A reader recently asked if I knew the origin of Coult Lane in Old Lyme. She wondered whether there might be a tie-in to Samuel Colt, the firearms inventor and industrialist. The difference in spelling isn’t necessarily a problem because inconsistent renderings of surnames used to be common. I’m guessing there may be some connection between the Colts and Coults because they seemed to have an affinity for the same first names, and if you dig deeply enough we’re all related.

However, although I haven’t found a link, I discovered a different story that I liked better: an example of America as the land of opportunity for beleaguered immigrants.

Ernestina Fisher Coult socialized with some of Old Lyme’s most prominent families. She had proper Victorian calling cards with her name engraved in fancy font. Her children learned social graces at A.J. Spencer’s dancing class and were enrolled in Lyme Academy and Black Hall School to get the best educations. Ernestina had come a long way from the 12 year-old child who’d entered New York City Harbor on a crowded immigrant ship.

The Fishers were from Silesia, a Prussian province that had suffered economic and political turmoil during the European Revolutions of 1848. You can only imagine the conditions that impelled a family of 10, including an infant, to leave their homeland forever for an uncertain future, but the Fishers weren’t alone. In the decade after this upheaval, more than a million German-speaking people sought new lives in the United States. The Fishers settled in Old Lyme where Ernestina’s father and brothers found employment as farm laborers, while Ernestina became a servant in the Coult household.

The Coults had been in Lyme since the late 17th century. Their holdings were extensive, including property on Neck Road, Tantummahaeg Road, and today’s Coult Lane. William Ely Coult managed his farm and taught mathematics at the First District School.

When the Coults hired Ernestina, William was a confirmed bachelor in his late 50s, but something about her work ethic and perhaps her personality must have impressed him. When her parents left Connecticut to homestead out West, Ernestina didn’t go because William’s stepmother advised him that their young servant was too important to their household to be spared. Persuading William to retain Ernestina might not have been a hard sell because a few years later, when she was 21 years old and William was a senior citizen, the couple married.

Ernestina was in her 30s when her husband died, leaving her with a large farm to manage and four children to care for, the youngest of whom was just 6 years old. William’s estate was substantial, but hard work was required to maintain it. With the help of hired hands, Ernestina ran the farm, sold eggs and other produce to bring in extra money, raised her children, and still found time to nurture her friendships with local women, including Florence Griswold and Evelyn McCurdy. (McCurdy’s father was Charles McCurdy, lieutenant governor and Chief Justice of the Connecticut Supreme Court.)

The Lyme Historical Society Archives at the Florence Griswold Museum contain lots of information about the Coults. For example, they have one of William’s lesson plans that used wine measurements as a math exercise, which may have grabbed the attention of budding connoisseurs. There’s a studio portrait of the Coults’ daughter, Abby, looking lovely in a chic hat and feather boa. Another charming picture shows Ernestina at a clambake with one of her daughters and a friend. Although the women are sitting on a beach, they’re turned out for the occasion in stylish hats, high-necked blouses and long skirts.

Ernestina may have been lucky in matrimony, but she was also smart, hard-working and adept at making friends. When she died in 1919, her obituary characterized her as a woman with “lifelong habits of usefulness, charity and honor,” an enviable epitaph for any of us.

Carol Sommer of Waterford is a self-proclaimed history nut. She writes a monthly history column inspired by local street signs.