Georgiana's childhood home.

Travelling by taxi from the centre of Carlisle to Crosby Lodge was an exciting event in itself! I knew that G must have travelled the same road so many times by horse and carriage. After about a 30 minute drive, we arrived at the place where Georgiana spent most of her childhood. Her family having spent a few years living in the town of Carlisle, moved to the house built for them by her maternal grandfather. The house has changed quite a bit since those days. It is much larger having had a round turret added on each side and castellations along the roof line. The barn on one side and the kitchens on the other are also now part of the main house.




It was early evening, still light and very quiet in the heart of the countryside, with cows grazing behind the house and blackbirds singing in the beautiful gardens. Mike took some photographs outside to catch the light while Patricia Sedgewick, the current owner, very kindly began showing me around the house. It was thrilling to walk the rooms and corridors that G lived in, to look out of the windows at the views she must have known and loved and to stand by the fire that warmed her on cold, English winter evenings. Most of all, I felt close to her when I walked in the garden and looked out to where the drive probably once wound up to the house.

An old gate leads to the fields at the back of the house – once the front. Georgiana’s presence there was strong, as it was in the walled garden where servants once gathered fruit, vegetables and herbs for the kitchens. Mrs Sedgewick very kindly unlocked the garden and we saw how beautifully she has restored it. I told her that G would be thrilled to see it!
photo of old gate

Mr and Mrs Sedgewick have spared no expense in restoring the house to its former glory and it is now an exquisite hotel listed by the prestigious Johannson’s guide. The soft furnishings and carpets in particular are as authentic as possible and quite beautiful. We talked a lot about the house and about G in particular. It was wonderful to be able to leave a special gift for Patricia to thank her for her kindness on an evening when the hotel was busy - and to make a link between Crosby Lodge and Western Australia.

I gave her the book that Jennifer had sent for her – a copy of Pat Negus and Jane Scott’s beautiful book of the indigenous flowers of the region where Georgiana made her home. I was about to tell Patricia that it was extra special because it is dedicated to G but emotion took over too much so that Mike stepped in to finish the sentence for me – not for the first time during our trip!

I felt so sad when we had to say goodbye, travelling the road that G would have used when she left to move to Rugby. No wonder she didn’t settle there. Crosby Lodge is a still, serene place and I didn’t want to leave either. A big thank you to Mr and Mrs Sedgewick for taking such great care of a wonderful house.

Bernice in Abbey St, Carlisle

At lunchtime I went straight to Abbey Street. I didn’t use a map but my feet took me there. Maybe someone was helping me! All the houses looked just as they would have been when little two year old Georgiana toddled along there holding her mother’s hand. Things haven’t changed much since the 19th Century.

The stone sets are still the original ones that her tiny feet must have walked on, on the way to the market square just around the corner. Abbey Street nestles literally in the shadow of the great cathedral so the sound of the choir singing and the bells must have been part of the everyday sounds for G and her family in those early days before they moved into their new home at Crosby Lodge.

The street is one of the oldest in the city and is the joining walkway from the castle to the cathedral. There’s a noisy new dual carriageway at the bottom of the street now that separates it from the castle but in the 1800s there would have been nothing but a grassy dip where the moat once was. So tiny G had a huge Norman castle on one side of her house, a great cathedral on the other and the busy centre of a market town just around the corner.

I walked around to the back of the houses to see what was the fourth side of the square for little Georgiana in her earliest environment. I found an amazing view out over the city and onto the wild, beautiful moors and fells of Cumbria. Time to return to the CRO for more research but it occurred to me that, until she was about three, Georgiana’s young life was tightly encircled by religion, history, culture, power, commerce and some of the most beautiful scenery in England.

The archivists at the CRO haven’t been able to find out which house belonged to the Kennedy family. I took photographs of every house just in case!

The excitement certainly isn’t over yet. We’ve been invited to Crosby Lodge this evening to meet Patricia Sedgewick who owns the house that was originally built for the young Mr and Mrs Kennedy by Georgiana’s grandmother , who lived at the much grander Crosby House. I’m actually going to the house where Georgiana lived as a child and a young woman. More later from me!

CARLISLE CASTLE

Bernice to Carlisle

I’ve been staying in the UK for more than a month now and with the chance to spend four days in the North of England and Scotland, I travelled up to Cumbria by train to meet my husband Mike there after he had finished work at a conference in Carlisle. We had a long weekend free so we planned to continue the research that Jennifer Gherardi and I had started there when we visited in March 2006. The old county of Cumberland, where Georgiana Molloy lived as a child, forms part of Cumbria now. Carlisle is the ancient market town where she was born. It has a beautiful cathedral that was standing at the heart of a famous abbey long before G was there.

Day One
Arrived at Carlisle late last night and could hardly wait to get to the Cumbria Records Office this morning. Mike is running a conference here so the day has been mine and of course I was there as they opened the doors! The walk through town was interesting – if you just look up above the shop fronts, most of the buildings are still the same as they were in Georgiana’s day and the huge Market Square is still a busy, bustling place. Here it is in 2007.



The staff at the CRO were as helpful and amazing as before – they even knew the reference number for the Kennedy family archive without having to look it up. I was soon poring over Georgiana’s own letters and trying again to read some of the more tricky cross-writing using the magnifying glass I had brought with me from London. There’s something wonderful about opening those old, folded documents just as they were opened by their first, intended reader in the 1820’s.

After three hours I was a bit the worse for wear but something caught my eye. Jennifer and I had seen the seals on the old letters many times, at the CRO last year and on the digital images of them at home in WA. But I noticed that one of the seals was quite intact – usually they break when the letter is opened. I just wondered if I could find out what kind of picture G had chosen for her own special emblem on every letter she sent. I lifted the magnifying glass to the letter and looked carefully. The thrill of discovery – and the feeling of closeness to Georgiana – were both huge. The image on her little red seal is the dove of peace with an olive branch in its mouth. Typical of her. I smiled to myself, all alone in that big, quiet, dusty old room - but then I realised something else that sent a chill down my spine. The image is identical to the logo for JAG Films, Jennifer’s film production company. I wanted to tell her right away so I sent a text then and there from the CRO. It seemed the only thing to do when I wasn’t allowed to shout at the other researchers about what I’d just found!

Here’ a photo but the quality is too poor to see it properly. I’m planning to enlist the help of the CRO to see if they can find a way of getting a better photograph for us so watch this space.



Compare it with this much larger and more macho seal, John Molloy’s I think. I couldn’t quite read the letters on it when I was there – perhaps someone else can go and take another look to find out?


The CRO closed for lunch for an hour so I had to go for a walk in the rain. I’d worked out from some other papers that Georgiana’s parents were living in a place called Abbey Street when G was born so I decided to see if I could find it over lunchtime – being far too excited already to eat. It was certainly a lunch hour to remember. More about that next time!

Bernice Barry