In this letter, John Man of Reading writes to his brother James to describe the search he made to discover their father's whereabouts and what he discovered had happened to their father after he had disappeared.

July 12th 1787

Now my dear James our search is over - I am just arrived at Newport after a very dangerous passage and a disagreeable wet journey of 15 miles in a Post Chaise from the Black Rock where we landed. As soon as I got over I ask’d the waiter at the Inn if he knew Mr.__. After some recollection he said he remembered such a person about a twelve month past being at Chepstow. I was so elated at the news that I immediately ordered a chaise for this place.

It being set for rain how did I please myself with the hope that in a few   days, if not a few hours I should take the poor wanderer by the hand, but we are born for disappointments and must submit. My landlady a very communicative old woman has just brought me in my Salmon. I put the question to her. Yes sure do I, Never never was there a better man on the Earth, many a time have I converse with him, a sober, honest, quiet, humane, good natured, worthy man as ever lived. Gentle and simple, all loved him in this country. Where did he live? At Cardiff for many years and was reckoned a very ingenious Architect and was employed and respected by all the Gentlemen. Do you know where he is now? In a better place I hope. What! Is he dead? Yes, poor man he died about three years ago and is buried at Cardiff but I don’t hear he has left any children. Such was the dialogue between the old woman and myself which so affected me that I could ask no more questions - how happy would it have been if we had set about this enquiry sooner it is now too late, however as I am within 12 miles of Cardiff, if tomorrow is fine, I will shed one tear over his grave. I forgot to tell you she described him so minutely, even to his dress that there can be no doubt of his being the person we want, my hand shakes so I can hardly write and the pen is such a stump it is past mending, however if you can read it it is enough. As the post don’t go from this place ‘till tomorrow evening, I shall not send this away ‘till I have been at Cardiff.

Wednesday evening.

Cardiff July 12. 87

I told you last night I intended going to Cardiff this morning. It was cloudy when I got up, but on the strength of a N. W. wind I set out about 8 o’clock and had a very pleasant walk. Almost all the way in sight of King Road and the Shiping, at 12 I got safe here - my first object was to visit the church yard which I did without success. I then enquired of a little girl where the Sexton dwelt, but her direction was so obscure I could not find him, so I looked about for an Inn and with difficulty found that I am now in for notwithstanding Mr Carey’s description of this place I see little difference between this and the other towns in Wales. Having ordered a lamb chop for my dinner I began my enquiry with my landlady who could give me no other information than that she knew such a person, that he died about 4 years ago and was buried by a  Mr. Priest who was a principal creditor and took to all his effects. As she could give me no other information except that Mr. Priest too was since dead, I beg’d a direction to the Sexton. She said the Clerk was the properest person to enquire of so I went to him. The man was very civil told me the Parson had taken the register out of his hands, but if I pleased he would go with me to him. I asked him if he knew the person? He said very well. I told him I was sorry not to see any stone over him in the church yard. He said he was sure there was one and went with me to shew me where I found a black slatey stone laid upon which he informed me had been used before for the same purpose and the old writing partly erased on this was written --- Here lieth the body of Thomas Roberts of this town Architect who departed this life April 7th 1783 aged 70 years. On our return I asked him where he had lodged. He said he had a house to himself. Who was his housekeeper? A Mrs Page. Was she living? He could not tell, but if she was, it was at the farther end of the town. There I went and seeing an old woman at a little Public House door, I asked for Mrs Page. She was gone from those parts she knew not where but would ask her daughter who informed me I might hear of her at Robert Francis, Plumber, at Bristol. I told her my business. She said she knew Mr. R. very well, that he lived at the opposite house [ a large handsome one, for the country ] had always paid his men [ the old woman said he had always walked with God ] that she sat up with him a week before he died and was with him when he died, that he was not ill to keep his bed more than a week, was very composed and calm and died without a groan. That Mr. & Mrs. Page had lived with him long, he as his foreman she his housekeeper, that he never had any wife, that Mr Page died before him after which he kept his house about 3 years. That he never was distressed but had always been imposed upon by the villains who worked for him, that he left what he had, when all his debts were paid, to Mrs Page but that Mr Priest had taken all and the old woman was never the better. That she never heard him say anything about his family (but heard from Mrs Page he often talked of a son he had [ Oh James, that cursed letter broke his heart, but say nothing to Harry about it for I sure he never meant it ] as this is all information I am likely to get here I shall set off immediately on my return to Bristol and if I can see Mrs Page I will give you another letter from Reading. This melancholy business so distresses me I hardly know what I write as you will see by my blunders. This life has few comforts for me and I am walking fast after the poor old man. May my latter end be like his. We have been too remiss. May God forgive us. My best respects attend all my good friends who are kinder to me than I deserve. Tell your wife I heartily wish her and her sister better health. May Mr. Humphrey do well. Tell Harry I long to hear a good account of his health and spirits and his wife that I heartily thank her for the kindness shewed to me and my boy whom I would wish her to send home as I am sure he must be an additional trouble to her considering her own family. I write this with tears in my eyes and have been longer perhaps than I need but as I know your temper I am sure you will not grudge the double postage of this. I have been often in great distress and my present circumstances are not very flattering but the distress of this day is the greatest of all to lose such a father and in such a way is too much for one. May heaven shower down his blessings upon you and yours is the earnest prayer of your unhappy brother.

John Man

Cardiff July 12th 1787

My Grandfather died April 7th 1783 aged 70.