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DEATH OF A WEALTHY UNCLE
This Ann Arbor story begins with the death of a Washtenaw County pioneer and the vast fortune he left behind. Luther James, born in Western Massachusetts, arrived in Washtenaw County in the 1830s and began dealing in horses. He then turned his business skills toward the wool industry, buying Michigan Territory wool and shipping it east. His work greatly encouraged sheep farms in the area and, for a while, he was the largest wool-buyer in Michigan. In later years, he loaned money to local individuals and businesses. All of these efforts amassed him a sizable fortune, and he became one of Washtenaw County's wealthiest citizens.

Luther James never married and lived alone. As he aged, and his health deteriorated, he needed an assistant to manage his business affairs and help with his physical care. His unmarried nephew, James Babcock, stepped in to fill the role and became his constant companion. When Luther James died, on July 25, 1888, his nephew was his principle heir. Unfortunately for James Babcock, this inheritance came with a unique stipulation that would turn his life upside down.

THE UNMARRIED NEPHEW
James Leland Babcock was born February 10, 1840 in Goshen, Hampshire County, Massachusetts. He was raised in Western Massachusetts by his parents, Dr. Leland Babcock & Elizabeth (James) Babcock. His mother traced her family back to the pilgrims at Plymouth Rock. James was educated in Goshen and Northampton, MA, and eventually moved west to work in Chicago around 1860. The Great Chicago Fire in 1871, as well as his uncle Luther James, both prompted him to relocate to Ann Arbor.

James Babcock worked as a private secretary to his uncle, assisting him in the management of his assets, and accumulated a small fortune of his own in the process. His uncle loved to travel, and James would escort him to the South during the winters. Each summer they would travel to Waukesha, Wisconsin where they stayed at the popular resort of George Burroughs, and visited the "healthful benefits" of the Bethesda Spring.

In 1888, Uncle Luther James died. He left behind an estate valued at half a million dollars or more, the equivalent of nearly $17 million in 2024. When the will was read, the sum of $5,000 was left to each of Luther James' 21 nieces and nephews, as well as his two surviving sisters. The rest of his estate was left to James Babcock, his close confidant and favorite nephew. This should have been the end of the story, but Luther James had left a condition in his will: James Babcock must be married within five years from the time the will was probated, or his share of the inheritance would be divided among the other surviving family members. James Babcock, 48 year old Ann Arbor resident, suddenly needed to find a wife.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ALL THE SINGLE LADIES (and a few lonely men)
News of James Babcock's potential windfall spread across national newspapers, and even into Europe. Much like a current reality show with women lining up to marry a total stranger, single ladies across the country quickly jostled for the attention of James Babcock. No one seemed to be deterred by reports of him being "an abrupt, gray little man of 45", or the news that "In his slippers he stands up to five-feet-three".  His mailbox filled with correspondence from marriageable women of all ages, their parents, guardians, relatives, and friends. Each letter came from someone anxious to help him select a wife. James initially found these letters pleasant, but they quickly multiplied and grew to be a burden and an annoyance. He even received cables from women in England who worried that a steamship wouldn't deliver their letters quickly enough.

Many of the letter writers included photographs of themselves or someone else, all claiming to be beautiful. One music teacher remarked that her friends say "that she bears a striking resemblance to Mrs. President Cleveland." Single women looking for a wealthy husband contacted him from every state in the union. Massachusetts, New York, Wisconsin, Illinois, and Colorado, provided the largest amount of mail. Some letters arrived on delicate paper written in a fine hand, while others were impossible to decipher. Several letters were written in German, a language that James Babcock was not able to read. Many of the letters included poetry, some pulled from books and some crafted by the suitor herself. One widow from Detroit spoke of having three children that her parents were happy to take if Mr. Babcock did not want to be a father. Even men wrote to James Babcock, asking if he would share single women interested in marriage with other bachelors.

According to an 1888 article published in the San Francisco Chronicle titled "BESIEGED BY WOMEN," James took the time to read every letter. He devised a numbering and filing system for all of the correspondence, and jotted down notes about each potential suitor. When the amount of mail became too much for him to handle in his free time he was forced to hire a male secretary to take over the process.

San Francisco Chronicle, December 17, 1888, Page 6
EXAMPLES OF LETTERS TO THE BACHELOR
From Crystal Springs, Mass:
I have heard a great deal about you, and to say I am pleased with you does not express my feelings. What is the shape of your head? your complexion? Oh. Mr. Babcock, do you chew tobacco? I know I am all your heart could wish. I have a rich cream complexion that would charm the soul and paralyze the intellect. What is your ideal woman? I would practice until I reached perfection...

From Fairbury, Illinois:
...Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you my age, it is about 45, isn't that a nice age? I do hope this epistle will strike you favorably for I am so anxious to help you spend your fortune now pray do not keep me in suspense, but write to me ahead of my number and so relieve my mind, and if you write me favorably I will refuse to take in any more washings and feel that my hard lot in life is over, for I am so tired of washing for a living...

From Wareham, Mass:
Mr. Babcock: Here is one more letter from the Massachusetts surplus. If you are not too bitter a pill to take I will help protect you from the many lambs anxious to be taken into the fold. Understand, I do this from a sense of duty and not from greed. X. X.

From Indianapolis, Indiana:
I am really very much ashamed of my sex to think our American women would propose marriage to a gentleman for his wealth. I presume they will love your pocketbook and respect you...

From San Francisco, California:
I am the oldest of four children. If you have made your choice perhaps you know of some other gentleman friend who wants a wife...

THE BACHELOR CHOOSES A HOME

Ann Arbor Argus, June 2, 1891
Before James Babcock would choose a spouse, he would choose a new home. One sentence in the City & County section of the Ann Arbor Argus, June 2, 1891, quietly announced that James Babcock spent $10,000 on the purchase of 12 N. Division Street, the elegant former residence of the late Dr. Ebenezer Wells. Wells had been a physician, a banker, and the mayor of Ann Arbor during the Civil War. The stately mansion, which we now know as the Wells-Babcock House at 208 N. Division Street, was one of the finest homes in the city. Moving into the lavish dwelling only increased the fervor of women vying for his attention.

The Wells Babcock House, 208 North Division Street. The original address, 12 N. Division Street, is still noted above the grand front entrance.
 

THE BACHELOR CHOOSES A WIFE
As the years passed, stories circulated about who Mr. Babcock was engaged to marry. Several women claimed to be the chosen one, but none of these rumors proved to be true. In August 1892, after four years, and thousands of letters and proposals from potential spouses, it was announced that James Babcock was really, truly engaged.

On September 29, 1892, James Babcock married Ella Stanley Butler in her hometown of Waukesha, Wisconsin. The pair had met years before their marriage during James' regular vacations in Waukesha with his uncle, mother, and aunt. James appears to have thought Ella was engaged to another man, and proposed to her when he found out that she was actually single. The Waukesha Freeman ran a front page headline, "BRIDE AND FORTUNE. J. L. BABCOCK WINS BOTH ON HIS WEDDING DAY." Ella was a popular contralto who frequently sang in the area. On their wedding day James was 52 and Ella was 35, a seventeen year age difference. James had made the deadline set by his uncle, with one year left to spare. Much to the disappointment of countless single women, the news made headlines across the country.

Chattanooga Daily Times, Front Page, October 3, 1892
 

HAPPILY EVER AFTER
James & Ella Babcock used some of the inheritance money to renovate their large home. The Babcock coat of arms was commemorated in stained glass, leather wall coverings were shipped from Europe, pressed paper wall coverings were shipped from Boston, and mahogany furniture was upholstered in brocatelle. Many fine details of the home were upgraded and refurbished to reflect their personal taste, including Derby satin curtains, frescoed ceilings, and a Chickering grand piano. In December 1894, the Babcocks threw a party to show off their refashioned home. Nearly 300 invitations were sent out, and their residence soon became known as the site of many popular, upscale gatherings in Ann Arbor.

Philanthropy also became a focus of the Babcocks. One of the most important projects for James Babcock to support was back in his hometown of Goshen, Massachusetts. The John James Memorial Building, dedicated in 1911, was constructed as a town hall, library, and general civic center. John James was his great-grandfather, and the Babcocks contributed a portion of the funding to make the memorial a reality. Ella Babcock sang at the dedication ceremonies for the facility. The building still stands today and is on the National Register of Historic Places.

John James Memorial, Goshen, MA, 1929
On February 8, 1912, just two days before his 72nd birthday, James Babcock died at the Hollenbeck Hotel in Jacksonville, Florida. Ella and George Woods, his private secretary, escorted his body on a train back to Ann Arbor. He was buried in Forest Hill Cemetery, just steps from Dr. Ebenezer Wells, the former owner of his Ann Arbor home.

Three years later, in February 1915, Ella raised eyebrows in Ann Arbor when she married Allen Dudley. Ella was 57 years old, while Allen, a music student, had just turned 33. When she died on October 14, 1927, she was buried beside James in Forest Hill Cemetery. Little is known of what became of Allen Dudley, except that he moved to Beverly Hills, California and worked as a broker. He died in 1936. What happened to the fortune that started this whole story remains unknown.

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Dolores Preston Turner was born in Ann Arbor in the early 1940s, and her family lived in a small historically Black neighborhood on Woodlawn Avenue. She graduated from Ann Arbor High School, where she met her future husband, James Turner.