Witness to Patent for a New Flag Badge

There is only one man named D'Alva in my husband's family tree: D'Alva Mosse (1839-1874) married hubby's 1c4r Nancy Larimer (1845-1929) in San Francisco, California, in 1865. D'Alva had been in the California Gold Rush as a preteen, helping miners pan for gold. Nancy's mother had also been in the Gold Rush, baking bread and taking in laundry while her brother panned for gold. Neither hit the jackpot, both went  on to settle in San Francisco. 

D'Alva began to work for his father, Daniel H.T. Mosse (1816-1891), who was a San Francisco bookseller and merchant of stationery and imported goods. Even after he married Nancy, D'Alva continued to be part of his father's retailing concern. 

As D'Alva and Nancy's family grew, he went out on his own with a toy store. Their first-born girl, named for D'Alva's mom Mildred, unfortunately died before her first birthday. The couple had two more daughters, Elfie and Alice.

Being part of the downtown San Francisco business community, D'Alva made the acquaintance of Nathan Joseph, who made and sold badges worn by firefighters, police officers, and other groups. (Nathan's place of business was within walking distance of D'Alva's store.) Nathan had a colorful career, involving fractional gold pieces, jewelry, badges, and curios of all types. Read more about him here. Ad above, from 1885, shows Nathan offering his badges for sale in Nevada.

In August of 1871, Nathan Joseph filed a patent for a new design for a flag badge, shown at top, and D'Alva Mosse was one of two witnesses to this patent. Whether Mosse ever purchased such badges from Joseph for sale in his store, I don't know, but it was interesting to see their names together on this patent page.

D'Alva's story has a sad ending. On June 5, 1874, he was home alone, having been quite ill for several weeks. His wife Nancy was tending to the store in his absence. Unfortunately, D'Alva somehow got hold of a pistol and fatally shot himself, leaving behind a grieving widow and two young daughters.

I'm remembering D'Alva Mosse, former Gold Rush miner, businessman, son, husband, and father, on the 150th anniversary of his death.

A Family of Tradesmen = My Summer Favorite In-Laws

This summer, my favorite in-laws (in my husband's family tree) are the Cornwell family, a multigenerational family of silversmiths/watchmakers/jewelry store proprietors. 

Asenath Cornwell (1808-1897) married James Larimer (1806-1847), my hubby's 3d great-grand uncle. As I posted a few months ago, Asenath was widowed early and made the bold decision to go to the Gold Rush with her brother, John Cornwell, in 1852. Brother and sister wrote journals of their journey and experiences. The journals are fascinating first-person accounts of that time and place. 

John Cornwell (1812-1883) was a lifelong jeweler, watchmaker, and silversmith. He understood the value of gold and was sorely disappointed not to find very much during his Gold Rush years. No doubt his family was disappointed as well, since his wife and children remained in Athens, Ohio, when he was panning for gold in California. Occasionally John put gold dust into a letter for his wife Ann, but he never struck it rich. 

Returning to Athens in 1856, John opened the jewelry store that successive generations of Cornwell descendants operated until 2019. As shown in the Census lines at top, John's occupation in 1860 was watchmaker, in 1870 it was silver smith, and in 1880 it was jewelry (creatively spelled).

John's son David Coleman Cornwell (1844-1938) served in Company B of the 141st Regt of the Ohio Volunteer Infantry during the US Civil War. After the war, he followed the family trade, becoming a silversmith and jeweler. Retiring in his 60s, David was already twice widowed. 

Still, he couldn't stop thinking about a young lady he used to know from Athens, Ellen Jane Sams (1855-1938). Somehow David tracked her down in Illinois, according to a news report in May of 1909, discovered she too had been widowed, and quickly proposed. They were happily married for 29 years until Ellen's death in 1938. David died just a few months later. 

With colorful stories like these, you can see why the Cornwell in-laws are my summer favorites.

"Tradesman" is Amy Johnson Crow's genealogy prompt for this week in her #52Ancestors series. 

Gold Rush Diaries Chip Away Brick Wall

Who knew that Asenath Cornwell Larimer (1808-1897) wasn't the only one in her family to keep a diary of the difficult journey from Ohio to California during the Gold Rush era? 

Asenath: wife, mother, widow, sister, Gold Rush participant

Asenath married hubby's 3d great uncle, James Larimer (1806-1847) in Fairfield, Ohio. They had six children together and were pioneer farmers in Indiana before he was thrown from a horse and died one winter evening. 

Widowed with five youngsters at home, she sold her share of the family farm and joined with her brother John and others to try to strike it rich in California. They embarked on this risky venture on Tuesday, March 16, 1852. Asenath kept a written journal of the experience, which I've blogged about before. She briefly mentioned her parents, but nothing concrete enough to track them down by name or place or date.

Asenath's parents were a brick wall...Online family trees show names, not always the same names, and no real sources. Then a sudden breakthrough!

John: husband, father, jewelry merchant, brother, Gold Rush participant

Through a previous online search, I ascertained that Asenath's brother John Cornwell (1812-1883) had owned a jewelry store in Athens, Ohio. My query: John Cornwell Athens Ohio. One top result was a news item about the long history of John's jewelry business.

Today I tried a slightly different search: for John Cornwell Gold Rush Ohio. I found a surprising and exciting result. John, it turns out, also wrote a diary of the Gold Rush adventure, also beginning with an entry on March 16, 1852. His journal is archived in Ohio (see screen grab at top, from OhioLink), not close to where I live. Brother and sister journals!

The finding aid includes a brief bio of John, contributed by his descendants. A better starting point for parents' names, dates, places, helping to chip away at that brick wall. More research is needed to verify specific dates and places if possible, but I'm on my way now.

Also in my search results: A new book by descendants of John Cornwell, analyzing his journal and providing more family background. Published only a few months ago, Lots of Rush but Little Gold, will give me much more info about the Cornwell family in the 19th century, when I receive my copy. The book by descendants would not have been in the results for searches before the publication date of October, 2022. Timing makes a difference.

My takeaways

First, never give up on a brick wall, just circle back for a fresh look now and again. Second, thoroughly investigate siblings (and other close relatives) because they may prove to be the key to chipping away a brick wall. Third, try different online searches at different times, and examine results on the first several pages, not just the top result. 

"Brick wall" is the week 21 genealogy prompt for #52Ancestors by Amy Johnson Crow.

A is for Asenath: Wife, Mother, Pioneer, Baker, Library Founder

This week's #52Ancestors prompt from Amy Johnson Crow is "begins with a vowel." Great--a chance to write about one of the favorite female ancestors in my husband's family tree: Asenath Cornwell Larimer (1808-1897). At top, Asenath's home in Santa Monica, California, where she spent her last years after quite an adventurous life.

Canada to Ohio to Indiana

Asenath and her siblings were born in Canada, according to multiple Census records over multiple years. How she wound up in Ohio, I don't know. But on August 14, 1832, in Fairfield county, Ohio, she married hubby's great-great-great uncle James Larimer (1806-1847). They had 6 children together (sadly, one died in infancy). Within a year, they moved to Elkhart county, Indiana as pioneer farmers, clearing heavily wooded land to raise crops.

After James was accidentally thrown from a horse and died early in 1847, Asenath was left the family farm in Indiana and still had five children under the age of 10 to raise. Her brothers and in-laws helped out, but it was a struggle.

Gold Rush journey

Within a few years, she made a bold but emotionally difficult decision: Sell the farm, leave the children in care of family and friends, and use the money to accompany her brother John Cornwell, a jewelry merchant, on a journey to the Gold Rush in California. Starting in March, 1852, they took two steamboats en route to joining a wagon train at Lexington, Missouri. 

During the long, arduous trip west, Asenath wrote in a journal from March 1852-March 1853 about the daily thoughts and events of that period. Although her oldest son tried to dissuade her from leaving for California, she wrote in her journal about her strong faith: "...looking forward to the dangers and trails of the way, I feel very gloomy, but in the Lord put I my trust." She missed her children very much, yet she was hopeful of establishing herself in a new place where she could earn a living and the family would be reunited in the future.

By mid-May of 1852, her wagon train joined a "constant crowd of wagons" headed west. She wrote: "Colera [sic] and small pox both among these trains. 30 fresh graves have been counted on that road." Several more of her traveling companions sickened, passed away, and were buried, even as babies were born. 

California had been a state for less than two years--and Asenath writes of passing out of the United States, then entering the States again during the journey. By September of 1852, six months after leaving Indiana, she and her brother John reached Volcano (east of Sacramento). They went 8 miles further to Clinton, where they chose a lot and set up a tent. Her brother prospected for gold while Asenath earned a bit of cash washing, patching, and baking. 

After a while, when her brother did not strike gold, she moved to San Francisco and reinvented herself based on her skill in baking. 

John, for his part, traveled back to his family in Athens, Ohio the long way, around the tip of South America, and reopened his jewelry store. The store prospered for more than a century, finally closing its doors in 2019.

Putting down roots in California

Meanwhile, Asenath opened a bakery in San Francisco in the early 1860s. Soon, one of her married sons moved west and she lived with him and his family, continuing her bakery business. 

Later, she moved south to Santa Monica in Los Angeles County, Calif., where she was a force in establishing the first public library. Her granddaughter Elfie Asenath Mosse (1867-1939) was the first librarian in 1890. The quote above talks about Asenath's early involvement in the Santa Monica community and library.

Asenath never remarried. At the age of nearly 89, she passed away in 1897 and was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in Santa Monica. I'm in the process of putting her bite-sized bio in multiple places, including here, WikiTree, and Find a Grave.

Remembering Asenath

Thanks to her journal and her civic involvement, Asenath has been mentioned in a number of sources that are digitized and searchable online. I hadn't seen her home before, which is in the Santa Monica Image Archives (image is at top of post). But clearly, Asenath is going to be remembered inside and outside the family, because her name and her life are referenced in a variety of places (not just on my blog and family trees).

This first post of April is dedicated to the courage, resilience, and faith of Asenath Cornwell Larimer, hubby's great-great-great aunt. PS: I'm going to continue looking at Asenath's family background. Bet I'll find lots of interesting folks!

Asenath Larimer and Worship on the Wagon Train

Cover of transcribed journal kept by Asenath Cornwell Larimer 

Asenath Cornwell Larimer (1808-1897) was born 211 years ago today.

She was the widow of my husband's 4th great-uncle James Larimer (1806-1847), who sadly died at age 40, thrown from a horse while riding near their farm in Elkhart county, Indiana.

When James died, Asenath was left with five children under the age of 10. Her brothers helped her through this difficult time, but ultimately, Asenath made a bold decision she hoped would secure her children a better life.

Westward Ho

Five years after her husband's untimely death, Asenath sold the farm she had been bequeathed and used the money to join her brother, John Cornwell, in taking two steamboats en route to joining a wagon train at Lexington, Missouri.

Their destination: the Gold Rush country of California.

Asenath wrote in a journal from March 1852-March 1853 about the daily thoughts and events of that time. She notes that her oldest son was against her going west. Despite his opposition, she wrote that "...looking forward to the dangers and trails of the way, I feel very gloomy, but in the Lord put I my trust."

Faith Guides Asenath

Asenath was sustained by her strong Presbyterian faith during the arduous journey west. When possible, she and others on the wagon train would worship together on the Sabbath. In one journal entry, she wrote [sic]:

"...we felt that the Lord was as truly with us here sitting round on the grass, as if we had worshiped in a church, and likely we felt as much love and gratitude even at home." 

Most of the time, however, the wagon train leaders pushed ahead without stopping on the Sabbath, which distressed Asenath, even as she acknowledged the necessity of maintaining a good travel pace.

Asenath recorded not just the details of daily life on the wagon train (births, sickness, deaths, cooking, laundry) but also the natural wonders they viewed, for which she praised the Lord.

Journey's End

After arriving in the mining town of Clinton, California (now a ghost town outside Sacramento), Asenath scraped by on odd jobs such as washing clothes while her brother prospected for gold.

Then she moved to San Francisco, where she launched a bakery and was joined by one of her sons. Later, she moved south to Santa Monica, where she helped found the public library. She died in Santa Monica only a few weeks before her 89th birthday.

Thanks to Amy Johnson Crow for the #52Ancestors prompt of "At Worship."
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Going to the Chapel - His Side of the Family

So many ancestors were married in June, in my husband's family tree and in my tree! I used RootsMagic7's calendar report to see who was married, when, and how long ago, tree by tree. This is a good opportunity to revisit my research, summarize what I know, see what's missing, and take the next step. Thanks to Amy Johnson Crow for this #52 Ancestors prompt.

Here are some of the early June marriages in my husband's tree:

June 3, 1903: Hubby's great-aunt Mary Amanda Wood married August Jacob Carsten 115 years ago in Toledo, Ohio. Sadly, Mary Amanda died at age 32, just months after giving birth to their fourth child. Mary Amanda was named for her mother, Mary Amanda Demarest Wood.

June 10, 1903: At top, the license application for hubby's Grandma Floyda Mabel Steiner and Grandpa Brice Larimer McClure, who married 115 years ago in Wyandot county, Ohio. Only through this record did I discover that Floyda had been married before. She was brave enough to divorce the first husband, who called her vile names and threatened her. Plus she won an alimony settlement!

June 12, 1856: My husband's 2d great-uncle Samuel D. Steiner married Maria L. Forrest 162 years ago in Crawford county, Ohio. While researching the Steiner family in Wyandot county a few years ago, I discovered that Samuel had been arrested for aiding/abetting burglary and not showing up in court. What happened? Don't know yet, but I did find Samuel at home in the 1880 census. 

June 13, 1847: My husband's 3d great-aunt, Elizabeth E. Bentley, married Emanuel Light 171 years ago in Elkhart, Indiana, as shown on the marriage license below. During the 1850s, Elizabeth and Emanuel left their home and traveled west, as her father had done in 1848 early in the Gold Rush. The Light family farmed in California. Despite years of research, the Bentley family's ancestors are still a bit of a mystery, one of my genealogical works in progress.

Family History Month: Looking for the Bentley Family

Lucy Emeline Bentley (1826-1900) was my husband's 2d great-grandma, married to 2d-great-grandpa Brice Larimer (1819-1906).

She was the middle child of 7 children born to Olivia Morgan (1799?-1838) and William Tyler Bentley (1795-1873).

I've been tracing the Bentley family for nearly a decade, with no luck getting further back than patriarch William Tyler Bentley. He and his wife and children were enumerated in Sandy Creek, Oswego county, New York, in the 1830 Census. The family moved to Elkhart county, Indiana, in 1835, according to The History of Elkhart County (p. 1071).

By 1841, however, Olivia had passed away and William Tyler Bentley was raising the children on his own. Later, he left for California as part of the Gold Rush, and he died in Tulare, CA, at the age of 77, not having remarried.

Lucy Bentley, meanwhile, married Brice Larimer in Elkhart in 1847, and they had 4 children together. The last US Census where Lucy appears is in 1900 (see excerpt at top). The enumerator visited the Larimer household in Clinton township, Elkhart, Indiana on the 18th of June.

Just one week later, 73-year-old Lucy took a hard fall and suffered a concussion. She died on the 28th of June in 1900 and is buried in Brown Cemetery, Millersburg, Indiana.

Any Bentley cousins out there?