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.

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.