England 2023- Tewkesbury

Tewkesbury was an after thought- just a place on the map that fit our needs. We required a place almost exactly halfway to our next destination and the perfect airbnb appeared in a spot nearby. It was only after I booked it that a little tickle in my brain told me that Tewkesbury was familiar.  I had to really search around in my brain and then I remembered some distant direct ancestors were buried at Tewkesbury Abbey. For an amateur genealogist like me this is my Super Bowl! Being able to find tangible proof of your ancestry is so very exciting, a kind of high I can’t explain to those who aren’t genealogy nerds like me. Suddenly Tewkesbury took on a whole new meaning and I couldn’t wait to go!

We rolled into town too early to check in to our airbnb so I had the perfect excuse to go straight to the Abbey. Our first few hours in Tewkesbury ended up being a weird mix of chaos and utter peace. We started our time there by finding a car park as close to the Abbey as we could find.  By this point my phone was dead and charging and Daniel’s was dangerously close to being in the same boat. We found a spot behind the Abbey where the Tewkesbury farmers and craft market was in full swing. Unbeknownst to us not 10 feet away a chaotic medical emergency was unfolding. We had no sooner exited our car when we heard the shouts and a frantic woman came running up pleading for us to call emergency services. An elderly gentleman was suddenly having a medical event on the doorstep of the residence directly across from the car park. I for one am not good in an emergency- my anxiety takes over and I clam up- like truly frozen to the spot (unless it involves my once toddler niece and a gaggle of asshole geese, then I shine!). To add to the situation, my phone was officially out of commission and we had no idea if our California phones could even call emergency services, I had opted for a very basic data plan and we were on airplane mode. We were trying to explain to the frantic woman our predicament when I happened to look over at the bustling farmers market. There, about 30 feet away was a paramedic oblivious to the scene behind him. I pointed him out to the woman almost at the exact time that an ambulance pulled in. Another bystander had been able to make the call. 

All of this took place in about 60 seconds but in the moment it felt like an eternity. The adrenaline was so high that we needed to get ourselves together, calm our nerves and get back into our car. We just sat there holding our breathes while watching the dramatic scene unfold in the rear view mirror. We had no idea if the poor man survived, but I’m really hoping he did. 

We have had something fairly dramatic happen each time we visit England so I’m hoping this next trip is fun and boring, devoid of drama or emergencies. I’ve had my fill of credit card fraud, a race against a towed vehicle in Berwick upon Tweed while we were 40 minutes away in Edinburgh, a runaway car that almost ran over my husband and ended up in a river, and a medical emergency. Please be kind to us in 2025 England, we really do love you.

After calming our nervous systems we decided heading into the Abbey was the perfect answer. Regardless of whether you are a religious person the peace and tranquillity of a sacred place like an Abbey or Cathedral can be just the right thing. Leaving the scene of the drama we walked into the welcoming space and took a much needed deep breath. 

Now the search for my ancestors began…

I have no doubt that I missed some ancestors while wandering the aisles but I did manage to find my 23rd great grandfather and his grandfather (my 25th) as well as a man who is simultaneously my 22nd great grandfather AND my 20th great uncle. The farther you get back with genealogy the more tangled it can get. With cousins marrying cousins and my parents having in a shared 13th century ancestor it’s bound to get complicated. 

I cannot tell you how delighted I was to find this tangible evidence of my personal past. It truly is a wonder that nearly 800 years after the death of my 25th great grandfather I could travel all of the way from California to stand at his burial site and honor his memory. For without him I would truly not be here. You see, both of my parents are direct descendants of this man, Gilbert de Clare. He was born in 1180 in Hertfordshire and died far from home in Brittany while on an expedition in 1230, at what we would now consider the tender age of 50. He had 6 children by his wife Isabel. My dad is descended from their daughter Isabel and my mom is descended from their son Richard. As an Anglophile it brings me so much joy knowing how embedded my ancestors were in English history.

The plaque marking the grave of my 23rd great grandfather Gilbert de Clare, died 1295

Plaque marking the burial spot of my 25th great grandfather Gilbert de Clare, died 1230. He is a direct ancestor for both of my parents and was present at the signing of the Magna Carta in 1215. 

Once I had located my de Clare ancestors I went in search of another great grandfather- this one a bit of a villain in history. Located around a bend and interred in the wall was the final resting place of my 22nd great grandfather, or we could also call him my 20th great uncle depending on which side of the tree you’re looking at. You see Hugh le Despenser married Eleanor de Clare great granddaughter of the above mentioned Gilbert de Clare and my direct ancestor through her father also called Gilbert, making me related to both Hugh and Eleanor in more ways than one. Hugh was the son of Hugh the elder and his wife Isabel de Beauchamp. And guess what? My dad is a direct descendant of Hugh the elder and mom is a direct descendant of Isabel de Beauchamp. I told you it gets complicated. This section of my tree is full of people who are both grandparents and aunts and uncles being one and the same. Thankfully this was so many hundreds of years ago that my parents are so distantly related that I doubt there is any shared DNA left, but it does leave one feeling a little funny inside. 

Tomb housing the partial remains of  Hugh “the younger” Despenser my 22nd great grandfather AND my 20th great uncle. 

Let’s get back to Hugh and his “villainy”. Said to be very manipulative, he was the most hated man in 14th century England. Hugh became King Edward II’s closest confidant (and probable lover) and with his influence came great power. That power threatened not only the barons but also the Queen, Isabella of France (the one they called the She Wolf). Hugh and his father (also a Hugh) became wildly unpopular and resentment grew that King Edward left them unchecked giving them limitless power. By all accounts Hugh the younger was a bully. He stole land, swiped the inheritance of rightful owners, became a pirate robbing merchants of their goods in the English Channel and was even accused of murder. Somewhere in there he found the time to produce 9 children with his wife Eleanor. Their son Edward is my 21st great grandfather. But before I get ahead of myself let’s talk about what Hugh is most famous for: his death. Specifically the brutality of it. Hugh’s execution was vicious, I’ll spare you the details but if you’re so inclined it is very well documented and a quick google search will provide the details. Let’s just say that things were cut off, pulled out and severed and only some of him is in the tomb that was now before me. 

After the shenanigans he pulled in his lifetime I’m lucky there is a tomb to stand in front of at all. To be honest I would have expected him to have had a hasty burial in an unmarked plot, but alas what was left of his remains was interrred in Tewkesbury Abbey by his widow. 

With my husband now impatiently waiting for me to wrap things up I said goodbye to my ancestors and we made our way to our home for the night. One of my favorite things when planning our trips to England is finding unusual or unique places to stay. Our little abode was full of character, a tiny thatched roof cottage located in the car park of a country pub in the middle of Gloucestershire. The warm afternoon encouraged the locals to descend on the pub which made it pleasantly lively with music and laughter, becoming the soundtrack while we settled in. 

View from the sitting area of the cottage

The Farmers Arms Pub

Our rental car just outside the cottage

Back view of the little cottage

I was ready for a good nights sleep, for the next day would take us some interesting places and to a reunion with my in-laws that I was quite anxious about. We hadn’t seen them since the infamous Vegas trip 5 years earlier, and if you were following along you might remember that my father-in-law and I didn’t end on the best of terms. What would the next day hold?