Houlton 1895 Post Card

Jackson falls

These photos were borrowed from a website on the computer for the time being, but I will replace them as soon as I have a chance to go over myself. Jackson Falls is just across the border from our family's property in Littleton Maine on the Meduxnekeag River. As kids, My brother and sister and I guess the rest of the family used to cross the border on foot and arrive at the falls for picnics and a chance to get into the water. Of course now that is impossible unless you are a commando of sorts as the border is so closely guarded.

New Information and previews of coming attractions...

I just happened upon a site for Kingston, New Brunswick lately. In it I found a link to Canadian genealogy that happened to have our Grandmother Day's family traced back a few generations. In fact it is all the way to MY/OUR: GREAT GREAT GREAT GRANDPARENTS. Probably they go into the 1780s or 90s. I present that info below.

Then I looked at the Kingston site again and found a link to the local museum. I called there and found Judi and Glen Baxter who have been doing some research for us just out of curiosity. Very generous people there! I think she will be a great asset, and she is a pleasure to talk to. Thanks to both of you for the information so far.

It turns out that there are connections, as you will see, with several towns in the area.

Kars is down river from Hatfield Point where I always assumed we were from. Kars is named for a battle in the Crimean war. Strangely, I have been there in Turkey, though I did not know it till I checked the maps today...Just passing through a few years ago.

We also have connections in Kingston which I will try to sort out soon. Both towns have closer connections to the river than Hatfield Point which is more about Belisle Bay than the Saint John.

This may solve some of the mysteries about living near and crossing over the Saint John from where they had their cabin in the early 1900s.

Judy also mentioned that there was a Day's Landing(If I remember the word correctly).

One ancestor appears to be from Digby, Nova Scotia. It is a pretty town on the Bay of Fundy, well known as a romantic vacation spot.

It is likely that many of these ancestors were Loyalist settlers from the US around the revolution. The Mitchells may also be connected there in the area, though I will still have to work out whether they were from Massachusetts or there in New Brunswick. There are Mitchells in the Kingston area, but are they OUR Mitchells?

FAMILY TREE FROM MY BRANCH

Bill Mitchell 1952 -
Richard Mitchell 1944-
Mary Mitchell 1940-

1. Richard Bruce Mitchell 1905- 1955 = 1.Mary Cafarella 1919-1998

2. William E Mitchell 1874-1942 = 2. Henrietta Day 1876 -1917

William's parents 3.William E Mitchell =3.Maggie Patterson

Henrietta's parents 3.Henry Day 1839-1901=3.Cecelia A. Jones c1846

Cecelia's parents

4. Moses Owens Jones 1810 = 4. Mary Matilda Johnston 1810

Cecelia's grandparents

5. Jesse Jones1771 = 5. Martha Adams1774-c. 1838  and 5. James W Johnston= 5. ?

Jesse's parents
6. Edward Jones Jr.1743-1831 = 6. Eleanor Davis

Edward Jr's parents
Edward Jones = Margaret Trevoe*

Edward's parents
John Jones = Margaret Clayton

Martha Adams' parents
Nathaniel Adams1744-1818 = Mary Owen

Nathaniel's Parents
Samuel Adams = Abigail Reynolds or Lockwood

Samuel's father
John Adams

Mary Owen's parents
Moses Owen = Elizabeth Cornell

Elizabeth's father
Samuel Cornell


* The name Trevoe may be a misspelling or a variation of the Welsh name Trevor.  An R and an E can look quite similar in the lower case, especially with a quill pen.  Trevoe is found in England and Scotland though. 

Henrietta Day Mitchell's genealogy

Henrietta's father was Henry Day. I have a little information on him, but hope to add more soon from other sources.

Henry Day was a House Joiner in Springfield Parish born approx: 1839
Cecilia A. Jones Day born approx: 1845

Daughters in 1881 census:

Ida Day 14 years old
Ema(Emma?) 12
Ellen 10
Mary 8
Blanche 6
Henrietta(spelled Hernatte in the census) 4
Martha 9 mos.

In the next census in 1901 the girls were all gone but there was an 18 year old:

Anna


Her Mother was: Cecelia Ann Jones born in 1846 and married January 25 1866 in Kars,( a town near Kingston see below) King's county New Brunswick)(Here is the source of the story of: The Jones Girls.)

Her Mother's mother was: Mary Matilda Johnston, born in 1810 in Digby, Nova Scotia and died on February 3, 1891.

Her Mother's Father was: Moses Owens Jones born 1810 and married December 28, 1830(Queens county New Brunswick) and died about 1861.

Moses Jones parents were: Jesse Jones b.1771 and Martha Adams b. 1774

Jesse Jones' parents were: Edward Jones Jr. 1743-1831 and Eleanor Davis(Aunt of Jefferson Davis of the Confederacy.)(The Jones family was from Pennsylvania. Loyalists born well before the revolution and was from Bucks Co, PA, and served with Bucks Co. Vol. during the war.)

Edward Jones Junior's parents were Edward Jones and Margaret Trevoe*

Edward's parents were John Jones and Margaret Clayton

Martha Adams' parents were Nathaniel Adams 1744-1818 and Mary Owen

Mary Owen's parents were Moses Owen and Elizabeth Cornell

Elizabeth's Father was Samuel Cornell

Nathaniel Adams' parents were Abigail Reynolds or Lockwood and Samuel Adams

Samuel's Father was John Adams

Mary Johnston's father was James W. Johnston(no details)



* Trevoe may be a misspelling or variation on the Welsh name: Trevor.  The name is found in England and Scotland though.

I know this is hopelessly complicated, but I will put it in standard notation later.  When I started the two posts that are constructed this way, it was much shorter.  I have found a great deal of information just in two days, so it is a real mess.  Let us just say that we are back to the first decade of the 1700s at least on this side of the family....Still searching for Mitchells.



Kars
Kars overlooks Belleisle Bay and was named, following the end of the Crimean War (1853-6) for the defense of Kars, in eastern Turkey, by Sir William Fenwick Williams (1800-1883). General Williams was a native of Annapolis Royal and served as lieutenant-governor of Nova Scotia. There is a Karsdale on the Annapolis Basin also named for the battle. source: Place Names of Atlantic Canada by William B. Hamilton and Geographical Names of New Brunswick by Alan Rayburn.

The Jones' settled on either side of the Saint John River in Wickham and in Evandale.  Evandale is just above Kars on the west bank.  Wickham is farther up river on the east bank.  The author of the info I got on this thought it was more likely on Spoon Island, north of Kars in mid channel.

My, what varied stories!

Ok....I was told by members of the New Brunswick branch of the family, that Henrietta Day always said that her family was from Newfoundland. This is not really a good thing in some ways because "Newfies" are the butt of jokes in Canada.

In discussing Mitchell origins by email with John Mitchell, he related the following:

"Grandmother Day I was told was descended from Dutch loyalists who migrated to St. John after the American Revolution. Most of the people in St. John (as you know) are descended from Dutch and English Loyalists who left New York and moved to Canada to stay in the British Empire." (In fact I did not know about the Dutch part John.)

The Ross children were under the impression that the Mitchells were originally from Canada, but their information was sketchy and based on the fact that Uncle Everett(their grandfather) was brought up there.

All of my research shows that the Mitchells were from Massachusetts originally, but since I cannot get beyond the placing of our grandfather in the orphange, that is still up in the air.

In discussing all this with my sister, she stated that she remembered our father saying that the Mitchells left Virginia during the revolution as Loyalists and moved to Canada. This is interesting because I just yesterday spoke to a William Everett Mitchell whose ancestors were from Virginia. This also was a hotbed of Mitchell activity tracing back to the first dozen years of English immigration to America...One Experience Mitchell being one of those who first came here from England.

Then I got this from John:
This is even more confusing because as my father always implied that the Mitchells were descended from people who came from Scotland by way of Nova Scotia and later moved down to New England. Also, he always implied was that the Maritime connection was what brought grand Pa and Grand Ma together. I think the solution to the riddle is in St. John somewhere Or maybe Halifax.

Then we have this from John:
Nobody's from Newfoundland, or if anybody was, they wouldn't admit it. The Mitchell story as I understood it was connected to the displacement of the Acadians by the Scots after the French ceded Acadia to England in the 1740s as part of a treaty to end one of the many French and Anglo wars of that century, The deal was that the Acadians would be rounded up and shipped to Louisiana and the English would be able to resettle the area with whom ever. The Brits gave the place to the Scots.


If I have enough lifetimes, I may be able to figure this out. Then what?

I have found this crest in a number of similar forms. The red figures on the central band are new to me but the rest is familiar.

An interesting Mitchell link.

http://www.accessgenealogy.com/surnames/mitchell

Know Thyself

Gnothi Seuton - Chilon the Spartan

Ugly Rumors and Family Legends

As I said when I started doing these blogs on family history, I do not plan to leave anything out. Most of these people are long gone now. I do not think badly of old family members if some unsavory fact comes to light. It becomes just one of those colorful facts that occur in any family. I like the idea of reporting anything that I hear(within reason)as long as it is done without malice of any kind. We have to face the facts that times and morals have changed, and what may have horrified earlier generations might actually make folk heroes of them now. I am sure that there was a great deal of pain involved in some actions of the last two centuries, but these stories, good or bad, help to flesh out the character of the people. We often portray out ancestors as rather saintly individuals, but it is the memory of these people as old men and women that blind us to the younger and perhaps wilder people they really were.

I am told that William was in constant trouble as a youth, and may have actually been a horse thief...well, at least there were no hangings in the family. It is also said that his father may have been a deserter from the American Civil War.

Joyce Woods thought that William E. Mitchell went to Canada with Henrietta and stayed for a time, but could not take it for long before he returned to Massachusetts.

John Mitchell said that Harold told him that Wm E sold a grocery store and had extra cash so he bought two identical Hupmobiles. He gave one to Henrietta and gave the other to a mistress he was keeping in Boston. He soon got into an accident with his wife's car. It was badly damaged so it needed lots of time in the shop to repair. He went to Boston, borrowed the mistress's car and parked it in the driveway. His wife did not notice. The car was repaired and switched.

John said that Everett told the story of them all being around the dinner table. Henrietta said that she knew what was going on and demanded to know why he was seeing this other woman. He said it was for sex. She told him that he could have sex with her. He reportedly said that no one would want to have sex with her. She packed up the next day and got on the train for St. John, New Brunswick.

Grandfather Mitchell later married his mistress whose name was Lucy.

When she got to St. John with the kids, she went to her father's house. He said basically..."You did what?". She said he was keeping a mistress and her father said, "Who isn't?". She refused to go back to him, so he told her she could not live at home. He let her use a log cabin near the St John River. John Mitchell said he was named for the river.

Evidently, our father remembered going across the river in a horse drawn sleigh with the river breaking up behind them as they crossed.

John said that Everett,Lauretta, Helen, Harold and Richard's childhood home in Malden was a house on the corner of Pine street and the Fellsway East...Presently painted yellow.

William E. Mitchell Obituary

WM E MITCHELL DIES FROM HEART ATTACK STRICKEN AT WORK

Wm E. Mitchell who made his home with Ex-ald and Mrs. Charles R. Huchinson, 22 Winthrop Street, passed away yesterday afternoon at the hospital aged 68. He was a painter and was taken with a heart attack at Wellington yesterday morning just after he had started work. He was removed to the Hospital in the ambulance and he failed to rally.
The deceased was born in Lowell and had lived here practically all of his life, working for H N Perrigo and F L Cameron, painters. For the last few years he had been in business for himself. His wife died in 1917. Surviving are three sons, Harold, 22 Winthrop Street; Everett, Mc Cormack St, and Rcihard of Cedar St, all of this city, and two daughters in Canada, Mrs. Lauretta Northrup, Hatfield Point, N B and Mrs Helen Price, Calgary, Alberta.

More memories from Carol

Just dawned on me Uncle Harold's wife's last name was Rice.
Aunt Marguerite Rice.
She was from Winthrop, Ma.
Also, Leora's last when she married was Gelombado, they were divorced and she married Bill Kennedy, She had one child by her first husband Nicolas, the child's name was Nicolas Bruce Gilambado, her second marriage she had four children, Keith, Kevin,Noreen and Mark.
William Bruce Mitchell, Uncle Harold's second child married a women named Betty and I remember they had one child by the name of Craig and I am not sure of the rest of their names.
Aunt Helen lived in Calgary and had to move to British Columbia for a drier climate, she had Arthritis. Her children lived in Toronto and one son was crushed in their cement factory. I know I told you that before. Bruce Price I met and I met Oscar and Aunt Helen. I know they loved horses and John my brother visited them at their farm, it was beautiful, I am sure he could tell you more.

MY FAVORITE CHRISTMAS

There were four of us,
Two girls and two boys,
Waiting for Christmas without any fuss,
We knew there wouldn't be many toys.
Our house had burned down and we lost everything.
So we knew there wouldn't be much
for Santa to bring.
Dad got a tree, and we got as busy as a bee,
Making decorations out of cardboard,
wrapping paper and paste,
We had no time to waste.
We strung popcorn on a string,
Dad told the Christmas story and we would all sing.
We went to bed that Christmas Eve,
When we woke up it was hard to believe.
There were presents for all,
I got a sled, books and doll.
That Christmas meant a lot to me,
The love was the most important thing you see.



A poem by May Joan Mitchell Ross Williams. When she was a child, my father Richard convinced Everett that they could do well in Maine. The family moved to the Ridge Road in Littleton, Maine. Evidently the house had been foreclosed on recently. The disgruntled former owner set fire to the house and they lost everything. I guess Everett built a cabin for them to live in. They had very little for a while. Eventually they moved back to Massachusetts as there was little work available.

TANG AND THE MOOSE

This is Everett Mitchell many years after this story.




I thought I'd go hunting one lazy day,
Got my rifle and called my dog Tang, and we were away.
Down through the field we went and sat by a tree.
Looking all around to see what we could see.
Been sitting there awhile when I heard a sound.
It was a moose walking out of the woods coming right at me,
Tang growled, as small as he was,
was just as brave as he could be.The moose was a big one with antlers up high.
My heart beat so fast, thought I might die.
I climbed up up the tree shaky and scared,
Tang kept up his bravery and did what he dared.
The moose finally gave up, turned and ran.
It was good to have my little dog of black and tan.


This poem by Mary Joan Mitchell Ross Williams is a true story about her Dad and his dog.

Pickin' Berries

A poem by
Mary Joan Mitchell Ross Williams







Grandmother went to pick berries one day,
She always wore a long dress of black.
My grandfather had gone to pile wood out back,
As he came out to the front door,
Looked way down the field real hard,
Saw a black figure in the shrubs,
He hollered, "Hey, old lady, get me some grub."
There was no answer, so he walked,
Toward the black figure he saw.
And as he got real close, he discovered it wasn't Grandma,
It was a black bear and as he rose up in the air,
You could hear my grandfather holler as he ran,
"Open the door, open the door, it's a bear."



This is a story told to Mary Joan Mitchell Ross by her father Everett Mitchell.

WHEN I WAS A LAD

I lived on a farm when I was a lad,
Keeping busy, milking cows, cutting wood.
Doing most of the chores, which wasn't too bad,
There was only Mother, two sisters and two brothers,
So I did what I could.
At night I'd come to the house ready to rest,
Put wood in the stove, get something to eat.
This is the time I enjoyed best.
I'd sit by the fireplace with my dog, Tang at my feet.
I would get my bible down off the shelf.
and start reading God's Word in the peace of the night.
I would read and read to myself,
Laying down on the floor, by the fire so bright.
Before I knew it I had read all of the Good Book.
From cover to cover, surprised me I read it so fast.
Then a few nights later in John, I took another look.
Something happened to me, I accepted Jesus at last.



A Poem about her father by Mary Joan Mitchell Ross Williams.

SKATING ONE NIGHT

These pictures are of my father Richard, but they show the river in Winter.




Skating One Night


My brother and I went skating one night,
On the St. John River, where we got such a fright.
We were laughing and talking, skating along,
when we heard a noise and wondered what was wrong.
We looked up the river in the moonlight,
And to our surprise,
We could see bright green eyes.
as we watched we could see them move.
"It's wolves," my brother hollered real loud.
We started to skate as fast as we could,
I fell once, but at that time, I wasn't proud.
Never skated so fast in my life.
we could hear the barking,
My brother pulled out his hunting knife.
We finally got off of the ice and up on a trail.
I know we started for home, our feet did sail.
We were glad to see our house and ran for the door.
We didn't go skating at night any more.


A poem by Mary Joan Mitchell Ross Williams about her father, Everett and her uncle...either Harold or my father Richard.