Kirk Session Excerpts, Isle of Coll, Scotland, Part III

Human nature will out. In a small community, it’s hard to hide anything from the neighbours!

Coll Kirk Session Minutes, 1733-1813, GB 234, CH2/70/1; National Archives of Scotland
7 June 1734

John McLachlan vc Ian vc Dhoil being asked if he would own the Child fathered upon him by Margaret McNeil vc Dhoil said he would not and said he was ready to depose that he had no guilt with her. But it being suggested by some of the members of session that Mary McEachan vcLachlan Ian was present to them lying in bed together and the young woman being put upon oath declared that this young man & the said Margaret and herself being Lodged in a ____ hutt She went to bed befor any of them. Soon thereafter this young man went to bed. And that some time after the Sd Margaret went to bed but she could not observe her lying with the Said John. Meanwhile the young man owns that he lay with this Margaret once & again for want of bedcloaths but Disowns guilt with her.

Angus McRory mhoir being required to declare what he heard this Margaret say in relation to this affair says that upon John McLachlan’s Challenging the Said Margaret for fathering her Child upon him, She said that he needed not think shame of owning her Child and that if he would own the Child she would give him no more Trouble.

However on any occasion one Nick Corair spouse to John McWilliam vc Rory having declared upon oath befor the Session that Early in the morning she Surprized the Sd John & Sd Margaret in bed together Stript to their Shirt No soul being in the Hutt but them. The Sd John confessed his guilt & owned the Child And Hector McLeane of Knock becoming baill for the Sd John’s submitting to discipline & paying fines and Lachlan McLeane of Toraston becoming baill for Sd Margaret submitting to censure & paying her fine The Child was Baptized.

“Fathered upon him” is an interesting turn of phrase, resonating in our liberated century as a moral judgment pre-weighted against the woman. What, I wonder, is the difference between submitting to discipline and submitting to censure? If there is a difference? At least the elders used the word “guilt” instead of “criminal connection” which appears at times.

Since the parish register does not begin until 1776, there is no way to confirm the name of the child or potential marriage(s) of the two parties. Notice that no place names (residence) are mentioned. A fast sweep of the 1776 Coll List of Inhabitants—in an admittedly forlorn hope—I thought I might catch a John McLachlan with or without a wife Margaret McNeil. If they were in their teens or twenties at the time of their indiscretion, they could be well-worn into their fifties or sixties by 1776. They might be widowed, or living in the home of a child with a different surname.

The lone John McLachlane of the List was at Sorisdale with wife Mary McLean; their three children included one under-age child (under seven years) and two servants. He does not seem an elderly man of the times. A Margaret McLachlane was at Arinagour with four children, two of them under-age. Even if she was a widow, she was probably much younger than a child-bearing maximum of mid- to late-forties.

This general situation illustrates how we can’t under-estimate the value of the Highland oral tradition of genealogical recitation ... if indeed we are lucky enough to discover such.

Silent Sunday

Saturday Morning Market, Helsinki

Photograph, BDM, October 2006.

Kirk Sessions Excerpts, Isle of Coll, Scotland, Part II

As I study the minutes of the elders’ meetings, it strikes me how much the events could affect a family’s genealogy, attributing the true parents to children ... in particular, the instances of out-of-wedlock children. Whether this immorality was more prevalent in rather isolated, small communities, or rampant across Scotland in general, I can’t say. On Coll, those children were baptized when the transgressing couple paid their fines. I’ve yet to see an ensuing marriage mentioned in the minutes. A diligent researcher would compare dates in the kirk session minutes with parish register baptisms and marriages in hope of corroborating a family group.[1]

The following couple might look familiar if you saw my previous post, which referred to their second offense in 1835. I’m not deliberately picking on the McFadyens! ... whose surname I arbitrarily “standardize.” They were recorded in multiple variations as is the wont with Scottish names, the most common apparently being (choose Mc or Mac) McFadyen, McFadden, McFayden, McPhaiden, McPhadden, and so on. Quoting from the KS minutes, of course I use the spellings therein.

Coll Kirk Session Minutes, 1813-1844, GB 234, CH2/70/2; National Archives of Scotland
15 March 1833

At Arileod the Kirk Session of Coll met, Compeared Mary McFaden daughter of Lachlan MacFaden Tenant at Grimsary, Declared herself to be with child to Allan son of Hugh MacFaden Tenant also at Grimsary. She acknowledged that the first lapse took place about the beginning of September 1832 and that there were guilt between them repeatedly after that. The afore said Allan MacFaden did not appear. The Kirk Session delayed doing any thing farther in the mean time and ordered Allan MacFaden to be Summoned for Sunday first.

17 March 1833

Compeared Allan MacFaden acknowledged to have had guilt with Mary MacFaden Several times but as he would not own to be the Father of the child unless the said Mary MacFaden would make oath that he was the father of it, the Session was of oppinion that her oath should be taken which was done accordingly.

I find no marriage recorded in the parish for Allan McFadyen to Mary McFadyen after their second offense, nor indeed Allan to anyone else from 1821 to 1855. However, their daughter Isabel McFaden was baptized 15 July 1833, no date of birth given, the parents both residing at Grimsary (first offense, as above). Their son Donald McFayden was born in June 1835 and baptized 10 January 1838, the father at Grimsary, the mother, or perhaps the baptism, at Loanban (second offense, as previous post).

One of the genealogical points is that if either of the parents married later, depending on who raised the two children, those kids may be attributed wrongly to the current spouse. Another point is the importance of noting place names. On Coll at this time, the “places” were little more than a cluster of cottages for farm crofters and workers. That’s not to say that folk wouldn’t move from one place to another as necessity arose.

As a tenant at Grimsary, an Allan McFadyen fathered two children with Janet McLean: Jean born 19 September 1843 and Lachlan born 28 April 1845. Was Allan married to Janet or was he a serial offender for population explosion? Was there more than one Allan McFadyen at Grimsary? The parish register shows no marriage for Allan McFadyen to Janet McLean, and none for his erstwhile lover Mary McFadyen at Grimsary from 1835 onward. If Mary McFadyen moved to a different farm or community, she might be one of three Marys who married in Clabbach (1840) or Arinagour (1840 and 1852).

We know that many marriages and baptisms are missing from the parish registers. The main reason was probably whether the minister was on the island or not; historically, his parish included the Isle of Tiree as well and he had to spend time there too. So we can’t necessarily trust the absence of records to mean that events didn't occur. For Coll children born in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century, we can seldom confirm family composition with the use of the 1851 census when all household members are named. Sometimes the emigration of families, and their subsequent death/burial records, or marriages of their children, or other sources, if available, assist in the difficult process of identifying parental relationships.

However, children born in the 1830s and 1840s could show up in 1851 if they lived that long. There is an Allan McFadyen age 37 at Grimsary, Coll, with a wife Janet age 35; the head of household is Hugh McFadyen ... seemingly Allan’s father as above.[2] Allan does not have Isabel and Donald with him. The children are Flora 11, Jam 7, Lachlan 6, John 4, Mary Ann 2. Jam could well be an erroneous transcription for Jean (digital images are presently not shown on Ancestry). Baptisms for John and Mary Ann with these parents are missing.

It looks like Allan made an honest woman of Janet, but where did Flora come from?! Allan McFaden at Grimsary had a child Flora born 8 November 1839, baptized 1841, whose mother was Mary McLean at Arivorich. Flora age 11 in the census almost fits the age of this child. Did Allan take his and Mary McLean’s daughter into his household, or did the minister record Mary instead of Janet at the 1841 baptism?

From Part 1:
While I can find no marriage at all on Coll for a John McArthur 1821-1855, a daughter Mary was born to him and Mary McDonald in May 1835 and baptized 10 January 1838. Possibly this was the same John McArthur (the only one in the parish records of this period) who had children with Effy Kennedy at Grimsary in 1837 and 1838, at Gortan in 1840, and Arnabost in 1843 and 1845. John is described as a weaver in all the entries with Effy; while he sounds like a fairly established man, a marriage to Effy is missing.

Superficial searches like this merely emphasize the need for thorough study of original sources.

[1] Please note: the parish marriages and baptisms in this case were consulted from the transcriptions on Isle of Coll Genealogy for the purposes of this blog. Consulting the original parish entries on microfilm or Internet digital views are essential for due diligence.
[2] “1851 Scotland Census,” database, Ancestry.ca (http://www.ancestry.co.uk : accessed 8 February 2010), Island of Coll, entry for “Allar” McFadyen, p. 4.

Kirk Sessions Excerpts, Isle of Coll

Kirk Session records of the Church of Scotland throw illuminating glimpses into the lives of ordinary folk, as seen from the Presbyterian torch held high. Fines for immorality were collected by the Elders of the Kirk Session (or their appointees) and were redistributed to the needy of the parish. Immorality encompassed religious violations from not attending the Sunday sermon to illegitimate children. The system seemed to work well, notwithstanding cash or coin being rather uncommon items on a small island in the eighteenth century. The Isle of Coll, Inner Hebrides, Argyllshire, is the small island in question.

The Kirk Session records for Coll exist for a few years in the 1730s; after an unfortunate gap of more than a generation, they continue from 1776 onward. Physical life in an almost-subsistence community was difficult by our standards, and spiritual life could be stern. But these were—on the whole—hardy, energetic, good-humoured people.

First, let’s look at some typical samples of transgressions.

Coll Kirk Session Minutes, 1733-1813, GB 234, CH2/70/1; National Archives of Scotland
28 March 1734

The Session appoints Donald McEachan vc Terlaich vc Rory to pay three merks to a poor blind boy at Totronald, son to Neil McDhoil.

Coll Kirk Session Minutes, 1733-1813, GB 234, CH2/70/1; National Archives of Scotland
20 August 1735

The Censors appointed to mark such as were guilty of Immorality ... Hector McEwen reported that Callum McIllespig vc Cannel was pulling & gathering Heather on the Sabbath day. Ewen McDhor vc Echan reported that several women in Gallanach went late on the Saturdays to fish for eels and did not return untill the Sunday mornings. Muldoni McGhoun observed Donald McIan vc Innes stragling on the Lord’s day. It’s remarkable that Charly McDhoil vc Terlach stragles from place to place on the Lord’s day.

Coll Kirk Session Minutes, 1733-1813, GB 234, CH2/70/1; National Archives of Scotland
11 April 1784

Samuel McLean boat carpenter having left his own house on the Lord’s day & gone for Loch [a___n] for timber, was called by the Session for such an atrocious breach of the Sabbath, & did compear, he being asked his reasons for thus overlooking both Divine & human institutions, answered most impiously & impertinently that he did not consider himself as guilty of the smallest crime. The Session having explained to him the public [utility?] & blessing of the Sabbath to mankind & the nature of his sin, proposed to him either to pay a penalty or do public penance, whichever of which he would comply, but instead of this [______] language to the Session, upon which they wrote to some of the Members of the Presbytery relative to it, to which they claimed answers desiring us assist on his submission, otherwise put him under the lesser excommunication. Upon which he was summoned again & told his doom if he persisted on his refractoriness. The Session finding him pay no regard to their admonitions, & consider himself as not bound to submit to the laws of their society, do unanimously resolve henceforth to deny him all Christian privileges whatever, untill becoming sensible of his error he submits to the laws of the Church.

Coll Kirk Session Minutes, 1813-1834, GB 234, CH2/70/2; National Archives of Scotland
13 September 1835

Compeared John MacArthur at Totamore, and Allan MacFayden of Grimsary, John MacArthur acknowledges being the father of Mary MacDonald at Grimsary’s Child and Allan MacFayden acknowledges being the father of Mary McFayden’s Child. The Session agrees that they shall get their Children baptized on paying the fines. John MacArthur & Mary MacDonald’s fine is £1:13:4 and Allan MacFayden and Mary MacFayden’s fine is £3:6:8 ie being their second offence.

Next time ... More samples and genealogical implications.

Sunset Pushkar Camel Fair

Photograph Mary Ann Waring, October 2009.

It's been far too long since we had a camel break. There are other places where life is less complicated.

Historical Toronto: The Ultimate Map Book

Last September I talked about two old maps of Toronto. Some time later I just happened to be in the neighbourhood of The World’s Biggest Bookstore (that really is its name). If you can call a mile or two being in the neighbourhood. Odd, how the smell of books will lead to automatic detours *~*

A few hours of browsing, salivation, and sheer escapism are just what the doctor ordered. Did anyone ever leave a bookstore empty-handed? With mandatory canvas bag in hand, but never thinking to take a wheelie cart with me, I have to limit my selection each visit to save shoulder sprain (and a certain amount of budget anxiety).

I've recovered and picked myself up after a huge digression on the last post.
My latest treasure from a recent expedition. Derek Hayes is well-known for his marvellous atlases and map books, but this one was new to me. My city! Historical Atlas of Toronto won the Heritage Toronto Award of Excellence in October 2009. Published in hard cover in 2008, it also became available in 2009 in soft cover.

What delights therein, with such rare maps and accompanying commentary. Some publishing blurbs:

Lavishly illustrated with over three hundred maps, this new book charts the evolution of the city from its origins as a Native village to a French trading fort, to York, the capital of Upper Canada, and finally to Toronto, Canada's largest and most diverse city. Packed with archival photos and memorabilia to complement the maps.

* maps by early French traders and military surveyors, including examples from the War of 1812 and the American Civil War period of the 1860s,
* maps of the first surveys that influenced the urban growth of Toronto today,
* maps of railway lines, the Canadian National Exhibition and the fires that wiped out large swaths of the city,
* maps documenting the controversial development of the expressway network, from the 401 to the 407,
* maps showing the growth of suburbia, from postwar projects to recent subdivisions.

Each page is a revelation of new finds. I return to it again and again. How streets changed. How villages evolved, merged, disappeared. How businesses grew and moved. How the waterfront was reshaped. How services were structured.

History. Celebrate! Enjoy!

Derek Hayes, Historical Atlas of Toronto (Toronto: Douglas & McIntyre, 2008). 192 pages. Full colour. 9" x 12" format. Hardcover $49.95, paperback $34.95.

Maps

Do you love maps? I do. I can spend enormous, silly amounts of time staring at them. More time than I waste checking out Facebook :-D Maps hold anticipation, imagination, stories, dreams.

Getting there from here on contemporary road trips is not unlike some genealogical problems. You have to calculate a distant goal with probably some allotted time to complete your assignment (I’m stretching hard here, guys, to make a connection: A to B is not always a straight line).

No GPS system for this navigator; it takes away all the fun of savouring the colourful, hypnotic maps and tangled road lines and making your own route choices. Sitting at breakfast in the small-town café where all the pickup trucks are parked, debating today’s route, is an exhilarating measure of freedom—whether you are a sole driver or have the car packed with kids and assorted relationships. Taking freeways is far too boring. All those villages and towns and cities and special places to see. What will they really look like in 3-D and real time? What kind of people live there? Will I meet some? Do they speak like me or have “accents”? Can we find something in common to talk about? Or will I feel foreign?

A map of North America gives me a retrospective of the 49 American states I’ve seen, the 10 Canadian provinces (and still working on Mexico), a never-ending continent to explore. There! ... once a breakfast in Sweetwater TX, where patrons of the local diner were winding up for the Rattlesnake Festival; lunch on a deck over Chesapeake Bay MD, new to local history; dinner at the Plains Hotel in Cheyenne WY, new cowboy boots satisfactorily in place. ... Er ... not all on the same day, to be sure.

See: Here’s where the car broke down in Arkansas, an unforeseen stay in Bill Clinton’s hometown; there’s where my friend lives on Poor Farm Road in Vermont on Lake Champlain; the unsuspected and exciting gorge of the Saskatchewan River my cousin showed me; that atrocious hardtop from Valladolid to Mérida in the Yucatan, in pursuit of the alluring Gourmet Magazine hotel. How to reach that unique spot on the Bay of Fundy, or Canyon de Chelly, or Lime Rock racetrack in Connecticut which was always around the corner but never quite there like Brigadoon. An endless continent to explore! Snakes Bight NL, Savannah GA, Sturgis SD, I want them all.

Then I can trace all those wine-loving Bourgogne towns from Dijon to Lyon (the caves of Beaune and Mâcon highly recommended); the starkly forested highway from Finland to St Petersburg along which the rurals augment their meagre incomes selling smoked fish, firewood, mushrooms; the biblical sites on one of the Red Sea to Dead Sea routes; the foothills in Rajhastan where scampering monkeys routinely interrupt traffic, slight as it may be.

Of course, historical maps are best of all when ancestors are the great interest. Pre-First World War Eastern Europe. Eighteenth century Scotland. See how the old roads follow the rivers and valleys ... if there are roads. What are the significant geographic features that affected the inhabitants? Depending on what you know about your ancestor and the availability of map scale, are the villages or even farms shown? Are actual buildings of the period shown? Does it give you an inkling of where your ancestor slotted into local surroundings or status or ownership? How close can you get to or guess where country children rambled to play their secret games? Which town was the magnet for farm people heading to marketplace or church? Where was industry developing to pull young people away from the farm?

Whoa ... I began this post intending to convey my excitement about a map book of Toronto. Oh, how I DIGRESS when an ATLAS presents itself! Brenda resumes, after a disciplinary pause.

Lost Opportunities

Genea-Bloggers, if you have experiences like this, you have my permission to forward or adapt for the miscreant. Just tick the necessary boxes and fill in the blanks. It’s quite acceptable to tick off more than one box in a section.

Dear Cousin ______:

What a thrill it was for me to hear from you, a new relative, via—
□ postal letter
□ email
□ my blog or website
□ telephone

We made a connection thanks to your new interest in family history and definitely have a relationship—
□ 2nd cousins (add “removed” wherever necessary)
□ 3rd cousins
□ 4th cousins
□ half-cousins
□ step-cousins
□ et cetera

I understand the connection because—
□ your brief message connected some missing dots for me
□ I knew your grandparents (aunt, uncle, greats, whatever)
□ we can help each other fill in more blanks
□ I’m not a salesman, scammer, phisher, or otherwise idle person

After I shared my family research on your line—
□ I’ve heard no more from you
□ emails to you bounce back
□ your phone is disconnected
□ I ask myself if you have a website I don’t know about (with my stuff on it now?!)

To be honest, I am wondering if you are avoiding me because—
□ this new family history interest of yours had some ulterior motive
□ you think I’m an intrusive lunatic
□ you didn’t want to know your grandpa was a bigamist
□ twitter is your only sorry way of functioning with your fellow human beings
□ you went bankrupt since I heard from you
□ you are incommunicado in jail

Depending on the possibility of further communication, I am prepared to—
□ make allowances for personal problems
□ never answer you again
□ delete your whole family line of descent from my family history
□ sue your ass off for copyright infringement

With due respect,
______________________ , hardworking family historian

Tartans

What could possibly be more Scottish than tartan? (... please don’t call it plaid). Tartan is so identified with a special culture and country. Hasn’t every family of Scottish descent had a moment of wanting to wear/flaunt a tartan? A warm fuzzy feeling of belonging to a grand clan heritage? Or a more atavistic image connecting to bold, boisterous, fearsome warriors?
MacDougall wr567r; courtesy of Scottish Tartans World Register
Nostalgia ruled when I dug my old “Christmas” skirt out of mothballs in the cedar chest to savour the MacDougall tartan. Once it attended a reception for Coline MacDougall of MacDougall, 30th Chief of the Clan. Lately, the zipper has decided it won’t quite close. That made me think fondly of the Hunting Fraser jacket and skirt that I wore to rags as a young teenager.

What is the protocol these days about choosing or wearing a tartan? Is there a protocol? King George III and Queen Victoria did their bit to restore some tartan pride after the crushing defeat of the ’45. For a time there was a notion that we are only entitled to wear “our” clan colours. No doubt those clever little pocket clan books are still being sold—the ones where you looked up your surname to see if it qualified as a clan or a sept!

In their day, I’m sure our ancestors felt no restrictions on their warp and woof, slavishly matching their cloth with their clansmen neighbours. Historian and weavers are thankfully having their say now. There are at least two authoritative-looking websites for searching and learning about tartans: Tartans of Scotland (including "the Scottish Tartans World Register, to bring you the complete Register of all Publicly Known Tartans online, which includes details and images of over 2800 tartans.”) The Scottish Tartans Authority is another, but this site played havoc with my Internet browser so I gave up and used the former. Each site illustrates variations with the sources of their samples from ancient to modern.

Maybe we’ve come full circle. Now you can even have a personal tartan created and woven to order. The RCAF has a familiar one; so does Nova Scotia. There was a recent contest for designing a tartan for the City of London, England. The Isle of Coll was not to be outdone:
Visit Coll: http://www.visitcoll.co.uk/ >> “Coll” >> “Coll Tartan.”
The MacDougall search reveals 18 samples. Some of them vary wildly! MacFadyen offers three choices. And out of 22 Fraser designs, not one looked like my old brown hunting pattern! How much fun did you have on the site?
MacFadzean wr744r; courtesy of Scottish Tartans World Register

Did I ask what could be more Scottish than tartan? Don’t get me started on the bagpipes ...

Year End 2009

I’m waiting for it. Waiting for lists of earnest resolutions from my fellow Genea-Bloggers. Like the New Year follows Santa, resolutions follow wish lists ... the wish lists for obscure and frustrating ancestors to pop fully formed out of the blue. Resolutions then deal with the reality of finding them ourselves.

Most of said prolific fellows will undoubtedly accomplish most of their projected enterprises, and blog about it to boot. I’m going to take a pass on resolutions since I seem to recycle the same list of projects. See, I’m not in denial.

Come to think of it, I didn’t blog as frequently as most genealogists. What on earth was I doing all year? Some kind of personal 2009 Top Ten list might be more fitting ... Memorable Moments, Genealogical or Otherwise?

■ New correspondents were extremely valuable for me this year. A highly regarded historian in Scotland seriously addressed one of my McFadyen questions. Turns out she’s Canadian and we enjoyed a moment sharing memories of eccentric mutual acquaintances. Other interesting and gratifying Scottish contacts were made. Equally exciting was contact with a truly committed genealogist of Latvian descent who has the multiple language skills I envy.

■ My technical skills improved slightly beyond kindergarten. A major advance was learning to talk tough, without crying, to the ISP techies who messed up my whole system. After numerous expensive surprises, I drew the line at a new keyboard. A local Asian emporium provided me with cunning stick-on letters to cover the worn-off letters (was it the cheese and pickle sandwiches?). I am hot pink.

■ Quebec land records, even at second-hand distance, can be exciting “new” resources (blogged about under Fraser and Dougall).

■ My new publisher, Dundurn Press, kindly invited me to their Christmas open house and I believe it when they say they are Canada’s largest publishing house. Hundreds of authors turned out to drink and chew, each bearing a name badge with their latest book title. The throng was so crushing, who could read them (giving new meaning to in your face). Upon leaving, I was amused to see my latest book is called Details From a Larger Canvas. I wonder who the author of Genealogical Standards of Evidence is. February 2010 will tell. And the sub-title is changed to A Guide for Family Historians.

■ My game cousin-editor is reviewing the last McFadyen Family History draft. Her skills in the literary department are professional and I’m trying not to abuse her but she volunteered without prompting to go to the library to look at Evidence Explained. She might have passed out when the librarian staggered over with the 800-page bible. OK, it’s not a real moment, just my fantasy.

■ The OGS Conference is always an annual highlight and proved that our Ontario Chapter APG comes to the fore when events require (besides contributing a large component to the speakers’ roster). We ran our free consultations at “Ask A Professional” and even squeezed in a meeting. Genea-Blogger Steve Danko from California received his PLCGS from the National Institute; see Steve’s big grin.

■ Receiving the NGS Award for Excellence: Genealogical Methods and Sources was a unique thrill for me, a pinnacle in my mind. On the other hand, the news bypassed some of my professional organizations. Reality check: stay humble. Being nominated for Family Tree Magazine’s 40 Best Genealogy Blogs was also a pleasant surprise; results to come in their May issue. My breath is not on hold. “Vote early and vote often” takes the edge off.

■ The country’s greatest grand-daughter and future prime minister turned eleven this month. No camels in Vancouver, but I visited regardless. She’s more mature than some alleged adults I know. Since she already appreciates mystery fiction, how far can it be to real-life family history? :-) Granny treads lightly.


■ Adventure-trekker Bruce Kirkby wrote Sand Dance: By Camel Across Arabia’s Southern Desert (McClelland & Stewart, 2000), possibly the most beautiful book I’ve ever seen. He and some companions crossed the long Empty Quarter from Oman through Saudi Arabia to Abu Dhabi. FABulous photographs. He thanked me for my email thanking him. I’m in love again.

■ Some of the year was consumed with a significant family shift, viz., C3's departure for, and residency in the Netherlands. Mamma Mia has inspected the premises and declares approval of the situation. As does Wimpey, the international cat.

Little of my travel adventures in the above. Oh well, there’s always that New Year beginning soon. I hear Australia is having a problem with wild camels.

Page from seigneurial records of Argenteuil, St. Andrews: citation pending.
Photograph, “Wimpey at Home,” by CDM, 2009.
All other photos by BDM, 2009.

Advent Calendar: Christmas Music

The Genea-Bloggers’ Advent Calendar of Christmas Music asks: What songs did your family listen to during Christmas? Did you ever go caroling? Did you have a favorite song?

For me, the first and last questions centred for many years on a Christmas album published by The Kingston Trio back in the 1970s(?). The Trio found a wonderful collection of little-known and little-heard carols of both merry and poignant variety. Surely my children grew up listening to (and memorizing) those songs I played endlessly during the season. My old LP disappeared as music technology formats changed.

Unfortunately I can’t find many of those songs on YouTube, especially by the old K3, but here is one by Harry Belafonte from a Muppets Family Christmas. OK, I hope I got that URL right.

Other nostalgic Christmas melodies on the album I am sorely missing are:
“Go Tell It on a Mountain”
“Goodnight My Baby Goodnight”
“Children Go Where I send Thee”
“Gloucestershire Wassail”
I’m sure I don’t remember all the titles.

Question no. 2: Our first Christmas in rural farm living was a revelation in many ways. We were startled on Christmas Eve preparations—when we still had a marginal Santa youngster—by a ruckus in the front yard. What should appear, not eight tiny reindeer, but a sleighful of rosy neighbours bellowing Christmas carols. It was a sleigh because we had snow, lots of it. Pulled by a tractor, but nonetheless. We ex-urban people dithered over how quickly (unexpectedly) we could offer hot chocolate or appropriate toddies (knowing them better .. later .. they would have had their own reinforcements.) No thank you, they said, come join us, we have more concession roads still to visit.

What a heartwarming neighbourly tradition, and also not disappearing, I hope. Echoing words in the “Gloucestershire Wassail,” may I say to all my friends and readers, as if I was actually at your doorstep,
"Bless all in this house till we come again!"

Postcards: Newfoundland

A Festival of Postcards at Yvonne’s A Canadian Family blog, 6th edition:
“So this is your chance to share any of your black and white postcards, or colour postcards featuring white (think white sands and snow, White Cliffs of Dover etc.). As always, feel free to play with the theme. Do you have postcards depicting places that incorporate the word white (or bianco, blanc etc.)? How about a play on words (e.g. white elephant, it`s not black & white?) You’ve pretty well got carte blanche!”

I’ve always collected postcards. Their professional photography plays a large part to fill in my own amateur camera attempts, and trigger my memories of places I’ve been. They also represent faraway or intriguing places my friends have visited. This is my first time “playing” in this Festival and I found one of my favourites. It’s black and white, so it fits the criteria.
Caption on reverse:
“Submerged house being towed by a schooner. In November, 1929, a major tidal wave struck Newfoundland’s south coast, resulting in extensive property damage and the loss of more than twenty lives.”
– Produced and distributed by M & B Postcards, (709) 745-1908
– Photo courtesy of the Provincial Archives of Newfoundland and Labrador (reference PANL A2-149)

The postcard was mailed from Rocky Harbour NL on 7 August 2007 by my travelling daughter. A magnificent photograph that speaks to isolated communities and family salvage.

Dougall Part 6: Quebec Land Records

Remember the Quebec Family History Society (QFHS) duo who wished to use my guinea pigs to familiarize themselves with Quebec land records? My previous posts about them are Frasers Part 8 and Frasers Part 9. Thanks to Gary and Sharon (again), their efforts have led to more information about the DOUGALL family’s early days in the St. Andrews area ... information I could not have picked up by any other means.

The family patriarch John Dougall was said to have arrived in Quebec in 1834 (family outline here). I knew his farm was at a place called Beech Ridge, and this map shows the proximity of the 90-acre property to St. Andrews.
John Dougall’s name does not appear in the land records. Instead, his son George was the tenant of record in seigneurial books. In the 1842 census, John was in the Argenteuil seigniory and George was recorded nearby.(1) The first Dougall appearance in the seigniorial books was 11 November 1852 on what was then known as lot 20 south side Beech Ridge. But George Dougall of Montreal was paying the requisite rent from then until the last entry I see in 1873. His first payment was apparently to catch up with 1851 arrears as well as 1852. The annual payments began at about £1.7s. and increased only a fraction over the twenty years, although sometimes interest was added for late payments.

George was a tailor by trade who married Agnes Moffat in Montreal in 1842(2) and thereafter lived in the city. His father John was still located on the Beech Ridge property as a farmer in the 1861 census.(3) At that time John was at the advanced age of 78 and his household consisted only of his wife and a 28-year-old unmarried daughter who had become their caregiver. (Page by page searches of the 1851 census, and the Ancestry database, have not uncovered John.)

You can see the questions that arise. Why did son George assume the rent payments for the farm fifteen years before his father died? If John was still a farmer in 1861, who was working the land for him? He has no “ag labs” living with him. The absence of the agricultural schedule is a real loss.

There is a gap from George’s last entry in the seigneurial records (1873) until the first entry in the Index aux immeubles for the cadastral system (1884) when the property was now designated lot 713, Saint Andrews, Argenteuil District. That first entry was notarial instrument no. 9148 dated 18 December 1884, and the primary party was Robert McBride Dougall, a carpenter and joiner in Montreal. Who? I had to scramble into my totally messy old files. This was a son of George Dougall the tailor—I did have some bare information about this family.

That document occupied four full pages ... Robert “herein acting as well as for himself & in his own individual behalf, as being vested with the rights of his brother the late John Dougall, in the estate and succession of his deceased mother the late Agnes Moffat in her lifetime wife of George Dougall of Montreal tailor ...”. In short, the heirs of Agnes (Moffat) Dougall were selling their interest in the farm to their father George Dougall. At first it appeared that George Dougall Sr. had predeceased his wife Agnes Moffat but this was not the case. To make things a tad confusing, George Jr. had also married an Agnes, daughter of Robert Kirkby and Ann Harrison(4), and George Jr. had recently died. None of the dates of death are recorded.

Among the many genealogy nuggets to extract from the document were:
● Hugh Brodie was the acting notary;
● son John Dougall was deceased;
● sons James Joseph Dougall and Peter Dougall were living in Pembina Crossing, Mountain County, Manitoba;
● son George Dougall, organ trimmer, had died in Woodstock, Ontario, between the execution of his will 23 June 1881 and its probate on 19 January 1884, his sole legatee being his widow Agnes J. Kirkby of Woodstock;
● agent Sampson Paul Robins had power of attorney to act for the above three distant heirs;
● daughter Jane Dougall was the wife of Sampson Paul Robins;
● in addition to the farm at Beech Ridge, shares in the family residence in St. Antoine Ward, cadastral no. 816, were also included in the transaction;
● the sale price was $3,106.74.

George Dougall, Montreal tailor, then sold the farm the same day to John Francis Mitchell, farmer at Beech Ridge, document no. 9149, which added more nuggets:
● George first acquired the property by deed from Thomas Cochran on 19 March 1839;
● deed no. 1493 was registered in the County of Deux Montagnes registry office by notary M.G.T. Deluren [tight binding, difficult to read].

At last I have some documentation to show that the Dougalls were at Beech Ridge before the 1842 census. As yet I do not have the entire details of accessing and properly citing these land records. Gary and Sharon are pleased to add these resources to their own educational lectures and writing. Win-win.

(1) 1842 Census Quebec, Deux Montagnes County, Argenteuil Seigniory; LAC microfilm C-728.
(2) Dougall-Moffat marriage, Registers of St. Gabriel Street Presbyterian Church, Montreal; Archives of Ontario microfilm MS 351 reel 2.
(3) John Dougall household, 1861 Census Quebec, County Argenteuil, Saint Andrews, p. 243; LAC microfilm C-1261.
(4) “Quebec Vital and Church Records (Drouin Collection), 1621-1967,” digital image, Ancestry.ca (http://www.ancestry.ca : accessed 2 July 2009), Dougall-Kirkby marriage, 5 April 1875; citing St Jean Presbyterian Church, Montreal.

Cemeteries Part 9

That’s kind of a fake title to make the post inclusive of part cemetery, part travel, part religion, by an amateur in most subjects. In most of my travels I try to photograph or at least make note of cemeteries and burial customs in different countries, but it’s not always convenient to say “Stop the bus!” or “Stop the airplane!” when something interesting crosses the horizon.

The most unique burial ground I have ever seen is the Ganges River in India. A city called Varanasi on Mother Ganga, as the river is known there, is probably the holiest site of the Hindu religion. Northern India has experienced a drought for three years and the Ganga is one of the victims. Today, the flow of the river barely reaches the bottom of the Varanasi ghats (the steps down to the river bank) and there’s some mud involved. The city is thousands of years old as an inhabited settlement, long devoted to one of the forms of the god Shiva. Pilgrimage to Varanasi and bathing in the waters of the Ganga, alive or dead, will purify the body and assist in releasing one’s soul from the endless cycle of what we call reincarnation. Every day hordes of the faithful are immersing themselves in the holy waters. Men will strip down to the essentials but women enter fully clothed.
In Varanasi thousands of burials take place weekly by cremation. Many people come here to die so they are close to the river, or their corpses are brought from all over the country. The eldest male in the family as chief mourner takes charge of the purification arrangements. They include a fee for the use of a burning-ghat and a price for the necessary firewood from the ghat owner. We witnessed dozens of the rituals after dark at different stages. Out of respect, photography was a no-no. The bodies, clad in colours indicating male or female deaths, are first dipped in the river and then placed on individual fires. Mesmerized, we were told it takes 3-4 hours to burn a body to a smallish lump which is then consigned to Mother Ganga. A sunrise trip on the river confirmed the detritus of a culture dependent on the river for garbage disposal, sewage, laundry, and drinking water. Dead animals and unburnt bodies (such as young children) are part of the cycle.
Varanasi Postcard, pre-cremation purification. Our local guide, aptly named Krishna, informed us up front that he was a descendant of the warrior caste in Hindu society. Caste identification seemed important for almost every local guide we encountered. No doubt sensing our North American attitudes toward hygiene, Krishna explained in practiced fashion the results of a scientific experiment (bear in mind my lack of scientific terminology and general grasp). If you put a cholera bacterial strain into a bottle of “pure” water, it will take 24 hours to break down the toxins. If you place the same cholera strain into a bottle of Ganga water, the toxin will break down in three hours. “Break down” seems to mean made ineffective. The logic of this perforce lesson hovered uncertainly over our heads. I noted puzzlement on the faces of even medical and engineering professionals amongst us so I did not feel the only dunce. Krishna (above) also explained that the extremely wealthy owner of the largest, most popular burning-ghat was an Untouchable, a word now outlawed. Ghandi effected legal changes to caste discrimination more than 50 years ago, but cultural habits are alive and well. Krishna said the forbidden word “Untouchable” several times, not masking his contempt for a man who was the lowest of the low—that he profited from death seemed to be a secondary consideration. Reminded me somewhat of the solitary and often anonymous life of hangman executioners.

For a more colourful take on the situation, you could visit Mark Moxon’s Travel Writing. GeneaBloggers may ask if these deaths/burials are recorded in the state (Uttar Pradesh) archives. Sorry, the pall of wood-burning smoke and incense totally clouded my left brain.

McFadyens Part 10: So Many Donalds

One conundrum after another. How many McFadyens does it take to change a light bulb? Only about six if they all have the same name and are in the same place at the same time!

A Donald McFadyen came from Scotland to Cape Breton and received some land in the rear of Gut of Canso from the government. In 1825, as a single man aged 28, he petitioned to relinquish the land to his brother and take up a lot “between the Great and Little Harbours at Malagawatch.”(1) The request was approved. By 1826 Donald held a warrant for two such-described lots on Lake Bras d’Or.(2) We have to remember that a Crown grant of land was more than a one-step process. Final title to the land, the grant itself, would not be given until some settlement conditions or other obligations had been satisfied. Before that, transfers sometimes took place between individuals that may not be recorded.

Two baptisms naming a father Donald McFadyen at “Merigowatch” appear in the Belfast, Prince Edward Island, Presbyterian register.(3) Son Lauchlin was born 5 June 1826 and daughter Catharine born 2 February 1828. The PEI clergyman visited Cape Breton once a year in the late 1820s until the area had its own incumbent in 1830 or shortly thereafter.

At the baptisms, the mother of the two children was recorded first as Mary McLean and next as Mary Calder. The anomaly was apparently caused by confusion with Lauchlin McFadyen’s wife Mary McLean, a couple who were also having children baptized.

We think this Donald died at Malagawatch on 10 June 1869 at the age of 77, registered by Alexander McFadyen.(4) Surviving Nova Scotia BMDs of the nineteenth century are scarce. It’s amazing to find one relevant to your research. We know this Donald had a son Alexander who stayed “at home.” Better (best!) yet, Donald’s parents were named as Lauchlin and Catharine. See the names of his first two children?

So far so good? The single man of 1825 could have married and had two children by 1828. Let’s be clear this is not *my* Donald McFadyen the soldier of River Denys who arrived at Cape Breton in 1828. But the same-name syndrome entails a necessary exercise of separating their identities. And keeping them separate. For the time being I won’t go into the agonies of untangling statistics for two Donalds on the 1838 and 1861 (there is no 1851) census for Nova Scotia which are heads of households only.

Enter Donald2 McFadyen, son of Donald the soldier, who was born in Coll, Scotland, ca. 1818.(5) His descendants—I am not one of them—say he moved to Malagawatch to take up a 188-acre lot. It’s pretty clear he thrived there, as a number of cousins independently confirm.

So why is Brenda still scratching her head? Indeed, the Crown land map shows a 188-acre grant with Donald McFadyen’s name, on the southeast side of Little Harbour, actually on what was/is called Militia Point.(6) We are fortunate to have the Crown land map. Unfortunately, it does not show the dates of a grant. It usually has references to a certificate number, or a book and page number. Years ago an on-site researcher at Nova Scotia Archives and Records Management (NSARM) was able to say the 188-acre parcel was granted in 1836.(7)
The Crown land map shows another grant of 165 acres at Malagawatch with frontage on both Big and Little Harbours in the name of Daniel McFadyen. The relevant certificate no. 9030 has not been located yet. The 165 acres was almost certainly made to the Donald McFadyen who petitioned in 1825 to have land at Malagawatch. The description for him “between the Great and Little Harbours of Malagawatch” [italics added] is specific. There are only two lots in the vicinity that match this description. The 188-acre lot faces Little Harbour but has no access to Big (Malagawatch) Harbour.

On the 1884 Church map of residents/occupants, both properties still have “D.” McFadyen on them.(8) The one between the harbours also has the addition of D. McFadyen Jr. on it. However, the early Donald did not have a son called either Daniel or Donald that we know of, whereas “our” Donald2 had two sons with those names. The 1865 Hutchinson Directory lists a Donald McFadyen, shoemaker, at Malagawatch. Hmmmmm. And I thought they were all farmers, according to census returns.

Which Donald received which grant when? Who was the Daniel of the 165 acres? Were Dan’l and Don’l confused in English from the verbal Gaelic sounds? Where exactly did each one live? Who was “D. Jr.” later on? Did Donald of 1825 and his immediate descendants move elsewhere after 1836? The Donald McFadyen on Cape Breton before 1828 could only be from a different family—different, but perhaps still related in some way.

Clearly, all the evidence is not in. Access to more land records might help resolve the conundrum. Once more to the Maritimes? Not only NSARM, but the county land registry office in Port Hood, is calling me. “We Rise Again.”

(1) Donald McFaden, no. 3053, “Nova Scotia ... Cape Breton Island Petitions 1787-1843,” database, Nova Scotia Archives and Records Management (www.gov.ns.ca/nsarm : accessed 2 January 2009); citing NSARM microfilm 15799.
(2) Murdoch McLeod, no. 3142, enquiry re two harbour lots at Malagawatch ‘for which Donald McFadden holds a warrant,’ “Nova Scotia ... Cape Breton Island Petitions 1787-1843,” database, Nova Scotia Archives and Records Management (www.gov.ns.ca/nsarm/databases/land : accessed 10 May 2008); citing NSARM microfilm 15799.
(3) St John’s, Belfast, Prince Edward Island, Presbyterian baptisms, 1823-1849; LAC microfilm C-3028.
(4) Donald McFadyen, death registration no. 32 (1869), Inverness County, Nova Scotia, Deaths 1868-1869; RG 38, vol. 50, NSARM.
(5) Saint Lawrence passenger list (1828), RG 18, NSARM.
(6) Maps 110 and 117, Eastern Nova Scotia [Cape Breton], Crown Lands Record Centre, Department of Natural Resources, Halifax. See also “Publications, Maps and Digital Products,” Nova Scotia Department of Natural Resources (http://gov.ns.ca/natr).
(7) Index to Land Grants, Book 2, p. 62, NSARM; correspondence to author from Muriel Edwards, 25 January 1972.
(8) Ambrose F. Church, Map of Inverness County, Nova Scotia (Halifax, NS: A.F. Church & Co., 1884).

Wordless Wednesday

Hill of Crosses, Siauliai, Lithuania; photograph BDM October 2006.

Frasers Part 9: Quebec Land Records

Speaking of Quebec’s Land Register (in Frasers Part 8), I knew my John Fraser the farmer had been on the Rivière Rouge Road outside St. Andrews, Quebec (St-André Est) since 1806. It was not until the 1861 census that I could find the property defined as lots 21, 22, and 23. Obviously, John or his sons had acquired two adjacent lots in the intervening 55 years.

Map from Comte d'Argenteuil website.
With that information, my colleagues in Montreal were able to determine that the cadastral numbers were 592, 593, and 594 in St. Andrews cadastre, division (circonscription) of Argenteuil. The determination itself involved consulting a modern cadastral map to pinpoint and compare with the old property description. As Gary Schroder put it, “We only need one cadastral number to unlock the mysteries.” Although the 1901 and 1911 censuses provide space for a household’s cadastral lot number, the enumerator simply wrote Rivière Rouge for my Frasers. Sharon Callaghan found the necessary map and copied the Index des Immeubles for each lot. Then she chose a few promising-looking sample document numbers to pull.
Map provided by Sharon Callaghan and Gary Fraser from BAnQ, September 2009. Lot 594 is marked in colour.
Lot 594 was probably the original family land. Document no. 26647 was a declaration made by Angus Fraser, farmer in the parish of St. Andrews, on 22 November 1911. In essence, he said that the land was in the estate of his late parents: his father James Fraser died about 30 years ago, and his mother Anne McMartin, widow of James Fraser, died about 20 years ago, both intestate. Their only and lawful heirs in equal measure were Angus himself, Alexander Fraser, Annie Fraser, Catherine Fraser and Elisabeth Fraser. Alexander died intestate and unmarried about three years ago; thus his brother Angus and three sisters were his heirs. The declaration was written and sworn by notary Gaetan Valois and registered on 12 December 1911.

The next document of interest was registered on all three lots. No. 28757 was dated 23 November 1911 but not registered until 25 July 1914. Angus Fraser, Annie Fraser, Catharine Fraser and Elisabeth Fraser sold un droit de passage through their lands to the Canadian Northern Railway. The piece in question was a strip of land 100 feet wide, more or less following the River Rouge Road, for a price of $403.00 (piastres was the word used). This deed was drawn up by notary Joseph Evariste Valois of Lachute.

The last document I received was no. 38976 dated 9 November 1925, with the signature of notary Gaetan Valois of Lachute, registered 12 December 1925. Angus Fraser and Annie Fraser signed a deed of sale for all three pieces of land to Thomas A. MacAdam for a life annuity of $300.00 until both vendeurs are deceased. To show their right and title to the property, a number of declarations were included in the deed (each statement refers to a corresponding document number). The vendors were heirs-at-law of:
• their late parents, James Fraser and Annie McMartin, as per document no. 26647;
• their late uncle, Daniel Fraser, document no. 26648;
• their deceased brother Alexander Fraser, nos. 26647 and 26648;
• their deceased sister Catherine Mary Fraser, no. 38953;
• their deceased sister Elizabeth Jane Fraser, no. 38954;
• their late brother James Fraser Jr., no. 38950.

I expect the more recent documents would give a more exact date of death for some of them, but I do know that most are recorded in St. Andrews East Protestant Cemetery. One thing I find surprising is that all of these people died intestate! A note made later in the margin of the register book indicates that certificate no. 9115B was made 1 December 1939 to record the deaths of Angus and Miss Annie Fraser. The documents are register copies, of course; original papers were filed with the witnessing notaries.

The registry book in this case dates back only to the late 1800s, not far back enough to show any activity by my direct ancestors John the farmer or possibly his daughter Nancy. For that, seigniorial records for Argenteuil should be sought. Apparently they exist in the Montreal Branch of Bibliothèque et Archives nationales du Québec (BAnQ), but what kinds of documents they consist of, or what kinds of information they provide are unknowns. You can tell the end is not yet in sight.

Campbells Part 1: Ahnentafel Roulette

Randy Seaver likes to play games. He’s good at urging us to examine our ancestors with his Saturday Night Genealogy Fun. So I’m a bit tardy. Who’s keeping track? The idea was to calculate a random ancestor on your ahnentafel chart, so Randy calls it roulette. Ahnentafels are basically a pedigree system with a number for each direct ancestor. I cheated because the chart I’m consulting starts with my Dad instead of me so it’s all Scottish.

Plunging right ahead, my Dad would be 113 if he were alive today. Divide by 4 and round off. Let’s see, that must be 28.25. Rounded off Randy’s way, that makes it 29. An odd number guarantees it’s gonna be a female ancestor.

Say hello to my no. 29, Jessie McKenzie. Let’s not confuse her with my no. 13, Jessie McKenzie. Yes ... SIGH ... on top of too many John Frasers and Donald McFadyens, apparently I have two Jessie McKenzies. I probably have several Flora McLeans as well. Others with Scottish heritage probably share my desperate pining for an occasional Cassandra or Hortense to alleviate the pain.

That takes care of Randy’s first two tasks. Next up is tell us three facts about this person.
(1) Jessie was born 20 April 1782.
(2) Her place of birth was Dornoch in Sutherlandshire.
(3) She married Donald Campbell (oops, I see more than one Donald Campbell, damn!).

Whew, I made it, three for three. And how do I know all that information? Brilliant research on my part? Not exactly. My delightful cousin Madaline did all this work in her epic Our Campbell Legacy. It's so large I confess I haven't read every page yet. In what remains of my lifetime, I will never achieve what Madaline has accomplished. Fortune smiles on me that we share a lineage making us 4th cousins who have never even met each other in person.

I’m hereby writing this down about Jessie to fulfill Randy’s fourth requirement. Jessie and her husband Donald Campbell came to Cape Breton in 1817, probably on the ship Frances Ann among Rev. Norman McLeod’s followers. They settled on a land grant at St. George’s Channel (on Lake Bras d’Or) in a community that became known as Points West Bay in Richmond County. Their dates of death and place of burial are unknown and forgotten now. Perhaps I will have enough for a Campbells Part 2 one day, but I hope to have given Madaline a live hug by then!

Frasers Part 8: Infiltrating the Cadastral System

Information in the Land Register of Quebec (Registre Foncier du Québec) has been largely untapped by genealogists. Sharon Callaghan recently authored two articles in Connections, the quarterly journal of the Quebec Family History Society—vol. 30, no. 3 (2008) and vol. 31, no. 1 (2009). Sharon penetrated, for family historians, the complexities of the province’s rather unique history of land ownership and methods of accessing the documentation.

The Quebec Family History Society was formed in 1977 and I’ve been a member of QFHS since early days (no. 273). Sharon and fellow member Gary Schroder decided to work out some “real life” examples of land registry tracing. My ancestor John Fraser the farmer became a guinea pig. Not my John Fraser the blacksmith. John the farmer had lived on the River Rouge Road outside St Andrews, Quebec (St-André Est) since 1806.

In order to keep this post to a readable length, I’m merely introducing the Land Register of Quebec. It's a learning exercise for me, because it’s not a particularly easy subject to follow. My Fraser news and documentation, some of it still to come, will have to wait until Part 9.

How would a family historian find the history of occupancy and transactions on an individual property in the province of Quebec? To compare, most of my experience is with historical Ontario land records (say pre-1950). Once you know the name of a rural township with a concession and lot number, you consult the abstract index to deeds for that property. The abstract index is a short-form outline of all registered transactions on that piece of land dating from its original Crown land patent (title deed). Created in county and district land registry offices, southern Ontario abstract indexes were microfilmed by the Genealogical Society of Utah in the 1960s. Thus, they can be viewed at LDS Family History Centers, at the Archives of Ontario in Toronto, or at various smaller archives with selected film copies. Urban properties established in old town plans or subdivisions require somewhat more effort to trace back from a modern address.

Quebec, on the other hand, has a history of French seigneurial land grants, abolished in 1854, which overlapped with the English township land division dating from the 1760s. The present Quebec cadastral system evolved with new surveys from the 1860s and completed in the 1890s. The surveys had to take existing properties into account, but allocated new numbers for them within each cadastre or district.

The key is to identify the relevant cadastre (current land division) of the ancestral residence, and then sleuth with maps, surveys, directories, atlases, and every other possible source to determine a cadastral number for urban or rural land. Municipal offices can assist with if you know a street address.

Cadastral numbers are not the same as previous lot numbers, if indeed there had been a prior lot number. Armed with this special number and presenting yourself at the appropriate land registry office, you’ll be able to access the land register for the relevant property (similar to the abstract indexes mentioned above). The references (actes) in the register can include deeds, surveys, wills, and other notarial records going back to the lot’s cadastral establishment. One lot may require searching more than one number. The land registers began in the 1830s as land offices were set up. Sharon rightly celebrates that this is another way to find genealogically-rich but often elusive notarial documents.

An alternative, if you’ve found the required number(s), is to use the fee-based online database leading to the land register ... if you feel comfortable with the French language. The actes have now been digitized as far back as the oldest cadastre system. You can order a copy of any act from the register no matter its date. See full information on the Natural Resources website.

Before I even fully grasp the handle of this newly opened door, I’m asking, what about pre-1830 records? Ahhh ... think seigneurial document collections! ... a different ball game. The possibilities expand.

Historical Toronto: Berkeley Castle and Lost Buildings

"Berkeley Castle" Photograph by BDM 2009.

A lovely cluster of old buildings called “Berkeley Castle” has been renovated at the foot of Berkeley Street between The Esplanade and Front Street. They date from the middlish-1800s, including what was once a knitting mill. The present site has a pleasant courtyard and a unique appeal for small business occupants. The current owners have acknowledged some of the history, e.g. “In 1842 the site of Berkeley Castle Yard was occupied by orchards and sat at the water's edge. A formal garden and fairground existed there as well. Joseph Small, who was once mayor of the town, owned the property and built a wharf at the foot of Berkeley street.”

But long before the mid-1800s, I want to go back to when the Town of York was conceived and born. I’m not a historian or an archaeologist, but I have a story.

In 1793 Governor Simcoe selected a new capital for Upper Canada at Toronto Harbour. A muddy little town called York would spring up forthwith. Mind you, parliament was not in session here until 1795. Many officials were reluctant to move from their comfort at Newark (Niagara-on-the-Lake). The parliament buildings, aka Government House, were not completely finished until 1798. Their predominant site was on the east side of Berkeley Street, south of Front (once called Palace) Street. In the 1790s, Berkeley Street was the eastern town boundary.

Meanwhile, a number of plans and surveys existed for the town which occasioned plenty of angst among would-be residents and officers of the Crown. The governor’s office and the land committee were swamped with petitions for building lots and larger estates. Everyone wanted a prime location. Building contractors, carpenters and masons were in great demand from day one. Some properties were being claimed, and structures were being built, before land titles could be confirmed.

My interest was in a man called George Porter who was among the earliest arrivals from Newark in the summer of 1793. He took full advantage of the new opportunities. In his various petitions, Porter described himself as a “former sergeant of militia” or a carpenter. He erected one of the very first houses in the town, a log house on Lot 1, First Block. The lot was between Front and King Streets, bounded on the east by Berkeley and the west by what became Ontario Street (each block had several lots, sometimes of varying sizes, with a front and a back on differing streets).(1) Lots on the First Block along Front Street did not appear to include water lots across the street. Porter also had other irons in the fire, having a grant of land on the Don River and applications for other properties in York and Newark. It’s known that he had a wife and family in York by 1797.(2)

Enter John Small (1746-1831), clerk of Simcoe’s executive council, coming to York to take up his duties—John Small of the infamous 1800 duel which resulted in the death of the attorney-general and overshadowed his entire career (see Dictionary of Canadian Biography). On his arrival, Small decided the perfect spot for his new home was on Lot 1, First Block. He would be mere moments away from his work at Government House. But George Porter had already claimed it. The two men resolved Porter’s prior claim with Small buying him out on 31 August 1795 for $50 and a promise of completing the shingling.(3) They probably knew each other from their neighbouring town lot claims in Newark. Small would live in the house while planning his grand estate, intending for Porter’s house to become his eventual stable.

A lot of things never went smoothly for Small, a bureaucrat whose “work was soon badly in arrears.”(4) It must have been doubly aggravating for him, as the governor’s clerk and a permanent resident, that ownership and title for Town of York land grants often bogged down over conflicting claims—whose name was properly entered for which property by which surveyor or government official. Some lots, like Porter’s, had been allocated by surveyor Alexander Aitken before Simcoe requested surveyor David Smith to make another plan.

By 1805 Small was still trying to establish title to his desirable property whereon he had “his Cellar dug and the Frame for his House brought there 70 by 26 feet and the greatest part of it put together.”(5) Small stated Simcoe himself had initiated the delay for fear Small’s grand house would detract from the parliament building view. Actually, a government reserve had been declared early, perhaps another example of shifting survey boundaries, which may or may not have affected Small’s location. Nevertheless, apparently he eventually clarified his title and built his home.
Town of York, November 1813, from "Sketch of the Ground in Advance and including York, Upper Canada," by George Williams, Library and Archives Canada; as seen in The Town of York, 1793-1815 by Edith Firth, opposite p. lxxxi.

With trepidations from an amateur, some discrepancies are noted regarding site locations and other matters, although John Small was not my target interest and each and every known map of old York has not been investigated. I invite comments on the discrepancies.

Small’s home can be seen marked in teal (where I think it is) on the 1813 map of York. The location agrees with both Scadding(6) and Robertson(7), writing later in the nineteenth century, who say Small’s house was on King Street, i.e. facing King rather than Front. That makes sense if he modified his plan so as not to “interfere” with the Government House view. And also probably because Porter’s more modest house occupied a different part of the lot. By now it seems Small had acquired more than one lot in the First Block. But where exactly was Small’s stable, once George Porter’s house? Enquiring descendants would like to know.

Porter’s house could be any of the other buildings shown on the block, but (discrepancy) Firth says the log house was located on the southwest corner of King and Ontario Streets, which would place it in the Second Block.(8) Scadding provides information about Small’s original home, referring to a plan of the grounds.(9) I wonder where that “plan” is now, and what was its date?! The house had a “central portion and two-gable wings somewhat after the fashion of many an old country manor house in England. ... It was one of the earliest domestic erections in York [c. 1794]. When reconstructed at a subsequent period, Mr. Charles Small preserved, in the enlarged and elevated building now known as Berkeley House, the shape and even a portion of the inner substance of the original structure.” Charles Coxwell Small was a son of John Small. Scadding was a bit premature on his completion date (discrepancy), since Small was still facing a partially constructed building in December 1805.
Part of fold-out (1842) map in frontispiece of Toronto of Old by Henry Scadding.

So what we see on the 1842 map is a different outline of Small’s house (another discrepancy?)—it now appears to be set back from King Street. We can see the extensive orchards on the south side of Front Street where “Berkeley Castle” now stands. By then the son Charles had effected his renovations and presumably had acquired the water lot south of Front. John Small had a son and a grandson named Joseph Small, neither of whom was a mayor of Toronto (discrepancy) according to a List of Mayors of Toronto but some descendants did become involved in public service and politics. Landfill at the shoreline began in the 1830s and we can see here how the esplanade was being shaped south of the orchard. On the east, the parliament buildings have disappeared, having been burnt down in 1813 during the American invasion. The Small home was demolished in 1925.

My friend George Porter remained in York for a few years, attempting like so many others to acquire additional land grants like his more influential contemporaries. George disappeared suddenly in 1799, leaving a small family in his wake. And leaving scads of questions about his widow’s life after 1799 until about 1823 and where his children were in the interim! Now that’s what I call a mystery.

N.B. See an update on Small and Porter 

1. J.G. Chewett, “Plan of the Town of York, Corrected, 1827,”digital image, NMC 16819, University of Toronto Map & Data Library (http://prod.library.utoronto.ca:8090/maplib/digital/NMC16819.jpg : accessed 4 September 2009).
2. Christine Mosser, ed., York, Upper Canada, Minutes of Town Meetings and Lists of Inhabitants, 1793-1823 (Toronto: Metropolitan Library Board, 1984), 21.
3. Upper Canada Land Book F, pp. 359-361 (1805); Library and Archives Canada microfilm C-102. The entry includes copies of Small’s petitions in 1800 and 1801. Edith Firth in The Town of York 1793-1815 adds the details of the price.
4. S.R. Mealing, “John Small,” Dictionary of Canadian Biography, Vol.VI, 1821-1835 (http://www.biographi.ca/ : accessed 6 March 2009).
5. Land Book F, pp. 359-361.
6. Henry Scadding, Chapter 6, "King Street: George Street to the Bridge and Across It," Toronto of Old (1873; reprint Toronto: Dundurn Press, 1987). pp 137-138. Also available on Google Books (http://books.google.ca/).
7. John Ross Robertson, Landmarks of Toronto, Vol. 3 (1898; reprint Belleville, ON: Mika Publishing, 1974), insert p. 95 and p. 96.
8. Edith Firth, The Town of York, 1793-1815 (Toronto: Champlain Society/University of Toronto Press, 1962), 223; citing Ridout Papers at Archives of Ontario.
9. Scadding, p. 138.

McFadyens Part 9: Footnotes and Fantasies

I know, I’m neglecting the Dougalls and Frasers. Best to concentrate on one project at a time, to get the maximum effort into the story and the mechanics. Strike while the iron’s hot. Stop delaying and dallying with dreamy thoughts that a visit to the Isle of Coll is in my future and will somehow fuse everything together. Just because I saw the McFadyen homestead in River Denys (Cape Breton), doesn’t mean I’ll find a heap of stones in Scotland where my ancestors once lived barefoot and ate turnips. It doesn’t mean I’ll have a huge epiphany or a sea change or something. As I understand it, tourists often fail to grasp local colloquialisms, so they miss the healthy humour of today’s Collachs.
Who, by some reports, tend to party away half the night. This is how they raise money for a new community centre so they can have bigger parties. I'd never get any rest if I went.
Photograph "Arinagour Sunrise," Welcome to Coll (http://www.visitcoll.co.uk/wallpapers.php?g=1&w=1024&h=768). This is what happy Collachs see on their way home after a successful ceilidh.

But I digress. This was supposed to be about my resolve to shape up my McFadyen family history (Ancestors and Descendants of Donald McFADYEN and Flory McLEAN from the Isle of Coll, Scotland, to River Denys, Nova Scotia). The cards are on the table and the iron is in the fire. I confess: I’m a manual, word-processing, do-it-yourself family history writer. The shaping up means checking every footnote, about 200 at last count, for proper standards and consistency. Elizabeth Shown Mills’ Evidence Explained is THE guide, not to mention her QuickSheets for citing online sources. A good footnote/citation checker will pay the greatest attention to each note in sequence. A not-so-good checker, like me, will get distracted by each note and start rummaging through files to see if I missed a nugget or go online to search/add more information or start bugging the relatives again. It gets painful when I find myself subscribing to more databases or waiting for new bits from phone calls and postal mail.

Discipline is absolutely necessary to stop the straying and go with what I’ve got. Otherwise, as all writers and historians know, the job will never end. We want to research, write and edit forever. And let me tell you, I acknowledge that 200 footnotes are a modest pittance compared to the ambitious projects I see other genealogists undertaking. Sigh. Will anyone in my family ever understand why I’m doing this the way I’m doing it?

Then I must check my genealogical numbering system, including all those superscript numbers and when they should be italic or not. My suspicion is that I may have mixed the Register system with the NGSQ system sometimes. You’d think I would have used Numbering Your Genealogy: Basic Systems, Complex Families and International Kin (authors Curran, Crane and Wray, Special Publication no. 64 from NGS, 1999) from the get-go, avoiding this retro situation. Well, this perfect booklet was published way after I’d started my constructing. Too late to wipe it out and start again from scratch.

You can take a car on the ferry from Oban to Coll, but why bother when you can rent a bicycle on an island measuring about 3 miles by 12 miles. I’m only seeking a driver from Edinburgh to Oban who won’t kill us driving on the wrong side of the road. Might as well keep the dream alive.