Search Results for 'remained'

 

Cedric Spellbind:

Cedric Spellbind stood tall, though not imposing, with a wiry frame that belied his years of rigorous witch-hunting. His eyes, a piercing green, darted nervously beneath the brim of his deerstalker hat, giving him the appearance of a man constantly on edge. A seasoned agent of MAMA, he carried an air of determined resolve, despite his recent demotion to desk duty in Limerick.

With a face that seemed perpetually caught between youthful eagerness and a weariness beyond his years, Cedric was a man marked by his contradictions. His dark hair, often disheveled from restless nights, framed a face etched with the lines of a life spent in pursuit of the arcane and the elusive.

Clad in a trench coat that had seen better days, Cedric’s attire was a patchwork of practicality and the remnants of a more distinguished past. Despite his amateurish attempts at stealth and the financial strains of his profession, Cedric’s spirit remained unbroken. He was a man driven by a fascination with the unknown and a cautious curiosity, particularly when it came to the enigmatic Frigella O’Green.

Yet, beneath the veneer of a bumbling spy, there lay a heart of determination and a mind constantly strategizing, always ready to seize the next opportunity to prove his worth in the clandestine world of witch hunting.

Once again, the Quadrivium headquarters buzzed with an undercurrent of tension and anticipation. Malové stood at the helm, her gaze as steely and unwavering as ever. The coven’s regular meetings had taken on a new urgency in the face of mounting market pressures and the ever-accelerating pace of competition.

The witches assembled in the grand hall, each carrying the weight of their individual concerns and collective anxieties. A large screen was projecting the agenda in flashy neon colours with a glamourous photo of their leader. The event was broadcast across many locations, not all witches able to join physically as the ongoing Worldwide Roman Games preparation and the 333th celebration of the Treaty of Limerick ending the Williamite War, had made the city impenetrable due to the convergence of world leaders.

Not only for those present, all of them seated in-person, or remotely connected had felt the tremors of change, the subtle yet insistent push towards transformation. Yet despite their best efforts, a cohesive vision for the coven’s future remained elusive.

As the last witch took her seat and the various technical glitches got sorted, Malové stepped forward, her presence commanding immediate silence. With a flick of her wrist, a spectral map materialized before them, shimmering with points of light that represented their past achievements and future challenges.

“Listen well,” Malové began, her voice echoing through the hall with the gravity of an ancient spell. “We stand at a crossroads, a juncture where our past accomplishments meet the demands of an unforgiving future. Our strength has always been in our unity and our mastery of the arcane, but now, we must also master the art of transformation.”

She paused, allowing her words to sink in. The witches leaned forward, their eyes locked onto their formidable leader.

“Transformation,” she continued, “is not merely a matter of adapting to external pressures. It requires a boldness of spirit and a willingness to steer the deepest currents of our inner selves. It demands that we break free from the confines of tradition without losing our core essence.”

Malové waved her hand, and the map shifted to reveal a complex network of interconnected pathways. “Our path forward will not be linear. It will be a labyrinth, requiring both cunning and courage. But fear not, for I have charted a course that will lead us through.”

She pointed to three glowing nodes on the map. “First, we shall innovate. Our magical incense blends have always been our hallmark, but we must go beyond. We will delve into new realms of magic, combining our ancient practices with cutting-edge techniques. Each of you will be tasked with researching and developing a new blend that can transform not just our coven, but the world.”

The witches exchanged glances, a mixture of excitement and apprehension flickering in their eyes.

“Second,” Malové continued, “we must strengthen our alliances. The world is vast, and we are not alone in our quest for magical mastery. We will forge new partnerships with other covens, magical beings, and even those who walk the line between the mundane and the mystical. Together, we will create a network of power and influence that none can rival.”

The map expanded, showing potential allies and strategic locations across the globe. The witches nodded, recognizing the necessity of this bold move.

“Lastly,” Malové said, her voice softening yet losing none of its intensity, “we must look within. Inner transformation is the crucible in which true power is forged. Each of you will undergo a rigorous process of self-examination and growth. You will face your fears, confront your weaknesses, and emerge stronger and more resilient. Only then can we hope to lead others through their own transformations.”

She paused, meeting the eyes of each witch in turn. “I will be with you every step of the way. My role is not just to lead, but to guide and support you. We will hold workshops, retreats, and one-on-one sessions to ensure that every member of the Quadrivium is prepared for the journey ahead.”

Truella, who had tuned in remotely, winced softly behind her screen – she quickly checked. Phew, she had been on mute the whole time.

Malové’s voice grew softer still, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of an ancient prophecy. “We are the Quadrivium. We are woven together by threads of magic and destiny. Our future is not written in stone, but in the stars. Together, we will reach for those stars and make them our own.”

The hall was silent, the witches absorbing the magnitude of Malové’s words. Slowly, a sense of resolve began to build, a collective determination to embrace the path laid out before them.

As the meeting drew to a close, Malové turned back to the spectral map, her eyes reflecting the myriad possibilities that lay ahead. “Remember this day, for it marks the beginning of our grand transformation. We will not be merely a coven. We will be a force of nature, a symphony of magic that weaves through time and space.”

With a final wave of her hand, the map vanished, leaving only the echoes of her words and the indomitable spirit of the Quadrivium, and throngs of witches left more confused as they exited the halls in hushed tones.

Getting this out in the room did bring a tide of emotions; pent-up frustration, indignation, bits of bruised egoes, the whole spectrum. Truella’s tirade had managed to uncork a complete bundle of electricity in the atmosphere, but the genie had left the building.

Eris had suddenly felt like scrambling away, but had stayed along with spaced out Frigella and Jeezel as she’d felt a pang of responsibility.

Surprisingly, Malové had remained composed throughout the heated ensuing exchanges, trying to be constructive at every turn, and managing to conclude most of the debates —even when was not fully settled, and by far, a round of collected feedback afterwards, she’d clapped appreciatively saying. “Congratulations team, seeing how we are no longer covertly disagreeing behind everyone else’s back, I can see improvement in our functioning as a cohesive Coven. Believe it or not, being in a place to openly voice disagreement is a sign of progress, we’ve moved past the trust issues, into constructive conflict. There is still much to be done to commit, be accountable and focus on results together, but I feel we are on track to a brighter future, you’ve all done well.”

Back in her cottage in Finland,  Eris was wondering “then why do I feel so bloody exhausted…”

She played back in her head some of the comments that Malové had shared in private after, when Eris had enquired if there would be some consequences for her witch’s friend actions. Once more, Malové has shown a unusual restraint that had put her worries at ease for now.

“Truella’s actions during the Adare Manor workshop presentation displayed boldness and conviction, two qualities that are essential for any individual, executive or otherwise, who wishes to effect change within an organization or a venture. Standing up for oneself is not only about self-assurance; it’s about ensuring that your voice and perspective are heard and considered.

However, the manner in which one stands up for oneself is crucial. Berating others, especially in a public forum such as a workshop presentation, can be counterproductive. It can create resistance and diminish the opportunity for constructive dialogue. While I understand her frustration, it is important to channel such energies towards a more strategic approach that fosters collaboration and leads to solutions.

As a leader, I advocate for clear communication and assertiveness, tempered with respect for all members of the coven. The success of our ventures, vaping or otherwise, depends on our ability to work cohesively towards our common goals. Truella’s passion is commendable, but it must be directed appropriately to benefit the coven and our business endeavors.”

She had asked Eris to convey the same to Truella. She’d made no promises —her friend was known to be more difficult to herd than cats. But with time, there would be a chance she would see reason.

Meanwhile, their sales targets had not gone away, and they had to keep the Quadrivium afloat. With Truella checking out of the game, and clearly not overly engaged on results, it fell onto the rest of the team to deliver.

A second session of workshop and celebration was planned in a month’s time in Spain with all top witches. With Eris’ last experience in Spain and her elephant head, she was starting to dread another mishap. Plus, she sighed when she looked at the invite. She would have to fetch a cocktail attire. A vacation was long overdue…

Jeezel had quickly come back to her sense, despite the gnawing sense that she should have closed the portal quicker and that something —someone?— could have followed them here. She could have done a debugging spell, but for now it would have to wait. Malové was growing antsy, and was getting prone to fits of winking that couldn’t bode well.

Jeezel had found the perfect spot for them to install the apparatus that was hidden inside the bag of infinite depth that Fingella was carrying with her. Truth was, Echo had been of help. When asked, the familiar sprite had quickly scanned the area and shared: The Sambódromo, too obvious. Copacabana, too crowded. Try the old district of Santa Teresa. Charm, history, and the right kind of energy, plus the tourists tend to overlook it. 

Meanwhile, Truella was suffering from the side effects of the portal’s severance, finding it more difficult to maintain her bilocation across the continents without the supporting effect of the portal. She was given a potion to realign her energies that gave her chills down to her teeth, and had chosen to go for a rest here in Rio, which could allow her to focus on her other self as it was still late afternoon in Europe.

“Only three days before the grand finale of the Carnival, where energies will be at their peak!” Malové had encouraged them. “Let’s get moving!”

Eris who’d remained quiet, patrolling the energy perimeter they’d set up to cloak themselves looked at them with a concerned look. “It shouldn’t be the case with the protection spells, but I think we are being observed.”

“Time to switch disguises maybe?” Jeezel was yearning for a change, as the lycra of the nurse outfit was not mixing well with the damp weather.

The disturbance had been felt in the bustling heart of Rio.

The warmth of the night had amplified the vibrant energy of the Carnival in Rio, a pulsating heart that reverberated through the city’s veins. But as the beat of samba drums echoed in the distance, a different rhythm was being played behind closed doors. Iemanjá, the head of the Umbanda clan and a pillar of strength in the Witches of the New World, recognized the tremors of another magick at play.

Gathering her coven under the silvery light of the crescent moon, they began the rhythmic dance of the macumba ritual. The air grew heavy, scented with copal and the salty tang of the ocean. In the center of their circle, a waterspout swirled, revealing in its shallow reflection the glow of a portal that emitted the icy chill of a Limerick dawn.

Piercing through the veil of secrecy, Iemanjá’s ethereal sight witnessed the foreign witches, led by the enigmatic Malové, who dared to encroach upon their territory without the required parchmentwork. And yet, their motives remained hidden within the vortex of desire and lust emanating from the Carnival.

A murmur of discontent rippled through the Umbanda clan. Mesmirah, her second, couldn’t stop herself shouting Sacrilégio! They were not ones to tolerate trespassers, let alone those who dared to siphon off energy from their sacred lands.

Silêncio! Iemanjá commanded the crowd. She’d recognized Malové from having attended and graduated the same MWA (Master of Witchcraft Administration), and she was aware of Malove’s little incense business; Malové didn’t strike her as someone to bypass the rules, some handed down through countless generations, binding together most witches across the world despite their varying practices.

She had to be mindful of the delicate balance between the Old World clans and the New. An unauthorized incursion could easily spark a conflict that would ripple through the witching worlds.

Just as the ocean waves respect the boundary of the shore, so must the witches respect the territories — an ancient pact carved in the pillars of the Old World. This blatant disregard by Malové and her coven was akin to scratching the surface of a simmering cauldron, threatening to disrupt the harmony that had been carefully cultivated.

As the revelation sunk in, Iemanjá knew they had to tread carefully. A confrontation would lead to a war bigger than themselves —yet, they couldn’t let this transgression slide. Their pride and the protection of their territory demanded action.

Mesmirah! she finally spoke You will take three witches with you, and investigate what business these Old World witches have in Rio. You will report to me.

Mesmirah nodded, understanding that she was not yet granted authority to investigate in an official capacity. Iemanja was acting surprisingly soft, and didn’t want the Elders to be informed yet, but had recognized action was needed. Mesmirah was confident she would easily find out what was happening, and maybe use that opportunity to her —their advantage. The game of power was on.

She knew she was being followed even before her familiar started to psst her about the dark haired cloaked stranger.

Eris couldn’t pinpoint precisely what drove her to leap headfirst into the swirling vortex. Perhaps it was a misplaced sense of duty —it was certainly not the sentiment of thrill that Malové had attempted to instill. It was probably the same habit that compelled her to eat the repulsive morsels off her plate first, working her way up to the more palatable fare.

Kirottu juoma, she muttered under her breath as she forced down the bitter potion Frigella had provided, intended to counteract the disorienting effects of the displacement spells within the vortex. Their abrupt arrival in the sultry heat of Rio caught them off guard, despite the stillness of the night.

“Would go down better with a dash of brandy” Truella said, wincing. She appeared on and off, and seemed to struggle to remain focused.

“I can’t believe it! Are you actually on a bilocating spell?” Malové asked reproachfully to Truella. “I thought it was obvious I needed your undivided attention!”

“Sorry,” Truella said after a moment of absence and a burp. “Was talking to Roger at the same time.” Then catching up with the remark, she shrugged and retorted “must have missed the fine print.”

Malové remained stoic like a serene swan above water, her mad paddling never perceptible. “No time to dawdle, we have to make preparations for the gathering of essence. “Jeezel! Are you listening?”

“Yes, M’am,… I mean Grand Hexmistress.”

The other witches looked at her like she’d blurted out something out of place. Malové chose to let it pass. “Quick now, you’re the one with the sigils to find us the perfect spot to set up our equipment.”

“Yes, yes! I’m on it!” Jeezel replied, so visibly distracted that her wig went askew by a millimeter without her noticing.

“Have you forgotten proper decorum in addressing the Head Witch? What’s happening?” Frigella drew Jeezel gently by the sleeve.

Jeezel’s eyes widened in mild panic: “I think I may have forgotten to close the portal.”

What satisfying conclusion to this saga?

Granola was the tying material to their friend, and her pop-in nascent capabilities (ability to project into material matter, sometimes being corporeal) could help. Her goal was to wake her friends out of their routines, and reinvigorate the stories they tell themselves about their lives.

• Maeve was the one making custom dolls.
• Shawn Paul her handsome bearded bachelor next door was an aspiring writer looking for a story to tell and to become published.
• Lucinda is their neighbour, enrolled in creative writing courses.
• Jerk is a clerk at a local WholeDay*Mart and also manages a forum in his spare time.

 

• Uncle Fergus is Maeve’s father’s estranged brother.

The dolls were found in all across places, used by different groups, maybe glamour bombs for some, maybe ways to smuggle information and keys.

Across their trips they connect with story characters, and unknowingly revive their stories.

POP*IN THREAD (plot development suggestions, to be looked into later)

Maeve and Shawn-Paul are still in Tikfijikoo, investigating the mysterious dolls and their connection to Uncle Fergus. They’ve also encountered strange happenings, including a missing girl and a strange man in a top hat.

Meanwhile, Jerk is still moderating the forum and dealing with the strange messages. Lucinda is continuing her creative writing course and enjoying her time with Fabio.

Granola is currently on a mission to find Ailill and learn more about pop-ins, while also trying to reconnect with her friends and figure out what’s going on with the dolls.

As for the mysterious man following Maeve, his intentions are still unclear, but it seems he has some connection to Uncle Fergus and the dolls. The group is still trying to uncover the truth and figure out their next steps.

In the end, Granola’s pop-in abilities proved to be the key to unlocking the mystery of the dolls and their connection to Uncle Fergus. With her help, Maeve and Shawn-Paul were able to uncover the truth about the dolls and their purpose, and use them to reconnect with various story characters across their trips.

Through their adventures, they also discovered the power of storytelling and the importance of shaking up their routines to keep their lives interesting and full of wonder. Jerk found a new sense of purpose in managing the forum and connecting with others through his passion for the dolls and their stories.

In the final chapter, Uncle Fergus reconciled with Maeve’s father and shared the true meaning behind the dolls and their connection to their family history.

While Shawn-Paul’s path led him to become a successful author, Lucinda’s path took a different turn. She found fulfillment in her creative writing course and continued to hone her skills, but she didn’t pursue a career as a writer. Instead, she used her passion for storytelling to help others, working as a therapist and using storytelling techniques to help her clients work through their struggles and find healing. Lucinda’s work was deeply rewarding, and she felt fulfilled in being able to help others in such a meaningful way.

As for Granola, she continued to pop-in and out of their lives, using her abilities to bring joy and excitement to their everyday routines, and keeping their stories alive for years to come. The group remained close friends, bonded by their shared experiences and love of storytelling.

Something in the style of TPooh:

The family tree was a tangled web of branches and roots, stretching back centuries and even millennia. The branches were thick with the leaves of secrets, scandals, and mysteries that the family had accumulated over the years. They were a close-knit group, friends for all time, and they loved nothing more than exploring the twists and turns of their family history.

They met regularly in their dreams, in a place they called The City, where they could exchange stories and clues they had uncovered during their waking hours. They often found themselves in the midst of strange and puzzling occurrences, and they would spend hours discussing the possible meanings and connections of these events. They saw the world as a tapestry, with each thread and pattern contributing to the greater picture. They were the weavers of their own story, the authors of their own fate.

But as the years went on, their dreams began to take on a darker and more ominous tone. They started having nightmares of monstrous beasts, and some of them even saw these beasts in the daylight, as if they were falling through the cracks in reality. They compared notes and found that they were often seeing the same beasts, and this led to heated debates about what these beasts represented and whether they were real or just figments of their imagination.

But no matter what they encountered, the family remained united in their quest to unravel the secrets of their past and to weave a tapestry that would be the envy of all. They were thick as thieves and they would never give up their pursuit of the truth, no matter how many rules they had to break along the way.

Brownings of Tetbury

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

And again in 1836:

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

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

Susan was 56 when she died in Tetbury in 1879.

 

Three of the Browning daughters went to London.

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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:

 

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:

 

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.

Matthew Orgill and His Family

 

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

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

LATE MATTHEW ORGILL PEACEFUL END TO A BLAMELESS LIFE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

But what to make of the inscription in the window?

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

Another Orgill Orgill marriage!

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

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

The Measham Thatchers

Orgills, Finches and Wards

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

ORGILL

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

Matthew and Elizabeth Orgill, Measham Baptist church:

 

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

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

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

 

FINCH

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

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

WARD

 

The ancient boundary between the kingdom of Mercia and the Danelaw

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Borders:

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

Richard Dunmore’s Appleby Magma website.

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

 

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

 

The Housley Letters

The Carringtons

Carrington Farm, Smalley:

 

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: