Scanning and posting genealogy documents, photos, and newspaper clippings is an ongoing process. Posts are in no particular order; please use categories on the right to find specific names or topics. :)

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The Secret Life of Mary Ann Donnely

Just for background, you should know that there are four men named Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri in our family tree:
  1. Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri - the immigrant - born 1823 in Milan
  2. Rev. Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri, Sr. - the only son of the immigrant - some call him Emilio, Jr. but in fact, he went by Emilio, Sr. 
  3. Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri, Jr. - my grandfather's brother, called Dick Cavaleri
  4. Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri III - Dick's son and my dad's first cousin, known as Jack Cavaleri
Years ago, before the internet, I tried to find out more about the wife of the first Emilio.  I already knew her name (Maria Donnely) and her date of death (Sept 1873) but was unable to add to that.

A few months ago I got an email from my dad's first cousin, Jack (Emilio #4).  Talk about changing the course of history!  He had made a connection with another researcher, Linda.  Turns out that both Linda AND Jack are great-grandchildren of Mary Ann Donnely.  How is that possible?  The immigrant Emilio, as evidenced by his writings, was quite the teller of tales.  It now seems that he spun a tale for his own son, who was told that his mother died when he was eight months old.  Turns out she did NOT die but left town, went on to have three daughters, and lived to be nearly 75 years old!

Putting it all together, this is what we have:
  • On January 1, 1873, in St. Louis, Missouri, Emilio Cavaleri (b. 17 Oct 1823 in Milan) married Mary Ann Donnely (b. 1 Apr 1851 in New York City).  
  • Her parents were Elizabeth Keefe Donnely b.1835 and John Donnely b.1825, born in Ireland. The name is written as Donnely and Donelly in various records.
  • Emilio called his wife Maria. 
  • On January 23, 1876, they had a son, also named Emilio. 
  • At some point, she left the marriage and her son. 
  • Emilio the immigrant referred to himself as a widower.
  • Immigrant Emilio and young son moved to Atlanta in 1880
  • Immigrant Emilio published ads* in the Atlanta newspaper in the spring of 1882.  His son was six years old. 
  • Mary Ann appeared in Leadville, Colorado, in 1882, where she gave birth to a daughter, named Mary Alice (Dollie) Cavaleri, on May 28, 1883.  At that time, in Atlanta, her son Emilio was seven years old.
  • Although Mary Ann gave her daughter the Cavaleri name, it is unknown who the biological father of the baby was. At the time of her birth, immigrant Emilio had been in Atlanta since at least March 1882 (newspaper ad) and possibly as early as 1880.
  • Mary Alice (Dollie) had thick, coarse black hair, heavy eyebrows and dark eyes. From his picture and description in his medical records, immigrant Emilio had blue eyes and a fair complexion. 
  • None of this is reflected in Rev. Emilio and his "Story of my Life"; it is obvious that his father never told him the truth about his mother, Mary Ann.
  • Mary Ann married John C. Fisher in Leadville (date unknown). Either she was a bigamist or this was a common-law marriage.  No record of this marriage has been found.  
  • John. C Fisher was an immigrant from Alsace Lorraine, France. He was a saloon keeper in Leadville.  His birthdate is unknown but he is listed in the 1885 State Census for Leadville, Colorado where he is listed as a single miner. In 1884 case 1382 in the Colorado Supreme Court was John Fisher vs. Shields Mining Co. in Lake County.
  • Mary Ann Donnely had two more daughters with John C. Fisher : Isabel Josephine on May 24, 1887 and Elizabeth Frances on June 19, 1888. 
  • In 1898 gold was found in the Yukon and John Fisher left to go there.  Mary Ann put the three girls in a convent in Oregon and followed him to Alaska. She came back to the states without him.  
  • John C. Fisher married a second time and had other children. He lived in Los Angeles; his date of death is unknown. 
  • Mary Alice (Dollie) and Isabel Josephine became nuns.  
  • Elizabeth Frances ran away from the convent and joined a vaudeville troupe.  At age 14 or 15 she had an act called "Little Bessie Fisher" where she dressed like a child and sang.  She became an actress, married Herbert Maxwell Lindley, and they moved to Hollywood and worked in movies in the 20s and 30s.  Her mother, Mary Ann, eventually moved in with them.  Her granddaughter, Linda, is the source mentioned at the top of this post.
  • Mary Ann was living with her daughter, Elizabeth, when she died March 14, 1926.  She is buried in Calvary Cemetery on Hollywood Blvd. in Los Angeles. The headstone reads Mary A. Fisher. 
  • In 1945 when Mary Alice (Dollie) applied for Social Security she gave the names of her parents as Emelio Cavaliera (her spelling) and Mary Ann Donelly, so she believed the story. 
  • Isabelle Fisher (Sister Mary Isidorita) was at the Convent of the Holy Names in Oregon when she died in 1957 and at St. Mary's Academy in Oregon in the 1930 census. 
Linda adds:
I don't know if this was my grandmother (Elizabeth Frances') lies or if she was told this by her mother. Even before I found out about your family's story, I took this with a grain of salt because Mary Ann showed herself to be unstable and pretty much a stalker in her later relationship with John Fisher.
Maybe Mary Ann changed the timeline to give her daughter legitimacy; her son would have been 6 years old in 1882 and would have remembered his mother. The timeline just doesn't work for Mary Ann Donnely's version of the story: Mary Ann was married to an older man named Cavalieri. He was from Italy and was related to the Italian Ambassador. They met in Kentucky, where her father had a horse farm. They moved to St. Louis. She had a son. Mr. Cavalieri beat her continually. She had several miscarriages because of this. She tried to run away taking her son. She was caught over and over. When she got pregnant with Mary Alice in 1882 she decided to leave without her son to save the new baby's life.   Mr. Cavalieri loved his son and wouldn't have hurt him. She went to Leadville, Colorado and never saw her son again. 

*The text of the two ads:
ATLANTA CONSTITUTION - March 05, 1882 A SILK RAISER OF 25 YEARS EXPERIENCE in Italy would like to use his experience and labor with some planters that have wealth and trees to raise silk. No wages wanted, but an interest in the crop. Address or call at 106 Peachtree street. Emilio Cavaleri. 
ATLANTA CONSTITUTION - May 21, 1882 Wanted - Ladies and Gents to know that I have removed to No. 82 Peachtree Street, and this store being very large, I have leased it for five years. I am now manufacturing Mockingbird and breeding cages, the best cages made, and I sell them at very low prices; also window-guards for churches, public and private buildings, and arch arbor trainer, or any kind of crimped wirework to order at Atlanta Wire Works, 82 Peachtree Street. Yours most respectfully, Emilio Cavaleri.

Graduation Day 1918

My grandmother's high school graduation pictures:
Alma Kate Wright
She married my grandfather four months later, a month before her eighteenth birthday!  Wonder if that's why she always advised me to finish college before marrying?

Straw Boater

Not sure when this was taken; guessing in the thirties.  That's my granddaddy on the left, sporting a straw boater.

Cavaleri Family c. 1924

Edwin and Alma Kate with their first two children, LeMargaret and Betty, at the Luther Wright home on Cleveland Avenue, East Point, Georgia.  They lived there until 1930, when they moved to 516 Manford Rd., Atlanta.

Rev. Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri, Sr.

 

Rev. Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri, Sr.

Emilio and Maggie 1935

 
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Dora Davis Reid

Dora was my great-grandmother's older sister and would have been born in the early 1870s.  This clipping is from the Rome, Georgia newspaper.

John Andrew Shaw

SALUDA - John Andrew Shaw, 80, of 1004 Newberry Hwy., died Thursday, July 19, 2007, in Hospice House in Greenwood.  Born in Saluda County, and a son of the late Julius "June" and Sophie Coleman Shaw, he was the husband of Thelma Connelly Shaw. He was an U.S. Army veteran and was a mechanic of Lexington County. He was a member of Hickory Grove Advent Christian Church where he was a member of the Men's Fellowship. Mr. Shaw was a former member of the Old Town Puritan Club and he played in the Shaw Band.


Surviving are his wife of 58 years, Thelma Connelly Shaw of the home, a son and daughter-in-law, George W. and Debra S. Shaw of Batesburg, a granddaughter, Adrienne D. Shaw, a brother and sister-in-law, Robert C. and Eoline B. Shaw of Saluda and a sister, June Mack of Saluda.  A sister and two brothers preceded Mr. Shaw in death.


The family will receive friends from 6 until 8 p.m. Saturday evening at Ramey Funeral Home. Funeral services will be 2 p.m. Sunday, July 22, 2007, at Hickory Grove Advent Christian Church with Rev. David McCarthy and Mr. F.G. Scurry officiating. Interment will follow in the church cemetery. Active pallbearers will be Andrew Shaw, Daniel Patterson, Geri Padget, Greg Mack, Thomas Shaw and Wayne Shaw. Honorary pallbearers will be the Men's Fellowship of Hickory Grove Advent Christian Church.
Memorials may be made to Hickory Grove Advent Christian Church, 391Hickory Grove Road, Saluda, SC 29138.

From: "Lee and Billie Jones" < tjones@camden.net>
Subject: [SCEDGEFI] Obit of John Andrew Shaw, d. 7/19/2007 & family
Date: Tue, 24 Jul 2007 17:54:09 -0400

Armed Robbery

ARMED ROBBERY by Edwin F. Cavaleri, Jr.

This story started on the night of October 19, 1946 and ended in the early morning hours of October 20.  A high school friend, Tommy Tucker, and I had planned to take my girlfriend Sally Allen and a friend of hers to the Fox Theatre in Atlanta to see a movie. Neither Tommy nor I had an automobile so we had to rely on public transportation. After the movie and taking the girls home Tommy and I boarded a trolley to go home. The trolley ride from Sally’s house to my house required a transfer between lines at about midpoint between the two. It was approaching midnight by the time we reached the transfer point and nearing the time for the last trolley run of the night. Normally there would have been considerable traffic on the street where we were waiting but there was almost no traffic at all because of the late hour. While we were waiting a car that had been parked at a gasoline station across the street left the station and came over to where we were standing. There were two men in the car, both well dressed. The one on the passenger side asked if we knew where he could find a liquor store. When we told him that we did not he commented that it was getting late and thought they would just go home. He then asked us where we were going and if we needed a ride. We told him and he said they were going right by there and that we could ride with them if we wanted to. Fearful that we may have missed the last trolley we gladly accepted the offer (a copy ofthe transfer ticket that I did not used is below). When we reached the intersection where they were supposed to drop us off the man on the passenger side of the front seat turned around and pointed a 45 caliber pistol at us and told us to shut up and do what we were told and that we may not get hurt.

They told us to slide down in the seat so we could not see where they were taking us and the next thirty or so minutes were spent riding around making turn after turn to make sure that we would not know where we were. While the driver was driving as though he knew exactly where he was taking us the man with the gun was telling us about their extensive criminal activities. At the time I thought if he was telling us all of this to scare us he was wasting his time; we were already scared speechless. We later learned that what we were told was the truth. Their crime spree extended from Georgia to California.

We became aware that we had left the main roadway and were on a narrow dirt trail going into a heavily wooded area. The driver stopped the car, turned off the car lights, turned toward the back seat and pointed a flashlight and his 45 caliber pistol in our face. The pistols were difficult to see but appeared to be cannons instead of pistols. We were told to remove our wallets from our pockets and to give them our money. They did not touch the wallets commenting that they did not want to leave fingerprints, but they carefully examined all the contents to make sure there was no hidden cash. Together we had about $45.00, which was a significant amount in those days. They then asked if we had anything else of value and we responded that we did not. They appeared to be agitated because we had not offered our wrist watches and one put his pistol nearer to our face and demanded the watches. One of the men then proceeded to teil us that they were known as the Robin Hood Bandits because they were such nice guys. He then gave us each a dollar back (I still have the dollar) from the amount we had given him and  us that was to buy our breakfast if we were still alive after daylight. He went on to say that they were such good guys and because we had cooperated with them they  take us back to where we where we were going to begin with.

When we were within about a mile of our destination they stopped and gave us explicit instructions about what to do when we got out of the car. They told us to get out of the car, walk to the front, stay in front of the headlights, and not look back. They also told us not to contact the police and that if we did they would be back in contact with us. As we walked away in front of the car they backed into a side street and sped away in the opposite direction to make sure that we could not get their tag number.

It was now after 2:00 a.m. and none ofthe nearby houses had any lights on. After running about a block we spotted a house that had the lights on inside and on the front porch. We rang the doorbell and the man than came to the door was drunk but we could see other people in the house. We had  getting him to understand what our predicament was and that we wanted to use his telephone to call the police. When we got inside we found another man and two ladies, equally as drunk, and they could not figure out whatwe were doing there either. We finally convinced them to let us use their telephone to call the police.

The police were in the area and arrived very quickly. The police began ìnterrogating us immediately. Although we did not have a license plate number we were able to give the make and model of the car and good descriptions of the two culprits. The interrogation was thorough, lengthy, and took thirty minutes or longer. The police asked us to return with them to the location where we were picked up. The purpose was to question the service station attendant to see if he may be able to add any more information regarding the description or identity of the two men. The police asked us to get out of the squad car and go in the station with them. When we walked in there was a man slumped over a desk and he did not move. My first thought was they must have robbed and killed him. He awoke when the policeman touched him. It was a twenty-four hour station with very little business and the attendant had fallen asleep. The attendant gave a very good description of both men that was very similar to the one Tommy and I had given. He also said the two men had spent several minutes at the station and acted very suspicious. He said that his partner at the station, who had left work around midnight, was also concerned about the two men and had stayed outside near the gas pumps while they were there. The police surmised that it was probably the intent of the cuiprìts to rob the station but could not do so as long as the two attendants were not in close proximity of each other. The police also said that this was a procedure used as a robbery deterrent in many ail-night businesses.

It was about 4:00 a.m. before the police took us to my house. Waking up your parents at 4:00 a.m. to tell them you have been the victim of an armed robbery was about as scary as being robbed. Mother sat straight up in the bed, looked at the clock, and asked whatwe were doing staying out so late. The more they listened to the details that Tommy and 1 gave them the more upset they became. I believe it was a unanimous decision that Tommy and I needed to be taken to the kitchen for a good breakfast and some sympathy. Mother then insisted that Tommy and I go to bed and get some sleep. I am not sure we went to sleep.

The next day, or the day after, the culprits were apprehended as the attached newspaper articles describe. Except for the spelling of my name, the articles are reasonably accurate. Within a day or two Tommy and I were required to report to the Atlanta City Jail for the purpose of identifying the two men. Neither of us wanted to face the criminals again but felt much better about the task when told that a one-way mirror would allow us to see them without them seeing us. Daddy knew the Chief of Police, Chief Jenkins, and agreed to go with us during this ordeal. The fact that Daddy knew the Chief turned out not to be the best thing for Tommy and me but does make this story more interesting.  Tommy was asked first to go into the dimly lighted room to identify the two men from a lineup of eight or nine men of similar height and appearance standing on a platform. I was next and neither of us had any difficulty selecting the two from the lineup. Chief Jenkins and Daddy met us when we came out of the lineup area. Chief Jenkins asked if we wanted to go in the room where the two men were being held. Neither of us wanted to admit that we did not so we went with him. As soon as we walked in they recognized us and one asked if the police had given us our watches back. He went on to say, in the presence of Chief Jenkins, that cops will keep the money they took from us but sometimes they return personal property and that they should give us our watches back. We did eventually get our watches.

As indicated by the attached court documents, Tommy and I had to appear before the Grand
Jury and the Superior Court Criminal Division trial to testify. It was a pleasure to see justice done and
both sentenced to long prison terms but sad to see and hear their families testify in their behalf. Their
time in court was not over because they were wanted in five other states for armed robbery including a U.S. Post Office.

The question remains as to why they wasted their time and took a chance on getting caught
robbing two young guys with nothing of value but two wrist watches and a smaiì amount of cash.









letter written July 3, 1863

The following is a letter, dated July 3, 1863 and postmarked September 7, 1863 in Nashville, TN.  It was written by Edwin Stewart Fairbanks and addressed to his uncle Charles F. Stewart, Concord, NH,

Edwin Stewart Fairbanks' parents were Susan Cony Stewart, sister of the recipient of this letter.  Her husband was Franklin Tinkham Fairbanks, referred to as 'Father' in this letter.

Digital images of the original are below.

Fort Granger, Franklin, Tenn
Saturday, July 3rd / 63

Dear Uncle, Aunt, and Cousins:

It has been some time since I have taken up my pen to write to you but the reason is that I have been waiting to hear from you in answer to my last from Benton Barracks. As we have been moving around, in accordance with the ever varying soldier’s life, a good deal since then, I have probably lost several of my letters. We are now in camp at Franklin, Tenn. Only ten miles from Spring Hill or Thompson’s Station the place where we were “everlastingly gobbled” by the C.S.A. gentlemen last March. It is on the extreme right of “Rosey’s” army and has been the scene of many hard fights. It is quite well fortified but there is only one regiment besides our here at the present time. We are expecting to leave in a few days for Murfreesboro.

Two rebel officers were hung by our forces a short time ago at this place. They had possessed themselves of a pass from Gen. Rosencrans as inspectors and had on our officers' uniform and came boldly into our lines, examined the defences and went away but one of them was recognized by one of our officers who knew him in the regular army. They pursued them, brought them back to Franklin, had a drumhead court martial in the night and hung the next morning. That is the kind of “vigorous policy” that I like to see. One was a Col. And the other a Lieut. They admitted that we did right.

I do not know as you have heard of my visit home. Shortly after writing you from Benton Barracks St. Louis I went home and staid over two weeks, never had a better time in my life in the same length of time. The folks were all well and Ratio was nearly tickled to death to see his big brother Ed who had been off killing the old rebels. He wanted me to wait until he was big enough to go with me. It was a great deal harder for mother to part with me and for me to go, than it was the other time as Father and Charley were both gone but Stern duty called me and I flinched not.

Soon after reaching St. Louis we were ordered to our old brigade and place in Tennessee and so we started and arrived at Nashville on Monday June 15th. We staid there one week and during this time I got several chances to go to Father’s place which was only one mile and a half from camp. I enjoyed myself first rate while there eating fruit and vegetables which you know are quite a rarity to a soldier. I am one of those kind that are hardly ever sick and so when the regiment came and I had to come too but if I ever get sick while near Nashville Father can get me to his house and take care of me. He is living quite nicely has nearly 40 acres into vegetables only 1 ½ miles from Nashville and has five contrabands to work for him. I think he will do well. But I must close hoping to hear from you all soon and that you are enjoying good health. I remain your aff. nephew and cousin.

E. S. Fairbanks

To C.F Stewart ESQ. and Family

Edwin S. Fairbanks
Co B. 22 Reg. Wis Vol.
Murfreesboro via Nashville Tenn
To follow the Reg

envelope postmarked September 7, 1863

page 1

page 2

page 3

page 4 and return address

MG Emmett. W. Bowers


Major General
Emmett W. Bowers
Quartermaster Hall of Fame
1997

Major General Emmett W. Bowers graduated as an Reserve Officers’ Training Corps honor graduate from Mercer University in 1951 and was commissioned a second lieutenant in the Quartermaster Corps. During the early years in his career, he was detailed to the Artillery Corps. Serving in Korea with the 2d Division Artillery, he was wounded in action in 1952 during the Second Korean Winter Campaign.
General Bowers taught financial management at the Quartermaster School, both in Germany and at Fort Lee, VA. Important staff assignments during his distinguished career included Chief of the Budget and Accounting Branch in the Quartermaster Market Center System, US Army, Europe; Chief, Analysis and Statistics Branch, Management Division, Southern Area Command, US Army, Europe; Coordinator of the Stock Fund, Army Supply and Maintenance Agency, US Army, Europe; Chief of the Procedures and Performance Branch, Deputy Chief of Staff for Logistics; Executive Officer to the Comptroller, Defense Logistics Agency; and Staff Officer in the Logistics Directorate, Joint Chiefs of Staff. Some of his principal commands included Commander, 9th Supply and Transportation Battalion, 9th Infantry Division, Vietnam; Commander, 593d Support Group, Fort Lewis, WA; Commander, US Army Troop Support Agency, Fort Lee, VA; and Commander, Defense Personnel Support Center, Philadelphia, PA.
Among his many lasting contributions, General Bowers expedited movement of the communications zone from France to Germany, Belgium and Luxembourg, that was key to North Atlantic Treaty Organization success over the last two decades. Plus, he conducted a thorough study of Department of Defense commissary operations that led to many reforms.

The Story of My Life by Rev. Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri

NOTE: New facts discovered in 2012 contradict the last sentence in the first paragraph.

The Story of My Life by Rev. Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri (circa 1955)
(transcribed by Pendy Susan Cavaleri Bowers August 1999 from a photocopy of a carbon copy)

I was born in the city of St. Louis, Missouri, January 23rd, 1876. My father was an Italian born at Milano, Italy, and my mother was an American of pure Irish stock, born at St. Louis, Missouri. My father was a manufacturer of wire goods, such as fireguards, bank mailings, elevator shafts, birdcages and trellises. My mother died when I was eight months old, and my father always lived in his place of business. 

One day an incident happened that caused me to be placed in an orphan home under the direct charge of the Superintendent. Some ladies passing my father`s place of business saw a spark fly from a blacksmith's anvil on to my clothes, so they waited on my father and informed him that his shop was not a proper place to raise a child. While in this home I was struck down with sunstroke and came very near dying; the only thing that saved me was a trip up the Mississippi River on a steamer. My father had to get off the boat with me at Davenport, Iowa, where I lingered between life and death for a week, but having improved my father continued the trip up the Mississippi River to St. Paul, Minnesota, where my father established another wire work business. 

While living at St. Paul my father fell through the floor of the second story on to a chair in the lobby of the hotel where we were staying, injuring his back which affected his kidneys and he was advised to go south for his health. On our way to Houston, Texas, we stopped and lived among the Indians for a week in what was then known as Indian Territory, because my father was not able to travel very far at a time. After recovering somewhat from his illness he started a wire work business in Houston but did not stay there very long and for some unknown reason moved to New Orleans, Louisiana, where he established a fine wire work business on Canal Street. After a while my father`s health broke down with kidney trouble and he was advised by a friend to go to Atlanta, Georgia, and drink the water of the Ponce de Leon Springs he would find help, which he did and was able for six years to carry on a profitable wire work business by which he became well known in the city. 

We came to Atlanta in 1880 and when I became six years old started to school and to Sunday school. My father claimed that he did not believe in Christianity, but he let Mrs. Hazard, who lived back our place of business on Forsyth Street, the widow of Judge Hazard, one of the first families of Atlanta, to take me to the First Methodist Sunday School, which was then located where the Candler Building or the Coca-Cola Building now stands, and which was across the street from my father's place of business. After some time Mrs. Hazard moved away, having rented her house to a Mrs. Marshall who had two boys about my age; I fell in with them and they took me to the First Baptist Sunday School. 

About 1886, my father`s health broke down again and some friend advised him to go to Florida for his health, which he did shipping 22 large boxes of goods to Jacksonville, Florida, where he set up a wire work business in a new store that had just been completed for $60.00 a month and my father took in 60 cents in three months fixing a coffee pot. It was then my father decided to go into the ice cream business, in which he had great success, clearing $2,000 in three months, but he had to sell out because his health broke down again. 

On our way back to Atlanta we stopped at Macon, Georgia where my father sold an ice cream business before he got it started. Then we moved to Columbus, Georgia, where he started another ice cream plant and after running it three months sold it. Then he moved to Eufala, Alabama, where he started another ice cream plant, which he sold in a few months to an Italian fruit merchant. We returned to Atlanta, Georgia, and my father built a home at East Point, Georgia, six miles from Atlanta, where we resided for a time. 

The following summer my father went on the road again, starting ice cream plants at Charlotte, Durham, Winston-Salem, North Carolina and selling them for a profit after running them for several months. We then returned to East Point, Georgia, where we lived until one day my father fell sick on a street in Atlanta, Georgia, where he had gone on business, and General J.P. Lewis, a friend of his, advised him to go to the Soldier`s Home at Dayton Ohio and put me in a school so I could get an education. The plan did not work out, so we went to Washington, D.C. and my father went to the soldier's home at Hampton, Virginia. My father became disabled at the home and returned to Washington, took me out of school and I became a cash boy in Charles Baum`s Department Store on Seventh Street. Then my father took over the management of a pool room in the National Motel, corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Sixth Street, and I went to work there. After a time my father gave up the pool room and we went to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where we spent the Christmas week of 1889, and then on to Patterson, New Jersey, where I learned to weave silk and fix looms. 

After some months my father decided to return home, Atlanta, Georgia, but before doing so we visited New York City on a sightseeing tour. We were not long in Atlanta when my father’s health failed again, and we returned to Dayton, Ohio, where he went into the Soldier`s Home and I board with a family by the name of Bosuler and went to the public School at Miami City and Berry Street Schools. Here I had the finest opportunity for an education, but my father could not stay at any one place very long. We went to Detroit, Michigan, to attend the C.A.R. Encampment in the fall of 1890, and while there witnessed the races of the American Amateur Bicycle Association. Then we turned south and landed at Tallapoosa, Georgia, where there was a boom and I obtained a position as a shipping clerk for Littlefield Building Material Co. Before the boom bursted we moved back to, Atlanta, Georgia, where I entered the government service, Post Office Department, as a special delivery messenger, and afterward a clerk. 

I was in the Atlanta Post Office seven years, during which time my father bought a home on Cray Street and on October 31, 1895, I married Miss Maggie Edna Fairbanks at her home in West End. All went well until I began to engage in politics, even before I was old enough to vote I was an active member of the McKinley Club and thereby lost my job. This happened during the panic of 1897 where jobs were scarce, but my father-in-law, Edwin Fairbanks, was night yard master for the N.C. & St. L. RR and I obtained a position of a call boy. I was in the railroad service nearly six years, during which time I was a clerk, switchman, car repairer, car inspector, and was night chief clerk for the yard office when I went over to S.A.L. where I resigned July 1903 to accept a position as Assistant Secretary of the RRYMCA where I served for fifteen years. 

During the period of my railroad experience three children came into our home. Eliza Estell, born Nov 7th, 1897, who is now Mrs. Dean Peck living at Decatur, Alabama. She has two girls: Carol Dean who married Wayne B. Jennings and lives at Athens, Alabama. They have four children, two boys and two girls. Margaret Ann the other daughter married Robert Whittman and she has daughter Carol Ann. Edwin Fairbanks was born December 20th, 1899, married to Miss Kate Wright October 17th 1910 and they have three children: LeMargaret who married Mrs. Ford Lewis and they have one boy, Mike; they live in Atlanta. Betty Louise who married Mr. Louis Weber, they live at Springfield, Illinois and have two children. Edwin F. Jr. married Mrs. Rae Althea Paluch, he is a Lieutenant at Ft. Benning, Ga, and they have one daughter, Pendy Susan. Maggie Gertrude was born March 29th, 1902, who passed away March 12th 1923 at Birmingham, Alabama. 

I was with the RRYMCA from July 1905 to November 1915, during which time I was ordained a deacon by Bishop Eugene R. Hendrix at St. Paul Methodist Church, Atlanta, Georgia, November 21st, 1909. I was then a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, south. During this period, July 1903 to December 1910, still living in Atlanta, Georgia, there were four children born to us: Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri, Jr. born November 15th, 1903, who is now Director of the Crippled Children Clinic at Birmingham, Alabama, was married to Miss Dorothy Steward, July 19th, 1939, and they have one son, Emilio Ernesto III. Paul Horatio was born September 28th 1905, and passed away May 1st, 1906 (one week later, May 8th, my father, Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri passed away). Mary Antonica was born November 10th, 1907, who is now Mrs. J.L. Roberts of Birmingham, Alabama. William Waggoner was born June 7th, 1909, after serving apprenticeship with Stewart Machine Col. Of Birmingham, Alabama, then joined the U.S. Air Corp and was in the North African drive in World War Two, married to Miss Dorris Holmes at Nashville, Tennessee October 5th, 1945, passed away at the Percy Jones General Hospital at Battle Creek, Michigan, December 7th, 1946, was buried in the family plot at the Hollywood Cemetery, Atlanta, Georgia, where my father, son Paul, daughter Maggie Gertrude, and another son, David Hammond are buried. 

I was called as pastor of the Nellie Chapel Methodist Church, East Point, Georgia, December 1910, appointed as a supply by Bishop William P. Anderson, presiding over the Georgia Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church at Fitzgerald, Georgia, and was pastor of this church for eight years and part of this time I served the Hemphill Avenue Methodist Episcopal Church at Atlanta, all the while I was working as assistant secretary of the RRYMCA at Atlanta, Georgia. While living at East Point, 1911 to 1918, there were four children came to the parsonage: Charles Scott born February 19th, 1911, married to Miss Mary Loy of Etowah, Tennessee, where I was pastor, October 30th 1938, and they live at Tarrant, Alabama. Nellie Catharine was born August 4th, 1912, who married Max Creviston at Jellico, Tennessee where I was then pastor, March 3rd 1940, they were then living at Nashville, Tennessee but now live at Muncie, Indiana; Frances Alice was born October 6th 1914, married to Clifford Martin Cantrell, October 23rd, 1939, at the Rev O.C. Wright at Jonesville, Virginia, they now reside at Cincinnati, Ohio and they have six children: Clifford Martin Junior, Catharine Fairbanks, Jennifer Sue, Alice Frances, James Henry, Margaret Melissa; Curtis Holly was born October 18th, 1916, married to Miss Elsa Louise Markham October 6th 1939 at Jacksonville, Florida now residing at Birmingham, Alabama and they have four children: Davis Curtis, Nancy Elizabeth, Robert Markham, and Margaret Ellen. 

November 1918 I resigned as Assistant Secretary of the RRYMCA at Atlanta, Georgia, and Bishop Frederick D. Leete appointed me as Camp Pastor at Fort Oglethorpe at Chattanooga, Tennessee, stationed at Rossville, Georgia. My commission as Camp Pastor expired in one year, at the close of World War I, but I remained at Rossville two more years where I had a wonderful ministry among the industrial people of that city. During our pastorate at Rossville there was another daughter born to us, Martha Leete, December 29th 1918, who married A.T. Hammond, Jr. November 8th 1941 at Jellico, Tennessee where I was then pastor they live in Knoxville, Tennessee and have four children: Ronald Stuart, Emily, Susan Elizabeth, and Robert Fairbanks. 

December 1921 Bishop B.C. Richardson of the Atlanta Area, appointed me as pastor of the Simpson Methodist Episcopal Church, Birmingham, Alabama where I was pastor for five years, and during my administration built a beautiful brown stone church near the heart of the city, corner of Seventh Avenue and 25th Street. I had during these years a remarkable ministry and became very prominent in the religious life of the city and in the Masonic circles for the state. I served the Mission board of our Church throughout the state and the Board of Pension throughout the south in different conferences. I also delivered many Masonic lectures in all parts of Alabama. 

During our pastorate at Simpson Church our last baby was born, David Hammond, November 30th, 1922, who passed away at the age of seven years, while we were serving the Mankey Memorial Methodist Episcopal Church at Chattanooga, Tennessee, January 8th 1930 and was buried at Atlanta on January 10th. During our pastorate at Simpson Church Birmingham, our second daughter, Maggie Gertrude passed away March 12th 1923, lacking seventeen days of being 21 years of age. She was buried at the family plot at Hollywood Cemetery, Atlanta. 

During my time as pastor of the Simpson Church, the Alabama Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, of which I was a member, who transferred from the Atlanta Area to the Chattanooga Area, under the leadership of Bishop W.P. Thirkield, and he through his mal-administration transferred me to the Central Tennessee Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church and appointed me pastor of the Coleman Memorial Methodist Church, Lawrenceburg, Tennessee, December 1926, where I was for one year. Bishop Thirkeld promised to rectify the injustice of sending me to Lawrenceburg, but finding out through my District Superintendent, Rev. B.W. Blessing, that was not his intention, I returned to Birmingham, Alabama and became the pastor of the 57th Street Christian Church, where I served for one year. In the meantime Bishop H. Lester Smith succeeded Bishop Thirkeild as Bishop of the Chattanooga Area, 1928, and he had me reinstated as a member of the Central Tennessee Conference and transferred me to the Holston Conference, and appointed me as pastor of the Mankey Memorial Methodist Church, East Chattanooga, Tennessee, where I served two years. This church was heavily in debt and I raised on paper $27,000 toward the indebtedness, but the depression which followed immediately canceled our efforts, and knowing that it was best for a new man to come in to conduct another campaign on the debt, in which Bishop Smith and Rev. Walter A. Smith, District Superintendent, Chattanooga District, agreed that I should move so I was appointed to Oakdale, Tennessee in 1930, where I was for three years and had a fine ministry. 

At the Conference of 1935 I was appointed pastor of the Oakwood Methodist Church, Knoxville, Tennessee, and another church heavily in debt and about to be sold, with the people hopelessly discouraged. In the spring of 1934 we had a remarkable revival, which revived the faith of the people, and immediately following we conducted a financial campaign with great success, which put hope and courage into the membership, saved the church building and it is now clear of debt. I was at the Oakwood Church for three years where I again had a wonderful ministry, and at the Holston Conference of 1936, Bishop Edgar Blake, presiding, I was appointed pastor of the First Methodist Church, Jellico, Tennessee, where I had a lovely pastorate for five years. Here I had a rest from debt raising or building churches and we enjoyed it very much. I was at Jellico when Unification was consummated, and October 1945 I received my last appointment at the hand of Bishop Paul DeKern to Radford, Virginia, where I remained for five years until my retirement at the Holston Conference, Johnson City, Tennessee, October 1945. 

Having preached in four Conferences: Georgia, Alabama, Central Tennessee and Holston, in four states: Georgia, Alabama, Tennessee and Virginia. At our retirement we moved to Birmingham, Alabama where four of our children live and they provided us a lovely home, and where we have many friends of the old days when we served the Simpson Methodist Church, 1921-1936. We are happy in our retirement, enjoying the fine fellowship of the Norwood Methodist Church, Rev. R. S. Hill, Jr., pastor, whose preaching we enjoy, where the wife has united as a member and where I have a membership in the Quarterly Conference. Not having much preaching to do I accepted an appointment from Bishop Clare Purcell and Dr. O.K. Lamb, District Superintendent of the Tuscaloosa District, March 20th 1949, as supply pastor of the Cottondale Charge having three churches: Cottondale, Taylorsville and Big Sandy. All went well until Sunday, July 3rd when I went to Cottondale to preach at 11 o’clock and then moved over to Taylorsville Church for the evening service to start a revival. Next morning, 9:30 o’clock, I was struck with a severe heart attack which put me in the Druid City Hospital in Tuscaloosa under a tent for a week, then the children moved me to the South Highland Infirmary, Birmingham, Alabama, where I was for two weeks more. This caused me to give up the work under the doctor’s orders. I am now ready and willing to retire as the Holsten Conference did in October 1948.

Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri, immigrant

HERE is his entry on the family tree.

Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri 
b. Milan, Italy, October 23, 1823  
d. Atlanta, Georgia, May 10, 1906 


A SHORT BIOGRAPHY (written by E. E. (Jack) Cavaleri, III)

By the age of 23, Emilio Cavaleri had joined the greatest guerrilla fighters of all time, Giuseppe Garibaldi. Under a death sentence for his participation in an uprising in Piedmont in 1834, Garibaldi had escaped to South America. Wearing his colorful gaucho costume, he returned in April of 1848 to fight in Italy’s war of independence against the Roman Catholic Church. The handsome warrior and his band fought Austrians in Milan and the French forces supporting Rome and the Papal States. Overpowered at Rome, Garibaldi and his men had to retreat through central Italy in 1849. Disbanding his men, he again escaped abroad, not to return until 1859.

Emilio Cavaleri was excommunicated from the Catholic Church and told that if he ever returned to the country he would be shot.

“The evening of June I2, 1849 can not be forgotten. At that time I was living in exile on a Switzerland mountain which looked out on Lake Como of Italy and where I was welcomed by everybody living near the lake. Consequently, even that I would be shot by the Austrians if, I was caught, I would discend the mountain for visiting friends” - Cavaleri

From there, he went to the United States, living in New York City for a period. Then he joined the Union Army. Notes taken from his Memoirs (below) cover this time in his life.

Eventually, Mr. Cavaleri traveled around the country living in Jacksonville, Fla. and St. Louis, Missouri, where he married a lady named Maria Donnelly. Not much is known of her except that they had one child, Emilio E. Cavaleri. The Senior Cavaleri apparently raised him without benefit of his wife. As the son reached adulthood he Worked for  YMCA in Atlanta, Georgia while he studied for the ministry. He then became a Methodist preacher hence his name, Reverend Emilio E. Cavaleri. He married Maggie Fairbanks of Franklin, Tennessee. Eventually they brought 13 children into the world including my father, E. E. (Dick) Cavaleri, Jr. The old man died at this son’s house at #44 Alabama Street, East Point, Atlanta, Georgia on May 10, 1906.

His son, Reverend E. E. Cavaleri, eventually became the minister at Simpson Methodist Church in Birmingham, Alabama where my father, E. E. Jr., met and married my mother, Dorothy Steward.

Raised in Birmingham, I am the last in the line with the name Emilio. I married Ann Wainwright. We have two daughters. As the last of the clan to be named Emilio Ernesto Cavaleri, I thought it would be a tribute to the Original Cavaleri to place his words on paper for all of the world to see.

As my father used to say, "having been involved in the Nationalism struggle in Italy and the Civil War in the U. S., this fellow proved to the world that a Cavaleri would go halfway around the world to get in a fight.”


SOME NOTES FROM HIS MEMOIRS
source - his grandson, E. E. (Jack) Cavaleri, III

Before the War commenced, I was keeping a looking glass and picture frame store between 1513“ and 16th Street, New York I had leased the store for five years for the second time. About one or two years after, Mr. Abraham Lincoln came to New York and attended for about half hour at the Academy Italian Opera where I saw him for the time and never quited to look at him until he left. Really, I don’t know if I am a mind reader or not. Before coming to America, I was well posted in the politics and diplomacy of Italy, France and Switzerland, but coming to America, I quited politics and attended to my business. Still, by having looked so closely for half hour to Mr. Abraham Lincoln, I formed the following views. At that time, a tine Italian portrait painter living in Avenue A, near 17th Street, was compelled to Work for the fotografer, Frederic in Broadway, for a living, which was degenerate for an artist to paint fotographs.

Most every day, he would come to see me at my store, and frequently say, “You are a lucky man; you have no master. But I, I have to paint fotografs for Frederic for a living like a workman.” It was near the president election, when I said to the painter,  you know that I am not a rich man, but I am willing to pay you a fair price for a picture.” He said, “What kind  do you want?”

“I want Mr. Lincoln painted as President of the United States.”

“Cavaleri, you have been a good politician in the old country, but this country is too large for you. Mr. Lincoln will not be the next President, but Mr. Douglas will be the President”.

“Well, never mind about that Corradi, you paint Mr. Lincoln as President of America, and after some time that he is President, he will proclaim the Negro free.”

“For mercy sake, don’t you know if any one was to hear you say that you would be shot like a dog?”

He went out and never did return any more. A week or so later I went to see Angeloni, an old Italian painter, at his home between 7th and 8th Avenue on 17th Street.  I want a picture painted”, I said after a greeting. “Well, what kind of picture do you want,  he said.

“I want Mr. Lincoln painted as President ofthe United States.”

“Cavaleri, Mr. Lincoln will not be the next President, but Mr. Douglas will be and the picture will not be anything.”

“Angeloni, you paint Mr. Lincoln as President and after some time he will proclaim the slaves free”.

“What a nonsense. Mr. Lincoln will not be elected and if he is elected, and only insinuate that he would free the slaves, the American people would run him out of the White House and find someone else to take his place. Don’t you know that Americans are like Kings?"

“Angeloni, do you see the confectionary store opposite? Well, when Mr. Lincoln is ready to proclaim the Negro  he will go there, buy a bag of stick candy and show them to the American people and make them jump and dance like babies.”

“Cavaleri, here, no one can hear you, but be careful that if some one was to hear you, you would be killed as sure as you live.”

I never mentioned such a matter any more. Lincoln was elected and the war broke out. I sold my goods at auction and got $2,930 of over  thousand goods. I thought the business, which was already not good would be worse, but I made a big mistake.

From New York, I Went to Buffalo and some time after to Cincinnati. One evening I Went to a concert saloon in Walnut Street between 5th and 6th. Soon two young men came and took a seat at the same table and called for beer and cigars, as men who had money, which at that time money was scarce, so much that a lot of lager beer saloons selled 3 glass of beer for 5 cents. “Please pass that box of matches,” said one of the young men, and continuing said, “What country man are  “I am born Italian.” “You  he said in Italian. “Are you not a stranger in this city?” I said, “Yes I am.” He said, “What are you doing? I said, “Nothing to be found.” He said, “I am a lieutenant of the 20th Ohio Volunteer and we leave Cincinnati with the steamer Glandele tomorrow morning. And you can join us if you like military life.” I Said, “Very Well Sir, I certainly will come.”

The next momìng I was aboard the Glandele with about 1,200 men, and soon after the same lieutenant said to me, “I have a young man friend, very sick with bad dysentery. Are you Willing to stay with him  I said, “Yes.” He took me to a cabin on the upper deck. Here, I have to mention that, when I was sixteen years old, I practiced medicine with a first class doctor for about seventeen months. The sick man was  years and six feet tall and had been brought on the Glandele a few days previous. Himself and brown blanket were full of dirth  his bowels which was moving most frequently and had reduced him to the death door. I looked at the young man for a while, then said, “Lieutenant, I will care this young man if you will grant me what I want.” He said, “What is it? Money?” I said, “No, but hot and cold water, and a clean blanket and do not allow any body to come in here.” He said, “All right, you will have all you want and I will put a guard to keep every body out except the doctor.” And he did. It took me over time days to have him perfectly clean, and by having give fresh beef tea, the dysentery stopped and in a few days after, he was able to get up. Before that, We reached Pitsburg landing. One Sunday morning, after the chaplain prayer meeting, the young man thanked the doctor for what he had done for him. “Thank the good France nurse who attended you. Myself had no time to attend to you want than prescribe some medicine, but the good France nurse cured you.” And afterward, every sick man wanted the France nurse.

I don’t remember when we reached Pitsburg landing. What I Recollect is that the battle of Shiloh started Sunday night, April 6, 1862. I was nursing a cavalry corporal which his regiment was near the 20th Ohio and I left him and joined the Ohio Regiment, which was compelled to retreat with the rest of the Federal Army until we reached to Tennessee River where some attempted to swim for the other side and what was their result I don’t know. When We were reinforced the Confederates commenced to fall back and we followed them. It was early of the Monday morning that I got wounded in my head by a piece of a shell. When I recovered my senses, I was laying in a house across the river, used as a hospital, as many more were used for the same purpose. In a few days I was able to help nursing which was needed so much. One morning a surgeon asked to what regiment I belong and I said, “The 20th Ohio.” Two or three days later, the surgeon said, “I looked twice at the 20th Ohio roster and your name can not be found, but, we need more nurses at present and you get payed as a sergeant. General Grant's headquarters was near the house where I was and one morning soon  the battle, and when a nurse was fixing my wound in the street, General Grant happened to pass and asked if I was badly hurt and the nurse said, “No general, and he is a fine nurse.”

When they moved all of the patients to St. Louis, Louisville and Cincinnati, I was payed off. I didn't know Where the 20th Ohio had gone and I went to headquarters for a pass for Cincinnati. General Grant was standing at the entrance and asked what I wanted. I said a pass for Cincinnati and he wrote the pass himself. When a Major came by and asked where I was going and I told him, he said, "No you won’t, you are too good a nurse. Are you not willing to remain with the army and nurse the sick, we will pay you.” I said, “Yes, Major, I am willing to nurse the sick for nothing.” The Major said, “That is the kind of man we like and you will be treated as you merit to be treated” I went with the army and was treated very good. I received the best of everything to be found and money too.

We went to Corinth, and after to Columbus, Kentucky and to Memphis, Tennessee. There, I happened to meet with a few Italian citizens which asked me from where I came and what was my business. I told them that I was from New York, where I used to keep a looking glass and picture frame store. We were standing at the corner of Jefferson and Main Street and when an officer, a few minutes after, was passing by, one of the Italians that used to keep a china and window glass store, one of the richest men of Memphis, said to the officer, “Colonel, this man, he is from New York, and used to keep a looking glass and picture frame, and I believe that he can put window glasses.” “Thank you sir.” said the Colonel and then to me, “Will you come to my office with  I said, “Certainly Colonel, with pleasure.” He said he wanted a man to put glass in the house of Federal officers and I went to work for him. He said he was the provost marshal. I also worked for any one that wanted window glasses put in and I made a great deal of money. In March the boarding house in Union Street between 2nd and 3rd took fire and I lost every thing except a few hundred dollars that I had always in my pocket. I made a few hundred dollars afterwards and when Grant rook Vicksburg, Miss I obtained a pass from the travel marshal to go there.

I can’t recollect if it was the first Sunday or the second when I reached Vicksburg on the Steamer Saviatan, at sunrise, when an officer came aboard and asked of the Captain to what man belonged the eighteen boxes of window glass. The Captain pointed myself out. “What are you going to do with window glass, sir‘?”, the officer said. I said, “Put them in windows. Do you want some‘?” He said, “No, I don’t need any, but do you cut glasses in any shape you want?” I told him that I could do that.. He said, “I am the Superintendent of the Railroad and I want you by seven o’clock tomorrow morning at the depot and my office is in a passenger car standing at the outside. Don’t disappoint me for I will get the Provost Marshal guard to bring you there, and by the way, do not forget to bring your glass cutter.” By seven, I was at the Superintendent's and he came out and said, “Now let’s walk to the railroad machine shop.” It was three quarters of a mile distant. In going, he told me about fifty or more times, that he had engaged three painters to out a round glass for the engine headlight, and that they broke two boxes of glass without ever cutting one, and that he had another box and to out one and take the balance of the glass for myself. When we reached the shop, we went in a small room where the glass and headlight patterns were. The engine was standing on the round table near the machine shop front door and he started to tell me again what he had told me on the road. When from the hall door Major General McPherson said, “Superintendent, General Grant wants to see you, and they went in the office for about twenty minutes. Then, Grant, McPherson, the Superintendent and Surgeon Bushe came where I was, and the Superintendent said, “You see General, the engine it is ready to  up as soon that this man cuts the headlight glass.” “Well, the glass is already in.”, said I. “Hurrah! This is the man that I need.” said the superintendent. Grant said, “You have found a good man.” Do you know him, General? “Are you not the man that was shot in the head at the battle of Shiloh said Grant. “You look dry.” said Surgeon Bushe. “Sure, every thing closed up and I have to run down to the river”, said I.

“What time did you arrive here?”, said the Surgeon. “Yesterday”, I said. He said,  Oh, you are not yet posted; don’t go back with the superintendent, but walk up back of this machine shop and the first house on the right is my residence, and come see me.” I said very well to the surgeon. Then General McPherson said, “Well, the next house on the same side is my office so when you leave the Surgeon, come see me.”

“Very well General.” Before leaving the machine shop, I cut about two dozen square glasses for the car windows. The superintendent told me to have a large room in the depot for he would need me frequently. He said that he would notify the Quarter Master to send a complete cot for me to sleep on, and chairs, table and other things I would find at the depot. Surgeon Bushe was home when I went there, and taking a bottle and glasses from a closet set in the wall, gave a good size drink of very fine whisky and half a dozen of Havana cigars, called an orderly and said, “Anytime this man call, let him help himself.” and to me said, "Now you not run down to the river anymore.” “No Surgeon”, I said, “I will not for sure.”

I was compelled to pass by McPherson headquarters and as soon as he saw me, he called me in to his office.  With him was a gentleman which I had never seen before or afterward. McPherson said, “Have you seen the Surgeon?”

“Yes, General.”

“Did he prescribe for you‘?”

“Yes, General. He is a fine surgeon.”

“He is? Well I am kind of a doctor myself; wait awhile" said the General. A few minutes after, an orderly came in with a champagne bottle and two glasses, one for McPherson, the other for the gentleman, and McPherson taking from his desk the high water glass, which he filled that more than  full and said, “See what kind of a doctor I am?"

“Why General, you are sure the best, and a very sick man like myself, wasn’t always the best doctor only that I am afraid you will kick myself out for calling frequently.”

“Why no” said the general, “If I was to kick out a patient, I would lose all of my patients.”

"Well, General, give the prescription to me and I will not disturb you so much.”

He wrote the prescription and had it dictated to his adjutant who wrote it out. The Superintendent in returning to his office met the Quartermaster and told him he had found myself and that General Grant knows me and that he wanted a complete cot for myself sent to Depot and when I went to the Quartermaster office with the permit to buy for my private use, the Quartermaster sent with the cot, a barrel of whisky, a box of French Claret, and a basket of champagne, free of charge. Several officers did soon find out that I had some whisky and some of them offered ten or twenty dollars for a bottle of whisky. I would give them a small bottle of whisky, but refused to take any money.

One day I met with McPherson and he asked me how I was getting along and I said, “Very well.” Then an officer came along and said, “GeneraI, the rebel tried to sink a steamer, last night again. I have sent a man to find out how many rebels and cannons there are, but he has not returned yet. He is a good man, but sometimes he drinks too much.”

By this time We had reached McPherson’s headquarters and I went in with him and I said, “General, let me have a pass and I will go and find out what you want.” He said, “You would not succeed. It takes - uh, it takes a man that understands talking better then you do”.

At the same time Grant came in and having heard what McPherson said; asked what was the matter and when he heard what was said, he said, “Well, if he wants to go, let him go.”

“All right, I will give him an order for the Provost Marshall  give him a pass through the fortifications and return.”

Grant said, “Never mind, General, I am going home and at the same time, I will take the man to the Provost Marshall office and talk him into letting the man have passes anytime he calls for and get the passes.” And I had one yet which I preserved for when I left Vicksburg and I used the last one when I did.

When we reached the Provost Marshaìl offîce, Grant said to let me have passes at anytime I wanted and left. The Provost Marshall made out a pass good for ten days and after, made out two more passes and told me to keep them until I wanted some more.

That same day, I crossed the river with a skiff and at night I stopped at a small farm house where I slept on the kitchen floor. Two days after, at sundown, I reached near the Rebels camp where I met with an arbitor sergeant that asked me from where I came. I told him I came from Memphis, Tennessee.

“From Memphis, Tennessee? What were you doing there.”

“I'm Working for Joseph Botta”

“Do you know anybody else in Memphís‘?”

“Oh yes. Almost every one of the Italians.”

“Are you Italian?”

“Yes, Sergeant”

“Where are you going now?"

“To New Orleans and from there to Italy, for my Mother is very sick”

“Have you means enough for going to Italy?"

“No, Sergeant, but Botta has wrote to Bacicaluppi in New Orleans to furnish myself with means to reach Milan”

:Well, you cannot reach any place to rest this night, and you can sleep at our camp; for you would get lost in the swamps.”

“Thanks so very much, Sergeant”

I did not sleep a wink that night. And at daylight, I got a hot bowl of coffee, cheese and crackers, and departed after having found out that the camp consisted of sixty fine soldiers with five pieces of six pound cannon; and even that it was a clear day, I got in the swamp, and I did not succeed to reach the bank of the river than about 4 o’clock P. M., and my good luck was to see on old Negro in a skiff  in the river, which I called; and crossed the river, and with a paddler flat boat I reached Natchez next day, and with a steamer I went to New Orleans, for it was the only place to get a steamer to New Orleans for it was not allowed for anyone to go to Vicksburg without a permit from a Provost Marshall. In New Orleans I had a good time all night, and the next day I purchased twenty boxes of lemons and twenty-five of oranges to be shipped to Vicksburg to myself, which I didn't know that nobody was allowed to go without the Provost Marshall's permit, until I went aboard to engage a cabin, and pay for the passage, when I was told to get the permit from the Provost Marshall. The boat was going to leave the next day, noon, and about eleven o’clock on that day I went into the Provost Marshall’s private office.

“What do you want?"

“Marshall, I want a permit to Vicksburg.”

“Nobody is allowed to go there. Get out of here or  kick you out.”

I went, and soon after I related to General Bank what I had done, and that I wanted to return to Vicksburg, and that the Provost Marshall had ordered me out of his office. Then the general said to come with him to the Provost Marshall office which was very close, and as soon as we entered the office the Marshall said, “Good morning, General.” Then he saw me and said, “You get!” General Bank said, “Never mind Marshall, I know that you don’t want to kick out a McPherson man.”

“Do you know him, General?”

“No, I don’t, only that he is a McPherson man.”

When the Provost heard what I had done, he said “Lets all go to the other side of the street.” There we drinked a couple of times, and at the same time the Marshall said to me, “When you reach Vicksburg tell McPherson, which he is a personal friend, that I wanted to kick you out. Ha Ha.”

In returning to Vicksburg we passed two gunboats that cleared out the rebel camp. I never did find out who reported where the rebel camp was situated, but Grant had received the report and sent the two gunboats. When I crossed the Mississippi River the first thing was to hide the passes, and McPherson’s permission of buying anything from the Quartermaster for my private use, and when I reached McPherson’s office the
thing he asked me was how was his prescription working.

“Very fine, General. Only I had to hide the same in the woods across the river.”

"Well, I will get my Adjutant to write another."

Some days after I went to the Provost Marshall and I obtained more passes, which I don't need, and I have one left.  Not very long time after, while walking on Washington Street, I heard McPherson call me.  It was at the store of the Adams Express Company he said, "Cavaleri, I am going to leave Vicksburg, and I don't know if I will see you anymore.  You come to my office tomorrow morning, and I will give you a letter of what I know of what you have done."

"Thank you, General, I am going to leave Vicksburg myself."

"Why, Cavaleri?  Joseph Botto wants you to be his partner in business, and you can make a fortune with him."

"I don't care for a fortune, and as soon that the federal troops leave Vicksburg, I will be among rebels, and it will not be pleasant for me."

"Well, what are your intentions?"

"My desire it is to be in the United States Navy."

"Very well, General, I will sure be in Baltimore by the time you said.  Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Cavaleri."


obit - Carrie Lee Davis (Davies) Wright

Find her on the family tree HERE.