Adaline Manship’s life was one of service, caring for her children and family circle. She would have been responsible for the household sewing, and purchasing goods for her home and family. During the Civil War, Adaline Manship was a member of the Ladies Sewing Society for Confederate Soldiers, whose purpose was to furnish clothing and other supplies to the soldiers. They fitted out men with uniforms, and provided them with knitted cotton socks and other items of clothing. In a letter from family friend John McAdam, Scotland, to Charles Henry Manship in 1875, McAdam relates his memory of “cheery Mrs. Manship’s quaint descriptions of your makeshifts for food and clothing,” her accounts of the family’s condition during the Civil War, the difficulties obtaining food and clothing for her family, and sending the children to school in old bagging with “Cincinnati Flour” printed on them.
In 1867, a good supply of groceries could be purchased for $29.97. Sugar cost fifteen cents a pound, coffee was thirty cents a pound, a keg of lard could be purchased for $7.35, mackerel was $3.00, two hams weighing over twenty-two pounds cost $4.12, and two gallons of molasses cost $2.00.
Spring is in the air at the Manship House. Wisteria, native azalea, and red buckeyes are only a few of the old plant varieties in bloom on the Manship House grounds.
After the Civil War, Charles Henry Manship Jr. went as far north as the river would carry him, settling in St. Paul, Minnesota. He found employment at the St. Paul Gas and Light Company, and married Mary Etta Friend in 1870. Charles Henry Jr. sent this photograph of a waterfall in Minnesota to his family in Jackson around 1870.
Manship sisters Minnie, Addie, Kate, and Annie posed on the side porch of the Manship House for their photograph, circa 1917. At that time, Addie, Kate and Minnie were all living in the Manship House. Minnie had been widowed, and returned home to live with her two sons around 1900. Annie Manship married Alfred Galloway in 1889, and lived nearby. A service flag can be seen in the background, hanging on the house. Service flags let others know that a family member was serving in the armed forces. The number of stars indicated the number of of family members in service.
David Daley Manship (born 12/30/1844, died 6/14/1907), named for Adaline Manship’s father, was known as “Dave” by friends and family. David enlisted as soon as he was of age and served with Company K, Woods Regiment, Confederate Cavalry. He was wounded and captured near Washington, Mississippi, June 25, 1864 and taken prisoner. After the Civil War, David moved to McComb and was employed as an engineer on the Illinois Central Railroad. In 1874, David married Lucretia Martin at Love’s Station, Mississippi. They adopted a daughter Kate, born in 1885, but had no other children.
Charles Henry Manship Jr. (born 2/16/1843, died 2/2/1911) enlisted in the Tenth Mississippi Rifles, Company A, as a private under Captain Robert A. Smith. In 1861, the Tenth Mississippi escorted the Hon. Jefferson Davis on his way to Alabama and Tennessee. Charles Henry Jr. and the Tenth Mississippi were involved in numerous skirmishes and battles. After the Civil War, Charles Henry Jr. went as far north as the river would carry him, settling in St. Paul, Minnesota. He married Mary Etta Friend in 1870, and the couple had seven children. Their youngest child, Paul Manship, was a noted sculptor, perhaps best known for his Prometheus sculpture in Rockefeller Center, New York.
Charles Henry Manship arrived in Jackson on February 9, 1836. Thirty years later, the Manships hosted a reunion of Jackson’s early citizens to remember the occasion. The following article is from Anabel Power’s “Pages From an Old Scrap Book,” The Jackson Daily News, May 30, 1948.
The Men of Old Jackson
The writer recently found a copy of “The Mississippi Standard,” published every morning Monday excepted, by Power and Jones. Official Journal of the City of Jackson dated, Sunday, February 11, 1866. In it is an interesting story:
The men of 1836, 1837, and 1838. HAPPY REUNION AT THE RESIDENCE OF C. H. MANSHIP ESQUIRE. Interesting Narrative! Toasts, Sentiments and a Good Time Generally!
On Friday last there was a very pleasant reunion of the old citizens of Jackson, the men of 1836, 1837, and 1838, at the hospitable residence of C. H. Manship, Esquire, himself one of the old citizens.
The repast, furnished by the hospitable host and his excellent wife, was indeed elegant, bountiful and luxurious. The assemblage of guest was somewhat frosty with age, it is true, but most of them, under the influence of the good cheer spread before them, and the interesting associations of the past, seemed oblivious to “bald pates and gray locks” and waxed young again, while bringing up, in conversation, the past history of the city and its former inhabitants.
Governor Humphreys and several other gentlemen of distinction were present. The only feeling which seemed at all to mar the general hilarity of the feast was the recollection of the race of noble men and women who once dwelt amongst us, but who are now either absent in distant cities or “pale sleepers in the silent city of the dead.”
We regret not being able, in this issue, to give as full an account of the interesting ceremonies of the occasion as we would desire. Happy toasts and fine sentiments were the order of the evening. Brief, but eloquent addresses were made by the Honorable William Yerger, David Shelton, Esquire, Honorable Amos R. Johnston, Thomas Palmer, Dr. Farrar, Mayor D. N. Barrows and others.
Mr. Manship spoke, in substances as follows, relative to his first visit to Jackson:
Gentlemen: Thirty years ago this day, (February 9, 1836), and about this hour, I entered the city of Jackson after a walk of two days from Vicksburg, with blistered feet, weary limbs and great anxiety as to whether I would be able to secure shelter for that night–the Legislature being in session and every place of entertainment filled to its utmost capacity, but after several efforts I at length met with Mr. S. Judd, who many of you recollect,–he took me in and treated me kindly. Next day I took a walk around town, and to my great astonishment met an old friend, who many of you still remember. I refer to the presiding genius of the First National Bank, J. Green, Jr. I was pleased to meet in a strange land one whom I had known well in my boyhood days, and one, too, whom I knew to be, in the full sense of the term, a man. Thirty additional years’ acquaintance has confirmed my previous judgement of the man, whom we all recognize as one of our best citizens.
The same day I made the acquaintance of the model man, James Smith, T. S. with whom I formed a friendship and intimacy I have not realized with other men. I was attached to him with more than a brother’s love; he, it was, at the sound of trouble between the South and North, sent a stand of arms, a cannon and ammunition for the defense of Jackson and made your humble servant the medium of presenting the same to the city.
True, the object so near his noble heart was lost, but it showed the love he bore for the home city of his early days and the self-sacrificial act.
Time sped on with me, and the remnant of others of that day, and brought us with varied fortunes up to 1861, when war with all its horrors visited the land; but nowhere in the South was it so keenly felt as at this our once beautiful little city.
We were all made to feel it as no people ever felt that terrible scourge. Our city, of which we were all so justly proud, was reduced to ashes by a merciless and unfeeling for our home desolated and desecrated, with unsparing and wicked hands.
In view of these facts, and as we, of the old stock, are rapidly passing away and as our frosty locks and aching limbs admonish us that we are hurrying to that bourne whence no traveler returns, I thought it appropriate that we should assemble and pass an hour of social reunion and brotherly love, that we may forget each other’s foibles, late troubles, should learn to rely on each other and live to better purposes than we have hitherto done.
And why not? With our noble old Roman, Gov. B. G. Humphreys as executive of the state, and our excellent and most efficient mayor, Hon. D. N. Barrows, we hope to see from their ashes, and tower far above those who have suffered less during the recent war.
I cannot close these remarks without returning you, my friends, my most hearty thanks for your various words of confidence, however unmerited they may have been, which you have been pleased to confer upon me; and in the evening of my days, the fervent hope I indulge is that the retrospect of my public and private life will reflect no dishonor or reproach upon the other.
In conclusion I propose the memory of the departed and absent men of 1836, 1837, and 1838, of the city of Jackson.
Adaline Daley Manship was born in Boston on February 23, 1822. Adaline was one of seven children born to Mary Hudson Daley and David Daley, a skilled wood carver and carpenter. The Daleys settled in Jackson, and by 1836, David Daley was engaged by William Nichols to serve as a contractor on the construction of the Mississippi State Capitol. Charles Henry Manship arrived in Jackson in 1836, and it was not long before Manship was working on contracts superintended by David Daley. Adaline and Charles Henry Manship were married on December 12, 1838, when Adaline was 16, and Charles Henry was 26 years old. Fifteen children were born over the next 25 years, five of whom died in infancy. During the Civil War, Adaline and the ladies of Jackson formed organizations to help with the war effort. A member of the Ladies Sewing Society for Confederate Soldiers, Adaline helped furnish clothing and other supplies to the soldiers. Although no correspondence or written accounts from Adaline have survived, obituaries describe her as having a perennial cheerfulness and sunny nature. She was said to have an excellent memory and exceptional powers of conversation. Her life was one of service, caring for her children and family circle. Adaline Manship lived to be 81, and died at home, December 23, 1903.
A PAIR OF SLIPPERS. – Every boy or girl will wonder what the little slippers in figure 3 are made of. I am afraid if I wait for you to guess, you will never get them made, and I expect you will make several pairs before “St. Valentine’s Day.” They are nothing in the world but peanut shells, and they are just as “cute” as can be. Get a couple of peanuts, shaped as near alike as possible, cut an opening for the top with a sharp pen knife and slip the meat out. It is a difficult matter to line the shell-slippers throughout, so just cut little insoles out of blue velvet or paper, and glue them on the bottom. If you have a box of colors, you can paint the inside to match the color of the insoles, but this is not necessary. A tiny bow of blue ribbon may be glued on the toe. Tie them together with a piece of the ribbon. Having the little slippers ready, you can mount them on a plain, white card, or upon a heart-shaped affair, as seen in figure 3. A heart is cut out of pasteboard, and covered with red velvet or satin. A spray of Forget-me-nots can be cut out of cretonne and pasted on, and the lettering painted on in blue. The back has a piece of paper pasted over it. It is attached to an arrow, which is sawed out of white wood and gilded.
American Agriculturist. February, 1886.