animal jumping on a calf. I
                  heard the herd boy shout “Chui, Chui!” (leopard) and believe me, we turned in our
                  tracks and made for home. To hasten things I picked up two sticks and told the children
                  that they were horses and they should ride them home which they did with
                  commendable speed.

                  Ann no longer rides Joseph. He became increasingly bad tempered and a
                  nuisance besides. He took to rolling all over my flower beds though I had never seen
                  him roll anywhere else. Then one day he kicked Ann in the chest, not very hard but
                  enough to send her flying. Now George has given him to the native who sells milk to us
                  and he seems quite happy grazing with the cattle.

                  With love to you all,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 2nd October 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  Since I last wrote George has been home and we had a lovely time as usual.
                  Whilst he was here the District Commissioner and his wife called. Mr Pollock told
                  George that there is to be a big bush clearing scheme in some part of the Mbeya
                  District to drive out Tsetse Fly. The game in the area will have to be exterminated and
                  there will probably be a job for George shooting out the buffalo. The pay would be
                  good but George says it is a beastly job. Although he is a professional hunter, he hates
                  slaughter.

                  Mrs P’s real reason for visiting the farm was to invite me to stay at her home in
                  Mbeya whilst she and her husband are away in Tukuyu. Her English nanny and her small
                  daughter will remain in Mbeya and she thought it might be a pleasant change for us and
                  a rest for me as of course Nanny will do the housekeeping. I accepted the invitation and I
                  think I will go on from there to Tukuyu and visit my friend Lillian Eustace for a fortnight.
                  She has given us an open invitation to visit her at any time.

                  I had a letter from Dr Eckhardt last week, telling me that at a meeting of all the
                  German Settlers from Mbeya, Tukuyu and Mbosi it had been decided to raise funds to
                  build a school at Mbeya. They want the British Settlers to co-operate in this and would
                  be glad of a subscription from us. I replied to say that I was unable to afford a
                  subscription at present but would probably be applying for a teaching job.
                  The Eckhardts are the leaders of the German community here and are ardent
                  Nazis. For this reason they are unpopular with the British community but he is the only
                  doctor here and I must say they have been very decent to us. Both of them admire
                  George. George has still not had any luck on the Lupa and until he makes a really
                  promising strike it is unlikely that the children and I will join him. There is no fresh milk there
                  and vegetables and fruit are imported from Mbeya and Iringa and are very expensive.
                  George says “You wouldn’t be happy on the diggings anyway with a lot of whores and
                  their bastards!”

                  Time ticks away very pleasantly here. Young George and Kate are blooming
                  and I keep well. Only Ann does not look well. She is growing too fast and is listless and
                  pale. If I do go to Mbeya next week I shall take her to the doctor to be overhauled.
                  We do not go for our afternoon walks now that George has returned to the Lupa.
                  That leopard has been around again and has killed Tubbage that cowardly Alsatian. We
                  gave him to the village headman some months ago. There is no danger to us from the
                  leopard but I am terrified it might get Fanny, who is an excellent little watchdog and
                  dearly loved by all of us. Yesterday I sent a note to the Boma asking for a trap gun and
                  today the farm boys are building a trap with logs.

                  I had a mishap this morning in the garden. I blundered into a nest of hornets and
                  got two stings in the left arm above the elbow. Very painful at the time and the place is
                  still red and swollen.

                  Much love to you all,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe Estate. 10th October 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  Well here we are at Mbeya, comfortably installed in the District Commissioner’s
                  house. It is one of two oldest houses in Mbeya and is a charming gabled place with tiled
                  roof. The garden is perfectly beautiful. I am enjoying the change very much. Nanny
                  Baxter is very entertaining. She has a vast fund of highly entertaining tales of the goings
                  on amongst the British Aristocracy, gleaned it seems over the nursery teacup in many a
                  Stately Home. Ann and Georgie are enjoying the company of other children.
                  People are very kind about inviting us out to tea and I gladly accept these
                  invitations but I have turned down invitations to dinner and one to a dance at the hotel. It
                  is no fun to go out at night without George. There are several grass widows at the pub
                  whose husbands are at the diggings. They have no inhibitions about parties.
                  I did have one night and day here with George, he got the chance of a lift and
                  knowing that we were staying here he thought the chance too good to miss. He was
                  also anxious to hear the Doctor’s verdict on Ann. I took Ann to hospital on my second
                  day here. Dr Eckhardt said there was nothing specifically wrong but that Ann is a highly
                  sensitive type with whom the tropics does not agree. He advised that Ann should
                  spend a year in a more temperate climate and that the sooner she goes the better. I felt
                  very discouraged to hear this and was most relieved when George turned up
                  unexpectedly that evening. He phoo-hood Dr Eckhardt’s recommendation and next
                  morning called in Dr Aitkin, the Government Doctor from Chunya and who happened to
                  be in Mbeya.

                  Unfortunately Dr Aitkin not only confirmed Dr Eckhardt’s opinion but said that he
                  thought Ann should stay out of the tropics until she had passed adolescence. I just don’t
                  know what to do about Ann. She is a darling child, very sensitive and gentle and a
                  lovely companion to me. Also she and young George are inseparable and I just cannot
                  picture one without the other. I know that you would be glad to have Ann but how could
                  we bear to part with her?

                  Your worried but affectionate,
                  Eleanor.

                  Tukuyu. 23rd October 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  As you see we have moved to Tukuyu and we are having a lovely time with
                  Lillian Eustace. She gave us such a warm welcome and has put herself out to give us
                  every comfort. She is a most capable housekeeper and I find her such a comfortable
                  companion because we have the same outlook in life. Both of us are strictly one man
                  women and that is rare here. She has a two year old son, Billy, who is enchanted with
                  our rolly polly Kate and there are other children on the station with whom Ann and
                  Georgie can play. Lillian engaged a temporary ayah for me so I am having a good rest.
                  All the children look well and Ann in particular seems to have benefited by the
                  change to a cooler climate. She has a good colour and looks so well that people all
                  exclaim when I tell them, that two doctors have advised us to send Ann out of the
                  country. Perhaps after all, this holiday in Tukuyu will set her up.

                  We had a trying journey from Mbeya to Tukuyu in the Post Lorry. The three
                  children and I were squeezed together on the front seat between the African driver on
                  one side and a vast German on the other. Both men smoked incessantly – the driver
                  cigarettes, and the German cheroots. The cab was clouded with a blue haze. Not only
                  that! I suddenly felt a smarting sensation on my right thigh. The driver’s cigarette had
                  burnt a hole right through that new checked linen frock you sent me last month.
                  I had Kate on my lap all the way but Ann and Georgie had to stand against the
                  windscreen all the way. The fat German offered to take Ann on his lap but she gave him
                  a very cold “No thank you.” Nor did I blame her. I would have greatly enjoyed the drive
                  under less crowded conditions. The scenery is gorgeous. One drives through very high
                  country crossing lovely clear streams and at one point through rain forest. As it was I
                  counted the miles and how thankful I was to see the end of the journey.
                  In the days when Tanganyika belonged to the Germans, Tukuyu was the
                  administrative centre for the whole of the Southern Highlands Province. The old German
                  Fort is still in use as Government offices and there are many fine trees which were
                  planted by the Germans. There is a large prosperous native population in this area.
                  They go in chiefly for coffee and for bananas which form the basis of their diet.
                  There are five British married couples here and Lillian and I go out to tea most
                  mornings. In the afternoon there is tennis or golf. The gardens here are beautiful because
                  there is rain or at least drizzle all the year round. There are even hedge roses bordering
                  some of the district roads. When one walks across the emerald green golf course or
                  through the Boma gardens, it is hard to realise that this gentle place is Tropical Africa.
                  ‘Such a green and pleasant land’, but I think I prefer our corner of Tanganyika.

                  Much love,
                  Eleanor.

                  Mchewe. 12th November 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  We had a lovely holiday but it is so nice to be home again, especially as Laza,
                  the local Nimrod, shot that leopard whilst we were away (with his muzzleloader gun). He
                  was justly proud of himself, and I gave him a tip so that he could buy some native beer
                  for a celebration. I have never seen one of theses parties but can hear the drums and
                  sounds of merrymaking, especially on moonlight nights.

                  Our house looks so fresh and uncluttered. Whilst I was away, the boys
                  whitewashed the house and my houseboy had washed all the curtains, bedspreads,
                  and loose covers and watered the garden. If only George were here it would be
                  heaven.

                  Ann looked so bonny at Tukuyu that I took her to the Government Doctor there
                  hoping that he would find her perfectly healthy, but alas he endorsed the finding of the
                  other two doctors so, when an opportunity offers, I think I shall have to send Ann down
                  to you for a long holiday from the Tropics. Mother-in-law has offered to fetch her next
                  year but England seems so far away. With you she will at least be on the same
                  continent.

                  I left the children for the first time ever, except for my stay in hospital when Kate
                  was born, to go on an outing to Lake Masoko in the Tukuyu district, with four friends.
                  Masoko is a beautiful, almost circular crater lake and very very deep. A detachment of
                  the King’s African Rifles are stationed there and occupy the old German barracks
                  overlooking the lake.

                  We drove to Masoko by car and spent the afternoon there as guests of two
                  British Army Officers. We had a good tea and the others went bathing in the lake but i
                  could not as I did not have a costume. The Lake was as beautiful as I had been lead to
                  imagine and our hosts were pleasant but I began to grow anxious as the afternoon
                  advanced and my friends showed no signs of leaving. I was in agonies when they
                  accepted an invitation to stay for a sundowner. We had this in the old German beer
                  garden overlooking the Lake. It was beautiful but what did I care. I had promised the
                  children that I would be home to give them their supper and put them to bed. When I
                  did at length return to Lillian’s house I found the situation as I had expected. Ann, with her
                  imagination had come to the conclusion that I never would return. She had sobbed
                  herself into a state of exhaustion. Kate was screaming in sympathy and George 2 was
                  very truculent. He wouldn’t even speak to me. Poor Lillian had had a trying time.
                  We did not return to Mbeya by the Mail Lorry. Bill and Lillian drove us across to
                  Mbeya in their new Ford V8 car. The children chattered happily in the back of the car
                  eating chocolate and bananas all the way. I might have known what would happen! Ann
                  was dreadfully and messily car sick.

                  I engaged the Mbeya Hotel taxi to drive us out to the farm the same afternoon
                  and I expect it will be a long time before we leave the farm again.

                  Lots and lots of love to all,
                  Eleanor.

                  Chunya 27th November 1936

                  Dearest Family,

                  You will be surprised to hear that we are all together now on the Lupa goldfields.
                  I have still not recovered from my own astonishment at being here. Until last Saturday
                  night I never dreamed of this move. At about ten o’clock I was crouched in the inglenook
                  blowing on the embers to make a fire so that I could heat some milk for Kate who is
                  cutting teeth and was very restless. Suddenly I heard a car outside. I knew it must be
                  George and rushed outside storm lamp in hand. Sure enough, there was George
                  standing by a strange car, and beaming all over his face. “Something for you my love,”
                  he said placing a little bundle in my hand. It was a knotted handkerchief and inside was a
                  fine gold nugget.

                  George had that fire going in no time, Kate was given the milk and half an aspirin
                  and settles down to sleep, whilst George and I sat around for an hour chatting over our
                  tea. He told me that he had borrowed the car from John Molteno and had come to fetch
                  me and the children to join him on the diggings for a while. It seems that John, who has a
                  camp at Itewe, a couple of miles outside the township of Chunya, the new
                  Administrative Centre of the diggings, was off to the Cape to visit his family for a few
                  months. John had asked George to run his claims in his absence and had given us the
                  loan of his camp and his car.

                  George had found the nugget on his own claim but he is not too elated because
                  he says that one good month on the diggings is often followed by several months of
                  dead loss. However, I feel hopeful, we have had such a run of bad luck that surely it is
                  time for the tide to change. George spent Sunday going over the farm with Thomas, the
                  headman, and giving him instructions about future work whilst I packed clothes and
                  kitchen equipment. I have brought our ex-kitchenboy Kesho Kutwa with me as cook and
                  also Janey, who heard that we were off to the Lupa and came to offer her services once
                  more as ayah. Janey’s ex-husband Abel is now cook to one of the more successful
                  diggers and I think she is hoping to team up with him again.

                  The trip over the Mbeya-Chunya pass was new to me and I enjoyed it very
                  much indeed. The road winds over the mountains along a very high escarpment and
                  one looks down on the vast Usangu flats stretching far away to the horizon. At the
                  highest point the road rises to about 7000 feet, and this was too much for Ann who was
                  leaning against the back of my seat. She was very thoroughly sick, all over my hair.
                  This camp of John Molteno’s is very comfortable. It consists of two wattle and
                  daub buildings built end to end in a clearing in the miombo bush. The main building
                  consists of a large living room, a store and an office, and the other of one large bedroom
                  and a small one separated by an area for bathing. Both buildings are thatched. There are
                  no doors, and there are no windows, but these are not necessary because one wall of
                  each building is built up only a couple of feet leaving a six foot space for light and air. As
                  this is the dry season the weather is pleasant. The air is fresh and dry but not nearly so
                  hot as I expected.

                  Water is a problem and must be carried long distances in kerosene tins.
                  vegetables and fresh butter are brought in a van from Iringa and Mbeya Districts about
                  once a fortnight. I have not yet visited Chunya but I believe it is as good a shopping
                  centre as Mbeya so we will be able to buy all the non perishable food stuffs we need.
                  What I do miss is the fresh milk. The children are accustomed to drinking at least a pint of
                  milk each per day but they do not care for the tinned variety.

                  Ann and young George love being here. The camp is surrounded by old
                  prospecting trenches and they spend hours each day searching for gold in the heaps of gravel. Sometimes they find quartz pitted with little spots of glitter and they bring them
                  to me in great excitement. Alas it is only Mica. We have two neighbours. The one is a
                  bearded Frenchman and the other an Australian. I have not yet met any women.
                  George looks very sunburnt and extremely fit and the children also look well.
                  George and I have decided that we will keep Ann with us until my Mother-in-law comes
                  out next year. George says that in spite of what the doctors have said, he thinks that the
                  shock to Ann of being separated from her family will do her more harm than good. She
                  and young George are inseparable and George thinks it would be best if both
                  George and Ann return to England with my Mother-in-law for a couple of years. I try not
                  to think at all about the breaking up of the family.

                  Much love to all,
                  Eleanor.

                   

                  #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.”

                    #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.

                    #4791

                    Once he’d finished to tell the story, and let the kids go back to the cottage for the night, Rukshan’s likeness started to vanish from the place, and his consciousness slowly returned to the place where his actual body was before projecting.

                    Being closer to the Sacred Forest enhanced his capacities, and where before he could just do sneak peeks through minutes of remote viewing, he could now somehow project a full body illusion to his friends. He’d been surprised that Fox didn’t seem to notice at all that he wasn’t truly there. His senses were probably too distracted by the smells of food and chickens.

                    He’d wanted to check on his friends, and make sure they were alright, but it seemed his path ahead was his own. He realized that the finishing of the loo was not his own path, and there was no point for him to wait for the return of the carpenter. That work was in more capable hands with Glynis and her magic.

                    His stomach made an indiscreet rumbling noise. It was not like him to be worried about food, but he’d gone for hours without much to eat. He looked at his sheepskin, and the milk in it had finally curdled. He took a sip of the whey, and found it refreshing. There wouldn’t be goats to milk in this part of the Forest, as they favored the sharp cliffs of the opposite site. This and a collection of dried roots would have to do until… the other side.

                    To find the entrance wasn’t too difficult, once you understood the directions offered by the old map he’d recovered.

                    He was on the inner side of the ringed protective enclosures, so now, all he needed was to get into the inner sanctum of the Heartwood Forest, who would surely resist and block his path in different ways.

                    “The Forest is a mandala of your true nature…”

                    He turned around. Surprised to see Kumihimo there.

                    “Don’t look surprised Fae, you’re not the only one who knows these parlor tricks.” She giggled like a young girl.

                    “of my nature?” Rukshan asked.

                    “Oh well, of yours, and anybody’s for that matter. It’s all One you, see. The way you see it, it represents yourself. But it would be true for anybody, there aren’t any differences really, only in the one who sees.”

                    She reappeared behind his back, making him turn around. “So tell me,” she said “what do you see here?”

                    “It’s where the oldest and strongest trees have hardened, it’s like a fence, and a… a memory?”

                    “Interesting.” She said “What you say is true, it’s memory, but it’s not dead like you seem to imply. It’s hardened, but very much alive. Like stone is alive. The Giants understood that. And what are you looking for?”

                    “An entrance, I guess. A weak spot, a crack, a wedge?”

                    “And why would you need that? What if the heart was the staircase itself? What if in was out and down was up?”

                    Rukshan had barely time to mouth “thank you” while the likeness of the Braid Seer floated away. She’d helped him figure out the entrance. He touched one of the ring of the hard charred trees. They were pressed together, all clomped in a dense and large enclosure virtually impossible to penetrate. His other memories told him the way was inside, but his old memories were misleading.
                    Branches were extending from the trunks, some high and inaccessible, hiding the vision of the starry sky, some low, nearly indistinguishable from old gnarled roots. If you looked closely, you could see the branches whirring around like… Archimedes Screw. A staircase?

                    He jumped on a branch at his level, which barely registered his weight. The branch was dense and very slick, polished by the weathering of the elements, with the feel of an old leather. He almost lost his balance and scrapped his hands between the thumb and the index.

                    “Down is up?”

                    He spun around the branch, his legs wrapped around the branch. He expected his backpack to drag him towards the floor, but strangely, even if from his upside-down perspective, it was floating above him, it was as if it was weightless.

                    He decided to take a chance. Slowly, he hoisted himself towards his floating bag, and instead of falling, it was as though the branch was his ground. Now instead of a spiral staircase around the trees leading to heavens, it was the other side of the staircase that spiraled downwards to the starry night.

                    With his sheepskin and back still hovering, he started to climb down the branches towards the Giants’ land.

                    #4166
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Aunt Idle:

                      One of the best things about going away is the pleasure of coming home. Never in a million years would I expect to miss dust, or overflowing ashtrays, but it was so good to see that familiar layer of dust all over everything.

                      I cut Maters grumbling short and lugged my case up to my bedroom, calling “Jet lag, speak later” over my shoulder. What was she on about anyway, two more twins from the past? It rings a bell, but I’ll think about that later. I hope she’s preparing a bit of dinner, some of that food in Iceland was ghastly, especially if you’re not a fishy sort of person.

                      Now all I want to do is get out of these clothes and into an old tattered T shirt ~ the oldest favourite, the black faded to greenish grey ~ and sprawl back on my bed smoking. Dropping ash on the bed cover watching the smoke and dust motes dancing in the shaft of warm sunlight. Stretching my limbs out unencumbered with layers of clothing and feeling the air on my skin.

                      Iceland is very nice in many ways, I took hundreds of photographs of the scenery and all, but shivering outside while quickly sucking down a lungful, or leaning out of an open window in the arctic blasts is not my idea of a relaxing holiday. Not that I went there to relax I suppose, which is just as well, because it wasn’t the least bit relaxing.

                      I drifted off to sleep, contentedly gazing at the stains on the ceiling that looked like maps of other worlds, vaguely recalling some of the names I’d made up for the islands and continents over the years, and woke up later dreaming of Fred, of all people. For a minute when I woke up I could have sworn he was standing right there next to my bed, watching me sleep. I blinked, trying to focus, and he was gone.

                      #3232
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        Queens Team and 2121 originated time-travellers

                        Reginald / Maurana Banana
                        Cedric / Consuela Winnie
                        Amar / Terry Bubble
                        Sadie Merrie
                        Linda Paul

                        Supporting team

                        Pseu, Maria del Mar, Janice (from the City, around 2257)
                        Sanso (from other dimension, multi-dimensional travel contractor)
                        Frindle, Trumble, Jingle (fuck knows who they are)
                        the Hawai’i techromancer

                        Management team (around 2222 and later)

                        Irina, mermaid Russian spy and parrot whisperer

                        Jonbert, the orchestrator of the time-travelling arcs, wanting to retrieve key information from St Germain which were collected in 1757. En route back to 2222 to intercept the whales’ crystal with help from Linda Paul’s team, and his luxury submarine

                        1757 King’s Versailles

                        The Queen
                        Madame de Pompadour
                        her maid Nicole du Hausset, coming from a line of time-smugglers
                        Mr Aliette the wigmaker and finger reader
                        Count de St Germain
                        Giacomo Casanova (pseudonyms Monsieur de St Galle / Jacques de Seingalt)
                        Father Balbi, Casanova’s travelling companion
                        Theater du Soleil actors (Lison Tailleur, Jean Pastisse, Geoffroy du Limon, Francette Fine)
                        Robert-Francois Damiens, the assassim
                        Jean-Pierre Duroy, the Grand Intendant, his wife the Pastry Chef Annie
                        Cook and Helper
                        ghost of Marguerite Isabeau

                        The 1757 originated time-travellers

                        Mirabelle the oldest and bossiest, Adeline the youngest (thief of the first ferret) and Fanetta, the French maids
                        Igor Popinkin, Boris and Ivan the Russian con-artists and saboteurs hidden with the Russian Ballet troupe visiting Versailles
                        Huhu the parrot
                        The Whale ghost, the ghost ship (died/sunk around 1600s) and time-travelling fin whales of 2020s
                        Belen, the whale
                        Santa Rosa, the galleon
                        the ghost obese gardener-captain Peter Pugh Petit Pois, from Peasland

                        The Spanish farm and fat mermaid dolphins

                        Lisa, Jack
                        Pierre and Etienne
                        The Italian cruise ship
                        pink Amazonian dolphins

                        #3187

                        “If you have any spare room in that basket, mademoiselle, can I come too?” asked Mirabelle, the oldest maid. “I feel like I’m stuck in the wrong time zone here, in this life of servitude. I am sure I was destined for much more interesting things than this.”
                        “Well” said Sadie, “It would appear that there is plenty of room in this basket, because the dragglers are going with Sanso and the, er, singing frogs. Who else wants to go in the balloon?”
                        “Would it be alright if Igor came?” asked Mirabelle, blushing.
                        “You tart, Mirabelle, if Igor’s going then so am I! And Fanella.” Adeline piped up. “I am so done with all this religious stuff and praying to Mother Mary. Take me to the future!”
                        “If Mirabelle’s taking Igor, then I want Boris to come too” said Fanella.
                        Mirabelle and Adeline looked at Fanella in astonishment. “You kept that quiet, you tart!” the cried in unison.
                        “I think Ivan should come too” added Adeline.
                        Sadie raised an eyebrow. “Well then” she said. “ I hope one of you knows how to fly this balloon, because I’m going with Sanso. Bon Voyage!” And with that, she left them to it and rejoined the others.

                        #3140

                        The oldest maid, Mirabelle, quickly stuffed the other toy ferret into the queens cork bum basket that she was carrying. Furtively she glanced around to make sure nobody had seen her. Triumph! The Russians would be pleased with her success. She was looking forward to the rendezvous in the Folly at midnight.

                        #1220
                        EricEric
                        Keymaster

                          Becky was moaning: “Frankly, do you have to send me to the coldest places every winter when I have the flu Al, its a pattern!”

                          Al realized that with the Russian adventure, Becky was right. “Wow,” he thought “the dramatic effect of being present that illness gave to Becky. She could even remember a year back from now!”

                          “Well,” he said “I think the girls will soon find a timely escape… And the good news is that… I don’t think there is any place colder that we know of for the time being…”

                          Becky surely was in poor condition, but her creativity still showed no boundaries “Maybe I can create super rapid global warming that reveals the hidden ruins of civilizations beneath the ice”

                          Given the cold outside, Al’s mind was appreciative of the sudden overheat such a brazen thought produced in his mind…

                          #620
                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            The Story Vincentius told to Arona

                            I was seven when my father died. He leapt into a swollen river to help a neighbor who was drowning. He saved the neighbor but could not save himself. Everyone called him a hero but my mother called him a stupid fool. She was filled with sadness for her loss, and anger that he would leave her in such a way. I remember she got a pair of big scissors from the sewing box and cut off her long hair. For weeks after that I would see her move her hand to brush her long hair away and suddenly realise it was no longer there and I would see her go still. Then her body would slump and she would stand there looking lost and not knowing what to do. One day her heart just stopped beating. They said she died of grief but I think it was that life had become an empty hole that just got deeper and darker. I don’t think that is the same as grief, but maybe it is. My three older sisters and I cried and cried when my father died, but I never once saw her cry.

                            When my mother died we had to cry in secret, because my Grandmother Naja moved in to take care of us. She didn’t believe in crying. There were many things she didn’t believe in. Grandmother Naja ate like a bird, looked like a piece of old leather and moved like a skittery rabbit.

                            Vincentius she would say to me, peering at me shortsightedly, you need to get bigger. Your parents are dead and you are now the man of the house. Every day she would poke me in the ribs and say Vincentius, you need to get bigger”. Every time she poked me I remembered all over again that I was not good enough and that my parents were dead.

                            One day she sent Taffy, the second oldest sister out to the garden to get a cabbage. But there were no cabbages left the garden. Well! said Grandmother Naja, I can’t cook cabbage broth without any cabbage. So she gave Taffy a coin and sent my sisters into the Village to buy a cabbage from the market.

                            I begged to go too.

                            You are too small and you are too slow! said my sisters

                            Eventually though they gave in to my pleading.

                            I have often wondered if I knew the events that day would bring, if I would have begged so hard to go, mused Vincentius

                            to be continued …

                            #495

                            Narani was waiting patiently for her sisters to unfold their own desire. She had multiplexed their personal threads of desire for a new game to generate the magnetic field that was attracting the machinery of the 2 lEGGed creatures. She knew them well, as the oldest sister of her tribe, she was linked to all her “sisters”. And actually there were none of them that wouldn’t be a relative of sort. She had managed to maintain her own children on the island.

                            Her cousin Ararog had also managed her own nest in England. She was connected to her through a strange egg, white with threads of pistachio in it. She could speak from very long distance with that object, that was merely helping her to focus her energy in the most probable direction. She was doing well and there had been lots of movements for her too.

                            :fleuron:

                            :mummy: smelled some chocolate cake in the distance… it seemed delicious and she was so hungry… :mummy: needed chocolate

                            :fleuron:

                            Aldous Mc Gaughran farted contentedly, causing some disgusted glances from the other customers, he smurggled puffing on his cigar. He was feeling aroused by that beautiful blond chick dancing on the stage of the saloon and was making his decision about their family.

                            He :yahoo_pig: would have her.

                            #494
                            AvatarJib
                            Participant

                              The air was filled with anticipation. Phurt was feeling it for a few days and it was not the usual intuition stuff. It wasn’t conveyed by the silky threads or her web or of the other webs of the others like her… it was in the air, and it was very exciting.

                              All her sisters were excited also and it was mainly translating by a deep hunger. It was associated with the hunt. It felt like a new thrilling game of sort.

                              But now, all they could do was being patient ‘til the arrival of the new preys. It’s been so many seasons since the last ones came to their island.

                              :recycle: :weather-clear: :weather-few-clouds: :weather-overcast: :weather-showers: :weather-snow: :weather-storm: :recycle:

                              There was still a vibration in the air she couldn’t dissassociate from the main one, the exciting one. The main one was so intense that she even was doubting of the slight uncomfort of this weird one. She wanted to talk with the Elder Narani. She was the most sensitive of her kind, and the oldest also. She would surely know about this vibration.

                              But first she had to found a gift :yahoo_cow: and wrap it with the finest silk she could create. She began slowly to move from her centered position on her web and a subtle mechanism in her bodyconsciousness began the process of generating that finery and the poison that wouldn’t kill her gift.

                              #475

                              It had been real hard since Momma and Poppa weren’t around no more. Twilight was four when they got shot dead, and she could hardly remember their faces now. Sometimes she had memories come to mind, this real pretty woman, brushing her hair at night. One hundred strokes, she would say, make your hair real pretty. It made her feel sad because she wished it were true.

                              Her brother Jo, he was only ten when they got killed. He was the one found them. They’d been shot. Jo, he took it real hard. Sometimes he’d get this far away and sad look and Twilight knew he was remembering. She wanted to hug him, but he’d be all shut off.

                              Anyways it was real hard to keep the ranch going after that. Her brother Elroy, he was the oldest. He was fifteen when Momma and Poppa died. So he took on being the man of the house. Sometimes he would try and boss Jo and her round, and Twilight would give him a real hard time. She was just jesting though, she knew he was just doing his best to keep the El Disperso Ranch running and she was real proud of him.

                              It was real hard though. Winter had been hard. They all were fearing they might have to sell the blue bull just to keep the wolves from the door next winter. Elroy, he was right pig headed though about that bull. Jo would say to Elroy “we have to sell that bull, Elroy and Elroy would get mad and say “no ways we selling that bull Jo”. One day they nearly came to blows over that bull.

                              It was the only time Twilight seen Elroy get real mad with Jo. They were real close those two. They were all close really. They had to keep together when Momma and Poppa died. Uncle Bart turned up at the news of their folks dying, wanted to take the ranch, but Elroy , well he got Poppa’s rifle and chased Uncle Bart away. Elroy said he would have shot Uncle Bart had he tried any harder to take the ranch. Twilight would look in his eyes when he told the story and she knew he weren’t jesting. A few others tried to interfere also. Somehow they all stayed together and kept the ranch.

                              Elroy won that blue bull. It was real rare and very fine and people would pay plenty for a bull like that bull. Elroy said he won it anyhow. He turned up with it one day, and he was real quiet. Twilight saw him whispering to Jo, and Jo looked real concerned. She thought it best not to ask too many questions and so she kept what she seen to herself. But she couldn’t help but be wondering.

                              Twilight wanted to help take the load off her brothers so she got herself a job dancing in the saloon in town. She liked to call it performing though. Sounded more high class. She watched the other dancers till she taught herself to do it. She would hide in the saloon and watch them. That was one good thing about not having a Momma and a Poppa. She could pretty well do what she wanted. She liked dancing and she knew she were real good at it and pretty soon she was the dancer everyone wanted to see. She’d rather have a Momma and Poppa though, truth be told.

                              One of the other girls, Anna, she was real pretty too, got jealous and tried to get Twilight kicked out, said she was too young to be dancing . Anyhow Anna had a soft spot for Jo and so he soon sweet talked her round. Jo and Elroy were real good looking boys, and plenty of girls liked them so Twilight was pretty lucky to have them look out for her. ( Elroy said she should wear a blond wig for her dancing, like a disguise, and Twilight thought this was real funny. But she wore it anyway.) Anna got pregnant, and she said Jo was the daddy, but everyone in town knew she slept with plenty of fellows, and Jo weren’t having a bar of it. Anna got real fat with the baby and had to stop dancing and now she lived with some old fellow who was always drunk and would eye up Twilight when she was dancing. Sometimes Twilight would tease Jo about the baby and call him “daddio” and he would get real mad with her. But could be his, that’s the truth. Poor little baby but she were glad Jo weren’t stuck with that Anna.

                              Twilight knew the men looked at her. She knew what they were thinking and she didn’t mind. She weren’t no fool though. She had plans. She was going to be somebody, not laid up with some damn sprog like that Anna. Some of the money she earned she’d give to Elroy, some of it she put in a tin can she kept hidden.

                              Last night some fellow from out of town came in. A sheriff. She heard the girls whispering and giggling about him. Sheriff Ted Marshall was his name. He was real fine looking and all the girls were in a flutter hoping he would look at them. Twilight wondered what he was doing in town. She hoped it were nothing to do with that bull of Elroys.

                              #410

                              On Mount Elok’ram, the old abbot Hrih Chokyam Lin’potshee was gardening.

                              Despite his old age, and his being at the head of the Monastery, Hrih Chokyam was always doing his hour of gardening with great application and talent, as was asked to everyone, from the youngest to the oldest monks studying here.
                              The Monastery was a place of healing and teaching, dedicated to Margilonia, the Elder Goddess thought to have created the Earths. As a matter of fact, gardening was the simplest —yet most effective— way to fully appreciate the grandness and the interconnectedness of the whole of creation.

                              Hrih Chokyam remembered when he was a little child in the vast fertile plateaus in the Eastern part of Dam Adbor, bordering the high mountains. He had always loved the mountains, better than the plains, or the towns where the wars and plots were fomented endlessly. So he was wandering many times in the mountains, to collect herbs and also just for the fun and exhilaration of climbing higher and higher, and seeing the world as a small thing that could be placed into his hands.
                              His parents had wanted him to become a farmer, but some wealthy neighbours had thought he was showing signs of being able to do much better, and even proposed to have him pursue a career in the administration of Dam Adbor’s capital.
                              Young Hrih had considered the proposition for some time, and one day, went deep into the mountains to make his decision.
                              There he’d got this powerful connection with an enveloping warm manifestation of Margilonia, who prompted him to go higher than anyone had ever been on the top of the mountains, were a natural point of great potential magical energy was. Here, she had conveyed to him, he would have a monastery built, a perfectly clear channel for this yet untaped magical energy.

                              Ninety nine years ago that was.
                              Hrih had been higher than any human had ever been, in the search of this point, knowing he would feel it resonate with him. The mountains, he had learned were not as empty as humans had thought, and there were many other kinds of sentient beings living here, far from the wars below.
                              Interestingly, assisted by these magical sentient creatures and Margilonia’s energies, building the structure had been easy. He had never thought harnessing magic would be that easy, perhaps just because the traveling magicians coming at times in the village to do some healing or just funfair exhibitions were making that very difficult, and requiring lots of training.

                              The truth was, magic was everywhere, only people had become blind to it, or just lazy to use it. But old Hrih, even if his eyes were not as sharp as they used to be, could see it clear as day. Magic was in everything. Especially in one’s own very existence.
                              That was the first of the things people coming to learn in the monastery had to understand. Deceptively simple, yet the most difficult lesson for many of them. He had to admit, he had struggled quite a bit with it too, during the endless wandering into the vast mountains. But there had always been a root to eat, or some fresh mushrooms or eggs apparently left here just for him… He laughed now, thinking of it.

                              Hrih’s life had been so fulfilling. He knew he was weak now, and would not see the springing season, and he was thinking he had to choose someone to take care of the monastery. Few people went to stay here, for as they had learned and applied what was to learn, their own passion was coming back to them, and they would not need to stay any longer.

                              But a few days ago, a young one had come, announced to old Hrih by a singing rosy finch.
                              As usual, all was provided when things were ready for it.
                              Hrih had no doubt that the hesitant young man would be the next one to hold the title of Lin’potshee, or “Precious Elder”.

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