The Nourishing Branches of Her Tree

Her big old Australian gum tree stands strong and tall, its roots firmly embedded in the ground.  The tree trunk reaches for the sky, its big spreading canopies giving respite from the harsh summer sun or allowing in the welcome winter sun.

This tree resembles her family tree and her heritage, giving her the motivation to delve into its branches, learning where she came from, researching her ancestors, how they survived and contributed to whom she is today. 

It was an arduous affair, researching both English and Irish heritages, to discover where she fitted in with the legacy she have been given.  As she continued her investigation, she found the Church had a significant contribution to her heritage, one that even today has touched her own life and that of her family.

She commenced her investigations with the earliest of her English ancestors, the Earl of Chester, commonly known as Hugh the Fat.  She was a little concerned, as the only drawings available describe a bear-like man, with a terrifying looking sword, carving his way through villages, running amok through the English countryside.

It seems however, his grandchild was a cousin of the Cardinal Archbishop of Canterbury.  Now that improved her standing in society.  At least with a Cardinal Archbishop in the family, she would be able to appear at the pearly gates and know she would be accepted into Heaven. 

Not only was this a wonderful man to be related to, it appears he contributed to the issuing of the Magna Carta.   She could just see herself, walking with her head held high, listening to the whisperings of “Oh yes, she is related to that chap who had helped write the Magna Carta!!”

Back in those early days, it was well known if you wanted to be on the good side of the Church, giving a gift of land to the monks ensured the “safety of your soul”.  Those pearly gates in Heaven were definitely a place she wanted to be when she died, and she was pleased to know her ancestors were giving the monks gifts of land, obviously very keen to ensure their place in Heaven.    

Hugh the Fat was now just a distant memory, hopefully not showing his swarthy complexion in any of her future generations.

Continuing on with her search, she reached the fifth generation, and lo and behold, her ancestor married a titled woman, regally named “Lady Margaret”.  Her mother’s nickname for her was “Lady Moira”, perhaps she had former knowledge of “Lady Margaret”, even though she was born in the mid 1200’s.  Still and all, she was ecstatic!!

Her investigations continued on in this vein, “lords and ladies” dotting her lineage.  However, as the years rolled on, that period disappeared, and they were now servants of the landed gentry. 

Classed as peasants, they were the ones now “bowing and scraping” for these esteemed elite.   A peasant was at the bottom of the Feudal System, whereby they had to obey their local lord to whom they had sworn an oath of obedience on the Bible.   The Church, which a few centuries ago, was an admirable part of her ancestry, was now forcing her to swear allegiance to her lord. 

The nobility had great power over the common people, forcing them by law and custom to plough the fields, harvest and gather the corn into the barns, and perform all manner of tasks. 

The Church, again, was involved, collecting taxes; a decree which had been conveyed to the peasants that, “God would see their sins and punish them if they did not abide by their rules”.  There was some good news as, after you had paid all your taxes, any money left would be yours to support your family.  However, it appears not many of her ilk ended up having much left.

Living in her little cottage, with her children sleeping in the loft, and her animals sharing her meagre home and income, life seemed less rosy than a few generations ago.  The children were sent out to work at an early age with little or no education, a life of great hardship.    As she continued on with her research, she was hoping she would claw herself out of this mire and at least move into the middle class society.

By the sixteenth generation, around the 1500’s, having risen from the peasant life, she was pleased to find one of her ancestors being educated at the University of Cambridge, married well, and became a member of Parliament.  However, things did not go as planned for this chap, it was said that as time went on, he was “well affected by religion, and useth bad company”.  Regardless of his entering into bad company, one of his sons became a Priest.  Again the Church intervened, and she seemed to be on the right track again.

Coming into the 1700’s, her fortunes had improved and her ancestors were now living in castles and owning the entire village.   This was not to last, these ancestors squandered their fortunes, and they were again the labourers working for the noble gentry.  By the mid 1800’s her great great grandfather, not content with this life, took the “leap of faith”, and together with his wife and eight children, immigrated to Australia, and the rest is history!!  

She loved all the pageantry of those “lords and ladies” days, the ladies in beautiful dresses, grand balls, and dashingly handsome young men milling around, with servants obeying their every wish.  But in all reality, was it really that great.  As they say, the higher they rise, the harder they fall, so maybe being middle class was definitely better.

Many of her ancestors were renowned in the local newspapers for doing good deeds or reaching academic heights.  Unfortunately, one such ancestor had his name prominently displayed in the local newspaper, but not for the wonderful deeds he may have accomplished. 

Around the 1920’s it was against the law to desert your wife and children.  This particular chap had been charged with abandoning his family, and to make matters worse, it was said he was accompanied by a married woman.  This was definitely a scourge on the family name!!   A summons was issued, and reported in the local newspaper, with a description of his height, complexion and hair, “rather long nose”, and details of what he was wearing, even down to the added inclusion of “wearing a truss”.  She was puzzled as to how the awareness of “wearing a truss” would help find this man who had forsaken his family?  There was no further information available, but she believed he did return to his wife and family, although home life, she thinks for him, would have been rather strained.

As luck would have it, she has inherited his “rather long nose”.  Hopefully that is all she has inherited from him. 

Upon investigation she unearthed a famous English writer and a founding member of the Literary Club was a distant ancestor.  Looking at a photo of her brother, his resemblance is uncanny as to how much alike they are, even down to the “rather long nose” and the quizzical but knowledgeable look on their face.  They say a picture says a thousand words, and her brother is definitely a throwback to this brilliant man. 

Of course she has found an ancestral photo of a very aristocratic looking lady in fine clothing, with a “rather long nose”, proving, in her mind, she was definitely related to the aristocracy.  

Moving onto her Irish ancestors, their lives were at times equally as dismal as their English neighbours.   Her grandfather immigrated to Australia in the late 1890’s, eventually settling down to married life with his pretty Irish bride.  They raised their family in their iconic Queenslander which her grandfather built, and which would eventually become her home.  

Her memories of living a child’s life on a dairy farm is one that was envied by many of her childhood friends.  She always felt at home when returning to the Old Queenslander to visit her parents.  That home is steeped in history, as her grandparents forged a new life for themselves, bringing up eight children, with twenty-six grandchildren carrying their Irish genes.  Of those grandchildren, three joined religious orders.  The Church is again firmly entrenched in her family.

It appears longevity is part of her heritage too.   Her grandmother lived to 103 years of age, and most of her cousins are living well into their eighties and nineties.  Her grandmother received letters from the Queen and the Pope, congratulating her on reaching her century.  She too would like reach that wonderful milestone, not only to get the message from the Queen, but also to receive homage from the Church.  After all, her English ancestors paid homage to the Church for many years; it would be wonderful to receive this same homage from them on attaining her century.

The obituary of her grandfather stated he had a “gentle, kind, charitable nature and lived for his home and family, being a good neighbour, and his many acts of charity were only known to those who received them”.   Her grandmother’s obituary was of a similar vein saying she was “warm hearted and generous, keeping the kettle boiling over a roaring fire on the stove, welcoming those who came through the door”.  These are the attributes which she hopes have been instilled in her family for generations to come. 

Her sister was given the nickname “Busy Lizzie”.  She was always on the go, wanting to help around the farm; she loved milking the cows, and rearing the calves.  Her recollections are that she was not that keen on getting her hands dirty in the milking shed, therefore gaining the nickname “Lady Moira”.  Perhaps she is right, although she is sure her heart was in the right place, she was always there when the farm chores had to done, but possibly wandered off before she completed them.  Her memories are a little fuzzy on this part of her upbringing, probably a good thing too. 

It is said we are a product of our ancestors.  When she looks back on her ancestors, it began with the swarthy Norman Knight, Hugh the Fat, who attained his wealth through pillaging the nearby villages, cutting a frightening figure when attacking those who stood in his way.  She believes even though he may have been there at the beginning of her ancestors, his bad attributes were weeded out along the way but his strength and determination have carried through the generations to whom she is today. 

Certainly by the time the Archbishop of Canterbury appears, her ancestral lineage was improving, after all, they say “it is good to have God on your side”.  The Church seemed to wander in and out of her heritage, so that it itself seems to play a part in her upbringing, and perhaps when she does reach her 100 year old milestone, she will be honoured to have the Pope also acknowledge her centenarian age.

Both her Irish and English ancestors had farming in their blood, and even now, she is delighted she has a working vegetable patch, although her husband does all the hard work, “Lady Moira” strikes again.  She loves picking freshly grown lemons, making numerous bottles of lemon butter and other condiments; working in her garden, seeing plants and flowers grow, even giving them a good talking to when they seem a little wilted, urging them to grow and stay healthy. 

And of course, there is her family, the backbone of her existence.  Where would she be without her children and grandchildren, gracing her walls in all their splendour, keenly carrying on the family traditions that she has instilled in them.  This is her heritage, her family tree, firmly entrenched in the history of her ancestors, giving her the strength to carry on with the traditions that have been passed on from one generation to the next.