{"id":941,"date":"2022-01-13T20:04:11","date_gmt":"2022-01-13T19:04:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/relativelyspeaking.one-name.blog\/wp\/?p=941"},"modified":"2022-01-13T20:07:31","modified_gmt":"2022-01-13T19:07:31","slug":"from-a-signature-to-the-family-history-of-a-book","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/relativelyspeaking.one-name.blog\/wp\/?p=941","title":{"rendered":"From a signature to the family history of a book"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

My favourite find for #52Ancestors <\/em>could be the name of my great grandmother’s father, or the 40 page probate packet of an estate in 18th<\/sup> century Massachusetts<\/a>, or the photo of my great great grandfather that to my eyes is basically my dad with massive sideburns. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But actually, my favourite genealogy find is a signature in a book. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mostly unrelated to my own family history, and only tangentially related to my one-name study. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Purchased when I was fed up with reading on screens, this book turned out to be so much more than a 19th century history of an American town. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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My genealogy library, minimalist edition<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

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I love signatures.<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

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When I was 18, I queued up for hours in Borders bookshop in York to get a copy of the Last Continent<\/em> by Terry Pratchett signed for my then boyfriend (now husband). <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Contemplating developing a similarly flourishy-yet-minimalist signature myself!<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

I got him to write his name as “Terry Pratchett (hat beard)”. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

In a very studenty way, our group of friends regularly wandered round the city, looking for the ‘perfect’ combination of pipe, hat and beard on a gentleman. When spotted, we would then politely accost the bearer of said cranial accoutrements to congratulate them on their suavity. Ah, the folly of youth!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Portrait of a young autograph hunter<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

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I have a small collection of notables’ signatures, mostly from my childhood when famous people were more willing to write back to enthusiastic kids, and celebrities didn\u2019t charge large sums of money for their autograph (or selfie!). <\/p>\n\n\n\n

For a school project I once wrote to an eclectic selection of famous people, with addresses pulled from the school library’s copy of Who’s Who<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They wrote back! So thrilling!<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Letters from Gyles Brandreth, Ruth Rendell, Victoria Wood, Rabbi Julia Neuberger, and Sir David Attenborough<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n
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Signatures in Genealogy<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

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Signatures can often be the only trace left behind by distant ancestors, on a will, or a marriage entry. Famously, the only undisputed examples of Shakespeare’s handwriting exist in the form of his signature on six legal documents<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When your ancestors’ lives overlap, and they do that thing when they name their children after themselves, picking out who is who can be tricky, particularly before census records.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finding examples of handwriting can in some cases provide the clue you need to separate the Johns from the Jnos and the Samuels from the Sams. <\/p>\n\n\n\n