On the Birth of John Baptist Mutty

Photo from Dana Pierce, Lineage of the Thibodeau, Mothee-Thibodeau, Mutty family : the ancestry, events, and accomplishments of the Mutty family, 1985.

My maternal great-grandfather, John Baptist Mutty, was born on March 31, 1861 in South Brewer, Maine. This photograph comes from a lineage booklet compiled by Dana Pierce, my first cousin once removed. Known as John B., my great-grandfather was the eldest of twelve children in a French Canadian family rooted in both Québec and Maine.

John B.’s father, John Thibodeau Mutty, was born in Maine to Québécois parents, and his mother, Mary Selena Boulette, emigrated from Québec around the time of her marriage in 1860. Like many French Canadian families in the mid-19th century, they crossed the border in search of steady work. From 1850 to 1930 one million Québécois migrated to the United States. Thousands of Québécois migrants settled in Maine’s river towns, where the lumber industry was booming.

The Mutty family’s livelihood was closely tied to that world. In the 1850 Census, John B.’s father is listed as a millworker; by 1870, he was working as a saw filer—a skilled position responsible for maintaining the large circular saws that powered the mills. In 1866, he was granted a U.S. patent for an improvement in feed rollers to circular saws (Patent No. 52,188).

US Patent: 52,188. Improvement in feed-rollers to circular saws. John Thibodeau Mutty

The spirit of hard work and invention influenced the next generation. In the 1880 Census, nineteen-year-old John B. is listed as a sawmill worker. In 1883, John B. married Estelle Pooler in Bangor, and together they had six children. My grandfather, Lawrence, was the youngest. The family’s work trajectory did not remain tied to the lumber industry. According to Dana’s detailed lineage, John B. shifted to the burgeoning shoe industry when he had young children.

In 1917, John B.’s brother Victor invited him and their brother Louis to join him in Boston, where he had established a successful manufacturing business producing rubberized canvas for automobiles and fabric for player pianos. Thus, several members of the Mutty family settled in Melrose, Massachusetts.

And yet, Maine remained home in a deeper sense. In his lineage booklet, Dana Pierce recalls attending “Grandpa” Mutty’s wake, and then, on the day of the funeral, walking to the railroad tracks near St. Mary’s Grammar School to watch the Bangor Express pass by:

“to pay my last respects as ‘Grandpa’ sped by—and perhaps to wave to my grieving mother who was aboard the train with other members of the family.”

John B. died in Melrose, Massachusetts, on May 26, 1936, at the age of 75. He is buried in Bangor, Maine.

To my mother’s father’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.

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.