ADIÓS LEOCADIA

A CHAMORRO GIRL 

Today we say "Adiós," "Farewell" to Leocadia, a Chamorro girl, who left Guam at age 11 and never came back. In her own words before she died many years later, she became a woman without a country.

The American and British whalers who stopped on Guam in the 1800s often found many young Chamorro men very willing to join the crew. But, in one case, it was a young Chamorro girl that an American captain wanted.

Leonard Gifford was the captain of the whaling ship Hope. In 1862, the Hope sailed into Apra Harbor and stayed for some length of time. Gifford was accompanied by his wife Lucy Ann, who had given birth twice while on the voyage, sadly losing both children in infancy. By the time Gifford came to Guam in 1862, there was a young daughter Ella in tow.

While on Guam, Gifford made acquaintance with a Joaquín Iglesias of Hågat. Joaquín had a daughter aged 11 years by the name of Leocadia. We don't know if Iglesias made the offer first, or if Gifford made the request first, but the result was that Iglesias agreed to let Leocadia take up residence with Gifford wherever he may be, whether on Guam or elsewhere, to serve the Gifford family.  This isn't a surprise, since Gifford had a wife who was either pregnant or having just given birth. She needed help. The legal contract between Iglesias and Gifford stipulated four years of service, after which time Gifford was responsible for bringing Leocadia back to Guam.

Gifford was obliged to feed and clothe Leocadia, to treat her well and not prevent her from fulfilling the duties of her Catholic religion.

CONTRACT FOR LEOCADIA'S HELP

Leonard Gifford (left) 

Joaquín Iglesias (right)

It seems that Gifford went off for a while, leaving Lucy Ann and Ella on Guam in the meantime. A Sydney newspaper reports that Gifford brought 1000 coconuts to sell in Australia. A son was born to him on Guam in November of 1863, and he was named Leonard Stanhope Gifford. His place of birth is indicated in this 1865 Massachusetts State Census. He is the 2nd name from the bottom.

1865 Massachusetts State Census

What happened to Leocadia?

When Gifford and family left Guam after his son was born, it seems Gifford took Leocadia with him.

The same 1865 Massachusetts Census which lists Gifford, his wife Lucy, daughter Ella and son Leonard includes a 13-year-old girl from Guam. Her name is listed as Gorza, which isn't Leocadia. But Gorza could be what Gifford called Leocadia. Nicknames were often used, especially when two cultures and two languages were involved. Gorza's age matches Leocadia's, and, as the story unfolds, you will see that indeed Gorza was Leocadia.

Imagine. A Chamorro teenage girl living in Massachusetts at the end of the American Civil War.

Gifford died and Leocadia left the company of the family. What she did next remains a mystery, and she herself was a mystery to herself and to many. She left Guam at such a young age, and became a woman in a foreign land. Her mental ties to Guam grew thin and fragile. She even claimed she had been born on the high seas, rather than on Guam.

According to Leocadia, her father wanted her to be born on Guam under the Spanish flag. Her mother wanted her to be born in Japan. The claim is incredible for more than one reason. First, what Chamorro mother in 1852, when Leocadia was born, wanted to give birth in Japan? Would she all of a sudden be able to converse with a Japanese midwife? Assuming Leocadia's mother was not Chamorro, how did a non-Chamorro woman become Joaquín's wife? How would a Chamorro mother get to Japan, to a country closed to foreigners until 1854? The story creates all sorts of problems to solve, and I haven't spelled out all of them. But, to allow Leocadia's story to continue, we tolerate it for the moment.

The disappointment felt by the mother that her daughter was not born in Japan proved to be the breaking point between mother and father, according to Leocadia. No wonder Leocadia stated at times that she was born in Japan, and at other times born on Guam (besides the high seas, her story changes). And if mother and father did separate (divorce was impossible in those days), one can begin to see why her father Joaquín might have sent her off to work for the Giffords. Had the mother disappeared, leaving Joaquín with a daughter to raise by himself? What happened to aunties and godmothers? Again, a story that leads to more questions.

But, if any of this be true, one can only wonder if Leocadia felt abandoned by her mother and then her father. No wonder, perhaps, she never returned to Guam, besides the difficulty of doing so in those days.

In Massachusetts, Leocadia often went by the nickname Leo. She never married, but her life continued to be one of service, just as she began at age 11 to work for the Giffords, assisting the pregnant Lucy. She worked over the many years as a housekeeper and nurse, and was actually a registered nurse in Springfield, Massachusetts as early as 1891.

Later on in life she met an older man named Edward Hamilton Young from Springfield, Massachusetts who was childless and whose wife had passed away. Young was a successful and well-known traveling salesman, so he was often away. Leocadia became his housekeeper.

Young had no children of his own but he and his late wife raised nieces and nephews as their own and, even late in life, Young adopted a teenage boy. The boy was sickly and died a young man. I wouldn't be surprised if Young hired Leocadia not only to keep house but to attend to the adopted son's welfare.

Young died in 1907 and in his will left Leocadia quite a fortune. In addition to $2000, which today is worth more than $55,000, Young bequeathed to Leocadia his household furniture and clothes.

But Leocadia was to follow her patron Edward Young to the grave not long after. She passed away three years later, in 1910, in Hartford, Connecticut of kidney disease.  

WOMAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY

Leocadia's last wishes were to be cremated, an indication that she had long lost her Catholic identity, since cremation was not allowed by the Church in those days. She wanted her ashes scattered by the winds, and her undertaker did just that on a bridge in Springfield over the Connecticut River. 

There was great symbolism in this final act.

She considered herself a woman without a country. And, as she had, in her mind, come from the waters, in death her ashes would return to the waters, albeit of the Connecticut River, to flow where they will. A woman without past roots nor a single trajectory forward. Her ashes, like her life, were to be blown here and there as the winds were to decide.

The noble thing about Leocadia is that, despite all the sorrow she faced in life, she was a giver to the end. Starting at the age of 11, she became the assistant of a young mother with more children on the way. She then became a nurse, housekeeper and was even called a healer. A lesson for all of us to follow.  U såga gi minahgong. Rest in peace.