Five churches, generations of family history, and an unexpected discovery beside a churchyard bin
My maiden name is Clarke, and over the years I have traced my Clarke ancestors back into the 1700s, mainly around Stretton-on-Dunsmore and the surrounding villages of Warwickshire.
Names such as Stretton-on-Dunsmore, Grandborough, Napton-on-the-Hill, Wolfhampcote and Ryton-on-Dunsmore had become very familiar from parish registers, census returns and other records. They were places where generations of my Clarke, Boneham, Eagles, Lines and Checkley ancestors had been baptised, married, lived and died.
So from 23–25 July 2026, John and I, accompanied by three dogs, took the campervan to Warwickshire for a few days. There would be plenty of time for walking and relaxing, but naturally I had also planned a route around some ancestral churches.
Stretton-on-Dunsmore was the place I particularly wanted to visit.
My 2nd great-grandfather, William Clarke, was baptised here in 1844. His parents were John Clarke and Hannah Boneham, and both sides of their family had strong connections with the village.
John's grandfather Thomas Clarke, born in 1763, and his wife Sarah were both buried at Stretton-on-Dunsmore. I knew this before we visited, so naturally I hoped there might be some trace of them in the churchyard.
Hannah's father, James Boneham, was born in 1794 and spent his life in Stretton-on-Dunsmore, working as an agricultural labourer. Her mother, Elizabeth Eagles, was also buried here.
We parked outside All Saints and went into the church first. I love the atmosphere of old churches, particularly when I know that my ancestors once stood inside them. We looked at the memorials before heading outside and systematically working our way around the churchyard.
There were familiar family names and a few distant relatives, but no direct ancestors.
Afterwards we walked through Stretton-on-Dunsmore itself. It is a quiet, unspoilt village, with a brook running right down the middle of the main village street. We bought ice lollies and sat beneath a tree beside the water.
The 1841 and 1851 censuses don't give me house names for most of the family, so I couldn't point to a particular cottage and say, "They lived there." Instead, I found myself looking at the older buildings and wondering which of them my family would have known.
One place that does appear by name in the census is Poors Plot, and in 1841 it contained a remarkable concentration of my family.
My 5th great-grandfather Thomas Clarke, then aged 77, was living there with his grandson George, George's wife Elizabeth and their three children. Also at Poors Plot was Thomas's son, another Thomas Clarke, aged 49, with his children William and Sarah.
They were far from the only Clarkes there. Altogether 114 people were recorded as living at Poors Plot in 1841, including 18 Clarkes and 10 Bonehams.
Thomas Clarke junior was a bricklayer and remained at Poors Plot in the 1841, 1851 and 1861 censuses. His son John, who had married Hannah Boneham, may well have known Poors Plot as home before his marriage, although the records don't allow me to say that for certain.
Eventually it was time to leave and we walked back to the campervan.
I realised I was still carrying the rubbish from our ice lollies, so I popped back into the churchyard to put it in the bin.
As I turned away from the bin, I noticed a slate slab lying flat on the ground in a corner. There appeared to be some lettering on it.
I cleared away some of the grass.
In memory of Thomas Clarke who died Apr 29th 1844. His wife Sarah lies near this spot died Oct 14 1835. Esther dau of the above died Apr 12th 1827. Michael son of the above died Aug 1st 1821.
Thomas and Sarah Clarke were my 5th great-grandparents.
After walking around the whole churchyard looking for them, I'd found their memorial because I went back to put an ice-lolly wrapper in the bin.
A great big grin moment.
It's something that has happened to Mum and me several times over the years. We've been searching a churchyard, almost finished, spotted an awkward or partly covered stone and said, "Let's just do this one."
And right there is a family member.
Our second church was St Peter's at Grandborough, a village known locally for the two tall trees which stand prominently beside the church.
This time I was following the Eagles branch of the family.
Elizabeth Eagles, who later married James Boneham and became Hannah Boneham's mother, was baptised at Grandborough in 1798. Her father, John Eagles, had been baptised there in 1763, while the previous generation also had connections with the church.
Again we searched the churchyard. We found some more recent Clarkes who aren't currently connected to my family tree. They may prove to be relatives when I investigate them properly, or they may not. That's another job for another day.
We also found a Jesse James, which wasn't a name I had expected to encounter in a Warwickshire churchyard!
After Grandborough we continued to our campsite at The Boat Inn at Birdingbury Wharf.
Friday was our non-genealogy day, although we managed to pack plenty into that too.
We walked along the canal, passing ten locks during an hour-long out-and-back walk. We stopped at Fat Bob's on the canal bank for a drink and discovered that it also had a small motor museum.
Later we headed to a nearby nature reserve, where John and I flew a kite, while the dogs played in the sun.
Churchyards, canal locks, a motor museum and kite flying. Not bad for a couple of days in Warwickshire.
On Saturday morning we began working our way home, with three more ancestral churches conveniently added to the route.
The first was St Lawrence at Napton on the Hill.
This time we were following the family of Jane Lines, the wife of my 2nd great-grandfather William Clarke.
Jane's mother was Frances Checkley, my 3rd great-grandmother, who was baptised at Napton on the Hill in 1802 and married Jane's father, John Lines, here in 1825.
It is a beautiful church in a lovely setting and was one of the places on the trip where I particularly felt the connection with the generations who had lived in these small Warwickshire villages.
We found Checkley and Lines graves in the churchyard, although once again none are currently people in my family tree. One particularly memorable name was John Winkless Line, which inevitably made us smile.
Inside the church was something else that caught my attention: a wonderful old parish chest.
Carved into the wood are the words:
Thomas Garit of Napton yeman and Isabel his wife gave this chest for the use of this church, in token of their loves to this plase. 1624.
Four hundred years later, the chest is still there.
Wolfhampcote was quite different.
To reach the church we found ourselves travelling along a rough road and getting out of the vehicle to open farm gates. It felt increasingly remote, which somehow seemed appropriate when we were following families who had lived and worked in these rural Warwickshire communities more than two centuries ago.
Several strands of my family passed through this church.
James Boneham married here. Elizabeth Eagles married here, as did her father John Eagles, while Elizabeth's mother, Mary Tuckey, also married at Wolfhampcote.
When we arrived, however, the church was locked.
Nearby, a lady was picking fruit from a tree. We got talking and I explained why we'd come and that several generations of my family had used the church.
She had a key.
So we were able to go inside.
And I am very glad we did.
Inside, it felt as though we had stepped much further back in time than at any of the other churches. The simple stone font may date from the 13th century, while the beautiful oak chapel screen is 14th century. Some of the old wooden benches also date from the 14th century.
The font was particularly thought-provoking. Somewhere in my records is a line recording an ancestor being baptised. Here was the church they knew, and here was a font that had already been standing for centuries.
The lady who let us in told us that, although the village around it has long since disappeared, the church is still very much used. People can even stay overnight as part of the Churches Conservation Trust's 'Champing' scheme, essentially camping in a church. The local community holds a carol concert here and the church is also used for music and performances.
I loved that. This wasn't simply an old church preserved as a monument. Centuries after my ancestors came here to marry, people are still gathering inside it. Standing inside a church like this is very different from looking at the name "Wolfhampcote" on a parish register.
This was one of my favourite churches of the trip.
Our final stop was St Leonard's at Ryton-on-Dunsmore.
The Checkley family brought us here. William Checkley, father of Frances Checkley and therefore Jane Lines's grandfather, was baptised at Ryton-on-Dunsmore, while his father Thomas Checkley married and was eventually buried here.
Ryton-on-Dunsmore felt quite different from some of the little rural places we'd visited. We couldn't get inside the church and there were no great family discoveries waiting for us in the churchyard.
But that is part of family-history travelling too.
Not every church produces a gravestone. Not every door opens. Sometimes simply reaching the place where you know your ancestors once lived is enough.
What struck me most during the trip was how rural the world of these ancestors had been.
The places I'd encountered separately in records were suddenly real villages that we could drive between. The same families appeared repeatedly in neighbouring parishes: Clarke, Boneham, Eagles, Checkley and Lines.
They were not wealthy people.
James Boneham spent his working life as an agricultural labourer. Thomas Clarke was a bricklayer. Hannah Boneham was recorded as a laundress in 1851.
And then things began to change.
By 1861, John Clarke and Hannah Boneham had left the villages behind and were living in Coventry. John was working as a lime burner and Hannah as a silk winder.
Thomas Clarke, meanwhile, was still at Poors Plot in Stretton-on-Dunsmore.
Looking at those facts on a census is interesting.
Driving through the villages they left behind makes them mean rather more.
We came home after three days having visited five churches, walked beside a canal, passed ten locks, stumbled across a little motor museum, learned to fly a kite and accumulated rather a lot of photographs.
I also came home with more names to investigate. Those Clarkes at Grandborough may yet find their way onto my tree, as may some of the Checkleys and Lines we found elsewhere.
There could be another story waiting there.
But the discovery I'll remember most happened at the very first church.
I'd gone to Stretton-on-Dunsmore knowing that Thomas and Sarah Clarke were buried there. We'd searched the churchyard and found nothing.
We'd walked through their village, sat beside its brook, eaten our ice lollies and returned to the campervan.
If I hadn't decided to take the rubbish back to the bin, I would have gone home believing their memorial had disappeared.
Instead, I turned around.
And there they were.
Linda nee Clarke
