The Chew Turkies

In the past few months, there have been an extraordinary number of turkey references in the Chew collection. In celebration of the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, Leah and I decided to share some of them here.

The first document is selected from a larger group of surveys, agreements, and correspondence regarding a tract of land the Chews owned called "Turkey Nest."



I found this initially interesting because many of the tracts in Delaware and Maryland have "Neck" as part of the name (e.g. "Rich Neck"). I assume that the "neck" refers to the areas where land juts out into a body of water. When I first glanced at this group of documents, I thought this tract was called "Turkey Neck."

A more personal reference to turkeys in the collection comes from Samuel Chew's correspondence. He owned a farm in Maryland that was operated by John Mason. John experienced many upheavals in his work as a farmer--one of the more dramatic situations involved the barn, sheds, house, and hay catching fire. He lost most of his farm, but saved the animals and some of the structures. A relatively minor incident, by comparison, was the death of several turkeys. In his letter to Samuel Chew, he writes, "You may remember my showing you some Turkies I purchased. To my utter dismay, I found. on going out in the morning Two of my pets. dead. Upon investigating I discovered the painters had been here the day before. + had emptied the remains of paint on the ground...the Turkies had eaten too freely of white lead--no other casualties have occurred." (Dec. 1873) A sad tale, indeed.









































All silliness aside, we hope you have a wonderful holiday. A little Chew-inspired card from Leah:

Union and Secession

Just as the Civil War was beginning, Samuel Chew and Mary Johnson Brown were planning their wedding. In the following letter to Eliza M. Mason (married to VA Senator James Murray Mason), Samuel Chew laments that the Masons will not be able to attend his marriage. "I expect to be married on the 20th of June. The mails between you and us, I fear, close tomorrow, and I cannot let the last opportunity of asking you to my wedding pass...though I cannot hope to see you on that occasion. Would to God that our unhappy Country could by that time be in such Peace and tranquility as to allow you...to be with me."

Later in the letter, his focus shifts to the national events that separated their family: "The whole country is full of military ardor. The genius of our People changed in four days from a plodding--moneymaking race to warriors.... Would...that we could hope for 'a more perfect Union.' ... It were good for neither section that one should be victorious and the other broken. The Power of the one must be as fatal to itself as would its misfortunes be to the vanquished....God forbid our Nation this Great Calamity." (Samuel Chew to Eliza M. Mason, May 30, 1861)





In a letter earlier in May of 1861, Henry B. Chew recounts the effects of regional conflicts in Maryland:
"I hardly need tell you of the utter impossibility every where existing in the collection of money Either in way of rent or of other debts owing--Such a financial crisis never before existed, and God only knows when it will terminate." This line rings eerily familiar in 2008, as the stock market dips lower and the Great Depression is invoked almost daily.

Given the financial situation, Henry advises his son that the planned wedding should be modest, and their expenditures minimal.

"My mind is relieved by what you say of the time of your wedding + that my suggestions are likely to be carried out, to avoid expenditure of every dollar that can be saved...at this time of such financial embarrassment. We shall with pleasure welcome dear Mary to Epsom and do the best we can under existing circumstances to render her visit a happy one, although I cannot now have the house so re-furbished as I intended....[I]t cannot be expected that we can have any large festive entertainment at Epsom." (May 16, 1861)



In another letter, closer to the wedding date, Henry B. Chew writes again to Samuel about the financial crisis and his thoughts about the upcoming wedding:
"I am confident that Mr. Brown has good sence enough to understand our true position + to appreciate the correctness of my strenuous advice as to our endeavoring to avoid the expenditure of every dollar that can in any decent manner be saved, on account of the universal distress in the pecuniary relations of all...and considering the uncertainty of the period when peace + prosperity will be restored to our land + nation....I also think Mr. Brown will concur with me in saying you + Mary should not have your happiness interfered with or diminished by any possible thought of postponement of your marriage...nor by your being advised to forego the display + expense of such a fashionable + festive marriage as might have been anticipated at any other time." (June 6, 1861)

As I read through these letters, especially in the context of our current financial situation in this country and throughout the world, I am reminded that people have weathered these fears and uncertainties before. While we may need to pare down to the basics, history shows that we can rebound from these difficulties if we remain flexible.

P.S.

Samuel Chew Jr. (1871-1919) wrote quite a number of letters to his father, primarily from boarding school, but also from locations abroad and during times when Samuel Chew Sr. was traveling. His letters reflect a genuine love and respect for his father and the rest of their family, while also providing an amusing perspective on the mind and occupations of a pre-teen boy of the 1880s. This letter contains one of the best post-scripts I have ever read: "P.S. I have had one misfortune in playing with fire crackers so far and that is setting a tree on fire, trying to make an opossum get out of it's hole." (July 4 [1882])



In a letter from August 23, 1881, Samuel writes very sweetly: "Dearest, I wish you lovely Roses --ect. I do not think they ever get picked ecept when Harry or Mr. Carr picks them--sometimes my eye catches on some roses and then I think how you would pick them or have them picked and then I pick some and wish you were there to help me." He then laments the condition of President Garfield: "I am sorry to say that on Saturday the President was doing quite well and yesterday he went down to gloomy, and today the case is still critticall." His post-script reads "P.S. I hope you will be careful in assending and desending mountains." His father was, at the time, traveling in Europe, and was perhaps taking in some mountain air to improve his health. Samuel Sr. was often on trips to various springs taking the healing waters.

In another letter, Samuel Jr. discusses being scolded at dinner, which caused him to leave the dinner table early. He sends his father love and signs off with the post-script "P.S. Charles shot Tim last night." No further comment.


His sense of humor makes these letters a joy to read. There are many more gems in this series of correspondence.

Of Vice and Men

This letter, from an anonymous "young lady," warns William White Chew about the danger of his vice and offers out the hope of redemption if he becomes more watchful.

"Tell me did you ever think of the dreadful consequences which will accrue if you continue in your folly? At this early period of your existence persons predict your early death. How would you appear at the throne of God after abusing the glorious advantages he has given you, think you ever of this? If you have not, think now...."
She goes on to talk about how her own death might be near, and then resumes pleading with Colonel Chew to change his ways. After all of the talk of finality in this letter, his correspondent closed the letter with this seal, which reads "I Trouble you with a line" and shows one person tying a noose around another's neck.



There are references throughout William White Chew's correspondence to "incidents" that he was clearly trying to conceal, and even hints that he was forced to withdraw from his diplomatic career because of some improprieties. I have just begun processing his papers, and feel myself drawn in to Mr. Chew's mysterious story. I am sure there will be much more intrigue to report.

"I am almost bewildered + know not what I write, documents, I have none to send."

Benjamin Chew Jr. was long-time attorney for Richard and Mary Penn. Over the course of many years, Richard Penn's financial situation worsened--for a time, he relied upon his cousin to provide him with financial support, and later, he caused a great rift in the family by seeking compensation for property he felt he was owed by his father's will. He associated with agents who were able to persuade him to become involved in land ventures that were not to his benefit. At the end of his life, he was mired in debt due to his own decisions and his ill health, which made management of his affairs difficult.

In this letter, Mr. Penn's hysteria rises to a boiling point, and he writes to Benjamin Chew, "Your great friendship towards me has been the cause of my death an event which has not yet taken place as you will see, but I hear it will not be long ere it happens. I have been so much vexed perplexed and disappointed in your not enabling Mr. Coates to put in bail for me....I am told this business of attachment might easily have been prevented at the beginning; that was not done and therefore I must suffer."



In the letter following this, Mr. Penn begins to Benjamin Chew, "I am sorry any thing I should have written to you caused any pain to your feelings. I certainly never meant it. You must attribute it to my distress which accumulates every day....For God's sake, do every thing you can to extricate me + if the Francis family will have the Luzerne lands they must in short, I am almost bewildered + I know not what I write, documents, I have none to send...."

Some bewilderment, indeed! There is a very similar kind of exchange between Mary Penn and Benjamin Chew in 1812, a year after Richard Penn's death. Mrs. Penn appointed another attorney to represent her, and then apologized to Benjamin Chew for hurting his feelings, explaining that she did what was necessary, and hoped that it would not hurt their friendship.

Sorting out Benjamin Chew Jr's Correspondence

Over the past few days, Natalie and I have been sorting Benjamin Jr's correspondence. It was housed in 30 boxes, but now, sorted by letter of the correspondent's last name, it looks like this:


In the background, taped on the wall, is the Chew Family tree that I put together in the beginning of the project to try to clarify relationships between people.


The Chews were prolific correspondents. These tables are filled with letters from Benjamin Chew's family members. If we are lucky, we might be able to tell the difference between Maria and Catherine Chew's handwriting, as they often don't sign their letters.

Eventually (we hope very soon), these stacks will be sorted by correspondent's name and date, and placed in neat folders to be included in our finding aid.

(De)Ciphering Benjamin Chew

Because I am a poet who works with visual elements of the page, I found this letter completely captivating. The lines jump all over the place, and it is hard to tell where one sentence ends and another begins. It is clear that Benjamin Chew (1758-1844) was losing his faculties in the last years of his life, and his later papers document this decline. We likely have this letter because he had someone else make a legible copy to send to his client or friend. Though not as spectacular as some of the beautiful maps the Chews collected, letters like these provide us with valuable information about the lives of the Chew family.