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The Cassion part of the story

Somewhere in here I have to begin this tale. That's the hardest part. How do you find a starting point in ongoing lives? Since the details of leaving Ireland and journeying to the U.S. are scant to non-existent, this side of the ocean has to be the location of the gate to the maze. And, due to the same lack of information, the story can't begin at the dock. It has to begin in Greenfield, New Hampshire where Patrick Cassion and his wife had a parcel of land. We are at a period beginning right around 1867. This I calculated from the age of James Cassion's oldest child who was born in the U.S.A.

Farms were good sized pieces of land at that time, because of the inefficiency of agricultural practices (so our modern agriculturists tell us). From the perspective of the Irish it would more likely play out that having a great deal of land of your own was a mark of wealth and freedom. But, it takes an understanding of the life of the Irish back in the "old country".

Some of that can be understood if you look back for Cassions in the “old country”. The only one left on Irish soil was Elizabeth, who was widowed and that may be the reason she remained when everyone else left. I don’t know. What I do know is that the British Census of 1881 finds her a seamstress in Dublin, Ireland while her children, from the oldest (19) to the youngest who was 13 and apprenticed as a wheelwright, all lived in at a single address in Manchester, England. There was no work, to speak of, in Ireland.

Oh, it has to be noted that the Cassions, the Sheas, the Hugrons and the Flynns -- all families of related persons, were Catholics. New Hampshire, a State of staunch old Protestant Yankees, made this a disadvantage. But, the only inconvenience of note -- from the recounted history -- was the lack of a church building. The regional priest used to travel the area and say Mass at various locations, in a certain rotation of Sundays. Weekly church attendance was out of the question, but when the Mass was offered the Catholic Irishmen all attended.

Still, the traveling priest did all the baptisms, marriages, first communions, confirmations, what have you, and recorded all the births, baptisms, marriages, etc. What that meant was that the children born in a given year might not be recorded until the following year, or even the year after. Sometimes harried mothers couldn't recall exactly when they'd give birth to one or another of their children. Certainly no one considered it important.

Understanding that will do much to explain the dates which may differ by a year or two from what someone else knows from an oral history recounted in their branch of the family. I would be most interested in hearing of any such discrepancies. My dates come from having physically walked through the Catholic cemetery in Bennington, NH, and written down all of the dates directly off the stones. The cemetery there is nearly half filled with my relatives. It was a very sad, and soul searching walk I took through that place. I’ve also availed myself of the LDS compilations of public domain records, those are available online – URL is . The Mormons aren’t philanthropic, you pay for the bulk of service. But there are some free services.

My great grandfather, Patrick Cassion (spelled correctly -- without corruption -- was born in 1845. There are many variations of the spelling floating around the countryside. But, that's true of so many family names from all the world's countries. In this particular case, however, it was not corrupted by some inaccurate or bigoted scribe, but rather by the family members themselves. This makes the search more difficult, and – in my worthless opinion – is very annoying. What? Were they ashamed of their forebears? But, the sociological period is really the culprit here. My first experience of the crazy spellings came with a New Hampshire relative who spelled my maternal grandfather’s surname as Mallett. The name is correctly spelled Maillette, per my mother, and my uncle Joseph. Want to bet? I've seen it claimed to be -- off the ship from France -- correctly spelled Maillet. However, that even came into question when I couldn’t find my maternal grandfather’s people in Canada, because of the spelling. My undying gratitude goes to Linda from Massachusetts who has the documented history of the family from Salmon River, Nova Scotia all the way back to the year 16-- something (since I don't have my notes right in front of me now -- I will make up the deficit soon as I can). You would not believe the joy I experienced when I saw this. I nearly wept.

Just as a note of explanation – the more “foreign” your surname the more you were distrusted outside the group (and as my mother said – “thought to be putting on airs” inside the group) in the time. Apparently the why of the changed spellings – to “anglicize?” the family name.

I don't know the given names involved with any of the other families; with the exception of course, of the man who appears to have been my great grandfather’s younger brother. James Cassion’s line looks like this:

Name Relationship Sex Marr Race Age Birthplace

James CASSION Self Male M W 44 IRE
Occ: Farmer Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Julia CASSION Wife Female M W 36 IRE
Occ: Keeping House Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Margaret CASSION Dau Female S W 13 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Catharine CASSION Dau Female S W 11 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Anna S. CASSION Dau Female S W 10 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Mary A. CASSION Dau Female S W 9 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Ellen J. CASSION Dau Female S W 8 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Michael CASSION Son Male S W 6 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Elizabeth CASSION Dau Female S W 5 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

James H. CASSION Son Male S W 2 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Julia E. CASSION Dau Female S W 11M NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Margaret CASSION Mother Female W W 77 IRE
Occ: At Home Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Note: his mother – Margaret – who was 77 in 1880, was living in Greenfield, NH with James and his family. Note: One of those boys (as the story goes) because he did something his father didn't approve, was told to "go and never darken my doorway again" at age of about 14 years. The order was so strict and the man so rigid that the boy was never seen (nor heard from) again. There was a parental edict issued and the boy's name not mentioned. Consequently, I have no idea which boy it was. Goodness, what a pity!

My great grandfather's children were:

Name Relationship Sex Marr Race Age Birthplace

*
Patrick CASSION Self Male M W 49 IRE
Occ: Laborer Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

**
Ellen CASSION Wife Female M W 45 IRE
Occ: Keeping House Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Margaret A. CASSION Dau Female S W 10 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Ellen CASSION Dau Female S W 9 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Alice CASSION Dau Female S W 7 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Patrick CASSION Son Male S W 6 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

May J. CASSION Dau Female S W 4 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

Elizabeth CASSION Dau Female S W 2 NH
Fa: IRE Mo: IRE

* Patrick Cassion -- I was under the impression he was born in 1845. Simple subtraction says he was born in 1831 +/-. There's the confusion about those bloody unimportant dates again. To them it mattered naught, for would-be family historians it's a nightmare!

** Just an aside -- My mother had a fit when a neighbour named her next child after one she'd lost. "You never name children after a deceased predecessor", however naming a child after yourself seems to have been quite acceptable. They had some peculiar superstitions and customs, by any measure I've seen.

While I'm on a roll I may as well add another aside: Notice the ages of children. They are year after year after year....except where they apparently "skipped" a year. I'd be willing to put money it's a fact that those years saw the death of a child, or a miscarriage.

To my eternal shame my generation, as kids, used to make remarks on seeing a woman with children in clear short time. One I remember particularly clearly was, "Oh, now we know what she and her husband like to do. Don't we?"

Neither we, nor the 2 generations who directly preceded us, understood the necessities of farm life. Children were essential. Who else was going to work? There was an incredible amount of work to be done -- ironically -- as the family grew there was more work generated. But, the basic workload was very much "too much for one person" to handle alone. Girls were not discriminated against when it came to farm chores. It was the industrial world that brought the bulk of "sex discrimination".

Back on subject, I recall my mother telling me that her aunt Lizzie (you'll meet her in a bit) was scandalized when she found my mother was once again pregnant the year after the birth of my brother (he was the eldest). Her reaction was even more censorious when my mother was pregnant again the following year. Lizzie thought it was obscene, and truly looked down on my mother for it. My mother -- in my responsibility to defend her -- was a "normal" (abnormal) LADY in her opinions of acts sexual. She was completely and utterly opposed to, repulsed by, and ashamed of human sexuality. She found no joy in having to submit to her husband. BUT, he was her husband, and she was obligated to do what was required of her.

Arghhh!! What an attitude. We should all be grateful that philosophy has fallen by the wayside -- for the sake of the continuation of the human race. What a misery those women created for themselves! The whole idea of s-e-x was abhorrent, not spoken of by polite people, and women who found themselves in such condition were required to sequester themselves for the duration of a pregnancy (another forbidden word) You should have been there the day this writer -- precocious at about 8 or 9 -- said the word aloud in front of my aunt from Boston! Oye ve! One of my sisters must have been expecting at the time. It was nearly my last day on earth. In some ways, it might have been preferable -- I quickly became understanding of the expression "a fate worse than death". My big mouth has always managed to make a pariah of me.

Margaret (called Molly), Ellen Frances (called Nell), Patrick (naturally - young Pat), Elizabeth (called Lizzie), Alice was simply, Alice, as May was only called May. In those days losing a child was a fact of life most families experienced to one degree or another.

Notice, the reference I make to Patrick Cassion as my great grandfather -- he was not the "granddad" type. He was, as my mother described him, a big, burly Irishman. Not a man to be crossed. He was tall, blue eyed, and red haired, with bushy, red eyebrows that grew right down into his eyes. He was superstitious enough not to permit anyone to cut those brows, though he was nearly blinded by them. Cutting them would have been bad luck. He was not about to invite that. Definitely not a man prone to flexibility in his perceptions of the world. He was stern and (I gathered) cold. So many of them were, it's hardly an outstanding feature. People of the time clearly held different attitudes and opinions than the people who may read this. I find no gentleness in any of the stories of him. Yet, I perceive a fairness, and a highly intelligent person behind the stories. He did, though, rule his family with an iron hand. His wife, Ellen, apparently provided a good balance. She was a sweet, kind soul who could set things aside and take time for her children. Not a great deal of time, if peace were to be kept in the house, but enough.

Were they a wealthy family? Yes, by the standards of the day, they were quite a well to do bunch. The farm more than fed, housed and clothed them. There was money for the niceties, things that people less well off couldn't even imagine having. There was china, silver, and good linen for the table. There were horses for drawing wagons, plowing, and general farm work. There were cows, poultry (the aforementioned turkeys, which were a cash crop much as anything else, included), and almost without doubt, pigs. There were vegetables grown right on the property and stored in a root cellar for as close to year around use as could be managed. Vegetables in the garden would naturally have meant venison for the table. The only way to keep the deer(and others) from eating your winter stores was to thin them out. There was an ice house, and a hired man, and more than enough work to go around. It was Mr. Cassion's philosophy that idleness was a catastrophe. One he would not see befall any of his family. So, everyone had chores, and those had better be done and done properly. As to great grandmother's role, it would seem that Patrick Cassion expected his house and children well managed. With so many people in the home there was always much to do.

			Molly's Tale
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