Post by accipiter on Feb 5, 2020 10:56:14 GMT
Since I previously mentioned tracing my family history I though you may like to hear how things went so far however, before I proceed I should say I’ve not mention actual names and places where appropriate for obvious reasons, plus the fact the following is just a synopsis otherwise the amount of detail I have would be far too much to explain. However, the following may help to paint the general picture of my quest.
The village, what can I say, what dare I say! Since its’ simply steeped in mysticism and witchcraft shielded by narrow country lanes and rolling hills. Nevertheless, I suggest the weary traveller should think twice in seeking out the village, since as the familiar lyrics to Hotel California go (you can check out any time you like but you can never leave.) This hidden gem nay this golden prize is full of history and salacious secrets of those in high born places and guards them well; but wasn’t for ever so. In fact the secrets are so well hidden the visitor will see very little at all save for a few scattered houses seated in a myriad of twists and turns leading one in ever mysterious circles. One minute you’re there, the next you’re passed through, only to become lost in a continuing series of very narrow twisting lanes, all leading back to where you began, such is the mystery of the village.
........................................................................................................................................................
Although my dad was born in London the early part of his life was spent in the village only to return to visit his aunts regularly; and for long after they passed away almost as if some hidden force beckoned him on, so much so he now lies with his ancestors in the chapel grounds. And now through the twisted hand of fate I too am destined to return, and having visited on more than a few occasions I can quite easily see why this unique picturesque village has cast its magic spell; which makes it all the more remarkably since I’m not one to be taken by flights of fancy that easily. Interestingly enough it’s not because of the beautiful rural scenery but because of the very special people whom live in...
But he grew old this knight so bold and o’er his heart a shadow fell as he found no spot of ground that looked like Eldorado.
And, as his strength failed him at length, he met a pilgrim shadow, ‘Shadow,’ said he where can it be this land of Eldorado?
Over the Mountains of the Moon, down the Valley of the Shadow, ride, boldly ride, ‘the shade replied, if you seek for Eldorado!
Edgar Allan Poe
To say I’ve been very busy is an understatement; since my elder brother passed on the family archive he’s been compiling since I was the only other member of the family interested in such things. Nonetheless, it’s much too extensive to go into much detail here but it did inspire me to do some research of my own particularly our surname meaning those whom have a Norwegian heritage; something that’s not at all’ that surprising since the Vikings populated many areas of the British Isles hence Dane law. The Vikings were a mixture of peoples from all over Scandinavia / northern Germany, therefore Anglo Saxons; and Germanic tribes from Denmark, indeed their DNA can be found in the population of many countries still today.
But interestingly enough the Vikings had a great capacity for curiosity and were known to spend a great deal of time planning the next raid, involving travelling across great distances with nothing but their senses to guide them e.g. weather patterns, watching wildlife behaviour and the position of the moon and stars, in fact it wasn’t till much later when a sunstone was used to plot the position of the sun on cloudy days and the crude wooden hand held sun compass. Crude looking it may have been but it proved to be quite accurate hence their many successful journeys to plunder, trade, and explore. Nevertheless, you could say being always deep in thought (a trait that I haves too) was also necessary for the Vikings since their vast journeys half way across the globe were “extremely perilous” and so memory recall was also crucial.
Nonetheless, after much deliberation I had to ask myself was I capable of taking on such a huge task as to continue recording our family history and what would happen if I refused to accept the challenge; and what would I do if I found something nasty in the woodshed simply turn a blind eye; well I’ve never’ left any stone unturned before and so I wasn’t going to start now.
However, as I looked through the achieve I felt there was something very importantly missing from the 1881 and 1911 census and other data I have since I was born with a “very curious mind” that being an oral history which is far more interesting then trolling through masses of census data since this doesn’t even begin to tell the story. I already know the history on my maternal side of the family including census data, marriage certificates, and death certificates, so it only left my paternal side that live in the village. And so, my first challenge was trying to find any relations still in the world of the living hence I finished up knocking on quite a few doors. Now this probably sounds a quite a bold step to take but since I had very few reference points to solve the issue this was the only option left open, but I wasn’t prepared for the reception I received.
Oh yes, I know that name said the elderly lady; now there’s Albert who lived just round the corner but he’s been dead for years. Incidentally, something I didn’t expect was each elderly lady I encountered looked as healthy as some one half their age, I was going to say fit, but that conjures up completely different connotations these days does it not dear reader.
However, I tried to speak to great uncle Albert quite a few years ago along with my youngest son but again I wasn’t prepared for the reception we received since unknown to me he kept a goose every bit as vicious as the hound of the Baskervilles. And so, we both stood at the gate looking at his distant front door whilst the goose came running up the path hissing, honking, and flapping its wings towards us. However, as luck would have it the front door opened and out stepped great uncle Albert whereupon the goose stopped in its tracks and turned to look back, as if to say what should I do tear their heads off or what. Whereupon my great uncle simply closed the door never to be seen again, but then again what would you do if you saw two strangers standing at the gate which is on a lonely stretch of road, simply close the door I wager.
Nonetheless, the village is a very sleepy, close knit, community, almost lost in time, being somewhere I always experience that certain euphoric uplifting feeling each time I visit; something that’s very difficult to explain, but it could be the very friendly attitude of the residence and a strange feeling of being part of it, especially if your surname name just so happens to be the same as mine.
Strangely enough the next door I knocked on revealed another elderly lady almost a clone of the previous one almost as if some mysterious force had cast a kindly hand on all whom live there. Hmm, try Elsie next door she said which is when the penny finally dropped since there was nothing strange at all, maybe unusual regarding a very small close knit community, where consequently everyone knows everyone else. However; to cut a very long story short I finished up walking up the road followed by a very long line of elderly ladies not unlike the pied piper of Hamelin and knocking on yet more doors, the conversation having moved on to every other resident that was possibly related to my family. In fact I never realised that such places still existed, something I found really quite refreshing in this day and age.
Nevertheless, I wanted to ask my great uncle known as “the sage” so many questions, e.g. why he thought my dad, my sons, his children, and I have green eyes since green eyes are a rare occurrence especially in our example. Besides, having green eyes is something I’ve often wondered about since only “two percent “of the population of the world have these, but common amongst the particular strand of the Viking race that founded Iceland. I never could get any answers from my dad since he was known as the original man of mystery, since no one knew where he went or how many hours he’d be gone, which mystified the villagers when he was growing up. Now you may think this sounds rather strange but I’m speaking of a time when no one owned any form of transport in the village, therefore they walked or accepted a lift from someone passing through. Nevertheless, the village is well known to have very strange tales of missing people.
But to return to my point about green eyes, an individual’s eye colour is complex and doesn’t’ always follow the rules; i.e. both of your parents may have the same colour or indeed the dominant colour being brown whilst you may have a different colour, so one shouldn’t have suspicions concerning parenthood. However, having said that it’s prudent to add a proviso since there are exceptions e.g. if you’re parents, siblings, grandchildren, and extended family also have green eyes then the probability of inheriting the Viking trait has taken a huge leap as in my case. Contrary to popular belief the Vikings were not all tall, well-built, blued eyed, and faired haired either, in fact their average height was just five feet six.
Nonetheless, to expand on the theme of inherited traits one only has to look as far back as their own parents and grandparents to find the answers to one’s own personality and interests e.g. from my mum came the gift of music since she sang and played the piano, violin, and harmonica; outstandingly well too I seem to remember, (be prepared to be amazed Larry Adler,) in fact my aunt was also a very good pianist; once again a trait that was inherited. My dad lit the fire regarding an interest in the natural world all be it unwittingly, no doubt passed on from his ancestors since I found evidence of this. Incidentally, my dad could also be very social and entertaining, since he had the ability to converse with both prince and pauper alike something I never believed possible until he passed away, whereupon invitation after invitation came through the letter box requesting his attendance to the grandest balls one could possibly imagine. I can only say they must have been taken by my dad’s many gifts i.e. being candid if and when the need should arise, although I should say some of those in high positions of power are exceedingly pleasant and helpful it’s true, while others are sadly lacking in moral compass to say the very least since this doesn’t always relate to one’s station in life.
However, I still haven’t scratched the surface of the village since there are still more doors to knock on where I won’t be put through the Spanish inquisition being something I thought may happen which would only be understandable given today’s climate, but I’m pleased to report all have been most helpful throughout my many visits.
Nonetheless, having reached this point I’m extremely pleased I accepted the challenge since I’ve now been given my great aunts church bible found by the church warden printed in 1698; something that’s never seen the light of day for many years although my great aunt past away in nineteen hundred. Although the pages are foxed and the monetary value being zero, it’s nevertheless priceless in its sentimental value. My great aunts hand written inscription inside this large volume is nothing short of sheer poetry and deeply moving revealing a very beautiful, natured, sincere, soul. Even though it appeared in a dreadful state I thought it would be very nice to have and so I excepted it joyfully, but it wasn’t until I returned home I realised the abnormity of what I held in my hands, an epiphany would be an understatement; but I will say her written wish is now granted in essence her soul being her heritage contained within this large volume will remain so safe within my family.
However, think what you may but something very strange happened as the warden read out the inscription; the door to the dining room suddenly swung opened and knocked violently against the chair I was seated upon; even though the door was firmly closed and cannot be opened unless the handle is first released, whereupon the warden remarked; well bless my soul we must have a ghost since that as “never happened before” i.e. a million to one coincidence. Incidentally those of a religious persuasion don’t believe in ghosts but they do believe in Angels, Angelus from Latin the deeper meaning a messenger sent to instruct those on earth to carry out a task. Could it be that her heritage has at last found its resting place in me? No surly not since I don’t believe in paranormal activity leaving the only plausible explanation being the subconscious mind converting signs into reality; in fact James Randi offered a million dollars to anyone who could prove paranormal existence, but needless to say the offer was never taken up.
But it would seem my quest has been a “series of coincidences” thus far or fate call it what you will since I never set out thinking I would meet the people with all the answers I just hoped I would find some, it just turned out I knocked on the right doors when I could have just as easily walked on by. However, the last person I met was nothing short of a revelation and represented all that one could ever wish for in a person; yet another kindly elderly lady who invited me in and made me very welcome, turning out to be my long lost second cousin plus two more cousins whom I met during my quest; I’ve also been given a copy of my family tree by one of my cousin since my extended family view such things as very important indeed. Incidentally, my three cousins all have green eyes including documented evidence of a first cousin who also had green eyes being the village blacksmith, tracing his blacksmith ancestors back to seventeen sixty one; so given all the other information I’ve obtained it’s’ reasonable to assume my ancestors the Vikings were smelting iron here in the eighth century.
Nonetheless, here endeth the saga except to say I found the whole quest extremely enjoyable and fascinating, particularly the parish church records shown by the church warden whose generosity of spirit was outstanding throughout the whole time I spent in the village; not to mention the mysterious intrigue I uncovered of days of yore stretching as far back as the eight century and my ancestors the Vikings. Not to mention the Norman occupation in the twelve century where I was told “some doors” are far better remained closed, even though up to this point I’ve been given a tremendous amount of help, nevertheless this particular knight so bold intends to carry on until all my questions have been answered to my satisfaction.
Footnote
It’s interesting to note the Vikings discovered North America in the tenth century almost five hundred years before Christopher Columbus was born and landed in Russia to trade in goods. The Vikings also used Goshawks and peregrines to hunt with here in Great Britain although the last Goshawks were exterminated by the late 19th century, today’s birds being reintroduced of course.
Alan
When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable, I see no foe. I am related to the earliest times and to the latest...
Henry David Thoreau – Walden - life in the woods
The prologue
The village, what can I say, what dare I say! Since its’ simply steeped in mysticism and witchcraft shielded by narrow country lanes and rolling hills. Nevertheless, I suggest the weary traveller should think twice in seeking out the village, since as the familiar lyrics to Hotel California go (you can check out any time you like but you can never leave.) This hidden gem nay this golden prize is full of history and salacious secrets of those in high born places and guards them well; but wasn’t for ever so. In fact the secrets are so well hidden the visitor will see very little at all save for a few scattered houses seated in a myriad of twists and turns leading one in ever mysterious circles. One minute you’re there, the next you’re passed through, only to become lost in a continuing series of very narrow twisting lanes, all leading back to where you began, such is the mystery of the village.
........................................................................................................................................................
Although my dad was born in London the early part of his life was spent in the village only to return to visit his aunts regularly; and for long after they passed away almost as if some hidden force beckoned him on, so much so he now lies with his ancestors in the chapel grounds. And now through the twisted hand of fate I too am destined to return, and having visited on more than a few occasions I can quite easily see why this unique picturesque village has cast its magic spell; which makes it all the more remarkably since I’m not one to be taken by flights of fancy that easily. Interestingly enough it’s not because of the beautiful rural scenery but because of the very special people whom live in...
Eldorado
Gaily bedight, a gallant knight, in sunshine and in shadow, had journeyed long, singing a song, in search of Eldorado.
But he grew old this knight so bold and o’er his heart a shadow fell as he found no spot of ground that looked like Eldorado.
And, as his strength failed him at length, he met a pilgrim shadow, ‘Shadow,’ said he where can it be this land of Eldorado?
Over the Mountains of the Moon, down the Valley of the Shadow, ride, boldly ride, ‘the shade replied, if you seek for Eldorado!
Edgar Allan Poe
To say I’ve been very busy is an understatement; since my elder brother passed on the family archive he’s been compiling since I was the only other member of the family interested in such things. Nonetheless, it’s much too extensive to go into much detail here but it did inspire me to do some research of my own particularly our surname meaning those whom have a Norwegian heritage; something that’s not at all’ that surprising since the Vikings populated many areas of the British Isles hence Dane law. The Vikings were a mixture of peoples from all over Scandinavia / northern Germany, therefore Anglo Saxons; and Germanic tribes from Denmark, indeed their DNA can be found in the population of many countries still today.
But interestingly enough the Vikings had a great capacity for curiosity and were known to spend a great deal of time planning the next raid, involving travelling across great distances with nothing but their senses to guide them e.g. weather patterns, watching wildlife behaviour and the position of the moon and stars, in fact it wasn’t till much later when a sunstone was used to plot the position of the sun on cloudy days and the crude wooden hand held sun compass. Crude looking it may have been but it proved to be quite accurate hence their many successful journeys to plunder, trade, and explore. Nevertheless, you could say being always deep in thought (a trait that I haves too) was also necessary for the Vikings since their vast journeys half way across the globe were “extremely perilous” and so memory recall was also crucial.
Nonetheless, after much deliberation I had to ask myself was I capable of taking on such a huge task as to continue recording our family history and what would happen if I refused to accept the challenge; and what would I do if I found something nasty in the woodshed simply turn a blind eye; well I’ve never’ left any stone unturned before and so I wasn’t going to start now.
However, as I looked through the achieve I felt there was something very importantly missing from the 1881 and 1911 census and other data I have since I was born with a “very curious mind” that being an oral history which is far more interesting then trolling through masses of census data since this doesn’t even begin to tell the story. I already know the history on my maternal side of the family including census data, marriage certificates, and death certificates, so it only left my paternal side that live in the village. And so, my first challenge was trying to find any relations still in the world of the living hence I finished up knocking on quite a few doors. Now this probably sounds a quite a bold step to take but since I had very few reference points to solve the issue this was the only option left open, but I wasn’t prepared for the reception I received.
Oh yes, I know that name said the elderly lady; now there’s Albert who lived just round the corner but he’s been dead for years. Incidentally, something I didn’t expect was each elderly lady I encountered looked as healthy as some one half their age, I was going to say fit, but that conjures up completely different connotations these days does it not dear reader.
However, I tried to speak to great uncle Albert quite a few years ago along with my youngest son but again I wasn’t prepared for the reception we received since unknown to me he kept a goose every bit as vicious as the hound of the Baskervilles. And so, we both stood at the gate looking at his distant front door whilst the goose came running up the path hissing, honking, and flapping its wings towards us. However, as luck would have it the front door opened and out stepped great uncle Albert whereupon the goose stopped in its tracks and turned to look back, as if to say what should I do tear their heads off or what. Whereupon my great uncle simply closed the door never to be seen again, but then again what would you do if you saw two strangers standing at the gate which is on a lonely stretch of road, simply close the door I wager.
Nonetheless, the village is a very sleepy, close knit, community, almost lost in time, being somewhere I always experience that certain euphoric uplifting feeling each time I visit; something that’s very difficult to explain, but it could be the very friendly attitude of the residence and a strange feeling of being part of it, especially if your surname name just so happens to be the same as mine.
Strangely enough the next door I knocked on revealed another elderly lady almost a clone of the previous one almost as if some mysterious force had cast a kindly hand on all whom live there. Hmm, try Elsie next door she said which is when the penny finally dropped since there was nothing strange at all, maybe unusual regarding a very small close knit community, where consequently everyone knows everyone else. However; to cut a very long story short I finished up walking up the road followed by a very long line of elderly ladies not unlike the pied piper of Hamelin and knocking on yet more doors, the conversation having moved on to every other resident that was possibly related to my family. In fact I never realised that such places still existed, something I found really quite refreshing in this day and age.
Nevertheless, I wanted to ask my great uncle known as “the sage” so many questions, e.g. why he thought my dad, my sons, his children, and I have green eyes since green eyes are a rare occurrence especially in our example. Besides, having green eyes is something I’ve often wondered about since only “two percent “of the population of the world have these, but common amongst the particular strand of the Viking race that founded Iceland. I never could get any answers from my dad since he was known as the original man of mystery, since no one knew where he went or how many hours he’d be gone, which mystified the villagers when he was growing up. Now you may think this sounds rather strange but I’m speaking of a time when no one owned any form of transport in the village, therefore they walked or accepted a lift from someone passing through. Nevertheless, the village is well known to have very strange tales of missing people.
But to return to my point about green eyes, an individual’s eye colour is complex and doesn’t’ always follow the rules; i.e. both of your parents may have the same colour or indeed the dominant colour being brown whilst you may have a different colour, so one shouldn’t have suspicions concerning parenthood. However, having said that it’s prudent to add a proviso since there are exceptions e.g. if you’re parents, siblings, grandchildren, and extended family also have green eyes then the probability of inheriting the Viking trait has taken a huge leap as in my case. Contrary to popular belief the Vikings were not all tall, well-built, blued eyed, and faired haired either, in fact their average height was just five feet six.
Nonetheless, to expand on the theme of inherited traits one only has to look as far back as their own parents and grandparents to find the answers to one’s own personality and interests e.g. from my mum came the gift of music since she sang and played the piano, violin, and harmonica; outstandingly well too I seem to remember, (be prepared to be amazed Larry Adler,) in fact my aunt was also a very good pianist; once again a trait that was inherited. My dad lit the fire regarding an interest in the natural world all be it unwittingly, no doubt passed on from his ancestors since I found evidence of this. Incidentally, my dad could also be very social and entertaining, since he had the ability to converse with both prince and pauper alike something I never believed possible until he passed away, whereupon invitation after invitation came through the letter box requesting his attendance to the grandest balls one could possibly imagine. I can only say they must have been taken by my dad’s many gifts i.e. being candid if and when the need should arise, although I should say some of those in high positions of power are exceedingly pleasant and helpful it’s true, while others are sadly lacking in moral compass to say the very least since this doesn’t always relate to one’s station in life.
However, I still haven’t scratched the surface of the village since there are still more doors to knock on where I won’t be put through the Spanish inquisition being something I thought may happen which would only be understandable given today’s climate, but I’m pleased to report all have been most helpful throughout my many visits.
Nonetheless, having reached this point I’m extremely pleased I accepted the challenge since I’ve now been given my great aunts church bible found by the church warden printed in 1698; something that’s never seen the light of day for many years although my great aunt past away in nineteen hundred. Although the pages are foxed and the monetary value being zero, it’s nevertheless priceless in its sentimental value. My great aunts hand written inscription inside this large volume is nothing short of sheer poetry and deeply moving revealing a very beautiful, natured, sincere, soul. Even though it appeared in a dreadful state I thought it would be very nice to have and so I excepted it joyfully, but it wasn’t until I returned home I realised the abnormity of what I held in my hands, an epiphany would be an understatement; but I will say her written wish is now granted in essence her soul being her heritage contained within this large volume will remain so safe within my family.
However, think what you may but something very strange happened as the warden read out the inscription; the door to the dining room suddenly swung opened and knocked violently against the chair I was seated upon; even though the door was firmly closed and cannot be opened unless the handle is first released, whereupon the warden remarked; well bless my soul we must have a ghost since that as “never happened before” i.e. a million to one coincidence. Incidentally those of a religious persuasion don’t believe in ghosts but they do believe in Angels, Angelus from Latin the deeper meaning a messenger sent to instruct those on earth to carry out a task. Could it be that her heritage has at last found its resting place in me? No surly not since I don’t believe in paranormal activity leaving the only plausible explanation being the subconscious mind converting signs into reality; in fact James Randi offered a million dollars to anyone who could prove paranormal existence, but needless to say the offer was never taken up.
But it would seem my quest has been a “series of coincidences” thus far or fate call it what you will since I never set out thinking I would meet the people with all the answers I just hoped I would find some, it just turned out I knocked on the right doors when I could have just as easily walked on by. However, the last person I met was nothing short of a revelation and represented all that one could ever wish for in a person; yet another kindly elderly lady who invited me in and made me very welcome, turning out to be my long lost second cousin plus two more cousins whom I met during my quest; I’ve also been given a copy of my family tree by one of my cousin since my extended family view such things as very important indeed. Incidentally, my three cousins all have green eyes including documented evidence of a first cousin who also had green eyes being the village blacksmith, tracing his blacksmith ancestors back to seventeen sixty one; so given all the other information I’ve obtained it’s’ reasonable to assume my ancestors the Vikings were smelting iron here in the eighth century.
Nonetheless, here endeth the saga except to say I found the whole quest extremely enjoyable and fascinating, particularly the parish church records shown by the church warden whose generosity of spirit was outstanding throughout the whole time I spent in the village; not to mention the mysterious intrigue I uncovered of days of yore stretching as far back as the eight century and my ancestors the Vikings. Not to mention the Norman occupation in the twelve century where I was told “some doors” are far better remained closed, even though up to this point I’ve been given a tremendous amount of help, nevertheless this particular knight so bold intends to carry on until all my questions have been answered to my satisfaction.
Footnote
It’s interesting to note the Vikings discovered North America in the tenth century almost five hundred years before Christopher Columbus was born and landed in Russia to trade in goods. The Vikings also used Goshawks and peregrines to hunt with here in Great Britain although the last Goshawks were exterminated by the late 19th century, today’s birds being reintroduced of course.
Alan
When I hear music, I fear no danger. I am invulnerable, I see no foe. I am related to the earliest times and to the latest...
Henry David Thoreau – Walden - life in the woods