The German Connection and Chinese Whispers, a postscript to the French Connection and Chinese Whispers.

While following up on whether the second husband of Jacquette Marie Schmaltz could be the Captain of the ship in the story of the apple barrels, some interesting things were discovered.

According to the French researcher Henri Philippe Louis Maurel,  the occupation of Jacquette’s second husband, Jacques le Vieux was as a negotiant/interpreter. Unfortunately, it seems, there is no ship’s captain there. Jacquette’s father, Jean Jacques Boniface Schmaltz was also listed as a negotiant. Curiosity led me to decide to see exactly what this occupation of negotiant entailed in 18th century France. Even though I had never encountered such an occupation in my research, I had a general idea but I wanted to know more about it. A negotiant, it turns out, was a merchant who acted as a middleman. He would obtain and sell goods made by others that he imported from other areas around the country and from other foreign countries. He did not belong to the Guild. On the other hand, an artisan sold his own wares and was a highly respected merchant and member of the Guild. The negotiant was not so well respected because he was not an artisan, but he did have connections, and because of his trade with other countries he was often fluent in other languages – hence his ability to also work as an interpreter. One could imagine he also travelled by ship to purchase his wares … still some room for the apple barrel story.

I used Google to find what I could about these occupations and I also searched on the name Jean Jacques Boniface Schmaltz, mostly finding others researching the name as I was, but there was one book that I had initially ignored as it was written in French. Unfortunately, my French does not go beyond one or two phrases but something made me go back and look at it anyway. The book was titled:

La vie diverse et volontaire du colonel Julien, Désiré Schmaltz, Officier des Forces Indo-Néerlandaises, puis de l’Armée Française, Commandant pour le Roi et Administrateur du Sénégal et Dépendances, Consul Général de France à Smyrne (Turquie), (1771-1827) .

Google translate to the rescue and I had found a nice little gold mine on page 266 about Jean Jacques. The gist of which is:

…The considerable movement of affairs which had been dealt with on the spot had attracted to Lorient not only the French but also many foreigners.

In the middle of the eighteenth century, the German Colony included among its members, a young negotiator named Jean Boniface Schmaltz, son of Pierre Schmaltz, Prevot and Agent of the Grand Chapter of the city of Speyer, capital of Rhineland Palatinate and Catherine Schlukin, of the parish of Saint-Leon de Schaidt, located in the diocese of Speyer.

Was Pierre Schmaltz a native of Speyer or of Alsace, as his grandson asserted? We cannot say. Whatever may have been the case, Jean Boniface Schmaltz undoubtedly manifested his intention of incorporating himself into France by marrying Louise Teissieres-Desclos, born in Lorient, daughter of Charles Francois Teissieres, on August 1, 1761, and by Anne Jacquette of Byrne, in front of the Abbott Charles Allio, and in presence of the parents of the marriage, Francois Rhot (Roth) Director and Commandant of the Port, Germain Guillois, JB Jussares, of Plesix de Jores, and finally of Denise of Byrne, who all signed the register of marriages.

The name of Byrne suggests that the maternal grandfather of Louise Teissieres-Desclos was of Irish origin; that of his father suggests, on the contrary, a Gascon ancestry.

When his fourth son, Desire cut his elementary classes, Jean Boniface Schmaltz of the trading house was one of the richest in the city and, at the foundation of the Consulate in 1782, had been elected a member of this body. He conceived the ambition of making him do his humanities, as it was then called, that is to say his secondary studies. Thanks to influential relations, he had him admitted to the Royal Military School of Tiron, today Thiron -Gardais, not far from Nogent-le-Rotrou, in the Department of Eure-et-Loir.

In spite of its name, this institution had nothing to do with the military. There were nine others and they were, in reality, simple educational establishments led by members of various religious congregations occasionally secured by a few laics.

Speyer is in Germany so, the French Connection becomes a German Connection! Not so surprising as the name Schmaltz sounds German.

The translation took quite some time as I couldn’t cut and paste. I had to transcribe and then copy and paste into Google translate. Very frustrating but I was well pleased with the results of my labour. I also spent some time researching the places mentioned as, in some cases, I needed to understand more about them to enable me to make sense of the, sometimes literal, Google translation. While putting my research notes together, I decided I would also translate the title of the book to use as a source document:

The diverse and voluntary life of Colonel Julien, Désiré Schmaltz, Officer of the Indo-Dutch Forces, then of the French Army, Commander for the King and Administrator of Senegal and Dependencies, Consul General of France in Smyrna (Turkey) (1771- 1827). L. Jore 1953

Senegal jumped out at me! As mentioned in the notes at the end of my previous story, Marie Josephine Furteau (1795 – 1865) was also said to be the niece of the Governor of Senegal, Governor Smalley. She definitely was a niece of Colonel Julien Desire Schmaltz, the subject of the book and according to the title of the book, he was Administrator of Senegal. Administrator is the same as Governor. Chinese whispers had corrupted the name Schmaltz to Smalley! There is always some truth somewhere in every family tradition. I am not quite sure how I am going to go about confirming the apple barrels though.

Picture: Speyer Cathedral original Westwork 1606 by 01:10, 27. Jan. 2008 (CET) (Wallraff-Richartz-Museum, Köln) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons


“Eh, mate do you think she is going to the bottom?” The Voyage of the Darling Downs to Brisbane 1874.

Aboard the ship the Darling Downs were nearly 600 immigrants on their way to a new life in Australia. Amongst them was a young family essential to the story of my family and its history – James Nunn, his wife Louisa and their one year old daughter, Emily. Both James and Louisa were 23 years old and, most likely, because they probably were not able to afford to pay for their own passage, they travelled as assisted emigrants. They had been married in the Chesterton registry office in Cambridge in November 1872 and they departed from London on 25 July 1874. The ship arrived safely in Brisbane on Wednesday 4 November 1874.

James had been working as a fossil digger in the Milton area near Cambridge in Cambridgeshire but was usually employed as an agricultural labourer. At the time, Australia needed men to work on the land, so he was in the right occupation. Fossil digging was actually digging coprolite (dinosaur dung) and it was in great demand as a fertiliser.

In July that year, before the ship departed Gravesend, an inspection of the emigrant ship and its facilities was undertaken by the various Agents-General and other invited ladies and gentlemen. One, using the non de plume of ‘ANGLO-AUSTRALIAN,’ wrote in the European Mail of 7 August 1874 a quite a lengthy article about his visit as a member of this inspection party to the offices of Messrs. Taylor, Bethell, and Roberts who ran an immigration business and about his subsequent visit to the ship. He describes his arrival at the office:

…Well, then, in looking round the office I found “Queensland” in the ascendant. “Emigration to Queensland” above and below. “Emigration to Queensland” all round the walls. The words met you at the doorpost with a sort of welcome smile, and they escorted you fairly into the principal’s office, where they smiled, upon you again in golden characters enriched by a gilt frame, and in close company with them were no end of clippers; also in gilt frames, that had made I don’t know how many of “the fastest passages on record” to both Brisbane and Rockhampton. On the table before me I found an inviting-looking sketch-book filled with views of Queensland scenery, in which I detected the skill in photography of Mr. Daintree, the Agent-General for that colony. They were well-assorted views, too, and calculated to give an inquirer just the kind of information he would be in search of, while their inviting aspect I would very likely determine him to make Queensland his home.

Later as they approached the Darling Downs as it was moored, he described his impressions of her:

 …Seen from the shore she looked like “a painted ship upon a painted ocean,” and the keen eye of a sailor would have been gratified with her trim and lines, and he would pronounce her to be a model ship. Her masts are not tapering and out of proportion to the hull, neither are her yards sprawling all over the ship, but everything, from royals to keel, appear to have been constructed with so much regard to unity in design that the result is a combination as near perfection as is possible to realise.

 They then boarded the vessel whereupon ‘Anglo-Australian’ observed:

 …Once on board I found everything open to inspection, and as I was expected to “inspect,” I went about the work in earnest. Messrs. Taylor, Bethell and Roberts seemed most anxious to provide the best possible arrangements for the comfort of the emigrants, and having devoted much care and attention to this subject, they were naturally desirous that what they had done should have the approval of some of the most practical judges in these matters…We found that the arrangements with regard to the disposition of the people were pretty much the same as obtain on board of other emigrant ships, the single men being for’ard, the married people amidships and the girls aft. The fittings, however, were of a superior class, and evidenced care in selection. The married people’s berths were so arranged as to secure to the occupants the privacy of saloon passengers. They were entered from end to end, ingress in each case being reversed, while at the point of entrance there was a curtain which protected the occupants, from observation. This arrangement contributes as much to the comfort as to the morals of the passengers. We found the space “tween decks” to be more than is usual in emigrant ships, and that ventilation was still further provoked by numerous air canvas shafts, which, working in windmill, fashion, sent a free current throughout the ship. The other sanitary arrangements were equally good— while the hospitals, instead of being below, were placed on deck: that for the girls being near the poop, and that for the men and women amidships, abaft the galley. Next to the galley and affiliated in some respect to it, we found an apparatus for condensing water at the rate of one thousand gallons in twenty-four hours, so that the emigrants are not likely to go short of water. Thus we found everything in order. We next inspected the provisions, and found the pork and beef fit for a nobleman’s table. The biscuits, currants, cheese, bacon, tea, &c, were all equally good, and we ascended to the deck with the conviction that Messrs. Taylor, Bethell, and Roberts had done more than was in the bond.

Following the inspection they were treated to “quite a little banquet” partaken by some twenty to thirty or so ladies and gentlemen that were well able to satisfy the appetite they had worked up in doing their inspections.

Finally, after a voyage of approximately 102 days, the Darling Downs entered the harbour of Brisbane on 5 November 1874. It was a ship of 1634 tons, carrying 582 immigrants and was under the command of Captain D.R. Bolt.


Photo: Captain Bolt with permission Gary Parker, photographer unknown.

A quite detailed report of the arrival was given in the Brisbane Courier on Thursday, November 5, 1874 under the heading “Arrival of the Darling Downs” and is as follows:

 The Government steamer, Kate, with the Immigration Agent on board, left the wharf about half-past six o’clock yesterday morning, to bring up immigrants from the ship Darling Downs. This vessel is one of the same class as the Great Queensland and Indus, being of great size, built of iron, and, although now a sailing vessel, the Darling Downs has had a previous career as a screw-steamer – the Calcutta – in the West Indian passenger trade. Her original capacity has been over 2000 tons register, but, by the removal of the spar deck, which extended from the poop right forward to the forecastle, it has been reduced, and she is now registered at 1633 tons. Although a vessel of great length, the immense width of beam deceives the eye when one is on board, and makes her look rather a short ship than otherwise.

 Immediately on arriving on board, Mr Gray proceeded to make a general inspection of the arrangement of passengers and fittings of the vessel. The surgeon-superintendent, Dr Woodward, accompanied him and explained anything which evoked comment. The first cabin is a part of the original saloon handsomely fitted in mahogany with maple panels, and presented no special features, appearing perhaps to suffer a little as regards ventilation owing to the original plan of the saloon having been greatly contracted to suit the trade to this port. On the same level – that is to say, on the main deck – the single women’s cabin is situated, separated from the first by bulkheads and having access to the poop. Beyond this again is the second-cabin, which opens on to the main deck, as do also the doctor’s dispensary, and the females’ hospital, a pleasant airy cabin in harbor, but we are told not so airy at sea, in consequence of the ports having to be continually closed.

 Down the main hatch are the quarters for the married people, fitted with berths on the new system, which gives a separate entrance to each and away forward are the quarters for the single men, which stretch right below the forecastle. In a general way these arrangements are very excellent; but entire satisfaction does not appear to have been given. The second-cabin passengers complain that they have been deceived as to space, and assert that the cabin was entirely altered in dimensions a day or two before the ship left the docks, and after passages had been paid for. Both the first and second-cabin passengers also complain of the provisions or cooking. The former state that for supplying their table with fresh meat only six sheep and sixteen pigs, which were put on board, they describe as almost sucking pigs as to size, and that all the pigs but two died shortly after the vessel sailed. The cooking, in some instances, has no doubt been bad, as we were shown some bread that had been served out.

 After making a general inspection; the single girls were mustered on their side of the poop, and made to answer to their names and pass down below. A good deal of insight into the disposition of the girls was obtainable even by looking on at the process, as each had her own style of answering to her name, and the question as to whether she had any complaint to make. They were giddy girls and stolid girls, witty girls and stupid girls, forward girls and shy girls, but taken altogether they seemed a fine collection of strong young women with some bright intelligent faces among them.

 The other class of immigrants were passed by name in the same fashion, each individual being asked if he or she had any complaint to make. Excepting the saloon and second-cabin passengers, who appeared from their replies to have signed a formal written complaint, only one or two individuals had grievances, which were patiently listened to by the Immigration Agent. The Surgeon-superintendent received during the day and yesterday very laudatory addresses from the steerage, single girls, and second-cabin passengers.

 The captain left the ship in the Emma shortly before the debarkation was commenced, and his absence was much felt. The crew appeared to have by some means during the day got at the liquors, and set an example of raising a most disgraceful clamor, while the girls and married people were passing over the ship’s bulwarks and on to the Kate. The remaining officers seemed to have lost all control over them. Under pretence of assisting they obstructed the progress of things, one sailor going so far as to dance a sort of impromptu fandango with every girl or woman who stepped from the ship on to the paddle-box of the Kate, where he stood under the pretence of handing them down. It was only after infinite trouble and downright threats of punishment that Mr Gray could succeed in stilling the tumult and disorder. The sailors appeared to care nothing for the officers, and the senior officers seemed utterly indifferent to everything. The juniors assisted in passing the passengers down.

 The Water Police, under Sub-Inspector Wassall, as well as the crew of the Kate, were a splendid contrast to the ship’s crew, and worked steadily and effectively amidst a dreadful uproar, the crew and other men shouting and roaring from the ship’s bulwarks, and a perfect Babel of tongues in every direction. Mr Gray stood all the time on the paddle-box of the Kate, vigorously endeavouring to keep things straight, and to get the officers of the ship to silence and remove their men. He found it necessary ultimately to resort to extreme measures, and instruct Mr Wassall to take his men on board the ship, and put at any rate one man in irons. By this means order was restored.

 Certain property found on one of the sailors so treated appeared to tally with some reported missing during the day. It was stated to us by numerous steerage passengers that, except biscuit, they had not a single meal provided during the entire day. The ship’s arrangements yesterday would seem altogether to have been most negligent. Immediately on reaching the Immigration Depot a substantial meal was placed on the tables, and although somewhat in the rough was plentiful, a tolerably fair specimen of Queensland generally.

 As the Kate could not convey all the passengers at one trip, the single men were left on board, and will be brought up this forenoon, together with the bulk of the luggage, by the Settler, which proceeded to the Bay last night towing the Zoroaster.

As mentioned, it seems the crew of the Darling Downs rather liked their liquor. In the Brisbane Courier of 26 November 1874 it was reported that in the Water Police Court of Wednesday, November 25 ‘William Hampton, Thomas Warrell, W McNeill, Thomas Turner, Thomas Miller and Peter de Young were charged with disobedience of lawful orders on board the ship Darling Downs on the 23rd instant’. Inspector Wassal, on boarding the ship, found them all drunk. However the case was dismissed.

While there are no records of James and Louisa’s own impressions of the voyage, there is a record of another’s memory of the voyage. One day, while visiting my local historical society I was flicking through their folders of miscellaneous newspaper clippings when much to my surprise, I came to an article from 1924 regarding the voyage of the Darling Downs in 1874. It was the 50th anniversary of the arrival of the ship. Until now, while I had searched for diaries, ships logs etc it had never occurred to me to look any further in newspapers than for reports on and around the exact arrival date of any of my immigrant’s ships. This one little piece of serendipity led me to learn a little more about life for James and Louisa and, in fact, about researching the lives of all my immigrant families.

The article from an unnamed passenger from Bowen Bridge, who when seeing a notice regarding a commemoration of the fiftieth anniversary of the voyage, was prompted to write on 16 November 1924 to the Brisbane Courier about the voyage. Some of his memories are as follows:

 First of all we started from the docks (East India Docks) and got as far as Gravesend and after swinging round and round for three days, we made for the Channel and after filling and tacking for 11 days, and cutting a fishing smack in two, we struck out for the open sea. Everything went well until we got into the roaring forties and then the fun commenced. There was roaring and rolling with a vengeance. While leaning over the side, I remember a tall Irishman came to me and said “Eh, mate do you think she is going to the bottom?” I answered “Of course not,” notwithstanding I had some misgivings myself. We got through that safely, and things were going fairly smooth for some time when complaints were made about the passengers’ cook and the purser.

 The complaints about the cook were for spoiling the food, boiling the meat to death to get as much fat as possible, sending up the plum-duff half cooked, and various other things that seemed to make the complaints justified. In the end Dr Woodward came forward with the Captain to investigate and after considerable abuse from the cook the doctor ordered him to be put in irons until the end of the voyage. There was a bit of determination in the doctor that morning, and when the order was carried out one of the passengers took the place of the cook. The purser came in for a lively time. He, too, was keeping back some of the rations to make up his perquisites; but when he saw the temper of the passengers he modified himself very considerably for a time.

 I remember one morning a very stiff squall come on all of a sudden, and carried away a couple of sails. Of course all hands were called on deck, but not one sailor would go aloft until a tot of rum was served all round. This the purser had refused up until this time, and I believe if he had not given the men what they wanted that morning they would have thrown him overboard. However, they got double portion, and up they went like monkeys.

 We were a very happy family, and very agreeable among ourselves. Nothing happened beyond what nearly happens to all other passenger ships, such as being driven out of course by contrary winds. When we rounded the Cape of Good Hope and got into the trade winds, we made fairly good running until we sighted the Australian coast. When we came close enough, and anchor was dropped, we were told that we should land the next day. It was amusing to see the bedding and blankets, and every conceivable article thrown overboard. This was more noticeable among the single girls, but to their dismay we had to put back to sea again. The result was they had nothing to lie down upon. At last we got into Moreton Bay, being 116 days out from the London Dock until discharged in the bay. When the single men (the last to leave the good old ship) were off, they gave great cheering for the Captain and the doctor, and even down to the last middy, but when cheers were called for the purser I would rather have got completely out of sight than have heard the boo-hoo’s and groans.

One wonders if, at the time, James and Louisa thought they might be visiting Davey Jones’ Locker as well during their excursion through the Roaring Forties, or whether Louisa had to endure the fandango with a drunken sailor but we will never know.

The following January ex Senior Sergeant Arthur Clark, a 20 year old single male passenger when he emigrated aboard the ship, lent the Brisbane Courier a copy of the postcard picture of the ship for publication. The postcards were sold on board during the voyage.

Like checking the neighbours on a census, it pays to check who else is on the passenger list for I found, among the Saloon passengers, aboard the Darling Downs was also a two year old future famous long range weather forecaster – Inigo Jones. He was travelling with his parents Owen and Emily Jones. I don’t know if James and Louisa ever realised their little connection to him.

When they arrived, James and Louisa settled at Mt Gravatt in Brisbane and they built a house that still stands today at 59 Lumley Street. This street was formerly known as Nunn’s Road. Eight more children were born to them there. James passed away on 14 September 1919 and Louisa on 15 March 1928. Both are buried in the Mt Gravatt cemetery.


Photo: James & Louisa’s residence 59 Lumley St (formerly Nunn’s Rd) Mt Gravatt. Lyn Nunn 2005.


Image (No. 86243) Darling Downs is held by John Oxley Library, State Library of Queensland and is reproduced with the kind permission of SLQ.

Transcriptions are from the Brisbane Courier of 5 Nov 1874 and 27 Nov 1924 and with reference to the Brisbane Courier 26 Nov 1874, 15 Nov 1924 and 14 Jan 1925. Qld. State Library. Telegraph Thursday 15 October 1874, page 3. National Library of Australia ‘Trove’ NB Spelling and grammar as per articles except extra paragraphing that were added to improve comprehension.

Photo of Captain Bolt supplied by and with kind permission Gary Parker, PO Box 89 Albany Creek Qld. Photographer unknown.

 Darling Downs passenger list, 4 Nov, 1874, Qld State Archives.

GRO, Marriage Certificate, James Nunn and Louisa Easy, dated 20 November 1872.

Qld. Registrar General, Death Certificates, no.s 4420/1919 and 3997/1928.

Interviews with W and NR Nunn, grandsons of James and Louisa.


Mary Ellen

Someone posted a postcard of Little Coast Hospital on Facebook the other day and I knew it was a hospital that treated patients with TB (Tuberculosis or Phthisis) as one of my Great, Great Uncles had died there in 1887. It reminded me that my Great Grandmother, Mary Ellen Jeayes (nee Walker) also succumbed to this disease when she was quite young. So I decided to see what I could find out about her treatment since I knew very little about her day to day life. We have no photos either, but her name was ever remembered in the family and my aunt was named for her.

Mary Ellen Walker was the daughter of Alfred Walker and Mary Ann Connelly. She was born 16 March 1866 in Botany Street, Sydney and was the first child of Alfred and Mary Ann, Alfred’s second wife. She had five younger siblings but, sadly, only two survived into adulthood and she also had two half-siblings.

When she was 22 years old, Mary Ellen married Charles Jeayes on 6 June 1888 in Paddington Sydney, just before an economic depression. It was Charles’ brother George who had died of TB in 1887. George had emigrated from Warwickshire England in 1884 and Charles had followed in 1886.

Charles and Mary Ellen lived at Balmain for many years. Charles was a compositor and, although there was an economic depression looming, they must have made ends meet. Within a few short years they had three sons, George Walker (1889), Charles (1890) and my Grandfather, Wilfred Edward (1892). These were the years of a severe depression in Australia (1890 – 1893) and by 1894, within two years of Wilfred’s birth, Mary Ellen had also contracted TB. This must have been a terrible blow to the young family. I can only begin to imagine how they must have felt and the fear Mary Ellen must have had for the fate of her children.

TB has many names – tuberculosis, consumption, pthisis, scrofula and two others I had not heard of before – Pott’s disease and white plague. Apparently in the 19th century, it is said, it was almost the disease of choice. It was slow progressing and therefore provided time to get one’s affairs in order and die a good death! It became a disease representative of temperal wealth and spiritual purity and wealthier women would deliberately pale their skin so as to appear to have it!! I could not imagine though, that Mary Ellen thought so highly of the disease. It was around the time that she was ill that the X-ray was developed, although I doubt she would have had access to such modern diagnostics, but physicians had realised that it was an infectious disease. Sanatoriums had been around for some time and although there was no cure, death rates were starting to drop.

Although sanatoriums were designed for the chronically ill as the hospitals would not take them, my research revealed that some patients, at least in the particular sanatorium that Mary Ellen was placed, did leave. Some were fit enough to return to work, often living on for many years after.

However, Mary Ellen was not so fortunate and she passed away on 16 October 1895 when she was only 28 years old. Her death certificate informed me that she died at Thirlmere Home Picton and that she was buried in the Roman Catholic Cemetery in Picton. I  decided I would like to find out more about Thirlmere Home and, of course my first port of call was a search on the Australian newspaper database Trove. Many articles answered my search.

It seems Thirlmere Home was a hospital set up by Mr J H Goodlet in about 1876 which he maintained from his own funds. That was, at least, until 1893 when an article in the Sydney Morning Herald on 15 September 1893 advertised a public meeting with the aim to raise funds to assist with maintaining the hospital or, Thirlmere Home for Consumptives as it was then called. After 17 years supporting the home from his own funds, I think Mr Goodlet was probably due for some help. The home was for the very poor who could not pay for their care and might otherwise die in the streets.

In the article ‘The Thirlmere Home for Consumptives – A Word for the Helpless’, Sydney Morning Herald, 18 May 1895 and just 7 months before Mary Ellen passed away the home was described as a “little oasis for the consumptive poor”. The setting was described in the following way:

amidst the low green hills of Thirlmere near Picton, there is a pleasant red brick house, standing   in gently sloping paddocks, its near approaches skirted by flower-beds and shrubbery. The house is clean and wholesome, the air all about it dry and bracing, the surrounds peaceful and rustic.

The home accommodated around 36 patients, sometimes including sick children. It does sound like it might be a pleasant place to spend your last days if it could not be with your family. At least far better than dying on the streets so I think I am glad Mary Ellen was there and I am thankful to Mr Goodlet for his generosity. Treatment at that time seemed to be isolation from the rest of the population to prevent spread of the disease, plenty of rest, good food and light exercise outdoors in the fresh air.

The full article appears below. It is rather long but gives a good picture of what the last year of Mary Ellen’s life might have been like. She would have been one of the women mentioned in the article. Other articles told me there were 3 wards – one for women with 12 beds and 2 for men of 10 and 12 beds respectively.

Sydney Morning Herald Saturday 18th May 1895, Pg.5

The Thirlmere home  also had a monthly report published in the Sydney Morning Herald. Mostly this report gave statistics of the number of patients, how many had been admitted, how many had left and how many had died. In the month that my Great Grandfather lost his wife and my Grandfather and his brothers their mother, two patients had died. One was obviously Mary Ellen.

The sadness however, doesn’t end there. Charles was left with 3 little boys to care for aged 6, 4 and 2 years old. Apparently the loss of his wife and brother must have been all too much for Charles and it was believed, by my father, that Charles left his two eldest sons aged 6 and 4 in an orphanage where they were eventually fostered out to quite wealthy families. The younger son, my Grandfather Wilfred, was taken in by Mary Ellen’s brother Edward Walker, who raised him until adulthood. Whatever happened the boys managed to keep in touch.

Uncle “Ted” Walker was married but had no children of his own and it is for him that Wilfred’s son and my father, Edward Walker was named. It is not known what happened to Charles senior after that – he disappeared, so far without a trace. No further entries appeared in the Post Office Directories of the time and no death has been discovered as yet. His son Charles believed he had returned to England but it is not known on what basis he assumed this.

Rest in Peace Mary Ellen, your boys made it.

Photo: Formerly Thirlmere Home now Goodlet House, Queen Victoria Memorial Home.
Source – Queen Victoria Memorial Home – Heritage Assessment Incorporating Brief Archaeological Assessment of Harmony House – City Plan Heritage July 2013 accessed 30/6/2016


Keeping it in the Family

My Jeayes family are a family with a very uncommon spelling that seems to be concentrated mostly in Warwickshire England particularly in the city of Coventry and to a lesser extent, Rugby. While there are variations and possible links especially to the name Jeays from Leicester, they were educated and usually their name was spelt correctly, at least from the late 18th century onwards.

This particular story however, begins with Luke Jeayes, my fourth great uncle. He is rather well known in Rugby history for many roles, including Master at Elborow School, Parish Clerk and as a successful coal merchant with links further afield in Ealing. He was one of the younger sons of John Jeayes and Mary Steane and was baptised in Coventry on 9th January, 1810.[i]

The Jeayes family and the Steane family have a long history, intertwining together both in Coventry and in Rugby. One wonders, was this due to a lack of suitable partners or was it perhaps an effort to keep their wealth concentrated in the family and, particularly in regard to Luke, his coal merchant business?

Sorting out the relationships in my Steane family puzzle has taken quite a number of years, picking up pieces as new resources became available and, I have to say, not without more than a little help from my friends, but I am finally there, I think!

Firstly, my direct ancestor and father of Luke, was John Jeayes who had married Sarah Steane in 1792 in Stoke.[ii] John and Sarah do not appear to have had any children and it seems Sarah died, as John next makes an appearance in the Coventry records when he, as a widower, married by Banns a new wife, believed to be Sarah’s sister, Mary Steane in 1801. Witnesses were Isaac and Ann Steane.[iii] Mary was baptised in Coventry in 1779, the daughter of Isaac Steane and Sarah Jeffrey.[iv]

Luke grew up in Coventry and he was first apprenticed as a weaver in 1823 through the charity of Mrs Bailey of Coventry to James Richards, weaver, and then assigned from James Richards to his brother, George Jeayes, in 1827.[v] Obviously seeing the need to diversify in an ever changing economic climate, he became Master of Greyfriars Infants School in 1830 and by 1837 he was also a Freeman weaver at Broadgate. [vi]

The census of 1841 shows Luke as a schoolmaster in Frankton with his wife Frances and three of their children.[vii] Luke had married Frances Steane in Coventry in 1834.[viii] She was his first cousin, the daughter of his Uncle Isaac Steane and his wife, Mary Odell.[ix] Sadly, Frances died in January 1861 in Rugby leaving him with a brood of about seven children ranging in age from five to about 25 years old.[x]

Meanwhile, in Middlesex another first cousin of Luke’s, Mary Ann Steane who was born in Buckinghamshire in 1822, had married a soldier, Daniel Dunnett, in 1854.[xi] Mary Ann’s father was another of Luke’s Uncles, Thomas Steane.[xii] Both of Luke’s Uncles, Isaac and Thomas were brothers of Sarah and Mary Steane, his mother, mentioned at the beginning of the story. [xiii]

Luke’s Uncle Thomas had joined the army and it is presumed this is how he came to be living in Buckinghamshire and how Thomas’ daughter Mary Ann met the widowed soldier Daniel. Daniel was a good few years older than Mary Ann, almost 40 in fact and they don’t appear to have had any children before Daniel passed away in 1860 when he was aged 77 years.[xiv] To add to the confusion, Mary Ann also had a brother Thomas, an optician who ran a business in London and later in Rugby.[xv]

The next time the wedding bells pealed in the family was in Oxfordshire in the last few months of 1861 when Luke married another first cousin of both himself and Frances, his, by now, deceased first wife. Yes, this was Mary Ann Dunnett, nee Steane.[xvi] Mary Ann’s father, Thomas, the soldier, seems to have kept in contact with his Coventry family and it appears this must be how they met. After his wife had died in early 1863, Mary Ann’s father moved to Rugby and, at the advanced age of 83, passed away not long after, at the end of 1863.[xvii] It is quite possible he was living with Luke and Mary Ann, as his address was North Street where Luke had his coal business and, being on his own, it makes sense he would go to live with his daughter for his final years.

No doubt through his marriage to Mary Ann, and the close contact the family seemed to keep, Luke’s daughter Mary Jeayes came to meet or know Thomas, the optician mentioned earlier and Mary Ann’s brother. Closer in age as first cousins once removed, they must have got along quite well and were married in St Andrews, Rugby in 1864.[xviii] After their marriage, they then went back to London to live for a few years before moving back to Rugby again by 1875.[xix] Witnesses to the wedding were Mary Ann Jeayes (nee Steane formerly Dunnett) and Luke Jeayes.

To summarise, we have –

John Jeayes marrying two Steane sisters.

Luke Jeayes marrying two of his Steane first cousins who were also first cousins themselves.

Mary Jeayes, the daughter of Steane first cousins, marrying her Steane first cousin once removed.

So, Mary Ann Steane/Dunnett/Jeayes was both a step-Grandmother and Aunt to the children of her brother, Thomas, through his marriage to Luke’s daughter, Mary Jeayes, and her own marriage to Luke. She was also step-mother, sister-in-law and first cousin once removed to Mary Jeayes.

Luke Jeayes passed away in June 1881 in Rugby and is buried in St Andrews.[xx] It wasn’t quite the end of the story though. Mary Ann, his second wife, went on to run the coal business by herself and very well, it seems. She wrote her Will on 5th May, 1899, probably knowing she was seriously ill as she passed away just over a week later. She also is buried in St Andrews and by this time, her brother Thomas had passed away as well. [xxi]

Mary Ann bequeathed in her Will that the coal business be valued and offered for sale to Luke’s daughter, Elizabeth from his first marriage to Frances. Elizabeth was now the wife of James Adolphus Jones and if Elizabeth did not purchase the business within one month, then it was to be sold. Other beneficiaries were Luke’s sons Isaac Herbert and Charles Luke Jeayes and Charles Herbert and Percy Steane, the sons and only issue of Mary Ann’s brother, Thomas, that she referred to as her grandchildren but, as blood relatives, they were actually both her nephews and first cousins twice removed and then step-grandchildren.[xxii]

Mary Ann’s Estate was valued at over £5000 at the time of her death which was quite a considerable amount. Each beneficiary was to receive a one sixth share except Elizabeth, who was to receive two sixths shares.[xxiii] It appears Elizabeth did not purchase the business and it must have been sold to another buyer as in future census’ there is no change in occupation shown. If Mary Ann had not been a Steane, there is a fair possibility that some of Luke’s fortune may have been divided amongst family from outside the clan. Her wealth had increased in the time since Luke’s death when one might not expect it to do so. [xxiv]We will never know if this is something he considered at all, but it has been presented by some as a reason for marriages between cousins.

To bring the story to the present time, Charles Herbert and Percy Steane the grandsons of Luke are, as a consequence of this intermarrying, my second cousins thrice removed, my third cousins thrice removed and my second cousins four times removed.

[i] Parish Registers, Holy Trinity, Coventry, Warwickshire, England, Baptisms, 1745-1812, 9 January, 1810, Luke Jeayes.

[ii] Parish Registers, Stoke Warwickshire 1573-1876, Marriages, 7 November 1792, no. 146 pg. 37, John Jeayes and Sarah Steane.

[iii] Parish Registers, Holy Trinity, Coventry, Marriages 1778-1837, 22 September 1801, no 409 pg. 163, John Jeayes and Mary Steane.

[iv] Parish Registers, Holy Trinity, Coventry, Baptisms, 1745-1812, 10 March 1779, Mary Steane and St Michaels Coventry, Marriages, 28 November 1840, Mary Jeayes, widow, father Isaac Steane, weaver to John Thorneloe, widower, watchmaker, father John Thornloe, Weaver.

[v] Coventry Family History Society, Coventry Apprentice Enrolment Registers, Vol. 4. 1822-1831

[vi]  “Jeayes”(Obit), Kennings Rugby Family Almanac, 1882, Rugby Library and Coventry Apprentice Enrolment Registers, Vol. 5, 1832-1841, Coventry Family History Society

[vii] National Archives, Census of England and Wales, 1841, Frankton Village Warwickshire HO 107/1137 9/3 pg. 1

[viii] Parish Registers, Holy Trinity, Coventry, Marriages 1778-1837, 2 June 1834, No. 150, Pg. 50, Luke Jeayes and Frances Steane.

[ix] Op.cit., Census and other research that supports this argument available from the author.

[x] Rugby Family History Group, Rugby Burial Transcriptions, St Andrews entry no. 1473 10 Jan 1861 Frances Jeayes

[xi] GRO, Marriage Certificate, Entry No. 407?, 9 Sept 1854, Daniel Dunnett and Mary Ann Steane.

[xii] National Archives, Census of England & Wales, 1841, Wotten Underwood Buckinghamshire HO 107/39 22/3   Pg. 1

[xiii] LDS Family Search, IGI, Holy Trinity Coventry, Baptisms, Thomas Steane, 17 Aug 1780, Isaac Steane, 22 Oct 1781, Mary Steane, 10 March 1779 and St John Coventry, Baptisms Sarah Steane, 26 July 1773.

[xiv] National Probate Calendars, Wills 1860, Daniel Dunnett 28 Nov 1860, pg. 194. QFHS.

[xv] National Archives, Census of England & Wales, 1841-1881, various addresses in London & Rugby.

[xvi] The Free BMD Database, GRO, Marriage Index Transcriptions 1837-1983, Dec Qtr 1861, 3a 973 Oxford District,

[xvii] GRO, Death Certificates, Reg No. 171, 16 Sept 1863, Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, Mary Steane and Reg No 239, 16 Dec 1863, Rugby Warwickshire, Thomas Steane

[xviii], ‘St Andrews, Rugby Parish Registers’, Marriages, No. 352, 27 June 1864 Thomas Steane and Mary Jeayes.

[xix], ‘St Andrews, Parish Registers, Baptisms, P. 97 no. 774  15 Jan 1875, Percy Steane

[xx] National Probate Calendars, Wills, 1881, Luke Jeayes, Effects £3762.0.6d , 8 Sept 1881 p. 68. QFHS and Rugby Family History Group, Rugby Burials Transcriptions, St Andrews entry no. 2882, Luke Jeayes, 22 June 1881.

[xxi] The Free BMD Database, GRO, Death Index Transcriptions 1837-1983, Sept Qtr 1886, 6d 326, Rugby District,

[xxii] Jeayes, Mary Anne of Rugby Warwickshire Widow, Probate Birmingham, 27 July 1899, Copy held by author.

[xxiii] ibid.

[xxiv] Op.cit., National Probate Calendars, Wills, Luke Jeayes.

Photo : Luke Jeayes c. 1850-1859

Donor ref:T, B JEA, img: 7667 (3/6950)

Source: Libraries Heritage and Trading Standards, Warwickshire County Council

The Biscuit Barrel

The piece of WW1 Trench Art in the picture was originally owned by my Great Uncle, Lieutenant James Bernard Smith (1893-1980) of Glen Innes, NSW. It is a wooden barrel with lid reminiscent of a biscuit barrel, circa 1918. The badge inscription reads “Made from propellor of a German aeroplane captured at Rayak Palestine Nov 1918”.

For as long as I could remember growing up, it sat on the mantelpiece above the unused fireplace, that is until my parents moved house whereupon it had a variety of places before it eventually came to me. My mother told me it had originally belonged to Uncle Jim Smith, husband of her mother’s sister, Annie who was a soldier in World War I but the story behind the badge inscription had always intrigued me – why would a soldier have, let alone be allowed to keep, a propeller from a German plane and what was he doing in Palestine? No-one could answer me.

Uncle Jim Smith had married my grandmother’s sister, Annie Tincknell in 1923 while his cousin, Alexander Morris Smith had married Annie’s youngest sister, Hilda in 1929. The barrel has been a rather treasured possession in our family since it passed into the possession of Hilda Smith (nee Tincknell) sometime after Jim’s wife, Annie died in 1927. Hilda then passed it on to her niece and my mother, Joan, in the 1960s and it passed into the possession of me, her daughter, for safekeeping in the 1980s. Jim and Annie did not have any children, so the barrel has been passed on only to trusted persons in the family who could be relied on to care for it. It makes a really useful ornamental knick knack box to store small items and that has always been what it was used for. I doubt very much that it would be very successful as a biscuit barrel.

Learning about museums at University encouraged me to research Uncle Jim, the barrel and the history of trench art a little more. I discovered that, in spite of its name, trench art was rarely actually made in the trenches. However, pieces of scrap material, faulty ammunition and other “trophies of war” like the propellers of captured aeroplanes were often fashioned into souvenirs during quiet times, a period of convalescence or after a return home from combat. Decorated objects made of war materials from 1914 onward are those commonly known as trench art even though it has been a common past time of soldiers and sailors for centuries. The objects they made usually had a personal and, sometimes, spiritual significance to the owners recalling their experiences of war. I have many other examples from my father and his time in the Navy during the Second World War.

Our barrel though is a more unusual example of trench art, as the items usually crafted from wooden propellers were photo frames, clocks and boxes. It is also a highly skilled piece of craftsmanship in its own right but is unknown whether Uncle Jim actually made it himself or had someone else make it for him.  Research into other collections has not revealed anything of similar shape.

James Bernard Smith was 21 years old when he joined the A.I.F. He was one of the original ANZACs arriving at Gallipoli on 16 May 1915 and remained there to be one of the very last to leave during the evacuation in December.  Life and death situations would have been his experience many times over. He, himself, was wounded in action in the Middle East in July 1918 and he was also mentioned in despatches. After recovering from his wounds he was then seconded to 1st Squadron Australian Flying Corps and this would explain how the propeller, or part of it, came to be in his possession. Most certainly the barrel would have had special personal and spiritual significance for him as a reminder of his time in Palestine and his experiences throughout the war.

His barrel also has spiritual and historical significance for us, his indirect family, and for others who view it, as they are reminded that he was one of many who volunteered to serve in the Great War and endured its horrific battlefield conditions. Along with other examples of trench art, it is an object of remembrance to honour and respect the sacrifices of soldiers of war, especially in the Great War, and the initiation of Australia as a nation.

The badge needs to be analysed further to ascertain its material as it may have been made from metal also belonging to the plane. This is often a feature of trench art made from aeroplane material. Also its association with Palestine seems to be unusual. As is the case with this piece, Trench Art is mostly found in private collections. However, since the end of World War II, personal memories and the popularity of Trench Art has dwindled with much of it returning to the scrap heap from whence it came, all the more adding to its historical value and significance. Eventually, in time, I will pass it, along with the story, on to one of my family.



The French Connection and Chinese Whispers

Cornelia Powne Gully was born on the island of Mauritius in 1815. Her parents were William Slade Gully and Marie Josephine Furteaux. She married John Garland Cregoe in 1841 and  there were five children from that marriage before John died in 1854. She later married her childhood sweetheart, Clement Winstanley Carlyon in 1868 after he became a widower. One wonders why she didn’t marry him in the first place but obviously there must have been reasons and one could speculate about all sorts of scenarios.

However, what was more interesting to me was that Cornelia had a very interesting family background and oral traditions that were lots of fun to research, although I do feel a certain thinness about my hair and perhaps it is not related to age.

According to a descendant of one of Cornelia’s daughters, Caroline Anne Cregoe, Cornelia’s grandmother Jacquette Marie Furteaux (nee Schmaltz) was:

MME Furteaux, Ci-Devant Comtesse de Choiseul.

The Comtesse de Choiseul lived in France, and during or just before the Revolution [1789-1799] found that her husband was making plans to desert her and sail to Mauritius. She went to the captain of the ship (Furteaux) – his own ship, which was often the custom in those days, and appealed to him to prevent it. ‘ I cannot prevent your husband sailing, Comtesse, but, if you and your children (3 I think) will not mind being brought on board in apple barrels, I can see to it that you all sail with him’. This was done, and three days out the Count gleefully rubbing his hands over his stratagem and its success said to the Captain: Ah! Monsieur le Capitaine. I ‘ave done a wonderful stroke of business; I ‘ave got rid of a wife and three children’ ‘Don’t be too sure, Count,’ remarked the Captain, and presently, up the hatch and along the deck walked Madame le Comtesse and the three children. The Count mustered what grave he could, bowed and exclaimed ‘Madame!’ She curtseyed and said ‘Monsieur!’ and that was that!

He deserted her again in the Mauritius and must I think eventually come to a bad end. All mother knew was that she, a capable and enterprising woman, started market-gardening, and married Captain Furteaux, the Captain of the ship!

[As Jacquette was not, according to the story, a Furteaux until after the desertion in Mauritius, she could not have been MME Furteuax, Comtesse de Choiseul, or else the whole ship story is confused over time. My first thoughts were perhaps, if Jacquette is Furteaux, the Captain and her husband are the same person and someone else smuggled them aboard in the barrels and it was the Captain who was deserting her – an idea that made more sense. They are said to have married in 1791 when Jacquette was 14 so it was extremely unlikely that she would have been previously married with children. I cannot find any feasible link to the Count de Choiseul. They were an “illustrious” French family with connections to the French Court. Perhaps there is a distant relationship yet to be discovered.]

The story continues:

[While living in Mauritius] her daughter [Marie Josephine Furteaux] with her two sisters was swinging on a gate as the English officers went by when England took over the Mauritius, and, as Great, great, great grandpa [William Slade Gully 87 Foot] went past in all his glory in pink coat, etc. she said: ‘Voila celui avec lequel je vais marrier!’ (I shall marry that one!) She was a tremendous flirt, so probably she ran after him. Mother told me that all he could say in French was: ‘Je vous aime’ (I love you) and she replied in English: ‘I, also’. Marry him she did and came to live at Trevennen, the family seat in Cornwall, which has belonged to the family since 1500 and something. And very dull she was poor woman. She always went by the name of ‘that French woman’. As the Napoleonic wars were on she was much ostracised. She said the English were dull and stupid and she was never tired of laughing at them, which if course didn’t help! She was, I believe, intensely witty ( at their expense!), very gay and far too cultivated for old Grandpa Gully, who was a real placid soldier, not very clever I should think to look at him, but very good natured (he was born in 1788 and died in 1853). Mother’s elder sister Josephine [Crow?], whom I knew, was extraordinarily like him only thin, brown eyes, fair hair, very short nose and long upper lip ,and completely devoid of an sense of humour, as he was I think. And as his daughter was, who was Grannie Cregoe, [Cornelia Powne Gully/Cregoe/Carlyon] my mother’s Grannie who married as her second husband, Mr Carlyon, rector of St. Just in Roseland Cornwall. They brought your Grannie (my mother) and her sister Josephine up there. (Grannie is buried in the churchyard there in her Grannie’s grave.)

Grandma Gully, nee Furteaux, [Marie Josephine 1795-1865] was a great friend in her girlhood of Josephine de Beauharnais [1763-1814], who married Napoleon and became the Empress Josephine – they were playmates in the Mauritius. [I think this story is confused – I cannot find any mention of Josephine ever being in Mauritius and the age difference means they could not have been playmates – perhaps it was Marie’s mother Jacquette Marie Schmaltz c. 1777 – 1864 who knew Josephine and it makes more sense as this is where the name Josephine enters the family]

So, to reiterate and according to oral tradition, Cornelia’s parents were Major William Slade Gully [1787 – 1853] and Marie Josephine Furteaux [1794 – 1865]. According to a French researcher, Henri Philippe Louis Maurel, Marie’s parents were Jean Joseph Sylvestre Furteau Dubois and Jacquette Marie Schmaltz [1777 – 1864] and they married in 1791 in Port Louis Mauritius. Jacquette would have been about 14 years old and they had three daughters –

Heloise Marie Furteau Dubois married 25 October 1824 François Jean Godefroy EMLER

Marie Josephine Furteau Dubois born 1794, married 3 October 1811 William Slade GULLY

Louise Eugenie Furteau Dubois married 16 July 1834 Geord Beard Panwell MIDDLEMORE

The extra surname of Dubois might explain why I have never been able to find anything on Furteaux/Furteau… apart from the fact that I am unable to read French.

However, there is another twist – isn’t there always? Further into my research I discovered from Henri Philippe Louis Maurel, the French researcher, that Jacquette and Jean Joseph Sylvestre Furteau Dubois divorced in 1798 and, in 1799, Jacquette married Jacques Le Vieux in Port Louis. So, she was twice married as per family tradition but Furteaux was her first husband not her second. Another five children were born from that second marriage.

What happened? Was the story retold and retold through the generations and when someone thought to write it down it had become confused like a chinese whisper? Was Jacques Le Vieux actually the Captain of the ship in the story? I think there is still much more discover but I am leaving that for another day.


Marie Josephine (1795 – 1865) was also said to be the niece of the Governor Smalley of Senegal but I have not been able to confirm this and can find no record of a “Governor Smalley”

Jacquette’s parents were Jean Jacques Boniface SCHMALTZ 1729-1783 & Louise TESSEIRES DESCLOS 1744-1810.


An Invitation to Samuel Shaw for Christmas Dinner

I don’t suppose you my dear Great, Great, Great Grandfather have ever been to Australia, even though your eldest daughter, Emily, eventually settled here? I suspect you may have liked the idea though and I wonder what you would think of it, a seasoned Captain of the sea such as yourself?

You are said to be a native of Killyleagh, does that mean you were born there? I am not sure, the question seems to be debatable, but I take it as that. Growing up beside Strangford Lough I am sure you learnt the ways of the sea. Samuel, at some stage your parents, that I believe to be John and Mary Shaw, moved to Hollywood. Did you go with them or were you already in Belfast then and did they follow you?  Was it in Belfast where you began a career that took you on many adventures and to faraway places? I am sure there is many a story you could tell. I suspect some of the tales my Great, Great, Grandmother wrote were inspired by your tales of the sea. If my father was there the two of you could swap sea stories all night.

I would love to ask about your family – did you have brothers and sisters or, were you an only child? Is that what is meant on Mary’s burial record at Clifton Street – “Mary Shaw relict of John Shaw born at Killileagh who came to Belfast from Hollywood. One son settled in Belfast”. How many children did you have? Are there more for me to discover, or have I added one or two by mistake? No parish records make it hard going but I think I have it right?

 What was Isabella, your wife and my Great, Great, Great Grandmother like? Was she the daughter of William McMorran and Eliza Pringle and from Downpatrick like I think she was? You all packed up and went to live in St John, New Brunswick in about 1836. It is said you regularly sailed between Belfast and St John. What made you take that big move and why did you return again to Belfast in about 1844? Was sailing getting too much for you by then, or did you just miss home?

Perhaps it was getting too much because soon after, by 1846 at the age of about 57, Samuel Shaw appears to have retired from his sailing life. I find you listed in the Directories as the Overseer of Delivery for the Ballast Corporation then and, again, you were listed as Clerk of Delivery for the Harbour Commissioners in 1856. You carved out a career with the Ballast Corporation that continued on for the rest of your life. Promotion must have happened during the following years and in 1861 you are listed as Superintendent of Ballast Delivery. At this time you were living at 35 Henry Street. Your son, Thomas once gave 35 Henry Street as an address so I think the family lived there for quite some time?

It was sad to read in the Belfast Newsletter of your passing away from old age on 3rd November 1869, where, at that time, you lived at 4 Eglinton Street. Your son, O’Connell had the sad task of registering your death and the following Obituary appeared in the Belfast Newsletter 4 November, 1869:

DEATH OF CAPTAIN SHAW: Our readers will learn with regret from our paper of to-day the death of Captain Samuel Shaw, at the time of his decease, the oldest master mariner in Belfast. In early life he was a successful master in Langtry’s line of packets in the Liverpool and London trades. For upwards of the last twenty years of his life he acted as clerk of ballast under the Belfast Harbour Commissioners. Through life he was remarkable for his knowledge of navigation, and devoted pursuit after its development. As an officer of the port he was revered by all on account of his many talents and quiet inoffensive disposition.

So please come to dinner on Christmas Day, I would love to meet you, talk with you and for you to see my children, your descendants and what lovely adults they have become. I could introduce you to some others who are also your descendants, if you wouldn’t find it all too much. I hope you would be proud of them. I certainly am of you.