Funeral for a Bluestocking

Portrait of Rebecca “Robina” Napier
McRuer, 1833-1866

Rebecca “Robina” Napier McRuer was a Bangor bluestocking and socialite.  Intellectually active and politically aware, Robina recognized the social inequity affecting the lives of poor Irish immigrants in her home town. An abolitionist and Union patriot, she was equally aware of her own socially-defined place as a woman in Bangor’s upper class and mastered her role as a doctor’s daughter and potential wife. She did not marry until nearly 30 years of age and then to a man 18-years her senior.  Only three years later, in July 1866, Robina died from complications following childbirth. 

The daughter of Scottish immigrant Dr. Daniel McRuer and Mary Ann Wright, Robina was one of nine children. She graduated Bangor Girl’s High School around June 1851 and with her best friends Marion (May) Lunt, Celia Frances (Fanny) Dwinel, and Ada Josephine Hortense Pierce, according to the recollections of John Edwards Godfrey, Esq., passed a week as the guests of he and his wife, Elizabeth Angela Stackpole Godfrey at Cliff Cottage in Bangor. The week, described by Godfrey in his journal as “one of unqualified pleasure” made such an impression on the man that he recalled it 20 years later following the death of Ada [Pierce] Williamson in March 1872.

Aside from the occasional, brief mention of Miss R. McRuer entering floral arrangements in the Bangor Horticultural Society show, the woman’s name only once appeared prominently in the pages of the Bangor Whig & Courier when she was selected by her peers to present the men of Maine’s Second Civil War Regiment with a silk American flag sewn “by the ladies of Bangor.” In the company of Mayor Charles Stetson and Vice President Hannibal Hamlin, the formal presentation took place on Broadway as citizens of the region waved their sons off to war on Tuesday, May 14, 1861.

Maine’s Second Regiment including officers, soldiers, and military band
standing on a snow-covered field at Camp Jameson on the grounds of
Mt. Vernon, Virginia. Above the assembly waves the American flag—
very possibly, the same flag made by the ladies of Bangor and presented to
the Regiment prior to their departure from Bangor. Library of Congress Prints
and Photographs Division Washington, D.C. 20540 USA
LCCN 2009632246 LC-DIG-ppmsc-03307

From the porch of James Crosby’s home on Broadway, the Mayor introduced Robina to the men of Maine’s Second Regiment and the crowd. The speech she authored and spoke, was recorded in the Whig & Courier:

Soldiers of the Second Regiment—Colonel Jameson: On behalf of the ladies of Bangor, I present this flag: the pride of our nation, the guardian of its institutions, the symbol of its liberty. You are called upon to vindicate its insulted honor and re-establish its supremacy over the fortunes of a now divided people. From a distant part of our land, from those who should have been our friends and brothers, the sharp cry of disunion has risen; but the sole response echoed back by millions in an undivided and enthusiastic North has been—“Union.”

This flag has been consecrated by the women’s prayers to the defense of the Union, and to your honor and bravery it is now entrusted. It were easier to bear it against a foreign foe, alien in language and ignorant of the blessing of freedom; it were better that its sacred folds should be stained by a stranger’s than a brother’s blood, but let not this thought dishearten you.

Remember that you have that which alone can ennoble war—a noble cause—and go forward to battle for the right, secure of victory. Our hopes, our prayers are with you in your sacred work

               “Yes, let all good things away.

                Him who cares not to be great

                But as he saves or serves the State.”

Take then this ensign of the Free! Under its folds let no coward or traitor to his country lurk! Eager eyes will watch its progress amid the vicissitudes of war, and joyous hearts will exult when it leads you to glory and victory. —And when you return to the peace of your Northern homes, (God grant it may be soon,) bring back this flag and we will cherish it as a priceless memento of the bravery of the soldiers of Maine.

On August 1, 1861, following the shock of the Union’s loss at the First Battle of Bull Run and reports about the catastrophic number of casualties occurring on both sides, Robina penned the abolitionist poem, “Let Us Hear No More of Sending Back the Slave” published in both the New York Independent and The Liberator out of Boston. Though published anonymously, John Godfrey, with a father’s pride, attributes the work to Robina, transcribing the poem in his journal along with the comment that she was “too modest” to allow the work to be published locally. The poem, both eloquent and terse, takes politicians to task for the cretinously continued enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Act as Northern volunteers died in a war to preserve the Union. Even as she penned these words, Robina could not predict that little more than a week later, her own father would be called to serve as surgeon to Maine’s Second.

Let Us Hear No More of Sending Back the Slave

Stand up in the Capitol and proclaim
To wondering nations the fearful game

Which the soldiers play for us, North and South,

At the bayonet’s point and the cannon’s mouth—

Count up the stakes and reckon the chances;

Say, as each bristling column advances, —

                “So we contend against slavery,

                Lying and cheating and knavery” —

                                And then send back the slave.

North, East and West have poured out their treasures,

Doubled their tithes, and heaped up their measures—

Called to strong men, “Now arm for the fight,

Crush the proud traitor, and strike for the Right!”

Into the ranks slip young men and bold men—

Into the ranks step wise men and old men—

And the mothers kiss and caress them,

And the maidens cheer them and bless them,

                And you send back the slave.

 “Forward!” they march at the President’s call

Through Baltimore’s streets to the Capital.

“Forward!” where foes are entrenched in their might,

(Now God be with them, and favor the Right!)

And they see the hard battle before them,

And they think of the mothers who bore them,

                And the maidens’ cheers and flatteries—

                March up to the murderous batteries—

                                While you send back the slave.

Weary and thirsty, they strike for the Right—

New men, but true men, they gallantly fight;

Bravely resisting, they stand by their flags

Till their gay colors are torn into rags.

They are falling, the young men and bold men,

They are falling, the wise men and old men—

                And the cannon-ball leaps and whistles,

                And cuts down the shamrocks and thistles—

                                And you send back the slave.

Ay, weep for the soldiers who lie there dead,

And weep for the soldiers who turned and fled!

Send to the Northland, and gather a host,

Fill up the places of those you have lost.

Cry to the nations, “Come now and aid us

Crush out the wrong for which you upbraid us.”

                Then call upon God for assistance,

                For strength in your holy resistance—

                                And then you send back the slave.

My countrymen, can you not understand

‘Tis a “holy war,” which the Lord hath planned;

That Justice and Vengeance shall make you strong

When you throw in the scales the pond’rous wrong?

They have hated you, scorned you, scouted you,

And now from the field they have routed you,

                While you with clinging humility

                Kiss their soft hands in servility—

                                And you send back the slave.

Through reading Robina’s own words, one is able to gain a better perspective on Godfrey’s ardent pride in Robina as “no ordinary woman.” A year after her December 1863 marriage to New York merchant Gilbert Howell, Godfrey compared Robina favorably with his own wife, Angela, stating, “They both, when young, were of the independent rompish kind, such as most girls are who amount to anything.” 

Mary C. (McRuer) Clark (1828-1904),
Sarah “Sally” Russ (McRuer) Field (1824-1900), and
Rebecca “Robina” Napier (McRuer) Howell (1833-1866). 
From the collection of Richard R. Shaw.

Upon learning of Robina's death in July 1866, a clearly heart-broken Godfrey wrote, “Though of beautiful person, she possessed a superior mind. She had great versatility of talent, excellent judgement, great wit, a vast fund of humor, a big heart, a forgiving disposition, and exquisite taste. Take her all in all, I never saw her superior—in some points never her equal. She possessed remarkable conversational powers. She was passionately fond of the fine arts. Kept up her reading and her studies. A year ago, when I left her house in Brooklyn, she was talking French with a Frenchwoman, and it seemed to me that she was quite at home...Probably never has there been a happier wife than she. Her husband is a wealthy merchant, and toward her his conduct has been that of a lover, during her whole connection with him. No wish of hers was left ungratified ... Like a devoted wife she did all in her power to return his kindness.”

“It is with great grief to us all, her death. [Mrs. Godfrey] has done nothing but mourn since she heard of it. Dr. McRuer will be inconsolable. He thought there was no one to compare with her—and her husband will never get over it,” Godfrey wrote.

Grave marker of Robina McRuer Howell, Mount
Hope Cemetery, Bangor, Maine.
Author photo, 2016.

While Godfrey noted multiple local deaths in the first volume of his published journals, it is his report of Robina’s funeral, as well as that of his wife, Angela in May 1868 that gives a glimpse into the community’s mid-19th Century funerary practices. Robina’s body was returned to Maine from New York and laid out for the viewing at her father’s home on State Street on August 5, sixteen days following her death. Godfrey stated he would “not have known the person, had I seen the body elsewhere. It looked 10 years older than Robina,” though his wife assessed the face as natural in appearance.

As was fashionable during the Victorian-age, and likely due to Robina’s involvement in the Bangor Horticultural Society, the McRuer house “was filled with flowers,” Godfrey reported. “The attendance at the funeral was very large. Mr. [Rev. George W.] Field’s prayer at the house was eloquent.” As with Angela Godfrey two years later, Robina was likely dressed in a white silk or satin burial robe. Her hair would have been fashionably styled and her cheeks lightly rouged to relieve the pallor of death. Those assembled would have said prayers and heard the Reverend read from the scriptures.

Noting that Robina, “had a great many friends among the lowly,” Godfrey reported that a large number of people he believed to be the city’s poor Irish immigrants assembled along the perimeter of Dr. McRuer’s property. This group followed the funeral procession to Mount Hope Cemetery, where they continued to pay their respects while keeping at a distance from the Protestant funeral party.

Once the procession reached the cemetery, a second lengthier service was held graveside with an assembled choir. The casket would have been opened to accept offerings of flowers—both wreathes and bouquets—and religious items, such as Christian crosses—from friends and family.  “At the grave the services were very interesting,” Godfrey wrote. “The grave was lined with evergreens, as is the custom here, and all through these evergreens, the friends had woven white flowers and her last resting place was literally a bed of roses, and death in one sense had lost its victory.”

“The choir sang, “Unveil thy bosom faithful tomb,” and Rev. George W. Field made one of the most eloquent affecting and still consoling prayers I ever heard. People were standing and sitting about in all directions and many were the mourners for Mrs. Gilbert Howell.”

“Sic transit, the beauty, the glory, the excellence of the world. With good reason may her husband be inconsolable.”

Monument memorializing five of the nine children
born to Dr. Daniel McRuer and Mary Ann
Wright McRuer. Author photo, 2016.

Following her burial, Gilbert Howell employed the company of S. P. Bradbury to mark Robina’s grave with a white marble Victorian-pedestal monument topped with an urn and shroud and draped with carved garlands of ribbons and cabbage roses. The pedestal is edged with acanthus leaves. The stone is simply inscribed: “My dear wife. Robina N. McR. Howell.”  

Nearby, in the center of the double-lot, stands a large white marble monument featuring a fluted column that was erected by Dr. and Mrs. McRuer to memorialize five of their nine children: infants Walter and James and six-year-old Ellen as well as Robina and her sister Lucretia, who experienced brain damage in adulthood as the result of epileptic seizures. Godfrey described her as “a beautiful child, but her mind at the age of 26 was almost gone by reason of fits.”

Unlike so many of Bangor’s fashionable young women, Robina McRuer Howell’s public identity has been preserved in the published journals of John Edward Godfrey. Godfrey’s insight, supplemented by two examples of Robina’s own writing, gives the modern researcher a view to the person whose identity and relationships are also represented in the marble monument that marks her grave.

The urn and shroud topping the monument are traditional symbols of death. These are accompanied by the high-relief carving of cabbage rose garlands, representing Robina’s own love of flowers as well as her husband’s deep, passionate love for his youthful wife. Acanthus leaves surrounding the pedestal base represent the heavenly garden and eternal Christian afterlife. Knowing the woman’s life, reputation, and own words, provides the viewer a deeper understanding of the monument’s meaning to the survivors who accompanied her memory to her grave over 150 years ago.

Resources

Departure of the Second Regiment. (15 May 1861) Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, p. 3.

Died. (28 July 1866). Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, p. 3.

Died. (31 July 1866). Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, p. 3.

Godfrey, John Edwards. (1979). The Journals of John Edwards Godfrey: Bangor, Maine 1863-1869, Vol. 1. James B. Vickery, ed. Courier-Gazette, Inc.: Rockland, ME.

Kelly, Howard Atwood, & Walter Lincoln Burrage. (1920). American Medical Biographies. The Norman, Remington Company: Baltimore, MD.

McRuer, Robina. (13 September 1861). Let Us Hear No More of Sending Back the Slave. The Liberator, p. 148.

Peters, Hayden. (12 May 2010). “Symbolism Sunday: The Acanthus,” from Art of Mourning. Retrieved from https://artofmourning.com/2010/12/05/symbolism-sunday-the-acanthus/

Pierce, Frederick Clifton (1901). Field Genealogy: Being the Record of All the Field Family in America, Whose Ancestors Were in this Country Prior to 1700. Emigrant Ancestors Located in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New York, New Jersey, New Hampshire, Virginia. All Descendants of the Fields of England, Whose Ancestor, Hurbutus de la Field, was from Alsace-Lorraine, Vol. 2. Hammond Press: Chicago, IL.

Porter, Joseph W., ed. (1888). Bangor Historical Magazine Jul, 1887-June 1888, Vol. III. Benjamin A. Burr: Bangor, ME.

Shaw, Richard R. (1994). Images of America: Bangor. Arcadia Publishing: Charleston, S.C.

Killed by the Hand of an Assassin

Gravestone of William B. Elliot located in South Branch
Cemetery, Levant, Maine. The misspelling of Elliot’s last
name, capital L's, and backward “b” in the abbreviation for
February, suggests the carver possessed a limited level of
literacy and was copying the letter shapes.  The epitaph reads: 
A Member of  Co. C. 11 Me. Regiment. Was Killed by the
hand of an assassin, Fed. [sic] 5, 1879. AE 36 yrs. 11 mos.

A couple years ago, I heard a story telling of a murderer who’d been hung and buried in a swamp behind South Branch Cemetery in Levant, Maine.  The legend of the swamp-mired murder’s grave originated in connection to the gravestone of William B. Elliot, a member of Company C of the 11th Maine (Civil War) Regiment who—as is inscribed on his gravestone— “was killed by the hand of an assassin, Feb. 5, 1879” at age 36 years, 11 months.  The chilling epitaph commemorates what may well be the state of Maine’s second oldest murder cold case.

The following account includes a summary of information about the murder published in the Bangor Daily Whig & Courier in the year following the murder.

Bangor, Maine — February 5, 1879.

Night watchman, Amos Colson, walked along the Washington Street side of the Maine Central Railroad station between 7:30 and 7:40 p.m. the evening of Wednesday, February 5, 1879 when a stranger—a man about 5 feet 5 inches in height with dark whiskers and complexion—drove a sled drawn by a two-horse hitch, rapidly west down Washington Street from Exchange in Bangor, Maine.  The swarthy man, wearing a long dark coat and cloth cap, stopped the sled just short of the station. Jumping down, the stranger ran past Colson, telling him to watch the horses, “saying something about getting over before the train left,” Colson reported.

Unimpressed but sympathetic to the horses’ needs, Colson tended the animals that he reported were “wet from fast driving,” stabling them across the street from the station. At 9:45 p.m., the train having rolled out of the station approximately 7:45 p.m. and the man failing to return, Colson went back to the sheds to cover the horses for the night. Colson was pulling a horse blanket from under some bags of meal in the back of the sled when, by the light of his lantern, he discovered the blanket and bags were saturated with fresh blood.

Sensing foul play, Colson mounted the sled and drove toward the police station. En route, he crossed paths with Bangor Police Officers Thomas F. Allen and Patrick J. Dougherty.  After hearing Colson’s story, Officer Allen took the sled to the station where the three men used additional lanterns to more fully examine the vehicle. It was then that the group discovered an axe covered with clotted blood and clumps of human hair. Marshal Alvin Reed was summoned and arrived at the police station at 10 p.m., just as young William Graffam showed up to report the discovery of a murder on Valley Avenue, only a couple miles from where Colson met the stranger at the train station.

A short time earlier, Graffam and a friend were walking on Harlow Street toward Valley Avenue, near the establishment of Merrill & Stiles, and found a man lying on the side of the road. Thinking the man was passed out drunk, they stopped to roust him rather than leave him to freeze in the snow. That’s when they discovered the man’s head was “horribly mangled.”  

Arriving at the scene, police found the man—later identified as William B. Elliot of Glenburn—lying just off the road, his feet toward the road. He was partially rolled in a horse blanket and tracks in the drifted snow showed where he’d first fallen, staggered, and fallen again at the point where he was discovered. As police examined the body, William issued a small moan.

Shocked that, as badly injured as he was, William clung to life, the men loaded him into a pung and delivered him to the police station. The rescuers sent for doctors but the medical evaluation was that the man was “beyond aid” and at 11:40 p.m., “the last spark of vitality left” his body.

The Victim

Portrait of William B. Elliot, ca. 1863,
Company C, 11th Maine Regiment.
Photo courtesy of Wayne Hoar.

The son of Calvin Elliot and Susannah E. Barrett Elliot, William was the oldest of eight children. Blonde and blue-eyed with a strong chin but boyish good looks, William Elliot served in the Union Army between August 1863 and February 1866, surviving the Civil War. In 1868, he married his brother-in-law’s sister, Joanna B. Lake.

William was well-known and respected in Bangor having lived in town for a period of time, working in the office of Provost Marshal Low before taking a job driving a milk cart for S. F. Fuller. By 1870, the U. S. Federal Census, noted that William was a farmer living in Glenburn, with a value of $1,530 including 98 acres of land, 78 of which were wooded, and various livestock. Seven years later, William served a single year as Constable and Tax Collector for the town of Glenburn.

The Investigation

The doctors’ examination after his death revealed that William Elliot suffered four, massive head wounds.  He received two blows to the back of his head with the butt of the axe, crushing his skull; a gaping wound caused by the axe bit on the right forehead that cut through the skull; and a final blow with the flat side of the axe  to the right temple that did additional crushing damage.

William was dressed for outdoor labor, wearing two coats, denim overalls, white, wool mittens, a wool scarf, and moccasins. Though he was carrying a pocket book containing various paperwork and 16 3-cent stamps, the only money found was 12 cents on the body and 42 cents in change found in the sled. Aside from the two sacks of meal, police found two pounds of coffee, a box of savory, two lemons, and some peanuts in the bed of the sled.

When interviewed, William Elliot’s wife, Joanna, indicated that her husband and their hired hand, Tozier Sproul, a 19-year-old orphan from Montville, left the Glenburn home about 8 o’clock that morning. Elliot told Joanna that he and Sproul would be working at a woodlot in the morning and that, later in the day, he planned to go to Bangor to look for work hauling ice for a day or two. This being the case, she did not expect him home. Neither did she know how much money William carried with him.

Sometime after the men departed, Randall Goodwin pulled up to the house in a sled saying he wanted to buy a load of seasoned firewood. Joanna Elliot explained where her husband could be found and Goodwin followed the sled tracks to the wood lot.

At about noon, Sproul returned to the Elliot house on foot, explaining that Goodwin found them and purchased a load of firewood for his neighbor, the widow Jameson, paying William $1.50 in cash. Sproul remained at the home, tending to chores the rest of the day and evening. According to Sproul, William headed to Bangor alone to look for work hauling ice.

At Merrill & Stiles Provisions, Groceries and Ice House, located in the former Stetson Mill on Harlow Street, a short distance from the murder scene, investigators learned from Joseph R. Merrill that William Elliot and a young man—about 18 years old, dressed in dark clothes—stopped at the store around 7 p.m., purchasing the two bags of meal that were found in the sled, and some other small items. William counted out $2.81 to pay for the purchases but Merrill didn’t see any other money. William and his companion loaded the purchases into the sled and drove away together around 7:15 p.m.

During the Coroner’s inquest, witness reports varied. One witness living in the neighborhood reported seeing William stopped on Valley Avenue standing by the sled talking to one man while another man sat in the sled. A married couple also reported seeing William driving the sled as a man dressed in dark clothing was standing in the back of the box.

Newspaper accounts of the time did not indicate whether police interviewed anyone associated with ice merchants: Penobscot River Ice, Co. or J. H. Robinson & Co. both located on Harlow Street or John L. Triggs, on Valley Avenue. The Whig & Courier did, however, publish a second description of the suspect given by James Fickett, as being “about 25-years of age” with red chin whiskers, seeking to leave the team in the shelter of a shed.

Not mentioned during the Coroner’s inquest was the newspaper’s account of two children who allegedly attempted to jump aboard the Elliot sled being driven by a solitary man shortly after the murder was thought to occur. While it was common for children in the city to hop on and off sleds to catch ride or as part of their play, in this instance the driver reportedly swung a whip at the children, yelling that they could not ride with him.

One of the children was alleged to react by grabbing the fall of the whip as it swung toward him, and he yanked the whip handle from the man’s hand. The children, cited in one report to be two boys and cited in a second report to be girls, returned the whip to the police during the investigation, recounting the incident.

Although of dubious scale, this 1875 map illustrates the level of development along  Valley Avenue and Harlow Street around the time of William Elliot’s murder and shows the likely route of the perpetrator’s escape (marked by the author with red arrows), along Harlow Street through East Market Square and down Exchange Street where he turned onto Washington Street en route to the railroad depot.  By modern measurement, this distance is approximately two miles. Unimpeded by traffic, a two-horse team, driven fast,  could cover this distance in five to seven minutes.  Bird’s Eye View of the City of Bangor, Penobscot County, Maine. 

Speculation about the Murder

While physical descriptions vary from witness to witness, William Elliot apparently picked up a stranger somewhere along his drive from Glenburn to Bangor. William stopped at Merrill & Stiles store and ice house to pick up provisions, leaving the establishment at approximately 7:15 p.m.  Around that same time, a witness reported seeing William stopped on Valley Avenue, speaking with another man. The final reported sighting on the Avenue—of a man standing in the back of the sled behind William as he drove—may have been only seconds before the murderer took his first swing with the axe.

The Whig & Courier reported that Officers Allen and Dougherty speculated the attack took place shortly after the pair left Merrill’s store. Due to the amount of blood in the back of the sled, police speculated the perpetrator stowed William in the back of the sled, covered with a horse blanket, to drive to a spot where he could dispose of the body. It is presumed this is why the driver “was so particular to prevent” the children from boarding the sled. Investigators surmised that after discarding of the body, the perpetrator turned the sled and headed toward town and his get-away.

One wonders at this theory, however. How would the perpetrator know of the axe in the bed of the sled? If his intention was robbery and murder, why would the perpetrator wait until after William Elliot made a purchase that reduced the value of his purse by nearly three dollars? Why would the murderer leave the body where it was so easily found, as well as take time to wrap it with a horse blanket? 

Being a snowy February night is it possible instead that, after leaving the store, William suggested his young passenger retrieve the horse blankets for the men to wrap themselves in, to help ward off the cold? Handing the first blanket to William, the stranger may have uncovered the axe and thinking to knock his driver out and stage a robbery, used the butt of the axe to club William twice on the back of the head, cracking open his skull and causing blood from a heavily bleeding wound to saturate the sacks of meal and the second horse blanket.

Injured, William fell from the sled into a snow drift but, at age 36 and in his prime, the former soldier was strong and determined to stand his ground. He managed to stand again. Still in the sled, the murderer swung the axe again, striking William in the forehead with the blade. Panicking, the stranger swung the axe a final time, hitting his victim in the right temple causing the fractured skull to crush inward as William finally collapsed, still wrapped in the horse blanket.

The murderer then secured Williams coin purse or wallet, spilling loose change as he stole the sled. Intent on his get-away, the stranger allegedly lashed out at the children who attempted to jump aboard the sled. Driving the horses hard for the less than two miles to the train station allowed the bewhiskered stranger only moments to abandon the sled and catch the last train out of Bangor for Boston, scheduled to depart at 7:40 p.m.

The Case Goes Cold

Police in Portland, Maine searched the night train when it arrived in that city at approximately 1:10 a.m. but no one matching Colson’s description of the suspect was found. Two days later, Fickett’s description of a red-whiskered suspect began to circulate.

On February 21, the Whig & Courier reported that a traveling agent stopping at the Smith Hotel in Oxford, New Hampshire recounted seeing a thin, 25-year-old man with a light, blotchy complexion and no whiskers who, according to the Whig & Courier, “answered the description” of the murder suspect. The description, however, constitutes the third version of the suspect’s appearance. 

Nonetheless, the young man who went by the name “Reed” was deemed suspicious for arriving at the Smith Hotel with no baggage and spending the following day attempting to beg a ride to Vershire, Vermont.  He was reported to have secured a ride as far as Orford, New Hampshire and upon arriving there, promptly set off on foot toward Vermont. Aside from the witness description, there is zero evidence the man called Reed had anything to do with William Elliot’s murder. Ultimately, the case went cold and remains unsolved to this day.

Resources

Bird’s Eye View of the City of Bangor, Penobscot County, Maine. Madison, Wisconsin: J. J. Stoner, 1875.

Bugbee, David, & Co. Greenough’s Directory of the Inhabitants, Institutions, Manufacturing Establishments, Societies, Business Firms, Etc., Etc. in the City of Bangor for 1879-1880. Boston: Greenough & Co., 1879. Retrieved 21, January 2017 from Ancestry.com. U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2011.

 “A Case for Sympathy.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Friday, February 14, 1879; Issue 39, 3.

Historical Data Systems, comp. U.S., Civil War Soldier Records and Profiles, 1861-1865 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations Inc, 2009.

“A Horrible Murder.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Thursday, February 06, 1879, Issue 32, 3.

“It seems to us.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Thursday, February 07, 1879, Issue 33, 3.

“Local Matters:  The Elliot Murder.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Friday, February 21, 1879; Issue 45, 3.

“One Year Ago Tonight.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Thursday, February 5, 1880; Issue 32, 3.

“The Recent Murder.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Saturday, February 08, 1879; Issue 34, 3.

“The Recent Murder: Coroner’s Inquest—Several Witnesses Examined.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Tuesday, February 11, 1879; Issue 36, 3.

 “The Recent Murder. Great Excitement in the City.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Thursday, February 07, 1879, Issue 33, 3.

 “The Recent Murder: Still a Mystery.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Saturday, February 10, 1879; Issue 35, 3.

 “The Valley Avenue Murder.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Wednesday, February 12, 1879; Issue 37, 3.

U.S. Census Bureau. 1860 United States Federal Census. Levant, Penobscot, Maine; Roll: M653_446; Page: 994; Family History Library Film: 803446.

U.S. Census Bureau. 1870 United States Federal Census. Glenburn, Penobscot, Maine; Roll: M593_554; Page: 21A; Family History Library Film: 552053.

”Valley Avenue Tragedy.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Monday, February 17, 1879; Issue 41, 3.

 “The Valley Avenue Tragedy.” Bangor Daily Whig & Courier, Tuesday, March 4, 1879; Issue 54, 3.

In Memoriam: Francis H. Duffy & Bridget Ann Loftus Duffy

The June 2010 GYR “scavenger hunt” blog carnival prompted me to start my own scavenger hunt for information about the people who lay beneath some of my favorite gravestones. My interest in grave stone research began with the question of how individual identity is depicted in a public space through grave stones and memorials but until now, I hadn’t sprung the cash necessary to access some of the more extensive online archives in a search for answers.

My birthday gift to myself this year was membership in Ancestry.com© which has given me access to volumes of information including census information, city directories, military records and digitized microfilm of the Bangor Daily Whig & Courier newspaper. This has afforded me an opportunity to conduct primary research from the comfort of my home office during hours that the physical archives of the Bangor Public Library, University of Maine Special Collections, Maine Historical Society, Maine State Archives, and the Bangor Museum and History Center are not available.

In this “In Memoriam” series of blogs, I will start with only photographs of grave stones I find interesting or attractive—owing exclusively to my own personal taste—and do my best to search out information about the identity of the individual or individuals memorialized in a quest to answer how individual identity is depicted in the public space of a cemetery.

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Francis H. Duffy and his wife Bridget A. Duffy

This white marble grave marker, located in Mt. Pleasant Catholic Cemetery, Bangor, Maine, depicts a combination of architectural features from the Gothic revival movement that started in the 18th and culminated in the 19th Century in America. The impact of Gothic revival in Bangor can still be seen in the architecture of buildings surviving from the mid-19th Century. As lumber barons and merchants cultivated their wealth, elaborate homes built in the latest architectural styles became a means of telegraphing business success, affluence and social standing. So the question becomes, does this broadcasting of success through architecture translate to gravestones that feature popular architectural styles of the era?

The well-carved Duffy stone depicts an unusual combination of Carpenter Gothic-style wings framing a lancet (blind) arch, supported by Byzantine-style Corinthian columns with acanthus leaf capitals. The apex of the arch is ornamented with a trefoil, theoretically symbolic of the Holy Trinity. The names of the dead are located within an arched door that features bilateral notches appearing mid-way in the doorjamb.

Above the arched door, the stone features an intricately carved floral arrangement that includes not only a sheaf of wheat—symbolic of full harvest and resurrection—and a fern frond—symbolic of sincerity—but also two delicately executed Iris blooms. The Iris blooms, if interpreted as fleur-de-lis can represent love and passion. As Iris, the flowers are symbolic of protection. While I have seen many similar stones depicting either ferns or wheat, this is the only stone I’ve found to date that combines these three symbols in such a fresh, energetic and flowing, almost living, artistic arrangement. Certainly execution of the carving itself is owed to the craftsman who wielded the chisel, but what does the stone communicate about the individuals interred below?

Who were Francis H. and Bridget A. Duffy?
As any genealogist can tell you, learning details about the lives of women in the printed record is difficult as emphasis in the earliest centuries of American history was placed on men and men’s activities. As a result, the information I cite here about Bridget Ann Loftus Duffy is in relation only to her marriage to Francis H. Duffy.

Francis H. Duffy was born in 1828 in Ireland, the son of Patrick Duffy and his wife, Bridget A. Francis’ father, Patrick, was born in County Monaghan, Ireland. His mother, Bridget, was born in County Mayo, Ireland. The small family of three immigrated to the United States, arriving July 7, 1835 in Passamoquoddy, ME when Francis was age 12. In 1835, the route for Irish immigrating to Bangor was by foot along the Airline Road, now known as Route 9.¹ On April 23, 1868, Francis became a Naturalized American citizen.

On August 3, 1846 at the age of 18, Francis married Bridget Ann Loftus, also age 18, in Bangor. Bridget Ann Loftus was born in Ireland and immigrated to the United States. Three years later, the couple gave birth to their first child, Mary Ann Duffy, on September 10, 1849. The child died on February 10, 1885, during a trip to Ohio. A complete list of the Duffy children follows:

Children:
Mary Ann Duffy, born Sept. 10, 1849; died Feb. 10, 1885 in Ohio
Thomas Duffy, born 1851, Bangor
Edward A. Duffy, born Feb. 28, 1855, Bangor; died Aug. 12, 1890, in Seattle Washington
William Duffy, born 1857, Bangor, died Aug. 12, 1890
Margaret Duffy, born 1859, Bangor
Isabella Duffy, born 1859, Bangor
George F. Duffy, born Mar. 16, 1866, Bangor
Charles Duffy, born April 6, 1868, Bangor
Frank Duffy, born August 1878, Bangor

According to the 1850 United States Federal Census, Francis Duffey [sic] was then age 22, living in Bangor with wife Bridget Duffey [sic], age 21, Mary A. Duffey [sic], age 2, born 1848 in Maine and Ellie O’Hara, age 17, born about 1833 in Ireland. Duffy’s occupation was listed as “gardener” in 1850 census and all subsequent years of the United States Federal Census in which his name appears. In 1850, his holdings were valued at $400, and both Duffy and Bridget were identified as being able to read and write. By 1870, Duffy’s holdings increased to $2000 and his household retained Isabella Morrissey, age 14, as a domestic servant, while the Duffy children Edward, William, Isabella and Ellen all attended school.

Exploration of the Bangor Daily Whig & Courier quickly revealed that Francis Duffy was not simply a gardener, but was a horticulturalist and founding member, officer and executive committee member of the Bangor Horticultural Society. Duffy’s gardening business was, in reality, a profitable greenhouse located on Court Street in Bangor. Duffy advertised his greenhouse with prominent listings appearing annually in the Whig and Courier during the late winter, early spring months.

The advertisements appear nearly identical year after year, with line art illustration of a pedestal garden urn and the headline: MAY DAY At Court Street Green House. F. H. Duffy will hold a Ticket Sale of Choice and Valuable Plants, on May 1st. Tickets shall be numbered so as to correspond with the numbers on the pots, which will give every one a fair chance to draw one plant, but in addition to that I shall put up three large Prizes. The first shall consist of eight plants, the second six and the third four. The plants, which I shall offer, will consist of Azalea indicas, Cinerarias, Fuchsias, Geraniums, Heliotropes, Moss Roses, many varieties, Salvias, Antirrhinums, Bengal, Tea, and many other very choice Roses. Also, fifty choice Prairie Roses, with many other fine plants. No Verbenas, Pansies, Daisies or Cheap Plants, will be offered in this sale. Tickets 25 cents. Green House open at 5 o clock and will keep open all day. Francis H. Duffy, Florist.

As a member of the Bangor Horticultural Society, in September 26, 1861, Duffy exhibited his skills as a gardener and florist, winning in contests for the best and largest display of first premium vegetables, $5.00 prize; best two nectarines, $2.00 prize; largest squash, .50 prize.

By 1900, the Duffy children were marrying and moving on. Oldest son Thomas gained early work as a joiner while daughter Elizabeth married Thomas F. Conners, born in New Brunswick, who worked as a moulder and founder. In the 1900 census, the Duffy household included only Francis and Bridget, both recorded as age 72, and bachelor son Frank whose occupation was listed as “gardener.” As Frank took over the Court Street Green House, Francis retired, being listed as “unemployed” for three months at the time of the census.

Two years later, Bridget would die in March 1902. As Bridget preceded him in death, one can speculate that it was in fact, Francis who selected the white marble gravestone that now stands in Mount Pleasant Cemetery. Would it then be Francis who identified with the luxuriant style of the Gothic revival stone or did he choose the style to reflect Bridget’s own taste? Almost certainly, Francis, a knowledgeable horticulturalist, can be credited with the choice of the elegant, eternal floral arrangement and the symbolism of wheat, ferns and Iris. On December 24, 1908, Francis followed his Bridget to the grave and the stone he selected to memorialize both their lives, thankfully free from vandalism, still serves its quiet duty 102 years later.


¹Mundy, James H. 1990. Hard Times, Hard Men: Maine and the Irish 1830-1860. Scarborough, ME: Harp Publications.