Search Results for 'sold'

John Brooks
The Father of Catherine Housley’s Mother, Elizabeth Brooks.

I had not managed to find out anything about the Brooks family in previous searches. We knew that Elizabeth Brooks father was J Brooks, cooper, from her marriage record. A cooper is a man who makes barrels.

Elizabeth was born in 1819 in Sutton Coldfield, parents John and Mary Brooks. Elizabeth had three brothers, all baptised in Sutton Coldfield: Thomas 1815-1821, John 1816-1821, and William Brooks, 1822-1875. William was known to Samuel Housley, the husband of Elizabeth, which we know from the Housley Letters, sent from the family in Smalley to George, Samuel’s brother, in USA, from the 1850s to 1870s. More to follow on William Brooks.

Elizabeth married Samuel Housley in Wolverhampton in 1844. Elizabeth and Samuel had three daughters in Smalley before Elizabeth’s death from TB in 1849, the youngest, just 6 weeks old at the time, was my great great grandmother Catherine Housley.

Elizabeth’s mother Mary died in 1823, and it not known if Elizabeth, then four, and William, a year old, stayed at home with their father or went to stay with relatives. There were no census records during those years.

John Brooks married Mary Wagstaff in 1814 in Birmingham. A witness at their marriage was Elizabeth Brooks, and this was probably John’s sister.

On the 1841 census (which was the first census in England) John Brooks, cooper, was living on Dudley Road, Wolverhampton, with wife Sarah. I was unable to find a marriage for them before a marriage in 1845 between John Brooks and Sarah Hughes, so presumably they lived together as man and wife before they married.

Then came the lucky find with John Brooks place of birth: Netherseal, Leicestershire. The place of birth on the 1841 census wasn’t specified, thereafter it was. On the 1851 census John Brooks, cooper, and Sarah his wife were living at Queens Cross, Dudley, with a three year old granddaughter E Brooks. John was born in 1791 in Netherseal.

It was commonplace for people to move to the industrial midlands around this time, from the surrounding countryside. However if they died before the 1851 census stating place of birth, it’s usually impossible to find out where they came from, particularly if they had a common name.
John Brooks doesn’t appear on any further census. I found seven deaths registered in Dudley for a John Brooks between 1851 and 1861, so presumably he is one of them.

NETHERSEAL

On 27 June 1790 appears in the Netherseal parish register “John Brooks the son of John and Elizabeth Brooks Priestnal was baptised.” The name Priestnal does not appear in the transcription, nor the Bishops Transcripts, nor on any other sibling baptism.  The Priestnal mystery will be solved in the next chapter.

John Brooks senior married Elizabeth Wilson by marriage licence on 20 November 1788 in Gresley, a neighbouring town in Derbyshire (incidentally near to Swadlincote and the ancestral lines of the Warren family, which also has branches in Netherseal. The Brooks family is the Marshall side). John Brooks was a farmer.

I haven’t found a baptism yet for John Brooks senior, but his death in Netherseal in 1846 provided the age at death, eighty years old, which puts his birth at 1766. The 1841 census has his birth as 1766 as well.

In 1841 John Brooks was 75, and “independent”, meaning that he was living on his own means. The name Brooks was transcribed as Broster, making this difficult to find, but it is clearly Brooks if you look at the original.

His wife Elizabeth, born in 1762, is also on the census, as well as the Jackson family: Joseph Jackon born 1804, Elizabeth Jackson his wife born 1799, and children Joseph, born 1833, William 1834, Thomas 1835, Stephen 1836, and Mary born 1838.

John and Elizabeths daughter Elizabeth Brooks, born in 1799, married Joseph Jackson, the son of an “opulent farmer” (newspaper archives) of Tatenhill, Staffordshire. They married on the 19th January 1832 in Burton on Trent. (Elizabeth Brooks was probably the witness on John Brooks junior’s marriage to Mary Wagstaff in Birmingham in 1814, although it could have been his mother, also Elizabeth Brooks.)

(Elizabeth Jackson nee Brooks was the aunt of Elizabeth in the portrait)

Joseph Jackson was declared bankrupt in 1833 (newspapers) and in 1834 a noticed in the newspapers “to the creditors of Joseph Jackson junior”, a victualler and farmer late of Netherseal, “following no business, who was lately dischared from his Majesty’s Gaol at Stafford” whose real estate was to be sold by auction. I haven’t yet found what he was in prison for.

In 1841 Joseph appeared again in the newspapers, in which he publicly stated that he had accused Thomas Webb, surgeon of Barton Under Needwood, of owing him money “just to annoy him” and “with a view to extort money from him”. and that he undertakes to pay Thomas Webb or his attorney, the costs within 14 days.

Joseph and Elizabeth had twins in 1841, born in Netherseal, John and Ruth. Elizabeth died in 1850.
Thereafter, Joseph was a labourer at the iron works in Wednesbury, and many generations of Jacksons continued working in the iron industry in Wednesbury ~ all orignially descended from farmers in Netherseal and Tatenhill.

Gatacre Hall and The Old Book

 

 

In the early 1950s my uncle John and his friend, possibly John Clare,  ventured into an abandoned old house while out walking in Shropshire. He (or his friend) saved an old book from the vandalised dereliction and took it home.  Somehow my mother ended up with the book.

 

 

I remember that we had the book when we were living in USA, and that my mother said that John didn’t want the book in his house. He had said the abandoned hall had been spooky. The book was heavy and thick with a hard cover. I recall it was a “magazine” which seemed odd to me at the time; a compendium of information. I seem to recall the date 1553, but also recall that it was during the reign of Henry VIII. No doubt one of those recollections is wrong, probably the date.  It was written in English, and had illustrations, presumably woodcuts.

I found out a few years ago that my mother had sold the book some years before. Had I known she was going to sell it, I’d have first asked her not to, and then at least made a note of the name of it, and taken photographs of it. It seems that she sold the book in Connecticut, USA, probably in the 1980’s.

My cousin and I were talking about the book and the story. We decided to try and find out which abandoned house it was although we didn’t have much to go on: it was in Shropshire, it was in a state of abandoned dereliction in the early 50s, and it contained antiquarian books.

 

 

I posted the story on a Shropshire History and Nostalgia facebook group, and almost immediately had a reply from someone whose husband remembered such a place with ancient books and manuscripts all over the floor, and the place was called Gatacre Hall in Claverley, near Bridgnorth. She also said that there was a story that the family had fled to Canada just after WWII, even leaving the dishes on the table.

The Gatacre family sailing to Canada in 1947:

 

When my cousin heard the name Gatacre Hall she remembered that was the name of the place where her father had found the book.

I looked into Gatacre Hall online, in the newspaper archives, the usual genealogy sites and google books searches and so on.  The estate had been going downhill with debts for some years. The old squire died in 1911, and his eldest son died in 1916 at the Somme. Another son, Galfrey Gatacre, was already farming in BC, Canada. He was unable to sell Gatacre Hall because of an entail, so he closed the house up. Between 1945-1947 some important pieces of furniture were auctioned, and the rest appears to have been left in the empty house.

 

 

The family didn’t suddenly flee to Canada leaving the dishes on the table, although it was true that the family were living in Canada.

 

 

An interesting thing to note here is that not long after this book was found, my parents moved to BC Canada (where I was born), and a year later my uncle moved to Toronto (where he met his wife).

 

Captain Gatacre in 1918:

 

 

The Gatacre library was mentioned in the auction notes of a particular antiquarian book:

“Provenance: Contemporary ownership inscription and textual annotations of Thomas Gatacre (1533-1593). A younger son of William Gatacre of Gatacre Hall in Shropshire, he studied at the English college at the University of Leuven, where he rejected his Catholic roots and embraced evangelical Protestantism. He studied for eleven years at Oxford, and four years at Magdalene, Cambridge. In 1568 he was ordained deacon and priest by Bishop of London Edmund Grindal, and became domestic chaplain to Robert Dudley, 1st Earl of Leicester and was later collated to the rectory of St Edmund’s, Lombard Street. His scholarly annotations here reference other classical authors including Plato and Plutarch. His extensive library was mentioned in his will.”

 

There are thirty four pages in this 1662 book about Thomas Gatacre d 1654:

Helix 25 – Space Tai Chi and Mass Lunacy

The Grand Observation Atrium was one of the few places on Helix 25 where people would come and regroup from all strata of the ship —Upper Decks, Lower Decks, even the more elusive Hold-dwellers— there were always groups of them gathered for the morning sessions without any predefined roles.

In the secular tradition of Chinese taichi done on public squares, a revival of this practice has started few years ago all thanks to Grand Master Sifu Gou quiet stubborn consistency to practice in the early light of the artificial day, that gradually had attracted followers, quietly and awkwardly joining to follow his strange motions. The unions, ever eager to claim a social victory and seeing an opportunity to boost their stature, petitioned to make this a right, and succeeded, despite the complaints from the cleaning staff who couldn’t do their jobs (and jogs) in the late night while all passengers had gone to sleep, apart from the night owls and party goers.

In short, it was a quiet moment of communion, and it was now institutionalised, whether Sifu Gou had wanted it or not.

The artificial gravity fluctuated subtly here, closer to the artificial gravitational core, in a way that could help attune people to feel their balance shift, even in absence of the Earth’s old pull.

It was simply perfect for Space Tai Chi.

A soft chime signaled the start of the session. Grand Master Gou, in the Helix 25’s signature milk-silk fabric pajamas, silver-haired and in a quiet poise, stood at the center of the open-air space beneath the reinforced glass dome, where Jupiter loomed impossibly large beyond the ship, its storms shifting in slow, eternal violence. He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands bearing a weight that flowed improbably in the thinness of the gravity shifts.

“To find one’s center,” he intoned, “is to find the center of all things. The ship moves, and so do we. You need to feel the center of gravity and use it —it is our guide.”

A hundred bodies followed in various degrees of synchrony, from well-dressed Upper Deck philosophers to the manutentioners and practical mechanics of the Lower Decks in their uniforms who stretched stiff shoulders between shift rotations. There was something mesmerizing about the communal movement, that even the ship usually a motionless background, seemed to vibrate beneath their feet as though their motions echoed through space.

Every morning, for this graceful moment, Helix 25 felt like a true utopia.

That was without counting when the madness began.

The Gossip Spiral

“Did you hear about Sarawen?” hissed a woman in a flowing silk robe.
“The Lexican?” gasped another.
“Yes. Gave birth last night.”
“What?! Already? Why weren’t we informed?”
“Oh, she kept it very quiet. Didn’t even invite anyone to the naming.”
“Disgraceful. And where are her two husbands? Following her everywhere. Suspicious if you ask me.”

A grizzled Lower Deck worker grunted, still trying to follow Master Gou’s movement. “Why would she invite people to see her water break? Sounds unhygienic.”

This earned a scandalized gasp from an Upper Decker. “Not the birth—the ceremony! Honestly, you Lower Deck folk know nothing of tradition.”

Wisdom Against Wisdom

Master Gou was just finishing an elegant and powerful sweep of his arms when Edeltraut Snoot, a self-proclaimed philosopher from Quadrant B, pirouetted herself into the session with a flamboyant twirl.

“Ah, my dear glowing movement-makers! Thou dost align thine energies with the artificial celestial pull, and yet! And yet! Dost thou not see—this gravity is but a fabrication! A lie to lull thee into believing in balance when there is none!”

Master Gou paused, blinking, impassive, suspended in time and space, yet intently concentrated. Handling such disturbances of the force gracefully, unperturbed, was what the practice was about. He resumed as soon as Edeltraut moved aside to continue her impassionate speech.

“Ah yiii! The Snoot Knows. Oh yes. Balance is an illusion sold to us by the Grand Micromanagers, the Whymen of the Ever-Hungry Order. Like pacmaniacs, they devour structure and call it stability. And we! We are but rabbits, forced to hop through their labyrinth of rules!”

Someone muttered, “Oh no, it’s another of those speeches.”

Another person whispered, “Just let her talk, it’s easier.”

The Snoot lady continued, undeterred. “But we? Oh, we are not merely rabbits. We are the mist in the hedge! The trick in their tale! We evade! We escape! And when they demand we obey their whys—we vanish!”

By now, half the class had abandoned their movements entirely, mesmerized by the absurdity. The other half valiantly continued the Space taichi routine while inching away.

Master Gou finally closed the form, then sighed intently, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let us… return to our breath.”

More Mass Lunacy 

It started as a low murmur, a shifting agitation in the crowd. Then, bickering erupted like a solar flare.

“I can’t find my center with all this noise!”
“Oh shut up, you’ve never had a center.”
“Who took my water flask?!”
“Why is this man so close to me?!”
“I am FLOATING?! HELP!”

Synthia’s calm, omnipresent voice chimed in overhead.

“For your well-being, an emergency dose of equilibrium supplements will be dispensed.”

Small white pills rained from overhead dispensers.

Instead of calming people down, this only increased the chaos.

Some took the pills immediately, while others refused on principle.
Someone accused the Lexicans of hoarding pills.
Two men got into a heated debate over whether taking the pills was an act of submission to the AI overlords.
A woman screamed that her husband had vanished, only to be reminded that he left her twelve years ago.
Someone swore they saw a moon-sized squid in the sky.

The Unions and the Leopards

Near the edges of the room, two quadrant bosses from different labor unions were deep in mutual grumbling.

“Bloody management.”
“Agreed, even if they don’t call themselves that any longer, it’s still bloody management.”
“Damn right. MICRO-management.”
“Always telling us to be more efficient, more aligned, more at peace.”
“Yeah, well, who the hell voted for peace?! I preferred it when we just argued in the corridors!”

One of them scowled. “That’s the problem, mate. We fought for this, better conditions, and what did we get? More rules, more supervisors! Who knew that the Leopards-Eating-People’s-Faces Party would, y’know—eat our own bloody faces?!”

The other snorted. “We demanded stability, and now we have so much stability we can’t move without filling out a form with all sorts of dumb questions. You know I have to submit a motion request before taking a piss?”

“…seriously?”

“Dead serious. Takes an eternity to fill. And four goddamn business hours for approval.”

“That’s inhumane.”

“Bloody right it is.”

At that moment, Synthia’s voice chimed in again.

“Please be advised: Temporary gravitational shifts are normal during orbital adjustments. Equilibrium supplements have been optimized. Kindly return to your scheduled calm.”

The Slingshot Begins

The whole ship gave a lurch, a gravitational hiccup as Helix 25 completed its slingshot maneuver around the celestial body.

Bodies swayed unnaturally. Some hovered momentarily, shrieking.
Someone declared that they had achieved enlightenment.
Someone else vomited.

Master Gou sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “We should invent retirement for old Masters. People can’t handle their shit during those Moonacies. Months of it ahead, better focus on breath more.”

Snoot Lady, still unaffected, spread her arms wide and declared:
“And so, the rabbit prevails once again!”

Evie, passing by on her way to the investigation, took one look at the scene of absolute madness and turned right back around.

“Yeah. Nope. Not this morning. Back to the Murder Board.”

Klyutch Base – an Unknown Signal

The flickering green light on the old console pulsed like a heartbeat.

Orrin Holt leaned forward, tapping the screen. A faint signal had appeared on their outdated long-range scanners—coming from the coastline near the Black Sea. He exchanged a glance with Commander Koval, the no-nonsense leader of Klyutch Base.

“That can’t be right,” muttered Janos Varga, Solara’s husband who was managing the coms’ beside him. “We haven’t picked up anything out of the coast in years.”

Koval grunted like an irate bear, then exhaled sharply. “It’s not our priority. We already lost track of the fools we were following at the border. Let them go. If they went south, they’ve got bigger problems.”

Outside, a distant roar sliced through the cold dusk—a deep, guttural sound that rattled the reinforced windows of the command room.

Orrin didn’t flinch. He’d heard it before.

It was the unmistakable cry of a pack of sanglions— лев-кабан lev-kaban as the locals called the monstrous mutated beasts, wild vicious boars as ferocious as rabid lions that roamed Hungary’s wilds— and they were hunting. If the escapees had made their way there, they were as good as dead.

“Can’t waste the fuel chasing ghosts,” Koval grunted.

But Orrin was still watching the blip on the screen. That signal had no right to be there, nothing was left in this region for years.

“Sir,” he said slowly, “I don’t think this is just another lost survivor. This frequency—it’s old. Military-grade. And repeating. Someone wants to be found.”

A beat of silence. Then Koval straightened.

“You better be right Holt. Everyone, gear up.”

Merdhyn – Lazurne Coastal Island — The Signal Tossed into Space

Merdhyn Winstrom wiped the sweat from his brow, his fingers still trembling from the final connection. He’d made a ramshackle workshop out of a crumbling fishing shack on the deserted islet near Lazurne. He wasn’t one to pay too much notice to the mess or anythings so pedestrian —even as the smell of rusted metal and stale rations had started to overpower the one of sea salt and fish guts.

The beacon’s old circuitry had been a nightmare, but the moment the final wire sparked to life, he had known that the old tech had awoken: it worked.

The moment it worked, for the first time in decades, the ancient transponder from the crashed Helix 57 lifeboat had sent a signal into the void.

If someone was still out there, something was bound to hear it… it was a matter of time, but he had the intuition that he may even get an answer back.

Tuppence, the chatty rat had returned on his shoulder to nestle in the folds of his makeshift keffieh, but squeaked in protest as the old man let out a half-crazed, victorious laugh.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, you miserable blighter. We just opened the bloody door.”

Beyond the broken window, the coastline stretched into the grey horizon. But now… he wasn’t alone.

A sharp, rhythmic thud-thud-thud in the distance.

Helicopters.

He stepped outside, the biting wind lashing at his face, and watched the dark shapes appear on the horizon—figures moving through the low mist.

Armed. Military-like.

The men from the nearby Klyutch Base had found him.

Merdhyn grinned, utterly unfazed by their weapons or the silent threat in their stance. He lifted his trembling, grease-stained hands and pointed back toward the wreckage of Helix 57 behind him.

“Well then,” he called, voice almost cheerful, “reckon you lot might have the spare parts I need.”

The soldiers hesitated. Their weapons didn’t lower.

Merdhyn, however, was already walking toward them, rambling as if they’d asked him the most natural of questions.

“See, it’s been a right nightmare. Power couplings were fried. Comms were dead. And don’t get me started on the damn heat regulators. But you lot? You might just be the final missing piece.”

Commander Koval stepped forward, assessing the grizzled old man with the gleam of a genuine mad genius in his eyes.

Orrin Holt, however, wasn’t looking at the wreck.

His eyes were on the beacon.

It was still pulsing, but its pulse had changed — something had been answering back.

Helix 25 – Crusades in the Cruise & Unexpected Archives

Evie hadn’t planned to visit Seren Vega again so soon, but when Mandrake slinked into her quarters and sat squarely on her console, swishing his tail with intent, she took it as a sign.

“Alright, you smug little AI-assisted furball,” she muttered, rising from her chair. “What’s so urgent?”

Mandrake stretched leisurely, then padded toward the door, tail flicking. Evie sighed, grabbed her datapad, and followed.

He led her straight to Seren’s quarters—no surprise there. The dimly lit space was as chaotic as ever, layers of old records, scattered datapads, and bound volumes stacked in precarious towers. Seren barely looked up as Evie entered, used to these unannounced visits.

“Tell the cat to stop knocking over my books,” she said dryly. “It never ever listens.”

“Well it’s a cat, isn’t it?” Evie replied. “And he seems to have an agenda.”

Mandrake leaped onto one of the shelves, knocking loose a tattered, old-fashioned book. It thudded onto the floor, flipping open near Evie’s feet. She crouched, brushing dust from the cover. Blood and Oaths: A Romance of the Crusades by Liz Tattler.

She glanced at Seren. “Tattler again?”

Seren shrugged. “Romualdo must have left it here. He hoards her books like sacred texts.”

Evie turned the pages, pausing at an unusual passage. The prose was different—less florid than Liz’s usual ramblings, more… restrained.

A fragment of text had been underlined, a single note scribbled in the margin: Not fiction.

Evie found a spot where she could sit on the floor, and started to read eagerly.

“Blood and Oaths: A Romance of the Crusades — Chapter XII
Sidon, 1157 AD.

Brother Edric knelt within the dim sanctuary, the cold stone pressing into his bones. The candlelight flickered across the vaulted ceilings, painting ghosts upon the walls. The voices of his ancestors whispered within him, their memories not his own, yet undeniable. He knew the placement of every fortification before his enemies built them. He spoke languages he had never learned.

He could not recall the first time it happened, only that it had begun after his initiation into the Order—after the ritual, the fasting, the bloodletting beneath the broken moon. The last one, probably folklore, but effective.

It came as a gift.

It was a curse.

His brothers called it divine providence. He called it a drowning. Each time he drew upon it, his sense of self blurred. His grandfather’s memories bled into his own, his thoughts weighted by decisions made a lifetime ago.

And now, as he rose, he knew with certainty that their mission to reclaim the stronghold would fail. He had seen it through the eyes of his ancestor, the soldier who stood at these gates seventy years prior.

‘You know things no man should know,’ his superior whispered that night. ‘Be cautious, Brother Edric, for knowledge begets temptation.’

And Edric knew, too, the greatest temptation was not power.

It was forgetting which thoughts were his own.

Which life was his own.

He had vowed to bear this burden alone. His order demanded celibacy, for the sealed secrets of State must never pass beyond those trained to wield it.

But Edric had broken that vow.

Somewhere, beyond these walls, there was a child who bore his blood. And if blood held memory…

He did not finish the thought. He could not bear to.”

Evie exhaled, staring at the page. “This isn’t just Tattler’s usual nonsense, is it?”

Seren shook her head distractedly.

“It reads like a first-hand account—filtered through Liz’s dramatics, of course. But the details…” She tapped the underlined section. “Someone wanted this remembered.”

Mandrake, still perched smugly above them, let out a satisfied mrrrow.

Evie sat back, a seed of realization sprouting in her mind. “If this was real, and if this technique survived somehow…”

Mandrake finished the thought for her. “Then Amara’s theory isn’t theory at all.”

Evie ran a hand through her hair, glancing at the cat than at Evie. “I hate it when Mandrake’s right.”

“Well what’s a witch without her cat, isn’t it?” Seren replied with a smile.

Mandrake only flicked his tail, his work here done.

A list of events for reference (WIP)

Date	Matteo	Lucien	Darius	Amei	Elara
Nov 2024	M: Working as a server in Paris; recognizes and cryptically addresses the group at the Sarah Bernhardt Café.	L: Sketching in Paris; begins orchestrating the reunion by sending letters to the group.	D: is back in Paris for the reunion	A: visits Paris for the reunion	E: visits Paris for the reunion from Churchill Guest House (Samphire Hoe), visits a guest house in Kent, back in England for a week weeks/months, all expense paid. Mrs Lovejoy the landlady.
Spring 2024	M: In Avignon, works at a vineyard. Finds a map. Crosses path with Lucien. Moves to next job in Paris.	L: Visits Avignon. Caught in debt to Monsieur Renard; creates labyrinthine sketches blending personal and mythical themes. Crosses path with Matteo.	D: by June 2024 sends a postcard to Amei, Is seen in Goa	A: Her daughter Tabitha is in Goa teaching	E: is retired in Tuscany, living with Florian, a distant relative met through family research. Summer 2024 (Olympics) has a strange dream at CERN learning about the death of her mother who’d actually died in her youth. She reminisces about chalkapocalypse.
Feb 2024	M:In London, works for a moving company. Crosses path with Amei and Tabitha.	L: Is implied he is caught back into the schemes of M. Renard to pay his debts.	D:	A: Moves from her London home to a smaller apartment in London; reflects on her estranged friends and past. Crosses path with Matteo.	E:
Dec 2023	M:In Avignon, considers moving to a job in London to support his mother’s care.	L: Going with the alias “Julien”, he is recognized in the streets, after 3 years of self-imposed exile, to escape M. Renard & Eloïse.	D: Resumes his travels on his own terms	A: Buys candles, reflects on leaving.	E:
Nov 2023	M: His mother requires more care, he goes to Avignon regularly where she is in care. Breaks up with Juliette end of summer.	L:	D: moves on from Guadeloupe, where he spent time rebuilding homes and reflecting.	A:	E:
early 2023	M: Visits Valencia and Xàtiva, hometown of the Borgias with Juliette; she makes him discover Darius’ videos.	L:	D: Lives in South of France, returns to Guadeloupe after hurricane Fiona.	A:	E:
Dec 2022	M: New year’s eve, Matteo discovers about Elara’s work on memory applicable to early stage Alzheimer with  sensory soundwaves stimuli and ancestral genetic research.	L:	D: Runs a wellness channel. Goes back to Paris, breaks ties with M. Renard & Eloïse. Receives an invitation to see friends in South of France	A: Lives with Paul	E:
early 2022	M: Lives in Paris with Juliette, travels to many places together, week-ends getaways in London, Amsterdam, Rome…	L:	D:	A:	E: Early May, pandemic restrictions were largely over. Florian, her distant relative, moves in to Elara’s Tuscan farmhouse, where she is enjoying retirement.
end of 2021	M:	L: After the pandemic lockdown thinks of a way to escape. Goes by the alias “Julien”	D: Locked down in Budapest; sketches empty streets, sends postcards to Amei to maintain emotional connections.	A:	E: Dec. 2021, first Christmas in Tuscany Nov – end of Genealogix royalties from her successful patent, taken over by more efficient AI algorithms. She gives the idea to Darius of looking for 1-euro housing.
beginning 2021	M:	L: Third & last wave of lockdown measures in France	D:	A:	E:
2020	M:	L:	D:	A:	E:
beg. 2020	M:	L: Pandemic starts – first waves of lockdown	D:	A:	E:
Nov 2019	M: Last group meeting before the Nov 2024 reunion	L: Last group meeting before the Nov 2024 reunion	D: Last group meeting before the Nov 2024 reunion	A: Last group meeting before the Nov 2024 reunion	E: Last group meeting before the Nov 2024 reunion
2019	M: Plans for his mother / co-housing project	L: Spring break in Andalucia with Elara	D: Spring break in Andalucia with Elara	A: Spring break in Andalucia with Elara	E: Spring, before pandemic; visit in Andalucia to her father – joined by Lucien & Amei ; Darius tried to bring those people (M. Renard & Eloïse presumably) to see the hidden pyramid
ca. 2014	M:	L:	D:	A:	E: chalkapocalypse, before Elara’s retirement. She is employed in Warwick. Before that, lived from short term teaching contracts mostly, enabling her to travel. She learned Spanish when she moved with her father to Spain 30 years ago, working in an English school for expats, improved her French while working in Paris, moved to Warwick to be near her sister Vanessa thinking she would settle there.
2010	M:	L:	D:	A:	E: Genealogix became unexpectedly lucrative when it was picked up by a now-dominant genealogy platform around 2010. Every ancestry test sold earned her a modest but steady royalty, which for a time, gave her the freedom to pursue less practical research.
2007	M:	L: Meets Elara & Amei, Darius a concert of Eliane Radigue at Aarau, Switzerland	D: Meets Lucien, Elara & Amei a concert of Eliane Radigue at Aarau, Switzerland	A:Accepts Elara’s invitation to go to a concert of Eliane Radigue at Aarau, Switzerland, meets Lucien & Darius there. The group is formed	E:Goes to a concert of Eliane Radigue at Aarau, Switzerland with Amei, meets Lucien & Darius there. The group is formed
before 2007	M:	L:	D:	A:Meets Elara at a gallery in London, Southbank	E: Meets Amei at a gallery, London Southbank

From Decay to Birth: a Map of Paths and Connections

7. Darius’s Encounter (November 2024)

Moments before the reunion with Lucien and his friends, Darius was wandering the bouquinistes along the Seine when he spotted this particular map among a stack of old prints. The design struck him immediately—the spirals, the loops, the faint shimmer of indigo against yellowed paper.

He purchased it without hesitation. As he would examine it more closely, he would notice faint marks along the edges—creases that had come from a vineyard pin, and a smudge of red dust, from Catalonia.

When the bouquiniste had mentioned that the map had come from a traveler passing through, Darius had felt a strange familiarity. It wasn’t the map itself but the echoes of its journey— quiet connections he couldn’t yet place.

 

6. Matteo’s Discovery (near Avignon, Spring 2024)

The office at the edge of the vineyard was a ruin, its beams sagging and its walls cracked. Matteo had wandered in during a quiet afternoon, drawn by the promise of shade and a moment of solitude.

His eyes scanned the room—a rusted typewriter, ledgers crumbling into dust, and a paper pinned to the wall, its edges curling with age. Matteo stepped closer, pulling the pin free and unfolding what turned out to be a map.

Its lines twisted and looped in ways that seemed deliberate yet impossible to follow. Matteo traced one path with his finger, feeling the faint grooves where the ink had sunk into the paper. Something about it unsettled him, though he couldn’t say why.

Days later, while sharing a drink with a traveler at the local inn, Matteo showed him the map.

“It’s beautiful,” the traveler said, running his hand over the faded indigo lines. “But it doesn’t belong here.”

Matteo nodded. “Take it, then. Maybe you’ll figure it out.”

The traveler left with the map that night, and Matteo returned to the vineyard, feeling lighter somehow.

 

5. From Hand to Hand (1995–2024)

By the time Matteo found it in the spring of 2024, the map had long been forgotten, its intricate lines dulled by dust and time.

2012: A vineyard owner near Avignon purchased it at an estate sale, pinning it to the wall of his office without much thought.

2001: A collector in Marseille framed it in her study, claiming it was a lost artifact of a secret cartographer society, though she later sold it when funds ran low.

1997: A scholar in Barcelona traded an old atlas for it, drawn to its artistry but unable to decipher its purpose.

The map had passed through many hands over the previous three decades and each owner puzzling over, and finally adding their own meaning to its lines.

 

4. The Artist (1995)

The mapmaker was a recluse, known only as Almadora to the handful of people who bought her work. Living in a sunlit attic in Girona, she spent her days tracing intricate patterns onto paper, claiming to chart not geography but connections.

“I don’t map what is,” she once told a curious buyer. “I map what could be.”

In 1995, Almadora began work on the labyrinthine map. She used a pale paper from Girona and indigo ink from India, layering lines that seemed to twist and spiral outward endlessly. The map wasn’t signed, nor did it bear any explanations. When it was finished, Almadora sold it to a passing merchant for a handful of coins, its journey into the world beginning quietly, without ceremony.

 

3. The Ink (1990s)

The ink came from a different path altogether. Indigo plants, or aviri, grown on Kongarapattu, were harvested, fermented, and dried into cakes of pigment. The process was ancient, perfected over centuries, and the resulting hue was so rich it seemed to vibrate with unexplored depth.

From the harbour of Pondicherry, this particular batch of indigo made its way to an artisan in Girona, who mixed it with oils and resins to create a striking ink. Its journey intersected with Amei’s much later, when remnants of the same batch were used to dye textiles she would work with as a designer. But in the mid-1990s, it served a singular purpose: to bring a recluse artist’s vision to life.

 

2. The Paper (1980)

The tree bore laughter and countless other sounds of nature and passer-by’s arguments for years, a sturdy presence, unwavering in a sea of shifting lives. Even after the farmhouse was sold, long after the sisters had grown apart, the tree remained. But time is merciless, even to the strongest roots.

By 1979, battered by storms and neglect, the great tree cracked and fell, its once-proud form reduced to timber for a nearby mill.

The tree’s journey didn’t end in the mill; it transformed. Its wood was stripped, pulped, and pressed into paper. Some sheets were coarse and rough, destined for everyday use. But a few, including one particularly smooth and pale sheet, were set aside as high-quality stock for specialized buyers.

This sheet traveled south to Catalonia, where it sat in a shop in Girona for years, its surface untouched but full of potential. By the time the artist found it in the mid-1990s, it had already begun to yellow at the edges, carrying the faint scent of age.

 

1. The Seed (1950s)

It began in a forgotten corner of Kent, where a seed took root beneath a patch of open sky. The tree grew tall and sprawling over decades, its branches a canopy for birds and children alike. By 1961, it had become the centerpiece of the small farmhouse where two young sisters, Vanessa and Elara, played beneath its shade.

“Elara, you’re too slow!” Vanessa called, her voice sharp with mock impatience. Elara, only six years old, trailed behind, clutching a wooden stick she used to scratch shapes into the dirt. “I’m making a map!” she announced, her curls bouncing as she ran to catch up.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, already halfway up the tree’s lowest branch. “You and your maps. You think you’re going somewhere?”

The Potters of Darley Bridge

Rebecca Knowles 1745-1823, my 5x great grandmother, married Charles Marshall 1742-1819, the churchwarden of Elton, in Darley, Derbyshire, in 1767. Rebecca was born in Darley in 1745, the youngest child of Roger Knowles 1695-1784, and Martha Potter 1702?-1772.

Although Roger and Martha were both from Darley, they were married in South Wingfield by licence in 1724. Roger’s occupation on the marriage licence was lead miner. (Lead miners in Derbyshire at that time usually mined their own land.) Jacob Potter signed the licence so I assumed that Jacob Potter was her father.

 

 

I then found the will of Jacobi Potter who died in 1719. However, he signed the will James Potter. Jacobi is latin for James. James Potter mentioned his daughter Martha in his will “when she comes of age”. Martha was the youngest child of James. James also mentioned in his will son James AND son Jacob, so there were both James’s and Jacob’s in the family, although at times in the documents James is written as Jacobi!

 

 

Jacob Potter who signed Martha’s marriage licence was her brother Jacob.

Martha’s brother James mentioned his sister Martha Knowles in his 1739 will, as well as his brother Jacob and his brother Joseph.

 

 

Martha’s father James Potter mentions his wife Ann in his 1719 will. James Potter married Ann Waterhurst in 1690 in Wirksworth, some seven miles from Darley. James occupation was innkeeper at Darley Bridge.

I did a search for Waterhurst (there was only a transcription available for that marriage, not a microfilm) and found no Waterhursts anywhere, but I did find many Warhursts in Derbyshire. In the older records, Warhust is also spelled Wearhurst and in a number of other ways. A Martha Warhurst died in Peak Forest, Derbyshire, in 1681.  Her husbands name was missing from the deteriorated register pages.  This may or may not be Martha Potter’s grandmother: the records for the 1600s are scanty if they exist at all, and often there are bits missing and illegible entries.

The only inn at Darley Bridge was The Three Stags Heads, by the bridge. It is now a listed building, and was on a medieval packhorse route. The current building was built in 1736, however there is a late 17th century section at rear of the cross wing. The Three Stags Heads was up for sale for £430,000 in 2022, the closure a result of the covid pandemic.

 

 

Another listed building in Darley Bridge is Potters Cottage, with a plaque above the door that says “Jonathan and Alice Potter 1763”. Jonathan Potter 1725-1785 was James grandson, the son of his son Charles Potter 1691-1752. His son Charles was also an innkeeper at Darley Bridge: James left the majority of his property to his son Charles.

 

 

Charles is the only child of James Potter that we know the approximate date of birth, because his age was on his grave stone.  I haven’t found any of their baptisms, but did note that many Potters were baptised in non conformist registers in Chesterfield.

 

Potters Cottage

 

Jonathan Potter of Potters Cottage married Alice Beeley in 1748.

“Darley Bridge was an important packhorse route across the River Derwent. There was a packhorse route from here up to Beeley Moor via Darley Dale. A reference to this bridge appears in 1504… Not far to the north of the bridge at Darley Dale is Church Lane; in 1635 it was known as Ghost Lane after a Scottish pedlar was murdered there. Pedlars tended to be called Scottish only because they sold cheap Scottish linen.”

via Derbyshire Heritage website.

According to Wikipedia, the bridge dates back to the 15th century.

When Xavier woke up, the sun was already shining, its rays darting in pulsating waves throughout the land, blinding him. The room was already heating up, making the air difficult to breathe.

He’d heard the maid rummaging in the neighbouring rooms for some time now, which had roused him from sleep. He couldn’t recall seeing any “DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the doorknob, so staying in bed was only delaying the inevitable barging in of the lady who was now vacuuming vigorously in the corridor.

Feeling a bit dull from the restless sleep, he quickly rose from the bed and put on his clothes.

Once out of his room, he smiled at the cleaning lady (who seemed to be the same as the cooking lady), who harumphed back as a sort of greeting. Arriving in the kitchen, he wondered whether it was probably too late for breakfast —until he noticed the figure of the owner, who was quietly watching him through half-closed eyes in her rocking chair.

“Idle should have left some bread, butter and jam to eat if you’re hungry. It’s too late for bacon and sausages. You can help yourself with tea or coffee, there’s a fresh pot on the kitchen counter.”

“Thanks M’am.” He answered, startled by the unexpected appearance.

“No need. Finly didn’t wake you up, did she? She doesn’t like when people mess up her schedule.”

“Not at all, it was fine.” he lied politely, helping himself to some tea. He wasn’t sure buttered bread was enough reward to suffer a long, awkward conversation, given that the lady (Mater, she insisted he’s called him) wasn’t giving him any sign of wanting to leave.

“It shouldn’t be long until your friends come back from the airport. Your other friend, the big lad, he went for a walk around. Idle seems to have sold him a visit to our Gems & Rocks boutique down Main avenue.” She tittered. “Sounds grand when we say it —that’s just the only main road, but it helps with tourists bookings. And Betsy will probably tire him down quickly. She tends to get too excited when she gets clients down there; most of her business she does online now.”

Xavier was done with his tea, and looking for an exit strategy, but she finally seemed to pick up on the signals.

“… As I probably do; look at me wearing you down. Anyway, we have some preparing to do for the Carts & whatnot festival.”

When she was gone, Xavier’s attention was attracted by a small persistent ticking noise followed by some cracking.

It was on the front porch.

A young girl in her thirteens, hoodie on despite the heat, and prune coloured pants, was sitting on the bench reading.

She told him without raising her head from her book. “It’s Aunt Idle’s new pet bird. It’s quite a character.”

“What?”

“The noise, it’s from the bird. It’s been cracking nuts for the past twenty minutes. Hence the noise. And yes, it’s annoying as hell.”

She rose from the bench. “Your bear friend will be back quick I’m certain; it’s just a small boutique with some nice crystals, but mostly cheap orgonite new-agey stuff. Betsy only swears by that, protection for electromagnetic waves and stuff she says, but look around… we are probably got more at risk to be hit by Martian waves or solar coronal mass ejections that by the ones from the telecom tower nearby.”

Xavier didn’t know what to say, so he nodded and smiled. He felt a bit out of his element. When he looked around, the girl had already disappeared.

Now alone, he sat on the empty bench, stretched and yawned while trying to relax. It was so different from the anonymity in the city: less people here, but everything and everyone very tightly knit together, although they all seemed to irk and chafe at the thought.

The flapping of wings startled him.

“Hellooo.” The red parrot had landed on the backrest of the bench and dropped shells from a freshly cracked nut which rolled onto the ground.

Xavier didn’t think to respond; like with AL, sometimes he’d found using polite filler words was only projecting human traits to something unable to respond back, and would just muddle the prompt quality.

“So ruuuude.” The parrot nicked his earlobe gently.

“Ouch! Sorry! No need to become aggressive!”

“You arrrre one to talk. Rouge is on Yooour forehead.”

Xavier looked surprised at the bird in disbelief. Did the bird talk about the mirror test? “What sort of smart creature are you now?”

“Call meee Rose. Pretty Giiirl acceptable.”

Xavier smiled. The bird seemed quite fascinating all of a sudden.
It was strange, but the bird seemed left completely free to roam about; it gave him an idea.

“Rose, Pretty Girl, do you know some nice places around you’d like to show me?”

“Of couuurse. Foôllow Pretty Girl.”

Transportation

Isaac Stokes 1804-1877

 

Isaac was born in Churchill, Oxfordshire in 1804, and was the youngest brother of my 4X great grandfather Thomas Stokes. The Stokes family were stone masons for generations in Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire, and Isaac’s occupation was a mason’s labourer in 1834 when he was sentenced at the Lent Assizes in Oxford to fourteen years transportation for stealing tools.

Churchill where the Stokes stonemasons came from: on 31 July 1684 a fire destroyed 20 houses and many other buildings, and killed four people. The village was rebuilt higher up the hill, with stone houses instead of the old timber-framed and thatched cottages. The fire was apparently caused by a baker who, to avoid chimney tax, had knocked through the wall from her oven to her neighbour’s chimney.

Isaac stole a pick axe, the value of 2 shillings and the property of Thomas Joyner of Churchill; a kibbeaux and a trowel value 3 shillings the property of Thomas Symms; a hammer and axe value 5 shillings, property of John Keen of Sarsden.

(The word kibbeaux seems to only exists in relation to Isaac Stokes sentence and whoever was the first to write it was perhaps being creative with the spelling of a kibbo, a miners or a metal bucket. This spelling is repeated in the criminal reports and the newspaper articles about Isaac, but nowhere else).

In March 1834 the Removal of Convicts was announced in the Oxford University and City Herald: Isaac Stokes and several other prisoners were removed from the Oxford county gaol to the Justitia hulk at Woolwich “persuant to their sentences of transportation at our Lent Assizes”.

via digitalpanopticon:

Hulks were decommissioned (and often unseaworthy) ships that were moored in rivers and estuaries and refitted to become floating prisons. The outbreak of war in America in 1775 meant that it was no longer possible to transport British convicts there. Transportation as a form of punishment had started in the late seventeenth century, and following the Transportation Act of 1718, some 44,000 British convicts were sent to the American colonies. The end of this punishment presented a major problem for the authorities in London, since in the decade before 1775, two-thirds of convicts at the Old Bailey received a sentence of transportation – on average 283 convicts a year. As a result, London’s prisons quickly filled to overflowing with convicted prisoners who were sentenced to transportation but had no place to go.

To increase London’s prison capacity, in 1776 Parliament passed the “Hulks Act” (16 Geo III, c.43). Although overseen by local justices of the peace, the hulks were to be directly managed and maintained by private contractors. The first contract to run a hulk was awarded to Duncan Campbell, a former transportation contractor. In August 1776, the Justicia, a former transportation ship moored in the River Thames, became the first prison hulk. This ship soon became full and Campbell quickly introduced a number of other hulks in London; by 1778 the fleet of hulks on the Thames held 510 prisoners.
Demand was so great that new hulks were introduced across the country. There were hulks located at Deptford, Chatham, Woolwich, Gosport, Plymouth, Portsmouth, Sheerness and Cork.

The Justitia via rmg collections:

Convicts perform hard labour at the Woolwich Warren. The hulk on the river is the ‘Justitia’. Prisoners were kept on board such ships for months awaiting deportation to Australia. The ‘Justitia’ was a 260 ton prison hulk that had been originally moored in the Thames when the American War of Independence put a stop to the transportation of criminals to the former colonies. The ‘Justitia’ belonged to the shipowner Duncan Campbell, who was the Government contractor who organized the prison-hulk system at that time. Campbell was subsequently involved in the shipping of convicts to the penal colony at Botany Bay (in fact Port Jackson, later Sydney, just to the north) in New South Wales, the ‘first fleet’ going out in 1788.

 

While searching for records for Isaac Stokes I discovered that another Isaac Stokes was transported to New South Wales in 1835 as well. The other one was a butcher born in 1809, sentenced in London for seven years, and he sailed on the Mary Ann. Our Isaac Stokes sailed on the Lady Nugent, arriving in NSW in April 1835, having set sail from England in December 1834.

Lady Nugent was built at Bombay in 1813. She made four voyages under contract to the British East India Company (EIC). She then made two voyages transporting convicts to Australia, one to New South Wales and one to Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania). (via Wikipedia)

via freesettlerorfelon website:

On 20 November 1834, 100 male convicts were transferred to the Lady Nugent from the Justitia Hulk and 60 from the Ganymede Hulk at Woolwich, all in apparent good health. The Lady Nugent departed Sheerness on 4 December 1834.

SURGEON OLIVER SPROULE

Oliver Sproule kept a Medical Journal from 7 November 1834 to 27 April 1835. He recorded in his journal the weather conditions they experienced in the first two weeks:

‘In the course of the first week or ten days at sea, there were eight or nine on the sick list with catarrhal affections and one with dropsy which I attribute to the cold and wet we experienced during that period beating down channel. Indeed the foremost berths in the prison at this time were so wet from leaking in that part of the ship, that I was obliged to issue dry beds and bedding to a great many of the prisoners to preserve their health, but after crossing the Bay of Biscay the weather became fine and we got the damp beds and blankets dried, the leaks partially stopped and the prison well aired and ventilated which, I am happy to say soon manifested a favourable change in the health and appearance of the men.

Besides the cases given in the journal I had a great many others to treat, some of them similar to those mentioned but the greater part consisted of boils, scalds, and contusions which would not only be too tedious to enter but I fear would be irksome to the reader. There were four births on board during the passage which did well, therefore I did not consider it necessary to give a detailed account of them in my journal the more especially as they were all favourable cases.

Regularity and cleanliness in the prison, free ventilation and as far as possible dry decks turning all the prisoners up in fine weather as we were lucky enough to have two musicians amongst the convicts, dancing was tolerated every afternoon, strict attention to personal cleanliness and also to the cooking of their victuals with regular hours for their meals, were the only prophylactic means used on this occasion, which I found to answer my expectations to the utmost extent in as much as there was not a single case of contagious or infectious nature during the whole passage with the exception of a few cases of psora which soon yielded to the usual treatment. A few cases of scurvy however appeared on board at rather an early period which I can attribute to nothing else but the wet and hardships the prisoners endured during the first three or four weeks of the passage. I was prompt in my treatment of these cases and they got well, but before we arrived at Sydney I had about thirty others to treat.’

The Lady Nugent arrived in Port Jackson on 9 April 1835 with 284 male prisoners. Two men had died at sea. The prisoners were landed on 27th April 1835 and marched to Hyde Park Barracks prior to being assigned. Ten were under the age of 14 years.

The Lady Nugent:

 

Isaac’s distinguishing marks are noted on various criminal registers and record books:

“Height in feet & inches: 5 4; Complexion: Ruddy; Hair: Light brown; Eyes: Hazel; Marks or Scars: Yes [including] DEVIL on lower left arm, TSIS back of left hand, WS lower right arm, MHDW back of right hand.”

Another includes more detail about Isaac’s tattoos:

“Two slight scars right side of mouth, 2 moles above right breast, figure of the devil and DEVIL and raised mole, lower left arm; anchor, seven dots half moon, TSIS and cross, back of left hand; a mallet, door post, A, mans bust, sun, WS, lower right arm; woman, MHDW and shut knife, back of right hand.”

 

 

From How tattoos became fashionable in Victorian England (2019 article in TheConversation by Robert Shoemaker and Zoe Alkar):

“Historical tattooing was not restricted to sailors, soldiers and convicts, but was a growing and accepted phenomenon in Victorian England. Tattoos provide an important window into the lives of those who typically left no written records of their own. As a form of “history from below”, they give us a fleeting but intriguing understanding of the identities and emotions of ordinary people in the past.
As a practice for which typically the only record is the body itself, few systematic records survive before the advent of photography. One exception to this is the written descriptions of tattoos (and even the occasional sketch) that were kept of institutionalised people forced to submit to the recording of information about their bodies as a means of identifying them. This particularly applies to three groups – criminal convicts, soldiers and sailors. Of these, the convict records are the most voluminous and systematic.
Such records were first kept in large numbers for those who were transported to Australia from 1788 (since Australia was then an open prison) as the authorities needed some means of keeping track of them.”

On the 1837 census Isaac was working for the government at Illiwarra, New South Wales. This record states that he arrived on the Lady Nugent in 1835. There are three other indent records for an Isaac Stokes in the following years, but the transcriptions don’t provide enough information to determine which Isaac Stokes it was. In April 1837 there was an abscondment, and an arrest/apprehension in May of that year, and in 1843 there was a record of convict indulgences.

From the Australian government website regarding “convict indulgences”:

“By the mid-1830s only six per cent of convicts were locked up. The vast majority worked for the government or free settlers and, with good behaviour, could earn a ticket of leave, conditional pardon or and even an absolute pardon. While under such orders convicts could earn their own living.”

 

In 1856 in Camden, NSW, Isaac Stokes married Catherine Daly. With no further information on this record it would be impossible to know for sure if this was the right Isaac Stokes. This couple had six children, all in the Camden area, but none of the records provided enough information. No occupation or place or date of birth recorded for Isaac Stokes.

I wrote to the National Library of Australia about the marriage record, and their reply was a surprise! Issac and Catherine were married on 30 September 1856, at the house of the Rev. Charles William Rigg, a Methodist minister, and it was recorded that Isaac was born in Edinburgh in 1821, to parents James Stokes and Sarah Ellis!  The age at the time of the marriage doesn’t match Isaac’s age at death in 1877, and clearly the place of birth and parents didn’t match either. Only his fathers occupation of stone mason was correct.  I wrote back to the helpful people at the library and they replied that the register was in a very poor condition and that only two and a half entries had survived at all, and that Isaac and Catherines marriage was recorded over two pages.

I searched for an Isaac Stokes born in 1821 in Edinburgh on the Scotland government website (and on all the other genealogy records sites) and didn’t find it. In fact Stokes was a very uncommon name in Scotland at the time. I also searched Australian immigration and other records for another Isaac Stokes born in Scotland or born in 1821, and found nothing.  I was unable to find a single record to corroborate this mysterious other Isaac Stokes.

As the age at death in 1877 was correct, I assume that either Isaac was lying, or that some mistake was made either on the register at the home of the Methodist minster, or a subsequent mistranscription or muddle on the remnants of the surviving register.  Therefore I remain convinced that the Camden stonemason Isaac Stokes was indeed our Isaac from Oxfordshire.

 

I found a history society newsletter article that mentioned Isaac Stokes, stone mason, had built the Glenmore church, near Camden, in 1859.

 

From the Wollondilly museum April 2020 newsletter:

 

From the Camden History website:

“The stone set over the porch of Glenmore Church gives the date of 1860. The church was begun in 1859 on land given by Joseph Moore. James Rogers of Picton was given the contract to build and local builder, Mr. Stokes, carried out the work. Elizabeth Moore, wife of Edward, laid the foundation stone. The first service was held on 19th March 1860. The cemetery alongside the church contains the headstones and memorials of the areas early pioneers.”

 

Isaac died on the 3rd September 1877. The inquest report puts his place of death as Bagdelly, near to Camden, and another death register has put Cambelltown, also very close to Camden.  His age was recorded as 71 and the inquest report states his cause of death was “rupture of one of the large pulmonary vessels of the lung”.  His wife Catherine died in childbirth in 1870 at the age of 43.

 

Isaac and Catherine’s children:

William Stokes 1857-1928

Catherine Stokes 1859-1846

Sarah Josephine Stokes 1861-1931

Ellen Stokes 1863-1932

Rosanna Stokes 1865-1919

Louisa Stokes 1868-1844.

 

It’s possible that Catherine Daly was a transported convict from Ireland.

 

Some time later I unexpectedly received a follow up email from The Oaks Heritage Centre in Australia.

“The Gaudry papers which we have in our archive record him (Isaac Stokes) as having built: the church, the school and the teachers residence.  Isaac is recorded in the General return of convicts: 1837 and in Grevilles Post Office directory 1872 as a mason in Glenmore.”

Colney Hatch Lunatic Asylum

William James Stokes

 

William James Stokes was the first son of Thomas Stokes and Eliza Browning. Oddly, his birth was registered in Witham in Essex, on the 6th September 1841.

Birth certificate of William James Stokes:

 

His father Thomas Stokes has not yet been found on the 1841 census, and his mother Eliza was staying with her uncle Thomas Lock in Cirencester in 1841. Eliza’s mother Mary Browning (nee Lock) was staying there too. Thomas and Eliza were married in September 1840 in Hempstead in Gloucestershire.

It’s a mystery why William was born in Essex but one possibility is that his father Thomas, who later worked with the Chipperfields making circus wagons, was staying with the Chipperfields who were wheelwrights in Witham in 1841. Or perhaps even away with a traveling circus at the time of the census, learning the circus waggon wheelwright trade. But this is a guess and it’s far from clear why Eliza would make the journey to Witham to have the baby when she was staying in Cirencester a few months prior.

In 1851 Thomas and Eliza, William and four younger siblings were living in Bledington in Oxfordshire.

William was a 19 year old wheelwright living with his parents in Evesham in 1861. He married Elizabeth Meldrum in December 1867 in Hackney, London. He and his father are both wheelwrights on the marriage register.

Marriage of William James Stokes and Elizabeth Meldrum in 1867:

 

William and Elizabeth had a daughter, Elizabeth Emily Stokes, in 1868 in Shoreditch, London.

On the 3rd of December 1870, William James Stokes was admitted to Colney Hatch Lunatic Asylum. One week later on the 10th of December, he was dead.

On his death certificate the cause of death was “general paralysis and exhaustion, certified. MD Edgar Sheppard in attendance.” William was just 29 years old.

Death certificate William James Stokes:

 

I asked on a genealogy forum what could possibly have caused this death at such a young age. A retired pathology professor replied that “in medicine the term General Paralysis is only used in one context – that of Tertiary Syphilis.”
“Tertiary syphilis is the third and final stage of syphilis, a sexually transmitted disease that unfolds in stages when the individual affected doesn’t receive appropriate treatment.”

From the article “Looking back: This fascinating and fatal disease” by Jennifer Wallis:

“……in asylums across Britain in the late 19th century, with hundreds of people receiving the diagnosis of general paralysis of the insane (GPI). The majority of these were men in their 30s and 40s, all exhibiting one or more of the disease’s telltale signs: grandiose delusions, a staggering gait, disturbed reflexes, asymmetrical pupils, tremulous voice, and muscular weakness. Their prognosis was bleak, most dying within months, weeks, or sometimes days of admission.

The fatal nature of GPI made it of particular concern to asylum superintendents, who became worried that their institutions were full of incurable cases requiring constant care. The social effects of the disease were also significant, attacking men in the prime of life whose admission to the asylum frequently left a wife and children at home. Compounding the problem was the erratic behaviour of the general paralytic, who might get themselves into financial or legal difficulties. Delusions about their vast wealth led some to squander scarce family resources on extravagant purchases – one man’s wife reported he had bought ‘a quantity of hats’ despite their meagre income – and doctors pointed to the frequency of thefts by general paralytics who imagined that everything belonged to them.”

 

The London Archives hold the records for Colney Hatch, but they informed me that the particular records for the dates that William was admitted and died were in too poor a condition to be accessed without causing further damage.

Colney Hatch Lunatic Asylum gained such notoriety that the name “Colney Hatch” appeared in various terms of abuse associated with the concept of madness. Infamous inmates that were institutionalized at Colney Hatch (later called Friern Hospital) include Jack the Ripper suspect Aaron Kosminski from 1891, and from 1911 the wife of occultist Aleister Crowley. In 1993 the hospital grounds were sold and the exclusive apartment complex called Princess Park Manor was built.

Colney Hatch:

 

In 1873 Williams widow married William Hallam in Limehouse in London. Elizabeth died in 1930, apparently unaffected by her first husbands ailment.

Looking for Robert Staley

 

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

Marriage of John Staley and Jane Brothers in 1820:

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

Looking for Robert Staley

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The marriage of Robert Staley and Elizabeth Milner in 1735:

 

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

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

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

The Marsden Connection

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

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

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

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

by
David Dalrymple-Smith

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

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

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

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

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

 

The 1795 will of Robert Staley.

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

The will of Robert Staley, 1795:

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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:

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:

 

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.

 

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:

 

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:

 

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:

 

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: