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This Message from the Cornish Gen List may be of interest to researchers.
Questions of Birth:
It was legal for girls to marry at the age of 12 and boys 14 until 1929
when it was changed to 16 for both. However not many did so.
In early times the girl was made pregnant before the marriage to ensure
that she could produce an heir.
Children born out of wedlock were not looked down on until the latter part
of the 1800s and really it was the first half of the1900s when there was so
much hypocriscy.
Many children were raised by grand parents as their own and where proof of
a father cannot be found beyond doubt one has to forget that line.
Not many women had children after 25 years of marriage and any lady over 50
is not likely to have a child and one should look very carefully for proof
of anyone over 46-7 bearing their own child.
To find proof of the father after 1 July 1837 try the GRO index or
christening register.
Before 1837 the Parish Poor Law has many records in Bastardy Bonds
and Filiation Orders.
Everybody should remember also that it has been proved that about 10% of
children were not the child of their mother's husband at the time and this
will not be known by most.
__________________________________________________________________________
Best wishes and Happy New Year,
Ron in Hong Kong, China
__________________________________________________________________________
Here is a New Year Gift for you all,
Best wishes, Ron in Hong Kong, China
Subject: 1901 UK Census online from January 2, 2002
At 9am UK time January 2, 2002 ... the 1901
England & Wales census becomes available online.
http://www.census.pro.gov.uk/
__________________________________________________________________
The Younger Son
If you leave the gloom of London and you seek a glowing land,
Where all except the flag is strange and new,
There's a bronzed and stalwart fellow who will grip you by the hand,
And greet you with a welcome warm and true;
For he's your younger brother, the one you sent away
Because there wasn't room for him at home;
And now he's quite contented, and he's glad he didn't stay,
And he's building Britain's greatness o'er the foam.
When the giant herd is moving at the rising of the sun,
And the prairie is lit with rose and gold,
And the camp is all abustle, and the busy day's begun,
He leaps into the saddle sure and bold.
Through the round of heat and hurry, through the racket and the rout,
He rattles at a pace that nothing mars;
And when the night-winds whisper and camp-fires flicker out,
He is sleeping like a child beneath the stars.
When the wattle-blooms are drooping in the sombre she-oak glade,
And the breathless land is lying in a swoon,
He leaves his work a moment, leaning lightly on his spade,
And he hears the bell-bird chime the Austral noon.
The parrakeets are silent in the gum-tree by the creek;
The ferny grove is sunshine-steeped and still;
But the dew will gem the myrtle in the twilight ere he seek
His little lonely cabin on the hill.
Around the purple, vine-clad slope the argent river dreams;
The roses almost hide the house from view;
A snow-peak of the Winterberg in crimson splendor gleams;
The shadow deepens down on the karroo.
He seeks the lily-scented dusk beneath the orange tree;
His pipe in silence glows and fades and glows;
And then two little maids come out and climb upon his knee,
And one is like the lily, one the rose.
He sees his white sheep dapple o'er the green New Zealand plain,
And where Vancouver's shaggy ramparts frown,
When the sunlight threads the pine-gloom he is fighting might and main
To clinch the rivets of an Empire down.
You will find him toiling, toiling, in the south or in the west,
A child of nature, fearless, frank, and free;
And the warmest heart that beats for you is beating in his breast,
And he sends you loyal greeting o'er the sea.
You've a brother in the army, you've another in the Church;
One of you is a diplomatic swell;
You've had the pick of everything and left him in the lurch,
And yet I think he's doing very well.
I'm sure his life is happy, and he doesn't envy yours;
I know he loves the land his pluck has won;
And I fancy in the years unborn, while England's fame endures,
She will come to bless with pride -- The Younger Son.
Robert Service
_________________________________________________________________________
Please note that the Links to the CLIBBORN web-site on MSN have been
changed as shown below.
These will be included as Tag Lines in rotation in messages on this List.
1.
The CLIBBORN Family tree may be found directly at the following URL:
http://worldconnect.rootsweb.com/cgi-bin/igm.cgi?db=Clibborn&I11.x=31&I11...
2.
For James Clibborn go to:
http://communities.msn.com/ClibbornFamily/jamesclibborn39sfamily.msnw
3.
For Arthur Sydney Clibborn - later Booth-Clibborn go to:
http://communities.msn.com/ClibbornFamily/yourwebpage.msnw
4.
For Percy James Clibborn go to:
http://communities.msn.com/ClibbornFamily/percyjames.msnw
5.
For a 1913 Picture of Ann Murray Clibborn with husband and son go to:
http://communities.msn.com/ClibbornFamily/jamesclibborn.msnw
_______________________________________________________________________
Compliments of the Season to all our CLIBBORN cousins and researchers.
Your Name
You got it from your father,
It was all he had to give,
So its yours to use and cherish,
For as long as you may live.
If you loose the watch he gave you,
It can always be replaced,
But a black mark on your name son,
Can never be erased.
It was clean the day you took it,
And a worthy name to bear,
When he got it from his father,
There was no dishoner there.
So be sure you guard it wisely,
After all is said and done,
You'll be glad the name is spotless,
When you give it to your son.
Anonymous