Moments

“I was coming to the end of a long long walk
When a man crawled out of a cardboard box
Under the E. Street Bridge
Followed me on to it
I went out halfway across
With that homeless shadow tagging along
So I dug for some change
Wouldn’t need it anyway
He took it lookin’ just a bit ashamed
He said, You know, I haven’t always been this way”

Lyrics from the 2006 song titled “Moments” written by Annie Tate/Sam Tate/Dave Berg recorded by Emerson Drive.

Those words tore through me this past Saturday night when E.D. performed it at a charity event for Breast Cancer that my wife and I attended.

Not only because I have a big brother that the song could’ve been written for, but because this is a huge problem in America. We spend billions (BILLIONS) per month for a patch of dirt in the middle east that hovers over an ocean of oil while our own countrymen and women starve on the streets and sleep in cardboard boxes EVERY night!

These people are not throw away items like trash we can’t get nickels for from the recycle center. They are people, flesh and blood, people who’ve had moments in their life and find themselves down on their luck at the moment. They shouldn’t look at us and feel ashamed, we should look at them and feel ashamed that we can’t do more in this the greatest most powerful country on the planet!

Honor Thy Father!

If I had wrote this a few months back it would’ve been a hard subject to write on. My thoughts were confused and muddled. The man I’ve looked up to my lifetime, and than realized was as flawed as any, never treats me as anything more than his youngest son and I’m to still honor him? I don’t know if I could’ve done that.

 

My father made a comment to me not too long ago about how his Pastor told him “he looked to him as a father” or something like that. My Dad told me “that was the most awe inspiring thing anyone had ever said to him” or something like that. My first reaction was too bad your own children don’t feel that way, but later those words, although unspoken, began to burn and twist inside me.

 

I was 8 years old when his father passed away and so most of my memories of Grandpa are pictures painted in my mind over the years from different family member’s recollections. What I would surmise is Grandpa was a VERY hard working man, loving, honorable, trustworthy, kind and understanding. I think he was tough but bendable and I think he truly loved and was loved by his family.

 

If I’d written this a few months back I would’ve railed that my Dad was never there. Gone in the morning before we got up, and home late at night (during tax season) after we’d gone to bed. I would’ve unfairly said ours was a single income mixed family of 6 and we were mostly raised by my mother with financial backing from her parents.

 

I would’ve written, “You’ll learn by your mistakes” was the common response or attempt at parenting. I would’ve said, I vow to be upfront and honest with my kids so they have some ammunition to take into those critical situations, instead of cleaning up the mess afterwards with a “well, you’ll learn from your mistakes.”

 

If I would’ve written this a few months back I would’ve remembered way too vividly friends and colleagues saying, “didn’t your Dad ever teach you… how to shave, how to wipe your butt, how to tie a tie, etc.” I would’ve remembered a boss telling me I was a “great young man with absolutely no sense of direction.” Amazed I was raised by both my parents in my life. He told me I was living in a “Brady Bunch world” and needed to get into reality. I was 31 at the time.

 

Well, it’s been about 13+ years since that conversation and as I formed a not so flattering image of my father and his parenting skills during that time, I could’ve said my fragile ego had taken a beating from him. But there… that’s just it, isn’t it? Ego, pride, selfishness, I,I,I,I,I.

 

A few months ago I found Jesus again after a long winding dirt road away from him. Problems I was having at work, at home, in my relationships with family and friends I’m beginning to realize all centered around those evil things that had consumed me; pride, selfishness, ego you name it, I had it (still have it although I’m trying to beat them). I wore them like a shell keeping people from my real self, spewing self pity and hate, cutting people off with a false sense of self assurance all the while masking the true ignorance that lived inside me.

 

It was a sermon just those few months back where Pastor Ed Jenewein said the words that “clicked” in my head and I felt like a HUGE weight had been lifted. I forgave someone on that day and the feeling was literally like a slow “whoooosh” that started at my toes and rose through me and out my head and raised hands. Those weights had held me down for get this, 13+ years, sound familiar? A theme maybe?

 

13 some odd years ago I went through a divorce that left me devastated. I was emotionally and financially bankrupt, bitter and contempt. I blamed the breakup of my little family on my ex-wife, her actions and morals (or lack there of). I blamed my parents for not equipping me with “real world” knowledge that may have protected me from the blow I took. I, I, I, I, I. This was the time my boss made the statement of having no direction. This was the time I tried to become a CHP and when they asked about the “real” reasons I would not be accepted (alcohol, drug abuse, lying and stealing) I blamed my ex-wife and naivety. “Naivety? From 20-30 you were naïve?” “Yes, my parents sheltered me and I didn’t grow up until recently.”

 

Well, I told myself and anyone who cared to listen those lies for so long that I began to believe them. I have always said (judgmentally) if there is one common denominator to all the bad things happening to you and around you, maybe it’s time to look at the common denominator. I never took my own advice, I never looked in the mirror.

 

13 years of bitterness, self-pity, arrogance, pride all gone in a “whooooosh!” And so, my WALK began, slowly and still seeking more, but it was on! And while I’ve never been alone, for the first time in my life I realized GOD was right beside me, all along, and for my entire life. How could’ve I wasted so much precious time? If I ever want an example of God standing beside me and working his plan even when I didn’t care to believe, I just need to look back at these past 13 years.

 

How else could Tina ever have come into my life (and stayed through this all) if God wasn’t working his plan for me? I was older, divorced, with a child and making nothing. I was bitter and contempt, selfish and hoarding. She was young and single with no attachments. Beautiful and vibrant and teaching me how to deal with people. How to take the steam out of an argument, how to talk to people, how to respect people, how to love. It’s taken me 13 years to come to this realization and the fact that she is still beside me is a holy testament to the Grace of God.

 

13 years ago I was naïve, through no ones fault but my own. But it was at that time that I did finally try to be a man. To step up and own up to my responsibilities. I struggled to find myself and separate myself from my father. I listened to all the tripe and instead of defending the man who gave me life; I allowed the words to infect me, to creep over me and cast this ugly shadow that fed my ego and eased my own personal demons.

 

Now fast forward to the past few weeks, Tina and I have been taking a “Parenting” class through our church (Growing kids God’s way) and one of our lessons was to teach our children how to honor and respect their parents and elders. One of my reasons for going to church with Tina at all (initially) was to show a good example to my son, Aric. I had left that up to the Christian schools for my daughter Mandy that we sent her to. The problem with that however is I gave her the power to set the example or get it from others rather than directly from her Father, the coward who was me.

 

It dawned on me that if I want my kids to honor and respect me I have to model that behavior with my own parents (duh!!!). Just like my reasons for going to church, I need to take the lead and set the example. For Mandy, unfortunately she has grown up during this tumultuous 13 year period and so alot of her opinion of me and Grandpa will have come from that. While I’m not giving up (never give up) I think I’ll have more success with Aric.

 

And so each day now I try and let God’s LOVE rain over me and wash away not only my sins but my hardness, my ego, my arrogance and most importantly my selfishness. Humble is the word I long to be referred to as, I aspire to. Which brings me full circle back to my Father. Maybe it’s still too soon or too raw, the feelings, maybe I should change my perspective as I critique him and what he means to me. If I was pretty much an “outsider looking in” in my evaluation of my Grandfather, how would my Dad look through those same glasses?

 

Let’s see, he supported a wife and six kids on one income and a side job of taxes during their season. He was always singing and whistling and squeezing Momma when he had the chance. He gave of his spare time to be President of my Little League for years. He never missed one of my junior high basketball games even though they were played during his work hours (still don’t know how he managed that). He was firm but fair and us kids had a healthy fear of him when we did wrong. He put up money when he could but more importantly he put his sweat into things that were important to me; painting, cars, practically rebuilding the entire mobile home I lived in with my ex. I could go on and I’m probably missing many other important items, but you get the picture.

 

I guess the outsider would describe him as follows… “What I would surmise is Al is a VERY hard working man, loving, honorable, trustworthy, kind and understanding. I think he is tough but bendable and I think he truly loves and is loved by his family.”

 

Hmmm, sounds like he’s just like his father before him and someone I can aspire to emulate. Sounds like someone who should be honored and respected. Sounds like I woke up just in time!

George W. Ferguson, No. 1 with a Bullitt!

Years ago I attempted to create a family newsletter. I sent it to all the addresses I had and asked the recipients to forward me addresses of anyone they thought might like to be included. It was a double-sided letter sized paper with research stories, pictures and family recipes. I asked for readers to submit stories or areas of interest, even their favorite recipes. I got absolutely no response. Not one return letter, so the extent of my family newsletter lasted exactly that one issue.

 

The reason I even bring it up was in the top corner of that first (and only) newsletter was a blurb about what was coming in my next issue; “the search for George Russell Ferguson.” Well, 15 years later I’m finally writing that article and this time it’s actually a few generations deeper.

 

In my Ferguson research I had tracked and purchased a certified copy of George Russell’s wedding certificate. On it were two new names that I never had; his father George W. Ferguson and his mother, Harriet Jeffries. My mind raced and new possibilities opened. I found Harriet (widow of George W.) living with her son George Russell in an 1891 Peoria City directory. I started back tracking from there, using census records to try and find George W.

 

Also listed in this city directory were Ferguson’s that I assumed were George Russell’s older brothers, Ira, Elias, Warren. My assumptions came from a photo album of George Bee Ferguson’s (my Great-grandpa and George Russell’s son) that called them Uncle. Stuff like, “here we are out at Uncle Ira’s place” or “cool comfort with Uncle Elias.” So backwards (and sometimes sideways) I went in search of GW. And since most of the 1890 US census was lost in a great fire, the 1880 US census was my next destination.

 

To this day I have not yet found George Russell who would’ve been 10 at the time, nor brother Elias or mother Harriet. I did find Ira though, living with another brother, Levi, in Richwoods, Peoria, IL. Brother Warren was in the Peoria city jail. Now, the interesting thing about Great-great-uncle Levi was his listed state of birth, Kentucky. I had North Carolina as George W.’s state of birth and Indiana as mother Harriet’s (from the wedding certificate), so Kentucky to have a child kind of was like a step backwards in the normal migration pattern of NC-IN-IL.

 

Next stop, the 1870 Federal census and I found our little family in Richwoods, IL (where Levi would stay for 20+ years) in a surprising location. At first glance it appeared mother Harriet was living with her children in a brothel. When I mentioned this to my wife she observed (maybe a little too quickly), “well your Ferguson side has always been entrepreneurs’ and your Marshall’s always worked for others.” While I pondered her keen observation I noticed that the address changed when the census taker enumerated mother Harriet, so they didn’t live in the brothel, but on the adjoining farm. Whew!

 

Made me think though, how would you like to be looking up your ancestor’s and find that great-great-granny was “Boss Hoar” at age 16? Or great-great-grandpa was listed as a “fancy cuss.” What’s a “fancy cuss” anyway? I can come to a couple of conclusions and none of them I’d want for my relatives. Well, more on this later I think, but for now, back to that funny 1870 census.

 

A couple of things struck me odd about that census. Another family name is there, a girl named Lana aged 2, and both George W. and George R. are missing. I found George W. in the Mortality schedule as passing in September of 1870 and George R.’s records had him born in Peoria, in June of that year. The census was enumerated on the 15^th of July 1870 so both would be alive at that point, George R. only a month old. Where are they? Could both of them be in the hospital? Did they even have a Peoria County Hospital in 1870? Just another turn for the elusive George Russell Ferguson!

 

So since I couldn’t find either George in 1870 rather than stop I decided to tackle the 1860 US census. Since the 1870 showed Elias, Julia and Warren born in Indiana that’s where I headed. I quickly found George W. and his family in Harrison, Clay Co., Indiana. Harriet, Levi, Elias, Julia and Warren are all there and everyone of the kids are listed as born in Indiana, with the exception of Levi who has Kentucky listed. Not a lot there other than confirmations on brothers and sisters so I turned my attention to the 1850 Federal census.

 

For the longest time I couldn’t find George W. no matter how I searched. I couldn’t find Levi (although I wasn’t sure of his birth date and it was possible he wasn’t born yet) and I couldn’t find Harriet. Then I stumbled onto something completely by blind luck that opened the flood gates as far as my Ferguson research was concerned. There in a little unincorporated part of Bullitt Co., Kentucky was George W. Furgurson. That’s right, “FURGURSON.” Wife Harriet and son Levi, 5 months old were right beside him. While this was a huge find the best part was who were living with them. Mother Catherine, brothers Hamilton and Samuel, sister Elizabeth and a young boy named James M. Rictor who I’ve since found will be related to the family as a step son to one of George’s cousins. But that’s not for a couple more years so why he is living with them at this time is unknown.

 

So Bullitt County Kentucky has turned out to be a treasure trove of Ferguson family data. Two large families, one led by a Richard (b. 1774 VA) the other F.S. (b. abt 1790). Catherine is the widow of F.S. so our GW has a father now. And while there is no concrete proof that Richard and F.S. are related, that little James M. Rictor that was living with our GW in 1850? He is related to Richard through his step-mother Airy who is Richards daughter. So, I will continue to research this elusive line. I need to find F.S. and his place of birth. I would also like to officially tie Richard and F.S. together. Lots of work still to do, but lots has been found and I’m a new fan of Kentucky state and the amount of genealogy they have online.

 

We’ll keep you posted as I find more and hopefully it won’t take me another 15 years between searches!

American History

I was at a bar this past weekend in Tempe, AZ watching the NCAA basketball tourney and the bartender (a pretty blonde who was paying her way through ASU) offered my buddy and I a “tester” of the new Sam Adams “Pale Ale” or something like that. First off, I didn’t really care for it; don’t remember the name and the bitter aftertaste left me unenthused, no doubt. Secondly, and why I remember the beer at all, I was telling my buddy that I was related to Sam Adams (3^rd cousin, 8 times removed) when the bartender says, “what? Samuel Adams is an actual person?” “Uhhh, yes, I said, one of the signers of our Declaration of Independence and one of our Founding Fathers!” She was truly embarrassed and tried to pass it off as a “blonde” moment, but she wasn’t a “real” blonde and this wasn’t a joke or stupid bar trivia.

I wasn’t about to “educate” this University senior on American History, but I was a little saddened how quickly we forget our past and those who put their lives on the line to give us the freedom we so enjoy today. This young woman is a representative of the youth of America who will have a hand in carving out what our Country will be like for my senior years and my children’s future. I don’t want to rant, and I’m certainly in no position to judge, so I’ll just leave it at that. I’m a little sad when in an election year, a historic time in our lives, we so easily forget our short, 200+ year history and why we even have the right to vote for a person of our choosing in the first place.

Speaking of American History and the Adams family, anyone else getting the chance to see the remarkable adaption of the David McCullough book, John Adams? HBO is showing a 7-part mini-series and it is phenomenal. Paul Giamatti as John Adams (another 3^rd cousin, 8 times removed, well this is a genealogy blog, right?), Laura Linney as Abigail Adams nee Smith (America’s first real feminist) have both been mesmerizing. McCullough’s book breathed new life into Adam’s and many more of our founding fathers. Giamatti’s portrayal is “spot on” and just another reason why he is one of America’s greatest actors. I highly recommend both, the book and the HBO mini-series!

I’ve had many reasons to write as of late but since I don’t get paid to do so, and it takes away deserved attention to my wife and family, you can see it’s been awhile. I’ll try to get back to my research and genealogical blurbs soon. I’ve got a couple of funny anecdotes in regards to my Ferguson side. Can’t wait to share, thanks for reading.

Suckers!

We got this lesson at Church last week about “suckers”. Suckers are the shoots that come out of the bottom of fruit trees. They can flower and be pretty, but they don’t bear fruit they just “suck” the life out of the tree, so we trim them. We have “suckers” in our life too, things that are pretty or make us happy but don’t really bear fruit, they just “suck” time out of our life, and we need to trim them as well. 

For me, watching so much TV is a sucker, I could be much more productive with that time. Even my genealogy needs to be trimmed because I can get lost in the time spent and that becomes a “sucker.” I’m not going to preach to anyone, I’m just saying I’ve learned a new perspective, I have many “suckers” and the more I trim the better my life and all those who I come into contact will be. 

I think suckers are also bad habits and when you have a lifetime of bad habits, they’re not going to change over night. It’s a constant battle and I personally need reaffirmation all the time (so YES people, I’m going to Church now, regularly). But, like an addict, the first part is admitting you have a problem, and I’m admitting it. I don’t want to be the family asshole, who shoots his mouth off without care of other peoples feelings. I want to have peace, peace in my heart, peace in others around me. I don’t want to be the crusty guy who everyone thinks is funny, but no one really wants to be around or is afraid they’ll be the next target of.  

I want to have a positive influence on those around me and in order to get that I have to heal myself within. Stop judging, stop casting stones, start caring, start feeling. No more excuses of “no time”, trim the suckers back if not all the way out and make the time to be the person I want to be. The person God sees me as and my family can take inspiration from!

Another Tragedy!

Our prayers go out to the victims of both the NIU and EO Green school shooting tragedies.

Matthew 5:4
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

And let me just add there were many victims here, on both sides of the triggers. The families of those who lost their lives, as well as all those who witnessed these horrifying events; they’re lives have been forever altered.

I wrote and rewrote this opinion several different ways over the course of today. I ranted about lots of different things but kept coming back to it and rewriting it.

You don’t need a lecture during this time, certainly not one from me of all people. Children are dead today and honestly there is no reason for it. Any spin you try to put on it is just an excuse.

Hug and kiss your children everyday. Tell them and SHOW them how much you love them. And most importantly, be the example for them to grow up into and out of!

Revelation 21:4
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

The Candyman

Joseph Songi, c. 1830

Here is the Candyman himself. This is a photo I received years ago of Joseph Songi. Can you tell if he’s Italian, French or Russian? It’s still undecided.

It’s been noted before that Joseph traveled to and from the “continent” several times. He said himself in the London Times article that he was married in 1798 in Lake Como, Italy. But nowhere have we found evidence he was born in Italy.

Family history states he was the pastry chef for the Russian ambassador in Italy. That could mean he was Russian as custom was for the Ambassador’s to bring their staff from their home country. If this was the case however, why was he exiled to England?

Was he French? I’ve found a large number of Songi’s originating from France. Many immigrated to America and settled in the one time French possession of Louisiana. It could easily be conceived that Joseph headed to Italy and when Napoleon rolled through he exiled to England rather than back to a Napoleonic France.

Not sure at this point, but I’m willing to listen to any and all theories. Facts wouldn’t bother me either!

02/19/2008 Note: I was going through old pictures and certificates this past weekend (a new separate post will come from that) and realized when I looked at the back of this picture it is not our Candyman but his son, Joseph Jr. Also a Candyman but born in England and that would probably make this picture from around 1850 or so.

Ralph Marshall and Our English Marshall’s revisited!

Originally posted Friday, October 12, 2007 on Blogger!

I have been kicking around and ultimately dreading revisiting what I’ve found in regards to Ralph (see previous post titled “Our English Marshall’s”) and his four siblings that had seemingly come from an incestuous relationship between my Great-Great-Grandpa Richard Marshall and his sister Jane.

I’ve said before in this space how I’ve been somewhat obsessed with GGG Richard. He was ultimately who I take my name from. My dad named me Richard because he always liked the name and I’m thinking my Great-Uncle Dick Fitzpatrick had something to do with that. Uncle Dick was presumably named for his Grandpa and my GGG Richard Marshall of Cornwall.

Now family stories (and I can’t remember who said it, sorry) state Richard committed suicide at an early age and census records said he was a painter. I immediately conjured up the image of a tortured artist who ended his misunderstood life. I mean his father was “Keeper” at the Bodmin Asylum when Richard was born and eventually Richard joined his father as an attendant at the Asylum. It was there that he met his wife, Jane Lane, who also was an attendant. So see tortured soul isn’t too far a stretch really, is it?

And when you put his job descriptions together (assistant keeper, house decorator, painter) you can see why I jumped to the conclusion of a possible tortured artist who couldn’t take it anymore. The problem however with most of my assumptions is the facts don’t seem to back them up. House decorator was something of a “butler” I’m told or “gentlemen’s attendant,” which is in line with the work he did at the Asylum in Cornwall. The painter probably arose from that, not actually an artist but a “house” painter (?). When I received Richard’s death certificate recently it gave me a whole new perspective. The underlying factor in his death at age 48 (not by suicide btw) was lead poisoning (obviously from the painting). Something he had been dealing with for 15 years apparently.

15 years of languishing from the effects of lead poisoning led to many other anomalies (Hemophilia, Asthenia, strokes, cystic fibrosis among others). And while I’m sure the incest had something to do with the birth defects of the surviving children (and the deaths of the other two), the effects from the lead poisoning had to have also. Who knows what the years of working in the Asylum would’ve done to his psyche in those harsh times of the late 1800’s. Couple in the death of his wife and partner, effects from lead poisoning and his subservient sister’s arrival to take care of my young Great Grandfather Albert, tortured soul might not be too far off the track.

Which all leads us back to Poor Uncle Ralphie in an off beat, ‘cart before the horse’ sort of way. My suspicions had been that Ralph’s (and Florrie, Leonard, Charles and Ethel) mother was not Jane Lane as their brother’s (my Great-Grandpa Albert E. the 1^st) was, but Jane Marshall, their biological Aunt. Although I have yet to find Jane Marshall nee Lane’s death documented anywhere, family history tells us it was around 1887. And yes, I know, this is the same family history that said Richard committed suicide, but bear with me on this one.

Both Ralph and Leonard’s (I haven’t got Florrie, Charles or Ethel’s yet) birth certificates state the father as Richard and the mother as Jane Marshall nee Talling. Now that is one of two people, neither of which bodes well to dispel the incest allegation. It is either Richard’s 70+ year old Mother Jane Marshall nee Talling or his sister who was still a Marshall and had no maiden name so used her Mother’s. The 1891 UK census shows Jane as “sister” with the correct birth date information. The presumably same Jane is listed as “spouse” in the 1901 UK census. When Richard died at home of complications brought on by the 15 years of lead poisoning, it was Jane Marshall “sister” who reported it and signed the death certificate.

I still need to find and confirm Jane Marshall nee Lane passed away in or around 1887 and without DNA evidence it will always be just speculation or circumstantial evidence, but unfortunately for me anyway, I’m pretty sure GGG Richard went off the reservation and slept with his sister at least FIVE times.

It isn’t over either, I mean it could’ve been a cousin named Jane Talling and first cousin or not that would be better than his sister right? I’ll keep digging but I wonder, if it were incest, how did my ancestors feel about this whole lurid affair. I mean in the 1901 UK census Mother Jane Marshall nee Talling is living with GGG Richard and his “spouse” Jane. Florrie, Ralphie and Leonard had already been born at this time, Charles and Ethel had both passed. What did Mother Jane think, did she condone it, did she recommend it, did it anguish her?

What about my Great-Grandpa Bertie? He would’ve been about 10 when his Mom passed and 13 or 14 when all this stuff was happening. He was definitely old enough to know the difference between his Mother and his Auntie. Did he have a relationship at all with Step-Mom/Auntie Jane? Did he have a relationship with Florrie or Ralphie or Leonard? It almost feels like the Songi’s “adopted” my Great-grandpa Bert as he was entirely immersed in their culture by 1901 when he was marrying my Great-grandma Amy Marshall-Fitzpatrick nee Songi. Maybe he was embarrassed or mortified by the connection. Why else was he found as witness to his older sisters marriages but none of his half-siblings are anywhere in his dealings.

And what about my Grandpa Albert C. Marshall? He was 16 when he left for America with his family and new Step-Dad John Fitzpatrick. Obviously old enough to know about his poor Uncle Ralphie living right down the street. What did he think of this whole mess, did he know, or were they kept from this side of the family? When the family sailed for America it was William John Songi who came to see them off and the same Songi family that corresponded with “Tiny Grandma” (Amy Fitzpatrick) once they were stateside.

No other mentions of the Marshall’s left behind, in fact, I’m not sure if my Dad or his sisters even knew there were other Marshall’s still in England when their Daddy brought our name to California. If I am the first in our line to find them and bring them back to life, well I’m pretty proud of that. The possible story about them? Not so proud. But, really, when I try to picture my Great-Uncle Ralphie being diagnosed as “slow”, a man who “with great effort” can manage to spell his name only, whose only work was a “little tidying up for Mother” whose chest was not fully developed and suffered from partial blindness. I don’t get disgusted by the fact he may be a product of incest, I get sad at the treatment he must’ve bared for his mental retardation and the cruel lack of knowledge people had towards that in those days. I feel for how his life ended, in the barracks cleaning up, not in the arms of his Mother who was just blocks away and had cared for him his entire life.

I don’t know what it is about this mental picture I’ve created of Ralphie, but I can’t get him out of my head and I’m not done with his story. I’ll press on and good or bad I’ll bring back the facts, all with my arm around that big lug, my Great-Uncle Ralph!

Joseph Songi Sr., the not so sweet Candyman! - Revisited

Originally posted Wednesday, September 19, 2007 on Blogger!

Okay, I found the article on the 15^th that started this mess and it’s not pretty, nor does it appear to be the first time.

The Times (London, Middlesex, England)

Saturday, June 15^th, 1833

Marlborough Street. – Joseph Songi, a foreigner carrying on an extensive business as a confectioner at 269, Regent-street, and a gaily-dressed female, assuming the name of Theresa Songi, were charged yesterday by the wife of the former with having violently assaulted her.

The complainant, who has been frequently at this office in consequence of the ill usage of her husband, from whom she has been for some time parted, stated that having had occasion to apply at his house in Regent-street for payment of three weeks’ arrears of the pittance of 7s. per week which he allowed her for her and her children’s support, she was assaulted by her husband and the female with whom he cohabited, and she was thrust ultimately into the street.

Mr. Dyer remarked that the last time the parties were before him he had hoped the defendant, Joseph Songi, had come to some sense of decent feeling towards his wife; but, from what he now heard, he was afraid he had been mistaken.

The defendant (Joseph Songi) replied, that he could not afford to keep up the payment of 7s. a week to his wife.

Mr. Dyer could not believe that a person occupying such a house as the defendant did, and apparently carrying on such an extensive business, could not pay the small sum he had consented to allow his wife.

The wife said that it was a very hard case for her, after having been his wife for 24 years, and having had a family by him, to be turned out of a home to make room for the female who was flaunting in finery before them. When her husband brought that young woman home he told her she was his daughter; but she had not been in the house two days before she discovered and improper intercourse existed between them; and, because she would not consent to an arrangement infamously immoral, she was ill used, and ultimately turned out of doors.

Mr. Dyer remarked, that he felt assured her character and conduct were irreproachable, for he had seen many written testimonials from persons of consideration, all speaking in the highest manner of her, and it was quite lamentable to observe the situation in which the behaviour of her husband had placed her.

After some further conversation, the warrant was discharged, upon the male defendant paying the arrears, and entering into his own recognizance to keep the peace towards his wife for three months, and also becoming surety for the future good behaviour of the women.

So, not so nice Candyman at all, right? Brings back a young girl from the “continent” and kicks his wife to the curb. This “Theresa Songi” who has been passed off as a cousin and daughter was a gold digger for sure and even got the old man to try and renounce his parentage of the two boys, Joseph Jr. and John. I’m sure when Joseph Sr. passed on, the ownership of the confectioner’s shop got “sticky” pun intended. I’ll try and find more and get back to everyone.

Joseph Songi Sr., the not so sweet Candyman!

Originally posted Thursday, September 13, 2007 on Blogger
For years I have been chasing my Italian forefather Joseph Songi. Family history stated he was born about 1785 in Lake Como, Italy. He served as the pastry chef for the Russian Ambassador and was exiled to England (probably when Napoleon rampaged in the early 1810’s). In England he opened and maintained a confectioner’s shop in what I’m told is now Picadilly Square, London.

He married Elizabeth Cranham about 1815 and they had two sons, Joseph Jr. born about 1815/16 and John, born about 1816/17. The family history stated the confectioner’s shop was opened in 1828 at 269 Regent St. Joseph supposedly died during an Cholera outbreak in 1831/32. About 1833 Elizabeth moved around the corner to 22, Gt. Castle Street where she started a dressmaking business with her widowed sister, Mrs. Ann Holman. The family still owned and operated the Regent St. business until 1840, although no longer living on the premises. Later another widowed sister, Mrs. Maria Santi went to live with Elizabeth and Ann.

Clear as mud right? Wrong. I can find no references to the name in Songi in Italy. Some refer to a “Songia” family that lived down the mountain from Lake Como, so possibly. The Songi name is prominent in France (and came to America in Louisiana as Songy) and have found reference to a Songi family in Estonia (Baltic state that was swallowed up by Russia for a time). My sister Janell has said in the past that the Ambassadors usually brought their staff’s with them. This would make Joseph Russian and the Estonia find backs that up. Plus, it’s never been proven that Joseph was born in Lake Como, just that he came from Lake Como, Italy as a “political exile”.

There are references that he made trips back and forth “to the continent” and I’m not sure if this is Italy or France. But one thing I did find is Joseph was alive in June of 1833, not dead of Cholera like previously believed. Apparently as you’ll see below, Jos. Sr. took out a paid advertisement in the form of a “letter to the editor” to try and rid himself of his wife and the 7 sterling per week he was ordered to pay…

The Times (London, Middlesex, England)

Saturday, June 22^nd, 1833

(Advertisement)

To the Editor of the Times

Sir, - As a tradesman anxious to maintain his character among his numerous connexions, I have to request, as an act of justice, the privilege of inserting in your columns a few words in answer to a report of the proceedings at the police-office, Marlborough-street, in your paper of the 15^th inst., a report which, if allowed to pass unexplained, is calculated to do me considerable injury.

I am there charged with deserting my wife and children, and refusing to pay the sum of 7s. per week for their maintenance.

In justice to myself, I most solemnly declare, that the female who assumed the character of Mrs. Songi is not my wife, nor has any legal claim upon me. Upwards of 24 years since I unfortunately contracted an intimacy with her, and have, until her conduct became highly improper, paid every attention to her wants and comforts, and treated her in every way as a wife. We have now been separated for more than eight years, at which time she voluntarily left me; and of her family (two sons) the eldest is with me as an assistant, and the youngest, who is now 18 years of age, I have, at considerable pains and expense, fully instructed in every department of the confectionary business, and enabled him to gain a respectable livelihood.

I would further beg to notice, that the complainant is stated to have produced a marriage certificate; such was not the fact, the document produced being a license for marriage, and which was obtained without my privity of consent. My only marriage took place in the Cathedral Church of Como, in Italy, in the year 1798, with the mother of my daughter Therese Songi, now with me; full proof of which I can at any time produce, both by documentary evidence and the testimony of many persons of the highest character, natives of this country, and Italy.

I have the honour to be, Sir, your very obedient servant,

269, Regent-street, June 19. JOSEPH SONGI

So what did I take from this. Well, quite a lot really. Looks like Joseph first consummated his relationship with Elizabeth around 1810. If Jos. Jr. came around then (Sr. isn’t claiming them above “her family”) he’d be born probably 1811/12 not 1816 like previously believed. John “who is now 18” would put his birthday around 1815 not 1817 like previously thought. Also, he doesn’t say anything about being born in Lake Como, just married there, in 1798, which means he would be 13 if born in 1785 like we thought. And if they had truly been separated for 8 years, Elizabeth probably moved into the Gt. Castle location earlier than 1833. I think he was paying support and when John came of age he didn’t want to shell it out anymore. The paid advertisement above prompted a tearry eyed rant to the local magistrates that was reported in the same Times just two days later.

The Times (London, Middlesex, England)

Monday, June 24^th, 1833

Marlborough Street. – Mrs. Songi, wife of Mr. Joseph Songi, the confectioner in Regent Street, came on Saturday to this office in great distress of mind, to complain to the sitting magistrates that her husband had, under the colour of an advertisement, made use of the columns of The Times newspaper to add another to the many injuries she has already sustained from him, by public denial that she was his wife, - a falsehood which, if allowed to go uncontradicted, would have the effect of destroying her little business as a dressmaker, by which she supported herself and children, and would deprive her of the protection and countenance of those persons of consideration who were acquainted with her story and who commiserated her situation.

Mr. Dyer – If Mr. Songi has inserted anything injurious towards you, it has been paid for as an advertisement, as you will perceive from that word having been placed over his letter to the editor. I have read the letter, and every word it contains is directly opposed to the facts which have been proved at this office. The letter has given me great surprise, and I am quite at a loss to conceive how Mr. Songi could have brought his mind to write it. My opinion of his conduct is such that I will not trust myself to speak my sentiments of it.

Mrs. Songi – He says that he never was married to me. I have my certificate at this moment in my pocket.

Mr. Dyer – On a former occasion when you were here you proved incontestably that you were his wife. You produced your marriage certificate, and the clerk of St. James Church, who gave you away, came forward and immediately identified Mr. Songi as your husband.

Mr. Conant – I recollect the circumstances of the case perfectly. I never knew a marriage more distinctly proved.

Plank, the chief officer – Your worships will probably recollect that Mr. Songi said the certificate produced at that time was forged, and you then directed the case to stand over in order to procure the attendance of the clerk of St. James’s, who, when he came, instantly pointed out Mr. Songi, and proved the certificate to be genuine.

Mr. Dyer – Yes, and I said at the time that Mr. Songi’s denial was so extraordinary I was determined to have it fully investigated. The result was that the magistrates ascertained your story to be true, and an order was made for Mr. Songi to allow you 7s. per week for your maintenance. When Mr. Songi was here a few days ago for assaulting you, I complimented him upon what I considered to be symptoms of a better feeling on his part, because he abstained from a denial of facts which I have no hesitation in saying have been fully borne out by evidence.

Mrs. Songi – It is cruel on his part to insert such a letter. It will ruin my little business, for no one will now admit me into their house, unless my character is cleared from this aspersion. This Therese Songi, whom he calls his “daughter” in the letter, has been the cause of all my unhappiness. When my husband first brought her from the continent, he introduced her into the house as his “niece” but I soon discovered this to be false, and this connexion has led to my being deprived of a home. This young woman has embittered the mind of my husband against his wife and children.

Mr. Dyer – We are perfectly ready to bear testimony, should it be needed, to your general good character and propriety of conduct, and I feel quite assured that the course pursued by Mr. Songi to injure you will have quite another effect.

Mr. Conant – You have produced to us excellent testimonials of character, and I have no objection to say that I have known you many years, and can bear testimony to your unblemished character and conduct.

Mrs. Songi, who was in tears during the conversation, after expressing her gratitude to the magistrates, quitted the office.

Alright, I didn’t get any dates out of this except that maybe the 15^th is when Joseph assaulted Elizabeth. I’m trying to find the report in the Times that prompted Joseph to pay for his story on the 22^nd. What I did get is Jos. Sr. brought back a little filly from the “continent” and tried to pass her off as his “niece” to his family. The story changed to “daughter” when all the ugliness started. I haven’t found proof of a marriage that Elizabeth had in hand when she went before the Magistrates. Nor have I found birth/death information on Joseph Sr. I’ll keep searching and when I find something, I’ll report it back to everyone here.