A big problem with the early literature is its extreme bias toward the Eurocentric (one might even say bigoted) perspective on the conflicts between Native Americans and European settlers. I can only shake my head, hold my nose, and make use of what facts I can find. But I digress.

The earliest such work is History of Wyoming, in a series of letters, from Charles Miner, to his son William Penn Miner. Philadelphia; J. Crissy, 1845. Charles Miner (1780-1865) was a prominent journalist and politician from Luzerne County.

The second is Wyoming; its History, Stirring Incidents, and Romantic Adventures (!), by George Peck, D.D. New York; Harper Brothers, 1858. According to the author, although published later than Miner’s history, it is based on even earlier interviews (1841) with Martha Myers. The Rev. Dr. Peck (1797-1876) was a Methodist minister of some note (as were all four of his brothers).  He no doubt enjoyed special access to Martha Bennett Myers, because (although it is not mentioned in the book) he was married to the Myers’ daughter, Mary. Peck was also grandfather of author Stephen Crane.

Both of these sources are available, free and complete, online at Google Books. Just click on the underlined titles above. Peck devotes a full chapter, nearly 70 pages, to his conversations with Mrs. Myers. Both authors emphasize her clear mind and cordial nature, despite old age and blindness. This is what Charles Miner had to say about their conversation:

In his Pictorial Field-Book of the Revolution (1851) – also available on Google Books – Benson J. Lossing writes,

It seems that we owe much of our knowledge of Philip and Lawrence Myers – including, I believe, the very existence of the two other brothers, Michael and Henry – to the “clear memory” and “mental vigor” of the elderly Martha Bennett Myers.

The name is fairly common, both in the British Isles and in Germanic regions of Europe. It is thought to come from the same root as our common English term “mayor,” and originally designated a civic official, or the offspring of one.

“Myers,” by far the most common spelling today, is of English origin, as are “Myres,” “Mires,” “Miers,” and others. German speakers never include the “s,” and have their own set of variants. The most common (in 18th-century documents, anyway) seems to be “Meyer,” followed by “Mayer,” “Meier,” “Moyer,” etc., etc.

Of course, when Germans immigrated to America, English influence began to make itself felt, and most of the immigrants with this name eventually became “Myers.” Most, but not nearly all of them. Worse, a single family, or even an individual, is likely to turn up spelled differently in different documents, sometimes within the same document!

For example, my most recent project involved the Frederick County land holdings of Michael Myers (1768-1815). In reviewing a dozen documents, all undoubtedly referencing the same individual, I found “Myers” nine times, “Myer” twice, and “Moyer” once.

In terms of lookups, the ending “s” is of little consequence, as “Myer” and “Myers” will be adjacent to each other in the index. But the other variants require searching under “Ma…,” “Me…” “Mi…” and Mo…,” in addition to “My…” One thing is certain: a name spelled differently is in no way evidence of a different individual.

Jody’s assignment was Harry Eugene Colby (1822-1903), a long-time resident and businessman in the town of Onawa. As Jody discovered early in her research, H. E. Colby happens to by my great-great grandfather (Dan Myers’ maternal grandfather). So, for the past six months, Jody and I, and cousin Gail Myers, have carried on a lively correspondence, and exchanged a great deal of information. I must admit that much more info flowed from Jody to me than in the opposite direction. For this I am nominating her an honorary cousin.

Jody’s report is now complete, and it is impressive indeed. Just for starters, here are the tombstones of Mr. and Mrs. Colby:

For my part, I had already assembled an extensive pedigree for Harry Colby, dating back to to the pilgrims, and indeed into ancient history. My info on his descendants, other than my immediate family and a few Myers cousins, was a lot more sketchy. Jody’s work has identified literally dozens of cousins among the Colby’s about whom I knew nothing whatsoever. Also included in the file are biographies of Harry and two sons, from a recent historical publication, and his obituary from the local newspaper upon his death in 1903:

Onawa, IA Jan. 27: The death of Mr. H. E. Colby, Sr. a highly esteemed citizen of Onawa, which occurred on Saturday evening, removes one of Monona County’s pioneers. For nearly 50 years Mr. Colby had been a citizen of Monona County having settled here with his wife as early as the spring of 1855 coming from the town of St. Charles, Kane Co., IL.

Mr. Colby was a native of New York and was born in 1822. In early life he engaged in the mercantile business in that state, and followed that until locating in this county. Mrs. Colby died a number of years ago. Three children yet survive, Mrs. Stephen Myers and Frank E. and Harry E. Colby.

Mr Colby during his life filled various public offices in Monona County and for several terms was elected a member of the board of supervisors in which capacity he proved one of the best and most efficient in the attention given to county affairs. At one time he devoted himself to farming and lived in Franklin twp, but in later time he and his son Frank were engaged in business. Mr. Colby retired from active affairs about 10 years ago since which time he has led a quiet life. He was a man possessed of splendid qualities as a citizen, hospitable, straight forward in manner and always above reproach. He was ill but a few days having contracted a sever cold, followed by weakness of the heart from which he failed to rally owing to his advanced age. Funeral services were held at the late family residence and the remains interred in the private plot in the Onawa cemetery this afternoon.

As for Susan M. Eldridge, I previously had nothing but her name, and an old photograph from my mother’s collection.Oops, I will have to revise the estimated date of the photo, since she died in 1893. Jody provided not only her precise birth and death dates from the tombstone, but also her obituary, from the Monona County Democrat, March 30, 1893:

Better yet, Jody found somewhere the names of Susan’s parents: Gardner Eldridge, and Permelia (sic). That is most exciting to me, as I had been searching in vain for those names for a very long time. If I can verify this, I think I can trace her heritage back several more generations, and even tie her in as an approximately sixth cousin of her husband! Stay tuned for that. Meanwhile, a thousand thanks to “cousin” Jody. Next: Helen and Stephen Myers.

Note that in this piece, Thomas’ surname is spelled with one “t.” Apparently, Thomas himself changed the spelling. However, in keeping with common 19th-century practice, the earlier sources I have been quoting paid no attention to that detail.

The work puts a great deal of flesh on the bones of the more genealogically oriented “Families of the Wyoming Valley …” which was my most extensive resource up until now. If you were fascinated by the quotes I posted in the series on Philip Myers, and on Thomas and Martha Bennett,  I highly recommend this volume. It must be out of print, as copies (mainly used) are widely available but rather expensive online. However, it should be available at your local library, either in their own collection or by inter-library loan. Look for some brief quotes here in the near future.

Here is the timeline: Anne and her companions allegedly committed their burglaries in March-April of 1840. Presumably, they were arrested between then and June 1 of that year, when the local magistrate sentenced Anne to 8 months in prison, and her two companions to lesser terms. Anne appealed her sentence, and it was upheld by the mid-level court in Oslo, the Stiftsoverret, on August 17 of the same year. The case was further appealed to the Høyesterret, or supreme court, also in Oslo, who also upheld the sentence, but not until April 23, 1841, more than 8 months later. The same day, Anne entered Oslo prison.

The nagging question: Where was Anne, and what was her status, during those intervening months? More specifically, in the weeks just prior to the Høyesterret order? It seems quite a stretch to assume not only that she did not attend the Stiftsoverret trial, but also that she was at home, free on bail or something of the sort, right up until leaving for Oslo (a journey of at least two weeks), just in time for the final session in Høyesterret. But that is the only scenario in which it is plausible that her husband, Lars Paulsen, was the baby’s father. If her pregnancy was full-term, Ole must have been conceived around March 10. If the birth was at all premature, which seems likely under such harsh conditions, conception would have been even later.

The unpleasant (one might even say, ugly) alternate scenario would be that Anne was the victim of sexual assault by a soldier, guard, or other official while in custody. That kind of violence probably occurred back then at least as often as it does today.

As disturbing as the thought is on a personal level, it has very little impact on my genealogical work per se. Of my eight great-grandparents, I have by far the least ancestry information for Ole; least of all for his putative father, Lars Paulsen. In fact, if my deduction is correct about Lars’ father, Paul Sveinsen Flaade, the line ends right there. Even if I am incorrect, and previous work holds up, the pedigree peters out just a few generations earlier. This situation is due to a fire that destroyed all the church records of Fron parish prior to about 1800. What information we do have comes from individual farm records collected by a historian of the region, which are hit-and-miss, to put it mildly.

Whether or not the missing facts ever come to light, this has to qualify as the “grandmother” of all “skeletons in the closet.”

Coming up: recollections of Reatha’s early life, from her own lips, with new details on Grandpa Isaac Larson.

]]> http://olelarsonsfolks.net/Blog/2010/04/05/paternity-uncertainty/feed/ 0 http://olelarsonsfolks.net/Blog/2010/04/03/annes-crimes/ http://olelarsonsfolks.net/Blog/2010/04/03/annes-crimes/#comments Sat, 03 Apr 2010 15:01:03 +0000 George http://olelarsonsfolks.net/Blog/?p=2592 It has been a good many months since cousin Myrna (tusen takk, fetter) retrieved for me a certain court document from the Oslo regional archive, namely the sentence of the Stiftsoverret (something like a mid-level appeals court) against our great-great-grandmother, Anne Larsdatter Skurdalshaugen, dated 17 August, 1840. It was an extremely tough nut to crack. Here is a typical example of the handwriting:To view the complete document, click here.

I finally asked a professional genealogist in Sweden to transcribe the handwriting into typewritten characters. At first she accepted the job; then when she looked more closely at it, changed her mind, saying it was too difficult. But I twisted her arm, promising to accept whatever partial transcription she could render. The result was very incomplete, but with the help of my friend Berit to translate, and by hours of comparing with the Høyesterret (Supreme Court) document I already had, we were able to make some sense out of most of it. I will not be posting it in much detail, as it mostly reiterates (or I should say “pre-iterates”) the general outline of the other sentence. You can view that complete document in its printed form, with a good translation, here.

Both of these courts simply affirmed the sentence originally imposed on Anne by the magistrate (Sorenskriver) of southern Gudbrandsdal, which document I have not yet located, if it even survives.

The Stiftsoverret does provide a clue as to why Anne’s case came to the higher courts, while those of her accomplices, Kari Olsdatter and Ole Engebretsen, did not. It says that Anne was sentenced to eight months in prison, while Kari got six months, and Ole only three. Apparently, that is why Anne appealed her sentence.

There is a more complete list of the items taken by the three thieves in their two (possibly three) nights of burglary; all measurements are approximate. Dollar amounts are in Specie dollar, roughly equivalent to U.S. dollars of the period:

>Some wool and/or woolen garments, value about $2, recovered.
>A dress, value $0.50, recovered.
>”small things,” value $0.08,  recovered.
>Butter, value $0.30, “other food;” compensation waived.
>”Some foodstuffs,” old shirts, 7 yards of burlap, and some yarn, value $1.50, recovered.
>1/2 measure(?) of herring, 1 bucketful of potatoes, 5 turnips (or cabbages), and one piece of pork (bacon or ham?), value altogether $0.50, compensation waived.

Total value of all items stolen by the three thieves: around $5. Of course this was 1840; in today’s dollars, maybe $100. Still, not a great fortune, and all of it food or clothing for hungry and impoverished families. Mind you, this came on the heels of four consecutive years of crop failures. According to historian Einar Hovdhaugen, people were grinding up birch bark and moss to make bread. The question comes to mind: were Anne’s deeds “crimes” in the sense of anti-social behavior, or were they desperate, instinctual efforts toward her family’s survival?

But as to the question simmering in my mind all these months, one of genealogy, neither of these two court documents offer any clue whatsoever.

Next: Who’s your daddy?

The Myers brothers, being Germans from Maryland, were not Yankees per se, but fought on the Patriot side, and threw in their lot with them when they moved to the Wyoming Valley following the Revolution.

I will be posting excerpts from the above-mentioned pages, with my own commentary, in coming days. But the complete original can be read for free at this site. The section on the Myers and Bennett families begins near the bottom of page 629. Caveat: The narrative is strictly from the Yankee perspective. The Pennamites may have a competing version, even more so, the Indians, who are reviled on every page of this source.

Bygdebok for South Fron

Back in June, I did some work on the bygdebok (farm & family book) for Fron parish, the source cited by Ragnhild Kjorstad in her landmark letter of 1989 regarding the pedigree of Lars Paulson. Based on my reading of this prior source, I concluded that Ragnhild made a mistake when she connected Lars’ father, Paul Svensen Flaade, as a son of Sven Paulsen Lillegaard, who owned the latter farm prior to his death in 1756.

It is true that the bygdebok states that Paul Svensen Flaade is “possibly” from Lillegaard. The problem is that another Paul Svensen, son of Sven Paulsen and no way the same person as Paul S. Flaade, owned the Lillegaard farm itself from 1760-1790. That would seem to prove that “our” Paul Svensen Flaade must be (a) not from Lillegaard after all, or (b) at least the son of some other “Sven.”

But there is another possibility I did not consider at the time: (c) What if Sven Paulsen Lillegaard had two sons named Paul! Wildly unlikely, to be sure, but not completely unprecedented. In poring over a large amount of census data from a variety of places and periods, I have seen it once or twice, where two children in the same family had the same given name. Here is a related fact: it was customary in 19th c. Norway, and elsewhere, to reuse a child’s given name if an older child  died before another of the same sex was born. One can imagine possible reasons for expanding on this custom; for example if the first son was sickly, with a poor prognosis for survival, or possibly in the case of an illegitimate child (!- and we have bumped into a few of those in our closet, haven’t we ).

In our own time, we have the example of boxer, buffoon, and pitchman George Foreman, who named all five of his sons “George.” I thought that was just a joke just made up for a TV commercial, but I looked it up. It is a bona fide, legal, factual joke.

I’m not “rehabilitating” Sven Paulsen Lillegaard and his 4 generations of ancestors back into my data just yet, but perhaps I was a bit hasty in ruling them out.

The website is called Arkivnett Oppland. Here is just one of the images.

husmann c. 1890

This link will take you to the photo gallery. The text is all in Norwegian, but I also found a very much improved translation engine at Google Translate. It is still far from adequate, but you can make some sense out of most of it. Gallery with Translate

The translation of husmann is variously “crofter” or “cotter.” There is lots of good background in the articles too. I found them worth trying to read, even in Google’s very partial translation. One more image:

Keep in mind that these dwellings are probably not the worst, but the best that this class of people had to live in. And they are surely dressed in their finest clothes for the rare opportunity of being photographed. The clothes may have looked even poorer a generation or so earlier, before factory-woven textiles were widely available. I hope you enjoy this excellent collection at Arkivnett Oppland.

Next: Amundsons, part III.

What that means is, we have lost the four prior generations traced by Ragnhild from this branch of our ancestry; that is, the ancestors of Paul Svensen Lillegard don’t belong to us. Oh well, win a few and lose a few …

I am posting the paragraph about Paul Svensen Lillegard here, even though he is not an ancestor, because  it sounds like a pretty good story in its own right.

Rough paraphrase: Paul Sveinsen received deed to Litlegard in 1760, as the eldest brother of his siblings. The farm was valued at 800 [dollars]. He married Rønnaug Amundsdatter Tåkåstad. In 1762 Paul Sveinsen received permission from the authority to cultivate 6-8 [land measure] of meadow and hayfield …  [to compensate for] damage from a landslide in 1760. This improvement was not accomplished. A storm in 1789 caused extreme damage to Litlgard. Of 50 [measure] of cultivated land, 10 were destroyed by landslide and flood. Of 38 [measure] of meadow, 24 were turned into a rockpile by the river. They were covered by so much rock and gravel, they could not be salvaged. Only 7 [measure] could possibly be repaired …  it would take 10 years. 2 haystacks were swept away by the river, as were 2 peasant plots and houses, also barns, food storage buildings, etc …

Elsewhere in the entry it says that Paul’s wife Rønnaug died the same year (1789). That may or may not have been connected with the devastating flood.

My, oh my! To twist an old cliché: “Hard times were had by all.”