Friday 3 November 2017

My Yankee Side.....a tale from the 1600s - The Bolles Family, with considerable preamble

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     Many folks put a great deal of worth into their pasts.  The Ancestry Inc. industry seeks to convince people that they can Windex the crystal ball on their parlour's settee, and peer into the past.

     As a Southerner and a Texian, much of my life, has in fact, been conducted while walking backwards.  During these very hours, beginning a couple of days and nights ago Cemeteries in Mexico have been filled with millions of people who are leaving gifts to the Dead.   It is a silly, serious, absurd, jumbled, and summarily pleasant agrupation of all nature of peoples, bottles of tequila, tacos de barbacoa and other foods favoured by the deceased who live in the cemeteries, flowers, and serenades by conjuntos musicales  and mariachis who are having jovial, even if slightly demur and respectful, time of it in the Cementerio de San Geronimo (and 100,000 other cemeteries throughout the Republic).   It is ridiculous....and very noble.

A typical ''corona''
1,250 pesos (60 dollars)
Pictured above are a day and
a night scene of the same
cemetery, near the
Guadalajara area.
  Easily, of the 120,000,000 Mexicans, there will have been by the 3rd day of November, perhaps as many a 90,000,000 who have made the annual pilgrimage to the local (or sometimes relatively distant) "cementerio" , also known among the literate and Christian as the "Campo Santo" (Holy Ground).  Our "Man Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday" called to tell me not to call yesterday because he would be about 20 miles away, redressing and embellishing his mother's and several other relative's final resting place.   He will take a "corona" to her grave and lesser, but significant, gifts to his uncles, cousins, and even his worthless father.   Alvaro is one of 9 children...all identifiably of Portugese bloodline save for one "darker" brother.   All are very advanced blue-collar people or successful white-collar professionals.   They are colonial by both lines, having arrived in New Spain during the 1500s, settling in the areas around Puebla and Queretaro.

     Many tales can be included here.  Trying to be brief, I shall state that we always included a stop at the Panteon Municipal de China, Nuevo Leon....because that cemetery was always very "cleaned up and brushed up".  The crypts, graves, and secondary things were always in presentable order, and there were flowers almost always, adorning the graves (recent interments and anniversary flower).  This was a stop normally for people who were making their first trip into the interior of Mexico...an "introductory to urban Mexico, an excursion of three days and two nights, principally centre'd on the Monterrey, Nuevo Leon metroplex.
While this is a Zapotec Indian setting in Oaxaca, it is very
similar to the setting of the racially white lady in China,
 Nuevo Leon who felt that I had failed to allow time
 to take a picture of her son's grave.
This speaks to the nearly total saturation of all of
Mexico during these times of All Souls and all
Saints, no matter the race, colour, or creed.
     We would walk the folks in, while the superintendent and his helper would guide the people over the irregular pathways, and I would give a lecture about the Mexican approach to death, and the proclivity of the people to believe that their ancestors and beloved "others" came and went between Heaven, Purgatory, and their home and hearth of earthly existence on a continuing basis.   There were many, many other topics and questions that would be covered in this 30 minute stop, and then we would board up and continue to Monterrey.   One day, however, after I had told the people that they could sit on the monumentary elements of the graves, and take all the pictures that they wished....my people avoided bothering a lady who was tending to a grave nearby....it was quite recent and very attractive....her attention was due to the 1st anniversary of Death.
      I told the people that they could take pictures of the grave and the lady so long as she had given a nod of permission.  No one took me up on that permission, although the lady's gravesite was really impressive.   As we left, suddenly there was a stall...the superintendent of the Cemetery had told our people to stop...the lady was running after us....shouting politely, "Senor, senor!!!!   Porque no hicieron fotos de la tumba de mi hijo???? (Why didn't the people take pictures of my son's grave?!?!?").
     Of course, what we have here was a failure to communicate...AND, it was my fault.  I knew that that the lady, being a Mexican of the disciplined and cultured class,  would consider the tourists taking pictures of her son's last resting place would be a pride point for her (and her son), I had failed to mention to the group that it might be a good idea to take advantage of the photo opportunity with the actual mother of the deceased and the actual adornment of the grave being so perfectly perfect, especially when it was so close by.  The first affirmation of their right to take pictures was given too softly.  I truly should have insisted. 
     I advised the lady of my error, since I was tour conductor, and begged her indulgence.  My Gringitos all scurried back to the site and took what must have been several hundred photos of the nice and very civilised lady and the grave of her son with flowers and polished fixtures.   The lady refused my 5 dollar (peso equivalent)  gratuity,  (year - 1979).
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      We present all the former because of the Orthodox Calendar (All Hallow's Even, etc.) and to begin to address something that actually happened to my family several hundred years ago.   We confess that much of our ancestry is substantially.....shall we say.....Northern.   We also confess and allow it to be known that much of my "Northern" people were Tories and did retire to safer precincts ( during the ''inconvenience" between the New World Colonists and King George III).   Quite a number were found, during the "Inconvenience" in Ottawa, Sudbury, and Toronto, Province of Ontario.  Some returned to England.

     Going back to my grandfather Newton.....Norman N. Newton...he was birthed to a beautiful, very young girl who was the third wife of my great-grandfather Hubbard (Banty) Newton.   The latter was a farmer, but more especially, a master wood-mechanic.....or a person who could build things such as the famous "covered bridges" and "water-powered grist-mills".
Hubbard (Banty) Newton (1808 - 1867) was known as a perfectionist, a good farmer, but prone to contention....hence the nickname "Banty" as in banty rooster.   He married two sisters in succession...each...the first and then the second....died in childbirth.   Both were, according to the lore of the family, very attractive and intelligent.   They birthed out Charles (first wife 1838) and then (second wife) twins Francis and Frances in 1848 (the girl baby died in infancy), and then Sowell Leonard, (she died days after the delivery of Sowell - 1856).

     After the death of the second wife, as was the custom of those days, a period of grieving and mourning passed and then there were the social pressures brought upon my great-grandfather himself, and from the society in general.  Men died quickly at work and women died quickly at childbirth.....it was the norm in those times.
   Hubbard (Banty) Newton was known to be a well-to-do tradesman and farmer....he had grown sons (one turned out to be a nephew whose parents had been killed in a horse and buggy incident....details are not clear) and he was a person of swagger and pretence-well-founded.
     A widower-preacher coming back from working with the Indians in the Indiana Territory and adjacent areas had a "spare daughter" of 19 years of age.  She was comely and accomplished in her studies, and turned the head of many a young man.
    Since the appropriate time for mourning had passed, Mary Jane Bolles - daughter of her father - and being an adult by the law, married a man in 1857 who was 46 years of age.   This girl's surname connected her with an already lengthy genealogy of well-to-do agriculturists, bankers, religious leaders, and politicians both in America and in their ancestral England.   She was accomplished in the Mohegan language, literate, accomplished in musical instruments and the kitchen, and a general-over-all "catch".    Mary Jane Bolles became an entrant into the genealogy of El Gringo Viejo.  Without her....I would not be.
      She is the one who birthed out Norman N. Newton....in 1860....the grandfather of El Gringo Viejo.   Little did she know that Abraham Lincoln would, in short order and during the next year, when she had a baby by the name of Norman, order the re-supply of Fort Sumter,  a recently obtained property of the government of South Carolina, challenged by the military force of the Unio.
        That State was in removal as a sovereign cohort of the United States of America.   Lincoln brought on the misery from which the United States of America has never recovered.  Emancipation and various laws never could replace the advice of General Robert Edward Lee who said, ".....there is much said about the Negro situation....In my opinion, in regard to the solution to the issues affecting Black and White people, it would be better to allow the mellowing influences of Christianity to solve the problems presented by these things."
     So He, Marse Robert, advised and as he, do I so opine.  
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THE BOLLES (BOWLES) FAMILY IN AMERICA AND ENGLAND:


The Bolles (Bowles) family had their Southern and Northern roots.   The Northern folks who would meet up 200 years later with the Bolles, came in first...in Massachusetts.  They arrived to meet family in 1642, because of over-booking on the Mayflower (laughter in background).
   After establishing themselves and establishing the  township of  what would become the city of Newton, Massachusetts, various of that clan went north and west.  Little did they know that they would meet up with another of their own class and station:  The Bowles or Bolles of both Massachusetts and Virginia.   As a rule...Bowles is Southern, and Bolles is northern.   My line is the Bolles (northern). 

   During a couple of generations, various and sundry members of the Bowles family moved up across the tormented waters, and settled in southern Maine...(as in 'the bounding main').  
       They settled not far from the now-famous Kennebunkport and had considerable interaction with the Indians and the sailors from various nations.   One day there was a very disturbing incident.  It involved a murder and cover-up of a known personality in that area, and the involvement of certain Indians in that murder.
     To speed up our account,  Major (Brevet General) Bolle's relation of the matter (remember that this is 350 years before the present day.  And, it speaks to the fact that Indian and White relations were as positive as they  were negative in many ways in those days.  The court records of the period are still very clear).... Major (brevet General) Bolles follows the court records. Two Mohegan Indians were found in near proximity of the cabin of the deceased store-owner, who had been murdered in his own place of business and home.  
   The Indians confessed to having taken 1 pint of rum from the stores of the business house.  But they declared fervently that they had nothing to do with any robbery or murder.   The declared that they, at times, would take liquor from the store of the owner, but that they would advise him of their "theft'' and liquidate their account.   (basically, an agreement among gentlemen)
     The problem is that the store owner was found to be dead, brutally beaten and shot.   Some of his money and much of his whiskey and rum had been stolen.  These were ebriates but also medicines for the community.  It was very serious charge...and it was complicated by the fact that the owner was  a highly admired man in the community.  There was no cash or drafts to be found in the store.

     The Indians...a sub-group of the Mohegan....were found nearby and arrested.  They were hauled off to jail and interrogation.   Each said that he was not guilty of anything.  Their taking of a bottle of rum was a normal task, and they always paid the silver upon return.  This turned out to be true. 
     Further questioning, lamentably, just caused them to seal their lips.   Their case was complicated because the owner had been struck by tomahawks, in mortal areas....as would warriors.  But the Indians were offended at even being charged and fell mute.

          Some days later, even as they had begun to prepare the gallows for the two Indian offenders, the Bolles's patriarch learned that there were others who had been in the cabin of the deceased.   The olde man went back to the Indians and declared "You people must speak....we have evidence that there were others there before you, and that you went in an took the whiskey and did not even see the body of the tavern keeper."
     Still they did not speak.

   Finally, Frenchman and his Indian accomplice, confessed to the horrid crimes.   They were hanged in due order for a brutal, brutal murder and robbery, less than a week after the trial.   When the Mohegan friends of the Anglo people and constabulary asked, "Why did ye not declare innocence?", they declared that the simple accusation was enough to prevent them from returning to their tribe.

     And that, my dearest friends and detractors, is why I am a right-wing crazy with a door open to all....especially Samaritans and sinners.  

Very, very appreciative of your following (which is becoming considerable), and hoping for a pleasant time at Thanksgiving and the Advent and Nativity Time.   I shall be down at our mud hut, with clients reviewing the southern trek of the Monarch Butterfliies.....and a hundred other rare migratory birds.

     
El Gringo Viejo
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