Iddesleigh Dowland & Monkokehampton; C21 Palette

From Iddesleigh church

Iddesleigh Dowland and Monkokehampton; a C21 palette

Several branches of my paternal ancestors were rooted in Iddesleigh the neighbouring parish to Broadwoodkelly, where the Sampson family were yeoman farmers for many centuries. There were offshoot branches also established in nearby Dowland and Monkokehampton. The piece here is from a layered prose-poem written after a recent visit to the area in search of graves and sites linked with the family. It includes the names of several generations of our forbearers who lived in these parishes.

Do also look at Finding Sites the Older Way; Broadwoodkelly, which links with this piece and the ancestral branch of the people it features. 

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

Jane Harris first on the Wheel

OK. So, though there are still many gaps in her tree, this shows four generations of Jane Harris, my father's mother's parentage.

You can find my own Finding Sites the Older Ways exploration of Jane's family beginning in this Lugg post.

Jane Harris Sampson 1876-1951

I recently drafted a poem which contains a fragment about Jane; our life-paths only just crossed. Here are a few lines from the poem:

I don't know why, but then I

think of the granny I didn't know,

how our lives had crossed

the day after, in my cradle,

     I'd cried

my first six months away

and, coming alive,

Jane, grandmother,

     died.

Then, I recall her forbearers from these parts,

their fossil traces

must litter the sandstone landscapes of this place.

Copyright Julie Sampson