Growing up without a Mama

Mother. Mama. It's one of the first words a baby learns to say. On the battlefield, it is often one of the last words uttered by the mortally wounded soldier. A mother is central to a family and especially to a young child. She is their world. She feeds, loves, protects, teaches, binds wounds, inspires, and passes on the values and traditions that she grew up with.

I go to a Tuesday morning bible study at my church, Calvary Chapel of Escondido. We are currently doing a bible study on the book of Esther. Beth Moore, the author of the study, made a point about how young Esther grew up without a mama. She pointed out how devastating that would be for any child and how formative that would be for them. It would shape their character and follow them for the rest of their lives.

Sitting in the study, I couldn't help but thinking about a few of my ancestors that I knew off the top of my head that grew up without a mama. I wonder how the loss of such a key person in their lives shaped who they grew up to be?

Jesse Clark Osgood (1837-1918)

His mama, Abigail Clark, died when he was 19 months old. His father, Thaddeus Osgood, remarried three more times. (I don't know...if I was wife #4, I'd think twice!) Jesse was raised by his mother's family, the Clark's. The 1860 census shows him living with his Uncle Jesse Clark and Aunt Lydia rather than his father. We also have several letters he wrote to his Clark relatives during the Civil War. I don't know if there was any bad blood between Jesse and his father, or step-mothers. There isn't any kind of family lore to say that there was. I can't help but wonder though, why he wouldn't be living with his father.

Jesse and his mama shared the same birthday, March 4th. I wonder if this made his birthdays bittersweet?

Sarah Warriner Hamilton (1843-1937)

Sarah's mother, Mary Stebbins, died when Sarah was 3 years old. Her mother died shortly after giving birth to twin siblings on Christmas Day, 1846. She died a few weeks later. This was 8 days after one of the newborn twins, Alfred, died. In Sarah's case, her father also remarried. His second wife, Katherine Dewey Collins, died in 1850. His third wife, Julia Blake Beach, was a widow and came to the family with four children of her own. She was a schoolteacher in the town where Sarah went to school. The Hamilton children loved Julia before she became their stepmother. The ten children of the blended family grew up in the love and affection of both Mr. Hamilton and Julia and were very close as brothers and sisters all their lives. In fact, after Mr. Hamilton died, Julia came to live in Florence, Kansas, near Sarah and her family. Julia died there in 1899. It's nice to see a blended family that grew up in affection rather than distrust and bad feelings.

I find it interesting that these first two ancestors that came to mind, Jesse Osgood and Sarah Hamilton, married each other. Losing their mother at a young age was something they had in common.

Robert Craig Graham (1780-1856)

Robert was named for his father, Robert Graham, who emigrated from County Down, Ireland. When Robert Jr. was six, his mama, Mary Craig, died. Robert had three brothers and three sisters at the time. When he was nine, his father remarried another woman by the name of Mary....Mary Cowan. This second Mary and Robert had seven children of their own. From all accounts, the children from the first Mary (Cowan) did not get along with their stepmother as adults. I have yet to document this, but apparently there were legal issues with the estate of his father. Robert married Catherine Crockett and the family moved to Johnson County, Missouri, in about 1834.

The descendants of Robert Graham Sr. with his second wife, Mary, stayed in Wythe County, Virginia. During the Civil War, this line of Graham's fought for the Confederacy, while Robert Craig Graham's grandson, Robert Barnett Graham, fought for the Union. If anyone is interested, there is a great website on the Robert Graham/Mary Cowan descendants in Virginia called Major Graham's Mansion and is worth a look at to learn about the impact Graham's had in that part of Virginia.

Nancy Jane King (1846-1929)

Hannah Magee was 27 when she gave birth to her daughter, Nancy, in March 1946. Baby Nancy was 5 months old when her mama, Hannah, died. This is one family line that I know very little about. I don't know if her 31 year old husband, Ambrose King, remarried. This is one family line that I certainly need to explore further.

Josiah Osgood (1739-1788)

Josiah's mama was named Abigail Day. She married Josiah Osgood Sr., at the age of 18. She gave birth four times before she died. Her last baby was Josiah in 1739. When Josiah was three, his mama died. His father married Hannah Kitteredge when Josiah was 10. But between the age of three and ten, Josiah was without any mother figure.

How did this impact their lives? It's impossible to know for sure. It probably made them have to fend for themselves more and grow up a bit faster. One thing is for sure....it makes me realize how fortunate I am to have grown up with a mama, who still is one of the most important people in my life.

If your mama is still alive, go give her a call and let her know how important she is to you.

On the Homefront-Sarah's Memories of the War of the Rebellion

Sarah Warriner Hamilton, my great-great grandmother, was born in March 1843 in Greenville, Illinois. Her mother died three weeks after giving birth to twins when Sarah was no more than 5 years old.

Sarah attended Montbello College at Alton, Illinois and taught school for a number of years. According to a family history, Sarah could have been an author if time had permitted. She wrote a number of short stories and also wrote the lyrics to a hymn after hearing a sermon on John 3:1-2. It's called "My Advocate" and I'm pleased to have a copy if it. I look forward to having my son learn it.

It is my understanding that Sarah kept a journal. I have yet to locate it in its entirety, but have a copy of a few pages that capture her reminiscences of the Civil War. Enjoy

Part of a writing by Sarah Warriner Hamilton Osgood

To go back to the time, when our boys marched away. I am surprised now, when I remember the erroneous ideas, we entertained (that as we young people), of war. We supposed they would be taken right to the seat of war, in a very few days, and lined up in battle, and that all was needed, to make soldiers out of them was a “suit of blue” a sword and gun; little dreaming of the days of drill and dull routine of camp life, they must go thro(ugh) ere they are ready to meet the foe.

So when it came to pass our soldier boys found themselves settled in camp, not far from home, our hearts began to settle back into their normal condition; and life to move on in something of the old routine, only we missed them so. Buying, and selling. Sowing, and reaping, must still go on, tho hearts are breaking.

Now our boys are sent to the front, their furloughs become fewer, life takes on more, and serious phases, varied with letters from the front, and now and then a visit, of a few days from someone of them.

One, what a happy go-lucky fellow he was—and such extravagant stories he told of life on the Gun Boat Fleet on the Mississippi river. While he was at home he conceived the happy idea of taking all his girl friends to the artists-for their pictures to take back with him. There must have been near a dozen, who, sat for a picture. Between two of the prettiest, he managed to seat himself. They had on those ugly shaker bonnets, the fashion of that time. I could not see the roguish face, trying to peer into the demure face of the girl on his left. It made a very comical picture indeed. After he returned to duty he wrote what fine parties they had, with the girls’ pictures in places of honor. He was another of the heroes that died.

I was in the long, long funeral train, that bore him to his last resting place. I heard the ministers voice as in a dream say, his sun has set while it is yet day.

As the stress of those days grew upon us my father, (than whom a greater Patriot never lived), grew haggard, and old, fast. His great anxieties, for his country, caused him sleepless nights. One incident will take to illustrate his tender heart, for the soldiers. It was during the early days of the war, that the papers chronicled the event, of a young soldier found asleep, while on duty and sentenced to be shot. We all felt greatly exercised over it, but, particularly so, was my father. I never shall forget how earnestly he prayed for the life of that young soldier; as tho he were his own boy. And when news came of the reprieve, there was at least, one heart, full of gratitude.

With what intense anxiety we all awaited news, from the front; and especially if a battle were imminent. In order to facilitate the spreading of the news, a tall flagstaff was raised in my uncle’s yard, in sight of all the county about. Whenever there was news received of a battle the flag was run up. If won by Union forces, it proudly floated from the top of the staff; but if the Union suffered a defeat, then it was run up at half mast. How the whole region watched, for the sign of that flag, and could hardly wait the return of the swiftest messenger, to learn the particulars. Were any of our boys in the engagement? Were they killed or wounded? Were questions we tremblingly asked ourselves. And when our brothers were finally engaged with the enemy, and received severe wounds, and came home to us, we began to feel somewhat relieved from the pressure borne so long.

And so the weary months rolled on, the sky growing darker. And then, the clouds began to lift a little, and then to roll away, and Peace has come again. Our old friend, the flag, that has been a sign, to us all thro(ugh) these trying days---now floats from the summit, we fondly said, never to be raised at half mast again, and we are wild, wild with joy.

But how soon, as our joy turned into mourning. Only a few days, and our flag is floating, at half mast again for our beloved Lincoln lies dead. Dead, did they say? We cannot will not believe it, and that was the way we felt in those dreadful days.

Well my butter has come.