File:Thomas Solley and his descendants - the story of a hunt for an ancestor (1911) (14592064659).jpg

Identifier: thomassolleyhisd1911soll (find matches)
Title: Thomas Solley and his descendants : the story of a hunt for an ancestor
Year: 1911 (1910s)
Authors: Solley, George Willis
Subjects: Solley family
Publisher: (Fitchburg, Mass.) : E.J. Morgan
Contributing Library: Boston Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston Public Library

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on. The country seemedmore forlorn than when I first visited it, and arriving at thetop of Georges Hill, it was again with some difficulty thatwe found the little forgotten graveyard, which had againgrown up to bushes and trees. Leaving the automobile tocool, we clambered through the bushes to the grave of ThomasSolley and Melinda Landers, which we decorated with theflowers which we had gathered along our journey. The view from Georges Hill is quite an open one. Theland there is so good it has never ceased to be farmed, soit has not grown up to a wilderness, as so much of the countryin that region has. The view from the old church corner isunrivaled. One looks for miles as far as the eye can reach,over a most diversified country of hills and valleys andmountain ranges, piled one against another until they reachthe sky. They seem to rest there under the sunlight, waitingto be discovered. I have travelled New England all over,and have never seen a more extended or beautiful view any- 34
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HIS DESCENDANTS where, outside of the Connecticut River valley from MountsTom and Holyoke, in Massachusetts. If one approachesGeorges Hill from the Southbury side, the roads are not sodifficult, or so rough, or so steep; and it was probably at firstsettled from that point. As it is, it is only waiting to be dis-covered by the lovers of nature, who are now going back tothe soil, and then it will become all that our ancestors ex-pected when they settled upon its height, almost a centuryago. From Georges Hill we went to South Britain, whitherour ancestors years before us had gone, and taken the villagewith them. Here we visited my cousin, Arthur D. Munson,and his most hospitable wife, who, at a very short notice,had us seated at a table laden with good things. Then wedescended to the Housatonic valley, where we crossed theriver and mounted the hills toward Newtown. We had had a busy day, and now we headed the automobiletowards home, intending to reach Bridgeport by way of New-town. As we

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