Roots

Day 1 - Wed 23 Sept

We're heading for the Old School BnB at Blymhill, near Brewood (near Wolverhampton, near Birmingham).  We'd tried to get a BnB in Brewood (pronounced Brood, with a Midlands accent) but none was available for our dates.  Blymhill is only 11km away, and it's the largest, newest and most comfortable BnB we've experienced on our trip to date.  They even supplied eggs and juice for breakfast.

A welcome sign on the windowsill was most appreciated, and no doubt observed at home too with Term 3 just about to end.

But back to getting there.  With a direct trip time of two hours we had plenty of time to take a more meandering route, so we're off to visit nine ladies first.  Before you raise your eyebrows, these are the Nine Ladies Stone Circle on Stanton Moor, around 3,000-4,000‑years old - nine small standing stones arranged in a ring about 10 metres across, with a King Stone standing a short distance away.  According to legend, the stones represent nine ladies turned to stone for dancing on a Sunday, with the King Stone representing the fiddler who played for them.

It's a Bronze Age ritual monument long associated with folklore and solstice gatherings, but sadly it was also the location of a brutal murder just three months ago during the summer solstice celebrations.  You'd expect a place like this to be shown some sort of respect and reverence, but on arrival a group of hikers had taken up lunch spots amongst the stones, depriving other visitors of photo opportunities or a quiet moment.  A sign in remembrance of the victim is clearly displayed.

We retreated down the hill to spend more time at an abandoned building left to the elements.  It's likely a 19th–early 20th‑century quarry building left to decay after quarrying ended on Stanton Moor.  Shades of Ta Prohm in Cambodia.

Going back in time, but not quite to the Bronze Age is next on the agenda.  I'm not really into genealogy, but Pauline is (must have picked it up from her Dad) and has done some research on my behalf, including poring through my cousin Brian Linehan's genealogy records and consulting Ancestry.com.

All I know is that my Dad was christened William David Onion, one of five boys and two girls.  That's him sitting on the right hand side of his parents, Edwin Joseph Onion and Elizabeth Onion (nee Reesby).  It must have been shortly after this photo was taken (around 1936) that the three younger boys chose to change their surname to Southall, likely to reduce embarrassment for their children.  Rather than choose their mother's maiden name of Reesby, they went back a generation and chose Southall, Edwin's mother's maiden name, likely due to previous family connections.

Out of interest, my Dad despised Johnny Cash's song A Boy Named Sue, a girl's name given to a son knowing it would cause him grief, but growing up hard, mean and tough as he fought off the childhood barbs.  I guess that's why I'm such a softy.  Thanks Dad!

I knew vaguely that the family had hailed from the rural Midlands, and I knew my mother's family (the Jacksons) came from rural Coventry, which put my heritage squarely in Birmingham's radius in the heart of the Midlands, but out of the industrial centre.

It was therefore no surprise to see this confirmed in a DNA test I did a few years ago.

Apparently I'm more British than the British.  Rural Midlanders were predominantly Iron Age British and Anglo-Saxon, and bloodlines weren't as mixed as they were in the cities.  Modern England has also had huge immigration input from the Caribbean, South Asia, Africa, Europe and the Middle East, which changes the average genetic profile.

My grandfather Edwin Joseph Onion was born in Blenheim in 1874.  His parents Edmund Onion (born 1833) and Elizabeth Southall emigrated from the Brewood area to the Wairau Valley probably around 1860.  Interestingly, Edmund's father Edward Onion (born 1791) married Susan Southwell.

So can I find any Southalls or Onions in the local graveyards?  We stop in at the church of St Mary the Virgin & St Chad in Brewood and find a gravestone almost immediately.

Two others are nearby.  So already I've got:

Henry Southall         Died 1756

Elizabeth Southall         Died 1757

Peter Southall         Died 1748 Aged 19

John Southall         Died 1834

Mary Stubbs         Died 1856 His daughter

Suitably enthused, we head for the BnB and plot tomorrow's strategy, but not before enjoying a drink at the adjacent sports bar, where our BnB host is also the barman.  Great chatting to the locals, and enjoying (sort of) a British pub beer.

Day 2 - graveyards, locations and more graveyards

We set off for nearby Bishops Wood, and get our first hit on Onions:

Elizabeth Onion                 Born 1848 Died 1919 Wife of C L Onion

C L Onion Died 1928 Husband

Albert Charles Onion         Born 1889 Died 1955

Harry Onion         Born 1893 Died 1961

Annie Onion         Born 1896 Died 1994 Wife.

Over our two days we've visited seven church graveyards, and farming locations where Pauline's research has shown the families worked as local farmers.  We've found 17 references to Southalls and Onions, and will document these for the family record if someone is interested in extending the family tree.  We haven't found Edward Onion or Susan Onion/Southwell though, which would have given us a direct link.  Many of the gravestones are badly worn and illegible, or they might have been buried at another church - there are dozens in the area, so easily missed.  Suffice to say, I'm comfortable I've found my ancestral home on the Onion/Southall side.

Three images worth noting.  When Pauline and I were in Gallipoli in April 2011 we saw the name of Private Onion D.G. among the names of those lost from the Auckland Infantry Regiment, and confirmed he was a relation.  In the Brewood St Mary's Catholic Church we see Charles Onion and John Southall also fallen in the Great War.

This one for Joe Onion is rather poignant.  It reads:

Joe Onion

1904-1975

The gentle mind

by gentle deeds is known

In memory of

all members of the

Onion family

1644-1944

whose graves are unmarked.

I'd love to know the story behind that inscription.

While my mother was Anglican, my father was an atheist.  He may not have been amused to find his namesake and possible forebear was vicar at nearby Pattingham from 1647-1676!

Somewhat exhausted after visiting hundreds and hundreds of gravestones and trying to decipher them, we head into town for dinner.  The Staffordshire Grill does excellent up-market pub fare, and gave Pauline and me plenty of opportunity to check the photos and reflect on our findings.

Tomorrow we step back in history again, but no graveyards.  We're off to the beginning of Britain's industrial revolution.  Stay tuned!