Additional Information: Percy Carmichael Clarke, Emma Anna Piper, and Egerton Clarke

I've had some exciting information arrive this week, some of it from in and around Watford, England. Let's start with the thread I began receiving first.

A comment on the article "Mr. Egerton Clarke: Meet the Maternal Family" was recently posted by Lex Tucker on Tuesday, 1 November 2011. He wrote:

Frederick Ebenezer PIPER and his wife Mary nee MEACHER had:
Mabel Agnes 1874
Charles Frederick ca 1876
Horace Francis ca 1878
Albert Lucius Meacher ca 1880
Guy Reginald 1882 @ Hythe.
Fredk's wife seems to have been around 11 years his senior. He was 21 to her 32 when they married at Ivinghoe in Bucks in 1873.

According to the 1901 English Census, Mabel, a widow whose 6 y.o. daughter, Dorothy EDWARDS, was a 'British subject born in France' had married James ROY, a 43 y.o. widower. His 16 y.o. daughter Marjorie was also part of the household in Hove, Sussex. James was a 'manufacturing confectioner's manager' and may have had something to do with the fact that Albert PIPER, who was single and lived in Worthing, was a 'confectioner's agent'.

Horace and Guy were living with Charles (head of the household) and his wife in Teddington, Middlesex. Horace was a confectioner (James again?) and Guy a florist.


Thank you very much for the information, Lex!

While the above does not directly play into our story of George Mills, it does flesh out more of the the family history of George's dear friend, Egerton Clarke. If I am reading it all correctly, Egerton would have had some 5 step-siblings from his father Percy Carmichael Clarke's first marriage to Mary Meacher.

What we do not know is how close either Egerton or his mother, Emma Anna Piper Clarke [pictured, right, with Egerton], may have been—if at all—to the children of Percy Clarke's first marriage. The last child of Percy's first union was born around 1882 at Hythe, while Egerton was born in 1899 in Canterbury of a different mother, Emma Piper.

While that difference between half-siblings was some 17 years (1882-1899), Hythe is only some 20 miles from Canterbury, and both just across the Channel from France, where Percy passed away at Dinard in 1902.

It is also notable that Hythe is just a handful of miles west of Folkestone along the coast, the latter being the locale in which Egerton Clarke penned the dedication to his first book of poetry, Kezil and Other Poems, while residing at The Grange in June, 1920, after having served in the First World War.

Egerton clearly had step-kin in the area. Does the fact that he wrote that dedication in Folkestone have more to do with the fact that Hythe was part of his family's geography, or the fact that he had just served in the Army Pay Corps, with nearby Dover the location of a major WWI pay centre where friend George Mills had been stationed after Egerton's medical discharge from the service in 1918? Dover is just over 5 miles to the east of Folkestone.

Much of this requires speculation. Does having a family member born in Hythe make the military connection between Folkestone and Dover somewhat less meaningful? It's difficult to be certain, but we do know that Egerton's mother, with whom he was never truly close, seemingly was out of the picture and residing with her family in Hertfordshire at the time.

Had there always been a deeper connection with his father's family, especially during the time he attended St Edmund's School in Kent, than we previously have suspected?

This new information isn't earth-shattering, but in light of wondering about the relation between Egerton and George Mills, as well as the relationship between Egerton and his mother and her family, it is extremely interesting.

I forwarded Lex's comment to Janine LaForestier, whom you may remember being Egerton Clarke's granddaughter. She already has provided a wealth of information regarding the family's history.

Her reply, dated 3 November:

This is wonderful. I have photos of a couple of Pipers - always wanted to know the approximate ages of these folk. They certainly look ancient - I love this puzzle. Wonderful.

All well at this end - still going through boxes of books.

Funny you should write - I was reading some of Egerton's poems this morning. One he wrote for my mother when she was three.

Also
Came across a photo of a man in uniform - on the back it states "Therese's fiance Lancashire Fusilier - killed in battle 1916-17. So my grandmother was engaged before she married Egerton. There must have been a tremendous shortage of men her own age - hence the age difference between them.


On the radio I recently heard an author, Adam Hochschild, talking about his upcoming book, To End All Wars: A Story of Loyalty and Rebellion, 1914-1918 [left]. In his discussion, he mentioned the difficulty of having a generation of men in its collective prime winnowed down to a relative few due to wounds, amputations, shellshock, and death. It must have impacted the societal pas de deux of lovers in post-War England to a great degree, thereby affecting the eligibility of George Mills and Egerton Clarke, both veterans!

However, I also came upon this message in my mailbox just this morning, dated Saturday, November 05, 2011 7:11 PM:

Dear Harry
I have been forwarded all the information you have discovered about my family.
I know you have been discussing your research with my cousin Janine in Canada. I am another granddaughter of egerton and live in England. although I spent eight years in California I have been brought up and live very close to a great deal of the places mentioned our nearest town is Watford and I went to school in st Albans and walked past the flat where Emma piper (my great grandmother's) sister lived without to this day knowing of the connection. egerton and Emma did not ever spend time in work houses the institutions referred to are schools in today's language would be private schools for the well to do. Emma was living in France after her husband Percy died . there are pictures and I have Percy's bible. there is a lot of research that I have done on the genes reunited website if you are interested. egerton was well educated and in the class system that is still prevalent today would have been considered upper class. the class ranking is often accompanied by a lack of money either money lost or a lifestyle indulged in beyond means. the class being defined by social circles and education. egerton's became a publisher and the publishing career then passed on to my father.

I am curious to know why you have such an interest in this family and have spent so much time researching it. I think it is difficult from such a distance and a different culture to interpret some information and language and meanings change over time.
kind regards
Camilla Andrews


Great information! Thank you so much, Camilla, from whom we have heard before! We now know for sure that Emma Anna Piper Clarke, Egerton's mother, failed to be tallied by early 20th century census takers because she had remained abroad in France after Percy's death! Perhaps that was natural: Emma had married a much older man and, after his passing, still may have had much to learn about herself as both a person and a woman.

We found reference to Emma in French journal from the year 2000 regarding a man with the surname "Lawrence," but it seems that would not have been author and prolific poet D. H. Lawrence, who did not reside in France until after World War I. By 1917, Emma clearly was a resident of Bishops Stortford, Herts.

[The addresses referred to in the journal article mentioned above are part of the region of France across from Dover, Folkestone, Hythe, and Canterbury (Go to: http://www.webcamgalore.com/EN/webcam/France/Veulettes-sur-Mer/5624.html).]


I feel, however, I must have offended Camilla more than just a little, and for that I apologize. My suppositions—that there may have been work houses involved in Watford and Blean—arose simply because of the fewer facts available to me at that time.

Egerton attended school in a town with a workhouse, Blean [right], which for purposes of the 1911 UK census was the location of St Edmund's School, not Canterbury. Citing Blean as the location of his residence without the census documents having named the "institution" (not "school") itself, I will admit, made me wonder where Egerton might have been housed and/or educated and under what circumstances, especially given that he recently had been orphaned.

In addition, the school's website describes its history thusly: "The name of the school was changed from the Clergy Orphan School to St Edmund's School in 1897." Egerton's circumstances as an orphan of a clergyman (and father of over a half-dozen children), combined with Egerton's attendance at a school that had recently been so charitably affiliated (the school was funded by the Clergy Orphan Society), never led me to believe that he was reared in an institution that was actually "in today's language… [a] private school for the well to do."

In addition, I also was misled to a great degree by this information: "1902 THE CLERGY ORPHAN CORPORATION, Under the Patronage of his majesty the King. President - The Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. Vice-President - The Earl of Cranbrook. Treasurer - E. Lonsdale Beckwith, Esq.

"These Schools, founded in 1749, are for the absolutely free maintenance, clothing, and education of the Orphan (fatherless) Children of the Clergy of the Established Church of England and Wales.

"3228 children have been admitted to the benefits of these Schools which now contain 240. Of this number 132 boys are being educated in St. Edmund's school in Canterbury."

Admittedly, I laboured under the assumption that young Egerton must have been one of those "absolutely free maintenance, clothing, and education" boys, and humbly propose that could have been a somewhat logical assumption, at least from my position at "such a distance and [from] a different culture."

Given the information to which I had access, St Edmund's [left] appeared to me then to have been a charitable school for orphans of men who typically would not have been wealthy. And given what one reads in fiction from the era (at least in classic and popular English literature available to us here in the States), one would assume that even beneficed Anglican clerics who were not fortunate enough to have come from wealthy families before taking their Holy Orders, and who subsequently sired more than just a couple of children, would not have been considered widely as having been 'well-to-do.'

I guess that's why they call it fiction, though, and I stand corrected if I have misconstrued all of the above.

From a purely personal perspective, I will add that one of the greatest 'perks' gained by doing this research is, indeed, gaining some insight into the culture of my ancestors, from "such a distance and a different culture." Hence, I am obliged to anyone who 'sets me straight' in these matters. It's all a work in progress!

Finally, to satiate Camilla's curiosity, my primary interest in her family is in regard to George Mills, a man no one seems to recall very much about, but who was well-educated (as was Egerton Clarke), who wrote children's books (as did Egerton Clarke), was the son of an Anglican vicar (as was Egerton Clarke), who had served in the Army Pay Corps during WWI (as did Egerton Clarke), who had health-issues in the service (as did Egerton Clarke), who later attended Oxford (as did Egerton Clarke), who did not earn a degree from Oxford in the end (as Egerton Cklarke did not), who became a devout Catholic against his family's wishes (as did Egerton Clarke), who never wrote another book after publishing religious texts with Burns, Oates, and Washbourne in the late 1930s (as did Egerton Clarke), and whose health fared poorly during the Second World War (as did Egerton Clarke's), although Mills survived the conflict.

Therefore, I truly hope it does not seem unnatural for me to wonder and wish to learn about the life of a gentleman acquainted with, and who had so very much in common with, George Mills. And if reading any of the suppositions I have made along the way—in the midst of this research—has offended anyone retrospectively, for that I do apologize.


Next time, there'll be more word from Watford, England. However, then it will regard conirmation of a former place of employment for George Mills and a potential link to his teaching career in Glion, Switzerland. See you then!

Summarizing George Mills: A Final Perspective

Much of our story here involving George Mills has revolved to a great degree around one thing lately: Religion. However, there certainly are many threads running through his story, and in this—oddly my 300th and hopefully not my final post— we'll begin to summarize, to some degree, what we have learned about George's life.


The Mills Family and Catholicism

It seems odd, at least to an American viewing it from the vantage point of the 20th century, that George's father, the Revd Barton R. V. Mills, converted to Roman Catholicism while attending Oxford around 1883 and then took a series of positions as an Anglican vicar afterwards, eventually ending up as assistant chaplain at the Chapel Royal of the Savoy in London, and doing a segment of Queen Victoria's funeral service. No one else seems surprised or very much cares save one man: The current chaplain of the Savoy, Peter Galloway, who simply chooses to disbelieve, preferring the strange point of view that the public record of the conversion of Mills must be in error.

I guess that's why they call it "faith."

In fact, I recently wrote to a Church of England vicar of today to ask about the relations among the Anglican Church, the High Church, the Low Church, Anglo-Catholicism, and Roman Catholicism. I let him know that some very learned people in the U.K. have expressed directly to me that there's really not much difference at all, especially today, and that it's unlikely anyone cared very much back then, either—hence the vicarages and the chaplaincy to the Savoy being awarded to Mills.

Like most people I've contacted who are involved with the Church, that vicar never bothered to reply to a collegial request for research assistance from an educator. (Just an aside: When clerics contact scholars, do they expect assistance in their own research? If so, that would be quite hypocritical!)

In lieu of that learned opinion, the difference between the Anglican Church and Roman Catholicism seems, however, to have been a big enough deal for some people actually to make the effort to convert from the Church of England to Roman Catholicism, and to form specific religious societies, and publishing houses, and the like, especially when converting was 'of the moment' in the early 20th century.

I think it might a bigger surprise that George Mills was friendly with Roman Catholic converts, frequenting their haunts, publishing with their publishers, and basically living a very Roman Catholic life, all the way through to his funeral service at the Catholic Church of St. Peter's in Budleigh Salterton (as opposed to the St. Peter's C of E there), than it is that he might've been gay, for example, as we recently heard discussed.

Given the overtly Catholic nature of many of George's friends, religion seems to have been the windmill at which Mills tilted most as the son of an Anglican vicar—even if his father also had been a closet Roman Catholic—in an extended family involved fully in Church of England. His sexuality would seem to have been secondary.

Having moved away from the Church of England also seems to be an explanation why distant relatives living today simply don't know the "Barton R. V. Mills" twig on their branch of the family tree exists, let alone anything about any of the Mills family. Honestly, except for a few recollections by a few ancient relatives of George's Uncle Dudley Acland Mills, now living in Canada who do know, but apparently are not interested in the Mills family at all!


A Childless and Forgotten Family

It didn't help that all four of the Rev. Barton Mills's children died childless (unless George's brother, Arthur, had late-in-life offspring I can't locate), but there's something more to the fact that virtually no one knows or cares who these people are or that they even existed.

Except, to some degree, for the women who married into the Mills family.

In the case of Vera Beauclerk (Mrs. George Mills), her family today bviously knows about her, and she's easy to trace—being descended from William the Conqueror.

Considering Edith Ramsay (Mrs. Barton Mills, George's mother), her surviving family today knows of her, but not very much, even to the point of having documented her Christian name incorrectly [as Elizabeth]. It's as if she dropped off the very face of the Earth when she left her nuclear family after marrying Barton Mills and moving to Kensington, just blocks from Buckingham Palace. Of Edith's parents, much is known today, including the possession of a great deal of ephemera, much of which has appeared among these pages. Of Edith herself: Nothing, save the image of her as a toddler in the montage at left.

The last in-law, Lady Dorothy Mills (née Walpole, Arthur's first wife), maintained a high profile of her own as an author/explorer until a horrific car accident drove her into retirement, despite the fact that her family quite literally disowned her for marrying a soldier. They divorced in 1933. Also childless, she has been allowed to fade into obscurity since her death in 1959.

Her onetime husband, George's half-brother Arthur, apparently barely acknowledged his family, and is the best-kept secret of all the Mills siblings.


Something is amiss in all of that.

George, Arthur, and their spinster sisters—Agnes and Violet; very athletic girls, into the Girl Guides and scouting, who never found mates at all and were devoted to George, and he them—were an entire little family all of whom, sadly, had failed to reproduce to continue the family name.

Still: Why does almost no one recall that these people ever were?


George Mills at School

George had been in a great deal of pain in his life and not all of it could have been addressed with an aspirin or two. Physically slight of build, with varicose veins as a boy, and saddled with a speech impediment [possibly a lisp like his sister Aggie's, causing an unclear voice], I can see why he would've preferred sensitivity in the people around him—but boys at school probably tormented him. He basically washed out as a young scholar, spending a brief two years at Harrow. He would not have excelled at something he always loved: Sport, especially cricket. Stronger, more confident, less sensitive boys would have made his life miserable in a variety of ways, even unknowingly.

George had stockpiled many regrets based on his own preparatory schooling.


George Mills during World War I

I don't see Mills's life having been much better as a "Grade III" army recruit (unfit for most military duties) in the service during the First World War. Except for his time in the Army Pay Corps, the corps where the friend and fellow B-III, Egerton Clarke, was also assigned, the slightly built and sensitive Mills must have faced similar torments to those he'd known at school.

The army was another place where Mills would have been a failure: He was a washout as a soldier, a washout as a APC clerk, and a fellow who had been determined fit only to be a "fatigue man"—the lowest form of military life, with virtually no hope of promotion. And things, as we've seen, got worse for him after his friend Egerton was hospitalized and demobilised, leaving George in Winchester alone.


George Mills at Oxford

After having been demobilised himself, George attended Oxford for three years or so and managed to leave without having taken a degree or a single examination to earn one. The academic and social discipline required by an institution like Oxon would have been a struggle for Mills, who had lived a sheltered life, especially in regard to having been allowed to 'quit' when the going got tough, as they say, during his preparatory schooling.

Without that degree, gaining a career in which he could have been a success—and make his father (twice an Oxford graduate) proud—would prove then to be difficult.


George Mills As a Non-Author

As a youth grown into a man, George Mills had been the only male member of his immediate family who had not published a book, from his paternal grandfather on down! While that may never had been said to him directly, when the men all were discussing their books and their publishers, George had to know he was the only one just listening.


George Mills, Schoolmaster, 1926 – 1933

Failed as a schoolboy and scholar and failed in the military, by 1933 we know George also failed to hold down a regular teaching job for very long. He had moved from school to school as a teacher between 1924 and 1933 (one assignment being as far afield as Switzerland) in search of a situation. This presumably meant time spent away from his family, and even his wife.

Something during this time, however, 'clicked' for Mills.

It seems to have been spurred by his relationship with Joshua Goodland at Warren Hill School in Meads, Eastbourne [below, left]. Although Goodland had managed to take two degrees during his seven years at Cambridge, he never fully settled into a career. Goodland was an occupational nomad, veering from a career in teaching to becoming an architect, and following that, a career in law. He then returned to teaching and became Head Master at Warren Hill before eventually turning to his final vocation, serving as a vicar in the Church of England.

Goodland was a diminutive but passionate man, older than George, who had traveled around the world and possessed a myriad of skills and talents, but who lacked a sort of stick-to-it-ness (as we say in the States) that would have inspired the erratic young Mills to find success in his own life in a similar way: Not necessarily along a single, direct career path, but divergently.


In 1932, Barton Mills, George's father, passed away. This simultaneous event, a tragedy, also seems to have been a catalyst and clearly a pivotal point in George's life.


Vindication of His Failures

Mills tackled his lifelong failure issues seemingly one at a time, and began to assemble a future. Whether or not this was consciously done, we cannot tell.

He seems to have gained a great deal from his time spent at Oxford, even if he didn't earn a degree. He met and had been exposed to a sensitive class of fellows who, rather than hurting George, seem to have understood him—perhaps that was something he'd never experienced within his own family—and those well-educated men even liked and cared about him. He learned about himself as a person, as well as receiving reinforcement regarding his faith in Catholicism.

His university experience planted many seeds that would later begin to flourish.


George Mills Returns to Prep School

Some success and popularity at Oxford led Mills to do something that many children-grown-into-teachers do: Return to the scene of previous educational 'crimes' against him and others like him, intent on 'righting' many wrongs that had been perpetrated upon him while at school.

During the late 1920s and early 1930s, under the auspices of progress and enlightenment in education, he then spent time teaching in schools and being the sort of schoolmaster he'd wanted to have, I suppose: His first book is fully titled Meredith and Co.: The Story of a Modern Preparatory School.

Key word: Modern. Things now were finally different in the world of British education, and George had returned to become a part of it all.

Much of what he wanted as a schoolmaster likely was acceptance within some educational institution more than any sort of abstract revenge: During his time in the classroom he was liked and appreciated by faculty, staff, and students, all within a milieu in which he was once considered a failure.


George Mills Finds Success as an Author

After he was unable to hold onto one job for long as the world moved into a severe global economic depression, George then wrote books about his fledgling teaching career—a vocation that he may not have returned to, as far as we know. (There's no evidence he taught more than a single term after WW2.)

This process of writing and being published, in a family of both distinguished scholars and popular authors, enabled him to raise his esteem, I'm sure, in the eyes of his family, as well as in his own. We find that yet another area in which he was dismal failure could be checked off his metaphorical list, and not just barely: His books became popular and were unique in having captured much of the behavior, slang, and idiom of British Schoolboys between the wars, becoming the forerunners of a literary genre that would later flourish.

Once Mills published his third and fourth book in 1939, the label "author" could clearly and permanently be attached to him. Clouds were gathering darkly over a Europe increasingly held in the steely embrace of fascism, however.


George Mills and the Royal Army Pay Corps

There were not many failures left to vindicate, but next came George's lack of any sort of success in the military in general, and within the Army Pay Corps in particular. George had been summarily and permanently sent packing from the APC during his dismal service there during the Great War, so I understand why, while enjoying success as a writer at 43 years of age, all of that was cast suddenly aside. He obviously had put his name into the Officer's Reserve pool as a War Substitute (probably claiming to have the Oxon degree he'd falsely told his prep schools that he had earned) at the onset of the Second World War.

We find that Mills soon ended up back in the Royal Army Pay Corps in 1940, and it must have been all the sweeter when he walked in this time wearing the uniform of a 2nd Lieutenant. George then would have been walking on metaphorical air when he eventually was promoted to full Lieutenant in 1942! Check 'success' in that area off of his 'vindication list'—although it would be short-lived.

Never what we'd call a "finisher," Mills relinquished his commission as an officer in 1943, after just two years, due to "ill-health." He was awarded the honorary rank of Lieutenant.

George's life had been bombarded by loss during this time period, and he would suffer more by the end of the war—the deaths of friends (Terence Hadow, Egerton Clarke), colleagues (Capt. Wm. Mocatta, Joshua Goodland), and loved ones (his wife, Vera, and his mother, Edith), all between 1939 and 1945—which is something he admittedly had in common with the rest of the British Empire during that time frame. It is distinctly possible Mills then suffered from terrible depression.

As we know, George's "ill health" didn't permanently debilitate him, which is fortunate because George had one more item to be dealt with on his 'checklist' of youthful failures, and it would be the one that took the longest time for him to get around to vindicating.


George Mills and Sport

Where Mills was and what he was doing between the end of the war and the late 1950s is unknown: They are George's Missing Years.

By the late 1950s, however, he was playing competitive croquet out of Budleigh Salterton and had quickly and respectably shaved down his beginner's handicap. George went on to win a number of tournaments along the south coast of England before he played his last match in 1970 at 76 years of age.

It's unlikely that athletic competition was something the slight Mills had ever felt good about before the age of 60, and though I imagine his trophies could not have been described as huge, I believe they must have been treasured by him as if they had been colossal!


George Mills and Catholicism

In a world that so recently had been fought over quite violently by Fascists and Communists, there is circumstantial evidence that Mills may have had Socialist leanings during the time. Toss in the lifelong struggles George had had along the way with religion, discussed above, and Mills always seemed to have had something on his philosophical plate!

Mills attended the local Catholic church in Budleigh, where he lived his last years with his spinster sisters, Agnes and Violet, at Grey Friars on Westfield Road, next to the croquet club. With his allegedly Anglican father no longer living, and with no close relatives nearby to embarrass (Arthur had died in New Forest in 1955), he finally could be comfortable and public worshipping in his chosen faith.

One does wonder about his relationship with croquet's Maurice Reckitt, the renowned Christian socialist author who, however, was "terribly anti-Roman Catholic," according to fellow player, Dr. William Ormerod. Did they ever speak of it?


The Social George Mills

From the time of George's first teaching appointment at Windlesham House School in 1926, to his obituary written in 1973 by Lt.-Col. G. E. Cave for the Croquet Gazette, George Mills was seen as a very social man. He has been described as "sociable," exuberant," "lovable," and that "He made people laugh, a lot."

He once was also so keen on children, and was so able to become part of their world in his prep schools that he could write unprecedented and insightful books about the world of his students, books that looked far beneath the veneer of the prep school classes, curricula, and discipline and saw the inner child.

One wonders, then, why so very few people remember George.

His physician in Budleigh does, but except for a few patent comments, Dr. Evans of Budleigh isn't saying much.

Barry McAleenan, a great friend of this site, knew of Mills as a child, but only really recalled that he likely was a user of snuff. (Barry, by the way, possesses the best photograph of George Mills known publicly, and it is seen at the top of this page.)

Joanna Healing and Judy Perry remember many of the characters during that era of croquet, and while Agnes and Violet Mills are more easily recollected (especially Agnes), George Mills really is not. Not at all.

A clue arrived recently via Martin Granger-Brown, who recalled George's sister "Aggie was very haughty and posh and used to look down on people," something that could have affected public perception of George as he chose to live the final years of his life in her company.

Another clue may be found in the recollections of Dr. William Ormerod. Upon hearing George described as "exuberant," "loveable," and "enthusiastic," he replied, "Those are words I would use to describe Gerald Cave himself."

Given the speech impediment of Mills, Mills may have been extremely uncomfortable with strangers. He may also have been somewhat of a chameleon, reflecting the positive qualities of those he was with, so as to keep himself in harmony with situations that could have caused him a geat deal of social anxiety.

Perhaps Mills was "exuberant," "loveable," and "enthusiastic" with those who, themselves, acted exuberantly, lovingly, and enthusiastically with him. And it follows that those who were cold or unaware of him always would remain so, as he likely would have called no attention to himself.

This would also explain why so many were unaware, during the final years of Mills's life, of his past success as an author.


Summary

Why is a man—George Mills—who was known to be so sociable, so amusing, so full of life and laughter, and a man who not only enjoyed children but seemingly understood them as well, remembered by so very few?

The life of George Mills seems to have been divided in to two halves: Failure and Success—or at least noteworthy degrees of each.

It took fifty years, but George finally vindicated himself regarding the aspects of his life in which he felt like a failure.

It doesn't appear that he ever struggled to survive financially, and that he was a relatively popular, stylish gentleman through the end. He left us childless, as did his siblings, so there are no stories of Uncle or Grandfather George at Christmas, Baptisms, funerals, or on holidays. No stories told by him were repeated to a subsequent generations of children. No one remains, then, to recall the way he spoke, smoked, or laughed.

He ended a man about whom, following his death, very few would ever think again.


The following quote recently entered my e-mail box as part of the signature of a sender, and it immediately struck me:

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to leave the world a little better; whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is the meaning of success.
———————————————————————————————————————————————Ralph Waldo Emerson


Those are hopeful words by which we any of us might assess the true value of our lives.

Emerson's words summarize the impact that George Mills—now seemingly forgotten—had on the world. Whether or not he is remembered widely doesn't lessen any of the impact he did, indeed, have—especially on me.

Still, it's nice for someone, anyone, to be remembered, and that's what Who Is George Mills? has always been about.

Unless new information comes to light (as, I'm grateful to say, so often has happened here over the past year or more), unless I'm contacted by a relative, friend, or acquaintance who remembers George and his family, unless we receive a copy (or scan, or photocopy) of his last children's book, or unless we discover his letters or other ephemera that would help us know more in answer to the question, "Who Is George Mills?" then my work here is essentially done.

And I've enjoyed it all. Thank you so much: Everyone.


Goodbye for now, George.

Rediscovering Egerton Clarke

I'll admit that sometimes doing this research is frustrating. So much of it is names and dates, births and deaths, an address here, a telephone listing there. And from those very spare bits of data, one tries to reconstruct a life.

Who would you be if you were summarized by only your key dates, your addresses, and your phone numbers?

It's not exactly as if I simply sit by the mailbox, waiting for more, but sometimes that's more or less the form that it takes. Patience in this research is a virtue, and sometimes it pays off!

A week ago I received a message out of Toronto from Janine Le Forestier, granddaughter of Egerton Clarke [above, right; click to enlarge], whose life and friendship with George Mills we recently attempted to examine here. Since then, my mind has been spinning trying to determine how I could best organize and set forth the information she and her family have so kindly and generously shared.

In the end, I think it is best to let Janine tell the story, just as she told it to me, and to follow the thread through the past seven days. I will only interrupt her narrative to fit her information into the outline of what we already know.


Saturday, August 06, 2011 9:39 PM

Good evening:


I am fascinated. The reason for my writing is that Egerton Clarke is my grandfather. I just stumbled upon George Mills - I had googled G.K. Chesterton [left] another of my grandfather's friends - and Egerton Clarke. I am curious about your interest in him.

Would love to connect.

Janine


Sunday, August 07, 2011 11:54 PM

I am deeply touched by your interest in a man who was so loved by my mother and respected by my father.

It is quite bizarre - absurd - that now of all times, we should be communicating like this. Over the past week I have been forced to clear out my mothers office and indeed, my parents home having just had to place them in a retirement home. I will endeavour to relay your research to her and indeed to her two brothers, Michael (# 2 child born in 1928) is visiting from England on Wednesday. The third brother - the youngest (Anthony - born in 1929) closed Burns & Oates in 1970 and began his own business with much of the remaining stock as (Anthony Clarke Books).

What I have had confirmed from reading his letters and poems - some unpublished is, as you say, is that he was a very sensitive talented man, a loving husband and father. I do not recall my mother ever telling me that he took an active role during WWI and am actually shocked. It must have been incredibly difficult for him to partake of such madness on any scale.

(He wrote a lovely poem to her and I wonder if the MC you refer to, is in fact Mary Clarke. Just a thought) .

I have discovered wonderful loving letters that he wrote to her before his death, from TB in 1944. I am in the midst of going through all the letters, cataloguing them, and pulling out as much information as I can. He was deeply religious. A devout convert who lost his inheritance when he joined the Catholic Church. But I believe there was money up until then and indeed pictures I have of him as a young boy - several years after the death of his father, would confirm this. His clothes are certainly those of a little boy who was pampered [right, with mother, Emma Anna Clarke]. So I am intrigued to learn that he was poor prior to the conversion. I do know that the family relied on my grandmother's money when they were married and he was a poor business man, quickly going through it.

His sister Dorothy died in 1972 (I can confirm the date) He did have a brother. I will be able to provide you with exact dates and additional information after I have had a chance to go through what I have although I feel you have more than I do. I have a family bible, photo's of both sides of the family including, Kelly's, Sheils, Pipers, Clarkes.

My grandfather did write beautifully as did my mother, uncle and various members of the latest generation. It is in the blood I think.

This is just a quick note. I can't tell you what your research means to me.

I must pass on this to the rest of the family over the next week or so. My father has just, at the age of 92, had two surgeries. Again ironically - his memory was amazing up until a week ago. It has slipped somewhat but he will also be intrigued by this and I will confirm some details with him. I am hoping may be able to shed some light on the "missing years".



What a wonderful message! It confirms some of what we knew and provides insight into other things we did not.

Egerton Clarke's children were named Mary, Michael, and Anthony, and were born between 1926 and 1929. At least in the case of the first two, the location of the birth is recorded as Winchester.

We also learn, sadly, of the cause of Egerton's untimely death at such a young age.

And, finally, we are privy to information that would seem to contradict my assumption that young Egerton attended St Edmund's School in Canterbury, Kent, as a poor orphan out of Brittany. Clarke did have at least two relatives who were doing quite well in business: His Aunt Hannah, a widow and owner of a large farm called Thorley Wash in Bishops Stortford, Herts, and his Uncle Egerton Harry John Clarke, a London stockbroker.

The wild card here is actually what Egerton's father, Percy, left to his mother, Emma, upon his death while chaplain at Dinard, France. She may have been fairly well off herself, although her own probate in 1931 does not reflect the assets of a wealthy woman. However, by being careful, she may have lived on her own means for thirty years after Percy's passing and put Egerton through school with proceeds from his father's estate.


Monday, August 08, 2011 3:09 PM

Just to give you a wee bit more. When my grandfather was ill, they did an experimental treatment on him - deliberately collapsing his lung(s)? - the treatment failed. Clearly.

Tony (Anthony) lives in Hartfordshire and would likely know much more than I do. If you can give me a few days I will dig up as much information as possible in answer to your question. I have been going over letters this morning and he certainly was writing - and in fact had one of his poems rejected which he took very hard - this around 1942. (I have found a notebook with additional poems in it - at least I believe they are unpublished - again I must research this more closely.) I am just getting snippets and when I am more organized I will certainly provide you with what I have. I am just on my way to visit my parents and will discuss this with my father. I am excited to also speak with my Uncle Mike (Michael Egerton-Clarke) when he arrives…

Couldn't wait - just got off the phone with my Uncle. He is fascinated that you were able to get so much information, some of it new to him also. He is a bit suspicious of your intentions - don't get me wrong - he is thrilled but wonders why? I read him your letters and because my grandfather really didn't have that much attention bestowed on him Mike wonders why you would be interested. He did not know about the WW1 corp.

Thank you so much Harry for stirring all this up. Incredible.


First of all I can completely understand Mike's suspicion of my motives in researching his family. One cannot be too careful these days. I do think it is a shame, though, that Egerton Clarke did not have more attention bestowed upon him, both during his lifetime and posthumously. The reviews do show that his poetry was well-received, and I'll admit that the 'free verse' he wrote later in his career really moves me personally.

More importantly, we discover here that Egerton Clarke did not stop writing when his work was no longer being published. In fact, I can only imagine the pain he suffered when he received a rejection in 1942 after years of documented success.


Monday, August 08, 2011 11:28 PM

Just thought I would share my father's thoughts with you. I saw my parents today and my mother was having a very good day. She recognized the name George Mills, was not aware of any heart problems. She was thrilled naturally to hear of your interest in her beloved father.

In answer to the question of why he did not publish after 1939, my own father said the war profoundly affected him, especially because he was such a gentle and sensitive man. He was walking through rubble most days on his way to his office in Westminster. His beloved country was being bombed and the Germans were ploughing through his home in Dinard [right, with Nazi beach obstructions in place]. A man of his nature would not have been able to write the kind of poetry that he loved in that atmosphere. He wasn't well as he suffered from TB early in the 40's. The war would have been a disaster to his creative spirit. Also his children were sent out of London to boarding schools and he missed them terribly. He was saddened by all that was happening around him. He must have missed his children terribly.

Could he have been suffering some sort of depression or as we call it post-traumatic stress? Quite possibly - but this is personal speculation. If I am able to get a better answer from his other son Tony, I will certainly let you know.

Cheers, Janine


There isn't much that can be added to Janine's amazing insight into the life of her father during the Second World War. She has, I feel, captured him perfectly: Feeling isolated in one of the world's largest cities, ailing, seeing his world coming apart—brick by brick at times—around him. Unable to publish and share his feelings. Missing his children. Nazis with a stranglehold on his childhood home in France.

While Clarke's feelings would not have been unusual, I'm certain, during the hostilities, they remind us of how devastating the war was to individuals of the entire society. Nightmares were common on the battlefields, but on the 'home front' as well.

Here we do find out that Egerton had an office in Westminster, less than a half mile from the home of the family of George Mills, who by 1944 had relinquished a commission in the Royal Army Pay Corps as a war substitute reserve officer and was using the damaged Naval and Military Club as his mailing address.

It comes as no surprise that the name George Mills might be remembered. Egerton Clarke had helped George survive his tenure in the military during the First World War. It would be stunning to me to find out that Mills had not reached out, trying to be a comfort to his friend during the second global conflict—at least when Egerton found himself in London.


Tuesday, August 09, 2011 7:31 PM

In front of me now is a letter in which [Egerton Clarke] is answering a question my mother must have asked concerning his brother. The letter dated December 1, 1942 refers to his brother as John (Jack) Percy Dalzell Clarke born in 1892 and died 21/02/1915 - war injury likely as he served. His name comes up if you google it. Yes - there was certainly a very wealthy stockbroker and I do remember hearing about that - thank you for the memory. Dorothy Mary Clarke is Egerton's sister. She is who my mother is named after. She died in the '70's - in fact I just read a letter regarding that, too. - can't find it but it is there somewhere.

Theresa Clarke [pictured, left, as a nurse at Guys Hopital in 1922] was born in Dublin. Her mother was Clara Sheil - a twin. There was a brother James who died during the first world war - actually - after it was just over - falling off a horse I believe. You need to come up to Toronto some time and I can show you pictures of all these folk.

I am going to email my cousin in London and ask her to see if there is any correspondence from George Mills in the possession of her father Anthony. He was supposed to have had much of this type of thing.

So - off to the library tomorrow for sure to print this all off and pass to Mike upon his arrival in the evening. He was so excited last night when I called him, he was concerned he wouldn't get any sleep. He is the last with the name Egerton and I suspect very like my grandfather in temperament. A very gentle man. As is Anthony who is an incredible writer and wonderful poet - unpublished though.

So there you have it for another day.


As I've done my research here, I have always been struck by how easy it is for family members to lose track of each other. It has even happened in my own family. I have to admit, it is extremely rewarding to read, not simply of the memories of Egerton Clarke's descendants, but of the warmth that they all continue to share.

And imagine how exciting it would be to find correspondence from or about George Mills among the letters Janine mentions!

The following taut but powerful message regards the circumstances in which writers, poets, and artists would have found themselves, even long after the last shot of the war had been fired. Is it any wonder that the creative energies of many—including Egerton Clarke and George Mills—had been sapped?


Tuesday, August 09, 2011 7:39 PM

As a very small child, I remember seeing bombed out buildings in London - it was 1954 and there was such a lot of destruction still - I remember the colour gray and we still had rations [right]. Bleak and dismal. I cannot imagine what they went through and how it affected them. Especially the sensitive artistic type. Horrible. So - there seems to be a recurring theme here doesn't it?


Thursday, August 11, 2011 9:59 PM

I had a very interesting afternoon with Mike and my parents.

I read out our emails to them and a couple of points were clarified......

John Percy Dalzel Clarke died not of a war injury but from falling off a horse - on the morning of his wedding day.

James - brother of Clara Sheil - my great grandmother died during the war on the front. (there is a plaque in Liverpool which I have seen with a James Sheil mentioned on it.)

Did not know of a sister Hannah - But my uncle remembered the Thorley Wash Farm [left] and said it was sold in the 70's - a town of Thorley now sits on the property.

I meant to mention that not only is there a plaque to Percy in the Church in Dinard - but also a couple of stained glass windows.

Sounds as though there was a stock broker on both sides of the family - Theresa's and Egertons. My uncle thinks there was one on Theresa's side - - they were quite well off.

But what was interesting and pure speculation is this regarding the writing stopping in 1939.
My uncle says Egerton was fired from Burns Oates and Washbourne.

He was in charge of the Children's Branch and at some point participated in an exhibition of children's books. He was accused of claiming some books as his own when apparently they were not. He was honest to a fault. The books must have been his but since he worked for B & O, were his writings then the property of B&O. Apparently he was very distraught over this. If that is the case would George Mills have rebelled also. Egerton then went to Hutchinson's as Art Director.

[A display of Hutchinson's mid-1930s children's offerings is pictured below, right.]

So - that is the best I can do unless I can update you further if more info comes from the UK.

Hope all of this doesn't confuse the issue too much and like I said - there is some speculation here and I am sure the war also played a part as discussed earlier.

Cheers, Janine


Janine's message above bears out her speculation that her grandfather was not a businessman—but how many poets could claim to be? It seems he may have been taken advantage of in this situation. That is not to imply that there were any illegalities in his contractual relationship with Burns & Oates, but as I grow older I find out more and more that what is legal isn't always what is morally right, and it would seem that was likely the case for Egerton Clarke.

Interestingly, Egerton's family seems to have had some stake in the publishing house as we read above. Nonetheless, Clarke took his talents to Hutchinson's, which incidentally was the publisher of the brother and sister-in-law of George Mills, authors Arthur Hobart Mills and Lady Dorothy Mills, during that era.


Thursday, August 11, 2011 11:15 PM

One more thing - I was just reading another of your articles that I hadn't seen and it brought to mind a trip I made to Canterbury where I went to the Hospital of St. Thomas [left]. There on a plaque was the name of Percy Carmichael Clarke. One of the masters - didn't get a date but it was him. Egerton was definitely at St. Edmonds also.


One uncertain aspect of the life of Percy Carmichael Clarke and Emma Anna Clarke, parents of Egerton, was their relationship with the city of Canterbury, where Egerton had been born and baptized. Discovering that Percy had been one of the Masters of the Hospital of St Thomas, which still serves as an almshouse for elderly poor today, provides us that link between the Clarkes' life in Dinard and their roots back in England.


Thursday, August 11, 2011 11:52 PM

1923 Hugh Egerton - This our Egerton. He joined with a man by the name of somebody Hugh or Hugh somebody, and they published The Death of Glass and the Earring. Hugh took off with all the money.


'Hugh Egerton' would have been the name of the firm that published The Ear-ring: A comedy in one-act [London: Egerton, 1922] and The Death of Glass and Other Poems [London: Egerton, 1923].

Again, this would substantiate that Egerton Clarke clearly was not a businessman, and an eventual mistrust of publishers may have played a role in the difficulty he had in having his work published after his fractured relationship with Burns, Oates & Wasbourne.


Thursday, August 11, 2011 11:53 PM

Don't believe Egerton resided at Egerton Gdns. They were in Tisbury, Hertfordshire, for much of their lives.


Tisbury, in Wiltshire, is situated about 25 miles west of Winchester, a locale that plays a significant part in the story of Egerton Clarke. A telephone listing for him in 1929 gives his address as "Kennels Lr Lawn Cott" within the Tisbury exchange.


Friday, August 12, 2011 11:46 AM

Just got this from my cousin (Mike's daughter here in Toronto)

I think Lr would stand for lower. There was probably an upper and a lower cottage with the same name - perhaps beside each other. Just a guess.

I just asked Dad and he said yes is does mean "lower". That there was a Lower Lawn
Cottage where Tony was born and a Lawn Cottage. It is in fact not Tisbury but Fonthill
Gifford. The address might have included Tisbury in the address as it is in the next village.

Dad doesn't know anything about Egerton Gardens or even heard of it.


As of today, here is real estate information on 'Lower Lawn Cottage': "This property is located at Lower Lawn Cottage West Tisbury Salisbury SP3 6SG and has 16 houses and flats located on it. The average current estimated value for homes in SP3 6SG is £604,313."

Also, on page 247 of Wiltshire (Vol. 26, 1975), the authors, Nikolaus Pevsner and Bridget Cherry, reference information from "Mrs. C. Lloyd-Jacob" that some ancient doors originally from nearby Fonthill Abbey [above, right], from before the 1755 fire, were still in place at Lower Lawn Cottage at the time.

The Egerton Gardens locale I wrote of came from Who's Who in Literature, in both the 1928 and 1934 editions. The entry read:

CLARKE, Egerton A. C. B. 1899. Ed. Clock Tower (Keble Coll.,Oxford), 1919. Au. Of Kezil and Other Poems (Stockwell), 1920; The Earring (one-act comedy); (Hugh Egerton), 1922. Sub.-Ed. National Opinion, 1922. C. Morn. Post, West. Gaz., Colour, Even. News, Dy. Mirror, Poetry Rev., Oxford Poetry, Oxford Fort. Rev., Nat. Opinion. 73, EGERTON GARDENS. S.W.3.

I did not capitalize that address, but found it printed that way. And, since it apparently hadn't been corrected by 1934, I'll admit I assumed it was correct. On the other hand, nothing in the above entry seems very "up to date" regarding Egerton Clarke's career after the mid-1920s, despite having been published in 1934.

One wonders if it is possible that, while visiting his office in Westminster, Clarke stayed in rooms at Egerton Gardens, less than a mile away.


Saturday, August 13, 2011 12:36 PM

Here are a couple of pictures - the family shot shows Theresa, Egerton and children from left to right
Anthony, Mary and Michael 1929 - Tisbury

Not sure of the date of the single - likely early 20's.


And, with that, I have been able to use the family photographs of Egerton Clarke you have seen illustrating this entry.



At this point, that is everything that Janine and her family have generously provided. It all has been meaningful to me because so rarely has anyone become so 'fleshed out' and truly human during this research.

Egerton Clarke is a man we can begin to understand: Sensitive, talented, complex, loving, and born during a time during which many of those adult characteristics would not have been rewarded.

Egerton endured the First World War, during which he suffered from severe health issues, raised a family through a worldwide global depression, and endured the fear, loneliness, carnage, and deprivations of the rise of fascism and ruthless attacks on his childhood home in France and England itself [depicted below, right].

Clarke was among a cadre of writers and poets who lived and wrote at the time: Dorothy L. Sayers, Gerald H. Crow, G. K. Chesterton, and Mills himself. In Egerton, we see a model for how a sensitive gentleman like George Mills may also have handled the difficulties of such era.

Mills died childless, as did his siblings, ending his branch of the family tree. He largely has been forgotten.

In breathing life into the memory of George's friend, Egerton Clarke, however, Egerton's descendants have given us insight into how Mills himself may have dealt with the horrors of World War II, and why he may never have published another word either.

Thank you so much, Janine and everyone. If any readers have any additional information or insight, please contact me and I will pass it along to the family!

Eight Years Later: The Final Chapter of King Willow

The final chapter of King Willow by George Mills is entitled "Eight Years Later," and it puts the finishing touches on the first two novels of Mills, including his very first, Meredith and Co.

The chapter begins: "It was late on a Wednesday afternoon, and the last day of the Oxford and Cambridge match at Lord's. The ground looked beautiful, the blue sky and green grass combining with the gay colours of the dresses in the crowded stands to make a wonderful splash of colour."

Oxford and Cambridge became the universities where the main schoolboy characters of Mills ended up.

After the match, the three main characters of King Willow—Pongo, Finch, and Falconer, better known as Hawk—end up in the car of Pongo, whom you may recall started as a timid and tearful young boy with a speech impediment at the beginning of Meredith and Co. They begin to discuss their former headmaster, "Peter" Stone, at fictional Leadham House School.

It is here we'll pick up Mill's narrative.


Shortly after the match, the three friends entered a large car that was waiting outside the pavilion. Pongo jumped into the driver's seat, while Finch and Hawk made themselves comfortable at the back. Pongo was on his way down to Sussex, to a small village where he now lived during vacation. He was going to drop the Hawk and Finch at their London hotels before going home…

There was a long traffic hold-up, and Pongo turned around.

'What about coming down and seeing Peter on Saturday? You know he's retired, and living quite near us, in the same village. You'd better come down to lunch, and we'll drop in to tea with Peter. By the way, Hawk, you've got to come see Uggles.'

'Uggles!' cried Finch. 'Is he still alive?'

'Yes,' answered Pongo, 'but he's very shaky on his pins, poor old chap! He'll go nearly mad when he sees the Hawk! There's quite a good train at 10.45 from Victoria. I'll meet you at the other end.'

As Pongo drove off from the traffic block, his mind went back some ten years, and he saw himself once again as a trembling new boy on his mother's arm, as he had waited for the train on the platform of Victoria Station. He addressed his two friends once more.

'I've not seen much of Peter yet, but I'll tell him we're coming. He'll probably give us tea in the garden. He's got a nice little place, and the last time I saw him he was very well.'

By this time the Hawk and Finch had reached their destinations, and Pongo dropped them off with a wave of his hand and a cheery 'Well, don't forget. The 10.45 from Victoria. I'll meet you.'


Longtime readers of this site will recall a message once received from Dr. Tom Houston of Windlesham House School, where George Mills had his first teaching job in 1925-1926. Let's review some of what Dr. Houston revealed about George.


G.R.A. Mills, BA Oxon, taught 4 terms at Windlesham House School [left] from Lent 1925 until Easter 1926, and maybe part or all of the summer, but his name was taken off the staff list by end of summer term 1926…

In 1925 Windlesham was at “Southern Cross”, Portslade, near Brighton; principal Mr Charles Scott Malden; headmaster Mr H D L Paterson; and the dog, Tubby.

In April George Mills married Miss Vera Beauclerc [sic]; they bought a house on Benfield Way, Portslade…

We have no record relating to his sudden (?) departure. He could, like a handful of other prep school masters, have been excited by the General Strike (that term)…

During summer 1935 he visited Mrs Charles [Malden], 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…

Uggles may have been related to Tubby, the Malden’s popular and heroic dog. The portrait of the headmaster Peter Stone has something of Christopher Malden, who had been in effect joint head for some years; he became principal in 1927. Mills evidently had a gift for befriending boys and learning their secrets; Meredith & Co. captures the idiom of pupils during the interwar period more accurately than any other novel.


There is certainly a wealth of information in those few paragraphs.

The excerpt from King Willow above notes that Pongo had a vacation home in a small village in Sussex. Mills, during the late 1920s and early 1930s was a rather itinerant teacher who had taught not only in Sussex, but in Windermere, London, and Glion, Switzerland, during the time. This home of Pongo's, used during vacations from school, could clearly have been based on Mills's own home in Portslade.

Despite Mills having left Sussex to continue to teach, he seems always to have kept ties there, which explains the repetitive nature of locations in Sussex continually cropping up in the later life of George Mills.

1935, incidentally, was the year during which Windlesham "moved to 60 acres in the Sussex downs north of Worthing," according to a more recent correspondence from Dr. Houston. That event may have occasioned some nostalgia on the part of Mills.

By the way, Charles Scott Malden, mentioned above, had died in 1896, the year of Mills's birth, and could not have been at Windlesham during George's tenure there, although the elder Malden still may have been a legend around campus.


However, it is the actual visit to Springwells, Steyning [right], that is of greater interest here. While what follows is not in any way a non-fiction account of that visit, the occasion must have meant a great deal to George Mills.



It was Saturday afternoon at about four o'clock, and three young men might have been seen walking slowly through the street of a beautiful little village in Sussex. They were arm-in-arm and talking excitedly.

'You know,' one of them was saying, 'Peter doesn't look much older. A bit grayer, that's all.'

The three young men went on talking until they reached a short drive entered by a wide gate that had been fixed against a post. They turned in through the gate and walked up the drive. Sitting outside the house, on a balcony, was Peter, with Mrs Stone. The tea things were laid, and Peter was on the look-out. When he saw his visitors he rose and hastened down the drive to meet them. He shook each hand cordially, his eyes sparkling with joy.

'Well, Falconer and Finch, this is a pleasure. Ogilvie [Pongo] told me you were coming down, and we were expecting you.'

The Hawk kept on looking at Peter. The grand old man had changed but slightly. He was as erect as ever, but perhaps somewhat more portly. He led the way up to the house, where Mrs Stone gave them all a very warm welcome.

Peter certainly had found a beautiful home. The house, an old farmstead, stood in a small but perfect garden. A little lawn stretched away from it, and a kitchen garden was at the back. Rose trees dotted about and well-kept flower-beds made the scene from the little balcony one of great beauty. Peter indicated some comfortable wicker chairs and Mrs Stone began to pour out the tea.

When the young men had settled themselves down, Peter talked about the match.

'I wish I had been there. That must have been a hot catch of yours, Falconer. The papers were full of it.'

'Oh, yes, sir,' laughed the Hawk. 'I told Finch that it was a bit of a fluke. He hit it straight at me, sir.'

During the serious business of tea there was little conversation. Peter kept glancing at the three boys, now grown to men, and he was very proud of them. Soon after tea Mrs Stone excused herself and left the men together. They produced their pipes and settled down to talking. They had eight years to bridge—eight years of ups and downs, of successes and failures at their public schools. Peter listened intently, allowing them to talk on.

After a while the conversation turned to the future and the careers they intended to adopt. The boys asked Peter's advice on all manner of subjects, and he did his best to answer them. Gradually, however, the as was only natural, the talk reverted to Leadham House, but this time Peter did not listen. As he sat back in his chair, blowing clouds of tobacco from his pipe, he was gazing into the future. He saw the three boys, now on the threshold of manhood, all making names for themselves and doing credit to their professions.

He knew their characters and feared nothing. He saw Finch destined for the Bar, a just and fearless judge, honoured by all men. Ogilvie, who was going into the army after his university career, Peter saw as a great soldier and administrator. But when he thought of Hawk, Peter smiled to himself. Falconer had been his favorite pupil, but Peter would not have admitted it to anybody. He knew that the hawk was to reach great heights, and he saw him as a priest in one of the poorest London parishes, cheerful and smiling, with a horde of ragged children clinging joyfully to the skirts of his cassock. He saw him in the midst of squalor and poverty going on his splendid way of radiating love and happiness. As he sat on the balcony that afternoon, entirely unconscious of the conversation going on around him, Peter's mind sped back through the years, and saw the Hawk, once more the grubby, laughing schoolboy devoted to sport and animals…


In this paragraph, filled with Peter's fictional reveries, we find some hidden real-life tributes.

First, Finch had earlier in the chapter been the batsman for Cambridge referred to by Falconer.

Finch is destined for the Bar out of Cambridge—much like the well-rounded mentor of George Mills at Warren Hill School in Eastbourne, Joshua Goodland [left]. While Goodland would never become a judge—Joshua would, in fact, pass away the next year while serving as vicar of the parish of Compton Dundon—it's probable that Goodland had shared with George the thought that if he'd stayed in his law career he might have at some point. After all, becoming a judge would have been the next logical step in his legal career. That step, however, was never taken: Goodland instead bought into Warren Hill School and eventually became owner and Headmaster. Perhaps it had been with regret that Goodland spoke of it with George.


And if this fictional visit to a village in Sussex reflects Mills's own visit there in 1935, it's interesting to note that 1935 was also the year in which Fr Basil Jellicoe, the noteworthy and charismatic reformer from the parish of St Pancras, had passed way from pneumonia at just 37 years of age—but most attributed his death to overwork on behalf of the London's poor children.

We've surmised there must have been a relationship between Jellicoe and Mills before, one that would have stemmed from George attending Oxford, where Jellicoe had run the Magdalen College Mission, which was manned by volunteer students from the university.

Once again, this indicates at the very least some admiration for Jellicoe [right] on the part of Mills, and even suggests that—given the intimacy that fictional Peter Stone exhibits in his knowledge Falconer above, as the latter graduates from Oxford—that the Mills and Jellicoe had been close friends.


Lastly, Peter envisions Pongo as an army officer who would make a "great soldier and administrator." Pongo as a timid young boy with a speech impediment (a lisp), as we know, was based on Mills himself.

So here we have a great clue: Pongo's character soon would be off to the army as an officer after of Oxford.
Mills, along with most others, must have seen war brewing in Europe. Soon after the publication of King Willow in 1938, George would be named an officer in the Royal Army Pay Corps out of the officer's reserve in 1940—interestingly, something Jellicoe had done following university, when he entered the navy as an officer during the First World War.


Spending WWII as a war substitute officer [left] certainly must have appealed to Mills. With the advent of hostilities in China and Europe signaling renewed global violence, a return to the military, this time as a officer, must have been on his mind.

So, here we have some evidence that Mills was already beginning to think that he might not spend the rest of his life writing books, especially as we can see that he was sending his most popular literary characters out into the world as adults.

George had been a failure in the Army Pay Corps during WWI, and in choosing Pongo for duty as an administrator in the army, he was—perhaps unknowingly—charting the same course for himself.


As we close things out at Who Is George Mills?, it seems natural that the examination of this chapter would fall close to the end of our work here. With that in mind, I'd like to finish it out to its end, as Peter sits among his billowing smoke, contemplating the future of the boys:


Then for no apparent reason he raised his eyes, and looked down the drive. What he saw made him sit up and smile.

'Ogilvie,' he asked suddenly, 'why didn't you bring Uggles to-day? I have not seen him for some time, and I was expecting him.'

Pongo laughed.

'Well, sir, he's rather weak on his legs these days, and he was so pleased at seeing the Hawk again that I thought it might be too much for him.'

Peter smiled expansively.

'He seems to have settled that point for himself. Here he comes!'

The three young men looked down the drive and rose to their feet. Uggles was labouriously coming towards them, puffing with his exertions, and Ogilvie laughingly called over to him.

'Come along, old chap, stir those stumps of yours!'

But the old bulldog found the pace altogether too hot for him. He was in extreme old age, but radiantly happy. Every few yards he lifted his head and looked up at his lord and master with devotion streaming from his eyes now growing dimmer. He ambled along slowly towards the spot where his friends were awaiting him, and snuffled as he went.



With that ending, King Willow closes with a paean both to the past and George's love of dogs, but with eyes focused clearly on the future.

George Mills was 42 years old when the book was published and surrounded by notes for his next two texts (which would both be published in 1939), but he was, himself, looking forward as well. Mills, who had known many more failures in his life than successes to that point, would begin to turn things around and make right many of the perceived wrongs he'd endured in his past.

This last scene, with a contemplative Peter wreathed in smoke and the worthy and loyal Uggles snuffling back to his friends, is the sort of sentimental tableau that Mills must have envisioned for himself at the end of his own life.

But before that could be, Mills had some unfinished business. First, his failed relationship with the military would need to be mended, leaving him with a point of pride there instead of a closeted shame.

We'll take a look at the ways in which Mills began to work steadily to vindicate what he perceived to be his failures next time.