Saturday, February 26, 2011

Archival Research: The Dicocesan Archive

My first reading of the records gathered by digital image from the Civil Registration Office revealed Manuel Gosende Llanes and Manuela Sorribas Castaño received an ecclesiastical pardon prior to their  4 January 1882 marriage. The key phrase that caught my immediate attention ". . .  consanguinidiad en tercer grado" (third degree of consanguinity) indicated another reason to consult the Catholic Church records. 

 Rexistro Civil de Rois (Rois, A Coruña, Spain),  "Matrimonios 1880-1883,"  Secc. 2a, Tomo 8, Folio 53, no. 1., 4 Jan 1882, Manuel Gosende Llanes and Manuela Sorribas Castaño marriage; Rexistro Civil Xulgado de Paz [Civil Register-Justice of the Peace], Rois.
Rexistro Civil de Rois (Rois, A Coruña, Spain),  "Matrimonios 1880-1883,"  Secc. 2a, Tomo 8, Folio 53v, no. 1., 4 Jan 1882, Manuel Gosende Llanes and Manuela Sorribas Castaño marriage; Rexistro Civil Xulgado de Paz [Civil Register-Justice of the Peace], Rois.

Third degree of consanguinity meant that Manuel and Manuela were most likely blood relatives--specifically second cousins--and had to receive special permission from the Church before they could marry. If a pre-marriage investigation indicated the need for a marriage dispensation the parish priest started the process, which required an official written, witnessed, and signed explanation outlining the family relationships. Locating a document such as this would be a treasured find! Because marriage dispensations were usually granted by the diocesan bishop, the records most likely are found in the diocesan archive. (If you'd like to read more about marriage dispensations in Spanish research, check out the August 25, 2007 entry on Lynn Turner's blog.)

According to my initial locality and records survey, the diocesan archive in Santiago de Compostela opened in the late afternoon. Imagine our frustration when we arrived at the appointed hour only to find a locked door and a four hour differential! The information concerning the hours of operation, obtained via the archive's web site, did not reflect the change. We wasted a whole day waiting for the archive to open. The lesson learned from this experience? When you arrive in town, double-check the archive's hours before finalizing your research plan.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

On-site Research: Civil Registration Records

Concello de Rois
Two-fold in purpose, the 2006 Family History/Emigration Research Internship proved to be a whirlwind experience requiring continual adjustment and coordination in schedules. We had only three days to research in Galicia before we moved northeast to Asturias, Cantábria and Guipúzcoa. While the guys continued to gather historical records related to Spanish emigration, the girls worked to gather records related to my specific family of interest.

Xulgado de Paz - the office for Civil Registration
Though eagerly anticipating our Tuesday night meeting with the parish priest, Monday's work required our full focus and attention. The Civil Registration records for Ribasar were located in the rural municipality of Rois (click the Archival Research in Galicia link under the Related Sites tab for map). Our work in this tiny office was a very pleasant experience. The documents were organized and well-cared for and most importantly, the secretary was wonderful and very helpful. Except to request another book, we tried not to interrupt his work; however, I am sure our occasional whispered observations and questions to one another served to distract him from his tasks. Nevertheless, he let us look through all the books and take digital photos of the documents related to our research. Due to the small population base, this office had limited hours of operation--we only had four hours to complete our research. Needless to say, that time passed very quickly! The un-indexed registration books required  page-by-page research. Lucky for us, the records were in very good condition, easy to read, and well-organized in bound books.

At the secretary's suggestion, we listed the documents we had identified as pertinent to my research project. After we left he saw to it that photo copies were ready (at no charge!) for pickup just a couple of days later. Having the digital images allowed me to read through the documents later that evening and enter the data into my family history database. From my analysis I discovered something very interesting. . . tune in next week for a full explanation.

Fancy manhole cover!

Saturday, February 12, 2011

"If at first you don't succeed try, try again."

"If at first you don't succeed try, try again;" these words of wisdom learned from my grandmother frequently popped into my thoughts during my 2006 Family History/Emigration Research Internship. Hoping to demonstrate how preliminary preparation and study coupled with polite persistence and a sensitivity to culture and customs often brings about positive results, I share a detailed account concerning my experience locating Ribasar's missing parish records .

The welcoming committee
The guard









Late Sunday afternoon driver and photographer Scott Jarvie, IAP Coordinator Leandro Soria, and I drove out to the parish church of Santa Mariña de Ribasar. When we arrived one car remained in the parking lot and the gate to the church grounds stood wide open. Greeted by honking geese and the sound of the neighbor's barking dog, we walked around the outside of the church hoping to find someone who could help us. Unfortunately, no one seemed to be around. Uncertain of our next step, we took a few photos of the church and the cemetery. While there, I discovered headstones inscribed with the surname of interest. I wondered how they might be related to the family whose records I came to find.

Santa Mariña de Ribasar Parish Church


Not wanting to leave empty-handed, Scott knocked at the neighbor's door. His persistence and the barking dog soon brought a response. Leandro explained the situation and the next thing I knew a young man sped away from the property on a small motorcycle. Leandro and Scott returned to the car where I waited. Minutes later we heard the motorcycle approach bearing a kind gentleman; the secretary to the parish priest. While I stood next to him listening, Leandro explained the purpose of our visit. The secretary informed us that only the parish priest had access to the records. At first he seemed hesitant to share any information with us, but through casual and respectful conversation Leandro found a way to connect. Soon our new friend suggested we return on Tuesday night. He told us the parish priest planned to make a special trip out to Ribasar to conduct a Funeral Mass for a recently deceased member of the community and we could ask him about the parish church records following the Mass. As a final tidbit of information, he added that a woman related to the ancestor we sought would most likely be in attendance at the Mass. Before we left we thanked him for his help and asked if we could take a few more pictures, to which he replied in the affirmative. As we returned to Santiago de Compostela we made adjustments to our schedules to accommodate another trip to Ribasar.

Prior research told me that parish records for this church began in the 1622, and that their location was uncertain. Armed with that knowledge we knew where to begin our search and we knew to whom we needed to speak. Notice, I didn't say much during the conversation even though Leandro urged me to actively join the conversation. Later I explained.  For this particular situation, in a very conservative traditional culture proper protocol required that I actively listen and allow the men to come to a consensus without much verbal input from me. While it may be difficult for younger people to understand the rational for such an approach, it is very important to know something about the culture, to "read" the social cues, and to remember to be polite and gracious—in all situations.
Santa Mariña de Ribasar
All photos in this post by Scott Jarvie
All photos used with permission

Sunday, February 6, 2011

The Missing Parish Records


In the dark of the night three of us boarded a train headed for the province (provincia) of A Coruña, located in the autonomous community (ayuntamiento) of Galicia, Spain. With our luggage stowed we settled into our sleeping compartments for the all-night journey. The steady clickity-clack sound of the iron wheels against the rails soon lulled us into a deep slumber. The next thing we knew it was morning, and the train slowed to a stop at the station in Santiago de Compostela. Our driver soon met us at the station to take us to our hostel. We had just enough time to freshen up before we headed to church. Sunday was a day to rest a bit and do a little investigative exploration in our new area. 

It was still dark when we pulled into the train depot!

The year was 2006, and I headed the research team for this unusual project. Initially, our task required us to locate the parish church records for a small hamlet just outside of the city. My preliminary research indicated that the records, though in existence, were not stored at the parish church, or at the diocesan archive. The mystery remained unsolved until our arrival. Our inquiry not only led to the records we desired, but also introduced us to some wonderful people. As an added bonus, my associates and I met and interviewed a branch of the family related to the ancestor I sought. Their kindness and hospitality will always remain a treasured highlight of my first research trip in Spain. I attribute our success, in part, to flexibility and teamwork. As it turned out, the parish records had just been sent to the Diocesan archive the week before we arrived in Santiago de Compostela. Civil registration for births, marriages, and deaths began in 1871, so access to the parish records was crucial to my research project. Would the records be available for research?

The Research Team - Spain 2006