Hands on Latvia: Riga

Like my "Hands on Scotland" series (see alphabetical sidebar of topics on right), this three-part series is on recent travels in the country of Latvia. Specific key family points. Not intended to be a travelogue ... more like setting the scene; providing a few memory triggers; atmosphere leading to the warm personal embraces. Information overload is still upon me.

This is the iconic view of part of the Old Town from the tower of St. Peter's Church, on an overcast and chilly day.

Who said the past is a foreign country? It is indeed, as all dedicated family historians know. In this case, the research had been pushed about as far as it could go—although, admittedly, some vital details of the past are still missing. The travel venture was primarily geared to the present and to meeting with live family relatives. That in itself was a foreign country—geography, language, and culture. Mission accomplished, glad to say, a pastiche of past, present, and future.

Typical side street

"Big Christopher" protects the city from a glass box on the Daugava river bank

Riga. The entire Old Town (VECRĪGA) is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I love that designation every time I see it in my travels. Here: walking the cobblestone footsteps of former ancestral unknowns, absorbing the sights, sounds, customs, stories, and let's not forget the food! Vecrīga is not a large area, very walkable in its 800-year-old footprint. This was my second visit to the city, with more time now to explore side streets, inspect "public art," poke at street markets, and linger on café terraces.

Riga will be the European Capital of Culture in 2014. The city is renowned continent-wide for its examples of Art Nouveau architecture as well as cultural institutions. On the down side: preparation for the 2014 event meant temporary closures of some museums. On the plus side: we were ahead of the general tourist season and shared the city mainly with spring-happy locals.

Most striking are the streets of restored mediaeval building facades that survived centuries of war and destruction, even during the bleak Soviet occupation. Times are not sufficiently prosperous yet to restore many interiors to the same degree. Churches often burned down from fire and were painstakingly rebuilt to original specifications, some more than once. Inside St Peter's, neglected stone monuments sadly need attention.  

The entrance to our hotel faced this odd conjunction of buildings!

Our hotel (Hotel Justus) was chosen for its offbeat charm, abutting a wall of the Dom cathedral complex. Each room was differently shaped and furnished. The decor was a mixture of heavy and whimsy (OK, so I'm no furniture expert):

Part of the lobby/bar

One of my goals was the Latvia War Museum located partly in the ancient Powder Tower (Pulvertornis) but disappointingly it yielded no information about the resistance fighters of the 1905 Revolution—what I needed was one of the closed museums!

We were not into the Latvian Black Balsam liquor yet!

The family history highlight in Riga was dinner at a delightful restaurant with the Linde cousins, descendants of our mutual Freibergs ancestors. What a thrill to meet and jabber excitedly after years of email contact! I say "jabber" because we relied heavily on Madara and Ieva, fluently bilingual, to translate for us and their mother Jolanta. The questions and answers were flying as we got to know each other. We almost forgot to eat. 

And we finalized our plan for a day trip to the family farm!

For Facebook friends, many more photos to be seen there :-)

© 2013 Brenda Dougall Merriman

The Battle of York

Illustration from Benson J. Lossing in 

The Pictorial Field-Book of the War of 1812

Regretfully I cannot be among the interested parties who will witness a sunrise ceremony on Toronto's western waterfront on April 27th. Travel plans waive my participation and a blog posting that day, but I will be there in spirit. It's a memorial gathering for the day two hundred years ago when the invading fleet sat poised at dawn to take our town. Then "Walking in their Footsteps" will subsequently trace the American advance from their landing to the garrison.

As Admiral Chauncey's fourteen ships approached Gibraltar Point from the east the day before, they would have had a view like this.

Robert Irvine’s "View of York" painted ca.1816 (Art Gallery of Ontario, ID 2946; a gift from descendants of the late Mrs Stephen Heward).[1]

And here is a closeup from that painting to show the old embankment at the garrison they were about to attack

By no means have I read all the excellent books about the War of 1812 and the Battle of York but I'd highly recommend Robert Malcolmson's Capital in Flames: The American Attack on York, 1813 (Montreal: Robin Brass Studio, 2008). Apparently a paperback edition is in the works. And the newsletter of the Friends of Fort York, The Fife and Drum, vol. 17, no. 1 (March 2013) is crammed full of bicentennial details. I am SO going to miss "There's a Great Day Coming"!

In every war, and perhaps every battle, on both sides there are missteps, mistakes, miscalculations, fumbles and stumbles, besides the unpredictable outcome and human consequences. The little colonial town of York, even though it was the capital of Upper Canada, for various reasons was not best prepared for defence. It had never been designated a military post per se.

What would I blog about anyway, if I were here on April 27th? It's rather pointless to regurgitate what I think of as classroom history even if I pretended to be a historian. Truth is, I don't know if "history" is formally or otherwise taught anymore in elementary and higher public education. Its relegation in some provinces into social studies is disquieting ... "socials," as coined by the youngsters, who, by the age of fourteen, seem to know zip-all about the founding of this country or its geography.

History is near the top of any responsible genealogist's consciousness so it's heartening that many memorial events for the War of 1812 have been underway since last year. Therefore ... on yet another reading of that crucial four-day period in 1813, I feel compelled to mention some of the incidents, well-known or otherwise, that capture my imagination:

■ The British decision to blow up the grand magazine of some 30,000 lbs of ammunition at about 1:30 pm caused a massive shock felt all the way across Lake Ontario, shaking buildings in Niagara. An estimated thirty-nine American troops were killed and over two hundred combatants dreadfully wounded.

■ Not long after this disaster, under orders from retreating General Sir Roger Sheaffe, Col. William Chewett and Major William Allen of the 3rd regiment, York Militia, with Rev. John Strachan, presented themselves to Col. Cromwell Pearce for the surrender of York.

■ Doctors―Baldwin, Beaumont, Aspinwall, and others—worked non-stop at the garrison with the ghastly casualties; some of the injured from both sides were billeted in town homes and lodgings.

■ General Zebulon Pike soon died of his injuries. Malcomson says his remains were preserved in a cask of liquor for a return trip to Sackets Harbor; in days gone by this was not an unusual way to transport a corpse.

■ When the Americans seized correspondence and personal effects left behind by hastily retreating British military officers, General Dearborn took great pleasure in using Sheaffe's musical snuff box.

■ Despite property protection in the terms of capitulation, shops and houses were ransacked at will, some repetitively; no-one stopped the ransacking and general madness for three days until American commanders finally acknowledged the pleas of town officials.

■ I have never been able to determine if the stolen fire engine still exists in an American museum, or if the story is apochryphal.

■ Some "fraternization" with the enemy occurred due to many cross-border family and commercial bonds; some Canadians benefited from hauling off wharfside swag, all of which the Americans could not load onto their ships.

■ Some militiamen who had not participated at the battle came to the garrison to obtain parole in the belief it would exempt them from future duty; the Americans duly recorded them.

■ Ultimately, most of the garrison and the parliament buildings were torched.

■ A human scalp had been on display next to the ceremonial mace in the parliament buildings; it was sent along with other trophies to the U.S. naval department. The mace was given back to Ontario by President Roosevelt in 1934.

■ While some Upper Canada government loot was eventually returned, the U.S. navy still possesses the large carved wooden lion that decorated the speaker's chair in the Legislative Assembly. Truly a face to ponder!

Original at the United States Naval Academy Museum, Annapolis, Maryland; the image itself is from the website of the Canadian War Museum which appears to be exhibiting a facsimile.

Photograph BDM, March 2013

The War of 1812 memorial at Victoria Square in Toronto sits in the old military burial ground at Wellington and Portland Streets. Few grave markers survive from the early days of York. The fallen soldiers and militiamen are represented by the figure known as the "Old Soldier."

[1] Stephen Otto, "The Thomsons: Early Builders at Fort York," The Fife and Drum [Newsletter of The Friends of Fort York] (http://www.fortyork.ca/resources/newsletter-archive.html : accessed 11 December 2012) vol. 14, no. 2, July 2010.

© 2013 Brenda Dougall Merriman

Cemeteries Part 15: Christians and Pagans

... stretching the cemeteries concept a bit ...

Sousse medina

Artifacts in the Kasbah Museum in the town of Sousse, Tunisia, had me gaping in astonishment. Sousse is one of Tunisia's Mediterranean coastal towns existing since eons BC. It became a thriving Phoenician (aka Carthaginian) trading post and then an indispensable port into the Roman province of "Africa." It was attacked by Vandals and Berbers and occupied by the Byzantines before the 9th century Arab conquest. The mediaeval walls of the Sousse medina, a World Heritage site, were built for protection against further waves of attack by Normans, Ottomans, Spaniards, and French. Today they enclose a vibrant life that seems little changed since then. The only minor damage sustained in five hundred years occurred during a sea bombardment during the Second World War.

Sousse was home to early Christians whom the Romans originally oppressed and persecuted. As in other parts of the empire, Christians resorted to burying their dead in underground catacombs away from the eyes of authority. They were by no means the first to employ this practice; remains and items of the Carthaginians preceded them, and probably others. Outside the walls are fifteen kilometres of catacomb tunnels with something like 15,000 burials. Rediscovered in the 19th century, only a tiny portion has been excavated and restored.

Sousse medina, kasbah wall

The splendid museum is located in the kasbah, high in a strategic corner of the medina walls befitting its first function as a military fortress. The kasbah itself is beautifully designed and proportioned, and the museum architecturally complements it to dramatic effect. Highlights are the spectacular mosaics created as floor decorations in the Roman homes of Sousse, then called Hadrumetum. They are displayed vertically for best (overwhelming, actually) effect, many of them room-size, some in fragments. Greek and Roman mythology are the main artistic themes, with occasional scenes of hunting, fishing, and daily life.  

A poor shot of a smaller masterpiece

Roman baptismal font

Most stunning of all: what looks like a typical Roman communal bath, with incredibly beautiful mosaics, is a 6th-century Christian immersion baptismal font. The Latin inscribed around the edge is Gloria in excelsis deo, et in terra pax [h]ominibus bone, bolum[itatus l]audamus te (glory to God in the highest and peace on earth to men of good will, we praise Thee).

But to the point: the museum also exhibits a number of fascinating funerary and burial-related objects from the catacombs. Viewing marble epitaphs for Byzantine Christians of the 4th century was awesome enough but some of the pagan Roman stelae date back to the 1st century AD. Most of them commend the departed to the household gods (dis manibus sacrum - DSM) so containers and food for a meal were deposited with them. A stela usually gives the person's name, age, parents, status, and name of the person who erected the stone. The date of death does not seem to be the norm!

This one for Felicita is explained:

In this one for Demetrius, we can see a dedication to the goddess Aphrodite:

What amazed me was the antiquity of the stones and that the inscriptions could have survived so long―we are accustomed to most cemetery markers being worn away by weather elements after a few hundred years. Being "stored" underground likely helped preserve them. Time at the Kasbah Museum was priceless, worth getting lost trying to find it through the twisting medina alleys and steep climbs!

All photographs BDM November 2012

© 2013 Brenda Dougall Merriman   

McFadyens Part 17: Realigning Roderick

~ A portion of ongoing revisions for Ancestors and Descendants of Donald McFadyen and Flory McLean from the Isle of Coll, Scotland to River Denys, Nova Scotia ~

Roderick McFadyen was a son of my Donald "the pensioned soldier" McFadyen and Flory McLean, born when his parents were at Toraston on the Isle of Coll, Scotland. There is no baptismal entry for him in the Coll parish records.[1] Only five of Donald and Flory's eight children were baptized, which left the birth order partially tentative.

For some time I believed Roderick was the third child and third son of this couple. His year of birth ranged from ca.1798-1799[2] to ca.1806.[3] Roderick (or Rory, the usual nickname) has not been found through the use of 1841 census indexing.[4] Because ships' passenger lists could be even less accurate for age than the 1851 census, for the time being I will go with the earlier birth theory. As yet I don't have a copy of his full death certificate wherein his age would have been noted―another piece of secondary information.

The recorded baptisms of two of his brothers (Lachlan, 30 November 1798 and Angus, 16 May 1801) make it possible that Roderick was born between August 1799 and August 1800—assuming normal pregnancy terms and the customary infant baptisms soon after birth.

Highland naming patterns come into play here (second son named for the mother's father; Roderick followed this in naming his own children). Previously I had placed Angus in the second child position. That meant looking for an Angus McLean as the potential father of our Flory McLean. Did such a man exist in the 1776 Catechist's List for Coll?[5] He would have to be an adult because Flory was born just a couple of years later ca.1778. Yes and no. At Sorisdale is an Angus, son of Peter McLean and Margaret McDonald. I have grave reservations about this as a hypothesis:

1) Angus is the first child of this couple and the only one of age for the catechism questions; several more children are all under the age of seven years old; it's likely Angus is between seven and ten years old, therefore not an adult.

2) Peter and Margaret are not "family names."

Placing Roderick as the couple's second son alters the earlier generation theory. Roderick McLean (not Angus McLean) would be the likely name of the child's maternal grandfather. I find two adult Roderick McLeans in the 1776 census of Coll. One is married to Flora Morrison with no others in their household, i.e. childless; the supposition would be they are either elderly or recently married, preferably the latter! They are at Arnabost "enumerated" only three households away from Donald-the-soldier's parents. While this Roderick McLean and Flora Morrison seem the best candidates as my Flory's parents, the Coll parish register has no baptisms for any children of this couple.

The other Roderick McLean heads a family at Triallain, married to Christian Campbell, with two small children (John, Ann) and a servant. Well ... Christian and John are not "family names" for what it's worth, about all I can muster to argue against this choice. As luck would have it, there is no recorded birth of a Flory/Flora McLean ca.1778 to a father called either Roderick or Angus McLean.

We know a little more about Roderick later in life. He married Marion McDonald of Grishipol, Coll, in 1826.[6] Marion was recorded as Sarah in most subsequent records; the two names are known to be used interchangeably despite their dissimilar sounds. In 1828 Roderick's parents and his younger siblings departed for Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, on the ship Saint Lawrence.[7] The young married couple chose to stay on Coll even though living and agricultural conditions were steadily worsening.

Roderick and Sarah had nine children born on Coll from 1827 to 1847, father eking a cottar's existence variously at Grishipol, Arivorich, and Torandeich. Notations on the 1851 census show that the children then living at home were being subsidized by the Highland Destitution Commission—like many others on Coll. Finally, together with Sarah's parents, they set off for Australia in 1856 on the ship Lloyds.[8] Their destination was the Hunter River Valley of New South Wales, about 200 km north of Sydney.

Panorama of Morpeth, 16th October 1865, M2120,
Cultural Collections, University of Newcastle, flickriver.com

Emigrants from Coll had reached Morpeth and the Hunter Valley as early as 1838, starting a classic migration chain.[9] Roderick's son John preceded him there, perhaps before 1851. The Roderick McFadyen who died at Morpeth in 1870 is identified as the son of Donald and Flora McFadyen.[10] Australian descendants have successfully traced their roots back to Roderick. His son John settled at farm no. 3, Narrowgut, on the river west of Morpeth.[11]

[1] Coll Kirk Session Minutes, 1776-1813; National Archives of Scotland (NAS), CH2/70/1. (The minutes include baptisms and marriages in this period, later copied into a separate parish register.)

[2] "1851 Census Scotland," database, Ancestry.ca (www.ancestry.ca : accessed 1 October 2008), entry for Roderick McFadyen, Argyllshire, Coll & Tyree, Enumeration District 3, p. 10; citing General Register Office for Scotland, CSSCT1851_115, roll 904.

[3] "New South Wales, Australia, Assisted Immigrant Passenger Lists, 1828-1896," database, Ancestry.com (www.ancestry.com : accessed 28 February 2010); Roderick McFayden, Lloyds, 1856.

[4] Searches at FamilySearch.org, Ancestry.com, and ScotlandsPeople were negative.

[5] "List of the Inhabitants in the Island of Coll Decr 2nd 1776," in Coll Kirk Session Minutes 1776-1813; NAS, CH2/70/1. The list is also transcribed at Isle of Coll Genealogy, www.collgenealogy.com.

[6] "Isle of Coll Marriages 1821-1855," database, Isle of Coll Genealogy (www.collgenealogy.com : accessed 27 February 2010), McFadden-McDonald marriage, 29 August 1826, parish register 2, p. 8.

[7] Saint Lawrence passenger list (1828); Nova Scotia Archives (NSA), MG 1, Vol. 227. NSA states the list is faithfully reproduced in J.L. MacDougall, History of Inverness County, Nova Scotia (1922; reprint, Belleville, ON: Mika Publishing, 1972), 128.

[8] "New South Wales, Australia, Assisted Immigrant Passenger Lists, 1828-1896," database, Ancestry.com (www.ancestry.com : accessed 28 February 2010); Roderick McFayden, Lloyds, 1856.

[9] Rootsweb.com, SCT-ARL-TIREE Mail List (http://archiver.rootsweb.ancestry.com/th/index/SCT-ARL-TIREE/2010-01) January-February 2010.

[10] Deaths search, database, NSW Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages (www.bdm.nsw.gov.au/ : accessed 12 January 2009), Roderick McFadyen, Morpeth District, death registration no. 4529/1870.

[11] Correspondence Michael McFadyen to Brenda Merriman, 2 August 2012.

© 2013 Brenda Dougall Merriman

Blogiversary

Six years. It's been a road trip. Sometimes it seems like it's been forever, because genealogical problem-solving is endless. But each new problem is fresh and stimulating. The vehicle is more or less familiar now but the scenery and adventures never fail to compel. The detours are just as challenging and rewarding as the main highway. I'm grateful for readers and my followers and the support of the Geneabloggers group.

My blog is not solely focused on my historical families or even on a particular resource area. I've become comfortable with cherry-picking from a sometimes-distracting variety of ancestry-related interests; "eclectic" works for me. Though I moved the camels to anotherfamdamily, there will still be some travel posts here that involve genealogy.

A recent post on the APG-List [Association of Professional Genealogists] aired frustrations with clients who don't appreciate (or understand) the sheer hard work and time their problems normally require. It really struck a nerve with me. In thirty-five years as a genealogist for hire, the overwhelmingly-frequent attitude I met, and still meet, among the basically uninformed―including inexperienced clients―is how far back can you go? That is the measure the general public perceives as "success"―the length of the pedigree chart or the bushiness of the "tree."

It also made me realize that quite often I try to write here about the research process. The details of evidence discussion and negative findings may not always feature in a standard-format family history, and are unwanted on popular genealogy TV programs, but they suit the blogging medium. Even using my own mistakes to illustration a lesson is of benefit to me if no-one else.

Like most Geneabloggers, I regularly read a favourite slew of blogs. Some are for community news; others involve problem-solving methodology and the finer points of analyzing evidence. The Internet has spawned an amazing library of good writers—genealogical and otherwise―who inform and inspire. The only drawback is keeping your reading list trimmed to a reasonable length!

Every blogger pines for comments and I'm no exception. Comments reflect a connection made or a spark shared, or might even generate a healthy dialogue. The slightest remark now and then can be enlightening or encouraging. This year I've had feedback that it's difficult to leave comments here, and I'm having trouble fixing the blogger.com settings to something satisfactory. If I open up my comment settings to "Anyone" I get a depressing daily pile of web-crawling spambot junk.

I used to get more comments a few years ago before Google started regularly changing its own footprints which made me fool around with my settings. Sigh―who remembers what setting they ticked a few years ago that might have worked for a short time and is no longer an option.

The choices blogger.com gives me for comment settings:

1. Anyone; includes Anonymous Users (that's the spammy one)

2. Registered User; includes Open ID (whatever that means; requiring a commenter to register with whom??)

3. User with Google Accounts (seems to eliminate non-Google people; I'm fairly sure Google does not own the universe yet)

4. Only members of this blog (I have "members"? when did that happen?)

Currently I'm trying out number three. Realistically speaking, there may be little or nothing to comment on so (cross my heart) I try not to have excessive expectations. No matter the quality or relevance or usefulness herein, blogging seems to be me.

It will always be a road trip.

© 2013 Brenda Dougall Merriman

Hello, George (Stay a little longer next time)

He surfaced again for a moment in time. George Porter was alive in 1805!

Big deal, you say? Yes!—a big deal to find a man to whom I bade a conditional, frustrated farewell over a year ago. A man who disappeared from Upper Canada records by 1800; a man who left behind four young children in the town of York; whose abandoned wife by this time was bearing the child of another man.

In prior research, we knew George received a location ticket for lot 5 concession 3 "east of the Don [River]" in 1795.[1] With diligent labour thereon, a man could expect to receive the crown patent (title deed) for the property in due course. The Index to Land Patents showed unexpectedly that the crown patent issued to Parshall Terry on 2 August 1803, presumably because George had defaulted due to his disappearance.[2] York Township Papers pre-dating the crown patent shed no light on George.[3] To all intents and purposes, he completely vanished after 1799 when he was last recorded living in York.[4] A wide range of sources did not turn up a convincing "likely" George Porter in the following years.

However, a search of the York Township Abstract Index to Deeds—a chronological index to post-patent transactions―uncovered a surprising truth. The search would normally be considered useless because each piece of property only begins with the patent owner. But, turn out the patent did issue in George Porter's name on 10 July 1801 (not August 1803).[5] Furthermore, George Porter "late of York, carpenter" sold the land to Parshall Terry―a regular "bargain and sale" between two individuals―on 17 September 1805.[6] Alas, the document copy does not contain any information as to money or consideration George might have received. 

Nor does the conveyance state where George was residing at the time! What the document does tell us is that George employed a man called Samuel Heron as his attorney to enact the sale for him. Heron was a Scotsman known to be in the towns of Newark and York at the same time as George; their marriages took place about the same year.[7] Their properties north of York town were not far from each other. Heron stayed in York and vicinity to become a merchant and a miller; business reverses left him in debt by the time he died in the 18-teens. Wherever George had betaken himself, he trusted Heron to perform the transaction for him. Both Heron and Terry must have known where George was.

If I want to find out what eventually became of George Porter, the new information adds some possibilities from Samuel Heron's timeline. But the total lack of clues to George's nativity is very hampering. Heron's Scottish origins in Kirkcudbright are a non-starter because no George Porter was baptized in Dumfries.[8] It's barely possible they met during Heron's brief stay in New York City. It seems certain they would have known each other in the small town of Newark where Samuel joined his merchant brother Andrew Heron in 1793.

Parshall Terry was another York pioneer; a Loyalist with Butler's Rangers, he finally settled along the Don River. He would have been well acquainted with his neighbour George. But I don't think he's going to help me because he died in 1808 while crossing that same river.[9] Unlike George (apparently), Terry and Heron were ambitiously entrepreneurial and acquired large tracts of land—for better or worse at times.

A scene on the Don; University of Toronto's collaborative Don Valley Historical Mapping Project http://maps.library.utoronto.ca/dvhmp/

 Now we know that George did not mysteriously die around 1799. Had he gone east to Kingston or Montreal? To the Western District? South to the U.S.? Where will he show up next?—there has to be a next time!

[1] Ontario Land Records Index, Listing by Surname, George Porter, location ticket lot 5 concession 3 York Township, 1795; Archives of Ontario (AO) fiche sheet 39.

[2] Index to Ontario Land Patents 1790-1912, Vol. 1, folio 82, grantee George Porter, issued to Parshall Terry 2 August 1803; AO microfilm MS 1, reel 6.

[3] York Township Papers, Lot 5 Concession 3; AO microfilm MS 658 reel 534.

[4] Christine Mosser, ed., York, Upper Canada, Minutes of Town Meetings and Lists of Inhabitants, 1797-1823 (Toronto: Metropolitan Toronto Library Board, 1984), 13; George Porter, three males and two females, 1799.

[5] York Township Abstract Index to Deeds, Lot 5 Concession 3 from the Bay; AO microfilm GS 6443.

[6] Old York County Copybook of Deeds, Vol. 3 (1801-1806), no. 647, Porter to Terry; AO microfilm GS 5906.

[7] W.T. Ashbridge, The Ashbridge Book: relating to past and present Ashbridge families in America (Toronto: The Copp, Clark Company limited, 1912), digital image, Open Library (http://openlibrary.org/books/OL19342016M/The_Ashbridge_book : accessed 19 February 2013), 87. The Heron-Ashbridge marriage 14 December 1794 was recorded in an Ashbridge family Bible and thus was not a source for George Porter's marriage. George's first child was born in York, May 1794, according to unconfirmed sources.

[8] "Samuel Heron," Dictionary of Canadian Biography (http://www.biographi.ca/009004-119.01-e.php?&id_nbr=2459 : accessed 18 February 2013).

[9] Edith G. Firth, ed., The Town of York, 1793-1815 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1962), 186. 

© 2013 Brenda Dougall Merriman

CAMELOGUE

Now available. 

CAMELOGUE is a photographic chronicle of chasing camels in Arabic countries encumbered only by gender, age, opportunity, and gentle delusions of worldly insight. Yearning for an exotic break from your computer screen? Remember books? 

Now you too can impersonate a globe-trotter without the sunscreen and sand in your toes. Read about cool rides in warm climates. Mildly thrilling adventures guaranteed not to spike your blood pressure or pacemaker. Family-friendly, educational material ... if they can handle an occasional sarcastic edge :-) Highly recommended for animal lovers. Cribbed and revised from numerous past and future blog posts and my travel journals—Morocco, Tunisia, Egypt, Jordan. Not an e-book. No royalties. 

Brought to you by in living colour if you buy online from the print-on-demand geniuses at ShopMyBook: 
http://www.shopmybook.com/en/Brenda-Dougall-Merriman/CAMELOGUE (“Travel” category). 89 whole pages. For about the same price as a bucket of KFC and less fattening.

No more excuses to avoid my family history.

"The Men"

How often do any of us read "academic" articles to supplement our family histories? It's hardly the first thing on our minds after we have a genealogical skeleton in place. After seeking (hopefully all) the available original sources, we go for the local and community histories, newspaper items, church histories, biographies of contemporaries, and other such published or compiled works. They are necessary to illuminate past context, and many even provide clues to individual names.

Last year I posed a question in a blog post and to Facebook friends regarding the “qualifications” of a turn-of-the-(19th)-century Presbyterian preacher. To elaborate, how credible is it that an illiterate man would know the Bible, would have the ability to exhort and inspire his community, and be acknowledged as a spiritual leader? The few respondents agreed the likelihood was plausible. None of us had what you’d call supporting evidence.

The individual behind my question was “Preacher” John Cameron (ca.1761-ca.1852) who lived in the seigniory of Argenteuil, Quebec, in the early 1800s. We think his birthplace was the Lochaber district of Scotland, likely Kilmallie (spelling varies) parish which covers a greal deal of the area. References to his avocation come only from derivative sources.[1] While his identity is not firmly attached to the John Cameron with eight known children, he seems to have no other “rival” of the same name and timing.[2] The man is documented several times as illiterate.[3]

Well ... first we remember that many, many common people in that time period were illiterate. Secondly, the Scots I speak of were generally unilingual; their language was Gaelic. Thirdly, ordained ministers usually did not arrive to reside in a pioneer new-world community until well after it was established. Presbyterians transplanted from Highland parishes where church practice was a strong element in their lives would naturally have a desire for any kind of continuity in the early years of settlement. So yes, the Preacher Cameron scenario seemed fairly plausible to me as well. But still, I wondered, how would such a man—even one gifted with oral skills—acquire his learning? Indeed, the necessary body of knowledge?

Reaching beyond the customary bevy of derivative sources when composing family narratives involves supplementary historical research. Typically, education in the Highlands--when this John Cameron was growing up and in early manhood (1760s and 1770s)--was largely dependent on the availability of teachers sponsored by the Scottish Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge (SSPCK). Their original attempts at schooling in English were greeted with general apathy. Translation of the New Testament into Gaelic (1767) meant it often served as the mainstay “textbook” in isolated parishes.

“A large number of the works by seventeenth century Puritan divines were also translated into Gaelic. For many years these were the only Gaelic literature in print, but as the majority were unable to read, it was the influence these books had on the preachers that was to be important. Amongst a non-literate people who were highly sensitive to poetry and oratory, the influence of preaching cannot be overestimated ....”.[4]

In 1791-92 the report of Mr. Alexander Fraser, by then the established minister for Kilmallie, gives minimal information about schooling.[5] The report was a generation following that of John Cameron’s youth, noting a parochial school in the town of Maryburgh (Fort William): “Here, the languages and mathematics are taught.”[6] Five SSPCK schools were within the extensive, rugged parish without mention of exactly where. And Kilmallie shared a catechist with neighbouring Kilmonivaig. Church and bible were the overriding influence on education.

More enlightenment! A Gaelic scholar in a publication I would never have thought of consulting opened a whole new understanding.[7] Thank goodness this particular article was in English! Her subject is the sacramaid (a five-day outdoor gathering for communion service), and in particular the ceist (dedicated to “self-examination, scriptural inquiry and commentary led by highly-esteemed biblical savants”). The ceist occurred on day two of the gathering, a Friday, a time when clergy and laymen alike would discuss a chosen passage of scripture. (You will recognize the evangelical “model” for later open-air revival meetings of other denominations.) By custom, well-spoken, godly laymen or elders predominated on this day and became known as “The Men” (na Doine).

The sacramaid tradition in the Highlands and Islands was a yearly highlight that included reunions for extended family and youthful courtship, but above all, religious enrichment. The Men became a great salutary influence, revered for their piety and testimonial preaching. Some would travel from one communion to another to lead prayers and the ceist. In fact, in Scotland, their dominance of “Friday Fellowship” meetings began to exclude clergy to the umbrage of the eighteenth-century church establishment. That coincides with Preacher John Cameron’s time in Scotland.

“Few were educated, and many of them could not read. Still, they were celebrated for their godliness, their oratorical gifts and their deep personal familiarity with the workings of grace.”[8] 

Who can argue that Preacher John Cameron was not of that ilk?

My post scarcely touches on the impact of the highly anticipated annual event—and of The Men—on the psyche of Highland Presbyterian adherents. As Stanley-Blackwell relates, the tradition migrated to and thrived in Cape Breton. Apparently immigrant Scots in Quebec’s Ottawa Valley did not plant similarly deep roots of Gaelic language and custom beyond a generation or so. Evidence of such gatherings in Quebec regions eludes me. Genealogists can guess at some influences that made the difference in the two nineteenth-century immigrant areas, but it’s really the domain of history scholars—worth the extra mile to seek out their works.  

Sources could be journals of historical societies, university departments, and learned societies. Doctoral theses and dissertations can be consulted, many online, by visiting individual university websites; look for those with history departments relevant to your region of interest. Footnotes and bibliographies also provide additional in-depth reading. 

My thanks to Nicholas Maclean Bristol for the tip. Coincidentally, Michael Hait of Planting the Seeds led me to Kassie Nelson’s Cedar Tree Genealogy blog where she aptly muses on the perspective-widening benefits of studying historiography.

[1] Rev. Dr. Paterson, “The Presbyterian Church, St. Andrews,” History of the Counties of Argenteuil, Quebec and Prescott, Ontario, Cyrus Thomas, compiler ( ), 104-107. Cameron descendants also preserve the story.  

[2] Cour supérieure, District judiciaire de Terrebonne, Répertoire du notaire Michel-Gaspard Thibaudière de LaRonde (Saint-André Avellin, Québec), document no. 3211, will of John Cameron, 20 September 1836; Bibliothèque et Archives nationales du Quebec (BAnQ) at Montreal, CN606, S5.

[3] “Quebec Vital and Church Records, 1621-1967 (Drouin Collection), digital image, Ancestry.ca (www.ancestry.ca : accessed 5 March 2012), baptism Allan Cameron, 30 October 1807: “parents don't write”; citing St. Gabriel Street Presbyterian Church (Montreal, Quebec).

Cour supérieure, District judiciaire de Terrebonne, Répertoire du notaire Michel-Gaspard Thibaudière de LaRonde (Saint-André Avellin, Québec), document no. 3211, will of John Cameron, 20 September 1836: “... said Testator having persisted therein had made his mark having declared that he could not write his name”; BAnQ Montreal, CN606, S5.

District of Montreal, County of Two Mountains, notaries J.Geo. Lebel and F.H. Leclair of St. Hermas, document no. 944, donation inter vivos, John Cameron to sons Angus and Alexander, 20 January 1845: “The donees have signed and the donor declared that he could not write.” A transcription of the notarial document was provided by third-party Cameron researchers—the citation is incomplete until they provide details or unless I can see the original documents. 

[4] Nicholas Maclean Bristol, Hebridean Decade: Mull, Coll and Tiree 1761-1770 (Coll, Scotland: The Society of West Highland and Island Historical Research, 1982), 11.

[5] “Kilmalie, County of Inverness, Account of 1791-1799,” digital images, The Statistical Accounts of Scotland 1791-1845 (http://stat-acc-scot.edina.ac.uk/link/1791-99/Inverness/Kilmalie/ : accessed 8 February 2013), Vol. 8, no. XXIV, 407-447.

[6] Ibid., 434.

[7] Laurie Stanley-Blackwell, “God’s Ceilidh: Cape Breton’s Ceist Tradition,” Fifth Scottish Gaelic Research Conference, St. Francis Xavier University, Antigonish, Nova Scotia, July 21-24, 2008, Kenneth E. Nilsen, ed. (Sydney, NS: Cape Breton University Press, 2010), 238-252.

[8] Ibid., 241.

Confession

Time to come out of the closet. If anyone noticed, the posts on this blog have fallen short lately. Chalk it up to post-Christmas fatigue, but my preferred cause for this unseemly lapse is post-travel euphoria. Oh, but let's not omit the blockage on my family history du jour, or the uncharacteristic faintness at contemplating more research.

You see, I am not only a genealogist. I am a writer. I have been a writer since I almost lost my identity while raising a family. Or maybe since I struggled mightily through that university paper on "De Esse et Essentia." Or maybe before that when I was appointed editor of the Balmoral Hall yearbook, to become the slave of a merciless headmistress, unwittingly beholden to write half the material.

Genealogy does have a creative side in some aspects, but in many (most?) other ways it demands methodical discipline in evaluation, analysis, logic, and structure. That's the part of my head on temporary vacation.

The point is (I'm getting there) I write about other things and for the moment the creative juice drips in that direction---to ruin what could have been a promising metaphor. What other things? Well, the blog I began trepidly some time ago at http://anotherfamdamily.blogspot.com: Nonsense - Nostalgia - Satire - Camels.

It's taken about that amount of time to fix what it is about. Since my family stubbornly fails me as the ripe source of satire I hoped for, I almost lost sight of my own simmering environment. Let me say the Inmates Committee and the Neighbourdamhood present near-perfect windfalls of lunacy. The blog is also a tracker for the mystery/crime/detective/courtroom novels I devour. That was necessary so I don't order/borrow books I've already read, much like I've been known to buy the same book twice (several years intervening, you understand). Once in a while it features thought-provoking pieces on shopping bags, earnest diet advisories, don't leave home in your nightgown, and what have you.   

And CAMELS (continued on from this blog as of May 2012). Not the full gist of my travel journals, just the best parts. In my biased opinion.

Self-promotion is uncomfortable and distasteful for an introvert. Promoting the family histories I published with the print-on-demand company ShopMyBook (formerly UniBook.com) was fairly non-existent. OK, there's a link above to "My Books." However, encouraged by Facebook friends who do it to good effect, I'm declaring open season on anotherfamdamily.

Disclaimer: I do not post photos of kittens or human babies or last night's dinner on my blog or on Facebook. Hardly ever.

Image: Fifteenth-century drawing from Robert Irwin's Camel.

© Brenda Dougall Merriman

Familiar Faces

For years this group photograph has puzzled me. A family reunion, surely. Some of the faces, particularly children, looked so familiar it was like recognizing family faces today. But who were they? No notations on the back. Was it a group of McFadyens in Cape Breton? Dougalls in Manitoba? Frasers in Quebec would be dark horses. I go around in circles.

Whichever family it might be, I wasted a lot of time straining to identify my father as a toddler, thinking it could be the 1890s. Is he the little guy who made a blurry move when the dog nuzzled him? I am hardly astute enough to identify what kind of trees or terrain they chose for the commemoration.

As for dating, likewise I'm no costume expert but a little research helps (or not). The ladies' hats, the extravagant brims (on most of them), and their dress in general might suggest the Edwardian era prior to the First World War. If so, I then reasoned, chances were my Dad was in there as a bigger lad. The only one he could remotely be is the young fellow at the back left. Good gawd, is that a cigar in his mouth? His height and appearance would make the photo on the eve of the War.

  

One suspects that those seated have some precedence in the arrangement. Eventually I concentrated on the patriarchal figure in the middle. (My grip on the Paint Program needs work.) He has an unidentifiable child on his lap. His cheekbones remind me of numerous Dougalls. And yet, if he is Peter Dougall (1824-1914), evidence shows he became thinner and more gaunt in old age.

Is he the same man as these? --

  

... both identified as Peter Dougall.

I have no photos of John McFadyen (ca.1837-1915) for comparison, except a grainy newspaper image published with his obituary.

Then there's the wife. Both men would have had living wives. The hatless woman seated to his right does not seem to be Catharine Fraser, Peter Dougall's family-described "diminutive" wife. So how about the tiny woman in black with the bemused expression seated to the left of hatless? My first impression was that she seems much older than anyone, wearing widow's weeds. Is that a cross on her bosom? Did Presbyterians wear crosses? Is she Catharine's mother Nancy Fraser? But Nancy died in Renfrew in 1895! Is it Peter's mother? No, she died in Montreal in 1878! Or ... how old is this picture anyway?!

If the patriarch is John McFadyen, his wife Isabella Campbell is another who left no photographic traces. I am throwing McFadyen scenarios in to demonstrate an (almost) open mind but am about to abandon it. Even as I write, I am switching back and forth between family photos. The woman seated two places to the patriarch's left with the collar bow closely resembles Peter Dougall's daughter Annie Elizabeth Hemenway. Annie married in 1884.

I'm also thinking the two women flanking widow's weeds have a certain resemblance. Peter had four daughters. Are they and his wife the seated figures closest to him? My original dating theory may be way out of whack.

Well, if they are Dougalls, I can't find my grandfather William (1854-1934) based on his old age portrait. More vexation. Unless he's the handsome guy with the cheroot. Would you say the woman in front of him is wearing glasses? William's wife Jessie is the only ancestor I've seen who wore glasses in her portraits. They were married in 1894. Maybe my Dad's merely the proverbial twinkle in someone's eye.

Peter Dougall also had five sons. Certainly there are many spouses included here to confuse the issues of who's male family and who's an in-law. Not to forget the fun-loving spinsters and bachelors---I'm sure they are the ones who dared to smile and laugh on a sedate occasion. Peter and Catharine retired from their lifelong home in Renfrew, Ontario, to Winnipeg, Manitoba in 1905. Either place could be the setting for the photograph. And probably much earlier than my previous guessing.

Such a unique treasure to have. If only I could sort it out. Have you run into a similar problem?  

McFadyens Part 15: Black Sheep Hector

Large chunks in the life of this man--sibling of a direct ancestor--are still missing. Mysteries abound. For the lucky, newspapers provide clues or even fill some biographical holes. Newspaper items can remind us our ancestors were human and faulty just as we are. Perhaps we can relate to long-past transgressions and crimes because of the news we are immersed in today. Aside from the event itself, in some cases we might learn how the community responded, an insight to social sensibilities. Dealing with something a couple of generations ago, we have distance from the contemporary emotional consequences and pain.

Hector McFadyen was born 28 December 1869 in Provincetown, Massachusetts, the son of John McFadyen and his wife Isabella Campbell, both natives of Cape Breton.[1] Hector's parents had married in the same town in January of that year.[2] What were two Capers doing far south of their home province? The family story is that the couple had sailed to "the Boston States" to sell their boat and make a stake to buy land in Canada's Northwest. John planned to change his occupation from seafarer to farmer.

Hector was a child when they arrived in Oakbank, Manitoba (also known as Sunnyside, and later Springfield), where his father duly staked his homestead claim in 1874 to a quarter section (160 acres) of prairie land.[3] More pieces of property were acquired as the family grew. The oldest of ten children, Hector probably learned farming at an early age. He appears to be the single man, age 31, a sole head of household at Springfield in 1901, where he was farming not far from his parents.[4]

The next thing we know of Hector is his marriage on 6 August 1909 to Katherine Grace Polley, born in Ontario to New Hampshire natives Albert M. Polley and Flora Fuller.[5] In British Columbia! By this time Hector was almost forty years old. Whether he had moved to BC or was visiting or engaged in farm business, we simply don't know.

Grace's family provides a clue for the distant encounter. Her father Albert Polley was quite an entrepreneur in mail and passenger stage service to northern Ontario towns from his base in Goderich.

Goderich historical town square; destroyed by tornado, 2011. Photo mbsportsweb.ca

 But Albert's love of horses was paramount.[6] He bred and trained them in his stables and racetrack near the town and expanded to horse markets in Pennsylvania and British Columbia. Probably through his connections along the way---did his daughter travel with him?---Grace met a fellow horse lover called Hector McFadyen.

Hector has not yet been located in the 1911 census two years after his marriage. His wife Grace McFadden was then living with her parents on North Street in Goderich, Ontario.[7]

Our intermittent chronology now skips ahead to 1921 when widower Albert Polley died.[8] Grace inherited $986.00 from him while her single sister Charlotte was given the North Street house.[9] At about 11 p.m. on the last day of February 1923, smoke came pouring out of H. McFadyen's Grocery Store on the corner of North Street and the Square in Goderich.[10] (It seems Hector had relocated to his wife's home town and established a different kind of business.) Firemen were prompt and reported next day that losses were not heavy but the living quarters above the store, inhabited by Misses Elliott, were damaged. A short circuit in basement wiring was the suspected cause.

Hector McFadyen disappeared at the same time.  

A few days later, March 6th, this notice was inserted in a Winnipeg newspaper, appealing for information of his whereabouts.[11] He was described as a "railroad construction man" and thought to be in western Canada. To the point, the notice said his wife Grace was "ill and entirely without money and urges him to write to her." An address was given to contact Grace in Toledo, Ohio. Two of Hector's sisters in Winnipeg composed the notice, likely after being contacted by Grace or someone on her behalf.

A second newspaper notice with more desperate overtones was published on March 7th; apparently from Grace herself:

"Your wife is ill and absolutely without money, do not be afraid to write. I have legal advice the police cannot hold you for fire. My furniture is held for heat and light.Mrs Grace McFadyen, [address withheld], Toledo, Ohio."[12]

Oh, the questions! Was Hector to blame for the fire? I suppose he scooted out of Ontario on a train. Certainly the families were communicating between Ohio and Manitoba. But why was Grace living in Toledo? Had she and Hector actually lived together in Goderich for some time?

March 22nd: Grace died in Toledo at the home of her sister, Mrs. W.B. (Helen) Major.[13] Her remains were shipped to Goderich for burial with her parents in Maitland Cemetery; her name on the stone is Grace P. McFadyen.[14] The local death notice does not mention her husband. Ironically, on the day she died, the same newspaper published her petition to initiate bankruptcy proceedings.

Hector's life after 1923 is yet another blank, with only a few clues on his death record. He died 18 November 1944 in Kamloops, BC; the informant was a man who lived at the same residence.[15] Hector had lived there less than two months before his death. Described as "contractor," his former address was Haney, BC, a small place east of Vancouver on the CPR railway line. Typical of families dealing with a black sheep, the McFadyens generally suppressed speaking of him to younger generations and Hector's full story was lost.

The value of newspapers in family history research can never be overestimated. They can help develop the three-dimensional ancestor. Let's applaud all who digitize newspapers and those who make them searchable!

© 2013 Brenda Dougall Merriman

[1] Massachusetts Births, Vol. 214 (Provincetown), p. 18, birth male McFadden, 28 December 1869; as transcribed and sent to me by Cheryl McIntosh, 8 February 2006.

[2] Massachusetts Marriages, Vol. 17 (Provincetown), p. 15, McFadyen-Campbell marriage, 13 January 1869; as transcribed and sent to me by Cheryl McIntosh, 8 February 2006.

[3] Manitoba homestead grant no. 2353, NW Quarter, Section 15, Township 11, Range 5 East of the Principal Meridian, patent deed 3 May 1878. These grants can now be searched in Library and Archives Canada's (LAC) "Western Land Grants" database, http://www.collectionscanada.gc.ca/databases/western-land-grants/001007-100.01-e.php.

[4] "1901 Census of Canada," transcription, Automated Genealogy (http://automatedgenealogy.com : accessed 23 February 2009): Manitoba, District 11, Selkirk, subdistrict Springfield, division K-2, p. 4, Hector McFadyen; citing LAC microfilm T-6435. Census indexing at the time on Ancestry.ca and FamilySearch.org was problematic for finding any of this family.

[5] "Vital Events - Marriages," database, British Columbia Archives (http://searchbcarchives.gov.bc.ca/ : accessed 18 July 2009), Mcfadyen-Polley marriage, no. 1909-09-120737; citing BC Archives microfilm B11382.

[6] "Obituary - Polley," The Signal (Goderich, Ontario), 20 January 1921.

[7] "1911 Census of Canada," digital image, Ancestry.ca (www.ancestry.ca : accessed 18 July 2009), Ontario, District 83, Huron West, subdistrict 3, enumeration district 5, Town of Goderich, p. 29, Albert Polley household; citing LAC microfilm T-20378.

[8] "Ontario, Canada, Deaths, 1869-1934," digital image, Ancestry.ca (www.ancestry.ca : accessed 19 July 2009), Albert M. Polley, death registration no. 016382 (1921); citing Archives of Ontario (AO) microfilm MS 935.

[9] Huron County, Ontario, Surrogate Court file no. 8890, Albert M. Polley; AO microfilm MS 887 reel 800.

[10] The Huron Star (Goderich, Ontario), 1 March 1921.

[11] "Information Wanted of Hector McFadyen," Manitoba Free Press (Winnipeg, Manitoba), 6 March 1923.

[12] "Hector McFadyen," Winnipeg Free Press (Winnipeg, Manitoba), 7 March 1923.

[13] "Ohio Deaths, 1908-1953," database, FamilySearch (www.familysearch.org : accessed 24 February 2009), Grace McFadyen 1923. Interestingly--unhappily--the entry cannot currently be found.

[14] "Obituary - McFayden," The Goderich Star, 29 March 1923.

[15] Hector McFadyen, British Columbia death registration no. 1944-09-651920; BC Archives microfilm B13184.