Sometimes I get a bit blah about finding family on Ancestry...I like the interesting people who died at the siege of Alnwick Castle or those who lived in tiny remote Scottish castles perched on the very edges of steep cliffs...their unpronounceable names inscribed on a visitors information board along with dire warnings about cliff fall and disturbing the nesting sea-birds...
Some have entered the history books because of the lives they led or the crimes they were accused of...poor Sir Peter Empson who fell afoul of Henry V111...found guilty of treason he met a terrible end. His sister Anne is a direct descendant of mine...oddly enough, Sir Peter is my step-daughters sixteenth great grand Uncle...we both thought that was incredible, that she and I are related...coincidence maybe or maybe not ,depending upon whether you are a believer in coincidences ...
Some of those far off Scots married Icelanders...and others married into the old Irish clans...their exploits are often seen as the work of imagination but some appear in the Annals...the battles they fought and lost or won...
I love the carefully written records from parishes noting who was Christened, Married and Died...the names crammed tightly together to make the best use of the parchment they'll occasionally include the man's occupation, Weaver of this Parish or Husbandman...I came across one set of records this afternoon where the curate had illustrated the letter A for April with fancy curlicues and what looks much like a butterfly...thought of him bent over the page in the year of 1609 with a minute or two to spare from his day, carefully ornating the letter then sprinkling sand over the ink to dry it quickly and stop it from smudging...
I wonder if a local outbreak of Cholera or Smallpox killed the six members of one family...one after the other they succumbed in the same month of the same year...then the husband re-married the following year to a widow with five children and she bore five more with him...I hope they were happy together and wonder if his remaining children were able to get along with hers...that particular family named two of their five children with the same names as those who'd died...macabre to us, but perfectly acceptable and normal in the early 1700's.
He too was a weaver of woollen cloth...I know that from finding a record of his time as a Churchwarden...
For every record available, there will be twenty more still held in dusty basements or old wooden chests in country vicarages...for each ancient fortified house or small castle I look up on the net, there'll be conflicting information as to who lived there and what became of them...
It isn't purely about dates and seeing how far back in time you can go...of course if you discover Sven of the Forked Beard was your Gt x 16 uncle that must be a feather in your cap...but for me it is the lives my people led...whether in a cottage in a small Yorkshire village with a weaving shed built on the gable end or a pauper who lived out their old age in a Workhouse...or a young man who rode into a battle long forgotten, terrified out of his wits with the screams of men and horses to fall dead by his enemies sword swipe...
From tiny windswept castles built on rocks to stout fortified homes where the occupants were heavily involved in smuggling good French Brandy...Mariners who sailed to and from the West coast of Africa and the Vet who spent his life researching the cause of Anthrax in Wildebeest...
All those tales waiting to be unearthed and told again.