No. 48

The Elders in 1844 for Philosophy

Dear Stewart,

Your uncle Charles Brother was born on August 10, 1844. He was the son of sheriff, merchant, and miller Henry Brother and the quiet but well-known Mary Ann Pratt, who was herself born in the by now old home at 22 W. Morris Street in Bath, New York.

Because your uncle loved me, and knew that I was without a family, he shared with me these stories of being raised in a home filled with real people, complicated souls, not characters, but they were kindred spirits of drunks, criminals, teachers, philosophers, and sometimes bookended by black, white, and mulatto servants, who taught them what it was to live like book ends, or to be put on a shelf, ready for utility, together with the mill workers and bakers, many but not all who made debate rigorous. They tossed hot potato what was in the news: political, religious, theological, progressive, economic, and academic and innovative.

I imagined Charles being happy to toss then, as he was happy to toss a roll later, without fail, when he visited us. In doing this, he gave me hot morsels, and I took off with them not as if they were table scraps of bread, but sparks. His touch and love for me turned everything about him into fireworks in my head. And as he talked about his youth, I sat at the table for hours laying on the butter.

It was as if one of those traveling preachers, coming through the burnt-over, was sent my way with a torching spirit and I began to write.But not only did I write down what he said, I wrote to you, my son, and for this moment, that you may inherit your history when you were ready.

I would, taking my turn, stock the pantry of ideas and stories for a kind of library for when you were hungry.

I imagined Charley as the youngest, holding onto the bottom of his caregiver’s skirts, drowning in their bosoms and diverse remnants and fabrics. He told me that this was when he learned to make his own vests and pantaloons, starting on the floor because the girls took too much space on the table. Later he took on as an apprentice with Scottish tailor James Sutherland.

As his sisters told stories and sewed, they made faces at him for his smart comments. While they held him by the dome of his pants, his brothers threw him, then ditched him. His mother babied him, especially after her last child—Anna—died when Charles was four years old. For that reversion, he stayed on a bit long at home, according to your mother. Moving to Iowa had nothing to do with that leaving, she said, but then we all know that she spoiled him even more so than anyone!

They called him “Charley” so as not to confuse him with his uncle and namesake, New York Assemblyman Charles S. Brother.

That Uncle Charles stayed in Ontario County to manage the large family estate near Stanley and Seneca. He assured his brother (your grandfather) Henry, who wanted to open general good stores and mills in the region, not just Bath, that Charles would stay on at the old farm and split his time between there and Albany. He would help their mother, and their two unmarried, unprepared, and bereaved sisters accept their roles as guardians of six young children. He would help Henry understand what was happening with their influence and interests in logistics, taxation, and transportation.

Charles would even make time to continue the next session of the Philosophical Society, established by Henry and his friends on November 9, 1823. Now it may sound strange that I would know the date, but Charles was ever the cataloger, the librarian, the sorter and had a special trap for details, which afforded him a successful career as a railway postal clerk.

Well, back to Bath: I imagined that, when Charles was born, your grandfather was preparing for the Sabbath at St. Thomas. Since he was a vestryman, Henry held his infant son for the first time as a vestryman, as a select. He remembered his good brother Charles and smiled for their love and trust of each other and in God.

Then, placing his index finger on his infant’s forehead, as if to make a dented, first impression, Henry said, “My boy will be a philosopher, like his fathers, like the elders, like George Washington and the other founding fathers, and like my brother, Charles Brother.”

—Miss Minnie

2025 Copyright Christine Friesel