No 1: Rice Against Rice

In my hands I am presently holding a most remarkable piece of paper.  A newspaper article from 1854.  But it’s not the age that makes it notable.  It’s what it reveals.  Small in size, but with just a few words organized in only a few sentences, this article awakes the curiosity button of anyone reading it, at least it did mine.  I mean, a simple statement such as “It is probable taking this as a criterion, that three-fourths of the wives in the community are entitled to a divorce”, surely would encourage one to wonder what this is all about.  And as I delve deeper into this short news item, other phrases hop out to increase the adrenaline of curiosity.   “…a large audience had attended with considerable interest to the trial”, and “The verdict created universal surprise, and since considerable excitement”, or  “…public sentiments seldom as unanimous as it is in the case against the result.”

The article first came into my possession some fifty years ago, and since my first reading I have always wondered about the background for these descriptions. Through years of research, a few details have become available, shedding light on the individuals involved, but not enough to give full explanations. Thus, the article has remained in my archives, waiting to be taken up again and researched anew in an effort to bring alive the individuals who experienced the actual events of the courtroom in 1854.

Without a doubt the most notable aspect of this article is the event which it describes. But nearly as remarkable as the story itself is the path this yellowing news item took in order to come into my possession. This too is a part of the story lending itself to research and speculation, and to some extent wonderment.

The article is entitled “The Circuit Court”.  

It has been cut out from the “Logansport Journal” of Logansport, Indiana. 

The date of printing was May 6 1854.

Someone has written that very same date,  “May 6^th 1854” at the top.   

This is followed by “Tryal”, at least that’s what it looks like to me.

It describes the case of “Rice against Rice”.

 

The article is worn, yellowing, and in some places difficult to read. The following is a transcript:

The Circuit Court

   Adjourned on Sunday morning at 3 o,clock.

                                     …………..

   The Case of Rice against Rice, for divorce, detained the Court to the later hour at which it adjourned.  It was submitted without argument, as there was no time to allow it.  Much disappointment was felt in consequence, as a large audience had attended with considerable interest to the trial.  The verdict created universal surprise, and since, considerable excitement.  We heard but little of the evidence, but public sentiment is seldom as unanimous as it is in this case against the result.  It is probable, taking this as a criterion, that three fourths of the wives in the community are entitled to a divorce, and most of them could claim it upon juster grounds than were presented at this trial.  The jury, doubtless did what they conscienciously believed to be demanded by the facts in the case, but their manner of viewing them certainly magnified or distorted them.

Comments made by the journalist who wrote this little item have awaken a need to pry and poke, a need to follow an adventurous road of questions to see where it leads.  Or, to put it simply, I just need to satisfy my curiosity, it’s a pleasure in itself. 

 

What is meant by “submitted without argument”?
Why did a large audience attend a court case concerning divorce?  What was the reason for the “considerable interest”?
Why was this trial a jury trial?
Why did the verdict create “universal surprise, and since, considerable excitement”?
What were the grounds given for the divorce?
What were the “facts in the case”?
Who cut out this article and kept it?
I received this article from my Grandfather. How did my Grandfather obtain the article?

And so, in June 2013, the opportunity arose for me to set aside six days in Logansport. Sunny days of walking the streets, visiting the cemeteries, searching through archives of newspapers and historical documents, relaxing in parks.  Activities which have given me a sense of the location, insights in our family, and numerous upon numerous documents, all of which should allow us to find answers to some these questions and many more. 

As I pour through the material gathered, I will make this information available through the articles which follow.
The articles will be numbered in order to make them easier to read on this website.

 

 

Logansport, Indiana June 9, 2013

My stay here in Logansport is drawing to a close, much to my disappointment.  I could easily have stayed here for an indefinite period of time, well, except for the love of my family reminding me that I live somewhere else.  My stay in this 1838 Indiana community has not only been one of unraveling historical mysteries, but also one of emotions and imagined memories. Here in Logansport I have found an accumulation of historical people who have been a part of my life for many years.

These individuals of time passed first began to appear in the late 1960s when I read letters written by my great-great grandfather, Gilbert J. Rice, a one time resident of this Midwest  community.  Through the words in his letters, other family members who were a part of his life became a part of mine.  Julia G. Potter, Anselm Potter, Julia M. Rice, Francis Rice, Edward P. Rice, Minerva Stuart and many more.

Logansport is where my entire family history, as I have been involved with it, comes together, only to separate again with one branch going south.  Here in 1835-1838 the Rice family moved to the city, even before it became incorporated. This family with a true pioneer spirit took advantage of the opportunities available on the young frontier.  The Rice family came first, established themselves, and soon after, the Potters arrived. The two families mixed and became one.   

Gilbert and his half-brother Benjamin Spencer moved to Logansport in 1835-1837, and here they established a viable grocery business.  Their success encouraged their mother Lucretia, and the rest of their siblings to make the journey from Pavilion, New York to this growing community.  Lucretia with at least six of her children moved to Logansport in 1838, and thus the entire Rice family had arrived.

In 1838, seventeen old Minerva Potter married the young lawyer William Z. Stuart of Logansport.  Anselm and Julia Potter along with their daughter Julia M. made frequent visits to their young daughter, Minerva.  

During one of these visits, Julia M. met Gilbert Rice. They were married in 1845, a year of particular importance. In that year Anselm was placed in an institution for the insane and Julia G. joined Gilbert, Julia, and Minerva in Logansport.  Thus the entire Potter family had arrived and intertwined with the Rice. In 1850 Julia gave birth to Edward and then in 1852, Francis.

The names are many.

Lucretia: my great-great-great grandmother
Gilbert J. Rice: her son
Elihu Rice: her son
Benjamin Spencer: her son and half-brother to Gilbert and Elihu
Julia G. Potter: my great-great-great grandmother
Julia M. [Potter] Rice: my great-great grandmother married to Gilbert
Francis J. Rice: my great grandfather
Edward P. Rice: his brother
Minerva Hart [Potter] Stuart: Julia G Rice’s sister. (The reason the Potters moved to Logansport)

There is much to tell of each of these individuals, there failures and their successes, their personalities, their way of thinking.  After my stay in Logansport, we have become even better acquainted, they and I. Thus many more stories to write. 

A particular moving moment for me, which only avid and peculiar genealogists can understand, was standing by the grave of Minerva Stuart.  Knowing that on this very same small plot of soil, on an August afternoon in 1846, where I was now standing, stood much of my ancestral family. 

Twenty five year old Minerva had just died of complications in childbirth and now her grieving family watched as she was laid to rest. The very place where I now stood.  Minerva’s mother and sister. Her husband and two small children. And her extended family including Gilbert, Elihu, and Benjamin.  On these very grounds stood my historical family with whom I have lived for 40 years. 

My imagination evolved into feelings, not tears which sometimes occur, but mixed feelings of the end of time, and the continuance of time.

Today, on my last day in Logansport, likely never to return, I will visit the grave of Minerva one more time.  For here lie also the rest of the family, or at least many of them. Anselm Potter.  Lucretia and Gilbert Rice. Benjamin Spencer and his wife Clarissa. And of course Minerva and her son Seldon.  I will say goodbye, but not really, for their stories remain to be told. Maybe even a tear will be shed, not because of them, but because their stones remind me that time ends. And, of course, continues.  

Starting on the upper right, the two “black” stones. The first Lucretia, the other Gilbert. Behind these, a tall white stone is for Benjamin Spencer and his wife Clarissa. The tall white stone in the foreground is for Minerva and her son Seldon. On the immediate left, lying barely visible on the ground are the remains of the stone for Anselm Potter.  True examples of the end of time, and yet, a continuance of the same.  With the stories I write, their lives might be remembered.

A Child Named Julia

I wonder what it would be like to be given the same name as your dead sister or brother, and to carry that name for your entire life. Such it was for Julia Geraldine Turner, Leslie Rice’s great-grandmother.  She carried the name of her sister, but not the memories of the young toddler, since the little three year old died two years before her own birth. Would not one be forever reminded of the poor sister, the way she died, the cause of her death, the missing opportunities for her future?

When we try to answer such a question for ourselves, we are, of course, answering from within the context of today’s culture and attitudes.  I myself, would think it rather odd, and maybe somewhat “scarey”, should I have been given the name of a dead brother.  It feels as if I might be challenging fate in such a way that it might repeat itself.  Besides, I believe that it is important for each child to have its old identity, and not take upon himself the memories and comparisons of a deceased sibling.  But that’s how it is for me, not how it was in the 18^th century.

Julia Turner was born in 1792 to Asa and Isabel Turner, but died three years later in 1795.  Julia was born and died in Franklin, New York, however, the cause of her death and the place of her burial are unknown.

Julia Geraldine Turner, the next female child born in the family, was born in 1796, also in Franklin, and according to what was common in New England at the time, she was named after her sister.  If a child died, the next child of the same sex would often be given the same name.

The loss of a child in the settling years of the frontier was a frequent occurrence. Diseases which stole away these infants included measles, diphtheria, whooping cough, mumps, and chicken pox. Accidents claimed children too. Frontier households were busting, cluttered places that were not always child-safe.  Open fires, kettles of hot water, privy holes, unfenced ponds, and open wells were daily dangers to a toddler. It was easy to lose sight of a small child in a crowed household.

In those days, children were often given the name for deceased siblings.  Historically one of the most quoted examples of this is that of Ephraim and Elizabeth Hartwell of Concord, Massachusetts. They lost five children, Ephraim, Samuel, John, Elizabeth, and Isaac to “throat distemper” in a single month in 1740. The parents survived and had nine more children, named Elizabeth, Samuel, Abigail, Ephraim, John, Mary, Sarah, Isaac, and Jonas.

Due to the unpredictability of a child’s stay on this earth, it was common for children to be compared to items of a frail and fleeting nature.  Portraits of children often depicted them with a single blossom as a reminder of how transient their time on earth might be. The miniature painted by Isaac Oliver in 1590 is possibly an example of this. 

"Girl Aged Five, Holding a Carnation"
Isaac Oliver 1590

  

A poem written by Anne Bradstreet (c.1612-1672), considered to be the first poet and first published female writer of British North America, demonstrates this very thing.  Anne experienced losing her namesake grandchild who died at the age of three years and seven months. On this occasion she wrote:

“I knew she was but as a withering flour,
That’s here to day, perhaps gone in an hour;
Or like a shadow turning as it was.
More fool then I to look on that was lent,
As if mine own, when thus impermanent.”

Julia Geraldine herself experienced the loss of two of her three children.  Her first born, Sarah Maria died at the age of 14 on April 12, 1831 at Mayville, New York. Then again, her next eldest child, Minerva Hart, died at the age of 24, at Logansport, Indiana on July 30, 1846.  Her third and youngest, Julia Martha, Leslie’s grandmother, lived until she was 80 years old.

Not only did Julia Geraldine experience the loss of two of her three children, but also the oldest of her two grandchildren.  Edward Potter Rice, died of typhoid fever at the age of nine years.  This at Oskaloosa, Kansas. The remaining child was Francis Jay Rice, Leslie’s father.

As an answer to my introductory question:  “How would it be to carry the name of one’s own dead sister?”  Julia Geraldine, gives an answer.  She obviously cherished her sister’s name, and when given the opportunity she named her own child Julia.

Julia Geraldine [Turner] Potter’s youngest daughter was Julia Martha [Potter] Rice

Notes:
Julia: the name originated from Latin and its meaning is youthful, soft haired, gentle. It is the feminine counterpart for the male name of Julius.  Julia has continually been one of the most admired female names used in the United States.  In 2011, it ranked 57 out of the top 1000 most popular U.S. girl’s names

- Julia Turner: March 31, 1792 – March 6, 1795, was a sister to…
- Julia Geraldine [Turner] Potter: August 28, 1796 – January 17, 1875, was the mother to…
- Sarah Maria Potter: October 31, 1816 – April 12, 1831. Buried in Mayville, New York, was a sister to …
- Julia Martha [Potter] Rice: July 7, 1826 – October 15, 1906

Anne Bradstreet: (c.1612-1672),

Credits:
- Ellis, John Harvard, ed. “The Works of Anne Bradstreet in Prose and Verse”. A. E. Cutter. Charlestown. 1867.
- Fischer, David Hackett. “Albion’s Seed: Four British Folkways in America”. Oxford University Press. 1989
- Oliver, Isaac.  (1558 – 1617). English, “Girl aged five, holding a carnation”.
- Ourbabyname.com
- Volo, James M. and Dorothy Denneen Volo. “Daily life on the old Colonial Frontier”. Greenwood Press, Westport, CT. 2002

Small, Serene, Simply….Garnett

“Who was Julia Ash”, asks Noreen in the patient and inquisitive tones typical of my sister, at least, that’s how she is when we are on the road together.  She poses this question after we already have driven up and down several streets in this Kansas community of Garnett.  “Small, serene, simply….Garnett” is how it describes itself on its webpage.  With its population of nearly 3500 residents, the place is not really all that small, at least according to my experience after having grown up in a town just half its size.

Our grandfather, Leslie F. Rice, lived and taught in Garnett during the years of 1912 to 1914.  Granddad married Grace Rich on August 24, 1912 and within a few weeks the couple moved to Garnett where he began his first teaching position in the state.

Located in the southeast corner of the state, Garnett in 1912 had a population of over 2300 residents. An electric plant, flour and feed mill, creamery, cigar factories, opera house, fire department, eleven churches, a high school and grade schools, two daily newspapers, two weeklies, and “several blocks of substantially built business houses”.   Goodness, the number of newspapers, the opera house, and eleven churches quite impress me. These facilities alone would be enough to encourage Granddad and Grandmother to this location for his first teaching job in the state. They were to change locations five times while remaining in the state for thirteen years until they moved to North Dakota in 1926.  And four of their five children were born here.

But the available facilities were undoubtedly merely contributing factors to their choice of residence. Well known to Granddad, and very likely also to Grace, was the Ash family who had settled in the community some years before.  They would certainly have encouraged the young couple to make the move, ah yes, they would have been were instrumental in their doing so.  Mrs. Ash, Julia, was Granddad's aunt, well, nearly.  It was in Garnett that Leslie and Grace made their first home.  They remained here until 1914 when they moved on to Salina, Kansas.

On this occasion, October 2012, Noreen and I had been looking for the home of Andrew and Julia Ash on Olive Street.  I had gotten the address from the Federal Census of 1910, but we were unable to find the location.  The town might have been rezoned such that the streets and house numbers have been changed, or the house torn down, or the address wrongly transcribed.  Not really so unusual after over one hundred years.

Thus Noreen’s very reasonable question. “Who was Julia Ash”?

“Although Julia Ash was biologically Granddad’s second cousin once removed, she was in many ways Granddad’s aunt, or maybe more correctly, “step-aunt” if there is such as position.  She was the daughter of Thomas and Elizabeth Turner of Rock Creek, Kansas. However, when her mother died in 1875 Julia was taken in by her father’s cousin, Julia Rice, that is, our great-great grandmother. At the time Julia Turner (Ash) was thirteen years old and our Great-grandfather, Francis, was 22.   Does this make sense?  Think about it for a while and your mind will put all this in form of a cute little family tree.  Julia Rice (our great-great-grandmother) - Francis Jay Rice (our great-grandfather), Julia Turner (foster sister), and Leslie F. Rice (our granddad).

As the years passed, Julia Rice and Julia Turner became closely tied to each other, living in the same household for mutual benefit, each taking care of the other. Julia Turner quickly became a beloved family member, a daughter to Julia Rice, and a sister to Francis. After Julia Turner married Andrew Ash in 1885, she continued to care for her mother who remained with the family. Julia Rice was blind during the last few years in Garnett, and in 1904 moved to Siloam Springs, Arkansas to live with her son and family. There she died and was buried two years later in 1906.

Julia Ash and Andrew remained in Garnett and in 1927 she passed on.  Andrew in 1930. Both are buried in the cemetery outside of town.  It’s because of her close ties with the family that I would like to visit their graves.”

“Which direction should I drive now in order to find the cemetery”, another more than reasonable question from Noreen as she concentrated on searching the house numbers just in case we missed what we have been looking for.

“Continue north along Olive Street and then make a little jog onto Neosho Road. The Garnett cemetery is by the road side.”

At the end of Olive Street we left the community outskirts, and entered the Kansas prairie.  We drove three or four blocks into the countryside until we could begin to see the gravestones on the top of a small rise.

“I see the gate on the right at the top of this hill”, I said, as I began to realize that the task we had taken upon us would be nearly impossible.

“Look at all those stones, Sis”.  There must be a thousand of them.”

Noreen and I have on several occasions walked cemeteries in search of memorial remnants of long gone relatives.  Our searches have been made both in Canada and the USA. Usually we either found them, or the stones were not there.  This time the task seemed insurmountable.

“Where in the world did all these burials come from?”   In my hometown of Mott we could easily have walked the Sunny Slope Cemetery, inspecting each stone, reading each name, several times.  Mott in my day had about 1500 residents and for some reason my mindset on this day had all the Kansas towns at this size or smaller. I mean, in western North Dakota a community of 1500 was pretty good sized. Garnett at 3500 rather threw me, and I was not properly prepared for the task.

We both gazed in wonderment at the stones as we drove along the trail through the center of the graveyard. Noreen looking on her side, me on mine.  Not only was there what seemed to be an unaccountable number of stones, but nearly half were placed flat on the ground.  Much like footstones. These stones could only be registered from the car as existing, but were impossible to read.

We drove slowly, searching, but knowing that this would not give any results.  At the end of the road, Noreen turned the car and drove slowly back towards the entrance.

“There’s no way we are going to find those graves without a map or a register. There is simply no way.  We could walk this cemetery all day and not find anything.  In fact, we don’t really know if the markers are still here.” Was my pessimistic contribution. “We can just as well call it a day.”

“Maybe Leslie will help us”, Noreen’s thoughts became verbal.

?????, thought I.  “Ja, sure!”

“Who knows?” thought Noreen aloud.  “Maybe Granddad can give us some direction.”

Again, “Ja, sure”.  I knew that she has recently been watching Oprah’s “Super Soul Sundays” and has begun to consider the possibilities of meditation, but to this….?

Noreen parked the car on the road side.  “Let’s just give it a try.  Who knows what we will find.”  Besides, we didn’t have much else on our schedule for the day, and although it was cloudy and cool, we both could use the exercise. 

So we began.  Noreen walking on the cemetery’s left side.  I along the right, following the rows from the middle to the far right, and back again. Each endless row, and continuing deeper and deeper into the cemetery which was eternal not only for its occupants, but seemed also for us as we tried to read each stone, both those standing and those laying half buried in the grass.

In time, I rather lost track of Noreen.  I moved faster than she, knowing full well that this was not going to work.   I should previously have tried to locate more info on the graves.  A lot number or at least a section number.  This was not the first time I was unable to complete a search due to being poorly prepared.

Stones upright, large and small, old and new, readable and illegible, brightly colored, others covered with lichens and moss, some of brass, others marble or granite, some with figures, with pictures. The stones standing I could at least read. But those lying flat were more of a challenge. In places soil half way covered them, others the grass.  And even though I knew we would be unable to accomplish our goal, there is something comforting about walking a cemetery. Well, at least, during the day…. Probably not so much at night.

The neatly ordered rows of stones and memorials help to create a calm atmosphere in which to slowly wander, and yes, meditate, at least in the form of just letting my thoughts wander, restlessly as my feet moved in an orderly fashion.

I thought about our Granddad Leslie as a young teacher in this prairie town, and Grace his young wife who kept the home fires burning.  Grace, a very cheerful and social person, would not have spent her time at home cleaning, preparing meals, and waiting for Granddad.  She undoubtedly reached out and became acquainted with the residents of Garnett.  She might even have taught school, and she for certain gave piano lessons.

As I walked among the gravestones, I also imagined evenings which Granddad and Grace would spend with his Aunt Julia, also a teacher. I imagined Julia with her youngest girl Christine, seventeen years old. And Andrew the carpenter. All sitting at the kitchen table, reminiscing about early Kansas. The Ash family wasn’t wealthy, but they could share rich memories of growing up in Kansas, of Leslie’s grandmother, and his dad Francis.

In my wandering thoughts, they talk about their daughter Helen, twenty-four and living away from home with relatives. Leslie tells of the Santa Fe Railway which he and Grace take from Siloam Springs to Topeka and then on to Garnett. Granddad could tell of teaching Indians in Oklahoma Territory, just across the border from Garnett. And while talking about home in Arkansas, Julia and Christine would pry out of Leslie and Grace tidbits about their courtship. Shy as he is, Leslie reveals little about the dark haired beauty from Arkansas, but Grace with a smiling enthusiam tells more.

As I think of Leslie, and Grace, and Andrew, and Julia, I look down, and by my feet, as Noreen predicted, are the markers:

Garnett Municipal Cemetery.  All 40 acres on an October afternoon in 2012

The gravestones were at my feet

The photo is from 1895 showing the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway on the Kansas prairie. Granddad used this railroad when traveling from his home in Siloam Springs, Arkansas to various locations in Kansas, including Garnett.

The railroad station for the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway at Garnett, Kansas, as it appears today. 

From here Granddad took the train whenever traveling in Kansas

A portion of the Rice family tree showing Julia P. (Turner) Ash’s place in the tree

Leslie F. Rice
The actual date of this picture is unknown. However, we can assume that it is from about the time our Granddad
lived at Garnett, Kansas

Notes:

On the 3^rd of March, 1855 Julia Rice fled Logansport, Indiana in the middle of the night, together with her mother and her two sons, leaving her husband, Gilbert Rice, behind.  This was the last time Gilbert ever saw his sons. Edward, the oldest died five years later, and Francis lived in Kansas and Arkansas, a considerable distance from St. Paul, the later home of his father.

Gilbert mourned over his loss for over 50 years.  From letters which Gilbert in later years wrote to Julia Ash, we know that he never understood the reasons for his wife’s leaving, (in his words “deserting”), the family, and that he never recovered from the divorce.  In his aging years Gilbert wrote to his former wife, the letter arriving when his ex-wife was living with Julia Ash and the Ash family.  Julia Rice ignored the letter.

Julia Ash knew that Gilbert had last seen his son as an infant some 40 years earlier. She would also have known that Gilbert was aging and that none of the involved individuals were likely to take an initiative to be reacquainted with one another. Curiosity and concern are strong motives, which is probably why Julia Ash, risking the wrath of her “mother”, opened the letter and began to correspond with Gilbert. It appears as if this correspondence was kept a secret from one of the individuals involved, Julia Rice herself.

After a brief correspondence with Gilbert, Julia Ash informed Francis of the correspondence and succeeded in her endeavor to connect Gilbert with his son.  Although they never met, several letters were exchanged between father and son before Gilbert died in 1904.

Credits:

- “Kansas. A Cyclopedia of State History…”. Editor Frank W. Blackmar. Standard Pub. Co., Chicago. 1912. P. 712 

- Photo of ATSF depot, Garnett, Kansas by Mike Pennington 17 May 2008

- Photo of “Passenger Train of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway, around 1895” from Wikipedia. Author
             unknown.

- Photo of Leslie F. Rice. From personal collecton of Norman W. Mills

- All other photos by Norman W. Mills