35 Years of Puslinch Pioneer

Dear readers, a break from the tedium of Frasers, McFadyens, Dougalls, et al.
With a mixture of pride and humility, I congratulate the Puslinch Pioneer on its 35th anniversary this month.

Wot, you say? What is a Puslinch? And why does it have a Pioneer?

Puslinch is a township on the south end of Wellington County, south of Guelph, Ontario. It has almost two hundred years of history as an agrarian community, settled predominantly by Scots, with good pockets of Germanic and English natives. Enviable farms, churches, and villages grew. The inhabitants shared typical rural customs and traditions—maintained despite increasing 20th century pressures on three sides from Guelph, Hamilton, and Waterloo Region. Highway 401 came to intersect Puslinch; commercial gravel production flourished; commuters with city jobs began invading to find quiet homes; Guelph began annexing land for its own mushrooming satellites.

In 1976 two youngsters were surveying the vast vegetable garden my late father-in-law had lovingly cultivated on my century farm. Incomers, both of us. Grumbling about the lack of official council communications that affected local life. Grumbling about arms-length suspicion from our entrenched farming neighbours. We didn’t want to live in a bifurcated community. We wanted to signify our empathy for both tradition and the changing reality. Also, we were a bit giddy from liberal ingestion of anti-allergen medication. Late spring, you know. 

The Puslinch Pioneer was born. As a newspaper circulating within the township, it aimed to bridge the conscious gap between “us and them.” We began with a $100 donation and a borrowed gestetner! Initially, suspicion deepened, if anything. But we learned a great deal about things agricultural, historical, and political. Running on a shoestring, we worked out delivery methods to township homes. We exposed some shady practices of the council and its administration. It took time for acceptance, ... not without controversy.

The ink flowed. Supporters emerged. Advertisers slowly overcame  their shyness. We went to commercial printing. New reporters joined us. Editors changed from time to time.
 
Yes, the old-timers were right. The incomers did change the local demographic. But slowly, gradually, the newspaper’s advisory board began to reflect the “old” township names. Not only acceptance, but togetherness. Today the Puslinch Pioneer is a tradition in itself, a vital community organ. It’s the only newspaper in Ontario consistently operating with all volunteer personnel. Possibly in Canada.

 Take a bow, Puslinch. Hearty congratulations from a founder to the memorable contributors who worked so hard over 35 years! 

Frasers Part 15 (Inverness-shire)

A speculative hypothesis to add to the mix: Did my mysterious John Fraser “from Inverness-shire,” the farmer at St Andrews East in Quebec, have a brother called Donald? ... more searching for clues to his origins.
  
A Donald Fraser appears in the 1825 St. Andrews census in the age category of 25-40, with a wife and four or five children.[1] The poor microfilm quality and continuing folio pages of these early census returns make it extremely difficult to follow some columns with certainty. Donald’s location is on the east side of the River Rouge Road, same as John. He appears again in 1831 when his household of youngsters expands, still ranging from under the age of 5 to the age 14 and under 18 category.[2] His own age is between 30 to 60.

Then Donald and wife Mary McLean of River Rouge had a daughter Marianne baptized 19 September 1833 by the minister of Chatham.[3] After that he’s not to be found. 

Donald’s age is rather critical for a potential relationship. The census age category opens a birth window of approximately 1785-1800. Any parents in Scotland looking the same as John’s? A couple with both an appropriate John (ca.1776) and a Donald? A possible match is in Kiltarlity, a Donald baptized 19 March 1797 to father Alexander at Easter Cluim, mother un-named. (A son John was baptized 24 Nov 1776 in Kiltarlity, father Alexander at Ballehagan). Ah, yes. The recurrent, ubiquitous Alexander whose-wife-is-not-named (no doubt one of several Alexanders-whose-wives-are-not-named). But hey, a man could have moved to another farm within the parish in the intervening 21 years, right?

Without putting the cart before the horse, does it stand to reason a man born in 1797 would have four children by the age of 28? Barely! Allowing for the usual two-year birth interval, Donald would have had to begin fathering at the age of 20 and we assume a marriage before that. As far as I know, that’s rather young for your average hard-working Scots farmer in those days. For the sake of argument, let’s assume the Donald of 1825 was more like age 35-40. Still, he is a needle in a haystack at ScotlandsPeople if his baptism was indeed recorded.  

Alternate theory ... could Donald have been a hitherto unknown oldest son of John our farmer? What does ScotlandsPeople tell me? Recorded baptisms do not uncover a couple called John and Ann Fraser with two such sons. No joy here. Meanwhile. This focus on Donald forced me into some analytic acrobatics.  

Daniel Fraser “in Argenteuil,” married Mary McLean of the same place on 17 February 1823 in Montreal, “being both of them arrived at the years of maturity.”[4] Witnesses were Allan Cameron and James Mc[Ewen?]. Wouldn’t you know it, this begs more questions:
■ How interchangeable were the names Donald and Daniel? Phonetically, to listeners and even among Gaelic-speakers, it was close. The written record could depend on the scribe’s ear.
■ Is this the Donald of the 1825 census? Only if he’d been a widower when he married in 1823, because two years later he had four or five children. Mary is described as spinster in the marriage record, but the status of “Daniel”is unremarked.
■ How mature is “maturity”? Rev. Robert Easton of St Gabe’s used this phrase often in marriage records, so it may signify no more than the parties were 21 years of age or older.
■ Could Daniel be the son of some other Fraser in Argenteuil? In the 1825 census already mentioned, my John had an eligible male, but he was not a Donald or a Daniel. Our subject Donald did not have such an eligible male in his household. Another John Fraser at North River had only a wife and a young girl.   

Information gleaned in the St. Andrews area points to a Daniel Fraser. He was a witness at the 1821 baptism of John Fraser’s daughter Elisabeth.[5] Again in 1845 Daniel was recorded at the burial of my John’s son Charles.[6] The timing between the two events is almost a whole generation.

Oh, did I say? My John named his sixth son Daniel, born 21 July 1824.[7] He could well have been the man at the burial because Donald-with-so-many kids was not “seen” in the area after 1833.

Moreover, a Donald Fraser “of Argenteuil, parish of St Andrews”[emphasis added] and wife Mary McLean had a son born 29 May 1823, baptized 4 March 1824 in Montreal.[8] Is this “Daniel” of the 1823 marriage? What are chances of both a Donald Fraser and a Daniel Fraser from the same place having a wife Mary McLean? I tend to think this couple was just in the nick of time to baptize a “three-month” baby. Could be that’s why they chose a church other than their 1823 marriage location. Indeed, one might ask why Donald was apparently avoiding the Presbyterian minister at St Andrews, who’d been available since 1818. 

So we have a family man Donald at St Andrews/River Rouge 1823-1833 minimally, in close proximity to John. Then we have a Daniel present at the 1821 baptism, who married two years later. Perhaps there was a rather short interval between the death of Donald’s first wife, mother to most of the 1825 children, and his new wife. Despite the forename variation and all too brief appearances in meager sources, I’m concluding for now that they are one and the same man. “Mary McLean” is the common thread that binds them. Whether it’s convincing remains to be seen. 

An interesting exercise—but no light bulbs illuminating a relationship to my John, nor to their origins in Scotland. Surely sources are not totally exhausted yet.

[1] Donald Fraser household, 1825 Census Quebec, York County, Argenteuil Seignory, p. 1276; Library and Archives Canada (LAC) microfilm C-718.
[2] Donald Fraser household, 1831 Census Quebec, Terrebonne, Argenteuil en Deux-Montagnes, [east side] route de la Rivière Rouge, p. 1854; LAC microfilm C-723.
[3] Eileen Whillans, “Church of Scotland Records, Argenteuil, Quebec,” [transcript of Chatham Presbyterian Church records], Prescott County GenWeb (http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~onpresco/chatham.htm : accessed 8 April 2008). Online access to the transcript has since been removed.  
[4] “Quebec Vital and Church Records (Drouin Collection) 1621-1967,” digital image, Ancestry.ca (http://www.ancestry.ca : accessed 10 June 2011), Fraser-McLean marriage, 1823; citing St Andrews Presbyterian Church (Montreal, Quebec).
[5] St Andrews Presbyterian (St Andrews East, Quebec), church register 1818-1827, Fraser baptism 1821; LAC microfilm C-2905.
[6] St Andrews Presbyterian church register, 1827-1850, Fraser burial 1845; LAC microfilm C-2905.
[7] St Andrews Presbyterian church register, 1818-1827, Fraser baptism 1824; LAC microfilm C-2905.
[8] “Quebec Vital and Church Records (Drouin Collection) 1621-1967,” digital image, Ancestry.ca (http://www.ancestry.ca : accessed 10 June 2011), Fraser baptism, 1824; citing St Gabriel Street Presbyterian Church (Montreal, Quebec).

LABELS: Frasers, Inverness-shire, Argenteuil, St Andrews,

Silent Sundays

The view from my window

Dear Blogspot dot com:
Why do I have to fight you all the time to make a PHOTOGRAPH appear on my blog? Or for that matter, why photos disappear from previous blogs? It's not just MY issue!
Yours truly
BDM

Frasers Part 14 (Inverness)

Another gasp at finding the origins of my Inverness-shire John Fraser. Let’s take a different tack. Who were the associates and neighbours of John Fraser on the Rivière Rouge at St Andrews East in Quebec?
Attention to the “FAN Club”can be effective for uncovering clues to ancestral roadblocks.

The seignory of Argenteuil was sold by Louis Panet on 24 May 1793 to Patrick Murray, Major in the 60th regiment, “former commandant of Fort Detroit.”[1] Furthermore, says the website, the seignory was again sold in 1803 to “Mister James Murray” and in 1808 to Sir John Johnson (some of the documents are posted online). Murray encouraged Scottish settlement in the area without organizing any migrations. A few prior inhabitants were there by 1800, a mixture of Canadiens, Loyalists, and New Englanders. The compiler of the principal local history did not always mention origins, generally or specifically.[2] Occasionally cemetery inscriptions provide such information.[3]

John Fraser’s two eldest sons married daughters of a nearby farmer, John McMartin. Local lore says John McMartin was from Glenlyon, Perthshire, settling at River Rouge by 1802.[4] Among many community activities, McMartin presided over the formation of the County of York [Quebec] Agricultural Society in 1826; his “fine old homestead” moved out of family hands in the 1890s. Another McMartin family was from Stirling, Perthshire.in 1830.[5] The Dewars came from Glasgow in 1804.[6] Other Scottish families were from Ayrshire (McAdam 1849), Argyllshire (McCallum 1820), Perthshire (McEwen 1818, Young 1825), and so on.

Comte d’Argenteuil (http://comte-argenteuil.com/ACe.htm).

In other words, Rivière Rouge was not a cluster of families that arrived at the same time from the same overseas community. Settling slightly farther afield was Angus McPhie from Fort William, Inverness-shire, upriver at Chatham in 1802.[7] John Cameron also came from Fort William about 1802, putting his roots down in Côte du Midi. He was an early witness for Fraser family baptisms. That may be as close as I come to an Inverness-shire link. Fort William was in Inverness-shire’s southernmost parish(es) of Kilmallie & Kilmonivaig.

For a time the churches and shops and services of St. Andrews village became a centre for outlying clusters—Riviere Rouge, Beech Ridge, North River, Côte du Midi, Carillon, Geneva, and so on upriver as they developed. Irregular visits from Presbyterian clergy commenced about 1815; prior to that, Anglican clergy were sometimes available. Most of the Scots seemed to be interchangeable witnesses at each other’s marriages and child baptisms. Many descendants of the pioneer families had moved on in every direction by the time Thomas published his book in 1896, when the demographic of the place had altered.
 
The land records I have been able to obtain with regard to John’s tenure are minimalist seignorial entries with no illumination of the parties involved. John bought his property claims in 1806 from Alexis Campeau and someone called Newton, from Stephen Tuttle in 1818, and more in 1824 from Campeau. Some were likely absentee owners. Tuttle was likely connected to a documented Loyalist family, and for some time lived on the next lot to John.

John Fraser was still living at the age of 84 in the 1851/2 census.[8] Among his neighbours on the agricultural schedule were various McMartins and other familiar pioneer names—Gray, Dochstader, Cameron, Wales, Stackhouse, and many more, without creating an incredibly long blog post. Old John Cameron was still alive too, at age 88 ... where the census revealed his wife’s name as Catherine McIntyre.[9] Well, what a coincidence (gleeful smile), since my John’s wife was Margery McIntyre! I don’t know enough about these McIntyres yet, but there was a total of only three in that enumeration. John Cameron’s first “appearance” was at the baptism of John Fraser’s daughter Anne in 1812 by Anglican minister Rev. Richard Bradford.

Another neighbour in the 1851 census raised a flag that will need addressing in a future “Fraser (Perthshire)” blog post. Meanwhile, this exercise did yield some tidbits to explore. Endless, isn’t it?
   
[1] Alain Chebroux, Comte d’Argenteuil (http://comte-argenteuil.com/ACe.htm).
[2] Cyrus Thomas, History of the Counties of Argenteuil, Quebec and Prescott, Ontario (1896; reprint Belleville, ON: Mika Publishing, 1981).
[3] Suzanne LeRossignol and Pennie Redmile, compilers, St. Andrews East Protestant Cemetery (Pointe Claire, QC: Quebec Family History Society, 1990-1991).
[4] Thomas, History of the Counties of Argenteuil ..., 86-88.
[5] Ibid., 148.
[6] Ibid., 82-86; 164.
[7] Ibid., 95.
[8] 1851 Census Canada East, district 33, Deux Montagnes, subdistrict 526, ED 11, parish of St. André, sheet 46, stamped p. 91, John Fraser household; LAC microfilm C-1147. Also the Agricultural return for same, sheet 2, stamped p. 99; LAC microfilm C-1147.
[9] Ibid., sheet 21, stamped p. 41, John Cameron household. Also Agricultural return, ibid.

Books You Need if You Have These Genes

Possibly some of the family members will find this of interest. If I could afford to buy hundreds of copies for the relatives, I would, but I can’t. Blogger is playing its frustrating silly buggers game again with uploading images, so if they don't appear as instructed you won't even be reading this!

NEW! My Latvian Ancestors. (May 2011). 72 pp., illustrated. $22.00. UniBook.
The sub-title does not appear on the cover:
FREIBERGS from Ķonēni, Marzingshof Estate, Riga District
JURIKAS in Krūmiņi, Ladenhof Estate, Limbaži District and Allied Families

Never mind, it's all there inside. With the help of new friends, good researchers, many relatives—who speak and read languages I don't know—and the amazing digitization of Latvian and Estonian historical records, we have reached back about 300 years. The Baltic genes are survivors. I say Baltic, because the Livonian origins of the Jurikas family reach back into the mediaeval mists of what is modern Estonia.

"Family memories, overseas researchers, and modern technology enabled a genealogical glimpse into life under Russian Imperial, then Soviet, rule. This book is a tribute to hardship scarcely imaginable from our Canadian distance of place and time. It is also a celebration of nine generations from serfdom to freedom."

The compiler’s shortcomings notwithstanding, this type of production has been a satisfying process, all things considered. It is not an e-book; it’s a soft-cover paper copy in living colour. UniBook does a wonderful job reproducing photographs.

Family histories that reach the print stage always draw more information. More news is already coming from Riga. That's why I have a BLOG! Without a doubt, to be continued ... If you have questions, you know where to reach me, my full name @gmail.com.

Also available from UniBook:

Ancestors and Descendants of John DOUGALL and Marion HASTIE from Midlothian, Scotland to Argenteuil County, Quebec. (January 2011). 59 pp., illustrated. $18.98.

Ancestors and Descendants of Donald McFadyen and Flory McLean from Isle of Coll, Scotland to River Denys, Nova Scotia. (December 2010). 73 pp., illustrated. $21.05. (Family chart available from compiler)

This is the one on which said compiler neglected to add a brilliantly chosen cover photo. My bad. Live and learn, I always say. Luckily I learn something new every day.  Whether it's good for me or not.

So, Blogger people. I keep bumping my head on some invisible ceiling where the learning curves go off my personal graph. This post took about two hours of torture to assemble, not even trusting that the images currently displayed will whimsically disappear as they have from prior posts. I'm tired of looking at Blogger Help and pursuing all that, helpful as some users are. Maybe it's time to change platforms or whatever they're called. My FB colleagues will surely have wisdom and comfort for me.

FOUND

Genealogists who blog are called Geneabloggers (at least the ones who find mutual fellowship among the growing Geneabloggers network, and who try to keep up with following each other; we are nearing the 2,000 mark as Thomas keeps us updated). Many of us (most?) have not met each other in person. Never mind: personality and character come through in the written word. Support, assistance, and comfort are always being offered.

Thanks to Greta at http://gretabog.blogspot.com, I believe I've identified an important ancestral portrait that long eluded me.

OTTO FREIBERGS (1855-1906)

 

No-one had written on the back of this photograph to identify the man. It was in my “Latvian Collection” from my mother and grandparents. Some members of my two major families left Latvia well before the First World War, so photographs were constantly being sent from those who stayed behind. The man could have been from either of my two families who lived in quite separate places in the old country.

Although over the years I had different volunteers translating letters and postcards in Latvian and Russian, I had overlooked this one. All it had on the back was a faded, stamped inscription in Cyrillic script.

Serendipity glowed to life when Greta picked up on one of my blog posts and offered Russian translation. The scan was sent. YES! It was merely the photographer's stamp, BUT his address was Sissegal. The town named Sissegal (German) is Madliena (Latvian). You have to know something of the contemporary political powers in play to appreciate the Latvian-German-Russian place name variations. 

That was the crucial identifier. My Freibergs lived close to Madliena, a town of some authority in the district. My Jurikas family lived nowhere near there and would have had no occasion to visit the town, especially for a photography sitting. Otto did. Elected by his fellow parishioners, he had become a prominent reform leader in the district.

In fact, it was to Madliena that district police force-marched him, under orders from the embattled Vatrāne (German: Wattram) estate owners, to face a firing squad on 4 February 1906.

Thank you, Greta! Geneabloggers are the best! Thank you also to Callie who also offered language assistance (what will I find next in the archaeological-genealogical midden?!).

 

Silent Sundays

Alice's urban garden; photo BDM May 2011.

Frasers: Part 13 (Inverness)

Already mentioned — the serious gaps in Highland parish registers make this an exercise based on incomplete information. It’s true that a few churches went without a local minister at times, but also “... it is to be regretted that the entries were not by any means regularly made, and this circumstance is probably owing to a strong prejudice which obtained against it in the minds of the people, as from any remissness or neglect on the part of the clerk.”[1] Yes ... the Highlander’s aversion to “outside” authority.

Back to the drawing board in the search for potential parents of John Fraser of Inverness-shire, Scotland, and Argenteuil, Quebec. After viewing the ScotlandsPeople images, Alexander featured more frequently as a father’s name; the name James Fraser was less common and cast up but one father prospect. I’ve added some comments about the entries. Extra detail in the records varies from one minister to another.

The latest nominees for this desirable position are:
❶ Alexander Fraser in Ballehagan whose son John was baptized 24 November 1776 in Kiltarlity parish, mother not named. This one entry meets the estimated birth year of 1776. No witnesses were noted. Examination of the Kiltarlity OPR on ScotlandsPeople showed that the Kiltarlity church minister habitually, annoyingly, ignored the names of mothers. But he did usually record where the father resided, a farm called Ballehagan in this instance. The entry specifically mentions that the Rev. Mr. Alexander Fraser at Kirkhill performed the baptism. Kiltarlity and Kirkhill were adjoining parishes and each had more than one church.
❷ Alexander Fraser and Isabel Fraser, parents of John baptized 7 September 1777, parish of “Boleskine/Abertarff or Ft Augustus.” Alexander was described as “Head[?] of Tenant in Glendoebeg”; baptism was performed by Mr Peter Grant. No witnesses. Another case of several churches widely scattered within one parish. And this triple-barrelled place name was familiar from a John Fraser-Ann Fraser couple having children baptized there 1794-1797. Isabel is a name not repeated in my family.
❸ Alexander Fraser in Wester Kirkhill and Margrat Fraser were parents of John baptized 25 May 1778, Kirkhill parish. Witnesses Alexander Nichol and James Huston[?]. Likewise, Margaret is not a name among my John’s children or descendants.
❹ Alexander Fraser in Culloden and Mary Fraser were parents of John baptized 3 August 1778 by Mr. Robert Rose, Inverness parish. Witnesses Thomas Fraser and [blank] Smith in Culloden. Alexander was not called a labourer, which the minister was careful to point out for many others. Mr. George Watson seemed to be most prevalent minister mentioned in the register, so Mr. Robert Rose may hold a clue. Our John named his 4th daughter Mary.
❺ James Fraser, father of John baptized 11 November 1772, Kiltarlity; mother not named. Father’s residence was in Brearachy/Buarachy. Witnesses were William McPherson in Teatore[?], Hugh Fraser in Foxhall.

It was customary for the Presbyterian clergy to be addressed as Mr. So-and-so; the man performing the baptism seems to be named if he was not the usual incumbent. Ministers’ names may also be clues to a particular church location. Unfamiliar place names (likely local farms or hamlets) would need exploring IF any of this will gel.

Do any of these “parent” parishes correspond to the (negative) marriage search for ancestor John and his first wife Ann Fraser  ... assuming he married in the place of his birth? Hardly. The best I can say is that the parishes of Kirkhill, Kiltarlity, Boleskine, and Inverness are common. Each presented its own assumptions and problems in attempts to find correlations.

On such slim pickings do hypotheses flutter. I need to shake this loose till all the available pieces fall out.

Next: the FAN club. Some of you know what I mean.

[1] Kiltarlity, Inverness, Scotland, FamilySearch Wiki 
(https://wiki.familysearch.org/en/Kiltarlity,_Inverness,_Scotland_Church_Records : accessed 23 April 2011), citing New Statistical Account of Scotland (1841).

George Porter Part 5: The Doctor and Others

... continuing a small series of less-than-exhaustive searches for two mysterious George Porters.

It’s been a while. Poor George Porter and his doppelgangers must be silently resentful at my neglect. What I’ve been doing overall—I think—is examining not only what might have happened to George Porter of Niagara and York (The Carpenter), why and how he disappeared, but also where he came from. A subsidiary interest developed when another George Porter (The Prisoner) appeared. Further characters were introduced here and here.

I’m down to the outer ring of a bull’s eye chart around both the George Porter who was one of the first residents of York, and the George Porter imprisoned in 1814 in Upper Canada’s London District. Do we have potential fathers, brothers, cousins, or a few wretched coincidences? Neither George is to be confused with Pennsylvania native George B. Porter who became territorial governor of Michigan from 1831 until his death in 1834![1]

The Doctor
Very little is known about medical doctor Francis Porter who practiced in Niagara. Canniff says he was from Montreal and trained in Edinburgh;[2] Carnochan says he was a former army surgeon from Edinburgh.[3] He died in Niagara in 1840.[4] His brief, unrevealing obituary included the line, “The beauty of his only daughter was often spoken of.” The daughter was Maria Jane Porter who in 1850 wed George Maxwell, the customs collector at Grimsby.[5] There is no probated estate for Francis to help out in this regard.


The Person of Interest Part:
With no age or date (except year of death) does the doctor’s timeline coincide at all with our George being in Newark by 1792? As an ex-army surgeon, Dr. Francis could have served with a regiment in the War of 1812, or perhaps even earlier in the European conflict with Napoleon. If so, did he come to Niagara with the regiment he joined, or had he retired sooner? Having a daughter born say 1825-1830 seems to indicate he was a mature man by at least the 18-teens. Not likely the father of a grown man in jail in 1814. More of a contemporary, stretching an outside chance of being brothers?

The Drouin Collection on Ancestry.ca has evidence of several Porters in Montreal, but no marriage or likely birth/baptism for a Francis. I say likely because a Francis William Porter “age about 9” was baptized on 7 December 1814 to parents Jacob Porter, a tailor, and Mary Goodhue.[6] Barely time enough to train as a doctor, serve in the army, father a daughter old enough to marry in 1850, move to private practice in Niagara, and die at the age of 35! (Small World Department: Goodhue also happens to be a collateral name in the Montreal family of “my” Dr. William Fraser.)

In another scenario, two Francis Porters were born in Scotland between 1770 and 1800: a) son of John Porter and Isobel Davidson baptized 24 March 1794 in Angus, and b) son of Francis Porter, mother not named, baptized 21 September 1798 in Aberdeenshire.[7] Altogether, Francis Porter still seems like an off-target long shot. His descendants will no doubt chase the Maxwells and think of searching British army records!

England Come-Lately
Lest you think I might not have noticed, why were the following people buried in, of all places, Thorold Township? That’s where George the Carpenter’s widow ended up, as the suspected wife of Luke Carroll. A father-son string of red herrings in Lakeview Cemetery headstones:
George W. Porter died 31 Jan 1911 age 76; born 1 Feb 1835 in England
George Porter 16 July 1868 – 5 Aug 1943 [8]
(There’s more: wives and children). But there is no Person of Interest Part. Same names do not a connection make.

Some might say instead of problem-solving, I degenerated to tilting at windmills. I might say that myself. All I’ve done is expand the possibilities of family origins and connections to a marginal extent. Even in a superficial process, some of those possibilities can be eliminated. The lazy man’s way is mere name collection.

George Porter will likely make one final appearance.
 
[1] History of Macomb County, Michigan (Chicago, IL: M.A. Leeson & Co., 1882), 89-90.[2] William Canniff, The Medical Profession in Upper Canada, 1783-1850 ... (Toronto, ON: W. Briggs, 1894), 558.[3] Janet Carnochan, History of Niagara (1914, reprint Belleville, ON: Mika Publishing, 1973), 235. [4] Loc. cit.; citing The Niagara Chronicle “of 1840.”[5] Thomas B. Wilson, Ontario Marriage Notices (Lambertville, NJ: Hunterdon House Publishing, 1982), 214; citing The Church (Toronto), 31 October 1850.
 ➠➠ Many of the above books can be viewed on Google Books or Internet Archives. [6] “Drouin Collection,” Ancestry.ca, digital image (http://www.ancestry.ca : accessed 20 March 2011).[7] “Scotland Births and Baptisms, 1564-1950,” FamilySearch, database (http://www.familysearch.org : accessed 20 March 2011).[8] Lakeview Cemetery, Thorold Township (Niagara Peninsula Branch, Ontario Genealogical Society, 1985); Archives of Ontario microfilm MS 451 reel 50.

Wordless Wednesday

     It must be spring. Historic Distillery District, Toronto. Photograph BDM, 2010.

Frasers Part 12 (Inverness)

The Inverness Frasers are becoming my most challenging and interesting of brick walls. The blog serves as a testing ground before daring to assemble a family history. It may well be a fool’s exercise due to the absence of so many records.

The third of my three research objectives for John Fraser, my Scottish-Inverness-shire ancestor was:
➣ Hopefully, find the baptism of a John Fraser using parameters around his age at the second marriage and various census returns, i.e. searches 1768-1780 for a father called Alexander or James.

Since finding John’s marriage to first wife Ann Fraser was a total bust, and determining the births of their first two sons in Scotland—Alexander and James—was inconclusive, why not go for broke on a luckless trifecta.

Then a funny thing happened on my way to develop this blog post. My original list of relevant baptisms was based on the IGI. Those notes I made ... how many years ago ... necessarily had to be checked against the more recently digitised ScotlandsPeople images. Comparison with search results on ScotlandsPeople did not turn up three of my four “star” candidate couples! It did yield three new couples.

Here’s an example of an IGI entry that doesn’t appear in an all-county search on ScotlandsPeople (SP):
✱ John Fraser born 7 February 1777, baptized 10 February 1777, son of Alexander Fraser & Anne McIntosh—allegedly an extraction from Petty parish, Inverness-shire (not a patron submission). It’s still there on FamilySearch.org, the old IGI being buried in the “Historical Records Collection.” Searching for John on SP for the year 1777 brings NO MATCHES.

The mother’s name in that entry had raised immediate interest because two of the sureties for the marriage bond of John’s daughter Nancy were a father and son called James McIntosh. Nancy and her intended groom crossed the Ottawa River from St. Andrews East to Prescott County in Upper Canada to complete the bond, probably at L’Orignal. The McIntosh men may have been merely friends of the couple, but it’s equally likely they were kin-related to the intended bride or groom. Our John named his second daughter Ann (Nancy); this fits with the (variable) custom of naming the second daughter after the maternal grandmother. 

“Making a case” that the 1777 entry could be my ancestor John and his parents took on a new twist. A kind soul identified only as Hamish responded to my Frasers Part 5. The two McIntosh men were his ancestors. James the son was a tailor who later became the county jailer at L’Orignal. James the elder had “recently emigrated” but alas, his place of origin in Scotland was not mentioned. Was it perhaps the same place from which my Nancy’s father John came?

More from Hamish: James McIntosh Jr’s wife Beatrice was the daughter of Hugh Fraser who emigrated from Breadalbane in 1815 to Lochiel Township, Glengarry County. Beatrice and James apparently married in Canada. Did her father Hugh Fraser and James McIntosh Sr know each other because of their Scottish origins? It's a tenuous connection to the imminent Fraser bridal couple. Still ... it has a resonance. In the meantime Hamish has vanished.

However. Nancy’s about-to-be husband was from the Breadalbane area (my Perthshire John Fraser). If my agonizing analysis had any merit, this is more likely a case of family associates of the groom. Nancy's father, Inverness John with a potential Inverness-McIntosh mother, got lost in the shuffle of possibly-Perthshire-McIntoshes. I'm reminded not only of regular traffic back and forth across the river, but also of spreading families with ties going back to Glengarry County.

Nevertheless, did the said John Fraser born 1777 in Petty ever exist?? Well yes, he did. There he is when I narrowed the search on SP to Petty parish only. But he still doesn’t appear in the all-county search. Duh?

I wonder if anyone else has experienced a similar disconnect in their search results? (Don’t be shy; tell me if I’m doing something dumb.) Scotlands People must be rosy with delight because I am going through credits like nobody’s business.

Camels: No Go, No Show

Photograph by BDM, October 2007

Saving up my camel experiences to dole out slowly, savouring one post at a time, hit a serious road block. The blockage is apparent to anyone who reads the news lately. Even if all you can bear are headlines, you will know that the Middle East is in an uproar. The wind of change is blowing through this region ... with apologies to Harold Macmillan.[1] My preferred camel countries are now pretty well off-limits for slightly adventurous over-the-hill ladies who appreciate the creature comforts of escorted tours.

Now that I have the hang of the tour business, I know I can weasel a minimum half-day camel ride by choosing the right time and place. Notwithstanding an obsessive-compulsive tour leader. Tours have a certain-shall we say-conformity. The spirit of adventure applies to reasonable defiance in the face of regimentation ... and the best companies are flexible.

To be fair, there are plenty of countries other than the Mid-East where I could access camels. Australia is over-run with the poor starving beasts. Mongolia has plenty of the shorter, two-humped (note to self: less impressive) Bactrian sort. Many tours of Morocco touch on the Sahara for a token camel pose, shades of Giza (note to self: been there, done that, moved on to intermediate level).

In a list of attractive no-escorted-tour opportunities, Timbuktu gives you the complete and unabridged Sahara but I hear the outlaws have a nasty habit of kidnapping foreigners. Libya offers (i.e. offered) a desert oasis where you can stay for days in modest comfort and ride from sunrise to sunset.

http://www.texascamelcorps.com

Would you believe Texas has at least one camel enterprise? I do my research. With respect, Texas lacks cachet in the exotic department, although I could bring my cowboy boots. On second thought, Doug actually takes people into the Sinai and has deep contacts there.

But my preference is for camel countries + Bedouin. It’s been over a year and the restlessness grows. The trip to Syria—aaahh, a full day on the majestic animal among the glorious Palmyra ruins—was cancelled for sadly understandable reasons.

Mazayina Al Dahfra 2010, http://aldhafrafestival.ae/?Lang=EN

 Meanwhile, the UAE went ahead without me at their annual Dhafra Festival. And of course they have a diplomatic argument with Canada now, making visits more complicated.

http://www.bedouincamp.net/gallery.html

At Beidha near Petra is a camp with day trips on camels but let’s be real here, it’s for young people who can sleep on the ground all night and still stand up uncrippled in the morning. On the other end of the scale are the stunningly expensive Abu Dhabi luxury versions in the Liwa desert. Sinai resorts sound grossly over-commercialized. Iraq is still rather scary.

While I wait for Syria to settle down, it’s tempting to plan a solo trip. Oman has the lure of The Empty Quarter desert. Israel has the Negev desert with the plus of a near-relative living in Jerusalem and a minus for a camel farm with extremely spartan (the aching back again) vegetarian overnight quarters. Wadi Rum in Jordan is burnt into my psyche, having visited twice and loved it. Lack of Arabic and nuances of the language, without a reliable and fluent interpreter, would be like an egg without salt.

Verdict on hold as political events unfold. One more nostalgic review up my sleeve. Then, ... what would Gertrude Bell do? Need I ask. I leave you, temporarily, with this pithy Arabic proverb:
“On the first of March, the crows begin to search.”   

[1] “Wind of Change Speech,” About.com: African History (http://africanhistory.about.com/od/eraindependence/a/wind_of_change1.htm : accessed 31 March 2011); British Prime Minister Harold Macmillan to South African Parliament, 3 February 1960.

Culloden Day 16 April 1746

Here I am again with those Highlanders. So soon after Tartan Day! There’s a difference. After the Battle of Culloden, the wearing of  tartan was forbidden for 36 years. When the parliamentary act was repealed in 1782, the Highlands of Scotland had undergone a sea change to emerge from mediaeval times.

Painting of Prince Charles Edward Stuart by Simon Hill.
The white cockade distinguished the Jacobite army.

Family researchers can’t assume an ancestor, based only on his surname, geographic location, or religion, was a Jacobite warrior. Some clan loyalties were split “for or against.” The Young Pretender, aka Bonnie Prince Charlie, inspired an ideal greater than himself but he also raised personal misgivings among his followers. The final battle at the ill-chosen, ill-fated Culloden location was fought by hungry clansmen weary for their homes.

David Morier’s iconic painting of Culloden and other contemporary works of art dispelled the illusion that each clan previously had its “own” tartan. Morier’s military paintings are in the Royal Collection (http://www.royalcollection.org.uk/egallery/). 

The horror that followed the battle was no less than an eighteenth-century attempt at genocide. Francis Stewart, son of Bailie John Stewart of Inverness, 19 or 20 years of age at the time of the battle, wrote in 1748:
"It is a fact undeniable, and known almost to everybody, that upon Friday, the 18th of April, which was the 2nd day after the battle, a party was regularly detached to put to death all the wounded men that were found in and about the field of battle. That such men were accordingly put to death is also undeniable, for it is declared by creditable people who were eye-witnesses to that most miserable and bloody scene."[1]  The Duke of Cumberland was merciless in weeks of pursuit to exterminate the losers.
  
~ Human beings in every corner of the world continue to slaughter each other ~

[1] Sons of Scotland (http://www.thesonsofscotland.co.uk/thebattleofculloden1746.htm).

The Dreaded Linguistics

I have a concern that images are not only not always loading into Blogger, but also previously posted images keep disappearing! What's up with that?!

Half of my personal heritage is Latvian which deserves equal time with the Highlanders. The great cosmic question is why this heritage saddles me with two languages incomprehensible to 98% of the world’s population. My formal schooling was sorely negligent in vocational skills. True, French is ours for the taking (“ours” = we anglophones in Canada). It’s useful if you watch the French TV channels or if you lose the English instructions for how the garage door-opener works. Doesn’t do a darn thing for my family history, though.

Admittedly, few historic Scottish records were created in Gaelic and certainly none about my ancestors. But the language renaissance is very visible when visiting the Highlands and it’s often surprising how many inhabitants are bilingual when they want to be. Learning a few words is almost a familial duty if only you could scale the pronunciation wall. It always amazes me that my great-granny Campbell (1845-1924) whom I never knew, born and bred on Cape Breton, lived and died in Gaelic. Image: BBC News.

Latvian language presents its own unique twists. Rampant, strange, diacritical marks. Exhausting to reproduce in a regular word processing program. However, the best of news: All the church registers and important lists of estate inhabitants up to about 100 years ago have been digitised, freely available, on Latvia State Archives’ wonderful Raduraksti database. Image: Family postcard, BDM collection.

Problem is ... before the First World War the majority of records in what we call Latvia were created in German by the Lutheran pastors and landowning Baltendeutsche (but the personal names are usually recognizable). Image: Van Tranche to Freibergs, Wattram estate, Kalna Koneni land registry, 23 April 1878; Latvia State Archives 1615.6.1149, p. 7.


If that’s not enough of a headache, my grandmother’s family converted to the Russian Orthodox church 170 years ago, and guess what language their records exist in?
[Russian document finally loaded after days of trying, but it doesn't show here on the blog! It's there in the html code so why is it hiding?]

It doesn’t stop there, either. That particular family originated in Estonian territory. I spare you an illustration of an Estonian record. My newfound Estonian cousin best friend forever is Swedish. She has about ten words of English. Ten words more than I have of Swedish. Communicating with each other is way better than sudoku for stimulating the brain overtime. 

Hindsight tells me it’s OK I didn’t take a crash course in Latvian. As research progressed, so did the  realization my multilingual ancestors would have sent me cross-eyed fumbling off the deep end. A spreadsheet is calling. Just gimme the essential born-married-died words. Yes, nuances and perhaps even important notes could be missed with this callous attitude. That’s why we have resource people to call upon!     

Picking up the necessary written words is akin to learning enough spoken words for foreign holiday travel—sufficient to impress yourself, if not the natives, with please, thank you, and where is the toilet. We’re not particularly going for verb tenses or gender endings, right? Fortunately, in family history application we needn’t create whole sentences in another language. Or would you argue?

TARTAN DAY April 6th

April 6th is Tartan Day in Canada and the U.S.A. See my new favourite tartan. 

Chris who blogs at Scottish GENES will freak if he ever sees this. I respect Chris very much but he is death on spurious Scots regalia and I’d like us to be on speaking terms when he lectures in Toronto in June. He has written plangently more than once about the “Scottishness” industry created in the 19th century and embraced ever since by commerce, tourism, and us in the diaspora. I happen to agree with much of what he says. A kilt manufactured just-so does not a Scotsman make. Nor is it a symbol of the historical, agricultural Lowlands. Revisionist cultural trappings do not define ancestral identity.

Nevertheless, it would be impossible to erase the ensconced images of Scottish heritage portrayed by pipe bands and regimental dress and clan associations.

One can admire a tartan without submitting to dress code rules our Highland ancestors would have laughed at. In our modern age, new tartans are being designed by disparate organizations. Some of them are very beautiful. They can be admired per se – as a salute to certain traditions, even though some may be twentieth-century traditions. The Arinagour primary school on the Isle of Coll held a competition for an island tartan design. The winner (above) was 8-year-old Maria MacIntyre, inspired by the natural colours found on Coll—sea, sky, heather. The ancient skills of weaving and design have continuing resonance in quiet places.

 

Photograph from The Laird of Port-À-Beul, http://www.lairdofportabeul.com/English%20Frameset-.htm

Tartans are very familiar to Canadians. The Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) tartan has its own tradition. It was officially registered on 15 Aug. 1942 by the Lord Lyon King of Arms of Scotland.[1] The distinctive tartan disappeared after amalgamation of Canada's Armed Forces in 1968 when a generic uniform was introduced. In fact, stocks of the fabric were destroyed. The RCAF Association managed to preserve an official sample, and the tartan was later reinstated.

Photograph from Clans and Scottish Societies of Canada (http://www.cassoc.ca/tartans.htm).

Tartans are SO familiar to Canadians that last month the Maple Leaf Tartan was approved as an official symbol of Canada.[2] Along with the maple leaf and the beaver, the tartan is now one of the official symbols of the country. You can see the colours of the maple tree reflected in the fabric.

“Tartan Day” is celebrated in Canada and the U.S.A. on April 6th as a tribute to Scots ancestry. As Chris might ask, how many of the enthusiastic celebrants know their ancestors? Meaning taking the time and trouble to determine their actual place of origin and learn about their lives. And how many Scottish descendants recall that April 6th is the anniversary of the Declaration of Arbroath?[3] Independence for Scotland has had many a battle in the 691 years since.

[1] “Air Force Tartan,” 402 Pipes and Drums Band (http://www.402pipesanddrums.com/airforcetartan.htm : accessed 24 March 2011).
[2] “Tartans,” Canadian Heritage/Patrimoine canadien (http://www.pch.gc.ca/pgm/ceem-cced/symbl/o6-eng.cfm : accessed 25 March 2011).
[3] “Did You Know?” Rampant Scotland (http://www.rampantscotland.com/know/blknow_arbroath.htm : accessed 26 March 2011).

Four Years of Scribbling

We GeneaBloggers may be considered a self-indulgent lot, but you have to give us credit for staying the course. This is the fourth anniversary for my blog. I’ve been blogging so long I wrote stuff I forgot I’d written. Awards and doo-dads to stick on my site are minimal. Comments from readers are the best award/reward.

If blogger stats are to be believed (i.e. genealegitimate?), “John Fraser: Missing in Action” is my most popular post. I guess it sounds like a war story (not!) ... what’s with these people? Anyway, I don’t believe stats. Even for math-challenged me, the daily page view numbers don’t add up with the weekly numbers (i.e. genealogistics?). [Two for you, Randy.] But thank you, whoever you are, the gang in Peru and my erstwhile lonely reader in South Korea! Celebrate the first 24 hours of spring!

In my opinion, GeneaBloggers have added a welcome and firmly established dimension to the world of family history. Genealogy blogging has its own broad spectrum. Many are prompt with breaking news and opinions or the latest initiatives. Some choose specific topic parameters. Others concentrate on problem-solving struggles with the ancestors—particularly proof summaries and arguments—and presenting them coherently. Many GeneaBloggers appear on the leading edge of technology and cyber-communications—social and special networking sites, tweeting, webinars, podcasts, live streaming from conferences, e-books, and so on—and tell us about it. New ways of educating. GeneaBloggers’ power as a group has great potential for advocacy or change in the “real world.”

Blogging encourages discussion through comments and feedback. We’ve seen lively blog commentary about the RootsTech effect. We’ve seen enthusiastic, even urgent, warnings that if we all—beginners, professionals, the dilettantes, the serious—don’t catch the honking superspeed technology train, we’ll be abandoned on a nowhere dirt road with a mouthful of dust. Nonsense. Those two things attached to our legs are feet we were born with. It’s an old saw, but we must be able to walk before we run or take a bus or drive a car. Most options for reaching a destination still involve using our feet!

The “shank’s mare” analogy is the fallback position. Technological innovations are a supplement, not a replacement for the standard essentials of good research methodology and family history compilation. 

On a tech level I may be merely chugging along on a bicycle (Self: Is this analogy holding up?) but writing about genealogy will never go out of style whether it’s magazines, journals, family histories, books, or blogging. The newish print-on-demand books and e-books publishing will always need decent writers.

We see criticism of sloppy or non-existent citations on blogs. Blogging is new enough to many practitioners that we are still experimenting—wishing—to incorporate and adapt source citations into our family history posts. It’s my belief that most of us want credibility when sending ancestral relationships and identities into public territory. If we know how to do it right, we should be demonstrating by example.

I’ve found the space appropriate for me (and my mascot). In future I may even adapt to a Model T. When the shoe fits, I will wear it. “Another belief of mine; that everyone else my age is an adult, whereas I am merely in disguise.”[1]

[1] Margaret Atwood, BrainyQuote (http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/m/margaretat386394.html : accessed 19 March 2011).

Evidence Gets Explained

Departing from my usual posts of scratching my genealogy/family history navel, I am celebrating the advent of Elizabeth Shown Mills to my town. Said town being TORONTO.

Not that—her life so often being peripatetic for speaking engagements—she is likely to see anything of my town beyond a few gazes out of hotel windows. Hotel windows are situated in the northern reaches of North York which grieves me as unrepresentative of downtown where I live. (Don’t get me wrong, the wonderful North York Central Library with its Canadiana Department is our enthusiastic and much-appreciated co-sponsor!).

That’s the life of a wildly in-demand speaker who must be booked years in advance. One hotel is much the same as another. But one audience always differs from another. This is a rare Canadian appearance for the acknowledged standard-bearer in genealogical education. The prestigious positions she has held and the honours bestowed her by major societies attest to accolades such as "the person with the greatest impact on genealogy in the post-Roots era," and “SuperGenie.”

“Advanced Genealogical Skills: A Seminar with Elizabeth Shown Mills.” Saturday April 2nd is the day and the auditorium of the North York Central Library (NYCL) on Yonge Street, Toronto, is the place 9 am to 5 pm. Details and registration at http://ocapg.org/shown_mills.html.

My group, the Ontario Chapter Association of Professional Genealogists (OCAPG), and the Canadiana Department of NYCL are co-sponsoring this event. The Canadiana Department is the home for published/manuscript collections of the Ontario Genealogical Society, Société franco-ontarienne d’histoire et de généalogie, The Jewish Genealogical Society of Canada (Toronto), and much more.

NYCL is minutes off Highway 401 in Toronto and there’s a Novotel mere steps away within the North York Centre where the Library is located.

Elizabeth will be speaking on problem-solving techniques, the harder-to-identify females in our lines, and the process of analysis and planning for the toughest research cases. Of course, there will also be a session devoted to demystifying source citations! 

Ms Mills’ lecture handouts alone are worth the price of admission. They are not available to non-attendants. Trust me. The whole package of presentations is a bargain. It has been a few years since I was a trustee along with Elizabeth on the Board for Certification of Genealogists. Thus I disclose a personal interest in bringing her expertise to dedicated family historians in this region. And dear readers, should you show up as a result of this blog post, I will wrack my brain for a fitting prize.

Dougall Part 8: Heart of Midlothan

In my previous Dougall post, I mentioned that my perspective toward the family origins had changed. Instead of conjuring a vague Highland past for good old John (fl.1750s) and his antecedents, my horizons contracted closer to home—home being Edinburghshire, latterly known as Midlothian. And the town of Edinburgh embodied the heart of Midlothian.

It’s quite apparent that, although my Dougall family history is now in print, the flow of research and information doesn’t necessarily stop. Therefore the blog is the means to serve up sequels, or postscripts. And probably won’t stop me from some idle speculation ...

Postcard, undated, West Calder Family History Society

John Dougall’s main activity was at West Calder village, located about fifteen miles west of Edinburgh. His “activity” as we know it consists merely of three recorded baptisms in the 1750s for his children. Genealogical convention says the distance a man could walk from his home or birthplace in half a day, or sometimes a whole day, is the usual radius in which ordinary eighteenth century folk connected with employment, for marriage, and where they found or established family ties. Fifteen miles sounds reasonable to me for a healthy young man.

Why hadn’t I been thinking that—instead of fleeing from the dire aftermath of Culloden—John might simply have walked away from the religious and political turmoil of 1740s Edinburgh? Would it have been “simple” to do that? A few earlier Dougalls are recorded in the Edinburgh parish of St Cuthbert with no known connections at this time. And there to this day below the famous castle sits St Cuthbert’s—the “West Kirk” of Edinburgh—on the Lothian Road! The National Archives of Scotland has hundreds of items relating to this historic church (CH2/718) including intermittent parishioner lists and examination rolls ... just waiting for a future Dougall family researcher to explore :-)

St. Cuthbert's, Edinburgh, photograph by Jonathon Oldenbuck,  2008. http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:St_Cuthberts_Edinburgh.JPG.

Probably born in the 17-teens, John Dougall could have been witness to some violent events. Edinburgh citizens were known for public demonstrations. Angry mobs sometimes took to torching and lynching. The year 1732 saw St Cuthbert’s itself a magnet for rioting; dissent over the appointment of a new minister led to police retaliation and far-reaching consequences. In 1742 the kirk beadle was a target in the “body snatcher riots.”[1] Not only that, Rev. Neil McVicar of St Cuthbert’s, a Gaelic-speaking Highlander, supported the government cause during the Jacobite Rebellions. McNeil was vocal in his opposition when Prince Charles Edward Stuart and his army occupied the city for a short while in 1745, and “... there was no public worship in the city itself during this time and many people sought refuge in the countryside.” (emphasis added)[2]

Sir Walter Scott monument, photograph CDM 2010.

But what about the Heart of Midlothian? Sir Walter saw it as the hated Tolbooth prison and tax (toll) collection office, a large brooding edifice situated in the centre of the old town. It’s not clear to me whether Scott coined the phrase or adopted it from an older usage (his book is densely packed and ripe with colloquial Scots dialect). Recent archaeological evidence shows that a vestige of the old building can be dated to 1386. The Tolbooth had once been a council and parliamentary chamber, but is remembered in notoriety as the scene of hangings, often without benefit of trial, and other atrocities. Scott’s popular novel revolves around the riots and injustices of the 1730s. Demolished in 1817, the building’s former entrance is marked by the mosaic heart inset on the Royal Mile at St Giles Cathedral.

The whole Heart of Midlothian notion does not raise quite the same ancient tribal thrills in me as a Highland warrior does. Yet, Edinburgh possesses its own unique excitement as the post-mediaeval town of teetering tenements, outspoken populace, and occasionally nefarious mysteries. I am heartened by the wonderful job the folks at Scottish Monumental Inscriptions are doing with West Lothian and Edinburgh cemeteries. There’s at least one Dougall stone in Calton Old Cemetery, Edinburgh. To be continued, bien entendu.

St. Giles Cathedral, photograph, probably by JCH Balmain, 1885, Yerbury Collection.

 
 [1] “The Bodysnatcher Riots of 1742,” Edinburgh’s Dark Side  (http://edinburghsdarkside.blogspot.com/2008/09/bodysnatcher-riots-of-1742.html : accessed 28 January 2011).
[2] “St Cuthbert’s History,” Welcome to St Cuthbert’s Parish Church, Lothian Road, Edinburgh (http://www.st-cuthberts.net/index.htm  : accessed 28 December 2010).

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Torontoist, 12 November 2010

Don't Forget to Write

Lately I see more and more discussion about writing the family history. Positively cheering! We all love the research process. We love the building of relationships and charts. We don’t love so much the citing our sources part. From the comments I see, some of us find it even harder to put it all together into written form.

Recently, Kerry of Clue Wagon opened up a nice little discussion. The little discussion took on a life of its own right into the comments. She began with genealogical software: the choices available, then why and how we use them. Kerry decided she’d put too much reliance on and expectation of software as an end product. Her post concluded that source citations and writing the history are OUR job, not that of a software program.

What is the ultimate software product? A “genealogy report”? —an automated, mechanical (boring) so-called family history? Software is just a tool, a storage tool at that. Good for data entry, but often cumbersome for real writing. In my opinion, only a word-processing program can liberate your creativity.

I hear you, those who think they have trouble writing. Maybe the mere fact of accumulating hundreds or thousands of names in your software database is what subconsciously scares the crap out of you! Feeling comfortable with writing comes with practice, practice, practice. You don’t have to write the whole family history at once. One paragraph at a time, one ancestral biography at a time.

The comments on Clue Wagon came back full circle to software preferences. Meanwhile, I particularly liked these observations, not necessarily in chronological order:

Kerry: We spend so much time and energy on being slaves to making the software fit, and we could be spending it writing or doing research.

Kerry: I'm actually finding that I sort of like doing it in Word [ed.: substitute your favourite word-processing program] ... I thought it would be awful, but it's actually kind of freeing. Who knew?

Kerry: You want the story to flow and be compelling, and no software can do that for you. I think that's one thing genealogy blogging helps you see more clearly...the need for plain old writing.

Harold: ... some of the best genealogists in the world don't use a database at all. ... There is just no substitute for a well-written, documented story of a family.

Lynn: No database can write your family history, organize it yes, but far too often we do nothing but organize and organize and never get to the writing.

Yes, some of us spurn the software for no particular reason. Building an acceptable genealogy format from scratch is a learning experience of great self-satisfaction. We savour the challenge of consistent source citations (more practice, practice, practice)—forced to think about the source it represents, its quality as evidence, and whether the germane elements are captured. And oh, the gratification of a well-constructed sentence or paragraph!

[I know, ... weird, eh? Secret pleasures. It doesn’t mean I get it right all of the time or even some of the time. But the product is all mine.]

To me, a big component of networking is encouraging, urging, people to turn those piles of research notes and database charts into writing a unique family history.

Thanks, Kerry! I hereby declare that no payment exchanged hands to promote her blog :-)

© 2011 Brenda Dougall Merriman

DIY Publishing

Print-on-demand with online publishing is ideally suited for genealogists and family historians who anticipate a relatively small print run, i.e. limited distribution among family members. Not to forget donating some copies to appropriately relevant genealogical societies. Undoubtedly some will still prefer to work with a local printer who can provide a similar and perhaps more personalized service. I haven’t tried it so I can’t speak to the advantages of that choice. 

A number of companies are providing online publishing for all manner of personal and “vanity” books, from wedding memories and travel journals to first novels or blog collections. You pay for the initial printing and receive the minimal amount of author’s print copies (or more). Thereafter, interested parties can order directly from the company for a reasonable price. We are talking print copies, not a download-able digital book.  

Some of the more familiar companies are Lulu, Blurb, and NoWaste (look ‘em up). They have discovered the genealogy market. The only reason I am even posting this blog is because I am hopelessly low-tech and wanted the easiest way to get my assembled histories into print with the least amount of aggravation, anxiety, and desperation. After all, it took a lot of discipline to say to self: Stop careening around in endless research and do something tangible with it NOW!

I repeat, hopelessly low-tech, and this is not to be construed as a comparison of various offerings or quality. This is merely my kindergarten experience for enlightening any friends who happen to be equally low-tech. 

So I chose UniBook. They offer a choice of finished sizes and the cost and pricing are reasonable. Most of all, the process was the easiest to follow. It’s a good idea to print out the instructions and read them about 34 times. Then you won’t make some of the mistakes I did. Like totally omitting the cover photograph for book number one (read the step by step instructions carefully). Weep. Maybe I can re-do it before the relatives twig.

Basically you prepare your manuscript as camera-ready copy in your choice of popular size. All text and headings should be done in a somewhat standard font (they tell you what works; read the instructions again) because some fancy ones will turn out awful-looking. The manuscript includes all the photographs you want to insert. Unlike me, you will probably not spend weeks agonizing over sizing, re-sizing, and placing them. You will know how to fix the blank gaps they sometimes cause on a page with copious footnotes (and I certainly hope you are footnoting or endnoting to make it all worthwhile). Consider thoughtfully how you want the first page to look, and where your page numbering will begin.

Then you PDF the whole works (luckily, I know how to do that). You can choose hard cover or from a variety of soft cover bindings. The fun part is designing your cover and creating a word-restricted summarized blurb and bio for the back cover, plus meta tags so someone out there somewhere, a perfect stranger, will stumble on your book on the Web and might even buy it.

I am very pleased with the appearance, the paper quality, the binding, and the photo reproduction. Can’t think of any drawbacks except not reading the instructions often enough—they are quite visual and straightforward. At this point, my two family histories represent a fair amount of satisfying work. The next will be even more satisfying because surely I won’t miss anything in the instructions (don’t call me Shirley). 
    
Family response is underwhelming but not unexpected. Then again, maybe I should think beyond Facebook as a way to tell the world. Being the PR person for your own book is a big responsibility, possibly another new learning curve. Wonder if anyone will notice the misplaced research blooper in the Dougall book. That reminds me, getting someone to review your manuscript is a seriously excellent move.

UniBook is not paying me in any way to flog their services. Apparently they are saner and more professional than that.