Sunday, September 5, 2010
VREDENBURGH FAMILY LINE
Wow, the power of the Internet! While researching yet another Elting---yes, I sometimes do other things---I found an entire genealogy for our Vredenburgh family line. For those of us descended from James Henry and Cora Mae (Beere) Elting, Grandpa James' mother was Phoebe (Vredenburgh) Elting, wife of Moses Elting. They resided in New Paltz, NY. I hope to post all the information on Grandma Phoebe's DUTCH family soon.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
THE GATHERING on Historic Huguenot Street
Bevier-Elting House
Historic Huguenot Street, New Paltz, NY
"THE GATHERING" held on Historic Huguenot Street in New Paltz, NY August 13-15, 2010 was a wonderfully successful event . More than 200 cousins and friends enjoyed days of rare mild New York summer weather. It was an amazing educational, entertaining and unique event coordinated by the HHS staff, with assistance from volunteers and Family Association members.
 |
| HHS President and Family Collaboration Committee Chair Mary Etta Schneider visiting at the Friday Night "President's Reception" on LeFevre House lawn. |
Gathering near one of the ancient trees on the LeFevre House lawn.
Gathering around the abundant food available throughout the weekend's activities.
Gathering at the workshops---so many interesting workshops.
HHS Marketing Director Richard Heyl de Ortiz presented this one on African-American history.
Gathering in the LeFevre House Gallery to hear
HHS Curator Leslie LeFevre-Stratton
share the history of the ancestor portraits.
(This is the original home of Ezekiel and Magdalene (Elting) Elting)
Gathering at the ice cream social---a very popular event!
The historical significance of New Paltz's Huguenot Street is just being fully realized.
We descendants are justifiably proud that the homes of our ancestors have been preserved, that our collections and archives are professionally catalogued and subjected to ongoing preservation techniques. We are also very proud that our professional staff is recognizing the importance of not only preserving these amazing examples of American life through the centuries from the mid-1600s, but finding ways to share them in special gallery presentations, programming, tours and publications. We were happy to hear that HHS has been a leader in exploring ways to survive in the current economic situation.
The purpose of this gathering was two-fold:
- to provide an opportunity for the descendants and their family associations to meet together and share in the excitement of being together where our ancestors lived through the centuries, and
- to bring more focus and attention to the financial commitments necessary to continue the presentation of this amazing example of a truly American story.
If you can contribute, or if you know of a foundation that is still issuing grants for preservation and related projects, please contact me at gecastle@cluesonline.com, or call the HHS office at 845-255-1660.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
THE GRAHAM MYSTERY
I've often wondered when I would have time to explore the history of our Graham Clan. My brief attempts to understand the Scottish clan history and to embrace the culture that is so carefully preserved in the U.S through Highland Games and other festivities have left me confused, but still very interested.
The section of our family that resides in Pomeroy, WA, and surrounding areas, has been diligent in keeping interest alive. There are those who have scoured the records to try to determine the family lineage beyond William and Mary (Puckett) Graham, who are buried in the old cemetery at Pomeroy. We are descended from them, but so far there is no proof of who his Graham forebears might have been, despite the dedicated efforts of cousins Kathleen Fitzsimmons and Shirley Johnson. This surprised me as I had thought my records incomplete and planned to ask Shirley how to obtain the rest of the genealogy file.
The annual Graham-Fine Family Reunion was held on June 26 in the little village of Kamiah, Idaho on the Nez Perce Reservation. We heard this time that "we're pretty sure" that William was the son of James Graham, but no paper proof has been identified, so the mystery remains unsolved. There was talk of Ireland and assurance that we are "Scotch-Irish" because Grahams originated in Scotland and then moved into Ireland.
The discussions are interesting and lively at these reunions, not always "on track" with the agenda topic, but definitely an important part of an event that feels like "family"! The shared stories lend new flavor and excitement to what we know, or suspect, our ancestors and relatives might have been up to. I'm grateful to those who work tirelessly on the genealogical mysteries, those who host and prepare for the annual reunion, and those who serve as officers of the group. They do the important work that benefits all descendants and their families.
For those readers who are descendants of Lester and Pearl Smith: We are "Grahams" through Lester's mother. The lineage is: William and Mary Graham, their daughter Ludicia "Louisa" and her husband John Clear; their daughter Margaret and her husband Luther Smith; their son Lester and his wife Pearl (Carlisle) Smith.
Next year the reunion will be at Pomeroy, WA. Date to be announced, but probably sometime in July. In 2012, we'll probably be at Athena, OR during the Highland Games.
The section of our family that resides in Pomeroy, WA, and surrounding areas, has been diligent in keeping interest alive. There are those who have scoured the records to try to determine the family lineage beyond William and Mary (Puckett) Graham, who are buried in the old cemetery at Pomeroy. We are descended from them, but so far there is no proof of who his Graham forebears might have been, despite the dedicated efforts of cousins Kathleen Fitzsimmons and Shirley Johnson. This surprised me as I had thought my records incomplete and planned to ask Shirley how to obtain the rest of the genealogy file.
The annual Graham-Fine Family Reunion was held on June 26 in the little village of Kamiah, Idaho on the Nez Perce Reservation. We heard this time that "we're pretty sure" that William was the son of James Graham, but no paper proof has been identified, so the mystery remains unsolved. There was talk of Ireland and assurance that we are "Scotch-Irish" because Grahams originated in Scotland and then moved into Ireland.
The discussions are interesting and lively at these reunions, not always "on track" with the agenda topic, but definitely an important part of an event that feels like "family"! The shared stories lend new flavor and excitement to what we know, or suspect, our ancestors and relatives might have been up to. I'm grateful to those who work tirelessly on the genealogical mysteries, those who host and prepare for the annual reunion, and those who serve as officers of the group. They do the important work that benefits all descendants and their families.
For those readers who are descendants of Lester and Pearl Smith: We are "Grahams" through Lester's mother. The lineage is: William and Mary Graham, their daughter Ludicia "Louisa" and her husband John Clear; their daughter Margaret and her husband Luther Smith; their son Lester and his wife Pearl (Carlisle) Smith.
Next year the reunion will be at Pomeroy, WA. Date to be announced, but probably sometime in July. In 2012, we'll probably be at Athena, OR during the Highland Games.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Feeling the Pain
Feeling the Pain
By Grace Elting Castle
Over the years I’ve found books here and there that looked as if they might have a bit of historical information that could be included in a family story.
Recently I’ve re-read Palissy the Potter; The Huguenot, Artist, and Martyr and was touched once again by the pain that our ancestors endured as a result of the battles between those labeled “infidel” (Huguenots especially) and the Roman Catholics in France.
This book, written by C.L Brightwell, was published in 1858 by Carlton & Porter of New York. My copy is missing a few pages, has some mottled, some dirty, pages, but the words are important and drawings are exquisite.
There are those who like to remind us that “The Eltings were not part of the original New Paltz Patentees. That our ancestors weren’t “Huguenots.” For some that is true, but for others it is not. For those descendants of Roelif and Sarah Elting, for instance, it is only partially true. The “Huguenot blood” of ancestor grandmother Sarah (DuBois) Elting flows from her father, Abraham, the Patentee, and his father, Louis DuBois, the leader of the New Paltz Patentees. Many subsequent marriages mixed the “Huguenot” and Dutch family bloodlines until few of the descendants of Hudson Valley families can claim to be without “Huguenot” descendancy.
So I share these following quotes and thoughts for the benefit of all who seek to know more about our shared heritage.
“The early years of the little Reformed Church …were very troublous ones. It was established, in the outset, with great difficulties and imminent perils, and those who ventured to enroll themselves among its numbers were blamed and vituperated with perverse and wicked calumnies. The ignorance and superstitions of that age and country (France) were called into active exercise against the adherents of the new faith, and the vilest slanders were fabricated against them, and accredited even by those who witnessed their blameless lives. Most frequently their meetings for religious worship were held during the hours of darkness, for fear of their enemies…They were even accused of wickedness and unchaste conduct in their assemblies; nor were their wanting some ‘of the baser sort’ who said that the heretics had dealings with the devil, whose tail they went to kiss by the light of a rosin candle. Notwithstanding these things, however, the Church continued to exist, and to grow, and after a time, it made surprising increase…”
“There was in Champagne a small fortified town called Vassy, containing about three thousand inhabitants, a third of whom, not reckoning the surrounding villages, professed the Reformed religion. It happened on the 28th of February 1562, that the Duke of Guise, journeying on his way to Paris, accompanied by his cousin, the cardinal of Lorraine, with an escort of gentlemen, followed by some two hundred horsemen, visited the chateau de Joinville, which was situated in the neighborhood, on an estate belonging to the Lorraines.
“The mistress of the castle was a very old lady, the dowager Duchess of Guise, whose bigoted attachment to the faith of her ancestors made the very name of Huguenot an offence to her. Sorely indignant was she at the audacity of the inhabitants of Vassy, who had no right, she declared, as vassals of her granddaughter, Mary Stuart, to adopt a new religion without her permission…the aged woman urged her son, the fierce Duke Francis, to make a striking example of those insolent peasants. As he listened to her angry words, he swore a deep oath, and bit his beard, which was his custom when his wrath waxed strong.
“The next morning…he arrived at a village not far off the obnoxious town; and the morning breeze, as it came sweeping up the hills, brought to his ears the sound of church bells. “What means that noise?” he asked one of his attendants. ‘It is the morning service of the Huguenots,’ was the reply. It was, in fact, the Sabbath-day, and the Reformers, assembled to the number of some hundreds, were performing their worship in a barn, under the protection of a recent edict of toleration. Unsuspicious of danger, there was not a man among them armed, with the exception of some ten strangers, probably gentlemen, who wore swords.
“Suddenly a band of the duke’s soldiers approached the place, and began shouting, ‘Heretic dogs! Huguenot rebels! Kill,kill!
“The first person whom they laid hands on was a poor hawker of wine. ‘In whom do you believe?’ they cried.
“’I believe in Jesus Christ,’ was the answer, and with one thrust of the pike he was laid low. Two more were killed at the door, and instantly the tumult raged. The duke, hastening up at the sound of arms, was struck by a stone, which drew blood from his cheek. Instantly the rage of his followers redoubled, and his own fury knew no bounds. A horrible butchery followed; men, women, and children were attacked indiscriminately, and sixty were slain in the barn or in the street, while more than two hundred were grievously wounded…”
“An extraordinary effect was produced throughout the whole kingdom by the tidings of this cruel slaughter. Among the Reformed party it created a universal feeling of indignant horror and alarm…Each party flew to arms, after putting forth manifestos asserting the merits of their respective causes. The Prince of Conde hastened to Orleans, which he succeeded in occupying, and there the army of the Huguenots established headquarters. In that town the Calvinist lords assembled on the 11th of April 1562 and after partaking the Lord’s supper together, bound themselves in an alliance to maintain the Edicts, and to punish those who had broken them. They took a solemn oath to repress blasphemy, violence and whatever was forbidden by the law of God, and to set up good and faithful ministers to instruct the people; and lastly, they promised, by their hope of heaven, to fulfill their duty in this cause.
“And thus the fearful work began, and tumult, massacre, battle, and siege prevailed. Every town in France was filled with the riot of contending factions. ‘It was a grand and frightful struggle of province against province, city with city, quarter with quarter, house with house, man with man,’ says a recent historian. ‘Fanaticism had reduced France to a land of cannibals; and the gloomiest imagination would fail to conceive all the variety of horrors which were then practised.’’
The atrocities escalated until they culminated in the St. Bartholomew Day Massacre in Paris on August 24, 1572. Most readers will be aware of that fateful day when the river Seine ran red with the blood of Huguenots. The battles continued throughout the country with more than 100,000 Protestants killed, according to historians.
Brightwell’s book includes these comments about that period:
“I shall never forget, continued Pare, ‘the scene, when the broad light of an August day displayed, in all their extent, the horrors which had been committed. The bright, glowing sun, and the unclouded sky, and magnificent beauty overhead; and at our feet the blood-stained waters of the Seine; and the streets bestrewn with mangled corpses. It was too terrible. To crown the whole, it was the holy Sabbath.”
“…Since the massacre at St. Bartholomew the mobs of Paris had become familiar with blood, and a spirit of increased ferocity prevailed. Assassinations, tortures, and executions were frequent, and the extreme Roman Catholic party, to which the city had, from that time, been heartily attached, was pledged to exterminate the Huguenots.”Though the history is convoluted and told differently, as one would expect, by the Huguenots and the Catholics, in 1585, an edict was issued---at the expense of the Huguenots---“…prohibiting the future exercise of the Reformed worship, and commanding all its adherents to abjure or emigrate immediately on pain of death and confiscation. This was no miserable court quarrel; it affected the interests of all, and touched the liberty, faith, fortune and life of every man.”
By Grace Elting Castle
Over the years I’ve found books here and there that looked as if they might have a bit of historical information that could be included in a family story.
Recently I’ve re-read Palissy the Potter; The Huguenot, Artist, and Martyr and was touched once again by the pain that our ancestors endured as a result of the battles between those labeled “infidel” (Huguenots especially) and the Roman Catholics in France.
This book, written by C.L Brightwell, was published in 1858 by Carlton & Porter of New York. My copy is missing a few pages, has some mottled, some dirty, pages, but the words are important and drawings are exquisite.
There are those who like to remind us that “The Eltings were not part of the original New Paltz Patentees. That our ancestors weren’t “Huguenots.” For some that is true, but for others it is not. For those descendants of Roelif and Sarah Elting, for instance, it is only partially true. The “Huguenot blood” of ancestor grandmother Sarah (DuBois) Elting flows from her father, Abraham, the Patentee, and his father, Louis DuBois, the leader of the New Paltz Patentees. Many subsequent marriages mixed the “Huguenot” and Dutch family bloodlines until few of the descendants of Hudson Valley families can claim to be without “Huguenot” descendancy.
So I share these following quotes and thoughts for the benefit of all who seek to know more about our shared heritage.
“The early years of the little Reformed Church …were very troublous ones. It was established, in the outset, with great difficulties and imminent perils, and those who ventured to enroll themselves among its numbers were blamed and vituperated with perverse and wicked calumnies. The ignorance and superstitions of that age and country (France) were called into active exercise against the adherents of the new faith, and the vilest slanders were fabricated against them, and accredited even by those who witnessed their blameless lives. Most frequently their meetings for religious worship were held during the hours of darkness, for fear of their enemies…They were even accused of wickedness and unchaste conduct in their assemblies; nor were their wanting some ‘of the baser sort’ who said that the heretics had dealings with the devil, whose tail they went to kiss by the light of a rosin candle. Notwithstanding these things, however, the Church continued to exist, and to grow, and after a time, it made surprising increase…”
“There was in Champagne a small fortified town called Vassy, containing about three thousand inhabitants, a third of whom, not reckoning the surrounding villages, professed the Reformed religion. It happened on the 28th of February 1562, that the Duke of Guise, journeying on his way to Paris, accompanied by his cousin, the cardinal of Lorraine, with an escort of gentlemen, followed by some two hundred horsemen, visited the chateau de Joinville, which was situated in the neighborhood, on an estate belonging to the Lorraines.
“The mistress of the castle was a very old lady, the dowager Duchess of Guise, whose bigoted attachment to the faith of her ancestors made the very name of Huguenot an offence to her. Sorely indignant was she at the audacity of the inhabitants of Vassy, who had no right, she declared, as vassals of her granddaughter, Mary Stuart, to adopt a new religion without her permission…the aged woman urged her son, the fierce Duke Francis, to make a striking example of those insolent peasants. As he listened to her angry words, he swore a deep oath, and bit his beard, which was his custom when his wrath waxed strong.
“The next morning…he arrived at a village not far off the obnoxious town; and the morning breeze, as it came sweeping up the hills, brought to his ears the sound of church bells. “What means that noise?” he asked one of his attendants. ‘It is the morning service of the Huguenots,’ was the reply. It was, in fact, the Sabbath-day, and the Reformers, assembled to the number of some hundreds, were performing their worship in a barn, under the protection of a recent edict of toleration. Unsuspicious of danger, there was not a man among them armed, with the exception of some ten strangers, probably gentlemen, who wore swords.
“Suddenly a band of the duke’s soldiers approached the place, and began shouting, ‘Heretic dogs! Huguenot rebels! Kill,kill!
“The first person whom they laid hands on was a poor hawker of wine. ‘In whom do you believe?’ they cried.
“’I believe in Jesus Christ,’ was the answer, and with one thrust of the pike he was laid low. Two more were killed at the door, and instantly the tumult raged. The duke, hastening up at the sound of arms, was struck by a stone, which drew blood from his cheek. Instantly the rage of his followers redoubled, and his own fury knew no bounds. A horrible butchery followed; men, women, and children were attacked indiscriminately, and sixty were slain in the barn or in the street, while more than two hundred were grievously wounded…”
“An extraordinary effect was produced throughout the whole kingdom by the tidings of this cruel slaughter. Among the Reformed party it created a universal feeling of indignant horror and alarm…Each party flew to arms, after putting forth manifestos asserting the merits of their respective causes. The Prince of Conde hastened to Orleans, which he succeeded in occupying, and there the army of the Huguenots established headquarters. In that town the Calvinist lords assembled on the 11th of April 1562 and after partaking the Lord’s supper together, bound themselves in an alliance to maintain the Edicts, and to punish those who had broken them. They took a solemn oath to repress blasphemy, violence and whatever was forbidden by the law of God, and to set up good and faithful ministers to instruct the people; and lastly, they promised, by their hope of heaven, to fulfill their duty in this cause.
“And thus the fearful work began, and tumult, massacre, battle, and siege prevailed. Every town in France was filled with the riot of contending factions. ‘It was a grand and frightful struggle of province against province, city with city, quarter with quarter, house with house, man with man,’ says a recent historian. ‘Fanaticism had reduced France to a land of cannibals; and the gloomiest imagination would fail to conceive all the variety of horrors which were then practised.’’
The atrocities escalated until they culminated in the St. Bartholomew Day Massacre in Paris on August 24, 1572. Most readers will be aware of that fateful day when the river Seine ran red with the blood of Huguenots. The battles continued throughout the country with more than 100,000 Protestants killed, according to historians.
Brightwell’s book includes these comments about that period:
“I shall never forget, continued Pare, ‘the scene, when the broad light of an August day displayed, in all their extent, the horrors which had been committed. The bright, glowing sun, and the unclouded sky, and magnificent beauty overhead; and at our feet the blood-stained waters of the Seine; and the streets bestrewn with mangled corpses. It was too terrible. To crown the whole, it was the holy Sabbath.”
“…Since the massacre at St. Bartholomew the mobs of Paris had become familiar with blood, and a spirit of increased ferocity prevailed. Assassinations, tortures, and executions were frequent, and the extreme Roman Catholic party, to which the city had, from that time, been heartily attached, was pledged to exterminate the Huguenots.”Though the history is convoluted and told differently, as one would expect, by the Huguenots and the Catholics, in 1585, an edict was issued---at the expense of the Huguenots---“…prohibiting the future exercise of the Reformed worship, and commanding all its adherents to abjure or emigrate immediately on pain of death and confiscation. This was no miserable court quarrel; it affected the interests of all, and touched the liberty, faith, fortune and life of every man.”
Saturday, March 13, 2010
The Other Book by Victor Elting
It took while, but I've finally located the article I wrote about John Elting and that I promised to post...way back in January!
The Other Book by Victor Elting
(As published in the March 2002 issue of The Historian, official newsletter of the Bevier-Elting Family Association of New Paltz, NY.
Mention the name Victor Elting and most members of our large, extended family will think of his book, "Recollections of a Grandfather." But Victor wrote another, lesser known book---one of sadness, yet a book whose every page exudes the love of a father for a lost son.
The book, simply titled, "John Elting 1911-1941" was privately printed in 1942 as a tribute to Victor and Marie Winston Elting's son, who died when he fell down an elevator shaft in Bombay, India on November 8, 1941. He was only 30 years old.
Some months ago, while surfing on Internet auction sites for anything related to our family's history, I saw a book by Victor Elting advertised. Thinking it was Recollections,I quickly clicked on the description and found it was, instead, this book about John. Fortunately, I was able to "rescue" the book, and when it arrived, I read this explanation in the foreword, "...(this book) is offered as a printed word which in the hands and on the shelves of John's family and friends may serve to keep alive his memory, and by suggestion and reminder renew the joy which they have had in his company. It will be given only to a few, whom he would have wanted to possess it."
It's truly a mystery how such a book ended up on an Internet auction site, but let's consider it a blessing, for it brings information to those of us who never had the opportunity to know this fascinating young adventurer, dreamer, writer---another of our Elting "cousins."
Victor recounted in the book how he and his wife thought to name the baby boy born on June 18, 1911 in Winnetka, IL, "Roelif" for three generations of ancestors of that name, but finally thought better of the plan, afraid of heaping a lifetime of spelling and pronunciation errors on the child. Instead, they chose "John" to honor an old friend, and to honor "the first American Elting, Jan."
This is the branch of the Elting family that has it's own Lake Huron wilderness cabin near a place called "Elting Point" in Michigan. The book is filled with tales from the family's wonderful adventures at the camp. I believe the cabin remains in the possession of Victor's descendants to this day.
Victor Elting was the patriarch of the family branch known in those years as "The Chicago Eltings" and his family lived a life that can only be described as "privileged"---an elegant home in one of the most prestigious of Chicago's suburbs, fine Eastern schools (John attended Hotchkiss, and then Princeton). But it's evident from the book that they were a loving, active and adventuresome family, hit too often by tragedy.
Marie died unexpectedly while on a trip to Paris with John to visit his brother, Winston, who was studying architecture in Paris. She is buried in the Elting Burying Ground in New Paltz. Those who have visited there will recognize the rock that Victor mentions thusly in his little book:
"...In one part (Of the Elting Burying Ground) is a great boulder, on the side of which is a bronze tablet inscribed, 'Family of Victor Elting.' A simple headstone, flush with the sod, records John's mother. "Marie Winston Elting. 1871-1932. Beside it is another. 'John Elting. 1911-1941.' The big rock was found by John and me on the mountain side one day soon after his mother's death and laboriously transported by modern equipment to be set up as the physical expression in the years to come of the unity of our family and of our love of the countryside."
After graduating from Princeton, John worked for the League of Nations in Washington; tried to pursue a career in the Foreign Service, but "forgot" to master French when his father sent him to Paris to be immersed in the language. According to Victor's writing, John "fell in love with an old schoolmate and his very attractive sister, and although they lived in Dijon and made some effort to carry out the program, John was not altogether true to the trust; and they had fun, mostly in English..."
Eventually John landed a job as an Associate Editor at Forbes Magazine in New York City. Anyone with access to old issues of Forbes might want to watch for John's articles. After that job, he worked for The National Association of Manufacturers.
In May 1939, John married Sally Waters Richardson. The next month he accepted a position at General Motors as special clerk in Institutional Relations, then moved up to special clerk on the general manager's staff. "On September sixteenth, 1940, John was called in by the head of the Over-Seas Division and told that they wished to rebuild the magazine known as 'The General Motors' World' and he was asked to undertake the editorship" Soon, there was an offer to transfer to Bombay, India for two or three years, which John eagerly accepted.
On their way to India, John and Sally had a couple of days before the S.S President Monroe was to sail, "so Katherine Hepburn, in her generous and spirited way, turned over to them her brand new roadster, and they drove up to Santa Barbara to see the Howard Eltings. There the last picture of John was taken by 'Uncle Howard'."
Their fairy tale journey of six weeks took them "from California to Honolulu, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Manila, Singapore..." Just a few weeks after their arrival in Bombay, returning home from a dinner party, they found their building in a blackout, and "since the lift was not on the ground floor, John ran up the stairs in search of it and on the second floor found the door open, or at least was able to open it, which indicated the presence of the lift. He stepped through and fell two stories to the bottom of the shaft."
John was buried in his beloved New Paltz, near the large marking stone he had helped his father transport to the Elting Burying Ground.
The stone house in New Paltz was the scene of family gatherings and Victor describes it: "On Huguenot Street in the small town stands the old Bevier-Elting homestead, built in 1698 by a direct ancestor of ours on my mother's side and a few years later sold by him to a direct Elting ancestor. The title has never been out of the family. The charm of the old house and its history caught John's imagination. Afterward (Marie's funeral day) he and I worked out a plan under which we organized a trust under the New York law to take over the house as an historic site. He became chairman of the Board of Trustees, and as his interest developed worked hard with Jess DuBois and Jacob Elting raising funds for the preservation of the house. Before and after his marriage he loved to go there and the village was a real interest in his life. For several years old fashioned Thanksgiving dinners (for) all our relatives enlivened the old homestead, and it was John who gave them much of their spirit..."
The "Finis" of this book is worth recalling in this troubled time:
"There is no end to the story. It is all in the epic of the years. The men of Athens lived and died, some young in battle, some old in wisdom; but all sworn that the State of Athens should be better for their having lived. There was something of the Athenian youth in John, and the world is better for his having lived.
"Who can say what lies in store for the future? It is the spirit that lives on and gives the hope. To this spirit the dead and the living make equal contribution. John has made his gift."
Yes, indeed. He made his gift in so many ways, but for our Bevier-Elting Family Association, perhaps his greatest legacy is the work that he did to preserve the old stone house. We tend to think of those who came before us as "older." Here is proof that it was a very young man who recognized the importance of saving our beloved stone house and joined with other relatives to make sure it happened.
I like to think that Victor would be pleased that his tribute book was "rescued" so that new generations could "know" John. I think that both he and John would be ecstatic to know that new generations of an extended family love and care for their beloved old stone house on Huguenot Street.
3/13/10 note to readers: In later years, this branch of the Elting family donated the stone house to the Huguenot Historical Society for continued preservation.
The Other Book by Victor Elting
(As published in the March 2002 issue of The Historian, official newsletter of the Bevier-Elting Family Association of New Paltz, NY.
Mention the name Victor Elting and most members of our large, extended family will think of his book, "Recollections of a Grandfather." But Victor wrote another, lesser known book---one of sadness, yet a book whose every page exudes the love of a father for a lost son.
The book, simply titled, "John Elting 1911-1941" was privately printed in 1942 as a tribute to Victor and Marie Winston Elting's son, who died when he fell down an elevator shaft in Bombay, India on November 8, 1941. He was only 30 years old.
Some months ago, while surfing on Internet auction sites for anything related to our family's history, I saw a book by Victor Elting advertised. Thinking it was Recollections,I quickly clicked on the description and found it was, instead, this book about John. Fortunately, I was able to "rescue" the book, and when it arrived, I read this explanation in the foreword, "...(this book) is offered as a printed word which in the hands and on the shelves of John's family and friends may serve to keep alive his memory, and by suggestion and reminder renew the joy which they have had in his company. It will be given only to a few, whom he would have wanted to possess it."
It's truly a mystery how such a book ended up on an Internet auction site, but let's consider it a blessing, for it brings information to those of us who never had the opportunity to know this fascinating young adventurer, dreamer, writer---another of our Elting "cousins."
Victor recounted in the book how he and his wife thought to name the baby boy born on June 18, 1911 in Winnetka, IL, "Roelif" for three generations of ancestors of that name, but finally thought better of the plan, afraid of heaping a lifetime of spelling and pronunciation errors on the child. Instead, they chose "John" to honor an old friend, and to honor "the first American Elting, Jan."
This is the branch of the Elting family that has it's own Lake Huron wilderness cabin near a place called "Elting Point" in Michigan. The book is filled with tales from the family's wonderful adventures at the camp. I believe the cabin remains in the possession of Victor's descendants to this day.
Victor Elting was the patriarch of the family branch known in those years as "The Chicago Eltings" and his family lived a life that can only be described as "privileged"---an elegant home in one of the most prestigious of Chicago's suburbs, fine Eastern schools (John attended Hotchkiss, and then Princeton). But it's evident from the book that they were a loving, active and adventuresome family, hit too often by tragedy.
Marie died unexpectedly while on a trip to Paris with John to visit his brother, Winston, who was studying architecture in Paris. She is buried in the Elting Burying Ground in New Paltz. Those who have visited there will recognize the rock that Victor mentions thusly in his little book:
"...In one part (Of the Elting Burying Ground) is a great boulder, on the side of which is a bronze tablet inscribed, 'Family of Victor Elting.' A simple headstone, flush with the sod, records John's mother. "Marie Winston Elting. 1871-1932. Beside it is another. 'John Elting. 1911-1941.' The big rock was found by John and me on the mountain side one day soon after his mother's death and laboriously transported by modern equipment to be set up as the physical expression in the years to come of the unity of our family and of our love of the countryside."
After graduating from Princeton, John worked for the League of Nations in Washington; tried to pursue a career in the Foreign Service, but "forgot" to master French when his father sent him to Paris to be immersed in the language. According to Victor's writing, John "fell in love with an old schoolmate and his very attractive sister, and although they lived in Dijon and made some effort to carry out the program, John was not altogether true to the trust; and they had fun, mostly in English..."
Eventually John landed a job as an Associate Editor at Forbes Magazine in New York City. Anyone with access to old issues of Forbes might want to watch for John's articles. After that job, he worked for The National Association of Manufacturers.
In May 1939, John married Sally Waters Richardson. The next month he accepted a position at General Motors as special clerk in Institutional Relations, then moved up to special clerk on the general manager's staff. "On September sixteenth, 1940, John was called in by the head of the Over-Seas Division and told that they wished to rebuild the magazine known as 'The General Motors' World' and he was asked to undertake the editorship" Soon, there was an offer to transfer to Bombay, India for two or three years, which John eagerly accepted.
On their way to India, John and Sally had a couple of days before the S.S President Monroe was to sail, "so Katherine Hepburn, in her generous and spirited way, turned over to them her brand new roadster, and they drove up to Santa Barbara to see the Howard Eltings. There the last picture of John was taken by 'Uncle Howard'."
Their fairy tale journey of six weeks took them "from California to Honolulu, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Manila, Singapore..." Just a few weeks after their arrival in Bombay, returning home from a dinner party, they found their building in a blackout, and "since the lift was not on the ground floor, John ran up the stairs in search of it and on the second floor found the door open, or at least was able to open it, which indicated the presence of the lift. He stepped through and fell two stories to the bottom of the shaft."
John was buried in his beloved New Paltz, near the large marking stone he had helped his father transport to the Elting Burying Ground.
The stone house in New Paltz was the scene of family gatherings and Victor describes it: "On Huguenot Street in the small town stands the old Bevier-Elting homestead, built in 1698 by a direct ancestor of ours on my mother's side and a few years later sold by him to a direct Elting ancestor. The title has never been out of the family. The charm of the old house and its history caught John's imagination. Afterward (Marie's funeral day) he and I worked out a plan under which we organized a trust under the New York law to take over the house as an historic site. He became chairman of the Board of Trustees, and as his interest developed worked hard with Jess DuBois and Jacob Elting raising funds for the preservation of the house. Before and after his marriage he loved to go there and the village was a real interest in his life. For several years old fashioned Thanksgiving dinners (for) all our relatives enlivened the old homestead, and it was John who gave them much of their spirit..."
The "Finis" of this book is worth recalling in this troubled time:
"There is no end to the story. It is all in the epic of the years. The men of Athens lived and died, some young in battle, some old in wisdom; but all sworn that the State of Athens should be better for their having lived. There was something of the Athenian youth in John, and the world is better for his having lived.
"Who can say what lies in store for the future? It is the spirit that lives on and gives the hope. To this spirit the dead and the living make equal contribution. John has made his gift."
Yes, indeed. He made his gift in so many ways, but for our Bevier-Elting Family Association, perhaps his greatest legacy is the work that he did to preserve the old stone house. We tend to think of those who came before us as "older." Here is proof that it was a very young man who recognized the importance of saving our beloved stone house and joined with other relatives to make sure it happened.
I like to think that Victor would be pleased that his tribute book was "rescued" so that new generations could "know" John. I think that both he and John would be ecstatic to know that new generations of an extended family love and care for their beloved old stone house on Huguenot Street.
3/13/10 note to readers: In later years, this branch of the Elting family donated the stone house to the Huguenot Historical Society for continued preservation.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Family Treasure on E-Bay
A few years ago I discovered a copy of the limited edition book, JOHN ELTING, for sale on e-Bay. I purchased it for a few dollars, probably less than ten. Yesterday, I found another copy of the book listed on e-Bay for sale at $204.00!
Written in 1942 by Victor Elting to honor his 30 year old son who fell down an elevator shaft in Bombay,India during a black-out, the privately-published book was meant to keep alive the memory of a young man with so much promise. Here are Victor's introductory words:
"In the Village of New Paltz, New York, is a little burying ground. It is off the dirt highroad, and is reached by a lane through an apple orchard. The land slopes toward the West, with a beautiful view of the valley of the Wallkill. It is known as "The Elting Burying Ground," and there are buried the bodies and ashes of Eltings of several generations. In one part is a great boulder, on the side of which is a bronze tablet inscribed "Family of Victor Elting." A simple headstone, flush with the sod, records John's mother, "Marie Winston Elting. 1871-1932." Beside it is another, "John Elting, 1911-1941." The big rock was found by John and me on the mountainside one day soon after his mother's death and laboriously transported by modern equipment to be set up as the physical expression in the years to come of the unity of our family and of our love of the countryside.
"This little book is not made of granite, but is offered as a printed word which in the hands of and on the shelves of John's family and friends may serve to keep alive his memory, and by suggestion and reminder renew the joy which they have had in his company. It will be given only to a few, whom he would have wanted to possess it."
When I received the little book from e-Bay several years ago, I wrote an article for "The Historian," official newsletter of the Bevier-Elting Family Association of New Paltz, NY, to share John's involvement in preserving the "Elting Homestead" (now known as the Bevier-Elting House) on Historic Huguenot Street. His dedication to preserving the little stone house and our family's history is a story worth repeating for each generation.
In a future posting, I'll include the article I wrote about John.
Written in 1942 by Victor Elting to honor his 30 year old son who fell down an elevator shaft in Bombay,India during a black-out, the privately-published book was meant to keep alive the memory of a young man with so much promise. Here are Victor's introductory words:
"In the Village of New Paltz, New York, is a little burying ground. It is off the dirt highroad, and is reached by a lane through an apple orchard. The land slopes toward the West, with a beautiful view of the valley of the Wallkill. It is known as "The Elting Burying Ground," and there are buried the bodies and ashes of Eltings of several generations. In one part is a great boulder, on the side of which is a bronze tablet inscribed "Family of Victor Elting." A simple headstone, flush with the sod, records John's mother, "Marie Winston Elting. 1871-1932." Beside it is another, "John Elting, 1911-1941." The big rock was found by John and me on the mountainside one day soon after his mother's death and laboriously transported by modern equipment to be set up as the physical expression in the years to come of the unity of our family and of our love of the countryside.
"This little book is not made of granite, but is offered as a printed word which in the hands of and on the shelves of John's family and friends may serve to keep alive his memory, and by suggestion and reminder renew the joy which they have had in his company. It will be given only to a few, whom he would have wanted to possess it."
When I received the little book from e-Bay several years ago, I wrote an article for "The Historian," official newsletter of the Bevier-Elting Family Association of New Paltz, NY, to share John's involvement in preserving the "Elting Homestead" (now known as the Bevier-Elting House) on Historic Huguenot Street. His dedication to preserving the little stone house and our family's history is a story worth repeating for each generation.
In a future posting, I'll include the article I wrote about John.
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