This week in 1863 …

… The Draft Riots were consuming New York City (from July 13 – 16, 1863).

It was an ugly chapter in New York City history. The spark was a strict new draft law empowering the President to draft all males between ages 18 and 35 for a three-year term of military service. It also established a loophole whereby a man who paid $300 (or paid a substitute to fight for him) could exempt himself from the service — a natural sore point for those lacking money to buy their way out.

It was a short step from resenting the draft to resenting the city’s African American population. Modern scholars see the riots as a boiling point for a big, noxious stew of tensions — white laborers resentful of black laborers’ competition in the marketplace; decades’ worth of sensational journalism decrying the supposed evils of  interracial socializing and marriages. The mob also targeted so-called “amalgamationists,” which mostly meant white women married or cohabiting with black men.

When it was all over, at least 120 citizens were dead (some estimates put the toll much higher), and 50 buildings were destroyed, including, infamously, the Colored Orphan Asylum, whose children were moved to the almshouse on Blackwell’s Island for safety. African Americans bore the brunt of the mob’s fury: citizens were seized by the crowd to be stabbed, lynched, and beaten to death, and the homes of several prominent black citizens were burned.

The Draft Riots have retained a vivid life in the imaginations of novelists and filmmakers. A notable recent example is Martin Scorsese’s film Gangs of New York, which draws heavily on Herbert Asbury’s 1928 account. (More recent scholarship has disagreed with aspects of Asbury’s study, including casualty figures.)

With the Civil War raging, the Draft Riots were a destructive and disturbing convulsion — “equivalent to a Confederate victory,” wrote scholar Samuel Eliot Morrison. Order was restored after three days of violence, but the scars remained in permanent rifts between the black and white working class, and a widespread exodus of black families from once-thriving African-American neighborhoods in Manhattan.

The City University of New York provides a summary of events on its site. Also, this page contains a list of Civil War officers involved in military interventions during the riots.


Links, 7.12.10

Crafty connections: An unusual chance meeting: Guy gets dragged to a craft show by his wife, spots a family tree quilt on display, realizes he’s working on the same lines. Who knew? The quilter, Nancy Frantz of Marine City, Mich., called her creation the Family Forest Quilt. (What a great idea, by the way.) Bill Saunders spotted the quilt during his unenthusiastic tour of the craft show and realized one of the family lines on it matched a line he was researching. See? Craft shows are good for you!

In-deed: I liked this guide to researching with deeds. Julie Miller explains why they are a support beam of solid genealogy research, and how to mine them for important information. One interesting point: Deeds are not always recorded at the exact time of the land transaction. Miller cites an example from her research in which a deed was recorded decades after the fact.

Troy, NY marriages: The Troy Times-Record reports that early 20th-century marriage records from Troy, NY — more than 30,000 of them — are now available online due to the efforts of the Troy Irish Genealogy Society. Visit the TIGS site to view the records, which span 1908-1935. Another praiseworthy partnership between volunteers and public record repositories.

Army abbreviations, decoded: Those with ancestors in the Canadian military might enjoy this article on Canadian military abbreviations. If you are researching someone with something like  “11thlFofC” next to their name, check it out.

Off topic, but important: Finally, I know a lot of us are on the road, having fun in the sun and playing in the water. Read this post about how people in danger of drowning don’t look the way they do in the movies. The author compellingly notes that it’s possible to be literally steps away from a person about to go under and not realize they’re in trouble if you don’t know what to look for. Potentially lifesaving information that I’ll be taking along with me on my beach trips, for sure.

Have fun and stay safe!


Links 6.1.10

Sorry about the Monday-links-on-Tuesday thing. I was intending to post them as usual, but what started out as a brief intro about Memorial Day ran away with me and became a post of its own.

Well, here are the links to help you ease back into Real Life after the long weekend.

The Great Hunger: You might have seen the hullabaloo about the proposed auction of a collection of letters written by Irish landowners during the years of the great famine. After much concern that a private collector would snap them up, an archive bought the letters and it looks as if they will stay in Ireland.  In the aftermath, one columnist had an interesting answer to the question posed by many letter writers to the Irish Times: “Why don’t we have a famine museum?” Apparently there is one, but people don’t know it exists.

A fab genealogy job: I feel very stupid, but until this week, I did not know there was such a thing as a professional probate genealogist. Now I do. The title is now stuck in my head as part of an imaginary detective yarn: “Lynch here; professional probate genealogist. I understand there’s been a discrepancy in a birthdate.”

Finding graves: Did you see the current 52 Weeks to Better Genealogy challenge on exploring Find-A-Grave? Get fired up with this interesting profile of an active Find-A-Grave volunteer — how she got started and what it’s really like chasing down headstones.

Military matters: Memorial Day reminiscing can be an on-ramp to the genealogy highway. If this past weekend got you curious about a military ancestor, here are some good places to start: the military section of Cyndi’s List; a nice primer at Olive Tree Genealogy; and of course, the military records section at the National Archives.

Summer is here, people. You can wear your white shoes now. Go get ‘em!


War Memorial

I had a high school teacher whose behavior could be erratic, to put it mildly. He could be a genial, funny, wisecracking sort of guy. But he could lose his temper with a swift intensity that looked damned scary to a clueless freshman.

Any little thing could do it. I do not remember exactly how I set it off the time I was the target. It might have been something like not responding quickly enough when he called on me. Maybe I was grinning at one of his remarks. In five seconds, he went from calm instructor to red-faced and furious, nose-to-nose with me, screaming at the top of his lungs that I’d better not disrespect him again. When he was done, he continued the lesson as if nothing had happened.

Another time he went around the class asking us about our fathers’ military service. He himself had seen combat in the Marines. Where had our fathers served?

“Army,” said one kid.

“You dad was smarter than me,” said my teacher. “Next?”

“Navy,” said the kid next to me.

“Smarter still.” My teacher was on a roll now. He pointed at me. “What about your father?”

“Coast Guard,” I said.

“Smartest guy of all.” Even the most clueless of freshmen knew that this wasn’t a compliment. And indeed, it was a launching point for a five-minute, acerbically humorous riff on easy tours of duty, as compared to other (unspecified) nastier assignments.

I never mentioned any of this to my parents at the time. I wasn’t programmed to bring problems like that home — it was our business to take what the teachers dished out. But also, it was easy to see that the guy had issues with a capital I. The encounter angered but also disturbed me; I wondered what he was really expressing with it.

And years later, after I’d graduated and heard that he’d committed suicide, I was not terribly surprised. We didn’t have a name for it, but even back in the 1970s we were starting to figure out that you could come home from a war only to find the war came home with you.

Memorial Day is when we remember those killed in combat, but I’d also like to remember the ones who came home and never talked about it, who cracked jokes and blew their stacks for no good reason, the ones whom the wars claim again and again, years after the fact. I wish them peace and honor their service.


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