Mary Louise BRIGHAM (1839-1910)

Pedigree relationship: Me > William R. Compton II > William R. Compton > Mary Louise Brigham Compton (wife of Norris Compton) - my great grandmother.

Mary Louise Brigham was born in Cherry Valley, Otsego, NY on November 11, 1839. She was the daughter of Phineas Brigham and Eliza Johnson.
In the early 1850's the family moved to Elmira, Chemung, NY where Mary finished school. An interesting note in the  Elmira Sunday Telegram from an 1889 article read in part:"It was among the very last days of the old Baldwin street Elmira academy that [Norris Compton] secured his education, and there he met his fate in one who became his wife.... The pupils and teachers of those days are widely scattered now, but wherever any of them are, you may be sure they will remember, certainly, the brightest and prettiest girl of her day, Mary Brigham, blond-haired, blue-eyed, rosy cheeked, Mary Brigham.

She married Norris Matthew Compton on March 6, 1856 in Elmira and the couple had 5 children: Ida Louise (born 1857), William Randall (born 1860), Johnson Brigham (born 1863), Edith Mary (born 1875) and Lena May (born 1879).

Mary Louise Brigham Compton

Some interesting comments about Mary were made by her grandson, John Compton Leffler - son of Lena, for which I am so grateful as it describes her personality and character: "Mary Brigham Compton, wife of Norris, was my grandmother.  Charming, hospitable, a good cook - she nevertheless, presided over her household with real strength. She bore two sons and three daughters.  Aunt Ida was the eldest, the image of her mother, a farmer's wife in northern Illinois, raising five children, working hard in the kitchen, growing her own vegetables, making her own soap, milking two cows, and, with her daughters, feeding 25 thrashers at harvest time.  Number 2 child was Johnson Brigham Compton, who died of TB at 21.  I never saw him.  No. 3 was William R. Compton - prosperous, unhappy in his first marriage, but a generous son and brother.  He was particularly fond of his baby sister, Lena, my mother.  The silver set, marked "C", was his wedding present at my parents marriage in 1898.  There were 16 years between him and my Aunt Edith, who was No. 4.  Not wanting to raise her alone, mother Lena was born two years later.  Grandpa Norris called these two his "buckwheat" crop, because they came later!
Grandma [Mary] Compton did not live too far from us - a few hours by train on the Erie Railroad - and the regular summer visits continued all my childhood. Usually the other aunts and cousins came while we were there.  How grandma took care of us I don't know - but it did make us a close-knit family.
Grandma Compton presided over that bulging household and was definitely the queen.  Her word was law, and we knew it instinctively.  Yet, she had compassion and a real sense of humor.  I remember the time when two of my cousins and I swiped one of Uncle Will's [William Compton, Sr] big, black cigars, and went behind the barn and smoked it - and became very ill.  Grandma was in the kitchen.  She stuck our heads over a washtub, mopped our sweating faces, laughing quietly as she did so.  Then she interceded with our parents, who were about to administer corporal punishment, saying: "I think they've learned their lesson." We had.  I can't smoke a cigar to this day!  But I suspect she also said a word to old "Nor" (as she called him) and son Will about being bad examples.

Her obituary in the Elmira Star Gazette followed her death on May 8, 1910 (2 months after the death of her mother-in-law, Amy Norris Compton):

John Compton Leffler described his impressions of the death and funeral:

"My first experience with death was at Grandma's going.  Mother [Lena] was needed, so she took us out of school and we went to Horseheads.  Aunt Edith was there too, but she did nothing but cry.  I remember the closed door to Grandma's room, the occasional muffled cry of one dying of cancer, the doctor coming and going, and Grandfather chain-smoking cigars as he paced the front porch.  Aunt Helen [Tubbs], Uncle Will's wife, took us kids part of the time across the street to her big house.  But in that hushed house, it was then I learned that men and children had to leave the crisis of life and death to the women.

The funeral, again, a new experience, was a good old-fashioned Methodist funeral.  Grandma lay in her casket in the front parlor - opened only for such occasions of joy or sadness.  Her face was calm and beautiful, silhouetted against the coffin lid.  Old hymns were sung  - Abide with Me, Rock of Ages,  Nearer My God to Thee - we all sang them together.  The preacher talked too long, and quoted too much weepy poetry.  But at last it was over and we got into carriages for the 8 mile drive out to Sullivanville Cemetery.  It was near my birthday.  Lilacs were in bloom. The road was dusty.  The day was warm.  But somehow, there amid the lush green grass of early summer in that old country cemetery seemed to me to be a good place to rest after a hard life."