Family-History Pilgrimage: Day 14

The cathedral in
Bury St. Edmunds.

Monday, June 19, 2023

We celebrated Father’s Day yesterday morning with a card that Ann had very kindly brought from the States. It turns out she could have picked up one here; the Brits do Father’s Day, too. It seemed fitting on that day to remember not just fathers but ancestors more generally. But, ironically, Ann and I didn’t make yesterday’s planned family-history stop for two reasons.

The beautiful organ and ceilings at Bury St. Edmunds. 

First, we chose to stay later in Bury St. Edmunds so we could attend the cathedral’s late-morning Choral Eucharist. As it happened, there was a baptism, too, a wonderful celebration of the ongoing life of this ancient worshiping community (with maybe 25 kids present for children’s chapel and to observe the baptism). An abbey and a parish church were founded there in the 1000s, and a “new” chancel and nave were added to the church in the 1400s and 1500s, respectively. Then, in the 20^th century, the church became the new diocesan cathedral, and the building was extended with a new chancel and sanctuary. Enjoy the view:

A present-day home in the ruins
of Bury St. Edmunds Abbey.

The cathedral is on the grounds of what was Bury St. Edmunds Abbey, a dominating presence physically, spiritually, and politically. It was one of the largest and grandest of England’s monastic sites, enclosing much of what’s now the city’s lively downtown. But the abbey’s power and wealth spurred conflict with local residents because the monks could call the economic shots. The locals rioted in 1327, damaging the gated entryway and stealing 10,000 sheep and other valuables. Then, when Henry VIII abolished the monasteries and ransacked this abbey in 1539, the glorious structure was quarried for other buildings and reduced to rough walls. Today, those ancient interior structures have been converted into homes and offices, and ruins add character to what’s now a park on the abbey grounds. Anyway, yesterday’s worship at the cathedral was joyful, and the music was grand. The only downside was a later departure than we’d planned. 

That, and a long stop to recharge the car during our drive across the breadth of England, kept us from visiting Marshfield, north of Bath. Marshfield was the home of Edward Spicer, born in 1596, who most likely was either the immigrant ancestor, or the father of the immigrant ancestor, for that part of my family. The Marshfield parish register includes several “Spycer” baptisms, marriages, and burials, including Edward Spycer’s baptism in 1596. A visit to Marshfield would have been interesting, but experience shows that headstones from the 1600s don’t reveal much after 400 years of rain; so, I doubt we’d have found any Spycer stones. Still, I would have enjoyed seeing the building, the second church on that site, dating from 1470.

Spicer Genealogy, published 1911.

The Spicers’ emigration story isn’t as clear as others that my mother or I have found. Here are some possibilities. Edward and his wife, Mary Parker Spicer, were married in England and emigrated to Virginia, most likely in 1643. They had a son, Peter, born in Jamestown in 1644 (Mary must have been significantly younger than Edward). One source says Mary died not long afterward, in 1650. Eventually, son Peter made his way to New London, Connecticut, sometime between 1656 and 1666 and married Mary Busecot in 1670 in Rhode Island. The official Spicer Genealogy (1911) and its supplement (1923) traces the Spicers in the U.S. from this couple. But other online genealogical sources offer other possibilities. Peter may have been born to an Edward Spicer and Jane Darby Spicer in Jamestown in 1640. Or, another source says Peter himself was an immigrant, arriving in Virginia in 1656.

Among the shields in the Exeter Guildhall. 

But we’ve now come to Exeter because Spicer Genealogy says Peter was descended from Spicers who lived and led in Exeter for centuries (though the book doesn’t detail Peter’s relationship to these forebears). Spicers served in Exeter’s local government, and four of them served as lord mayor, remembered today with shields on the wall in the Exeter Guild Hall. Exeter’s streets include Spicer Road, named for someone of some status, at least. Given all that, the Spicers must have been “king’s men” through the years. I don’t know what spurred Edward (or maybe Peter) to leave behind centuries of local leadership and risk the uncertainties of the New World. But if Edward and Mary left in 1643, that would have been during the English Civil War, as Puritan Parliamentarians fought for power with Anglican Royalists. If Peter himself came in 1656, that would have been during the Protectorate, when Cromwell and the Parliamentarians were ruling. Either way, one could imagine that a family of “king’s men” might see wisdom in skedaddling across the sea – especially since they came to join the Anglican planters in Virginia rather than the Puritans in Massachusetts. But, on the other hand, Peter went north as an adult to establish himself in Connecticut, a Puritan colony. So, maybe the Spicer’s religious and political story is a bit of a both/and.