St. Patrick's Day commemoration with a story from my Irish past

The Fidelia, the ship on which my ancestor Peter Thompson came over from Ireland 

My paternal Grandfather Thomas F. Thompson

The following has been garnered from years of Genealogy research.

The year was 1878; the setting was the scenic riverfront town of Kingston, New York.  Peter Thompson, a charming Irish immigrant was a successful barge owner and Mary Degnan, a native New Yorker was a typical housewife. The couple had four boys and an idyllic life that would soon be shattered by tragedy and a mystery whose ghostly specter haunts our family to this day.  What happened to Peter?

Peter and Mary were my paternal great grand parents.  Since my dad was now in his 90s it was imperative that I try to solve as much of this puzzle as I could.  The first item on this daunting task was locating documentation of their marriage. Unfortunately several years of searching remained fruitless. Their names appeared as the parents on my grandfather’s marriage license, but where was theirs? Why did Mary show up as Degnan on some records, Thompson on others? On these same records Peter’s name was left blank just listing Ireland as the father’s place of birth.  A phrase popped in my head “Common Law” and I found an article that confirmed my suspicion. "Common Law Marriages" were very typical in those days and the number one country where this was used was Ireland where he was from.  This seems like the most likely reason for not finding any marriage record.

With women’s rights practically non-existent why Mary would settle for this type of insecure marital arrangement is another mystery.  I can speculate that either Mary was blinded by Peter’s Irish charm or perhaps already pregnant with their first child.  James was their oldest child, next came Peter, followed by Thomas (my grandfather) and George was the youngest born in 1878.  Some time in 1878 Peter Sr., was piloting one of his barges up the Hudson River to New York city to sell it. The barge was found with a ransacked cabin and no sign of Peter. A New York newspaper for that year listed four unidentified drowning victims that were found at different dates on the banks of the Hudson River. One had a rope around his neck and had been towed by a boat. When the riverbank was close enough the rope was cut ensuring the body would drift to shore and be found. A chill went up my spine. This could be him. Long before any type of accurate forensics could be used, dental records, scars and tattoos were the usual means of identification. With no identifying marks the body would be potentially doomed to a potter's field burial. If that poor fellow was indeed Peter, that is presumably where his body ended up.

Meanwhile Mary with little or no support must have found it increasingly difficult to hold her family together and she sank into despondency fueled by alcohol.  In 1880 she is institutionalized and three of the four boys were subsequently sent to an orphanage. That must have been terrifying for them. One of the top fears of children to this day is a death of a parent and being orphaned.  With no child labor laws in place at the time the oldest, James now twelve, is found on a census working as a boatman. Two of Mary’s relatives, a spinster sister Winifred and bachelor brother Peter Degnan quickly retrieved my grandfather. Why just him, we may never know. Hopefully the other two boys found homes as well, but perhaps not. According to records the only one who eventually had a wife and family is my grandfather who at age 5 had been taken into a loving home and adored. After years of research and in all of the Internet and genealogy sites I could find no one looking for the other three.

In 1885 exactly seven years since Peter's been missing Mary goes to court as he can now be claimed legally dead. While at court she found out there wasn't a will. That provision would have been the only way she would have received any type of inheritance.  Perhaps this was the last straw for Mary. A sudden change in financial status would have made a world of difference. Now she truly had nothing to hope for.  She dropped out of view and my grandfather Thomas never spoke of her. Ironically, in 1885 ten year old Thomas spies Peter's blood relatives enjoying sudden wealth, driving fancy carriages and wearing nice clothes. A rumor was circulating that it was one of his own family members that killed him.  They had something to gain, no one else did.

My grandfather’s life was mostly pleasant. Like any other life it had it’s share of ups and downs, twists and turns. On the other hand I’m sure given any kind of choice he would have much rather remained an integral part of a large wealthy family.  Fate can be cruel and has a way of intervening with it’s own brand of reasoning.  Who killed Peter and why may never be known.  Some mysteries are unsolvable and grow dimmer with each passing year.

Today we can all remember and thank our immigrant ancestors who came to this country with nothing but hopes and dreams of a better life.  Whether they were lucky or not they made us all who we are today.

Happy St. Patrick's Day