Halloween - A Night to Torment your Children

Danny was not happy at being dressed up as Hedwig from Harry Potter, but the tail was just so cute!

Aah, boxes!  With no armholes!  I'm the cheese!

Trick-or-Treating.  Eating candy.  Little changes.  Although I do remember that when I was young and you went trick-or-treating it was always on Halloween.  None of this crap where the cities designate a day of the weekend to trick-or-treat so it doesn't interfere with school.  Nope.  And teachers that gave homework on Halloween were just plain wrong.  Most kids wouldn't do it anyway.  Although I was the kid that would trick-or-treat and then obsess until I got my homework done.

Ben just wasn't feeling the love that night

I also remember that when you went to a door you would knock, say "Trick-or-Treat", and then you would have to tell a joke.  Was that just a Hazleton, Pennsylvania thing or did other people do that too?  And it was trick-OR-treating.  Sometimes you got that house where the whole "treat" was the spooky haunted house they would put on.  Yeah, as little kids they were the ones to avoid if you were on a hunt-and-kill candy mission, but I have to admit that some were pretty cool too.

And if you wanted trick-or-treaters you would put your porch light on and turn it off if you ran out of candy or didn't want to be bothered.  Today, kids just bang on everyone's door, whether their lights are on or off.  And parents encourage it! (Boy do I sound like a grumpy old fart or what!?!?)

Trick-or-treating could be an expensive thing when you're pressed for money.  It's great to go out and get the free treats, but sometimes getting the costume wasn't so easy.  We were lucky.  My mom was incredibly crafty...after all she was an art major in college!  Homemade costumes!  I'm sure some kids didn't like them.  We did.

Trick-or-treating in Army barracks

When you're really little though you don't have much say as to what you're going to be.  You are at the mercy of your parents.  I have to say that as an adult with two little boys, I do enjoy getting (and sometimes making) costumes of their choice, but when they were little I loved sticking them in what I wanted to dress them up as!  One of the benefits of having kids!

Stop complaining!  I survived my childhood and now I get to torment you!  When you have kids, you can torment them, now let's get some candy!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

(A little fun break from my Royal Charter posts, but they'll return tomorrow!)

Our Star Wars Halloween

My sisters and I ready for some candy (I'm on the far left)

Danny was Darth Vader for his first Halloween.  The lightsaber apparently looked yummy!

Ben all dressed up.  The hubby didn't like this costume at all!

The ghost hat is a Halloween hand-me-down for all our kids!

Harry Potter Halloween (Danny got over the embarrassment)

The devil-hood is another hand-me-down for all our kids!

I feel like I'm auditioning for "A Christmas Story"

The Royal Charter - A Famous Shipwreck Forgotten Part 2

The South Australian Advertiser, 09JAN1860, pg3

Continuing on from yesterday's post.  The second part of the excerpt from the South Australian Advertiser (same date and page).  A well-written account of the events that led up to (but not including) the demise of the ship and it's unfortunate passengers.

"Last Tuesday night, when town and country were well abed, and let us hope not without thankfulness of heart, nor without having taken thought of 'all those who travel by land or sea;' - when even the rancid haunts of vice in London were emptying, and the homeless were slinking off to snatch forgetfulness somewhere out of reach of wind and rain: - in the dead hour of a desolate night, desolate enough among street [sic] lamps flickering in a clammy fog, more desolate still when a sickly moon peered dimly through a drift of ragged cloud, and the wind howled and moaned with a roar of rage and anguish - in that desolate night and that dead hour one of those terrible calamities which are remembered for centuries was hurrying near five hundred of our fellow creatures to sudden death at sea, after a safe and prosperous voyage of twelve thousand miles, within six hours of port, and within stonethrow of the long-wished-for land.  Heartrending and disastrous is the shipping intelligence of this week all round our coasts, but the wreck of the Royal Charter will be a melancholy fireside tale among our children's children.  If, indeed, what is called 'progress' be truly defined as an increasing dominion over time and space, the England, marching at the van, atones for her pre-eminence by many a hostage.  We talk of bridging seas by the size and speed of our ships, but every now and then we offer up costly sacrifices to avenge our triumphs, and correct our pride.

It would be easy for some glib interpreters of Providence to pronounce homilies on the fate of a ship laden with the root of all evil, and of men hasting to be rich; for it is certain that the Royal Charter had at least L500,000 on board, and that many of her passengers were returning from Australia with fortunes in their hands.  But this catastrophe may point, we think, a safer and more serviceable moral.  To mortal sight human destinies are at best a chaos, and it is not for mortal wisdom to presume to fabricate out of inexplicable chances a providential order of its own.  Here, for instance, was a ship touching at Queenstown, and landing 13 passengers, one of whom left his wife on board to pursue her voyage to Liverpool, and as it turned out, to meet death on the way; here were ten poor riggers, just returned from working a vessel to Cardiff, taken on board from a steam-tug in with a ship that had come all the way from Australia in safety.  Who will presume to judge?  'The one was taken and the other left.'  Let us be content to moralise more humbly and humanely on the fate of our fellow-creatures.  It were a miserable task, while the bodies of the poor castaway people are still awaiting Christian burial, to look about for whom to blame, when all but a score are beyond the reach of blame or praise.  It is easy for us to wonder and regret that the Royal Charter should ever have passed on from Queenstown and sailed up the Irish Channel without a pilot in wild and threatening weather - that without a pilot, and with a northerly gale coming on, she should have passed by Holyhead, and kept hugging a dead lee shore at night along the most dangerous line of all our coast.  Any one who knows that coast, or who has even glanced at a chart, cannot fail to be struck with consternation at the bare thought of such a ship as the Royal Charter keeping that Welsh land close on board in the worst of weather, night coming on, without a pilot, in the hope of finding one, and for the sake of saving a few hours at the close of an astonishingly rapid and successful passage."

What a writer.  What emotions in his writing.  We continue on tomorrow with his description of the destruction of the Royal Charter.

The Royal Charter - A Famous Shipwreck Forgotten Part 1

The South Australian Advertiser, 09JAN1860, pg3

I always find it incredibly interesting to see how tragedies were viewed during the time period in which they occurred.  This one is so gripping, I thought it appropriate to share during this blog series on the Royal Charter.  The article was taken from the Australian newspaper The South Australian Advertiser and published on January 9th, 1860.

Keep in mind that the Royal Charter was no ordinary ship.  It was its own modern-day miracle.  Cutting edge of the time.  It was a hybrid of sorts.  Instead of relying solely on sails which were at the mercy of the winds (or lack thereof), this ship could engage it's engine when winds were lacking.  It would have been highly desirable to travel on such a ship. 

Regardless of the ship traveled on, such a long journey was dangerous, but the sheer loss of life was, and is, incredible.  No woman or child survived this shipwreck.  I often wonder how my 3rd great grandmother got news of the wreck and how she was sure that her husband was one of the lost.  Did she write a letter?  Did she have a relative send one?  Did she assume when she heard nothing that he was dead?  To be widowed in 1859 with 2 young children and living in a coal patch town had to have been scary.  It had to have added to the misery.  Would she be turned out of the house that her husband built on company property?  How would she live and care for her children?  I do have some of these answers, but for now enjoy the gripping drama that unfolds (why doesn't Hollywood make this into a movie?):

"The Wreck of the Royal Charter.

[From the Home News.]

On the morning of the 27th October the Times published a brief telegram announcing the 'loss, on her way from Queenstown to Liverpool, of the Royal Charter, with over 400 passengers on board, of which number only about 20 were saved.'  It was not till about noon on the same day that this startling announcement was confirmed; and even then hopes were still cherished that it contained some element of exaggeration.  That so famous a ship, which had been telegraphed two days before as being off Queenstown after a most prosperous voyage from Melbourne, should have been utterly lost within two or three hours' sail from Liverpool, with an enormous freight of life and treasure, appeared a catastrophe so appalling in its magnitude and suddenness as to be all but incredible.  People ventured to hope that at least a large number of the passengers might have been safely landed at some point of the coast which did not possess the means of rapid communication; and that in a few hours more we should receive tidings of their rescue.  The hope was vain.  A mournful accumulation of authentic intelligence from the scene of the wreck proved ere long beyond the possibility of a doubt that the first announcement, instead of being an exaggeration, was actually an under statement of the disaster.  In another day, by putting together the various particulars supplied by the survivors, the newspapers were enabled to publish the following compendious narrative of one of the most astounding tragedies on record: -

After a splendid passage from Melbourne, accomplished in 58 days, and after having landed 13 passengers at Queenstown, and telegraphed her safe arrival to the owners, the Royal Charter made for Liverpool on the 25th of October.  She had sailed from Melbourne with 388 passengers on board, and a crew, including officers, of 112 persons.  After leaving Queenstown she took on board from a steam-tug 11 riggers who had been assisting in working a ship to Cardiff.  Thus she had now on board 498 persons.  Her cargo was small, consisting mainly of wool and skins.  A more important item of her freight was gold and specie, which at the lowest estimate is here put at L500,000.  On the evening of October 25, there was blowing from the E.N.E. a violent gale, which fell with full force on the ill-fated ship.  She arrived off Point Lynas at 6 o'clock that evening, and for several hours Captain Taylor continued throwing up signal rockets, in the hope of attracting the attention of a pilot.  None made his appearance.  The gale increased in violence; the ship was making leeway, and drifting gradually towards the beach.  It was pitch dark; no help was at hand.  The captain let go both anchors, but the gale had now increased to a hurricane, and had lashed the sea up to madness.  The chains parted, and not withstanding that the engines were worked at their full power, the Royal Charter continued to drift towards the shore.  At 3 a.m. she struck the rocks in four fathoms of water.  The passengers, a large portion of whom were women and children, had till  this moment no idea of the imminence of their peril.  The most perfect discipline and order prevailed.  The masts and riggings were cut adrift, but caused no relief, as the ship began to thump on the sharp-pointed rocks with fearful rapidity.  Shortly after she struck, the ship was thrown broadside on, perfectly upright upon the shelving stony beach, the head and stern lying due east and west, the former not being more than 20 yards from a projecting rock.  At this juncture one of the crew, a Maltese, named Joseph Rogers, nobly volunteered to struggle through the heavy surf and convey a rope on shore.  Though it was not believed by any one that danger was imminent, the captain gave the order, and Rogers ably fulfilled his duty.  A strong hawser was then passed and secured on shore, and to this was rigged a boatswain's chair.  While this was going on a fearful scene was being enacted in the saloon.  An attempt had been made by a Mr. Hodge, a clergyman, to perform a service; but the violent thumping of the vessel on the rocks, and the sea which poured into the cabin, rendered this impossible.  The passengers were collected here, and Captain Withers and Captain Taylor were endeavouring to allay their fears by the assurance that there was at any rate no immediate danger, when a succession of tremendous waves struck the vessel and absolutely broke her in half amidships.  Shortly afterwards the foremost portion was again torn in half, and the ship began to break up rapidly.  Several of the crew saved themselves by means of the hawser, while the remainder were hurled upon the rocks by the waves;  all the officers perished.  Captain Taylor was the last man seen alive on board.  He had lashed his body to a spar and was drowned.  The whole number saved out of the 498 persons on board was 39.

A number of stirring leading articles on the wreck of the Royal Charter soon appeared in all the journals.  Of these the most remarkable was one which appeared in the Daily News.  We extract it here in full, as it gives the most vivid picture we have yet seen of all the salient features of the terrible Catastrophe: - "

To be continued...

My Blogiversary - Remembering Why I Started

"The Royal Charter off Moelfre"
Image used with permission of E. D. Walker
http://www.edwalkermarine.com/

October 26th marks my 1 year Blogiversary.  It's hard to believe that it's been a whole year!  I'm very proud of my little blog and while I haven't come as far as I'd like to (certification is still a dream away), I have grown and hope that my journey continues in a positive path.

October 26th also marks another anniversary of sorts.  The anniversary of the shipwreck that took my 3rd great grandfather, Manus Maurice Boyle's life.  A shipwreck that was famous at the time, but one that we don't hear of much today (at least not in America).  Just like I commemorated the anniversary of the Great Peshtigo Fire with a week's worth of posts, I intend on doing the same for this.  The shipwreck of the Royal Charter.  Below is the first post I ever made on my blog.  It's where it all started and it's one of the reasons I began blogging.  I've merely updated it to reflect the current year.  Enjoy!

October 26, 2011 is the 152st anniversary of my great-great-great grandfather, Manus Maurice Boyle's, death in the shipwreck of the Royal Charter. He worked in the coal mines of northeastern Pennsylvania. He and his wife, Alice Monaghan, were both Irish immigrants and longed for a better life for their two daughters, Bridget Mary and Anna. He left Pennsylvania in September 1856 to go to Australia to mine for gold in hopes of a better future for his family. He was returning to his family from Australia in the autumn of 1859. The Royal Charter would have taken him back to Britain. No one knows what ship he was to board to return to America. No one knows what fortunes, if any, he was returning from Australia with. During the last leg of his journey to Liverpool a "hurricane" struck. There was no advanced warning. None existed prior to that date.

The winds that raged over 100 mph changed from East to North/Northeast and the bay (Moelfre Bay) which Captain Taylor had hoped would shelter them became the instrument of their demise. The anchors that had been weighed, snaped in the first hours of the morning of October 26th and the ship was repeatedly thrown against the rocks until it split and sank. Of more than 480 passengers and crew only 41 survived. No women or children were saved.

The valiant efforts of one of the crew, Joe Rogers, and the inhabitants of the Moelfre coast were what enabled even those 41 to be saved. The storm had caused damage to one of the Moelfre homes and as residents were repairing the roof in the early hours of the morning they saw the ship in peril. They woke the town and 28 local men made a human chain in the violent waters of the bay to attempt to rescue those aboard. Joe Rogers took a line from the ship and swam to shore, being turned back in the violent waves of the storm at least 3 times before reaching the men on shore. The rope was used in an attempt to bring those from the vessel ashore.

Sadly, many of the passengers on the ship jumped or were thrown overboard. The bulkiness of the clothes of the time coupled with the fact that many had money belts and pockets filled with gold inhibited their efforts to the deadliest of degrees. Had they abandoned their garments and treasure many more may have survived.

There was over 322,000 pounds (British monetary unit) of gold aboard the ship. This was the amount insured back in 1859 and does not include the gold the passengers kept on their persons. I do not know the equivalent in today's currency the gold would be valued at, but it would obviously be substantially higher. The large amount of money combined with the rumors of "good fortune" that surrounded the town after the wreck led to the shipwreck being called the Golden Wreck.

The village church of Saint Gallgo became the collection point for the bodies. The Reverends Stephen Roose Hughes and his brother Reverend Hugh Robert Hughes paid the local inhabitants to bring the bodies to the church, a difficult trek up the rocky shores to the church made monetary remuneration the only way to persuade the locals to take on the grim task. They saw to the burial of those killed and personally answered over 1000 letters they received begging a response regarding loved ones. The stress from this caused the Reverend Stephen Hughes' life to be cut short. He died a few years later.

The church at Saint Gallgo still exists today and each year remembers those lost in this tragedy. Monuments stand to remember those lost. A distant cousin of mine Debbie Fay Buch and her husband, Josh Buch, placed a memorial stone at Saint Gallgo Church in August 2004. It reads:

Manus Maurice Boyle
1833-1859
Never Recovered from the Royal Charter
Placed by the Fay Family
Hazleton, PA USA 2004

I don't sit around depressed over the fact that this is the anniversary of my ancestor's death. What would have happened had he come home with gold from Australia? My 2nd great grandmother, Anna Boyle, may never have met her husband, Martin Blanchfield, and I would never have been born. Sometimes good can come from tragedy. People's fortunes can improve or worsen causing them to make decisions that determine the outcome of their history and sometimes other people's histories. It does sadden me to know that Manus was never to hold his youngest daughter, Anna. She was born 2 months after he left for Australia. It saddens me to know that his last thoughts were most likely of a family that he would not see again in this world. Or perhaps his last thoughts were of a determination to survive and get back to them. A determination that was matched by the ferocity of the circumstances in which he found himself. It saddens me knowing that he did not die the "peaceful" death of drowning for the majority of those lost were broken on the rocks of the bay. The passengers and crew of the Royal Charter died so close to shore that even today the wreck can be seen below the surface of the waters from the bay's shoreline. Still there, resting peacefully below the water.

It is not everyone that can say their ancestor's demise was written about in books. I have read two that write of the Royal Charter. One by Alexander McKee, "The Golden Wreck: The Tragedy of the Royal Charter" is out of print, but it tells of the voyage from Australia to it's wreck, the recovery of the remains of the victims and the trial of the crew that survived. I have read the account of the shipwreck written by the great Charles Dickens (yes, I said Charles Dickens wrote about this tragedy!) in his book "The Uncommercial Traveller" (only about the first 20 or so pages of the book are dedicated to this wreck. It's a series of 34 books and this is in volume 24. The entire series tells of Dickens' travels as he IS the Uncommercial Traveller).

I take this time today to remember a man I never knew, but love nevertheless. As a genealogist it can be hard to convey to those that do not research their ancestry that while we may never have met these names that appear in our family trees, we feel a closeness that defies explanation.

Rest in Peace, Grandpa. You will be remembered by your many descendants.

Aaah How I've Missed You!

My posts have been scarce this past week.  In fact I think this has been the longest I've gone without posting, but this past week and weekend have been truly hectic!  I'm the PTA President and we had our Fall Carnival on Friday.  The chairperson and committee put on a spectacular event, but we were all more than a little tired by that evening!  The very next day it was time for Cub Scout camping with a haunted hayride thrown in.  I didn't camp, but I did go out for the day and then came home so my beagle could go outside!  Monday evening was the Pack awards ceremony and I'm the Awards Chair, so more work!

With all that finished I can get back to what I love.  And just in time since my blogiversary will be on Wednesday!  Until that post (and I can catch up on the 1000+ items in my Google Reader)...

Follow Friday - The News Edition (More or Less)

CNN posted about a trend that people will most likely see when researching their trees in the future in an article titled, "More Latinos Identify as Native American, Census Shows."  An interesting article, but I didn't consider it unexpected.  I was actually surprised it wasn't happening much sooner.

Genealogists/Family Historians tend to travel...a lot.  What apps do you use when you travel to make your trip run smoothly?  Brett Snyder has a blog "The Cranky Flier" which may interest many, but he also writes for CNN occasionally and his post on their news site, "Travel Apps That Really Help" was very good.

Jenn Woods at "Climbing My Family Tree One Branch at a Time" always has such great posts.  She recently posted about a murder that her ancestor gave testimony about.  Always interesting to read and very exciting!

Researching German ancestors?  Then you'll eventually need to dealing with German script and handwriting.  Nancy over at "My Ancestors and Me, and other relatives, too..." has a post for you!  A German genealogical must!

And wrapping it up are two videos.  The first a friend shared with me.  It was posted on Yahoo! News (it was from KCCI News in Iowa) and it was about a couple that were married for 72 years and they died holding hands.  Not to be morbid or anything...I just found it sweet.

The second just happened to start playing immediately after the previous story and was also from KCCI.  It was a story about Oak Grove Cemetery and the damage time has caused by eroding away a hillside and the graves ending up in a ravine.  Tim Schultz (an area landscaper) is looking to help rectify that situation by building a retaining wall, but the red tape is hard to get through.

Wedding Wednesday - Martin Blanchfield and Anna Boyle

As I wondered what I was going to post on this evening, I received an email from a cousin (thanks for the post idea, Rebecca!) with a great article published in the New York Times, published on February 26, 1875.  Why was this significant?  It was a story on a horrible collapse that occurred at St. Andrew's Church in New York City.  The same church that our ancestors, Martin Blanchfield and Anna Boyle, were married in less than a year later.

So I figured I'd post the marriage certificate that was sent to me a few years back from Saint Andrew's.  It's a transcription as you can see from the "19" being crossed out in the year and "18" being written.  I may transcribe the article at some point as well, but not today.  It is a tale of panic, and not something for a wedding!

Sacrament of Matrimony (transcribed from church records)

Martin and Anna Blanchfield nee Boyle were my 2nd great grandparents.  Martin was born in Ireland.  Anna in Pennsylvania.  Married in New York City at Saint Andrew's Church on January 9, 1976.  They would have twelve(-ish) children:

Mary, Alice (my great grandmother), Annie, William, Josephine, Lillian, Catherine, Joseph, and 4 children of unknown name/gender that are remembered as numbers in censuses.  We don't know if they were stillborn or died young, but they didn't live long enough to have their names recorded in a census.

Anna has always been dear to my heart, but what ancestor isn't?  You love them all, right?  As I approach my first blogiversary, I have been preparing a series of posts on what started my world of blogging and it happens to be an incident that took her father's life.  Anna is dear to me because she was born after her father left America to mine for gold in Australia, and he died on his way back.  A great sacrifice made by a man that wanted to bring a better life to his family.  Years away from his family in a great effort to try to escape the coal mines of Northeastern Pennsylvania.  That sacrifice was not to benefit them, however, and his youngest daughter would never know the arms of her father.