Lillian E. Shepard Bowers

Sometimes, when you (and I hate this phrase) fall down the rabbit hole, who can't just stop with the search for one person. My most recent post on Jason G. Shepard brought me to a previously unknown daughter- Lillian Estelle (or Estella), who is a local heroine in her own right. (My apologies for making you wait so long for her story!)

Lillian was born on March 10, 1869 in West Hartford, CT and by the time she was 7 years old, her father had disappeared with an arrest warrant hanging over him for forgery. It seems that in the 1880 census, Lillian may have been living with maternal relatives in West Hartford. Unfortunately, there is little information about her life available until her marriage. This is generally true for many women in the 19th and 20th centuries, and the (almost complete) loss of the 1890 census will always be a barrier to research. Men's accomplishments are highly touted, while women's are often in the guise of  "Mrs. Husband's First and Last Name".

In 1892, Lillian graduated from Smith College in Northampton, MA. 

On May 12, 1897, Lillian married Herbert O. Bowers, who would go on to be a judge in the Manchester area. They would have two sons, Sherwood and Raymond, one of whom would become the mayor of Manchester in the 1950s.

In the summer of 1902, Lillian and her husband spent a week at the White Beach House (see below) and must have immediately left on an "extended tour through Canada" for two weeks. The couple seems to have traveled extensively, as they also toured the Gulf of Mexico

The White Beach House, a beautiful coastal Connecticut hotel.

The S.S. Stephano, upon which the Bowers toured the Gulf of Mexico. From CardCow.com

Lillian was an educated woman, and as such was part of many different clubs and organizations. She was the President of the Cosmopolitan Club of South Manchester, which hosted a number of meetings discussing the history of Connecticut. She is even listed as the leader of the Life, Love, and Truth Society in the 1927 Who's Who In Occultism: New Thought Psychism and Spiritualism.

 

Later, she became the Secretary of the Board of Education and the Director of the local library. She is best known for her chairmanship of the Manchester School Board and the Bowers School, which memorializes both Lillian and her husband Herbert's deep interest in education.

 

After a full life, Lillian passed away in 1954 and is buried beside her husband in the Buckland Cemetery in Manchester, CT. Bowers School is located at 141 Princeton Street.

 

I would love to fill in more of Lillian's life, but I don't have access to the Hartford Courant from 1922-1992, during which much of Lillian's career took place! I hope to be able learn more about her.

 

Welcome!

I created this blog to help me share some of the weird and fascinating stories of the people of the past. I tend to find random people (usually from the 19th century) and track down as much information about them as I possibly can. Most of them are currently from West Hartford, Connecticut, because I worked at the Historical Society there and discovered many of them while doing research for a cemetery tour called West Hartford Hauntings. If you have the chance, you should buy tickets and go. It's held each October, and is still pretty awesome even though I'm no longer involved ;).

So I discovered and wrote about the stories of something like 50 people from in and around West Hartford. I intend to expand my history stalking to other places and eras, but I'm working with what I have for the moment.

Bear with me as I get used this new format (i.e. not a script, academic paper, press release, etc.) and feel free to comment or ask questions about the people I've researched. And if you're a descendant of any of these people, or have more information or images (my Holy Grail is a photo of Mary Elizabeth Wentworth Bissell Estey), please tell me, as I would love to learn more!

Jason G. Shepard: Father and Forger

In 1900, J.G. Shepard (b. 1825 in Connecticut) was listed as living in Salina, Kansas with the J.E. Whittier family of that town. He was 75 years old.

Why is this an interesting tidbit? Because all lives are interesting, whatever we may think! J.G. Shepard was, as most of my subjects are, from West Hartford, Connecticut. He was born in Bloomfield and married Catharine "Kate" Griswold on 12 September 1853. They owned a seemingly successful milk farm with 250 acres of land, nearly 40 cows, and an income of about $3000 per year in 1870.

So why is it that 30 years later, he was in Kansas living with a completely different group of people?

Jason and Kate had at least four sons and one daughter during their twenty-year marriage, but only one, their daughter Lillian, lived to adulthood (she will be the subject of my next post). The family lost Jason George Jr. at age 8 in 1867, Willis Eugene at age 2 in 1864, Frank Howard at age 1 in 1866, and John as an infant in 1873. Kate also died in 1873 just one week after the birth of John.

Jason was an important individual in the town, and at different times was the Chairman of the Milkman's Committee, the President of the Republicans of West Hartford, and presided over a celebration of Union victories in 1865. In addition, in 1855, the Courant noted that,

Mr. J.G. Shepard of West Hartfordinforms us that he cut a stalk of corn from his field which was fourteen feet and eight inches high. There were two ears of corn on the stalk. This beats Bristol by some 8 inches. 

Nutmeggers of the 19th century were incredibly proud of their agricultural feats!

While he was a man about town, Jason Shepard also had issues of his own. It seems that the panic of 1873 (and most likely the deaths of his wife and son) had an extremely negative effect on his farm. There was an extreme economic downturn that lasted for several years, during which is seems that Jason racked up some debt.

On April 3, 1976, an article appeared in the Courant entitled, "A Forger Absconds". On March 25, he apparently drove into Hartford and left his team and cart at a livery stable, purchased a couple of shirts, and hopped a train. It wasn't until several days later that a family member arrived in Hartford and recovered the team of horses. At that time, they realized that Jason had, "left town to escape his creditors." While it seemed that the farm had been doing well, Jason had been borrowing money to repay others.

It was apparently known for some time that he was "in great financial embarrassment", but that Saturday, the banks finally realized that he had forged over $800 worth of notes to pay his creditors- hence his disappearing act. Despite mortgaging the farm for $18,000, there was little left to pay those whom he owed money.

The Courant summed up the article with the following:

Mr. Shepard was well regarded as a neighbor and christian gentleman in West Hartford. He was well known in the city, having been a milk peddler for some twenty years. In his youth, he entered Yale college, but his health failed and he negotiated for his farm in West Hartford, borrowing capital to do do, and has not succeeded in relieving himself of that burden. He is not regarded as a naturally bad man, but rather a victim of adversity.

At the time of his disappearance, Jason had one daughter, Lillian, whom it seems was raised by relatives thereafter.

The gravestone of Jason G. Shepard and his family. From findagrave.com, photo by C. Greer.

Mr. and Mrs. Patrick Flanigan

Patrick Flanigan and his wife Mary unfortunately died at nearly the same age in almost exactly the same way in almost exactly the same location. The only thing? They died five years apart.

According to census and other records, Patrick was born around 1843 in Ireland. When he arrived in the US is unknown, but he was living in Brooklyn, NY when he enlisted in the Union army on August 22, 1862. (See Arthur DeNeufville Talcott for more information about a soldier's experiences in the war.) You can learn more about his NY Infantry Regiment here. Patrick made it safely through the war, although he was wounded and recovered in June of 1864 in Cold Harbor, VA. He mustered out in September of 1865, having been listed as sick since March of that year.

Chesapeake Hospital, Hampton, VA where Patrick Flanigan may have spent many months at the end of the Civil War recovering from illness.

After mustering out, Patrick married a woman named Mary and within a year, they had a daughter Mary. In 1870, the family lived in Hartford, CT and had grown to include daughter Mary (age 4) and son Edward (age 2). I did not conduct a more thorough search on this period, as the majority of the story is about Patrick and Mary's deaths. By 1880, Patrick and Mary had added three other daughters to the fold. They were called Josie, Anna, and Kate in the 1880 census. 

Around 1893, Patrick and Mary moved to West Hartford and Patrick was working at "the shop of Frank A. Knox" on the evening of March 23, 1898. Patrick apparently had worked around town as an assistant (in 1870 and 1880 he was listed as a house carpenter and therefore could have done any number of useful tasks). 

The next morning, Patrick's body was found lying along the train track that ran along what is now New Park Avenue. He was found across from Charter Oak Park, which was at the time a racetrack and amusement park. The details of the discovery are graphic and were reported by the Hartford Courant as follows:

"[The body] was cut in two across the stomach. The man's legs were cut almost to bits. The top of his head was broken in and his brains were scattered for some distance along the track... The man's face was not bruised [and] he wore a Grand Army button on the lapel of his coat." The paper goes on to say that "The body was identified by Mr. Flanigan's wife."

Mr. Flanigan was later laid to rest at the St. Benedict Cemetery in Bloomfield, CT. 

Five years later, on December 1, 1903, a woman's body was found at nearly the same place along the train tracks across from Charter Oak Park. It was discovered to be Patrick's wife, Mary Flanigan. it seems that she had been hit by a train on the way home from her daughter's home and had taken a local trolley. It seems to have been assumed that she was crossing the tracks after leaving the trolley and was hit by a train between about 5 and 8 p.m. At that time of year, the city is nearly dark by 5 p.m. and she may not have been seen at all by the train that hit her. 

While the article does not describe the state of Mary's body in detail, she was described as having been badly cut up with broken ribs and a badly broken left arm. All trains that had traveled along the route were subject to examination to find which engine had hit her and when. 

The Courant noted that "It is a remarkable fact that Mrs. Flannigan's husband, Patrick, was killed in the same manner only a short distance west of the same spot, about four years ago. He was crossing the tracks on his way home." Mrs. Flanigan was buried beside her husband at St. Benedict Cemetery. 

 

Cincinnati and the Cholera Epidemic of 1849

Cincinnati in 1841 with the Miami and Erie Canal in the foreground

By Klauprech & Menzel -- Printer Of plates

Since moving to Cincinnati last year, I've been taking time to do some research on the city and its environs. Since I'm always looking for a great story, the 1849 cholera epidemic caught my eye. This was the third major cholera epidemic of the 19th century and began in Russia. By the 1840s, travel was relatively easy (compared to the previous century). Steamships had been traversing the Atlantic for nearly two decades and had been making their way along rivers for nearly four decades.

The Alex Scott, Built 1842, Jeffersonville, IN

The epidemic spread across Europe and made its way to the British Isles. The Irish were especially hard hit, since many had already been seriously weakened by the potato famine. Those that could afford to boarded ships and flooded into American ports- especially New York City and New Orleans. Cholera thrives in humans and easily spread in the dirty and crowded ships.

If you don't know much about cholera (like me), here is a brief description from the CDC:

Cholera is an acute, diarrheal illness caused by infection of the intestine with the toxigenic bacterium Vibrio cholerae serogroup O1 or O139. An estimated 2.9 million cases and 95,000 deaths occur each year around the world. The infection is often mild or without symptoms, but can sometimes be severe. Approximately one in 10 (10%) infected persons will have severe disease characterized by profuse watery diarrhea, vomiting, and leg cramps. In these people, rapid loss of body fluids leads to dehydration and shock. Without treatment, death can occur within hours.

Imagine traveling in the cramped, dark hold of a ship with hundreds of other people. Clean water would be lacking, and bathroom facilities would be nearly nonexistent. The cholera bacteria made these ships into floating colonies of their own and took the opportunity to spread across the United States once they hit land.

In 1849, Cincinnati, Ohio was a city of over 115,000 residents. Located across the Ohio River from Kentucky, it is the most southwestern city in the state and abuts Indiana. The Ohio River creates the southern borders of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois and merges with the Mississippi River near the intersection of Kentucky, Illinois, and Missouri. (For a great map, click here).

Cincinnati’s nearly direct connection to New Orleans (and the Great Lakes to the north via canals) made it an important center for imports and exports- including people. In fact, between 1840 and 1850, the population had risen from 46,000 to 115,000.

1864 Mitchell Map of Cincinnati, Ohio

In the 19th century it was easy to blame many of the country’s problems on immigrants*. At that time, the Germans and Irish had massive targets on their backs and it was easy to blame them for epidemics. At the time, Americans were especially anti-Catholic. In St. Louis, nearly 4/5 of the people who died from cholera were Catholic. This shows just how low-income Catholics were. While hospitals did see many more foreign-born patients during the epidemic, these numbers are misleading. Most of the middle- and upper-class were able to afford to stay at home and have a physician visit them there.

While I was researching a 1912 strike in my hometown, I learned just how terrible the conditions of immigrant homes could be. This is an excerpt from that paper. I could be discussing conditions in nearly any city in America at the time.

A New York State commission’s final report found that the standard of living on the South Side of the Mohawk River in Little Falls was such that, “existing conditions present a problem which is of public concern, and therefore demands further investigation. The area was overcrowded with 1,178 people living in 493 rooms and offered few conveniences. “Water closets” were few and far between and were often located in basements and shared by neighbors. Many homes had no water connection, sewage was let directly into local streams, and cellars were filled with waste, “giving rise to foul and unhealthful odors”. “The walls and ceilings are constantly damp and unsanitary, keeping the air of the room chilled and soggy”. 

While I discussed tuberculosis in this paper, these are the perfect conditions for a cholera outbreak.



To be continued…



The Cholera Years: The United States in 1832, 1849, and 1866 Charles E. Rosenberg
http://www.ph.ucla.edu/epi/Snow/pandemic1846-63.html
https://www.cdc.gov/cholera/general/index.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steamship (yeah, I use it! But I follow up with their sources)





*My family came from Slovakia in the late 19th century and they were targets at the time. Most likely, if you are an American, no matter whence your family came, they were at one time targets of hatred and prejudice. I hope that the people of our country will remember that as we fight against the same hatred and prejudice that is occurring now. Visit https://immigrantarchiveproject.org/ to find out what you can do to help.

Albert F. Thompson

When I saw that Luther Thompson's brother had died in the Civil War, in Baton Rouge, LA no less, I had to learn more. Most New Englanders tend to that important battles were fought so far south in the War Between the States. The Siege of Port Hudson occurred between May and July 1863 and was basically a battle to win control of the Mississippi River.

This is an exceptional map offered by the Library of Congress. Open it up in another window to follow along with Albert's journey. In addition, I have a Google map available with most of the locations posted in order. 

Like many of Connecticut's men, Albert Thompson mustered on November 11, 1862. Like Arthur Talcott, Albert joined up after President Lincoln asked for 100,000 volunteers to fight in the war. He had just celebrated his 19th birthday. Albert and his compatriots gathered at the what is now the Old State House in Hartford. Samuel K. Ellis of Company G wrote of his experience 50 years after the fact, remembering that they arrived on September 8th to find not tents, but barracks that "resembled the cow sheds..." They remained here until mid-November when they boarded a steamer and headed down the Connecticut River to Long Island. The accommodations on L.I. were worse, with their tents pitched and real shelter to be found. Ellis wrote, "the life of a soldier is tedious and wearisome." 

On November 14, the 25th boarded a ship and began their journey south. Their orders were to put in a Ship Island off the coast of Louisiana near the mouth of the Mississippi River. They arrived on December 14. Ellis wrote "We arrived at Ship Island at noon and found about the most God forsaken miserable hole, man ever got into. The sand was ankle deep everywhere."

They continued up the Mississippi to New Orleans where they "got our fill of oranges and victuals" and finally ended up at Camp Parapet. Life in the Louisiana camp was full of drilling and inspections, and the weather made unexpected changes daily. Ellis wrote, “Following every rain-storm it cleared intensely cold for several days; then it became hot again; next we had another storm to subdue the intense heat. I don’t think these sudden changed agreed with the men, for we can a large number on the sick list.” On a visit to the hospital, he saw “the thin and wasted sufferers…many of them stricken down in their strength by swamp fever.”

It seems that the 25th did some waiting around and training (and getting sick) from December until March 10, 1863. At that time, they were sent in advance of a major column of soldiers to build earthworks and a bridge across the Bayou Sara (see top left of LOC map). During their time here, the men were part of a failed attempt to distract the Confederate garrison for long enough to allow several Union ships to pass unmolested. The land assault never occurred and only two ships were able to pass. The men of the 25^th sat by and witnessed the burning of the 22-year-old Confederate frigate Mississippi.

Once the main column of soldiers arrived, the 25th headed south to Baton Rouge where they set up at the aptly named Camp Misery. This break was short, and they soon marched amid frequent skirmishes to their first real battle- The Battle of Irish Bend (or the Battle of Nerson's Woods or the Battle of Franklin). Here, on April 14, the regiment had 96 casualties out of the 350 that were involved. Ellis wrote, “Our regiment suffered severely. For about two hours we were under a hot fire entirely unsupported. We went into the fight with 380 men and lost 83 killed and wounded and 14 missing.”

From Harper's Weekly

After this fierce battle, the 25^th marched on for several days through rain, swampland, and mud, skirmishing with the Confederates on occasion. By the time they were given orders to “advance as skirmishers” on May 23^rd, the men were worn out. They had to break a path through thorns, fields, water, vines, and bushes, and according to Ellis, “many a strong man gave out with fatigue and exhaustion.” The siege on Port Hudson had begun.

If you take a look at the Google map, you can see that Port Hudson is a highly advantageous location for an army. It was at a sharp and narrow bend in the river and the Confederate army was situated on a strong rise- the perfect defensible position.

Over the next weeks, worn out and almost constantly on the front lines, the 25^th lost many men. The regiment had been in a nearly constant battle for over a month, and wouldn’t get a break anytime soon. On May 27^th, a coordinated effort by General Banks and his army was meant to break through Confederate defenses and take Port Hudson once and for all. This attack is summed up by Ellis.

          The valley was thick with felled trees, and heavy underbrush, while thick and black rolled the battle-smoke. There was a hill on our left, strongly entrenched and from here loomed a big gun… It was here that we had a taste of real war in all its horrors. It was a sort of floating panorama that passed before me, a hideous dream. There was a roaring and crashing of artillery, bursting shells and the rattle of muskets… there were men dropping here and there…

From Harper's Weekly

Due to unreliable leaders and an uncoordinated army, nearly 1,600 men were wounded and over 300 were killed. The failed attack was a huge blow to Union morale.

A similarly unsuccessful attack took place on June 14, wherein nearly 2,000 more men were wounded or killed. Most likely, this is the battle in which Albert Thompson was injured. The assault was a mess of confusion, with soldiers ordered forward, ordered back, and ordered to halt. Men were struck with sunstroke which killed several of them. Others were struck and “after the whizzing of the bullets… had died away, all was still but the groans that could be heard upon the bloody battlefield.” Men who were wounded or ill were brought nearby hospitals and field hospitals. Schools and colleges that had closed due to the war were popular locations. Like most victims of the Civil War, more soldiers died from disease and exposure during the Siege of Port Hudson than from battle wounds.

Albert Thompson died on June 19, 1863. No information about how he died was found. Sadly, Albert’s family most likely found out about his death nearly six months later. The Hartford Courant and Hartford Weekly Times printed dozens of obituaries and memorials from Port Hudson in their January 1864 issues.

The 48 day Siege of Port Hudson finally ended on July 9, 1862 when the Confederates finally ran out of supplies. The Mississippi River was open to the Union. This massive siege changed the course of the war.

Sources:

http://www.archive.org/stream/enlistmentcasual00horarich#page/732/mode/1up

https://www.loc.gov/resource/gvhs01.vhs00139/

https://www.nps.gov/nr/twhp/wwwlps/lessons/71hudson/71hudson.htm

http://www.historicmapworks.com/Map/US/65350/Port+Hudson+1863c+Siege+Map+10x12/Port+Hudson+1863+Siege+Map/Louisiana/

The Twenty-fifth Regiment, Connecticut Volunteers in the War of the ...

The Thompson Murder: The Trial

This is the continuation of a previous post. 

THE FARMINGTON MURDER

Examination of Moisture and Smith—

They are Held for Trial

The trial of Henry Smith and Theodore Moister for the murder of Luther G. Thompson began on January 8, 1867 in Farmington, CT. They had been held in a local jail for week after their arrest. The courtroom was crowded, and the men were represented by S.F. Jones and Mr. Cowles.

During the following discussion, we have to remember that the Thompson women had been through a traumatic event which had taken place two and a half months before.

When she came to the stand, Mrs. Thompson’s testimony was confused and confusing. The Times wrote in a sort of short-hand which makes it difficult to parse out the actual testimony. Instead of assuming she was speaking of the same person in each context, I’m going to call them the walking man (the one who passed by the house on Saturday afternoon), the caller (the one who knocked and asked for assistance Saturday evening), and Smith. She seems to have had little to no knowledge about Moister.

Mrs. Thompson testified that on the afternoon of the murder, the Thompson family had seen a man walk up the hill by their house and back down again. She said that the walking man was about the same size as the caller; and noted that the walking man had a round top hat and a black coat and she believed him to be Smith, who she pointed out in the courtroom. She also believed that she had never seen the walking man before that Saturday, but did see him on Sunday when the police brought him to her house and asked if she and Mary recognized him as the caller.

She was convinced that she had never seen the walking man before Saturday afternoon. She saw him from far away and noticed that he had light blonde hair. The walking man was also about the same height as Smith, and Smith’s height was about the same as the caller. She further described the walking man’s clothing, saying he wore a loose overcoat, dark pants, and a round-top hat. She though she recognized the coat Smith wore on Sunday as the same as the walking man’s.

Mrs. Thompson explained, in an incredible roundabout way that in her mind the walking man was Smith; that the walking man, Smith, and the caller were the same size; and that all three wore similar clothing. Below, I have added a couple of fashion plates from Harper’s Bazaar from this decade. If you saw one of these men from afar, would you recognize them when close up?

While Mrs. Thompson later thought she recognized Smith as the walking man, on the day the police brought him to her home she told the police she did not recognize him.   

Luther’s sister Mary testified next. Her testimony is less convoluted than her mother’s, but still somewhat unconvincing. She claimed that she saw the caller face-on and that “Smith is the man” who came to their door asking for assistance with his wagon. She recognized his voice, face, and clothing. She also noted that the walking man was the same size as Smith and that he had on a large black coat and round top hat, just as her mother testified the walking man wore.

While this testimony seems damning, the rest of her statement loses steam. On Sunday, she did see Smith at her house. “I think he was the same man that called in the evening [but] did not tell [the police] it was the same man[.] [I] think I then had a little doubt.” She then goes on to say that at an examination three weeks after the murder she “recognized [Smith’s] voice” as that of the caller. The day after the murder, neither woman mentioned that they recognized Smith as the caller or the strange, yet apparently memorable walking man. Why would they keep quiet on such an important detail?

Henry Hawley, one of the neighbors who was called upon to search for the body, testified next. Hawley discussed the placement of the body, the state of the road, and the nature of the traffic that went by on the evening of the murder. The most pertinent information was that two men in a wagon stopped, offered no help, and answered the man’s inquiries in an evasive manner.

Both Hawley and selectman Winthrop Wadsworth mentioned the wagon tracks near the body, saying that they had similar measurements (but not exactly the same) to a wagon that Moister and Smith owned.

Wadsworth continued the next morning. His testimony included a lengthy statement on the dress of Moister and Smith, especially that which they wore on Sunday to the Thompson’s house. Several others were called to discuss the events in the area on the night of the murder, most of which were mentioned earlier.

The judge in the case found just cause and bound the men in the Hartford jail until a March jury trial could be scheduled. Moister and Smith languished in jail until April 2, 1867, when the Superior Court addressed the crime. After a full day of listening to the same witnesses giving the same testimony as the previous trial, State Attorney Hubbard stated, “he did not consider the body of evidence against the prisoners of such weight as to make it worth while to refer it to the decision of the jury.” The case was nolled*.

Moister and Smith went free.

Let me know in the comments what you think of the results!

*nolle prosequi. (no-lay pro-say-kwee) n. Latin for "we shall no longer prosecute," which is a declaration made to the judge by a prosecutor in a criminal case (or by a plaintiff in a civil lawsuit) either before or during trial, meaning the case against the defendant is being dropped.