Milbroke, Bedfordshire, England

Milbroke, Bedfordshire, England, was in 1635 a tiny village located only about a mile from Ampthill. Five or six centuries earlier, a cell of Benedictine Monks belonging to the Abbey of St. Alban’s live here. In 1119, the monks moved to Moddry, Hertfordshire, and their old manor was sold. After changing owners several times, the manor was purchased by Sir John Cornwall who, in 1442, was created Baron of Milbroke (or Milbrook or Milbrooke). In this way the village came to be known as Milbroke. This was the place of abode of Thomas Stiles, our earliest ancestor known by name and the father of John Stiles, our earliest American ancestor.

A record of a report to Parliament in 1801 shows the following: “Milbroke had sixty-seven inhabited houses, uninhabited houses, none; families, seventy-one; persons, three hundred twenty-seven.”

In 1881, Henry Reed Stiles, second Stiles family historian, visited Milbroke and examined the Parish register. He found the baptismal records of the four Stiles brothers who came from England to Connecticut in 1635. His examination of the Parish Register led him to write,

“It is very evident that the family was not of Bedfordshire origin. It appears upon the Milbroke register in 1581; and it entirely disappears from there with the emigration to America of Thomas Stiles’ children in 1635, having dwelt there altogether for a period of 54 years. Neither in this, or the adjoining parish of Ampthill, does the name ever subsequently appear.” After his return from Milbroke, Henry Reed Stiles wrote the following description of the hamlet: “Milbroke lies nestled in a lovely vale, richly timbered, soft dreamy in all its lines and curves. The little village stree, or road, winds curing along the base of quite a high ascent, upon which stands the old church, dominating the whole landscape. In its few clustered houses – some of comparatively modern date, but mostly of the old stone-and-plastered, straw-thatched construction of bygone days- this street presents a scene of English rural life, exceedingly quaint, novel and interesting to the eye of an American. It needed little, or no, imagination to feel that it looks now, quite as it must have looked – two centuries and a half ago – when our ancestor, ‘Thomas, the carpenter,’ and his sons, (the future ancestors of generations beyond the sea), dwelt here. From the Rectory, a rather modern building, in the domestic-gothic style, we passed across the road to where a wicket-gate opened upon a very steep pathway leading up the side of the hill, on the brow of which stands the church, surrounded by its ancient ‘God’s-acre,’ where the ‘rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.’ The edifice is evidently of two dates of construction, an older portion, comprising the chancel, and a later one, (though old enough to the stranger ‘from beyond seas’), making up the greater portion of the body of the church, with the square tower. Externally, its appearance, though plain, is venerable and attractive, and its walls heavily clad with ‘ivy green’ Internally, it is as ‘plain as a pikestaff,’ presenting nothing of interest except one or two monumental busts of noble patrons, place, (as they should not be), within the altar-rail. The view from the front of the old church-tower, looking down upon the sleepy hamlet below, and the lovely vale of Bedford stretching away into the dim distance, was one of those exquisite glimpses of natural scenery peculiar to Old England.”

“Nearby, on the high land overlooking the valley are the beautiful ruins of Houghton House, a mansion belonging to the Dukes of Bedford, which was dismantled after the death of a Marquis of Tavistock, about a century ago. He was killed while out hunting, and the Duke ordered all the mansion to be abandoned. It has gradually fallen into decay, and a considerable portion has lately (between 1877 and 1886), fallen down. It is a place of some historical interest, having been built in the time of Queen Elizabeth, by the celebrated Countess of Pembroke – Ben Johnson’s Countess, (‘Sidney’s sister, Pembroke’s mother,’ etc.) Her monogram is still visible on the façade of the ruined hall. It stands upon the border of Ampthill Park, magnificent though somewhat neglected grounds, with a noble avenue of monstrous oaks and elms.”

 

 

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