Unplanned "Adventures" of Michel Messier dit St. Michel, My 8th Great Grandfather

Merriam-Webster defines adventure as "an undertaking usually involving danger and unknown risks" or "an exciting or remarkable experience." Today, our adventures tend to be the latter. They are positive things in our lives, like my solo-trip by car from St. Louis, Missouri to Arizona and New Mexico this past summer. That was truly an adventure! 

My ancestors' adventures were different. They were frightening, life-altering experiences. It's hard for me to think of the things they endured using the term "adventure." This is especially true for my French-Canadian ancestors. They came to the wildest places in North America, broke ground, and established families. They traveled down rivers and lakes, deep into the unknown interior of what is now the United States, and settled there too. Imagine how remote their tiny villages were in comparison to those on the Eastern Seaboard. They didn't live next to their indigenous neighbors. They lived among them. They intermarried with the friendly tribes and fought with their adversaries.

Michel Messier dit St. Michel was one of these men.

The Tragic Lives of James and Hannah Lowe Flint, My 3rd Great Grandparents

My family tree is full of everyday people. They are not royalty. They are not great war heroes. They are not celebrities of popular culture. They would largely be forgotten if not for the efforts of people like you and me - the family historians. I admit that at times I wish for those great stories and great connections to things we learn in school, but I also realize that it's the contributions made by the common men and women that make our country and our world into a functioning society.

Some of my ancestors struggled and, sometimes, they made decisions I cannot begin to understand. This week's theme "Context" provided me an opportunity to better examine my third great grandparents, James and Hannah Lowe Flint. Their lives did not end well. I first wrote about them in October of 2014 HERE.  James died at the age of 78 after he fell down some cellar stairs in a drunken stupor, fracturing his skull. He was found the following day. It's hard not to feel embarrassed about this. He wasn't a hero. What did his drunkenness do to his family? Was he a burden to them? Were they glad he died?

More recently I learned the fate of his wife, Hannah Lowe Flint.

She committed suicide 12 years before her husband's death. 

She drowned herself.

Again, my thoughts were directed at blaming her. Why would she do this to her family? Was she a burden to them? Were they glad or relieved that she died? Was she the cause of her husband's drinking, or did his drinking contribute to her depression?

James and Hannah were born in Manchester, England. They grew up during the height of the Industrial Revolution, in the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution. The city boomed, but the working class suffered. There were food riots, protests, and, eventually, reforms. James and Hannah did not wait for the reforms. A few months after their first son was born, they left for Philadelphia, where their other 8 children were born, including twins who died at birth.

Sometime between 1850 and 1860, James and Hannah moved to St. Louis, Missouri. James was a blacksmith and engineer/machinist. He made steam engines, or at least placed advertisements for them. They were poor, members of the working class.

On the surface, James and Hannah escaped the working class struggles of Manchester. They started a new life in America where they raised their family. But in all likelihood, all they did was change their location. There were working class struggles in the United States too. 

They may have regretted their decision. They may have missed their family at home. It's even possible that Hannah did not want to come, knowing she may never see her family again. By the time she killed herself, 6 of her 9 children had died. 

I do not know the full context of the lives of James and Hanna Lowe Flint. I do not know all of the details surrounding their decisions. I probably never will.

So who am I to judge? 

James and Hannah were my 3rd great grandparents.

I'm proud of them for having the bravery to leave everything they knew to 

move to a new place - twice.

I'm proud of them for trying to create a comfortable life, even if they weren't successful.

I'm proud to call them family, because I wouldn't be here without them.

The Kienlen Plantation

Christian Frederich Kienlen, my 3rd great grandfather, had an interesting life - a true rags to riches story. He was born in 

Marbach am Neckar, in the Kingdom of Wurttemberg, in 1799, the son of Johann Gottfried Kienlen and Marie Charlotta Schemp Kienlen. He was trained in the family business. He was a confectioner.

In 1815, in Indonesia, Mount Tambora erupted. This was, and still is, the largest volcanic eruption in recorded history. The world's climate changed suddenly, and the following year, 1816, is known as the "Year Without a Summer." 

 While Mary Shelly wrote Frankenstein and  John Polidori wrote The Vampyre, people of lesser means were starving. Conditions in Wurttemberg were worse than in most places. People there resorted to eating moss, grass, and tree bark, and a mass exodus soon followed. Christian left his family and went to the United States as an indentured servant. That's a story for another day.

Christian eventually made his way to the boom-town of St. Louis. He was the first confectioner in the city, and his name is listed on many land deeds of that period. In 1837, however, he auctioned off his confectioners' tools and bought 100 acres of land in the wilderness of St. Louis County. It was here, in the area now know as Wellston, that Christian and Marie Louise Moreau Kienlen moved their young family. 

According to family lore provided by my father, Richard L. Kienlen, Christian had a store on the St. Charles Road (now Martin Luther King Drive). He sold provisions to people going west. We still have the key to this store, which Christian's grandson George had nickel-plated.

Although I have found no evidence that this store existed, I have learned about his plantation.

According to my dad, the Kienlens built a large, 2-story brick home. There were even stone lions out front guarding the porch. At one time, there was a sketch of the house, but it disappeared when in the possession of my grandparents. Kienlen Avenue in the Wellston area of St. Louis County was the driveway through the property to their home.

In 1868, Marie Louise Kienlen sold 66 acres to Erastus Wells (for whom Wellston is named) for $17,000. The deal included the family home. Mr. Wells then built a three-story mansion on the property. His son Rolla Wells, one-time mayor of St. Louis, included this photo in his 1933 book Episodes of My Life:

Peeking from behind the left side of the house seems to be a brick, 2-story home. I can't prove this is the old Kienlen home, but it very well may be. Sadly, both homes burned down in later years.

This transcript from a 1965 KSD radio broadcast about Wellston mentions the Kienlen home:
"In 1868 Wells purchased a country home in the area which now bears his name. Located a few blocks north of Easton Avenue, the spacious house, with wide verandas extending across the first and second stories, had been the farm home of the Kienlen family. The driveway which led to the house is the present Kienlen avenue, on which stands the Wellston City Hall. The handsome brick residence burned to the ground in 1893, after which the country property, with its orchards, gardens, and vineyards, was subdivided into small home sites." 

Now we have conflicting evidence. Did Christian Kienlen built the house in the foreground above, or Erasatus Wells. It's really hard to know, but the orchards, gardens, and vineyards were probably started by the Kienlens. The home pictured seems to be of a later period than Kienlen would have built it, but I'm no architecture expert. The house behind the house is more likely.

So what do we know about the plantation? The Federal Agricultural Census of 1850 gives us some clues. This census lists what was produced in the year ending June 1, 1850, so it reflects the harvest of 1849. At that time, there were 50 improved acres and 50 unimproved acres. The cash value of the farm was $20,000, a lot of money in 1850. They had 4 horses, 4 milk cows, and 6 other cattle. They had 4 sheep and 20 pigs. They produced 200 lbs of butter. 

They had grown 800 bushels of corn, 200 bushels of potatoes, and 95 tons of hay. They also grew 400 lbs of cotton and 1000 lbs of sugar cane. (The sugar cane surprised me.) They had $100 worth of produce from their orchard.

Christian lived at this site from 1837 until his death on December 31, 1851. His wife continued to live there until she sold it and moved in with her daughter Julia Kienlen Brokmeyer, wife of  Missouri Lt. Governor (1877-1881) Henry Brokmeyer. 

So what became of this land? Here's a little project I did a few years ago.

Interestingly, in 1905, construction workers building a house came upon the Kienlen family cemetery. I did not know this existed, and I now have another lead to follow. I assume they found and removed Christian. He and Marie Louise had children who died young, and those may be the other burials.  The article is also proof that Rolla Wells is an imperfect source of information. He was incorrect in saying the Kienlens got their land from the Spanish government. In 1837 this was the state of Missouri, in the U.S.A.