For centuries, St Chad’s Church has stood at the heart of Hanmer, a border village in north-east Wales. It’s a place where generations have gathered to worship, to marry, and to mourn. But for family historians, Hanmer can be a frustrating place to research—mainly because of a devastating fire in 1889 that destroyed key parish records, including an irreplaceable volume of marriages from the late 18th and early 19th centuries.
The earliest mention of a church in Hanmer dates back to 1110, but the first stone building was likely constructed in the mid-12th century. That original medieval church served the community for centuries. It’s believed that Margaret Hanmer, a member of the local gentry, was married here to Owain Glyndŵr, the Welsh prince and rebel leader, around 1383.
The church has seen more than its share of trouble. In 1463, during the Wars of the Roses, it was badly damaged by fire. It was later rebuilt as a substantial parish church. During the English Civil War, St Chad’s was occupied, and a battle took place in Hanmer in 1643. Over time, the building continued to evolve while retaining the original 12th-century style and layout—visible today in its long nave and elegant stone pillars.
In the 20th century, R. S. Thomas, one of Wales’s best-known poets, served here as a curate during the early years of the Second World War. The church’s long story links the medieval world with the modern in remarkable ways.
The most serious blow for modern researchers came in 1889, when fire again struck the church. Though much of the stone structure survived, key parish registers were destroyed. Two volumes were completely lost:
The burial records were later reconstructed using Bishop’s Transcripts, which are now held at the Cheshire Record Office under reference P/27/1/11. However, the BTs did not include marriages—which means marriage records from 1787 to 1813 are gone for good. There is no surviving copy or transcript anywhere.
Canon Lee, the parish priest at the time, acted quickly and bravely during the fire. Wrapping wet sheets around his face to avoid suffocating fumes, he entered the burning vestry and managed to save several other registers. Without his actions, the loss would have been even greater.
Two other registers also disappeared, though not necessarily in the fire:
Their absence leaves further gaps in what should be a continuous record of life in the parish.
Exterior view of St Chad’s Church, Hanmer (present day)
Despite these setbacks, St Chad’s Church has been rebuilt and restored several times—most recently with a new roof added in 1892, following the 1889 fire. What we see today is the result of three major restorations, but the design still closely follows the original 12th-century layout. In its arches and stone columns, we see a line of continuity stretching back more than 700 years.
Interior details: chancel, stained glass, and roof beams
For historians and genealogists, the damage done in 1889 is lasting. Anyone tracing ancestors who lived in Hanmer between the late 1700s and early 1800s will likely hit a dead end if they’re searching for marriage records. While some information can be gathered from wills, gravestones, land records, and nearby parishes, the core details of who married whom during that period in Hanmer are no longer available.
It’s a sobering reminder of how fragile the historical record can be—and how much family history depends on documents that, in many cases, survived only by chance.
