January Ancestors (2)

For the sake of brief entries, I am not footnoting the facts in this ongoing memorial. Sources have been noted either in other blog posts or in my family history books.

13 Jan 1869: John McFadyen married Isabella Campbell, in Provincetown, Massachusetts. Both were natives of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia: John was from River Denys, Inverness County, and Isabella was from Points West Bay in Richmond County. Provincetown was a magnet for many “Capers” who pursued a maritime livelihood. John was known at home as John Hector because he had a younger brother John, called John Jr., or John Lauchlin. According to the Barnstable Patriot in March of that year, four McFadyens (first names not given) were captains in the season's cod fishing fleet for Provincetown. The couple had two children born there, 1869 and 1871, and relocated to a Manitoba homestead by 1874. There, the births of nine more children followed. John and Isabella were two of my great-grandparents.

 

Loyalists: Eligibility - Grab the Certificate and Hug It

This is the 5th post in an occasional series about United Empire Loyalists. Part One of eligibility (the ancestor’s) was discussed last month. Part Two is about who qualifies for regular membership in the United Empire Loyalists’ Association of Canada (UELAC). The two parts are intertwined.

They are so intertwined—the second dependent on the first—that this scribe became uncharacteristically verbose. This post right now will continue in the near future. Smaller bites may be more palatable. 

We are more than 200 years down the road from Loyalist days of hardship in new territories of unbroken land. A century after that time, the beginnings of the UELAC were founded. It was 1914 when cohesion took place “to unite together irrespective of creed or political party the descendants of those families who during the American War 1775 to 1783 sacrificed their homes in retaining their loyalty to the British Crown, and to perpetuate their spirit of loyalty to the Empire.[1] You can see the modern mission statement at http://www.uelac.org/about.php.

The UELAC is a hereditary society. It is “an organization dedicated to enriching the lives of Canadians through knowledge of the past, in particular the history of the United Empire Loyalists and their contribution to the development of Canada.”[2] The organization does provide for affiliate and associate members which is not being discussed here.[3] Regular membership requires proving your ancestor was considered a Loyalist in his day, proving your descent from him or her, and swearing an oath of allegiance to the Crown. Presenting credible evidence and proof on your application will result in a certificate attesting to your Loyalist ancestry.

The words “hereditary” and “descent” and “prove” involve genealogy ... naturally! The research tasks of proving are essentially do-it-yourself, unless you hire a professional genealogist. A UELAC branch genealogist—because you must apply through one of its branches—will give you some guidance with your application. The application itself spells out how to proceed.

Today’s world of genealogy represents accelerated research tools, accumulated wisdom, and the evolution of applicable standards. It was not the same back in the 1880s when commemorative societies were being formed, or even in 1914. Grandchildren of Loyalists were still alive, many well into the twentieth century, as was family memory. Applicants for membership merely submitted the relevant ancestor’s name (perhaps the ghost of “everyone knew” was a factor). Not until 1970 did the UELAC establish standard proof requirements and application forms.

The UELAC was not alone in struggling with this situation. Other North American hereditary societies were undergoing the same self-reflective review as time marched on and newer generations had more descendant links to prove. The societies were slow to adapt to research standards promulgated in the wider genealogical community; after all, they didn’t want to discourage new members and offend the old ones.

Even still, the society requirements and submitted evidence may be interpreted differently from branch to branch, and/or possibly rely too much on derivative and hearsay sources. The position of Dominion Genealogist oversees all branch-approved applications for final approval. The bylaws provide for an Investigating Committee, to assist him or her. In practice, it makes sense for discretionary consultation with the relatively few problematic applications that come in—the ones with a weak generational link, or an unconvincing “argument” for identity or relationship from indirect references.

It may take more time again before the UELAC trades in the shop-worn Preponderance of Evidence principle. Aka “balance of probabilities,” it is a borrowed legal term from the fledgling days of raising the critical bar in genealogical and family history studies. It is not a sufficient measure for a proof argument collating indirect evidence. Graduating to the Genealogical Proof Standard would be a progressive step for the society.[4]

The last round of Eligibility continues next time.

[1] “The Founding of the UELAC,” United Empire Loyalists’ Association of Canada, (http://www.uelac.org/UELAC-history/Founding-UELAC.php).
[2] “About the UELAC,” United Empire Loyalists’ Association of Canada, (www.uelac.org/about.php).
[3] Associate members have an abiding interest in the Loyalist period without having a Loyalist ancestor (or are in the process of researching one). Affiliate members have met the proof requirements but cannot swear allegiance to the Queen of Canada (i.e. citizens of another country).
[4] Board for Certification of Genealogists, The BCG Genealogical Standards Manual (Orem, Utah: Ancestry, Inc., 2000), 1-2. See also Merriman, Genealogical Standards of Evidence: A Guide for Family Historians (Toronto: Dundurn Press and The Ontario Genealogical Society, 2010), 38-41.

© Brenda Dougall Merriman, 2012

January Ancestors (1)

For the sake of brief entries, I am not footnoting the facts in this ongoing memorial. Sources have been noted either in other blog posts or in my family history books.

2 January 1962: Marija Jurikas Freiberg died in Port Arthur, Ontario. She was two months short of her 90^th birthday when she died, and had suffered from a form of dementia in her last years. Marija had lived at Krumini farm, Limbazi parish, Latvia; St. Petersburg, Russia; New York City; and finally settled to domestic life in Canada. She was my maternal grandmother; more information was written about her here.

3 January [Julian calendar]1843: Ansis Freibergs of Koneni farm, Kastrane, Latvia, married Trute Grunfeld at Malpils Lutheran Church. They were my great-great-grandparents.

11 January [Julian calendar] 1798: Jurri Jurikas of Allika farm, Tori parish, Estonia, died. He had married Marri, daughter of Peet, probably of a farm known as Tohivere nor Tohera or Tehver. Research in this family grouping is incomplete (and difficult without surnames in usage---to be another story) but for the one firm date. Jurri and Marri were my 4^th great-grandparents.

The Annual Letter

Right now my only New Year’s resolution is getting past the struggle with wording my Annual Letter. It used to be my Christmas letter until the kids left home. Now it comes out in January. Actually, last time it appeared was March ... pause ... two years ago. I have become a Biennial Letter writer. If it gets later and later, those distant friends and family will think I’m dead. The kind of dead for which reports have been greatly exaggerated (M. Twain, I believe) but that really happened to my doctor twenty years ago. Back when doctors impersonated human beings and had time to chat with you. I cried over the loss for at least an hour. Luckily his office knew it was a mistake because he was right there interrogating patients and tickling babies. Seems the deceased was a person of the same name. Fancy that. Genealogy rears its head everywhere.

Back to the struggle. If I want to say the family is thriving despite individual problems, should I just say they are thriving? That’s so 1980s—like everyone had a functional family. Or should I lightly mention they are either poor, jobless, or depressed, whichever applies where? But that’s sort of a teaser, right? Must be another way. For all I know, the recipients could be poor, jobless, and/or depressed too. You don’t want to rub it in. Empathy at all times.

Does Mexican friend want to hear what a great city I live in? Not when he’s battling annual floods and fighting for turtle rights. Does cousin Agnes want to hear she’ll have to buy the family history? Likely not. Does my high school friend want to hear I went to Scotland without her? What about Uncle Sydney when he hears I was in his town last year and didn’t visit him? And worst of all, who wants to hear about more camels. 

So why am I doing this and what will I “talk” about? Should I repeat stuff from my blog that they never read? You don’t have to remind me that not everyone gets thrills and chills from genealogical problem-solving.  

But wait. Speaking of thrills and chills. How about medical reports. Everyone likes a little of that. For advanced hypochondriacs who enjoy a good colonoscopy, maybe I could prepare a separate handout, you know: a blow-by-blow account of various symptoms, diagnoses, and operations; contrast and compare emergencies rooms; number up the friends in rehab centres (physical and mental). Mere cataracts and bunions don’t count. Slipping on the sidewalk doesn’t count unless it led to a hip replacement. Coronary stents and pacemakers should have a good audience. Funerals. Bedbugs. Now I’m thinking I could really go to town here.

I should probably omit events such as the outdoor café in Edinburgh where the stupid pigeon crapped on my stupid sandwich plate when I went indoors for the stupid salt and pepper. Or the time all the fake barnboard had to be peeled off my door. Or anything to do with Karaoke. Or the persistent man to whom I never properly explained the War of 1812. Or Amethyst cocktails and driving in your nightgown. Things like that.
  
It’s a delicate thing, the Annual Letter.

But a lot of fun. Oh what the hell. Throw tact and diplomacy to the winds! Happy New Year!

© 2011 Brenda Dougall Merriman

December

Peter Dougall family home, Renfrew, Ontario. Photograph BDM family collection.

Like many GeneaBloggers, I have decided to pay tribute to the ancestors by remembering them more often in my blog. It will be monthly, minimally, in my case. Starting in January. Perhaps not always regularly (the old CYA principle) in case I get caught up in something else displacing all other rational thought. It happens. A writer must go with any sudden new creative current and paddle like mad or perish.

Renfrew. A place I have never seen. My great-grandparents--Peter and Catherine “Kate” Dougall--spent the majority of their lives there. I've pored over Renfrew newspapers. I did the usual census returns, vital stats registrations, Presbyterian church records, cemeteries, wills/estate files, local correspondence, and family papers and reminiscences. I've contributed to a local history of the place. I'm lucky enough to have old photographs showing Peter and Kate at different stages of their lives.

I regret I still don't really know them. Peter and Kate raised nine children during the late nineteenth century when Peter adapted his blacksmithing trade to carriage-building. Some of the sons took it up and eventually adapted the trade to motor vehicles. It seems the couple had their share of progeny who either prospered, sadly stumbled, or quietly carried on.

As a preview for my proposed monthly discipline, Kate (Fraser) Dougall was born and died in December. My favourite photo of her was previously shown here.

© 2011 Brenda Dougall Merriman

Loyalists: Eligibility - Taken for Granted?

This is the fourth in an occasional series about United Empire Loyalists.

So I don’t lose sight of what I’m doing, a DISCLAIMER: I am an independent genealogist and family historian; my opinions or practice may not always coincide or agree with those of the United Empire Loyalists’ Association of Canada (UELAC)—their Genealogists’ Handbook, or the Branch Genealogists, or the Dominion Genealogist. While I’ve studied documents and stories of the Loyalist period for many years, I greatly respect those who are more knowledgeable than I. Do we all sometimes find ourselves in comfortable ruts searching for evidence of Loyalist ancestors? Yes.  

In posting here, and in my book, I am primarily reaching to the newly-curious about their Loyalist heritage. But also to those descendants who were fortunate enough to find solid ancestral evidence without too much time and trouble. Maybe I can prompt a deeper attitude to historical (and research) understanding. Too often I see the focus only on a target ancestor—tunnel vision leading to the desirable certificate—ignoring the potential for a richer family history. Stepping back from a tree to view the forest is needed for fresh perspectives.

    Genealogists both within and without the society who assist applicants and/or offer services to the public are behoved to understand the contemporary circumstances AND the society’s requirements for (full) membership.

... a statement I made in my first post about Loyalists.
There are two not-always coinciding elements here, and both involve eligibility, i.e. qualifications.
One: Contemporary circumstances: Who “qualified” as a Loyalist?
Two: Society requirements: Who qualifies as a full member of UELAC?

Part One again concerns the area that became Upper Canada; there, the administration notably applied Lord Dorchester’s privilege of recognizing Loyalists. His original resolution was straightforward. Those who deserved “distinguished benefits and privileges” had:
● “adhered to the Unity of the Empire, and
● joined the Royal Standard in America before the Treaty of Separation in the year 1783.”

A perspicacious reader will likely ask what does adhere to the Unity of the Empire mean? The phrase has had its debatable moments, but for now we will say it meant at the time—the 1780s—someone who left the rebel colonies to be within the British King’s domain. Joining the Royal Standard, i.e. “signing up” for military service, further delineated the qualification.

How was privilege administered? In practical terms, it meant the Loyalist’s land grant was free of all fees when title was transferred from the Crown. But that was the final step in a developing system of regulations. Initially, land allocation gave only temporary “custody” of a piece of land to a nominee—a specific location on a ticket or certificate. Concomitant obligations included the standard clearing, cultivating, and building.

The first district land boards1789-1794 were established to ease the work of the overloaded Executive Council. Board members handled petitions and assignments of land; in most cases, local Loyalists would be personally known to them. By 1796 Loyalists were required to confirm their allegiance on district rolls, turning in their former tickets or certificates for the official crown patent (title deed). Some did not live long enough; others neglected to complete the process for various reasons (both situations caused complications in confirming Loyalist status/eligibility among officialdom and for later researchers).

It is well worth noting that Loyalists knew who they were although it’s unlikely they ever pinned that label on themselves. So many of their neighbours and kinsmen shared the same upheaval of starting life again in new territory that it was taken for granted “everyone knew” their background—their migration, their losses, their loyalty. They had land to work; a piece of paper signified their right to occupy it; “everyone knew” it was theirs. Who had time for a trip to the district town and more government paperwork when subsistence was their daily concern? For subsequent generations, in the absence of overt documentation about the target ancestor, trickle-down family memory played an insistent role.

The land-granting system and Loyalist privilege/eligibility are inseparable. I’ve not even mentioned the confusion that arose in resolving how much acreage to grant, the problems sometimes caused by the status of military claimants, or discrepancies in the lists that were underway in different offices. For sure, it’s eighteenth-century immersion for dedicated family historians. To be continued? More space and energy are needed to address Number Two!

It should be clear thus far in my rambling that the well-known petitions for land grants, as genealogical sources, are not necessarily available for each individual Loyalist. True, petitions and other documents exist after the fact when titles and claims had to be sorted out. But ultimately, the most benign effect of privilege was the 200-acre grants to the sons and daughters. In fact, it is their records—petitions—that speak most often to the Loyalist status of their fathers.

© Brenda Dougall Merriman, 2011  

SWHIHR

It's a mouthful just to say the initials. It's the Society of West Highland & Island Historical Research. Herewith an example of how we try to expand our genealogical minds.

Serious family historians look for detailed context about their ancestors' lives---geographic, cultural, social, political, economic, religious, legal, and so on. What did the family breadwinner's occupation mean to them in terms of location, income level, housing? What influences would they have felt from cultural pressures?

Searching for such information takes us well beyond surname targeting and building a family “tree.” And so we seek out resources not restricted to online searching or genealogical societies, although they can assist. Somehow I doubt that academic and/or scholarly sources are frequently consulted. It takes more time and trouble to find them.

That brings me to my example ... one of the “extras” that enrich my understanding, and thus my family history. The non-profit SWHIHR is fairly locale-specific with a journal three times per year: West Highland Notes & Queries. Contributors delve into all historical time periods of Scotland's western Highlands and islands (Argyllshire, Inverness-shire, the Inner and Outer Hebrides, and more). Scholarly discussion, dialogue, and nuance go back and forth among contributors who are mainly historians (with an occasional genealogist), many of them with a lifetime of expertise in esoteric, private manuscript collections that you and I could scarcely hope to access. 

There is a point at which, in every Highland family history, the ancestral line blurs into the localized clan mass. And clan history is instructive through its leading figures---and the lesser-known---because their activities include the shades of our forebears. Besides, it feels good to engage one's intellect in a slightly alternative perspective.

West Highland Notes & Queries is not a high-tech production. It is only available in paper form, and the small print requires a large magnifier. Enquiries about current rates can be directed to the secretary at nmbcoll@aol.com. I can't let it go without saying the editor is Nicholas Maclean-Bristol, based on the Isle of Coll, author of the brilliant From Clan to Regiment: Six Hundred Years in the Hebrides, 1400-2000 ... and numerous smaller but important works.

May you all find your own gems to add depth to your family research!

Loyalists: A Mark of Honour

The biggest migration in North American history took place in 1783-1784 at the end of the War usually called the American Revolution by Canadians and the War of Independence by Americans. Historians will confound you with the variation in numbers of Loyalists (really, who could count them?!) who left the new republic. Some estimates have been up to 50,000. Let’s say dozens of thousands. Reimbursement by the states for confiscated properties was never considered.

The British government was financially constrained due to the war effort and could offer only limited compensation to the Loyalists who lost their homes, their assets, and too often the family breadwinner. Giving them land in the wilderness areas (“waste lands of the crown”) was the most adequate and useful resource at their disposal—along with token subsistence items. Useful, because it was also the answer to populating its colonial borders for future defence against the reconstituted, potentially aggressive neighbour.

In Quebec, where the French seigniorial land system continued, placement had to be found for 25,000? 35,000? Loyalist refugees camped near border forts—and they wanted freehold land tenure. Westward along the Great Lakes system was an obvious choice (although not the only one). Settlements were already in evidence at Detroit, Niagara, and Cataraqui (Kingston). The refugees were given some rations and tickets for land allotment. Some disbanded soldiers from the regular army units joined them. Before long, their numbers were swelling with “ordinary” arrivals, drawn by the sweet lure of free land.

A comprehensive land granting system for all comers did not miraculously spring into being, fully formed. It took time for rules, regulations, and procedure to develop. By 1789 the overburdened land committee of the Executive Council of Quebec had seen to establishing district land boards in what would become Upper Canada; they were to function as local gateways for all newcomers looking to acquire land.

Baron Dorchester, Commander-in-Chief of British North America and the King’s representative, in 1789 proposed privilege for the Loyalists, to distinguish them from other incomers to his territory. “ ... it was his wish to put a Mark of Honour upon the families who had adhered to the Unity of the Empire, and joined the Royal Standard in America before the Treaty of Separation in 1783.”[1]

The man who made that declaration was none other than Sir Guy Carleton, newly elevated to the peerage, among former duties the administrator of Loyalist New York City and manager of its heroic evacuation. The Executive Council agreed, and a resolution was ordered:

“That the several Land Boards take Course for preserving a Registry of the Names of all Persons falling under the description aforementioned to the End that their Posterity may be discriminated from future settlers, in the Parish Registers and Rolls of the Militia of their respective Districts, and other Public Remembrances of the Province, as proper Objects, by their persevering in the Fidelity and Conduct so honourable to their ancestors, for distinguished benefits and privileges.”[2]

 Distinguish and discriminate. Dorchester was furthermore quite specific about privilege on the forms to be printed for the militia rolls:

“N.B. Those Loyalists who have adhered to the unity of the empire, and joined the Royal Standard (in America) before the Treaty of Separation in the year 1783, and all their children and their descendants by either sex, are to be distinguished by the following Capitals affixed to their names: U.E., alluding to their great principle, the Unity of the Empire.”[3]

Technically, Dorchester’s territory included all the northern colonies but Upper Canada more than others would embrace the U.E. appellation as an expedient element in its land granting system. In the genealogical sense, the system was not perfect at recording those deserving of privilege. Official process was fraught at times with ambiguities and antinomy, as we shall see.

It would be a few more years before attempts to compile “a Registry” were evident. Dorchester left the country permanently in 1796 but his resolution was honoured.

In Upper Canada, Loyalists were allotted their land free of all surveying and administrative fees. Initially, refugee families were awarded a predetermined amount of land; service in a Loyalist (militia) corps raised the amount, depending on rank. Plus: children of Loyalists, both male and female, would receive 200 acres of crown land on coming of age.

Loyalist privilege in Upper Canada was so attractive that some land-hungry latecomers and ordinary settlers would claim the qualifications (and more on that to come). All the more reason for government officials to distinguish the type of grant they were allowing.

Discrimination is not necessarily a bad word.

© Brenda Dougall Merriman, 2011

Please note: In my text I am not quoting the entire passages of these citations; additional bits will get attention in future posts.
[1] Library and Archives Canada (LAC), RG1, E1, State Minute Book, Vol. 18, p. 110, 9 November 1789; LAC microfilm C-100. 
[2] Ibid.
[3] British Colonial Office 42, Vol. 67, pp. 367-373, Dispatch no. 25, 27 May 1790; LAC microfilm B-47.

Cemeteries Part 13: El Alamein

It’s been a while, over a year since I blogged about a cemetery. Opportunity comes when and if. And this year I missed Remembrance Day at home. Instead, I had the privilege of visiting Alamein War Cemetery, part of which is one of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission sites.  

Photograph BDM, November 2011

The battle of El Alamein in Egypt—across the Western Desert region of Egypt, Libya, and Tunisia—was a victory for the Allied Forces in the Mediterranean theatre of the Second World War. Most visible are the British, German, and Italian memorials to honour the fallen servicemen. I was in a group of visitors highly conscious of our proximity to Remembrance Day, wearing our poppies. We brought a wreath to place at the British war cemetery.

Photograph BDM, November 2011

Some in our group were searching for specific grave sites. Unless they had known to use the online CWGC search engine in advance, it was difficult to pinpoint precisely an Allied individual’s gravesite. Well-worn “index” books are available on site, but visitors crowd them, and the various military divisions can be confusing. 

Photograph BDM, November 2011

“El Alamein War Cemetery contains the graves of men who died at all stages of the Western Desert campaigns, brought in from a wide area, but especially those who died in the Battle of El Alamein at the end of October 1942 and in the period immediately before that. The cemetery now contains 7,239 Commonwealth burials of the Second World War, of which 814 are unidentified.”[1]

The magnitude of the Commonwealth cemetery is overwhelming, especially when one reads row after row of the young men who died. What a waste. Many had brief verses or words inscribed by surviving family. Saddest of all are the unidentified graves, “A soldier of the 1939-1845 War, known only to God.” Visitors, even those with no family associations, were overcome with quiet tears as they walked.

Without a relative to seek, I chanced upon a few Canadian stones.

Photograph BDM, November 2011

R 55367, Sergeant William Patterson Begley, pilot, Royal Canadian Air Force, [died] 25 July 1942, age 20, “He rode the skies in service of King and Country and rests in peace with God.”

The CWGC search gives more details: the son of Thomas Allan Begley and Mabelle Rose Begley of Quebec City, Alamein War Cemetery location XVII 18.F.1. [2]
             

Photograph BDM, November 2011

                   Per Ardua ad Astra 




[1] “Alamein Memorial,” Commonwealth War Graves Commission (http://www.cwgc.org/search/cemetery_details.aspx?cemetery=131900&mode=1).
[2] “Debt of Honour Register,” Commonwealth War Graves Commission  (http://www.cwgc.org/search/SearchResults.aspx?surname=Begley&initials=&war=2&yearfrom=1941&yearto=1942&force=Air&nationality=2&send.x=35&send.y=11).

Loyalists: "O Give Me Land, Lotsa Land ..."

Recently I was appalled to see a statement that a Loyalist had to prove British birth for entitlement to free land in Canada.
... a sentence of mine made last time about an online website. I hasten to add the correction has been acknowledged. What I did not address was two additional elements of that statement: “free land” and “in Canada.”

Getting a handle on geography and political administration is always a first challenge for family historians who encounter unfamiliar territory. A bit nitpicky perhaps, but to say in the above context, free land in Canada, ignores contemporary reality. One might say “Canada” did not exist when Loyalists were arriving in the 1780s. Britain had several colonies north of the newly minted American republic.

Canada was not a country, a political entity per se as we now know it, until 1867. So one might have referred to free land in Quebec, or Nova Scotia, or St. John’s Island, or merely used the term British North American colonies.

After the American Revolution, free land was widely available for a long time in most British North American colonies. Admittedly, I am most familiar with developments in one specific colony: Upper Canada. The new colony, or province (“up” the St Lawrence River and Great Lakes system from its French origins) was created in 1791 from the vast post-Conquest Quebec colony . Upper Canada was re-named Canada West in 1840/41 and again, the province of Ontario in 1867. Similar name changes applied at the same time to Lower Canada > Canada East > province of Quebec.

You can find references to “western Quebec” before 1791 which refer to the wilderness area (“waste lands of the Crown”) west of the Ottawa River. Gratuitous aside: That river was once called the “Grand”—a name apparently applied at one time or another to all impressive rivers by officials singularly bereft of imagination.

Free land was dispensed about as fast as surveyors could work. You did not have to be a Loyalist to obtain a free grant of land in Upper Canada. Every petitioner who presented himself as respectable and willing to make a home was eligible. In fact, with the advent of Governor John Graves Simcoe in 1792, Upper Canada welcomed, and indeed sought, Americans to come—populating the wilderness was a priority. The dispensing of free land continued until 1827.

Now, there’s a little twist to this free land policy. Someone had to pay the surveyors for their work, and the officials for processing the applications, and all the other paperwork. So free land actually came with administrative fees, to be paid before title was finalized. Loyalists were given a “break” in this regard. In the next post on this subject I will discuss Loyalist privilege. 

© Brenda Dougall Merriman, 2011
author of United Empire Loyalists: A Guide to Tracing Loyalist Ancestors in Upper Canada (see www.globalgenealogy.com).

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Photograph BDM October 2011

Eye-catching neon bicycles appeared throughout downtown Toronto this summer, fastened to various fixtures. It seems every city has its cache of broken and abandoned bikes. Spontaneous street art became the city-approved “The Good Bike Project” ... not without a few bureaucratic tussles. It's a mystery why the occasional vandal damages something that brings a smile to most people.

Loyalists: Call the Cops

I have a beef, soon to become clear. As this post developed, I thought how much can I condense here and be lucid without tying myself in knots? Thankfully for all of us, I found my way to posing my concern du jour without writing another book on the topic.[1]

The word Loyalist, in Canada’s historical context, refers to United Empire Loyalists. Is there any other such group about which the general public is more confused, if not outright apathetic? Not only that, some of the membership, or would-be membership, in the United Empire Loyalists’ Association of Canada (UELAC) are also guilty of misperceptions. The UELAC does its share of educational outreach but clearly there’s room for more.   

United Empire Loyalists were the founders of the provinces of Upper Canada (Ontario) and New Brunswick. Beyond that, their courage and diligence in great adversity were the strong fibre of a renewed British North America. Remember? ... They were the “losers” in the American Revolution (1776-1783), the defeated American colonists, the “migrants” some would call them, the evacuees, who started their lives again from scratch and succeeded.

Enough waving the flag.

So what’s my beef? Well, the UELAC is a hereditary society and so it involves genealogy. Just like the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) and the Mayflower Society, if those names are more familiar to you. Genealogists both within and without the society who assist applicants and/or offer services to the public are behoved to understand the contemporary circumstances AND the society’s requirements for (full) membership.
  
Recently I was appalled to see a statement that a Loyalist had to prove British birth for entitlement to free land in Canada. What is wrong with that egregious statement?

It’s long been known to historians and family historians and others who care (i.e. who read on the topic) that Loyalists came from very diversified backgrounds. All of them had spent time in an American colony before 1776. Some were born in Great Britain. Some were born in Ireland (not deemed as "British"). Many were born in America: generations-old families of New Englanders and colonies further south, descendants of Palatine origin, and old Dutch stock. Some were Québecois. Some were Iroquois Confederacy Indians and even some were slaves of African descent. British birth? Dickswigger me. 

The well-intentioned individual was not familiar with very basic Loyalist research. The concern—of course—is that internet surfers with a new interest in family history will swallow such tripe. And probably pass it on to other naïfs. Credit where credit is due: the gaffe is being corrected.

This is but one example of misleading information and statements of dubious worth—an endemic genealogical hazard on the internet. Offering oneself as a family history guru on many resources and countries is a risky business without earned peer recognition. I don’t like to see the efforts of professional educators being undermined but Genealogy Policeman is not a job to which I aspire ... do we need some??   

Some readers will be astute enough to notice I addressed merely one element of the offending statement.  The bits about “free land” and “in Canada” would have generated much more blogging than you want to read at one go. If this post raises questions about Loyalists among enquiring minds, I could be persuaded to add more commentary. I’m willing to share because I do know a fair amount about this particular subject and earned some recognition for it. I am also on record that I always have more to learn. 

[1] Brenda Dougall Merriman, United Empire Loyalists: Tracing Loyalist Ancestors in Upper Canada (Campbellville, ON: Global Heritage Press, 2006).
Winner of the National Genealogical Society’s 2008 Award for Excellence: Genealogical Methods and Sources.

© Brenda Dougall Merriman, 2011
 

Frasers Part 18 (Perthshire)

Little baby steps after long bleary hours of Internet searching. As per my last post, my Fraser goal was to return to the preliminary writing I'd done, revising and plugging holes as I go. But quite out of chronological order, I wanted to pursue a long delayed hunch. Plunging right into frenzied database searching brought some promising but fragile results.

Results … not for my missing-in-action John Fraser the blacksmith of St Andrews East, but maybe for two of his other kids. Per the Presbyterian church register (which gives dates of birth) John had two daughters, my great-grandmother Catherine (1833-1914) and Eliza (4 Feb 1839), two sons John (25 Jan 1835) and Duncan (10 Nov 1837). Those last three kids have also been missing in action. Quebec censuses and the Drouin Collection have not yielded anything hopeful. The hunch was—of course—that they left la belle province. Why not start with Ontario? Their sister Catherine went to Renfrew in the late 1850s.

First up was Ontario marriages on Ancestry.ca. The name Duncan is way easier to search for than Eliza/Elizabeth/Elisabeth/etc but nothing rang any bells there. One, only ONE, marriage presented itself for an Elizabeth Fraser whose parents were John and Ann. While her mother was commonly known as Nancy, it's a nickname for Ann, her baptismal name. Parents' names and the location look promising although Elizabeth's age was close, but not exact, for an 1839 year of birth. The Ancestry entry is a transcription only, not a digital image, so the original (microfilmed) register must be consulted—more details like place of marriage and religious affiliation may be forthcoming.

Elizabeth Fraser of Renfrew, born “in Canada,” age 19, daughter of John & Ann, married Alexander Gordon of Pakenham, born in Canada, age 25, son of George Gordon & Isabella Murray, on 30 October 1860 in Renfrew County;“Ontario, Canada Marriages, 1801-1928,” database, Ancestry.ca (www.ancestry.ca : accessed 17 September 2011), Gordon-Fraser marriage (1860); citing Archives of Ontario microfilm MS 248 reel 14.

Meanwhile, it was time to scour census returns. In 1861 and 1871 the Gordons lived in Pakenham, Lanark County, which is on the southern border of Renfrew County. Alexander was a merchant. From 1881 to 1901 they were in the town of Pembroke, Renfrew County; Alexander was a lumber merchant. In that period, Elizabeth's place of birth was thrice given as Quebec, once as Ontario. IF she is “mine,” she was consistently knocking two years off her age. The couple more or less seemed to follow Highland naming tradition: their first daughter was Isabella, the second Ann; the first son was George. The name John (for Elizabeth's father) does not crop up until the fourth son.

Alexander Gordon was a widower in 1901, so there was no chance to see what might have been written then as Elizabeth's date of birth. Ontario deaths on Ancestry.ca brought me:

Elizabeth Gordon, wife of Alexr Gordon, died in the town of Pembroke on 1 October 1891: age 49+ 8/12; born in Quebec, Presyterian; cause of death pulmonary consumption during two years, Dr. W.W. Dickson; “Ontario, Canada Deaths 1869-1938,” digital image, Ancestry.ca (www.ancestry.ca : accessed 17 September 2011), Elizabeth Gordon, no. 014427 (1891); Archives of Ontario, MS 935.

 Next, the Ontario Cemeteries Finding Aid and the exceptional Canadian Gravemarker Gallery. The latter with its on-site photographs is a wonderful and probably under-used resource. Yes; in Calvin United Church and First Presbyterian Church Cemetery in Pembroke, Elizabeth is buried along with her husband and three children. The gravestone does not add to her information, but thank you Murray Pletsch and all your amazing volunteers!

Another search brought forth hundreds of cemeteries where the name Fraser occurs, in their Eastern Ontario section alone—I was looking for Duncan. Maybe I found him:

"In Memory of DUNCAN FRASER Departed this life May [7?] 18[6?]1 AE. 24 YRS."

The stone is in St Fillan's Cemetery, Beckwith Township, Lanark County. The location is not far south of Pakenham. If the year is 1861 (what do you think??), his age is spot on with my Duncan. The 1861 census shows him as a farmer with a wife Ann, no children, in a household headed by an elderly McGinnis couple. I will have to look on the microfilm for a following page (not all have survived) that would clarify the household composition. Duncan is also shown as born in Scotland (ditto marks from lines above) so I can't get too hopeful. Newspapers of nearby Carleton Place or perhaps Arnprior or Renfrew might be available for potential reference to a young man's premature death. So where is his darn marriage?!

Elizabeth Fraser Gordon's alleged age at the time of her death leads appropriately to a February birth, but still a couple of years (1842) off. Pembroke newspapers are calling me for that one. Call me fanciful, but I like to think Elizabeth Gordon named her fourth daughter Kate after her sister Catherine who was always known as Kate in the family.

Baby steps on eggshells. Dare I hope this is progress? Pembroke cousins, where are you? I'm working my way through the gravemarker lists and photos, not optimistically, for their father John who could have died any time from 1838 on.

Frasers Part 17: Buckle Down

The family histories I have been working on have revealed my own particular bent. Apparently I am more interested in pushing back than plunging forward. Thus, a few of the descending branches from Scotland and Latvia peter out with no further information known. The investigation of those branches is ongoing, despite a lot of negativity from the usual sources, just at a reduced priority level.

Not to suggest that I don’t welcome the discovery of new cousins and branch twigs. Please keep the new information and connections coming! For one thing, unlike other lines in my ancestry, the Frasers leave me bereft of family photographs.

I’m more obsessed with where they trod—the ancestors who gave me and my siblings and my children some share of their DNA. I love to investigate the locations. For the most part I’ve had success with both North American and overseas origins. But the difficult Frasers continue to bedevil me. It’s a good time to stop the research, temporarily, and buckle down to writing. Putting it in writing is always the best way to find coherence, defining the problem areas.

Besides not knowing exactly when or how each emigrant arrived in Lower Canada, never mind the miseries of common-forename proliferation, some of the main research weaknesses and gaps among my Argenteuil ancestors are:

Inverness-shire John Fraser:
● his parish of origin in Inverness-shire is unknown;
● most Inverness-shire parish registers are far from comprehensive for the 17th-18th century population (cannot confirm his Scottish-born children, his first marriage, his own baptism);
● his date of death and place of burial are unknown;
● next to nothing is known about his first wife (Fraser) and second wife (McIntyre);
● children who left St. Andrews East also left no discernible tracks.  

Perthshire John Fraser:
● the blacksmith disappeared from St Andrews East between 1839 and 1842;
● three of his four children disappear from the radar after one census (when they were teenagers);
● his widow’s later life has no clues to his fate;
● his Robertson mother in Scotland is still a cipher;
● the Killin burial ground (Scotland) is in bad shape, not helping with probable earlier generations. 

Eons ago I began the Fraser family history in a folksy way, thinking it would be less confusing for uninitiated family members, because of the serial Frasers. Now, I’m revising to treat it in more acceptable genealogical form. As I go, one problem at a time can be addressed. Maybe the above lists will shrink!

There’s an incomplete feeling without more locations and dates to hang my hat on, figuratively speaking ... a bit of existential angst in my genetic code. Nevertheless, I am descended from a multitude of Frasers. I am as Fraser as they come.

Morphic Resonance

Searching for words to describe unexplained gut responses, inherent empathetic reactions, intrigues me. I've been calling it tribal memory ..racial memory .. subconscious cognition .. etc. Well hogtie me and take me to market; a biologist has a scientific term for this: morphic resonance.

Yes. His name is Rupert Sheldrake and being slightly sidelined from the mainstream he is not exactly a household name like Darwin. “Sheldrake has proposed that memory is inherent to all organically formed structures and systems.”[1]

Sheldrake says, “... memory is inherent in nature. Most of the so-called laws of nature are more like habits. My interest in evolutionary habits arose when I was engaged in research in developmental biology, and was reinforced by reading Charles Darwin, for whom the habits of organisms were of central importance. As Francis Huxley has pointed out, Darwin’s most famous book could more appropriately have been entitled The Origin of Habits.”[2]

“The fields organizing the activity of the nervous system are likewise inherited through morphic resonance, conveying a collective, instinctive memory. Each individual both draws upon and contributes to the collective memory of the species.”[3]

That last sentence rings sinister: what are we (inadvertently?) contributing to the universal life force in the family memory pool? Five hundred years from now, will my descendants have an inexplicably irresistible craving for buttered popcorn?

Much as I like his terminology, the man seques into telepathic studies explaining why your dog knows you are coming home before you get there. It's hard to say, from a decidedly unscientific stance, if the test of time will prove his theories. Maybe only his/our descendants will know. Thanks to Mark Rabideau for bringing this to our attention.[4]

This sort of post more properly belongs on my other blog, away from the immediately pressing world of ancestor research, and will be repeated there.

I still maintain that instinctive swooning to the bagpipes is morphic resonance. Cuidich!

[1] “Rupert Sheldrake,” Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rupert_Sheldrake : accessed 20 August 2011).

[2] “Morphic Resonance and Morphic Fields,” Rupert Sheldrake, Biologist and Author (http://www.sheldrake.org/Articles&Papers/papers/morphic/morphic_intro.html : accessed 20 August 2011).

[3] Ibid.

[4] Mark F. Rabideau, “Morphic Resonance and Genealogy,” APG Members Only List, 28 July 2011. Mark's website is Many Roads, http://many-roads.com.

The Big Lake they call ...

Celebration of an awesome summer. Amethyst is more than a colour.

Nanabijou from the Terry Fox Monument; photograph CDM July 2011

Photograph BDM August 2011

The GREAT BIG FAT WORLD TREE

This blog is free for the reading.

In case a disclaimer is needed in the face of recent concerns, here is … no business model, no registering, no terms of service, no hidden costs, no annoying ads, nothing to smack you in the face later on when you didn't expect it. It's enough to manage what little I do do.

Mind you, I don't offer databases (unless you count my labels) or family-tree-building. Some of those Internet sites are free but when is free really free? And what happens when what used to be free goes sideways? I've seen “free” compared to lunches, happy hour, bring your own lunch, sandwiches, gift horses, horses to water, freemium, and just plain sharing. Such issues are causing sore heads lately. That's one thing.

Another thing, I'm not exactly growing a family tree (fingernails screeching across a blackboard, that one) for The World's Answer To an All-inclusive Family Tree. TWATAFT, my shorthand. The what? … well, one enormous shared family tree for everyone who ever lived, the concept that has competing techie outfits feverishly growing things. TWATAFT is the new sharing. The faster our voluntarily submitted relationships arrive at headquarters, the sooner we have a universal kinship hug-fest. Get it? Send your trees into the maw of the behemoth.

I'm happy I'm not responsible for tons of incoming information and then figuring out how free the access will be. Free access may not necessarily entail free control of your material, i.e. updating, revising, and flagging your new cousins' mistakes. Who overrides whom? Even as user-generated resources, consensus seems the user will pay one way or another for access.

Did I mention quality control? As trees pour into the content of free sites? Ah! … the content. Some sites I've seen are more akin to a pub brawl. Product … it becomes a product, people. Then again, some will say that committee work produces a better result than a lone voice.

Brings us back to micro-managing our own research and software (and blogs) where each of us alone is responsible for being as accurate as we can. Our “mere” concerns are when our writing, or our research, turns up elsewhere. As appearing (ignorantly or stealthily) on someone else's website, tree, or blog. Like the stuff we share in good faith one-on-one with that new cousin who then grafts it onto their own public tree and sometimes into TWATAFT. Often in the wrong context. Really, I don't feel like hugging them. Never heard of copyright and/or attribution, the dickheads.

Where am sardonic I going with this? Xenophobia? O me of little faith (and admittedly, little technology comprehension). You can tell I'm not ready to dispatch my work-in-progress to acquisitions and mergers. Once your charts are merged into TWATAFT for the benefit of all mankind … along with sillier, undocumented family trees ... you may be flying blind in cyberspace. Collaboration with strangers is as collaboration with strangers does.

Till then, I say do what you do as well as you can. And then some. Genealogical education is widely available for the name-collectors if they have a wit to look for it. Lots of it free. Just like blog reading is free.

My books, on the other hand, are not free.

(Clear faith that books will survive for another generation or two :-)

George Porter Farewell

“Same name” problems fascinate me. Dedicated family historians will usually come across at least one such challenge. For this writer, opportunities just keep arising. In the June 2011 (vol. 99, no. 2) of the National Genealogical Society Quarterly, I wrote about a similar but “reverse” occurrence where one woman was known by three different names at different stages of her life.          

I’m saying good-bye to George Porter, i.e. “The Carpenter” of Niagara and York, and George Porter “The Prisoner” of the London District. For the time being ... since one never knows when new information or sources might surface. None of the sidetracks into contemporary Porters—the rifleman, the blacksmith, the surveyor, the doctor, odds and ends—contribute directly to identifying either George Porter. Or whether they could be the same man.

The Carpenter
George the Carpenter disappeared suddenly from his young family; he simply may have died and been buried in a Town of York cemetery with no surviving record. Names for the earliest burials at the “established” church of St James have been lost, unless a rare newspaper item or manuscript source exists. Since George eschewed Anglican baptisms for his children, St James does not seem a likely location—if he did indeed succumb in York and not on travels elsewhere. Other burial places did exist without records we can find, such as the fort’s earliest military grounds, and occasional family plots. Recently my astute colleague Jane has shown that Duchess Street, aka Presbyterian, cemetery existed since 1795—but interment records are unknown if they even survived somewhere.[1] The Carpenter left a wife never documented as a widow, and small children who were apparently farmed out.

The Prisoner
George Porter in jail at York in 1814 was anxious to be released from the York jail for certain events in the London District during the War of 1812. A misunderstanding, he alleged. He said he could retrieve government cattle hidden by the Indians, and wished ultimately to join the Indian Department. The scant records that exist for a decade or two after the War of 1812 have no indication of his presence. He may have headed across the border upon release. If I assume this man stayed in the province and later died here, no less than 63 George Porters are in the database of the Ontario Cemeteries Finding Aid but searches of burial places in the western counties were unrevealing for potential identification or links. A George Porter in Delaware of the London District in 1809 might be the same man, but again, no joy in connecting him to anyone!

Herewith a crazy momentary flash to Occam’s Razor. The oft-used definition is all other things being equal, the simplest explanation is preferred. Which explanation would be: despite the same name and the same (stretching it a bit) general time period, these were two different men. But are all other things equal? For the life of me, I cannot reconcile the enigma of each man claiming a similar lot of land in York Township.

A more scholarly definition of Occam gives pause: One should not increase, beyond what is necessary, the number of entities required to explain anything.[2] Two parts are considered the basis of Occam's razor:
* The Principle of Plurality - Plurality should not be posited without necessity;
* The Principle of Parsimony - It is pointless to do with more what is done with less.[3]

Should genealogy pay attention to Occam’s principle? Do we quote the glibbest interpretation? The more scholarly definition is seriously at odds with the GPS principle of a reasonably exhaustive search. Yet I went so far afield, unsuccessfully, it does seem pointless to continue accumulating negative findings. ... When can we say it’s enough?

For now, the last days of both George Porters remain clouded in mystery.
 
[1] Jane E. MacNamara, “Discovering the Duchess Street Burial Ground,” OGS Toronto Branch Projects (http://torontofamilyhistory.org/projects/ : accessed 10 March 2011).
[2] “Occam’s Razor,” Principia Cybernetica (http://pespmc1.vub.ac.be/OCCAMRAZ.html : accessed 10 August 2011)
[3] “How Occam’s Razor Works,” How Stuff Works (http://science.howstuffworks.com/innovation/scientific-experiments/occams-razor.htm : accessed 10 August 2011).


© Brenda Dougall Merriman, 2011.

Frasers Part 16: Robertson Connections

Speaking of John Fraser’s FAN Club (friends, associates, neighbours of my Inverness-shire farmer in St Andrews East, Quebec—related posts here and here—a previously unmentioned neighbour in the 1851 census raised a green flag (gentlemen, start your engines). Dear readers, it should have been the yellow flag (drivers, do not change positions) but let me explain. 

The neighbour was Dr. William Robertson (ca.1800-1871) from Perthshire, Scotland, who took his medical training in London, England.[1] After emigrating about 1834, he practised in Williamsburg, Ontario, then Lachute and Montreal, moving permanently to St. Andrews in 1847. Dr. Robertson died there 6 March 1871. Local history compiler Thomas mentions a half-brother, Colin Robertson, “who represented the people of this County [Deux-Montagnes] in Parliament.”

Brenda liked the green flag aspect for two reasons. The doctor struck a chord because my Perthshire John Fraser (the blacksmith) had Robertson connections: namely, his mother Katharine Robertson (perhaps the female baptized 29 May 1791). And he happened to have a brother William Fraser (1810-1872), a doctor who emigrated about 1834 to live in Montreal. What are chances of the two doctors from Perthshire being cousins? Secondly, a good friend of mine by the name of Robertson experienced a mystical connection when viewing the portrait of a Robertson in the Argenteuil Museum—sort of a Hank Z. Jones moment. How cool would it be if we were related by blood?

Information about Colin Robertson (1793-1842) is greatly expanded in the Dictionary of Canadian Biography.[2] He was born 1793 “in Perth,” son of weaver William Robertson and Catherine Sharp. Colin became a rather flamboyant, extravagant, and sometimes controversial figure in the North West [Fur] Company. In 1832 he suffered a stroke that left him incapacitated for several years, but by 1841 he was recovered and elected as an MLA. His legislative career was short lived; he died in February 1842 after a fall from a carriage.

The DCB entry cites for Colin’s birth: GRO (Edinburgh), Perth, reg. of births and baptisms, 27 July 1783. The first time around, I did not locate this entry in the old parish registers (OPRs) so conveniently available on ScotlandsPeople. Granted, Robertson is hardly an uncommon surname in Scotland. Even I knew that. The word weaver (Colin’s father) reminded me that Chris Paton of the popular blog Scottish Genealogy News had created a major study of Perth weavers between 1770 and 1844. His kind assistance led me in the right direction; as I’d learned before (I thought), it’s wise to consult more than one database, e.g. FamilySearch as well, in this case. Moreover, Robertson was the most common name in the burgh of Perth!   

Colin’s birth and baptismal dates are indeed recorded in the Perth OPRs, son of William Robertson and Cathrine Sharp. The parents’ marriage is also duly recorded on 9 March 1770, followed by a string of children. This is one parish where the Church of Scotland minister fortunately recorded baptisms and marriages by “non-conformist” (dissenting) ministers. The marriage and various baptisms were performed by clergy of either the Associate Congregation or the Secession Church. Paton already knew from his study that over 55% of the weavers’ group were non-Church of Scotland.
 
A son appropriately named William was born 18 August 1785, baptized 21 August 1785, to the same parents. He appears to be the last child of this couple. It’s clear this child was not a “half” brother of Colin. It’s not clear if this son became the doctor in St Andrews. The doctor’s age (51) in 1851 indicates a birth year of ca.1800, a wide discrepancy even by the sloppiest of census enumerations. Deep suspicion enters when ten years later Dr Robertson’s age miraculously reversed to 48!

Either “half-brother” was a loose term of the day, or the father married again and had another son William—a tentative matter complicated by the abundance of William Robertsons in Perth. Or could be the local historian and his sources confused the brother issue.

The Perth weaver in question, William Robertson and his wife, did not have a daughter Catharine or Katharine, therefore my potential connection disintegrates. What a shame. As a distant relative, Colin Robertson would have provided immense colour for family stories. His biographer states “... his favourite maxim was ‘When you are among wolves, howl!’ ... a striking man, six feet tall, with a long aquiline nose, a crest of undisciplined red hair, and a fondness for quoting Shakespeare and drinking Madeira.” 

So much for mystical experiences: my friend’s ancestors settled in Halton County, Ontario, many miles and years away. Here’s a throw-away line: Dr William Fraser, brother of my Perthshire John, married Quebec-born Miranda Robertson Charles. Here comes an extra Robertson headache!

[1] Cyrus Thomas, History of the Counties of Argenteuil, Quebec and Prescott, Ontario, 101.
[2] George Woodcock, “Robertson, Colin,” Dictionary of Canadian Biography Online (http://www.biographi.ca/index-e.html : accessed 2 July 2011).

© Brenda Dougall Merriman 2011

PIPERS

Apparently Hallmark (or possibly the president of the United States, or maybe Wills and Kate?) has decreed July 27th as Bagpipe Appreciation Day. How appropriate for waxing sentimental about tribal memory. It’s in the DNA. 

Family reunion
... at Finisterre Farm in rural Ontario. A perfect summer day. All the cars were parked in a fallow field. Throughout the day the outdoor throng got busier and noisier as cousins were immersed in intense discussions. The notes of the pipes were faint at first. Unexpected. People paused as music unfurled. Conversation drifted away to awed silence. A magnificent piper in full regalia strode up the driveway onto the lawn. One of my more inspired ideas.

This was no run of the mill piper. Luckily for me, he was not only a neighbour but a talented scion of the famed McCrimmons. Who ...? you ask. Hereditary pipers to the McLeod chiefs of the Isle of Skye. He played several pieces for an engaged audience and bantered back and forth with us. At the urging of wicked little urchins amongst us, he obliged by flashing the big question under his kilt. Boxer shorts. Due to this shameless display, he shall remain nameless. His tradition-minded parents would never forgive him for the underwear. 

A bareboat sail
... in the British Virgins ranks among the world’s best adventure vacations. The holidayers comprised two couples, with but one sailor holding certification papers. That fact allowed our good friend to be captain. One semi-experienced sailor and two female dogsbodies, who almost knew what a jib is, completed the crew. We took possession of the 43' boat on Virgin Gorda and loaded up with grub and refreshments from the island’s limited provisions shop. The captain signed lots of paperwork including instructions from the charter company where and when not to sail in the BVI on pain of death or bankruptcy.

Good, there’s a charcoal barbecue on the deck. There’s only one captain here and he wants barbecue. We were about to learn the Power of Captain.

Feeling his oats, the captain we thought was our friend forced us to sail to Anegada, the biggest do not go there on our instruction list. Anegada is out in the real-time Atlantic ocean, surrounded by shallow wreckedy reefs not to be navigated by dumbass tourists. As we closed in, three of us were spotting by hanging over the gunwales; we might as well have jumped in and towed the boat. By the end of the week, Captain Bligh decided to run Sir Francis Drake Channel. Naturally, he chose a day when the wind and the waves were higher than the do not sail on our list. Overpowering wind. Raging wind. Two protesting voices went unheard—never, ever, question a Captain. The superheroes commenced tacking our suicide course full tilt down (or up?) the channel with the spinnaker taut as a drum. Dogsbodies clutched each other on the back deck screaming their brains out. Bruises sprouted on body parts like black plague boils.

There were compensations. One of them was Peter Island, I think, where we anchored peacefully one evening, being more or less stable underfoot. Labour and leadership had reached a truce. Wrinkled from sensational snorkelling in the transparent waters, we awaited our barbecued steaks. On the clear air came drifting the harmonious, softly-thrilling tones of the pipes. Over there, the sole yacht anchored in the distance. A solitary piper on deck saluting the sunset. Bliss.    

The downtown piper
... sometimes at the corner of Bay and Front, sometimes around the Eaton Centre, sometimes at the LCBO. His knees red and shiny from cold at times but he persists in all weather. Stubborn wee chappie, lifting the spirits around him. Who is he? He gets my loonie or twoonie when I find him.

© Brenda Dougall Merriman, 2011

[Other bits of nostalgia-nonsense-satire will mainly be posted on theFamdamily.]

(Almost) Silent Sunday

SUMMER ..! .. We’re in the midst of it! Isn’t it glorious? Didn’t we wait all year for this? YES!

Photograph May 2011 by BDM

Summer has a way of interfering with good intentions about blogging. Mine, anyway. All that daylight. All that warm air on exposed skin. So many surprising free pleasures in a great city—movies under the stars, live music beside the lake, rooftop barbecues, countless neighbourhood festivals, sidewalk cafes as the sun goes down. Urban citizen that I am, my undying gratitude goes to no mosquitos. 

Summer seems like “return to your roots” time. Family historians! Mount your expeditions! You know ... drag the family to an isolated cemetery 800 miles away that takes you two days to locate in an overgrown woodsy tangle of poison ivy. The gravestone(s) you seek is illegible or missing and the mosquitos (insert blackflies, ticks, snakes, or local pest) are killing everyone as the sunscreen drips off your forehead. Of course the kids are whining and husband’s face acquires thunder clouds. Nevertheless, a worthy effort. One must do what one must do.

My first experience with the time-honoured genealogical road trip was discovering that the cemetery in question had three different names. I have a large correspondence file with municipal officials to prove my confusion. No, wait. That file got chucked in the last downsizing. Eventually we learn that not only cemeteries, but also the names of ancestral villages/towns/counties/countries underwent metamorphoses.

Last summer I did a deep roots thing, over the seas. Now that is what genealogists dream of. To the places of the ancestors you never knew. You spent years trying to figure it all out, who they were, where they were, what it was like for them, how you relate to—or feel—their heritage.

Photograph September 2011 by BDM

Photograph July 2011 by Will Dougall

This summer is more about living branches. The world’s mightiest lake exerts a magnetic pull north and west to the sleeping giant. Everyone born there feels it.

With all the recent nasty surprises of climate change, let’s ENJOY while we have the good stuff. What are YOU doing to celebrate summer?

Dougall: A Reverend

Calton Old Cemetery, Edinburgh
In memory of Robert Dougall, Cabinetmaker
d. 27.5.1894 age 58y
Also his son James d. 5.3.1825 age 2y
Erected by his surviving son
the Rev. John Dougall,
Minister of St Andrew Scots Church, Sydney
          ~~~~
On receiving this transcript from Scottish Monumental Inscriptions I questioned the fact that Robert, born ca.1836, could have had a son born in 1825. Project spokesperson Helen is the nicest lady imaginable and sent me a photograph of the headstone which is very clear that the cabinetmaker died in 1854.  

One would expect that this monument was erected when the father died in 1854 or shortly thereafter, if John Dougall was visiting from Australia. Constructing more exercises for myself, who was this Rev John Dougall and do his ancestors relate to mine? Since I highly doubt a close relationship to my Midlothian Dougalls, I made this a purely Internet tangent.

Even though Australia does not have the only Sydney in the world, I quickly eliminated Sydney, Nova Scotia, as a target. It does have a St Andrews Church, now United Church of Canada, but its history is not revealed online.

Scots Presbyterian Church in Sydney, New South Wales (NSW), Australia, was founded in 1823 by Rev. John Dunmore Lang (1799-1878). The church’s website has a sketchy nineteenth-century history, mainly concerning Dunmore Lang’s career. He was the first Presbyterian clergyman to serve “the Convict Colony.” No other clergy names appear during his tenure, nor is Dougall’s name in the list of inducted ministers post-1878. I’m thinking this doesn’t necessarily exclude his being a temporary acolyte, but did he enhance his own stature on his father’s gravestone?

There is no death registered for John Dougall 1854-1920 in the less-than-comprehensive “Australia Deaths and Burials 1816-1980” on FamilySearch.org. The index to Statutory Deaths in Scotland on ScotlandsPeople gave 106 results all over the map between 1855 and 1920... too much for my dwindling credits to pursue a man whose main identifier is a father called Robert. If Rev John stayed in or died in Scotland, I’ve no idea where he might have lived or preached.

But “Australia Death Index, 1787-1985” on Ancestry.com shows a Rev John Dougall died in 1871 in Sydney, Woolloomooloo, New South Wales: no. V18713114 102—appearing to be the official death registration number. The search results also show plain John Dougall died 1871 NSW, father ROBERT, mother SUSAN, registration place Maitland West, NSW, no. 4258. It appears the second entry is from “Australia Cemetery Index, 1808-2007” on Ancestry.

 Interestingly, a Mrs Dougall died 1871 in Woolloomooloo no. V18713115 102, also registered as Susan Dougall at Maitland West NSW, no. 4261. Her parents are not named. Woolloomooloo is a district in the city of Sydney. Notice the juxtaposition of the registration numbers. Was Susan the Reverend’s wife? Mother? Daughter? Did they die at the same time? And why are they buried in Maitland, about 160 km miles north of Sydney? You can see that obtaining the death certificates and/or burial information would presumably be more revealing.

Next move, back to Scotland: on the new FamilySearch.org for a parish birth/baptism for a John Dougall 1820-1840. Great ... 287 results ... all the MacDougalls and even some Douglas entries (Patience, self! this happens in some databases). No, skip that and go to the IGI at the old FamilySearch.org where I get one result (filters allowed, thank you): John was baptized 3 June 1824 in Edinburgh parish, Midlothian, son of Robert Dowgall and Susan McCulloch (OPR extraction). This does not conflict with a brother James who was born before March 1823 according to the gravestone.

Duly following up, thanks to FreeCENScotland I find John as a 16-year-old in Robert and Susan Dougall’s 1841 Edinburgh household (their only child) at 39 Albany Street, and as a 26-year-old divinity student in 1851.

Fasti Ecclesiae Scoticanae should help me out here, but Dougall’s entry was the barest possible outline: born in Edinburgh in 1824; arrived in New South Wales in 1853; served 1854 at St Andrews, Sydney, and East Maitland 1869-1871; died in 1871.[1] It seems likely he attended either Divinity School (Kirk of Scotland) at the University of Edinburgh or New College (Free Church).

One notices the odd gap in Fasti from 1854 to 1869. Or is it a gap? Maybe the entry means he was continuously at the Scots Church until his appointment to East Maitland. However, it seems the man was barely settled in Sydney when his father died, so he might have taken an extended leave in Scotland. From the Sands Directories for Sydney and New South Wales 1858-1933 (intermittent) on Ancestry I learned that Rev John Dougall was resident at 450 Kent Street, central Sydney, from 1861 to 1868. The street number fluctuated a little— 450, 452, 458, 460—Kent Street.

Did John bring his mother Susan back to Australia with him? Did he marry a Susan? Both Scottish and Australian marriage indexes were searched 1851-1861 and later. Three possibles emerged: to Agnes Isabella Laing in 1853 (Edinburgh city); Elizabeth Howarth in 1859 (Goulbourn, New South Wales); and Agnes Graham in 1861 (St Michael’s, Linlithgow). There are no appropriate deaths indexed in New South Wales for Dougall women with these forenames. The directories online are not consistent enough to indicate if a “Mrs” Dougall survived him.

I have not ordered certificates, contacted the churches, or explored potential children/descendants. Any possible connection to my Dougalls will be back in the 18th century or earlier.
 
Were John and Susan the victims of a local accident or mutual illness? If I had the precise dates of deaths, I could search the Sydney Morning Herald, digitised at Australia Trove by the National Library.

A one-dimensional exercise has minimally placed the Reverend in the location where, ca.1854, he said he was. It seems a shame he must have served a congregation that may now have no collective memory of him.

[1] Hew Scott, Fasti Ecclesiae Scoticanae, vol. VII (Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1928), 587; digital image, Internet Archive (http://www.archives.org/ : accessed 1 July 2011), 587.