Piddingworth Greg Benton |
| ROSE WEST LEONARD |
| Rosie West Leonard is my dear grandmother whose inspiration has permitted me to chose the name of "Piddingworth" for my home, renewed life and website. My great-grandfather, George Ambrose West, of Plumpton, on the 16th of December 1883, married Sarah Ann Harris of Hurspierpoint. They lived in the old, stone cottage on the farm north of the village of Stanmer, off the Ditchling Road in Sussex. This house was named "Piddingworth". As servants of the Earl of Chichester, they cared for the stock of cattle and sheep. Indeed, it is probable that George Ambrose was very last 'Ox-man' in England. They had six children, Annie Louisa, Joseph, George, John, Rose and Minnie Catharine. Rosie was a perfect name for this little girl who became my grandmother, for she was in every way an "English Rose"; lovely, gentle, and sweet... with great inner strength. Rosie grew up in Piddingworth and, with her brothers and sisters, helped her mother and father with the chores. She would later walk the several miles each day to attend school in the village of Falmer, near Stanmer. Baptised in St. Michael's Church, Plumpton, Rosie was later confirmed by the Bishop of Chichester and received her first holy communion in the Chapel at Stanmer. She and her family would also worship in lovely St. Laurence Church in Falmer. The Wests were a family of deep Christian faith and Rosie, as a young lady, was admitted to the "Girls Friendly Society" whose object was to bring together young women and girls who committed themselves to such religious and social virtues as "purity of life, dutifulness to parents, faithfulness to employers, temperance and thrift". Life was not easy for the Wests. Though rich in faith, they had little of material substance and suffered from tragedy and misfortune. In a terrible blow, George was blinded by an accident while farming and thereafter had to rely upon his wife and children to keep the family home. Rosie went into service for the Pelham family, the Earl of Chichester, as a maid in the great 18th c. manor house at Stanmer where, surrounded by great wealth and privilege, she dutifully cared for the linens and silver and, as one would expect of her, performed them humbly and faithfully. One day, Rosie contracted a bad ear infection and went to see a physician in Brighton to have it cared for. Sadly, whatever treatment she was administered resulted in her becoming deaf, mostly in one ear but partially in the other as well. The adjustment to being hard of hearing was difficult and Rosie had to learn to live with this handicap for the rest of her life. But illness was not a stranger to the Wests, as the Rev. Canon Bickersteth, the parish priest, wrote in his notice of the death of Sarah Ann in 1915, at the age of 51: "I have been in that home in times of sorrow and joy during 14 years, more often in days of trouble, for she and her family have had much suffering and illness." In this day and age, with all our technology and other health and social benefits in life, it is difficult to imagine the kind of hardship and suffering then endured by poor, simple, working people for whom every day seemed a victory of some sort. Is it a luxury to have good health and the comfort of a close and loving family? Rosie's life took a dramatic turn in the year 1919 following the first world war. At the age of 24, she and a friend worked a "fish and chips" in the town of Bexhill-on-sea up the coast from Brighton. It was there that she met the handsome Ernest Leonard, a soldier from Plymouth, Devon, serving with the Canadian Corps, and, having been wounded in battle, was recovering in the nearby army hospital. Strolling along the boardwalk and up to the fish and chips, his eyes met hers. Each became smitten with the other while, no doubt, he told her about his family and of beautiful Devon; his football, and how he had played for Torquay United who had won a championship in 1909 and then had travelled to Canada where he and other ex-pats from Devon played with "The Devonians" in Toronto. He invited her to meet his parents, James and Lydia Leonard, at the family home in Peverell in Plymouth and introduced her to another boardwalk at Plymouth Hoe. Rosie saw that Ernie came from a large family. His father was a noted merchant and lay preacher in the Methodist Church He had two brothers, Edward and Emmanel, and five sisters, Georgina, May, Bertha, Blanche and baby sister Olive to whom he was particularly close. It was 1919, however, and with the war over and his wounds healed, Ernie had to return to Canada to be discharged from the army. It is not surprising that he chose to stay in Toronto where two of his sisters had also settled and where he had chums from the Devonian Football Club. He asked Rose to marry him and go to Canada to make a new life. On 16 December 1919, she took the train from Falmer and boarded the "Tunisian" from Southhampton on and arrived in St. John, New Brunswick on 27 December. From there, she took the train to Toronto and rejoined Ernie. They married and took up residence in Toronto. Ernie and Rose had four children: Raymond, Margaret (my mother), Olive and Mary. Like everyone else, they lived through the Great Depression when work and money was scarce. There were not the social benefits that so many take for granted today; no unemployment insurance, welfare, baby bonuses, national health care, and the like. It was a time when family and neighbours cared for each other and needed to. Still, it is said that Rose always kept a beautiful house, clean and dignified, and that Sunday dinner, though carefully meted out, was always enough for the family. Rose was a loving, generous mother and a favourite auntie to her nieces and nephews; some of whom lived nearby. During the second world war, Rose prayed for her son, Ray, as he left in 1939 with the Royal Regiment of Canada. By a strange twist of fate, prior to the Normandy invasion, the Royal Regiment was stationed near the Stanmer Farm and not far from Piddingworth which was then empty following the deaths of his grandparents. It was during military exercises in 1944 that the house was shelled and remains in ruin to this day. Having been shot in the Battle of Falaise in France, 1944, Ray returned home to his family severely wounded in the chest and without his left hand; his life spared by the heroic physicians and nurses at the British Army Military Hospital. In the post-war years, Rose saw her children marry and have families. She has ten grandchildren that she was able to know, many great-grandchildren, and now one-great-great grandchild, whom she is now able to see by Hope and Grace. Rosie died and entered into the eternal rest of God's loving embrace at the young age of 62 in the summer of 1957. My memories of Nana Rose are from about 1952 or so. She was so warm and soft and gentle. She would often take care of my brothers and me and lovingly scrub our cheeks and behind our ears and give even the occasional spanking! I recall her as a boy when, as she held me close, she was in the kitchen chatting with my mum; tea, toast, those little fruit & nut cakes smothered in butter, and especially the aroma and taste of her Sunday roast beef dinners. But it is especially as I learned more about her life and visited Piddingworth, Stanmer and Falmer, that I have realised the great gifts that she possessed and the legacy she has left to those, like me, who have come to learn, even this late some, of the great lessons of life. In a world of so much selfishness, silly ambition, phoniness, noisy and clanging voices, Rose was the face of whispered virtue. She held no degrees, honours, medals or lofty position. Her faith was strong, deeply personal and practiced in a quiet manner; the foundation from which she conducted her life. Her treasure was in her heart; of love and forgiveness. A servant and a lady. Well-acquainted with illness, grief and tragedy from her youth, she embodied love, faith and hope, lived with dignity, courage and endurance, and of "good cheer" in the face of adversity. She gave all she had to her husband and children; supported them, prayed for them and cherished them. She, though she had little, was rich in the poverty of spirit and true humility. Rose lived what General Georges Vanier, the late great and saintly Governor-General described as "strength through weakness". All these virtues she acquired as a farmer's daughter at Piddingworth; from her dear long-suffering mother Sarah, her poor blinded father, George, and the riches of grace in the ancient and deep faith of the Church. Although the house is now a ruin and the fields of Piddingworth once used for MotoCross motorcycle racing, it remains a symbol to me of my grandmother and family, of the things that are truly important in life and a heritage that is beyond price; of warmth with family and friends; of prayer and the love of God; the preciousness of life; of duty and the strength to endure; of Home on earth and in heaven. When I came upon this house and farm in Clarington, the hills and fields reminded me so much of Sussex and of Stanmer farm that I chose to name the house "Piddingworth" and, if 'home is where the heart is' then, Piddingworth is, there and here, through my grandmother's life and love, my home. |