Birthplace of my great grandmother, Eleanor Hartley, and other famous persons

If I had not researched my genealogy and family history, I believe I would have missed out on many things in my Life's Journey that were worth knowing about. It has made my life ... well ... more ENLIGHTENED. Take for example the birthplace of my great grandmother on my father's branch. She was born in Cockfield, County Durham, in northern England (go to the center of map below).

Image (click to enlarge): Map from tourist brochure of County Durham, England

On my family research trip to the British Isles in 1996, I picked up several tourist brochures and guides in Durham City. In the guide, "Teesdale and Barnard Castle", it was written, "... Cockfield [in County Durham], a peaceful village based on the coal industry and the birthplace of JEREMIAH DIXON, known for the Mason-Dixon Line [the official border between Maryland and Pennsylvania]". More research indicated that Jeremiah was actually born in Barnard Castle and went to the John Kipling school there. He died in Cockfield. Jeremiah Dixon and his colleague, CHARLES MASON, were astronomers who indeed were called upon by Thomas Penn and Frederick Calvert to survey the border between the two American colonies. The survey was completed in 1766. Jeremiah died in Cockfield in 1779, about 66 years before my great grandmother, ELEANOR HARTLEY, was born in the same village in 1845.

It so happens that I re-read this brochure a couple of years after I bicycled a portion of the Heritage Trail which runs from York, Pennsylvania, for a distance of about 30 miles, across the PA/MD border, and through Gunpowder Falls State Park. As I passed the Mason-Dixon line, I took a picture of a concrete pillar which apparently was one of several marking the Mason-Dixon Line (and posted it on my blog). A nearby historical marker presented several more facts on the Mason and Dixon team and its survey.

Image: Historical marker on the Heritage Rail-Trail detailing the history of the Mason-Dixon Line. It reads, in part, “Since the Civil War it has served as the boundary between the North and the South …”

I will never again cross the Mason-Dixon Line without thinking of Eleanor Hartley. Incidentally, three members of my immediate family now live north of the Line, while I live south. I cross the Line at least 6 or 7 times a year.

Another thing comes to mind when I look at the tourist map above. Eleanor Hartley was enumerated in the 1861 census of England as a "House Servant", age 16 years, born at Cockfield. She lived in a household which was located in Hurworth upon Tees, south of Darlington (bottom, right corner of map). There were only two other persons enumerated: RICHARD NEWTON, age 83, and his wife, MARY, age 90. I knew of a younger Richard Newton, who married Isabella, or Margaret, Hartley, who was the sister of Eleanor's father, in other words, her uncle. So, I suspect that Eleanor's employer was the father of this uncle. Furthermore, Richard Newton, the elder, was a "farmer of 160 acres, employing one man" according to the census. This was a real find because it took me a while to find Eleanor. The rest of her family, that is Eleanor's father, William Hartley, and four of his other children, were enumerated in the same year in a different location- in the parish of Hunwick and Helmington, Durham.

So, I look at Hurworth upon Tees on the map and think of my great grandmother, only 16 years of age, and working hard as a servant girl on a farm of many acres taking care of a very old couple and their hired hand. By the way, The River Tees marks the boundary between County Durham and Yorkshire in the south. Matter of fact, County Durham is often referred to as "the land ‘twixt the Tyne and the Tees".

Sentimental Sunday- Hiking no more?

OK, I bought into the Sentimental Sunday posts by the Geneabloggers group. I don't know how I am going to transfer this post to the list of entries by other bloggers, but I will eventually find out- one of these Sundays.

I spent a couple of hours this morning reading the Sentimental entries by other geneabloggers and they were great reads- a little bit different from some of the drier entries about genealogy and family history. They seem to focus more on intimate memories of persons and events. As I read, I kept looking in the back of my mind for some of the events in my life which are sentimental to me. The thought of hiking came to mind- actually of the time when I might have first fallen in love with hiking. I had to dig way back into both my memory and my photo albums. And I came up with the following image of some of the neighborhood kids and I hiking in the big woods near our homes in suburban Maryland. It was 1954, over fifty years ago. In the picture, we are hiking along a nearly dry creek bed. It was in the scattered puddles, that we crept up on frogs, salamanders, box turtles, and captured them for a closer look. I remember one time collecting at least 20 turtles which we took home and started a little zoo- until our parents made us release the reptiles back into the woods. That was when I first fell in love with the natural out-of-doors. However, I get sort or sad when I look at this photo, because the opportunity for this particular hike is no longer possible. A wide swath of the woods was paved over for the Beltway (I-495) of Metropolitan Washington, DC. More land was taken over for apartments and condominiums.

Hiking! I love it. I was born to hike. But the overall sentiment about this life-long love, is that it may be a thing of the past- no longer possible for me. For y'see, I have to walk with a cane now. My hiking legs have become so weak. And this is difficult to write about. I have been taking anti-androgen hormones for about 5 years now to suppress the proliferation of prostate cancer cells. Testosterone is a great hormone, but the lack of it means wasted muscle tissue and its replacement by fat cells. I sometimes wonder when the time will come when I advance from hobbling on a cane to a wheel chair. But even then I believe that some adjustments can be made so that I can still "go hiking" in my beloved woods.

This summer, I was camping in the Jefferson National Forest in Virginia at a place called White Rocks primitive campground. On the way to the campsites, I passed a short trail named Cherokee Flats. I pulled into the parking area and took a short walk- with my cane. The trail was quite flat and paved for most of its distance. The trail passed through a pristine forest among Rhododendrons, still showing the last blooms of late summer. The trail ended too quickly at Stony Brook creek, but long enough to experience THE HIKE.

Image: Walking slowly through the Cherokee Flats trail in Jefferson National Forest, VA

Vintage Baby pictures- HOLD STILL!

Chris, a friend of mine, was recently browsing an antique store in Barnegut, New Jersey, and found a magazine for collectors of postcards and other paper items. He mailed me a copy, because he knew that I enjoy collecting postcards which illustrate my family history. Incidentally, Chris collects old 45 rpm records; one time he tracked down a copy for me of Lee Dorsey's "Working in a Coal Mine". The song ends with the line, "Ohhh, I'm so tired".

In the studio photographs shown above, do you see the ghostly shape of another human being behind the baby- but hidden by a drape or curtain?

The January 2010 issue of The Paper and Advertising Collectors Marketplace (PAC CM) had an interesting article on "Uncovering the Hidden Mother (and Father) in Photographs. In the nineteenth century, exposure times for photographs were often measured by several seconds rather than fractions of a second as in modern cameras. So, how does a photographer hold a squirming baby down long enough to take an un-blurred picture- and still focus mainly on the baby? One way is to have the mother sit in a chair, hold the baby, and cover the mother's face with a drape or curtain.

The PAC CM magazine article mentioned several other techniques. In some cases, holes in the back of the chair were large enough for the mother to squat down and reach through the holes to hold the baby. A photographer named Fred Pohle invented a medal holder which babies were strapped into and held motionless for the photographer. Perhaps a less traumatic method was for the mother to hold the baby and then be cropped out of the picture during the processing or matting the picture so that the mother was hidden in the frame of the mounted photograph.

The article prompted me to go through my own photo collection looking for vintage baby pictures of my family to see if any of these techniques were used- particularly "Hidden mothers".

(click to enlarge; then use browser's "back" key)

Perhaps the oldest picture in my collection (see above) is that of my great grandparents, Thomas W. Russell and Eleanor, nee. Hartley, holding their second- and third- born children, Nicholson and Jane Ann or "Jenny". The date of the photo, 1880, is easy to pinpoint. Jenny was born in Sep 1879 and looks about a year old or less. The photo was taken at Schmiechen Studios in Sunderland, County Durham, England, and by Aug 1881, the family, or at least the father Thomas, had immigrated to Pennsylvania. In the picture you can see the parents have a pretty tight hold on the children, particularly holding their arms or tiny little hands.

Unfortunately, the first two children, both daughters, of Thomas and Eleanor died before this picture was taken. One daughter died at about a year; the other daughter, at 11 years. One of the points of the PAC CM article was that often pictures of children were taken because of the high infant mortality in the mid-19th century. The photographs served as reminders.

My great grandfather, Joseph Austel, had 10 children by his first wife, but only one child by his second wife, Rosa, nee. Friedrich. Rosa had a valued picture of the son, Paul, who died in 1904 at age 4 or 5 years. Rosa kept the photograph on an alter that she put together herself and placed at the top of the stairs leading to the second floor. She kept a candle burning on the alter. My mother remembers her grandmother praying at the makeshift alter, but somehow, the picture of Paul has been lost.

The two baby pictures above show my maternal grandfather, Charles Anton Gailliot, born 1894, and his first cousin, once removed, Mildred Ann "Millie" Gailliot, born 1907. Their common ancestors were Anton Gailliot and Johanna "Helena" Schlebusch. Both babies are propped on a chair and lay on what looks like sheep skins. Perhaps these shaggy foundations gave more warmth and comfort than if not present. Would that not have been a calming influence on a baby? In Millie's picture, on the right, there seems to be a folded piece of material behind her head. Could this be her "hidden mother". In certainly does not look like part of the chair. I like the cute way Millie is grasping the back of the chair in her left hand.

By the early twentieth century, cameras and films had improved so that exposure times were reduced, and thus the pictures were less likely to be blurred by the subject's movement. Still, the youngest child in the middle of these offspring of Robert William Kramp and Martha, nee. Streich (on left) apparently needed to be steadied. Note the sister holding the baby's hand.

On the right, is my grandmother's sister, Mrs. Rose Salmon, nee. Austel, holding her first child, John. John's left hand seems to be slightly blurred compared to the rest of the picture. I'm glad the beautiful mother in this case was not hidden.

LINKS AND REFERENCES:

1. Go to the homepage of The Paper and Advertising Collectors' Marketplace. Today, I could flip through the pages of their publication and see more pictures of "Hidden Mothers" in baby photographs including the whole text of the article. Perhaps in the future, one may have to look up Vol. 32, No. 1 (Jan 2010) on their site.

2. The "Dead Fred" genealogy photo archive web site also has an unidentified couple who were photographed at Bolko Schmieken Studios in England. I do not believe they are related to my family.

Pont du Mont Blanc and an Early Earth Day Celebration

This is my first blog entry associated with a group of Genealogy bloggers (so called geneabloggers) who upload vintage postcards to their sites- usually with a certain theme in mind. This month's theme is "white" which could refer simply to a black and white postcard or something white in the context of the picture card.

Following, is a black and white postcard from my collection. It depicts the Pont du (bridge of) Mont Blanc in Geneva, Switzerland. Blanc is French for "white" and refers to the distant snow-covered mountains in the upper left of the picture. Mont Blanc is the highest peak in the Alps, about 15,700+ feet, and can be see from several points around the city of Geneva on a clear day. One can obain excellent views of Mont Blanc and The Alps by climbing to the top of the darker-colored mountain in the foreground which is called Le Saleve, and then, turn around and have spectacular views of Geneva and Lac Leman (Lake Geneva). Mont Blanc is located on the border of France and Italy.

Image (click to enlarge): Vintage view of Pont du Mont Blanc (white mountains in upper left), with forested Ile de Rousseau on right. View looks south toward the old city of Geneva.

Image: Reverse of postcard

The bridge in the postcard crosses the Rhone River as it exits Lake Geneva (on left) and then continues on to France (on the right). The small island with trees in the middle of the river and to the right of the bridge is the Ile (Isle) de Rousseau. It is named for the philosopher, Jean Jacque Rousseau (1712-1778), who was born in Geneva and whose family lived there. Rousseau's "Discourse on the Origins and Basis of Inequality Among Men", published in 1755, is generally believed to have influenced the French Revolution. He dedicated the Discourse to his hometown of Geneva which he considered the most civil state in Europe.

The significance of this postcard is that it reminds me of the time my young family and I lived in Geneva for about two years between 1973 and 1975. I was on a post doctorate program researching diabetes at the University of Geneva. In our first month, my wife and our two young daughters, 4 and 6 years old, joined me in a walk to the edge of the city, and then we took a ride in a cable car to the top of Le Saleve. There was a little bit of snow on top and we threw a few snowballs.

Later in the Spring, the populace of the whole city celebrated Earth Day by abstaining from driving cars. Riding in the electric trams was OK. I rode my bicycle down to the Pont du Mont Blanc; the bridge was covered with bicyclists and pedestrians- and one very lonely taxi. Incidentally, Earth Day is celebrating its 40th anniversary next year, 2010. So the following pictures taken in 1974, were taken on about the 4th annual Earth Day.

Image: From a 35 mm Kodachrome of Pont du Mont Blanc on Earth Day, 1974. The end of the bridge runs into the old city of Geneva. La Seleve can be seen rising above the city in the distance. Only bicyclists and pedestrians are on bridge and a red-colored electric tram at far end of bridge. In warmer weather, colorful banners and flags were hung on the poles slanting over the bridge railings.

Image: All kinds of bikes were found on the bridge on Earth Day, 1974

Image: A lone taxi tries to negotiate a path through a disapproving crowd on Pont du Mont Blanc. The passengers were probably coming home from the airport. The lady inside appears to be smiling in good spirits.

If you got here from Therialt's Festival of Postcards, click here to return to the Festival.

LINKS and REFERENCES:

Look up "Rousseau" and "Mont Blanc" on Wikipedia.

For more information on "Festival of Postcards" see Evelyn Theriault's "A Canadian Family" Blog.

Russell Cave, Jackson Co, Alabama

If you had Russell ancestors and passed a place called Russell Cave, wouldn't you want to know what was inside the cave? I did. So, on my way to my brother-in-law's for Thanksgiving, I took a short side-trip off Interstate 24 between Chattanooga and Nashville, Tennessee, to travel just across the border into Alabama (Jackson County). It was early morning, sunny, and relatively warm for Fall. At the entrance to Russell Cave National Monument, I hauled out my tripod and took this picture. I was initially going to title this blog entry, "I feel a headache coming on". Actually, the spear which appears ready to pierce my scalp was an ancient improvement in the art of spear throwing. The Native American is using an "atlatl" to propel the spear with much more speed and accuracy than the old way of using solely arm power.

I took a short walk on a boardwalk behind the visitor center and arrived at the entrance to the cave. A good-sized creek ran right into and disappeared inside the cave. In the past, the creek would flood and eventually gouge out a larger cavity. The ceiling of the structure from time to time would split from the upper sandstone, causing a rockfall, which in turn created a raised floor in a large portion of the cave. Thus, Native Americans could live in the cave. It had natural air-conditioning and a ready water supply.

I noticed as I entered the cave that hundreds of large screws with plates had been driven into the ceiling to prevent any further rockfalls- or so the theory goes.

At the visiting center, I learned the unique feature of this cave is that various research groups had excavated artifacts which could demonstrate almost 10,000 years of habitation by Indians of several periods: Archaic, Woodland, and Mississippian.

Image (above): The boardwalk begins behind the visitor center and enters the cave.

In relatively modern times, the cave and surrounding land were first owned by Captain John Woods who received the land grant for his service in the Revolutionary War (RW). Woods was a Cherokee Indian which was the first time I heard Indians served in the RW. He also built a stone house on the land which is the oldest house still in use in Jackson County, Alabama. Evidence of Woods' residency in the area eventually faded. The land was then owned for a while by another RW veteran who in turn sold it to his brother-in-law, Colonel THOMAS RUSSELL whose descendants kept it in the family until 1928. The last private owner was Oscar Ridley who allowed excavation of the cave by local, amateur archaeologists. Recognizing the value of these discoveries, the Smithsonian Institute and National Geographic Societies (NGS) became heavily involved. The latter purchased the cave and presented it to the American People which was sealed by the creation of this National Monument by President Kennedy in 1961.

Browsing in the gift shop after my tour of the cave, I found a copy of a substantial genealogy of a Russell family by Walter A. Russell. The park ranger told me that Walter often gives genealogy seminars at the center. Search the title at Amazondotcom and you will find the first 5 pages of the book including the statement, "... first progenitor of this lineage was Matthew Russell who was Scotch-Irish ... born around 1735." You can also view the Index with 7 pages of Russell surnames. I doubt if Matthews family lived in the cave, and the same goes for my Russell family- who didn't arrive in America until 1881.

However, there are some connections to my "Life's Journey".

1. The Russell Cave visitor center was dedicated to former NGS chairman, Gilbert H. Grosvenor, whose former home was in my "home" town of Bethesda, MD.

2. Matthew Russell, the progenitor, once resided in Mechlenburg Co, NC, and York Co, SC, near Revolutionary War sites, Kings Mountain and Cowpens, all located near my current residence.

3. Another book available in the visitor center, was "Selu, Seeking the Corn-Mother's Wisdom" by former Tennessean poet laureate, Marilou Awiakta. She once inspired me to write about where I came from at an Appalachian Writer's workshop at Radford University. Search Amazon book store.

REFERENCES AND LINKS:

National Park Service web site for Russell cave: www.nps.gov/ruca