Grave at Eldoret Club In Loving Memory of Harry Vincent, died October 30 1913 aged 46, Peace Perfect Peace

Fred Vincent occupied Farm 63 which was next to "Farm 64", the farm which ultimately became Eldoret town. The brothers were buried on their land which in due course became part of that land now occupied by the Eldoret Club. The graves are adjacent to the 8th tee on the golf course. 

Central Somerset Gazette 5 Dec 1913 He left Glastonbury some 12 years ago and until the beginning of this year resided in Nottingham. In April last, however, he, together with a brother Mr Jack Vincent, sailed for British East Africa to join an older brother Mr FR Vincent. Upon his departure Mrs Vincent and the family consisting of three young children came to Glastonbury, where they have since resided. On November 1st the news reached Glastonbury by cablegram that Mr Vincent had been killed by lightning on 30 October. Particulars of this extremely sad and tragic affair are now forthcoming. It appears that Mr H Vincent who was only 36 years of age, was in a house at the time of the fatality, and that during a heavy tropical thunderstorm he was struck through the brain by lightning, death being instantaneous. Details are contained in a letter from Mr F R Vincent, dated November 2nd, and written from Avalon, Eldoret, BEA. Mr Vincent writes 'Harry and myself (Jack was beaming up the cooking) had been working together all day, stacking oak forage. About three PM I took the gang of boys on building a stone wall, and said to Harry 'I shall not want you, you had better go and get cleaned up'. I worked until about 4:30 and some heavy black clouds loomed up and it started raining a little. I started towards the house when all of a sudden a blinding flash of lightning with an awful crash occurred. I was about 70 yards from the house. I heard Jack yelling for all he was worth and when I arrived at the house I found Jack had had a slight shock. A boy rushed up to say something was the matter with my mare and foal. I went and found both of them stretched out and the stable smelling very funny. I managed to get the mare and foal onto their legs, and Jack coming in I asked him where Harry was. He said he's knocking around somewhere, and for the moment I thought Harry had gone out with the shotgun as he often did it in the evening. A young fellow from the township turned up whilst I was in the stable and I asked him to see if my brother was in his room. He came back with a very white face, saying 'you had better come, something is the matter with your brother.' I went and found poor Harry stretched across a deck chair. First I thought he was only stuned, but on examination I found he had been struck through the brain, and death must have been instantaneous. It's been an awful blow to me. We had to bury Harry the next day. People turned up and about half a dozen wreaths were sent. We buried him about 100 yards from the house, inside my stone wall amongst the trees I have planted.'