Semester two is now well underway and the focus has turned from incomprehensible reading to the first assignment of this module. Writing an essay was so last term; now we are creating presentations. I have to choose a ‘thing’ and tell its story. There’s a bit more to it than that but broadly that’s it. Given that I can pick absolutely anything, the choice is not easy. It was always going to be something of family significance but I am fortunate that I have several things to choose from, so decisions had to be made.
Should it be the patchwork quilt begun by my great grand-mother in the 1880s and worked on by three further generations since? Given that each patch has its own story that would be too complex. I have a slide limit of five for this and one of those has to be the title. What about one of two Victorian christening gowns, or my mother’s wedding dress, made by hand from a parachute? As I write this, I am so tempted to change my mind! Then there’s my grandfather’s long service watch, great granny’s christening mug or one of the artefacts brought back by my great-grandfather from a tea-buying trip to China and India. Maybe once the assignment is done, I will tell all these stories too.
For now though, I have decided to tell the story of Caroline Jessie’s locket. I met Caroline Jessie, possibly only once but I can clearly remember her sitting in a chair in her parlour, alongside two of her sisters. I would have been seven or eight at the time. I have several reasons for finally opting for this particular heirloom. To begin with, Caroline Jessie has no descendants. Her closest living relatives* are seven first cousins twice removed, of which I am one. If one of us doesn’t tell her story who will? This particular item didn’t just belong to a family member, it was made by one. Caroline Jessie’s father was a silversmith and made each of his five daughters a similar locket. The fact that this is one of a collection of five, is another fascinating part of its story.
So far, I have learnt how to tell if something is silver. In this case there is no hallmark to help as it wasn’t sold on the open market, or indeed at all. One suggestion involves putting ice cubes on it, which seems a little bizarre. I am glossing over the fact that I don’t know where the silver was mined, or what processes are involved turning what comes out of the ground into the object I now have. I have got gloriously side-tracked researching the silversmiths’ company for whom Caroline Jessie’s father worked. It seems it was very well-known and co-incidentally, the founder shares a name with one of my grandsons.
I shall now be encouraging people to tell their own stories, tell the stories of their ancestors AND to tell the stories of family heirlooms. I will need several lifetimes.
* In the interests of genealogical accuracy, I should add that there could be great great half nieces and nephews in America, who might be regarded as being closer living relatives but I am not in contact with any of them and the English and American branches of the family seem to have lost contact in the 1920s.
The #GenealogyForAll debate has turned to genealogical conferences and the fact that there are barriers to accessing most of these. Although the primary obstacle is deemed to be financial, this is not the only issue. Let us look first at cost. I have been instrumental in organising many family history events, both day conferences and residential conferences. I have also been heavily involved in the provision of online events. None of the events that I have helped to put on have intended to make a profit, merely to break even. Having been in circumstances where my ability to fund my family history research was severely limited, I have always been an advocate of keeping costs to participants as low as possible.
So what costs money? Let’s look at a weekend face-to-face conference. Accommodation is the biggest outlay. Cost is impacted on by the geographical convenience of the location and the facilities provided. A reasonable standard of food and accommodation is expected and the conference facilities need to be suitable, with good AV and wifi connections. A more recent consideration might be the ability to live stream the proceedings. All this is extremely costly and these charges are set to increase as inflation seems to be rapidly spiralling ever upwards at the moment. It would certainly not be unusual to be charged a four-figure daily sum for the hire of conference facilities in a central location and food and accommodation would be on top of that. More minor items on the conference organisers’ budget might include the printing of conference programmes, advertising and perhaps the provision of conference give-aways. Even the cost of conference badges has to be considered. If the conference is a commercial undertaking, which is rare in the genealogical world, there a profit margin will be added.
You may notice that the major omission in the previous paragraph is the cost of speakers. I declare an interest here. I am a speaker. When I first started teaching family history in the 1980s, when money was extremely limited in my household, I planned that what I earned would pay for the cost of my own research. I speak because I enjoy it and because I want to share my expertise but it is also a major part of the way in which I support myself. I consider that I give a professional service and that I and others like me, should receive financial recompense for this. It is a job. The fact that I happen to enjoy my job and that it overlaps with my hobby is irrelevant. For more than forty years I have done and continue to do, a great deal for the genealogical community on a voluntary basis but if I am asked to give a talk I would normally and justifiably, expect to be paid. I do occasionally speak for free for charities that I support, or for causes that I believe in and of course any talks I give for societies of which I am a trustee have to be delivered without payment.
I once organised a residential conference and a potential attendee asked if they could attend for free if they didn’t stay and didn’t want any meals; all they wanted was to listen to the talks. I gently explained that meals and accommodation were not the only costs and that speakers’ fees and travelling expenses were a significant part of the conference fee that we were charging. On that occasion, we were offering anyone who volunteered to help chair or steward a session, free attendance at that particular lecture and this is what I offered. I absolutely believe that speakers should be properly paid and not just because I am one. Like many aspects of the creative industries, working for ‘the exposure’ is not something that should be expected or tolerated. I cannot pay my bills with exposures. Some speakers, myself included, will occasionally offer to be paid in kind, giving a talk in exchange for free attendance at the remaining lectures that form the event but this should not be expected nor regarded as the norm.
Sometimes, people look at a speaker’s charges and the reaction is, ‘that’s a lot for an hour’s work’. Giving a talk of an hour’s duration is absolutely not an hour’s work. The talk has to be researched and the presentation put together, which could easily take several days. A good speaker will always run through a talk beforehand, every time that they give it. Handouts have to be checked to ensure that information is current and links are not broken. There is also the time taken to travel to a conference to be taken into consideration.
Most genealogy speakers are in fact quite poorly paid compared to speakers in other fields. I was once invited to join a list of public speakers who covered a full range of topics. I was told that I was charging far too little, I wouldn’t be taken seriously if that was all I asked for and that I needed to make my fee at least twice as much. I explained that I knew my market and the sum suggested would be prohibitive for my potential audience. I was put on that list (now discontinued) at my requested rate and only ever got one speaker request as a result.
Online conferences can often be staged with fewer overheads. Here an element of the cost is the platform through which the conference is delivered. This can be achieved via something like Zoom, relatively cheaply but if you require anything more sophisticated, such as you might expect at major events, then the web-development charges are significant. Even at a simple online event, there are still speaker fees to be paid, although you save on travel costs.
I know that the costs of conference attendance are prohibitive for many. By the time you add on travel to a venue, the cost of a weekend face-to-face conference is approaching that of a week’s package holiday to a foreign destination for a UK resident. One way to help to make these events more affordable, is to offer a day delegate rate. This is an option that I often go for, staying in a touring caravan to reduce the expense. It does mean that I miss out on some of the social experience but at least I can attend. I am fortunate, this is affordable for me but it won’t be for others. The ‘going’ day attendee rate at genealogy conferences seems to be about £75. Yes, this includes lunch but it is still far more than many can justify.
Of course, we should accept that having a hobby costs money and that little in life is free but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t take steps to mitigate matters for those whose participation is limited by the cost of events.
So what is the solution? I am not sure that I know. Some organisations have the wherewithal to provide free virtual conferences, of which RootsTech in March is a prime example and incidentally well worth registering for. Anyone who has ever complained that conferences are too expensive should take the opportunity to attend this one. You have access to the presentations long after the duration of the event. In general though, this is not a viable economic model. Although many genealogical societies are charities, it does not mean that they can afford to stage major events at no charge to participants. What most societies do do, is offer a comprehensive programme of lectures to members, many of which are now presented online. A year’s membership fee of £20 or less might be much less prohibitive than a conference fee and of course society membership offers far more benefits than just the lecture programme. Some societies allow non-members to attend their lectures without charge. It is definitely worth looking at the societies that cover your areas of interest to see if this is the case.
Perhaps an option might be sponsorship, although sponsorship is harder to come by than it used to be and securing it is a time-consuming and thankless task. This could be sponsorship of a whole conference, a lecture, or perhaps sponsorship of an attendee. Maybe local societies could offer a number of free places at an otherwise paid for event, to those who find cost a barrier. How those free places were allocated would be up to the event organiser.
Cost is not the only impediment. Geographical access to face-to-face events is an issue. Caring responsibilities also prevent people from attending, as does disability access. On balance, it seems that there are fewer barriers to participating in an online event but for some the availability of adequate wifi, or the lack of a device will prevent them joining in. Another barrier, which is a whole topic in itself, is how welcoming these events are. There are those who find attending such events a social challenge, for a variety of reasons. We need to make potential attendees feel comfortable about being part of an event.
It will never be perfect. Nothing can ever be fully accessible to all in every respect. There will always be events that are inaccessible. Nonetheless, we can and should do what we can to be more inclusive, to offer a variety, so that there may be something that suits and to open up the opportunity to attend genealogy events to as many people as possible.
It is hardly news that this week the genealogy community, or at least those who have C20th English and Welsh ancestry, have been revelling in the release of the 1921 census. I thought I’d share a few of my initial thoughts. Before I do, I can’t ignore the debate that has roused passions on both sides and that is the issue of the charges for access. This is the sort of post that you really need to read to the end, or at least part way, to understand the argument. I’ll tell you when you can stop!
FindmyPast won the contract to undertake the not inconsiderable task of digitising the records, so that those of us who can read this can potentially view these from the comfort of our own homes. In order to recoup the costs of digitisation, transcribing and indexing, there is currently a charge for access. Without indexing and transcribing, you would have to guess where your ancestor was living and work your way through the district page by page in the hope of finding them. Anyone who researched in the 1970s and 1980s can vouch for how long this took and how often it was unsuccessful because great granny wasn’t where you expected her to be. In recent decades, we have come to expect that we will have the benefit of online countrywide indexes, transcription errors notwithstanding.
It is important to make it clear that, contrary to popular opinion, searching the 1921 census index is free. You do NOT need a FindmyPast subscription for this. So, there is some limited work you can do without any cost. Once you have located someone in the index, there is a charge for each transcription or image of a page that is viewed. These cost £2.50 and £3.50 respectively, although those with the higher level of FindmyPast subscription get a 10% discount. If this follows the pattern of previous dataset releases, after a period of months, accessing the 1921 census will be absorbed into the FindmyPast subscription charge and when the exclusivity period expires, it will be available on other subscription platforms as well.
Unlike previous releases, this time, there has been a significant amount of disquiet regarding charging to view a public document. So where do I stand on this? First some facts. To those who say, ‘but it is volunteers who do the transcribing’, not in this case. The 1921 census has not been digitised, transcribed or indexed by volunteers. It is a project on a massive scale and the logistics of trying to make it available on a countrywide basis by voluntary effort would have been close to insurmountable. I’ve been around long enough to remember the work required producing indexes to the 1851 and 1881 censuses. In any case, most family history societies who undertake voluntary transcribing projects charge for access to these in some way, either by a direct charge, or by making them available only to those who pay the society’s subscription. This provides valuable funds that are ploughed back, to the benefit of family historians.
To those who say, ‘1921 census access should be free’, in some ways it is. There is no charge to view if you have access to The National Archives, Manchester Central Library or the National Library of Wales. The charge is not for access to the record itself but to the digitised images, so in effect the payment is for the convenience of home viewing. Of course, visiting one of the free access points is not possible, practical or affordable for many. Travel to London, Manchester or Aberystwyth for me would involve a two-night stay and with travel costs would be the same as downloading approximately 75 1921 images, assuming I stayed in the caravan. I will not be doing this but I am fortunate, my financial position, my health, my geographical location and my home responsibilities mean that I could visit one of these centres if I chose to. For many that is not an option.
One side of the argument is that we should accept that digitisation is not something that can be achieved for free, the heavy financial investment has to be recouped and the 1921 census is now available to anyone with internet access, or who can get internet access at a library, for the cost of a good cup of coffee or a pint of beer per image. The #FreetheCensus counter argument is that, as a public document, the 1921 census should be freely available to the public and that the current charges are prohibitive for some and thus counter to the #GenealogyforAll ethos.
Although I am better placed now, I began my family history at a time when financial pressures impinged heavily on my ability to research as I would have wished. That doesn’t make it okay, I am just saying that I understand. I am passionate about making family history accessible to as many people as possible, be the barriers financial, geographical, age related, due to a disability, or anything else you can name but there is a BUT. My own view is that there will always be a cost implication associated with researching your family history. If you think you don’t spend anything, think again. At a minimum, you will be paying for internet access or for your phone contract and for the electricity to run and charge these devices. Even if you don’t use technology and you interview granny who lives with you (no travel costs), you need to purchase a writing implement and something to write on. If you can read this, you are already at an advantage over others because you can access the internet, with all that has to offer to help you in your research. In an ideal world it would be an equal playing field and it would all be free, I really wish it was but economic forces just don’t work that way. The best we can do is to try to level that playing field as much as possible, to work together to help and support each other and to keep costs as low as we can.
I am mindful that there are those who are, at the moment, excluded from viewing the 1921 census because of the charge and in one sense I am one of them. I have wider interests than my own immediate family. I would love to be able to access the returns for the communities for which I conduct one place-studies (all four places!) and for all those in my one-name study. I want to look at the entries for unrelated people whose lives impinged on those of my family. I certainly can’t afford to do all this within my family history budget. So, I agree, this is not #GenealogyforAll but I would add one word – yet. It is very difficult to be patient when genealogy social media is full of ‘look what I found in the 1921 census’ but patience is what is required. In time, no time-scale has been announced but my bet (based on zero insider-knowledge) is on six months, access will become part of a FindmyPast subscription and therefore freely accessible via library subscriptions. For those whose libraries only have Ancestry access, the wait will be longer; I believe about three years.
What we have is not ideal and I’ll admit to a sharp intake of breath, coupled with disappointment, when the charges were announced. The current access does allow those whose barrier is geography, disability or family responsibility to do their research and that is a sizeable community, who in the past might have been excluded. In time, those for whom the barrier is financial will also be included. I wish that was now, I really do but I just don’t see how online, countrywide, transcribed and indexed access could be achieved without cost. It seems fairest to recoup that cost from those who are interested in seeing the records. I suppose an alternative would be for this to be government funded and make all taxpayers contribute. Despite what family historians might think, the general public would hardly see this as priority when the country is struggling to fund health and social care and education. The bottom line is, in an unfair and unideal world, whilst not fully inclusive, this is as good as we could hope for. If that makes me sound as if I am resigned to the inevitable and not ready to fight for greater inclusivity, that couldn’t be further from the case. Passion for change does have to be tempered with practicality and at least a small dose of realism. You can stop reading now, unless you want to know what I’ve been up to within my limited 1921 download budget.
Now to the post I was actually going to write. In the three days of 1921 census access, I have only had time for a brief play, having listened to the world’s first live official FindmyPast presentation on using the census at 7am on Friday morning! I do recommend doing some background work before leaping in. The help pages and various videos and blogs that are available, really are worth reading. Look out for a FindmyPast presentation from your local family history society, many will be hosting these in the coming weeks. I made a list of all my direct ancestors who were alive in 1921. There were ten: one parent, four grandparents and five great grandparents. I wasn’t expecting any amazing breakthroughs from the 1921 census, as I already have full birth, marriage and death details for all of these ancestors but I was interested in the additional detail.
I belong to a lovely online group of genealogy friends and we have decided to begin the year by gathering the life stories of one of our grandmothers, so ‘Granny’ was first on the list and easily found in the index, together with her mother and brother. I purchased the image and brought up the filmstrip allowing me to access, for no additional charge, the ‘extra materials’, which included the page providing the address and a useful map. It is a shame that the useful ‘enumerator’s book lists’ from 1911 were destroyed in 1921. Of particular interest to me was the name of the employer, in Granny’s case ‘J. Gardner & co. wholesale caterer etc.’, where she worked as a clerk. The address of the employer, Leadenhall Market, was also given. This confirmed my mother’s memory that Granny had worked for ‘John Gardner & co. at Smithfield’ – wrong market mum but close! The more specific detail has allowed me to identify this company, subsequently taken over by Trust House Forte. The family photograph collection includes pictures of Granny with colleagues named ‘Reidy’ and ‘Carlie’. I can freely search the 1921 census by employer using the advanced search. This brought up 340 entries of people living in London, Middlesex, Surrey or Kent who stated there employer to be J Gardner. Without purchasing the images, it was difficult to be certain the employer was the same J Gardner but I did find a twenty-two year old Elizabeth Reid on the list, who is a candidate for ‘Reidy’. I tried Car* in the first and last name boxes but there were no likely entries for ‘Carlie’, who in any case may not still have been working there in 1921.
Reidy and Carlie
Next up, Granny’s future husband. With a name like Frederick Smith, a little more care was needed before parting with cash. Hoping that he was still with his parents, I by-passed Frederick Smith and tried great grandad instead as he had more unusual forenames and fortunately he was listed with both of them. I was able to hover over the transcription button in the index to check who else was in the household before purchasing the image. That ticked off Herbert Havet Smith, his wife and grandad Fred. The surprise here was that they had already left London and were living in Southend-on-Sea, with grandad commuting to his office in London. Again, it was an employer I recognised; my mother followed in her father’s footsteps and was still working part time from home for the company in the early 1960s.
My father, his parents and two brothers, with the benefit of an unusual name, were also easily found. There are only two people, of any age, with my father’s name in the 1921 census. Co-incidentally the other lived a few hundred yards from my home address, more than 250 miles away from my father. I knew that my father grew up in poverty but it was still a shock to see all five of them living in just two rooms.
Two more great grandparents to find. John Hogg in Morpeth was no trouble, He was living with his ‘widowed’ (she was never married) sister, her adult son and two male lodgers, in three rooms. I can’t imagine what the sleeping arrangements would have been. The final great-grandparent was trickier. In the end I found her by searching for her son. Inexplicably searching for Fanny Thomasine, WITH the variants box ticked, did not bring her up; she had been mis-transcribed as Fanny Homasine. Her writing was pretty awful – maybe I can claim it is genetic! In fairness to great granny, the census was taken just a week before she died; she was described as ‘unable to work’.
I have decided that my children’s direct ancestors can wait until the 1921 census forms part of my subscription, so five households was my limit. I would have paid for great great aunt Fanny if I could have found her. She was in the county asylum, which I also failed to find. I did have a quick look at my home village in the index, using the place search. There do seem to have been some large scale garbling of the house names in my parish. In addition, somehow the parish seems to have become attached to the neighbouring one, in a run-together version of the names. There will be some wholesale correction sending when I can access these via my subscription. I have heard others report that there are some weird and wonderful place name errors, with towns being ascribed to incorrect counties but I gather that this is being worked on.
So overall a positive experience and I am happy to wait for more extensive access. When it really will be the 1921 census for all.
I would like to thank all those who have now listened to my Really Useful Show presentation about making the family history world welcoming for all. There was a mammoth audience at the live presentation and plenty of people have tuned in since. I think you have one more day to catch the recording, if you have a Really Useful Show ticket. The opportunity for discussion afterwards was limited, so there will be an open forum on this topic on Saturday 27th November at 10.30am UK time. I know this isn’t great for those of you in North America but we didn’t want to leave this too long and I don’t have a single evening or weekend afternoon free until mid-December. I am in the midst of a presentations marathon, at one point I did four in twenty-six hours and I am currently running at twelve a week. I do also have other things in my diary! The good news is, that other ‘next generation’ debates are being held and I have been asked to give this presentation again on two futher occasions. Saturday will be about exchanging ideas, not about me talking. If you want to come along, just contact me via the box on the Home Page for the link. If you are not able to listen to the original presentation, then you might like to look at the handout instead.
Having thought that I had had a record audience for the Really Useful Show, I topped that this week when a Norfolk FHS meeting, at which I was speaking, also had Devon FHS attendees. A whopping 385 people Zoomed in!
This week also brought the demise of a memory stick. Even the magicians at my local computer shop have failed to extract data from it. Yes, it is backed up elsewhere but I was due to back up again, so there are recent files that will be lost and gone for ever. I do put some things in the cloud but not everything. Now I’m about to take a deep breath and see how much I can retrieve from elsewhere.
In other news, I am not sure if I should congratulate a large electrical store near pretty much everyone or not. After three years and eleven months and numerous letters, emails and social media rants, I have finally received a gift card with a refund to which I was entitled. Mind you, I haven’t tried to spend it yet (there may only be 2p on it) and actually I am pretty reluctant to darken their doors again but fingers crossed that this is finally resolved.
In other exciting news, I have been approached to write another family history text book. This won’t be happening until my course is over but hoping for a 2023 publication date.
And just because no pictures go with this post, here is a gratuitous sunrise for you.
As part of the Family History Federation’s Really Useful Show tonight, 12 November, I will be giving a talk on the crucial topic ‘Genealogy: the Next Generation’. This is a live only talk, which will take place at 7.30pm. I set out some of my thoughts on this topic in a previous post and I would encourage you to take a look at this. I had intended that today’s session would be a short presentation, followed by a discussion but unfortunately, the show platform does not lend itself to the level of discussion that this topic deserves. There is also a limited number of places, so some potential attendees may be disappointed. The Friday evening will offer some thoughts and suggestions on the topic, as well as providing some discussion points. The handout for the topic is here. To provide the opportunity for open discussion, there will be a Zoom meeting on this important topic, on Saturday 27th November at 10.30am GMT. This meeting will have the potential for 500 attendees; the discussion will be in small groups. To be sent the log in details for the 27th November meeting, please contact me using the contact box on the home page.
I know, I know, I’ve been worryingly silent lately. I think this is my longest ever gap between blogs. You only have to read my previous post to know that I haven’t been sitting around doing nothing. Firstly the family have been visiting. This involves excavating the house from under its protective layer of dust, although I suspect the visitors think I could have done a better job. It also means that I’ve been cautiously out and about digging sandcastles, blowing bubbles, reading stories and other fun things.
The family history continues of course. This month, I have managed to have items in both leading UK family history magazines. My discussion on why our ancestors might have been embarrassing is in the latest issue of Family Tree Magazine and there is a short item about agricultural labourers as part of a feature about genealogy education in Who Do You Think You Are?.
One Pharos course (In Sickness and in Death: researching the ill-health and death of your ancestors) draws to a close and another, First Steps to a One-place Study, begins. I am also checking through Are you Sitting Comfortably: writing and telling your family history ready for October and working on a beginners’ course for Devon Family HIstory Society. There are talks to three countries on the horizon, I’ve done some more brick wall demolition and chatted all thing one-place for an upcoming Family History Federation podcast.
I am still working with my lovely memories group, which is really just chatting with friends. I have got to the end of 1973 in my hugely embarrassing diary read. Another ten years and it might start to get better!
If you’ve been following my ramblings for a while you will know that I am passionate about involving young people in their history and heritage. It is something that I have written about and give talks on. Finally, in no small part due to the wonderful folk at Hidden Branch, there is a real enthusiasm for moving forward in this area. Family history societies need to embrace this if they are to have a future. Down here in Devon we are looking for someone (or several someones) with Devon heritage, or a Devon address, in the 18-25 age range to help us to take our society forward in this respect. If that’s you, or if you know someone, please get in touch. It is no good a load of old people trying to decide what they think younger people want.
Following on from the great loft sort out, I’ve embarked on a bit of a book cull. This may sound like sacrilege but when you have a house as small as mine, it is hard to justify keeping books that you haven’t opened since the 1970s. This week on Twitter someone pointed out that 1980 (which as we all know must be about ten years ago surely) is the same distance from 1939 as it is from 2021 – noooooooo.
We are off on another mini jaunt soon, this time heading east to Norfolk. Time of course to revisit the Norfolk ancestry so I can plan the obligatory churchyard tour. There are images of parish registers online now, which weren’t available last time I worked on this branch and ooh look there are a few new ancestors to be discovered. Currently, I am wrestling with some Norwich woolcombers and Great Yarmouth shopkeepers and trying to negotiate my way past an ancestor who was not baptised and came from a non-will writing family who never appear in the newspapers. The use of more unusual forenames means that I am pretty sure who his parents are but evidence, there’s another thing.
The excitement is building prior to the start of my postgraduate certificate course but I have decided to chart my progress through that in a series of separate posts, so watch this space.
I always say that I work 100 hours a week, or just spend my life enjoying myself. See what you think. This was a fairly typical week in the busyness stakes.
Wednesday
Most of the day was spent hosting ‘One Place Wednesday Online’. #OnePlaceWednesday takes place each week on Twitter, when those with one-place studies ‘chat’. This was an experiment to see if we could have conversations that were more than 280 characters long. And we could! Here are the topics we covered (I was going to list just some of them but I wanted you to get the full favour of the day):
Why settlements grew up where they did
Organising heritage walks
When does a scandalous story become interesting history? How recent is too recent for the story to be told?
Studying indigenous history in ‘colonial’ one-places
Dating vernacular housing
Mapping gravestones
Places and a sense of belonging
Doing a one-place study without spending money and not using Ancestry/FindmyPast etc
War Memorials
Covid in our places
Preserving the story of the present for the future
What makes a community? – geography, religious persuasion, shared experience?
Bottom up history or top down?
Making one-place studies, history and heritage relevant to all ages
Use of family trees for one-place studies
Rural places being swallowed up by towns
Archaeological surveys
Gravestone styles
Ebay purchases
Lockdown (impact on activities, health, different people/different attitudes, changes to the way we research and things like meeting)
Railway accidents
Availability of records in different places
Interviewing “reluctant” contributors and interview techniques
Australian records
Coincidence (or too much of a coincidence) in a name change mystery
Parliamentary Archives
What a good idea the One-place Wednesday online was
1910 valuation
Multiple births
Then, if that wasn’t enough, I had to accompany Mistress Agnes to her virtual talk on seventeenth century crime and punishment at The Merchant’s House. No idea why she can’t go on her own.
Thursday
I was working on a Brick Walls presentation for Devon Family History Society. Working on the walls is a team effort, then I put them together in a presentation. My lovely memories group met to chat about school days in the evening.
Friday
This was devoted to Devon Family History Society admin, followed by a virtual talk to a local U3A about Memories of 1946-1969 and how to write your own and putting the finishing touches to the Brick Walls session.
Saturday
I went through one of the lessons, ready for my online One-place Studies course that starts next month. (There were still a few spaces last time I looked.) Every time, things need updating and links need checking. Then it was virtually off to North-west Kent Family History Society to give a presentation about agricultural labourers. In the afternoon, it was time to deliver the Brick Walls session, tackling submitted family history problems. I think we have taught people how to circumnavigate their own brick walls too well, as this year’s walls were super-solid, so our success rate was lower than usual but we did give suggestions for further research for those we couldn’t solve and there were some very happy customers.
Sunday
I sent out the second lesson to my Pharos Sickness and Death course students. Then making a start on the second Brick Walls session for August but it was mostly too hot for working. People have weekends off right? Not sure I understand this concept.
Monday
An early meeting with Australia, preparing to assist with another Brick Walls session later in the week. Then I had fun recording a podcast about young people and family history for the Family History Federation. The internet connectivity gremlins (not mine) were out in force but it was a very interesting discussion. Another Brick Wall preparation meeting in the evening.
Tuesday
Some CPD training for the job I must not mention and then that very rare thing for someone who works in the family history field, some of my own family history, prompted by a DNA match. This on a Cornish branch that I haven’t worked on for so long that it has never made it from paper on to Family Tree Maker. Given that my first version of this software was on floppy discs, you can see how long it has been neglected. It is close to forty years since I last took a serious look. The Buckinghams are finally being computerised! Not exactly breaking down my own Buckingham brick wall but some suggestions and it does look likely that they came from Devon, rather than Cornwall. Plus the joy of discovering that my 5x great grandparents were in court for fornication. I so need to get a copy of this record. The day ended with an Education sub-committee meeting for Devon Family History Society.
Wednesday
I spent a long time proofreading my article that is due to appear in the next issue of Family Tree Magazine. I am really pleased with this one but it does contain a tricky, sensitive paragraph, which has been worked and re-worked numerous times. Then I attempted to write a section for a rural history book that my local history group are compiling. This was followed by a hybrid meeting of said group. We were proud to have members from three continents, both in the room and online. We still haven’t quite cracked the sound quality coming from the room but we have plans and the speaker was online, so it wasn’t critical.
I still have the Australian brick wall session, listening to a talk, hosting a talk, hosting a coffee morning, sending for the fornication court report, an online chat for Pharos students, a committee meeting, giving a talk, oh and cleaning the house before the family descend at the weekend.
If you think I need downtime, I have been walking on the beach most days. One disastrous evening walk involved encountering far too many people in order to get from the car to the sand. I must have been in sight of getting on for 500 people only two of whom were wearing masks (apart from me). I am not counting the two with masks on their chins. Ok so it was outside but it was very crowded and it was ‘Freedom Day’. I do understand why this is a good thing for many people but equally it is anything but for others. I have friends with health conditions that not only make them extremely vulnerable but also make the vaccine less effective. There are those who are far more COVID anxious than I. Monday was imprisonment day for them. Whilst many people are being personally responsible and are aware of taking care of others, many are not. There are those whose physical or mental health means that they cannot risk being round idiots who are acting like it is all over and who have zero respect for others. I also feel for the young people who may be vulnerable themselves, have vulnerable family members, or who are just anxious and want to wear masks. Now this is not essential, bullying for mask wearing will escalate and sadly not just amongst children. Whilst lockdown anxiety was a very real problem, freedom anxiety is equally so for others, spare a thought for them. Me, I am sticking to early morning beach walks.
The last word belongs to Edward who has been fund raising for a local (to me not him) charity that helps families like his feel at ease and provides exciting activities in a safe space. He has been walking every day, when even leaving the house can be difficult for him. If you want a heatwave, get Edward to do a charity walk. His efforts always coincide with extremely hot weather. He has also been delivering ‘happy post’ to lift people’s spirits. His fundraising page (in his dad’s name) is still open.
Finally, a recent conversation about university in Edward’s household, Edward (aged 7) tells it like it is.
Edward’s mum: Granny is starting a course on archaeology in September
What else do you do on a summer Saturday but excavate the historic doll/stuffed toy collection from under the dust of ages and I do mean ages. I am not sure that the stuffed toys have had the dust bashed out of them for decades.
Meet the motley crew, some of who are almost centenarians.
They were removed from their cupboard-top home, stripped naked, apart from the two that my mother appeared to have sewn into their clothes and readied for the major operation.
Next, to wash the clothes, some of which needed hand washing. It might be a while since they were last washed but I know from bitter experience these are old fabrics that are far from colour fast. Sadly, since they were last laundered, it seemed that the moth had made a meal of some of the woollen items, lovingly knitted by three generations.
The shoes were scrubbed and left to drain.
Then bath time. I don’t have a real bath (I have what is officially the smallest bathroom in the world – seventeenth century cottages not being too hot on bathrooms, so I replaced the bath with a shower). No bath means no bubble bath, so I substituted washing up liquid. It turned out that I also had to use a rather rough washing up sponge to scrap the dust from grubby limbs and faces – sorry dollies.
From the left: Christine, Jilly, Mary, Jane, Betty, Sally, Big Peter – you can pin point my generation just from the names.
As you will see, the baby bath has stood the test of time. I am wondering if this will be marked up as an inappropriate image.
Mary and Jilly
You have no idea how long it takes to peg umpteen small items on the washing line. Take it from me – a long time and it used up every inch of line and every peg I could find.
The dolls were left in the sun to dry. I did have to temporarily amputate a few limbs and even one head, in order to let the water drain out.
Big Peter and baby Peter (not a lot of imaginative naming on the part of my mother there), now in their late nineties, were spared total immersion, not least because baby Peter’s clothes don’t come off. In fact I fear for the stability of the wires attaching Big Peter’s limbs and heads, hence the warning notice.
Then it was time to bash the soft toys together and stand well back as the dust flew.
A quick bake in the sun followed. Today they will be redressed and replaced on top of the cupboard. It is a sobering thought that if they wait as long for their next washing as they did for this one, I may not be around to do it.
My lovely memories group ladies are writing about the toys and games of their childhood at the moment. I am fortunate to have many of mine still in my possession. The great loft sort has revealed a feast of goodies. They may just become the subject of a talk. In the meantime, whether you still have the contents of your toybox or not, I would encourage you to record the memories of your own particular treasures.
NB no dolls were permanently harmed in the creation of this blog – well, I am not sure I should have washed Jane’s hair (already her second lot of hair) but she will get over it.
Here I am, three decades after serving on the executive committee of the Family History Federation, having the honour of being voted in as its President. I am following some seriously big names in the genealogical community. To be considered some kind of elder stateswoman, is not only a humbling experience, it also makes me feel incredibly ancient. Perhaps I should point out that during my time on the executive I was the youngest ever serving member; though I think that record has since been passed to someone else. Family history societies are at a cross-roads. Many have seen slowly declining memberships and have struggled to fill committee and volunteer roles in recent years. Now is the time to reinvent ourselves and our function, or to fade into oblivion. We cannot keep repeating the pattern that has not been working well and expect it to suddenly become relevant and appealing. The pandemic has forced us to rethink the way in which we do many things. Societies can either put change in the ‘too hard’ basket or embrace it and perhaps use it as the first step to a resurgence. Societies can still be relevant in today’s genealogical landscape but it takes work and insight to make them so. For many years, I have come into contact with societies across the world as a member, a volunteer and a speaker. In the past year, my ‘catchment area’ has expanded exponentially and I am looking forward to ‘meeting’ many more family historians in the coming months. I am very mindful of the honour that has been entrusted to me in these challenging times.
On the family history front, I have been getting out my sledge hammer and attempting to crash through some family history brick walls for Devon researchers. Despite much of the sleuthing being done by my colleague, I ended up presenting the findings in a FindmyPast podcast, which you can view here. These may not be your personal brick walls but the techniques we used could be effective on your own problem ancestors.
I have also had what is probably classed as an old-age crisis. Before I wrote Barefoot on the Cobbles, I debated whether to write a novel or take a post-graduate course. On that occasion, the novel writing won. I am still playing with ideas for a possible third novel but nothing yet seems quite right, so I have returned to the post-graduate idea. I am excited to have been accepted by University College Dublin as a remote student on their certificate course in experimental archaeology and material culture. I am not quite sure what I have let myself in for but I am not going to be bored.
My ‘Discovering more about your Agricultural Labouring Ancestors’ online course is coming to an end and the students are now compiling case studies about their chosen farming ancestors. I have a few more submissions to read from my ‘Writing and Telling your Family History’ students, then thoughts will turn to next month’s course, ‘In Sickness and in Death – researching the ill-health and death of your ancestors’. As I said, no time to be bored.
For those of you waiting to hear about the end of our short trip to South Devon, watch this space.
I decided that it was high time that I looked at some of my closer DNA matches, where I am unable to identify a common ancestor. I should explain that ‘closer’ in my case means not very close at all. My lack of cousins means that I only have three matches above 70cM and one of those is my daughter. My attention turned to a 48cM match with no tree. From shared matches, I had placed this person on the Smith/Seear side of my family tree. The Smith/Seears are tricky DNA wise because three generations of Smiths marry Seears, so I am often related to people on this line more than once. This means that suggested relationships are distorted. Without my pedigree collapse, the amount of shared cM with the mystery match might suggest that the relationship was in the region of a 3rd or 4th cousin, maybe with a removed or two.
The profile indicated that the user had joined Ancestry in 2016 and hadn’t signed in for over a year. I don’t want to give the actual name for privacy reasons but the user name looked like it could be the first half of an unusual female christian name and a surname run into one. This isn’t it but think constabolt might be Constance Bolt. I guessed at the name, Googled it and up came an obituary for the husband of someone with that name. This indicated that the person I was searching for was born in a particular smallish town in the south of England. Further internet searches revealed a maiden name and a middle christian name. To make this story easier to follow, yet still anonymise it, I am going to tell it with a fictitious maiden name. Let us say it was ‘Forester’, which probably has a similar rarity value as the actual name. This with the other information was unusual enough for me to locate a birth entry and discover that the lady, if she was still alive, would be in her nineties. Better still, her mother’s maiden name was Seear. Not only did it look as if I was on the right track but a great advantage over Smith. Yay! Eureka and all that. Now all I had to do was find a marriage for a Seear and a ‘Forester’ and I was away. This was going to be easy. Err, no. Not a marriage in sight. I searched for any other ‘Forester’- Seear children. None. Given that the marriage was likely to be not long after the first world war, it seemed probable that Miss Seear had married x before she was married to Mr ‘Forester’.
The Seears’ normal stomping ground is east London. There couldn’t be many in this small southern English town could there? There weren’t. I tried the 1911 census and the 1939 register for that area. I found a family in 1911 with two daughters who were potential wives for Mr ‘Forester’. They both married other people and died with those surnames; no second marriages to Mr ‘Forester’. The 1911 census indicated that there were other children who were not in the household, maybe I could find another daughter. According to the census there had been nine children, three had died and three more needed to be found. The family was headed by a married Emily Seear, no husband in sight. I found her in 1901, still in London, still married and still no husband, this gave me three more children. The children had unusual christian names but I couldn’t identify birth registrations for them all. Checking the births I could find on the GRO site gave me Emily’s maiden name but searching with Seear and the maiden name did not reveal the missing children, nor were they registered under Emily’s maiden name. I had her year of marriage from the 1911 census. This meant that I could find her marriage entry and the name of Mr Seear, who was potentially the grandfather of my DNA match. It was a name I recognised and suggested that the match and I were third cousins once removed twice over. I will continue to refer to him as Mr Seear, although, from this point, I was searching under his full name.
I was left with a gap and some questions. Which daughter of Emily Seear was the mother of my match, why weren’t all the children registered and where the heck was Mr Seear, who died in the 1920s but is elusive between his marriage and that point? He was clearly around to father nine children on Emily, at least one of whom really was his biological child, or there would be no DNA match.
By diligent searching I found one of the daughters marrying under a variant of Seear and then a subsequent marriage, under the surname of her first husband, to Mr ‘Forester’, which proved my link to my DNA match.
I did find the baptism of one of the children whose birth wasn’t registered but I couldn’t find the three who had died by 1911; perhaps Emily was counting still-births. There are some large gaps in the children but given what appears to be a rather odd relationship between Emily and Mr Seear that isn’t surprising.
So what do we know about Mr Seear? Given that he is my first cousin three times removed and not a close relative, I hadn’t researched him beyond his name and appearance with his parents in the 1861 and 1871 censuses before. He married in his home area in East London in August 1881, claiming to be a banker’s clerk, yet he can’t be found in the 1881 census, despite my knowing his address just four months later. Seear is a bit of a nightmare to search. Apart from the variants (Seer, Sear, Seeare and many more), it is often mis-transcribed as Leear or Teear, or indeed it seems something else entirely.
I did find a listing for Mr Seear going to Baltimore in 1883. His occupation was ‘agent’. Much as I’d love to think this was some kind of secret agent, I am quite sure it was as the representative of a company or organisation. Perhaps this is why there is an apparent gap between the first child in 1882 and the second in 1886. I totally failed to find Emily or Mr Seear in the 1891 census. I know they were in east London when a child was born at the end of 1891. I tried every technique I know, including search for christian names and dates of birth, without a surname. I tried the 1890 US census in case they all went to America; they were not there either.
I can’t find any children born between 1886 and 1891 when suddenly there were three children born in as many years, perhaps the relationship was re-kindled. There is then another gap before the final child in 1899. I have a baptism for this child on which Mr Seear calls himself a Dining Room Proprietor.
So we reach 1901 and no surprise that Mr Seear is conspicuous by his absence. Sadly, he seems to have kept his name out of the newspapers as well. Emily, describing herself as a married coffee house keeper, is still in the London area, with six children, including the mother of my DNA match but who is using a different christian name (I suspect an enumerator copying error as the names, although very different, have the same number of letters and shape).
Fast forward to 1911 when Emily and three children are in the south of England. Lo and behold Mr Seear turns up, living in London with his brother, claiming to be unmarried and working as a caterer for a licensed victualler. Two final sad entries, which show that Mr Seear spent time in the workhouse before he died.
This has taken me all morning but I am pleased to be able to untangle the tale. Shame about the other 16,000 unidentified DNA matches!
The History Interpreter - Janet Few 