The Mysterious Alexander Feaviour

The only confirmed photograph of my great-great grandfather.

My great-great grandfather, Alexander Edward Feaviour, was born on June 7, 1882 in Harleston, Norfolk. He was the youngest child of Robert Feaviour and Emma Whitney.

His daughter, Maizee, was my great grandmother. I knew Maizee well, as she died when I was twelve years old. I visited her many times with my grandmother. But I never asked her anything about family history at the time.

It was only years later when I was given a copy of her family history, researched by my great aunt and uncle, that I discovered her rich and interesting background.

Maizee never knew her father. He died only two weeks before she was born. He had problems with his heart, something that she would inherit and still pops up in the family today.

It seems that her father was never discussed while she was growing up. She knew so little that there were stories that he was french, to go along with the french sounding surname. But surely a simple chat with her mother would reveal that he was a native of Norfolk? The family has been traced back to the 1600s and have all been English so far.

My theory is that her step-father, by all accounts a cruel man, stopped any talk of him whatsoever.

When my great aunt and uncle decided to look into the family history, they discovered just how interesting the Feaviours were.

Why I Started Researching My Family History

My grandparents got divorced when my dad was five years old. My grandmother raised my father and his siblings after that. Growing up, I knew her parents, my great-grandparents. I met other members of her family at visits to her house, weddings, funerals and other family events. I saw pictures of her grandparents hung up on her living room wall. There were no questions to be asked as far as her family was concerned.

But my paternal grandfather's family, the one from which I have inherited my surname, was more of a mystery. When you're young you don't think about asking questions. There were photos of my grandparent's wedding and some stories of my dad's early childhood but that was it.

I assumed that what I learned just through growing up was all there was to know.

One day I casually expressed this to my dad. "It's a shame that I don't know who my great-granddad Knighton was".

My dad looked confused. "My granddad? His name was Tom. He divorced my dad's mum, got remarried and emigrated to Australia."

Hearing this completely blew my mind. I assumed that my dad knew nothing about his paternal grandparents. Looking back, I realise there was no reason to believe that since I never asked.

I asked for more details. "There was one story that was in the paper. He was famous for carrying an 18-stone sack of wheat for a full mile, it was for charity I think."

This captured my imagination immediately. This made my great-granddad sound like a folk hero, a local strongman.

I was determined to find a copy of that newspaper article. Maybe there would be a photo?

Google searches for the event itself turned up nothing. I decided to broaden my search and see if there was any record of just the man himself. I knew that he moved to Australia. "Tom Knighton Australia" brought up something interesting.

It was an obituary. Tom Knighton had died in 2009 at the age of 88, and it listed the names of all of his children including my grandfather.

This started my journey down the rabbit hole. Now I knew his age, so I could roughly work out when he was born. It was this fact that lead me to family history sites like Genes Reunited and Ancestry.co.uk. Before I spent any money on them, I asked for advice from other members.

They quickly found some information, and I was given his birth record along with the names of his parents (my great-great grandparents) and his siblings.

My great-great grandparents? Nobody ever thinks about their great-great grandparents. Now that I know their names, could I go even further back? Is it that easy? I also know the names of his siblings, what happened to them?

Well now I was hooked. I had an account on Ancestry, I was tracing my family back further than I ever imagined. I saw my grandmother and asked more about her family. I was given a treasure trove of old photos. I saw my maternal grandparents and asked about their family in Scotland (more on that in a future post).

But still, I wanted to find that newspaper article about my great-grandfather's feat of strength. I wanted a photo.

One day on Ancestry, a photograph popped up in my searches. It was of a white-haired old man named Rowland Knighton. Rowland Knighton? That was my great-grandfather's brother's name!

I sent a message to the man who uploaded it. It was his son. Now if Rowland was his father, then that means Tom, my great-grandfather, was his uncle.

I asked him if he knew about this story with the sack of wheat.

An email arrived from him. "I think you'll be pleased!" was in the message.

There it was! The photograph I was searching for, and proof of the story. I found out more details; the year it occurred, the fact that other men participated. It deserves a blog post of it's own, so watch out for that.

But it wasn't only that photo that was included. There were photos of my great-great grandparents, photos dating back to World War I, even photos of my great-great-great grandfather!

Months before, I didn't think there was anything to know. Now, I knew the name and had seen the face of my Great-Great-Great Granddad Knighton.

It just goes to show what you can get if you just ask.