My Stay in Devonshire (by Mrs. Alfred Doidge)
July 18, 1929 Abilene KS Reflector-Chronicle

Individuals mentioned in the newspaper account:

Alfred Doidge was born July 18, 1865 in Tavistock, Devon, UK the son of Roger (1836-1906) and Elizabeth (nee Nankivell) Doidge. He is the grandson of William (1810-1866) and Mary (nee Webber) Doidge (1813-?).

Mrs. Mary Doidge was the 2nd wife of Alfred Doidge, She was born October 12, 1874 in Ford, Northumberland, UK to William and Agnes (nee Whittle) Piercy.

Mother Doidge, aka Elizabeth Jane Doidge was born April 13, 1838 in Tavistock, Devon, UK to Elias and Mary (nee Burn) Nankivell.

Jennie Doidge, daughter of Alfred and Jennie May Wilson. She was born April 13, 1901 in Abilene, Kansas.


The many friends of Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Doidge and daughter Jennie, who are spending the summer in England, will be interested in Mrs. Doidge’s account of their visit with relatives in South of England where Mr. Doidge was born. They are stopping there going North to Mrs. Doidge’s former home

It rained the day we landed in Plymouth. Since then, it has been lovely. Indeed, we all have coat of tan, as we have been out of doors so much. The weather is about like our spring weather. Everyone wears a light coat. I have worn my wool dress with a coat ever since I came and have felt quite comfortable. I don’t know whether it is the change of climate of what it is, but we have developed awful appetites. We don’t have breakfast until 9 a.m., but we are eating and enjoying four meals a day. The last one is served from 10:30 to 12, but that does not interfere with our sleeping. We sleep the sleep of our just until the clock strikes 8. By the way, it is a grandfather clock.

Monday our cousin came into Plymouth to find out when we could visit with them. We talked the matter over with the family we were staying with and decided to go back with them to Tavistock. We walked over to the station and bought our tickets for the place. On the way out we passed many of the places that we have heard Mother Doidge mention. We were surprised when we reached Tavistock, the place where mother Doidge was born to find a village of about 8,000 people, instead of the little village we expected to see.

It is beautifully situated in a valley just the shape of a saucer, with hills surrounding it on all sides. On the side hills are built houses overlooking the main part of the village. In of these houses lives our cousin, John S. Doidge, and his wife. The house is very beautiful, surrounded on all sides by a beautiful garden. Back of the house is a vegetable garden while in the front and at the side are the flowers. It is terraced in some places with lovely white stones and between those stones grow the most beautiful vines and shrubbery. In the level places are lovely flowers grown so close together there is not an inch of space between them. These with the nice walks and a lovely fountain with the water spraying continuously make a beautiful picture. Our room is in the front of the house so we can see over the town across to another hill where another cousin of Alfred’s now lives. There are lovely flowers in every door yard.

Before I left home I had made up my mind to see some of the old churches that I had heard my parents describe but I am afraid I will have to merely glance at some of them, as our time is short and there are so many churches. One of the churches that I was in was the Tavistock Church of England that was built in the 13th century. It was built of lava stone from a burning mountain located a short distance from here. The stones are said to get harder with age. They were cut and shaped while they were soft. The church is in perfect condition, both inside and out. On entering we found the inside of solid masonry with large solid granite pillars in the side aisles. Near the door was the poor box and visitors register. Of course, we were delighted to write our names there, as some of our relatives are still members of that church. I turned back some leaves to see if there were any other visitors from the United States , but didn’t see any. There were several names from the British Colonies. The seats have very straight backs so there is no danger of any one sleeping during the service, even if there are cushions on the seats. On the walls are memorials to prominent church members of the parish. They date from the year 1715 up to the present time. Oh yes, I almost forgot to tell you of the beautiful memorial plate hung there, with the names of the boys who gave their lives in the late war inscribed on it.

Near the front at each side are tombs with the images of the departed. One of them has the image of Judge Gamban and wife. The story is that long, long ago his daughter was forced to marry a man she did not want, so she poisoned him. Her father was the judge at the time and he is shown in the attitude of passing sentence while his wife is shown kneeling pleading for mercy.
Near the alter is the children’s corner with many images and memorials. We also saw the locked chest containing the vessels used in the sacraments and Bible, lock and key in the their chest.
Near there are the walls of the old abbey which was built by the monks. It is a very beautiful place. The little noisy river Tavy flows through the town along side the abbey which is surrounded by beautiful copper beech and many other kinds of trees. All of it gives a quiet , restful atmosphere.

On our way home Jennie drew my attention to the traffic cop drat the tall dressed in a long white, overcoat with a red band around his arm. She is quit amused at the tall policeman standing so still and straight with their stiff helmets and holding their white gloves in one hand. She wonders what they would do with their gloves if they had to arrest anyone.

Our friends here are so kind in every way, and are going with us and explaining every thing we don’t understand. After lunch we boarded a bus to go to church, Whitchurch is the name, where Alfred’s uncle was the parish clerk for over 30 years. He was also choir leader and deacon.
We sat in the pew where Uncle John and family used to sit, and where all of his hymn books and Bible are kept in the boxed foot stool in the pew. The pew is now occupied by his oldest grandson and family who own and live in the old farm home. We then went into the church yard where there are many of the Doidge’s buried. Across the road is the school house where Uncle John used to teach.

Leaving the church we started out for the old farm house, where he lived and farmed for so many years. As the land belongs to the family were at the liberty to go the way we pleased. We crossed over the beautiful fields dotted with buttercups, daisies and wild poppies. Dividing the fields are hedges. Stones taken from the land are used to build these to about 4 feet then on top of that is planted hedge of ash, oak thorn, beech, and sycamore. Between these stones grow the most beautiful flowers making a picture never to be forgotten. The only thing I don’t like is that when you travel down the lanes between them you can’t see anything else But, when you get a view from the higher ground it is beautiful. We passed through several fields and finally arrived at the farm house.

When we arrived there our cousins tea-table was already set so we sat down and enjoyed ourselves drinking tea and talking of the present and the past. By the way, tea-drinking seems to be the favorite indoor sport of the English.

As this branch of the Doidge family are all farmers, Mr. Doidge soon entered into the farm question while Jennie and I took note of the inside of the house. I think that most of them are built a good deal alike, all of stone which is found near by. Most of them are two stories high. The ceilings are low with heavy oaken beams and the floors are cement, although some are flagging which seems to be slate stone cut in pieces. The walls are about two feet thick which makes nice window seats or places to put flowers, as the window frames are near the outside. In the kitchen fire places are put what they call “American stoves” but I never saw any in the United States like them. All of the rooms have fire places. That seems to be the only way of heating the houses, but I understand it never gets very cold down here as this is in the extreme south of England. The kitchen and hall floors are covered with linoleum while the living rooms are furnished with the same style of rugs and furniture that we have.

After we arrived home I decided to write letters so went into the sun parlor to do so. I sat there writing until 10:15 then decided to quit as it was getting dark. The days are so long here as the sun doesn’t go down until 10 o’clock at this time of the year.

We went to see the church were Alfred’s mother and father were married. I won’t bother you with a description of the church as I think most of the old churches are about the same but I will say that a memorial of the names of the early rectors hung in the porch and the first rector was there in1270. The graves of Mr. Doidge’s grandfather and grandmother are in the old part of the cemetery. Leaving there we passed the location of the lead mine where Mr. Doidge’s father used to work but they are deserted now the mineral being all worked out.

The distance from there to Tavistock was eight miles, four of which we had ridden on bus and the other we had walked. By that time I had enough walking so suggested that we call at a house we had passed to see if we couldn’t hire a car to take us home. We were very fortunate in securing one from a second cousin by the name of Doidge, so eight Doidge’s and a dog piled into the car and were driven home. They laughed at me for not wanting to walk home, but I had noticed they were all willing to ride. We were not very comfortable but very jolly.

By the way, I noticed there are not nearly so many people owning cars here so one can cross the street anywhere without feeling as though something might happen. As the time of our visit here was drawing to a close and there were so many interesting places to see, we decided to hire a far and take a trip around Dartmoor. The first place we stopped at was Dartmoor prison, which was built in 1806 for use for prisoners of the war with Napoleon. It is a very large place and is built on a hill so it can be seen for many miles. We saw several prisoners working out of doors accompanied by a guard for every two prisoners. The guards all carried guns. The guards wore white pants, blue jackets with red trimming, but as we didn’t get close enough to see much. We then crossed the street and went into the church where the employees and their families worship. It is quite a large building. I understand it has been enlarged lately but we know one there to tell us when so I did not get the date.