Week 49: Craft #52Ancestors

My mother’s mother (“Nana”) was the craftiest person I ever knew. She had an old White sewing machine which she used to make pretty crinoline dresses for me and my sister and the awnings for her house (no lie). She also had a green, green thumb and grew the most glorious hydrangeas in her back yard. She was such a great cook that our family cherishes many of her recipes to this day. When we were kids, a friend of hers gave Nana tons of grapes for jelly. I don’t know how many jars of jelly she made, but they lasted our family of seven almost an entire year – we would just be running out of jelly when the new batch would arrive. I remember being fascinated by the huge jelly-making productions. I distinctly recall the paraffin she used to seal the jars and how you had to be careful when you broke it not to get the wax all in the jelly. 

Born on 13 April 1891 in Newark, New Jersey to Charles Edward Spencer and Mary Josephine McGann, Nana’s birth certificate does not list her name. However, it does name her parents, their address and other details that make me confident I have the correct birth record.[1] Her baptismal certificate records her full name: Catherine Josephine Spencer.[2] 

Before she married, Nana worked as a jeweler. The family story is that when she got engaged, her boss told her to design her own engagement ring and he would give it to her as a wedding present. My sister inherited that ring and it is quite beautiful!

Nana was one of three children born to Charles and Mary. Sadly, her two brothers, Charles and Herbert, died in their twenties.[3]  She married Charles P. Maier, Jr., when she was thirty and they had two children: my mom and my uncle (see Week 24 for this grandfather & Week 10 for this uncle). Charles was an electrician and also owned a tavern in Newark. Catherine was listed in the city directories as the vice-president and secretary of the company, Charles P. Maier, Inc.[4]

Nana’s husband died in 1953 when she was sixty-two. He had been living in Canada with his mother for some time prior to his death because of the superior health-care system there. Living on her own for many years, she sometimes took in boarders to make ends meet. I inherited a couple ceramic jars from her and the story was that these were a gift from one of her boarders, a ship’s captain. I have no idea if that is true and the jars have no markings on them to indicate their origin. I love them regardless.

We grandkids would spend lots of time over at Nana’s house. I remember loving it there as I had no competition from three rowdy brothers and a little sister. Her house was super close to my elementary school, so I liked to stay there in the wintertime because the walk was shorter. She moved in with my family in 1969 and lived with us until her death in 1975.[5]

Catherine lost her only son, Charles Jr., in 1964 when he was thirty-seven.[6] After losing her brothers at an early age, this must have been an especially painful blow. On the anniversary of his death, she would go to morning mass and then spend the rest of the day home, with the shades drawn, crying. One or more of her grandchildren would stay with her that day to keep her company and tend to her needs. Even as a child I could see how painful it was for her to lose a child. My brother-in-law and his wife just lost their only son a few months ago and their courage, strength, and composure is amazing. My heart breaks for them as it did for my Nana all those years ago. 

While she could be as hard as nails, my memory is that Nana was loved by nearly everyone who knew her.[7] When I was a teenager, I took Catherine as my confirmation name to honor her. A beautiful woman, inside and out, some of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren are blessed to have inherited her crafting abilities, especially her great-granddaughter, Becca, who is especially gifted.

[1] New Jersey Births and Christenings, 1660-1980, “Births Atlantic-Essex,” volume 34, 1890-1891, Spencer, 13 April 1891; FamilySearch, FHL microfilm 494,216.

[2] St. Columbia’s Church, Newark New Jersey, 17 September 1953, Certificate of Baptism, Catherine Josephine Spencer, 1 November 1891; citing Baptismal Register of the church [presumably this was obtained in preparation for her daughter’s marriage later in 1953].

[3] Holy Sepulchre Cemetery (East Orange, New Jersey), burial card for Charles B. Spencer (1908); digital image, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/search/film/007900345?cat=230108 : accessed at Family History Library affiliate 25 July 2018), FHL microfilm 007900345, image 2704 of 5736. Find A Grave, database with images (http://www.findagrave.com : accessed 6 December 2019), memorial 69974638, Herbert J. Spencer (1897-1918), Holy Sepulchre Cemetery, East Orange, New Jersey; gravestone photograph by Cecelia Baty.

[4] Newark Directory, 1938 (Newark: The Price & Lee Co., 1938), 796; digital image, “U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995,” Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 6 December 2019), image 409 of 778.

[5] Orange Health Department, Orange, New Jersey, certificate of death no. 799, Catherine J. Maier, 26 November 1975. Maplewood Library, “Real Estate Files of Jacqueline Kuett Faupel,” 19 Girard Place (http://www.digifind-it.com/maplewood/data/realestate/GIRARD%20PLACE/19%20GIRARD%20PLACE.pdf : accessed 6 December 2019).  

[6] Vermont Department of Health, copy of certificate of death no. [?]3027, Rev. Charles P. Maier, 21 August 1964; digital image, “Vermont, Death Records, 1909-2008,” Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 6 December 2019), image 1159 of 2718; citing Vermont State Archives and Records Administration, Montpelier, User Box No.: PR-02116, Roll No.: S-31379, Archive No.: PR-1369-1370.

[7] Full disclosure – her son-in-law not so much.

Catherine Josephine Spencer at her First Holy Communion

Catherine Josephine Spencer - Engagement photo, 1921.

Week 48: Thief #52Ancestors

Beyond finding royalty, it’s every family historian’s dream to find that scoundrel ancestor who can add some excitement and interest to your family tree. I’ve yet to find any royals but my husband’s 3rd great-uncle, while not a thief, was a colorful character who had multiple run-ins with the law.

Dennis (Denny) Hagarty was born in Donoure, Rathbarry, Cork, Ireland in 1832 to Patrick and Mary Feen.[1] [Side note: a boon to researching Irish Catholics was the digital publication of Catholic Parish registers a few years ago. These records have allowed us to piece together some of Denny’s family-members including two possible brothers.]

Denny and his mother immigrated to the U.S. 1834, leaving behind Patrick and the brothers.[2] What happened to them has yet to be learned. Arriving in New York, they made their way to Massachusetts where Mary apparently married her second husband, John Fitzgibbon (I have yet to find a marriage record). When John and Mary moved the family to Illinois in about 1856, twenty-four Denny came with them.[3]

Denny settled in Marshall County, Illinois, married Margaret O’Brien, and had at least eight children.[4] The census records show that Denny was a farmer and “laborer.” But going beyond the census records reveals a more scandalous side to Denny. 

The first “legal” entanglement I found involving Denny was a suit he brought against an agent for Fisher & Sons in 1863 when they refused to pay for his over-time labor. Denny won in the lower courts and the case made its way to the Illinois Supreme Court where the judgment for $1.65 was affirmed.[5]

In 1873, George Bell sued Denny for the value of a steer he allegedly killed.[6] The poor steer was apparently hacked to death with an axe. The Henry Republican (Henry, Ill.) reported that the steer “annoyed” Denny by getting into his yard. However, because there was no eye-witness to the event, the jury found in Denny’s favor.[7] The newspaper account makes it pretty clear that at least the Henry Republican thought Denny was undoubtedly the perpetrator.  

Three years later, Denny and several other men were indicted for murder. According to the Henry Republican’s account, a shoot-out occurred at a house in Lacon, Illinois, involving a crowd of thirty to forty men. Three men were shot, two in the head, and one died.[8] The newspaper’s initial report identified Denny and the others and again the Henry Republican made clear its thoughts:

Surely it is a clear case of deliberate murder, and the Marshall county will have the spectacle of a wholesale handing scene, at no future day, we have no doubt if sheriff, judge and jury do their duty, and these parties get their just deserts.[9]

However, as before, Denny was found not guilty.[10] The Henry Republican was decidedly not happy about this, noting the poor prosecutor was out-numbered by seven defense attorneys. The paper was particularly upset that Denny got off, claiming that the evidence against him was “overwhelming.”[11] So outraged by the verdict, the paper called the jury grossly stupid and published their names so that the people of the county could “know where to find” them.[12]

One would think that with all his legal troubles, Denny would either move out of Lacon or at least maintain a low profile. Not our Denny. In 1880, only four years after the murder trial, Denny was granted a liquor license for a saloon, which the newspaper noted had been closed previously for not having said license.[13] In 1887, Denny got in trouble again for keeping his saloon open on a Sunday.[14]

Despite their previous unambiguous distain for Denny, when he joined the Republican party, the Henry Republican put the following notice in their paper:

Denny Haggerty, the saloonist, has formally renounced the evils of democracy, and now comes forth as a defender of the grand old party, with all its attending virtues and warts. We bring forward his name as a candidate for the legislature on that ticket two years hence. He would receive the support of the good Christian people of the party and the 20th district would thus keep up its reputation in this line.[15]

Quite the change of heart from a paper that only a few years earlier called for his hanging.

In addition to his saloon business, Denny purchased a “big omnibus” in 1887. The newspaper predicted that he would “pass everything on the road.”[16] I was super curious about what an 1887 “omibus” looked like and I found a picture of one from the 1890s in the Encyclopedia of Chicago website. I’ve attached for your viewing pleasure. Since these types of vehicles were used mostly in cities, it must have been pretty darn cool for little Lacon, Illinois to get one (although it was the county seat, it’s population in 1890 was only 1,649).[17]

When Denny died in December of 1889, the Henry Republican described him as “a notorious and prominent character.”[18] Not untrue.

[1] Ardfield and Rathberry parish, Diocese of Cork and Ross, Ireland, baptisms and marriages, 1800-1837, Denis Hagarty, 11 January 1832; digital image, “Ireland, Catholic Parish Registers, 1655-1915,” Ancestry (http://ancestry.com : accessed 1 December 2019); citing Catholic Parish Registers, National Library of Ireland.

[2] Manifest, Barque Wm Glen Anderson, 19 July 1834, third page, lines 147 and 148, Mary and Denis Haggarty; database with images, “New York Passenger Lists, 1820-1891,” FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org : accessed 1 December 2019), 023-21 May 1834-19 Jul 1834 > image 169 of 776; citing NARA microfilm pub. M237.

[3] 1860 U.S. census, Marshall Co., Ill., population schedule, Lacon, p. 72 (penned), dwelling 548, family 526, Dennis “Fitzgibbon” in household of John Fitzgibbon; NARA microfilm publication M653, roll 210.

[4] 1880 U.S. census, Marshall Co., Ill., population schedule, Lacon, e.d. 151, p. 18B (penned), dwelling 177, family 183, Dennis Haggerty; NARA microfilm publication T9, roll 235.

[5] Norman L. Freeman, Reports of Cases at Law and in Chancery Argued and Determined in the Supreme Court of Illinois, vol. 36 (Chicago: E.B. Myers & Chandler, 1867), 128-30; digital images, Google Play (http://play.google.com : accessed 24 March 2015).

[6] "Miscellaneous Items," The Henry (Illinois) Republican, 4 December 1873, p. 8, col. 1.

[7] Ibid.

[8] "Local Correspondence, Lacon," The Henry (Illinois) Republican, 24 August 1876, p. 5, col. 1.

[9] "A Tragedy at Lacon," The Henry (Illinois) Republican, 17 August 1876, p. 8, col. 3;

[10] "The Haggerty Case," The Henry (Illinois) Republican, 26 October 1876, p. 4, col. 2.

[11] Ibid.

[12] Ibid. "Local Correspondence, Lacon," The Henry (Illinois) Republican, 15 March 1877.

[13] T.E. Mizer, "Vicinity News, Lacon," The Henry (Illinois) Republican, 10 June 1800, p. 1, col. 4.

[14] “Court House Matters,” The Henry (Illinois) Republican, 27 January 1887, p. 4, col. 4.

[15] "Our Vicinity, Lacon," The Henry (Illinois) Republican, 27 January 1887, p. 6, col. 2.

[16] "Our Vicinity, Lacon," The Henry (Illinois) Republican, 30 June 1887, p. 1, col. 1.

[17] Wikipedia (http://www.wikipedia.org), “Horsebus,” rev. 16:57, 16 November 2019. Wikipedia (http://www.wikipedia.org), “Lacon, Illinois,” rev. 12:01, 30 August 2019.

[18] "Local Melange," The Henry (Illinois) Republican, 19 December 1889, p. 9, col. 3.

Horse-Drawn Omnibus, ca. 1890s; Chicago Historical Society, ICHi-37094; digital image, The Electronic Encyclopedia of Chicago, Chicago History Museum, The Newberry Library, and Northwestern University, (http://www.encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org/pages/3751.html : accessed 17 June 2017).

Week 47: Soldier #52Ancestors

Another mysterious ancestor is Elijah Elliott, my husband’s 4th great-grandfather who has a strange story about his death. He was a soldier in the War of 1812 and allegedly died at the Battle of the River Raisin in Monroe, Michigan. Even if you are not familiar with the facts regarding this battle, you may remember the battle cry “Remember the Raisin!”[1] During the Battle of the River Raisin, the combined forces of British, Canadian, and First Nations People attacked sleeping American soldiers killing 220 and capturing 147. The day after the battle, the Indians returned to plunder the American-controlled village and about forty-six more Americans were scalped, killed, or taken as property.[2]

Elijah Elliott was born about 1774 in Virginia. His parents were William Cundiff Elliott and Elizabeth Pearl.[3] Elizabeth’s sister, Margaret Pearl, was also my husband’s 5th great-grandmother on another side of the family. In 1790, Elijah married Elizabeth Feagans, the daughter of Edward and Elizabeth (Knox) Feagans.[4] They moved from Virginia to Kentucky sometime before 1800 and had five children.

On September 9, 1812, Elijah enlisted with Robert Smith’s Company, Colonel James Simrall’s Regiment, Kentucky Volunteer Light Dragoons.[5] “Light Dragoons” are soldiers who use horses for mobility, but dismounted to fight on foot.[6] Elijah likely provided his own horse for this service. 

In November of 1812, the Secretary of War, William Henry Harrison (and later 9th president of the U.S.), ordered the American forces, including the Kentucky Volunteer Light Dragoons, to attack the British-allied Delaware and Miami tribes along the Mississinew River in Indiana Territory (near modern-day Marion, Indiana). The fighting lasted for several days in mid-December 1812 and the “Battle of the Mississinewa” is thought by some to be the first American victory of the war.[7]  

Very few American soldiers were wounded or killed during the fighting, but many suffered from severe frostbite immediately after the battle. Simrall disbanded his regiment in January 1813, due in large part to the debilitating frostbite his men experienced.[8] Presumably, Elijah went home to his wife and children because in August of 1813 he re-enlisted in Bracken, Kentucky, with Captain John Payne’s Company of Kentucky Light Dragoons under Colonel Richard Johnson.[9] Payne had been a senior officer in Smith’s Company. In addition to Elijah, Jonathan Stout, a Farrier with Smith’s Company also re-enlisted with Payne.[10]

Under Payne’s command, Elijah was one of about 3,700 American troops who fought in the Battle of the Thames, also known as the Battle of Moraviantown.[11] The Battle of the Thames was one of the most decisive of the war. It took place on October 5, 1813 in Ontario, Canada, and during this battle, Native American Shawnee warrior and chief Tecumseh was killed.[12]

While the records of Elijah’s military service are sparse, they do confirm his participation in these two battles. However, family histories said that Elijah was supposedly killed during the Battle of the River Raisin, which took place on the 22nd of January 1813. 

Hmmmm. In January of 1813, Elijah was most certainly in Indiana and, of course, if he took part in the Battle of the Thames in October of 1813, he surely hadn’t died ten months earlier.

When I first started working on our family tree, every tree I encountered on Ancestry reported that Elijah died at the River Raisin. However, none of those trees had any supporting evidence.  

Ah, a challenge – how fun! 

I researched high and low for anything that would tell me when and where Elijah died and why everyone thought he died in Michigan. I found a story in the biography of his grandson, Jesse Elliott which reported a fantastical story of his grandfather and claimed that he was “tomahawked and killed by the Indians on the River Raisin.”[13] 

I also found a biography of his grandson Dr. Thomas Jefferson Dunn that claimed:

[Elijah] was wounded and made a prisoner at Fort DuQuesne, Pa. [near Pittsburgh] and carried to Canada. Becoming unable to travel, he was killed, scalped and left unburied by the side of the River Raisin. The account of his death was given by his fellow prisoners after their release and return to their homes. [14]

Nope and nope.

I haven’t been able to figure out when and where he died, but I do know these stories are false. I also know that he never returned to Kentucky after the end of the war – his wife was enumerated by her own name in the 1820 U.S. census.[15] Did he die in battle? I think this is unlikely because if he had his fellow soldiers wouldn’t have had to make up a story about him. At this point, all I have is speculation: he died in some rather inglorious way or he decided that life on the frontier was better than that back in Kentucky (which, of course, was the frontier). Someday I hope I will find out what happened to this soldier.

[1] “History & Culture,” River Raisin National Battlefield Park, National Park Service (https://www.nps.gov/rira/learn/historyculture/index.htm : accessed 25 November 2019).

[2] Ibid.

[3] William Elliott will, 9 February 1828, Bracken County Court, Kentucky, Will Book C, p. 185; accessed as "Kentucky Probate Records, 1727-1990," browsable images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1951-20817-25533-63?cc=1875188&wc=37RT-N3N:173387501,173767301 : accessed 13 July 2015), path: Bracken > Will records, Index, 1823-1833, Vol. C > image 104 of 276.

[4] Fauquier County, Virginia, Marriage Bonds, [Vol. not noted]: 45, Elliot-Feagans marriage, 1796; digital image, FamilySearch, "Marriage bonds and returns, v. 1-3, 1759-1820" (https://www.familysearch.org : accessed 25 July 2018), FHL microfilm 31,633.

[5] Adjutant General of Kentucky, Report of the Adjutant General of the State of Kentucky: Soldiers of the War of 1812 (Frankfort, Kentucky: E. Polk Johnson, Public Printer and Binder, 1891), p. 38; Archive.org (http://archive.org/dtails/reportofadjutant01kant : accessed 21 October 2014).

[6] “Dragoon,” Wikipedia, 22:35, 13 November 2019.

[7] John Trowbridge, “Kentuckians on the Mississinewa, War of 1812,” Kentucky Ancestor, Vol. 41-1 (Autumn 2005), p. 14-45; digital images, Kentucky Historical Society (http://history.ky.gov/pdf/Publications/ancestors_v41_n1.pdf : accessed 2 October 2013).

[8] Ibid.

[9] Adjutant General of Kentucky, Report of the Adjutant General of the State of Kentucky: Soldiers of the War of 1812 (Frankfort, Kentucky: E. Polk Johnson, Public Printer and Binder, 1891), p. 368; Archive.org (http://archive.org/dtails/reportofadjutant01kant : accessed 6 June 2017).

[10] Ibid.

[11] Col. Bennett H. Young, The Battle of the Thames in which Kentuckians Defeated the British, French, and Indians, October 5, 1813 (Louisville, KY:  John P. Morton & Co., 1903), 269.

[12] Ibid, 88.

[13] History of Fayette County Indiana (Chicago: Warner, Beers & Co., 1885), p. 267-268; digital images, Google Books (https://play.google.com/books/reader?id=5ULWAAAAMAAJ&printsec=frontcover&pg=GBS.PA271.w.1.2.0 : accessed 21 February 2019).

[14] Newton Bateman, LL.D., & Paul Selby, A.M, Illinois Historical: Effingham County Biographical (Chicago: Munsell Pub. Co., 1910), 747; digital images, Ancestry.com.

[15] 1820 U.S. census, Bracken County, Ky., Germantown, p.15, Elizabeth Eliot; NARA microfilm publication M33, roll 19.

The reenactment of the Battle of Mississinewa Battle of 1812 in Marion, Ind. is the largest War of 1812 reenactment in The United States. Photo by Taylor Irby (https://taylorirbyphotography.wordpress.com/category/photography/).

Week 46: Poor Man/Woman #52 Ancestors

Now you’re talking about my people. If I struggled with the last blog about “Rich” ancestors, this one will be a little easier. Ha!

Many of our Irish ancestors came to America as a result of the Great Famine (“An Gorta Mór” in Irish), emigrating between 1846 and 1851. They were the lucky ones. Even though passage on a ship to America could cost as little as $10, vast numbers of Irish couldn’t afford it.[1] They were the truly poor ones. Ireland’s population was eight million at the start of the famine years.[2] In the six years of the famine, over one million Irish died from starvation or disease.[3] I count my lucky stars that as poor as they were, my Irish ancestors were fortunate enough to be among the millions who emigrated to the U.S. between 1845 and 1855.[4]

However, the really bad thing about having a poor ancestor is the few records they leave behind.[5] There are always some records, but for one of my “brick walls” not nearly enough. Here’s what I don’t know about him: when and where he was born, who is parents were, and when and where he died. Yeah, that’s kind of a lot not to know. The guy I’m talking about is the family patriarch, David Baty, my husband’s 3rd great-grandfather. 

He appears out of “nowhere” in 1808 to marry Emily Pickerill in Mason County, Kentucky.[6] He is probably over twenty-one since signed his own marriage bond, but because Kentucky only began registering births in 1852, no state record exists to identify his parents. 

One of the reasons he may not have generated many records is that he doesn’t seem to have ever owned any land. There are no deed records for David in Kentucky or any of the other states where he lived. The one tax record I have found for him shows he owned no land (but four horses).[7] No deeds, no nothin’. And even though he served in the War of 1812, he apparently died before the U.S. awarded those veterans a pension.[8] David and Emily allegedly died in 1845 in Effingham County, Illinois, where some of their children settled.[9] However, no cemetery record, headstone, or probate record confirms this.[10]

So, there you have it. Glad he existed, but why did he have to be so poor?

[1] Edward Laxton, The Famine Ships: The Irish Exodus to America (New York: Henry Holt and Co., 1996), 1; digital images, Archive.org (http://www.archive.org : accessed 13 November 2019). 

[2] Ibid, 19.

[3] Christine Kinealy, Saving the Irish Poor: Charity and the Great Famine, Openedition.org, 2015 (http://www.OpenEdition.org : accessed 2019).

[4] James G. Ryan, Ph.D., Irish Records: Sources for Family and Local History (United States: Ancestry Inc., 1997), 42.

[5] Yes, I know, this sounds like it is all about me, but isn’t it?

[6] Mason County, Kentucky, Clerk of the Court, “Loose bonds 1806-1819,” David Beatty-Emlou Pickerrell, 9 May 1808; “Kentucky, County Marriages, 1797-1954,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QSQ-G9S7-9CRV?cc=1804888&wc=QD3Q-4X8%3A1300412311 : accessed 4 December 2017), FHL microfilm 5,552,766, image 81 of 569.

[7] Mason County, Kentucky, Tax Assessor, “Tax books 1810-1831, 1835-1835,” 1810, p. 18, David Baty; digital image, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3Q9M-CS3J-D79T-N?i=6&cat=156148 : accessed 1 August 2018), FHL microfilm 7,834,484, image 7 of 1553.

[8] The Adjunct General of Ohio, Roster of Ohio Soldiers in the War of 1812 (Columbus, OH: The Edward T. Miller Co., 1919), 93; digital image, Internet Archive (http://archive.org/details/rosterofohiosold01ohio : accessed 16 Feb 2016). Stuart L. Buter, “Genealogical Records of the War of 1812,” Genealogy Notes (Winter 1991, Vol. 23, No. 4); digital image, National Archives (https://www.archives.gov/publications/prologue/1991/winter/war-of-1812.html : accessed 18 November 2019).

[9] William N. Pickerill, The Genealogy of Samuel Pickerill, Soldier of the Revolutionary War (n.p. : W.N. Pickerill, 1905), 2. 1850 U.S. census, Effingham Co., Ill., p. 298 (stamped), dwell. 138, fam. 138, Mary E. Baty; NARA microfilm M432, roll 105. 1850 U.S. census, Effingham Co., Ill., p. 298 (stamped), dwell. 140, fam. 140, John L. Baty; NARA microfilm M432, roll 105. 1850 U.S. census, Effingham Co., Ill., p. 299 (stamped), dwell. 158, fam. 158, Levi Jacobs [husband of daughter Mary]; NARA microfilm M432, roll 105.

[10] FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/search/film/4595161 : accessed 18 November 2019) digital film 4595161 Effingham Co, Ill., Circuit Court, “Probate Index,” (1838-1964). No such records were found for Brown County, Ohio. FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3QS7-89MG-SNGZ?i=9&wc=S2HC-6TR%3A266274401%2C266301101&cc=1992421) Ohio, Probate Court, “Index to Wills, Volume 1 (1817-1974).” 

Week 45: Rich Man/Woman #52Ancestors

I am so very late with this blog-post. It was due last week and I hemmed and hawed over it without getting it posted. Mostly this was because we’ve no super wealthy ancestors, other than my husband’s 2nd great-aunt, Ellen (née Quinlan) Donnelly Reed who I already wrote about.[1]

Of course, “rich” is a relative term.[2] When researching family history, you are grateful to those ancestors who were “rich” enough to generate records. Deeds and wills are especially useful because they name wives, children, and sometimes even grandchildren. Many of my husband’s ancestors who immigrated in the 1700’s had enough property to leave wills which named their family. Yay for me. 

As for my side of the family, I’ve found few such documents, with the exception of my third great-grandfather who was apparently successful-enough and rich-enough to generate a probate file when he died. Another “yay” for me.

George Spencer was born about 1778 in Lancashire, England. Lancashire is in the north-west of England, just north of Manchester and Liverpool on the Irish Sea.[3] He was married twice and had four children by his first wife and five children by his second wife.[4] He second wife also had two children from her first marriage. The baptismal records for his children and his marriage records show that George was a “calico printer” in Ramsbottom.[5] Ramsbottom was a small town in the borough of Bury, Greater Manchester and historically was a manufacturing and mill town.[6] 

With all those mouths to feed, it is no wonder George ultimately launched into a new profession. The 1820 baptismal record for his son John identifies George as a “grocer” and the Manchester-area business directory shows for 1821-22 identifies him as a “four dealer and grocer” in Ramsbottom.[7]

According to Merriam-Webster, the history of the word “grocery” started by describing a dealer who sold by the “gross.”[8] By the 15th century, “grocer” referred to one who dealt in dry goods such as spices, tea, coffee, sugar, and flour.[9] Unlike today’s shopping experience, the English in the early 1800’s would need to visit the butcher, fishmonger, and grocer on a daily basis.  True to form, the 1821-22 directory lists only three businesses in Ramsbottom: George’s grocery, butcher Joseph Chapman, and a tavern/public house run by James Smith. 

It appears that George was part of the leading-edge of Ramsbottom’s growth. By 1824, the business directory lists not only George’s grocery but a tailor, shopkeeper, and blacksmith.[10]

Sadly, George passed away in 1825 at forty-seven years old.[11] While George didn’t leave a will, his wife filed with the court to administer his estate making sure that she inherited the grocery.[12] Jenny continued with the business and was listed in the 1828 business directory under “Shopkeepers and Dealers in Sundries,” along with seven other such shopkeepers in Ramsbottom.[13] Obviously, she knew a good business when she saw it. Jenny and George might not have been “rich” but to have been the first grocer in a growing town like Ramsbottom must have been quite the accomplishment.  

 

[1] Nell was a millionaire when few women could achieve such wealth on their own.

[2] Pun intended.

[3] Google, “Lancashire, England,” digital image (https://www.google.com : accessed 8 November 2019)

[4] St. Mary, Bury, Lancashire, England, marriages, 1802-1812, Spencer-Ridings, 2 March 1805; digital image, “Manchester, England, Marriages and Banns, 1754-1930,” Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 8 November 2019), citing Anglican Parish Registers, Manchester Library, Information and Archives, Manchester, England. St. Mary, Bury, Lancashire, England, marriages, 1802-1812, Spencer-Scholes, 23 September 1811; digital image, “Manchester, England, Marriages and Banns, 1754-1930,” Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 8 November 2019), citing Anglican Parish Registers, Manchester Library, Information and Archives, Manchester, England.

[5] Calico printing is “the process of imprinting on textile fabrics patterns of one or more colours on a white or coloured ground.” “Calico Printing,” 1902 Encyclopedia (https://www.1902encylopedia.com : accessed 8 November 2019). This website is a compilation of the Ninth and Tenth editions of the Encyclopaedia Britannica.

[6] Wikipedia (http://wikipedia.org), “Ramsbottom,” rev. 22:09, 24 October 2019.

[7] Bishop’s Transcript, Edenfield, Lancashire, England, births and baptisms, 1820-1829, 3rd page, John Spencer, 10 June 1820; digital image, “Lancashire, England, Church of England Births and Baptisms, 1813-1911,” Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 12 November 2019); citing Lancashire Anglican Parish Registers, Preston, England. R. & W. Dean and J. Pigot, compilers, “Bury and Neighbourhood,” Pigot & Deans’ New Directory of Manchester and Salford, etc. for 1821-2, (Manchester, England: 1822), 299; digital image, “UK, City and County Directories, 1766-1946,” database, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 12 November 2019).

[8] “Grocery’s Boozy History,” Merriam-Webster.com (https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/grocery-store-word-origin : accessed 8 November 2019).

[9] Ibid.

[10] R. & W. Dean and J. Pigot, compilers, “Bury,” Pigot & Deans’ New Directory of Manchester and Salford, etc. for 1824-5, (Manchester, England: 1825), 334-42; digital image, Bury Council (http://www.bury.gov.uk : accessed 10 November 2019).

[11] Bishop’s Transcript, Tottington, Lancashire, England, deaths and burials, 1820-1829, 35, George Spencer, 29 July 1825; digital image, “Lancashire, England, Church of England Deaths and Burials, 1813-1986,” Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 12 November 2019); citing Lancashire Anglican Parish Registers, Preston, England.

[12] Diocese of Chester, Lancashire, England, “Wills etc. Proved at Chester, 1825,” vol. R-S, unpaginated, Bond and Oath of Jenny Spencer, 2 August 1825; digital image, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:S3HY-6FFZ-JS6?i=353&cat=126866

: accessed 23 November 2018); original image from Lancashire County Council Archives, Preston, Lancashire.

[13] “Bury,” Pigot’s Directory for 1828, 235-49; digital image, “UK, City and County Directories, 1766-1946,” database, Ancestry (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 12 November 20190.

Emmanuel, Holcombe, Church of England. George and Jenny Spencer are buried here.

Week 44: Trick or Treat #52Ancestors

Of course, this week’s prompt is “Trick or Treat.” I have always loved Halloween. It was a big deal in the town I grew up in and back when our son was small, we went all out for Halloween - lots of displays, parties, and even a head-less guy sitting on our front porch. Since our son moved away, our Halloweens are low-key affairs – just candy for the kids.

For family historians, “Trick or Treat” can have many meanings. Mostly the “Trick” part relates to all those ancestors who have the same name. Many of my husband’s male Appleby ancestors were named John. To make matters worse they all lived in the same area, they were all “nailors,” and they all married a woman named “Mary.”[1] Good luck figuring out which one is which. On my side of the family, many of my male German ancestors were also named John (or rather, “Johann”). Thank goodness that the Germans had this “thing” where they would many times give a son a second name and this was the name they went by.[2]

As for genealogical “Treats,” these can happen all the time, whether due to stead-fast work on a designed research plan or plain-old serendipity. Since I do most of my research on-line, even if I have finished a research project I have to be mindful that new records are published on the internet every day. You never know when a little “treat” will surface.

I found a great “Treat” only last week. One of my many brick-walls was Reverend Richard T. Marlow, my husband’s 2nd great-grandfather. I had a lot of information on his life because he was a relatively prominent preacher (initially with the Cumberland Presbyterian Church). He co-founded the Iberia College in the Ozarks in 1890 and organized the First Congregational Church in Perry, Oklahoma Territory, in 1893.[3] I love his report in January of 1894 to the Home Missionary Society where he described life in Perry which was founded just after he arrived. He lived in a “rude tent” and was constantly buffeted by “wild” winds.[4] He reported that the large tent he had erected for services blew down one night and a thief stole the wall canvas.[5] He ended his missive this way: “May God help me to reach and try to save this wicked city.”[6]

Anyway, while I had a lot on his life, I had no idea who his parents were. His obituary didn’t mention them, no death certificate is available, and I had not been able to find him in the 1850 U.S. census – the first where all household members were enumerated by name (he was only twenty at that time, so I thought it would be reasonable that he was still living with his parents. Unfortunately, that was not the case).

Last week, I had a little bit of free time – not enough to devote to a full-blown project, but just enough time to undertake my continuing search for Reverend Marlow in some on-line newspaper sites. In order to do a thorough search for a person, it’s important to keep in mind the various ways they could have been identified in the news. I could have just searched for “Marlow” but that would have been over-kill and I didn’t have THAT much time. For the good Reverend, he was identified in all of these ways: Richard, Richard T., R.T, Reverend, and Rev. Using a “wildcard” in a search can help avoid multiple searches, but in this case, that was not a huge help.

Since I had searched for Richard previously (I already had twenty-eight newspaper stories on him), I felt sure that I had done thorough research. But because new papers are coming on-line all the time, it’s always worth going back and duplicating a search. This time, it paid off in a big way.

Scene: Cele in her office doing a little “happy dance.”

 Darned if I didn’t find a small obituary for Richard’s MOTHER! This little four-line obituary was published as a “Special Dispatch” from Colorado Springs, Colorado to the St. Louis Globe-Democrat.[7] Richard was named: “Rev. R.T. Marlow.” His mother had been living in Colorado Springs with her son, Dr. William D. Marlow and presumably the Globe-Democrat picked this up because Richard was living in Iberia, Missouri then. The obituary also mentioned another son, Captain Henry Clay Marlow of Paducah, Kentucky. GOLD MINE!

With that bit of information, I was able to find his father (Stephen), his mother’s maiden name (Aly Reynolds), and four other siblings (Aly had twelve children, so I have some more work to do).[8] I’ve also located a record documenting Stephen and Aly’s marriage, numerous census records, Civil War pension records (for Capt. Marlow), more obituaries, and on and on. 

A lovely Halloween Treat!

Of course, Stephen and Aly are my new brick-walls. Ha!

[1] A “nailor” in this area of England was a “metalworker who produced nails.” Duh. Family Research, “Dictionary of Old Occupations,” (https://www.familyresearcher.co.uk : accessed 31 October 2019), “nailor.”

[2] Family Search Research Wiki, Germany Names, Personal,” rev. 10:13, 11 June 2019. I’m pretty sure Germans didn’t call this a “thing.”

[3] “College at Iberia is Interesting,” The Sedalia (Missouri) Democrat, 8 September 1940, p. 14, col. 3-4. Rev. R. T. Marlow, “A Word from Perry, Oklahoma,” The Home Missionary for the Year Ending April 1894, Vol. LXVI (New York: Congregational Home Missionary Society, 1894), 465-66; digital images, Archive.org (https://archive.org : accessed 9 August 2013).

[4] Marlow, “A Word from Perry, Oklahoma,” 465.

[5] Ibid, 466. 

[6] Ibid.

[7] “Mrs. Alva Marlow,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, 8 August 1901, p. 4, col. 4.

[8] 1900 U.S. census, El Paso Co., Col., pop. sch., ED 28, p. 219 (stamped), p. 6 (penned), dwel. 103, fam. 115, for Ala Marlow in Wm. D. Marlow household; NARA microfilm pub. T623, roll 124.

Reverend Richard T. Marlow, his wife Rebecca Frances Suite (seated) and their seven children.

Photograph of the family of Rev. Richard T. Marlow, undated; digital image, MoGenWeb Project, MoBarry, Rootsweb.Ancestry.com (http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~mobarry/photos/Mystfly.htm : accessed 9 July 2017).

Week 43: Transportation #52Ancestors

I’ve talked a lot about “transportation” in this blog: from the many railroad-men in my husband’s side of the family to the ship Louis Philippe that took some of my German ancestors to America.

Most of the Glacy side the family stayed put when they arrived in the U.S., never venturing too far from New York City. On the other hand, all of my husband’s family made their way to Illinois, Ohio, Missouri, and the territories of Nebraska and Kansas by the mid-to-late 1800’s. But how, exactly, did they do that? It’s not like they had Uber or anything.

I mentioned last week the “pull” factor that the opening of the American West had for immigration. This was true not only for immigrants from overseas but also Americans who had originally settled in the colonies and the Mississippi Valley.[1] The book I’ve just footnoted, Westward Expansion, opened my eyes to how quickly and efficiently the Great Plains were settled. Steamship companies, land-grant railroads, and state “Bureaus of Immigration” all entered into massive advertising campaigns in the East Coast of the U.S. and in Europe.[2] The Burlington and Union Pacific railroads spent a combined $1 million on advertising.[3]

None of our ancestors left letters or diaries describing their travels, so I’ve had to presume that they came West via certain popular routs. As near as I can figure out, some of our ancestors who wound up in Illinois from Ireland, likely landed in New Orleans and traveled up the Mississippi by steamship. Our British ancestors landed in the East Coast (New York, Boston, and maybe Canada) and probably made their way to Nebraska via the railroad. Revolutionary War veterans like my husband’s 4th great-grandfather, Samuel Pickerill, moved West in the late 1700’s because he received 100-acres in present-day Kentucky as bounty land for his three-years of military service.[4] Samuel’s family continued their westward migration to Ohio, then to Illinois, then to Missouri and lastly to Kansas.

How would a family pack up and make the move west? What to bring? What to leave behind? An 1870 guide to emigrants and settlers to Kansas advised that it would be cheaper for new immigrants to sell their household furniture and farming equipment and buy new once they arrived, especially if they went by railroad.[5] “Good feather beds and bedding may profitably be brought along,” but farm animals were cheaper in Kansas than the cost to transport them.[6]

In about 1871, my husband’s 2nd great-grandfather, Richard McCormick, his wife Bridget, and six of their children migrated from Will County, Illinois (just south-west of Chicago) to Labette County, Kansas (on the Oklahoma border, west of the Missouri state line), a trip of about 590 miles.[7] Now-a-days, we’d hire a moving van, pack up our shizzle, and drive the nine hours. Not so for the McCormicks. First, if Richard and Bridget had taken the above advice for migrants, they would have sold their sixty-acres of land, farm implements and machinery (valued at thirty dollars), and livestock worth about $657 (nine cows, four horses, and four pigs).[8]

To get to Labette from Will, family would have likely taken the railroad from Joliet to East Saint Louis, a trip of 243 miles.[9]From there, they probably took the Missouri, Kansas & Texas Railway (the Katy) from St. Louis to Sedalia, Missouri and then from Sedalia to Parsons, the largest city in Labette County.[10] If you remember back to Week 35, this family included many of the railroad workers in our family who eventually went to work for the Katy Railroad in Parsons. 

I can’t image how long this entire took trip nor what struggles they encountered along the way. Could they have pre-booked their passage on the railroad? Did they travel the ten miles or so from their farm to Joliet by wagon, on foot, or a combination? When they got to East St. Louis, how did they get from that train station to the one in St. Louis proper? Was the trip to Parsons a “non-stop” or did they have to change trains in Sedalia? When they got to Parsons, who was there to help them? Where did they stay before they bought the farm they settled on?

Whatever the mode of transportation or the problems they may have faced, it all appears to have paid off: less than ten-years later, Richard and Bridget had 160-acre farm with $113 of farm equipment and machinery, and livestock worth $976, including fifty-eight cows, twelve pigs, and 100 chickens.[11] They were also growing Indian corn, oats, wheat, Irish potatoes, apples, and peaches. I’d say the trip was worth it.

[1] Ray Allen Billington & Martin Ridge, Westward Expansion: A History of the American Frontier, 6th ed. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2001), 358.

[2] Ibid., 358-359.

[3] Ibid., 360.

[4] Land-Office Military Warrant, No. 1369, 12 July 1783, Samuel Pickrel (sic); digital image, Kentucky Secretary of State, Revolutionary War Warrants, (http://landofficeimages.sos.ky.gov/landofficeimages/images/LG35/IMAGES/00000004/00000006/41e2bbc1.tif : accessed 4 Feb 2017).

[5] Kansas Publishing Company, Some General Practical Information in Regard to the “Great State of Kansas,” 2nd ed., (Lawrence, Kansas: The Kansas Pub. Co., 1870), 60; digital image, Kansas Memory (https://www.kansasmemory.org/item/212552 : accessed 22 October 2019). 

[6] Ibid., 61.

[7] “Direction from Channahon, Will County, Illinois to Walton, Labette County, Kansas,” Google (https://www.google.com/maps : accessed 22 October 2019).

[8] 1870 U.S. census, Will County, Illinois, agricultural schedule, Channahon, p. 5-6, Richard McCormick; citing NARA microfilm pub. T1133, roll 23.

[9] Henry Poor, Manual of the Railroads of the United States for 1873-74 (New York: J.J. Little & Co., 1873), 221; digital images, Google Books (http://books.Google.com : accessed 22 October 2019)

[10] Maps showing the Route and Land Grant of the Missouri, Kansas and Texas Railway, 1871; digital images, Kansas Memory (https://www.kansasmemory.org/item/213912 : accessed 22 October 2019). 

[11] 1880 U.S. census, Labette County, Kansas, agricultural schedule, Walton, p. 1, Richard McCormick; citing NARA microfilm pub. T1130, roll 22.

Kansas Pacific Railway Company, Emigrants’ Guide to the Kansas Pacific Railway Lands: Best and Cheapest Farming and Grazing Lands in America (Lawrence, Kansas : Kansas Pacific Railway Co., 1871) digital image, Kansas Memory (https://www.kansasmemory.org/item/1238/page/1 : accessed 22 October 2019).

“Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad Shops, Parsons, Kansas,” 1870-1890, photographer unknown; digital image, I (https://www.kansasmemory.org/item/210447/page/1 : accessed 22 October 2019).

Richard Dillon and Bridget (Conroy) McCormick, date unknown; digital image privately held.

Week 42: Adventure #52Ancestors

When I think about my immigrant ancestors I am struck by what it took for them to get to America. My side of our family emigrated to the U.S. in the mid-to late 1800’s. While their personal reasons likely varied, religious and political persecution, wars, famine, job shortages, rising taxes, and revolution were some of the many “push” factors that lead to this mass migration of individuals.[1] My ancestors (and maybe yours) were among the nine million immigrants who journeyed to the U.S. from Europe, Britain, and Ireland between 1820 and 1880.[2] Certainly an adventure if there ever was one.

My Glaeschen ancestors arrived in New York City on January 3, 1845.[3] I’ve mentioned before the difficulty I had finding them because they changed their name to Glacy (my maiden name) upon arrival.[4] The family (father, mother, three-year old daughter, nine-month old son, brother, and sister) started their journey to the “New World” from their home in Wernersberg, Bavaria to the port city of Le Havre, France. I haven’t yet figured out how they got to Le Havre, 396-mile trip.[5] Could they have walked the entire distance? What kind of transportation was available to them in 1844? These and many other questions are now on my “to-do” list.

Once they arrived in Le Havre, the family boarded the ship Louis Philippe and left for America. The trip took many weeks meaning the family would have spent all of a likely cold December on board. The ship’s manifest shows there were about 100 passengers in steerage. Complaints about overcrowding, poor food, abuse, and disease were common at this time.[6] To maximize profits, shipowners tried to cram as many people on board as they could.[7] Looking at just three manifests from the Louis Philippe, the passengers in steerage went from forty-eight in 1843 to 101 for my ancestors to a whopping 317 by 1846![8] My family was lucky not to have been aboard those later ships. As it is, I can’t even image how my 2nd great-grandmother Eva managed with an infant and small child under such harsh conditions. 

The Glaeschen family’s arrival in New York pre-dated the establishment of Ellis Island by many years. However, by 1850, New York City had become the preeminent port of entry into the U.S.[9] At that time, immigration was a matter for state control and the attitude of New York was one of welcome.[10] Restriction and exclusion were not concepts then and relatively free immigration was “in full flower.”[11]

I know the family first settled in New York as their third child, Catherine, was born eighteen months after their arrival. What an adventure they must have had and I know more awaited them as they made their lives in America.

P.S. I can’t help but share this little story of the Louis Philippe. Three years before transporting my family, the ship was grounded on Long Island on its way back from France.[12] In order to lighten the load and free the ship, the all the cargo, including trees, shrubs, and rosebushes were thrown overboard. Residents of East Hampton gathered the cargo and planted much of it throughout the town. To this day, the “Shipwreck Rose” continues to thrive in the town. It is described as a “very fragrant and winter hardy, once-blooming light pink rose.”[13]

[1] “Rise of Industrial America, 1876-1900,” The Library of Congress (http://www.loc.gov/teachers/classroommaterials/presentationsandactivities/presentations/timeline/riseind/ : accessed 17 October 2019).

[2] “Immigration Timeline,” The Statue of Liberty – Ellis Island Foundation, Inc. (https://www.libertyellisfoundation.org/immigration-timeline : accessed 16 October 2019).

[3] Manifest, S.S. Louis Philippe, 3 January 1845, 5th line, Joseph Glaeschen, age 36; database with images, “New York Passenger Lists, 1820-1891,” FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org : accessed 16 October 2019), 057 – 2 Jan 1845-31 Nat 1845, image 28 of 1091; citing NARA microfilm publication M237.

[4] And don’t ask me about whether their name was changed by the immigration officials.

[5] “Wernersberg to Le Havre,” Google (https://www.google.com/maps : accessed 16 October 2019).

[6] “Enterprise on the Water,” Smithsonian Institution (https://americanhistory.si.edu/onthewater/exhibition/2_3.html : accessed 16 October 2019).

[7] “Journey to America,” Spartacus Educational (https://spartacus-educational.com/USAEjourney.htm : accessed 17 October 2019). 

[8] Ship Louis Philippe, 2 January 1848, ship’s manifest transcription, Immigrant Ships Transcribers Guild (http://www.immigrantships.net : accessed 17 October 2019). Ship Louis Philippe, 10 December 1846, ship’s manifest transcription, Immigrant Ships Transcribers Guild (http://www.immigrantships.net: accessed 17 October 2019).

[9] Richard H. Leach, “The Impact of Immigration Upon New York, 1840-60,” New York History 31, no. 1 (January 1950): 15-30, specifically, 15; JSTOR (www.jstor.org/stable/23149747 : accessed 17 October 2019).

[10] Ibid, 16.

[11] Ibid.

[12] Wendy Polhemus-Annibell, “The Louis Philippe “Shipwreck Rose,” Long Island Pulse, 22 June 2015 (http://lipulse.com/2015/06/22/the-louis-philippe-shipwreck-rose/ : accessed 17 October 2019). 

[13] Ibid.

American Packet Ship “Louis Philippe,” 1837, a painting by Frederic Roux (French, 1805-1870); digital image, The Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (www.mfa.org)

Wendy Polhemus-Annibell, “The Louis Philippe “ Shipwreck Rose,” Long Island Pulse, 22 June 2015 (http://lipulse.com/2015/06/22/the-louis-philippe-shipwreck-rose/ : accessed 17 October 2019).

Week 41: Context #52Ancestors

According to Merriam-Webster, “context” means “the interrelated conditions in which something exists or occurs : environment, setting.” [1]  For genealogists, it means going beyond the what of names and dates to find out how our ancestors lived, worshipped, went to school, etc., and why they did the things they did. Most of the time, our ancestors didn’t leave behind detailed letters or diaries explaining their lives forcing us to dig deep into the place and time where they lived to see what others similarly-situated were doing. From there, we can put flesh on the bones of our ancestors and provide a reasonable interpretation of their lives.

This week’s prompt got me thinking about slavery: what was the context that made this acceptable?

My side of the family came in to the U.S. in the 1850’s or later and settled in the Northeast, but many of my husband’s ancestors came to the U.S. in the Colonial era and, since they settled in the South, many owned slaves. An embarrassing and shameful history. But today, I hear “Don’t blame them; it was the times they were living in that made it acceptable.” It was the “context.”

But was it really?

Since we fought a bloody civil war over it, it is clear that at least by 1861 LOTS of people thought slavery was wrong. Further, fifty-four years earlier, the U.S. passed the Act Prohibiting the Importation of Slaves.[2] And before then some states had already abolished the international slave trade (the Constitution protected the slave trade for twenty years from regulation by federal law).[3] There were even many notable abolitionists during the Colonial period, including Quakers and many former slave-holders.[4] Maybe in 2019 it’s easy for me to say, but I don’t agree that any “context” made it okay to own a slave. Context is important when researching your ancestors, but you can’t use it to whitewash the past or make yourself feel better.

I have the wills of many of my husband’s Southern ancestors and, as pious people, they always begin the will with words such as “In the name of God, Amen….” The wills then distribute their property, including people. My husband’s 6thgreat-grandfather, William Pearl, died in 1785 in Fauquier County, Virginia. His will addresses the distribution of three slave girls and their “increase,” i.e. their children. While it is so fun to reach back into the past to find ancestors, I want to always remember those three little girls: Nan, Sall, and Dorcas.[5]

[1] Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary (http://www.merriam-webster.com : accessed 10 October 2019), “context.”

[2] Wikipedia (http://www.wikipedia.org), “Act Prohibiting Importation of Slaves,” rev. 05:27, 18 September 2019.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Evan Andrews, “6 Early Abolitionists,” History, 7 February 2019; History.com (https://www.history.com/news/6-early-abolitionists : accessed 10 October 2019).

[5] John K. Gott, Abstracts of Fauquier County Virginia, Wills, Inventories and Accounts 1759-1800 (Baltimore : Clearfield, 1999), 162-63, image, Ancestry, “Abstracts of Fauquier County Virginia, Wills, Inventories and Accounts 1759-1800” (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 10 October 2019). 

Week 40: Harvest #52Ancestors

Many of our ancestors from Europe and elsewhere became farmers after arriving in America. The abundance of available land was one of the “pull” factors that drove immigration. From the early days of America, England enticed settlers with promises of land, which is not to say that England had the right to give away that land. Once the United States was formed, this process continued. With the Louisiana Purchase in 1803, the U.S. “bought” approximately 530,000,000 acres of land from the French.[1] Bought is in quotes as France only controlled a small fraction of the area and what America actually purchased was a “preemptive right” to obtain Native American land by treaty or conquest.[2] America’s legacy in this regard is not necessarily a good one. 

In 1854, Congress passed the Kansas-Nebraska Act which created the territories of Kansas and Nebraska.[3] I’ve written about some of the Kansas farmers in our family and this week’s prompt encouraged me to dig into a Nebraska farmer who was my husband’s 2nd great-grandfather. 

John Bryant, came to the United States from Buckinghamshire, England in about 1855 when he was 24.[4] He was born and raised in the village Padbury where he and his father were agricultural laborers.[5] Identifying as “laborers,” indicates that they were not the owners of the property where they worked. John settled in Douglas County, Nebraska, still a territory of the U.S.[6] Remarkably, only five years after arriving in the U.S., John owned a 276-acre farm valued at $1,000. He owned two horses, two milk cows, was growing “Indian corn,” hay, and “Irish potatoes,” and produced butter and honey.[7] How do I know all these details? Well, if you don’t yet know about agricultural schedules, you are in for a real treat.

In the 1800’s, census laws called for a number of additional “schedules” beyond basic personal information called “nonpopulation schedules.”[8] From 1850 to 1870, the federal government took “agricultural” censuses. Many states also took their own censuses at regular intervals between the federal census and some included agricultural schedules.[9]These records can provide you with a wealth of information, far beyond the names and ages of the people living in a particular household. Maybe you have come across an “ag” schedule but haven’t found the detailed information I am referring to. A mistake I made in the early days was to look only at that first census page where my farmer was listed with his family (the “population schedule”). What I didn’t do then and what I always do now is to check out ALL the pages of every document. The “nonpopulation schedules” are the last pages of these censuses and are typically not indexed. Holy cow! What a find!

With the four “ag” schedules I have for John, I can see how his farm flourished and grew. The 1885 ag schedule is the last one for John and shows that his farm consisted of 385 acres with a dollar value of $10,400.[10] John reported his previous year’s harvest: 1,128 bushels of oats, 270 bushels of rye, one hundred bushels of wheat, seventy-nine bushels of Irish potatoes, 2,800 bushels of Indian corn, and seventy-five bushels of apples. Further, he owned thirteen horses, fourteen milk cows, twenty-three calves, ninety-five pigs, and eighty-four chickens which produced 330 dozen eggs. He also sold 1,500 pounds of butter and $60 of wood and earned $125 from his “market garden.” These detailed descriptions help to paint a more complete picture what their farm life must have been. 

When he died in May of 1897, John was survived by his wife of thirty-four years, Catherine Ann (née Appleby) and five of his nine children. A 1912 map shows property in John and Catherine’s name, about 240 acres.[11]

[1] Wikipedia, “Louisiana Purchase,” rev. 03:17, 3 October 2019.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Wikipedia, “Kansas-Nebraska Act,” rev. 11:09, 26 September 2019.

[4] Albert Watkins, Ph.B., L.L.B, [Illustrated] History of Nebraska: From the Earliest Explorations to the Present Time with Portraits, Maps, and Tables, Volume III (Lincoln, NE: Western Pub. and Engraving Co., 1913), p. 574; digital image, GooglePlay (https://www.play.google.com : accessed 8 October 2014).

[5] 1851 census of England, Buckinhamshire, Padbury, fo. 287, household 18, William Briant.

[6] 1860 U.S. census, Douglas County, Nebraska Territory, agricultural schedule, p. 3, line 8, John Bryant.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Elizabeth Shown Mills, Evidence Explained, 3rd ed. (Baltimore: Genealogical Pub. Co., 2015), 284-85.

[9] Mills, Evidence Explained, 296.

[10] 1885 Nebraska state census, Douglas County, Schedule 2 “Productions of Agriculture,” Elkhorn precinct, p. 8, line 6, John Bryant; digital image, Ancestry, “Nebraska State Census Collection, 1860-1885,” (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 3 October 2019). 

[11] Atlas of Douglas, Sarpy and Washington Counties Nebraska and Mills and Pottawattamie Counties Iowa, compiled by the Anderson Publishing Co. (Omaha: The Bee Pub. Co., 1913), 10 for Township 16N, Range XE; digital image, Ancestry, “U.S., Indexed County Land Ownership Maps, 1860-1918” (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 3 October 2019).

The Appleby people living near the Bryants were all Catherine’s family, including brothers, sisters, and her father.

Atlas of Douglas, Sarpy and Washington Counties Nebraska and Mills and Pottawattamie Counties Iowa, compiled by the Anderson Publishing Co. (Omaha: The Bee Pub. Co., 1913), 10 for Township 16N, Range XE; digital image, Ancestry, “U.S., Indexed County Land Ownership Maps, 1860-1918” (http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 3 October 2019).

Week 39: Map it Out #52Ancestors

As anyone who reads this blog knows, I love maps. Because I have a terrible sense of direction, I really love regular old-fashioned street maps. These days, I rely heavily on Google Maps and the map feature in Apple’s Contacts, but they don’t help with my sense of direction. Sure, they help me get where I want to go, but I really don’t know where I am when I get there. LOL

When I am researching ancestors, I start by getting an atlas for the county where they lived. Back in Week 19, I talked about my husband’s 2nd great-grandparents, George Washington and Mary Elizabeth (Elliott) Baty and their farms in Neosho County, Kansas. The maps showing their properties was really helpful to see them in the context of a certain place at a certain time. One of the cool things about researching in Kansas is the wealth of land information available. 

A little history lesson: 

When Kansas was opened for non-native settlement in 1854, surveyors divided … [Kansas] into 25 ranges east and 43 ranges west of the 6th principal meridian ….  Laterally, Kansas was divided into 6-mile squares called townships, which are numbered from 1 to 35, going south from the Nebraska border. Each township is further divided into 36 sections that are one-mile square [640 acres]. …. This early range and township system is still used for the legal descriptions of rural property.[1]

What that means in simple language is that Kansas was divided into neat little one-mile squares. Deeds specifically refer to those ranges, townships, and sections and you can easily track a piece of property based upon those standard references.

When George and Mary first came to Neosho County in 1875, they acquired two parcels of land from Jacob and Ann Plyborn for $800.[2] The larger of the two lots was eighty acres in Canville Township. The deed described the property as follows:

·      The west half (W ½)

·      of the north-west quarter (NW ¼) of Section twenty-eight (28)

·      in Township twenty-eight (28), Range eighteen (18) south.[3]

I know that’s a lot to take in and it took me a while to get oriented to the descriptions. I’ve attached a plat map to help you see where this property is. 

 Once you figure out what all this means, it’s super easy to track the property, even when it is later sub-divided. Using the Deed Index Book at the Neosho County Office of the Register of Deeds, I could see who first owned the Northwest Quarter Section 28 and how it was divvied up going forward. I went to the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) website where one can access more than five million Federal land records issued between 1788 and the present. From my search at the General Land Office’s site (https://glorecords.blm.gov/default.aspx) I found an 1871 land patent where the U.S. government conveyed to John Hoctor the NW ¼ of Section 28 in Township 28, South of Range 18 East.[4] Going back Deed Index Book, I tracked the property from Hoctor to Perkins to Fitzpatrick to Plyborn to Baty. The Batys sold this land to Nathaniel Lindsay eight years later for $1,400.[5]

For me, this kind of investigation and research is pretty cool. Of course, you might say I need to get out more. 

[1] Kansas Historical Society, “Kansas Civil Townships and Independent Cities” (https://www.kshs.org/p/kansas-civil-townships-and-independent-cities/11308 : accessed 12 February 2017).

[2] 800$ in 2019 is $18,659. Inflation Calculator (http://www.in2013dollars.com)..

[3] Neosho County, Kansas, Deed Book J: 614, Jacob Plyborn and wife to G.W. Baty, 17 May 1875; Office of the Register of Deeds, Erie, Kansas.

[4] Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management (http://www.glorecords.blm.gov : accessed 1 October 2019), certificate no. 977, accession no. KS1550_.454, “State Volume Patents," John Hocter, 160 acres described as NW¼ S36 T28S R18E.

[5] Neosho County, Kansas, Deed Book 27: 407, George W. Baty and wife Mary E. Baty to Nathaniel W. Lindsey, 14 August 1883; Office of the Register of Deeds, Erie, Kansas.

If you look carefully at section 28, you will see an 80-acre parcel with the name of “A.S. Rosier.” Using the deed index book, I know this is the Baty property that was sold to Lindsey and then on to others until 1906 when this plat map was produced showing Rosier as the current owner.

Week 38: Cousins #52Ancestors

Growing up, I always marveled about the small size my extended family, especially in comparison to my Catholic friends. My parents each had only one sibling and my mother’s became a Catholic Priest. My grandfathers died before I was born and my dad’s sister had three children. I vaguely remember some second-cousins on my father’s side, but we were not close to them despite living relatively near-by. Compared to your “typical” Catholic family of the day, ours was minuscule.

One lovely aspect of researching your family’s tree is that you get to meet “cousins” from all over the world. In Week 28, I mentioned my third-cousin once-removed who came with his wife to our family reunion. I’ve also “met” (via email) other distant cousins in England, Long Island, Oregon, Chicago, and Texas.

From a shared love of genealogy, I am fortunate to have developed great friendships with two of my husband’s cousins: sisters, Kay and Ellen. I love working with them to solve family mysteries, but mainly I just love them.

These days, a good 75% or so of genealogy can be done on-line and the tools available are amazing. Cousin Kay was an early pioneer in the genealogy field. When Kay started, I think her only tools consisted of the phone book and lots of stamps and envelopes. A couple of years ago, she lent me her genealogy files so I could see what she had gathered those many years ago. OMG. There were four banker’s boxes jammed with letters and replies and Xerox copies made at court houses and churches. What a treasure trove!

Cousin Ellen is no-less impressive. Before she retired from teaching school, Ellen’s genealogy work was relegated to the weekends and the summer. Now that she’s retired, I get notices from Ancestry several times a week that she has made a new discovery or added a new ancestor to her family tree. Ellen also has keen insight into details and perseveres beyond where mere mortals would have thrown up their hands in defeat.

I’ve been fortunate to have attended several genealogy conferences with these two remarkable women, learning much and having great fun. Several years ago, I was preparing for a pie contest by making a couple of pies a week to see which would be the winner.[1] I invited Kay and Ellen over one day to be taste-testers. We dubbed the meeting “The Pie Summit” and have vowed to continue the tradition to eat pie and help each other with our respective “brick walls.” After all, who doesn’t love pie?

[1] No, my pie did not win.

Cousins Ellen and Kay with their parents and brothers.

Week 37: Mistake #52Ancestors

When I first started researching my family tree in earnest – about 10 years ago – boy, did I make some mistakes! As a newbie, I mistakenly relied upon the information in the trees I found on Ancestry.com. Holy smokes, you found my ancestor back in the 1400’s! So cool! 

Actually, no.

I am glad to say that I don’t make those bone-headed mistakes any more. No, my current mistakes are much more subtle and harder to correct. The biggest mistake I make now is not keeping a Research Log. No matter how many classes I take where the instructor speaks about the benefits of a Research Log, I still can’t get disciplined-enough to make this a regular practice. As a consequence, my research and my focus tend to wander. Needless to say, duplication of effort is a huge problem when you don’t use a log causing time to be wasted and much hair to be pulled out.

 A mistake I have grown out of is taking evidence at face value without corroborating its veracity with independent evidence. As an example, there is a picture of my husband’s 2nd great-grandparents where someone noted on the back that this picture was taken in Ireland. It shows John J. Quinlan and his wife Catherine Fitzgibbon who appear to be in their 60’s-70’s. My thought at the time: “okay, there’s a place to start my research” and this will help me pinpoint when they came to the U.S. Of course, that note turned out to be wrong. John came to the U.S. when he was about 22 and Catherine was born in Massachusetts and likely never went to Ireland. Sadly, I wasted a lot of time going down that rabbit-hole. 

I wrote about John and Catherine in Week 11: “Large Family” because they had thirteen (!) children. My research into Catherine’s family has run into a typical Irish genealogy road-block – I know her parents came from Ireland but I don’t know what town or county. John’s family is another matter and I have been fortunate to learn where he came from in Ireland and that information lead to his parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins. How that brick-wall was busted is a nice story of genealogical serendipity.

In 1931 , my husband’s grandmother, Kathryn Ann (McCormick) Baty, traveled to Europe with her aunt, Ellen “Nell” (Quinlan) Donnelly. While they were niece and aunt, Kathryn and Nell were only three-years apart in age, so grew up more like sisters.

Why were these two women traveling by themselves in Europe in 1931? Nell was married but had no children. Kate, on the other hand, had four children, the youngest of which was six. Europe was still recovering from World War I and Germany was beginning to fight against the reparations imposed by the Treaty of Versailles. Adolph Hitler, then a leader of the Nationalist opposition, was warning the world that it would not accept any further interference from France, England, or the U.S.[1]

Despite the possible unrest in Europe, it was essential for Nell to remove herself from the Kansas City area. If you remember back to Week 11, Nell was a prominent businesswoman in Kansas City. This trip was designed to cover-up her unplanned pregnancy.

Anyway, Kate and Nell went to Europe sometime in June or July and made their way to Ireland. They obviously knew precisely where to go because they got John Quinlan’s Birth Certificate from St Martin’s Catholic Church in Kilworth, County Cork. This single piece of paper was the key to finding John and his family in Ireland. I don’t remember how I got a copy of that certificate, probably from a Baty cousin who collected family papers many years ago. 

Researching your ancestors in Ireland can be difficult, but finding their Parish will open doors to a wealth of documents. Using this information, I found the Tithe Applotment Book for the Parish of Kilcrumper, Townland of Downing in 1828 showing John Quinlan’s father on 31 acres of land he was renting from Robert Norcott and others.[2] In 1837, Kilcrumper had 1,408 inhabitants and the land was reported to be of “good quality and chiefly under tillage.”[3] Sadly, by 1851 John’s father had died and the family was living in a house on a one-acre plot.[4] Shortly thereafter, John left for the U.S. What happened to his mother and sisters who likely stayed in Ireland is currently unknown.

This blog has taken us a long way from “mistake,” but I am not one to dwell on mistakes, other than to learn from them and always seek to move forward.

[1]“German Leaders Bitter,” Kansas City (Missouri) Star, 21 July 1931, p. 2, col. 4-5.

[2]Applottment for Rectorial Tithes of the Parish of Kilcrumper, Townland of Downing (1828), Daniel Quinlon; digital image, The National Archives of Ireland (www.titheapplotmentbooks.nationalarchives.ie).

[3]Samuel Lewis, A Topographical Dictionary of Ireland, 2nd ed., vol. 2, (London: S. Lewis and Co., 1837), 42; image, Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org)

[4]Primary Valuation of Tenemants, County Cork, Fermoy Barony and Union, Parish of Kilcrumper, Townland Downing South, p. 100; image, Ask About Ireland (http://www.askaboutireland.ie).

I love maps! This is part of a map of Kilcrumper showing Downing South. The plot I’ve circled shows the property upon which John Quinlan was living in about 1851.

Here is a present-day satellite map from Google where I have circled the area where the plot was. Some day, Bruce and I will have to visit! Image: Downing South, Kilcrumper Parish, County Cork; Map data c2019 Google (https://www.google.com/maps/: accessed 9 Sep 2019).

Week 36: School #52Ancestors

In today’s post is a picture from my mother’s vast collection of family pictures. While many of her photos don’t identify the people in them, we’ve been able to sort most of them out by comparing the faces with known ancestors. This one, no such luck.

I’ve always been fascinated by this photo and want to know who is in it and where was it taken. One of the stars in the genealogical world is Maureen A. Taylor, known as the “Photo Detective.” I’ve seen her speak a couple of times and have one of her books that helps you find genealogy clues in old photos.[1] While you can send Maureen a photo for her to analyze, I thought I would give it a stab here.

I know that since this was in my mother’s photos, it likely belonged to her mother or father. If I can pinpoint the date of the photo, I might be able to find out who is in the picture. I know that her mom and dad grew up in Newark, New Jersey, so that might be a helpful clue.

It is clearly a class photo from a school. On the brick wall on the left you can see marks from chalkboard erasers [as a kid, I used to love getting the assignment to clean the erases by banging them against a wall or each other]. I suspect the gentleman in the three-piece suit is the principal/headmaster. The children appear to be six to seven years-old, although I confess I am not a good guesser of ages. I also feel that children back-in-the day appear older than their biological age.

In looking for clues on photos, Maureen advises you identify the “costumes” the people are wearing and her book provides resources for costume-dating. Focusing on the two women and using Maureen’s advice, I noted the following features for the women and dates[2]:

Costume Feature - Years popular

• High collar to chin - 1901-1914

• Full sleeves from to cuff - 1901-1904

• Skirt smooth at hip front/sides - 1904-1907

• Wider waistbands - 1904-1907

• Hair soft around face - 1901-1907

Correlating these features and dates, it is my estimate this picture was taken from about 1904-1907.

 I guess that these schoolteachers might not be in a position to buy their clothes, but would have made them. The woman on the left intrigues me the most with her dark colored blouse, off-set front closure, large buttons, and the fancy belt buckle. I needed more than Maureen’s book to figure out what is going on with her so I went to Ancestry.com which has Sears Roebuck catalogs from 1896 to 1993. What a treasure-trove! Sears carried nearly everything you can think of: horse-drawn carriages to fur coats; parlor rugs to “appendicitis trusses”; and, cast-iron gas ranges to a “Kit Carson” saddle. The early catalogs are over 1,000 pages brimming with everything your heart could desire and more. 

Even though this teacher likely didn’t buy her clothes, the Sears, Roebuck catalog showed fashion trends and changes. I investigated 1900 to 1910 and noted that 1908 was the first time Sears showed a woman’s blouse with the front buttons off-set from center.[3] By the 1910 Sears catalog, you see several more versions of the off-set buttons.[4]

It will take much more investigation into this photograph before I can state for certain when it was taken, but I wanted to give you a taste of another genealogical tool used to find our ancestors. In the meantime, it will remain a mystery. 

[1]Maureen A. Taylor, Family Photo Detective (Family Tree Books: Cincinnati, 2013).

[2]Ibid., p. 112.

[3]Sears, Roebuck and Co., Fall 1908, #118L, p. 1211; image, Ancestry, “Historic Catalogs of Sears, Roebuck and Co., 1896-1993,” image 1159. Can you get a load of these prices?

[4]Sears, Roebuck and Co., Fall 1908, #121V, p. 148; image, Ancestry, “Historic Catalogs of Sears, Roebuck and Co., 1896-1993,” image 154.

Class from unknown Newark, NJ, school. 1904-1907.

Sears, Roebuck and Co., Fall 1908, #118L, p. 1211; image, Ancestry, “Historic Catalogs of Sears, Roebuck and Co., 1896-1993,” image 1159.

Sears, Roebuck and Co., Fall 1908, #121V, p. 148; image, Ancestry, “Historic Catalogs of Sears, Roebuck and Co., 1896-1993,” image 154.

Week 35: At Work #52Ancestors

“I’ve been working on the railroad, all the live-long day.”

We all know this beloved American folk song. I know of no other family where this song is more relevant than my husband’s. Every one of his grandparents had railroad people in their family.

His father’s side of the family settled in Labette County, Kansas, in the late 1800’s. Some of the first settlers started their lives in Kansas farming, but both great-grandfathers and a second great-grandfather on this side of the family eventually worked for the Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad in Parsons, Kansas (affectionately known as the “Katy” (K-T) because it was the Kansas-Texas division of the Missouri Pacific Railroad).[1]

It must have been exciting to see the town of Parsons grow as the Katy expanded its routes and services. The MKT founded the town in 1871 and built a small depot a year later.[2] In 1895, it erected a “state-of-the-art” depot.[3] The new depot serviced 30 passengers a day and Parsons thrived as this rail hub bought people and money to the community. Sadly, the depot burned to the ground in March of 1912. The local papers reported the building’s value at $300,000.[4] This calculates to a $9 million loss in today’s dollars.[5] Fortunately, less than two years later, the MKT rebuilt an even grander, three-story brick building that served the railroad for the next fifty-eight years.[6]

But back to those railroad men.[7]

Bruce’s great-grandfather, O.P. Baty worked a carpenter for the Katy, starting in about 1884. A relative remembered that O.P. took part in the Kansas “land-rush,” but didn’t get any property, so he went to work for the railroad. My husband’s other great-grandfather, Edward McCormick, started with the Katy about the same time as O.P., beginning as a brakeman and working his way up to conductor.[8] My husband’s second great-grandfather, John J. Quinlan, started with the Katy in Parsons in 1886 as a boilermaker.[9]

Not only were O.P., Ed, and John all working on the railroad, but most of their sons did as well. By my count, over a dozen of their sons and nephews worked for the Katy and other railroads. None of their jobs seem especially glamorous. In fact, they seem downright dangerous. O.P. lost the fingers on his left hand, John’s son lost his left eye and then died in a horrific train accident, a nephew, Rufus Baty, got his foot smashed by a steam shovel, and another nephew, Charles Baty, died when a train crushed him.[10]

Quite frankly, after all that death and destruction, it’s good to get to my mother-in-law’s side of the family where I haven’t yet found anybody who was killed or maimed in a railroad accident. On that side, the men primarily worked for the Frisco out of Monett, Missouri. I wrote about Monett and the Frisco last week when told about the tragic shooting of Fred Gibbons.

To refresh your memory, Frisco is the affectionate nick-name for the St. Louis-San Francisco Railway, a St. Louis-based railroad that operated from 1876 to 1980.[11] Monett was another railroad-founded town and owes its existence and growth to the Frisco. My husband’s great-grandfather, William Mills started with the Frisco in Arkansas in 1882 and all of his sons worked for the Frisco and other railroads.[12] I wrote about one of his sons in Week 31 who was assigned train engineer in France and Russia before and after World War I. While William didn’t die in a tragic train accident, he did suffer from a breakdown due to “continuous hard work” for the railroad and subsequently had to retire.[13]

Other Frisco workers on this side of the family include Fred Gibbons’ son and the man who married Fred’s widow.[14]

I’m not aware of any Baty relatives currently working for any railroad. Instead, the most recent generations have taken up “lawyering.” Off the top of my head, I count almost a dozen. Thankfully, it’s not quite as dangerous a profession. 

[1]Wikipedia, “Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad,” rev. 15:15, 26 August 2019.

[2]Parsons Kansas History, “1870’s Timeline,” (http://parsonskansashistory.com/1870s.html). The town was named Parsons for the MKT president, Judge Levi Parsons. American-Rails.com, “Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad, The Katy,” (https://www.american-rails.com/mkt.html).

[3]The Fort Scott Tribune, “100th anniversary of the burning of Katy Depot,” 8 May 2012, (https://www.fstribune.com/story/1846163.html).

[4]“A $300,000 Fire in Parsons,” The Hutchinson (Kansas) News, 19 March 1912, p. 6, col. 5. 

[5]Inflation Calculator (http://www.in2013 dollars.com).

[6]Kansas Historical Society, Kansas Memory, “Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad depot, Parsons, Kansas,” (https://www.kshs.org/index.php?url=km/items/view/446942). 

[7]Thanks for indulging my foray into Katy railroad history. If you are curious, Union Pacific acquired the Katy in 1988. American-Rails.com, “Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad, The Katy.”

[8]“On Katy Honor Roll After 42 Years of Service,” [unknown paper], 3 October 1926.

[9]“John Quinlan,” The Parsons (Kansas) Daily Sun, 27 August 1914, p. 6, col. 2-3.

[10]"Parsons Carpenter Crippled,"The Topeka (Kansas) Daily Herald, 12 July 1901, p. 3, col. 2. “News of Laharpe, John Quinlan Received Damage for Loss of an Eye,” The Iola (Kansas) Daily Index, 4 September 1908, p. 5, col. 3. “Jno. J. Quinlan [obituary],” Parsons (Kansas) Daily Sun, 28 January 1921. “Rufus Beatty Dead,” The Chanute (Kansas) Daily Tribune, 12 February 1918, p. 1, col. 6. Washington State Department of Health, Division of Vital Statistics, certificate of death no. 51 (1939), Charles H. Batey. 

[11]Frisco Archive, “About the Frisco Railroad,” (http://frisco.org/mainline/about-the-frisco-railroad/). The Frisco was acquired by Burlington Northern in 1980.

[12]“W.J. Mills, who died at Nevada Monday,” [unknown newspaper]. 1910 U.S. census, Barry Co., Mo., pop. sch., Monett Ward 1, p. 9B (penned), ED 4, dwell. 209, fam. 215, William J. Mills; NARA microfilm T624, roll 767.

[13]“W.J. Mills has returned home,” The Monett (Missouri) Times, 28 May 1920, p. 4, col. 4.

[14]1910 U.S. census, Barry Co., Mo., pop. sch., Monett Ward 1, p. 4A (penned), ED 4, dwell. 68, fam. 71, William J. Mein; NARA microfilm T624, roll 767.

Katy depot fire, 18 March 1912. Parsons Kansas History, “1870’s Timeline,” (http://parsonskansashistory.com/1870s.html).

“Monett, Missouri Depot,” Frisco Archive (http://frisco.org/mainline/?s=monett)

Week 34: Tragedy #52Ancestors

Okay, now we’re talking. After last week’s poor attempt at comedy, this is much more my speed.

 My mother-in-law told this family story about two brothers who married two sisters, but the brothers were killed by an Indian attack in Nebraska.

As most family stories go some kernels of truth exist.

Yes, two brothers did marry two sisters:  Fred Gibbons married Catherine Bryant in Douglas County, Nebraska on 2 September 1888; and, William Gibbons married Fanny Bryant in Douglas County on 10 December 1886.[1] However, neither Fred nor William lost their lives in an Indian attack. 

Sadly, Fred’s story does end in a different kind of tragedy.

Fred and Catherine, my husband’s great-grandparents, were born in the United States to English-immigrant parents. Fred’s father, Joseph, was a blacksmith and after working for a time as a farm laborer, Fred also became a blacksmith.[2] Another family story tells of Fred and his young family making their way to Arkansas in the late 1890 where he intended to set up a smithy. On the way, they stopped in Monett, Missouri and some townsfolk convinced him that they desperately needed a blacksmith and that he should set up shop there. Again, another family story with a little truth: Fred did settle in Monett and was a blacksmith there.[3] However, the 1900 census shows at least ten other blacksmiths in Monett, including one woman. 

Previously a teeny-tiny town called Plymouth Junction, Monett began to grow when the St. Louis-San Francisco Railway (the Frisco) decided to vastly expand its rail facilities. The Frisco owned most of the original town and beginning in 1887 built a new freight terminal, passenger station with dining hall, a brick roundhouse, coaling facilities, stockyards, and miles of sidings.[4] Maybe a town growing like this did need another blacksmith after all.

Fred must have prospered, because in July of 1903 he purchased half a share of a hardware store in Monett.[5] I’ve attached a great picture of Fred inside the store. The shelves and counters are chock-full of merchandise. You can see a variety of pots and pans, baskets, ceramic cups and bowls, lamps, tools, and even three potbelly stoves. This picture is especially fun because you can see the legs of the photographer and his tripod. Since this was taken by a professional photographer, I imagine it was taken in celebration of this new venture. However, Fred’s success was short-lived.

On the evening of October 15, 1903, less than three months after he bought into the store, Fred was accidentally shot and killed. That night, a customer named Frank Smith purchased some cartridges for his revolver and while loading the gun, it discharged. The bullet struck the counter, ricocheted, and hit Fred just below his right groin.[6] He died four hours later. 

Described by the newspaper as a “prominent” merchant, Fred died at forty-three. He left his wife and three children, including my husband’s eleven-year-old grandmother. He was buried back in Douglas County, Nebraska, where he and his wife met and married.[7]

Only thirty-three when her husband died, Catherine Gibbons married William J. Mein in 1908.[8] They did not have children together, but Catherine took on the name “Grandma Mein” in her later years. I’m not sure how successful their marriage was because at least by 1930 and until his death in 1944, William was living in and working at the county hospital in Los Angeles.[9] Meanwhile, Catherine remained in Monett and identified as a widow.[10] Catherine died in 1948.[11]

[1]Douglas Co., Nebraska, Marriage Records, Volume 12, p. 440, Gibbons-Bryant marriage license, 2 September 1888; image, Ancestry, “Nebraska, Marriage Records, 1855-1908,” (https://www.ancestry.com: accessed 22 August 2019). Douglas Co., Nebraska, Marriage Records, Volume 11, p. 207, Gibbons-Bryant marriage license, 15 December 1886; image, Ancestry, “Nebraska, Marriage Records, 1855-1908,” (https://www.ancestry.com: accessed 22 August 2019).

[2]1870 U.S. census, Herkimer Co., N.Y., pop. sch., Russia, p. 28 (penned), dwell. 317, fam. 332, Joseph Gibbons; NARA microfilm T9, roll 838.

[3]1900 U.S. census, Barry Co., Mo., pop. sch. Monett Twp., E.D. 11, p. 5B (penned), dwell. 100, fam. 103, Fred Gibbons; NARA microfilm T623.

[4]“Phenomenal Monett: A Little Town That Will Beat All Previous Records,” St. Louis (Missouri) Post-Dispatch, 20 September 1887, p. 3, col. 5. 

[5]“Fred Gibbons at Monett,” Cassville (Missouri) Republican, 30 July 1903, p. 5, col. 2.

[6]"Death Due to an Accident," The St. Louis (Missouri) Republic, 17 October 1903, p. 8, col. 3.

[7]Find A Grave (https://www.findagrave.com: accessed 22 August 2019), memorial 154443045, digital image, 30 October 2015, by Brad Miller, of Fred J. Gibbons gravestone (Elk City Cem., Elk City, N.Y.).

[8]“Missouri Marriage Records, 1805-2002,” Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com: accessed 22 August 2019), Mein-Gibbons marriage license (22 September 1908); from “Missouri Marriage Records,” Missouri State Archives, Jefferson City.

[9]1930 U.S. census, Los Angeles Co., Calif., pop. sch., Los Angeles, p, 8A (penned), E.D. 19-706, W. J. Main; NARA microfilm T626, roll 163. 1940 U.S. census, Los Angeles Co., Calif., pop. sch., Los Angeles, p, 5A (penned), E.D. 66-663, William J. Mein; NARA microfilm T627, roll 384. In both 1930 and 1940, William was identified as married.

[10]1930 U.S. census, Barry Co., Mo., pop. sch., Monett, p. 1B (penned), E.D. 70-33, dwell. 22, fam. 24, Katherine Mein in household of George F. Rice; NARA microfilm T626, roll not identified. 1940 U.S. census, Barry Co., Mo., pop. sch., Monett, p. 2B (penned), E.D. 5-21, dwell. 46, Katherine Mein in household of George F. Rice; NARA microfilm T627, roll 2083. Ancestry, “California, Death Index, 1940-1997,” listing William John Mein, death date 10 January 1944 (https://www.ancestry.com: accessed 22 August 2019).  

[11]Catherine Ann Mein death certificate, file no. 22081, Missouri State Board of Health, Jefferson City; image, Missouri Secretary of State, Missouri Death Certificates, 1910-1968 (https://www.sos.mo.gov/images/archives/deathcerts/1948/1948_00022081.PDF: accessed 22 August 2019).

Fred Gibbons, 1903

Catherine Ann Bryant Gibbons Mein (1869-1948)

Week 33: Comedy #52Ancestors

This week’s prompt has me completely stumped. 

Comedy? 

These days I have to continually remind myself how much better we have it now than our ancestors did.

Sometimes, genealogy is worth a giggle or two. Like the time when I helped a friend research her Scottish ancestor and the poor guy (or someone with a similar name) kept getting fined for letting his pigs escape from their pen. It might not have been funny for him, but we laughed until our sides ached.

Most of the time, I usually just smh.*[1] I know that I’ve complained before about the obvious errors that find their way into people’s trees, usually due to the “name’s-the-same” syndrome (“What do you mean the John Smith who fought in the Revolution isn’t the John Smith who fought in the Spanish-American War?”).

One thing causes me to chuckle these days are people who clutch their pearls about how society is going to “hell in a handbasket,” but they don’t know that their great-grandmother was born four months after her parents wedding (or maybe they are like me where my great-grandparents married when my grandmother was nine). If you think morals today are declining, I can guarantee you don’t know your family’s history.

Speaking of hypocrisy, I am a Twitter-follower of Jennifer Mendelsohn, the creator of “Resistance Genealogy.”[2] Jennifer is a journalist who spent many years researching her own family until the recent wave of anti-immigrant sentiment.[3] In between caring for her family and working for a living, Jennifer exposes the family immigration history for some of our country’s loudest racists.  What I love about Jennifer is her passion for the truth: as she says “In genealogy, we always have the receipts.”[4] While she’s also funny, if you ask her about why the people at Ellis Island changed your ancestor’s name, she might (figuratively) slap you up-side your head.[5]

One guy a lot of us in Kansas really “dislike” is Kris Kobach.[6] He got infamous by spending most of his time as Secretary of State running around the country pitching his anti-immigration consulting services. Back home in Kansas, Kobach’s claim to fame was helping Kansas institute super-restrictive voting regulations. The court struck down this law as unconstitutional and held Kobach in contempt of court for violating some basic courtroom rules.[7]Naturally, the Kobach family tree is exclusively made up of immigrants, including his German-immigrant great-grandfather who was arrested for burglary and shop-lifting at least three times.[8]

I know this blog was supposed to be about “comedy,” but these days, I can’t find much to laugh at.

Missing the great Maya Angelou who said: “We need to haunt the house of history and listen anew to the ancestors’ wisdom.”  

[1]Shaking my head.

[2]Follow Jennifer on Twitter @CleverTitleTK. I also follow @megansmolenyak 

[3]Monic Hesse, “She saw anti-immigration politicians as hypocrites. So she launched ‘resistance genealogy,’” The Washington Post, 13 March 2018 (https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/she-saw-anti-immigration-politicians-as-hypocrites-so-she-launched-resistance-genealogy/2018/03/12/1926b528-1d77-11e8-b2d9-08e748f892c0_story.html).

[4]Resistance Genealogy website (http://resistancegenealogy.com).

[5]But of course, you would never ask such a silly question, as that NEVER HAPPENED.

[6]“Dislike” is as explicit as I can be on this family-friendly blog.

[7]Opinion, “Kris Kobach is the G.O.P. at Its Worst,” The New York Times, 8 August 2018 (https://www.nytimes.com/2018/08/08/opinion/editorials/kris-kobach-kansas-gop-primary.html)

[8]rickebg, “Kris Kobach: Anti-Immigrant Crusader,” #Resistance Genealogy, 21 March 2018 (https://resistancegenealogy.wordpress.com).

No genealogy-related picture this week, but a funny one of the cat our son adopted. #ClearTheShelters

Week 32: Sister #52Ancestors

It’s kind of an odd thing, but I’m used to it by now: I get a lot of comments on my name. Many times, people will want to sing to me the classic Simon and Garfunkel. When I was a kid, it was even weirder because the older folks would sing “Does Your Mother Know You’re Out Cecilia,” a cute little ditty from 1926 and recorded by, among others, Bing Crosby.[1] Despite these somewhat embarrassing encounters, I have always liked my name and, as you may suspect, there is a family story about it. 

My dad’s favorite aunt, Frances Cecelia McDonough, was born right after Christmas in 1885, the third of Michael and Lizzie (Getter) McDonough’s six children. The McDonough family lived in Hilton, New Jersey which was later known as Maplewood—the town I grew up in. Cele never married and died in 1936 at almost fifty-one years old.[2]

Aunt Cele was a “working woman” her whole life; a stenographer from at least the age of twenty until her death.[3] In 1930, the census identified her as the head of the household, which included her mother and an uncle, living in the home the family built in 1907.[4] At that time, Cele worked as a stenographer for a brewery, although her previous employers had been insurance companies.[5] Her mother was unemployed and her uncle worked as a “slitter” for a box factory. It’s likely this was the same box factory that had employed Aunt Cele’s brother-in-law, Anthony Glacy (my grandfather). My grandfather and his father were in the box making business for many years and many family members worked with or for them.

I don’t know why Aunt Cele never married. In sorting through the records I have, which are admittedly incomplete, it appears that Cele might have been the last one left at home to care for her mother. My grandfather disappeared from the family sometime in the twenties and the rest of the children married before 1925. 

In the early Twentieth century, stenographer was one of the top ten occupations for working women.[6] Today, stenographers work mostly in the court system, but back when Cele was a young woman, many companies employed women for that job. Since Cele had been a stenographer since 1905, I wondered how she obtained that training. There were several “business” colleges in the surrounding area, including the Coleman Business College in Newark, owned by Irish immigrant, Henry Coleman and his wife Emma.[7] In 1880, there were about 130 business colleges in the U.S. and women comprised 10-30% of the 23,000 students.[8] A course of study at Coleman in the late 1890’s-early 1900’s was three months long and cost about $20.[9]

My great-grandmother passed away in 1933, leaving forty-seven-year-old Cele living alone in the family home.[10] She died three years later from as-yet unknown causes. Cele must have been quite the doting and loving aunt. My dad remembered her so fondly and although he was only eleven when she died, he named his first daughter after her. Like all those who have passed too soon, I would have liked to have known her.

[1]Wikipedia (http://www.wikipedia.org), “Cecilia (Dreyer and Ruby song),” rev. 00:24, 3 March 2018.  There’s a newer song called “Cecilia and the Satellite,” by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness. It’s really great!

[2]1900 U.S. census, Essex Co., New Jersey, South Orang Twp., pop. sch., ED 1, p. 8A (penned), dwell. 151, fam. 152, Michael McDonough; NARA microfilm T623, roll not noted. Find A Grave (https://findagrave.com: accessed 8 August 2019), memorial 69975853, digital image, 17 May 2011, by Cecelia 728, of Frances Cecelia McDonough gravestone (Hollywood Mem. Park, Union, N.J.).

[3]1905 New Jersey state census, Essex Co., pop. sch., South Orang Twp., p. 4A (penned), dwell. 66, fam. 73, Elizabeth S. McDonough; N.J. State Archive, Reference No. L-10, film 16.

[4]1930 U.S. census, Essex Co., New Jersey, pop. sch., Maplewood Twp., E.D. 7-503, p. 4B (penned), dwell. 67, fam. 87, Francis C. McDonough; NARA microfilm T624, roll 884. Zillow.com, “33 Burnett Ave, Maplewood, NJ 07040” (http://www.zillow.com : accessed 8 August 2019) [current market estimate from Zillow is $431,950].

[5]1910 U.S. census, Essex Co., New Jersey, South Orang Twp., pop. sch., ED 218, p. 29A (penned), dwell. 571, fam. 613, Michael McDonough; NARA microfilm T623, roll not noted.

[6]Sharon S. Atkins, “Women’s Occupations in the Early Twentieth Century,” The Social Historian (https://www.thesocialhistorian.com/womens-occupations/ : accessed 7 August 2019).

[7]Women’s Project of New Jersey, “Historical Overview: 1866-1920,” Past and Promise: Lives of New Jersey Women (Metuchen, New Jersey: Scarecrow Press, 1990), 98, 115. 

[8]Ibid., 115.

[9]Ibid., 116.

[10]New Jersey, Department of Health, Bureau of Vital Statistics, death certificate [no #] (1933), Sarah Elizabeth McDonough; N.J. Dept. of Health, Vital Statistics and Registry, Trenton, N.J.

Frances Cecelia McDonough (1895-1936)

Week 31: Brother #52Ancestors

My husband’s grandfather had two brothers and one sister and this story about his brother Frank has intrigued me for some time. Here is a shortened version.

Like his father and his brothers, Frank worked for The St. Louis-San Francisco Railroad (also known as the FRISCO) and when drafted for World War I, the army designated him a train engineer. Assigned to Company A, Standard Railway and Bridge Construction Regiment, 52ndEngineer Combat Battalion, Frank arrived in France in June of 1918.[1]  We have some of the letters he wrote home during his deployment and while I think he liked the actual job he did (it appears he saw no battles), he constantly complained of being lonely and that nobody from home ever wrote. 

 Despite his professed loneliness, when peace came, Frank volunteered for the North Russian Expedition, a strange and little-known venture involving U.S. troops fighting alongside the Imperial Russian army. Called in by the British in September of 1918, American forces were used to prevent a German advance on the Eastern Front. However, once the war against Germany ended, the U.S. forces wound up fighting against the Bolsheviks. Calling themselves “Polar Bears,” the American troops used a polar bear on their regimental crests.[2]

Newly promoted to Sergeant, 1stClass, Frank joined the 167thCompany of the North Russian Transportation Corps in April of 1919.[3] He and his men were assigned to maintain and operate the Murmansk railroad in far northwest Russia.[4] For those of us who are geographically-challenged, Murmansk is close to Finland and northwest Norway, about 15 miles from the Artic Ocean. 

As you can imagine, with the war against Germany over, many of these men started to question why they were still fighting. Morale among the troops was low even before Frank and his men arrived.[5] However, the pictures I’ve seen show the men trying to make the best of it. Indeed, four of the “Polar Bears” who came with the expedition as interpreters wound up marring local women.[6]

Frank arrived home to Monett, Missouri on August 28, 1919 and ten days later, he and his long-time girl, Antoinette Marie Dwyer, were married.[7] They had their first child on March 27, 1920 and it doesn’t take a mathematician to recognize this less-than-pristine birth date. While they went on to have more children, Frank continued to question his first son’s parentage. The marriage appears to have suffered greatly from mistrust and suspicion. Frank died on August 2, 1925 in Fresno, California, under the alias of A.T. Carter.[8] He left his wife and three children ages five and under. No pictures of Frank as an adult can be found but John E. Wilson, who wrote The Artic Antics of the North Russia Transportation Corps, took many photos which were digitized by The Bentley Historical Library at the University of Michigan and I’ve attached a few for your enjoyment.

[1]“W.J. Mills received a message,” The Monett (Missouri) Weekly Times, 28 June 1918, p. 4, col. 3.

[2]The Bentley Historical Library at the University of Michigan has the largest collection of manuscript and printed materials on the Polar Bear Expedition. See: https://bentley.umich.edu.

[3]“Polar Bear Expedition History,” Bentley Historical Library (https://bentley.umich.edu/research/catalogs-databases/polar-bear/polar-bear-expedition-history/: accessed 1 August 2019).

[4]Ibid.

[5]Ibid.

[6]John E. Wilson, “How We Came to Be,” The Artic Antics of the North Russia Transportation Corps Expedition of the U.S. Army (Salina, Kansas: Padgett’s Printing House, 1919; reprint, Lexington, Kentucky: The Bentley Historical Library, 2015), 7th page.

[7]“Dwyer-Mills,” The Monett (Missouri) Times, 12 September 1920, p. 4, co. 4.

[8]California, Department of Public Health, standard certificate of death no. 25-036396 (1925), Wm. Mills alias A.T. Carter; California Department of Public Health, Sacramento, California.

Taken by John E. Wilson

Provided by John E. Wilson

Week 30: Easy #52Ancestors

After what I wrote last week, can I really talk about genealogy being “easy”? Well, “yes” and let me explain.

My husband and I went to our neighborhood pool yesterday for the first time in ages. We had two friends join us and they and my husband jumped into the deep end of the pool to cool off (105° heat index at 5 PM). Meanwhile, I was babysitting our adorable 2-year-old neighbor and we headed off to the kiddie pool to cool off. 

See where I am going with this?

If you are thinking about jumping into the genealogy waters and maybe all my talk about the GPS last week put you off. Don’t worry: just think about starting out in the kiddie pool. Michael Phelps didn’t become an Olympic champion the first time he jumped into a pool. And, lucky for you, there is plenty of help out there to get you started and guide you on your way.

So, let’s see – where should you start? 

The advice a newbie will always get is “start with what you know.” That is, start with yourself. Then your parents. Then your grandparents. Etc. I know it’s tempting to jump to that legendary Revolutionary War hero or your ancestor who came from Ireland during the famine, but trust me, unless you start with yourself, you won’t be able to get back to those ancestors with any confidence in your research. And never fear, if they are really in your tree, they’re not going anywhere.

Here are a few links to get you started:

·     FamilySearch.org: https://www.familysearch.org/home/etb_gettingstarted

·     National Genealogical Society: https://www.ngsgenealogy.org/getting-started/

·     The Midwest Genealogy Center: https://www.mymcpl.org/genealogy/get-started

If you are ready to dive into some actual records, the most recently published U.S. Census is from 1940 and most of you should be able to find at least your grandparents there. In the 1940 census, you will find the name of every person in the household as of April 1, 1940. You will find their sex, race, age at last birthday, marital status, place of birth, and so on.[1] You will also find a lot of employment information on anyone 14 years or older and their income in 1939. If you are really lucky, your grandparents will be part of the 5% of the population that also answered about 15 supplemental questions asking about the birthplace of their parents, language spoken at home, veteran status, etc.[2] My mother was one of those who were asked those extra questions, but as a 17-year-old school girl, she had little to add to the family story.

Once you find your grandparents in 1940, you can go back in time through the censuses in ten-year increments to find them and their parents. Some states even had their own census. If your family is from New Jersey (like mine), you should be able to find your ancestors every five years beginning in 1850 until 1910 (except for 1890, where most of the U.S. census records were destroyed in a fire).[3]

Of course, if you want your family tree without all the work, you can always hire me.

[1]“Questions Asked on the 1940 Census,” The National Archives (https://1940census.archives.gov/questions-asked.asp: accessed 20 July 2019).

[2]Ibid.

[3]New Jersey conducted a census in 1885, 1865, 1875, 1885, 1895, 1905, and 1915. Ann S. Lambert, “New Jersey,” State Census Records (Baltimore: Genealogical Publishing Co., Inc., 1992), 80-81. “Availability of the 1890 Census,” The United States Census Bureau (https://www.census.gov/history/www/genealogy/decennial_census_records/availability_of_1890_census.html: accessed 20 July 2019).

This is the 1940 U.S. census for my mother and her parents and brother. Her dad was the manager of a tavern. She and her brother were in school. 1940 U.S. census, Essex County, New York, population schedule, Newark, Ward 9, p. 62A (penned), enumeration district 25-211, line 12-15, Charles Maier; NARA microfilm publication T627, roll 2418.

My absolutely adorable neighbor.