Poole Genealogy - Otis Manchester "Chester" Poole
Issue Date: 11/10/2015
Major Edit – combines several formerly separate files.
There follows a direct copy of the original carbon of Chester's autobiographical work passed down to A Maitland, 1997:
Charlottesville , Virginia
Dear Dick and David, (his sons)
May 1st, 1964.
It must be 20 years ago that my brother, your Uncle Bert, first asked me to write an account of my life for him Poole family Genealogy, then taking shape. His own interesting biography ran into 27 pages and he wanted mine as its counterpart, we being the two surviving Poole descendants of our line.
Several false starts bogged down and were discarded. Then, when I retired to Virginia in 1949, I applied myself to the task with such vigour that the pencilled draft covered 150 Pages of foolscap. Crammed with personal experience, it was thoroughly impractical for Bert's purposes; and after typing 17 pages, I abandoned it. The next attempt was so short as to be stupid. More urgent appeals from Bert inspired a fresh effort but by this time you boys had both married and in the end I found myself so deeply involved in, and intrigued by, not only your mother's lineage but your Wives' ancestry too, that what I have finally achieved is a complete genealogy of my branch of the Poole Clan far-reaching as to again be out of place in Bert's compilation.
Meanwhile, sadly, Bert has gone, having died in Florida June 11/1962; and his daughter Eleanor hopes to have his life-work printed, I think, therefore, that I should limit my contribution to what Bert originally asked for - my own life story; and to regard the annals I have gathered together, with your mother's help, as a separate genealogy for you and your children, to whom it particularly relates.
This will explain why most of the following pages are blatantly headed "Subject 2-B Otis Manchester Poole" - whether the text concerns me or not. This was to conform to the system followed throughout Bert's Genealogy. More definitive headings would now be desirable but the task of alteration is beyond me.
Since what I have compiled was intended to be supplementary to Bert's Poole Genealogy, it contains nothing about my Poole or Armstrong forbears. To make my volume completely independent of Bert's, it should, of course, include the Poole Tree. The information is all here in my copy of "Bert's Begats" (as Mother dubs them) which he prudently sent me as fast as he typed it. Some day I may make a summary to be included herein, but not just now. For the moment, I am satiated with ancestors and must take time out to revive this wilted descendant,
Your affectionate father,
1. Chester's biography.
2. Dorothy's biography
" Campbell ancestry.
" Rice ancestry.
Tony's history, including Luba's and Clive's.
" Hanbury ancestry, including Diana.
" Rawnsley ancestry, " " and Coatsworths.
" Jarret and White ancestry.
Called Chester. Younger son of Otis Augustus Poole.
An account of his life written by him in l96l/2 for his brother Herbert A. Poole's history of the Poole Family, including the Rices and Campbell ancestry of his wife Dorothy May Campbell and short histories of their sons Anthony Campbell Poole, Richard Armstrong Poole and David Manchester Poole.
I was born at 3731 Forest Avenue, Chicago, Illinois, on September 6/1880. A twin sister did not survive. My only brother Herbert was three years older than I, my sister Eleanor two.
Forest Avenue, now known as Giles Avenue, was a pleasant tree-lined residential street close beside fashionable Grand Boulevard which followed the contours of Lake Michigan Southwards. We three spent our childhood there with Summer visits to our Grandfather Armstrong's farm at Arcola, 150 miles South in the wheat lands. When old enough, I followed Bert and Eleanor into Cottage Grove School and had two years elementary grounding before our lives were completely changed.
In May,1888, father, whose business was in China and Japan teas took us all out to Japan to live permanently in Yokohama. There a little blue-and-white bungalow at No. 89 Bluff, half hidden in a trim garden hedged by tall oleanders, camellias, magnolias and cropped cedars, became the Poole family home for thirty years.
Bert has so well described what Yokohama was like in those days that it would be redundant for me to add my impressions but I still recall with nostalgia the booming of temple bells at night, the waiting call of the amaa-san (blind masseurs) and soba vendors, the wooden clack of the night watch-man. I picture the rikisha stands at every twist of the winding Bluff road their idle pullers crouched in a fragile lean-to over a charcoal fire or playing "Go" (chess) awaiting the next call "Hai! Kuruma!". I see again the oblong-sailed fishing sampans gliding down the bay in the pearly morning light and hear their conches blowing as they returned at dusk. I think, too, of the sandy beaches beneath the Bluff, around Juniten and in the coves of the Honmoku cliffs where we used to swim with our foxterriers; and the sweep of the emerald paddy fields rippling in the Summer breeze. All that has "gone with the wind" now, but not from memory.
That first Autumn Bert and I entered the Victoria Public School, established in 1887 by the British community, where, among the sixty other English and American boys, we made many lifelong friends, such as Sydney and George Wheeler, sons of old "Judy", the beloved Irish Doctor. Sydney died in Shanghai during World War 1, while George, a Captain in the Gurhkhas, won the Victoria Cross for valour in the relief of Kut in Mesopetamia. Then there were Halstead and Thayer Lindsley who later made their fortunes in gold mining in Canada and whose sister Maya became Bert's wife. Killian van Rensellaer Smith, "Van", son of one of the partners in father's firm Smith Baker & Co., has been perhaps my most constant friend through the years and still strenuously enjoys life in Switzerland; Nicholas ("Beau") Hannen, son of Sir Nicholas, Judge of the British Court, who became well-known on the London stage; Morris Mandelson whose life was studded with tragedies; Charlie and George Moss, the latter knighted for his Consular fortitude when the Japanese invaded North China in the '30s; Eric and Harold Irwine, the parson's sons, - Eric fought in the Boer War and never settled down, whereas Harold emerged from World War 1 a Major, M.C., and wound up a Director of Imperial Chemical Industries. There were others such as Aubrey and Rex Brent and Harry Cook who became bankers and forestry officers in India of Burma and faded from our ken. It was a dashing group of boys and we were constantly together, especially enjoying long walks in the hills back of the Bluff with our dogs and 22 cal. guns. I shall never forget one morning in our workshop as I sat cleaning my rifle, and Halstead picked my revolver, its six chambers loaded alternately with bullets and dust-shot, clicked it several times with his thumb on the hammer, held it to my head and fired. By the Grace of God it was a dust-shot that fired and a thick double seam of my tweed cap stopped the fine pellets so that I was only pricked. But Halstead went white as a sheet and vowed he would never touch a firearm again. Ten Summers later he was a Deputy Sheriff in Telluride, Colorado, with Two Colts in his belt.
Father was away every Winter in America but in the Summers was very companionable with us boys and taught us many crafts. In the Summer of 1891, we all spent a month at Hakone Lake, with its lovely view of Fuji across the water. The Wheeler boys and Beau Hannen were there too and we had a lot of fun. Then in 1892, father took Bert, George Wheeler and me with two of our foxterriers up Fujiyama. It was a thrilling experience, riding on pack-horses through the woods to the cinder level, then trudging up endless lava slopes, sleeping in rock Huts on top among bands of white-clad pilgrims and, most memorable, drinking in the superb views from the 12,000 ft. crater.
Following in Bert's footsteps, l left school at fourteen and was privately tutored in French, Japanese, shorthand and type-writing. In September, 1895, I joined the Yokohama office of Dodwell, Carlill & Co. (later Dodwell & Co. Ltd.) a British merchant house engaged in importing, exporting and shipping, with chief offices in London and Hongkong and branches at the main seaports of China, Japan and the Pacific Coast. I soon became secretary to the manager, George Syme Thomson, a big, rugged Scot and brilliant shipping man, who took pains to coach me as we went along and to whose kindly interest I owe a great deal.
In January, 1899, I was sent down to our Hongkong office for several months, where I lived with the bachelor manager, E.S. Whealler, in his mansion "Hazeldene" part way up the Peak. Life in a British colony was a stirring change from that in Japan, and the milling hordes of Chinese crowding the gaily colored streets fascinated me. While there I took the night boat to Canton up the Pearl River and was carried by chair from the little foreign colony of Shameen on a shady islet over a guarded bridge into the Chinese city, through narrow, bannered alleys to silk shops, temples and pagodas to the massive walls and lofty gates guarding the city. Then to a far grimmer sight, the prison, a collection of infested open-air cages holding cowering creatures that once were men. Nearby was the execution ground, a bare earthen courtyard along one side of which stood a long row of barrells full of decomposing human heads. A brutish executioner, lolling in a doorway, stepped out at a word from my Chinese companion, gave a few swipes with his heavy sword and lurched back. My blood ran cold and I was glad to get away.
With two other young Chaps, I also visited the Portuguese colony of Macao on a Saint's day, gambled at Fan-Tan in a reeking Chinese den, and, though I did not realise it, had the first glimpse of my future wife, Dorothy Campbell, a fair little 3 year old in a red dressing gown, summering there with her mother from Hongkong.
Returning to Yokohama in one of our freighters, the "Lennox", in ballast, we nearly foundered in a typhoon in the Formosa Channel. It was nip and tuck and I landed on the opposite side of the poop saloon with a cracked rib, but we pulled through.
In 1900 Bert and I made a trip together to the Northern Island, Hokkaido, to see the fast disappearing Ainu people, the aboriginal race that once inhabited Japan as far south as Fujiyama. They are supposed to have sprung from a stray Nordic tribe as they lack the Mongolian eye but are black-haired and squat, the men not only bearded but thickly covered with hair on their chests and limbs. The women tattoo their faces with indigo and their garments resemble the American Indians', with bold key-patterns. They ware fishermen and hunters and still used bows and arrows. Now, sixty years later, they are practically extinct.
Life in Yokohama in the early days was singularly pleasant. Every type of sport was readily accessible. In our teens, Bert and I shared a zest for swimming, rowing, sailing and bird shooting; and when the safety bicycle came in about 1893, made many up-country trips. Cars, of course, were still unknown.
Under guidance by mother, who was a brilliant pianist, Eleanor also developed into one, while Bert shone as a violinist. In fact, 89 Bluff became the rendezvous of musicians of many nationalities. My leanings were more artistic than musical and sketching in water colors has afforded me much pleasure all my life. In sports Bert adhered to sailing and rowing, in both of which he often represented Yokohama in interport events. I gradually swung over to tennis and riding, shooting and climbing in the mountains. The latter became my keenest interest and so many were the trips I organised in my twenties that I came to be regarded by fellow-enthusiasts as something of an institution. An aptitude for photography inherited from father added interest to these explorations, of which accounts often appeared in the local papers. Walter Weston, the Alpinist, in his book "The playground of the Far East", contained several of my photographs of the Japanese Alps, refers to me as "my friend "Chester" Poole, the European doyen of artistic landscape photography in the Kamikochi region". I was elected a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society and enlargements of some of my photographs of the Japanese Alps taken during the scaling of Yarigatake in 1905 hung on the walls of its headquarters in London for many years. S0 many and varied were these excursions with boon companions, and so exciting their incidents, that it would be impossible to describe them here. The narrative of one 240 mile walk from Nikko to the Tenryu-gawa with five other young fellows, was printed in book form illustrated by many of our photographs. It was probably one of the best known of all our trips, and led on to our later sallies into the Japanese Alps, in 1095 to 1908.
Socially, our lives were equally jolly. The daughters of the community were exceptionally zestful and attractive. Dinners, dances, picnics and garden parties brought young people together in intimate groups, and romances flourished. Living on such a remote "frontier", the community had to create its own entertainment, and the frequent concerts and theatricals revealed a surprising amount of talent.
In November, 1901, I received my first home leave, and accompanied father across the Pacific in the S.S."Doric" on my first return to America since leaving it as a boy of seven. From San Francisco we slipped down to Monterey and Carmel then up the Pacific Coast to Portland and Tacoma and across the Continent the via Denver and Salt Lake to Chicago, meeting again my dimly remembered Uncles, Aunts and cousins. Then on to Boston, via frozen Niagara Falls, where Halstead and Thayer, in Harvard College, gave me a jolly time. Then to New York, Philadelphia and Washington and back for a round of theatres, opera, concerts and sights that were an eye-opener to me. These weeks in America were father's 21st birthday present to me and I shall long remember his generosity and stimulating companionship.
We parted after Christmas, I to continue alone across the Atlantic in the White Star "Teutonic" to put in five months in our London office. I shared diggings in Chelsea with our accountant, Fred Baker who had had some earlier years in Manila and visited friends all over the country. My schoolmate Aubrey Brent took me on many bicycle excursions, including a most enjoyable one to Oxford. The Company's Chairman, George B. Dodwell, was particularly kind in inviting me frequently to his stately home "Coniston" in Watford where I became well acquainted with his five lively daughters of 14 to 22 and two sons, George Melville, 18 and Gordon 15. George was in later years my close associate in the Company and finally himself Chairman.
While in London I took three weeks off to visit Leipzig, (where my friend Cecile Rogers was studying music), Heidelberg, Lucerne, Monte Carlo and Paris. I was lucky at the gaming tables in Monte Carlo and had a jolly good time in Paris. It was all an interesting first glimpse of Europe's fabled attractions.
Finally, in May I sailed from London in the Japanese Liner "Bingo Maru", via Port Said, Suez, Colombo, Singapore and Hongkong, arriving home in June sunburned and full of adventures.
I was now in the Shipping Department and in 1903 was sent on a mission to Formosa where I stayed with the typan of one of the Tea Hongs in Daitotei, the small foreign colony just outside the walls of Taipei on the banks of the river. I visited Keelung and Tamsui and crossed over to Amoy. On my favorable report as to facilities and prospects, Dodwell's New York ships thereafter made direct calls at Keelung for tea cargoes, eliminating transhipment to Amoy.
In 1904 the Russo-Japanese War broke out. Although the conflict was too far removed from Yokohama to affect our lives, Dodwells had twenty-four ships on time-charter to the Japanese, and our office teemed with Sea Captains exchanging thrilling yarns. When peace came, we repatriated to Odessa shiploads of hulking Russian prisoners. They were always hungry and would eagerly pluck a round loaf from a barrel, break it open, insert a handful of salt and eat it like a hamburger.
Events came quickly at that time in our family. In 1904, Eleanor married Nathaniel George Maitland, "N.G.", an Englishman in the Chartered Bank who had a fine baritone voice and was much at home at 89 Bluff. Two years later they moved to Shanghai and we saw them only on summer visits with their small boys. Bert had joined a Belgian firm in Tokyo, Mosle & Co., and lived mostly up there. At the end of 1904, he made an extended trip around the world. Most disrupting of all the Tea Trade suddenly shifted from Yokohama to the Tea fields of Shidsuoka half way down the coast to Kobe. Some foreign merchants whose large tea-firing plants were idled, including father's firm Smith Baker & Co., elected to close up rather than move to the isolated tea district. Father however, started his own concern, Otis A Poole & Co. in Shidsuoka, living in a picturesque Japanese house and garden that had once belonged to a Samurai, but retaining 89 Bluff for mother, with whom I, the last of her family, continued to live. Bert's marriage in 1908 to a lovely American girl in Tokyo, Bessie Ballagh, completed his desertion of the old home, although they lived close by us on the Bluff. Tragically, their happiness was short-lived; Bessie died seven months later of meningitis.
In 1908, Dodwells "opened" Yokkaichi, the fishing-village port of Nagoya by establishing the first direct service to foreign lands. I went own 3 weeks ahead to pave the way, smoked out daily in my shack called the Seaman's Club by attentive officials. When the day came the Japanese put on great celebrations, three Governors gracing the final banquet for notables. The little town was bedecked with flags and lanterns, while the geisha quarter festooned a banner reading "33 1/3 percent discount to our Noble Allies." (This was the era of the Anglo-Japanese alliance.) The City of Nagoya presented me with an inscribed watch and chain which I lost in the earthquake of 1923, to my regret, as it was quite a historic event.
My second home leave came in 1909 when an American pal, Orville G.Bennet linked his leave with mine and we set off in January for England via Shanghai, Hongkong & Singapore; thence through the Malay States to Penang, Rangoon and Calcutta; up to Darjeeling to view the Himalayas, a stupendous snowy ridge floating in space. Then up the Ganges to Benares with its battlements and temples overhanging the river like a page from the Arabian Nights. Thence North into the Punjab to see my schoolmate George Wheeler, now a Captain in the Gurkha Rifles in cantonments at Dehra Dun, where we had a taste of Kipling's India, watched manoeuvres and dashing polo games and dined in the Officer's Mess in evening dress, respectfully listening to the Colonel's anecdotes. After 15 years of soldiering, George was a fine sahib, but still George. Thence to Delhl and its 21 deserted cities; Agra, the peerless Taj Mahal, Fatehpur Sikri - a walled marble city never occupied because of poisonous water; the desert stronghold of Gwalior, to whose fortress on a great rock we ascended on one of the Maharaja's elephants, escorted by a guard of six barefoot soldiers.
After Gwalior, we had a few days in Bombay, especially impressed by the Towers of Silence on Malabar Hill, wherein the bodies of dead Parsis are laid out on slabs and reduced to picked skeletons in a few hours by hordes of black vultures that perpetually line the rims of the towers and perch in surrounding trees awaiting their next gruesome meal. From Bombay, we crossed India southwards to Madras where we said goodbye to our dragoman Abdul Gafoor and sent him back to Calcutta, while we continued South to the reeking, bat-ridden Hindu temples of Madura; and finally to Tuticorin and Colombo, delighting in some golf again and a visit to Kandy in the mountains.
A sunny five days at sea took us to Suez and Cairo where we climbed to the smooth pinnacle of Chephren, a ticklish feat, and next day drove five golf balls each off the top of Chephren, the highest tee in the world. Then by rail up the Nile to the ruins of Karnak, Luxor and the Tombs of the Kings where the scents of the desert and the lonely silence of the massive columns and monuments carry one out of this world into a dreamlike past. A strange and overpowering sensation.
From Egypt, we crossed the Mediterranean to Naples, Pompeii, Capri, Rome and Venice. Then, shouldering ruck-sacks, a week's walk through the Austrian Tyrol, down again to Milan and Monte Carlo (where I was again modestly lucky) Switzerland, down the Rhine on a grey day brightened by Sauterne; a two day walk across Holland from Amsterdam to the Hague, and over to England and Scotland, playing on twenty two golf courses as we went. A fabulous kaleidoscope of unforgettable scenes and episodes.
On winding up in London, "Og" and I parted, he to continue on to New York and I to return to St. Andrews for some professional coaching in golf, after a spell at North Berwick. Who should I run across at St. Andrews but my schoolmate "Beau" Hannen, his pretty wife and pink baby son; and we had a wonderful three weeks of of golf together. I cycled across from Inverness to Fort William beside some lovely lochs and coming down the West Coast of England, visited quite few old friends. Then followed several months in London office before sailing for New York in September in the decrepit old "St Louise", "Og" Bennet was on the dock to whisk me off on a week's walking trip through the Catskills and Schwangunk Mountains, followed by some golf with his brother Walter at Greenwich. Then to Philadelpida and Washington and on to Chicago to get up to date with our warm-hearted relatives and on to San Francisco via the Grand Canyon, a noble sight. The S.S."Korea" finally put me back in Yokohama in November, impoverished but thrilled with a host of wonderful experiences.
Early in 1910 I was transferred to Kobe where, because of my modest reputation as a climber, I was warmly welcomed by, and joined the "Mountain Goats", a small group of doughty walkers who climbed the Kobe hills every morning from 5 to 7 A.M. to the little shrine of Futatabi, and on Winter weekends scrambled over the rugged Rokkosan ridges. A member Of the Kobe Club once wrote of them:-
Oh, who would be a Mountain Goat
And leap from crag to crag?
I'd rather be just what I am
And crawl from jag to jag.
Well, that was Kobe! I enjoyed my three bachelor years
there, especially Summer weekends of golf on the crest of the Rokkosan Hills. Though
never a scratch golfer, I generally made the Interport Team, and throughout the
years played for both Yokohama and Kobe. I also played against the first team that
the Tokyo Japanese were able to muster when they took to golf. We walloped
them. In a year's time they had so improved that our team scored only one
halved match, - and that was mine.
It happened also that the braid business in my charge in Kobe did phenomenally well, which was not overlooked in London and did me no harm.
In April, 1913, I Was transferred back to Yokokama, where mother was still living at 89 Bluff. On our very first evening, at a play at the Gaiety Theatre, I met and was greatly attracted by a pretty, vivacious and charming girl of barely eighteen, just out from school in Guernsey and Germany, - none other than Dorothy Campbell. Mother had a tiffin party next day for a dozen people, including Dorothy, as a "welcome home" to me; and from that time on I saw as much of her as I could. Our parents had been friends from first day in Yokohama; in fact, I could remember her mother, Calla Rice, when a girl of seventeen spending mornings at our house practising songs to Mother's accompaniment on her clear, soprano voice; whereas Dorothy's father, a wonderful swimmer, diver and yachtsman, had at the same time taught all us chavers his tricks and called us his "tadpoles". But the Campbells had lived many of the intervening years in Hongkong and Kobe and, except for the Macao episode, I had only seen Dorothy as a girl of twelve homeward bound to school, and mother had given her a gold and silver brooch fashioned like a true-lovers-knot with enamelled forget-me-nots. Perhaps it was a talisman. When I discovered she liked to go sketching in water-colors, I precipitately bought a Studebaker open touring car and whisked her off to picturesque spots in the hills. Of course I taught her how to drive; that was elementary. Cars were only just appearing in Japan and mine was one of the first. Van Smith followed my lead and our twin cars opened up a new life of picnics, Sunday jaunts to the sea-shore and long country trips far beyond anything previously accessible.
In July, 1915, Dodwells sent me on a business trip to New York and London. I crossed the Pacific with my brother Bert in the Pacific Mail S.S."Korea", he en route to Boston to marry Maya Lindsley, sister of our schoolmates Halstead and Thayer Lindsley. Halstead met us in In San Francisco where we saw the spectacular Pan-American Exhibition and where I left them to pursue my way to New York via the Giant Caves of Kentucky and Niagara Falls. World War 1 was on and things were a bit sticky crossing to London in the Cunard "Aquitania" and even more during my shirt stay there; even more so coming back with twelve passengers, men only in the giant "Baltic". Again Og Bennet met me in New York and took me off for a week's visit with his brother and wife at Martha's Vineyard, where yachting parties by moonlight, good swimming and dancing with a jolly young group, filled the days delightfully. Three weeks later I was back in Yokohama. There is a proverb about absence, and not long after my return, Dorothy capitulated and we became engaged. As if one momentous event were not enough, my rugged but king typan of twenty years, George Syme Thomson, died of a stroke two days before Christmas and London cabled instructions for me to take charge as Manager.
Six months later, on June 21/1916, Dorothy and I were married in Christ Church, at the other end of the same block as No 89. Van Smith was my grinning best man and half Yokohama attended the reception at the Campbell's house, No 1 Bluff. We divided our honeymoon between Miyanoshita, Nikko and Chusenji Lake, in idyllic surroundings. Our first home was at No.68 Bluff, a comfortable two-storied house with a small garden, within a stone's throw of mother now once more alone at 89. There our first son, Anthony Campbell Poole, was born on March 29/1917, amidst great rejoicing. But an unusually hot summer pulled Dorothy down and it was decided she should accompany father in November to America, to spend six months at Coronado Beach with friends and at a Swedish Health Home. She returned in June, 1918, a picture of radiant health.
Meanwhile, mother had become desperately ill about Christmas time and Eleanor came over from Shanghai to be with her, but at the end of three months had to return to Shanghai to have her fourth son, Donald. To our sorrow, mother died June 4/1918, in her 77th year, mourned by the whole community. Father came up from Shidzuoka and Bert from Kobe and we buried her in the Bluff cemetery looking towards Fujyama. Father relinquished 89 Bluff and that was the end of the Poole Family home of 30 years.
Our next two sons were not long in appearing on the scene, Richard Armstrong Poole on April 29/19l9 and David Manchester Poole July 4/1920. Our Japanese servants, jubilant with traditional pride over THREE sons to carry on the family name, flew great paper carp from a tall bamboo pole for a week.
In those tears I served on many committees, and in 1920 was elected President of the American Association of Yokohama. This was all part of the Far Eastern life and everyone had to do his bit.
Because of World War I and all our branches being short-handed, had had to forego my regular home leave, so the company now made up for it by giving me a whole year instead of the usual 6 months.
In February, 1922, accompanied by a pretty English nanny homeward bound, we all sailed for England via Sues in the Japanese liner "Haruna Maru", and settled for the summer at Brook in the New Forest, also visiting the scenes and friends of Dorothy's school days in Guernsey. I also made a business trip to Switzerland, through the battlefields of Belgium, the villages still stark and unrepaired. Many friends visited us, stopping at the Bell Inn, including Dorothy's brother Archie from Durham University, her cousin Evelyn Gillett and her paternal Aunt Lady Jephson, a grand character and artist. In September we shifted to Devonshire, spending two months at Lustleigh, where I enjoyed walking over the moors; and we also visited Dorothy's cousins the Fulfords of Fulford, still living in their moated Norman Castle, perhaps the oldest inhabited building in England. Then finally we were back in London for a last fling. After X'mas, I had to return to Japan via America, for business reasons, leaving Dorothy and the boys to go the other way via Suez with a Danish Governess we had engaged, Miss Lauritsen. Unluckily, before Xmas, Dorothy fell downstairs and broke her collar-bone; and it was March before she could safely sail.
Back at 68 Bluff by late Spring, everything seemed set for a resumption of our happy home life. Then, on September 1/1923 came the terrible earthquake that utterly destroyed Yokohama and most of Tokyo. It struck at three minutes before noon on a Saturday, when I was at the office, No.72 Settlement, and just closing up to go to the Club, the Far Eastern custom; and and the children were at home. First there were a few creaks and a feeling of dizziness, then a violent shaking with a crescendo of noise and then suddenly the earth began to heave and toss with a thunderous roar, bringing down pictures, ceilings and walls and flinging the furniture about like corks. Instantly the air was filled with the dust of crumbling plaster and you could'nt see twenty feet. All one could do was grip the side of a doorway and hang on for dear life, awed by terrible crashes on all sides. For four minutes this uproar continued; then sudden silence. The staff flocked to the entrance hallway by my door. We counted heads and all were there, only a few cut and bleeding. Thanks to a unique roof constructed fifty years earlier of whole treetrunks, our building was still standing, though reduced to a shambles. But around us spread nothing but shocking ruins. A five storied brick godown (warehouse) across the narrow street was just a heap of rubbish and forty seven silk workers within it were killed. Wherever one looked stood remnants of buildings, festooned with timbers. On the Bluff, houses were split asunder or pancaked like Jackstraws with a lid on top. Mercifully, 68 Bluff was one of the few that, though shattered, did not fall; and Dorothy, the children and servants scrambled out into the garden unhurt; but as only a fringe was left, the rest having slid into the valley below, they took refuge in the garden of 89 Bluff. Two other married men of our staff and I agreed to stick together and make for the Bluff and our families, while the unmarried men were to take care of the girls and head the open park. We all knew there was more to come. Clambering over massive ruins that blocked the streets, and splashing knee-deep through flooded subsidences, we fought our way towards the Bluff in an uncanny, sulphurous light from a copper-colored sun seen dimly through the dust. We crossed the canal by the remains of Nishi-no-hashi bridge into Notomachi, the strip of Japanese town under the abrupt sides of the Bluff. It was a scene of horror, the flimsy native houses having been reduced to matchwood from the depths of which came cries and groans and bodies lay on all sides. Worst of all, fires were leaping up on all sides; and as we sprang through this mess, a wall of flames pursued us like a demon, roaring in the high wind. Frank Anderson with his wife Honor and daughter Patsey were now living in 89 Bluff and though the house had pancaked, Honor and Patsy wriggled out uninjured but for bruises and a broken rib. There I found Dorothy and the boys, together with her parents who had rushed to her side from their own shattered house at 37 Bluff.
By now a pall of black smoke was billowing past close over-head and we trekked along the Bluff to Camp Hill leading down to the waterfront. Blocked there by a cauldron of fire, we took refuge in the terraced lawns and tennis court of the British Naval Hospital on the cliff tops overlooking the Bay. Leaving the family under a deodar, I made a sally along the Bluff to Bateman's house accompanied by a willing bachelor friend. It was toppled against a telephone pole but across the way lay the ruins of the Syme Thomson house from which Bateman and the gardener had only just dug out his wife and Mrs Syme Thomson, buried in timbers for two hours but saved by the back of a sofa from being crushed. Making chairs of our hands, we carried them to the road, where they could stumble along to the Naval Hospital and join our party. Looking back, we had been only just in time. Flames had already leaped the road and the Syme Thomson ruins were ablaze, as was Bateman's house. In fact, the situation had become menacing. We were now hemmed in by a fast approaching ring of flames as fallen residences caught fire in quick succession and the hot smoke brought it home to the grim knots of fugitives that we would have to go over the cliff or he consumed. Tennis nets were hastily tied together and let down over rim, the upper end fastened to a Summer-house outlook, and in response to urgent exhortations, people risked their lives in a hazardous scramble down the not quite perpendicular cliff face, transferring half way down to a slide where the cliff had avalanched. At the bottom an open space of reclaimed ground extended a hundred yards to the west of the bay and by the Grace of God a scow of fresh water lay tied to the sea wall. Everyone by now was parched with thirst from the choking smoke and water was a life-saver. I made three trips up and down the cliff to carry our children down and the third time met my father in law half way down, carrying Dick precariously on his shoulders. Time had run out and as the fire struck the Naval grounds, people panicked and overwhelmed the rope, which broke before our eyes. Sheets of fire appeared above the brim like a Niagara and as it licked those who had feared to go over the cliff, many threw themselves over in flaming pinwheels, thudding in piles on the beach below. A sickening sight.
By 4 p.m., Yokohama was gone, burned to embers; and a sudden change of wind from offshore to onshore made it possible for the "Commodore" (Mr. Campbell) and me to work along the Bund (water-front boulevard) wall, kneedeep in water to the tumbled rocks that had been the Boat Club Jetty, from which we could hail the sendo (sailor) of his big cabin yacht "Daimlo" and get him to row the dinghy ashore. In this we transported our families and many others in distress to the "Daimyo" and surrounding yachts, while lifeboats from the ships in harbor or out in the bay plied back and forth taking off those who remained.
Through the night Yokohama and every other town around the Bay, including distant Tokyo, burned like a display of fireworks; and when dawn exposed the complete desolation, it was realised that life for the foreigner in Yokohama was ended; and those left alive were received on board ships in port to be evacuated to Kobe. But getting away was fraught with fresh perils. In the course of Sunday morning, the wind again changed to off-shore and flames suddenly ignited the fuel oil that had spread during the night over the harbor from burst tanks on shore. The "Empress of Australia" with 2,000 refugees on board and the anchor chain of another ship fouled in one propeller, escaped only by a miracle of seamanship into the open bay. Other vessels were towed out by daring tugs. The Commodore and I, again on board the "Daimyo", and two companion yachts, had a terribly close shave, first of being engulfed in burning oil, and then of being run down by the fleeing ships, and all the while compelled to watch the desperate manoeuvres of the "E/Australia" with our families aboard.
A hundred and fifty thousand people were killed; and of the foreign population of Yokohama one in eight perished. We were among the lucky ones, though of course our home and all our possessions were destroyed. Dodwell's premises shared the common fate of the entire city. The rest of our staff escaped being trapped by the flames in the recreation park, or got to the hills behind the Bluff. But the canals and wharves were choked with the bodies of these who could not escape. Dorothy's widowed Aunt Mabel Fraser was nearly one of these, having been on the way to the railway station; but just managed to ride it out in an island square surrounded by canals.
This is but a fragmentary picture of the disaster. Dorothy and the boys went on to Shanghai and were taken in by my sister Eleanor and George Maitland, while the Campbells and I stayed behind in Kobe, where three months later we were reuinted.
For the next two years we lived in the firm's house at "San-bon-matsu" (The three pines) high up the Kobe hillside. As former residents, we had many friends and everyone was most kind. For the Summer of 1924, we rented one of the semi-Japanese bungalows that dotted the Rokkosan hills around the golf course, escaping the sea-level heat. The Campbells had gone back to Yokohama and were living in one of the prefabricated houses that sprang up on the Bluff as temporary homes.
The period of reconstruction was an arduous one for me. Since about 1918 I had been General Manager for Japan, our senior manager, Matt Smith, an Kobe, having died. Therefore the burden of planning for the future, as well as retrieving the past, fell upon me.
Then in 1925, just before going again to Rokkosan for the Summer, Kobe forgot its historic immunity from earthquakes and suffered one so violent that at its height I thought we were in for another Yokohama disaster. However, it simmered down, though not before considerable damage had been done and Kobe's inhabitants had had a bad scare. Dorothy, who had been caught part way downtown, ran back up the hill in apprehension for the children and on finding safe in a neighbor's garden, collapsed from exhaustion. She had come through the Yokohama ordeal with the fortitude of a pioneer woman, but this second shock brought on a siege of boils, as had happened to many after the Yokohama quake, and had to go into hospital. Hearing of this, Stanley Dodwell, our Chariman, suggested we should all go across to Victoria, British Columbia, for a three months well-deserved change. So, on July 7/1925, we sailed from Kobe on the "Empress of Asia", and on arrival rented a nice house on Transit Road, only a few yards from Shoal Bay. While there, our New York manager's health broke down and London cabled me to go across and take over until he recovered. He never did and I stayed on permanently, and was shortly made a Director of the Company. Thus, by sheer chance, I came back to my own country after 37 years abroad and have never seen Japan or the Far East again.
The following June, I went back to fetch Dorothy and the boys from Victoria; and from July 1st, 1926, for the next 23 years, we dwelt in Summit, New Jersey, a lovely suburb on the crest of wooded hills eighteen miles out of New York. After boarding for a while to find our bearings, we moved into an airy third-story apartment in a remodelled residence at 15 Euclid Avenue, where the squirrels came to our casement windows to be fed. The boys went to Lance School, a private school for boys, and soon had a nice group of friends. Being so much of an age, they were always companionable and provided a nucleus for other boys to rally round for games, a flat valley just below our garden providing a handy playground. Three feminine friends of my young days in Japan, now married with young families resided in Summit and Short Hills and Dorothy and I were quietly welcomed into their circle.
The years that followed were happy ones, with our children emerging into energetic boyhood. They were all good at drawing and water-colours, and at weekends we would drive out to sketch, picnic, swim and row at Surprise Lake, at that time still secluded. Tony especially, had real artistic talent and having had a good start under Miss Lauritsen in Yokohama, took naturally to the piano and was coming on well when the 1929 stock market crash compelled an abandonment of some of the advantages we had planned for our sons. However, it may not have been altogether a misfortune as they loyally adapted themselves to simpler pleasures and turned out well.
In 1932 we moved into an attractive, two-storied house at 12 Hobart Ave, where the boys, now breaking into their teens, would have more elbow room. They were good lads, nice looking, pleasant spoken and enterprising. Their companions came from good families and as they grew older and went to dances, etc., the same held true of the girls. To our amusement, whereas at first they had been identified as OUR sons, it was now WE who were identified as THEIR parents. We were members of the Canoe Brook Country Club where I enjoyed the two fine golf courses, but our warmest friends were mostly in the Art group and we helped an artist friend, Blanche Greer, start an evening life class. In 1933, I was elected the first president of the budding Summit Art Association since grown beyond recognition to one of the foremost Art Schools In the Country. Dorothy also developed a gift for poetry that created for her some very devoted friends. Years later I had a book of her verses printed for her on our fortieth wedding anniversary, illustrated by Dorothy's own delicate drawings.
Meanwhile, things had been happening in our families back in Japan. The Pacific Mail Steamship Company, pre-eminent for over a lifetime, folded up in l925, and Dorothy's father had had to go into business for himself in Kobe. My father Otis A. Poole, honoured doyen of the tea trade in Japan had finally retired in 1926, to live at Cloyne Court in Berkeley, California, being then 79 years old. He made us a final visit in Summit and died not very long afterwards on April l/1929, of heart-failure. His ashes repose beside mother's in the Bluff Cemetery in Yokohama.
In 1932 my brother Bert retired from the Standard Oil in Japan, and he Maya and their four children, John, Eleanor, Molly and David, settled in Milton, Mass. the traditional Lindsley home. They spent several Summers at Squawn Lake, New Hampshire and invited us to stay with them. The young cousins, all of an age, thus came to know one another in happy surroundings.
In 1934 Dorothy, not having seen her parents in over eight years, went out alone to Japan in one of Dodwell's freighters, The "Penrith Castle", from New York via Panama Canal, Los Angeles, Manila, Hongkong and Shanghai to Kobe, an enjoyable trip with a congenial handful of passengers. There she spent the Summer with the Campbells at their house on Shioya Beach, fringing the Inland Sea eighteen miles from Kobe, experiencing one of the most destructive typhoons Japan had ever known. Their garden was completely washed away and house inundated by giant wares, forcing them to high ground, while several neighbouring houses were demolished. Dorothy came home via San Francisco and the Grand Canyon, arriving at Thanksgiving. She had found her parents both beginning to age, and Japan itself drably changed by modern innovations. The old familiar faces were gone and strange ones blankly replaced them. In truth, it was a sad revelation of how nothing ever remains static.
While she was away, I enjoyed an explorative motoring holiday with Colin Law of the Hongkong Bank, driving up through New England, pausing to glimpse Tony who was at Goose Rocks Beach studying painting under Eliot 0'Hara, and stopping off to see Dick and David visiting my brother's family at Sqawm Lake; then climbing Mt.Washington and eventually Mt.Katahdin in Northern Maine.
In February, 1936, I was invited by the Board to come over with Dorothy to London to discuss my ideas for the reorganisation of the Company. These involved a reduction of Capital to erase a long-standing deficit; and after six weeks of discussion, this was effected. It proved a turning point and the Company has prospered and paid good dividends ever since. While in England, Dorothy and I went down to Byfleet in Surrey to see my sister Eleanor and her family; and Dorothy also journeyed to Fort Rose, Scotland, where her brother Archie was Rector, and met his young wife, Jean Douglass. We also gave a large reception at Brown's Hotel in London, bringing together many old Japan friends. It is a pleasant memory for that was the last time we have been out of America.
Early in 1938 Dorothy's father, still in Japan, began to fail in health and was persuaded to retire and come with Calla to live with we in Summit. They arrived in May by air, he a very sick man, and in spite of an immediate operation and careful nursing, died on September 21/1938 at the age of 79. So passed on of the merriest and best-loved characters of the Far East. His ashes were sent to Scotland and scattered over the waters of the Clyde by his son Archie, then Rector of Trinity Church, Dunoon, who had come over in July for a last meeting with his father. Dorothy's mother spent the next year in London with her two widowed sisters, but as World War II intensified in 1940, she came back in June in the last ship to carry passengers, to live permanently with us in Summit, where I bought a house at 8 De Bary Place, the first one I ever owned.
Our boys, on leaving Lance School, each took two final years in Summit High School before going on to Haverford College near Philadelphia. One by one, on taking their degrees, they stepped out into the world on their chosen careers: Tony with the Grace Steamship Line and Pan America Grace Airways in South America; Dick in the U.S Department of State Service: and David as a flyer and nuclear engineer. Their individual careers will be described further on. During World War II Tony managed the Panagra Air Lines in La Paz, Bolivia and later also managed the Aerovias del Ecuador, including the German Airlines taken over by the Government. Dick joined the U.S Navy in Spain, came home for training in combat military government and reached Japan with the occupation forces a few weeks after her surrender. David won his wings in the air force as a fighter pilot but was picked out to be an instructor in flying and bombing and never get overseas.
Towards the end of 1943, Tony, then in La Paz, became attracted to a newcomer to the American Embassy, a American girl of Russian parentage, Luba Gustus, and they were married in La Paz on December 19th, 1943. Almost immediately afterwards, Tony was appointed Panagra's manager in Guayaquil, Ecuador, and there six weeks later, he contacted typhoid fever, was flown to Lima, Peru where, after a brave fight, he died on April 18/1944. For his young wife at four months it was a terrible tragedy; and for Dorothy and me a lifelong sorrow. Handsome, debonair and talented, he was one of those blythe spirits who are greeted with smiles wherever they go. One of his college mates wrote us that all of them who went through Haverford came out with something of Tony in them. Luba returned to America and came to stay with us in May, a dainty, distinguished girl who has been very dear to us ever since, she later married a young Englishman, Clive Parry, remarkably like Tony, and has two children, Katherine and Anthony. They all feel like our own family, and though he is a Cambridge Don, they have visited us often through the years.
In April, 1949, after fifty-three years of service with Dodwell & Co., I retired at the age of 68, ending as happy an association as anyone could wish for. I was given a royal send-off in New York, with letters and telegrams from all over the world and a complete silver service. That I was a bit homesick at first goes without saying, but it soon passed off in new surroundings.
Half a dozen years earlier our closest friends in Summit, Claude and Pen Argles, Far Easterners like ourselves, had retired to "Pine Hill", Ivy, Virginia, where we had annually visited them for the first week in May, becoming more and more attached to the lovely countryside and their group of friends. Two years before my approaching retirement, I bought a 75 acre estate known as "Missing Acres" (because it was suppose to have been 100 acres) five miles west of Ivy at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains. A rather handsome white residence, surrounded by lawns and tall trees, occupies the crest of a knoll commanding beautiful views in all directions. Pastures and woods run down to Lickinghole Creek half a mile any. To this ideal spot Dorothy, her mother Calla and I came down in May 1949 and it has been our home now for twelve years. Surrounded by retired people like ourselves, we have many good friends; and though the Argles had to go back to England, Charles and Nan Mott also from the Far East, came soon after to fill the gap. The life here is very pleasant; one can be as secluded or as socially active as one pleases. Charlottesville, with all the diversions of a University town, lies only twelve miles any, and Farmington Country Club, formerly one of the large old Virginia estates, is even nearer. Cocktail parties, mostly out of doors, are the favorite way of bringing friends together. Though Dorothy does'nt play l get quite a lot of bridge of which I am very fond now that I am no longer limber enough for golf. That is rather an understatement as in the last few years a touch of arthritis has made my knee very rusty and a walking stick my constant companion. It makes me sigh to think of my mountain-climbing days. Dorothy, like her mother, has become quite deaf but is a devoted and tireless gardener. When we first came down here, I tried my hand at the alluring hobby of raising cattle in a small way but it only took two years to find it was no child's play and cheerfully abandoned it. There are six acres of lawns and gardens, slopes and shrubbery around this house, and even with good help, it is all one can do to keep the place trim and orderly. So now I rent our pastures to my neighbouring farmer and have all the pleasure of watching his cattle grase the sunlit fields with a backdrop of mountains, yet have none of the responsibility of caring for them.
Naturally in the twelve years we have been here, things have gone on happening within our family, some happy, some sad.
In 1949 David, then working in the U.S. Army Nuclear Energy Plant at Oak Ridge, Tennessee, flew up to Providence, Rhode Island, to be best man at a friend's wedding; fell for a pretty little blonde bridesmaid who turned out to be the bride's cousin Sally Jarret, younger daughter of Isabel and Huge Jarret, a prominent woolen-mill owner of Woonsocket, R.I., with the upshot that they were married on June 23/1950 at the Jarret's beautiful residence at Woonsocket. Of course Dorothy and I went up for the happy event; and my brother Bert his wife Maya and daughter Eleanor came down from Boston. David & Sally honey-mooned in Bermuda and now have two sons, Jeffery born July 11/1952, and Christopher born November 11/1954. They lived first at Oak Ridge then Centerport, Long Island and finally at Rye, N.Y. close to the Sound where they can enjoy their small yacht. He has for some years been Project Engineer of the Nuclear Development Corp. of America.
My sister Eleanor and her husband N.G.Maitland, who retired from Shanghai in the late twenties with a comfortable fortune, had made their home ever since in West Byfleet, Surrey. Sad to relate, he died there February 14/1951 at the age of 76. Eleanor and her faithful maid-companion of 50 years, little Emily continue to live in West Byfleet. Their four sons, Francis, Jack, Otis and Donald all married and had children; but her eldest, Francis, a doctor, died at 33 in 1938, only a few months after his marriage. His three brothers and their families are all thriving, and the Maitland clan grows apace.
On August 15th, 1951, Bert's dynamic wife Maya Lindsley died of cerebral thrombosis in Milton, Mass. in her 67th year, a sad blow for Bert and their children who by then were all married and scattered except for Eleanor who was still in Milton. She and her children lived in the parental home and later she, Bert and the children moved permanently to Palm Beach, Florida, where they are now living in Eleanor's delightful house on Sea Spray Avenue. Eleanor has been a devoted daughter and taken wonderful care of him, especially in the last few years of frail health through emphysema. I last saw him in Palm Beach in 1960 and was saddened to find him so thin and fragile, though high-spirited as ever. A wonderful character.
Dick, whom we had begun to regard as a confirmed bachelor, while on a short leave from Colombia in 1957 discovered that he was so happy in the company of a Washington girl he had known since his previous leave that he could'nt contemplate the prospect of going back to Bogota without her, and with only ten days to go, he and English-born Jillian Hanbury became engaged and were married a week later, November 2/1957. Her father Anthony Hanbury, being in Natal and her mother, Una Rawnsley Brown in Paris, they were married from "Missing Acres". A wedding breakfast at Farmington Country Club and a service at St.Paul's Episcopal Church, Ivy, was followed by a jolly reception here at Missing Acres, looking its loveliest on a perfect Indian Summer day. For the next two years Dick was Chief of the Political Section in the Embassy at Bogota, whence they returned to Washington in August, 1959, for a four year spell in the State Department in charge of Peruvian affairs. They quickly bought a house in Langley Forest, Mclean, 15 miles out of Washington, where their son Anthony Hanbury Poole was born on February 6/1961.
In 1959 Dorothy's dear little mother Calla passed away. Soon after she joined us from England in 1940 arthritis made its appearance and by the time we came down to Virginia, she was already badly crippled. It seems a strange irony of fate that one so active as she, who had played on the Interport tennis teams in the Far East for fifty years, who skated and danced with equal zest should in the end be so cruelly crippled. In the Spring of 1951, she stumbled and fell in her room, breaking her leg near the hip, and in spite of an operation, never recovered the ability to walk. The years that followed were borne with unfailing courage and spirit till she finally slipped away on September 26/1959 at the age of 88. She is buried in St.John's churchyard, near Ivy. A very dear and merry person all her life.
And so it has come about, after all our wanderings, that 1962 finds Dorothy and me living by ourselves in happy retirement at "Missing Acres" gardening, pursuing our various hobbies and enjoying the companionship of kindred spirits around us. To sit under the trees and look out upon the peaceful hills, changing in every light, is a constant Joy. Our sons with their families and new relatives who all love "Missing Acres", make it a sort of Mecca and keep us young at heart; while friends of the past from all over the world visit us from time to time and keep old memories green. Sometimes, looking back upon our changeful lives, we wonder by what kind fate our paths were shaped to lead us eventually to this lovely corner of Virginia.
From Imaiohi, up the Kinu-gawa to Takahara and Ikari:
0ver the Shiczawa-toge to Shiobara: thence to Masu and over Nasu-yama to Shiono on the Arakai-gawa: along its course and the valley of the Okawa to Wakamatsu by Lake Inawashiro: Over Bandai-san and beside Lake Hebara, westward, through Oshio and Kitakata to Ichinoto: the ascent of Iide-san and down to the Ban-etsu railway at Yaiyiato.
October 17th to 30th, 1920.
V.D. Blatch and O. M. Poole.
SUNDAY, 17th OCTOBER:
Called for B. at 6.40 A.M. Not ready.
Terrific bustle. Hollow greeting from sleepy messmates. Hovered uneasily at B's elbow while he wolfed a forty-second breakfast.
Just caught the 6.56 electric from Sakuragicho; quite a cinema effect. B. collapsed in one corner: I expire in another. I eye his luggage suspiciously: a neat canvas kit-bag, four sizes too small for the contents, looks like a baked potato bursting through its jacket. He also sports a huge black raincoat, R.A.F. pattern: knew at a glance I should dislike it intensely: pictured myself chartering pack-horses to carry it over mountain ridges. Weighs 20 lbs. at least. B's face innocent and happy: slumber proceeds gently to make it more so. Cross Tokyo to Uyeno station and a few sleepy hours brings us to Imaichi, near Nikko, at 12.30.
Surrounding mountains black against a bright horizon. Fine old avenues of cryptomeria winding off in all directions. Grey overhead and the quiet of big spaces giving us welcome. Discovered that a diminutive railway ran thence up the Kinugawa as far as Fujiwara, 12 miles; a few hundred yards to the station. Giant cosmos, in full flower, eight feet high, growing by the roadside. Two rusty little engines toddling about on hands and knees, shunting aimlessly a few truck-loads of timber. Watched them till 1.30, when our train left. One tin-can engine, one toy passenger car, two open trucks of rice, sake and oddments. Helped an old lady of 50, in trousers, tie her bundle to the ceiling and shrunk from the advances of a dirty baby. B. much interested in his companions. Train frisked along noisily through villages and rice fields into villages of the Kinugawa. A gorge develops on our left, red banks and an emerald green torrent contrasting in colour with the green and brown of the hillsides. Arrived Fujiwara 2.45 P.M. Asked a fellow-passenger with whiskers whether we had best stay there for the night or go on to Takahara. Most obliging. Advocated the latter and helped us secure a coolie for the luggage. Set out at 3.20 in company with new friend. Quaint bird: brown felt hat, old serge suit, white gloves and a bundle in furushiki over his shoulder on a walking stick, and the whiskers, wandering silken wisps. He proved to be Akatsuka Jinshiro, of Kami-miyori, age 42, an ex-police officer of Tokio and a good sort. B. promptly rechristened him "King Solomon" for short. A pretty walk upstream, the river in its clean-cut walls always beside us. Reached Takahara at 5 P.M. and. crossed the stream to hot-springs on the other bank, known as Kawaji: just a cluster of linked buildings forming one inn, poised on a shelf above the river, on the face of the hillside. Very old and blackened.
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Natural hot bath in the open air, down a flight of rock-hewn steps to a ledge beside the river under an overhanging cliff. Two or three other spooky occupants. Dim lantern light spared our feelings. Velvety moonlight over the river.
Inn "Omiya". Height 1775 ft. Distance walked, 5 miles.
Carrier, Yen 3. Inn, hatago ¥ 3.50.
MONDAY. 18th October:
Left at 8.15 A.M. with King Solomon.
Upstream 5 miles to Ikari, a 200 ft. rise. Beautiful gorge of deep-cut greenish sandstone, in which tumbles a vivid blue torrent. The ravine so narrow that the road- is built out in many places. A mile below Ikari, the gorge suddenly opens out into a wide, mountain-bound valley, with reeds, pampas grass and forests on either side. Ikari nestles where it again narrows. Here we parted, from King Solomon, a good friend. Our long talks on the road had proved most interesting: relieved to find no antagonism over the California question, in spite of opposing views. Nowhere up country did we encounter the slightest animosity on this account.
At a short bridge beside two huts within sight of Ikari, we turned off, with a new porter, up the little trodden gully of the Shiozawa-toge. Path immediately merges into boulder-bed of precipitous torrent. Nimble work crossing dry-shod. B. very nippy. After one hour, quite outshone Pavlova. Passed a few huge logs, rough-shaped, stranded amidst boulders. Problem how they got there, or rather from the spot felled to the torrent. Precipitous sides of gully. Lunched at 12.15. one hour from Ikari, on fallen forest giant; our meal a cannon-ball of rice, rolled, in seaweed. We are living entirely on Japanese food on this trip. 1 1/2 hours from Ikari, the torrent suddenly becomes enveloped, in forest: grotto succeeds grotto, gems of beauty. Saw ruins of some timber enterprise with rusty aerial rope-way still running from deserted heaps of logs and sheds over the treetops to the unknown. Agility of our carrier marvellous. In spite of heavy packs, leads well, splashing through the water where we clamber over treacherous boulder-tops. Stream narrows rapidly, and we leave it unexpectedly. 25 minutes steep climbing through beautiful tall trees, all in glorious autumn tints brings us to top of pass at 3 P.M. Height 4550 ft. Restricted view of slopes directly in front, flaming red in afternoon sun on the browning leaves. To right, Takahara-yama, forest clad to summit and all shades from lavender to burnt sienna. Strong wind from the side of our ascent blowing myriad leaves over our heads, like snow-storm, into the valley below. Rested 15 minutes and plunged down into lovely woods. Chestnut trees, over-spreading path, showered small sweet chestnuts, full-ripe, on our path. Ate scores, until our tongue-tips sore. Beautiful view of Ogaka-yama, its tops in shadow, seen over the rolling crests of brilliant hued hills below us, the valley of Shiobara at its foot. Dusk drawing in. The abandoned aerial ropeway again beside us, its still laden cradles poised helplessly mid-air: lonely logs, hundreds of feet overhead, forgotten and unheeded. Reached upper Shiobara 5 P.M. Abandoned industry appears to be wood-tar intermediates for dyes. Arrived at inn, Komeya, 5.30 P.M. Very grand: makes us feel intensely grubby. Shiobara pleasing without being picturesque as a village. Shut in between hills: many inns. Ours good service and pleasant people, natural hot bath in up-to-date marble.
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Inn "Kameya". Height 1800ft. Distance walked, 20 miles.
Carriers. ¥3 to Ikari, ¥5. Ikari-Shiobara, plus 2.50 for inn. Our inn hatago ¥5.50. Bill, 16. plus tip 4.
TUESDAY. 19th October:
Arose early. Another glorious morning.
Embarrassing discovery of unabashed nymph in my bath. Retreated in confusion, slowly. Observed B. in misty distance, wallowing in icy river-bed. Grateful to him for doing it instead of me. I always feel so happy and warm when he comes in shivering but exultant. We do not see eye to eye in this and both gloat righteously. Maiden emerges in dainty elegance and silken kimono from bath. and gliding gracefully past, leaves me to full possession of a delicious steaming bath. From the latticed window, I can see a cascade of steaming hot water, ten feet high and equally broad, dashing from a rock cliff into the river, under a spreading maple tree. Very pretty in the slanting morning sunshine.
Posted some chestnut and white-bean yokan home to the little wife: despatched our luggage by a circuitous route and railway to our destination, and set out at 8.30 A.M. for Nasu hot springs, 22 miles to the North. Two hours down most picturesque gorge: well graded and surfaced road hacked out and built up on rocky side of steep gorge rejoicing in kakemono scenery. River sinks hundreds of feet below. Reached Sekiya 11 A.M. a village on the plain at mouth of Shiobara gorge. Height/8OO ft. Boot uncomfortable on ball of foot. Cause unknown: not worth troubling about. Long trudge through fields skirting range of hills on our left. Wide plain to horizon on right. Copses, villages and straight, narrow roads. Uninteresting. Reached Hikinuma 12. Suddenly found ourselves on brink of riverbed 100 ft. deep and 3/4 mile wide. Trail lost in boulders. Had lunch in middle. Difficulty in getting out on other side. Lost over half an hour in false trails. Put up two fat woodcock while searching. Lots of wild pigeon. Villages more infrequent in country beyond. Reached Momura 2.15. Confusing directions from village folk: dialect very strong and a bit beyond me. Boy on horseback, riding bare-back, accompanied us through endless forest of pines, seamed with wide grassy swathes. Crossed another wide river at Hosotake, 4 P.M. Following vague direction from old woman. Traversed wild and forsaken, scrub-covered moor, by scant paths. Emerged Yokoaawa 5 P.M. Growing dark. Foot blistered. Nasu-yama, our pearly hued beacon all day, now above us on left, purple and sharp. Path becomes wider, gummy clay mixed with rough lava rooks; channel sunk in moor, rising steadily. A wonderful sunset over the range on our left. Tired but determined. Lonely moor. Dog barking somewhere ahead. Come abruptly on Nasu, concealed in a gully, a village of inns built steeply, one above the other. Smell of sulphur. Put up at Komatsu-ya: inn been in the same family for 600 years: whole village used to be farther up the gully. 4 storied inn: others nearly all 3-stories. Unusual. Baths very strong of sulphur: a group of semi-open rooms, one containing six tanks of varying temperature. Glorious after hard day. Found foot badly blistered by group of nails badly placed. Yanked them out and decided better lie off one day. Very humble. B. apparently imperishable. His good humor unshattered by prospect.
Inn "Komatsuya". Height 2750 ft. Distance walked 22 miles
Luggage, ¥ 6.
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WEDNESDAY. 20th OCTOBER:
An indolent day. After breakfast, sauntered out and 1/2 mile up gully to the "Sessho Seki", or "Death Stone", in the midst of the solfatara where emerge the hot springs supplying Nasu with its scores of baths. An ominous spot; as if the moor had been smitten with mange. Heavy smell of sulphur: bleached ground, strewn with ugly, discolored boulders. The Sessho Seki is one of the largest, as big as a desk, purple, brown and looking almost meteoric. Tradition has it that anyone touching it will die and it is carefully fenced in. Obviously poisonous exhalations from the ground at that particular spot are responsible for the legend, and the doubting have but to turn their heads to two graves at their feet, where lie two out of three men who, on 6th July 1919, ventured to the stone and paid the penalty. The third escaped. The enclosure around the Death Stone is only as large as an average room and the gasses must be emitted rarely, else there would be many more curious visitors affected.
Wandered up onto the moor, where I did a water color sketch of Nasu-yama while B. trudged off for an hour. After lunch, crossed the gully and sketched Nasu village, treating my much improved foot with great consideration. B. again off on his own up towards the mountain. Lowering clouds: rain threatening. Back to inn at 5. Dark at 5.30, but no B. 5.45 Inn alarmed, as it is not good to be benighted on the moor. A wrong trail might carry one miles astray. Organised search party. Decided to track B. myself. Got a paper lantern, crossed ravine and out into moor. Inky-black, a soft, sobbing breeze and weird shadows. Followed path upwards, hallooing frequently. Sudden steps ahead. Thank heavens, its B., cheerful and nonchalant, oblivious to panic in village. Had walked to Siberia and back, via Hades, as nearly as I could make out. Great rejoicing at inn on our arrival at 6,45 P.M. Hot bath and much dinner of raw fish, mushrooms, soups, stews and several bowls of rice. Our capacity for rice increasing enormously.
Distance walked: B. 18 miles. Myself 4.
THURSDAY. 21st OCTOBER:
Raining. A day indoors. Everyone in neighbouring inns inspecting weather disconsolately. Extraordinary how the Japanese will stand about brushing their teeth meditatively for half an hour. Whole village at it from 7 to 10 A.M. I sketched from our balcony, while B., driven to desperation, composed sheafs of ballad poetry, in seven cantos. Excellent results, his, - not mine. My style distinctly paleolithic, but it passes the time harmlessly. Played B, several games of go-ban and go. Very scientific, seeing we knew scarcely the first principles. Great slaughter of opposing armies. Barometer fallen 700 ft. Very unpromising.
FRIDAY. 22nd OCTOBER:
Rain till 9 A.M. Clouds breaking over plains below, which become deep indigo and microscopically clear. Can see trains creeping up northward. Still ugly and lowering over Nasu-yama, black clouds and mist swirling down to within a few hundred feet of us. Strolled down village, out on moor and back
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for tiffin. Strong wind in afternoon. Went for long tramp Southward, around the skirts of the mountain. A terrific gale howling down from the blackness of Nasu-yama, making a noise on the moor like a concealed torrent. In and out of gullies and woods. Found many knots of horses, turned out to graze, and semi-wild, sheltering in hollows and ravines. Six miles out came upon charcoal-burners camp in tall woods, open glades shimmering with sky-blue smoke. Picturesque woodsmen and a woman or two. Turned homewards. Woods bending flat to gale: ourselves buffetted madly. Leaves flying everywhere. Mountain now clear. A wonderful sunset, beams of light streaming down like ladders from apertures in the indigo clouds. Back to inn at dark. Wind suddenly ceasing. Arranged to depart early next morning.
Distance walked, 16 miles. Whole bill for 3 days. ¥ 36
plus ¥ 5 chadai.
SATURDAY. 23rd OCTOBER:
Off at 7.45, our packs divided between two bearers in view of heavy work ahead. Past Sessho Seki and up a corded path, down which skids of sulphur are drawn. On nearing mountain find ourselves in dead forest of bleached trees. Very overcast hitherto, but now breaking, with glimpses of blue sky. Nasu-yama breezily clear at intervals, just above. Beyond, on right, some jagged, pink peaks, wreathed in scurrying mists. Pass through village of sulphur workers. An aerial rope-way from the crown of Nasu, spinning intermittently with cradle-loads of crude sulphur. Partial refining going on in a cluster of sheds nearby. Continued on up barren, pink gorge. No vegetation. Reached top of ridge between Nasu's crest and the pearly pink peaks at 10 AM. View down the other side disappointing: just a few sweeping ranges with no conspicuous features. With one guide, ascended Nasu. Passed active vents of steam and gasses, each vent housed about in stone walls so as to leave a single orifice as large as one's head. at the mouth of which sulphur deposits form rapidly, like treacle drippings. Skirted the back of the peak to the ridge beyond: then turned straight upwards over loose rubble slide of 100ft terminating against broken rock masses and perpendicular, fissured walls, jammed with large fragments. Worked up arduously. Rather tricky business. B. assailed with weakness of the knees several times, but determination of spirit conquered, curious how an airman, to whom heights mean nothing, can feel discomfort doing rock work. Must be a matter of poise and familiarity. Climbed up behind one of Nasu's ears and onto his rounded head. Bare, tumbled rocks, all jagged. A few wisps of steam mingling with puffs of cloud. Mounted topmost crag 10.50 AM. and photographed in striking attitude of modest conquest. Height 6400 ft.
Down by easier, circuitous route to saddle, and back below steam vents to top of pass, which we left at 11.30 AM. Jogged down slopes of clay and rubble to beginnings of path through bamboo grass and sparse woods. Looking back, fine view of mountain top, streaming with smoke like a recently subdued conflagration. Reached Sandagoya hot springs at 12.30; merely half a dozen unpretentious tea-houses in a hot little nook of bamboo-clad hills. Height 4900 ft. Half-hour tiffin of cold cannon-ball, sterno soup and millet cakes, importuned for a share by 8 impudent chickens who came up on the tatami and meandered casually around the room until boosted out.
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Left at 1 PM. Over shoulder and steeply down through woods by faint trail, juicy and snake-haunted, to stream at bottom of ravine: a drop of 700ft, then an equally steep climb through bamboo reeds, head high, along wet, gutter-like trail to the top of the 0-toge, or Great Pass, 4800 ft. altitude. Gloomy weather again, and simply a view of tangled hills on either side. Left top at 2 pm. without pausing for more than half a cigarette, and down into forest covered gorge. Relentless rock surfaces protruding through the leaf-covered path. making rough walking. Trees bare and grey, with occasional flare of red or scarlet maple, in full leaf. Very effective. As we descended, came suddenly into area of foliage. - brilliant yellows and light browns: then abruptly into denser woods of every shade of autumn, contrasted with the deep green bamboo spear-grass bordering the path. Tall elms, beeches, chestnut and silver birches, with occasional rarer trees, all of varied leaf and shade. A fairy-land indeed. Time after time we would halt to exclaim at some new riot of colour or glory of form. Sometimes, in long arbors, we seemed almost to float in an atmosphere radiant with hallowed light, a gree-gold mellowness that filled one's soul with melody. I voiced some of it. B. fell rapidly behind. Met a hunter with nondescript black wonk: no game, but a bag-full of mushrooms. First habitations 4 PM. at Nogiwa: two mossy, mountain farms, half-deserted. Country more open again and valley rapidly giving place to grassy moor, copse-covered, reached a big river at 4.50 pm. Road to Tajima crosses it and due West for 3 ri. Straight ahead, lies Ochiai, 2 ri: and to the NE. Shiono, distant 3 ri. Both Tajima and Shiono are on the Arakai-gawa, but the latter a good eight miles downstream in the direction of our next day's tramp, so although the promised accommodation for the night is poorer, we make for it. Darkness falls, forest track sploshy and ill-defined. Owls hooting round about. Sudden shrieks of light girlish laughter from some lonely huts. B. wants to know what the deuce anyone has to laugh about out here in the spooky woods. Give it up. Lost the way in a boggy clearing. Tried to read some road posts by aid of matches. Hit upon it at last. Lights ahead. Straggling village, very picturesque in early moonlight. Overhanging roofs, mud walls, open fires in middle of huts. An occasional, shuffling figure. Inn merely a large farm-house. Enter upon quaint scene. Floor of pounded earth, the well on one hand, a shaggy horse in a stall on the other; and on the raised living floor amidst all this, an open fire at which half a dozen figures, in silhouette or bold red relief, drank tea and sake and laughed hilariously. Sudden hush and jovial greeting from the two most mellowed peasants. Apparently in for a rough and ready night. Hung our rather sodden boots over a beam and followed fourteen-year old daughter of the house to the two guest-rooms. An unexpected haven, quite neat and clean. We have one, our men the other. Bath in alcove next the horse, in full view of family. No hot spring tonight: just a wooden cauldron with a live furnace let in. Sat against it inadvertently; instant results. Sounds of more roistering during dinner and another party of four road-menders blows in. Chanted songs with gutteral gusto for the next hour. Peasants down below growing more and more unintelligible to each other. Gradual subsidence. Off to sound slumber at 9 PM. waked occasionally by the chickens on the rafters spelling off the hours. A great day.
Inn. forgotten. Height 1650 ft. Distance walked 28 miles.
__________Bill. self & coolies. ¥8. ¥1.50 chadai not looked for.
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SUNDAY. 24th OCTOBER:
Up early. B. insists river is somewhere near and hobbles off precariously on wooden clogs for his icy dip. Believe he compromised on a little field ditch. Got wet, anyway. B's yellow hair and freckles always look particularly comic over an awase kimono in the morning, especially when his hair is wet and on end. They don't seem to synchronise. Shaved by light of a single ray of sunshine streaming through a knot-hole near the family store house. Left our precious little mirror behind us there. Good breakfast served by scared-dumb, shiny-faced maid. Kitten made three ascents of scaffolding to our balcony, to participate in the meal. The two drunken peasants still drinking happily down below: other rioters off before dawn.
Set out at 8.20 AM. seen off by whole family and the two peasants the latter very chummy and each chiding the other for thrusting his drunken company on us. One accompanied us on our way a couple of miles, rubbing elbows first with B. and then with me, and talking volubly. Astonished and distressed when I told him I was sorry I had no cigarette to offer him as I never smoked. Immediately dug out a crumpled fifty-yen note and pressed me to take it and buy myself some tobacco. Failing with me, he implored B. almost kissing him. Forgot it for a while and walked with us over a very fresh little piece of river gorge road and through Kariyasu. Revived his idea and did O-jing to me to get me to take the money. Most embarrassing. Finally announced that the hour had come for 0-wakare and left us with elaborate farewells and God-speeds, taking with him a wonderful atmosphere of old cork.
Long succession of gorges and river scenes, banked by high hills. Good road, flinty hard. Yunofcanii Onson a gem of a spot, the inn perched on the steep rock-walls of the river and overhung with. maples and tall elms, all in autumn splendour. Reached by a suspension bridge. Passed it at 10 AM. Wish we could have spent a night there. Reached Okawa at noon and tiffined in roadside hut. Left again 12.20 PM. refreshed. Amiable farmer as companion for a mile or two. Our bearers wonderful walkers: keep steadily just in sight ahead, gaining when we take photographs, losing but little when we don't. B. is a wizard on the flat. Gets me there, though I have a shade the best of it climbing. He swing's along tirelessly. Discover topmost vertebra of my spine absolutely lame: swop my rucksack for B's army bag and recover rapidly. Another picturesque spring at Shin-yu, also built on the river's banks. A hot spring comes right up in the heart of the river, amongst the boulders. After passing Mameda, or Miyori, a very long village, observed another charming hotspring, called 0-yu, with access across a private bridge. Valley now opens out into a wide plain.
Reached Wakamatsu finally at 4.30 PM. A long hard stretch. Passed under wells of old, dismantled castle. This daimiyo was the last to hold out for the Shogun. Turned out of Wakamatsu and on to Higashi-yama. - a village of tea-houses in a beautiful little twisty gorge, 2 miles away to the Eastward. Here are natural hot springs, beautiful and most luxurious teahouses; and here comes all Wakamatsu to revel, entertain and make merry. A mountain torrent plashes down the center of it all, overhung with trees. The first swagger place turned us away, but Shintakiya, equally luxurious, gave us sanctuary. Our room resplendent with gold screens, bronze statue-vase and bow-stand. Spacious hot bath, cut out of rock: eight other occupants in with us, including a young married couple and their child.
Inn Shintakiya. Height 950ft. Distance 26 miles. Inn
hatago ¥5. Bill ¥24 pine; 5 tip. Carriers ¥5 each per day.
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MONDAY. 25th OCTOBER:
Another lazy day. Pretty little geisha of 15 years sent to serve us our breakfast. B. lost his heart. Bade farewell to our two faithful bearers from Nasu. Discovered they were carpenters and plasterers by trade and had undertaken the expedition more to oblige the Nasu inn-keeper and have a good time than for profit. A sterling pair.
Strolled through the village after breakfast, taking photos. A quaint place, nothing but inns. Overhanging eaves and yellow plaster walls. Some alleys between buildings almost medieval. After walking apace up the ravine with B., returned and did a bit of a sketch, standing on a bridge: while B, wandered about the hills till lunch. Delicious meal. The fish steak a Mebutsu of the place.
Off at 2 P.M. and walked into Wakamatsu. Mended B's burst shoe and off by 3.35 train to Okinajima, at the foot of Bandaisan. View of the mountain perfect as we approached. B. chummed up with an army officer and conversed shamelessly in French. Too shy to participate, ridiculous. Arrived Okinajima 4.40 PM. Three shacks mark the station: hideous hole, but nothing daunts us now. Deposited our packs in a room 8 ft. square, devoid of ornament and as luxurious as a tea-box, and sallied out again for an evening stroll. Bandaisan very steep, a cone furrowed down the centre by a scarred gulch: bare from base to summit. All about us a grassy moor, like the base of Fuji. Happened on a beautiful little farm scene: the quaint, thatched houses, overshadowed by a clump of green-black cryptomerias: a silhouette, except for the faintest pink etching from the afterglow of the sunset: and between the soaring conifers, a harvest moon in full sail through the silvery heavens. The peasant folk, still working at threshing grain, paused at the unusual sight of two foreigners, sprung from nowhere: then lapsed back into their chant.
Sat up till 9 PM. waiting for the return of the innkeeper, who finally turned up and arranged for carriers to go with us to Yonezawa, over the mountain, stopping one night at Hebara.
Inn Yoshinoya: hatago Yen 1.25 each. Bill 2.50 plus .50 tip.
Height 1850 ft. Distance walked 3 miles.
TUESDAY, 26th October:
Perfect weather again. Left at 8.45 AM. sending one carrier with our baggage to meet us at Bandai-Onsen, to the west of the peak: and ourselves, with one man free of luggage, climbing straight up the mountain. First a moor, sprinkled with low pines and scrub, rising first slowly, then abruptly. Looking Back from 1000 ft. higher up, a beautiful kakemono effect of mists and pale blue mountain ranges, lake Inawashiro shimmering between. Going now very steep, but free of difficulty. View widens until endless detail appears below, of field, village and mountain, Reached top on the stroke of noon, height 5950ft. Magnificent panorama beyond. The whole northern half of the cone is shot almost completely away, and spread out for a dozen miles over the country-side. One stands on a precipice, gazing at the devastation of the eruption of 1888, still awe inspiring in its manifestation of illimitable power. A chain of four lakes, 20 miles in combined length, lies where once ran the peaceful channel of the Nagase-gawa. Great hills of slate-coloured
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boulders, each as big as a dray, rise here and there amidst oceans of yellow mud and congealed torrents of lava. Near at hand, broken cliffs, grey, sulphur and maroon are poised as the explosion left them. Their chasms swirl about ones feet and a false step from giddiness would send one spinning two or three hundred feet down to the steaming fissures below. Red, slimy pools, lie amidst the chaos round about.
Found our guide praying at the tiny cairn shrine. He was a lad of 16 at the time of the eruption, living at the foot of the mountain just where he does now. Gave a graphic description of how he was flung down and the awe-inspiring sight. To our left, linked with Bandai, lies another older crater. Nekomata-dake, its summit now occupied by a verdure-clad lake. In all directions, sparkling clear. To N.E. Jizo-yama, serried with volcanic action. South-wards, beyond Lake Inawashiro, ranges of blue hills, amongst them Nasu-yama and Nantaisan, picked out with difficulty amidst the scores of peaks.
Had a bit of lunch on top and left at 12.40 PM. Bandai-Onsen 1.30 P.M., a bleached rest-house. Could put up for the night at a pinch. Another meal there with sulphrous water to drink. Pored over map and suddenly decided to change all plans, abandon Yonezawa and swing off Westward to climb lide-san, whose bluff contour, seen from the summit, had proved irresistibly alluring.
Off again 8 PM. Descended through masses of gigantic boulders: then waving sweeps of pampas grass, boggy underfoot, fringed along the sky-line by copses of beeches, grey and sienna. Strange layers of hot and cold air. Passed a brook, chattering with the clatter of small blocks of wood, rough shaped for bowl-making; the source invisible and unsuspected, the destination obscure. Steadily dropping towards Lake Hebara, circuitously. Finally reached inlet, occupied by gravel diggers. Weird place to come for gravel. Level of lake apparently sinking. Dead trees fringe its shores, which are barren and show outcroppings of bare lava. Reached Nagamine 4 PM. Lovely view across lake of Bandai-san, lavender and burnt-sienna in light of setting sun. Kagamine was half submerged by the rising lake at the time of the eruption, and for years one could see its street and houses still standing, fathoms deep. Only the upper houses now remain. Altitude of lake 2540ft.
Crossed over a pass there and down into wide ravine. Very pretty with the sunset ahead and the moon rising high behind, the red light and the silvery-green contesting for supremacy. Passed several quaint hamlets, and a picturesque horseshoe fall. Reached Oshio 5.50 PM. The maps show hot-springs, but there is only one iron spring, harnessed in a well at the roadside. A poor village with humble inn over a shop. Good dame reluctant to admit us: all tired out with harvesting. Consented out of pity, as we should have had to walk 2 ri more to Kitakata. A shabby place: had to share two barn-like rooms with out guides, the coolies. Hot bath going strong in deep tub. Sat in it, one at a time, to our necks, and grunted joy. Glorious moon outside. The curious thatched huts and close hillside appear like stage scenery in its light. To bed and a glorious sleep.
Inn, Nakajima-ya. Hatago Yen 1.30 each. Bill. Yen 7.80
for ourselves and coolies, plus Yen 1 tip. These farm-inns appear not to expect tips. Height 1540 ft. Distance walked, 16 miles. Carriers Yen 2.50 each plus inn fare.
They are continuing with us another day.
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WEDNESDAY. 27th October:
Left Oshio at 8.25 All. After scanning the heavens. B. chanted prophetically:
"Mackerel sky. mackerel sky,
lot long wet and not long dry."
Soon it became overcast and the rain came at nightfall. A long steady drop down a widening valley into the plain brought us to Kitakata at 10.55 AM. Paddy-field country, uninteresting but for the bright flowers in the corner of every farmyard, very decorative against the buff plaster walls. Had some top-hole cakes by the wayside. More long, straight road: then low hills, pine covered or red-brown with close scrub-oak. Our two carriers here lagged terribly and our progress slower momentarily. After more confused valleys and fields, reached Aikawa at 3 PM. Thence a good road up a prosperous valley for another hour to Ichinoto. A beautiful old-time village, in good repair. Towering masses of cryptomeria: a stream down the middle of the road: temples here and there, and stone lanterns or bits of shrines inset at the roadside. Above all, everyone seemed happy, particularly the girls, all bright faced and laughing. Many thatched brown godowns, their roofs lifted 2 feet clear above the walls, for ventilation. Asked our way to the inn, which is the headman's house: Oisugi Shinshiro. Found him conversing with a dear old chap of 66 and a handsome, lithe hillman of 30 odd years, both mellowed with sake. Our host, a dour, bullet-headed man, made to extend us scant welcome, but the old Johnnie took charge and gathered us to his, the inn's and the village's bosom. He even accompanied us upstairs to our room: expressed bewilderment at my ability to talk his own tongue fluently: wept that he was too old to guide us up the mountain: tendered his younger companion as our guide and cited the wild dangers ahead. The hillman, vowing to serve us to the death, bowed low at every word I uttered. It seemed we should have to start at 3 AM. and. after scaling precipices and crossing knife-edge rook-bridges, battling with snow and icy blasts on top, get back at 9 PM. When they left us an hour later, all was arranged.
Looking about, we found our room wide and clean, but ceiling-less just the crude rafters overhead. Very unusual. Took turns at a hot tub in a grated cage at the back of the house. After dinner our host came up to make arrangements for the morrow. Astonished to hear all fixed up. Our dashing hillman had gone off without saying a word to him. On our hosts advice and the information that he had much sake taken, called it a washout and engaged two other men. Good thing too: of our first pals. we never heard again. The new men insisted we should take two guides: only one dangerous should we be overtaken by snow. Three students, crossing from Echigo early this spring, had been lost in the snow and their bodies never found, although whole villages had searched.
Raining lightly outside, but innkeeper rather optimistic about the morrow's weather. Decided to start anyway, except in actual rain. To bed at 8.30 PM.
Inn: Oisugi Shinshiro. Hatago, ¥2.50. Height 900 ft.
Distance walked, 19 miles. Carriers 2.50 each per day.
plus hotel fare and railway back to Okinajima. Paid off
the two old brigands, who returned direct next day.
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THURSDAY. 28th OCTOBER:
Up at 3 AM. Broken clouds overhead, with the moon peeping through. Off at 4.10 AM. with two uncouth but capable guides. All flying light. Seven miles up a beautiful ravine, mystic in intermittent moonlight. First hint of dawn at 5.25 AM. and daylight in 15 minutes. Reached Kawairi 5.50 AM. A small hamlet just where the torrent emerges from steep mountains. Height 1575 ft. Could stop there for the night, in humble quarters. In a few minutes enter forest of tall beeches, elms and occasional cryptomeria, fairy-like in marvellous hues. Reminds one of the Kamikochi valley in the Japanese Alps. Encountered a huge yellow toad disputing our path. Abruptly start the real climb up a shoulder, still forest covered. Roots across the path form natural steps, somewhat slippery. Find rest huts at intervals, all torn down and stacked securely for the winter, to be rebuilt for the pilgrim season next Summer. Discover that this is a sacred mountain frequented by pilgrims. 1st Station 6.45 AM. Can now see over surrounding mountains to Bandaisan, a purple silhouette against the bright sunrise, narrowed to a rift along the horizon by heavy clouds. Wonderful sight. Height 2600 ft. Forest diminishing. 3rd station 7.30 AM. 3400 ft. 5th 8 AM. 4200 ft. The angle of ascent now relents somewhat, and the forest is now merely scrub. 6th Station 8.45 AM, stands on the summit of Jizo-yama (4700), whence we looked across a chasm to another chain, higher, more rugged and its rocky flanks half hidden in flying clouds. The link with this ridge is a narrow, rock causeway, a few feet wide, its crest a single, tip-tilted stratum of granite which has resisted erosion. It is not level, but, as it were, festooned across the chasm: and its transit occupies 45 minutes. Oki-ga-mine is the name given this bridge: and the peak it runs to on the far ridge is Hasu-no-onzu, altitude 5425ft. Here stands the 6th station, surrounded by walls of stones on four sides to protect it from heavy winds. A couple of wooden shrines, three feet high, face the rest hut, containing only lumps of stone instead of images. Had a nibble of rice and hard-boiled egg and at 9.45 AM. started along the ridge. Barrow in places, a saw-edge, with continuous ups and downs. Here and there care needed, but in any decently interesting spot, chains exist to make it easy. Clouds still swirling near us, but never seeming to envelope us. Good views of still another range to our left, also working gradually up to Ide-san, which is, in fact, the converging point of four gaunt ridges. 2 1/4 hours steady going to the top. Noon 6760 ft. The switch-back effect at the very last is most accentuated, two steep pinnacles of 300 and 600 ft to surmount. Also a nice bit of saw-edge ridge, bent over sideways as if by the wind. The last 3OO ft. shrouded in cloud, and no view at all, consequently, to the west. In fair weather, one sees the Sea of Japan, and the West coast. For ourselves, it was satisfaction enough to caress the little shrines in the wailed enclosure - where also are two small huts in which pilgrims shelter: - and we wasted no time dropping back 300 ft. out of the clouds to the next shelter, where we had a good tiffin of icy rice-balls and bully-beef. From here fine views to North, over mountain ranges to the Yonezawa plain: and Southwards into a tumbled mass of indigo storm clouds, nearer columns dazzling white in sunshine. Dainichi-dake and Eboshi-dake, peaks of the Westernmost spur of Ide-san, looked very fine in this setting.
Leaving at 12.30 PM., we were back again (over the same route) on Hasu-no-onzu at 2.40 PM. Much clearer now than in the morning: but the less pretty for the complete absence of clouds, which give such a sense of height when they spin below one.
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Found it difficult to gain on our upward times. Jizo-yama 3.25 PM. The descent from here trying on account of the slippery roots. At the bottom 4.40 and Kawairi 5.10 PM. Darkness now fell and again we could only sense the beauties of the gorge down to Ichinoto. Met by our bullet-headed inn-keeper with a lantern, half an hour out on the road, come to light us in, but the glow of the lantern in our eyes made the going more difficult rather than easier. Our long strides forced the garrulous chap to toddle to keep up. Reached the inn 6.45 PM., going strong. A pretty hefty day: 35 miles, they told us at the inn: and seeing we had been going hard for 14 1/2 hours, with only two half-hours off for food, we reckoned it to be just about that distance. Our out-stripped coolies turned up 20 minutes later, having done splendidly all day. Gave them sake, as, indeed, we regularly did with all our men: tumbled into a hot bath, and early to bed.
Inn, whole bill Yen 19 plus 3. chadai. Coolies, Yen 5.-
each. 50 sen sake-dai and a tuck-in.
Distance walked 35 miles.
FRIDAY. 29th October:
Off at 9 AM without even a vestige of lameness, much to our surprise. Wandered slowly down through Aikawa and many prosperous farming hamlets, to Yamato, on the Ban-etsu railroad, which runs from Koriyama to the West-coast. Everyone at work threshing rice, the girls with their heads tied up in white cloths and all wearing the old-fashioned trousers of the mountain folk. Had our stodgy bento in a temple compound, under a magnificent, golden ichiyo tree. Reached Yamada 12.30 PM. and did a quick sketch down by the river, while B. walked up it. He fell in and spent most of his time drying himself and snoozing. Train 2.30 PM. for Koriyama. Passed under Bandaisan again and retraced our climb. Three stations before Koriyama, it being now dark, observed a blaze of light from the windows of a luxurious long building at the foot of some hills. Enquired if it was perchance a hot-spring, and finding it was, bundled hastily out on the platform of Atami station. The inn five minutes back up the line. A most happy brain-wave. It proved a very fine place, with glorious big radium and sulphur baths. Spent our last night like lords, instead of in a noisy hotel on the Koriyama railway-station square.
Inn. Ichiriku: hatago Yen 4.50. Bill Yen 9.- plus 1.50.
Height, 1000 ft. Distance walked. 8 miles. Coolie to
Yamato, Yen 3.
SATURDAY. 30th October:
Another long, hot bath and huge breakfast. Most extraordinary place for creating an appetite. Good walks round about, apparently. Off again at 9 AM. by rail, and so to Yokohama by 6 PM. Met at the station by Dorothy and little Tony. and decided that home-coming is not the least joy of a holiday. Dropped B. at the Club and, with his cheery farewells, our delightful jaunt came to an end.
Total expense of the trip: Yen 145.- each.
This paper transcribed from an original carbon copy by A Maitland 16/8/2004.
23/6/2008: combined with OM Poole Walk
Issue Date: 25/8/2010
A transcription of work by OM Poole.
OTIS MANCHESTER POOLE Family:
Eldest son of Otis Manchester Poole and Dorothy Campbell Poole, was born March 29th, 1917, at No.68 Bluff, Yokohama, Japan, and died April 18/1944 at Lima, Peru, when only twenty seven.
Tony's early childhood was spent in Yokohama where his parents lived at No.68 Bluff, in a pleasant two-storied house owned by Dr. "Judy" Wheeler, (who, incidentally brought Tony, his two brothers and even his mother into the world) half way along the main Bluff road at the head of a gully running down to the Japanese village of Kitagata which girdled the spur of the beautiful "Bluff Gardens". All the rooms of 68 Bluff, on both floors, faced Southwards down the valley and had wide, glassed in verandas overlooking a small hedged lawn, - an ideal, sunny playground.
Tony's devoted baby-amah, Old Mine, the daughter of a Sugita fisherman, brought up several foreign children, and being now over fifty, her kind, honest face reassembled an old ivory "netsuke"; but never was there a more loving and gentle soul. The house-boy, Izhii, who had been with Tony's grandmother Poole for years until her death, was now an equally loyal and indulgent family retainer.
With the pleasant diversions of a Far East port, and occasional vacations up country at Karuizawa or the seashore of Dzushi and Kamakra, this was the setting of Tony's and his younger brother's earliest years.
When Tony was 5 years old, Dick 3, and David 1 1/2, they experienced their first long sea-voyage of seven weeks from Japan around via Suez to England. With their parents and a rosy young English nanny, Miss Flitton, they left Japan at the end of February 1922, on the Nippon Yusen Kaisha's newest liner "Haruna Maru" with a year's leave ahead. They stayed one night with their Aunt Eleanor and Uncle George Maitland and small cousin Donald, in Shanghai and were fascinated by their first sight of Chinese throngs and junks on the river. Even more exciting was Hongkong with its blue bay encircled by high hills; but it was the tropical fragrance, the palm trees and the dark-skinned natives of Singapore, Columbo and Suez that most enthralled then, especially a turbanned snake-charmer in Ceylon whose cobra rose out of its basket, swaying to the notes of his flute, and who then pulled yards of silk ribbon and flags out of his mouth while chanting "Indian belly velly nice!".
Passing through the Suez Canal with the yellow desert stretching away on either side also impressed the children, followed by the clamour of Port Said and not long afterward, two days ashore at Marseille.
Arriving finally in London on April 12th, the family moved down almost immediately to the hamlet of Brook in the New Forest where a cottage awaited them in which to spend the Spring and Summer. It was a lovely spot with the forest in front and behind; and the forest glades in which the boys could roam at will were already full of blue-bells and Spring flowers. Never having seen grazing cattle (the bamboo grass of Japan precluding this except in the Northern Island) the browsing cows and all the other friendly farm animals were a constant delight to the three brothers, Tony wanting to know if the brown cows gave us Ovaltine!
At the end of a perfect Summer the family moved to the windy, and often rainy, moors of Devonshire, staying at Lustleigh; and when Winter approached, moved back to London for a final few months during which the boys' father had to leave them after X'mas and return to Japan via America ahead of then. It was not until March that they and their mother finally set sail via Suez, a dashing young Danish governess, Miss Lauritsen, accompanying them. Tony, now six, benefited by her excellent coaching in his first lessons; and once back home again at 68 Bluff, made a start at the piano. It turned out, however that her real ambition was to become a stenographer and at the end of Summer she left the family just prior to the Great Earthquake of September 1st, getting caught up country at Miyanoshita where she had gone for a preliminary vacation. Pluckily, she made her way back on a bicycle, with three young foreigners, was found at dusk wandering alone along the desolate, burned out Bluff, and taken on board one of the rescue ships in Yokohama harbour two days after the catastrophe. To complete the story, she married well six months later in Shanghai!
The family, including the boys' parents and their great-aunt Mabel Fraser all escaped death or injury in the quake and after enduring the harrowing experiences described elsewhere by Tony's father, found refuge on board Mr.Campbell's large yacht "Daimyo" in Yokohama harbor, Tony was six at the time of the disaster, which left a deep impression on him, not so much of fear as of rebellion against the ruthless destruction. As he was being carried on his grandfather's shoulders over the massive ruins of Church blocking the Bluff road, from which point one could look across the tumbled cemetery to the raging fire consuming the city below, Tony asked "Commodore, why does God let all this happen? I would'nt be as cruel as God!". A strange thought from a six year old who had himself just escaped being killed.
With hundreds of other homeless refugees, the family was evacuated two days later in the "Empress of Canada", the boys, their mother and faithful Mine going on to Shanghai to stay three months with their Aunt Eleanor and Uncle George Maitland while their father disembarked at Kobe to reassemble his scattered office staff and start the long task of reconstruction. In the tranquillity of the Maitland home and with the companionship of their five year old cousin Donald and the ministrations of his kind and capable nurse-governess Emily, the boys soon recovered from their experiences and in December returned with their mother and Mine to Kobe where, for the next year and a half, they lived with their father in the Shea house above San-bon-matsu, a shrine on Kitano-cho, the highest residential street of Kobe. For the three Summer months of 1924 all moved up to a semi-Japanese cottage by the 7th green of the golf course on the crest of the Rokkosan hills, 2,500 ft, high, above the Inland sea, where their father joined then every weekend. Tony always remembered the liquid song of the little green Uguisu birds when sunrise first tipped the mountain crests.
In May, 1925, Kobe, historically immune from earthquakes was startled by a violent one in mid-morning, spreading consternation but doing little serious damage. The boy's mother, who had dashed up the hill from the shopping district to make sure they were safe, suffered a reaction; and the firm compassionately suggested that it was a good time, now that reorganisation was virtually completed, for the boys' father to take the family away for 3 or 4 months somewhere out of Japan to recuperate. Gratefully they left Kobe on July 7/1925 in the "Empress of Asia" for Victoria, B.C. where, settling down in Oak Bay, Tony attended a good English school and continued his piano lessons. When, at the end of 4 months, the boys' father was asked to relieve the firm's New York Manager while on sick leave, the family remained on in Victoria pending his return; but when six months passed and his appointment in New York had become permanent, he came to fetch them at the end of June 1926 and they settled down in Summit, New Jersey, a wooded suburb 18 miles across the Hudson from New York, which for the rest of their boyhood became "home" to Tony and his brothers. Since l922, Tony had been entered for Marlborough School in Wiltshire, England, and for a fine prep-school before that which he would have been due to enter at the age of ten. Now that the family was to be permanently in America, all that was changed and the boys could be brought up in American schools. So in the end the dire calamity of the earthquake turned out a blessing, in one way at least.
The three boys were a singularly close-knit trio, collaborating happily in all sorts of imaginative pursuits, making puppet shows, model ships and airplanes writing illustrated stories, devising new indoor war games, building tree-houses and making all their Christmas presents for their elders. They had their own workshop and were dextrous with tools. Tony as the eldest, was naturally the leader and some if his model galleons that have been preserved are still astonishing.
All three boys at first attended Miss Hoods school for small fry, and about a year later progressed to a private school for boys, the excellent Lance School of Summit where they made many lifelong friendships. As a compact trio, the boys provided a nucleus for impromptu games of touch football, baseball and other enterprises and always had a group of boys around them.
In 1928, when Tony was eleven, he had his first Summer away from home at Lancewood Camp in the Catskills, run by his headmaster Harold Lance a taste of open air life including hill climbing and horse-back riding, from which he returned a sturdy, tow-headed, self-reliant youngster hardly recognisable under freckles and tan. While there, his drawings and soap-sculptures attracted the attention of a well-known New York portrait painter Ali Ben Hagen summering nearby who asked to meet his parents, invited them all to his studio and after giving Tony a trial run at an easel, offered to teach him portraiture when he grew older, as his protege. Though unquestionably an opportunity, Tony's parents were disinclined to pursue it.
Other Summers were spent in various places with the family, Bay Head and Beach Haven on the Jersey shore, Milton on the Hudson with good friends, the artist James Scott anA his talented Danish wife Kirsten; with maternal relatives in Canaan, New Hampshire as well as visits at the Summer places of one or two school friends.
In 1933 the three boys and their parents were invited by their father's brother Bertie and their Aunt Maya to spend the month of July in a cottage beside theirs at Squawm Lake, New Hampshire; and in these delightful surroundings they got to know their cousins John, Eleanor, Molly and David Poole, fresh from years spent in Japan, China and one in Switzerland, their father "Uncle Bertie" having retired from the Standard Oil Co. of N.Y. in 1933, to settle in Milton, Massachusetts, after 22 years with them in the Far East.
Tony had always been of an artistic temperament and besides drawing and painting with unusual ability was naturally musical and by the time he was twelve or thirteen played the piano with an appealing touch and sensitivity. Unfortunately, the 1929 stock market crash interrupted his piano lessons and they were never renewed, but he continued to play for his own pleasure. In 1932, on graduating from Lance School, Tony went into the Summit High School for its Junior and Senior years, and while there took up the flute and amongst his own chums organised an enthusiastic small orchestra alternating himself between the piano and flute. At the outset it was earsplitting and hilarious but they ended up by being quite popular. Tony did continue studying art, for a while under Blanche Greer in Summit and then under the famous Bridgman in New York, all through the Summer of 1935. Even more instructive, and definitely more exciting, were the two Summer months that he spent in l934 at the Art College of Eliot 0'Hara, a famous Washington artist, at Goose Rocks Beach, Maine. In exchange for assisting O'Hara with a variety of Camp duties, Tony received two complete courses in water- color painting, an experience which strongly influenced and developed his own naturally bold style. Not the least entertaining feature of his Summer was that he was quartered in and had charge of a separate student building that housed eight girls between 16 and 20, that went by the name of "The O'Harem". Tony painted some striking pictures up there which we still treasure; and even sold one which he entitled "Payne's Grey's Elegy".
In September 1934 Tony entered Haverford College, a Quaker institution though not exclusively so, in a beautiful settlement outside Philadelphia. Though a small college of about 400 students, it ranks high scholastically; and as the entire student body live on the Campus and there are no fraternities, friendships are widespread. Tony's most endearing characteristic had always been a cheery bonhommie and he soon made many friends at Haverford. In his first two years he concentrated on literature and creative writing which at one time he thought of making his career having a flair in that direction; in fact, several of his creditable articles and stories appeared in the "Haverfordian". In this ambition he was encouraged by McGregor Jenkins (retired associate editor with Ellery Sedgwick of the Atlantic Monthly) whom he and his parents had met at Williamstown and who, on reading his stories, gave Tony some useful hints and letters of introduction to several editors in New York. Tony came to feel, however, that he needed travel and more mature experience as a springboard for a literary career and turned his attention in college to studies that would be more helpful in a commercial career. His grandfather Campbell having in former years been the Agent of the Grace Lines in Japan, old friendships made it easy to secure an invitation for Tony to take a Summer job as assistant purser or supercargo on one of the Grace Liners running from New York through the Caribbean and down the West Coast of South America to Valparaiso, Chile; and in June, 1937, he sailed away in high spirits on a round voyage in the liner "Santa Barbara", his first
glimpse of foreign countries since he came from Japan at the age of eight. With liberty to go ashore at every port, he enjoyed the novelty of Spanish-American cities and the colorful Indian people and came home full of his adventures, which proved to be a prelude to his subsequent career.
The following year, 1938, he and a college chum took on a very different sort of Summer job as joint desk Clerks at the Pasquanay Inn on Newfound Lake, New Hampshire, the new owner of which, a retired naval officer, left everything practically to them. Their experiences were hilarious and lost nothing in the telling.
Graduating from Haverford with a B.A. degree, Tony joined W.R.Grace & Co., the largest American firm throughout South America, and started work in their New York head office in March 1939. A few months later, he switched over to their Steamship side and made two more initiatory voyages to South America, one as assistant freight clerk and the other as assistant purser. In January, 1940, he was taken into Grace's Cristobal office in the Canal Zone, the manager of which, Elbert Brown, had in years earlier been assistant to Tony's grandfather Campbell in Yokohama, when the Pacific Mail was operating Grace Line ships. An odd cycle. Within the office, he soon made friends with Frank Sheldon, in charge of Panagra (Pan-American-Grace Airways) who impressed Tony with the greater opportunities in the Air service and with kindly interest coached him at every opportunity. The upshot was that when Sheldon, in May, was needed in Bolivia in an emergency and there was no one handy to take his place, he recommended Tony for the Job and El Brown, on checking his competence, promptly secured headquarters' assent. A year later, in 1941, Sheldon was transferred again and Tony was appointed to take charge of the Panagra Agency in La Paz, Bolivia, 12,000 ft up in the Andes. This Agency also operated the German Lufthansa subsidiary, "Lloyd Aero" taken over by the Bolivian Government in the course of World War II. While in La Paz, Tony shared a bachelor mess with two young fellow-Americans and a jovial, rotund Englishman, Cecil Gee of the I.T.& T., ten years older than himself, who later on visited the States and became a family friend.
Tony spent three interesting years in Bolivia and travelled all over the country visiting remote sub-agencies and yet remoter areas where none yet existed, being one moment at 12,000 ft. altitude and the next in the blistering heat of the Oriente at jungle level, his scratch meals consisting often of native charque (dried meal) or of a tin of sardines from his bag. Tony had a great zest for the unusual and his graphic letters home about the simmering country, remote Spanish missions and isolated missionaries working among wild Indian tribes, were absorbing. They said little, however, about the strain on his health, which was insidious.
Tony was blessed with an engaging personality, being tall, fair and good looking, and combining with level-headed ability a blithe spirit which made him popular with everyone and caused faces to light up when he entered a room. He was particularly well liked by Spaniards and South Americans and not only got on well with them socially, as he spoke fluent Spanish, but in business too. At times, however, after the United States entered the war, he was disturbed at being so far away in South America; but was urgently requested by the Embassy to carry on where he was, the efficient operation of the air line, frequently engaged in transporting strategic material, being vital.
Towards the end of 1943, he met in La Paz an American au girl of quiet charm newly attached to the U.S. Embassy - Luba Gustus, slim, dark- haired, with an appealingly delicate dignity and a month later, on December l9/l943 they were married by a Spanish civil ceremony in the beautiful garden of good friends in the Foreign Service, Oliver and Sally Marcy, surrounded by a group of their well-wishers. Luba was of Russian parents, born March 30, 1916, at Khabasovsk, Siberia, daughter of Sergei and Marya (Gromovskaya) Arlyustin. Her father, a White Russian, died in the confused fighting of the Bolshevik Revolution when Luba was a baby; and her mother then married a soldier of the American Army in Siberia, Arthur Gustus, whose name Luba took. Soon afterwards, they accompanied him to Manila when his regiment was transferred there, and again a year later to San Francisco, where Luba grew up as an American girl from the time she was three. Tony, as a romanticist, delighted in Luba's exotic background; and it was curious that they should have been born within a year of each other on opposite sides of the Sea of Japan.
Immediately after their marriage, Tony, elated to be transferred to Valparaiso and looking forward to the pleasant climatic change, was suddenly diverted, - in another Company emergency, to the steamy equatorial port of Guayaquil, Ecuador, where besides Panagra, he also controlled the German Airways taken over by the Ecuadorian Government. In the quick transfer there was no time to renew inoculations; and six weeks later, while on an up-country mission, he contracted typhoid fever; and in spite of being flown to Lima in a special Panagra plane and placed in the Anglo-American Hospital where everything possible was done, he died on April 18/1944. He is buried in the English Cemetery at Lima, with the poignant lines from Rupert Brooke on his tombstone: - "Day that I have loved, I close your eyes."
For poor Luba, who had been at his side throughout has death only four months after their wedding was a cruel tragedy; and for his parents and brothers, a lasting sorrow. Every one loved him and his high spirit was so contagious that one of his classmates wrote: - "All of us who went through Haverford with Tony came out with something of him in our makeup."
Luba returned, broken hearted, to America, flying directly to her mother in San Francisco then coming on to stay awhile with Tony's parents in Summit, who loved her at once. Having been, before her marriage, a career secretary in the Foreign Service, she was quickly reinstated and, at her own request, sent to the other side of the world, - to Ankara, Turkey. There, by strange fate, she met a young Englishman startlingly like Tony, Clive Parry, - who, as Tony had done, fell in love with her at sight. A year later they were married in Ankara on May 2O/1945. Clive, a graduate of Cambridge University, (later Dean of Downing College and an L.L.D.) spoke five languages, including Turkish, had served with the British Council in the Far East, and at the time he met Luba was teaching Law in the University of Ankara. He has since been one of the Legal Advisers to the British Delegation at United Nations and has also lectured at Harvard and several other American Colleges, on leave from Cambridge University. Though their home has been in Cambridge since their marriage these other engagements have meant lengthy stays in America during which they have invariably visited Tony's parents, both in Summit and in Virginia, Clive having become as much one of the family as Luba, holding Tony's memory in chivalrous affection; and a close bond exists between him and Tony's brothers.
They have two children, Katherine born at Cambridge, England March 15/1946, and Anthony, born in New York City January 18/1949, - named after Tony and to whom Dick is godfather. Both children are being educated in England, Tony now at Rugby. They each have a warm place in the hearts of Tony's parents and when Tony was five he stayed over a month with them in "Missing Acres" Virginia, while Luba, Clive and Katherine visited Mrs Gustus in San Francisco. His governess, Marjorie Bird, was also with him and it was the last time the family have been all together with the "Old Folks".
Initial Issue Date: 11 July 2000
15/6/2001: resaved HTML from Word
A transcription of work by OM Poole
Richard Armstrong Poole, second son of Otis Manchester Poole
and Dorothy Campbell Poole, was born April 29, 1919, at No.68 Bluff, Yokohama,
Japan. A terrible conflagration that swept through the Japanese part of
Yokohama from the Park to the Nogeyama Hills, at the time.
Dick's first three years were passed at No.68 Bluff, Then, in February, l922, he and his brothers Tony and David, with an English nanny embarked with their parents on a six week voyage to England via Hongkong, Singapore, Colombo, the Suez Canal and Marseilles a journey that opened their eyes to the world and left many memories of tropical countries and gaily clad people. He never forgot the wild monkeys in the Botanical Gardens at Singapore, leaping from tree top to tree top like a flock of birds.
Soon after arriving in London in April, the family moved down to a small farm they had rented at Brook in the New Forest, where in ideal surroundings they spent the Spring and Summer, trans-ferring in September to Lustleigh on the Devonshire Moors. Then, as Winter approached, they returned to London. The open air life had been wonderful for the boys and they were the picture of health. On various occasions, the boys for the first time met their English relatives; - their Uncle Archie Campbell, then entering the Church; their great-aunt Haddie, Lady Jephson, born Harriet Campbell, as well as their other great-aunts, Lillian Rice Gillett and Mabel Rice Fraser and the former's daughter Evelyn Gillett. Also, home on leave from Shanghai their father's sister Eleanor Maitland and her husband George, their four sons Francis, Jack, Otis and Don, all at school. Twenty nine years were to elapse before Dick set foot in England again or, with few exceptions, saw any of his English kin once more.
Dick's father having already started back to Japan via America soon after Christmas, his mother followed in March with the three boys and a Danish governess taking the Suez route. Crossing the Bay of Biscay in a terrible storm, a German freighter sank beside them, their ship participating in the saving of her crew.
Arriving back in Japan in April, 1923, they had a tranquil Summer at 68 Bluff; but at noon on September 1st came the Great Earthquake and holocaust which destroyed Yokohama and most of Tokyo. Miraculously the boys escaped unhurt and behaved like little soldiers throughout the succession of terrifying episodes. The full tale of the earthquake is contained in their father's narrative, but one incident reflecting the boys' awareness of peril and instant obedience to orders bears telling. Seeking to escape oncoming flames, their father had already made two trips down the cliff from the British Naval Hospital to the beach, and was half way back up the cliff to fetch Dick when ~en panic started above and people began crowding the rope that reached down half way so densely that there was little chance of swarming up against them. At that moment Dick's grandfather appeared sliding down the rope with his one good arm while holding Dick precariously with the other. Where the rope ended, there was a narrow ledge running horizontally across the cliff-face to a landslide where a section of cliff had fallen away to the beach; and ten feet from the end of the rope this ledge had already began to break away leaving a growing gap five feet across and a straight drop of sixty feet to the beach below. Dick's father saw that the Commodore could never get Dick safely across that gap with his one good arm, (the other had been temporarily poisoned by red jellyfish stings) nor could he himself get over against the crush; so, shouting to the Commodore to set Dick down on the ledge, he dug his heels into a foothold on the hither side of the gap and called "Dick! Jump into my arms!" Without a second's hesitation, Dick came through the air like a star-fish, landing on his father's chest with the grip of a young octopus. Moments later they were all safely on the landslide and scrambled down to the others on the beach.
As has been narrated elsewhere, the family found refuge that night aboard the Commodore's yacht "Daimyo" and, with hundreds of other foreign refugees, were evacuated by ship to Kobe, the three boys and their mother, with their faithful amah Mine, continuing on to Shanghai, where they lived for three months with their Aunt Eleanor and Uncle George Maitland and their cousin Donald who was a year older then Dick and very companionable. In that comfortable atmosphere the nightmare of the earthquake was soon forgotten and in December they returned to Japan to join their father in Kobe, now become the Company's headquarters. There, for the next eighteen months, they resided in the Manager's residence at San-bon-matsu, (The three Pines) on Kitano-cho, the highest of the steeply terraced roads flanking the Kobe hills. Their other amah, Kane, came down from Yokohama to rejoin them and their grandparents, the Campbells, shared the commodious house for a while. Delightful hill-paths made Sunday walking a pleasure. The three summer months of 1924 were spent on top of Rokkosan in a semi-Japanese cottage beside the golf course 2,500 ft. above the Inland Sea, where their father could join them every weekend. There were only three ways of getting up the steep hills to Rokkosan: on foot, astride sure-footed pack-horses, or to be carried up in a "kago", the ancient Japanese palanquin or basket-chair suspended from a pole carried by a team of three men. Women and children always went up by "kago", an experience the three boys always enjoyed.
In May, 1925, just as the family was preparing for another Summer on Rokkosan, Kobe experienced its first startling earthquake, not only alarming to its inhabitants but unnerving to those who had gone through the Yokohama disaster. The boys mother, who had raced back from the lower town to her children, was overcome on finding them safely playing in a neighboring garden. Sympathetically, the Company's chairman in London suggested that the family should take an early holiday away from Japan. Accordingly, on July 7th, 1925 they all sailed on the "Empress of Asia" for Victoria, B.C. where they settled down for four months in a pleasant house on Transit Rd. in Oak Bay. As things turned out, this was the end of the family's life in the Far East, though Dick did go back to Japan twenty years later as a member of America's occupation forces and remained 4 years.
Towards the end of their vacation, the boys father was asked to take temporary charge of the Company's New York office and, leaving the family in Victoria, went to New York in November. six months later, his appointment having become permanent, he returned to Victoria in June, 1926, and brought the family back with him to Summit, New Jersey, which became the family home for the next twenty-three years.
Beginning with a year in Miss Hood's School in Summit, Dick and David followed their brother Tony into the Lance School for boys, also in Summit. Seven years later, Dick transferred as Tony had done before him, to the Summit High School for its Junior and Senior years, taking the courses which would further his desire to enter the State Department Foreign Service. Meanwhile, of course, he had made many friends especially Gilmer Twombly with who he spent several Summers at his parents' place on Twin Lakes, New Hampshire. He also had one Summer at Lancewood Camp and shared another with his Poole cousins on Squam Lake, and still another with a chum in the Catskills. In fact, all their Summers were diversified and enjoyable.
Again following in his brother's footsteps, Dick in 1936 entered Haverford College where Tony was then a Junior. When the latter graduated two years later, Dick's younger brother David entered as a freshman. Thus from 1936 to 1940 there were always two Poole brothers in Haverford. Dick majored in Government and, as an excellent student, won two helpful scholarships, graduating in 1940 with high honors. More conspicuously, though he had entered college a rather slim lad he emerged with a powerful build, having doggedly gone in for wrestling to achieve it. In 1936, just before entering college, Dick, like Tony, had a full summers tuition in water color painting under Eliot O'Hara while assisting as handy-man in the Camp at Goose Rocks Beach. Not long after, the whole reach of Goose Rocks Beach was destroyed in a forest fire. In the following Summers, Dick worked as a counsellor at "Mowglis" and Agawam" Camps in New England, greatly enjoying the open air life.
While still in Haverford, Dick, on his own initiative, visited the State Department in Washington to verify that the courses he was taking were the most appropriate; and received from Mr.Howland Shaw the most kindly assistance and advice. On leaving Haverford in June, 1940, he entered the Turner Diplomatic School in Washington, and successfully passed the written and oral examinations for the Foreign Service in September and January, being commissioned a Foreign Service Officer of Career on March 20/1941. In the meantime, he much appreciated an invitation from his Aunt Maya and Uncle Bert to spend several weeks with them in Palm Beach, where he had a delightful time swimming and going about with his pretty cousin Eleanor, precisely his own age.
Dick's first post was Montreal, where he served as Vice Consul from April '41 to November'42, living in a cheerful bachelor mess with two others. He enjoyed Winter skiing in the Laurentians and also singing in the "Elgar Choir" under Sir Thomas Beecham. In the summer of 1941, his parents visited him in Montreal while on their tour of Quebec and the Gaspe Peninsula.
Dick was next posted to Spain, and after an interim assignment in the Department of State, Washington, he sailed by freighter for Lisbon en route to Barcelona where he served as Vice Consul from March '43 to November '44. World War II was at its height, and France was occupied by Germany, and Dick had a hand in the under-cover evacuation of Allied aviators brought down in enemy territory and spirited South through the Pyrenees.
It was while Dick was in Barcelona that he received word of the death of his elder brother Tony in Peru on April 18/1944, a sad blow as the brothers had always been very close.
When, in 1944, the State Department modified its prohibition against Foreign Service Officers joining the Armed Forces Dick crossed to Casablanca, Morocco to apply for a commission the U.S.Navy; and in November '44 was sworn in as an Ensign by the Naval Attaché in Madrid. He was immediately flown to the United States by army plane, via Africa and South America for training in Combat Military Government, first at Princeton N.J. and then at Monterey and San Francisco. As he learned later; his group was being prepared for the invasion of Japan When, however, Japan surrendered he was dispatched to Yokohama by Naval Transport in October, 1945, to serve in General Headquarters of the Supreme Commander for the Allied Forces, General Douglas MacArthur, in Tokyo, where he was promoted to Lieutenant, J.G. His duties in the next ten months were mainly in the sphere of Military Government, but one active assignment proved unusually interesting, - the inspection, with three other officers of the little known Hachijo Islands, a chain of a dozen small islands strung Southwards for 350 miles into the Pacific, from Vries Island (Oshima) below Tokyo Bay, to Lot's Wife (Sofu-gan). On some of these remote and rugged islands are still found the descendants of mariners shipwrecked several centuries ago. It was a unique and stormy experience.
In August, 1946, Dick was released from active duty with Navy and reverted, on the spot, to the Foreign Service, joining staff of the U.S. Political Adviser to S.C.A.P., where he served the ensuing two years. During his three years in Japan, Dick made a few warm friends among the old-time aristocratic Japanese whom he met, spending several weekends with one family who had a Summer home on Schichi-ri-no-hama, (Seven league beach) near Enoshina. He also took every opportunity of making trips into the country, climbing Fujiyama as his father had done fifty years earlier, visiting the chain of lakes around its base and staying in the inn at Shojk Lake where his parents had vacationed in the Summer of 1918 before he was born. A cheery group of young Americans in Tokyo made life very pleasant and he never lacked companions on these expeditions. He also visited Yokohama to see what he could find of old landmarks and the spot where he was born. The Japanese city of Yokohama had been fully reconstructed after the l923 earthquake, but the Foreign Settlement only partially. What had been the Bund, (the water-front boulevard) no longer fringed the water. The debris of the Settlement had been used to fill in the shallow water for a hundred yards out into the harbor, creating a strip of parkland the full length of the Bund. The road-plan had been slightly changed and it was difficult to get ones bearings as all buildings were new. On the Bluff the roads were unchanged but every house was strangely unfamiliar. Even their numbering had been changed, a much needed reform. However, he found the corner lot where No.68 had stood, finding its six-foot iron, still standing; but the house and these on either side were completely modern and nothing remained to revive old memories. No 89, the original Poole home for 30 years, had given place to three small bungalows of American design. And so it went, all along the Bluff. In World War II, just ended, the Japanese part of Yokohama had been again wiped out in bombing raids which also ravaged the foreign settlement but not so badly; and even the Bluff had suffered here and there. All in all, very saddening. Dick also visited Kobe. The entire city, including the foreign "Concession", had been relentlessly bombed out in the war, nothing remaining but a sea of ashes in which skeletons of brick buildings stood up here and there like tombstones. Only the uppermost terraces of the foreign residential section had escaped and he found the old Dodwell Manager's residence above San-bon-matsu still standing, but shockingly dilapidated, serving as a home for derelict Japanese seamen, and rapidly crumbling. Of the three tall pines that towered above the shrine across the road, only three ugly stumps remained. Storms and old age had brought them down.
In December, 1948, Dick returned home on leave, by plane via Alaska, arriving just in time for Christmas with the family at 8 De Bary Place, Summit, laden with Oriental gifts for everyone. David, too, came up on furlough from N.E.P.A. at Oakridge, Tenn., and on Christmas eve they were joined by Tony's erstwhile widow Luba, her husband Clive Parry, and their daughter Katherine, 3 years old, who had arrived the day before from England. This was the first meeting with Clive who became one of the family from that time on. A son was born to Luba and Clive a month later, whom they named Anthony after Tony, and Dick is his Godfather. During the course of his few months of leave, Dick spent some time in Washington being briefed for his next post in South East Asia; and also slipped down to Charlottesville, Virginia, to glimpse "Missing Acres", a 75-acre estate beside the Blue Ridge to which his parents were about to retire and where they have lived ever since.
In May '49, Dick was sent as Vice Consul to Singapore and a month later was trvidereed to Kuala Lumpur, where he shared the residential quarters above the Consulate with the bachelor Consul William Blue. Not long after, the latter had suddenly to return home and Dick was appointed Acting Consul and presently full Consul. It was the time of guerrilla warfare in Malaya and Dick's contacts with both Malayan and British Officials were most interesting. One evening the U.S. Consulate was under rifle fire for a short time but no one was injured. Some time later, Sir Hugh Gurney, the High Commissioner was slain in a guerrilla ambush. During his two years in Kuala Lumpur, Dick took up polo, playing with the British and Indian Army Officers and owning a good pony. He made several warm Malayan friends, particularly Dato Nik Kamil who was later to become Malayan Ambassador to Washington and visited with Dick at "Missing Acres". At the end of Dick's two-year tour of duty in Kuala Lumpur he visited Thailand and Cambodia, and at some risk, in view of guerrilla activity, penetrated alone in a borrowed jeep to the ancient temples of Angkor Wat.
In May, 1951, he was assigned to the Embassy at Jakarta, where the Indonesia had just taken over from the Dutch and considerable confusion prevailed, politically and commercially. In this post he stayed hardly two months, his home leave having been unexpectedly advanced. On his homeward flight he visited friends in Belgium briefly, then crossed over to England where he enjoyed meeting again in West Byfleet, Surrey, his Aunt Eleanor, who had been widowed in February that year, - and his cousins Jack, Otis and Donald, as well as some other friends in and about London.
After short leave with the family at Missing Acres, Dick was appointed in September '51 to the Bureau of Far Eastern Affairs in the State Department, Washington, where he remained until December, 1954. During this period, he lived in his own bachelor apartment in Georgetown, enjoying the amenities of life in America after so many years abroad. He made many friends whom he used to bring down to Missing Acres for long weekends, frequently mixed foursomes whom he ruthlessly induced to golf, swim, ride, walk and even climb in the hills. One of these charming creatures he subsequently married, but that was as yet unsuspected, even by themselves.
While abroad, Dick had frequently realised that he was familiar only with the Eastern fringe of the United States. During this period in Washington therefore, he spent a vacation of several weeks driving across the continent to the Pacific North West, down the Coast to California and back by the Southern route. He visited many scenically famous spots, had many entertaining adventures, dropped in on his cousin Molly Poole, now married to his school-fellow George Lenci in Roseburg, Oregon, and visited Luba's parents in San Francisco as well as looking up other friends all along the way. In all, a most pleasant and illuminating journey.
In December, 1954, Dick was assigned to the American Embassy in Bogota, Columbia, as Chief of the Political Section, where his Spanish proved invaluable and his fluent French of service too. The extreme altitude of Bogota, 9,000 ft. did not incommode him and he enjoyed settling into a new semi-detached house and creating his first garden out of a terrace scooped from the hillside at second story level. A good maid enabled him to entertain less haphazardly than he had in Washington; and a golden Labrador puppy completed his household. Dick soon made many good friends among the Colombian families and was invited on hunting expeditions to the immense ranches they owned and on one occasion a fishing expedition by plane to the Bay of Utria on the wild Coast. There he was induced to leave the party and accompany a group of young colonists who were pioneering up a small coastal river, penetrating with them on foot to their jungle camp amongst most primitive Indians, whence, after relaxing overnight, he returned to the coast alone with a friendly native family in their dug-out canoe. A uniquely interesting experience of which he brought back some striking color photo-graphs. In August, 1957, Dick returned home via Nassau in the Bahamas, on three months leave, being slated to go hack to Bogota early in November for another two years. Some of this leave he spent in Washington, and when his departure loomed a scant two weeks away, he telephoned his parents the tumultuous news that he and Jillian were going to get married. This was the attractive girl he had brought down with a foursome to Missing Acres in July, 1954 and with whom he had kept in touch ever since. Though English born she had been brought to Washington by her mother when thirteen years old and educated in American schools and Washington University, becoming an American citizen in 1954. That weekend Dick brought her down to Missing Acres to renew acquaintance with his parents whose affection she instantly won. Bright intelligent and pretty, she was at 27 the ideal girl for Dick who had reached 38 without yet becoming a confirmed bachelor. They made an engaging couple, - he just under 6 ft. tall, broad shouldered and fair, with clean-cut features and a cheery, outgiving nature, yet thoroughly capable; - she slimly fascinating, warm-hearted and frank. It did one good to see them together.
Jillian's mother being in Paris and her father in South Africa, she and Dick welcomed the idea of being married from Missing Acres. A hectic week later, on November 2/1957, after a wedding breakfast at Farmington Country Club, they were married in a simple ceremony at St.Paul's Episcopal Church, Ivy, the Reverend Dudley Boogher officiating. An informal and jolly reception followed at Missing Acres in perfect Indian Summer weather. Jillian's elder sister, Diana King, came down from Washington for the weekend, as did Dick's brother David and wife Sally from Rye, N.Y.; and among the hundred guests from far and near were his father's cousins John and Mildred Armstrong, with daughter Elizabeth and John's sister Susannah with her husband Laurence Coleman Four days after the wedding, Dick was off to Colombia, Jillian rejoining him a month later for a brief honeymoon in the Caribbean. She was delighted with his house and garden in Bogota; and since she already spoke French fluently soon learned Spanish. Besides the inevitable social round, Jillian busied herself with volunteer work in connection with the children's hospital. For recreation, Dick and Jillian (an accomplished horsewoman since childhood) regularly went riding on the plateau above the town, accompanied by their devoted Labrador "Moby". Towards the end of their two-year stay, they made an official visit to Lima, Peru, taking in the famous ruins of Machu Picchu on the way. While in Lima, they visited the grave of Dick's brother Tony, who had so sadly died there in 1944.
In July, 1959, Dick's tour of duty having ended he and Jillian, bringing "Moby" with them took passage for New York in a passenger liner that touched at Fort Lauderdale, Florida, giving them just time to dash up to Palm Beach for breakfast with his uncle Bert, his daughter Eleanor and four grandchildren. It was a happy and memorable occasion as his Uncle Bert died 3 years later, on June 11/1962. From New York they came straight to Missing Acres and shortly afterwards proceeded to Washington where Dick was to assume his new post of Officer in Charge of Peruvian Affairs in the Bureau of International Affairs. As this meant residing in Washington for four years before the State Department again sent him abroad, he and Jillian bought a charming low rambler in the woods just across the Patomac, - 3947 Mackall Ave., Langley Forest, McLean, Virginia, - which is their present home. When comfortably established, Jillian took a congenial position as Executive Secretary of the National Cathedral Association which she enjoys and still holds. With her mother, and two charming step-daughters, back in Washington and her sister Diana close by, Washington feels like home.
On February 6/1961, during a blizzard, a welcome little son was born to Dick and Jillian in Washington, and on June 3rd christened Anthony Hanbury in the National Cathedral, Dean Sayre and Canon Arterton officiating. He is a fine, sturdy little boy, fair like his mother and father, and already full of character.
The children of Richard and Jillian Poole are: -
1. Anthony Hanbury Poole, born February 6/1961, in Washington, D.C. and christened June 3/1961 in the National Cathedral, by Dean Sayre.
2. Colin Rawnsley Poole, born January 14/1964, in Washington, D.C. and christened April 18/1964 in the National Cathedral, by Dean Sayre.
McLean, VA—Richard A. Poole, one of the last surviving members of the team of Americans tasked with writing a new Constitution for Japan after World War II, died Sunday (26/2/2006) at his home in McLean of natural causes. He was 86.
As a 26-year-old U.S. Navy Ensign, he was selected by General Douglas MacArthur’s staff to chair the committee that would define the role the Emperor would play in a Post-war Japan. Poole is often credited with having coined a new Japanese word to represent the concept that the Emperor is a symbol of the State, not a deity as many believed. It was felt the Emperor should be viewed in much the same way that the King or Queen of England is a Constitutional Monarch or symbol of Great Britain. More than a half-century later, Poole and his wife Jillian, were invited to return to Japan to participate in a celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the adoption of the new constitution and for a national discussion on whether the Constitution should be revised or updated to accommodate the many major changes taking place in International relations.
Poole was asked to testify before a special Parliamentary Committee on the Constitution, that was considering such changes. He felt some revision was necessary.
“In the light of today’s reality and the need for Japan to assume responsibilities in foreign affairs on much the same basis as other leading democracies, it strikes me that the current ambiguity with regard to re-arming the nation should be removed,” he said.
Born on April 29, 1919 in Yokohama, Japan, Poole and his family survived the great earthquake of 1923 and subsequently moved to Summit, New Jersey where he spent the majority of his youth. Poole graduated from Haverford College in 1940 and then entered the U.S. Foreign Service as an American Foreign Service Officer. A 39-year career followed – with time out for service with the U.S. Navy during World War II. In 1970 he received the Department of State Superior Honor Award for his contribution to the U.S. Mission to the Organization of American States. He retired in 1979 after serving on five Continents and in many countries, including Canada, Columbia, Honduras, Indonesia, Japan, Malaysia, Singapore, Spain, and Upper Volta (now Burkina Faso).
Poole was a member of the McLean Citizen’s Association for over 40 years, serving on the Board of Directors for many years. The majority of his time was devoted to being the Chairman of the McLean Trees Committee, where he coordinated the planting of thousands of trees and bushes in the McLean area. He was known locally as “Mr. Trees” and was instrumental in organizing the newspaper collection containers at Cooper Intermediate School in McLean, the primary source of revenue for the Trees Committee. In the past few years he worked to create the McLean Trees Foundation, a not-for-profit organization, out of the original Trees Committee. In addition to the Trees Committee he was active with the McLean Planning Committee. Poole was named Citizen of the Year by the McLean Citizens’ Association in 1993.
He is survived by his brother David A. Poole, his wife, Jillian H. Poole, their two sons, Anthony (Tony) H. Poole (married to Elizabeth) & Colin R. Poole and two granddaughters Alison C. Poole and Natalie Q. Poole.
Place of birth – Yokohama, Japan – April 29, 1919
The Army Commendation Ribbon for meritorious service and superior performance – United States Army Forces, Pacific – 1946
Honorable Discharge – U.S. Navy – 1946
Superior Honor Award – Department of State – 1970
Service recognition and appreciation – Department of State – 1951, 1966, 1971, 1976
Citizen of the Year – McLean Citizen’s Association – 1993
Senior Citizens Service Award – Rotary Club of McLean – 1994
Bull Dog Award – McLean Citizen’s Association – 1997
Friends of Trees Award – Fairfax County Tree Commission – 1998
1/3/2006: Death notice.
Issue Date: 11/2/2007
A transcription of work by OM Poole (abt 1965):
David Manchester Poole,
third son of Otis Manchester Poole and Dorothy Campbell Poole, was born July 4/1920 at No.68 Bluff, Yokohama, Japan. That his British-born mother should have chosen the Fourth of July to present a third son to her American husband, who that year was President of the American Association, was hailed as a pretty demonstration of loyalty; and later in the day, when his father had to the Fourth of July Cup to the to the winning golfer on the Nagishi Course, his irreverent fellow members so riddled his speech with quips and jests that it had to be unceremoniously abandoned in favor of drinks to "The Little Firecracker".
Like his elder brothers Tony and Dick, David's earliest days were spent at 68 Bluff, where his constant playmate and protector was a shaggy native dog "Luck" who, as a puppy, had been rescued from some village children trying to drown him a stream near Dzushi, and who, in gratitude, grew into a magnificent creature with a glossy black and brown coat.
In February, 1922, when David was a year and a half old, the entire family went on leave to England. He was too young to remember the long sea voyage by way of Shanghai, Hongkong, Singapore, Ceylon, Suez and Marseille, though he did distinguish himself in a Marseille hotel by insisting on eating without assistance a large plate of spaghetti, sucking it into his mouth like an endless rope until all the other diners were convulsed with laughter. The year in England, spent in the New Forest, Devonshire and Kensington Gardens, London, sent him back to Japan - again by sea via Suez - in red-cheeked health; and by April l921, they were all again established in 68 Bluff, with a Danish governess as well as their amahs to supervise them.
Then at noon on September 1/1923 came the great earthquake and fire that destroyed both Yokohama and Tokyo. No.68 Bluff only just remained standing, being badly shattered, and the chimney in the nursery crashed down through the floor where the boys had been playing only a moment before they rushed to their mother's arms in the doorway, where they clung together till the tumult subsided. How they all miraculously escaped unharmed and were evacuated by steamer to Shanghai has already been told. In Shanghai they lived three months with their Aunt Eleanor and Uncle George Maitland, whose fourth son Donald was their own age.
In these tranquil surroundings and under the kindly guardianship of Emily, the family nurse, they gradually shook off the terrors of the quake until one day Uncle George, teetering in his chair at lunch, went over backwards, made a wild grab at the table and, catching only the cloth, pulled over on top of himself the entire spread of crockery, glasses and viands in a crashing cascade. Everyone screamed and the three boys, thinking it was another earthquake, were completely unnerved. In fact it was several years before David ceased to have occasional nightmare about the quake.
Returning to Japan in December, they rejoined their father in the other main seaport, Kobe, living just above a famous shrine "San-bon-matsu" (The three Pines) for nearly two years, spending the summer on top of the Rokkosan hills and also enjoying sailing with their breezy grandfather in his graceful yacht "Daimyo" which David learned to steer before he was five years old. This started his love for sailing which is today his keenest hobby. He was always chubby and sturdy and easily kept up with his brothers on frequent Sunday walks in the hills behind Kobe, carrying his own ruck-sack.
As already appears in these chronicles the family left Japan July 7/1925, in the "Empress of Asia", on four months recuperative leave in Victoria B.C., and as things turned out, never went back. Instead their father was transferred to New York, they and their mother remaining a year in Oak Bay Victoria, then joining him and living for many years in Summit, New Jersey. There Dick and David then 7 and 6 went first to Miss Hood's School, presently following Tony into the Lance School for boys. David was always the most matter of fact of the three, with a love for things mechanical, a bent that ultimately determined his career. When only five, Dick admonished him at breakfast - "David if you don't eat up your porridge, soon you'll be nothing" "That's all right" he retorted, unperturbed, "Then I'll be enormous because nothing goes on and on and on." It was, perhaps, a natural progression from this early concept of space to his eventually becoming a nuclear engineer. In fact, while in college his inventive interest in the feasibility of interstellar communication prompted a group of his fellow students to ask him to give them a talk on his favorite subject. To his astonishment instead of a handful of friends, there was quite a large turnout, including several of the family.
Though all three boys ended up quarter of an inch short of 6 ft. tall, as youngsters they were much smaller than most of their schoolmates and consequently less formidable in games. When David was about ten, a venerable neighbour enquired how he had fared in the School Sports that day. "Not so specially well" he admitted, "except in the 100 yard dash where I came in second from last." Twelve years later, in his last term at college he lowered Haverford's long-standing record for the mile by 8 seconds to 4.26 1/2, and the 2-mile record by 9 seconds to 10.02. In the mile event, he and his chum Walt Falconer had already, a week earlier, knocked several seconds off the record in a premeditated tie, but the Committee, scratching their heads, said they couldn't possibly award the record to them both and gave it Falconer. This so infuriated Walt that the next week they went out and broke it again, this time holding hands at the tape so that there should be question about a tie. However, the judges, placed in the same dilemma, awarded the new record to David who protested so vigorously that in the end the Committee gave in and both names were bracketed on the tablet of fame. Both Walt and David ran in the A.A.A.A. meet at Randall's Island, New York that June (1942) but were outstripped by Leslie McMitchell in 4.12. In those days, of course, the 4 minute mile was still considered impossible, and I think the record was 4.07.
David' s boyhood was studded with Summer vacations at the seashore, at Lancewood Camp in the Catskills, on New Hampshire Lakes and with various chums in their Summer cottages, especially a wonderful month with his cousins John, Eleanor, Molly and David A. at Squam Lake. But he missed out on a summer's tuition in water-colors under Eliot O'Hara, though possessed of the same natural flair for painting as his elder brothers. What he liked best was dabbling in things mechanical, and when 16, he and a pal fitted an old motor-cycle engine to a decrepit child's go-kart and produced a rakish contraption they christened "Sylvia". A neighbor jokingly warned them they could'nt run it on the streets without a licence. Sure enough, the first day out a motorcycle cop pulled up beside them with the enquiry "What's that you've got there?" Meekly the boys explained. "What'll it do?" asked the cop. About 15 to 18 miles per hour, we hope" answered David. The cop was all boy again. "Hop on!" he directed "and I'll give you a lead round the block; let's see what we can get out of her." Five minutes later "Eighteen is right", he grinned, "Watch your corners." and left them breathless.
On leaving Lance School, David like his brothers, entered Summit High for its final years; and in 1938, went on to Haverford College 2 years after Dick. There he majored in Engineering, graduating in 1942 with a B.Sc. Like Dick, he won a helpful scholarship and just missed a Phi Beta Kappa. He was elected to the Founders Club and made permanent Vice President of the Class of '42.
The War was then on and during his last year at college David learned to fly under the C.A.A. program, using Piper Cub planes for training. From college, he went directly into Pratt & Whitney Aircraft Co. in East Hartford, Conn. and while there, three of his inventions in gas turbine control systems were patented and adopted by the Company. However, the daily sight of planes zooming past his window proved too much for him and in February 1943, he joined the Army Air Force. Beginning training at the A.A.F.College at Waterville, Maine, he was transferred progressively to Mitchell Field, Tenn, Maxwell Field, Ala., Dorr Field, Fla. Gunter's Field and Craig Field, Alabama, where his parents visited him in May l944, driving down from Summit via the Blue Ridge Skyline Drive to Selma, Alabama close to Craig Field. To his mother's delight, David took her up in an open-cockpit plane while his father, as the family breadwinner, was by regulations firmly held to the ground. David had received his wings earlier that year and was now a Lieutenant hoping to be sent overseas at any moment. Instead, he was picked out to be a fighter-flying instructor and when he tried to extricate himself by taking a special gunnery course, they simply made him a gunnery instructor as well. In October, he was transferred to Florida, then Dale Mabry Field, Tallahassee and Punta Corda Field, Florida. Among his pupils, he had at one time about 20 young French Cadets, and between David's somewhat sketchy French and their enthusiastic reaction to any order, results were at times highly exciting. David never did get overseas and when the war ended was separated at Fort Dix September 30/1945.
Realising the value of a Master's Degree, he then entered Massachusetts Institute of Technology and in 1946 received an M.S.M.E. (Master of Science, Mechanical Engineering) specialising in Aircraft Power Plants. From M.I.T. he stepped directly into a post awaiting him with Fairchild Engine & Aircraft Corp in their N.E.P.A. Division (Nuclear Energy for Propulsion of Aircraft ) operating for the Army Air Force at Oakridge, Tennessee, - the Atomic Center, where he was put in charge of integrated power plant and aircraft design studies. In this hush-hush project he was interestingly occupied for the next five years, together with other young scientists living in bachelor messes of three or four in scores of diminutive white houses looking like chicken-coops but surprisingly comfortable inside. The entire area was surrounded by high wire fencing, heavily guarded; and in many ways it was an extension of military life, though they did possess a home-made golf course and pleasant sailing was to be had on several reservoir lakes nearby. David had his own little boat and made good use of it.
Towards the end of his five years there, David married, in 1950, a delightful Rhode Island girl, Sally Jarret, whom he met on Cape Cod. More about that later, after completing this outline of his business career.
When Fairchild's contract with the Army terminated in 1951 and the continuation was awarded to General Electric, David was offered an excellent position with General Electric; but because it would involve living beside a newly developed plant in Missouri, he preferred to stay with Fairchild and was transferred to their "Stratos" Division at Bay Shore, Long Island, where he was appointed Executive Engineer, with some technical and administrative functions. He and Sally lived at Centerport across the Island on the North Shore, where their two boys, Jeffrey and Christopher, were born. The life was pleasant, with boating and swimming, but after a few years the projects at Stratos became increasingly dull to one with a creative urge and in 1956 David decided to pull out and join a young enterprise, the Nuclear Development Corp. of America, at White Plains, New York, where he was made Project Engineer. Their main activity is designing and building atomic reactors. Through mergers, the Company has expanded and become the United Nuclear Corp, and David a key member of the organisation. He appears in "Who's Who in Engineering" with a complete summary of his career.
Reverting to David and Sally's marriage, they first met in 1949 at a wedding in Providence, Rhode Island at which he was best man to one of his Oakridge messmates, and she a pretty brides-maid, cousin of the bride. Petite fair and sunny-natured, she so appealed to him that in the ensuing months he contrived to see her from time to time till they happily became engaged and were married on June 23/1950 in the Jarret's beautiful home at No.268 Woodland Road, Woonsocket. Sally's father having been a Catholic and her mother an Episcopalian, while David was an Epsiscopalian with Unitarian leanings, they decided to have a simple home wedding conducted by a benign Universalist minister, than which nothing could have been more propitious. David's parents went up from Virginia for the wedding and his Uncle Bert, Aunt Maya and cousins Eleanor and Doris Poole drove down from Boston, while his father's Armstrong cousins, John, Mildred and Susannah came from Long Island. The Jarret's sweeping lawn teemed with Sally's relatives and making a brilliant scene from which the happy couple set off gaily on their honeymoon to Bermuda.
Sally Cooper Jarret was born June 15/1927 at Providence, Rhode Island, and baptized at the Church of Notre Dame des Victoires, the daughter of Hugo Aram Jarret and Isabel Rolfe White. Her father was a successful woollen mill owner of French Canadian descent, whose ancestry is given later on. Her mother was a lineal descendant of John Rolfe of Virginia and Pocahontas, the eldest daughter of each generation bearing the name of Rolfe. Besides Sally, they had a and a daughter Suzanne, both older than Sally and already married, Sue being Mrs Edwin Pratt Arnolt. Sally's childhood was passed in Woonsocket and her summers at Falmouth Heights on Cape Cod where the Jarrets had a Summer home. Naturally, she was completely at home in the water and loved sailing. After early schooling at a Quaker establishment in Providence, she attended Syracuse University followed by two years in Columbia University, New York, during which she lived at the Barbazon Plasa. With her parents, she traveled in Europe, lingering most fondly in Venice. This was about the time she met David.
After their Bermuda honeymoon, David and Sally lived for a year in Oakridge, Tennessee, moving to Centerport, Long Island, in 1951. There they bought their first home at Marahopa Bay, on a headland above Northport Bay, only five minutes walk from the Yacht Club. Soon David had his own yacht in which they dashed about the Bay and sallied out to distant beaches on picnics. Here their two sons were born at nearby Huntington, -
Jeffrey Campbell Poole, born June 11/1952,
Christopher Jarret Poole, born November 11/l954.
Both were later on christened in the Unitarian Church in Northport. From the time they could toddle, they took to the water and are never so happy as when swimming or sailing.
When David joined the N.D.A. at White Plains, they bought a house then building at 5 Alton Terraee, Rye, only half a mile from an inlet of Long Island Sound, and brought over from Centerport their latest cabin-yacht "Sayonara" (named after one of his grand-father's first boats in Yokohama) on which they spend as much time tinkering as sailing. She sleeps four, enabling them to enjoy many 2 or 3 day cruises with old school chums.
In 1956, Sally's father, then 66, retired from business and with her mother went to live in Clearwater, Florida. Though always a sturdy vigorous, genial man, and she equally zestful, illness tragically overtook them and returning to Woonsocket, she died October l2/l958 and he June 6/1959, a great grief to their devoted family.
In 1961, David and Sally sold their Alton Terrace house, buying a larger one at 37 Valley View Ave. on Peningo Neck in Rye where the yacht basin lies just at the end of their road and the excellent Milton School is not four minutes walk away. Here they are very happily established and the boys growing up well.
The Jarrets of Beauregard, Canada.
The Whites of New Jersey.
The following record of the Jarret is a slightly condensed translation from the original French of a history of the Jarret Family compiled in 1924 by Joseph Drouin, a lawyer of Montreal, for Hugo Aram Jarret of Woonsocket, Rhode Island, Sally's father.
The Jarret Family in Canada originated with two half-brothers, Francois, Sieur de Vercheres, and Andre, Sieur de Beauregard, who came over from France in l664 when Francois was 23 and Andre 20. Their father, Jean Jarret, an "Avocat au Parliament" married first Claudine de Pecaudy, sister of Antoine de Pecaudy, Seigneur of Contrecoeur, and their one son, Francois, was born in 1641. Claudine died soon after and Jean married second Perrette Sermette, and their son Andre was born in 1644 in the little town of La Raye close to Vienne in Dauphine, one of the provinces of ancient France at the foot of the Alps on the Italian frontier. Le Dauphine forms today the Department of L'Isere de la Drome at Hautes Alps. La Raye is in La Drome and still bears the same name. Within sight of La Raye one still finds the Commune of Beauregard on an affluent of the river Drome about 15 miles from Valence, containing today about 1500 inhabitants. Without doubt, the title of your first ancestor Andre Jarret, Sieur de Beauregard, comes from this commune of which he was Sieur or Seigneur.
The two brothers, Francois and Andre, were officers in the celebrated Regiment de Carignon-Salieres, one of the crack regiments of France named after their Commander Thomas Francois de Carignon, fifth child of Charles Emmanuel 1 of Savoie, and Henri Chapeles, Sieur de Salieres, cousin of his very Christian Majesty. This regiment, after fighting the Turks, arrived back in France in charge of Lauriers. Responding to the desire of the King, the soldiers of Clarignon-Salieres refused to avail of the permission given them to disband and 24 Companies reformed immediately under the command of M. de Salieres who conducted them to New Prance, (Canada). Those 24 companies, around 1800 men, arrived in Canada in 1664. M. de Salieres and the Viceroy, M de Tracy, at the head of these valiant soldiers, pursued the Iroquois to their country and obtained for some time a tranquillity beneficent to the Colony. The regiment was released in 1668 and returned to France, with the exception of about 400 soldiers and 30 officers, who preferred to remain as settlers and stay permanently in the colonies. In 1696 another group of 400 men of the same regiment returned to rejoin their predecessors, which brought to 800 the number of colonists furnished by the Regiment de Carignin.
Officers and soldiers established themselves along the banks of the rivers Richelieu and St.Laurent, which had been the theatre of their exploits launched from Contrecoeur and Montreal. The King encouraged settling and accorded vast Seigneuries to those officers who had the means to colonise them, 15O Livres to Sergeants, and 100 Livres to simple soldiers.
The seigneuries of Chambly, Varennes, Vercheres, Contrecoeur, St.Ours, Sorel and Lavaltrie received as their first Seignuers the officers of the Regiment du Carignon. (With the exception of Lavaltrie which lies on the North side of the river, all these seigneuries are strung along the South bank of the St.Lawrence for 50 miles from Montreal downstream to Lake St.Pierre. Contrecoeurs being about 15 miles from Montreal. Most of then extend in depth to the Richelieu River which, originating in Lake Champlain, finally runs almost parallel to the St. Lawrence, converging at Lake St.Pierre. Contrecoeur lies 15 miles up the St.Lawrence from the confluence.)
Francois Jarret de Vercheres, elder brother of your ancestor Andre, obtained the Seigneurie to which he gave his name and which is noted for the small fort he erected to protect his fief and also for the heroic defence put up by his fourteen year old daughter Madeleine de Vercheres, loved heroine of all Canadians, against marauding Iroquois in 1692, during the absence of father and his soldiers who had gone to the defence of Quebec against Phipps. Left with her two young brothers, an old man of 80, two soldiers "whose courage was nothing remarkable", and some women of the household, the suddenness of the Indian attack left Madeleine only just time to gather them into the fort where she took the defence in hand and gave her orders. By firing the cannon and adroitly disposing her men, she completely deceived the Iroquois as to their numbers. Twice she sallied from the fort when no one else had the courage to go, the first time to retrieve some clothes left on the river bank; and the second time to guide in some new recruits to the fort. The Indians could not credit that she would so expose herself without strong support and thought it some trick, so let her pass. When, on the ninth day, succour arrived from Montreal, Madeleine formally turned over the keys of the fort to the young Officer in command, saying "Sir, you are welcome; I surrender my arms". "Mademoiselle" he gallantly replied, returning the keys, "I am sure they are in good hands." "Better than you think!", was her pert reply. Honors were later bestowed on her for her courage.
During this short siege of Vercheres, Pierre Fontaine, husband of Marguerite Anthiaume (widew of Andre Jarret de Beauregard) living close beside Vercheres and sensing the danger, placed his wife and children in all haste on boats and sought the protection of the fort. This was the occasion of Madeleine's second sortie from the fort to assist in their disembarkation.
Andre Jarret, Sieur de Beauregard, dwelling in the Seigneurie of Vercheres, was granted in Quebec on August 17/1684, title of fief and seigneurie to three small islands of which one was close to L'Isle Lonue belonging to his brother, the Sieur de Vercheres, and two others a little below it "on the line regarded as appertaining to the Sieur de Grand Maison. In the countryside from which your family came, this was a small sanctuary dedicated to Notre Dame de Beauregard.
Andre Jarret de Beauregard married at Montreal, Jan.12/1676, a young girl of family, Marguerite Anthtiaume, a Parisenne by birth, baptised 1653, daughter of Michael Anthiaume and his wife Marie
Dubois, Adjutant to the Grand Provost de l'Hotel de Paris. Andre was 32, Marguerite 23, and all the notables of the countryside assisted at the ceremony. Andre had 5 sons and 3 daughters before his death at 46 in 1690, and a large number of descendants have sprung from this source. Within a year, his widow married Pierre Fontaine. Andre's youngest son John Jarret, baptized 1690, died Dec.17/1759 and buried at Vercheres, married Nov.26/1714, Jeanne Joachin, daughter of Bernard Joachin and Marguerite Pepin, baptised Sept.12/1691 at Boucherville (between Vercheres and Montreal) and buried there April 25/1724. Joseph married a second Charlotte Pineau at Boucherville Nov. 21/1724. Joseph and Jeanne's son Francois Jarret Beauregard (1) was baptised Marie Francois Jarret-Beauregard on Nov.6/1720 at Boucherville. Married at Vercheres Therese Charron, baptised 1722, daughter of Charles Charron and Elisabeth Poupar. Their son -
Francois Jarret Beauregard (2) (birth and death not given) married Oct.1/1781 at Boucherville, Marie Ladoux, daughter of Francois Ladoux and Marie Maheu. Their son:-
Francois Jarret (3) (birth and death not given) married July 13/1807 at St Denis on the Richelieu River, Marie Louise Bergeron, daughter of Joseph Bergeron and Marie Francoise Paquet of St Antoine, across the river from St Denis. Their son:-
Francois Jarret (4), Born Mar.17/1813 at St.Charles on the East bank of the Richelieu River opposite Verchares, married there Feb.7/1842 Eulalie Hebert, baptized June 22./1821 at St. Charles, daughter of Amabele Hebert and Adelaide Loisel. Their son:-
Wilfred Jarret, was born April l3/1858 at St.Charles. When still a young man he came down to Rhode Island and married at Woonsocket May l3/1883 Anna Marie Domithilde Pothier baptised at Yamachiche on Lake St.Pierre Feb.24/1861, daughter of Aram Joseph Pothier and Domithilde Dallaire. Some years earlier, the Pothiers had also moved down from Canada to Rhode Island where Aram became active and highly respected in civic affairs, eventually being three times elected Governor of Rhode Island. It may have been Wilfred's attachment for Anna that induced him to break away from the traditional environment of Vercheres and Beauregard and emigrate to Woonsocket. At any rate there he lived, married, died and was buried Feb.4/1919. He and Anna had nine children:-
1. Lucien, born Mar.16/1886, married Anna Maran and had 4 children,
Erma, Aram, Lucille and Elizabeth.
2. Francisco, born June 29/l887, married Edmond Guerin and had 4 children: Edmond, Vivienne, Muriel and Robert.
3, Esda, born Nov.28/1888, married Gabriel Jalbert and had 3 children: Lorraine, Marie and Paul.
4. Joseph Aram Hugo, born Feb.16/1890 who follows next.
5. Joseph Jerome, born Feb.19/1892, died Aug.6/1892.
6: Laurent Frank born Feb.19/1894 married Mabel Proulx Feb.19/1919, and has 3 children, - Charles Laurent and Edmond.
7. Conrad Lionel, born Feb.14/1896, died April 21/1896.
8. Marie Anne Adele, born Aug.27/1897, married Raymond Shuster and has 2 children, Elaine and Raymond Jr.
9. Jules Adrian Rodolphe, born July 4/l900. Never married.
A correction to the main text:
Email received 20/6/2003 from ER Guerin.
…. I must report an error in the "David Manchester Poole" -- "Sally Jarret Poole's ancestry" section. The Jarret history as you point out is a translation from Drouin. As posted the text reads:
"Wilfred Jarret, was born April l3/1858 at St.Charles. When still a young man he came down to Rhode Island and married at Woonsocket Mayl3/1883 Anna Marie Domithilde Pothier baptised at Yamachiche on LakeSt.Pierre Feb.24/1861, daughter of Aram Joseph Pothier and Domithilde Dallaire. Some years earlier, the Pothiers had also moved down from Canada to Rhode Island where Aram became active and highly respected in civic affairs, eventually being three times elected Governor of Rhode Island..."
The problem is Anna Marie Domithilde Pothier was Aram J. Pothier's sister not his daughter. Governor Pothier was the uncle of issue of Wilfred and Anna Jarret. All of that generation referred to the governor as "Uncle Aram." Indeed some of us two generations later still use that term when speaking of him.
I hope you will find the following text will be helpful in clarifying this obvious mistake in translation.
Wilfred Jarret, was born April l3,1858 at St.Charles. On May l3,1883 he married at Anna Marie Domithilde Pothier in Woonsocket, R. I. She was baptised at Yamachiche on Lake St.Pierre, Feb. 24,1861and was the daughter of Joseph Pothier and Domithilde Dallaire.
Found on the city of Yamachiche' s web site
Joseph-Jules Pothier M. 03-10-1853 Domitilde Dallaire à Lacolle Charles et M.-Louise Plante
Aram Pothier, ancien Gouverneur du Rhode Island né à Châteauguay, a vécu à Yamachiche avec ses parents, fit d'excellentes études primaries au Collège de Yamachiche et au Séminaire de Nicolet.
Emigré au Rhode Island en 1871 avec ses parents, il entra comme messager à la Woonsoket Bank, il en deviendra le président.
Maire deux fois, élu 2 fois à la Chambre des Représentants.
3 fois nommé Lieutenant-Gouverneur
3 mandats successifs, il devient Gouverneur du Rhode Island. Il fut choisi comme représentant du Gouvernement à l'Exposition Universelle de Paris en 1900. C'est celui qui a fait rejaillir le plus d'honneurs dans son pays d'adoption, il est décédé en 1928 et il a eut droit à des funérailles d'État."
As you may know, Aram Pothier served terms as Rhode Island's governor.
Please continue your excellent work and my best to all whom I have come to "know" through your pages, E. R. Guerin son of E. H. Guerin, Jr. the son of Col. E. H. Guerin and Francesca Jarret Guerin
Wilfred and Anna's second son Joseph Aram Hugo Jarret, who later called himself Hugo Aram Jarret, was born at Woonsocket, Rhode Island, Feb.l6/1890 and died there June 6/1959. He was engaged in the wool spinning industry, owning and operating his own mill at Woonsocket, close to Providence. On November 17/1914, he married at St.Patrick's Cathedral, New York:-
Isabel Rolfe White born May 24/1893 in Butler, New Jersey, died at Woonsocket October 12/1958. She was the daughter of Fred White and Anna Cooper Fair, and grand-daughter of James White and Isabel Brewer. She had one brother Harold and two sisters Florence and Mabel. No genealogical records appear to have been preserved by the White family and these few facts are all that is now known of Isabel's ancestry. Although there have been many distinguished bearers of the names White, Cooper and Brewer in American history, no family tree has been passed down. Isabel's maternal tree would have been particularly interesting as she was a descendant of Pecahontas and John Rolfe who were married in Virginia in 1614, since when the eldest daughter in each generation has borne the name Rolfe, as with Isabel herself and her first daughter Susanna Rolfe Jarret, Hugo and Isabel had three children:-
1. Hugo Arami Jarret (2), born in Woonsocket Jan.25/1920 and married there in 1946 Alba Gadoury. They have one daughter, Kristen White Jarret, born 1947. In recent years Hugo and Alba have lived apart, Kristen remaining with her mother.
2. Suzanne Rolfe Jarret, born Dec.26/1923 in Providence, R.I., and married in December 1943, in the Little Church around the Corner, New York City, Edwin Pratt Arnolt, born 1922. They live in Bay Village, Ohio, and have 4 children.
Peter Jarret Armolt born March 7/1945.
June Rolfe Arnolt 1947.
Janice Pratt Arnolt 1950.
Elizabeth White Arnolt 1955.
3 Sally Cooper Jarret, born June 15/1927 in Providence, R.I., and baptized in the Church of Notre Dame des Victoires. Married June 23/1950 in Woonsocket, R.I. David Manchester Poole, born July 4/1920 in Yokohama, Japan, (third son of Otis Manchester Poole and Dorothy May Campbell who were married in Yokohama June 21/1916.) David and Sally live in Rye, N.Y. and have 2 children:
Jeffrey Campbell Poole, born June 11/1952, in Huntington, L.I.
Christopher Jarret Poole, born Nov.11/l954, in Huntington, Long Island, N.Y.
Initial Issue Date: 11 July 2000
15/6/2001: resaved HTML from Word
HAP: Subject 2-B
Issue Date: 26/9/2011
Her own narrative.
wife of Otis M. Poole.
I was born in Yokohama, Japan, May 18/1895. the daughter of William Wallace Campbell, born August 22/1860 in Quebec, Canada, and Clara Edwina Rice ("Calla") born September 21/1871, in Hakodate, Japan. My mother's people had been long resident in the country, her Grandfather, Colonel Elisha E. Rice, of a long line of New Englanders from early colonial days, having been the first American Consul in Japan, barring Townsend Harris. My father's forebears, originally Scottish, were United Empire Loyalists in Canada, whose genealogy and that of the Rice Family, is given later on.
I was born at No.7 Bluff, Yokohama, along the closely built-up hogsback of land above the Bay and harbour which, with the business district below had been allocated by the Japanese to the foreign community; - and there, too, my brother Archibald Kenneth was born October 2/1896. My maternal grandparents, as well as my identical twin Aunts Mabel, then unmarried and Lily married to an Englishman, Frank Gillett, with their child, my cousin Evelyn, were all living in Yokohama at the time. Oddly - unlike the author of the famous poem, - I do not remember the house where I was born; only the larger and grander one of my Aunt Lily Gillett's who lived across the lane, and the quite small bungalow of my grand-parents. Inside the former, I remember a bewildering Victorian clutter of intriguing small tables and bric-a-brac, the presence of a cold and disinterested Uncle, and, in the wide, glassed-in verandah, enormous blue & white porcelain jars containing tall, fan-leaved palms. (These seem to have been the regulation fittings for the verandas of Yokohama even to the time, years later, when I was a bride and had two such of my own!). But the delights, for a child, of Aunt Lily's home were all outdoors, where a fascinating, typically Japanese rock-garden cascaded down one bank of the incredibly steep driveway, to end at the bottom in a small, square lawn. This was equipped with swings in which our older cousin Evelyn gave turns to my small brother and me. I also remember a merry little Japanese girl in a bright kimono who scampered with us along the winding paths and over the brushwood bridges of the beautifully constructed endlessly intriguing rock-garden. She was probably the child of the betto (coachman) who lived in a small cottage by the gate, - and who then did not wear the drab present-day uniform of chauffeurs the world over, but the spotless three-quarter length blue & white patterned Japanese cotton coat. The coats bore the insignia of his employer, whether a private person or a trading house, and were worn over immaculate tight fitting, white native trousers, while a wide, cloth-covered straw hat like an inverted basin, completed the dashing costume.
All foreigners lived on this winding hogsback high above the blue waters of the bay, and the nature of the terrain meant that most gardens fell below the level of the road and were generally charmingly landscaped, according to the wealth of the owners or of the foreign firms who maintained residences for their senior employees. My grandparents' bungalow did not enjoy these advantages, being small and cramped and hidden behind a high wooden fence, with a short brick walk bordered by curious little clumps of dusty, blue-berried grasses, which led to an open veranda, while a thick grove of bamboo hid the servants quarters behind and the sudden drop into the village below. Here the delights were all indoors, where a gentle Granny brought down for me a beloved rag doll with a porcelain head which had been my mother's when she was a little girl, or a brisk young Aunt whistled to her tame canary in the dining room.
I remember the drawing room quite clearly, too: - the draped mantel with the bamboo "what-not" above it. - and in one corner of the room enchanting square blue & white porcelain buckets suspended by straw rope from a revolving porcelain wheel. Here too however was another alarming male, - our fierce, brown-eyed black moustached, heavy-browed American Grandfather, more frightening to us children, because he asked questions of us, than was ever Aunt Lily's cold, blue-eyed, blond-bearded English husband who ignored us.
Two other pictures stand out beside the scattered memories of various small playmates in Yokohama, - and those are of the great deodars, the band-stand and the tennis and croquet lawns of the Bluff Gardens, a park reserved for Europeans, their children, perambulators and Chinese or Japanese amahs; - and a breath-taking ride by rikishaw along the steepest part of the Bluff down to a bathing beach at the farthest end. ittle did I know that the precipitous cliff over which I then peeped rom a rikisha on my amah's lap, fascinated by the junks and steamers far below, would one day hurtle down in the great earthquake of 1923, leaving a wide, impassable gap where the road had been.
Late in the year of 1897 or early '98, my father was trans-ferred for a time to Hongkong, an environment so strangely different from that of Yokohama as to be somewhat intimidating to an overly imaginative child. hough father's office was in the town on the island of Hongkong, we lived across the bay on the mainland at Kowloon, in a large brick building in which we had an apartment. The rooms were so high-ceilinged and empty in comparison with the cluttered cosiness of the clapboard houses built by foreigners in Japan, that all I can recollect of them now is their size - and the huge spiders which my father shot from the ceiling with an air-gun!
There is an unhappy picture of getting "lost" around the block, - and an equally distressing one, to small children of meeting a drunken English Marine and his drunken sailor friend along the road! Chinese voices were noisy and gabbling, so that even the most peaceable conversation sounded to us like a fight; -and somehow, quite unfairly, perhaps, China has always remained for me a disturbing country. The one jolly picture of Hong-Kong days is of the bathing parties got together by my parents off the Company launch; and the unforgettable, awe-inspiring journey by cable-car up the steep sides of the Peak, the magnificent, winding Bay spread below one with the high-pooped Chinese ships and foreign steamer like tiny water-beetles among the islands in the sun. In Kowloon there was a Park, - with a band-stand, glorious strutting pea-cocks and wide-spreading, fern-like "sensitive trees" whose fronds promptly closed at the inquisitive touch of childish fingers. Unforgettable, too, even to a little girl, were the figures of large, bearded Sikh policemen, as well as those of the dapper, white uniformed young officers of the Royal Navy and of the British Colonial Regiments stationed there.
n 1901 my father was given home leave and we all traveled via San Francisco to Quebec where we children first met our venerable white-bearded grandfather. He was an esteemed barrister and Protho-notary for the province of Quebec and his able opinions and judgments written in a fine spencerian hand, are still preserved and consulted in the Court-house of Quebec. These were proudly shown me years later when my husband and I visited Canada in 1941. At the time when we children and our mother first saw my grandfather, he had been a widower for many years, living still at the old family home, "Thornhill"; and I have a vivid recollection of that first glimpse as he strolled up from the barns behind the dormer-windowed gray stone house. After the familiar Japanese ponies and the small carts we knew, the large haywains and huge farm horses of "Thornhill" made an indelible impression on us children; and, though only six or seven, I still have equally vivid memories of the flower-bordered vegetable garden, the sweet-scented meadows, the rolling lawns and the big sugar maples and wide-spreading oaks of this, my father's old boyhood home. And last, but not least, there was the formidable old Irish housekeeper "Nin" who had been the family nurse in my Grandmother's day and bewildered Archie and me by falling on my father's shoulders and declaring between copious tears that it was the happiest day of her life. Living nearby were also my father's elder brother Colin and his wife and young daughter; - and at the Hotel Chateau Frontenac were father's sister Agnes with her French-Canadian husband, Ernest Hamel. I remember, too, how pretty was this Aunt and how frail, never having recovered from the loss of her only child, a beautiful little boy of about four. There were cousins of father's living by a lake, whom we visited too, whose names I have sadly forgotten except that the mother was called Grace. A snapshot names the place "Inverness".
After bidding goodbye to Quebec, we then went to a second cousin of my mother's, Judge James Burns Wallace, and his round, jolly wife Alice, on their farm beside Hart's Pond in Canaan, New Hampshire, where again there were hayfields, immense barns and a big homestead with wide verandas, for Archie and me to roam in. All a wonderful experience after cramped Japan.
Finally leaving America on the expiration of father's leave we returned to Japan, but this time to be posted in the Southern port of Kobe at the mouth of the Inland Sea, where beautiful hills rose steeply from the business settlement and provided a delightful golf course and summer resort, as well as pleasant Sunday walks through wooded groves past little shrines or up narrow valleys to procure fresh eggs from the farms. We children never tired of watching the turning of the huge water wheels beside the mountain streams, and of being taken into the thatched mills to see the grain being pounded by the busy wooden hammers activated by slow revolutions of the big wet wheels outside. There was a pleasing, elusive scent to the floury dust too, which still haunts my nostrils and brings back, as scents so often do, a special vividness to those delightful walks. Besides holidays in the Kobe hills, we spent an occasional Summer on Lake Hakone on the Idzu Peninsula at the foot of Fujiyama or at Dzushi Beach not far from Yokohama where we watched the fisher-men, standing at the edge of the water, fling their big round
nets over a tell-tale ripple and draw in a catch of fish. Hakone held the added excitement of long rides in Japanese "kago" - bamboo and rattan palanquins - swinging up through heavily wooded hillsides past ancient temples and sparkling streams, finally arriving at a picturesque thatched village, with Fuji reflected in the reed bordered mirror of the Lake. One went up to Rokkosan, the Summer resort of Kobe, in the same manner, for there were neither automobiles nor funilcular in those early days almost sixty years ago. We would start from Kobe in a cavalcade of rikishaws along the foot of the range changing to "kago" up the mountainside, while the men usually walked beside our palanquins or rode up on wiry little Japanese ponies On one occasion, lacking horses, my amusing father once rode up astride an ox.
We lived in Kobe for five years, first in a small bungalow, then in the usual two-storied clapboard house on the flanks of the hills, our garden being supported, as were all the others, by a bunding wall fifteen feet high. Below us was a small temple, and there will always echo in my memory the deep "bong" of its big bronze bell as the priest struck it several times a day. The roads in Kobe were very steep and one of my most distressing memories is of poor over-laden horses struggling up them, the Japanese having, unfortunately, little understanding of animals and little sympathy to spare for them, since they themselves, with ropes hitched around their waists and attached to bands across their foreheads, hauled heavy loads too. My father was one of the founders of the S.P.C.A. in Japan, and until he left the islands a sick man years later was one of the most ardent and faithful workers in that field, gaining the interest and co-operation of the Japanese Governor and influential businessmen who together effected great reforms.
Our schooling in Kobe was very haphazard and we were taught in private homes by whatever earnest matrons our particular Anglo-American group of parents could procure to tutor their children. The only two professional schools which Archie and I briefly attended were the crowded Catholic Convent School, in which there were a number of Japanese and Eurasian children, and one run by three pleasant English school-mistresses, - an aunt and her nieces, - who shortly retired and moved to Kyoto. However, the last two governesses we and our friends shared, were first an American and then a young English-man who each had actual degrees in teaching. Between them and the demands of our international group, our grounding in European, English and American history was truly cosmopolitan and broad in outlook and has, I think, unconsciously influenced me all my life.
In 1904, when our mother was absent for some reason, Archie and I were entrusted to the care of these three kind schoolmistresses in Kyoto. While there, we were taken one Sunday to a small brick church in which the Japanese had humanely permitted a Russian priest to hold services for their prisoners, - it was the time of the Russo-Japanese War, - and I vividly remember the sight of these huge bedraggled Cossacks, escorted by diminutive Japanese guards, their rich, deep-toned, unaccompanied voices filling the little church with sadness and nostalgia. Before the hymn began, there was no sound other than the sudden "ping" of a tuning fork, and I recall no prayers being said; perhaps the Japanese had prohibited these? However, since it was then their earnest aim to present before the world a picture of civilised adherence to the international codes of war, it is possible that in this particular my nine year old memory may have been at fault. When peace was signed after an astounding Japanese victory, England dispatched Prince Arthur of Connaught to present a congratulatory Order to the Emperor. He was wearisomely entertained by both the Japanese and the British contingents in every port, - and in Kobe by a reception at the British Consulate where I was one of six little girls to go up two by two and hand him incongruous bouquets of flowers. All over the country were joyful victory parades, and in the harbors thrilling displays of fireworks, at which both the Chinese and Japanese had long been experts.
Besides these particular spectacles connected with the Russo-Japanese War the most vivid pictures left on our minds were the annual cycle of national festivals: - the Boys', with gay wind-filled carp of paper or cloth flying for every man child on bamboo mastheads from each house; - the Girls', with lovely displays of traditional dolls; - New Year's, with its emblems of pine, bamboo and plum at every door; besides the many festivals or "Matsuri", of the various religious sects when dignified processions of priests were followed by immense carved and gilded palanquins or shrines lurching and swaying on the shoulders of rollicking aen. There were also the funerals with priests and mourners clothed in robes of white: a lovely basket cage on wheels from which a flock of pigeons would later be released over the grave to symbolise the ascent of the spirit to Heaven. How beautiful this hopeful symbolism is in comparison with our European funeral processions swathed in gloomy black and the cold emphasis on "ashes to ashes"!
We children of the foreign communities were also regaled from time to time by wonderful parties at the beautiful homes of the well-to-do Japanese residents, charabancs being sent for us, our mothers and our devoted Japanese nurses. There were many little Japanese guests too, all exquisitely dressed in their brightest kimonos, a kaleidoscope of color on the wide lawns. Professional entertainers were engaged to fascinate the young with conjuring tricks, - and clever artists to create before our eyes perfect little models of small animals, or graceful sprigs of plum-blossom and cherry, all done in a special paste of rice-flour and water and then daintily colored. There were delectable cakes, too, and gifts to be taken home; so no one forgot one of these marvellous parties!
For the foreign children of Kobe, there were also regular bathing expeditions to the Yacht Club down the bay, which we reached in company by means of hired lighters towed by a launch; - and for Archie and me, sailing in our father's succession of boats, yachting being his passion. There were, too, interesting public occasions among the foreigners, when each national group celebrated its own special holidays:- for the British, the Queen's Birthday; the Americans, Independence Day; the French, the Fall of the Bastille, and so on, with games and races for the children on the Recreation Grounds. Jolliest of all, for our parents was the St Andrew's Ball, given by the Scots, when tartans whirled and everyone with a Scottish name wore, if not kilts, at least a sash and a sprig of heather. These did not come my way for many years but I can well remember the enthusiasm with which my dainty little mother, as a Campbell wife, practiced the reels.
In 1907, when I was 12 and my brother 10 1/2, Archie and I were taken by our parents to England via America, visiting once again my mother's cousins in New Hampshire. Grandfather Campbell having died the previous year, we did not go this time to Canada, my parents objective being to find suitable schools for us in Britain before the end of father's leave and his obligatory return to Japan, though mother would be remaining with us for the better part of a year. These hard separations were the inevitable lot of most foreign families in the Far East, particularly among the British whose tradition of an eminent boarding school for their sons was compelling. My parents, however chose to settle Archie and me in Guernsey, in spite of our having widowed Aunts in England, partly because of the fine climate of the Channel Islands and partly because lifelong friends from Japan, the Valdemar Blads (he a Dane and she English) had retired there and would keep a constant and affectionate eye upon us. Our every Sunday was spent at their home, "Beau Sejour", where I became a great tomboy among my brother and their five sons, the two eldest being our exact contemporaries, and one my particular chum all through my girlhood. With them I climbed the great trees on their extensive grounds and enthusiastically joined in games of football, hockey, tennis and cricket. There was an older sister, Helga, but she was mostly in England with her grandmother. My brother went, as a boarder, to the same school the Blad boys attended, Elizabeth College, founded in the great Queen's day;- and I to the excellent "Ladies' College" patterned after the famous girl's school in Cheltenham, whence our Headmistress and most of our teachers came. Among my fellow-boarders were the daughters of Tea Planters in Ceylon, civil servants and retired military men from India and merchants from Jamaica, South Africa and elsewhere in the Colonies, several bearing the old French island names.
The Channel Islands are superlatively lovely, gorse-covered cliffs, with guardian Norman Martello towers and wave-filled caverns marking the Southern coast, tree-arched water-lanes with their running streams leading down past the towers to enticing coves and bays and sparkling beaches. The central table-land is given over to dairy farming and the growing of tomatoes, grapes, flowers and vegetables for mainland markets, the acres of greenhouses making an unromantic adjunct to the old stone farm-houses. To the North the land flattens into sand-dunes where an occasional dolmen or cromlech has been uncovered by time; but here treacherous finger of submerged rock run out into the sea and account for many a tragic wreck. The islands were at one time part of the fiefdom of Normandy, indeed not islands at all but joined to it. French is used in all proclamations and in the courts; and a patois is still spoken among the fishermen and farmers. In my day a Guernsey penny of less value than the English was minted, and with the use of a silver 50-centime piece added confusion worse confounded to our English currency.
My school days were particularly happy in this Idyllic spot, though Archie, being a bit frail and not athletic did not fare as well in the rough and tumble of his boys' boarding school.
We spent our first summer holidays with mother on the smaller island of Sark, immortalized in Victor Hugo's "Toilers of the Sea", but after her return to Japan our holidays were varied and when not arranged for among teachers or others who would have us, we went most often to London to our father's older widowed sister: "Haddie" who, during the long absences of my mother in the Far East, virtually took her place and exercised a great influence upon me. One Summer, she took us to Germany where she "drank the waters" at Bad Nauhein, Homburg and Wiesbaden, including in our return to England a trip down the Rhine by excursion steamer from Bonn to Rotterdam. Wherever we were, Aunt Haddie took us to neighboring points of interest; and while in Bad Nauheim, we saw the arrival of the Czar and Czarina of Russia and their children at the nearby palace of Alexandria's parents the Grand Duke and Duchess of Hesse Darmstadt, whom they were visiting incognito.
Aunt Haddie was also responsible for getting us leave from our Guernsey schools to see, from the vantage point of a friend's house overlooking St.James' Park, the magnificent Coronation procession on June 22nd, 1911, of King George and Queen Mary. It was particularly interesting in retrospect for the other still-reigning monarchs of Europe, as well as jewelled Indian Princes and Potentates from all over the Empire, rode in resplendent uniforms behind the great gilded coach, the lines of marching soldiery continuing for hours, a memorable sight. Among the guests of Aunt Haddie's friend in Carlton House Terrace on this occasion was the young grandson of the Duke of Argyll, a few years younger then Archie, to whom we were introduced as "fellow-Campbells" though I doubt if this impressed any one of us children.
Aunt Haddie was a beautiful and accomplished woman who had travelled widely in Europe with her husband Capt. Alfred Jephson, R.N. and during his lifetime led a fascinating life. In 1891, he was appointed Honorary Secretary of the first Royal Naval Exhibition given in London that year, in the success of which King Edward, then Prince of Wales, was keenly interested; and was afterwards knighted by Queen Victoria for his outstanding part in the undertaking. Before this when stationed on the Isle of Wight, Alfred had several times sailed aboard the Royal Yacht "Britannic" and he and Aunt Haddie were often guests at Osborne House where they met the Royal Family informally and earned the particular respect and liking of the Prince of Wales who when Sir Alfred died on September 12/1900, wrote Aunt Haddie the kindest possible letter in his own hand. Queen Victoria also dictated a personal note of condolence, as did her widowed daughter-in-law, the Duchess of Albany, and her grandson the Duke of York (afterwards George the Fifth) who referred to Alfred as "his friend". During Lady Jephson's widowhood, Edward saw to it that a brace of partridges or grouse was delivered to her from time to time from his "shoots", as well as tickets for Ascot and Ranelagh. Besides these interesting royal contacts, the Jephsons met many of the well-known writers and painters of the day: - the du Mauriers, Browning, Oscar Wilde, Lecky and George Russell ("A,E,") among the writers; - with Whistler (who lived opposite them), Sargent, Leighton, Alma-Tadema, Millais and George Boughton among the artists.The last-named encouraged Aunt Haddie in her own painting and she subsequently had pictures hung in the Grafton and other galleries of London, as well as several private exhibitions, one graced by Princess Beatrice.
After her husband's death Aunt Haddie was very lonely but having both beauty and wit never lacked for friends, wrote three or four books of travel and reminiscence and, until her health failed worked hard for several charities and the Primrose League; and continued to follow much of her previous round, -the London season, the Races, the Riviera, the German Spas and so on. Hers was a fascinating personality and Archie and I were fortunate that, having no children of her own, she lavished her warm, if somewhat exacting, affection on us. With her we saw, and learned the history of, the historical landmarks of London, went to the galleries, attended a service in the Chapel Royal, and visited the country homes of several of her charming friends. Though we young people were occasionally bored by all this, I cannot thank her enough in retrospect.
My mother's widowed twin sisters and our cousin Evelyn were also in London in our school years living quietly in Hampstead; and Archie and I enjoyed the relaxed and familiar atmosphere of their pretty flat filled with Oriental things, where nothing in particular was asked of us and we were completely at ease. But we saw nothing, when with them, outside the family circle.
Others who influenced us were my father's gentle spinster cousins, May, Rosie and Heyland Pryce-Browne the youngest sister deeply wrapped up in a devout Anglo-Catholicism which later drew Archie in to that orbit and determined his high church clerical career. Their only brother Bertie Pryce-Browme, a Captain in the Royal Marines, was killed in Belgium early in the first World War, leaving Archie and me with no male relative in England, a lack which was particularly unfortunate for him.
In 1912, when I had just turned seventeen, my parents came home on leave; and after another Summer together on the small island of Sark, they returned to Japan, seeing me off first from London with a Guernsey school-mate Esmee Le Feuvre and four others from England and Scotland for a year's schooling in Germany. This was a wonderfully broadening experience for the classmates who joined us in Dresden came from Norway, Sweden, Finland, Holland and Java, Canada, Germany itself and even from Russia and Romania, whereas our three teachers were German, English and French. In such a polyglot group, one common language was imperative and we soon all learned to speak fluent German.
Dresden since devastated in a second World War, was then filled with beautiful cathedrals, palaces, galleries and parks, having also a fine theatre and opera house. We were taken as well on delightful expeditions into the mountains around us or by excursion steamer up the gorges of the Elbe, returning sometimes by moonlight while everyone on deck joined in singing old German folk-songs.
Our school was housed in a handsome building not far from the Crown Prince's palace and had once been the Chinese embassy. There were parquet floors in our bedrooms, a marble entrance hall, and great porcelain stoves everywhere, a pleasant recollection of "gemutlicheit" to offset the horrors of the war soon to follow.
After Germany, just prior to my eighteenth birthday, my parents called us back to Japan, refusing to allow us to be presented at Court as Aunt Haddie begged, feeling that it would play no part in my future life. I left London in the early Spring of l913 for Berlin and the Trans Siberian Railway in the charge of a dear friend from Yokohama, "Uncle" Leonard Healing. It was an unforgettable journey of two weeks across such a vast territory as to include every variety of scenery and climate; dark forests and deep snow, dry steppes and choking dust which managed somehow to penetrate the tightly closed double windows; then snow again and a break-down on the edge of Lake Baikal, the wind wheeling the flakes about us; and at the far end of the lake, just visible, the chimneys of the sad political prison. The small wayside stations all along the line were desolation itself, with peasants huddled for warmth around the big iron stoves inside; and just a few rough log homesteads scattered about. There were, I think, only one train East and one West a week and these met quite ceremoniously at a half-way crossing point, all the passengers excitedly piling out to exchange the news of the day. I particularly remember two Chinese students among them, whose home dialects were so dissimilar as to find it easier to talk to one another in English The trans-Siberian trains were most comfortable, except that water was so jealously hoarded that the much advertised baths were never used, except as a depository for empty bottles. The carriages were solidly built and rolled along smoothly on the widest gauge roadbed in the world, but even so it was a relief finally to reach Vladivostock and the hoped-for but still elusive tub! Having been delayed at Lake Baikal for repairs, we missed the connecting boat to Japan, so had to spend one night in a Vladivostock hotel, where once more we were told that baths were unfortunately not available! Next morning, when we got aboard the Japanese steamer, an amusing line of passengers immediately formed, armed with towels and sponges, waiting eagerly for their first real wash in a fortnight; and never did hot soak feel more delicious!
The charm and daintiness of Japan, with its green paddyfields pretty thatched cottages, blossoming trees and the first glimpse of Fujiyama, were most refreshing after our sombre journey, a prelude to three years of the jolly life awaiting any debutante of the foreign community in Yokohama or Kobe. I was particularly happy, through those chaperoned days in having zestfu1, sympathetic parents whose sunny natures endeared them to young and old. There were tennis and dancing, amateur theatricals and concerts (in all of which my mother excelled) picnics and sailing with my father in his graceful yacht "Daimyo", as well as parties aboard the occasional warships in port, (German among them to begin with) all made the more exciting for us since men conveniently outnumbered the girls in all the Treaty-ports and romance abounded!
My most determined beau was an American, Chester Poole (Otis Manchester, in full) whom I married in 1916, - and from that moment on my story ceases as an individual narrative and merges with his. Our parents had long been friends and it is odd that his mother should have given me, when I was only twelve and bound to boarding school, a gold brooch of her own in the form of a lover's knot, having enamelled forget-me-nots entwined in it. Little did she think that I should one day grow up to be her daughter-in-law. Perhaps this graceful emblem had something to do with our happy marriage, - who knows?
Dorothy Campbell Poole's Paternal Ancestry
Her own Narrative of:
Note 10/2001: alternative origins of the Saxton family at the end of this paper.
A history assembled from family books letters and papers; from inscriptions on tombstones in the Saxton plot in Mt Hermon Cemetery Quebec; from Court Records; and above all from the invaluable family trees compiled by my cousin Myrtle Campbell Fender through years of patient research. Without the generous loan of these and her constant help, for which I am most grateful, it would have been impossible to contrive this narrative. Nor would it ever have attained its genealogical sequence without my husband's constructive arrangement and useful elaborations D.C.P. 1964.
My Campbell ancestors were Scottish settlers in Colonial America, the first of our line, according to my Aunt Harriet Campbell, having left Scotland on retiring from the Army and settled in Virginia, just where we do not know. Perhaps, as another family legend has it, he came to Maryland. Uncertainty also exists as to whether he stemmed from the Campbells of Argyle or those of Breadalbane. The latter belief was accepted by Aunt Harriet (later Lady Jephson) in her book "Notes of a Nomad", and was shared by my father and his second cousin Ernest Rankin, a barrister of Montreal, all three equally great-grand-children of the first Archibald Campbell of Quebec. However, Lady Noble, who as Margery Durham Campbell was the granddaughter of that same Archibald and therefore a generation closer, says in her biography "A Long Life" that her father believed the family to have come from Argyle which was also the firm conviction of my father's younger brother Lt.Col. Kenneth Campbell. His daughter, my cousin Myrtle Fender, tells how Kenneth often recounted an event of his boyhood when he and his two brothers Colin and Willie stood with their father at a crossroads near their Quebec home "Thornhill" , resplendent in their Argyle tartan to wave a welcome to Princess Louise and her husband the Duke of Argyle, when the latter arrived in Canada as the new Governor General; and their pride when the Duke, on spying them, stopped his carriage "to greet his kinsmen".
The fact that our grandmother Isabella Prior Campbell was on the distaff side descended from distinguished Campbells of Breadalbane, and very proud of it, may have given rise to later confusion, particularly since her constant practice of dressing the children in the Breadalbane tartan is one of her daughter Harriet's early girlhood memories and possibly influenced her thinking. In an old letter written from "Thornhill" in 1872, Isabella confesses that her husband Archibald twitted her on her fervent predilection for her Breadalbane forbears; and his amused tolerance seems to suggest that he, on the contrary, held himself to be an Argyle. Be that as it may, Cousin Myrtle and I feel that the tradition of the Argyle origin of our first Colonial ancestor is probably the correct one. Beyond these slender and conflicting clues, we have nothing positive to go upon and our factual history begins with his son:-
Archibald Campbell, born 1753 (we do not know where) died 1818 in Quebec. During the American Revolution, he married in Old Trinity Church, New York City, Charlotte Saxton (1762-1830) younger daughter of of John Quelch Saxton (l733-l809) late Captain in the Grenadier Guards and brother of Capt. Sir Charles Saxton, R.N., Bart of Circourt and Caldecot House, Abingdon, Berkshire. The British Army being then in occupation of New York City (1776-l783) they were married by the Military Chaplain probably about 1780 when Charlotte would have been 18 and Archibald 27. The record is said to be in the Register of the Horse Guards in London. Since the Saxtons are equally our ancestors, I give here what we know of them:-
Clement Saxton, married Joan Justice and died 1736.
Their son was:-
Edward Saxton, Merchant, of White Friars, London who married
Elisabeth, daughter, of Thomas
They had six children:-
1. Sir Charles Saxton, 1st Baronet, Captain Royal Navy 1762;
H.M.S."Invincible" with Hood at St.Kitts, Jan. 1782; Commissioner of
the Royal Dockyard at Plymouth l789; died 1808 and buried in Gloucester
Cathedral. He acted as Second to the Duke of Richmond in his famous duel with
H.R.H.the Duke of York. Married in 1771 Mary, daughter of Jonathan Bush of
Burcot, County Wexford, Ireland.
They had two children:
1. Charles, 2nd Bart, 1773-1838, who died without issue and the Baronetcy became extinct
2. Mary, married Admiral Robert Dudley Oliver.
They had several children. Their eldest surviving son John Oliver, born 1809, inherited Circourt and was a J.P. and D.L. for Berks. He married 1st in 1837 Matilda, only daughter of Col. Morgan of Llandough Castle, County Glamorgan. She died the following year and he married 2nd in 1849 Lucy Diana, daughter of Col. Thos. P. Mannsell of Thorpe Malsor, County Northampton; and had one son, Robert Dudley Mannsell, born 1853.
2. John Quelch Saxton, (1733-1809) Captain, Grenadier Guards.
We do not know whom he married but
they had two daughters:
1. Harriet, who never married.
2. Charlotte Saxton, (1762-1830) who married c.1780, our ancestor Archibald Campbell.
3. Clement Saxton, died 1810,
Colonel Berkshire Militia.
4. Anne Saxton.
5. Mary Saxton, married John Brome.
6. Elizabeth Saxton married a Mr.Prince of Abington and had two children, Norman and Elizabeth.
At the time of his daughter's marriage to Archibald
Campbell, Capt. John Quelch Saxton possessed extensive lands on the Delaware
River in Pennsylvania which, according to tradition included most of the ground
on which Philadelphia now stands. On the outbreak of the Revolution, he was
offered a Generalship in the American Army which he refused, remaining loyal to
the Crown. Archibald Campbell likewise adhered to his allegiance to Britain
whereas a brother espoused the Colonial cause and became a Captain in the
American Navy. Unfortunately, we do not know his name. When the war ended,
the property of those who had supported the Crown was declared forfeit and over
100,000 Loyalists either returned to Europe or migrated to Canada. Capt.
Saxton and Archibald, having both lost their possessions, determined to move to
Canada and like many other United Empire Loyalists sailed with their families
to Shelburne in Nova Scotia, later making their way to Quebec City. There they
established their new hose on St.Foy Road, calling it "Saxvilla".
This road originates in the heart of the city as St.Jeans Road under which name
it runs out Westward for a mile beyond the old wall before it becomes St.Foy
Rd. which in turn develops into the highway to Montreal along the North bank of
the St.Lawrence. In those days, St.Foy Rd would have been well out in the
country above the Battlefield and the Plains of Abraham and both farms and
residences were surrounded by many acres of land. There is no clue as to where
"Saxvilla" stood but in the years that followed, it was often
referred to as "The Big House". Apparently the Saxtons and Campbells
lived together as both Capt. Saxton and Archibald died there, the former in
l809 and the latter on July 20, 1818. In no family chronicles is Mrs.Saxton
mentioned by name and it is possible that Capt. Saxton had long been a widower
and looked after by his daughters. This, however, is mere conjecture. We know
little of the lives of Archibald and Charlotte, or the Saxtons, after their
arrival in Quebec; but in spite of the loss of their possessions in America,
they seem to have lived in comfort and brought up their children with the
traditional graces and a good education. As to Archibald's occupation, a
possible clue is afforded by a very fine portrait of him in the possession of a
descendant of his granddaughter Charlotte, George Mellis Douglas of Lakeside, Ontario,
an explorer of North Western Canada and author, who describes the painting as
of "a very handsome old gentleman, some of whose features are strongly
reproduced in many of his descendants. The portrait has an open window in the
background through which the sea and a ship are depicted.
I have a hazy recollection of having heard my father say that he was in some way connected with the shipping business." It may be that Archibald founded a shipyard in Quebec as his eldest son John Saxton Campbell is known to have been connected with the firm of Campbell & Black, shipbuilders of Quebec. More on this subject appears in John's life.
Charlotte's spinster sister Harriet struck out for herself by establishing a Ladies' School in Montreal on St.Paul's St which was still flourishing at the time of her father's death in l809. In her old age, during the 1830s Harriet lived with her niece Henrietta Sheppard in "Woodfield", the Sheppard home in Quebec.
After Archibald's death in 1818, his widow Charlotte continued to live in "Saxvilla" with her two young daughters for some years but the place was probably sold on her death in 1830
Archibald and Charlotte Campbell had 3 sons and two daughters:-
1. John Saxton b. 1782 d. 1855
2. Archibald 1863
3. Charles 1792 1872
5. Louise Sophia 1800 1885
In telling of their lives, I shall, for convenience, deal with Charles (my great grandfather) last.
is believed to have been born in New York before the family
moved to Canada, presumably about 1782, and died in l855. He married Mary
Vivian, born -, died 1877. They had no children. To quote his niece Margery
Durham Campbell (Lady Noble) "He was not only tall and well built but
very strong, calm and collected and of a very different character from my
father Archibald who was lively active and too good-natured Uncle John had
large timber or lumber coves and I think must have been associated with his
brother-in-law, our Uncle Sheppard, as they both had to do with large rafts and
timber coves. The wood used to be brought down the river from the forests to
the city in enormous rafts and I have often watched them, - huts in the center
for the raftsmen to sleep in and flags on poles stuck about. Ships would be
loaded by stevedores with cargoes of great logs for England from these
In 1835 John purchased from the estate of Andrew Lachlan Fraser the ancient Seigneurie of L'Islet du Portage, Pointe Seche, near St. Andre de Kamouraska on the lower St. Lawrence. Founded in 1672 the Seigneurie, after many vicissitudes, passed out of French into Scottish hands in 1764, and in 1777 was bought by Capt. Malcolm Fraser in whose family it remained for three generations. Extending 6 miles along the St. Lawrence with a depth of 8 miles, it embraced 30,000 acres of virgin forests and small farms. Set back on a bluff fringing the river stood the manor house, ruggedly built of staunch timbers by ships' carpenters in the French Colonial manner, while fringing the shore below were strung granaries, a mill, warehouses, a school, wharves and a shipyard. Here the Frasers had built several schooners and a square-rigged ship. The manor house itself dates from their last years. Our family lore has it that timbers from the Seigneurie were ferried across the St. Lawrence to the shipyard of John Sexton Campbell for the construction of the "Royal William", the first ship to cross the Atlantic solely under steam, in 1832. This dovetails with the historical fact that the "Royal William" was built in the yards of Campbell & Black, ship-builders of Quebec and identifies John Sexton Campbell or his father Archibald, as the Campbell of that partnership. Another anecdote linking John with ship-building comes from Lady Noble who recounts that "My Uncle John had prodigious physical strength and it is told of him that when a schooner being launched stuck on the ways, he put his shoulder to her and the vessel moved off."
It was three years after the building of the "Royal William" that John Saxton Campbell bought the Seigneurie at Pointe Seche, no doubt a sequel to the lumber transactions with the Frasers. John and his wife Mary Vivian spent their Summers at Pointe Seche from 1835 to 1841 but it seems that after that the house was seldom occupied and left in charge of a caretaker who lived in the cottage. John died at Penzance, Cornwall, April 2 1855, his widow living on till Nov.17/1877. Having no children, he bequeathed Pointe Seche after his widow's use, to all his nephews and nieces who included my grandfather Archibald; and he being a lawyer, administered the estate for his Aunt Mary until her death. It was during these years 1855/1877 that my father William Wallace Campbell and his brothers and sisters spent so many childhood Summers at the Seigneurie of which they all held treasured memories. On the widow's death, one of the nieces, Sophia's daughter Louise Wurtele Rankine, bought out the shares of all the others and took over the Seigneurie which she eventually bequeathed to her two youngest sons Capt. Alan and Ernest Rankin, who came into their inheritance on her death in 1936.
In 1941, when my husband Chester and I were motoring in Canada we found Pointe Seche after a diligent search, about 100 miles down river from Quebec. Imagine our delight, on struggling up the stony path, to be met by one of these now elderly sons, Ernest, who happened to be there with yet another brother to make certain readjustments necessitated by the Canadian Government's annulment of ancient Seigneural rights effective that very week. He most kindly showed us all over the quaint, weather-bleached and now almost empty house, regaling us with curious legends. The echoing house stood high off the ground, an unusually wide veranda encircling the main floor, to which a flight of broad wooden steps gave access. From the main entrance in the last gable, an airy hallway ran straight through to the West end where similar steps led down to the garden. Spacious living rooms opened into the main salon reaching up two stories with a gallery along one side. The bedrooms upstairs, divided by a central hall, were quite simple. One had been securely boarded up "because of the ghost." In another an austere iron bed had given repose to Lord Wolseley during the Red River Insurrection in 1870. A decrepit grand piano still stood in one corner of the drawing room and a few oil portraits on the denuded and weather-stained walls looked forlorn and reproachful in the musty atmosphere of disuse. A gaunt old French retainer, whose mother had been housekeeper in my grandparents day, gallantly insisted in his broad patois that I closely resembled one of those feminine ancestors whom he claimed to remember clearly as a visitor to the Seigneurie during his childhood. He even recollected what an exceptionally strong swimmer my grandfather had been. What has become of this old Seigneurie since then we have never heard; but its dreamy atmosphere of timelessness lingers with one nostalgically.
born circa 1788, died July 16/1863
in Quebec. He married April 8/1817, Agnes Durham George, also of Quebec, whose
ancestors were the Strathmores of Glamis Castle. "She was a girl of great
refinement and had a remarkable taste in poetry." She outlived her husband
18 years, dying in 1880.
Archibald was His Majesty's Notary for Lower Canada and one of the duties of his office was to administer the oaths to the Governor General on his arrival from England. He also had his law office. Speaking of her childhood his wife (Lady Noble) says: "Our house faced the Citadel, where the Governor General lived, and the Union Jack flying told us the way the wind blew. In the moonlight, the shadows of the grand old poplar trees in the Governor's garden fell along our street. Opposite us was another garden where stood the obelisk, the monument to Wolfe and Montcalm." This latter Square, now called "The Governor's Garden", lies between the Citadel and Chateau Frontenac, a commanding site at the tip of Quebec over-looking the river. Lady Noble continues: " I remember walks with my father and mother when we went through the Gate St. Louis to get into the Country. The gloom of the Gate and the darkness of the sally-port half frightened us children." (The St. Louis Gate was demolished in 1871.) "Father was not only himself musical, playing the flute from boyhood but a patron of music all his life. By nature lively, active too good- natured he perhaps wasted money on promoting music. Naturally his children were also musically gifted, possessing fine voices and playing various instruments. We owned the Seignuerie of Ste. Cecile de Bic, which brought him no profit. On it, he built a cottage from the veranda of which one could look across the St. Lawrence to the far shore; and our family spent the Summers there."
Archibald and Agnes had eight children:-
1/1. Sophia Georgina Campbell, born about 1818 died in childhood when 5 or 6 years old.
1/2. A daughter who died at six months.
1/3. Charlotte Saxton Campbell, 1820-1852. Was clever and musical.
She had an exquisite soprano,
early developed and sang a solo in the cathedral at the age of 15. She married
at 18 or 19 George Douglas, Quarantine Officer for Quebec. They lived in
Summer on the lovely island "Grosse Isle" where later on over 5,000
fugitives from the Irish potato famine of 1847 were buried. They had 4 sons
and 1 daughter.
2/1. Campbell Mellis Douglas, an Army Surgeon, Colonel,
who was awarded the Victoria
Cross for rescuing 17 soldiers from rebellious prisoners on the Andaman Islands
and getting them safely to a ship under heavy fire. He married the young widow
of Surgeon Valentine Munbee McMaster, 78th Highlanders, also a V.C., won at
Lucknow in the Sepoy Mutiny who died leaving a year old son Bryce McMaster.
(1934 Bryce was living at 15 Park Crescent Oxford.)
Campbell M Douglas' own sons were:-
3/1. George Mellis Douglas, born circa 1870, an explorer by
canoe of the remote Canadian Northwest and a well-known author. (His adventures are told in "Lands Forlorn" published by the Knickerbocker Press, Putnams N.Y. 1914.) In 1937 he was living at Lakeside, Ontario and a snapshot taken 5 years earlier shows him, lean and bronzed, with white hair, standing beside his canoe "Alcyone" and strongly resembling my father and his brother Kenneth.
3/2. Lionel Douglas, who in 1934 was the Captain of the "Empress of Japan",
the ship in which Chester and I and our 3 boys came from Japan to British Columbia in 1925. I do not recall of he was our Captain then.
2/2. Archibald Douglas, Admiral, K.C.B., K.C.Vo., he had four children:-
3/1. Archibald Douglas, Commander
R.N. Killed in action 1915.
3/2. John Charles Edward Douglas, Major 10th Yorkshire Regiment.
Killed in action 1915.
3/3. David William Shafto Douglas, b.1883, married 1914 the daughter of
Charles Stevenson of Edinburgh. He was Lieut Commander of the "Black Prince" and was killed in action in 1915.
3/4. A daughter.
2/3. Justin Douglas, a
well-known doctor of Bournemouth.
2/4. Charles Stuart Douglas, killed in an accident on the
Pennsylvania Railroad in 1882.
2/5. Agnes Douglas, went to school in England and married
Reginald Cadman of the Yorkshire
Cadmans. Her only son:-
3/1. William Cadman, a Commander in the Royal Navy, was killed in action in 1917.
1/4. Georgina Campbell, born about 1822 and died at 14. A
1/5. Saxton Campbell, (1826-1850). Was a violinist and a fine tenor;
good looking and a strong swimmer. From early boyhood he had a premonition that he would be drowned; and at the age of 24 he was, off a small yacht shared with a friend, while crossing the St. Lawrence to "Points Seche".
1/6. Margery Campbell, born at Easter 1828, died in 1930 at 102 years
of age. She was not only
beautiful but an excellent pianist. Married in 1854 Capt. Andrew Noble of the
Royal Artillery who soon afterwards was ordered to South Africa only returning
to Woolwich in 1858 where Margery rejoined him with their daughter Lilias
(Lily) who had been born in Quebec after he left. In 1860 Andrew was invited
to join Sir William Armstrong, the great ordnance manufacturer of Elswick, and
ere long became Sir Andrew Noble K.C.B. of Jesmond Dene House, Newcastle on
Tyne. In the course of years they occupied or acquired some beautiful old
homes in Northumberland besides maintaining a flat in London and constantly entertained
interesting notables including the brother of the Japanese Emperor and Admiral
Togo, the Naval victor in the Russo-Japanese war. In 1914 they celebrated
their diamond wedding anniversary and a year later Sir Andrew died, she living
on till 1930. Her book, appropriately entitled "A Long Life" is
historically interesting, especially in relation to the Campbell family.
She and Sir Andrew had six children:-
2/1. Lilias Hilda Geils Noble, (called "Lily") born about 1856 in Canada.
There is no mention of her marrying but she was always active and much interested in the Primrose League.
2/2. George Noble, born in England before 1861 and was in the 13th Hussars in the
Boer War. He married in 1898 and his daughter was born March 3/1900, the day before he embarked for South Africa. He later became Sir George Noble, Bart.
2/3. Saxton William Armstrong Noble, born about 1863, married Celia Brunel James
in 1891. They lived in Kent House, Knightsbridge.
2/4. John Noble. Born in the late
1860's. Created Baronet 1923.
2/5. Philip Noble. Also born in late l860's, married 1899 Mabel Westmacott.
Became High Sheriff of Newcastle.
2/6. Ethel Noble, born in the '60's. Married in 1895, Alfred Cochrane.
Further particulars of the descendants of the Noble family are given in Burke.
1/7. William Darling Campbell, (1830-1885) Was a fine cellist and would have followed a
musical career but when his
brother Saxton was drowned, had to take his place in his father's law office.
He visited his sister Margery in England in 1858 and there married Capt. Andrew
Noble's younger sister, Isabella, taking her back to Quebec. They had 2 sons
and 2 daughters:-
2/1. William Noble Campbell, (l858-1924) who married Gertrude Elise Wilson.
Apparently no children.
2/2. Harold Benjamin Darling Campbell, born l869, died 1940 in Quebec.
Married Blanche ? Their only
3/1. William Campbell, born l908, was accidentally killed in 1926 at Kingston
Military Academy when a cadet of 18. Lily Noble, his father's first cousin, said of this tragedy "alas, an end to the male representatives of my grandfather - (the Archibald Campbell who married Agnes Durham George.)
2/3. Lucy Darling Campbell, born in the early 1860's, died in the l940's.
Married in 1885 Edmund Gustave Jolie de Lotbiniere, Seigneur of Point Platon, Quebec. He was a descendant of Michel Chartier, Marquis de Lotbiniere, (l728-1799), Engineer in Chief of New France, Seigneur of Lotbiniere Vaudreuil, Rigaud. Built the forts of Carillon (Ticonderoga) and Isle au Noix. It was upon his advice that Montcalm attacked Fort William Henry on Lake George (1757) and waited for Abercrombie at Ticonderoga (1758). He was allied to the Vaudreuil family and his portrait hangs in the museum of Chateau de Ramsay in Montreal. My father, William Wallace Campbell visited Sir Henri Jolie de Lotbiniere then Governor of British Columbia, when en route to California as a young man in his twenties. I believe, but am not certain, that Sir Henri was Lucy's father-in-law. Another son of Sir Henri was Major General Alain Chartier Joly de Lotbiniere who built the Cauvery power development in India and was member of the Legislative Council of Bengal. I have no information about Lucy and Edward's descendants but they are prominent in Canada today.
2/4. Grace Darling Campbell, married Edwin Alan Jones. Their only son:
3/1. Marvin Campbell Alan Jones left McGill University to volunteer in
World War I and was killed in action when only 19.
1/8. Hilda Campbell, 1832-l918, Had a mellow soprano voice and unusual skill
at the piano. She married Lieut.
(later General) Charles Brackenbury of the Royal Artillery, who died in 1893.
Their children were:
2/1. Herevard Brackembury. Married Winifred Browne,
daughter of Sir Benjamin Browne.
2/2. A daughter, who married ?
Dyer. Refer to Burke for further information.
called "Harriet". Though the dates of her birth
and death are unrecorded, they may be assumed to have been circa 1796-1870.
She married the Honorable William Sheppard, an eminent naturalist, who was also
believed to have been associated with his brother-in-law John Saxton Campbell
in a logging business. Lady Noble recalls that in her childhood (the l830's)
the Sheppards owned a beautiful place "Woodfield" just beyond "Spencerwood"
(the Lieut. Governor's residence) on St.Louis Road. It had a lovely garden
overlooking the river; and indoors was an aviary full of lively, well cared-for
birds. Our family chronicles do not give the names of any Sheppard children but
my cousin Myrtle has a note that there was a daughter, and George Mellis
Douglas mentions having received a letter in 1930 from a Maxfield Sheppard
asking for genealogical information about the Douglas family "with whom he
was connected through the Campbells". It appears therefore that the
Sheppard line did continue. It is interesting to note that the side road which
bordered "Woodfield" is still called "Sheppard Road" on
present day maps. Another of Lady Noble's recollections is that Harriet's
spinster Aunt Harriet Saxton lived with the Sheppards in her old age, -
probably after her sister Charlotte's death in l830. She was clever with her
hands and constructed a miniature farm scene with rivers, bridges, village and
livestock which stood in a hallway in a long glass case and fascinated the
children. Harriet Sheppard was herself a botanist and wrote a book on
Canadian birds, sharing her husband's interest in them.
called "Sophia", l800-1885, married in 1824
Jonathan Wurtele, Seigneur of Riviere David and an Officer in the Quebec
Cavalry in the War of 1812. His father, Josias Wurtele, came to Canada in 1782
from Stumpelbach, near Stuttgart, in Wurtemberg, Germany, where their ancestors
are recorded back to 1559. (It is interesting to note that from l781 to 1783
there was quartered near Quebec awaiting repatriation a surviving contingent of
German mercenaries - Brunswickians - who, under General Baron von Riedesel, had
fought for the British in the American Revolution and many of whom had been prisoners
of war from l779-1780 in Charlottesville Virginia, on Barracks Rd. The Baron
and Baroness were well-liked in Charlottesville and cordially entertained by
Thomas Jefferson and others. It must have been heartening to Josias Wurtele to
find so many compatriots in Quebec when he first arrived in l782.)
Louisa and Jonathan Wurtele had six sons and two daughters:-
1/1. Jonathan, a Judge. 1/2. Arthur, a Civil Engineer.
1/3. Edward. 1/4. Louis, a clergyman.
1/5. Vivian. 1/6. Louisa.
1/7. Harriet, 1/8. Charles, a lawyer.
Of this large family, we have further knowledge of only two, Jonathan and Louisa:-
1/1. Jonathan Saxton Campbell Wurtele, (1828-1903) Barrister and
Judge of the Court of Kings
Bench; Queen's Counsellor 1873, Professor of Commercial Law at McGill
University; created Officer of the Legion of Honor, France, 1882; Member and in
1888 Speaker of the Legislative Assembly. He married 1st, 1854, Julia Nelson,
daughter of Dr. Nelson, second cousin of the great Admiral Horatio. He married
2nd, in l876 Sarah Braniff of New York. Jonathan and Julia's son:
2/1. Ernest Wurtele (Later Lt.Col. Sir Ernest Wurtele, died in 1936.
He was always close to our
family and was one of the witnesses to my grandfather Archibald Campbell's
death certificate in l906. He was a contemporary of my father and his brothers
and as a boy visited them at "Thornhill".
(9/2003: from internet reply by Bill Longley, EW was an active stamp collector and was president of the Dominion Philatelic Association in Canada in 1901, and lived in Quebec
1/6. Louisa Wurtele, born 1838, died Jan.3l/1936 in her 99th year.
Married in 1861 James Rankine
(1825-1908) representative in Montreal of J.& P.Coats, the thread
manufacturers of Paisley Scotland. They had 8 children.
Louisa, who married John Fair; James;
Norman; Alan Coats;
Arthur Glen Ernest; and Isobel.
2/6. Alan Coates Rankin became a Colonel and
Assistant Director of Medical Services of the Canadian Army, residing in Ottawa.
2/7. Arthur Glen Ernest Rankin became a barrister and in 1941 had his office at
276 St. James St. Montreal. He and his brother Alan together inherited from their mother Louisa on her death in 1936 the Seigneurie of L'Islet du Portage at Pointe Seche previously owned by her Uncle John Saxton Campbell, as has already been told in his history.
This completes the histories of my great grandfather' 5 brothers and sisters and brings me now to our own line, starting with himself.
(1792-1872), my great grandfather, was the youngest of the
first Archibald Campbell's three sons. He was a Lieut. Colonel of the 99th Foot
and fought in the wars of 1812-1825. While a Young Lieutenant of 26 and
quartered in Montreal he met and on only a week's acquaintance married November
27/1818, Harriet Doxey (l799-1832), youngest daughter of an Irish Captain (also
a United Empire Loyalist) who happened to be travelling with his family to
Kingston, Ontario. (I, D.C.P., have seen the record of their marriage in the
Montreal Court House.) Shortly after their marriage. Charles' regiment was
ordered to the front and his mother Charlotte, widowed only four months
earlier, sent a friend to bring the young bride back to Quebec - an arduous 3
day journey - where she and Charles' two youngest sisters (Henrietta and
Louisa Sophia) took her to their hearts in "the Big House", - "Saxvilla".
Two years passed before the young couple saw each other again. Charles and
Harriet then acquired a house of their own; and his first son Archibald
(1823-1906) writing in the year 1900 says: "My boyhood was passed at
"Battlefield" within a stone's throw of the Plains of Abraham. I
gather that "Battlefield" was the name given to their house and that
it faced the scene of the historic battle between Wolfe and Montcalm.
Charles' wife Harriet died circa 1833 when only 34 years old, leaving him with five children. It seems likely that her younger sister Fanny Doxey (1808-1897) then came to look after the children; and she and Charles were married August 26/1839. More about the children later.
For his loyal services in the wars of 1812-1825, Charles was granted by the Crown a 500 acre tract of land on the twin lakes of William and George in Megantic Province, near the present village of St. Ferdinand where he built himself a comfortable yet picturesque home which he called "Bampcell" (transposing the "C" and "B" in Campbell). There he retired to on leaving the army, followed by many of his N.C.O.'s and men who settled around him, marrying French- Canadian girls, whose descendants are still there and, in spite of good Scots' names, now speak only French. Charles established a well- ordered farm on his property and apparently lived there the year round. One can only guess that this would been around 1845-1850. My Aunt Haddie, born 1854, tells how, as children, she, my father and the others used to love visiting their old grandfather at "Bampcell" romping in the garden glades and eagerly watching the farm activities. On rainy days, a well stocked library in his study was to them a treasure-trove.
(In 1941, when my husband and I visited our second cousin, Richard, then American Vice-Consul in Montreal, we detoured from our drive to Quebec to find our way cross-country to this delightful old homestead beside Lake William. An avenue of elms led from the road to a densely arbored garden set like an oasis in the wheat fields, in the heart of which a Swiss Chalet type of house looked down a steep-succession of well kept terraces to the lake a hundred feet below. We were made most welcome by a charming Irish family, the Dillons and their young couple, the Napier Smiths, who had bought the estate 15 years earlier from the last Campbell descendant Mrs. Williams, re-naming it "Roscommon Lodge". They were all having tea on the front veranda commanding a superb view over the lake, and insisted on our joining them, later taking us over the house to show its historic features, - delicate wrought-iron balustrades, hand-made bronze fittings to the doors, French windows in all rooms, etc. - all so reminiscent of my grandfather's day. We could hardly tear ourselves away; and an orange sun was setting behind a church-steeple as we drove off through lavender shadows on the road to Quebec.)
Charles ended his days at "Bampcell" in 1872 at the age of 80. It is told that on his deathbed he sent for his son Archibald and said "Well, Archie, here's. for the great leapt!" and passed away.
His second wife Fanny also died there 25 years later, in 1897.
Great grandfather Charles Campbell had six children: -
Sophia, Archibald, Charlotte, Henrietta, Charles William and Fanny.
The first five were definitely by his first wife, Harriet Doxey.
The last, Fanny, was most likely by his second wife, Fanny Doxey.
1/1. Sophia Campbell, Born 1821, died in Kilkenny, Ireland,
date unknown. She was considered
the most beautiful woman of her day in Canada. She married 1st E.D.S.Wilkins,
Esq. and had one daughter:
2/1. Harriet Sophia Wilkins who died in 1919.
Sophia married 2nd., Sir Charles
McMahon, K.C.B., Captain in the 10th Hussars, son of Rt.Hon. Sir William
McMahon, Bart., Irish Master of the Rolls. On retiring from the Army, Sir
Charles settled in Australia, became Speaker of the Legislative Assembly of
Victoria and died in 1891. The McMahon property is in Tyrone.
We have no record of whether Sophia and Sir Charles had children.
1/2. Archibald Campbell (l823-1906)
My grandfather, whose history follows next.
1/3. Charlotte, ("Chatty"), a spinster, about whom nothing is recorded.
1/4. Henrietta Campbell born 1829.
Married circa 1854 Rev. Glyn
Grylls, son of the Dean of Exeter Cathedral. They later lived in Bath,
England. They had one son:-
2/1. Saxton Grylls, born circa 1857.
There may have been other children but our records are skimpy.
My Campbell descent is as follows: Peter Engler
Ursula Jean Grylls Wilson (who lives in Llandrindod Wells)
Stephen Grylls Wilson
Henrietta Julia Grylls
Henrietta Campbell m 1853 Thomas Glynn Grylls
Charles Campbell m 1818 Harriet Doxey
Archibald Campbell m 1780 Charlotte Saxton
Charles had several children, one of whom was another Archibald Campbell, grandfather of Dorothy May Campbell. In her papers it mentions Harriet Campbell "Aunt Haddie". She was Archibald's daughter and wrote about her grandfather Charles in her book "Notes of a Nomad", which I have a copy of and which inspired me to find his house. The book also includes a picture of her and of her father Archibald. Charles had a brother also named Archibald, whose descendant Sir Andrew Noble wrote the book "An Account of the families of Noble of Ardmore and Noble of Ardkinglas and some related families" which I read in the SoG Library. It was his book that referred to the Poole papers and that gave a lot of information about Charles' father's family. This Archibald was very active in Quebec's Cultural scene and is mentioned in the Canadian Biographical Dictionary. I have a thumbnail picture of him from a Quebec museum web page. Charles also had a brother, John Saxton Campbell, also mentioned in the Canadian Biographical Dictionary. I have many business records of his. I have been researching the family for some time now and three years ago managed to track down Charles' house on lake William, in a town now called Bernierville. I have also got other information on him, he was a lieutenant in the British army and fought the Americans in the war of 1812. I followed up his military record and even have a portrait of him in uniform, an unwanted heirloom of a cousin. I have lots of notes and of course am going to put them all together one day! I do not know what information you would like but the above gives an idea of its scope. You mentioned that you met the son of Dorothy May Poole (nee Campbell). Are you or he aware of any other Campbell descendants who have information on or who are researching the family history.
Regards Peter Engler
1/5. Charles William Campbell, (1833-1926).
When about 18, he went out to
Australia, apparently in 1851 or at any rate a few months before his elder
brother Archibald. They met in Melbourne in 1853. Whatever his purpose he did
not remain there and returned to Canada. Family chronicles do not mention who
or when he married, but he had one daughter:-
2/1. Grace Campbell,
who married James Richardson: and I recall that they lived at Inverness which lies between "Bampcell" and Quebec.
1/6. Fanny Campbell the dates of whose birth and death are unknown.
Married H. Williams, Esq. born 1842, died 1911. Seeing that Charles' first wife Harriet, died in 1833, the year in which her son Charles William was born, Fanny would have had to be born around 1831 to have been Harriet's daughter. This would make her 11 years older than her husband who was born in 1842. It is much more likely that she was his contemporary and therefore the daughter of Charles' second wife Fanny Doxey, who was 31 when she married him in 1839. That she was christened "Fanny" supports this; even more so does the fact that Fanny Williams eventually inherited "Bampcell" on her mother's death there in 1897, though of course there could have been other circumstances connected with the inheritance.
Tue, 13 May 2008 From: "Laurie Damian"
Hello Antony – just came upon you site today after making some new discoveries about my ancestry in the last few days (I have been working on it for almost 2 years now) through ancestry.com. I came upon your site doing a search for Harriet Doxey, and found her on your page ‘Poole genealogical – Dorothy May Campbell HAP subject 2-B’. First I must say….WOW! What incredible research and interesting reading (why is history so much more fun to read about when it involves your family, wish I had realized that before I was in my 30’s!!). Anyway, I descend from Charles Campbell and Harriet Doxey. Some of the information included in your report contradicts other info I have seen and or aquired, which always concerns a nosy researcher! It answers some questions, yet poses new ones (ie…..according to your report my great great grandmother was never born!). Anyway, I was wondering if you would be able to correspond and lend me your obvious expertise in the family and possibly together we could clear up some mysteries. Only as time allows of course, and if I am being to bold in asking just let me know. I met another gentleman on line who has a little info on the family from my great grandmother on down, but he is admittedly very busy, and although I have feel I have proven my point though church records, thinks I may still be mistaken. If you would like to proceed, please let me know and I will send you the specifics of what I know/believe to be true. If not, I will continue to enjoy this marvellous information – I so love the narratives!
Stevenson, Washington USA
Archibald Campbell, my grand-father, was born at "Battlefield", Quebec, May 1823 and died April 27/1906 at his home in Quebec, "Thornhill". He was a barrister and Protho Notary of the Province of Quebec. His daughter Harriet describes him as "beautifully made, agile and athletic. I have seen him when in his fifties vault over a horse with the lightness of 16. Once, when a very young man, he rode up the wooden staircase from Quebec Lower Town to the Upper, on a wager. He was a strong swimmer noted for the many lives he had saved from drowning. Photographs taken in his later years portray him with a full, greying beard, handsome, dignified and impressive; but in his youth he was high-spirited and impetuous.
When only 24, he married in Quebec Nov.18/1847, Isabella Prior (c.1830 Dec.17/1887) who was descended on the one hand from Matthew Prior (l664-l721) English poet, dramatist and statesman, and on the other from distinguished Campbells of Breadalbane. This seems to be a good place to bring in my grandmother Isabella Prior's ancestry:
On her paternal side it originates with Matthew Prior (l664-l721) English poet, dramatist, Under Secretary of State (1699) and Ambassador to Paris (1718), an eminent descendant of Alfred the Great. His great grandson -
Matthew Prior, born circa 1770, married Isabella Campbell, born 1773, whose paternal ancestry began with -
Sir William Campbell, a descendant of the Earls of Breadalbane and Robert the Bruce. His son was: - James Campbell, of Carryshank, who married in 1732 Elizabeth Buchan and had two sons Mor, born 1733 and James, born 1741, both at Killin in Perthshire, Breadalbane country.
Mor Campbell of Carryshank, (l733-1782) and his brother James both served with the 42nd Highlanders, "The Black Watch", through the conquest of Canada and fought at Ticonderoga (Ft. Carillon) in 1758 and at the fall of Quebec 1759. (There seems to have been yet another brother, Capt. Duncan Campbell of the Black Watch, who was at the taking of Quebec, He is mentioned by grandfather Archibald as "my children's ancestor"). Mor married in 1753 Elisabeth Combs, and it was their daughter, Isabella Campbell, born 1773, who married Matthew Prior. Matthew and Isabella were married circa 1793 and had 8 children: James Matthew 1794, Joseph 1797, Thomas Prescott 1799, Richard Moses 1801, William Hill 1804, Elisabeth 1808 who married Holland, Katherine 1811 who married Denny, and Isabella 1816 who married Reaves.
Joseph Prior, born 1797 died before 1852 married Juliette Blanchard (died before 1852) daughter of Comte and Comtesse Blanchard who left France in 1798. They had 3 children:- Isabella (l830-1887) Benjamin (born c.1837, died ? ) Josephine (born c.1840 died 1904) who married Capt. Pryce Browne. Isabella Prior, born 1830, died December 17/l887, married in Quebec, November 18/1847, my grandfather Archibald Campbell (1823-1906) and her further history merges with his.
A treasured scroll detailing the Prior and Breadalbane Campbell pedigrees back to their illustrious forbears was entrusted to Isabella's sister Josephine, who handed it on to her daughter May Pryce Browne, on whose death it was heedlessly destroyed by her companion housekeeper when disposing of her papers.
While giving the ancestry of my grandmother, Isabelle Prior I might as well include several collateral branches of the Prior family with whom my cousin Myrtle and I, particularly she, have at various times had friendly contact through the years. I will begin with:-
My grandmother's younger brother and sister, Benjamin and Josephine Prior, were orphaned in their school years, probably some time between 1847 and 1852. We do not know who looked after them but my grandparents took both children along with them to Australia in 1852-1854. Ben was 15/17 at the time and I never heard what became of him later.
Josephine Prior, (c.1840-1904) - my father's beloved "Aunt Josie" married in 1866 Capt Pryce Browne, 17th Royal Fusillers, of Mellington Hall, Montgomeryshire. They had one son and three daughters:
Major William Herbert F. Pryce Browne of the Royal Marines, (My Cousin Bertie) born 1870. Was killed at Antwerp Oct.6, l914, while directing the fire of the guns of the Royal Marine Brigade from an exposed rampart. He never married, nor did his sisters:-
2. May Pryce Browne, born 1868.
3. Rosie Pryce Browne, born 1872. Was and Anglican missionary in Madagascar.
4. Heyland Pryce Browne, born 1874.
They were all very religious and sweet to my brother Archie and me during our school years in England, In fact, Heyland's influence had much to do with Archie's entering the Church. The three tiny sisters lived a great deal together and all died in the l850's in England.
Our family and the Fulfords share a common ancestor in
1/1. Matthew Prior, born c.1770, one of whose daughters:
2/1. Elizabeth Prior, born 1808, (my grandmother's aunt) married Charles Holland.
They had two sons, Charles and
Philip and one daughter:-
3/1. Mary Ann Holland (1835-1894), my grandmother's first cousin,
Francis Drummond Fulford, son of the Bishop of Montreal.
4/1. Francis Algernon Fulford ("Cousin Frank") l86l-1926, was a
contemporary of my Aunt Haddie and a close friend. Trained
as a civil engineer, he helped build the Canadian Pacific Railway, Frank
inherited the ancestral home of Fulford in Devonshire and married Constance
Drummond, grand-daughter of Lady Elizabeth Drummond, a sister of the Duke of
Rutland. They had three sons:-
5/1. Anthony, born 1989
5/2. Humphrey, born 1902.
5/3. John, born 1912.
My Aunt Haddie's husband, Capt. Sir Alfred Jephson who died
in September, 1900, is buried in the village church of Dunford, Devon where
Crusader ancestors of the Fulfords lie under stone effigies in the little
church. In 1922, when Chester and I were in England on home leave from Japan,
we and our son Anthony, 5 1/2 years old, were warmly invited to spend an
afternoon at Fulford. A long drive leads from the whitewashed, stoneroofed
cottages of the village the ancient manor house up a gentle rise, a square
Norman chateau without towers surrounded by a now dry moat, the only entrance
to which is by a central causeway and arch leading into a courtyard within the
unbroken four walls. Externally a tight little fortress, the courtyard with its
many doors and windows exudes the warm feeling of a home. Fulford goes back to
the days of William the Conqueror and is reputed to be the second oldest house
in England continuously lived in by the same family. Cousin Frank was most
hospitable and took us all through the old castle, pointing out how, during the
wars between the Cavaliers and Roundheads, Cromwell's soldiery had sadly
disfigured the fine carving in the private chapel, which he was gradually
restoring. One room was being stripped of the white plaster walls which had
apparently been applied to conceal and preserve from harm the iron-hard oak panelling
centuries old whose existence had long been unsuspected. One of the upper rooms
housed a fascinating collection of Napoleonic dolls two feet tall, exquisitely
portraying people of a variety of callings.
Tony was thrilled to the marrow by the legendary ghost and its alarming habits. Unfortunately the three Fulford boys were all away from home, and I have never met them.
Like the Fulfords, the Hollands are descended from my
grandmother's Aunt Elisabeth Prior, born l808, daughter of Matthew Prior 1770.
She married, Charles Holland, about whom we have no information. They had one daughter, Mary Ann who married Francis Drummond Fulford. They also had two sons:-
Charles and Philip Holland, born circa 1830/35, who lived in Montreal, and appear to have had 3 sons named:
Charles, Philip and William who were of my father's generation.
I know very little about them individually but the family had considerable means and my grandparents stayed with them in Montreal in 1872, and three members of the family came to Quebec for Aunt Haddie's wedding to Captain Jephson in 1873. I believe my cousin Myrtle knows considerably more about them through personal contact.
One other branch of my Grandmother Isabella Prior's family,
are descended from Matthew Prior's youngest daughter, my grandmother's Aunt Isabella Prior, born 1816, who married ---- Reaves. Their son, George Reaves,
who married Alma Crane. (I have a note that Alma was the daughter of Luther Crane of Boston but this may be inaccurate as Myrtle says that she was intensely Southern and declared that family fought for the South in the Civil War.)
Campbell Reaves, 1876-1940, married in 1901, Helen Beatrice MacDonald, born 1881.
Campbell Reaves, born 1903 married in 1924 Huntly Christie (1898-1946). (She married 2nd, 1960, Ashley Smith).
Huntley Christie and Francis had 2 daughters and 1 son:-
1. Frances Helen Christie, born 1924.
2. Nadine Christie, born 1926, who married Robert Cranfield and has two daughters:
1. "Bobbie" born 1950.
2. "Betty" born 1951.
3. Huntley Campbell Reaves Christie, born circa 1928, married Patricia Garlick.
See Email from Bobbie Middlemiss below
(I. D.C.P., have never met the Reaves or Christies but Cousin Myrtle, who was born the same year as Frances Reaves (1903) always stays with them when visiting Canada, and vice versa.)
I now resume the narrative of my grandfather Archibald Campbell and his wife Isabella Prior, interrupted at page 12.
Archibald Campbell (1823-1906), was a man of astonishing vigor and adventurous spirit. When 29, - lured, perhaps, by tales of the gold rush, he decided to try his luck in Australia, and taking with him his young wife, their 3 year old daughter Georgina, his wife's young brother Ben and even younger sister Josephine, still a mere child, embarked in September 1852 on a completely appalling voyage around the Cape of Good Hope. After many dreadful experiences including terrible storms, shortage of food, and the death of several fellow-passengers, they eventually reached Melbourne in April of the next year. There, dismayed by conditions, grand-father gratefully accepted the offer of an appointment as Magistrate and Judge for a mining camp called "The Ovens" at Beechwood, a town of 7/10,000 souls 150 miles North of Melbourne. The discomforts and miseries they experienced were beyond description and the health of grandmother and little Georgie broke down. In 1854 they returned to Quebec sailing round Cape Horn and stopping off in England, - all of which is told in my grandmother's book "Rough and Smooth" published in 1865. Three days after they safely reached Quebec, their second daughter Harriet - my "Aunt Haddie" was born.
That his Australian experiences had done nothing to tame grandfather's impetuous spirit is shown by an episode soon afterwards. The thoughtless Captain of a Canadian excursion steamer, to flatter his American passengers, hoisted the stars and stripes above the Union Jack on the masthead. My indignant grandfather, then 32, sprang aboard from the wharf, demanded that the Captain rectify his breach of maritime tradition, and on his refusal, swarmed up the mast tore down the offending emblem, leapt with it into the river and swam back to the fast receding shore. His exploit was acclaimed in verse in the Quebec newspapers of the day; and a copy is pasted in the fly-leaf of grandfather's book "Rough and Smooth". The incident reveals how intensely allegiance to Britain lived on in the hearts of these United Empire Loyalists.
In the half dozen years following their return from Australia they had another daughter Agnes and two sons, Colin and William Wallace (my father). About 1861 he bought a new home, "Thornhill", where their last son Kenneth was born in 1863. In this well remembered and beloved spot all their children grew up. The house stood well back on a steeply rising wooded hillside almost directly across the way from the entrance to "Spencerwood", the Lieut. Governor's Residence on St.Louis Road (the Grande Alee), about two miles out from Quebec. It was of grey stone, rather long and low, with a steep-pitched red-tile roof broken by dormer windows. A wide veranda ran across the front whence a flight of stone steps descended to the gravel sweep before the house. The driveway ran steeply up from a stone-pillared gate through tall trees over an undulating slope to the front steps; while at either side were lawns and flower gardens leading on to stables and fields stretching still upwards in the background. I well remember as a child of six the first sight I had of my grandfather, then 78, strolling down from the barns, behind him a loaded hay-wain drawn by two immense cart- horses. When, with my husband, I revisited "Thornhill" forty years later, I found the house much enlarged, with a portico over the driveway and an additional airy room at the back; while the brook which used to course enticingly through the lower front garden had vanished below well-tended turf. "Thornhill" passed out of our family on Grandfather's death in 1906 and in 1911 was purchased by my father's boyhood friend C. E. Alan Boswell, son of the old family doctor. About 1924 he sold it to the Frank W. Clarkes who were still there in 1941 and made us welcome. On that same occasion my husband and I had tea with Mr Boswell who, though convalescing from 'flu', insisted on coming down to meet his playmate's daughter and revelled in recounting most amusing anecdotes of his and father's escapades at "Thornhill". According to him, father was the inspired leader of their group in all sorts of adventures and they all worshipped him. It has always been a great regret to me that I could not induce my restive husband to stay over yet another day in Quebec - I admit that the temperature was 96, to meet Madame Jolie de Lotbiniere who was born Lucy Darling Campbell, a great grand-daughter of the first Archibald Campbell. She was 80 at the time and could have recalled much of interest about our early forbears. The Lotbinieres are still a prominent old family in Quebec.
Archibald and Isabella had seven children:-
1/1. Georgina Louisa (c.1849-1880).
1/2. Archibald Saxton Campbell. Died in infancy. Probably was born and died in 1851.
1/3. Henrietta Julia Campbell, called Harriet. (1854-1930).
Married Capt. Sir Alfred Jephson. No children.
1/4. Agnes Josephine Katherine Campbell, (1855-1919).
Married Ernest Hamel.
1/5. Colin Frederick Wurtele Campbell. (1858-1919).
1/6. William Wallace Campbell, (1860-1938), my father.
1/7. Kenneth Rankin Campbell, (1863-1931).
There is very little in the way of records to draw upon in telling of the lives of my father's brothers and sisters excepting Harriet and Kenneth. I will speak of my father last.
1/1. Georgina Louisa Campbell, c.1849-1880), was only three years old when taken her
parents to Australia in 1852. Her health suffered from the hardships they underwent and she remained frail. In fact I have always believed that she died when quite a young girl, but it now appears that lived to be 31. She never married.
1/2. Archibald Saxton Campbell, is never even mentioned by his mother in her
Book "Rough & Smooth", although he must have been born before she and Archibald set sail for Australia. We know that he died in infancy and must conclude that he he was born and died in 1851.
1/4. Agnes Josephine Campbell, (1855-1919) married about 1877, Ernest Hamel,
a French Canadian. Their three children, St John Hamel, Ernestine Hamel and Jephson Hamel, all died in early childhood. When I was six years old, I met Aunt Agnes but all I can recall is that she was very pretty though frail and greatly saddened by the loss of her children.
1/5. Colin Frederick Wurtele Campbell, (l858-l9l9)
According to his elder sister
Harriet, he was a very handsome boy, a fine swimmer and keen fisherman. My only
memory of him at the time I was six is that he took us in an Indian canoe out
on a lake whose waters were so clear that I could see right to the bottom. I
have no idea what his occupation was but as a boy of fifteen he worked in his
Uncle Holland's Insurance office in Montreal, - probably just for a brief
experience. He married Minotte Chinic and they had one daughter, Marie
Elisabeth Cecilie Campbell, a very sweet girl, who died at the age of 14 in
l914. Her mother followed 2 years later, and Colin 3 years after that.
In explanation of my scant knowledge of these Canadian Aunts and Uncles, it must be remembered that my parents lived continuously in the Far East from 1892, when they were married, until 1938 when they came to us in America. When I was not with them I was at school in England and Germany. Living on opposite sides of the world it was inevitable that we should know less and less about our relatives as time went on; and what information I have been able to gather together is almost folk-lore except for what my Aunt Myrtle knows. My Aunt Harriet, Lady Jephson and Uncle Kenneth lived in England and they, of course, are realities to me. Their histories come next.
1/3. Henrietta Campbell, called Harriett (1854-1930) My "Aunt Haddie".
Was both beautiful and
accomplished. One day, when about fifteen, having ridden her horse down the
long driveway of "Thornhill" to the gate, she there encountered a
Naval Lieutenant who gallantly offered to open the forbidden portal. A few
years later, Captain Alfred Jephson (1841-1900) returned to woo the little girl
he had fallen in love with and they were married in 1873, she being yet only 19
and he 32. He had seen service in the Crimea, India, China and Japan, and was
wounded twice in the naval bombardment of the Japanese batteries at Kagoshima.
Though they were never blessed with children, it proved a most happy marriage
and they lived interestingly in England and many other countries, Aunt Haddie
being a talented artist, authoress and brilliant hostess. Early in the 1890's
Alfred was knighted for his prominent part in organising the Royal Naval
Exhibition of 1891. Sir Alfred took part in the Benin River Expedition in
Nigeria and received the Benin River Medal. Harriet's brother Kenneth Campbell
who participated in that action, was awarded the D.S.O. Capt. Sir Alfred
Jephson died in September 1900 and was buried in the cemetery of the old church
in Dunsford village, Devonshire, where for centuries the Fulfords of Fulford,
Aunt Haddie's cousins, have been laid to rest.
When left a widow at 46, Aunt Haddie was still a beautiful and arresting woman. As Lady Jephson, her accomplishments and engaging wit had attracted a distinguished circle of friends, among them on occasion Edward, Prince of Wales who had worked closely with Captain Jephson over his pet project the Naval Exhibition and was much attached to him. He never failed to send Aunt Haddie a brace of pheasant from his big shoots. I still treasure copies of four of her books, "A Canadian Scrap-book", 1897; "Letters to a Debutante", 1908; "A Wartime Journal", 1915; and "Notes of a Nomad" 1918, the latter beautifully illustrated by her own water colors. For many years she was on the Committee of the Royal Water-color Society and her paintings were masterly.
Aunt Haddie was unfailingly good to my brother Archie and me during our school days in England, our parents being out in Japan. In 1922 when my husband, our three small boys and I were in the New Forest on home leave, Aunt Haddie came down from London to stay beside us at the village "Bell Inn". I have always been glad that she and Chester had this opportunity of meeting for they greatly liked one another at once and with a mutual interest in painting, got along famously. He still recalls how movingly she recited poetry to us one evening by firelight. Eight years later she died in England, sadly alone.
1/7. Kenneth Rankin Campbell l863-l93l, the youngest son of my
grandfather Archibald (1823-1906)
was educated at the Royal Military College, Kingston, Ontario. and fearing he
might not receive one of the few nominations for a commission in the British
Army, ran away from home and signed on before the mast in a sailing ship. The
family did not know his whereabouts till he wrote them from England. There, in
1883, he joined the colors as a private in the Gloucestershire Regiment, was
promoted to sergeant and obtained his commission in the The Dragoon Guards in
1886. After serving for some years with the The Dragoon Guards (Carabineers),
he went to Africa in 1890 as Adjutant of the Gold Coast (Hausa) Forces. From
l89l-1895, he served as Vice Consul and Deputy Commissioner on the Oil Rivers
Protectorate and adjoining native territories, under the Consul General and High
Commissioner of the Niger Coast Protectorate Sir Claude Macdonald (who later
was appointed Minister to Peking and Ambassador to Tokyo). He had a spell
during 1893 as Acting Consul General and High Commissioner, and took an active
part in the operations against Chief Nana in the Benin River Expedition, during
which he was three times mentioned in dispatches and received the D.S.O.; also
the Africa Medal and Benin River Clasp. He was also awarded the bronze medal
of the Royal Humane Society for saving one of the Consular natives from
drowning in a river swarming with crocodiles.
In 1900 he was attached to the Naval Brigade in the Relief of Peking during the Boxer Rebellion and was a member of General Gaselee's Staff. His former chief Sir Claude Macdonald was British Minister to Peking at the time, beleagered in the Legation Quarter with the small body of diplomats, residents, missionaries and legation guards of all nationalities. Their relief by the International Column from Tientsin, after weeks of siege, came only just in time.
In 1910, Kenneth went back to Canada and raised the 26th Canadian Horse, the Stanstead Dragoons of which he was appointed Lieutenant Colonel. Not long after that, he retired from active service; but on the outbreak of World War 1 in 1914, tried to rejoin only to be turned down because of his age - 51. Being a keen yachtsman and member of the Royal Yacht Squadron and possessing a Master's Certificate, he forthwith volunteered his services to the Admiralty who gratefully appointed him Lieut.Commander R.N. in the Yacht Patrol engaged in mine- sweeping in the North Sea and Skagerrak. In 1915 he was sent to Gallipoli as a Commander with the Mediterranean Squadron. In l917-l9, he served again with the Army in France and Italy, being twice mentioned in dispatches.
After the War, he became for a while Seneschal of Sark in the Channel Islands, finally retiring with his wife and daughter Myrtle to "Brickendon Grange", a ninety-acre estate in Hertfordshire where he died in 1931.
Kenneth married in l900 Edith Anne Bannon, born 1880, died 1930 at Brickendon Grange, eldest daughter of Thomas Riley Bannon and his wife Helen. In 1901, Kenneth and his bride visited his aging father at "Thornhill" at the same time as my father, mother Archie and I were staying with them, home from the Far East. Writing home to her mother, Edith said: "It was very exciting for me. The father is delightful and so kind to me, taking me all round and showing me everything; and though he is really an old man, is full of fun and jokes." She wrote sweetly, too, of Mother and Father.
Kenneth Jeffrey Rankin Campbell and his wife Edith Anne Bannon, had only one child:-
2/1. Helen Myrtle Campbell, born 1903 in London, married Nov. 1923 in
St. Columba's Church of Scotland
Robert Evelyn Herbert Fender A.F.C., born May 22/1900 in London son of Percy
Robert Fender of Coldstream Berwickshire (died 1943) and Lily, daughter of
Joseph Herbert of Sussex. Robert, called Robin, was educated at St.Paul's
School, London, and served in World War 1 from l9l7-l9l9 in Experimental
Squadron Royal Aircraft Establishment, Farnboro. When the war ended he
returned to London and became an Underwriting Member of Lloyd's. At the start
of World War 11, he joined the R.A.F. in l940, served in Norway 1940 and with
the Airborne Forces 1941-45. Later he was with the 501 (County of Gloucester)
After her parents' death, Myrtle and Robin carried on at Brickendon Grange, where her children were born but after World War II sold the place and moved to Gloucestershire where they lived for a number of years at Withington House, Withington and more recently at The Manor House. Riding to hounds has always been their favorite pursuit, varied by skiing in Switzerland; while Robin has also engaged in the more hazardous sport of gliding, especially in Spain where one can ride the air currents for hours on end. They have traveled extensively, including several trips to Canada where Myrtle has kept contact with her Campbell relatives. In 1936, Chester and I spent several days with them at Brickendon Grange; and in 1963 they returned the compliment by visiting us at Missing Acres in Virginia. These have been the only two occasions on which Myrtle and I have seen each other in the last fifty years and we greatly enjoyed renewing our ties.
Myrtle and Robin Fender have had three children:-
3/1. Robert Colin Campbell Fender, born 1934 at Brickendon;
died in 1936 through a tragic mishap.
3/2. Fiona Fender, born January l938 in London.
In the Fall of 1958, as a
fascinating girl of 20- she spent a fortnight with us at "Missing
Acres", making many friends. Returning to England, she married June 20,
1959 in St.Mary's Church, Bryanston Square, London, Capt. Henry Malcolm Chitty
Havergal, Coldstream Guards, born May, 1934, son of Dr. Henry Havergal and his
wife Hyacinth Chitty. They now have two children:
4/1. Henry Arthur Robert Havergal, born April 14, 1960, in Glasgow,
4/2. Anne Louise Havergal, born Oct.16. 1963, in London.
3/3. Anne Louise Fender, born October, 1939 at Hertford,
who lives at present (1964) in
London and is a Director of the O'Hana Art Gallery.
She is engaged to be married on June 26/1964 to Peter Thorold, born 1930, son of Sir Guy Thorold, who for some time was economic adviser to the British Embassy in Washington and who has a lovely place at Stanton in North Gloucestershire. Peter is an Underwriting Member of Lloyds and is Liberal Candidate for Huntingdonshire.
1/6. William Wallace Campbell, my father, (1860-1938), sixth child of
Archibald and Isabella Prior
Campbell, was born in Quebec August 22, 1860, and after a happy boyhood at
"Thornhill" was sent to school in England at Malvern College,
Worcestershire, England, where he won all the top prizes as a gymnast. Returning
to Quebec, he impulsively enlisted as a trooper on the Queens Own Canadian
Hussars but was bought out by my irate grand-father and packed off to a family
friends in San Francisco. There he entered the English Insurance firm of
Faulkner Bell & Co., and when they fell into difficulties, joined the
Pioneer American Steamship Company, the Pacific Mail, by whom he was sent out
in 1888 or 1889, to their Yokohama office under Alec Center, the Agent.
"Willy-Wally" as father was affectionately known to all his friends, was short but very strong, a fine swimmer and acrobatic diver; also, thanks to his Hussar training, a daring horseman. His most engaging attribute, however was an irrepressible merry disposition: and he was soon one of the most popular bachelors of Yokohama. Above all else, his favorite sport was sailing, and he used to declare "A minute ashore is a minute wasted." He designed his own and other small yachts such as the "Sayonara", "Mandesuka", "Sodesuka" and "Naruhodo". With two or three kindred spirits he started the Mosquito Yacht Club of Yokohama, whose members sailed every Sunday seven miles down the Bay to Tomioka, a pretty cove where they were granted the use of a small temple and the connected priest's dwelling as a Club House. Some years later, he owned a beautiful large yacht, the "Daimyo", his pride and joy; in fact she became almost a part of himself. His venturesome cruises in her are legendary and so widely was he known as an intrepid sailor that in whatever port he was stationed, he was inevitably elected Commodore of the Sailing Club. Up and down the China Coast, he was known as "The Commodore" and with his bright pink face and blue eyes he looked every inch a sailor.
Among the many charming girls, daughters of early foreign residents, whom he met on first arriving at Yokohama, was merry little "Calla" Rice, his feminine counterpart, tiny but full of zest, a crack tennis player and gifted with a lovely, clear soprano voice. Her grandfather, Col. Elisha E. Rice, had been the first American Consul appointed to Japan when it was opened to foreign trade in 1857, and was stationed at the Northernmost of the four treaty ports, Hakodate in Yezo. Col.Rice's son George Edwin Rice, with his young bride, joined his staff in Hakodate in 1868, where first twin daughters Mabel and Lily were born Dec.2l/1868 and three years later, "Calla" (Clara Edwina Rice) on Sept.21/1871. Six years later George brought his whole family down to Yokohama where the girls grew up in the singularly happy social atmosphere of these days. My husband, Chester as a Yokohama boy knew both Calla and Willy-Wally well, watched them fall in love and shared the general rejoicing when they were married on November 30/1892.
They lived first in a bungalow at No.7 Bluff, where I, Dorothy May Campbell, was born May 18/1895, followed by my brother Archibald Kenneth Campbell, on Oct.2/1986.
Soon afterwards, father transferred to the Pacific Mail Hongkong Agency, where we lived across the bay at Kowloon, sometimes summering in the Portuguese colony of Macao, down the Coast a short distance.
In 1900, father was transferred back to Yokohama, and a year later took us all home to Quebec on leave, his father Archibald, then 78, being still at "Thornhill". His mother Isabella had died in 1887, just before he went out to Japan. It so happened that father's younger brother Kenneth, together with his bride of a year. Edith Anne Bannon, also visited "Thornhill" during our stay there and in a letter written Aug.18/1901, to her mother in England, Edith says:- "Thornhill" is a pretty, rambling old place and the father a dear. He is very fond of dogs and has some devoted old collies and a fox-terrier who never let him out of his sight. We were awfully pleased to find that Kenneth's brother and his wife had just arrived from China. You remember hearing Calla sing in Hongkong. She is such a nice little woman, though the journey had been rather much for her and she was not very well. Willy Wally is just as nice as everyone in the Far East said he was; in fact our only disappointment was that we could not stay with them all a little longer.
After our stay in Quebec, we visited mother's cousins, the James Burns Wallaces of Canaan New Hampshire at their big, fertile farm beside a lake called Hart's Pond, being warmly welcomed.
At the end of father's leave, he was posted to Kobe, where we lived until Archie and I were taken to England in 1907 and put to school in Guernsey, our parents returned to Kobe. In 1912 was appointed General Agent of the Pacific Mail in Japan and went back to Yokohama to occupy the Company's large residence at No.4 Bund, facing the beautiful bay. Here they were living when I returned from school in 1913 but later that Summer we moved up to No.1 Bluff, most of Yokohama's residents having by this time forsaken the early settlement for the more picturesque Bluff. No 1 was a wide-spread, gracious, wine-colored old house with breezy verandas and a landscaped garden; and we were still there when Chester and I were married on June 21/1916. Archie had remained in England and was studying to enter the church, rather against father's wishes, but he was resolved.
Presently father and mother moved again to No.37 Bluff, close to the Bluff Gardens and Tennis Courts where they were living when the Great Earthquake of 1923 destroyed Yokohama. This terrible event has already been described. All of us survived and were evacuated to Kobe and Shanghai, my parents returning after a few months to Yokohama, living in simple, temporary houses amid the ruins, while things gradually took shape again. In l925, the U.S. Government owned ships operated by the Pacific Mail since the war, were sold off to the highest bidder, Robert Dollar, and the Pacific Mail, unpreparedly left without ships, decided to cease operations and disband its staff. Thus, after 38 years of loyal service and in his 66th year, father had to start life afresh, setting himself up in Kobe as an Exporter. In this, thanks to his popularity and grit, he was modestly successful through the next ten years; but early in 1938 failing health compelled him to retire. In May, 1938, he and mother said goodbye for the last time to Japan and came to join Chester and me in Summit, New Jersey, where we were living. Sadly, however, when father stepped off the plane, it was apparent that he was a very sick man indeed. Archie flew over from Scotland for the month of July, but thereafter father failed rapidly and died September 21/1938. His body was cremated next day during one of the fiercest hurricanes the Atlantic Seaboard has ever known, inflicting colossal damage along the shore and up through New England to Canada. I can think of no more fitting end for "The Old Sea King" as he was often called, than to cross the Styx in such a dramatic storm.
We sent father's ashes to Archie, then Rector of Trinity Church in Dunoon, Scotland, who consigned them to the waters of the Clyde from his small yacht off the shores of Argyll whence the first Campbell ancestor sailed two centuries ago.
A few months later, mother went on to England to join her sisters in London; but as the war grew in intensity, we prevailed on her to return in 1940. She then lived with us for the rest of her days, eventually dying in Ivy, Virginia, September 26/l959, at the age of 88.
This brings to an end my narrative of The Campbells of Quebec, and it remains only to record father and mother's descendents, who are: 1. Dorothy May Campbell, born at Yokohama, Japan, May 18/1895. Married June 21/1916 Otis Manchester Poole, born Chicago, Ills. Sept.6/1880, son of Otis Augustus Poole and Eleanor Isabella Armstrong. Chester was a typical Far Easterner, brought up in Japan and, though an American, in charge of one of the oldest British merchant hongs in Yokohama, Dodwell & Co.Ld. We had three children: -
1. Anthony Campbell Poole, born March 29/1917, at Yokohama, Japan; died April l8/l944 at Lima Peru. Married Dec.19/1943 in La Pas, Bolivia, Luba Arlyustin Gustus, born March 30/1916 in Khabarovsk, Siberia. They had no children.
2. Richard Armstrong Poole born April 29/1919, in Yokohama; Married November 2/1957 in Ivy, Virginia, Jillian Hanbury, born Aug.11/1930 in London, England, daughter of Anthony Henry Robert Culling Hanbury and Una Rawnsley. They have two children:
1/1. Anthony Hanbury Poole, born
Feb.6/1961, in Washington, DC.
1/2. Colin Rawnsley Poole, born Jan.14/1964, in Washington, DC.
3. David Manchester Poole, born July 4/1920, in Yokohama, Japan;
Married June 23/1950, in Woonsocket, Rhode Island, Sally Cooper Jarret, born June 11/1932, at Providence, R.I., daughter of Hugo Aram Jarret and Isobel Rolfe White.
They have 2 children: -
1/1. Jeffery Campbell Poole, born
June 11/1952 in Huntington, Long Island, NY.
1/2. Christopher Jarret Poole, born Nov.11/1954, in Huntington.
2. Archibald Kenneth Campbell, born Oct.2/1896 in Yokohama, Japan. Who entered the Church and has passed his life in Scotland. His history is given in full elsewhere. In 1931 he married in Fort Rose, Scotland Jean Douglass, born 1901 in Bombay, India, daughter of Robert Douglass and Jane Constance Haldane. Jean died April 24/1959 and is buried at Holy Trinity Church, Dunoon of which Archie had been the Rector for many years. They had no children.
Since Archie is the last surviving descendant of the original Archibald Campbell to bear the family name, it is sad to realise that it will end with him.
Transcribed from work by Dorothy (Campbell) Poole:
Dorothy Campbell Poole's maternal ancestry:
Dorothy's mother, Clara Edwina Rice, always called "Calla" was of New England ancestry, her forebears being among the very earliest settlers in America.
Edmund Rice (1594-1663) came to America from Berkhamsted, Hertfordshire, in 1638/9 during the reign of Charles I and only eighteen years after the "Mayflower" Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock. The name Rice being of Welsh origin (Rhys), the family may have originated in Wales. Edmund was accompanied by his wife, Thomasina and seven children and they settled near Sudbury, Mass. He shared in three divisions of lend and lived at the plantation lying near unto Concord (Sudbury} and dwelt on the East side of the Sudbury River in the Southern part of what is now called Weyland. His house stood beside a clear spring which still existed in 1850 and had become the annual Mecca of the Rice clan. His wife, Thmomasina having died in 1654, he married a second time in 1655 a widow, Mercy Brigham, but they had no children. In 1660 Edmund and thirteen others petitioned and were authorised to form a new plantation 8 miles West of Sudbury which they called Marlboro: and Edmund removed there to a lot of 50 acres on which he built his house. It stood in the Westerly part of the town on the old country road to Northboro and in the bend round the North side of the pond, a short distance above the
Old Williams Tavern. Here Edmund died May 3/1663 and was buried at Sudbury. A few years later the settlement at Marlboro was attacked and destroyed by the Indians, but was restored subsequently.
Henry Rice (1617-1710/11) was born in England and came with his father to America at the age of 21/22. Four years later, he married in Sudbury February 1/1643, Elizabeth Moore. Apparently they went back to England soon afterwards and remained there for 17 years during which their first seven children were born between 1646 and 1664. At the time of his father's death they returned to America where three more daughters were born between 1664 and 1670. Presently, very likely when the Indians destroyed Marlboro) they transferred to Framlingham, 5 miles South of Wayland where Henry died Feb.10/1710-11. His wife Elizabeth had predeceased him in 1705.
Jonathan Rice, the eldest of Henry's only two sons, was born in England and came back to America with his father as a boy of 10. when only 20, he married Martha Eames on March 21/1674-5 but she died a year later in childbirth. He next married Nov.1/1677 Rebecca Watson of Cambridge, Mass, who bore him 2 sons and 3 daughters, all of whom reached maturity and married. Rebecca died in Sudbury in 1689. Jonathan then married for the third time, Feb.12/1690-1, Elizabeth Wheeler and removed to Framilngham after 1705. She bore him 5 sons and 3 daughters between 1694 and 1713, all of whom, with one exception, grew up and married. Jonathan died at Framlingham April 12 1725, in his 75th year.
Ezekiel Rice, Jonathan's third son, by his third wife, was born October 14/1700 and married January 23/1722-3, Hannah Whitney who within the next 15 years bore him 7 sons and 2 daughters. After her death, no date given, Ezekiel married three times more, in 1753, 1769 and 1772, but had no other children. The date of his death is not recorded.
Richard Rice (1730-1793), fifth son of Ezekiel, was born October 20/1730 and married January 16/1755 Sarah Drury, born December 5/1734. He died at Natick, close to Framlingham, June 24 1793, aged 62, and after his death she removed to Union, Maine, 30 miles East of Augusta, where she died March 28/1821, aged 86. They had one daughter, Martha, and a son James.
James Rice (1758-1829) was born June 24/1758 and married June 1/1780 Sarah Perry of Natick, born October 25/1760, and moved to Union, Maine about 1806, probably to link up with his mother, than 72. He died there April 23/1829, aged 70. His wife died before him in 1823. Like his father, he had 1 daughter and 1 son, Sarah and Nathan.
Nathan D. Rice (1784-?) was born August 29/1784, presumably at Natick, Mass, and married February 10/1806 Deborah Bannister, born June 9/1786, daughter of Major Barxillai Bannister (born 1750) and Deborah Cushman Bannister of Framlingham. Probably accompanying his father in 1806, Nathan and his young wife removed to Union, Maine, where after a hard struggle in a new and cold country, he became one of the most substantial farmers in that section of the state. His wife Deborah died November 1/1843 and Nathan married again, May 5/1851 a widow Abby M. Emery from Augusta, Maine. He was then 67 and they had no children. The date of his death is not recorded. His first wife Deborah had born him 7 sons and 4 daughters, between 1806-1828:- Harriet, Albert F., Richard D., Nathan F., James B., Sarah, Cyrus C., Elisha E., Lyman L., Eveline and Ann, all of whom attained maturity and nearly all married.
Elisha E. Rice (1820-1885), 6th son of Nathan D.Rice, was born May 7/1820 at Union, Maine, and "resided for some time at Hallowell, Maine", adjoining Augusta. He probably moved there around 1840 as on June 2/1842, when only 22, he married Almira W. Sampson, born March 28/1814, of Winthrop, Maine, 10 miles West of Augusta. She died February 12/1887, in New York. Their children were:- George Edwin Rice, b.Aug.26/1843, d.March 17/1901 at Nagasaki, Japan. Nathan E. Rice, b. April 27/1847, d. May 14/1900 at San Francisco. Annie Rice, b.July 4/1852; d. Jan.11/1884 in Washington, D.C.
The U.S.Census of 1850 for Kennebec County enumerates all but Annie as residents of Hallowell in 1850.
Elisha was a determined character. He studied law and became a qualified barrister but never married. He was also a Colonel, presumably of the Militia, and a Deputy Sheriff, as well as a successful manufacturers of woolen carpets. An old book about Hallowell contains an account of a Fourth of July celebration in which "Colonel Elisha E. Rice was host at his big estate on his wide and well kept lawns." An informative summary of his life is given in an obituary in a Washington newspaper recording his death in that city on January 11/1885.
"Col. Elisha Rice died yesterday at his residence, No 941 K Street, of heart disease, in the 65th year of his age. His funeral will take place tomorrow afternoon at 2 o'clock. Col. Rice was born May 7th, 1820, at Union Maine. He carried on the business of manufacturing until the year 1856, when he was appointed Consul at Hakodate, Japan, by President Pierce and was reappointed under the administrations of Presidents Buchanan, Lincoln, Johnson and Grant.
Mr. Townsend Harris of New York was sent to Japan to conclude a treaty with that country and Col.Rice followed him as the representative of the United Staten Government and was the first foreign official, barring Mr.Harris, accredited to Japan. He studied law and was admitted to the bar in his native state in 1845, but never practised his profession. Col.Rice was in former years a member of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows and was a Mason at his death. He was a brother of the late Judge Rice of the Supreme Court of Maine for more than sixteen years and who held the position of President of the Maine Central Railroad and Vice President at the Northern Pacific Railway. Col.Rice was a man of of commanding presence, being more than 6ft. in height and well proportioned to his height. He was well-known in Maine, California and here, having resided in this city for eleven years. He leaves a widow and two sons. The elder is at present Vice Consul General of the United States at Japan, and the second son is a practising physician in Illinois."
His wife Almira outlived him by two years and it was probably she who furnished the authentic information for this obituary. Their only daughter Annie had died in Washington a year before her father, in her 32nd year, unmarried. She, too, was a physician.
Turning back to Col.Rice's appointment as Consul at Hakodate, Japan had been closed to foreign intercourse for two hundred years. Commodore Perry sailed into Tokyo Bay July 8/1853, made certain demands of the Shogun and withdrew, returning with seven warships in March 1854, and on March 31st concluded the Treaty of Kanagawa, which opened the ports of Shimoda (at the tip of the Idzu Peninsula) and Hakodate (in the Northern Island of Yezo, later called Hokkaido) to United States trade. The Treaty was promulgated June 1855, and in August 1855 Townsend Harris was appointed Consul General to Japan. He landed at Shimoda some months later but was held up there on one pretext or another for a couple of years before being allowed to proceed to Tokyo where he arrived in June 1859. Col.Rice was similarly appointed Consul to Hakodate and appears to have proceeded there in 1856, meeting with no such obstacles as confronted Townsend Harris. Baron Takahashi Masuda, recounting his memoirs in 1931, said: "At the age of ten, in 1857, I went with my grandmother to Hakodate for my education. While there, I remember seeing the first American Consul whose name was E.E.Rice. He was a very tall gentleman." The Baron's family returned to Tokyo in 1860 where he became a young attendant at Zempukuji Temple wherein Townsend Harris had been permitted to establish the first American Legation in June, 1859.
The Rice family papers do not show when Elisha left Hallowell or whether any of the family accompanied him to Japan his first trip; but considering the age of his children and the unknown character of the country he was bound for, it is likely that he went alone. Moreover, a leaf from his son George's pocket diary reads:- March 8/1861, Mother met Father in New York on his return from Japan. Plainly, she had not been with him. A book published in 1858 about the Rice clan records that Elisha "resided some time at Hallowell, Maine and removed to Roxbury, Mass." (Roxbury was in Suffolk, now absorbed into Boston.) It seems likely, therefore, that on leaving for Japan in 1856 he gave up his manufacturing business in Hallowell and transferred the family to Roxbury for the period of his first term in Hakodate, 1856-1861, either for the sake of better educational facilities or to enjoy a less rigorous climate than that of Maine.
A family group photograph, taken, apparently, in 1861, "before going to Japan" shows Elisha to have been an impressive man with a thick head of hair and a full beard and moustache, either very fair or grey, tough he was only 41. In later photographs, his beard is divided and white. His two boys, 18 and 14, were also well setup for their age.
Another entry in George Rice's diary, penned in San Francisco, reads: "A.W.R (Almira), E.E.R. (Elisha), and N.E.R. (Nathan) sailed for Japan in the good ship "Ringleader" on 15th March 1862. March 27, arrived in Honolulu and were received by the King and Queen, &c.&c. March 29, sailed from Honolulu April 20, arrived Yokohama. A separate entry on March 15 reads: "The ship sailed at one o'clock this morning. Bid the folks good-bye and then got on board the tug-boat. A beautiful night. We towed them eleven miles to sea. The Golden Gate a splendid place. Got back to shore at 3.A.M." Obviously George was left behind in San Francisco at 18 1/2. His diary for March 19th says: "Today closes the fourth month I have been engaged in business. Like it better every day." Other notes show he went riding and visiting friends, but missed the family. From all the foregoing, it seems that between Elisha's return to New York from Japan in March 1862 and the sailing from San Francisco in March 1862, he had transplanted the family from New England to San Francisco, and had resided there long enough to see His son George through four months of his first job in a store.
Mrs.Rice, Nathan and Annie returned to America after an unknown period in Hakodate, leaving Elisha at his post. In those days Hakodate was an important haven for sealers and whalers of all nationalities and consequently a rough spot. Only a handful of foreign merchants ever settled there and it must have been rather bleak for the Rice family; but the Consulate and Residence were staunchly built to withstand Winter storms. Mrs. Rice and Annie (escorted by her son George and his wife) returned to Hakodate in April, 1868, but there is no record of Elisha's crossings.
In those days Consuls were not drawn from career officers in the Foreign Service as they are now, but were appointed or confirmed by each new Administration. That Col.Rice served throughout nearly five Administrations is a tribute to the esteem in which he was held. Towards the end of Grant's second term, Elisha returned to U.S.A. and retired at No.941 K Street. Washington. This appears to have occurred in 1874 since his obituary in 1885 states that he had lived 11 years Washington. He brought his wife and daughter Annie with him, and the latter, who seems to have been delicate and never married, died there January 11/1884. How Elisha spent the last eleven years of his life in Washington, we do not know, though at 54 he would still have been active, if in good health. Possibly he was still retained by the State Department. Two years after his death in 1885, his wife Almira died in New York on February 12/1887, where she had gone to join a married sister whose name (or that of her daughter Esther) was Blagdon. The Sampsons were Quakers and Almira's sister always used "thee" and "thou" in conversation.
George Edwin Rice (1843-1901), elder son of Col. Elisha E. Rice, was born in Hallowell, Maine, August 26/1843, and lived there until 1856 when the family moved to Roxbury, now a part of Boston, for the next 5 years. In 1861 his father transferred the family to San Francisco where George went to work in a store at the age of l8, the rest of the family going out to Japan. On April 18, 1868, he married in San Francisco Clara Amelia Cummings, born May 14/1846 at (?) Canaan, New Hampshire, daughter of Daniel G. Cummings (b. March 5/1812) and his second wife Amelia Melvina Wallace, (born at Canaan, N.H. December 14/1820, died at San Francisco March 18/1868).
(Amelia Wallace was the daughter of James Wallace (born at Milford, N.H. Oct.17/1766. Her brother, William Allen Wallace, was the father of James Burns Wallace of Canaan, N.H., (b.Aug.14/1866) who was therefore first cousin of George Rice's wife Dorothy's grandmother) and was Dorothy's only surviving relative in America. He died in Canaan in February, 1932. He was a graduate of Dartmouth, a practising lawyer, Justice of the Canaan Courts and a State Senator. He compiled a voluminous History of Canaan with the genealogies of its families for fifty miles around; now an invaluable book of reference.) In 1889 he married Alice Hutchinson but had no children, and late in life adopted a son, naming him also James Wallace.
Daniel G. Cummings went to California in 1854. His wife Amelia followed in 1855 with their daughter Clara Amelia, then nine years old. She was 22 when she married George E. Rice and he 24. In a letter Clara Amelia wrote to her Uncle Allen in Canaan from Hakodate, Japan, June 5/1886, she tells of her mother's death in San Francisco on March 18th and added: "The young man to whom I was engaged (George) was obliged to accompany his mother (Almira) and sister (Annie the latter in delicate health, to Japan, and of course we were married at once very privately and left Francisco April 18th for our voyage across the Pacific. We reached our destination, Hakodate, May 26th, having enjoyed a delightful trip." She makes no mention of Nathan having accompanied them to Japan and since he was 21 years old, one may conclude he remained in San Francisco to pursue his medical studies. We know nothing more about Nathan beyond that in 1885 he was a practicing physician in Illinois and died in San Francisco May 14/1900. He married Lillian McKee (or McKay), and had one son, Malcolm McKee Rice.
On arrival in Hakodate, where his father was U.S Consul, George, a powerfully built young man, was made Marshall of the Consulate, and he and Amelia settled down there. They soon had 3 daughters:
Mabel and Lillian (twins) born December 22/1868*
Clara Edwina (called "Calla") born September 21/1871.
Calla believed that her mother took them back to San Francisco in 1872 and that they returned to Hakodate in 1873/4. After that neither George nor his wife ever saw America again.
Not long after Elisha and his wife retired from Hakodate to Washington, George Rice brought his family down from Hakodate to Tokyo. Calla believed this was about 1877 as she recalls being six years old at the time. They lived at first in Tsukiji, the foreign settlement in Tokyo and George's wife taught English in the jo Gakko, the Government school for girls. When this school was abolished, they moved down to Yokohama and established their residence at No.107 Bluff. George E. Rice was for 3 years Marshall of the U.S.Consulate at Yokohama and for 8 years Vice Consul General. He then entered the field of commerce and tried his hand, unsuccessfully, in two or three business houses in Yokohama, finally taking a position with either Mitsui or Mitsu Bishi in Nagasaki where he died not long afterwards on December l7/1901. He was buried in the Bluff Cemetery in Yokohama beside his wife Amelia who had died a year earlier, November 19/1900, when only 54. She is remembered as a slender, handsome woman, with clean-cut features, a fine horsewoman and an accomplished amateur actress. George Rice was thick-set, square jawed, with dark hair and moustache and of a forbidding mein, probably the result of his duties as Marshall.
Their three daughters grew up in Yokohama's pleasant social atmosphere, learning to ride, enjoying swimming and yachting becoming excellent tennis players and contributing much to entertainments with their charming singing. They were not sent home to school, being content with the simple educational facilities Yokohama possessed.
Mabel Amelia Rice, (twin sister of Lillian Almira) was born December 23/1868 in Hakodate, died October 3O/l952, in London. She married circa 1900 in Yokohama Henry W. Frazer of Inverness, Scotland, accountant of the Hongkong & Shanghai Banking Corp. at Yokohama. He was presently transferred to Hongkong and later appointed Manager in New York where he contracted pneumonia and died July 27/1909. They had no children. Following his death, Mabel went to his people in Inverness and later joined her widowed sister Lillian in London. In 1915 she came back to Yokohama on a visit to the Campbells, after which she decided to take an apartment and remain there. When Yokohama was wiped out in the terrible 1923 earthquake, in which she had a narrow escape, she returned to London, rejoined her sister Lillian, and eventually died in London October 30/1952 in her 84th year.
Lillian Almira Rice (twin sister of Mabel Amelia) was born December 23/1968 in Hakodate, died June 28/1945 in London. She married December 13/1888 in Yokohama Frank Gillett of Walthamstow, England, b.Jan.13/1854, d.Dec.9/l900 in England. They resided in Yokohama where their only child, Evelyn Frances, was born October 12/1889.In June, 1897, when homeward bound on leave in the P.& O. liner "Aden", they encountered a furious storm in the Indian Ocean as they approached the Red Sea, the ship was blown off course and piled up on the rocky island of Socotra where she broke in half in the pounding seas, which swept half the passengers and crew overboard. For nearly a week they endured the storm's relentless attrition, the survivors being finally rescued by a searching destroyer, along them the three Gilletts whose heroic behaviour preserved their lives. He was ill at the tame and never fully recovered from the effects of this experience, dying three years later. Thereafter Lillian made London her home and only once returned to Japan about l908/9 when she brought Evelyn to Yokohama for a few months visit. Evelyn studied music in Berlin and Dresden but did not make it her career. World War I brought her a personal tragedy and she never subsequently married. After her mother's death in l945, she continued to dwell in London but eventually bought a cottage in the country near Storrington, Sussex, where she has lived quietly in frail health.
Clara Edwina Rice ("Calla"), (Dorothy Poole's mother). was born September 21/1871, in Hakodate, died September 26/1959 in Ivy Virginia. Her early childhood was spent in Hakodate, of which she could recall very little; but from seven onwards she had a very happy girlhood in Yokohama, enjoying to the full the active, care free life of those days. She grew into a charming and accomplished lady and was everybody's favorite. Her pure soprano voice brought her constantly before the public on the concert and amateur theatrical stages, while on the tennis courts she became almost unbeatable. In fact she played on the Interport Ladies Tennis Team, whether in Yokohama, Kobe or Hongkong, for fifty years, - from the time she was seventeen until she was sixty seven! On the last occasion she had adamantly refused to play but twenty four hours before the Kobe team was to leave for Yokohama, one of the young players fell ill and Calla was drafted. Without any preparation, she won two out of her four matches!
When she was eighteen she met William Wallace Campbell of Quebec, and three years later they were married in Yokohama on November 30/1892, as has already been narrated. She and "Willy-Wally" were always brimming with wit and gaiety and became the best-loved couple up and down the China Coast. Excelling in sports as they both did in their respective fields, they had many devoted friend's both young and old. In fact, they were young at heart all their days.
They had two children:-
Dorothy May Campbell, born at Yokohama May 18/1895, whose narrative of her life appears earlier, and
Archibald Kenneth Campbell, born at Yokohama October 2/1896, whose career has been described under the Campbells of Quebec.
In the years that followed, as already recorded, the Campbells moved around between Yokohama, Hongkong and Kobe with occasional trips to England, Canada and America, Calla taking especial pleasure in visiting her mother's cousins, the James Burns Wallaces, in their homestead in Canaan, New Hampshire, on the shores of Hart's Pond. "Uncle Burns" and "Aunt Alice" long cherished the memory of her and the children. Calla also made long stays in Guernsey when the children were there in school and took part in everything. When her son Archie was wounded in World War I, she sped home from Japan and stayed by him many months until restored to full health. Her final years in Japan were spent with her husband in Kobe, living first at Ashiya just to the East of Kobe on the Inland Sea, then at Shioya Beach to the West of Kobe. It was at Shioya that his health broke down early in 1938, compelling him to retire and come to live with their daughter Dorothy and Chester Poole in Summit, New Jersey, where "Willy Wally" died in September. Calla then spent a year in London with her sisters Mabel and Lil, both widowed, but as World War II grew worse, was induced to return to Summit, and lived thereafter with Dorothy and Chester. Under the strains of the last few years she slowly became afflicted with arthritis and shortly after the family moved to Virginia, Calla fell, broke her leg near the hip and never walked again. To one who had been so active it was a cruel fate. Archie came over from Scotland to see her in 1950 and again in June 1959, and she finally faded away on September 26/1959, sweet and uncomplaining to the end. She is buried in the graveyard of St.John the Baptist Church near Ivy, at the foot of the Ragged Mountains.
We are in possession of the genealogy book of Sir Andrew Noble, which covers this family extensively. If you want any information additional to your present info, just contact us.
The parentage you have for John Quelch Saxton is probably
incorrect, per this book. Andrew Noble states:
Clement Saxton and Joan Justice had 7 children. The second was Edward Saxton, Lord of the Manor of Goosey, which he bought; this is 4 miles from Wantage and 15 miles from Abingdon, of which he, like his father, was Mayor. In 1716 he was apprenticed to Thomas Harvey, a currier, and in 1721 to Thomas Bush of Abingdon, a wool draper, whose daughter he married. This Edward Saxton and Elizabeth Bush had seven children... John Saxton of the 45th Regiment (son of Edward Saxton and Elizabeth Bush) has sometimes been put forward as our John Quelch Saxton. He cannot be because he died unmarried in Valence in France in July 1778, and a letter to the War Office shows that in 1777 he was at 'Au Buis en Dauphine' and that he had already been away 2 years from is regiment, which was still in America."
After eliminating these false trails, let us return to the Edward Saxton, the rich tanner of Pangbourne, who married Mrs. Elinor Fawcett. The local register records the baptism of 4 children; two boys called Edward died young; we have dates of birth or baptism for William and Ann. We then turn to the town of Wallingford, which is 10 miles from Pangbourne and 14 miles from Wantage, the original family home. He we find that in the church of St. Leonard on the 15th of April, 1733, John Saxton married Mary Quelch, both of the parish of Wallingford. The records of St. Mary, Wallingford, show that they had a son, also called John Saxton, who was baptised on the 3rd of July 1737. Mary Saxton was buried on the 18th of March, 1756 and John Saxton her husband on 13th February 1757, leaving his son, John, an orphan at just under 20. Meanwhile, there is a will of John Saxton of Wallingford, grocer, on the 10th of March 1743, leaving a life interest to Mary Saxton and the remainder to his only son John, failing whom the property was to pass to the testator's brothers, Clement and William, or to his sister, Ann Wilder, a widow. The trustees for this will were William Birch of Calcott near Abingdon, and Edward Saxton of London, distiller. "I Think that this Edward Saxton was probably the Edward Saxton of Whitefriars, Lord of the Manor of Goosey..."
On the 29th of June, 1758, probably just after his 21st birthday, John Saxton married in St. Mary's Wallingford, Sophia Saxton, also of that parish; she was perhaps a cousin, for example possibly the daughter of William Saxton who was baptised in 1704. The register of St. Mary's Wallingford shows that John and Sophia Saxton had 3 children: John Saxton baptised 25 Sep 1760, Charlotte Saxton, baptised on the 22nd July 1762, and Harriot (sic) baptised on the 21st of January 1764. There can be little doubt that this is the same man who died in Quebec 16 April 1809.
He also has quite a bit of personal history of the life of this John Quelch Saxton in America.
Hope the above helps.
Mary (Rankin) Sargeant – Seigneurie at Pointe Seche
[i] Seigneurie at Pointe Seche- Rankin Relative
Date: Tue, 20 Mar 2007 14:17:13 -0400 From:
My name is Mary Sargent, nee Rankin, and my father was James
Rankin who inherited Point Seche from Ernest and Alan Rankin. They were my
great uncles. As a child I spent a few summer days there which I remember
fondly with my father and Uncle Ernest. I saw the information on Louisa Wurtele
Rankin on the internet when I was looking for something else to do with Alan
Coats Rankin, and read with interest what was written about Pointe Seche. I
noticed that at the end of the article the question was raised as to what
happened to Pointe Seche. My husband and I were there in the summer of 1986 as
we were on our way to the Maritimes, and the couple who lived there were kind
enough to let us go inside and look around. We took pictures, and spoke to them
about the house. My father had sold the property and most of its furnishing to
two men from Quebec City who had hoped to turn it into a museum with government
funding. As of 1986 that had not happened, and the furnishings had been sold by
the new owners to a restaurant which subsequently burned down. The property was
in need of repairs when we saw it, and work had begun on the foundation. I
don't know what has happened to it since then. I found it interesting that
mention was made in the article about "the ghost". My father claims he
saw the apparition, which looked like a woman in old fashioned dress, who was
rummaging through the wardrobe in his room! He says it made his hair stand on
end! Anyway, if you or your family is still interested in Point Seche, I hope
you find this helpful. Sincerely, Mary Rankin Sargent
Eileen Marcil – John Sexton Campbell
Eileen Reid Marcil
John Saxton Campbell
Date 01 Oct 2007
I was delighted to find your site, in which you speak of
John Saxton Campbell, and the manoir in Kamouraska, and to pick up a couple of
bits of information from it.
Shipbuilding at Quebec in the 19th century was the subject of my doctoral thesis, so I do know a little about JSC, and was happy to learn more.
I am preparing a talk to give to the Sillery Historical Society next month, on the shipbuilders of the north shore of the St. Lawrence at Quebec, and was looking for a portrait of him when I found your site. I did not find one, though I did find an old photo of the Manor House at the Kamouraska Museum site which, as you can see, is not very good.
Do you know of anyone in the family who would have a portrait? The Musée du Queébec on the Plains of Abraham has recently acquired a portrait of Charles Campbell but doesn't have one of JS.
There is a biography of JS in the Dictionary of Canadian Biography, which is on the net. He was, indeed George Black's partner, from 1825 under a privately written contract, which was deposited in at a notaries office, when it was extended until 1850. However, John S.'s wife persuaded him to leave Canada for Cornwall in 47, so he then sold the shipyard to his associate George Black. By the way, JSC married his first wife, Jane Hamilton, in London on the 11th March 1817. You probably know this, but just in case you don't.
I have quite a bit of information about JSC, some of which is in my book The Charley-Man. If you are interested, perhaps you can get hold of a copy on inter-library loan.
And once again, should you be interested, I would be happy to receive anyone of the family visiting Quebec and allow them to go through and scan or otherwise copy what primary and secondary source material I have.
I guess that's it for now.
Great to find your site.
Bobbie Middlemiss – Campbell Reaves
I was very interested reading the information on this site. I am “Bobbie” the great granddaughter of Campbell Reaves & Helen Augusta Macdonald.
Campbell Reaves (b Nov. 26, 1876 d Mar. 21, 1940) and Helen Augusta Beatrice Macdonald (b June 10, 1879, d July 10, 1964 in Toronto) Married Sept. 20, 1902.
Their daughter Frances Campbell Reaves (b July 22, 1903, d. Mar. 16, 1989) Married Irving Huntly (no ‘e’) (b. July 14, 1889, d. Feb. 23, 1948 Christie on Oct. 9, 1923 in Toronto.
They had 3 children:
1/1. Nadine Christie (b. Sept. 28, 1924 in Toronto, ON, d. Oct. 18, 2001 in Grimsby, ON) Married Robert George Cranfield (b. Aug. 26, 1921 in Peterborough, ON, d. Nov. 9, 1971 in Toronto) Married Feb. 24, 1945 in Toronto.
Nadine had 2 other marriages . Gerrard Martin Marvin Willems and James Savage.
Nadine and Robert had 2 children:
2/1. Frances Roberta (Bobbie) Cranfield (b. April 18, 1947), author of this insert.
2/2. Elizabeth Anne (Betty) Cranfield (b. Jan 24, 1949)
Frances Married James Hammond Leighton (b. June 11, 1946) on Aug. 17, 1968 in Barrie ON
They had 2 sons,
3/1. Christopher Gordon Leighton (b. Oct. 6, 1969 in St. Catharines, ON) Christopher married Leslie White in Ottawa Oct. 9, 1993 and divorced C 1997.
Second marriage to Tammy Nadon Oct. 27, 2001 in Kingston, ON.
Chris & Tammy have a daughter, Ashley Sierra b. Sept. 20, 2002 in Kingston, ON
3/2. James Robert Leighton (b. June 2, 1973, in St. Catharines, ON), James married Darlene Jean Westlake (b. Apr. 5, 1976) June 26, 1999 in St. Catharines, ON.
James and Darlene have a daughter, Kaitlyn McKenzie Leighton (b. Feb. 8, 2002)
Frances Divorced James and Second marriage to Wayne Keith Middlemiss
2/2. Elizabeth married David Jones in Barrie on June 13, 1969.
They had an adopted daughter Vanessa Pauline Jones (b. Sept 14, 1971) Elizabeth & David divorced. Elizabeth remarried Richard Potter who adopted Vanessa
3/1. Vanessa Potter married Alberto Matos (b. Aug. 13, C. 1973) Nov. 19, 2005.
1/2. Frances Helen Elise Christie (b. Jan. 13, 1926, d. Jan. 1, 2003)
1/3. Huntly Campbell Reaves Christie (b. Dec. 22, 1933 in Toronto) Married Patricia Grace Garlick (b. May 24, 1936) on May 31, 1958 in Toronto.
They had 3 children:
2/1. Huntly Gordon Christie (married louise ? and they have 2 sons, Hunter and Deveron)
2/2. Douglas Roland Christie (twice married. 1. Jane ? 2. Rhonda. Douglas & Rhonda have 2 sons, Reaves and Alexander
2/3. Diana Christie never married
2/4. James Campbell Christie married Lorraine? And they have a daughter Emily.
Huntly Campbell Reaves Christie remarried Nancy Joy Woods Nov. 5, 1988
The historical information in the ensuing pages has been taken from a handsomely printed and illustrated two-volume history of "The Hanbury Family" compiled by A. Audrey Locke, Oxford Honours School of Modern History, (author of "The Seymour Family"), and published in 1916 by Arthur Humphries, 187 Piccadilly West, London, a set of which is in the possession of Jillian's mother.
The many branches of the Hanbury Family in England are all descended from:
Roger de Hanbury and Guy de Hanbury of Worcestershire, circa 1182.
Roger had a son Philip, while Guy had one named Geoffrey, circa 1198, and the latter's son was another Guy, circa 1255. It is uncertain whether Philip or Guy was the father of the next in line,
who held one-fourth of a Knight's fee in 1299 and was
bailiff and executor of Bishop Gifford of Worcester in 1300/1305.
The Manor of Hanbury lies 3 miles East of Droitwich and at the time of the Doomsday survey belonged to the Bishopric of Worcester, and so remained until the time of Queen Elizabeth when the Manor and Advowson passed to the Crown in 1562, in exchange for certain tithes. The Queen then granted then to Sir Francis Knollys who gave them to his son-in-law Sir Thomas Leighton, who sold then in 1630 to Edward Vernon, son of the Rector of Hanbury. In this family they still continue. The original Hanbury's held their lands in fief from the Bishop of Worcester.
Knight of the Shire and Justice of the County.
was alive in 1343 and married Elizabeth, daughter of John de
Wyncheley. Their son was another:-
of whom there are no particulars. His son was likewise a:-
whose eldest son William continued the line of Hanburys of
Hanbury Hall. John's third son was:-
who moved six miles North-west to Elmley-Lovett. His only
married Catherine Smythe, who bore him a son, Richard
(III). (His second wife, Margery Tyntes, bore him 3 sons, Henry, John and
Thomas, who moved away and founded the Hanburys of Hampshire and Ombersley.)
of Elmley-Lovett, married the daughter of Philip Bassett.
In 1524 Henry VIII granted him "the farm of the site of the Manor of
Elmley Lovett previously owned by John Bassett, with which were included many
other parcels of land within the Royal Manor of Elmley Lovette. His first son
John follows next. His second son Thomas Hanbury (died 1557) married Joan
Poole of Elmley Lovett who died a widow in 1591 and, like her husband, is
buried in Elmley Lovett churchyard. (It is odd to reflect that 400 years after
this first Hanbury-Poole marriage history repeated itself when a descendant of
the same family Jillian Hanbury married Richard Poole in far off Virginia,
U.S.A. in 1957. The first son of Richard (III) was:-
and buried at Elmley Lovett. He married Elizabeth Bionde
and their son Richard the Elder, died 1608, founded the Hanburys of London and
Datchet, Bucks. John next married Elisabeth BradLey whose first two sons died
young. Their third, Richard the Younger follows next. Her fourth son, Robert,
founded the Hanburys of Wolverhampton.
lived and died in Elmley Lovett. He married Margery Bradley
and their first son, John, moved two miles away to the Northwest and founded
the Hanburys of Purshull Green. Their second son:-
followed the example of a kinsman and in 1698, left Elmley
Lovett for Pontypool, Monmouthshire, where he became interested in a foundry.
He gradually acquired property in Llanvihangel, Pontymoil and Panteg, finally
settling at Panteg and founding the Hanburys of Panteg and Pontymoil. He
married Alice Cole (died 1630) and had four children, Richard, John, Edward
chose to dwell In Pontymoil and was one of the earliest
members of the Society of Friends in England. George Fox, who founded the
Society about 1649, visited him twice - 1651 and 1657. In Fox's diary for 1657
appears the entry:- "Rode to Pontamile to Richard Hanbury where there was
a great meetinge and there came another Justice of Peace and several geoat
people to it; and there understandings were opened by ye Lord's spirit and power."
Richard's garden became the Quaker graveyard; and the next four or five generations of Hanbury's continued to be Quakers. Richard had married in 1630 Cecilia, born 1606, and had five children, - Charles, Richard, Katherine, Mary and Margaret. Charles died unmarried.
had no children by his first wife, Katherine Ford. His
second wife, Mary, who is buried beside him in the Quaker cemetery in
Pontymoil, gave his four sons, -
Charles, Capel, Joseph and Basil. Capel's line became the Hanburys of London and La Mortola and it was his descendant Sir Thomas Hanbury, a successful Shanghai merchant, who in the 1860's acquired "La Mortola" on a small headland of the Italian Riviera, making it a famous garden spot visited by many of Europe's Royalty. Ultimately it was bequeathed to the Italian Government. Richard 11-s first son:-
at Pontymoil, died 1735 and is buried beside the Friends'
Meeting House there. In 1699 he married Grace Beadles (died 1710) and they had
two sons John and Richard (1702-1745). His second wife, Candia, bore him two
daughters, - Ruth and Elisabeth. Charles' first son:-
at Llanvihangel, and died June 22/1758 at Holfield Grange,
Coggeshall, Essex, "of Llanvihangel and Tower Street, London". As a
young man, he left Monmouthshire for London, established himself in Tower
Street and in partnership with his cousin Capel Hanbury of Mark Lane, built up
a business in Virginia tobacco, becoming known ere long throughout Europe as
the greatest tobacco merchant of his day. About 1730, when 30 years of age, he
married Anna Osgood, a Quaker like himself, daughter of Henry Osgood of Plough
Court, London, and of Holfield Grange, Coggeshall, Essex, through whom the
beautiful estate of Holfield Grange came into the Hanbury family. They had one
son, Osgood Hanbury, born 1731, and two daughters, Elisabeth and Anna.
Besides his large operations in Virginia tobacco, John Hanbury played an important part in the development of that young colony, being instrumental in planning and undertaking "the extension of British trade beyond the mountains and settlement of the countries upon the Ohio. He obtained for himself and fellow petitioners a grant of 500,000 acres of land "between Romanettos and Buffalo Creek on the South side of the River Alligam" on which to settle 100 families who were also to build a fort for their protection. Many, possibly all, of these settlers appear to have been Quakers. A few years later, in the final struggle between England and France for the mastery of America this settlement became the scene of severe fighting. In April, 1754, a small force of Virginia militia under Major George Washington, while constructing a defensive fortress, was compelled to withdraw by a superior French force from Fort Leboeuf on Lake Erie which demolished the unfinished works and erected Fort Duquesne on the same site. To oust them the British dispatched fresh troops from England early in 1755. Two of John Hanbury's ships, the "Osgood" and the "Fishburn", were commandeered as transports and arrived at the mouth of the James River on March 2, 1755, "after a most agreeable passage of six weeks and four days". They were met by the Hanburys agent, John Hunter, who escorted the Officers to Williamsburg, where Lieutenant Colonel Burton and Captain Ross where guests at his house. General Braddock arrived in Virginia April 14/1755, and at the head of 1400 British regulars with 450 Colonials under Lt. Col. George Washington, marched to the Ohio to attack Fort Duquesne. On the Monongahela, 5 miles below the fort he was met by a mixed force of 900 French and Indians and, by holding his soldiers massed in close formation, fell an easy prey to the enemy who surrounded and defeated them at the battle of The Wilderness, July 9. With Braddock mortally wounded, Washington led the remnant back to Fort Cumberland, the body of General Braddock having to be hastily buried in an unmarked grave beside the trail. This was the end of John Hanbury's settlement until the French were finally defeated in 1760.
John's wife Anna Osgood had died March 26/1754 before these military disasters; and John himself died June 22/1758 at Holfield Grange. Their only son:-
inherited Holfield Grange and continued his father's
prosperous tobacco business. Like both his parents he was a Quaker. He
married Mary (Molly) Lloyd of Birmingham (died 1770) and had five sons:-
John, Osgood (2), Charles Richard and Sampson.
Rachael, Mary and Anna. John died at 16 making Osgood (2) the heir to Holfield Grange. Charles founded the Hanburys of Halstead.
Sampson (1769-1835) married Agatha, daughter of Richard Guerney of Keswick Hall, Norfolk, and about the year 1800 bought "Poles", a large estate with an imposing mansion and beautiful deer-park near Thundridge, Hertfordshire. From 1799 to 1830 he was Master of the Puckeridge Hounds. Having no children, he left "Poles" to his widow who outlived him 12 years, and thereafter to his nephew Robert Hanbury, as appears later.
inherited Holfield Grange in 1784; and in 1789 married
Susannah Willett Barclay, daughter of John Barclay the London banker who was a
descendant of King James 2 of Scotland. Osgood was himself a London banker, a
partner in Barnett, Hoare, Hanbury & Lloyd. He and Susannah had six sons,
Osgood (3) 1794-1873, Robert 1798-1884, Henry, Sampson, Philip and Arthur. Also
4 daughters:- Mary, Rachael, Anna and Susan.
Osgood (3) inherited Holfield Grange, as did his son and grandson, both named Osgood, the last of whom died 6 days after his marriage in 1889 to his cousin Flora Tower; and Holfield Grange passed out of the Hanbury family to her second husband, Reginald Duke Hill. Of his brothers, Robert follows next; Philip founded the Hanburys of Woodlands, Redhill, and Arthur became the Vicar of Bury St. Mary, Suffolk.
became the senior partner in Truman, Hanbury, Buxton &
Co., London the well-known brewers. On the death of his Aunt Agatha in 1847,
he inherited his Uncle Sampson's beautiful estate "Poles", where he
died in 1884. He was a J.P. of Hertfordshire and a Deputy Lieutenant; also
High Sheriff of the County. Together with Anthony Ashley Cooper, 7th Earl of
Shaftsbury, Lord Ebury and others, Robert assisted in founding the Church of
England Scripture Reading Association. He also built and endowed two churches.
From all of which it seems that Robert had abandoned the Quaker beliefs of his
forbears. He married in 1819 his cousin Emily Willett Hall (died 1847) and they
had 5 sons: -
1. Robert (2) 1823-1667, who follows next.
2. Charles, who founded the Hanburys of Belmont, Herts, and Strathgarve, Dingwall, Ross-shire. He had 4 sons, Harold, John Mackensie, Basil and David. Through Harold's early death, John became heir and had a beautiful place called Rylands at Chelmsford, Essex, the house containing a hundred rooms. John died in l922 but his widow continued to live there with her son "Jock" who in World War II joined the R.A.F. and was killed in a flying accident. (In their early married life Jillian's parents Anthony and Una Hanbury, often stayed at this lovely place "Rylands".)
3. George, who founded the Hanburys of Blythewood, Maidenhead, Bucks He had 3 sons, Reginald, Lionel and Robert.
4. Edgar, who founded the Hanburys of Eastrop Grange, Highwith. He had 3 sons - Bernard, Caryl and Evelyn.
5. Guerney, a Captain in the 8th Hussars who founded the Hanburys of Holmwood Lodge, Ascot. 1 son, Everard, of the Scots Greys. There was also 1 daughter, Madeleine, who married Daniel Chapman.
later known as Robert Culling Hanbury,. Though heir to
"Poles" he never inherited it as his father outlived him, the estate
passing direct to his eldest son, Edmund. Robert became a partner in his
father's firm, Truman, Hanbury, Burton & Co. and lived at 10 Upper
Grosvenor Street, London, where he died. He was from 1857 to 1865 Member of
Parliament for Middlesex. In 1849, when his father inherited
"Poles", he married Caroline Smith, daughter of Abel Smith of
Woodell, Hertfordshire. After giving him 5 sons and 3 daughters, Caroline died
in 1863. In 1865 Robert married again, Frances Selina Eardley, eldest daughter
of Sir Culling E. Eardley, Bart, of Bedwell Park, Hertfordshire and thereupon
assumed the additional name of Culling. Their two children died in infancy.
Robert's children by his first wife, Caroline, were:-
1/1. Edmund Smith Hanbury, born 1850, died 1913 at "Poles". Was educated at Eton and Christchurch, Oxford. He, too was a partner in Truman, Hanbury, Burton & Co., but retiring in 1886 after inheriting "Poles" in 1884. He became a J.P. and Deputy Lieutenant for Hertfordshire. In later life, he was for two years, 1906-1909, Prime Warden of one of the famous old London Guilds, the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers. When 26, he had married in 1876, Jane Amy Matilda Leslie, of Warthill, Aberdeenshire, and they had one son, Robert Francis Hanbury, born 1883 at Bedwell Park, and two daughters, Muriel Leslie and Caroline Agatha. In 1890 Edmund and his wife rebuilt "Poles" imposingly in the Jacobean manner, as it still is. On his death in 1913, "Poles" descended to his only son Robert Francis, who had been educated at Eton and Christchurch, Oxford, and called to the Bar (Inner Temple) in 1910. He saw active service in World War I as Captain in the 4th Battalion Bedfordshire Regt. A year after inheriting "Poles", he sold it out of the family to a Mr. H.J. King, and later on it became a convent. Captain Robert Francis Hanbury survived the War and in 1939 was living in Scotland.
1/2. Evan Hanbury, born 1854 at "Poles" and educated at Eton and Cambridge. He took over his father's brewery shares (when his father got the idea that breweries were immoral) and did very well out of them. As a young man, he moved to Braunston Manor House, Oakham, Rutlandshire, where he was a J.P. and for 26 years Master of the Cottesmore Foxhounds. He married in 1886 Mrs. Finch (Gwendolin Smith) of Burley-on-the-hill and had one son and one daughter. The former, Robert Evan Hanbury, born 1887, was killed in World War I. His son James is now living at Burley-on-the-hill, Manton, Oakham, one of the stately homes of Britain.
Hester, married Robert E.N. Heathcote and they live at Manton Hall, Oakham, Rutland.
1/3. Anthony Ashley Hanbury, 1861-1914, who follows next.
1/4. Francis William Hanbury, No details. May have died young.
1/5. Herbert Hanbury. Died in infancy.
he three daughters of Robert Hanbury (2) were:
1/1. Emily, Married in 1887 Rev. W. Hay Chapman.
1/2. Mabel married in 1879 Hon. Hamilton James Tollemanche, son of Lord Tollemanche of Helmingham.
1/3. Caroline, married in 1884 Mathew George Farrer.
third son of Robert Hanbury (2), usually called Ashley, was
born January 4/1861 at "Poles" and died January 3/1914 at Stoke
Green, Bucks. He was educated at Cheam, Eton and Oxford and in his bachelor
days travelled around the world and did a lot of big game hunting. He married
April 11/1889 Amy Georgina Handcock, born in Ireland and died in London April
1920. She was the daughter of Hon. R.F. Handcock of the Royal Artillery.
Handcock is the family of the Irish Stannus peerage and Amy's grandfather was
Lord Stannus. When Ashley married, he moved to "Sunnyside", Farnham
Common, Buckinghamshire, where all his children were born. About 1910 he built
the "White House", Stoke Green, Bucks, four miles from Farnham
Common, a large house and lived there until his death in 1914. The place was
sold a year later. Anthony Ashley, as a young man, was given the choice of
going into the family brewery business, - Truman, Hanbury & Buxton, or
starting on his own. Unfortunately he chose the latter, going into partnership
with Vesey Strong and putting up the capital for a Company, Strong &
Hanbury, Paper merchants, of Upper Thames Street, London. After a bit, Strong
began to play the stock market, with such success that he became Sir Vesey
Strong, Lord Mayor of London, in 1910.
After that, however, he lost all his money and Anthony Ashley's as well, with the result that when Ashley died in 1914 there was little left, "White House" had to be sold and Amy, who lived on till 1920, pulled things together by starting an antique business in Chelsea. Anthony Ashley and Amy had 3 sons, Claude, Anthony and Michael; and three daughters, Vera, Madeleine and Joan.
2/1. Claude Everard Robert Hanbury born 1893. In World War I he held a commission in the Irish Guards and was killed in action at Ypres, October 18/1917.
2/2. Anthony Henry Robert Culling Hanbury, born July 23/1902, who follows next.
2/3. Michael Hanbury, born September 30/1906. was educated at Bradfield, a Public School near Reading, Berks. On leaving school, he went out to South Africa about 1924 and on September 1/1934, married Elaine Knill born June 17/1905 in Hove, Sussex whose great-uncle, Sir John Stewart Knill, was Lord Mayor of London at the end of the 19th century. The family was originally de Knill, of Knill Court, Knill Herefordshire. In 1935, Michael bought "Kildonan", a 7000 acre estate 25 miles North of Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia, where he successfully grew tobacco and raised cattle. As time passed however the 5000 ft. altitude did not suit Elaine, and in 1950 the sold "Kildonan" and bought a smaller estate of 1400 acres, "Ashley Grange", 25 miles from Pietermaritzburg, the capital of Natal, where they now raise poultry for the Durban market 75 miles away. Michael and Elaine have two children:-
3/1. Yvonne Elaine Hanbury, as yet unmarried and nursing in Bulawayo, Southern Rhodesia.
3/2. Ashley Michael Hanbury, born May 3/1939, educated at Rusawe, Southern Rhodesia and Michaelhouse, Natal. Married August 24/196l, Alexis McKechnie, born at Strome, Argyllshire and later lived at Manton, Oakham, Rutlandshire. She was Secretary to Harold Macmillan during his campaign for election as Prime Minister. Ashley is at present engaged with his father in farming Ashley Orange. He and Alexis have one son:
4/1. David Ashley Alexander Hanbury, born February 21/1963 at Pietermaritzburg, Natal.
The three daughters of Anthony Ashley Hanbury were -
2/1. Vera, born 1890, died 1950, married Brian Henry Stock and had 2 sons and 2 daughters.
2/2. Elsie Madeleine Amy, (called Madeleine), born 1896. She never married and died in 1957 in Oxford.
2/3. Joan Agatha Mary Gordon, born 1899, married 1934 Nicholas Kemmie. She has two daughters, Sheila and Penny. They live in Southern Rhodesia.
was born July 23/l902 at "Sunnyside", Farnham
Common, Bucks (He prefers now to drop the name Culling, since he is not
lineally a Culling.) He was educated at the Royal Naval Colleges of Osborne and
Dartmouth and was due to go to sea in a month's time when World War I came to
an end in November, 1918. He left the Navy a month later and served 2 years
apprenticeship in an electrical engineering factory intending to make
engineering his career; but on completing his apprenticeship, he had to
relinquish this goal in order to be with his now ailing mother in London. He
then entered the Head Office of the Royal Exchange Assurance Co. and a
fortnight after doing so, his mother died, in April, 1920. However, he remained
on with the Royal Exchange for the next five years. By then, 1925, Anthony was
23 and stood 6 ft. 4 inches. Like his Uncle Edmund, he was admitted to the
livery of the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers, a privilege he still retains.
In 1926, Anthony married, in St. Ethelburga's Church, London, Una Rawnsley, daughter of Noel and Violet Cutbill Rawnsley, of "Weald Height", near Knowle Park, Seven Oaks, Kent. For a few years they lived in London and had two daughters, -
At the time of his marriage, Anthony left the Royal Exchange Assc.Co. and went onto the London Stock Exchange, becoming a member and later a partner in Quilter & Co. In these early years of their marriage, Una recalls often visiting at Anthony's cousin John Hanbury's lovely estate "Rylands" in Chelmsford, Essex, with John's widow and son "Jock" and being much impressed by its 100 bedrooms. Ere long, Anthony and Una moved out to the country, living at Derbyfields, North Warnborough, Hampshire, some five miles East of Basingstoke, where they and the two little girls had their own horses and enjoyed riding to hounds.
On the outbreak of World War II in 1939, Anthony, then 37, joined up in the Royal Artillery, but his heart gave out, and in 1941 he was discharged as unfit, with the rank of Captain. Meanwhile Una had, in 1940, taken the girls across the Atlantic, placing Diana in school in Canada and going on with Jillian then 10, to Bermuda. There Anthony joined her early in 1941, securing a censorship post for the next three months. Unfortunately their wartime separation had become an estrangement and he went back alone to England in the Autumn of 1941, a divorce being granted in 1945.
On his return to London, he had joined up with an old friend in the City, Denys Lowson, (later Sir Denys Lowson, Lord Mayor of London in 1950) and became a Director in 28 Companies controlling 35 million pounds sterling of capital.
In l945 he married Clair Tunnell, born June 7/1916 at Telford Park, London, S.W. and they lived at Hallam St., London.
Gradually, he was beginning to find life in a metropolis less and less tolerable, and in 1947 decided to break away and start afresh with Clair in Southern Rhodesia where his younger brother Michael was already established and growing tobacco. Anthony first bought an 80 acre farm near Umtali, about 100 miles from Salisbury, growing fruit and vegetables, but abandoned this when other business interests in Salisbury required urgent attention. Instead, he bought a 100 acre farm near Salisbury and again went into production, as well as establishing a large native store. Things did not go well for him, however, and he lost much of his capital. Moreover, Clair had never been fit in the Rhodesian climate so in 1950 they moved to Natal where he is new managing the well-known Royal Hotel in Ladysmith. He and Clair have no children.
Anthony's children by his first marriage were:-
1. Diana Hanbury, born September 2/1927, in London. She went to English, Canadian and Bermudian schools and in 1945 returned to England to complete her education in London University. She then went out to Rhodesia in 1948 to visit first her father and Clair and then her Uncle Michael and Aunt Elaine, where she obtained a post as teacher at Rusawe boys school. This experience persuaded her to adopt teaching as a career. On rejoining her mother and Jillian in Washington, she took her M.A. in Germanic languages at George Washington University and taught at the Sidwell Friends' School. She is now teaching at the Potomac School in Washington. Diana also owns and operates a Summer Study Camp for Children which she calls "Dunnabeck" (after her great grandfather's cottage by Rydal Water in the English Lake District) located high up in the Alleghennies near Uniontown, Pennsylvania, only a few miles from where roadbuilders recently uncovered the long-lost grave of the British General Braddock mortally wounded in the battle of The Wilderness against the French at Monongahela in 1755, an event which figures in the history of her Hanbury ancestors.
In 1952 Diana married, in the National Cathedral in Washington, James Cecil King, born in Uniontown, Pa., in 1924 who was then a teacher in St. Alban's School. They did not hit it off and were divorced in 1957 Diana retaining their two children. She now lives with them in McLean, Virginia, on the fringe of Washington. Her children are.-
Christopher Hanbury King, born June 26/1954 in Washington.
Sheila Ann King, February 19/1956
2. Jillian Hanbury, born August 11/1930, in London, whose history has already been recorded. While travelling in Europe in 1951, she greatly enjoyed three weeks in London with her father. Anthony then on a visit from South Africa with his wife Clair.
On November 2/1957, Jillian married, in Ivy, Virginia, Richard Armstrong Poole, born April 29/1919 in Yokohama, Japan,. a Foreign Service Officer in the U.S. Department of State, whose history has also
been previously recorded. They have one son, -
Anthony Hanbury Poole, born February 6/1961 in Washington, D.C. and christened June 3/1961 in the National Cathedral.
A second son:
Colin Rawnsley Poole, was born January 14/1964 in Washington, D.C., and christened April 18/1964, in the National Cathedral.
left Yorkshire and settled in Bourne, Lincolnshire, where he
married Deborah Hardwicke and became a man of weight in County affairs. His
house, with coats of arms on its walls, may still be seen in Bourne. His fourth
went to Eton as a King's Scholar, where he was noted for his
prowess as a puglist and swimmer. He was elected a Reynolds Scholar Exeter
College, Oxford and eventually became the Rector of Halton Holgate, near
Spilsby, Lincolnshire, where he died in 1861. He was an intimate friend of Dr.
Tennyson, Rector of the neighboring parishes of Somersby and Bag Enderly, who
subsequently entrusted to him the guardianship of his four sons, the future
Poet Laureate and his brothers. Thomas had two sons, Edward and Drummond, both
of whom took orders. The younger,
(called "Drummond") was born in 1817 and educated
first, at Laleham, afterwards at Rugby under Dr. Arnold. He went to Brasenose
College Oxford, later becoming a fellow of Magdalen. He married in 1843
Catherine Ann Franklin, a daughter of Sir William Franklin, Judge of the
Supreme Court of Madras, who died of cholera in 1824. The Judge's wife survived
him only a few months and Catherine was left under the guardianship of her
father's brother, Sir John Franklin the Arctic Explorer, and spent some years
with his sister, Mrs Selwood.
After working in Hertfordshire and Hampshire, Drummond became Vicar of Shiplake-on Thames; and from this Vicarage, Alfred Tennyson was married in 1850 by his lifelong friend, Drummond. The poet's bride, Emily Selwood, was a cousin of Catherine's.
Drummond and Catherine had five sons and four daughters. On his father's death in 1861, Drummond succeeded him as Rector of Halton Halgate and moved into the vicarage with his large family in 1862. This was their home for the next twenty years until his death in 1882. Though Catherine's parental home had been at Spilsby, she continued to live in Halton Holgate where she died in 1892. Their first son William was born the year after their marriage. During the next seven years they had one daughter and then came:-
born at Shiplake on-Thames September 25/1851, With him was
born a twin sister, Frances who lived to a great age, dying in the early years
of World War II. When eleven years old, Hardwicke entered Uppingham School in
Rutlandshire of which his Godfather, Edward Thring, was Headmaster; and in 1870
went on to Balliol, Oxford taking his degree in Natural Science in 1874. He
then entered Holy Orders and vas ordained Deacon in Gloucester Cathedral in
1875. After serving two years in Bristol, he was offered by his cousin of Wray
Castle on Lake Windermere, Westmorland, the living at the village of Wray,
which he accepted and was ordained Priest at Carlisle Cathedral on December
On January 29/1878 he married at Brathay, Edith Fletcher of a well-to-do coal owning family who lived at The Croft Ambleside, Lake Windermere, with whom he had sometimes stayed. She was a gifted artist, very shy but vigorous. An album of her water-colour sketches dated from 1860 to 1910, now in her grand-daughter Una's possession, show a perfection of detail combined with overall effect that is now rarely met with.
In 1879 they set out with four friends on a six months trip to Egypt, Sinai and Palestine, travelling over the desert by camel and elsewhere on horseback, returning to England via Cyprus, Greece and Constantinople. It proved an illuminating adventure and Hardwicke later lectured on their experiences.
On December 14/1880 their son Noel was born in Wray Vicarage. He was their only child.
In 1883 the Bishop of Carlisle bestowed on Hardwick the living of Crosthwaite at Keswick on Derwentwater, Cumberland, the vicarage becoming his home for the next 34 years. In 1893, he was made honorary Canon of Carlisle.
Canon Rawnsley was a remarkable man, enterprisingly public-spirited not only in his own parish but over the countryside. His wife shared his enthusiasm and founded the Keswick School of Industrial Arts, originally to keep young working men out of the pubs, but ultimately it became a permanent institution and still exists. Edith herself supervised the teaching of metal-working. What soon brought Hardyicke into prominence were the many battles he fought to prevent the beauties of the Lake District from desecration by railroads and the ruthless destruction of old bridges and other picturesque landmarks. In this struggle he grew to be a national figure and it was he who inspired and was a co-founder of the National Trust in 1893, remaining its Honorary Secretary for the rest of his life. In gratitude, the people of the Lake District by public subscription acquired a large tract of land on Derwentwater embracing Friar's Crag, Lord's Island and a part of Great Wood which they presented to the National Trust "In honour of Hardwicke Drummond Rawnsley."
He was a man of cheerful disposition and ready wit, given to sprinkling his personal correspondence with amusing verses. He travelled widely and was the author of many books, notably about the historic and scenic interest of the Lake District, including one volume of serious poems.
In 1896 he was asked by one of the London newspapers to attend the coronation of Csar Nicholas II in Moscow; and he and his wife Edith were honoured guests at the ceremonies. Two years later they spent five weeks in U.S.A., visiting various Eastern colleges.
Feeling the need in 1907 of a quiet refuge, they bought the little holding of "Dunnabeck" in Grasmere, a cottage and a few fields lying high up on the Eastern Fell with a beautiful outlook over Rydal Water. They made the house and garden as perfect as possible and for the next nine years "Dunnabeck" brought a feeling of peace and restfulness into their hurried lives. There, too, their grand-children frequently came to visit them and romped with them over the fells.
In 1909 Hardwicke was made Second Canon of Carlisle, and in 1912 Chaplain to the King in recognition of his lifework. From 1909 until his death he spent three months of each year in residence at the Abbey and the remaining nine months at Crosthwaite. He was now past sixty and felt the time near for giving up his work at Crosthwaite. However the outbreak of World War I in 1914 made him reluctant. Then in 1915 came on opportunity to purchase "Allan Bank" at Grasmere, a house standing high on an out-jutting spur between the lake and Easdale, with fields running down to the water and woods rising to the fells. It was just such a home as they had long dreamed of. Wordsworth had lived there in 1808-11; Coleridge. de Quincy and other famous men had foregathered in its studio. By the end of Summer, they owned it and in the following year made it ready to be their home. Sadly, however Edith contracted influenza and died in Carlisle December 31/1916. Without her, he felt he could not carry on at Crosthwaite and preached his last sermon there at Easter, retiring in May to Allan Bank. He continued, however, his Autumn term at Carlisle Cathedral.
On June 1/l918, he married a long-time friend Eleanor Simpson whose parental home and fields, "The Wray", lay next to "Allan Bank". She and her two sisters had known the Rawnsleys since girlhood and had travelled with them in Europe. In the months after their quiet wedding they journeyed around England; and in the Spring of 1920 visited Provence and the battlefields of Northern France. On their return to England, his health began to flag and he died at Allan Bank on May 29/1920. Eleanor, who survived him many years, proved a devoted biographer and her interesting book "Canon Rawnsley" was published in 1923. Most of these notes on his life are taken from it. After her death in the late 1950's at Allan Bank, the house was presented to the National trust. It contains a beautiful Della Robbia "Annunciation" about 5' x 3'. which Hardwicke brought back from Italy before the Italian Government stopped the export of art treasures.
only child of Canon Hardwicke Drummond Rawnsley and Edith
Fletcher was born at the Wray Vicarage, Grasmere, December 14/1880. His father
hoped that he, too, would enter the Church, but he had other ideas. After his
schooling at Rugby, instead of going on to Oxford he joined on an
archaeological expedition to Egypt under the leadership of W.M. Flinders
Petrie, the famous Egyptologist who in 1903-5 discovered the earthwork city of
the Hyksos on the Nile delta.
On his return to England, he married Violet Hilton Cutbill, one of a family of eight who lived at Ruxley, Foots Cray, Kent. The Cutbills were originally a French Huguenot family of the name de Quetteville. Violet's father Arthur Cutbill worked in the City of London in a tea importing or brokerage firm. Noel's daughter Una recalls that "Arthur commuted daily from Sidcup station with a "nosegay" in his button-hole and a jaunty whistle on his lips. Violet's mother was a Hilton and her mother a Key, rather a beauty it was said. Somewhere there was a relationship with General Gordon of Khartoum ("Chinese Gordon") whose aged brother I addressed as "Uncle" when - during my early childhood I visited him, seated in his bath-chair, at Bexhill-on-sea. "Ruxley" was a pleasant home where the sun always shone in ones memory; horses and fierce little ponies in the stables, Jersey cows in the meadows below the house who licked ones hands with rough tongues and breathed deliciously scented warm breath into ones face; a place where bees were kept along one perilous vegetable-garden path, (a good place to close ones eyes and race past); an orchard with roaming sheep that one could chase and where rather frightening pigs rooted about. Adjoining the back garden was a wood where silver birch and ferns spread a delicious shade and a child could wander along mossy paths and come by surprise upon a rabbit. Now all this is buried beneath a huge highway and busy intersection with traffic lights and endless streams of trucks going in and out of London. Arthur Cutbill, the presiding spirit over the place with all the tall Uncles and Aunts of various degrees of popularity in a child's mind, had disposition of immeasurable sweetness and never in anyone's memory had been heard to utter a discourteous or unkind word."
For a while after their marriage, Noel and Violet lived at Staines, Middlesex, where their daughter Una was born; then moved to Seven Oaks, Kent, where three sons were born, - Conrad Franklin, David Willingham and Derek Lincoln. Meanwhile Noel had built himself a new house "Weald Height" - a gift from his father the Canon, - near lovely Knowle Park at Seven 0aks, - which stood on the downs with a magnificent view over the whole Weald of Kent. His youngest son Derek was the only one born at "Weald Height", in 1911, but it was also the well-remembered home of his brothers and sister from early childhood. On marrying, Noel had settled down to the creation of a machine printing-press which was to print just as beautiful as the hand presses. It was a revolt against the Ruskin School in which he had been raised. The type he designed himself; he ground his own ink to be sure of its quality; and he had rag paper specially made by Portals.
The Beaver Press, as it was called, was considered to it out the best printing done at that tine in England. Just when it started to pay its way, World War I broke out and Noel immediately joined up in the first expeditionary force to France as an assistant to Sir Alfred Kerr's Red Cross Service. In his absence, the Beaver Press had to be sold to pay off debts.
While in France, Noel succeeded in getting into active service by joining the Royal Engineers Signal Corps as a dispatch rider. Presently, however, he was invalided out having contracted pleurisy in the terrible conditions of the 1916 Winter. After recovering, he went to work as an overseer for Swan Hunter, Wigham & Richardson, ship-builders on Tyneside, who were turning out destroyers. That was where Noel's daughter Una saw her first ship-launching.
Shortly after the war was over, Noel came into quite an inheritance from his father. He had always had a passion for horseback riding and for sailing; and the latter he was now able to indulge by buying a beautiful 40-ton cutter called the "Sorceress" in which he spent many summers cruising around England and the West Coast of France. Probably his enthusiasm engendered the spark of love for sailing and the sea which burns so brightly in his grand-daughters Diana and Jillian.
Noel had always been the despair of his parents in his handling of money, and little by little his inheritance was depleted by ill-advised investments. In the late twenties, having run through his money, Noel retired with Violet to the Isle of Capri, where they built themselves a lovely little villa in which to spend their remaining days. He occupied himself experimenting with tree-growing, and later on in trying to promote World Peace, in a sense carrying on his son Derek's ideals after his death. Early in the 1950's, Noel died in their Anacapri villa, where Violet is still living in 1962.
Though Una was Noel's first child, it will be simpler to write first of her three brother:
was born at Seven Oaks, Kent, and educated at Osborne and
Dartmouth Naval Academies. By making the Navy his career, he was fulfilling a
frustrated ambition of his father's. After his second tour of duty on the
Yangtze, he married an English girl named Elsin whom he had met while in China.
During the early days of World War II, he was invalided out of the service with
the rank of Commander. He then started a successful visual education service
but was squeezed out by a designing partner who had obtained financial control.
To recoup this disaster, Elsin started making dolls' clothing and, inspired by
her success, Conrad developed a dolls' clothing factory with headquarters in
Sussex which has done well. Like his father, Conrad is a keen sailing man and
has taken part in many regattas.
They have two daughters.
born at Seven Oaks, was educated at Westminster and
Architectural College. As soon as qualified, he defied his parents and became
a scenic designer and painter for the movies. During World War II, he served in
the merchant service, was sunk in Winter weather and became tubercular. On
recovery, he went back to the movie industry and became Art Director for
Elstree Studios; then free-lanced until he was appointed Head of Technological
Research for Arthur Rank. Eventually he became disgusted, threw his career
overboard and turned to making Chelsea pottery, establishing an Atelier Libre
whose distinctive work has became well-known for its originality and
excellence. At the invitation of prominent Bahamians, and with the Governor's
blessing, David later set up in Nassau the counterpart of his Chelsea
enterprise to develop the native originality in pottery. He calls it
"Chelsea Pottery, Bahamas" and now lives in Nassau, where he is
well-known as a painter and sculptor.
David married three times and has four sons by his present wife. These boys are the only bearers of the name Rawnsley, and now live in London, England, with their mother.
Noel's third son was born at Weald Height, Seven Oaks, Kent,
on November 24/1911, and died in February 1943 while on active service in World
War II. His obituary in the London Times of March 12/1943, recounts his
"Flight Lieutenant Derek L. Rawnsley who was killed on active service in February, was born at Seven Oaks and went to Summerfields Preparatory School from which he gained a King's Scholarship for Eton, and from there went on to University College, Oxford. At Eton he was Vice Captain of the Field Game and Keeper of The Wall, besides winning his place in the Eight and the Rugby XV. He was co-founder of the Public Schools magazine, "The Gate". At Oxford he had the rare distinction of being given trials for both the University Eight and the Rugby XV. He joined the University Air Squadron and passed his "A" Certificate shortly before he left. On a visit to Norway, he learned to ski, and while on a solitary ski journey to the North Cape experienced the first of the of the amazing escapes from death which characterised his career, - he broke his leg and was found by a chance traveller as dark was falling, being thus saved from death from exposure. On recovering, he escorted emigrant children to the Kingsley Fairbridge Farm, Western Australia, and in 1932 bought in Australia an old "Moth" which had formerly belonged to Kingsford-Smith and with little knowledge of air navigation set out upon a solo flight back to England which ended, after many hairbreadth escapes and adventures, at Abingdon Airport near Oxford. His explanation was that, having put off his departure too long, this was the only way of arriving back at Oxford in time for term.
"In 1935, he embarked upon his first independent commercial venture with the opening by Sir Philip Sassoon of a gallery for the hire of pictures by contemporary artists. In 1938, Rawnsley founded the Federal Union movement with an advisory council at the head of which stood the late Lord Lothian with Sir William Beveridge, Master of University College, Oxford. The latter writes:- "My personal contacts with him dated from the time he came to see me as one of the three young men who, by founding Federal Union in this country even before the appearance of the book by Clarence Street (who also was a member of this College) set out to stop this World War and thereafter to ensure, if possible. that it was the last of its kind. Derek Rawnsley was one of the type essential to salvation which sets out to do things because they have never been done before and because they seem impossible. Unless, after this War we have sufficient men of his type, ripened by experience and judgement, the was may prove to have been fought in vain."
"Until the fall of France, when he joined the R.A.F., Rawnsley devoted his attention to an idea for civil infiltration and the organised passive and active resistance of European countries which was to have been called "Three Arrows". In his 31 years, Rawnsley had experienced more of life than many much older men. He had taken part in the toughest games at school: had ski-ed, sailed his own ship, competed in Ocean races, learned to glide in Germany and England, jackerooed on the "out-back" sheep and cattle stations in Australia, and had piloted his own aeroplane half around the world."
In 1941 he married Miss Brenda Hugh-Jones and a photograph taken on their wedding day shows them both in uniform, he a typical flyer and she an exceptionally lovely girl of about 20. He left immediately after the wedding for the Mediterranean Sphere of Operations and lost his life in North Africa in February 1943 while en route to meet his bride for a period of leave together. (See below for her obituary, July 2007)
daughter of Noel and Violet Rawnsley, was born at Staines,
Middlesex, but grew up with her younger brothers at Weald Height, Seven Oaks,
Kent, where she recalls riding their ponies around Knowle Castle and galloping
over the long rides between ancient beech and oak trees. Riding was a Rawnsley
tradition. As she put it "I never remember learning to ride; I always
rode." One of Canon Rawnsley's brothers at the age of seventy, rode a
horse that he bred himself in the local hunt "Point-to-Point" and won
the race. At the time he was still Master of the Hounds.
Una was christened by her grandfather, Canon Rawnsley, at Crosthwaite Church in Keswick, and throughout her childhood made frequent visits to him and his wife at Carlisle and their cottage "Dunnabeck". Amongst the Canon's poems as an affectionate one to her as a child. He delighted in the companionship of his grand-children and with them climbed the fells, rowed on the lake and bathed in the becks; while his wife Edith fostered their love of art. Una was especially gifted and when she grew up attended Polytechnic Art School and the Royal Academy School of Art. She also studied marble carving in Venice. Among her instructors were Jacob Epstein and Frank Calderon the famous animal artist. She exhibited frequently at the Royal Academy and Salon d'Autonne.
With particular affection, she remembers the Canon's twin sister Frances who never had a day's illness and lived to 90. She was a great character, somewhat awe-inspiring to the young undergraduates who were invited to take tea on Sundays at her house in Oxford where she lived for many years with her sister Ethel. She was always most kind and financially generous to Una and her daughters in later years.
In January 1926 Una married in St. Ethelburga's Church in the City of London, Anthony Henry Robert Culling Hanbury, of White Rouse, Stoke Green, Buckinghamshire, whose history is recorded elsewhere. He was then in his twenty-fourth year and a Member of the London Stock Exchange. For a while they lived in Kensington, London, where their two daughters were born, Diana on Sept.2/1927 and Jillian on August 11/1930, both being christened at St. Etherlburga's Church. In October, 1930, they moved into the country at "Derbyfield", North Warnborough, Hampshire, about 6 miles East of Basingstoke, where they enjoyed the possession of a large garden and stables for their own horses. Here, the girls became expert horsewomen, rode to hounds with their parents, and in the Summertime showed their horses.
On the outbreak of World War II in 1939, Anthony joined up, becoming a Captain in the Royal Artillery; and early in 1940, Una decided to take the girls, then 13 and 10, out of England, going first to Canada where Diana was left in the Trafalgar School, Montreal (later transferring to the Riverbend School in Winnipeg) while Jillian continued on with her mother to Bermuda. There Diana joined them in 1941. Meanwhile Anthony, whose Army service had ended with the development of heart trouble, also joined the family in Bermuda early in 1941; but the separation had brought about an estrangement and after a few months he returned alone to London a divorce ensuing in 1945.
In the Autumn of 1943, Diana, just turned 16, went back to school in Canada, at Branksome Hall, Toronto, Una and Jillian remaining in Bermuda until 1944 when they moved to Washington, D.C., living first with Robert Frost's daughter and then in Georgetown. For the next twelve years, Una made her home in Washington engaging in real-estate business in her own name and starting the movement to remodel the slums around Capitol Hill. As will be told presently, Diana went on from Canada to London University, while Jillian attended American schools and George Washington University. During these years, Una kept up an active interest in the Arts and in 1947, while the girls were away at school, spent several months among the Pueblo Indians of New Nexico, living in the Pueblo of San Ildefonso and studying their arts and mode of life.
Realising that Washington was becoming her permanent home, she bought her own place, "The Trees", 5035 Eskridge Terrace, N.W., which is still her home. At about the same time, Una became an American citizen, Jillian later following her example in 1954; whereas Diana, whose schooling was almost entirely British, has remained a British subject.
Since Una's life was closely linked with her two daughters, a brief outline of their progress will be helpful. For further details, see also the Hanbury Section.
On finishing school in Canada in 1945, when approaching 18,
spent a Summer in a Sailing Camp in Maine and made a brief visit to Washington
before going to England to complete her education at London University, where
she put in three years, l945-8. While there she spent six weeks in Italy to
improve her knowledge of Italian. On graduation, she spent a year in Southern
Rhodesia with her father and his brother Michael, returning permanently to
Washington in 1950 where, in evening classes at George Washington University,
she took an M.A. in Germanic languages.
In 1952, she married James Cecil King in Washington, and had two children
Christopher Hanbury King, born June 26/1954 in Washington
Sheila Ann King, February 19/1956,
The marriage, however, did not work well and they were divorced in 1957. Diana and the children live in McClean and she teaches in the Potomac School. She also owns and operates a Summer Study Camp for children high in the Allegheny Mountains which she calls "Dunnabeck" in memory of her great-grandfather's cottage at Rydal Water in the English Lake District. Una had eventually inherited the original "Dunnabeck" but sold it with a heavy heart when it became evident that she would never live in England again.
personal history has been separately recounted. She finished
her education at George Washington University, made two trips to Europe
travelling through various countries, became an American citizen in 1954, and
on November 2/1957 married in Ivy, Virginia, Richard Armstrong Poole of the
Department of State Foreign Service. They have one son, Anthony Hanbury Poole,
born February 6/1961, in Washington. A second son, Colin Rawnsley Poole as
born Jan 14/1964, in Washington, D.C.
Una's narrative is now resumed.
In 1956, Una married again, a long-time family friend and recent widower, Group Captain Alan Coatsworth Brown, D.S.O., O.B.E., D.F.C. Born in Winnipeg August 9/1914, he was educated at the University of Manitoba, Fort Gary, Winnipeg and became a flyer at Digby, Lincolnshire. He joined the Royal Air Force and served with distinction through World War II. Remaining in the RAF after the War, he was sent to various posts in Europe, latterly as Adviser to the NATO defence College in Paris, where Una and he spent two years. In 1960 he was posted to Washington where he is at present Chief Intelligence Officer, R.A.F., at the British Embassy.
His first wife, Ena Storey, died in England in 1956, leaving him with two daughters:-
Anna Coatsworth Brown, born August 7/1944 in Gerrards Cross, Middlesex
Josephine Charlotte Coatsworth Brown. Born October 25/1949 at Istanbul, Turkey.
Both girls travelled widely with their parents all over Europe, spending some time in England, Scotland, France, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Jugo-Slavia, Austria, Switzerland Germany, Holland, Belgium; and consequently had a cosmopolitan upbringing, acquiring familiarity with several foreign languages.
On returning to Washington in 1960 after two years in Paris, Una, Alan and the girls re-occupied Una's home "The Trees" where they now reside. Anna is a student at Hollins College, Roanoke, Virginia, while Josephine attends the Cathedral School at Washington.
On retiring from the R.A.F. in 1962 Alan formally dropped his surname Brown, simultaneously assuming a favorite Christian name John. He is therefore now John Alan Coatsworth, the latter being his mother's family name. His daughters and Una also embraced the change and are now all Coatsworths, Una calling herself Una Hanbury Coatsworth.
All the family love "Missing Acres" and are often welcome visitors.
Conrad Franklin Rawnsley
Married Elsin Little,
Daughters Dr Rosalind & Jane.
Rosalind at Worfield, Salop until abt 5/2002.
4/2002: Elsin at "Redwires", The Green, Burnham Market, Norfolk, PE31 8HF, 01328 738280.
David Rawnsley was a man of many parts. He was born in Sevenoaks, Kent in 1909 and on leaving school trained as an architect and engineer. In his early twenties he became involved in the film industry, and worked on many films during the thirties and forties as an art director. There are some very well-known films in his CV including 49th Parallel, One of Our Aircraft is Missing, They Flew Alone and In Which We Serve.
After the war he moved to Paris and opened a pottery there. It was in Paris that he first met Joyce Morgan, who was working in the city as a fabric designer. This was the beginning of a business relationship that was to last for many years.
Back in London in 1952 David and his wife Mary started up
the Chelsea Pottery in Radnor Walk, SW3. It was styled an 'open studio' - a
place where any potter could come to work and learn. The pottery was run on a
'club' basis, as had been the Paris pottery. Members paid five guineas (£5.25)
as an annual subscription and sixpence (2½p) an hour plus the same amount for a
pound of clay. Lessons were held in the evenings for amateurs with Joyce Morgan
as the main instructor.
In 1959 the Rawnsleys left for the Bahamas in search of a place to start up a new pottery in the sun. They found a large 18th century town house in Nassau. Joyce Morgan joined them there, sailing from England with five huge packing cases, the contents of which included, among other things, an electric kiln. There was no suitable clay in the Bahamas, and plans were made to import it from Jamaica, but there were serious problems with transportation; the clay had to come in rickety old banana boats that were not really up to carrying the extra weight. When the first batch arrived it proved to be of inferior quality with a very high sand content, so arrangements were made to import clay from Ireland. This was good clay with very plastic qualities, but a little too white, so iron was added locally to redden it up a little.
Joyce was not very happy in Nassau. She disliked the very closed community where gossip was the main interest, the climate, and particularly the termites that were eating the building. She stayed there for only five months before returning to England.
After a couple of years David moved on to open yet another pottery, this time in Mexico. Mary and the children came back to London and took up residence in Radnor Walk. David re-married; his new wife was a American doctor and they lived in California with frequent trips to the Isle of Capri where his wife's mother lived. It was on a solo trip to Capri in the early seventies when David died of a heart attack California with frequent trips to the Isle of Capri where his wife's mother lived. It was on a solo trip to Capri in the early seventies when David died of a heart attack.
Meanwhile, back in London, SW3, the pottery had been left in the hands of Brian Hubbard who went on to run Chelsea for nearly forty years with the help of Joyce Morgan, modeller Frank Spindler, Barbara Ross, Daphne Corke and a large number of decorators, trained in-house, who lasted for various lengths of time.
The pottery is best known for its highly decorated earthenware, the colour of the pieces being achieved by the use of painting and coloured glazes - a technique that has been referred to as 'inlay and overlay'. Joyce Morgan made all her designs in a book, and would open it at an appropriate page for each piece she decorated so that she did not have to do all the thinking again. For smaller pieces she sometimes made templates from paper or card and would engrave around them.
Chelsea Pottery became very popular with the rich and famous. Many leading actors would commission pieces to be given as presents to the other members of the cast at first-night parties. In the early sixties Brian met the Beatles in a television studio where they were both being interviewed. It was the day, he remembers, that they bought their famous high-collar jackets at Cecil Gee in Charing Cross Road. They stayed in contact and later Chelsea were to supply Christmas mugs for Paul McCartney for about twenty years.
Trade was good, and orders were rolling in from American department stores - Lord and Taylor and Neiman Marcus amongst others. A division was set up to produce slipcast wares; Ceramic Design, Chelsea. Frank Spindler produced models from which Brian Hubbard made moulds. As well as the slipcast products, Chelsea also found a good market for hand-made models. Most were made by Frank Spindler, but other people, notably Joy Hindmarsh, took their turn to help supply the ever increasing demand. Brian Hubbard and Damon, David Rawnsley's fourth child are known to have made some of the models. Judges, barristers, surgeons and dentists were made in the largest numbers, but fishermen, golfers, mermaids and other subjects are to be found.
The pottery had to move from its Radnor Walk premises in 1994 when the lease expired. Brian and Joyce desperately sought new affordable premises but had no luck. An offer was made by Moorcroft's to buy the company, but that would have meant a move to the north of England; something that neither Brian nor Joyce wanted. At the last minute a gentleman arrived out of the blue to save them. Richard Dennison bought the company and found new premises for them at nearby Ebury Mews. They occupied three stable units, installing the kilns downstairs and doing the throwing, modelling and decorating upstairs. There was haircord carpet on the floors and they laid sheets of hardboard to protect it.
At this time they were as busy as they had ever been, but the market was against them. The dollar/sterling exchange rate killed all their American trade, and they found they were working harder and harder for smaller and smaller returns. The lease on the Ebury Mews premises was for only three years, and it was non-renewable. Rents and rates were rocketing, so when the time came in 1997 they called it a day and the pottery closed.
From The Times, July 4, 2007
Art lover who cajoled many important contemporary artists
into producing affordable works for display in schools
Brenda Rawnsley persuaded some of the 20th century’s greatest artists – including Picasso, Matisse and Braque – to create original prints to be distributed to Britain’s schools. Her bold project for affordable modern art aimed to shape the tastes of a whole generation of postwar children who would otherwise have had little contact with fine art.
Rawnsley had little knowledge of art when she began the scheme in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War. But her husband Derek, who was killed in 1943, had before the war founded a small company, School Prints Ltd, which hired out Old Masters to schools with the aim of improving aesthetic standards.
The young widow took over the business and set about revitalising it by focusing on original works by contemporary artists which would be sold at low cost, rather than rented. Within a year, despite scarcities and paper rationing, she had persuaded artists including L. S. Lowry, John Nash, Julian Trevelyan, Hans Feibusch and Feliks Topolski to contribute works which she then set out to sell to schools.
She reached the artists with the help of Herbert Read, the noted art critic, who suggested artists for Rawnsley to approach. Although he was an anarchist and she had been a society debutante, they formed a successful partnership, united by an interest in education through art. Rawnsley contacted artists with letters like this one to Barnett Freedman: “We are producing a series of lithographs, four each term, for use in schools as a means of giving children an understanding of contemporary art. By keeping the price as low as possible, we are able to bring this scheme within the reach of all education authorities . . . I wonder whether you are interested in this scheme and if so whether you could send us a small rough for consideration.” The fee was £85, with a royalty of £5 per 1,000 prints sold.
The first two series, with print runs of 4,000 to 7,000 for each of the 24 prints, proved successful and were much appreciated by teachers. One director of education wrote that they had helped to “foster a love of beauty in the children” – though some schools thought the art too contemporary, and were perturbed by some of the images. “Maybe I haven’t grasped the ‘inner meanings’ or maybe ought to be more childlike,” a Birmingham teacher complained.
Emboldened, Rawnsley decided that the third series of prints would expose children to art from beyond Britain, and borrowed £10,000 with which to entice some of the great names of French painting. In June 1947 she hired a plane and set off for France with Raglan Squire (obituary, June 9, 2004 ), a friend of her husband who had become chairman of School Prints.
Arriving in Paris, she tracked down Braque in Montparnasse and offered him £100 up front and the same again on receipt, but he said he would only be associated with the scheme if other reputable artists were involved. Léger, however, immediately agreed. After meeting Picasso’s financial adviser, Rawnsley and Squire decided to fly to the South of France to try to speak to the artist himself.
Loitering on the beach at Golfe-Juan, they succeeded in “bumping into” Picasso, who invited them to lunch. “It’s all very simple when you know what you’re aiming at,” Rawnsley recorded at the time. Persuaded that the scheme was for the benefit of “les enfants du monde”, Picasso agreed, although he turned down an invitation to fly with them as he felt that his life and works were too precious to be put at risk.
After stopping in Perpignan, where an arthritis-stricken Dufy said he would try to do something with his left hand, they revisited Braque. He now relented, and a very frail Matisse agreed to do a papier déchiré. Rawnsley returned to England only a week after setting off.
After the delicate process of getting the artists to deliver, and much negotiation over production and transport, the “European series” of six prints was launched in 1949, also including a work by Henry Moore. The timing was fortuitous, as Sir Alfred Munnings, president of the Royal Academy, had just launched a vituperative attack on modern art, denouncing Picasso and Matisse by name.
The series won widespread press attention in the resulting furore, which continued in 1951 when Rawnsley set off on a sales trip to Australia, New Zealand, Canada and America.
Artists were able to shrug off the criticism. Braque stated: “Children are the more useful and sharpest critics. They understand us because they live in a world of fantasy similar to artists.” Children do seem to have liked the prints – one 14-year-old was quoted as saying: “Picasso does not paint too badly. I should like to try, too!” But not enough educationists were convinced, and commercially the scheme failed – Rawnsley was left with a large debt and stacks of unsold prints.
Brenda Mary Hugh-Jones was born in Cowley, Oxford, in 1916. Her father was part of the British administration in Egypt and her mother was a cousin of Anthony Eden. Her parents divorced when she was young, and Rawnsley spent holidays from her boarding school variously hunting with the Edens in Wiltshire or visiting her father in Cairo.
Although she did well academically, Rawnsley chose the debutante circle over Oxford and spent several years enjoying a leisured life in England and Egypt. But at the outbreak of war she was eager to enlist, becoming a clerk at the Ministry of Economic Warfare after walking out on latrine duty at an ATS officer cadet unit.
She met Derek Rawnsley in 1939 and they married in February 1941.
The young pilot was immediately sent to Cairo and, determined to join him, Rawnsley wangled her way into the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force and hurried through the officers course. She arrived in Cairo in January 1942 and it was during their time here that the couple formed plans to make prints for schoolchildren after the war. Derek Rawnsley was killed in an accident in February 1943.
Brenda Rawnsley spent the rest of the war working in Alexandria, Algiers and London, first for General “Jumbo” Wilson, Commander-in-Chief of the Middle East, then for Duncan Sandys. When the war ended, she devoted her drive and energy to realising the project she had concocted with her husband.
She carried on the original business of hiring out reproductions of well-known paintings to schools, and in the 1950s she expanded this to industry and then to hospitals. In 1953 she attempted, unsuccessfully, to sell sculpture to schools. She had joined the Fine Art Trade Guild in 1946, and became Master in 1961.
By the late 1960s Rawnsley began looking for buyers for the business. The Observer was running a scheme similar to school prints, whereby a new generation of artists such as Richard Hamilton, Elizabeth Frink, Joe Tilson and David Hockney were commissioned to produce original prints to sell to readers. In 1971 the paper agreed to sell the remaining stock of the European series. By this time the merits of the pieces were more widely recognised, and they sold well. The rest of the business was sold to the paper’s Middle East correspondent, Patrick Seale.
The remaining prints have now become highly collectible, and this year all 30 of the lithographs were exhibited at Pallant House gallery in Chichester. The School Prints, by Ruth Artmonsky, was published at the same time.
With the business sold, Rawnsley moved to Bury St Edmunds, where she became a librarian. On retirement she settled in Milford-on-Sea, Hampshire. She remained convinced of the importance of her scheme and in 1994 she commented that the situation in schools “is as desperate as it was after the war. I am utterly dedicated to the idea that the younger the child the better, because they do form ideas about shapes and colour at an early age.”
She was married for a second time to Geoffrey (Pete) Keighley, who predeceased her. She is survived by a son.
Brenda Rawnsley, managing director of School Prints Ltd, was born on July 31, 1916. She died on June 25, 2007, aged 90
Initial Issue Date: 11 July 2000
15/6/2001: resaved HTML from Word
23/10/2002: Additional data.
7/1/07: Chelsea Pottery
15/7/07: Brenda Rawnsley Obit.
Initial transcript: 12 Dec 1999
12/6/2001: resaved HTML from Word
15/10/2001: extra Saxton info.
22/9/2003: Ernest Wurtele info added
17/1/2006: Bobbie Middlemiss info.
6/8/2007: Minor additions & editing
23/9/2011: combined several Poole files of Uncle Chester’s
11/10/2015: edited for web frame