1 Little English country girl

Eliza Brazier Batt (1864–1926) wrote her life story sometime in 1917 or 1918 when she was 53 years old. It focuses primarily on her early life in England before she and her husband accepted the restored gospel, joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and immigrated to America. This is the first of nine installments (see Batt & Lee Ancestors, 1–2). Eliza was the mother of William B Batt (1888–1959) and the grandmother of Dorothy Batt Cleverly (1915–1982).

In the little village of Head­bourne Worthy (in the county of Hamp­shire, near Win­chester, in the south of England) in the year 1864, there lived a hard-working man named James Brazier and his good wife Mary Ann. They worked hard to make ends meet. Their family was large, but both James and Mary Ann were con­tented and happy as each little one came. They both felt they had none to spare.


Mornings were beautiful in the Itchen Val­ley, where flows the beau­ti­ful River Itchen. The green lanes about the village were resplen­dent with wild flowers and trees. In the twilight the night­in­gales would sing, and in the soft, balmy evenings the old church bells would ring out, calling the people to wor­ship. Their silvery tones would peal out to the weary travel­er:

Lord, thy glory fills the heavens;
Earth is with its fulness, filled unto thee.
Be glory given, holy, holy, holy Lord.

One summer's evening, as the bells ceased ringing, a tired looking man came along the street and entered a gate leading to a well-kept garden where hollyhocks grew five and six feet tall, where peace seemed to reign. James, though tired, was cheered by the feeling of peace and the welcome he knew he would re­ceive from Mary Ann in their humble four-room cottage. As he entered the door, Mary Ann met him with a cheerful smile. Taking from him his dinner pail, she asked, "How are you, James? It is such a long way for you to walk. I know you must be tired."

The humble meal was spread in the well-kept kitchen with its red brick floor and wide chimney corners, with the fire dancing up the chim­ney from an open grate, and the cheer­ful sound of the ket­tle singing, and the table spread with a clean white cloth and light bread and golden butter, and the old grand­father clock tick, tick, ticking away in its corner. The little cricket held its own with its merry chirp, chirps, and the window filled with plants—which seemed always to be in bloom—gave a spirit of peace per­vading. As the family par­took of the humble meal, a prayer of thanks arose to the Giver of all for blessings received.

All retired to rest at an early hour, for James worked in the early morning hours caring for the little plot of ground that fur­nished the good house­wife with the best kind of vege­tables.

On 30 August 1864, another daugh­ter came to their humble home. They named me Eliza, after Mother's youngest sister.