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Ann Maria Perry

Ann Maria Perry

Female 1817 - 1888  (70 years)

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  • Name Ann Maria Perry 
    Born 2 Jan 1817  Orland, Hancock, Maine, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 
    Gender Female 
    Census 1840  Orland, Hancock County, Maine, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 
    Census 1850  Castine, Hancock County, Maine, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 
    Census 1860  Newburyport, Essex County, Massachusetts, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 
    Census 1870  Newburyport, Essex County, Massachusetts, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 
    Census 1880  Newburyport, Essex County, Massachusetts, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 
    Name Mary Ann Maria 
    Died 1 Jan 1888  Newburyport, Essex County, Massachusetts, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 

      «b»Andrew Chute and Ann Maria Perry Chute:«/b»

      WEC: «b»Lived in Maine from 1826 - 1859«/b». Had a Golden Wedding in 1886.

      «b»1840 United States Census
      «b»NAME «/b» «b»Household Members«/b»
      Andrew Chute1 male, under 5 (Charles Richard) 1 male, 30-40 (Andrew) 1 female (20-30) (Ann Maria Perry Chute)
      «b»Township:«/b» Orland
      «b»County: «/b»Hancock
      «b»State:«/b» Maine

      «b»1850 United States Census
      «b» NAME «/b» Age Occupation
      Andrew Chute Customs Bond Officer 36
      «b»Township:«/b» Castine
      «b»County:«/b» Hancock
      «b»State«/b»: Maine

      «b»1860 United States Census
      Andrew ChuteHead 44 M Bookkeeper Massachusetts
      Ann M. ChuteWife 43 F Maine
      Charles R. Chute 23 M Mariner Maine
      Lizzie M. Chute 19 F Maine
      George A. Chute 17 M Clerk Maine
      Sarah D. Chute 13 F Maine
      James A. Chute 9 M Maine Edward L. Chute 6 M Maine
      George Cook 17 M Maine
      «b»Dwelling «/b»Number 1072
      «b»Family Numbe«/b»r 1183
      «b»Newburyport Ward 3«/b» Essex County, Massachusetts

      «b»1870 United States Census
      Andrew ChuteHead 57 M Sawyer Lumber Massachusetts
      Ann N. ChuteWife 53 M Keeping House Maine
      Ann N. ChuteWife 53 M Keeping House Maine
      Charles R. Chute 32 M Mariner Maine
      George A. Chute 27 M Clerk in store Maine
      Sarah B. Chute 24 F Schoolteacher Maine
      James A. Chute 19 M Clerk in Office Maine
      Edward Chute 17 M At school Maine
      William B. Peters 2 M At home Maine
      Mary L. Coggers 14 W Domestic servant Maine
      Mary Chute 32 W No occupation England
      Robert N or M. Durant 14 M At sea England
      «b»Dwelling Number«/b» 152
      «b»Family Number«/b» 164
      «b»Newburyport Ward 4«/b» Essex County, Massachusetts

      «b»1880 United States Census
      Andrew ChuteHead 66 M W Bookkeeper Massachusetts
      Ann M. ChuteWife 63 F W Keeping House Maine
      Sarah B. ChuteDaughter 33 F W Teacher Maine
      Edward L. ChuteSon 26 M W College student Maine
      William C. PetersGrandson 11 M W At school Maine
      Hannah O'ConnorsServant 22 F W Servant Ireland
      «b»Street:«/b» Walnut Street
      «b»House Number«/b»: 17
      «b»Dwelling Number:«/b» 172
      «b»Family Number«/b» 195
      «b»Newburyport, District 228,«/b» Essex County, Massachusetts

      «u»«b»SILENT ANDREW (1814-1890)«/u»«/b»
      by Helen Chute Lightener

      There were three little Chute boys brought to Newburyport, Mass. in 1820 after the death of their father, Dick; Ariel, who was eleven years old, Andrew, six and Ben, four. Their mother, Dorothy, planned to keep a boarding-house for girls in order to support her family. Her plan proved successful and she not only took care of herself and her children but was able to give two of her boys a college education. That is another story. This one is to be about Andrew, father of my father, Edward. The reports on Andrew seem to agree that he was a quiet man, gentle, unassuming, a man not given to telling stories or jokes, a man who talked little and never about himself. It would be interesting to know whether he was born that way. Was he a quiet, soft-spoken, rather silent boy or did the circumstances of his life and the pressure of hard times cause him to draw into himself and remain aloof? His younger brother, Ben, who in his last years made his home with Andrew, once said, "Now, I am a talkative man, always was, always will be. But Andrew is quite different. The chances are that if Andrew went down street and saw the angels of God ascending and descending on a ladder he would come home and never say a word about it."
      I remember seeing my grandfather Andrew, whenever, as a very little girl I visited my grandparent's home in Newburyport. Though I was nearly nine years old when Grandfather died in 1890, I have but few memories of him. He used to sit almost all day by the kitchen window in a chair called the "Captain's" chair, for he was quite crippled with rheumatism. He would smile at us as we children played around him but seldom spoke. It was from Uncle Ben that we learned about Andrew's Life. Ben loved children and we adored him for he played with us and told us stories by the hour. Many of these stories were tales of his own boyhood and of Andrew's for they had been inseparable companions.
      As small boys, Andy and Ben went to public school. They lived at the boarding-house, ran errands and helped their mother after school and on Saturdays. In those days Newburyport must have been an exciting place for youngsters. There was much traffic on the Merrimac river with boats going upriver to Haverhill, Lawrence and Lowell or down to the sea. There was the constant coming and going of fishing schooners bound for the Banks. Coastwise vessels stopped to trade or load freight for Boston or other seaports, and larger vessels going to distant ports were loaded or unloaded at Newburyport's many wharfs. The shipyards which were later to build the clipper ships were busy places, and the boys must have watched many a ship being built and launched as they played around the wharves or rowed their small boat on the river. Most boys in those days dreamed of going to sea, and many did go if only to try it out by taking a three month's cruise as cabin boy.
      Andrew always loved the sea. Perhaps he might have chosen it as his profession had not something happened when he was twelve years old that changed his whole life. One day a letter came to Dorothy from the Buck family of Bucksport, Maine. They offered to take one of her boys in the customary way, i.e. he would be bound out to them for a ten year period. They agreed to take good care of him, feed, clothe, give him an ordinary schooling and teach him a trade. As Mr. Buck was owner and manager of a general store this meant that the boy would be taught all phases of merchandizing, starting from the ground up, including selling, shipping and accounting. He would live in Mr. Buck's home and be treated as a son.
      Dorothy could not consider sending Ariel. He was too old, seventeen, and besides he was well started toward college being already in Dummer Academy and entered at Bowdoin for the next year. Benny was too young. Twelve was the proper age and Andrew was just that age. Why did she consider sending him, depriving him of a chance of a college education, giving up her dream of making him a teacher or minister? Perhaps she felt that the expenses of Ariel were so heavy that she couldn't undertake the education of all three sons. Perhaps she thought that Andrew needed a man's hand in his bringing up. Perhaps Andrew, being a boy, wanted very much the adventure of going to Maine, of working in a store. It is reported of Andrew that he had a very good mind, even better than had his two brothers, so it was not a question of his lack of ability. We just don't know why, we only know that the papers were signed binding out Andrew to Mr. Buck for ten years.
      Andrew undertook the trip to Bucksport alone, going all the way by boat. Like Newburyport, Bucksport was on a navigable river, the Penobscott, and there was much traffic with ships coming and going from that good harbor. But Andrew, after getting established in his new home, found no time to play around the wharves as he had done in Newburyport. All his time except during school hours was spent at the store. He was fascinated by the large stock, everything from fishhooks to potatoes. People from the region round about all came to trade at Buck's store. Andrew was so bright and quick that he soon made a place for himself and seems to have been happy in his new life.
      In those days one of the diversions for young people was Singing School. After the fun of singing together, there was the possibility of seeing a girl home, a good way to get acquainted. At Singing School Andrew met Ann Perry and her sister Hannah, daughters of Squire Perry one of the prominent citizens of the neighboring town of Orland. The Squire had married twice. He had three boys by his first wife. After her death he married Hannah Wood and had six more children. Of these, Ann was the oldest. It must have been fun for Andrew to go to that home, where seven boys and two girls made things lively. At any rate he did go there often, and soon fell in love with Ann. She was sixteen and he nineteen when this happened.
      Remember, Ann must have been a very pretty girl. She was a beautiful old lady; I remember her delicate, regular features, her deepset eyes, soft brown eyes and her fluffy silver-white hair. She also had a lovely soprano voice. With her two brothers, and sister Hannah, the Perry quartette was so well liked that they were asked to sing at funerals, weddings, concerts and all sorts of community affairs.
      Ann and Andrew were married in September 1836, when Ann was nineteen and Andrew twenty-two. I presume they had to wait until Andrew's ten years with Mr. Buck were completed. At twenty-two he was his own man, and thereafter was paid a regular salary at the store, making marriage possible.
      Many young couples in Maine at this time began married life living with their parents. Houses were large, lumber and labor cheap, families were big and one or two persons more made very little difference. So the bride and groom went to live at the Perry homestead in Orland.
      Ann and Andrew lived in Maine for twenty years. The records are very meager. We know that seven children were born to them. One, Kimball, died in infancy, but the other six, Charles, Martha, Elizabeth, George, Sarah, James and Edward lived to grow up. We know that Andrew lived in Orland until 1845, for there George was born at that time. Andrew took his place in community affairs. He joined the militia and rose to the rank of Lieutenant. In 1849 he was promoted to adjutant and honorably discharged in 1853 at his own request. The family was living in Castine when Edward the youngest was born in November l853, and when he was but three months old they drove with him in midwinter by horse and sleigh to Ellsworth where the family lived for six more years. In l859 they decided to move to Newburyport Mass., Andrew's childhood home. The oldest son Charles had gone to sea some years previous to the family's departure from Maine and was sailing in a square-rigged vessel to far eastern ports. George having finished high school had taken a place in Dutton's general store in Ellsworth. He was sixteen and earning his own way, so remained behind. But the two girls, Elisabeth and Sarah, 18 and 14, and the two little boys, Jim, 9, and Edward, 6, accompanied their parents.
      The family first lived on Green Street, then Fruit, and finally High St., near the Belleville church where they were living when as small children my brother (Charles) and I used to visit them. Andrew worked as chief accountant in Coleman's lumber yard and later in life had other positions. He was a natural gardener, had what is called a green thumb. Every inch of his yard was cultivated. He was famous for his flowers as well as his vegetables. I used to admire his sweet peas which he planted in late fall instead of in spring as did other people. His were early and hardy and especially fragrant. His tomatoes were huge and sweet. It was his joy to grow and supply such good things for his family and the neighbors.
      But the first decade of life in Newburyport, from 1860 to l870 must have been a trying time for Ann and Andrew. It was the civil war period when feelings ran high, people were fearful of the future and anxious about the present. Prices were high and things not easily obtainable. Newburyport, being the home of William Lloyd Garrison, was strong for the Union and strong for the abolition of slavery. In Andrew's family, the war, when it came was called the War of the Rebellion, implying that the seceding states were rebels against their own country. Slavery was a wicked thing to Andrew, a blot on his beloved land that must be eradicated at any cost. Abraham Lincoln was revered and loved. So feelings ran high in the community. Group after group of volunteers, with flags flying and bands playing, marched away to save the Union.
      Andrew was too old to go and George, just 18, though he tried to enlist, was rejected as too young. After the war had dragged on for three years he got his chance and enlisted in CO. K of the 59th Mass. Volunteers, and marched away to the south. Then began an anxious period for the family at home. There was no easy communication in those days. Andrew went down to the City Hall every morning to look at the list of wounded and dead posted daily on the Court House door. He heard by letter occasionally from George and knew that he was in the thick of the action, in the Battle of the Wilderness, also at Spotsylvania. Later, in the Battle of North Anna River, he was severely wounded. He was more than a year in one hospital after another before he was discharged. These two years of anxiety were hard on Ann and Andrew, but a happy event occurred in 1863. Martha Elizabeth, now 22, became engaged to William Peters of a well-known and distinguished family in Maine. So it seemed that this marriage should be a happy thing for "Lizzie", though it was hard to let her go. She was a lovely person, charming and beautiful. In after years the highest compliment that could be given to any of us was, "She looks like Lizzie". She was also a talented musician, gave voice lessons, and herself took lessons from a famous teacher in Boston. All in all Lizzie had a unique place in the family and they would all miss her.
      The marriage took place in September, and Lizzie went away to Ellsworth, Maine, but not for long. In only five years she died of child bed fever, leaving three little boys, John, 4, Charles, 2, and William Chute, 9 days old. This sad event greatly changed the life of Ann and Andrew. Added to their grief was the anxiety of what was to become of the children. The Peters relatives offered to take John and Charles and it seemed to Ann that it was her duty to take the baby William. So Willie became a part of the family thereafter and grew up as another son. It was a great care and responsibility for Ann. She herself was not in good health and the finances of the family at this time were not in good shape. However Sarah, by this time through school and herself teaching was young and full of life. She practically adopted little Willie, caring for him except during school hours. Edward, still in high school, did much to help his over-burdened mother also. James was on the high seas having shipped on a long voyage to the orient and would not be home for two years.
      Just at the end of this decade came another blow. Charles, who was now first Mate on the John Bryant, a square-rigger in trade with the Orient, contracted a fever on the way home. He was taken ashore in the longboat at Queenstown, Ireland, but died before reaching shore. He was buried in Ireland. He had married an English girl but had no children. Now Ann and Andrew had lost their two oldest.
      When James came from his long voyage he was no longer interested in a life on the sea, but was caught up in tales of the far west so decided to go out and join his cousin Dick in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Dick was a lumber merchant, so James often took rafts of lumber down the Mississippi to New Orleans. Later he drove cattle from Texas to Kansas, always on the lookout for Indians. He seemed to have become a real westerner and likely to remain there.
      George married in 1872 Clara Wood of Bluehill, Maine. He settled in Chelsea, Mass. near Boston and engaged in the hardware business. Edward, after finishing high school, worked in the Newburyport Post Office, but in 1877 he took up his studies again at Andover Seminary in order to become a minister. In 1880 he married my mother, Julia Hawes Cleaveland. Sarah continued her teaching and little Willie grew up as her special care and joy.
      So the years passed. Ann's sister, Hannah, joined the family especially to help care for Willie, though in her mid-seventies. She became invalided and spent most of her time in bed. Uncle Ben, Andrew's younger brother, also came to live with the family. These elderly relatives were the first of five such who spent their last years at Andrew's home. There was no such thing as old age security and no help for the aged, except to live with a kind relative.
      Andrew had retired in the late 1870s, being too crippled to carry on any longer. Sarah was now the mainstay of the family, and her small salary supported them all. To increase her earnings she took on the teaching of English to foreigners at evening school.
      In 1886 occurred Ann and Andrew's golden wedding, a great event in those days. Ann, though bedridden enjoyed it all. I remember the excitement, the callers, the presents when as a child of five I went to this festive occasion. Ann died in 1888 and Andrew in 1890. At this latter date there were four children living and eleven grandchildren, with one more to come.
      So this is the story of silent Andrew. He did not amass a fortune or become famous for any great deed. He did not go to war to fight for his country as he would have liked to do. He did not teach or preach or write a book, he just lived simply and quietly. He worked hard, loved his wife and raised seven children, all of whom became good honest citizens and an influence for good to those around them. There are many unsung heroes such as he. His children have now all passed on and there are but two or three of his grandchildren who remember him, but because I do remember him a little and have been told a little more I've written this story about my Chute grandparents so that later descendants may know about these two ancestors and honor them.

      Richard Chute and Dorothy Pearson Chute:

      "Richard Chute, impelled by the Byfield spirit of enterprise and probably the needs of his family, went forth from the old Chute house by the church, somewhere between 1816 and 1820 with a brother, each with a load of shoes whose pegs had been toilsomely whittled out by hand. His brother went to Evansville, Ind., but he pushed on to St. Louis. He never came back but died in St. Louis, October 24, 1820, leaving a widow and five young children. The widow was of good Byfield stock - Dorothy Pearson, aunt of the late Benjamin Pearson, and she reared her family respectably and well, one, Ariel Parish, to become the well known preacher, another, Benjamin P., to be a teacher more than forty years, both college graduates." (Source: «i»The Story of Byfield«/i», John Louis Ewell. page 235.)

      «u»«b»"Dick and Dorothy":«/u»«/b»
      The Memoires of Benjamin Pearson Chute, as recorded and written by Helen Cleaveland Chute Lightner
      When we were small my brother «u»Charles «/u» and I used to go to our grandfather's house in Newburyport for short visits. One of the delights of these visits was our great Uncle «u»Benjamin Pearson Chute «/u». He had come in his old age to live with his brother, «u»Andrew Chute «/u», who was our grandfather. Uncle Ben had a little downstairs bedroom full of books and papers, for he had been a literary man, a teacher all his life. He was a great talker and a natural born story teller, very willing to be cajolled into entertaining us small fry by tales of his early life. He had lost much of his memory for the present, it kept slipping away, but Oh, how well he could remember the past! He loved to talk of it and we adored listening. We would both try to climb on his lap, pull his chin whiskers or his thick mop of white hair and tease for a story. Those bright blue eyes of his were very merry and jolly. Come to think of it, my brother, Charles, who often sat curled up contentedly in Uncle Ben's arms while he talked, had, in his maturer years, the same mop of silvery white hair and the same bright blue eyes.
      One day when we children had been pestering Uncle Ben for a story, he took Charles on his knee and had me sit on a hassock at his feet and told us a story - true story, he said - about his father «u»Richard «/u» called Dick and Dorothy, his wife. It went something like this:
      "I was only four years old, but I remember one morning running as fast as my legs would carry me, all the time waving my arms and shouting "goodbye" to my father. My brothers were way ahead of me, and behind me in the kitchen doorway of the farmhouse, my mother stood wiping her eyes. From her cot bed by the window, sister Betsy's little face peeped out (Betsy was crippled by a bad back and could not walk or run). All of us were watching a wagon moving slowly out of the drive and along the road. Father walked beside the oxen, turning back again and again to wave his hand and call "goodbye". But soon the team rounded a bend in the road and was lost to sight. We boys turned back and joined our mother, all of us very sober and tearful.
      This happened long ago, to be exact in the early spring of 1820. Richard, or Dick Chute, my father, who was leaving his family that sunny morning was starting on the long, hard trip from his farm in Newbury, Massachusetts to St. Louis, Missouri. His wagon held not only his bedroll and food for the trip but a big load of shoes, shoes he had made himself. He was a farmer, his land being near the Byfield meeting house in the township of Newbury on the Merrimac River in northeastern Massachusetts. To eke out his living on the small stony farm, he made shoes during the winter months. He had a little workshop in the corner of the barn and there cut and sewed his shoes. Most of them were big, heavy boots needed by frontiersmen for which there was a ready market in the West.
      He was leaving behind on the farm his wife, Dorothy, who was a very smart and energetic young woman. They had five children. Alex, the oldest, was 14, Betsy, the invalid, 10, and the three very active younger boys Ariel, Andy, and Benny were 12, 6, and 4 years old, respectively. Dick knew his wife would be quite capable with the boys' help of carrying on alone until time to plough and plant. He had arranged with a neighbor to do that heavy work, because he knew he could not possibly return until early autumn.
      The family needed money so badly. The year before, Father had sent his load of shoes by a wagon train and he had never heard from them or received his pay. This year he must have money for tax, installment on the mortgage, and other necessities. The farm supplied their food and fuel - that was about all. It was for this reason he felt he must go himself to St. Louis with his shoes. He would join a train of wagoners when he reached the main road West.
      At the time he left us he was only forty-two, just a young man in the prime of life. But he never came back to his home and family, for somewhere along the way West he caught typhoid fever and died. In those days pasteurized milk was unknown. The wells, from which came drinking water, were often contaminated. A drink of water from such a well along the roadside or milk bought from some dirty barn could quickly cause typhoid, and many people in those days died from this cause.
      For a long time my mother waited for Father's return. Summer passed, September, also October and still no word from him. She felt sure he must be nearly home. Every day she watched the road, hoping to see the ox team plodding toward her bringing home my dear father to his family. We boys talked constantly of things we had to tell him - what we had done during the summer. In November came a letter. It had been a long time on the road. It contained the sad news of Father's death. Enclosed in the letter were a few bills, all the money that was left from the sale of oxen, wagon and shoes after expenses of sickness and death were paid.
      Mother, stunned at first by the news, soon pulled herself together as was necessary because of the situation in which she found herself. She was a widow with five children, no money, no property except the farm. What should she do to keep them all alive and well? Besides, she must educate her boys. With characteristic strength she applied herself to her problem. Alex was old enough to fend for himself very soon. He could get a job, for he was a very big boy for his age, already a husky young man. But she must earn money herself to care for Betsey and the three small boys.
      At this time in 1820, factories were being built along the Merrimac River which supplied plenty of water power. A boarding house near a factory might be her answer, she thought. It would provide a home, food, and money, perhaps enough for the boys' education. She decided she would sell her farm and buy or rent a big house for boarders near a factory. Luckily, she did sell the farm right away and with the money bought a big house in Laurence, Massachusetts. Girls were coming in from farms eager to earn cash money by working in the mills instead of just earning board, room, and a few dollars a month on the farm. Dorothy had no trouble finding boarders. She filled her house with these farm girls out to get rich in the factories. Betsey from her cot in the kitchen helped accounts. The three boys went to public school and ran errands. Later Dorothy moved to Newburyport and for many years kept a large boarding house there.
      She prospered as time went on and was able to accomplish part of her ambition. She saw two of her boys, Ariel and Ben, graduate from Bowdoin College in Maine. But her wish to give to her country trained preachers was not entirely granted. «u»Ariel «/u» did go through Andover Theological Seminary after his graduation from college and for some years held a pastorate near Boston. But later he felt he could not subscribe any longer to the strict creeds of the church of his day. He gave up the ministry, moved his family to Sharon, Massachusetts, and he himself was Custom House manager of the Port of Boston for the rest of his life. Ariel had five children. His son, your father's cousin «u»Dick «/u», gave heed to the cry of those times, "Go West, young man", and became a prosperous lumber man in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
      Well, I never wanted to be a preacher. I had my heart set on being a teacher, and that's what I was all my long life. First I was teacher in several New England academies. When slavery became the burning question of the day, I took it up and became an ardent abolitionist speaking and writing in behalf of the oppressed black people. After the Civil War, my New England conscience could not endure thoughts of the deplorable condition of the mass of freed slaves in the South. I simply had to do something about it myself, so I gave up my comfortable job and went south to Alabama to gather a school full of black people and teach them. But of course feeling was running so high all over the South that one northerner should come down and start teaching "niggers" to read was intolerable. I was ostracized and ill treated to such an extent that my health was ruined. I had to give up. I went out west to some of my relatives, found a teaching job in Wichita, Kansas and other places till as an old man I came back here to Newburyport to live with my brother Andrew, your grandfather.
      Someday I'll tell you some stories about him because you should know about his early life. But don't forget this story of your great-grandfather, Dick. I was only four years old but I remember it perfectly. I watched my father go away with his ox team. I never saw him again.
      But Dorothy, my mother, lived to be a very old lady of eighty-six, always bright and active till the end of her life. The adjective which has always been applied to her is «i»indomitable«/i». And so she was, the indomitable Dorothy Pearson Chute, your great-grandmother.

      «b»Record Type:«/b» Chute Family History/Book
      «b»Title:«/b» «i»A Genealogy and History of the Chute Family in America: With Some Account of the Family in Great Britain and Ireland, with an Account of Forty Allied Families Gathered from the Most Authentic Sources«/i»
      «b»Author:«/b» William Edward Chute
      «b»Published:«/b» Salem, Massachusetts, 1894
      «b»Comments:«/b» Copy originally owned by George Maynard Chute, nephew of William Edward Chute with his signature on the flyleaf; handwritten notes in margins; passed to George Maynard Chute, Jr. who published an updated addendum to this work in 1968; passed to George Maynard Chute, III; passed to Jacqueline Irene Chute.
      «b»Location:«/b» Privately held

      «b»Type:«/b» Family History
      «b»Type:«/b» "Dick & Dorothy"
      «b»Author:«/b» Helen Cleaveland Chute Lightner
      «b»Comments:«/b» Recollections of Benjamin Pearson Chute, in short story format
      «b»Date:«/b» 25 JUN 2001
      «b»LOCA:«/b» Chute Family Records/GP205-0

      «b»Type:«/b» E-Mail Correspondence
      «b»Author:«/b» Lionel Chute
      «b»Date:«/b» 12 MAY 2002
      «b»LOCA:«/b» Chute Family Records/GP765-3

      «b»Type:«/b» Family Data Worksheet
      «b»Title:«/b» Richard Chute & Dorothy Pearson
      «b»Author/Researcher:«/b» Leslie Chute-Surch
      «b»Date:«/b» 2 FEB 2003
      «b»HARD COPY LOCA:«/b» Chute Family Records/GP205-0

      «b»Type:«/b» Family Data Worksheet
      «b»Title:«/b» Andrew Chute & Ann Maria Perry
      «b»Author/Researcher:«/b» Leslie Chute-Surch
      «b»Date:«/b» 2 FEB 2003
      «b»HARD COPY LOCA:«/b» Chute Family Records/GP765-3
    Person ID I56819  Glenn Cook Family
    Last Modified 18 Oct 2012 

    Father Squire Isaac Perry,   d. Yes, date unknown 
    Mother Hannah Wood,   d. Yes, date unknown 
    Family ID F551615105  Group Sheet

    Family Andrew Chute,   b. 11 Apr 1814, Rowley, Essex County, Massachusetts, USA Find all individuals with events at this location,   d. 9 Jul 1890, Newburyport, Essex County, Massachusetts, USA Find all individuals with events at this location  (Age 76 years) 
    Married 30 Sep 1836  Orland, Hancock County, Maine, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 
     1. Charles Richard Chute,   b. 1 Aug 1837, Orland, Hancock County, Maine, USA Find all individuals with events at this location,   d. Sep 1870, Queenstown, Cork County, Munster, Ireland Find all individuals with events at this location  (Age 33 years)
     2. Martha Elizabeth Chute,   b. 1 Aug 1837, Orland, Hancock County, Maine, USA Find all individuals with events at this location,   d. 24 Jun 1868, Newburyport, Essex County, Massachusetts, USA Find all individuals with events at this location  (Age 30 years)
     3. George Albert Chute,   b. 3 Mar 1843, Orland, Hancock County, Maine, USA Find all individuals with events at this location,   d. 24 Nov 1910, Boston, Suffolk County, Massachusetts, USA Find all individuals with events at this location  (Age 67 years)
    Last Modified 8 May 2008 
    Family ID F551615104  Group Sheet

  • Photos
    Ann Perry Chute
    Ann Perry Chute
    Photo taken in the late 1880's, probably for 1886 Golden Wedding
    celebration. Photo courtesy of Lionel Chute.