Archive for the ‘blog’ Category
The internet is a wonderful thing but a well-made map is a thing of beauty. For the Eastern European family historian, so often researching in regions where places had two or more names, there is one map company in particular that produces cartographical objects of desire: Höfer Verlag.
The maps I have in mind have probably been created with the German genealogist or ancestral tourist in mind – that is to say, they tend to cover regions in Eastern Europe which had German communities, at least up to WW2 and, in some cases, as in Romania, up to the fall of Communism and beyond. However, notwithstanding this, they are of interest and utility to any family historian with roots of any kind in the region in question, enabling one to see the village or town of origin in its local and regional context. Below, each map is given with its product code and German-language descriptive title, to facilitate ease of identification for would-be purchasers of the maps – no approval of this naming is intended, as nearly all the regions have their own names in Czech, Lithuanian, Polish, Romania, Russian or Serbia, as the case may be.
PL 001 – Westpommern – including the city of Szczecin / Stettin
PL 002 – Ostbrandenburg-Niederschlesien – including the city of Zielona Góra / Grünberg
PL 003 Hinterpommern – including the city of Gdańsk / Danzig
PL 004 Südliches Pommern Netzebruch – including the city of Bydgoszcz / Bromberg
PL 005 Wartheland – including the city of Poznań / Posen
PL 006 Mittelschlesien – including the city of Wrocław / Breslau
PL 007 Oberschlesien – including the city of Opole / Oppeln
PL 010 Südliches Ostpreussen – including the city of Olsztyn / Allenstein
PL 011 West-Ost-Preussen – including the city of Elbląg / Elbing
PL 012 Wartheland-Ost – including the city of Łódź / Lodsch
Russia / Lithuania:
RS 001 Nördliches Ostpreussen mit Memelland – including the city of Kaliningrad / Königsberg
DE 025 Ostseeküste – including the city of Szczecin / Stettin
DE 026 Untere Oder – including the city of Berlin
CS 001 Egerland-Nordböhmen – including the cities of Praha / Prag and Karlovy Vary / Karlsbad
CS 002 Nordböhmen-Ostböhmen – including the cities of Praha / Prag and Liberec / Reichenberg
CS 003 Ostböhmen-Nordmähren – including the city of Olomouc / Olmütz
CS 004 Südliches Egerland-Böhemerwald – including the city of České Budějovice / Budweis
CS 005 Mittelböhmen – including the city of Praha / Prag
CS 006 Nordmähren-Südmähren – including the city of Brno / Brünn
Romania and Serbia:
RO 801 Nördliches Banat und Arader Land – including the city of Timişoara / Temeschburg
RO 802 Westbanat – Banater Bergland
Note that some maps, such as those for Bohemia, overlap rather than tessellate and you may therefore need to choose your map carefully to ensure you obtain the coverage you want.
All maps are in print at the time of writing in November 2014.
The “left-overs of the sword” is the chilling everyday idiom used by Turks to refer to those survivors of the 1915 Armenian Genocide who remained within Turkey. It is also, of course, a tacit acknowledgement of the Genocide even as the Turkish state and its vast apparatus of apologists continue to deny the Genocide.
How did some Armenians become left-overs, or leavings, of the sword, the ones not slaughtered and the ones who did not perish through starvation and exhaustion on the death marches south to the Syrian deserts?
There are many such ways.
Children and teenagers were taken from their families, or from the long straggling columns on the death marches, by Kurds, Arabs and Turks. Some were effectively fostered, brought up with varying degrees of affection, as step-children. Others, maybe a majority, maybe not, were taken as domestic or agricultural servants – a form of free or at least low-maintenance servitude.
Young women were taken by Muslims as wives, concubines or worse. Many of course then bore children.
Others disguised themselves, or hid away, until the worst of the slaughter was over, often up to a decade, and they could come out and then pass as Muslims.
Armenians therefore continued to survive in urban and rural Anatolia, despite the best or worst endeavours of the Turkish state. And many Turks today therefore also have Armenian blood, because great grandmother, grandmother or mother was an Armenian left-over of the sword.
If you are interested in this phenomenon, then there is no better read, and no better source of information, than “My Grandmother”, the family memoir by Turkish, or strictly speaking Turkish-Armenian, lawyer and human rights activist Fethiye Çetin (published in paperback by Verso Books, 2012, in an English-language translation by Maureen Freely). This book starts slowly but builds into a work of great emotional power and poignancy. Fethiye’s grandmother was born in Havav (near Palu in the region of Harput) as Heranuş (Hranush) Gadarian and was aged about 13 years at the time of the Armenian Genocide in 1915, when she was taken by a Turkish gendarme. Two years later, she was married to a Turk named Fikri, and took the forename Seher. She raised four children and, by the time of her death aged 95 years, had multiple grandchildren, including Fethiye, all of whom of course have Armenian blood and DNA. The story of her life is deeply moving.
2015 marks the centenary of the Armenian Genocide at the hands of the Turkish state. The commemorations will make it increasingly difficult for Turkey, even under its present arrogant blockhead of a president, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, to continue to deny the Armenian holocaust. This applies both externally (to the Armenians and to the international community, not least the European Union which Turkey still aspires to join) and also internally. By this I mean that there is hope that there will be a growing grass-roots acknowledgement by ordinary Turks of the terrible crime committed in 1915 – perhaps an honest acknowledgement not only by lawyers, human rights workers and intellectuals, but also by the thousands, probably tens of thousands, of Turks who have Armenian roots, from the left-overs of the sword.
Thought all your ancestors hailed from Boise, Idaho and that you were 100% all-American back to the Bible? Or that you were descended from a seemingly endless line of the mute and inglorious poor of England? Or that your antecedents were stolid burghers of some dull Bavarian backwater since time immemorial? Wrong! You’ve just got back your ancestral DNA results and, boy, what a surprise! You have, in fact, 96% Caucasian DNA! If the thought of research in the Caucasus daunts you, fear not, and read on.
As is well known, the Caucasus is the home of hundreds of peoples and languages, and dozens of religious confessions. There are the Armenians and the Azeris, the Chechens and the Ingush, Laz and Mingrelians, Ossetians and Tats. If you have to pick one Caucasian people for your family tree, the Ghavsars (also transliterated as Qhavsurs) can be warmly recommended. They are an austere but hospitable people tucked away in their forbidding stone towers in the mountain fastness of Ghavsaria. They speak Ghavsarian, one of several languages within the Lezgic group which, sadly, today are bordering on extinction and may have vanished within a generation or two. The Ghavsars revere the Caucasian snowcock and Güldenstädt’s redstart (their national bird, to which, in harsh winters – and which winters are not harsh in Ghavsaria? – they feed tiny, seed-filled, handmade pasta dumplings known as mânti). The men, some of whom still practise transhumance, wear homespun, dyed the electric blue of the gorgeous gentians that carpet the pastures where they graze their small flocks of tur; the shoulders of these shepherds’ capes are so designed as to shed the heavy snow that falls all winter long in these breathless high altitudes above 3,500 metres. The Ghavsars have astounded the very few musicologists who have made it into their high valleys, where bards still intone ancient Homeric epics to the accompaniment of a single-stringed lute. And ethnographers have never been able to unpick the secrets of the Ghavsar syncretic religion, which – possibly to placate the threat from wild, horse-riding zealots from all points of the compass who fill Ghavsar lore back even to the nation’s founding myth – holds Friday, Saturday and Sunday equally sacred.
For the genealogist, however, to have Ghavsari roots is a blessing. Not only do village elders memorise and recite pedigrees of Old Testament proportions, showing who begat whom over the course of centuries, but meticulous registers, known as books of souls, are maintained, and these trace both patrilineal and matrilineal lines back dozens of generations.
For professional help with your Ghavsar family history, do not hesitate to contact us!
In the years leading up to the start of WW1, one could find, eight versts south of Yelizavetpol, an outpost of the Germanic world – the neat, homely village of Helenendorf (ЕленендорфЪ, or Elenendorf, in Russian). In Russian terms, this was a колония, an agricultural colony, settled on land within the Empire regarded as vacant. In this case, the village was established by Swabian Germans in 1819 on the general invitation of Alexander I, grandson of Catherine the Great (who had opened up to colonists many parts of Russia’s vulnerable, newly acquired southern frontier regions). The pioneer settlers of Helenendorf came from places such as Balingen, Degerloch, Reutlingen, Stuttgart, Tübingen and Ulm in today’s Baden-Württemberg state.
Over the course of the long C19th, this German community thrived, specialising in viticulture. The 1910 official gazetteer for Yelizavetpol Guberniya states that, at the most recent count (in 1908), the village had harvested 261,900 poods of grapes and pressed 196,425 vedros of wine (over 2.3m litres). Cognac was produced as well as wine.
To put that in context, in 1910 the village comprised 289 households (charmingly referred to in Russian as дымовъ – smokes, or chimneys – perhaps one would say hearths) with a population of 2,234 (1,106 males and 1,128 females). It had both a Lutheran church (built in the late 1850s) and a smaller prayer house, schooling to secondary level attended by 185 boys and 227 girls, nine shops or market stalls, and seven mills. The mills were used for grain, as the villagers cultivated wheat, barley and oats which would have been ground to flour for local domestic use; however, they were more than self-sufficient and traded their excess agricultural produce. However, prior to the arrival of electricity, some of the mills may also have been used to power irrigation, as a third of the cultivated land (including most or all of that used for grape vines) was irrigated.
The 1910 gazetteer also records livestock headcounts – 340 horses, 689 cows and 271 calves, 2 oxen and 49 pigs. As pork was of course taboo for the surrounding Azeri Muslim population, one supposes that the pigs were for village consumption only, unless also sold to some of the local Armenians and Russians.
Helenendorf was also noted for its skilled craftsmen. As well as agricultural tools and the barrels for the local wine, villagers produced horse-drawn carts and wagons, for both civilian and Russian military use.
Among the surnames to be found in the village upon the eve of WW1 were Aichler, Epp, Hartenstein, Hummel, Kies, Klein, Koch, Krause, Vohrer and Votteler. However, Helelendorf was a so-called Mutterkolonie or “mother colony”. In other words, over time settlers left Helenendorf to found new settlements elsewhere in the Caucasus, for instance the colonies of Elisabetthal (in Georgia), Georgsfeld, Grünfeld and Traubenfeld (all three in today’s Azerbaijan).
Nazi Germany’s Drang nach Osten proved the downfall of all the German communities within this part of the Soviet Union; in 1941 a paranoid Stalin deported the communities en masse to Central Asia and Siberia, to ensure they did not become an enemy within. Today, there are no Germans in Helenendorf (now known as Göygöl), although doubtless their DNA lives on in the local Azeri population. The Lutheran church is now a gym.
For the location of Helenendorf, see this Google Map showing the German communities in the Caucasus.
In September 2014, the Surp Hripsime Armenian Genocide memorial church in Der Zor, Syria was deliberately destroyed by Islamic supremacists.
The Surp Hripsime complex is a modern construction, dating back only to 1989/90, and yet it holds great significance for Armenians of all confessions across the diaspora. It is a memorial to the Armenian Genocide of 1915 but, even more poignantly, its location in Der Zor (also Ter Zor or, in Arabic, Deir ez-Zor) marks one of the spots at which Armenians from across Anatolia who had survived the forced deportation marches arrived in Syria and in many cases either were slaughtered or perished from starvation and disease. At Surp Hripsime, there was not just a church and a genocide memorial monument, but also a crypt containing the remains of thousands of victims of the Genocide and an historically significant archive documenting the Armenian Shoah. Because of this, it became a pilgrimage site, with Armenians gathering annually on 24th April to mourn and commemorate.
Its destruction by Islamic supremacists is therefore not just a statement of intolerance but a calculated insult.
For a map showing the location of Armenian communities and places of worship in Syria, please see Bluebird Research’s GoogleMap. The map was created in 2012. It is not known how many of these churches survive at the time of writing in November 2014, and how many have been abandoned, damaged or destroyed during the ongoing conflict.
To read more, see this article in The Independent.
An abridged version of “Christians and Jews in the Ottoman Empire” was re-issued by Lynne Rienner Publishers in 2013. The book, which was edited by Benjamin Braude & Bernard Lewis, was originally issued in two volumes, vol 1 covering “the Central Lands” (that is to say, Turkey-in-Europe and Anatolia, the heart of the Ottoman Empire) and vol 2 the Arabic-speaking lands, and had been out of print for a couple of decades. The recent re-issue selects from the original two volumes essays by various writers and benefits from a tremendous new introduction by Braude, which encapsulates many of the key themes and conclusions of the book.
Like any serious book bringing together a range of authors, not all readers will find every article of equal interest, but this collection is remarkably consistent in quality, and – with only one exception (for which, see below) – the content is even-handed and non-partisan. Although it is an academic volume, it is sufficiently accessible for a general reader and non-specialist, and any family historian with roots, or an interest,in the Ottoman Empire, and the co-existence of peoples within it, will gain greater insight from reading this than from a stack of superficially more appealing but more one-sided accounts, memoirs and histories written from the point of view of, say, the Greeks of the Empire, or the Armenians, or the Sephardic Jews, or the Copts.
Unfortunately, there is a bad apple in the basket, and that is the penultimate essay, by Feroz Ahmad. It comes as little surprise to find out, from the blurb at the back, that he teaches at Yeditepe University in Istanbul (risible motto: “Following Ataturk’s renaissance”). Ahmad is Turkish not by birth but by citizenship, and obviously went native, just like the American academic Justin McCarthy before him who also swallowed the Turkish state’s line on history and was decorated accordingly with the “order of merit” bauble. With sadly few exceptions, Turkish historiographers peddle a Turkish supremacist or apologist version of the past. In Ahmad’s essay, therefore, the poor and oppressed of the late Ottoman Empire were the Turks, and their exploiters and oppressors were the Armenians and Greeks. Similarly, the Muslim rural poor of Eastern Anatolia are all Turks – certainly not Kurds, who, as is customary in Turkish historiography, are subsumed silently within the category of Turks unless a scapegoat or an Other is required. Likewise, no distinction is drawn between the various shades of Islam within Anatolia, which was anything but monolithic – for Ahmad, if you were not Armenian or Greek in Anatolia, clearly you could only be a Sunni Turk.
Anyway, if you ignore Ahmad’s essay, the remainder of “Christians and Jews in the Ottoman Empire” makes for a balanced and nuanced insight into the Ottoman Empire and is highly recommended to all genealogists who would like to develop a greater understanding of Armenian, Greek or Jewish ancestors in the Near East.
Fırıncı mahallesi was one of 108 recognised neighbourhoods in Kayseri in 1872. Its name means simply “bakers’ neighbourhood” and it was a small, entirely Armenian quarter of the town, comprising just five streets with 23 taxpaying households, of which 21 are named in the defter. These households are shown in the table below.
Some thoughts on these householders:
Two of the streets appear to be named after the principal family in residence – the Kazandjian household in Kazancı Sokağı and the Kullukian or Koulloukian household in Güllük Sokağı (“roses street”).
The occupations of four of the householders are given – goldsmith, weaver, confectioner, sawyer. A fifth man – Ohanes, the sole taxpaying resident in Gümüşoğlu Sokağı – is either a barber or bears the surname Berber or Berberian – the original record does not make it clear. He may even have the surname Gumushian, after which the street is named. Given the name of this mahalle, one would assume that at least one of the men without a given occupation was a baker.
Three out of the 21 are women – two described as daughters (kızı in Turkish) and one as a wife (zevcesi), and presumably are respectively spinsters and a widow.
Four of the male householders have their forename prefixed with Hacı, which would normally indicate that they had performed the pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
Presently I am working on interpreting, understanding and analysing records relating to Armenians in an 1872 defter, or taxation document, from Kayseri in Turkey (Gesaria or Kesaria in Armenian). The records are arranged by mahalle and, within that, by street. The taxpaying householders in each street are then listed. There were 8,119 taxpaying households in total in Kayseri in 1872.
Kayseri had a total of 108 mahalleler or neighbourhoods, comprising between 16 and 352 households each, with the mean being 75 homes. By no means all neighbourhoods were the homogeneous ethnic or religious groups I had expected. 67 neighbourhoods were exclusively Turkish, 24 were Armenian, two were Kurdish and one was Greek. However, Greeks and Armenians lived together in some Christian quarters and, more surprisingly perhaps, there were seven neighbourhoods with a mixed Armenian/Turkish population.
The original archival material is in Osmanlı Turkish, written using a modified Arabic alphabet, and has been transliterated and transcribed into modern Turkish, which of course uses the Latin alphabet. One needs to understand the pronunciation of certain Turkish letters to be able to match them with the approximately corresponding letters used in English to spell Armenian names in transliteration. For example, the Turkish letter c may be the equivalent of j or dj, and ç and ş represent the sounds ch and sh respectively. Turkish vowels are also problematic, not least because these were poorly catered for in Osmanlı Turkish and therefore there may not be a one-to-one correlation. The undotted ı is usually pronounced short like the e in English “bed” (while the dotted i is used for the long vowel sound at the start of İstanbul, or in the English word “bead”).
Armenian and Greek personal names are rendered in Turkish style, using the suffix -oğlu to indicate “son of”, rather than an Armenian or Greek surname ending. The entries are terse and it is not always clear whether a surname has already been assumed by a family or, contrarily, a simple system of patronymics is still in use – for example, in the case of entries in the format “Manük oğlu Serkis”, it is not certain whether the individual in question is Sarkis Manoukian, or simply a Sarkis son of Manouk with no settled surname. Contrarily, when the entry is in the format “Demiroğlu Karabet”, it seems clear that the man’s name is Karabet (or Garabed) Demirian.
One problem is that there is no single standard spelling of Armenian names – not only does the language have its Western and Eastern variants, but there can be several (sometimes many) ways of transliterating the same name into English.
I began by looking for surnames I knew from previous research to be associated with the town and/or sanjak of Kayseri. I was able to find only about one quarter of these. Either the other names were not from Kayseri itself but an outlying town or village, or they had not been taken by 1872 (which seems less likely).
Some of the names in the defter are relatively simple to match to modern Armenian names, for example:
Arzuman oğlu Parsıh = Barsegh Arzumanian or Arzoumanian
Beyleroğlu Mardiros = Mardiros Beylerian
Erkiletlioğlu Karabet = Karabet Erkiletlian
Gürünlüoğlu Kesbar ve Avidis = (brothers) Kasbar and Avedis Gurunlian or Gourounlian
Kalaycıoğlu Mardiros = Mardiros Kalaydjian
Keşişoğlu Kalus = Calouste Keshishian
Minasoğlu Hacı Agop = Agop Minasian
Odabaşıoğlu Agop = Agop Odabashian
Şahinoğlu Karabet = Karabet Shahinian
Seferoğlu Parsıh ve Artin = (brothers) Barsegh and Artin Seferian
Other names are less confident matches:
Acemoğlu Karabet = Karabet Ajemian or Adjemian
Dökmecioğlu Agop = Agop Dekmedjian, Dekmejian, Deukmejian or Deukmedjian
Taşçıoğlu Ohanes = Ohanes Tashchian or Tashjian
The records mainly involve heads of household, as the taxpayers, and these are usually men – however, there are some women, perhaps mostly widows or women who had inherited property or had established a charitable trust (vakif).
We have created a Google Map showing the locations of the principal Greek communities in Egypt from the mid-19th to the mid-20th centuries, as well as some of the source locations from which the immigrants hailed. Many came from islands and from those Greek areas of population still at that time within the Ottoman Empire.
A screenshot of the Egyptian part of the map is shown below:
Who Do You Think You Are? Live returned to the Kensington Olympia exhibition centre in London this week. Last year, an estimated 12 to 13,000 visitors came through the turnstiles during the three-day event running from a Friday through to a Sunday; this year, the schedule changed to run Thursday to Saturday and the organisers are presumably hoping that this will generate even greater ticket receipts.
Travelling to Olympia by public transport, one has, as always, the sense of London as a global city in which are represented most of the peoples and languages upon earth. By contrast, stepping into the exhibition hall, it’s clear that recreational family history in England, if this its single biggest annual fair is anything to go by, is still an overwhelmingly white pursuit. It’s true that each year there are a few more visitors from among England’s black and Asian communities, but there is little on offer for them, not from any exclusionist bent but simply due to the paucity of records available and online. Most visitors with Caribbean and Indian Sub-continent roots of course are from families which arrived in UK during or after the 1950s – in other words, recent history for which few vital records are available other than some incoming ships’ passenger lists in the BT26 record series at The National Archives in Kew.
I took a question from one visitor who had already found some excellent information from archives in Guyana, from 1812 to 1966 the Crown Colony of British Guiana, about his indentured labourer ancestors from Madras. In the papers he had obtained, his ancestors were described as being “Gentoo” and he had found rather limited and contradictory advice about the meaning of this term – some said it was a caste, some that it merely meant Hindu (as opposed to Muslim). I recommended Hobson-Jobson, that marvellous dictionary cum encyclopaedia of the era of the British Raj, first published in 1886. I was quite relieved and pleased upon returning home to pick up my copy and find that there were two pages of tightly composited print on the etymology and nuances of meaning of the term Gentoo – specifically, it transpires that it was used of Telugu speakers to the north and north-west of Madras.
The other questions I dealt with were a very mixed bag. Aside from the standard questions about English, Welsh, Irish and Scottish ancestry, I had interesting conversations about: a Jewish immigrant family from Czernowitz; a Polish forced labourer and later Displaced Person who settled in England in the late 1940s; a couple of German families who were known only to have arrived in England from an unknown place of origin in “Prussia”; and what appeared to be a Jewish Catholic convert from Poland who emigrated to East London, South Africa and married and had issue by an Irishman there.
My favourite stalls were still at the show – the indomitable Jewish Genealogical Society of Great Britain; the Anglo-German Family History Society; and especially pleasingly, looking stronger than ever, the Polish Kresy-Siberia group with an expanded range of publications, including Polish Resettlement Camps in England and Wales, by Zosia and Jurek Biegus (pub PB Software, 2013), which looks like recommended reading for anyone whose parents or grandparents came to UK from Poland at the end of WW2.
Mayreni Publishing is a small independent publishing house based in Monterey CA, specialising in Armenian interest books. Their “Khodorchur: Lost Paradise”, published in 2012, has just come to my attention. It is a translation of a 1964 Armenian-language original and is an ethnographic study of Khodorchur, a cluster of 13 Armenian Catholic villages surrounded by Hemshin (Armenian Muslim) communities in the old kaza of Kiskim (now Yusufeli) in what is today far north-eastern Turkey.
The people of Khodorchur largely perished in the Armenian Genocide, being deported and murdered during June 1915 – only an estimated 100 or so from the pre-Genocide population of more than 8,000 are believed to have survived. “Khodorchur: Lost Paradise” is a testament to that vanished community.
Like many specialist works of Armenian (and other) ethnography and cultural history, “Khodorchur” is hard to come by and, not surprisingly given its 652 pages, a little pricey – you may need to borrow it on an inter-library loan.
The location of Khodorchur – today known in Turkish as Sırakonaklar – can be seen on this Bluebird Research Google Map of Hemshin communities.
Our latest map shows some of the main Vlach settlements in SE Europe – especially those where Albania, Greece and Macedonia meet – plus the mid-/late 1920s settlements in Dobrudja, Romania. There are many more settlements not shown on this map – potentially hundreds if not a thousand or more across Albania and Greece in particular.
With the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire and the construction of nation states with enforced international borders, Vlachs have largely had to give up their transhumant lifestyle. Most are bilingual or trilingual, speaking their own Vlach or Aroumanian language plus the official state language and often a minority language – for example, the Vlachs in SE Albania may speak Albanian and Greek or Macedonian as well as their Vlach mother tongue.
The surname Bashaw is not common in Britain. For instance, there are only 23 registrations of birth in the countrywide index for England & Wales from the start of civil registration in 1837 to 2006. The name is bona fide, although ancestry.co.uk’s remark that it is the “Americanized spelling of French Bachard (see Bachar). Probably an altered spelling of German Beschore (see Bashore)” isn’t very helpful. The houseofnames.com, hardly a reliable source, states vaguely that “The origins of the Bashaw name lie with England’s ancient Anglo-Saxon culture. It comes from when the family lived in Derbyshire, where they were found since the early Middle Ages before the Norman Conquest in 1066”. However, it also mentions that the names may be a variant of Bagshaw and Bagshott, which is more credible.
However, names are assumed for all sorts of reasons and at all times, and Bashaw is a case in point. Ishmael James Bashaw was buried in 1815 at the burial ground of the Gildencroft Quaker Meeting House in Norwich. However, the register records that he was a non-member, i.e. not a Quaker. Other records here and there show his marriage to Elizabeth Fornish in Stamford in 1776, and the births of (some of) their children, George, Ann, Esther, James, Charlotte and John, between 1777 and 1795. The pattern of births shows the family moving from Wisbech to Spalding to Norwich to Framlingham to Colchester. They appear to have been mobile if not itinerant, and not wealthy – indeed the parish authorities in Framlingham conducted a settlement examination in September 1788 to establish whether Bashaw and his family could claim relief in the parish, or could be lawfully palmed off on to a different parish.
In fact, in an effort to alleviate this want, Bashaw wrote a short book, published in 1797, entitled: The Turkish refugee: being a narrative of the life, sufferings, deliverances, and conversion, of Ishmael Bashaw, a Mahometan merchant, from Constantinople, who was taken prisoner by the Spaniards, and made a wonderful escape to England, where, having become a convert to the Christian faith, he was publicly baptized, with the approbation of the Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Lincoln.
Bashaw was apparently aged 80 years at death and had been born in the town of Edirne, or Adrianople, in Turkey. When he arrived in Britain, his name was not Bashaw at all – that is an anglicised version. Bashaw comes from Beşe. However, this is not a name either, but a kind of honorary title: beşe is a variant of paşa, which is usually anglicised as pasha. Moreover, we know that although Bashaw was a “Mahometan” or Muslim, in earlier life he was a janissary. Although the blood levy or devşirme was over by the time he was born circa 1735, the fact that he was a janissary raises the possibility that he wasn’t originally a Muslim, and wasn’t a Turk either – many in the janissary corps were still Christians, who were converted and took Islamic names such as Ismail. As Bashaw was originally from Edirne, if he wasn’t an ethnic Turk, one would have to assume that he would have been an ethnic Bulgarian or Greek by birth or less likely a Serb or Albanian.
The list below shows Armenians naturalised in Britain between the years 1845 and 1884. Nearly all were from the Ottoman Empire, with only two or three exceptions from Austro-Hungary, Persia and Georgia. It can be assumed that the great majority were merchant traders, involved with import/export and shipping. The early Armenian community in England was concentrated in Manchester.
Caveat emptor: the list may not be complete for the period it covers, and it is possible that some individuals given in the list may not be ethnic Armenian.
Dates given are in British format i.e. DD/MM/YYYY.
|date naturalised||name / from / address if given|
|13/03/1847||Manouk Capamagian (Constantinople)|
|13/03/1847||Hatzik Capamagian (Constantinople)|
|10/05/1847||Hussep Capamagian (Constantinople)|
|10/05/1847||Artin Momgian (Constantinople)|
|10/05/1847||Ovanes Ovaghimian (Constantinople)|
|10/05/1847||Boghos Sdepanian (Constantinople)|
|02/07/1847||Demetrius Spartali (Smyrna)|
|22/07/1847||Boghos Mirasyedi (Constantinople)|
|01/02/1849||Nazaret Tomas (Armenia)|
|01/02/1849||Manouk Ohannes (Armenia)|
|15/10/1859||Essai Anouckian (Turkey)|
|17/03/1860||Ovanes Esayi Spartali (Turkey)|
|10/12/1860||Ovannes Agopian (Turkey), Manchester|
|21/10/1861||Arthur Mushlian (Turkey)|
|19/09/1863||Diran Ekisler (Turkey)|
|25/11/1862||Babo Babayan (Turkey)|
|10/12/1862||Nishan Harentz (Turkey)|
|01/07/1863||John Peters (Turkey)|
|22/12/1863||Nicholas Demetrius Spartali (Austria)|
|10/02/1864||Boghos Vartanian (Georgia)|
|17/03/1864||Mardiros Harentz (Constantinople)|
|16/06/1864||Agop Melikian (Turkey)|
|16/06/1864||Ghatchik Sinanian (Turkey)|
|02/03/1865||Meguerditch Hovanessian (Turkey)|
|01/04/1865||Mesrob Samuel Samuelian (Turkey)|
|21/04/1865||Haron Varbetian (Turkey)|
|13/06/1866||Gregoir Antoin Hunanian (Constantinople)|
|01/04/1867||Abraham Gumuchian (Turkey)|
|19/02/1868||Kevork Ohannessian (Constantinople)|
|18/01/1869||Avedis Harentz (Turkey)|
|07/05/1870||Krikor Gumushguerdan (Turkey)|
|05/12/1870||Bedross Kricorissian (Turkey)|
|19/12/1870||Ohannes Andreasian (Turkey)|
|23/03/1871||Melcon Agop Maxudian (Smyrna)|
|09/05/1871||Agop Kevork Myrmirian (Turkey)|
|24/05/1871||Essayi Essayan (Turkey)|
|24/05/1871||Abraham Gumuchian (Turkey)|
|17/07/1871||Karnik Ovanes Ovaghimian (Turkey)|
|23/09/1871||Garabet Nishan Eliazarian (Turkey)|
|15/06/1872||Meguerditch Andon Capamagian (Turkey)|
|13/03/1873||Manouk Capamagian (Constantinople)|
|15/08/1873||Sarkis Nishan Eliazarian (Turkey)|
|25/08/1873||Ovanes Esayi Spartali (Turkey)|
|01/05/1874||Mardiros Arabian (Turkey)|
|01/05/1874||Manouk Maranian (Turkey)|
|08/06/1874||Krikor Gumushguerdan (Turkey)|
|24/09/1874||James Papazian (Turkey)|
|28/06/1875||George Agop Essayan (Turkey)|
|20/09/1875||Megriditch Beshiktaslian (Turkey)|
|01/11/1875||Mardiros Tokatian (Turkey)|
|17/10/1876||Mihran Papazian (Turkey)|
|23/10/1876||Peniamin Mosditchian (Turkey)|
|27/10/1876||Meguerditch Kevork Essayan (Turkey)|
|04/09/1877||Mihran Kevork Capamagian (Russia)|
|06/09/1877||Dicran Oumedian (Turkey)|
|02/01/1878||Krikor Krikorian (Turkey)|
|09/01/1878||Krikor Couyoumdjian (Turkey)|
|15/01/1878||Carnick Nishanian (Turkey)|
|15/08/1878||Haroutioun Sourgoudje (Turkey), London|
|16/12/1878||Stephen Agop Spartali (Turkey), Manchester|
|19/02/1879||Sukiass Gregoire Sukiassian (Turkey), London|
|13/11/1879||Avidis Garboushian (Turkey), Portsea|
|06/09/1880||Pacradooni Kaloost Vartan (Turkey), Edinburgh|
|19/01/1882||Sarkis Yaldesgian (Turkey), Manchester|
|03/10/1883||Bedros Aslanian (Turkey), London|
|03/03/1884||Joseph Melikian (Turkey), Manchester|
|02/08/1884||Mardiros Hovanessian (Turkey), Manchester|
|30/08/1884||Hamparsoum Mouradian (Turkey), Manchester|
|28/01/1885||Zakaria Bakirgian (Turkey), Manchester|
|08/09/1885||Gabriel Sukias Dobrashian (Turkey), Banbury|
All naturalizations in Britain from 24th August 1886 were published in the London Gazette, the official journal of government. For the first decade or so, when naturalizations were few in number, this took the form of a monthly alphabetical list of no longer than one or two pages, usually published in the first issue of the Gazette each calendar month. Later, the lists grew longer and longer, 10 pages or more, populated in particular by increasing numbers of Jews settling from continental Europe and especially Russia.
Within the 35-year period, from the first appearance of naturalizations in 1886 up to 1920, over 140 Armenians were naturalised in Britain. Many of these were resident in the greater Manchester area and were of the merchant class. In the Gazette, these Armenians are usually described as being subjects of Turkey (until the late 1890s) and then of the Ottoman Empire (until the end of the First World War) but interestingly in 1919 and 1920 these terms are replaced by Armenia, in official recognition of the existence of the fleeting modern nation state the First Republic of Armenia, soon to be absorbed into the USSR. Of course, some Armenians naturalised in Britain came from beyond the Ottoman Empire – there are several in the list from Persia and others from Bulgaria, Egypt, Italy, Romania and USA.
Note that some of the women in the list will be British widows of Armenians, retaking British nationality.
Bear in mind that the names shown are as spelt in the Gazette and often will differ from modern spellings as transliterated from either Western or Eastern Armenian. For example, Mgrdich or Mkrtich never appears as such, because the running together of consonants without separating vowels makes the name too awkward in English. Similarly, Hagop (Hakob) or Agop may be replaced by an English equivalent such as Jacob.
Finally, a word of caution: no guarantees are given that the list is complete for the period it covers, and it is possible that some individuals on the list (over and above the widows) may not be ethnic Armenian.
Dates given are in British format i.e. DD/MM/YYYY.
|name / formerly subject of / address / occupation if given|
|20/03/1888||Dikran Dadurian (Persia), Chorlton-on-Medlock|
|15/08/1888||Ovannes Agopian (Turkey), Manchester|
|15/10/1888||David Bezazian (Turkey), Manchester|
|15/10/1888||Dikran Mouradian (Turkey), Manchester|
|30/04/1889||Kirkor Odabachian (Turkey), Edinburgh|
|27/08/1889||Givan Manoukian (Turkey), Manchester|
|17/03/1890||Onnig Kricorissian (Turkey), Manchester|
|08/11/1890||Mihran Mouradian (Armenia), Southport|
|22/05/1891||Christopher Balian (Turkey), Shepherd’s Bush|
|07/04/1892||Dicran Nahabedian (Turkey), Manchester|
|06/09/1892||Artin Dabaghian (Turkey), Stretford|
|26/02/1893||Zareh Stepan Iplicjian (Turkey), Buxton|
|20/04/1893||Tigrane Haroutune Funduklian (Turkey), Manchester|
|16/08/1893||Edward Caracashian (Turkey), Manchester|
|27/11/1893||Raphael Garabed Constantian (Turkey), Cheetham Hill|
|21/03/1894||Kevork Ohannessian (Turkey), British Seamen’s Hospital, Constantinople|
|07/08/1894||Dicran Stephen Iplicjian (Turkey), Manchester|
|04/10/1894||Ghiragos Nazaret Odabashian (Turkey), Manchester|
|16/04/1895||Artin Kassapian (Turkey), Bradford|
|24/06/1895||Minas Tcheraz (Turkey), Kensington|
|27/07/1895||Joseph Hanemian (Turkey), Ortakoy, Constantinople|
|05/09/1895||Stepan Hagop Astardjian (Turkey), Manchester|
|08/10/1895||Serope Biman Seropian (U S A), Nenagh, Co Tipperary|
|09/12/1895||Vincent Joseph Mahdjoubian (Turkey), Bradford|
|14/03/1896||Agop Paragamian (Turkey), Manchester|
|19/03/1896||Jacob Politeyan (Ottoman Empire), Tufnell Park|
|13/05/1896||Manoog Dickran Dingian (Turkey), Brighton|
|21/08/1896||Baghos Baghdasar Tahmisian (Turkey), Balham|
|03/02/1897||Aram Hovannessian (Turkey), Didsbury|
|22/04/1897||Marcar Aznavorian (Turkey), Didsbury|
|06/08/1897||Moses Agop (Turkey), Tynemouth|
|15/09/1897||Krickor Garabet Topalian (Turkey), Chorlton-cum-Hardy|
|16/10/1897||Manouk Kouyoumdjian (Bulgaria), Whalley Range|
|06/01/1898||Hagop Garabed Gumuchian (Turkey), Manchester|
|06/03/1900||Charles Samuel Vartan (Ottoman Empire), Perth Infirmary|
|23/04/1900||Aram Georg Hovsebian (Persia), Withington|
|26/02/1901||Abel or Apik Cernemossian (Ottoman Empire), Hanover Square|
|15/04/1901||Haroutune Hagope Yazijian (Ottoman Empire), Leeds|
|08/06/1901||Hatchik Sekian (Ottoman Empire), Chorlton-on-Medlock|
|17/08/1901||Leon Checkemian (Turkey), Edinburgh|
|07/11/1901||Hatchig Guessarian (Persia), Manchester|
|25/02/1902||Michee Arabian (Ottoman Empire), West Didsbury|
|01/12/1902||Calouste Gulbenkian (Ottoman Empire), Lancaster Gate|
|23/12/1902||Simon Chakiriam (Ottoman Empire), West Didsbury|
|11/02/1903||Albert Percy Michael Narlian (Italy), Chiswick|
|11/02/1903||Anthony Ephraim Narlian (Ottoman Empire), Chiswick|
|21/02/1903||Kevork Balabanian (Ottoman Empire), Glasgow|
|10/03/1903||Agop Yeritzian (Ottoman Empire), Regent’s Park|
|15/04/1903||Petros Tonapetean (Ottoman Empire), Shepherd’s Bush|
|14/05/1903||Mighirditch Haritioun Pantikian (Persia), Stretford|
|27/07/1903||Henry Samuel Rogers Boyajian (Ottoman Empire), Lytham|
|29/10/1903||Garabed Krikor Gulbenkian (Ottoman Empire), Notting Hill|
|20/11/1903||Serope Damadian (Persia), Didsbury|
|22/03/1904||Bedros Mardiros Farishian (Turkey), Grays|
|22/04/1904||John Arabian (Ottoman Empire), Russell Square|
|03/05/1904||Haroutioun Frenkian (Romania), West Didsbury|
|06/04/1905||Hrant Mihran Iplicjian (Ottoman Empire), Knutsford|
|03/07/1905||Kevork Arabian (Ottoman Empire), Manchester|
|05/07/1905||Diran Deuvletian (Ottoman Empire), Withington|
|25/08/1905||Nerces Ohannes Kalpakdjian (Persia), Chorlton-cum-Hardy|
|21/12/1905||Megerdich John Mahmourian (Ottoman Empire), Urmston|
|21/02/1906||Onnik Kirkor Shahbasian (Ottoman Empire), Renfrew|
|07/03/1906||Setrak Levon Dinguilian (Ottoman Empire), Clapham Junction|
|22/03/1906||Arshag Manashian (Persia), Urmston|
|25/04/1906||Garo Keshishian (Ottoman Empire), Willesden Green|
|01/06/1906||Avedis Aprahamian (Ottoman Empire), Shepherd’s Bush|
|03/08/1906||Thomas Kricorian Papazian (Ottoman Empire), Cardiff, serving in a British ship|
|29/10/1906||Carnik Garabed Hanemian (Ottoman Empire), Fallowfield|
|23/01/1907||Kevork Krikorian (Ottoman Empire), Marylebone|
|21/03/1907||Dadjad Ajderian (Ottoman Empire), Whalley Range|
|19/04/1907||Agop Garabet Agopian (Ottoman Empire), Didsbury|
|03/05/1907||Setrac Mardiros Papasian (Ottoman Empire), West Didsbury|
|19/06/1907||Hovhannes Kamberian (Ottoman Empire), Withington|
|24/08/1907||Joseph Simonian (Ottoman Empire), Fulham|
|04/09/1907||Avedis Mateos Jamgochian (Ottoman Empire), Fallowfield|
|11/10/1907||Hagop or James Taranto (Ottoman Empire), Tufnell Park|
|06/11/1907||Haiganoush Arabian (doubtful), Chorlton-cum-Hardy|
|06/11/1907||Mihran Arabian (doubtful), Chorlton-cum-Hardy|
|06/11/1907||Onnik or John Arabian (doubtful), Chorlton-cum-Hardy|
|25/08/1908||Moushegh Keshishian (Ottoman Empire), West Didsbury|
|20/10/1908||Nishan Movses (Ottoman Empire), Roath, serving in a British ship|
|06/11/1908||Gregory Agopian (Ottoman Empire), Southport|
|14/01/1909||Edouard Andon Mahdjoubian (Ottoman Empire), Bradford|
|13/03/1909||Oscar Leon Sarafian (Ottoman Empire), West Kensington|
|14/05/1909||Zenope Tchekenian (Ottoman Empire), Roath|
|22/07/1909||Dikran Arslanian (Ottoman Empire), Cricklewood|
|16/09/1909||Andon Kalpakdjian (Ottoman Empire), Chorlton-cum-Hardy|
|29/09/1909||Pilimon Iplikdjian (Persia), Manchester|
|08/11/1909||Carapiet Mackertich George (Persia), Clapton|
|19/11/1909||Vahan Sarkis Gulbenkian (Ottoman Empire), Hyde Park|
|07/12/1909||Krikor Margos Jamgotchian (Ottoman Empire), Northwood|
|10/12/1909||Onnik Balekdjian (Ottoman Empire), Eccles|
|10/12/1909||Armenag Topalian (Ottoman Empire), Fallowfield|
|15/02/1910||John Carabet (Ottoman Empire), Cardiff, serving in a British ship|
|09/05/1910||Ezepos Garabed Benlian (Ottoman Empire), Harlesden|
|09/06/1910||Haroutune Kalevradjian (Ottoman Empire), St Leonard’s|
|10/06/1910||Mardiros Garabet Benlian (Ottoman Empire), Kensington|
|01/07/1910||Kevork George Ekserdjian (Ottoman Empire), Charing Cross Road|
|26/09/1910||Mark Bakirgian (Ottoman Empire), West Didsbury|
|02/01/1911||Zareh Avedis Hatchadour Ekisler (Ottoman Empire), Bayswater|
|15/02/1911||Stephen Papelian (Persia), Chorlton-on-Medlock|
|04/07/1911||Murat Marcus Mamourian (Ottoman Empire), Ashton-under-Lyne|
|31/07/1911||Missak Bedross Baltaian (Ottoman Empire), Fallowfield|
|09/10/1911||Mihran Krikor Gudenian (U S A), West Kensington|
|13/10/1911||Ohannes Arakel Akaghaian (Persia), Stockport|
|11/12/1911||Walter Bogosian (Ottoman Empire), Dunston, serving in a British ship|
|18/12/1911||Diran Gumuchdjian (Ottoman Empire), Levenshulme|
|03/01/1912||Mardick Logophete Baliozian (Ottoman Empire), Liverpool|
|16/01/1912||Garabed Yeghia Yardumian (Ottoman Empire), Liverpool|
|13/03/1912||Khosrof Seferian (Ottoman Empire), Chorlton-cum-Hardy|
|29/05/1912||Avedis Keuleyan (Ottoman Empire), Great Crosby|
|25/09/1912||Gregory Benon Garabed Cherkezian (Ottoman Empire), Whalley Range|
|03/02/1913||Leon Bedros Djamouzian (Ottoman Empire), Eccles|
|06/07/1912||Sinian Pedros (Ottoman Empire), Cardiff, serving in a British ship|
|25/06/1913||Garabed Bishirgian (Ottoman Empire), Westminster|
|12/07/1913||Balthazar Garabed Agopian (Ottoman Empire), West Didsbury|
|16/10/1913||Markar Dikran Markarian (Persia), Chorlton-cum-Hardy|
|19/12/1913||Gerald Zareh M Ekserdjian (Ottoman Empire), Charing Cross Road|
|23/04/1914||Tackvor Thomas Magaryan (Ottoman Empire), Newcastle upon Tyne, model-maker|
|29/04/1914||Gregory Garmirian (Ottoman Empire), Willesden Green, Oriental merchant|
|04/05/1914||Hrand Kricor Missirian (Ottoman Empire), Southport, Company director|
|08/05/1914||Nihran Malkhas Dabaghian (Ottoman Empire), Chapel-en-le-Frith, shipping merchant|
|15/07/1914||Yervant Hagop Iskender (Ottoman Empire), Pitlochry, merchant|
|05/02/1915||Harutun Batmazian (Turkey), Cork, manufacturing confectioner|
|09/02/1915||Mihran Balian (Turkey), Earl’s Court, accountant & bookkeeper|
|08/03/1915||Hagop Kehyaian (Ottoman Empire), Willesden, import & export merchant|
|23/03/1915||Mugurditch Mugurian (Ottoman Empire), Camden Square, motor cab proprietor & driver|
|09/04/1915||Sarkis Hagop Coliapanian (Ottoman Empire), Ilford, mercantile clerk|
|02/12/1915||Stephens Paul Stephens (Persia), City of London, merchant|
|16/02/1916||Eliza Ann Boyajian (Ottoman Empire), St John’s Wood|
|16/02/1916||Isabella Catherine Boyajian (Ottoman Empire), St John’s Wood, artist|
|21/08/1916||Rand Artin Sarkis Dedey (Turkey, Armenia), Blundellsands, clerk|
|08/08/1917||Mesrovb Barseghian (Persia), Wark-on-Tyne, medical practitioner|
|28/09/1917||Annie Maria Mirakian (Russia), Edgware|
|08/01/1918||Helen Chobanian (Ottoman Empire), Portsmouth, nurse|
|08/07/1918||Kevork Kriss Chavooshian (Egypt), Hove, pharmaceutical chemist|
|15/07/1919||Haig Jacvor Madanian (Armenia), Liverpool, cotton agent|
|04/10/1919||Lucy Elizabeth Dayian (Armenia), West Kensington|
|13/10/1919||Annie Mirakian (Armenia), Leamington, nurse|
|25/10/1919||Gregory Shnorhk (Armenia), Wallasey, fruit packer|
|18/12/1919||France Lucy Thoumaian (Armenia), Chigwell, school teacher|
|21/02/1920||Edward Sevagian (Persia), Harlesden, interpreter|
|26/02/1920||Manuel Tutungean (Armenia), Withington, buyer of cotton goods|
|13/03/1920||Apcar Jacob Galustian (Armenia), Glasgow, medical practitioner|
|31/03/1920||Thomas K Mugerditchian (Ottoman Empire, Armenia), c/o G.S.I., Cairo, interpreter|
|02/07/1920||Charles Garabet Sarkis Hamamdjian (Armenia), Marylebone|
|29/09/1920||Leon Haig Simjian (Egypt), Eccles, shipper & exporter|
Recently I have been looking through records held at The National Archives in Kew, London relating to the Kindertransport and other continental European refugees who arrived in Britain in the late 1930s and early 1940s, fleeing the gathering Nazi supremacist storm in Germany and Austria and the countries they annexed, such as Czechoslovakia.
While looking at these, I was surprised to see a distinctively Armenian name leap out at me – Shoushan Piranian. The references to this refugee date to the winter of 1943/44, when she seems to have applied to become a Guider in the Girl Guides Association. The records give a date of birth in March 1905, so she clearly wasn’t a Kind. Her contact address was care of Minto House School, Birkenhead Road, Meols, Hoylake in Cheshire.
Later Shoushan became a naturalised British subject – the notice of her naturalisation on 6th May 1947 was published in The London Gazette on 24th June 1947. The entry states that she was a teacher and a subject of Turkey.
Exactly what became of her thereafter isn’t known to me, but she did not marry or, if she did, she retained the surname Piranian. She appears in the death indexes as Shoushan Varteni Piranian – her death was registered in March 1984 in Croydon, Surrey.
However, curiously, she seems to have emigrated to Argentina at one time. The outgoing passenger lists (record series BT27 at The National Archives) contain two references to her. In the first, she boarded the “Duquesa” bound from London to Buenos Aires on 11th September 1958. She travelled first class. Her date of birth is shown as 25th March 1905, she is described as a single woman, a teacher, and still resident in Hoylake. The “Duquesa” appears to have been a heavyweight refrigerated cargo ship owned by Houlder Brothers. She arrived back in London aboard the same ship on Christmas Day 1959 for a visit – her UK care of address is in London W2. On 2nd February 1960, Shoushan set sail again, this time from London to Buenos Aires aboard the “Hornby Grange”, another refrigerated-meat cargo ship owned by Houlders. The difference this time is that both her country of permanent residence, and her country of intended future residence, are given as Argentina. Her contract address is in Bromley, Kent. She is still a teacher and again she is sailing first class. As both these two vessels had limited passenger capacity, probably the first class cabins were the only available – the meat would have been carried where steerage or standard class would have been on passenger liners!
The BT27 record series, and its counterpart BT26 for incoming vessels, finish in 1960, so it is not possible to trace online Shoushan’s subsequent return to UK and possible other movements. Presumably, however, Argentina did not prove entirely to her liking, and she returned to England. Equally unknown are the precise circumstances which brought Shoushan Piranian to Britain – was it the 1915 Armenian Genocide, during which she would have been a 10-year old girl, or the subsequent mass population exchange arranged between Turkey and Greece, or some other event?
The 2013 Who Do You Think You Are? Live event at London’s Olympia exhibition centre in February didn’t seem quite as busy as in previous years – perhaps the winter cold and more especially the ongoing economic downturn kept some punters away this year.
Trade was still brisk for many exhibitors, including some which one might say contribute to the recession, by minimising the tax they pay to the Government Exchequer. While campaigners in organisations such as UK Uncut focus their attention, quite rightly, on multinational suspects such as Amazon, Starbucks and the big banking corporations with their casino operations and over-compensated executives, tax evasion and/or avoidance is doubtless widespread throughout British industry, all the way down to the smallest of small SMEs. The genealogy industry isn’t exempt. Think of Ancestry, fronted in ad campaigns by that nice Tony Robinson, with the biggest reach of any online genealogy business across Britain – yet registered in bijou Luxembourg to avoid corporation tax. And think of that supposedly plucky underdog S&N Genealogy, the business behind The Genealogist and a myriad obscure websites – cannily registered offshore, in Jersey, to avoid paying corporation tax. Tax underpaid in UK by Ancestry and The Genealogist means cuts in education, the National Health Service and local authority services. Perhaps think about that, and the alternatives, next time you want to buy some pay-per-view credits or renew your annual subscription.
This also puts into context the activities of the grassroots organisations out there, which are either charities or trusts, or survive on a shoestring. It’s heartening to be reminded of their continued survival each year at WDYTYA. The Jewish Genealogical Society of Great Britain was there, with pretty much the same stand, same stock of books, and same selfless volunteers. The Anglo-Germans were there, as always, non-denominational and ecumenical – if your ancestor was a pork butcher or a sugar baker, do drop by. The Polish presence seemed stronger than last year, with the Kresy-Siberia stall attracting more attention, and trying to raise public awareness of the Polish airmen and others who fought with the Allies in WW2.
I took questions from visitors from across the planet, and with all sorts of questions from the straightforward to the frankly insoluble – same as always! My favourite questions as ever were from the researchers with the trickiest and most challenging conundrums – this year including visitors with questions about ethnic Lithuanian and Ukrainian ancestry.
It’s often claimed that the first combined fish and chip shop in England was the idea of a Jewish immigrant named Joseph Malin. This seems to have become one of those notions which acquires a life of its own and is then repeated, unverified, especially across the worldwide web. For instance, in the London weekly listings magazine Time Out, we read the following on 27th January 2013:
“In 1860, teenage Eastern European immigrant and culinary visionary Joseph Malin combined the already established Jewish staple of fried fish with the humble spud, and opened an eatery in Cleveland Way, Whitechapel… the National Federation of Fish Friers recognised Malin’s in 1968 as the world’s first fish and chip shop”.
Although Malin could conceivably be a Jewish name, for instance with a root from the Polish malina (raspberry) and truncated (e.g. from Malina, Malinka, Malinowski etc), Joseph does not appear to have been Jewish at all. He was born on 28th March 1852 in the London East End registration district of Bethnal Green and baptised on 25 April 1852 at Shoreditch St Leonard’s – he would therefore have been aged 8 years in 1860 when, according to Time Out, his fish and chip emporium opened its doors. In fact, he appears on both the 1871 and the 1881 census returns as a hearth-rug weaver. It is only by the time of the 1891 census that he appears with the occupation fishmonger at 78 & 80 Cleveland Street in Bethnal Green – his wife Mary Ann Frances (nee Stevens) is described as a fishmonger’s assistant, his recently married daughter Mary Collins is a fish-frier and his 14-year old daughter Charlotte is a potato-peeler. When his daughters Elizabeth and Charlotte were baptised at Bethnal Green St Jude’s in April 1875 and April 1877 respectively he was still a hearth-rug weaver, but by the time his son Joseph was born in May 1879 he was described as a fish salesman. He then reverted to describing himself as a hearth-rug weaver at the time of the baptism of his daughter Rosetta in August 1882, and then back to a fishmonger at the time of the August 1884 baptism of his son Thomas Robert Malin. In other words, his career as a fishmonger appears to have emerged as sideline during the late 1870s and only become his full-time trade in the mid- or late 1880s.
In any event, leaving aside the chronological development of his career, Joseph baptised his children into the Church of England, and was himself baptised. His parents Charles James and Mary Ann Malin married in August 1844 in Shoreditch St Leonard’s – Charles’s father Joseph was a whip-maker. There is nothing to suggest that any of them were Jewish. Rather, Joseph Malin was an East Ender who offered fish fried in the Jewish fashion, together with deep-fried potato chips. His older brother John was also a fishmonger at 560 Old Ford Road by 1891 and it seems that the burgeoning Malin business had at least two outlets by that date.
The United Nations Office at Geneva in Switzerland has a vast archive and library, including holdings generated and collected by its predecessor the League of Nations.
Among these are 15 registers under references C1601/497, C1602/498 and C1603/499 which pertain to the inmates admitted to the Armenian Orphanage in Aleppo, Syria during the period 1922 to 1930. Each volume contains short biographies and black and white photographs of up to 100 orphans and others admitted to the Orphanage. The registers do not form a complete unbroken series covering all inmates – four original volumes, known to have existed because of the sequential numbering of individuals admitted to the orphanage, have been lost or destroyed at some date. However, this still leaves illustrated biographical sketches of approximately 1,500 Armenians, victims but survivors of the Armenian Genocide.
Each orphan had been deported from the Armenian-inhabited regions of the Ottoman Empire, and presumably most if not all had lost both parents and all other close family members. Many had escaped or been released from captivity in the homes of Turks, Kurds or Arabs, many had been forced to convert, and many of the girls had been treated as domestic servants or unwilling concubines.
It is possible to search for individual orphans by name and place of origin online at the Center for Armenian Remembrance. Hand-held digital photographs are attached to a proportion of the entries, together with English/French transcription of the biographical text.
[Unfortunately, the digitised registers have been taken offline since this blog was first published]
It becomes ever more difficult to find worthwhile and informative documentaries about culture and society in the rest of the world on terrestrial TV in Britain, even on Channel 4. However, a number of English language satellite news channels, such as RT and France 24, produce interesting material. The best of these is probably Al Jazeera, notwithstanding its occasionally too patent Arab bias (Israel is never going to get a fair hearing on Al Jazeera) or blind-spots (there is almost no coverage of the contemporary situation in the Arabian peninsula, even though the station is based in Doha – clearly, it does not want to bite the hand that feeds).
Of the documentaries with an Eastern European focus currently available online on Al Jazeera, I can recommend the following.
Macedonia: A River Divides. This is a very balanced and fair look at the city of Skopje, with its largely divided Albanian and Slavic Macedonian communities. It’s also nice simply to get an insight into a country that rarely makes the mainstream media.
Cyprus: Island of Forbidden Love. Not quite what its title might promise, this is a depiction of the growth of wedding tourism catering for Lebanese mixed faith couples. There is no institution of civil marriage in Lebanon and, until such time as there is, mixed faith couples have to marry overseas if neither the man nor the woman wishes to convert to the religion of their partner. Cyprus is close, convenient and liberal-minded. Lebanese couples can fly to Larnaca, get married the same or following day, before returning home to Beirut with a Cyprus marriage certificate which is recognised by the Lebanese courts. Among the happy couples featured in the documentary is a young Druze man and his Armenian bride.
Talking of Armenians, on Al Jazeera World one can also view a documentary called Common Pain about the Armenian Genocide. In this instance, the journalistic balance is weighted too generously towards the side of the Turks, and the essential editorial message of the piece seems to be “both sides suffered, let’s forget about the past and look to the future” – even though, for many Armenians, quite reasonably, recognition of the Genocide is a prerequisite for reconciliation with their Turkish neighbours. The Turkish academics and commentators in the film contend that, in effect, the Armenians died accidentally and unfortunately in 1915 – a bit of a shame but it was wartime after all, and Turkish soldiers also got killed. Among the Genocide-deniers caught on film in this documentary are the quite ludicrous Melih Aktaş of Gazi Üniversitesi in Ankara; the risible Mustafa Budak, Deputy Director General of the Prime Ministerial State Archives; and the pompous American academic Justin McCarthy who went native in Turkey and swallowed Turkish disinformation hook, line and sinker. The fact that McCarthy apparently holds the Order of Merit of Turkey tells one all one needs to know about this dimwit.
For a truer picture of the catastrophe that was the Armenian Genocide, take a look at another Al Jazeera documentary called Grandma’s Tattoos. Note that Al Jazeera feels it necessary to disclaim responsibility for the historical accuracy of the harrowing historical events depicted in the film.