by Florence VV Davis (Br. 7)

To non-genealogists, the National Archives in Washington, DC, may sound like a dusty, dull place to go. But for a family historian, it can be really exciting, as I found on my last visit.

I knew my great-grandfather Isaac Van Valkenburgh had served in the Civil War. But I hoped to find details about his service -the story behind the facts and figures, so my first stop was the room that houses the veterans' pension papers.

When Isaac's file was brought to me, it was thick--much thicker than the files had been for my other two great-grandfathers. I couldn't imagine why! The first sheets of paper seemed routine. First was Isaac's pension application, giving the date for his marriage to Maria Louisa Huyck and the names and birth dates of their children. His discharge paper was next, giving full details of the outfit he served with and the duration of service.

The next paper was more intriguing - a page from the Senate calendar of the 59th Congress. On Feb. 5, 1906, Bill S, 3507 had been passed, granting Isaac Van Volkenburgh (note a requested change in spelling!) a pension increase from $12 to $30/month because he was totally disabled and "greatly in need of relief." Accompanying this paper was a letter, written by Isaac's wife (Maria Louisa Huyck VV) requesting the increase and explaining that he was now blind and ill and could not work. The letter also mentioned that a number of townspeople who could vouch for Isaac's honesty had also written, supporting his claim. I was impressed - the US Congress had come to my great-grandfather's aid! Now I was even more eager to see what else could be in this still very thick pile of paper.

The very next sheet brought a new surprise. According to a three-page letter from the Department of the Interior, Bureau of Pensions, dated July 8, 1912, a woman named Hattie VV was claiming half of that $30 pension. It said that Isaac had married her in 1908, but 3 years later had walked out on her, rented his house so she could no longer live there, and left her helpless and penniless. In addition he had forced her two young sons by an earlier marriage to leave the house; he was extremely stingy; and he was "quarrelsome and a chronic faultfinder." This information having been corroborated in part by " the testimony of several apparently credible witnesses," the Bureau invited Isaac to furnish his own sworn statement, backed by testimony of two or more credible witnesses, in defense of his pension. He was given 15 days in which to do this.

H-hmm. Something seemed fishy! The letter requesting his pension increase had said he was so blind that he needed someone to lead him about. Who was this Hattie and how had she come on the scene? And how could he have managed to kick her out of his house, given his disability and ill health? This account was beginning to sound like a soap opera!

The next paper was Isaac's affidavit, defending himself and replying to her charges. According to Isaac, Hattie had come in 1907 to keep house for him. After several months she had asked him to marry her, not vice versa (as she had alleged). At first all was well but then problems arose. Isaac accused her of being extravagant. He said she spent over $1800 in three years. He said he couldn't afford this, but she claimed she couldn't live on less.

In the matter of her clothes, Isaac pointed out that he was blind so he couldn't tell about the quality of her clothing. "She went to the store and got what she wanted," he said. "I always paid her bills." He estimated having spent "about $150 on her clothing -- shoes, dress goods, and dressmaker bills", rather than the $20 she had claimed.

As for the boys, Isaac said he had never asked either one to leave. It was Hattie's idea that Roscoe, the older one, go to her oldest daughter in Watervliet where he might learn a trade and also attend night school. Isaac not only agreed, he paid for the boy's expenses and travel. Roscoe came back at the end of the following summer, again lived with his mother and Isaac while going to school in the winter. He finally left to take a job in Watervliet. The younger boy, Seymour, lived with them until five months before they separated. At that time Hattie's daughter asked the boy to come live with them and help her husband on the farm. Isaac actually borrowed some money so that he could pay Seymour's expenses for the trip.

The rest of the papers mostly supported either the "he said" or the "she said" parts of the story. The small town of Cannonsville appeared to be split down the middle. Even Isaac's family couldn't all agree. His son-in-law, Grant Layman, swore that Isaac's story was the true one. He told of being called by a neighbor to pick Isaac up because Hattie had led him over there and left him. But one of Isaac's daughter-in-laws sided with her stepmother. "Hattie was very economical in her housekeeping," Eliza said. "She only had a few plain dresses. And she did all in her power to make his life pleasant."

The pastor of the local church said he had urged Hattie not to leave her husband, but to no avail. She said "nothing on earth could induce her to stay." The postmaster took Hattie's side as did several women neighbors. One woman said that Isaac had seven children who often came to visit for days at a time. " If he wanted to save money, he should have told them to stay home," she said.

The owner of the general store, however, was in Isaac's corner. He pointed out that Isaac had bought Hattie a large flock of hens and paid for their food. Hattie was free to keep any proceeds from the flock and he had bought a large number of eggs from her. "She bought clothes for herself and the boys with her egg money," he added. "No family on my books in Cannonsville lived any better than this family did," Mr. Judd said. " She did all the trading and every three months, when his pension check arrived, Isaac paid the bill in full. He never found fault with any bill she ran up."

The wrangling back and forth went on through the summer. Hattie left town to live with her daughter. Isaac stayed with one of his children. Finally the government's decision came. Hattie had not proved her case and was therefore not entitled to any amount of her husband's pension.

Was the decision fair? That question may have continued to divide the little town of Cannonsville for some time. Probably there were truths on both sides and the real story lay somewhere in the middle. Eventually Isaac came back from his daughter's and found a place in Cannonsville where he could board. "I missed my church, " he said. There he stayed until his death on Christmas Eve, 1914. He was laid to rest beside his wife, Maria, and in his will there is no mention of Hattie, even though I could find no record of their divorce.

Stories like this one make names and dates come alive. For me this is what makes tracing my family so interesting.

This is from our nifty ideas for the millenium department. After completing the information on your 2000 census form, make a copy for your own genealogical files. These census records won't be released until 2075, so your descendants have a 75-year head start!

from Reunions Magazine, Spring l999