Railways, Rain Forest, and the Ashanti Goldfields

Ashanti Goldfields Corporation was founded in 1897 by Edwin Cade. Late in the year, principals of the company "dragged and carried 40 tonnes of equipment nearly 200km from the coast to begin exploitation of their new property in Obuasi, in Ghana (formerly known as the Gold Coast)" according to a company website.

The fourth and final Anglo-Ashanti War had just been fought in 1895-1896. After its conclusion, the corporation began devising methods of extracting gold via mining, as opposed to prospecting and then panning for gold found amid the quartz in the rivers.

In 1900, a failed Ashanti Uprising finally solidified British Colonialism in what is now Ghana after the capture of the throne of King Kwaku Dua III [right], the Golden Stool. At the conclusion of those hostilities, the Gold Coast officially became a British protectorate as of 1 January 1902.

According to Wikipedia: "By 1901, all of the Gold Coast was a British colony with its kingdoms and tribes considered a single unit. The British exported a variety of natural resources such as gold, metal ores, diamonds, ivory, pepper, timber, grain, and cocoa. The British colonists built railways and the complex transport infrastructure which formed the basis for the transport infrastructure in modern-day Ghana. They also built Western-style hospitals and schools to provide modern amenities to the people of the empire."

Another website, Mike's Railway History: A Look at Railroads in 1935 and Before, contains the authoritative 1914 writing of F. A. Talbot, who tells the gritty story (well worth reading in its entirety, by the way) of the Gold Coast's first railroad: "It was the discovery of gold which prompted the construction of the first railway on the Gold Coast. Intrepid prospectors braved the pestilential forests and diligently panned the up-country streams. They discovered traces of colour, and, following up the clues, at last struck the main reef of yellow metal at Tarkwa, some 40 miles from the seaboard. The news of the discovery precipitated the inevitable rush, as well as an inflow of capital, but it was no easy matter to gain the alluring gold belt. There were no facilities for transporting the essential heavy and cumbersome machinery to the claims, while the conveyance of the yellow fruits of exhausting labour to the coast was just as laborious. Incoming vessels had to discharge into small boats which ran the gauntlet of the heavy surf and dodged the sand-bars which littered the waterway leading to the interior. They crept up the river with considerable difficulty to a point as near the mining area as possible and there unloaded. The material then had to be tugged, pushed, and carried over rude tracks through the jungle to the mines. By the time the mines were reached transport charges had run away with £40 per ton."

The allure of gold, of course, still drew many potential investors. But there were other difficulties.

"When a nude stick planted by the surveyor has grown into a fully-fledged tree by the time the railway builder arrives, identification is by no means easy," says Talbot of the region's effect on mere surveying. "As the Gold Coast, from its hot, moist climate, is virtually a gigantic greenhouse, the undergrowth thrives amazingly."

Describing the conditions at the end of the 19th century, Talbot writes: "The shore of the Gold Coast is hemmed in by a thick belt of jungle, 150 miles or more in width. To venture into this huge, un-trodden forest demanded no small amount of pluck and determination. The exotic vegetation presented a solid barrier, through which advance could be made only by hacking and cutting, since the jungle was intersected by very few, narrow, and tortuous paths, trodden down by the feet of the natives."

He continues: "Disease was more to be dreaded than any form of hostility or accident. The surface of the ground is carpeted with a thick layer of decaying vegetation—the putrefaction of centuries—and the rainfall, which is severe, has converted this bed of leaves, branches, and dead-fall into a spongy, sodden mass, freely interspersed with pools and swamps, where the mosquito and other pests multiply by the million. Accordingly, malaria is rife; in fact, at that time it held the country more securely against a white invasion than the most cunning and determined tactics of the unfriendly natives."

Talbot opines: "No industrial concern could work under such conditions and show a profit. Accordingly it was decided to drive a railway from a convenient point on the coast to Tarkwa. After scouring the shore line of the Gold Coast from end to end, it was decided to create a terminal port at what was virtually an unknown spot, which then was little more than a native village—Sekondi. It is not a harbour, but merely a small, open bay; but it was the only choice."

Besides the heat, humidity, constant rainfall, uneven terrain, lack of a a local workforce, and jungle diseases, to get the railway through, almost everything necessary had to be shipped from England: "A vessel laden with supplies put out from Liverpool once every month while work was in progress. The commissariat was a heavy responsibility, bearing in mind the large army of toilers that had to be fed. But the arrangements were laid so carefully that no apprehensions ever arose under this heading, although now and again everything went awry from some unforeseen mishap, such as the total wreck of a supply steamer off the West African coast. Losses in landing at Sekondi, owing to the absence of harbour facilities, were considerable."

Of the beginning of the venture, Talbot writes: "The first section comprised some 40 miles, but it was as hard a 40-mile stretch as any engineer could wish to tackle. There was the densely-matted jungle, a fearful climate, a fiendish rainfall, and a comparative absence of gravel with which to carry out the earthworks. Englishmen, of course, were in demand to superintend operations; but it proved to be no white man's land in those early days. The deadly climate mowed them down like flies, while some of stronger physique, although they outwitted the 'old man with the scythe,' went raving mad."

In 1900, due to the unrest and uprising, workers from the railway were commandeered to work as porters for the military. Importing new workers from nearby countries was forbidden as it was feared that the new workers might join the rebellion. Work on the railroad came to a standstill.

After the fall of the Ashanti king, construction soon resumed and in May 1901, Tarkwa in the interior finally was linked to the coast. Eighteen months later, in late 1902, the railway had been extended another 86 miles, connecting it with the goldfields of Obuasi. Finally, in September 1903, rails reached distant Coomassie deep in Ashanti country.

Talbot concludes: "The metamorphosis of West Africa constitutes one of the most remarkable incidents in railway history. In few other countries where maps were non-existent, where the rainfall averages as much in a month as during a year in Great Britain, where the forest was untrodden, and where malaria reigned supreme, has so sudden and complete a change been wrought in such a short space of time. In 1897 Sekondi was a handful of straggling mud huts dotting the shore. To-day it is a busy terminal port with sidings, substantial administration buildings, a hospital, and other attributes to a busy growing centre."

Due to the adverse conditions, prevalent disease, and the onset of insanity, at least 10 supervising engineers oversaw the construction of the railway.

Once they reached the interior, "transportation charges were [soon] reduced from £40 to £5 per ton, and the effect was felt immediately. The heaviest machinery now could be brought up with ease and installed… Then the development of the mines went forward with a rush."

Before the advent of the railway, Ashanti Goldfields Corporation itself says: "In the first few years [of operation], new discoveries were continually being announced and the erroneous impression arose that many fabulously rich reefs existed beneath the corporation's property. That this was not in fact the case only became clear later, when a systematic survey was made and a reliable picture of the occurrences was obtained."

After the railroad linked the mining fields with the coast, there was the "start of a period of disillusionment. By 1904-5, shareholders dissatisfied with diminishing dividends were becoming sceptical of [earlier] promises of higher output. Disappointment was made keener by the high hopes that had earlier prevailed."

In 1906, leadership in Ashanti Goldfields changed, and "output was checked for a time in order to allow a vigorous shaft sinking and development programme to be carried out. Henceforth attention was to be directed increasingly to deeper mining. Profits were sacrificed for the next few years and ploughed back into the business. With a rail link to the coastal town of Sekondi, it was now possible to import new improved machinery, including winding engines and headgear. Stores and workshops were built, tramlines in the mines were extended to connect the different workings, and the surface infra-structure was generally much improved. There was slower progress underground, and the capacity of the new stamp mills was not taxed until the discovery in 1908 of an important deposit that came to be known as Justice's Mine. A few months later, the rich Obuasi shoot was cut at level 3 of the Ashanti mine."

Those two years of assessing and improving the mines and mining techniques, and the discovery of new veins of gold must still have required an army of workers and quite a few engineers.

We find that, despite my speculation just yesterday, it is likely that consulting engineer Gillmore Goodland was not in Sekondi on the Gold Coast to visit his brother Theodore. He was probably one of the unnamed but extremely important experienced engineers that allowed the business—today known as AngloGold Ashanti, working not just the Ashanti's Obuasi Mine, but many others throughout sub-Saharan Africa—to thrive even today.

Did he meet Theodore there in 1906? It's hard to say. With mining connections in Australia, as well as family members settling there in 1907, Gillmore in some way must have tipped off his South Seas sailor sibling, Theodore, about the money to be made shipping in and out of Sekondi.

By 1928, Sekondi became a sister city to nearby Takoradi, which had just had a deep water port constructed [left], but the best of Theodore's career was behind him by then. We don't know what claimed the master mariner's life in 1932 at the age of 51, but could it have been a disease picked up on the Gold coast from which he was finally unable to recover?

In his prime, Theodore must have been a valuable captain, able to ship goods in and out of the difficult and at times quite dangerous waters of Sekondi's so-called harbour.

Had he learned of this lucrative opportunity from his brother, Gillmore, who may have been lured away from mining interests in South Africa to help retool the mines in the Gold Coast's interior?

We don't actually know who arrived in Sekondi first: Able seaman T.T. Goodland or consulting engineer G. Goodland. Nevertheless, Sekondi seems to be an unusual and far-too-specific a place for both of these brothers to have connected with it coincidentally.

In addition, it seems highly unlikely that Gillmore Goodland dropped by for a brief vacation. He must have been invited, or perhaps he decided to see if he could become part of what was appearing to be quite a lucrative adventure.

Either way, Gillmore seems even more likely at this point to have been the monetary benefactor of his mother, Frances, and his brother, Cambridge law student Joshua Goodland.

Theodore Thomas Goodland, Master Mariner

Of anyone in the family, Theodore Thomas Goodland may be the most mysterious, looking back from the vantage point of 2011. He also was very likely the most interesting—the Goodland with whom I think I'd most like luncheon in Heaven.

So much of what anyone experienced 100 years ago is now shrouded in time. Unless details were meticulously recorded and carefully preserved, so much has been lost. That's particularly the case with young Theodore.

Theodore Goodland was born in the late spring (Apr-May-Jun) of 1881. He first appeared on a census form on 5 April 1891, listed as the 10-year-old son of Gillmore Goodland (meaning his birthday came before the 5th of April). Theodore is also listed as a "scholar." Again, it is likely he was studying his lessons at his father's school, which was probably then known as Withycombe School, and now known as Withycombe Raleigh Church of England Primary School.

Theodore would have been about 20 by the time of the 31 March 1901 census, but he doesn't appear in it. We pick up Theodore's adult life in much the same way we discovered his brother Ernest's: Theodore went to sea.

Australian archives record the Quathlamba of Auckland [pictured, right, and above, left] steaming into port at Sydney, New South Wales, from Kaipara, New Zealand, on 22 May 1903. Among crew members like 45-year-old book steward Choo Poo of China is recorded a Theodore T. Goodland, 22, out of Exmouth, Devonshire. His station is listed as "AB," Which I believe means "able seaman."

Later that year, the same ship departed Kaipara and sailed into Sydney on 10 August. Aboard was an "AB" named "Goodland, T.T."

And on 12 October, making the same run on the same ship from Kaipara to Sydney yet again, was T.T. Goodland, the 22-year-old from Exmouth.

Those are the only available records from the 20th century's first decade, but they are of great interest. First, they indicate a man working for a living, not seeing the world as a merchant seaman before finally coming ashore to make his mark on the world. While Kaipara to Sydney would be an exotic adventure to those gathered around the hearth back in England, making an identical run three times on 1903 smacks more of a mature seaman involved in his life's work, not a young cove looking for a bit of adventure before settling down.

Theodore, as of 1907, would have company near Kaipara [left] in the South Seas. His older brother Ernest and younger brother Kenny would arrive in Sydney aboard the HMS Miltiades. While we don't know much of Kenny's life before Australia, Ernest has already appeared on the 1901 census with his occupation listed as "sailor (mate)." In fact, we know that Ernest was working on the high seas as early as 1896, sailing as an apprentice aboard the Carnedd Llewelyn out of Liverpool. Both brothers settled down under, and Theodore suddenly might have had family nearby for the first time in years.

Interestingly, back on the 1891 census we found a widow, Emily Darling, boarding with the nuclear family of the senior Gillmore Goodland in Wythicombe, Exmouth. Darling was the wife, as we know, of the late Andrew H. Bromley, a London "Missionary to Foreign Sailors."

Is it merely a coincidence that Mrs. Darling found her way from London into the home of Gillmore Goodland? Ernest, Theodore, and Kenny were all attending school and living at the house with her. This is a 'chicken and the egg' puzzle: Did Mrs. Darling spin yarns of sailors weathering storms and battling pirates, inspiring the young trio of listening 'scholars,' or was it a family that had always lived near ports (Exmouth, Bristol, Cardiff) and that many relatives always had been seafarers—something that may have later led Mrs. Darling into their home?

As a matter of fact, there is a missing census record—1861—bearing the senior Gillmore Goodland's name. Let's rewind, though.

The 1851 census record shows us Gillmore as a young scholar himself, 9 years of age, dwelling in the home of his "accomplant" father and his mother, William and Elizabeth Goodland, 41 and 44 years old, in Tiverton, Tivert, Devonshire. He also lived with his sisters, Anna, 12, and Elizabeth, 5, as well as an 55-year-old aunt, Mary Goodland. Something, however, split the family.

By 1861, the dynamics changed for parents William and Elizabeth. The 1861 census records one of Gillmore's sisters, 22-year-old Anna, living with the family of an uncle, Alex B. Campbell, who was a vicar in Sittleham, Exmouth. His other sister, Elizabeth, 15, was living with her parents at Portsea, Hampshire, where her father, William Goodland, 54, is no longer an accountant, but a door-to-door "book hawker," and his spouse, 57 years old, is pointedly listed as a "book hawker's wife."

(The 1883 Year-book of the Church of England, published in Great Britain by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, descibes "book hawking" and the Book-Hawking Associations in England [pictured above, right]. Could this "educational" initiative taken up by Wiliam Goodland have been the younger Gillmore's foot-in-the-door into a career in education in a Devonshire Church of England school?)

Gillmore had disappeared from the U.K. census in 1861, at a time when he'd have been 19 years of age. In 1871, however, he was recorded as a young married man living in Withycombe Raleigh in Exmouth at the age of 29, with a brand new bride, Frances Mary Goodland (the wedding having been early in 1871) and a 16-year-old servant, Mary Hankin. His occupation is described as "schoolmaster."

In 1875, Goodland passed the Education Department's Christmas Examination (2nd Division) as a schoolmaster and went to work as a certified elementary school teacher at an unnamed "mixed" educational institution, undoubtedly Withycombe School in Exmouth [a composite image of the text appears, left]. By 1881, Gillmore and Frances had five young children, and Goodland was still working at the school.

Where the elder Goodland had been between 1851 at the age of 9, and when he reappeared on the census rolls at 29 in 1871, we do not know.

He surely was no longer with his parents at home in 1861, or at least not according to the census form. What's surprising, however, is that we don't find William and Elizabeth's 19-year-old son (and Theodore's future father), Gillmore Goodland, anywhere.

Is it possible—in fact, is it likely—that Gillmore Goodland, the elder, was at sea for at least some of those years? I can find no record corroborating it, but the only things we know for sure are that he was in school himself at 9, then teaching school at 29, and finally taking the certification examination at 33. That, and he somehow avoided being counted in the census in 1861.

I believe there's a very good chance he was aboard a ship in 1861, and that his adventures would have made him kindly disposed to the widow of a "Missionary to Foreign Sailors."

And while son Joshua Goodland would be inspired by his father to become an educator, his sons Ernest and Theodore would follow in his footsteps in a different way and put to sea themselves early in life.

In 1910, Theodore Goodland arrived in Southampton aboard the Kildonan Castle [pictured, right], bound from Durban, South Africa (via Madeira, Nadal, and the Cape ports) on 1 January 1910. He is listed as traveling from Cape Town to Southampton as a single English male "seaman."

This trip home to England originated on the continent of Africa, not Australia or somewhere in the South Seas. Perhaps he had sailed into Cape Town on a freighter and simply booked passage north from there instead of sailing the return voyage. There is no record, however, of Theodore subsequently sailing out of England.

The next records we have are not Theodore's records at all, but those of his wife, Marguerite. 1923 shows her steaming into Tilbury on 19 July 1923 aboard the Ormuz of the Orient Steam Navigation Co., whose voyage began in Brisbane.

Aboard we find Marguerite Goodland, 21 years old, along with Miss Mary Goodland, aged 10 ½ months [the manifest entry is seen below, left]. Having boarded the ship in "Port Suez," they gave their country of last permanent residence as "Egypt."

Their destination address was listed as "144 Ashley Gardens, Westminster, London." That is the address of Theodore's brother, Joshua Goodland, at the time, just before the latter bought into Warren Hill School in Eastbourne and became the "some time Head Master" of our interest here.

In 1925, Marguerite (listed on the manifest as "Goodland, Mrs. T.T.") disembarked from the Oxfordshire of the Bibby Line at Tilbury on 6 July. The ship had sailed from Rangoon, but she had once again boarded at Port Suez, and listed Egypt as her country of last permanent residence.

This time, however [a composite manifest entry id pictured, right], she was traveling with Miss Mary Goodland, then 2 ¾ years of age according to the manifest, as well as first-time traveler Miss Susan Goodland, aged 1 year. The family's destination was recorded as "Radfords Farm, Crawley, Sussex."

Interestingly, the family's "intended future residence" is checked off as "OTHER PARTS OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE."

On 7 November 1925, Theodore Goodland himself steamed into Liverpool aboard the Adda of the African S.S. Co., presumably to join his family in Sussex. His country of last permanent residence: "West Africa." Goodland was hailing from "Sekandi" on the Gold Coast of what is now Ghana. His address: "African Eastern Telegraph Co., Electra."

His occupation was: "Master Mariner."

In 1907, we met Theodore as a "seaman." By 1925, he is captaining his own merchant vessel(s) out of Sekondi on the Gold Coast [map, left].

His family called Egypt home and indicated their intent was still to live outside of England that year. Did Goodland marry the daughter of a British diplomat or expatriate in Egypt and "settle" there? Using the address of a telegraph company in Ghana indicates that the Gold Coast would not have been his permanent address.

Who owned Radfords Farm in 1925? Joshua Goodland?

If Radfords Farm belonged to Joshua, recently a high-end barrister from London, and he lived there, it would have been a 20-some-odd mile commute, one way, to Warren Hill. It would not seem too unusual for any spouses in the Goodland clan to have lived apart from each other, though, so why think Joshua would have been different? Perhaps Joshua's family lived in Crawley while he boarded at the school in Meads while it was in session. If he'd effectively banked his earnings as a barrister, that was certainly possible.

No matter who was residing at Radfords Farm in 1925, we don't have a record of any of Theodore's family leaving there. Howver, there is an interesting record in the 1926 telephone directory: "Horley.... 212   Goodland Miss Margaret   Radford's farm  Crawley."

We know about Mary and Susan Goodland, Theo's daughters, neither of whom could have ordered that phone. His wife was just 21 years old, as we've seen, in 1923. Could a 24-year-old Marguerite have used the name "Margaret" for this phone listing? And, even more strangely, why would she have called herself "Miss"?

This is obviously Theodore's sister, Margaret, who would have been 43 years old at the time and still unmarried. She had been a servant on a farm on the 1901 census, but by 1926 has her own phone at Radford's Farm [pictured today, left] and can host guests with young children from overseas. It seems to me that she is not merely a servant by 1926.

From 1929, Theodore Goodland himself has kept a phone at Sunoaks, Salthill, Chichester (Lavant 72), but given his proclivity to reside abroad, there's no reason to think he was sitting by it waiting for it to ring in that year. Perhaps his wife Marguerite has rethought the dcision to live in "other parts of the British empire" and has settled in Chichester with their daughters, full time.

On 10 August 1931, however, "Captain T.T. Goodland" sailed aboard the Gloucestershire of the Bibby Line [1931 brochure pictured below, left] and arrived in London. Its voyage originated in Rangoon, Burma, but Goodland is listed as traveling from "Sudan." That's likely Port Sudan on the Red Sea, south of Egypt.

He arrived as a passenger, listing his occupation again as "Master Mariner." This was undoubtedly his final ocean voyage.

Less than a year later, on 20 July 1932, Theodore Goodland passed away at the age of 51 at the Esperance Nursing Home while living at Sunoaks, Salthill, Chichester. Telephone records show that Marguerite kept a phone there through 1935 under the name "Goodland  Mrs. T.T.", although the number had changed to "Chichester 657."

Thoodore's estate was probated on 27 September 1932 to Marguerite Aimee Goodland, widow, Joshua Goodland, barrister, and Roland Carew, accountant at "£10096 6s. 11d." but resworn at "£11253 13s. 10d."

That's probably a very nice legacy, given the world at that point in time had plunged into a great economic depression, so we can assume that Captain Goodland had quite a bit of earning power. He clearly wasn't the master of some scow.

Marguerite Aimee Goodland may have been a woman Theodore met and fell in love with while in the South Seas. She later appears in voter records while living at 48 Gurnell Avenue in Hamilton, Waikato, New Zealand, in 1963. Born 7 June 1902, Marguerite passed away, however, in Watford, Hertfordshire, England, in 1990 at the age of 88.

We've looked at the relatively lucrative career of Theodore Goodland, however, to determine if he might have been the financial benefactor of his mother, Frances, in her home at Gresham House, London, and/or brother Joshua Goodland, who was able to travel the world and enjoy lengthy holidays while studying at Cambridge from 1900 to 1908.

Through 1910, however, Theodore was still an 'able seaman,' although bound someday to become a captain. The sights he must have seen—the people, the places, the cultures, the adventures—from the South Seas to Egypt to the Gold Coast of Africa would, I am certain, would be captivating. I wish I knew far more about him than I do!

It is unlikely, however, that Theodore was the economic force behind his widowed mother's care or his brother's elite Cambridge education [probate, left].

That only leaves one sibling: Gillmore Goodland's eldest son, Gillmore Goodland.

His tale is most interesting, and we'll take a look at it soon…

Tracking Ernest and Kenny Goodland across the Globe

A woman named Grace L. Goodland passed away in Merthyr Tydfil, Galmorgan, Wales, in 1964.

There are no U.K. records for the passing of any Margaret Esther Goodland. Perhaps she married, but there is no U.K. record of such a marriage. Margaret Goodlands with a different middle initial got hitched, and perhaps she is one of them: A transcription error.

There are death records for three women named Esther Goodland, in 1926 (Bridgwater, Somerset), 1943 (Bristol, Gloucestershire), and 1950 (Cheltenham, Glocestershire). All those locations are close geographically to some key locales in the lives of the Goodland clan—but they all can't be our Margaret. In addition, we have no knowledge of her being referred to as Esther instead of Margaret. With a mother named Frances, there'd have been no need to call her by a middle name.

The Goodland girls disappear into the mists of time. Let's take a look at some of the brothers of the clan to find out if any struck it rich by 1901 or so and could ensconce a widowed mother in London and fund brother Joshua Goodland's lengthy higher education.

Kenny Arnot Goodland was born in 1887 during the three-month span of "Apr-May-Jun" in the St. Thomas parish of Exmouth, Devonshire. Kenny was born just six years before his father, Gillmore Goodland, Sr., passed away at the age of 51 [right].

Frances Goodland, his widow, was left with a soon to be 6-year-old boy, Kenny, in January 1893. His brother, Theodore, would have been almost 12. Brother Ernest, would have been going on 15 years old. All three younger sons were all living at home and listed as "scholars" on the 1891 census [below, left].

Margaret would have been 10 years old and away at school in Yeovil when her father died. Spinster sister Grace would have been a ripe old 17 years old in 1893. She was still in Yeovil in 1891, but would she have finished her studies at Park School by 1893? Was she still at home? We just don't know.

Joshua would have been 17 years old, still living in Exmouth with his parents at the time of his father's death. Just two years before, during the 1891 census, Joshua's occupation was recorded as "school teacher's assistant" and he was at home when the count was made.

In 1891, there was also a 29-year-old Eliza Butland living with the family. Butland was Frances Goodland's maiden name, and she is listed as a "sister" who was "living on her own means." Was she yet another mouth to feed, or had she a fortune that allowed her to pay board?

The last entry on the Goodlands' 1891 census form [seen, left] is Emily Darling, a 55-year-old widow (apparently not a family member) from Cheltenham, Gloucestrershire, who was also "living on her own means." She, however, is listed as a "boarder." Emily was the widow of Andrew H. Darling, recently of 66 Bromley Street, London, but born in Northumberland, who was a "Missionary to Foreign Sailors." Would I be correct in assuming that a family taking in at least one boarder—and with no servants on hand—was not flush with money?

Back in 1881, the Goodland household had two boarders—both pupils at the elder Goodland's school—as well as a nurse and a general domestic servant.

This simply doesn't seem like it would have been a rich family by 1893, with a flock of children still in school, a deceased father, and a 44-year-old widowed mother.

Let's scratch young Kenny Goodland from the list of possibilities regarding the care in London of his widowed mother and Cambridge education of Joshua.

Kenny, who would have been about 14 years old, cannot be found on the 1901 census. He wasn't with his mother, visiting in Islington. And he doesn't show up at any home or as a boarder at any school.

He won't show up on the 1911 census rolls, either. On 27 July 1907, the HMS Miltiades, sailing from London under the command of A.H.H.G. Douglas, R.N.R., steamed into Sydney, New South Wales, bearing Ernest and Kenny Goodland as passengers [right]. The occupation of both is listed as "engineer." Would this imply some relatively advanced schooling achieved by both? It's hard to say. The last record we'd had of Ernest was the 1901 census from Glamorganshire, Wales, and his occupation was recorded as "sailor (mate)." I cannot say with any accuracy what the occupation "engineer" might have implied in 1907.

I can, however, find records that Ernest had visited Sydney at least once before. He sailed into the harbor there on 23 September 1896 at the age of 17 on the Carnedd LLewelyn of Liverpool, having departed from Sharpness, Gloucestershire. He is listed as a crewmember with an occupation of "APPTICE," presumably "apprentice."

1896 is just three years after Gillmore Goodland's death. Ernest, a 12-year-old "scholar" on the 1891 census, is at sea as an apprentice, perhaps implying there was no money to continue Ernest's education. In 1901, he'd become a sailor's mate, and in 1907 he claims he is an "engineer." I'm not sure exactly what to make of this career arc, but my best guess is that Ernest had not become a wealthy man between 1893 and 1907.

The 1914 Electoral Rolls of Victoria, Australia, record Ernest and Kenny Goodland living at Irymple in Mildura, Victoria. Kenny is listed as an "accountant." Ernest is listed as a "labourer." Let's scratch them both off the list of possible monetary benefactors of their mother, and brother Joshua.

Ernest would marry Winifred Margaret Owen in 1908 and they eventually would have three children (although Australian records are spotty at best) who would live on and off with Ernest or near their mother for many years, Owen Ernest Goodland, Gilmore Frank Goodland and Kenneth Garnier Goodland.

[Note (31 July 2011): We now know that Winifred sailed alone into Australia in 1908 to wed Ernest. She returned to Wales in 1911 with her son, Frank Gilmore Goodland, to visit family, Florence and Selina Owen, in Cardiff, Wales. They were recorded on the census that year. Thanks to John Owen, a descendant, for the insight! (Selina was John's grandmother.)]

Ernest would eventually become a director of International Harvester Co. in Australia.

Incidentally, Kenny (described on his enlistment papers as a "secretary") would enlist in Australian Imperial Force in 1915 and become a decorated war hero, having served first as a 2nd lieutenant and then as an temporary acting captain in the 29th infantry battalion, which embarked aboard the HMAT Ascanius on 10 November 1915.

He earned the Military Cross [description, left] on 18 March 1918 (according to the London Gazette of 3 June 1918), and was awarded the title of "Chevalier" upon being awarded the Order of the Crown of Roumania (with Swords) [pictured, below, right] early in 1919 (London Gazette, 20 September 1919). He also earned the French Medal of Honour—Gold [Medaille d'Honneur Avec Glaives (en Vermeil)] according to the London Gazette, 5 November 1920.

He also accrued the famous trio of the 1914-1915 Star, the British War Medal, and the Victory Medal. His courage and demeanor are mentioned and praised in numerous recorded despatches throughout his service on the Western Front and in Egypt during the Great War.

He would marry Constance Robinson in New South Wales in 1926. They apparently would have no children and live together on and off through Kenny's retirement. His last employment was as an "industrial officer" of Broken Hill Proprietary Co., Ltd., in Newcastle. The final document recording the couple is dated 1954. I have found no records of their passing.

It appears Kenny never returned to England.

However, the most interesting aspect of Kenny's military records, however, is recorded upon his embarkation in 1915.

His next of kin is listed as "Mrs. Francis Stirling, mother, Belliela, Mildura, Victoria."

It seems Frances M. Goodland, widow of Gillmore Goodland, Sr., relocated to Australia sometime after her residence at Gresham House, London (Joshua used her address there as his own "home" on a ship's manifest during travel in January 1908), and not only settled near sons Ernest and Kenny (who were still rooming together in 1914), but was already remarried to a gentleman named "Stirling" by that year. (It's unclear if "Francis" was his Christian name, or a clerical misspelling of hers.)

In examining Messrs. Ernest and Kenny Goodland, we don't find fellows who'd have been bankrolling both their mother and brother between their father's death in 1893 and the end of Joshua's education at Cambridge in 1908—a full 15 years—but we do find the children to whom Frances M. Goodland eventually gravitated for some sort of support, even if that support was not measured simply in dollars or pounds.

So, how did Frances end up in London? And how could Joshua afford to spend eight travel-filled years at Cambridge? We've narrowed the list of possible philanthropists down to two: Brothers Theodore Thomas Goodland and Gillmore Goodland, Jr. Theodore, as we've seen, was just 11 at the time of his father's death, but we'll take a look at his interesting and apparently somewhat lucrative life next time.

Stay tuned…

Meeting Misses Grace and Margaret Goodland

Despite my optimism about finishing the saga of Joshua Goodland, I just can't seem to get any traction. First of all, we're entering our annual block of state achievement testing. We've been preparing feverishly for the high-stakes FCAT test here in Florida, but the only thing tougher than teaching a full year's worth of material in just 7 months would be learning it in that short amount of time!

In addition, I'm still stalled and wondering where Joshua Goodland's money came from, not only for his eight-year Cambridge education, but for the daily living expenses and costly holidays enjoyed during that time.

Just when I think I've covered all of the possibilities, something new crops up!

This time, it's a new sibling: Margaret Esther Goodland, who would have been 18 years of age at the time of the 1901 UK census, and 23 years old in 1906 (a date fixed in my last entry ascertaining Joshua's continued residence at Cambridge until at least then).

I did hedge in my speculation last time: "Frances Goodland gave birth to at least six children who had survived infancy, listed giving their approximate ages in 1906: Gillmore, Jr. (34), Joshua (32), Grace L. (29), Ernest Talbot (27), Theodore Thomas (25), and Kenny Arnot (18)."

So, make that: Gillmore, Jr. (34), Joshua (32), Grace L. (29), Ernest Talbot (27), Theodore Thomas (25), Margaret Esther (23), and Kenny Arnot Goodland (18).

There's a Grace Leviah Goodland appearing in Merthyr Tydfil, Glamorganshire, Wales [seen, right], during the 1911 census (although right now I can't access the actual census document), so I am uncertain what her situation there might have been. She also appears to have been too young: 28. There is also a Margaret Goodland showing up during that same census in Edmonton, Middlesex, almost 10 miles north of the City of London proper (I haven't access to an address, occupation, or household for her, either).

In lieu of seeing the actual documents, my best guess is that Grace was living in Wales, and might have been married at the time of the 1911 count.

The earlier 1901 census recorded Grace as a visitor to the home of 54-year-old Edwin Lee, managing director of a brickworks in Cardiff, Glamorgan, Wales. Lee's eldest son, Sidney, 25, was of the same age as Grace on that day, 31 March 1901. Documents show that a 'Grace Goodland' was soon married in the summer of 1901 in Glamorgan, Wales, and that a 'Sidney Lee' also was married during the exact same time frame in the very same locale.

Were they wed in 1901? And were they still united by 1911? It's difficult to say. 1911's Grace Leviah Goodland obviously still uses the surname "Goodland." I am unaware as to what the possibilities might have been regarding a married British woman using her father's surname after marriage at the time in Wales. And without a look at the census form, we can't say with whom she was residing—or what she was doing as an occupation.

In 1901, Grace Goodland was listed as a visitor in Cardiff, and as having no occupation at the time. She was in the company of her younger brother, Ernest, then 22, whose occupation was given as "sailor (mate)." Both hailed from Exmouth, Devon.

While I do believe it is possible that Grace, in the time between the 1901 and 1911 censuses, came up with an occupation (or a husband) that could have provided money allowing her mother to move to Gresham House, London, and her brother, Joshua, to spend eight leisurely years at Cambridge, I also think it is extremely unlikely.

If she did, indeed, marry Sidney Lee, why would a man who had been living at home modestly with his family until the age of 25 suddenly start throwing money at his in-laws? And if this 1901 visitor's name later remained Grace Goodland because it was another Grace Goodland who was married that summer of 1901, what line of work might Joshua Goodland's sister—a single woman in Wales at the turn of the 20th century— have entered that would have supported not only herself, but her mother and her globe-trotting brother?

Grace had a fine education. She was recorded in the U.K. census of 1891 as a 15-year-old student boarding at Mrs. Martha Bennet's well-regarded Park School [the original boarding house is pictured, left] in Yeovil, Somerset, an institution that had opened its doors in 1851 and which still maintains an excellent reputation. Is it possible Grace learned skills that would have become lucrative by 1911?

Surely. But in 1911, we also find out that her brother, Gillmore, Jr., and his wife, Kathleen, have an infant named Gillmore Desmond Goodland (called Desmond), age 1, who is being cared for in Merthyr Tydfil. Where? I can't say exactly, at least not without seeing the document itself, but is it safe to conclude that little Desmond is being cared for in Wales by his father's sister, Grace?

The family of Gillmore Goodland, Jr., has older children: Kathleen, 10, and Joan L., 9, who are listed as being in Godstone, Surrey, on census day, 2 April 1911. The Goodlands had a home at Hoving Shaw, Woldingham, Surrey, at the time.  However, Gillmore, Jr., and his wife, Kathleen, seem to have been abroad in early 1911, visiting the United States, but likely having spent more time in Mexico (and Gillmore likely spent some time in a Mexican jail cell). They finally steamed back into Liverpool on 5 July 1911 on the Campania of the Cunard Line, having departed New York City some time before.

Would I be wrong in assuming that daughters Kathleen and Joan could have been at school in Surrey, or perhaps living with a neighbour named Edmund Stephenson, a rubber merchant?

Stephenson and his wife may have offered Kathleen and Joan a place to stay while their parents were away. They may also have been boarding at a nearby school in Surrey. Again, seeing the actual census document would answer many questions!

Anyway, if Grace herself had time to look after her young nephew Desmond Goodland, she was unlikely to have been the lynchpin in any venture that provided a great deal of money that she then could have lavished on her family. It seems that, if Grace had been simply paying someone else, a relative stranger, to care for Desmond while the baby was in Wales in 1911, the Goodlands could have found someone to do exactly that for them back in Surrey!

(For that matter, why wouldn't Gillmore and Kathleen have left Desmond with brother Joshua's wife Florence, who was in Hitchin, Hertfordshire, with Joshua's own 10 ½-month-old daughter, Josephine Mary Goodland, and a nurse at the time? That is, if they were looking strictly for kin to provide Desmond's care?)

The bottom line: It simply doesn't appear that Grace Goodland could have been the financier behind Frances Goodland's rooms at Gresham House in London and any economic assistance with Joshua's Cambridge degrees.

Grace's sister, Margaret? 1891 finds her the youngest boarder, aged 8 years, at Park School in Yeovil, along with older sister Grace.

The 1901 census [below, left] hurls that eight-year-old into the future and adult life rather quickly. She then lived in Blandford, Dorset, with the family of a farmer, Owen C. Richards, who resided at Whatcombe Farm with his wife, Ellen, and four children, ages 9 to 14. There were two servants in the house on 31 March, along with the children's governess: 18-year-old Margaret E. Goodland of Exmouth, Devon.

No, Margaret was a working girl on a Dorset farm in 1901, not someone who was footing the bill for her brother Joshua's further education and world travels. By 1911, as mentioned above, we find her in Edmonton, Middlesex, still using the name Margaret Goodland, presumably still unmarried. What she was doing there is known only to those with access to the document itself.

I'm loath to assume that these girls, Grace and Margaret, are the only two sisters of Joshua Goodland, but they seem to be right now. Neither of them seems to have become wealthy by the turn of the 20th century.

Did Joshua somehow fund his entire education and his holidays by drawing up the odd plan for builders around Cambridge when he wasn't studying law, coaching law, or traveling the world? Did his mother actually inherit enough from Joshua's father to live in the center of London after her husband's passing in Exmouth in 1893?

Before we jump to any conclusions, let's take a look at Joshua's brothers and their fortunes as the 19th century faded into memory.

Stay tuned…

“Follow the money”—William Goldman, 'All the President's Men'

After a much-needed "fix" of Opening Day baseball—and isn't it ironic that the contest of my greatest interest was played in Philadelphia amid 41°F temperatures and a frigid winds that starched the pennants?—Spring finally has sprung in my mind and I'm ready to return to the life of Joshua Goodland.

Goodland is mentioned in the 1906 edition of The Cambridge Yearbook and Directory: "Goodland, Joshua. Trinity Hall. 2nd Class Law Trip., Part I., 1902. 2nd Class Law Trip., Part II., 1904. 20, Trinity Street, Cambridge."

So Goodland was still residing at 20 Trinity Street [as seen today, left] when this was published, having received his bachelor degrees, and was working on his M.A. This is assuming that, in 1906, one actually needed to be studying at the university to earn an advanced degree. Twenty-three years earlier, we know the Rev. Barton R. V. Mills earned an 1883 Oxon Master's degree which "required no further study or residence" at Oxford at that time.

Goodland's entire time at Cambridge wasn't spent with his nose to the proverbial grindstone, however. Vyvyan Holland, in his autobiography, Son of Oscar Wilde, reminisces: "Trinity Hall specializes in Law and has provided the Bar with many of its greatest lawyers," and Holland and Goodland were to be among them. He nostalgically continues: "Having been duly entered as an undergraduate at Trinity Hall, I spent the remainder of the Long Vacation at Seaford, with Goodland and another Law coach. And there I had the misfortune to learn to play golf, an affliction from which I have never wholly recovered."

We already know that Goodland and Holland, along with Australian-born school mate Peter Wallace, traveled to Sweden and Russia as well as spending time hunting in Quebec. This additional "Long Vacation" is interesting for a few reasons.

First, we find further evidence of Goodland being an avid sportsman. Holland's specific use of the first-person singular implies that Goodland at the time was already acquainted with the 'good walk, spoiled,' and (Goodland being ever the teacher) may have even been Holland's first coach on the links.

It also forces one consider the economic aspects of that long holiday in Sussex, though, as well as Goodland's other vacations. While I am aware that costs then were nowhere near what they would be now, he was still the son of an elementary school teacher. No census shows Joshua's father, Gillmore Goodland, Sr., as having been a "Head Master," the family did not live at the school (in fact, we don't know the name of Goodland's institution), and neighbors of the Goodlands through the senior Gillmore's death in 1893 are described uniformly as laborours, plasterers, carpenters, grocers, tailors, retirees, and a wine merchant's assistant, according to census records. Could the widow and family, especially with the father deceased, have had the means to send a working age son off to Trinity [pictured, right], especially with younger children in the brood?

Between 1893 (when he was about 20) and 1906, Joshua went to Cardiff, Glamorganshire, Wales (to spend several years as an apprentice to architect G. E. Halliday), was briefly practicing architect himself in 1899, and, in 1900, he enrolled at Cambridge, studying law.

1906 found Joshua still at Cambridge, and enjoying golfing, shooting, and traveling—taking, in fact, at least one trip around the world during those years—before he actually began practicing law after earning his Master's in 1908. During those years, he was using his widowed mother's address at Gresham House, London, as his "home address" for at least part of that time.

With a mother apparently ensconced in London just north of the Temple, and her son Joshua studying law for eight years (and traveling around the world between lectures), someone must have had some real money, somewhere.

To understand fully Joshua Goodland's lengthy experience at Cambridge, it's probably necessary to adhere to the advice given in this entry's title (from the film All the President's Men): "Follow the money."

It's possible that Goodland was doing architectural work on the side to earn some cash. Still, could it have been enough to pay for school, lodging, and his first class "saloon" tickets on voyages circumnavigating the globe? Add in the hotels, the meals, and the entertainment at exotic locales—I don't envision Goodland, Holland, and Wallace booking austere stays in monasteries, hostels, or cloisters while ashore after having traveled first-class—and it seems that doing enough plans for small builders as a side line might have made it quite difficult to keep up with his studies. After all, I understand Cambridge somewhat of a rigorous academic institution!

There simply are no probate records available to me that would indicate what sort of legacy school teacher Gillmore Goodland, Sr., might have left to his widow and children. I am an elementary school teacher, though, and it is no "get rich quick" scheme...

The 1901 census records the elder Goodland's widow, Frances M. Goodland, 55, as a woman "living on [her] own means," and visiting a friend at 358 Holloway Road in Islington [pictured today, upper left]that day, 31 March. The only resident at 358 on the census form is the house's "Head," Edith Adams, 32, born and residing in Islington, whose occupation is described as "assistant editor," but to which the boldly-scripted word "author" has been added. (Is this Edith U. Adams, author of 1925's The Honourable Philip [A tale.], or Edith C. Adams, author of Idylls of Love and Life, back 1893? It would seem to have been the latter, due to the publication dates, but "author" need not imply the writing of novels. Periodicals were paying writers as well as assistant editors. Perhaps a long-awaited novel came later.)

Sifting through U.K. records for an "Edith Adams" is as needle-in-a-haystack daunting as searching for a "George Mills." I lean toward the above author having been Edith U. Adams, as I have found a record of a woman with that exact name marrying a fellow named Walter H. Ellis in the summer of 1936. I can find no other record that I can be certain belongs to either of them, however.

The reason I suspect Edith U. Adams is that her marriage took place in Glamorganshire, Wales—a place, as we will continue to see, that was and is very much associated with the Goodland family! (Interestingly, Edith U. would have been approximately 63 at the time of that marriage, if she is, indeed, the author/editor above.) But there is no reason at this point to believe that Edith Adams (or anyone in Glamorgan; Merthyr Tydfil is seen right) was funneling any money toward anyone in the Goodland family in 1901.

There is no documentation regarding where the visiting Mrs. Goodland above actually lived in the early part of the 20th century, save the address used in Joshua's ship manifests, but she was clearly on her own. Had she inherited enough money from her late husband to allow her both to live in London and to fund her son Joshua's education and travel?

Perhaps. But Frances Goodland gave birth to at least six children who had survived infancy, listed giving their approximate ages in 1906: Gillmore, Jr. (34), Joshua (32), Grace L. (29), Ernest Talbot (27), Theodore Thomas (25), and Kenny Arnot (18).

We'll take a look at the fortunes of each of them, as the 19th century careened into the 20th, to see if any of them could have been the source of the money that was allowing Joshua to attend Cambridge and his mother to live in town by her own means. And what an interesting group these children are!

See you next time!