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Marnhull

Lane, Moore & Bravel Pt.2

Thomas Bravel (1616-1655) had also studied at Oxford. He too had become rector of Compton Abbas, but later became more famously known as the leader of the “Clubmen,” the men who fought Oliver Cromwell’s forces on Hambledon Hill. The Clubmen were countrymen from various parts of the country; men who resented the “un-natural” English Civil War and who were becoming increasingly exasperated as they witnessed the opposing armies trample their crops and loot both their livestock and their stores. It is said they wore a white cockade by way of uniform and their banners proclaimed: “If you offer to plunder or take our cattle be assured we will bid you battle.”

This motley force, armed in the main with clubs (hence the name “Clubmen”) and with other agricultural implements such as scythes, were particularly well represented in Dorset, and having been earlier harried by Cromwell’s roundheads, some two or four thousand of them became entrenched on Hambledon Hill on the 2nd of August 1645. It was here they made their last stand, led by the rector of Compton Abbas, the Reverend Thomas Bravel.

Against them was Cromwell’s army of some 1000 men, fresh from the siege of Sherborne Castle. On Hambledon Hill, Cromwell attacked from the rear and the Clubmen were routed, despite reports that Thomas Bravel threatened to “pistol whoever gave back.” Of course, they were no match for Cromwell’s more professional and disciplined soldiers, and the Clubmen were trounced, many taken prisoner, including four rectors and curates. The leaders, including, presumably, Thomas Bravel, were locked-up overnight in the church of St. Mary’s at nearby Shroton (Iwerne Courtney.) Cromwell, described them as “poor silly creatures,” and after allowing them to be first lectured he ordered their release next morning with no further punishment.

Although there appears to be little surviving written record of the “battle” itself, Thomas Bravel gives an impression of a somewhat fiery character, and the transcribed Minutes of the Dorset Standing Committee 1646-1650 are possibly testament to this. In 1646, the Committee at first effectively sacked Thomas Bravel as rector of Compton Abbas for his association with the Clubmen, and or “words by him spoken in abuse of the favour of this Committee towards him.” He was told he could not “officiate in any Cure within the Countie until further order.” But then he appears to have been demoted rather than sacked and although ordered to leave Compton Abbas with his wife and family, was given the living of Poorstock instead. A Mr Ed. Wootton, a “godly and orthodox divyne clerk,” was awarded the parish of Compton Abbas in his place, but it appears the parishioners refused to pay their tithes and taxes to this particular gentleman, and Thomas was reinstated at Compton Abbas after only six months absence.

When I first read the story of Thomas Bravel I at first imagined him as an older man, perhaps white haired, in black cassock, swarthy and forthright in both body and deed – very much like the Father Collins character played by Trevor Howard in the film “Ryan’s Daughter.” But of course, Thomas was only in his very late twenties at the time of Hambledon Hill, and he died a relatively young man in 1655, aged only 39. In his will he appoints his wife (given name unknown) and his brother-in-law (presumably his wife’s brother, rather than a sister’s husband) as executors. The brother-in-law is named as William PYM, tailor of St. Martin in the Fields, London. We believe this to be the same William Pym, tailor in the Strand to Samuel Pepys and mentioned in his famous diaries.

The Oxford alumni records Thomas Bravel originating in Chipping Campden, Gloucestershire. At that time Chipping Campden and the surrounding area was an extremely wealthy and influential part of England, the prosperous wool trade producing many wealthy merchants, many of whom later found political influence in London.

Thomas’ father was also Thomas Bravel (1568-1639.) This Thomas had been born in nearby Saintbury, a pretty little village overlooking the Vale of Evesham. Two more Bravel generations are to be found there, Thomas snr’s father John (1550-1601) and his grandfather Thomas, who died in 1582. Both the later gentlemen are described as “Husbandmen of Saintbury” in their respective wills. Thomas the elder was my 11xG grandfather.

The search for the Bravel surname and its origins then leads to Charlton Kings, near Cheltenham. Here, the name and its variants certainly existed, and although the link to Saintbury is really conjecture rather than fact, tantalisingly, several other Bravel – connected names such as BALLARD and HORSEMAN appear in Charlton Kings and both Saintbury and Chipping Camden. For example, the elder Thomas Bravel of Saintbury had married a girl of surname Ballard. In any event, within the records for Charlton Kings there are numerous mentions of the name Bravel/Brevell/Bravell as far back as the fourteenth century. Contained in a document of unknown origin, a Walter Brevell was assessed at 2s 8d in 1327. A second Walter held a messuage and half-virgate called ‘Brevells’ c1380, and after him a third Walter c1410, and fourth c1450. Another document describes how the Brevells have left their name in the surviving timber-framed and plastered house called ‘Brevell’s Haye.’

Returning back to what I feel is the “safer ground” of Chipping Camden, I discovered from wills and other documents that Thomas Bravel (the rector) had at least four siblings. These include an older brother Richard (1608-1655;) he, unlike his more adventurous brother, appeared content to stay at home in the Market Square of Chipping Camden, taking over from his father – his house and his money. Among three sisters, Anne (1612-1656) married a Thomas BONNER in about 1605, and this branch of the family appeared to do very well for itself indeed.

Older brother Richard had six known children, and the eldest, another Anne, died unmarried. Consequently her 1657 PCC will is extremely informative, as it mentions a great many people both by name and relationship. It is, I think, one of the saddest wills I have come across while researching my family history, because at the age of only 23 Anne knew she was about to die.

From the various and numerous wills generated by this Chipping Camden family, and from other sources such as parish records and the IGI, I have been able to draw-up a pretty convincing Bravel family tree. Names connected to the family include Horseman, READ, LILY and HARRISON, and these names (including Bravel) crop up in a story of mystery and intrigue that surrounds the village of Chipping Camden to this very day. “The Camden Wonder” is an enigma that has remained unexplained for nearly 350 years. Set in one of the most turbulent periods of English history, in the mid-seventeenth century, the story revolves around a prominent local man, William Harrison, who had been out collecting rent money for his employer, but had inexplicably failed to return home.

A John PERRY is sent out to search for Harrison, but Perry does not find him. John Perry then gives a strange account of his actions, and largely on the strength of this – and the fact that Harrison does not return – John is accused of his murder. He implicated his own mother, Joan, and both were hanged on Broadwey Hill near Chipping Camden. Less than two years later, Harrison returned to Chipping Camden, with a seemingly unlikely story, claiming to have been abducted by pirates and sold into slavery in Turkey. Although there has been no shortage of theories about this strange tale, the case has never been satisfactorily resolved, and the more one reads about it the greater becomes the enigma! Conspiracy theories involving those in the highest office of the land have even been proposed. The time of Harrison’s disappearance in 1660 is set against the backdrop of the English Civil War and the Restoration, and so it is indeed fertile ground for speculation. The tale of the Campden Wonder is a mystery, and with the unlikely prospect of additional evidence emerging at this late stage, it is almost certain to remain just that.

Throughout my personal journey I have learned a great deal of history, some social history and some geography as well. I have visited places in England where I had no reason to go before, and I have met interesting and almost-always friendly people along the way. Most remarkably of all, my unknown ancestors have “come to life” in a way I find hard to believe, as I discover more and more about them.

Nowadays we are told we are but merely part of each of our forebears, passed down to us through their DNA. I am not religious, but I find it incredible, if not a little humbling, to recognise that I exist – as must we all – not merely by a fluke of luck, but by a million and one little turns of fate.

Whatever! It has been an astonishing journey, as I hope you will agree.

Lane, Moore and Bravel

A closer look at some family connections

It is I believe a common conception that those who research their family history are hopeful they might stumble upon at least one famous, and preferably wealthy, ancestor. This never once crossed my mind; I just needed to know who my ancestors were and where they came from. In the event it was enormously gratifying to discover that those of my direct male line were almost certainly farmers as far back as the early sixteenth-century, and that much later on there was a smattering of both wood-working and sea-faring blood in there too. All this makes perfect sense to me. And I now know exactly who I am, and to some extent, why I am the person I am. It is a great feeling, and I am sure many others researching their family history will concur.

During the process I have made some surprising discoveries, a few involving blood ancestors, and also some other more tenuous ancestral connections to well-known historical figures, places and events – even to writers of literature and to poets, no less. History, particularly as taught in my school-days, had singularly failed to inspire me; but now, with the search for my previously unknown family history, it has suddenly come alive.

I learned that my paternal 3xG. grandfather was another John Lane (1769-1840) a yeoman farmer of Lower Bridmore Farm, Berwick St. John in Wiltshire. Berwick St. John is a quiet, sleepy little village close to the Dorset border, a west-country picture-postcard village as one might easily imagine it – of quaint thatched cottages set against tall and colourful summer hollyhocks, or in winter, of wispy blue smoke curling up from stone chimneys into the cold still air of a frosty day. And whereas many a researcher might need to be content with a few documents such as parish records, BMD certificates and the odd will if they are lucky – I managed to hit an absolute goldmine.

John’s landlord was Thomas GROVE of Ferne. His daughter, Charlotte (1783-1860,) through her mother’s PILFORD family, was first cousin to none other than the poet Percy Bysshe Shelly. Rather late in life Charlotte married the village rector Richard DOWNES and between the years 1811-1860 she kept a diary, of which most years survive. Searching through the original diaries, now held at the Wiltshire Record Office, I found members of my Lane family mentioned in perhaps four hundred separate daily entries. As the squire’s unmarried daughter and later the rector’s wife, Charlotte had a tendency to treat parishioners as her very own, taking a great deal of interest in their everyday lives, whatever their social standing, and writing about them in her journal. So now, almost two hundred years later, I am able to draw a sketch, if not paint a picture, of John and Mansel Lane and their eight children – how they lived and farmed, who they loved and how they died; their frequent illnesses, their primitive education and the books they read. Recorded too were the tenant’s dinners – with the predictable effects of too much punch – dancing on the village green at Whitsuntide, parties, visits to Salisbury, or even to London, and trips to Shaston Fair.

I am greatly indebted to the present occupier at Bridmore for showing me around the farmhouse, which has remained tenanted and therefore virtually unchanged since those early times. There still are the eighteenth century white-painted panelled doors with original handles, the stairs leading up to the servants’ quarters in the attic and perhaps most poignantly for me, the window seats set into the thick stone walls. Here, if only in my imagination, once sat the three little Lane girls, Mansel, Betsey and Mary Ann, laughing and giggling as they sewed or read, or taking it in turns to play their piano; or where perhaps later, as young ladies, they huddled together and whispered in hushed tones the latest secrets of their respective “lovers.”

Mansel Moore Lane (1806-1861,) the first-born of these three girls, married James BRINE of Tolpuddle in 1838. A farmer of several hundred acres, James was thought unlikely to be of the same family as his more famous namesake, James Brine, the Tolpuddle Martyr. But further research revealed they were in fact first cousins. James Lane, my twice great grandfather and younger brother to Mansel, was working as a miller at Tolpuddle in 1851.

James Brine and Mansel had one child, Betsey Lane Brine, and sadly she died in 1854 aged just 14. All three are buried together at Tolpuddle with others of the Brine family on the south side of the churchyard. The badly-eroded limestone gravestones are covered with lichen, and already the inscriptions are mostly unreadable, as the stone begins to crumble and itself disappears into the past.

John Lane had married Mansel MOORE (1781-1857) at Fontmell Magna in 1805, Mansel being the only child of farmer Stafford MOORE (1781-1817) and Leah WAREHAM (1751-1795.) The Moores were part of an old-established family that had lived in and around Dorset’s Blackmoor Vale for many generations. Several Moore family wills testify to the established pattern – they were millers and yeoman farmers, and from settings similar to those as described in Thomas Hardy’s books – places and villages that include Kings Mill, Marnhull, Stalbridge, Todber, Stour Provost or Sturminster Newton. It is strange to think my ancestors might once have lived and worked in the very same dwellings, farms and mills, or perhaps frequented the inns and taverns that inspired Hardy enough to describe them in his now classic and timeless stories.

In 1640, Robert Moore (1605-1697,) my 8 x G.grandfather, was churchwarden at Marnhull, as presumably befitted his status in the community, as was later William, his eldest son. My 6xG.granfather Robert Moore (1680-1745) of the following generation, married Margaret BRAVEL at Stourpaine in 1711. At first the name Bravel meant very little to me, except that it cropped-up with increasing regularity in my research, both as a surname and as a given name, also that it was annoyingly ambiguous in its varied spelling – or more probably, mis-spelling. Nevertheless, Bravel, Bravell, Bravil, Braville or another variation, appears a most unusual name, and therefore worthy of further investigation.

Robert and Margaret had eleven known children, including an obligatory Stafford, a Mansell, a Palmer, a Bravel and a Richard Bravel. The first four of the eleven were baptised at Compton Abbas, at the church now left ruined in East Compton – to be found today down a little narrow winding lane, where there is also a farm and very little else. The remaining seven were baptised at Stour Provost, indicating perhaps a move by the family in about 1720, or possibly that the earlier children were baptised in the mother’s old parish, as was sometimes the customs in those days. Margaret, herself, was the eldest of two known surviving daughters of Richard Bravel (1650-1694,) a rector of Compton Abbas. Richard had studied at Oxford, the alumni records him as once Chaplain to the garrison of Tangiers, and later as a vicar of Welton, in Yorkshire. An interesting fellow perhaps, but as it transpired, nowhere near as interesting as his father Thomas.

To be contined…

Storm at Marnhull – 1843

In July of 1843 a severe storm brought death and destruction to the Dorset village of Marnhull. The villagers suffered thunder and lightning, accompanied by very high winds with huge hail stones raining down on them. Several men were knocked senseless by lightning and injured; John Hasket, Joseph Warren, Robert and Sara Blackmore were lying injured days after the storm and narrowly escaped the fate of one young fellow, John Fudge, who was killed outright when lightning struck them. Livestock were killed, some animals being burned alive as the hayrick they were sheltering under was struck by a bolt of lightning. The apples, plums, gooseberries, and currants were beaten off the trees; banks and walls carried away with the water, hailstones measuring three inches still remained after 24 hours.

This storm was the harbinger of worse to come though it isn’t clear how badly Dorset was damaged by the second storm that tore across the country in August, and which thundered its way from Norfolk through Cambridgeshire and on into the Midlands. Following this second storm the General Hail Insurance Company was formed, later to become Norwich Union.

In the late 18th and early 19th century it was not unusual for people to live out their lives where they were born, their history recorded in the registers of just one parish church. So it was for John Fudge the second son of Samuel and Elizabeth Fudge; he was followed into this world by another brother and five sisters. His life, though, was cruelly extinguished by the storm.

John was baptised at Marnhull on the 8th of December 1816. On the 25th of February 1837, he married a girl from the parish, Frances Abigail White. Four years older than John, she was baptised at the church on the 18th of May 1812. In their turn they took their first child Henry to be baptised on Christmas Day 1839, a duty they performed for George White, their second son, on 19th of November, 1842.

The following year proved disastrous for this small family. The Register of Burials at Marnhull records that John Fudge at the age of just 26 years was buried on the 16th of July 1843 and worse was to follow. Henry we think may have pre-deceased his father and George, while still a babe in arms, lost his mother a few weeks later; her burial was recorded on the 22nd of October 1843 with no second chance of happiness for her. Sadly there is every reason to think George didn’t survive infancy.

We know about this devastating storm from a letter sent from Marnhull on the 16th of July 1843. Written by William Lewis and addressed to his daughter Mary Ward who he asks to pass it on to her brother John: they both lived in King Street, Wimborne Minster.

Mary was married to George Ward a Tallow Chandler and Robert the son of Mary’s brother Edward was Ward’s apprentice: George and Mary had a son and a daughter. John Lewis was married and employed as a Rural Post Messenger; he was married to Sarah Masterman Fripp; the couple had three sons and three daughters.

William and Lydia Lewis, just like John Fudge, were both born and lived out their lives in Marnhull achieving their allotted three score years and ten by a distance. William, baptised on 1st of February, 1778 was the son of Thomas and Mary Lewis and Lydia, baptised on 2nd of April 1782, was the daughter of Edward and Lydia Young. William and Lydia married at Marnhull on the 22nd of February 1810 and they had four children: Edward (1810); Mary (1813); John (1815); and Elizabeth (1821). We learn from the census of 1851 that William was a Hosier and Lydia a Dressmaker. We know William was literate and the Militia List tells us he was 5’4” tall. William’s passing is recorded in the Marnull Burial Register on 10th of August 1860 and Lydia, the Register reveals, was buried five months later on 28th of December 1860.

William Lewis’s graphic description of the storm continues “…there was another wagon near where William Galpen and Edward Acouts sister-in-law was and seeing what was happening they ran and dragged them out, else they could all have been burnt to death as all of them struck senseless and some crippled.. Mr Foox was coming that way and says he never witnessed such a scene.” And he goes on to say “…your dear Mother was in the pantry on her knees praying for herself and her dear children…”