The Yorky History Lass.


‘You may choose to look the other way, but you can never say again that you did not know.’

~ William Wilberforce

Those Gnarled Branches and Fallen Leaves


Although I have been ‘properly’ researching the history of my family since 2004 – my interest in the gnarled branches and fallen leaves of my family tree began in the early teenage years.

And having always been a diligent hoarder of the scraps of family keepsakes that have come my way; those numerous large boxes of files, papers, books, photographs and other assorted genealogical matter that I have shifted down and up several sets of stairs with every house move over the years has NOT been for the faint-hearted!

King George VI once stated that “the history of York is the history of England’ and this ancient city is not only the place of my birth but also for many of those Bensons, Dalbys, Edesons and Peacocks to whom I have since laid claim – although some of whom certainly add more than a little colour to those fallen leaves.

And even though there is MORE than enough to to occupy me within the walls of this chocolate box city – I have also been very busy elsewhere.

The Female of the SPECIES?


As my interest has been piqued as of late by the welcome appearance of several Yorkshire lasses within my clan recently discovered including thrice-wed grandmothers, social reformers, lunatics and unmarried mothers – my feelings of female solidarity have been awakened.

And with the floors of my den now littered with the fruits of my genealogical findings – I’m off in search of a more feminine line.

NOT that I believe that my female ancestors were actually deadlier than their male counterparts!

in search of those elusive ancestors...


Heigh-Ho! Heigh-Ho! It’s Off to Bow I Go.

I often find myself looking to the past if I am search of an elusive ancestor for a client or trawling through the Census for THOSE pesky relatives who STILL appear reluctant to reveal themselves!

Blood Sweeps the Land in November.

As I watched from the shadows as the volunteers carefully plucked the ceramic poppies from the muddy ground and into the safety of their cardboard nests – I was feeling disappointed that no poppy would be finding its forever home with me.

Late for a VERY Important Date!

Although I don’t usually enjoy receiving brown envelopes through the post – I will make an exception when one arrives from the General Records Office or the GRO as it known here in the UK.