Showing posts with label gravestone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gravestone. Show all posts

Monday, 6 August 2018

Breaking Down those Brickwalls: Scottish Death Certificates


New Register House, Edinburgh

As is the case with birth and marriage certificates, 1855 is a great year from a genealogist's point of view.

In this first year of registration Scottish death certificates included the following information:

Date, time and place of death, usual residence, deceased's name, sex, marital status, age and occupation, the deceased's place of birth, spouse's name, both parents' names (including the mother’s maiden surname) and whether deceased, occupations and whether they were deceased, the names and ages of children (or age and year of death if the child pre-deceased the parent), cause of death, duration of last illness, doctor's name, when the doctor last saw the deceased alive, place of burial, the name of the undertaker and details of the informant.

Much of the bounty of information recorded in 1855 was sadly not continued after that year. From 1856-1860 you can expect to find the name, marital status, occupation, date, time and place of death and usual residence, full names of both parents and whether deceased, cause of death, duration of disease and doctor's name, place of burial and undertaker's name, and details of the informant.

Did you know?


By looking at your ancestor's death certificate between 1855 and 1860, or even that of a close relative such as a sibling, you may get a clue as to where the rest of the family were buried. If it was a family plot you may then be able to trace your ancestors using transcriptions of the gravestone, if it has survived. It’s not unusual to find three generations recorded on one gravestone!


Find out more about Scottish civil registration on our website: http://www.scottishindexes.com/learningcivil.aspx


Thursday, 17 July 2014

Tale from a Shetland cemetery

It may seem odd to have a favourite graveyard – I’m not entirely sure. Genealogists certainly spend an above average amount of time in such places (second only to gravediggers and groundskeepers). Some graveyards are grand, with marbled angels standing mute and magnificent over the graves of past illustrious personages. Others are small and tucked away, grey headstones recording the patient lives of ordinary people - a name and two dates providing a starting point for research.

One short dash between the dates on a gravestone may be the only indicator of a whole lifetime. Sometimes, however, the gravestones yield more insights into the deceased’s life – or death. One small graveyard in a corner of the Shetland mainland has it all – the scenery, the stones and the story.

Eshaness cemetery © Nicholas Davidson

Eshaness cemetery is tiny – perhaps fifteen hundred square metres, walled off from the surrounding fields. It’s set on a long green slope leading up to the lighthouse and the famous Eshaness cliffs. The land is salted with sheep and lambs, the occasional wild bird startles the scene. It’s difficult to imagine a more peaceful place. Yet in this spot 166 years ago a gravestone was laid by a bereaved friend seething with grief and rage, now immortalised in stone and memory.

Donald Robertson, born 14th January 1785, died 4th June 1848, aged 63 years.
He was a peaceable, quiet man and to all appearance a sincere Christian.
His death was much regretted, which was caused by the stupidity of Laurence Tulloch in Clothister (Sullom) who sold him nitre instead of Epsom salts by which he was killed in the space of 5 hours after taking a dose of it.

Much regretted © Nicholas Davidson

37-year-old Laurence Tulloch was brought to trial in Lerwick on August 19th 1848 where he was charged with ‘culpable homicide and the reckless and negligent sale of Saltpetre instead of Epsom Salts’. The case was heard by sheriff Charles Neaves and a jury of fifteen men, who pronounced Tulloch guilty yet asked for leniency due to his good character. Nonetheless, the knowledge of what he had done and the ostracism by the community led Tulloch and his family to leave the isles not long after, never to return.

Remote © Ceris Aston
If you’re as fascinated by the story as we were, check out the local HEARD website for more on both the deceased and the man responsible for his death.

In the meantime, why not tell us about your own favourite graveyards?

Happy #throwbackthursday!