The Craig School in Windermere

Not much time to write today, but here’s another find: Images of a place that up until today I couldn't have been sure existed. Information from Windlesham House told me that "The Craig" in Windermere, Westmorland, Cumbria, opened its doors in 1899. For some reason, though, I'd been unable to connect with anything else about it.

That is until this morning, when I discovered:

The Craig School was founded in 1899 by William Snow in a house which had been built in 1833. The school carried on as normal during the war, with the upper and lower playing fields and the main building in use. There were between 40 and 60 boarders at a time. The School closed in 1966 and a housing estate now stands on the site.

George Mills would have taught there between 1926 and 1933, likely after his stint at Warren Hill School in Eastbourne, according to his dedication to Meredith and Co. in 1933.

I also happened upon this letter to the Cumberland & Westmorland Herald by Penelope Grierson (nee Hewetson) written on 29 January 2005:

"Sir, Many of your readers will remember a boys’ prep school in Windermere, called The Craig, which started in 1899 and closed in 1966. The two headmasters were William Snow (1899-1936) and his son-in-law, Edward Hewetson (1936-1966).

It was located in Lake Road between the police station and Beresford Road. The boys went on to public schools (St. Bees, Sedbergh, Rossall, Shrewsbury and St. Edward’s, Oxford, amongst others), some of them winning scholarships.

Cricket and football were keenly taught and played, and the boys had regular expeditions to the hills, especially climbing Helvellyn each summer to see the sunrise.

Geoffrey Fallows (1950-1955) is writing a book giving the story of The Craig and invites all old boys with memories of their time at the school to get in touch with him."

I hope their reunion went exceptionally well and was very rewarding…

And, as always, if you have any information about George Mills and the time he spent working under Headmaster William Snow at The Craig—or anywhere else—please let me know!

St Bernardus in the Chancel North window and Revd. B. R. V. Mills

Ask and ye shall receive, as the verse goes…

I don't recall exactly how I found what I hadn't quite expected—searching the internet is like trying to see one of those weird Magic Eye images instantly, looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack, and doing all of the "across" clues in the Times Sunday Crossword without having a glance at the "downs", all at once.

Especially given the proclivity of newspapers and periodicals of the late 19th and early 20th century to play fast and loose with things like spelling—I've seen George Mills' surname spelled Mill, Milles, Hills, and Miles, as well as seeing virtually every editor on every newspaper more than 100 miles from London "correct" the Earl of Orford, turning him into the "Earl of Oxford"—it can be tough to search every conceivable permutation of every sentence, phrase, or series of letters in a word.

Do some math and you'll quickly find out how many different possibilities there might be to search for, say, George's father, Reverend Barton Reginald Vaughan Mills, once vicar in Bude, Cornwall. Just try searching his name with each of Reverend, Rev., and Revd. tacked on, and you may not just get tired of checking each plethora of results, you may get simply tired of typing. Try it with all of various combinations of his initials and it gets even more time consuming.

And sometimes you can't even predict how an internet source will read. My best example: "ABTHT7B MILLS, Bbq., IC.P." = "ARTHUR MILLS, Esq., M.P." That's George's father, pictured right. I wish I could say it was anything but luck that allowed me to work that one out!

Anyway, I was running a search on Google for "Revd Barton Mills" when I stumbled upon this record in The National Archives, among the Diocesan Records in the Cornwall Record Office: "[no title] D/R/10/7 27 May 1932 Contents: Erection of stained glass memorial window to the Revd. Barton Mills wwith bronze tablet, with correspondence and design."

Cool! I immediately sent of an e-mail to the Diocese at Truro, and, fter having my message forwarded around the Diocese, I received the following reply:

Dear Mr Williams

I have the following information on the window at St Michael & All Angels parish church at Bude Haven.

The single light window is located in Chancel North. It was inserted in 1932 (Faculty granted on 6th July 1932). It was designed by Hubert Blanchford of Exeter, a local studio with a very small output, but responsible for three windows at Bude. It is dedicated to Revd Barton Reginald Vaughn Mills, and I have a note that he was an authority on St Augustine. I have no details of the content of any memorial plaque. I have attached a photograph, and apologise for the poor quality.

Best wishes on your research

Michael Swift
Stained glass adviser to the Diocese of truro

Many thanks, Michael, to you and the Diocese of Truro for both the information and the image. What a wonderful memorial and tribute to a man and his life's work, may he rest in peace. If you do click the image, it will enlarge it some!

I didn't know that about Barton and St. Augustine. I knew [and you can see from the window] his special interest at one point in his career was St Bernard of Clairvaux, although that was some years after he left the vicarage at Bude Haven in 1901. I am, however, hot on the trail of a friend of Barton's, the Revd. Watkin W. Williams [one of the clerics presiding over the wedding of George Mills and Vera Beauclerk in 1925]. I believe Williams also wrote on St. Bernard, and that he and Barton Mills helped each other research, translate, and interpret his writings. Watkins did, I'm certain, attend St. Augustine Missionary College in Canterbury. A link? Who knows?

I do know Williams was rector in Drayton St. Leonard, pictured at right, and I'm waiting to hear from them, although I understand that it was long ago...

Well, while I wisely wait for word on Watkin Wynn Williams, I'm sure we all wish for me wisdom: The wisdom of knowing when to stop using alliteration in such an annoying way!

A Glimpse into a 19th Century Acland Family Photo Album

On this warm and wonderful afternoon here in Florida, due to the modern miracle of the internet, we're about to travel back in time to "see" the world through the eyes of young George Mills, his half-brother Arthur Frederick Hobart, and his older sister, Agnes Edith.

Thanks to a portfolio donated to the University Of Canterbury [Te Whare Wānanga o Waitaha, in Maori] in Christchurch, New Zealand, by the Acland family [descendants of Sir Thomas Dyke Acland, 10th Baronet, of Killerton, Broadclyst, Devon, the maternal great-grandfather of George Mills] after they emigrated, we can see Cornwall, Devon, and much of southern England exactly as it looked to the very young Mills siblings, circa the late 1880s or the 1890s. [Click an image to see it full-sized.]



This amazingly unexpected photograph is labeled "Mills driving horses," so I suppose we're to assume that's George's grandfather, Arthur Mills, Esq., M.P., there at the reins. The passengers may be visitors to his home, but if so, would I be wrong in assuming he'd be sitting with his guests? My hunch is that he's taking out the family, but what do I know?

Would it also be wrong of me to assume that smartly dressed fellow in the carriage could be Revd Barton R. V. Mills, Vicar of either Poughill or Bude, and he could be sitting with his mother, Lady Agnes, and possibly his first wife, Lady Catherine [who passed away in 1889] or Elizabeth Edith Ramsay Mills, whom Barton married on 10 January 1894?
Lady Agnes died on 23 May 1895, so if that is both Elizabeth and Lady Agnes, that certainly narrows the list of possible dates on which this image could have been taken. Should it perhaps be Lady Catherine, this image would then be of an 1887 to 1889 vintage.

Barton's brother, Col. Dudley Acland Mills, was an officer in the Royal Engineers who is not found anywhere in either the 1891 or 1901 census. It seems unlikley that the he's the gentleman in the carriage. Barton, however, was listed in the 1891 census as living at 128 Efford Down, Cornwall, with his mother Agnes Lucy, father Arthur, and his son, young Arthur F. H. Mills, who was then 3 years old. Put this address, Efford Down Park, Bude, Cornwall EX23 8SE, UK, into Google Maps and see if you don't think this is the same place!

This is the lovely church at Poughill. Reverend Barton R. V. Mills was rector there from 1887, to 1889. Arthur Frederick was born in 1887, and Lady Catherine, young Arthur's mother, died in 1898. Is it likley this was taken during that time by the Aclands to show visitors the church where their grandson Barton was vicar?


This beautiful picture was taken on one of the Acland estates. Young George Mills was born in 1896, and his half-brother Arthur was 9 years older than George. Is it possible that this healthy looking lad could be young Arthur visiting Killerton?


This gorgeous image shows the Cornish coast that the Mills family must have known and loved so well. While I know that could be anyone who just happened to wander into the photograph, it still makes me wonder...


Why are this boy and, I suppose, his mother, so disinterested in someone taking outdoor photographs in Bude Haven in the 1890s? Could that have been such an everyday occurrence, compared to seeing a sailboat? It occurs to me they must have had the same interest as the photographer, having accompanied him to this spot: That wonderful vessel! Could that lad be young Arthur—or even George Mills himself? After all, how many tots in Bude would have likely been that disinterestedly close to a party of traveling, photographing, parasol-wielding Aclands?

If that is, George, date this image 1898 or 1899. And, if it's Arthur, make it 1891 or 1892. And perhaps it was different in the late 19th century, but I can't imagine why the Aclands would've taken the camera to Bude if not on an visit to see Arthur, Barton, and the children...

And in this photograph of the coast, we see a panorama of Bude Haven. It features the stately home of Arthur Mills, Esq., M.P. resting comfortably atop the hill.

Here's yet a closer shot of the Mills family's residence in Bude. Nice place, eh? I wonder what it costs to heat, though...


This image depicts Killerton in Devon. Barton and Dudley Mills were raised there as young boys until it was off to boarding school. The only residents of this manor listed in the 1861 census were Sir Thomas, himself, and "Barton Reginald Vaughan Mills (age 3) and Dudley Acland Mills (age 1) (Children of Arthur Mills, Esq., M.P.), + 18 servants." The boys' father would have been either in London, serving at the time as the Tory M.P. from Taunton, or may have been on one of his many excursions abroad. Mills had recently published his definitive book on the costs of the Sepoy Mutiny and the state of the colony, India in 1858.

This time, we've actually entered Killerton of the 1890s. The painting is entitled "Great Sir Thomas Dyke Acland, 10th Baronet," and was painted by William Owing. Sir Thomas had died in 1871, having been succeeded by Sir Thomas Dyke Acland, 11th Baronet, but obviously is still watching son-in-law Arthur Mills like a hawk.


Before returning to the 21st century, let's just take a look at a few images of the southern England of the late 18th century that the family of George Mills must have loved so dearly...

1914: George's Brother Goes to War

Yesterday, we looked at the later career of Arthur F. H. Mills, the brother of George Mills. Educated at Wellington College and Sandhurst before entering the military in 1908, though, he eventually became a captain and a "Platoon Commander," a pseudonym he used in writing his first book, With My Regiment: From the Aisne to La Bassée [Lippincott: Philadelphia, 1916]—actually a compilation of articles written for The English Review, The Evening Standard, and The Westminster Gazette.

Arthur's writing at this time is measured and a bit stoic, even impersonal, under what must have been very passionate circumstances. As an American, I can't help but stereotypically think of Lieutenant Chard in Cy Enfield's Zulu, only in khaki. According to the book, presumably just after the United Kingdom declared war on Germany on 3 August 1914, Mills is "staying at the time in a large house by the banks of the Thames" with his hostess, a mother of soldiers who "said goodbye to her eldest boy, who was to go with the first troops that left England, arranged for the outfit of her two second sons, and sent for her baby from Eton, whom she saw dispatched to the Royal Military College."

Mills continues, "I went up to London to my rooms to collect a few things." The 1911 census shows Arthur's father, Barton, and his step mother, Elizabeth, living at 12 Cranley Gardens, S.W., in twenty rooms [not counting the scullery, bathrooms, office, shop, or closets] with Arthur's half-sisters, Agnes and Violet, and seven servants. George must be at Harrow. Barton is no longer at the Savoy, having left there in 1908, and its uncertain what his employment at the moment might have been. He still, however, lists his occupation as "Clergyman, Church of England." Arthur's "rooms" still may have been among these, even at 27 years of age.

While his landlady helped him pack, Arthur "ransacked drawers [and] came on a bundle of letters and absurd comic postcards. the letters had a faint scent of violet about them. They had to be sealed up and left behind, with directions for their disposal if I didn't come back."

In the most stunningly personal note in the book's introduction, Mills writes: "And there was a photograph to be taken from the mantelpiece and put in a pocket book, a photograph which had been in many places with me. Well, now it must go on its travels again. I got an aching in the back of my throat and hurried to my club for a drink."

About his actual departure, Mills continues: "Many women had come to see their menfolk off, and some to travel with them as far as they could." Does his observation here imply that no one came to see off Arthur as he set off to war, especially no special girl?

Mills would marry Lady Dororthy Walpole in 1916. He's quite obviously not then in the trenches. In August, 1914, he's lingering over violet-scented letters. Are they from Lady Dorothy?

They aren't from Arthur's mother. Arthur was born in 12 July in the year that his father was installed as vicar of Poughill, Cornwall, 1887. The Reverend Mills had just departed from a position as chaplain in San Remo, Italy, and must have arrived to take his new position by July as Arthur is listed as being born in Stratton, Cornwall.

However, Arthur's mother, the Lady Catherine Mary Valentia Hobart-Hampden, passed away on 25 September 1889, the same year his father leaves the vicarage at Poughill. Arthur is just two years old, and Barton, left with a young son, doesn't return to work as a clergyman until taking over as vicar of Bude Haven, Cornwall, in 1891.

If I were a betting man, and I'm typically not, I'd wager it was a photo of his mother that had accompanied young Arthur on his travels to Wellington College in Berkshire, to the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst, into the service in 1908, and off to France in 1914.

Although locations in the book are almost always deleted with a long dash [the war was continuing at that point, after all], we can assume by his book's dedication [left] that his story takes place at least in some part near La Bassee, a commune in northern France near the border with Belgium, some time after 21 October, 1914. Covered with mud from the trenches while fighting alongside the Dorchester and Westshire regiments, Mills is shot in both legs and evacuated, eventually to Plymouth, where he spends five days convalescing. And, upon being given permission to travel with the intention of ending up in London, Arthur ends the book.

Mills follows this story with a book called Hospital Days [T. Fisher Unwin: London, 1916], and the cover art depicts a soldier standing just as Mills had described himself, waiting to board a hospital ship for England, in With My Regiment: "I smiled gratefully at the doctor, tied the ticket round my neck, put on a woollen waistcoat, muffler, and dressing gown (all presented to me by the hospital) over my pyjamas, and waited my turn to be carried downstairs."

Before, however, on a troop train to the base hospital in Boulogne, Mills recalls in With My Regiment: "The visit from the hospital nurse is one of the things I remember most clearly from an otherwise clouded period. It was the first taste of the infinite sympathy and solicitude which women give to men returned fro the war. All who have experienced it—as every wounded man has in abundant measure—must have felt that anything that he has suffered was worth such a reward."

Mills is definitely implying here that this was the first of his subsequent 'tastes' of the pleasure of feminine attention. While I'm sure his half-sisters met his with pride and affection, there seems to be something that will blossom into being more than just familial within this description.

That's echoed in this tender excerpt from With My Regiment regarding his stay in Boulogne. He had arrived some 10 days after receiving his wounds and awaited surgery: "I had been in the same clothes for a fortnight and they were very muddy, and I remember having my breeches cut off and being helped into a flannel night-shirt. I woke later to find a nurse beside me with a basin of water. 'Would you like to wash?' she asked. I gazed at her apathetically. 'Come on then, I'll do it for you,' she said kindly. She dipped a piece of flannel in the basin and rubbed it gently over my face. Then she took one of my hands and rubbed that; then streaks of white appeared down my fingers as the caked mud was cleared. 'There, I think that is all we'll do for the present,' she said, and feeling beautifully clean—though in reality with ten days' beard and looking perfectly filthy—I lay back on the pillow."

Arthur and Lady Dorothy are listed in records as having been married in Middlesex. Her penchant for travel and adventure—she journeyed abroad with her mother and enjoyed hunting with her father as a girl—likely made Mills a quite appealing suitor upon his return from the horrors he'd endured on the continent [What remained of La Bassée is seen in stereoview, left, circa 1915]. They were soon married, apparently with Lady Dorothy wearing a wedding ring made from the bullet that the surgeon had extracted from Arthur's ankle in Boulogne!

With little household income, Arthur and Dorothy pay the rent in 1916 by each publishing a book, Arthur's text above [which had apparently been first sold in bits to periodicals], and Dorothy's novel, Card Houses.

Lady Dorothy researcher and academic James Earl Wallace has written, "My hunch is Lady Dorothy Mills was a very minor writer who got published at the peripheral of the literary world." If that's true, her listing in the 1933 edition of Who's Who in Literature: The Literary Yearbook next to the entry for A.A. Milne seems at least a bit odd.

Clearly, if Lady Dorothy was a 'very minor writer,' her husband Arthur's career was virtually microscopic—he is not included in the volume—although the fact that the availability of With My Regiment: From the Aisne to La Bassée to this day [You can download it by clicking here and then clicking PDF] gives Arthur a bit of internet immortality that Lady Dorothy doesn't seem to have—yet.

At that point in 1933, apparently, Lady Dorothy lived at 91 Ebury Street, London, S.W. [pictured with open windows, right]. What I don't know is whether that was her residence before, during, or after she was using The Ladies' Empire Club, 69 Grosvenor Street, W., as her address. It was a confusing period of time.

Events had occurred in the lives of both Arthur and Lady Dorothy in the early 1930s that helped their tear their marriage— a union, as we have seen, likley based at least in part on the tenderness shown by a kind-hearted woman toward a wounded soldier—asunder.

But we'll examine those events—and the life of Lady Dorothy Mills—more closely another time.

And, as always, if you've anything to add, take issue with, or want to comment on, please let me know!

Tracing the Career Arc of One Arthur Frederick Hobart Mills

What a prolific family! The Mills family that I find myself investigating may not have achieved immortality in the minds of men, but their knack for having their written words published [or editing or translating the works of others] makes one happy that there was no worldwide shortage of printer's ink in the last century and a half. They certainly went through their share, especially Capt. Arthur Frederick Hobart Mills [left, after a trip to China]!

Just arrived here in sun-drenched Ocala, Florida, via first class mail is The Apache Girl by Arthur Mills [W. Collins Sons & Co., Ltd.: London], half-brother of George Mills and 9 years George's senior, born on 12 July, 1887. He was the husband of Lady Dorothy Mills, yet another author. This edition is the Fifth Impression, dated June, 1932. The First Impression had been published in April, 1930.

And what a difference a genre makes! A novel of "love and adventure," The Apache Girl's 'tale of the tape' has it stepping in at 12 x 18.5 cm, and 2.5 cm thick. By comparison, yesterday's arrival, The Road to Timbuktu, is 15 x 22 cm, and 3.5 cm thick. Of course, The Road to Timbuktu is replete with photographic illustrations printed on far more lustrous paper, and Lady Dorothy Mills's 1924 volume a non-fiction book, almost a reference text in a way, despite its first person narrative.

Also, perhaps the worldwide Great Depression factored in. The Apache Girl has no endpapers—there's printing from cover to cover, including two pages of advertisements for other "Detective Novels" at the end. The paper has been calendared to be thinner, and the typeface [Remember when "fonts" were "typefaces"?] is quite a bit smaller. All of these modifications would have helped the company during stressful economic times.

The Apache Girl is from a series called "Collins' New 1/˗ Fiction Library." The series included works by Agatha Christie, Philip MacDonald, Edgar Wallace, and Dorothy Sayers [listed in this edition without the "L."], so it appears that Mills was still in good company in 1932. All of the writers with whom he is associated here are credited with writing "Detective Novels" for Collins, not merely inexpensive stories.

Interestingly, 1930 was the year that Collins Sons & Co., Ltd., began their "Collins Crime Club" imprint, which ran through 1994. Wikipedia lists approximately 250 writers in a "complete" list of Collins Crime Club authors who published first editions of their mysteries and thrillers with that house. That's a great many writers, and our Arthur Mills, unfortunately, is nowhere to be found among them.

For Mills to be associated with detective novelists MacDonald, Sayers, Wallace, and Christie in the "New 1/˗ Fiction Library," and in the same year [1932] to have found himself snubbed from gaining membership in the new "Collins Crime Club," may be telling. It would seem that later books by Mills could have been "Crime Club" material simply by scanning their titles: Paris Agent [1935], Brighton Alibi [1936], Jewel Thief [1939], and Don't Touch the Body [1947]. Perhaps Mills was their 251st best crime writer, and one has to draw the line somewhere!

Was this simply Collins Sons & Co.'s way of separating their wheat from the chaff? Mills, no longer a rising star, was almost 45 years old when this edition was printed. There is another clue to his reputation at that time. Across from The Apache Girl's title page, a blurb cites a recent, and presumably positive, review of the book: "BYSTANDER SAYS: 'Mr. Mills knows how to make the most of his materials. A good yarn.'"

A good yarn? Random House Dictionary defines yarn in this context as "a tale, esp. a long story of adventure or incredible happenings: He spun a yarn that outdid any I had ever heard." That's really damning Mills with faint praise, especially when one considers what is implied by "makes the most of his materials." That was one of the two best reviews around? Quite a fall for an author who was quite favorably reviewed just 5 to 10 years before.

A quick check of internet images of Collins books by Arthur Mills shows the ones seen haven't been anointed with any designation as being from the "Collins Crime Club". Looking at a couple of editions of 1932's One Man's Secret, another mystery by Mills, it's easy to see, on what appears to be an earlier edition complete with provovative dust jacket, that this book is still a part of Collins' 'one-schilling' library. Interestingly, Mills does have his very own catchphrase: "Mills for Thrills!"

A second edition of that book I've found is a paperback, part of the Collins "White Circle Books" imprint, a series apparently saddled at the time with uniform, pink covers that rob the text of its individuality, and replete with a bobby blowing a whistle as well as a white circle at lower left designating it as: "A Collins Mystery: Guaranteed of a Good Thrill". With all of the books in this series bearing the same cover design, with only the title [printed plainly in sans-serif block caps] to distinguish any particular offering, it would seem that these frugally designed and cheaply constructed novels were created to be consumable, and were perhaps among the first mass-market paperbacks. Collins even sold advertising space on the back covers!

The following information is found on a website called Fly-By-Night: Canadian Paperbacks of the 40s and Early 50s: "Wm. Collins Sons & Co. Ltd. published approximately 825 books in their White Circle paperback imprint from 1936 until 1959 in Britain. They also published White Circles in Australia, New Zealand, Canada and India."

At least in Canada, these White Circle Books were apparently terrific sellers, at least until the Harlequin series of novels overtook them.

There's evidence that Agatha Christie—arguably the most famous member of the Collins Crime Club—was sold simultaneously as both a Crime Club and White Circe novelist. But I can't find any evidence that Mills ever had the same opportunity.

As I hold this small, cloth-bound edition of The Apache Girl, with its plain, cobalt blue boards, stained and faded, and its gilt-imprinted spine, sadly tarnished, I wonder about Arthur Mills.

His earlier books had been translated into French, German, and even Swedish, and sent around the empire, meaning around the entire globe. Many of his titles crept into multiple printings, up to a half-dozen impressions or more, and when one publisher was finished, another was often there to pick up one Mills' yarns and take it to the streets. I've counted 50 different full-length books authored by Arthur Frederick Hobart Mills, and there are countless short stories in magazines of the era, written under the pseudonyms "Platoon Commander", "Arthur Mills", "Arthur Hobart Mills", and even "Frederick Hobart." And, please understand, I don't mean to pretend that I have compiled even close to an exhaustive list of his work by any means.

I did find a mystery of Mills' for sale on-line, Café in Montparnasse, about which the seller wrote, with my emphasis: "Collins, Great Britain. March 1941, 5th printing, 1941. Soft cover. Book Condition: Very Good. 5th or later Edition. This is the British paperback in less than very good condtion. This pb is scarce and uncommon. Scans availiable on request. Shipping will be reduced to $3.50. Author is Frederick Hobart who used the pen name Arthur Mills."

That last line, we know, is backwards, but Mills did write short story fiction for magazines throughout his career under various names, including Frederick Hobart.

It has been noted, but bears repeating, that at the time of his 1916 wedding, Mills was considered "a handsome and well connected man but with little money." Pounding out 48 full-length books between 1921's Ursula Vanet and 1954's The Maliday Mystery—34 years, inclusive—was quite an undertaking. It seems that Mills likely outworked his reputation as a humble but well-educated officer in the armed forces, but one with no real economic advantages, by sheer perspiration, if not inspiration.

Seventeen—fully one-third of the book titles I've found that were written by Mills—contained between 245 and 255 pages. And all but one of those 17 titles had been published between 1929 and 1940.

As near as I can tell, Mills only published six new titles after after Collins published his White Negro in 1940: Don't Touch the Body [Collins Sons & Co., Ltd.: London, 1947], Shroud of Snow [Evans Bros.: London, 1950], Last Seen Alive [Evans Bros.: London, 1951], Your Number Is Up [Evans Bros.: London, 1952], The Jockey Died First [Staples Press: London, 1953], and his last novel, The Maliday Mystery [Staples Press: London, 1954]. Those last six titles averaged only 218 pages apiece.

Mills, although obviously eschewing retirement, was slowing down. He passed away on 18 February, 1955.

In a blurb in 1951's Last Seen Alive [Ironic, isn't it?], Mills is described thusly, with my emphasis: "Mr. Mills is presently living in Hampshire where his main recreations are golf and gardening. In addition to books of short stories, he has published over twenty novels."

Even in his prime, could his books actually have been considered to be formulaic—comprising almost exactly 250 pages each from 1929 to 1940, no matter the publisher, be it Collins or Hutchison and Co., London? The range in size of 16 books spanned over 11 years was a mere five sheets of paper at the most. That may be amazingly consistent or simply coincidental. Still, I know American pulp fiction writers in the 1930s and '40s were often paid by the word, and quickly learned to meet their goals in the areas of both prose and paychecks!

The notion of "pulp fiction" brings another thought to mind. Was Mills simply regarded as a "hack" by the onset of the Second World War, even after beginning his writing career with seemingly so much promise, something that led his work and his life to be generally forgotten by the industry and the public as well?

I can't help but wonder why Mills published just a single book book, Don't Touch the Body [Collins, 1947], in the full decade between 1940 and 1950. Did the war have anything to do with it? Had he nothing to say, perhaps? Didn't he need the money? Had he been ill or suffered an injury? Couldn't he find a publisher? Was he just tired of writing—something that's been suggested about the brief career of George Mills as an author?

Who knows?

But there may be some clues in his marriage to Lady Dorothy, a childless union that was cut short after what must have been a roller-coaster period in both of their lives.

And we'll look at all of that next time—unless something else comes up!

Lady Dorothy's latest journey: San Jose, California, to Ocala, Florida

Having enjoyed a lovely Easter Sunday, I'm now savoring my Spring Break from school, a week of relaxation that coincides with the return of Major League Baseball. As I sat and watched Barack Obama throw out the ceremonial Opening Day first pitch in this afternoon's game between the Washington Nationals and my beloved Philadelphia Phillies [The Phils crushed them, 11 to 1], I heard a thump near the front door through my open window.

I tore quickly through the quirky wrapping of the package that had just arrived from San Jose, California, and found in it the beautiful, if ever-so-gently worn, first edition copy of The Road to Timbuktu by Lady Dorothy Mills [Duckworth and Co.: London, 1924] that I'd ordered last week. Much like seeing Maggie Smith today, this aged volume is quite impressive and still conjures up all of the wonders of how extremely attractive it must have been in its youth!

Lady Dorothy, you may recall from an earlier post, was sister-in-law to George Mills, having married his half-brother, Arthur Frederick Hobart Mills, in 1916.

Arthur was described at the time as being "a handsome and well connected man but with little money" as well as Lady Dorothy's cousin—something I'm still trying to verify. Born on 12 July, 1887, Arthur's mother was Lady Catherine Mary Valentia Hobart-Hampden, who held the rank of daughter of an Earl, and his father, Revd. Barton R. V. Mills became the Vicar of Poughill, Cornwall that same year.

Arthur attended Wellington College's Hardinge House from 1900 through 1903, and then went to Sandhurst before being "gazetted" into the Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry. It likely occurred when the Territorial Force was formed on April 1, 1908, as a result of the Territorial and Reserve Forces Act of 1907. He probably was assigned to the 5th Battalion of the 214th Infantry Brigade.

Mills served in China, France, and Palestine and wrote two books on the subject, one of which is still in print today. He married Lady Dorothy Rachel Melissa Walpole, daughter of Robert Horace Walpole, the last Earl of Horford, and Louise Melissa Corbin, an American who was born in Helena, Montana, but who had spent a great deal of her youth in the spas of Europe.

Lady Dorothy had been educated in Paris and traveled extensively as a youth. To "help the family finances" after her marriage, she took to "magazine journalism and writing romantic novels". Her first novel, Card Houses [Eveleigh Nash & Co.: London, 1916] was published the same year as her nuptials. Husband Arthur published With My Regiment from the Aisne to La Basée in 1915 and Hospital Days in 1916 as well, so there was now some money coming into the household, allowing Lady Dorothy to volunteer during the First World War.

In 1921, she then published another wry and well-regarded novel entitled The Laughter of Fools [Duckworth & Co.: London, 1920], which was favorably reviewed in Punch. First published in April, it was already being reprinted just one month later.

In July, 1922, newspapers across the United Kingdom and its colonies carried the following report: "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" under the headline TRACING A TRIBE: An Expedition to the Sahara.

In that same year, the journal Current History [April-September, 1922] reported: "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."

She also managed to publish another novel, The Tent of Blue, in 1922.

Depending on the source, in 1923 Mills became either the first white woman or the first Englishwoman [or both] to reach Timbuktu, having traveled to the remote outpost with only local porters and guides to assist her.

Her next novel, The Road, is published in 1923 as well.

In 1924, husband Arthur published his well-received novel, The Broadway Madonna, after releasing Ursula Vanet, Pillars of Salt, and The Primrose Path in 1921, 1922, and 1923 respectively.

And in 1924, Lady Dorothy published yet another novel, The Arms of the Sun, in 1924, but the tour de force at that point in her young career was the 1924 release of The Road to Timbuktu. It really "put her on the map," so to speak—the pun being clearly intended!

And here a copy of that very text sits, right beside me, just begging to be read!

More on this undertaking, and Arthur and Lady Dorothy Mills—and there's so much more—as events warrant…

Word from a Relative of George Mills...

A few weeks ago I was doing a routine internet search for George Mills-related web pages and stumbled on something interesting. At a genealogy site in a section entitled Ramsay Family Genealogy Forum, I found this posting:

Looking for information on the children and further generations of Sir George Dalhousie Ramsay C.B 1828-1920. He was married to Eleanor Juliat Chartris Crawford and they had issue Edith E. Ramsay and Alex O.P Ramsay. Sir George was the son of Sir Alexander Ramsay 2nd bt of Balmaine and by his second marriage to the Lady Elizabeth Maule (dau 1st Lord Panmure). I believe Edith married Barton Reginald Vaugh Miles.

I thought about it and sent the person requesting the information, David, this reply:

Edith Ramsay did marry Reverend Barton Reginald Vaughan Mills [M.A. Oxford, 1883, b. 29 October, 1857, d. 21 January, 1932], a "holy cleric and scholar". He was the son of Arthur Mills, Esq., M.P., from Taunton and Exeter, one of the leading experts on Colonial Economics and the cost of the Sepoy Mutiny, so much so that his books on the subject are still in print today. Barton was the first living son of Arthur Mills, and had a younger brother, Col. Dudley Acland Mills [Broadlands, Jersey. Retired; b. 24 August 1859]. They were also grandchildren of Sir Thomas Dyke Acland [pictured, right], Killerton House, Broadclyst, Devon.

Barton had a son, Arthur Frederick Hobart Mills, b. 12 July, 1887, with his first wife, Lady Catherine Mary Valentia Hobart-Hampden. they had been married on 10 July, 1886, when she was granted the rank of Earl's daughter. Lady Catherine died on 25 September, 1889.

Elizabeth Edith Ramsay and Barton R. V. Mills were married on 10 January, 1894, and had three children: Agnes Edith Mills, born 11, June 1895, George Ramsay Acland Mills, b. 1 October, 1896, in Bude, Cornwall, and Violet Eleanor Mills, born 17 November, 1902.

Barton was the vicar of Bude, Cornwall [I believe the vicarage is pictured, left], at the time, a position in which he remained until 1901. He then became the Assistant Chaplain of the Royal Chapel of the Savoy, where he stayed until 1908. He wrote, edited, and translated religious texts, notably involving the writings of St Bernard, and his work is still cited by theologians today.

George Mills attended Parkfield in Haywards Heath and Harrow before fighting in WW I, first as a private and finishing as a lance corporal, in the Royal Rifles and the Royal Army Service Corps. He then attended Christ Church and Oxford, but did not receive a degree. He went on to be a Junior Teacher at Windlesham School, then in Portslade, at Lent, 1925. That same year he married Vera Louise Beauclerk, a granddaughter of Sir Robert Hart and daughter of the Duke of St Albans, on 23 April, 1925, and they bought a house in Portslade.

He was off the teaching roster at Windlesham [right] by Fall, 1926, and subsequently taught at Warren Hill School in Eastbourne, The Craig in Windermere, the English Preparatory School in Glion, and Eaton Gate Preparatory School in London. Vera died on 5 January, 1942. They were childless and he apparently never remarried.

Most notably, Mills authored four very popular books, mostly about preparatory school boys: Meredith and Co. [1933], King Willow [1938], Minor and Major [1939], and St. Thomas of Canterbury [1939], all of which can be found in the British Library. The books were reprinted into the very late 1950s, but it appears Mills never published another word after his prolific 1938-1939 period.

He then disappears from sight until his death in Devon [possibly Budleigh Salterton] in 1972.

The only thing I know about his sisters, Agnes and Violet--other than that Violet Mills was a bridesmaid at his wedding, but Agnes Mills was not and attended unescorted--is that the girls donated a collection of Sir George Dalhousie Ramsay's papers to the British Library in 1947, still using their maiden names. The sisters would have been about 52 and 45 years old at the time. If they had, indeed, remained unmarried, it seems likely they were childless as well.

Almost immediately, David answered:

Edith Judith Ramsay did indeed marry Rev. Barton Mills. I was most interested to read that he was vicar of Bude, N. Cornwall. I would imagine that it was St. Michael's Church in Bude [left]. I was a choir boy there in the 60's!! I was at boarding school at St. Petroc's School in Bude, following my father's footsteps in education.

Now another interesting point here for me, was that my Great Grandfather was the Rev. George Wingate (died Dec 16, 1898) who was vicar of St. Andrew's Church, Stratton, N. Cornwall. The towns of Bude and Stratton are next to each other. Rev. George Wingate had married Elizabeth Patricia Maule. Her father was the Hon. William Ramsay Maule (1809-1859) and his father was Lord William Ramsay Maule, Lord Panmure of Brechin & Navar. His father was Lord George Ramsay 8th Earl of Dalhousie.

You mentioned Sir George Dalhousie Ramsay, he was the son of Lady Elizabeth Maule and Sir Alexander Ramsay, Bt of Balmain. Elizabeth Maule (1796-1852) was daughter of William Maule Ramsay, Lord Panmure.

Sir George Dalhousie Ramsay (1828-1920) married Eleanor Juliat Charteris Crawfurd (1827-1918) daughter of John Crawfurd, Gov. of Singapore. Their issue were: Edith Elizabeth Ramsay, Alexander Oswald Panmure Ramsay (1867-1897) and Edith Judith Ramsay and the rest you know!

Thank you so much, David, and I do look forward to hearing from you again.

One oddity in all of this would be the name of George's mother. David—a man with more than ample knowledge of his family's history—writes that "Edith Judith Ramsay", not "Edith Elizabeth Ramsay", married barton Mills. Other genealogical sites list his wife as "Elizabeth Edith Ramsay".

It's possible that, due to handwriting that was difficult to read, or merely a transcription error, Judith and Edith could have been confused in paperwork. Looking in the ancestry.com database, she is listed as "Elizabeth Edith Ramsay", but her husband in that database is listed as Barton R. V. HILLS, not Mills. In fact, David's records may have had him recorded as "Barton R. V. MILES.

It's also possible that the person attending to the certificate of her birth didn't put in a correct name. In my ex-wife's family, it was years before they discovered that what they had been calling their daughter—Alice, I believe—was not the Christian name that had been written on her birth certificate, simply because the physician hadn't really cared for the name "Alice".

Stranger things have happened. Needless to say, errors likely abound. I spent countless hours looking for "Vera Beauclerc" before I became aware that the wife of George Mills was actually named "Vera Beauclerk".

Oh what a difference a single letter can make!

One primary source that I have for the name Elizabeth Edith Ramsay is the 1901 census [pictured, left]. It's unclear if the Mills family [Barton Reginald Vaughan, Elizabeth E., Agnes Edith, and George Ramsay Acland Mills] is still in Cornwall at the time it was taken, or if they already have moved to London, where Barton apparently found employment as the Assistant Chaplain of the Royal Chapel of the Savoy sometime in 1901. London, Middlesex, will be the birthplace of George's sister, Violet Eleanor Mills, in 1902.

[UPDATE: I just checked the records, and the housemaid in that census, listed immediately above Barton R. Mills, is Kate R. Neave, age 20. That sets her birthdate around 1882. She's listed in the 1901 census as residing in London, England, on the date of the census, 31 March. It appears that the Mills family already has moved to London by the late spring, 1901.]

Thanks to Jennifer for researching the above census! And if you have any information about the Ramsay family that might help David in his own genealogical quest, please let me know and I'll have him get in touch!

Of J. Goodland, Warren Hill, and perhaps the Son of Oscar Wilde...

Today, let's take another look at that dedication to Meredith and Co. written in 1933. To recap, George Mills was employed as a junior teacher at Windlesham House School, in Brighton [but more specifically Portslade at the time] from Lent 1925 until Easter 1926. He may have been there during the summer term as well, but his name was definitely taken off the staff list by the end of that summer term.

In some order, Mills then apparently taught at The Craig in Windermere, the English Preparatory School in Glion, and Warren Hill School in Eastbourne [more specifically Meads] where the "sometime Head Master" was a "Mr. J. Goodland".

An archival Eastbourne Local History Society newsletter has noted that an early headmaster of Warren Hill was A. Max Wilkinson, who was likely there from 1895 through 1918. The newsletter noted that Wilkinson was succeeded by "M.A. North and F.R. Ebdon" and that the school was no longer listed in the local directories in 1936.

More research has come to light about Warren Hill School and the identity of "Mr. J. Goodland":

In the [London] Times of Saturday, 16 May 1925, there's a report stating that the partnership between M A North and F R Ebden (school proprietors of Warren Hill Eastbourne) had been dissolved. So Goodland must have gone into partnership with Ebden.

In the Times of Wednesday 03 Oct 1928, there a report of the death of Mr M A (Michael Arthur) North, who died at Farnham on 27 Sep at the age of 63. It states that he was headmaster of Warren Hill until 1925. One can suppose that North had been ill and therefore sold his share in the school in 1925.

In the Times of Saturday 8 August 1931, there's a report stating that the partnership between F R Ebden (note the spelling, which differs from what you have) and J Goodland was terminated on Friday August 7, 1931. Both are recorded as school proprietors.

Then, a few days later, the Times reports the registration of land (the school and its grounds) at Warren Hill, Beachy Head Road, and land (the playing field) in Carlisle Road, Eastbourne. The property was registered by Joshua Goodland. So now we know the Christian name of the headmaster. It seems that Goodland continued alone and one may assume that he had bought out his partner, F R Ebden.

The school was still in existence in Beachy Head Road in May 1934 because there's a reference to a scholarship in the Times of 29 May 1934.

The prevailing economic situation in the 1930s meant that private schools were having a hard time. Some were forced to close in Eastbourne and I guess this it could have been the reason for the demise of Warren Hill. However, the owner (headmaster) would have been sitting on some valuable real estate and would have been able to sell for a good sum.

In the Times of Saturday, 30 Oct 1948, there's a notice reporting the death of an early headmaster, Mr A Max Wilkinson, at Exmouth. It is noted that he was 'sometime of Warren Hill, Eastbourne and of Wittersham, Kent'. He was 92 years of age.

Now, let me see if I can interpret all of this at least somewhat correctly. Joshua Goodland, between May, 1925 [the dissolution of North's and Edben's partnership] and 1931 [the dissolution of Ebden's and Goodland's partnership], had acquired a shared proprietary interest in Warren Hill School. I suppose it may have been in 1925, with North selling his share directly to Goodland.

Goodland takes on sole proprietorship in August, 1931. Am I correct in assuming that, as Mills wrote his 1933 dedication, he was recalling time when Joshua Goodland shared the role of Head Master, presumably with F.R. Ebden? That would place George's employment at Warren Hill sometime between Summer, 1926 [when he is last recorded teaching at Windlesham] and August, 1931.

It could be posited that Mills had been working at Warren Hill School when the dedication was written, as Warren Hill was given 'first billing', so to speak. One could even have surmised that his employment may have extended past 1933, at least before this new information came to light. This all might narrow the window of his time spent in Meads, at least somewhat.

It now seems unlikely, given that Goodland was mentioned as "sometime Head Master"—something that might've been amended to simply "Head Master—that Mills was teaching there when and after Goodland took over by himself. If so, why not simply refer to him as "Head Master" and be done with it? Why hedge? A gap of years that could have been as wide as a decade—1926 to 1936—may perhaps now have been halved.

Of course, all the air will rush out of my balloon if we find that, Ebden alone had been Head Master until 1931, with Goodland taking over after the August dissolution of their partnership while Mills is in the school's employ. That could also explain the word "sometime", especially if Mills didn't care for Ebden, wasn't sorry to see him go, and wanted to name only Goodland for tribute.

The evidence above fuels conjecture, but still proves little. The question still remains: For how long did Mills teach and have his pint in Meads?

And Meads is significant. Not only does naming "J. Goodland" in the dedication of his first novel appear to indicate Warren Hill was a significant part of George's career, but the new French master at fictional Leadham House School, introduced in 1933's Meredith and Co., is named "Mr. Mead".

Mr. Mead's first day taking the school's French Grammar is outlined in a chapter entitled "DESCRIBES A NEW MASTER'S FIRST HOUR IN SCHOOL," and Mead is portrayed as an understanding, fair sort of fellow with a good ear, who likes boys and dogs, and takes ample care to heed the Head Master's sage advice to "start off by standing no nonsense" and "keep the class busy every moment of the time".

Is Mead's name a tribute to the locale of Warren Hill School, a place remembered fondly by Mills, and a name of the same initial he's used to cloak his own identity in the story? Perhaps only the author can be absolutely certain, and he's not telling.

Another question: Is the Joshua Goodland at Warren Hill School the same Joshua Goodland who is mentioned numerous times by Vyvyan Holland, in his 1954 memoir, Son of Oscar Wilde, the author having written that he had been "sent up to Cambridge to prepare for the examination in charge of Joshua Goodland, with whom I lived in rooms in Trinity Street" when Holland was denied entrance to Oxford due to antipathy toward his controversial father, circa 1904? It would certainly give us a better glimpse of Goodland, a man obviously admired by Mills.

As always, if you have any thoughts, ideas, information, or informed speculation, please don't hesitate to let me know!