This letter was sent by Marion Halpenny to Felicity Crocker, her granddaughter. Marion had one of her many bursts of creative energy and produced a number of letters to her granddaughters. Loosely called history, she has particular wit that jumps off the page. It is too bad she never became the published author she would have liked to have been.
July 14, 1994
Vancouver, B.C.
My dear Felicity:
As you already know, I was born into a rather large family. As I married, so did most of my brothers. Babies, well, they say cheaper by the dozen and I do believe everyone in my family believed this.
Before very long there were about 10 children- all under 10 years. As was the custom, Sunday was “visit Mother.” Everyone, and I mean everyone went. You were excused if you died between Sunday evening and the next Sunday afternoon.
My mother would buy a big roast of beef-cook if for about 4 hours until she was sure it was done. Veggies etc went with.
Since the dining room table could only seat about 10-12 people, the children of the Clan would have to sit in the kitchen to eat. Once the food was placed in front of my brothers and their wives, the children were forgotten about, to do as they will.
Potatoes were jammed up noses, peas fired from forks like catapults, meat chewed half way and spit out. Milk all over the floor. Not one parent could tell who ate what or how much. Needless to say it was liberally in hair, ears, eyebrows, on clothes and spread all around the general area of the kitchen. (Not much was actually consumed.)
The squeals coming from the kitchen were wild. I, of course, did not go into the kitchen at that point. I knew my wonderful children would never indulge in such wasteful behaviour and had just ignored the melée and eaten all of their food gracefully. I should tell you, none of the children were hungry. My Mother supplied candies from the moment they arrived until they went home. There was usually a liberal smattering of half eaten candies around the house. Stuck to everyone and everywhere.
My Mother and Father were saints just to put up with everyone every week. One aspect of the Sunday visits your mum Heather could probably enlarge on pertained to “Lassie Come Home” and football games. I can still hear my Mom saying, “the Lassie is watching “Lassie Come Home.” She always had a small smile on her face as she walked back out of the living room. (My brothers were furious.
Another aspect of Sundays at my parents’ house were the night terrors at least one of my children had every Sunday night. I guess I never did appreciate Sunday at my parent’s home. But, being a dutiful daughter, I went every week for many years. Then, too, I was the only one able to make gravy from the roast. Ha.
Your Grandma
Friday, May 7, 2010
Montgomerie Family Names
May 19, 1994
Marion Halpenny
Vancouver, B.C.
Hi Joss:
I guess when you wind me up there is no end to what can happen. If I don’t tell you some of the lore concerning this side of your roots, they will die with me and I feel that would be something of a shame.
My Grandmother, (my father’s mother – your great, great grandmother) was a rare character. I won’t go into her today. It’s about her family. Their family names include Houston, Pearson, Eglington for a few. Houston Texas was named after a Scot called Sam Houston. (yes we are related).
Many Americans tout him as a hero but he was sent to the ‘Colonies’ because he was a no goodnick- bad guy. That’s where all family black sheep were sent to prevent further embarrassment to the stoic Scots.
My grandmother’s maiden name was Houston. Her mother’s maiden name was Pearson. Thus I am, and get this for a girl, Marion Pearson Montgomerie. Nearly everyone in my family has or had a last name for a middle name, as was the custom. Peter Cairns, James Stevenson, Frank MacIntosh (my twin), me, Hugh Houston. After these, my parents veered from family, hence, Cairns Wellwood (delivery doctor) Steven Marino (Father’s best friend) and John who should have been Gilchrist. But because my father had no use for his only sister’s husband, refused to put Gilchrist on the birth certificate – so John is just John.
Bein a Scots family, it is rife with quarrels and grievances that never seem to be resolved. The people involved just die off. Instant resolution.
Back to my Grandmother’s family. We called her Gran, as did anyone who came into our house. Her father was a traveling Presbyterian Minister who traveled all over Scotland to bring the ‘true word.’
Her mother’s family were some kind of lesser gentry. My Gran became a Midwife/Nurse. She used to take assignments all over Britain. Her job was to take care of the new baby. So, she would have sic weeks before delivery and six weeks after delivery and all she did was tend to the child. No laundry, no cooking or cleaning, just the ‘wain.’ She was a graduate of the Glasgow School of Nursing – a very prestigious place indeed.
Among her family names, Eglinton places quite prominently. There is a street in Toronto called Eglinton. This is named after Lord Eglinton, who was related my Gran’s mother. I know these are a long way back and not relevant to anyone today, but as I said before, these small things will die with me…sooooo, Ramble on Grandma.
Marion Halpenny
Vancouver, B.C.
Hi Joss:
I guess when you wind me up there is no end to what can happen. If I don’t tell you some of the lore concerning this side of your roots, they will die with me and I feel that would be something of a shame.
My Grandmother, (my father’s mother – your great, great grandmother) was a rare character. I won’t go into her today. It’s about her family. Their family names include Houston, Pearson, Eglington for a few. Houston Texas was named after a Scot called Sam Houston. (yes we are related).
Many Americans tout him as a hero but he was sent to the ‘Colonies’ because he was a no goodnick- bad guy. That’s where all family black sheep were sent to prevent further embarrassment to the stoic Scots.
My grandmother’s maiden name was Houston. Her mother’s maiden name was Pearson. Thus I am, and get this for a girl, Marion Pearson Montgomerie. Nearly everyone in my family has or had a last name for a middle name, as was the custom. Peter Cairns, James Stevenson, Frank MacIntosh (my twin), me, Hugh Houston. After these, my parents veered from family, hence, Cairns Wellwood (delivery doctor) Steven Marino (Father’s best friend) and John who should have been Gilchrist. But because my father had no use for his only sister’s husband, refused to put Gilchrist on the birth certificate – so John is just John.
Bein a Scots family, it is rife with quarrels and grievances that never seem to be resolved. The people involved just die off. Instant resolution.
Back to my Grandmother’s family. We called her Gran, as did anyone who came into our house. Her father was a traveling Presbyterian Minister who traveled all over Scotland to bring the ‘true word.’
Her mother’s family were some kind of lesser gentry. My Gran became a Midwife/Nurse. She used to take assignments all over Britain. Her job was to take care of the new baby. So, she would have sic weeks before delivery and six weeks after delivery and all she did was tend to the child. No laundry, no cooking or cleaning, just the ‘wain.’ She was a graduate of the Glasgow School of Nursing – a very prestigious place indeed.
Among her family names, Eglinton places quite prominently. There is a street in Toronto called Eglinton. This is named after Lord Eglinton, who was related my Gran’s mother. I know these are a long way back and not relevant to anyone today, but as I said before, these small things will die with me…sooooo, Ramble on Grandma.
Montgomerie Motto "Garde Bien"
May 12, 1994
Marion Halpenny
Vancouver, B.C.
Hi Joss:
You probably do not recognize the script but it comes from the hand of your maternal Grandmother.
I owe you more than an apology for my neglect of your special days, Xmas, holidays, Ides of March, St. Andrew’s Day, Robert Burns Birthday, I could go on for a whole letter enumerating my misses. So let me give you one sincere, “I’m really sorry Jocelyn” in the hope your heart is a forgiving one and you give me a chance to redeem myself in some way.
I am not sure of how much family history you know. I do know your Mother loved my parents very much. My Mother when your Mother was just a young girl and my Father when she was young woman.
I am going even further back than your great grandparents. This is a true story of the Montgomeries got their coat of arm. “Garde Bien” That is the motto – Here goes:
During the fifteenth century there was much unrest in France. Many noble families were crossing the English Channel to flee the guillotine and to start new lives. The norm was for the husband to travel first, set things up and then send for his family once this was done.
Our long time ago ancestors were among the new wave of immigrants to cross the Channel. His choice was Scotland. Once he had established himself, he sent for his wife. Woman did not travel alone. And so it was that Lady Montgomerie journeyed to the coast of France with her long–time maid in attendance. They boarded the boat when the tide was going out to make an over-night crossing.
Lady Montgomerie was carrying the family fortune in her possession. This fact was supposed to be a well kept secret. Not!
Once the maid has settled her mistress in her cabin she set about to investigate the ship. (as well as the crew for she was known to be daft about sailors.) She came upon the Boson (second in command) and quickly made his acquaintance.
As is so often happens, the Boson became chatty with the maid.(called pillow talk sometimes.) He told her of the Captain’s plot to murder her mistress, dump her body over the side of the ship and steal the jewels.
The maid, being an honorable person when it came to her mistress, immediately returned to their cabin and told her the whole ugly plot.
Now the mistress was not faint of heart to be sure. She got ready and waited for the Captain to come to her cabin. When he stuck his head through the doorway, she lopped it off.
When the ship arrived in the Scottish habour next morning, there stood Lady Montgomerie on the bow, holding a sword in one hand and the captain’s head in the other – both head high for all to see.
The Montgomerie Coat of Arms shows a woman on a ship holding up a sword in one and an anchor in the other- Motto – Garde Bien. Somewhere the head of the captain was changed to anchor. I guess it seemed more genteel.
My Grandfather Montgomerie told me that year. I have never doubted it as the gospel truth~ would you?
More later on the Montgomerie Saga.
Perhaps you are too old to appreciate the fact that I work in the bakery. Oh, wonderful smells of cinnamon, chocolate. The cockroaches do take away some of the glitter but when I was a youngster, I would have though I had died and gone to heaven if my grandmother had worked in a bakery. Mine worked at Canada Packers. She brought home meat, uncooked meat. Hard for a young person to become excited about raw meat unless you are a young shark.
Your loving grandma
Marion Halpenny
Vancouver, B.C.
Hi Joss:
You probably do not recognize the script but it comes from the hand of your maternal Grandmother.
I owe you more than an apology for my neglect of your special days, Xmas, holidays, Ides of March, St. Andrew’s Day, Robert Burns Birthday, I could go on for a whole letter enumerating my misses. So let me give you one sincere, “I’m really sorry Jocelyn” in the hope your heart is a forgiving one and you give me a chance to redeem myself in some way.
I am not sure of how much family history you know. I do know your Mother loved my parents very much. My Mother when your Mother was just a young girl and my Father when she was young woman.
I am going even further back than your great grandparents. This is a true story of the Montgomeries got their coat of arm. “Garde Bien” That is the motto – Here goes:
During the fifteenth century there was much unrest in France. Many noble families were crossing the English Channel to flee the guillotine and to start new lives. The norm was for the husband to travel first, set things up and then send for his family once this was done.
Our long time ago ancestors were among the new wave of immigrants to cross the Channel. His choice was Scotland. Once he had established himself, he sent for his wife. Woman did not travel alone. And so it was that Lady Montgomerie journeyed to the coast of France with her long–time maid in attendance. They boarded the boat when the tide was going out to make an over-night crossing.
Lady Montgomerie was carrying the family fortune in her possession. This fact was supposed to be a well kept secret. Not!
Once the maid has settled her mistress in her cabin she set about to investigate the ship. (as well as the crew for she was known to be daft about sailors.) She came upon the Boson (second in command) and quickly made his acquaintance.
As is so often happens, the Boson became chatty with the maid.(called pillow talk sometimes.) He told her of the Captain’s plot to murder her mistress, dump her body over the side of the ship and steal the jewels.
The maid, being an honorable person when it came to her mistress, immediately returned to their cabin and told her the whole ugly plot.
Now the mistress was not faint of heart to be sure. She got ready and waited for the Captain to come to her cabin. When he stuck his head through the doorway, she lopped it off.
When the ship arrived in the Scottish habour next morning, there stood Lady Montgomerie on the bow, holding a sword in one hand and the captain’s head in the other – both head high for all to see.
The Montgomerie Coat of Arms shows a woman on a ship holding up a sword in one and an anchor in the other- Motto – Garde Bien. Somewhere the head of the captain was changed to anchor. I guess it seemed more genteel.
My Grandfather Montgomerie told me that year. I have never doubted it as the gospel truth~ would you?
More later on the Montgomerie Saga.
Perhaps you are too old to appreciate the fact that I work in the bakery. Oh, wonderful smells of cinnamon, chocolate. The cockroaches do take away some of the glitter but when I was a youngster, I would have though I had died and gone to heaven if my grandmother had worked in a bakery. Mine worked at Canada Packers. She brought home meat, uncooked meat. Hard for a young person to become excited about raw meat unless you are a young shark.
Your loving grandma
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