Concerning Iowa Roans

It’s exciting to discover your ancestors or relatives mentioned in a publication, be it a newspaper, school yearbook, or a local history book. Ten years ago, I found an except from the original edition of Concerning Mary Ann, which describes the lives and times of the Irish Catholic immigrants who settled Monroe County, Iowa in the mid 1800s. I wrote about it in the vintage post, “Of Cofflins and Rohans.”

Recently, I purchased a new edition of Leo R. Ward’s Concerning Mary Ann, with added material and wonderful photos.1 The focus of the book is the eponymous Mary Ann Coughlin (1860-1957) who married a Murray. As it happens, my Roane / Roan / Rohan relatives are bit players and hazily remembered, at best.

With the book in hand, I searched the names in the narrative at genealogy websites, which generated documents not available ten years ago. While the glaring errors of the Larry Coughlin-and-twin-Roane-brothers story are clearly exposed by a variety of records, what really surprised me is that Leo Ward was accurate in details for other families that include Murray, Fox, Burns, Fitzpatrick, Flaherty and Coughlin. Therefore, if you are a descendant of these folks, I urge you to read this account of life among hard-working farmers and railway workers, card players and drinkers and sample the flavor of a by-gone time and place. A dip into local history can transform your ancestors from names, dates and vital statistics on a page into living, breathing human beings.

Larry & the Roanes at the Land Office

As noted above, while Concerning Mary Ann supplies atmosphere for early Monroe County, it provided no reliable information for my Roane / Roan branch. Ward took the memories of an elderly Mary Ann (Coughlin) Murray (1860-1957) and crafted scenes with bachelor twins, “Ed and Pete Rohan,” who, supposedly, accompanied Mary Ann’s father, “Larry Cofflin” (Lawrence Coughlin, 1827-1901) on his first train trip to Iowa.

The “Rohans” of Larry’s time were Patrick (1829-1910) and Edward Roane (by 1834-?). Whether the men were brothers, much less twins, remains a matter of conjecture. The facts show that Patrick Roane was a married man with a wife and child when he arrived in Iowa, sometime before April 1855.2 His family was captured in the 1856 Iowa census, with a year-old son, James, born in Iowa.3 To date, no Edward Roane shows up in that enumeration.

On pages 21-22, Ward tells a vividly detailed story about the day Larry (Coughlin) made his commitment to a new life in America, as he bought government land to farm. (Excerpt below)

Early one winter morning, with a breakfast of corn-dodger and pork in him, Larry went afoot through the dark to the tavern at the stagecoach line, his money strapped again around him, but no longer inside his shirt. He was off to the land office to take the eighty that he and Burns had eyed for him. The office was log, with a wooden floor and one window and an open fireplace. Not a soul was within as Larry entered…1

The solitary nature of this account is especially surprising to me, because that day, April 9, 1855 (not winter), is the single, bona fide day that Larry Coughlin, Patrick and Edward Roane were all together for a momentous event. In the Chariton land office, each man purchased an abutting 80-acre parcel of land. Their names can be seen in the purchase register, written in the same clerk’s hand, and with consecutive transaction numbers.2

Valuable insights

As you can imagine, I read this book carefully, highlighting every mention of the Rohans, neighbors to the Coughlins as the immigrant generation raised the American families on their farms. Interestingly, the twin brothers disappeared and the narrative speaks of a single family, which we know to have been that of Patrick and Mary Roane / Roan, among their children, were a Peter and an Edward, who Mary Ann knew growing up, and whose names she recalled for the immigrant story. But there was an Edward Roane of that older generation. What happened to him?

Perhaps, the most important information in the book, for me, is Ward’s depiction of the upset railroad building caused in Monroe County and beyond. Where I once envisioned quiet farm living for miles and miles around, Ward describes the first railroads coming through, even cutting across farmers’ land. Also, railroad companies paid men $2 a day, when the prevailing rate for farm work was fifty cents. “Murray, Cofflin and every one…was there, in off seasons, with a team or shovel.”

Others took advantage of railroad workers from outside the community with money in their pockets. An enterprising man named Fox “…opened a tavern called “The Shebang,” and herself (his wife) ran a shanty or boarding house, …Tyrone boomed. In no time it had six saloons, though it had hardly a dozen families.

“The matter came home to Mary Ann’s people. Under the pressure of events their neighbor Roan went with his family to run a shanty. A farm, once proved up would keep, and just now high wages and “cuts” and “fills” and greenhorns on the road were buzzing in everybody’s ears.”

These pioneering immigrant farm families turned out to be more agile and adaptable to events and opportunities than I imagined. The railroad work could explain why, after buying his 80 acres, Patrick Roan’s occupation in the 1856 state census3 and the 1860 federal census was “laborer.”4 Patrick was not identified as a farmer until the 1870 federal census.5

Edward Roane remains a mystery man, there at the beginning and then he vanished.

  • Did he die early and unremarked?
  • Did he enlist to fight in the war?
  • Did he follow the railroad in its push west?

I suspect, when Patrick Roan was laid to rest in Saint Patrick’s Cemetery on an April day in 1910, all knowledge, all memory of Edward, probable brother and possible twin, was buried with him.

Sources

1.Concerning Mary Ann, Leo R. Ward, C. S. C.; Illustrated Edition, 2007, edited by Leigh Michaels and Illustrated by Michael W. Lemberger; PBL Limited, Ottumwa, Iowa. (Available at www.pbllimited.com).

2. Bureau of Land Management; https://glorecords.blm.gov/details/tractbook/default.aspx?volumeID=181&imageID=0213&sid=xzvn5ixh.z40#tractBookDetailsTabIndex=1

3. Ancestry.com (http://ancestry.com : accessed 1 Nov 2016); Roane; Iowa, State Census Collection, 1836-1925. Rec. Date: 8 Jan 2016.

4. Ancestry.com; 1860 United States Census. Burlington, Des Moines, Iowa; Roll: M653_319; Page: 17; Image: 17; Family History Library Film: 803319.

5. Ancestry.com; 1870 United States Census. Wayne, Monroe, Iowa; Roll: M593_412; Page: 471A; Image: 34670; Family History Library Film: 545911.

GROWING the IRISH IMMIGRANT TREE | Martin Dolan (1870-1926)

Stylized tree graphicI am luckier than most in nailing down origins for Irish immigrant ancestors, but not all of them. I have quietly uttered impolite words on reading, “born in Ireland,” on a new-found record.

My great-grandfather, Thomas Francis Dolan’s was born in County Roscommon, Ireland, [1] but with parents, John and Ann, and the common surname, DOLAN, I may never learn my Dolan ancestral townland. However, discovering Thomas had a brother who came to him in Boston, let me add another branch to the family tree.

I’m slightly embarrassed tell you that my great-granduncle, Martin Dolan, was right there all along but, laser-focused on my direct line (Thomas), rendered Martin invisible! He was listed on the page with Thomas, on Jewett Street in Jamaica Plain (Boston, MA) in 1893 [2] and 1894 [3]. Both men were also employed as plasterers. The identity-clincher was Martin’s 1895 marriage record that gave parents’ names, John and Ann Dolan, matching up with Thomas. [4]

Also, I should have been quicker to suspect the “Mortimer Dolan” who witnessed Thomas & Bridget Dolan’s marriage (1890), was actually, Martin! Note: This reaffirms the value of the FAN Club (Friends, Associates, Neighbors) approach to the ancestor hunt.

Becoming an American

Martin disembarked in Boston on April 14,1886, when he was 16 years old. His elder brother had arrived there in 1874, when he was only eleven. Thomas had a dozen years of Boston living experience. Martin had lived five years longer than his brother in the land of his birth.

Was Thomas was at the dock to meet Martin? Was there communication between Roscommon and Boston? Did Thomas expect his brother, or did Martin find his own way through a strange city to his brother’s door? At this remove, there is no way to know.

At any rate, Thomas proved himself a good brother. He provided Martin a place to live and helped him learn a skilled trade (plaster work), rather than having to take one of the dangerous, back-breaking and lowest-paid jobs that countless Irish laborers were forced to take. Thomas became a citizen of the United States in 1887 and guided Martin through the process finalized in 1893. [2]

As Roman Catholics, Thomas and Martin would have certainly attended Sunday Mass at the parish church. They might have attended church events to socialize. The young bachelors were certainly interested in meeting nice, unmarried, Catholic girls.

Thomas found his lady first, a later immigrant arrival named Bridget Dolan. (Yes, she had the same surname as Thomas, and was born in County Roscommon, too!) As mentioned above, at their marriage in St. Thomas Aquinas Church (1890), Martin stood up for his older brother. It also appears he stayed on, living and, probably, working with his brother. Bridget kept house, did laundry, cooked meals, and gave birth to two children in the five years before Martin found a wife and became a householder himself.

The Brothers’ Paths Diverge

Thomas Dolan made but two big moves in his adult life. He left the plastering trade when he was hired by the City of Boston in 1906, and stayed until his retirement. [5] And Thomas relocated his family just once, leaving Jewett Street (Jamaica Plain) for a house on Brown Avenue, (Roxbury) where he lived until his death. By contrast, Martin Dolan continued to work as a plasterer until 1916. [6] However, he had eight residential addresses between the years 1895 and 1920, that’s a lot of instability for a family.

Martin Dolan married Rose Duffy, at the Church of the Assumption in Brookline, Massachusetts. [7] They embarked on married life, as couples still do, confident that love and faith, woould see them through. Ten months later, Martin and Rose added a new leaf to the family tree; this was Mary Ann (1896), followed by Helen (1898), Anna Teresa (1900) and Edward James (1903) who all grew to adulthood. In 1906, a tiny girl, named Rose, for her mother, failed to thrive and died at six weeks.

Such a tragedy would be hard on any family at any time, but during these years, Martin had moved Rose and the children, a number of times. The anchoring parish church changed, too. The two eldest daughters were baptized in Our Lady of Perpetual Help. In 1900 through 1903, they were attending All Saints. The infant Rose was baptized at St. Francis de Sales (1906).

Evidence of crisis at home is revealed by the 1910 US census, in which Martin absent and Rose Dolan enumerated as head of household and married 16 years. To support herself and the four children, Rose worked as a laundress, at the time, difficult and backbreaking labor. [8] Where Martin was in 1910 and what he was doing with himself remains unknown.

For the 1920 US census, Martin was back as head of household. He was listed as 47 years old and working, not as a plasterer, but as a shipper for a drug factory and Rose was back to keeping house for Martin and three of their four surviving children: Mary (23 and married), Edward (16) and Annie (19). [9] Helen Dolan wed in 1918 and was living with her spouse, John Hannon. [10]

In May 1926, Martin Dolan died at 56 years of age. He had some problems that were swallowed up by the passage of time. But he was blessed to see each of his children married. Martin rests in Mount Benedict Cemetery, in the plot the family obtained for their infant daughter, Rose, 20 years before. [11]

Epilogue

That might have been the end of my tale, but for my reluctance to omit the fate of Martin’s widow. Rose (Duffy) Dolan stayed in the rented apartment she shared with Martin on Webber Street, Roxbury; it may have been the same place she and the children were living in 1910. In 1948, her children were busy raising families and Rose, now in her seventies, was living alone. After having weathered a stint as mother and breadwinner, living through the first world war, the influenza pandemic, the Great Depression, and the second world war, The Boston Traveler of November 13, 1948, reported:

Hub Woman, 77, Critically Burned

Mrs. Rose Dolan, 77, of Webber street, Roxbury, was critically burned this noon when flames from a flooded kitchen oil range ignited her clothing.
Her Grandson-in-law, William Estano, 21, of Hampden street, Roxbury, received burns on the arms and hands as he came to her rescue and smothered the flames.
Mrs. Dolan lives alone in her third floor flat and Estano and his wife Helen, 20, were assisting the aged woman with her housework when the accident occurred. Mrs. Dolan was taken to City Hospital by police and her name was placed on the danger list. She received third degree burns. Estano was treated at the hospital and released.

Rose died of her injuries two days later. She joined Martin and little Rose in eternal sleep at Mount Benedict.

Rose’s heroic grandson, William Estano, (spouse of her granddaughter, Helen Hannon), recovered. He lived to survive his wife Helen’s passing in 1988. Not only that, he learned to love again, in his 60s, before he went to his own rest at the age of 81.

iCeltic Shamrock symbol

Sources

[1] Ancestry.com; Massachusetts, Petitions and Records of Naturalizations, 1906-1929; National Archives at Boston; Waltham, Massachusetts; ARC Title: Copies of Petitions and Records of Naturalization in New England Courts, 1939 – ca. 1942; NAI Number: 4752894; Record Group Title: Records of the Immigration and Naturalization Service, 1787-2004; Record Group Number: RG 85: Petitions, V 148, 1887-1888.

[2] Ancestry.com; National Archives at Boston; Waltham, Massachusetts; ARC Title: Petitions and Records of Naturalization , 8/1845 – 12/1911; NAI Number: 3000057; Record Group Title: Records of District Courts of the United States, 1685-2009; Record Group Number: RG 21: Naturalization Records, No 235-40 to 239-102, 26 Nov 1892 – 27 Sept 1893.

[3] Ancestry.com; U.S. City Directories; Boston, Massachusetts, City Directory, 1894.

[4] Ancestry.com; Massachusetts, U.S., Town and Vital Records, 1620-1988; Boston, Massachusetts; Out of Town Marriages, 1893-1895.

[5] MyHeritage.com; Massachusetts Newspapers, 1704-1974; The Boston Post (Boston, MA); Friday, June 7, 1935; Page 7 of 32: City Retires 13 Employees.

[6] FamilySearch; “Massachusetts, Boston Tax Records, 1822-1918”, (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:68S6-44N1 : 23 August 2021), Martin Dolan, 1916.

[7] Ancestry.com; Massachusetts, U.S., Town and Vital Records, 1620-1988. Marriage Place: Boston, Massachusetts; Title: Out of Town Marriages, 1893-1895.

[8] FamilySearch; 1910 United States Federal Census; Roll: T624_620; Page: 11A; Enumeration District: 1508; FHL microfilm: 1374633.

[9] Ancestry.com; 1920 United States Federal Census; Roll: T625_735; Page: 6A; Enumeration District: 330.

[10] FamilySearch; “Massachusetts Marriages, 1841-1915,” Boston, Suffolk, Massachusetts, United States, State Archives, Boston; FHL microfilm 828,894.

[11] Boston Catholic Cemetery Association; https://search.bostoncemetery.com/

The Man Who Loved Trees

Though I never knew him, I have felt particular affection for my great-grandfather, Thomas Francis Dolan, and it’s because of a story my mother told from her childhood in the aftermath of the great New England hurricane of September 21, 1938.

Thomas Dolan was born in County Roscommon on 8 December 1863, to John and Ann Dolan. He disembarked in the port of Boston, Massachusetts on 4 May 1874, when just 10 years old. [1] Because of the commonality of Irish immigrants named Dolan in Boston, details of his history remain unknown. To compound the issue, in 1890, Thomas married a 22-year-old domestic named Bridget Agnes Dolan, at St. Thomas Aquinas Church. [2]

As a young man, Thomas learned the trade of plastering and made a living for his young family that grew to include six children. Sometime before the 1910 census, he became an employee of the City of Boston. He spent the remainder of his working life as a gardener for the Parks Department. [3] [4]

The steady job enabled Thomas and Bridget to buy a house, at 108 Brown Avenue in the Roslindale neighborhood. When she was young, my mother fled there when she got into trouble or was irked by some perceived injustice at home. (Grandmother Bridget would give her a dusting cloth and set her to work.) Mom knew her grandfather brewed beer in the cellar and would disappear below to enjoy a drink in peace.

With the homes within walking distance, Mom recounted that her elderly grandfather routinely planted and maintained flowers outside their house, pushing his wheelbarrow of up a steep hill to get there, an act of love and joy.

After that awful, unexpected, September storm hit, the nation reeled. An account states, “At the Blue Hill Observatory in Milton, just south of Boston, winds reached 121 mph, with gusts nearing 200 mph, still the second highest winds ever recorded in the Bay State. Boston and the northern tier of Massachusetts were spared the worst of the storm.” [5]

Library of Congress | New England hurricane. Apple orchard in Connecticut. [6]

In addition to the lives, homes and businesses lost, so many trees were blown down that President Franklin Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corps and the Works Progress Administration took two years and 15,000 workers to clear the destroyed trees. Paper mills processed them for nine years. [7]

One day following the hurricane, Thomas arrived with his wheelbarrow at my mother’s house to assess the damage to the yard. On discovering a large a tree pushed over, its roots torn from the earth, the 75-year-old braced himself and used his back to push the tree upright, before resettling its roots. Watching him from the window, eyes agog, were his grandchildren. The vivid impression he made on my mother has endured more than 80 years, as I pass it on.

In the 1940 census, two years after his herculean feat, Thomas Dolan was listed as “unable to work.” [8] He died in 1943 [9] of myocarditis, an inflammation of the heart muscle, which seems oddly apt to me, for a man who so loved trees.

Sources / Citations

(1) Ancestry.com : Massachusetts, Petitions and Records of Naturalizations, 1906-1929. National Archives at Boston; Waltham, Massachusetts; ARC Title: Copies of Petitions and Records of Naturalization in New England Courts, 1939 – ca. 1942; NAI Number: 4752894; Record Group Title: Records of the Immigration and Naturalization Service, 1787-2004; Record Group Number: RG 85DescriptionDescription: Petitions, V 148, 1887-1888.

(2) AmericanAncestors.org : Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Boston Records, 1789-1900. New England Historic Genealogical Society, 2017. (From records supplied by the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Boston) https://www.americanancestors.org/DB1708/i/53711/81/0.

(3) Ancestry.com : 1920 United States Federal Census. Census Place: Boston Ward 23, Suffolk, Massachusetts; Roll: T625_740; Page: 17B; Enumeration District: 541; Image: 38.

(4) Ancestry.com : 1930 United States Federal Census. Census Place: Boston, Suffolk, Massachusetts; Roll: 956; Page: 26B; Enumeration District: 0502; Image: 1040.0.

(5) Massachusetts Foundation for the Humanities; MassMoments : September 21, 1938 Hurricane Devastates New England; https://www.massmoments.org/moment-details/hurricane-devastates-new-england.html.

(6) Farm Security Administration – Office of War Information Photograph Collection (Library of Congress); Dick, Sheldon, photographer; taken 1938 Sept.

(7) New England Historical Society; The Great 1938 Hurricane, A Once-In-A-Lifetime Storm; https://www.newenglandhistoricalsociety.com/great-1938-hurricane/

(8) Ancestry.com : 1940 United States Federal Census. Census Place: Boston, Suffolk, Massachusetts; Roll: T627_1679; Page: 10B; Enumeration District: 15-681.

(9) Ancestry.com : Massachusetts, U.S., Death Index, 1901-1980. Rec. Date: 8 Jan 2016; 1941-1945; Columbare – Gardsfelt.

Arsenic and Old… Butter?

Some of my Massachusetts colonial ancestors were among the first of the westward migration, driven by the desire for land. As the grand narrative goes, Americans triumphed over Native peoples, buffalo herds and other forms of life to span the continent. Some of the early arrivals to the province of New York, settled in and stayed there for generations.

My research focused on the fraught and fascinating Barlow family, descendants of the Quaker-hating constable George Barlow, who left Sandwich, Massachusetts and moved to New York. As I followed the trail, I happened upon the following:

Albany Argus (Albany, NY) – Tuesday, August 1, 1837

Holy mackerel! The Barlow I was looking at, is the above said “mother of Mr. H., an aged woman…” more easily recognized as Jemima (Barlow) Hitchcock. A daughter of Moses and Sarah (Wing) Barlow, and widow of Samuel Hitchcock, Jr. (1755-1806). Born in Amenia, Dutchess County in 1761 [1] and in 1837, living with her unmarried son, Gilbert, in Rensselaer County, when….

At Schodack, N. Y. on the 3rd inst., Mrs. JEMIMA HITCHCOCK, widow of the late Samule Hitchcock, aged 75. The deceased was the mother of Mr. Gilbert Hitchcock, and one of the eleven persons in his family who were recently poisoned by arsenic mixed in the butter by a negro serving girl. After thirteen days of extreme suffering, she died from the effects of the poison., and has left a large circle of kindred and friends to mourn her loss.”[2]

Wow, Jemima was murdered, according to newspaper accounts by “a negro serving girl.” This particular description was often, was a gentle-sounding way to say, slave. Another issue is that “girl” might have meant a child, as we would assume in modern usage; “girl” might have described an adult. Who was she? Did she do it, and if so, why?

A Trial, but no details

Albany Argus (Albany, NY) – Friday, September 22, 1837

The name of the accused is revealed, but this didn’t help with fleshing out this case. I looked for follow-up articles of the next trial and further news of the Hitchcock household, such as, did that second family member die or survive? I found nothing further of the Hitchcocks in the newspapers, but I did find a tiny item that confirmed the second trial took place and that a verdict was rendered.

Hudson River Chronicle (Ossining, NY) – Tuesday, April 10, 1838

So, Diana Van Aller or Dianna Van Allan was convicted and, presumably, was punished for the crime, which caused a death, but which the jury found was an unintended outcome. We can imagine, she was incarcerated for a time, where, when, and for how long, I don’t know. I found only one document which may record the accidental murderess.

In the 1850 US Federal Census for Troy, New York, living with a Williams family, is the following family:

Prince Vanaller – 50 – Black – Laborer – Born New York – Cannot Read / Write;
Diana Vanaller – 35 – Black – Born New York – Cannot Read / Write;
John H S Vanaller – 8 – Black – Born New York;
Catherine Vanaller – 5 – Black – Born New York;
Jane Vanransselaer – 80 – Black – New York – Cannot Read / Write. (3)

If this is the same person, Diana would have been born about 1815, making her about 22 in 1837, when she worked for the Hitchcock family and described in the above accounts as a “Black girl” and a “negro serving girl.” She might also have been Prince Vanaller’s (Van Aller) young wife.

If John and Catherine are her children, she would have been living with her husband in 1841 (as John was born about 1842). Perhaps, the sentence rendered in 1838 was for two years and Diana was released back to her husband. After 1850, Diana disappears. In the New York State census for 1865 (he was not found in the1860 US census), “Prince Vaneler” is still living Troy, a widower who was married twice.(4) Since Prince was 15 years older than Diana, it makes sense he had an earlier marriage.

If this is our Diana Van Aller, she died after the 1850 census and before the 1865 enumeration. We are left to wonder what happened and what was intended to happen the Hitchcock kitchen that fateful summer of 1837. Was it an innocent mistake? Was it revenge for mistreatment? Was it the doing of someone else altogether, meaning Diana was unjustly accused?

Poisoning was scandalous and popular

My newspaper database search for “poisoning,” from 1837 through 1847, turned up 421 results. The very same headline, “Attempt to Poison a Family,” was employed for other such incidents. In addition, the descriptive, “diabolical,” was clearly the journalistic go-to in this period for alleged intentional acts. Some of these poisonings were accidental (contamination) and some were substances mistakenly consumed. However, purposeful poisonings by wives and husbands, and “negro servants,” were not rare. Arsenic, the agent of Jemima (Barlow) Hitchcock’s death, mixes well, not only with butter, but ice cream, custard, tea, coffee, buckwheat cakes and, in one case, a jug of rum.

Sources:

  1. NEHGS, AmericanAncestors.org (AmericanAncestors.org : accessed 19 Feb 2018), George Barlow descendants. Rec. Date: 8 Apr 2016; The Register, Vol 172, Winter 2018; George Barlow, the Marshall of Sandwich, Massachusetts and his Descendants for Three Generations by Ellen J. O’Flaherty(concluded from Register 171, 2017).
  2. Commercial Advertiser (New York, NY), Thursday, August 10, 1837; Page 2.
  3. Ancestry.com; 1850 United States Federal Census; Year: 1850; Census Place: Troy Ward 1, Rensselaer, New York; Roll: 584; Page: 32a.
  4. Ancestry.com; New York, U.S., State Census, 1865. Rec. Date: 8 Jan 2016; City: Troy Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2014. Original data: Census of the state of New York, for 1865. Microfilm. New York State Archives, Albany, New York.

Resources:

GenealologyBank.com, Newspapers Archives Online ($ubscription service)

Slade Slaves in Swansey, Massachusetts

Early probate records for colonial Massachusetts show enslaved human beings, – men, women and children, in wills and estate inventories.

In my last post, I promised to tell to what else, besides the sweet bequests, I discovered studying the wills of Jonathan Slead (1703-1764) and his wife, Sibel (Tisdale) Slead (1701-about 1779), of the Bristol County town of Swansea, Massachusetts, and the title of this article says it all.

It’s sobering to discover one (or more) of your ancestors held fellow human beings captive, forced them to labor, and worse. Fellow fans of the PBS series, Finding Your Roots know what I’m talking about, – the moment Henry Louis Gates, Jr. provides a nice, clueless celebrity with documented evidence of an ancestor held fellow humans in bondage.

Sketch from History of the Town of Somerset by William A. Hart, 1940. Digitized at Archive.org.

Jonathan Slead’s will, made February 8, 1764, is very long. He operated the Slade Ferry franchise, had lots of real estate, and was a wealthy man. Without children to take over, he had much to dispose of and conditions to be . The following excerpts are those germane to the topic:

————————————————————————————————————————–

I Jonathan Slead of Swansey in the County of Bristol and province of the Massachusetts Bay in Newengland, yeoman…

– I Give and Bequeath unto my well beloved wife Sibel : the Use and Improvement of one Half of this My Homestead farm ; and two thirds of All my household goods … My Negro Man Named Lot : and my Negro Garl Named peg : and my Negro Garl Named Mercy

– I Give and bequeath unto my cousin Philip Slead son of my brother Edward Slead Deceased, that Orchard which I bought of William Slead which was formerly Robert Gibbs : And also my Negro boy named Daniel : to him the sd Philip Slead his heirs and assigns forever…

– I Give and bequeath unto Jonathan Slead son of my cousin William Slead Esqr Deceased : all that farm which I purchased of Pelatiah Majors : and which was former the sd Jonathans fathers farm : to him the sd Jonathan Slead I Give it and to his heirs and assigns forever : and the profits of sd farm I order to be Used for Educating the sd Jonathan until he arrives to Lawfull age. I also give the sd Jonathan My Negro Man named Isack … my Executor shall Diliver him the two cows and the mair and the Negro Man if Living…

– I give and bequeath to my two cousens namely Elizabeth peirce and Lydia Slead my Negro Garl Cate

– I give to the two Daughters of my cousen William Slead Esqr Deceased namely Elizabeth and Rose Slead my Negro Garl named Luce

– It is my will that my Negro Woman Mereah shall be free at my decease and have her bed and her cloths and to live in my house so long as she liveth : and if she should come to want then my will is that my Executor shall Support her comfortable so long as she Liveth…

– I Give and bequeath unto my couzen Samuel Slead son of my brother Edward Slead Deseased and to his heirs and assigns for ever all the Rest and Residue of this my homestead farm… after my wife hath don with it : And the fery boat and the privileg of the ferry : and also the one half of my boats… : and also four Negros namely Roger and Phillis and har two children Cofe [and] Mereah (1)
————————————————————————————————————————–In addition to noting the eccentricities in spelling, were you counting? Jonathan names twelve (12) slaves, the “Negro” men, Lot, Isaac and Roger, women Mereah and Phillis, a boy, Daniel, “girls” Peg, Kate, Mercy, Luce and Phillis’s two children, Cofe and Meriah.

Notably, Jonathan directs that his slave, Mereah, be freed upon his death, allowed to live in his house and be comfortably supported until her own passing, differing significantly from the fates of the others. Lest you think this act is a sign of tenderness, consider that it is most likely Mereah was an older woman with little market value who might also have been nursing Jonathan’s through his illness and decline. A promise of freedom and support, might have guaranteed the quality of care Jonathan desired.

The Valuation

Swansea town records state, “Cpt Jonathan Slead Departed this Life November the 2:1764 In the Sixty Second year of his age.”(3) Shortly thereafter, appraisers, Jerathenal Bowes (or Bowers), Andrew Cole and William Brown went to work. They submitted an estate inventory to the probate court dated December 1, 1764. The salient excerpt is below:

…a Wood Boat cal’d Phenioc [£]65
A Negro Man Cal’d Lott £60
A Negro Man Cal’d Roger £63
A Negro Woman Cal’d Pegg £43
A Negro Woman Cal’d Mercy £35
A Negro Man Cal’d Israel [Isaac] £60
A Negro Woman Cal’d Phillice £45
A Negro Boy Cal’d Daniel £50
A Negro Woman Cal’d Kate £40
A Negro Girl Cal’d Lucy £37
A small Negro Boy Cal’d Cuff £20
A Negro Child Cal’s Merecah £6
A Pair Large oscen (oxen) £15
A Pair Staggs £14 8s…
one cow £4 10s
one cow £8…

Did Sibel do better?

Jonathan’s widow, Sibel (Tisdale) Slead lived nearly 15 years more, in the material comfort provided her. While the day she died isn’t known, the probate file for her estate is dated August 3,1779. The file contains the will Sibel made in 1771, when she bequeathed the silver spoons to her namesakes. As we know, she inherited the enslaved persons, Lot, Peg and Mercy from Jonathan. See the excerpts concerning them below:

————————————————————————————————————————— to my sister Phebe Winslow – my negro Girl named Mervey [Mercy]…

– to my negro man Lott, his Freedom, with all his wearing clothes & his Chest and all his things…

– to my negro woman named Pegg, her Freedom and all her wearing clothes, her Chest, and Bed and bedding and all her things… (2)

————————————————————————————————————————–It seems, Sibel appreciated the service (however coerced) Lott and Pegg provided her and “rewarded” them with their freedom (on her death). It’s also possible Lot and Peg were aged or ill, and cutting them loose from the estate would lower maintenance costs if they were unable to earn their keep.

I’d like to think Lot and Peg had many years ahead in which to enjoy their freedom, but while Sibel allowed them to take their clothes, a bit of furniture and personal effects, she gave them no money, no dwelling, no bit of land. Where were they to go? How were they supposed to live?

And then, there was Mercy, a “Garl” (girl) when Jonathan disposed of her in 1764, and still a “girl” seven years on, when Sibel wills her to her married sister, Phebe (Tisdale) Winslow and lastly,

————————————————————————————————————————— I will and order my Executor… to sell my negro man named Jace, and to give him the liberty to choose his Master and to deliver the money that said Jace sells for to my sister Phebe Winslow..

————————————————————————————————————————–

We learn that Sibel acquired another slave after Jonathan’s death. She chose to sell him away for cash. And how much “liberty” Jace (or any enslaved person) would have “to choose his Master” is debatable.

So, no, Sibel did not undergo a personal moral evolution, but movers and shakers in colonial Massachusetts were getting louder, championing freedom for in the years between Jonathan Slead’s death in 1764 and Sibel’s passing in 1779.

The Times were Changing

In 1764, the year Jonathan Slead (Slade) died, James Otis (1725-1783), a leading proponent of colonial independence, wrote in an influential pamphlet that “The colonists are by the law of nature freeborn, as indeed all men are, white or black.” (4)

Then in 1775, tired of being denied representation in government, and determined to make their own way in the world, Massachusetts men began to throw off the yoke that made King George III master. What did Sibel think of the conflict and the changes happening around her? Slade’s Ferry, once run by her husband and right on her doorstep, was targeted for capture by the British forces (the attempt failed).

Sibel was certainly not moved by the ideals of freedom for all, as evidenced by her continued enslavement of Lot, Peg, Mercy and Jace. She did not live to see who would win the war and may have believed her countrymen could never defeat Great Britain.

A Slade Abolitionist

Well to do Slade descendants continued to enjoy privilege as the young United States struggled with growing pains, including moral dissonance between stated ideals of freedom for all men and the continued practice of chattel slavery.

It took a while, but at least one Slade descendant was an activist for slavery’s abolition, and the great-great nephew of Jonathan and Sibel, Avery Parker Slade (1818-1889). An account of his funeral from The Boston Journal (18 Nov 1889) reads in part:

The services were conducted by the Rev. Mr. Howard of Somerset, assisted by Rev. E.[Edward] Edmunds of Boston and Rev. M. J. Talbot, D. D. [Micah J. Talbot] of Providence, R. I. both brothers-in-law of the deceased. Dr. Talbot’s eulogy of the deceased was particularly eloquent and impressive. In it he alluded to Mr. Slade’s pioneer labors in the causes of abolition and total abstinence, to his earnestness in education and agriculture, and to his generosity and his other noble traits. (5)

References:

(1) Jonathan Slead will. NEHGS, AmericanAncestors.org (AmericanAncestors.org : accessed 19 Jul 2021), Bristol County, MA: Probate File Papers, 1686-1880. Rec. Date: 8 Apr 2016; Probate Record 1765; Location Swansea, Bristol, Massachusetts, United States; Original Text Case Number 23481, Page 1 of 25; Volume Name Bristol 22000-23999, Page 23481:1Bristol County, MA: Probate File Papers, 1686-1880.

(2) Sibel Slead will. Ancestry.com. Massachusetts, U.S., Wills and Probate Records, 1635-1991. Rec. Date: 8 Jan 2016; Source Citation Probate Records 1687-1916; Index, 1687-1926 (Bristol County, Massachusetts); Author: Massachusetts. Probate Court (Bristol County) Description Notes: Probates, Vol 26, 1779-1781.

(3) Cpt Jonathan Slead Departed this Life November the 2:1764 In the Sixty Second year of his age. Massachusetts: Vital Records, 1620-1850 (Online Database: AmericanAncestors.org, New England Historic Genealogical Society, 2001-2016).https://www.americanancestors.org/DB190/i/13932/221/251748415

(4) Massachusetts Court System Guide – Massachusetts Constitution and the Abolition of Slavery

(5) NewsBank database and images, GenealogyBank.com (http://www.genealogybank.com/ : accessed 10 Aug 2021); Boston Journal (Boston, MA). Rec. Date: 28 Jan 2016; Boston Journal (Boston, MA); Tuesday, Nov 19, 1889; Vol: LVI, Issue:18529, Page 3.

Resources:

History of Bristol County, Massachusetts, with biographical sketches of many of its pioneers and prominent men; Dwayne Hamilton Hurd; 1883. (Digitized at Archive.org)

PBS – Finding Your Roots with Henry Louis Gates, Jr.

Massachusetts Court System Guide – Massachusetts Constitution and the Abolition of Slavery

Wikipedia – History of Slavery in Massachusetts

History of Massachusetts Blog – Slavery in Massachusetts

American Creation – James Otis: Abolitionist

Silver Spoons for Seven Sibels

Married couples before the twentieth century had no choice but to produce a new baby about every other year. Despite high infant mortality, families with twelve or more children were not uncommon.

What about couples not “blessed” with children? Were they all ‘sad and unfulfilled,’ as common wisdom says? Some would have felt their lives lacking, certainly. Some would have relished their quieter, simpler home lives. Besides, married people, with and without offspring, routinely engaged with their in-laws, nieces, nephews, and neighbors’ children. Relatives routinely took in youngsters (temporarily or permanently) whose parents were sick or had died, or just to help out during hard times.

For businessmen connections were necessary to build and maintain wealth. Reading wills made by men (and women) of property, provides evidence that childless couples were neither isolated from fecund folks, nor lacking in ties to young people.

The union of Jonathan and Sibil (Tisdale) Slead (Slade)‘s is one such example from my colonial era cousins in Bristol County, Massachusetts. The pair wed in December 1725, [1] and lived in the town of Swansea.

Among other interests, Jonathan operated Slade’s Ferry across the Taunton River. [2] When he died in 1764, his will left land and property to kinsmen and “cousins” (most of whom were children of his deceased brothers). He also left a considerable estate to his beloved wife, Sibel. [2]

Historic Slade’s Ferry, circa 1909. When a bridge spanning the Taunton River opened to the public 1875-1876, the ferry service ended. | Author Unknown; Wikimedia Commons image.

When Sibel turned 70 years of age, she made her own will, “I Sibil Slead of Swanzey…” dated May 10 1771 and approved for probate August 3, 1779 (her death occurred somewhere between).

With the first item, Sibel earmarked five pounds in money to the Baptist Church of Christ. Next, she dealt with land given to her Slead (Slade) kinsmen. More bequests were made to in-laws, sisters and a brother, all of which is pretty regular stuff. Then, the next item caught my eye:

“I Give and Bequeath to Sibel Chase (b. 1740), daughter of Elisha Chase, and to
Sibel Tisdale (b. 1750), daughter of Antipas Tisdale, and to
Sibel Shearman (b. 1746), daughter of Salsbury Sherman, and to Sibel Winslow (b. 1748), daughter of George Winslow, and to Sibel Tisdale (b. 1758), daughter of Solomon Tisdale, and to Sibel Slead (b. ?) daughter of Benjamin Slead, and to Sibel Slead (b. 1765) daughter of Phillip Slead…”
[3]

Over a period of twenty-five years, seven babies were given Sibel’s name, beginning in 1740, the 15th year of the Slade’s marriage. The timing seems poignant, as Sibel was approaching her 40th year, suggesting that she may have shared with intimates, her belief that she wasn’t destined to have a child of her own. As the will demonstrates, Sibel had the sympathy and regard of seven sets of parents, al least. (It is possible, there were more little Sibels, but they did not survive to be included.)

Sibel’s parting gift to her namesakes was of the sort she might have left to a daughter of her own; she dictated:
“…to each of them six silver Tea spoons to be delivered to them by my Executor.”

American-made silver teaspoon, 1700-1800, from the Metropolitan Museum Of Art,
image donated to Wikimedia Commons.

Next Time: Some not-so-nice revelations from the wills of Jonathan & Sibel (Tisdale) Slade.

Sources

  1. “Rhode Island Town Marriages Index, 1639-1916,” database, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:Q29P-7BW1 : accessed 16 August 2017); Swansea, Bristol, Massachusetts, United States, town halls, Rhode Island, and Rhode Island Historical Society, Providence; FHL microfilm 52.
  2. Taunton Daily Gazette; OUR VIEW: Crossing the Taunton — A history; https://www.tauntongazette.com/article/20110717/News/307179955
  3. Will of Jonathan Slead of Swanzy; NEHGS, AmericanAncestors.org (AmericanAncestors.org : accessed 16 Aug 2017), Slade. Rec. Date: 8 Apr 2016; Mayflower Descendant, The; Vol 46 (1996), page 40.
  4. Will of Sibil Slead; Ancestry.com (http://ancestry.com : accessed 2 Jul 2021); Ancestry.com. Massachusetts, U.S., Wills and Probate Records, 1635-1991. Rec. Date: 8 Jan 2016; Probate Records 1687-1916; Index, 1687-1926 (Bristol County, Massachusetts); Author: Massachusetts. Probate Court (Bristol County) : Vol 26, 1779-1781.

Drifting to Prince Edward Island

Map of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick & Prince Edward Island c. 1890

For this profile, I picked a 3rd-great-granduncle who shares my birthday (albeit about 140 years apart), James Gilbert Wiggins (1815-1903), born in Gagetown, Queens County, New Brunswick, to Jacob Fowler & Elizabeth Ruth (Slocum) Wiggins. [1]

Thus far, I’ve been spoiled by Canadian provincial archives online collections, especially those for New Brunswick, where most of my loyalist families ended up in 1783). In this WIGGINS line, I discovered a few folks who settled on Prince Edward Island, a completely new research locale for me. Prince Edward Island is not as easy to research, thank goodness, there are good church records [2] and between those, census records, [3] and Find A Grave, I was able to sketch an outline of the James G. Wiggins story.

James never knew his father, Jacob F. Wiggins, who died the same year he was born. As he was the youngest among 17 children, he had a mother and lots of older siblings to help care for him. His older brother, the Reverend Abraham Van Guelder Wiggins (Rev. A. V. G. Wiggins) (1804-1856) was perhaps, a key influence in James’s life, as he  lived on Prince Edward Island and officiated at James’s marriage there to Eleanor Compton Green in 1840.[4]

James and Eleanor first lived in Queens County, New Brunswick as their daughters, Virginia Esther (1841) and Sarah Amelia (1843)  were born there. The move to Prince Edward Island occurred after Sarah’s birth and before that of William in 1845, who baptized by his uncle, the Rev. A. V. G. Wiggins. Elizabeth in 1848 and John in 1850 were also baptized by their uncle into the Anglican Church. 

The Wiggins family of Prince Edward Island added four more children: Abraham (1855), Helen (1857), Samuel (1859) and James (1864). James was said to have become “a wealthy farmer and manufacturer of Summerside Prince Edward Island” around 1876 when E. Stone Wiggins published The History of Queens County in the newspaper, the Watchman. Thus far, I haven’t found evidence to corroborate that assertion. I expect there is some sitting in an archive on the island.

Eleanor Compton (Green) Wiggins died at 65 years in 1882, [5] having given birth to nine children and seen her youngest reach manhood. Her widowed husband, married a year later.

James, 68, traveled back to New Brunswick to wed a woman 28 years his junior, Eliza A. Ballantine in Westfield, Kings County. The Daily Telegraph of Saint John, NB carried the following:

m. Westfield (Kings Co.) 7th inst., St. James Church, by Rev. A.V. Wiggins, A.B., rector, assisted by Rev. H.T. Parlee, curate, James G. WIGGINS, Esq., Alberton, P.E.I. / Eliza A. BALLENTINE d/o late Thomas BALLENTINE, Esq., Westfield.[6]

Did you notice the officiant is Rev. A. V. Wiggins? Not Rev. A. V. G. Wiggins, James’s brother (he died in 1856). I believe, this is Abraham Valentine Wiggins, James and Eleanor’s third son. The next step is to prove it.

 

Sources:

[1] Wiggins, E. Stone. The History of Queens County. NB: Queens County Historical Society, 1993. Rec. Date: 8 Jul 2016.

[2] Finding Your Canadian Story (blog by Candace McDonald) | Prince Edward Island Ancestors: PEI Church Records on Family Search

[3] Library and Archives Canada – Genealogy and Family History.

[4] “Prince Edward Island Marriage Registers, 1832-1888,” FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:QVBJ-KJ7Z : 11 March 2018), citing , Prince Edward Island, Canada, Public Archives, Charlottetown; FHL microfilm 1,630,091.

[5] Find A Grave (http://www.findagrave.com/ : accessed 9 Mar 2020), Find A Grave Memorial no. 58191529, citing Saint John’s Anglican Church Cemetery, Saint-Eleanors, Prince County, Prince Edward Island, Canada.

[6] Provincial Archives of New Brunswick (http://archives.gnb.ca/ : accessed 8 Mar 2020); Daniel F Johnson’s New Brunswick Newspaper Vital Statistics. Daniel F. Johnson : Volume 59, Number 521, Date June 8 1883, County Saint John, Place Saint John, Newspaper The Daily Telegraph.

The Insane Asylum

When I discover an ancestor who spent time in an asylum, it’s a moment for reflection and gratitude for being born into times with a more sophisticated take, and better tools to address mental health care.

Provincial Hospital, formerly the Lunatic Asylum in St. John, NB

The former Lunatic Asylum in St. John, New Brunswick (McCord Museum photo, 1988)

Robert Patterson Holmes was a son of Isaiah & Jane (Kincaid / Kincade) Holmes, born in Studholm Parish, Kings County, New Brunswick, around the year 1860. Robert grew up in a household filled with boys, a few older and a few younger than himself. Like almost everyone living in this rural area, Robert’s father was a farmer.

Chores kept everyone busy, from spring plowing and sowing, to animal care, to building, fence and tool maintenance (while crops grew) through the busy harvest time. All the Holmes boys contributed to supporting the family farm. They likely also spent some time in school, at least enough to learn to read and write. As Free Will Baptists, [1] the family likely attended church services when able.

The 1881 Canada census shows the Isaiah and Jane Holmes’s household included three sons, aged 24 (Abraham) to 11 (George). Robert (21 years), however, was not in his father’s house, but living in a house next door with his slightly older brother, Jacob, and both engaged in farming. [2]

At first, I didn’t think it was relevant that the family split into separate dwellings. It is normal for young men to move out of the parental home (though, usually, it is when they marry). In retrospect, it’s possible Robert began to display symptoms of mental illness. If he had become disruptive, or otherwise hard to live with, moving him out, may have been a way to maintain peace, while keeping close watch over Robert’s condition.

In the next decade, Robert’s brother Jacob married, and for the 1891 census, Robert was a member of his parents’ household again. The record shows he was a blacksmith, a valuable trade for the family farm and the larger community, and he was earning wages.[3]

The records go silent for about seven years, until February 1898, when Robert Patterson Holmes, age 38, married Jane E. Fanjoy, age 18. The couple obtained a license, and were wed at the residence of Rev. B. H. Nobles in Sussex (Kings County). Rather than the customary, two marriage witnesses (often family members or friends), there was only one signature, of a May Fayette.[4]

Three years later, I did not find Jane in the 1901 Canada census, but I did find Robert no longer in Kings County, but in in Saint John City; no longer blacksmith or farmer, but   among the “Names of Insane in Provincial Insane Asylum”  –

Line 46: Robert Holmes | Married | Born 1863 | Age 38 | Born New Brunswick | [No religion] | Laborer. [5]

In 1904, two documents record his death, the first I looked at was the Saint John Burial Permit No. 777:

Date of Death: June 16, 1904 – Robert P. Holmes – 43 years – White – Male – Married – Residence: Sussex, N. B. – Place of Death: Provincial Lunatic Asylum – Place of Birth: Sussex, N.B. – Occupation: Farmer – Place of Interment: Sussex, N.B. – Nature of Disease or Cause of Death: Asthenia – Physician: J. Boyle Travers, M.D. – Undertaker: E. Hallett – City of St. John – June 17, 1904 – (signed) E. Hallett [6]

The second document, the Provincial Death Return, reports mostly the same information, slightly differently:

Robert Holmes – Residence: Sussex – When and Where Died: June 16th, 1904, P. Hospital – Male – Age 42 – Occupation: Farmer – Where Born: N.B. – Religious Denomination: Episcopalian – Cause of Death: Asthenia – Duration: 4 mos – Physician Attending: Medical Supt. – Signature of Party Making Return: J. Boyle Travers, M.D. [7]

I thought, perhaps, the official (Dr. Travers) tried to water down the stigma for the survivors by calling the institution in which he died, the Provincial Hospital, rather than, as the undertaker (E. Hallett) called it, the “Provincial Lunatic Asylum.” That wasn’t the case. As it happened, times were changing, and in 1903, the official name was changed to the Provincial Hospital. The doctor was correct and the undertaker acted out of habit.

The case of Robert Holmes was a lesson in jumping to conclusions, especially in dramatic and tragic circumstance. I was reminded that doing additional research will provide context and facts that result in sound conclusions.

I will likely never learn more about the short and difficult life of Robert Holmes (or his young wife who seems to have disappeared), however, he found peace. And he was not buried on the grounds, as were patients that had no family. Robert came home to rest in his native Sussex, King County, New Brunswick.

Sources:

Provincial Lunatic Asylum at St. John; http://www.asylumprojects.org/index.php?title=Provincial_Lunatic_Asylum_at_St._John

Free Will Baptist; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Free_Will_Baptist

Lunatic Asylum photo courtesy of the McCord Museum, 690, Sherbrooke West
Montréal (Québec) H3A 1E9; mccord-museum.qc.ca

St. John, New Brunswick and the Origins of Canadian Mental Health Care; https://loyalist.lib.unb.ca/atlantic-loyalist-connections/saint-john-new-brunswick-and-origins-canadian-mental-health-care

Citations:

[1] “Canada Census, 1871,” database, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:M4MX-C9D : 24 October 2018), Robert Holmes in household of Isaiah Holmes, Studholm, Kings, New Brunswick, Canada; citing 1871; citing National Archives of Canada, Ottawa, Ontario.

[2] “Canada Census, 1881,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:MV6H-W97 : 20 May 2019), Robert Holmes in household of Jacob Holmes, Studholm, Kings, New Brunswick, Canada; from “1881 Canadian Census.” Database with images. Ancestry. (www.ancestry.com : 2008); citing Jacob Holmes, citing Library and Archives Canada, Ottawa, Ontario.

[3] “Canada Census, 1891,” database, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:MWKF-92G : 3 August 2016), Robert Holmes, Studholm, Kings, New Brunswick, Canada; Public Archives, Ottawa, Ontario; Library and Archives Canada film number 30953_148103.

[4] “New Brunswick Provincial Marriages 1789-1950,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:QVBF-S1VQ : 13 March 2018), Robert Patterson Holmes and Jane E Fanjoy, 11 Feb 1898; citing , , New Brunswick, Canada, p. 30, Provincial Archives of New Brunswick, Fredericton; FHL microfilm 2,024,691.

[5] “Canada Census, 1901,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:KHK8-VFW : 16 December 2019), Robert Holmes, Saint John (county/comté), New Brunswick, Canada; citing p. 53, Library and Archives of Canada, Ottawa.

[6] “New Brunswick, Saint John, Saint John, Burial Permits, 1889-1919,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:Q2WK-LY6G : accessed 6 March 2020), Robert P Holmes, 16 Jun 1904; citing Saint John, St. John, New Brunswick, Canada, Provincial Archives of New Brunswick, Fredericton; FHL microfilm 1,412,536.

[7] “New Brunswick Provincial Deaths, 1815-1938,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:XGHJ-PJ9 : 17 August 2019), Robert Holmes, 16 Jun 1904; citing Sussex, Saint John, New Brunswick, certificate 002260, Provincial Archives, Fredericton; FHL microfilm 2,320,317.

The Ballad of Martin Hurney

There is no song called, “The Ballad of Martin Hurney,” but there should be. if anyone had a life as woeful as that of “Oh my darling Clementine,” (who drowned in her gold digging father’s mine shaft). He came to mind as I read the MassMoments topic for January 21, Sixth Massachusetts Volunteer Regiment Organized.

It’s not that Martin was a member of the 6th Massachusetts, he wasn’t. He had the luck to miss out on being attacked by a crowd in Baltimore, Maryland where a fellow Lowell, Massachusetts man was killed, but it wasn’t long before he himself enlisted (25 May 1861) with the 2nd Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry for a three-year term.

At five-foot eight and one-half inches tall, with blue eyes and brown hair, Martin likely cut a fine figure in his uniform. The 21-year-old Irishman might have been itching to march off to glory, and away from an unexciting shoe and boot making trade. Money played into the decision as well.

In 1860, the first Shoe Makers Strike occurred in Lynn, Massachusetts, not far from Lowell. Industrialists were not paying a living wage to skilled workers. Martin’s pay as a Union private would be a steady $13 a month for his three-year hitch. He couldn’t know, then, the true cost of his decision.

In July 1861, The 2nd Massachusetts Company G left Camp Andrew in West Roxbury for Maryland. For the remainder of the summer and the fall, Martin  guarded supply trains at Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia, not too bad. The next order from command, however, was to pursue the rebel general “Stonewall” Jackson down the Shenandoah Valley.

The men were driven hard. They endured hunger, lack of sleep, cold and rain. They slogged through miles upon miles of mud and slept on wet ground. In the battle of Winchester, Virginia in May 1862, Martin Hurney suffered a gunshot would to the hand.

On 29 August 1862, he was admitted to Post Hospital Convalescent Camp in Alexandria, Virginia and remained there five months. He received a surgeon’s discharge for disability on 5 February 1863 with a doctor’s note: “Vertigo and Syncope from cardiac disturbance.” In other words, Martin suffered from dizziness and fainting due to heart irregularities.

Martin’s gunshot hand must have healed, but that underlying heart problem should’ve been concerning. Yet, he apparently felt well enough, four months later, to join the navy. Did he mention his medical condition to the recruiting officer? And, would he have cared at that point in the war? Having served on  the gunboats, Ohio and Savannah, he helped maintain the blockade on southern ports until he was discharged on 6 August 1864.

Days later, on 11 August 1864, Martin Hurney joined the Massachusetts Cavalry at Dorchester. In 1885, long after his death, his wife Mary tells us in a letter to the Secretary of Interior, that Martin thought handling horses would easier than his navy duties, but his health soon deteriorated. He fell from his horse “from which he received injuries to the Bowels sent him to Hospital for two months or more at the close of the war. “

Mary also explains why Martin despite serious health conditions, kept enlisting in the service: “Martin Hurney being a poor man and unable to work at his trade and large Bounties being offered as an inducement and unfitted for service in the Infantry and still anxious to serve his country to the end of the Rebellion…”

It was part patriotism and part economic survival, which is pretty much the same reason folks join the military today.

So yes, Martin survived the war. In 1866, he married in Detroit, Michigan, Mary Monahan and the couple had several children. Martin’s health got worse. He often could not work at all. The young family lived in dire poverty.  Martin Hurney died on 4 May 1874, not of a heart condition, but of tuberculosis. He was 34 years old.

There was great suffering and a heap of woe in Martin Hurney’s life. He was a striver, he loved his country, and he should have a ballad. But, you know what? I think his wife, his widow, Mary (Monahan) Hurney deserves to celebrated in song as well.

Mary was not yet 30 years old when Martin left her with three little boys, and no money. She, somehow worked to keep them going for six years. In 1880, she finally applied for a widow’s pension. The government ignored her and put her off for 13 years. In 1893, nearly 20 years after war veteran Martin Hurney’s death, the government conceded the debt owed, and specified monthly payment rates for Mary and the surviving children (to age 16), – but the documents in the pension file do make clear that the widow and sons ever received money.

Sources:

Oh my Darling Clementine, Traditional; Genius.com; https://genius.com/Traditional-oh-my-darling-clementine-lyrics

Mass Moments; https://www.massmoments.org/moment-details/sixth-massachusetts-volunteer-regiment-organized.html

Ancestry.com; American Civil War Soldiers; Historical Data Systems.

The Great New England Shoemakers Strike of 1860; New England Historical Society; https://www.newenglandhistoricalsociety.com/great-new-england-shoemakers-strike-1860/

Soldier’s Pay In The American Civil War; “The Civil War Dictionary” by Mark M. Boatner; Civil War Home; civilwarhome.com/Pay.htm

National Archives and Records Administration (NARA); US Civil War Pension Files; Martin Hurney.

Undone by a Hat: The Drowning of Frank J. Donahoe

On the night of June 4, 1895, a message arrived in Lowell, Massachusetts for 75-year-old Peter Fitzpatrick, informing him his 30-year-old son, Philip H. Fitzpatrick, was dead in Savannah, Georgia. Peter instructed authorities to send his son’s body home to Lowell, however, Savannah replied, no way.

In a haze of grief, the elderly Fitzpatrick began packing a bag for the thousand-mile trip south. The dreadful news spread across the familial network of Fitzpatricks, Rileys and Donahoes, and, perhaps, his sister Bridget Donahoe, realized Peter should not undertake the journey alone. Frank J. Donahoe stepped up to accompany his uncle. From the downtown depot, the men took the train to Boston. They may have gone on to New York by rail, in order to board the first steamship bound south.

On arrival in Savannah, Peter and Frank had their grief compounded, as they learned Philip Fitzpatrick’s remains had already been buried in the interest of public health, and exhuming the body was forbidden.  the men were certainly shown to Savannah’s Catholic cemetery on Wheaton Street. There, they said their goodbyes and offered prayers over a mound of freshly-turned earth. Their mission a failure, the bereaved father and cousin left for home.

Their ship had covered hundreds of watery miles northward when a squall hit off New York City. The Lowell Daily News of Thursday, June 13, 1895 reported what happened:

THE DROWNING OF FRANK J. DONAHOE.

A GREAT WAVE SWEPT HIM OFF THE STEAMER’S DECK.

There was a High Wind and a Heavy Sea–his Hat blew off, and he Reached for it Just as the Big Wave swept over the steamer.
—-
Last night a dispatch was received from the agent of the steamer on which Frank J. Donahoe and his uncle, Peter Fitzpatrick, sailed from Savannah for New York. It stated that a man named Frank Donahoe was lost overboard from the steamer.

Peter Fitzpatrick arrived in Lowell on the nine o’clock train this morning and full particulars of the sad affair were made known. Mr. Fitzpatrick is looking well after his rough voyage, but he is terribly agitated at the sudden taking of his nephew. The steamer is supposed to be the Algonqula of the Clyde line, Capt. Pratt in command, but Mr. Fitzpatrick is not sure of this. The steamer had a very rough voyage, the passage being unusually severe, the captain informed Mr. Fitzpatrick and his nephew [who] were standing on deck. The sea was very rough. A gale of wind blew Frank Donahoe’s hat from his head at about 11 o’clock. He attempted to catch it before it fell overboard. It was a fatal attempt. A great wave swept across the deck and he was carried into the ocean. No help could be given him.

For the heartbroken Peter Fitzpatrick, there were two deaths, two bodies he could not bring home, yet the resilient old man lived 85 years. What of his nephew whose fate decreed he’d get just half that time on Earth?

Francis “Frank” J. Donahoe – Lowell businessman and politician

H.A. Thomas & Wylie. (ca. 1896) Man Wearing Tuxedo, Holding Bowler Hat. , ca. 1896. [N.Y.: H.A. Thomas & Wylie Litho. Co] [Photograph] Retrieved from the Library of Congress

Man holding a bowler hat, circa 1896, Library of Congress [9]

Frank was born in 1852, an older brother of my great-grandmother (Mary J. (Donahoe) Roane), the fourth of ten children of Patrick and Bridget (Fitzpatrick) Donahoe. [1] As a young man, he started working in a woolen mill, but he had higher aspirations and, for at least eight years (1881-1889), he was a grocer on Lowell’s Kinsman Street. [2, 3]

Civic minded, Frank got involved in Ward Three politics. He just missed being an elected representative in city government in 1879. [4] He was a recognized democratic leader in 1893 as he planned to stand for a city council seat. It was reported he had “presided at caucuses and other political gatherings.” [5] In May 1894, he was voted chairman of the Ward Three Committee. [6]

Having focused on his grocery business and democratic politics, Frank didn’t marry until 1889, when he was 37 and well enough established to support a family. His bride was [3] 22-year-old, Mary A. Donahoe (likely, a distant cousin).

As befitted a man rising in the world, Frank would have carefully maintained his appearance. Susie Hopkins, in History of Men’s Hats, explains:

…the nineteenth century heralded a new age for men’s hats in the Western world, which reached its zenith at the turn of the twentieth century, when no gentleman would ever step out of his house without wearing a hat. Men’s clothing was dictated by sobriety and egalitarianism and hats fulfilled an important role in subtly marking differentials, personal and professional ones, as well as social class distinction. Top hats, bowlers, derbies, boaters, fedoras, panamas, and cloth caps were all created during this century and lasted well into the twentieth century. [7]

I can’t know for sure, but I’m willing to bet Frank wore a bowler, also called a derby. It was the most popular hat worn by men in America in the 19th century, including Billy the Kid and Butch Cassidy. Lowell had at least one store dedicated to male fashion in the 1890s, “Wm. P. Brazer & Co. Hatters & Mens Outfitters,” at Central & Market streets, advertised in the city directory.

In his personal life, the the family he hoped for never happened. The reason may have been Mary’s health. She died of tuberculosis in April 1894, leaving Frank alone.[8] Two months after Mary died, Frank’s younger brother Patrick followed her to the grave.

How Frank handled these tragedies is unclear. He left the grocery business at some point after 1889. The Lowell directory for 1895 lists Frank living on Keene Street with his widowed mother. His occupation was – janitor.

Frank wouldn’t have been the first man to fall apart on losing his life’s partner. Maybe he fell apart before the end. “Consumption” (tuberculosis) is a cruel wasting disease, and we don’t know how long Mary was sick and Frank surely suffered along with her. If he tended her during a protracted illness, he may have been unable to keep up with the demands of a grocery store. He may have sold out or lost the business. It’s possible Frank took to drink to ease the pain.

When the news of Philip’s death arrived in Lowell, it had been a year since his wife Mary and his brother Patrick died. Having so long felt powerless to help the people he loved, Frank rallied. Proven articulate and persuasive in city politics, he could assist his uncle with officials in Savannah. He could be of use to his loved ones.

Frank may have dressed hurriedly to make the train, but he took care to make a good appearance, from the shine on his shoes, to the finely made hat on his head.

 

Sources: 

  1. “Massachusetts Births, 1841-1915”, database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:FXC4-NTL : 1 March 2016), Francis Donahue, 1852.
  2. Lowell, Massachusetts, City Directory, 1881. (Images online at Ancestry.com)
  3. Town and City Clerks of Massachusetts. Massachusetts Vital and Town Records. Provo, UT: Holbrook Research Institute (Jay and Delene Holbrook). Lowell, MA, 1889. (Images online at Ancestry.com)
  4. The New Democratic City Committee Indulge in a Midnight Session – Recount of Ward Three Votes; More Lowell Daily Citizen and News Saturday, Sep 13, 1879 Lowell, MA Vol: XXIX Issue: 7247 Page: 2. (Images online at GenealogyBank.com)
  5. Lowell Daily Sun, The (Lowell, Massachusetts), 1893 October 25; Page 1, Col. 3. (Images online at GenealogyBank.com)
  6. Lowell Daily Sun, The (Lowell, Massachusetts); 1894 May 1; Column 2: Caucuses. (Images online at GenealogyBank.com)
  7. History of Men’s Hats, Susie Hopkins; LoveToKnow: Beauty and Fashion; https://fashion-history.lovetoknow.com/fashion-accessories/history-mens-hats
  8. Massachusetts Vital Records, 1840-1911. New England Historic Genealogical Society, Boston, Massachusetts. Lowell Deaths, 1894. (Images online at Ancestry.com)
  9. H.A. Thomas & Wylie. Man Wearing Tuxedo, Holding Bowler Hat. , ca. 1896. [N.Y.: H.A. Thomas & Wylie Litho. Co] Photograph. https://www.loc.gov/item/2014636873/.

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