It takes a Village

My Great, Great Grandmother Barbara Lee was born in the Devon village of Chagford, deep in Dartmoor. With her husband Abraham, whom she married on the 10th April in 1848 at the age of 19, they immigrated to Australia.

I had visited Chagford once before many years ago and I remember a small village square and a lovely pub The Three Crowns at its centre. Driving into Chagford this time I was struck by the changes that time had wrought. It is now a prosperous Village. The cars are european and large parked at odd angles around the square. The centrepiece, an octagonal building, is now turned over to a small market.

A range of boutiques now line the village streets and along with The Three Crowns, other pubs in the village have been revitalised and made appealing. I walked down each street and thought of how it must have looked in the mid 1800's and how different it must have been.

Chagford

The Three Crowns

Chagford

It must have been very different for how could anyone bring themselves to leave?

The Church sits proudly in the middle of the village. Surrounded by green grass and tombstones, the spire reaches proudly into the sky. I gaze upwards and admire its thrust into the blue sky.

It is an old church. In chatting to a local I am told that the 'real' Lorna Doone is buried at its alter and that each new bride of the village, on their day, leaves a white rose upon her grave.

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As I am want to do, I walk through the rows of gravestones and search for names. In an old but prime position I find the surname Lee....there are only three and I am given to believing that they are Barbara's family, the dates of mid 1800's too close but there are no others. Perhaps she was the last?

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A small wooden bench sits nearby and at the side of the church and in its shade, I cry. I cry for no other reason that I am struck to the core by this little place, this little Devon village out on the edge of Dartmoor and the wilds of the country. I cry because once again I have found a sense of home and belonging. I believe that there resides in some of us a genetic perhaps pull which tells us and leads us to where we should be. I feel its tug here just as I do in Buckfastleigh.

I have a lot to learn about Barbara and Abraham. I want to know why they felt they had to leave Devon. I want to know who they left behind and what happened to them. I want to believe that in me, I can bring them home too.