St Andrews Church in Toronto

St Andrew's Presbyterian Church in Toronto was established in 1876 as a Scottish kirk building in Canada, though the congregation had already existed from 1830. From the church's official website at www.standrewstoronto.org/church_info.htm comes the following snippet from its history:

The present building was opened for worship in 1876. At that time the King and Simcoe Streets location was a busy place and most of the congregation lived within easy walking distance of the church. Across the street stood Government House, the official residence of the Lieutenant Governor of Ontario. Upper Canada College stood on a second corner and on a third was a popular tavern. With St. Andrew's, the four corners were known locally as Legislation, Education, Damnation and Salvation!!

It is worth knowing if you have Canadian Presbyterian roots that many congregations of the church merged with the Methodists and the Congregationalists in 1925 to form the United Church of Canada - there is more on this aspect of Canadian church history at www.united-church.ca/history/overview/brief. Both the Presbyterian and United Church denominations have separate archive collections. For more information on these in Toronto contact the Toronto Branch of the Ontario Genealogical Society at www.torontofamilyhistory.org.

I managed to make a quick visit to the church on Monday of this week, and the following are a few snaps!

With thanks to Dave Fenwick for taking me there! :)

Chris

Balancing the books

Ever wondered what our ancestors earned? The following is an example of an agricultural labourer's income and expenditure, as recorded in the First Statistical Account for Auchterarder in Perthshire, 1790s. The family consists of a husband and wife, and seven children:

INCOME

Man - 1s. per day for 8 months, and 8d for remainder........£13 17 0

Mother and eldest girl by spinning, 1s 6d per week.............£3 18 0

Eldest boy herding cattle.......................................................£0 18 0

Produce of his acre of ground-

6 firlots of oats, at 13s 6d.....................................................£1 0 3

4 bolls of barley, at 14s.........................................................£2 16 0

6 bolls of potatoes, at 6s 6d..................................................£1 6 0

Sold a calf..............................................................................£0 7 0

TOTAL INCOME..................................................................£24 2s 3d

EXPENDITURE

Rent of house and land, seed & management....................£4 5 0

Cow's grass in summer, 10s; straw in winter 6s................£0 16 0

Fuel, £1 5s; 8 lbs soap, 4s 8d................................................£1 9 8

8 1/2 bolls of oatmeal............................................................£6 3 3

4 bolls of barley meal............................................................£1 17 4

Butcher meat, 18s; 4 pks salt 3s 4d....................................£1 1 4

3 pints lamp oil, 3s 6d; candles 2s 2d..................................£0 5 8

2 stones cheese (cow yielded milk and butter).....................£0 8 0

Molasses for beer, 4s 6d; groats & barley 7s.......................£0 11 6

Potatoes produced and consumed.......................................£1 6 0

Whisky, small beer, & wheaten bread at New Year.............£0 3 4

Needles, pins, and thread.....................................................£0 0 10

Expenses in sickness.............................................................£0 15 0

Father's clothes 10s; 2 shirts, 7s; shoes 10s......................£1 7 0

2 pairs stockings 4s 6d; wear of bonnet & kerchief..............£0 5 6

Mother's clothes 4s; 1 shift, 2s 6d; 2 aprons 2s 3d...............£0 8 9

Shoes and stockings 4s; kerchief, cap, etc 3s.....................£0 7 0

Pair of shoes to each of 7 children........................................£0 14 2

Clothes to 3 youngest, 9s; to 2 next 8s; to 2 eldest 10s......£1 7 0

Shirts to youngest 2s; to 2 next 2s 6d; to 2 eldest 3s 4d.....£0 7 10

TOTAL EXPENDITURE........................................................£24 0s 2d

The Statistical Accounts of Scotland from the 1790s and 1830s/40s provide all sorts of useful information on the environments where our ancestors lived, and can be viewed freely at http://stat-acc-scot.edina.ac.uk/sas/sas.asp?action=public&passback=

Chris

Tears for Sarah Jane

Elisabeth Sladen has sadly passed away. As a wee boy, I was fascinated by the TV series Doctor Who, so much so that it actually led me into a career in television. Every week I would read Doctor Who Monthly and the interviews with actors, actresses, directors, producers, writers, costume designers and more. What I thought was a magazine about a science fiction series in fact turned out to be my first manual in television production! The day I received my first BBC contract was one of the proudest days of my life - and the fact that Valerie, the production assistant in my first office had just worked on the series was as close to the magic of the series as I ever got, with my interest then veering into documentary rather than drama.

But what lured me to the series in the first place? It was three things - Tom Baker, the TARDIS, and Elisabeth Sladen. A Time Lord, a time machine that could take me to any time and place, and my first ever crush! As Sarah Jane Smith, Lis Sladen brought a real spark to what had previously been the role of the screaming assistant, with real attitude. She was a journalist - forget bow ties, journalists were cool! Now many years later I sit and watch the new version of the series with my own sons, but also had the pleasure to see Lis Sladen's acting career resurrected when they created a special series for her, The Sarah Jane Adventures, allowing my boys to equally find a hero in Sarah Jane Smith also.

I left the Beeb a few years back. Now as a family historian I travel to all sorts of times and places, and as a writer get to record my exploits through various avenues. Journalism and time travel, a wonderful mix - but I never got to travel with the Doctor!

To quote Jon Pertwee from his last ever story in Doctor Who in 1973 - "A tear Sarah Jane?" Many tears Lis Sladen - thank you for being as much a part of my childhood as you were of my children's.

Chris

Recording Sandy on the 1911 census

The following wee gem of a story was published in the Glasgow Herald on April 3rd 1911 (p.9), the day after the recording of the decennial census. I have no idea who the author was, other than the initials R. K. R. at the bottom, but thought it worth sharing! You can find the original online at http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=GGgVawPscysC&dat=19110403&printsec=frontpage&hl=en

THE SCHEDULE

The Child studied the census paper attentively for a moment, wrinkling her brows over it.
"What an awful lot of writing there is on it. And on all the back of it too, " she added, turning the sheet over.
"Yes, isn't there?"
"Have you read all the writing on the back?"
"Well, perhaps not every word."
"Why have you not read every word?"
"Well, you see, it's Sunday, and it's not right to work too hard on Sunday."
"Who makes you do it on Sunday?"
"Who makes you do it on Sunday? I suppose it must be Mr J. Patten Macdougall, Registrar-General. You'll see his name on the back."
The Child checked this statement carefully.
"Wasn't it kind of Mr Macdougall to send you all this writing?"
"It was indeed. He is goodness itself."
"Does he send them to many people?"
"Yes. A good many."
"Will Amy Douglas's father get one?"
"Yes."
"Ad Mrs McClintock the washerwoman?"
"I think so."
"And will she have to write down all her children?" (Breathlessly) "She has ten-living-and-two-dead."
"Yes. Every one. What did you say cook's name was?"
"Just cook or Margaret. What a lot of numbers all down the side. 1, 2 , 3, 4, 5-10-17, 18, 19, 20. Are these for putting children in?"
"Yes, children and people."
"What would you do if you had more than twenty children?"
"I would whip them all soundly and put them to bed."
"No, but really and truly?"
"I would have to get another paper from Mr. J. Patten McDougall."
The Child studied some entries on the paper. Then she laughed.
"You're a silly to put mother 32. Mother has always been 21, ever since she was married."
"Of course. I must correct that."
"And you've missed Sandy out altogether."
"Tut-tut. We mustn't miss out Sandy. You'll help me to write him down."
"Of course I'll help you. Write Sandy Rutherford."
"No middle name?"
"Sandy Woggins Rutherford."
"Right. Alexander W. Rutherford. What next?"
"Dog."
"I'm afraid that wouldn't do. It must be Head, or Wife, or Son, or Daughter, Relative, Visitor, Boarder, or Servant. He's more than a visitor."
"Of course he is. He's my own always doggie."
"Well, we'll call him a Boarder. So that's all right. Age - three last birthday." Gaelic and English - "Both I should think. Particulars as to Marriage - Single."
"Yes, he's my own single dog." (Looking closely at the paper.) "Per-son-al Occ-u-p-a-t-i-o-n. What does that mean?"
"It means what does he do for a living?"
"He barks a good deal!" the Child said, doubtfully. And he eats a lot of bones - and watches the house."
"Good. We'll put him down as night watchman."
"Of course," said the Child impartially, "he's really and truly asleep at night."
"We needn't tell anybody that. Then he's a Worker, isn't he? Worker at Home will be right. Birthplace?"
"Island of Skye," said the Child promptly. "What is this last thing, Infir-mitty?"
"That means any weakness he has."
"Mother says he has a weakness for butter."
"That'll do then. Infirmity. Steals the butter. That finishes Sandy."
"Couldn't we put my own dear Dicky-Bird in?"
"I'm afraid not. Mr J. Patten Macdougall mightn't like it. He may not care about canaries."
"I am sure he would love my canary, if he knew it. But it won't mind if you don't put its name in as much as Sandy would."
"No, and you don't need to tell it. Are you going to tell Sandy?"
"Tell Sandy! Sandy knows already. He's been watching us all the time."

R. K. R.


The moral of the story - is everyone that you find on the census quite who you think they are?!!!

Chris

The Troubles and the Lovely Ladies of Kragfergus

I'm just back in Scotland after a two day visit to Northern Ireland. I was born in the Province in 1970, although with my father in the navy it was not until I was 8 years old that I actually went to live in the country, having left when just a couple of days old to reside in Helensburgh and then Plymouth. This week was my first visit back home in seven years, but although my main reason for going was to see the new PRONI building and to do some research in some Belfast cemeteries, I managed to get in a couple of hours research at the library in my home town of Carrickfergus.

I decided to look through some old editions of the weekly newspaper, the Carrick Advertiser, from 1980-1982, really to see if I could find any stories concerning my family. I successfully located an image of myself and my brother in a primary school choir, and several of an aunt winning golf tournaments.

There was one discovery that really came as a surprise though. I'm sure everyone is aware that Northern Ireland spent 30 years going through the Troubles. In 1979, when I moved back to Carrick, I had no idea about the Troubles, I was a kid who had grown up in Britain - I had no idea my family were all Protestants, as I had no idea what the word actually meant - I'd never heard it before. We returned to Carrick after my parents separated, and after the death of my gran. My father inherited her house in a part of the town called Joymount - it had only one tap in the house with cold water (hot water had to be boiled in a big pot on the gas cooker!), no bathroom, no washing machine (we had to use the sink and then a mangle!) and an outside toilet, and we stayed there for two years.

One night, aged 11, I remember suddenly waking up in my bedroom in the middle of the night and going to the window to peak outside. There was a car park outside about fifty yards away, facing the library, and around a car was the British Army. Not all of them mind - it was the bomb squad. I watched absolutely fascinated as a small robot was driven over to the car from where the soldiers were deployed, with police cars nearby with blue globes flashing, all an extraordinary sight for an 11 year old kid half-asleep! My dad came in and told me to get back into bed; he may have possibly even moved us into a back room, I can't remember.

Yesterday I came across a newspaper article about this very incident. The car, it transpired, was a Ford Cortina, and had been hijacked at the Royal Victoria Hospital in Belfast a month before. It had suddenly been spotted in this Carrick car park, and being suspiciously parked the standard response was to get the army out to perform a controlled explosion on it, in case it was actually carrying a bomb. It only occurred to me yesterday whilst reading the piece that nobody actually knocked on our door to tell us that there might be an IRA bomb just fifty yards from the house! The whole operation lasted 3 hours and 20 minutes, all over by 5am. The article also showed a picture illustrating what happens when you park a car badly...

The Troubles did occasionally hit Carrickfergus when I was there. The papers ran the occasional funeral report of an RUC (police) officer from the town being killed in another part of the Province, but nothing else ever really seemed to happen if you believed the press. The papers were instead more filled with ridiculous bickering between the borough's politicians, often on thinly veiled sectarian or class based issues. They were also extremely sexist! Lots of "Lovely Lady of Kragfergus" competitions, women posing in football tops when the boys were going off to play, and more. And religion. My God, if ever a place was contaminated by self-opinionated men of the cloth, it was Carrickfergus! One minister wrote often in the paper to basically tell us how evil we all were - he actually carried out my Gran's funeral ten years ago and spent 5 minutes telling us who she was (getting just about every detail wrong) and then an hour telling us why we were all sinners and needing to repent! And so on.

Whilst the national press would have of course focussed on a Troubles based story every day, in a local paper like the Carrick Ad, you got a different image. A tiny, quiet wee community just 9 miles from Belfast, more worried about their version of God than they were the paramilitaries, where nothing ever really happened. Lovely Lady competitions and bonnie babies.

And yet things did happen. I remember one time, for example, of not being able to get into the railway station shop, to pick up newspapers for my paper round, because somebody had been shot in the loyalist pub next door. Then there's the story of an ex-loyalist in the town. He had apparently served time for making the fundamental error from the loyalist POV of blowing up the British Legion by mistake (not sure if he ever claimed his Darwin Award!). Another loyalist who did time in the Maze, and who learned Gaelic to try to understand the communications of IRA men - and who subsequently fell in love with the language. And so on.

The point is that it is great to flesh out the context of our ancestors' lives from contemporary resources, but those resources, such as local newspapers, will never tell the whole story, despite being right on the doorstep. To address this, over the last few years I have actually been writing up an account of my childhood for my sons, painting a picture of the Carrickfergus where I grew up, the issues that affected my family (and not those of the middle class God-fearing "dressed in their Sunday best" elite in the town), and what made us tick.

My story of Carrickfergus is the story of being raised in a single parent family. Where everyone knew somebody involved in the Troubles but always turned the other cheek to look away. Where despite patronising ministers and unambitious politicians who only understood the word "Never" there were also some real heroes - the summer scheme volunteers at the Leisure Centre, acting as surrogate parents for a few hours every day in our long summer holidays; Paddy Lennox and his boxing club, designed to get boys off the streets and to give them something to think about other than orange or green; the strikers at Kilroot and the workers of Courtaulds fighting to save their living; and the true heroes like Sean Neeson, a politician and family friend of real conviction who eventually rose to great heights within his Alliance party. It's the story of the working harbour where Kane's fuels were delivered each week, and where you could climb the castle's rocks or go fishing without a permit at the pilot boat base at the end of the quay. A town where the neighbours always had an open door and a cup of sugar or milk you could borrow before your dad could buy some more once he had picked up his dole cheque down at the 'broo'.

The Carrickfergus I lived in has long gone, and walking around the place yesterday, a lot has changed and some things have remained the same. West Street is a ghost town, and my old housing estate of Castlemara is now infested with paramilitaries, with their pathetic paintings on each gable end wall from a culture imported from Belfast shortly after I left in 1991.

The only place where the Carrickfergus I grew up in now truly resides is in my memory - it will never return and that is why I am writing it all down now before it fades away.

Chris

Census Day 2011

Today is the day of the latest decennial census here in Scotland, and for the first time we have been able to supply our information online. We were also given a paper copy as an option, meaning that this time around we have had two possible ways to submit the required information. And that has allowed for a bit of fun in the Paton household!

I answered the census first on paper to make sure that I had all the details right for myself, my wife Claire and boys Calum and Jamie. An interesting question for me is "What is your ethnic group?" Crikey, what is my ethnic group?! The options were Scottish, Other British, Irish, Gypsy/Traveller, Polish, or Other. I'm from Northern Ireland's protestant community, though not religious in the slightest. Am I ethnically Scottish? My Ulster lot arrived from Scotland with the Plantations. Am I Irish? I was born on the island of Ireland, and have some southern Irish connections also. Am I Other British, being Northern Irish? As in not-Scottish, having been born in Ireland? You can't beat an identity crisis like those enjoyed by your average Ulsterman! lol I opted for ethnically Irish but put my national identity as both Scottish and Northern Irish (Tick all options that apply!).

With the written document complete, I then used the online website to submit the required details to the Scottish Government, the whole procedure taking just a few minutes more. With that completed, I received a receipt code to confirm that the Government had received the information required. So that then left me with a redundant paper copy! Now the census asked some seriously dreary questions, so I decided to get my boys and wife together, and to go through it and ask for some additional material, scribbling the extra information onto the pages also.

So now posterity will know that my eldest son's favourite bands are Queen and Bon Jovi; my youngest son's favourite book is "Star Wars: Clone Wars annual 2011"; and my wife speaks English very well, but has her own "Clairey words" that only she understands, and has a birthday celebrated only every four years!

Then the interrogation got much more in depth! So my eldest son's religion is accompanied with the note that he goes to church reluctantly, my youngest returned home on Census Day from a sleep over at his best friend's, and my wife's favourite quote comes from her father in Ireland, who once answered someone knocking on his front door with "Feck off, there's nobody home!"

I've still to ask myself some additionally probing questions, but hopefully anyone reading the paper version, if it survives for another hundred years, will know just what made us tick as a family, and not just what our contribution to the state's problems were! lol

Chris

Irish poor sent back home

As it's Saint Paddy's day, here's a wee gem that might be of interest for those with Irish ancestors who settled in Scotland and England.

It's often suggested that it is worth checking poor relief records for members of the Irish community who settled in Britain in the decades following the famine of the 1840s. In some cases, many were actually sent back to the poor law unions from whence they originated, if the money needed for that relief could not be reclaimed by the relevant poor law union handling the claim.

The British Parliamentary Papers contain accounts of some of these returns. I've not had a chance to go through the original returns myself, but a very nice man from Wishaw who goes by the name of Raymond has created Raymond's County Down website at www.raymondscountydownwebsite.com/html/index2.htm, and in this he has copied some of the records (perhaps all). The following collections can be browsed on his site:

* Return of all poor persons, removed from Scotland to Ireland Jan 1st 1867-Dec 31st 1869

* Return of poor from Scotland to Ireland, 1875/76/77/78

* Return of all poor persons removed from England & Wales to Ireland 1867/1869

* Return of poor persons, England & Wales since 1st Jan. 1875

The records are extremely detailed, often stating how long a person was resident in Britain, how many were in the household, their ages, and the parish to which they were returned in Ireland. They are laid out in county order, and then by parish and alphabetically by name.

Perhaps a member of your family was kicked out of Britain? If so, you may find them here. Free to access.

Hope it helps!

Chris