Nicholas Hedges

Art, Writing and Research

Mary Holdship

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From reading William Holdship’s Will (1757), we can glean that he had 4 children:

John
Thomas
Mary (married to Thomas King)
Kitty

In Mary’s will, written in 1770, we read that everything was left solely to her daughter Kitty, wife of a farmer in Iffley called John White.

One wonders why everything was left to her, indeed there is no mention at all of John, Thomas or Mary. Had there been a family dispute? We know that Thomas was living abroad at the time William wrote his will in 1757, so it’s possible that he remained so. The other possibility of course is that all the other children were dead by the time Mary wrote her will.

What is particularly interesting about the Mary’s original will is the fact it appears to be written in her own hand.

mary-holdship-nee-borton-1770-o

It’s very strange to see the hand of one of your distant ancestors, a woman (my 7x great-aunt) born in 1697. It’s been written many times how our existences are so incredibly unlikely, and looking at documents such as these, where one can see the passage of a short moment of time through the flow of someone’s writing, one’s very existence seems to hang, literally, on every word.

William Holdship

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In Samuel Borton’s will we read:

and Mr Holdship his heirs or assigns to pay their share according to my father’s will for the house that Mr Robinson lives in which was my sister Mary’s past

I found the will (1757) of a William Holdship, farrier …

william-holdship-02

…in which I read the following:

I give devise and bequeath unto my son John Holdship all that tenement situate on Magdalen Parish in the said City of Oxford now in the occupation of William Robertson to hold unto my said son John Holdship from and immediately after the decease of my loving wife Mary Holdship…

Could William Robertson be the Mr Robinson in Samuel’s will?

In Richard’s will of 1714 we read:

I give my Daughter Mary the House next Mr Phipps house

This doesn’t give us a parish but I can’t help but think that Mary Borton must have married William Holdship.

Samuel Borton’s Last Will and Testament 1769

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Transcript of Samuel Borton’s will 1769.

In the name of God Amen I Samuel Borton of the Parish of Saint Mary Magdalen Innkeeper near the city of Oxford being in health of body and of sound and disposing mind and memory do make and ordain this my last Will and Testament in writing in manner and form following that is to say first and principally I bequeath my soul unto the hands of Almighty God my Heavenly Father assuredly hoping through the merits of Death and Passion of my only Saviour and Redeemer Jesus Christ to receive remission and forgiveness of my sins and transgressions My wretched body in hopes of a joyfull[sic] resurrection I commit to the Earth from when it came decently to be buried at the discretion of any Executrix herein after named and as touching the distribution of that worldly estate which it hath pleased almighty God to bless me with after my debts and funeral charges defrayed I dispose thereof as followeth Imprimis I give and bequeath unto my son Samuel Borton my house called the Dolphin Inn in the parish of St. Mary Magdalen with the Brewhouse wash house Stables yards and gardens with the Coach house belonging to it and my son Samuel Borton to pay to my Daughter Fanney the sum of Thirty pounds within one year and a half after he is possessed of his Estate ITEM I give to my son Richard Borton my house in St. Peter in the East and the garding[sic] belonging to it now in the possession of Mr Taylor Cabinet Maker ITEM I give to my son William Borton my house in St. Peter in the East next to the Eagle and Child now in the possession of Mr. Dry and the two rooms over Mr. Dry’s shop now in the possession of Mt Smith the Shoemaker ITEM I give to my daughter Lydia my house in St. Mary Magdalen Parish and the garding belonging to it now in the possession of Mr Chitto and likewise the next tenement with the garding belonging to it and the two acres in St Giles Fields called the Dolphin Acres ITEM I give to my Daughter Margaret Borton my house in St Peter in the East next to the Angel Inn now in the possession of Mr King the mason and the house and yard and Garding joining to it in the possession of Mr Mace the Taylor ITEM I give to my daughter Fanny my house in St Peter in the East next door to Mr Watson’s now in the possession of Mr Baggs the Taylor and the house in the yard with the out House opposite to it both which Mr Bissell rented of me and my son Samuel Borton shall pay to the Beedsman Twenty pounds a year for the Dolphin Inn and when it is to be renewed to the city (illegible): my daughter Lydia her heirs or assigns shall pay their share answerable to the income of her two houses and the two acres in St. Giles Fields and Mr Holdship his heirs or assigns to pay their share according to my father’s will for the house that Mr Robinson lives in which was my sister Mary’s past and the things hereafter mentioned to be left as Standards in the Dolphin Inn (?) and hooks the fixed grates the mantel shelves (?) cupboards and the rest of my children, Richard Margaret William and Fanny to pay their share when my houses in St. Peter in the East are to be renewed(?) and the yearly quit rent according to the income of what I have left each of them ITEM I give to my three daughters twenty pounds a piece and if I have not ready money enough by me to pay them it shall be allowed them out of any goods and chattels when the twenty pounds is paid each of my Daughters Lydia Margaret and Fanny and then what remains in money all the rest of my goods and chattels shall be equally divided amongst all my children and I make all my children joint executors and executrixes of this my last will and testament In (?) whereof I have set my hand and seal the Eighteenth day of January in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and sixty eight Samuel Borton in the presence of us who have signed the same in his presence when he sealed and signed it Thephs Wharton James Slater

Richard Borton’s Last Will and Testament 1714

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richard-borton_1714-registered-will-1

Transcript of Richard Borton’s will 1714.

In the name of God Amen I Richd Borton of the Parish of Holywell all is (?) St. Cross’s near the City of Oxon yeoman being in health of body and sound and disproving mind and memory do make and ordain this my last Will and Testament in writing in manner and form following (that is to say) first and principally I bequeath my soul unto the Hands of almighty God my Heavenly father assuredly hoping thro’ the merits Death and Passion of my only Saviour and Redeemer, Jesus Xt to receive remission and forgiveness of all my sins and and transgressions My retched[sic] body in hope of a joyful resurrection I commit to the Earth from whence it came decently to be buried at the direction of my Executors herein after named and as touching the distribution of that worldly estate which it hath pleased Almighty God to bless me after my debts and funeral charges are defray’d (illegible) as followeth ITEM I give and bequeath unto my dear and loving wife Mary all my Freehold, Copyhold and Leasehold Estate that I shall die (seized?) wheresoever ye same (illegible) during her life ITEM I give and bequeath to my son Richd Borton my House and Brewhouse Barnes[sic] and Stables and Eleven acres of land in Cowley Parish I bought of Mr Loveday and my Son Richard shall pay my Daughter Ann twenty pounds and my Daughter Elizabeth twenty pounds within the year that he shall be possessed of his estate ITEM I give my son Samuel the Dolphin Inn and the two tenements on the north side and two acres in Saint Giles field called the Dolphin Acres ITEM I give my Daughter Mary the House next Mr Phipps house and my son Samuel shall pay my Daughter Mary twenty pounds within a year after he hath the Inn and my son Samuel shall pay the Beedsman and when they renew to the city Mary on her heirs or assigns shall pay according to that income ITEM I give to my Daughter Ann my house in St. Clement’s with the forest(?) money belonging to it ITEM I give my Daughter Elizabeth my House and Barn and Smiths shop and Garden over against my Brewhouse ITEM I give my daughter Martha my six acres of land in Headington Field with the Cottages Commons belonging to them and a clove(?) at Cowley now called the Hop Yard on (illegible) and if my son Richard will not surrender the six acres and the house as I have directed ye he shall pay my daughter Ann seven score pounds more than I have directed before and my Daughter Martha fourscore pounds if he doth not (illegible) to her. I leave my Ash house which now stands where the dog kennell[sic] formerly stood to my wife to be disposed of either in the payment of debts or otherwise as she shall think convenient and if it shall please God if any one of my children die before they come to possession of what I leave herein by my will allotted to (them?) then shall they share or (illegible) or Estates belonging or by my will so given and bequeathed  to him or her so dying be divided equally to the rest of them that shall be the survivors. And my loving wife shall enjoy all my Estate so bequeathed unto her during the term of her life if she lives a widow but if she marry then each and every one of my children shall enter upon and take possession of what I have herein by my will bequeathed unto them so soon as she shall marry and if my stock that I leave behind me do not prove sufficient to pay and discharge what debts I owe at the time of my Death and my Funeral charges then shall every one of my children bear a proportionable charge according to what I have hereby given to them of the payment and the discharge of the same and so the intent that this may be known to be my last will and testament revoking hereby all former wills whatsoever by me made I have hereunto set my hand and seal this Seventeenth day of December in the year of our Lord One thousand seven hundred and fourteen Richard Borton signed sealed and attested to be the last will and testament of the above named Richd Borton in the presence of us who have signed the same in his presence when he sealed and signed it Mary Gardner, Tom (illegible), Tho. Cave

Wills

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Having discovered that my 6 x great-grandfather Samuel Borton owned The Dolphin Inn (which stood on St. Giles, Oxford), I was pleased today to discover his and his father’s wills. Samuel was born in 1706 and died in Oxford in 1769, leaving behind a fair few houses and bits of lands to be divided up amongst his children.

The image below shows his original will:

I was pleased to read the following which confirmed my previous research:

“I bequeath unto my son Samuel Borton my house called ye Dolphin Inn in the parish of St. Mary Magdalen with ye Brewhouse, Washhouse, Stables and Gardings with Coach House belonging to it.”

I was surprised at how many properties he owned in the city including a house in “St. Peters ye East next to ye Eagle and Child”; another house in St. Mary Magdalen which he bequeathed (along with two acres in St. Giles’ fields called Dolphin Acres) to my 5 x great-grandmother Lydia Stevens. He also owned a house next to the Angel Inn on the High Street (pictured below in 1820).

When I examined the will of his father Richard, who died in Oxford in 1714, I found that the same properties were listed in his will and that he had himself owned the Dolphin Inn. The first page of his registered will can found below:

But what I was particularly thrilled to see was an example of Samuel’s handwriting in the form of his signature.

The Lawn and the Woods

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I remember as a small boy how my Nana would on occasion take me and my older brother to where she worked as a Housekeeper. The house was – at far as I recall – a big, white, Modernist building with a large well-kept lawn at the rear. But what I remember most was the wood which stood at the edge of the garden. I can see it now – that contrast between the manicured lawn and the wild dark of the trees, and with the work that I’ve been doing on gardens, trees and contrasts, this particular memory has suddenly sprung to life.

Indeed, given what I’ve written about childhood landscapes, this memory seems even more relevant. 
On Google Maps, I looked to see if I could find the house, and I believe it’s shown in the image below.


You can see the house and the lawn (which wasn’t perhaps quite as well-kept as I’d remembered) and the encroaching woods surrounding it. 

Centenary

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100 years ago, on 8th May 1915, my great-great-uncle was killed in the Second Battle of Ypres.


I’ve written before about this photograph and in particular its location; the idea of the garden as a shared space of memory and experience. Recently, in our own garden we had to have an apple tree taken down due to the fact it had been hollowed out by heart-rot and was in danger of toppling over. I asked for the trunk of the tree to be save in one piece, and when I saw it on the ground, I was reminded again of the idea of gardens as described above.

The trunk of the tree resembled a torso missing its head and limbs.


There was something interesting in the way the bark had grown over a length of wire which had been wrapped around the trunk years ago. It called to mind the cascading lengths of barbed wire rolled out in front of the trenches. It also seemed to turn the trunk into a corpse.

At the same time the tree Is symbolic of a lost idyll; that of the garden of childhood memories.

One day in 1845

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The fact that we exist, as the individuals we are, is mind-boggling. Go back 8 generations and you’ll discover that you have 256 great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparents. Go back to the start of the 1600s and you’ll discover that you owe your existence to 1,024 people who were alive at the time; 2,046 including those who came after.

No-one of course lives their lives in isolation. We spend every day interacting with friends, family or strangers, and as such, all those people too have influenced our coming-into-being.

My 9th great-grandfather, Gabriel Baines (born in 1610) was one of 1,024 people alive around the time on whom my existence has depended. Factor into that equation, that everything (and I mean everything) those 1,024 people did in the early 1600s had to be done exactly as it was, then you begin to appreciate how extremely unlikely you are. (Extrapolate this out and one could say that everything that everyone did had to be done as it was for any of us to be born who were are.)

Leaping ahead from the early seventeenth century to the mid 19th century I find my great-great-great-grandparents. Since beginning my research in 2007 I have discovered all 32 of them. Imagine then a day in 1845. All 32 of these individuals were living in England and Wales (their ages and place of residence at the time shown in brackets).

Richard Hedges (37 – Dorchester, Oxfordshire)
Ann Hedges née Jordan (38 – Dorchester, Oxfordshire)
Elijah Noon (27 – Oxford, Oxfordshire)
Charlotte Noon née White (26 – Oxford, Oxfordshire)
William Lafford (21 – Ampney St Peter, Gloucestershire)
Elizabeth Timbrill (18 – Minety, Gloucestershire)
Abel Wilson (27 – Ampney Crucis, Gloucestershire)
Hester Wilson née Pillinger (22- Ampney Crucis, Gloucestershire)

Alexander Jones (44 – Mynyddyslwyn, Monmouthshire)
Martha Jones née Harries (27 – Mynyddyslwyn, Monmouthshire)
Edmund Jones (28 – Trevethin, Monmouthshire)
Sarah Jones née Jones (27 – Trevethin, Monmouthshire)
Enos Rogers (4 – Clutton, Somerset)
Jane Tovey (4 – Llanfoist, Monmouthshire)
Alfred Brooks (7 – Bettws, Monmouthshire)
Ruth Waters (5 – Machen, Monmouthshire)

John Stevens (33 – Reading, Berkshire)
Elizabeth Stevens (28 – Reading, Berkshire)
Charles Shackleford (28 – Reading, Berkshire)
Mary Ann Jones (20 – Reading, Berkshire)
John Thompson (31 – West Walton, Norfolk)
Maria Thompson née Hubbard (33 – West Walton, Norfolk)
William Baines (20 – Gainsborough, Lincolnshire,)
Martha Baines née Moore (20 – Gainsborough, Lincolnshire,)

George Sarjeant (31 – Lewes, Sussex)
Sarah Sarjeant (39 – Lewes, Sussex)
James Barnes (23 – Arlington, Sussex)
Eliza Barnes née Deadman (21 – Arlington, Sussex)
Henry White (46 – Brighton, Sussex)
Mary Ann White née Ellis (29 – Brighton, Sussex)
John Vigar (36 – Worth, Sussex)
Elizabeth Vigar née Simmons (33- Worth, Sussex)

For a bit of background: in 1845 the Prime Minister was Robert Peel. On 15th March the first University Boat Race took place and on 1st May the first cricket match as the Oval was played. The rubber band was patented and the last fatal duel between two Englishmen was fought on English soil. Potato blight in Ireland saw the start of the Great Famine.

The Gesture of Mourning

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Graveyards and cemeteries have always fascinated me. The feeling I have when entering them, is much the same as when I enter a museum, a sense of calm mixed with expectation as I wonder whose story or stories I’ll encounter.

Graveyards are archives; the headstones, documents on which we find the names and dates of those who’ve gone before us. But they are much more than that.

My family tree is an archive, one currently comprising almost 1,000 individuals. Poring through documents (albeit ones which are digitised), I discover names, locations and dates, much as you do when walking through a graveyard.

Thomas Noon was my great-great-great-great-uncle. He was born in Burton Dassett, Warwickshire in 1795. He was baptised there on 20th September.

At some point between 1824 (the birth of his daughter Betsy) and 1830 (the birth of his son Thomas) he moved with his family to Oxford.

In 1841 Thomas spent census night away from Oxford, but we find him in 1851, along with his second wife Ann.

By this time Thomas had already buried his first wife Mary (1832 or 1840) and their three daughters – Emilia (1837), Eliza (1846) and Betsy (1850). In September of this census year, Thomas would also bury his son, killed in a train crash at Bicester. In 1852, tragedy would strike again when his brother Elijah killed his own wife with a sword at their house in Jericho.

Thomas died in 1863 at his home in Little Clarendon Street.

Through archive sources we can piece together his life, in censuses, baptism records, probate records and newspapers.

As we consider his terrible losses, we can sympathise with him but standing at his grave, the one he shares with his son Thomas and his daughter Betsy, that sympathy turns to empathy.


Like the name Thomas Noon, found in the documents described above, we find the name on his gravestone (below), weathered and worn to almost nothing (NB the name Thomas Noon and Betsy have been enhanced).

I can trace his name with my finger, and as I stand there, looking down at the grave, everything changes. I might be thinking, but my body is mourning.

First Betsy and then Thomas Jr were buried in that very grave over a decade before their father. How many times in those intervening years did Thomas stand where I was standing, looking down at that same patch of ground, thinking of his children? It’s as if, standing there over 150 years later, with the bearing of a mourner,  I not only find Thomas within my imagination; I find myself within him too.

I can imagine him there, listening as I can to the wind in the trees. He sees the same late-winter sun and feels its warmth on his face. I can, as I have done, read about his children and their untimely deaths. I can read about him. But standing at their grave, my imagined versions of them are augmented by the gesture of my body.

They move in that space where the boundary between imagination and memory is blurred.

Thomas Noon’s Grave

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I’ve just been to visit the grave of my great-great-great-great-uncle, Thomas Noon (1795-1863) in St. Sepulchre’s cemetery, Jericho.

Buried with him are his children, Betsy Markham née Noon (1824-1850) and Thomas Noon (1830-1851) who was killed in a train crash at Bicester.

Not far from the cemetery is Freud cafe, once St Paul’s church and the place where Eliza Noon married William Cartwright (1842) and Betsy Noon married Thomas Markham (1844).

Thomas Noon (1795-1863)

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Having scanned the pages of Jackson’s Oxford Journal for more information on my great-great-great-great-uncle Thomas Noon, I decided to Google his name whereupon I came across the St Sepulchre’s website which contains a great deal of information on him and his family (St. Sepulchre’s being the cemetery in which they are buried).

I knew a little about Thomas (see The Victorians) such as the fact his son – also Thomas – was killed in a train accident in Bicester in 1851, but I didn’t realise just how much his family suffered in the few years before and after.

Thomas was married to Mary Flecknoe in Daventry on 14 August 1820. Their children included:

Eliza Noon (born 1821)
Betsey Noon (born 1824)
Thomas Noon (born 1830)
Emilia Noon (born 1832)

Mary Noon died before 1841 and there are, according to the St. Sepulchre’s website entry two possible burials:

Mary Noon who died at the age of 36 in 1832 (buried in St Thomas’s churchyard on 29 November), and Mary Ann Noon, stated to be of Jericho, who died at the age of 39 in 1840 (buried at St Peter-in-the-East churchyard on 3 May).

My hunch would be that our Mary Noon is the first of these. I can’t quite see why she would be buried in St. Peter-in-the-East, even though it states that that particular Mary was of Jericho. Given the date of 1832 – the year Emilia was born – it could be she died in childbirth. It would appear that Emilia herself died in 1837.

Two of Thomas’ daughters were married in the early 1840s at St. Paul’s church, which is now Freud’s cafe.

On 13 January 1842 at St Paul’s Church, Eliza Noon married William Cartwright, a coal dealer. They had both been living in part of the same house in Clarendon Street, and Eliza was described as being the the daughter of Thomas Noon, publican.

On 15 August 1844 at St Paul’s Church, Betsey Noon married Thomas Markham, a tailor, born in Oxford in c.1820. Both were described as being of Clarendon Street, and their marriage was announced in Jackson’s Oxford Journal.


Then came several tragic years for Thomas Noon.

Eliza disappears after the 1841 census, and may be the Elizabeth Cartwright who died in the Jericho district at the age of 24. She was buried in St Giles’s churchyard on 25 January 1846.

Betsey died 4 years later, at the age of 26 and was buried in St. Sepulchre’s.

A year later, Thomas (Jr) was killed in a train crash at Bicester. He was buried with his sister, his funeral described in Jackson’s Oxford Journal.

The following year, 1852, his brother, Elijah, killed his wife in Jericho. Thomas died in 1863 and was buried in the same grave as his son Thomas and his daughter Betsey.

512-1

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I remember how delighted I was when I discovered my 6 x great-grandfather Samuel Borton who ran the Dolphin Inn, Oxford, sometime during the 18th century. I felt a connection with him and, perhaps more importantly to the site of the inn he ran.

Then I discovered his father, Richard, who died (possibly in Holywell, Oxford where Samuel was born) in December 1714 when Samuel was just 8 years old. Imagining this man as a relative, as one might think of one’s grandparents or great-grandparents (if one was lucky enough to know them), I had to remind myself recently, that Richard Borton was just one of 512 people alive at the turn of the 17th and 18th centuries from whom I’m directly descended.

To think of it another way. Imagine that in the year 2315, my direct descendent is born, then there are 511 people – including, of course, my wife – alive today who will also play a direct part in that person’s birth.

Silence

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In a previous blog, looking at a photograph of Jonah Rogers, I mentioned Roland Barthes’ concept of Punctum; “…that accident which pricks me (but also bruises me, is poignant to me)…” In that photograph (reproduced below) I found it (that poignancy) in the left foot and the missing brick of the flower bed.

In my last blog, in the newspaper clipping reporting Jonah’s death, there is also an especially poignant moment – the clipping’s punctum as it were. And it’s this:

“On Sunday last, at the close of the evening service, the Society Meeting was held, and references to the death of Private Rogers were made by several members of the Church. Private Rogers’s mother is one of the oldest members of the Church. The meeting passed a vote of condolence with the relatives, all present standing in silence.”

It’s there in the last line: The meeting passed a vote of condolence with the relatives, all present standing in silence. 

The past is silent (as the tomb which it becomes) and that silence of the relatives, beating inside the church, is one hewn from that immense quietude; a grave cut into another grave. And yet it’s all the louder for it. Imagining the scene, one can hear the silence, punctuated by coughs, scrapes and fidgeting bodies (it’s amazing to think that my grandmother, then three years old, might have been there). There is something too in the silence which serves to throw into relief the image of my ancestors. The writing sets them apart from the rest of those gathered inside. They are silent and just as one imagines those everyday sounds from which silence is made, one can imagine those relatives, standing and recalling everyday things about Jonah… And it’s there that we can get a better picture of Jonah than we can from any photograph.

It’s almost as if the words in that penultimate paragraph, describe something entirely different. One can almost imagine the vote of condolence, the kind words spoken, coming only as murmurs to the relatives; all made shapeless by their mournful introspection.

The Dolphin Inn

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After my last post about my 6 x great-grandfather, Samuel Borton’s residence, I wanted to see if I could find out the name of the inn he owned, which, I now knew stood at the southern end of St. Giles. In a book of old Oxford photographs, which I bought a few years back, I found the following image:

It shows St. John’s college and a building next door called the Dolphin building, which at the time of this photograph c1870 was part of the college. The text beneath the photograph stated that it had once been an inn, and digging a little deeper, I discovered that it had indeed been the Dolphin Inn.

This then is a photograph of my 6 x great-grandfather’s inn before it was demolished.

The engraving below, is that of the same inn, made in 1779, probably at the time when my ancestor was resident.

More on Samuel Borton in 1772

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Following on from my last post on Samuel Borton’s residence, I’ve found evidence confirming where he lived. The following image shows his name in the survey:

I took the photo below whilst standing in my bus queue this evening. It shows the row of buildings which, I believe, stand on the site of those buildings once occupied by Messrs Morrel, Fidler and my ancestor, Borton.

Looking at a plan from the 1772 survey – which I’d photocopied several years ago – I discovered that this is indeed the site of my ancestors dwelling.

The following is a close up of the top left hand corner.

The name in the ‘box’ next to Balliol College is Mr. Morrell, which when we look at the list at the top of the page is the first name after Balliol College. His property would have stood approximately where the orange-brown neo-classical building stands now. Four yards to the left would have been Mr Fidler’s property and occupying the land next to that would have been my ancestor’s property, which I believe was an inn.

Samuel Borton in 1772

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I have recently written about John Gwynn’s survey of Oxford (1772) in relation to my family tree research (see Lydia Stevens 1734-1822) and have discovered another ancestor in the same survey. Lydia’s father, Samuel Borton was, at the time of her birth, an innkeeper in Mary Magdalen Parish. Lydia married John Stevens in the church of St. Mary Magdalen in 1764, and I wondered therefore whether Samuel Borton would be listed in Gwynn’s survey? Sure enough, in Magdalen parish, close to Balliol College, a Mr. Borton is listed as the owner of a property measuring 15 yards wide.

I need to get a copy of H.E. Salter’s Survey of Oxford in 1772 with Maps and Plans to work out where exactly this is (the above extract is from Google books). However, it might be that as we have [Here Broad St.] and given that the length of Balliol College is given as 140 yards (128 metres), that Mr. Borton’s property is on the north side Broad Street. But then Balliol College, west end would seem to be that part of the college shown in yellow below. In which case Mr. Borton’s property would actually be nearer St. Giles.

Having looked up Broad Street in Google Earth, I decided to use the measuring tool to see if that would help. The yellow lines are both approximately 140 yards long.

Superimposing the 1750 map above onto Google Earth, we get the following:

A closer look:

Samuel Borton (1706 – ?)

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During a quick research session in the library this lunchtime, I tried to discover the birth date of my 6 x great-grandfather, Samuel Borton. Having trawled through the indexes for St. Martin’s parish, St. Mary Magdalen, St. Peter le Bailey and St. Mary the Virgin, I turned to that for Holywell parish. In there I discovered a Samuel Borton born in 1706. His father was listed as Richard and in the time I had, I discovered two siblings called Ann (b.1693) and Mary (b.1703).

From the index it’s hard to say for sure that this Richard Borton is the father of my Samuel Borton, but the name isn’t common and, in line with what I described yesterday, another piece of evidence could be gleaned from the names of Samuel’s own children.

His first son was called Samuel (1737 – ); his second son, surely named after his grandfather – Richard, born in 1739.

John and Samuel

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The name of a first born son or daughter is a good way of confirming whether or not your research, as regards a particular family line, is on the right track, and this has been the case with my current research into the Stevens line (my mother’s father’s line) of my family tree.

The father of my 3 x great-grandfather, John Stevens (1811-1876) was, I believe, a Samuel Stevens (1776-1841) and his father in turn was another John Stevens (1737-1803).

The name John is clearly important. John (1737-1803) named his first son John. He appears to have died in infancy as John’s fourth son (seventh child) was also named John. Sadly, this child also seems to have died in infancy; the couple’s fifth son (eighth child) was also named John. The couple’s third son (fourth child) was named Samuel (b1769) who again appears to have died in childhood. Another Samuel (my direct ancestor and the couple’s ninth child) was born seven years later in 1776. This shows that the name Samuel was also important.

This Samuel (1776-1841) had several children including a Samuel (first son, born in 1808) and a John (my direct ancestor born in 1811). John also had many children; his first born was John (1837-1888) and his second son was Samuel (1839-1919). My direct ancestor, Jabez (1847-1899) also had children, none of whom were called John or Samuel. Indeed, the name doesn’t appear again in my direct family line. One reason for this falling out of favour might be that John Stevens (1837-1888) spent much of the last part of his life in Moulsford Asylum. With the loss of his income his wife Emma entered a workhouse with two of her children, Martha and Kate, where she died of cancer in 1873.

The important point is that my 3 x great-grandfather’s second son was Samuel; it links him with the Samuel Stevens who I believe to be my 4 x great-grandfather. But where does the name Samuel come from? Why was it so important?

Going through the Oxfordshire parish indexes last week I discovered the following: my 5 x great-grandfather John Stevens (1737-1803) was married to Lydia Borton (1734-1822) in the church of St. Mary Magdalen on 24th March 1764. The witnesses are given as Sam Borton and Mary Stevens. In the records I discovered that Lydia’s father was Samuel Borton, an innkeeper in the parish of St. Mary Magdalen. So, that must be where the name comes from as regards its important in the Stevens line.

The elusive Samuel Stevens (1776 – ?)

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I’ve turned my attention to my 4 x great-grandfather Samuel Stevens who I know was born in Oxford in 1776. I know too that he married a woman called Mary and that they had a child called John (my 3 x great-grandfather) in 1811.

In the library this afternoon I tried to find details of other children they might have had and the date and location of their wedding; however I couldn’t find anything save for details of a daughter, Frances, born in St. Aldate’s Parish in 1809, two years before John. However that was it, which led me to suspect that either one or both had died after John’s birth, or that they had moved away – which seemed the more likely.

Given that John lived in Reading for much of his life, it seemed plausible that it was actually his parents who moved some time after his birth in 1811. Searching through the records online, I eventually found a Samuel Stevens who married a Mary Pecover in St. Lawrence Parish, Reading on May 14th 1807. This I’m sure must be my ancestor; not only does the place fit – along with the name of his wife – but the date of the wedding – two years before the birth of Frances – also fits the wider picture. It seems therefore that having married Mary in Reading, they moved to Oxford but left shortly after to return to Reading.

© Nicholas Hedges 2024