On the Birth of Peter Hansen Burkhardt

My paternal great-grandfather, Peter Hansen Burkhardt, was born on April 26, 1873 in Dybbøl, a small village in what was then the Prussian Province of Schleswig-Holstein. For those of us tracing family lines in this part of Europe, nationality is not straightforward. Dybbøl was Danish since the Viking Age. After the Second Schleswig War in 1864, the village and surrounding area came under Prussian control. When Peter and his twin sister Anne Marie were born, the region remained linguistically and culturally Danish, even as it became part of the German Empire (a federated state lead by Prussia) in 1871. After World War I, Dybbøl was returned to Denmark in the Treaty of Versailles.

In simple terms, the border between Denmark and Germany shifted many times during this era.

Family lore says that Peter went to sea as a young teenager in the late 1880s, joining a merchant ship to avoid conscription into the Prussian army. I learned that Dybbøl was the center of intense battles in the First Schleswig War (1848–1851) and the Second Schleswig War (1864). I understand why Peter and his family would support a decision to avoid serving in an army that defeated their homeland.

An article in the New York Times in 1888 described military training in the Prussian army in this way: “Under ordinary circumstances the German lad steps into the ranks at the age of 20. For three years he serves with the colors, the next four years he is in the reserve, and the following five years he belongs to the Landwehr, another reserve more remote than the first. Of these twelve years the first three are occupied entirely in severe military work.” ~From the blog 19th Century Rhineland

His twin sister, Anne Marie, remained home. In 1897, she married Heinrich Nissen in nearby Sønderborg. I found baptism and burial records that indicate she lost at least three infant children between 1897 and 1909. I believe there were children who survived, since family stories describe letters exchanged between the Nissen and Burkhardt families. I am searching for the records to confirm their lives.

Peter traveled the world before stepping off a ship, in wooden shoes and without a word of English, and opted to stay in Boston. We were told that a young Irishwoman named Mary D’Arcy noticed men teaching him incorrect (or perhaps vulgar?) English and took him under her wing. They later married and raised eight children in Revere, Massachusetts. They lost one baby, Peter, during a cholera outbreak.

Census records trace Peter’s working life over time. In 1900, he is listed as a house painter. By 1910 and 1920, he worked in ice cream manufacturing. In 1920, he is recorded as a homeowner, marking stability in his work and home life. By 1930, he had returned to house painting, and in 1940, he worked for the government as a painter.

Peter died on May 24, 1950, at the age of 77, in Revere, Massachusetts. I do not know where he is buried.

To my father’s mother’s father–because you endured, I am here. I did not know your voice, your dreams, or your fears, yet I know that you lived.

On the Birth of Mary Josephine D’Arcy

Mary D’Arcy’s daughters (standing), May and Grace.
Identities of the seated women are unknown.

My paternal great-grandmother, Mary Josephine D’Arcy, was born in Oughterard, Ireland on March 5, 1871. I do not have a photograph of Mary herself, so I am sharing a photograph of her two eldest daughters, Mary (“May”) and Grace. They look so loving and joyful.

Nana said that her mother was born in Ireland to French parents. This isn’t exactly true. The D’Arcys are believed to be descended from a French family that arrived in Ireland in the 14th century. One of the 14 Tribes of Galway, the D’Arcys were a merchant family who wielded great power. I am sure that story was told down the generations with great pride.

In this branch of my family tree, my father’s mother’s family, I am confronting multiple spellings of the family name. Mary’s last name was D’Arcy, but I have seen Darcy and Dorsey as variations in vital records and censuses.

According to the Irish Civil Marriage Record, Martin Darcy and Bridget Davin were wed on April 15, 1868. He was 24 and she was 22. They were both laborers in Porridgetown, and their fathers Rodger Darcy and Peter Davin are listed as farmers. Porridgetown is a township of Oughterard.

In the 1871 Civil Birth Registry in County Galway, Ireland, Martin Darcy and Bridget Davin registered their infant daughter Mary (my great-grandmother) as born in Porridgetown. Kate Davin was present at the birth. I am assuming that Kate was a female relative of Bridget’s. Seven years later, Bridget D’Arcy‘s death was recorded in Porridgetown. The cause? Uterine inflammation.

Mary D’Arcy arrived in the United States when she was seventeen, possibly with her older brother Rodger. I do not know where she worked, but I do know that she met Peter Burkhardt in Boston, and they married in Chelsea on September 21, 1893. In the Massachusetts Marriage Registry, Mary’s parents are listed as Martin Dorsey and Bridget Davin.

Mary had nine children in 18 years. Her second born, Peter, died in infancy during a cholera outbreak in 1896. Nana used to recite the names of her siblings: Herbie, Marty, Gracie, May, Carrie, Dorie, (she was the youngest daughter, Lillian) and Alfie.

Mary died on March 16, 1927, at the age of 56, in Revere, Massachusetts. I do not know where she is buried.

To my father’s mother’s mother–because you endured, I am here. I did not know your voice, your dreams, or your fears, yet I know that you lived.

Making Sense of My AncestryDNA Results

I received my AncestryDNA results last week and I am learning how to interpret what they actually mean. Ancestry.com identifies “Regions” where my DNA most closely matches their genetic reference panels. None of my Regions came as a surprise, but understanding how they arrive at those numbers has been instructive.

As Ancestry.com explains:

“A reference panel is a set of people whose DNA is typical of DNA from a certain place or group. When you take an AncestryDNA® test, we compare your DNA to the DNA in our reference panels to identify your ancestral origins. For example, to determine your ancestral regions, we find the reference panel DNA that’s most similar to each segment of your DNA. Then, we assign your segments to the regions they resemble.” — Ancestry.com

In other words, Ancestry.com assigns my DNA to regions even if my ancestors didn’t live in that exact location. My Quebec assignment, for example, appears because my genetic profile closely matches the modern descendants of the French founders who settled there in the 1600s. That lines up with what I know from my family history.

My report also shows small percentages from England and Norway, even though (as far as I know) none of my ancestors came from those countries. These small percentages simply mean I share slight genetic similarity with the people in those reference panels.

Another important point: we inherit a random mix of DNA from each of our parents. So the heritage I know from family records won’t necessarily line up with the DNA that I randomly received. And my parents inherited a random mix from their parents. I will never get 100% accuracy. There will be missing pieces.

With that in mind, I compared what I know about my family history with what my DNA report showed:

Irish: Four of my great-grandparents were Irish. That makes me 50% Irish. My mother’s grandparents were Irish immigrants, and on my father’s side both his maternal grandmother and paternal grandfather came from Irish families. My DNA shows 57% Irish, specifically from the Munster and Connacht provinces.

Québécois: Two of my maternal great-grandparents were descended from Quebec immigrants. I am 25% Québécois. My DNA shows 16%. From the results-by-parent chart, it appears that I inherited a larger share of my mother’s Irish DNA than her Québécois DNA.

Danish: My father’s maternal grandfather emigrated from Denmark. I am one-eighth, or 12.5% Danish. My DNA shows 11%, which is remarkably close.

German: My father’s paternal grandmother was born to German immigrants. Another one-eighth or 12.5%. My DNA shows 10%, a second close match.

In the end, my DNA results didn’t reveal any big surprises—but the report did add depth to what I already know. The results show which parts of my heritage were passed down to me, and in what proportions, while also pointing to historic communities that my ancestors belong to. It’s a starting point for more research, and a reminder that DNA is one more tool for understanding where we come from.

The photo above shows my teenaged daughters walking through a tunnel in Ireland in August, 2002.

Learning about Champlain

A book, audiobook, and laptop on a table.

I grew up in Massachusetts. As a child, my understanding of history was Massachusetts-centric. The Pilgrims. The Salem Witch Trials. The Boston Tea Party. The Battles of Lexington and Concord. I had one World History class in high school. I retained little beyond Martin Luther’s 95 Theses, posted in 1517.

My understanding of the world broadened in adulthood, yet those early themes of migration, injustice, and revolution still shape my interest in history.

All my ancestors arrived in the United States from Europe or Canada between 1840 and 1890. The Canadian side came from Quebec to Maine; the Québécois branch had originally migrated from France in the 1600s. During recent travels to Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia, I learned about the French explorers and settlers who shaped that region.

A visit to Port-Royal National Historical Site sparked a renewed interest in Samuel de Champlain. Years ago, I had purchased this book at a used bookstore in Brattleboro, VT:

Fischer, David Hackett (2008). Champlain’s Dream: the European Founding of North America. New York: Simon & Schuster. ISBN 9781416593324.

At over 800 pages, the book overwhelmed me, and I put it aside. After visiting Port-Royal, I borrowed the abridged audiobook version from my local library. The storytelling quality was the charm. I listened while driving—my attention drifted at times—but the narrative rekindled my interest in returning to the full book.

Since listening to the audiobook, I’ve watched several videos featuring Fischer discussing his research methods and findings. All three modes—visiting the site, listening to the audiobook, and watching the author speak—are helping me digest the dense history of Champlain’s journeys and the early French settlements of Nova Scotia and Quebec.

I plan to return to the book and give myself time to absorb its deeper descriptions of the period.