Surname Saturday: Purchase
The Purchase surname originated as an occupational name, although it’s uncertain when the name began to be used as a surname and passed down to succeeding generations. According to New Dictionary of American Family Names, the name referred to “one who acted as a messenger or courier; a nickname for one who obtained the booty or gain; one who pursued another.”
House of Names indicates this surname is “a classic example of an English polygenetic surname, which is a surname that was developed in a number of different locations and adopted by various families independently. That is what I came across when researching this week’s Tombstone Tuesday article (read it here) on Philander Purchase.
The spelling variations encountered in my research for that article proved to be a bit overwhelming to trace (at least in the limited amount of time normally assigned to research for an article). Some of the known spelling variations of this surname include: Purchas, Purchass, Purches, Purchis, Purkiss, Purkess, Purkis, Purkeys, Purkys, Purkes … and I’m sure more. Possibly all related, but confusing for family researchers.
Aquila Purchase
One of the first people bearing this surname to make, or should I say attempt to make, the trek across the Atlantic to New England was Aquila Purchase. Aquila was born in 1589 to parents Oliver and Thomazine Purchase in Sommerset, England. In 1625 he was appointed as master of the Trinity School in Dorchester, a position he held until he departed for New England in 1632.
Aquila, his wife Ann and their children (it appears Ann was with child) left Weymouth, England, headed for Dorchester, Massachusetts. However, Aquila never made it to the shores of America. He died at sea but his family survived; his son John appears to have been born in 1633 after Ann arrived with her children.
Despite the fact that Aquila never lived in America, he still had an impact on its history. Interestingly, from his line came the thirteen President of the United States, Millard Fillmore:
Henry Squire (c1563-bef1649); Somersetshire, England, had a daughter:
Ann Squire (1591-1662), who married Aquila Purchase (c1588-c1633), in 1614, and had a daughter:
Abigail Purchase (1624-1675), who married Sampson Shore (c1615-c1679), in c1639, and had a son:
Jonathan Shore (1649-1724), who married Priscilla Hathorn (b. 1649), in 1669, and had daughter:
Phoebe Shore (1674-1717). who married Nehemiah Millard (1668-1751), in 1697, and had a son:
Robert Millard (1702-c1784), who married Hannah Eddy (c1704-1739), in 1726, and had a son:
Abiathar Millard (1744-c1811), who married Tabatha Hopkins (b. 1745), in 1761, and had a daughter:
Phoebe Millard (1780-1831), who married Nathaniel Fillmore, Jr. (1771-1863), in 1796, and had a son:
Millard Fillmore (1800-1874), 13th President of the United States.
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Ghost Town Wednesday: Graham, New Mexico
Gold and silver were discovered in the late 1880’s in what is now southwest Catron County, New Mexico. Preferably, in order to contain costs, gold and silver needed to be processed as close as possible to the mines. However, the problem in this particular area was that Whitewater Canyon, where the majority of the mines like the Confidence, Blackbird, Bluebird and Redbird were located, was too narrow.
The next best location was at the mouth of the canyon and in 1893 John T. Graham arrived to build the mill, and in so doing had the mill town that would spring up named after himself. The mill location, however, had its own set of challenges since there wasn’t enough water to run the steam generators. Nor was there sufficient water to supply the town of around two hundred residents.
This problem necessitated the construction of a four-inch water pipe which ran from the high mountain waters down to Graham, a distance of about three miles. To prevent freezing, the pipe was packed around with sawdust and encased in wood. By 1897, mining operations had increased substantially enough to require a larger generator, which in turn required a larger water supply.
An eighteen-inch pipe was constructed parallel to the original four-inch line, and, at least for that period of history, considered to be quite an engineering feat. In order to provide adequate support for the pipes, holes had to be drilled into the canyon walls to ensure the pipes were braced sufficiently to remain in place. At various places, the pipeline rose some twenty feet above the canyon floor.
The pipeline, of course, required monitoring and repair, which meant walking along the eighteen-inch pipeline – referred to as the “catwalk”. After all the extraordinary efforts and engineering feats undertaken to provide sufficient water for the mining operations, the mill never proved to much of a success. The post office, established in 1895, closed in 1904. After the mill closed for good in 1913, the town faded away.
Still, the short-lived town of Graham and the surrounding area had its share of famous (or infamous) folks. Whitewater Canyon was a favorite hideout for Butch Cassidy and his Wild Bunch, as well as Apache warriors like Geronimo. William Henry McCarty, Jr., a.k.a. “Billy the Kid,” may have passed through the area at some point – William Antrim, his step-father, was the town’s blacksmith.
Today all that remains of the town of Graham are a few remnants of the mill. The Catwalk, however, has become a national scenic trail. Long after the town closed down and the pipelines had fallen in disrepair, the Civilian Conservation Corps, a public works project enacted by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in response to The Great Depression, rebuilt the catwalk. Amazingly, some of the original eighteen-inch pipes provide support for the present structure. The Catwalk today is approximately a 1.1 mile hike from trail head to the end (2.2 miles out and back).
Note: According to this Forest Service web page, the area is undergoing some restoration, perhaps as a result of recent flooding in the area.
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Military History Monday: Quattlebaum Military Service
Today’s Military History article continues the story of the Quattelbaum (Quattlebaum) family whose American progenitor, Petter Quattelbaum, arrived in America in October of 1736 (see this past week’s Surname Saturday article here).
Johannes Quattelbaum, son of Petter, had seen action in the Revolutionary War, serving under Brigadier General Francis Marion, a.k.a. the “Swamp Fox”. His son John was born on December 1, 1774 in the Saxe Gotha Township, two miles north of present day Leesville, South Carolina. After the war Johannes moved his family to a Dutch settlement on Sleepy Creek, but John returned to his birthplace and married Sarah Weaver on August 5, 1798.
John and Sarah Quattelbaum had five children together before Sarah died on January 6, 1809. John was left with five young children to raise and the following year he married Metee Burkett, daughter of a fellow soldier who had fought alongside his father Johannes. He and Metee had four sons.
Sometime in 1809 John moved his family to a place on Lightwood Creek, about four miles south of Leesville, where he would establish mill operations: a flour mill, grist mill and lumber mill. There he gained a reputation as an industrialist who also manufactured cotton gins and rifles. The development of the last two industries were especially well-timed and profitable – demand for the cotton gin was high and the Quattelbaum rifle was well-known and sold throughout the country.
After receiving a commission as captain of his local militia company, John served during the War of 1812 with Lieutenant Colonel Rowe and the South Carolina Militia in defense of Charleston.
According to family history (Quattlebaum: A Palatine Family in South Carolina), “Captain Quattelbaum was a man of forceful character. He had positive opinions and expressed them readily. His integrity and devotion to duty gained him the respect of all who knew him.” John had been educated entirely in the German language, but would later acquire the English language.
On December 9, 1840, Metee died and near the end of his life John lost his eyesight and lived with his son, General Paul Quattlebaum, until he died there on November 25, 1853.
Brigadier General Paul Quattlebaum
Paul Quattlebaum was born on July 8, 1812 and at the age of three the family moved to the location where the mill operations were established. Perhaps a reflection of his father’s integrity and influence, Paul distinguished himself early in both military and public service. At the age of eighteen he was elected captain of his militia company. On September 3, 1835 he married Sarah Caroline Jones, widow of Samuel Prothro, and the daughter of Colonel Mathias Jones.
Just a short time after his marriage, the governor requested that Paul raise a company of volunteers to fight the Seminole Indians in Florida; he was again elected captain of the company. The following year his company was mustered into federal service in Georgia as part of the First Regiment, Infantry, South Carolina Volunteers. Their campaign in Florida was successful and upon his return home, Captain Quattlebaum was promoted to Colonel of the 15th Regiment, 3rd Brigade, South Carolina Militia in 1839.
When his boyhood friend, Brigadier General James H. Hammond, ascended to the governorship of South Carolina, Colonel Quattlebaum replaced him and was promoted to Brigadier General in 1843 and served in that position for ten years. Paul Quattlebaum was a busy man – not only serving in the military but in public service to his state and community.
Paul was many things it seems, including industrialist, following in John’s footsteps. He established a successful lumber mill operation – installing perhaps the first water-turbine wheel and the first circular saw to be used in the state. He improved upon John’s flour mill and Quattlebaum flour was marketed throughout South Carolina. The mill would also later furnish flour for the Confederate Army.
The Quattlebaum rifle continued to be manufactured as well, its reputation maintained by Paul’s leadership and oversight. It is believed that General Quattlebaum introduced the first percussion-cap locks in the state, mounted by on gun barrels made in his factory. Flint and steel locks were made obsolete by this innovation and the rifles were used by the Confederate Army.
From 1840 to 1843 he served as a state representative and from 1848 to 1851 as a state senator. In the 1830’s he had been a member of the short-lived Nullifier Party which supported states rights to the extent they believed that federal laws could be ignored (nullified). In line with advocating states rights, Paul later became a secessionist – as both a member of the Secession Convention and signing the Ordinance of Secession.
Paul Quattlebaum, however, would be precluded from field service during the Civil War due to a back injury and his advanced age. He did provide counsel to the Confederate Army and took a small part in defending the area around Columbia during the war. His home, as a signer of the Ordinance of Secession, was targeted for destruction by fire. The major in charge of carrying out the attack, personally set fire throughout the house while his men ransacked. However, the family’s slaves were able to help the family save the house.
Paul Quattlebaum died at the age of seventy-eight years in 1890. Two of his sons, Paul Jones and Theodore Adolphus served during the Civil War, both noted for distinguished and historic service.
Theodore Adolphus Quattlebaum
Theodore was born on May 11, 1842 and on January 1, 1860 entered the Arsenal Academy in Columbia to begin his military career. By the following January, it appears he had transferred to the Citadel in Charleston because he was on hand for what came to be considered the first shots of the Civil War (although it didn’t officially start for another three months).
South Carolina had just seceded a few weeks before and on January 9, 1861 Citadel cadets fired upon the Star of the West, a civilian steamship which had been hired by the federal government to deliver supplies to Fort Sumter. While the ship didn’t suffer serious damage, the captain decided it best to abandon the mission.
Theodore left the Citadel and enlisted as a private in Company K, 20th Regiment, Infantry under the command of Captain W.D.M. Harmon on December 31, 1861. By April of 1862 he had been promoted to second sergeant and steadily moved up the ranks until his promotion to lieutenant in 1864. Company K was engaged in fighting around Averysborough, North Carolina in 1865 at the Battle of Smith’s Farm.
Although the battle ended as a draw, Lieutenant Theodore Adolphus Quattlebaum was mortally wounded on March 16, 1865 and died the following day. He had been fighting a rear guard action and covering the retreat of General Joseph E. Johnson when he was felled. His body was buried in a marked grave by his body servant and later his remains were transferred to the family cemetery in Lexington County, South Carolina.
Several other members of the Quattlebaum family served during the Civil War. In fact, according to Ancestry.com, there were forty-seven Quattlebaums who served the Confederacy – none in the Union Army, however. This family, with German roots, was Southern to the core.
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Surname Saturday: Quattelbaum
For the first two generations after arriving in America, this German family from the Palatinate region, spelled their surname “Quattelbaum” but eventually settled on a slightly different spelling as “Quattlebaum”.
The second part of the name, “baum”, means “tree” in German. There are a couple of theories as to what “quattel” means, however. One theory is that “quattele” may have meant “quail” and the other that perhaps quattel was a fruit of the apple or quince family. In his family history, Quattlebaum: A Palatine Family in South Carolina, Paul Quattlebaum thought perhaps the fruit might have been more plum-like.
The quattel was thought to have been a “slow-growing tree, so slow-growing that the planter seldom lived to reap the fruit from the tree he planted. Hence, a man was said to ‘plant his quattels’ when he did something for posterity.”
Petter Quattelbaum
It is believed that all Americans who bear the Quattlebaum surname descend from Petter Quattelbaum (notice the different spelling), who arrived at the Port of Philadelphia on October 19, 1736. Of those who arrived that day from the Palatinate, Petter Quattelbaum was the second name on the list of those who not only swore an oath of allegiance to their new country, but also renounced citizenship of their former homeland.
Petter’s wife, Anna Barbara, three daughters (Gertraud, Maria Catherina and Anna Barbara), possibly son Mathias and his mother Maria made the journey with him. A pattern had developed as families from the Palatinate region began to immigrate to America, where they settled in New York, Pennsylvania or the Carolinas. Later generations migrated southward from Pennsylvania just before the Revolutionary War to Virginia and North or South Carolina. From the Carolinas those same people groups would venture farther out into new frontiers, first Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana, and then on to places like Texas and Arkansas or the far west.
In 1739 Petter’s name appeared on a petition for a road in Berks County and in 1742 his son Johannes was born in Williams Township (now Lehigh County). At some point, however, Petter and his family returned to Philadelphia, Paul Quattlebaum surmising that many Palatines were skilled artisans and that perhaps an urban vs. a frontier environment was more profitable for him and his family.
About ten years after the family’s arrival in America, Petter’s daughters began to marry, but before daughter Anna Barbara was married in 1749, Petter died on January 14, 1748. His death record was the second one to be entered into the Record Book of the First Reformed Church of Philadelphia. At the time of his death, he left behind Anna Barbara his wife and nine children. One month following his death the youngest child, two-year old Johanna, also died.
According to Paul Quattlebaum, her record of death was the last of that family’s to appear in Pennsylvania as the family headed south to Virginia. By the time of the Revolutionary War three of his sons, Mathias, Johannes and Peter, were living in what was called the Dutch Fork part of South Carolina, an area populated with German-Swiss families.
Johannes Quattelbaum
Johannes settled in an area south of where Mathias and Peter had remained. His first son, John, was born on December 1, 1774. In March of 1778 the South Carolina General Assembly adopted a new constitution and Johannes’ name appeared on the jury list for Saxe Gotha, the township where he lived in the Orangeburg District.
At that point in time, however, there had been little or no fighting in that part of the state. As the war escalated, it became clear that soldiers were needed to defend their way of life and Johannes joined the fight, serving under Brigadier General Francis Marion, a.k.a. the “Swamp Fox”. Another soldier he served with, Thomas Burkett, would later become son John’s father-in-law when he married Meta Burkett.
Following the war, Johannes purchased land and was part of a Dutch settlement on Sleepy Creek and Little Stevens Creek. After his first wife died, he remarried at some point and perhaps had two more boys and two girls. While it is unclear exactly when he died, he deeded land to his son George on February 16, 1813. Since his name didn’t appear on the 1820 census, Johannes Quattelbaum died sometime between 1813 and 1820.
The next three generations following Johannes Quattelbaum – that of his son John, grandson Paul and great grandson Theodore Adolphus – were highlighted with distinguished military service. I’ll write more on the lives of these three men and their military service, spanning from the War of 1812 through the Civil War, in Monday’s Military History article.
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Feisty Females: Ida Bell Wells-Barnett
Ida Bell Wells was the oldest daughter of James and Lizzie Wells, born in slavery (temporarily) on July 16, 1862 in Holly Springs, Mississippi. Less than six months later, all slaves were set free by Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation. James was a master carpenter and Lizzie, a deeply religious woman, was a cook for the Bolling family.
Following the Civil War, Ida’s parents were both active in the Republican Party and James, as a member of the Freedmen’s Aid Society, helped to found Shaw University (now known as Rust College), a black liberal arts school in Holly Springs. Ida had been well-educated, but while away during the summer of 1878, her life changed drastically when a yellow fever epidemic swept through Holly Springs.
James and Lizzie and one of Ida’s siblings died, leaving Ida to care for her remaining siblings. She dropped out of school but eventually found a job as a teacher to support her family. In 1882 she and three of her youngest siblings moved to Memphis, Tennessee to be near other family members. Ida taught school and also continued her education at Fisk University.
Following in her father’s footsteps, Ida became an activist for civil rights, as well as a teacher, journalist, crusader against lynching and a suffragist. In 1884 an incident occurred on a Chesapeake & Ohio train to Nashville when she was asked by the conductor to give up her first-class seat for a white man. The practice of segregation had been outlawed with the 1875 Civil Rights Act, but railroads often skirted the law and segregated their passengers.
On principle, Ida refused to move to the so-called “Jim Crow” car – this incident occurring over seventy years before Rosa Parks refused to give up her bus seat. As the conductor attempted to forcibly remove her from her seat, Ida bit the man’s hand. She related the details in her autobiography:
I refused, saying that the forward car [closest to the locomotive] was a smoker, and as I was in the ladies’ car, I proposed to stay. . . [The conductor] tried to drag me out of the seat, but the moment he caught hold of my arm I fastened my teeth in the back of his hand. I had braced my feet against the seat in front and was holding to the back, and as he had already been badly bitten he didn’t try it again by himself. He went forward and got the baggageman and another man to help him and of course they succeeded in dragging me out.
Upon her return to Memphis, Ida employed an attorney, sued the railroad and won a $500 settlement – only to have it overturned by the Tennessee Supreme Court. Ida began to write articles which were published in various black newspapers and periodicals. She would later become the owner of the Memphis Free Speech and Headlight, a larger platform from which to advance the causes she was fighting for.
She openly criticized the Memphis school system for its lack of funding for poor schools and was dismissed by the Memphis school board in 1891. Thereafter, she became a full-time journalist and activist. In 1892 three black men had opened a grocery store in Memphis and became successful enough to begin drawing customers away from another store (white-owned) in the neighborhood. After a confrontation with whites, the three men were arrested and taken to jail, only to have the jail overrun and the three African-Americans lynched.
Ida’s efforts to outlaw lynching were met with anger by white Tennesseans, and the offices of the Free Speech were destroyed. Yet, Ida was undeterred by their threats and continued to campaign for anti-lynching laws (which were never passed). Ida had been traveling in the South researching the practice of lynching when her newspaper offices were destroyed. She received death threats warning her against returning to Memphis, but continued to travel and lecture, both at home and abroad, with her anti-lynching message.
In 1898 she led a protest in Washington, D.C., calling on President William McKinley to act. That same year she also married attorney Ferdinand L. Barnett of Chicago. They had four children together, but Ida struggled to balance her home and activist, eventually forcing her to curtail her travel and speaking schedules.
Even though she was never able to compel legislators to enact anti-lynching laws, she fought on. In 1896 she founded the National Association of Colored Women and in 1909 helped to found the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). She and Mary Church Terrell, another civil rights activist, were the only two women to sign the petition which led to the organization’s founding.
She joined the national suffragist movement, integrating it by refusing to remain at the rear of a 1913 march in Washington, D.C. In 1928 Ida began writing her autobiography, Crusade for Justice, but never finished the book – the book ended in the middle of a sentence and her daughter later edited and published it posthumously.
In her final year Ida was running for the Illinois State Senate and kept up a demanding and busy schedule. Even though she had been a tireless crusader most of her life, some of the last pages she wrote in her journal were filled with doubts about what she had accomplished during her lifetime: “All at once the realization came to me that I had nothing to show for all those years of toil and labor.”
Ida Bell Wells-Barnett died on March 25, 1931 of kidney failure, active until her last days. She had once said: “I felt that one had better die fighting against injustice than to die like a dog or a rat in a trap.”
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Ghost Town Wednesday: Stiles, Texas
“It isn’t likely that a tourist will ever see the old Reagan County Courthouse at Stiles unless he is looking for it, or just flat lost.” That’s what a contributor on the Ghost Towns web site had to say about Stiles, Texas. It’s a bit off the beaten track these days.
Stiles had a storied history dating back to the mid-seventeenth century when Captains Diego del Castillo and Hernán Martin were sent out to explore an area which would later be Texas. Castillo and Martin passed through the area and camped a night or two near where Stiles was eventually located near the Centralia Draw. A short-cut to the Santa Fe Trail would later be carved out nearby as well.
Around 1890 Gordon Stiles and Gerome W. Shields came to the area and were later joined by P.H. Coates, a rancher who had already begun building a sheep ranch in the 1880’s. In 1894, Stiles submitted an application for a post office which was accepted. By the early 1900’s the area had increased enough in population to warrant a split from Tom Green County.
In 1903, by a vote of 40-1, Reagan County was formed. Since no other village or town of any size existed, Stiles was the natural choice as county seat and the location of the county courthouse. An amusing story about the county’s founding was related in a 1964 article by Joe Mosby in the Big Springs Daily Herald:
The move for forming the new county had a brush with disaster, though. Texas statutes required that a petition for a new county had to be submitted bearing names of a percentage of residents of the area. Promoters of the petition for Reagan’s formation fell two names short, and there was despair for a moment. But at the last minute the signatures reading “John Donohu” and “Bill Donohu” were added. No one said much, but John and Bill were the names of a pair of outstanding mules that had labored hard in the early days at Stiles. “Donohu” had a mighty similar sound to “Do Know Who” so the settlers later chuckled.
Before a permanent courthouse was built, Sheriff Henry Japson would chain prisoners to a hitchrack. As Mosby related in his article, “[O]ne later prominent citizen of the area vows that the end of his drinking days came right there at that hitchrack.” When the bond election to fund the courthouse and jail was held in August of 1903, the results were the same as the election to form the county – 40-1.
A frame building replaced the temporary structure, but by 1911 an even more substantial two-story structure was built. Gordon Stiles owned the general store where the many of the town’s activities were centered, so the town was named after him. The land where the permanent courthouse was built had been donated by Stiles and Shields.
The new courthouse, constructed of stone quarried from the Centralia Draw, was said to have been the nicest in West Texas at the time, perhaps valued as much as $25,000. By this time, there were also around one hundred homes in Stiles, along with a newspaper and telephone service. All Stiles needed to prosper and survive long-term would have been railway access.
In 1910 the Kansas City, Mexico and Orient Railroad wanted to run their line from San Angelo through Stiles to Fort Stockton and Toyahville. However, one of the largest landowners in Reagan County refused to grant access across his land. The rail line instead was located about twenty miles south near a big lake (said to be full of huge catfish and alligators). The result? The town of Big Lake was established in 1912 and by 1919 was approximately the same size as Stiles.
But, of course, Big Lake had a railroad and Stiles had lost out. For several years, Big Lake fought to become the new county seat. Their fate and that of Stiles seemed to have been sealed, however, when in 1923 the Santa Rita oil well just west of Big Lake brought more people to the area and a booming economy. The oil strike also greatly benefited the University of Texas – quite a bit of the land in Reagan county was owned by the school.
In 1925 the vote finally swung in favor of Big Lake (292-94) and Stiles began to decline. The abandoned courthouse served as a school, and a sometimes community center and dance hall for a time. Mosby reported in 1964 that the building served as storage for the county road department and residence for a county worker. It’s only governmental function at that time was its use as a voting precinct.
One tragic event marred the history of Stiles, however. Henry Japson had served as the county sheriff for years – in fact the only sheriff the county had ever employed – and was said to have been quite wealthy. He was a long-time friend of James Belcher, an English immigrant who had built a prosperous ranching operation in the area and was himself quite wealthy.
In 1964, in a retraction of sorts to Mosby’s January 26 article, James Belcher’s daughters stated that they believed a disagreement had arisen over the recent appointment of their father to represent the Drover Cattle Loan Company of Kansas City, a post which Henry Japson had previously held. According to the daughters, the two men had encountered one another in the county clerk’s office on February 19, 1918.
As Belcher stepped out into the hallway, shots were fired by Japson and Belcher fell dead. Sheriff Japson was said to have gone to his car, returned to his office, shut the door and then killed himself, or as one newspaper related it – he blew his brains out.
According to the Texas Escapes web site, someone tried to set the courthouse on fire in 1999. The building is now gutted and appears to be surrounded by a security fence. Historical markers have been placed near the courthouse and at the Stiles Cemetery. To reach the abandoned town site, head north on Highway 37 out of Big Lake and at 12.5 miles make a hard left turn. The courthouse will be on the south side of the highway.
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Mothers of Invention: Patsy O’Connell Sherman
Today’s “mother of invention” article features another “parent-friendly” product (last week it was disposable diapers). As you will see, she could also be characterized as a “feisty female”.
Patsy O’Connell Sherman was born on September 15, 1930 in Minneapolis, Minnesota to parents James and Edna O’Connell. During her high school years, Patsy took an aptitude test which showed her best career choice would that of housewife. In that day, how many young women do you think received that same recommendation? Patsy, however, refused to accept that result and demanded to take the boy’s aptitude test.
According to the Minnesota Science and Technology Hall of Fame, she wanted to attend college but certainly didn’t want to spend all that time and money educating herself only to become a housewife. The aptitude test for boys revealed a much different career path – she would be well-suited to be either a dentist or a scientist.
In 1952 Patsy graduated from Gustavus Adolphus College with a Bachelor of Science degree in chemistry and mathematics – and the first female attending the school to do so. As an example of how things have drastically changed, after graduating Patsy took a “temp job” at Minnesota-based 3M Corporation. She was contracted to assist in developing a new type of fuel line for jet aircraft through the use of fluorochemicals. The reason her job was considered temporary? At that time women hired to work in laboratories were considered temporary employees, assuming they would leave to get married and have a family.
In 1953 while working on the fuel line project, a lab assistant spilled some of the chemicals she had been experimenting with on her white canvas shoes. Attempts to clean off the spilled drops were unsuccessful, but she noticed that later the area where the chemicals had spilled were clean while other parts of her shoes where dirty.
She and fellow scientist Samuel Smith worked together and on April 13, 1971 received approval for United States Patent 3574791 for “invention of block and graft copolymers containing water-solvatable polar groups and fluoroaliphatic groups.” The fluorochemical polymer that Patsy and Samuel developed was marketed by 3M under the trademark name of Scotchgard™. Development of their invention presented another challenge for Patsy, however – at that time women weren’t allowed to be inside the textile mill where performance tests were conducted.
3M continued to develop the Scotchgard™ line of products and Patsy received sixteen other patents, sharing thirteen of them with Samuel Smith. Patsy was the first person to develop an “optical brightener” – something that gave detergent manufacturers the right to boast that clothes washed in their product would be “whiter than white.”
Patsy O’Connell married Hubert Sherman and had children, but she defied the “norm” and remained at 3M her entire career. By the time she retired in 1992, she had advanced through the ranks and was manager of technical development. She received several prestigious honors throughout her career and beyond, including induction into 3M’s Carlton Society (1974) which honors the company’s best scientists, the Minnesota Inventors Hall of Fame (1989) and the National Inventors Hall of Fame (2001).
Her husband died in 1996 and Patsy died on February 11, 2008. She apparently passed on her love of science to her two daughters – one is a chemist at 3M and the other a biologist. Patsy Sherman, the “accidental inventor” once remarked:
You can encourage and teach young people to observe, to ask questions when unexpected things happen. You can teach yourself not to ignore the unanticipated. Just think of all the great inventions that have come through serendipity, such as Alexander Fleming’s discovery of penicillin, and just noticing something no one conceived of before.
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Surname Saturday: Tinker
Most sources agree that today’s surname is of occupational origins, perhaps referring to someone who was a mender of pots and pans (“tinner”). The earliest individuals bearing a particular surname, especially an occupational one, were usually employed in that profession. The occupational name passed to succeeding generations even if the occupational tradition was not, especially after The Middle Ages.
The Internet Surname Database disagrees with the type of occupation, believing that the name did not necessarily refer to someone who mended pots and pans, but perhaps one who sold them – a peddler. Their premise is that the name derived from the Middle English word “tink(l)er” because “they made their approach known by tinking, by either ringing or making a tinkling noise.” Another reason for their theory is that during King Edward VI’s reign a law was passed basically outlawing peddling: “No person or persons commonly called Pedler, Tynker, or Pety Chapman, shall wander or go from one towne to another . . . and sell pynnes, poyntes laces, gloves, knyves, glasses, tapes, or any suche kynde of wares whatsoever or gather connye skynnes.”
A person bearing this surname was recorded in 1244 in “The History Of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital”, but one of the first instances may have been recorded in 1243, during King Henry III’s reign, in County Somerset for Robert le Tinker. The name may also have appeared as “Tinkler” at times – Edward Tinkler was listed in the Yorkshire Poll Tax of 1379.
Thomas Tinker
Thomas Tinker, thought to have been the first Tinker to come to America, was a passenger on the Mayflower and made the journey because of religious persecution. Before their arrival in the New World, forty-three Pilgrims signed their names on November 11, 1620 to a document called the “Mayflower Compact” which would govern the settlers. His name is also inscribed on the Plymouth Rock Monument.
The Compact had been signed while still on board the ship and the original intent was to disembark in the colony of Virginia, but storms forced them to take refuge in Cape Cod, Massachusetts, later named Plymouth after the port city in County Devonshire.
Thomas, his wife and son were likely English separatists who had resided in Leiden, Holland for a time to escape persecution. Thomas Tinker was a wood sawyer by trade. The names of his wife and son were not noted, recorded by William Bradford as “Thomas Tinker, and his wife and a sone.”
The journey was not an easy one and two deaths occurred before landing in Massachusetts. Sickness had already been rampant and upon arrival the Pilgrims were faced with even more challenges. Sadly, Thomas Tinker and his family all perished – “all dyed in the first sicknes” according to William Bradford. That would have occurred sometime between December 1620 and January 1621, but no specific date was recorded for the Tinker family’s death. They were likely buried in unmarked graves in an area referred to today s “Cole’s Hill”.
John Tinker
John Tinker was born in England around 1614 perhaps and his name began to appear in Boston records around 1635. It’s possible that John’s parents also immigrated around the same time. In 1639, while away in England, John wrote a letter to John Winthrop, governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony and enclosed a letter for his mother.
It appears that John Tinker was a well-educated man who had obtained a social position worthy of being addressed as either “Mr. Tinker” or “Master Tinker”. Records show that he was a merchant or trader as well as an attorney. John married Mrs. Sarah Barnes, a divorceé with two daughters (her husband had deserted his family), but it’s unclear when their marriage occurred.
Curiously, her divorce from William Barnes was not recorded until 1649 – and Sarah died in 1648. Following her death, the care of her daughter Mary was entrusted to Richard Cooke, a tailor in Boston and Alice was cared for by John Tinker. Some speculate that perhaps Cooke was Mary’s uncle, his wife being Sarah’s sister.
Sometime prior to December 9, 1649 John married his second wife Alice Smith (Alice signed her name “Alice Tinker” as witness to a land transaction on that date). In 1654 John was made a freeman and in 1655 was offered a sizable piece of property in Lancaster, Massachusetts in exchange for his governmental service as the town’s clerk. In 1659 he and his family removed to Pequot in the Connecticut Colony.
In Pequot John was again active in governmental as well as church affairs. Not long after his arrival the minister of the First Congregational Church in New London departed and John filled in until a new pastor arrived.
While serving as the Chief Magistrate of New London’s Court, John refused to prosecute someone who had spoken out against the King of England. Three of his fellow citizens took exception and charged him with treason, after which John charged them with defamation.
The suit went to the General Court at Hartford, but before it could be settled John Tinker died in October of 1682. The Court, however, regarded those charges as attempts to malign Tinker’s character and levied fines against his accusers. Out of respect for his reputation, the expenses of John Tinker’s illness and funeral were borne by the Colony of Connecticut.
One more Tinker story. In 1663, too long after John’s death, his wife Alice was found to be “with child.” Of course, this type of thing was not tolerated in the Puritan community and Alice had to appear before the General Court. Before the Court she shockingly admitted that the father of her child was Jeremiah Blinman, son of a former minister. Apparently, Alice only paid a fine – otherwise she could have been subjected to more stringent and obvious forms of punishment (think “scarlet letter”). Jeremiah also paid a fine in 1663.
As it turns out though, Jeremiah was not the father, but a married man by the name of Samuel Smith, a New London commissioner. Samuel deserted his wife and moved to Virginia before Alice’s baby was born – records and depositions seem to indicate that he admitted responsibility after his wife Rebecca filed for divorce on the grounds of desertion. The divorce was finalized in 1667.
Meanwhile, Alice Tinker had married another man, an attorney by the name of William Measure, in 1664. Alice, her five children by John Tinker and William Measure moved to Lyme, Connecticut soon after their marriage and remained there until their deaths.
What happened to the illegitimate child? Sarah Tinker was born in Lyme in 1664 (whether before or after Alice’s wedding to Measure is unclear). A record exists in the land records of Lyme listing Sarah as the “daughter of John Tinker”, entitling her to an allowance of land equal to that of any heir of the land’s original owner.
Sources:
Descendants of James Stanclift of Middletown, Connecticut and Allied Families, by Robert C. and Sherry [Smith] Stancliff
The Ancestors of Silas Tinker in America from 1637, by A.B. Tinker (1889)
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Ghost Town Wednesday: Navajoe, Oklahoma
Some historians credit Joseph S. “Buckskin Joe” Works, a Texas land promoter, with the founding of today’s ghost town around 1887. Another historian, Dr. Edward Everett Dale who was a research professor of history at the University of Oklahoma, wrote in 1946 that the town had its origins in 1886 when two brothers-in-law, W.H. Acers and H.P. Dale, built a general store in hopes of trading with the Indians and garnering business from cattle herders heading north to Kansas. At the time the men came to the area, it was actually part of Greer County, Texas.
Acers and Dale applied for the establishment of a post office under the name of “Navajo”, presumably named after the nearby Navajo Mountains. They got their post office which opened for business on September 1, 1887 under the name “Navajoe” – the extra “e” would differentiate it from the post office in Navajo, Arizona (this long before the days of postal zip codes).
A general store and a post office doesn’t necessarily a town make, but after Buckskin Joe arrived on July 4, 1887 he immediately launched efforts to formally lay out an eighty-acre town site. In return for his agreement to promote the town he was granted half of the lots. For those efforts, even though Acers and Dale had been there first, Works was considered the town’s “father”. Before the year was over a Baptist Church, the first Protestant church to be established in what would eventually become Oklahoma Indian Territory, was established. The following year the Navajoe School was opened.
On February 8, 1860, Governor Sam Houston had established Greer County, carved out of a portion of Young County, and named after John Alexander Greer, a veteran of the Texas War for Independence. The Civil War interrupted the formal establishment proceedings, however, but by July of 1886 the county had been organized with a government in place – this despite the fact that for years the United States government and the State of Texas had been embroiled in a dispute over boundaries.
A brief was submitted to the United States Supreme Court and on March 16, 1896 the Court ruled in favor of the United States government, concluding:
The territory east of the 100th meridian of longitude, west and south of the north fork of Red river, and north of a line following westward, as prescribed by the treaty of 1819 between the United States and Spain, along the south bank both of Red river and of the Prairie Down Town fork or south fork of Red river until such line meets the 100th meridian of longitude, which territory is sometimes called Greer county, constitutes no part of Texas, but is subject to the exclusive jurisdiction of the United States.
Translation: the border dispute was over whether the south fork or the north fork of the Red River was the natural boundary. Navajoe lay within the area bounded by the two forks.
Buckskin Joe had big plans for Navajoe. Upon arrival he built a home for his family, a half-dugout type which he claimed cost only thirty-five dollars to build. His next venture was a hotel for those coming to the territory in search of land. He also established a publication called “The Emigrant’s Guide” to circulate throughout Texas to attract settlers to “his” town. Despite his obvious enthusiasm in settling the area, Works remained there for only a year or two. By 1891 he was promoting the town of Comanche near Chickasaw territory.
Still, his efforts continued to pay off and others benefited from it. Acers and Dale prospered with their general store and settlers came despite the border dispute. The establishment of a post office had helped as well since before that time mail service came sporadically from Vernon, Texas. Afterwards the mail carrier rode down to the Red River and met the carrier from Vernon. The post office was located in a corner of the general store and was the meeting place every evening as the men gathered to await the posting of that day’s mail around eight o’clock. Dr. Edward Dale described the nightly ritual:
Here they sat on the counter, smoked cigarettes, chewed tobacco, and told yarns or indulged in practical jokes while waiting for “the mail to be put up”. Once this was accomplished and the window opened each and every one walked up to it and solemnly inquired: “Anything for me?” Few of them ever got any mail; most of them would have been utterly astonished if they ever had got any mail but asking for it was a part of a regular ritual and missing the experience was a near tragedy.
Other business establishments followed, including another general store just north of Acers and Dale’s store – not nearly as successful as theirs, however. Ed Clark opened a saloon down the street with a room for poker, seven-up and dominoes. It was, of course, a popular place for cowboys and “the town’s loafers” as Dr. Dale called them. However, the church-going folks objected (their house of worship was across the street) and eventually voted the town dry, with the exception of certain patent medicines.
W.H.H. Cranford was the town “druggist” who sold those patent medicines especially to the local Indians because under federal laws they were not to be sold liquor (so-called patent medicines were notoriously constituted of significant amounts of alcohol). Other stores were built, some busy and some not. Most had a porch where the men could sit around and “shoot the breeze”. The town’s doctor, H.C. Redding, had his office across the street from Cranford’s establishment. Redding disliked Cranford intensely since his “medicine” often deprived the doctor of patients and a fee.
Some cattle ranchers leased Indian lands to graze their cattle and had money to pay their hands fairly well, but most settlers in the area were very poor. The occasional odd job and perhaps a small crop of wheat yielded very little income. Some would spend their winters poisoning and skinning wolves or killing prairie chickens and quail.
The general population of the area may have been impoverished but that didn’t prevent them from enjoying what life they had – “characterized by abundant leisure” as Dr. Dale put it. Merchants were seldom too busy to gossip and “chew the fat” with their customers or whoever wandered into their stores. The town had its share of colorful characters as well.
One such character was Uncle Billy Warren, described by Dr. Dale as “a small, dried up old fellow who had been a scout for the United States Army in earlier days.” Warren received a pension of thirty dollars a month, which likely made him one of the most “wealthy” men in town. A gambler known as “eat ‘em up Jake” got his nickname allegedly following a hand of cards containing five aces. His opponent, of course, had something to say about that, but Jake crumpled the fifth card and ate it to avoid a confrontation.
Interestingly, another man by the last name of Harlan lived at the hotel. He appeared to be an educated man and when he had been drinking would use legal terms and refer to himself as “Judge”. As it turns out, he was the brother of Supreme Court Justice John Marshall Harlan who would deliver the Court’s opinion regarding the border dispute. A letter from Justice Harlan had arrived addressed to the postmaster inquiring about his brother’s welfare. The postmaster promptly replied that his brother “as highly respected when sober and well cared for when drunk so it was not necessary to feel any uneasiness about him.”
Despite its relaxed atmosphere the town had its share of excitement in the way of gunfights and a nearby battle with Kiowa Indians in 1891. Acers and Dale eventually sold out and left the area. The post office was moved to Cranford’s store and he increased his inventory, adding dry goods, clothing, notions – and a stock of coffins in an attic above the store.
Following the Court’s decision in 1896 the town went through a series of changes as people moved on and others came into the area then known as Oklahoma Territory. Some of the more “colorful” characters may have departed, but after new settlers came to farm the area acquired a little more sophistication, according to Dr. Dale. In the late 1890’s a brief mining boom occurred – for years it had been speculated that the Navajo Mountains held treasures of gold.
The boom turned out to be more of a bust but another wave of settlers would come in 1901 following the opening of Kiowa-Comanche lands to white settlement. One would think that would have improved the long-term viability of the town of Navajoe. However, it effected just the opposite. Many citizens of Navajoe secured some of that land and left the town. The new settlement areas would have railroad access.
As was the case many times over during that era, towns without a nearby railroad slowly died away. Navajoe was never a big town but had plenty of character as evidenced by its array of colorful and interesting citizens. As Dr. Dale phrased it, “[I]n the full vigor of youth it simply vanished from the earth.”
The area is now situated in Jackson County, Oklahoma. The Navajoe Cemetery remains, and according to Find-A-Grave has over seven hundred interments, some very recent. Dr. Dale lived in Navajoe for a time and remembered it this way (in reference to the cemetery):
Here lies the bodies of more than one may who died with his boots on before the blazing six gun of an opponent and others who died peacefully in bed. Here also lie all that is mortal of little children, and of the tired pioneer women who came west with their husbands seeking a home on the prairie only to find in its bosom that rest which they had so seldom known in life.
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Tombstone Tuesday: Lieutenant Nathaniel Bowditch (Part Two)
Nathaniel Bowditch arrived at Hilton Head and discovered the temperature to be 120 degrees in the shade! NOTE: If you missed Part One of this story, you can read it here. His regiment was ordered to Aquia Creek on August 25 and he was resigned to the inevitability that they would be engaged in battle. He asked his family to “not feel anxious if you do not hear from me for several days. I go forward with perfect confidence in my heavenly Father, and know that whatever he does is for the best.”
The regiment did indeed engage the enemy and on September 7 they lost thirty men (some taken prisoner). They were on the move constantly that month, although they missed the bloody engagement at Antietam. What Nathaniel didn’t mention to his family was that in truth his regiment was not doing well at all, primarily due to the condition of their horses, but in general morale was especially low as well.
Nevertheless, he had plenty to do and occasionally engaged the enemy. Late in September he was dispatched as a scout with a team of eight men. They came upon the enemy, numbering perhaps seventy-five to one hundred and decided to retreat. Even in retreat Nathaniel still lost three men, and was later upbraided by his commanding officer for not firing at the enemy. From that point he vowed to never let that happen again: “If I ever get another chance, no man shall accuse me of not doing my whole duty. I will do so, even if I fall in the attempt.”
October of 1862 began with a policing action involving Union soldiers who were drunk and disorderly and later court-martialed. It was not a pleasant task confronting his fellow soldiers. “This is the first time I have ever had any thing of the kind happen to me, and I hope it will be the last.” Meanwhile, conditions were worsening for the troops – rain, wind and inadequate covering made for a miserable existence. The horses continued to struggle and there had been no pay for over four months. To his family: “You will excuse me if have said any thing I ought not – I am alive and well.”
On October 30, Nathaniel was promoted to first lieutenant and by November 3 the regiment had arrived at Hagerstown, “penniless with their rags and tags”. By the end of the month his regiment had arrived at their winter headquarters near Falmouth, Virginia. Upon inspection, his regiment gained the approval of the commanding General for appearance and discipline.
In recognition of his skills and leadership, Nathaniel was promoted to Adjutant of his regiment on December 1, 1862. Although grateful for the appointment, he found some of his duties “irksome” enough to consider resigning. His family, as always, encouraged him to remain in his new position. His mother made remarks that proved to be the deciding factor: “There’s no such word as fail . . . ‘what man has done, man can do,’ is another homely phrase, but a good one to think of.”
Nearing the end of January, 1863 Nathaniel had received orders from General Burnside that his regiment would be advancing to Fredericksburg. He realized the mission would be dangerous, and in a letter to his mother, prepares his family for the possibility they may never see him again:
My Darling Mother,
To-morrow morning we leave, and shall probably have some hard work; for we are going to cross the river. I have just received an order from General Burnside, which certainly looks like it. I will give you a copy of it . . . I send this order that you may see what is expected of us. This may be the last letter you will receive from me. If so, you must know that I have always tried to do my duty to the best of my ability, although it has been at times hard work to please everybody. . . I must now bid you good-by, with love to all my friends and relations.
In early February his regiment was sent on an expedition to destroy a bridge over the Rappahannock River, undertaken in harsh weather – “It was one of the hardest times we have ever had.” February continued to bring even harsher weather and by the 22nd (Washington’s birthday) he was writing about the “ignoramuses of the North demanding an onward movement while the snow is a foot and half deep.”
On February 26, Nathaniel informed his family of his promotion to serve Colonel Duffié as his Aide-de-camp, as well as the position of Acting Assistant Adjutant-General of the entire brigade. He was keenly aware of the challenges ahead.
Around March 5, in a letter to his mother, Nathaniel wrote of his contentment and happiness with his new job and pleased to be working with Duffié, whom he called “a very pleasant man.” In approximately ten days he was hoping to receive a furlough and be able to see his family. On March 12, he wrote that he was very happy with his new post, working until midnight some nights and up again early the next morning. “This gives you an idea of what my life is – at work from morning till night; but, for all that, I like it, and don’t think I ever felt happier in my life.”
On March 15, 1863 Nathaniel wrote what would be his last letter to his family. He alluded to leaving the next morning with “eleven hundred and sixty-six men, on some sort of a raid; but I don’t know, as yet, where. We are to be gone four days or so; and then I shall, in all probability, be on my way home; so that you must not be surprised if I pop in on you any night towards the end of the week, or the first of next.”
His “surprise visit” never happened, at least not as he envisioned. As his father Henry wrote, “He said the truth. ‘On the first day of the next week,’ his dear but dead body was resting again under his parents’ roof.” After returning from a bridal party of one of Nathaniel’s closest friends, Henry received a telegram, dated March 18, 1863 at Potomac Creek: “Nat shot in jaw; wound in abdomen; dangerous. Come at once.”
Henry rushed toward Washington, D.C., but Nathaniel had already died by the time he arrived. Nathaniel’s brigade had been dispatched to Kelly’s Ford, a crossing on the Rappahannock River. They had been ordered to cross it and, if possible, attack and cut off Generals Jeb Stuart and Fitzhugh Lee’s cavalry.
About 4:00 a.m. on Tuesday, March 17, most of the brigade headed out and later engaged the enemy that day. Many horses were shot and killed and several soldiers wounded. Colonel Duffié’s horse threw him into the river. Adjutant Bowditch, however, escaped unharmed in that day’s first engagement. Later in the day parts of the brigade again faced the enemy’s cavalry – the rebels “yelling like demons, and apparently confident of victory.”
The First Rhode Island surged ahead and met the enemy head-on causing them to flee. So excited were they to have routed the enemy and taken several prisoners, however, they didn’t notice another wave of rebel forces charging upon them. Eighteen Union soldiers were captured and, unfortunately, Lieutenant Nathaniel Bowditch was wounded after killing three rebels.
Apparently he had charged ahead into the enemy’s ranks, well ahead of the command he was leading and found out too late than he had no support. Upon discovering his dilemma he had attempted to turn back, but instead received a sabre blow to the head and was shot in the shoulder.
Henry, before publishing his memoir, had asked an officer who witnessed the battle scene whether his son had acted in a rash or un-military manner – did he perhaps throw his life away? The officer did not hesitate to state, “What he did, he did exactly in the line of duty, not rashly or carelessly. It was his place to lead; and he did so, most bravely, even to the sacrifice of his life.”
After being thrown from his horse, Nathaniel lay helpless and was fired upon several times – one man threatened to blow his brains out. He was shot in the abdomen and the attending surgeon later determined this was probably the fatal shot. Nathaniel continued to lay on the ground until he determined for certain the identity of a fellow soldier who was passing by. He asked for assistance and was lifted onto a horse, leaning over its neck as they proceeded out of the field.
Along the way two surgeons had seen him and believed him to be mortally wounded, to which Nathaniel replied, “Well, I hope I have done my duty; I am content.” One of the surgeons had asked having done his earthly duty was he ready for the next. The surgeon asked if he believed in Christ and had assurance of his sins being forgiven. Nathaniel answered in the affirmative.
Still, Lieutenant Bowditch lingered, suffering great pain, and two ambulance rides only added to his suffering. Around 11:00 p.m. on March 18 the attending doctors believed he was slipping away. Dr. Holland “gently drew up his arms, crossed them upon his manly breast, and spoke kindly to him.” He later fell gently asleep at the age of “twenty-three years, three months, and twelve days.”
His funeral service was held in the family home on March 25, led by Reverends C.F. Barnard and James Freeman Clarke. Reverend Clarke delivered words of comfort to those assembled and in his concluding remarks declared:
He was filled with an inward peace which, I believe, came direct from God. We do not now see the angels which come to strengthen us in such hours; but they are surely there. Such strength and peace only comes from the higher world. He did not look back regretfully; he was lifted above anxiety, above those he loved. He had no fear of the future; it was all well with him. It is all well with him.
His flag-draped coffin was transported to Emanuel Church where some of his fellow officers waited to bear his body to its temporary resting place inside the family vault. Lieutenant Nathaniel Bowditch was later permanently interred beside his grandparents Nathaniel and Mary Bowditch (see last week’s Surname Saturday article for more on Nathaniel the elder here).
Interestingly, following Nathaniel’s death and the battle at Kelly’s Ford, public opinion in the North changed in regards to their army’s ability to engage the enemy, especially as cavalrymen. As Henry Ingersoll Bowditch saw it:
Previous to that period, there had been a general feeling that the South was better able than the North to raise a cavalry force. Men in the South, owing perhaps as much to the want of good roads in that part of the country as to any other cause, had passed much of their time in the saddle. They were, moreover, in their own estimation at least, the only lineal descendants of the old Cavaliers. Northern men, on the contrary, born under the genial influences of freedom, and where good roads lead to every hamlet, had resorted to the less manly, but more luxurious, mode of traveling in carriages.
In both the press and the court of public opinion, a hopefulness arose in the North. Even though the battle at Kelly’s Ford was small in comparison to the other greater and bloodier battles of the Civil War, this one seemed to have raised the morale of the entire Union Army. Apparently, Lieutenant Nathaniel Bowditch did not die in vain after all.
Source: Memorial of Nathaniel Bowditch, by Henry Ingersoll Bowditch, 1865.
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