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Scott’s journey through genealogy: don’t believe everything you read

In this blog series, genealogical historian Scott Phillips invites us along on his journey through genealogy and shares some of the lessons he’s learnt along the way.

Hi everybody! I’m Scott Phillips and I’m pleased to be a new addition to the findmypast.co.uk family with my regular column ‘Scott’s journey through genealogy’. The focus of each of my columns will be to share with you what I consider to be some of the more important insights I have gained over the years during which I have been pursing genealogy. Hopefully they will help you in your efforts as you work on your family history and perhaps even save you some time and frustration.

Scott Phillips

As a way of introducing myself, let me offer you a brief background on my personal family history. I have traced and documented my paternal grandparents (surnames of Phillipps and Cottle) back to the 1500s in Cornwall and my maternal grandparents (Evenden) to the 1500s in Kent and (Vicha and Knechtl) to the 1600s in Bohemia, now the Czech Republic. I have also traced my wife’s family (D’Aquila and Casagrande) back to the 1600s in the Molise district of Italy. You can read more about my background and work on my website if you are interested.

I will also caution you that I am very serious in my belief that documentation is a must in genealogy. Otherwise we are creating nothing more than the likes of ‘Pecos Bill’ who, by the way, was one of the favourites in my youth.

Today, I would like to start with an important and basic insight that I learned a bit too late in my family history work and one that I constantly remind myself: ‘Do not believe everything you read!’ I actually have that statement taped to the edge of my computer monitor just in case I might forget it. I have found that this mantra focuses me, over and over, on databases like those at findmypast.co.uk, which help me ensure that my family tree is as accurate and complete as I can make it.

You might be asking what I mean by not believing everything you read. Let me explain with some examples.

Gramps’ mystery brother

One of the earliest situations came about thanks to my grandfather, Edward George Phillipps. ‘Gramps’ as we called him, loved to tell stories about his growing up in Cornwall (he immigrated to the US in 1912). Almost every story included the statement: ‘there has always been only one male Phillipps per generation’. He even wrote it down in one of his many letters that he sent to me while I was at university. Consequently, when I began my genealogy work I started by looking for Phillipps families with only one son. I was quite pleased when I found my grandfather in the 1911 England & Wales census with his mother and stepfather. Then I had similar success finding him in the 1901 England & Wales census, again with his mother and stepfather. Then I found the 1891 England & Wales census, with sisters and his mother, now as a widow:

Click to enlarge

A bit more work and I found the family in the 1881 England & Wales census, but with a brother, William:

Click to enlarge

Back to the beginning to try again as I was certain I had made some mistake. I must have started over at least half a dozen times. I ‘knew’ there was no brother. To condense a long story, after significant time and quite a bit of additional research, I discovered that William Morrish Phillipps was indeed my great uncle and that my grandfather did actually have an older brother! He was killed in WWI and now rests eternal in Houyet, Belgium.

A tale of two families

The Phillipps monument on the wall of St. Julitta, Lanteglos by Camelford, Cornwall – click to enlarge

Another example occurred more recently and again was related to my Phillipps family. I was working on Charles Phillipps (1720-1774) of Lanteglos by Camelford and a member of parliament at that time from this ‘rotten borough’. I read with interest, in Sir John Maclean’s indispensable three volume set, ’Parochial and Family History of the Deanery of Trigg Minor, in the County of Cornwall’, Nichols & Son, London, 1894, about the establishment of the ‘Charles Phillipps Charity’ and decided to investigate more.

I likewise encountered references to this in Davies Gilbert’s 1838 work entitled ’The Parochial History of Cornwall Founded on the Manuscript Histories of Mr. Hals and Mr. Tonkin; with additions and various appendices’. In this work there is a description of the Phillipps family and their holdings, which includes Charles and his brothers, Reverend William Phillipps, Rector of Lanteglos by Camelford and Sir Jonathan Phillipps. It was only ‘natural’ for me to believe that the charitable Charles was the one included in these descriptions.

I continued investigating Charles by ordering a copy of what I thought might be his will. The first thing I noted was that I had a discrepancy in the year of his death. The will said he supposedly died years later than the monument on the wall stated in the church of St. Julitta. I am accustomed to differences of one or two years, but rarely a full 30 so I continued to research even further. That was when I noted that there was also reference to a sister, Mary. I had never come across a sister Mary in the family. I was starting to sense that I might have a problem on my hands.

It was not until I fully investigated Charles in the holdings of both the Cornwall Record Office and The National Archives that I discovered that in the 1700s and in the small village of Lanteglos by Camelford, there happened to be two Phillipps families. Both had a set of brothers with the given names of Charles, William, and Thomas. Thank goodness for sister Mary! As I began transcribing and charting these wills, I noted that it was not the ‘rich and famous’ Charles who left his holdings to charity, it was the relatively unknown Charles Phillipps! I am still working to unravel and understand the full relationships and extent of these two families, but it has been very gratifying to be able to know the true history of the man who cared so much for the community of Lanteglos by Camelford. Not only did Charles leave money for the poor, but he also left funds intended to start ‘the first grammar school in Camelford’.

Where there’s a will…

The third and final example I will use again involves my Phillipps ancestors. This time it was Nicholas Phillipps of St Teath parish in Cornwall. Nicholas was born in around 1574 and died in 1642. Luckily for me, he was thoughtful enough to have written a will and upon his passing, two of his heirs provided an extensive inventory of his holdings. As you might imagine, these documents, which I again secured through the Cornwall Record Office, are as challenging as they are amazing. Not only are they parchment manuscripts, but being over 370 years old, they are showing their age and are quite tattered and worn through in several spots. Add to this the fact that they are written in ‘secretary script’, the script of the time, and I was feeling quite overwhelmed.

A sample of the 1642 will of Nicholas Phillipps, courtesy of the Cornwall County Council – click to enlarge

I pride myself on being able to undertake my own genealogy work; however, I also know when I need to call on the assistance of a professional. I was blessed to connect with Peter Foden, a world-class palaeographer. This was clearly a case where I needed some significant help and Peter delivered. I now have a fabulous transcription of the will, which lists over a dozen family members, and an inventory that includes more than half a dozen place names of family holdings.

When Peter provided the transcription, I believe he was as excited as I was to get them. Peter explained that he was pleased to see that my family had owned a place by the name of Melorne in the 1500s and 1600s. He then told me that he had approached some of his colleagues and that I might be interested to learn that this location is now classified as a deserted mediaeval village and an active archaeological dig. Peter explained that as he had been transcribing the will he came across the Cornish word ’linney’. As he investigated this word he turned to another of his colleagues and came to discover that this word was being used almost 100 years earlier in this will than even the venerable Oxford English Dictionary thought it was in use.

Once again here we were setting a corrected path for history! First we were able to provide previously unknown ownership information on an active mediaeval archaeological site and then to add to the body of knowledge for the likes of the Oxford English Dictionary. Quite cool, if I do say so myself!

So there you have a short example of three cases that show the importance of getting documents and sources and not relying on third-party or even farther removed information sources. It is why I continue to prize highly and use constantly my subscription to databases such as findmypast.co.uk. There truly is no substitute for getting as close to ‘the real thing’ as we, as genealogists and family historians, can. Remember don’t always believe everything you read!

Scott Phillips is a genealogical historian and owner of Onward To Our Past® genealogy services in Indiana, US. Scott calls genealogy his ‘sweetest passion’ and his wife calls it ‘our shadow’! Scott specialises in immigrant ancestry, especially from Bohemia (Czech Republic), Cornwall, the UK and Italy. In addition to joining findmypast.co.uk as a columnist, he is a regular genealogy contributor for Huffington Post United Kingdom, GenealogyBank.com and his own website, Onward To Our Past. You can follow Scott on his Facebook page and on his website/blog

Family photos: the family photo album

Welcome to the ninth in our series of blogs about how to understand and interpret your old family photos. In this series, Jayne Shrimpton, internationally recognised dress historian, portrait specialist, photo detective and regular contributor to Family Tree, Your Family History and Family History Monthly magazines, dates and analyses different types of photographs and helps you to add context to your old family pictures.

Jayne Shrimpton

Some family historians are fortunate enough to possess not only old photographs, but the original 19th and 20th century photograph albums in which they were stored and displayed. This blog focuses on these special family heirlooms, explaining their origins, describing their changing styles and suggesting how best to investigate inherited albums and their contents.

Early photograph albums

Before the introduction of cartes de visite – the first mass-produced, printed photographs (see blog one) – early photographic prints had sometimes been pasted into general scrapbooks. It was the new craze for collecting standard visiting-card sized card-mounted cartes, however, that inspired the production of the purpose-designed photograph albums that were the precursors of today’s family albums.

The first albums were produced in France in 1857/8, by which time the carte de visite (patented there in 1854) was becoming fashionable. Entrepreneurs across the English Channel were quick to seize this new business opportunity and photograph albums were being advertised in the British trade press by 1861. This was the year that witnessed an explosion in carte de visite sales, the phenomenon known as ‘cartomania’. The active promotion of and growing interest in the novel albums in turn encouraged the taking and collecting of more photographs. During the early 1860s, cartes were known as ‘album portraits’, demonstrating the close connection between these new photographs and the fashion for displaying them in albums.

The public enjoyed collecting ‘celebrity’ cartes – images of famous and influential figures of the day, including royalty, aristocrats, politician, statesmen, singers and actors and writers. Souvenir cartes depicting picturesque views from around the country were also popular, for example, the much-publicised photographs of the Wigan broo wenches and pitgirls wearing their distinctive outfits. The main interest, however, was in personal family photographs – studio portraits of members of the household and other relatives, which were given, exchanged and collected on an unprecedented scale.

The first photograph albums were made with heavy leather bindings and sturdy metal clasps, looking externally much like the traditional family bible or hymn book – see fig.1. Inside it was usual to include a ‘page one’ carte de visite – a frontispiece with a message or (often humorous) verses addressed to the family members and friends who were about to view the album (fig.2). The main album pages featured pre-cut carte-sized apertures for the convenient arrangement and display of photographs, larger albums offering space for four cartes de visite per page and those of the smallest dimensions just one carte per page.

A respectable and fashionable ornament

Substantial and handsomely-presented albums were recognised as ideal gifts at Christmas and for birthdays, especially coming of age, particularly for ladies, who were generally the keepers of the family records. Many surviving examples, like fig.1, are helpfully inscribed with the date, occasion and name of the recipient. Because of their clever design, albums commanded a sense of almost religious respect and before long it was suggested that they might replace the existing practice of noting family births, marriages and deaths inside the family bible.

The repository of much that the family held dear, photograph albums also became desirable material possessions – attractive ornaments for the home. By the end of 1861, elegantly-bound albums were said to have become ‘one of the indispensable ornaments of every lady’s table.’ As with any novelty, the more prosperous classes were the first to acquire the new photograph albums, but over time, as portrait photography became more widespread and prices came down, even some ordinary working families could boast a treasured family album.

Late 19th century albums

Later albums produced from the 1880s onwards often contained pages with two sizes of apertures for the display of both cartes de visite and cabinet prints – a feature that helps with identifying late-Victorian albums. The larger cabinet card had been introduced in 1866 but take-up was slow and the format only became popular in the 1880s, going on to rival the carte during the 1890s and at the turn of the century.

The styles of album bindings also changed over the years, as seen by comparing fig.1 with fig.4: sometimes velvet or plush (cotton velvet) – both fashionable materials in the late 19th century – was used for the covers, while the pages inside grew ever more elaborate as fashionable taste veered increasingly towards the ornate. In many late-Victorian albums, the frontispiece and sometimes additional pages were embellished with coloured illustrations (fig.5) and the photographs themselves might be decoratively framed with a painted border of flowers or other themed motifs (fig.6).

As the fashion grew for keeping and displaying family photographs in albums, special albums were developed for particular types of photograph. Some commercial photographers, for example, astutely produced ‘Baby’s Album,’ encouraging doting parents to commission annual photographs of their offspring throughout their childhood and adolescence, to record and proudly demonstrate their growth and development. Some albums were designed to hold portraits of the dead – macabre images known as post mortem photographs. Wedding albums were said to be much in vogue in 1889 and a number survive from around this time onwards. Purchased by the bride and filled with photographs of members of the bridal party, the autograph of each person might be written beneath their respective portrait.

Studying Victorian photo albums

Album collections were generally started by one ancestor then passed down the family, later generations sometimes adding new photographs to those already within. Surviving Victorian albums may, then, contain an assortment of photographs potentially spanning four or more decades, although surviving evidence suggests that often the majority of photographs inside were taken within a decade or so of the year of the album’s acquisition. If the date was recorded inside the cover, this gives a useful starting point for dating and identifying the photos inside.

An inherited photograph album, heavy and fragile, can seem a mixed blessing: where on earth do you start with investigating the contents? The positioning of photographs within the album may at first appear random, but there was usually a purpose to their initial arrangement on the pages. Portraits of husbands and wives, in particular, were typically displayed alongside each other, and on the same or adjacent pages were often inserted pictures of any children, while photographs of other family members branched out further throughout the album. There was no fixed method, however, and family relationships and connections expressed in the different photographs may take some time to unravel, but since their organisation can often offer important historical evidence, it is important to respect and preserve the original order within the album.

Usually the cartes de visite or cabinet prints inside an album are tightly fitted into their apertures, so any printed details at the foot or on the reverse of the mounts is concealed. As we saw in blogs two and three, investigating the photographer and studying the design of the mount can help with dating and identifying unlabelled photographs, while the studio location gives a useful clue as to where the subject(s) probably lived. Sometimes albums span different continents, especially in cases where family members emigrated and sent photographs back to those remaining at home, so it is important to know exactly where each photograph within an album was taken to locate their geographical origins and understand more about their purpose.

Sometimes the owners of old Victorian albums were worried about taking photographs out of their apertures in case they tear the delicate paper. This is a difficult issue: a conservator would probably advise not to remove them, yet in the interests of accurate research, photographs need to be studied properly, front and back, to collect all their nuggets of information. If the aperture edges and album pages in general are already damaged, it is unlikely that you can do a great deal more harm. If you do decide to take the plunge, remove each photograph carefully one at a time, using a pair of tweezers, scan the photograph front and back so that the original doesn’t have to be handled again, then replace it in its original position within the album.

Family snapshot albums

As we saw in blog eight, by the early 20th century amateur photography was becoming popular, with many families acquiring a ‘modern’ roll-film camera, and this gave rise to a new type of snapshot album. Generally these albums were plainer and slimmer than the solid and ornate Victorian bible-like volumes and sometimes the front cover bore the name of the manufacturer, such as Kodak or Ogden’s (fig.s 7-9). Naturally many more of these snapshot albums survive in today’s family collections.

Albums dating from the 1900s to the 1920s may be relatively small, their pages typically formed of thick card with pre-cut apertures designed to take the neat contact prints of the era. By the 1930s and 1940s, albums of larger dimensions were becoming more usual, the pages often thinner and left plain so that printed snapshots of various sizes could be arranged inside.

As in the Victorian period, snapshot albums were frequently given as Christmas or birthday presents, so there may be a helpful inscription and date inside the front cover. Many of the photographs inside are likely to date from soon after the year that the album was acquired, although there was more of a tendency to add extra snaps for some years afterwards. It was also quite common for the photographer or the relative compiling the album to write details of the date, occasion and names of the people in the scene on the back of the print, or directly onto the album page (fig.8).

Fig.1 Leather-bound carte de visite photograph album, presented in 1863 - click to enlarge. This early photograph album was presented in 1863 as a 30th birthday gift to a female ancestor and was later passed down through the family. Note the characteristic bible-like presentation, with leather bindings and stout metal clasps. (Jon Easter)

Fig.2 ‘Page one’ carte de visite from 1863 album - click to enlarge. This frontispiece from the 1863 album, itself a carte de visite, shows how an early album might be displayed at home amongst other fashionable ornaments. A message advises that only those prepared to contribute their portraits may view the contents. (Jon Easter)

Fig. 3 Carte de visite portrait c.1862-65 from 1863 album - click to enlarge. The album in fig.1 contained dozens of cartes de visite dating from the 1860s and early 1870s. This photograph of a middle-aged or elderly gentleman wearing a conservative frock coat is dateable to c.1862-5. (Jon Easter)

Fig.4 Late-Victorian photograph album, presented in 1886 - click to enlarge. An inscription inside this album states that it was presented by one lady to another in 1886. Inside the pages have small and larger apertures, to take both the cartes de visite and cabinet prints that were popular by the late 19th century. (Fiona Adams)

Fig.5 Title page from the 1886 album - click to enlarge. This coloured title page is typical of the 1880s and 1890s, when many albums were highly-decorated with flowers and other fashionable designs. (Fiona Adams)

Fig.6 Sample page from the 1886 album - click to enlarge. This page from the 1886 album displays a cabinet print dating to the late 1880s or early 1890s. The oval aperture has been elaborately framed with a painted floral border. This is characteristic of many late-Victorian albums. (Fiona Adams)

Fig.7 Ogden’s snapshots photograph album, 1909 - click to enlarge. This slim snapshots album was inscribed inside the cover with the date, 1909. Most of the photographs displayed within date from the late-Edwardian and First World War eras. (Fiona Adams)

Fig.8 Page from 1909 snapshots album - click to enlarge. Early 20th century albums often had pre-cut apertures for the small prints of the age, although here the central photo has been stuck onto the page. As was common with many snapshot albums, the photographs have been identified on the album pages. (Fiona Adams)

Fig.9 Snapshots album, 1913-14 - click to enlarge. This family album, begun in 1913 and completed in 1914, provides an interesting and personal record of a baby’s first year in New York and her family’s journey from the United States to visit relatives in England. (Claire Dulanty)

Fig.10 Snapshot, 1914, from 1913-14 album - click to enlarge. This snapshot from the 1913-14 album was taken in July 1914 on board ship en route to England and shows the photograph owner’s mother as a baby in a pram, with her nanny and father. (Claire Dulanty)

Recommended reading

Little has been published about old photograph albums but there is some information in these books:

The Victorians: Photographic Portraits, Audrey Linkman (Tauris Parke, 1993)

How to get the most from Family Pictures, Jayne Shrimpton (Society of Genealogists, 2011)

Family photos: what’s the history?

Welcome to the first in a new series of blogs about how to understand and interpret your old family photos. In this series, Jayne Shrimpton, internationally recognised dress historian, portrait specialist and photo detective (pictured below), dates and analyses different types of photographs and helps you to add context to your old family pictures.

Jayne Shrimpton

What type of photograph?

Portrait photography is 170 years old and seven, even eight, generations of the family may have been portrayed in photographs. Yet many old photographs have been passed down without labels or notes giving helpful information about the date, occasion or people depicted in them.

Different types of photograph, or formats, were produced throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, each having its own recognisable features. Identifying the format of a ‘mystery’ photograph and locating its place in history is the first step to establishing an accurate timeframe.

Daguerreotypes c.1841 – early 1860s (most common c.1845-55)

The first commercial photography studios of the 1840s produced one-off photographs on a silvered copper plate, known as daguerreotypes. The natural successors to miniature paintings, daguerreotypes cost around one guinea each – expensive luxuries beyond the means of ordinary working ancestors, hence they occur rarely in today’s family collections. Being fragile images, daguerreotypes were protected under glass, framed in a gilt surround and fitted into a folding case.

A few early-1840s daguerreotypes survive, but most belong to the period c.1845-1855. After the mid-1850s they were rapidly eclipsed by cheaper photographic formats.

Daguerreotype in leather case, c.1847-8. The earliest studio photographs, daguerreotypes mainly portray prosperous ancestors. This lady is believed to be the wife of a Windsor property developer who served as Mayor, 1846-7 and 1854. (Chris Cobb). Click to enlarge.

Ambrotypes (collodion positives) c.1852-1890s (most common 1855-early 1860s)

The next photographic format was the collodion positive, usually known as the ambrotype. Another unique picture, the ambrotype was a negative image on a glass plate, backed with black varnish (shellac) or velvet to create a positive photograph. Like daguerreotypes, ambrotypes were mounted into a brass or pinchbeck surround and often protected in a case, or framed for hanging on the wall. The technique, devised in 1852, was widely used from mid-decade but its heyday was brief. Many ambrotypes set in the studio date from within just a few years, c.1855-60, although a few itinerant photographers produced them until c.1890.

Costing around one shilling by 1857, ambrotypes brought photography to more working people and they occur in a number of family collections.

Paired, cased ambrotypes, c.1860. Ambrotypes were the most common type of photograph c.1855-60. Affordable for many working people, these paired pictures portray the children of a Calcutta cabinet maker, photographed when visiting London. (Chris Cobb). Click to enlarge.

Cartes de visite c.1858-1919 (most common c.1860-1908)

The small carte de visite, measuring around 10cms x 6.5cms, was the first commercially produced card-mounted photographic print. Arriving from France in 1858, the carte came of age in Britain in 1860 and rapidly achieved widespread popularity from 1861 onwards, inspiring the ‘cartomania’ phenomenon. Convenient cartes (or cdvs) could be mass-produced and, being fairly inexpensive, extended to all social classes by mid-decade.

Copies were collected, given as gifts and exchanged, leading to production of the first purpose-designed photograph albums in the early 1860s. Any collection of early family photographs is likely to include cdvs as they dominated Victorian photography, remaining popular in the Edwardian era.

Carte de visite, c.1863-4. Printed cartes were the first mass-produced photographs and in Britain they became popular throughout society soon after 1861. This example is typical of an early carte. (Jayne Shrimpton). Click to enlarge.

Cabinet Prints c.1866-1919 (most common late 1870s-c.1910)

In 1866 the cabinet photograph was introduced – another print mounted onto card, but, measuring around 16.5cms x 11.5cms including the mount, over twice the size of the cdv. At first cabinet prints gained little favour, but demand gradually increased during the 1870s and by the 1880s they were a popular choice, their production finally equalling or exceeding the carte by the 1890s.

Cabinet prints, like cdvs, were still available in the early-1900s, even the 1910s, although surviving examples usually pre-date 1910. Together cartes and cabinet prints account for most Victorian and Edwardian studio photographs in early picture collections.

Cabinet print, c.1892-4. Cabinet prints, larger than cartes, were introduced in 1866. Popular by the 1880s, they were the most common card-mounted photograph of the 1890s. (Kat Williams). Click to enlarge.

Tintypes (ferrotypes) In Britain 1870s-1940s

The tintype, or ferrotype, is identifiable as a photographic image struck directly onto an iron plate. Like daguerreotypes and ambrotypes, tintypes were unique pictures but they cost just a few pence – their cheap price generally reflected in their inferior quality. Produced in the US from the mid 1850s, tintypes were less fashionable in Britain, scarcely being recognised there until the later 1870s. Never widely popular, demand for these modest photographs nonetheless persisted until the 1940s. Well-suited to itinerant photographers, tintypes often depict outdoor scenes, such as the beach or fairground.

Surviving examples may be framed under glass in a decorative surround or may simply comprise a thin, sharp-edged piece of metal: tiny ‘gem’ tintypes were sometimes inserted into carte de visite or other card mounts.

Tintype (ferrotype), early-mid 1880s. Tintypes, produced in Britain from the late 1870s, are often quite informal photographs, showing family members enjoying a day out. (Pat FitzSimmons). Click to enlarge.

Portrait postcards c.1902-1940s

Postcards offered a new card format for photographic portraits in the early 20th century. The first picture postcards had appeared in the 1890s, but after 1902, following the introduction of a convenient divided back with separate spaces for the address and a short written message, they began to be used for presenting photographic portraits. Portrait postcards could be posted, like other postcards, but often the photograph was never intended for that purpose, being kept for the image.

Both commercial and amateur photographers used postcard mounts and many examples survive in family collections, dating from c.1902 until the 1940s.

Postcard portrait, c.1910. Many family photographs taken between c.1902 and the 1940s are mounted onto postcards with a divided back. (Kat Williams). Click to enlarge.

20th century card-mounted studio photographs

Some early 20th century studio photographs are neither cdvs, nor cabinet prints, nor postcards. Large or small prints were sometimes mounted onto a stout card of a pale or muted colour – usually off-white, beige, grey, soft brown or dusty green. Mounts were typically much larger than the picture, the wide border offering scope for subtle detailing – often a series of borders or a decorative surround pressed into the card.

In time, as photographic papers became sturdier, some photographs were presented in a folder. Between the 1920s and 1940s the fold-over card was popular: this had pre-cut slots in its back half for containing the photograph, while the front folded over to protect the image.

20th century mounted studio photograph, c.1900. Some early 20th century studio photographs are mounted onto thick, pale or sombre coloured card. The wide frame often has borders or designs pressed into the card. (Claire Dulanty). Click to enlarge.

Amateur ‘snapshots’

Amateur photography has existed for as long as professional photography, but for many years mainly the affluent, leisured classes followed the expensive and time-consuming pursuit. In the 1880s, following technical advances, some middle-class hobbyists began to shoot spontaneous photographs for their own amusement and some of these 19th century ‘snapshots’ do survive. Most families, however, didn’t take up amateur photography until the 20th century. The early-1900s saw a significant rise, with more rapid growth during the 1910s, and most casual snapshots in family collections date from that decade onwards.

Amateur ‘snapshot’, c.1926-30. Casual ‘snapshots’, usually outdoor photographs, are common in family collections. Although early examples can occur, most date from at least the 1910s. (Kat Williams). Click to enlarge.

Look out for the second blog in this series, coming soon. View Jayne’s website here

Further reading

The Victorians: Photographic Portraits, Audrey Linkman (Tauris Parke, 1993)

Dating Nineteenth Century Photographs, Robert Pols (The Alden Press, 2005)

Dating Twentieth Century Photographs, Robert Pols (The Alden Press, 2005)

Family Photographs and How to Date Them, Jayne Shrimpton (Countryside Books, 2008)

How to get the most from Family Pictures, Jayne Shrimpton (Society of Genealogists, 2011)

Jeanne Bunting’s top 10 tips for newbies

Jeanne Bunting is a well renowned family historian. She regularly gives lectures to family history societies around the UK.

Here she tells us her top 10 tips for people new to family history.

1. Always go back to the original record; never rely solely on a transcription.
2. Always record names, dates, places and sources.
3. Keep a research log and record what you searched for, what you found and what you didn’t find. This can save you going over the same ground again.
4. Be methodical – discipline yourself not to collect more information until you have processed the previous collection.
5. Back up your information regularly. If it is on computer, keep copies in different locations and on different media (frequently refresh the media). Also keep a copy on the internet. If it is paper based, photograph and/or photocopy it and keep copies in different locations.
6. Talk to your oldest relatives. Names, dates and places are important. Talk to your children. Grandparents often tell their grandchildren things they didn’t tell their own children.
7. Never add someone else’s family tree to your own in your genealogy program. Check every piece of information and then add it to a copy of your own.
8. See which genealogy websites your local library subscribes to and use the computers there. Subscribe to a different site for home use.
9. Put the meat on the bones. Find out about the kind of lives they led and place them in their time period.
10. Last, but by no means least, remember that you can’t do it all on the internet.

Jeanne Bunting in action (photo courtesy of Peter Cleaver)

Jeanne Bunting's top 10 tips for newbies

Jeanne Bunting is a well renowned family historian. She regularly gives lectures to family history societies around the UK.

Here she tells us her top 10 tips for people new to family history.

1. Always go back to the original record; never rely solely on a transcription.
2. Always record names, dates, places and sources.
3. Keep a research log and record what you searched for, what you found and what you didn’t find. This can save you going over the same ground again.
4. Be methodical – discipline yourself not to collect more information until you have processed the previous collection.
5. Back up your information regularly. If it is on computer, keep copies in different locations and on different media (frequently refresh the media). Also keep a copy on the internet. If it is paper based, photograph and/or photocopy it and keep copies in different locations.
6. Talk to your oldest relatives. Names, dates and places are important. Talk to your children. Grandparents often tell their grandchildren things they didn’t tell their own children.
7. Never add someone else’s family tree to your own in your genealogy program. Check every piece of information and then add it to a copy of your own.
8. See which genealogy websites your local library subscribes to and use the computers there. Subscribe to a different site for home use.
9. Put the meat on the bones. Find out about the kind of lives they led and place them in their time period.
10. Last, but by no means least, remember that you can’t do it all on the internet.

Jeanne Bunting in action (photo courtesy of Peter Cleaver)