more tidbits from Cus

i have just found some old notes, including some of her stories told to me years before her death in the latter part of the 1990s.

Her birth name was Rhoda. She was raised with five siblings by their father, Daggy Isaacs, their mother having died in childbirth when Rhoda was two years old. She was born at Queensbury where her father sometimes worked, when not travelling around the area on his donkey or his white stallion named 'True Blue', in order to treat sick people and animals as he was a 'bush doctor' of renown. Rhoda and her siblings were his 'guinea pigs' from an early age, having to sample the bush concoctions which he brewed.

Daggy fathered many children throughout the Leeward side of the island, leaving his current mistress, Lena for extensive periods, to take care of his children, then numbering eight. Cus recollected the bad treatment they received. Her only possession from her mother was a string of beads and an empty trunk. She briefly attended school before running away to live with an older sister in a nearby village, where she stayed for about three years!

Her adolescence seems to have been no happier. She vividly recalled her father hitting her on the head with a cutlass upon hearing she was working on the Estate. She felt that this lash was the cause of her bad eyesight! Her first job was in the cocoa fields where she picked out the pods eaten by rats. When she was about eighteen years old, she bought a sow from her sister, paying her a little each month. Unfortunately, her sister took back the pig as Cus missed a couple payments. This did not deter her, and soon she was able to buy another. From that day until not long before her death, she was never without a pig!

The overseer of Queensbury was named Mr Lockhart, and she became pregnant by him. Upon hearing about this, Cus's sister put her out of the house, in disgrace. A woman in the village gave her shelter until Mr Lockhart designated a plot of land on the Estate, on which she could put a tiny stick house! Unfortunately, the baby was stillborn. She lived for two years in the stick house, before meeting Willie who was a carpenter. She obtained breadfruit wood with which Willie built her a stronger house. Her sister became very ill so Rhoda looked after her five children while continuing her work on the estate. Her tasks were varied - picking cotton, weeding arrowroot, driving a small gang of workers, and 'throwing out' manure. After four years of life with Willie, she had enough of his laziness and womanizing. "one day", she said, "as she was sharing out his lunch'" she said to him, "Willie, you ain't decide to marry me?" He replied, "Rhoda, you really expect me to marry you?" Her reply was, "thank you." Thus, the romance ended, despite her father asking to give him another chance. Soon after this, a new overseer arrived, named Samuel, who soon started showing interest in her. She did not encourage him, she said. Cus turned down Samuel's marriage proposal at that time, and so he then married someone called Ruth with whom he had 6 children. i think that they formed a relationship during his time with Ruth! As previously written,Cus continued in a relationship with Samuel for many years until his death.

This has been lengthy! Until next time.
brenda

the family that blogs together...

Hello family and friends,

A further request to you all to please add to our blog when time permits.  No matter how insignificant your offering may seem,  it will be of interest to someone of a different generation!   We know the joy we would receive in finding someone's journal from a long time ago, even from our own parents!

Remember that your contribution can be a short piece!

Love and blessings
brenda

Elizabeth Punnett Mackenzie (1772 - 1795) and Alexander Kenneth Mackenzie 1769 – 1838

Some time ago, Brenda shared with me an issue of a newsletter for the Clan MacKenzie Society in the Americas which included a contribution by a Bill Davidson on the adventures of an Alexander Kenneth Mackenzie, and his 1792 marriage to Elizabeth Punnett in St.Vincent.  It looks like we have a match for Elizabeth on the family tree...

CHRISTOPHER PUNNETT (CHRISTOPHER, CHRISTOPHER, ROGER) was born 1739 in St. Michael, Barbados, and died April 1786 in St Vincent.  He married a Nanton.

Children of CHRISTOPHER PUNNETT and Ms. Nanton are: 

  i.         ELIZA FRANCES PUNNETT, Christening: January 14, 1772, St Andrews parish
  ii.        ELIZABETH PUNNETT. Christening: November 28, 1772, St Andrews Parish
  iii.       MARY PUNNETT, b. 1778. Christening: September 21, 1782
  iv.       FRANCES PUNNETT, b. 1780; Christening: Sept 21, 1782; d. May 15, 1795, St. Vincent.
  v.        CHRISTOPHER PUNNETT, b. Sept 21, 1782; d. June 4, 1844, Mustique,  St. Vincent.  He married ELIZABETH DAVIDSON November 27, 1803, daughter of DR. DAVIDSON and HANNAH ELMES.
  vi.       JAMES PUNNETT, b. April 9, 1786.

However, the entry for Elizabeth on Davidson's website states:

b. 21 Nov 1772, Santa Cruz, West Indies   d. Feb 1795, Port L’Orient, France

Assuming that Santa Cruz is Saint Croix, I looked for a Punnett connection, and see that there is a Punnett Bay there... anyone know anything else that might add some clarity?

Below are relevant excerpts, but the whole piece is well worth reading.  http://www.electricscotland.com/mackenzie/images/march2007.pdf  

As Brenda pointed out, it should make a marvellous film!  

Curiously, by Alexander Mackenzie's account, he also had a niece (daughter of his sister Margaret) named Eliza Punnett, but there is nothing further about her... could she have been named for his wife?  Again, any thoughts?

Extract from the Memoirs of Alexander Kenneth Mackenzie Esq, Dochcairn, Bathurst, N.S.W. Written by himself from memory at the age of 68

…My sister Margaret married a Mr. Clunes, a merchant in Aberdeen by whom she had 3 children, John, a Major in the Company’s service at Bombay, and married to a daughter of General Prole. William Henry, a surgeon, in the Navy, who has been dead for some years, and Eliza Punnett, lately the widow of Major Snodgrass, in the Company’s service [Presumably, the East India Company] in Bombay, and last year married again to a Mr. Smythe, a man of property and the member for Westmeath in Ireland…

…On 30 June, 1792, I was united in marriage to Miss Elizabeth Punnett, the ceremony was performed by the Rev. Mr. Findenter at the house of our friend Mrs. St. Lawrence, from which we adjourned to the residence of another friend (with whom we were to spend our honeymoon) a Mrs. Wiston, from thence we paid a visit to Mrs. Davidson, before we settled ourselves in our own happy home. Miss Punnett’s father was a man of good family and had been dead some years, leaving a widow, 3 daughters and 1 son, to inherit his property. I obtained a good fortune with Miss Punnett and it was a most desirable match in every point of view - I trust she is now reaping the reward in Heaven, of a well spent life on Earth, for her pilgrimage on this earth was of very short duration.

She was a girl of elegant figure and most graceful manner, a beautiful expressive countenance, she possessed a mind highly cultivated and attractive, very amiable disposition, and above all, her adoration of that being who gave her life was sublime and striking to a degree; we were most fondly attached to each other, but a good Providence thought proper to take this dear Angel to himself, when we had enjoyed a few brief years of each other’s society; her mother’s residence was at Nova Zembla, about 50 miles from St. Vincent, she was on a visit to a cousin of her own when I first met her, a Miss Nanton, who resided about 10 miles from town. When I commenced paying my addresses to her, I used regularly for a length of time to ride that distance every evening after 6 o’clock and home again (36 miles) in toto; for I felt too anxious with such a heavy responsibility on my shoulders to be even absent for one night, but so long a ride every evening nearly killed me.

I was very happy when it was proposed she should come into St. Vincent to remain until our marriage with her friends, Mrs. St. Lawrence and Mrs. Davidson.  About this time I had a serious illness, from which it was thought I could not recover, and well do I remember, though so many years have elapsed since that period, how constantly that dear Angel visited (as was then supposed my dying bed) in company with another young friend, bringing 2 or 3 times a day cordials made with her own hands.

…Mrs. Mackenzie was confined with her first child, a sweet little girl, on 25 Aug. 1793…

 ...we made up our minds to visit England. In July 1794, Mrs. Mackenzie, myself, a free woman and a negro boy of my own embarked on board the “Sarah Rebecca” for London, leaving our sweet little girl under the care of good old Mrs. Punnett (Mrs. M.’s mother) with the intention of returning in less than 12 months.  Some considerable time before we left the West Indies a war had broken out, and martial law being proclaimed, I, like the other young men of the island, was obliged to do military duty day and night till such time as reinforcements of the military should arrive from headquarters, it was hard duty and made me the more hurry my departure from the island....

Mr. Mackenzie says that Christopher's heirs were his widow, three daughters and a son.  According to the family tree, Elizabeth had 3 sisters (Eliza, Mary, and Frances), one of whom (Frances) died in May 1795, and two brothers - Christopher (died in Mustique in 1884) and James.  We have no date of birth for James, so perhaps he died prior to Mr. Mackenzie coming on the scene?

Presumably, the conflict referred to would have been the French Revolutionary wars (1793 -1892)?

Any ideas about Nova Zembla, about 50 miles from St. Vincent?  Could this have been a house on Mustique?

No more is heard of the free woman or Mackenzie's "negro boy", and we don't know if he perished in captivity, was abandoned, or continued on with his father.

The account, courtesy of Bill Davidson, continues…

Memorandum: The remaining portion was destroyed by cockroaches. It only continued on until the time of his arrival in England after his escape from the captivity of the French prison.

The trip to Europe to which the young couple looked forward with so much pleasure, had a most disastrous termination. Their ship (The “Sarah Rebecca”) was captured by a French man-of-war and all the passengers and crew taken prisoners to Port L’Orient in France. Here they remained for several months, over-crowded and badly provisioned, and suffering so much from the cold that they were compelled to break up their boxes for firewood. These hardships were especially trying no doubt to the delicate West Indian constitution of Mrs. Mackenzie, and she did not long survive the birth of her second child, which took place while she was a prisoner.

We find this entry in Mr. Mackenzie's writing in the old family Bible: -

“Elizabeth Mackenzie, wife of A. K .Mackenzie, died in child-bed at Port L’Orient in France (where she was taken prisoner with her husband on a voyage from St. Vincent to London) Feb. 1795. Child died Bristol Mar 7, 95.”

Thus was Mr. Mackenzie left a very youthful widower. After committing to the grave the remains of his beloved wife, he was fortunate enough to regain his liberty, and escaped to his native land. It appears that he persuaded an English or Irish captain to have him smuggled on board ship in a “cask”.  The ship was bound for Cork, where in due time she arrived.

There he was joined by the nurse with the poor little motherless babe, and from thence they all crossed to Bristol, where the infant died… the little girl left in the West Indies with the grandmother, and  named after his own mother, Mary Price, likewise died…

"...the delicate West Indian constitution of Mrs. Mackenzie..."!!!!!!!

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald

One love!
Lisbie   

Ruthie – my Mummy – Pharaoh – Ruthless... by Bunny

Living at Villa and Villa Point 

Ruth and Max, Roger, Lynn, Michael and I lived next door to the Aquatic Club.

Ruth holding Michael; Roger, Bunny and Lynn

Max was a pilot and the airplane hangar was there as it was a seaplane - the Grumman Goose.  I swam each evening off the jetty in time for Max's arrival so I could swim out and get a ride in.

Young Island was also close enough to swim to, except there were tons of sea eggs, which far too often I would be victim to those sharp spines.  It would take burning a candle and covering them with candle wax to get them out.

The Aquatic Club was a great meeting spot and ever so many people loved to visit with Ruthie.

When we moved to Villa Point near to the Sardines it was Ruthie, Roger and me.

view from Villa Point - Indian Bay Beach, Dove Island, Long Island, Young Island, Fort Duvernette

Ruthie had such varied interests.  She had a beautiful flower garden and every Monday morning I took a beautiful bouquet of flowers to school which the nuns certainly appreciated.  She read and learned and got it done (her way).

We always had animals – rabbits, dogs, goats - one that butt the china cabinet thinking there was another goat there – it was billy goat's reflection.

She loved Carnival and would encourage the teenagers to play mass and then end up making many of the costumes.  There would be a big dance at the Aquatic club and she would make herself a costume to attend.

Bunny as Victorian lady

With Aunty Shirley's very able assistance they would every year have a big birthday party for me – making everything – and the cake it was a work of art.  So beautiful – but time consuming and it must have been very tiring for her.  She did these things without the convenient appliances we have today.

When Ruth and Chrissy got married and John "Cool" was born we moved to Twenty Hill.  A most beautiful spot on the leeward side of the Island. Even today I still maintain it is the most beautiful place I have ever known.  More on Twenty Hill to come in the next post.

Bunny

one of the views from Twenty Hill

Memento mori (Latin: "remember (that you have) to die")

the medieval Latin theory and practice of reflection on mortality, especially as a means of considering the vanity of earthly life and the transient nature of all earthly goods and pursuits.

Daddy and Auntie Eileen’s first child, Malcolm Alexander Punnett, took his exit from this world on Saturday morning somewhere around 8 o’clock.  (July 04, 1941 – February 20, 2016).

Malcolm was an exceptional being – in his independent thinking and lifestyle, his razor intellect, his deep and innate humility, the breadth of his talents and interests, and especially in the gentleness, peace and genuine love that characterised him.  

My earliest memories of Malcolm are of a handsome, vigorous, carefree jock.  He went to school in St Vincent, then in St Lucia, and after to Cirencester College in England.  He played cricket, football and tennis; drank, hunted, and partied.  He loved Elvis and Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash, knew all the words, and was the worst singer in a family of bad singers.  He never took himself seriously, was never unkind or ungenerous, and asked little of the world.

He married the lovely Geraldine Salmon who came to St Vincent from England with her parents when her father took a job as district doctor.  They had two children: Rocky on February 05, 1966 and Rachel on February 19, 1968. On November 04 1986, Michelle Zenique was born to Malcolm and Sharon.  

As I remember it, during an extended stay in the UK in the mid 70s, Malcolm pursued an interest in Eastern religions and philosophies, and subsequently moved into another way of life.  His marriage to Geraldine ended, although I believe their fondness for each other endured.   

Malcolm built a marvelous hut in the mountains at Copay Marrow, complete with generator and bathtub.  Years later he built a less elaborate hut at Queensbury, and his last domicile was in the ‘skyscraper’ (pictured in the previous post) in the grounds of Rachael’s home, site of Malcolm and Geraldine’s original homestead.

Our brother contained multitudes.  He was happy alone in the mountains, and happy interacting with a broad spectrum of people – young, old, rich, poor, educated or not, his sympathetic manner drew people to him and he embraced them with keen interest and little judgement. For many years he alternately caroused and retreated. His philosophies grew more esoteric and eluded many of us, but his essential beauty and grace kept us close.  He wanted little, lacked any possessiveness or acquisitiveness, and kept things as simple as possible.  I think he managed to do what so few of us ever do, he lived his life in harmony with his beliefs and inclinations, and he was beloved on the earth.  Malcolm’s legend will outlive us all.  

A world without Malcolm is a less bright world to contemplate, especially for his children whom he loved beyond measure.  But our memory of him will be joyful.

Bless up!

In peace and love.

Lisbie x

 

Malcolm, with Rocky, Rachael, Zen

"When one’s dead, then one’s dead. This squirrel will become earth all in his time. And later on still there’ll grow trees from him, with new squirrels skipping about in them. Do you think that’s so very sad?"

Too-ticky, from the Moomin series by Tove Jansson

I read in this excerpt from the School of Life that Chinese culture is reverent towards the yinshi (recluse), someone who chooses to leave behind the busy political and commercial world and live more simply, usually up the side of a mountain – in a hut. The tradition begins in the 4th century AD, when a high-ranking government official named Tao Yuanming surrendered his position at court and moved to the countryside to farm the land, make wine, and write. In his poem, ‘On Drinking Wine’, he recounts the riches that poverty have brought him:

Plucking chrysanthemums from the eastern hedge

I gaze into the distance at the southern mountain.

The mountain air is refreshing at sunset

As the flocking birds are returning home.

In such things we find true meaning,

But when I try to explain, I can’t find the words.

 

"Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and 
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep."

Prospero's soliloquy from The Tempest

https://youtu.be/qtF0pOW-33g

 

February 11, 2016

Dear Great Nieces/Nephews,

While visiting our eldest brother, Malcolm, yesterday , his son Rocky, his wife Oranuth (ae), and daughter, Marina,  Rachel, and Lynden (Robin's wife of nearly 50 years) were also there.   Malcolm had been bed bound for over one year, and has been cheerful constantly.  Many visitors have gone to his treehouse type cabin where the views have been admired.  Malcolm suggests to them all to climb the ladder adjoining his bed to see the best view .  Many do accept!

He is weakening and soon will make his ultimate journey , for which , I am sure, he is  prepared!  At one point Rocky mentioned that  Prowler, who hangs out at the Gas Station, had suggested and brought a bottle of whale oil to cure  his bad cough.  Rocky accepted and did as instructed -  a shot glass with the oil, lime juice, salt and strong rum.  He braced himself and his description of swallowing it reminded me of  our father, Chris having his daily breakfast of a raw egg with salt and Worcester sauce, which he swallowed while standing and, Malcolm added that he always said:  " Stay down, you bitch!"  Rocky then said that he remembers and started copying his grandfather!  The whale oil did cure the cough so he suggested  it then to Rachel to heal hers!

I do remember that whale (black fish) oil was popular and for sale amongst the Vincentian communities to cure many ailments, not realizing that the younger folks continue the tradition.  Black fish are still caught in  the fishing village of Barrouallie and many people enjoy the meat.

Peace, love and light to you all
Great aunt Brenda