Would a web site be helpful in family history research?

Does anybody out there have the surname Pile or Pyle?  Perhaps you might have a different spelling or even just added an ‘s’ at the end.  It is quite probable that if your family originated from England, or even from other parts of the UK, that I have some of your ancestors noted in my database, with a relevant date and fact.

I started this database as soon as I bought my first computer and found that lovely program ‘Excel’. At first I only put in all the instances of the name George because that is the name of my ancestor who has created a big brick wall in my research.  But, of course, he had a wife and children and so they were added and now there are several thousand names and plenty of facts to go with them.  The UK census, Wills and the parish records have helped me to sort them into family groups and now I have this information and I’m pretty sure that quite a few Piles and Pyles out there would like to share in this and know a bit more about who their ancestors were and where they came from.

What do you say?  Is a family history web site too difficult to create?  Could I link it to my database so that it is searchable?  It’s a big step and if you could give any encouragement or help that would be great!  I am thinking of doing it, but need a push in the right direction.

The Family Historian’s Dilemma

 

At first, in researching family history, finding even something as simple as your grandmother’s maiden name is exciting.  Finding new great-uncles and aunts, their occupations and their comings and goings puts depth into your research.  But, sooner or later the family historian is going to find the skeleton in the closet.  And there’s one in every family.  I don’t mean to brag but I think I’ve got three skeletons.

 I don’t mind sharing the first with you because the information is there for all to read in the records of the Old Bailey and in the pages of the London Gazette (an absolute mine of information).  It’s just a bit embarrassing admitting that, yes, that chap is one of my ancestors and no, he wasn’t in prison for too long, just three months.  I can explain away the circumstances and blame the banks of the time for not lending money to budding entrepreneurs – he never actually stole the money, did he?  And lots of others did it too.

 Should I share the second skeleton’s secret?  It’s written on the marriage certificate so it’s certainly in the public domain.  But they wanted the divorce kept quiet in 1915.  It really wasn’t the done thing to admit to eloping and having children out of wedlock and I think my grandparents would have been very dismayed at having their private life revealed for all and sundry to see and wonder over.  Such details provide good pickings for a professional biographer; for them, every skeleton brings good sales.  But usually the family historian is not in that kind of market and so our skeletons raise tricky dilemmas. Should curiosity and research be tempered with a little respect for one’s ancestors?  Should it be shared?

 What about the third?  He was always described as the black sheep of the family.  But I thought that was a romantic thing to be.  I couldn’t understand why the United Reform branch of the family was so cross when he married a Catholic girl.  Surely that couldn’t make him a black sheep?  Why, he and I shared some family resemblance – he couldn’t be all bad.  I just sympathised.  And then I found out more and although I’m glad I found out, I just wish I hadn’t.  I didn’t want to connect my relative with the deserting soldier who lived with his venereal disease and his drunkenness, abandoned his wife and then died at an early age of nephritis.  But, it may be possible, dear reader, that you find these horrible facts of use.  You find my great uncle’s life can inform your lifestyle decisions and you vow never to tread the path of the black sheep?  So be it, researching has done some good.

 Well, I’ve shared my skeletons whether they liked it or not because it’s a tricky area that does need discussion.  But should I have told you the details?  Should I have researched them in the first place?  That’s the family historian’s dilemma.