Day 14 & 15: Ancestors & family

I think this is the first time since I have been creating travel blogs that I missed posting on the day. Yesterday my cousin Christine and her husband Eddie picked me up at my hotel and took me to a group of villages in Oxfordshire/Buckinghamshire which figure heavily in my family history. My maternal grandfather's ancestors came from these villages and I very much wanted to visit them. It was an amazing experience for me. I took a lot of photos, and it took me numerous hours to edit and organise them. It has taken me the best part of today (Day15) to write this up, sitting in the hotel lounge, tapping away on my laptop, filling in the family history detail. It is now 4 pm and I've been here since 10 am - so this is a two-day post!

Feel free to skip the whole post if family history bores you. 

It was wonderful, as always, to see Christine and Eddie, both looking pretty well and dapper. They drove over from Cheltenham to take me out.

It was about an hour's drive to get to the Buckinghamshire villages.

My grandfather's name was Albert Edward Ray. Family story has it that the family originally came from France. If this is the case (and I have no evidence) it was with William the Conqueror, who gave his retainers the surname 'Roi' - belonging to the king - which translated into Ray in English. The other possibility is that the name came from the river.

The landscape was surprisingly open and flat, with big skies and few farmhouses. It was very marshy with lots of water still lying around from the recent heavy rains.

To my surprise, the villages were within about a 10 mile radius of each other. I had not understood this from looking at a map in Australia.


I have ordered our visits in a chronological order of my ancestors' occupation, rather than the order in which we visited them to make sense of my family history.


From this point of view, the story begins in Piddington, Oxfordshire.  We approached this in the afternoon when the sun was trying to break through and the clouds made continuously changing patterns.

Piddington is a substantial village, with layers of housing from varying ages - but very different from when my 7x Great Grandfather, Thomas Ray was born here in about 1657, even if a few houses remained from that time..











It was nice to see the daffodils out.



We made our way to the Church.


St Nicholas Piddington is quite a small, compact church with an entrance from the Eastern end, along the Southern side.

There is a strange narrow door in the Southeastern corner, covered by a hanging on the inside.


The graveyard is well kept and headstones worn.


I did not attempt to find evidence of Thomas Ray, nor of his son, William (1675-1727) who married Margery Mukell here in 1697.

















Their 7 children were baptised here between 1698 and 1714.

St Nicholas' has an impressive set of kneelers. There are some energetic needlepointers with excellent colour sense and design skills in this parish.

It is a simple, well maintained church, with a lovely section of parquet flooring.







Bell ringing is important, with evidence of success by the local team.



The church is evidently a hub for community matters. The Parish Matters newsletter covers issues from drain clearing to rural policing, events at the village hall. allotments and a Wonderful Villages photo competition.















Bell ringing is important, with evidence of success by the local team.

John Ray, my 5x GGrandfather was born in Piddington in 1709.  He married Sarah Coxhead at St Mary Magdalene Beckley in 1736. Their 7 children were all born between 1737 and 1752 in Marsh Gibbon, 12 miles from Beckley, and 4.3 miles from Piddington.

We arrived in Marsh Gibbon about 1.30 pm. The skies are still open, and there was more housing development than Piddington, although no evidence of local industry.  Marsh Gibbon appears to be a bit of a hub, a role it seems to have played in the eighteenth century when my ancestors lived there as agricultural labourers .

There are old farmhouse buildings and - to our relief, a pub.

From Plough Inn website.

The Plough Inn was surrounded by roadworks. This did not prevent us entering, but did not make for a decent photo, so I have borrowed one from their website.

Inside a few locals were watching the Cheltenham races.  The dog had what sounded like a cough (not a good sign in the current Covid19 crisis) but which the owner clearly regarded as an attention-seeking bark. As the dog eventually obeyed the owner's command to stop, she may have been right.














Eddie managed to organise sandwiches for our lunch and also a bowl of carrot soup for me.


The notices over the bar advertise live bands about once a month. There are also quizzes and Rugby-watching.



I forgot to ask someone to take a photo of us!



Across the road from the pub, St Mary the Virgin Marsh Gibbon is trying hard to raise the 45,000 necessary to fix the church roof.

The need for this was very obvious once we were inside. There is a loud noise of wind under the roof slates and daylight through some of them.

The present building dates from the 13th century, although there was a church on the site long before that.















It has been continuously renovated in almost every century, with windows and arches being moved and reused as aisles were widened, windows and storage added.








The bells were cast by Richard Chandler in 1678 with the exception of the tenor bell which was cast in 1854. Again, bell-ringing is evidently a popular activity.



The interior is smaller that we anticipated from looking at the outside.

There are very old grave stones on the floor, not readable to the naked eye.







Some of the The kneelers are older, simpler and more worn than those at Piddlington,



but there are also some that are newer and bolder in design and colour.





There is a lovely South transept window and organ.
















The reredos of the Last Supper at the back of the altar was carved from a single piece of limestone in 1892 by F.C. Lees.

The font appears to be the same that was used to baptise the seven children of John Ray and Sarah Coxhead. John, my 4xGGrandfather was certainly baptised here in 1749.














The church yard has a decent collection of yew trees, and abuts Manor Farm. The town does not have a manor house, the Manor Farm appearing to be the largest and most impressive dwelling in the village and right on the church boundary. The graveyard is far from overcrowded.












As we leave Marsh Gibbon in the early afternoon, there is still water lying around.









John Ray, my ancestor baptised in Marsh Gibbon in 1749, marries Mary Pangston in Twyford on 21 June 1773. Mary is from Charndon and the couple in Twyford and Chearsley. In April 1806 John is charged with stealing a rail fence but is discharged by proclamation!

Twyford , as we enter is pleasant, quiet, and still through wet streets. Twyford is a railway town.


Robert Ray, my 3xGGrandfather, was born in Twyford in 1793. His father was 44 and his mother 41. In 1818, at the age of 25, he married Mary Susanna Tue  at the Church of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Twyford.

 Mary Susannah's family are described as from Charndon, or sometimes from nearby Poundon. When their first son was born the next year, they were living in Charndon.

This large farm with abundant hay, is on the border of Charndon and Twyford. Called Hill Farm, it would not surprise me if the wooden name board on the tree
 at the gate had not been familiar to  Robert and Mary!











Their 9 children were born in Charndon.

They lived there until their death, Mary Susannah in 1856, aged 61 and Robert in 1877 aged 84. By this time, enclosures had taken their toll on the livelihood of agricultural labourers. Robert died a pauper.

To make ends meet, at least 17 of the women in Robert and Mary's extended family in the villages of Charndon, Chearsley and Marsh Gibbon were lacemakers in the nineteenth century: Susannah, Ann, Fanny, Mary, and two Sarah Rays, Rebecca, Martha and Mary Ann Lamburn, Ann, Mary and Martha Parker, Sarah and Elizabeth Badrick, Rosa Briscoe,Mary North and Anne Neary. Some of them were 8 years old when appearing as lace-maker on the census.

Charndon has what appears to be an old village green surrounded by large old houses.












Since then housing estates have sprung up on land no double worked and walked on by Mary, Robert and their children.

Their eldest son, Thomas, born in 1819, was my 2xGGrandfather. He was baptised in Twyford, presumably the closest church. In 1840 he married Susannah Howes at the Church of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Twyford. They lived in Chardon until 1845, before moving to Iver Buckinghamshire in 1846 where they worked as servants - very likely at the nearby Eton School.

To round off the story, after Susannah died in 1858, leaving 7 children, Thomas married again later the same year. He and his second wife Eliza Johnson had another 5 children, the youngest of whom, Albert Edward Ray was my Great Grandfather. By 1861 Thomas was a green-grocer in Iver, from where he began to make and sell ginger beer. He moved to Hillingdon in 1862 and established a mineral water business in which both my grandfather and great-grandfather worked. The enclosures had put an end to the life of agricultural labourers.

We, however, left the pilgrimage in the Ray Valley, and drove back to Stratford gradually leaving the open skies and marshy ground behind us.

For me it was a wonderful day discovering the landscape of my ancestors in the company of Christine and Eddy for whom no request or trail was too much bother. I feel really privileged to have had this opportunity. I was surprised by the closeness of the villages and the consistency of the landscape.

Christine, Eddie and I enjoyed catching up, picking up much where we left off last year. I am grateful for their generosity, company, knowledge - not to mention Eddy's driving.

My only regret is that I didn't  get someone to take that photo for me!

Day 13: Farewells and Cats

  I had a leisurely start to the day. Others, including Melody and Sheelagh, had gone before I got up. I had packed last night so was able to take my time over breakfast and spend time talking to mates. At 10.00am I had my bags carried down to reception ( did not trust myself to manoeuvre my bags up and down 2 sets of stairs) said farewell to those waiting for taxis, and set off down the road to my next hotel

Genevieve, who is staying on at the Arden for a few days offered to walk with me. It was a very simple walk, but did help to have a second pair of hands manoeuvring it over the slate paving stone.

As I expected, my new room was not ready, so we checked in my bags and went shopping. I wanted to buy a screwdriver and go to the Edinburgh Woollen Mill and Genevieve to Boots. We got the screwdriver at a hardware store. I will now be able to tighten and change my hoop! Genevieve helped me choose a top and we got what she needed at Boots.

On our way we saw an billboard for a Cat Cafe. Genevieve knew about this from her son, and was interested to explore, so when we had completed our shopping tasks we followed the signs to the Shakespaw Cat Cafe.














It was one of the madder places I have been to.

For a modest entry fee, you get to order drinks and food amongst the cats. It is, apparently, a Japanese idea, meant to relax and calm.

There were, I think, about seven cats on cushions, blankets, towels or various structures designed for their pleasure.

The proprietor serves food and drink from a kitchen behind a hatch. This is the signal for the cats to come, hoping for milk.

Once our coffee was served the cats lost interest and went back to sleep, but since we paying to watch the cats, the proprietor woke them up with treats.






That worked for a while.

There are more rooms downstairs, including a cat bedroom. Genevieve went to inspect, I didn't.













As soon as she left her chair it was occupied by a cat.

Another climbed on our table to get to the windowsill.



The proprietor got on with her work.








There was a helpful mirror to allow you to see what was going on at the other end of the shop.

I'm so grateful to Genevieve for treating me to this experience.  I would never have done it on my own.It was extraordinary, and to me, vaguely creepy. It was not a calming Japanese zen experience - but a good story.

Genevieve left me at my hotel. I hope her husband arrived safely and they are enjoying a relaxed, delicious meal at the Arden.

At the Mercure, I was given a choice of a room next to the lift with a shower over the bath, or one of the two rooms with walk-in shower either up a flight of stairs or a circuitous walk from the lift with a few steps along the way. I went for the walk-in shower.
This hotel is full of steps and stairs. Fortunately, my room is on the first floor up one relatively short, straight set of stairs, not those shown here.
Here the rooms are named after Shakespearean characters. Mine is, unfortunately, called Macbeth! Only Macbeth and Hamlet have walk-in showers.



Inside it is a reasonable size, comfortable, but not well-lit.


I unpacked, did a few stitches, then set off for Shakespeare's New Place, where he lived for 19 years before his death. I arrived just in time for a talk - a recounting of the history of the house with diagrams. Fundamentally, it predated Shakespeare, was remodelled, demolished, rebuilt, demolished and created as a memorial to Shakespeare by the Shakespeare Trust.







It has really lovely Elizabethan-style gardens including sculptures inspired by Shakespeare, pennants for each of his plays, the opening lines of all the sonnets.

It is next to the Guild Hall, with good views from the garden.











It was, by now, raining, so I didn't linger in the garden.












Back at the hotel I settled myself in the lounge area, in front of a window at street level, with good light and worked some more of Nicola's Titania. A fellow retreater went past and tapped on the window.

I had not registered I was visible to passers by!



I ate in the restaurant attached to the hotel. The best part of the meal was the Affogato.

My thanks to Genevieve for keeping me company this morning and helping make the choice of top -I'm pleased with it- and for taking me to the most extraordinary cafe.

I do hope all my fellow retreaters travelled well and safely.

Tomorrow Christine and Eddie are coming to see me. Woohoo!

Day12: Crewel Orange , Holy Trinity and I win a prize

We had free choice today of whether we took a formal class with Phillipa, caught up on things we were unsure of with tutors, visited other tutors, or generally hung out.
I chose to spend the morning in Phillipa's class embroidering an orange. It was a lot of fun and very satisfying. It is such an "ah" moment to see the colours blending and forming a unified whole. I look forward to working on this next week after I have finished my plaited braid stitch! The colours are so rich and rewarding.

This will, I'm sure, fill a gap in my crewel chair.
After lunch the shop was open for the last time. I bought two pieces of Phillipa's specially woven linen. I came intending to buy this so I can contribute to the many discussions at the Embroiderers' Guild of SA about linens. It isn't an area where I feel qualified to comment, but I would like to introduce these linens into the discussion.

I also bought a scissor chatelaine. I admire the way Christine Bishop carries hers this way at the Guild, so thought I'd try (ignoring the 12-15 pairs of scissors I already have in scissor keeps, with scissor fobs !)

I spent a bit of time putting some of the sequins and beads on Titania, from Nicola Jarvis's Midsummer Pillowe class earlier in the week. I am nervous about (1) losing the beads in the kit, (2) dropping or pinging them around the room while using them and (3) forgetting which go where. I still have a few to go. I hope to finish it in my new hotel tomorrow. I packed it up to walk down to Holy Trinity Church and meet Melody, so we could see the interior we were unable to see last Saturday.

It isn't a large church and Shakespeare, unsurprisingly features strongly in what it has on display. It is the church where Shakespeare was baptised, married and buried.


It was late afternoon, raining as I walked there, but the sun came out and filled the church with light and shadows.

In terms of architecture I liked the roof best.

However, my favourite element was by far the kneelers - big chunky ones embroidered with text, illustrated text or environmental images

There were lovely long ones in the choir stalls with psalms.




My favourites were the three in the prayer chapel, two in needlepoint and the last in silk.
















There was also some  notable stonework detail. I like the angels - they'd make great embroideries.









Then there are the miseracords - the mercy seats provided for ailing monks and other clerics who could not stand for the whole service.

These are truly beautiful - and numerous.

I only photographed those in easy reach of my camera. I liked the creatures and plants but there are many storied - sacred and secular - represented in the misericords.


I might go back during the week to have a more extensive look.

It must be a bit of a burden for a church to have to focus so closely on Shakespeare. They have used his association with the church very positively to educate visitors in historical practices. There are boards explaining, for example, marriage practices in Shakespeare's time, using his daughter's wedding as an example. These boards tell about his funeral, broadening it to funeral practices in general.


His grave - and the graves of his family - have a prominent place inside the church.



The Clapton Chapel is a side-chapel, full of tombs of the Clapton family. It was a Lady Chapel until the Reformation, after which the Clapton family kept it going and were buried there.





To me, it creates an atmosphere of death in the church. I'm sure there is a lively congregation. Almost for the first time in an English church, I felt a sense of a dead past, rather than a current congregation and church life.  It was interesting and much of it beautiful - but the past weighs heavy. The past is always present in a church, but it doesn't usually dominate.








The pulpit belies this





and the light from the windows in the very late afternoon gives hope.



















At 6pm we gathered in the dining area for farewell drinks and canapes. There were thanks to the wonderful tutors and helpers. After dinner we thanked the kitchen staff, who have been truly terrific. The food has been superb and the service without fault. 




We also had a preview of the Muncaster hanging, stitched by Harriet. Extraordinary. So lovely to see.

At the end of the evening Richard drew a name out of a bag to win a £100 Crewel Work Company voucher. For your name to be in the hat you had to have returned your feedback form.

To my total astonishment it was my name! Wow!

It has been such a good 8 days. Amongst this group of people I find my tribe. We recognise each other, share not just embroidery, but values and experiences. We pick up where we left off and connect to each other in very fundamental ways.

I'm so glad I came.