Wool Comes from Sheep

Wool by Beth, 2019

Last week, I thought about wool. It suddenly dawned on me that one of my Facebook friends who loves gravestones is a farmer! I asked her if she would take a couple of photos of wool. This Schofield/Scholfield project wouldn't be complete without it. Her name is Beth and she lives in Ohio. She tells me that she and her hubby have 370 ewes that they breed. That's a lot of wool.

They also have cattle and crops of corn and soybeans. Her great photos (shared to me via Facebook) will add a lot to my project. Thanks so much Beth.

There are always struggles when you are researching and when I looked at the History of Montville (CT) by Baker I found the names spelled quite nicely in this list:

History of Montville, page 500

My great grandmother spelled it in the most simple of ways. SCHOFIELD. I thought that was all I was going to need to know. Wasn't I wrong?

Spectacle Maker or Clothier?

Spectacle Maker or Clothier?

Internet Archive. org  Genealogical and Biographical Record of
New London County Connecticut
J.H.. Beers& Co. 1905

In this genealogical and biographical book, I have found many of my ancestors from Connecticut. It is not scanned perfectly, so I asked my friend Dorothy Hanna to look in the library and send my a clean photocopy. She mailed it to me so that I could work on this line. The above snip is from the Internet Archive, just so you can see that it states that Arthur was a "spectacle maker". If he did do that it was not claimed as an occupation because all three records I have found of his marriage to Sarah state that he is a clothier. 

It is always good to do a reasonably exhaustive search looking for records. By the way, he was 20 years at marriage and she was a spinster at 24. I have not found any evidence of the amount of money he left his children. Records like the Cheshire Marriage License and Bonds and the Boyd's marriage index at Find my Past do not give me anything but clothier as an occupation and still list no parents.

Bishop's Transcript of Arthur and Sarah Scholefield's Marriage

Earliest Church Records for Scholefield

Arthur Scholefield and his wife Sarah Wrigley were married in 1755 in St. Chads Church in Uppermill, Saddleworth, England.

Manchester, England, Church of England Marriages and Banns.

I cropped this record down from the original record found at Ancestry.com and used a graphics program to underline specific words to make sure I understand each part of this record. 

• "of this parish" means they both attended that specific church
• they married in the chapel (not in the big part of the church where worship services were held)
• married by license (not by banns) 
• this was recorded with the year written out completely. 
• he is a Clothier 
• she is listed as spinster (a never before married woman)
• their ages at marriage are not listed
• listed is the name of the man who married them and the witnesses in this narrative format.
• this is Arthur and Sarah's Bishop's Transcript (a copy of the record sent to the Bishop of the Church of England) You'll want to look at that link because you will need your spectacles) (What is a Bishop's Transcript?)

Notice that this record and the parish register doesn't list parent's names like the Scotland records. 

Disarming the Trunk from England

Peril of John Scholfield Recalled

Westerly Historical Society

"Received a trunk from England; knowing the English were very angry because of his introducing the art of woolen manufacturing in America and fearing the trunk had been sent to do him harm, he opened the trunk by removing the hinges. He then discovered a pistol so arranged that the turning of the key in the lock of the trunk would discharge the firearm and kill the person opening the trunk."

• Norwich bulletin. (Norwich, Conn.), 13 Feb. 1915. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress. 

Article can be found at: 

• Disarming the Trunk from England
• <https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn82014086/1915-02-13/ed-1/seq-6/>

Scholfield Family from Yorkshire, England

President Madison's Inaugural Suit
Broadcloth made from Wool

Ingenious and Able Mechanics

While visiting with my maternal grandmother when she lived with my parents, I took out the family Bible and went over some of the clippings that were carefully put in the pages and asked her who put them there and why. This was one that I have scanned and lightened up. There is no source of the newspaper and I have been searching for that for years. (It would have been nice if the heading wasn't cut off.) Grandmother told me that Schofields were smart and prosperous. She told me they sewed tools in their clothes and memorized the directions for the machinery they needed to make.

John Scholfield (1789-1869) was my 5th great grandfather. His wife was Hannah Fox.

Wild and Wooley English Ancestors

Scholfield Ancestors

Where is Saddleworth, England?

Photo by Midge Frazel, 10 July 2019

The majority of my English ancestors have been studied for many, many years by the Family Societies that I have joined. This surname is one that I have not found a society for. In 2014, a woman who was a docent contacted me because she was doing research about the wool industry. Her name was Gail L. Ralston and she was kind enough to send me the paper she wrote (2004-2007) and articles I probably would never have found.  One is from the Smithsonian Institution, "The Scholfield Wool-Carding Machines" by Grace L. Rogers.

When I picked this line up again, I found that maps are starting to appear at Ancestry.com. You might want to look at your tree to see if you have one. I put an arrow pointing to the word Saddleworth on the map.

Ancestry.com 4 July 2019 Arthur Scholefield of Saddleworth, England

Prickly Summer: Alternative Sources

Courtesy of B. Fallon and the Westerly Public Library, 7 May 2019

Prickly Summer: Alternative Sources

In every list of sources beyond the usual census records, family Bibles and land and house records are the mostly ignored "modern day" phone directories probably because they are not archived in places that are easily accessible to researchers who do not travel to the locations where their families lived.

My great aunt, Dorothy B. Bliven, a divorcee, led a prickly early life but managed to move above and beyond her troubles. She was my grandmother's baby sister and someone I knew and loved. 

Finding out more about her has been a genealogy mission for this past winter because she was part of our holiday celebrations and her memory is one I want to preserve for my daughter. 

I discovered this week that the Westerly, Rhode Island library holds more records past the last city directory available at Ancestry.com. (1948) and that more than one of the city directories held there doesn't contain every page that I needed. 

This is why I consider myself lucky to have my friend who can go there and look things up for me. This is one of my most rewarding genealogical experiences to have her to help me. 

Places of Childhood: Garden City

Places of my Childhood
Garden City, Cranston, RI

Land and Tax Assessor card from the city of Cranston, Rhode Island. 5 Apr. 2019

A few years after my maternal grandparents married, they moved to Cranston, Rhode Island from Westerly, Rhode Island. They lived in that town for the rest of their lives, and I have been busy researching the family homes and their family owned business. I have had great success with following their path through life.

These grandparents found a small ranch style home for their daughter, who was my mother, and they put down a deposit to help my father purchase a house. It was in that house and neighborhood that I grew up. We called it "The Plat". (Photo Collection)

I remember my father talking to a man in a big black car and he turned out to be the builder, Mr. Melocarro.  From public tax assessor records, created from Cranston city ledger books, I found out that a close by shopping area was built by that same builder on land once owned by William Harris (Rhode Island Monthly) It was great to find out who owned this land and that he did not come for religious reasons but to find land for his family and business.

I just barely remember the coal mine, where the Newport Creamery now still stands. At Christmas, they put up a carousel in the parking lot and I visited Santa Claus. 

Back door of the Creamery, 2014, collection of the author.

It wasn't until I looked for a record for the Garden City Elementary School, that I found out the name of the plot of land that Mr. Melocarro set aside for development. I had not thought to look here for records.

It is a big breakthrough in my investigation of my family history.  

Wills and Probate Records for a Brick Wall Ancestor

Wills and Probate Records
for a Brick Wall Ancestor

Lieut. William Steward

abt. 1692 - 1755

I certainly didn't expect to see any more records for my 6th great grandfather, Lieut. William Steward. I knew there was one because it is mentioned in the book, History of Stonington (CT). I knew that Judge Wheeler must have had access to records because of his status in his community. This is interesting because stories abound of he and a friend jumping ship to come to America and that he paid for gravestones for his first wife and himself  and that they lie in the woods somewhere in North Stonington. None of this has been proven.

When I read about this in 2004, people who may have known the location of the gravestones had died. As a gravestone photographer, I knew that the stones might have sunk into the ground by now or be paid for and never erected.  The Barbour Index of Vital Records lists the death of his first wife and his marriage to his second wife. Several researchers have suggested who his father was but no proof was given.

I was surprised to see how many documents are in the will and probate. I did know of one grandson (with gravestone) buried in the Stewart Hill cemetery. But, family that holds the deed says that no one older is buried there.

Everyone loves a good genealogy mystery, don't they? By the way, is it Stewart or Steward?

The Memory Fades: Family You Know and Family You Didn't

The Memory Fades

Family You Know and Family You Didn't

The summer before I was two years old, I met my only living great grandfather, who was my grandmother's father. I didn't remember meeting him until my mother showed me her wedding photos. My parents were both in the room and my mother said that I couldn't possibly remember him since I was a baby when he died. I was 1 year, 11 months and 7 days old when he died. 

When I described him coming into the room where I was playing on the floor at my grandfather's feet, my father asked me to tell them exactly what I remember. 

My mother looked astounded and my father made a "hurumpf" sound. I was quite sure that I was alone in my grandmother's house that day with my grandparents taking care of me. 

The clincher was that I remembered that he smelled strongly of cigarettes and what my grandmother said to my grandfather when she opened the French doors and gave her father a gentle push inside the living room.

Neither thing is provable but she said, "Evans.  J. Fred is here". The man, the oldest person in my family at that point, came directly to me and ruffled my hair. I thought, "Oh, the other grandpa." and went back to playing with the puzzle of blocks on the floor.  He sat down in a chair next to my grandfather and talked to him.

Don't discount even a tiny memory of what you remember. I will always be glad I remember that. 

These are the only three surviving photos of James Frederick Barber (1866-1949) One taken in 1918, one taken in a group photo in 1938 and the one of him at my parent's wedding in 1946. He was always called J. Fred. 

Who was alive in your lifetime? 

The Memory Fades: How to be an Organized Person

Photo of Erin Condren Paper Pads, erincondren.com, 2019

The Memory Fades: How to be Organized

I have had people tell me that I am both too organized and too clean. One girl in college bullied me because my room was clean and I was too stuck up. I was a freshman and she was a senior. Others turned against her because they through she was wrong. But, that was only the beginning. I didn't realize that for the many years to come, people would pick on me for what I was good at. It wasn't until I got good at computers that I noticed people getting even more jealous. 

Before the memory fades, I'd like to say that I didn't immediately join the Facebook group "The Organized Genealogist" because I knew it was something I could not teach to others. When I was invited again, I did so but I seldom read it. There were too many other groups I needed to learn from. 

I think our mothers and grandmothers influence us in ways that make us successful.  My mother struggled to maintain order but she worked at it because she didn't like working and she took her "job" as housewife seriously. After talking with men friends, one of the topics where they think their girlfriends or wives could improve was "keeping house". Think about the number of census records you have read that list that as the female occupation. Women ran the farm or the store, took in laundry and seamstress work. Dawn to dusk repeats itself in many journals women wrote. 

My mother, tired of my messy room and unmade bed, at age 4 or 5, insisted that I learn to manage my own life. She had been teaching me to make my own bed when I moved from the crib to a bed. As soon as I was able, it was not optional that I do so every single morning. Because I have no siblings, I didn't know people didn't make their bed until I was old enough to ride my bike in my neighborhood.

Mom did a very radical thing. She took a bedsheet and dumped the entire contents of it into the middle and tied it up with a big rubber bands. The contents of my room was in layers, toys, books, clothes were inside. I was not allowed out of the house until I had put everything where it belonged. I don't recommend this to others because I discovered that I enjoyed keeping my room in order and demanded a bookcase, a desk and a toy chest. I was never messy again. I became less social. My room was my own queen's domain.

Although I do not agree with everything in his book, much of it can make us think about how we live and what can give us stress. I can improve areas of my life and maybe make it easier to decide what is important. One thing to remember is that this is translated from another language and cultural differences are obvious.

The Memory Fades: Why Do Genealogists Remember?

Last Night in my Crib
collection of the author
Photo by Dorothy Frances Stewart Broadfoot
Taken in Cranston, Rhode Island

The Memory Fades 

Why do Genealogists Remember?

I know that this photo looks faded. So many of the photographs in my personal collection are fading because my mother and I looked at them a lot together. I'm not sorry that we did because otherwise I would not know some of my family history and I would not understand my childhood from the perspective of my parents and grandparents. My mother was annoyed when I wanted to label, date and write down our conversations about photographs. She wanted me to listen but she didn't want me to remember. She wanted me to live in the moment.

Dementia runs wild in my family tree, partly because so many of my ancestors lived to be very elderly and partly because dementia is a by-product of other medical conditions. Death records mention this over and over like bad song lyrics. It is hard to pick apart metal illness from physical ailments. 

Because genealogists live in a strange world of records, memories and photographs, my own personal history gets shoved to the background and I fear that I will not leave any impressions behind of, well, me. I do think that my fellow genealogists share this fear. I don't think that this is just because I am an only child, only grandchild and for a time, an only great grandchild. It is because to us, our ancestors are more fun to work with.

I stopped blogging through the holidays because I want to learn to live in the moment. I've read so much about mindfulness and how regular day to day life is giving me anxiety. Do genealogists think too much about the past or is it something that is happening to me now because I am in my 70s? 

Should I be fearful that dementia is already happening inside my brain?

I think I should write about some things that I remember because there is no photograph that matches the memory because we can't take a photograph of everything. I suspect the generations that follow me will try to do just that. 

Blogging was designed to be about short writing. I think that is why so many have stopped writing blog posts. Writing is time consuming, so let's just take a photograph so we won't forget. Is that going to work?

Some studies suggest that writing with a pen in a journal helps us remember better than recording with a computer and sharing online. What do you think?