We were warned that a summer census would make some people more difficult to find. I found the man I was looking for quite easily, but also stumbled on the unexpected aftermath of another story besides.
I had been working for much of last year on the family of my cousin's husband's grandmother, who was one of 18 children. Her younger brother was married in the September quarter of 1917, and when I found him and his wife by 'trial and error' in Great Yarmouth in the 1921 Census, I decided that they had quite likely taken a summer holiday. He was a farmer, so a June holiday would be quite likely - a fact that I knew from personal experience. My father was a farm worker and holidays in my school holidays were always ruled out because of the harvest.
I had decided that, when my Findmypast subscription was due for renewal after Christmas, I would upgrade it to included unlimited access to the 1921 Census and, at odd moments recently, I've been looking up the people I thought I'd found already, to get a proper reference make sure I had found the right person and glean whatever else I could from the entry. In this case, I certainly got more than I'd bargained for!
I found the couple I was looking for - yes, Stephen and Daisy Kerridge (lines 4 & 5) were the farmer and his wife. I was a bit puzzled that all five immediately visible occupants were visitors, but then I clicked on the 'show more' button and revealed the host family. Why put themselves last? a gesture of importance to their guests, perhaps, who knows? Even as I revealed this bricklayer and his family, my mind was registering the name of the first person on the list: Sarah Boggis.
Notwithstanding that a girl named Sarah who was at school at the same time as me later became a Mrs Boggis, it wasn't until I looked further down the list and found Archibald J Francis that I realised that Sarah Boggis was the ultimate married name of my great-great-aunt. So here was an intermediate snapshot in a story that began way back in the 19th century.
Archie Francis was, sadly, a figure of fun in the family as I grew up. In those days little boys didn't question what their elders shared 'over their heads'; we either learned by listening quietly or, as in this case, only as a result of unearthing the family history as a retired adult.
His father, James Francis was born in March 1835 and, at the age of 21, married my 3 x great-aunt, Mary Ann Sturgeon. By 1871 he was an 'engine driver', and ten years later was more clearly described as a 'threshing engine proprietor', which remained his occupation for the rest of his life. In 1902, after almost 46 years of childless marriage, Mary Ann died. Two years or so later, James married his niece, Sarah, who promptly presented him with a son ... Archie. I think my mother and her family were mildly amused by the fact that this distant relative had suddenly become a father at the age of 70 ... or maybe it tickled them that, at the age of 25, Archie went on to marry his cousin (the daughter of Sarah's elder sister), who was some four-and-a-half years his senior!
James died in 1916 and, still only in her early 40s, Sarah was married the following year to John Boggis. (I think it was a descendant of John's brother who married the Sarah I mentioned above.) My grandfather's aunt Sarah had clearly held on to the business that her late husband had built up over the decades, hence her rather unusual occupation on the census form, 'threshing engine proprietress'. The same logic would prevail regarding the choice of June for a holiday, and why not take her unemployed son with her? The business could clearly look after itself for a week.
As indeed it did; in 1939, Archie was recorded as a threshing contractor and, two households further on, was John Boggis, a threshing engine owner. Whether one owned what the other used is anyone's guess, but it's likely they were in business together.
