Resuming the Story of W. B. Rogers

General Ambrose Burnside

If you know your American Civil War history, you know that General Burnside has by now assumed command of Union forces after McClellan failed to act. Wikipedia yielded some very interesting material about Ambrose Burnside. He was left at the altar by a woman who later became a notorious Confederate spy. He served in Congress and as a state governor. Of course, this is not why all of us remember him. He was noted for his unusual facial hair joining  his mustache to the hair on the sides of his head. These became known at the time as "burnsides" but later the syllables were reversed. We call them "sideburns".
W. B. and his comrades are on the march. They know something is coming, but not quite what. He mentions "chasing the Rebs", which was what they were doing. I'm wondering if the miniatures he mentions were what was in the little "fairy book" I no longer have. It was full of photos, but not one had any writing on it to identify the people.

Camp Forbes       Near Waterford Virginia          Oct 31/62

Dear Wife

I will write a few more lines. I am well today. We marched from the camp where I wrote last the day before yesterday. We started about one o’clock and marched until after dark and camped until morning and then we marched across the road, a low road where we are now. We may be called to march again. We have to be ready to march at any moment. The whole army seems to be on the move and no one knows where we are going or what is to be done except the highest officers. There is a great army moving into Virginia. The regiment that Doc Rood is in is located near. I saw him yesterday to speak to him. I saw him in our camp this morning. He looked rather feeble. He is going to resign. The Holden boys are well except A Tucker. He has not been very well since we left home. I heard that Wm Perry was dead and so they fall one after another. There has been one who died in our Company the three in our regiment but the health of our regiment has been pretty good considering our exposure. Capt. Bailey was left behind sick and Col. Bowman was left behind sick but has come up with the regiment but he is not able to do duty. I feel very anxious to hear from you. It has been a week since I had a letter. This is the third one. I have written since I received one. We have not been able to get that box yet, but hope to soon. We heard that all things sent my express were stopped at Washington without an order from the Quarter Master of each regiment. We have sent an order and presume it is at Harper’s Ferry now and it may be forward the next time our train goes there. I shall be very glad to get them although I have not suffered much yet for the want of the things. It is very pleasant weather again but it begins to look like autumn and will soon be cold if we don’t go south. I suppose you begin to think about Thanksgiving. I wish I could be

At home I think I could raise my heart to God with thanksgiving. Clapp talks of coming home to spend Thanksgiving. Oh if I could see you and the children it would be a great cause for Thanksgiving. I can but think that I shall be permitted to come back to you before many months but God only knows but it is the greatest comfort I have at present to receive a letter from you. I hope all my friends will grant me that comfort. O dear wife write all the particulars just how you feel and how are you getting along. I know your burdens are very great and perhaps I done wrong in leaving you so but I hope God will sustain you. No man has left more behind. I have not much news to write that is interesting. Old Virginia is a beautiful country. It is excellent soil if it could be cultivated by some New England men it would be the most beautiful country that could be imagined but the effects of War are terrible upon every thing in this vicinity. I must bid you good bye for it is getting time for a dress parade. May God’s blessing rest upon you Dearest Wife.

                                                                                                W B Rogers

Camp Forbes    Virginia                                                                                  Nov 4 /62

Dear Wife

We are on the march again. I have a few moments and thought I would improve it by writing to my dearest earthly friend. We have marched some 25 or 30 miles the last two days. I have born the march pretty well. One knee troubles me some. Other ways I am well. We have to lay down on the cold ground with nothing but our blankets to cover us but I sleep pretty well. We have not had any fighting yet. The cannons were heard all day the day before yesterday. We passed where the fighting was yesterday and saw the effects. I understand there was not many killed. The Rebs have retreated and we are following after them. We are within ten or twelve miles of Manassas Gap. Going that way it is verry pleasant weather. It begins to look like autumn. We have cold frosty nights. I have not received a letter from you for some time. I received Joel’s and Ann’s letter. Oh how wish I could be there to see them with you all but am denied that privilege so I send my love to them. Tell them I have often thought of them as I have been wandering among the mountains and hope I shall have their prayers that I may be a faithful soldier of the cross. It is my greatest fear that I shall not be faithful to Christ and his cause. The big guns begin to bang away again at a distance this very moment so I suppose we shall have to be on the trot again very soon. Oh the folks at home don’t know the first about a soldier’s life. The most that I can say is come and try it. There are few men I wish could have just one month’s experience. I hope it will end some day not far distant but the Lord only knows when. Tell Eugene I see Gen Burnside quite often. I saw him twice yesterday. He is a fine looking man. Cap’t Hall was riding in his staff. He is quite popular with the big men. I understand he has been promoted, but don’t know what position he holds but I think he is a smart man. I see Doc’t Rood most every day but I would give more to see the dear faces at home than all the world beside but I have to be satisfied with thinking of them at present and feeling that I am remembered by them. We have not been able to get that box yet and I presume we shall not as we are going away from railroad communication but it is no fault of those dear friends at home. Our quartermaster sent an order to Washington to have them forwarded and sent by the teams to Harper’s Ferry but did not find them. Tell Joel I will see that he has his pay for what he payed the express man. Tell sister Emaline that I was very glad to get a few lines from her. I could imagine just how she looked with Eugene and Ned by her side. Oh if I could see those dear little faces. Tell Warren and Almira to write to me. I saw a letter that sister Almira wrote to Merril Rogers a few days ago. Anything from home seem precious to me. Give my love to Dear Mother and all Brothers and Sisters. The Holden boys are all pretty well. I see Stephen occasionally. Calvin has got back again with us. I have not much news that is important and must stop writing. Write often and I may get them sometime.

Good Bye Dearest

W.B. Rogers

"There are few men I wish could have just one month’s experience. " I thought this was a very telling sentence. W. B. seems like a very kind-hearted sort. This is the first expression of anything resembling bitterness. I love his note to Eugene about General Burnside. Apparently the general caught the popular imagination quite quickly.

Camp Forbes Near Fredericksburg, Virginia                Nov 22/62

Dear Wife,

I have been trying to get a chance to write for a week past but we have been marching so that I have not been able to do so I received your letter and miniatures the night before we started our march. It has been a forced march of from ten to twenty miles a day. Oh Dearest Wife what a treasure those miniatures are. Perhaps you might think me weak but I had a good cry over those dear faces. Oh how I love those familiar features and the Dear little one. How pretty. Shall I ever see him. God only knows. I am in his hands and he is merciful and that is my only hope. He has watched over me and given me health and I feel to raise my heart to him with praise. I am well today and all the Holden boys as far as I know. Tucker has got pretty well again.

(missing page?)some money. I am in hopes they will pay us before long ad I will send you all I think I shall not need. Geo. Davis has a letter from Mrs. Rawson and Emmer and they said you was well Emereth was a little more comfortable. Oh dearest wife it makes me sad to see how careworn and pale and sad you look in the miniature, but I thank you again and again for them. I did not think you was a part of my life and soul so much as I have felt it since I have been separated from you. I feel that we are one. Surely oh Dearest I was not aware that love was so deep and those little ones are bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh and my most earnest prayer is for you Dearest ones. Give me love to Dear Mother and all friends. Pray for me as ever I shall for you.

W. B. Rogers

Camp Forbes in sight of Fredericksburg, Virginia                                Nov 28 /62

Dear Wife

I do not feel very well this morning and I thought it would be the best medicine I could get her to have a little talk with you. Oh my Dearest Wife you cannot imagine how seriously I think of you and pray for you and our Dear children. You are all of life to me. If it was not for you Dear ones I should have no desire to live but I am in the hands of a merciful God and I feel to say his will be done but I do feel my little family is all I care for in this world. Yesterday was Thanksgiving in old Mass. And I was with you all but this poor body and I felt thankful to think that perhaps you could have something comfortable for Thanksgiving. I would not care for the feast if I could have been at home with you. I went to the Doctor for the first time yesterday …but I hope it is for the best. There is one Rebel camp in sight across the river and our pickets and theirs talk with each other. We have expected to have a fight here but haven’t seen any yet and don’t believe we shall at present but I don’t pretend to know anything about it. There are ten thousand camp stories going all the time but I don’t pretend to believe any of them. I wish this war could be brought to a close but want to see Slavery killed at any rate if it takes seven years and feel that God will in his wisdom bring it about sooner or later. What other permanent peace we can expect. I don’t want to see this thing botched up so that my Boys if they should live would have to take my place in the tented field. I feel there is a great deal at stake and I hope it will be settled.

(the rest of this letter appears lost)

Odd to me that he mentions Thanksgiving several times. The popular idea is that it wasn't celebrated until 1863 when Lincoln declared a national day of thanksgiving. Apparently, some people were already celebrating this, since W.B. not only mentions it twice, but capitalizes it. Of course, when you look at the date and the location of this last letter, you know what's about to happen. W. B. seems resolved to do what he must: 
"I wish this war could be brought to a close but want to see Slavery killed at any rate if it takes seven years and feel that God will in his wisdom bring it about sooner or later. What other permanent peace we can expect. I don’t want to see this thing botched up so that my Boys if they should live would have to take my place in the tented field. I feel there is a great deal at stake and I hope it will be settled."  These sentences sum it all up about as neatly as anyone could. It was true during the Revolution. It was true during the Civil War. And today, if you ask anyone in our military, I'm sure they could make a similar statement. My ancestor's resolve is an inspiration to me and should be to us all. Never shirk from doing the good and decent thing, even when it is difficult.

17th of June

From the archives of the Christian Science Monitor

Tomorrow will be a day of parades. Here in Houston, it's Juneteenth. That's the day slaves in Texas received word that they had been freed. It has been celebrated here in the African American community for many years. In Charlestown, Massachusetts, people will turn out to watch the 17th of June Parade for Bunker Hill Day. That's the day celebrating the Battle of Bunker Hill. Charlestown is where my dad grew up in a house directly across the street from the Bunker Hill Monument. I can recall going to a few 17th of June Parades with my Grandmother Katie. This photo looks like it might have been taken in the 40's- before my time. And oh, it's also Father's Day. I'm thinking of you, dad.

A Glimpse of the Past in Fitchburg

For my blogiversary, a treat from YOUTUBE. I found this old film just full of old images of Fitchburg, Massachusetts from about 1941. 

If you want to get past the introduction with the two guys, go to 10:00. The music is entertaining and the picture quality is quite good. This was provided to Leominster Access Television by the Fitchburg Historical Society.

( Also, of note is that the images are from a time when my mom was still a student at the high school. She graduated in 1942. I didn't see her or any other faces I recognized in the images, but someone else with sharp eyes might. The images of a Fitchburg in days gone by are a real treat.

Happy Blogiversary to me!

Hidden Talents

The Princess's Theater- London

Every once in a while, I run across a story that piques my curiosity. This is one of those stories. It concerns a more distant branch of the Tapply family. Mary Ann Charlotte Tapply is only a 2nd cousin 4 times removed. Not a close family member. When I started following the clues for her family, I discovered a really interesting story and a bizarre twist.

Mary Ann married a man named James Baker Husk Junior. The census referred to him as a vocalist. A little more digging led me to this small bio on the site of the D'Oyly Carte Opera company.

"James Baker Husk was a member of the jury when Trial by Jury received its first performance at the Royalty Theatre March 25, 1875, under the management of Richard D'Oyly Carte. The Company was on tour from June to October 1875, then returned to the Royalty, but under the management of Charles Morton, rather than Carte. While on tour, Husk was promoted to Foreman of the Jury, a role he played only until November, when he was succeeded by W. S. Penley.

Husk had a musical career dating back to the 1840s. It ranged from the London Sacred Harmonic Society to the Cyder Cellar music hall. He was the father of D'Oyly Carte singer Rosa Husk."

Another site described him as a vocalist and music teacher and music hall chairman of the Cider Cellar and Dr. Johnson's Tavern. Apparently this last place was a Victorian age landmark. It seems that his talents were "opera with a touch of music hall". 

Mary Ann and James had nine children and lived in the area of London near St. Pancras called "Kentish town". This isn't far from where my great-great grandmother lived. Of the nine,  three followed their father into the music profession. William, James Charles and Rosa were all described in various censuses as vocalists. William died relatively young, but Rosa had some success in the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company.

"Rosa Alexandra Husk toured with D'Oyly Carte organization in the early 1880s. She appeared as Kate in The Pirates of Penzance (April-December 1881) with Mr. D'Oyly Carte's "C" Company, and later had two tours as the Lady Angela in Patience with Mr. D'Oyly Carte's No. 1 "Patience" Company (March-April 1883 and March-July 1884). During the 1881 Pirates tour she appeared as Kate Husk, but for the subsequent Patience tours she was billed by her real name of Rosa or as Rose." 

She got a number of good reviews, but eventually retired, married and ended up in Los Angeles.

The eldest brother, James Charles, is where the strange twist come in. James was also a professional singer and a member of the Carl Rosa Opera Company. They toured England bringing opera to various smaller cities all over the country. The Princess's Theater, shown above, is one of the places the Carl Rosa Opera Company mounted productions. He sang for many years, but his eyesight began to fail and he turned to his other talent to make his living. In this life, he was known as Cecil Husk.

Raymond Buckland describes Husk this way in The Spirit Book:

"From early childhood, in England, Cecil Husk was aware of his potential mediumship, frequently experiencing clairvoyance and psychokensis. His father was a singer, but also a Spritualist which made it easier for Cecil to understand and accept his gifts... Husk had five spirit guides, the main one being John King. While traveling on tour, Husk would give seances. He sat two or three times a week. At his sittings, musical "fairy bells" would be heard and would be seen flying around the room like orbs."

Unfortunately, not everyone was impressed with Cecil's "skills".  Wikipedia tells this tale;

"In 1891 at a public séance with twenty sitters Husk was exposed as a fraud. He was caught leaning over a table pretending to be a spirit by covering his face with phosphor material. It was noted by investigators that the materializations of Husk had fine singing voices and sounded similar to himself.[2] Husk also claimed to have the psychic ability to push his entire arm through an iron ring with a size that did not allow its passage over the hand, however, it was discovered that he performed the trick by using a local anesthetic on his hand."

Although he was "exposed" a number of times, he continued to make a living with his mediumship. Eventually, ill and destitute, a fund was set up to provide for his care. He died around 1920.

The story doesn't end there. Cecil's brother Percy was a journalist, but  his daughter also became a singer who performed under the name Ray Wallace. An online source describes her as a serio-comic ballad vocalist. "She commenced her imitations of music-hall favorites in 1899 and has appeared in every hall of note in the United Kingdom."

Judge for yourself.

Sometimes the true stories you find in your family history are much better than anything you could possibly invent!

A Sense of Character- An Addendum to My Tale of Michael S. Cooke

Michael Cooke's business stationery-courtesy of Ralph Lane

One of the things I enjoy about finding records, notes, letters and newspaper stories about the more distant ancestors is that it gives you a real sense of their character and their personalities. My cousin Mark Tapply made this point in a previous point about Charles Tapply's army desertion: "Who in their right mind, would go off and fight for a huge corporation (the British East India Company)and their profits, while leaving his wife and 2 kids alone to fend for themselves? That took a lot of courage!"   Good point. His comment made me see things through the eyes of my great-grandfather and gave me an insight into his thinking.

After my last post a few days ago, I was back again at Newspapers.com trying to find anything more I could add to the story of Michael Stinson Cooke. I found it.

Michael Stinson Cooke died on the 27th of October, 1897 at his home in San Francisco. Less than a week later, this touching story ran in the San Francisco Chronicle. I've transcribed it for you because it's a bit difficult to read in the image:

Followed Its Master; They Were Inseparable In Life and In Death

     The officers of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals were called upon yesterday by people living in the Richmond district to kill a horse that had become quite historical in that locality, but which, since the death of its master about a week ago, had lost its value in this world.

     About a week ago M.S. Cook, residing at the corner of Cook street and Point Lobos avenue, died at his home. Through life he had been well known in the district, and Cook street had been named after him. Cook possessed a beautiful sorrel horse, which for the past twenty-five years has been his constant and inseparable companion. One of the sights of the district was to see old man Cook and the horse out every day for their constitutional. They both grew old together.

     When Cook died a week ago his family did not know what to do with the horse. During life it was too dear to Cook to part with, but since Cook had died the animal's vocation in life ceased. Fearing that if allowed to live the horse might fall into other hands, and having for themselves no further use for it, the family decided to have him shot. When Office Walton arrived, Mrs. Cook refused to have the shooting done in an other place save the lot where the animal has been brought up. So he was compelled to kill the animal there.

What a lovely and touching story this is! And it reveals so much about the character of these people that they showed such concern and compassion for the horse that had become a member of the family.

Just another reminder that good genealogy is about more than facts and figures.

A San Francisco Pioneer

Ann Cooke, Mary Ann Cooke, Michael Stinson Cooke
The pictures of their parents were taken earlier, in their thirties, perhaps. Mary Ann is about 20 in her photo.

Meet my latest discovery in my search for the Irish side of the family. Ciaran Brett had been in touch with someone online who said his ancestor was a Cooke who hailed from Clooningan. Well, if that proved true, this had to be another family member. Clooningan is a tiny little townland. If you're a Cooke from Clooningan, you're some kind of family.

Here's a tree to make it clearer.

Ralph Lane, who has so kindly provided the photos, is my fourth cousin once removed. His ancestor, Michael Stinson Cooke was a San Francisco pioneer.

Many of the Irish who came to early San Francisco settled at the top of Portrero Hill. Michael Cooke, however, settled in what was once thought of as the sand wastelands at a place called Lone Mountain. He and a partner owned the land on the north slope of Lone Mountain in the area where the university is now. He was a dairyman. His daughter described the early home as a "two room shack" where the boards were brought in one board at a time. Mary Ann used to say that she was the first white child born west of Larkin Street. Her birth date is given as 1855. This was very early San Francisco. It would have been rugged. 

1862

Here he is in an early San Francisco directory. By 1862, the city fathers already had plans for this area. You can see what their plans were by looking at the directory: "nr. cemetery". When they began planting the dead all around his land, Michael Cooke sold the land to Bishop Alemany for the creation of the Catholic Cemetery. He did some tenant farming in the East Bay and earned the money to build on a lot back in the old neighborhood.

Ann Cooke in front of the house at Cook Street and Point Lobos (now Geary)

Here is Ann Smith Cooke in front of the house they built. It was right on the corner of Cook Street and what is now Geary Boulevard. Ralph Lane says there is a tire shop and an empty lot there today.

The area outlined in red is the land Michael once owned. That's Golden Gate Park at the bottom left. The cemeteries were moved to Colma after the turn of the century. Just north of the red area you can see Cook Street and Geary where the newer home stood between Cook and Baker. Michael went on to work at various jobs. Later censuses list him as a teamster. Ralph wrote me this " I have an invoice from 1879 on stationery of M.S. Cook, dealer in Hay, Grain, Feed, Wood and Coal, corner Geary and Cook Streets, (goods delivered to all parts of the city and suburbs free of charge"

Cooke house looking from Lone Mountain

In this early picture looking down from Lone Mountain, you can see the Cooke house under the red arrow. The wooded area at the dead end of Cooke Street was a cemetery, the bare land in the far ground is what is now the Presidio.  Point Lobos (now Geary) runs in front of the house.

I'm sure there is lots more to be discovered. Ralph has also forwarded a letter and an obituary that shed more light on the family, both the San Francisco branch and the Clooningan branch. The more I discover, the more I want to know. I spent a year in San Francisco and never had a clue about the gold right under my feet.

Christmas Past

Of course, I had grand ideas of collecting all kinds of family stories of Christmas traditions past....and no one particularly wanted to "play". Oh well, the holidays are fraught and people are busy. So I'll offer you a few things I do have. First is Bunny Tapply's Santa, which stood every year on her mantle. This has great sentimental value to the Charlie Tapply branch of the family.

Holly Jones did offer a couple of family pictures from the Beryl Tapply Jones branch of the family.

First the Jones clan in 1960. That's Holly in the middle in the blue sweater.

Next, you can see Beryl with all her family around her in 1970. That's Holly, I believe, in the white sweater behind her father.

I was challenged to find a good group photo of my family. (Dad was usually the photographer) I did find this gem from 1955 when I was still an "only" of about 3 and had just received my first tricycle. That's Prim Tapply Rogers looking much younger than I ever remember her! (That chair still sits in my house)

I've had an interesting year in my family history research. I've reconnected with an older member from my Smith branch and discovered a whole new set of cousins from the Cooke side in Ireland. I've added to the ancient and living branches of my tree and I make new discoveries all the time.
This is a wonderful adventure and I invite you to follow me into the new year. Happy Holidays!