Catherine Kenney: Solving the Mystery of a Runaway Bride (and Mother-to-Be)

I’ve been chasing my husband’s great-grandmother, Catherine Kenney, since 2015. She left behind a trail of contradictions that made her one of those maddening ancestors who seemed determined to hide in plain sight. But after years of digging, thanks to Scripty (my AI pal) I’ve finally cracked the case: where she was born, who her parents were, and—yes—whether she was already pregnant when she married William Seeley.

How I did it is actually a long, convoluted story that I wrote first, outlining all the steps and documents “we” used to untangle the mess. But, I’ll spare you all that, because—well, because if you aren’t a genealogist, you’ll stop reading my blog afterwards! I did save the whole shebang, though. So, if you need something to lull you to sleep, let me know and I’ll send it your way!

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Born in Albany… or Not?

The 1855 New York State Census shows Catherine Kenney, age 17, living in Albany with Michael and Mary Kenney and several siblings. (Note: the enumerator wrote “Kinney” but I checked the city directories for several years. It’s Kenney.) The census boldly claims she was born in Ireland. Case closed, right?

Not so fast.

Her death certificate (1916, Chicago) lists her birthplace as New York, while naming her parents as Michael Kenney and Mary Allen, both from Ireland.

Then I stumbled on Irish parish registers, and there it was: a baptism for Catharine Kenny, daughter of Michael Kenny and Mary Allen, 8 January 1834 in Ireland. I also found several of her siblings’ baptisms as well. So that lined up with the census information.

So which is it? Albany? New York? Ireland?

Answer: Ireland. Always trust the baptism. Death certificates rely on whoever happened to be standing around when the undertaker asked.

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Parents or “Adoptive” Parents?

One theory floating around my research was that maybe Michael and Mary “adopted” Catherine in Albany. After all, Kenney/Kinney was about as common as Smith in 19th-century records.

But then Mary Kenney’s will (proved 1884) surfaced. She named “my daughter Catherine Seeley” right alongside her other children, leaving no wiggle room. Catherine wasn’t adopted. She was theirs, full stop.

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A Bride, a Baby, and a Timeline That Doesn’t Lie

Catherine herself liked to tell reporters she was married in 1860. The problem? Her daughter Ida was born July 2, 1860 in New Canaan, Connecticut. A quick trip backwards on the calendar means Catherine conceived Ida in October 1859.

So, either Catherine and William were married before then (and she was shading the truth), or the wedding happened with Catherine already visibly expecting. My money’s on the latter. Catherine wasn’t above dramatic timing.

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The Brick Walls That Still Mock Me

Do I have a marriage record for Catherine and William? Nope. I’ve combed Albany, Connecticut, and even considered whether they skipped the Catholic Church altogether (William wasn’t Catholic). Nada.

Do I have a passenger list showing Catherine’s arrival from Ireland? Also nope. Like half of Ireland, she seems to have slipped onto a boat in the 1850s and vanished into America without leaving so much as a paper stub.

At this point, I think Catherine herself would be delighted that she’s still managing to frustrate me more than 100 years after her death.

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The Final Verdict

I fed all the documents I had (and there were many!) into ChatGPT, wrote a prompt listing my questions, and Scripty returned a solid, point-by-point explanation. (Scripty even offered to write a report for my records. I said, “Yes, please!”)

After years of contradictory documents and head-scratching, trying to figure it out myself, here’s what I can finally say with confidence:

• Catherine was born in Ireland, baptized January 1834 to Michael Kenney and Mary Allen.
• She was not adopted—Mary’s will proves it.
• She had her first child at 26, which was on the older side for the time, but probably because…
• Catherine was almost certainly pregnant at her 1860 wedding to William Seeley.

It took me ten years, a pile of records, and a lot of swearing at censuses, but the mystery is solved.

And really, would it even be Catherine’s story if it didn’t come with missing records, conflicting evidence, and just enough scandal to keep things interesting?

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Click subscribe (you know you want to!) and then wander over to deborahsholman.com for more. That’s where I’m dishing out behind-the-scenes tidbits about my new book, Countess of Cons: The Story of a Gilded Age Grifter. Spoiler: Catherine’s schemes were outrageous enough to make even Netflix blush.