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Two Civil War Granddaughters

by Diana Loski

Allyene Hurd on her  wedding day, 1923

Allyene Hurd on her wedding day, 1923


With the start of The Gettysburg Experience Magazine in July 1997, old-fashioned recipes were included in the first issue.  For twenty-four years, the majority of these recipes were part of the collections of two ladies: Allyene Hurd Furnier and Eloise Midghall.  These two women, related by marriage (Eloise was a first cousin to Allyene’s husband, Bill), were excellent cooks.  With their respective passings, I became the recipient of their plethora of recipes.  Here are brief biographical sketches of these two Civil War granddaughters.

Allyene Hurd and Eloise Midghall never knew their grandfathers.  Three of the four had died before their births – mostly from the effects of the Civil War.  Allyene entered the world as Hester Allyene Hurd, named for her maternal grandmother and her mother’s favorite sister, on November 27, 1897.  Her paternal grandfather, a Union veteran, had died just at the war’s end. She never knew his cause of death, because he had died when her father was an infant.  A small, ungraved stone marks his grave in the family cemetery in Manchester, Ohio.  Her maternal grandfather, also a war veteran, survived the war but died a few months before her birth in 1897.

Allyene was the only child of George Washington Hurd, a tobacco farmer from Kentucky, and Anna Stewart, one of eight children born to John and Hester Stewart.  The Stewarts were part of the town’s high society and were well-to-do.  They were proud to be descended, they claimed, from Mary, Queen of Scots and her only son, James I of England.  Their own ancestors braved the wilds of the northwest territory after the American Revolution – Ohio and Kentucky today.  They were horrified when their Annie married the lowly “Warsh” Hurd.  When Anna died suddenly in 1902 of an unknown illness (family members believe it was a miscarriage), the Stewarts took Allyene, age four, from her father.  As a result, the relationship between Allyene and her father was always formal, and a bit strained. 

George Washington Hurd remarried in 1907, and Allyene moved back with her father and step-mother, Julia, whom she grew to love. 

Growing up in a river town, Allyene spent her early years with two cousins, daughters of her namesake Aunt Allie.  All her life, she remained close with her cousins, who were more like sisters to her.  Yet, the grief she experienced at losing her mother never completely left her.  It was one reason, when the Great War approached, that she trained to become a nurse.  She hoped she could spare others from the loss she still felt so deeply.

Since many nurses were needed overseas during World War I, Allyene graduated from nursing school at the early age of twenty, and immediately worked in a local hospital in Hamilton, Ohio – a town located just north of Cincinnati.  She boarded with a family from her hometown, the Furniers, a widow and her only son.  Romance bloomed and in 1923, Allyene and William Furnier were married from her mother-in-law’s Victorian home.

Between 1918 and 1923, Allyene worked in the nursing profession, and saw many people through the influenza epidemic.  She became friends with many nurses, including Mrs. Donatello, an Italian immigrant.  The pair swapped recipes in their spare time.  The friendship remained strong for life, and when Mrs. Donatello gave birth to her daughter, she was named Allyene.

Allyene Furnier became the mother of four children, and grandmother to six.  The grandchildren remember sitting on the back porch shelling peas, enjoying baked pie crust pieces dotted with butter and cinnamon sugar, or sitting at the table during dinner, amazed at the bounty there.  The prolific cook always offered two bowls of freshly cooked vegetables and two desserts – one always a pie.  Mrs. Donatello’s spaghetti recipe is still a family favorite after nearly a century – only now it’s called Nannie’s Spaghetti – the name by which she was known to her descendants.

Allyene died on July 11, 1981 – forty years ago this month – at age 83.  She was beautiful – with black hair and blue eyes – and the perfect example of Victorian grace.  No one ever remembers her uttering a harsh word. 

Eloise Midghall, with a  young relative, 1985

Eloise Midghall, with a young relative, 1985


Rena  Eloise Midghall, the second daughter of George and Irene Midghall, was born on  April 4, 1908 in Hamilton, Ohio.  Her  paternal grandfather, an English immigrant, had received three hundred dollars  to take the place of a wealthy man who wished to avoid the draft.  A gifted musician, John Midghall was the  regimental drummer of the 70th Ohio  Infantry.  He fought at Shiloh,  Vicksburg, and Atlanta.  He marched with  Sherman’s Army to the Sea; he was captured near the Atlantic coast before the  army reached Savannah in late 1864.   Since Andersonville Prison was closed by that time, Corporal Midghall  was sent to languish in the prisoner-of-war camp at Salisbury, North Carolina,  where he contracted consumption and suffered with the infection of  tapeworms.  He managed to survive the  war, but was soon too ill to work to provide for his wife, their eight  children, and his wife’s sister’s boy – made an orphan during the war.  John died a few years later of the disease he  contracted while a prisoner of war.


Eloise  and her older sister, Ethelyne, barely knew their surviving grandfather, David  King, also a Civil War veteran.  He died  when Eloise was a small child.  Ethylene  soon followed him to the grave at age eleven.   It is believed she died of a ruptured appendix.  These two deaths so close together shaped the  rest of Eloise’s life, as she remained the only solace to her mother’s grief.


Eloise  remembered the Great War and the influenza epidemic that followed.  Her mother refused to allow her to go to the  library or read library books, as she feared the dreaded disease would be on  the books and take her only living child.   Eloise was trained in music and studied at the Conservatory in  Cincinnati.  She also attended Oxford  University to earn a degree in Education.   She studied with a handsome fellow student named John Pressler, whom she  had dated since high school.  Her mother  didn’t like him.  Her father, a kindly  and quiet man, did.


Eloise  and John Pressler were together for twelve years.  When he asked her to marry him, Eloise  hesitated.  She had just earned her  degree to teach school on the eve of the Great Depression.  Her parents needed her income, and were she  to marry, she would lose her position.   She asked John to wait a while longer.   He surprised her by abruptly marrying someone else.  The shock devastated her, and she suffered a  nervous breakdown.


Eloise  never married, and lavished her attention on her numerous school students.  She taught first grade for many years until  her retirement in 1973.  She lived in the  house where she was born all her life, and took care of her aging parents until  they died in 1965 and 1967. 

In  addition to teaching school and traveling all over the world, Eloise spent much  of her free time with a gourmet cooking club. She experimented with new recipes on her distant family – her favorites  included desserts and hors d’oeuvres. 

Eloise  was a pleasant person, and an unusual one.   When Allyene’s and Bill’s youngest daughter, Freda, called her one day  and asked her to go to the movies, she was surprised to hear Eloise turn from  the phone and ask her mother if she could go to the movies.  Freda, in grade school at the time, thought,  “ My goodness, you have to ask permission at 38 years old?”   Eloise also kept nearly $100,000 in her  checking account.  When asked why on  earth she would keep that amount in a regular checking account, she replied, “Oh,  you never know when you might need a little cash.”
Her  driving skills remained in fairly good condition, even throughout her  seventies.  She and two of her teacher  friends drove Freda's daughter two thousand miles to college for the girl's  freshman year in Utah.  It was her first  time away from home, and it was an experience riding with three elderly school  teachers through the plains of Kansas and the mountains of Colorado.  Eloise chose historical places to stop on the  way: the Harry Truman Presidential Library in Independence, Missouri, the  Eisenhower Boyhood home in Abilene, Kansas, and Pike’s Peak near Colorado  Springs.  When she dropped off the new  student with her multitudinous, cumbersome luggage, Eloise placed the suitcases  outside the car on the sidewalk, took a picture, and said, “Well, bye!” and drove away.  The  girl said, "I’ll never forget my  astonishment as I watched her go in her old Buick."  (Her dorm was on the third floor – with no  elevator.  She still can't remember how  she managed to get everything up there.)
One of Eloise's  favorite exclamations was “Fiddle dee dee!”  She was using it long before it became  Scarlett O’Hara’s catchphrase.


Eloise died at  age 96 the last week of June in 2004. 

Whenever  the family enjoys her old-fashioned colonial puddings, her hummingbird cake or  her apple crisp, her light-hearted company never seems far away.


These two Civil  War granddaughters knew each other well, and shared years of memories with  their myriad tried-and-true recipes.   They would be pleased to know that for nearly a quarter of a century,  the dishes that were their labors of love continue on for us to enjoy.

Princess Publications
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