My Family Tree: Root And Branch Reform

When I began researching my family tree, I assumed that my ancestors came from Somerset. When the official certificates began arriving, it turned out I was barking up the wrong tree. My family’s roots were firmly planted in London — but the discovery that my grandfather had a “secret” middle name came as a complete surprise and has prompted a number of tantalizing questions.

I was so convinced that my grandfather was the Frank John French who had been born in Pendomer in Somerset, where he spent his early life with his Game Keeper father, his mother and siblings in a house adjacent to Coker Wood, that I even arranged a day trip out with Marcy so we could try to locate the house. We were successful, too — and the present owners were kind enough to invite us in for a coffee and a look around the old homestead — but when Grandfather Frank’s marriage certificate arrived a week later, it turned out that all the initial research I’d done into “Yeovil” Frank (as I’d come to call him), based purely on the birth and census records, was misguided. He wasn’t my grandfather after all.

(To find out why I’m tracing the family name of French rather than Kingsley, read the first post in this series: My Family Tree.)

Detail of Grandfather Frank's Marriage CertificateDated the 1st of August 1914, the certificate confirmed some things I already knew — that he was a Pine Worker, that when he was 25 years of age he had married 20-year-old Elizabeth Eleanor Lewis, and they were already living together at the same address in Church Road, Leyton, London. The new information it provided was that Elizabeth’s father (one of my great-grandfathers) was Alfred Thomas Lewis, a Scaffolder. It also showed that my grandfather Frank John French’s father (another of my great-grandfathers) was also named Frank John French — and it listed his occupation not as a Game Keeper, as I’d expected, but a Pine Worker, like his son after him. Both my great-grandfathers, Alfred Lewis and Frank French, were deceased by the time their offspring were wed.

What this certificate proved was that “Yeovil” Frank couldn’t be my grandfather because his father had been a Game Keeper, not a Pine Worker. It also confirmed what I’d figured out previously: that my father, Frank John Edward French, born on the 3rd of January 1915, was conceived out of wedlock. He’d arrived barely six months after his parents married.

It was time to go back almost to square one. I looked again at my notes on the birth records, where I’d listed all Frank French births between 1887 and 1889. Only one now seemed to fit the bill for my grandfather Frank: Frank John S French, born Jul-Aug 1888, registered in Holborn (now in London). But I wondered about that middle initial “S” — there hadn’t been mention of a name beginning with “S” on any of the other documents referring to grandfather Frank, and its inclusion in this particular entry in the register of births had previously led me to ignore it. Still, I took a chance and ordered the birth certificate, prepared to lose another £7 if it proved to be another red herring.

Map of London showing the Tottenham areaMy sister Jean had previously said she thought our family had its roots in London rather than Somerset, and I now had to admit that she was probably right. I made another search of the 1891 Census (conducted on the 5th of April), looking for a three-year-old Frank French living in a London area — and found the right one: the Census has three-year-old Frank French, born in St. Luke’s and living at 63 Stonebridge Road, Tottenham, Edmonton (the blue marker on the map — click for larger image), with his father Frank French (33), a Pine Worker born in Clerkenwell; his mother Elizabeth French (36), born in Berkshire; brother Louis French (13), born in Islington; and sisters Elizabeth French (10), born in Hoxton; Nora(h) French (8), also born in Hoxton; and Florence French (5), born in St. Luke’s, making five children in total. There were also two young boarders: William Lec (11?), born in Islington, and Timothy Thurgood (11), also born in Islington.

(Today, Hoxton is an area in the London borough of Hackney. Islington is close by -– and St. Luke’s is an area in Islington. Tottenham is an area a little further north. In those days, these areas were in the county of Middlesex.)

The place names suggest that when great-grandfather Frank married great-grandmother Elizabeth, they lived in Islington, where eldest son Louis was born; then they moved for a time to Hoxton, where middle sisters Elizabeth and Norah were born; a further move to St. Luke’s was made, and the youngest children Florence and Frank were born there.

By the time of the 1901 Census ten years later, (conducted 31st March), they had moved to 7 Stoneley Road, Tottenham (the red marker on the above map). Head of House (great-grandfather) Frank French was 44 and listed now as a Jewel Case Maker; (great-grandmother) Elizabeth French was 46 and now listed as being born in Brampton, Suffolk, rather than Berkshire, as in the previous Census; (grandfather) Frank was 13; brother Louis was not listed; sister Elizabeth was 20 and an India Rubber Worker; sister Nora was 18 and also an India Rubber Worker; sister Florence was 15 and a Whalebone Worker. A visitor, Furniture Salesman Edward Benson (21), born in Holborn, was also present.

With the eldest son Louis French no longer at the family home in the 1901 Census, I located him, 23 years old and a Cabinet Worker, living at 44 Antill Road, Tottenham (the yellow marker on the above map), with his wife Jessie French who was 21 years old and from Darwen, Lancashire. They also had a new-born son, Louis French, born in Tottenham.

Grandfather Frank’s birth certificate arrived. He was born on the 27th of June 1888. His address is given as 27 Waterloo Street, St. Luke’s. First surprise: his father’s name is given as Frank Robert French, not Frank John French as listed on his marriage certificate. But his father’s occupation — Fancy Cabinet Maker — proves it must be the correct birth certificate for my grandfather Frank. It also tells me my great-grandmother’s maiden name: Foster.

The name Secker on my grandfather's birth certificateSurprise number two explains the middle initial “S” in the birth register, though it creates another mystery: grandfather Frank’s name on his birth certificate was written by the Registrar William Squire as Frank John Robert French, but then the Robert was struck out with a single line and the name Secker added. Squire added an annotation: “23″ — which presumably refers to a footnote somewhere in the register which I’ve yet to investigate.

Secker? What an unusual name! And isn’t it also unusual that the name “Robert” — one of his father’s forenames (and, as I was later to discover, his grandfather’s first name) — was rejected in favour of such a name? It sounds like a surname. What’s the implication of this change? Why was the name Secker — or even the initial “S” — never used on any of the other documents I’ve seen?

The birth was registered just over a month after the event by his mother, Elizabeth. It’s quite possible that she was on her own when she went to the Register Office. Without her husband being aware of what she was doing, could she, at the last moment, have decided to substitute one of her son’s names — his father’s middle name, significantly — with the name of someone who meant something special to her — who had a connection, also, to the child?

I believe it’s quite possible that Secker was the surname of my great-grandmother’s secret lover. The inclusion of this name on the birth certificate could have been Elizabeth’s way of indicating, in coded fashion, that he was my grandfather Frank’s real father. The fact that she chose to remove the name “Robert” — her husband’s middle name — rather than “John” (which wasn’t one of her husband’s names) seems to add weight to my supposition. She couldn’t change his first name, Frank, because that would be too obvious to his father. She wanted to make sure her son carried his real father’s name in some form. This would also explain why the name Secker doesn’t appear on any other documentation: it was a secret name.

If all that is the case, then some of the genes I’ve inherited come not from the paternal side of the French family line at all, but from a mystery man bearing the family name of Secker, about whom I know absolutely nothing.

Here’s the detail of this part of the family tree as it stands, from grandfather Frank French — the blue entry at the right-hand end of the children — and back one generation to great-grandfather Frank and his wife, Elizabeth Foster (click for larger image):

Family Tree - grandfather Frank back to great-grandfather Frank

One other thing I’ve discovered: I’d been trying to locate the births of grandfather Frank’s brother Louis and sisters Elizabeth, Nora and Florence in the register and had some success with the daughters (about which more in a later post), but the eldest son Louis proved elusive — there were no Louis French births registered around the appropriate date (1877). I’d received grandfather Frank’s birth certificate, which gave me his (and Louis’s) mother’s maiden name of Foster, and I’d also received the marriage certificate for great-grandfather Frank and great-grandmother Elizabeth, dated 8th February 1880. I surmised that Louis could have been born out of wedlock and tried looking again under the surname Foster. And there was one — Louis Foster, born in Islington and registered Oct-Dec 1877. So Louis was born about three years before his parents married.

There seems to be a pattern developing: my father Frank was conceived out of wedlock and was born only six months after his parents married; my grandfather Frank’s eldest brother Louis was born three years before his parents married; and it’s quite possible that my great-grandmother Elizabeth had an affair with the mysterious Mr. Secker and had a child — my grandfather Frank — by a man who was not her husband.

My family’s roots are turning out to have given rise to quite a tangled knot of branches.

Click here to read the first post on My Family Tree (November 2008)

The Earliest Crop Circle?

How far back in time does the evidence for crop circles go? Here’s tantalizing evidence for a 2,000-year-old reference I uncovered in The Dead Sea Scrolls.

Mowing Devil WoodcutPrecious few references have been found in early historical records that point to possible crop circles. Probably the most renowned is still the “Mowing Devil” case of 1678, in which a farmer’s field was said to have been visited by a devilish entity that trampled the crops down in a circle. The event was captured for posterity on a wood engraving, but many cerealogical sceptics have dismissed its relevance since its rise to prominence around fifteen years ago.

Professor Robert Plot published a book entitled A Natural History of Staffordshire in 1686, in which he made passing reference to rings, circles and other shapes found in grassy fields. Much debate has ensued over Plot’s observations; detailed as his notes were, some researchers considered his evidence flimsy at best. They felt it more likely that Plot was describing “fairy rings” caused by common fungi.

Dead Sea Scrolls Uncovered coverWhich brings me to a book entitled The Dead Sea Scrolls Uncovered by Robert Eisenman & Michael Wise (Penguin 1993 ISBN 0 14 02.3250 8). This is a dry, academic work, detailing the manuscripts found at Qumran, in the Middle East, during the 1940s and 1950s. While a few were immediately published for all to see, many more were kept secret for over 35 years by researchers jealously guarding their exclusive hold over these documents. But these two open-minded and determined researchers published over 50 documents, including photographs, translations and interpretations of the manuscripts.

According to Eisenman and Wise, many of the manuscripts display strong links with Kabbalistic thought, the esoteric side of the Judaic belief system. The Qumran community was a sect apart: close-knit, secretive and militaristic. It is postulated by some that the biblical Jesus spent some time at Qumran, being taught the role of the expected Messiah to come — the One who would lead their oppressed nation to victory over the Roman occupiers. The Qumran community was preparing for war and future triumph. We can only guess why it was that these manuscripts were secreted in large clay pots in the lonely caves high above the Dead Sea, where they lay undisturbed for almost 2,000 years, but it is assumed that an imminent attack was feared and the priests sought to preserve their heritage.

Much of the information contained in the manuscripts is allegorical in nature, disguising the military and spiritual aspirations of the Qumran community under a cloak of esotericism. Few parchments are complete; there are many gaps in the scripts which Eisenman and Wise have attempted to bridge using their extensive knowledge of ancient languages. But for all their diligent and painstaking work, many passages remain tantalisingly incomplete.

NoahOne of the documented fragments is known as The Birth of Noah (4Q534-536). The Qumran community regarded Noah very highly. According to Eisenman and Wise, Noah is represented as a “Wisdom figure, or one who understands the Secret Mysteries”; “Noah is … one who is involved in Heavenly ‘ascents’ or ‘journeying’ or at least one who ‘knows’ the Mysteries of ‘the Highest Angels’.”

Further on, in the actual translation of the fragments of the parchment, is the following (dots indicate missing portions; square brackets indicate places where Eisenman and Wise have interpreted and filled in small gaps) “… will be … [H]oly Ones will remem[ber ...] … lig[hts] will be revealed to him … they [will] teach him everything that … human [Wi]sdom, and every wise ma[n] … in the lands (?), and he shall be great..”

And, later: “… of the hand, two … it lef[t] a mark from … barley [and] lentils on … and tiny marks on his thigh … [After tw]o years he will be able to discern one thing from another … In his youth he will be … all of them … [like a ma]n who does not know anyth[ing, until] the time when he shall have come to know the Three Books. [Th]en he will become wise and will be disc[rete ...] a vision will come to him while upon [his] knees (in prayer). And with his father and his forefa[th]ers … life and old age; he will acquire counsel and prudence, [and] he will know the Secrets of mankind. His Understanding will spread to all peoples, and he will know the Secrets of all living things.” (p.p. 33-37.)

When I first came across these passages, I was immediately struck by the possibility that the Noah depicted in these parchments had been subjected to a UFO Close Encounter of the Fourth Kind (CE-4). The authors describe this Noah as “one who is involved in Heavenly ‘ascents’ or ‘journeying’”; the manuscripts themselves say of Noah that “lights will be revealed to him”, and mention “…tiny marks on his thigh.” In many classic CE-4 scenarios, abductees have often found little marks on their limbs or torso.

It is also notable that many CE-4 “victims” find that, after the initial shock of the first experience, their lives are enriched spiritually as more CE-4s happen to them.

Of course, it is easy to read what one wants to read into ancient texts which have been partially destroyed by age, but the phrase “tiny marks on his thigh” is complete, and seems unusually out of place in a manuscript of this nature — unless the marks had great significance. Otherwise, why mention them at all?

The only similar reference to “thigh” in the Bible that I can find is in Genesis 24, in which Abraham, well advanced in years, asks his servant to put his hand under his (Abraham’s) thigh in order to swear a certain oath to “the Lord”. Since first reading this text, I’ve always considered this to be a peculiar procedure — but if Abraham had also been subjected to a CE-4 abduction (interpreted as a meeting with “the angels”) and had been left a mark on his thigh that was similar to Noah’s apparent thigh-mark, perhaps the presence of such a mark became invested with religious importance and linked to “the Lord” and/or his angels.

Pretty Crop CircleThe next few passages of the Noah document seem to be highly significant in both cerealogical and ufological terms. Maybe (with a goodly degree of interpretative licence!) it originally read something like: “… it left a mark from (ON HIGH IN THE) barley and lentils on (THE GROUND), and tiny marks on his thigh …” Significantly, the two sets of markings are connected, by use of the conjunctive “and”. They were both visible effects of the same cause — and it is reasonable to suppose that the same causal mechanism was also, in some way, involved in Noah’s subsequent enlightenment.

The biblical Noah played a fundamental part in the early days of human development. There is no mention in Genesis about Noah ascending to the stars or journeying with the angels, but he was visited by “God”, who gave Noah instructions for the construction of an ark that apparently enabled mankind and many animal species to survive the flood. It’s hard nowadays to take this story literally. But when viewed allegorically, this representation of Noah could be interpreted as depicting a man endowed with a special knowledge. Even if the “ark” was a real vessel, what was the true identity of the “God” that revealed the construction details to him? How could Noah realistically have physically “saved” the many thousands of animals purportedly carried on the ark? They were held in captivity, remember, for something like nine months — seven males and females of every “clean” animal and bird, two of every “unclean” species.

Of course, it would have been much easier if the ark was a DNA repository.

This is not the first time that biblical tales have been interpreted as being disguised UFO visitations. Zechariah Sitchin and Erich von Daniken, amongst others, have been both praised and lambasted in equal measure for daring to promote such ideas.

The proposition that the Dead Sea Scrolls might contain events related both to ufology and cerealogy, hidden for almost two millennia, is likely to be just as contentious. In cerealogical terms, it provides no more evidence than the Mowing Devil case, or Plot’s fairy rings — but equally it is just as vague, and therefore, in my view, just as significant.

This post is adapted from an article I originally wrote in 1994. It’s the only thing I’ve ever written that’s earned me money: an abridged version of the article was used in a crop circle calendar published in the USA some years after it appeared in the Centre for Crop Circle Study’s journal The Circular. I received the princely sum of $50. A copy of the original article (with some annoying typos introduced that were not in the copy from which it was lifted) can still be found on the web at the CropCircleConnector site; I’ve also added it to my Notable Comments Elsewhere section in my Writing Archive.

Rising Sea Levels

When the waters start to rise, how will coastlines around the globe be affected? A clever mash-up of Google Maps and NASA data gives a graphic illustration of what could happen if sea levels rise by up to 14 metres.

Floodmap of London, 14M of sea-level riseGeorge Murphy, who commented on my North Polar Meltdown post, asked if I knew of any maps showing what might happen to coastlines when sea levels begin to rise. He’d had difficulty finding any. I didn’t know of any either, so I did a Google search for nasa climate change maps and found a site put together by Alex Tingle. Located at flood.firetree.net, Alex has managed to combine Google Maps with NASA data to produce a zoomable global map that can display the extent of coastline submersion when sea levels rise, up to 14 metres above current levels. The image on the left shows how London would be afflicted if the river Thames expanded under the pressure of an additional 14 metres of water (click these images to go to the site and see the maps there).

The shaded blue areas on this image show how a significant chunk of eastern England — and a sizeable area of Holland — would disappear if the North Sea rose by 14 metres:

Floodmap of part of England, 14M of sea-level rise

It’s not a perfect system, as Alex discusses at his blog — but it gives enough of an indication to give us all pause for thought.

Floodmap of part of Somerset, 14M of sea-level riseMy part of the world, the levels of north Somerset, has often been flooded in the past — notably, in 1607 — and this image shows how ravaged the area would be if sea levels rose by 14 metres. The shaded area closely coincides with the low-lying area that has been flooded in the past. Of course, when the land floods because of exceptionally high spring tides or crashing storm surges, the body of water subsides quite rapidly (though it leaves utter devastation in its wake, the effects of which last for many years). What this picture shows is the extent of the permanent loss of land that would occur if sea levels rose by 14 metres. My village of Banwell, about four miles inland from the current coastal town of Weston-super-Mare, will be nestling on the shoreline of the new coast. Weston itself will disappear. Worlebury Hill, just to the north of Weston, will become an island. Glastonbury, some ten miles inland, will also find itself all-but surrounded by water and accessible only by a narrow strip of land (currently the A39). Burnham-on-Sea will become Burnham-under-sea; the ancient settlements of Highbridge and Bridgwater — and many more villages and hamlets — will be no more.

Because of limitations in the way Alex has been able to overlay the NASA data on the Google Maps, they can only go up to an increase of 14 metres. This is probably more than enough for current needs — some say there’s going to be about one metre of sea level rise by 2100 — but if most of the ice on Greenland and the ice on the Antarctic continent were to melt away during the centuries to come, then a rise in excess of 25 metres is not out of the question.

And some estimate that if all the ice presently existing on earth melted, sea levels would rise by a staggering 70 metres.

Let’s hope we never go there.

Read my Climate Change posts in chronological order by using the Climate Change Log.