Jessie Loughran Butcher
The grandparents of the Anglo Indian Writer came from four different countries, Ireland, Russia, England and India. The latter two were disowned and disinherited by their families, the English man when he married a Hindu girl, and the girl who was put out of her caste and religion because she married an English Christian. The story tells of the union of couples from several generations spanning a period of one hundred or more years. It tells of the effect of the British Raj during the early part of the twentieth century , the ripples of which can be seen today.
It tells of interesting anecdotes during her career, ranging from an honour conferred on her during her visit to a Hindu Temple in India, to the work she did with leprosy sufferers in the poorest parts of the world. It is a true story. She is seen in the inside dust cover with one of her grandsons, the colour difference being noticeable.
Jessie Loughran Butcher was born in Nagpur India in nineteen thirty eight. She was educated in a prestigious English boarding school in the foothills of the Himalayas. She currently lives with her English husband of fifty years in Blackburn, Lancashire England.
In her varied career she has been a P.A to a Jewish factory owner, a hill farmer in the Pennines , West Yorkshire and a Justice of the Peace. Her career highlight was as North West Area Manager for a Leprosy Charity. However, Jessie has been heard to say , "her three children are her life's work." She is a hands on Grandma who frequently visits her family in Canada, and her sister's family in Australia. This is her first book. The inside dust cover picture at the rear of the book was taken forty years ago and is the home page on her husband's computer.
Chapter 1.
Four hundred year old portrait.
A tall, handsome, middle aged man, immaculately dressed entered the stately home belonging to the Heritage. By his side walked an equally tall and eye catching middle aged woman. Both had suntanned complexions, rather more sun tanned than if there was no inherent pigmentation to begin with. They walked with aristocratic dignity, shoulders back and with strong confident footsteps.
They paid the £4. entrance fee required and were warmly welcomed by an elderly woman who asked them to sign the visitors book. The building was a magnificent piece of British architecture, constructed of grey stone with arched windows and entrance doors, it stood in the centre of a manicured lawn which was scattered about with a few large specimen trees. Around the building and framing it, to add to its air of wealth and dignity, was an ancient creeper. It was a splendid house.
There were no other visitors there at the time, so the old woman gave the couple her entire attention. The great castle doors opened into a dark entrance lobby, there were no windows to let in the spring sunshine. She closed and locked the doors behind her.
“This is my sister” said the man, “I am the eldest son of a family that has particular interest in this place”. She said nothing. “She is the youngest daughter of the family”. The old woman eyed the man and woman up and down, with interest..
She proceeded to lead the way into a large and richly decorated hall. Huge paintings hung from every available space on the wooden panelled walls, the ceiling looked as if it could reach to the sky. Banners and pennants hung from poles that protruded over doors.
“These pictures are all wired and alarmed” she said. “We had to sell many of them half a century ago to pay for the restoration of the building. The remaining ones are wired against burglary.” The visiting couple walked in silence, gazing in awe at what might have been theirs some day. “Do you live here” asked the woman, “Are you related to the family?”
“I am the widow of the last surviving member of the family, my husband died many years ago, we never had any children. I myself am an Italian, a professional musician in my youth, we continued to live in Italy until my husband’s death. The building remained in the care of the keepers and still is, although my husband made it over to the Heritage. The brother and sister listened intently.
They left the vast entrance hall and entered the library. There were many valuable pieces of porcelain amo
