Friday, March 24, 2017

Diseases That Plagued Our Ancestors

Title page of Robley Dunglison's
medical dictionary
In 1867, Ohio's county probate courts began to record every death in the county as a single line entry in a bound volume called a register. This was the method for keeping death records until December 19, 1908 when deaths were recorded by the Ohio Department of Health in certificate form.

You can look at images of the 1867-December 18, 1908 death records in the Probate Clerk's office at the courthouse in Zanesville. Because the death register is essentially a ledger, you see many entries on a single page--and are likely to see at least one unfamiliar cause of death on a page.

Our ancestors lived with and sometimes died of conditions and diseases that no longer plague us, thanks to medical advances. But they also suffered from health problems and diseases that are still around--we just might not recognize the disease names our ancestors used. For example, I had one ancestor who died of scirrhous pylorus (cancerous tumor of the stomach), another who suffered and then died from apoplexy (paralyzing stroke), and another whose sister died of "the wasting disease", also known as consumption (pulmonary tuberculosis).

1842 medical article about my g-g-g
grandfather, William Burdett
Thanks to the internet, we can "translate" the old medical terms into something recognizable. If you're interested in more in-depth information (and in a resource probably known to your ancestor's physician) you might want a copy of Dunglison's Dictionary of Medical Science, published in 1865. It's a collection of medical terms, anatomy, chemistry, Latin names for diseases, diagnoses, treatments, prognoses, and even suggestions for American and European health spas where your ancestor might go to "take the waters" and recuperate from whatever was ailing her.


Dunglison's has been scanned and can be purchased as a CD or download from Archive CD Books USA.










Sunday, March 12, 2017

Potters Here, There, and Everywhere

Muskingum County is famous for its pottery, and the products of companies such as Weller, Hull, and McCoy are much sought after by collectors.

George Rambo, "Farmer & Potter",
operated a bluebird pottery.
Before the big manufacturers, though, Muskingum County, rich in clay soil, was rich in small, usually family-run, potteries. These potteries often employed only two or three people, and consequently, their production was low. James L. Murphy, who compiled a checklist of 19th-century Muskingum County potteries, believed the term "bluebird" referred to the time of year these potteries produced most of their wares---the warmer months when bluebirds returned to the county. Some, however, believe the term refers to the blue designs often used to decorate the pottery. Whatever the origin of the term, there were lots of bluebird potteries. Murphy found that 190 of these small potteries existed in Muskingum County between 1850-1880. If you've looked at U.S. censuses taken in the county during those years, and especially if you've researched Newton, Clay, and Hopewell townships, you would have seen person after person whose occupation was "potter", "journeyman potter", or "farmer & potter" like George Rambo, my 3-greats grandfather. George's daughter Mary Jane, married Andrew Jackson Wilson, another bluebird potter; Mary and Andrew were my great-great grandparents.

Shards of pottery from site of the A. J. Wilson Pottery. Note
the blue painted decoration on two of the pieces.
Bluebird potteries produced practical, utilitarian pottery items for every-day use. If the pottery were decorated, it was almost always a very simple design done in blue paint, or a design etched in the clay before it was fired. There might be a maker's mark somewhere on the object. Crocks and jars of all sizes seemed to be the type of object most produced, although any household object that could be fashioned from clay was possible. I once saw a sieve made from clay; it wasn't terribly attractive, but you could see it would be serviceable.

Andrew Jackson Wilson
My great-great grandfather's business, the A. J. Wilson Pottery, is shown on an 1866 map of Newton Township. Finding the site present-day, however, was a bit tricky, but superimposing the 1866 map onto a Google Earth view of the area made it possible to locate Andrew's pottery. Nothing is visible now; the area is overgrown with tall grass. But when you walk around the site, you find yourself walking on hundreds of pottery shards and lumps of fired clay. Even though there were only broken pieces, it was exciting to hold in my hands the bits of pottery crafted by Great-great Grandfather Andrew and his son-in-law, Great Grandfather, Warren McLean (see 3/3/17 post). Being a collector of family artifacts, I, of course, brought a few pieces home.
Lump of fired potter's clay. Could the
finger impressions be A. J. Wilson's?















For more information, see  James L. Murphy's Checklist of 19th Century Bluebird Potters and Potteries in Muskingum County, Ohio, edited by Jeff Carskadden and Richard Gartley. Published 2014 by Muskingum Valley Archaeological Survey, Zanesville, Ohio.

Friday, March 3, 2017

Using Facts to Imagine Our Ancestors


Doing genealogy is about satisfying curiosity. It often begins with the purpose of discovering who our direct-line ancestors are, as far back as possible. To the names we try to attach significant dates (birth, marriage, death) and the locations where those events took place. But doing genealogy can be, and should be, so much more than drawing a straight line from one generation to another. Our research should prompt us to ask, "What was this person like?"

Warren McLean
I think of genealogy as an egg hunt, careful detective work, and a game of tag all rolled into one. Genealogy begins with our tracking down as many facts about a life as can be found, not just those three "vital" records mentioned above. Using the facts, we connect the ancestor to other people--family, of course, and friends. We then use our knowledge of history to contextualize those facts and connections. Finally, we employ our knowledge and experience of human behavior to imagine the ancestor's response(s) to events and people. Although we can never know for certain whether or not we've imagined correctly, thoughtful, educated guessing can add dimension to an ancestor, and make her come alive for us.

At the age of 17, my great-grandfather, Warren McLean of White Cottage, enlisted in Co. B of the 78th Ohio Volunteer Infantry Regiment. We know from Civil War memoirs and biographies that many boys Warren's age enlisted not just to serve the Union cause, but also to get away from the daily routine of farm life, and have a great adventure.

Warren's son,
Wade Hampton McLean
Military service documents show that Warren had an adventure all right. He was with his regiment at the ferocious Battle of Atlanta, and participated in Sherman's infamous March to the Sea, which then continued up through the Carolinas. His pension file details slogging bootless for days through South Carolina swamps. Warren did his duty, served honorably, and was mustered out with his company as a Corporal on July 11, 1865 at Louisville, Kentucky. He made his way back to White Cottage, married Arena Wilson, fathered 10 children, and supported his family as a potter.

Those are some of the facts of Warren's life. There are some post-war facts, however, that enable me to imagine how Warren felt about war, and because of them, I suspect Great-grandfather didn't like being a soldier, and didn't relish reminiscing with old comrades about the heat of battle or the tedium of camp life. The minutes of the meetings of a local G.A.R. post, for example, show Warren attended just one meeting, but never joined. When he died, his obituary, unlike the obituaries of many who served during the war, didn't mention any military service. Finally, a Muskingum County birth record leads me to believe Great-grandfather not only didn't enjoy soldiering, but disdained the entire war experience. Why else did he name his youngest son after a Confederate general? Unless, of course, he had a very wry sense of humor.