Burridge | Life in the English Cotswolds

In Part 1 of my review I began by saying words to the effect of life is for living – and when you become older there’s even less time to waste! The result of following my own advice is that part 2 of the review is a couple of weeks late in being published. than I would have liked

Keeping active was also part of the theme of a couple of my blog posts last year, specifically about England’s network of public footpaths. Although we Brits just accept them as part of our historic right to walk across privately-owned land, it seems that for a great part of the world, this would not be an option. My American friends and readers in particular find it hard to comprehend that we can walk across someone else’s property at will (assuming a public footpath crosses it) without confrontation. Many of our footpaths link villages and farms and so, on occasion, you may find yourself walking through someone’s garden or farmyard. The history behind the right to walk and what you can and can’t do was discussed in November’s post which can be found by clicking the link here.

*Walking on designated footpaths across privately-owned land is a basic right in England and Wales*

A few month’s earlier in August, I wrote of a walk that I had taken across fields, through woods and down country lanes back to my home in the secret valley. It was a lovely walk with the first signs of autumn colouring the trees and hedgerows which were laden with wild fruits and berries. After the noise and bustle of harvest, the fields were quiet and I met no-one for much of the walk. I prefer it that way for it is then, walking in silence, that you are likely to come across the wild birds and animals that also share this space, To follow the route that I took and to see the beautiful creatures I encountered click here.

*When walking quietly you come across the wild creatures that live there*

I have lived in the country all my life and my father was very much the epitome of the ‘English country gent’. My mother remained a ‘townie’ all her life (she had been brought up in the West End of London) and we both teased her mercilessly about her lack of knowledge of country ways. When she met and married my father it must have come as quite a culture shock to find herself living in a small, close-knit community where everyone knew one another and one another’s business. Neither of my parents were walkers but as a child they would drive my sister and I out to Turville Heath. Over time the heath became my place of refuge whenever I was in need of comfort or in need of re-charging the batteries. It would also be the place for summer walks, playing cricket and picnics. Of equal importance as the heath itself was the car journey out to it – past miniature farm and other magic moments that we children couldn’t get enough of. Click October’s link here to find out more.

*My father, very much the country gent despite not liking guns!*

Looking back even further in time, I explored the lives of ancestral aunts, uncles and cousins. They had been born, married and died in a village very close to the where I had been raised for our family have lived in the area for at least five hundred years. Discovering their stories had been quite a revelation – for my 3rd great-grandaunt had been about to marry in the local church when she gave birth to a child. The repercussion of this – for the child was obviously not that of the grooms – was far-reaching. Devastated Thomas cancelled the wedding and did something rather surprising shortly afterward, as told in September’s blog post. What happened to disgraced Ann? And what happened to poor Henry, the baby boy, who lived with the stigma of his birth? Was it this that took him down the path of self-destruction and a young death many thousands of miles from home in ….. – well, you’ll need to click on the link to find out what, when and where!

*The village church where Thomas & Ann were to wed in 1809*

So, what will 2025 bring, I wonder? World politics seems to be on the news with constant and often seemingly bizarre twists and turns unsettling many of us. I’m quite good at not getting too worked up about things that I have no control over. Fortunately, I live and work in stunningly beautiful countryside and my interest in family history has taught me that life carries on regardless of turmoil all around us. I shall continue to write about my adventures (if that isn’t too strong a word to describe them). I also have a couple of writing projects to see to, and of course, there are my garden projects too. In dues course, they may appear on these pages. As with all my blogs, there are lots of photos to view so why not take a look and please do comment as appropriate.

I wonder when Henry started going ‘off the rails.’ Was it down to his parentage? Perhaps living in the small, Thames-side village of Medmenham, where everyone knew one another and so would have known the story behind his birth, may have been a factor. Or was this considered too shameful to be ever spoken of openly again. Whatever, the cause, by 1838 he already had a string of petty offences under his belt when once again he found himself standing in front of the Buckinghamshire Assizes for larceny.

Poor Henry’s troubles really began before he was even born. His mother, Ann Chown, planned to marry local lad Thomas Burridge in the village church in the May of 1809 but on the 14^th, halfway through the Banns being called, Thomas had them cancelled. He had discovered that Ann was pregnant with Henry, the father being another village boy, Elias Nibbs. Ann had very nearly got away with her deception for Henry had been born and baptised by 4^th June. Ann and Elias never married nor, it seems, lived together, for within a short time they had both married others.

Henry couldn’t have been a clever thief for, on the 4^th April 1838, he was sentenced to six months imprisonment with hard labour for the theft of an axe and mattock from William Chown, his uncle, and a billhook from John Rockall, his stepfather. He was even less clever when he tried his hand at burglary again despite travelling four miles to the local town of Marlow for his crime. This time he stole a shovel, the property of William Brangwin and so, within weeks of being freed from jail, in November he was back before the bench once again.

Standing before the magistrate, Squire Robert Hammond, Henry heard how the shovel was readily identified by Brangwin’s initials being burnt into the handle. Richard Ayres testified that he had been using it on the day of the theft and Thomas Wright, the local pawnbroker told how Henry (using the alias Beaver) pawned it for one shilling – 5p in modern coinage. Hammond was not prepared to give Henry another chance. For this crime he was sentenced to seven years transportation to Australia. It would be interesting to know how the family and villagers reacted to the sentence. Perhaps it was relief for most but more likely, for his mother Ann, it was harrowing.

Henry was taken from prison on 13^th May 1839 to Sheerness, a port east of London, where he boarded Convict Ship Parkfield. There were already one hundred prisoners aboard and now it was filled to capacity with the addition of one hundred and forty more men. A military guard of over thirty kept order and six women and nine children also boarded – as this was a male convict ship, one assumes they were planning to join loved ones or just hoping to seek a better life. The voyage was better than normal; with no storms the sea remained calm. When they arrived at Port Jackson, New South Wales, on 1^st September, the ship’s Surgeon, Alexander Neill was commended for the cleanliness of the ship and the health of the men for there had been no deaths. Interestingly, in his Journal he mentions that he had rejected one prisoner with scurvy: “one of the worst cases I’ve ever seen and him, not yet at sea.” The convicts were taken ashore to Hyde Park Barracks for processing. We hear nothing more of Henry until the 29^th May 1840 – a simple entry in the register: Henry Chown, drowned, Sydney. No further details were given.

*Details of Henry’s, and others, crimes listed in the 1838 Register*

What became of Ann, Thomas Burridge and Elias Nibbs? Ann married John Rockall in 1811 and had nine children, dying in 1872, aged 85. Elias married in 1813 and had one known child, Richard, before he disappears from the scene. Interestingly, a Richard Nibbs was also transported on the same ship as Henry – were they half-brothers in crime? And Thomas Burridge? He obviously recovered from the upset for within eight months he had married Ann’s younger sister Mary. They had seven children before Mary died in 1828. He later married again and fathered three more children. For such a small place, Medmenham, had its fair share of scandal and excitement!

*Henry Chown – drowned. The last entry in the Convict Deaths Register*

I have been researching my family history for many years and have uncovered all sorts of stories. There seems to be a disproportionate number of ancestors that had illustrious careers, reaching both fame and wealth. How very exciting to find, at last, a real black sheep in the family!

Henry Chown, my ancestral 1st cousin born 9th May 1809 Medmenham, Buckinghamshire, England died 29th May 1840 Sydney, New South Wales, Australia, aged 31

Sources:

The National Archive British Newspaper Archive Wikipedia Convict Records, Australia Ancestry UK