To return to the roots of my whakapapa on my maternal grandmothers fathers side was indeed one of the highlights of the trip so far. There is something deep and primal about imagining my forebears birthing working living and dying in this beautiful flat part of UK. Called the Lincolnshire Wolls. I will send photos when I have better internet connection. But it was such a blessing to walk the lanes and sit in the church where they spent their lives and were buried. Bratoft is a quaint hamlet with only a few people living there. If I had had to find my own way there instead of Heather and John driving me it would have been a mission . So I am so grateful to then for all their love enthusiasm and time taking me. They even helped me to clear and clean the memorial.There were a few surprises when we got to the churchyard, like finding that Emma died two days before her mother she was only aged nine. Imagine poor Harriet being near death herself and seeing her little girl, my great grandfathers sister succumb to smallpox . Then the older sister dying the following year of small pox as well. The remaining family must have felt so desperate and helpless with their Dad, John and Harry in Australia.
We tried to find Peacock s in the village but there are none remaining .
Today we explore Lincoln and Haworth where the Bronte sisters lived.