The Limey’S Daughter

By Lois M. Lynds-borton

This story will take you on a familys journey, beginning near the end of the potato famine in Ireland, and their subsequent passage over the sea to the port in Blackpool, England.
We will follow their adventures, as the next generation begins to thrive there. In the coming years, we observe as one young couple takes a giant leap across the ocean to join mid-point of the Industrial Revolution in America.
Many of you are aware of the brave sacrifices your own grandparents, or great grandparents made in that same period in history never to see many members of their own families again.
You will learn more about each member of these families, as their personalities emerge, throughout their various experiences, as the story unfolds.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jan 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781466907164

Lois M. Lynds-borton

Born and raised in a small town in Massachusetts, the author married at a young age, and raised a family there, together with her husband. Following his death, twenty years later, she returned to college to complete the requirements for an associate Degree in Liberal Arts. Interested in writing since her teen years, she eventually wrote a social column in a local newspaper. Her first book, “Waterville” was published in 2007. Now, she is offering a second novel, “The Limey’s Daughter”, which is quite different from her first work. She hopes you will enjoy reading it, as much or more than the first. Recently married, you will note her name change on the front cover of this book.

Book preview

Contents

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

DEDICATION

I would like to dedicate this novel to my father,

John Joseph Blanchflower.

Born June 22, 1900, died October 27, 1987.

in Massachusetts.

He taught me everything he knew about life.

and was always there for me.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

John S. Gibb, a professional artist who resides in Cumbria, England, created the drawing of Victoria Station which I used for the cover of this book. He was kind enough to allow me to use a reproduction of it, in exchange for mentioning his name herein.

John spent about two years—well over 2,000 hours—on the original pencil drawing. He uses a wide range of reference materials to ensure authenticity. He does not copy photographs and uses a drafting pencil with a hard lead. Apart from the pencil, his only tools are a ruler, an eraser and a small magnifier.

A framed reproduction of this picture, which I purchased from him, hangs on my dining room wall. It is a reminder of the history of my own great-grandparents and grandparents who lived in that area of Europe, and who were brave enough, in those troubled times, to make the great escape to settle in The New World—America.

I would also like to thank my husband, Ross A. Borton, for all his patience and understanding, as well as assisting me with the editing process of this book. As a former graduate of Western Michigan University, graduating with his degree in Engineering, he is accustomed to writing and editing his own works.

CHAPTER ONE

It was late summer in Wexford, Ireland. The hills and valleys were a rich green, with small rivulets running nearby, close to their carefully manicured garden patches. But, that year disease had invaded those gardens, and the potatoes, which were the basis of their daily diet, had been viciously attacked by an unseen, unknown virulent enemy. How could you let this happen, God? John O’Connor asked, waving his arms about and searching the clouded sky with his bright blue eyes. It’s not like we don’t pray enough, he continued, Lord knows, me Annie would be draggin’ me to Sunday Mass even if I had two broken legs.

It was becoming more and more difficult for the family to survive, even when using the barter system within their village. A dozen eggs could be exchanged for five pounds of flour, but finding enough grain to feed the chickens was something else again.

Eee now, Anne cautioned her youngest son, John Jr., don’t eat so fast, you won’t even know you’ve eaten! She was pregnant with little Edward at the time, and she didn’t eat enough to keep a bird alive, never mind keeping up with the old wives’ tale, ‘you ‘ave to eat for two now.’

They probably should not be having another baby. However, being a good Catholic woman, and having such a virile young husband to satisfy, not to mention being madly in love with him, she did not even think twice about it.

After Edward was born, Anne nursed him, of course, as she did her other babies. This time, however, she didn’t have enough milk, probably because she wasn’t eating right herself. The baby was not doing well.

It was then, that John and she made the decision to sell all of their belongings, leaving their farmhouse and a few half-starved animals to his brother and his family.

They would go to England, paying a boatman to take them all. They stopped by the Isle of Man, where the captain added more coal, and then chugged on to Blackpool, in England. This is where they disembarked.

Now on solid ground once more, they were met by two of John’s cousins who took them to their home to spend a fortnight, while John looked for work, as well as a place for himself and his family to live.

On the second day he found a job as an apprentice Mule Spinner—this in itself was a miracle. He was hired because they had been told he was clever with his hands, and was able to fix almost anything, or invent a way to do something better.

The house they moved into was in Morecambe, England. Two years later, in 1865, Sarah Anne O’Connor was born. By then, Edward was a happy healthy boy, and John Jr. age nine, was helping his uncle Charles with the horses and sheep on his farm, by cleaning out the stalls, watering, and feeding the animals for a few pence.

The house John and Anne lived in was quite large, having once been owned by a wealthy mill operator. He had died, and his widow was not able to take care of the place, so she decided to sell it. In those days, property could be had for a small amount down, and paid for in monthly payments over a period of time. This they did.

Anne, who had a good head on her shoulders, suggested they rent out two of the upstairs bedrooms to any young people like themselves who had just come over to England to seek a better way of life. One young man was the son of a former neighbor, who had lived just a few miles away from them, in Wexford. The other young man was from Northern Ireland. He had left his home and parents with the idea of settling in a new country, marrying, and raising his family where there would be more opportunities for his own children when they were of age to go to work.

John was pleased with his wife’s ingenuity, as far as taking in a couple of boarders was concerned. The extra money coming in would enable them to buy some much needed furniture for their house, as well as several bags of seed to plant vegetables and potatoes which, when harvested, would give them plenty of food for the winter and spring until it was time to plant again. John soon found it would be necessary to purchase a horse and wagon that he could adapt for plowing and planting.

By promising to provide the owner of the horse and wagon with enough potatoes and vegetables for his own household, John was able to make a good deal with him to make monthly payments, with no money down. They then were able to enjoy the privilege of using his new horse and buggy for transportation so John, his wife, and family could go to church on Sunday and to an occasional concert on the green.

Anne was a good cook, so her boarders truly enjoyed her meals—morning and evening. She also sent them off to work each day with a lunch pail full of enough food to last them throughout the day. It was not long before other workers, noting their own lunches were of much lesser quality than those of the two boarders, inquired if they, too, could purchase lunches from Mrs. O’Connor. When approached on the possibility, she thought it would be a good way to bring even more money into the household.

It was not long before Anne had a regular clientele, and, while she was at it, she thought she might as well open a bakery. After all, not every young bride knew how to make a good loaf of bread. Sarah, who was eight years old by this time, helped her mother in the bakery by making thick mutton or fowl sandwiches for the young mill hands to take to work with them each morning. Anne soon found she had to hire a house girl to do the chores around the house, while she herself was busy in the bakery.

John Jr. was now ten years old and had a steady job with his uncle Charles who needed help from him in the breeding and training of his jumping horses, as well as shearing the sheep in the spring and summer months. It was a full-time job, so he rarely came home, but remained, instead, at the home of his uncle.

John Sr. had attained the elevation of supervisor at the woolen mill where he still worked. He was a small but wiry man, strongly built, and he liked to drink. At times, after a few, he became rather belligerent, and was known to strike his wife, Anne, for little or no reason. His son, John Jr. did not appreciate this, but held his tongue, most of the time. On occasion, though, he would yell at his father telling him not to hit his mother like that again. This would get the old man down on him, and he would take a few swings at his son, as well. The boy, however, managed to dodge the blows. By then, John Sr. was ready to sleep it off, so, mother and son would then half carry, half drag him off to bed for the night. The following morning, he could never remember a thing.

His son, however, never forgot, and was always afraid he himself would turn out just like his old man. He did not, of course, for he had too much of his mother in him.

When Sarah was nineteen years old, she met a young man by the name of William Blanchflower, who was two years older then she. He worked at the same woolen mill as her father, and she would sometimes see him when she carried her father’s lunch pail to him at noontime. He reminded her of her own father, except he was more even-tempered and very polite. He had the same bright blue eyes as her father, but they were softer, whenever she caught him looking at her. Her own eyes were blue, and they had an impish look to them. The way she cocked her head as she gazed back at him set his heart on fire. It got so he would keep an eye on the clock, and when it was about time for her to arrive at the mill, he would hurry to be near the door, to get a glimpse of her.

The next two years passed without incident, and when Sarah turned twenty-one, Bill, as she now called him, invited her to go to the mill outing with him. Her own family members were going also, so they agreed to allow Bill to come along with them. That way, they could keep a closer eye on their daughter and her suitor. The summer outing was always a big deal for everyone who worked at the mill, and every family came out in full force. The owners of the mill provided all the food and beverages, including beer for the grownups, and hand churned ice cream for the children.

They played softball, and croquet; there were pony rides for the youngsters, as well. The outing took place right next to a large lake, so there was always a cool breeze blowing across it to keep the picnickers comfortable. There were a few rowboats tied up at the small dock for the men to take their families on a short ride on the lake, and two canoes, which were solely for young couples to use. It was a very romantic way for a young man to propose to his girlfriend. In fact, this was how it came about that Bill asked Sarah to marry him.

Sarah was ready. She wanted to marry and have a family of her own, and Bill was the man of her dreams. The next hurdle was for him to ask her father for her hand in marriage. That evening, before she went to bed, Sarah told her mother about Bill’s proposal. Anne was happy for Sarah, but, at the same time, she dreaded the time her daughter would leave home. A plan was made for her young man to come to the O’Connor home on Sunday afternoon next, to speak with her father about his wish to marry Sarah.

John listened to everything his daughter’s suitor had to say for himself, including his dream to go to America, to make his mark in the new world. When he was finished, John lit up his pipe, and puffed on it for a while, as young William bided his time, wondering just what his future father-in-law was going to say.

How do you propose to do all this? John O’Connor asked him.

I plan to buy myself a ticket on the next boat going to America, sir, and get myself a job in one of the woolen mills over there. Then, I’ll save up enough money to send for Sarah, and bring her over to join me.

What if you meet someone else over there? What will Sarah do, then?

We want to get married before I leave, then we will both feel better about the other one remaining faithful. Bill said, earnestly.

How old are you, William?

I’ll be twenty four on my next birthday, sir, he answered.

Sarah just turned twenty-one. I guess that’s old enough to marry, John remarked, with a grin.

Yes, sir, and I think she’s a fine woman, said Bill, smiling a bit.

Well then, I think it might work out for everyone concerned, especially for my Annie, because, you know, the two of them are very close, and it will take time for them to get used to the idea of living so far apart.

Well, it doesn’t have to be that way, you know. Bill stated.

What do you mean? John asked him.

You and your wife and the children could come to America with us. That way, we could all be together.

Well now, that’s something to be thinkin’ about! John remarked.

Once they had the blessings of Sarah’s father, William and she made plans to marry at Ashton under Lyne, in Lancashire County. The wedding took place on January 29th, 1887. The reception, held at the home of the bride’s parents, was to be strictly a family affair, but to many of the folks who attended—some of them uninvited—for they all considered themselves family.

Since the young couple would not be setting up an apartment right away, they received a few coins from most of the guests, but many of their gifts were also handmade items, such as crocheted doilies, embroidered pillowcases, a tablecloth with matching napkins, and a teapot.

One family gave them a set of spoons made of silver, which had been melted down from an antique tray that had been passed down through several generations, in their own family.

There was plenty of food for everyone. Sarah and her mother worked together to make sure of that. They even had the help of several of the women from the neighboring farms working on the project along with them. Anne outdid herself on Sarah and Bill’s wedding cake. It was three tiers high, all vanilla cream, with a mountain of frosting all over it, and two doves, which were a special order from a bakery in London, perched on top.

Although the ceremony was a solemn one, the reception certainly was not. A few of the farmers’ sons, having learned from their own fathers and grandfathers, the way to make a fiddle sing, played on throughout the afternoon and far into the evening.

Homemade brew and old French wine, made from potatoes, flowed freely, both before and after dinner, which gave the young men and women enough spunk to sing and dance their hearts out.

When the moon reached the top of the sky, as big and bright as it could ever be, the newly-weds wished for their own time to be alone together for the first time in their married lives. When it seemed as if that time would never come, Sarah’s father himself took the hands of the two newly-weds in his own, and led them to the bridal chamber.

It had been Sarah’s room since she was a little girl. He and Anne had decorated it themselves and transformed it into a kind of fantasy room. A quilt her mother had made and given her as a wedding present covered their marriage bed. They had sprinkled it with dried flowers from their summer garden. John O’Connor asked them to wait one moment while he went inside and lit four candles, then, he shook the right hand of his new son-in-law, and kissed his daughter’s forehead, as he left them to themselves.

William and Sarah had waited so long for their wedding night to arrive that shyness was not a consideration for them. There were no formalities as they stood in the candlelight facing one another and began to remove each article of their clothing.

Sarah shivered a bit, in anticipation of what was to come. William, worried somewhat that he might not be able to fulfill his new wife’s desires. He need not have, for the two of them were so much alike in both their libidos and personalities.

He walked toward her, kicking aside the clothing, which had fallen upon the floor, and took her fully into his arms. Their bodies’ blended together, warm and inviting, for the very first time. William took her face in both his hands, and kissed her tenderly on her lips. Sarah responded by kissing him in return, boldly as never before, because now they were married; she felt it was all right for her to do this. They explored each other’s bodies. Then William suddenly scooped his bride up in his strong arms and placed her upon the bed. Flowers and pillows, as well as the new quilt, were swept onto the floor as the two lovers finally began in earnest to consummate their marriage vows.

When morning arrived, they were sure they were the only couple in the world, who had ever experienced love as they had. Surely, they thought, no other couple ever loved each other as much as they did.

On that morning, they were allowed to remain in bed almost as long as they wished, however, it was Sunday, and eventually, they had to get up and get dressed for church. Sarah’s mother had made them a fresh pot of tea and some biscuits, which they ate ravenously. Then, the two families boarded the horse-drawn wagon, to go to Mass together.

William was set to leave aboard ship for the New World in a fortnight. Sarah wondered how she would ever live without him. They talked long into the night, every night. She did not make it easy for him, but he told her, this separation was absolutely necessary for them to have a successful future. On the day of his sailing, they awoke early and made love, tenderly, one last time.

John and Anne helped load William’s small trunk onto their wagon. It contained warm clothing, a Bible, and a clay teapot along with some good strong English tea. That morning, he dressed in a pair of woolen tweed knickers, with a cap to match, a heavy jacket and a