Mary Beckley Bristow
The Record, 1858: Spent the day agreeably with my Nieces
January 2d ~58.
It was our monthly meeting at Sardis to day. Anselm and I got off so late I was fearful we would be the last, but was almost first. It was not always thus at Sardis; the time has been when each member would have filled their seats although the roads might have been as bad as they are now, but, Ah, those golden days are o'er. It is true that as a general thing the members are tolerably regular in attending their church meetings, and when there appear to love each other and are attentive to preaching, but there is but small signs of life. Sometimes there seems to be a gleam of light that causes the sinking hopes to revive, and we think surely we will soon see the bright dawn of day, but ere we have time to catch the ray 'tis gone, and all things look darker and more hopeless than before. . . .
January 3d.
The church at Sardis yesterday voted that we would not meet today. I knew we had done wrong for I felt guilty. It is true that it looks almost vain to meet, so few attend. "For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them."1
Monday Night January 4th 58.
Have been suffering all day with the headache, considerably aggravated by the perverseness of Sim.2 I had felt confident that as he was living at the same place with his wife and child he would stay there. Not having heard of the least dissatisfaction during the last year, I had no uneasiness on his account as I had for several years past at hiring time, but I find there is no confidence to be placed in him. I most cordially wish some good, tender-hearted abolitionist had him to deal with. They would find their superfluity of sympathy very much misplaced. I very much wish they had all the negroes in Ky. to deal with. They would soon change their politics. Notwithstanding my headache I went over to Volney's to see Nannie Breckinridge;3 found them all gone to pay a visit to Sister Stevens,4 who not long since was greatly injured by a fall from a horse. Found her sitting up and able to walk a little. . . .
January 6th [1858].
Another dark, cloudy day, but no rain. Had visitors again, and before they left found my poor, wornout frame greatly wearied. Was obliged to lie down. My head has not hurt me today, but my back has been so very weak. Thought last night I had found a home for Sim, but fear I shall be disappointed. I am a poor, distrustful creature. . . .
January 7th [1858].
Started early to Union5 this morning to pay off my store bills; found them much larger than they have been for many years previous.6 A very small portion of the fifty dollars I paid today was spent on myself, moving into a much larger and better house than we have been living in for years.7 It was bound to have [needed] a good many things to make the house comfortable and decent. I have also made a good many presents to my nieces who were visiting us from Illinois.8 Well, our Savior has said it is more blessed to give than to receive, but I have no doubt but many persons will think me very foolish. But who would put money in competition with one warm loving heart. . . ? Received a letter this evening from my beloved nephew, John O Bristow of Arkansas.9 He received my little gift of twenty dollars in a time of need, for which I am glad. His health has improved.
Jan. 8th [1858].
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| Andrew Jackson 1832 campaign poster. |
Jan. 9th 1858.
Went over to Volney's this morning with the expectation of going on to my Brother Reuben's12 in company with Nannie Breckinridge and Sarah Jane Dickerson. Found Janie13 very sick; therefore visit had to be deferred. Spent the day with my nieces and their children very pleasantly, and for a rarity did not have to lie down with my side, back or head, and indeed felt better than I have for several weeks, for which I desire to feel thankful, if I know my own heart.
Sunday, January 10th 1858.
This has been a dark, cloudy, rainy day, and I have been very stupid. Read from the 63rd to the 91st Psalms, whilst Lucy14 was combing my hair, but was almost too sleepy to know I was reading. . . .
January 11th 1858.
Nothing worth recording has occurred today. In the morning had a dull headache. Knit a little. In the evening cut a coat15 for Brother Julius.16 Have not read or reflected to any purpose. Kate Ellis is preparing to start to Missourie [sic] with her two little children.17 When these little ones distress my poor weak head with their noise, I feel that I will be relieved when they are gone, but I reflect that in all probability it will be the last time I shall ever see their dear little faces, I think I had rather put up with the annoyance than to part with them.
"Lord keep us safe this night,
Secure from all our fears,
Beneath the pinions of thy love
Till morning light appears"
January 13th 1858.
Went over today [to] Volney's. Kate and I left Mother at General Wallace's.18 Have been a little sick and very stupid the greater part of the day. Spent the day agreeably with my Nieces, but not a thought or action of mine this day is worthy of record. Came home by General Wallace's to bring Mother home. Found Cousin Sarah19 poorly; am fearful she will never be much better. . . .
January 14th [1858].
Have been finishing Brother Julius's coat today. Nannie and Sarah came over this evening to be with Kate and see her off in the morning. Nothing of moment has happened today with us. Anselm has gone fox hunting.20 Oh, that the time would arrive when I should see my Brothers quit the pursuit of vanities and follies, to say the least of them, and again be alive, as I believe I have seen them, to the things of God and eternity. . . .
January 15th [1858].
When we awoke this morning it was raining and has rained with but little interruption all day. Kate could not start. Neither could Nan and Sarah Jane get home until after dinner, and then I expect got wet. Anselm has not returned. I can but feel uneasy about him, feeling he is not in the pathway of duty. . . .
Jan 16th 1858.
Kate and her dear little ones got off this morning.21 When I part with friends of late years I have but small hope of meeting them again in time, that is, where they are going a long distance. I said in my heart when I parted with John, Kate, and the children four years ago when they first moved to Missourie, I shall see you no more. The dearest of the four, John, I shall never see in time. The black winter wind is now howling over the spot where his loved form reposes in the Illinois praraie [sic] by the side of my dear old Father, who departed this life October 10th 1854.22 John died the 17th day of December 54. They were lovely and loving in their lives, and in their deaths they were not long divided.
Jan 18th 1858.
Heard from Reuben's this morning. Kate23 and Napoleon24 have broken out with the measles,25 are very sick. I feel anxious to be with my brother & Sister in this time of trouble, but the situation of our family and roads forbid it. If I hear the children are in danger, I shall go if possible. I have often begged our Lord to turn my beloved brothers from too great a pursuit of earthly pleasures. . . .
Jan 19th 1858.
Brother Julius and I are alone today, a thing of rare occurrence for a year past. Kate and her children from Mo., Nancy Breckinridge /from Illinois/ and her four children26 have been with us a great deal in the past year, and I get a little lonely now without them.
Jan 20th 1858.
Declined going to Reuben's today on account of the roads.27 Are informed they are in many places impassable for females. Br Julius went and bought us the pleasing intelligence that Kate and Napoleon are getting along very well; the others have not yet taken the measles. Mother and I were alone all forenoon. In the evening Susie and Sallie28 came in. I have been busy today transcribing my old writings and copies I had kept of some of my letters written, some of them, years ago.
Jan 21st 1858.
Cousin Sallie Stephens came in early this morning and is still here. Susie was here until evening. Consequently I have had no opportunity of reading writing or reflection and feel but little disposed to keep up my journal as I am very sleepy and tired. Have had several of those unaccountable spells of depression29 today that I have been subject to for several years past, and for some days past have been worse than for a long time. I can scarce describe them and am fearful they are the effect of disease, either of the head, heart or spine. They pay no respect to circumstances, time or place. Night or day, in company or alone, they come and go, and I have no power to retain them or drive them away.
"Be merciful, O God, to me;
Thy mercy is my only plea;
Look with compassion on my woes,
And let not judgment interpose."
Jan 22nd 1858.
. . . Our faithful old buggy horse is sick (fox hunter). Have been thinking how Mother and I are to get to meeting if he should die. I love a good horse and feel deeply when I see them suffer.
Jan 25th 1858.
Got disappointed in getting to Reuben's today; heard that the little children, white and black, have the measles and are very sick; hope to get their [sic] tomorrow if the Lord will. Went over to Volney's to be with my nieces. . . .
February 26th 1858.
Went to Reuben's on the 26th of January; returned yesterday evening. Was so cold and so much fatigued that I retired very early but did not sleep until after midnight, my head hurt me so much, but hope I felt some emotions of gratitude to God, my kind and merciful Heavenly Father, who had supported and given me strength of body to undergo more fatigue and exposure than I have known for many years previous, and because he enabled me to leave My Brother's house that I found greatly resembling an hospital, there were so many sick (sixteen cases of measles).30 With a hopeful heart, all seemed on a far way to recover. Found that my dear old Mother had been suffering in my absence with one of her spells of pain in her side, but did not suffer from want of careful attention. Cousin Sallie Stephens came and waited on her. Oh how grateful I can feel to a friend for their kindness, but how little gratitude I feel in my heart to God for his many mercies blessings and kindness shown to me and mine day after day. One had been born in my absence. Mother and child both doing well.31 I hope I desire to feel thankful. Today attended our church meeting. Most of the members were there, not many others. . . .
[The next entry is four months later.]
June 24th 1858.
Have been busy when health and opportunity would permit transcribing my letters and old pieces written several years ago. Just finished all the paper I had sewed in pasteboard and have several pieces still left and intend copying some of them in my journal. My intention was to keep up a record of every day's occurrence when I commenced writing in this book, but the sickness of my brother's family first put a stop to my writing, and once left off, [it] is hard to commence again. During the whole spring my health was so poor that I very often thought that if my journal was ever filled it would have to be done by some other person. Since my health has been improving, whenever I feel like writing I preferred transcribing, but hope when I have copied a few pieces to keep up a record of the day as it passes.
[Then follow several items transcribed from 1854-1857, such as these, into which Mary seems to have interpolated an editorial comment, added in parentheses.]
Friday January 2nd 1857.
Have come to the conclusion that I will try as far as the Lord will enable me to keep a record of the occurrences of each day (This promise like many others I have made was not kept) that I thereby may be made more watchful, guard more carefully my words and my thoughts and actions. . . .
Oct 17th 1858.
Four months have elapsed since I wrote a word in my 'Record.' What a forgetful procrastinator I am. "I vow and strait my vows forget and then those very [vows] repeat."
We this day found we would have to move from Pleasant Retreat next March and hunt up a new home and know not yet where we shall find it. As I was going to Volney's today, on a high position I looked at all the comfortable habitations in view, and for a moment a feeling of hardness toward my kind heavenly Father was in my heart that we should be homeless, particularly my dear old, old Mother who has passed through so many painful scenes already and is now eighty-two years old. These words passed through my mind, "He that dealeth with a slack hand shall become poor."32 In a moment these words followed, "The liberal soul shall be fed,"33 and I am satisfied that
What may be my future lot
Well I know concerns me not.
This should set my heart at rest;
What Thy will appoints is best.
Saturday Evening, Oct 30th 1858.
Have been prevented by fatigue and a sore aching in my right and left sides from keeping up my journal the past week. Don't intend to make any more promises about it; find I cannot keep them. . . .
Sunday, Nov 14th 1858.
Have felt unusually poorly yesterday and today with a soreness and aching in the back of my head and neck. The Dr. calls it rheumatism, but I hope not, would prefer my old disease, scrofula, I am better aquatinted with that. Intended answering my Dear Cousin Caroline Ashburn's long good letter received by last Thursday's mail, but my head and thoughts were too wandering. Brought down my writing stand from my favorite window upstairs where I have set many hours for two summers past, conversing with absent friends and communing with God and my own heart. I have no doubt bid that seat a final adieu as we shall leave this place before the weather gets warm enough to do without fire. Also brought from there, summer residence, a portion of my bound Signs, intending to look them over, but Br Lassing came in whilst we were at dinner, and the Signs were laid aside. I am sorry to say it, but I cannot enjoy the company of my Pastor as I once did. I can't make free with him as I used to; he seems so easy to take offense — or at least it seems to me — so that I am rather afraid to broach almost any subject for fear of collision. He or I or both are wrong.
Nov 15th 1858.
When I arose from my bed this morning and opened the door, what a gloriously beautiful sight saluted my vision. All nature had changed its color; the whole earth was clothed in a garment whiter than any fuller34 on earth could white them. Every tree and shrub was weighted down with its snowy mantle. The evergreens were exceedingly beautiful, showing a rich green through their white covering. A white vine whose long branches were almost touching the ground resembled in shape the weeping willow, sad emblem of death and the tomb. Nor must I forget to mention the Indian Arrow with its beautiful scarlet berries peeping through its snowy covering.35 This is a scene that from my earliest recollections afforded me great pleasure; often have I stood in almost speechless admiration, gazing in every direction at the handiwork of the Almighty. And the sun or wind would come too all soon to scatter the snowy fabric. . . .
November Thursday 18th 1858.
This day fifty years ago I drew my first breath in this world. I was a feeble helpless babe, totally incapable of taking the least care of myself, of supplying one want, or of obtaining one particle of sustenance. I was a sickly plant, and I have no doubt I was very tenderly nurtured by my devoted Mother and her numerous friends. My first recollections of myself are of my own sickly repinings and the kind attentions of all around. I looked for those attentions as for something that was mine by right. No spark of gratitude that I am aware of ever swelled my heart for the anxious days and sleepless nights my Parents spent in watching my labored breathing and in striving to ameliorate my painful condition. When my Sisters who were some years older than myself, my brothers some older some younger, all gave in to my turbulent temper, I really thought it just and right they should do so, as they were stronger than I. I did not think I was doing any injustice to fret and fume at the servants when they perhaps were doing their best, me who would not be pleased for any length of time with anything that could be done for me.
Thus I got along, expecting all returning but little, until I was eleven years old. At that time my two eldest brothers36 started to the then unsettled or newly settled State of Missouri on an exploring expedition.37 If they were pleased, my Father and all his family would move there. I found the morning they started a new emotion in my heart, real deep sorrow in my heart to part with them. I ran away to the back of the orchard to take a last look, and although 38 years have elapsed I can in imagination see my beloved brother Jack as he passed from my sight on his bay poney, far dearer to me this day than he had ever been in all those previous years. We never met again; his body still sleeps in that western land far from home and kindred.38 Yet I hope to meet him in "that land whose blest promise alone is fadeless and sure as eternity's throne." Now the cure of my selfish disposition commenced. Oh, how near and dear did his two little orphans, Jack and Mary Jane,39 become to my heart after his death.
When [I was] in my seventeenth year, my brother James died.40 In one year more sister Jane,41 then my brother-in-law Thomas R. Benning,42 whom I loved as a brother in the flesh, next his widow, Sister Sally,43 last my Brother Benjamin.44 In the short space of six years those five dear ones were taken from us. And I became fearful that all would die and I be left alone, never thinking I might die myself. As one would die those remaining became nearer and dearer, until instead of being selfish I became almost an idolator.
I am writing this for the benefit of my dear Nieces whom I sometimes hear speaking harshly to each other. I wish them to profit from my painful experience. Oh how my heart has ached after the death of those loved ones at the recollections of those harsh speeches, short answers, contradictions, etc that I had given them. They could never — no, never — be recalled; no reparation could then be made. The human heart can never be subjected to nothing more painful than self condemnation when we know the wrong can never be repaired. Now when I see a family of brothers and sisters all getting along affectionately together, it is to me a most lovely sight. It does my heart good to promote their pleasures. But when I see the reverse I find myself say inwardly, oh, beware! Those angry words may ere long become like scorpion stings in your heart.
Pleasant Retreat, December 25th 1858
Through the good providence of my kind heavenly Father I have been spared and preserved to see my fiftieth Christmas since I was born into this natural world and the twentififth since I trust I was born again "not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God."45 . . .
Had a good many of our friends to take their Christmas dinner with us today, amongst the rest my Mother's two old brothers, both however much younger than herself.46 This is her eighty-second Christmas, and it is probable that this is the last Christmas dinner they will take with her, as we will leave this neighborhood the first of March, and know not where we will be if living another year, but feel hopeful that God who has bountifully supplied our needs heretofore will not forsake us now but condescend in much mercy to direct our steps for his glory and our good.
"Our God, our help in ages past
Our hope in days to come
Our shelter from the stormy blast
And our eternal home."
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Notes:
[Click on footnote number to return to text.]
1 Matthew 18:20.
2 Simeon Bristow (1826?-1902), one of Mary's slaves. After he was freed in December 1865, he worked at various jobs, such as candy-making, in Covington for many years, where he was well known to Reuben's grandchildren. Although his parents were Robert and Mary Witchcroft, he took the name Bristow. (See below, 2 Oct 1864.) He is buried in Covington's Linden Grove Cemetery.
3 Nancy Ellis (1817?-), Sara Jane's sister, who married in Bourbon County, 1 Nov 1832, Oliver Hazard Perry Breckinridge (1813-1852), who was known to the family as Perry. Mary's father was visiting her family in Illinois when he died. (See above, letters in 1855.)
4 Not identified. Perhaps Mary Ann Stephens (1810?- __ ), the wife of the preacher Edmund Stpehens. In 1860 the family was enumerated in Burlington, the county seat. (See above, 25 Mar 1855.)
5 Now (1995) a crossroads snuggled in a fold along the waters of Fowler Creek in eastern Boone County, on the fringes of the Covington-Cincinnati urbanization. In the mid-19th century Union was a market town for the area.
6 Long before plastic credit cards and discount warehouses came on the scene, merchants offered credit to persons established in the community, such as the Bristows, who would settle up periodically. Mary implies that this was a long-standing New Years routine. This practice was due in part to the shortage of cash which had troubled American commerce since the founding of the Republic.
7 Unless Mary gave the same name, Pleasant Retreat, to more than one of her residences, some sort of move seems to have been under consideration as early as January. (See below, 17 Oct 1858.)
8 The Breckinridge girls, daughters of Nannie Ellis Breckinridge: Mary Jane, Susan, and Sarah.
9 John Orrick Bristow (1818-1876) was the orphan son of Mary's eldest brother, John Sandidge Bristow (1795-1820). Young John and his family returned to Kentucky in 1860. (See below, 18 Nov 1858; 29 Nov 1860.)
10 While Jackson was a hero, especially to Westerners who bestowed his name on numerous cities and counties, Old Hickory was far less popular among what came to be called "the Eastern Establishment."
11 Not many share Mary's favorable opinion of Buchanan, who is regarded as one of the less successful occupants of the White House. Statira's father, Leonard Stephens, described meeting Buchanan on a visit to Washington City the previous year. "We found him to be a very plain, courteous gentleman, who made me feel entirely free & easy in his presence. He is a large, portly man of about sixty-four or five years of age. His hair is quite white & he carries his head slightly inclined to the left side, which we understood to be occasioned by a nervous affectation." Leonard Stephens Diary, 22 Jun 1857.
12 He was living just over the Kenton County line, on Bank Lick Creek, on land from his father-in-law, General Leonard Stephens. The road from Independence to Richwood still bears the Bristow name.
13 Jane S. Dickerson (1846-1939), Volney and Sarah's eldest daughter.
14 Another slave, not otherwise identified.
15 Although Elias Howe and I. M. Singer had patented sewing machines a few years before, their use had not spread to the home yet. Her brother's coat and all the other clothes Mary made for the family (white and black) were completely hand sewn.
16 Julius Clarkson Bristow (1799-1865), Mary's eldest brother, was a widower who had married Mary Pugh (1799- ) in Bourbon County, 16 Jul 1826. His wife, known as Polly, was the daughter of Joseph Pugh, Sr. And Elizabeth Hunt. She died not long after, possibly in the cholera epidemics of the thirties. They had no children who survived. Julius never remarried, returning to live with his younger siblings and mother.
17 Catherine E. Bristow (1832?-), a daughter of Mary's brother Benjamin Franklin Bristow (1807?-1834) and Sarah Ann Trundle (1807-1889). Kate had married 16 Jan 1849 in Boone County her first cousin, John B. Ellis, son of Mary's eldest sister, Jane Shelton Bristow (1797?-1828) and Robert Ellis (1790-1840). At this writing Kate had been a widow for about two years. Her children were Eugenia Ellis (born about 1850) and Robert Ellis (1853-), who was named for his grandfather and uncle. By 1880 Robert was a young widower. (See introduction and Appendix I.)
18 John Wallace (1800?-) and his wife Artemesia Stephens (1810?-) and their children were the only family of that name living in Boone County in 1860. His rank, like that of Leonard Stephens, was probably in the militia. She was a cousin of Statira.
19 Not identified.
20 Mary is continually disappointed in her youngest brother, Anselm, who cannot share her serious concern over matters of the spirit.
21 They probably traveled by train from Cincinnati to St. Louis on the Ohio & Mississippi Railroad, a broad-gauge line which had opened the summer before. From St. Louis they may have been able to travel part of the way to Audrain on the North Missouri Railroad, then under construction. Seymour Dunbar, A History of Travel in America (NY: Tudor, new and rev. ed., 1937), 1087-1095; Perry McCandless, A History of Missouri, Volume II, 1829 to 1860 (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1972), 147.
22 Mary slips up here. Her father died in 1855, as shown by her letters (above).
23 Catherine Sanford Bristow (See above, 26 Mar 1855.)
24 Napoleon Stephens Bristow (1849-1926) was named for Statira's eldest brother. As far as I have been able to tell, neither had a nickname, though as an adult the nephew is usually recorded as "N. S. Bristow."
25 A highly contagious viral disease, rubeola, now usually confined to childhood, which can be spread by contact or through air-borne droplets. After an incubation period of about ten days, a victim has symptoms much like a cold, which progress to a rash, then a high fever. Complications can include blindness and coma. Secondary bacterial infection can result in pneumonia and death. (See below, 26 Feb 1858.)
26 With the Breckenridge girls (Mary Jane, Susan and Sarah) in Kentucky, there was a younger brother, John. Nannie's elder son, James, who was a newlywed, remained in Illinois. On New Year's Eve he had married Mary A. Pitney.
27 Rural roads were very primitive. Most were dirt lanes, with no paving or surfacing and few bridges.
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| Tollgate on a Kentucky turnpike |
28 Susan Breckinridge had remained in Kentucky after her mother returned to Illinois. She married the following year Charles G. C. Canby, brother of the Union General Edward R. S. Canby. Sallie may have been either her sister or her aunt (Volney's wife), or even the mysterious Sarah Stephens.
29 (See above, A Relation of My Experience.)
30 As Reuben and Statira had only seven children at the time, most of the cases must have been among the younger slaves.
31 The 1860 census listed a two-year-old boy.
32 Source not identified.
33 See Proverbs 11:25. "The liberal soul shall be made fat."
34 One who prepares raw woolen cloth by cleaning, shrinking and thickening. An occupation rendered obsolete by the industrial revolution.
35 Not identified.
36 Dr John Sandidge (Jack) Bristow and Julius Clarkson Bristow.
37 The 1820 census found a Missouri population of 67 thousand, about one person per square mile. Statehood came in the following year.
38 His death was reported in a Missouri newspaper:
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DIED On Tuesday last, at the house of Col. Thomas Hickman, Warrington, near Franklin, Doctor John S. Bristow, of Middletown, Bourbon county, Kentucky. The deceased arrived here a short time since, from Kentucky, with a drove of cattle, &c. which he had just disposed of, and was on his return home, when his course was suddenly arrested by a fever, and [n]otwithstanding every medical advice and assistance rendered him he survived but a few days. The truth is exemplified in him, that "in the midst of life we are in death," and that neither youth nor age is exempt from the shafts of the fell destroyer. Ever guided by the principles of honor, morality, & integrity, with a mind cultivated and refined, and a disposition, affable and engaging, he was endeared to all who became acquainted with him. In the spring of his life and usefulness, he is suddenly hurried to that "bourne from whence no traveller returns." He has left an amiable wife, and a respectable circle of relatives and friends to mourn his untimely end.
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39 They were raised by their mother, Louisa Metcalfe, and stepfather, Charles B. Colcord. John later lived in Alabama and Arkansas, before returning to Kentucky. (See below, 29 Nov 1860.) According to family Bible records, Mary Jane (1820-1839) married James Wheeler and died before her twentieth birthday, followed by her infant son, Charles M. Wheeler.
40 James Bristow (1813?-24 Jul 1828). (See above, A Relation of My Experience. )
41 Jane Shelton Bristow (1797?-1828); who married Robert Ellis in Bourbon County, 22 Dec 1815. She was the mother of Nannie Breckinridge and of John B. Ellis, who married his cousin Catherine Bristow, and of Sarah Jane, Volney Dickerson's wife. (See above, 9 Jan 1858.)
42 Thomas Roberts Benning was an orphan whose promising career in journalism was cut short when he was shot in his office at the Kentucky Gazette in Lexington, 9 Mar 1829 by Charles Wickliffe, son of the richest man in Kentucky, who had taken offense at a story in the paper. The young editor died the next day. Wickliffe escaped legal penalties through his father's powerful influence. However, in poetic justice, he died almost exactly six months later, shot in a duel he had instigated with the new editor of the Gazette, George James Trotter, Jr. That story can be found in J. Winston Coleman, Jr., Famous Kentucky Duels.
Read the accounts of the murder from the Kentucky Gazette.
43 Sarah Clopton Bristow (1805-1829). She had probably met her husband when he was editor of the Paris Register, in Bourbon County. (See Perrin, History of Bourbon, 111.)
44 Benjamin Franklin Bristow (1807?-1834). A victim, with two of his daughters, of the cholera epidemic. (See below, 12 Mar 1862.)
45 John 1:13.
46 Julius Willis Clarkson (1781?-1859) and Anselm E. Clarkson (1783?-1863). (See below, 29 Mar 1859 and 15 Jun 1863.)
