Very little is known about George Grey. He is mentioned in one of his brother John's letters in 1816.
" Milfield Hill. I was on the far hill this morning before sunrise, and not within doors again till six this evening. George came here early on Saturday morning, and we rode together to West Ord, where he boated across the river, and went to see his sheep and cattle on turnips on the other side, while I took advantage of the delightful day to mark off the new fences and plantations that are to be done this season. Philip has had hard work to bring the ‘Unity’ sloop to her moorings. She is now tied with cables to the plantation below the house, and I have let her to some men to take to pieces. They had to caulk her to keep out the water, and then fix a row of empty casks along each side to make her float over the shallows. After all she grounded often, and took three tides, and the help of both men and horses to get her home. I suppose there never was so large a vessel as high up the Tweed, and perhaps none whose voyage excited so much observation and amusement since the days when St. Cuthbert’s Stone boat scudded up the tide. I had two offers for my fishing on Saturday- one of £100 and another of £150- but have not resolved to take either. It is poor doing; but these industrious Dutchmen send so many fish to our markets now, that they are little worth” Memoir of John Grey of Dilston by Josephine Butler, 1874, page 28.
George Grey of Sandyhouse and Milfield Hill, & Woodcot.
Born 28 June 1790 at Milfield, Married Jane Trotter Gregson on 22 March 1813 at St Cuthberts in Edinburgh, Died 7 Oct 1824 at Woodcot, Surrey at the age of 34 of a broken leg.
"He was fair-haired, with sweet hazel eyes, and a countenance full of candour. He was of a generous, affectionate, and winning nature, but sometimes careless and wayward, and deep in his heart, perhaps, there lay hid some sorrow which was the key to the discordance." Josephine Butler's memoir of her father. p.77
The grave of Jane Grey with her sister and mother.
"Sacred to the memory of Elizabeth widow of the late John Gregson of Warkworth. Who departed this life on the 8th of June 1842 aged 83 years. Also in memory of Jane Trotter second daughter of the above and widow of George Grey Esq of Sandyhouse Northumberland who departed this life on 27th day of February 1872 in her 88th year. And also in memory of Elizabeth third daughter of the above and widow of George Darling Esq of Embleton who departed this life on the 7th day of November 1881 in her 96th year."
Jane's father John Gregson is said to be of Belchester on the Milfield family tree but of Warkworth on his wife's grave. Belchester farm is north west of Coldstream. His daughters were born in Kyloe. Trotter is also the name of James Grey of Sunderland's wife. James was George's first cousin once removed. His wife Helen Trotter was born in Kelso so there may be a link.
Extract from letter by Hannah Grey to her son George Annett Grey from Dilston 20th and 22nd Jany 1838 Sat.y & Monday "Papa bro.t such a splendid waistcoat for you ?worked by ?Mrs Darling, it is beautiful flowers embroidered on scarlet, when will you wear it! I sent the little darlings some ?dissected ?picture scraps & toys by Papa."
There is a Reassignment document from Milfield Hill held at the Berwick archives NRO 496 - Grey of Milfield "John Grey Esq and the Revd Thomas Knight by the direction of Mary Norris to William Lowrey Esq. Assignment of Trust Monies in Mrs Norris' marriage -- Settlement In Trust to reassign to Mr Knight and R. P. Beddeck Esq. Dated 25th Jany 1844 Mr Lowrey to Mr Knight and Mr Beddeck."
It contains references to Thomas Knight of Ford Rectory, Richard Beddeck of Tweedmouth, William Lowrey of Barmoor, and refers to an agreement between Edward Gregson, Mary Norris, John Grey of Milfield Hill and Thomas Knight. Also mentioned is a settlement by David Pratt on Mary, Anthony, John the younger and Thomas Gregson dated 1777 for large sums of money if Mary married him, which she did.
Wm Lowrey was a gentleman landowner in Bowsdon (but lived in Barmoor) and was listed as such in Whellans Directory of 1855. Also a John Lowrey was listed as a Land Agent.
John Gregson, who made his fortune from his innovative farm husbandry , was the first to buy half of the property which was called Lowlinn. He was a tenant of Sunnilaws as was his father before him - Anthony (1655-1711). Anthony had moved from Co. Durham where the Gregsons lived in Murton, to start farming in Sunnilaws nr. Carham. His marriage to Jane Robson is dated 1689. His tenancy must have started about 1680-85. Anthony had a brother Thomas (who it is said was of also of Sunnilaws) and two sisters Elizabeth and Mary who married Forsters. His son John (b.1691) carried on the tenancy. It is also said of John that he was of Learmouth and Wark. There is a tenancy agreement between Thomas and Sir Henry Grey and with Anthony the younger. John had the following children: His eldest Anthony (1720-1806) (who purchased the second half of Lowlinn), Edward of Stonerigg, John, Thomas and five daughters viz Frances, Jane, Mary, Margaret, Jean. John was said to be of Moneylaws and died a bachelor. Mary (d 1798) and Jane (1795) Margaret (d1751) all died at Moneylaws as spinsters. No marriages are named for them. They are buried at Cornhill. Frances married a J. Wood. On a Gregson pedigree by Hodgson held by the Northumberland archives, nothing is said of a Jean other than she was born in 1727.
Thanks to Valerie Edwards for the above information.
George Grey's death from Josephine Butler’s book on her father: Memoir of John Grey of Dilston.pps 77-78
"But the autumn fell clouded with sorrow. My father's brother George was beloved by all who knew him. He was fair-haired, with sweet hazel eyes, and a countenance full of candour. He was of a generous, affectionate, and winning nature, but sometimes careless and wayward, and deep in his heart, perhaps, there lay hid some sorrow which was the key to the discordance. In the month of October, his brother received the following letter from a friend in London ; it was the sequel of an announcement despatched about the same time that George had been thrown from his horse or carriage : —
"My dear Friend, — Your brother's increased illness presses me to write to urge you to be here as soon as possible. I only heard of the accident by mere chance on Saturday afternoon, and I thought by the answer to my inquiries that all danger was past, and was therefore the less prepared for the intelligence of yesterday. "I will go out again this evening and do all I can — would it were a thousand-fold increased — to supply your place till you arrive. He has every attention. " God grant His blessing to him and all of us with this dispensation ! How true it is that our present lives are but shadows, of which the enduring substance is beyond the grave. — You know how much you are loved by your affectionate friend, Robert Selby. P.S. — Ten minutes before five. His struggles have ceased exactly an hour. I cannot say more." *
The bitterness of grief conveyed by this short postscript may not be told. My father had been to Edinburgh, and was returning by coach. They met the coach going the other way. The one guard whispered to the other that George Grey was dead. He did not know the meaning of the grave look and shaken head until he reached Kelso, where he learned the tidings. He restrained himself in the presence of his mother, that he might not add to her grief, but when she left him he flung himself on a sofa, and beat his breast, and cried out in a voice of woe, " O my Benjamin, my Benjamin ! " He was usually very restrained in the expression of his feelings. He took a tended leave of his mother, with words as brave as might be, and hurried to London. The journey was long in those old coaching days, and his feelings were bitter. He wrote to his wife on his arrival: —
“WOODCOT, Wednesday, Oct 20, 1824. " My dearest Hannah, — I wish I could at this moment press you to my heart, and mingle my tears with yours, instead of claiming only the cold sympathy of 300 or 400 miles' distance. O what a dreadful thing is death ! how summary and imperative in his call — how undeniable his demands — what a breaking up of all our cherished ties and connections in those that are left — and what a journey to an unseen world for those that are taken ! What enjoyment should I have had in a visit to this place, had the dear active form which is ever present to my mind's eye, and the blithe countenance that was ever the index of the kind heart, been here to animate the now deathlike, desolate scene ! I always loved my dear George, but I think now I love him a hundred times more — for I did not know how deep a hold I had of his affections and esteem ; the mention he made of me in his intervals of suffering are most touching to my heart, and at every recurrence to them fill my soul with sorrow and my eyes with tears. ‘ His poor mother and his dear brother,’ were often on his lips, and the last articulate words he spoke, were ‘ O my John, my dear, dear brother.’ I have many affecting things to tell you of him, which I cannot endure to do now, or I should not get through this letter, but one thing I must say : Isaac was the only person about who could endure the watching and the evidence of the pain he suffered when the spasms affected him, and yet show him the tenderness of a brother. R. Hook was taken one night to let Isaac rest, but he fainted and was carried out — it being necessary to hold the leg hard whilst the spasms lasted. Isaac tells me that he was much engaged, he thought, in secret prayer, and sometimes would utter ejaculations half aloud, though not intending them to be heard. On the day before the last of his dear life, he said when alone with Isaac, and after some minutes of composure, which was not sleep, ‘ Isaac, it will soon be over with me now.' ‘O sir, I hope you may yet enjoy many happy days ' (for such was the language the doctors held to every one till the very last day). ‘ Yes,' he said, ‘ I do hope for brighter days than I used ever to think of,' and he fell again into a quiet frame. How fruitless are our regrets — had I known at the time the fatal accident happened, and been with him at the earliest day, I might never have been allowed to converse with him, for the doctors did not wish me to come — ‘ That brother he speaks so much of must not come, composure is everything ; ' they spoke of certain nerves being wounded that caused great irritability and pain, and evidently from the first considered amputation necessary, if his constitution could be reduced to a fit state."