Rowland Ward - Battle of Wilderness

 

When I first saw this picture of Rowland Ward, I was confused by his appearance.  It looked as if his beard was growing out of his mouth. Who is Rowland Ward?

Rowland was born on March 31, 1818 in Briggs, Lincoln, England, Wrawby Parish. He first married Alvria Vedder who was 14 years younger than he in 1846. They had two daughters, Harriet and Eva. Rowland became a Naturalized citizen of the United States in 1854. By 1860 we see Ward, a farmer, with milking cows, sheep and grew wheat, corn and oats. Alvira died on March 7, 1888.

One year and one month later on April 8, 1889, he married Amelia Benson, my 2nd gr grandmother's (Eliza Benson) sister. It appears it was her first marriage.

Rowland joined the army, Private 4th Heavy Artillery, September 1862 and became a Union soldier serving in the Civil War. He served in the bloody Battle of the Wilderness from May 5 1864 to May 7, 1864. Then on August 24, 1864 he was badly wounded at Ream's Station, Virginia that disfigured him for life. His lower jaw and chin were completely blown off, destroying the floor of his mouth along with the soft tissue right down to his neck and carrying his teeth away. Horrifyingly, leaving nothing to hold his tongue in his mouth, only left to hang down his neck.

Rowland was admitted to the Lincoln Hospital in Washington, D.C. Many surgeries were performed by military surgeons who said, "It was the most severe injury sustained by any soldier during the war." Ward was photographed at the Army Medical Museum by the order of the Surgeon General, George, A Otis. Three busts were made of his head that remain on display at the museum. Rowland was discharged from the army on June 23, 1865. His speech was always difficult to understand. He returned home to his wife, Alvira.

Rowland went back to farming living in Hunt, Levingston, New York. In 1886, fire destroyed his home caused by a defective chimney. If not for the banging on their door that awakened them, they were able to escape. Everything was lost.

It was reported in the Nunda, New York newspaper on May 28, 1898, Rowland who was now 80 years of age had become incompetent and no longer able to manage his affairs. That it was unknown what he was doing with his $50 a month pension. A jury was summoned to his small farm. After hearing a number of witnesses, Ward was declared incompetent.

Amazing that Amelia would marry a man with such disabilities, yet she cared for him until his death on June 17, 1898. He is buried in Hunts Hollow Cemetery in Portage, New York.

Remembering Babunia

     Antonia  Chicanowicz, a Polish woman, was born in Vilna, Russia in 1894.  From 1795 to 1918 the area was under the Imperial Russian Rule and it had a strong grip on the Polish people.  They were not allowed to speak Polish on the streets and the stores could only post signs in the Russian language. 

Russia during this time was made up of Lithuanians, Jews and Pols.  All three were striving for cultural domination. The languages spoken were Yiddish, Polish, and Lithuanian.  The man she would eventually marry, John Kopcych, was also born in Vilna, Russia in 1892 and immigrated to America in 1910, at the age of 18, due to the strong hand of Russian rule and cultural unrest and most assuredly searching for a better life.

At the start of WWI in 1914, at the age of 20, Antonia immigrated to America.  It was here that she married John Kopcych and together purchased land on Hayward Place, in Bridgewater, Massachusetts and began a life of farming.  Their first child was a daughter, Stella born in 1916 followed by another daughter, Mary Rose born in 1917.  A son Anthony was born in 1919 known to me as Uncle Tony for he married my father's sister, Bertha. Their fourth and last child, a son, was named Joseph after John’s father.

I came to know Antonia, a widow, at this time, who now lived in her home next door to us on our left.  Her home was built on land owned by her son Anthony, a/k/a Tony. We called her Babunia, which is grandma in Polish. She made great cookies.  I remember sneaking one from her kitchen as a child.

She loved her booze and did imbibe a little too much at times.  I remember her picking up about a two foot long log from her wood pile that she kept for her wood stove and then carry it out to the edge of the street and set it on end. Being a stout woman, she would firmly plant herself down upon the log with feet set apart on the ground for balance and yell “hey” as she waved to the cars as they drove by. A practice we saw more than once, that we found somewhat humorous.

It is believed that a wood stove caused her home to catch fire.  Her son, my Uncle Tony, lived in the house next door to us on our right. 

In the middle of the night, my father's cousin, Eddie, who lived two houses down, woke my parents by banging on their bedroom window.  My mother was startled and screamed for the reflection from the fire made it look like our house was on fire. 

Tony ran through our backyard and toward his mother's home. In an attempt to save her he broke the windowpane with his fist in an attempt to reach her. He believed he heard her scream for help. It was a valiant effort in futility for the house was totally engulfed and the flames much too hot.  Tony sliced his hand open on the glass and was bleeding heavily.  Knowing he was not able to save his mother, he walked over to our house leaving a trail of blood though the white snow.  My mother, while sitting on the back steps, wrapped his hand in a towel to stop the bleeding as the fire trucks, ambulance and police arrived.

Sadly, Antonia died in that fire in 1955, most likely from smoke inhalation as she slept.  I was eleven years old as I looked out our living room window at all the activity and the night air red with fire.  I watched as she was taken away in a black body bag. 

Only the foundation of her home remained.  It stayed that way for decades as weeds and trees grew hiding the caving foundation cement walls before the land was sold and a new house was built.

Heartbreaking Misfortunes

House and Contents Destroyed by FIRE
Middleboro Gazette, September 4, 1931

A fire that started from an overheated chimney destroyed the home and furnishings of Malcolm Smith, Plymouth Street in the North Middleboro section Sunday night while Mr. and Mrs. Smith were only a quarter of a mile away with their children watching traffic roll by on the new state highway.  It is the climax of a series of misfortunes that have visited the Smith family in a short time.  About two weeks ago Mr. Smith who had been employed in a tea room near his home, was put on part-time and then followed the death of Richard, their 10 month old son last week. (pneumonia)

Sunday night after supper the family went for a walk to the new road to see the automobiles and when they left their home everything seemed to be all right.  It seemed but a short time after when a neighbor discovered heavy smoke coming from the house.   He sent a telephone call to the central fire station and tried to get in to save some of the furniture but was driven back by the flames which spread with great rapidity from around the chimney to all parts of the house.

When Engine 1 with Deputy Chief Owens and crew arrived after the five mile run, the house was enveloped in flames and it was readily seen that nothing could be done to save it.  The water supply from a well near the house was soon exhausted and the Chief directed the attention of the firemen to prevent the spreading of the fire to other nearby property.  The furniture in a nearby home was removed but later as the danger subsided was replaced in the house by neighbors.  Sparks from this fire communicated to the roof of another house but it was quckly extinguished by a formed bucket brigade from a nearby well.

All the belongings of the Smith family and furniture stored in the house were destroyed and it is understood that the property was not fully insured.  The Smiths are now living with the family of Walter Savard.

Autoists driving on the new state highway (route 18) were attracted by the fire and many left their cars on that road and walked to the fire creating one of the worst traffic jams ever seen on this new highway.

Mary Ann Pierce and Malcolm Leroy Smith
My Grandparents