I’m having some Saturday Night Genealogy Fun (#SNGF), with help from Randy Seaver and his prompts! Feel free to join in.

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: May 23, 2026

Prompt: “Are there ancestor’s occupations that you know nothing about? Pick a great-grandparent or earlier ancestor who held an unfamiliar job (cooper, cordwainer, hostler, etc.). Look it up and write a short description of what their daily work life might have been like.”

Introduction

Many of us are familiar with the phrase “mad as a hatter,” especially through the Mad Hatter of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. The phrase itself predates Carroll, but its association with hatmaking has a grim historical explanation: mercury used in producing felt hats could poison those who worked with it. So, it was a little disturbing to learn that my ancestor, Henry Denny (1758–1839), was identified as a “hatter” in a 1795 land indenture.

But why did hatmakers have this reputation? While there are many theories, I rather believe that the mercury used in producing felt for hats poisoned those who used it. So, it was a little disturbing to learn that my ancestor, Henry Denny (1758-1839) was a “hatter” in a 1795 land indenture.

Discussion

Henry Denny left a lot of documentation around his Revolutionary War service due to his attempts to obtain a pension. He also interacted in the Dutch Reformed Church, as evidenced by the baptisms of his children and by his second marriage. He bought and sold land in New York and New Jersey. Yet he left relatively little documentation for his occupation.

He lived in Bergen County, New Jersey, where he served in the militia in the Revolution and married during the war. He and his wife Mary Young had children there and moved to New York City around the time the last child Helen was born (1795), for reasons unknown. From city directories, I see that by 1795 he had become a tavern keeper who also ran a boarding house starting 1795.

For the record, I have no indication that Henry was affected by mercury poisoning in any way; to the contrary, his pension affidavits indicate a man who retained all his faculties into his ninth decade.

Since the records do not describe Henry’s actual shop or daily routine, I asked ChatGPT for a historically informed sketch of what a hatter’s working life in Hackensack around 1795 might have looked like:

What would working life have been for a hatter in Hackensack, New Jersey, around 1795?

The LLM responded that “Around 1795, a hatter in Hackensack worked at the edge of town and country. Hackensack was a small county-seat village, tied to surrounding farms, courthouse business, taverns, stage routes, and the Hackensack River trade with New York. In a modest shop, perhaps near his home, the hatter turned wool and animal fur into felt hats by dampening, pressing, heating, shaping, stiffening, dyeing, blocking, trimming, and finishing them for local customers. His work served farmers, tradesmen, travelers, and men doing business at the county seat. A fine hat could signal respectability, while a cheaper or repaired hat met everyday needs. The trade required skill and patience, but the shop was likely hot, wet, dusty, smelly, and potentially hazardous if mercury-treated fur was used. In Hackensack, he was probably not a factory worker but a village craftsman: part manufacturer, part repairman, part shopkeeper, and part participant in the town’s web of credit, trade, and community life.”

I may never know why Henry Denny left the occupation behind, but I am enriched by having learned about how he supported his family.

AI Disclosure

This post was written by me with the help of AI tools for organization and editing. The memories, family details, and reflections are my own.