A Note to My Readers: At first I intended to write primarily to my fellow historians…to share my experiences researching my family and to share analyses and tips…to be scholarly with a personal perspective, if you will. Over the past two years, it has occurred to me that I am channeling the matriarchs of my family and their love and pride in their family history. I am fortunate that my mother saw fit to trust me with her childhood memories, the Williams-Purdy family bible, boxes of photos from the 1800’s, the days of the Roaring Twenties when she was a young “flapper”, the “Depression”, World War II, the Fifties…my childhood days, and the Sixties, my teen years. She kept my report cards…from kindergarten on up. I thought she was “weird”. Now I am so grateful. I suppose at some point I told my growing children about me…and my mother…maybe threw in an ancestor story or two. But then they grew up and there was so much to tell and they are off into the busy world and making their own history.
Oliver S. Williams, son of Dr. Parvis A. Williams and Lorinda Smith, was born in 1816 at Applegate Corners…just a short walk down Mecklenburg Road from the home of his future bride, Mary Van Dorn. Mary’s parents had migrated from Somerset County, New Jersey and built a tavern in 1820 on what was then (as it is still) called Van Dorn corners. Oliver took Mary as his bride on July 3, 1842 and the pair set up house and a business on land given to the newly weds by Dr. Williams.
In 1843 Oliver and Mary welcomed their daughter, Mary Lorinda to their Enfield farm, followed by Henrietta, Elizabeth and Emiline. The joyful early years were followed by a series of heart and spirit breaking events. Before 1850 Oliver’s home and business had burned to the ground and part of the farm was sold at a Sheriff’s Sale. In 1853 Henrietta and Emiline died within a few months of one another. Their grandfather was a well known doctor, not just in Enfield, but in New York state as one of the charter members of the New York Medical Society. It must have been a terrible experience to tend to his granddaughters to no avail.
But…as my mother would always remind me…”we are from good pioneer stock” and so the Williams family persevered and indeed flourished. Daughters Mary Lorinda and Elizabeth…Libbie to family and friends…knew a comfortable life, a good education and the love and support of the Williams, Smith and Van Dorn families. And the confidence that comes from the knowledge that they were “from good pioneer stock”.
So much of the family lore was passed down to me by my mother…along with Libbie Williams’ family bible, a smattering of old photos and Libbie’s petite rosewood chair. Mom spent a good deal of time with her grandmother in the three story home perched on the hill on 307 Eddy Street in Ithaca. Afternoons of tea in the formal parlor crowded with marble topped tables and delicate china were accompanied by the childhood stories of “Mrs. E. A. Smith”, as she loftily referred to herself. Tales of Libbie’s grandfather, Peter Van Dorn, and the early days of the tavern were a favorite. Libbie’s father was a bit of an enigma, however. That they were considered “well-to-do” was a certainty and if one had any doubt, Libbie would straighten up her tiny frame, pat her perfectly coiffed white hair and with the air of a “lady born of the manor” voice, soundly cast doubt from your mind.
“Farmer” has a connotation of a hic, a hayseed, a bumpkin, a rube…that can get in the way of historical knowledge of the folks in an agrarian culture of the 1800’s and the boon of opportunities that our young nation provided. Though Oliver’s occupation was listed as “farmer” in each of the federal census records, I knew from my great grandmother’s musings to my mother that Oliver had been some kind of speculator and that he had an adventurer’s spirit. I am not sure what my mother thought that meant…just that it was another impressive word her grandmother would roll around her tongue. And one never interrupted Grandma Smith when she was favoring you with her childhood reminiscences.
Oliver’s obituary tells that he spent some time in California. Was he prospecting for gold like his brother-in-law Norman Van Dorn? Or part of the land speculators of the early 1840’s and 50’s? Young men from that area bought land in the rich Sonoma and Napa valleys during that period. Perhaps one. Perhaps both.
If you Blink, You will Miss It.
While I found the Van Dorns and the Williams and the Purdys (Libbie’s future husband’s family) all in their Enfield homes and businesses in the New York state census of 1865, Oliver S. Williams and his family were nowhere to be found.
Was the census record incomplete? Not unheard of. Or…were they living somewhere else? Why would a successful farmer and produce buyer leave his boyhood home? The New York state census of 1865 is not indexed so a researcher has to know precisely where an individual lives and winnow down to the location and read each enumerated page to find them. As my mother would say, “Huh!”.
Being a genealogist…a family historian…requires a laser focus at times…and the agility to temper it with global perspective. A chain of events will impact family members and provide all manner of clues.
Case In Point
In 1866 Mary Williams’ father, Peter Van Dorn died. In his 1867 estate probate record, Mary’s residence is given as “Corning, Steuben County, New York”. Had I only focused on Oliver as the pivotal figure, I would have created my own brick wall. It was with this critical piece of information that I went to familysearch.org and delved into the 1865 New York state census in the city of Corning, Steuben county, New York.
And there they were…Oliver, Mary, Mary Lorinda and Libbie with their servant, Ralph Reynolds, on page thirty-one. The family was living in their wood frame home valued at a $3000.00 which in today’s commodity value would be $41,000.00…and one of the most expensive homes in the Corning area.
Oliver S. Williams of Enfield, New York, had moved his family to live in Corning, New York and had become a petroleum agent in Oil City, Pennsylvania. A speculator, if you will.
By 1870 the family was back in their Enfield home. Mary Lorinda had married dashing Colonel Albert Johnson and Libbie was now Mrs. Elbert Purdy.
Oliver S. Williams died in his Enfield home in 1887 and daughter, Mary Lorinda, would die at the age of 45 the next year leaving behind her husband, Albert and twelve year old daughter, Libbie Mary Johnson. That same year Libbie Williams lost her husband, Elbert Purdy. So Mary Van Dorn Williams packed up her Enfield home as did her daughter, Libbie Purdy and moved to Ithaca where the two women oversaw the raising of my grandfather, Burt Purdy and his brother, Wilmot.
Mary Van Dorn Williams died in her daughter’s Ithaca home on Pleasant Street in 1901 at the age of eighty-five. She had fallen and broken her hip the year before and never really recovered. Libbie had remarried to widower Charles R. Smith. Upon Charles’ death in 1913… from that day forward she became Mrs. E. A. Smith…each letter and word pronounced distinctly from the other. I wonder if I was the first to reclaim her as “Libbie” in scores of years. When Grandma Smith died, she was ninety-two years old. She died in her bed, stubbornly propping her head up with her hand. She hadn’t laid down and died in all the years of highs and lows and I guess she wasn’t about to give the Grim Reaper much due either.
My mother was born in Ithaca..as was I…and the pull of that place seems to be stronger for me every day. The Eddy Street home
is long gone…razed by Cornell University to make room for one of its buildings, but my older cousins and brothers remember it…and Mrs. E. A. Smith well. I was born seven years after her death so she is alive through my mother’s stories and those of “the boys”…my cousins and brothers. These days we all share stories and memories of our parents and Ithaca and go back periodically to see one another from our scattered homes across the country. I like to think that Libbie would approve. Her grandchildren…”good pioneer stock”.
Authors Note: Much of what I know about the illustrious Libbie Williams…daughter of Mary Van Dorn and Oliver S. Williams…wife of Elbert Purdy and with the self anointed title of “Mrs. E. A. Smith”…comes from the precious moments my mother would share with me when I was young. I dearly wished that I didn’t just listen with youth’s restless mind, but then the young girl that was to become my mother, no doubt, sipped her tea and dreamily watched the dust motes drift in the parlor while her grandmother gave up her most precious treasures to her granddaughter. Her childhood memories.
And so I write. For my children and my grandchildren.
Author, Historian and Genealogical Researcher
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