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(My Great Grandmother - on dad's side of the family)
I REMEMBER
A Diary Written By:
Jessie Brummitt James
 I
remember being told that my grandfather Brummitt
came to America from England in 1856, first to
Canada and then to the United States. He was born in
Assett, Yorkshire, England August 23, 1832. He
married Mary Lucas in England November 20, 1853,
they established a home in South Assett, Yorkshire.
When grandfather decided to come to America,
Grandmother Brummitt followed grandfather to the
United States in the spring of 1857 with the small
Elizabeth who was two years old and with Mr. and
Mrs. Henry Brummitt, a brother of grandfather and a
Miss Axley and Lewis Payne. Miss Axley later became
the wife of Lewis Payne. The little child,
Elizabeth, died during the crossing and was buried
at sea. I remember how sad I always felt and still
do to think of grandfather anticipating a happy
reunion with his family in a new country. How sad it
was for him! And it was hard for grandmother to
leave her family in England. Her father, who was
Mark Lucas, was a lay minister not having been
ordained of Primitive Methodist Church in Assett.
For many years a painting of him hung in the vestry
of the church. Howard, a great grandchild, my
brother and his wife Marion saw it, as did Aunt
Emily and Aunt Maria who were grandchildren and
Mildred Loring Fitch, a great grandchild on various
visits to Assett. In 1966, at her request, the
painting was sent to Mildred Fitch where the church
building was raised.
It is interesting to
note here, the beginning of the Brummitt name, which
originated in England. The name derived from Broom,
a wild straw-like plant and eventually became
Brummitt. In the very early days, the family names
were formed from a combination of places or objects
thus my grandfathers name was Brummitt handed down
from previous generations. Grandmother's family was
the Clan Campbell of Scotland, the Duke of Argyll
being the head of this clan and another family, the
Lamerts, who were loyal to King Charles I. Because
of their loyalty to the King some of them were
massacred in 1646. From this date on the Lamerts
lost so much land and wealth this caused their
downfall. The remaining Lamerts spread out of
Scotland, some going to Yorkshire and some to
France. One by the name of Lucas, which was
grandmother's maiden name, was accused of murdering
a person (unknown) and the Lamerts protected him.
There is a void here, which seems impossible to fill
in, however the Lucas name was known as a Sept of
the Clan Lamant, which originated about 1235. The
Lion family is an offshoot of Clan Lamont. One
member accidentally killed his uncle in the 1700's
and he changed the spelling of his name to Lyon.
Lion is in the Clan Lamont's coat of arms. The
founder of the Lion family centered at Glamis
Castle, Scotland and became the Earl of Stuat'hmore
later. Elizabeth Bowes Lyon, the mother of the
present Queen Elizabeth is one of his descendants.
The Lamonts were also descendants of the Irish King
Brian O'Neil. The Clan Lamonts endowed Paisley Abby,
this is where the name from the famous Paisley
shawls originated. We, as descendants, can wear the
Lamert crest in a metal pin. The crest of the Clan
Lamont, chief of the clan's motto is: "Neither kill,
nor spurn".
This early
information was obtained in Victoria from Mrs.
Bailey who is an authority on Scottish clans. There
is a book called "History of Clan Lamont".
Grandfather has
prepared a home in the wilderness of Northern
Indiana, twelve miles south of Lake Michigan. He
made a clearance and built a log cabin with some
acreage, which he could farm. Their file was very
rugged. My father John W. Brummitt was born
September 12.1859, the second son. There was Mark,
the first son and Maria. Grandfather enlisted in the
9th Indiana Volunteers Company C in the Civil
War in 1864. He was discharged in July 1865. I
remember being told of the great hardships and the
endurance grandmother displayed during his absence
with three small children and illnesses in the
severe winter. My father had the ague all winter
long with severe chills and fever. He was so thin
and weak, but eventually out grew this. Wolves came
to their very doorways howling at night! As his
family grew larger, grandfather built a larger home
about one mile from the original cabin, with four
bedrooms, a kitchen, living-dining room and a
parlor. Later there was Aunt Jenny, Aunt Emily and
Uncle Arthur added to the family. Grandfather kept
clearing land, acquiring more year by year until he
owned 120 acres of sandy loam tilled by a team of
oxen, named Buck and Bridget, often driven by my
father.
they had helped
establish a church in the village of Furnessville.
He and his brother Henry engaged in a bitter
argument over the religion. Henry then organized
another church. I remember being told that the
bitterness between the two brothers lasted all of
their lives and they never spoke to each other
again. When Aunt Emily had qualified for a teaching
position, after attending normal school in
Valparaiso, Indiana, which later became the present
University, she applied to teach at the Furnessville
School. Henry Brummitt and his church followers
bitterly opposed her. A vote was taken and she won!
She taught school in the village and boarded with
the Newman family.
Grandfather purchased
and tilled more land with the help of his sons.
Times improved. He became prosperous for that time.
They raised and educated six children, all of them
attending Valparaiso Normal College. After this,
grandfather and grandmother, their sons Mark and
Arthur and daughters Maria, Jenny and Emily moved to
New Carisle, Indiana in 1886. The girls teaching
school and the boys working with their father in a
hardware store which he purchased. Later he sold
this and with the two sons became the town's only
banker. This was a highly successful enterprise and
remained in the family for many years being
eventually managed by Arthur's son, Arthur , Jr.,
until his retirement at age 65. My father remained a
farmer. He took over the Indiana farmland, which was
in Pine Township, first as a renter and much later
the owner. Grandfather having given each of his
children a share of his fortune which Father applied
to the purchase of the land.
My father married
Emma Newman, whose parents came to the United States
from Bavaria. I remember being told that my
grandmother Newman was married and had two children
in the old country. When her father, Galieb Werdien,
announced that he was going to America with his
family, my grandmother Wilamina cried so hard and
was so broken hearted that her father consented to
her, her husband, and children to come along. Great
Grandfather Werdien has no use for Wilamina's
husband. However, they all came to America, Mr. and
Mrs. Golieb Werdien and the four daughters in 1854.
Their only son, August, wished to remain in Germany.
He saw the family off at Hamburg, the latter part of
April. They arrived in the United Stated the latter
part of May having taken one month to cross the
Atlantic Ocean. With the money, great-grandfather
Werdien had purchased a triangular piece of land on
the outskirts of Michigan City, bound by Elston
Street on the East, 9th Street on the South and by
Chicago Street which ran NE and SW. It is not clear
what happened to Wilimina's husband, but he died
under peculiar circumstances shortly after arriving
in the United States and was buried in Michigan City
in an unmarked grave. The two children later died
also. This has always been one of those raised
eyebrow and hush hush affairs and a rather sketchy
explaination handed down. The four daughters known
to me as a child were Mrs. Newman, Mrs. Humble, Mrs.
Pahl and Mrs. Shumaker. Mrs. Newman, of course being
my mother's mother and my grandmother. The son
August died in Germany and they never saw him again
after the farewell at Hamburg. This brother had four
children whom were last heard from by Mrs. Humble
(Aunt Humble, we called her) in 1860. A friend, Mr.
Irion, in behalf of Mrs. Humble tried to locate his
children in 1919 in Germany, but all traces of them
had been lost. Auntie Humble was born March 20,
1831. I do not remember if she was older or younger,
but I presume she was younger than my grandmother
was (her sister) since grandmother was already
married when they came to America. Since Auntie
Humble remained single longer than her sisters and
contributed to the support and care of her parents,
the three sisters were willing to waive their rights
and interests of the home property to her. She was
there, of course, Amalie Werdien. She first married
a Fredrick Herman in 1857. Her husband and father of
the boys died in 1864 and was buried in Michigan
City, Indiana. In 1866 she was married to Bytt
Humble who died in March 1887, also buried in
Michigan City, Indiana. This is interesting in as
much that the two Hermann boys were to inherit a
large sum of money from a relative who had huge
holdings in New York, NY. I remember being told it
was close to a million dollars. However, Fredrick
died November 12, 1913 and George died on August 10,
1914. I think Auntie Humble had also passed away. In
any case, the inheritance was now to be divided
among the various heirs of which my mother was one.
However, slick lawyers in New York together with
Henry Pahl, mother's cousin living in Valparaiso at
that time (1915 think) in cahoots with the
mayor of Michigan City, who had some sinister
influence caused all the heirs to hire individual
lawyers (Ed Freund) representing my mothers
interest. He always loasted that he recieved a god
retainer with whom he purchased his Washington
Street residence, plus a nice amount of cash.
However that may be, I think my mother received
about $8K. The lawyers getting the bulk of it, with
the Michigan City mayor and Henry Pahl, especailly
Henry Pahl becoming wealthy. There was considerable
bitterness and loss of friendships among the heirs.
MY grandmother, who
was Wilamina Wardein, before she married the first
time as previously mentioned having lost her husband
and two children, later married Ernest Newman. My
mother Emma Newman was born March 8, 1862. The
family lived in the village of Furnessville, which
was named for Dwight Furness who was our first
ambassador to Mexico. She was among the young people
of the village and was interested in the church work
and other limited activities of those days that the
young members of the Brummitt families were
interested in along with the Paynes, Furnesses,
Pughs, Teals, and others. There were six children
born to the Ernest Newman's, Louis, William,
Fredrick, Edward, Emma, and Julai. Their home, a
sort fo Cape Cod architecture, was situated on a
hill on a road, which ran parallel to the Michigan
Central Railroad tracks. That home is still there
today (1969) remodeled and highway #12 runs along
side it, an improved modern highway, which was once
a deep sandy road for many years.
I remember being told
that when mother was a small child she had wandered
onto the railroad tracks, sitting playing with the
stones and cinders between the rails and had been
snatched from danger shortly before the morning
express passenger train was due. My mother and
father knew each other growing up together. They
were married September 25, 1880. Mother being 18 and
father 21 years old. They began housekeeping in the
log cabin grandfather built and first lived in. The
senior Brummitt's having moved into a newly built
home about one mile distant. The first child a son
Marion was born June 21, 1881. Then there were twins
who died in infancy. Pearle was born June 24, 1884
and I, Jesse, was born September 4, 1888. All the
while we lived in the log cabin. Later we moved into
the larger home, vacated by grandfather, when he
moved his family to New Carisle.
I remember being told some members of the Brummitt
family resented my father marring my mother, but as
I grew up I knew it was Aunt Emily. She later became
Mrs. Hannibal H. Loring, a nice sounding name I
always thought rather aristocratic. She was a
constant critic of all the small things in family
life. I think she influenced grandmother to a degree
but I always felt the other members of the family
approved of my mother. After moving into the larger
home, which is standing today and just as it was,
Mabel was born December 30, 1890. Neva was born June
6, 1892 and Estella was born December 30, 1894.
I remember being quite
happy as a child on the farm, except Marion teased
me sometimes being actually cruel and Pearle going
along with him so that he would be nice to her.
These early impressions always remained and never
during our lives, have I ever cared deeply for
Marion. I dreaded having mother going shopping in
Michigan City and leaving me in their care.
I remember being in the
"Chart class" which was a class prior to the first
grade, in the school. Clara Way Teals presided over
as teacher of grades up to and including the 8th
grade. We small children had long recesses and were
audience for the making of sargum near the school. A
horse was driven in a circle, pulling a device
attached to some sort of a hopper into which the
sugar cane was fed to extract the juices. We could
always have a short sugar cane to nibble on.
On Saturday afternoons,
the fire was made to burn very briskly in the
kitchen and the wooden tub used for laundry was
placed in the middle of the floor. One by one Polly
Sanderson, who was mother's helper, bathed us and
soaped us good, shampooed our hair and we had to put
on clean clothes from head to foot. This was no
problem in the summer, but I remember how I loathed
changing winter underwear, which consisted of a long
shirt and long legged pants. I hated the snug
feeling of the long shirt and would fold it up to
fit around my waist and just never got it arranged
to feel comfortable. This was a big issue with me
and I remember how frustrated I was trying to fold
the thing the way I wanted it. It would just get
about right on Thursday and then Saturday would come
again. After one piece union suits of underwear were
obtainable, this problem was solved.
Polly Sanderson was a
petite, English girl who was left behind in England
when her sweetheart Hague Teale came to America. He
jilted her and she followed him over to the new
country, but she never found him. She lived at our
house and helped mother, always seeking news of
Hague. Several years later she married and lived in
Furnessville for many years. Pearle and I called on
her years later. We both were married and Polly
served tea and cakes and we talked of those early
days and the Saturday ritual. Her daughter became
the wife of Herman Kempf, a banker in Porter,
Indiana.
On our way to and from
school, we younger children having passed an
invitational woodsy area and would go into the woods
and meadows to gather wild flowers and hunt the
wintergreen berry which we ate. They were bright red
small berries, which grew among their own shiny
leaves, obvious in their identity, so we were sure
not to eat a poisonous berry. In the lovely woodsy
spring air we wandered picking violets and trailing
arbutus, days of natures wonders and our own
innocence of cruel world yet to endure. Truly
childhood is a acme of life.
In addition to the
regular farm crops the haying and caring for the
stock, my father grew and sold beautiful choice
strawberries in season to the Chicago markets.
During this time grandfather Brummitt would come
from New Carlisle and stay through the strawberry
season. We children loved to have him come. In the
evenings he would tell us stories and always name
our fingers Tom, Thumper, Mary Milker, Long Razor,
Jerry Bouser, and Little Tippy Talen was one
delightful favorite. There was "This little pig went
to the market, this little pig stayed home, this
little pig had bread and butter my boys, this little
pig had none, and this little pig cried all the way
home "I want some". We adored him. I remember one
time I went home with him, but I became very
homesick indeed and wouldn't let grandfather out of
my sight. He would take me by the hand walking along
to whatever business he had at attend to I sat by
him at the table and slept with him. I was
terrorized if I lost him. I wasn't to visit them
again until I was old enough to accept strange
surroundings. During the strawberry season, many
pickers would come, all Polish, with their lunches
and small children. What jabbering went on, along
with their numbly efficiency in berry picking. By
3:00pm 50 or 60 crates of 16 quarts each would be
brought in from the field. The tops were carefully
nailed on the crates and stacked into the wagon to
be driven over the very deep sandy road to
Furnessville because they had to make the 4:00pm
Michigan Central train to reach Chicago markets a
short time later. The pickers were paid for the day
and all was quiet and peaceful until they arrived
two days later to gather the ever ripening crop,
which lasted about three weeks for the trade. When
the berries got smaller and fewer of then, then
mother would can and preserve them. I remember that
mother would drive into the Dunes along Lake
Michigan to gather buckets of blueberries, also
called Huckleberries. How bored I was when she took
me along! Five years old!!
Father was a great
storyteller. When he hunched forward on his chair
and got that twinkle in his eye, we knew we would
hear an amusing story. I remember he used to love
telling about a girl he liked and wanted to marry,
but her parents discouraged it because they thought
he was tubercular and would not live ling because he
was very thin, hollow eyed with a sallow complexion
due to the severe ague each winter. He would go into
detail about all this to make a good story. His
dignity, capabilities, health, and ego had been
infringed upon. The girl died at an early age after
marrying a strapping big fellow who did not live
long either. Father told this story many times
during the years he lived to be 96 and it always
created amusement among us, probably because of the
unique storyteller he was.
When one is a very young
child and has the utmost faith in one's parents, one
can easily be so hurt even thought the parent
apparently thought she was doing just a trick that a
child would soon forget.
Mother was ready to go
to the village and about to get into the buggy when
I begged to go along. Everyone was away and I did
not want to stay alone, but I evidently was not
presentable having been playing about and soiled. At
that time I was afraid of mad dogs, every shadowed
thing looked like a frothy mouthed mad dog, because
the neighbors had been talking about them. I ran to
get into the buggy, but mother said I must go to the
toilet first which of course was an outhouse. How I
hurried and ran crying "wait for me" over and over.
When I ran to get into the buggy, mother was driving
away. I was so terrified and disappointed and ran
after her. I ran through that deep sand, sobbing and
calling her for about one half mile where Lucy
Baylor, a neighbor, stopped me in front of their
place. I remember how I fought her and kicked her
and sobbing hysterically. I have never forgotten
this and never fully trusted my mother again, which
shows how a five-year-old child needs to have faith
and that faith must be reciprocated. This story has
been remembered by Lucy Baylor. Many years later
when I was the mother of three children, she
reminisced about it. She also reminisced about the
time her family and ours were having a picnic at
Lake Michigan. In those days no buildings just deep
sand and all so wild and natural and beautiful. We
children were all wading in a stream that fed into
the lake and still does today. When Pearle stepped
into a hole and went down over her head, once, twice
and was going down for the third time Kitty Baylor,
who was the same age, grabbed her by the hair. All
of us were screaming which brought mother and the
others to the scene all terribly shaken. Pearle had
turned blue and shivering. She was wrapped in what
was available and hurried home, horse galloping
through the sand for about five miles.
I remember too, being
very ill as a child. I don't know what the ailment
was, but I remember mother wishing to go to church
because she had been so close at home caring for me
and father said he would stay with me. They carried
me into the living room and had a couch for me to
lie on so I could look out doors. I remember my
father saying, "We almost lost her". He had such a
kind way with us.
We grew all the good
garden produce one could wish for in this sandy
loam. Watermelons were especially luscious. I
remember Marion bringing several from the garden and
they would be lowered into the cistern into the cold
water by some contraption. When cooled what a joy to
bite into those really red slices of melon! Many
times we would all go to the wood area bordering on
Lake Michigan and walk and sit on a log listening to
the birds and squirrels and gathering spring flower
which grew along a creek winding about and gurgling
on its way over stones to the lake. There were Lady
Slippers, Cowslips, Jack in the Pulpit, Butter and
Eggs, Verbena, Shooting Stars, Trillium Dutchmen's
Britches, Butter Cups, Anemones. My love for this
particular trek carried on to my adult years and my
husband and children joined me in taking picnic
lunches and wandering about this lovely area. I took
pictures with a movie camera of some of this, which
Bob has today.
The larger home we lived
in at that time consisted of four rather small
bedrooms, probably 10X12, a parlor, a dining room
and kitchen. There was a large woodshed near by and
a milk house with two shallow troughs on either
side, which was constantly fed by running water from
the windmill, which then ran into a pipe that
emptied a large tank used for the stock to drink
from, thus having a very cool place for milk and
butter which was placed into the shallow running
water during the summer months. There was the
outside entrance to the cellar also where canned
fruit, potatoes, apples, cabbage, carrots, and
onions were stored for winters supply. I would truly
like to spend one more whole year just as we lived
it there and in that house which as I have noted
earlier is there just as it has always been. And of
course, there were the smoked hams, sausages, beef,
etc. and always good fried chicken dinners.
Clara Way, my first
teacher, later Clara Way Teale was the mother of
Edwin Way Teale the great naturalist and the author
of many books on nature. As a child he spent summers
with his grandparents, Jemima and Ewin Way who were
our nearest neighbors, about 1/4 mile distant. Their
acreage and ours was separated by a hedge fence. In
that family were Allen, Clara, Winifred, and Bessie.
Sometimes I could go over for a short time. I
remember how well they always treated me. Cookies or
candy and conversation to match my young years. I
remember how beautiful Bessie was. Blue eyes,
natural gold hair, thick and glossy. most beautiful
and curly with a flawless complexion. In later years
I saw her as a young lady. She had become a school
teacher and a friend of Allie Welty still strikingly
lovely. She was killed in an automobile accident
while a young woman.
I remember Smith Hill,
the slowest moving mortal one could remember. He
worked for various farmers. A big husk of a man, not
lazy, but so slow. He was very clean about his
clothes, washing them often and putting them on
again in a somewhat rumpled state. A harmless man
with a simple philosophy of life. His homely advise
and ideas were rich in sentiment and wit and were
the substance of "what Smitty" said in storytelling
from day to day. He was killed by a Michigan Central
train during a sleet storm while walking to Michigan
City along the railroad tracks. I still remember the
loss everyone felt for Smith Hill a unique character
that was loved by everyone for miles around.
I remember a Mr. Henry
from Valparaiso whose business was drilling for
water and putting up windmills to pump the water
which he did in our vicinity on Pine Township a
distance of 18 or 20 miles, which was much too far
for horses to pull equipment for a short stay. Mr.
Henry roomed and boarded with whomever was having
drilling done. Very often he and one of his men
would spend evenings at our home playing the organ
with mother and all singing the lovely old songs. I
loved hearing them. The men had excellent voices.
Sometimes Aunt Julia would be there making a
quartet. They sang "The Old Rugged Cross", "Auld
Lang Sang", Tenting in the Old Campground", and that
very sad one "I'll Be All Smiles Tonight Love".
Onward Christian Soldiers, Look Away Look Away,
There'll Be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight.
Mother has a lovely voice. Father never sang that I
know of.
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