My work in the archives showed me just how [...]]]> Before I went to the Latvian State Historical Archives for the first time, I didn’t pay much attention to farm names. Sure, I knew the name of the farm where one of my grandfathers grew up, but I didn’t attach a significance to it beyond an address.

My work in the archives showed me just how important these names are, and they are now what I look at first when looking at an old record.

So what changed? What did I learn?

Knowing farm names makes looking at a census easier and faster. For rural parishes, census records for 1935 and 1941 are usually arranged alphabetically by farm name. It is a great time saver if you know the name of your ancestor’s farm.

Farm names help distinguish individuals with the same name. I have encountered this in my research in Limbaži parish. I was looking through birth records to locate all of my great-grandmother’s siblings when I discovered there were at least four separate men with her father’s name – Ansis Eglītis. Since I knew the name of the farm my great-grandmother was born on, I could identify who her siblings were. I was also helped by the fact that I knew her mother’s full name – Līze Graumane – and that this was also listed. If only the mother’s first name was listed – as is common, particularly in older records – I would have been in trouble, since there were two Ansis Eglītis’ who were married to women named Līze. But because I knew the farm name, I had an extra confirmation that I had the right person.

Farm names can be connected to surnames. This can, sometimes, be a chicken-or-egg situation, but in most cases, farm names came first. Farm names are often based on physical characteristics of the land, and are therefore duplicated many times over throughout Latvia (and these farm names are, consequently, the roots of the most common surnames). In Vijciems parish, where my Celmiņš ancestors are from, there are three farms in a 20km radius called “Celmiņi”. As far as I’ve traced my ancestors, they lived on a farm called “Stampvēveri”. This farm is almost in the centre of the triangle formed by the three Celmiņi farms. I have a suspicion that my ancestors were originally from one of the Celmiņi farms, and then moved to Stampvēveri. Why are there so many farms called “Celmiņi” in Vijciems parish? The area is known for forestry, so it does not seem odd to me that there would be numerous farms called by the diminutive of “tree stumps”.

Knowing a farm name provides insight into another type of history – house history. I have not utilized rural land books yet, but they do exist. I have utilized their urban equivalents, that list occupants and their vital information. I’m given to understand that rural land books provide more information such as farm equipment, animals owned, etc. Some of this information is also available on the 1935 census forms. Depending on its size, there may also be other families living on the farm. They will also appear on the census forms. Census forms will also indicate who is the owner of the property.

Farm names identify concrete places within parishes, which can be located on maps and visited. If you are planning a research or family history trip to Latvia, having concrete locations connected to your family history to visit will make your visit more meaningful. I have only visited one of my ancestral farms thus far (it is owned by my half-uncle), but there are several more I have yet to visit. Contact the current owners ahead of time so that you can obtain permission ot explore the property. You might even happen upon a distant relative by doing so! If you explain your reasons for wanting to visit, most people will be amenable and helpful.

Farm Name Features

• Farm names almost always end in “i” – this is a plural noun ending.
• If there are farms that were established by family members, the names could indicate connections, for example: “Jauncelmiņi” and “Veccelmiņi” (New Celmiņi and Old Celmiņi, respectively). This is not a guarantee of blood relation, however, since farms can change hands, and several families can live on one farm.
• “Leja” means “valley” and “kalns” means “hill” – these are frequently added to the beginnings of farm names as well. It is possible that these come from related properties, or two properties that used to be one, and so on.

Are there any farm names you are particularly curious about? Trying to place a farm on a map? Let me know and I can try to help!

It’s a bit ironic – the ancestors that I have marriage records for are the ones [...]]]> Today’s prompt: Do you have marriage records for your grandparents or great-grandparents? Write a post about where they were married and when. Any family stories about the wedding day? Post a photo too if you have one.

It’s a bit ironic – the ancestors that I have marriage records for are the ones I don’t have photographs for, and vice versa.

Since everyone loves photographs, I’ll stick to talking about the marriages of the couples portrayed within them, though my knowledge of those weddings are slim.

These are my paternal grandparents, Zenta Lūkina and Juris Celmiņš, on their wedding day. They were married in 1943 in Latvia, but I don’t know the date, or where the wedding took place, though it was most likely in Rīga. They were 20 and 23. I had always thought that they met in displaced persons camps in Germany after the war, but then I learned I was wrong. I don’t know how they met. Both of their families were relatively well-off – Zenta’s father was a justice of the peace and former Member of Parliament, while Juris’ father was a bank director (though he may have been deceased by the time his son married, since he died in early 1943).

This photo is of the wedding of my great-grandparents Brencis Līcītis and Jūle Štelmahers, c. 1909. They are the couple in the middle of the second row – Brencis is to the left of Jūle (you can see barely make out the dark corsage on his jacket), and Jūle is in the white dress with the dark edges and flowers in her hair. They would have been married in Krustpils, but that is all I have in terms of details at the moment. Jūle’s parents, Indriķis Štelmahers and Ieva Lapiņa are on the left end of the same row – Indriķis is the blurred figure on the end, Ieva is the older woman in the striped dress. Brencis’ brother, Krišjānis, is on the left end of the third row, just above Indriķis. Ten people in this photograph, mostly people in the top row, remain unidentified.

I’m not sure how Brencis and Jūle met. I only know that Brencis must have moved to Krustpils sometime before 1897 (since he appears in the 1897 All-Russia Census records for Krustpils), while Jūle was born and grew up there. They married relatively late in life for the time period – Jūle was 35, while Brencis was 43. He made harmonicas and repaired other musical instruments. His brother was allegedly a musician in Paris around the turn of the century.

Does anyone know about the Paris music scene of the early 20th century? Ideas on where to start to look for information about musicians from the Russian Empire in that scene? He was apparently quite well-off, though I don’t know if that was due to an inheritance of some kind or an income from music. Thanks for any tips!

Well, the most unusual name in my [...]]]> Today’s prompt: Do you share a first name with one of your female ancestors? Perhaps you were named for your great-grandmother, or your name follows a particular naming pattern. If not, then list the most unique or unusual female first name you’ve come across in your family tree.

Well, the most unusual name in my family tree is my own – Antra. I wasn’t named for anyone, it was a name my parents saw in the Latvian name calendar and liked. It is not a particularly common name – growing up, other Latvian-Canadians would ask me if my name was Latvian, and I, confused, since I knew my name came from the name calendar, would tell them that it was. I only know two other Latvian-North-Americans with this name.

It is more common in Latvia though – nowhere near the top of the list, but popular enough that I can find pre-printed items with my name on them. It is more popular than names that I thought were quite common, such as Zinta and Krista. Despite modern-day (relative) popularity, I have yet to see it in any old record.

Women’s names in my family do not seem to follow any sort of pattern. A count of women’s names in my family tree (my name included, direct line only):

• Anna – 4.
• Ieva – 3.
• Līze – 2.
• Aina, Antra, Dorotea, Ēde, Jūle, Kače, Karlīne, Kristīne, Lilija, Marija, Mārīte, Mērija, Mīle, Vija, Zenta – 1.

There we have 18 names, 24 individuals. Anna and Ieva still remain some of the most popular female names, though the popularity of Līze has dropped off dramatically. Other names, such as Aina and Vija, I haven’t seen anywhere in old records, even though they are very popular now. Names that appear frequently in old records, such as Mīle and Jūle, are almost unheard of these days.

Tomorrow: – marriages! And hopefully I’ll get my post on farm names up as well.

I’m cheating, and posting two. While looking through my photos, I realized that I have very few of female ancestors by themselves. There were a couple, but not [...]]]> Today’s prompt:Post a photo of one of your female ancestors. Who is in the photo? When was it taken? Why did you select this photo?

I’m cheating, and posting two. While looking through my photos, I realized that I have very few of female ancestors by themselves. There were a couple, but not many. As such, it seemed more appropriate to post photos where they are not by themselves, but rather, with family.

These two photos are of my grandfathers’ families, c. 1925-1930. My grandfathers are the young boys in the pictures, but I am going to talk about their mothers – my great-grandmothers.

This is my maternal grandfather’s family. His mother’s name was Mērija Eglīte. She was born in Lāde parish to Ansis Eglītis and Līze Graumane on September 10, 1892. She was born on the family farm, which belonged to her mother’s family (and belongs to my half-uncle today). Mērija lived there until the farm was expropriated by the Soviets, at which point she and her daughter moved to Rīga. Mērija died on March 11, 1973. Her husband had been executed by the Soviets in 1941, and her son fled west during the war, settling here in Canada. They never saw each other again.

This is my paternal grandfather’s family. His mother’s name was Anna Liepa. She was born in Rīga to Fricis Liepa and Mīle Buše on September 23, 1895. She worked as a bookkeeper, while her husband was a civil servant who was responsible for helping set up the postal savings bank, which still exists today. Anna, her husband and their two children moved around a lot during the 1920s, living at many different addresses in Rīga and Jūrmala. I do not know why they moved so much. Her husband died in 1943 due to causes unrelated to the war. Her son left for the west during the war, while her daughter remained in Latvia. Anna died in Rīga on June 20, 1987. As such, she holds the distinction of being the only one of my great-grandparents who was still living when I was born in 1984. However, I never had the opportunity to meet her, since I was born in Canada and she lived in Latvia, which was at that time still under Soviet control.

I find the similarities between the life events of these two women quite interesting, and the photos reflect those similarities. They both had two children, one boy and one girl, the boy being the elder child. They both outlived their husbands, who died during wartime, by several decades. Both of their sons left for the west, while their daughters stayed in Latvia.

Tomorrow’s prompt- Names! One of my favourite subjects.

I’ve realized that on this blog I talk a lot [...]]]> I am working on the posts about the All-Russia Census and farm names, but as a warm-up to get in the spirit of the blogging world again, I’m also going to participate in The Accidental Genealogist’s “Fearless Females: 31 Blogging Prompts to Celebrate Women’s History Month”.

I’ve realized that on this blog I talk a lot about my male ancestors, so I hope that by participating in this blogging prompt month that I can highlight some of the women in my family tree, as well as educate about Latvian women throughout history, both “big event” history and home and community life.

Today’s prompt: Do you have a favorite female ancestor? One you are drawn to or want to learn more about? Write down some key facts you have already learned or what you would like to learn and outline your goals and potential sources you plan to check.

I can’t say I have a favourite female ancestor, but the one I want to learn more about right now is Ieva Līcīte, one of my great-great-grandmothers. All I know of her so far is that she was living on the Līcīši farm in Sērenes parish in 1866, when she had my great-grandfather, Brencis, out of wedlock. She may have had a second son, Krišjānis – my great-aunt remembers meeting her uncle Krišjānis when she was a little girl, but it is unknown whether he was Brencis’ full brother or half-brother, and if half-brother, then through which parent, since while Brencis’ father might not have been officially recognized on the birth record, they probably did know who it was.

My great-aunt and grandmother do not recall meeting Ieva, their paternal grandmother, so it is possible that she passed away before they were born. I have searched the marriage records for both Seces congregation and Jaunjelgavas congregation (the congregations where people in Sērene parish were most likely to have their life events recorded), but have yet to find any trace of a marriage or death record for Ieva. There are several other nearby congregations that I could check as well, such as Zalve and Sunākste. I will also begin searching for her birth record – chances are good that she was born in Sērenes parish as well, since she lived in “Līcīši”, which is the farm name version of her surname. I would like to learn more about her and her family, since this branch of the family is the one that I know the least about.

Having children out of wedlock was not uncommon in 19th century Latvia – in the records I’ve looked at, there are at least four or five every year, sometimes more. Often there were times when children were conceived out of wedlock, but quick marriages would take place before the child was born. In the time period when German barons and lords still owned most of the land, it was not uncommon for these barons and lords to involve themselves with the young women who lived on their estate. If a pregnancy resulted, the baron or lord would quietly ask one of the young men on the estate to marry the girl, and if he did so, he would receive his own land, and sometimes a position of prestige.

Tomorrow: Photographs!

There are thousands of people in the West with Latvian ancestry. Many are searching for their Latvian ancestors, but often encounter a variety of misconceptions about Latvian genealogical research, or don’t know where to start.

I [...]]]> [This post was written for the 26th edition of the Carnival of Central and Eastern European Genealogy, hosted by Jessica's Genejournal.]

There are thousands of people in the West with Latvian ancestry. Many are searching for their Latvian ancestors, but often encounter a variety of misconceptions about Latvian genealogical research, or don’t know where to start.

I will be addressing the latter soon, with a step-by-step guide on how to get started with Latvian research. Really, I should have done that when I started this blog, but better late than never!

For now though, I want to address the former – myths and misconceptions about Latvian research. I’ll admit, when I first got started, I believed some of them as well. But now I’ve learned that the task of researching your Latvian ancestors is not as difficult or impossible as it may seem.

Myth: Since Latvia was a battleground through both world wars and numerous smaller ones, as well as being controlled by totalitarian political regimes, this means the records are all destroyed.

Fact: Records survive! Certainly, some disappear or get destroyed throughout the years, but this happens everywhere. But the vast majority of records you will want to seek out for Latvian genealogical research do exist today. Precisely what is available will vary from parish to parish, but because of the variety of records, it is extremely unlikely that all records for a given area were destroyed or have gone missing.

Myth: You need to be able to speak Latvian to do Latvian genealogical research.

Fact: Only partially true. While knowing Latvian is a great asset for research after 1918, prior to that, most records were in German or Russian, both of which are languages spoken more widely than Latvian. But even if you don’t speak any of them, a dictionary or genealogical word list will help you extract the information that you are looking for.

Myth: The surname of my ancestors from Latvia is German or Russian, so that means my ancestors were German or Russian.

Fact: Not necessarily. Latvian peasants (the majority of the population) only acquired surnames in the nineteenth century, and it was not uncommon for them to choose German or Slavic names (even though officially they were encouraged to choose Latvian ones). While Latvia has always been a multiethnic country with many German and Russian inhabitants, surnames alone cannot determine ethnicity. I will be addressing how to sort out ethnicity soon.

Myth: It is difficult to access Latvian records.

Fact: Numerous Latvian genealogical records are available online at Raduraksti – religious BMD records, the All-Russia Census, and a growing number of revision lists. Now, they are not indexed (yet! I’m working on it) or searchable, so you need to read through the handwritten pages, but they are accessible anywhere in the world. For other records, you would need to visit (or write to) the Latvian State Historical Archives in Rīga. Obtaining a reading room pass is fairly straightforward, and the staff are wonderful and will help you find what you need. Not everyone speaks English, but there will usually be someone around who does. If you want to know the Latvian names for records to search before you go so you have an easier time, let me know and I can try to help you.

Myth: I met someone with the same surname. We must be related!

Fact: Just like in other countries, having the same surname does not imply kinship. The most common Latvian surnames arose independently across the country from what were farm names, which were in turn often based on physical characteristics of the area. Remember also, that while Latvian surnames might sound “exotic” to non-Latvian speakers, many of these names are extremely common in Latvia. My Latvian Surname Project is growing, and while I haven’t even covered a tenth of the parishes in Latvia, looking at some of the names there and the number of different places they are attested can begin to give an idea of how common or uncommon a name may be.

Now, if these ancestors with the same surname were from the same parish, it is much more likely, since when surnames were being assigned, there were efforts made to not duplicate the names within estates or parishes. That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, but since surnames came about because rulers needed a way to distinguish these newly freed peasants from one another, it would not have happened often.

Myth: A different surname means a different family, and thus not a relation.

Fact: Just like the inverse above, this is also not necessarily true. The family surname was chosen by the patriarch – he chose the surname that he, his wife, his unmarried daughters, his adult sons and their families, would bear. If the family patriarch was deceased, the brothers could each choose a different surname for their families. Since this only happened in the nineteenth century, it is important to be aware of these potentially different surnames within a family, especially if you are interested in finding living distant cousins. To trace family groups through this time period of surname acquisition, family numbers in population registers and revision lists are invaluable. Since this number remained the same from year to year, it can help match up families in the times before and after surname acquisition.

Any myths that I’ve missed? Questions? Let me know and I’ll try to answer them!

The Surname Project has 153 new names, including BĒRZLAPA and MIEŽUVĀRPA. That brings the total number of surnames in the project so far to 521!

I’m afraid I don’t have a Record Project update this time – life has gotten in the way. I’ve also had a bit of trouble [...]]]> The Latvian Surname Project has been updated!

The Surname Project has 153 new names, including BĒRZLAPA and MIEŽUVĀRPA. That brings the total number of surnames in the project so far to 521!

I’m afraid I don’t have a Record Project update this time – life has gotten in the way. I’ve also had a bit of trouble loading Raduraksti recently – has anyone else been having this problem?

I’ve been a bit quiet for the past week, but even though I’m starting a new job tomorrow, I’m hoping to be back in action with a bunch of interesting blog posts in the next weeks. Stay tuned!

The user interface is available in Latvian and in English, though, obviously, the newspapers themselves are in Latvian (with the exception of one German-language and [...]]]> Through the website Periodika, the Latvian National Library offers digital scans of newspapers from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Most newspaper editions available are from the 1920s and 1930s.

The user interface is available in Latvian and in English, though, obviously, the newspapers themselves are in Latvian (with the exception of one German-language and two Russian-language newspapers). They are also searchable – but with a few things to note:

• They have been digitized for search purposes by OCR (optical character recognition) – this means that it isn’t perfect. If you rely only on searches, you might not find everything you are looking for. If you know what you are looking for and when, it is also a good idea to scan through the paper yourself to see if the OCR didn’t pick it up.
• Diacritic marks matter. When I looked up the surname of one of my great-grandfathers: “Lukins” gave me different results than “Lūkins” did (but both search results included him, since sometimes the diacritic was used and sometimes it wasn’t). So if the name you are looking for uses diacritics, search for the name both with and without them.
• If the name you’re searching for resembles another Latvian word, put it in quotation marks. When I just searched for Francis (a family surname), without quotation marks, it also modified that to include Francija (France) as a result. But if I put “Francis” with quotation marks, I got closer to results I was looking for without having to wade through articles about France. However, this also runs the risk of leaving out the name when it is declined into various cases, so use this with caution, and run some more searches with the name in its declined forms.

I found articles that referred to three of my great-grandparents, and I’m still looking through all of the Saeima (Parliament) meeting notes that include my great-grandfather Augusts Lūkins, who was a member of the 3rd and 4th Saeima. A great find to learn more about these family members!

Have you found any interesting articles about your ancestors? Do you need help determining diacritic marks or case declensions of your Latvian surnames? Let me know and I can help!

While not all obeyed this directive and chose German names (or had German names assigned to them [...]]]> When Latvian peasants were choosing surnames after emancipation from serfdom, they were strongly encouraged by the German and Russian rulers to choose names in their own language, and were forbidden to choose names of local nobles or famous people.

While not all obeyed this directive and chose German names (or had German names assigned to them by clerks), many did choose names from the Latvian language. Predictably, most of these names were drawn from elements important to the everyday life of peasants.

Which brings us to today’s Surname Saturday – Latvian surnames that have roots in food or food production! I’m going to tell a story of preparing dinner. Surnames I’ve come across appear in bold, the English translation and in what parish records I’ve seen them in brackets.

Before you can even start to prepare dinner, unless you are a Mednieks (hunter; Liepāja) or a Zvejnieks (fisherman; Skulte, Sece), you will need to pay a visit to the Miesnieks (butcher; Brenguļi). You should also thank the Arājs (ploughman; Sece) and Gaitnieks (farmhand; Lugaži) for the work they’ve done in the fields. And, of course, the Pavārs (cook; Kastrāne, Limbaži, Suntaži)!

Protein is important. At the moment, on the menu you will find Zaķis (rabbit; Limbaži, Kastrāne, Vidriži) and Līdaka (pike; Limbaži, Smiltene). I’m not sure how common Lasis (salmon; Bīriņi) was in Latvia in the nineteenth century, but you will find it on today’s menu. If you are a vegetarian, you will need to settle for an Oliņa (diminutive of egg; Lēdurga).

No meal is complete without grains. But what grain? You can have auzas (singular Auza, diminutive Auziņš – oats; Straupe, Limbaži, Suntaži), mieži (singular Miezis, diminutive Miezītis – barley; Limbaži, Suntaži, Vidriži) or rudzi (singular Rudzis, diminutive Rudzītis – rye; Lēdurga, Limbaži, Nabe, Sidgunda). From these grains we can make a Maizīte (diminutive of bread, refers to sandwich in modern Latvian; Sece, Lēdurga) or a Sausiņš (rusk; Limbaži).

You can’t forget the vegetables! Before the arrival of the Kartupelis (potato; Ikšķile) in Europe, the Rācenis (turnip; Limbaži, Rauna) was a staple peasant food. These can be supplemented with kāposti (singular Kāposts – cabbage; Aloja), sēnes (singular Sēne – mushroom; Trikāta) and zirņi (singular Zirnis – pea; Mangaļi). Maybe later you can also have some other saknes (singular Sakne – vegetable; Dunte).

Perhaps this all seems quite bland. Not to worry – spices to the rescue! Would you prefer Kanēlis (cinnamon; Limbaži), or perhaps Ķimenes (caraway; Skulte, Vidriži)? Or maybe just Ķiploks (garlic; Smiltene) would be to your taste?

What would dinner be without dessert? You could have an Auglis (fruit; Sece) like an Ābols (apple; Limbaži) or a Plūme (plum; Kastrāne, Lēdurga, Limbaži, Nabe). Other than just Cukurs (sugar; Trikāta, Vijciems), I’m afraid we’re limited in other saldumi (singular Saldums – sweet treat; Limbaži) at the moment.

To drink, unless you are a Vīndzērājs (wine drinker; Rīga), you will be drinking Ūdens (water; Lugaži) today.

When you’ve finished your meal, be sure to push in your Krēsliņš (diminutive of chair; Rauna) when you leave the Galdiņš (diminutive of table; Ludza).

I hope you enjoyed your time in this Latvian peasant kitchen, and I hope to see you again next Saturday when we talk about the local wildlife!