WicklowGrown

Charles & Lydia Tribe

2010-05-28T10:16:00.000-07:00

2010-05-28T09:30:00.000-07:00

THE TRIBE BOOK FIRST GENERATION From Arthur Tribe's Book on Tribe
William Tribe (Primus), the Founder of the Race Born 1760 to 1770-- Died 1813 to 1820
In writing this History of our family I am unable to go farther back in the dim and distant past than the time of my great-grandfather, the head and founder of our race, and of him I am able to give very few particulars. Unfortunately the little I know of him is hardly to his credit, and, indeed in the bulk greatly the reverse; however, I give it frankly, for if this history is to be truthful and in any way reliable, the dark side must be recorded faithfully as the bright and honourable. I intimated in my preface that our family had never turned out a rogue, and, should the reader incline, after reading this page, to the opinion that our ancestor was certainly near akin a rogue, if not actually one, let me hasten to say that my meaning was that no member of our family, since I can remember, no member that I have known, has led any but the most straightforward of lives. In a few words, then, our paternal ancestor was a smuggler! It is not a fact to be proud of; yet time has robbed it of the sharpness of its sting, and a recollection which might well be regarded with shame and a certain amount of ignominy, if it related to our parent, or even to our grandparent, loses its power of reproach and ability to humiliate when it concerns one so far removed as a parent's grandparent, and a period of over a hundred years ago; or, at least eighty, since he died. The shame dies, and in its place is left only a kind of romantic interest which attaches to the 'glamour of the past' as when one reads the tales of the old smuggling days, and (unmindful of the fact that the smugglers' life was one continual career of crime, and the smuggler probably worth not one single grain of pity or consideration) thinks kindly of them as [relics]of the past, and with fancy's ardour paints them in all kinds of manly attitudes, and invests them with corresponding attributes and virtues. So, in our own particular case we, his descendants, forget all else, and can even afford to indulge in a certain amount of family pride when we recall the story of our ancestor's hardihood, doggedness and indomitable spirit; his pluck, and determination to fight to the death. One story is told of him for which I cannot vouch, though it is probably true; it was related by my uncle William to my brother George, who in his turn passed it on to me. The scene of the story is Beachy Head, Eastbourne, Sussex, and Beachy Head, as everyone knows, was in those days infested with smugglers; and this fact lends possibility to the story. The story runs that William Tribe and his partner - for he worked in partners with another man - were one night in winter riding together on the Down in the neighbourhood of the famous Beachy Head, each mounted on one [of] the pair of horses which drew their van with which they were wont to do their 'business', and perhaps were even then in the act of riding them out to hitch them on the van. A snowstorm was raging at the time, with a fury which one who has battled with the elements in that bleak neighbourhood, - as has the writer- can appreciate.* Blinded by the fury of the storm, and baulked by the intense darkness, they rode nearer the famous Head than they intended, and before they realized their danger were upon the extreme edge of the cliff. Escape was impossible! *I find since writing the above that it is improbable that a van was employed by the adventurers, owing to the need for great mobility. Pack-saddles were probably used. AWT Down they went over that awful height, down that sheer drop of [blank] feet to the beach below; down to what they must have realized as utter destruction. Almost, it would seem, by a miracle, our ancestor escaped with his life; his horse was killed. His companion was less fortunate and lost his life, though his horse survived; William Tribe therefore rode out on his companion's horse; the state of the tide at the time is not recorded. History neglects to say whether our ancestor brought his late comrade's body out with him, or whether he informed the Eastbourne Coastguard of the accident and sent them to the rescue of his unfortunate partner-in-crime. As, however, his intent and inclination up to that time had been to avoid the 'men in blue' as much as possible, the latter supposition is not at all probable. Another story I must give, and this one bears a greater foundation of fact than the other, and comes from a member of the family alive at the present time. It is interesting as showing the tenacity and bulldog courage of our doughty ancestor. This story is undoubtedly true as the authority is unimpeachable. William Tribe was one day cornered by the coastguard and 'held up' by one of them whilst in the pursuit of his calling and accompanied by his horse. He was unable to escape, and, reconciling himself to the loss of his stock-in-trade, he determined to defend his own precious person and life to the last. He fought the exciseman for two hours, with a club against his sturdy opponent's trusty sword, and, after a fierce struggle, was at last successful, though he came out of the encounter with a broken skull. This, however, was but a detail in those stirring times. The date and place of the struggle are unknown, but the scene was probably the neighbourhood of Beachy Head, Crow Link and Birline Gap, three places on the coast surrounding the Downs, close together, and formerly well known as smuggling resorts. After this affray, our ancestor had his skull mended with silver filling, and eventually settled in Kent, in the neighbourhood of Tenterden, where he married. I am unable to learn whether he from this time discontinued his smuggling exploits, or whether the ride over Beachy Head occurred before or after his marriage, but at all events I have it on good authority that he was by no means a good provider for his large family. His son John declared that he never had a meal at home after he was seven years of age, but was obliged to go out to work, and I suppose, to live away from home. I can only estimate the date of our ancestor's birth and death from the very scant data I have at command, but, from the very scant data I have at command, but, from the details I have been able to gather, I am inclined to place the time of his birth from 1760 to 1770, and his death about 1813 to 1820. I must state, however, that the figures as to his death are but little better than guesswork. Of his wife [Eleanor Hosmer] I know nothing; good, bad or indifferent; and this is all I am able to place on record of our great-grandfather, which, if it is not greatly to his credit, at least has the merit of being candid and frank. As to his family, it appears to have been a large one. As, however, nothing is known of any but two of them, and indeed, their very names are forgotten, I must content myself with tracing the careers of those two alone. William, the eldest son, was born in August 1802, and will appear on the next page. John, who may have been the second son, was born in 1806, and founded the American House, and will be done justice to in due course. There was also a Charles, and I believe, several other sons and daughters, but as nothing is known of any of them, I have to other course than to pass on in my record to the career of William Tribe (Secondus).

William Tribe (Secondus) Born 1802 Died 1886 and the firm of 'Tribe and Company'

William Tribe (Secondus), the eldest son of William the Founder, was born in August (I believe on the 19th of the month) of the year 1802, in or near the borough of Tenterden, in Kent. He was a tall, robust man, of magnificent build and enormous strength, nearly approaching six feet in height, and broad in proportion, and at eighty years of age would have proved the equal of many men in their prime. He married Mary Crittenden and had several children. He lived during the great part of his life in or around Tenterden, and was at one time a tollgate keeper, at another a dogwood [scraper] and dogwood merchant, and he also at one time kept a stud of carthorse stallions, among which was the famous Black Prince, in his time the champion horse of Kent. Later on he crossed the Sussex border and settled at Burwash, near Heathfield, Sussex, where he hired Waterloo Farm, Burwash. This he farmed successfully for a number of years, when he again set his face and feet Kent-wards, and hired Cold Bath Farm, Tunbridge Wells, on the edge of the border, but on the Kentish side. Here he laid the foundations of the business which eventually became one of the largest and most successful dairying concerns in the borough of Tunbridge Wells, doing business in Hungershall and Neville Parks, Broadwater Down, and many other of the principle parts of the borough. Here it was, too, that he died, after many years of sucessful business. In character William Tribe was, on the whole, a genial, easy-going man, with a strong vein of wit and humour, and a jovial temper in public life, and this, combined with the reputation he enjoyed as a shrewd, far-sighted, thorough-going business man, and a sound-principled, honest, straightforward man to boot, rendered him a favourite with all his neighbour farmers, and indeed with all who had any dealing or other business with him. This is one side of his character. There is another and, unfortunately, worse one. In his treatment of his family, and as a father and a husband, he was not always a model of what a parent should be. His treatment of his family was often harsh and unfeeling in the extreme, and often led to bitter quarrelling with his wife and children. He appears to have had a rooted objection to his children marrying, and many were the quarrels in consequence. At least two of his sons left home at different times on account of this fact, and general harshness; yet at times he showed obvious tokens of remorse after his worst outbreaks of passion, and charity would fain concede that his harshness may have been to some extent unintentional, and somewhat in keeping with the ruggedness of his character and build, and with the spirit of the times in which he lived. As regards religion, he was of the Baptist persuasion, and his children were strictly brought up to that faith. At Tenterden he probably attended the Zion Baptist Chapel; at Heathfield the family worshipped at Ebenezar Chapel; and at Tunbridge Wells, Rehobath Chapel was the scene of their devotions. He was a rugged old nonconformist of the old fashioned type. Although not an abstainer with regard to alcoholic beverages and spirits, he was a very moderate drinker, and here I may state that I have never known of a habitual drunkard, or any given to excess in drinking, to exist in the family. Mary, the wife of William Tribe, died at Cold Bath Farm on March lst 1881, at the age of 74, and was buried at Ebenezar Chapel, Heathfield. William Tribe died on March the fifth (5th) 1886, at Cold Bath Farm, at the age of 84, and was buried beside his wife at Ebenezar Chapel, Heathfield, Sussex. His death was due to pneumonia, with complications. He had eight children; four sons, William, Peter, Charles and John; and four daughters, Mary, Elizabeth, Jane and Harriet. (There were three others, who died in childhood.) After his death the business was carried on by his eldest and third sons, William and Charles, and his daughter Elizabeth, who managed it jointly for over four years, when the death of Elizabeth left the two brothers in possession. William, however, wishing to retire from the business, a sale was held of the stock, farming implements, etc., at which sale almost everything was sold, Charles buying in such horses, cows, stock and implements, etc. as he required and afterward carrying on the business under the title of "Charles Tribe, Cowkeeper and Dairyman." Before entering into undivided possession of the business, Charles had lived with his family at Rusthall, a village about a mile from the farm, walking the distance to and from the farm mornings and nights; but when at length he became sole proprietor he removed his wife and family into the farmhouse. During their residence in Rusthall his wife and elder children had worked up a small milk business, independant of the farm, buying their milk wholesale from Tribe and Company, but under the new order of things this was, of course, thrown into the parent business, and a year or two after, on the marriage of- his eldest son, a small shop was opened at Rusthall, and Charles installed therein his eldest son, Charles, and his wife, as managers of the Rusthall milkround and business. William Tribe's Children William Tribe (tertius) was the eldest son of William (2) and was born at Tenterden in March, about the year 1832 or 1833. Although not of such great proportions as his father, he was yet a big man, being tall and thick-set. He had not, however, by any means his father's business qualities, and in fact, was always inclined to be somewhat of a scapegrace and ne'er-do-well. He was subjected to a good deal of ridicule from his brother and sister, and the higher placed men about Cold Bath Farm, and was often severely lectured by his father for his ease-loving, apathetic temperament, his eccentric ways, and his lack of the elements of businesslike qualities. He was by no means suited for his position of senior partner in a thriving business, he never did a wiser act than that of giving up that position. On severing his connection with the firm, he tried one means after another of gaining a livelihood, generally with but indifferent success, so that he very quickly disposed of the money he realized as his share of the farm, and was driven to great extremes to procure enough to supply himself. (His children, happily, had long been grown up, and providing for themselves and his wife was living apart from him.) This went on for a few years, until at length he was reduced to brier selling, and even to pedlaring oranges for a living. His brother Charles assisted him at various times, as he was able, but affairs at the farm had fallen to a low ebb, as shall afterwards be recorded. At last the tide turned for William, and he obtained a good position as night-watchman for a large business firm, which he kept for years, and where he was still engaged when last heard. He married at about the age of thirty-five, and has two sons, John and Ernest, and a daughter, Dora. His married life was by no means a success, and he has for years lived apart from his wife; his whereabouts is not known to the writer, nor are his own sons and daughter, according to their own accounts, aware of his present address. If still living, his age would be about seventy-three at the present time. There is an old joke of long standing in the family that he once went out in a field, rabbit shooting, and, seeing what he thought to be a rabbit near a tree, shot at it, the supposed rabbit still remaining in exactly the same position as before, he went forward to solve the mystery. At his first step the 'rabbit' started, and proved to be his own shadow, thrown on a bush. The story in some way leaked out, and for a long while after his approach was greeted with the words, "Who shot his shadow?" Another tale is told of his favourite cat. For some reason this animal was condemned and was thrown into a pond in one of the fields with a rope around its neck, to which was attached a large brick. The pond was wide and deep, but the cat by some means managed to slip the string from its neck, and swam the width of the pond [missing word(s)] the bank, turning up later in the day, fresh and dry, and with the stains of battle and its cold bath gone from it, having wandered about until dry and comfortable when it should have been drowning. The animal was thenceforth spared, and eventually rejoiced in the name of 'Miracle'. What my father, his brother Charles, has described as the best and most sensible act of William's life was the following: When in February 1886 his father lay on what proved to be his deathbed, the old gentleman constantly expressed a longing to see the cowl on the old oasthouse, which had been for some time most persistantly pointing northeast, change its position for the south, believing that with the return of warmer and kindlier weather he might hope for another span of life, if not a complete return to health. William hearing his oft-repeated wish, and with the object of raising the man's spirits, entered the oasthouse, and with a strong [rod] secured the cowl, and fixed its obstinate finger to point in the so much desired direction, causing it to err from the truth, and, in the face of a strong nor'easter to indicate a south wind. History does not state the effect on the sick man of this perversion of the morals of the weathercock, but the latter's death shortly after seems to indicate that the ingenious trick did not meet with the success it deserved. I will give one tale more of this scapegrace of the family. One of the sons of the Marquis of Abergavenny, to whom, of course, Cold Bath Farm belonged, Lord Henry Neville, I believe, was one day riding with a party of friends through the Cold Bath fields when William Tribe, who was at work in one of the fields, not recognizing the young Lord, ordered him and his party off the premises. It was a foolish action, and might have had serious consequences. Lord Henry and his party turned back, but the next day the steward rode out to the farm and, calling on the head of the firm of Tribe and Co., demanded the reason of the insult offered to his lordship. The senior William, who well knew how to soothe the ruffled temper of the steward, enquired carefully as to the appearance of the man who had dared so insult his lordship, though he knew perfectly well who was the culprit, and at length from looking grave and stern his face lighted up with an apologetic smile as he exclaimed, "Oh, Sir, but you must not take any notice of him; he's an old fellow I keep about the place, a handy man, but he's not just right in the head." "Oh! If that's the case, no more shall be said of the matter," answered the steward, and the situation was saved; but what would have been William the younger's feeling on the matter had he known of his father's stated opinion of the quality of his brain and reasoning power [is] perhaps better imagined than described. Peter was the second son of William (Secondus) and was born at Tenterden. He emigrated to Australia, and there married a Miss Spridgen and founded the Australian House of the family. He will be more fully dealt with in the [History] of that branch. Charles (Secondus) was the third son of William (2) and was born at Tenterden on November the fifth (5th) 1838. He married on April 21st 1867 Lydia Elizabeth Moore and had ten children, viz:- three sons, Charles William, George Albert, and Arthur William, and seven daughters, Lydia Elizabeth, Grace Fannie, Mary Eliza, Katey, Dorothy May, Mabel Jane, and Gertrude Nellie. He died on March the sixth (6th) 1895, of consumption, following on influenza and left his widow and nine children. John, the fourth and youngest son of William (2) was born at Tenterden in the year 1849. Being a weakly boy, and like his brothers, rather harshly treated, he succumbed to consumption, and died on June 25th 1872, at the early age of twentythree (23). He was buried at Ebenezar Chapel, Heathfield. Mary, the eldest daughter of William (2) was born on October 13th 1834, at Tenterden. She lost her reason as the result of a love affair, and was for several years confined in the Barming Lunatic Asylum, near Maidstone, Kent, and afterwards removed with others to Chartham Asylum, near Ashford, Kent. She was once released but upon becoming worse was confined again, and after several years, during which she completely regained her reason, was finally released about 1898, and has since taken situations as housekeeper, entirely retaining possession of her reason. About three years ago, 1902, she was cook and housekeeper to Mr. Charles Peacock, of Lower Green, Rusthall, and in the year 1904, at the age of seventy, she became cook-housekeeper at a private school for young gentlemen at Upper Grosvenor Road, Tunbridge Wells. This she left a few months ago, and is now on a visit to a friend at Smarden, Kent, close to her birthplace and early home. She has a wonderfully clear and long memory, and still writes a remarkably good, clear hand for a person of her advanced age. She has never been married. Elizabeth, the second daughter of William (2) was born at Tenterden. She was never married, and after her mother's death kept house for her father and brothers at Cold Bath Farm and held a share in the company of Tribe and Co. She was born in September 1840. She died of cancer at Cold Bath Farm on November lst 1890, and was buried at Ebenezar Chapel, Heathfield on Nov. [3]. Jane, the third daughter of William (2), married a man of the name of [Bal ?I and lived at Staplehurst. She died of brain fever, was was buried at Staplehurst. Born at Tenterden. Harriet, the fourth and youngest daughter of William (2), was born at Tenterden. She married George Humphrey and has several children. They lived at one time at Denny Bottom, Rusthall, but their present whereabouts is unknown. Harriet is, or at all events was, anything but a credit to her family, and her husband, a respectable working man, is decidedly her better half. The careful and cleanly upbringing in the farmhouse were entirely lost upon her, and for years past tidyness and thrift, and even cleanliness, have been strangers to her. She is still living, and is probably now, as ever, a stain and a disgrace to a respectable family. She is the youngest of the family, and the only one of whom that family has cause to be ashamed.

December 7, 2008

2008-12-07T13:00:00.000-08:00

This was taken shortly before a sea gull flew over and took a dump on the poor little feller.

Twas a stormy day

2008-11-06T13:30:00.000-08:00

A Walk in the Park

2008-10-20T09:33:00.000-07:00

Travel on the strait

2008-09-27T17:20:00.001-07:00

Beach walk

2008-09-27T17:17:00.000-07:00

On the beach - Judy being mean to a fish

2008-09-21T10:54:00.000-07:00

Day one - 0n the beach

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BC

2008-09-17T18:51:00.000-07:00

Tribe's Potato Crop

2008-08-21T06:11:00.001-07:00

Newfoundland visit 2008

2008-08-18T16:02:00.000-07:00

Our new best friend in PEI plus about a million of her friends

2008-08-18T16:00:00.001-07:00

Home Farm - Kiwi, Taters & Corn (my cash crop), Squash and Pole Beans

2008-07-15T16:00:00.000-07:00

The End

2008-07-15T15:51:00.001-07:00

Barry's Bay

2008-07-15T15:37:00.000-07:00

Bonnechere Caves

2008-07-15T15:27:00.000-07:00

Pembroke Week 2

2008-07-15T15:13:00.000-07:00

Cottage Week 1

2008-07-06T06:32:00.001-07:00

Canada Day 2008

2008-07-06T06:28:00.000-07:00

Vegan Dinner - backwards

2008-07-06T06:19:00.001-07:00

One Very Strange Old Woman

2008-06-14T07:11:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday, Mom - Thanks to Michelle & Sarah

2008-06-14T07:02:00.000-07:00

Mom's New Outdoor Chair - It is too nice to put outside?

2008-05-21T13:00:00.000-07:00

Meduxnekeag River Walk - What is it?

2008-05-21T12:46:00.000-07:00

The bush with the yellow flowers?

Enjoying the sun in Ottawa.

2008-04-28T12:58:00.000-07:00

Where did they go?

2008-04-28T12:49:00.000-07:00

Sarah's Birthday

2008-04-28T12:38:00.000-07:00

Recently found photos

2008-03-03T11:38:00.000-08:00

These can be taken off for a monetary consideration.

Little Tidebrook Farm

2008-02-13T07:52:00.000-08:00

@ Bateman's

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Family events - Burwash

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Family events - London Road School

2008-02-13T07:31:00.000-08:00

@ Hastings

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Family events - Beachy Head

2008-02-13T04:08:00.000-08:00

The Middle House, Mayfield

2008-02-13T04:01:00.000-08:00

Lasagna

Roast Pigeon

@ Battle

2008-02-12T13:26:00.000-08:00

Family events - Smarden

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Family events - Biddenden

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Family events - Mayfield 3

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Family events - Mayfield 2

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Family events - Mayfield

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Family events - St. Paul's School

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Family events - St. Paul's Church, Rusthall

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Family events - Toad Rock, Rusthall

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Family events - 15 Hillview Road, Rusthall

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Family events - 23 The Pantiles, Tunbridge Wells

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Family events - 6 Castle St., Tunbridge Wells

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Family events - Cold Bath Farm

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Sterling driving

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Tunbridge Wells

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Wadhurst - birthplace of Frederick Wallace

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3 Ingoldsby Cottages

Inside #1

Victoria & Albert Museum 2

2008-02-12T08:23:00.001-08:00

King Henry VIII

Swaddling clothes for a baby

No-body with drinking glass and No-body with pipe

Victoria & Albert Museum

2008-02-12T08:19:00.001-08:00

Retable of St George

Still loose in London

2008-02-12T08:15:00.001-08:00

Kew yet again

2008-02-12T07:24:00.001-08:00

Kew again

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Monkey Tree

Kew Gardens continued

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and

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British Parliament & Big Ben

Kew Gardens

And yet again

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Tower of London

Tower Bridge
London Eye

And again

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Southwark Church

London continued again

2008-02-12T06:46:00.000-08:00

London continued

2008-02-12T06:25:00.001-08:00

This was the day we visited The British Museum.

London Day 1

2008-02-12T03:42:00.000-08:00

Circling London and then a walk in Hyde Park. The Royal Albert Hall just outside the park. Sorry about the picture of the dog poo can. I can't get it to turn.

Our 2007 Christmas Letter

2008-01-03T16:26:00.000-08:00

The year consisted of WORK, NAPS and a few other items.

January: Michelle had a birthday.

February: We went to North Carolina and had a great time. Who knew that Gettysburg was in Pennslyvania?

March: We cannot remember.

April: Sarah had a birthday.

May: We were in Ottawa for a visit with Nik & Michelle.

June: I had a birthday. We went to Malpeque, PEI.

July: We brought Nik & Michelle home for a few days. Then we took them back.

August: Sterling retired, which we celebrated in Malpeque, PEI. Sterling bought a van. Sarah started back to school, studying for a lab tech.

September: Sterling had the big 65th birthday. We had a week beside the Ottawa River with Nik & Michelle. Sterling went back to work.

October: We celebrated our anniversary in Malpeque, PEI. Do you get the feeling we like it there?

November: I retired. The computer crashed. I went back to work.

December: We are still working and grumpy.

Bah Humbug!

Sterl's 65 Poor fella!

2007-09-19T12:59:00.000-07:00

Try
Try again
Oops!

September Vacation 2007

2007-09-19T12:47:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Nik & Michelle we spent a great week on the Ottawa River at Pembroke.

Happy Birthday - Sarah

2007-04-12T04:32:00.000-07:00

April 1, 2007 Tomatoes

2007-04-01T15:00:00.000-07:00

Gunky's Tomatoes

2007-03-23T05:44:00.000-07:00

In the beginning.

Possible grandmother or her sister???

2007-02-12T06:43:00.000-08:00

I have decided to adjust the family tree to accept this woman.
I have forgotten how I found her but I like her. I will accept suggestions on which branch to put her in and how close the relationship.

2007-02-05T15:01:00.000-08:00

BIG SISTER IS WATCHING!

Happy Birthday - Michelle

2007-01-08T11:56:00.000-08:00

Christmas 2006 in Woodstock

2007-01-01T15:45:00.000-08:00

And how did the plants do?

2007-01-01T15:43:00.000-08:00

Christmas in Ottawa -December 15 - 20, 2006

2007-01-01T15:23:00.000-08:00

Oh, no - I cannot look!

Sterling on the hill.

Stephen - Where are you!

Rideau Canal

Our beautiful daughters.

At the Senator Game

Boo Hoo

2006-10-31T14:26:00.000-08:00

The monster again or his brother

BOO!!!

2006-10-31T14:09:00.000-08:00

A monster lives in my house!

Happy Anniversary

2006-10-30T15:16:00.000-08:00

Happy Aniversary! 36 today at 1930

Thanksgiving Weekend

2006-10-10T04:24:00.000-07:00

We were off again on travels - Thanksgiving weekend. I started out cranky - WHY can't I stay home for a bit? But it was a very nice trip--Moncton to Truro to Digby to Saint John.
The first night we stayed in a motel in Windsor, NS. This was the only motel room left in the town. The manager did not believe in turning on the heat this early in the fall. He actually told Sterling this! So we went prepared to bed in jogging pants, sweatshirts, socks and fleece hats. We needed them all. The next morning the water was frozen in the mudpuddles. We made a fast get away--in the car with the HEATER on high.
Now I will leave the pictures to tell the story.

Pumpkins & yes, that really is ice on those puddles

Apples & Me

Kentville Decorations
They were all through town. Batman, kings, queens, castles, horses, unicorns, anything and everything made an appearance.

Look Off In the Valley

Ferry to New Brunswick

2006-09-25T06:49:00.000-07:00

Bike Story
Growing up on a farm in rural New Brunswick in the 1950's was adventurous. That we lived close to the river on a plateau, with the river bank in front and the hills behind us, added to the possibilities. The summers were long, hot and busy.
One summer day my cousin, Burtt, and I were looking for something new to do. Snooping around in the granary, we found my father’s old bike that he used as a boy. It looked really solid and useable. The tires were hard rubber so--no flat tires. That it did not have a chain presented a problem but it was surmountable.
It was decided that the bike would hold the two of us. If we pushed it up the hill behind the barn, we could have a nice long run down through the pasture. The public road went up the hill but if we used the field traffic would not be a problem. After all, we slid down that hill many times in the winter without mishap. The cows and the pony would move out of the way. We had this all very well planned and, we thought, "What could go wrong?"
So off we went taking turns pushing the bike. Halfway up the hill, we translated "a solid bike" to "a very heavy bike." As we pushed and sweated we were thinking of that long, lovely ride down. Did I mention this was a hot sunny summer day?
Finally THE TOP! Burtt, being 18 months older and a boy, was in front to steer. I remember this as being--his decision. I was to sit on the hard seat and just hang on. We arranged ourselves on the bike and off we went. Picking up speed as we raced down the hill. Wow! What a great idea!
About 100 feet down the hill, just as we were really getting the hang of it--disaster happened. We hit a hardened and, I am sure giant, cow pattie. Off we went flying through the air–ass over tea kettle--landing in the grass and, probably, other patties. I had a few scrapes and bruises. Burtt, on the other hand, being a boy, sustained a more painful injury.
End of story. No further bike trips on the hill happened. The bike went quietly back to the granary. And, in case any of you were worried, Burtt is now a great-grandfather.

Spider

2006-09-18T07:37:00.000-07:00

This guy made the largest web just overnight. Granted he is a big guy but still!

Family History

2006-09-17T12:09:00.000-07:00

Why does anyone do it? They must be crazy. I have spent the day working on about a dozen pages of TRIBE's. Sample from Arthur's Book:
The story runs that William Tribe and his partner - for he worked in partners with another man - were one night in winter riding together on the Down in the neighbourhood of the famous Beachy Head, each mounted on one [of] the pair of horses which drew their van with which they were wont to do their 'business', and perhaps were even then in the act of riding them out to hitch them on the van. A snowstorm was raging at the time, with a fury which one who has battled with the elements in that bleak neighbourhood, - as has the writer- can appreciate.*
Blinded by the fury of the storm, and baulked by the intense darkness, they rode nearer the famous Head than they intended, and before they realized their danger were upon the extreme edge of the cliff. Escape was impossible!
(*I find since writing the above that it is improbable that a van was employed by the adventurers, owing to the need for great mobility. Pack-saddles were probably used. AWT)
Down they went over that awful height, down that sheer drop of [blank] feet to the beach below; down to what they must have realized as utter destruction.
Almost, it would seem, by a miracle, our ancestor escaped with his life; his horse was killed. His companion was less fortunate and lost his life, though his horse survived; William Tribe therefore rode out on his companion's horse; the state of the tide at the time is not recorded. History neglects to say whether our ancestor brought his late comrade's body out with him, or whether he informed the Eastbourne Coastguard of the accident and sent them to the rescue of his unfortunate partner-in-crime. As, however, his intent and inclination up to that time had been to avoid the 'men in blue' as much as possible, the latter supposition is not at all probable.
Another story I must give, and this one bears a greater foundation of fact than the other, and comes from a member of the family alive at the present time. It is interesting as showing the tenacity and bulldog courage of our doughty ancestor. This story is undoubtedly true as the authority is unimpeachable.
William Tribe was one day cornered by the coastguard and 'held up' by one of them whilst in the pursuit of his calling and accompanied by his horse. He was unable to escape, and, reconciling himself to the loss of his stock-in-trade, he determined to defend his own precious person and life to the last. He fought the exciseman for two hours, with a club against his sturdy opponent's trusty sword, and, after a fierce struggle, was at last successful, though he came out of the encounter with a broken skull. This, however, was but a detail in those stirring times. The date and place of the struggle are unknown, but the scene was probably the neighbourhood of Beachy Head, Crow Link and Birline Gap, three places on the coast surrounding the Downs, close together, and formerly well known as smuggling resorts.
After this affray, our ancestor had his skull mended with silver filling, and eventually settled in Kent, in the neighbourhood of Tenterden, where he married. I am unable to learn whether he from this time discontinued his smuggling exploits, or whether the ride over Beachy Head occurred before or after his marriage, but at all events I have it on good authority that he was by no means a good provider for his large family. His son John declared that he never had a meal at home after he was seven years of age, but was obliged to go out to work, and I suppose, to live away from home.

Relaxing

2006-09-17T11:52:00.000-07:00

I really like this picture. It is what I want to do in the my golden years.

Just relax in a beautiful setting and watch the world go by.

2006-09-17T11:49:00.000-07:00

This is a tryout.