In chart form, a family tree contains the briefest of information. It provides full names, date and place of birth/baptism and death, and date of marriage if applicable.
It also shows relationships within the family. That’s it. It’s like reading a telephone directory. Yes, you can brag that you’ve traced your family back to the 15th century, but aside from a name, what have you got?
That’s where creative digging comes in. You find the baptismal papers, marriage records, assorted censuses, and any other documents you can lay your hands on, and you piece them together to discover the person attached to the name.
Each new tidbit of information will send you digging somewhere else. A church record leads to a land deed, and a newspaper article to a will. You recognize your mother’s brooch in a photo of your husband’s great-grandmother, and a new connection is uncovered. Diaries and letters, school and service records all tell you something about the person. Study them hard enough and you’ll get a sense of who that person was.
John Enoch Burton was my great-great grandfather. He was born in Rattlesden, Suffolk, England in 1823. When he was 24, he married Sarah Ann Bradley, who was six years his junior. Based on the signatures on their marriage document, he could write, but she could not. Between 1848 and 1878, the two had twelve children together—seven boys and five girls. During his life, John Enoch worked as a labourer, a carpenter, and a stationary engineer (I had to look that one up. Though the job description has changed over time, it was a position that came into existence during the Industrial Revolution and involved looking after such equipment as pumping engines or lifts/hoists.) The Burton family changed residences a number of times, but they always stayed in Ipswich. John Enoch became a widower in 1907. Nothing too exciting here—certainly nothing to give me a feel for who my great-great grandfather was, beyond a reliable, hardworking family man.
And then I came across the last census he appeared in, as well as his death record. According to the 1911 census, John Enoch Burton, 88-years-old, a widower and retired carpenter, was a resident in a workhouse. He remained there until his death two years later.
My heart instantly broke, when I read that. How could he have come to his end in a workhouse? For those who don’t know, workhouses were horrible holding tanks for the poor, sick, homeless, and mentally and emotionally challenged. John Enoch Burton had fathered 12 children. Surely one of them would have taken him in — would have saved him from the horrors of such a place.
But they hadn’t. Why? Had he done something to alienate them? Had they all moved away? Or did they just not care? At the moment, I can only guess. So the search continues.
PS – Just a reminder that CRGS resumes its monthly meetings on Thursday, Sept. 8. The season’s first program will focus on genealogical finds members made over the summer.
The Campbell River Genealogy Society
Maritime Heritage Centre
