Back To The Archives Once Again - Trying To Find Stephen, Sarah, and Benjamin

I was up bright and early, down to breakfast for 7:45, out of the door by 8:15 and up to the station for 8:30 to catch the 8:45 train to Norwich.  It was going to be a good day in trying to find the baptismal records of my great-great-grandparents, Stephen Moore of pit hole fame, and his wife Sarah Page.  Only problem was the train had left at 8:25 and the next train wasn't until 9:45.  So much for reading timetables, eh!?

I walked across the street to the newstand, and picked up "The Independent" to do the Sudoku puzzles (they have 3 of them in each issue!) and to catch up on the news.  In all the time I've been here, I haven't watched a single minute of television.  Just grabbed a newspaper, turned to the Sudoku puzzles, and scanned the pages.  Not to say that I haven't been keeping up with what's been happening.  It's just that I now get most of my news online.

The train arrived right on schedule and we immediately started off for Norwich.  I find it incredible the number of rabbits you can see in the fields as the train travels the countryside!  There are literally thousands of them and most of them stand looking at the train as it whizzes by.  You can see the mother rabbit with half a dozen small ones around her munching on the grass and the farmers' crops!  They have to be thicker than mice.  Here's a shot of just two of them in a field of about a hundred.  And are they ever nice and fat ready for the pot!

Why my pre-occupation with the bunny rabbits?  When I was 8 years old, I got my first pet - a bunny rabbit called, of course, "Bunny Boy".  I built a cage out of two wooden orange crates complete with two doors, kept him outside in a cage in the Spring, Summer and Fall, and inside in the cellar with the dirt floor in the winter.  One Fall day "Bunny Boy" escaped from his cage but only for a few hours.  Just before Christmas I found out that "Bunny Boy" was really "Bunny Girl" with a litter of about 6 rabbits.  Anyhoo..... That was my first lesson about the birds-and-the-bees...................

Arriving at the Norfolk Archives for 11:15, I started cruising through the microfilm and microfiche trying to find baptismal records for Stephen Moore and Sarah Page between 1755 and 1765 but no luck.  The negatives (white writing on black background) are really poor on both the Parish Records and the Archdeacon copies. 

I had previously had a conversation with a professional researcher who gave me some tips on what other records I might search.  In between looking at the microfilm and microfiche, I looked at the indexes to the Poor Laws (persons receiving charity) records.  It was interesting to note that scarlet fever had hit Letheringsett in 1825 and again in 1835.  As I was cruising the burial records, it was evident that this was so. 

Michael and Susan Whelan were there when I arrived.  We all went to lunch in the Norfolk County employees cafeteria and had a good chat. 

Michael and I are related through our great-great-grandparents, Matthew Moore and Elizabeth Gidney. My great-grandfather, Edmund Moore, and his great-grandmother, Hannah Moore, were brother and sister.  

They were going to do some sight seeing in the afternoon so I went back to the Archives to continue my search. 

The above marriage record is an example of how things can get complicated in trying to locate records.  The baptism of Hannah Moore was easy to find as she was born in Letheringsett, the Parish Records that I was scanning.  But I couldn't find her marriage or subsequent death.  In an entirely different direction, Michael had found her marriage but in the parish of Hindringham, about 5 miles down the road from Letheringsett.  My on-line searches of the Freereg.org.uk databases (with a few "wild-cards" thrown in) didn't yield any results in my search for the baptism of Stephen Moore and Sarah Page.  This will probably be one of those "needle-in-the-haystack" problems.

Leaving the Norfolk Archives at 5:05, I caught the 5:45 train back to Sheringham.  Right in the middle of the station was parked a Network Rail track inspection train. This was simply two "Sprinter" cars loaded with the equipment to check the rails, sleepers, and roadbed so that the track maintenance crews can fix any problems.

Approaching the 4th-to-last stop in the middle of the countryside, a young lad asked me in halting English if he was on the correct train.  I couldn't understand him as he was speaking with an accent.  Out of the blue I said "Parlez-vous francais?" to which he replied "Oui"!  So we ended up speaking French for the last 20 minutes into Sheringham.  How's that, eh!?  Have to travel 3,000 miles across the pond just to speak French.  I helped him find a taxi and then I went on to the Lobster for dinner and to take a look at my e-mail. 

I'm off to the shops at Weybourne today.  I want to go back to Letheringsett on Saturday or Sunday to cruise around, take a trip up to Stephen Moore's pit hole, and talk to the couple who know a lot about Letheringsett.