A Civil War Widow Applies for a Pension

Recently my fold3.com subscription was about to expire.  I rarely used it, finding it hard to navigate and not very useful.  But I decided to give it one last chance to prove itself.  

I started poking around the Civil War records, since that’s their specialty.  After a few misses, I had a hit.  My husband’s great-great-grandfather Charles Alwood, who died in a Civil War camp from typhoid fever, had a wife who applied for a widow’s pension just weeks after he died.  I downloaded and printed out the 18 pages of records, and it was a gold mine!

I spent the next few hours analyzing what I’d found.  It included:

• The Declaration, partially shown in the photo.  It was an sworn affidavit which gave a detailed background of Elizabeth and Charles, his service, his death, and their family.  Her parents were the sworn witnesses.  One thing they had to swear to was that Elizabeth “has not, in any manner, been engaged in, or aided or abetted the rebellion in the United States.”  Elizabeth had to sign all the documents with an “X”—she couldn’t read or write.
• As proof of these facts, a letter from the Adjutant General’s Office which gave the details of Charles’ army service, from enrollment until death.  Very handy to have!
• A letter from the Surgeon General’s Office that is the equivalent of a death certificate for Charles.  Priceless!  I’d never been able to narrow down exactly when and where he died.
• An affidavit from Tuscarawas County, Ohio, stating the details of Charles and Elizabeth’s marriage—the equivalent of a marriage certificate, signed by a judge.
• An affidavit from Elizabeth’s mother, stating that she was present at the birth of all six underage children being listed on the pension application.  She gave the details about each birth.  A great substitute for official birth records, which the government did not keep in the 1850s!
• Paperwork for Elizabeth’s later application (and approval) for a pension increase; in addition to her $8 per month, she was entitled to an additional $2 per month for each child under age 16.  The children are again listed, with birth dates and dates on which they will turn 16, along with many other details.
• A “Drop Pensioner” card which states the details of Elizabeth’s death in 1912, at which time she was receiving $12 a month.  Not a death record, but pretty darn close.  Better than anything I’d been able to find previously.

I found it interesting that, on these forms created in the middle of the Civil War, the conflict is referred to as “The War of 1861.”  I’d never heard it called that before.

So, maybe fold3.com had its place in my toolbox after all...  I have written for a Civil War pension record before—to the National Archives—and it was an expensive hassle.  This was easy and free!  So, I did one more thing that day—I renewed my subscription to fold3.com.

Typhoid Fever

Recently I wrote about Warren Alwood, my husband’s great grandfather.  Warren’s father Charles Alwood/Allwood died during the Civil War of typhoid fever, and later, Warren’s adopted son Frankie died of it in 1900.  Just what was this scourge that broke up so many families and caused so much grief in those times?

WebMD.com says that typhoid fever is most often caused by the Salmonella typhi or paratyphi bacteria.  The bacteria are deposited in water or food by a human carrier and then spread to others.  It is most commonly transmitted through polluted water supplies, poor public sanitation, or contaminated food, which explains why it was so prevalent on crowded immigrant ships, in overcrowded city slums, and in hastily-formed army camps.

Despite the development of a vaccine in 1901 which was used on the entire U.S. Army before WWI, nevertheless in the 1920s there were over 35,000 deaths in the United States from typhoid, as compared to about 400 cases annually today.  (Worldwide there are still 13 million cases annually, with over half a million deaths.)  The use of antibiotics have greatly reduced the mortality rate.

What did typhoid fever look like?  Encyclopaedia Brittanica (britannica.com) says that after 10 to 14 days the early symptoms appear:  headache, aching, fever, restlessness, and perhaps nosebleeds, cough, and gastric upset.  Fever then develops, reaching 103 to 104 degrees.  By week two, a rose-colored rash appears on the body for four or five days, then disappears.  Then comes hemorrhage of the intestinal walls; after that, mental confusion and delirium sets in.  By week three, the typhoid victim is emaciated, suffers from acute abdominal distress, and the mental disturbance is pronounced.  By week four, for the lucky ones, the symptoms abate and recovery occurs—but if untreated, typhoid fever is fatal in about 25% of cases.

The most famous carrier of typhoid fever, Mary Mallon—“Typhoid Mary”—worked as a cook in New York City in the early 1900s.  When she refused to believe she was a carrier and give up working as a cook, even after repeated warnings, public health authorities had her quarantined for the last 26 years of her life. 

The most famous typhoid death is probably that of Queen Victoria’s husband Albert at age 42—although modern experts lean towards the theory that it was probably something more chronic like Crohn’s disease.  Victoria blamed their eldest son the Prince of Wales’ wild escapades for causing her husband’s death, and she never forgave her son for it—nor did she ever stop wearing black and mourning her beloved Prince Albert.

But most typhoid deaths were of the more ordinary kind, like my husband’s great-great-grandfather Charles Alwood, who died in a Union Army camp in North Carolina in July of 1865, and young Frankie Alwood, who died in 1900 in a small town in Ohio at the tender age of 14.

  

The Children of Warren and Addie Alwood

I’ve written before about Warren Charles Alwood, who was a good and faithful man.  Warren and Addie raised six children…  The first three had no surviving children of their own.  The next two had thirty surviving children between the two them!  And the last had just one surviving child.

Franklin Mark-Alwood:  Franklin was born to Addie Mark five years before she married Warren.  Since the math didn’t add up, I dug up a birth record.  He was born to Addie in Ohio, out of wedlock, no father listed.  But after their marriage, Warren raised Frankie as his own, calling him his “son” in the census records.  According to Franklin’s obituary, he had suffered from some type of spinal problem since babyhood.  He died in 1900 at age 13 of typhoid fever.

Irvin Burgoyne Alwood:  Irvin’s 1918 draft card describes him as medium height and build, with blue eyes and light hair.  He served in the U.S. Army Infantry in World War I, as part of the American Expeditionary Forces in Europe.  Later he worked in a foundry—not easy work!  Irvin had no children with either of his wives.  He died in 1963 at age 71 and is buried with second wife Leah.

Wayne Nedry Alwood:  Wayne served in World War I as a private in the 337^th Infantry.  His draft card said he was tall, slender, with gray eyes and dark hair.  Wayne never married; his niece Denise Haring said that he fell in love with a girl whose parents didn’t approve, and they moved her away, and he was so brokenhearted that he gave up on marriage for good.  In the 1920 census he lives with his father and little sister Beulah; in the 1930 census he lives with his sister Floy and her family; by 1940 he lives with his cousin Alice in Ohio.  Wayne died in 1948 in his fifties at a VA hospital in Michigan from heart disease, which he probably inherited from his mother. 

Hazel Irene Alwood:  Hazel married at sixteen and had fifteen children, fourteen of whom survived to adulthood to have children of their own.  She and husband Walter Garver were farmers.  (I’ve talked about her family in another post.)  Hazel died at age 72.

Floy Dell Alwood:  Floy outdid her sister Hazel in the effort to produce the most grandchildren for Warren—she and husband Charles Haring had sixteen children!  The family is pictured below.  Floy’s death was a very tragic one…  As two granddaughters told it in a family cookbook/history book, Floy worked at a local laundry to help support her large family.  One day she was told of an automobile accident involving one of her daughters and a friend in which, she was told, her daughter was killed.  Floy had a heart attack that day, and died shortly after, at age 61.  As it turned out, her daughter had survived the accident.

Beulah Marie Alwood:  Beulah lost her mother when she was only six and was raised by her father, with the help of her brother Wayne.  (Below is a photograph of Beulah and Wayne around 1912.)  Beulah grew up to marry local farmer LaDoyt Alverado Carey and they had two sons.  The older one, John, died at four months due to accidental strangulation.  What a tragedy!  I wonder how it affected their family?  Beulah died at age 57.

I love to trace the paths of a married couple and all their children, not just the one who is a direct ancestor.  In genealogy they call it “descendancy research.”  I call it “finding the stories.”

Warren Alwood: A Good Man

This is a photo of my husband’s great-grandfather Warren Alwood—a good man.  He is the relative on my husband's side whom I most wish I could have met.  I love to tell the stories of the “black sheep”—oh, mercy, I really do!—but the fine and faithful citizens also need their stories told, don’t you think?

Warren Charles Alwood (1862-1935) was the youngest in his family.  His father died of typhoid fever in 1865, many miles from home, while serving in the Union Army during the Civil War.  Warren was only two, and his mother never remarried—perhaps setting an example for Warren’s later life of faithfulness in love, even after death.

Warren married Adeline (Addie) Mark in 1891 when he was 28 and she was 25—first marriage for both.  They had five children, but raised six:  Franklin, Irvin, Wayne, Hazel, Floy Dell, and Beulah.  (More about them another day.)  That puzzled me until I did some digging…  It turns out Addie had a son out of wedlock in 1886—Franklin, who was disabled with spinal problems.  But Warren raised Frankie as his own until he died in 1900 at age 13 of typhoid fever. 

The family started out in northeastern Indiana, then went to Ohio where Addie was born, but eventually settled in Clare County, Michigan, on a farm near Brown’s Corners.  Warren built a house of fieldstone which was still standing in 2002.  Six years after their last child was born, Addie died from uterine cancer at 46; Warren was a widower at 51.  His obituary later said of him, “Mr. Alwood continued to maintain a home for his family until they were all able to depend upon themselves.”

But Warren had a lot of life in him yet.  He was head of the local school board, was active in the United Brethren Church, and was a much-loved father and grandfather.  A few stories about him survive, thanks to his grandson Dale Garver:

Once when Warren came to visit his daughter Hazel Garver and her children, he had cheese and crackers during the drive over.  It had rained, and dirt had splashed on his snack.  When he got to his daughter’s house, he said his “cheese and crackers got all muddy.”  The boys soon turned this into “Jesus Christ, God Almighty!” and teased him about it the rest of the day.

Grandsons Charles, Wayne, Forest and Lester—Hazel’s four oldest boys—liked to play tricks on their grandfather.  When he came over with his Whippet, a small two-door car, and it was time to leave, they’d line up and grab the rear bumper.  The car didn’t have enough power to pull all of them, and it would stall.  Warren would get out, hollering at them, and run them off…  If there weren’t four of them, they’d still grab the bumper, but instead of stalling the car, they’d ski down the road behind it.  Unless they let go in time, they would hit the sandy spot in the road about halfway to the corner and tumble head over heels.

One day when Warren came home with his Whippet, he pulled into the small barn where he parked it.  The building had doors front and back so he didn’t have to back out.  This particular time he failed to stop and hollered, “Whoa!” as he crashed through the back doors of the barn.

This photograph shows Warren with some of his sisters and neighbors.  The startling caption is “Fat People of Brown’s Corners.”  Warren looks like a rooster in a henhouse here—I suppose he was the most eligible middle-aged bachelor in the area.

But Warren never remarried.  After 22 years as a widower, he died at age 72 from heart trouble, probably a complication of the diabetes which runs in the family...  Gone, but not forgotten.

Wayne, Walter, and the Model T

My husband’s great-uncle Wayne Nedry Alwood (1893-1948) had a model T automobile similar to this one, pictured.  Those puppies could be hard to start, and sometimes a person had to get creative.  But Wayne’s brother-in-law, Walter Garver, discovered a system that worked.

Dale Garver, a cousin of my husband’s and a top-notch genealogy researcher, wrote and self-published a book about the Garver family in 2002 which he entitled One Tree in the Garver Family Jungle—Past and Present.  Dale recorded some wonderful stories in the course of his research, including this one about Wayne, Walter, and the Model T... 

“Wayne Alwood drove his Model T Ford up for a visit (to his sister Hazel’s farm) one time, and parked it in the Grove.  After it sat unused for a couple of days during Wayne’s stay, he cranked it and cranked it and couldn’t get it started.  Finally he gave up in frustration, uttered a swear word, threw up his hands, and said, “I’ll walk instead!”  He then gathered up his traveling gear, got out of the car, and stopped by Walter and Hazel’s house.  He told his brother-in-law Walter, “I’m going home.  There’s a car sitting out there; if you can get the so-and-so to start, it’s yours.”  He never came back for the car.  

Walter kept it and he always used a horse to pull-start it.  He would get his trusty work horse Prince, not even bothering with a bridle, just putting the harness on him, and grab a chain.  He’d hook Prince to the car and holler, “Okay,” and Prince would pull the car backwards out of the garage.  “Stop,” Walter would say, and Prince would turn around and walk to the front of the car.  The chain was then hooked up to the front of the car and out the driveway they went, not even trying to start the car until they got out into the road.  Walter just kept talking to Prince as they slowly picked up speed.  Once a trot was established, the car was started.  Prince would then head back to the barn, beating Walter in his car, as Walter had to go on to the corner to turn around and come back.”

Is this story vitally important in the genealogical history of my husband’s family?  No.  Is it priceless to me anyway?  Definitely.

Grave Hunting in the Heartland

It was my Grandma Wallin who first took me to a graveyard—as a recreational activity—when I was about eight. I’ve liked graveyards ever since.

Recently my husband and I were traveling to Holmes County, Ohio, and I thought we might as well visit a few graveyards on the way. His maternal ancestors are buried in a string of graveyards stretching from northern Indiana to central Ohio. So, armed with my “graveyard kit,” we spent a day hunting tombstones.

First stop: Eddy Cemetery, DeKalb County, Indiana—resting place of Charles and Elizabeth Alwood, my husband’s great-great-grandparents. Charles was a private in the Indiana Volunteers during the Civil War. He left seven children at home, the oldest a boy of twelve. His unit fought its way through the south, eventually ending up in North Carolina, where they occupied Raleigh and then cooled their heels waiting for the war to end. After it did, but before he could get back home, Charles died of typhoid in an army camp there. Elizabeth lived forty more years as a widow, running their farm as well as she could. We left a flag at his grave.

Second stop:  Independence Cemetery, Defiance County, Ohio—resting place of John Jr. and Mary Ann Garver, my husband’s great-great-grandparents.  There we had the great pleasure of meeting up with the woman who cared for this church cemetery along with her husband.  We had corresponded with her ahead of time and determined that her husband is a distant cousin of my husband, and she surprised us with an envelope of photographs which were ours to keep.

Third stop:  Florida Cemetery, Henry County, Ohio—final resting place of Jacob Heilman and his family—once again, my husband’s great-great-grandparents.  Jacob, an immigrant from Bavaria, was in the 68^th Ohio Infantry in the Civil War, and theirs is an incredible tale.  His unit fought in every Confederate state except Florida and Texas, and during the course of the war, he marched over 7,000 miles and rode trains or steamboats another 6,000.  He lived to tell the story, going on to have twelve children—six before the war and six after—and he died at 88.  After taking some photographs, we put a flag on his grave and were on our way.  We had a long drive to our next stop.

Fourth stop:  Walters Cemetery, Morrow County, Ohio—final resting place of John Garver Sr. and his wife Elizabeth—my husband’s great-great-great grandparents.  John Sr. was born in 1795 and died in 1879.  He fought in the Pennsylvania Militia in the War of 1812, and was given a 40-acre piece of government homesteading land (“bounty land”) for his service and a pension in his old age.  Three of their daughters predeceased them and are buried with them—all three died in the 1840s, at ages 20, 16, and 2.

Not every husband would spend an entire day finding cemeteries and cleaning gravestones for his wife, especially on vaction...  Kudos to mine for being such a good sport!

The Fourteen Garvers of Clare County, Michigan

I grew up with one brother and one sister—a typical 50s family.  My mother-in-law, however, grew up in a different world—she shared her childhood with five sisters and eight brothers.   

Walter Garver and Hazel Alwood were married in Clare County, Michigan in 1914.  Over the next 25 years, they had fifteen children—in order, they were Doris, Charles, Wayne, Forest, Lester, Fern, Donna, Walter, Virginia, Max, Robert, Rex, Betty, Marlyn, and William.  All survived to adulthood except the last, William, who died from congenital heart disease at only five days old. 

The family grew up in a small farmhouse on Adams Road in Clare County without much money, but with a determination to make the best of what they had.  Hazel managed to keep her ever-increasing brood fed; my mother-in-law Donna says, “We always had enough to eat—but it was a lot of beans and potatoes.”  She once told me that her mother’s attitude about the new babies was, “One more won’t make that much difference!”  (One of Hazel’s sisters, Floy Dell Garver Haring, had a brood of sixteen.)  Donna says that “Mom had one baby mid-bread-making—Fern stepped in and finished the bread.”  Walter was a farmer, raising hogs and milking cows on 40 acres, and in the 1930s, he did WPA work helping to build Route M61—by hand, with shovels. 

The Garvers in 1948 - Hazel and Walter front and center

The sisters were close, sharing everything.  In another story I told of Donna and Virginia writing to a sailor boy in WWII, who ended up as Donna’s future husband.  Two of the boys, Wayne and Forest, were in WWII on the Japanese island of Okinawa at the same time—and  one of them managed to slip away from his unit to see his brother—a story I should tell another time.

The fourteen surviving Garvers all grew up to marry and have children; my husband has 47 first cousins!  They all got along well through the years and as far as I can see, they still do.  Since 1948 the siblings have had a family reunion in Clare County every Labor Day weekend.  The group gets smaller every year, but no less close.  Last September there were only five of them still living—Forest, Donna, Virginia, Betty, and Marlyn—sister Fern being the most recent to leave this world.  This photo is from the 1982 reunion, when all fourteen were still alive.

Two of the brothers came to a tragic end…  In 2007 Max and his wife were killed in a fire in their house trailer, and that same year, Rex—who took over the family farm in the 1970s—was gored to death by a bull.  But through all the years and all the tragedies, the Garver siblings have stuck together, supporting each other in good times and bad, helping each other whenever they could, and meeting together on Labor Day to remember those who have passed and celebrate their strong family bond.  It’s a family I’m proud to have married into.