Before the drainers — the Isle he knew
The Isle of Axholme of Robert's lifetime was still the old Isle: a low island of plough-land and pasture standing over an immense wet common of marsh, mere and moor, where the parishes kept cattle and geese, cut turf and reed, fished and fowled by ancient right. No engineer had yet touched the rivers; Vermuyden's drainage, and the century of quarrel it brought, began fifteen years after Robert's death. His was the world the commoners would afterwards fight to recover.
He was born into another kind of beginning, too. Parish registers had been ordered in every English church only six years before his birth, and the Belton book that records him — births set down in Latin, the year spelt out in words — was still a novelty of Henry VIII's last years. Robert's seventy years run from that first generation of written parish memory, through the whole Elizabethan age, to the reign of King James; his family's story is traceable at all because the writing began just in time to catch him.
Composed for this site from published local history — the family’s world, not one of Mum’s records.
