Genealogue Challenge #120

Victoria Moloney sent me this item from the Tucson (Ariz.) Daily Citizen of May 3, 1906.

CHICAGO, May 3—Mrs. Helen Moloney, the beautiful wife of James Moloney, the Chicago manufacturer, obtained a divorce solely to get a $500,000 estate left her by her mother on condition that she separate from him.

They are to be remarried this summer, just as soon as Mrs. Moloney perfects the title to the estate.

This was the statement made today by Mr. Moloney, who declares groundless the charges that his wife flirted with W. J. White, the "chewing gum king," of Cleveland. He declares that Mrs. Moloney is still true to him.

"Mrs. Moloney's mother, who is an English woman of title, took a strong dislike to me. She inserted in her will a bequest of nearly $500,000 to Mrs. Moloney, with the proviso that she divorce me. So we agreed to be divorced and remarry."

"What is the name of the titled English family to which Mrs. Moloney belongs?" was asked.

"I do not care to say. I do not wish to draw them into this affair," said Mr. Moloney. "We will be remarried before September 1."

Victoria asks, is the "divorce story true or a bunch of hooey?"

Can you find any proof that the story is true and the couple remarried?

Trench Testaments

A New York Times article from Sept. 30, 1917, reported that "trench wills" drawn up by soldiers in combat had been found valid in English courts even when unwitnessed.

In every case the War Office authorities make every effort to carry out the soldier's wishes, however crudely they are expressed, or however fantistic [sic] they may be.

Many of these trench wills have Tommy Atkins's characteristic touch of humor. Some are in dialect, some in phonetic spelling. Several have been in ciphers, solution of which has taxed the War Office experts. Occasionally they leave purely imaginary possessions to institutions of fictitious persons. Here is a will in rhyme which was written while the soldier was on duty at a "listening post" in No Man's Land:

I haven't a sweetheart, I haven't a mother.
I've only one sister, not even a brother;
My sister, Susan, is all I've got,
So of ought that's mine she can have the lot.

This will went through the courts without question, despite its unusual form. Another will in rhyme, leaving money to the "first comer," is the following:

Whoever first sets eyes on this
   Gets everything I leave,
For my kith and kin are dead and gone,
   And I've not a friend to grieve.
There's a tidy bit in the bank you'll find,
   And my army pay, though small,
So, stranger, breathe one sigh for me,
   You're welcome to it all.

This will was forwarded to England by the young sergeant who found it and he shortly afterwards received notification that the "tidy bit," which turned out to be a substantial sum of money, had been deposited to his account.

Still another will in rhyme was written by a private who had been cut off from his comrades for three days, without food or water and probably without sleep, for the greater part of that time, until the greatest desire in life seemed to him to get a big drink. It was as follows:

If I'm knocked out by bullet or bomb
   When over the top we go,
A gallon of beer I leave to Tom,
   Another to squint-eyed Joe.
We've borne the worst of a soldier's thirst
   Through days and nights of woe;
Give my dad the rest—but if I go west
   There's a drink for Tom and Joe.

There was some difficulty in carrying out this bequest, owing to the fact that half the men in the company insisted they have been called "Tom" and "Joe" by the testator, and the whole estate was finally turned over to the father, it being left to him to carry out the "two gallons clause" as he should see fit. [Link (pdf)]

Genealogue Challenge #8

Widow Mary Turnbull let out rooms in her home in 1880. One of her boarders would write in his will that he wanted to be buried "without any monkey business."

What was this boarder's name, and what was written on his tombstone?

How the English Evolved

While researching his new book, A Farewell to Alms, Gregory Clark wondered if the descendants of English people who survived disasters like the Black Death gained, through natural selection, a greater resistance to disease. This greater immunity, he supposed, might help explain how the Industrial Revolution came about.

In support of the disease-resistance idea, cities like London were so filthy and disease ridden that a third of their populations died off every generation, and the losses were restored by immigrants from the countryside. That suggested to Dr. Clark that the surviving population of England might be the descendants of peasants.

A way to test the idea, he realized, was through analysis of ancient wills, which might reveal a connection between wealth and the number of progeny. The wills did that, but in quite the opposite direction to what he had expected.

Generation after generation, the rich had more surviving children than the poor, his research showed. That meant there must have been constant downward social mobility as the poor failed to reproduce themselves and the progeny of the rich took over their occupations. “The modern population of the English is largely descended from the economic upper classes of the Middle Ages,” he concluded. [Link]

As the wealthy dropped in social status, says Clark, they passed down (culturally, or perhaps genetically) their capitalist values to the workforce that drove the Industrial Revolution.

Most of my ancestors sat out the Industrial Revolution, and, in light of my life of abject poverty, I'm guessing I lack the capitalism gene. I'm well suited for serfdom.

The First Lady's Pin Money

Listed in the annual financial disclosure forms filed by President and Mrs. Bush is a curious item: "Henry G. Freeman Jr. Trust — $12,000."

The payment was to Mrs. Bush from an annuity created by Freeman, a prominent Philadelphia landowner, when he wrote his will in 1912.

Freeman, who died in 1917, directed that after the last named beneficiary of his estate died, $12,000 a year would be paid "to the lady termed the first lady in the land; that is, the President of the United States [sic] wife, or anyone representing the president as such, should he not be married or should she die during his administration." He specified that the money be for the first lady's "own and absolute use" and the payments "shall continue in force as long as this glorious government exists." [Link]

Freeman's "last named beneficiary" died in 1989, and first ladies have receiving funds from "The Henry G. Freeman Jr. Pin Money Fund" ever since.

Where There's a Will, There's a Way to Keep It Secret

I've written before about Robert Brown's claim that he is the illegitimate child of the late Princess Margaret. Now Brown wants to take a peek at her will to see if it might prove his claim. Problem is, wills made by members of the Royal Family are not open to inspection by the public.

If individuals in general were allowed to claim the right to represent the public and seek judicial review, there would be "anarchy", counsel said. "This week Mr Brown; next week Mr White, Mr Pink, Mr Green."

This principle was established to avoid "busybodies, cranks and mischief-makers". Mr [Frank] Hinks said: "With all due respect, this applies to Mr Brown. He is suffering from a delusion." [Link]

Evidently very little respect is due Mr. Brown.

Any More Last Bequests?

Here are a few more selections from Virgil M. Harris's 1911 Ancient, Curious, and Famous Wills—a book I first ripped off in July.

A British sailor requested his executors to pay to his wife one shilling, wherewith to buy hazelnuts, as she had always preferred cracking nuts to mending his stockings. [p. 80]

John Parker, a bookseller living in Old Bond Street, served his wife in the following manner, leaving her no more than fifty pounds, and in the following words: "To one Elizabeth Parker, whom through fondness I made my wife, without regard to family, fame, or fortune, and who in return has not spared most unjustly to accuse me of every crime regarding human nature, except highway robbery, I bequeath the sum of fifty pounds." [p. 86]

A certain wealthy man left this provision in his will: "Should my daughter marry and be afflicted with children, the trustees are to pay out of said legacy, Ten Thousand Dollars on the birth of the first child, to the ______ Hospital; Twenty Thousand Dollars, on the second; Thirty Thousand Dollars, on the third; and an additional Ten Thousand Dollars on the birth of every fresh child, till the One Hundred and Fifty Thousand Dollars is exhausted. Should any portion of this sum be left at the end of twenty years, the balance is to be paid to her to use as she thinks fit." [p. 88]

A certain Glasgow doctor died some ten years ago, and left his whole estate to his sisters. In his will appeared this unusual clause: "To my wife, as recompense for deserting me and leaving me in peace, I expect the said sister, Elizabeth, to make her a gift of ten shillings sterling, to buy her a pocket handkerchief to weep after my decease." [p. 88]

Did the Princess Hide a Pregnancy?

Robert Brown, an accountant born in Kenya in 1955, claims to be the illegitimate son of Princess Margaret, and 12th in line to the British throne.

At the heart of his claim is a meeting he had with a woman he believes to have been Princess Margaret when he was a young boy in Nairobi.

"I don't recall ever seeing her before but I know this woman spent some time with me. I remember we were playing games and during the day she told me that I must be on my very best behaviour because one day I might be king of England. That meeting has stayed with me and kept me going. Although I don't think I ever saw her again."

A key part of his case is that at the time of his birth, the Princess is described in at least one report of the day as [having] been confined to bed with a "hacking cough". [Link]

"Hacking cough" is, of course, an English euphemism for the expulsion of a child from one's uterus.

Father Hoped Kids Would Hang Together

From the Evening State Journal of Lincoln, Neb., Dec. 10, 1936:

NEW YORK. (AP) The will of Giuseppe Gallo, who left five cents to each of five children with the expressed hope each would buy a piece of rope and hang himself, was upheld by Surrogate Heitherington.

The surrogate ruled that the children, attacking the will in which the father left about $17,000 to "my dear friend, Emeila Mozzara," had not established that Gallo was of unsound mind or had been unduly influenced. Only 25 cents for the children was set aside in the strange bequest—five cents to each "to use to purchase a piece of rope in the hope each will strangle himself or herself with the rope."

What's the Value of a Daughter?

From the Chester (Pa.) Times of Dec. 15, 1882:

A very curious will found its way into the office of the Register of Wills of Chester county at West Chester a few days ago, in which the testator does not seem to have had anything but his daughter to bequeath. The following is an exact copy of the curious document:

September 16, 1882,

Coleraine Township,

Lancaster County, Penna

Know all men by these presents that I, Morris E. Jones, do hereby give and bequeath unto Mary E. Whiteside, my Daughter Della Jones, to have and to hold and to clothe and to keep as her own child and to do for her and with her as thinks best until she becomes of full age.

This is my last will and testament and I desire the same to be recorded as such.

Witness my hand and seal this 16th day of September, 1882.

Morris E. Jones.

Witness Present

Milton Keech

When this singular will was presented for probate the Register refused to probate it, on the ground that he could not make an appraisement nor could he grant letters of administration or testament. The legatee through her attorney, E. D. Bingham, Esq., of Oxford, has appealed from the decision of the Register. The latter has certified the appeal into the Orphans' court, where it will be argued at the next argument court.

Here's the Jones family in 1880.

Any Last Bequests?

Here are a few selections from Virgil M. Harris's 1911 classic Ancient, Curious, and Famous Wills—mentioned a couple of weeks ago on Randy Seaver's blog.

A Woman Hater

Altogether unique was the whim of a rich old bachelor, who, having endured much from "attempts made by my family to put me under the yoke of matrimony," conceived and nursed such an antipathy to the fair sex as to impose upon his executors the duty of carrying out what is probably the most ungallant provision ever contained in a will. The words are as follows: "I beg that my executors will see that I am buried where there is no woman interred, either to the right or to the left of me. Should this not be practicable in the ordinary course of things, I direct that they purchase three graves, and bury me in the middle one of the three, leaving the two others unoccupied." [p. 131]

Will of an English Farmer

A Hertfordshire farmer inserted in his will his written wish that "as he was about to take a thirty years' nap, his coffin might be suspended from a beam in his barn, and by no means nailed down." He, however, permitted it to be locked, provided a hole were made in the side through which the key might be pushed, so that he might let himself out when he awoke. However, as his death took place in 1720, and in 1750 he showed no signs of waking, his nephew, who inherited his property, after allowing one year's grace, caused a hole to be dug and had the coffin put into it. [p. 143]

Must Marry "Anton" or "Antonie"

An eccentric Frenchman left his estate to his six nephews and six nieces on the condition that "every one of my nephews marries a woman named Antonie and that every one of my nieces marries a man named Anton." They were further required to give the Christian name Antonie or Anton to every first-born child according to the sex. The marriage of each nephew was to be celebrated on one of the St. Anthony's Days, either January 17th, May 10th, or June 13th, and if, in any instance, this last provision was not complied with before July, 1896, one-half of the legacy was in that case to be forfeited. [p. 178]

A Premium on Pigmanship

A wealthy tradesman, M. Thomas Heviant, died at the village of Crône-sur-Marne in 1878. In his will he made a number of singular bequests, among which is the following, which is carried out at the annual fête of the village. He ordered that among the amusements should be a race with pigs, the animals to be ridden either by men or boys. The sum of 2000 francs was set apart as the prize to the lucky rider of the winning pig. The prize was not to be handed over, however, except on the condition that the winner wore deep mourning for the deceased during two years after the competition. The municipality accepted the eccentric bequest, and these singular races have been held agreeably to the terms of the will. [p. 102]

No Underclothes in Winter

A crabbed old German professor, who died at Berlin in 1900, entertaining a great dislike for his sole surviving relative, left his property to him, but on the absolute condition that he should always wear white linen clothes at all seasons of the year, and should not supplement them in winter by extra undergarments. [p. 159]

Must Pay for her Drinks

Mr. Davis of Clapham, England, left the sum of 5s. "to Mary Davis, daughter of Peter Delaport, which is sufficient to enable her to get drunk for the last time at my expense." [p. 160]

Genealogy Can Put Your Kids Through College

Dick Eastman writes today of a Brighton College scholarship that's gone unclaimed because a candidate with the right name can't been found. It was funded by a bequest of Brighton graduate Major Charles Wakehurst Peyton, who placed one strict requirement on potential recipients.

Major Peyton's will stipulated that only a child with the "unhyphenated name of Peyton on their birth certificate" could claim the prize. [Link]

Further, the name must be spelled "Peyton"—no "Paytons" allowed.

It's not unusual for a school to offer scholarships to applicants who descend from a certain individual or couple (Harvard offers eleven), or from a certain class of individuals (the University of California once offered one to descendants of Warner Brothers employees).

Tracking down these cash prizes may be the best way to prove to one's family that genealogy is a worthwhile pursuit. The second-best way? Saving their lives.

[tagged: genealogy, family tree, ancestry]