I chose a cabinet card photo for my second post because I want to blog in somewhat of a chronological order. Tintype photographs (shown in my last post) were the precursor to cabinet card photographs, so called because people used to display them in their cabinets.
These pictures were printed on thick card stock and used from 1870 until about 1900. The one I have shows a mother with her baby of approximately one year of age. “Ah yes”, I said knowingly. My great-grandmother Eleanor Sly was born in 1874 so this must be she with her mother, Catherine Dusinberre!
That’s when I fell down the rabbit hole.
It turns out that the Dusinberre family has a very long history in Warwick, Orange County, NY, as do the Sly family, Catherine’s in-laws as of 1868. I spent night after night into the wee hours digging up newspaper articles, census records and genealogy websites looking up our family tree.
I’m hooked, friends! I always found genealogy interesting but until I made that “discovery” I didn’t realize what kind of joy and excitement could come from pursuing it. Laugh if you will, but I feel proud like the mother in this picture and also a little dazed, like the baby:
They make a lovely pair but they are not Eleanor and Catherine. Darn it. My undoing came from the photographer’s name (which I couldn’t make out) and address printed at the bottom of the photograph.
With a little search engine magic, I discovered that Mr. Lundelius, the photographer in Port Jervis – *gasp of air* – did not open his studio until 1885. Eleanor would have been 11 years old then, far too old to match the baby in the picture.
The only other clue I have is August Lundelius’s obituary, from the Port Jervis Gazette, dated February 3, 1905. In other words, the baby in the picture would have been born some time between 1885 and 1904.
I will copy a portion of Mr. Lundelius’s obituary here for interest’s sake:
In the winter of 1885 he came to Port Jervis, and on the 22d of February of that year, Washington’s birthday, he opened a photographic gallery at No. 78 Pike Street. These rooms he occupied as a studio to the time of his death. Here he studied and worked, and developed the art which he loved so well. New features were introduced, and this gallery became one of the best known in this part of the state.
The name “Lundelius” attached to a picture was a guarantee of fine work. His studio grew in popularity, and Mr. Lundelius endeavored to keep pace with the growing demands of the public by unceasing toll, long hours and hard work. Vacations that he needed were never taken, and his only recreation was the hours with his family or with the societies of which he was a member.
It is believed this too close confinement had much to do in sapping the life functions and laying the foundation for the illness which finally proved fatal.
And…that may just be the universe tell you and I to take it easy. For my part, I will take the weekend off from ancestor hunting in order to spend time with the (living) members of my family. Meanwhile, if you recognize the people in this picture, please let me know!