Hit and Miss Tours
Surprisingly, on family day, some hits and some misses. Shocking I know.
Hit: Osbaldeston Manor. It lies in the Ribble Valley which is very lovely - in fact it backs right on the Ribble River and if we were to buy it for some 2,500,000 English pounds we would also have fishing rights on the south bank that runs across the grounds. It's a long drive in past the surprisingly vibrant town of Osbaldeston, past the Equestrian centre and down a long laneway. However, the many gates were open and we could have driven right in and knocked on the front door. We didn't (I would have but was out-voted) but got some pics in front.
Miss: Oxendale House. It is in the same area and Peter Osbaldeston, the family researcher, had told me it was worth seeing. The gate there was locked (a public walking path right beside it was also marked closed) but there was an intercom beside it. I pushed the button and someone answered. I said, "Hi. We're related to the Osbaldestons and are visiting from Canada and are wondering if it would be possible to drive in for a look at the house?" A pleasant ladies voice replied. "No, I'm afraid that's impossible." Ouch.
Miss: the grave stone of our great, great, great grandfather James Osbaldeston, which was in the Preston cemetery, not more than 5 miles from Osbaldeston. We looked through hand written ledgers, we looked at plot maps, we showed then the picture of the marker, we walked around the cemetery for 45 minutes. No luck.
Miss: Darwen. None of the girls could actually remember which street the Kelly great aunts had lived on (they had all visited) so the closest we got is a street that looked sort of like it. Darwen is a bit dreary, at least on the rainy day we were there.
(note; the high parts of the back walls of the row houses in the picture used to be outhouses).
Hit: Blackburn. Even though we didn't get right through the downtown, the outskirts were a revelation - rolling green countryside, forests, lovely country inns. I had imagined smokestacks and flatness. It lies in the heart of the Ribble Valley which reminds me a lot of the rolling hills of Ireland.
Super Hit: The Slaters. We are third cousins, one of our great, great grandfather for both families is Thomas Bradbury - our great grandfather, William Bradbury was the brother of their great grandmother Elizabeth Bradbury. Some of us thought the physical resemblance was there, some didn't (you can decide for yourself) , but the Pop-like energy and fitness (they are 75, 70 and 65 years old) and even choice of trade (one brother was a tool and die maker, what pop did most of his life) was unmistakable. The three brothers and their wives were charming and a pleasure to meet - worth the trip in itself. Peter informed me that he had walked across Oxendale House before (remarkably, there is a place called Slater House right nearby) and it was actually illegal for them to close the footpath. Pfffthtt, Oxendale house people!
One last trail today and then off to Manchester.
I'll also tack on a few pics of lovely Hilltop House where we are staying. (Why the roof tile shot? Because they are actually 1" thick stone, not slate, like most of the homes and farmhouses around. When I said to Mike the pub keeper 'Don't they leak?' he smiled and said, 'Yes').
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