Showing posts with label Charlemagne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charlemagne. Show all posts

Saturday, November 23, 2024

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: Who Is the Earliest Ancestor in Your Paternal Tree?

Hmm, I need to figure out how to complete the exercise for tonight's Saturday Night Genealogy Fun challenge from Randy Seaver.

Come on, everybody, join in and accept the mission and execute it with precision.

1.  Today's challenge is to answer the question "Who Is the Earliest Ancestor in Your Paternal Tree?"

2.  Tell us about your earliest paternal ancestor in your family tree on your own blog post, in a comment here, or on your Facebook page.  Be sure to leave a link to your report in a comment on this post.

[Thank you to Linda Stufflebean for suggesting this topic!]

Okay, so I know who the earliest ancestor is in my paternal tree.  It's Peter Gaunt, the earliest Gaunt in Peter Gaunt 1610–1680 and Some of His Descendants by David L. Gauntt, published by the Gloucester County Historical Society.  (Even though I almost definitely also descend from Charlemagne, I don't have that documented.)

It's showing the line of descent I'm having trouble with.  I don't have all the information from the book entered into my family tree.

But the entire line has been entered into FamilySearch's Family Tree.  So I'll use that for my reference after my personal tree has petered out.

1.  Janice is the daughter of Bertram Lynn Sellers, Jr. (1935–2019).

2.  Lynn is the son of Anna Gauntt (1893–1986).

3.  Anna is the daughter of Thomas Kirkland Gauntt (1870–1951).

4.  Thomas is the son of James Gauntt (1831–1899).

5.  James is the son of Hananiah Selah Gaunt (1795–1852).

6.  Hananiah is the son of Hananiah Gaunt (1762–abt. 1799).

7.  Hananiah is the son of Joseph Gaunt (1740–1806).

8.  Joseph is the son of Hananiah Gaunt (1707–1792).
(Up to this point I have been using what I have entered and documented in my family tree program.  After this I'm taking the information from Family Tree, but as far as I know it was taken from David Gauntt's book.)

9.  Hananiah is the son of Daniel Lester Gaunt (1688–1721).

10.  Daniel is the son of Hananiah Gaunt (1646–1721).

11.  Hananiah is the son of Peter Gaunt (1608–1680).

I will mention that the Gaunt line does go further back on Family Tree.  I know the book by David Gauntt is well researched and documented, and I trust the information there.  At the front he included a list of other Gaunts in Lancashire, England at the time of Peter Gaunt but whom he had determined were probably related but had to be from collateral lines, not direct lines.  That notwithstanding, I discovered that several years ago someone had added two of the names from that list as the father and grandfather of Peter Gaunt in the International Genealogical Index.  Since I don't have my copy of the book handy, I can't check the names that are currently connected as Peter Gaunt's father and grandfather against the list in the book.  Given that, I'm choosing not to include them, and I'm stopping at Peter.

I decided to look further up the line that is posted on Family Tree.  Seven generations past Peter, the line goes to John of Gaunt, who didn't have any children who had Gaunt as a family name; they used the name Beaufort.  So I'm definitely not trusting what is posted there.  I guess I'll have to do the research myself.  (Or check with David Gauntt to see if he has continued his own research!)

(As an amusing side note to inaccuracies in Family Tree, my great-great-grandfather James Gaunt is entered as James Kirkland Gauntt and includes a photograph — of my grandmother's brother James Kirkland Gauntt, who lived 1905–1949 and looks quite a bit like a rakish gangster, with the same photo as is posted for his grandfather.  There is a surviving photo of my great-great-grandfather, but that ain't it, and I have never seen his name as James Kirkland Gauntt anywhere but in Family Tree.  It was just James Gaunt.)

This means that while Randy has a line back to his 33rd-great-grandfather, I have to stop at my 9th-great-grandfather.  On the other hand, I am confident in my information.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

"Who Do You Think You Are?" - Tom Bergeron

I made it!  This is the last episode for the most recent season of Who Do You Think You Are?  And I'm even including a small amount of commentary on the "Into the Archives" filler episode.  I'm all caught up now, at least for a while.

The lead-in for this episode says that Tom Bergeron will follow the dramatic trail of his father's French family, including a young family that endured starvation and religious persecution.  He will be moved by the actions of one of his ancestors, who was brave enough to leave France behind.

Bergeron is a two-time Emmy Award-winning television host.  He began as a disc jockey in radio but by 1998 was the host of Hollywood Squares (well after the days of Paul Lynde, unfortunately).  He gained some measure of fame as the host of America's Funniest Home Videos (a program on which a good friend of mine worked, in the Bob Saget days) and now is known for Dancing with the Stars, where he is in his tenth season.  He divides his time between Los Angeles and Portsmouth, New Hampshire.  He lives with Lois, his wife of 33 years, and their two daughters.

Bergeron begins by telling us that he grew up in New England with what he considers to have been a typical family life.  His mother was Mary Catherine Costello; his father was Adrian Raymond Bergeron, Jr.  He went to Catholic grade school for eight years.  His was the classic family:  father, mother, brother, sister, and a pet.  As far as he knows, he is Irish on his mother's side and French on his father's.

He spent more time with his father's family growing up.  He knew one of his great-great-grandparents (lucky him!):  His father's grandmother was called "Mi-me" (or at least that's the closest I can come to approximating his pronunciation without using diacritical marks), which Bergeron thinks might be French for "grandmother."  He has no idea what her actual name was.

Bergeron thinks that his family went from France to Canada and then to the United States.  He apparently has already discovered that looking for family history can be like driving in a fog.  Growing up, his family didn't talk much about about their history.  Now he is interested in learning how the Bergerons came to the United States, what they went through, and about them as people.

Bergeron begins his journey of following the trail of bread crumbs by meeting with Kyle Betit at the Portsmouth Public Library, probably not far from his home.  Betit has built a family tree on Ancestry.com for him to look at.  (We, however, do not really get to look at it; there are few camera shots, and they go by quickly.)  We start with Bergeron himself:  Thomas "Tom" Raymond Bergeron, born May 6, 1955 in Haverhill, Essex County, Massachusetts.  We move from him straight to "Mi-me", who it turns out was Marie Azilda "Memere" (mémère translates to "old woman" and is French Canadian for "grandma") Gaudrault, born December 27, 1883 in Les Eboulemonts, Charlevoix, Québec, Canada; died September 23, 1977 in Haverhill.  Bergeron is surprised at the name Marie; he never knew what her name was.  There is a small amount of discussion about the fact that the French in Québec are almost all Catholic.  We see glimpses of a few more names:  Moses (Moïse) Bergeron; Michel Bergeron, born 1842, died 1929; Joseph Bergeron, born 1804, died 1883.  The camera zooms in on Marie-Josèphe Vanasse dit Précourt (but no discussion about dit names).

Bergeron wonders when his father's side of the family came from France, and Betit directs him to look at Suzanne Rabouin, born November 23, 1655, died 1755.  She was the daughter of Bergeron's 9th-great-grandmother Marguerite Ardion, born 1636–1640 in La Rochelle, France, died unknown (yeah, sure it's unknown).  She married Jean Rabouin in 1663; he was also born in La Rochelle.  Bergeron finds this information intriguing and asks if they met in France and then came over.  Betit, who apparently is trained to lie on camera (which makes him a better actor than Kelly Clarkson), says, "In this case we don't know."  (Sure, you don't.)

Now that Bergeron knows who his first French ancestors were to come to the New World, he wants to know the next step.  Betit recommends he continue his search in La Rochelle, of course.

As Bergeron departs, he's already having a good time but is wondering why his 9th-great-grandparents went to Canada, whether they knew each other in France, who were the parents of his 9th-great-grandmother (what about his 9th-great-grandfather?), and whether they were upset when she left.  That sounds like an interesting list of beginning questions to me.

As he drives around in La Rochelle (I noticed he did his own driving everywhere), Bergeron says he wants to find out why Marguerite would leave for Canada.  He's impressed by the feeling of real history in the city, that you can sense thousands of years gone by.  He is likely seeing the same buildings that Marguerite saw when she was a child there.  He goes to the La Rochelle archives (La Charente-Maritime Archives Départementales), where historian Kevin C. Robbins of Indiana University suggested they meet.  The first thing Robbins has Bergeron do is put on a pair of the infamous white conservator's gloves.  Then out comes a 1623 register of notary contracts; Robbins knows that this particular notary worked primarily with Protestants.  There is a marriage contract for Ardion and Soret, Marguerite's parents.

Bergeron admits immediately, "I can't even pretend to read any of this."  Conveniently, Robbins has a translation handy.  Before they get around to the contract, there's discussion of the fact that the Reformed religion (Protestant, but specifically Huguenot) was typical for La Rochelle at the time; about 80% of the city was Protestant.  The Catholic kings of France were suspicious of Protestants, and Protestants thought that the church was corrupt, greedy, and focused on money (well, you can't fault them on that).

February 1623 registration of marriage
of Pierre Ardyon and Suzane Soret
(their names are just above the
signature at the bottom)
The mariage contract, dated January 5, 1623, was between Pierre Ardion, a master stonemason native to La Rochelle (whose father Jehan, "in his lifetime" [suggesting he was already deceased], was a wholesale fish broker), and Suzanne Soret (daughter of the late — [I couldn't see the name] and of Marie Simon], also a native of the city.  Pierre Ardion, being a master stonemason, probably helped build many of the La Rochelle buildings Bergeron had earlier been admiring.

And what was in the future for this newly wedded couple?  This was a period of growing tension.  The Catholic kings had been hunting down the Protestant community.

The narrator tells us that the French Royal Army tried to take La Rochelle in 1572 but failed.  After this, Protestants in the city minted their own coins and ran their own municipal government, and many of them prospered.  King Louis XIII, who came to power in the early 1600's, considered the city a threat to Catholic control and decided to make an example of it.

In 1627, royal forces of the Catholic king surrounded La Rochelle for another siege.  To learn more about what happened, Robbins directs Bergeron to a colleague who specializes in the military situation in that period.  In the meantime, Robbins "intend[s] to pursue" more research on "what happened to Marguerite" and will let Bergeron know what he finds.  (Have you noticed there's no more mention of the 9th-great-grandfather?)

Bergeron says this is the first day he is starting to see the silhouette of his ancestor through the haze.  As she becomes more real to him, he is becoming more emotionally invested in the search.

la tour Saint-Nicolas
The next stop on the La Rochelle tour is the Tour Saint-Nicolas (Saint Nicholas Tower), which stands at the mouth of the city's harbor.  Bergeron wants to learn what happened to Marguerite's parents during the siege.  Greeting Bergeron at the tower is Erik Thomson, a historian of early modern Europe (the 17th century is "early modern"?)  at the University of Manitoba.  Thomson begins the history lesson by saying that in August 1627, the army had surrounded La Rochelle.  Between 25,000 and 30,000 soldiers constituted the army, while as many as 20,000 residents of La Rochelle remained in the city to face the siege.  The city's defenses were made of stone, so Pierre Ardion would have been an important person for keeping them in good repair.

map of La Rochelle showing
the second, outer, wall
The army built a second wall some distance from the city's original wall.  The plan was to surround the city, cut it off, and starve the residents.  A dike was built to close off the harbor mouth to remove access to the sea and complete the outer circle.  Louis XIII intended to choke the life out of La Rochelle.  The people in the city were aware of the situation and knew they were being starved to death.

By the spring of 1628 things were looking pretty bleak for the town.  Thomson has a translation of an account written by Pierre Mervault, who survived the siege:  A Journal of the Last Siege of the City of Rochel, Begun the 20 of July 1627.  The original book (in French) was printed in the 17th century.  Bergeron reads two short sections.  (The translation style is . . . interesting.)

At this time the necessity, which was horrible, obliged divers to seek ways and means to pass the Line, others to scatter themselves in Vineyards, to gather even but Virgin Grapes, and some to render themselves willingly.  It was now published in the Camp, upon pain of death, not to suffer them to approach the Line, nor to take Prisoners any that should come out of Rochel, but by Musket-shot force them to return within their Counterscarp and Ports, from whence many were killed, choosing whether to finish their lives by a Musket-Bullet, than to return home to die there miserable of Famine:  And many Women and Maids of the common people, going into the Vineyards, were violated, and beaten with Forks, and shafts of Halberts; then stripped as naked as when they came from the Wombs of their Mothers, and so sent back to the City; and in this sort I have seen some return:  But to meet them, other Women went to carry them Gard-robes and Cloaks to cover their nakedness.

While reading this section Bergeron comments on how some people were committing suicide by deliberately choosing to walk out where the soldiers will shoot them.  He is also struck by the fact that the royal army was raping and beating women.  In the second section, things aren't going any better.

October 19, 1628
Now the Famine increased dreadfully, nothing being left, the greatest number having in three Months time not known what Bread was, nor any thing of ordinary Provisions, Flesh of Horses, Asses, Mules, Dogs, Cats, Rats and Mice, were all eaten up; there was no more Herbs or Snails left in the Fields, so that their recourse was to Leather, Hides of Oxen, skins of Sheep, Cinamon, Cassia, Liquorish out of Apothecaries Shops, Flemish, holewort frigased, Bread of Straw made with a little Sugar, Flower of Roots, Irish Powder, Belly of the skin of Beasts and Sheep, Horns of Deer beaten to Powder, old Buff Coats, soles of shoes, Boots, Aprons of Leather, Belts for Swords, old Pockets, Leather Points, Parchment, wood beaten in a Mortar, Plaster, Earth, Dung (which I have seen with my own eyes) Carrion, and Bones that the Dogs had gnawn, and indeed all that came in their sight, though such food gave rather death than sustenance, or prolongation of it, from whence there passed not a day that there died not two or three hundred, or more persons, of such sort, that not only the church-yards, but then the Houses, Streets, and out-parts of the City were in a little time filled with dead bodies, without having other Sepulchres than the places where they fell, the living not having so much — (and I couldn't read the end)

Bergeron exclaims, "They were eating leather?!"  He is astounded and horrified by what the king was doing to the population of La Rochelle.

It becomes obvious that La Rochelle had to surrender.  When it did so, only about 5,000 people were left.  The siege had killed three quarters of the population.  Obviously, Pierre and Suzanne survived (because from what we saw earlier, Marguerite's birth wasn't until the 1630's).  In profound contrast to the detailed description of the siege, everything in the city looks perfectly normal now.

Bergeron is somewhat subdued after the revelation of what his 10th-great-grandparents survived.  We see him apparently the next day, because while he is surprised at how emotional his reaction is to their circumstances, he wonders what he will learn "today" and asks, "Haven't I been through enough?"  Even though he knows his ancestors have been dead for hundreds of years, he hopes things went well for them.

Kevin Robbins has returned with some "newly discovered" information and has arranged to meet Bergeron at the Médiathèque in La Rochelle (it appears to be part of the public library system).  Bergeron is hoping that Robbins has the next chapter in his search.  Robbins starts with a book of baptisms from November 1632–July 1638 (and something else, but I couldn't read the rest of the very aged handwriting on the cover), and since we were shown at the beginning of the episode that Marguerite was born 1636–1640, I was expecting her baptism to be shown.  Indeed, I was not disappointed.  In the church of Villeneuve, the only Protestant (i.e., Huguenot) church still allowed by the king, Marguerite Ardion, daughter of Pierre, was baptized August 11, 1636, eight years after the siege was over.  (I looked several times for Marguerite's baptism, and I just can't find it in the La Rochelle records that are online.  If someone else finds it, please let me know!)

Burial registration of Pierre Ardion,
47 years old
Bergeron wants to fill in more of the gaps between Marguerite's birth and her travel to Québec, and Robbins replies, "That's why we're here."  He has more documents!  Next we see the book of burials for 1631–1647 for the Villeneuve cemetery in La Rochelle.  Pierre Ardion was buried December 31, 1641; they say he was 50 years old (but the burial record says 47).  (I realized about this time that Robbins had not been providing Bergeron with translations, as is customary for WDYTYA, but rather was reading all of the entries to him.  I wonder why they did it differently for this episode.)

The men discuss that after Pierre died, Suzanne would have been in a difficult position.  As a single mother, she probably would have faced the need to work.  (Why wouldn't she remarry?  Was that not common among the Huguenot community in La Rochelle at this time?  And based on the discussion, I have to assume that Pierre must not have had much money, even though he was a master stonemason, though that might be partly due to lingering aftereffects of the siege.)  After talking about this, Robbins takes out a book of deaths from 1647–1658.  Bergeron definitely seems more on the ball than a lot of the celebrities we've seen on this program.  Not only is he able to read the cover, he asks, "Now we're gonna find out when mom died, right?"  And then they cut to a commercial.

Burial registration of Suzanne Soret,
50 years old
On returning to the program we learn that Bergeron is correct.  Suzanne Soret ("the widow Ardion") was buried in July 1650.  Marguerite was an orphan at 14 years old.  Bergeron thinks of his own two daughters and what things would have been like if they had had to fend for themselves when they were 14.  Going back to Marguerite, her best-case scenario would have been having extended family who could incorporate her into their household.  We don't learn how she handled that, however.  The first document the researchers were able to find for Marguerite after her mother died is in a book with the title "Liste des protestant convertit ..." for 1655–1661.  Again, Bergeron is able to get the gist of the French and realizes it's a list of conversions; did Marguerite become Catholic before she went to the New World?  And indeed, Marguerite, an unmarried woman, age 23, converted to the Catholic faith on January 1, 1659.  There would have been a lot of pressure on her (and on all the remaining Huguenots in La Rochelle) to convert.  She probably had fewer options than many others, though.

The next book is particularly fragile, and Robbins handles it very carefully.  (Then why handle it just for an entertainment program??!!)  It is another book of marriages; it includes a contract for the marriage between Marguerite and Laurent Baudet on January 12, 1659.  This comes as a shock:  Marguerite was married before she married Bergeron's 9th-great-grandfather in Québec?  The translation shows that Baudet was a shoemaker from La Rochelle, son of the late Simon Baudet, who was a stevedore; Marguerite is identified as the daughter of the late Pierre Ardion.  Baudet was illiterate; instead of a signature, he made his mark.  Bergeron turns to the camera, breaks the fourth wall, and exclaims, "You can do better, Marguerite!"  Looking at the dates, Marguerite converted less than two weeks before her marriage.  It seems pretty clear that the conversion was done only so she could marry; she was a survivor and did what she needed to do.

Robbins points out a marginal note:  A son, Laurent Beaudet, was baptized on February 21, 1662.  (Unfortunately, I couldn't find the Beaudet records either.)  Of course, Bergeron hasn't heard about this child and can't imagine Marguerite would have taken such a small infant with her on the cross-Atlantic journey.  Robbins says he looked but could not find a death or burial registration for either of the two Laurents.  Bergeron asks where he should go next, and Robbins tells him to investigate Marguerite in Québec.  As the two men part, Bergeron says, "Merci," and Robbins responds, "Je vous en prie" ("You're welcome.").  I was pleasantly surprised at how good Bergeron's French pronunciation was, such as when saying Québec and Suzanne (and far, far better than the mangling that Melissa Etheridge did).  Sometimes he sounded better than Robbins.

While driving, Bergeron says he was not expecting so many tragedies on top of what Marguerite's parents had experienced during the siege.  He hopes Marguerite had a happy ending with Jean in Québec.  He drives by some wall art of a young girl who looks like a hitchhiker; she is carrying a suitcase that has "La Rochelle Québec" printed on the side.  Is that what graffiti looks like in La Rochelle?

In beautiful Québec City, Bergeron heads to the National Archives of Québec (which is an interesting turn of phrase, considering that Québec is not a nation).  He wants to find Marguerite's marriage to his 9th-great-grandfather, which had to have taken place between 1662–1663.  Archivist Peter J. Gagné of the Musée de la civilisation of Québec City is waiting to meet him.  Bergeron sees white conservator's gloves and knows he's going to learn things.

Gagné shows Bergeron something, which he correctly guesses is a marriage contract.  Bergeron recognizes Marguerite and Jean's names and even the date, October 17, 1663 (by this point I was pretty sure that Bergeron has a good working knowledge of French).  Gagné hands him a translation and he says, "Thank you.  These have been very helpful."  (I really enjoyed his wry sense of humor.)  The marriage contract stated that Marguerite was a widow from her first marriage to Beaudet.  Bergeron asks if that means Beaudet died in La Rochelle.  All Gagné can tell him is that there is no mention of Beaudet in Québec records.

Registration of October 28, 1663 marriage of Jean Rabouin and Marguerite Ardion
The marriage contract also mentions Marguerite's 16-month-old son — he survived! — and that Jean Rabouin agreed to "retain and provide lodging, nourishment and catechism" and generally to take care of the child until he reached the age of reason (which might have been 15 years old, but they didn't show that entire section).  So the contract somewhat functioned as an adoption.  Bergeron is thrilled that something good had finally happened to Marguerite.  He is surprised, however, that Rabouin would marry a widow with a son and promise to take care of the child.  He says that Marguerite has "been through a shit [bleeped out] storm!" but is glad that she had the courage to make the trip.

Gagné now turns to an important history lesson.  The fact that Marguerite came to Canada in 1663 with nothing, and that Rabouin was willing to accept responsibility for her son as part of the marriage contract, most likely means that Marguerite was a fille du roi, or a "daughter of the king" (and if she was, then by extension, her first husband had to be dead before she left, or she couldn't have come as a fille).  (What Gagné doesn't discuss, at least not from what we saw, is that he is pretty much the authority on the filles du roi.  He wrote a two-volume work which has biographies on all of the filles, so Marguerite must be in there.)  Until 1863, there was a significant imbalance in the number of men and women in New France, with about six to ten times more men than women.

The narrator steps in to elaborate.  From 1663–1673 the French crown arranged for and funded about 800 unmarried women to immigrate to New France.  They were known as the filles du roi because the travel expenses were paid by the king's treasury.  Marguerite was among the first group of women sent.  Their job was to marry, have children, and help create a sustainable colony for France.

Bergeron suggests this was analogous to an arranged marriage, but Gagné corrects him.  The fille could choose her own husband.  In the economics of supply and demand, she had the supply, and she could demand what she wanted.  For Marguerite, this meant that she could stipulate that her husband-to-be accept and provide for her son from her first marriage.  Women held negotiating power, which was unprecedented for the time.  The program was very successful, and many (most?) of the women had large families.

But wait, Bergeron wants even more.  How can he find out about Marguerite's children?  Gagné says he needs to go to Nôtre Dame de Québec (hey, maybe Bergeron will run into Bryan Cranston there!), where he has a colleague who can be of assistance.

Bergeron finds it powerful to learn that Marguerite's baby survived.  He can appreciate that Marguerite was a strong woman:  He is married to a strong woman, and both of his daughters are strong.  He's starting to like Marguerite a lot.

Baptismal record for Jacques Rabouin
In the Nôtre Dame archives, Bergeron works with Ann Little of Colorado State University.  They start off with baptismal records, of which we see only one:  Jacques Rabouin, who was baptized October 7, 1675.  Bergeron is thrilled to find out that Marguerite had at least one more son.  When Jacques was born, she was about 39 years old.  If she was still having children at that age, she must have been healthy.  She was a good fille du roi.

The next item Little shows is an estate inventory dated September 6, 1679, which suggests someone had died.  She provides only the translation; we don't see the original.  Jean Rabouin was listed as the widower, so Marguerite had died by the age of 43.  Rabouin was the guardian of the following minors:  Marie, 16 years old; Suzanne, 14; Marguerite, 12; Izabel, 10; Anne, 9; Magdelene (7, though not stated on air); and Jacques, 4 (the child whose baptism we saw).  (The baptismal records for Jacques and all six girls are available online, as is the record for at least one more child.  Birthdates:  Marie, April 12, 1664; Suzanne, November 23, 1665; Marguerite, August 25, 1667; Izabel [Elisabeth], August 27, 1669; Anne, May 16, 1671; Magdelene, July 25, 1673; and Marie Angelique, September 28, 1677, who does not appear to have survived to 1679.)  The number of children surprises Bergeron.  (Marguerite's first son, Laurent, is not discussed, but if he was still alive, he would have been about 17, so he possibly wasn't considered a minor, Rabouin probably was not legally responsible for him anymore, and he wasn't covered by the guardianship.)

Church bells ring in the background, and Little turns her head to listen to them (possibly concerned that they might interfere with the taping?).  Bergeron jumps in and says, "The bells are tolling for Marguerite right now."  This man is quick on his feet.

Marguerite died at the Hôtel Dieu, which is not a hotel, as Bergeron thinks, but a hospital.  She probably died of an infectious disease.

The last document Little has is a map of landowners, on which Jean Rabouin's name appears.  The map is of a large island (Île d'Orléans) in the St. Lawrence River, about five miles out of Québec City.  It was the site of some of the initial colonization of the area.  Bergeron is excited:  "We get to go there!"  Little adds that he should visit Ancestral Park, which has a monument to the founders of Québec.  She points out to him that his family is special because he is a descendant of a fille du roi, the Canadian equivalent of being a Mayflower descendant.

Bergeron appears to be surprised and says that he was so focused on Jean Rabouin (really?  the entire episode has been about Marguerite's family; besides, he started out wanting to know about the Bergerons) he hadn't been thinking about how important Marguerite was.  Now he's blown away and says that Marguerite has emotionally taken root for him.

On his way to Île d'Orléans, Bergeron is looking forward to walking the land where Marguerite lived with her children.  He now can appreciate what the filles meant to Québec.  At Ancestral Park (Parc des Ancêtres-de-l'Île-d'Orléans) he finds Jean and Marguerite's names on the founders monument (La mémorial des familles souches de l'île d'Orléans).  He then drives to where Rabouin's land was.  There's a lot of land (but it isn't clear how much of it actually belonged to Rabouin).  (When he got out of the car to walk around, I noticed that he was carrying his jacket, which seemed odd on such a sunny day.  Maybe the car didn't get to stay in that spot?)

Bergeron becomes philosophical at the end.  We learn from the past to improve and enrich the present.  He has been moved by the stories of his ancestors' lives and was more emotional than he had expected.  He's now proud to be a descendant of a fille du roi.  Even when your ancestors have been dead for more than 300 years, if you listen, you can still learn from them.  He had anticipated that this search was going to be more of an intellectual experience, but it's great that he opened up to the emotional side of what he learned.  He closes by saying that life doesn't play out as you think it will.

And to close this season's commentary, I have a little to say about the "Into the Archives" highlights episode, which I was able to watch before it disappeared from my On Demand listings.  As I had expected, even though the commercials had hyped the never-before-seen footage, most of what we saw was familiar.  Two scenes got my attention.  The first was one from the Julie Chen episode, where we learned that the reason her grandfather Lou Gaw Tong built the school in his hometown of Penglai was because his mother had been murdered by hooligans.  Lou felt that the reason this had happened was because children were not being educated and therefore did not feel they had anything to work toward.  This was a powerful scene; I wish it had been included in the full episode.

The second set of scenes that caught my eye came from the Valerie Bertinelli episode.  I noted a couple of times in my commentary that her ancestry through Edward I probably would go back to Charlemagne, but I hadn't found the information.  Well, guess what they did — the Herald of Arms, Peter O'Donoghue, took her ancestry back to William the Conqueror, and from him to Charlemagne!  I also found a handy page online listing royal descendants of Charlemagne; the first one on the page is the lineage of William the Conqueror.  So I really was right!  Additional scrolls extended the lineage back to Adam and Eve and then to God, but O'Donoghue said Bertinelli might not want to put too much faith in those.

Friday, August 22, 2014

"Who Do You Think You Are?" - Valerie Bertinelli

This is later than usual because I, being the geek that I am, rewatched the episode multiple times trying to catch every piece of information from the various family trees that were shown.  I still missed some bits because they didn't discuss them on screen and the camera didn't stay on them long enough for me to see everything.  It was interesting to see what they skipped over (but more on that later).

I have to admit, I was happy to finally see an episode of Who Do You Think You Are? this season with a celebrity I recognized.  I didn't feel quite as old and out-of-date.  The opening teaser mentioned royalty (I was thinking we'd find another trail to Charlemagne) and another murder (reminding me of my earlier comment that maybe all the celebrities this season would have murders in their backgrounds).  And in the opening sequence I noticed that a sixth celebrity has been added:  Minnie Driver.  I don't understand why it took until the fourth episode to add her, since she was announced as a substitute for Lauren Graham back in July, before the new season actually started.  Unfortunately, since Minnie Driver was featured in an episode of the UK Who Do You Think You Are?, I'm sure TLC will just take that episode and edit it down to make room for commercials, as NBC did with the Kim Cattrall episode.  And of course we still don't know why Lauren Graham's episode won't air (at least this season), though it's likely that the research team wasn't able to find everything they wanted in time.  On the other hand, maybe the research results just weren't as exciting as anticipated?

The introduction to Valerie Bertinelli explained she hit the big time with One Day at a Time and has also published memoirs and a cookbook of Italian family recipes.  Currently she is one of the stars of Hot in Cleveland (which, although it does have Bertinelli along with Betty White and Jane Leeves, whom I think are great actresses, I have not seen).  Bertinelli and her husband Tom live in Los Angeles, a few miles from her son Wolfie.

Bertinelli starts off by talking with Wolfie about her rolling pin, which used to belong to her Nonni (Italian for grandmother).  She remembers watching Nonni use it to make gnocchi, cappelletti, and other pasta.  (If she's the type of person to hold on to something like that, she really is a good candidate for a family history show.  Hooray!)  She was born in Wilmington, Delaware and grew up in Claymont, Delaware.  Her parents, Andrew Bertinelli and Nancy Carvin, married young and have been married more than 60 years.

Bertinelli knows more about her father's side of the family because she was around them.  Nonni was a baker and cook.  She died when Bertinelli was in her early 30's.  There are questions she didn't ask that now she wonders about, such as when and why Nonni left Italy and anything about Nonni's parents.  Bertinelli's mother embraced her father's side of the family, and consequently she doesn't know as much about her mother's side, so she wants to focus on it.  Apparently Nancy ran away when she was 16 years old (nothing else was said on that subject).  The family didn't talk much and some subjects were not brought up, such as where the family came from.  And Wolfie wants to know if there's a family crest (foreshadowing . . .).

Bertinelli starts her research by meeting with her parents.  They show a photo of Nancy with her parents, Lester Carvin and Elizabeth Adams Chambers.  Nancy was only 8 years old when her mother passed away.  Nancy says her older sister told her their mother was English.

Andrew's parents were Nazzareno and Angelina Rosa Bertinelli.  There's a photo of Nonni's mother and several women standing by a "specialità gelato" cart.  Andrew doesn't know who the other women are.  Nonni's mother's name was Maria Mancia Crosa, but Crosa was her first husband's name.  He was Giorgio Crosa.  Maria came to the U.S. after he died and married Mancia; they lived in Lackawanna County, Pennsylvania.  Nancy says the name as "Man-chee-uh", a common mistake with Italian pronunciation.

Bertinelli says that she needs more help with her mother's side and has asked a genealogist in England to research the Chambers and Carvin families.  She figures she has enough information to start on her father's side herself and decides to look for the family in the 1920 census on Ancestry.com.  Bertinelli searches (with no capital letters!) for "mancha."  (When I heard the name proncounced, I mentally spelled it as I thought it would be in Italian, i.e., Mancia.  Mancha is how you spell it in English to get the same pronunciation.)  She finds Gregorio Mancha, "Mary", Angelina (as Angeline), and a son named George.  Andrew comments that Giorgio was called George in English.

They decide that the next step should be for Bertinelli to go to Lackawanna County to find more information on the family.  (Funny how the Internet gets boring so quickly.)  She travels to the Lackawanna Historical Society in Scranton, Pennsylvania, commenting that she never talked about her father's grandmother and where she was from in Italy.  At the historical society she meets Marcella Bencivenni, a historian who focuses on Italian immigration, who says she has found some information.  She has deed book 382, which she has Bertinelli open to a deed dated April 14, 1931, where Maria Mancha, a widow, sells land in Jefferson Township, Lackawanna County, to Nazzareno and Angelina Bertinelli for $1.  The land is the same farm on which the family was living in the 1920 census.  Bertinelli wonders what happened to Gregorio, and Bencivenni tells her Gregorio died on April 9, 1931; one week later Maria gave the land to her daughter and son-in-law.  Bertinelli wants to know why.  Bencivenni says, "If we are lucky, we can find something in Newspapers.com about his death."  (With all the talent in Hollywood, this is the best scripting they can come up with?)  So Bertinelli searches for <gregorio mancha>, and they show an article from April 10 (actually the second hit; I did the same search) on the computer:  "Believing He Killed Wife, Cortez Man Takes Own Life; Wife Saves Self by Feigning Death."  And we cut to a commercial!  (In the article, his name is actually spelled Gorgia Mancia; maybe they've set up an "alternative" index entry so people can find it?)

Scranton Republican, April 10, 1931
On returning from the commercial, of course the article is the topic of discussion.  "Gorgia" Mancia was 47 years old.  Bertinelli wants to know why he shot Maria.  She looks honestly confused and is wiping away tears.  Bencivenni says that they may not be able to find the answer (translation:  the research team couldn't find the answer).  (A follow-up article, which was actually the first hit from the search, appeared in the same newspaper on April 11.  It stated that no reason was known to explain Gorgia Mancia's actions.  It also said that the only known relative in this country was Angelina.)   She has another document, however.  This is an obituary for Mary Mancia, from the Scranton Times of July 6, 1951.  It says she died in the hospital and that surviving relatives included her daughter, Angelina; son, George Crosa; and brother, Joseph Possio.  So now they have Maria's maiden name!

Bertinelli now wants to look for immigration information on Maria.  Bencivenni says she should look on Ancestry.com.  Bertinelli asks if she should look for Maria under her maiden name, and Bencivenni says yes, because she was a widow when she arrived here and more likely would have taken back her maiden name.  (What she should have explained, but maybe Ancestry and the program's producers didn't think was worth the time, is that in Italy a woman's "maiden" name is her legal name throughout her life.  Whether Maria was single, married, or widowed when she traveled to the U.S., her name would have been Possio.  It was only after living in the U.S. that she would have adopted the custom prevalent here, of using her husband's surname as her own.)

Bertinelli finds Maria Possio arriving on the Dante Alighieri on June 12, 1915 in New York.  She was born about 1879, from Lanzo, Torino, her race was "North" (as in Northern Italian), and her occupation was cook.  She was traveling with two children, Maddelena and Giorgio Crosa.  (Maddelena seems to be Angelina, but the difference in name is never brought up, much less explained.)  Bertinelli asks why Maria would leave Italy with two children in tow.  Bencivenni explains that World War I began in 1914, and on May 23, 1915 Italy entered the war, so Maria wanted to leave the war behind her.  Apparently Maria wasted no time, because her ship sailed on May 29.  (Could she really have gotten all of her paperwork, tickets, travel documents, money, everything in order in six days?  I don't think so.  She was obviously planning to emigrate well before Italy officially was in the war.  Other information gleaned from the ship manifest:  Maddelena/Angelina and Giorgio each applied for U.S. citizenship later, as evidenced by the handwritten numbers to the right of their names; Maria's contact in the U.S. was her brother; and someone must have met Maria and the children at the dock, because there is no note by their names indicating they were held as "likely public charges.")

Bertinelli asks how she can find out about Maria's life in Torino.  No surprise, Bencivenni tells her the only way is to fly to Italy and go to Lanzo.

And she goes to Lanzo, wanting to learn about Maria's first husband and hoping that maybe Maria had an easier life in Italy.  At the Lanzo library (Centro Biblioteche) Bertinelli meets Molly Tambor, an assistant professor of history at Long Island University.  Tambor has Maria's marriage record, which shows that Maria Francesca Possio married Francesco Crosa on June 30, 1910, when she was 31 years old.  Tambor first presents the record in Italian, then gives Bertinelli a translation; Bertinelli says she's going to have to learn Italian.  Maria and Francesco already had a daughter (Angelina), who was born April 27, 1908, and they declared her their legitimate daughter.  Bertinelli wonders how they could have had a child and then not married until two years later.  Tambor explains that a church wedding and a dowry, the latter of which would not have been uncommon at that time, were both expensive, so they were put off.  Giorgio was born after Maria and Francesco married.

So what happened to Francesco?  Tambor has a copy of his death certificate, with a translation.  He died on November 10, 1911 of myocarditis (not actually a heart attack, as Bertinelli says).  In 1912 Maria was working, explaining the photograph of her with the gelato cart.  Tambor comments that it was not common for a woman to work.  Bertinelli wonders if she might have been saving money to go to America (a good probability in my mind), and Tambor says that even if she hadn't been, the money she made would have funded the trip.  She adds that Lanzo is a small town, so she had asked if anyone knew about the Possio family and found someone to talk to.  She has already made arrangements for a meeting.  Bertinelli asks if maybe the person will recognize the people in the photograph, and Tambor tells her to bring it with her (I love these heavy-handed lead-ins).

Pietro's postcard
The next day, Bertinelli goes to the meeting that Tambor has set up.   The on-screen translation says that Pietro Possio is Bertinelli's third cousin; his grandfather was Maria's first cousin (which actually makes them third cousins once removed).  He speaks only in Italian, and Tambor appears to be the interpreter.  (I was proud of myself:  I was able to follow most of the Italian conversation!)  Possio has a postcard sent to his grandfather by Maria from Palermo, as she was leaving Italy for the United States (how cool!).  A translation has been prepared, of course.  She wrote the postcard at 10:00 in the morning and talked about how they were scheduled to leave at 9:00 in the evening and that everyone was fine.

They show Possio the photograph of Maria and the gelato cart.  He points out that the little girl on the left is Angelina (which is what Andrew had thought), and an older woman on the right is Maria's mother.  He then takes out a letter that his father, Francesco, sent to Angelina.  (But if the letter was mailed to Angelina, why does Pietro have a copy?)  Angelina was one year younger than Francesco.  He asked for Angelina's children to write and hoped their children would visit each other, and now that has been fulfilled (also very cool).

As she leaves, Bertinelli says that she has more answers now and that her father will be proud of his grandmother.  She's hoping that in London she'll find information on her mother's side of the family, so she can give Nancy the same type of gift.  And off she heads to England.

In London Bertinelli goes to the Society of Antiquaries, where she meets with Else Churchill of the Society of Genealogists.  Bertinelli says that she had never really thought about her English ancestry before and hopes Churchill will find some information for Nancy.  Churchill says she has found quite a bit of information and has created a family tree.  She adds that the information came from censuses and land records.

The tree begins with Bertinelli and goes to her parents, then to her mother's parents, Lester V. Carvin (born 1907 in Newark, Ohio; died 1984) and Elizabeth Adams Chambers (born 1907 in New Jersey; died after 1945).  It goes back and forth between following male and female lines.  Lester Carvin's parents, Bertinelli's great-great-grandparents, were Joseph Carvin (born 1874 in New Jersey; died after 1943) and Ida P. Gooden (born 1877 in New Jersey; died 1909).  Ida's parents were Jacob G. Gooden (born 1842 in New Jersey; died between 1910–1920) and Mary Emma Bishop (born 1858 in Gloucester County, New Jersey; died 1924).  Mary's parents were Benjamin Bishop (born 1828 in Gloucester County, New Jersey; died 1895) and Mary Claypoole (born 1831 in Gloucester County; died 1862; no comment was made about how young she was or that she died only a few years after her daughter was born).  I was a little surprised at the gaps in the research, especially for the 20th century; I know from personal experience New Jersey is not a friendly state when it comes to getting records, but I would have thought that all the money behind this research would have smoothed the way for the research team.  Maybe those missing pieces of information simply couldn't be resolved before the final edits for the episode but the team finished the research later?

At this point Churchill interrupts Bertinelli to comment on how when doing English genealogy one can come across a "gateway ancestor" — one from a well documented family that can link to already established family trees.  (As if only the English have gateway ancestors?)  She points out that Mary Claypoole is just such a gateway ancestor, because the Claypoole family is well known and documented.  We then go tripping merrily up the Claypoole family tree, talking only about the men.  We go from Mary, Bertinelli's 3x-great-grandmother, to her parents, John Claypoole (born 1795 in Cumberland County, New Jersey; died 1877) and Jane (not discussed on screen, but born 17XX in New Jersey; died 18XX).  John's parents were Wingfield (how's that for a given name?) Claypoole (born after 1755 in New Jersey; died about 1806) and Mary Poole (also not discussed; born about 17XX).  Wingfield's parents were John Claypoole (born 1714 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; died after 1770), who had no wife listed at all.  This John's parents were Joseph Claypoole (born 1677 in London, England; died 1744) and Rebecca Jennings (not discussed; born unknown; died 1713 [I think]).  And we stop at Joseph's parents, Bertinelli's 8th-great-grandfather, James Claypoole (born 1634 in England; died 1687) and his wife, Helena M—, also not discussed on screen (and difficult to read; I couldn't see the birth information, and death looked like 1688, but I'm not sure).

After hitting James, Churchill explains that the Claypooles are a well known line of Quakers in England.  Bertinelli asks how she can learn more about the family, and Churchill tells her the best place to go is the center for the history of Quakers in England, Friends House in London.

At Friends House Bertinelli meets Scott Stephenson, Ph.D., the director of collections at the Museum of the American Revolution (who apparently also specializes in Quaker research?).  She tells him that she has learned that her 8th-great-grandfather was James Claypoole, a Quaker.  He tells her a little about the history of the Quakers in England:  how they were persecuted and jailed for their beliefs because they went against the Church of England; in the 1680's more than 10,000 Quakers were in prison.  When Bertinelli wants to know if James was in trouble also, Stephenson pulls out James Claypoole's Letter Book, which utterly amazes Bertinelli.  A bookmark indicates a letter Claypoole wrote to William Penn — upon which Bertinelli asks, "The William Penn?" — dated the 1st of the 2nd month, 1683 (which I believe would have been April 1, because Great Britain did not adopt the Gregorian calendar until 1752).

William Penn
The narrator gives us a short overview of William Penn and the Quakers.  The religion began in England in the 1650's.  It had many social aspects that diverged from commonly held beliefs of the time, including pacifism, gender equality, and that people could communicate with God without the need of a priest.  Quakers suffered persecution for these beliefs.  Penn petitioned King Charles II for the right to create a colony in North America, which Charles granted in 1681, giving Penn more than 45,000 square miles to create a safe haven for Quakers wishing to leave England.

Claypoole's letter to Penn said that Quakers were reduced to meeting in the streets because they had been locked out of their meeting houses.  Stephenson then shows Bertinelli a copy of the document that essentially founded Pennsylvania, which was written in 1682 in England.  It laid out governance for the province and was witnessed on the back by men who had purchased land.  One of the signatures is that of James Claypoole.  Bertinelli comments on his beautiful handwriting.

Bertinelli wants to know what happened to James and if he made it to Pennsylvania.  Stephenson directs her to another bookmark in the book.  This is not a letter from Claypoole but one about him.  He was elected to the council in 1687 in Pennsylvania, but unfortunately was not well.  The council was on recess during the summer, from May through August.  When it reconvened, Claypoole had died, on August 6.  His wife Helena died a year later, but she inherited several items after his death, including the "largest and least" of his silver tankards, the "larger with the Claypoole Coat of arms."  Boy, did that catch Bertinelli's attention!  After all, Wolfie wants to know if there's a family crest.  So she asks how she can find out more about the coat of arms, and Stephenson directs her to the College of Arms, which controls and records heraldry for the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth.

As she leaves Friends House Bertinelli talks about how she sees parallels between Maria Possio and James Claypoole.  Both came to America for opportunity and made her world a better place because of the things that they did.  She says Claypoole particularly played a huge part in making America what it is (okay, maybe a little bit of an overstatement) and that she has "a lot to live up to."

At the College of Arms Peter O'Donoghue, the Herald of Arms, greets Bertinelli.  He has another family tree for her.  It begins with James Claypoole.  This is another time when they don't talk about all the people in the tree, and it was hard to see the names and dates because the camera didn't focus on them.  James' parents, not discussed, were John Claypoole (died 1660/6) and Mary Angell (born unknown).  The next name brought up after James was actually his grandfather, Adam Claypoole (born 1565; died March 2, 1632), who was married to Dorothy Wingfield (not discussed, but that's apparently where the given name came from for the Wingfield Claypoole born after 1755 in New Jersey; she was born 1565 and died November 1619).  Adam's parents were James Claypoole (born unknown; died about 1599) and "Jo" (that's all I could read, and I was guessing Joan; apparently she was Joan Henson).

O'Donoghue pauses at James Claypoole and says there's a document to look at.  He has Bertinelli open a book at a marked page, which describes the granting of arms to James Claypoole.  The page also shows the coat of arms.  O'Donoghue explains that James, who was from Norborow, Northampton, was not originally of the gentry but was a yeoman.  He made money and transformed the family's fortunes, then its social standing.  He came up enough in the world and had enough influence that he was made a gentleman.  Once he became a member of the gentry, his children could marry the children of other gentlemen.  And that's what happened with James' son Adam.  Adam's wife, Dorothy Wingfield, was from a longer established, important family (he married up).

We then return to the family tree and follow Dorothy's line.  Her parents (Bertinelli's 11th-great-grandparents) were Robert Wingfield (born 1532; died March 31, 1580) and Elizabeth Cecil (not discussed, although she came from a very important family:  her brother was William, Lord Burghley, an important advisor to Queen Elizabeth I; she was born unknown, died 1611).  Robert Wingfield's parents are totally skipped, and next we see Sir Henry Wingfield (born before 1431) and then Sir Robert Wingfield (born 1403, died before November 21, 1454), neither of whose wives were shown.  Sir Robert Wingfield was Bertinelli's 14th-great-grandfather.  Above his name is a notation:  "Arundel 1.159."  When Bertinelli asks what it means, O'Donoghue directs her to a closed cabinet in the room and has her pull out another book.  Page 159 of that book has another family tree.  (Bertinelli is not asked to wear gloves while looking at either book.  She did handle the pages carefully.)

"Gal nations edward i" by
Unknown, Sedilia at
Westminster Abbey;
erected during reign of
Edward I (1272–1307).
Licensed under
public domain via
Wikimedia Commons.
The new family tree starts with Sir Robert Wingfield and his wife, Elizabeth (now she has a name!).  I had trouble reading her last name and thought it was Greskill, but it seems to be Goushill or something similar.  We hop over to Elizabeth's line at this point.  On screen they skip over her parents, who were Sir Robert Goushill and (Lady) Elizabeth (Fitzalan), and go straight to Lady Elizabeth's parents, William de Bohun, 1st Earl of Northampton, and Elizabeth (daughter of Bartholomew de Badlesmere).  William was the son of Humphrey de Bohun, 4th Earl of Hereford, and Elizabeth, daughter of King Edward I! (This Elizabeth was also the relict [widow] of John, Count of Holland, though he wasn't discussed at all, because, after all, we just landed on a king!  She was the daughter of Eleanor of Castile, who was the daughter of another king, Ferdinand III of Castile.  And with all this royalty, I know it must go back to Charlemagne, but I can't find the path.  So I'll claim accuracy on that point.)

O'Donoghue proceeds to tell Bertinelli that Edward is a great king to be descended from.  He was the quintessential Medieval English king.  He lived a long life, dying at the age of 72 (though Wikipedia says he was 68).  He was about 6'2" and was known as Longshanks because of his height.  O'Donoghue mentions Edward fought in the Crusades but that it was a disaster and says, "Never mind."  And during his reign England began its first steps to what would eventually become Parliamentarian democracy.  (What O'Donoghue neglects to mention is that Edward I expelled all Jews from England in 1290, after having expelled Jews from Gascony in 1287.  "Great" might be in the eye of the beholder.)

Bertinelli is obviously excited at these revelations but appears to be very self-effacing.   She is glad she has filled in blanks on her mother's side of the family tree with so many names and stories.  Now she is heading back to Los Angeles to share the information with her parents.  She's been so in touch with her Italian side all of her life and feels a real connection with Maria (and she brings back the postcard Maria sent from Palermo to show her parents).  She's never had any inkling about her English background but now has to identify with that side of her family as well.  And of course she's thrilled with the "Claypoole coat of arms."  (What they never address in the program is that English heraldry doesn't award a coat of arms to a family but to a person.  Each person in the family entitled to a coat of arms must use a variation of the basic form.  So the Claypoole coat of arms would originally have been James Claypoole's.  His descendants would have differentiated theirs by various devices.  I guess Wolfie will have to come up with his own version.)

On a totally separate note, now that Who Do You Think You Are? is on TLC, I'm seeing commercials for lots of programs from that network.  I have to say, I had no idea so many incredibly tacky, tasteless shows existed.

Whew!  I'm glad I finially finished this one.  All that nobility was very confusing after a while.  Onward to Kelsey Grammer!

Monday, September 2, 2013

"Who Do You Think You Are?" - Cindy Crawford

Instead of playing on the idea that she was very much like her ancestors (à la Kelly Clarkson and Chris O'Donnell), this episode of Who Do You Think You Are? went in the opposite direction.  It was emphasized several times that Cindy Crawford is just an ordinary girl-next-door from the Midwest, but we learn that she has ancestors who were extraordinary.  They did, however, maintain the trend of no pretense that the celebrities are doing any real research; at every location Crawford said that she had requested someone to do research for her.  That in itself is still a sham, of course — the program sets everything up with the researchers — but it is an improvement.

Crawford's introductory biography tells us that she was one of the first true supermodels, when they went "from mannequins to superstars."  At one point she was the highest-paid model in the world.  She has been on the cover of more than 400 magazines and has fronted for several brands of merchandise.  She now lives in Malibu, California with her husband and two children.

Crawford tells us she was born in DeKalb, Illinois, a small town about 60 miles west of Chicago.  She still thinks of herself as a small-town girl and grew up surrounded by her family, cousins, and extended family.  She was extremely fortunate that all four of her great-grandmothers and two of her great-grandfathers were still alive when she was a child (wow, that is fortunate!); they lived in Minnesota, and she visited them two or three times a year growing up.  She doesn't know anything about her family prior to them and considers herself a mutt.  She is pretty sure all of her grandparents and even her great-grandparents were born in the U.S.

The rationale for her to investigate her genealogy is that one of her children has a 6th-grade family history project.  She thinks it would be cool if she had an ancestor who was historically relevant (foreshadowing!), both for herself and her family.  Being American is great, but we all had to come from somewhere before that, and it would be nice to have a connection to history.  So we know there will be at least one important ancestor, and we'll be leaving the U.S.

Her father's mother was Ramona Hemingway, and she has a photo of Ramona and herself taken at a Hemingway family reunion, probably in Mankato, Minnesota.  She's always wondered if she might be related to Ernest Hemingway.  Ramona's parents were Frank Hemingway and Hazel Brown.  Apparently Frank, a popcorn farmer, wanted a son, but he and Hazel had eight daughters.  Frank's parents were called Grandpa Lou and Grandma Lou, and she thinks they probably both weren't named Lou (why couldn't it be short for Louise?).  That's as far back as she knows, so she decides to start with them.

Crawford goes to Ancestry.com, which is expected, but I was pleasantly surprised by a couple of her comments.  She says she's going to assume that her great-great-grandfather Lou's name was short for Louis — very nice to hear someone admit that a search is based on an assumption.  Then, when she sees the results, she says there sure are a lot of Louis Hemingways — this is the first time I can remember on this program that the person searching didn't just go unerringly to the right person.  Crawford even vocalized how she was choosing which person to look at — she focused on the Louis in Vernon, Blue Earth County, Minnesota, which is where her family lived.  Wow, an actual example of the research process!  Who would have thought?

That said, she clicks on an 1880 census result.  The page shows Louis was born in Minnesota, but his father Frank was born in New Hampshire.  Frank makes sense for Lou's father's name, because he named one of his own sons Frank.

Then we stray from reality.  Crawford decides that since Frank was born in New Hampshire, she should look for him in New England, and she's going to go to the New England Historic Genealogical Society in Boston.  Um, say what?  Let's see, she found one record — one measly record — that says Frank was from New Hampshire.  She doesn't even try looking for earlier or later censuses to see if they agree on Frank's birthplace.  She just says Frank "was actually born in New Hampshire."  And then she doesn't go to New Hampshire.  Nope, let's just take off for Boston!  On top of which, how does someone with no experience doing genealogy even know about NEHGS?  Geez, I wish I had this travel budget ....

As she is walking toward NEHGS, Crawford wonders how far back she can go with her research.  She says she has asked genealogist Chris (Christopher) Child to do some research for her.  At NEHGS, the first thing Child tells her is that he traced her Hemingway line back and that she is indeed distantly related to Ernest Hemingway.  Her grandmother Ramona is Hemingway's 8th cousin (yup, that's distant), so Crawford is an 8th cousin twice removed.  Considering all the suicides in that branch of the Hemingway family, though, best not to dwell on that side so much, so Child tells her he found a more impressive ancestor, in her Trowbridge line.  He has a basic family tree which shows Crawford's 5th-great-grandfather Ebenezer Hemingway married Ruth Gates.  Ruth's parents were Amos Gates and Mary Trowbridge (born 1788).  Skipping back four more generations (magic!), Crawford's 10th-great-grandfather was Thomas Trowbridge, born 1600 in Taunton, England.

The Trowbridge family is well known, and Child hands Crawford a book about the family, History of the Trowbridge Family in America (available as a free download from Google Books).  She is surprised that the entire book is about just the Trowbridges.  The book indicates that Thomas Trowbridge married Elizabeth Marshall on March 24, 1627, they had four children in England, and their son James (Crawford's ancestor) was born in Dorchester, Massachusetts in 1636.  So between 1633–1636 the Trowbridges must have moved to North America.

Crawford asks for some historical context on why the Trowbridges would have made such a big move.  Child explains that during the 1620's and 1630's many people left England due to religious reasons, and it was a time of political upheaval.  It is known as the time of the Great Migration, when many Puritans, including Trowbridge, were seeking escape from religious persecution.  They moved to North America to establish a church and practice religion as they wished (they did not extend that privilege to other religions, by the way).  In 1636 many Puritans, among them Trowbridge, moved to the Massachusetts Bay Colony.  Soon after that, however, there was dissension among the settlers on religion, and a group who thought religious practices should be stricter created a colony at New Haven.  Trowbridge moved with that stricter group.  New Haven was an ideal religious community for these Puritans.

Crawford asks if the Puritans were like the Quakers (please!).  Child tells her that they were more like Congregationalists.  (Seriously, if you were going to describe Puritans, is that the first term you would think of?)  Crawford immediately identifies with this because she grew up Congregationalist (nothing like a leading question).  Religion and the church had been important for the Hemingway family, so Trowbridge's Puritan family values had trickled down through the centuries.

Crawford asks where she should go next.  Child suggests the Connecticut State Library, which has a lot of original records about the New Haven Colony.  In the outro to this scene, Crawford comments that she's amazed at what she's done in her "first day doing this" — going back to 1633 has set the bar high (why not 1600, when Trowbridge was born?).  Well, yeah, maybe it was her first day, but how many days and weeks and months before that were the researchers working so that Child could show her that big family tree?!  Geez!

And then we go to Hartford, Connecticut.  Crawford wonders what happened to Trowbridge in New Haven after 1636.  At the library she meets Judith Schiff, chief research archivist at Yale University Library, whom she says she asked to "pull any records she could find" (researchers just love requests like that).  Schiff has found some New Haven court records relating to Trowbridge.  The first she points out is from November 3, 1641 and says that Trowbridge owed taxes and was not paying them.  The second, from April 5, 1644, states that his estate is being taken to pay debts and his family is to be "dissolved", which means that the children are being placed with other families, similar to foster care.  No mention is made of Mrs. Trowbridge in the court records; Schiff says that "no record of Mrs. Trowbridge" was found.  Crawford says she probably died, but Schiff replies only that it's possible.  Either way, it appeared that Trowbridge had left New Haven and not returned.

The next document shown is for a wedding, between Trowbridge and a Frances Shattuck in 1641, back in Taunton, England!  (Hey, that isn't in New Haven!)  Crawford points to the word "weddings" on the page, but the year shown where she points is 1640.  The hypothesis is that Mrs. Trowbridge died, and Trowbridge needed to find a new wife to take care of his children.  Since most of the colonists came as family groups, it would have been difficult for him to find someone to marry in New Haven.  The only unmarried women would have been servants (not an appropriate social class for Trowbridge) or elderly.  So he returned to England to look for someone, but then didn't come back.

Crawford wants to find out more, so Schiff says she should go to England.  Crawford wants to know why Trowbridge would move his family from England if all he was going to do was abandon them.  She does not look happy at the prospect of her ancestor having been a deadbeat dad but says there must be a reason why he left his children.

In Taunton, which is in Somerset (formerly Somersetshire), Crawford visits the Somerset Heritage Centre, where she speaks with Dr. Susan Hardman Moore, a professor of early modern religion at the University of Edinburgh.  (Something that surprised me with this scene was that other people were actually in the room doing research during the filming; maybe British facilities can't be bought off as easily as American ones to clear them for celebrity film crews.)  Moore explains that it was not uncommon at the time for people to go back to England, either temporarily or permanently.  She goes on to talk about how King Charles I had ruled without Parliament for eleven years but reinstated it in 1640 because he wanted to raise money to wage a war.  Many people returned to England between 1640–1641 because of this.

Crawford sits through the history lesson and then asks, "What have you found?"  Moore has her put on conservator's gloves and shows her a document from the Taunton Quarter Session, a local court.  Crawford gamely stumbles along trying to read it and finally admits, "I can only read about every third word," at which point Moore hands her a transcription of the record.  The document, dated October 6, 1652, is a petition for the award of a pension to a man who fought with Captain Trowbridge (yes, our Trowbridge) under Colonel Robert Blake in the Parliamentary Army.  The petition is signed at the bottom by Trowbridge (which Crawford didn't get nearly enthusiastic enough about).  This was during the time of Oliver Cromwell, and Taunton was a center of resistance to King Charles in the events leading up to the English Civil War.

Putting the best spin on the situation, Trowbridge left England in 1636 to escape the tyranny of King Charles, but when given a second chance, he stayed to fight.  He helped defend the council in Taunton for Parliament.  The petition in the Quarter Session indicated that he stood by the men who had fought for him.  As for leaving his children in the New World, Moore says that it was not unusual at the time for families to be separated by the Atlantic.  It is possible that Trowbridge intended to return to New Haven or to bring his children to England, but the war would have made either plan impossible.  After the war he apparently just didn't follow up on it, and the children remained in North America.  (I wonder if he had more children with his second wife?)

Crawford, now caught up in learning about the Civil War, asks what Trowbridge did during the Siege of Taunton.  (This was poor editing, because Moore doesn't use that phrase before Crawford does, and Crawford wouldn't have known about it before meeting Moore.)  Moore suggests she go to Taunton Castle and meet with a colleague.  As she leaves Crawford says that when she travels she has always tried to get cultural experiences, but the fact that this is about her ancestor humanizes the history, which is a great point.

At Taunton Castle Crawford meets Bernard Capp, an emeritus professor of history at the University of Warwick.  He explains that in 1664 Taunton was the only Parliamentary holdout in Somersetshire.  Royalist forces laid siege to the town for seven months.  The town's residents had supplies for only three months but managed to survive; at the end horses were being fed thatch from roofs.  In 1656 the Royalists broke through and gave an ultimatum to Colonel Blake to surrender or be massacred, but they suddenly had to withdraw to face Cromwell, so Taunton survived.  Trowbridge helped protect the people of the town during the siege.  A report written after the siege described the townspeople as being in awe of the soldiers.

Crawford says that Taunton must have been a decisive victory in the war, but Capp corrects her and says it was just one siege.  In 1646 the war ended and King Charles surrendered.  (Capp didn't mention that that was merely the end of the First Civil War; it wasn't until the end of the Second Civil War that the Parliamentarians really won.  Well, until the monarchy was restored with Charles II.)  Trowbridge stayed in Taunton to help the town start again, because there had been a lot of destruction during the siege.

Being at the castle, Crawford imagines what life was like for Trowbridge, who took the opportunity to fight when it was presented to him.  She decides it is an "honor to be descended from such a brave and committed man" (just not commited to his children, apparently).  And then, of course, she wants to know if she can go farther back than Trowbridge.  Capp tells her she should go to London.  That's it — just go to London.  Nowhere specific to go, no one mentioned by name.  Can you imagine wandering around in London hoping to find someone who can help you research your family past 1600?

Charlemagne
Somehow in the huge city of London Crawford ends up at the Banqueting House of Whitehall Palace, where she is greeted by Charles Mosley, a "royal author."  He tells her that he has traced her family beyond Thomas Trowbridge.  He unrolls a massive scroll that shows Thomas' father, John, whom we heard about back at NEHGS, married a Prowse, who was gentry.  Going up the tree, Crawford finds counts, dukes, and a king of Italy (probably not actually Italy, but rather one of the Italian states, considering that Italy as a country didn't exist until beginning about 1859; so maybe he wasn't even really a king?).  Then she starts counting up the generations on the tree, until she's gone back twelve centuries and 41 generations, to — wait for it — Charlemagne!

The narrator said at the beginning of the episode that Crawford would find an "unbelievable connection to early European royalty."  But as Dick Eastman has explained, pretty much anyone alive today with Western European ancestry is descended from Charlemagne.  So it is eminently believable that Crawford is descended from him also.  What is more impressive is that she can actually trace her connection to Charlemagne.  (And what caught my attention on the family scroll was the name Walter de Gant of Lincolnshire, because in my family I have Gants and Gaunts floating around England.  I watched that scene again a couple of times to catch more details.)

Charlemagne is listed as being born April 2, 748 in Aachen, Germany (which wasn't really Germany, either, because it also was a bunch of city-states), and Crawford is amazed.  Mosley tells her she is "off to Germany" to find out more.  She wants to learn more about Charlemagne and says she learned about this stuff when she was studying history, but a lot of it she remembered just for tests.  Then she makes a great comment:  "You listen differently when it's connected to you."  This is what really gets people hooked on genealogy:  finding the connections between themselves and historical people and events.

In Aachen Crawford goes to Aachen Cathedral, where she finds Rosamond McKitterick, a professor of Medieval history at the University of Cambridge.  McKitterick tells Crawford that Charlemagne was the king of Frankia (France) and expanded his kingdom by conquering a lot of Europe.  By around A.D. 800 he ruled most of Western Europe.  As a father he was very protective of his daughters and wouldn't let them marry, but they were educated equally with his sons.  He had 20 children from several different mothers.

McKitterick gives Crawford a passage from Einhard's Life of Charlemagne (a translation of which is available on Google Books).  Einhard was at Charlemagne's court and wrote the biography after Charlemagne had died.  The passage McKitterick chose describes Charlemagne as a person.  Einhard wrote that he was tall and healthy, with long fair hair and large animated eyes.  He walked with a firm gait and had a manly carriage.  Toward the end of his life he had some health problems and his physician wanted him to give up roast meat.  Crawford is excited to learn personal, rather than just historical, information about the man.  She then wants to know what people actually thought of him.  McKitterick says he wasn't just a conqueror or a bully, but that he promoted culture and learning.  She points out that his empire must have been peaceful, because his palaces were not fortified, and that people could travel throughout the kingdom.

Crawford asks about the cathedral they're standing in.  McKitterick explains it was Charlemagne's palace chapel.  From about A.D. 796 he was a Christian ruler, after his conversion.  He went to mass every day in the cathedral, and toward the end of his life spent most of his time there.  Crawford is happy to have more understanding of Charlemagne's legacy and now thinks about him as a person, not just a name.

In her wrap-up, Crawford says again that she's always thought of herself as just a Midwestern girl, but now she has this connection to Charlemagne, her 41st-great-grandfather.  She's looking forward to sharing what she's learned with her children, husband, and family and sounds pretty enthusiastic about history.  She had thought that maybe she'd be able to get back to around 1600 with the research and never imagined she'd go back so far, and that real people like her are linked to history.  She feels very fortunate to have participated in this experience.

The example of the research process at the beginning was good, and it was nice to hear Crawford sound excited when talking about history, but some of her comments, such as how far she had gotten on her "first day doing this", were unbelievable.  And I realized during this episode that the way the celebrity goes from expert to expert collecting information reminds me of computer games where the character has to run around and pick up puzzle pieces to get to the next level.