Keeping up with the Joneses, Part 2: Charles writes from Texas

Behold, Anna Collins’s handiwork: the binder of letters from the Jones brothers. (I know, the Jones brothers actually wrote the letters. But great-great Aunt Anna saved them, and I feel I have to thank her constantly, because I have heard from my parents and grandma that she could be JUDGY, and you didn’t want to cross her. Anyway.)

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“Letters from Jones Brothers” (Anna MacGregor Collins’s handwriting). Binder compiled in late 1960s or so

The letters are from or to Charles, Ezra, Lucius, Alonzo, and William, and the dates range from 1848 to the early 1880s. I’m slowly going through and scanning and transcribing these, and you, dear blog readers, are my excuse for getting through them in a timely fashion.

But first I’m going to cheat a little and offer up a letter that has already been transcribed, because Anna Jones MacGregor (my second great-grandmother and Judgy Anna’s mother) sent it off to be printed in a Texas newspapers sometime in the late 30s or early 40s (I’m guessing.) Here’s a PDF of the clipping—appears to have been from a Hebbronville newspaper, but not sure which one. I’m running it because it’s sort of a nice intro to the Jones siblings (and also I’m lazy).

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Intro to letter. Mrs. W.W. MacGregor = Anna Jones MacGregor.

The letter is from Charles Jones, whom we met last week. (I know, the letter intro says it’s Anna Jones MacG’s grandfather, who was also named Charles, but he died in 1843, so it’s clearly a typo). Since it was written to “the folks back home in old New England” and addressed to a brother, I’m guessing the recipient was either William or Ezra up in Boston or maybe New Hampshire.

To summarize the letter: Charles, who would have recently graduated from Dartmouth (at the age of 32?), was traveling with his younger brother Alonzo, then a teenager, down to Texas. They sailed from New York to Galveston on a fifteen-day journey, took a steamboat to Houston, and then traveled some sixty miles north by wagon to Grimes County (not far from Montgomery, where he wound up living and practicing law), noting plenty of traffic along the way, probably from immigrant settlers who were streaming into Texas at the time. 

“The road goes where the wagons are pleased to drive, and there is so much travel that there are sometimes eight or ten parallel tracks, and we could sometimes see twenty teams at once, with four to six yolk of oxen to each, and from ten to twelve oxen. The drivers carry their own snack and whiskey, and the cattle are turned loose to feed. Farmers make money here.”

Was he looking to buy land? For most of the letter he’s talking about the money involved in growing cotton or raising livestock (“A man may keep as many [sheep] as he pleases,” he writes) and the rising price of land, but there’s also no indication that he was more than an observer. He and his brother appear to have known where they were headed, since he mentions they were expecting letters upon their arrival. Was Charles looking for opportunities in Texas, or was he on his way to begin a specific job? And who the heck was Sam?

But never mind. In the newspaper the clipping is followed by this note, which has some delightfully specific information about two other Jones brothers. There’s Alonzo, who we already knew worked for the railroad; and then Lucius (called “Lu” in this and other letters), who was the chaplain in a Confederate brigade that fought in one of the few Civil War skirmishes in New Mexico, and who met with a tragic (and ironic) death:

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Some choice bits of info about Lucius Jones and Alzonzo Jones.

Yeah, so THAT happened. We’ll find out a little more about Lu’s life and death in the Jones letters. Until then…

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Wellesley girls gone (slightly) wild: Anna Jones at college, 1882

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My great-great grandmother Anna Jones, likely during her college days (back of picture has name of a Boston photographers’ studio)

In 1882, Anna Jones was 20 and attending Wellesley College, a long way from Corpus Christi, Texas. I suspect her Jones relations had something to do with her going to school up near Boston, since her father’s family had some New England roots. One of Anna’s uncles, Alonzo Jones, was a ticket agent for the Old Colony railroad, and appears to have made some of her travel arrangements (at least from what I can make of his letters to her, which isn’t much on account of his CRAZY handwriting), but other than that, I haven’t uncovered much about those Wellesley years. Did she graduate? Did she live in the dormitories? (I’m guessing she didn’t live with Uncle Alonzo, since the 1880 census shows him living in a boarding house.)

However, I did find three of Anna’s notebooks from her time at school. Two are academic, and oneus  a “commonplace book” full of quotes and verses she wanted to remember. It’s marked 1882 and “Private.” (134 years later, we are totally snooping.)

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Anna’s literature and botany notebooks (Botany dated 1881)

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Anna’s commonplace book, 1882

In each page of her commonplace book, Anna drew a line down the left margin with her pen and ruler, creating a tidy column for citations. On the very first page she began with quoting a lot of Spenser’s The Faerie Queene. (Oh, college.) On subsequent pages she quoted Byron, Lowell, Longfellow, Pope, Shelley, and then went on a Shakespeare kick for about two pages, occasionally making little x‘s over the verse lines to figure out the scansion. She tended to nerd out on passages about art, books, eternal truths, death. As one does at twenty.

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Anna digging Raleigh, Goethe, Bacon

Halfway through the notebook the material starts to get a little more eclectic. Anna left off quoting the (mostly male) classic literary canon for awhile in order to transcribe a popular poem by Mary Torrans Lathrap, a women’s suffragist and temperance activist. “A Woman’s Answer to a Man’s Question,” has fun lines like A loving woman finds heaven or hell/ on the day she is made a bride and takes the view that a woman’s love is too valuable to be wasted on jerks who only want someone to cook and clean for them. Respect!

Then there’s THIS little gem called “Recipe for a Harvard-Man,” and which appears to have been something of an 1880s meme.

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Oh SNAP, Harvard guys!

“Take a lump of Egotism:
Add a slice of Skepticism;
Mix them well together with a ‘culchawed’ Boston drawl;
Add a little Darwnism,
Just a smack of Positivism
And flavor with the essence of unmitigated gall.”

I managed to find the rhyme in three or four college publications around the country in the 1880s, and I wonder how many girls’ notebooks it wound up in.

But by far the cutest/most embarrassing thing in Anna’s notebook is a poem attributed to “L.B.E,” and dedicated to “K.C.,” both of whom were almost certainly Anna’s schoolmates, and is about poor Kate (K.C., we presume), who sat in the front row of a concert and made mutual flirty-eyes with one of the male singers:

I sing not of war or of a hero
My subject is of our dear Kate,
Who to our everlasting sorrow
At the Concert met her sweet fate
She sat, an innocent victim,
Right down on the very front seat
When lo: before us he sing
A sweet warbler arose at her feet.
In a way that is now quite the craze,
But we could see in his sweet eye
As he looked & met her shy gaze
The words of Caesar veni, vedi, vici
We all know how sweet is our Kate
And to contradict it I do hate;
But often a fear has come of late
That to become more sweet is her fate.

So many questions! Who was L.B.E? Did Kate and the guy ever hook up? Was he from Harvard? Was rhyming eye with vici some kind of droll 1880s schoolgirl joke? Did Anna ever sit in the library with this notebook, copying all those lines? Did she remember them later?

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Mothers, verified and otherwise

Gallery

This gallery contains 10 photos.

In honor of Mother’s Day, all the mothers in my mother’s line whose photos I could find in the family collection, though the documentation on some of them is pretty scanty. See notes! Married names are in parentheses. Ann (or … Continue reading

Starting points: the brief life of Maggie Jones

I was just beginning to compose this post this morning when I realized I’d accidentally hit Publish at some point instead of Save Draft. It wasn’t a big deal, of course… I just changed it back to draft mode and it had only been online for a few minutes. By then, though, it had gone out to as a “New Post” email to the subscription list. Anyone who saw it would saw just the post title and these four images below, in the same order they appear now.

But as it happens, these photos tell almost all the story I have about Maggie L. Jones, who is my third great-aunt:

Anna's sister. Reverse side of card says

Maggie Jones, born around 1866 in Corpus Christi , Texas

Maggie was Anna Jones’s sister. According to census records, she was born around 1866 in Corpus Christi, the youngest of three—Anna, who was about four years older, followed by Harriet, aka “Hattie,” and then Maggie. I assume Maggie is short for Margaret, since she has an aunt Margaret on her mother’s side, and Hattie seems to have been similarly named-after someone on that side.

I found the photo before I saw the census records. So I found out from Anna herself—well, her note—that she’d had a sister.

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Reverse side of photo. Anna’s handwriting; “My sister Maggie.”

A few months later I found out what happened to her, by way of a funeral notice in a scrapbook that Anna had put together later in life—the scrapbook appears to be from the 1920s, and there’s a single spread of pages plastered with obituaries and funeral notices of family members across the years, a sort of paper graveyard.

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Note: M.A. Sinckler is Mary Ann Moore, apparently widowed and remarried by 1884.

And there you’ll find Maggie, who died of scarlet fever at the age of 18.
AIMG_7632 few more details: She’d died shortly after starting school in Laredo. As to which school—maybe it was the Laredo Seminary, which later became as The Holding Institute? The school seems to have served many purposes, but this marker indicates that it had opened as a boarding school for women in 1880. Anna was attending Wellesley around this time, and I think that she and Hattie later taught school in Corpus Christi, so it’s possible that Maggie was attending school to become a teacher as well… or a missionary? There were several teachers and clergy on the Jones side of the family, so either vocation seems possible. 

UPDATE: It turns out she was enrolled at the Normal Institute in Huntsville.

Other little details to be gleaned: Maggie was staying in Laredo with her aunt Margaret on her mother’s side, who was married to William Headen. Only one sister is mentioned as arriving with their mother to be by Maggie’s bedside—maybe that was Hattie, since Anna may have been up at school in Boston. And I wonder how much it cost to have a funeral train?

I found an abstract for a memorial piece published about her in the Corpus Christi Caller a week or so after her death. I hope to get the article soon. Also hope to find out where her grave is. And why she went to school. And why did she go to Laredo instead of Wellesley like her sister? And when did her father die?  And what was her life like, there in another century, on the edge of Texas and the ocean?

Who are all these people again?

If you’ve just recently joined us (ME) here at this blog, here’s a fresh introduction to the folks whose lives I’ve been researching, as well as few I plan to talk about soon.

All of these people are related to me through my mother’s father, Malcolm MacGregor Jameson, known to me as “Grandpa Mac” and to others in the family as MacGregor. He didn’t talk much about his family and the relationship I had to him and my grandmother wasn’t a close one. So some of this stuff I’m learning is very new to me.

On Mac’s dad’s side is my great-great-grandfather Joe Lee Jameson, a Texas bureaucrat who had been bookkeeper at an insane asylum, the State Revenue Agent of Texas, endorser for an adding machine, and had recently become an oil company executive when he died of typhoid fever at the age of thirty-four. He was married to Amaryllis Routh Jameson (whose later married name was Ward and who took the nickname “Jamie”), and at least half the stuff I know about this family comes from her scrapbooks, so she is my hero.

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Joe Lee Jameson, looking very important

They had three children,* all born in Texas:

The eldest, Malcolm Routh Jameson (my great-grandfather), also died relatively young, in his fifties. He had been a Naval officer during WWI and later in life became a science-fiction writer. I’ve built a web site for him and I’ll sometimes call him MRJ for short.

The second child was Vida Jameson (or “Vida I” because MRJ named his daughter after her). She died when she was just five. *There were also twin boys in the family who were born and died (or else were stillborn) in 1901. They’re the ones with unsettling little angel baby jpegs on their Ancestry.com profiles (no, I don’t know who put them there).

A year after the twins, and two years after Vida’s death, House Baker Jameson (named for his father’s mentor, Colonel Edward M. House), was born. He became an actor and worked on stage, radio, TV and film from the 1930s into the late 60s. His first wife was Edith (Edie) Taliaferro, a stage actress who had been a child star and who also had appeared in a handful of silent films, only one of which survives. After she died, House remarried, to actress and dancer Liz Mears. (And while he’s not a blood relative, I’ll tell you about her dad sometime, because… well, you’ll see.)

MRJ was the only one of his siblings to have children of his own: my Grandpa Mac (the second born), and Vida Jameson (aka Vida II), who as a young adult became friends with some Golden Age sci-fi writers her father knew, and eventually published stories of her own.

Vida and Mac’s mother was my great-grandmother Mary MacGregor Jameson (I grew up hearing her referred to as “Nana”), who first met MRJ when they were kids, when both his family and hers were living in the administrative staff quarters of the Southwestern Insane Asylum in San Antonio, Texas, around 1897. If you’re following along, you’ll remember my great-great-grandfather Joe Lee Jameson was the bookkeeper; my other great-great grandfather was the superintendent.

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MRJ and Nana (Mary), 1920s: “Of course we’re crazy about each other. We met at the insane asylum!”

Like MRJ, Mary was the only one of her siblings to have children. She was the second of five sisters, the four others being:

  • Anna MacGregor Collins, the oldest, who was the family archivist and genealogist, and whom I have to thank for saving a lot of this stuff.
  • Helen MacGregor, who never married and became a schoolteacher (oh, but she left some compelling stuff).
  • Margaret MacGregor Morgan, who moved to New York City in the 1930s. Still trying to figure out her story.
  • Kathryn MacGregor Burgess, who along with her sister Anna married military officers stationed in the Philippines.

The MacGregor sisters’ parents (see how I pivoted and am now going backward through the generations of my Grandpa Mac’s mother’s line?), were my great-great grandfather Dr. William Wallace MacGregor, a physician and surgeon, and Anna Jones MacGregor, my great-great grandmother (whose birth was celebrated in this lovely letter).

Beyond this generation and going backward, Anna Jones’s line is the most well-documented—most of the material I have from the 1880s and earlier is from her side, and she and some of her daughters claimed DAR membership based on her ancestors (the Moores, the Markses, and the Meriwethers). We’ve already had a glimpse of Anna’s maternal relatives, and there are some letters from her father and his people too.

I’ve also started to find out a little more about Dr. MacGregor’s family, who I think came over to the US from Glasgow, Scotland, around 1850. I have a few scraps (and I mean, literally, scraps) from that side.

And then, jumping ahead about a century (oh, the whiplash!), I have some stuff that provides some interesting glimpses of my mother’s very early childhood in New York, when she and my grandmother lived with MRJ and Nana while Grandpa Mac was off in the Pacific in WWII.

I’ve set up a category list in the sidebar to be a sort of index, so feel free to click on those names (or places or details) to see where else they come up. And I’ll be updating the family tree info when I get a chance. Until then, consider this your cheat sheet. Any questions?

The New York City years (Part 1) with bonus House & Edie mystery!

Way back in late 2012 I promised to post my photos from New York, where I’d visited places where the Jamesons and MacGregors (well, Margaret at least) had lived in the 1930s and 40s. So here’s 244 E. 48th Street in Manhattan. The building shows up in a photo album that belonged to (my great-great uncle) House Jameson and his wife. Edith:

2016-02-20 21.51.53 But since there are almost no notes or captions the album (shakes fist at ancestors ) I didn’t know this was the 48th Street place until I went there myself, using an address that I’d found for House in the 1930 census. And as it happened, it looked almost exactly the same:

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Obviously this was an ideal location for House and Edie, who were both performing in Broadway plays on a regular basis at the time (and House’s radio career might have started by then too).

But apparently, for a time, House’s brother and his family lived in the building too. Here’s the 1930 listing for all four of them—Malcolm and Mary (my great-grandparents), 13 year-old Vida, and 11 year-old Mac, my grandfather.

recordWhich is why the row of buildings across the street from the 244 building looked so familiar:

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Malcolm (my great-grandfather) and his mother-in-law, Anna Jones MacGregor (who must have been visiting)

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Mary (my great-grandmother), her daughter Vida, her sister Anna, and her mother.

The family posted for several photos at this spot. When I visited this street, I noticed  those ornaments between the windows on the top story of one of the buildings across the street, and they helped me confirm I was in the right place. Cool, huh?

According to the census record, Malcolm was working as a salesman for International Correspondence Schools at the time. He had retired from the Navy just a few years before for health reasons, and after working various jobs in Texas (I think), perhaps it seemed a good idea to join his younger brother in the city. I also found a brief mention of this time in a journal written in the 1990s by my grandmother (Mac’s wife), who said that Malcolm and Mary had originally come to New York with plans to open a Mexican restaurant. Really?

House had been in the city after graduating from Columbia in the late 1920s (except for the times he toured with theater companies around the US and Australia). I’ve found a couple of other Manhattan addresses for House, but in at least one case the entire block had been razed for office buildings. This block on East 48th is relatively unchanged, although the 244 building has since been rehabbed into a single-family home that sold for over four million dollars a few years ago. (It originally listed for $12M!) But at the time the Jamesons lived there the building had several units, with Malcolm and Mary and the kids in one apartment and House and Edie in another. At least that’s what it seems when you go by the 1930 Census, which visited Malcolm’s place one day, and House’s place a few weeks later.

Which brings me to the little mystery about House and Edie that arose from reading their census record! See below. (I know, it’s hard to read. You can look here, too. And here, and here.)

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You’ll notice that Edie is listed as head of household, and House is a “roomer.” Interesting! But weren’t they married to each other by then? We thought so, but the census lists “Edith Brown Taliaferro” as married and House as single. Oh my. Of course census records get stuff wrong all the time, and it’s possible that the census-taker didn’t know how else to list two people with two different last names (which House and Edie had for professional reasons) living in the same place. Or perhaps the place had been Edie’s first and her name was on the lease. (She was ten years older than House, after all.) Or maybe House and Edie were having a bit of fun with the census-taker. At any rate it makes me realize that we don’t seem to have a record or even a date for when House and Edie got hitched. Edie’s Wikipedia page says she married House in 1912, but that would have been when House was ten, so let’s assume that was wrong. Perhaps Edie married someone in 1912…maybe that’s where the odd “Brown” in her name in the census record (which I’ve never seen anywhere else) comes from. But I guess I’ll have to add House and Edie’s marriage record/date to the list of things I need to look for.

Stay tuned for more New York photos (at some point), including one photo—the only one I’ve ever found!—that shows Edie with other Jameson family members. And I bet you want to see more House and Edie, too, don’t you?

How’s this for starters? IMG_7477

Flash-forward with the MacGregor sisters

Remember these gals? My great-grandmother Mary and her four sisters.  When we last saw them they were little girls in white dresses in south Texas around 1900. Their mother was Anna Jones MacGregor (whose baby photo we saw in the last post) and their father was Dr. W.W. MacGregor (bearded wonder doctor and one-time superintendent of an insane asylum). It’s been a few years, and now the Sisters MacG have grown up into… young women in white dresses in south Texas.

(They were on the Mexico border, though, and it must have been hot. White probably was a good choice.)

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From left to right: Margaret, Mary, their mother (Anna Jones MacG), and Kathryn.

My guess is that these photos were taken around 1907 or 1908, with Mary in her late teens, Margaret around 13 or 14, and Kathryn around 12. (Was 15 the age girls graduated to longer skirts?)

Here’s Anna, who would have been just out of her teens, old enough to occasionally don black dresses and alarming corsets:

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Anna MacGregor and shadow of unknown photographer (Mary?)

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Anna, on right. (Dear God, that WAIST!)

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