Pythian Games

Studying family roots can be more than just an endeavor in detective work. As much as we enjoy learning about the places, dates and names of our ancestors, sometimes we can come across bits of information about our roots that greatly change our thinking about our present situation.

For example, one bit of information I pulled from the box containing my aunt’s research is a document that notes how my immigrant Gloyd ancestor arrived in North America. John Glydd was born in October, 1655 in Hailsham, Sussex, England. He was a younger sibling in the brood of Richard Glyd (AKA John Glidd*) and Mary Evans. The family must have been of some higher social standing because they had a coat-of-arms.

Then we read this:

“This Indenture witnesseth, that John Glydd son of John Glidd of Helson, in the County Sussex, in England husbandman, of his owne free will doth putt his selfe to Fran Littlefejld, Senior, of Wells, in the County of Yorke. In New England husbandman to learn his art & with his executors & assigns after the manner of Apprentize to serve from ye thirteenth day of June in the year of our Lord one thousand six hundred sixty & three, unto the full end & terme of eight years from thence next following to bee fully Compleat and ended/during which terme the sayd Apprentize his maister…” (taken from York Deeds, part I, Fol. 148).

Note the date John was born. Note the date that John “of his owne free will” signs himself into indentured servitude. He was 7 years old. SEVEN! This child got on a ship and sailed a storm-tossed North Atlantic to the wilderness of Massachusetts. Alone. No doubt his parents never thought to see him again. I suppose from a 17th century perspective this was the best thing a parent could do for his child—to provide him with the opportunity to learn a trade and make a living.

To my 21st century perspective, I am aghast.

However, what strikes me here is that whether it is the 17th century or the 21st, people have been and are still being compelled by circumstances outside of their control to leave the home of their ancestors to make a better way. Some came by slave-ship or prison-ship, some because there was simply no way to survive in their homelands. The next time I see a crowd of day laborers waiting for a job at the local lumber yard or the women cleaning houses of my neighbors, I will remember John Glydd. He was not that much different.

And that is the lesson.

Text and Image: L.Gloyd © 2008

(*The spelling of the last name varies, it seems, at the whim of the writer, as well as, from time to time, the first names)

(This is the Glyd coat-of-arms).

My aunt is the family genealogist, at least for my dad’s side of the family. She is really quite good at it and insists that genealogical assertions are worthless without backup documentation. So when she sends me notes on her research I know without a doubt that what she writes is accurate. I read everything she sends me but I usually just put it away in a big plastic bin in my library with the idea that one day, when the time was right, I would go through it all and read it as a total history. It seems now is that time thanks to all the recent posts regarding “identity.”

My plan was to just go through the material and make one post listing some highlights that were interesting to me. However, I am feeling overwhelmed at amount of material (my aunt has been researching for decades), so I’ve decided to break it up and post a note at a time.  I understand if none of my family history is of particular interest to you, but I feel like I need to at least “put it out there” in case other researchers are googling this information. So, let’s get started:

“The earliest documented …ancestor is Richard Glyd, born about 1550 in Brightling, England. Richard Glyd was a descendant of Athelstan Gloddrydd,…but it is unknown by this writer which son was the forebear of Richard.”

“Athelstan Glodrydd was born sometime after 950… He was the son of Cyhelyn and Rheingard. He married Gwladus, daughter of Run… His titles were King, Glouchester; also Earl of Hereford; Baron of Stafford; Godson of Athelstan, King of England….Athelstan Gloddrydd was killed in the War [Battle] of Hastings, AD 1066, and one of his sons became ruler of Glouchester, but was ousted by William the Conqueror when William took full control of England.”

I was blown away when I first read this. I hope she can some day find the “missing links” between Richard and Athelstan. Stay tuned for more.

Image: L.Gloyd (c) 2008

I am from books lining the shelf of an old library with the collected works of literature, philosophy, art, spirituality, science and nature, and from historical places that leave traces of the human souls that once walked the land.

I am from a lineage of people who once lived in the “City of God and the Frying Pans”, the home of copper pots situated in the heart of a French countryside surrounded by rivers and valleys, where snowy owls slept in the dovecote and where caramels and cheese were produced in local farms.

I am vibrant colors, sweeping landscapes of sprawling green fields and hilly pastures. I am weeping willows scraping the surface of water and diverse flowers appearing to have been plucked from one of Monet’s canvases.

I am from stately castles, slightly askew manor houses, soaring cathedrals, products including copper pots, cider and Calvados (an apple brandy), ideal places for spontaneous rambling, picturesque routes for bike and horseback riders, and marinas for sailors.

Then again, I am from the bays, the harbors, sandy beaches, rocky inlets and sheer cliffs. I am a stable, cowshed, pressing and printing room, a parlor and vestry. I am old furniture fit for a Shakespearean play, tapestries, and paintings of nature’s stillness, beauty and grace.

As a child, I was told that I am from a long line of Hambye’s that were Vikings. We eventually settled in the Village of Hambye in Western France where the Abbaye d’Hambye of Benedictine Monks was founded in the medieval time of 1145. The famous ruins still stand today with many crows nesting in the broken tops of the arches.

My sister has traced our ancestry roots. We are from the descendants of Roger d’Hambye who in 1019 travelled to England and became the forefather for a strong line of Hamby’s (he dropped the “e” in the name), the most noted was Sir William Hamby who in 1614 maintained a large library of written books which was so massive in volume and diversity that it was unheard of during his time, and his gravestone was a full replica of himself that relatives placed in his honor out of great respect.

Spiritually, I am from a long line of healing voices, tender hearts and strong connections to strict silence out of respect for others when deep in stillness. Fraternal love has been our guiding light as early as the 10th century. In the family, I am the Protector of Souls traveling far and wide to seek out people I’ve known before.

Though born in the Midwest, I spent most of my adult life in Northern California with connections to my lineage though I did not know this until recently. In San Francisco’s Grace Cathedral rests a medieval altarpiece that belonged to the Hambye Abbey for three centuries until the French Revolution (1789). A French collector purchased the Flemish and brought it to America where he sold it to William H. Crocker (Crocker Bank) of San Francisco who donated the artwork to Grace Cathedral in 1930. In 2002, French historians were able to finally trace the artwork to Grace Cathedral, enriching the story of the Hambye Abbey’s heritage.

On my mother’s side, I am a descendant of Sir John de Sutton VI of England. As Lord Steward in 1422, he brought home the body of King Henry V to England, and was chief mourner and carried the standard of King Henry V at his funeral. He had a long and successful career in the service of the royal court. Amongst his many appointments, he held the lieutenancy of Ireland and he fought throughout the wars with France and was a firm supporter of the House of Lancaster in the Wars of the Roses.

–genece hamby, contemporary artist & poet
http://sanctuaryofstillness.wordpress.com