From Maniów to Plymouth to Chicopee: The Family of Jan Klaus

Note: This article originally appeared in the fall 2019 issue of Biuletyn Korzenie, the newsletter of the Polish Genealogical Society of Massachusetts. It is being reprinted here with permission.

Jan Klaus was no stranger to me. I’d never met him, of course, but I’d known about this brother of my great-great-grandfather, Andrzej Klaus, since March 2013, when I first discovered his baptismal record in an index at FamilySearch. What I didn’t know was what happened to him. Until recently, I never knew for certain that he immigrated to the U.S., although I suspected it. The name “John Klaus” (or Claus, or Clouse) is sufficiently common that it’s not the kind of name one spends a lot of time chasing when it’s only a collateral line. And I certainly never knew that his descendants settled in Chicopee after his death—that is, until one day, when a DNA match brought all these pieces of the puzzle together.

The Klaus-Liguz Family of Maniów and Wola Mielecka, Galicia

Jan Klaus was born on 9 October 1860 in the village of Maniów, in the Dąbrowa powiat (district or county) of the Galicia province of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.[1] His baptismal record is shown in Figure 1.

Figure 1: Baptismal record from the church of St. Mary Magdalene in Szczucin for Jan Klaus, born 9 October 1860. Transcription of each column is as follows: [Record number] 20, [Date of birth] 9 October 1860, [Date of baptism] 10 October 1860, [House number] 28, [child’s name] Joannes, [religion] Catholic (indicated by tally mark in the appropriate column), [sex] male (indicated by tally mark in the appropriate column), [status] legitimi, [Father] Jacobus Klaus natus Laurentio et Anna Żel, famulus, [Mother] Francisca nata Laurentio Liguz et Margaretha Warzecha, [Godparents] Adalbertus Liguz et Catharina Mamuska, hor. [hortulanus].”

jan-klaus-baptismal-record-marked

The record is in Latin, and states that Joannes Klaus, or Jan Klaus, as he would have been known among the ethnic Poles in that village, was the son of Jacobus (Jakub) Klaus, who was himself the son of Laurentius (Wawrzyniec) Klaus and Anna (née Żel) Klaus. Although it appears to be written as Żel in this document—note that the vowel looks more like the “e” in “Laurentio,” rather than the “a” in “Jacobus”—Anna’s name is more often recorded as Żala. Jan’s mother was noted to be Francisca (Franciszka), daughter of Laurentius (Wawrzyniec) Liguz and Margaretha (Małgorzata) née Warzecha. The godparents were Adalbertus (Wojciech) Liguz and Catharina (Katarzyna) Mamuska. Jan’s father, Jakub, was a servant (famulus) at the time of his birth, and his godfather was a gardener (hortulanus). Jan was baptized at the church of St. Mary Magdalene in Szczucin, the parish to which the village of Maniów belonged at the time of Jan’s birth (Figure 2).

Figure 2: St. Mary Magdalene parish in Szczucin. Photo taken by the author in July 2015.St. Mary Magdalene Church in Szczucin

Jan was Jakub and Franciszka’s oldest child. Their marriage record tells us that Jakub was a 30-year-old servant when he married 24-year-old Franciszka on 16 September 1860 in that same parish church of St. Mary Magdalene.[2] At least six more sons were born to Jakub and Franciszka following Jan’s birth: Józef in 1863, Andrzej in 1865, Michał in 1867, twins Piotr and Paweł in 1870, and then Tomasz in 1872, before finally a daughter, Helena, was born in 1875.[3] Several of these children did not survive to adulthood. Unambiguous evidence exists for the deaths of Paweł, Piotr and Helena in childhood.[4] An additional death record from 1874 exists for Józef Klaus, son of Jakub and Franciszka Liguz, but the evidence is problematic, since the record states that he was 7 years old at the time of death, suggesting a birth year circa 1867, rather than 1863.[5] Despite this discrepancy, it seems likely that this is nonetheless the death record for the same Józef Klaus who was born in 1863, which brings the number of Klaus children who died in infancy or childhood to four out of the eight documented births. Figure 3 summarizes these data in chart form.

Figure 3: Children of Jakub Klaus and Franciszka Liguz.Jakub Klaus descendants with border

The Emigrant Klauses

Of the remaining children of Jakub and Franciszka Klaus, I knew that my great-great-grandfather, Andrzej Klaus, immigrated to Buffalo, New York. I subsequently discovered that his brother Tomasz did, as well, since there is a record of the marriage of Tomasz Klaus of “Mielecka Wola, Gal.” to Wiktoria Rak in 1900 at St. Stanislaus Church.[6] The record states that Tomasz was the son of Jakub Klaus and Franciszka Słowik, not Liguz, and research is ongoing to determine if Słowik was perhaps the surname of Franciszka’s second husband, or was merely an error. The fate of Michał Klaus remains unknown, as no death or marriage record for him has yet been discovered in Polish or U.S. records. Jan Klaus similarly seemed to disappear from Polish records, and I suspected that he emigrated when I discovered a Jan Klaus on a Hamburg emigration manifest that seemed to be a good match (Figure 4).[7]

Figure 4: Extracted image from Hamburg passenger manifest showing Jan Klaus.Jan Klaus Hamburg emigration manifest marked

The manifest was from the S.S. Marsala, which departed from Hamburg on 14 September 1888. The passenger, Jan Klaus, was described as a 28-year-old Arbeiter (laborer) from the town of Mielec in the Austrian Empire. His age suggests a date of birth circa 1860, which would be consistent with the date of birth for my great-great-granduncle, and Mielec was the town closest to the small village of Maniów where “my” Jan was born. Figure 5 shows the locations of Szczucin, Maniów, Wola Mielecka, and Mielec in relation to one another.

Figure 5: Places in Poland associated with the Liguz-Klaus family. Jakub was born in Wola Mielecka, Franciszka in Maniów, and some of their children were born in each of these two villages.Map for Jan Klaus blog post

When one finds a Hamburg emigration manifest, it’s often possible to locate the corresponding arrival manifest, and it’s a good idea to seek these out, as they sometimes contain additional information beyond what’s found on the emigration manifest. Jan’s arrival manifest was no exception (Figure 6).

Figure 6: Extracted image from New York arrival manifest showing Jan Klaus.[8]Jan Klaus New York arrival manifest marked

As expected, much of the information on this manifest recapitulated the information found on the manifest recorded at the port of departure. Jan Klaus, age 28 years, was noted to be a male workman from Mielec, Austria. Some of the additional information provided on this manifest was not especially significant, such as the fact that he was marked as an alien (as expected), that he had no baggage, and that he was assigned to the main compartment aboard the ship. More significantly, it was noted that his intended destination was New York—a fact which might be useful in tracing him further in U.S. records. However, this particular manifest included the column, “Date and Cause of Death,” and the line for Jan Klaus contains the notation “11–6.” Given that the Marsala departed Hamburg on 14 September and arrived on 1 October, the significance of these particular numbers is unclear, but certainly the presence of some notation in this column suggested that the passenger Jan Klaus died during the voyage. In the light of this information, and in absence of any good matches for this Jan Klaus in records from Buffalo, where his brothers Andrzej and Tomasz settled, I accepted the tentative conclusion that Jan may not have survived, and I moved on to other research questions.

DNA Points the Way

Fast forward to December 2018. While reviewing some of my mother’s DNA matches, I came across a match to “N.F.M.” whose family tree indicated that her great-grandfather was John Klaus, born circa 1861. N.F.M was a DNA match to me as well, although we matched only as distant cousins, sharing a modest 19 centimorgans (cM) across 2 segments. I was immediately intrigued, and my excitement grew when I read that her John Klaus died in Plymouth, Pennsylvania in 1920. This fact was significant to me because my great-great-grandfather Andrzej Klaus named Plymouth, Pennsylvania as his destination when he immigrated in 1889 (Figure 7).[9]

Figure 7: Image extracted from passenger manifest of the British Queen, showing passenger Andrzey [sic] Klaus with destination as Plymouth, Pennsylvania.Andrzej Klaus manifest marked 1889

I was never able to document Andrzej in Plymouth, and since he married Marianna Łącka in Buffalo on 21 January 1891, it’s clear that he didn’t stay in Plymouth for long.[10] Neither could I find a corresponding arrival manifest for the British Queen, which should have arrived in an American port in mid-April 1889 based on its departure from Hamburg on 26 March. The arrival manifest might have stated the name of the friend or relative with whom Andrzej was staying, and lacking this information, I had no basis for further speculation about the identity or surname of this friend or relative. However, in light of this new evidence that I was genetically connected to a descendant of John Klaus from Plymouth, Pennsylvania, a missing piece to the puzzle seemed to fall into place.

An important thing to remember about autosomal DNA testing is that it doesn’t prove anything on its own. Even when there is a paper trail documenting both individuals’ descent from a common ancestor, it could still be the case that the individuals are related through some as yet undiscovered relationship which could be the source of the shared DNA segment. Nevertheless, DNA evidence can be very helpful in cases such as this, when there is a common surname involved, because it can help us identify a target individual or family for further documentary research. Since the match between my mother and N.F.M. was found on Ancestry DNA, it’s not possible to know anything about the chromosome number or specific position of the matching DNA segments. However, shared matches between my mother and N.F.M. can be examined, and the amount of shared DNA (in cM) can be considered as well.

Examination of Shared Centimorgans

If we begin with the assumption that N.F.M.’s tree is correct—a reasonable assumption in this case—then she is the great-granddaughter of John (Jan in Polish) Klaus and his wife, Mary or Marya Frankowska. Since my mother is the great-granddaughter of John Klaus’s brother Andrzej (Andrew in English), Mom and N.F.M. should be third cousins, and should share an amount of DNA that falls within the normal range for that relationship. According to data gathered by Blaine Bettinger’s “Shared cM Project,” third cousins can be expected to share anywhere from no DNA, up to 274 cM, with an average of 74 cM shared DNA.[11] Since it’s possible that third cousins will not share any DNA (thanks to the random nature of DNA inheritance through recombination), the fact that Mom and N.F.M. share only 25 cM of DNA over 3 segments is not a concern, despite the fact that this amount is below the statistical average expected for this relationship. Moreover, since mom’s line of descent from Andrew was through (1) her father, (2) his mother, and (3) his mother’s father (Figure 8), we would expect that the list of shared matches between Mom and N.F.M. would include additional paternal cousins of Mom’s who were known to be documented descendants of Jakub Klaus and Franciszka Liguz.

Figure 8: Relationship chart for Mom and N.F.M. Since their great-grandfathers (Andrzej and Jan) were siblings, their grandmothers (Genevieve and Mary) were first cousins, and their late fathers (John Frank and John Henry) were second cousins. Some data have been redacted to protect the privacy of the living.Relationship chart for Mom and Nancy Foster Mulroy

Evaluation of Shared Matches

In fact, that’s exactly what we find. For example, Mom has a paternal first cousin, M.D., whose mother was John Frank Zielinski’s sister. This means that M.D. would also be a documented third cousin of N.F.M, although they may or may not share any DNA. As it happens, Ancestry reports M.D. as a shared match between Mom and N.F.M., as predicted. Although it’s not possible to know how many centimorgans of DNA are shared between M.D. and N.F.M. or where those matching segments are located, we know that M.D. and N.F.M must match at the level of 4th cousin or closer, based on Ancestry’s cut-offs for reporting shared matches.

Although M.D. is the only one of Mom’s known cousins who also matches N.F.M., additional DNA evidence can be found in Mom’s match list on Ancestry. Further examination of Mom’s DNA matches revealed a match to R.D.S, who is another great-granddaughter of John Klaus and Mary Frankowska, just like N.F.M. While N.F.M. was descended from John and Mary through their grandson, John Henry (see Figure 8), R.D.S. is descended from them through John Henry’s sister, Mary Catherine. Examination of the shared matches between R.D.S. and Mom produces two of Mom’s documented second cousins, R.S.L. and D.M.R., both of whom are descended from Genevieve Klaus’s sister, Anna Klaus Gworek.

Back to the Paper Trail

At this point the DNA evidence strongly supports our hypothesis that John Klaus of Plymouth, Pennsylvania, husband of Mary Frankowska, is, in fact, the same as Jan Klaus, brother of Andrzej and son of Jakub Klaus and Franciszka Liguz. Although neither N.F.M. nor R.D.S. had done any research in Polish records, R.D.S.’s tree provided further documentation to add to the growing body of evidence: John Klaus’s death certificate stated his parents’ names as Jakub Klaus and “Frency Bigus” (Figure 9).[12]

Figure 9: Death certificate of John Klaus of Plymouth, Luzerne, Pennsylvania, showing parents’ names.John Klaus death certificate marked

The informant on the certificate was John’s wife, Mary, and it’s easy to see how “Franciszka Liguz” might have been transformed into “Frency Bigus” in a moment of grief, given that she’d probably never met her mother-in-law.

Coming back full circle now to that passenger manifest for Jan Klaus from the S.S. Marsala in 1888, it appears that it was the correct manifest after all. John reported in the 1910 census that he arrived in the U.S. in 1889, which is reasonably consistent with that October 1888 arrival.[13] Moreover, the record of his marriage to Mary “Fratzkoska” [sic] on 21 January 1890 confirms that he was in the U.S. by that date.[14] It may be that New York was his intended destination upon arrival, as recorded on the manifest, and he decided to settle in Plymouth at a later date. Perhaps the numbers written in the “Date and Cause of Death” column had some other obscure significance, since it’s clear that Jan Klaus did not die on the voyage to America. However, the  general agreement between the date of arrival, the passenger’s name, his date of birth, and his origin in Mielec all support the conclusion that this is probably Jan’s passenger manifest, in spite of the discrepancies.

Epilogue: Mary Frankowska’s Story

Following their marriage in 1890, John and Mary went on to have ten children, all born in Pennsylvania, according to the 1910 census. However, only 6 of these children—Thomas, Frances, Mary, Katherine, John Jr., and Leon—were still living in 1910, so there are four more children whose births and deaths might be documented through baptismal records from the church they attended in Plymouth. The oldest son, Thomas Klaus, left Plymouth and was living in Southwick, Hampden, Massachusetts as early as 1914 when he married his wife, Florence Phillips.[15] Frances, Mary, and Katherine Klaus all eventually followed suit and moved to Western Massachusetts, along with their brother Leon. (John Klaus, Jr. settled in Jersey City, New Jersey.) After John Klaus (Sr.) died in Plymouth, Pennsylvania in 1920, his widow Mary (née Frankowska) followed her children to western Massachusetts, where she died in Chicopee in 1923.[16]

When I started researching Jan Klaus’s family for myself, I became curious about Mary Frankowska’s origins. As mentioned, neither of the DNA matches, N.F.M. and R.D.S, had done any research in Polish records, and Mary’s parents’ names were not known. The 1910 census reported that she was born in Austria, and I wondered if perhaps she was from the same part of Galicia as her husband. I decided to check the FamilySearch database, “Poland, Tarnów, Roman Catholic Diocese Church Books, 1612-1900” for her baptism. The name of this database is a bit misleading since it indexes only baptismal records, rather than containing any marriage or death records whose inclusion might be implied by the use of the term “Church Books.”[17] Nevertheless, it can be a good starting point for researching immigrants who are suspected to have originated in the Tarnów region. Interestingly, the search produced a baptismal record for Marianna Josepha Frankowski, daughter of Josephus Frankowski and Anna Dachowski, born 5 August 1863 in—drumroll, please!—“Maniów, Maniów, Kraków, Poland.”[18] This is the same Maniów where Jan Klaus was born, and the year of birth, 1863, was consistent with the year of birth suggested by Mary Klaus’s age as reported on the 1910 census and her marriage record. If this was, in fact, her birth record, then Mary Klaus and her husband John were actually from the same village in Poland—not an uncommon situation, but a delicious bit of research serendipity nonetheless.

Mary’s death certificate was the linchpin needed to confirm this hypothesis. I requested a copy from the city clerk in Chicopee, and bingo! The parents of Mary Klaus were Joseph Frankowski and Anna Dachowska, a perfect match to the birth record in the FamilySearch index (Figure 10). According to the certificate, Mary died on 30 December 1923 at the age of 60, suggesting a birth year of 1863. Consistent with expectations, the certificate states that she was the widow of John Klaus, was living at 220 School Street, and had been a resident of Chicopee for one year prior to her death. The informant was her daughter Catherine Klaus who was living with her, and Mary was buried in Calvary Cemetery in Chicopee on 2 January 1924.

Figure 10: Death certificate of Mary (née Frankowska) Klaus of Chicopee, Hampden, Massachusetts, widow of John Klaus.Marya Klaus death 1923 cropped marked

More research can still be done in both Polish and U.S. records to flesh out the history of John and Mary (née Frankowska) Klaus and their descendants, but the outline of the story has been firmly established. The paper trail tells the story of Jan’s emigration aboard the S.S. Marsala in 1888, his residence in Plymouth, and his marriage to Marianna Frankowska, a young woman from his home village, in 1890. We know of their 10 children, and we can trace the lineages of some of those children into the present day. Their descendants carry a legacy in the form of bits of DNA which allow us distant cousins to identify each other as fellow descendants of Jakub Klaus and Franciszka Liguz. With every connection we make, our understanding of the family’s history deepens and grows. Who knew that this Buffalo girl had family connections to Chicopee? I do now.

Sources:

[1] Roman Catholic Church, Sanktuarium Matki Bożej Fatimskiej – Różańcowej (Borki, Szczucin, Dąbrowa, Małopolska, Poland), “Ksiąg Metrykalnych,” 1860, births, #20, record for Joannes Klaus, born 9 October 1860.

[2] Roman Catholic Church, St. Mary Magdalene parish (Szczucin, Dąbrowa, Małopolskie, Poland), “Księgi metrykalne, 1786-1988,” Akta małżeństw 1786-1988, Maniów, 1860, 16 September 1860, marriage record for Jacobus Klaus and Francisca Liguz, FHL Film no. 1958428, Items 7-8.

[3] Roman Catholic Church, Sanktuarium Matki Bożej Fatimskiej – Różańcowej (Borki, Szczucin, Dąbrowa, Małopolska, Poland), “Ksiąg Metrykalnych”, 1863, baptismal record for Josephus Klaus, born 26 February 1863; and

Roman Catholic Church, Sanktuarium Matki Bożej Fatimskiej – Różańcowej (Borki, Szczucin, Dąbrowa, Małopolska, Poland), “Ksiąg Metrykalnych”, 1865, births, #37, record for Andreas Klaus, born 25 November 1865; and

Roman Catholic Church, Sanktuarium Matki Bożej Fatimskiej – Różańcowej (Borki, Szczucin, Dąbrowa, Małopolska, Poland), “Ksiąg Metrykalnych”, 1867, #20, baptismal record for Michael Klaus, born 1 September 1867; and

Roman Catholic Church, Sanktuarium Matki Bożej Fatimskiej – Różańcowej (Borki, Szczucin, Dąbrowa, Małopolska, Poland), “Ksiąg Metrykalnych”, 1870, #18, baptismal record for Paulus and Petrus Klaus, born 28 May 1870; and

“Podkarpackie,” database, Polskie Towarzystwo Genealogiczne, Geneteka, (http://geneteka.genealodzy.pl), Search result for Klaus births in Podkarpackie, 1872, #23, Tomasz Klaus, son of Jakub Klaus and Franciszka Nygus (sic), parish Ksiaznice-Wola Mielecka, born in Wola Mielecka on 3 September 1872, source, parish archives, indexed by Krzysztof Gruszka, accessed 3 August 2017; and

“Podkarpackie”, database, Polskie Towarzystwo Genealogiczne, Geneteka, (http://geneteka.genealodzy.pl), Search result for Klaus births in Podkarpackie, 1875, #23, Helena Klaus, son of Jakub Klaus and Franciszka Nygus (sic), parish Ksiaznice-Wola Mielecka, born in Wola Mielecka on 25 September 1875, source, parish archives, indexed by Krzysztof Gruszka, accessed 3 August 2017.

[4] “Podkarpackie”, database, Polskie Towarzystwo Genealogiczne, Geneteka, (http://geneteka.genealodzy.pl), Search result for Klaus deaths in Podkarpackie, 1879, #7, Pawel Klaus, son of Jakub Klaus and Franciszka Liguz, parish Ksiaznice-Wola Mielecka, died in Wola Mielecka on 14 March 1879 at the age of 8 years, source, parish archives, indexed by Krzysztof Gruszka, accessed 3 August 2017; and

Roman Catholic Church, Sanktuarium Matki Bożej Fatimskiej – Różańcowej (Borki, Szczucin, Dąbrowa, Małopolska, Poland), “Ksiąg Metrykalnych”, 1870, #18, baptismal record for Paulus and Petrus Klaus. Note: There is a cross next to Petrus’ name which indicates that he died 22 July 1870; and

“Podkarpackie”, database, Polskie Towarzystwo Genealogiczne, Geneteka, (http://geneteka.genealodzy.pl), Search result for Klaus deaths in Podkarpackie, 1878, #28, Helena Klaus, daughter of Jakub Klaus and Franciszka Liguz, parish Ksiaznice-Wola Mielecka, died in Wola Mielecka on 15 August 1878 at the age of 3 years, source, parish archives, indexed by Krzysztof Gruszka, accessed 3 August 2017.

[5] “Podkarpackie”, database, Polskie Towarzystwo Genealogiczne, Geneteka, (http://geneteka.genealodzy.pl), Search result for Klaus deaths in Podkarpackie, 1874, #4, Józef Klaus, son of Jakub Klaus and Franciszka Liguz, parish Ksiaznice-Wola Mielecka, died in Wola Mielecka on 12 January 1874 at the age of 7 years, source, parish archives, indexed by Krzysztof Gruszka, accessed 3 August 2017.

[6] Roman Catholic Church, St. Stanislaus parish (Buffalo, Erie, New York, USA), Marriages, 1900, #77, record for Tomasz Klaus and Wiktorya Rak, 20 November 1900, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1873-1917,” FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3Q9M-CS4N-64QV-L?i=1468&cat=23415: http://familysearch.org : 7 August 2017), image 1469 of 1979.

[7] “Hamburg Passenger Lists, 1850-1934,“ Ancestry, (http://ancestry.com : 31 July 2019) S.S. Marsala, departing 14 September 1888, p 338, line 197, Jan Klaus, citing Staatsarchiv Hamburg; Hamburg, Deutschland; Hamburger Passagierlisten; Microfilm No.: K_1738, Volume 373-7 I, VIII A 1 Band 062 B.

[8] “New York Passenger Lists, 1820-1891,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:QVSL-CV45 : 17 December 2018), S.S. Marsala , arriving in New York on 1 October 1888, passenger no. 197, Jan Klaus, 1888; citing NARA microfilm publication M237 (Washington, D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, n.d.).

[9] “Hamburg Passenger Lists, 1850-1934,” Ancestry, (http://ancestry.com : 7 August 2019) S.S. British Queen, departing Hamburg 26 March 1889, p. 361, line 4, passenger Andrzey Klaus, citing Staatsarchiv Hamburg; Hamburg, Deutschland; Hamburger Passagierlisten; Microfilm No.: S_13155, Volume: 373-7 I, VIII B 1 Band 077.

[10] Roman Catholic Church, St. Stanislaus parish (Buffalo, Erie, New York, USA), Marriages, 1891, no. 26, record for Andrzej Klaus and Marya Łączka, 21 January 1891, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1873-1917,” FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:3Q9M-CS4N-64SL-7?i=1407&cat=23415 : 7 August 2019), image 1408 of 1979.

[11] Blaine Bettinger, “August 2017 Update to the Shared cM Project,” The Genetic Genealogist, https://thegeneticgenealogist.com: posted 26 August 2017).

[12] Pennsylvania Death Certificates, 1906-1966,” database, Ancestry, (http://ancestry.com : 7 August 2019), Plymouth, Luzerne, Pennsylvania, no. 60801, certificate for John Klaus, died 13 May 1920, citing  Pennsylvania Historic and Museum Commission; Pennsylvania, USA; Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1965; Certificate Number Range: 058501-061500, record for John Klaus, citing Pennsylvania (State). Death certificates, 1906–1963. Series 11.90 (1,905 cartons). Records of the Pennsylvania Department of Health, Record Group 11. Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

[13] “1910 United States Federal Census” (population schedule), Plymouth Ward 5, Luzerne, Pennsylvania, Enumeration District 105, Sheet 5A, John Klaus household, Ancestry (https://ancestry.com : 12 December 2018),  citing NARA microfilm publication T624, roll 1369.

[14] Clerk of Orphans Court of Luzerne County, Marriage License Docket, license no. 7356, John Clause and Mary Fratzkoska, married 21 January 1890, accessed as digital images,”Pennsylvania County Marriages, 1885-1950,” FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org :  19 December 2018), DGS no. 004268759, image 292 out of 625.

[15]“Massachusetts, Marriage Records, 1840-1915,” database with images, Ancestry (https://ancestry.com : 19 December 2018),  record for Thomas Klous [sic] and Florence Phillips, June 24, 1914, Southwick, Hampden, Massachusetts.

[16] Chicopee, Hampden, Massachusetts, no. 177 [?], death certificate for Marya Klaus, 30 December 1923; Chicopee Town Clerk’s Office, Chicopee, Massachusetts.

[17] “Poland Tarnow Roman Catholic Diocese Church Books – FamilySearch Historical Records Coverage Table,” FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/wiki/en/Poland_Tarnow_Roman_Catholic_Diocese_Church_Books_-_FamilySearch_Historical_Records_Coverage_Table : 10 August 2019).

[18] “Poland Tarnow Roman Catholic Diocese Church Books, 1612-1900,” Marianna Josepha Frankowski, baptized 5 August 1863, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:X5HQ-G5J : 10 August 2019).

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2019

Using the PRADZIAD Database

One of the most frequently-asked questions in Polish genealogy groups on Facebook is, “Where can I find vital records—whether church books or civil registrations—for X parish or registry office?” There are really only four answers to this question: vital records might be at the parish, the diocesan archive, the regional state archive, or the local civil records office (urząd stanu cywilnego, or USC). The devil is in the details, however. Sometimes it’s difficult to ascertain precisely which books are held by a given repository, without a phone call or email to the repository. At other times, it’s much simpler, and one of the tools that makes life simple is the PRADZIAD database.

What is PRADZIAD?

PRADZIAD’s official name is Baza danych Program Rejestracji Akt Metrykalnych i Stanu Cywilnego, or The Program for the Registration of Records from Parish and Civil Registration Offices. The name is also something of a play on words, since “pradziad” is the Polish word for “great-grandfather,” and this database pertains specifically to metrical books and civil registers, which are the source of vital records. Although the database originally (prior to 2011) excluded information from some of the state archives (Lublin, Poznań), it presently contains information on the vital records holdings of all the Polish state archives, plus some additional archives:

  • the Roman Catholic diocesan or archdiocesan archives in Łódź, Poznań, Płock, Szczecin, Warszawa-Praga, Włocławek, and Wrocław;
  • the Książnicy Pomorskiej im. Stanisława Staszica w Szczecinie (the Stanisław Staszic Pomeranian Library in Szczecin);
  • the records for the diocese of Pińsk held by the Archiwum Diecezjalnym w Drohiczynie (Roman Catholic diocesan archive in Drohiczyn);
  • the Fundacji Kultury i Dziedzictwa Ormian Polskich (the Foundation of Culture and Heritage of Polish Armenians); and
  • the “Zabużańskie archive,” which holds record books of the Jewish and Roman Catholic denominations that were formerly located in the Kresy (territories of Poland that became part of the USSR after 1944). The Zabużańskie books are currently stored at the Urząd Stanu Cywilnego m.st. Warszawy (Registry Office of the Capital City of Warsaw) but are gradually being transferred to the Archiwum Główne Akt Dawnych (Central Archive of Historical Records).

How Do I Search PRADZIAD?

The database can be searched quickly, easily, and with an English search interface, here. This same search screen is shown in Figure 1:

Figure 1: PRADZIAD search screen.PRADZIAD search screen

Although it’s pretty straightforward, there are a few things that are helpful to know in setting up a search.

  1. Diacritics are not required, so searching for “Lodz” will produce results for Łódź.
  2. The search term must be the name of the parish or registry office that served a village, not just the village name. If my ancestors were from Wola Koszucka, a village belonging to the Roman Catholic parish in Kowalewo Opactwo, powiat słupecki (Słupca County), I must search for Kowalewo, not Wola Koszucka. Not sure how to find the parish? Use a gazetteer. A number of them are listed here.
  3. All other input boxes except for the place name are optional. I usually skip the box where it says, “enter the name of the commune on the territory of which the town searched for is located or the county on the territory of which it was located before the war” because it’s easier to refine the search in other ways. However, when searching for a common place name (e.g. Dąbrowa), it’s useful to utilize the drop-down menu in the next option, where it states, “select the name of the province within the 1975-1998 or 1918-1939 borders.” This will help narrow the search results. If the province in which the parish was located under the old administrative structure is not known, there’s a handy tool offered by the PTG (Polskie Towarzystwo Genealogiczne) that can help. The PTG are the same folks who bring us Geneteka and Metryki and a whole host of other genealogical gems, and this particular tool is called the Katalog Zasobów Metrykalnych (Catalog of Metrical Resources). The search page is shown in Figure 2.

Figure 2: Search interface for the Katalog Zasobów Metrykalnych.Katalog

Diacritics are not required here, either, so I can search for “Dabrowa,” and find a list of all the parishes in Poland with “Dąbrowa” as part of the name (Figure 3).

Figure 3: Search results from the Katalog Zasobów Metrykalnych for “Dabrowa.” Only the top 16 search results out of 42 are shown.Katalog results for Dabrowa

The column boxed in red, “stare,” indicates the former województwo (province) to which the parish was assigned during the period from 1975-1998. From this chart, it is apparent that the parish of Dąbrowa which is located in the present-day Mazowieckie province, was formerly within the Ciechanów province. When this information is added to the search screen in PRADZIAD, the search hits are reduced from 111 down to 12.

4. Additional options for limiting search results include specifying the religion, and specifying the type of document (birth, marriage, death, etc.) While I rarely use the latter option, there are definitely times when specifying the religion can be useful.

The Fine Print

As you will have guessed by now, this database does not offer any information on individuals. It’s not a nominal index like Geneteka where the name of an ancestor can be searched. This database will only provide information on the vital-records holdings of the state archives (and a few additional archives, as noted above) for a particular location. A lack of results in PRADZIAD, does not imply that all the vital records for that location were destroyed, as vital records may still be found in the diocesan archive, the parish itself, or the USC (which would typically have the most recent 100 years of civil registrations, which are protected by Polish privacy laws). PRADZIAD offers no information on collections other than metrical books—such as census records, population registers, business records, town records, maps, photographs, notarial records, court records, etc.—which might be available for a given town. These can be discovered through a search at Szukajwarchiwach instead, where results will include all the holdings of the state archives related to a particular search term, including metrical books, where applicable. (For more information on using Szukajwarchiwach, a tutorial is available here.) Finally, search results displayed at PRADZIAD will not offer any indication of which collections might be found online and which can only be obtained by other means. It’s up to the researcher to perform his own due diligence before writing to the archive to request a search. (Examples of sites which offer online scans of vital records from Polish parishes include Szukajwarchiwach, Genealogia w Archiwach, Metryki, GenBaza, FamilySearch, etc.)

So what’s the point in searching only in PRADZIAD, if Szukajwarchiwach offers more comprehensive search results? It may be nothing more than a matter of personal preference, but for a researcher who is focused on finding vital records, the search format may be a little easier, and the results may be a little less to wade through, when using PRADZIAD. More information about writing to archives in Poland and examples of using PRADZIAD can be found here.  Happy researching!

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2020

 

 

Robert Hodgkinson’s Land

Genealogy and a love of old maps seem to go hand in hand, and I’m always excited to find new sites where I can find maps relevant to my geographic research areas. One site that’s especially nice for those researching Canadian ancestors is the Canadian County Atlas Digital Project site, hosted by McGill University. The site includes an impressive 43 atlases originally published between 1875–1881 from counties in Ontario, Quebec, and the Maritime provinces, but the best part is that property owners’ names were marked on the township maps. The site permits searching by surname (Figure 1), or alternatively, individual township maps can be selected from an 1880 map of Ontario counties (Figure 2)

Figure 1: Search screen for surname searches of the Canadian County Atlas database.Personal name search

Figure 2: Search screen for selecting counties based on 1880 map.Map search screen

So for example, a surname search for “Hodgkinson” produces 8 matches, including two which pertain to land owned by my 4x-great-grandfather, Robert Hodgkinson (Figure 3).

Figure 3: Search results for Hodgkinson, with results for Robert Hodgkinson of Grantham boxed in red.Robert Hodgkinson in Canadian County Atlas Project

Clicking “Go” for the first result shown indicates that Robert Hodgkinson owned a parcel of 130 acres on Lot 8, Concession I (Figure 4).

Figure 4: Full record for first search result for Robert Hodgkinson.Robert Hodgkinson search result 1

In Upper Canada following the American Revolution, undeveloped land was divided into townships, which were then subdivided into concessions, which were typically rectangular parcels of land, 1 1/4 miles wide, with concession roads running between them. Concessions were then divided into 200-acre lots, which could be further divided as needed. Robert Hodgkinson’s parcel of land, located on Lot 8, Concession I, can be viewed by clicking “Locate on Map,  which produces a close crop of the parcel in question as well as a thumbnail image of the map on which the parcel appears (Figure 5).

Figure 5: Mapped location of first parcel of land noted to be owned by Robert Hodgkinson.Hodgkinson parcel 1

When the process is repeated for the second search result in Figure 3, we can see that Robert Hodgkinson owned a second parcel of land immediately south of the first parcel, located on Lot 8 on Concession II.

To view these parcels in a broader geographic context, we can find the map on which they appear by returning to the map search page shown in Figure 2. Lincoln County is number 9 on the map index, and clicking on it produces a map from which individual townships can be selected (Figure 6).

Figure 6: Map of Lincoln County with individual township maps. Map of Lincoln county

Clicking on Grantham township produces a map of Grantham from 1876 (Figure 7) with an option to click to a closer view.

Figure 7: 1876 map of Grantham township.

Zooming in really allows us to see the lay of the land, so to speak, and both parcels of  Robert Hodgkinson’s land on Lot 8, Concession I and Lot 8, Concession II are clearly indicated (Figure 8). It’s evident that lots were numbered from east to west, starting at the border of Grantham Township and Niagara Township to the east, and concessions were numbered from north to south, starting at Lake Ontario.

Figure 8: Robert Hodgkinson’s land, Lot 8, Concession I and Lot 8, Concession II.Robert Hodgkinson's land close crop

What’s interesting here is that Robert Hodgkinson’s name was associated with these parcels of land as late as 1876, when the map was created, although he died in 1861, as his grave marker asserts (Figure 9).

Figure 9: Grave marker for Robert Hodgkinson, Victoria Lawn Cemetery, St. Catharines, Ontario. Photo credit Carol Roberts Fischer.robert-hodgkinson-grave-marker-rotated.jpg

As it happens, an earlier map of the area can be found thanks to a similar mapping project, the Ontario Historical County Maps Project, hosted by the University of Toronto. This project includes maps of 54 counties, produced between 1856 and 1888, and new maps continue to be added to the database. The main search page is shown in Figure 10.

Figure 10: Search portal for Ontario Historical County Maps Project.Ontario Historical County Maps Project

The map can be explored in several ways. Clicking on a county of interest, such as Lincoln County, reveals the source maps that were used for the site, and offers an option to download the scanned images (Figure 11). In the case of Lincoln County, the source map is from 1862, the year after Robert Hodgkinson died, and 14 years earlier than the map available from the Canadian County Atlas Digital Project.

Figure 11: Options for viewing maps of Lincoln County.Lincoln County map options

To quickly locate a particular land owner, one can search the Land Occupants Database by clicking the magnifying glass icon located near the upper right corner of the page (Figure 12). The database offers the capability to search by first and last name, and an option to generate a list of all the names found in a particular township, as well as an advanced search option which permits searching by lot number and concession number.

Figure 12: Land Occupants Database search portal.Land Occupants Database search option

A search for all land occupants with the surname Hodgkinson in this database returns three results, two of whom were land owners in Grantham:  F.A. Hodgkinson, on Concession II, Lot 11, and Hodgkinson with no given name specified, on Concession I, Lot 8. Selecting that second option pinpoints it on the map (Figure 13).

Figure 13: Search result for Hodgkinson on Concession I, Lot 8 in Grantham.Hodgkinson Plot 1862 map

Zooming in reveals that the indicated plot is actually one of two plots owned by the estate of R. Hodgkinson (Figure 14). This is consistent with the information obtained from the 1876 map, which indicated that Robert Hodgkinson owned part of Lot 8 on Concession I, in addition to owning all of Lot 8 on Concession II, and with the fact that Robert Hodgkinson himself died in 1861, so the land would have been in the possession of his heirs by 1862 when the map was created.

Having two maps created 14 years apart also enables us to note changes in ownership. According to the 1876 map, the lakefront portion of Lot 8 on Concession I was owned by Joseph Johnson (Figure 8), which suggests that Robert Hodgkinson’s estate must have sold that portion of the land some time between 1862 and 1876 when the second map was created.

Figure 14: Close-up view of parcel owned by the estate of R. Hodgkinson, boxed in red.Estate of R Hodgkinson

Zooming in still further converts the historical map to the current road map, and Robert Hodgkinson’s land is shown to be bordered by Read Road to the west, with Lakeshore Road running between Concessions 1 and 2, and Church Road bordering the Hodgkinson parcel to the south (Figure 15). Thomas Bate’s land lay in between the Hodgkinson land and Stewart Road, so the eastern border of the Hodgkinson land lies approximately halfway between Read Road and Stewart Road. The map also reveals that Read Road forms the present-day border between St. Catharines and Niagara-on-the-Lake, so the former Hodgkinson property lies right at the western end of present-day Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario.

Figure 15: Contemporary road map indicating location of Robert Hodgkinson’s land.Hodgkinson Modern Map

Of course, it’s always fun to check the satellite view to see what lies on one’s ancestral lands today. In this case (Figure 16), it looks like Lakeview Vineyard Equipment is located on Robert Hodgkinson’s land, along with a number of other homes and businesses with addresses along Read, Lakeshore, and Church Roads. There’s also quite a nice luxury home on a 21-acre estate that is most definitely located on land that once belonged to Robert Hodgkinson.

Figure 16: Satellite view of Robert Hodgkinson’s land today, with the approximate location of Lot 8 on Concession 1 boxed in red.Satellite map view

Anyone with ancestors who were landowners in Ontario in the mid-to-late 19th century can easily lose a few hours playing with these maps. They offer a fascinating glimpse into the past, as well as a bridge to the present. Inspired by these maps, I think I’ll plan a trip to Niagara-on-the-Lake this summer, and include a drive down Read Road, turning onto Lakeshore. I’ll park the car someplace where I can look out across the fields, feel the sunlight on my skin and the breeze in my hair. And I’ll remember that, once upon a time, Robert Hodgkinson, whose DNA I carry, probably looked out across those same fields more than a century before I was born.

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Perfect Storm

Many of us who engage in genealogical research are motivated in part by the intellectual thrill of the research process itself. While it can be satisfying to help people with any research question, I find it especially enjoyable to help people make the leap from the U.S. to Poland by finding documentary evidence in Polish records for their immigrant ancestors for whom they only have evidence from U.S. records. Many Polish vital records are now available online, so if an immigrant’s place of origin is known, it may just be a matter of identifying the parish or registry office that served that village, and then checking the appropriate databases to locate a vital record. If all the steps are followed logically, the hunt is successful. Yet every now and then, something goes awry, and things don’t fall into place the way they should. Such setbacks can be great learning experiences, however, so I want to share one of those stories here today, since it illustrates so nicely some of the pitfalls that can be encountered with Polish genealogy, even when those logical steps are followed.

This particular story unfolded in the Poland & Genealogy group on Facebook, where I currently volunteer as administrator, and group member Josh Wilberger gave me his permission to share the details. Josh came to the group, eager to begin research in Polish records on his great-grandfather, Jan Pudło, but unsure of where to start. Josh had already done significant research in U.S. records, so he was well-prepared for the jump across the ocean. Most importantly, he knew his great-grandfather’s date and place of birth and parents’ names, which are the critical pieces of information required for definitive identification of one’s ancestor in foreign documents. From Jan’s petition for naturalization, Josh knew that Jan/John Pudło was born 17 April 1891 in “Stara Wies, Lublin, Russia.” Similarly, the record of Jan’s marriage to Anna Gil in Perry, New York, in 1912, stated that Jan was the son of Paul (Paweł in Polish) Pudło and Agnes (Agnieszka) Ciesliak.

From this point on, one might expect the process of finding Jan Pudło’s birth record to be pretty straightforward. Knowing the birthplace, it’s necessary to determine the parish that served that village. Knowing the parish, it’s just a matter of checking various repositories to see if records from that parish are readily available from a state or diocesan archive, or if onsite research is required to find the baptismal record. Since the research target, Jan Pudło, was born in the Lublin region, it should be even easier to track down the birth record since this area is so thoroughly indexed in the Lubgens database, and many scans are online (e.g. at FamilySearch, Szukajwarchiwach, etc.). Piece of cake, right?

Which Old Village is Which?

The situation was complicated somewhat by the fact that “Stara Wieś, ” which means “Old Village,” is a very popular place name found throughout Poland today, as well as in territories that were historically Polish. Just how popular is it? Mapa.szukacz (“Map Searcher”) identifies 639 places called Stara Wieś that are within the borders of Poland today. It’s one of those place names like “Wola” (848 places by that name) and “Dąbrowa” (420 places) that makes even experienced researchers cringe, knowing how many parishes might have to be checked before the right location is finally determined. The fact that the particular Stara Wieś in question was known to be in the Lublin region helped to narrow the field somewhat. However, there were still seven unique places called Stara Wieś located in the Lublin gubernia (province) of the Russian Empire, according to the Skorowidz Królestwa Polskiego (Index of the Kingdom of Poland, fondly abbreviated by me as the SKP), published in 1877.[1]

As the name suggests, this two-volume gazetteer provides an index to places that were located within the former Kingdom of Poland, also known informally as Congress Poland or Russian Poland. My decision to consult this gazetteer was part of my modus operandi for tackling research questions like this. Whenever I’m faced with the task of identifying a village in Poland with a very common name, I usually begin by selecting a gazetteer that focuses on the particular partition of Poland (Prussian, Russian, or Austrian) in which the village was located circa 1900. (This assumes, of course, that the documents which provided the place name are from that era.) For Russian Poland, the SKP is my top choice, although the Skorowidz miejscowości Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej, which identifies places in the second Polish Republic (interwar Poland) is also useful for eastern borderlands locations that were in the Russian Empire in the 19th century, but were not located within the Kingdom of Poland. For the Prussian partition, I like Kartenmeister, which is currently down due to server problems, but will be back up soon, according to site owner Uwe-Karsten Krickhahn. For the Austrian partition, Brian J. Lenius’s Genealogical Gazetteer of Galicia is a great resource, although it’s not online, while several editions of Jan Bigo’s Galicia gazetteer (e.g. this one from 1904) can be found in the holdings of one or more Polish digital libraries. All of these gazetteers require the correct spelling of the location. Additional gazetteers, as well as phonetic gazetteers that can be used for place names that were misspelled in U.S. documents, can be found here.

Getting back to Stara Wieś and the search for Jan Pudło, Figure 1 shows the seven options (boxed in red) for places called Stara Wieś that were located in the Lublin gubernia.

Figure 1: Entries for Stara Wieś in the Skorowidz Królestwa Polskiego. Places within the Lublin province are boxed in red. Each entry provides the administrative assignments for that place; column headings (left to right) are place name, followed by the gubernia (province), powiat (county), gmina (community or township), and Roman Catholic parish to which each village belonged. Where two parishes are indicated, the place designated as “r.l.” was the location of the Roman Catholic parish, while “r.g.” was the location of the Greek Catholic parish.Stara Wies in the SKP

Although two of the villages in that list were noted to have Greek Catholic residents as well as Roman Catholic, Josh knew that his family was Roman Catholic, so the focus was on the Roman Catholic parishes. That meant seven unique parishes to check for the birth of Josh’s great-grandfather, circa 17 April 1891.

I say, “circa,” because it’s not at all uncommon to discover that a Polish immigrant was actually born on a different day than the one reported as his date of birth on U.S. records. People often believe that their ancestors lied about their dates of birth, but I think it’s dangerous to ascribe motives to people who lived in another time, place and culture. Moreover, it’s not necessary to assume an intent to deceive if we merely wish to reconcile a discrepancy in the dates of birth reported on two different documents. It seems more generous—and equally plausible—to attribute the discrepancy to something more innocuous, such as the fact that many immigrants did not know their birth dates precisely. They might know that they were born during the potato harvest, for example, or near the feast of Corpus Christi, but that’s it. Errors in reporting may also result from the Polish preference for celebrating imieniny, the feast day of one’s baptismal patron saint, rather than celebrating birthdays. In some cases, a child might be named after the saint on whose feast day he or she was born, but adherence to this practice was not always strict.

The net effect of these cultural differences is that I tend to take 19th-century birth dates reported by Polish immigrants on U.S. records with a grain of salt. In my research experience, both the date and the year of birth may be off by as much as 5–6 years, but if all the other evidence is consistent (place of birth, parents’ names, known siblings’ names and approximate dates of birth) then the birth record can safely be considered a match. It was from this perspective that I approached the search for Jan Pudło’s birth record. Sure, the petition for naturalization might state that Jan was born 17 April 1891, but I was very open to the possibility—or likelihood, even—that a birth record might be found which indicated that he was born on some other date in that ballpark.

The search for a birth record was greatly facilitated by the fact that Lublin-area vital records are so thoroughly indexed in the Lubgens database. A broad search for Jan Pudło’s birth between 1885 and 1897 in all indexed parishes produced 15 hits (Figure 2).

Figure 2: Results of search in Lubgens database for birth records for Jan Pudło, born between 1885 and 1897.Jan Pudlo birth results in Lubge3ns

The parish in which each of these births was recorded is stated in the “Parafia” column. Since we know that Josh’s great-grandfather was born in the village of Stara Wieś, and we know from the gazetteer that the seven Lublin-area villages called Stara Wieś belonged to the parishes of Łęczna, Końskowola, Frampol, Surhów, Targowisko, Puchaczew, and Nabróż, we can quickly scan this list for those parish names and eliminate any search hits that were not from one of these parishes. The result? There was exactly one birth for a Jan Pudło who was baptized in Targowisko, one of those seven parishes, and it just so happens that he was born precisely in 1891! Time for a Genealogical Happy Dance? Not so fast. The matching birth record is shown in Figure 3.

Figure 3: Birth record for Jan Pudło from the parish of Targowisko.[2]Wrong Jan Pudlo birth

The record is in Russian, as expected, but the underlined text was not expected. The text underlined in blue in the margin is the village in which the birth occurred, and it reads “Тарнавка” (Tarnawka), rather than mentioning the expected village of Stara Wieś. I took a look at the map, which shows two villages called Tarnawka—Tarnawka Pierwsza and Tarnawka Druga—that are adjacent to each other and just north of the parish of Targowisko. The villages of Stara Wieś Pierwsza and Stara Wieś Druga (“Old Village One” and “Old Village Two”) can be seen just north of the pair of Tarnawkas (Figure 4).
Figure 4: Position of the village(s) of Tarnawka relative to the parish of Targowisko and the target village(s) of Stara Wieś.Targowisko map

The text underlined in blue in the record itself (Figure 3) goes on to state (in translation) that the child “was born in Tarnawka on the 9th/21st day of May.” The second date, 21 May, is the date of birth according to the Gregorian calendar that we use, and it’s certainly not problematic, given how close it is to the expected date of 17 April 1891. It’s entirely reasonable to think that a Polish immigrant of this era might report his date of birth as 17 April 1891 if in fact he was born 21 May 1891. But more problematic is the fact that the father’s name was recorded as Piotr Pudło, while the mother’s name was recorded as Marianna Milanoska. Based on our evidence from Jan’s marriage record, the parents’ names ought to be Paweł Pudło and Agnieszka Cieślak or Cieslak (the two most probable surnames suggested by “Ciesliak”—a surname which exists in Polish records in that form, but is very rare).

So, what’s going on here? Could this still be the right birth record for Josh’s great-grandfather? In cases like this, it can be difficult to be certain, since there’s such a limited amount of data. As improbable as it may seem, I’ve seen cases where a Polish immigrant reported his own mother’s name incorrectly on documents in the U.S. (see here). Could it be that Jan Pudło did not know his own mother’s name, and the priest happened to record his father’s name incorrectly as well? Maybe, but the odds of both names being in error, as well as the village name being different from expected, made this scenario seem highly implausible, despite the fact that the date of birth was approximately correct. But if this record was not the birth record for Josh’s great-grandfather, Jan Pudło, then where was that birth record?

Back to the Drawing Board

Searching for scraps of information that might help explain this situation, I noticed that on the map shown in Figure 4, the villages of Stara Wieś Pierwsza and Stara Wieś Druga are approximately equidistant between Targowisko to the south and another village, Bychawa, to the north. Bychawa was also mentioned in the search results in Figure 2. Moreover, I noticed that the Lubgens database includes indexed vital records from a parish called Stara Wieś in gmina Bychawa that was not mentioned in the SKP (Figure 5).

Figure 5: Information on the parish of St. Stanisław, Bishop and Martyr, found in the Lubgens database.Stara Wies parish page on Lubgens

The fact that the earliest records indexed in the database are from 1930 explains why this parish was not mentioned in the SKP—it didn’t exist in 1877. A quick internet search revealed that the parish of Stara Wieś was erected in 1932 and included villages that formerly belonged to the parishes of Bychawa and Boże Wola.[3]

Right Church, Wrong Pew

At this point, it dawned on me: the information in the SKP must be incorrect. Much as I love gazetteers and rely on them to be guideposts in my genealogical journey, pointing the way to the correct parish for each village, it’s important to remember that no gazetteer is 100% accurate—or at least, I have yet to find one that is. When things don’t add up, it’s advisable to check a second gazetteer, so in this case, I checked the Skorowidz miejscowości Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej, published circa 1933.[4] Lo, and behold, the parish for the Stara Wieś that was located in Krasnystaw county and gmina Zakrzew—the same Stara Wieś that was noted in the SKP as belonging to Targowisko parish—was noted in this gazetteer to be in Bychawa (Figure 6)!

Figure 6: Entry for Stara Wieś in gmina Zakrzew, Krasnystaw county from the Skorowidz miejscowości Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej.Stara Wies in Second Polish Republic Gazetteer

If further confirmation is desired from a gazetteer more contemporaneous with the birth of Jan Pudło, the Słownik geograficzny Królestwa Polskiego i innych krajów słowiańskich (Geographical Dictionary of the Kingdom of Poland and Other Slavic Countries) can be checked. This gazetteer, published between 1880 and 1902, contains five pages of entries for villages named Stara Wieś that were located in all three of the Polish partitions (Russian, Prussian and Austrian). Although entries are organized in a logical fashion (explained on pages 5-6 of Volume 1), it can still be a lot to wade through, which is why I didn’t check this gazetteer immediately. Nonetheless, our Stara Wieś is cataloged in entry 27 on page 226 of Volume 11, which clearly states that this village belonged to the parish in Bychawa (Figure 7).[5]

Figure 7: Beginning of entry for Stara Wieś in gmina Zakrzew, Krasnystaw county, in the Słownik geograficzny Królestwa Polskiego i innych krajów słowiańskich, underlined in red.Stara Wies from SGKP

Once the correct parish was firmly established, it was a simple matter of using the links in the Lubgens database (Figure 2) to check the scans from the parish in Bychawa and find the correct birth record. As luck would have it, my concerns about potential inaccuracy in Jan’s reporting of his date of birth were completely unfounded, as the record indicates that he was born on 29 April 1891, pretty darn close to when he thought he was born. The correct birth record is shown in Figure 8.[6]

Figure 8: Birth record for Jan Pudło, born 29 April 1891 in Stara Wieś.Jan Pudlo 1891

In translation, the record states,

“No. 121, Stara Wieś. This happened in the suburb of Bychawa on the 17th/29th day of April in the year 1891 at 5:00 in the afternoon. Paweł Pudło appeared, a peasant residing in the village of Stara Wieś, age 52, in the presence of Tomasz Makowski of Stara Wieś, age 37, and Józef Janczarek of Bychawa, age 27, peasants; and showed us a child of the male sex, stating that it was born in Stara Wieś on the 17th/29th day of April of the current year at 3:00 in the morning of his wife, Agnieszka née Cieśla, age 35. At Holy Baptism, performed today, the name Jan was given, and his godparents were Tomasz Makowski and Antonina Josikowa. This document was read to the declarant and witnesses, and because of their illiteracy it was signed only by Us. [signed] Fr. Wojciech Makara, Acting Civil Registrar”

That’s a Wrap

The matching parents’ names, place of birth, and date of birth confirm that this, at last, is the correct birth record for Josh’s great-grandfather. The irony in this situation is that the process of “doing it right” created obstacles to the research because the information in the SKP was incorrect. If no attempt had been made to identify the parish for the village of Stara Wieś, this birth record might have been discovered more quickly by using the “brute force” method of reading through all the search hits in the Lubgens database one by one. Even despite the broad search range (1885-1897), which was employed based on previous research experience, there were only 15 birth records to check, and if only the births from 1891 were considered, there were only three records to check. The correct birth record would have been found in any case, but as it played out, this was a perfect storm, a Murphy’s Law scenario in which everything converged to create research havoc. Really, what were the chances that the SKP would misidentify the parish, but that there just happened to be another Jan Pudło born in that incorrect parish in the same year as the target Jan Pudło?

I’m also amused by the multiplication of villages called Stara Wieś in the area where Jan Pudło was born. All the gazetteers mentioned only one Stara Wieś that belonged to the parish in Bychawa, yet the modern map indicates four such villages: Stara Wieś, Stara Wieś Pierwsza, Stara Wieś Druga, and Stara Wieś Trzecia—Old Village, Old Village One, Old Village Two and Old Village Three (Figure 9).

Figure 9: Four Old Villages, courtesy of Google Maps.Four Old Villages

In fact, an advanced search of Mapa.szukacz reveals 103 places called Stara Wieś that are within the borders of the Lublin province today. This is a considerable increase from the seven villages called Stara Wieś that existed in the Lublin gubernia in 1877 according to the SKP, an increase which is surprising even despite the fact that the current Lublin province covers a larger area than the former Lublin gubernia (9712 square miles vs. 6499 square miles).[7] Couldn’t they make the lives of genealogists a little easier by coming up with more creative names for the villages, at least?

So what take-home lessons can be gained from all of this?

  1. Despite occasional inaccuracies, gazetteers are still an invaluable asset for your research. In absence of any gazetteers or indexed records to fall back on, one would have to approach this project by locating an old map of the Lublin gubernia with sufficient scale to show tiny villages, looking for every village called Stara Wieś, and then investigating all the surrounding villages to see which ones had Catholic parishes that were in existence in the time period in question. After that, one would have to check the records from each of those parishes for the target baptismal record. Who has time for that?
  2. You may need to check more than one gazetteer before proceeding with the research. In this case, indexed records with linked scans made the research simple. But if records were not available online and it was necessary to hire an onsite researcher to visit the parish in person to obtain records, I would definitely check two or three gazetteers before proceeding with the research.
  3. Evaluate each new piece of evidence in light of the total. Historical research is messy at times, and names and dates might be recorded somewhat differently in different records. But if you have to work really hard to argue that the individual described in a given record is a match for someone in your family tree, consider the possibility that you may be wrong, and keep looking for the right record.

All’s well that ends well. Jan Pudło has been successfully identified in Polish records, and Josh’s research can proceed apace. But it certainly was an interesting journey back to Stara Wieś through a perfect storm.

Sources:

[1] Zinberg, I. Skorowidz Królestwa Polskiego czyli Spis alfabetyczny miast, wsi, folwarków, kolonii i wszystkich nomenklatur w guberniach Królestwa Polskiego, z wykazaniem: gubernii, powiatu, gminy, parafii, sądu pokoju lub gminnego, oraz najbliższej stacyi pocztowej, wraz z oddzielnym spisem gmin podług najświeższej ich liczby i nazwy ułożony, wykazujący: odległość każdej danej gminy od miasta powiatowego i sądu swojego gminnego; czy i jakie znajdują się w gminie zakłady fabryczne lub przemysłowe, szkoły itp. oraz ludność każdej gminy, obejmujący także podział sądownictwa krajowego świeżo urządzonego. T. 2, p. 174, “Stara wieś,” Śląska Biblioteka Cyfrowa (https://www.sbc.org.pl/dlibra : 24 October 2019).

[2] “Akta stanu cywilnego Parafii Rzymskokatolickiej w Targowisku, 1876-1917,” 1891, Akta urodzeń, małżeństw, zgonów, births, no. 70, record for Jan Pudło, Szukajwarchiwach (https://szukajwarchiwach.pl : 28 October 2019), image 17 out of 67.

[3]Parafia św. Stanisława w Starej Wsi,” Wikipedia PL (https://pl.wikipedia.org : 28 October 2019).

[4] Tadeusz Bystrzycki, Skorowidz miejscowości Rzeczypospolitej Polskiej z oznaczeniem terytorjalnie im właściwych władz i urzędów oraz urządzeń komunikacyjnych [Index of place names of the Republic of Poland with corresponding govermental agencies and offices, including communication facilities] (Przemyśl, Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Książnicy Naukowej, circa 1933), 1607, “Stara Wieś,” Wielkopolska Biblioteka Cyfrowa (http://www.wbc.poznan.pl : 28 October 2019).

[5] Filip Sulimierski, et al., Słownik geograficzny Królestwa Polskiego i innych krajów słowiańskich [Geographical Dictionary of the Kingdom of Poland and Other Slavic Lands] (Warszawa: Nakładem Władysława Walewskiego, 1880-1902), Tom XI, 226, “Stara Wieś,” DIR—Zasoby Polskie (http://dir.icm.edu.pl/pl/ : 28 October 2019).

[6] “Akta stanu cywilnego Parafii Rzymskokatolickiej w Bychawie, 1826-1916,” 1891, Księga urodzeń, małżeństw i zgonów, births, no. 121, record for Jan Pudło, Szukajwarchiwach (https://szukajwarchiwach.pl : 28 October 2019), image 20 out of 75.

[7]Lublin Voivodeship,” Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org : 28 October 2019); and    “Gubernia lubelska,” (https://pl.wikipedia.org/ : 28 October 2019).

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2019

Eight Surnames of My Own

Not so recently, genealogy blogger James Scobbie wrote a post which created quite a buzz in the Facebook genealogy world.[1] He proposed that each of us should know or learn the eight surnames of our great-grandparents, and be able to recite them with ease, since this is a manageable amount of family history for anyone to carry around in his or her own head. Moreover, these surnames convey a more complete picture of who we are—insofar as our identity is determined by the people we come from—than does our surname alone, or even our surname plus mother’s maiden name.

I really liked this idea, and I find myself thinking about it still, long after the buzz has died down. I grew up with a surname, Roberts, that created misconceptions about my family’s origins. The surname is typically British, but in fact, my Roberts forebears were German immigrants with the surname Ruppert, who changed the name to Roberts upon settling in Detroit in the 1850s. Back then, German Catholic immigrants were among the groups targeted by the anti-immigrant “Know Nothing” party, so I’m sure it made sense for my Ruppert ancestors to keep their heads down and assimilate as quickly as possible.[2] Despite this German heritage, which was repeated on Dad’s maternal side of the family (Meier/Boehringer), I didn’t grow up with any German traditions. I always believed that was because Dad’s family settled in America much earlier than Mom’s did, but as I look at their immigration dates more closely (Figure 1), I don’t think that explanation is entirely satisfactory.

Figure 1: Timeline for immigration to North America in my family.Timeline for Immigration to North America in my family

As evident from the table, my German ancestors Anna Goetz and Wenzeslaus Meier both arrived in the U.S. around the same time that my Polish ancestors Andrew Klaus and Mary Łącka arrived from Galicia, and just a few years before my Polish ancestors John Zazycki and Veronica Grzesiak arrived from the Russian Empire. Perhaps my German ancestors were simply less sentimental? More likely, anti-German sentiment during World Wars I and II played a role.[3] The result was a loss of German traditions and culture in my family, even despite my mother’s best efforts to give equal time to those traditions by teaching my sister and me to sing “O Tannenbaum” in German along with all the Polish Christmas carols. Even the favorite recipes were lost, for the most part. I have just one of Nana Boehringer’s recipes, for her bread dumplings, but I’ve had to try to recreate her famous fruit kaffee kuchen for myself, based on Dad’s fond recollections.

And so it was mostly the Polish traditions, songs, and foods from Mom’s side of the family that became part of my cultural identity. It could not possibly be Christmas without celebrating Wigilia on Christmas Eve, breaking the opłatek with my family, and feeling the love, peace and contentment that overflowed as we wished each other health, happiness, and all good things. Easter meant Święconka breakfast with ham, kiełbasa, hard-boiled eggs, and Grandma’s placek, with its plump raisins and butter-crumb topping. Spending time at Grandma and Grandpa Zielinski’s house meant visiting with Grandma in the kitchen while hearing Grandpa playing “Góralu, czy ci nie żal,” on the piano in the living room, or listening to the Sunday afternoon polka fest on the radio. The Polish-American traditions were so close to my heart that it felt problematic to have a surname which conveyed no hint of this heritage. Whenever conversations would turn to ethnic traditions and I would enthusiastically mention the Polish customs in my family, people would raise their eyebrows and say, “Roberts? That’s not Polish!”

This dual Polish-German ethnicity comprises the bulk of my eight surnames, but there’s one additional ethnic component that was largely glossed over as I was growing up. I think I was already an adult by the time I realized that my great-grandmother, Katherine Walsh Roberts, was actually born in Canada. I was dimly aware that her ancestry was a mixture of English, Irish and Scottish, but I’d somehow supposed that they were all 19th-century immigrants to Canada. It wasn’t until 2006 that I discovered that Great-Grandma Roberts’ lineage included not only 19th century immigrants to Canada, but also United Empire Loyalists with roots deep in the American colonies. The knowledge of that ancestry seems to have been buried in the family history, perhaps when my great-great-grandfather Henry Walsh decided to move his family back over the Canadian border, to Buffalo, New York.

If little remains of German cultural identity in my family, even less remains of English, Irish or Scottish ethnic identity. Such is the nature of assimilation, I suppose, and the day may come when that Polish ethnic identity which has always been so important to me, is just a distant memory for my descendants, buried as deeply as our ancestral English, Irish and Scottish origins. When my Polish grandparents passed away, the Polish language disappeared from my family as well—an inestimable loss, since shared language is the most fundamental characteristic of a culture. My son Daniel studied the Polish language at the University of Buffalo and even at Jagiellonian University during a summer program in Kraków, so perhaps his efforts will aid in preserving Polish heritage for future generations of my family. Yet I can’t help but wonder what eight surnames will be included in the lists of my great-great-grandchildren, assuming I have any, and what ethnic traditions they’ll celebrate. I won’t be here to meet them, of course. By then, I hope to be “hanging out” in the next life with all those ancestors who are presently my “brick walls” in the family tree, finally getting answers to all my questions.

Here, then, are my Eight Surnames, representing ancestors who may have originated in Poland, Germany, and Canada, but whose descendants are now as thoroughly American as apple pie.

  • Zielinski
  • Klaus
  • Zazycki
  • Grzesiak
  • Roberts
  • Walsh
  • Boehringer
  • Meier

What are your Eight Surnames, and what’s their story?

Sources

[1] James M. Scobbie, “The Theory of Eight Surnames,” Noisybrain (https://noisybrain.wordpress.com : 16 October 2019), posted 28 December 2018.

[2] “Know Nothing,” Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org : 16 October 2019)

[3] Robert Siegel and Art Silverman, “During World War I, U.S. Government Propaganda Erased German Culture,” All Things Considered, NPR, broadcast 7 April 2017 (https://www.npr.org : 16 October 2019).

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2019

New Ethnicity Estimates from 23&Me: Getting Better, Maybe?

23&Me recently updated their ethnicity estimates to include a great deal more detail, and the results are frankly fascinating. In some cases, they nailed it. In other cases, not so much. So what does that mean about the overall accuracy of their analysis?

My “Eastern European” Ancestry

Before I go into the analysis, I should mention that I actually have two separate ethnicity estimates generated by 23&Me. The first was based on DNA data downloaded from Ancestry, and uploaded to 23&Me during a special one-day event in April 2018. (23&Me no longer accepts uploads from Ancestry or any other company.) The second ethnicity estimate was based on testing done with 23&Me directly. As expected, these estimates differ a bit, so for the purpose of this discussion, I’m going to refer to the ethnicity estimate generated through testing directly with 23&Me.

According to the analysis by 23&Me, I’m 99.8% European. Of this, 45.4% is “Eastern European,” which means Polish, in my case. I’ve discovered that this “Eastern European” designation is a sore spot with many Poles today because of its inaccuracy:  geographically, culturally, and historically, Poland is Central European, not Eastern. It would make more sense for the DNA test companies to use the term “Slavic,” to describe this genetic component, but unfortunately, they don’t, so I’ll continue to use their “Eastern European” term for the sake of consistency.

23&Me reports that all 45.4% of that “Eastern European” component is accounted for by  Polish ancestors, with Polish ancestry being “highly likely.” So far, so good; by pedigree, I’m 50% Polish. But here’s where it starts to get interesting. In this latest update, 23&Me further refines that estimate and claims that, out of Poland’s 16 modern day voivodeships (provinces), the strongest evidence of my ancestry was found in the following provinces, which are ranked in terms of confidence (Figure 1):

Figure 1: 23&Me’s map indicating strength of evidence for biogeographic origins within present-day Poland. Darker colors indicate stronger evidence of ancestry.

23 & Me Poland Map

As stated in the figure, “Poland has 16 administrative regions, and we found the strongest evidence of your ancestry in the following 6 regions:

  1. Subcarpathian (Podkarpackie) Voivodeship
  2. Lesser Poland (Małopolskie) Voivodeship
  3. Lublin (Lubelskie) Voivodeship
  4. Silesian (Słąskie) Voivodeship
  5. Greater Poland (Wielkopolskie) Voivodeship
  6. Masovian (Mazowieckie) Voivodeship”

How does this compare with documented pedigree? If we look at this list again, with documented ancestry from that region in parenthesis, we have:

  1. Subcarpathian (Podkarpackie) Voivodeship (1/16 ancestry, or 6.25%)
  2. Lesser Poland (Małopolskie) Voivodeship (1/16 ancestry, or 6.25%)
  3. Lublin (Lubelskie) Voivodeship (0% ancestry)
  4. Silesian (Słąskie) Voivodeship (0% ancestry)
  5. Greater Poland (Wielkopolskie) Voivodeship (1/8 ancestry, or 12.5%)
  6. Masovian (Mazowieckie) Voivodeship (1/4 ancestry, or 25%)

I found it really interesting that genetic contributions from the Podkarpackie and Małopolskie provinces seemed to be so pronounced. I have one great-great-grandfather, Andrzej Klaus, whose family was from an area presently located in Małopolska, and one great-great-grandmother, Marianna Łącka (Andrzej’s wife), whose family was from a village presently located in Podkarpacka, so it makes sense that genetic traces from those regions showed up in the analysis. But I have four great-great-grandparents from Mazowieckie province, which shows up much further down the list, and two great-great-grandparents from Wielkopolskie province. In all those cases, I have identified DNA matches which confirm documentary evidence. This means that I really do have ancestry from all the regions I think I do, in the proportions that I think I do.

So how do we account for the differences between documented pedigree and 23&Me’s genetic analysis? It’s certainly possible that I have deeper ancestry in some of the regions for which 23&Me found genetic traces, beyond what I’ve been able to document thus far. However, it’s important to remember that this analysis superimposes modern geographic province borders over the data, in a way that is both arbitrary and artificial,  and I think this is probably the reason behind the supposed genetic contributions from the Śląskie and Lubelskie provinces, from which I have no documented ancestry.  The test simply lacks the sophistication to accurately differentiate between “Masovian DNA” and “Lublin DNA,” because the genetic differences between people whose ancestors were from those regions is so slight.

My French and German Ancestry

By pedigree, I’m 50% “Northwestern European” (as 23&Me defines it) on my Dad’s side.  Twelve of my 32 great-great-great-grandparents are from Germany or Alsace, which comes to 37.5%, and another 4 out of those 32 great-great-grandparents (12.5%) came from the British Isles. What 23&Me actually reports is that I’m only 37.4% Northwestern European, which is further refined to 21.8% French and German, and 6.8% British Isles.  Of that 21.8%, German ancestry is considered to be “highly likely,” with the strongest evidence of my German ancestry coming from the regions of Bavaria, Baden-Württemberg, North Rhine-Westphalia, and Hamburg (Figure 2).

Figure 2: 23&Me’s map indicating strength of evidence for biogeographic origins within present-day Germany.

23&Me Germany map

As stated in the figure, the strongest evidence for my ancestry was found in the administrative regions of

  1. Bavaria
  2. Baden-Württemberg
  3. Hamburg
  4. North Rhine-Westphalia

Bavarian ancestry is certainly consistent with the paper trail, and this Bavarian component appears to have left the strongest mark on my DNA as indicated by its deep-blue color on the map. Three of my great-great-grandparents—Anna Murre, Wenzeslaus Meier, and Anna Goetz—have documented roots in Bavaria. For the Meiers and the Goetzes, those roots are deep, although in the case of the Murre family, I have yet to discover the family’s specific place of origin in Bavaria. Similarly, my great-great-grandfather, John G. Boehringer, had roots in Baden-Württemberg, just west of Bavaria. Check. But Nordrhein-Westfalen and Hamburg? There’s nothing in the paper trail to link my family to those locations.

Conspicuously absent from the list are the German states of Rheinland-Pfalz (Rheinland-Palatinate) and Hessen. I have documented ancestry in both those regions through my Roberts/Ruppert and Wagner great-great-great-grandparents, so 1/32 (3.125%) of my ancestry should trace back to those states. Yet they don’t show up in 23&Me’s analysis at all. However, when one considers the location of all three of these states in relation to one another (Figure 3), it seems probable that these discrepancies result from superimposing modern geographical boundaries onto historical populations. Hessen and Rheinland-Pfalz lie just south of Nordrhein-Westfalen, so it may be difficult for any DNA test to distinguish between those populations genetically. The test may be picking up on my Hessen/Rheinland-Pfalz ancestry and erroneously reporting it as Nordrhein-Westfalen. Of course, that explanation still doesn’t account for the trace of “Hamburg” DNA in the last 200 years. Go figure.

Figure 3: Map of Germany showing relative positions of Nordrhein-Westfalen, Rheinland-Pfalz, and Hessen.1

small map germany

The next three components of my French and German ancestry, which are considered to be “likely,” feel like spitballing. 23&Me reports that I have French ancestry from the Brittany region, Swiss ancestry from the Valais canton, and Dutch ancestry from the South Holland region, all within the last 200 years. I’m not buying those specific regions —Brittany, Valais and South Holland—and I have no evidence of Dutch ancestry at all, either in the paper trail or in the trees of my DNA matches. However, I do have one family of documented Alsatian origin—that of 3x-great-grandmother Catherine Grentzinger from Steinsoultz, Alsace—as well as another 3x-great-grandmother, Mary Magdalene Causin, who was probably Alsatian. Together they would contribute 6.25% of my DNA, and I believe their genes are probably the source of the French/Swiss ancestry reported by 23&Me. I know so little about Mary Magdalena Causin’s origins that I can’t state definitively that her family was not from Brittany, Valais, or South Holland, but Alsace seems much more probable based on documentary evidence gathered to date.

My British Isles Ancestry

23&Me reported that I have 6.2% British Isles ancestry, which is a bit less than the 12.5% which would be predicted statistically, but is nonetheless reasonable, given the random nature of DNA inheritance through recombination. For this relatively minor component of my genetic make-up, 23&Me offers no fewer than 11 distinct areas from which these genes are supposed to originate. Starting with the United Kingdom, 23&Me reports the strongest evidence of my genetic ancestry  from the following regions, ranked in terms of confidence (Figure 4):

Figure 4: 23&Me’s map indicating strength of evidence for biogeographic origins within the present-day United Kingdom.23&Me UK map

23&Me reports that the strongest evidence of my ancestry was found in the following 10 of the U.K.’s 165 administrative regions:

  1. Greater London
  2. Greater Manchester
  3. Northumberland
  4. Tyne and Wear
  5. Lancashire
  6. South Yorkshire
  7. Aberdeen City
  8. Dumfries and Galloway
  9. Glasgow City
  10. West Yorkshire

Ireland is also noted as a possible place of origin for my ancestors, although there were insufficient data for their algorithms to point to any particular part of Ireland.

So how does this relate to what I know of my British ancestors? My most recent British ancestor was my great-great-great-grandfather, Robert Dodds, and there’s documentary and DNA evidence to suggest that he came from the general vicinity of Northumberland, possibly the village of Ford. That may account for the genetic traces from Northumberland and Tyne and Wear, and may also account for the Dumfries and Galloway component. Similarly, I have an Irish great-great-great-grandfather, Robert Walsh. So far, so good. My next mystery ancestor with roots in the British Isles was Robert Dodds’ wife, Catherine, whose maiden name was variously reported as Grant or Irving, and whose ancestry was generally reported as Scottish. Given that I don’t even know her maiden name, I can say nothing about her specific origins within Scotland. However, this list would suggest origins in Dumfries and Galloway, Aberdeen, or Glasgow—options with such geographic disparity that they don’t offer much insight beyond the basic fact of Scottish ancestry, which I already knew.

Going back still further in the family tree, I have Hodgkinson and Spencer ancestors who were Loyalists during the American Revolution. There’s some evidence that Robert Spencer, United Empire Loyalist, was a descendant of Michael Spencer, one of four immigrant Spencer brothers who settled in the American colonies during the Great Migration. The Spencer brothers were known to be from Bedfordshire, but detecting such distant ancestry with any sort of confidence is beyond the capabilities of autosomal DNA testing. It seems to be anyone’s guess where John Hodgkinson was from, nor do we even know for certain the maiden name of his daughter-in-law, Christina Hodgkinson, who was the wife of his son, Robert. Christina was my 4x-great-grandmother, 6 generations back from me, which is sufficiently recent in the family tree that she almost certainly left detectable traces in my genes.2

Could Christina or John Hodgkinson be from Greater London, Greater Manchester, Lancashire, or West or South Yorkshire? Sure, why not? Yet the DNA evidence at this point is far too flimsy for us to conclude that it must be so. Once we’re down in this “trace” region, it seems that anything goes—and by “trace,” I mean that any component that represents less than 5% of the total seems suspect to me. This is where it starts to get bizarre, since I have absolutely no documentary evidence for any of the the remaining ethnicities highlighted in the report. According to 23&Me, I’m 6.3% Southern European, which breaks down to

  • 2.8% Italian, with “evidence” of ancestry in Sicily and Campania
  • 0.6% Greek and Balkan, with another
  • 2.9% Broadly Southern European.

In addition to that, I’m 0.8% Ashkenazi Jewish, 6.3% Broadly European, and another 0.7% Northern West Asian. There’s a crazy temptation to wonder if this could possibly, somehow be true. There could always be a misattributed parentage lurking in the family tree, right? Or more than one? But that way madness lies. The best remedy seems to be buckling down and extending my family tree through documentary research as far as possible. Perhaps my documentary research will eventually identify some distant, mysterious ancestor(s) from Southern Europe who left their stamp on my DNA. Or perhaps continued refinement of those ethnicity estimates will reveal those ethnic components to be mere phantoms, artifacts of the testing algorithm. Only time will tell.

Sources

1 Germany Map Political Regions,” Pixabay, (https://pixabay.com// : 8 October 2019).

The Coop Lab, Population and Evolutionary Genetics UC Davis, “How much of your genome do you inherit from a particular ancestor?,”  GC Bias, posted 24 November 2013 (https://gcbias.org// : 8 October 2019).

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2019

 

Categories DNA

Party Like It’s 1899, Continued

In my last post, I wrote about an imaginary visit to the year 1899, prompted by a post in the Facebook group, “GAA (Genealogy Addicts Anonymous)” In that group, Admin Claudia D’Souza recently posed the question to the members of the group, “Imagine you wake up and you are in the year 1899! Who are you going to visit, & what are you going to find out?” I had quite a bit of fun thinking about that question—so much fun, in fact, that I decided to break up my musings into two posts. Since I already discussed my game plan for visiting and interviewing my relatives on my paternal side, I’ll move on now to my plan for visiting my maternal relatives, based on hypothetical time travel to August 31st, 1899. I’ve updated the interactive map to include all the new places I’ll be visiting on my journey.

My Maternal Grandmother’s Family

Many of my Mom’s relatives were already in Buffalo by today’s date in 1899, so I’ll start my journey there. I’ll head first to 25 Clark Street, on Buffalo’s East Side. This is where 22-year-old Weronika/Veronica Grzesiak has been living in Buffalo for a little over a year, boarding with the family of Michał/Michael and Marianna/Mary (née Derda) Staszak.

Figure 1: Wedding portrait of Weronika Grzesiak and Jan Zażycki, 5 August 1901, Buffalo, New York. Left to right, Tadeusz Grzesiak (brother of the bride), Jan Zażycki, Józefa Grzesiak (sister of the bride), Weronika Grzesiak.Veronica Grzesiak & John Zazycki wedding

Veronica, who will be my great-grandmother, named Michael Staszak as the relative she was going to join, and her passenger manifest clearly states “brother-in-law and sister,” which suggests that she must be related to his wife. Interestingly, Polish records offer no evidence that Veronica and Mary were related in any way, much less through a relationship as close as sister or half-sister. However, Mary Staszak was from Kowalewo-Opactwo, the same village in which Veronica grew up, so it’s probable that they were good friends. Moreover, Veronica and Mary traveled together on the S.S. Willehad when they made the journey from Kowalewo to Buffalo, along with Michael and Mary’s two children, 9-year-old Józefa and 7-year-old Franciszek.

I know a lot about Veronica’s ancestry, yet I still have questions about her family. I know that at least two of her siblings, Władysław and Konstancja, moved to Warsaw and were married there in August 1898 and June 1898, respectively. What prompted their move? Did any of the other siblings move as well? What happened to Pelagia, the sister who disappears from the records after her birth in Kowalewo in 1869? I know that Veronica is working hard in the kitchen of a restaurant and saving up her money to bring her father and siblings to the U.S. I also know that one year from now, her father, Józef, and siblings Tadeusz, Józefa, Władysław, and Władysław’s wife, Kazimiera, will join her in Buffalo. Why will her mother, Marianna (née Krawczyńska) Grzesiak, not come as well? Will she merely choose to stay in Warsaw with her daughter Konstancja and Konstancja’s husband, Julian Cieniewski?

By May of 1900 when most of the family leaves for America, Konstancja will already be pregnant with her daughter Wiktoria, due in December. Will she simply plead for her mother to stay with her and help her through the birth, until Marianna finally relents and allows her husband and other children to go to America without her? Or was something else going on? Why will Józef report on his passenger manifest that he was a widower, and why will three of her children appear not to know their mother’s name, reporting it variously on U.S. records as Anna Nowacka, Mary Cebulska, and Marianna Szafron? Why will the story be handed down that Marianna Grzesiak was already deceased by the time Veronica left for America, when in fact she will not die until 1904? All these facts seem to suggest that Marianna was estranged from her family for some reason. Was this the case, or am I just over-interpreting the data?

More answers might be found by visiting her family in the Old Country, so I’ll book passage to Bremen or Hamburg, and from there, make my way to Warsaw, where I hope to find Weronika’s oldest brother, Władysław Grzesiak, and his new bride, Kazimiera (née Olczak), living in the Koło neighborhood within the Wola district of the city. I’ll want to ask Władysław where his parents are living, and which of his siblings are also living in Warsaw. I expect I’ll find the youngest sister, Józefa, here, since family stories handed down among her descendants suggest that she, too, may have lived in Warsaw just prior to emigration. It may very well be that the entire Grzesiak family has moved here within the past year. Władysław’s marriage record from August 1898 stated that his parents were living in “Borowo,” although the record failed to specify which place was meant, out of nearly two dozen places by that name located within the borders of Poland today. However, Józef Grzesiak was apparently living in Warsaw by 27 March 1899, since he was named as a witness on the birth record for his first grandson, Marian Cieniewski, son of Konstancja Grzesiak and Julian Cieniewski. Sadly, the record notes that baby Marian was born alive and was baptized with water, but died the same day.

Once Władysław gives me his parents’ address, I will be eager to visit the home of Józef and Marianna (née Krawczyńska) Grzesiak, my great-great-grandparents. They’re a couple shrouded in mystery for me, for reasons already described. It’s speculation, but I’ve often wondered if Marianna might have suffered from some mental illness. In an era when mental illness were poorly understood, it was not uncommon for families to distance themselves from their afflicted loved ones, even going so far as to tell the younger generations that their elder relative was already deceased. It’s difficult to understand precisely why Marianna’s death record from 1904 states that she was a pauper, living in Zagórów, the village of her birth, yet survived by her husband, Józef. Why would she have been a pauper, since she had a husband and at least one adult daughter living in Warsaw, who might presumably be able to care for her? A visit to 1899 won’t tell me where and when Józef will eventually die, and his death record has not yet been discovered. Still, I will enjoy the chance to get to know them a bit, and also to discover whether the unique pierogi recipe handed down in my family—filled with a combination of sauerkraut, potatoes, and onions—originated with Marianna, or was an invention of her daughter Weronika. 

When my visit with the Grzesiaks has ended, I’ll head back to Buffalo, to 44 Lathrop Street to visit Weronika Grzesiak’s future husband and my great-grandfather, Jan/John Zażycki. John is a 33-year-old molder in a factory, who has been living in the U.S. for 4 years and has already declared his intention to become a U.S. citizen. I wonder if he and Veronica have met yet? While I know something of Jan’s paternal ancestry, his mother, Antonina (née Naciążek) Zarzycka, has been a stumbling block for me. Maybe he can tell me where she was born, and where his parents were married. Maybe he can tell me something about her siblings and parents. Was he really the only one of the 11 children in his family who immigrated to America, as present data suggest? What prompted that move?

Antonina herself was still alive in 1899, so when I’ve finished my interview with John, I’ll return to Poland (imaginary travel is cheap, after all!) and make my way to the small village of Bronisławy, about 43 miles west of Warsaw. There I’ll find Antonina and her husband, Ignacy Zarzycki. Ignacy is a 71-year-old peasant farmer who owns his own land—a gospodarz, in Polish. His wife is about the same age, and they are the parents of 11 children, although they have already buried four of them, including a son, Roman, who died 8 years ago at the age of 19. Ironically, their son John will also have a son named Roman who will die an untimely death at the age of 23, but they don’t know this yet. I’m sure they’ll be eager for information about John, and how he’s faring in America. I’ll be equally eager for information on the whereabouts of their son, Tomasz, for whom I’ve not yet been able to locate a marriage or death record. Given the difficulty with obtaining records from parishes in this area, it’s likely that he married and settled in another nearby parish, but which one? 

Mostly, however, I’ll want to hear Antonina’s story. Is my current hypothesis correct, that  her parents were Mateusz Naciążęk and Petronella Trawińska? Who were her siblings? It will be fascinating to meet this woman whose origins have been such a mystery to me, my most recent ancestor about whom so little is known. Antonina won’t be able to tell me where she will die, of course, but I will be sure to ascertain the whereabouts of all of her living, adult children, since she may go to live with one of them when her husband Ignacy passes away in two years’ time. I have evidence that two of her children, Leonard and Karol, moved to Warsaw, while two daughters, Aniela Gruberska and Marianna Gruberska, were living in villages within the nearby parish of Młodzieszyn.  A third daughter, Ewa Klejn, was living in the vicinity of Sochaczew in 1880, but at the present time that’s all I know. 

My Maternal Grandfather’s Family

Having concluded my visits with my maternal grandmother’s family, I’ll book passage back to America to meet my maternal grandfather’s relatives. My journey will take me back to Buffalo once again—back to Clark Street, no less—where my great-great-grandparents, Andrzej/Andrew and Marianna/Mary (née Łącka) Klaus, are living at 43 Clark Street, less than a block away from the home of Veronica Grzesiak.

Figure 2: Wedding photo of Mary Łącka Klaus and her second husband, Władysław/Walter Olszanowicz, 21 November 1916, North Tonawanda, New York. Back Row, left to right: Apolonia/Pauline Klaus Sobuś (Mary’s daughter), holding her son, Edward Sobuś; Stanisław/Stanley Sobuś (Pauline’s husband); Anna Klaus Gworek (Mary’s daughter); Jacob Gworek (Anna’s husband); Genowefa/Genevieve Klaus Zielinska (Mary’s daughter, my great-grandmother).
Front Row, left to right: Julia Sobuś Ziomek (Cousin Jul, daughter of Pauline Klaus Sobuś); Unknown (most probably the groom’s marriage witness, Mary Jedrychanka); Walter Olszanowicz ; Mary Łącka Klaus; Joseph Zieliński (Genevieve’s husband, my great-grandfather); Marie Gworek Glitta (crouching on floor, Anna’s daughter); Helen Klaus (Mary’s daughter)null_00001

In 1899, Andrew is a 33-year-old day laborer and the father of three daughters, Anna, Pauline, and Genowefa/Genevieve (my great-grandmother, Figure 3). He and his 32-year-old wife Mary have already buried two children, a daughter named Zofia/Sophia, and a son named Bolesław. Andrew is also the step-father to Mary’s two sons, Joseph and John, who were born prior to their marriage. On this date in 1899, Mary is heavily pregnant with the couple’s sixth child, Edward, who will be born on September 11th. I know a great deal about both of their families, but there are still missing details.

Figure 3: Genevieve Klaus on her First Communion day, circa 1907.Genevieve Klaus 1st Communion circa 1907

I’ll want to ask Andrew what happened to his brother Michał, who disappears from the records in Poland. I’m also curious to know why he chose to move on to Buffalo, New York, instead of remaining in Plymouth, Pennsylvania, where his brother John Klaus was already living. I’ll be very interested to ask Mary what happened to her father, Jakub Łącki, and her brother, Józef/Joseph, who immigrated with her. Jakub disappears from the records completely after the passenger manifest documenting his arrival in New York in 1884. There’s a family story about a family member who died on the voyage, but it was supposed to be one of Mary’s and Andrew’s children. There’s no evidence that Mary and Andrew knew each other until he arrived in Buffalo circa 1890; could it be that the story got confused, and it was Mary’s father, Jakub, who died on the voyage? Evidence for Joseph Łącki after emigration is also scant. Where is he now? 

After planting a kiss on the forehead of the toddler who will be my great-grandmother, it’s time to return to Sochaczew County in the Russian Empire, this time for a visit to the village of Mistrzewice. Once in the village, I’m sure the locals will be able to direct me to the farm of Stanisław and Marianna (née Kalota) Zieliński, my great-great-grandparents. Stanisław is a 36-year-old farmer (gospodarz) whose father first moved to Mistrzewice from the nearby village of Bibiampol, just a few miles to the south. Marianna grew up in the village of Budy Stare, about five miles to the east. They are the parents of seven sons, although only five of them are currently living: 13-year-old Franciszek, 7-year-old Józef (my great-grandfather), 4-year-old Szczepan, 2-year-old Władysław, and baby Jan, who was just born in March.

Figure 3: Wedding photo of Joseph Zielinski and Genevieve Klaus, 6 October 1915. The best man, Franciszek/Frank Zielinski, seated on other side of the bride, and the woman seated on the other side of the groom is most likely the maid of honor, Josephine Urbaniak.Genevieve Klaus & Joseph Zielinski wedding party

I have a pretty good handle on the deeper ancestry of both Stanisław and Marianna, for at least a few generations. Due to the difficulty in accessing records, I don’t know the names of Marianna’s maternal great-grandparents, but then again, she may not know them, either. Mostly, I’ll enjoy this opportunity to get to know the two of them, observing their interactions with each other and with their children. There are no family stories whatsoever about what Stanisław was like, but the stories that have survived about Marianna, who will die in 1936, don’t paint a picture of a very kind woman. That said, Marianna will experience a great deal of loss in her life, as she will outlive her husband and nine of her ten children. But right now, that’s mostly in Marianna’s future. Perhaps now, in 1899, she is a more cheerful, hopeful woman—a younger wife and mother, still in the prime of her life.

I have one final stop to make before I leave the year 1899, to the village of Budy Stare, to meet Marianna’s father—my great-great-great-grandfather, Roch Kalota. In his prime, Roch was a farmer, but now he’s about 61, and I wonder if he’s starting to slow down and let his sons do more of the hard work around the farm. My understanding of Roch’s family is somewhat incomplete. I know that he married a 21-year-old widow, Agata (née Kurowska) Orlińska, in 1858, and that they had at least seven children together. There are a few gaps in the chronology of their children’s births, however, due to difficulty in accessing church records from their parish, so hopefully Roch can fill those in for me. Agata passed away in 1895, and most of his children are married and have children of their own. The youngest two (that I’m aware of), Katarzyna and Antoni, are still unmarried and living at home, and I’ll enjoy chatting with them as well.

That will wrap up my time-travel to the year 1899. All in all, this was a pretty enjoyable exercise, imagining the life of each of my ancestors in that particular year in their lives. Pondering what is known about each person also helps me to see how much is still unknown in each family’s story. In some cases, this information may yet be discovered without any time machines, so I don’t mean to suggest that every question raised here is necessarily a “brick wall.” It may be that the answers will be found easily, once I make time to do the research, or once I’m able to gain access to the records. So it’s probably time to get back to the present and start looking for the documents that will lead me to the answers I seek. 

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2019

 

Party Like It’s 1899!

It’s no secret that I’m a fan of leveraging social media for genealogy, and Facebook genealogy groups hold a special place in my heart. One group that is very informative, and also just plain fun, is the group “GAA (Genealogy Addicts Anonymous)” where Admin Claudia D’Souza recently posted the following question to the members of the group: “Imagine you wake up and you are in the year 1899! Who are you going to visit, & what are you going to find out?” I had quite a bit of fun thinking about that question, so here’s my game plan for my hypothetical time travel to July 24th, 1899. I’ve also created an interactive map of the places I’ll be visiting on my journey.

My Paternal Grandfather’s Family

I’ll begin my travels in my hometown of Buffalo, New York, where I’ll visit the home of Charles and Nellie DeVere at 1567 Niagara Street. I’ll want to meet Nellie’s mom, 81-year-old Elizabeth (née Hodgkinson) Walsh, who was living with Charles and Nellie per the 1900 census. Elizabeth, whose photos appears in Figure 1, is my 3x-great-grandmother, so I’ll be anxious to see if she can tell me where in Ireland her late husband Robert Walsh was from and what his parents’ names were. While I’m interviewing her, I’ll be sure to ask about her mother’s maiden name as well, since Elizabeth’s mother is known to family historians only as Christiana Hodgkinson. There are rumors that she may have been a Laraway, but this is still unproven. Anything else that she can tell me about Christiana’s family—where they came from, her parents’ and siblings’ names—will be a bonus, since she’s nearly a complete mystery to me.

Elizabeth was 14 years old when her grandfather, John Hodgkinson, died, so she probably knew him and may be able to tell me something about his family. I know that John Hodgkinson was a United Empire Loyalist who served in Butler’s Rangers during the American Revolution. He married his second wife—my 5x-great-grandmother, Sarah Spencer—after the death of his first wife, Mary Moore, but the timeline is not clear to me. What year did Mary die, and what year did he marry Sarah? Were there other children from his first marriage besides Samuel Hodgkinson, who was baptized in Schaghticoke, New York in 1776? I wonder if his marriage to Sarah a happy one, or merely a marriage of convenience, since young Samuel needed a mother, and since John was already acquainted with Sarah’s family, having served with her father, Robert Spencer, in Butler’s Rangers.

After my delightful visit with Elizabeth Walsh, I’ll take the street car that runs down Niagara Street to travel about 2.5 miles north to 73 Evelyn Street in Buffalo, the home of my 2x-great-grandparents, Henry and Martha (née Dodds) Walsh, to meet them and their children, including 16-year-old Katherine Elizabeth Walsh, who will be my great-grandmother.

Figure 1: Four generations of the Walsh family. Image retouched by Jordan Sakal. On the far left, Elizabeth (née Hodgkinson) Walsh (1818-1907). On the far right, her son Henry Walsh (1847-1907). Next to Henry is his oldest daughter, Marion (née Walsh) Frank (1878-1954), and next to her is her daughter, Alice Marion Frank.

walsh-4-generation-photo

In 1899, Henry is a 52-year-old teamster who has been living in Buffalo for the past 12 years, having moved his family there from St. Catharines, Ontario, in 1887. He and Martha are the parents of 9 children, including baby Gladys Mildred Walsh, who was just born in April. I’m sure they’ll also want to tell me about their first grandchild, Alice Marion Frank, who was born in March of 1899 to their oldest daughter, Marion, and her husband, George W. Frank. Martha Walsh is a busy 40-year-old mother and homemaker, so I’ll offer to help her in the kitchen while she tells me about her mother, Catherine Dodds, who died in 1872 when Martha was just 13. Can she tell me Catherine’s maiden name? Was it Grant, or Irving, since both of those names have been recorded, or something else? Was one of those names the name of a previous husband she may have had prior to her marriage to Robert Dodds? What can she tell me about Catherine’s parents? Were they Scottish immigrants to Glengarry, Ontario who arrived in the early 19th century, or was their Scotch ancestry more distant, originating with Scottish highlanders who settled first in upstate New York in the mid-18th century, only arriving in Canada after the Revolutionary War?

It may be that Martha is unable to answer my questions, so I’ll take a train to St. Catharines to pay a visit to her father, Robert Dodds, my 3x-great-grandfather. In 1899, Robert is living on Niagara Street with his daughter, Hannah Carty, and her husband James. In addition to asking him about his late wife, I’ll be eager to ask him about his own family history. Where in England was he born, exactly? Documentary and DNA evidence suggest the region around Northumberland and Durham, but solid evidence has been slim. When did he come to Canada? How and where did he meet his wife Catherine, and where and when did they marry? Who were his parents? Did he have siblings, and did any of them come to Canada, or did they remain in England? When my visit with Robert is finished, I’ll head back to Buffalo to meet my great-great-grandparents, Michael Frank (generally known by this time as Frank Michael) Roberts and Mary Elizabeth (née Wagner) Roberts and their family (Figure 2).

Figure 2: Frank M. Roberts (1858–1930) and Mary E. (née Wagner) Roberts (1860–1946) with their four sons, unknown date. From left to right, John Frank Roberts, Frank M. Roberts, George A. Roberts, Mary E. Roberts, Harry Michael Roberts, Bert Fred Roberts.Roberts family portrait

In 1899, Frank Roberts was a 41-year-old architect, artist, and the father of four sons, living at 439 Vermont Street. According to a biography published in the Buffalo Artists’ Directory in 1926, Frank trained under Gordon Lloyd, an architect of some prominence in the Detroit area where Frank was born. He and his wife, Mary Elizabeth Wagner, were the children of immigrants from Germany and Alsace, and I know a fair amount about their family histories, with the exception of Frank’s mother’s ancestry. Frank’s mother was Mary Magdalena (née Causin, Casin or Curzon) Roberts, and she remains a mystery to me. She was born in Buffalo, New York circa 1832 to parents who were most likely Alsatian, but their names were not recorded on her marriage or death records, nor have I been able to find a promising match for a baptismal record in the records from St. Louis Church, which was the only Roman Catholic parish in Buffalo at that time. So I’ll be eager to ask Frank all about her. Did she have siblings? What prompted her move to Detroit, where she was married in 1857? Were her parents already deceased by that point? How did she meet her husband, Michael Ruppert or Roberts, a German immigrant from Heßloch in the Alzey-Worms district of the Rhineland-Palatinate?

When my interview with Frank is finished, I’ll have more questions for Mary Roberts, my 2x-great-grandmother, and 16-year-old John, who will be my great-grandfather. I’m curious about Mary’s maternal grandparents, Peter and Elizabeth Grentzinger, who immigrated to Detroit from the village of Steinsoultz in the Haut-Rhin department of Alsace. Where and when did Peter die? There is evidence that Elizabeth Grentzinger remarried Henry Diegel after Peter’s death, but curiously, her grave marker states only that she was the wife of Peter Grentzinger, never mentioning the second husband who paid for the grave. If Mary seems open to discussing it, I may delicately inquire as to whether her mother, Catherine (née Grentzinger) Wagner, ever spoke of her first husband, Victor Dellinger or Dalmgher. Catherine and Victor had two children, John and Elizabeth, born circa 1847 and 1849, who must have died along with their father before Catherine’s second marriage to Henry Wagner in 1855. I’ll finish my time in the Roberts home by asking young John if he happens to know a nice girl named Katherine Walsh from Evelyn Street. I think she might be just his type.

Although Frank Roberts’s parents are both deceased by 1899, Mary’s father, Carl Heinrich (“Henry”) Wagner, is still living in Detroit with her brother, John, and his family at 270 Beaubien Street. I’ll take a train to Detroit to visit him next. Since I already know quite a bit about his ancestry, what I’ll want to learn from 3x-great-Grandpa Henry is what it was like to come to the U.S. as a young man of 24 in 1853. What was it like, growing up in the small German village of Roßdorf? What were his parents like as individuals? How about his late wife, Catherine? After our chat is finished, I’ll head back to Buffalo to visit my paternal grandmother’s family, starting with the family of my great-great-grandparents, Wenzeslaus and Anna (née Goetz or Götz) Meier.

My Paternal Grandmother’s Family

In 1899, Wenzel and Anna Meier are living in a two-family home at 225 Mills Street with their three daughters, 4-year-old Anna (who will be my great-grandmother), 2-year-old Julia, and baby Marie, who was just born in May. They don’t know it yet but they will eventually add 10 more children to their family. Wenzel is a 28-year-old German immigrant from the village of Obertrübenbach in Bavaria, who has been living in Buffalo for nine years and works as a butcher. His parents are still alive in Germany, so I’ll ask how they’re doing, and if he’s had any recent correspondence with them. I’ll also ask about his siblings back in Germany—Anna Maria, Franz Xavier, and Eduard—whose fates are unknown to me. Wenzel’s wife, 22-year-old Anna, is busy with the children, but her parents, Carl and Julianna (née Baeumler or Bäumler) Goetz, occupy the second home in the dwelling, so I seek them out.

Figure 3: Three generations of the Baeumler/Goetz/Meier family circa 1903. Image retouched by Lesley Utley. Front row, left to right, Julianna (née Bäumler) Götz (1838-1905); her grandchildren, Anna Meier, Julia Meier, Marie Meier, and Frances Meier; her husband, Carl Götz (1853-1933). Back row, Wenzeslaus Meier (1871-1942) and Anna (née Götz) Meier (1877-1949), holding baby Margaret Meier.Meier 3 generation portrait retouched

Carl Goetz is a 46-year-old German immigrant from the village of Leuchtenberg in Bavaria. He and his wife, 62-year-old Margaretha Juliane (known as Julianna or Julia), came to Buffalo in 1883, following in the footsteps of Julianna’s son, John Baeumler, who was already settled here. John’s birth record states that he was illegitimate, born to the unmarried Julianna Baeumler, but it’s interesting to note that after his birth, Julianna married her first husband, Johann Gottfried Baeumler, who happened to share a surname with her. Johann Gottfried was a 64-year-old widower when he married 27-year-old Julianna in 1864 in the village of Plößberg in Bavaria. Were they distant relatives? And was Johann the father of John Baeumler? Johann and Julianna had been married for just three years when he died in 1867. Julianna lived as a widow, raising her son alone, until her marriage to Carl in 1875, when she was 38 and he was 22. In an era and culture in which marriages were contracted for more practical reasons than romantic love, such marriages as Julianna’s may not be unusual, and for that matter, it may be true that their marriage was a love match. But I will be interested to observe the dynamic between Carl and Julianna. I hope they have found some measure of happiness and contentment together.

The last family to visit on my Dad’s side will be the family of my great-grandfather, John Sigismund Boehringer. In 1899, Anna (née Murre or Muri) Boehringer is a 33-year-old widow and mother of four children, living at 555 Sherman Street in Buffalo. Her oldest son, Edward, is just 13, and the youngest, John—who will be my great-grandfather—is seven. John was not quite three years old when his father, John G. Boehringer, passed away in November 1894. Anna works as a tailor, but it’s been difficult to provide for her family. John will always remember days in his childhood when they were so hungry that they trapped and ate sparrows for food. I’ve made some headway with researching John G. Boehringer’s family—I know, for example, that he was born in Buffalo in 1861 to Jacob and Catherine (née Rogg or Rock) Boehringer, German immigrants from the region around Lenzkirch in the Black Forest—so I’m confident that further progress simply requires time and effort. However, research into Anna Boehringer’s family has been more difficult.

Figure 4: John G. and Anna (née Murre) Boehringer on their wedding day, 29 April 1885, Buffalo, New York.John G Boehringer and Anna Murre wedding

Anna Murre was born in Bavaria in 1865, the second child of Joseph and Walburga (née Maurer) Murre. She immigrated to Buffalo with her parents and two siblings in 1869, but so far U.S. records, including church records, have offered no evidence of specific place of origin. Where was she born, and what can she tell me about her parents and grandparents?

Having finished with my paternal side of the family, I’ll visit my maternal relatives in my next post.  Stay tuned!

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2019

Mapping Birthplaces of Irish Immigrants to St. Catharines

Lately I’ve been writing quite a bit about my attempts to find the place of origin for my great-great-great grandfather, Robert Walsh/Welsh/Welch who was born somewhere in Ireland between 1808-1816 and who immigrated to St. Catharines, Upper Canada some time before his marriage to Elizabeth Hodgkinson circa 1843. Lacking any evidence for specific place of origin in records pertaining directly to Robert Walsh or his documented close relatives (possibly siblings), Thomas Walsh and Bridget Maria Walsh, I examined records pertaining to their FANs (Friends, Associates and Neighbors), a technique known as cluster research. Focusing specifically on marriage witnesses and godparents that Robert and Elizabeth Walsh chose for their children, I identified a number of places in Ireland where the Walsh FANs were from, as discussed in a recent post. Unfortunately, there was no geographic trend indicated by these places. They included County Limerick, County Sligo, County Clare, and County Tyrone, which suggests that the connections between the Walshes and these individuals were forged post-immigration rather than pre-immigration.

Since the Walshes’ FANs gave me no great clues, I decided to broaden the circle by another level, and see if there were any trends that could be observed by examining all the marriage records which mention a Walsh bride or groom or a Walsh mother of the bride or mother of the groom. As noted previously, the earliest available records are found in the collection Baptisms, marriages 1852–1860, and I focused on these primarily since the marriage records from this book typically mention the specific place of origin of the bride and groom. This is in contrast to the later book of Marriages, 1858–1910 in which only the immigrant’s country of origin was typically specified, although there was a span of years (images 12–16, with a few additional entries on images 10, 20, 23 and 27) when some thoughtful priest recorded the county of origin for Irish immigrants as well. I did not observe any examples of baptismal records where the place of origin of immigrant parents was noted. In the interest of time, I did not include the data regarding county of origin when it was mentioned in the collection Marriages, 1858–1910. Instead, I focused only on the earliest records.

Admittedly, this strategy is not ideal due to the popularity of the Walsh surname, nor was it especially helpful. I discovered the following:

  • There were four Walsh brides. One was from Cahersiveen, County Kerry; one was from Askeaton, County Limerick; one was from County Cork, no specific village or parish indicated, and one was from someplace whose name cannot be accurately determined because it ran into the margin of the book.
  • There were no Walsh grooms.
  • There were two brides with a mother who was a Walsh. They were from Westport, County Mayo, and “Myrish” (probably Moyrus), County Galway.
  • There were five grooms with a mother who was a Walsh. They were from Westport, County Mayo; Ballyguran, County Waterford; Bohola, County Mayo; Ballymartin, County Cork; and one additional place that could not be deciphered, in County Tipperary.

Again, there were no obvious geographic trends, nor were there any clues in those other Walsh marriage records that might suggest that any of them were related to my Walsh family.

Since I was already in the business of working with the data from these church records from the cathedral of St. Catherine of Alexandria, I decided to try one last strategy. I created a map of all the places of origin in Ireland mentioned in those marriage records, dated from 1852–1857.

The Method Behind the Madness

The map can be accessed by clicking here. Each pin on the map is a unique place of origin mentioned in the records from St. Catharines. However, in some cases, there were multiple immigrants from the same location. Clicking on a pin on the map will produce the name of the immigrant(s) who were from that location, along with a link to the page of church records where the source marriage record can be found.  Although the basic idea is pretty simple, there are a few points to be made about the actual implementation.

  1. Although the vast majority of individuals mentioned in these marriage records were Irish immigrants, there were some natives of Canada West, New York, Quebec, Scotland, England, Holland, and Prussia in the mix. Since my focus was on identifying places of origin in Ireland, I ignored any other places that were mentioned.
  2. Since data were extracted from a Roman Catholic church book, most individuals named were Roman Catholic. However, in a few cases mixed (interfaith) marriages were noted so one should check the source to see if a person of interest might have been Protestant.
  3. Original spellings were preserved to the extent that I could read them. Some names like Crownan and Cronnin/Cronin may have common origins or may even be the same family.
  4. In cases where the name of the bride or groom was recorded differently in the page margin than in the marriage record itself, the name used in the record was the name used on the map.
  5. Places mentioned in the records vary in degree of precision, ranging from a village, or civil parish to a townland or county. If a more precise place of origin was indicated, it was usually reported along with the county name, which helped in distinguishing between places with the same name (e.g. Newport, County Mayo and Newport, County Tipperary). Place names were rendered phonetically, so spellings used were frequently incorrect. In many cases it was possible to guess which place was meant, e.g. “Iniscarthy,” County Wexford, is almost certainly meant to be Enniscorthy, County Wexford; “Cloonmile” in County Tipperary is likely to be Clonmel, “Dunbeck,” County Clare is probably Doonbeg, etc. In a few cases I could not find a good phonetic match for the place name, due in part to illegible handwriting. In those instances, only the county was recorded.

The Results

Places of origin for a total of 267 immigrants were mapped. These immigrants represented all 32 counties in Ireland, with a small majority (45 immigrants, or 16.8% of the total) coming from places within County Mayo. Additional data are summarized in Figure 1, below.

Figure 1: Number and percent of immigrants from each Irish county who were mentioned in the marriage records dated between 1852–1857 from St. Catherine of Alexandria parish, St. Catharines, Ontario. Percentages do not add up to exactly 100% due to rounding.

Irish immigrants data

One wonders how these numbers compare with the population of each Irish county circa 1841, when the Walshes may have emigrated. Was the emigration proportional to the population, or was there disproportionate emigration from particular counties? According to statistics found on Wikipedia, the top five Irish counties ranked in order of population in 1841 were Cork, Galway, Tipperary, Mayo, and Dublin.1 In contrast, the top five Irish counties reported as birthplaces of immigrants to St. Catharines were Mayo, Cork, Tipperary, Clare, and Kerry, and this difference may reflect the impact of chain migration. Perhaps these data will help me prioritize my searches for my Walsh/Cavanagh family among the almost 200 parishes where both of these surnames are known to exist. Unfortunately, there have been no easy answers, but if genealogy were always easy, our successes would be much less satisfying.

Sources:

1 “Irish Population Analysis,” Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org : 29 June 2019).

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2019

Farewell to Texas

So often, what we find in our genealogical search process depends on what we’re looking for. We all come in with some preconceived notions about our ancestors based on oral family history, and although those stories often contain a kernel of truth, it’s embedded within a distorted narrative. Sometimes those narratives are quite compelling, and it’s hard to let them go, but it’s necessary to do that in order to examine our ancestors’ stories objectively and ask the right questions that will lead us to the truth.

For quite a while now, I’ve been wrestling (albeit intermittently) with the question of where and when Joseph and John Klaus were born. They were the oldest brothers of my great-grandmother, Genowefa/Genevieve (née Klaus) Zielinski. There’s a captivating story that they were born in Texas while their parents, Andrzej/Andrew and Marianna/Marya/Mary (née Łącka) Klaus lived there for a while circa 1890 before moving to St. Louis, Missouri, and then on to Buffalo and finally North Tonawanda, New York. I’ve written about this research previously (most recently here), and about the problematic timeline for their proposed birth events in Texas. To quickly summarize the evidence regarding date and place of birth for each of them, the 1900 census states that Joseph was born March 1891 in New York, and John was born June 1892 in New York.1 However, that same census also states that their sisters Anna and Pauline were born in New York, although birth and baptismal records for Anna and Pauline confirm that they were born in St. Louis, consistent with the family story.2 Joseph’s World War I draft registration states that he was born 17 February 1886—however, Andrew Klaus did not immigrate to the U.S. until 1889.3 Joseph’s marriage record suggests a birth year of 1887, and his death certificate states that he was born 25 February 1886 in Buffalo.4

John died at the age of 15, leaving only a very brief paper trail. In addition to the 1900 census, he was mentioned in a newspaper article about his arrest for stealing coal, dated 27 January 1905 .5 He was reported to be age 15 at that time, suggesting a date of birth circa 1889. John died of tubercular meningitis on 18 June 1905 at the age of 15 years, 8 months, 3 days, suggesting a date of birth of 15 October 1889.6 According to his death certificate, he was born in New York.

So all the evidence pointed to a birthplace in New York for both Joseph and John, but their birth records remained elusive, and I was still somehow hoping that I’d find them in Texas. I’d checked all the ethnic Polish Roman Catholic parishes in Buffalo that were in existence at the time of their births (St. Stanislaus, St. Adalbert, and Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary) and had not found their baptismal records. Since Andrew Klaus and Mary Łącka did not marry until 21 January 1891 in Buffalo, it seemed likely that Joseph and John were both born out of wedlock, or that Mary was married previously. However, I could find no evidence for a prior marriage for Mary in the records from St. Stanislaus, the parish to which she belonged when she married Andrew Klaus.

Yet sometimes I amaze myself with my own stupidity.

There I was, standing at the kitchen sink the other night, washing up the dinner dishes, not thinking about anything in particular, when suddenly it hit me. Despite the fact that I knew that one or both of the oldest Klaus boys was likely to have been born out of wedlock, what name did I search for when I checked the baptismal index for St. Stanislaus? Klaus! (Stupid, right? Gah!) Somehow, despite obvious evidence to the contrary, I was assuming a scenario in which Andrew was still the father of Joseph and John, even if they were born prior to his marriage to Mary. Immediately I ran to my computer to check the baptismal index for Józef Łącki, and lo, and behold—there he was (Figure 1)!

Figure 1: Baptismal record from St. Stanislaus Church for Józef Łącki, born 25 February 1888.7Joseph Łącki birth 1888 cropped

He was there all along, right where he was supposed to be. Born 25 February 1888 in Buffalo, consistent with existing evidence for his date of birth, Joseph was baptized the following day and was noted to be the illegitimate son of Maryanna Łącka of Kołaczyce, Galitia [sic]. Godparents were Mikołaj Kołodziej and Marya Graca. Done and dusted.

So now I’ve found Joseph, but where’s John? A search of the baptismal index for Łącki births failed to turn up any additional children born to Mary Łącka, and the marriage index did not indicate any other marriages for her besides the one to Andrzej Klaus in 1891. Could John have been baptized in another parish—maybe in Texas? There’s got to be some truth to that family story, right? Cousin Jul accurately reported the family’s sojourn in St. Louis, so why would the tale about Texas be untrue?

I decided to go through the all the baptisms from St. Stanislaus in 1889 individually, and that’s when I found John Klaus—more or less (Figure 2).

Figure 2: Baptismal record from St. Stanislaus parish for Jan Konieczny, born 10 October 1889.8 Jan Klaus 1889 crop

According to this record, Jan Konieczny was born 10 October 1889 and baptized the same day. He was the son of Maryanna Łącka of Kołaczyce, Galicia—unmistakably the right mother. But his father was noted to be Jan Konieczny of “Brzyski, Gal.” This suggests the present-day village of Brzyska in Jasło County, which is just a little over 2 miles from Kołaczyce. The date of birth and mother’s name mean this has got to be our John Klaus, but there’s no marriage record for Jan Konieczny and Mary Łącka in the records of St. Stanislaus. There is, however, a marriage record for Jan Konieczny and Karolina Nyc, who married at St. Stan’s on 2 September 1889, a month before this child’s birth (Figure 3).

Figure 3: Marriage record from St. Stanislaus parish for Jan Konieczny and Karolina Nyc, 2 September 1889.9Jan Konieczny marriage 1889

According to the marriage record, Jan Konieczny married Karolina Nyc on 2 September 1889. He was the son of Maciej Konieczny and Katarzyna, whose maiden name was not specified, and he was born in “Brzesko, Gal.” Brzesko is a village in Galicia located approximately 43 miles east of the village of Brzyski mentioned in the baptismal record. Karolina Nyc was another native of Galicia, born in the village of Brzeźnica to Bartłomiej Nyc and Maria Polniaszek. There were three unique places in Galicia called Brzeźnica, so further research would be needed to determine in which one of these villages Karolina was born.

So what’s going on here? Are there two different men named Jan Konieczny, one from Brzyski who married to Mary Łącka and was the father of her child, Jan, as suggested by the birth record, and a second Jan Konieczny from Brzesko who was the husband of Karolina Nyc? A survey of indexed records from Ancestry and FamilySearch does not support the hypothesis that there were two different men named Jan/John Konieczny, both from Galicia/Austrian Poland and living in Buffalo concurrently. Moreover, the difference between the two records in the spelling of Jan’s place of origin, Brzesko vs. Brzyski, is a minor discrepancy of a sort that’s common in the records from St. Stanislaus. In fact, in baptismal records for the children of Andrew and Mary Klaus, Andrew’s place of origin was recorded as Maniówo, Maniewo, Szczeciny, and Monowice, when in fact he was born in Maniów in gmina Szczucin.10

If we believe, then, that Jan Konieczny, the father of Mary Łącka’s child, is the same Jan Konieczny who married Karolina Nyc just a month earlier, what are the implications of that? The birth record does not explicitly state that the child, Jan Konieczny, was born from the legitimate marriage of Jan Konieczny and Mary Łącka, it only states that Jan was the father. It would be unusual, but not unheard of, for a father to acknowledge such a child born out of wedlock. In such cases there is sometimes a notation on the baptismal record, “pater naturalis,” or “natural father,” but this record includes no such notation.

Could it be that the father’s given name was recorded incorrectly? This seems more plausible. The evenness and consistency of the handwriting throughout these images suggests that these records may have been recopied at some point prior to microfilming by the Latter-Day Saints. If originals are available at the diocesan archive in Buffalo, and if access to these records could be obtained, they might contain some answers. So if we suppose that Mary Łącka was married previously to another man named Konieczny, who was he, and where is their marriage record? It seems like it should be at St. Stan’s, since that was the parish in which Mary was living when she gave birth to her oldest sons Joseph and John in 1888 and 1889, respectively, and also the parish in which she was living when she married Andrew Klaus in 1891. Yet the only record of marriage for a woman with the surname Łącka or Łączka between 1874-1894 in St. Stanislaus parish (as determined by searching Kasia Dane’s online index of marriage records from St. Stan’s) is the record for Mary and Andrew Klaus. Similarly, there are no Konieczny marriage records that suggest that the bride may have been Mary Łącka under a badly misspelled or mistranscribed surname. However, that index does reveal a connection between the Konieczny and Łącki families. On 30 June 1886, Maria Łącka and Jakób (or Jakub, in modern Polish) Konieczny were witnesses to the marriage of Jan Lewczyk and Katarzyna Węgrzyn (Figure 4).

Figure 4: Marriage record from St. Stanislaus parish for Jan Lewczyk and Katarzyna Węgrzyn, 30 June 1886.11Jan Lewczyk and Katarzyna Wegrzyn 1886

According to this record, the bride was also a native of Kołaczyce like Mary Łącka, although neither the surname Węgrzyn nor her mother’s maiden name, Ochałek, appears in my family tree. This suggests that Katarzyna and Mary may have been more distant cousins, or perhaps just old friends. More relevant to the question at hand, this record offers evidence of a Jakub Konieczny with whom Mary Łącka was at least acquainted as of June 1886. Could the birth record for Jan Konieczny have been recorded in error—should it have been Jakub Konieczny who was the father?

All of this is entirely speculative, since there’s not much evidence to go on, in absence of a marriage record for Mary Łącka to any man with the surname Konieczny. While there’s always the possibility that Mary eloped and married in a “Gretna Green” location (Erie, Pennsylvania seems to have been such a location for people in the Buffalo, New York area), elopement was far less likely for ethnic Poles. Babies might be born out of wedlock for a variety of reasons, and I have no interest in speculating on the circumstances of their conception or pronouncing moral judgments on my ancestors. Nonetheless, the fact that those babies were always baptized within a few days of birth is a testament to the importance of the Catholic faith in the family’s culture, so it’s extremely unlikely that Mary would have settled for a civil marriage outside of the church. Moreover, if Mary Łącka had been married prior to her marriage to Andrew Klaus, there should be not only a marriage record, but also a death record for her first husband dated some time between 1889 when Jan Konieczny/Klaus was conceived, and January 1891 when Mary married Andrew Klaus. However, searches of the Buffalo, New York death index from 1885–1891, as well as the New York State death indexes from 1889, 1890 and 1891, did not reveal any Konieczny deaths.

Of course, not every immigrant who came to the U.S. remained here. Many worked for a few years and then took their savings back to the Old Country with them. Could it be that Jakub fathered a child with Mary and then returned to Poland? A search of indexed records at FamilySearch and Ancestry does not offer evidence for a Jakub/Jacob/James Konieczny from Galicia/Austrian Poland who was already in Buffalo by 1890. Church records were also examined to determine the given names of all the Konieczny men mentioned in them. Both marriage records from 1874–1894, and baptismal records from Volumes I, II and III, which cover the years from 1874–1895, were examined. Based on these, the following Konieczny men were identified:

  • Walenty (father of Anna, 17 July 1890, and Zofia, 16 April 1893)
  • Wojciech (father of Andrzej, born 26 November 1882; Anastazja, born 6 April 1889, and Józefa, born 17 August 1887)
  • Szczepan (father of Helena, born 5 May 1880, and Franciszek, born 4 October 1881)
  • Jan (father of Władysław, born 24 December 1890; Marya, born 21 January 1893, and Stanisław, born 24 August 1895). According to marriage records, Jan was the brother of 
  • Andrzej (father of Anna, born 5 December 1893, and Honorata, born 4 October 1895).

There’s no further mention of Jakub Konieczny in these church records after the marriage of Jan Lewczyk and Katarzyna Węgrzyn in 1886, suggesting that he may have moved back to Poland or relocated within the U.S.

Ultimately, we may never know who the father of Jan Klaus really was. As so often happens with genealogy, each new answer creates additional questions. Despite these uncertainties, I’m convinced that the Jan Konieczny, who was born in Buffalo, New York on 10 October 1889 and baptized the same day at St. Stanislaus parish, son of Marya Łącka and “Jan Konieczny,” was, in fact, the same child who grew up with Andrew Klaus as his foster father, and was later known as John Klaus. John Klaus, my great-granduncle—or half great-granduncle, as appears now to be the case, wasn’t born in Texas after all, nor was his oldest brother (or half-brother), Joseph. So why the elaborate story about the family living in Texas? Maybe it was intended to be an amusing tall tale that was misunderstood as the truth by Mary Klaus’s grandchildren. If nothing else, I’ve learned another lesson in examining my assumptions as I research. Farewell, Texas. You were never part of my family history after all.

Sources:

1 “United States Census, 1900,” Buffalo Ward 11, Erie, New York, Enumeration District 84, Sheet 28A, line 41, Andro Klano [sic] household, accessed as digital images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org : 17 June 2019), New York > Erie > ED 84 Election District 3 Buffalo city Ward 11 > image 55 of 59; citing NARA microfilm publication T623 (Washington, D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, n.d.).

Roman Catholic Church, St. Stanislaus Kostka Parish (St. Louis, Missouri, USA), Baptismal Records, January 1, 1888–May 5, 1895, 1892, no. 127, record for Anna Klaus, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1880-1993,” FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org : 19 June 2019), Film 1872178/DGS 7856319 > Item 4, Baptisms > image 283 of 1149; and 

Roman Catholic Church, St. Stanislaus Kostka Parish (St. Louis, Missouri, USA), Baptismal Records, January 1, 1888–May 5, 1895, 1894, no. 2, record for Apolonia Klaus, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1880-1993,” FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org : 19 June 2019), Film 1872178/DGS 7856319 > Item 4, Baptisms > image 301 of 1149.

3 “United States World War I Draft Registration Cards, 1917-1918,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://www.familysearch.org : 19 June 2019), Joseph J Claus, 1917-1918; citing Chautauqua County no 1, New York, United States, NARA microfilm publication M1509 (Washington D.C.: National Archives and Records Administration, n.d.); FHL microfilm 1,712,292; and

Staatsarchiv Hamburg, “Hamburg Passenger Lists, 1850-1934” (database with images), record for Andrzey KlausAncestry (https://www.ancestry.com : 19 June 2019), Staatsarchiv Hamburg; Hamburg, Deutschland; Hamburger Passagierlisten; Volume: 373-7 I, VIII B 1 Band 077; Page: 361; Microfilm No.: S_13155.

4 Dunkirk, Chautauqua, New York, marriage certificate no. 431 (1910), Joseph Klaus and Mary Brzuszkiewicz; Dunkirk City Clerk’s Office, 342 Central Avenue, Dunkirk, New York; and

Dunkirk, Chautauqua, New York, death certificate no. 130 (1918), Joseph Claus, 7 October 1918; Dunkirk City Clerk’s Office, 342 Central Avenue,
Dunkirk, New York.

“Coal Thieves Were Fined,” The Evening News (North Tonawanda, New York), 27 January 1905, p. 1, Old Fulton New York Post Cards (https://fultonhistory.com. : 4 August 2017).

North Tonawanda, Niagara, New York, death certificates no. 2016 (1905), John Klaus, 18 June 1905; North Tonawanda City Clerk’s Office, 216 Payne Avenue, North Tonawanda, New York.

7 Roman Catholic Church, St. Stanislaus parish (Buffalo, Erie, New York, USA), baptismal register II, 1883-1890, p. 368, no. 137, record for Józef Łącki, born 25 February 1888 accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1873-1917,” FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org : 19 June 2019) Baptisms 1874-1903 > image 502 out of 1979.

8 Roman Catholic Church, St. Stanislaus parish (Buffalo, Erie, New York, USA), baptismal register II, 1883-1890, p. 532, no. 702, record for Jan Konieczny, born 10 October 1889, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1873-1917,” FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org : 19 June 2019) Baptisms 1874-1903 > image 584 of 1979.

9 Roman Catholic Church, St. Stanislaus parish (Buffalo, Erie, New York, USA), Matr. 1873–1891, p. 154, no. 88, marriage record for Jan Konieczny and Karolina Nyc, 2 September 1889, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1873-1917,” FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org : 19 June 2019), image 1385 of 1979.

10 Roman Catholic Church, St. Stanislaus parish (Buffalo, Erie, New York, USA), baptismal register III, 1890-1895, p. 640, no. 757, record for Bolesław Klaus, born 24 October 1895, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1873-1917,” FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org : 19 June 2019) image 502 out of 1979; and 

Roman Catholic Church, St. Stanislaus parish (Buffalo, Erie, New York, USA), baptismal register IV, 1895-1903, p. 196, no. 620, record for Genowefa Klaus, born 28 September 1897, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1873-1917,” FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org : 19 June 2019) image 1074 out of 1979; and 

Ibid., p. 352, no. 396, record for Edward Klaus, born 11 September 1899, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1873-1917,” FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org : 19 June 2019) image 1155 out of 1979; and 

Ibid., p. 426, no. 476, record for Władysław Klaus, born 10 October 1900, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1873-1917,” FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org : 19 June 2019) image 1194 out of 1979.

© Julie Roberts Szczepankiewicz 2019

 

 

 

11 Roman Catholic Church, St. Stanislaus parish (Buffalo, Erie, New York, USA), Matr. 1873–1891, p. 90, 1886, no. 64, marriage record for Jan Lewczyk and Katarzyna Węgrzyn, 30 June 1886, accessed as browsable images, “Church records, 1873-1917,” FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org : 19 June 2019) Marriages > image 1353 of 1979.