More Greenleaf Stories

We all carry, inside us, people who came before us

~ Liam Callanan, The Cloud Atlas

the silver and goldmsmith

David Greenleaf, Jr. (5C6X), was the great-grandson of the Reverend Daniel Greenleaf (3C8X) who gave up his ministry in Yarmouth, MA to open an apothecary shop in Boston. We wrote of Daniel and his wife Elizabeth Gooking Greenleaf in our "The Greenleafs" post. We wrote about David, Jr.'s father, another David (4C7X), in the same post. David, Sr. built a house in Norwich, CT which is now on the National Register of Historic Places.

David, Jr. was born in Norwich, CT where, in 1778, he was apprenticed to silversmith Thomas Harland. By 1787 David was in Hartford, CT where he married his wife, Anna Jones. He opened his own business in Hartford ca. 1788 in a shop "a few rods north of the State House. . ."

David, like many entrepreneurs, used newspaper ads to promote his business. Through his ads, we can follow the course of his business. Below are two of his ads, the first in 1788 to "acquaint the public" with his fledgling business. The second, from 1792, indicates a flourishing, growing business:

In 1996, David entered into a partnership with jack-of-all-trades, Abel Buell of New Haven CT.  He must have moved into new quarters and took out an ad in the Connecticut Courant to lease out his shop:

According to Wikipedia, "Buell joined with David Greenleaf to fashion some of the first steel swords manufactures specifically for the U.S. government. These swords were later used in the War of 1812 and were in service through the U.S. Civil War."

Three weeks later, David took out another ad in the Connecticut Courant. It appears that his association with Buell kept him so busy he only had time enough for watch repair:

David's next three ads, from November, 1797 to March 1800, make it appear that his association with Buell may have ended and he was back in business for himself:

In 1804, an ad in the American Mercury announced the beginning of David's new partnership with Frederick Oakes known as Greenleaf and Oakes. That association lasted until September of 1807 when an ad in the Connecticut Courant announced its termination.

David did his civic duty as a member of the Hartford Council from 1806 until 1820. It appears that he gave up his watch business ca. 1811 and tried his hand first at dentistry and then in real estate. David died in Hartford, Connecticut in 1835 at age 70.

Below is a sample of his work:

David Greenleaf, inventor

We had another cousin named David Greenleaf (6C5X), this one born in Bolton, MA in 1763. The information on David comes mainly from the Genealogy of the Greenleaf Family by James Edward Greenleaf (8C3X). When David was only 12, he was a signal and drummer boy at the Battle of Bunker Hill. I can find no information on any further service in the war but, in 1779, David decided to make a bold move. James Edward Greenleaf describes his journey:

Leaving Massachusetts in 1779, he went to South Carolina. Procuring a horse he started across the country to the Ohio river, meeting with many adventures from wild beasts and Indians. Frequently in traveling over the mountains night would overtake him, and finding no sign of a habitation, he would dismount, select a tree with low branches, tie his horse to a swinging limb, climb the tree, taking his saddle with him for a seat, and would then buckle himself to the tree with his surcingle, to prevent falling if he should drop asleep. Frequently the wolves made doleful howling around the tree, frightening the horse; and the cold would be so intense that he would often have to descend from his perch and run around the tree, clapping his hands, until thoroughly warmed. When he reached the river he took a flatboat and descending the river landed in Natchez, Territory of Mississippi, then a province of Spain, about the year 1780. He arrived in Natchez in 1790. He served six months under the Spanish government against the Indians. After the province was acknowledged by treaty with Spain to be within the limits of the United States, he became a member of the first legislature under the territorial government. He built the first cotton gin in Mississippi about 1795, inventing a turning lathe to sharpen the teeth of the gin saws.

Eli Whitney had invented a cotton gin in 1793 and claimed that with his machine "two persons will clean as much cotton in one day as a hundred persons clean (by hand) in the same time." Our cousin David Greenleaf was also "by nature a man of great inventive genius and a natural machinist." Scottish American merchant William Dunbar, a famed plantation owner, naturalist, astronomer and explorer, praised David's new machine: “The introduction of the rag-wheel gin was fortunate indeed for this district. I have reason to think that the new gin has been greatly improved here. Our latest and best make, injure the staple little more than cards. . .”

David, who did the public ginning in the area, also invented a roller machine used for picking the seeds from the cotton. Later, he would construct a cotton planter and scraper which opened the furrows, dropped the seed then covered the seeds with a small attachment.

In his Genealogy, James Edward Greenleaf relates s story about David's marriage to his first wife. Many of the newcomers to the Natchez area were Baptists who were persecuted and forbidden privileges by the Catholic Spanish Provincial Government. The Baptists were compelled to worship and administer the rites of their religion in secret. The story of David's marriage is told by his wife's nephew, John Greenleaf Jones:

David Greenleaf an accomplished young gentleman from the North, had gained the heart and hand of Miss Phebe Jones. . .but such was their sense of the wrongs inflicted by the Catholic hierarchy that they resolved not to be married by priest or Spanish officer. They. . . believed that the uncle of Miss Jones, Rev. Richard Curtis. . .was as duly authorized in the sight of God to solemnize the rites of matrimony as any one else. . .But no one. . .[was] willing to risk the consequences of having the marriage performed in their house. Arrangements were therefore made for Mr. Greenleaf to go. . .to the village of Gayoso . . .and there procure the license from the proper officer. Then, considerably after nightfall, [he was] to be found on the road two or three miles south of Greenville, and going in the direction of Natchez.

In the meantime the bridal party. . .were to be taking an evening ride in the opposite direction, and, lest some traitorous person might accidentally fall in with either party, they agreed upon a sign and countersign in case all was well; but if any suspicious person had fallen in with either company during the darkness of the night, they were to pass each other in silence. At the appointed time and place the parties met. Young folks, however, must have their fun — something to laugh about afterwards. On meeting, the bridal party announced the mysterious word, but there was no response, and they passed without recognition. " Who on earth can they be?" inquired one, in a suppressed tone. "It's them," said another, "and something has happened." A settled gloom was coming down on that lovely bride and her company, when the young men suddenly wheeled about and gave the countersign. The parties then alighted near the residence of William Stampley and by torchlight, under the widespread boughs of an ancient oak, the marriage ceremony was duly performed. . .The parties remounted, the light was extinguished, and each sought concealment in the privacy of home. A numerous, intelligent, and pious posterity is the result of that re markable wedding.

Phebe sadly died in 1808 but David soon remarried. E. L Greenleaf describes David as "about five feet eight inches in height, thickset, and somewhat stoop-shouldered, with black eyes and black, curly hair, but quite bald in the latter part of his life. He was a man of great strength and energy."

Sometime before his death David moved to Vicksburg, MS, about 60 miles northeast of Natchez. In 1819, he died at age 56 of yellow fever while he was still working on models to try and get patents for his inventions.

David's gravestone was placed in the Redbone Church cemetery by his son Daniel (7C4X). The tombstone, in definite New England style, looks a tad out of place in the Southern cemetery. In 2019, Staff Sargeant Tom Hughes toured the cemetery and had this to say about David's grave site:

In the back of the cemetery is the oldest grave that I've ever found in there. It's the grave of David Greenleaf (born 1763-died 1819). He served as a drummer boy during the American Revolutionary War. He came to Mississippi and served in the territorial legislature in 1814. He died in the Redbone community in 1819.

The inscription on David's gravestone reads: "David Greenleaf. A native of Worcester Massachusetts who was born the 6th day of march A.D. 1763 and died the 14 of oct 1819. An honest man and the noblest mark of god.

Thomas Greenleaf, printer

We wrote about our cousin Thomas Greenleaf (5C6X) and his adventures at Forton Prison in England in our "Revolutionary Stories VI" post. After escaping the prison dressed in women's clothing, Thomas returned to his publishing business in Boston. In 1785, he made a move to New York City to manage The New York Journal. Two years later he was able to purchase the Journal which he put out once a week. True to his ever rebellious nature, Thomas soon began publishing material opposing George Washington's Federalist government.  From the publication Commentaries on the Constitution, Volume XIII we learn that:

The Journal became so biased, in the eyes of Federalists, that Greenleaf felt obliged to defend his publication policy. . .the Journal was so inundated with Antifederalist material that Greenleaf was forced to publish an extra issue. . .Finally, he announced. . .that the Journal would become a daily. . .He declared that in this time of “crisis” people needed to be well informed about the new Constitution. . .Greenleaf intimated that a “free and impartial discussion” of the Constitution depended upon the daily publication of the Journal. . .

As an Antifederalist newspaper, the New York Journal was second only to the Philadelphia Independent Gazetteer. . .Such a policy brought Greenleaf under severe Federalist attack. One Federalist questioned his independence. . .He also described Greenleaf as “brainless,” “a poor thick-sculled Creature". . .Others simply cancelled their subscriptions. Finally, on the night of 26 July 1788, a mob broke into Greenleaf’s shop and destroyed much of his type. Because of these losses, the last daily issue of the Journal appeared on 26 July. Publication resumed five days later, once again as a weekly.

In 1791, Thomas married Ritsina Quackenbush and, in 1795, he began a new venture, the Argus, an advertising newspaper. Sadly, Thomas died only three years later of yellow fever at age 43.

The first yellow fever epidemic in the United States hit Philadelphia in 1793, killing almost 5,000 people. By 1795, the fever had reached New York prompting the creation of the first Board of Health Department. New York struggled with the epidemic from 1795 to 1804. According to a Baruch College publication on NYC disasters, "[t]o prevent the spread of yellow fever in NYC, action was taken to quarantine boats coming from Philadelphia." The article went on to describe the virulent nature of the disease:

Upon infection, most victims would experience headaches, followed by severe exhaustion, high fever and slowed heart rate. This period was followed by a remission stage and then by delirium. During the delirium stage, victims acquired a characteristic yellow hue on their skin and pupils. In final stages, a vomiting of black bile occurred and was followed by death.

Thomas left Ritsina with four children and his printshop. The plucky woman not only took up the challenge of both papers, The New York Journal and the Argus, but also published an almanac and began bookselling and bookbinding businesses to boot.

Joseph Greenleaf and the Portland Head Lighthouse

Our cousin Joseph Greenleaf (5C6X) did his part in the Revolutionary War and was rewarded for his service with an appointment by George Washington himself as the first keeper of the Portland Head Lighthouse.

From To the Lighthouses: A Path to Nationhood by Matthew Wills we learn that:

One of the first things the new United States did in 1789 was to take on the operation of existing lighthouses and the building of new ones. Coastal beacons—some in then-remote locations—would become tangible symbols of the new American government, markers of nationhood in both literal and metaphoric senses.

In 1789, a dozen already existing lighthouses from the coast of Maine to Georgia were federalized by “[a]n Act for the Establishment and Support of Light-Houses, Beacons, Buoys, and Public Piers.” By 1800, the federal government had added nine newly built lighthouses in various locations along the United States coast. The first of these was the Portland Head Lighthouse in Maine and its first keeper was our cousin Joseph.

According to the site Lighthousefriends.com:

Portland Head Lighthouse, situated on a rocky point on the west side of the channel leading to Portland Harbor in Maine, has a history that reads like a Who’s Who from the early years of the nation. It was the first lighthouse completed by the United States government, and is the most visited, painted, and photographed lighthouse in New England. One keeper took financial advantage of the area’s draw, another enjoyed visits with a famous poet, while yet another thought it the most desirable place he could serve. And some believe at least one former resident has never left.

Portland was a booming town at the end of the 18th century even though Maine wouldn't become a state separate from Massachusetts until 1820. In August 1790, Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton allocated $1,500 for the completion of the Portland Head Lighthouse. President George Washington, in order to save money, asked that the tower be built from local rubblestone, which could be “handled nicely when hauled by oxen on a drag.” The original design called for a fifty-eight foot tower but that was later changed to seventy-two feet for better visibility. In late 1790, the lighthouse was completed with a small dwelling house built nearby.

In a letter written January 7, 1791, Washington appointed Joseph Greenleaf as the first keeper of the Portland Head Lighthouse. The light, powered by sixteen whale-oil lamps, was lit on January 10 with a dedication by the Marquis de Lafayette. In lieu of a salary, Joseph was given the right to live in the keeper’s house and make a living by fishing and farming in the area. For a year and a half, the system seemed to have satisfied Joseph but, by June of 1792, he threatened to quit for lack of funds. He also complained that, during the previous winter, ice on the lantern glass froze so thick he had to melt it off. When the government decided to allot him a salary of $160 a year, Joseph agreed to remain in his position at the lighthouse.

Sadly, Joseph wasn't able to collect his salary for long. Two years later, he died of a stroke while rowing his skiff across the Fore River. According to his obituary in the Eastern Argus, Joseph had “faithfully discharged his duty to the satisfaction of those who occupy their business on great waters.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow visited the lighthouse often and even included it frequently in his poetry. He wrote that, from the lighthouse tower, "[a]ll the myriad islands of Casco Bay and beyond are spread in a wondrous panorama: twelve other lighthouses can be seen, their beacons flashing through the night."

The lighthouse is so beautiful, I've included five photos and paintings of it. The first photo, taken in 1859 and now housed in the National Archives, is probably true to what Portland Head looked when Cousin Joseph was keeper there. The second and third photos show the lighthouse today after undergoing renovation and reaching its full height of 72 feet.

Painting by Jennifer Branch

Painting by Lisbeth McGee