The Corpus Christi public library came through and yesterday they sent me two newspaper items on my third great-aunt Maggie Jones’s death. If you’ll remember, this poor kid died of scarlet fever when she was just eighteen and away from home. The story we saw last week from the Laredo paper made it sound like she’d been attending school there, and I’d thought it was the boarding school there. Nope, it turns out she’d been at the “Normal Institute, Huntsville,” a teaching school (now I know: normal tends to mean teacher education) that would later become Sam Houston State University. Then apparently she stopped in Laredo on her way home to stay with her aunt and uncle and take an exam at the institute there (a teaching certification exam maybe), when illness struck.
(This was an object lesson in interpreting primary sources. The Laredo paper had led me to believe Maggie was attending school there, but her hometown paper in Corpus Christi had the correct details.)
The “more extended notice” “from the pen of one who knew [Maggie] well” ran in the Caller a few days later. Here’s a PDF of the memorial, followed by a more legible transcription. Don’t get too excited: it was written by Maggie’s pastor, who described her as being pious, and sweet, and, uh… pious. Typical passage:
The subject of this sketch entered into rest at the age of 18 years, 4 months, and 10 days. Physically she was frail, and from an early period she was impressed with the thought that her life would be short. This impression, however, never turned her aside from the duty of the present hour. To be useful, to be well furnished as to her mind, to keep her heart with diligence and to live the life of a Christian, was more to her than length of days and years. She often spoke of death, but it was as a release from the trials and ills of life. During her short illness, texts of scripture would come to her, which she had learned from her mother as being comforting in affliction. She was sensible of her approaching end, and once, after prayer had been offered at her request, she repeated with touching simplicity the prayer of innocent childhood—”Now I lay me down to sleep.”
Yeah, we get it: she was Beth March. Pretty much the only helpful information here is her exact age to the day when she died, which, if my backwards counting is correct, has her birthday as March 19, 1866. (She was a Pisces.)
Maggie is listed as having a “probable and possible” grave at Old Bayview Cemetery in Corpus Christi, the same cemetery where her grandfather, a former mayor of Corpus Christi, would be buried a few years later. So there’s a chance she could have been buried on family property, but Old Bayview was the most likely place she would have ended up.
Just for fun I searched on the name of the clergyman who performed the funeral service and possibly also wrote the memorial piece. I found this article, which seems to be the right guy. (Look at that beard! Are you going to buy anything that guy wrote about anyone?)
Rest in peace, Maggie, wherever you are.