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  • #6305
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      The Hair’s and Leedham’s of Netherseal

       

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

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

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

       

      1686 marriage Nicholas Leedham

       

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

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

      Isaac Hair death 1709

       

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

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

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

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

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

      The 1670 inventory of Nicholas Leedham:

      1670 will Nicholas Leedham

       

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

      via Mark Knight:

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

      Dorothy daughter of Dorothy Leedham was buried 23 December 1672:

      Dorothy

       

       

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

      1726 will of William Leedham:

      1726 will William Leedham

       

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

      The original Parish register baptism of Hannah Hair:

      Hannah Hair 1

       

      The HO register copy incorrectly copied:

      Hannah Hair 2

      #6301
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        The Warrens of Stapenhill

         

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

        Stapenhill village by John Harden:

        Stapenhill

         

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

        Samuel Warren and Catherine Holland marriage licence 1795:

        Samuel Warren Catherine Holland

         

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

        Stapenhill St Peter:

        Stapenhill St Peter

         

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

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

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

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

        William Warren and Elizabeth Hatterton marriage licence 1703:

        William Warren 1702

         

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

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

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

        A page from the 1722 will of Edward Hatterton:

        Edward Hatterton 1722

         

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

         

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

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

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

        The Hearth Tax:

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

         

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

        #6300
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Looking for Carringtons

           

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

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

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

          not baptised

           

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

           

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

          A Page from the will of William Carrington 1834:

          1834 Will Carrington will

           

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          1721 William Carenton

           

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

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

           

           

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

          #6293
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Lincolnshire Families

             

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

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

            St Wulframs

             

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            Cave Pindar

             

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            Gunby St Nicholas

            #6284
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              To Australia

              Grettons

              Charles Herbert Gretton 1876-1954

              Charles Gretton, my great grandmothers youngest brother, arrived in Sydney Australia on 12 February 1912, having set sail on 5 January 1912 from London. His occupation on the passenger list was stockman, and he was traveling alone.  Later that year, in October, his wife and two sons sailed out to join him.

              Gretton 1912 passenger

               

              Charles was born in Swadlincote.  He married Mary Anne Illsley, a local girl from nearby Church Gresley, in 1898. Their first son, Leslie Charles Bloemfontein Gretton, was born in 1900 in Church Gresley, and their second son, George Herbert Gretton, was born in 1910 in Swadlincote.  In 1901 Charles was a colliery worker, and on the 1911 census, his occupation was a sanitary ware packer.

              Charles and Mary Anne had two more sons, both born in Footscray:  Frank Orgill Gretton in 1914, and Arthur Ernest Gretton in 1920.

              On the Australian 1914 electoral rolls, Charles and Mary Ann were living at 72 Moreland Street, Footscray, and in 1919 at 134 Cowper Street, Footscray, and Charles was a labourer.  In 1924, Charles was a sub foreman, living at 3, Ryan Street E, Footscray, Australia.  On a later electoral register, Charles was a foreman.  Footscray is a suburb of Melbourne, and developed into an industrial zone in the second half of the nineteenth century.

              Charles died in Victoria in 1954 at the age of 77. His wife Mary Ann died in 1958.

              Gretton obit 1954

               

              Charles and Mary Ann Gretton:

              Charles and Mary Ann Gretton

               

              Leslie Charles Bloemfontein Gretton 1900-1955

              Leslie was an electrician.   He married Ethel Christine Halliday, born in 1900 in Footscray, in 1927.  They had four children: Tom, Claire, Nancy and Frank. By 1943 they were living in Yallourn.  Yallourn, Victoria was a company town in Victoria, Australia built between the 1920s and 1950s to house employees of the State Electricity Commission of Victoria, who operated the nearby Yallourn Power Station complex. However, expansion of the adjacent open-cut brown coal mine led to the closure and removal of the town in the 1980s.

              On the 1954 electoral registers, daughter Claire Elizabeth Gretton, occupation teacher, was living at the same address as Leslie and Ethel.

              Leslie died in Yallourn in 1955, and Ethel nine years later in 1964, also in Yallourn.

               

              George Herbert Gretton 1910-1970

              George married Florence May Hall in 1934 in Victoria, Australia.  In 1942 George was listed on the electoral roll as a grocer, likewise in 1949. In 1963 his occupation was a process worker, and in 1968 in Flinders, a horticultural advisor.

              George died in Lang Lang, not far from Melbourne, in 1970.

               

              Frank Orgill Gretton 1914-

              Arthur Ernest Gretton 1920-

               

              Orgills

              John Orgill 1835-1911

              John Orgill was Charles Herbert Gretton’s uncle.  He emigrated to Australia in 1865, and married Elizabeth Mary Gladstone 1845-1926 in Victoria in 1870. Their first child was born in December that year, in Dandenong. They had seven children, and their three sons all have the middle name Gladstone.

              John Orgill was a councillor for the Shire of Dandenong in 1873, and between 1876 and 1879.

              John Orgill:

              John Orgill

               

              John Orgill obituary in the South Bourke and Mornington Journal, 21 December 1911:

              John Orgill obit

               

               

              John’s wife Elizabeth Orgill, a teacher and a “a public spirited lady” according to newspaper articles, opened a hydropathic hospital in Dandenong called Gladstone House.

              Elizabeth Gladstone Orgill:

              Elizabeth Gladstone Orgill

               

              On the Old Dandenong website:

              Gladstone House hydropathic hospital on the corner of Langhorne and Foster streets (153 Foster Street) Dandenong opened in 1896, working on the theory of water therapy, no medicine or operations. Her husband passed away in 1911 at 77, around similar time Dr Barclay Thompson obtained control of the practice. Mrs Orgill remaining on in some capacity.

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

              Around 1912 Dr A. E. Taylor took over the location from Dr. Barclay Thompson. Mrs Orgill was still working here but no longer controlled the practice, having given it up to Barclay. Taylor served as medical officer for the Shire for before his death in 1939. After Taylor’s death Dr. T. C. Reeves bought his practice in 1939, later that year being appointed medical officer,

              Gladstone Road in Dandenong is named after her family, who owned and occupied a farming paddock in the area on former Police Paddock ground, the Police reserve having earlier been reduced back to Stud Road.

              Hydropathy (now known as Hydrotherapy) and also called water cure, is a part of medicine and alternative medicine, in particular of naturopathy, occupational therapy and physiotherapy, that involves the use of water for pain relief and treatment.

              Gladstone House, Dandenong:

              Gladstone House

               

               

              John’s brother Robert Orgill 1830-1915 also emigrated to Australia. I met (online) his great great grand daughter Lidya Orgill via the Old Dandenong facebook group.

              John’s other brother Thomas Orgill 1833-1908 also emigrated to the same part of Australia.

              Thomas Orgill:

              Thomas Orgill

               

              One of Thomas Orgills sons was George Albert Orgill 1880-1949:

              George Albert Orgill

               

              A letter was published in The South Bourke & Mornington Journal (Richmond, Victoria, Australia) on 17 Jun 1915, to Tom Orgill, Emerald Hill (South Melbourne) from hospital by his brother George Albert Orgill (4th Pioneers) describing landing of Covering Party prior to dawn invasion of Gallipoli:

              George Albert Orgill letter

               

              Another brother Henry Orgill 1837-1916 was born in Measham and died in Dandenong, Australia. Henry was a bricklayer living in Measham on the 1861 census. Also living with his widowed mother Elizabeth at that address was his sister Sarah and her husband Richard Gretton, the baker (my great great grandparents). In October of that year he sailed to Melbourne.  His occupation was bricklayer on his death records in 1916.

              Two of Henry’s sons, Arthur Garfield Orgill born 1888 and Ernest Alfred Orgill born 1880 were killed in action in 1917 and buried in Nord-Pas-de-Calais, France. Another son, Frederick Stanley Orgill, died in 1897 at the age of seven.

              A fifth brother, William Orgill 1842-   sailed from Liverpool to Melbourne in 1861, at 19 years of age. Four years later in 1865 he sailed from Victoria, Australia to New Zealand.

               

              I assumed I had found all of the Orgill brothers who went to Australia, and resumed research on the Orgills in Measham, in England. A search in the British Newspaper Archives for Orgills in Measham revealed yet another Orgill brother who had gone to Australia.

              Matthew Orgill 1828-1907 went to South Africa and to Australia, but returned to Measham.

              The Orgill brothers had two sisters. One was my great great great grandmother Sarah, and the other was Hannah.  Hannah married Francis Hart in Measham. One of her sons, John Orgill Hart 1862-1909, was born in Measham.  On the 1881 census he was a 19 year old carpenters apprentice.  Two years later in 1883 he was listed as a joiner on the passenger list of the ship Illawarra, bound for Australia.   His occupation at the time of his death in Dandenong in 1909 was contractor.

              An additional coincidental note about Dandenong: my step daughter Emily’s Australian partner is from Dandenong.

               

               

              Housleys

              Charles Housley 1823-1856

              Charles Housley emigrated to Australia in 1851, the same year that his brother George emigrated to USA.  Charles is mentioned in the Narrative on the Letters by Barbara Housley, and appears in the Housley Letters chapters.

               

              Rushbys

              George “Mike” Rushby 1933-

              Mike moved to Australia from South Africa. His story is a separate chapter.

              #6283
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Purdy Cousins

                 

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

                 

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

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

                Catherine and Frieda Little

                 

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

                Benjamin and Elizabeth Little

                 

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

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

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

                Llewelyn Prince

                 

                Richard Purdy 1877-1940

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

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

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

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

                Richard Baden Purdy

                 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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                  The Housley Letters
                  THE NEIGHBORHOOD

                   

                  From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

                  In July 1872, Joseph wrote to George who had been gone for 21 years: “You would not know Heanor now. It has got such a large place. They have got a town hall built where Charles’ stone yard was.”

                  Then Joseph took George on a tour from Smalley to Heanor pointing out all the changes:

                  Smalley Map

                  Smalley Farms

                   

                  “Now we commence at Firby Brook. There is no public house there. It is turned into a market gardener’s place. Morley smithy stands as it did. You would know Chris Shepperd that used to keep the farm opposite. He is dead and the farm is got into other hands.”  (In 1851, Chris Shepherd, age 39, and his widowed mother, Mary, had a farm of 114 acres. Charles Carrington, age 14, worked for them as a “cow boy.” In 1851 Hollingsworths also lived at Morely smithy.) “The Rose and Crown stands and Antony Kerry keeps that yet.”  (In 1851, the census listed Kerry as a mason, builder, victicular, and farmer. He lived with his wife and four sons and numerous servants.) “They have pulled down Samuel Kerry’s farm house down and built him one in another place. Now we come to the Bell that was but they have pulled the old one down and made Isaac Potters House into the new Bell.” (In 1851, The Bell was run by Ann Weston, a widow.)

                  Smalley Roundhouse:

                  Smalley Roundhouse

                   

                  “The old Round House is standing yet but they have took the machine away. The Public House at the top end is kept by Mrs. Turton. I don’t know who she was before she married. Now we get to old Tom Oldknow. The old house is pulled down and a new one is put up but it is gone out of the family altogether. Now Jack is living at Stanley. He married Ann that used to live at Barbers at Smalley. That finishes Smalley. Now for Taghill. The old Jolly Collier is standing yet and a man of the name of Remmington keeps the new one opposite. Jack Foulkes son Jack used to keep that but has left just lately. There is the Nottingham House, Nags Head, Cross Keys and then the Red Lion but houses built on both sides all the way down Taghill. Then we get to the town hall that is built on the ground that Charles’ Stone Yard used to be. There is Joseph Watson’s shop standing yet in the old place. The King of Prussia, the White Lion and Hanks that is the Public House. You see there are more than there used to be. The Magistrate sits at the Town Hall and tries cases there every fortnight.”

                  .

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                    The Housley Letters

                    The Carringtons

                    Carrington Farm, Smalley:

                    Carrington Farm

                     

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

                     

                    From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters:

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

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

                    RICHARD

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                     

                    THOMAS

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

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

                     

                    JOHN

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

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

                    FRANK (see above)

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

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

                    William and Mary Carrington:

                    William Carrington

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                      The Housley Letters 

                      From Barbara Housley’s Narrative on the Letters.

                       

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

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

                      William and Ellen Marriage

                       

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

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

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

                       

                      ELLEN HOUSLEY 1795-1872

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

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

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

                       

                      Mary’s children:

                      MARY ANN HOUSLEY  1808-1878

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

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

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

                       

                      WILLIAM HOUSLEY JR. 1812-1890

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

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

                       

                      Ellen’s children:

                      JOHN HOUSLEY  1815-1893

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

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

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

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

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

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

                      John Housley

                       

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

                       

                      SAMUEL HOUSLEY 1816-

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

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

                      Housley Deaths

                       

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

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

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

                       

                      EDWARD HOUSLEY 1819-1843

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

                       

                      ANNE HOUSLEY 1821-1856

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

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

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

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

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

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

                      The Carrington Farm:

                      Carringtons Farm

                       

                      CHARLES HOUSLEY 1823-1855

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

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

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

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

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

                       

                      GEORGE HOUSLEY 1824-1877

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                       

                      ROBERT HOUSLEY 1832-1851

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

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

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

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

                       

                      EMMA HOUSLEY 1836-1871

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

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

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

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

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

                      Emma Housley and Edwin Welch Harvey wedding, 1858:

                      Emma Housley wedding

                       

                      JOSEPH HOUSLEY 1838-1893

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                      Joseph Housley and the Kiddsley cottages:

                      Joseph Housley

                      #6268
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        From Tanganyika with Love

                        continued part 9

                        With thanks to Mike Rushby.

                        Lyamungu 3rd January 1945

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

                        Lyamungu 14 May 1945

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

                        Lyamungu 19th September 1945

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

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

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

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

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

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

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

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

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

                        Jacksdale England 24th June 1946

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

                        Jacksdale England 28th August 1946

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

                        Jacksdale England 20th September 1946

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

                        Dar es Salaam 22nd October 1946

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

                        Mbeya 1st November 1946

                        Dearest Family.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                        Eleanor.

                        #6259
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          George “Mike” Rushby

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                          Mike Rushby

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

                          Rushby Family

                          #6247
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Warren Brothers Boiler Makers

                            Samuel Warren, my great grandfather, and husband of Florence Nightingale Gretton, worked with the family company of boiler makers in Newhall in his early years.  He developed an interest in motor cars, and left the family business to start up on his own. By all accounts, he made some bad decisions and borrowed a substantial amount of money from his sister. It was because of this disastrous state of affairs that the impoverished family moved from Swadlincote/Newhall to Stourbridge.

                            1914:  Tram no 10 on Union Road going towards High Street Newhall. On the left Henry Harvey Engineer, on the right Warren Bros Boiler Manufacturers & Engineers:

                            Warren Bros Newhall

                             

                            I found a newspaper article in the Derbyshire Advertiser and Journal dated the 2nd October 1915 about a Samuel Warren of Warren Brothers Boilermakers, but it was about my great grandfathers uncle, also called Samuel.

                            DEATH OF MR. SAMUEL WARREN, OF NEWHALL. Samuel Warren, of Rose Villa, Newhall, passed away on Saturday evening at the age of 85.. Of somewhat retiring disposition, he took little or no active part in public affairs, but for many years was trustee of the loyal British Oak Lodge of the M.U. of Oddfellows, and in many other ways served His community when opportunity permitted. He was member of the firm of Warren Bros., of the Boiler Works, Newhall. This thriving business was established by the late Mr. Benjamin Bridge, over 60 years ago, and on his death it was taken over by his four nephews. Mr. William Warren died several years ago, and with the demise Mr. Samuel Warren, two brothers remain, Messrs. Henry and Benjamin Warren. He leaves widow, six daughters, and three sons to mourn his loss. 

                            Samuel Warren

                             

                            This was the first I’d heard of Benjamin Bridge.  William Warren mentioned in the article as having died previously was Samuel’s father, my great great grandfather. William’s brother Henry was the father of Ben Warren, the footballer.

                            But who was Benjamin Bridge?

                            Samuel’s father was William Warren 1835-1881. He had a brother called Samuel, mentioned above, and William’s father was also named Samuel.  Samuel Warren 1800-1882 married Elizabeth Bridge 1813-1872. Benjamin Bridge 1811-1898 was Elizabeth’s brother.

                            Burton Chronicle 28 July 1898:

                            Benjamin Bridge

                            Benjamin and his wife Jane had no children. According to the obituary in the newspaper, the couple were fondly remembered for their annual tea’s for the widows of the town. Benjamin Bridge’s house was known as “the preachers house”. He was superintendent of Newhall Sunday School and member of Swadlincote’s board of health. And apparently very fond of a tall white hat!

                            On the 1881 census, Benjamin Bridge and his wife live near to the Warren family in Newhall.  The Warren’s live in the “boiler yard” and the family living in between the Bridge’s and the Warren’s include an apprentice boiler maker, so we can assume these were houses incorporated in the boiler works property. Benjamin is a 72 year old retired boiler maker.  Elizabeth Warren is a widow (William died in 1881), two of her sons are boiler makers, and Samuel, my great grandfather, is on the next page of the census, at seven years old.

                            Bridge Warren Census 1881

                             

                            Warren Brothers made boilers for the Burton breweries, including Bass, Ratcliff and Gretton.

                            This receipt from Warrens Boiler yard for a new boiler in 1885 was purchased off Ebay by Colin Smith. He gave it to one of the grandsons of Robert Adolphus Warren, to keep in the Warren family. It is in his safe at home, and he promised Colin that it will stay in the family forever.

                            Warren Bros Receipt

                            #6243
                            TracyTracy
                            Participant

                              William Housley’s Will and the Court Case

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

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

                              One of the pages of William Housley’s will:

                              William Housleys Will

                               

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

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

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

                              There were hard feelings between Mary Ann and Ellen and her children. Anne wrote: “If you remember we were not very friendly when you left. They never came and nothing was too bad for Mary Ann to say of Mother and me, but when Robert died Mother sent for her to the funeral but she did not think well to come so we took no more notice. She would not allow her children to come either.”
                              Mary Ann was still living in May 1872. Joseph implied that she and her brother, Will “intend making a bit of bother about the settlement of the bit of property” left by their mother. The 1871 census listed Mary Ann’s occupation as “income from houses.”

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

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

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

                              Anne intended that one third of the inheritance coming to her from her father and her grandfather, William Carrington, be divided between her four nieces: Sam’s three daughters and John’s daughter Elizabeth.
                              In the same letter (December 15, 1872), Joseph wrote:
                              “I think we have now found all out now that is concerned in the matter for there was only Sam that we did not know his whereabouts but I was informed a week ago that he is dead–died about three years ago in Birmingham Union. Poor Sam. He ought to have come to a better end than that”

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

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

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

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

                              In the Adelaide Observer 28 Aug 1875

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

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

                              Victoria Diggings, Australie

                               

                              The court case:

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

                              From the Narrative on the Letters:

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

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

                              In September 1872 Joseph wrote; “My wife is anxious to come. I hope it will suit her health for she is not over strong.” Elsewhere Joseph wrote that Harriet was “middling sometimes. She is subject to sick headaches. It knocks her up completely when they come on.” In December 1872 Joseph wrote, “Now dear brother about us coming to America you know we shall have to wait until this affair is settled and if it is not settled and thrown into Chancery I’m afraid we shall have to stay in England for I shall never be able to save money enough to bring me out and my family but I hope of better things.”
                              On July 19, 1875 Abraham Flint (the solicitor) wrote: “Joseph Housley has removed from Smalley and is working on some new foundry buildings at Little Chester near Derby. He lives at a village called Little Eaton near Derby. If you address your letter to him as Joseph Housley, carpenter, Little Eaton near Derby that will no doubt find him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                              1874 in chancery:

                              Housley Estate Sale

                              #6223
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Kate Purdy and the DH Lawrence Connection

                                Catherine (Kate) Purdy 1874-1950  was my grandfather George Marshall’s aunt, and the mother of George Rushby who went to Africa.  The photo is one of our family photos, and we knew that the woman at the back third from the right was an aunt of my grandfather’s. We didn’t know that it was Kate until we saw other photos of her in Mike’s collection.

                                DH Lawrence was born in Eastwood at roughly the same time as my great grandmother Mary Ann Gilman Purdy. Apparently his books are based on actual people living in the area at the time, so I read as many of his books as I could find, to help paint the picture of the time and place.  I also found out via an Eastwood facebook group, that he was not well liked there, and still isn’t. They say he was a wife beater, a groper and was cruel to animals, and they did not want a statue of him in their town!

                                Kate Rushby third from right back row:

                                Kate Rushby

                                Kate Rushby’s story as told by her grandson Mike:

                                George’s daughter Catherine (Kate) Purdy grew up in Eastwood and was living at Walnut Tree Lane when, at the age of 21, and on the 24 Sep 1894, she married John Henry Payling Rushby who was a policeman in the Grimsby Police. John Henry left the Police and together they bought a public house “The Three Tuns Inn” at Beggarlee. The establishment was frequented by amongst others, the writer D.H.Lawrence who wrote much of his book “Sons and Lovers” in the Inn. In his book he calls the Inn “The Moon and Stars” and mentions Kate. though not by name.

                                John Henry Rushby had two children, Charlotte and George Gilman Rushby. But a year after the birth of George on 28 Feb 1900, John Henry died at the age of thirty on 13 Sep 1901. He liked to show off his strength to his friends by lifting above his head an oak barrel full of beer. This would have weighed almost 200 kilograms. “He bust his gut” Kate said. He died of peritonitis following a hernia.

                                Following the death of John Henry, Kate managed the Three Tuns Inn on her own. But a regular visitor to the Inn was Frank Freer who was a singer and used to entertain the patrons with his fine baritone voice and by playing the cornet. He and Kate got married, but he turned out to be a drunk who beat his wife and was cruel to her son. They separated and he died from alcoholism, though he may also have been struck on the head with a beer bottle by a person unknown. She then married Mr Gregory Simpson who fathered a daughter Catherine, and then died from gas injuries he suffered on the battlefield in the first world war.

                                Despite her lack of men able to stay the course, Catherine became a very successful business woman. She ran the Three Tuns Inn and later moved to Jacksdale where she owned ”ThePortland Arms Hotel”. She travelled extensively to Europe in times of peace, to Africa several times, and around England frequently. She settled in Selston Lane Jacksdale in a large house bracketed by the homes of her daughters Lottie and Cath. She was a strong and tenacious woman who became the surrogate mother of her grandchildren Ann and George when they were separated from their parents by the second world war.

                                Mike Rushby’s photo of Kate:

                                Kate Purdy Rushby

                                 

                                 

                                #6222
                                TracyTracy
                                Participant

                                  George Gilman Rushby: The Cousin Who Went To Africa

                                  The portrait of the woman has “mother of Catherine Housley, Smalley” written on the back, and one of the family photographs has “Francis Purdy” written on the back. My first internet search was “Catherine Housley Smalley Francis Purdy”. Easily found was the family tree of George (Mike) Rushby, on one of the genealogy websites. It seemed that it must be our family, but the African lion hunter seemed unlikely until my mother recalled her father had said that he had a cousin who went to Africa. I also noticed that the lion hunter’s middle name was Gilman ~ the name that Catherine Housley’s daughter ~ my great grandmother, Mary Ann Gilman Purdy ~ adopted, from her aunt and uncle who brought her up.

                                  I tried to contact George (Mike) Rushby via the ancestry website, but got no reply. I searched for his name on Facebook and found a photo of a wildfire in a place called Wardell, in Australia, and he was credited with taking the photograph. A comment on the photo, which was a few years old, got no response, so I found a Wardell Community group on Facebook, and joined it. A very small place, population some 700 or so, and I had an immediate response on the group to my question. They knew Mike, exchanged messages, and we were able to start emailing. I was in the chair at the dentist having an exceptionally long canine root canal at the time that I got the message with his email address, and at that moment the song Down in Africa started playing.

                                  Mike said it was clever of me to track him down which amused me, coming from the son of an elephant and lion hunter.  He didn’t know why his father’s middle name was Gilman, and was not aware that Catherine Housley’s sister married a Gilman.

                                  Mike Rushby kindly gave me permission to include his family history research in my book.  This is the story of my grandfather George Marshall’s cousin.  A detailed account of George Gilman Rushby’s years in Africa can be found in another chapter called From Tanganyika With Love; the letters Eleanor wrote to her family.

                                  George Gilman Rushby:

                                  George Gilman Rushby

                                   

                                  The story of George Gilman Rushby 1900-1969, as told by his son Mike:

                                  George Gilman Rushby:
                                  Elephant hunter,poacher, prospector, farmer, forestry officer, game ranger, husband to Eleanor, and father of 6 children who now live around the world.

                                  George Gilman Rushby was born in Nottingham on 28 Feb 1900 the son of Catherine Purdy and John Henry Payling Rushby. But John Henry died when his son was only one and a half years old, and George shunned his drunken bullying stepfather Frank Freer and was brought up by Gypsies who taught him how to fight and took him on regular poaching trips. His love of adventure and his ability to hunt were nurtured at an early stage of his life.
                                  The family moved to Eastwood, where his mother Catherine owned and managed The Three Tuns Inn, but when his stepfather died in mysterious circumstances, his mother married a wealthy bookmaker named Gregory Simpson. He could afford to send George to Worksop College and to Rugby School. This was excellent schooling for George, but the boarding school environment, and the lack of a stable home life, contributed to his desire to go out in the world and do his own thing. When he finished school his first job was as a trainee electrician with Oaks & Co at Pye Bridge. He also worked part time as a motor cycle mechanic and as a professional boxer to raise the money for a voyage to South Africa.

                                  In May 1920 George arrived in Durban destitute and, like many others, living on the beach and dependant upon the Salvation Army for a daily meal. However he soon got work as an electrical mechanic, and after a couple of months had earned enough money to make the next move North. He went to Lourenco Marques where he was appointed shift engineer for the town’s power station. However he was still restless and left the comfort of Lourenco Marques for Beira in August 1921.

                                  Beira was the start point of the new railway being built from the coast to Nyasaland. George became a professional hunter providing essential meat for the gangs of construction workers building the railway. He was a self employed contractor with his own support crew of African men and began to build up a satisfactory business. However, following an incident where he had to shoot and kill a man who attacked him with a spear in middle of the night whilst he was sleeping, George left the lower Zambezi and took a paddle steamer to Nyasaland (Malawi). On his arrival in Karongo he was encouraged to shoot elephant which had reached plague proportions in the area – wrecking African homes and crops, and threatening the lives of those who opposed them.

                                  His next move was to travel by canoe the five hundred kilometre length of Lake Nyasa to Tanganyika, where he hunted for a while in the Lake Rukwa area, before walking through Northern Rhodesia (Zambia) to the Congo. Hunting his way he overachieved his quota of ivory resulting in his being charged with trespass, the confiscation of his rifles, and a fine of one thousand francs. He hunted his way through the Congo to Leopoldville then on to the Portuguese enclave, near the mouth of the mighty river, where he worked as a barman in a rough and tough bar until he received a message that his old friend Lumb had found gold at Lupa near Chunya. George set sail on the next boat for Antwerp in Belgium, then crossed to England and spent a few weeks with his family in Jacksdale before returning by sea to Dar es Salaam. Arriving at the gold fields he pegged his claim and almost immediately went down with blackwater fever – an illness that used to kill three out of four within a week.

                                  When he recovered from his fever, George exchanged his gold lease for a double barrelled .577 elephant rifle and took out a special elephant control licence with the Tanganyika Government. He then headed for the Congo again and poached elephant in Northern Rhodesia from a base in the Congo. He was known by the Africans as “iNyathi”, or the Buffalo, because he was the most dangerous in the long grass. After a profitable hunting expedition in his favourite hunting ground of the Kilombera River he returned to the Congo via Dar es Salaam and Mombassa. He was after the Kabalo district elephant, but hunting was restricted, so he set up his base in The Central African Republic at a place called Obo on the Congo tributary named the M’bomu River. From there he could make poaching raids into the Congo and the Upper Nile regions of the Sudan. He hunted there for two and a half years. He seldom came across other Europeans; hunters kept their own districts and guarded their own territories. But they respected one another and he made good and lasting friendships with members of that small select band of adventurers.

                                  Leaving for Europe via the Congo, George enjoyed a short holiday in Jacksdale with his mother. On his return trip to East Africa he met his future bride in Cape Town. She was 24 year old Eleanor Dunbar Leslie; a high school teacher and daughter of a magistrate who spent her spare time mountaineering, racing ocean yachts, and riding horses. After a whirlwind romance, they were betrothed within 36 hours.

                                  On 25 July 1930 George landed back in Dar es Salaam. He went directly to the Mbeya district to find a home. For one hundred pounds he purchased the Waizneker’s farm on the banks of the Mntshewe Stream. Eleanor, who had been delayed due to her contract as a teacher, followed in November. Her ship docked in Dar es Salaam on 7 Nov 1930, and they were married that day. At Mchewe Estate, their newly acquired farm, they lived in a tent whilst George with some help built their first home – a lovely mud-brick cottage with a thatched roof. George and Eleanor set about developing a coffee plantation out of a bush block. It was a very happy time for them. There was no electricity, no radio, and no telephone. Newspapers came from London every two months. There were a couple of neighbours within twenty miles, but visitors were seldom seen. The farm was a haven for wild life including snakes, monkeys and leopards. Eleanor had to go South all the way to Capetown for the birth of her first child Ann, but with the onset of civilisation, their first son George was born at a new German Mission hospital that had opened in Mbeya.

                                  Occasionally George had to leave the farm in Eleanor’s care whilst he went off hunting to make his living. Having run the coffee plantation for five years with considerable establishment costs and as yet no return, George reluctantly started taking paying clients on hunting safaris as a “white hunter”. This was an occupation George didn’t enjoy. but it brought him an income in the days when social security didn’t exist. Taking wealthy clients on hunting trips to kill animals for trophies and for pleasure didn’t amuse George who hunted for a business and for a way of life. When one of George’s trackers was killed by a leopard that had been wounded by a careless client, George was particularly upset.
                                  The coffee plantation was approaching the time of its first harvest when it was suddenly attacked by plagues of borer beetles and ring barking snails. At the same time severe hail storms shredded the crop. The pressure of the need for an income forced George back to the Lupa gold fields. He was unlucky in his gold discoveries, but luck came in a different form when he was offered a job with the Forestry Department. The offer had been made in recognition of his initiation and management of Tanganyika’s rainbow trout project. George spent most of his short time with the Forestry Department encouraging the indigenous people to conserve their native forests.

                                  In November 1938 he transferred to the Game Department as Ranger for the Eastern Province of Tanganyika, and over several years was based at Nzasa near Dar es Salaam, at the old German town of Morogoro, and at lovely Lyamungu on the slopes of Kilimanjaro. Then the call came for him to be transferred to Mbeya in the Southern Province for there was a serious problem in the Njombe district, and George was selected by the Department as the only man who could possibly fix the problem.

                                  Over a period of several years, people were being attacked and killed by marauding man-eating lions. In the Wagingombe area alone 230 people were listed as having been killed. In the Njombe district, which covered an area about 200 km by 300 km some 1500 people had been killed. Not only was the rural population being decimated, but the morale of the survivors was so low, that many of them believed that the lions were not real. Many thought that evil witch doctors were controlling the lions, or that lion-men were changing form to kill their enemies. Indeed some wichdoctors took advantage of the disarray to settle scores and to kill for reward.

                                  By hunting down and killing the man-eaters, and by showing the flesh and blood to the doubting tribes people, George was able to instil some confidence into the villagers. However the Africans attributed the return of peace and safety, not to the efforts of George Rushby, but to the reinstallation of their deposed chief Matamula Mangera who had previously been stood down for corruption. It was Matamula , in their eyes, who had called off the lions.

                                  Soon after this adventure, George was appointed Deputy Game Warden for Tanganyika, and was based in Arusha. He retired in 1956 to the Njombe district where he developed a coffee plantation, and was one of the first in Tanganyika to plant tea as a major crop. However he sensed a swing in the political fortunes of his beloved Tanganyika, and so sold the plantation and settled in a cottage high on a hill overlooking the Navel Base at Simonstown in the Cape. It was whilst he was there that TV Bulpin wrote his biography “The Hunter is Death” and George wrote his book “No More The Tusker”. He died in the Cape, and his youngest son Henry scattered his ashes at the Southern most tip of Africa where the currents of the Atlantic and Indian Oceans meet .

                                  George Gilman Rushby:

                                  #6220
                                  TracyTracy
                                  Participant

                                    Helper Belper: “Let’s start at the beginning.”

                                    When I found a huge free genealogy tree website with lots of our family already on it, I couldn’t believe my luck. Quite soon after a perusal, I found I had a number of questions. Was it really possible that our Warren family tree had been traced back to 500AD? I asked on a genealogy forum: only if you can latch onto an aristocratic line somewhere, in which case that lineage will be already documented, as normally parish records only go back to the 1600s, if you are lucky. It is very hard to prove and the validity of it met with some not inconsiderable skepticism among the long term hard core genealogists. This is not to say that it isn’t possible, but is more likely a response to the obvious desire of many to be able to trace their lineage back to some kind of royalty, regardless of the documentation and proof.

                                    Another question I had on this particular website was about the entries attached to Catherine Housley that made no sense. The immense public family tree there that anyone can add to had Catherine Housley’s mother as Catherine Marriot. But Catherine Marriot had another daughter called Catherine, two years before our Catherine was born, who didn’t die beforehand. It wasn’t unusual to name another child the same name if an earlier one had died in infancy, but this wasn’t the case.

                                    I asked this question on a British Genealogy forum, and learned that other people’s family trees are never to be trusted. One should always start with oneself, and trace back with documentation every step of the way. Fortified with all kinds of helpful information, I still couldn’t find out who Catherine Housley’s mother was, so I posted her portrait on the forum and asked for help to find her. Among the many helpful replies, one of the members asked if she could send me a private message. She had never had the urge to help someone find a person before, but felt a compulsion to find Catherine Housley’s mother. Eight months later and counting at time of writing, and she is still my most amazing Helper. The first thing she said in the message was “Right. Let’s start at the beginning. What do you know for sure.” I said Mary Ann Gilman Purdy, my great grandmother, and we started from there.

                                    Fran found all the documentation and proof, a perfect and necessary compliment to my own haphazard meanderings. She taught me how to find the proof, how to spot inconsistencies, and what to look for and where.  I still continue my own haphazard wanderings as well, which also bear fruit.

                                    It was decided to order the birth certificate, a paper copy that could be stuck onto the back of the portrait, so my mother in Wales ordered it as she has the portrait. When it arrived, she read the names of Catherine’s parents to me over the phone. We were expecting it to be John Housley and Sarah Baggaley. But it wasn’t! It was his brother Samuel Housley and Elizabeth Brookes! I had been looking at the photograph of the portrait thinking it was Catherine Marriot, then looking at it thinking her name was Sarah Baggaley, and now the woman in the portrait was Elizabeth Brookes. And she was from Wolverhampton. My helper, unknown to me, had ordered a digital copy, which arrived the same day.

                                    Months later, Fran, visiting friends in Derby,  made a special trip to Smalley, a tiny village not far from Derby, to look for Housley gravestones in the two churchyards.  There are numerous Housley burials registered in the Smalley parish records, but she could only find one Housley grave, that of Sarah Baggaley.  Unfortunately the documentation had already proved that Sarah was not the woman in the portrait, Catherine Housley’s mother, but Catherine’s aunt.

                                    Sarah Housley nee Baggaley’s grave stone in Smalley:

                                    Sarah Housley Grave

                                    #6116

                                    In reply to: Tart Wreck Repackage

                                    “What a load of rubbish,” said Star later. “I don’t believe a word of it. Well, except for the part about Vince French not being in a coma, that bit rang true. But the rest of it’s downright nonsense, if you ask me.”

                                    Tara waved to the waiter and ordered another two gin and tonics.  The Bell Bird Inn was conveniently located mid way between the office and their apartment, and needless to say, they were regulars.

                                    “There’s definitely something fishy going on with April’s story,” Tara agreed. “The wardrobe, for instance. Those notes with the same handwriting.  I don’t believe she’s filthy rich, either. Nobody who is filthy rich ever says “I’m filthy rich”.”

                                    “How would you know? How many filthy rich people do you hobnob with, then?”

                                    “Let’s not get off the point!” Star cried, exasperated. “What are we going to do?”

                                    “May as well start at the bottom and work our way up. Vince’s bottom. All we need to do is find Vince’s tattoo and we’ll have found Vince.  It’s fiendishly simple!” Tara looked smug.

                                    “Oh, right,” said Star when she found her voice. “Right. Because it’s just so easy to peruse bottom tattoos on the general public.”

                                    Tara giggled. “Don’t be silly. This is where we use our special unofficial skills. Remote viewing.”

                                    “But where do we start?”

                                    “Set the intention, and trust your intuition. Oh come on,” Star’s lack of enthusiasm was becoming tedious. “It will be fun!”

                                    #6067
                                    Jib
                                    Participant

                                      Since the sudden disappearance of the two au pair maids, a lot had happened. But for August Finest it has been a lot of the same routine going on.

                                      He wakes up in the early, early morning, his eyelids rubs on his eyeballs as if they are made of sandpaper. He seizes his belly with his hands, feels a little guilty about the nice meals prepared by Noor Mary especially for him since the start of the confinement. His six packs have started to fade away under a layer of fatty insulation and he tries to compensate by a daily routine in white T-shirt and underwear.

                                      The coffee machine has detected his movements and starts to make what it does. It’s always cleaned and replenished by the discrete Mary. The noise and the smell creates an ambiance and when it rings he eats breakfast before taking his shower.

                                      When he’s dressed up, his real work starts. It had not been easy for a man of his origins to appear as the best choice for the job under the Lump administration. President Lump was known to make bad jokes about his tan and him having spent too much time at the beach, and other worse things. But his worth was in the network he could connect the president with, his high discretion, which Lump was in dire need to compensate his innate tendency to boasting, and a strong adaptability to fix the president’s frequent messing around.

                                      If August Finest had once admired the man and accepted the job for him, it soon changed when he realised there was nothing more underneath the boasting than more boasting and unpredictability. At the moment the only thing that make him continue was his ability to go stealth when the president had a fit of nerves, and the imposed confinement that made it impossible to leave the Beige House.

                                      After the morning meeting during which the president asked him to fire a few members of the staff, August had to prepare a press conference. President Lump said he had thought about a few remarks about China and making a connection with the Mexican immigrants threatening the country by stealing the masks of the American People. After which, he had to plan a charity with first Lady Mellie Noma and redefine what a Masquerade meant. He had been asked to invite nurses and medical personnel, meaning republican and good looking in a blouse with a medical mask to make the promotion of the new mask industry Made in America. One of Mr Lump’s friend had just started a brand and was in need of some media promotion.

                                      August reread the memo to be addressed to the director of the FBI, a good friend of his. A special cell at the FBI had been created especially since Lump came to power. For this particular occasion, agents posing as patients victims of the virus would be sent in the best ranked hospitals in the country with the task to look for the best nurse and doctor candidates and send them an invitation printed by Lump’s nephew’s printing company.

                                      As Lump always said: “America Fist! And don’t forget people, I am America.”

                                      August hit the enter button and closed the window of his professional mail account, leaving the draft of a personal mail on screen. He wasn’t sure if he could send this one. It was addressed to Noor Mary and he feared she would misunderstand the meaning of it.

                                      #4837
                                      TracyTracy
                                      Participant

                                        Liz was not pleased about the latest insubordinate action of those plotting against her. Fashion choices indeed! She had been sorting out her wardrobe, having to do it all herself because of Finnley’s latest scam to take time off, putting away the summery things and bringing out the clothes for the coming cooler weather.

                                        She’d had the usual little thrill at seeing familiar old favourites, clothes that she’d felt comfortable and happy in for many years. It would be unthinkable to throw them out, like tossing out an old friend just because they were getting wrinkled and saggy, or fat in the wrong places.

                                        Liz prided herself on her thoughtfulness about the environment when making her “fashion” choices, always choosing second hand items. She liked to think they already had a little of their own history, and that they appreciated being rescued. She abhorred the trends that the gullible lapped up when she saw them looking ridiculous in unflattering unsuitable clothes that would be clearly out of fashion just as they were starting to look pleasantly worn in.

                                        Warming to the theme, Liz recalled some of the particularly useless garments she’d seen over the years. Woolly polo neck sweaters that were sleeveless, for example. In what possible weather would one wear such a thing, without either suffering from a stifling hot neck, or goose flesh arms? High heeled shoes was another thing. The evidence was clear, judging by the amount of high heeled shoes in immaculate only worn once condition that littered the second hand markets. Nobody could walk in them, and nobody wanted them. Oddly enough though, people were still somehow persuaded to buy more and more new ones. Maybe one day in the future, collectors would have glass fronted cabinets, full of antique high heeled shoes. Or perhaps it would baffle future archaeologists, and they would guess they had been for religious or ritual purposes.

                                        Liz decided to turn the tables on this new character, Alessandro. She would give him a lesson or two on dress sense. The first thing she would tell him was that labels are supposed to be worn on the inside, not the outside.

                                        “One doesn’t write “Avon” in orange make up on one’s face, dear, even if it’s been seen in one of those shiny colourful publications,” Liz said it kindly so as not to rile him too much. “One doesn’t write “Pepto Dismal” in pink marker pen upon ones stomach.”

                                        Alessandro glanced at Finnley, who avoided catching his eye. He cleared his throat and said brightly, “I’ve organized a shopping trip, Liz! Come on, let’s go!”

                                        “While you’re out, I’ll see what Liz has thrown out, so I can cut it up for dolls clothes,” Fnnley said, to which Liz retorted, “I have thrown nothing out.” Liz cut Finnley short as she protested that Liz didn’t wear most of it anyway. “Yes, but I might, one day.”

                                        Turning to Alessandro, she said “Although I’m a busy woman, I will come shopping with you, my boy. You clearly need some pointers,” she added, looking at his shoes.

                                        #4823
                                        TracyTracy
                                        Participant

                                          Bugger them all then, Lucinda said to herself, I’ll carry on here without them.

                                          For a time she had been despondent at being abandoned, sinking into an aching overcast gloom to match the weather. Waiting for it to rain, and then waiting for it to stop.

                                          On impulse, in an attempt to snap out of the doldrums, she signed up for a Creative Writing and Rambling course at the local Psychic Self Institute. Institutionalizing psychic matters had been the brainchild of the latest political party to gain power, and hitherto under the radar prophets, healers and remote viewers had flocked to sign up. The institute has promised pension and public health credits to all members who could prove their mental prowess, and needless to say it had attracted many potential scammers: useless nobodies who wanted to heal their diseases, or lazy decrepit old scroungers who wanted to retire.

                                          Much to everyone’s surprise, not least their own, the majority of them had passed the tests, simply by winging it: making it up and hoping for the best. Astonishingly the results were more impressive than the results from the already established professional P.H.A.R.T.s ~ (otherwise known as Prophets, Healers and Remote Technicians).

                                          This raised questions about the premise of the scheme, and how increasingly difficult it was to establish a criteria for deservingness of pensions and health care, particularly if any untrained and unregistered Tom, Dick or Harry was in possession of superior skills, as appeared to be the case. The debate continues to this day.

                                          Nothwithstanding, the Institute continued to offer courses, outings and educational and inspiring talks. The original plan had been to offer qualifications, but the entrance exams had provoked such a quandary about the value and meaning (if any) of qualifications, that the current modus operandi was to simply offer each member, regardless of merit or experience, a simple membership card with a number on it. It was gold coloured and had classical scrolls and lettering on it in an attempt to bestow worth and meaning. Nobody was fooled, but everyone loved it.

                                          And everyone loved the tea room at the Institute. It was thought that some cake aficionado’s had even joined the Institute merely for the desserts, but nobody objected. There was a welcome collective energy of pleasure, appreciation and conviviality in the tea room, and it’s magnetic appeal ~ and exceptional cakes ~ ensured it’s popularity and acclaim.

                                          A small group had started a campaign to get it placed on the Institutes Energetic Cake Connector mapping programme. As Lucinda had said in a moment of clarity, “A back street bar can be just as much of an energy magnet as an old stone relic”, casting doubt over the M.O.S.S group’s (Mysterious Old Stone Sites) relevance to anything potentially useful.

                                          “In fact,” Lucinda continued, surprising herself, ““I’ve only just realized that the energy magnets aren’t going to be secret, hidden and derelict. They’re going to be busy. Like cities.”

                                          Several members of the M.O.S.S group had glared at her.

                                          Lucinda hadn’t really thought much about what to expect in the creative writing classes.

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