GREAT GRANDAD

Depending on one's political leanings, Oliver Cromwell is viewed either as a hero or a villian. For me, he is just my ninth great-granddaddy (in a direct line).  Indeed, my mother, in recent years, joined a Cromwell association in the UK, where such a direct descendant was welcomed with open arms, indeed revered by this collection of ardent Cromwell supporters.

To update those of you whose 17th century history may be a bit rusty, Oliver Cromwell was one of the army chiefs who defeated the royalists back in 1653 and for the very short time that Great Britain was no longer a monarchy after the execution of Charles 1, 9th great-granddaddy ruled as Lord Protector of Scotland, Ireland and England.

But what is quite spooky is that today I discovered that back in 1653, Oliver Cromwell's troops were stationed in my village whilst a battle raged in the churchyard. The cottage faces the old church and I can see the spire from my window, rising above the neighbouring houses:



This church is now de-commissioned and in a rundown state, seeking a new owner. But I wonder - are we drawn to where our ancestors laid claim? Could Cromwell have pitched his tent where I now pen these words?

However, I just hope I don't come to the same sticky end - he was buried in Westminster Abbey but when the royalists got back in power they dug him up, posthumously executed and beheaded him and stuck his head on a pole for 24 years for all to see. We have a less than wholesome picture of his head somewhere in a drawer, together with the family tree.

I checked out his picture on wikipedia - quite a family resemblance, I think, particularly the nose.

PS - My mother is a diehard monarchist. She is therefore not quite sure whether to be pleased or appalled about her lineage. I have no such qualms.