Showing posts with label Genealogy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Genealogy. Show all posts

Thursday, 28 September 2017

Samuel Sampson of Wildridge North Tawton


The page above is taken from Herbert Sampson's Memoirs, whose opening pages tell us what he remembers about his father, Samuel Sampson of Wildridge North Tawton. In this short piece I've largely left my uncle to conjure up my paternal grandfather. 
 (see more below)
Samuel Sampson, probably in London
before he moved back to Devon with his family circa 1910

Contemporary Newspaper accounts of funeral of Samuel Sampson of Wildridge 
       The list of mourners at the funeral of our father's father, Samuel Sampson, in 1931, when he was only 63, suggests he was a popular man. Although he was my grandfather I can not relate any personal anecdote about Samuel's importance in my own life; he died long before I was born. However, implicitly I was always aware of his standing in our family and within the local community of North Tawton, in Devon. His name frequently was dropped into family conversations and he was never far from my father's, or his brothers' and sisters' memories; indeed, they were all evidently very fond of him. But Grandfather's rapport was not only with his immediate family. His funeral account describes Samuel's varied involvements in the town as well as and out and about its neighbouring parishes.



An Overseer, member of the Town Council, Chairman of the Old Age Pensions Committee, Manager of Local Schools, Trustee of School Lands Charity, Special Constable, member Fat Stock Committee, Hon. Collector for the British and Foreign Bible Society.


Apparently, grandfather was interested in progressive social schemes and other newspaper accounts of the time indicate how he became involved in local water improvement schemes. 
   

     Brought up in Broadwoodkelly in an important farming family which had a long established presence in the parish,  along with his brother John, Samuel turned to the building profession to make his own way of life. Samuel moved away from his home parish of Broadwoodkelly at a young age. I think, given the family's farming background the fact that Samuel left the area and farming may have been because of the decline in farming that happened in the mid to late C19. Samuel's second eldest son. our late uncle Herbert, is the one who can take up the story about his father through his own Memoirs (copies of which are held by members of the Sampson family). Herbert's deft and highly detailed account conjures a vivid sense of his father's presence and talents, including his professional building expertise and musical skills.

   
The pages above are taken from Grandfather Samuel's son, Herbert Sampson's Memoirs. Herbert's memory was fantastic and the extracts tell some of the story of the Sampson's move down to North Tawton from London and after a short time where the family stayed at a cottage in Bondleigh, their early years at Wildridge. 

   


  As builder, cum-architect Samuel designed and built several local structures. One such is North Tawton's War Memorial,  which 

was moved to the cemetery in Exeter Street in 1948. It stood originally in the park in Barton Lane, which, like the Memorial, was bequeathed to the town by Frank Gibbings. Local builder, Samuel Sampson, designed and built the Memorial. It consists of a granite obelisk mounted on an ornate square plinth with recessed panels of pink marble bearing inscriptions on each of the four sides.

In his Memoirs Herbert recounts his own memory-trace of the beginning of World War One, which includes a reference to his father's designing of the North Tawton War Memorial, which still stands in the cemetery in Exeter Street. Standing in front of the memorial you can glance up the slopes behind the town and between the huddles of encroaching new-builds, see the trees, fields and even a glimpse of the house he built and made his and his family's mid Devon home. Samuel, his wife and several of their children are buried in the cemetery.








North Tawton War Memorial

Samuel Sampson of Wildridge North Tawton




Samuel Sampson, back on right and his wife and five children
at Wildridge circa 1925

Tuesday, 26 September 2017

Snap Marjorie -

Another poem from several written with Wildridge and various individuals who lived there, as background. This one began with an old photo of one of my two maiden aunts, whose childhoods were spent at the house. Both of them appear in the photo in Turning the Wheel. Typical of their generation neither aunt fulfilled her true potential. Nancy, the younger was a gifted pianist and taught piano for many years; she was wonderful with children and retained her own inner child until the end of her life. Marjorie, the elder, subject of this poem, also talented as musician, was unable to completely pursue her considerable intellectual talents. However during WW2 she became a Land Girl and following that period, making use of the skills she'd obtained during the war, worked for many years as a gifted gardener at a place near Topsham.





copyright Julie Sampson

Saturday, 16 September 2017

And so to Okehampton - Harris and Sprague families



So now we're under Dartmoor, in Okehampton. Jane Harris' father's family were rooted in the district for several  - perhaps many centuries. I wanted to mark the route of that family prior to her grandfather William Harris' leaving his home-town and settling over in East Devon.

Following a recent visit to the town I decided to write an underlayer of 'description' conjuring the moorland, which here appears half visible beneath a poem I wrote after finding the graves of Jane's ggrandparents (and my generation's great great grandparents) Richard Harris and Jane Sprague (who probably spent their lives in Okehampton), in the graveyard of the church high above the town.

Path leading up to Okehampton Church


Richard Harris and Jane Sprague -
gravestone
at Okehampton Church
Photo Julie Sampson



A slightly different version of  'As We Climbed the Slope' was published by Helen Ivory online, in Ink Sweat and Tears






Best Blog Post to read before this is Land of the Luggs

Thursday, 14 September 2017

Finding Sites the Older Ways (1) - Land of the Luggs


My family wheel begins in east Devon, in what I call the 'land of the Luggs'.

It was only a handful of years ago I found that the maternal branch of grandmother Jane  (father's mother) side of the family, the Luggs, were rooted in and around the Budleigh Salterton district, at Colaton, Harpford, Otterford and other nearby parishes. Jane's immediate ancestral names will appear on the next blog post.The piece below is a layered superimpostion of pieces inspired by the area near the estuary of the river Otter, which weaves into and through the Lugg family's homelands. I wanted to try and capture the essence of the landscape.

There are also fragments from drafts of poems I've written about people on that tree, with the names of Jane's parents, Elizabeth (Lydia) Lugg and Richard Harris (who I think must have met in the area of East Budleigh, or perhaps Bicton, where Richard's father William was for some years Farm Bailiff) standing out (see a draft of another poem about William on this post).
 
Why can't you read all  of the piece? Well, this representation is for me the best way of illustrating how I see genealogy. There are multiple complicated levels of a life-journey for each individual on a family tree and each of these is complexly interwoven with the equally intricate life-trails of the others on the tree. How ever much we find is only partial; much will remain lost or invisible and as a writer this kind of document reflects the frustration and intrigue of the process of research and documenting the family-tree.






Copyright Julie Sampson

Wednesday, 21 November 2012

Finding the Start


‘Listen to the voices, feelings, sights and experiences of our ancestors. Their lives, joys and fears are within us. In that way, they are with us always’.
            You have to begin somewhere. You have to find the time in some corner of your mind. The years go by and you find you have cluttered spaces in your own home fussed with pieces of paper and scraps of others’ writings. You start to research; in the days of the world wide web that is easy. Before you know where you are you have a mountain more material. That is the situation I am in now when getting to that stage when there may not be many of my own years yet to enjoy and try to share just a fragment of what I have found.

        I have a chest of drawers full to the brim with chattering individuals from my ancestral family, all begging to talk to me at once, all wanting to promote their own family’s photo from the torn photo-bibles and photo albums - now antique - brushed by the dust of the drawer-space. 



One of the photos from a family album. I think the river is the Taw at Bondleigh

         They must want to tell me about who they are so much that the drawers may soon fall out with the pressure of hidden voices.
          It’s all about your forefathers and foremothers. And about passing on what you know. I  am not a genealogist; nor am I much of an expert in knowing all the pertinent family history sources. I do not intend to leave behind a rigorous account or chart of my ancestral roots. Every single individual's story is complicated and everyone even our distant ancestors, can be contrary and contradictory. How then can one assume an understanding of anyone, even if he or she is one's several times great grandparent? However, I can come out with wwhat seem impressive dates and names and facts. Our family's as yet known (probable) earliest ancestor is Johannes MITCHELLMORE/MYCHELMORE, born in 1570, in Buckfastleigh. That’s near the end of the reign of Elizabeth 1st, approaching five hundred years ago; in between there are a bewildering number of individuals. There is never time to settle and begin to mark them down on to blank sheets of paper, try to find them again in the footholds of history and then to reinvent them to recreate them for those who are to follow me, and for the extended family. 

          As with every family there there are a cluster of unsolved mysteries, which may never be solved, though maybe one of those as yet unknown people in the future may be able to do so ...
          Who do you think of when you think of ‘family’? I seem to have been drawn more toward my paternal 'Sampsons', but have also been fascinated by the michroncondrail ancestry inherited from my mother. I have traced the Sampsons back to circa middle of the C17, but before that I draw a blank. How long did the Sampsons live in the mid Devon village of Broadwoodkelly? Records show that they were there for at least three centuries. When did they arrive there? As yet I do not know.
          There is a parallel and fascinating situation with my maternal mothers. I have found my mother’s mother’s mother’s mother Charlotte, and I know she came from Christow in Devon. I know also that she, just as my paternal surname, was also a Sampson. But as yet I can not find definitive evidence of her parentage and indeed if her Sampson ancestors link up with the paternal line of the same name.
           But I’m not beginning with either of these lines ...
Do take a look ...

copyright Julie Sampson