New Information: Mr Gladstone's, Eaton Gate Preparatory, and Eaton House Belgravia

This message (below) arrived from Bill and Susan Miller of Watford, England [left], regarding the possibility of the contemporary Eaton House School having once been Eaton Gate Preparatory School, employer of George Mills during or around June 1938, when the institution was mentioned in George's dedication to his second novel, King Willow:


We have just stumbled across your website researching George Mills and asking for information re Eaton Gate school. We have an interest in the same school as my wife Susan is the granddaughter of Robin Gladstone, and we have been trying to find out the connection between him and the school in Cliveden Place, Belgravia known as "Gladstone's".

I think you mention that Harold MacMillan [pictured as a schoolboy, right] was educated at Gladstone's early in the 20th Century, but it came to our attention through the memoirs of Tony Benn, the veteran Labour Party politician and former Cabinet Minister, who was also educated there in the 1930s. Curiously he mentions that Mr Gladstone was still active at the school until it was sold in 1937 and moved to Eaton Gate. The Eaton House School website mentions the move from Cliveden Place to Eaton Gate in 1937 so I don't think there is any doubt that Eaton Gate and Eaton House are one and the same school.

What we do find puzzling is Tony Benn's assertion that Mr Gladstone was active at the school in the '30s. This we find puzzling because from 1920-1929 he was, as you mention, owner and headmaster of the Hall School in Hampstead, London. Our family records show that he probably left the Hall on his marriage and took some time off to embark on a round the world cruise with his wife. Curiously however, my father-in-law was actually born in Switzerland, so we are wondering if there is a George Mills connection here, if he later settled at Glion after working for Robin at The Hall. Could Robin have worked for a short period in Glion with Mills?

On their return to England the Gladstones settled in East Grinstead, Sussex, where he purchased another school, The Abbey [pictured below, left], which he ran until 1969. We are a little unsure of the dates here - it is just possible this didn't happen until 1937, in which case he could have been back at "Gladstone's" from about 1930-1937. It also seems unclear as to where T S Morton was at this time. The Eaton House website seems to suggest his ownership and presence at the school was continuous throughout its history until it was sold in 1959. Our own theory is that the Gladstone family had ownership interests in all these schools, and that Morton was an employee and not owner, and hence may have moved from school to school.

I am not sure if any of this helps you with the life of George Mills, but we have been intrigued by the connections and will continue our own researches into Gladstone's, and to see if we can turn up any more information both on the school and on Mills. We would equally be interested to know if you have found any further information on this subject since your last postings.

I have copied a couple of links in to The Hall school website, and to the Abbey School alumni website. Also the reference to Tony Benn's book.

http://www.hallschool.co.uk/home
http://freespace.virgin.net/abbey.school/index.html#top

Tony Benn "Dare To Be A Daniel" published by Random House, London (paperback version) 2005. pp 94-97

Best wishes

Bill Miller
Watford, England


Thank you so much, Bill and Susan, for taking the time to write and share your information!

The reference they cite does, indeed, provide additional evidence for the current Eaton House Schools having been the "Eaton Gate Preparatory School" mentioned by George Mills in his 1938 dedication [seen below, right].

Why did the school change names? It seems unlikely that George Mills and his editors at G. G. Harrap & Co. all would have used the incorrect name for a relatively prestigious institution accidentally, especially if George had been employed there. The name change does seem to have gone undocumented, however, as did the change in names when the school moved from Cliveden place (and it was referred to as "Gladstone's") to Belgravia.

Although, perhaps we are being presumptuous in believing that Mills did teach there. He dedicates King Willow "to the headmasters, staff, and boys" of the school without actually attesting to the fact he was ever an employee.

Still, we know that Mills had taught at Windlesham House School, another prestigious institution, and dedicated his first novel, Meredith and Co., to that school, as well as to schools in Meads, Windermere, and Glion where he also had taught. Would it be odd for Mills to have dedicated this book to his local prep school, even though he was not on the staff in any way? It seems more likely that he worked there, at the very least as an occasional substitute for teachers who were indisposed.

Despite polite entreaties for assistance in academic research, Eaton House Schools has not, as far as we know, delved into any archival material that might shed light on the change of names and/or whether or not George Mills served on the staff.

This message was received from Eaton House Belgravia on 10 May 2010:

Thank you for your enquiry. There is a possibility that there might be a reference in one of our old school magazines.I will have a look and let you know.

Regards,
Lucy Watts

Miss Lucy Watts
Headmistress
Eaton House School
3-5 Eaton Gate London


Later , on 21 July 2010, this message was received:

The current owners,The Harper family,took over in 1977/78. I am not sure about your other queries but I will pass them onto Mrs Harper,via her son-in-law,Rupert Back.

Regards, Lucy


And I have never heard back from Back.

For whatever reason, Mills interestingly did dedicate his second book to the school, and not to his wife, Vera, nor anyone in his family.

One small but also extremely interesting aspect of the above message for the Millers is the possibility of there having been a connection between Robin Gladstone's birth in Switzerland and George's temporary employment in Glion, followed by their subsequent connections to the preparatory school in Eaton Gate.

If any readers have better luck communicating with Eaton House Schools, please let us know. And if you have any information on Robin Gladstone, I would be delighted to pass it along directly to the Millers. Thank you in advance for your assistance!

Visiting Warren Hill School, Eastbourne, circa 1928 – 1931

While plumbing the depths of the military file of George Mills during the Great War, another message from an old friend was put on the proverbial back burner. A couple of weeks ago, Michael Ockenden of the Eastbourne Local History Society e-mailed with some news and some images. These images recalled our indistincy knowledge of the whereabouts of Mills during the period from 1922 when he ostensibly departed Oxford University without a degree, on through to Oxford University Press's publication of his first children's novel in 1933, which was presumably done while George and his wife, Vera, were living in London.

Let's take a look at Michael's message:

"Hello Sam:

Eastbourne Local History Society has been given some photographs of Warren Hill School. They were taken between 1928 and 1931. Alas no shots of George Mills but we've found one of the headmaster, Mr J Goodland, to whom Meredith and Co was dedicated. There is another of a previous headmaster, Mr F R Ebden. A local street directory gives Ebden as joint principal with Mr J Goodland in 1929.

According to street directories, the principals in 1925 were M A North and F R Ebden; in 1929 they were F R Ebden and J Goodland; in 1932 Joshua Goodland is the sole principal; in 1933 the sole principal is H E Glanville. (I have not seen a directory for 1930 or 1931.)

By the way, an undated leaflet (not part of the album of photos) published by the school shows the sole principal as Joshua Goodland MA (Trinity Hall, Cambridge). This leaflet must have been published after the departure of Ebden in 1931, so probably in 1931 or 1932. There is a list of teaching staff and Mills is not mentioned.

Another photograph shows a woman and is captioned, "Jim" Goodland. She seems quite a bit younger but could have been the headmaster's wife, sister or perhaps a daughter. She is not mentioned in the leaflet and so was not a member of the teaching staff.

Is there a school dog in Meredith and Co? There are several photographs in the batch showing a dog called "Tiny".

With best regards

Michael Ockenden
Eastbourne Local History Society"


We've had a chance to look at the history of Warren Hill School in the past. To review, George Mills wrote in the dedication to his 1933 book, Meredith and Co., "To MR. J. GOODLAND, sometime Head Master of Warren Hill, Eastbourne; to the STAFF AND BOYS OF THE SAME SCHOOL, and to those of WINDLESHAM HOUSE, BRIGHTON, THE CRAIG, WINDERMERE, and the ENGLISH PREPARATORY SCHOOL, GLION, among whom I spent many happy years, this book is affectionately dedicated."

Now, we've read that dedication several times before. My assumption—and it may be incorrect—is that Mills listed Warren Hill School first because it was most proximate in time to the publication of the book. I know if I wrote a text and thanked my employers, I would thank my current employer first, and by name. I would probably do the same if I was currently unemployed and was planning on using that most recent employer as a primary reference.

However, Mills simply may have listed the schools in chronological order, Warren Hill (whose headmaster possibly gave him his first job as a schoolmaster) and the English Preparatory School at Glion last. Or, just the reverse: His most recent experience at Warren Hill, dating back to getting his feet wet, so to spoeak, as a novice in the snows of Glion.

We do know the opinion of respected Windlesham House Association historian, Dr. Tom Houston, who wrote: "[Mills] taught at three other schools probably after Windlesham; viz; at Warren Hall, Eastbourne (a 19th century school closed in 1930s or 1940s); at The Craig, Windermere (founded 1899); and at the English Preparatory, GLION."

His speculation is likely based, at least in part on this bit of information from the school's archives: "During summer 1935 he visited Mrs Charles, then in Springwells, Steyning, W. Sussex, and told her he had written a book 'largely about Windlesham', published by O.U.P. 'He had been at 2 or 3 schools since, but is very faithful to Windlesham', she said."

He concludes: "My guess is that Mills came to the school soon after leaving university to teach English or 'English subjects'; that was a junior appointment, seldom held for long."

Assuming that Mrs. Charles was reasonably correct in her guess of "2 or 3 schools" after Windlesham, that very probably kicks Windermere and Glion into the post-1926 period of George's career. Warren Hill, however, still may have come before Windlesham in the chronology. If so, though, why would Windlesham have had a record of George's alleged degree (BA Oxon), but not of his prior teaching experience in nearby Eastbourne.

While it is possible that Mills worked at Warren Hill before Windlesham, one has to defer to Dr. Houston's opinion based on his assessment of the primary sources. Mills must have joined the staff at Warren Hill after departing Portslade.

Laboring now under the opinion that one works close to home, and in failing at that, then has to travel farther and farther afield, I estimate that Mills taught at Windlesham, Warren Hill in Eastbourne, The Craig at Windermere, and the English Preparatory School in Switzerland, in that order.

Even allowing for just one year in Cumbria and one year at Glion, and those being 1931 and 1932 respectively, that puts Mills at Warren Hill in the neighborhood of 1927 – 1930.—and this meshes perfectly with the date of the "list of teaching staff" that Michael mentions above.

By 1933, according the information above, Joshua "Jim" Goodland is no longer listed as a principal of the school, perhaps explaining George's description of him as being "sometime Head Master."

You can see the photographs Michael sent throughout this post. Perhaps I am being overly nostalgic about the past (indeed, a depicted past from before my birth), but it is easy for me to see (and the feeling is almost palpable when one reads his books) why relatively idyllic images such as these, etched in his memory, must have seemed to Mills to have been his halcyon days.

Oh--and Uggles, a bulldog, was an extremely important and lovable character in Meredith and Co. and its sequel, King Willow. Even though there had been a gog, Tubby, at Windlesham, I actually would be surprised if I was told that Tiny [pictured, right], Warren Hill's dog, had done nothing to inspire some of Uggles's shenanigans.

Once again, I am indebted to Mr. Ockenden and the entire Eastbourne Local History Society for their thoughtfulness, generosity, and kindness.

Found: W. E. Mocatta and the English Preparatory School in Glion

As we wait for the resolution of Robert Horace Walpole's appeal of the third Valerie Wiedemann v. Walpole trial, let's divert ourselves and briefly examine an unrelated event that occurred during the duration of those three trials: The birth of William E. Mocatta, a man who would seemingly have had at least some influence on the actual subject of this blog, George Mills.

Mocatta was born in December of 1890 in Lancashire of parents Henry and Katherine Mocatta, and his name appears as an infant on the rolls of the 1891 U.K. census. Little is known of Mocatta, an Oxford graduate holding an M.A., until the London Gazette in 10 June 1916 reports his promotion to captain in the West Yorkshire Regiment [pictured, upper left] back on 8 November 1915.

After the First World War, Mocatta married his wife, Joan Winnifrede Spain, in Westminster on 31 July 1920. One might have expected Mocatta, still calling himself "Captain," to have become upwardly mobile in his chosen profession, the military. That, however, is not how he became associated with George Mills. At the time of his marriage, Mocatta lists his profession as "Captain, General Reserve of Officers." At some point after his service in the First World War, Mocatta took control of a boys' school in Switzerland.

By 1934, just a year after the publication of George Mills's first book, Meredith and Co., that educational institution for boys aged 7 to 14 began to advertise in the London Times. The English Preparatory School of Glion boasted having "Captain W. E. Mocatta" as its headmaster, and openly trolled for students in the United Kingdom in both advertisements of its own [pictured left, from 17 April 1934], as well as piggy-backing onto the adverts of recreational facilities in the area above Montreux [seen below, right, from 26 May 1934]. In fact, Mocatta's presence seems to have been the institution's real "selling-point."

In the dedication of Meredith and Co., Mills wrote: "To MR. J. GOODLAND, sometime Head Master of Warren Hill, Eastbourne; to the STAFF AND BOYS OF THE SAME SCHOOL, and to those of WINDLESHAM HOUSE, BRIGHTON, THE CRAIG, WINDERMERE, and the ENGLISH PREPARATORY SCHOOL, GLION, among whom I spent many happy years, this book is affectionately dedicated."

Mills's book was published in 1933, before these advertisements that appeared in the pages of the Times, but that obviously does not mean that the school had just sprung into life in 1934. As previously ascertained, Wells Lewis, the son of American novelist Sinclair Lewis, had attended school there back in 1924, according to the collected letters of the elder Lewis.

Mocatta may not yet have been headmaster at the time of Wells Lewis's attendance in the previous decade, but he likely was by the time George Mills, possibly still claiming to be an Oxford grauate, was added to the teaching roster. Mills listed the institution last, and seemningly then most proximate in time to his 1933 publication of Meredith and Co.

Mills, as we know, spent 1925-1926 at Windlesham House, and subsequently taught at Warren Hill School, The Craig, and the English Preparatory School in Glion, Switzerland, presumably in that order. Can we assume that Mills taught on the continent somewhere between 1930 and 1932? His father, Barton, passed away in 1932, and that would seem to have been a time when George would have returned to London. Possibly endowed with an inheritance and with an inclination to begin putting his experiences in teaching down on paper, Mills probably put down roots in London again after his Alpine teaching days.

Mocatta later passed away "in hospital" on 25 February 1944 of what the Times describes as "illness resulting from service abroad." Mocatta had become a major in the meantime, and presumably wasn't serving in Glion when he became ill, what with the Second World War grinding into its fifth year and his death attributable to his "service."

It seems likely that Mills had departed Glion upon the death of his father in 1932 and was probably on good terms with then-Captain Mocatta, a fellow Oxonian. The latter's death in 1944 might have been simply another straw that was breaking the proverbial camel's back for an already ill Mills. After all, Mills had lost his wife, Vera, during the war in Exmoor on 5 January 1942, and suffered the passing of young friend and muse Terence Hadow on 18 March 1943 in combat in Burma.

Remember that Mills, aged 44, had returned to active duty in the military himself at the onset of aggressions in WWII, but had soon relinquished his commission as a second lieutenant on 3 November 1943 "on account of ill-health." Mills would not have been the only Britisher to suffer continual tragedy during the war years, but something in it all caused him not only to withdraw from the armed forces, but from having been an author. The books he published in 1939, the year he returned to the army, were the last he'd ever pen.

The war seems to have been too much for George Mills.

We know Mills died in 1972 while living in Devonshire with his aging, spinster sisters. How much the death of Major Wm. E. Mocatta [Times obituary, seen below, right] played upon his psyche near the end of the war is open to conjecture. Perhaps he never even knew of the Major's passing, and the passing of his mother, Edith Mills, in the waning months of 1945 had a far greater negative impact on his future.

Still something, or some series of events, turned Mills from a gregarious and convivial young schoolmaster into a relatively reclusive ex-"Writer of Tales for Boys," as he is described in the British Library. My hunch is that it was all a cumulative effect of successive tragedies during the war years.

However, it could also very well be, as suggested by Heather at Peakirk Books, Norfolk, that it's as simple as: "It is possible he just got fed up with writing!"

We may never know. But if you have any information on the now-forgotten English Preparatory School in Glion, Switzerland, William E. Mocatta, or any other part of the life and times of George Ramsay Acland Mills, please contact me. I would greatly appreciate it!

Tracking the Life and Travels of Vera Louise Beauclerk Mills, Part 2

When last we peeked in on the life and travels of Vera Louise Mills [née Beauclerk], she had just pledged her troth to George Mills at the altar of the Holy Trinity Church in Brompton on 23 April 1925.

A reception was held at the Hans-crescent Hotel afterwards, after which the couple must have honeymooned and began their lives together. The honeymoon likely didn't take too long as George was likely on holiday from his duties as a schoolmaster.

Mills, then recently of Oxford, had just secured what appears to have been a "junior appointment", a position that was "seldom held for long," at Windlesham House School [its gardens as seen in Portslade, above left]. Despite that, the new couple apparently bought a house near on Benfield Way in Portslade.

George appears to have been very active at Windlesham and quite happy. Not only was he a master there, likely in "English or English subjects," he was involved in extra-curricular activities, especially in the arts of drama and music.

In fact, to say that Mills had been happy there may be understating the reality of the situation. Mills wrote three children's books based on the acquaintances and experiences he accrued at Windlesham, and was still proudly proclaiming his allegiance to the school as late as 1935.

As we know, however, by the end of the Summer Term in 1926, Mills surprisingly disappeared from the faculty list at the school, and Windlesham seems to have recorded no reason why—although they know a remarkable amount about him personally, even today. It has been speculated that Mills was one of the prep school masters at that time who were "excited about the General Strike" that occured during term.

British teachers at the time, according to the book, The General Teaching Council, by John Sayers, were more politically charged—confrontational and involved in unionization—than ever in the 1920s, and Mills could well have been involved. Still, given his family and connections, and those of his new bride, along with his newfound position as household breadwinner, I simply find it hard to believe that Mills would have been willing to chuck a plum job like the one he'd found in Portslade in favor of playing union politics. I find it more likely that the school found he'd lied about having a "B.A. Oxon" but, liking him very well, allowed him to resign rather than being dismissed.

Over the next decade or more, Mills became an itinerant teacher, and given the economic landscape of the Great Depression, he may well have been forced to find work at other positions as well to support his young bride.

Mills lists his teaching stops between 1926 and 1933 as the defunct Warren Hill School [right] in Eastbourne [actually Meads], The Craig School in Windermere, the mysterious English Preparatory School in Glion. Later, in 1938, he will add the surprisingly unknown Eaton Gate Preparatory School in London. How long Mills taught at each institution is simply unknown as these schools have been largely if not completely forgotten by their various communities.

Vera Mills, we can assume, had a mother still residing at 4 Hans-mansion, S.W., for at least the outset of this time period of one dozen years. Would she have traveled with Mills as he moved about?

It's possible George lived in the master's dormitory at Warren Hill, but perhaps not, preferring to reside in Portslade and drive to Eastbourne. From Benfield Way by automobile, he'd likely have to have driven down Old Shoreham Road east, turned south until it met the coastal highway, A259, through Seaford and between Eastbourne Downs and Beachy Head, on into The Meads. The trip would have been over 35 kilometers, one way, each morning to make the school bell and breakfast with the boys.

Given the technological advances of the time, autos were clearly hardy enough to make that journey easily in 1926. However, with a round-trip of 70 km, each day, all week, one wonders if there was such a 'commuter culture' at the time that Mills would have done it. Would Mills really have spent that much time behind the wheel of an automobile to teach?

It's natural to assume, from today's perspective he might've commuted by auto, but it simply seems to me so unlikely. Perhaps he rode the London Brighton and South Coast Railway, traveling from Brighton into Eastbourne daily on the East Coastway Line. Would that have been a better possibility? I suppose it's also possible he'd sold the house and just moved Vera over to Eastbourne, but I'm not sold on that idea either.

Either way, he was subsequently off to Windermere in Cumbria, anyway, and then to Glion, Switzerland, and one wonders for how long those positions were held, and whether or not Vera was in tow in those cases as well.

Vera's family had been certainly not one to worry about whether or not a wife accompanied a breadwinning husband at his out-of-town [or out-of-country] employment. Her grandmother, Hester Hart, as we know, gained a reputation for being "the absentee wife" of Sir Robert Hart in Peking, China, and she consequently almost evaporates from the family record.

Hester left China with two of her children, Bruce and Nollie, in 1881. Except for what were characterized as "rare and brief visits," she never returned to live with Sir Robert [right]. He faithfully corresponded with her until he left China in 1908, and there was one 17 year period during which the husband and wife never met, although Hart "provided generously for her rather luxurious style of life in England."

By 1878, Hester had "established" her children with her mother in Portadown, Ireland, to arrange for and oversee their educations, and then she began "the life of independence and travel that was to be hers over a long lifetime." Hart's London agent in Customs "reported her whereabouts from time to time, but mainly by hearsay."

Sir Robert provided Hester, then Lady Hart, "a house in a good section of London together with a handsome allowance and frequent presents. [She] entertained well and traveled widely."

Vera's mother, Evelyn Amy Hart Beauclerk, had been educated in England and Ireland and apparently came to visit Sir Robert in Peking in 1892, having been between "Aden and Colombo" in March earlier that year, traveling to China with her uncle, James Hart.

While in Peking with her father, "Evey" decided to marry the First Secretary of the British Legation, William Nelthorpe Beauclerk, a British diplomat who was assigned to China, Hungary, Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia from 1890 through his death in 1908.

Her mother, Hester, did not attend the "Jerusalem style" ceremony in Peking.

After her honeymoon, the soon pregnant Evelyn was in England in early in 1893 when her father posted a letter to his London agent, Campbell, on 18 February to cover the cost of a new maid for "Evey." Where Beauclerk was or why he could not cover the cost is unknown. She would soon return to China, however.

Vera was born on 5 September 1893, and Evelyn left China the very next day! "Evey" would soon return to Peking, as her younger sister, Hilda, would be born there in 1895.

By 1896, however, Beauclerk was assigned to the legation in Hungary, and I find it hard to believe that with an endowed mother in London and a rich father in Peking, that "Evey" would be raising her two infant girls in Hungary. This is especially true since the duties he would encounter in his new eastern European locale were characterized as a "hard card to play—against Russia and France politically, and against Germany (von Brandt) economically."

Evelyn, who had family and economic roots in both the United Kingdom and Peking, may indeed have followed Beauclerk, twenty years her senior, from Asia, to Europe, and on to South America. From her earliest life, though, Evelyn would not have seen a her own father and mother together as husband and wife very often, if at all.

And it's quite likely newlywed Vera Mills had never seen that either. It's hard to imagine Vera sitting alone in Bowness-on-Windermere in distant Cumbria, waiting for Mills to come home from a hard day up at The Craig, especially after she had led a relatively cosmopolitan lifestyle—one that certainly was not in any way limited in its opportunities to socialize and travel.

I can imagine her seeing George in Glion once or twice, but not finding herself by any means chained to an English prep school there. It simply doesn't seem to have been something the women in her family would have ever considered!

In my mind, there's no way Vera was following George around the United Kingdom and Europe, simply in his tow. Her own mother was clearly quite established in a nice part of Kensington in 1925, and her monied grandmother, Hester, wouldn't pass on until 1928 in Bournemouth, Hampshire, at the age of 80. Vera clearly had places to stay and people to spend time with while George pursued his career in the preparatory education of boys!

By 1933, however, the sands had begun to shift.

In that year, George Mills published his first book, Meredith and Co.: The Story of a Modern Preparatory School, with the Oxford University Press. Aspects of it indicate that he'd been back in London for a while.

In the book's preface, Mills thanks a close friend, Mr. H. E. Howell, who has been associated with All Saints Church Margaret Street, just to the northeast of Hans-mansions, past Hyde Park Corner and Grosvenor Square, as well as mentioning a headmaster from a school in Brackley.

He's also had a difficult, perhaps even bitter, time editing the book under the eye of a Mr. E. M. Henshaw, whose name disappears from later editions of the book. It's unkown if Henshaw was employed by the O. U. P., but Mills obviously was obliged to pay attention to his "devastating, but most useful, criticisms"—criticisms he may not have found in a softer editor outside of the hard core of British publishing in London.

George's parents were probably still in Onslow Gardens, at least until the passing of George's father, Barton, in 1932. Mills's brother and sister-in-law, Arthur and Lady Dorothy Mills, also lived just south of there on Ebury Street, at least through their divorce in 1933.

Yes, there certainly were a lot of reasons for Mills to have finally returned to this area by the early 1930s!

There's no reason to think, then, that Vera is not with George at this time, 1933, no matter where she may have been during his nomadic years just before. The questions are: Did they have a place of their own in 1933? Were they living with George's parents in Onslow Gardens? Or might they have been residing with Vera's family? One wonders where George was actually sitting as he was writing the manuscript for Meredith and Co.!

1933 brings us to another interesting piece of paperwork as well: A manifest from a ship called the Dempo from the Royal Rotterdam Lloyd Line that steamed into the harbor in Southampton, England, on 10 April 1933. Aboard were Vera's mother, Evelyn Amy Beauclerk, and sister, Hilda de Vere Beauclerk, ages 64 and 38 respectively, sailing in from Surabaya, Indonesia, on an itinerary that had included stops in Singapore, Belawan, Colombo, Tanger, Port Said, Marseilles, Gibraltar, and Lisbon.

The address of both Mrs. Beauclerk and Hilda is listed on that document as "45 Knightsbridge Court, London SW. 1." That address today would seem to be in the vicinity of Harrod's, premier hotels, fine shopping and dining, the Kuwaiti Embassy, and an awful lot of expensive-looking automobiles. Might it have been a pretty nice area back then as well?

Yes, perhaps I can imagine Vera shopping out on Knightsbridge in April 1933 while George pecks at his typewriter near a window in his mother-in-law's fine home, awaiting the arrival of both "Evey" and Hilda from their voyage to the Far East.

Hilda would very soon marry Canadian Miles Malcolm Acheson [who puzzlingly was not aboard the Dempo, at least not as a passenger, but was employed then by Chinese Maritime Customs] on 21 June 1933, just over two months after their arrival in Southampton. Had she arrived home for just in time for her own wedding, which was held in Canterbury, Kent?

Unfortunately her mother, Evelyn Beauclerk, never attended the affair, having passed away on 10 June 1933, exactly two months after their arrival!

Given the 1928 passing of Vera's grandmother, Hester, the 1932 death of George's father, Barton, with his sister-in-law, Lady Dorothy, still recovering from a horrific car 1929 accident, with his brother Arthur's divorce dragging from 1932 into 1933, which had followed on the heels of the death of Lady Dorothy's own father in New Zealand in 1931, it certainly had to have been a difficult five years for the families of George and Vera, particularly with George seemingly having apparently suffered concurrent employment woes and the world having been embroiled in a Great Depression!

1935, however, found George casually visiting Steyning, and singing the praises of Windlesham House School, while mentioning he'd authored a book based on Windlesham and Warren Hill back in 1933. Was Vera along? Perhaps not. Either way, he was apparently in good spirits that day!

1938 saw George publishing a sequel to Meredith and Co. called King Willow, this time with G. G. Harrap & Co. In the book's dedication, dated June 1938, he mentions that "Eaton Gate Preparatory School" in "London, S.W. 1," where he presumably had been teaching sometime between 1933 and that year. Eaton Gate is in Belgravia, just a stone's toss from "Cadogen Gardens" [where George's sisters will be living by 1935] and presumably less than a half-mile south of where Evelyn Beauclerk had lived at Hans-mansions in 1925, and in Knightsbridge in 1933.

Unfortunately, the school using that particular name has been forgotten completely, although there is another prep school at Eaton Gate today.

In 1939, George published two more books, Minor and Major [the third in his trilogy of tomes based at least partly on beloved characters from his fictional Leadham House School] and St. Thomas of Canterbury, which was published in Burns, Oates & Co.'s "Shilling Series" of children's books.

Surprisingly, at least for me, 1939 also found Mills abandoning any career he might have had as an author and returning to the military as a commissioned officer and paymaster at the outset of Britain's entry into the Second World War on 3 September 1939. Mills, 44, was commissioned on 11 October of the same year and given the rank of Lieutenant.

Not bad for a fellow who, some twenty years before, had checked out of the army after the First World war holding the rank of Lance Corporal!

I had assumed Mills had been assigned to a Royal Army Pay Corps in London or Sussex, but I now believe that I was wrong. I think he must have been assigned to the RAPC in Taunton [right].

His grandfather, Arthur Mills, had been an M.P. from Taunton from 1852-1853 and 1857-1865. The family of George's grandmother, Lady Agnes Lucy Acland Mills, owned a great deal of land in northern Devon and into Somerset. His great-grandfather, Sir Thomas Dyke Acland, had been a lord and power broker over an area of land that ranged from the rocky coast of Cornwall, through Devon, past Exmoor, and on into Taunton throughout the late 19th century.

The Holnicote Estate in Exmoor has been owned and managed by the National Trust since 1944, but it had been a home of the Acland family, along with Killerton in Devon. I'm not suggesting that Mills lived there while he worked for the RAPC, but I suspect he at the very least may have lived nearby.

The death certificate of Vera Louise Mills was filed in Exmoor, Somerset, on 5 January 1942. Holnicote House is a good ways from Taunton, but the Aclands would have had plenty of land around there [pictured is a 1890s cottage in part of the estate called Selworthy Green]. Perhaps George rented one of the estate's 170-some cottages from the Aclands. Perhaps, with a war on and George in the service, he was even given a place to stay with Vera free of charge. Could it even be that Vera stayed on as a guest of the estate itself with George at the barracks? One could easily imagine a cosmopolitan girl like Vera making herself quite at home in such surroundings!

Perhaps, though, George Mills simply had been randomly assigned to Taunton. After all, there wouldn't have been too many places around southern England where he could have landed and you couldn't have made a case that he'd have had some kin nearby, or in a locale that had had something to do with his family's history. Still, he didn't end up in Manchester, Leicester, or York with virtually no connections. He landed in Taunton.

The circumstances of Vera's death are unknown to me. Just 48, she seems to have been so very young to have died. Still, I don't know what caused her passing. Illness? An accident? It's hard to say, just as it's hard to say exactly what effect it might have had on George.

Mills, a man who was known for his humorous stories and for "making people laugh, a lot," presumably had a good relationship with his wife. He obviously had been working well at his desk in the Pay Corps, having been promoted to 2nd Lieutenant in April of 1942.

Yet, on 3 November 1943, Mills relinquished his commission on account of "ill health" and was given the honorary rank of Lieutenant.

Is it a coincidence that Mills took so sick within two years of Vera's death that his health drove him from the armed forces during the middle of a global conflict during which Great Britain literally had its hands full?

Perhaps. But one actually might tend think that George—not coming from a nuclear family in which husbands and wives lived separate lives, and by 1942 finally having the chance to spend quality time together with Vera while he was gainfully and steadily employed—took her death very hard.

[To read Part 1, click HERE.]

The Road and the End, not by Carl Sandburg

It's a rather gloomy Sunday morning here in the otherwise Sunshine State, and I'm also in a rather gloomy mood. The school year is wrapping up and soon I'll have plenty of time to work on researching George Mills and family, but the trail is growing cold.

* This arrived yesterday from the Oxford University Press, publishers of several editions of Mills's books:

Elkins, Charlotte [charlotte.elkins [at] oup.com]
Sent: Thursday, June 03, 2010 3:41 AM

Dear Sam Williams

Thank you for your email.

I'm sorry to say that we don't have files going back that far, and have no information at all about this author or his books.

I found this entry on Wikipedia - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Mills_(writer) -but there is nothing more I can tell you, I'm afraid.

Sorry we can't be more help.

With best wishes

Charlotte Elkins Administrator
Children's Books
Oxford University Press

I appreciate Charlotte taking the time to research Mills. I had to chuckle, though, that I'd actually written that page she found on-line!

* This arrived last week from the Poughill Parish Church, seeking records about former vicar, Rev. Barton R. V. Mills:

Poughill Parish Church [poughillparishchurch [at] live.co.uk]
Sent: Saturday, May 29, 2010 6:55 AM

I'm afraid the church would not have any records that would be of help to you, but you may like to try the Truro records office. The Telephone number in UK is 01872 323127.

Regards

Paul Whybrow (Vicar)

I've already tried the archdiocese, and they did a marvelous job of coming up with information regarding the stained glass window dedicated to Barton Mills in Bude.

* This is in from the Fairlynch Museum in Devon:

From: M Brett [mbrett [at] aultbe.co.uk]

Sent: Thursday, May 13, 2010 3:42 AM

Hi Sam,

Thank you for your email requesting information on George Mills which has been passed to our Local History section.
As a small volunteer run Museum we make a charge of £10. to cover our researchers initial time. Upon receipt of payment we will be pleased to start investigations. Should, however, we find that this research involves a great deal of time we would contact you again before proceeding further.

Look forward to hearing from you.

Margaret (Brett)

Fairlynch Museum

My request had been for local information about George Mills in Budleigh Salterton, particularly "Greyfriars," and anything that might have been known about Agnes and/or Violet Mills through their collective time in Devon.

My problem here is that I really don't want to spend £10 to possibly have someone send me back a link to my own Wikipedia page!

* Another dead end has been Switzerland, where I tried the local Anglican Church in Glion, which might have had some ties to the boys who attended the English Preparatory School there, at which George Mills taught:


Geoffrey Jones [gj [at] vpfch.com]
Sent: Tuesday, May 11, 2010 4:35 AM

No one in the church can recall anything about the school in Glion. However we did forward your request to the Hill House school which does use Glion for some of its activities in Switzerland.
I do hope you are able to trace the history of the preparatory school.
Kind regards,
Geoffrey Jones

Unfortunately, here's been no word from Hill House School. From my location, far distanced from the Alps, it seems that the English Prep School—except for having hosted Wells, the son of American author Sinclair Lewis, beginning in November, 1924. Lewis mentions the school in his collected letters.

* Another mysterious school has been Eaton Gate Preparatory School in London where Mills likely worked in the mid- to late-1930s. There is a school there now, and I had written wondering if the present "pre prep" institution had any connection with Eaton Gate Prep:

admin [at] eatonhouseschools.com
Sent: Tuesday, May 11, 2010 4:47 AM

Dear Mr Williams
Thank you for your email and enquiry into Eaton Gate Prep as you call it.
The school is actually called Eaton House Belgravia now and is a independent boys pre prep school for boys aged 4 - 8 years old.
Sadly we have few records going back to the period you are interested in but we have forwarded your request to our Headteacher at Eaton House Belgravia, Miss Lucy Watts, to see whether she has come across anything of relevance to you.
We wish you the best with your project.
Kind regards

Eaton House Group of Schools

Who knows what might become of this? I'd love confirmation that the school did, indeed, actually exist. That's something I haven't been able to find anywhere else!

* There has been some movement in another area, but I don't know what will come of it. Here's word from the Middlesborough Diocese about Barton Mills's conversion to Catholicism:

archives [at] dioceseofmiddlesbrough.co.uk
Sent: Wednesday, May 12, 2010 7:53 AM

Dear Mr Williams,
Caroline has passed on to me your enquiry about Barton Mills.
If you know where he was living at the time of his possible conversion, then the RC baptismal register from that place can be checked to see if there is an entry there in his name for a “conditional baptism”. Of course, even if there is no such entry it will not prove he was not baptised into the Catholic church somewhere else - it is always very difficult to prove a negative.
Yours sincerely,
David Smallwood (Middlesbrough Diocesan Archivist)

I've replied with the requested location, and all I can do now is wait.

I do appreciate the kindness of all who have taken the time to help me in my research. I fear, though, I am beginning to see the end of the road in this venture, and that I may be nearing the end of either the end of the information available about George Mills, et al, and/or the end of information that its caretakers are willing or able to share.

Still, I'll be poking around for at least a while longer!

Breakfast with the Hawk and the Boys

It's a lovely, hot, early summer day here in the Sunshine State. The lawn is unruly after some recent rain, and I'm putting off going out to do battle with it. Instead, I think we'll check in on George Mills's fictional alter ego, Mr. Mead, at Leadham House School. Let's thumb ahead to Chapter XVII of Meredith and Co., and recall that last time, Mead was off to bed, anxiously awaiting his first day of teaching French.

MR. MEAD arose early in the morning, and walked across to the school with the Jewel [Mr. Gold]. He was anxious to see as much of the school routine as possible, and stood by the side of Gold as he read the roll call. Mr. Mead stood looking at the row of strange faces, and wondered what sort of task he would make of teaching. All the boys were perfect strangers, and he was thinking how best to break the ice during breakfast. As they were going downstairs the Jewel told him that his table was the one next to his own.

'You will have several members of the Third and Fourth forms. they are quite well-behaved, but rather talkative.'

After grace had been said, Mr. Mead sat down. He was not quite certain of the correct procedure. Should he help himself from the sideboard, or would he be waited on? He noticed the Jewel helping himself to coffee, so he joined him.

'Sorry, Mead, I ought to have told you that we help ourselves. If you want a second cup send a boy for it.'

Mr. Mead took a cup of coffee, and a plate of porridge. When he sat down, he looked at the boys who were seated at his table. He noticed particularly the boy to his right. He was a small, dark boy, with a happy care-free expression. Conversation was limited, as it often is in the presence of a stranger. Mr. Mead had just finished his porridge when the boy on his right spoke.

'Er, sir, do you like dogs?'

'Yes, very much. Do you have a dog at home?'

The boy became quite talkative.

'Rather, sir; hundreds! At least, not exactly hundreds, sir. But there's a topping dog here, sir. He belongs to one of the boy's maters, sir. He's a bulldog, and is called Uggles. Shall I get you some eggs and bacon, sir?'

My hunch is that this is an idealized first conversation with a student, invested with a great deal of "I-wish-it-really-had-been-that-easy." Upon the publication of Meredith and Co., Mills had already experienced at least four "meet and greets" with boys, having taught at Windlesham House, Warren Hill, The Craig, and the seemingly completely forgotten English Preparatory School in Glion, Switzerland between 1925 and 1933.

With so much movement from place to place, it's no wonder that Mills focuses on Mr. Mead's desire to quickly learn the "correct procedure."

Also despite Dr. Howell (Peter) Stone's advice the night before—all of which revolved around the classroom—Mills is letting us know in no uncertain terms here that the first true hurdle to be cleared is meeting the boys and establishing himself quickly. It's open to conjecture how long it may have taken Mills, at first, to win over the boys at Windlesham House, but as he was apparently a very personable fellow who enjoyed making people laugh, my hunch is that it must not have taken too awfully long.

Interestingly, we find that a real ice breaker here is the subject of dogs. Mr. Mead is immediately presented with an opportunity to win over a key boy in his form by simply admitting to a fondness for canines. I'd better dollars to doughnuts that it all didn't come off so readily in reality, but that once Mills knew man's best friend was a metaphorical foot-in-the-door with his charges, he used dogs to his advantage in all of his new teaching locales.

This isn't to imply that Mills exaggerates his fondness for dogs here simply for social gain. We do know already of his propensity to share a family story from well before he was born about his father's family taking their dogs along to church, and having one actually take in the service from a pew on one occasion.

Yesterday, we also learned that Mills's love of cricket could have helped him land at least one teaching job as Mr. Mead is welcomed by Mr. Marshall as an assistant with the Leadham House eleven. And, here, his love of dogs helps him open lines of communication with the boys.

Let's see how that breakfast conversation comes out:

Mr. Mead gave his plate over to the boy, and asked his name.

'Falconer, sir,' said the boy, and he went off, and returned with some eggs and bacon. Mr. Mead liked the Hawk. He was so natural, and his frank, open manner appealed to him. The meal proceeded most satisfactorily; Mr. Mead inquired the names of the boys, and was entertained with several stories of the holidays. he found all the boys very friendly—not the sort that tries to 'suck up' to a new master, but animated with a genuine desire to be on good terms. He found the atmosphere delightful.

[A quick aside: From this last paragraph, can we surmise that this genuine sort of student behavior was not always the way it was at Windermere and Glion?]

The Hawk looked up.

'Please, sir,' he asked, rather diffidently, 'what is your name, sir?'

Mr. Mead enlightened him, and the Hawk continued.

'What are you taking, sir?'

'French,' added Mr. Mead, shortly.

'Oh, sir, I hate French, sir. I only got seven for the exam last term.'

''Well,' said Mr. Mead, laughing, 'we shall have to improve on that!'

'Please, sir, are you taking us all in French?'

'Yes, I believe so.'

To the person who does not know the mind of the preparatory schoolboy, all his questions must appear to be rude curiosity. But in this case they served to break the ice, and enabled the boys to talk about something. The small boy is usually limited in intelligent conversation, and if he can, by asking questions, get someone else to talk, he does so.

That last paragraph is a great insight, and insight into the hearts and minds of prep students seems to have been Mills's long suit, at least early in his career.

In this scene, we see in microcosm Mills's fledgling days as a master in a preparatory school. While not the finest written lines in the history of English literature, this excerpt does display a comfortable, conversational genuineness—similar to the characteristics that Mead admires in young Falconer—full of both story-telling warmth and keen observation.

Having spent a day or two getting my feet wet at a new school now and then along my own way, Mills's concerns are real concerns. His wonder about his new students and his desire to get off on the right foot all ring perfectly true. And, despite the fact that Mr. Meads does have the ice completely broken unusually quickly in this scene, it does accurately portray the amazing speed at which children will determine whether or not an adult is trustworthy, and hence, worthy of hearing or participating in meaningful conversation among them!

So, after two excerpts from Meredith and Co., we find Mr. Mead—and Mills—possessing the 'people skills' necessary to be successful in a teaching career: He's an engaging fellow, seemingly dutiful to more experienced adults and to the needs of the boys.

Next time, let's step inside Mr. Mead's class-room as he begins his first hour teaching the Sixth form….

The Life of B. R. V. Mills, Part 3

I've had some exciting news involving George Mills today, but I feel like I'm on a roller-coaster right now—I just found out my boss is being promoted. Good for him, bad for us here in the classrooms. Now, for most of my career, that wouldn't have been a very large hurdle to clear. Most of the school principals I've worked for are like chewing gum on the bottom of your shoe: Just when you get rid of one bit, along comes another wad. This fellow is definitely different, truly wonderful, and I'll admit I'm more than a bit dismayed and frustrated about the situation. His last day at the school is tomorrow…

Anyway, let's get back to the rest of the life of Revd Barton R. V. Mills. We left him early in the decade of the 1920s, in his early sixties, with one son married, another at university, and two daughters presumably at home.

While recent events in this narrative associated with Barton Mills seemed to have highlighted his continued love of history, he was obviously still working in theology in a scholarly way as well despite being a dozen years removed from the Savoy. In the 25 February 1922 edition of Notes and Queries: A Medium of Intercommunication for Literary Men, General Readers, etc., he asked their readership:

LATIN PROVERB : ORIGIN SOUGHT. Can any reader tell me the origin of the Latin proverb "Nescit sanus quid sentiat aeger aut plenus quid patiatur jejunus " ? It is quoted as vulgare proverbium by St. Bernard ('De Gradibus Humilitatis,' &c., cap. iii.), but I have not been able to find it in any dictionary of quotations.

BARTON R. V. MILLS.

Early in my attempts at creating a time-line for the Mills family, I had made the assumption that his work translating and interpreting St. Bernard must have been done under the auspices of some institution. It appears I was wrong, unless he pursued it on behalf of armed forces chaplains. Mills must simply have been driven to understand and explain the teachings of St. Bernard, and I still have much more to learn about why. In the above request, Mills is making certain his citations are correct, indicating that his work is almost finished.

The year 1922 brought news from Barton's daughter-in-law Lady Dorothy Mills, and it must have been quite unusual as it apparently came on the heels of a press conference! First, the Straits Times reported on 4 July, 1922, in an article entitled, "TRACING A TRIBE: An Expedition to the Sahara," that: "Lady Dorothy Mills, daughter of the Earl of Orford, has announced that she will lead an expedition into the mysterious interior of the Sahara Desert."

And before the end of 1922, the journal Current History [April-September, 1922] was reporting: "Lady Dorothy Mills, daughter of the Earl of Orford and granddaughter of D. C. Corbin of New York, is on an expedition to the remote regions of the southeastern Sahara to discover the habits of mysterious white cave men [troglodytes], first reported by Captain de St. Maurice last year."

The rest of the Mills family is quiet as reports continue to surface during 1923 that Lady Dorothy Mills, traveling alone except for guides and porters, drove deep into the heart of North Africa and became the "first white woman" to reach Timbuktu, although some accounts do label her as simply the "first Englishwoman." I'm now reading her book, and she isn't quite in Timbuktu yet, but I'll mention here that she certainly met plenty of pale, perspiring French women along the way. Still, I'll reserve judgment until I finish her account.

1924 found Barton's son, Arthur, and his daughter-in-law, Lady Dorothy, both publishing books in the same year once again: Arthur's The Broadway Madonna, which received favorable reviews, and Lady Dorothy's The Road to Timbuktu [Duckworth & Co.: London, 1924], a stunning success, after which she embarked on a new path in her writing career.

George Mills soon returned to the story when he began teaching as a junior appointment at Windlesham House School, then in Portslade, beginning at Lent, 1925. Mills claimed to have earned a B.A. from Oxford, presumably in the "English or 'English subjects'" he taught at Windlesham.

George married Vera Louise Beauclerk on 23 April 1925 at the Holy Trinity Church, Brompton, with his father, Barton, as one of the presiding clergy. They also purchased a home on Benfield Way, Portslade, that year. It appeared the young couple was settling down together. George wouldn't be staying long however.

In 1925, Arthur and Lady Dorothy Mills—neither of whom attended George's wedding—each published yet another new novel, The Gold Cat [Hutchinson & Co., London, 1925; pictured left, in its German edition] and The Dark Gods [Duckworth: London, 1925], respectively. It isn't as if publishing houses were taking on extra hands to keep up with the writing of the Mills, but that was an output that even Danielle Steele or Nora Roberts might be envious of.

Lady Dorothy was also making news simply for being herself, anywhere. Among other celebrity appearances, she attended a debutante's dance, an event that turned out to be so newsworthy that coverage of it ends up in the Straits Times in Singapore on 7 July, 1925: "In a paragraph from the Morning Post of June 9… over 100 guests were present at the Langham Hotel [London] at a dance given by Hon. Mrs. Adderley and Mrs. C. Alma Baker for Miss Julitha Baker… Among those present at the dance, many of whom took parties were:- The Duke of Manchester, Lady Southampton, Lady Dorothy Mills, Lord Fermoy, M.P., Lady Muir Mackenzie, the Hon. Lady McCalmont, Lord Edward Montagu, the Hon. Charles Fitzroy, the Hon. Edward Portman, Sir Henry and Lady Fairfax-Lucy… [etc]."

After the Summer Term in 1926, George Mills was no longer on the teaching staff list at Windlesham—a position and a place he seemed to dearly love—and no one really seems to know why. In the same year, though, Barton Mills, published perhaps his finest and most renowned work, De Gradibus Humilitatis et Superbiae by Saint Bernard of Clairvaux [University Press: Cambridge, 1926], which he edited along with his friend and colleague, Rev. Watkin W. Williams. Barton was approximately 69 years of age at the time.

Lady Dorothy, however, dominated the family's literary efforts that year by publishing yet another novel in 1926, the sci-fi tale Phœnix, [Hutchinson & Co.: London, 1926], and a pair of travel books Beyond the Bosphorus [Duckworth & Co.: London, 1926], and Through Liberia [Duckworth & Co.: London, 1926; illustration, right].

What's really unclear is how close Barton Mills was with his elder son and daughter-in-law. Were they reveling in each other's successes, or had Arthur and Dorothy by then begun moving in completely different circles? And how much did the success of the rest of the family in 1926 provide a stark contrast to new husband George's departure from teaching? It must have been gratifying for George to see such success amoing loved ones, but how frustrated might he have felt about his own fledgling career?

Over the next several years, George also taught at Warren Hill School in Eastbourne, The Craig School in Windermere, and at the English Preparatory School in Glion. Although more still comes to light about Warren Hill every day, little is now known about The Craig, and virtually nothing at all about the school in Glion, Switzerland, or George's time there.

One thing we do know is that, while George was in Windermere and Glion, he was not often spending time with his aging father, Barton, who had turned 70 in 1927. George's lack of occupational stability would be just the beginning of a period of familial difficulty that couldn't have been comforting for Barton in his declining years.

While George was away, teaching at various locales in the U.K. and in Europe as well, Lady Dorothy continued her own travels. In 1929, however, a relatively short jaunt would have an enormous impact on her life. She was involved in a car accident returning from a trip to Ascot that her scarred for life. Then, as opposed to traveling, she spent her time writing a memoir, A Different Drummer: Chapters in an Autobiography [Duckworth: London], that was published in 1930.

Seemingly recovered by 1931, Lady Dorothy heard of a expedition planning to discover the source of the Venezuela's Orinoco River. She hurriedly arranged an expedition of her own to get there first and publicly announced her plans to the press. Was this ego driven, a desire to stay on top of her literary game, or was Lady Dorothy fighting the ravages of time and injury, trying to prove something to herself as much as she was to her public?

The book about her journey, The Country of the Orinoco [Hutchinson & Co.: London] was written and published in an amazingly short amount of time, before the year of 1931 had even drawn to a close. And in that same year something of great import to her had occurred halfway around the world. Lady Dorothy's father, Robert Horace Walpole, the last Earl of Orford, had died in New Zealand on 27 September and his remains were transported home to Norfolk for burial on 8 November. Lady Dorothy, then 42 years of age, attended the services with her stepmother, Emily Gladys Oakes, then the Countess of Orford, and Dorothy's twelve-year-old half-sister, Lady Anne Walpole.

The death of the Earl at last allowed Lady Dorothy access to the trust fund she'd been unable to touch since 1918. By the time the international paperwork all had been completed, and the barristers fees deducted, one can likely assume it was well into 1932 before the funds she had inherited became available to her.

Would this brighten the future of Arthur and Lady Dorothy of Ebury Street, London? To assume so would leave you right by half, but that's another tale for another day.

More immediately, Arthur's father, Barton Mills, passed away not very long after the Earl's cold November funeral. Barton died on 21 January 1932 in London. Soon after, a stained glass window bearing the image of St. Bernard was designed, applied for, funded, and installed in Chancel North of the St Michael & All Angels parish church at Bude Haven, Cornwall, in his lasting memory. The colourful window still glows there in his memory.

Barton Mills did not live to see his son, George, publish his first book, Meredith and Co., in 1933, finally tasting some of the success that others in the family had. One hopes, though, that George had talked to his father about writing it, and that, as the manuscript lengthened, Barton had many chances to share in his son's process, as well as his excitement. Barton wouldn't ever know that eventually George would follow in his father's footsteps and author a book about a religious icon, his son's choice being St. Thomas of Canterbury [right].

Barton Mills wouldn't know that Lady Dorothy would file for divorce from his elder son, Arthur, that very same year, 1932, or that his spinster daughters, Agnes and Violet, aged 36 and 29 at the time of the elder Mills' death—women who had presumably lived with Barton for virtually their entire lives—would remain unmarried.

Barton Mills wouldn't know of Vera Mills' passing in 1942. And he wouldn't know that all four of his children apparently lived the rest of their lives "without issue."

It seemed the story may have drawn to a close after a series of deaths: Arthur passed in 1955, George in 1972, and both Agnes and Violet in 1975—the final three all in Devonshire, and seemingly all distant from anyone who would or could have recorded their daily hopes, fears, sorrows, joys, or regrets during the last thirty or forty years of their lives.

But, strangely, their story didn't end. If you're reading this, it turns out that we're all here today considering the lives of this family of almost forgotten people, even though there were no daughters, sons, grandchildren, or great-grandchildren, seemingly no kin at all, left to continue to try to weave together the threads of their story—or even at the very least to upload to the internet the contents of a diary, a love letter, or a wedding photograph, or even to post a series of dates recorded in the family Bible on a blog. If there was anyone left to eventually do any of that, well... where is it all?

One piece of the story had been left here, another clue there, and a memory over in the mind of someone else. Just this morning, for example, I was delighted at having been contacted by a gentleman with a memory of George Mills. The story of George Mills is still around. It's simply scattered about us, a bit here and a bit there, like an overturned jigsaw puzzle...

So if you have any of those pieces, no matter how small, to add to this tale, if you know a friend of the Mills family, a former student, or anyone else who might remember George Mills or his family, please don't hesitate to let me know.

[Read Part 1 and/or Part 2]