General James Clinton & I

I have said it before that my genealogical journey has always been quite serendipitous in nature.  Good things and wonderful people have just seemed to cross my path time and again.  With it, though, comes a great amount of weird coincidences that I could never have expected or anticipated.  Here is one of those “strange incidences” that happened as of late…

I am a member of the DAR and my patriot is John Wickham.  I’ve written about him before but just to recap for new readers, John was in the French & Indian War and was recruited as a drill sergeant during the American Revolution to teach others how to fight/shoot.  John was from Rhode Island originally, moved to New York when he was 8 (and where he served during the Revolution), and then moved to Ohio after the war, where he applied for a pension right before he died at 101 years old.

I grew up in Ohio, nearly two hours from where John is buried in Noble County but I never knew about John until I moved to New York and my family tree exploded.  Here’s part of where it gets kinda neat – I didn’t just move to New York.  I moved right smack into the thick of where my grandfather served.  My husband is stationed at the United States Military Academy at West Point which is 7 minutes and one left hand turn from Fort Montgomery where my grandfather served before it was taken by the British.  I was able to go to Fort Montgomery and walk the very ground that John did and stand on the same cliff overlooking the Hudson River that he did.  It was surreal, to be sure!

In John’s pension file, he names those captains and generals he served under.  He served under Arnold at Bemis Heights, which is super cool since I have a Woodhull family connection and if you watch the show TURN, you’ll know I’m so excited by that!  Then, I somehow magically forgot who John served under.  It was one of those details that just slipped my mind.  (Probably because I read General Arnold and THAT’S what sticks out.)  I got into the DAR some two years ago and then all those little details just faded into the back of my mind…. until today.

And here’s where it gets kinda funky monkey… a few months ago, my friend Colleen and I cleaned the headstones and monuments of the Clinton plot at Woodlawn Cemetery in New Windsor, NY for the town.  We needed practice for our headstone cleaning business and they needed a nice, clean showpiece for the cemetery since they’d just taken it over in recent months and this would prime the monuments for its grand re-opening this next spring.

You may be wondering by now why this is so awesomely weird for me?  It’s because of whose plot we cleaned – General James Clinton and his family. My grandfather John served under General Clinton at Fort Montgomery before it was taken by the British and it was actually General Clinton that gave him his discharge papers. (Before you history buffs point out there were, in fact, TWO Clinton generals on the American side at Forts Montgomery and Clinton -and there were- John specifically said James Clinton, not George, in his pension papers.)  My grandfather served him and now I have served him in my own way, too.  How round robin is that?  The coincidence is just astounding to me and made those two days polishing and scrubbing those stones even more special and meaningful.

Anyways, I thought perhaps you all might enjoy seeing the pictures of the stones being cleaned.  They were in wretched shape and covered with lichen.  They are flat table-top stones and they are weathering terribly to where some of them are just practically illegible, James’ probably being the worst and then Mary Little Gray, one of his wives.   The stone of James’ sister, Catherine Clinton McClaughry , was so thick with lichen, we didn’t know there was a poem underneath the edges of the stone until it had been cleaned completely off.  It was amazing to see the before and after on these stones and I feel completely honored to have been a part of extending James Clinton’s legacy by caring for his monument properly.  I like to think my grandfather John would have been proud.


Questioning Your DNA

I have been working on our Stewart/Steward family line for eons… truly …and I cannot break through this brick wall that ends with John Steward and his wife Minerva. You can see my pedigree over there to the right.

Now I’m not a DNA pro by any means but I get the basics.  I have had my DNA (my mom’s and that of my children) floating around on Ancestry, 23andMe, and GEDMatch with positively ZERO hits on our Stewart line.  Three years plus and no hits anywhere, no DNA circles, not even the generic email from a possible relative with a match looking for info… just NOTHING.  So, recently, I decided to go through our DNA circles again to take a closer look.  I have 101 circles with NO Stewart matches and my mom has 25 circles with NO Stewart matches either.  (My circles are much larger because my dad’s KY line is huge.)  Puzzled… I began to dig deeper into our tree.

Clark Children Reunite After 42 Years

Charles Lloyd Moore

A while ago, I wrote about my husband’s great-grandfather’s story about being sold at the Ohio State Fair and how he changed his name from Clark to Moore.  A Clark relative reached out to us recently on Ancestry to find out more information because we had so many matching names in our trees.  She was a grand-daughter to Cecil Benjamin Clark, brother to my husband’s great-grandfather, Charles Lloyd Moore.  I sent her a packet of papers and pictures along with giving her links to this blog.  However, in giving her links to here, I realized that I hadn’t updated my blog with the discoveries I’d make in the Clark/Moore line.  So here we are with an update to tell their tale…

The Long Sought After Picture of Colonel Jesse Woodhull

Colonel Jesse Woodhull. Image courtesy of the Chester Historical Society.

About two months ago, I stopped out at the Cemetery of the Highlands to visit the grave of Colonel Jesse Woodhull, my 1st cousin 9x removed, and was really just there to check on the headstones of his family following our winter weather.   But while I was standing there, I had a “conversation” with Jesse that included telling him that he was going to help me tell the story of his life, and that of his brother, Ebenezer Woodhull.  If you’re not a long time reader of my blog, I have been the sole caretaker of Ebenezer’s grave yard in Blooming Grove for many years now as it was all but abandoned since 1881.  (You can read more about that here if you’d like.

A Glimpse into 1930

Glenn & Rosa (Jones) Stewart with their son Glenn “Archie” Jr. and his daughter, Lisa.

Last year, I went home to Ohio to visit for my grand-baby’s first birthday and while at my mom’s, we were going through her photo album and behind a big 8×10 picture, there was this letter hidden.  I wrote about it before when talking about how this letter helped me learn more about the mysterious life of my great-uncle Dale.  From the hint in this letter, I was able to find his mug shot in the Montana State Prison.

The letter was written November 28, 1930 and was from my great-grandfather Glenn Archer Stewart, Sr. in Pickaway County, Ohio, to his uncle Asbury Archer in Noble County, Ohio.  If you don’t know the story of the Glenn and Dale Stewart (and you can read here if you’d like), but quickly I will say that their dad murdered their mom in 1914 and Asbury was not allowed to raise them, being a single man.  The boys were placed in the children’s home system and moved around several times.  Glenn eventually made his way to Pickaway County, I think to work on the farm of Lewis Edward Jones’ farm, where he met Rosa Jones.  They married May 6, 1927 and their first child, Glenn “Archie” Stewart, was born shortly thereafter November 13, 1927.  (You do the math! *wink*)  Their second child, Rose Mary Stewart, was born October 1, 1930 and this letter was written when she was nearly two months old.

From the Circleville Herald, 14 July 1945.

Recently, I went back and re-read this letter and this glimpse into my great-grandparent’s life in 1930 was stunning and revealing to say the least.  I had heard that their relationship was difficult and that Glenn was hard to deal with.  His son, my grandpa Archie, did not particularly care for his dad and spent much of his time at the Jones’ farm with his maternal grandparents.  I had previously found a scandalous newspaper article from July 1945 where my great-grandma Rosa filed for divorce while Glenn was overseas, calling him and his “lady” out for a supposed affair.  When I asked my great-aunt Rosie (Glenn and Rosa’s daughter) about it, she had no knowledge of this affair nor the divorce filing, and she was actually quite defensive about it until I showed her the article.  I’m sure it wasn’t a pleasant thing to read.  This letter, however, reaffirmed the marriage was strained to the point HE thought about leaving in 1930, way before she ever filed for divorce.  They stayed together but not happily as Glenn ended up in a mental health facility and later shot himself in June 1954.  Dale, his brother, killed himself in Los Angeles in a mental facility by eating poisonous ant paste.

Besides describing family matters, this letter also was an interesting peek into what life was like in 1930 Pickaway County, Ohio, and how the people were struggling with their farms, their finances, and to find work/ways to provide for their families.

 

November 28, 1930
Duvall, Ohio

 

Dear Uncle,
Received your letter a couple of days ago and was glad to hear from you.  It has been a good bit since I heard from you.  Well, we have been having some awful weather this week.  Snowed and has been down below zero for the past three nights.  I certainly hate to see it get bad weather because I don’t know what we will do down here.

 

The corn is all husked down here and we have been trying to make a living by trapping and hunting and it is going to be a darn slim one too.  Fur is not worth half as much this year as it has been.  Rats are only worth 50 cents apiece.  Skunks $1.25 and coons $4.00.  We used to get $1.50 to $2.00 for rats and $9.00 for coon.  We can’t catch them now because the streams are all frozen over.

 

 Boy, I’ll tell you I don’t know what we will do till spring.  I never seen a time in my life that a fellow could not find something to do in the country.

 

I had a field of corn to husk and got done last Thursday.  So I started out to find something else to do, and everybody that is not done husking will be done in a couple of days.  Most of them shredded their corn because the did not have any hay.

 

About the only thing that we can do now is to make wood and a fellow cannot eat that.  I have never been able to buy a load of coal this fall, just 3 or 4 bushels at a time.  A fellow has to have a little coal to burn with the wood.

 

Rosa wanted to read your letter tonight and she said that you need never worry about who is going to take care of you when you get older, that you was welcome to come and live with us when ever you wanted to.  Our baby girl sure is getting nice.  She is getting old enough to laugh now and she is sure cute.  I don’t know what we would do without her.

 

I don’t know just how to say it, but there was a time last summer that I had a notion to pull out and leave but since the baby has come it seemed to make us both realize more that it was not right to separate. 

 

Yes, Azza, I get a letter from Dale every week.  His address is Deer Lodge, Montana, Box 7.  I wish you would drop him a line or two.  I know he would be glad to hear from you.

 

Azza, I would like awful well to have a fat hog to butcher this year because we are out of lard and meat and have not got the money to buy more.  My father-in-law is going to butcher in a few days and I could get a nice hog off him for $20.00 if I had the money.  I have been to buy our meat every other year and had enough lard to do till next butchering but I have not got the money now.  I hate to ask you for it because you have been so good to me, but I tell you Azza, I have not got a thing to do, and not only me but nearly every body else down here.  I told Ed I would see if I could get money enough to buy one and then kill it when he butchered.  Well, it is nearly mail time so I’ll have to close.  Write soon.

 

Your nephew,

Glenn