Finding the 1860 and 1880 census records for the Kelley
family near Lafayette, Indiana, opened up the possibility of tracing an entirely new line related to my husband’s great-great grandmother, Catherine
Kelly Stevens.
The only challenge to pursuing that goal, however, was
adhering to that tacit understanding that spelling was not the forte of
nineteenth century census enumerators. What might show as Kelley in one year
could just as easily be reported as Kelly in another decade.
Couple that inconsistency with the leniency with which
the Irish-American families in those years reported their ages, and a whole
world of uncertainty could open up for the tentative researcher.
As it turns out, though the surname for this family was
spelled differently at times, they all seemed to end up in the same place—or at
least nearby. That became the way provided to circumvent those reporting difficulties:
the records left behind at each person’s passing, confirming the location of
their graves in the same family plot.
Fortunately, the Catholic cemeteries in Tippecanoe County—most
notably Saint Mary’s Cemetery in Lafayette—are
well represented among the volunteer-driven transcriptions available online at
sites such as Find A Grave. Cross checking for both variations on the surname’s
spelling—Kelly and Kelley—I could reconstruct the vital statistics for most of
the names represented in those two census records in which I had first located
the family.
Drawing from the 1860 census, where the four siblings were
living together with their widowed mother, Mary Kelley, I gleaned the tentative
figures for their years of birth. Mathew was born around 1822, Rose following
in 1827, Thomas a decade behind in 1837, and the youngest, Ann, arriving around
1839.
While the cemetery records on Find A Grave didn’t provide a
year of birth, they did include age at death. A little math work showed that
the dates were within a workable range, giving a vote of confidence that we are
looking at the right Kelley family.
Mathew, the oldest of the 1860 listing, was listed at age
seventy when he passed on August 17, 1895. That would put his year of birth as
1825, which wasn’t exactly the 1822 gleaned from the 1860 census, but the
difference was still within reason. With the spelling of his name recorded only
slightly different—as Matthew Kelley—he was buried in the Blessed Virgin
Addition of Saint Mary’s Cemetery in Lafayette, in Bock 101, Lot A.
Buried in the same plot as his sister Rose, she had preceded
him by several years, passing away on March 21, 1888. According to cemetery
records, she was sixty years of age at the time of her death, putting her year
of birth in Ireland
at 1828, only one year off from that showing on the 1860 census.
What became of the other two siblings—Thomas and Ann—took a
little more perseverance to uncover. Ann, apparently, had married some time
after the 1860 census, adopting a surname that suffered some spelling
variations of its own—something we’ll explore in a couple days.
Ann’s remaining brother, as it turned out, was buried—along with
his wife and some of their children—in the same family plot where Matthew and
Rose were located, but Thomas’ surname was spelled in the cemetery records and on the headstone as Kelly, not
Kelley. His death on July 11, 1895—barely one month shy of his brother Matthew’s
passing—coupled with the note “age sixty” to produce a year of birth of 1835,
two years earlier than that 1860 census record had it. We’ll explore what can
be found on Thomas and his children tomorrow.
How tentative it felt to include both Kelly and Kelley
descendants in that one family—and all in the same burial plot. If it weren’t
for the inclusion of the plot location in each entry on Find A Grave, I’d still
be doubting whether I should include all those names in the same family.
Spelling may be an artifact of our own modern times, but while it was certainly
not as standardized a century ago as it is now, at least we can rely on the
stabilizing force of that one constant, final address.
Well, hopefully the address is forever. They moved a number of my ancestor when they "condemned" several cemeteries in the city of Philadelphia.
ReplyDeleteNo kidding, Iggy! "Condemned" is an odd way of looking at moving cemeteries. But it happens.
DeleteOur local genealogical society just had a member who discovered that when an old headstone showed up in a construction site here in town. She helped locate the cemetery where the headstone was supposed to be. Turns out it originally marked the "final" resting place of a man buried in the Reno, Nevada, area--but when the University of Nevada, Reno, decided to expand onto new land which included the cemetery, all the occupants were supposed to be moved to a different cemetery. Who knows why the headstone didn't follow the remains it was memorializing...let alone how the headstone made the journey of 180 miles from Reno to Stockton. The only thing I'm sure of: that headstone didn't travel all that way of its own volition ;)
I see you are putting everyone in their place:)
ReplyDeleteJacqi,
ReplyDeleteI just rediscovered your blog. After migrating from Reader to Feedly, I lost some of my favorites. I am enjoying your story of the Kellys very much. I love your writing style! I have Sullivans in my family and they are as equally challenging.