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widows and spinsters and feuds (oh my!)

Over the last month I’ve continued to burrow into the history of the General Allin house. The 1930 census had showed two families living in it, and deeds going back to the 1871 plat with a division line transecting the house showed that the west wing was separately owned. Now the ownership of the house has been fleshed back from the 20th century, and forward from the division of General Allin’s estate in 1802. Meeting in the middle has delivered a surprise and further complication — on the death of widow Amy Bicknell Allin in 1827, the portion of the house and farm property she held in dower (which had for some reason not been assigned residuary legatees under the General’s own probate), were subject to dispute by the heirs. “Allin et al. v. Carpenter et al.” reached the Court of Common Pleas of Bristol County, Rhode Island, which appointed a commission to divide the dower property in the winter following Amy’s death. Barrington land evidences do not include a copy of the outcome, but the commissioners’ report and division, with beautiful plat, are engrossed in the act book of the court, now at the Rhode Island Judicial Records Center.

The upshot is that the house (which appears as the little X’d-in chunk at the left of this plat detail) was at that point divided into three legal parcels. Two-thirds of the house had been set off to General Allin’s son William Allin back in 1802, who sold it to his brother-in-law Joseph Rawson, who still held it in 1828. Widow Amy Allin’s dower, including the other one-third of the house and some eighty acres of farmland, was subdivided into over a dozen carefully apportioned shares, including two shares which included rooms in the house and strips of adjacent land. Amy’s daughter, widow Nancy (Allin) Drown, received, as part of her one-sixteenth share of the whole dower property, “the South West Great Room on the lower floor of the Mansion House and Bedroom adjoining, and all that part of the Cellar under the Front Entry and Great room, lying South of a line drawn from the South side of the West Cellar window to the South side of the foundation of the Chimney,” with an adjoining strip of land (no. 15 on the plat). Nancy’s sister, Elizabeth Allin, spinster, was given, as a part of her one-sixteenth share, “the South West Great Chamber and Bedroom adjoining, the Garret West of the Garret stairs, and that part of the Cellar under the Great room lying North of a line drawn from the South side of the West Cellar Window to the South side of the foundation of the chimney,” with a bigger adjoining bit of land (no. 16 on the plat). Elizabeth Allin would go on to recover her sister Nancy’s part of the house and adjacent strip of property, though I haven’t found the instrument for this. Elizabeth then, in the 1850s, built a new west wing onto her part of the house. There may have been a handshake by which she passed her rooms in the old part of the house to the then owner of the remaining 2/3 of the old house after she built the west wing, because it seems that the house more naturally is divided into ‘old house’ and ‘new wing’ units (separated by a single doorway on both floors). This seems to be the division which would persist until 1950, rather than a more elaborate division which reflected 2/3 and 1/3 shares within the old house itself. But the floor plan west of the chimney mass in the old house has been somewhat altered on both floors, so it is hard to tell where the property line would have been understood to go. Only this year, for example, are we finally planning to restore daughter Elizabeth’s ‘southwest great chamber’ to its original proportions. Our own daughter, who is getting that room, will hopefully appreciate the restored symmetry of the great Georgian fireplace surround, with built-in cabinets — the finest original woodwork in the house, of which Amy and Elizabeth must have been proud:

(In this photo, imagine the wall on the left removed, and the room widened to include a matching cabinet left of the fireplace, which is now buried behind a cedar closet. Feel free to imagine the ceiling fan gone too…)

Lane family papers online!

Recently I was delighted to find the Lane Family Papers online at the website of the Bedford [Massachusetts] Historical Society. I had known about the papers through Whitmore’s transcription of them, running serially in the New England Historical & Genealogical Register beginning back in 1857, since 2006, when I wrote a long article on a similar set of 17th-century family papers belonging Edward1 Farmer of Billerica — but the Lane papers have the added appeal, for me, of being from a family I’m descended from (Lane is middle name, inherited from my great-great-grandmother who was of this line).
Though he’s mentioned in some other documents here, there is a single document created by my direct ancestor, James1 Lane of Malden and Casco, Maine — a power of attorney made out to his brother Job1 Lane of Malden and Bedford. Here is James’s mark and (non-armorial) seal:

At the core of the Lane papers is a collection of letters relating to the brother, Job1 Lane, especially material documenting his financial interest in English lands both from Job’s wife’s family in Yorkshire (the wife he married here, in New England), and from Job’s and James’s natal family at Rickmansworth, Hertfordshire. Fitts printed a photo of a house said to be the Lane ancestral farm (held as copyhold, I think, from the manor of Rickmansworth):

Looking at the ‘A2A’ online union catalogue of manuscripts in British archives, one can readily find further documents — a couple of bonds and releases by Job Lane of Malden, relating to the Rickmansworth Lanes’ land, and now held in an archive in London. The Rickmansworth church register includes at least some vital records of the Lane family which have not been published, as can be found in an extracted batch in the IGI. All this material, coupled with the Rickmansworth Lane wills already found and published back in Fitts’s Lane Genealogies, vol. 3 (1902), provides fodder for a new study of this family. These Lanes were middling (actually apparently reasonably secure) yeomen, but bringing such families into focus is more challenging than, and as much fun as, turning up a gentleman in the tree.

condominium!

Another revelation about our new old house. From the discovery of the amazing fifteen occupants in 1930, I knew the house had had its west wing rented out at the time. Further deed digging gave me a new conundrum: according to the town’s deed index, the owners of the house in 1930 seem to have bought it twice! The next day I was able to get back and read the deeds. As you’d guess the lot and house were actually subdivided and had changed hands independently several times in the later 19th century and beginning of the 20th. This detail, from a plat filed in 1871, shows a line running through the lot, carving off a chunk of the SW corner:

The lot line as drawn in here actually goes around the perimeter of the house (from the back left corner to the front door), but the deeds show that this lot accompanied the west wing of the house itself, and in the deeds a bounding line is described as going through the house. Actually, some of the language describing lot boundaries on various deeds doesn’t quite match up with preceeding or succeeding deeds. I hope there’s not a thin slice of the front lawn that got left out when the puzzle pieces were reunited, and now rightly belongs to somebody’s heirs in Arizona…

fifteen people lived here…

In 1930, our new house was pretty full. The census shows that Emanuel and Maria lived there with their eight daughters. Eight daughters. And, in the west wing (which back then boasted a separate street number) Ezra and Marian, renters, lived with three more daughters.

Eleven girls. Maybe their ages & surnames were faked, and it was a bordello.

colonial recycling, on the attic walls

A couple of days ago I posted on the eighteenth-century trigonometry homework on the walls of our attic. Now I have some pictures. The trigonometry, it turns out, was for the study of navigation. There are also legal papers and accounts, and the odd scrap of printing. I should explain the context you can see in some of the pictures. The attic originally had one or more rooms set off with butted vertical boards as the walls, nailed to a footer and to a collar tie (or some other head piece for the walls parallel to the roof). Papers were pasted to the boards so that they would cover the butted cracks, providing a sort of air barrier in the unheated attic rooms. At some point, perhaps the very early 20th century, many of these boards were pulled up, but some were left or repositioned, essentially to serve as studs for new lath and plaster partition walls (and cieling) of an attic room. You can see the lath in several of these pix. These boards still have strips of the paper, but only that part of the paper which lay on a single board, so the surviving papers consist of vertical strips, each less than a whole page width. Here are a few images (more after the jump):


The navigation paper in situ.

(Continued)

Allin house — the smokehouse

I mentioned earlier the space within the central chimney complex in our house. The description we were given of it — as a ‘hidey hole’ — hardly does it justice, and it would have been a pretty sooty place to hide. It is a glorious smoking chamber with probably 40 to 50 wrought nails in four or five ranks, allowing meats etc. to hang freely as the walls taper, first to a peak ridge, then further up the main flue where the backs of some of the second-floor flues are visible. Here are two views:

I haven’t been as far up it as I’d like (need better lights and some sort of short ladder). (Continued)

the draper’s apprentice: Arthur Mackworth

I’ve been working for some time now, albeit sporadically, on an article on the Shropshire Mackworths. Lately I’ve been in correspondence with an English Mackworth descendant, in Shropshire, who was introduced to me in correspondence by a mutual friend. Liz Roberts, who descends from the Betton Strange Mackworths, is a keen genealogist and actually volunteers at the Shropshire Record Office; she has been wonderfully helpful. She recently sent me a digital image of the 1613 record of apprenticeship of Arthur Mackworth of Deyhouse, Newton, Meole Brace, Salop., who is in all likelihood the man of that name and age who appears as a patentee of ‘Newton’, at Portland, Maine, in 1633.

Here I give a transcription of the apprenticeship document: (Continued)

four wills, four generations, four courts: the Allins of Barrington

I’ve begun to poke around in the history of the Allin family to see about the land and house. The attributed builder of our house is Thomas4 Allin (Matthew3, Thomas2, William1), who lived from 1742 to 1800. His great-grandfather, William1 Allin, had bought a portion of the original land purchased from the family of the Wampanoag chief Massasoit, in 1653, by a group of proprietors from the Plymouth colony. In the cold winter of 1680, the legend goes, William1 Allin allegedly transported his own house across frozen Narragansett Bay to Barrington (then part of Swansea), but it is impossible that this would have been the stone-ender attributed to him by Bicknell. Nevertheless an original Allin house anchored the parcel, but a second one must have existed on it by the latter part of the 18th century, suggesting a subdivision of the farm lands that can hopefully be found in wills and deeds.

Here are the Barrington Allins as I have them so far:

Straightforward enough. So where are the Allin wills? This is the odd part. (Continued)

she grew up here too: Elizabeth (Allin) Bicknell

Turns out Amy Allin’s sister has a picture in Bicknell’s Barrington too, Elizabeth Waldron Allin:

And well she should, since Elizabeth went on to marry her cousin (at least two different ways), Allin Bicknell; they were parents of Thomas W. Bicknell, the author. No wonder he seems to have felt a special attachment to our housefather.

UPDATE: No, she was his stepmother. The 1913 Bicknell Genealogy, also by Thomas W., gives more information: she married his father (then a widower) sometime around 1844, when Thomas was 10; they then moved into our house, which then belonged to her. His stepmother was by then an older spinster and had no children of her own. The Bicknells and Allins were much intermarried, but Bicknell had no Allin ancestry, even though his own father was named Allin Bicknell: the forename Allin had been chosen to commemorate a half-great uncle, Allin Bicknell, who did have an Allin mother, even though his later namesake had no Allin ancestry. Goes to show how such onomastic clues must be used warily!

Here is what Bicknell says about Thomas Allin and the house (p. 43-44): “Thomas Allin . . . was a farmer and land surveyor, owning about one hundred acres of his father’s farm in Barrington.” And: “The mansion he built in 1788 still stands at West Barrington, and has been occupied in part by his descendants until the present time.” And about his own father and stepmother (p. 173): “Allin Bicknell was a farmer, and until his second marriage cultivated a part of the original Bicknell estate, adjoining Princes Pond. This property was sold to Ebenezer Tiffany about 1844, and the family removed to the Gen. Thomas Allin homestead at West Barrington, the property of his second wife.” The first passage corroborates my thought that the original Allin lands were subdivided and a second house built, but it does not say when. The date of 1788 for Thomas Allin’s construction is interesting, close to the newer tradition of 1783, but distinct.

hige sceal the heardra: a possible descent from Maldon

In reviewing Stephen Baxter’s Earls of Mercia for The American Genealogist one thing that struck me was a possible descent from a casualty at the Battle of Maldon — even one of those whose stirring speeches are preserved in the great fragmentary Anglo-Saxon poem. Ealdorman Leofwine, founder of a dynasty of Mercian earls, might have been son of an Aelfwine, who himself might have been the man of that name who fell at the Battle of Maldon in 991, and appears in the poem. Aelfwine boasts about his descent from a “mighty kindred” in Mercia (whose memory he must not disgrace), and is the first to vow not to leave the battle after his own lord, duke Beorhtnoth, has fallen — he promptly wades back into the fray (to his own certain death) and fells a Dane with his spear. It is not he, but one of those who follows him into the fray, who voices the famous couplet —

This couplet has many translations. Though he declines to use as many of the cognates as some other translators, Tolkien’s may serve well:

Will shall be the sterner, heart the bolder,
spirit the greater as our strength lessens.

The descent from this Aelfwine would be through his great-great-granddaughter Ealdgyth, sister of earls Edwin and Morcar, and consort first of Gruffyd of Wales, and then of Harold Godwinson; her Welsh daughter Nest has countless traceable descendants.