N.B. For further help in understanding the following notes reference can be made to the many photo albums, which date from Hong Kong to the present day in New Zealand. Also Gran' Dealy's Black Book & Martin's files and notes from A.H.Ough.

THE OUGHS.

The name Ough has been traced back to William I and originates from the surname Oghe, which belonged to a Baron who arrived in Britain with William. The line of this Baron's descendants follows through various connecting channels to Edward I of England, where the family shield and crest appears below, but with a bar sinister since the family heir apparent was an illegitimate offspring of the King.

 From this point the family line is vague, but appears again in a burial vault near Highgate, London, where certain stone effigies of Knights of the Crusades bear a distinct facial resemblance to the present day members of the Ough family.

The Oughs were a haughty, autocratic, mostly wealthy, money spending lot members of the so called 'upper class' gentry. Handsome in appearance, blue eyed and fair haired, the type persisting in several of their descendants to this day, although the direct line is dying out as far as our branch is concerned. They were noted for their dry and somewhat sarcastic sense of humour and quick wit. They did not, however, suffer fools gladly, or those who made themselves conspicuous by foolish behaviour in public.

There are a couple of handwritten books, one bound in vellum, that give many details of family history. Father [A.H.Ough] used to pursue this knowledge avidly in cathedrals, village churches, graveyards and anywhere where there might be records. He was successful in tracing the family back to 1540, with reasonable accuracy, although of course, at that date, or at any rate, 1550, there were more than a million people in England and names were common and much intermingled. However, he went on to extract information from ancient cathedral archives which appeared to trace the name Ough - Oughe - d'Eau - Ew - d'Ew - back to a castle called Ew, built in A.D.935 by a Comte d'Eau, on the coast of Normandy and close to Dieppe. St.Cleer in Cornwall was the principal source of information. These records also contain descriptions of barbarities common in earlier times; such as tortures and disfigurements for disloyalty [especially in Cromwell's time], etc.

Her father and mother were of the landed gentry and were considered one of the handsomest couples in the Kent county of England, where Great Grandfather Bartholomew owned a huge property which produced hops. This wealth was considerable, the house opulent, and parties, balls, hunt meets and lavish dinners were frequently held. Grandfather, being a Squire in his own right, led life to the full in every respect as was expected by his many dependants, his family and the crowds of rich friends he numbered amongst the county gentry.

All went well until the day when, after a hunt meet, and having imbibed a little too much port, Great Grandfather was suddenly called by his overseer to urgently inspect theoast house machinery, where something had seriously gone wrong. This proved his undoing, for while passing somewhat unsteadily through the machinery room, he slipped; his arm was caught and so badly mangled that it had to be amputated without anaesthetic which was as yet unknown in those days, since effective pain killers for casualties of this kind had not, as yet, been fully developed. Great Grandfather recovered minus half an arm and hand, the latter being replaced by a sinister looking silver hook. Grandma Bartholomew passed away soon after, leaving behind a grieving husband, four daughters and one son.

One of these daughters, Anne, became my Grandmother Ough. Another married a wealthy landowner, by name Phelp. The other two sisters never married and the only son died young.

As the years passed, Great Grandfather Bartholomew, a man of violent temper and autocratic manner, although of striking looks with dark curling hair and beard, became more and more tyrannical towards his family and dependants; who, sad to relate, feared him quite considerably. Indeed, with his tall and elegant figure, piercing dark eyes and silver hook he must have presented a somewhat awesome picture, especially to small grandchildren, as my mother remembered when, upon being taken to visit him by my grandmother - after staring fiercely at her, he bellowed "Come here child, I'm not a goblin ", and fixing his silver hook in the belt of her dress, pulled her towards him to be condescendingly kissed upon the forehead.

Came the day when my grandmother [Anna] fell in love with Grandfather - Henry Ough, 1836 - 1919. An architect by profession, of good family, but not much money. Great Grandfather flew into one of his rages, forbidding the marriage as Grandpa was not considered 'good enough'. Grandma defied the old man and married Grandpa, which somewhat strained the family relationship, but in time feelings appeared to have calmed down somehow.

Another daughter who married a Mr. Phelp, produced quite a number of children and, being pampered in every way owing to her husband's wealth, became a spoilt hypochondriac. One terrible day Mr. Phelp was thrown from his horse and never regained consciousness. Upon the reading of the Will, it was discovered to the family's horror that the vast wealth had been squandered over the years; the property was mortgaged to the hilt and no money was left to even pay the servants. It seems that desperate circumstances will bring out the best in some people, for my Grandmother got off her sick bed, sorted things out somehow, and managed to bring her children up by pocketing her pride and becoming a seamstress for those of the landed gentry who, out of pity helped her out. She survived and eventually passed away respected by all.

Tragedy was also to strike the only son, who lived only to the age of twenty four. Great Grandfather Bartholomew was the true Victorian Head of the Family tyrant. Even although his son was over the age of twenty one he was not allowed to have his own door key to the house and was ordered to be within doors before midnight on the occasions when he went out at night. On a certain evening he finally rebelled and asked his father for the key, saying he was sick of being treated like a schoolboy. Great Grandfather was not amused and told his son in no uncertain language, quite unprintable here, that he would get no key and could go to his 'rendezvous' as usual - plus somewhere 'hot' at the same time; The young man never came back. Never having been brought up to work in his life, he sank lower and lower and months later, managed to communicate with my Grandmother from his dying bed in a garret, somewhere in London. Grandmother went to him, but it was too late and he died in her arms, of consumption and starvation.

Time passed, but Great Grandfather's mental condition did not improve. It fell to the lot of his two remaining unmarried daughters to cope with him until he finally died. The story goes that one day he escaped from the house and staggered down the garden in his night gown, waving his hook and yelling that the Devil was after him, which in fact might not have been too far from the truth after all! Whatever happened - R.I.P.

HENRY OUGH [1836-19191 & ANNE OUGH (1837-1920 nee Bartholomew) had a big family; Arthur, Eleanor [whose twin died], Marion, Leonard [who died at 7 years], May [my mother], Sydney and Amy. Sydney was my husband's father, thus making my husband [Walter Ough] and myself, first cousins. Amy was the youngest member of the Ough family.

As a beginning to a few recolJections of the 'Clan of Ough' I will start with Grandfather Ough

HENRY was an architect, inter alia he designed the Huntley & Palmer's biscuit factory in Reading. He also, with his son Arthur, invented and patented the OHa Ventilator. Thinking of Grandpa Ough recalls to mind a tall figure topped by a white haired, partially bald high head with a fair skinned pink and white face, surrounded by a long white beard. He was blessed with a pair of amazingly blue eyes that gazed at the world benignly through a pair of old fashioned spectacles.

ANNA r(Grandma Ough) was much smaller, with iron grey hair tightly drawn back under a dainty lace cap, with a high boned collar worn high up under the chin, a white shawl over the shoulders and a black dress reaching to the ground. She had a strongly boned face of darkish complexion, much wrinkled, dark eyes, somewhat severe behind gold rimmed spectacles - she reminded me, as a small child, of a crinkled, but handsome walnut. My great grandparents were kind, but somehow distinctly awesome. At the time recalled here Grandpa was retired and they lived in a three storey house crammed with heavy furniture, with a maid, a cook and an old yellow crested white cockatoo with bunions on its feet, and were looked after by Aunt Eleanor, who lived with them. Due to their advanced age they were not very mobile, but always attended church on Sunday, followed by a dinner of traditional roast with its accompaniments. After a short rest they would issue forth, Grandpa in his flower pot hat and Grandma quite fearsome in a black bonnet faced with glittering beads of jet, which quivered and trembled as she walked, to take a sedate ride around the town in an elegant vehicle consisting of a carriage, a sleek brown horse and a smart coachman in top hat and uniform. Sunday was a boring day; a depressing pall of gloomy gravity hung over everything and one had a feeling of guilt which was unexplainable, since there never seemed to be any specific sin one had committed to justify such an impression. Frivolity of any sort was strictly frowned upon during Sundays and entertainment not pertaining to religion quite taboo. They had a varied circle of friends and were respected by all who knew them well. They both lived 'till their early 80's and died within a few months of each other in the early 1900's.

ARTHUR OUGH 1863-1946. was fanatically anti-Jewish and far to the right of Genghis Khan, perhaps because of the knowledge that he carried a proportion of Jewish blood himself, as evidenced by the names Savory - Bartholomew in the family tree. He was the eldest of the family and somewhat spoilt and arrogant being the apple of Grandma's eye. Class consciousness was ever a conspicuous trait of the 'Ough clan'. Arthur married a clever violinist, Annie Goldie, who belonged to a company of actors, much to the horror and disapproval of the Grandparents. The marriage was not always a happy one despite Arthur making a fortune out of the 'Rubber Boom', which enabled them and their four children to live in the lap of luxury for a long time. The bubble eventually burst, unhappily, and the old people's style of living became less opulent towards the end of their lives. Uncle Arthur was also twenty four years in Hong Kong, where he engineered the Canton - Hong Kong railway line. He was also architect for the University in this city. It was during this time that he met my father, T.K.Dealy, then assistant head master of Old Queens College. At sometime during this period he showed my father a photograph of the lady who was to become my mother - Anna Margaret Ough. On his next vacation to England my father met my mother, knew her for three weeks, asked for her hand in marriage and eventually she sailed out to Hong Kong to marry him.

Further recollections of Uncle Arthur and Aunt Annie, together with their second son Bernard, or 'Fihnore', and his sister, little Joan 'Dooley', only ten years of age at that time, come to mind. The occasion was an invitation to stay with them during the summer of 1923, at their lavish home of Stanmore, in Dawlish, Devon. The style of living was quite luxurious as the family were still very wealthy. The house was large and richly appointed. It consisted of basements, a ground floor with huge lounge, hall and dining room with fine views on all sides, as the building together with its extensive grounds overlooked the sea. On the second floor were the bedrooms and beautifully appointed bathrooms. The numerous staff of maids, cook, butler and gardener lived, with the exception of the gardener, on the uppermost floor of the house. In the ground there was a fine tennis court and many lovely trees and flowering shrubs. There was also a conservatory in which luscious and enormous strawberries were grown and of which Uncle Arthur was justifiably proud and the neighbours more than envious. The family also owned a little sheltered corner of the beach, where Bernard's friends could enjoy swimming and picnics during the numerous house parties held during the warm summer months. Those parties were fun and the youngsters would have charades and dancing in the evenings, amongst a variety of other entertainments. The Ough hospitality was lavish; breakfast consisted of a quantity of silver dishes containing fruit juice, force, porridge, eggs of all sorts, bacon and kidneys, hot toast, marmalade, tea and coffee, all of which were displayed on a handsome antique sideboard from which one helped oneself. Sad to sad, the waste was pretty bad and much of the opulent spread went out to the servants hall after the meal was completed. This seemed to be the normal procedure after every rep. Eventually Uncle Arthur lost the greater part of his fortune and Stanmore was sold, the family moving into a smaller property called St. Cleer, also in Dawlish and, luckily, built before the crash came.

An amusing incident comes to mind which took place several times on the beach. An asylum for quite harmless old and senile people was situated not far from the seashore, and occasionally some of the inmates were brought to the beach for a swim. One old lady, in frilly bathing cap and modest costume reaching down to her ankles, always brought a kettle which she had filled with imaginary hot water. She would totter down to the water's edge and gracefully pour the kettle contents into the sea before testing its temperature with her bare feet, and then paddling around in the same spot, waving her arms and singing "Come into the garden, Maud", in a cracked and trembling voice. She would then smile, bow and totter, kettle and all, out of the water to join her group. It was all very sad really.

Another memory surfaces before we leave Dawlish. Aunt Annie had a very pretty small foot [actually, she had two of them - my mistake] and possessed a collection of seventy expensive pairs of shoes of various colours and fashionable styles. The furniture in her bedroom was made from Chinese teak and was embossed with her initials. It was made in Hong Kong, where she and Uncle Arthur had lived for a considerable time.

NORMAN ARTHUR OUGH r1898-1965 was the eldest of Arthur's two sons. He was educated at Bootham Quaker College, the reason for which is still unexplained, as the Ough's have always been traditionally staunch Anglicans. He was a genius and an eccentric. He created the most exquisite model ships, correct to the smallest detail. These included model galleons, racing boats, a passenger liner complete with drive machinery, but especially, sixty warships of the British Royal Navy engaged in the Battle of Jutland, all to a scale of 100 feet to one inch. These are now displayed in the Exeter War Museum. He also built the ship models used in the making of the Noel Coward film 'In Which We Serve'. He produced detailed plans of craft of all types for the model building enthusiast and wrote many articles for magazines devoted to ship modelling. His warship models were internationally famous as far as New Zealand and several are to be found in the London War Museum today.

Norman was a strange man, with a sensitive finely featured face. A conscientious objector during the First World War, he was thrown into Dartmoor Prison for a while. The story goes that he escaped and would go, during night time, to Esk Hall in Yorkshire, where the family lived at that time, to obtain food from Aunt Annie, who took great risk in providing it. He was recaptured and returned to the prison for how long history does not relate. Lord Mountbatten gave him the commission of modelling the battleships in which he personally served - again the exact dates of this are uncertain. Amongst other things, Norman was a Theosophist, and in spite. of his genius, never had a cent to his name, never married and lived in garrets in London, to finally die almost a pauper in his sixties, after a sad and lonely life.

HILDA ANNIE OUGH (1900-1924 )the second eldest of Arthur's children was a beautiful girl and a gym teacher. Sadly, she died at the age of twenty four after World War I and during the flu epidemic. She was deeply mourned by a heart broken fiance and her family.

BERNARD GOLDIE OUGH (1907-1989) the second son, was his mother's favourite and, indeed, was handsome as a Greek god. As a young man he was horribly spoilt, but married later and did extremely well, although there were no children. He was a fine athlete and swimmer. He died in 1989 much respected and loved by his employees, being survived by his wife Audrey, a beautiful woman with red hair.

JOAN GOLDIE OUGH [DooleyU1916- )had an extraordinary upbringing and was born long after the others. Aunt Annie never really wanted her and she was pretty much brought up by a cousin of Aunt Annie, who lived with the family and acted as Joan's teacher and governess for many years. Her name was Edie Grey and she was a dear person. Finally Edie got married and Dooley, in her late teens, went over to France as a dance hostess, much to the amazement of the Ough family. Stories about this period of her life are a bit shadowy, but she seemed to be involved in shows of some sort where she performed high dives, eventually injuring her neck. Somewhere along the way she met a Belgian army officer, to whom she was married in France. The marriage ended in divorce. Joan came back to England and stayed with Arthur and Annie at St. Cleer's. Here again is a gap in the story, but Joan finally married a journalist, Edward Ward Harris.   Joan is an extremely clever flower painter. Amongst our collection of cassettes, there is one made by Joan herself with regard to her life history. This gives an excellent picture of her and is of considerable interest.

ELEANOR SAVORY OUGH (1865-1956.)Her twin sister died when quite small and Aunt 'E' [as she was called by the family] always swore that she, herself, cut three sets of teeth instead of two because of the close connection with the twin deceased. She also blamed her arthritis on her port drinking, cigar smoking ancestors, who often ended up ignominiously under the richly appointed dinner table after the usual several course meal! She never married and was an accomplished flower painter and actress, being destined for the operatic stage, but tragically lost her wonderful voice after catching dyptheria while on holiday and just before taking up her training. Needless to say, Grandma and Grandpa Ough were horrified at the prospect of their eldest daughter going on the stage. Eleanor was quite a character in her way and a bit of a trial to other members of her family,- since at times she could prove rather embarrassing. For example; she took my husband, Walter Ough, when still a schoolboy, to church one Sunday and when her underpants suddenly dropped down around her ankles and landed on the pavement, she picked them up without turning a hair and told him to put them in his pocket !! She also played the organ competently and often performed on a small one that stood in the sitting room of the grandparents house. This proved a painful experience because the dog howled dismally, and this excited 'Cockey', inspiring him to dance and make messes on the much prized carpet!

Recollections also come to mind of cupboards in her room at 'Woodhatch', the guest house where she lived in Streatham, London, after the grandparents died. When opened, mysterious tins and paper bags containing crumpets, biscuits and other goodies would cascade on to the floor with startling suddenness, so packed were they, one on top of each other. In spite of her eccentricities, Aunt Eleanor had many rich and sincere friends, who were very good to her. The Arnold's come to mind; both the old people came from very wealthy butcher families, and the old lady, Sally, had been an old school friend of Aunt Eleanor. Sally had been presented at Court upon 'coming out', as the fashion was in those days. She was a nice soul as also was her husband Fred. They had an enormous, opulent and rather pretentious house and garden not far from Streatham, with billiard room, ballroom, marble staircase, several bedrooms and bathrooms, servants quarters, tennis courts, etc., plus three luxurious cars. The decorations, fittings and furnishings of the two storey mansion were lavish in the extreme and everything seemed to ooze money. They had several daughters and sons, all expensively educated and mostly married with young children. Mr. & Mrs Knight were also good friends of Aunt Eleanor. He was Court tailor to the Royal Family and the aristocracy and a very rich man. She was a nurse and there were two sons, one of whom was a doctor. Remembrances of a ball, given at the lavish home of a certain Lord - whose name cannot be remembered, but whose peerage was a purchased one and whose status had been acquired through dealings in the meat trade - also come to mind. Aunt Eleanor and myself were invited to attend this function through the Arnolds, at whose house we spent the night. Needless to say, the latter entertained us in right royal fashion, including early morning tea, most beautifully served with dainty slices of bread and butter, all brought in by a white capped, trim little maid.

Poor Aunt Eleanor! She really had a heart of gold. She was short, fairly plump, handsome with the rather Roman shaped nose of the Oughs and with very blue eyes. She loved jewellry and was usually hung around with necklaces, dangling bracelets and earrings of some sort. She wore rather gaudy garments and hats, many of which she concocted herself, often sewing them together in bed with the machine sitting on her knees where, miraculously, it did its work somehow between spasms of going 'walk about' over the bedclothes. She died at the age of 91

There is another amusing incident which took place while my mother and myself were still living in Grenoble, France, after my father's death. While living, both my husband's father and mine were always telling their wives never to have Aunt Eleanor live with them, once the former had passed on. So it was only when my father died that Aunt Eleanor wrote my mother, asking if she could spend a month or so with us in France. While she was with us we took our usual summer holidays at St. Martin, a small village overlooking a fashionable watering spa called Uriage, not far from Grenoble. Aunt Eleanor's French left much to be desired, but she did not mind the amusement it caused the natives, in fact she rather enjoyed being in the lime light. She was good to me and a great help while I was boarding with her at Woodhatch Guest House during my course of secretarial training at Mrs Hoster's in London, at the age of eighteen. We often went to the Shakespeare Season at the Old Vic Theatre and various other entertainments. She was never well off, but managed to live generously on the income of an annuity and the occasional sale of her really lovely paintings of flowers and gardens. R.I.P.

MARION JOAN OUGH 1867- 1. Aunt Marion was a very majestic and nice lady; tall and largely built, and like all the Oughs, fair, blue eyed and handsome. She had a sad life, being engaged for eleven years to Norman Gibson, a civil engineer and son of a ship's captain and a snobbish mother who, fortunately for Aunt Marion, considered that the latter was good enough for her son, the apple of her eye. Norman had five sisters but no brothers and, having been brought up in the lap of luxury, Aunt Marion refused to marry him until they could follow the same life style. Finally the wedding took place and they went to live in a huge, lavishly appointed house near Woolwich Arsenal. The marriage was a happy one, but tragedy struck when both of their little girls died of diphtheria, the elder being only seven and the younger about a year old. When Norman retired they built a small house in Otter/y St. Mary, Devon and lived there until their deaths.

SYDNEY WILLIAM OUGH (1875-1934)  My Father-in-law and Uncle, S.W.Ough was educated at Kings College, London. He was in the Rifle Brigade for a time, but had to resign because of bad eyesight. He studied for the engineering profession and after becoming engaged to the night sister of West Ham Hospital in London, went to Mexico in 1903 to work in the silver mines and here Florence Glanville, my Aunt and Mother-in-law, joined him to be married in Christchurch Anglican Cathedral in Mexico City. He worked at San Luis de la Paz Mining Co. in Guanajuato. For a full account of S.W.Ough see further details in Greenfile "Random Thoughts".

AMY ELIZABETH OUGH f1877-19681. Great Aunt Amy was the youngest of the Ough family and not much is really known about her as she was a bit of a rebel. At twenty one she became Matron of the West Ham Hospital, London and not long after her retirement married Charles White, whose first wife she had nursed through a long and painful illness, after leaving the hospital. The Whites lived in Hastings with a grumpy old cook Harriet, an excitable fox ten:ier and a black cat. There were no children, nor did Uncle Charles have any by his first wife. Great Aunt Amy outlived her husband, reaching the age of ninety one and spending her last days at a retirement home for elderly people. It was through Aunt Amy that my Father-in-law met his future wife, Florence Glanville.

THE DEALYS.

There are no personal memories of my Grandfather, Francis Dealy and his wife Mehitabel [nee Kirkman] and family because I never saw them. The following details have been passed on by relatives, past and present, of the Ough - Dealy connection, and some maybe mere hearsay.

Grandpa Dealy was Irish, born in Dublin. He left Ireland at an early age to seek his fortune in England and Anglicised his surname, Daly by inserting an 'e', changing it to Dealy. He married a fairly wealthy Lincolnshire farmer's daughter of Irish descentl and they had three daughters, two of whom died at an early age, leaving the survivor Ellen Jane, three sons; my father, Thomas Kirkman, William Kirkman [drowned at sea] and Harry Kirkman. Grandpa was a builder and master joiner and wood carver. He was connected with the carving in the library of Arundel Castle, the seat of the Dukes of Norfolk. He was a Roman Catholic, a great monarchist and a loyal anglophile. A tall [6'2"], handsome man with dark curling hair, grey eyes and small pointed beard, he looked from all accounts like a Spanish Conquistador and also had a temper that went with his Irish blood, but at the same time, and according to his daughter-in-law, my mother, was one of nature's most courteous and gallant gentlemen, always full of good humour. He was the most excellent company and even after living in England for more than half his life, never lost his lilting Irish brogue.

Little seems to be known about Grandma Mehitabel. She was said to be quite a beauty when young and used to help the dairy maids churn the cream into butter, on her father's farm. Unfortunately, only one photograph remains of the Dealy family in my possession. According to my father, Grandma was a marvellous cook and he was always smacking his lips over her wonderful roasts of beef with Yorkshire pudding and comparing them with the 'fillet steaks', often drained of all their goodness prepared by our Chinese cook in Hong Kong, before the 'boy' brought them to the table!

The Dealys seem to have lived mostly in Sheffield, where the older children, at any rate, were born. Uncle Harry was a bank accountant for years and his two sons were born in that city, where their descendants probably live to this day. Grandpa Dealy had left a considerable property of houses, built by himself in Sheffield, when he died, which was several years after my grandmother had passed on. Unfortunately,
there was a dispute between my father and Uncle Harry about the inheritance of the property proceeding the death of both grandparents, and the brothers were estranged for years. Finally matters were straightened out through the help of a lawyer-cousin of my father [name not known] and the brothers became reconciled. My mother finally sold her share of the property after my father's death and the affair ended satisfactorily for both the parties concerned.

The other member of interest in my father's family was Aunt Ellen Jane, father's sister. She married a German, who after several years, left her to seek his fortune in Australia with promises of sending for her in due course. While awaiting the summons to proceed overseas, my aunt set up a high class guest house, which she ran successfully for several years - however, Grandpa Dealy in all likelihood, helped her with this? In due course a young lodger arrived at the guest house and Aunt Jane, not having received any further news or money from her German husband for a number of years, concluded that he was dead and finally married the lodger, who was twenty years her junior and had, more than likely, his eye on her considerable income! When my father heard of this disaster he was extremely annoyed, to put it mildly, and warned Aunty that she was an idiot, since the lodger was clearly after her money and anyway, she had no proof that her German husband really was dead! Sure enough, before many months had passed, the 'dead' husband arrived on Aunt Ellen's doorstep, very much alive inde ed!

The consequence was traumatic, for Aunty had become a bigamist!! The final outcome of this is extremely shadowy - which is a pity - since there is no further information available now that all the protagonists have long passed away.

My mother, Anna Margaret Dealy [nee Ough], once she had sold my father's share of Grandpa Dealy's property back to Uncle Harry, closed the connection and must also have returned any photo's, jewellry, etc., regarding that branch of the Dealys, since none were found in her effects after her death in 1970.

The writer never knew anyone member of the Dealy family personally, and the above notes are based on information gathered from time to time during the lifetime of her father, T.K. Dealy, and much can be taken with a grain of salt and as probable here~. My father was not a forgiving man towards those whom he did not like or approve of !