Recently, I’ve been reading the Claiborne County, Tennessee court minutes 1829-1843 page by page at FamilySearch. Not because I really WANT to, but because I need to and there is no every-name index available for the years in question. As genealogists desperate to discover information about our ancestors, we do what we need to do and there are lots of buried goodies here!

The court minutes are full of all kinds of routine proceedings which include a great deal of both evident and hidden information.

• Men are assigned to road crews which tells you who their neighbors are and what road they live on.
• Men are assigned to collect taxes in their districts, which tells you which district they live in and who was the head of the volunteer militia in that district. Both tax collectors and militia leaders are men clearly in good standing and healthy.
• Residents who were insolvent and could not pay their taxes. These notes state that some had left the state or county.
• Men were summoned for jury duty and served as commissioners which tells you that they were white, owned land and were considered upstanding citizens.
• Wills were recorded, probated and estates managed. Supplies for the widows were portioned while the estate was in probate, which means the widow was named.
• People, mostly but not always men, were arrested and their families or neighbors posted bond, assuring they would show up in court. Not a lot different than today.
• Poor people were cared for in the homes of neighbors or other residents and the county paid for their care. A lot different than today.
• Guardians were appointed for orphans and the orphans ages were given.
• People were sued by their neighbors for trespass, which generally meant a disputed property line.
• Registration of livestock earmarks.
• Payment for wolf scalps, after which the sheriff burned the scalp so they couldn’t be claimed a second time by someone else
• “Juries” were assigned to survey and lay out roads, “the best way,” with as little damage to property as possible. Often property owners adjacent the road were named.
• A jailer was paid for each prisoner who was named, but there generally weren’t many.

Every now and then, something really scandalous happened – although most of the time the trials were financial in nature. In one case, three men were tried for fighting within sight of the court. I’d love to know what that was about.

One of the most common types of cases was debt. If the debtor had no personal property that could be sold, then their land was attached and sold for the amount of the debt in question. Generally, these transactions provided a description of the property in question, including location, landmarks and neighbors, which can be a godsend when the deed books in question have been destroyed or disappeared as is the case with some Claiborne County records.

Court ordered sales were often not recorded from the previous owner to the new owner, but from the sheriff or constable to the new owner, making tracking the land forward or backward using deeds impossible. The court records provide that missing link.

I’ve been looking for three things in particular dealing with two ancestors and one of their children. Mind you, none of which I’ve found so far which begets many questions and so far, no answers. But them, I’m only through page 360 of 736, which means I have a lot more opportunity to find something.

Plus, I’ve discovered that reading these court notes cures insomnia, but only as long as you are sitting in front of your computer

I did discover something about another ancestor, quite unexpected and heartbreaking.

Elijah Vannoy’s Trouble

Elijah Vannoy was born about 1784 in Wilkes County, North Carolina. I wrote about Elijah’s life, but when reading the court minutes, I discovered a chapter I didn’t know before.

Elijah was in Claiborne County by 1817 and obtained two land grants, one in 1826 and one in 1829. The land grant process took several years from the time a grant was applied for, the land surveyed, and the actual land was patented and registered with the county clerk – although the men were living on and farming the land that entire time. There were costs involved too; the filing fees, the surveyor and the recording fees. Many times grants weren’t actually recorded for many years, some descending to heirs without having been properly recorded.

On Elijah’s two land grants, his name is spelled Elijah Venoy and it’s spelled the same way in the court record as well. This makes me wonder if Venoy is how Elijah actually spelled his surname – although we know from his deeds that he didn’t write later in his life. However, in 1817, it appears that he did sign his signature and it was Vannoy.

Elijah makes a few other appearances in the records. In 1818, Elisha Venoy was assigned to a road crew. He was called for jury duty once in 1820, but never again. Many men were called repeatedly. Then, there’s a long gap.

On image 351, page 224 in the actual minute book, at the court session taking place on Wednesday, Dec. 17, 1834, I found the following suit which I’ve transcribed in summary:

Thomas R. McClary vs Elijah Venoy. Found for plaintiff against defendant for the sum of $12.58… no (personal) property found, debt levied against two tracts of land. 125 acres lying on the waters of Mulberry Creek, beginning on an oak and hickory, corner of my twenty five (should say 125) acre survey and survey of John Rays beginning with John Rays chestnut corner bounded by J. Coles and Bakers, this entry number 549 (difficult to read but verified with the actual entry) and 100 acres entry no 272 lying on the north side of Big Mulberry creek beginning at a white oak and maple near a branch and running due west and various other courses for ? so as to include the improvement he (Elijah) lives on. November 19, 1834. Court ordered the sale together with costs.

On November 19^th, the sheriff had gone to Elijah’s and surveyed what property he had, culminating with the recommendation that he had nothing to sell, which meant no cattle, horses, pigs, corn, wagon, nothing. The sheriff’s recommendation was to sell not one, but both of Elijah’s tracts of land – which included the one Elijah lived on.

That’s Brutal

While I certainly understand that’s how the legal system worked, it’s brutal. Why take both of Elijah’s pieces of land? Why not sell one, the one without his home, and see if the debt was covered before selling the second one? 100 acres of land was selling for a lot more than $12.58 in Claiborne County at that time, especially with “improvements.”

In 1834, Elijah was 50 years old. His wife, Lois McNiel either had died since 1830, or would die before 1840. In the 1830 census, Elijah still had 9 children at home – 3 males and 6 females. At 50 years of age, Elijah had no prayer of starting over AND he had children to raise. By 1840, Elijah still had 4 children at home and Lois was assuredly gone.

It is the greatest of ironies that the property owner a few years ago still had Elijah’s original land grant for the property. Few of these State-issued grants remain nearly 200 years later, so this is a rare document indeed. These were the documents shown for the land to be registered, then retained by the property owner. And now, Elijah was losing this land.

What was Elijah to do? Where would he live? How would he support his family without a farm or any resources?

Joel Tries to Help

As it turns out, in 1833, Elijah’s son, Joel, also obtained a land grant. Joel was young, just 20 in 1833, but Joel tried to help his father by putting a mortgage on his own adjacent land to prevent his father’s land from being sold.

In 1836, both Joel and Elijah are listed on the tax list, but by 1839, only Joel and his younger brother, Elijah Jr. who owned no land but paid a poll tax appeared.

The elder Elijah is missing on the tax list entirely, probably indicating that he is living with another person and had no personal property or real estate. He was not listed as a head of household, but he was a year later in the 1840 census, suggesting perhaps that he was still living in his house on land that someone else, namely Joel, owned.

A Poll Tax had to be paid by and for every while male age 21-50 in order to be eligible to vote. Elijah Sr. would have been 55 in 1839, so he would have been exempt from Poll Tax, but if he owned land or other taxable goods, he would still have had to pay the other taxes due.

Joel, however, is listed with 225 acres total worth $500. It appears that Joel probably owns his own 100 acre tract as well as his father’s 125 acre tract, which is probably where Elijah is living. It appears that Elijah’s 100 acre tract with the house is gone, although later deeds raise confusion about which property was actually retained.

Chickens Come Home to Roost

By 1841 the chickens had come home to roost. Joel and Elijah were refinancing, in today’s vernacular. Both men signed a joint deed of trust because they owed merchants more than they could pay. Elijah signed a mortgage against his wagon and team of oxen, Three months later, two more debts were filed and now both Elijah and Joel are signing deeds of trust for their land. Elijah was indebted to William Houston, merchant in Tazewell, for $33.08, plus interest and to William Fugate for $62.50.

Then, Elijah sells land for $5 to Walter Evans in a deed of trust, stating that if he doesn’t make payments, Walter can sell the land on the courthouse steps in Tazewell.

Elijah also sells land to William Cole for $50.

In October 1845, 11 years after the original Claiborne County suit, both Elijah and Joel, probably very weary of the battle, jointly sold Elijah’s land, signing together, for $250, half of Joel’s land value on the 1839 tax list. The debt being paid was probably to William Fugate because he witnessed the deed, probably anxious to walk out of the room with his funds.

These debts had probably been accumulating and increasing with each refinancing since before 1834. Borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, until that pattern was no longer sustainable.

By 1845, Joel was 33 years old and had lived with this problem his entire adult life. In January, he had married Phoebe Crumley and I’m sure they wanted to start a life of their own, unencumbered by the behemoth that was clearly not going to resolve itself.

Was There More to the Story?

In 1845, at more than 60 years of age, Elijah went to live with his daughter, Sarah and her husband Joseph Adams, probably a broken man.

Elijah died sometime between the 1850 and 1860 census, his burial location lost to time.

Joel remained in Hancock County (upper right, below) until after 1860 according to the census, but sometime during or after the Civil War, in which Joel was reported to be a Rebel sympathizer, he moved down the valley a few miles to the Little Sycamore community in Claiborne County to start over on what would become Vannoy Road.

This part of Hancock County saw families torn between the Union and the Confederacy, and not only was there fighting between the north and south, there was infighting between family members. Joel’s wife’s niece and family were murdered for being northern sympathizers.

By 1870, Joel was living in Claiborne County in the Little Sycamore community where his children were marrying neighbors. He apparently owned land, according to the census, but things began not adding up. First, just hints of trouble and oddities, then clear indications.

While Joel Vannoy did “purchase” land again, his life was haunted by the demons of mental illness. By 1872, in Claiborne County, land was deeded to Joel’s wife, Phoebe, instead of to Joel. Deeding land to a wife when the husband was living simply did not happen in that day, time and place. It became impossible to ignore these “irregularities.”

Apparently, by age 50, Joel’s mental health had deteriorated to the point where he could no longer conduct business. No one seemed to question why his wife owned the land instead of Joel, so Joe’s condition was clearly known as a fact and not disputed within the community or by the court.

Fourteen years later, Joel was transported to the “hospital for the insane” in Knoxville, not long after it first opened. According to records of the now-closed facility, obtained in the 1980s, other Vannoy family members were treated in the same facility some years later.

Fifty years of age is the exact age of Elijah in 1834 when the Claiborne County court ordered both of his pieces of property sold for a debt of $12.58 which is equivalent to about $360 today.

Maybe there was more going on than Elijah simply needing $12.58. Had Elisha been suffering from the same creeping and intensifying mental illness that Joel eventually suffered from too? According to family members, Joel’s condition worsened throughout his life. In the end, he had to be “watched” 24X7 and could never be left alone given that he was disconnected from reality. Based on what the family said and his behaviors, I would guess that Joel had a form of schizophrenia, which can be hereditary, and Elijah may have suffered from the same disease.

Any of these problems, unmanageable debt, possible mental illness, or raising children alone is bad enough. However, combined, they may have snowballed on both Elijah and Joel as well. How kind of Joel to attempt to help his father and how sad that it didn’t work, especially after such a long battle, approaching a dozen years.

I can see the two saddened men, father and son, walking together along this creek perhaps, on Elijah’s land, by then owned by Joel, perhaps trying to make it through until they could at least harvest the crops. Maybe, just maybe those crops would bring enough to pay the debt? Maybe this year?

But the fall of 1845 was no different and they had to make that final, agonizing decision to sell the last piece of Elijah’s land, acquiescing to the fact that they had reached the end of the road. The inevitable had arrived and there was nothing left for them to do. They had fought a long, losing battle and Elijah would have to leave the idyllic little valley and the land he had cleared and farmed along Mulberry Creek, for more than two decades, yet he would live close enough to watch another man farm the land for the rest of his life.

Still, Elijah handed his cherished grant paper for the land he had struggled so long to keep to the next owner. Elijah didn’t have to do that. The deed had already been registered. Thank goodness he did though, because it’s how we verified that indeed, we had found Elijah’s land. A gift to future generations that he didn’t know he was making.

Knowing that Elijah was raising children alone, having lost his wife, farm, home and resources is both tragic and heartbreaking, especially understanding that there may have been yet another health issue complicating factors. All for the lack of $12.58 in 1834.

But that I could send $12.58 back through time and perhaps change the final chapters of Elijah’s life.

Nicholas Speak, Speake or Speaks, depending on who was spelling it when, was an ancestor who reunited a family some 200 years after his birth on March 3, 1782 in Charles County, Maryland.

In the 1980s, when I first connected to the Speak line, I found my wonderful cousins, Dolores Ham and Lola-Margaret Hall.

Lola-Margaret assembled a great deal of research in order to portray Sarah Faires, Nicholas’s wife. Lola-Margaret above and shown here presenting “Sarah’s likeness” in the very church established by Nicholas.

When I began researching Nicholas, cousin Dolores had already been on his trail for years. I am greatly indebted to both of my cousins for their diligent research and for sharing so freely. Nicholas has not been an easy ancestor to research.

Thank you.

Nicholas’s Birth

Nicholas was born to Charles Beckworth or Beckwith Speak and his wife whose identity remains unknown, in Charles County Maryland.

You’d never guess by the fact that Nicholas eventually established a Methodist Church in Lee County, Virginia, but Nicholas was born Catholic. Someplace between Charles County, Maryland and Lee County, Virginia about 1820, Nicholas not only converted, he became a minister in the Methodist faith.

We don’t know much about Nicholas’s young years, but we do know that by 1787, his father, Charles, appears on a tax list in Rowan County, NC. Nicholas would have been about 5. Nicholas probably remembered little, if anything, about Maryland. We don’t know how long the family had lived in North Carolina prior to 1787.

Nicholas’s mother died sometime between his birth and July 16, 1789 when his father remarried to Jane or Jean Conners in Rowan County. If I had to guess, and I do, I would surmise that Nicholas’s mother died in North Carolina not terribly long before his father remarried, because raising children alone for a father in frontier North Carolina would have been next to impossible.

In 1789, Nicholas would have been 7 years old.

By 1793, Charles had purchased land in Iredell County, NC, which is located just east of the Appalachian mountain range.

We don’t know exactly what, but something unfortunate happened, and Charles died before September 1794 when his estate was sold.

At this time, Nicholas would have been all of 12 years old, an orphan in a location with little family.

In May of 1795, guardianship of Nicholas and his siblings, Joseph, Thomas, John and James was assigned to one Richard Speaks for the boys and one Elizabeth Speaks for Nicholas’s sister, Elizabeth Speaks. Who are Richard and Elizabeth Speaks? How are they related to each other? We have no idea, but they were clearly kin of some description. We also have no idea what happened to any of Nicholas’s siblings.

What became of Nicholas’s step-mother, Jane or Jean? We don’t have the answer to that either – however – given the fact that the guardianship was not made until probably nearly a year after Charles death, I wonder if the children were living with Jane/Jean and something happened to her too during this time period.

Nicholas and his 4 brothers went to live with Richard who apparently lived in Rowan County on Bear Creek which intersects with the Yadkin River through the South Yadkin.

Bear Creek originates about 15 miles north of the Yadkin in a lake near 398 Log Cabin Road today.

Nicholas lived someplace along this wooded creek which essentially parallels the road, above.

By 1797, Richard Speaks sold land in Rowan County on Bear Creek as a resident of Washington County, Tennessee – so apparently Nicholas, now 15, moved with his guardian, because that’s where we find Nicholas first appearing in the records a few years later.

It would be here that Nicholas met Sarah Faires or Farris whose father, Gideon, is noted in Survey Book I in 1781 as being entitled to 250 acres and stating that actual settlement was made in 1768. Sarah grew up on the frontier.

Washington County was the land of land and opportunity. Nicholas was probably relieved to stay in one place for a few years. His journey from Zachia Manor in Maryland to Rowan County, to Iredell County, back to Rowan and then to Washington County, Virginia, combined with the deaths of his mother, father and step-mother had to be unnerving for a young man. Perhaps they would have destroyed a lesser man, but they may have served to forge Nicholas’s personality and steel him for the future.

Yes, Nicholas needed to settle down for awhile and stay put.

Wedding Bells

Seven years after arriving in Washington County, Virginia, on August 12, 1804, at the age of 22, Nicholas Speaks married Sarah Faires.

The marriage was performed by the Rev. Charles Cummings, a Presbyterian minister reflecting the faith of Sarah’s family. Rev. Cummings is buried at Sinking Springs, one of the churches where he preached.

Sarah and Nicholas probably attended either the Ebbing Springs Church (now the Glade Spring Church), or Sinking Springs Presbyterian church in Abington, Washington County, both of which were served by the fiery Reverend Cummings.

Let’s face it, even if Charles Speak and his wife were both practicing Catholics, there were no Catholic churches in the wilderness of the frontier. By the time Nicholas arrived in Washington County with his guardian, the family would have worshiped at whatever local churches existed.

As one of my minister friends so succinctly put it years ago, people attended the “church of opportunity” where they lived. Worshiping God was more important to them than the trappings and specific sect rules put in place by different versions of Christianity.

By 1804, Nicholas was a practicing Presbyterian.

The First Hint of Methodism

The first hint of how Nicholas might have become Methodist is held in the journal of Methodist Bishop Francis Asbury stating that he had visited in the home of Gideon Faires.

Asbury was one of the first Methodist Bishops in America, volunteering to travel the colonies, then the frontier, on horseback serving in essence as a horseback-riding missionary.

This suggests that it’s likely that Gideon embraced the faith of this new religion of Methodism, probably sometime after his daughter married in 1804, and possibly after Reverend Cummings death in 1816. Perhaps Sarah and Nicholas were also inspired by this new faith as Methodist circuit riders traveled the area evangelizing the new settlers.

The Revival of 1800, a series of evangelical “Camp Meetings” in Kentucky and Tennessee combined both Presbyterian and Methodist communion observances and impressed Asbury deeply. The Camp Meetings in which settlers’ entire families would travel sometimes for days by wagon to “camp” at a meeting house (church) or even in a field to hear evangelical preachers became a staple of the frontier social and religious life. These meetings continued into the 1900s in the area of Virginia and Tennessee where Nicholas established the Speaks Methodist Church.

Wikipedia tells us that Asbury preached in myriad places: courthouses, public houses, tobacco houses, fields, public squares, wherever a crowd assembled to hear him. Beginning in 1784 with his ordination and for the remainder of his life he rode an average of 6,000 miles each year, preaching virtually every day and conducting meetings and conferences. Under his direction, the Methodist church grew from 1,200 to 214,000 members and 700 ordained preachers. Nicholas would become be one of them.

According to cousin Dolores:

Nicholas Speak and his family participated in the camp meetings held at the Jonesville Campground, today the site of the Jonesville Campground Methodist Church. The first Camp Meeting was held about 1810, under a brush arbor. In 1827, a shed or tabernacle was constructed in the center of the grounds and covered with clapboards. The original camps were mostly built of logs inside the enclosure of the rock wall. Crude beds, tables and seats were built and left with the camp from year to year. These camps were burned during the Civil War when the Confederate troops camping there left hurriedly without extinguishing their fires.

“In the early days the people came from far and near, by wagon drawn by oxen or horses, by horseback, or walked to worship at the annual camp meeting. They brought with them enough food, bedding, and cooking utensils for their families and friends, also feed for their livestock, to last the duration of the meeting, a week or ten days.” (Early Settlers of Lee County, VA and Adjacent Areas, Volume I, 1977, Anne W. Laningham, pp. 9-10).

Our ancestor, Nicholas Speak, is listed as a participant in the early church minutes pertaining to this campground. In another reference to the camp meeting held at the Jonesville Camp Ground beginning Aug. 13, 1836 (also the time of a “Quarterly Conference”), Nicholas Speak is listed as a L.E. (local elder) and John Speak (son of Nicholas) is listed as a Classleader. (Ibid., pp. 9-10)

Dola Queener, then of Jacksboro, TN, sent me this explanation of Local Elder, since I am not familiar with Methodism. “Elders are ministers who have completed their formal preparation for the ministry of word, sacrament and order; have been elected itinerant members in full connection with an annual conference; and have been ordained elders in accordance with the order and discipline of the Methodist Church.” This comes from “The Book of Discipline 1984, page 219, Article 432-1.”

Elsewhere, I found reference to Nicholas as a “located minister,” which leads me to believe that Nicholas was the pastor of Speaks Chapel Church and did not preach at other churches on a regular basis.

Photo courtesy Dolores Ham.

Life in Washington County, VA

Like Francis Asbury, Nicholas may have traveled to attend Camp Meetings in Tennessee and Kentucky, but he and Sarah lived in Washington County, VA where 9 of their children were born between 1804 and 1822. The last two children were born after the family moved to Lee County, VA about 1823.

Nicholas and Sarah owned land in Washington County, VA. In deed book 4, pages 231-232, we find that on October 17, 1809 William Brown and Elizabeth his wife of Washington County conveyed 60 acres lying on the south side of the Holston River. Unfortunately, the Holston has three branches in present day Washington County, so without running the deeds forward in time, it’s impossible to know which of the three branches hosted Nicholas’s land.

Then, on December 18, 1810, on page 396 of the same book, Nicholas Speak purchased 28 acres from Robert and Jane Caldwell lying on the north side of Little Stone Mountain, adjacent to William Hickenbottom’s land and also to the corner of Mifflin’s land, also in Washington County.

Little Stone Mountain is on the Powell River in present day Wise County, VA, bordering the Jefferson National Forest. This is rough terrain, and no place close to the Holston River. It’s possible that I’ve misidentified this location, but I don’t find another Little Stone Mountain and Wise County was taken from Washington County.

Then, in deed book 5, pages 61 and 170, on February 16, 1813, Nicholas and Sarah sold both tracts to Christopher Ketring of Washington County, Virginia.

Where they lived from 1813 until 1822 when their last child was born in Virginia is a mystery.

Regardless of where they lived, the War of 1812 interrupted their lives.

War of 1812

Nicholas was drafted to served in the War of 1812 on August 15, 1814 and served in the 7^th Regiment of the Virginia Militia in the Company of Abram Fulkerson, serving at Fort Barbour at Norfolk, VA.

Nicholas was honorably discharged from Fort Barbour (above) on February 22, 1815, making his way the 380+ miles to home, crossing a mountain range, probably on foot.

Nicholas’s military file indicates that he was drafted in Virginia August 15, 1814 and served for 6 months and was honorably discharged at Fort Barbour on February 22, 1815.

Thankfully, even though Nicholas had lost his original discharge papers, in 1850, he petitioned for bounty land.

Nicholas’s petition from the National Archives packet carries his original signature!

Following Nicholas’s death in 1852, in May of 1855, Sarah petitioned for another bounty land grant, adding more information. Sarah and says Nicholas was discharged at Norfolk, VA and that he was drafted in Washington Co., VA She also states that they were married in Washington Co., VA in 1803 by Rev. Cummings, the Presbyterian minister. She provides Nicholas death date as well, June 2, 1852. Sarah signed with her mark.

The Move to Lee County, VA

In the 1820 census, Nicholas and family are living in Washington County, VA, but they moved to Lee County before the 1830 census.

Nicholas Speaks is in the 1830 Lee. Co. Va. census age 40-50, wife 30-40, 2 males 5-10, 1 male 10-15, 2 males 15-20, 1 female under 5, 1 female 5-10, 1 female 10-15. Three people were participating in agriculture.

We know the family moved about 1823 when the first land transaction occurred listing Nicholas as living in Washington County. Since the land was purchased in November 1823, did they move yet that winter, or did they wait until warmer weather?

Nicholas Speaks from Robert Cumings, November 29, 1823 – Lee County Deed book 5, page 145.

Nicholas bought another piece of land in 1837.

Nicholas Speaks from Samuel Ewing April 11, 1837 – Lee County Deed book 7, page 302.

We don’t know what motivated the move to Lee County. It appears that Nicholas and Sarah did not own land in Washington County, so the move to Lee County would not have been complicated by land ownership.

By 1824, Nicholas was on the Lee County, VA tax list, photo courtesy either Dolores or Lola-Margaret.

The Early Settlers of Lee County, Virginia book features Nicholas Speak on page 947, providing the following information:

Nicholas Speak of Washington Co., VA, on 29 Nov. 1823, purchased a tract of land lying in Lee, Virginia, USA on the head of a small east branch of Martins Creek (now known as Speaks Branch) containing 520 acres, from Robert E. &Mary Cummings of Washington Co. for $780 (DBK 5, 145).

After the purchase of this land, Nicholas Speak removed with his family to Lee Co., and settled on his newly acquired land where he became a well-known citizen and a leader in the County and the community. Nicholas Speak was a minister of the Methodist Episcopal Church, was the founder and a piller of the Church bearing his name–Speaks Chapel.

In deed book 8, p. 216A, Nicholas Speak conveyed the land for the Methodist Episcopal Church to Tandy Welch, William Morgan, Adam Yeary, of Claiborne Co., TN, and Charles Speak and Nathan Hobbs of Lee, Virginia, USA, for one dollar, and specifies that it shall be used for the said church.

Martin’s Creek, Now Speaks Branch

Over time, Martin’s Creek became known as Speak’s Branch.

Speaks Branch, the beautiful little spring that sustained Nicholas and family.

Today, this property is located on Speaks Branch Road.

Speaks Methodist Church

In 1839, Nicholas insured his legacy, and his church, would last what I’m sure he hoped was forever.

Again, from the Early Settlers book under the title of “A Brief History of Speaks Chapel Methodist Episcopal Church:”

In the year 1839, Nicholas SPEAK, Sr., deed to the members of the Methodist Episcopal Church for their use, a tract of land or lot of land, as shown by deed DBK 8, p. 216A, recorded in Lee, Virginia, USA. The deed is the only written evidence I have been able to find in regard to the church. There is no written evidence in existence telling when the church was organized or by whom.

The original building was a large log structure, with seats made by split logs, with holes bored in them with pins inserted for legs. The heating equipment was made by two box like frames about 5 by 5 feet square, and 12 inches high, which were placed on the floor and filled with earth. In the center of these squares was heaped large piles of charcoal, which served as fuel and heated the building nicely, the smoke passing out through the roof as there was no overhead ceiling. The original building was used to teach school in for many years. I attended my first school there 75 years ago. (M. M. SPEAK) (Note by writer: No date is given for the compilation).

After the Civil War when the “division” came in the church, both branches of the Church used this building for worship for many years. Finally a misunderstanding arose in regard to who was the legal owners of the property. Most of the M.E’s withdrew their membership, and built a church over by Powell River. The church is known as the Fairview M.E. Church. This upheaval became near being the undoing of the two branches of the church in this community as neither has been very prosperous since, but, thankful to a ‘faithful few,’ Speaks Chapel is still functioning.

I am not a member of the Methodist Church but I have always been interested in Speaks Chapel and always will be. My parents and all their people were members of this church. “My sincere hope and prayer is: That God in his mercy and wisdom will help the church at Speaks Chapel to become strong again and once again become a ‘Power for God,’ as it was when I was a boy.

Names of some of the original members: Nicholas Speak, Sr. and wife; Jonathan Haynes & wife; James Bartley and wife; John Speak, Sr. and wife; Tandy Welsh; William Morgan; Adam Yeary; Charles Speak; Nathan Hobbs; Fanny Speak Rosenbaum; Rebecca Speak Rosenbaum; Henderson Rosenbaum; Samuel Speak & wife; William Hardee (Hardy) & wife.

Names of some of the present members now living near Speaks Chapel: Lillie Davis, Susie Levins, Mary Fee, James Rosenbaum, Charlie Ball, J. A. Rosenbaum, Vola King, Charlie Rosenbaum, John Ball, Mrs. Robert Saylor,Emma Edds, Roy DeBusk, Mae DeBusk, Sheffie Rosenbaum.” (Note: Mr. Robert L. Rosenbaum, a descendant of the Speak family, contributed the History of Speaks Chapel by M. M. Speak.)

This account given on pp. 951-952 of “Early Settlers of Lee, Virginia, USA”, as was the following deed. “Deed Book 17, p. 215, 30 May 1874: Samuel Speak, John Speak, James A. Speak, Fanny J. Rosenbalm; to John Speak, Stokely Dagley, Tilman T. Ball, John Botner, William H. Speak, James A. Speak, James Bartley, George Baumgardner, Jonathan Haynes, Fi[e]lding Speak, trustees, grant trustees and their successors…west side of Glade Branch, for the benefit of the Methodist Episcopal Church and Methodist Episcopal Church South joingly…free from ourselves, heirs….William A. Speak a justice acknowledged deed, etc.

In a letter to his daughter, Fannie Speak Parrott, Marion Mitchell Speak (b 1866) says, “It was the first church I attended preaching and Sunday School at.” Also, “I attended my first school at the old church house – as there was no school house in the neighborhood when I became school age.

Today, an old school or church bell is installed beside the church although the provenance is unknown.

Nicholas assuredly wanted to guarantee that the church would remain viable, which prompted him to deed the acre of land where the church stood to the church trustees, which included his son, Charles Speak.

Cousin Dolores transcribed the deed:

To Tandy Welch, Trustee of Speaks Chapel Methodist Episcopal Church

This Indenture made this ____ day of ____ in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and thirty nine Between Nicholas Speak of Lee County and State of Virginia of one part and Tandy Welch, William Morgan, Adam Yeary, Charles Speak and Nathan Hobbs, trustees in trust for the use and purpose herein after mentioned all of the County of Lee and State aforesaid (Morgan, Welch and Yeary of Claiborne County and State of Tennessee) Witnesseth that the said Nicholas Speak for and in consideration of the sum of one dollar in specie to him in hand paid the receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged hath given granted bargained and sold and by these presents doth grant bargain and sell unto the said Tandy Welch, William Morgan, Adam Yeary, Charles Speak and Nathan Hobbs and their successors (trustees) a certain lot or parcel of land containing one acre and 9 poles lying and being in the county and State aforesaid and bounded as follows Beginning at a white oak on the west side of Glade branch S 150 W 13 poles crossing the branch to a white oak near rocks N700 E 13 poles to a double dogwood & white oak N 150 E 13 poles to a white oak thence a strait line to the Beginning to have and to hold the said tract of land with all appurtenances, and privileges thereunto belonging, or in any ways appertaining unto the said Tandy Welch, William Morgan, Adam Yeary, Charles Speak and Nathan Hobbs and their successors in office forever for the use of the members of the Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States according to the rules and disciplin which from time to time may be agreed upon and adopted by the ministers and preachers of the said Church, at their general Conference in the United States. And in further trust and confidence that they shall at all times permit such ministers and preachers, belonging to said M. E. Church to preach and expound the word of God therein. And the said Nicholas Speak doth by these presents warrant and forever defend the before mentioned piece of land with the appurtenances thereto belong unto the before mentioned trustees and their successors in office forever against the claim of all persons whomsoever. In testimony whereof the said Nicholas Speak has hereunto set his hand and seal the day and year aforesaid.

Nicholas Speak {Seal}

At a court of quarter sessions continued and held for Lee County at the courthouse thereof on the 19th day of June 1839 This Indenture of bargain and sale for land between Nicholas Speak of the one part, and Tandy Welch, William Morgan, Adam Yeary, Charles Speak and Nathan Hobbs of the other part, was acknowledged in open court and ordered to be recorded.

During this time, people came from a significant distance to attend church. Both Tandy Welch and Charles Speak lived in the 4 Mile Creek/Slanting Misery area of Claiborne (now Hancock) County, Tennessee on the Powell River, yet they were obviously faithful members.

The earliest known picture of the Speaks Methodist Church is this one taken about 1910. I wonder if the bell was housed in the little steeple structure on top of the church.

Another view, judging from the ladder, taken at the same time, photo provided by Dolores Ham.

The church is small and one room. This photo would have been taken 50 years after the “division” occurred. I can’t help but wonder if the division was precipitated by the Civil War.

This entire region was terribly torn, some fighting and dying for the South, and some for the North. Emotions ran high, not just during the war but for the following half century. Just about everyone had a family member who died in service and some families had members who died fighting for opposite sides. No one was ambivalent.

Nicholas’s son-in-law, William Rosenbalm, died in a Northern Prison Camp and Nicholas’s granddaughter’s husband, Samuel Claxton, died as a result of fighting for the Union. Those are only two examples. These families were ripped apart during and the generation following the Civil War.

Within the family, there is also a persistent rumor of a fire burning the church at one time, but no one seems to have any further information.

The current church building is this same structure, with a couple of additions, so if a fire occurred, it would have been before roughly 1910. The building in the 1910 photo does not look new, so probably before 1900 if it happened at all. It could possibly have occurred during the Civil War when much unrest occurred in this region and troops from both sides moved through.

The interior of the church today probably doesn’t look much like the original. You can see more photos by reading the article about when I was baptized in this very church. What a special way to bond with Nicholas with my wonderful cousins in attendance. I felt Nicholas’s presence that day.

For many years, there were less than a dozen church members with a wonderful volunteer minister who could only preach every few weeks. Today many of those members have passed away and the minister is no longer regularly available for the few who are left. I believe the congregation has been combined with another church, and Speaks Chapel is now vacant – which pains my heart terribly.

The future of this historic church and building is uncertain. Currently the Speaks Family Association (SFA) provides some funding for maintenance and upkeep, but without a minister and members, the future may not be as a church.

The Speaks Family Association erected this marker to commemorate the church.

The Cabin

Nicholas’s cabin was abandoned and in grave disrepair in the 1970s. In fact, the family today thought it had simply fallen down and disintegrated, but that wasn’t the case.

The color photo was taken just before what was left of the cabin was disassembled and removed.

Seeing how tiny this cabin actually is, consider that Nicholas and Sarah raised 11 children here, along with several grandchildren.

This is the “mansion house,” Nicholas left in his will for his daughters, Fanny and Rebecca who were not married at the time of his death, which they were to receive after the death of Sarah. “Mansion house” at that time doesn’t have the same connotation that it does today. Mansion house was the primary home on a property. Many mansion houses were referenced as being about 12 by 16 feet, similar to what we see, above.

In the 1970s, a history teacher purchased Nicholas Speak’s cabin for the wood and subsequently, lovingly, integrated it with another cabin left to him by his grandfather.

The cabin was under re-construction, above.

This beautiful building still stands today a few miles away, near Cumberland Gap.

Not only were the owners extremely gracious and welcoming, inviting us to visit, the view of the Appalachian mountain woodlands is stunning. I could live right here on the porch. I can see myself quilting forever.

The owner was extremely generous, inviting me, Lola-Margaret and Dolores to visit and offering us a tour several years ago.

Actually, truth be told, I kidnapped both Lola-Margaret and Dolores and in essence, told them that they both urgently needed to come with me, “right now.” This was literally a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and it was a now-or-never situation. They hurriedly told their spouses they were leaving the hotel with me, leaving the spouses quite befuddled, and we excitedly got into the car, with me explaining on the way. That conversation started out with, “Well, you’re never going to believe this, but….”

To say this visit seemed surreal is an understatement.

This little cabin is stunningly beautiful. The downstairs is living area, with a contemporary kitchen added, out of sight in the rear. The owners sleep upstairs in a loft.

Nicholas would love that Christmas is still celebrated inside his cabin with children’s voices echoing through the years .

The boards on the rear wall are Nicholas’s. The owner cataloged each board, so he knows which sections are his grandfather’s and which are Nicholas’s.

The hearth and chimney stones were salvaged as well, although don’t recall if this hearth was either partly or totally from Nicholas’s cabin. I do know the current owner salvaged everything outside and inside, so if there were stones, they are here now.

Dolores sitting in the corner by the fireplace which is certainly the main focus of the room.

It’s dark inside the cabin, even when it’s bright outside. The photo of Dolores and the one above were taken just minutes apart.

The opposite corner. The doors to the right lead to a contemporary adjoined kitchen.

The cabin is actually very small.

This is a terribly out-of-focus photo, but it’s Lola-Margaret in a corner of Nicholas’s cabin just the same and smiling like crazy.

Not only did this wonderful man salvage Nicholas’s cabin, barely saving it in the nick of time, he also saved Nicholas’s stepping stone from the front door into the cabin. He told me he just couldn’t leave it behind, abandoned.

He put the front step stone in his garden, until I visited when he asked me if I wanted the stone.

DO I WANT THE STONE????

Are you kidding me?

The stone several of my ancestors trod, and some every single day of their lives?

Of course I want the stone!!!

We hoisted the stone into the back of my Jeep with much effort. That one rock made that entire trip worthwhile.

The stone today that Nicholas’s descendants continue to utilize on a daily basis.

Outside my door. Eight generations and counting!

I was also gifted with these metal fireplace frames that came out of the cabin, but weren’t original to Nicholas’s time.

I’m not sure what to do with these, so if anyone has any ideas, I’m all ears.

The Barn

Nicholas clearly farmed in addition to preaching. Many preachers, especially of small churches were never paid. In the 1840 census, Nicholas still had 3 people participating in agriculture. He had 3 males plus himself. Two were older males. The identity of the second man aged between 60-69 is a mystery, but Nicholas and the two younger males were probably the ones engaged in farming.

An old barn remaining on what was the original property, near the church, retains the notches of yesteryear.

Did Nicholas hew these boards and strip the bark with an adze? They are clearly not milled, as you can see the individual adze marks.

This could well have been the barn that accompanied Nicholas’s cabin. In many of the earliest mountain homes, the barn was larger than the house. That was true on the farm I grew up on more than a hundred years later.

As we’ll see in a minute that Nicholas had lots of livestock.

The 1850 Agricultural Census

I expected with a small cabin, a large family and being a minister that the family struggled. In 1850, Nicholas is shown on the regular census as age 68, Sarah age 64, two unmarried daughters and a laborer living with them. At that age, Nicholas surely needed help with the farm.

I thought they would have probably been poor, and that everyone in that geography was probably equally as poor. However, Nicholas listed the value of his real estate as $4000, substantially more than many of his neighbors.

Looking at the 1850 agricultural census for Lee County, VA shows something surprising. Compared to other families, Nicholas was doing quite well, by comparison to his neighbors.

What can we take away from this? Nicholas had a lot of livestock, which probably explains the large barn, or maybe he even built more than one barn. Perhaps his children and their families were helping him farm. That’s likely, because James, John and Joseph Speaks were all neighbors and none of them owned property. They were probably all living in cabins on Nicholas’s land and the family shared the farm’s produce.

One thing seems to be assured – no one was going hungry.

Somebody was weaving and churning butter. I’d guessing that would have been the two unmarried daughters who were 23 and 25. In a farm economy, everyone worked from as soon as they were big enough until they died or became disabled.

Nicholas’s Will

According to Sarah, Nicholas died on June 2, 1852. He apparently knew he was gravely ill, because he wrote his will on April 22^nd, and the will was subsequently probated on June 21, 1852. Men during that time didn’t write their will until it seemed a foregone conclusion that they were going to need one – and soon. That’s why there are so many intestate deaths.

Given the date the will was executed provides us some hint as to how long Nicholas was ill before he died. By late April, the handwriting was on the wall, so to speak, and 6 weeks later, Nicholas was gone.

I can’t help but wonder, given that he was a minister, if Nicholas was looking forward to passing over to what he perceived was his just reward. He would joyfully reunite with the people who had gone on before and wait for the people who would follow. Death might not have been frightening at all – at least not to Nicholas. But Sarah, who probably sat by his side as be became gravely ill, then held his hand as he passed over, was probably devastated, lonely and wondered how she was ever going to manage that farm alone, with only two daughters left at home to help. As Lola-Margaret says when she “channels” Sarah – she was surely grateful for her grown sons who lived close by.

I, Nicholas Speak a citizen of Lee County, in the State of Virginia being of sound mind and memory, do make, ordain, and publish this, as, and for my last will and testament hereby all former wills by me made.

Firstly, I give and bequeath to my beloved wife, Sarah Speak all my estate, both real and personal, during her natural life, if she during that period remain a widow, but if she marry then it is my will that my said wife be endowed of my estate as though I had made no will.

Secondly, it is my will that, at the death of my said wife Sarah Speak, one hundred fifty acres of land be laid off so as to include the mansion house, outbuildings and spring of the tract on which I now reside for my daughters Fanny Speak and Rebecca Speak and give and bequeath the said one hundred fifty acres of land to my said daughters Fanny and Rebecca and to their heirs forever a moiety to each.

Thirdly, at the termination of the estate of my wife Sarah in my land as herein before provided I give and bequeath to each of my sons Samuel Speak, John Speak and James A. Speak and to their several heirs one hundred fifty acres not herein before disposed of, to Jesse C. Speak (my son) I give and bequeath ninety three acres of my land to him and his heirs forever.

It is my will that, if my before mentioned sons Samuel, John, James A. and Jesse cannot agree upon lines of division between them as regards the lands I have herein bequeathed to them then I desire the Court of Lee County to appoint three Commissioners to lay off the said lands in lots as nearly equal in value as may be, quality and quantity being considered and then for my sons to decide the ownership of the several tracts by lots.

The condition upon which I give and bequeath the herein before mentioned lands to my sons Samuel Speak, Johns Speak, James A. Speak and Jesse C. Speak and their several heirs, is that my sons pay jointly and in proportion of the value of their respective lots of lands the sum of seven hundred and fifty dollars as follows, to wit, one hundred fifty dollars to Sarah Bartlet, the like sum of one hundred fifty dollars to my daughter Jane Ball, and the like sum of one hundred fifty dollars to the six children of my deceased son Charles Speak to be equally divided between them the said children, the like sum of one hundred fifty dollars to the eight children of my decd son Joseph to be equally divided between them, and the remaining one hundred fifty dollars to the five children of my decd son Thomas, to be equally divided between them the said children and I direct that the herein before mentioned payments of money to be made by my said sons Samuel, John, James A. and Jesse C. shall be made at the expiration of one year after the death of my wife Sarah Speak to such of the children herein indicated as shall then be of the age of twenty one years or more and then to all the other children as they respectively arrive at the age of twenty one years.

I also give and bequeath to each of my daughters Fanny and Rebecca a horse worth sixty dollars to be delivered to them at the death of my wife Sarah Speak. It is my will that the remaining portion of my estate not otherwise disposed of by my wife at her death, be equally distributed among my heirs at law.

I hereby constitute and appoint my son John Speak Executor of this my last will and testament of which I have hereunto set my hand and seal this 22nd day of April in the year 1852.

Nicholas Speak (SEAL)

The foregoing instrument of writing was signed and acknowledged _in our presence by Nicholas Speak and declared by him as his last will and Testament, and we have subscribed our names thereto at his request as witnesses. Emuel Stafford, John M. Crockett

Nicholas seems to have forgotten about a land warrant, because he added a codicil on My 25th.

Whereas I, Nicholas Speak of the County of Lee and State of Virginia have made my last will and testament in writing bearing the date 22nd day of April eighteen hundred fifty two and have hereby made a disposition of all my land and personal property as will be seen by Reference thereto except my land warrant, which land warrant, now I do by this my writing which I declare to be codicil to my said will to be part thereof will and direct that said land warrant be given to the heirs of Joseph Speak they be eight in number four neffues and four nieces with all its appurtenances as theirs to have and to hold forever and lastly it is my desire that this my present codicil be annexed to and made a part of my last will and testament to all intents and purposes in witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and seal this the 25th day of May in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred fifty two.

Nicholas Speak (SEAL)

The above instrument of one sheet was at the date thereof …to us by the testator Nicholas Speak to be a codicil to be annexed to his last will and testament and he achnowledged to each of us that he had subscribed the same and we at his request sign our names hereto as witnesses

Emuel Stafford (SEAL)

Samuel Speak (SEAL)Virginia

At a court of quarter sessions begun and held for Lee County at the Courthouse on Monday the 21st day of June 1852.

The last will and testament of Nicholas Speak deed was proved by the oaths of Emanuel Stafford and John M. Crockett witnesses thereto…and the codicil to the last will was proved by Emanuel Stafford and Samuel Speak and on motion of John Speak Executor therein named together with Cavender N. Robinson, William Collin and William S. Ely his security entered into bond in the penalty of $1000….

Then:

Will Book No. 2, Page 209 – Sale Bill of property sold by Robert M. Bales Committee for Sarah Speaks on the 12th day of February 1859.

Admitted to record Monday 20th June 1859 – H.J. Morgan CC

From time to time property of Sarah Speak was sold by Robert M. Bales, Committee.

Sarah Faires Speaks died February 20, 1865.

April 1, 1865 – We the undersigned after being duly sworn have appraised or valued the following articles or species of property belonging to the Estate of Sarah Speak deceased (to wit) Stephen X. Bales Vincent Bales Appraisers Jos. A. Hardy

Admitted to record 28th March 1866

Dolores Ham tells us:

In Sept. 1866, John Speak filed suit for the sale of lands of Nicholas Speak and a division of proceeds or if that cannot be done, then a division of lands. The land was ultimately divided. Many descendants are mentioned in this document, including several who lived out of state.

Children of Sarah Faires and Nicholas Speak

It’s likely that Nicholas and Sarah had one child that that did not survive. They were married in August 1804, and their first child was born in November 1805. Children arrived every 18 months to two years, except for a 3 year span between Samuel and John, both born during the month of January in 1809 and 1812, respectively. A child likely arrived and died about mid-1810. Given the high infant mortality rate at that time, Nicholas and Sarah probably felt God was watching over them and considered themselves lucky to have lost “only one.”

• Charles Speak, b. November 19, 1805 in Washington County, VA, married 27 Feb. 1823 to Ann McKee in Washington County, Va., died in Lee County, VA between 1840 and 1850.
• Sarah Jane Speak, b. May 23, 1807 in Washington County, VA. married 1829 in Lee County, VA to James Bartley and died in 1859.
• Samuel Patton Speak, b. January 29, 1809 in Washington Co. VA; married in Lee County, VA about 1827 to Sarah Hardy. He died March 20, 1861.
• John Speak, b January 2, 1812 in Washington County, VA; m. Mary Dean and second to Susannah Callahan in 1870. He died after that but before February 27, 1896.
• Joseph Speak, b. July 20, 1813 in Washington County, VA, died after the 1850 census and before his father wrote his will in April 1852. He was married to Leah Carnes in 1832 by his father.
• Thomas Speak, b. November 26, 1815 in Washington County, VA, died possibly in 1843, but assuredly before his father wrote his will in April 1852, married Mary “Polly” possibly Ball.
• Jane V. Speak, b. February 12. 1818 in Washington County, VA; m. January 15. 1855 to George W. Ball, II and died in 1878.
• Jesse C. Speak, b. 3 July 1820 in Washington County, VA; m. in 1842 to Mary Haynes and died on July 26, 1878 in Laurel Co. KY.
• James Allen Speak, b. June 15. 1822 in Washington County, VA; d. 9 January 1894 in Lee County, VA. m. about 1844 to Mary Jane Kelly.
• Fanny J. Speak, b. June 25, 1824 in Lee County, VA, d. May 11, 1906.  Married 2 Nov. 1859 to William Henderson Rosenbaum, as his second wife. Fanny’s sister, Rebecca was his first wife. Rosenbaum died September 26 1864 at Camp Douglas, IL as a prisoner during the Civil War.
• Rebecca Speak, b. July 12, 1826 in Lee County, VA, d. February 9, 1859, m.  February 9, 1854 William Henderson Rosenbaum as his first wife.

The Cemetery

Across the road from the Speaks Methodist Church is the family cemetery. Based on Nicholas’s will, there were probably at least three sons buried there before he joined them.

In fact, you can see the cemetery as you look out the door of the church. Did Nicholas think about his departed children as he preached?

Assuredly, Nicholas had preached their funerals and probably laid them to rest as well as several unknown grandchildren.

Did Nicholas think about this every time he saw the cemetery, or did the cemetery provide him comfort to feel that in some way, they were still close?

The view of the church from the cemetery. This little white church in the wildwood, at the base of the mountain feels so soul-soothing to me. They ghosts of my ancestors embrace their descendants who visit.

Nicholas and Sarah are assuredly buried here, but their graves, along with many others are unmarked or marked only with now-anonymous field stones. Of course, during the lifetimes of his children and grandchildren, no one needed to mark the location of graves. Everyone simply knew, but that knowledge was lost over time.

Several years ago, the Speaks Family Association purchased a memorial stone and placed it in the cemetery.

The back lists their children.

The stone is clearly close to Nicholas and Sarah and many of their children, grandchildren and descendants. The cemetery is small, on a hill overlooking the church.

Perhaps Nicholas has listened to the sermons every Sunday for the past 167 years – over 8500 messages delivered to the faithful in the church left for posterity by Nicholas.

Have subsequent ministers felt his gentle hand and unknown influence?

Does Nicholas rest under one of these stones? Does his son, Charles, my ancestor, along with his wife, Ann McKee? Surely so.

They are here.

It’s difficult for me to walk away from these places so loaded with the history and bones of my ancestors. They draw me back, again and again.

I always have to take one last painful look backward as I leave, sometimes knowing I’ll never return.

This land is infused with their DNA, and mine.

Nicholas’s DNA

The Speaks Family Association funded several DNA tests for known Speaks direct male linear descendants several years ago. Men inherit the Y chromosome from their fathers intact, so the Y chromosome  would be passed from Nicholas to his sons, and them to their sons, to Speaks males today – intact. The goal was to confirm a connection to the Lancashire “Gisburn” Speaks line, which was successfully achieved.

The good news is that the Speaks Y DNA is rather rare, meaning that 8 out of 11 matches at 111 markers are to other Speaks men, some of which are from the Twiston and Gisburn area of Lancashire. There’s no question that the US Speaks line descends from a common ancestor with those gentlemen.

Unfortunately, many early records are missing and the best we can offer today are approximations as to when that common ancestor lived. We know for sure that it was before 1633 when our immigrant ancestor. Thomas Speake was born, and probably before 1600, but beyond that, we can’t say. In fact, trying to solve this mystery is why we engaged in DNA testing. Some questions have been answered, but not all.

From the Speaks DNA Project, open to all descendants, Nicholas’s branch is haplogroup I-BY14004, which is separated slightly from the Twiston group whose haplogroup is I-BY14009.

The Y DNA block tree shows these two brother branches side by side.

The potential intersection of these two branches could be as long ago as 800 years, which would put the common ancestor in the 1200s. Once the private variants are resolved and potentially placed upstream in the tree, the SNP generations could be reduced by 300 or 400 years, so the 1500s or 1600s which would place the common ancestor not long before the records end.

We do know that the surname exists before the records begin in the churches in the area, so the year 1200, give or take, might not be as far-fetched as we might think. On the other hand, if the average SNP generation is 80 years instead of 100, then we’re dealing with 640 years which is approximately the year 1360. Of course, we’re dealing with averages, and who is exactly average?

Other matching surnames on the Big Y test are Carey, Hutchinson, Holmes, Hudson and Ashby, but these men are not STR matches which means that they are more distantly related than the Speaks men are to each other, but still within about 1500 years.

Moving up the haplotree, the first SNP that shows a cluster is I-BY1183, confirming the rarity of the Speak Y DNA.

The two locations where clusters are found are dead center in England and in Germany as well, which could indicate that the testers knew the country where their ancestor was found, but not the more specific location.

This SNP looks to be about 3500 years old, roughly, and since it’s also found in Germany, one of our ancestors might have migrated from this region, or both groups of men could have migrated from another common region.

One branch further up the tree, meaning further back in time, S2606, between 4000 and 4500 years of age, shows a scattering across Europe as well as the Lancashire region of England, meaning of course that’s where the ancestors of those testers are found. This causes me to wonder how men carrying those SNPs managed to arrive in Lancashire, and no place else in England. Haven’t enough men yet tested, or is there a story there waiting to be discovered?

Did our line develop additional mutations, while their line didn’t? Or have they simply not tested as deeply as our line has?

It’s important to note that while these clusters show the location of the most distant ancestors of people who carry this terminal SNP, those ancestral lines may not have always lived there.

We know that haplogroup I migrated from the Near East into Europe at some point after the last ice age which occurred about 12,000 years ago and that by about 5,000 years ago, the parent haplogroup of our ancestors was found in El Mirador, Spain, having been discovered in an archaeological dig.

Did Nicholas’s ancestor migrate to Europe via the Mediterranean or through the Caucasus? We don’t know yet, but hopefully with the increasing number of people testing and ancient DNA remains being sequenced, more will be revealed in the next few months and years.

Further complicating analysis, the Y chromosome of ancient DNA is not analyzed to the level that we are able to analyze contemporary testers. Once the original academic analysis of ancient DNA is complete, it’s seldom updated as technology improves.

Nicholas’s Autosomal DNA

The Y DNA of Nicholas applies directly to all Speaks surname males. The historical information that the Y DNA conveys applies to all Speaks descendants, females and males who are related but don’t carry the Speak surname. Thankfully, autosomal DNA can be inherited by all descendants.

Family Tree DNA, MyHeritage and GedMatch all three provide segment information to testers that can be compared with other descendants to see which DNA segments carried by descendants today originated with Nicholas and Sarah. The Speaks DNA Project is at Family Tree DNA and welcomes everyone.

Using DNAPainter, I paint segments that descend from a couple, because unless you have the ability to match against the descendants of both sets of the couple’s parents, you can’t tell whether the segment came from Nicholas or Sarah.

I carry pieces of DNA from Nicholas or Sarah on chromosomes 4, 6 and 10. My favorite shared segment, though, is the large 18.2 cM, 4496 SNP segment that I share with cousin Lola-Margaret. That nice juicy large segment seals my special bond with Lola-Margaret.

There’s just something I love about looking at the pictures of Lola-Margaret and me, along with other cousins on our various adventures and knowing that our crazy sense of both adventure and humor might just have been inherited from Nicholas himself.

Lola-Margaret, me and cousin Susan standing in “Speaks Meadow,” the land of Bowling Speaks, Nicholas’s great-grandfather, in Charles County, Maryland a few years ago on a great adventure.

Lola-Margaret and me searching for our common love, rocks, on our ancestral land. You might just say we’re the same kind of crazy

There’s just nothing like roaming ancestral lands, making discoveries and celebrating ancestors with a DNA-sharing, adventure-loving bonded cousin! Without Nicholas, I would never have found Lola-Margaret, Dolores, Susan, and my other very special cousins. I wonder if Nicholas is watching, laughing and chuckling, or maybe being horrified at our escapades.

Regardless, I am eternally grateful for them, all because of him!

April 29th marks the 13^th anniversary of Mom’s “passing over.” Of course I think about this, because I can’t NOT think about it.

Part of the grief is still fresh, especially when I’m somehow caught by surprise, but many rough edges have been softened into cherished memories by time.

Mom’s lovely secretary, one of my favorite things, sits in my living room now. I am the steward.

Mom always referred to it as “Mother’s Secretary,” which is, not surprisingly, what I call it too. But now, it’s mine and someday maybe someone else in the family will eventually call it “Mother’s Secretary.”

A secretary is a type of desk with a drop-down front that is used as the writing surface. Mom’s had some secret cubbyholes inside after you lowered the front, and a couple of shelves below as well.

After Mom passed, I installed a few of her Avon award statues. She was extremely proud of her accomplishments, as was I, especially as a 3^rd career that stretched well into her 80s. I know she would approve.

Books!

The lower shelves, at home, always held vintage books. Margaret Mitchell’s classic, “Gone with the Wind,” one of my all-time favorites always lived there as did Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poetry which I don’t think I’ve read even yet today.

The book of poetry was bound in soft painted leather and was simply beautiful to behold – it didn’t matter what was inside.

Books were an expensive luxury, so sometimes we bought discarded books from the classroom “library” at Lincoln School.

Most of those were sold at Mom’s estate auction or rummage sale years ago, but the rattiest, which means my favorites, didn’t sell. They still have the price tags on the front.

Other books on the shelf included several Bobbsey Twin books – some that had been Mother’s and a few newer ones, now 50+ years old, that were mine. Only two remain. I should give them to my granddaughters. I sure loved the Bobbsey twins and read those books several times each.

I devoured Gone with the Wind so many times that the book began to fall apart.  Later, seeing the movie in color with Clark Gable and Vivian Leigh was a treat to die for. I loved the movie as much as the book, if that was possible. I learned so much about romance, handsome men and strong women! I also internalized lessons about slavery, freedom and alcoholism along with right and wrong. I’m not at all sure Mom meant for me to absorb ANY of those lessons with the veracity that I did.

A Sacred Space

In my childhood home, the secretary always stood in the living room, nestled in a corner beside the fireplace. For years I felt very grown-up having the privilege of sitting there doing my homework. I actually enjoyed homework, which was much better done at the special secretary instead of at the much-too-sterile Formica kitchen table.

Besides, the kitchen was busy, the living room wasn’t.

One day when I was about 10, I was absolutely horrified to discover that I had pressed so hard that my writing had gone through the paper and had marred the finish inside the desk. I never felt right again about doing homework at Mom’s secretary.

However, I would occasionally sit there to write “special” things. I seemed to connect with inspiration in that sheltered space.

I began reclusively writing poetry. Mom’s secretary seemed so embracing and safe, with its secret-compartment-like essence. Some of my poems were bright and sunny, but most reflected the darkness of grief, loss and heartache. The loss a child feels when they lose too many loved ones too quickly and are left lonely and alone.

As time moved on, so did the secretary. Mom remarried and moved to my step-father’s farm, taking the secretary along of course.

There too it always had its own reassuring secure place. Mom always kept certain items there, and today, in my home, it still has the same things in the same locations. I wonder if it was the same when it belonged to my grandmother. I’d bet so.

It always made me feel good to see the secretary although I didn’t really think about it at the time. I don’t recall that the thought ever occurred to me that someday it might be mine. The secretary was just always a warm friend greeting me as I walked into the living room, sometimes on an errand to retrieve something for mother.

Twenty-plus years later, after my step-father passed away, Mom moved to an apartment in town. The secretary, which had long before reached the antique stage, looked strangely out of place in the white-washed walls of mother’s new city apartment. By this time, the secretary, along with a table and mother’s bedroom furniture, were the only antiques among the upholstered chairs and carpet.

The secretary may have looked out of place, but as a silent sentinel, it was still welcoming and reassuring. Mom still used it as a desk as well as storage for its familiar stamps, envelopes and paper, along with her crossword puzzle books, a deck of cards, pens and pencils and some dice from the Yahtzee game so we could find them.

It was always beautiful with its carved and raised front. I remember tracing those beautiful wooden swirls so many times with my finger.

From there, Mom moved to another apartment near where my brother lived for the last nine months of her life. It was in this apartment that I first realized that my brother, sister-in-law and I would have to figure out what to do with mother’s things eventually.

While there wasn’t much of a physical nature that I wanted, I did want the secretary which had been such a quiet part of my life for so many years – nearly half a century.

By then I could open the desk and look at the homework marks and smile. Mom never mentioned them to me, but she couldn’t have missed them. Maybe she knew how badly I felt.

A New Home

After Mom’s passing, I brought the secretary home in a rented truck on one very sad Mother’s Day and installed it in the dining room in a little nook that seems to be made just for Mom’s secretary. For the longest time, I’d glance in that direction and be a little startled while reflexively thinking to myself “what’s Mom’s secretary doing here”?

Slowly, the startle went away, and now it’s just a warm presence in the corner, near me as I iron and quilt and sew. Keeping me company, surrounding me with something of Mom’s essence. My old friend, beckoning, saying hello, reminding me of happy times that Mom and I spent together across so many years and miles.

Sometimes I walk by and caress Mom’s secretary, smiling a little sadly and remembering. I open it from time to time and take out things that were hers, Avon notes and receipts in her increasingly shaky handwriting that mean absolutely nothing, but I can’t bring myself to throw away.

Mom’s Bibles, the one her mother gave her for Christmas in 1951, now much worn.

The one we got her when my kids were young when she asked for a new Bible for Christmas, and the one my father gave her. Her old one is my favorite, by far, with her handwriting throughout her life, holding obituaries and birth announcements inside the cover.

I imagine what Mom was thinking as she inscribed those important family dates; births, marriages and deaths. I can close my eyes and see her at the secretary, writing. It’s almost as if I could just reach out…

I think of her. I touch her things and smile, sometimes through tears as the ghostly memories transport me back to her.

The trinkets of her life still live in the little cubbies. I’ve added a few items of my own, like boxes of cards that I send with care quilts as they leave for their lives with their new owners. It’s kind of like Mom is with me a bit as I open the secretary to write an uplifting note. That only seems right, given that I make the quilts sitting at the table beside the secretary.

The 13^th Anniversary

This year’s anniversary of Mom’s passing is a bit different. As fate would have it, I’ll be leaving the day before to speak about DNA at the NGS conference in St. Charles, Missouri and passing not terribly far from her grave. “Not far,” as in marked by hours.

Mom isn’t buried “near” to anyplace I travel with any regularity. I think I’ve only been to her grave 2 or 3 times, but this year, I’ll be visiting to say hello, on the same day I said goodbye 13 years ago. How’s that for irony.

I’ll chat with Mom, saying whatever comes to mind, as if she can hear me.

Perhaps I’ll sit on a quilt in the grass by her stone and tell her where I’m headed and what I’m doing. She encouraged me to “tell people’s stories” revealed by their DNA. She would be very surprised not only that I’ve done exactly that, but how the fledgling genetics industry she knew has prospered and grown. If she was still with me, I’d have her DNA in the newer databases too.

The Gift

Mom gifted me a few days ago, in a very odd way, reminding me of her presence. I felt her near.

I was dusting the secretary, something I’ve done hundreds of times now. Mom collected toothpick holders. At the auction, a few either didn’t sell or perhaps she held them out because she particularly liked them. I remember her crying as the entire box sold for an obscenely low price, but by then, it was too late. I so desperately wish I had bought them.

In any case, as I moved a toothpick with a metal lid, I heard a faint “clink.” As I put the toothpick back on the secretary, I heard it again. Odd, I had NEVER heard that before.

I picked the toothpick up and opened the lid to discover my Mom’s cross that I had given her many years before. I wondered after she passed away what happened to the cross, but I presumed that another family member was cherishing the cross and never thought more about it.

Imagine my surprise. I couldn’t help but wonder why Mom put it in a toothpick holder, of all places.

The last few months of her life, mother was having multiple small undiagnosed strokes, which makes me wonder if she took the cross off for some reason, putting it in the little toothpick holder which probably was sitting near her chair, for safekeeping. Perhaps she forgot where she put it, and it’s clearly not someplace one would randomly stumble across looking for a piece of jewelry.

Odder still, there was no chain, just the cross. It had a chain when I gave it to her.

I cried when I realized that somehow, Mom had managed to gift me with her cross so many years later. A gift that had been waiting for me all that time – in her secretary.

Now I’m even more grateful to be the steward of her secretary, my silent forever friend – spanning 5 decades of our lives together across two states. The secretary has been in our family for parts of two or three centuries and at least three generations, if not more. I don’t know how, when or where my grandmother acquired it.

I still miss Mom. Perhaps more than ever as the years slowly increase, marking the cavernous time from the last time I heard her voice and held her hand. I remember both events clearly. I was driving home, talking to her, the evening before her “big stroke” and had to stop to remove a family of geese from the road. She was laughing at me, admonishing me to be careful. Just days later, I held her hand as she died.

Even her last message on my phone, which I replayed for years, disappeared one day.

Wearing Mom’s cross eases the pain of her passing a bit, that bottomless hole that will never even begin to fill, for a few minutes anyway, until it doesn’t anymore.

See you Tuesday, Mom.

My introduction to the Ferverda genealogy came in the form of a small blue booklet that my mother obtained at a family reunion. How I desperately wish I had attended that reunion, but I was preoccupied in the summer of 1978 with 2 small children – one that was a newborn.

With a beastly hot summer, a new baby and no air conditioning – my greatest wish was for sleep – not meeting new people and certainly not this thing called genealogy

The Blue Ferverda Booklet

In 1978, one of the Ferverda family members authored a small blue-covered book after visiting the Netherlands in 1977. I’m extremely grateful, because most of the photos and a lot of the original information about the Ferverda family came from their booklet. However, no place are the authors identified, so I don’t know who to thank.

From the Ferverda book:

Hiram and Eva were married March 10, 1876 by Rev. Bigler of Goshen Indiana. Their early married life was spent on farms near New Paris and Milford where all of their children were born except George, Donald and Margaret. They were born in Kosciusko County, Plain Twp.

In 1894 they bought a 160 acre farm 3 miles east of Leesburg, Indiana and lived there until the spring of 1908 when they moved into town. Hiram supervised the laying the brick streets in Leesburg. He became a director of People’s State Bank in 1908 and later became Vice President. Donald Ferverda was a director and cashier. In later years, Ray Ferverda became a director and Vice President of Peoples State Bank.

Ira was a rancher and later had a chicken hatchery. They lived in Wyoming for a time, then moved to Leesburg. He served in the Spanish American War.

Edith’s husband Tom (Dye) farmed and later worked with this son-in-law who was an undertaker and had a furniture store. They made their home in the Leesburg area.

Irvin was a farmer with a love for horses. He farmed in the Oswego community and moved to the home place after his parents moved into town.

John was in the hardware business and later became an auto salesman. He lived in Silver Lake all his married life.

Gertrude’s husband Lewis (Hartman) was a farmer and an experienced butcher. They lived on a rented farm until they bought 80 acres south of Oswego. Their last years were spent in Leesburg.

Chloe’s husband Rollie (Roland Robinson) was in the hardware and plumbing and heating business which he took over from his father. They lived in Leesburg.

Ray was a farmer who entered politics. He was a township trustee and then a county commissioner. They owned a farm in Van Buren Twp. near the New Salem Church.

Roscoe was a railroad man, station agent at Silver Lake where he lived. He had a love for baseball. He served in WWI.

Donald was cashier at the Leesburg bank. His future looked bright, but death took him when he was a young man. They owned a home in Leesburg. He was the third member of the family to serve in WWI.

Margaret’s husband Chet (Glant) was a railroad man for 37 years and they made their home in Warsaw, Indiana.

Hiram and Eva were faithful members of the New Salem Church of the Brethren, Milford, Indiana.

The blue Ferverda booklet was written by people who probably knew Hiram, and assuredly knew his children. The photos in the book refer to Hiram and Eva as their grandparents. Thankfully they recorded what they knew.

Hiram Immigrates from The Netherlands

In our first article, Hiram Bauke Ferverda (1854-1925), Part 1: The Baker’s Apprentice – 52 Ancestors #222, we met Hiram in the Netherlands.

We left Hiram Bauke Ferverda, as he was called in the US, setting sail as Harmen Bauke Ferwerda in 1868 at the age of 14. He had been apprenticed to a baker, his mother’s sister’s husband, Johannes Jousma in the tiny village of “Fiifhus” translated at 5 Houses.

Yes, there were literally 5 houses in this little picturesque village on a canal.

Hiram returned from his apprenticeship in time to sail for America in August of 1868 with his father, Bauke Hendrick Ferverda, step-mother Minke, younger brother Hendrick Ferwerda, known as Henry Ferverda in the US, age 10, half-sisters Lysbeth age 4 and Geertje, apparently named after Hiram’s deceased mother, age 15 months. What a lovely gesture by Bauke’s second wife.

From the “History of Kosciusko County”

The second piece of published information that I found about Hiram came from the History of Kosciusko County, published in 1919.

Hiram B. Ferverda has been a resident of Kosciusko County a quarter of a century, grew up in Indiana from early boyhood and had many hardships and difficulties to contend with in his earlier days. Industry and a determined ambition have brought him an enviable station in life and among other interests he is now vice-president of the People’s Bank at Leesburg and owns some fine farming land in the county.

Mr. Ferverda was born in Holland, Sept. 21, 1854, son of Banks and Gertrude D. Young Ferverda. His parents were also natives of Holland, married there, and the mother died in Holland leaving two sons, Henry and Hiram B. The father was a man of excellent education and very talented as a musician and in other pursuits.  He taught music. After the death of his first wife he again married and had two daughters by the second wife. He brought his family to the US and located in Union Township of Elkhart County, Indiana where he spent the rest of his life. He was a member of the Lutheran Church in Holland.

Hiram B. Ferverda was 13 years old when his father came to Elkhart County. He had begun his education in his native country and finished in the public schools of Elkhart County. The family were poor and he lived at home and gave most of his wages earned by farm work to the support of the family until he was nearly 21 years old.

Mr. Ferverda married Evaline Miller who was born in Elkhart Co., Indiana, March 29, 1857, daughter of John D. and Margaret Lentz Miller. Her parents were both natives of America and her maternal grandparents were born in Germany.

After their marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Ferverda moved to a farm 4 miles west of New Paris, Indiana and 2 years later, in 1893, came to Kosciusko County and established their home on a farm near Oswego. Mr. Ferverda bought 160 acres and developed a splendid farm. He yet owns the farm, but since March 1909 has lived in Leesburg.

Mr. and Mrs. Ferverda have 11 children. Ira O. is a graduate of the common schools and was a student in the North Manchester College and beginning with the Spanish-American war saw 3 years of active service in the American army as a quartermaster sergeant. He now lives at Oswego. Edith E. is a graduate of the common schools and is the wife of Thomas Dye of Plain Township. Irvin G. is a farmer in Plain Township. John W. is a high school graduate and is engaged in the hardware business at Silver Lake, Indiana. Gertrude E. is a graduate of high school and the wife of Rollin V. Robinson. Ray E. a graduate of high school is a farmer in Van Buren Township. Roscoe H. is a graduate of high school and is now serving as a train dispatcher with the Southern Pacific Railroad. George likewise completed his education in high school and is in the army. Donald who attended school 12 years and in all that time never missed a day nor was tardy now is in the US service at Jefferson Barracks, Missouri. Margaret is a high school student. The family are members of the Church of the Brethren and Mr. Ferverda is a republican. He was at one time captain of the local Horse Thief Detective Association, and in now an inspector of the streets of Leesburg.

What can we learn from this information?

First, not everything is accurate, including the spelling of Hiram’s father’s name. His mother’s name was “semi-translated” from Dutch to English. His parents names were Bauke Hendrick Ferwerda, known as Baker in the US, and Geertje Harmens de Jong. De Jong in Dutch means “younger” or “the younger.”

His brother, William, by his father’s second marriage was omitted which caused me to not search for him, for several years.

The years are “off” for Hiram’s early married life in Elkhart County.

I wish they had been more specific about the many hardships and difficulties Hiram had to contend with. It’s very interesting that he contributed his wages to the family from the time they arrived until he married.

I had no idea that Ira had attended Manchester College, an institution associated with the Brethren religion. Ironic that he attended that college and also served in the war. Brethren are opposed to warfare.

My grandfather John also attended the Normal School in Angola, Indiana, a college for teachers, and obtained his teaching certificate, but never taught.

The Horse Thief Detective Association was a local detective and law enforcement group of vigilantes formed about 1840. Many had an element of Masonic influence within the organization. During that time in Indiana, near Wingate, Indiana, horse stealing had become so rampant that folks had to completely give up the idea of farming. Arrests were nigh on nonexistant, so the men banded together to not only discover who was stealing the horses, but to apprehend them and put an end to it. They did, becoming relatively well respected, and also becoming investigators, police officers, judge, jury and executioner all in one – sometimes all in the same night or raid. Later in the early 1900s, they became heavily associated with the KKK. Some say they were infiltrated by the KKK, hastening their decline. In the early 1920s, this group met its demise with the downfall of one of their leaders who was convicted of the murder of a woman. They primarily operated throughout Indiana, but also to some extent in surrounding states.

In essence the Horse Thief Detective Association was a volunteer police force with state laws giving the group arrest powers. The HDTA could chase thieves across county and state lines where the local Sheriff and Marshall could not. The HDTA was organized into groups of about 50 men each and there were typically several groups in each county.

The mention of the KKK chills me to the bone. Hopefully that’s when Hiram left that organization. Written in 1919, this article says he had “at one time” been the local Captain, not that he currently was.

Note that the description of 4 miles west of New Paris doesn’t fit the location of either Eva’s nor Hiram’s parents land. Four miles would locate the couple about 1 mile into Union Township, directly west of New Paris.

The best we can say is that it was in this general location, probably someplace between their parents.

This had to be where they lived before they purchased land in 1890, because we know where the farm they bought was located.

Let’s walk Hiram through his life, with the assistance of newspapers. I found a huge treasure trove through my subscription at MyHeritage.

Bauke Purchases Land

There’s nothing between 1868 and 1870 aside from the fact that Bauke, Hiram’s father, bought land on December 7, 1868, in Union Township, Elkhart County, from the de Boer family, almost immediately upon arrival.

That farm would stay in the family until the present day. You can read about the farm here.

1870

The first census was taken about 18 months after Hiram’s arrival. Neither of the 2 boys, Hiram nor Henry, were living with their father and step-mother. Hiram was living a nearby, working on the farm, but brother Henry was missing from the census.

I checked several spellings of both first and last names of Harmen, Hiram, Ferwerda, Ferverda and Fervida, and the only one I found in 1870 was for our Hiram who was living a couple houses away from his father and step-mother, with the Simeon Smith family.

Click to view a larger image.

In 1870, the Ferverda family was living in Union Township, not far from New Paris, Indiana by the Postma’s and the Krulls, other families from the Netherlands. They were also neighbors with Ephriam Miller, and the Miller family was Brethren.

The Ferverda family was Brethren here in the states, with Hiram eventually marrying Eva Miller who was also Brethren. Eva would have been 13 in 1870 and might have thought Hiram was mighty cute! They probably saw each other at church and farm functions.

Where was Hiram’s brother, Henry? Why was neither boy living with Bauke and the rest of the family?

Henry was 3 years younger than Hiram, so 11 when they arrived. And neither boy spoke English, at least not upon arrival.

Hiram (Harmen Bauke) Ferverda (Ferwerda) at left, Henry (Hendrik) Ferverda at right, assuming the Ferverda booklet is labeled correctly.

From the Ferverda book, this is the only known photo of Hiram and his brother Henry (Hendrick). I can’t believe how much alike they look.

Henry’s sad story can be read here.

1874

This 1874 plat map shows the land of Bauke Ferwerda in Union Township, Elkhart County.

Note the Miller influence across the road. Hiram’s eventual wife, Eva Miller, lived about three and a half miles up the road, current County Road 15.

Naturalization

By 1876, Hiram, now of age, applied to become a citizen.

According to Hiram’s Naturalization application found in Elkhart County, the family sailed for America on August 1, 1868 and arrived in September. Hiram applied for citizenship on October 4, 1876, age 21. His father applied on the 7^th of the same month.

Ironically, Hiram never completed his citizenship process until during WWI, as reported by the local newspaper.

A Confusing Record

Of course, this information begs the question of this next record. How many Harmen Ferwerdas can there be immigrating from the Netherlands in 1868 or 1869? Did the family arrive by train in Chicago and connect to Indiana from there? It seems that the train would have traveled right through northern Indiana on the way to Chicago, so that doesn’t exactly make sense either.

This record’s arrival location could simply be incorrect. We would need to see the original to know and it seems a rather moot point because we know where Hiram settled. This record did beg the question of whether he actually immigrated separately from the rest of his family, but the ship’s records, discovered by Yvette Hoitink in the Netherlands tell us otherwise.

Marriage

On March 7^th, 1876 Hiram Ferverda obtained a license to marry Evaline Miller in Elkhart, Indiana. Two days later, on March 19^th, they were married by Andrew Bigler, a minister of the gospel. The couple must have been busy happily preparing!

Andrew Bigler was an elder in the Brethren Church in the 1870s and 1880s in Elkhart County.

Based on the caption of the photo from the Ferverda booklet, it’s obvious that the author was the Hiram’s grandchild.

The early married life of Hiram Ferverda and Eva Miller Ferverda was spent on farms near New Paris and Milford where all of their children were born except George, Donald and Margaret who were born in Plain Township in Kosciusko County, according to the Ferverda booklet.

At least part of this is confirmed by the locations given in their various children’s marriage applications where Ray, born in 1891 and Chloe born in 1886 were listed as having been born in Milford, and Roscoe is listed as having been born in Leesburg in 1893.

Try as I might, I cannot find this family in the 1880 census. By this time, Hiram and Eva would have had two children, Ira Otto born on November 2, 1877 and Edith born on August 27, 1879.

The next hints we find are in the local newspaper.

In the News

I found several articles that shed light on Hiram’s life in the states. I love old newspaper articles. They flesh out so much about our ancestor’s lives and the times in which they lived.

I searched for Hiram’s name, then Fervida, Ferwerda and Ferverda beginning in 1860 at MyHeritage.

My ancestor, Hiram’s son, John, was born in 1884 but where, exactly? I suspect, based on the fact that his siblings born in 1886 and 1891 were born near Milford in Elkhart County, John was too. However, the family did move in 1885, so John could have been born “4 miles west of” New Paris, the first location given for Hiram’s home in Elkhart County. New Paris was very close to Eva Miller’s father – and all of the locations didn’t mean the actual village, but in that vicinity.

On March 5, 1885, the Indianian Republican reported that “Wash Miller is moving west of Goshen. He intends to take his family Thursday. Hiram Fervida gets the farm Mr. Miller is leaving.”

What does the verb “gets” mean in this context?

Wash Miller was George Washington Miller, Eva’s brother, Hiram’s brother-in-law.

A friend, Ann, did me a wonderful favor a few weeks ago and checked the deeds for Elkhart County. There was no Ferverda (or similar spelling) deed at that time, and none from a Miller at any time.

There is an old plat map of Elkhart County in 1874, but I wasn’t able to find a property owned by either George Miller, Wash Miller or G. W. Miller in 1874. I’m assuming that Hiram and Eva probably lived not far from Eva’s parents, John David Miller and Elizabeth Lentz, or may had even lived with them.

Wash Miller could have been renting or “share farming” and Hiram Ferverda was probably doing the same.

Their Own Farm

In 1890, Hiram Ferverda did purchase a farm in Elkhart County, recorded on page 317 of the deed book.

Based on the deed description, I was able to find this land, first on the old plat map, then today using Google maps.

Jackson Twp – Elkhart Co. – Elkhart Co 1874 Jackson Twp section 22 w half of SE qtr 80 ac

In 1890, John would have been 7 years old. He would have played the games that boys played on this farm.

The field to the north is probably much the same. The house on the plat map, near the red star, is gone today of course, and the land south and east of the house looks to be mined, possibly for sand.

John certainly wouldn’t recognize the property today. I wonder if a few hearty Daffodils still bloom in the springtime where the old homestead used to be. Daffodils and other perennials are a surefire hint for locating former houses. Women have always loved flowers it seems.

Three years later, in February 1893, Hiram sold this 80-acre farm and moved to Kosciusko County, the next county over.

Click to view a larger image.

Kosciusko County, Indiana

In March 1893, just a few days after selling their farm in Elkhart County, Hiram and Eva bought a 160-acre farm near Oswego, Indiana, doubling the size of their land.

March 9, 1893 – Indianian-Republican and Warsaw Times – Real estate transfers: William D. Wood to Hiram B. Ferverda 160 acres Section 11 Plain Twp, $8,000

John would turn 11 the day after Christmas that year.

This 1914 map of Plain Township shows the location of Hiram’s farm. Hiram’s son, Irvin was living there in 1914, but Hiram still owned the property.

You can see Hiram’s land in the upper right hand quadrant of section 11.

Google maps lets us look at the area today.

This explains why John Ferverda went to Oswego Schools.

Their farm included the area, above in red, shown in a closeup below.

The upper right hand corner is wet and swampy, and the lower right hand corner may have actually touched or included the edge of Lake Tippecanoe. The bottom third of the property is still wooded.

The Surveyor’s office in Kosciusko County was exceedingly helpful, providing me with this image of the 1938 flyover from their GIS system which shows the house at that time to be west of a newer house today.

The flyover image shows us where the original house stood, allowing me to find it on Google Maps today.

This looks to be the same house as in the flyover.

When I visited Kosciusko County in May of 2019, I thought perhaps this was a possibility, and took a photo, just in case. I’m so glad now that I did.

I love to find and walk my ancestor’s land.

The white barn to the rear is probably not original. I don’t see it in the aerial, but this is the view that Hiram would have seen, minus the irrigation equipment, of course.

This would have been Hiram’s view of his fields from the house.

This is Hiram’s land at the southwest corner of the intersection of 700N and 300E. Looking across his property, toward the houses today. Hiram’s house is the one furthest to the left.

The images above are from Google Maps Street View, but the ones below I took when I visited.

Standing on 300, looking west across Hiram’s land.

The rains had been torrential and the land everyplace was simply saturated. This view above is looking south across Hiram’s fields.

While this entrance provided access for the farmer to the field, it was a sure and certain mud quagmire for me, so I pulled to the side of the road, off as far as possible, and turned on my flashers.

You can see the back of Hiram’s old house in the distance, with the white barn to the rear.

There’s a pipeline of some sort on this land today. You can see part of it in front of the woods, and another part stood directly beside me as I took this picture, at the beginning of the planks.

A plank walkway had been constructed that headed towards the wetlands on the corner.

Is it safe to walk here? Am I trespassing, or is the walkway in the right-of-way or on an easement? I’m in the open, with my car and flashers, so I’ve decided to “ask forgiveness” if I need to. I grew up on a farm and most farmers are quite reasonable, especially if you explain why you are there.

At the end of the plank walkway, several old trees had been bulldozed into a pile. I wonder if any of these trees lived when Hiram owned this land. From the aerial, it looks more wooded today than then.

Hiram’s rocks. How I would have loved to take those home, but they are MUCH too big. I did find a couple smaller hand-sized rocks near the road to take and leave at his son John’s gravestone, as well as my mother’s the following day.

A tiny creek runs beneath the foliage and muck.

This corner land is very boggy.

But it surely is beautiful. I think that’s Skunk Cabbage which earned its name.

Rounding the corner onto 700, you can see the wet area from the other side.

You can hear the creek gurgling through the underbrush.

It was hard to tear myself away from the peacefulness here, especially knowing it has changed little since Hiram walked these lands himself.

However, the sky was darkening again, even though it was the middle of the afternoon, and that’s AFTER lightening this photo, taken from the wetlands looking east on 700. The new house sits on the hill on the left, and Hiram’s home would be beyond this maybe a quarter mile. This was one of the gravel roads when Hiram maintained it.

Uh oh, I’m sinking. Time to leave. The rains are beginning again.

Hiram’s land looking southwest. I had to take one last look. Goodbyes are difficult.

Hiram’s land appeared to continue south into the trees, about 30% of the depth of his property, into this forest. I wonder if it wasn’t cleared because it was simply too wet.

Looking back across the land, I see Hiram’s old house in the center that rang with the laughter of children for 15 years. I wonder if Hiram built this house or if it existed before he purchased the farm.

As I drive on south on 300, passing the corner of Hiram’s property closest to the lake, the streams feeding Lake Tippecanoe from Hiram’s and other properties are flooded.

Was this old tree here when Hiram lived, and when John assuredly played in these waters on his way to school perhaps? What stories it could tell!

The Lawsuit

Not long after Hiram purchased his farm, he was involved in a lawsuit, apparently having to do with the property he purchased. The print is difficult to read.

Sept. 28, 1893 – Indianian-Republican

Life on the Farm

By the time that Hiram and Eva bought the farm in Plain Township near Oswego, they had 7 children with number 8 arriving on March 30, 1893, just days after they purchased the new farm. In fact, Roscoe may not have been born on the new farm, depending on when they actually took possession and if a house was already built. According to the blue Ferverda book, Roscoe was born in Elkhart County, but according to his own documents, he was born in Leesburg. It’s certainly possible that Eva, 9 months pregnant had no desire to move to the new farm 3 weeks before delivering her 8^th child.

On April 1, 1893, Hiram’s sister, Melvinda would marry James Gibson. However, this might have been a bit of a scandal, since their first child would be born on November 7^th, the same year.

Given that Eva had just given birth, it’s not likely that the family attended Melvinda’s wedding. Brethren weddings tended to occur in the home by the minister, with no celebration. Simplicity was a way of life.

The Oswego School

Hiram and Eva’s children attended the old school in Oswego. In April 2019, I visited the Kosciusko County, Indiana courthouse where the surveyor graciously provided me with a photo of the old schoolhouse.

The schoolhouse is shown standing near the top of the photo – the tallest building in town at that time – and it would be now as well.

My grandfather, John Ferverda, pictured in this photo, graduated from the Oswego school. In 1900, a class photo was taken that included 4 Ferverda children and later published in a yearbook. He probably graduated that year or a year later.

The building is long gone, replaced by a church today.

However, the surveyor was kind enough to show me on a contemporary map where the old building stood so I could visit.

I pulled into the parking lot of the church, located on the corner. The school probably sat partly where the church does today.

The yard behind the church sported a few flowers, suggesting that at one time, this yard hosted a building of some sort, now only a memory.

These grape hyacinth hardy perennials are probably left over from the old building. Today, they bloom alone in the middle of a yard, beside the church.

Looking at the field behind and beside the church. John played here or saw this very field as it was plowed and grew.

One way or the other, John and his siblings spend many years on this exact spot, walking the mile and a half to and from school, in all types of weather – past that aged tree beside the flooded creek.

The school wasn’t terribly far from the Ferverda farm, but in the winter, it had to be a miserable walk.

Hiram’s farm in red, above, and the location of the school at the red dot, right lower area.

1895

Around 1895, Hiram’s epileptic brother, Henry, who was also an alcoholic, would wind up in the poor house in Marion, Indiana. We know very little about Henry, other than he was never found living with the family after they immigrated to America – and we have no idea how he got to Marion, or the poor house. While I told as much of Henry’s story as I could, there is clearly a great deal that we’ll never know.

In 1895, Eva would deliver child number 9 and a year later, in 1896, Hiram and Eva’s older children would begin marrying.

1896

According to the information from the Ferverda book, this would be the farm near Leesburg. Hiram is holding the baby, and Eva is in the dark dress. My grandfather, John, was on the horse at far right.

On May 30, 1896, Hiram’s baby brother, William Fervida, married Fannie Whitehead who would die in 1910. Fannie Whitehead was collaterally related to Hiram’s wife, Eva Miller, through her mother’s first husband’s family.

William Fervida later married Maude Fulmer and who would give birth to the Fervida line who owns Bauke’s property today.

Just a few months later, Hiram’s first child would marry as well.

Aug. 6, 1896 – Northern Indianian – Marriage licenses – Thomas W. Dye and Edith Ferverda. Thomas Dye and Edith Ferverda were married Sunday. Our best wishes go with them.

Hiram’s daughter, Edith would have two children, Ruth Dye born in 1897 and Dewey Dye born in 1898.

Hiram and Eva weren’t finished having children themselves and would have two more children, Donald (1899) and Margaret (1902), after Edith’s children were born, so Donald and Margaret’s niece and nephew were older than they were.

1897

On April 29th, Hiram’s sister, Melvinda’s son, Levi Gibson died at 10 months and 3 days of age. A day or so later, Hiram and family would have stood at the graveside in Union Center Cemetery, near Bauke Ferwerda’s home as the baby boy was buried.

Melvinda was also known as Malinda, Lijsbert, Elizabeth and Bettie by various spellings. It’s only through her birth, census and death information that we were able to verify that this was one and the same person.

We know that Hiram subscribed to the newspaper.

June 29, 1897 – Northern Indianian

Does this mean Hiram’s subscription was in arrears?

In October 1897, Hiram’s sister, Clara would marry Cletus Miller, Eva’s half first cousin. Clara and Cletus would set up housekeeping next door to Hiram’s father, Bauke and have 5 children; Minnie Miller, Noah Miller, Lucy Miller, Esther Miller and Clara Miller.

They’ve only been here less than one generation and the family is already intermarried!

1898

On April 11, 1898, Hiram’s brother, Henry would pass away in Marion, Indiana of epilepsy. Hiram and his father, Bauke, were both notified, but the family elected to have Henry buried in Marion.

Something else was going on in the family at this time as well, but it’s difficult to tell exactly what. Eight days after Henry died, on April 19^th, Hiram’s father, Bauke, sold his farm to Hiram’s half-brother, William. There was no mortgage or loans.

Fifteen months later, William sold the farm back to his mother, Minnie, Hiram’s step-mother. This arrangement allowed Minnie to own the farm without Bauke deeding it directly to her.

This also effectively shut Hiram, Bauke’s only living child from his first marriage, out of an inheritance since Minnie was not his mother. Minnie’s will in 1906 left everything except Bauke’s widower’s share to her biological children who then sold their portions to their brother William. For all we know, this may have been worked out in advance, but the unusual sequence of events does leave me wondering. It would have been a lot easier for Hiram to simply quitclaim his share if that was the agreement.

1899

In July of 1899, 4 years and 1 day after their last child was born, Eva blessed Hiram with child number 10, Donald.

I did wonder if they lost a baby in 1897, based on the birth order. However, looking at the 1900 census, Eva reports that she birthed 10 children and 10 are living.

Aside from the new baby, it seems that the Ferverda family had a bit of excitement in 1899.

Assault and Battery

October 8, 1899 – Warsaw Daily Times – A large amount of business was conducted at Squire Young’s court Saturday. Ira Ferverda was before Squire Young last Saturday charged with assault and battery on the person of Vern Miller. The young man was found guilty and was fined $1 and costs, amounting to $13.15 which he paid.

This was also reported in the Warsaw Times – except the reverse:

A young man by the name of Verne Miller was before Squire Eiler last Saturday charged with assault and battery on the person of Ira Ferverda. The affidavit against young Miller was filed by Joel Wilkinson, marshal of Leesburg. The young man was found guilty and was fined $1 and costs, which amounted to $15 in all. Both parties reside northeast of this city.

It looks like both boys were fined and probably told to go home and straighten up.

On October 12^th, Hiram’s sister, Melvinda, died leaving a husband, James Gibson and 3 children who would be raised by foster families and then other family members. Unfortunately, there is no record of Melvinda’s cause of death. Melvinda was buried in the Union Center Cemetery with the name of Malinda E. on her tombstone. Hiram’s father would eventually be buried at Union Center too.

According to the newspaper, Hiram was maintaining the roads in Plain Township, or at least the ones that bordered his property.

Nov. 16, 1899 – Northern Indianian – Allowances made by Kosciusko board of commissioners (includes) Hiram Ferverda, gravel roads work in Plain Twp., $7.50.

This would be the first of many such notices.

I think Hiram would be pleased that most of the roads are paved today.

1900

Click to view a larger image.

The 1900 census provides confirmation of Hiram’s children that attended the Oswego School.

March 1, 1900 – Warsaw Daily Times – Chloe Ferverda has sore throat at this writing.

It must have been a slow news day as Chloe’s sore throat was also reported in The Daily Indianian. I wonder if these types of notices is how the newspapers maintained the interest of their readership – and subscribers.

When duplicate newspaper entries occur I have eliminated all but one. The local newspapers seemed to have a bit of rivalry. Often, the same event was reported in both – sometimes in the exact same words.

April 26, 1900 – Northern Indianian

I bet this made for an interesting story around the dinner table!

May 17, 1900 – Northern Indianian – Jurors April term paid: Hiram Ferverda

The Love Note

This note was found in Hiram’s Bible, given to him by Eva for his 46^th birthday. Based on this, it appears that Eva and Hiram had their own Bibles, and I’d wager that the large “family” Bible, now in the possession of descendants, was just for home, meaning it was not portable and was not taken to church.

Indeed, Hiram and Eva are together now, beyond the Golden Gate, along with all of their children and many of their grandchildren.

I wonder what happened to Hiram’s Bible.

Nov. 15, 1900 – Plain Township – entire Republican ticket elected – Road Supervisors – 1. Hiram Ferverda $9.20

It appears that 1900 was the year that Hiram began dabbling in politics.

1901

On March 26, 1901, Hiram’s son, Ira enlisted in the military to serve in the Spanish American War.

This from the Army Register of Enlistments.

Ira was age 23 and a farmer, with blue eyes, light brown hair and a fair complexion. 5’10” tall, he was assigned to the 15^th Cavalry, company F.

Ira was discharged at the end of his service as a Sergeant with excellent service.

I believe Ira was the first Ferverda to serve in the military, bucking the norms of the Brethren religion.

There’s more to this story that we’ll discover in 1916!

Nov. 4, 1901 – Northern Indianian – George Curry and Miss Mary Leedy spent Wednesday evening with Hiram Ferverda and family.

Nov. 21, 1901 – Northern Indianian – Allowances of Kosciusko County board of commissioners (includes) Hiram Ferverda, $5.25 labor for maintaining gravel road.

Another entry, same date shows Hiram 5.25, Hiram .90, Irvin Ferverda 3.00 and 3.15.

I wonder how much time Hiram spent per dollar at that time. Maintaining gravel roads is hard physical labor.

1902

Hiram and Eva’s final child, Margaret, was born January 12, 1902. Eva would be 45 years old 2 months later.

January 15, 1902 – Warsaw Daily Times – Hiram Ferverda and wife – girl.

Less than a month later, Eva’s father died.

February 11, 1902 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Hiram Ferverda was called to Nappanee Friday on account of the death of her father.

May 27, 1902 – Warsaw Daily Times – Delegate to Kosciusko County Republican convention – H. B. Ferverda from First Precinct, Plain Township

June 19, 1902 – Northern Indianian – Wind Accompanying Storm of Thursday Night Causes Damage North and East of Warsaw.

The article lists quite a bit of damage including a house blown off if its foundation and a tree split by lightening. Then, “windpumps on the Ferverda and White farms were blown down.”

Windpumps are another name for windmills that are used to pump water out of the ground.

October 23, 1902 – Northern Indianian – William Jones spent Sunday with Hiram Ferverda and family.

Nov. 13, 1902 – Warsaw Daily Times – George Curry and Mrs. Mary Leedy spent Wednesday evening with Hiram Ferverda and family.

It seem that Hiram and Eva were entertaining quite a bit.

1903

January 7, 1903 – John Ferverda and Roy Huffman left for Angola Monday where they will attend school.

I wonder if John had tried farming to no avail. John would receive his teaching certificate but never teach, instead opting to become a station agent for the railroad.

Two years later, John was reported in school in Goshen, but by 1906 he was living in Carthage in Rush County where he would meet his future wife.

July 8, 1903 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Miller, an aged lady, died at the home of her daughter, Mrs. Ferverda.

Just a year after Eva’s father died, her mother passed away as well and had been living with Hiram and Eva. Elizabeth Lentz Miller was 81 years old. Three generations had been living under the same roof, and 4 were probably often gathered when Hiram and Eva’s grandchildren were present.

July 29, 1903 – Warsaw Daily Times – Ben Hartman’s young people and William Parker and family were the guests of Hiram Ferverda and family on Sunday.

In September, Hiram’s daughter, Elizabeth Gertrude as written in her mother’s Bible, or Gertrude Elizabeth Ferverda as written by others, known as “Gertie,” married one of those Hartman young people.

Sept. 2, 1903 – Warsaw Daily Times – Marriage License for Lewis E. Hartman and G. Ferverda.

Lewis and Gertie would have Louisa Hartman, Earl Hartman, Merritt Hartman, Roberta Hartman and Raymond Hartman, and would then raise two of Louisa’s children as well.

Sept. 9, 1903 – Warsaw Daily Times – On petition of Charles B. Thompson for a road in Turkey Creek Township, Charles D. Beatty, Hiram B. Ferverda and Charles O. Gawthrop were appointed viewers to meet at Oswego Sept. 23.

Sept. 23, 1903 – Warsaw Daily Times – Thomas Dye and wife, Lewis Hartman, wife and two sisters spent Sunday with Hiram Ferverda and family.

October 7, 1903 – Warsaw Daily Times – Hiram Ferverda and wife and William Parker and family took dinner with Henry Lentz and family.

Henry Lentz was Eva’s first cousin, born in 1853. Henry’s wife was Mary Rebecca Parker.

Nov. 18, 1903 – Warsaw Daily Times – Ed Whitehead and wife, of (New) Paris, Anna Beagle, Tom Dye and family and Roy Huffman were the guests of Hiram Ferverda and family on Sunday.

1904

January 27, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Hiram Ferverda was the guest of Mrs. Myer Hartman Saturday.

Feb. 17, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times

Another child married!

Irve would have three children; Mira Ferverda, Rolland Ferverda and Hiram B. Ferverda.

Based on his draft description, Irve had brown hair and brown eyes.

March 9, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Edith Dye visited her parents, Hiram Ferverda and wife last Friday.

March 14, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Hiram Ferverda was elected an alternate designate for the State Republican Senatorial convention committee from Plain Twp.

On March 31^st, Hiram’s family was mentioned 3 times in the paper.

March 31, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Tom Dye and son Eldon spent Monday with her parents, Hiram Ferverda and wife.

Hiram Ferverda and wife were the guests of Thomas Dye and family one day last week.

Ira Ferverda who has for the past 3 years been serving in the army is again at home shaking hands with his many friends.

Ira had served in the Spanish American War, gaining no small amount of notoriety by saving the life of General Pershing. Ira broke his leg in the war, subsequently being declared disabled in June of 1918 due to a medical issue.

April 5, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Lewis Hartman, wife and daughter, Ira Miller and family, of New Paris, Ben Hartman and family, Tom Dye and family, Irve Ferverda and wife, Roy Huffman, Parmelia Gawthrop, Mae Dye and Ira Ferverda spent Sunday with Hiram Ferverda and family.

Hiram and Eva had a houseful!

April 13, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Hiram Ferverda, Ben Hartman, Will Parker, Augustus Neibert and Mrs. Mary Lentz are quite sick.

Sounds like something was “going around.”

April 20, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Hiram Ferverda who has been very sick is improving.

May 5, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Tom Dye and children spent Monday with Hiram Ferverda and family.

June 2, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Dora Method and 2 children, of Milford, Lewis Hartman and wife, of New Paris, Hiram Ferverda and family, Mrs. Myra Hartman and family, spent Monday with Irve Ferverda and wife.

June 7, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Delegate to the county Republican convention at Winona endorses Roosevelt administration. Hiram Ferverda was a delegate from the first precinct of Plain Township.

On June 29^th, Ira Ferverda married Ada Pearl Frederickson. Ira and Ada had either 2 or 3 children, with only Dean living to adulthood. Mary Evelyn died in 1920 the same day she was born, and another child, Frederick is reported to have died as an infant.

July 6, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Hiram Ferverda and wife are entertaining relatives from New Paris and Goshen.

The New Paris address tells us that the guests are Eva’s family.

July 7, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Marriage license granted to Ira Ferverda and Pearl Fredrickson.

The paper was running a few days behind.

July 27, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Under Oswego heading – Mrs. Hiram Ferverda was the guest of Mrs. Myer Hartman Saturday.

August 31, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Hiram Ferverda is visiting friends in Goshen.

September 7, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Hiram Ferverda has returned from a visit in New Paris and Goshen.

Mrs. Tom Dye and children spent Monday with Hiram Ferverda and family.

November 9, 1904 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Hiram Ferverda and two children and Ira Ferverda and wife visited Mrs. Tom Dye on Monday.

Tom Dye was married to their oldest daughter, Edith. Daughters are often referred to by Mrs. plus their husband’s names. At that time, it was a badge of honor of being married and called by your husband’s name.

1905

Jan. 12, 1905 – Northern Indianian – Kosciusko commissioners allowed H. B. Ferverda $6 labor for gravel road.

January 26, 1905 – Northern Indianian – H. B. Ferverda allowed $18 for labor and grading the road

Feb. 2, 1905 – Northern Indianian – Marshal Dye and family of North Webster, J. W. Dye and wife of Ligonier, Hiram Ferverda and family, Thomas Dye and family, Effie Dorsey and Georgia Traster took dinner with Charles Dye and family on Sunday.

March 9, 1905 – Northern Indianian – Ditch notice see below

March 16, 1905 – Northern Indianian – In the matter of the Ditch Petition of Stephen V. Rosbrugh et al in Plain, Wayne and Harrison Townships, to dredge the Tippecanoe River. No 304. Notice is hereby given that the viewers appointed by the Kosciusko have filed their report and will report on April 4, 1905. The ditch affects the lands owned by (long list, including) Hiram B. Ferverda

July 27, 1905 – Northern Indianian – Hiram Ferverda and family; Charles Dye and family; Tom Dye and family; Irve Ferverda, wife and daughter, Myra, Lewis Hartman, wife and daughter, Louise, Winnie Dye and wife; Mr. Shadt and Miss McLaughen held a picnic west of Kalorama Sunday.

Kalorama seems to be on the back side of Lake Tippecanoe, so maybe a mile from where Hiram lived.

In the same paper:

I love old newspapers! I wonder when Hiram purchased his first car. Now THAT would have been newsworthy! Oldsmobiles were mass produced beginning in 1901, but Model T’s not until 1908. Hiram probably didn’t have a “horseless carriage” until after that.

August 24, 1905 – Northern Indianian – Mrs. Hiram Ferverda spent Wednesday last with her son, Irve and wife.

Dec. 7, 1905 – Northern Indianian – Mrs. Tom Dye spent one day last week with her parents, Hiram Ferverda and wife.

October 12, 1905 – Northern Indianian – Irve Ferverda and wife took dinner with Hiram Ferverda and family on last Sunday.

October 19, 1905 – Northern Indianian – Hiram Ferverda and wife spent Sunday with Henry Lentz and wife.

Dec. 7, 1905 – Northern Indianian – Mrs. Tom Dye spent one day last week with her parents, Hiram Ferverda and wife.

1906

Jan. 4, 1906 – The Northern Indianian – Tom Dye and family took Sunday dinner with Charles Dye and family. Irve Ferverda and wife were guests of their parents, Hiram Ferverda and wife.

June 5, 1906 – Warsaw Daily Times – Delegate to the county Republican Convention in Winona Lake – Largest Delegate Body in History of Party Assembled to Select County Ticket – Immense Auditorium is Filled to OverFlowing – Resolutions passed endorsing the administration of President Roosevelt, Governor Hanly, Senators Beveridge and Hemenway and the Work of the Indiana Delegation in Congress – Strong Expression in Favor of Modification of Present Drainage and Fish Laws is Also Embodied – (list of delegates include) Hiram Ferverda.

The verbiage reads that they “condemn the present fish law in its severity and ask the passage of such a law that will so benefit the common people that they will support and obey.”

This fish law, which can be read here, may be strangely relevant!

In essence, this unpopular law prohibits the use of seine, dip nets, gill nets or other kinds of nets, spear, gig or trap and the fine is not less than $5 nor more than $200 for each offense, to which jail time can be added. This does not apply to minnows or private ponds.

June 7, 1906 – Northern Indianian – Republican County Convention ticket is nominated – Plain Township, first precinct, Hiram Ferverda

Hiram’s son John was also a life-long Republican. Of course, the Republican and Democratic parties were both quite different in 1906 than they are now.

September 6, 1906 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mrs. Jane Pollick of Goshen is the guest of Hiram Ferverda and family.

In Elkhart County, Eva’s parents’ estate was finally being closed with their property being sold.

December 22, 1906 – Eva Ferveda (sic) and Hiram Ferveda (sic) her husband of Kosciusko County, Ira J. Miller and Rebecca his wife, Edward E Whitehead and Hattie E. his wife of Elkhart Co. to Calvin Cripe, sect 5 tw 35 – r 6 80 acres Book 114-375 for $3500

1907

Feb. 7, 1907 – Hiram B. Ferverda allowed $7 for hauling tiles working on road.

The tiles would have been for ditching.

March 25, 1907 – Warsaw Daily Union – Hiram B. Fervida, Petit jury for the Circuit Court.

March 28, 1907 – Northern Indianian – Paper reports that a grand jury must be called at least once yearly and the following people’s names were drawn: Hiram Ferverda, petit jury, Plain Twp.

May 2, 1907 – Warsaw Union – Hiram Ferverda and family took Sunday dinner with Ira Ferverda and family.

Accusations and Drama!

June 5, 1907 – Northern Indianian

June 7, 1907 – Warsaw Daily Union

June 12, 1907 – Warsaw Daily Union (paper cost 2 cents).

How closely related was Eva Miller to William Miller? According to family history, William Crowell Miller (1857-1934) was married to Lydia Yoder and lived very close to Hiram Ferverda. William’s father was John J. Miller who married Elizabeth Crowell and John’s father was John B. Miller who married his cousin, Esther L. Miller. John B. was the son of Daniel Miller and Elizabeth Ulrich. Esther Miller was the daughter of Daniel’s brother, David.

Eva’s grandfather was first cousins to both John B. Miller and Esther Miller, so Eva was double third cousins to William Crowell Miller. While they did share a family connection the fact that their fathers were both staunch members of the Brethren church might have done more to unite them than their shared ancestors. But then, everyone in that part of the county was related at about this same level.

Was Hiram prejudiced, or did he have an opinion based on his duties as an appraiser? Or were the allegations simply false? We will never know.

German Brethren Annual Meeting

For Hiram, the trip to California to the German Baptist Annual Meeting in Los Angeles must have been the trip of a lifetime – second only to his immigration journey. We don’t typically think of our ancestors in this time period taking long trips, but Hiram did.

Based on these newspaper dates, below and above, it’s hard to know exactly when this trip occurred, or how long Hiram was gone.

June 13, 1907

Lordsburg, which is today more of a neighborhood, is located about 25 miles east of Lost Angeles, up against the mountains along the Foothills Freeway.

I visited Los Angeles, taking my mother and my son, in 1981 or 1982. Never in our wildest dreams did we ever suspect that Mother’s grandfather had made the trip as well, assuredly via train. By 1876, with the introduction of a train called the Transcontinental Express, a trip from NYC to San Francisco took only three and a half days. Mom and I flew, something Hiram very probably never did.

After returning from his trip, Hiram settled back into daily life.

July 18, 1907 – Warsaw Union – H. B. Ferverda allowed $2 for being a juror

Oct. 31, 1907 – Warsaw Daily Times – The following persons licensed to hunt by the County Clerk: H. B. Ferverda

I wonder why the fact that Hiram was licensed to hunt was worthy of mention in 1907, but never before. Did he not hunt before? Hunting licenses were required in Indiana beginning in 1901.

A Big Change

1908 would bring big changes for Hiram and his family, in more ways than one.

My Brethren ancestor would move to Leesburg and become a Marshall. Yes, Marshall, with a capital M and a badge.

And that’s not all!

Join me for Hiram Ferverda: Part 3 in a few weeks.

Not only is the week preceding Easter a religiously significant week for Christianity, it is as well for Jews who celebrate Passover, the root of Christendom’s Good Friday. The Sunni sect of Islam also fasts in observance of Passover. These religions all have their roots in the same place, just as we are all related to each other.

If Easter, Passover and their associated rites in the various religions that mark these days as Holy are emotion-filled in their own right, this past week has been exponentially so.

By LeLaisserPasserA38 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=78064310

A few days ago, on April 15^th, Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris burned, not quite to the ground, but was extremely damaged in the inferno. The attic of the cathedral, known as “the forest” because of the extremely long old-growth oak trees that were harvested about the year 1160 for beams went up like tinder. The walls and towers remain, along with the famous medieval rose stained-glass windows.

By Julie Anne Workman – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11590000

As fate would have it, many of the statues on the roof and spire had been removed due to ongoing renovation. The treasures inside were passed, hand to hand, through a human chain to remove them as the fire burned through the roof and before the flames engulfed the upper reaches of the cathedral.

A stunned world watched Notre Dame burn for hours, staring breathlessly as night fell and the fire moved along the roofline, consuming everything in its path, like a hungry monster. The spire flamed dramatically, like a torch, then toppled, falling through the roof into the church, leaving skeletal scaffolding surrounding a black hole.

The fire photo above is the only one that I’m sure is copyright-free, being found on Wikipedia, but the images below are the result of a Google search.

One of the images, the third row from the top, third photo from the left, is horribly beautiful. God, Mother Nature or whatever name you call the Deity, created fire, and man created Notre Dame. The fire illuminated the cathedral and backlit the oldest Rose Window, the one without stained glass. Later images show the fire burning through the round window, licking the stones above.

Je Suis Dévastée

I spent the summer of 1970 traveling and living in Switzerland, studying French and culminating with a trip to Paris where we took up residence in a youth hostel for a week or two. We enjoyed a combination of student and tourist activities.

The midwestern city where I grew up supported a large Catholic church and school along with many smaller Protestant churches, but I never realized the differences between Catholicism and the Methodist and Baptist churches that I attended. The extent of my consciousness was that every church had their own “rules.” My perception was that “God” was entirely the same regardless and only man’s “church rules” varied. Therefore, I paid little mind to those differences.

I mention this because it sets the stage for my visit to Notre Dame.

Paris

Paris in August is stiflingly hot. Air conditioning in Europe is rare and was nonexistent in 1970. That didn’t matter, because nothing was air-conditioned in Indiana either.

As students, we noticed the heat, but it didn’t slow us down.

We spent our days on foot, exploring beautiful Paris and her architectural wonders. I distinctly remember feeling immediately at home in Paris, as if I had been there before – long before. I seemed to remember my way along streets that hadn’t changed much since Medieval times to places I’d never been.

I had no way of knowing that my ancestor, Jacques de Bonnevie, was born in Paris about 1660 and was probably baptized in Notre Dame.

I made my way to the Eiffel Tower, the L’Eglise de Sacre Coeur, Montmartre, the Church at Les Invalides and many parks and historic buildings.

As had been my practice during my trip, I found a local church of some description and slipped into the back row on Sunday mornings. Generally, I managed to slip out again, unnoticed, just as the services ended. My interest was as much cultural as religious, but I enjoyed the wide variety of experiences that were beyond what could be found at home.

My time in Paris was drawing to a close. I had one day left. I decided to go on one final walk-about in the city, knowing with certainty that some wonderful adventure awaited. Not one student in my group was interested in accompanying me, but another young man also staying in the hostel, Jon, wanted to go.

Jon and I set out, walking the streets of Paris in the early morning mist, before the city was quite awake. We marveled at wrought iron gates and old limestone buildings with their guardian gargoyles. If there had been selfies back then, we would have taken several as we laughed, talked and walked.

Eventually, we held hands, not as lovers but as fast friends, enjoying a once-in-a-lifetime bonding experience that no one else in the world would ever have. Just the two of us on that last, wonderful, day in Paris.

We walked towards the oldest, most historic part of town with the intention of strolling along the Seine River, land of artists, students, peace, love and happiness. The next day, we would forever be parted, so today would be filled with nothing but joy.

Mesmerized

As Jon and I approached the Seine and began to cross the bridge, Pont de la Tournelle, I stopped dead in my tracks. There was Notre Dame, “Our Lady,” standing sentry on Île de la Cité, an island in the middle of the Seine which is also the middle of both historical and contemporary Paris.

As we stood on the bridge, I took this photo. I didn’t realize at that point in time that the building I was staring at intently was indeed the famous Notre Dame. Jon knew.

What I did know beyond a doubt was that I absolutely HAD to go inside that building. Jon mentioned that it probably wasn’t free, so he and I began counting our money to see how much we had between us.

My status as a student meant that anything requiring an entrance fee was beyond my means. Furthermore, I had spent every last dime of discretionary funds, given that it was my last day in Europe and the money I brought had been rationed across months, day by day.

Jon and I enjoyed our walk along the Seine, from the bridge to Notre Dame, drinking in the ambiance of the lovely day. The sun was high in the sky and the heat was oppressive, but we didn’t care. We found shade along the banks of the river, sitting and talking about our dreams for the future amid the background chatter of others.

Notre Dame is massive and has the effect of making one feel minuscule and inconsequential. I hadn’t yet learned that the cathedral was 800 years old, give or take a few years, but it was obviously enormous, exquisite in every detail and wonderfully historic.

The flying buttresses were fascinating and incredible. I knew nothing of architecture or engineering, but I knew enough to appreciate the uniqueness of Notre Dame. At that time, I had no idea just how extraordinary the cathedral actually was.

I had developed an affinity for gargoyles during my stay in Europe, which I retain to this day.

Jon and I enjoyed spying the gargoyles and other stone carved figures, making up stories about what they were thinking or doing, then laughing at our silliness.

That day could have lasted forever.

Finally, we approached the gargantuan doors of the cathedral, our tone becoming a bit more somber.

By GuidoR – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5284809

We were relieved to discover that admission to the cathedral itself was free although access to some features required payment.

Grateful, we crossed the threshold, leaving the hubbub of the city behind as we entered a cool, tranquil sanctum. The stone walls absorbed any noise and the cavernous interior transported us back in time before the era of cars and horns. We left 1970 behind.

Our eyes needed time to adjust to the darkness. It seemed that in those moments, we had entered another world and found ourselves transported to the past when our vision cleared.

I remember the opulence of the interior, and that Notre Dame was unquestionably the largest church I’d ever seen or been inside of – staggering in its enormity.

I didn’t understand the significance of the Catholic symbols, icons or relics, but I certainly understood the historical importance and unparalleled beauty of the building.

I understood, felt in my bones, the deep silence and peace – the respite within those ancient sheltering walls.

As my vision adapted to the darkness, the light entering through the rose window at the end of the nave was what my eye was immediately drawn towards.

The people here did not seem like tourists, or at least not like the tourists I was used to. They were quiet, subdued and respectful, and I think of them as my co-pilgrims on a journey of discovery and enlightenment.

It’s just that many of us had no idea we were on any such journey.

While the rose windows were not the only stained-glass windows, their position, centered in the distance meant that your eye, and in my case, my body was drawn intensely towards them.

Like a moth to a flame.

As I walked towards the windows, I passed a small table where pilgrims could purchase a candle. Not the votive candles of today, but a tall, thin hand-dipped imperfect candle, maybe 10 or 12 inches long.

The candles weren’t free. I purchased one for a few coins and started to walk, with my unlit candle, towards the rose window, entirely mesmerized. A priest who was selling the candles and helping the pilgrims light them with another candle motioned me to do the same.

I looked confused, and then the Priest looked confused too. Not being Catholic, I didn’t understand the meaning of prayer candles. I did, however, comprehend the fact that a ritual was taking place, and I very much wanted to be a part of the community of ritual in this sacred space.

It didn’t seem as much religious as it did spiritual and inclusive. A human experience.

I lit my candle, but I didn’t cross myself which also served to confuse the Priest. Apparently, he wasn’t used to unschooled non-Catholic teenagers purchasing and lighting candles.

However, even though I lit my candle, I still wanted a candle as my souvenir, so I purchased a second one. Now the Priest was thoroughly confused, especially as I left the group surrounding the candle altars and began walking, alone, carrying my candle, transfixed, towards the rose window.

There are no words to describe what I felt.

The window transported my spirit to another time and place, not of this world. I was entranced, hypnotically drawn into the surreal beauty that seemed ethereal.

The darkness of the church seemed to allow the window, the light and the color to illuminate my soul, opening it like a flower, a rose, to the wonder of beauty, contrast and color that would endure for the rest of my life. A divine seed was being sewn in fertile soil that I didn’t understand existed.

Even today, this window has a trance-like spellbinding effect on me, as do other mandalas, including the labyrinth I constructed in my yard.

This life-defining experience initiated a chain reaction of events that won’t end until I “walk on” at the end of my life.

I don’t know how long I spent in Notre Dame that day. I have very little recollection of anything inside except for the transformative experience with the candle and the window. I kept looking for and at the rose window, from every angle, as if it were an ever-present peaceful anchor beckoning in a sea of turmoil.

If you’re lost, just look for the orienting window to find your way. It’s always there.

Jon and I left when the cathedral closed and they shooed us out.

That candle remained among my possessions for many years and life-chapters, even though it broke and cracked. Eventually, life’s events consumed the candle itself, but never the effects of Notre Dame on my life. Notre Dame infused me with my love of history, and more, much more.

Far beyond a building or a church and having nothing to do with a specific religion, Notre Dame was, to me, a place of transition or metamorphosis, a portal from this world finding passage into the infinite beauty of the eternal soul.

My experience in Notre Dame was more a nearly-invisible signal than an epiphany. I had no idea at the time what was so subtly occurring and would only connect the dots, slowly, decades later – in part as I watched Notre Dame burn. Many times a well-placed pebble sets us on our life-path.

So yes, as I sat, horrified, watching the flames consume Notre Dame, I truly was devastated. A little part of me died too as I desperately sought to see my beloved rose window in the footage as the fire burned.

I, along with the rest of the digitally-connected world watched helplessly, and to some extent, hopelessly.

Torn

I was torn between the stark contrast of devastating loss and the surreal beauty of the fire itself. Torn between agonizing loss and hope that not all would be lost. Torn between knowing that Notre Dame is just a building, and that it’s much more.

These are the thoughts that, in no particular order, raced through my mind at various times as I watched throughout the day, and night:

Icon

Coronation

Sanctuary

Witness to history

Survivor

Pope

Grief

National symbol

Accident

Disaster

Ave Maria

Mystical

Catastrophic

Jon

What happened to Jon?

Rose windows

Shared sorrow

World history

Beauty

Ancient

Hymns

Monument

Prayer

Mourn

Slow agony

Renovation

Burn

Church

Hope

Fire

Heartbreak

Museum

Aflame

Can’t rebuild the past

Unity

Reconstruction

Medieval

Respite

Devastation

Emblem

Salvation

Epic

Treasure

Tragic

Holy Week

Revolution

Peace

Crown of Thorns

Relics

Catholic

Beyond Catholic

Religious

Beyond Religious

800 years

32 lifetimes

Ancestor

Baptism

Loss

Anguish

Bonding

Rebuild

Respite

Disbelief

Paris

Agony

Transformation

Human chain

Stab in our collective hearts

Building

Metaphor

Everyone’s past

Permanent

Not permanent

World heritage

UNESCO

Cherish

Cross

Candles

Transcendent

Vessel

Passover

This too shall pass

And there I stopped, because I realized that yes, this too shall pass. Just like Passover in the Jewish faith and Good Friday with the story of the Resurrection in the Christian faith. The end is not necessarily the end. There can be hope, resurrection and salvation even after torturous trials. Notre Dame is metaphorical for all of humanities’ struggles.

Notre Dame is but a building, albeit an incredibly iconic historic one. Buildings can be restored and rebuilt. The heart and soul of Notre Dame is the heights that she inspires people to achieve, the good that she invests in the human condition and the light she shines on the future. Her value is not the building itself, but what she represents, the values she embodies and the inspiration she provides.

Indeed, this dark chapter too shall pass, perhaps uniting and unifying disparate people. Maybe there is a larger lesson in her destruction and rebirth – one for all of humanity. Perhaps this too is a seed of renewal. I hope we comprehend and internalize the message in our current generation and ones that follow.

If so, the hope, inspiration and beauty that Notre Dame infused in me and the seeds she yet holds to plant will live on immortally to guide others and cradle them eternally in her rose-colored, transcendent, illuminating light.

I never write my 52 Ancestor stories from the road, but this is an exception because of the incredible series of events that happened over the past couple days. So, be warned, nothing you are seeing is “cleaned up,”

My Jewish friend, Moishe, shared with me the Yiddish phrase, “bashert” – destined to be. I’ll let you decide.

I’ll just simply say that once again, I had to call my husband and begin the conversation with, “Well, you’re never going to believe this…”

I swear, I think our ancestors reach out and help us from time to time – that is, when they aren’t stubbornly hiding

One key to accurately remembering people, places and events is to record things when they happen. We all think we are going to remember, but we don’t. Consider this my “journal” and you’re coming along on my great adventure!

The Best Laid Plans

This week marks the 13^th anniversary of mother’s passing over.

Mom and I set out on ancestor search adventures from time to time. I did the genealogy and research part, but we traveled together to discover our ancestral locations. What fun we had, and how I miss her.

My plan this week was to visit Warsaw, Indiana to obtain deeds, wills and court information for Hiram B. Ferverda (1854-1925) my great-grandfather – mother’s grandfather – who died when she was a toddler. She knew of him, but doesn’t remember him, although she knew her grandmother who lived another 14 years well. How I wish I could ask mother to show me exactly where they lived, but alas, I can’t so I went searching through genealogical means.

I thought that finding mother’s grandmother’s house, where she played as a child, was fitting on the day of that 13^th anniversary. Not only would it honor mother, it might take some of the sting out of the day, and I would wind up in the cemetery where Mom is buried at days end, sharing my discoveries with her. Who knows, maybe she would even answer a few questions!

But that wasn’t at all what happened – and I’m blaming mother. It was her influence, pure and simple!

Warsaw – Finding My Way

My goal was to determine which lot in the very small town of Leesburg, Indiana that Hiram owned and drive by. Does the house still remain today?

Seems pretty simple – right?

While I was in Warsaw, the Kosciusko County seat, I also wanted to obtain Hiram’s will and take a look in the court indexes.

That sounds a lot easier than it turned out to be – not the least of which was because the several hours drive was undertaken in the midst of spring rains that had lasted for days. Everything was entirely sodden and the sky hadn’t seen any color other than grey for days.

The good news was that I managed to arrive at the Kosciusko County courthouse before noon. The bad news was that while the deed was easy to obtain and the recorder’s staff was quite helpful, the clerk’s office wasn’t nearly as accommodating. When I told them I needed copies of 3 wills, they informed me that they normally didn’t “just stop work to take care of people.” I explained my situation and asked what my options were, given that a preliminary call hadn’t been helpful either and I drove from out of state.

The person stated that she was leaving for the day and I could look in the will index myself. Hurray! That’s what I wanted to do in the first place. However, after that, I didn’t feel I should press my luck and ask for court records too. Besides that, time was running short and I still wanted to drive to Leesburg as well as on to Elkhart County before ending the day at Mom’s grave.

Suffice it to say that on my way out the door, I asked the Kosciusko County surveyor, who had been extremely helpful by plotting the lots in Leesburg for me, if he happened to know which road on the neighboring Elkhart County Union Township plat map abutted Kosciusko County. Hiram Ferverda grew up on his father’s farm in Union Township and I was having trouble correlating the old plat map with the current roads.

Roads change names from county to county, the old names aren’t the current names and new roads are constructed, which makes everything more confusing.

The surveyor was kind enough to tell me the names of the Kosciusko County roads I’d need to turn onto in order to be on the right road when I crossed the county line into Elkhart County.

My chicken scratches and the surveyor’s directions to the intersection of sections 35 and 36 in Union Township, Elkhart County from Kosciusko County. I hand drew State Road 6, in red, built since this 1929 plat map and cutting across section 35 where I believed Bauke’s land was located.

Union Township, Elkhart County

After locating Hiram’s land in Leesburg, I was planning to drive by what I believed to have been the land of Hiram’s father, Bauke Hendrik Ferwerda, known as Baker here in the US. Both Hiram and Bauke were immigrants from the Netherlands and settled in Elkhart County in 1868. Bauke proceeded to both farm and teach.

At the time that Bauke immigrated, he was married to his second wife, Minke Van der Kooi, known at Minnie. Names tended to be Anglicized, probably based on pronunciation.

Minke and Bauke had 2 daughters when they left the Netherlands, but only one would survive the passage. The youngest child, about a year old, learned to walk on the ship according to family stories passed through the generations.

Bauke had been married previously to Geertje Harmens de Jong who died in 1860. She and Bauke had 3 children, a daughter who died, Hiram whose Dutch name was Harmens Bauke and Henry, whose Dutch name was Hendrik.

Both boys, above, ages 14 and 11 in 1868 when they immigrated helped their father homestead.

The Ferwerda’s were a Dutch Mennonite family in the US who spoke neither English nor German. They settled among the German Brethren in Elkhart County along with some of the other Dutch families who sailed on the same ship. The Mennonite and Brethren religions are more similar than different and Bauke and family soon became Brethren – if not immediately.

I haven’t yet written Bauke’s story, and this is certainly a part of the larger picture, but this adventure is deserving of its own individual article because it’s just so doggone amazing!

Horses and Buggies

After a few wrong turns, I found myself on the back roads of Kosciusko County. Turning north onto Kosciusko County road 300 West, I quickly found myself crossing over the county line where I was on Elkhart County Road 15, not to be confused with Indiana State Route 15 which runs parallel about 2 or 3 miles east.

I told you it was confusing!

It’s no wonder I couldn’t put these pieces together from maps alone.

I pulled to the side of the road to photograph two beautiful horses in a green field. Emphasis on green. In Michigan it is still very cold and nothing is green. Indiana is about 3 weeks ahead of Michigan.

While I was trying to encourage the horses to meander closer to the fence for a better picture, an Amish horse-drawn buggy passed me.

How many people in a Jeep can say they’ve been passed by an Amish buggy?

This land is very hilly, and the last thing I wanted to do was spook the horse, so I stayed quite a ways back until after we finished in the hilly section, including the railroad tracks which parallel the county line a few feet away.

The children in the back of the buggy were packed in snugly and coyly waved.

After we crossed the bridge spanning Turkey Creek, the buggy moved to the right and I very slowly passed on the left where the bridge widened.

I drove on past, looking for the first road, which I thought was the road on the north side of Bauke’s land. Google maps wouldn’t let me “drive” down that road, because it was dirt, but it looked from the aerial to have an older house that might, just might, be Bauke’s original home. I wanted to take a look.

On the plat map, you can see that the land was owned by William O. Ferverda, Bauke’s son, in 1929. Bauke had died in 1911.

In section 35, there’s a divit with an arrow that looks like it was owned by someone else.

It had begun to rain again, as I turned down the road.

Not to be deterred, I found the house that looked to be older, but of course I had no way of knowing if that house was Bauke’s old home. It was located where it could be the divit.

I continued driving down the road, when I became a bit hesitant. The road was dirt and it was VERY muddy.

So muddy, in fact, that I was seriously concerned about becoming stuck. Looking down the road, I realized that there was too much water, and although the road wasn’t entirely flooded, it was certainly uncomfortably water-logged. Jeep or not, stuck is stuck.

Not only that, but I didn’t have enough room to turn around and I could feel the road “squishing” under my tires.

Nope, no turning around. I needed to back straight out of there, very slowly. One false move and I’d be there until the road hardened enough that a tractor could get to me. Translate – days.

I began backing, fully intending to turn into the driveway of the house I had passed near the corner.

I backed for nearly half a mile.

Looking in the rear-view mirror – I saw it. That same buggy.

I slowed once again and was going to tell them that the road was in bad shape if not impassable, when they turned into the farmhouse where I was going to turn around.

I still needed to turn around.

I pulled into their driveway when I decided that I’d have to overcome my shyness and pull on up to the barn and ask if they knew any of the Ferverda family. That old plat map was from 90 years ago, so I was sure the land was sold out of the family generations before, but perhaps they knew some local history. Maybe they knew if it was the Fervida farm at one time. Memories in farm country are long and farmers tend to know the history of their land – but almost 100 years might be hoping for too much.

Approaching the buggy, I realized that the oldest person was a female, perhaps in her 30s, so I wasn’t very hopeful. She was understandably reserved, but after petting her dog, chatting for a few minutes, showing her the plat map with the Ferverda name and asking if a specific plat across the road from William Ferverda’s land was her land – she acknowledged that it was and told me that yes, she did know some Ferverdas and I might want to stop at the house across the road.

The House Across the Road

When you’re on a corner, the house across the road can be multiple houses. There were 2 within view. Both houses in question were newer, so I was fairly sure that neither was the house I was looking for. I was disappointed, but given that the road was flooded, I had no other options. I pulled slowly down the road, hoping someone might be outside – but it was raining so that was unlikely.

As I approached the first, smaller house, with grain bins and barns behind the home, I noticed a large rock out front.

Then, I saw it. My brain didn’t believe what my eyes were registering.

What???

I sure am glad I didn’t just drive on. Between the horse, buggy, corner, rain and mud, I had never looked at the rock. Yes, I had driven by it before but since the house was modern, I hadn’t paid much attention.

I pulled into the driveway, just as a pickup was pulling out of the driveway on the other side of the house. I frantically waived for him to stop.

The man pulled down to my driveway and I asked if he was a Ferverda. “No,” he said, “I work for Scott Fervida and he’s home with a sick child.” I asked if this was still the Ferverda farm and he confirmed that it was – then told me to go on over to the house across the road where Scott lived.

I was extremely hesitant to just walk up to someone’s door and knock. They are going to be justifiably suspicious and I’m actually rather shy. Plus – farm dogs can be pretty intimidating.

The man in the truck did me the favor of calling Scott and warning him, then offered to take my photo with the Fervida farm stone.

Meeting Scott

I summoned my courage and walked up to Scott’s door. He graciously asked me inside. The nice young man in the truck had told him that I was “related somehow.” I had the plat map in hand and explained that my mother was a Ferverda and that Hiram had been Bauke’s son.

Scott said that he had the immigration papers of Bauke in his office. By this time, he could have been Jeffrey Dahmer because I would follow him willingly to my death to see Bauke’s naturalization papers – with the original seal no less!!!

Scott’s lovely wife and children were home too, and we all began chattering and talking like magpies.

Scott mentioned that their fireplace mantle, above, and one beam, above the window, below, was from Bauke’s old barn. Those logs were hand stripped of bark with an adze.

A few minutes later, Scott mentioned that his parents lived just down the road on the next farm. His wife called them, and they arrived in short order.

How exciting, an impromptu family reunion!

Scott went to the safe and retrieved a file folder of goodies. We looked through the old envelopes and papers, most of which were from the late 19-teens, the 1920s and later.

Scott is the 5^th generation Ferwerda, then spelled Ferverda, now Fervida, to own this land.

Ferwerda, Ferverda or Fervida?

The answer is yes, all 3. In the Netherlands and in Bauke’s naturalization papers, the name is spelled Ferwerda. In short order, here, the w became a v. On the 1929 plat map, William’s name is spelled Ferverda. In a 1940 newspaper article, it’s Fervida.

In the cemetery, Bauke’s name is spelled Fervida, as is William’s. I suspect Bauke’s stone was set later, not when he died in 1911.

By the time Hiram was found in the records, his surname was spelled Ferverda.

So yes, all 3 and now the descendants of the two sons of Bauke spell their surnames Ferverda (through Hiram) and Fervida (through William.)

Bauke’s House

Scott’s father, Don, told me that Bauke’s original house was a small cabin. Most early cabins were about 10X12 or maybe 12X16 – amazingly small for a family – but what every family began with.

By at least 1920, a new house had been built, and probably long before.

I mention this because in the 1910 census, Bauke is living with son William and family who is listed as the head of household, beside Cletus Miller, as shown on the 1929 plat map. It’s likely that the new house is shown in this photo above, with the old cabin right next door to the right.

Don showed me where the old house stood, not terribly far from the Fervida rock, and then he pointed out where the cornerstones for the original cabin had remained, long after the cabin was gone.

Eventually, the cornerstones had to go when a new grain silo needed to be installed where the cabin once stood.

Bauke’s Barn

Another item in Scott’s office was a framed aerial photo of the property that included the original barn, now torn down.

There’s a lot of glare on the glass from the window, but you can see the barn.

We know that the barn immediately in front of the original barn is 40X80 because of this article detailing the barn raising in 1920.

I laughed at the mention of how many automobiles were there. Apparently the horse and buggy had been replaced in the Brethren families, but most women never drove.

The barn wall of the original barn was incorporated into the “new” barn as a cost savings measure. Farmers were always frugal.

I grew up on a farm and love barns. Don took me inside the barn and showed me the original studs remaining and how they “shored up” old wall and retrussed it to be part of the new wall.

You can see that the studs have been reused as there are notches for connecting beams no longer present.

Pinch me, here I was standing in Bauke’s barn.

A day ago, I didn’t even know it existed.

Surreal doesn’t even begin to touch this.

Don grew up on this farm, helping his father, Eldon, who was William’s son. William didn’t pass away until 1960, so Don knew him well.

This early International Harvester tractor looked much like the one I learned to drive.

Of course, now its dwarfed by contemporary monstrous tractors and modern equipment.

I tool this photo for the rock, but it shows the current “new” barn and other out-buildings in relation to the grain silo with the conical shaped bottom, to the right behind the tree and barn.

William Fervida and Family

Unfortunately, we don’t have a photo of Bauke, although Don is checking with his sister to be sure.

We do have a lovely photo of William and family.

Thank goodness someone wrote on the back!

Bauke’s Furniture

When the Fervida family had to tear William’s house down, they salvaged the remaining original furniture.

Scott was kind enough to show me both pieces, lovingly integrated into his home.

Here, Scott and Don stand beside Bauke’s cupboard. My mother called these pieces “Hoosier cupboards.” One of the reasons I think Bauke built the larger house before his death, as opposed to William later, is because a piece of furniture this size would take a disproportionate part of a log cabin. It simply wouldn’t fit.

Scott said that this piece, and the one below were both refinished by an Amish craftsman because they were literally black with age and wear.

This dresser lives in the spare bedroom. That’s me, very happily taking the picture and framed in the mirror, like a mirror into the past. That was Scott’s lovely daughter’s suggestion! I told her she needs to study genetics

Notice the candlestands beside the mirrors.

The corners of the drawers are beautifully dovetailed.

Saved the Best for Last

After returning downstairs, I mentioned my Mom’s Bible in the context of my article last week. Scott said, “well, maybe you’d like to see this,” walked into his office again, and pulled this off of his shelf.

“What’s this?”, I asked.

Don told me that before his grandfather, William, died, William told him to be sure this Bible didn’t leave the family.

The Bible always sat on the dresser in William’s house, in the center. That’s the same dresser with me in the mirror.

This beautiful Bible is worn.

The first thing Scott’s mother and I did was to look for names, births, deaths and marriages. Not one thing was recorded.

On the front page, we noted that the Bible was published by Mennonite Publishing Company.

It’s interesting because the oral family history on my side stated that the brother, William, who lived near Nappanee was Mennonite. However, Don indicated that the family was always Brethren to the best of his knowledge.

Clearly, William felt this was a heirloom when he passed away.

The Mennonite Publishing Company published from 1875-1908 but of course this doesn’t necessarily mean that’s when the Ferverda family obtained the Bible.

There was no copyright, per se, but we did find that this had been registered in the Library of Congress in 1884 which at that time seemed to function in essentially the same way. It’s likely that this Bible was purchased originally sometime after 1884 and before 1908, meaning before Bauke’s death.

Unfortunately, there were no dates recorded in the Bible, but a lot of political newspaper clippings from later years.

That was torture!

These large “Big Bibles” or “Great Bibles” as they were called weren’t carried to church, but were used in home readings and study.

Judging from the wear on the cover, this Bible was well-used. It’s in amazingly good condition given that it’s someplace between 110 and 135 years old.

We know unquestionably that it was Williams. Was it Bauke’s?

Dinner

As the afternoon turned into early evening, I realized I really needed to get on the road as I had miles to go before reaching my destination for the evening. Furthermore, I was probably standing between these people and their dinner.

Scott’s wife asked me if I would join them for dinner, but I felt I had already intruded enough. I had literally been there for hours.

I declined, mentioning that I wanted to visit my grandparent’s graves in Silver Lake yet that day, winding up in Peru an hour and a half further south near where Mom was buried, preferably before nightfall.

As Scott’s parents exited through the garage, I left with them, saying my goodbyes. Don asked me once more if I wouldn’t join them in town, Nappanee, for dinner. I really, really wanted to, but I needed to visit Mom’s grave yet and had planned to be another 90 minutes south before morning when I would drive on to St. Louis. It was already going to be a long day. If I stayed for dinner, I wouldn’t make it any further south. And I wouldn’t see Mom on the 13th anniversary of her passing.

What to do?

Don’s wife suggested a couple hotels in Nappanee, and I decided to call my husband and see if he could book me in someplace. While that was taking place, I would indeed join Don and his wife for dinner. Fingers crossed.

As we drove the few miles into town, the rain became torrential, meaning that we were soaked to the skin in the 10 feet from the vehicles to the door of the restaurant. I was VERY glad I had opted not to drive further and very much enjoyed visiting with my Fervida cousins.

As our meal was delivered to our table, Don said grace, a practice long lost in most places, but not in the Fervida family in Indiana. I added my own special thank you for finding my Fervida family, thanks to a buggy and a flooded road.

I so enjoyed absorbing everything Don had to say. I wish I had more time to spend.

The Hotel

I spent the night in the “red hotel” as the locals call it, just down the road from this round Amish barn on Amish Acres. I grew up with round barns nearby and hadn’t seen one in years.

As I tucked myself in for the evening, in a room with quilts and handmade curtains, the rain poured relentlessly. I looked outside to see torrents of water running and inches everyplace. There was too much rain and no place for it to go.

The morning light would reveal floods, including flash floods that washed across roads, stripping the fertile topsoil in the fields away. These are the days that try farmers’ souls. I wondered if Bauke saw floods like this.

Floods

My morning began with water in the lower level of the hotel. Fortunately, my room was on the second floor.

The rains had lulled, at least momentarily, but every time I woke up during the night, the rain was still pounding on the roof.

The sun tried to peek through the clouds, but soon gave up and retreated.

The first thing I needed to do was find a grocery store or someplace to purchase a bouquet of flowers to divide between the graves of my grandparents, my Mom and step-father and my two step-siblings. All stores in Amish country have special areas for parking horses and buggies.

I realized that in my excitement the previous day that I had forgotten to ask Scott if I could have a rock for my garden from Bauke’s farm. I often collect a rock to take home, something permanent and tangible from the land that once belonged to my ancestors. I particularly like rocks plowed from their fields, and no farmer ever says, “No, I want all those rocks to hit with the plow.”

Scott indicated that he wasn’t home, but that he’d call Don and see if he was available. I told Scott I could easily find a rock along the edge of a field, I just needed permission, not assistance.

As I drove down State Road 6, I looked to the right to see Bauke’s land entirely covered with water. Turkey Creek had not only overflowed its banks, it had over-washed the road and covered the fields. You can see the grain silos in the distance in the location of Bauke’s original home.

I was sick at heart for Don and Scott, because as a farm girl, I knew exactly what this meant.

Rocks

I went the “long way round,” avoiding the floodwaters and pulled into the driveway of the barn.

I saw a rock that someone had thrown out of the field and that was waiting for me to rescue it, sitting patiently in the roots of a nearby tree.

As I carried the rock to the car, Don pulled in the driveway too. I quickly explained that Scott had given permission for me to rock shop, and I explained to Don that I add ancestor rocks to my garden as a way of bringing a little bit of them home with me. As it turned out, Scott had called Don and Don had found me a wonderful rock, in addition to the one I picked up.

As we talked, I mentioned that I’d like to pick up a couple small stones to take to my grandfather’s grave and my mom’s. He offered to help, and we drove across the road to a culvert where Don had installed catch basins the year before.

The road was full of corn cobs, meaning that during the night, the water had over-washed the road, taking with it soil and anything else it could carry away as it raced towards Turkey Creek. Not just flash flood warnings, but flash floods indeed.

Don helped me select and clean the mud off the rocks to take to the cemeteries.

As we drove back to my vehicle, I noticed yet another rock, about half the size of a small car. We opined that this one was a bit too large for the Jeep. What a beautiful stone that Bauke didn’t even know he had. Don found it plowing and decided it was too beautiful to bury. I wondered what kind of stone it was, and Don replied that it was “just a stone of some kind,” an answer very similar to one my beloved step-father gave my kids decades ago when asked the same question about one of his field rocks.

I asked Don if I could take his picture in front of the Fervida Farm rock that he and his wife had engraved for Scott’s birthday. The farm equipment in the background is just so appropos. Wouldn’t Bauke be amazed at the changes in farming since he plowed this ground, probably using a mule and standing on the plow.

I thanked Don again, for everything, but in particular for being such a wonderful steward of our ancestor’s farm. I’m so glad that Scott loves it as much as Don.

Turkey Creek

Turkey Creek snakes its way through Bauke’s farm, swollen and flooded.

No driving down the road today. The creek has overflowed everyplace!

Skeletal irrigation equipment looks strangely out of place.

As I drove away, I turned back one last time to take a final, lingering look and say goodbye.

I crossed the bridge where less than a day earlier, I had passed that Amish buggy.

Today, on my way out, I was stopping at the church that had once been Turkey Creek Brethren Church. Don said that to the best of his knowledge, the Ferverda family had always been Brethren in the US. Bauke and family were members of Turkey Creek Church.

I asked why they were buried at Union Center Church cemetery if they had attended Turkey Creek, and Don said that there was no cemetery at Turkey Creek – even though it was an older church. All Brethren were buried at Union Center. I never thought of that.

Turkey Creek Church

Turkey Creek Brethren church ceased operation in 2012 and the building has since been purchased by another congregation.

The church remains the same, with the original structure incorporated into the current building.

The old trees were probably here when Hiram drove his horse and buggy up this same pathway to the church.

A sign commemorates the original church.

I pulled into the parking lot to take a closer look. I was hoping to see some part that I could identify of the original building, but no dice.

Even the cross is much more contemporary that it appears from a distance.

As I walked towards the rear of the church, I realized something very important.

That grain elevator in the distance is Bauke’s land, a mile away.

You can see the church on the 1929 plat map, at left. I’ve marked it as well as the location of the barns and grain bins today with red arrows. A section is a mile wide.

The flooded fields between the church and the grain silos are Bauke’s. It’s no wonder that Bauke and family attended Turkey Creek Church – it was literally right next door, within sight. The next generations of Ferverda/Fervida men would also attend Turkey Creek Church. Understanding the history of Turkey Creek Church and Union Center explained why the Fervidas were members in one place and buried in another. Previously, I had presumed membership at Union Center because that’s where they were buried.

My Grandfather, Pawpaw

Leaving Turkey Creek church behind, I headed for Silver Lake, 45 minutes away where John Ferverda, my grandfather, Bauke’s grandson is buried.

I arranged the flowers in a milk jug I had brought along for the occasion, placing the rocks lovingly at John’s end of the stone. The larger rock from Bauke’s farm and the smaller one from Hiram’s. John grew up on Hiram’s farm, of course, but he assuredly visited his grandfather. Bauke didn’t pass away until John was 29 years old. John probably played in Bauke’s fields and along the banks of Turkey Creek.

Mom

My next stop was the cemetery in Galveston, Indiana where Mom is buried. I feel like I’ve traveled the Ferverda Cemetery trail these past few days.

Mom’s married surname at her death was Long, but my brother and I had her birth surname inscribed on the front as well, along with his and mine on the back. Once a genealogist, always a genealogist.

I placed the stone from Hiram’s farm where Mom’s father grew up beside the stone from Bauke’s farm – the one Don had so graciously washed for the journey.

I wonder how long those stones, a small piece of her ancestor’s lives, will remain. I hope that they will survive to greet a future generation who will stand where I stood and wonder why someone placed those stones on Mom’s grave.

One might say that Mom wanted these stones. She certainly sent me on quite the round-about adventure on the way to visit her grave – and it made me a day late.

What an incredible gift.

Thanks Mom!

This Mother’s Day morning I woke up half way home from St. Louis. I had been speaking at the 2019 NGS Conference in St. Charles, Missouri and drove part way yesterday after my luncheon session.

The rain has been incessant not for hours, not days, but weeks. The rivers aren’t just swollen, they have crested and then crested their crests. Entire farms are underwater, half way up grain silos and barns.

Those farmers won’t recover.

I anticipated a difficult drive in the rain, which is why I stopped as dusk fell – outside Indianapolis last evening.

Indy is about an hour from where I grew up – and I was NOT driving through my hometown.

Mother’s Day is difficult enough without that on top of the fact that the only thing left there to visit is Mother’s grave. I made that stop on my way to St. Louis, taking Mom flowers and rocks from her ancestors’ land.

Mother

I didn’t immediately remember that it was Mother’s Day when I woke up in my roadside hotel this morning but was quickly reminded at the first place I stopped for coffee. I needed coffee to stay awake in the four and a half hours of grey drizzle.

Of course, I immediately began thinking about mother. It IS Mother’s Day, after all.

Mom’s high school graduation photo in 1940. You’ll pardon me if I say that she was beautiful and reminds me so much of my daughter.

I pondered memories of the farm, my kids spending summers there with Mom – and when my son dropped his pop upside down in Mom’s purse. Such fun but all memories since she is gone.

Just over 4 hours to home, now.

The rain increased, the sun hiding forever. Boring grey windshield time.

I remembered earlier Mother’s Days; ones that mother celebrated with us.

Often, we drove to Fort Wayne or Auburn, Indiana, about 3 hours each way to meet Mom for lunch on Mother’s Day. We generally met at the Ponderosa in Auburn. Ponderosa had a buffet AND a senior discount. Never mind that Mom wasn’t paying – that’s where she wanted to go.

I also recalled the miserable Mother’s Day, also raining, that I loaded the last of the items from her apartment into a rental truck, a couple weeks after her death. I do believe that was literally the worst Mother’s Day I ever had. I tried not to think about that today – actively having to put those thoughts out of my mind as they snuck in from time to time.

I drove past State Road 18, the road that if I turned west would take me past the cemetery where Mom is buried and another 20 miles or so on down that road, to the farm that I loved so much. Such wonderful memories there.

Yes, State Road 18 had always been the road home – but not today. In fact, not for the past many years. My mind wandered down 18, reliving memories, regardless of whether I wanted it to or not.

Mother’s Day tribute songs were playing on the radio.

I decided that I needed a bathroom break near Auburn, but there are too many memories there, so I decided to bypass that exit and stop at the rest stop up the road.

As I drove past the Ponderosa at the Auburn exit, I noticed the sign on the building that said “Available.” The Ponderosa had closed – just one more thing that connects me to Mom gone.

I cried and pulled in at the rest area, needing a break and a walk. The rain wasn’t the only difficult part of this drive today.

Inside the rest area was the seal of the State of Indiana, laid into the tile floor.

I smiled, realizing that I was literally driving through a lifetime of memories – from my birth to this very day.

On the road again, I remembered little things.

Like when I made my own clothes and Mom marked the hems while I stood on a kitchen chair. She would tell me to stand still. I don’t think those hems were ever straight!

Or when a date would arrive to pick me up – he had to come to the door and converse with my mother before we could leave. The date always looked incredibly uncomfortable. That just might have been the idea.

One certainly did NOT go outside and just get into the car. And if any young man would have had the bad judgement to honk the horn, I wasn’t going anyplace with him then or ever.

Thank goodness the boys all had more common sense than that.

I had to smile as I remember Mom shaking her finger and lecturing one young man about something as he repeated “Yes Ma’am” over and over. I don’t think he ever asked me out again. That too was probably the idea:)

I passed by tractors with their plows attached, abandoned in the fields, and I knew the farmers had started plowing and couldn’t go further. I also know what that means – they’re probably stuck, and stuck or not – they aren’t doing anything until the land has an opportunity to dry. Every day lost in the spring can’t be recovered and the farmers try not to show their worry or emotion – but you can hear it in their voices.

I crossed the state line into Michigan, glad to leave Indiana and her memories behind.

Just 2 and a half hours to go now.

Crossing the Line

No one tells you when your mother dies that you never “get over” the grief. No one explains that while you may be a mother yourself, and you cherish your own children recognizing Mother’s Day and spending time with you, that your smile is hiding the tears you shed earlier for your own mother.

No, it’s never over and it never ends.

I try very hard to salve the grief with the good memories, but good memories are gateways to the tears – because there are no new good memories.

I had to focus on the road construction and the rain. Maybe that was a good thing.

I passed Lansing where I moved when I left Indiana. Mom visited often and we set out on new adventures. She loved antique shops and there were lots to explore in Michigan.

Now, half an hour east of Lansing, the grey rain continued as did the construction. However, there seemed to be a problem.

The Cross

Across the median I noticed a car pulled over with its doors open as if someone exited hurriedly. I slowed, immediately thinking that someone might need help. I saw people in the median.

Glancing back and forth between the median and the road with the orange barrels, I caught a quick glimpse of the scene – now seared into my memory in those brief seconds.

First, I saw two dark grey shapes, silhouettes of people, along with bright colors, which confused me.

Then, I realized that one person was on their knees, on the ground in the rain, their back towards me, with the other person bent over them from the right, hand on their shoulder. What looked like flowers were on both sides of the person on the ground.

Flowers?

What is someone doing on their knees in the rain?

Was someone or something hurt?

Had someone been hit?

Was there also a car in the median someplace?

Did I need to call 911?

Did I need to stop and help?

I slowed, preparing to stop, when I saw it…

A white cross in front of the person on their knees.

A few months ago, there was a horrific accident in that stretch of highway involving many cars and semis which resulted in 3 fatalities.

That white cross was not there before.

Those people get to spend this Mother’s Day remembering – in the rain, in the median, on their knees, head bowed, in front of the white cross, planting colorful flowers.

They can’t take their mother flowers anymore.

Or, is the person kneeling the mother who is marking the location of her child’s death? Two young people died that terrible day.

I don’t have the answer, and it only matters to them. Grief is grief regardless.

I wished I could have taken a quick photo in the cold rain. Nothing could ever be more effective or poignant in promoting safe driving, but I would never have intruded into such a private space.

I realized in that soul searing moment that the sadness I carry about my mother’s death – and will for the rest of my life – can’t be compared to the agonizing grief these people must surely feel. In the median of an expressway, alone but at the same time, on public display.

Mother passed over at 83, she wasn’t ripped from me, from the prime of her life, in a horrific pileup accident that took nearly a day to clear.

I’m suddenly grateful for my flavor of grief.

I’m fortunate that I can grieve softly, and slowly, knowing that mother completed her life. Realizing that missing her and wanting more goodness is normal. I’m not grieving for what could have and should have been but that I was robbed of by someone else’s negligence. Her life was not cut short – it just wasn’t long enough for me.

Not everyone celebrates this or other holidays which surface painful memories, or sometimes lack of them. Those who cannot bear children or have lost children or parents tragically. I need to be more cognizant of this situation, my words and what silence might mean.

I hold those people in the median into the light along with all others who suffer in a river of unrelenting grief.

When I first discovered that my father’s nephew, Robert Vernon Estes, was a prisoner of war in North Korea and died, probably of starvation, in their hands during his captivity, I was determined to discover as much as possible about Robert’s short life – and death. Maybe after all of these years more information would be available, although many of his records burned in the Records Center fire in St Louis in 1973.

I asked Twisted Twigs and Gnarled Branches to find and obtain as many of his military records as possible, from as many sources as possible.

I felt that this is the very least I could do for Robert, known as Bobby in the family, 68 years after he was robbed of life by an inhumane enemy.

Killed in warfare is one thing – but starvation is another. I just don’t understand how humans WITH food could deprive other starving humans – to the point of death. How could they not only observe that horrific suffering, but be responsible for inflicting it willfully upon the miserable and dying who were probably begging for any morsel of food?

That’s not war – it’s torture, pure and simple.

Bobby’s Records

The packet of information arrived in an e-mail from Twisted Twigs while I was speaking at a conference last week. I was almost afraid to open the document for fear of what might be inside, but I had to know.

The first record reveals the date that Bobby’s Missing in Action (MIA) status was communicated to his family. He became MIA and was taken prisoner on November 30^th, 1950 but the family wasn’t notified until January 4^th, 1951 using message “68.”

MyHeritage shows that Bobby was a truck driver.

I was hopeful that the MyHeritage yearbook collection would include Bobby’s photo, but neither Bobby nor his brother Charles is shown in any yearbook from their collection. I called the local Monon library as well, and while there are some years missing in the Monon yearbook collection, there are also years present where Bobby should have been included. Perhaps the Estes boys attended a different school system, or maybe they dropped out early to farm. In any case, sadly, there is no known photo of Bobby.

The closest I can get is a photo of Joseph “Dode” Estes, Bobby’s father, taken during WWI. Bobby probably looked something like Joe.

Bobby was an Army Corporal, promoted during his captivity. His address was given as Route 1 in Monon, Indiana, which indicates that he lived in the country.

Bobby’s mother, Lucille Latta, had remarried to Harry Stockdale in 1941. She died at age 45 of a stroke on August 18, 1952 where her obituary states that Robert is MIA and had been since November 30, 1950.

Lucille was not notified in person that Bobby was missing, but by an impersonal letter, even after a several weeks delay.

My heart aches to think about Lucille opening this letter. Did she know as soon as she saw the envelope in the mailbox, standing on that country road that cold January day?

By the time the military sent the letter, Bobby had been missing for all of December and into January. By the time his mother received it, another week or so.

Did Lucille wonder why she hadn’t received any mail from Bobby, especially given the Christmas holiday? Or was mail so scarce from the front that no mail was normal?

Unbeknownst to the family, Bobby had probably been starving since his capture, was laboring in a mining camp, and may have already died by the time this letter reached his mother.

Did her mother’s sixth sense tell her that her son was in trouble and was being tortured?

All Lucille could do was wait half a world away.

By June, even though Lucille wasn’t aware, the military was requesting dental information which suggests that they had no information that he was alive. They probably had no information at all.

1952

In June of 1952, Lucille was apparently very frustrated with the lack of response from the military and engaged her elected representatives for assistance.

Based on dates, letters seemed to have crossed in the mail.

Lucille just wanted Bobby’s things, whatever remained with the military. He certainly couldn’t use them whether he was missing, dead or in captivity.

At this point, Lucille didn’t know if he had been captured or killed. What she did know was that he didn’t reappear after being considered MIA, so he wasn’t just lost, injured or displaced.

Bobby’s personal items were going to come home. Lucille, as a mother, would have been hopeful that Bobby would return home too, eventually.

The letter to Lucille’s Congressman was written by the Army a few days before the letter to her.

“Period of anxiety.” That’s an incredible understatement.

Finally!

It’s interesting to note that Lucille’s Congressional inquiry did serve to expedite things.

Dirty towels and worn, torn socks. Lucille probably cherished them since they carried part of Bobby.

Apparently, these items had been sitting someplace since April.

The shipment inventory of effects is dated May 16, 1952.

These few items were sent to Bobby’s mother. The bottom items appear to have been sent in July, but the top 2 were sent in a second, later, shipment.

In October of 1952, the Army requested his dental information, again.

Lucille died in August 1952. When I made that discovery, I wondered if the stress of Bobby’s captivity in any way contributed to her early death of a stroke.

Bobby’s Bible and “misc brass” weren’t returned until after Lucille had passed away.

Given that Lucille had died, Harry wrote to the military on her behalf.

Where’s Joseph “Dode” Estes?

Reading this letter from Harry, I realized that no-place in Bobby’s records is his father, Joseph “Dode” Estes either mentioned or communicated with. In fact, it’s Bobby’s step-father who wrote this letter, which leads me to wonder about the absence of Dode.

Where was Bobby’s father and why was he not involved at some level? One would think the military would communicate with a father before a step-father, although Harry married Lucille when Bobby was 10 years old.

The Estes family knew, at least eventually, that Bobby had died. Somehow, someplace, Joe had been told. I noticed in one of my father’s records that the authorities in Lafayette, Indiana in 1938 were asking my father if he had seen Joe. My father stated that he had not seen Joe since the previous Christmas at their mother’s house in Chicago.

This makes me wonder if Joe was in some sort of legal trouble.

Regardless, it tells us that by 1938, Joe was not in the area, assuming my father was truthful, which might not be a valid assumption.

This September 1940 newspaper clipping tells us that Lucille and Joe were getting divorced and had been separated for a decade. In fact, their separation date is in September 1930 and Bobby’s birth date is March 27, 1931, telling us that they separated when Lucille was 3 months pregnant. Joe may never have been involved much in Bobby’s life.

In 1926, Joe had been in trouble for stealing a car, although he wasn’t convicted because the prosecution’s witness failed to appear.

However, in February 1930, Joe was jailed due to intoxication.

The State Penal Farm isn’t the local jail, so this sentence must have been non-trivial, although we know he had been released by late June 1930 when Bobby was conceived.

On September 27, 1930, Joe went to jail once again for stealing chickens.

This date coincides with the separation date in Lucille’s divorce pleading. She had had enough, pregnant or not. Joe was still in jail, unless he accrued “good time,” when Bobby was born.

The daughter of Bobby’s brother, Charles, told me years ago that Charles remembered that, as a child, between the ages of 8-10, a group of men with guns came and took Joe away in a vehicle. If Charles’ memory is accurate, that would put this event between 1935 and 1937. The family was shrouded in secrets, and Charles, born in 1927, didn’t see Joe again until he was an adult and somehow found his father.

Aunt Margaret sent a photo of Joe in San Pedro, California in 1942.

Joe’s location in 1950/51 is a mystery but Aunt Margaret’s letter says that prior to her mother’s death in 1955, she had been sending Joe money to help with his medical bills. He had reportedly been hit by a car in Indiana or near Chicago. My father thought Joe had died, either then or eventually, as did the rest of the family. Joe didn’t pass away until 1988 in Fairfield, Illinois.

Another of Margaret’s letters places Joe in Claiborne County, Tennessee in 1957.

“I also chewed him out in 57 when Ed and I visited Eppersons and Dode was working in the cain patch after telling me he was down and couldn’t get up. We went after him and when Aunt Corny Epperson told me Joe had come there splurging money received from his son’s death in the armed service – yet crying hard luck to me, I flipped my lid and really laid him out flat with a good lecture.”

Unfortunately, there are no records regarding payment of any funds related to Bobby’s death.

1953

Bobby’s Bible wasn’t returned until after Lucille died. $1.47 and a Bible – all the makings of an appropriately sad country song.

The Bible was worn from usage. I hope Bobby found solace and comfort there.

The months must have dragged on for Harry after Lucille’s death and the interminable waiting on word about Bobby’s whereabouts.

Hopefully, Bobby was just a prisoner of war and would be released or exchanged after the war ended. If Harry was a praying man, that would have been his daily prayer.

The Korean conflict ended in 1953. Other men who were missing and actually POWs were released, but still nothing about Bobby.

1954

Then the inevitable…

Word had come that Bobby was dead, not informed by the Koreans diplomatically, but from a friend of another soldier who had direct knowledge of Bobby’s death. The soldier grapevine.

And then this entry in Bobby’s file.

Another antiseptic letter. You’d think a personal visit would have been much more respectful to deliver this type of devastating news.

Word came, albeit through the grapevine, that Bobby had died of dysentery and pneumonia. I have to wonder if this was secondary to starvation, or his body was unable to heal due to lack of food. We know that other men died of starvation in these camps days on either side of Bobby’s death.

Clearly, the North Koreans were not interested in the health and welfare of their captives – or even basic human decency.

The money that Joe was spending that he received from Bobby’s death was likely Bobby’s pay for the time that he was captured in November 1950 until he was declared dead in January 1954. Bobby’s pay would have been $83.20 per month, plus $8 for foreign duty pay as a private, and slightly more as a corporal. That promotion was actually posthumous.

Three years and a couple months pay was certainly a windfall to Bobby’s father, equivalent to about $30,500 today. One family member said Joe purchased a restaurant in Tazewell, Tennessee, but I found no documentation of that rumor.

This card in Bobby’s file documents the source of the determination that he had died.

“The Letter,” direct, to the point, short and final.

Pneumonia – not starvation directly – although other men did starve at this camp during this time.

I wonder if the family actually accepted this letter as final. If one wanted to continue to hope, there is enough ambiguity with the notification being a friend of a friend that one could possibly refuse to abandon hope. Lucille was gone, Harry as a step-parent might have been more accepting, but I wonder about Bobby’s brother, Charles.

An identical letter was sent to Charles, Bobby’s brother, but nothing was sent to Bobby’s father. The military may have had no information about Joe. Joe was known to drink and was reported to have been hit by a car, incurring amnesia. Joe could also have been in jail someplace. The Estes men of Joe’s generation were not known for their good behavior.

1956

January 1956 brought this letter.

Nonrecoverable.

Such a final verdict.

Bobby was held in North Korea, not in the DMZ. The Koreans never tracked their prisoners, never informed anyone of their capture, and never kept records of their location, treatment, deaths or burials. Bobby may be in a mass grave someplace with the other men that died each day.

In short, the Koreans never had any intention of these men surviving to release.

Bobby’s remains would never leave Korean soil. He is literally buried at the feet of his tortuous captors.

The only saving grace is that Lucille had joined Bobby and she already knew. She no longer cared about bodies.

Mining Camps

I narrowed the possible POW camps based on the description of the camp where Bobby was held as a mining camp which helped immensely. I found the following candidates.

• Pukchin Mining Camp – between Kunu-ri and Pyoktong – (aka. Death Valley Camp).
• Suan Mining Camp – P’yong-yang
• Koksan Mining Camp

Based on the location, near Kunu-ri where Bobby was captured, he was most likely at the Pukchin Camp, also known as the Death Valley Camp.

I wish Bobby’s records had said specifically where he was held and died. Surely Eugene Inman, the soldier who provided the death information, knew.

Eugene provided the following description of the Death Valley Camp in the book, American POWs in Korea, Sixteen Personal Accounts.

Eugene Inman, POW

Eugene Inman was the soldier and fellow POW who informed the military that Bobby had died. Eugene and Bobby were in the same unit when they were captured.

Eugene Inman is honored as a veteran and former Korean POW on this page. I want to thank Mr. Inman, now deceased, for his sacrifices and for telling the story of his capture and subsequent POW experience – which is also Bobby’s story.

I am quoting the full portions of Eugene’s biography relevant to Bobby, below, because Bobby can’t tell his own story:

I served with the Army’s 2nd Infantry Division, 9th Infantry Ret. I saw action in various parts of Korea from the Naktong River Line in last of July-Aug. 1950 as a member of an RCT plugging holes here and there under highly stressed and traumatic scenes until Chongchon River Line in November 1950.

The early activities in July were struggles to beat back probing and breakthrough efforts of the Koreans. Then my capture running the gauntlet at the pass in the Kunu-ri-Sunchon roadblock of the Kuni-ri area November 30, 1950, when the Chinese entered the conflict. Years of torment and abuse followed, thinking only of survival. Finally my freedom when I was repatriated at “Big Switch,” crossing “Freedom Bridge” Aug. 30, 1953.

The last week or so before capture was very difficult and dangerous. The extreme cold and confusion of the ambushes at roadblocks had cut us off from our own lines. At the time of capture we were separated from the main company, and my outfit was cut off by the enemy forces. Resultant conditions forced our surrender by ones, twos and small handfuls. Broken up into small groups we were to seek our own way out. We were out of ammunition and supplies, and the way to our lines was totally blocked. As the battle of Kunu-ri receded, there were many wounded and dead lying on all sides of us on the hillsides, on the road and in the ditches. The pass was blocked with all kinds of equipment, a mass of destroyed junk.

We were gathered up and placed into a holding area of animal sheds and vacant huts without any protection from the cold. The chill factor drove the cold deep into our bodies to the point that it was debilitating pain and restricted movement, thinking and reaction. The weather was at its worst, for the area was mountainous and it was bitter cold. The temperature was well below zero, in the 30- below-or-more area.

We lost all our warm clothing we had to the enemy who took off of us whatever they wanted. I was left with only light clothing, a field jacket being the heaviest article with a fatigue cap and a tattered scarf. I used the scarf, which was very long, to wrap around my face and neck covering all the exposed area I could. My breath caused a layer of ice to form from my jaw down to my waist. It acted somewhat as an insulator in the area it formed. There was no real protection from the extreme cold, even the equipment, rifles, machine guns, trucks, jeeps and most things with oil turned to glue in the punishing cold refusing to function.

We were forced to march under these frightening conditions for 15 or so days from sundown to sunup. We walked without food, and as we passed civilians they would stone us. Many of the stones found their mark and caused serious injuries. The police and home guard were especially brutal. The wounded and the exhausted among us began to suffer. It was unbelievable. If they fell out and could not go on they were indiscriminately shot, bayoneted, or clubbed to death. During the march we truly had no shelter from the elements, and food, as such was provided, only on irregular intervals of days. It consisted of cracked corn and sometimes was mixed with soybeans. This kind of food did two things to me on each intake; (1) a case of dysentery, fever, bowel discharge of mucus and blood. I was always thirsty, that never really stopped, (2) abdominal cramps and rectal pain. No time of the day or night freed one from the constant urge to purge oneself.

In what I believe was the month December in 1950 we arrived in a deserted mining town in the Pukchin area. The place was called “Death Valley.” We faced the inclement weather, lack of shelter, food, death, and the attempts to indoctrinate us, with “Marxism” given in small groups. It was here that various conditions of fear, beatings and death of many from lack of proper food, potable water and bowel discharge of mucus and blood increased. It took a large toll in lives.

The huts and animal shelters were made from mud, stones and thatched roofs. The room was made of dried mud and the floors were large flat rocks and mud. The rooms were extremely small and we were packed into them in such a manner as to have no room to rest. It seemed that every time a guard wanted to express his anger at the world in general and me in particular he would strike, shove or kick me in the same areas and I never seemed to completely heal. The favorite areas for the guards on the march and/or in the camps seemed to be the arms, shoulders, leg joints and back area.

These areas always seemed to be re-injured by the repeated hits and falls when carrying heavy wood products in the slippery ice and snow.

We left the “Valley” and marched to Camp Five at Pyoktong, arriving Dec 25,1950. I stayed there until Aug 12, 1952. The cold in the marches and food of poorest quality of whole kernel corn, sometimes mixed with soybeans, given every 24 to 72 hours didn’t help matters either. There was little change in food to corn and millet with a little rice on special days. But still men died of starvation.

Then the camp authorities added bean curd and seaweed, which helped those not too weak to make a recovery. Malnutrition was very ghastly in the period from Jan. 1951 to August 1952. I experienced profound changes in the condition of my body. My ankles and legs swelled, and the pain in time became acute. This “bone ache” pain was not in the swelling but seemed to center in the very bones that no rubbing or any other efforts could relieve.

This condition never seemed to let up. It acted up through the day and at night followed up by leg cramps. Then the work details began with long trips to carry wood back on my person over ice and snow causing many slips and falls causing much pain to my extremities. The pain drove me with the insanity of it, to argue and/or resist the camp authorities. It was at this time a guard knocked out some of my teeth when I failed to satisfy him. I was made to stand at the proper figure of attention in the cold and snow, without shoes until the guard was satisfied that I learned to be humble and obedient after knocking me around.

I could barely read these words, dreading each next one, because I knew that Bobby’s experience was even worse. He died. It would have been better, more humane, had Bobby been killed outright.

The Korean War Legacy Foundation provides additional information on the Korean War, including interviews with former POWs, here. I will tell you that I cannot watch these at this point. If any of you watch the videos, please tell me if by some remote possibility, Bobby is mentioned, which video, and where.

Honoring Corporal Robert Vernon Estes

The American Battle Monuments Commission maintains a page honoring each missing soldier in addition to operating and maintaining military cemeteries.

Bobby’s page lists his service and military awards. I wonder if anyone in the family ever received those.

Family can print Memorial Certificates.

Photo of Bobby’s name, along with others in “Court 4” of the missing.

I’m glad his service to his country is memorialized.

Epilogue

I believe I have all of Bobby’s extant records from the military now. Anything else will have to be accomplished using DNA on recovered remains, if we would be that fortunate.

More than 7,800 men were lost who remain unrecovered in North Korea. Eugene’s story explains why, given the conditions. Many POWs were probably not buried in “graves,” per se, but along roads and wherever was expeditious at the time to dispose of a body.

I’m still hopeful, in spite of seemingly insurmountable odds, that Bobby’s remains will be found, identified and brought home. He did reportedly die in a “camp,” although North Korea never acknowledged that soldiers were held at Pukchin, shown below. In an effort to conceal the site, bodies were removed from the camp known as “Death Valley” and were reburied or sealed up in nearly abandoned mine shafts.

Bobby’s remains, such as they are, are probably someplace in this photo in North Korea, far, far from home.

Pukchin is located about 40 mountainous miles south of the North Korean border with China as the crow flies, in an inhospitable region. Access is only via roads following rivers and valleys.

I don’t carry Bobby’s mitochondrial DNA, typically used to identify the remains of soldiers, but I assuredly would match him autosomally if enough DNA could be recovered for that type of comparison.

I stand ready to claim Bobby, for whom I was named after the family was notified of his death.

Ready to welcome Bobby home and watch his flag covered coffin roll off of the airplane into a waiting Honor Guard.

Ready to thank Bobby for his service and ultimate sacrifice, as tardy and insignificant as that might be.

Ready to proudly stand at his grave site as Taps is played and Bobby is truly laid to rest, a hero, on American soil.

I will remain ready all the days of my life.

I still pray for the return of Corporal Robert Vernon Estes.

Hiram was born in the Netherlands in 1854.

His first article, Hiram Bauke Ferverda (1854-1925), Part 1: Baker’s Apprentice chronicled his life in the Netherlands.

In 1868, at age 13, Bauke immigrated to the US with his family. His life after immigration, as a farmer in Elkhart and Kosciusko Counties in Indiana, was documented in Hiram Bauke Ferverda (1854-1925), Part 2: American Farmer.

Part 3 begins with Hiram’s move to town and new career, beginning at age 54, and takes several entirely unexpected turns. You might want to make a cup of tea, because this one is both fascinating and long. It’s amazing what you can find in local newspapers that allows us to time travel and visit our ancestors in the time and place where they lived.

I must say that I had NO IDEA of most of the events that both influenced and changed Hiram’s life before I mined the newspaper articles. This man was alive 100 years ago, so I thought I knew about him through my family, but I didn’t. I would never have expected many of these discoveries because of his Brethren religion, but here they are, in black and white. A complete dichotomy.

I feel like I actually know Hiram today – and I thought I knew him before but all I had was a sketchy outline, a couple fuzzy stories and a few paragraphs in a book.

• Hiram both upheld the law and broke the law.
• Hiram eschewed violence but was a lawman.
• Hiram was a pacifist, yet 4 of his sons proudly served their country.

This man was a study in opposites and perhaps in conflict as well.

Come along on Hiram’s amazing “second act” journey!

The Move to Leesburg, Indiana

In 1908, Hiram’s life took a dramatic change – and not one you’d expect for a farmer and certainly not for a farmer past the half century mark.

Hiram moved to town. Not a big town, but Leesburg with about 800 people, the closest town to his farm – more like a village. Hiram gave up farming, with his son moving to his farm and taking over day to day operations.

According to the Ferverda booklet written in 1978, Hiram supervised the laying of the brick streets in Leesburg which vehicles still drive on every day. I visited Leesburg in May of 2019 and found those same brick streets which remain beautiful, a tribute to his work more than 100 years ago.

Prairie Street in Leesburg, Indiana

Hiram became a director of the Peoples State Bank in 1908 and later Vice-President. Yep, he became a banker. Farmer to banker – now THAT’S a career change!

Son Donald Ferverda became Cashier a decade later, after his high school graduation, and eventually Director before his untimely death. In later years, another son, Ray Ferverda, became a Director and Vice-President as well.

It’s unclear where the actual bank property was located, although it may have been where the Freedom Express office building is found today.

Hiram’s Property

Hiram owned the entire section between Main on the west, Church on the south, the right side of this graphic and the alley between Church and Prairie on the north.

Today, that’s the gas pump area of the Freedom Express convenience store and gas station – along with the lots to the right along Church Street.

Note that in this aerial, you can still see the red bricks on Prairie Street. It’s possible that Hiram owned the area noted with the Freedom Express too. The deeds are not clear.

The Kosciusko County Surveyor’s office was extremely gracious, providing me with the 1938 flyover image of these properties.

It’s possible but uncertain if Hiram also owned the top portion of the lot, now 201, then referred to as 117, that includes the Freedom Express building itself today.

These images are grainy and difficult to see, but we can discern structures.

The deed for this property is confusing. Between the Auditor’s office, the Recorder’s office and the Surveyor, I think we have it straight.

The problem begins with the fact that the lot numbers given in the deed are not the same as the lot numbers today. To help map this, a rod equals 16.5 feet.

Lot 117 was originally what is showing today as both 201 and 205, which provides us with a place of beginning and is shown on their GIS system below.

However, based on the deed metes and bounds, lot 117 does NOT appear to encompass both 201 and 205, only 201. There was some confusion about this when I was in the Recorder and Auditor’s offices too. Based on the metes and bounds, it appears that lot 117 incorporated 201 and lot 116 incorporated 211 and possibly 209/207 as well. Perhaps lot numbers has not been assigned to 205, 305, 208 and 206, the properties it appears that Hiram owned.

201 and 205 are addresses today, on Main. 305 is on Hickory. 206 and 208 are on Church and 207, 209 and 211 are on Prairie.

Based on the metes and bounds, it appears that Hiram owned the red area, 205 below, and not 201.

One of the offices told me that lot 201 or 205 had been the Farmer’s State Bank before it was purchased for a gas station and convenience store. This building, below, on lot 201 would be the best candidate.

However, the most recent Farmer’s State Bank building was directly across Main Street from this location, so the person may have been recalling that.

In this 1938 flyover, we can see that there are two buildings on this group of lots owned by Hiram. One on the main property, at the left, and one on Hickory at the alley, which probably wasn’t Hiram’s home based on other evidence. I wish these were clearer, but it’s great to have anything from 1938. Eva would still have been living then, probably in this house. Maybe she was inside when the picture was taken!

Perhaps Hiram did not actually own the bank itself which could have been on lot 201, or even downtown. My brother John told me that Hiram and Eva lived “on the main road” which would reflect a house on the corner of Church and Main. In any event, today, I pumped gas where their house once stood – where my mother went to play as a child.

This photo is taken from across Main Street, looking at lot 205. The convenience store part of the building, and the small office building facing Prairie behind the convenience store sits on lot 201 today.

Hiram and Eva’s home would have been right about where that canopy shields people who pump gas today. I didn’t realize that when I was gassing up on “their” land.

Looking down Church Street from the East end of Hiram’s property back towards Main, we can see that only modern buildings exist today.

No houses were present in 1938 except on 205, which had to be Hiram’s house.

Let’s take a look at Hiram’s life through the newspapers.

1908

January 11, 1908 – Warsaw Daily Times – Margaret Ferverda, who has been quite sick, is improving.

Margaret turned 6 on January 12^th.

April 2, 1908 – The Northern Indianian

Hiram’s father, Bauke, known as Baker in the US, is Grandpa Ferverda whose wife had died in 1906.

Hiram Becomes a Banker

April 17, 1908 – Warsaw Daily Time

I can’t even begin to imagine what possessed Hiram to open a bank! It looks like the new bank was in the same building as an existing bank with the same people involved, given that Joel Hall is president of the new bank.

Brethren typically wanted nothing to do with government, nothing to do with “swearing oaths” or signing documents. Many deeds were never registered nor were licenses obtained for marriages in Brethren families. Even for a progressive Brethren, owning a bank was a huge step. Had I not known better, I would immediately eliminate the Brethren religion for any person owning a bank, being involved with government, law enforcement or warfare of any kind. This was very out of character and unexpected.

Hiram would die before the economic crash of 1929, and maybe that’s a good thing, because that might just have killed him. Banks didn’t fare well although this one survived.

And a Politician

June 2, 1908 – Warsaw Daily Times – Republican County Convention – Representatives if Party Assemble in Auditorium at Winona Lake and Choose County Ticket – (many names including) Plain Township – first precinct – Hiram Ferverda

Winona Lake is threaded throughout the news. Not only was it a recreational area, but many conferences were held there, making it a destination area throughout Indiana. Apparently, the Winona Lake region, located nearby, had facilities to handle, and house, crowds.

June 11, 1908 – Northern Indianian – Republican Convention held at Plymouth Indiana for congressional nominee. Speeches were given and the seat is contested. The convention is being held in the open air on the lawn of the old Henry C. Thayer property. Those Kosciuskoans who went to the Plymouth on the Pennsylvania train leaving this city at 8:20 a include…Hiram Ferverda.

Death is Ever Present

Especially in large families, death is an ever-present fact of life. Penicillin wasn’t discovered until 1928. People died then of infections and diseases that would be easily curable today.

October 22, 1908 – Hiram’s sister, Melvinda, died on October 12, 1899, leaving husband James Gibson and daughters, Minnie, Gertrude and Alma. James Gibson died on May 30, 1907, and daughter Alma died on September 10, 1908 of tetanus.

Hiram’s brother, William, became the guardian of both surviving daughters, replacing Peter Bucher, with Hiram posting his performance bond in the amount of $2000. Hiram signed this bond, providing us with his only actual signature.

I love Hiram’s signature, below that of his brother, William. He actually signed in two different places on that document

Nov. 12, 1908 – Warsaw Daily Union. Marriage license issued to Rolland Z. Robison and Chloe Ferverda, both of Leesburg.

Rolland, known as Rollie, and Chloe would have an unnamed stillborn son in 1911, then Robert Robinson, Earl Robinson and Charlotte Robinson.

This photo, brought to the 2010 reunion shows Eva, Chloe, Hiram, Margaret, Bob (Robert) and Earl.

Robert was born in 1913 and Earl in November 1916, so I’d guess this was taken about 1917 or perhaps 1918. Hiram would have been about 64.

Dec. 24, 1908 – Northern Indianian – H. B. Ferverda allowed $48.24 for the gravel road in Plain Twp.

1909

February 3, 1910 – Northern Indianian – Hiram B. Ferverda of Leesburg was in the city (Warsaw) Thursday.

I visited the courthouse in Warsaw in May of 2019, knowing that Hiram would have been in this building many times, attending to business.

February 5, 1909 – Warsaw Daily Times – Samuel Ulery, George W. Cummings, Hiram Ferverda and Charles Matthews, of Salem and vicinity will all move to Leesburg.

Samuel Ulery was related to Hiram’s wife, Eva Miller, in multiple ways.

Hiram opened the bank in 1908 and moved to Leesburg a year later in 1909, probably to be closer to business affairs. As reported on the Farmers State Bank web page, local people and farmers had confidence in people they knew. I do wonder why these several families moved to Leesburg at the same time. Leesburg was then and still is small, the downtown extending all of a block.

I love the bricked-in windows that give us a hint of what these building used to look like.

These old buildings speak of times that were. This entire business district is all of one block long.

I’d like to know what these buildings where when Hiram lived in Leesburg.

At the top of this building, you can see that it was built in 1907, so it was brand-spanking new when Hiram lived here.

One of these buildings was assuredly the Town Hall where Hiram would conduct many of his duties.

It seems that Sundays were church and then social days.

February 11, 1909 – Warsaw Daily Union – Hiram Ferverda, wife and little daughter Margaret were Sunday guests of Erve Ferverda.

Moved to Leesburg

March 10, 1909 – Warsaw Daily Union – Hiram Ferverda moved to Leesburg Wednesday and Thursday Erve Ferverda moved on the home place.

On March 19, 1909, Hiram bought the lots in Leesburg.

This seal in the old courthouse was probably used on many of Hiram’s documents, including his deeds.

May 6, 1909 – Commissioners allowances to John Pound to view Ferverda road – $4.

This is an interesting entry, because no place else have I found mention of Ferverda Road.

1910 

On the 1910 census, Hiram and Eva lived in Plain Twp., west of Big 4 which was the description for all of Leesburg. The railroad tracks ran just east of town, along “Old 15.”

January 27, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Times – Hiram B. Ferverda of Leesburg was in the city (Warsaw) Thursday.

Feb. 3, 1910 – Northern Indianian – Hiram B. Ferverda of Leesburg was in this city (Warsaw) Thursday.

The Paternity Suit

Feb 9, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Union – This would be Ray, not Roy. There was no Roy Ferverda that I’m aware of. Maybe Ray was pleased to be misidentified, all things considered.

This is a very suggestive entry in the paper which makes me suspect paternity. Rape would not have been a civil suit, although this does not say specifically.

The old courthouse doors still remain. Hiram surely accompanied his son to court.

And climbed the stairs to the second floor.

On February 12^th, the following:

Confirming that the name is Ray, not Roy.

Sept 7, 1910 – State against Ferverda set for trial Sept. 23^rd.

Aha, indeed, it was paternity! This means that there are potentially additional DNA relatives out there!

September 19, 1910:

Typically, at that time, people in this situation married. I wonder why Ray and Lucretia chose not to. Or maybe, just one chose not to.

The 1910 census shows a Lucretia Brown, of the right age and location, but with no child.

Did the child die? I didn’t find either a birth or death record. Perhaps placed for adoption? Being raised by someone else?

Lucretia married George Eldridge in 1914 and was living in Wabash in the 1920 census with two children, ages 3 and 4, but no child that would have been 10 or over. I wonder if an eventual DNA match will provide the answer.

The Great Bluegill Caper

I tried not to laugh at this, but especially given the earlier political commentary about the unfair fish laws – I just couldn’t help myself.

March 22, 1910:

This incident was reported by the Warsaw Daily Union using exactly the same words, but with much larger headlines

Bluegills huh? I’m thinking there is more to this story that we will never know.

Cheryl told me that the edge of Hiram’s farm touched Lake Tippecanoe because Don or Roscoe fell through the ice at one point.

March 21, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Time

March 24, 1910 – Warsaw Union – It cost Hiram Ferverda $75 for taking 5 bluegills from Tippecanoe lake with a net. He entered a plea of guilty to the charge against him.

Also reported in the Northern Indianian, of course. This would have been great gossip!

I can just see Hiram’s teeth clenching!

Most expensive fish per ounce EVER.

Hiram would have passed these old cupboards in the Warsaw courthouse on his way to answer for his fish crimes. Maybe the evidence was even held here!

March 31, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Times – Rollin Robinson and wife spent Easter with the latter’s parents, Hiram Ferverda and wife of Leesburg.

July 7, 1910 – Fort Wayne Journal Gazette via a “special correspondent.”

Mr. and Mrs. Hiram Ferverda spent the day with Mr. and Mrs. John Ulery of Nappanee who are at their cottage at Government point, at Tippecanoe Lake.

They may have had no idea they are related to the Ulery family through the Millers, because they are also related to the Ullery family through Eva’s mother’s first husband’s family. They are also related to the Ullery family because Eva’s half-sibling, Emanual Whitehead married Elizabeth Ulery and her half sister, Mary Jane Whitehead married John D. Ulery. Yes this is a family vine!

July 12, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Union – Mr. and Mrs. Hiram Ferverda attended church at Salem, Sunday and took dinner with their daughter, Mrs. Louis Hartman and family.

Sister-In-Law Dies

July 19, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Union – Hiram Ferverda received a message Sunday morning stating that his sister-in-law, Mrs. Fannie Ferverda died at her home near Nappanee Saturday evening.

This would have been his brother, William’s, wife.

While Hiram and Eva appeared to be quite social, there are surprisingly few mentions of Hiram’s brother and family. I suspect that part of this may be due to the fact that William’s side of the family appear to have remained more conservative in the traditional Brethren ways, while Hiram became increasingly progressive throughout his life. Distance was probably also a factor, although they clearly do keep in touch.

August 10, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Union – Boyd Whitehead of Goshen is visiting Hiram Ferverda and family.

Off to Kansas

August 18, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Union – Hiram Ferverda, Frank Bortz, Charles Dye and Henry Kinsey started on a 10-days pleasure trip for various points in Kansas Tuesday morning.

Then, later in the same article about Leesburg residents:

Mr. and Mrs. Hiram Ferverda were Warsaw visitors Monday.

August 25, 1910: Frank Borts II, E. Kinsey, Hiram Ferverda and Charles Dye arrived home Monday afternoon after a 10 day pleasure trip through Kansas and Colorado.

So, what happened to Illinois and Missouri??  What did 4 men do? I wish they had told more of the story!

Sept 23, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Times – Ulery Family Reunion – Descendants of Daniel Ulery Held Enjoyable Meeting at the Home of John D. Ulery – The descendants of the Daniel Ulery family met at the home of John D. Ulery at Government Point on Tippecanoe Lake Thursdays. Those present were: (long list including) Hiram Ferverda and wife of Leesburg.

I notice that Emanual Whitehead was also present. I thought perhaps that this would lend itself to breaking down brick walls, but one Daniel Ulrich was born in 1811 in PA and died in 1834 in Elkhart County, His father was Jacob Ulrich who died young, but his wife Susan Leer remarried and died in Elkhart County. Jacob’s father was Daniel Ulrich (1756-1813) and Susannah Miller (1759-1831) who was the daughter of Philip Jacob Miller and wife Magdalena, ancestors of Hiram’s wife, Eva Miller, which may be the family connection.

This Emanual Whitehead was Eva’s half brother who married an Ulery, and John D. Ulery was married to Eva’s half-sister. This is enough to cause any genealogist to bang their head against the wall.

September 23, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Union – Mr. Violette of Goshen visited with Hiram Ferverda Wednesday.

Sept. 29, 1910 – Northern Indianian

Nov. 3, 1910 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mr. and Mrs. Hiram Ferverda spent Sunday with Mr. and Mrs. R. Robinsin (sic) east of Oswego.

Mrs. R. Robinson (actually Robison) was Hiram’s daughter, Chloe.

1911

Feb. 2, 1911 – Warsaw Union – Rolly Robinson and wife spent Sunday with the latter’s parents, Hiram Ferverda and wife, of Leesburg.

Feb. 5, 1911 – Warsaw Daily Union – Andy Vanderford of Whitley County, a former deputy fish and game cop has filed with the auditor of Kosciusko county a bill for $134 for seizing and destroying nets, spears, etc. taken from alleged illegal fishermen during the past 7 years. Cases mentioned include…Hiram Ferverda. Amounts range from 1-10 dollars, in the majority of instances $5.

Hiram must have groaned and rolled his eyes!

Here it is AGAIN!

It. Won’t. Die.

Or maybe by this time it was a big family joke. “Hey Dad, want to go fishing for some bluegills?” Maybe they gave him “nets” for his birthday after his were confiscated.

Mr. and Mrs. John Ferverda of Silver Lake visited with Hiram Ferverda and family over Sunday. John is my grandfather, but my mother and uncle weren’t yet born.

It wasn’t far from Leesburg to Silver Lake – about 18 miles. I wonder if the families had automobiles by then. I’m guessing so.

Attendance Award

May 8, 1911 – Warsaw Daily Union

I think this was the predecessor of “walked uphill, in the snow, both ways” – except it was true. What an amazing record. School was very important to the Ferverda family – which isn’t surprising given that Hiram’s father, Bauke, was a teacher in the Netherlands.

Hiram Becomes a Marshall

October 19, 1911 – Northern Indianian

This is the first mention of Hiram being a Marshall which is extremely unusual for a Brethren man. Brethren eschew public office and generally refuse to fight in wars or participate in any other type of activity which conflicts with their pacifist doctrine. Yet, Hiram continued to be Brethren. This must have caused some very interesting conversations!

1912

March 14, 1912 – Northern Indianian – Hiram B. Ferverda of Leesburg, visited n Warsaw on Tuesday.

The courthouse in Warsaw is beautiful from all sides.

March 16, 1912 – Warsaw Daily Times – Hiram B. Ferverda of Leesburg transacted business in Warsaw on Saturday.

March 21, 1912 – Northern Indianian – Hiram B. Ferverda of Leesburg transacted business in Warsaw on Saturday.

I can’t help but wonder what kind of business he was transacting or was this just the stock commentary. He could have been shopping.

May 25, 1912 – Warsaw Daily Times – Hiram B. Ferverda of Leesburg transacted business here (Warsaw) on Saturday.

May 30, 1912 – Northern Indianian – Hiram B. Ferverda of Leesburg transacted business here (Warsaw) on Saturday.

Leesburg to Warsaw was 12 miles and Hiram is going to Warsaw on Saturdays for something, but what, and why Saturday?

Progressive Republicans

June 6, 1912 – Northern Indianian – County Convention Personnel, Second Precinct, H. B. Ferverda

July 26, 1912 – Warsaw Daily Times – The Progressive Republicans of Kosciusko formed a county organization on Thursday afternoon in city hall in Warsaw. Notices were sent to the men who were delegates at the last district convention in Warsaw and asked each to bring friends. When called to order, nearly 60 were present. At the outset, Mr. Vail explained the purpose of the meeting which he said, was to form an organization which could legally send delegates to the state and district conventions of the progressive party for the purpose of naming national delegates to nominate Theodore Roosevelt or some other progressive and for the purpose of selecting progressive national electors. The purpose is to give the voters a chance to express their actual sentiments at the polls in November by having a progressive ticket in the field. After that, various men expressed their opinions, including Hiram Ferverda from Plain Township.

I wish they had recorded the various opinions expressed.

Now, Hiram, a Brethren who is supposed to avoid politics is a “Progressive Republican,” and active to boot!

The Progressive Party was a third party in the US formed in 1912 by former President Theodore Roosevelt after he lost the presidential nomination of the Republican Party to his former protégé, incumbent President William Howard Taft. This party was considered to be center-left and was dissolved in 1918, but in 1912, it was quite the sensation.

Proposals on the platform included restrictions on campaign finance contributions, a reduction of the tariff and the establishment of a social insurance system, an eight-hour workday and women’s suffrage.

In 1916, the conventions of both the Republican and Progressive Republican parties were held in conjunction with each other, with Roosevelt being the nominee of both. He refused the Progressive nomination, accepting the Republican nomination, after which the Progressive Party collapsed.

August 1, 1912 – Northern Indianian – Progressive Republicans Meet in City Hall at Warsaw, Form an Organization, Differ Only On National Issue, No Third County Ticket to be Placed in Field, Nor is Third State Ticket Favored

Hiram B. Ferverda was present as a delegate.

October 11, 1912 – Mr. and Mrs. John Ferverda of Silver Lake are here for a two weeks visit with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. H.B. Ferverda.

Wow, that’s a long visit.

1913

January 3, 1913 – Warsaw Daily Times – Commissioners allowed Hiram B. Ferverda 56.70 for road repair.

Horseshoes Anyone?

May 17, 1913 – Warsaw Daily Union – An old fashioned game of horseshoe has opened up in town. Games are going all of the time. Hiram Ferverda is champion pitcher.

A horseshoe champion – who knew! I wish there had been pictures. In 1913, Hiram would have been 59 years old.

1914

January 8, 1914 – Warsaw Daily Union – H. B. Ferverda allowed 109.20 for gravel road repair.

January 15, 1914 –- Northern Indianian – H. B. Ferverda allowed 109.20 for gravel road repairs.

January 29, 1914 – Northern Indianian – Plain Township trustee report shows the following disbursements…Hiram Ferverda, labor, $24.

April 2, 1914 – Warsaw Union – H. Ferverda and family were the guests of Bert Frederickson and family on Sunday.

May 6, 1914 – Warsaw Daily Union – Rolin Robison and family and Hiram Ferverda and family were the guests of the latter’s brother, William Ferverda at Nappanee, Sunday.

June 11, 1914 – Northern Indianian – Allowed H. B. Ferverda $5.00 for gravel road repair.

August 13, 1914 – Warsaw Union – the Progressives of Plain Township met Wednesday and elected the following township ticket: Trustee – Hiram Ferverda.

August 21, 1914 – The town council has bucked up against a proposition that is causing the members much worry. At the meeting last week a sidewalk was ordered along the east side of Main Street at the west end of H.B. Ferverda’s property and when Mr. Ferverda went to stretch the line for his walk it was discovered the Winona Interurban station freight house watercloset are all out about 4 feet past the walk line. What action the council will take in the matter is being watched with much interest.

Apparently Hiram had public toilets on the west side of his property. Apparently the Winona Interurban lines ran along what is now State Road 15 and the offices, probably pictured here, sat on the west side of Hiram’s land. The automobiles look like 1909 Model Ts, although I’m clearly no expert.

The Winona Interurban didn’t last long, being placed into receivership in 1916, so this photo of the “freight house” at Leesburg must have been taken about the time Hiram lived there.

Nov. 12, 1914 – Northern Indianian – Allowed H. B. Ferverda 140.75 for highway repair.

1915

January 28, 1915 – H. B. Ferverda allowed $23.27 for labor for roads.

March 18, 1915 – Warsaw Union – Adopts City Airs – People who visit Leesburg this summer must run their cars up to the curb in an angling position according to instructions issued to Town Marshall, Ferverda.

Angle parking is still in effect in front of the heritage “business district” buildings. Who knew this was a “city air.”

March 31, 1915 – Warsaw Daily Times – Hiram Ferverda Jr. had the misfortune to badly bruise his finger while playing with a corn sheller.

This would be Hiram’s grandson through his son Irvin and wife Jesse Hartman. Young Hiram would have been about 3.

April 8, 1915 – Northern Indianian – H. B. Ferverda and S. V. Robison and their families visited Rollin Robinson and family Sunday.

May 6, 1915 – H. B. Ferverda and S. V. Robison and their families visited Rollin Robinson and family Sunday.

May 6, 1915 – Warsaw Union – Allowed H. B Ferverda asst road supt. $5.64.

Hiram is noted as the Assistant Road Superintendent.

Marshall Drama

June 7, 1915 – Warsaw Union – Leesburg Marshall Resigns – H. B. Ferverda, marshal of Leesburg, has resigned because the office made too many enemies. He states that many people refuse to speak to him because he did his duty.

Dec. 23, 1915 – Warsaw Union

Hiram was Marshall for 4 years and a few months.

1916

January 7, 1916 –- Warsaw Union – H. B. Ferverda allowed 186.20 for gravel road repair.

Jan 20, 1916 – Warsaw Union

I find this amusing because Brethren are supposed to avoid physical conflict, which is why they do not participate in wars and historically, would not even defend themselves or their families from frontier attacks. But here Hiram is dealing with a man that “showed fight.”

I wonder if the tramp was sent alone or accompanied.

More Drama – Throws Down Star

I can sense his frustration, even today, 103 years removed.

Jan. 21, 1916 – Warsaw Daily Times – H. B. Ferverda, assnt road supt – allowed $5.64.

No Marshall, By Heck

Not only was this getting juicy, the word was also spreading!

January 24, 1916 – Rochester Sentinel (Fulton Co., Indiana)

January 29, 1916 – Warsaw Union – H. B. Ferverda allowed $7.50 labor on roads

Feb. 1, 1916 – Warsaw Daily Times – Calvin Baugher is serving as town marshal of Leesburg. Baugher was chosen by the town board following a meeting on considerable friction. H. B. Ferverda previously held the position.

Feb. 3, 1916 – Warsaw Daily Times – Calvin Baugher has been appointed town marshal by the town council to fill the vacancy made by the resignation of H.B. Ferverda who quit when someone stated at a board meeting that the town did not need a marshal. The job pays $75 per year and the holder is supposed to serve as street commissioner peace officer and several other jobs.

Feb. 5, 1916 – Rochester Sentinel

“Not to pump the water.” That’s just about the only thing the Marshall doesn’t do.

Each of these articles tells the story in a slightly different way, and includes different tidbits of information.

February 10, 1916

I’m sure that Hiram was just glad to have this entire chapter closed. It sounds miserable and it had to affect his banking business.

The rest of 1916 seemed to be settling down a bit. Maybe Hiram found peace working on the roads.

Feb. 10, 1916 – Northern Indianian – H. B. Ferverda allowed $7.50 for labor on roads.

May 3, 1916 – Kosciusko Union – H. B. Ferverda allowed $20 for repair of gravel road.

Ira Ferverda Saves General Pershing’s Life

May 4, 1916 – Northern Indianian

Hiram must have been very, very proud of his son.

This from the Indianapolis News on May 10th:

This event didn’t happen in 1916, but during the Mexican American War between 1901-1904.

1916 wasn’t going to stay calm for long.

But Then There was that Cow Incident…

May 21, 1916 – Warsaw Union – An affidavit was filed Saturday in the court of Squire Garty by Ola A. Harris against H. B. Ferverda, retired farmer, bank director and business man of Leesburg, charging him with injury and cruelty to animals. Saturday morning when Ferverda and F.J. Filbert of the Leesburg Journal and their wives were driving to this city, they approached the Ola Harris farm two miles west of town.  A son of Mr. Harris was herding several cattle which were browsing along the highway. The auto driver, Mr. Ferverda, slowed up and endeavored to get around the cattle, but one Holstein heifer, valued at $100 by Mr. Harris, jumped into the machine and from the contact with the bumper its hind leg was broken, while a lamp on the auto was damaged. Harris demanded $100 of Ferverda in return for the cow, which had to be killed, but the Leesburg gentleman refused any settlement on the ground that he was in no wise to blame. Ferverda and his party drove on to Columbia City after giving Harris their names and addresses and upon reaching town, Ferverda was arrested on the about mentioned charge. He plead not guilty and arranged for a hearing on Friday, June 3. He has employed Levi. R. Stookey of Warsaw to defend him and gave bond for appearance.

Hmmm, interesting to note that there is or was a Leesburg Journal.

We now know that by 1916, Hiram did own an automobile.

May 31, 1916 – Warsaw Union

June 3, 1916 – The case of the state of Indiana vs H. B. Ferverda of Leesburg on the charge of injury to animals was tried in the circuit court rooms Friday afternoon by Justice Theordore Garty. Deputy prosecutor Joseph R. Harrison was assisted by attorney D.V. Whiteleather and Ferverda was defended by attorney L. R. Stookey or Warsaw. The defendant was found guilty and fined $10 and costs.  An appeal was taken by the defense and the case will be heard in the next circuit court term. Several days ago Mr. Ferverda, a wealthy and prominent citizen of Leesburg, in company with his wife and friends, while driving past the Ola Harris farm, west of town, in an auto, struck a young cow, which later had to be shot on account of a broken leg sustained from the collision. The present case is an outgrowth of a confrontation between Mr. Harris and Mr. Ferverda. Harris claimed Ferverda should pay him $100 damages on the cow and may decide later to file a damage suit.

I think the term “wealthy and prominent” might just say it all about the motivation for this lawsuit.

It’s interesting that Hiram was found at fault for hitting a cow that was in the road. Very different from today.

June 8, 1916 – Northern Indianian

September 9, 1916 – Warsaw Union

I never did discover the outcome.

I did, however, discover this vintage seat in the Warsaw courthouse and couldn’t help but wonder if Hiram sat here during one of his many visits, maybe impatiently tapping his toe on the ground.

1917

World War I had begun in 1914, but by 1917, the action in Europe had really heated up.

In January, in violation of international law, Germany declared unrestricted submarine warfare, hoping to starve the British out of the war. The Germans understood that their actions would probably draw the US into the war, but thought the damage to Great Britain would be so devastating that it wouldn’t matter.

According to the Chicago Tribune in a 2016 article, prices had soared. Bread was 20 cents a loaf and flour jumped $3 a barrel. The country came to understand food conservation with “meatless Mondays” and “wheatless Wednesdays.”

A headline in the Indianapolis News on April 10, 1917, told readers “Patriotic Wave is Sweeping Indiana.” The article reported that “thousands of native and foreign-born citizens are showing their fealty to the flag by taking part in great street demonstrations which include parades, salutes to Old Glory and the singing of patriotic songs.”

In April, Hiram’s son, George volunteered.

April 12, 1917 – Warsaw Daily Times

The headlines looked like this:

That Thursday, the entire county shut down to go to Warsaw.

George was obviously very inspired.

May 10, 1917 – Warsaw Union – allowed H. B. Ferverda, Sept roads, $14.35.

And still, Hiram works on the roads.

May 10, 1917 – Warsaw Union

May 11, 1917 – Warsaw Union – allowed H. B. Ferverda, roads $13.35.

Commencement

Meanwhile, as the President was calling for young men to volunteer for the military, Hiram’s youngest son, Donald, was graduating from high school.

May 22, 1917

How I would love to hear what Donald’s speech.

Wyoming

June 1, 1917 – Warsaw Union

Hiram and Eva set off for Wyoming. I wonder if they took the train or drove. Trains were a lot more reliable than automobiles at that time.

Ira had married Ada Pearl Frederickson in 1904 and moved to Wyoming sometime between the birth of their son in July of 1907 and the 1910 census.

The wave of patriotism may have been responsible for the surfacing of the General Pershing story once again.

July 9, 1917 – Warsaw Daily Times

August 9, 1917 – Northern Indianian– Lists of Volunteer troops from Kosciusko County

This list confirms that Hiram’s father, Bauke, was known as Baker in the US.

Aug. 23, 1917 – Warsaw Union

I’d guess that Ira and his wife were just plain homesick and when Hiram, Eva and Treva, Ira’s wife’s sister were preparing to leave – Ira decided to go with them. However, Ira’s health was deteriorating too.

Sept. 10, 1917 – Warsaw Daily Times – Warsaw Boys Off For Fort Benjamin Harrison (list includes) George Ferverda

Dec. 21, 1917 – Warsaw Union – George Ferverda arrived on Friday from Camp Shelby to spend Christmas with relatives.

Dec. 29, 1917 – Warsaw Union

I would bet this is when the picture was taken – especially since John Ferverda is without his family in the photo and in this article too.

Hiram would have been 63 in December of 1917.

The next photo looks to have been taken at the same time but included the other family members in attendance as well.

There’s a bit of confusion about the house.

This could have been the same building, with an extended porch. It’s difficult to tell because it certainly is not the house on the farm and it doesn’t look like the house above. However, whichever of Hiram’s grandchildren that wrote the Ferverda book would surely have known.

In 1917, the second draft registration known as the “Old Man’s Draft” was put into place. Hiram’s brother, William, then age 45, registered.

His registration tells us that William has blue eyes and light hair.

I wish Hiram had registered, but he was beyond the age cutoff. Given that my grandfather, John, had blue eyes, I suspect that Hiram did too.

1918

Feb. 7, 1918 – The Northern Indianian – Hiram Ferverda of Leesburg transacted business at Warsaw on Tuesday.

Feb. 8, 1918 – Warsaw Union – H. B. Ferverda allowed $228 for gravel road repair.

Feb 16, 1918 – Warsaw Union- Mrs. H. B. Ferverda of Leesburg spent Friday in Warsaw on business.

Roscoe Enlists and Marries Without Telling His Parents

February 28, 1918 – Friends and relatives here had just learned of the marriage last month of Roscoe Ferverda, son of Mr. and Mrs. H. B. Ferverda of Leesburg and Miss Effie Ringo of North Vernon, Indiana. Mr. Ferverda who was a telegrapher at North Vernon enlisted in the signal corps and just before being called for examination was taken sick with measles. He came home for two weeks and immediately upon his return to North Vernon was examined and sent to the training camp at Vancouver, Washington. The wedding took place while at North Vernon for the examination. The bride is expected here tomorrow for a visit with his parents.

Whoo boy! Not only did Roscoe marry without telling his parents and didn’t tell them for a month, but his bride wasn’t Brethren. Not only that, she was coming to meet his parents alone – and pregnant! Their son, Harold was born on August 5th.

Hiram’s Not a Citizen!

April 27, 1918 – Warsaw Daily Times

Imagine Hiram’s surprise to discover that he wasn’t an American.

I should probably have requested his naturalization papers when I was in Warsaw.

Don Ferverda Enlists

June 27, 1918 – Warsaw Union – Don Ferverda son of Mr. and Mrs. H. B. Ferverda and…left on Thursday for Fort Wayne where they expect to enlist in the regulars.

This makes 3 of Hiram and Eva’s sons who have enlisted in WWI, plus Ira who served in the Spanish American War. I can’t help but wonder, as Brethren, how Hiram and Eva felt about this, other than praying for their safe return.

I have been unable to find Donald’s military records.

June 29, 1918 – Don Ferverda, son of Mr. and Mrs. H. B. Ferverda, and James Kohler, son of Mr. and Mrs. W.A. Kohler, of Leesburg, left on Thursday for Fort Wayne where they expect to enlist in the regulars.

October 28, 1918 – Warsaw Union – Among the many patriotic residents of Plain township are three men who each have 3 sons in military service. These men are…George Ferverda who is in France, Donald Ferverda who is at Jefferson Barracks, Mo., and Roscoe Ferverda who is in the Signal corps and located somewhere int the state of Washington, sons of Hiram Ferverda of Leesburg. Ira Ferverda, another son, was a soldier in the Spanish-American war and was responsible for saving the life of a captain who belonged to the same cavalry company as Mr. Ferverda.  They were crossing a flooded river when Captain Wiltshire lost his balance and started to sink, but was rescued by Ira Ferverda.

The photo above shows the three Ferverda boys who served in WWI and was brought to the Ferverda reunion held in 2010.  Roscoe is seated in the middle, George on the left and Don, at right. I don’t know if this picture was dear to Eva Miller Ferverda or broke her heart that her sons were serving in a war, giving her Brethren heritage and that her grandmother was born in Germany.

1919

April 23, 1919 – Warsaw Daily Times – H. B. Ferverda and wife of Leesburg and Erv Ferverda and family spent Sunday with Ira Ferverda and family.

June 12, 1919 – The Northern Indianaian – Mr. and Mrs. Hiram Ferverda of Leesburg and Mr. and Mrs. John Ulrey of Napanee were guests of Mrs. Sarah Whitehead on Monday afternoon.

June 19, 1919 – Northern Indianian – H. B. Ferverda allowed $12.65 for road repairs

Aug 13, 1919 – Warsaw Daily Times – Rollin Robinson and family, Rosco Ferverda and family, Hiram Ferverda and wife of Leesburg, John Ferverda ad family and Mrs. McCormick of Silver Lake spent Sunday with Lewis Hartman and family.

Mrs. McCormick is John Ferverda’s mother-in-law.

Ladies Aid Society

November 5, 1919 – On Wednesday the Ladies Aid society of the New Salem church met at the home of Mrs. H. B. Ferverda.

I wonder if this meant that Hiram was absent until the meeting was over. Maybe he went to the bank or to see one of his sons. My Dad used to go to the barn or the mill when these “hen gatherings” happened at our house.

This is the first mention of the Ladies Aid Society, and I wonder if it was formed in response to the War effort.

Nov. 12, 1919 – Warsaw Union – Mrs. H. B. Ferverda and Mrs. Thomas Dye, of Leesburg were in Warsaw Wednesday morning enroute for Fort Wayne where they will visit for several days with the former’s daughter, Mrs. Louis Hartman.

This tells us that daughter Gertrude, known as Gertie, had moved to Fort Wayne.

1920

In the 1920 Census, Hiram clearly lives on Church Street – probably in the last house before the census-taker turned the corner and started down Prairie, which runs parallel. This confirms the location of his house.

June 11, 1920 – Warsaw Daily Times – B. Ferverda, gravel road repair $13.75

Dec. 21, 1920 – According to the Warsaw Daily Times, Roscoe and his wife were living in Leesburg at this time.

1921

January 19, 1921 – H. B. Ferverda, road work, $17.80.

July 8, 1921 – H. B. Ferverda for gravel road repair $36.42.

Sept 10, 1921 – H. B. Ferverda gravel road repair $20.05.

Oct. 13, 1921 – Roscoe Ferverda, new agent for the Big 4 has moved his family into the Burdge property on Main Street.

The railroad ran parallel to Old 15, on the east side of Leesburg.

1922

Feb. 10, 1922 –- Warsaw Daily Times –  H. B. Ferverda grading road $1.75.

Hiram is still grading roads!

May 9, 1922 – Warsaw Union

This is the first in a series of bank statements published. I suspect this began in reaction to something – but have no idea what. Hiram is now vice-president. Mr. Hall is still president and has been since the beginning. It’s odd that there are no social interactions between the Hall and Ferverda families.

Donald is now cashier, which I suspect means that he runs the day to day business of the bank.

June 27, 1922 – Warsaw Daily Times – H. B. Ferverda and wife spent Saturday at the David Miller home new New Paris. Mr. Miller, brother to Mrs. Ferverda is in very poor health.

David B. Miller died on September 25, 1922 of chronic kidney disease with bronchitis contributing.

July 3, 1922 – Warsaw Union

Sept. 20, 1922 – Warsaw Union

Oct. 13, 1922 – Warsaw Union – Commissioner’s allowances – Hiram Ferverda, gravel road repair – $5

Nov. 16, 1922 – H. Ferverda, C Long Road $72.00.

This is the last road maintenance we find for Hiram. He’s 68 years old.

Dec. 26, 1922 – Warsaw Union

It’s interesting that they went visiting on Christmas Day. I’m surprised, although many German families actually celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve, and Eva’s parents were German.

1923

Jan 5, 1923 – Warsaw Union

March 30, 1923 – Mr. and Mrs. Ferverda of Leesburg spent Sunday evening with Albert Heckaman and family.

April 9, 1923 – Warsaw Union

April 30, 1923 – Warsaw Union

Samuel Whitehead was Eva’s half sibling through her mother’s first husband and died of chronic bronchitis.

July 30, 1923 – Warsaw Daily Times and the Northern Indianian

August 21, 1923 – Warsaw Daily Times and the Northern Indianian – The 4^th annual reunion of the Hartman family was held August 19^th at the home of Pearl Hartman near Larwill, Indiana. At the noon hour, a picnic dinner was served under the trees. A program consisted of music and songs followed the dinner. Games were played and ice cream was served late in the afternoon. There were 119 relatives which came from far and near to enjoy this happy reunion. Present were…(long list including) Mr. and Mrs. Hiram Ferverda of Leesburg.

September 3, 1923 – Warsaw Daily Times – Will Ferverda and family, living north of Gravelton, were Sunday guests of his brother, H. B. Ferverda and wife.

Sept 22, 1923 – Warsaw Daily Times

October 3, 1923 – Warsaw Union

John’s wife was Edith.

Nov. 10, 1923 – Warsaw Union

Nov. 12, 1923 – Warsaw Union – Ira Ferverda and family of Oswego expect to move to Leesburg next Monday.

Nov. 22, 1923 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mr. and Mrs. H. B. Ferverda spent Wednesday in the John Ulery home. Mr. Ulery is quite poorly.

1924

January 5. 1924 – Warsaw Union

April 11, 1924 – Warsaw Daily Times and the Northern Indianian – Mr. and Mrs. H. B. Ferverda spent Thursday at Silver Lake with their son, John and family.

April 11, 1924 – Warsaw Union

Eva’s brother Emanuel was 75 years old and died of a stroke.

April 24, 1924 – Warsaw Union

July 22, 1924 – Warsaw Daily Times – Mr. and Mrs. Roscoe Ferverda and two children of Silver Lake spent Sunday at the home of his parents, H. B. Ferverda and wife.

Sept 23, 1924 – Warsaw Union

These bank notices stopped at this point.

Sept. 27, 1924 – Warsaw Daily Times and Northern Indianian – Mrs. George Han?? (possibly Haney) of Milford Junction and Will Ferverda, living near Gravelton were here Friday to see H. B. Ferverda who has been seriously ill for several days.

This is the first indication that Hiram is ill.

October 7, 1924 – Warsaw Daily Times and Northern Indianian

Fifty descendants – how amazing!

October 8, 1924 – Warsaw Daily Times and Northern Indianian – Mrs. Gertrude Dausman returned Tuesday to her home at Nappanee after spending a week here with her brother, H. B. Ferverda.

Looks like the family is all coming to say goodbye.

October 16, 1924 – Warsaw Union – Mr. and Mrs. Roscoe Ferverda were at Leesburg Saturday with the former’s parents.

Dec. 29, 1924 – Warsaw Daily Times and Northern Indianian

1925

April 13, 1925 – Warsaw Daily Times and Northern Indianian

I wonder if my grandmother was at home with my mother who may have been ill.

It’s interesting to learn that Easter gathering was a Ferverda tradition.

Hiram’s Death

June 5, 1925 – Warsaw Daily Times and Northern Indianian

That day’s headline:

Two days later, on the 7^th, Hiram died.

June 8, 1925 – Warsaw Union

The handwriting was on the wall.

June 8, 1925 – Warsaw Daily Times and the Northern Indianian

Hiram had 7 sons, why only 6 as pallbearers? Maybe there was only room for 6 men?

June 9, 1925 – Warsaw Union

June 10, 1925 – Warsaw Union

June 10, 1925 – Warsaw Daily Times and the Northern Indianian

From the Silver Lake Record, June 11, 1925, Page 1 column 1:

Leesburg Man Dead – H.B. Ferverda, Father of Two Silver Lake Boys Passed Away – Survived by Widow and 11 Children

Sunday afternoon in Leesburg occurred the death of Hiram B. Ferverda following a long illness of tuberculosis.

He had been up and around until only a few days prior to his death and he was here in Silver Lake on Saturday – Decoration Day – visiting with his sons Roscoe and John Ferverda and families.

Mr. Ferverda was past 70 years of age and was born in Holland coming to this country when only about 13 years of age. He and the faithful wife resided on a farm near Leesburg and there they reared 11 children all of whom were at the parental home on Sunday.

Mr. Ferverda is survived by the widow, the children, one brother, two sisters besides many other relatives.

The funeral was held Wednesday at the New Salem Church near Leesburg and interment was made in the church cemetery. The 6 sons acted as pall bearers, which was the father’s request.

This mention of Tuberculosis is very interesting, because Hiram’s son, John contracted TB in the late 1950s. It’s possible for TB to lie dormant for years.

Hiram’s death certificate says he died of heart exhaustion and a contributory cause of chronic bronchitis. He was a retired farmer. Book H-22, page 50, local nu 6.  Died in Leesburg. Age 70 years 8 months 16 days.

The great irony is that after I finished this article, I realized I had completed it on the cold, rainy 94th anniversary of his death.

June 11, 1925 – Warsaw Union

They were a little behind.

June 12, 1925 – Warsaw Daily Times and Northern Indianian

Hiram’s Will and Estate

June 13, 1925 – Warsaw Union

June 18, 1925 – Warsaw Daily Times and Northern Indianian – Roy G. and Donald D. Ferverda have been appointed executors of the estate of Hiram W. Ferverda who died at his home in Leesburg recently.

During a visit to Kosciusko County in May of 2019, I obtained Hiram’s will and estate papers.Hiram wrote his will on the 10^th of February. Even though he was 70 years old, he probably didn’t believe his death was imminent until that time.

Hiram left everything to Eva, in fee simple, meaning that she in essence could do anything she wanted with this estate, or any portion thereof.

Following Hiram’s will in the will book is an affidavit of death.Followed by the widow’s election:The clerk’s office wasn’t helpful, but the Historical Society was very nice and sent me Hiram’s estate paperwork, beginning with the inventory.

As expected, Hiram owned stock in the bank. He also had a couple of CDs and some cash.

His “old car” was only worth $50, and I surely wish they had said what kind of car it was. It would be worth far, far more today.

The land Hiram had purchased for $8000 in 1893 had almost doubled in value.

Given that Hiram owned 4 tons of hay, I’d wager that Irv paid his rent in a percentage of crops.

What’s missing is the land Hiram owned in Leesburg. Where is that?

The settlement of Hiram’s estate is shown thus:

There were crops not inventoried, probably because they hadn’t yet been grown or harvested in June when Hiram died. The inventory was settled more than a year later, in November of 1926.

Hiram’s funeral cost a whopping $700, 14 times more than the value of his car, but his medical care, only $30.

Ironic that the insurance was only on the farm buildings, not the houses, or at least not the house in Leesburg.

John Ferverda’s Debt

It appears that for some reason, in 1924, John Ferverda, Hiram’s son, had fallen on hard times. My mother would have been about 18 months old.

On June 21, 1924, Hiram in essence co-signed for a note for John due to Indiana Loan and Trust in Warsaw for $1600 plus interest, due 60 days later. Why didn’t Hiram do business with his own bank?

On April 11, 1925, Hiram signed for a note for son John for a second note in the amount of $3900 plus interest to People’s Bank, his own bank, due in 6 months.

Apparently neither of these notes was paid by either man. Hiram was clearly gravely ill and John was obviously unable to pay.

By the time the estate settled, the total of John’s notes was $6096.84 – nearly one third of the total value of Hiram’s estate, including Hiram’s farm.

I wondered if John borrowed money to purchase his house, but I believe that they lived in that home when my mother was born in 1922, so that wouldn’t explain the 1924 and 1925 loans. These loans look short term, like they expected to be repaid shortly – but weren’t.

Eva paid those notes in order that the land and other assets not have to be sold in order to pay the balance.

I wonder where she obtained the funds to pay that huge bill.

Louise’s Will

This story isn’t finished, because Louise’s will and estate settlement takes up in early 1940 where Hiram’s story left off. Louise died on December 20, 1939 and her will as probated shortly thereafter – but for the rest of the story, you’ll have to join me for the article “Evaline Louise Miller’s Will, Estate and Legacy,” to be published shortly.

Love Letter from Eva

This love letter from Eva was found in Hiram’s Bible, given to him in 1900.

In it, Eva says:

“Search the scriptures for in them you shall find eternal life.”

Followed by:

Remember me when this you see,
While traveling o’er life’s troubled sea,
If death our lives should separate,
I pray we’ll meet at the Golden Gate.

Your wife,

Eva

Hiram and Eva Together

After leaving Hiram and Eva’s farm and property in Leesburg, I drove to the Salem Cemetery, across the road from the New Salem Church of the Brethren to visit them.

Hiram has been residing here for almost 94 years and Eva for almost 80 with three of their sons, Irv, Ray and Don.

The creation of this church was reported in the Gospel Messenger, as follows

The Gospel Messenger Feb. 1911 page 92

Bethel congregation met Jan. 28, in 1 special council for the purpose of dividing the congregation into districts. Before this work was taken up. Eld. John Stout and wife, were received by letter, and two were granted.  We had with us adjoining elders, Brethren Henry Wysong, James Neff and Amsey Clem. Bro. Wysong officiated. The question of division was taken up and after discussion the vote was taken, which resulted in a line being drawn east and west between the two country churches. Salem and Pleasant View Chapel, thus placing Pleasant View Chapel and the Milford church in the northern congregation still retain in the name of Bethel, Pleasant View Chapel being the mother church. The Salem congregations then decided to meet in council Feb. 9, to effect a new organization. It is our earnest desire that both congregations may be benefited by the change made, and that both may prosper in the cause of the Master.

Hiram and Eva had likely been members at Bethel, formed in 1859.

Across from the church, wrought iron gates beckon visitors into the cemetery.

I have taken several photos of their stone in order that others can locate their final resting place without walking the entire cemetery

Hiram and Eva’s stone is almost directly down the row in front of the gate across from the church.

In front of a large pine tree.

Hiram Bauke and Eva Miller Ferverda’s resting place in the New Salem Cemetery, Kosciusko County, Indiana. I wonder if Eva visited often, talking to Hiram, in the 14 years she outlived him.

Based on the estates, I believe the stone was purchased when she died, not when he died. Eva certainly didn’t need a stone to find him.

I’m terrible at selfies, but I couldn’t resist. I felt like I was representing several people that day; my grandfather, John, Mom, her brother, me, my brother and my children.

I also realize that based on how far distant my life is today from this farm crossroads in Indiana, I’m probably also saying goodbye…that is…until I see them all at the Golden Gate.

It’s Father’s Day, and of course, we’re either with our fathers or missing them.

This Father’s Day, I can’t help but think of my step-father, Dean Long.

This is us together at my wedding. Can you tell that we utterly adored each other, without reservation?

And while this is my favorite picture of him, wearing one of only 2 suits he ever owned, that’s not how I really remember him best.

Dad was full of life and levity.

He started early as a prankster – in his teens, seen here with his never-smiling sister Verma. He had obviously done something to deserve that “disproving glare” and you can bet he was very proud of himself!

He spent his entire life “in trouble” for some kind of escapade or practical joke.

This, this is how I remember Dad, having appropriated an old cast-off coat and created a fashion-statement hat.

And this, as I was getting my kids ready to go trick or treating. They wore matching masks.

Hugging my daughter. He would have laid his life down for that child and very nearly did.

His step-grandchildren had no idea he wasn’t “blood related.” They completely adored him. This baby, my son, tells me that “Pawpaw” still visits him in his dreams.

Dad in his first suit, complete with wig. No, I have no idea “why.” He never needed a reason to laugh or make you laugh either! He was known to appear, comically, at the most unexpected times, places and in completely out of context ways. Like…in a suit at some “event” he didn’t particularly want to attend, wearing a wig.

He was even late to his own funeral. We suspect he paid of the funeral director in advance for that tone!

And here’s Dad, wearing MY orange dress, “pregnant,” in 1978. Look at that farmer’s tan!

He played that for all it was worth including waddling and groaning! I had to provide lessons and the requisite pillow! I laughed so hard I was gasping for air and crying. I think we both did!

This grainy out-of-focus picture taken at some long-forgotten fundraiser tells the story. A man of modest means, he was always doing something for someone else even if it did require being pregnant. Believe me, lots of people paid to see that!

Dad was a farmer but raised orphan animals. He rescued creatures with no hope, bringing them home to me and Mom.

Dad chose me as his daughter, telling me that when he married my mother, he “got his baby girl back.” Linda would have been about my age and died 2 days after Christmas in 1959. He never stopped grieving her death.

His first wife, Linda’s mother, died 9 years later. He never stopped grieving Martha either, always visiting and cleaning their graves on Memorial Day. We never accompanied him. It was a trip he needed to make alone.

Here Dad is taking his daily 20 minute after-lunch nap with Frosty, his constant companion, a 3-legged cat that broke her back as a kitten in the barn. He thought there was no saving Frosty, but she outlived him. Love works miracles sometimes.

They are together now.

Dad was quite the practical jokester, participating in Rendezvous’ and Encampments throughout Indiana.

Schoolchildren attended on field trips and he educated them about pioneers and using everything at your disposal, wasting nothing. You could say he was an early recycler. It wasn’t “fashionable” then, but born of lifelong necessity. It was just the way life had always been on the farm.

Of course, there was always some funny tall tale to be told – like the yarn about the bull with the one red eye. I shudder to think. Those kids probably still have nightmares!

I made Dad’s Rendezvous clothes by hand in true pioneer style.

He carved buttons and fasteners out of bone and wood. We made such a good team. After his death, I mounted a few in a frame so they wouldn’t get lost. I can still see him intently working with his gnarled old hands.

The stories around the campfire as the “pioneer” mountainmen gathered in the evenings were less family friendly, but quite humorous, nonetheless.

One time his buddies even hung him, after a mock trial, for molesting a groundhog – all in good fun. (No groundhogs were actually molested.)

He was, of course, rescued at the last minute. I think mother and I coincidentally happened to arrive, in costume, and leapt into action just in time to save him from sure and certain death. Complete with righteous indignation of course. Mother playing the “Well, I never…what have you done now???” role with me sneaking in with a hatchet hidden under my skirt in the nick of time to spontaneously chop the gallows rope from around his neck, facilitating his escape!

Those were the days.

Dad loved the encampments which afforded opportunities to work with his hands, somewhat raucous camaraderie and to connect with and educate young people.

I cross-stitched Dad a “banner” with the location of each of the encampments he frequented for him to hang and display at his campsite, but he hung it on the door at home instead. Mom said he was afraid it would be damaged or stained, although I viewed that as “seasoning.” I wanted him to use it, but I was secretly pleased that he loved it so much. It still hangs in my house now, 25 years after his passing.

Dad was too ill to “camp” the last summer before he passed away on Labor Day weekend, 1994. The following summer, the “rendezvous farewell ritual” took place.

Dad’s campsite was set up by his friends just like always, but was of course vacant. On Saturday evening, a fire was built in his fire pit, and everyone gathered round, telling stories and regaling tales about Dad, whose nickname was “Hoot” – because he was.

I absolutely had to attend, traveling from out of state, but mother just couldn’t. The grief was still too raw. His son didn’t bother.

Each person took turns telling stories that evening.

I laughed. I cried. A lot. Sometimes at the same time. Is that even possible?

I said, in a quiet moment, as the firelight flickered and the wood crackled, that I simply could not have had a better father if I had been his own blood.

The comfortable silence continued with everyone lost in their own thoughts when finally one of his buddies said, softly, barely audibly, “We had no idea he wasn’t your father. We knew that one of his two children was a step-child, but we thought you were his daughter. You’re the one who always came with him and made his things.”

You know why they thought that? Because I am, in my heart, and in his too.

I loved that man to depths I still can’t fathom. The grief is still new and palpable and raw, even 25 years later – especially on “those days,” like Father’s Day, his birthday, Christmas, and the anniversary of his death.

Also on days when I see cornfields, barns, cows, pigs, weeds, dandelions, snow, cats, dogs, tractors or flowers, especially his ferns growing in my garden, waist high this year.

Yes, pretty much everyday.

I’ve passed on some of the ferns and flowers from Dad’s garden, having passed through two of mine, to those grandchildren, now adults. His ferns, joyful reminders of carefree childhood summers spent on the farm.

I am eternally, sorrowfully, grateful.

I wish I had told him more often and could tell him, in person, just one more time. It didn’t seem necessary. I thought I had forever. I didn’t.

All I can do now is visit his grave.

Thank you, Dad.

I love you.

Recently, I became aware of petitions in the Tennessee State Library and Archives (TSLA), by county, when reading this article by Judy Russell, the Legal Genealogist. If you have ancestors in Tennessee, check this resource.

Between 1840 and 1850, several of my ancestors lived in the area of Claiborne and Hawkins County, Tennessee that would become Hancock County in 1848 when the Tennessee Supreme Court overruled attempts to block the formation of the new county.

This process of forming Hancock County was not straightforward and resulted in numerous petitions being filed, which was probably terribly frustrating at the time and probably divisive within the community. However, the petitions are a goldmine of information now. Not only can we discover how our ancestors felt about the county’s formation but even more importantly, signatures are found on the petitions.

In order to sign a petition, one must be a registered voter. I know for sure that voters had to be white and male, but they may have also been required to be landowners although I have some doubt about that.

Some signatures appear to be original, and others appear to be transcribed from a list.

I ordered the petitions from the Tennessee State Archives and they arrived a couple weeks later.

Who Lived in Hancock County, Tennessee?

My ancestors who lived in this region between 1840 and 1850 included the following men who were old enough to sign the petitions in the 1840s.

The Crumley and Vannoy families intermarried, and the Bolton, Herrell, McDowell and Clarkson families lived adjacent on the Powell River very near the Virginia border and intermarried as well. The Crumley/Vannoy group signed the petitions, and the Bolton/Herrell/McDowell/Claxton/Clarkson group did not.

I’m sure there was some underlying reason for how these two groups of residents felt, that that information has not trickled down to us today.

There is a very unexpected surprise involving the signature of William Crumley on this petition.

First, let’s look at the petitions themselves.

The Petitions

In total, 6 petitions existed between 1839 and 1844. In 1848, the Tennessee Supreme Court finally decided the fate of Hancock County and since it exists today, we know that they voted in favor of the county formation.

On these petitions, the introductory paragraphs stated the purpose of the petition, followed by the signers. Not all petitions had signature pages nor were productive, so I’ve included the petition pages that included names of my ancestors.

Petition 2

TSLA Summary:

Claiborne County petition from 311 signatures from Hawkins and Claiborne Counties asking they be allowed to form a new county. (Hancock County)

• Roll – 16
• Year – 1841
• Petition – 122a

Detail from actual petition:

On September 2, 1841, residents petitioned for the following, the verbiage extracted.

“Petition as a result of the inconveniences under which we labor traveling some 25 miles over large cragged mountains to serve as jurors or in other cases and at great expense and trouble, we heretofore employed a surveyor to run out the boundary of a new county composed of the parts, Hawkins and Claiborne. He returned 389 square miles in said bounds, which is 30 square miles over and above the constitutional number of square miles prescribed for any new county.”

This first petition was not granted. However, there were six total pages of signatures that appear to be the original signatures, not a transcribed list, dated September 2, 1841.

Elijah Vannoy is signature #5

Joel Vannoy’s signature is #99.

Petition 3

TSLA petition summary:

Claiborne County – new county  –  Petition from certain citizens of Claiborne County asking they be permitted to form a new county.

• Roll – 16
• Year – 1841
• Petition – 85

From the petition signed Dec. 22, 1841, submitted on Dec. 31, 1841, heard on January 25, 1842.

“Petitioners of Claiborne County secondly petition your honorable body that we are a people far remote from the county cits (seats) Tazewell and that we employed a surveyor will qualified and after being duly sworn…”

Followed by a description of the proposed county bounds and signatures of petitioners within the pounds of the territory of the county” that appear to be original. They state they have 160 qualified voter signatures and ask if the petition is not granted, “if the ballot box says we have, let us hear it and if not, let us not trouble your honors further.” They state they have an overwhelming majority and a constitutional right to establish a new county.

Only 93 signatures are included.

William Crumley signed at #21 and his son John Crumley at #23.

Joel Vannoy signed at #73, his father Elijah Vannoy Sr. at #92 and Joel’s brother, Elijah Vannoy Jr. at #93.

Petition 4

TSLA Summary:

Claiborne County  –  Petition from 246 citizens Claiborne and Hawkins Counties to form a new county to be known as Hancock County. Map of proposed county and statement of Richard Mitchell, deputy surveyor, included in the folder.

• Roll – 16
• Year – 1843
• Petition – 61

From the petition:

November 1843 – Petitioners of Hawkins and Claiborne County living at a remote distance from the seat of justice of each county and often having to attend as jurors and in other business, over cragged mountains and high waters, we pray your honorable body to grand unto us a new county composed in the parts of Hawkins and Claiborne. We have not approached closer than 12 miles to the existing county seats. We have  at least 600 qualified voters in the bounds of the new contemplated county and this being our third petition…”

Joel Vannoy signed at #12 and Elijah Vannoy at #33.

E Vannoy signs at #69, but either this one or the signature at #33 would be Jr. Many of these signatures look very similar, causing me to wonder if some of the signatures were transcribed from an original list, not actually signed on this document.

William Crumley signs at #202, but it matches the rest and does not appear to be an original signature. William’s son, Aaron F. Crumley signs at #194.

This document is followed by the survey dated by the surveyor as to its accuracy November 11, 1843. I wonder if some of the signature papers were lost, although at the end of the signature section there were 34 more that said “signed over legend” which I presume means people who signed with an X witnessed by another individual.

That does not equate to the 600 mentioned, but perhaps this is in addition to an earlier petition.

Petition 5

TSLA Summary:

Claiborne County – new county – Petition from 106 citizens of Claiborne County asking they be allowed to form a new county.

• Roll – 17
• Year – 1843
• Petition – 146

From the petition:

Nov 25, 1843 – Petitioners of Claiborne County who reside in the part in the bounds and in favor of a new county.

William Crumly signed at #14, with son Aaron F. Crumley at #13, son John Crumley at #19 and Elijah Vanoy at #18. Of course, we don’t know the order of the homes of the people involved, but Elijah’s son, Joel married William’s daughter, Phoebe, in 1845.

Some of these signatures appear to be original, but the Aaron and William Crumley signatures appear to be the same.

Elijah Vanoy Sr. or Jr. signed at #28 and Elijah Sr.’s son, Joel signed at #85.

There were a total of 106 signatures on 3 pages. Only the people in the affected area needed to sign one way or another.

William Crumley’s Signature Solves a Mystery

With 4 William Crumleys in successive generations, keeping them straight has been a challenge, to put it mildly.

In the article about William Crumley (the third born 1788), son of William Crumley (the second born 1767/8), I discussed the fact that both men lived in Greene County, TN, and one of them married Elizabeth Johnson in October 1817.

For a very long time, it was presumed, based on her probable age, if Elizabeth was who we thought she was, that she had married the younger William Crumley, and that his wife, Lydia Brown had died shortly after giving birth to a child in April of 1817. Speedy remarriages weren’t uncommon in that time and place.

The only somewhat unusual circumstance is that Elizabeth Johnson would have gotten pregnant in June, because the next child born to William Crumley (the third) and his wife was my ancestor Phoebe who arrived in March of 1818. It was also a little unusual that Lydia Brown’s mother’s name was Phoebe Cole and Elizabeth named her first child Phoebe. But then again, the Johnsons and Browns were intermarried too or maybe Elizabeth was just incredibly generous.

Or, maybe Lydia didn’t die after all and Elizabeth married a different William Crumley and was not the mother of Phoebe.

By testing the mitochondrial DNA of the descendants of the child born in April of 1817, Phoebe’s descendants along with the descendants of the next child, Malinda, born in 1820, we confirmed that their mitochondrial DNA was identical. Now granted, this could happen if the two women, Lydia and Elizabeth shared a common matrilineal ancestor.

That’s rather unlikely since Phoebe Cole was from New Jersey and Elizabeth Johnson’s father, Zopher, was from Pennsylvania – but with genealogy you never know for sure. Stranger things have happened.

However, William Crumley’s signature on this petition is corroborating data for the mitochondrial evidence.

William Crumley who married in 1817 has a different signature than two other documents signed in Greene County by a William Crumley as well.

William Crumley the third would have been called Jr. in Greene County, given that William Crumley (the first) was already long deceased by 1817, so William Crumley the second would have been William Crumley Sr. in Green County.

I had to make a chart to keep all of the Williams and their signatures straight.

We don’t know which William Crumley married in 1817. What I really NEED to know if if William the third married in 1817, because my ancestor, Phoebe, was born in 1818.

We know unquestionably that the 1796 document was signed by William Crumley II because the older William Crumley was dead by then, and the younger one still a minor. This does of course assume the signature is actually Williams.

A comparison of the various signatures, assembled by researcher Stevie Hughes some years ago shows us the following variations.

The next signature is William Crumley from the 1841 petition and looks to be nearly an exact match to the 1816 signature but NOT to the 1817 marriage signature.

The signature from William Crumley’s 1814 power of attorney having to do with his War of 1812 service is shown below. This signature looks to be identical to the 1814 signature, again, assuming this is his actual signature and the clerk did not transcribe it. the clerk would have been the same person if these signatures are transcribed, so the signatures would “match.” No wonder I’m confused.

We know that William Crumley in 1807 is in fact the man who married Lydia Brown and that signature does not match the man who signed the 1796 document just a decade earlier. What we don’t know for sure, at least without further analysis, is that the first bondsman in 1807 was the groom and not the groom’s father.

The signature in 1807 and 1817 looks more alike than the other two signatures, who also resemble each other. This 1807/1817 resemblance is what led researchers for years to assume that the William who married Lydia Brown is the same William that married Elizabeth Johnson.

The surnames look very similar, but the Ws look different. The W in 1817 looks a bit wobbly.

Jotham Brown was Lydia’s brother, and William Crumley Sr. would have been the father of William Crumley Jr. who married Lydia Brown. How do we know that?

William Crumley who married in 1807 was underage, so his father had to sign for him. He could not sign for himself. So clearly, there is some confusion about who is being called Jr. and Sr. and who is marrying who in 1817.

What we still don’t know positively is if the man in 1817 who married Elizabeth Johnson was William the second or third.

The signature on the petition in Hancock County matches exactly to that of William Crumley the third (Jr. in Greene County, born 1788) and not that of the man who married Elizabeth Johnson in 1817.

We know the man who signed the Hancock County petition in 1841 was William the third born in 1788 (Jr. in Greene County) because this William died between 1837 and 1840 in Lee County, VA, right across the county line from Hancock County, TN.

My Unexpected Gift

When I requested this petition, I thought I might learn something interesting about my ancestors and the history of the region where they lived, generally.

I never expected to solve a long-standing mystery. I didn’t even realize what I had, at first, and then the light bulb clicked on and I retrieved the various signatures for comparison.

We now have two important independent pieces of evidence that point to the same conclusion. We have full sequence mitochondrial DNA results from Family Tree DNA that match, strongly suggesting that Phoebe Crumley had the same mother as both her older sister who was born in 1817 before William Crumley married Elizabeth Johnson and Phoebe’s younger sister born in 1820. Furthermore, we have a signature for William Crumley (born in 1788) in Hancock County in 1841 which is not the signature of the William Crumley who married in Greene County in 1817.

William Crumley (the older of the two men in 1817) would have been 50 years old, marrying for the second time, and did not need a separate bondman. He had enough money to be his own bondsman while his son who had been a minor in 1807 did not. William Crumley born in 1788, the younger of the two William’s would also have been marrying for the second time, and he wouldn’t have needed a secondary bondsman either in 1817.

Regardless of the signatures, given the question about originality, I’m extremely grateful for the mitochondrial DNA test results.

You just never know what one single signature, DNA test or piece of information will do for you and more information is always better.

Order everything!

Evaline Louise Miller was my great-grandmother who married Hiram Bauke Ferverda.

This charcoal drawing of Evaline was sent to me electronically some years ago by a generous cousin and was restored by a talented friend.

Eva, as she was called by the family, pronounced Ev-uh with the ev sounding like the ev in Chevy, was the 4^th ancestor I wrote about in the 52 Ancestors series back in January of 2014. That seems like such a long time ago, and I’ve learned so much since then.

While researching Eva’s husband, Hiram Bauke Ferverda, I discovered a lot of previously unknown information about Eva herself.

Much of Eva’s story is told in Hiram’s articles after his immigration to the US:

• Hiram Bauke Ferverda (1854-1925), Part 2: American Farmer – 52 Ancestors #240
• Hiram Ferverda (1854-1925), Part 3: Banker, Marshall and Yes, Still Brethren – 52 Ancestors #241

I was able to flesh out the lives of both Hiram and Eva through many newspaper articles that provided a window into their lives day to day. I feel like I know Hiram and Eva better than most of my other ancestors for this very reason.

I thought I had reached the end of the line when I found Hiram’s will and estate information, even though Eva lived for another 14 years.

Due to the common practice of the husband leaving their wife a “life-estate” in the husband’s property, assuring that the property would eventually be divided among his children after the wife’s death, it had never occurred to me that Eva might actually have had a separate will.

Never assume.

This couple was anything but traditional or conservative, especially not for a Brethren couple. They seemed to be Brethren on their own terms, although they were clearly devout in their beliefs and church attendance and are buried in the Cemetery at Salem Church of the Brethren.

During a visit to Kosciusko County in May of 2019, I obtained Hiram’s will and estate papers and while I was there, I checked for Eva’s too, more as an afterthought than a pre-planned task.

Surprise

The first surprise was that Hiram left everything to Eva, but not as a life estate. He left everything in fee simple, conferring total ownership, simply expressing his “wish” that she leave the remainder, whatever that might be, to the children. He also stated that his wish should not be construed in any way as binding, specifically indicating that she should have “full, entire and complete right and title.”

It’s hard to be more explicit than that.

Of course, that left me scurrying off to see if Eva had a will, which she did.

Hurray!

Hiram wrote his will on the 10^th of February 1925. Even though he was 70 years old, he probably didn’t believe his death was imminent until that time.

The newspapers held reports of him becoming increasingly ill, and he passed away in a heat wave on June 7, 1925, four months after he wrote the will.

Hiram’s will meant that Eva in essence could do anything she wanted with his estate, or any portion thereof, including the property.

Following Hiram’s will in the will book is an affidavit of death and then the “Widow’s Election.” By law, Eva was legally entitled to one third, but Hiram left her 100% of everything instead, so she had to sign to accept the provision in his will in lieu of her legal right to one third.

No decision to make there at all.

The Kosciusko County Historical Society was very nice and sent me both Hiram’s and Eva’s estate paperwork, beginning with the inventory which detailed what Eva inherited at Hiram’s death.

Hiram’s Estate Inventory

In Hiram’s inventory, the farm they had purchased for $8000 in 1893 had almost doubled in value.

What’s missing is the land they jointly purchased in Leesburg in 1909 where they lived from that time on. Where is that property?

Hiram died as the vice-president of the bank, so it’s no surprise that he owned significant stock.

Hiram’s “old car” was only worth $50. Ironic that Eva never drove. Perhaps her children used the car to shuttle her from place to place.

The settlement of Hiram’s estate is shown thus:

In this final settlement, the farm is missing too. What happened and why was it not accounted for? Generally, the administrator has to account for everything in the inventory, so this is very unusual.

However, that’s not the most interesting part, at least not to me.

Eva’s son, John Ferverda, my grandfather, is mentioned in a way that poses many unanswered questions. Rather astounding ones, actually.

John Ferverda

It appears that for some reason, in 1924, John Ferverda, Hiram’ and Eva’s son, had encountered financial difficulties. My mother would have been about 18 months old. John and his wife, Edith, also had a son, Lore, who would have been about 9.

On June 21, 1924, Hiram signed for a note for John payable to Indiana Loan and Trust in Warsaw for $1600 plus interest, due 60 days later. Why didn’t Hiram do business with his own bank? Was he protecting John from embarrassment?

I initially wondered if John borrowed money to purchase his house in Silver Lake, but I believe that they already lived in that home when my mother was born in 1922, so that wouldn’t explain the 1924 and 1925 loans. A mortgage would have been secured and for a much longer duration. These loans were short term, with the terms indicating that they expected to be repaid shortly – but weren’t.

One hint might be this notice, on April 11, 1924 in the Warsaw Daily Times and the Northern Indianian:

I thought that John had already sold or otherwise exited the hardware business, because a 1922 newspaper article refers to him once again as the local railroad station agent, and that Eva had returned home because John had been quite ill and she had been caring for him.

Adding 2+2, it appears like John was working as the station agent to supplement his income in 1922 while his wife was pregnant and possibly not working. Add to that the family oral history that John “lost” the hardware business – even though the story timeline had morphed to be during the Great Depression. Perhaps later people simply assumed that the cause was the Depression that occurred just a handful of years later.

I suspect John was having his own depression by this time because he apparently not only “lost” the business but was left quite in debt in the process. His business partner seems to have gone with the business to the new location. It sounds like John was somehow on the wrong or at least the losing end of that deal.

On April 11, 1925, exactly a year after the newspaper article and 10 months after the first loan, Hiram signed for a second note for son John in the amount of $3900 plus interest to People’s Bank, his own bank, due in 6 months. The total of those two notes is $5500, without interest.

Apparently neither of these notes were paid by either man. Hiram was clearly gravely ill and died before the second note was due, and John was obviously unable to pay.

By the time Hiram’s estate settled, the total of John’s notes was $6096.84 – nearly one third of the total value of Hiram’s estate, including the farm.

Eva paid those notes in order that the land and other assets not have to be sold in order to pay the balance.

I wonder where she obtained the funds to pay that huge bill. That’s an awful lot of “egg money” for a Brethren woman.

Eva’s Will

Eva’s will and estate settlement takes up in early 1940 where Hiram’s left off 15 years earlier. Eva died on December 20, 1939, just before Christmas.

According to Eva’s will, she owned the 4 lots in Leesburg herself. At some point, that property had to be deeded from Hiram to Eva, because in 1909, it was deeded to both Hiram and Eva and it was absent from Hiram’s estate in 1925.

Eva wrote her will long before she died, about a year after Hiram’s estate was settled. Her will is dated October 5, 1927.

In her will, Eva left the city lots to her daughter, Edith Dye, with whom (I believe) she lived the rest of her life, but something must have changed between the time Eva made her will in 1927 and her death in December 1939. Eva apparently sold the land she owned in Leesburg during her lifetime. Did she sell it to Edith Dye and husband or someone else?

I found no deed during my visit, but then again, I wasn’t specifically looking either and the Kosciusko County Auditor’s office was anything but helpful. When I later called to ask them to simply look in the deed index, they refused, stating that was “research” and suggested I hire a title company.

Eva’s inventory, provided by the Kosciusko County genealogy society listed assets and debts, as normal.

This may be the first time I’ve seen a gravedigger’s services listed, and it was almost as much as the doctor. Eva was elderly, almost 83 years old, and there wasn’t much a doctor could have done.

Eva died of a heart attack and had apparently been ill for about 6 months.

I suspect that Eva’s son, Donald’s death in early 1937, almost 3 years earlier of kidney cancer which spread throughout his body would have been very difficult on Eva, then 79 years old. She probably cared for him during his illness, kidney removal and death.

Eva’s son Irv had died in 1933 at age 52 after suffering for 17 years with cardiorenal disease. That means he would have become ill in at age 37 in 1917, several years before Hiram died, and gotten progressively worse. This might explain why Irv wound up with the farm, perhaps being Eva’s way of taking care of her son’s family. She probably took care of Irv too as his illness progressed.

By the time Eva died, she had sold the city lots and the farm, leaving only personal items and debts owed to her.

Ira’s Plight

By 1940, at age 62, Eva’s son Ira was probably very ill with a disease he most likely contracted during his service in the Spanish American War when he served in the Philippines. His health issues were complicated by a car accident in 1938 where he and his wife were injured on their way home from the “Soldiers Home” where they visited or lived in Lafayette, Indiana, for many years.

Ira eventually died of gangrene in 1950, probably a miserable death, with co-morbid conditions including a type of advanced cerebrospinal syphilis, generally termed today as Neurosyphilis. He was certified as disabled in June of 1918 and received a military pension, according to the military pension index, but when he registered for the draft 3 months later, he did not declare a physical disability. He probably didn’t want to announce that type of sensitive health issue.

Of this three children born, two died as infants, one in 1920.

Clearly, the family knew Ira had challenges given that he had been disabled more than 20 years when Eva died. Ira’s obituary, found in the Ferverda Bible, stated such, although according to the census, he worked. The family may not, however, have understood the nature of his underlying illness. Amazingly, Ira live to age 72, some 47 years after he would have contracted the disease in the military. Unfortunately, Ira’s condition appeared to have been too far advanced by 1947 after Penicillin had been discovered and began to be used against early Syphilis. His was late stage.

In 1940, Ira’s debt to his mother for $570 was deemed uncollectible and a compromise amount of $200 was reached, which he paid.

Two of Eva’s children had died prior to her death, along with Ira’s protracted and incurable illness. And then there was John’s problem.

Poor Eva.

John’s Debt

The executors declared John’s note “of no value and uncollectible” and stated that John would not share in the distribution of Eva’s estate.

On the other land, Ira’s note said that his debt was of doubtful value and that the executors consulted with all of the heirs and adjusted the balance due on his note to $200, which amount was paid, and that in exchange for the discounted amount, Ira relinquished his share of Eva’s estate. In essence, between the $200 and the amount of his inheritance, Ira paid his debt in full. Perhaps Ira and his wife were living off of his disability pension from the military or had funds left from the sale of their farm in Wyoming, or both.

The balance of Eva’s estate was $3,139.71 and her children (or their heirs), except John and Ira, received $348.85 each.

What Happened?

What happened to the balance of roughly $15,000 in the value of the farm plus at least $2000 in value of the city lots and house between the end of 1927 when Eva wrote her will and Eva’s death in December of 1939? What about the bank stock? That’s at least $20,000 in assets that are unaccounted for in 1940, which would be equivalent to roughly $365,000 today simply from inflation alone, not if invested.

Did Eva deed the farm to Irv, who subsequently died? Did he purchase the farm? If so, where did that money go? Had Eva had already divided that money between her children? If John had received roughly $2000 as his share, he still would have owed his mother money.

When Hiram died, Eva paid his estate just over $6000 on John’s behalf, yet when she died, John owed her estate $5900 which included interest. Clearly, either he had paid something, or he had already received some funds, because he owned less in 1940 than in 1925 and interest would have been accruing that entire time.

There is clearly a chapter or two I’m missing, including why the family, meaning ALL of the children, were so willing to simply forgive their brother John Ferverda his debt – apparently without having to discuss it. The discussion and agreement was mentioned regarding Ira’s debt, discounted $330 which is roughly the amount he would have inherited, but nothing at all was said about John’s $5900 debt. Furthermore, Ira signed a release, but John did not.

There was no discussion. No negotiation. Nothing. Had Eva made her intentions clear to her children?

John’s debt was HUGE compared to Ira’s and the distribution received by his siblings. $5900 for John’s forgiven debt compared to $348 each for the rest of his siblings.

John wound up with more than the rest of the heirs combined, who shared a total of $3139.71. John’s $5900 was almost double that.

There seemed to be no animosity or hard feelings, then or later. I NEVER heard one peep about this, and neither did Roscoe’s children who are still living. No one mentioned it at the 2010 reunion either.

If my mother had known something, she would likely have mentioned it, although John was probably quite embarrassed about whatever the situation was. I know his wife, my grandmother, Edith, would have been mortified.

The potential reasons that John may have been forgiven his debts are as follows:

• John had vision problems, necessitating surgery on his eyes when he was a young man. Given this, I’m not at all sure he ever was able to see properly, but he clearly was not blind.
• John studied to be a teacher, but never taught, which could have been related to his sight issue. Instead, he mastered telegraphy and became a train station agent until he bought a hardware store.
• John purchased the hardware business in 1916 along with partner R. M. Frye. The family story mentioned that he lost it during the Depression, but in reality, he was out of the hardware business before the Depression hit. In 1920, he was in the hardware business according to the census, but by November of 1922, he is once again mentioned as the Big 4 Agent at Silver Lake in a news article that said he was very ill and his mother had been caring for him.
• In November of 1922, Edith, John’s wife, was very pregnant for my mother while working and already had Lore, age 7, so I’m sure she welcomed her mother-in-law’s help with open arms.
• In 1924, John went to work as a salesman for the Ford Dealership. The newspaper article states that he had sold the hardware business and he clearly is no longer station agent either. He worked at the Ford Dealership the rest of his life. I remember him still working in the late 1950s when he would have been in his late 70s. In essence, he worked until he literally could no longer.
• In the 1930 census, John is a salesman for the Ford Garage. The family also raised chickens. Mother was paid a nickel for every chicken she cleaned and she cleaned so many that she hated cleaning chickens for the rest of her life. John is shown below with his favorite chicken.

• The Depression beginning in 1929 was financially devastating to John’s family. No one was buying cars or tractors and without a farm, John had nothing to sell, except chickens. Mom said they traded chickens for food and other essentials.
• My mother had contracted Rheumatic Fever and was critically ill for months spanning into years. Her heart was damaged and she was not expected to live, initially. She was cared for by her father, John, and her grandmother Eva for months in about 1932 because her mother Edith’s income was the only stable income for the family. Mother said that the doctor had recommended that she have her tonsils removed because they became infected so often, which eventually led to the Rheumatic Fever, but her parents could not afford the surgery. Her parents always felt terrible, like they nearly killed her. While mother did recover, that recovery was very slow because her heart was weak. She danced for years to strengthen her heart.
• John, shook, terribly – so severely that he could not lift a cup to drink without badly spilling the liquid. Eating was difficult for him and he was shaved at the barber shop because he couldn’t shave himself. We thought it was familial tremor, because other family members, including my mother had it as well. Mother never mentioned when her father began shaking, but now I wonder if his neurological issue might have been more than we realized. Did he perhaps have either MS or early onset Parkinson’s? How long had he shaken? Did that have anything to do with why he stopped working for the railroad in 1924? Could he not reliably tap out Morse Code? This might not explain why he needed the loan in 1924 and 1925, at age 42, but might explain why his siblings were willing to cut him so much slack and be so incredibly generous in 1941 when John would have been 59 years old with no hope of repaying his loan.

Was John attempting to pay off debts in 1924 from the failed hardware business? It appears so.

Maybe another trip to Kosciusko County to look at the court records, and deeds, is in order.

John and his mother were close life-long. After Hiram’s death, Eva spent a lot of time with John and family. When my mother was so gravely ill as a child, Eva lived with the family for some time. Mother said that Eva never drove an automobile, so other family members would take her where she needed to go, and she rotated between her children.

Eva often stayed with family members, and always helped when someone was ill. Mother was ill when her grandmother died and was unable to attend her funeral. She also couldn’t visit Eva when she was so gravely ill before her death and never got to say goodbye, for fear of infecting Eva. Mom was heartbroken.

However, not all of Eva passed away with her body.

Eva’s Mitochondrial DNA

We don’t have Eva’s mitochondrial DNA which could tell us so much about the history of her direct matrilineal line, meaning that of her mother Margaret Lentz, and Margaret’s mother Johanna Frederica Ruhle, and on up the direct line through all mothers. We know they were German, but nothing beyond a few generations. Mitochondrial DNA holds the key to unlocking that history.

All of Eva’s children inherited her mitochondrial DNA, but only females pass it on, so to view her mitochondrial DNA today, we have to test someone who descends from either her mother (or other direct matrilineal female ancestors) through all females, or from Eva through all females.

Eva had two half-sisters through her mother whose female children would have passed on the same mitochondrial DNA to their children that Eva carried.

• Lucinda Whitehead (1842-1935) married Joseph Haney and had 3 daughters
  • Cecil Marie Haney (1884-1977) married Bert Eugene Dausman and had 3 daughters
    • Dorothy Dausman (1903-1987) married Edward Pippenger
    • Helen Dausman (1906-1994) married Joseph Perkins
    • Trella Dausman (1909-1983) married Ladsie Straka

Any children of Dorothy, Helen or Trella carry their mothers’ mitochondrial DNA, and female children pass it on to the next generation.

• Mary Jane Whitehead (1852-1931) married John D. Ulery and had 1 daughter
  • Margaret Elizabeth Ulery (1872-1959) married Albert Mutschler and had 1 daughter
    • Mary Laureme Mutschler (1898-1990) would have passed her mitochondrial DNA to her children and female children pass it on to the next generation.

Eva had 4 daughters:

• Edith Ferverda (1879-1955) married Thomas Dye and had 1 daughter
  • Ruth Evaline Dye (1987-1992) who married Robert Kelly and had 2 sons, either of which would carry Eva’s mitochondrial DNA, but neither would pass it to their children. If they are both deceased, this line is dead for Eva’s mitochondrial DNA.
    • Roger Kelly
    • Allen Kelly
• Elizabeth Gertrude “Gertie” Ferverda (1884-1966) married Louis Hartman and had two daughters, but only one had children
  • Louisa Hartman (1903-1970) married Ora Tenney and had 3 children, but only two who are living or are female and passed on the mitochondrial DNA.
    • Richard Tenney
    • Roberta Tenney who married Rulo Frush
• Chloe Evaline Ferverda (1886-1984) married Rolland Robison and had one daughter
  • Charlotte Robison (1924-2003) married Bruce Howard and had 5 children.
    • Susan Howard married Richard Higg
    • Mary Carol Howard married David Bryan
    • James Howard
    • Thomas Howard
    • Sally Howard
• Margaret Ferverda (1902-1984) married Chester Glant and had 4 children
  • George Glant
  • Chester Glant
  • Mary Glant married Varrill Wigner
  • Joyce Glant married Delferd Zimmerman

Any of Eva’s descendants listed above who are living carry her mitochondrial DNA. The females passed it on to their offspring.

I have a fully paid DNA testing scholarship for the first person to contact me that carries the mitochondrial DNA of Eva Miller Ferverda. Are you the lucky person? Is so, please leave a comment on this article or drop me a line at robertajestes@att.net.

Eva’s Legacy

About 15 years ago, I went to Elkhart County, Indiana and met with cousin Rex Miller.

Rex passed away this week, on his 99^th birthday, as I was writing this article.

Rex was the only person I ever met that knew Eva, except my mother of course. Unfortunately, I didn’t ask my mother enough questions while she was alive. Rex, on the other hand, as one of the trustees of the Baintertown Cemetery where our ancestors are buried was interested in family history and he volunteered so much information.

Eva died when Rex was 19 years old. He knew her. He told me that they had regular family reunions, and he remembered her well both at the house in town and on the Ferverda farm. He said that Eva was an extremely kind and wonderful Christian lady.

Everyone who ever spoke of Eva mentioned her kindness and caring. The fact that she had so little to give after her death spoke to the fact that she gave so much during her life.

The fact that she went from family to family caring for the ill, especially after Hiram’s death spoke volumes about the priorities of this woman.

The fact that in her 7-page hand-written letter or article (of which page 6 is missing), Eva says, “It is the little deeds we do which count for so much…” speaks volumes.

Indeed, the big things are made up of countless little things – and Eva will always be remembered for her kindness. To quote Rex, “She was a fine, fine lady.”

That, indeed, is Eva’s legacy.

Autosomal DNA – Rex’s Gift to Eva

Rex Miller was Eva’s great nephew.

Rex was the same generation as my mother.

His DNA was invaluable to mother and Eva’s genealogy – because Rex’s autosomal DNA matches that of Eva’s descendants as well as descendants of John David Miller and Margaret Elizabeth Lentz, Eva’s parents. These matches make it easy to tell which segments of DNA come from the Lentz/Miller line.

The chromosome browser above shows some of the segments that mother matches in common with Rex, in blue. Those segments were inherited by both Mom and Rex from John David Miller and Margaret Lentz, their common ancestral couple.

After immediate family, Rex is Mom’s third closest autosomal DNA match, following her 2 first cousins who are the children of John Ferverda’s sibling. Looking at who Rex matches “in common with” mother, I see that 149 people match both Mom and Rex at Family Tree DNA and 318 at MyHeritage. That means that barring a very unexpected double relationship from two different countries, those matches can be assigned to mother’s Lentz or Miller side, assuming they are not identical by chance. If they also match a relative who descends from only the Lentz or Miller line – I can be even more specific in my family line assignment of that match.

Mother’s 3C1R, Charles Lentz fits that bill.

A common match between Mother, another person and Charles Lentz allows me to tell which side of the Lentz/Miller marriage the person matching Mom and Charles and their common segments are from, and assign the match a generation further up the tree beyond Margaret Lentz.

A common match on a segment between Rex, Mom and Charles would mean that segment originated on the Lentz side of the marriage between Margaret Lentz and John David Miller.

Rex’s DNA test is at Family Tree DNA, MyHeritage and GedMatch, as is mothers and two other individuals who are descended from Evaline and the same generation as my mother.

There is no documented case of second cousins or closer not matching autosomal DNA with each other. Mom and Rex are second cousins. 90% of third cousins match as well, so the fact that Rex, Mom and two more cousins of the same generation have tested is a huge boon to Miller and Lentz genealogists.

If you are descended from the Miller, Lentz or Ferverda line, search for DNA matches with Rex Miller, Barbara Ferverda or any other Ferverda/Fervida. The surname is rare and you can pretty much bet, in the US, if you match a Ferverda, there’s a good chance it’s from Hiram and Eva’s line.

The ability for Eva and Rex’s DNA, combined, to shine the light backwards in time, pinpointing ancestors is the genetic legacy of both of these fine people.

——————————————————————–

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on the link to one of the vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• Family Tree DNA
• MyHeritage DNA only
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload
• AncestryDNA
• 23andMe Ancestry
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists for genealogy research

William and James are both common names, as is Moore. Saying this family has been difficult to research is an understatement. I’ve made multiple trips back to Halifax County, Virginia over a period of 3 decades – each one unearthing new tidbits, but also adding more questions than answers.

Slowly, a painting of the life of William Moore has unfolded, in quite an unexpected way. But first, I had to figure out which William Moore was mine.

Multiple William Moores

There were at least five, count ‘em, five, William Moores in Halifax County, Virginia in the late 1700s, and at least two James Moores. Of course, every William and James had children named William and James, and Thomas too. Oh yea, there were Thomas Moores in Halifax connected to the Williams and James. By 1800, we had another 3 “disconnected” Williams, probably sons of the other Moore men.

I was pulling my hair out.

The only way to even begin to straighten this out is deeds that include neighbors, waterways, court records and tax lists. Plus, a couple Williams had the decency to die with a will – but not mine of course.

Worse yet, the descendants of an “unrelated” James Moore, also from Amelia County, today live on the land that my James and William Moore lived on in the late 1700s and early 1800s. I say “unrelated” because the Y DNA tells us that they don’t share a paternal Moore ancestor, but I’m not entirely convinced they are in fact “unrelated.” More about that in James Moore’s article, yet to come.

I’m able to somewhat separate my particular William Moore from the other Williams because my William, after moving to Halifax County with his father, James, never moved again. He always lived in the same location, the Second Fork of Birches Creek, on land that is now the Vernon Hill community at the intersection of Oak Level Road and Highway 360, also known as Mountain Road.

Before I introduce you to my William, let me tell you who he is not.

The Wrong Williams

These men are NOT my William Moore. I compiled an embarrassingly large “every name” spreadsheet of every Moore person I could find in colonial Virginia with the assistance of Joyce Browning’s excellent extractions before she retired from active genealogy. This means that if there is a land sale with a buyer, seller and 4 witnesses, there are 6 entries in my spreadsheet for this transaction, which is also indexed by location and waterway.

Needless to say, the Moore family was not isolated, and the Combs, Rice and Estes families took the same migration path from eastern Virginia to Halifax County, more or less, so their records are contained in this same 25,000+ row spreadsheet. By the middle to late 1700s, these early colonial families had been intermingling and intermarrying as they pushed the westward frontier for 5 or 6 generations.

Yes, it was a miserable exercise BUT, BUT and this is very important, without that effort, I would never have been able to sort these families. In some cases, I still can’t entirely.

These 4 William Moores who are also found in Halifax County in the 1700s and the early 1800s are NOT my William.

1. William (1) Moore born between 1712-1715 and died in Halifax County in 1786. He was living there as early as 1767 according to the vestry processioning notes. He lived on (Little) Cherrystone Creek and had a wife named Prudence who predeceased him. He is somehow connected to Robert Wooding. His children were Lucy Anna Moore who married John Echols and lived in Lunenburg County, Elizabeth Moore who married a Rowlett, William Jr. who lived in Pittsylvania County and probably married Sarah Hill. William lists grandchildren in his will, was wealthy and had an extensive probate.
2. William (2) Moore born between 1770-1780 lived on Catawba and Childrey Creeks on land purchased by his father, Thomas who lived in Cumberland Co., VA in 1804. In 1829, William and his son William G. along with sons Wesley and Barnett were acquitted of assault. William (2) was declared a “lunatic” in 1833 and died in 1834 with a will. He had wife Mary, children; Harriett who married Thomas E. Moore, a hatter, who MAY have been the son of my William Moore or possibly a son of Daniel Moore, but there is no proof. (I’d love a Y DNA test from this line.) Harriett and Thomas sold their interest in William (2) Moore’s estate in 1834 from Charlotte County, next door to Halifax. William (2) also had son Barnett B. Moore born 1794 who married Lydia Booker and died in Greenbrier, WV, William G. Moore who married Virginia Taylor, Thomas P. Moore who married Susan Daniel, John W. Moore who was alive in 1834, Mary Moore who married a Taylor, Elizabeth Moore who married Donald Murphy and Jenetty Moore who married Griffin Toombs. There is no known Y DNA test from this Moore line, but I suspect there may be a relationship with my William Moore family. In addition to the possible marriage, Isaac Medley was William (2) Moore’s estate administrator and was involved with my William as well, both as a neighbor and the man who foreclosed his property. On the other hand, Isaac Medley was a wealthy land speculator and seemed to be involved with everyone.
3. William (3) Moore married Rhoda Archer Powell in August 1802. His estate was probated in by 1804 in Halifax County. If they had a child, it was a female. This William may be the William associated with the Hugh Moore group.
4. William (4) Moore alive in 1775 who accepted a slave in payment of his wife’s share of her father, James Hill’s estate. I believe they lived on or near Wynne and Terrible Creeks in Halifax County.

While these aren’t my William Moore, it’s certainly possible that some of these men are related to my William Moore and if the Y DNA were be tested of Moore males who descend from these lines, we would be able to prove or disprove it – breaking down brick walls for all parties. There’s also an early Daniel and Thomas Moore who may be related. I have a DNA testing scholarship for any Moore male who descends from these lines. If any of these are your lines, leave a comment on this article, please!

My Guy – The Reverend William Moore

The Reverend William Moore was one of the earliest Methodist Ministers in the US, even before the Revolutionary War, and in particular, Virginia. He was such an interesting man and quite well traveled for a humble Virginia colonial farmer. Of course, most of his travels were on the back of a horse plodding through all kinds of weather on his way to meeting houses carrying his Bible in his saddlebag. He began as a circuit-riding preacher.

William Moore was born about 1750 in Amelia County, Virginia near Saylor Creek, the part that would become Prince Edward County in 1754. His parents, James Moore and Mary Rice lived beside her parents Joseph Rice and his wife Rachel, so William grew up beside his grandparents, at least until they pulled up stakes, packed the wagon and set off for greener pastures about 75 miles away.

Back then, 75 miles was a far distance. William may never have seen his grandparents again.

By 1770, the Moore family had moved to Halifax County, Virginia where on January 7^th we find a deed from James Spradling and his wife, Mary, to James Moore for “238 acres on the branches of the second fork of Burches Creek whereon the said Moore now lives being a part of a patent to said Spradling dated Sept. 16, 1765.” This deed was witnessed by George Stubblefield. The Moores had a generations-long relationship with the Stubblefield family and may have already been related.

Halifax County Tax Lists

Before the 1790 census, thank goodness we have Halifax County tax lists, at least partial rolls for some years.

William Moore first appears on the head of household list in 1782 with a total of 6 “white souls.” Given that 2 are he and his wife, that leaves 4 children born over approximately 8 years, plus one year before the birth of the first child and 1 year for maybe 1 death puts the marriage of William and Lucy at about 1772. Subtracting 21 years from that puts William’s birth at about 1750 or 51, or earlier. We know William died in 1826, which would have made him about 77. Lucy lived for several more years.

In 1783, a personal property tax list was taken that tells us that William had one horse and 2 cows and in 1784, he is taxed with 100 acres “from last year.” By 1784, he is up to 7 cattle and in 1785, he has 7 household members, so another child has been born. William continues to be taxed on 100 acres of land, even though he hasn’t purchased any yet, according to the deed books. As a “renter,” he is likely responsible for the taxes on the land he cultivates.

In 1788, he has 2 horses but in 1789 and 1790, only 1. Unfortunately, the 1790 census for Halifax County is missing as is 1800 and 1810.

By 1792, William has 2 horses until 1795 when he has one again but in 1796, back to 2. I suspect he is breeding a horse and selling the colt, but that’s just a guess.

In 1794, William begins being taxed on 170 acres.

In 1797, William is listed as exempt from taxes. There are very few reasons for this to occur:

• Advanced age (70 at that time in Halifax County)
• Disability (authorized by the court)
• A minister
• A sheriff or official

Granted, William was a minister, but not an Anglican minister. Never before had he been listed as exempt from taxes. His father, James, had been exempt every year since 1791, likely due to advanced age. I think James was born by 1721, so the fact that he was exempt in 1791 would seem to corroborate that.

William is not exempt in 1798, but is again in 1799.

If William was exempt because of age, he would have been consistently exempt from 1797 on, but he wasn’t. Something happened to William in 1796 or 1797, which is also the same time that he stopped submitting marriage documents to the Halifax County Clerk to be recorded.

In 1798, William is listed with 170 acres +100 acres from R. Dayelle. Is this really Ransom Day?

In 1799, William has a total of 300 acres listed as follows:

• 100 from James Moore
• 100 from same
• 100 from Ransom Day

In 1799 and 1800, William is back to one horse but has 2 again in 1801. The 1801 tax list says nothing about being exempt.

In 1802, William is taxed on 200 acres of land and that correlates with the sale of the 100 acres that he bought previously from Ransom Day. He has 3 horses that year and he is exempt again. He has 3 horses in 1803 and 1804, but 2 in 1805.

William continues to be exempt until 1806 and 1809 when he is not listed as exempt and has 4 horses. He is once again listed as exempt in 1810. After that, the tax lists are different and only provide the number of acres which continues to be 200 acres on the Second Fork of Birches Creek for William.

In 1812, William begins to be listed as William Sr., indicating that another, younger William has emerged, likely his son.

I can’t tell all of the William Moores in the county apart, so we don’t know when or if William’s son William joined the tax list. Both William and his brother Azariah married and settled in Pittsylvania County.

Azariah shows up on the tax rolls in 1804, meaning he would have been born in 1783 or before. He was a veteran in the war of 1812. His death was recorded in Pittsylvania County, but unfortunately his mother’s name is not provided.

1816 is the last year that we have tax lists for this time period. William is missing entirely from the 1820 census. The only possible William Moore that could be him is not living among the neighbors where I would expect to find him and has a slave. Given what I know about William, I’d be very hard-pressed to believe that William is mine. I think he was either missed or is at the bottom of a census page that managed to get cut off. Looking at the schedule, that’s exactly where I would expect to find him, based on his known neighbors.

Dissenters!

The Rice and Moore families were early dissenting families in Prince Edward County, meaning they did not belong to the Anglican Church. Initially, these dissenting churches were illegal, but eventually, after the Revolutionary War, each county was grudgingly allowed to have 2 or 3 “dissenting ministers” who had to be ordained and to register with the county who would then license them to perform marriages and other ministerial functions.

The requirement for ordination served to severely limit the number of requests, as ordination implied some sort of formal training and interacting with the upper echelon of the church, not just being inspired, jumping on a tree stump and preaching to your neighbors.

Joseph Rice, William Moore’s grandfather, is recorded in 1759 as having built a meeting house for a dissenting religion in Prince Edward County, so we know that William Moore was raised in a “dissenting” household. This is very probably why William’s marriage to Lucy was never recorded in the records of Halifax (or Prince Edward) County, as their marriage was likely not performed by a minister from the Anglican Church. In 1770-1775 when they would have married, the provision for dissenting ministers to be licensed had not yet been incorporated into law, so their marriage was technically nonexistent.

Another possibility is that marriage records are missing in Halifax County for the Revolutionary War years. They could have been married and the return filed, only to be subsequently lost.

Unfortunately, because that record doesn’t exist today, we don’t know Lucy’s last name.

The Early Methodist Church

William Moore is particularly interesting because of his, at that time, revolutionary religious ideas, and his passionate renderings of them.

The Methodist church had its roots in England. Francis Asbury volunteered his service to America in 1771, and in 1776, when the Revolutionary War broke out, he was the only Methodist minister to remain in America. The rest, along with many Anglican ministers as well, returned to the safety of England. While the Methodists often received the sacraments from Anglicans, now that option no longer existed.

Seeing the problem of the lack of ministers, Asbury set about finding American men to recruit as circuit riders. He had a problem however, in that ministers at that time had to return to England to be ordained, something colonial men were not interested in doing, nor was it practical, especially not in wartime. Asbury continued his work as best he could with the resources he had.

The Methodist Church in the colonies was a fledgling organization. The 1784 Christmas Conference, held a few years after the American Revolution, in Baltimore, Maryland, was a historic founding conference of the newly independent Methodists within the United States 

By November 1784, it had become evident that the American Methodists were to be granted some level of freedom from the English Anglican Church Methodist societies, and Thomas Coke was to ordain Francis Asbury as the first American Bishop at the Christmas Conference.

Eighty-three itinerant ministers were eligible to attend that conference, and of those, 60 were present, including William Moore. This record is preserved in a painting of the historic event. Unfortunately, William is too far to the rear to be seen clearly, but he is individually identified.

One possible fly in the ointment is that a different William Moore who lived in Baltimore was known to be associated with Francis Asbury, but the William Moore from Halifax County was close to another minister at that conference by the name of James O’Kelly. My ancestor, William Moore, is known to be the man who founded a church in Halifax County with O’Kelly.

We will never know for sure if the William Moore in the painting is mine from Halifax County or the William from Baltimore. For now, I’m going to assume it was my William because of his association with O’Kelly and his level of commitment to the Methodist faith.

The 1784 Christmas Conference

The famous “1784 Christmas Conference” in Baltimore, Maryland, convened on Christmas Eve, where Francis Asbury was ordained by Thomas Coke by the authority of John Wesley. This signaled the beginning of the organized Methodist Church in America, separate from England. At this conference, itinerant preachers gathered from the frontiers where they were circuit riders. Over a six-week period they prepared for the meeting and they were all present for the historic ordination of Asbury on Christmas Day along with 12 additional ministers who were ordained, setting the precedent that ministers were ordained in America at the Conference.

This wood carving of a painting shows the ordination of Asbury by Coke, with the legend prepared, below.

This is the best rendition we have of William Moore if this is our William.

William’s son, Azariah, was described by his widow in her War of 1812 pension application as having had black hair, blue eyes and a red complexion.

William is described in “The Lives of Christian Ministers” as follows:

REV. WILLIAM MOORE became an itinerant preacher among the Methodists in 1778 and continued three years having located in 1791. He was at the Conference in 1779, as also was O’Kelly, and was one of the preachers that approved the appointing of a presbytery and the giving of the ordinance to the people. This Conference was regular in its appointment and had plenary powers. It appointed a presbytery to ordain its preachers and authorized the administration of the ordinances. The answer to the question, “What mode shall we adopt for the administration of baptism?” was “Either sprinkling or plunging, as the parents or adult may choose.” Whether dissatisfied with the circuit assigned him, after Mr. Asbury came to the Conference, we know not. He was admitted however while Asbury was under the protection of his friend Mr. White’s roof in the state of Delaware. After Mr. O’Kelly’s withdrawal, he united with him in his labors, and attended the General Meetings. He attended the Conference or General Meeting at Shiloh in Halifax county, Virginia, in 1805, and served on the presbytery of ordination. Up to this time he had been a minister more than thirty years.

The interesting thing about the above passage is that the 1805 date and the 30 years comment combined indicate that William became a minister before 1775.  Also interesting is that William became a minister before the Revolutionary War, while Asbury was taking shelter from the War and not traveling to preach.

This begs the question of when William was ordained. Did he travel back to England, or was he ordained in the US?

To understand this issue of circuit assignments, it helps to understand how the Methodist religion worked at that time since there were very few ministers. The following graphic is from “Life of Rev. James O’Kelly – Christian Church in the South  – Restoration Movement.”

In essence, this ruckus was caused because ministers who did not like where they were assigned had no avenue to appeal. Keep in mind that most of these ministers were also farmers. Many were not paid at all, so being absent from one’s farm for long stretches could have devastating financial and family implications.

Not only did William witness history being made at the 1784 Conference, he was part and parcel. While William Moore didn’t leave us a journal, we’re fortunate that O’Kelly, who was friends with Thomas Jefferson, wrote, Asbury wrote and the church that O’Kelly and William Moore founded recorded their history!

Let’s take a look at what they tell us.

Later Conferences

William likely attended state conferences as well in order to participate in the functioning of the church and commune with the other ministers.

In 1786, the Virginia Conference met at Laine’s Chapel in Sussex county. In 1787, the Conference in Virginia was held at the Rough Creek church in Charlotte county across the Staunton River from Halifax. In 1781 and 1789 the Conference met in Petersburg.

By 1791 William was no longer attending the Methodist Conference, having “located”, meaning he was no longer itinerant, according to the Methodist Church archives, and was assigned to a church.

This is probably the period when the Moore Meeting House in Halifax County, Virginia, where William lived, was established, even though William Moore didn’t own that land.

The Methodist Church couldn’t explain why William didn’t have an obituary on file, but I solved that mystery.

Dissenting Again – A New Methodist Church

At the Baltimore Conference held November 11, 1793, the Rev. James O’Kelly and his immediate cohorts, which likely included our William Moore, withdrew from the Conference after a disagreement with Bishop Asbury (possibly over slavery, which Kelly and Moore vehemently opposed) to establish the “Republican Methodist Church.”

In 1801, the name was changed to “The Christian Church” and in 1803 they founded what is today the Pleasant Grove United Church of Christ in Halifax County, just down the road three and a half miles from where William lived.

William’s Ordination

In 1805, William Moore with James O’Kelly together attended the Conference or General Meeting for their new religion at Shiloh in Halifax County. William Moore served upon the presbytery of ordination at that event and was recorded as having been a minister more than 30 years, which dates his preaching career to before 1775.

We don’t know exactly when William Moore was ordained, but if he did not go to England, then I wonder if his ordination was “made official” at the 1784 Christmas Conference because the next general Methodist conference was not held until 1791 or 1792 and then every 4 years afterward.

William is recorded as having filed a marriage return with the county clerk in 1786 and produced his ordination papers in court in 1789. We know that he was present at the 1784 Christmas Conference where 12 ministers were ordained. If he was ordained earlier, it’s unclear how that could have happened unless he traveled to England for his ordination or was unofficially ordained by the other ministers. If that had happened, then how would he have had ordination papers?

What I wouldn’t give for a copy of those ordination papers submitted to the court or William’s probably threadbare copy of “The Sunday Services of the Methodists in the United States of America,” written by Wesley, typically presented to ministers at the time of their ordination.

The following quote about William Moore from “The Lives of Christian Ministers” hints that he may have been ordained during the Revolutionary War and before the Christmas Conference in 1784. When the War broke out, Asbury stopped circuit riding and took refuge in Delaware in the home of Mr. White and did not return to circuit riding until immediately following the Christmas Conference in 1784.

“Whether dissatisfied with the circuit assigned him, after Mr. Asbury came to the Conference, we know not. He was admitted however while Asbury was under the protection of his friend Mr. White’s roof in the state of Delaware.”

So if not Asbury, then who “admitted” William Moore?

According to Asbury’s transcribed notes, on page 381, in a footnote, he states that in 1778, at Broken Back Church in Leesburg, VA, the following questions were asked:

Ques.: What are our reasons for taking up the administration of the ordinances among us? Ans.: Because our Episcopal Establishment is now dissolved, and, therefore, in almost all our circuits the members are without the ordinances.” Eighteen preachers approved. They were Isham Tatum, Charles Hopkins, Nelson Reed, Reuben Ellis, Philip Gatch, Thomas Morris, James Morris, James Foster, John Major, Andrew Yeargin, Henry Willis, Francis Poythress, John Sigman, Leroy Cole, Carter Cole, James O’Kelly, William Monroe (or Moore, Lednum, op. cit., 280), Samuel Roe. Other questions were: “What form of ordination shall be observed to authorize any preacher to administer? Ans. By that of a presbytery. Ques. Who are the presbytery? Ans. Philip Gatch, Reuben Ellis, James Foster and in case of necessity, Leroy Cole. What power is vested in the presbytery by this choice? First to administer the ordinances themselves; second, to authorize any other preacher or preachers, approved by them, by the form of laying on of hands.

Asbury disproved, but it happened nonetheless.

Was this “approval” William’s ordination? This 1778 date correlates with the information provided in the “Lives of Christian Ministers.” William could have been preaching prior to 1778 before being ordained.

According to the History of Methodism in the US discussing the American Revolution:

Up until this time, with the exception of Strawbridge, none of the missionaries or American preachers was ordained. Consequently, the Methodist people received the sacraments at the hands of ministers from established Anglican churches. Most of the Anglican priests were Loyalists who fled to England, New York or Canada during the war. In the absence of Anglican ordination, a group of native preachers ordained themselves. This caused a split between the Asbury faction and the southern preachers. Asbury mediated the crisis by convincing the southern preachers to wait for Wesley’s response to the sacramental crisis. That response came in 1784.

Was William one of the self-ordained ministers? What the 1784 answer to officially ordain William Moore at the Christmas Conference?

It’s known that William Moore and James O’Kelly were fast friends. In 1786, O’Kelly was assigned to preside over the circuit that included Halifax County.

William Moore produced his ordination papers in court in Halifax County, VA in 1789 and was licensed as one of the 3 “dissenting ministers” allowed to each county after the Revolutionary War. In order to qualify, each minister had to produce their ordination papers and then they were licensed to perform marriages, baptisms and other ministerial functions.

Most importantly, they could register the marriages they performed. We know that William was marrying people in Halifax before this date, at least as early as 1786 when he married Bolling Hamlett and Polly Combes and registered the marriage with the clerk of court, so his ordination was clearly prior to 1786, one way or another.

The Moore Meeting House and Neighborhood

William moved to Halifax County with his father, likely farming part of his father’s land for several years. William and Lucy were married by about 1772, so the marriage likely occurred in Halifax County sometime after William moved there about 1770.

The Revolutionary War and William’s circuit riding likely interrupted plans for land ownership, but in 1797, Ransom Day sold William Moore 100 acres on Polecat and Birches Creeks for 75 pounds, with the “meeting house excluded.” It’s worth noting that Thomas Moore witnessed this purchase, given that Thomas is believed to be one of William’s children, perhaps his eldest. If Thomas Moore was not William’s son, Thomas was probably William’s youngest brother.

William and Lucy owned this tract of land until 1801 when they sold it to Arthur Slaton, again, excepting “where the meeting house stands.” They couldn’t sell what they didn’t own.

Two of William’s daughters married Slayte/Slate men.

In deeds later in the 1800s, the meeting house is referred to as the “Moore Meeting House” even though William never officially owned it.

In 1798, James Moore sold 200 acres for 65 pounds on the Second Fork of Birches Creek to William. Thomas Moore witnessed that transaction too. The Ferguson family, neighbors with whom an alliance from Amelia County is suspected, along with Henderson family members served as witnesses.

William Moore’s 1797 land purchase from Ransom Day, “meeting house excepted,” today includes the land where the Vernon Hill post office is located, a contemporary brick house and probably the white house to the east as well.

William’s property included the land where the Mount Vernon Baptist Church is currently located, directly across the road from the brick house which is the parsonage.

On the map below, the red arrow points to the Mount Vernon Baptist Church which did not exist when William Moore owned this land.

Where star #1 is placed is the original location of the Moore Meeting House, and star #2 marks the location of an old abandoned cemetery, probably permanently lost to time by now.

The person who took me to the old cemetery probably 15 years ago told me that when he was a child, they played in the cemetery, but recently backhoes and bulldozers had all but obliterated what was left. There were at one time “old stones” but none were either there or readable when I visited. True to form, Yucca plants and Periwinkle revealed that this location had once been a burial ground, even though when I visited piles of logging debris were pretty much all that was left.

I doubt this is where William and Lucy are buried, given that this land was sold in 1801. Assuredly, William preached funerals in this forgotten cemetery though as his neighbors were laid to rest.

The cemetery across the road beside the Mt. Vernon Church did not exist in 1909 when the land was split between the heirs of Mrs. I. C. Saterfield who inherited the land from her father, an Anderson. The cemetery was founded in 1936, so William clearly isn’t buried here either. He’s probably buried on the land owned by his father, James, located just to the south.

At one time, pretty much all of this land was owned by James Moore, William Moore or Edward Henderson. Today, the land south of the intersection of Mountain Road (360) and 683 (Oak Level), on the west side of the road is owned by the Henderson family. The old cemetery, probably shared between Edward Henderson and his father-in-law, James Moore is located approximately where star #3 is placed.

We’re fortunate that after William’s death in 1826, Lucy contested William’s 1822 transaction which resulted in him losing their land and sued for her share of the property. She won and the court ordered a survey which was included in the chancery papers.

The acreage doesn’t exactly add up to 200, so clearly either the entire tract does not equal 174 acres, or 25 acres were split earlier and never recorded.

William’s land is probably where the Mount Vernon Baptist Church stands today, given that in 1851, Lucy’s land is referenced as being directly across the road from the Vernon Meeting House. The Vernon Meeting House was originally the Moore Meeting House, located on the north side of the road, probably renamed when the original building was torn down and a “new” one constructed in its place.

Across the street from today’s church where the parsonage stands is where the original Moore meeting house was located, surrounded by William’s 100 acres that he bought from Ransom Day, “excepting the meeting house,” as shown in the photo below on the north side of Mountain Road.

Researching this land further, the deeds explicitly mention the headwaters of Polecat Creek which originates on this piece of land. The deed also mentioned the waters of Birches Creek which is on the south side of the road, so William’s 100 acres spanned the road.

Furthermore, the minister at the Mt. Vernon Baptist Church explained the church’s history, indicating that the “original” church was on the north side of the road in the 1800s, which is confirmed by various deeds.

The headwaters of Polecat Creek are behind the dog house, which sits where the old Moore Meeting House used to be. I can see the church-goers wandering to the stream after the sermon to drink from the gourd dipper shared by all.

Apparently, the “Moore Meeting House,” as it would come to be called, was the predecessor to the “original” Mt. Vernon Baptist Church that was built on the north side of the road and torn down after the church on the south side of the road was built in the early 1900s.

Looking to the east of the original meeting house location today, we see an old house which probably dates to the 1800s, but not from the early 1800s. Those would have been log cabins.

This home with its old barn is beautiful and likely stands on the 100 acres that William once owned.

In 1801, William Moore and his wife Lucy sold this land “except where the meeting house stands.” In deeds as late as 1854 references are made to both the “lines of Lucy Moore” which apparently intersected with this land across the road and where the “old Moore Meeting House” stood.

Buildings in Halifax County aren’t replaced because they are old. They are simply re-appropriated for something else. I surely wish the old Moore Meeting house still existed. It was probably a small log cabin that was built sometime before 1790 was torn down in the 1800s.

I love these old buildings. Many of the original cabins were turned into barns and are still in use.

Driving south on 683, Oak Level Road, William’s land is stunningly beautiful. The land here is gently rolling and occasionally, rocky.

The back side of the Moore land is 663, also known as Carlbrook Road. Although the road is paved, it probably resembles the region when William first settled here and began to clear the trees to farm.

William’s fields. James Moore bought land that had just been patented, so no fields would have existed then. James and William cleared the land for farming. Back-breaking work.

Houses are visible, scattered widely, in the distance. Many structures date from the 1800s and some even earlier. I believe this is the old Henderson property, above.

Historic structures peek at you from fields and woods, whispers from the past.

A misty morning on Oak Level Road, I wonder if William would recognize his land today?

Just down Mountain Road, slightly west of High Point Road, we find a place the locals call Top of the World. Looking north, you can see for 50 miles to the Peaks of Otter in the distance.

All can say is that it’s a good thing that the one lot for sale along Mountain Road didn’t have a very good view, or I might be a Virginia resident today, following in the footsteps of William Moore. I was truly tempted.

Driving down the road, you can see timeless visages of yesteryear. Not much has changed except there are more fields and fewer trees.

What stories these old barns and houses could tell, if they could just speak.

Foundations were made of gathered stones, as were early gravestones.

Who lived here? Did William know them? Are they family?

Pioneers looked to settle on land with a fresh spring, assuring clean water that had not been contaminated by human or animal waste.

Soon the spring formed a little creek, like this one on the old Moore land

There’s every possibility that this log building stood when William lived. Given his role as a minister for half a century, comforting families in times of grief, he was probably in every home in this part of Halifax County at one time or another.

Road Hands

Road hand lists are invaluable sources of information. Episodically, the court would order certain “hands” to labor on the various roads, which of course were dirt and full of ruts at that time. Those lists tell us who the neighbors were. In 1801, we find this court entry:

Jacob Farguson surveyor from Martin’s Fork to County Line, hands James Farrell Jr. and Sr., Josiah Young, Exekiel Foulke, Frederick Ferrell, James Watson, Sherwood Watson, Edward Henderson, John Henderson, Hudson Butler, Arter Slayton, Hudson Farguson, William Moore, Robert Walton, Isac Wilson, William Womack, William Farguson, David Wilson, Richard McGrigor, Bartlett Chaves (listed twice).

Of these surnames, we know that the Fergusons lived in Amelia County when the Moore family did, Edward Henderson is believed to be William’s brother-in-law, Arthur Slayton bought land from William Moore and two of William’s daughters married Slayte men.

The most interesting aspect of this list is that somehow my DNA is connected to the Womack family through the Moore line. Not just once but matching roughly 30 descendants. This means there’s smoke and probably fire if I could just unravel the web.

We don’t know the surname of William Moore’s wife, Lucy, or the identity of 3 of William’s grandparents. Lots of opportunity for a Womack connection. The Womack family is also found in Amelia and Prince Edward Counties interacting with both the Moore family and the Rice’s.

There’s a story there yet to be told!

The Split!

Religion is nothing if not contentious.

The Rev. William Moore was apparently very close to the Rev. James O’Kelly.  Both were probably at the Christmas Conference in 1784 where O’Kelly was ordained.

William was destined to split with the Methodist Church, and probably did so when his friend James O’Kelly left the church. William then participated in founding both a new religious sect and a new church.

On August 4, 1794, O’Kelly and his ministerial secessionists from the Methodist church met in Surry County, VA to organize and form their own church.

From the Pleasant Grove Church, a few miles east of the Mt. Vernon Baptist Church, I was provided with the following information:

At the end of the 18th century, and the Christian Church in America was only 6 years old. At this time Reverend James O’Kelly who had broken from the Methodist Church because of a dispute with Francis Asbury came into Halifax County, Va. preaching the Word. Finding a number of people attracted to his preaching and being interested in the new Church movement called “Just Plain Christian,” the Rev. O’Kelly proposed that a Christian Church be organized, and Pleasant Grove Church, just off Mountain Road, was organized by the Rev. O’Kelly in 1803.

In a flyer for their 197th anniversary, Sunday June 4, 2000, they indicate that their church was established in 1803 and that the first two ministers were Rev. James O’Kelly followed by Rev. William Moore. The first building was constructed of logs and stood just south of the present building. Unfortunately, their older church minutes no longer exist, having departed with one of the previous ministers.

The original building stood where the circular driveway is today, with the steps remaining in the center of the circle. In the photos above, they are to the right of the tree and resemble a pile of rocks. When I first visited, I was told that they left the steps so that the ladies could use them to mount horses or climb into wagons or buggies.

Motivation

Information about James O’ Kelly written by J.F. Burnett, Minister in the Christian Church, helps us understand the issues that motivated both O’Kelly and by inference, William Moore, to split with the Methodist Church.

The question as to whether or not preachers should be allowed to administer the communion, baptize candidates, marry people, and bury the dead, always found Mr. O’Kelly on one side, and the rule of the Church on the other. Bishop Asbury’s insistence that the laymen were to “pay, pray and obey” was always objectionable to Mr. O’Kelly and the divergence increased and the chasm widened, and the point of cleavage became more prominent, so that by the time the General Conference met in 1792 a crisis  was inevitable. By this time too, Mr. O’Kelly had reached a high place in the favor of the church. He had presided over some of the largest and most important districts within the territory then occupied by the Methodist Church, and only two men out-ranked him in authority. He had, in all probability, accumulated means sufficient to put him above the necessity of salary and most certainly he had reached a well established leadership among his brethren. But it was not these that gave him prestige in the conference. It was his devotion to the right, his indomitable will, and his Christian courage. He would have been impressive had he been clothed in rags, and walking bearfoot. The craven had no place in his makeup, either as a man or a preacher.

On December 1, 1789 James O’Kelly sat in the body of the conference where the bishops proposed that a council of presiding elders be convened and strongly opposed some of the measures. Notwithstanding, Bishop Asbury, who was in favor of them, deemed it wise to call a second, but only 10 elders attended and a third was never held. O’Kelly labored heartily in favor of a general conference and to him the Methodist church owes “that essential and valuable constitutent of its polity.” He wrote letters to Thomas Coke, Wesley’s ambassador securing his cooperation, and in consequence bringing these two fathers of American Methodism to the verge of antagonism. Seeing that a crisis had been reached, which he could not prudently ignore, Asbury sacrificed his personal wishes and consented to the holding of a general conference. It was called for November 1, 1792 and O’Kelly introduced a resolution to modify the bishop’s power of appointment to the extent of allowing any preacher who should feel dissatisfied with the place assigned to him an appeal to the conference. This was rejected by a large majority and O’Kelly sent in his resignation and withdrew. Several of O’Kelly’s adherents also left the conference and he subsequently organized a “Republican Methodist Church,” afterward called the “Christian Church.” In 1829 it included several thousands in its membership, mostly in North Carolina and Virginia. O’Kelly focused his efforts primarily in Virginia where he oversaw the best circuits.

At one point, Thomas Coke reported that he had prevailed upon O’Kelly and “his 36 ministers” to remain within the church, but that was not to be. The split occurred and O’Kelly held conferences in his new group of churches.

William Moore was clearly one of O’Kelly’s band of 36 merry ministers.

The General Meeting for 1805 was held at Shiloh church on the line of Pittsylvania and Halifax counties. The presbytery appointed to ordain Rev. Thomas E. Jeter was composed of the following Elders: James O’Kelly, Clement Nance, Joseph Hackett, William Moore, and Coleman Pendleton.

The General Meeting of the Conference was held at Raleigh, North Carolina, in 1807 and 1808.

The General Meeting in 1809 was held June 4th at Shiloh, in Virginia, where O’Kelly preached at Apple’s chapel and administered the Lord’s Supper. Five other ministers were present. It’s likely that William Moore attended and based on the meeting locations, we can gain insight into what William was doing at that time. He traveled far more than most men of his generation.

In 1810, the General Meeting of the Conference was held at Pine Stake church in Orange County, Virginia. It was there that a division occurred due to a difference of opinion in respect to “the mode and subjects of water baptism, which led to the organization of the North Carolina and Virginia Conference.”

Mr. O’Kelly was a strong effusionist. In his book entitled “The Prospect before Us by Way of Address to the Christian Church,” he says, “But to illustrate the figures still further. The ark may be a figure of Christ’s Church; the family that entered into the ark and were saved so as by water, may answer as a figure of household baptism under the gospel dispensation.”

Translated, this meant that O’Kelly strongly preferred sprinkling as opposed to baptismal immersion, and he felt that the Father, Son and Holy Ghost were three separate literal beings, not one tri-partite Holy Being.

If O’Kelly held those beliefs, it’s likely that William Moore did too, given that they co-founded a new church in Halifax County in 1803.

1811’s Virginia Conference was held in Caroline County. As it pertained to religion, it’s a safe bet that William Moore and O’Kelly were probably at the same conferences as long as both attended.

O’Kelly died in October 1826, the year before William Moore. It’s a safe bet that those two men reunited on the other side!

O’Kelly published pamphlets and books throughout his life, including a hymnal. Reading O’Kelly’s writings would probably enlighten William Moore’s descendants about his beliefs as well.

Slavery

Another influencing factor in the split from the Methodist Church may have been O’Kelly’s strict opposition to slavery. He was known as a “heroic opposer of slavery and enforced the anti-slavery law of the church.”

Francis Asbury stated in his “Journal,” volume 1, page 384, “Brother O’Kelly let fly at them (about slavery) and they were made mad enough.” In 1789, O’Kelly published his Essay on Negro-Slavery after having manumitted his only slave in 1785.

William Moore did not own slaves, nor did his father nor most of his children. Ironically, his refusal to participate in that wicked institution may have contributed to his financial issues that resulted in losing his property.

I get the sense that William Moore was a very strong, very determined man.

William’s Trail

In 1782 and 1799, one William Moore signed petitions protesting the glebe land provided to the ministers of the Anglican church. I don’t know if my William was the one who signed, but it would make perfect sense that a man who received no benefits from the Anglican church wouldn’t want his tax money to provide a farm for their minister. William certainly didn’t get a farm paid for by the government. In fact, the petition William signed was to sell the glebe land.

William married dozens of people between 1786 and 1797 when the records abruptly stop, which of course suggests that these couples were also dissenters or members of dissenting families. That makes sense, because at least 3 families have connections in some way to the family of John R. Estes who William’s daughter, Ann Moore, known as Nancy, married in 1811.

The marriage records found at the courthouse may have stopped because when William withdrew from the Methodist religion, he also lost his official “blessing” as a dissenting minister. That didn’t stop him from preaching, and I doubt it stopped him from marrying people either. It certainly didn’t stop anyone from being buried or baptized!

As a minister and respected member of the community, William was peripherally involved in many lawsuits and transactions, typically as a witness. I’m sure as a minister, his testimony was fairly unimpeachable. Probably the most interesting of these cases were the ones for hog-stealing and slander where Edward Henderson (probably his brother-in-law) alleged that someone was “drunk and out of humor.”

William didn’t avoid lawsuits entirely though. In 1795, Uzza Pankey sued William Moore for slander and in 1796, William sued Benjamin Huddleston, Usse Pankey and Stephen Pankey. We don’t know the outcomes, but the Pankeys were neighbors and William had performed the marriage of one family member. William Moore and the Pankeys shared a property line, so life must have been interesting during this time.

I’d love to know what the slander suit was about. Looking at William’s 1819 deposition, he didn’t mince words.

No matter the century, there’s always neighborhood drama.

In 1796, the overseers of the poor bound John Chambers, the son of Sarah Chambers to “William Moore, preacher.”

In 1797, William Moore was a witness for Isaac Medley against Bolling Hamlett, whose wedding William had performed. Isaac Medley is an important figure in William’s life, so stay tuned.

In 1813, William Moore, along with Azariah are found with “effects insufficient to pay taxes,” but this William mentioned could be William’s son, William.

In 1812, 1813 and 1814, Azariah and William are deputy sheriffs, but I suspect this record pertains to the younger William Moore.

In 1814, William is sued for debt, twice. Early Virginia was very litigious.

In 1815, William Moore is taxed for his 200 acres on the Second Fork of Birches Creek, so we know how much land he owns.

Drunk or Insane

The most humorous document was an 1819 chancery suit regarding a wedding over which William presided in 1817 where he opined that the groom was either drunk or insane, but let’s look at William’s own words.

Deposition of William Moore in the suit between Isabel Dodson and John Dodson…Reverend William Moore saith that:

“on the 4th day of July 1817 I was sent for to marry a cupple in Milton (NC). There were a number of people collected together about the tavern. I took a seat in the Pizza and asked who was to be married. Some person replied “you’ll see directly” and in a very quick time John F. Dodson led Isabel Baines to the Pizza (probably piazza). I asked him for his license, he said he had them, and some person replied “you have them not” but that Thomas Turner who has them who had gone up to Jack’s Woods Tavern for dinner. I then told Dodson that he might lead back his bride until I got the license and he said so. I saw Thomas Denaho and he delivered me a lawful license. I then walked into the room the noon? and told him I was ready to wait on him, he led up his bride and I married the pair. I then took a seat in the pizza, there was a decanter of spirits setting on the shelf, he asked me if I would take a drink of grog and I told him no, he then took a drink and pulled out a red morocco pocketbook and gave me a dollar. In the time that I was performing the ceremony he said something it set the poeple a laughtin (sic) but I did not hear what it was that he said. I concur him to be in a state of intoxication at the time of the marriage or in a state of insanity. I have been acquainted with him for several years and I always considered him a person of weak intellects.”

Sworn October 19, 1819 William Moore (signed.)

William certainly didn’t pull any punches. I’d wager the entire Dodson family, some of whom also lived on the Second Fork of Birches Creek, were permanently aggravated with William.

Debt

In 1820, there were 2 debt cases, one by and one against William Moore, but we can’t tell based on the little information we have which William Moore was involved.

In 1824, William Moore signed a debt document.

By this time, William’s signature was quite shaky. He would have been on the north side of 70, probably 75.

This signature really makes me wonder. My presumption was that it was shaky because William was elderly, but the signature on an 1825 document looks quite different.

Another debt was incurred by William in 1825 as well and he conveyed to William Minor a deed of trust for 50 acres of his land.

In 1827, “James Young of Halifax County to Isaac Medley of Halifax whereas William Moore by a certain indenture bearing date March 26, 1822 did convey to James Young a tract of 200 acres bounded by the lines of Joseph Dunman, estate of Jacob Farguson, Jane Wilson, James Moore and Edward Henderson Sr. as described in said deed. James Young did expose to sale on November 25, 1825 and sold for $200 to Isaac Medley.”

On March 4^th, 1827, William’s land was conveyed by trustee to Isaac Medley.

The conveyance does not say that William is deceased, but we know that by November 1826 William had expired because Lucy’s suit states that “sometime in the current year her husband William Moore disposed of some land to Isaac Medley for debt but that Lucy never conveyed her right of dower. William subsequently died.” The court ordered Lucy’s dower portion surveyed and she received 50 acres that included the mansion house.

Mansion house at that time meant main dwelling. I’ve seen descriptions of mansion houses that were 10X14 or 12X16, so not a mansion as we think of them today.

The Tobacco Lawsuit

A suit filed in Halifax County chancery court in 1825 reached back to 1812. In this suit which is clearly our William, based on both the other witnesses and the fact that he is referred to as the Reverend William Moore, he files suit regarding 1360 pounds of tobacco which was valued at $5 per hundred pounds which would be $68, a lot of money at that time.

The original company went out of business and was purchased by William Baily. William Moore alleges that he was never credited with the amount he was owed which was supposed to have been credited to his account.

In this suit, William appeared before the clerk on October 20, 1825. On March 12, 1825, William Henderson stated that he went to Manchester, VA with Reverend William Moore where the tobacco was inspected at Johnson’s warehouse and the amount of $5 per hundred was offered.

On February 25, 1825, William Moore notified William Bailey of the time and location that William Moore Junior and William Henderson were to be deposed at the homes of Nathaniel Wilson in Dansville, VA and at the house of William Minor, respectively.

William signed this notice, shown below.

I wonder if someone wrote and signed this notification for William. It surely is not the signature of the same person who signed in 1824 with palsied writing.

We have additional signatures of William Moore when he signed for his daughters to marry.

Kids and Marriage

The known children of Rev. William and Lucy Moore:

• Thomas Moore was born between 1771 and 1777, taken from the 1792 personal tax data. This is probably the Thomas who married Polly Baker in 1798 given that his granddaughter’s middle name is Baker. Thomas died in 1801 leaving orphans Rawley and William who were bound by the overseers of the poor to Anderson Moore who had also come from Prince Edward County and bought land from Nimrod Ferguson near James and William Moore. However, the Y DNA of one of Anderson’s Moore descendants doesn’t match the William Moore line DNA. In the 1840 census, Raleigh Moore is living beside Edward Henderson.

Raleigh is buried in a cemetery in a very overgrown clump of trees (above) on his land (below) at Vernon Hill where he also maintained a tavern.

• Elizabeth Moore born between 1770-1780. She apparently winds up with her mother’s land and doesn’t marry.
• Azariah Moore was born in 1783 or before and served in the War of 1812, dying in 1866. He married Letitia Johnson in 1818 in Pittsylvania County, having four daughters and two sons. Letitia’s father left her money but stipulated that Azariah couldn’t touch it, nor could it be used to pay his debts of which there seemed to be many. According to the census, one son apparently died young, but James F. Moore who was born in about 1822 survived. In 1880 we find Letitia S. Moore age 79 living with her son James F. Moore, age 58. It appears that James never married, or he married after his mother’s death sometime after 1880.
• William Moore, born 1775-1785, moved to Pittsylvania County before 1815 and had business dealings with his brother, Azariah. William probably married Sarah (or Sally) and had at least 2 sons and 3 daughters. By 1850 William had died, but his wife Sarah was shown as age 64 (which could be in error) along with Nancy Jenkins age 36 (born about 1814), Sarah Jenkins age 11 (born about 1839) and a son William Moore born about 1820, age 30.
• Ann Moore, known as Nancy, born about 1785 married John R. Estes on November 25, 1811 and moved to Claiborne Co., TN about 1820 where she died between 1860-1870.

• James Moore born about 1785 married Lucy Akin in 1817, lived beside Edward Henderson in the 1820 census and was dead before 1830 with no known children. In 1827 James lost his land by debt to Isaac Medley, the same man who purchased William Moore’s land the same year. By 1831, Lucy Akin Moore, James Moore’s widow, had married James Ives.
• Kitty Moore born about 1788 married Francis Slate in 1805 and lives in Surry Co., NC in 1850.

• Jane Moore born about 1803 married James Blackstock in 1823.

• Rebecca Moore born about 1805 married William G. Slayte (Slate) in 1825.

Note that William Slayte is the same person (or at least the same name) that signed the debt document with William Moore in 1824.

Possible additional children of William Moore:

• Lemuel born before 1791, perhaps as early as 1770-1780, appears in 1812 on the Halifax County tax list. In 1830 we find a Lemuel in Grainger Co. TN beside Mastin Moore, known to be a grandson of William’s brother. Sometimes Lemuel is written as Samuel. Furthermore, a Lemuel Moore married Anna Stubblefield in 1804 in Grainger County and died in 1859 in Laurel County, Kentucky. In 1797, Lemuel Moore is found in Greene County, TN beside Rice Moore, William Moore’s brother. I have DNA matches through 3 of Lemuel’s children at what would be (1) 4C1R, (2) 5C and (4) 5C1R if the Lemuel in Laurel County, KY is indeed William’s son. If that Lemuel is more distantly related, the relationships would be more distant. The connection could also be through the Stubblefield line, which may be connected through either William’s wife, Lucy, or William Moore’s parents.
• Isaac born in 1793 or before, assigned as a road hand in 1814 with James Moore and Samuel (Lemuel?).
• Israel born in 1791 or earlier, appears 1 time on the tax list in 1812 the same day as William.
• Mary Moore born in 1775, found in 1850 census living with William B. Moore (the orphan of Thomas Moore and brother to Raleigh Moore).

Foreclosure

By 1820 William was encountering financial difficulties. He would have been in his 70s by this time and probably less likely to preach. His income while not completely dependent on preaching was probably affected somewhat.

William took a loan using his land as collateral in 1822. He was unable to repay the loan, and his land was deeded to Isaac Medley by trustee in 1827 after he died. Those documents do give us a list of his meager holdings though, one wagon and gear, 4 horses, 3 cattle, 12 hogs, 3 feather beds, furniture, 2 bedsteads, all household and kitchen furniture and plantation tools, which he includes in with the land to secure the debt of $560.58. That would have left his wife, Lucy, with absolutely nothing – not even a pan to cook in, let alone anything else. This is the act of a truly desperate man.

However, Lucy never released her dower when he obtained the fateful loan in 1822.

After William’s death, Lucy sued Isaac Medley, the person who purchased William’s land (or debt) for $200 to obtain her 1/3 share of the dower rights and won. Actually, Isaac agreed to allow her the widow’s dower share. We’ll never know of course whether he did that because it was the right thing to do, or because he knew unquestionably that he would lose the suit if it went to trial.

I do know that hard feelings between the Moore and Medley families continued into the 2000s, but no one seems to remember why. As one Moore descendant in Halifax County says, “maybe that explains why the Moores have always disliked the Medleys,” except his language was stronger.

In addition to the actual documents of the lawsuit, we also have a survey showing William’s initial holdings and the portions with the “mansion house” apportioned to Lucy.  She held this land free and clear, not as a life estate and it began right across the road from the old Moore Meeting House.

Given that Lucy didn’t sign, I wonder if Lucy even knew that William had used their property as collateral for the 1822 loan.

While this may have, in part, been due to the lingering 1812 tobacco issue, it surely wasn’t entirely due to that. William owed far more than $68 plus interest would have covered. I can’t help but wonder how he came to owe so much money.

The 1824 debt to William Bailey for $100 as a result of a lawsuit would have complicated William’s financial situation further.

The 1824 document is the only signature of William’s that is shaky. Was he simply that upset? He certainly could have been if they just finished in the courtroom and another $100 issue was added to his already insurmountable debt. Was he an old man who saw the writing on the wall and knew that he was sinking?

My heart aches for William. No one wants to be vulnerable and watch everything you’ve worked for your entire life slip beyond your grasp.

No one wants to leave their elderly spouse of 50+ years unable to receive the basics of food and shelter without having to depend on their children.

William’s other signatures really don’t match each other either, although we don’t know why. It’s possible that his only authentic signature in the last few years of his life was the 1824 debt paper because everyone involved knew how legally critical that signature was.

He could have signed with an X and had the signature witnessed, but William was probably too proud to submit to that indignity on top of the debt indignity he was already suffering.

Y DNA

William Moore had several sons, but his Y DNA signature isn’t found through his sons, but from his brother’s descendants, plus a matching genetic signature from a descendant of Thomas who was probably William’s son.

William’s brother, Mackness Moore (c1766-1829) married Sarah Thompson and moved to Grainger County, Tennessee along with the Thompsons and Stubblefields. Mackness had son Richard, who had son Mastin Moore, shown below.

Mastin, William’s great-nephew, seated, is the closest we’ll ever get to seeing a Moore male. He probably resembled William, at least somewhat.

Viewing the Moore Worldwide Y DNA project at Family Tree DNA, we see that the descendants of James Moore are assigned as Group 19.

In addition to the 3 men who descend from James Moore and the one from Thomas Moore, we see another individual whose ancestor was John L. Moore, born in 1866 in Tennessee and married Lillie Whitaker.

John L. Moore’s death certificate shows that he died on September 14, 1932 in Nashville. He was a farmer and his father is given as Jim Moore.

The 1870 census shows John L. Moore, age 4, with brother Samuel, age 2, sister Amanda J. age 15 and brother William C., age 18, with James Moore, 39, and wife Mary, age 25, living in Putnam County, TN. It’s clear that William and Amanda aren’t Mary’s children, but John and Samuel look to be.

In 1880, James and Mary are living in Morgan County, with James working for the railroad. They now have additional children, Frances, 9, Mary, 7, Lydia 4, and James 1. John’s mother has been attributed as Mary Scott, but the delayed birth certificate for the James Moore whose mother was Mary Scott was born on October 2, 1882 in Sparta, White County, unless the James Moore who was in the 1880 census died.

James Moore, the father was born in 1831 in Tennessee. The name James looks quite familiar, of course. We know that Moore men migrated to Grainger County, but we have no idea if James descends from the Grainger group or whether, if we could simply pierce the brick wall of the identity of James’s parents, we might be able to push William Moore’s brick wall right over too.

After waiting 15 years, in 2018 a new Moore match appeared. The match isn’t exact, but a genetic distance of 3 at 67 markers. That man hails from Scotland, although I don’t know where in Scotland and he has yet to answer.

At least we have a Moore match that reaches back in time before James Moore, which answers unspoken questions about his paternal line.

Questions, so many Questions…

As I review William’s life, I’m left with so many questions.

• How did William and apparently his brothers and father avoid the Revolutionary War? If William was born in 1750, he would have been the perfect age to have served between 1775-1780. The Methodists were not pietists.
• Why did William become exempt from taxes in 1797, and was sporadically exempt for 7 of the 12 years we have records for between 1797-1810?
• Why did William stop returning marriage documents in 1797? Was it related to a disability or the fact that he withdrew from the Methodist Conference? If so, that should have been in 1793, unless William didn’t withdraw when O’Kelly did. However, we know that by 1794, William was involved in the formation of the new religion, and that predates the 1797 discontinuance by 3 years.

My guess is a disability of some sort given the exact correlation with the first tax exemption year. However, we know that William was still attending the annual conference in 1805 and marrying people in 1817, according to his deposition, so the source of his disability might have resulted from an accident of some sort as opposed to dementia, strokes or related diseases.

• Why did William allows the overseers of the poor to bind Thomas’s young children to Anderson Moore after Thomas’s death instead of taking them to raise? Was whatever happened to William in 1797 a factor?
• When William left the Methodist Church, did his new denomination have their own ordination practices? If so, did O’Kelly ordain him again? Was he both twice dissenting and twice ordained?
• How was William, or was he related to the Womacks, Stubblefields and Fergusons? DNA matches suggest strongly that either he was descended from the Womack family. Records of all three of those families are intermixed in Prince Edward and Amelia Counties and earlier.
• The name Azariah is very unusual, yet we find Azariah Baily in 1780 as a witness to a deed with Charles Spradling and Edward Henderson, neighbors of both James and William Moore. Azariah Moore was born between 1780 and 1790. Was Azariah Baily related to William Moore or his wife? DNA shows no apparent matches to the Baily family of Halifax County.
• The name Lemuel isn’t common either. We find a Lemuel Ferguson witnessing a deed with William Moore on Sandy Creek in 1793 when Nimrod Ferguson (Farguson) sells land to Hudson Farguson, his son. Nimrod Farguson appears as early as 1771 on a road list with James Moore. There are several DNA matches to descendants of both Nimrod and Isaac Ferguson, born in the early 1700s, but these matches could be a result of other lines. The name Isaac is possibly found in William Moore’s family but Nimrod doesn’t appear in the children of either James or William.
• I know this is impossible to answer, but I’d surely like to know where William is buried. I’m guessing with his father in the Henderson Cemetery located on private land.

The Reverend William Moore, apparently a tenacious man who dissented not once, but twice, still stubbornly guards his secrets some 200 years later.

______________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on the link to one of the vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• Family Tree DNA
• MyHeritage DNA only
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload
• AncestryDNA
• 23andMe Ancestry
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists for genealogy research

As a woman, I often wonder what will define my life when I’m gone. For our ancestors, it was often a woman’s husband and sometimes, her children. That’s pretty much it.

Of course, today, living on the “right side” of women’s lib which ushered in many opportunities for women, I am much more in control of my own life. I can make my own choices about important and not-so-important matters, without anyone’s agreement or blessing required. Key word is required.

I selected a career, purchased and sold property without my husband’s or father’s “permission” and gasp, I vote. My ancestors would probably be both ecstatic and horrified, depending on who they were and when and where they lived

Social media provides me with the opportunity to share choices and record my daily life as I type into the ether.

For better or worse, someday my descendants may be mining Facebook to see what great-grandma was doing on July 4^th, a hundred years in the past. They’re going to be awfully bored, but it’s the mundane day to day things that cumulatively weave together the threads of our life. Isn’t that really what we long to know about our ancestors?

I want to know that my great-great-grandmother picked green beans and snapped them sitting under the shade of an old oak tree in a heat wave that was “hotter than Hades, like never before” with her 3 sisters while their small children playing in the creek nearby under their watchful eyes.

There might not have been cameras, but I can paint a powerful mental picture.

My descendants, if I have any, will probably have a good laugh at the fashions, automobiles and old-fashioned technology of the time in which I live. I already cringe looking at the styles of the 60s and 70s.

See,  you’re laughing already!

At some point far into the future, styles won’t just be old-fashioned, they will have no comprehension of life today. Our life will be entirely unfamiliar.

Picking 3 or 4 events at random from my life, I ask myself if those few items, with no additional information would truly be representative of who I am? Probably not, yet that’s what we find, if we’re lucky, about our ancestors.

The further back in time we search, generally the less we can discover about any ancestor, and women are more difficult than men – beginning with the fact that they change their surnames when they marry. Add to that the fact that they couldn’t vote so aren’t on voter lists, rarely lived outside the home of their father, husband or finally, their children and seldom if ever made purchases like land. Often they weren’t mentioned by name in wills.

Lucy Moore broke the rules. Not all of the rules of the colonial society in which she lived, but a great many. Probably out of necessity – but nonetheless – thankfully, it created records.

I like Lucy, a lot. She was spunky and I can’t help but wonder if that is indeed her legacy to me.

In the Beginning

Nothing about finding Lucy was easy – not even her name. It wasn’t recorded in any family records and was only revealed in deeds. Were it not for that, she would have slipped forever beneath the waves of anonymity.

I suspect, but don’t know, that Lucy is short for Lucinda.

I have calculated Lucy’s approximate birth year by using the birth dates of her children in combination with the tax lists.

I discovered her death date or at least the year quite by accident, after missing it the first time around. Thank goodness for these 52 Ancestors articles which force me to reread everything about each ancestor.

In 1782, William Moore and Lucy had 6 “white souls” in their household in Halifax County, VA, which tells us that they had 4 living children. We don’t know the actual birth dates of any of her children, but information provided in later census and other documents gives us a range or approximation.

If they were married a year before the first child was born, and a child was born every 2 years, their marriage occurred in approximately 1773.

Looking backwards, we know that Jane Moore who married in 1823 was born in 1797. Her sister, Rebecca married in 1825, so she was likely born before 1805. She could have been born about 1799. If that’s the case, then Lucy would have been having children from about 1774 to 1799, a span of 25 years. If Lucy’s first child was born about age 20, then the final child was born at 45.

Of course, children could have been born closer than every 2 years, and some children probably died.

We know that 4 were living in 1782 and 5 were living in 1785.

Therefore, if Lucy was age 45 in 1799, she was born approximately 1754. The census tells us that she was born between 1750-1760, so 1754 works. It’s possible that Lucy was a little older, but not much older because we know, based on the census, that Jane was born in 1797.

Where Was Lucy Born?

We don’t know where Lucy was born, but I can pretty well tell you where she wasn’t born.

Lucy lived her married life in what is today the Vernon Hill community, at the intersection of Oak Level Road and Mountain Road (Highway 360) in Halifax County, VA. Today, at this intersection, we look south and west over the Mt. Vernon Baptist Church and cemetery which was once the land owned by William and Lucy Moore.

Halifax County was formed in 1752 from Lunenburg County, and the area around Vernon Hills hadn’t yet been settled. Land grants for that area began to be obtained a decade later and it wasn’t until between 1765-1770 that that area was actually cleared and people began taking up residence there.

The families that inhabited this community didn’t move out from Banister Town, as the town of Halifax was called then, or South Boston but migrated from counties like Amelia and Prince Edward which were further north and east where the desirable available land was all taken.

An hour and a half drive today took 10 days in a wagon with no shocks, bumping and jarring all the way in 1765.

Halifax County was the new frontier, a land of opportunity, and the generation to which Lucy’s parents belonged hitched up the wagon, applied for a land patent, and moved. They built log cabins, some of which still stand today more than 250 years later. They cleared the land, backbreaking work, in order to sew small patches of tobacco.

Tobacco drained the land of nutrients in just a 3 or 4 years, creating “old fields” that had to lie fallow for roughly 20 years, so the need to keep clearing land was incessant.

Tobacco was a high-maintenance crop. On top of depleting the soil, it also required massive amounts of labor and sold for pennies.

Where Lucy lived, everyone worked in the fields and everyone was poor. The larger plantations owned by wealthy settlers who also owned slaves were located along the Dan River, close to South Boston. Vernon Hill was 15+ miles away, a day’s ride and there was no reason to go there. Roads were mud pits and South Boston or Banister Town existed in another far-away world. It’s entirely possible that Lucy never once made the trip to town.

Lucy would have moved to the Vernon Hill or Oak Level area with her parents probably sometime between 1765 and 1772/1774 when she married William Moore. Most of the families who bought land in that region were neighbors from Prince Edward County, so there’s a good possibility that she might have known William before arriving in Halifax County.

Many of the people were also dissenting families. The Rice family is recorded in 1759 in Price Edward as building a meeting house for a dissenting religion. Mary Rice married James Moore, the parents of William Moore, Lucy’s eventual husband. William himself was a dissenting Methodist minister, at least in the beginning.

Dissenting was a binding cause among like-minded families.

Marriage

If Lucy began having children about 1774, give or take a year or so, she likely married between 1772 and 1774, age 18-20.

William Moore had been living in Halifax County since about 1770, so it’s likely that Lucy’s family was a Halifax County family as well.

There was no marriage return filed with the clerk, perhaps because as “dissenters,” they were not an Anglican church-attending family or possibly because some of the records were destroyed during the Revolutionary War. It’s also feasible that during the War, people just didn’t bother to file those marriage returns because it was a long ride to the courthouse, the filing wasn’t free and who knew what the outcome of the war might be.

Now, we’re left to try to fill in the pieces of information that our ancestors knew quite well.

Road Hands

At that time, all property-owning men were required to donate one day per year for road maintenance. Keep in mind that at the time bridges didn’t exist and wagons regularly got mired axle deep in ruts and mud.

The first road hand list in the 1782 court records includes the Moore men and shows us who the neighbors are:

John Pankey surveyor from Walton’s Mill path to county line, tithes John Sloane?, James Ferguson, Hugh Ferguson, Thomas Jeffress, Lewis Halay, Benjamin Halay, Daniel Trammell, Thomas Trammell, Richard Lamkin, Richard Thompson, William Yates, Jesse Spradling, Isaac Farguson, John Farguson, Nimrod Farguson, Charles Spradling, Mack (Mackness) Moore, Rich Moore, William Moore, Thomas Williamson Jr. and Sr., Edward Henderson, William Pankey, Nathan Sullins, John Mullins, Wiliam Ashlock, James Moore, Bartholowmew Harris, Benjamin Edwards, William Edwards, Thomas Dodson Jr. and Sr., George Dodson, Robert, Mathis, John Tolles, Martin Palmer, William Walton.

The county line would have been Pittsylvania County which was roughly 5 miles west on Mountain Road

Was Lucy’s family among these road hands?

The Candidates

The most likely candidates for William Moore’s wife were the neighbors, of course. Those are the young ladies that William would have seen most often – at church, perhaps at school if there was one, in the neighborhood and at entertainment events like corn shuckings. Of course, that’s assuming they grew corn in Halifax county. I know they grew literally tons of tobacco and tobacco picking was not a mixed-gender social event.

Of course, the fly in this ointment might be that William began preaching before 1775, which means that he might have met Lucy in a different church someplace on his circuit outside of this immediate community.

However, if Lucy was from one of the local families, the following families, in alphabetical order, were involved with the Moore family by living adjacent or witnessing documents during that time-frame.

Dodson – The Dodson family was in Halifax County before 1774 when James Moore sold Thomas Dodson land bounded by James Spradling and James Henry. I have proven Dodson ancestors, so I could DNA match through those folks. If Lucy was a Dodson, this could be nearly unsolvable using DNA, especially so far back in time.

However, if I have overlapping DNA matches between known Dodson segments and segments that descend from the Moore line, that could be a clue using DNAPainter.

Ferguson – The Ferguson/Farguson family also hails from Prince Edward and Amelia County and witnessed deeds in Halifax County for the Moores for years beginning with Joseph Ferguson in 1773 when James Moore sold land to Thomas Ward.

I do DNA match several descendants of the Ferguson line although not all through Halifax County. I suspect that my Combs family was intermarried with the Fergusons in Amelia County. If Lucy was a Ferguson/Farguson, this too could be complex.

Henderson – The Henderson family is intermarried with the Moores. James Moore’s daughter, Lydia, is all but certain to be the wife of Edward Henderson who was from Prince Edward County and owned land adjacent to James Moore. In 1786, James Moore sells land to Edward Henderson bounded by the “old fields,” James Henry, William Moore, Nathan Sullings and was witnessed by Mackness and William Moore along with John Poindexter.

I do DNA match members of the Henderson family, but some of Edward Henderson’s children intermarried with descendants of Marcus Younger through the Clark family. How I match the Henderson line descendants would be critical information, meaning through those Henderson children who married Clarks or other Hendersons.

Henry – In 1776, James Henry is listed in a deed as “of Accomack County” when he sold land to James Spradling which bounds James Moore’s plantation. The Henry family shares lines with the Moore family in 1774 and family members, including women, witness deeds over the years, including 1778. In 1780, James Henry is listed “of King and Queen County” when he sells additional land to James Moore via his power-of-attorney William Ryburn. Henry family members may not have lived in Halifax County.

DNA matches do not suggest a connection with a Halifax County Henry family.

McDaniel – Henry McDaniel witnessed a deed in 1773 for James Moore’s sale to Thomas Ward along with James Thompson and Joseph Ferguson.

I do DNA match with descendants of Henry McDaniel.

Pankey – James Moore sells land to John Pankey in 1778 intersecting with Colonel Henry’s line, witnessed by Joseph Dodson, Charles Spradling, Edward Henderson and William Moore. In 1780 Moore sold Pankey additional land and in 1781 when the deed was witnessed by William Parker, Jonathan Colquitt and Charles Crenshaw. In 1784, James Henry of King and Queen County sold more land to James Moore against Pankey’s line and Nathan Sullins. Witnesses were John Poindexter, Howard Henderson and William Walter. The Pankeys were involved with the Moore clan for years, including a suit for slander in the 1800s.

Pankey is an unusual surname and I do have DNA matches from the Halifax line.

Slate – The Slate family has some type of relationship with the Moore family. They were in the area by 1770 when Samuel Slate witnessed the original deed for James Moore when he purchased his initial land from James Spradling and then again in 1774. William Slate counter-signed a debt document for William Moore in 1824, and two of William’s daughters married Slate men.

Given the Slate marriages, I expected to DNA match Slate descendants, but surprisingly, I don’t, at least not yet. Either these daughters had few children, their descendants haven’t tested or we don’t share DNA segments.

Spradling – The James Spradling family shared a property line with the James Moore family, witnessed deeds and a Spradling son lived with James Moore for 2 years before enlisting for the Revolutionary War. James Moore bought his original land from James Spradling in 1770 but Spradling patented the land in 1765. However, this patent was the exact same patent filed by Isham Womack in 1762, so a change of hands happened between 1762 and 1765. Spradling witnessed deeds in 1774 and conveyed land to James Moore again in 1778 and 1785.

There is one DNA match that descends from a Rachel Spradling born in 1730 and died in Halifax County. I would expect more if Lucy was a Spradling.

However, I have numerous matches to descendants of the Womack family that I can’t explain.

Stubblefield – The Stubblefield family also came from Prince Edward County. George Stubblefield witnessed the original James Moore land purchase in 1770. Sally, James Moore’s daughter married Martin Stubblefield in about 1787. This family may have been related before coming to Halifax County.

A Lemuel Moore which may have been James Moore’s son or grandson married Ann Stubblefield in Grainger Co., TN in 1804. The Stubblefield and Moore families migrated from Halifax to Grainger together.

I DNA match lots of people from this line, which I would expect with the multiple marriages into the Moore line and migration together on into Tennessee. However, if I don’t match through known Stubblefield marriages into the Moore family, the Stubblefield DNA matches may mean something more.

Thompson – The Thompson family was in the area by 1773 when James Thompson witnessed a deed for James Moore. In 1798, James Moore’s son, Mackness, married Sarah Thompson and his daughter Mary Moore married Richard Thompson, both in 1789.

I do DNA match some people with Thompson ancestors from Halifax County, but this is expected due to the known Moore-Thompson marriages. Ancestry trees suggest that James Thompson was married to an Elizabeth Rice, although her ancestry needs work and could be a different Rice line, not related to Mary Rice, James Moore’s wife.

Walton – Walton’s Mill path had to be someplace close because Walton deeds tell us that William and Spencer Walton owned land on the Second Fork of Birches Creek, the same waterway where the Moores lived. The Walton family was also from Prince Edward County and various members witnessed deeds for the Moore family for years including 1781. In 1781 Stephen Pankey sold land to William Walton which was bounded by Spencer Walton and the Henry line.

I have no DNA matches to the Walton line out of Halifax County.

Ward – James Moore sold land to Thomas Ward in 1774 which was noted as adjacent to Thomas Ward and James Henry. I do have one DNA match to a James Ward descendant from this time-frame in Halifax County, plus a few later Ward matches as well.

The Surname/DNA Exercise

I’m not sure how useful this exercise was or wasn’t. What I do know is that I could probably narrow or eliminate some of these surnames as possibilities if the tester descends from other known Moore family members or other ancestors such as Dodsons or Youngers.

My DNA matches to these people, of course, could be from an entirely different line. Unless the person has tested at a vendor where we can see segments, I have no way to determine how I match the individual. Vendors reporting both segments and trees are Family Tree DNA, MyHeritage and third party site, GedMatch.

This intermarrying grapevine effect, of course, represents the problem of endogamy or less pronounced, what happens with a common migration path over a century or so. We just have no idea who married whom in the past, not to mention the ever-lurking NPE (non-parental event.).

We still don’t know who Lucy’s parents were, but we do know something about her life.

A Preacher’s Wife

Lucy was a preacher’s wife from very early in their marriage, if not for their entire marriage. I’m guessing that one of the reasons she married William was because of his religious zeal. He may have had a very charismatic personality as well.

Without TV or any outside influences like radio, the preacher was just about the only organized drama that existed in rural Virginia. Fire and brimstone was both exciting and impressive! People traveled for miles to watch preaching and to see their neighbors and catch up on the gossip of course.

Who got “saved” and went to the confessor’s bench? Who got baptized? Who wasn’t at church? Who was sick? Who was drunk on Saturday night? Tsk, tsk, tsk.

According to an article about William Moore, in 1805 he had been preaching “more than 30 years,” which means that if Lucy and William were married between 1772 and 1775, he preached nearly their entire marriage which spanned more than half a century, until his death in 1826.

Being married 50 years today is remarkable. Being married 50 years then was flat out incredible!

I wonder if William met Lucy at a church function.

We can surmise from William’s profession, aside from farming, because of the added burden that being a circuit-riding minister placed on Lucy that she was every bit as devoted to their religion of choice as was he. She too was a dissenter, so it’s a small leap of faith to surmise that her family was as well. Many dissenting families from Prince Edward County moved to Halifax and it’s unlikely that her father would have approved the marriage if their family hadn’t been of like minds.

When William was absent, which was probably quite often, especially in the early years, the farm work, the animals and the children all fell to Lucy. Not to mention that she had to be prepared to handle any emergency by herself.

This would make it even more important for her to have family members present in the community.

Lucy even managed through the Revolutionary War, part of which was fought in Halifax County. Without communications like we have today, she would never have known when the Red Coats might be arriving, or what they would do if they did.

Lucy also lived through the War of 1812. At least one of her sons, Azariah and a son-in-law, John R. Estes, both served in the War of 1812.

Lucy didn’t just marry William, she married the church. William was even absent on Christmas. The 1784 Methodist Christmas Conference was held in Baltimore, Maryland and William is recorded as having been in attendance. The ministers arrived and worked for 6 weeks in advance. That 300 mile trip would have taken roughly a month in each directly. Lucy was probably pregnant at the time. We know that between 1782 and 1785, William and Lucy had at least one child that lived. She would have had 5 children under the age of 10.

Lucy had to be incredibly self-sufficient to survive.

I wonder how many of her children were born while William was away.

Halifax County Records

I don’t know if the story is true or a tall tale, but when I was in Halifax County at the courthouse, I was told that the only reason the records were spared during the Revolutionary War when the British marched through was because the clerk or other official draped his Masonic apron over the record books.

This unmistakable message to other Masons would have spoken volumes that nothing else could have done. If this is indeed a true story, that apron is responsible for preserving the records of my ancestors.

Without deed and court records, we would never have known anything about Lucy.

Lucy in the Records

We first discover Lucy in the records in 1786 when she witnessed the sale of land from James Moore to Leonard Baker. William Moore and wife Lucy were witnesses, as was Mackness Moore, William’s brother. Lucy and James both sign with an X in this document, but neither are recorded as signing with an X in others. Go figure.

Maybe they could write, but it wasn’t something they did often, so was difficult. William, of course, being a minister, would have had occasion to write often.

In 1794, Lucy witnessed the sale of land from Edward Henderson to Isaac Barr. The deed says the land shared lines with William Moore and James Henry. William and James Moore were also witnesses. Edward Henderson’s wife, Lydia, is William Moore’s sister, so Lucy’s sister-in-law. There is no mention of signing with marks in this document.

In 1801, William Moore and wife, Lucy, sell 100 acres for 85 pounds to Arthur Slaton, which may actually be Slate, “except where the meeting house stands.” The meeting house is directly across the road from the Mt. Vernon Baptist Church today. Property lines were shared with Isaac Barry and “across the mountain.” Ritchie McGregor, John Farguson and Pheby Walton serve as witnesses.

Obviously, these deeds were signed in the neighborhood, probably by whoever was in the kitchen (or the church, or tavern) at the time, and transported later to the clerk’s office to be recorded. Of course, that’s assuming they were recorded at all.

Generations of deeds were sometimes passed from hand to hand.

Challenges

Records in Halifax County do exist, but they are often incomplete. Tax lists are partial in many cases and they don’t exist at all for some years

The 1790, 1800 and 1810 census are all three missing, a devastating blow.

Significant gaps in marriage licenses recorded, especially around the Revolutionary War, suggest that records are missing.

Chain of property ownership is frustratingly incomplete. It’s clear that not all deeds were registered.

Property transferred by either commissioner or estate administrator or executor whose last name is not the same as the owner is almost impossible to track.

And worse yet, for me anyway, there were multiple Lucy Moores living in the same place at the same time. Lucy is not a common name, unlike William or James. How could I be this unlucky?

Multiple Lucys

I discovered two Lucy Moores and thought I had them sorted out, but as I was writing Lucy’s story, I discovered a third Lucy which meant I had to reevaluate everything.

The second Lucy Moore was added in 1817 when Lucy Akin married James Moore, son of William and Lucy Moore.

These two Lucy’s shouldn’t be terribly difficult to tell apart.

Lucy, wife of William Moore would have been in her mid-60s by this time. Lucy Akin would have been a young woman.

However, the lives of these two Lucy’s were bound together by tragedy. Then a third Lucy was discovered in the resulting court records.

Lucy Moore’s most interesting years, in a very unexpected way, were just beginning.

Lucy’s most defining moments came in the 1820s when she was in her late 60s and 70s.

All I can say is that Lucy Moore was not a well-behaved woman, at least not by the standards of the time in which she lived! I must have inherited that from her!

Bravo Lucy!

Join me for the next article to find out what Lucy did!

______________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on the link to one of the vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• Family Tree DNA
• MyHeritage DNA only
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload
• AncestryDNA
• 23andMe Ancestry
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists for genealogy research

“It was the third of June another sleepy dusty delta day
I was out choppin’ cotton and my brother was bailing hay”

Bobby Gentry’s song speaks to the mundane. The routine, the heat and bored-out-of-my-mindness of late summer.

It wasn’t the third of June but the 20^th of July.

We couldn’t wait to get out of school a few weeks earlier but by now, we were missing our friends. Missing school too but would never admit it.

We were only half-way through the summer and the second half promised to be just as hot and miserable as the first.

I was 13 the summer of 1969.

Days had an interminable, forever, drifty dreamy quality.

Summer would never end and school would never begin. I was both terrified and excited, as I would be starting high school a few days after Labor Day. That felt like a long time in the future on this particular hot July day.

Each day was a carbon copy of the day last, filled with softball, fans that didn’t move nearly enough air, library books, chasing frogs into the creek and on good days, a trip to the swimming pool and an ice cream cone after the work was done.

Mom had lots of rules that had to be obeyed, designed specifically to interfere with my fun. Of that, I was sure.

Yes, another sleepy, dusty, sweaty July day.

That time of the summer, sweating never stopped.

Air conditioning didn’t exist. Windows were propped open for the entire summer.

Our old black and white television worked when it took a mind to – which wasn’t often.

It had rabbit ears appended to the top and on the best days we got 3 channels. Most days, one or none. Some sets didn’t even have rabbit ears.

Television shows were rationed to 2 or 3 a week because TV was just about our only luxury and we needed to make that old thing last as long as possible. Tubes burned out regularly. Repairmen cost money. We watched Lassie, Walt Disney and Bonanza. Sometimes we splurged and watched Tom Jones too, but Tom Jones only made the hot summer hotter.

My Friend Jim

I had been babysitting for several years.

The young couple that lived across the street had two children and soon, her brother came to live with them.

I don’t remember much about the couple or their children, but I remember that brother well. His name was Jim and he was infinitely, infinitely more interesting than the kids, my library books, any chore I’d been left to do and pretty much anything else on any boring summer day.

My favorite pastime that summer was convincing Jim that I had a twin sister.

You see, I had 2 pairs of glasses, and I would wear one white-rimmed pearlescent pair with one outfit, then change to another outfit and wear the black-rimmed pair. In one pair of glasses I wore my hair in a ponytail and in the other, down.

Yes, I was very, very bored and I have no idea just why I thought that was so much fun. Perhaps because Jim confided in both sisters about the other one.

Jim was an older man – all of 16. A lanky redhead with a job and a car. He also had a girlfriend, Cindy who did not like me AT ALL!

Wonder of wonders.

Jim wanted to take me to the drive in root-beer stand – well one of me anyway. We climbed in his turquoise Mercury Cougar with bucket seats and cruised the neighborhood with all 4 windows down.

The root-beer stand served beverages in frozen mugs. Just roll your window up about 3 inches and they affixed the tray to the window. They also served frozen custard and fried tenderloins. Those were the days, I’m telling you!

This Cougar, which is for sale, looks just like Jim’s! Be still my heart. The car, not Jim.

I’ve always been a car buff. I can’t help myself. It started young. As soon as I began drooling it seemed I was drooling over cars, and well, I’ve never stopped.

I liked Jim, as a friend. If you’re a guy, those words are the kiss of death.

Cindy really didn’t have anything to worry about.

I loved hanging out with Jim and his guy buddies. I helped him change the spark plugs and oil. That was one honking big engine.

I enjoyed waxing his car after I washed it with the hose. Yes, sometimes I wore a bathing suit, especially when I mowed the yard. No, not a bikini, mother would NEVER allow that – a modest one-piece with shorts. IT WAS HOT!

Jim often came over to help. He helped me with the yardwork and I washed his car. We both thought we got a great deal.

Sometimes, we cruised the circle drive around the local Seashore swimming pool. There was an open-air dance hall with a jukebox and someone was always there. In the summertime, the pool was the hangout place and there was always drama, every single day.

Flirtations occurred beside the pool, in the dance hall and we all kept an eye out for who was cruising and riding shotgun with whom.

Toward the end of July, the boredom became flat out intolerable. When jobs around the house begin to seem interesting, it’s time to go back to school. I did love to visit the library, and Jim seemed to enjoy taking me just about anyplace I wanted to go.

Even back then, I was already a geek at heart, reading voraciously. Jim just shook his head, but he gladly shuttled me to feed my book addiction.

By that time, Cindy really REALLY didn’t like me.

Jim had an older buddy named Dave who was kind of well, slow. Other people made fun of Dave, how he acted and walked, with a bit of an awkward strut, but we just accepted him. The difference being that eventually Jim and I grew up and Dave never did.

We were protective of Dave and made sure to include him in our activities. It must have been difficult for Dave to age, but never to be able to drive and to watch his friends outgrow him his entire life. I don’t know what ever happened to Dave.

The Stars and the Moon

Sometimes I wanted to talk about things Jim really didn’t want to talk about. No, I don’t mean anything like THAT – I mean space.

Not the space like gapping a spark plug, but interstellar space, science and astronomy.

In 5^th grade, my teacher made the mistake of asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I opined that I didn’t know, so she pushed me a bit. I pronounced that I was going to be an astronomer. The shocked look on her face said it all, but I was innocently oblivious and missed the significance entirely. She wasn’t expecting that answer and tried to gently dissuade me, encouraging me to make another selection, but I was having none of that.

I had always been fascinated with the moon and stars and space since I first saw the planets. Other kids wished on the stars. I was filled with wonder, yearned for knowledge and to go there. I couldn’t get enough – drinking up every smidgen of information like a sponge.

I joined the math club. I ran the library out of science books, reading them over and over. I was the original geek.

I loved to look up at the moon. While other kids were thinking about cheese, I was thinking about what might really be there and how the cosmos worked.

Oh, of course, I would have loved to just be all star-struck and dreamy, but my kind of dreamy was different from anyone else.

Not even Jim or my best friend Curtis understood that. No one where I lived in small-town Indiana would ever understand that.

To me, the moon was a destination, a place of fascination. I longed for the moon to give up her secrets. I strained to see. We didn’t have a telescope.

Soon, very soon, history would be made and I wanted more than anything else to be a part of it.

The Space Age

I was a child of the space age. I don’t ever remember the space program not existing. My early school days were punctuated by rocket launches and news of men orbiting the earth, narrated by Walter Cronkite on the evening news. Walter Cronkite was the voice of America in those days – the “Most Trusted Man in America.”

Often, we didn’t watch the news, but we surely listened on the radio.

Mother seemed to regard me with an air of amusement, like she was just waiting for me to outgrow this phase and get back to Barbie dolls.

That was never going to happen, not unless they introduced Space Barbie – and I don’t mean Space Ken.

July 20, 1969

It might have been hot and dusty, but it wasn’t the third of June, it was the 20^th of July.

Apollo 11 was orbiting the moon. THE MOON!

I had chores to do. My deal with Mom was that I worked and did chores in the morning, but I got to go swimming in the afternoon, so long as I got my chores done, left the pool by 5 and was home by 5:15. She watched me like a hawk.

Mom wasn’t at all sure about our neighbor, Jim. After all, he was “older” and might be a bad influence. According to Mom, all boys were bad influences.

Mom came home for lunch, but then went back to work. I asked Mom if she was going to watch the moon landing, and she said that she couldn’t.

I wanted desperately to watch, but our TV wasn’t working. I was supposed to go to the pool in the afternoon, but Jim suggested that he, Dave and I go to the park, on the way to the pool, and listen to the first man walk on the moon. After the landing, he would drop me off at the pool. Seemed like a great idea to me!

Mom probably wouldn’t have approved, but she was at work.

We didn’t know exactly what time the landing would occur, or actually, if it would occur at all. There were so many things that might go wrong.

Would the Eagle lander separate from the Apollo 11 capsule?

Would the Eagle burn up on descent in the moon’s atmosphere?

Would the Eagle crash land, being  a sure and certain death sentence?

Would there be an explosion when they landed?

Would we watch the astronauts die?

Would they sink in the dust on the moon?

Was the dust actually dust, or was it tiny meteor shards that would destroy their space suits, meaning they would perish?

Would the Eagle be able to lift off from the moon?

Would the Eagle be able to dock with Apollo 11 so that the astronauts could come home?

No one had ever been there or done this before. We had no answers. Only questions. Many, many questions.

What were the odds that everything would work exactly right?

The small park was deserted, probably because it was beastly hot, so Jim pulled the car under the trees the near the swings.

We opened the doors so we could hear the radio and swung on the wooden swings.

As it became evident that the landing was actually going to happen, we all three went back to the car, getting inside, but leaving the doors wide open, hoping for any breeze. Dave was in the back seat, but all three of us were leaned as far forward as possible, as if that would help us hear.

Our sweaty legs stuck to the seats, but we didn’t care.

The astronaut’s voices were gravely and distant.

Then nothing.

Silence.

Not a peep.

There should be.

It had been too long.

Something was wrong.

We looked up at the sky through the windshield, just in case we could see.

Of course, we couldn’t and felt ridiculous.

More silence.

No. One. Even. Breathed.

Minutes that seemed like eternities passed.

Finally, at 4:17, we heard what our ears had been straining desperately for, “Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.”

Oh. My. God.

There were only three of us, but we cheered and shouted and hugged each other. So did the crew at Mission Control in Houston.

We were both ecstatic and relieved.

The astronauts were supposed to sleep at this point, but who could sleep.

They began to prepare for their descent onto the moon and into the pages of history.

One Small Step

We knew that the walk on the moon wouldn’t happen for some time, and we were hungry. The pool closed at 5 so we decided to head for the drive-in and get a tenderloin and mug of frosty root-beer to celebrate.

A couple hours later, back at the house, we coaxed the old TV to life and heard Buzz Aldrin radio to Earth, “I’d like to take this opportunity to ask every person listening in, whoever and wherever they may be, to pause for a moment and contemplate the events of the past few hours and to give thanks in his or her own way.”

We had all been and would continue to be in a rather constant state of prayer. Gus Grissom who burned to death in January 1967 on the launch pad in Apollo 1 was a Hoosier. The Air Force base near where I lived was named in his honor. We were keenly, painfully aware. That horrific memory was still very fresh.

There was so very much to be thankful for on July 20th. The safety of the astronauts, the successful landing and the fact that this kind of “win” meant that no one suffered a painful loss. It was a win for humanity, not just the US.

600 million people worldwide watched Neil Armstrong descend onto the surface of the moon at just a few minutes before 11.

As Armstrong stepped down onto the surface of the moon and declared, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” I was crying. So was mother. I have no idea what the others were doing.

The pictures transmitted from the moon were grainy and unclear, ghostly surreal images, but we knew just the same what was happening because Mission Control was narrating. It’s amazing that we saw anything at all “live.” You can see what we saw, here.

The iconic footprint that would inspire a generation, including one young girl in Indiana and another Jim in Ohio.

We watched Buzz Aldrin plant the American flag.

Half of the televisions in America were turned on and tuned in to CBS News. In fact, you can watch the full 3 hours here.

We clung to every image, every word and every minute. Two hours flew by. Mother had fallen asleep on the couch, but I was wide awake. Dave had already gone home.

Transcendent

After the astronauts entered the Eagle again and lifted off, we clicked off the TV. Jim needed to cross the street to his house, so I walked outside in the yard with him.

Neither of us were ready to sleep, having just witnessed history being made.

We sat down in the grass in the yard, trying to unwind from hours of adrenaline, and looked up at the moon shining brightly.

Jim said that it would never be the same, and I sensed melancholy in his voice.

I too realized that it would never be the same, except my heart was full of giddy anticipation.

I knew that we had crossed a frontier and that I wanted to be a part of the space program more than I had ever wanted anything. I desperately wanted to explore the unknown.

It never, not once, occurred to me that because I had only seen and heard men at mission control that females might not be able to become astronauts or scientists. It’s a good thing that I didn’t understand about discrimination at the time, because I would have been discouraged.

But I wasn’t.

I wasn’t thinking that the moon wouldn’t be as romantic anymore, now that men had walked there. I was dreaming of a bright and exciting future.

I became even more focused on science and technology. Given my propensity for motion sickness, I wasn’t destined to be an astronaut, but I was destined to work in technology and research fields, both critical and peripheral to the space program.

I refused to accept no for an answer when told that “girls” couldn’t enroll in advanced placement classes. I stood my ground when informed that they “weren’t going to waste a perfectly good science seat on a girl.”

Eventually, I would earn graduate degrees in computer science, not astronomy. My contributions would be through data analysis. I would have been one of those engineers at mission control, not in the space capsule, and that would have been just fine with me – but life sent me on a different path.

The computer science field was booming and I managed to land in the right place at the right time to be on the frontier of multiple technology discoveries and programs. After college, I worked for a think-tank, figuring out how to do what “couldn’t be done.” I loved every minute.

By the time we lost Challenger in 1986, I had been gone from Indiana for years and was working for a Silicon Valley company. I always listened to the space launches and I was driving that morning.

I heard the Challenger explode and had to pull over. I was trembling like a leaf and was physically ill.

Indeed, they had prepared for their journey and “slipped the surly bonds of earth to touch the face of God.”

The Challenger disaster followed by losing the Columbia and her crew slowed the space program considerably. By that time, humans had already been absent from the moon for a decade.

With less focus on space, the computer science field propelled me in other directions, but I never lost my fascination with and keen interest in the space program.

Another Jim, Another Frontier

A couple years later, I would meet Jim, the man who is now my husband. He grew up in Ohio and he too was watching and listening on that fateful day in 1969. The moon landing inspired him and changed the trajectory of his life too. His chosen field, after that day, was electronics and computer science.

Our life together hasn’t always been geeky-bliss, but you might say that we somewhat resemble two kids visiting Disneyland during our visits to Cape Kennedy and the Johnson Space Center.

In fact, here’s Jim sitting in Apollo 11 Flight Director Gene Kranz’s seat in Houston where Gene said those unforgettable words that NASA literally lives by, “Failure is not an option.” Those have been guiding lights in my life.

In the past couple of years, Dr. Jim, who wasn’t going to go to college before that fateful day, has contributed in a very unique way to the space program. Unfortunately, I can’t expand and brag on him, but I’d love to. Let’s just say that this has been his geeky dream come true and part of his work too has slipped the bonds of earth.

As for me, I found my way to research genetics though the unusual combination of computer science and genealogy. I’ve spent the last 20 years focused on the frontier within, the ultimate space race. This is where I’m supposed to be and what I’m supposed to do with my life, exploring our personal universe gifted by our ancestors.

I found my destiny, my calling, just as the Apollo 11 astronauts found theirs. I wish I could thank them for their life-altering example and incredible inspiration. They sewed the seed in space and watered it with moon-dust.

I’m so grateful that the younger me had no idea of what “couldn’t be done,” just like the astronauts weren’t deterred by what had never been done. They set whatever fear they had aside and persevered.

Today, July 20, 2019, Jim and I along with the millions of others are celebrating that paradigm-shifting epic event of half a century ago. We’re watching space documentaries, making commemorative quilts, listening to 1969 music and having a 1969 buffet. How could we have more fun?!!

Apollo 11 and the moon landing literally inspired and motivated an entire generation, challenging us in perpetuity to literally go where no human had, or has, gone before.

______________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on the link to one of the vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• Family Tree DNA
• MyHeritage DNA only
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload
• AncestryDNA
• 23andMe Ancestry
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists for genealogy research

In Lucy’s first article, Lucy Moore, Minister’s Wife, we discovered Lucy’s first name in deeds with her husband, the Reverend William Moore, in Halifax County, Virginia.

Married probably between 1772 and 1774, Lucy and William had 4 children in 1782 when the head of household “census” was taken in Virginia, and 5 by 1785. Like most couples, they farmed and had a child approximately every 18 months to 2 years for their entire marriage, or at least until Lucy no longer became pregnant.

Lucy is a fairly unusual name, so it was easy to identify Lucy Moore as the wife of William Moore. However, as it turns out, there were actually two more Lucy Moores who lived in the same time and place.

What are the chances of that?

Three Lucy Moores

In 1817, “my” Lucy Moore would have been about 63 years old. 1817 is the year that another Lucy Moore is added to the mix. Lucy Akin married James Moore, son of Lucy and William Moore. From 1817 on, we have to be careful about which Lucy we are dealing with.

For years it was presumed that the marriage on July 30, 1831 of Lucy Moore to James Ives was the widow, Lucy Akin Moore remarrying, but a subsequent chancery suit reveals that it was not.

No, and it wasn’t the widow Lucy Moore either. It was an unexpected third Lucy Moore.

The Lucy Moore that married James Ives was Lucy and William Moore’s daughter. I didn’t make that discovery until I just happened to read every chancery suit that contained the name Moore in Halifax County in anything resembling the right timeframe. Sometimes suits referenced people that had died decades before.

In the Virginia Chancery Index, I entered Moore and selected Halifax where the final chapter of a long sordid story unfolded.

Hard Times

Everything seemed to be fine in William and Lucy Moore’s family until about 1796 or 1797 when something happened to Reverend William Moore. Not only did he stop submitting marriage returns to the county to be recorded, he was listed as exempt from paying taxes in 1797. The only legitimate reasons for a man in his late 40s to be tax exempt was from disability or because he was an official – and William wasn’t an official. Furthermore, he was listed as exempt off and on from then until 1816 when the tax lists stop.

In 1797, Ransom Day sold William Moore 100 acres of land that was where the “meeting house” stood, although the meeting house was excluded from the sale. In 1801, William and Lucy sold that land.

We know William was still farming because later a lawsuit was filed regarding 1306 pounds of tobacco that were not credited to William Moore in 1812. Farmers took their tobacco to the warehouse to be graded and sold according to the crop quality. The warehouse that William was doing business with was subsequently purchased and neither the old nor the new owner ever credited William for the 1812 tobacco sale.

This ongoing lawsuit seemed to be part of a downward spiral that eventually culminated with William losing his land, and worse.

Financial problems don’t seem to be isolated to William Moore. In 1812, his two sons, William Moore Jr. and Azariah Moore are both found to be unable to pay their taxes. Was this perhaps reflective of them attempting to help their father, or was this a learned lifestyle behavior?

Azariah would have been near 30, if not 30, by this time so he was no young whipper-snapper. Both boys eventually moved to Pittsylvania County within a few months, the county next door, where they both continued living beyond their means to the point where Azariah’s wife’s father stipulated that her inheritance could not be touched by Azariah nor could it pay for his debts. Pretty harsh terms.

By 1817 Azariah is living in Pittsylvania according to the tax list, and in 1818, he marries there. William Jr. settles in Pittsylvania too.

However, in 1826, Aza Moore (Azariah, Lucy’s son) sells 50 acres of land on Birches Creek to Lucy Moore for $100, bounded by William Moore Sr.’s old line, the old ridge path and along the ridge path. Azariah had purchased land on Birches Creek in 1814 from William Phelps which was bounded by William Moore, Edward Henderson and William Ferrell.

My first opinion of this transaction was that Azariah took pity on his mother. However, if that’s the case, then why not just give her the land or for the token $1 typical of close family sales? Was this really a case of Lucy trying to help Azariah by purchasing his land? Were both parties benefitted by this transaction? The price does not seem to be at all under market value.

William Moore died in 1826 after having lost his land, so this may have been the only way to guarantee some income for Lucy. If Azariah had sold his land to his father, it could then have been attached for William’s debt.

William’s son, James Moore lost his land in 1827. He’s not found in the census in 1830 and it was believed that he was dead by that time based on the census combined with the fact that Lucy Moore married in 1831. As it turns out, it wasn’t that Lucy Akin Moore that married in 1831, but a different Lucy.

These events are not isolated and are connected.

1830 Census

The 1830 census is confusing. We know Lucy Moore was the head of household, but we don’t know who else was living with her.

It appears that perhaps two Lucy Moores, mother and daughter, were living together in 1830, when Lucy Moore is listed in the census with the following:

• Female 70-80 so born in 1750-1760 (Lucy, widow of William Moore)
• 2 females 50-60 so born 1770-1780 (Probably daughter Elizabeth Moore born 1790 and possibly daughter Mary Moore born 1775)
• Female 40-50 so born 1780-1790 (Daughter Lucy Moore, born 1792)
• 2 females under 5
• 1 male under 5

Who did those children belong to? Was one of the women a widow? It had been assumed that Lucy Akin Moore was one of the women living with Lucy Moore, head of household, based on the fact that James Moore was believed deceased and they would have probably had children.

Thank goodness for Azariah who sold his mother land. It looks like Lucy was supporting 7 people. I wonder how Lucy came up with the $100 to purchase that land. That would have been an awful lot of egg money.

Lucy’s Chancery Suit

One of the events that defined Lucy’s life is the path she took after William died in 1826. She would have been about 72 at the time.

Women simply didn’t file lawsuits. Women were supposed to be subservient, accept whatever happened to them and not make waves.

Lucy wasn’t any of those things. She stood up for herself and her rights, regardless of who had been responsible for overlooking the fact that Lucy never signed away her dower rights in William’s land.

Had William failed to inform Lucy of what he was doing. Did she object and refuse to sign? Was it an oversight?

You’d think the men who accepted William’s deed as collateral would know better. At that time in Virginia, women had to be examined separately from their husbands and confirm that they did indeed want to relinquish their dower right in the property. A woman’s dower was 30% of the value of the property.

What really happened?

In a chancery suit filed in Halifax County by Lucy Moore on November 30, 1826, we discover the following complaint:

This complaint states that William owned 200 acres of land and that he had signed the land as security for a debt owed to Isaac Medley which could be sold to discharge the debt if it wasn’t paid. It wasn’t and the land was sold, but Lucy never signed away her dower portion to either Isaac or the trustees.

Isaac had “not as yet” assigned Lucy’s portion to her, so Lucy asked the court to do such and to cause her dower portion to be surveyed.

Clearly, Isaac wasn’t going to do this without court intervention, or it would already have been done. Lucy’s “not as yet” was very tongue in cheek.

Isaac’s answer to the complaint states that he agrees that Lucy had never relinquished her dower portion. What else could he do? At that point, neighbors, Charles  T. Harris, Thomas Dixon (also spelled Dickson sometimes), John Ferguson and James Wilson were appointed commissioners to decide what was fair for Lucy, taking into account both quality and quantity of land.

When settling estates, the court typically ordered as property appraisers one person with no connection to the family, one person related to the wife and the person who was owned the highest amount of debt. I wonder if one of these men was related to Lucy.

Of course, this order also meant that Lucy would receive the house. It’s not as if an elderly woman could build a new one and no group of men was going to put a widow out into a field with no shelter. Nor would the court have approved that because the widow would have wound up on the public rolls and that was to be avoided at all costs.

Furthermore, judging from the 1830 census, Lucy was likely supporting additional people.

This entry summarized the proceedings where the court ordered the land survey and requested the commissioners to report back to the court.

Ironically, Isaac Medley doesn’t even fight Lucy’s claim. Just the fact that Lucy was spunky enough to file the suit is testimony about Lucy in its own right. I’m cheering her on!

This case filing is the single most revealing document for William and Lucy Moore. In it, William’s death year is revealed as are the circumstances of how he lost his land.

Furthermore, we obtain an actual survey of William’s land, and thereby Lucy’s. William purchased his land from his father James, who bought land from James Spradling. I presumed that Spradling’s land was the same land that William Moore purchased from his father and set out to find the patent.

I found James Spradling’s original patent dated Sept 15, 1765, part of which was conveyed to William’s father, James Moore. Later, 200 acres was conveyed to William Moore in 1798.

Ironically, this same land patented by Spradling was patented in 1762 by Isham Womack. If I have identified the correct Isham Womack, his father is Thomas Womack and mother Mary Farley who lived in Prince Edward County, VA. Thomas’s mother was reported to be Sarah Worsham. These early families from Henrico County were very intermarried. The Womacks, Worshams, Rices and Moores were all interacting in Amelia and Prince Edward Counties.

DNA also tells us that the Womack’s are somehow related to the Moores, and therefore to me, but I have no idea how. At least, not yet.

It’s enough to make a genealogist pull their hair out!

Lucy’s Survey

In December 1826, the surveyor drew the following and laid off Lucy Moore’s 50 acres, including the “mansion house,” such as it was. Mansion house meant where the landowner lived, not indicating that it was in fact a mansion. Many of these early frontier mansions were noted as being 10X12 or 12X16.

Several years ago, cousin Walter Dixon attempted to draw the metes and bounds of these plats and place them on a map of the area.

These parcels were mapped utilizing DeedMapper. I used to own this tool before my laptop was stolen and I’ve now purchased the upgraded version along with the background Halifax County maps.

Yes, for one survey. Genealogists are crazy aren’t we!

DeedMapper

The day DeedMapper arrived, I couldn’t stop myself until I had figured out where William and Lucy’s land was located.

It wasn’t as easy as I anticipated, because I thought surely that once I figured out where James Spradling’s land was located William’s would be a shoo-in because it would be the same land, or part of the same land – fitting like a puzzle piece. I was wrong.

Someone had plotted and contributed the 2 surveys of Charles Spradlen.

I don’t have any way of knowing whether or not these surveys are accurately placed or approximated.

Spradlin owned 2 parcels, this one in purple is 304 acres.

The next one, just beneath is 162 acres and shares property lines with his 304 acre parcel.

James Moore bought 238 acres from James Spradling, but he also bought another 800+ acres from other people. He sold land to Edward Henderson (his son-in-law) and to William Moore as well as others. At one time, James probably owned most of this entire area – more than 1000 acres in total.

William Moore’s land was difficult to draw because it meandered on three branches of waterways. The only waterways on the second fork of Birches Creek that matched up with the drawing and the survey are where the purple plot is located. It doesn’t close because the open side is the 3 meanders that you can clearly see. This makes sense, because the leftmost border touches his father’s land and in 1826 is noted as Ferguson’s line.

Lucy’s survey, in purple above, doesn’t close correctly. Old surveys often don’t. In this case, William’s and Lucy’s surveys were written on the same page and I had to correct one of the lines that the surveyor had mistakenly written in one or the other.

Of course, Lucy also owned another 50 acres someplace that abutted William’s land. It may have abutted the portion of William’s land that became hers.

Fortunately, with the underlying Halifax County map, I was able to determine an approximation of where William and Lucy’s land was located today using Google maps.

Using these two ponds (red arrows at right) and the creek for guidance, I was able to determine the location of the middle red star at left in William’s survey, roughly outlined in green. Lucy’s survey is shown roughly in black. You can see that William’s land includes present-day Henderson Trail which also includes the Henderson Cemetery, long believed to have been the original Moore Cemetery.

Hallelujah!

Here’s Google Maps aerial view.

The middle red star on William’s green survey, above, is the little grey balloon at left on this aerial view. The cemetery is approximately at the red star. The right red arrow points to the upper pond with the red arrow on the map with the green outline. The green arrow points to Henderson Trail, visible on both maps.

Normally Google Maps doesn’t travel down roads without center lines, let alone dirt roads, and certainly not private 2 tracks.

All I can say is that the Google car must have been lost, because here we stand on Henderson Trail looking directly at Lucy’s land.

Standing on William’s land.

How lucky can I be? Below, looking down the trail to the west.

Below, looking south across Henderson Trail, you can see the Blue Ridge in the distance to the west.

When I visited and stood in this very location, I suspected it might have been James Moore’s land, but I never suspected it was Williams or Lucy’s, nor did I suspect that William owned the land where the original cemetery was located. I thought William’s land was further north, by Mountain Road where the Mount Vernon Baptist Church stands today.

The Good-Bad News

This land is for sale, as in right now.

That’s the good-bad news.

107 acres, outlined in red below, is available at this link where you can see additional photos.

The bad news is that the land alone is priced out of my range at $365,000, even if it is a great value. There is no existing house or mention of a well or electricity having been run back there.

So maybe it’s good news that it’s out of my price range. I’m confused.

Contrast this to the $200 that Isaac Medley paid in 1826 for William’s entire 174 acres.

This is part of William’s land and before that, James’ land.

I suspect that the current day line between the two red arrows is the southwestern line of Lucy’s survey.

This topographical map clearly shows the land features such as the ridges and valleys carved by the streams. Lucy’s upper left corner must have been near the upper red arrow. Her property was between the arrows and did not extend as far east as the little blue pond

Lucy lived here for more than half a century. She walked these lands. She is probably buried just a few feet away in the woods where I could walk and visit with her, William, her in-laws and her other children that did not marry and move away. Her parents probably lived nearby and are buried here too or within a mile or so if I just knew who they were and where to look.

OMG, do I need to go back to Halifax County and just take a look? Could I even get high speed internet here? Is there a quilt shop anyplace close?

This is killing me!

The Almost-Missed Gift

The part I almost missed was written on the yellowed back of the papers that were folded into a neat little chancery suit packet and filed away for the next 180+ years.

Lucy’s death is recorded here. Given that the dates on this suit are not on the quarter sessions boundaries meaning March, June, September and December, I suspect that the chancery court was held monthly. Therefore, Lucy probably died in either June or July of 1832 which caused the suit to abate.

Given that the survey occurred in December 1826, I’m unclear why this suit was never resolved and the land never conveyed to Lucy.

Given that the suit apparently was never entirely resolved, that left Lucy’s dower land in legal limbo which caused me a big problem trying to track it forward in time.

Lucy’s 2 Parcels of Land

Keep in mind that Lucy owned 2 pieces of property. The 50 acres conveyed to her by Azariah and the 50 acres that she was entitled to based on this survey. Both were located in close proximity, if not adjacent.

On August 26, 1831, James and Lucy Ives sell to Elizabeth Moore 25 aces adjoining Isaac Medley, James Wilson and others for $1. Both sign with marks. Lucy could have actually died by this time, or the family was preparing for her death.

Note that the furthest north point of Lucy’s survey is described as Wilson’s pine, line or maybe lane, and we know that Isaac Medley did in fact obtain the balance of William’s land.

This deed strongly suggests that one of the women living with Lucy Moore in 1830 was Elizabeth Moore. It’s unclear which 25 acres this is, or how Lucy Moore came to have an interest in this acreage. It could be half of Lucy Moore’s 50 acres from Azariah or half of her 50 acres dower right. But who owned the other 25 acres?

In 1842, Lucy Ives and Elizabeth Moore sell to William Henderson 3.25 acres for $10 adjoining the lines of Henderson and Medley. This deed was witnessed by Edward and Benjamin Ferrell, families found living adjacent in the census. This acreage, added to the 47 acres sold to William Henderson in 1863 by Lucy Ives and Rebecca Slate stated as land where Elizabeth Moore lived would equal either the 50 acres Lucy bought from Azariah or the 50 she obtained from Isaac Medley that was William’s through the chancery suit. I believe that the Henderson land was to the east and south of Lucy’s land, where Henderson Lane is located today.

This only leaves 25 acres of Lucy’s land missing.

On both the 1851 and 1852 tax lists for Halifax County, Elizabeth Moore is shown with her 25 acres on Birches Creek owned in fee, 14 miles SW of the town of Halifax. She is not shown with either 47 or 50 acres. When I was in Halifax County viewing these tax lists, I didn’t realize I should also be looking for names like Ives and Slate. If I were to go back, I would know to look for more. It’s too bad Halifax County is so far away.

The lack of correlation between the deeds and tax lists is frustrating. Perhaps someone else was paying the taxes if Elizabeth was renting it out to be farmed.

A Previously Unknown Child

When I visited Halifax County 15 or 20 years ago and sifted through the chancery suits, they were being prepared to be sent to the Virginia Archives at Raleigh. The preparation procedure took months into years, and at that time, the only indexing was by plaintiff and defendant. A very nice man, Lawrence Martin, now deceased, volunteered half a day a week reading and indexing each case and slipping the loose and sometimes scattered papers into manila file folders. As the cases were prepared for scanning in Raleigh, additional surnames of people mentioned in the proceedings were added.

Today, using the Virginia Chancery Index, you can enter a surname and view all of the cases that include that surname in the county for a specific date range.

I found Lucy’s suit when I visited, although I nearly ignored it because I didn’t put 2 and 2 together and realize Lucy Moore in the 1830s was William’s wife.

The basement was musty, dusty, humid and hot and I was tired. Photographs were highly discouraged, so I took notes, reams and reams of notes. Today, I would use my phone or a digital camera, but those tools didn’t exist in those days. Unfortunately, my notes didn’t include everything, just what I thought was important at the time.

Thankfully, I reviewed the digital cases at the Library of Virginia because papers had been misfiled and new cases had been unearthed. Lawrence did a huge amount of reconstructing of case files. What a wonderful legacy he left.

The Unknown Suit

One of the most useful cases didn’t include any Moore party as either a plaintiff or defendant, so I had missed it entirely.

In this suit, I discovered a previously unknown child of William and Lucy Moore who gave a deposition in the case Joseph Dunsman vs William Bailey having to do with an outstanding debt involving William Moore.

Prior to reading this suit, I thought that the Lucy Moore who had married James Ives was Lucy Akin Moore, widow of James Moore. James lost his land in 1827 and was absent in the 1830 census. Someone with children was living with Lucy Moore (William’s widow) in 1830 and in 1831 Lucy Moore married James Ives. Subsequently Lucy Ives signed documents involving Lucy Moore. All makes sense, right?

Well, it does make sense, but it just so happens that it’s wrong.

Lucy Akin Moore is not the Lucy Moore who married James Ives.

Lucy Moore gives her first deposition in 1825

The Depositions

Halifax Chancery Suit 1832-034 Joseph Dunman vs William Bailey and Co.

Chancery suits are indexed by the date they completed, not the date they were filed.

The suit was filed on Nov. 30, 1825 and William Moore provided a deposition.

Affidavit of William Moore of lawful age to be read into evidence in support of a motion for an injunction…in which Joseph Dunman is plaintiff and William Bailey & Co., defendants.

Sometime in May 1821 the said Moore gave a delivery bond with Jos. Dunman as his surety to William Bailey and Co. conditioned as usual in such bonds for the delivery of certain property therein mentioned. That in the same month and after giving the bond aforesaid he came to William Bailey the acting partner of the firm and after conversing with the said Bailey and shewing him some papers in the said Moore’s possession the said William Bailey said that he would stop all proceedings on the delivery bond aforesaid, as there was little or nothing due to the said firm from the affiant. This affiant also states that the day on which he gave the bond as aforesaid he sent his wife and daughter to the said Bailey on the subject above mentioned and they informed him on their return that the said Bailey told them that the affiant need not trouble himself to bring the property included in the said bond to the day and place appointed for the sale.

William Moore signs and dates November 29, 1925

This deposition and one from Lucy Moore were subsequently objected to because the plaintiffs were not given notification in advance so they could attend and question the person being deposed.

In the file, we find original paperwork from 1821.

This order from the Commonwealth of Virginia dated April 27, 1821 to the Halifax County Sheriff orders him to confiscate the property of William Moore and James Moore in order to settle the debt of 38.1.0 to William Bailey plus $6.69 costs.

Interest was accrued from March 1, 1818 at the rate of 6% per year.

By the time the sheriff’s fees and bond was added, the total was 45.10.0 and was levied against the collateral William had provided.

I wonder if this means that James Moore had nothing, since all property seemed to have been Williams. Was this James’s debt, or William’s?

William and James Moore asked to retain possession of their property until the day of the sale.

How would this family survive with no horses and no furniture?

I am unclear whether or not this sale proceeded in 1821. In the case file are statements about what happened at the courthouse the day of the sale and that Bailey has said he was not prosecuting.

I suspect the sale did not occur, because Lucy states that Bailey does nothing for 3 years. Furthermore, in 1822, William Moore deeds to Isaac Medley his 200 acres on Birches Creek to secure a debt. I would have thought this was to pay the above debt, but apparently it was not, because that debt continued. In 1825, this land was auctioned, and Isaac Medley purchased it for $200 – $1 an acre. Today part of that same land is now worth $350,000. William must be rolling over in his grave.

It’s also worth noting here that William’s land only surveyed for 174 acres, not 200. What happened to that 26 acres?

In 1824, William Moore Sr. gives even more property for security, and now the debt is to Isaac Medley for $560.68. The property consists of one wagon and gear, 4 horses, 3 cattle, 12 hogs, 3 feather beds, furniture, 2 bedsteads, all household and kitchen furniture and plantation tools.

If William loses this bet, the gig is over, because that’s literally everything in the house, plus the property itself including the house. What a huge, huge risk. William must have been extremely desperate.

How does an elderly couple even have this discussion? Was William stoic, determined, angry, or a broken, despondent man? What did he say to Lucy?

Another deed follows that was exceedingly difficult to read that states that William Moore sold 50 acres on Birches Creek to William Hartis (maybe Harris?). The land adjoined his own, that of Isaac Medley and William Ferrell, Esq.

This is a vicious circle. You can’t farm without tools and you can’t keep the tools without using the land as collateral. You sell some land, which reduces your ability to earn. I think William was very disabled by this time which is probably how the debt became so overwhelming.

This also causes me to wonder about William Moore’s cause of death. He was old and this was terribly stressful, so this could have hastened a death from natural causes. It could also have prompted him to committ suicide. That’s entirely speculation, but his death did follow shortly after he lost his land. We know he was gone by the end of November in 1826.

1825 Counter-Suit

In 1825 William Moore filed a counter-suit and the entire mess drags on until after both Lucy and William have died. The fact that these 2 suits are so closely related also explains why the suit that Lucy brought against Isaac Medley for the land that was sold to satisfy this debt was never resolved and it too abated upon Lucy’s death in 1832. By this time, I’m sure that everyone was just glad it was over.

Based on the March 1832 date on some of these documents without mention of Lucy being deceased, it’s likely that she died between March and July.

In the case file, testimony is included that states that parties considered William Moore to be in essence bankrupt, unable to pay, the debt being uncollectible years before his death. Even if true, how hurtful this must have been for the minister and his wife to endure at the end of their lives when there was absolutely nothing that could be done.

Nearly 7 years later, on March 12, 1832, Joseph Dunman notifies William Bailey that he is going to depose Edward Henderson and Lucy Ives on Friday the 16^th.

This 1821 notice states that William Moore and James Moore owe William Bailey 58.12.0 which is given in English pounds, plus $6.64 bail for the debt.

This now explains the suit filed in 1825 by William Moore against Bailey that reached back to 1812 for 1306 pounds of tobacco for which Bailey had never paid William Moore his $68.

Given that William Moore did not have a will when he died, perhaps one of the most interesting aspects of this suit is the list of his property that he gave as security in order for his land not to be confiscated for this debt.

Levyed on the 15^th day of May 1821 on two horses five feather beds and furniture, (bed)steads – the property of William Moore the sale appointed and advertised to be in Halifax Courthouse on the 4^th Monday of June 1821. A delivery bond with Joseph Dunham security was taken for the delivery of the property on the day and at the place appointed for the sale on the 4^th day of June 1821. The plaintiff by their order stayed all further proceedings. Whereupon the bond aforesaid is forthwith returned to the clerk’s office.

I can feel the level of desperation mounting for both William and Lucy. In 1821, William would have been about 71 years old.

In November 1825 in her deposition, Lucy Moore states that she is of lawful age, so I would take that to mean over age 21, although it could be younger for females. This puts her birth before 1804 which is confirmed by later census documents. Lucy clearly states that William is her father and references her mother, which would have been Lucy Moore, William’s wife. Clearly Lucy the daughter was named for Lucy the mother.

The first time I read this, I thought to myself that perhaps Lucy Akin Moore was using the terms father and mother loosely – although that bugged me. At that time, I thought Lucy Moore in the 1825 deposition would have to have been Lucy Akin Moore. Who else could she have been?

Lucy states that:

In May 1821 a sheriff came to William Moore her fathers and was about to seize property to satisfy an execution in favor of William Baily and Company but the said William Moore induced the sheriff to wait and not take his property until he could send down to Major W. Baily whereupon the said Lucy and her mother went down to said Bailey and he informed them to tell this said William Moore to give a bond for any little articles and that he need not trouble himself to deliver the property agreeable to the condition of the said bond, for that there was a hogshead of tobacco that the said Moore had not been paid for as he ought to be and further this affiant saith not.

Lucy then signed with her mark.

Bailey agreed, apparently, that he owed William Moore for the 1812 tobacco.

Lucy’s 1825 affidavit was objected to because no previous notice had been given, so eventually, she provided a second one.

Nearly 7 years later, Lucy is deposed again.

This time Lucy Moore is being deposed as Lucy Ives at John Herbert’s tavern on March 16, 1832.

This deponent objecting from religious motives to being sworn being first duly and solemnly affirmed according to law saith…

My father William Moore sent my mother down to see William Bailey the sheriff had been to William Moors to seaze property for the debt due William Bailey from my father. I went with my mother. He Bailey said that her father might not put himself to any trouble might give a delivery bond on any little thing and he would stop the suit. He told my mother that he should not loose the hogshead of tobacco.

That comment about her religion is very interesting. I am not aware of Methodists or other religions other than the Amish, Mennonite, Brethren and Quakers being unwilling to swear an oath.

As I read this, I wonder why William sent his wife to see Bailey instead of going himself. We know that William had some sort of issue that caused him to be exempt from taxes, likely a physical disability. Could he not walk or ride? Had he suffered a stroke? Is this why Lucy went instead of William going to see Bailey himself?

Question by plaintiff – Did you or did you not understand from William Bailey that the property to be put into the delivery bond was or was not to delivered by him to be sold at the day of sale or was the matter to be stopped until the credit for the tobacco could be settled?

Answer – I understood a stop was to be put to all and afterwards he waited 3 years before he pushed the matter.

Question by same – Did your father give a delivery bond agreeably to William Bailey’s desire and who as the security?

Answer – He did give the bond and Joseph Dunman was his security.

Question by same – Was William Moore able to pay the debt at that time if William Bailey had endeavored to collect it?

Answer – Yes and double that debt.

Question of the agent to the defendant – Are you not the daughter of William Moore?

Answer – yes

Lucy Ives now signs with her mark again on March 16, 1832.

There’s the answer. Lucy Moore, now Ives, is the daughter of both William and Lucy Moore. Of course, by this time William has been dead since 1826 and Lucy is either dead or dies before July of 1832. William can’t be deposed again and Lucy, his wife, was never deposed at all – although I do have to wonder why. Even if Lucy Moore-the-mother is still alive, she is likely in poor health at roughly 78 years of age.

I do wonder if the financial stress and the stress of these lawsuits contributed to their deaths.

The 1850 Census

In the 1850 census, we find:

• Elizabeth Moore, age 50, so born in 1800 (I suspect this is actually too young)
• Lucy Ives age 60, born in 1790
• Rebecca Ives age 40 born in 1810
• Ann Ives age 22 born in 1828
• William Ives age 19 born in 1831.

Elizabeth Moore would be Lucy-wife-of-William’s daughter.

Lucy Ives would be Lucy-wife-of-William’s daughter who married James Ives in 1831. James Ives has apparently died. For a long time, we thought this Lucy was Lucy Akin Moore Ives but based on the deposition, we know that’s not the case.

While Rebecca Ives and Ann Ives were born before Lucy Moore and James Ives were married, it’s not impossible that Lucy Moore Ives had two children before marriage that are in 1850 using her married name. It’s also possible that James Ives had two children from a previous marriage who are now living with Lucy. A third possibility is that these children belong to both Lucy Moore Ives and James Ives and were born before they were married.

In the 1840 census, James Ives is 50-60 living with a female of the same age, with 2 females 30-40, 1 female 20-30, 2 females and 2 males 10-15. It’s impossible to make any inferences except that the female who was age 50-60 was probably Lucy.

This also tells us that Lucy Moore Ives would have married at age 41, so her childbearing years would have been limited.

In the 1830 census, which was before Lucy Moore (the daughter) was married in 1831, in the Lucy-wife-of-William’s household, there were 3 small children, 2 females and a male under the age of 5. Ann Ives could have been that person. Rebecca Ives, whoever she is, could also be the mother of Ann and William Ives. Ives could be a married name for Rebecca.

In 1850, Elizabeth, Lucy and Rebecca lived near the Ingraham, Irby, Womack, Ferguson, Henderson and Anderson families and beside Hawkins Landrum who is noted as a pauper. He was also a preacher.

In 1851, Lucy Moore (wife of William) had been deceased for several years, but in a deed from Isaac and Martha Medley to William Irby, the land is described as “Birches Creek nearly opposite to Vernon Meeting House beginning an Lucy Moore’ corner, Wilson’s corner, Jacob Ferguson corner, same land Isaac Medley purchased of William Moore, decd.” Unfortunately, either I didn’t record the number of acres, or it wasn’t given. Somehow, Isaac had once again come into possession of that land.

Lucy Akin Moore and James Moore

Following James Moore’s loss of land in 1827 for debt, I find no trace of them in any future records. He and Lucy Akin could well have packed up and left Virginia for distant locations. At that time, both Tennessee and Kentucky were prime destinations.

1860 Arrives

In the 1860 census, we find three women living together 10 houses from Raleigh Moore who lived very near the Henderson land at Oak Level.

In the same household:

• Elizabeth Slate, 50 (born 1810)
• Lucy Ives, 60 (born 1790)
• Elizabeth Moore 58 (born 1792)

I know who Elizabeth Moore is and Lucy Ives, but who is Elizabeth Slate?

Two of Lucy’s daughters married Slate men, but the only one who was married prior to 1810 had a daughter Elizabeth in 1825, so the relationship of this Elizabeth Slate to the other two women is unknown, assuming there is a relationship at all. It could simply have been that Elizabeth Slate was a neighbor that needed a place to live, or she was willing to help care for Elizabeth Moore and Lucy Ives who were aging.

There’s one other possibility as well, and that’s that the census name is incorrect and Elizabeth Slate is actually Rebecca Slate, Lucy’s daughter. The birth year is too late in the census too, because Rebecca married in 1825. So I’m not suggesting that Elizabeth Slate is actually Rebecca Moore Slate, but simply saying that in light of Rebecca Slate’s signature 3 years later in 1863, we know she’s in the area, not accounted for in the census and I can’t find any indication of what happened to William Slate or any children.

Multiple Elizabeth Moores Too

In the Halifax County death records, an Elizabeth Moore died in 1861 and another in 1863.

Multiple Elizabeth Moores were living at this time in Halifax County, so I have to be very careful not to intermix their records.

The Elizabeth Moore who died in 1861 appears to be the daughter of Caroline Brooks who married William Moore, son of Thomas Moore, (probable son of Lucy and William Moore,) according to an 1834 deed followed by an 1861 estate inventory for Carolina Brooks. These two Elizabeth Moores lived in close proximity. This William Moore was living when the 1860 census was taken and his wife Elizabeth was born about 1819 and had a 2-year-old child in 1860, along with other children.

The Elizabeth Moore who died in 1863 appears to be our Elizabeth Moore because the estate of Elizabeth Moore was committed to the sheriff with Hawkins Landrum, appointed and confirmed as appraiser. Hawkins was Elizabeth’s neighbor in the 1860 census.

This means that Elizabeth’s land was conveyed by administrator or commissioner, not under her name which makes it almost impossible to track forward in time. Were I to return to Halifax County, I would peruse the deeds for Hawkins Landrum as conveyor, not Elizabeth Moore.

In 1863, Lucy Ives sells to William Henderson 47 acres for $1175 adjoining with Morgan (William) Irby, William Henderson, Clementine Anderson, land where Elizabeth Moore, decd owned and Lucy Morz. (sic) Lucy Ives and Rebecca Slate sign with their marks.

In 1864, Lucy Ives purchased items at the estate sale of Elizabeth Moore and in 1865, Samuel P. Watkins confirmed the account for the estate of Elizabeth Moore which was continued into 1866. I would love to have those papers! I wonder if Samuel Watkins conveyed her property.

Unfortunately, when visiting Halifax County, I failed to copy the estate inventory of Elizabeth Moore, if it exists. Much of Elizabeth’s belongings probably belonged to her mother, Lucy since it appears that Elizabeth retained the land and house for another 31 years after Lucy’s death.

Confusion

Unfortunately, there are missing pieces to this puzzle that don’t make sense.

We know that three of Lucy’s children were involved with her land, all 3 being daughters, but these weren’t Lucy’s only children or her only daughters. These may have been the children that Lucy felt would never marry and needed to be provided for. But Rebecca Slate did marry several years before Lucy died.

If some children maintained an ownership interest in Lucy’s land, why didn’t others, especially since Lucy apparently died intestate?

Even using the benefit of the doubt situation, saying that Thomas wasn’t Lucy’s son, but her husband’s brother, we still know of several other children.

We first find Lucy in the records in 1786 witnessing a deed. Based on the number of and ages of the children, assuming that Lucy was William’s only wife, they had to be married by 1772/1775 to have the number of children that were born.

We know that Azariah who was born about 1783 sold land directly to Lucy, so was likely her son.

We know that Nancy, born about 1785, named a daughter Lucy, so she too was undoubtedly her daughter.

Children

The known children of Rev. William and Lucy Moore in rough birth order are listed below, with the daughters who maintained an interest in her land bolded.

Lucy’s signature appears on some of the marriage bonds, a very unusual gift from the past. At least, we think it’s Lucy, not her daughter’s signature. Lucy the daughter signed with a mark. We’re assuming that Lucy Moore’s signature was actually her signature and not signed by someone else.

• Thomas Moore (speculative child) was born between 1771 and 1777, taken from the 1792 personal tax data. This is probably the Thomas who married Polly Baker in 1798 given that his granddaughter’s middle name is Baker. Thomas died in 1801 leaving orphans Rawley and William who were bound by the overseers of the poor to Anderson Moore who had also come from Prince Edward County and bought land from Nimrod Ferguson near James and William Moore. However, the Y DNA of one of Anderson’s Moore descendants doesn’t match the James/William Moore line DNA, but Raleigh Moore’s does. In the 1840 census, Raleigh Moore is living beside Edward Henderson. If Thomas is not Lucy’s son, he is her brother-in-law. The fact that Thomas’s children were bound to Anderson Moore raises the question of why, especially since William Moore lived across the road, and if/how Anderson was related. William Moore was apparently disabled by this time.
• Mary Moore (speculative child) born in 1775, found in 1850 census living with William B. Moore (the orphan of Thomas Moore and brother to Raleigh Moore). One Mary Moore signed Rebecca Moore’s marriage license in 1825 along with Lucy. Since there is no marriage record for Mary Moore, nor did she appear to have shared in her mother’s estate, she may have died before her mother’s land was sold. It’s also possible that the Mary living in 1850 is not the Mary who signed Rebecca’s marriage license in 1825. We do know that Mary is somehow connected due to the marriage document she witnessed.
• Azariah Moore was born in 1783 or before and served in the War of 1812, dying in 1866. Letitia described him at the time of his enlistment as 5 feet 10 inches, nearly black hair, blue eyes and a red complexion. His occupation was deputy sheriff. He married Letitia Johnson in 1818 in Pittsylvania County, having four daughters and two sons. Letitia’s father left her money but stipulated that Azariah couldn’t touch it, nor could it be used to pay his debts. Letitia’s widows pension application was rejected, saying Azariah was not on the roles of Capt. Faulkner’s regiment.
• William Moore (Jr.), born 1775-1785, moved to Pittsylvania County before 1815 and had business dealings with his brother, Azariah. William probably married Sarah (or Sally) and had at least 2 sons and 3 daughters. By 1850 William had died, but his wife Sarah was shown as age 64 (born 1786) along with Nancy Jenkins age 36 (born about 1814), Sarah Jenkins age 11 (born about 1839) and a son William Moore born about 1820, age 30.
• Nancy “Ann” Moore born about 1785 married John R. Estes on November 25, 1811 and moved to Claiborne Co., TN by 1820 where she died between 1860-1870. She had 4 sons and 5 daughters, all but one living to adulthood.
• James Moore born about 1785 married Lucy Akin in 1817, lived beside Edward Henderson in the 1820 census and was absent from the 1830 census. In 1827 James lost his land to debt to Isaac Medley, the same man who purchased William Moore’s land. There is mention of a James Moore in the 1830s pertaining to the chancery suit involving William Moore’s debt, but nothing more is known about James.
• Kitty Moore born about 1788 married Francis Slate in 1805. Her father wrote a note giving permission and her two brothers both signed as her bond, indicating they are both 21 or over. Kitty and Francis are living in Surry Co., NC in 1850. They have son Archibald who is 35 and noted as an invalid, Rabecca (sic) 33 and Elizabeth 25.
• Elizabeth Moore who depending on the census was born either in 1792 or in 1800. She apparently winds up with her mother’s land and never marries. Elizabeth died in 1863.
• Lucy Moore born about 1790, married James Ives in 1831. Given that she would have been 41 at the time, it’s unknown whether she had William Ives with James Ives or whether William was someone else’s child. Lucy apparently died between the 1860 and 1870 census.
• Jane Moore born 1800 or earlier married James Blackstock in 1823. I cannot find this couple in 1830, but in 1840 one James Blackstock was living in Halifax County, age 50-60, female age 40-50 (born 1790-1800), with 2 male children, ages 10-15 and 15-20. In 1850, James Blackstock age 68 (born 1782) lived beside William Henderson, wife Jane 53, so born in 1797, son James L. Blackstock age 21. By 1860, neither James nor Jane are shown in the census, and their son James is married with a family. However, in 1870 James Blackstock, age 88, is living alone beside John Blackstock, age 49, probably his son. It appears that Jane probably didn’t have female children.

Interestingly enough, both Rebecca Moore and Lucy Moore sign Jane’s marriage document, in addition to William Moore.

My original assumption was that the Lucy who signed was Jane’s mother, but that might not be the case. Jane’s sister Lucy was born in 1790, so would have been 33 in 1823 when Jane married – clearly old enough to sign as a witness.

Lucy, the daughter, signs with her mark in the 1825 and 1832 depositions, and this document is signed by Lucy, suggesting that this was signed by Lucy the mother.

• Rebecca Moore born 1800 or earlier married William G. Slayte (Slate) in 1825. I can’t find this couple after their marriage but in the 1850 census, there is a Rebecca Sleet, age 62 (born in 1788) living with John P. Sleet and family in Orange County, VA. In the household is a child by the name of Lucy J. Sleet and Rebecca M. Sleet. In 1863, Rebecca Slate signs a deed selling her mother’s land. One tree on Ancestry shows a William Slate born to William G. in 1833 in Pittsylvania County, died 1896 in Halifax, married a Lucy Jordan and had 4 children. This William is shown on the census to be a minister.

Lucy Moore signs this document too, as does Mary Moore. This document causes me to suspect Mary Moore is another daughter that never married.

Possible Children

Possible additional children of Lucy Moore are the 3 individuals below.

• Lemuel born before 1791, perhaps as early as 1770-1780, appears in 1812 on the Halifax County tax list and in an 1825 debt suit filed against him. Then we find Lemuel in 1830 in Grainger Co. TN beside Mastin Moore, known to be a grandson of William’s brother. Sometimes Lemuel is written as Samuel. Furthermore, a Lemuel Moore married Anna Stubblefield in 1804 in Grainger County and died in 1859 in Laurel County, Kentucky. In 1797, Lemuel Moore is found in Greene County, TN beside Rice Moore, William Moore’s brother. There are clearly two Lemuel Moores. I suspect one is William’s brother and one is William’s son. I have DNA matches through 3 of Lemuel’s children at what would be (1) 4C1R, (2) 5C and (4) 5C1R if the Lemuel in Laurel County, KY is indeed William’s son. If that Lemuel is more distantly related, the relationships would be more distant. The connection could also be through the Stubblefield line, which may be connected through either William’s wife, Lucy, or William Moore’s parents.
• Isaac born in 1793 or before, assigned as a road hand in 1814 with James Moore and Samuel (Lemuel?). Nothing more.
• Israel born in 1791 or earlier, appears 1 time on the tax list in 1812 the same day as William. Nothing more.

Of the above, I strongly suspect one of the two Lemuels is William’s son. The other possibly his brother. There is no record of what happened to Isaac or Israel.

Mitochondrial DNA

I have a DNA testing scholarship for anyone descending from Lucy Moore through all females to the current generation, which can be male. Lucy’s daughters who had or might have had daughters are listed below

Nancy “Ann” Moore who married John R. Estes and moved to Claiborne County, TN.

Nancy had the following daughters who had children who could have passed Lucy’s mitochondrial DNA to the current generation.

• Lucy Estes (1812-1886) born in Claiborne County, TN and died in Waubaunsee Co., Kansas, married Coleman Rush and had 2 daughters. Only one daughter, Lucy Rush who married William Bell had any females who had females who have living descendants today that represent Lucy Moore’s mitochondrial line. Lucy Rush had daughters:
  • Lucy Jane Bell (1891-1969) who married Kirk Irwin Gleason.
  • Daughters Austia Bell and Hester Bell are deceased. If they had any children, those children carry Lucy’s mitochondrial DNA.
  • One daughter appears to still be potentially living. https://www.ancestry.com/family-tree/person/tree/26845472/person/26891624310/facts?_phsrc=WpM3563&_phstart=successSource
• Temperance Estes born about 1817 or 1818 married Adam Clouse in Claiborne County. They had 9 children including 6 daughters:
  • Ann J. Clouse born in 1841 but I find no record of her marrying or having children.
  • Mary Mollie Clouse born 1842 married Amos Hutchens, died in Bourbon Co., KY in 1918 and had two daughters, Rosetta Hutchens and Mary Hutchens who both had daughters as well.
  • Jemima Clouse who was born about 1844 and about whom nothing more is known.
  • Sarah J. Clouse born about 1849 and about whom nothing more is known.
  • Louisiana Clouse born about 1856 and about whom nothing more is known.
  • Elizabeth Clouse born in 1858 and who may have married Robert F. Cook in 1882. If she had daughters, they would carry Lucy’s mitochondrial DNA.
• Nancy Estes (1820-1890) married Nathaniel Wilburn Hooper and had two daughters
  • Mary Hooper born in 1853, nothing further known.
  • Malinda Hooper born in 1855, nothing further is known.
• Mary Estes, born about 1830 and died before 1864 in Jackson, KY married William Hurst and had 3 daughters. The only daughter known to marry is:
  • Rebecca Hurst (1855-1899) Madison Co., KY who married Silas Charles Harding and had daughters, Mary Harding (b 1874), Julia Harding (b 1875), Martha Margaret Harding (1883-1980), Josie Harding (1892-1981), Rebecca Harding born 1899 and Bessie Harding (1900-1989) who married Elmer Baker. It’s not known if any of these daughters had daughters.

Kitty Moore married Francis Slate and lived in Surry Co., NC. In 1860, Kitty appears to be deceased, but we find Frank Slate, age 92 in Stokes County, NC, with:

• Rebecca Slate age 46, Mary Slate age 13, Lucy Slate age 8 and Kitty Slate age 1. If these daughters are the children of Rebecca Slate, they are likely Lucy’s grandchildren, assuming Rebecca is the daughter of Kitty Moore and Francis Slate and not a daughter-in-law.

Brenda, who descends from this Slate line shows Kitty and Francis’s children to be: John (1809-1970), Azariah (1810-1850), Archibald (1812-1900), William Harrison (1815-1860), Mary Rebecca (1817-?), Peterson James (1820-1875), Isham James (1823-?), Elizabeth (1825-?), Sarah (1825-1869) along with Jeremiah, Robert and Matilda with no dates. No spouses are given for any of the females.

Autosomal DNA

I look at these segments, painted to John R. Estes and Nancy Ann Moore, Lucy’s daughter, and I know some of them descend to me today from Lucy. Hopefully, one day, these segments will help me determine the identity of Lucy’s parents.

What I can say is that I’ve identified the segments on chromosome 6 as belonging to James Moore and Mary Rice, so they did not descend from Lucy. The rest all come from John Estes or Nancy Moore. If they came from Nancy, then some probably descended from Lucy.

There are secrets yet to be revealed.

Summary

Lucy’s life was a real challenge to unravel. After discovering her first name, it appeared that the only thing we would ever know about Lucy was her name from deeds. Based on what we know about her husband and children, Lucy’s life must have been exceedingly difficult.

For the beginning of her married life, Lucy raised children and farmed while William was absent circuit riding and ministering. That continued until at least 1796 or 1797 when something happened to William to disable him.

I can’t help but wonder if a horse threw him while he was riding. Of course, any number of things could have happened, none of them good. Lucy would have been about 43 when William’s disability occurred. Lucy was still having children at that time and may have had another child, or two. Regardless, Lucy was left in a situation where she had a houseful of stairstep children to raise and a disabled husband.

Beginning in 1793 and 1794, a schism embroiled the Methodist religion, and drama ensued on that front as well. William left the Methodist church and founded a new religion. I can’t help but wonder if that didn’t have something to do with why Lucy and William bought the land where the meeting house stood in 1797, and perhaps had something to do with why they sold it in 1801. For some reason, the meeting house was not included in the deed either time. Why did Ransom Day want to retain the “Moore Meeting House?” How long had William been preaching there? Perhaps as long as the family had been in Halifax County. We know he began preaching before 1775. Did he stop preaching there because of the schism?

We can rest assured that Lucy was in that Meeting House probably almost as much as she was in her own house.

In 1803, William founded what is today the Pleasant Grove United Church of Christ a few miles down the road with another minister, part of a new religion, an offshoot of Methodism called “Just Plain Christian” and then “The Christian Church.”

William’s financial difficulties began during this period of religious dissention and increased until the end of his life 30 years later. It seemed like one thing after another went wrong.

In 1798, their (probable) son Thomas married, but was dead by 1801, orphaning two young sons, Raleigh and William Moore. Those children were bound out to the neighbor, Anderson Moore.

About this same time, William and Lucy sold the 100 acres of land where the Meeting House stood that they had only owned for 4 years. I’d guess they needed money based on the fact that William was disabled for some reason, but there could also have been some religious pressure as well.

William’s tobacco in 1812 was sold to a warehouse that didn’t credit the sale, went bankrupt and was sold. The new owner didn’t credit the sale either. This dispute would never be unraveled in William’s lifetime and this seemed to snowball into further debt.

Two of Lucy and William’s sons, William and Azariah, were in financial trouble in 1812 too.

The War of 1812 descended upon the family, and son Azariah (reportedly) served as did their new son-in-law John R. Estes.

We know that William could still travel, at least somewhat, because he was just across the border marrying a couple in 1817 for which he was paid a dollar. He provided a deposition in 1819 when the couple wanted to divorce what was rather uncomplimentary in nature.

By 1820, John R. Estes with their daughter, Nancy, had departed for Claiborne County, Tennessee, next door to Grainger County where William Moore’s brothers and also possibly his son, Lemuel, lived already. Lucy would never see Nancy or her grandchildren again. That had to be one heartbreaking day, watching the wagon leave, disappearing into a dot in the distance, with Nancy, age 35 or so and between 5 and 7 grandchildren ranging in age from 7 or 8 to newborn, depending on when they left, exactly.

Were those children waving out the back of the wagon in tears, or did they not realize they would never see their grandmother again? And what about Nancy? She surely understood.

In 1821 and 1822, William’s financial pressures increased, with him signing his land over and eventually, all of his personal property as collateral for debt.

Son James was also embroiled in this transaction.

In 1825, William filed a countersuit regarding the tobacco sale and gave a deposition.

In 1826, Lucy bought land from her son, Azariah.

In 1826, William lost his land and everything else, including their beds, in a protracted series of painful lawsuits, and subsequently died.

Throughout all of this, Lucy was a silent partner. Normally, an elderly widow would fade into oblivion, especially under these circumstances, but that’s not what Lucy did.

Lucy took stock of the situation and did what my Dad referred to as, “pulling herself up by her bootstraps,” taking charge of the situation.

Lucy’s husband William had never obtained her permission by way of a signature when he pledged the land for collateral. He lost the land to Isaac Medley, but Lucy regained her full one-third share by filing a lawsuit a few days after Thanksgiving the year that William died. Clearly, Isaac wasn’t counting on that.

That lawsuit in addition to other chancery suits provide us with incredible insight into Lucy’s life, previously unknown children, and by inference, details about Lucy herself.

Lucy was a silent partner for just so long. When William died, Lucy clearly knew what needed to be done, and did it, regaining her portion of the land. It may have been a “good ole’ boys” network, with deeds being signed in candle-lit taverns, but Lucy was not going to suffer the consequences of being overlooked in subdued, complacent, subjective silence.

Lucy’s estate at her death in 1832 consisted of 100 acres of land that she left, one way or another, to her daughters, based on later sales. Not bad for a minister’s wife who had to save her egg money to purchase 50 acres from her son in her own name 6 years earlier at 72 years of age.

Lucy’s life-long can-do attitude, her perseverance in the face of unbelievable adversity and her bravery remain inspirational today, 187 years after her death.

Lucy,  this t-shirt is ode to you from your 4 times great-granddaughter!

______________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• Family Tree DNA
• MyHeritage DNA only
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload
• AncestryDNA
• 23andMe Ancestry
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists for genealogy research

James Moore was born between 1718 and 1721, but we don’t know where. I’ve deduced his age, because we find him noted as exempt from taxes in both 1788 and 1791 in Halifax County and continuously thereafter until he disappears from the list in 1797. The age at that time to become exempt from paying tax was age 70, so he was clearly born by 1721 and perhaps as early as 1718.

Amelia County, Virginia

Amelia County was formed from Prince George and Brunswick Counties in 1735 and in 1754, Prince Edward would be formed from Amelia County.

In the article, The Settlement of Prince Edward County by Herbert Bradshaw in volume 62, No.3, pages 448-471 of The Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, we are told the following:

Two streams of settlers converged up on the territory which became Prince Edward County and met there. The first settlers came from eastern Virginia and their move into the upper part of Amelia County was the natural migration westward of a people seeking more and fresh land. They came from various sections of the eastern part of the colony, from south of the James to the Northern Neck. Some of the immigrants belonged to the movement into southern Virginia and northern North Carolina known as the Hanover Migration. The number of people who went out from Hanover and its neighboring counties during the four decades before the Revolution was almost phenomenal.

The distance from Hanover County to Prince Edward County is about 80 miles – over a week by wagon.

These settlers from eastern Virginia were largely of English stock. Jacob McGehee who came from King William (County)…was of Scotch descent. John Nash who moved from Henrico (County)…was from Wales.

The second major stream of migration consisted of Scotch-Irish settlers from Pennsylvania. These people who were Scottish in nationality had the Irish hyphenated as a result of a sojourn of approximately a century in Northern Ireland. They had been settled there by James I to repopulate a land desolated by the armies of Queen Elizabeth I. Many migrated to Pennsylvania where they settled on the frontier. Indian troubles made life precarious there, so many took again to the weary road and south to a haven in the “back parts” of Virginia.

About 1735 two Scotch-Irish settlements, both under the leadership of John Caldwell were made in southside Virginia, one on Cub Creek in Brunswick (now Charlotte) County and the other on Buffalo River in Amelia (now Prince Edward) County. The Scotch-Irish for the most part moved in companies and made their homes in a settlement and for the purposes of protection, social contact and religious worship.

Bradshaw goes on to mention by name the Scotch-Irish settlers, none of which are the surnames that are consistently associated with James Moore. Neither is the location of their settlement which was someplace in the region of Sandy Ford and Spring Creek, according to the road orders.

A third smaller group were the French Huguenots from Manakin in Goochland County. James Moore is not associated with those names either.

The 1740s in Amelia, eventually to become Prince Edward County, was defined by settlers opening land for cultivation, clearing roads, building homes and forming a community.

Moore’s Ordinary

Of course, innkeepers with licenses for ordinaries and taverns followed, with George Moore receiving permission to open an ordinary in 1748 known as “Moore’s Ordinary” in the town of present-day Meherrin, near the Meherrin River.

Today, a lonesome roadsign points the way to a sleepy, nearly deserted village that was once thriving.

The original Moore’s Ordinary was converted into a private home, then torn down years ago, with only a grainy picture remaining today. You’d never guess that this building, below, was the famous ordinary. Certainly, James Moore would have visited this building, as ordinaries weren’t just taverns, but community centers where all kinds of business was transacted.

A cemetery, mostly with unmarked graves, is all that’s left nearby now.

For a long time, I believed George Moore was associated with our James Moore, but there is no direct evidence today to suggest such. There is, however, some amount of circumstantial evidence, but given the community interactions and intermarriages between the families, it’s impossible without either definitive documents or Y DNA tests to determine whether or not these men were actually related or simply associated.

For example. George Moore’s daughter married John Watkins who was the executor of the will of Joseph Rice, James Moore’s father-in-law. You can read a summary here.

If you are a Moore male, please, please take a Y DNA test and join the Moore Worldwide DNA Project at Family Tree DNA.

First Sighting of James Moore

Hanover County suffered extensive record loss during the Civil War, so early Hanover Records aren’t available, for the most part. I was not able to find any references to Moore families that would have been in the Hanover area concurrently with Joseph Rice. The Rice family is first found in New Kent County, Virginia where Joseph was born.

There is a James Moore born on November 13, 1718 in New Kent County to a father named James Moore, accoring to the St. Peter’s Parish Records. There are at least two James Moores in New Kent during this timeframe, because one dies on July 9, 1718 but another goes on to have more children. In 1729, James and Agnis Moore had son, Robert.  This couple is likely not our James Moore’s parents because the name Agnis is not found in the family and neither are other names of James and Agnis’s children, like Valentine. There is no William Moore, probable brother to James Moore, born during this time in New Kent.

Our first glimpse of James Moore in Amelia County might be in 1743, but I can’t tell if the James Moore on the tax list is our James or not.

In 1745, James Moore is working as on overseer on the plantation of the Randolph’s. The Randolph family owns an immense amount of land.

James was a young man, between 24 and 27 years old. He may have been married when he arrived in Amelia County, or he may have married after arriving there.

According to the tax list, James lived “above Sailor’s Creek” and according to the court records, was ordered along with several others to clear the road from Bush River Bridge to the Chapple.

A History of Dissent

According to the History of Prince Edward County, The Chapple was also known as Watkin’s Church, situated about eighteen miles from Prince Edward Court House (now the town of Worsham), on the Lynchburg Road. By 1760, a significant amount of religious dissent was occurring in Prince Edward County, in part because of the taxes levied to pay for the glebe land of 3 different Anglican Churches, and in part because the upper church at Sandy River had been involved in scandal, including selling liquor at and in church. Watkin’s Church was not Anglican.

Dissenters continues to increase, with some Anglican officials themselves converting. In 1779, it’s mentioned in the vestry notes that the Presbyterians, “were then riding the top of the wave in Prince Edward.”

In 1759, Joseph Rice was given permission to build a dissenting meeting house on his property, which had previously assumed to be Methodist, but there is no history of the Methodists in Prince Edward County at that time. It’s very likely that Joseph Rice was among the Presbyterian dissenters, even though his grandson, William Moore, would, by 1775 be a founding Methodist circuit riding minister.

Dissenting seems to be a family tradition.

Given that Joseph Rice is James Moore’s father-in-law, this informs us that James too was probably not Anglican and was a dissenter himself. This probably also explains why no marriage record exists for James Moore when he married Joseph Rice’s daughter. An Angican minister didn’t perform the ceremony and therefore no marriage return was filed. At this time, only Anglican ministers were authorized to perform marriages, legally.

James is mentioned on the 1745 road list along with Henry Ligon, William Ligon, Alexander Frazier, James Rutledge and Charles Cottrel.

On this map, Sailor, also spelled Saylor Creek is where the red arrows point, and Bush River is where the green arrows point. Both creeks dump into the Appomattox River to the north and are about 5 miles distant from each other, as the crow flies.

Sandy River, mentioned as an area heavy with dissenting families is the branch pointed to by the purple arrow.

Apparently, the Rice land on Sandy River reached to Little Saylor’s Creek, maybe two miles distant.

Apparently the Joseph Rice family was the hotbed of the Sandy River dissenters.

Is William Moore James Moore’s Brother?

The only hint of family that I can connect with James Moore is William Moore, also living above Sailor’s Creek in 1748 in close proximity to James Moore and adjacent the Rice family.

In 1752, William Craddock sold 148 acres of land to William Moore on a small branch of Sandy Creek adjacent the lines of both Matthew Rice and William Ligon, land patented to William Craddock on October 10, 1752.

Other transactions occur, but it’s difficult to identify those William Moores. There is a James Moore living in Amelia County who is not our James Moore, proven by Y DNA testing. That James Moore died in 1772, having son Anderson Moore who moved to Halifax County literally within a couple miles and across Mountain Road from our James Moore. That James Moore also had sons James and William Moore.

In 1754 William Moore became levy-free due to disability or age. We know he’s not a preacher nor a sheriff.

In 1762, William Ligon sells 970 acres to James Atwood of Amelia County on the south side of Sandy River bounded by William More, Matthew Rice and others.

In 1762 William is tithed with himself and also a William Jr, who is likely at that time 16-21, so born 1741-1745. Therefore William Moore Sr. is born 1720 or earlier, about the same time as James Moore.

In 1767, William Moore is taxed with 147 acres.

In 1774 William sells with wife Margaret 60 acres to Thomas Vaughan.

William disappears off of the tax lists in 1782.

In 1784 William, no wife named, sells 75 acres of land to Edmund D. Ford with John, Sarah and Sarah Moore as witnesses (yes, two separate Sarah’s). A John Moore sued Noel Waddell for debt, so this John may be connected to this William. These transactions leave 13 acres unaccounted for.

In 1810, there is a William W. Moor in Prince Edward Co. with 1 male 10-15, 1 male 16-25, female under 10, female 10-15, female 26-44 and 5 slaves. The only other Moore in the county is Molly, widow of George who died in 1798.

Even more interestingly, in 1885, a William H. Moore sells 13 acres of land on Briery Creek to Annie E. Dotson. That 13 acres makes up the full amount that William owned, although Briery Creek is a branch of Bush River, not Sandy Creek, so this could be a red herring.  If this is the same land, it also means that there may be Moores of that bloodline in Prince Edward County, or someone researching them. I could find no William Moore in the census for Prince Edward County from 1840-1880, but in 1880 there is a William L. Moore who is living with a family in Halifax County as their cousin. He was born in 1828.

In 1830 in Prince Edward County, one William Moore, age 40-50 (born 1780-1890) with 3 sons, age 5-20 and 3 daughters of the same age is living in Prince Edward County

I was unable to determine what actually happened to William Moore although I suspect given that he was born about 1720 that he probably died when he disappeared from the tax list in the 1780s.

James Moore named his oldest two sons James and William.

James Moore’s life in Amelia and Prince Edward Counties

James Moore married one of the daughters of Joseph Rice about 1745, as proven by Joseph Rice’s will in 1766. In Prince Edward County, James Moore lived on Sailor (Saylor) Creek adjacent both Joseph and Matthew Rice. Matthew Rice was the brother of Joseph Rice.

In 1746, the court records a trespass case with James Moore as plaintiff and Garrett Smith as defendant. Trespass at that time was different than today. Generally, trespass meant that two farmers were having a dispute regarding the planting of crops over the perceived property line.

The property tax list of 1746 appears to be in neighbor order with James’s “road” appearing to be George Lovall, Alex Frayser, Duglass Pickett, James More, James Rutledge and Thomas Rutledge, Charles Cottrell, John Waddill, Tho Certan and Wtopr. Certain, Richard Witt.

In 1747, although James Moore is not specifically listed, the Amelia County order book shows the following court order:

Joseph Rice, road to be cleared from the place Captain Walker’s old road crossed Sandy River by the nearest and best way to Bush River, the Parson, Thomas Turpin, John Holloway, Richard Witt, Michael Rice, John Waddell and their tithables to do the work.

William Womack, road from Great Sailor’s Creek into the road a little below Crawford’s house, with Thomas Certain, Abraham Vaughan, John Gentry, Jonthan Howell, William Brooks, Charles Spradling and their tithables and those at John Nash’s and Benjamin Runnins’ quarters to do the work.

We find the names of Womack and Spradling here and also as James Moore’s neighbors a few years later in Halifax County. Joseph Rice was James Moore’s father-in-law.

On July 25, 1748, a land sale occurred that may provide a much-needed clue about James Moore’s ancestry.

Abraham Womack of Raleigh Parish to James Moore of Raleigh Parish – July 25, 1748 – consideration 15# – 100 acres on Saylor’s Creek adjoining the lines of John Hall, William Womack and Abraham Womack, being the upper end of a larger tract patented to Abraham Womack on July 10, 1745. Witness Matthew Rice, Thomas Turpin, Thomas Nash and John Nash. Possession being obtained by James Moore on July 25, 1748. Deed ordered recorded Aug. 19, 1748 after Jane, wife of Abraham, relinquished dower.

Somehow, I match more than 30 Womack descendants who also match me and each other. Was Abraham Womack somehow related to James Moore?

In 1749, 1750 and 1751, James is noted as “above Sailor’s Creek.”

James Moore may be associated with a George and William Moore who also lived “above Sailors Creek”, although that may be happenstance. William Moore appeared “above Sailor Creek” on the tax list of 1748 and purchased land on Sandy Creek, abutting Matthew Rice in 1752. There is also a Peter Moore for only 1 year in 1748 in this same Sailor Creek area. George Moore’s land abuts the land of the Randolphs, but the Randolphs were large absentee landowners, so we have no way of knowing if this is really relevant.

In 1752, James Moore witnessed a land sale from Abraham Womack to William Womack.

Abraham Womack to William Womack June 23, 1752 for 15# – 100 acres on the upper side of Sailors Creek adjoining land of Benjamin Ruffin, James Moore and Charles Caython, being part of 400 acres patented to Abraham Womack on July 10, 1745.  Witness James (x) Moore, John (x) Haloway (also Holloway) and John Rice. Possession and deed ordered recorded June 25, 1752.

James also served on a jury and as a witness for Daniel Dejarnett who owed him for 7 days attendance at court.

In 1753, James is again taxed “above Sailor’s Creek.”

This portion of Amelia County became Prince Edward County in 1754.

In 1756, a heart-rending situation occurred as told in the History of Prince Edward County:

A dangerous situation developed in 1756 when a slave of William Womack after having been outlawed took refuge in quarters of John Stanton and defended himself with broadax and darts. He had tried to kill his master and neighbors tried to capture him alive. A group of Abraham Womack, Isham Womack, William Barry, James Moore and William Masters fought with the slave and shot him. He died of his wounds.

I can’t help but feel the terror that slave must have felt, 263 years later. I was unable to discern the meaning of “outlawed” in this context. Was this man evil, or simply desperate? We’ll never know the answer to that, or the backstory. I do know that neither James Moore nor his sons or father-in-law owned slaves.

In 1759, the location of James Moore’s property was more specific, noted on the tax list as between Ligon’s Rolling Road and Sailor’s Creek Old Road, Sailor’s Creek and Sandy River. The Ligon’s owned land on Sandy River and the Rolling Road would have been the road they rolled the tobacco hogsheads down to the Appomattox River. Threefore, the roads would run alongside the creeks and rivers north to the Appomattox.

Sandy River (red arrows) is the eastern branch of Bush River (left green arrow.) The right green arrows point to Sailor’s Creek and I’m guessing that the roads mentioned are between those rivers.

This map of Prince Edward County drawn during the Civil War shows an approximate location, including Rice’s Station.

On February 4, 1760, Edith Cobbs of Amelia County sold 200 acres of land to Joseph Rice, land patented to John Ford. James Moore who signed with a mark, along with Noel Waddell and Jeay (Icay?) Rice were witnesses.

This deed states that it’s the other half of Ford’s original 400 acres and Joseph Rice had already purchased the other 200.

On February 20, 1760, James Moore of Prince Edward County sold 75 acres for 40 # to Noel Waddill on Sailors Creek, part of a tract that James purchased from Abraham Womack and bounded by Ryan, Matthew Rise (Rice), the Mill branch, signed by James Moore.  Witness Jacob Waddill, James Flowers, and Joseph Nunn.

Now if I only knew where the Mill Branch was located. Note on the map, above, Ellington’s Mill to the right of Rice’s Station.

Today, the town of Rice is Rice’s Station and the Mill Branch may be Ellington’s Mill.

On March 1, 1760, Abraham Womack of St. Patrick Parish sold to James Moore 11 acres for 5# adjoining James Moore and the new line agreed on by Abraham and William Womack. Witnesses were Joseph and Icay Rice.

In September of 1760, in a court proceeding, John Nunn wanted to build a mill across Childress Creek and James Moore is one of several men making a judgement.

In April of 1761, Matthew Rice sold land to John Chapman on the Sandy River, bounded by Philip Ryon, Thomas Turpin and Matthew Rice, witnessed by James Moore who signed with an “M”.

On April 13^th, the same day, Samuel Goode of Prince Edward County sold 330 acres of land to Charles Rice, on the upper side of Saylor’s Creek granted to the said Samuel by patent dated July 13, 1760 and bounded by Joseph Rice, Abraham Womack, the old line of Matthew Rice, William Barnes, Noel Waddil. Witnesses were Obadiah Claybrook, Matthew Rice, and James (M his mark) Moore.

This deed too may be very important.

James Moore named his son born about 1765 Mackness. That unusual name is associated with the Rowlett family in Prince Edward County, with one Mackness Rowlett born about 1741 being the son of John Rowlett who died in 1776 with a will. The name Mackness may well reach back in time to the marriage of one John Goode and Frances Mackarness. Samuel Goode is reported, but not verified to be their grandson.

James Moore didn’t just pick the name Mackness out of the sky. There had to be a reason for James or his wife to select Mackness. Probably the same or a similar reason that John Rowlett named his son Mackness in 1741.

In November 1761, James Moore witnessed a deed from John Maynard to William Spicer for land on the lower side of Sailor’s Creek.

A year later, on December 13, 1762, Henry Barksdale sold 25 acres to Noel Waddell on both sides of Great Sailor’s Creek bounded by a road in James Moore’s line and also mentions Joseph Nunn. Witnesses were James (M) Moore, Phil Holcombe and Grimes Holcombe.

Between this information and the tax lists, it looks like James Moore owned land on a road on the north side of Sailor’s Creek, and probably adjacent to the Creek.

In February 1764, Noel Waddell sells to Francis Anderson of Amelia County, 250 acres and 203 acres on the lower side of Great Sailor’s Creek patented July 10, 1755. John Stanton bought it from Abraham Womack “once owned” it and James (M) Moore witnessed again.

By this time, James Moore is more than 40 years old, possibly as old as 47. He owns a total of 36 acres of land. He has probably been married for 25 years or so, which makes the next item particularly significant and perhaps a turning point in his life.

Joseph Rice Dies

In 1766, James Moore’s father-in-law, Joseph Rice died, with a will that is recorded in the Prince Edward County Will book 1, page 80. Bless his heart!

In the name of God Amen I Joseph Rice of Prince Edward County being indisposed in body but of perfect mind and memory praised be to God for the same do make and constitute and ordain this and none other to be my last will and testament in manner and form following.

To my son-in-law James Moore 100 acres land whereon he now lives to be divided from the tract I live on by a line that was run by Robert Farguson to him and his heirs forever.

To my well beloved son John Rice 100 acres of land joyning the aforesaid 100 of Moores and also divided by the said Fargusons line and the tract whereon I now live to him and his heirs forever.

To my well beloved son William Rice the East part of the tract of land I now live on to be divided beginning on a line run by Robert Farguson on my Spring Branch…containing 100 acres more or less to him and his heirs forever.

To my well beloved son Charles Rice the remainder part of my land whereon I now live after the death of my well loved wife to him and his heirs forever.

To my well beloved son David Rice 133 acres of land whereon he now lives to him and his heirs forever

To my well beloved son Joseph Rice 133 acres of land whereon he now lives to him and his heirs forever.

To my well beloved sons John, William and Charles as they become of age 21 each a feather bed and furniture and one cow and calf to them and their heirs forever if the estate can afford it.

To my well beloved daughter Mary Rice one feather bed and furniture and one cow and calf.

Well beloved wife Rachel remainder of personal estate during her natural life.

Sons John, William and Charles after decease of wife, 7 # current money of Virginia.

Rest of estate divided equally after decease of wife. Wife Rachel and David Rice and John Watkins executors.  December 1765.

Signed with mark (long I with 3 crossmarks) witness John Watkins, William Womack, Charles Rice – Probated June 16, 1766.

This will tells us that in addition to the 36 acres that James Moore owns, he has been living on and farming 100 acres of his father-in-law’s land. Now James owns a total of 136 acres.

His land also abuts the Farguson land, another name we’ll see in Halifax County living adjacent James Moore.

The Problem with the Will

The problem with the will is that James Moore’s wife is named Mary according to later deeds in Halifax County. However, in Joseph Rice’s will, he specifically says that James Moore is his son-in-law, and he mentions his daughter Mary separately with the Rice surname, giving the impression that Mary Rice is not married.

• Did James Moore marry two of Joseph’s daughters? First, an unnamed daughter, and eventually, Mary Rice?
• Did James Moore marry one of Joseph Rice’s daughters who died after 1766, and James Moore remarried to a Mary, last name unknown, before his wife’s name appears in Halifax County records a few years later?
• Is it possible that Joseph Rice’s daughter that was married to James Moore had already died before Joseph died? If that were the case, I’d presume that the land would have been left to James Moore’s children, not James himself.

We know from various records and sources (including DNA matches) that indeed, this James Moore is the James Moore that was Joseph Rice’s son-in-law, but why did Joseph refer to his daughter as Mary Rice if she was married to James Moore who had been mentioned previously in the will?

James Moore had a son named Rice Moore, born about 1762 – so the evidence is compelling that indeed James was married to one of Joseph Rice’s daughters.

James Moore’s daughter, Lydia Moore, born about 1746 married Edward Henderson and named a son Rice Henderson, so clearly Lydia’s mother was a Rice.

In 1767, on the tax list, James Moore is listed with 136 acres of land, two tithes, one of which is James Moore Jr. This means that James Jr. is over the age of 16 and possibly over the age of 21, so was born before 1750.

What’s Next?

James is nearing 50 years of age, the half century mark. You’d think he’d be interested in farming his land and maybe beginning to relax a little. By this time, he had grandchildren to enjoy. Perhaps his wife wanted to help care for her mother.

However, that’s not at all what happened. By 1770, James Moore and family had packed up everything they owned into a wagon, apparently sold their land in Prince Edward County, although I’ve never found a deed, and migrated with a community once again. This time, to what is now the Vernon Hill/Oak Level area of western Halifax County where he settled among the Spradlings, Womacks and Fargusons.

The curtain drops on Act 1 of James Moore’s life, a half-century in the making. What will Act 2 bring?

______________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• Family Tree DNA
• MyHeritage DNA only
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload
• AncestryDNA
• 23andMe Ancestry
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists for genealogy research

We don’t know where James Moore was born, but as a young man, we probably find James Moore in 1743 in Amelia County as an influx of settlers opened the land for cultivation. By about 1745, James had married a daughter of Joseph Rice, possibly Mary.

James’s married life was spent in the part of Amelia County that became Prince Edward County. He purchased land and in 1766, when his father-in-law died, James inherited 100 acres of the land where Joseph Rice lived and where James was already living, according to the will.

In 1767, James is noted on the tax list with the land he had purchased as well as his inherited land, but James Moore and his wife pulled up stakes shortly thereafter and moved on to the next frontier.

By this time, James was about 50 years old, so no spring chicken. If he was going to move and keep all his children with him in the new location, it was time. To wait much longer would have meant that some of his children would marry and not accompany him to the new land. James packed everyone and everything they owned into a wagon and set off for untold adventures on a new frontier, 71 miles distant.

Halifax County, Virginia

By 1770, James Moore had moved to Halifax County, Virginia, along with a great number of other Prince Edward County families. Perhaps it was the death of his father-in-law that motivated the move. Maybe James felt he could sell his land in Prince Edward and purchase more land for the same amount of money in Halifax County. Or perhaps his wife wasn’t resistant to moving after her father died, although her (presumed) mother, Rachel was still living at that time.

Rachel is only mentioned one more time. On the 1767 tax list, she is listed with John Rice. After that, nothing, so she may have died about this time too.

It’s likely that James originally migrated from the Hanover County region to Amelia County – at least that’s where Joseph Rice and many of the families who settled in Amelia County originated.

The second half of his journey took him on to the area of present-day Vernon Hill in Halifax County

Land

The first thing James Moore did in Halifax County appears to have been to purchase land.

I created this table to attempt to track his land purchases and sales.

Unfortunately, a reconciliation of the land purchased and sold by James Moore bears no resemblance to the tax lists of the era. The best I can figure is that someone else was paying the tax on some of the land.

To say that James’ land ownership is confusing is an understatement. Generally, when someone dies, their land is sold through probate, but apparently, not James. In 1798, James sells land to William, his son, and based on the transactions we have, James still owned 363 acres at that time.

In 1797, James disappeared from the personal tax lists, but his land remains. Did James leave at this point with his sons for East Tennessee? Did he tackle yet a third frontier at age 80?

There are two James Moores listed on the Grainger tax list in 1799, but our James would have been too old to be taxed, and his sons were not listed on that tax list.

Was his “last act” to sell land to his son, the Reverend William Moore, who had become somehow disabled?

James would have been roughly 80 years old. Did he die? If so, why was there no estate probated? He clearly still owned land, or, he transferred deeds that are not recorded.

Using the tax lists and not the land purchases/sales, James still owned between 120 and 50 acres of land. I can find no records of his land ever being sold. The deed was likely passed hand to hand and never registered until much later.

One thing we do know for sure, James was not on the qualified voter list of Halifax County in 1800, so he was assuredly dead or gone.

Tobacco is King

Why would James Moore have wanted so much land? It would have had to be cleared, a backbreaking prospect and he had to pay taxes on it whether it was cleared or not.

Virginia was a tobacco producing state. Tobacco depletes the nutrients in the soil quickly and new land has to be cleared for cultivation every 4 or 5 years, allowing the “old fields” to rest for two decades before they can be reused.

Brantley Henderson, born in 1884, a descendant of James Moore’s daughter Lydia, penned Only the Happy Memories, published in 1951. In the book, Brantley talks about tobacco farming in the 1880s and 1890s when he was young.

The methodologies hadn’t changed much in the 100 years since James Moore was cultivating his land on the second fork of Birches Creek.

As Brantley says, “There was always a lot of work to do.”

The hottest work I ever did was helping burn plantbeds. In those days, it would seem that farmers purposely did things the hard way. They literally cooked the plots of ground, usually about 50 by 50 feet, where tobacco plants were to be raised. The idea was that the fire would kill the seeds of both grass and weeds, but it took them a long time to learn that this didn’t happen.

A plot of ground with southern exposure was always selected. Across its highest end logs were stacked 6 feet high and 15 feet wide. Leaves, brush and lightwood knots were put under them and set afire. Two hours later the logs were pulled to uncooked ground. For moving them, we used poles 20 feet long which had iron hooks fastened to their ends. Always, it seemed, the wind blew the smoke, heat and sparks in our direction.

After the ground had been cooked, it was spaded, fertilized and raked. Then tobacco seeds were broadcast over its surface and the whole bed covered with cheesecloth. A few weeks later, our backs and arms grew weary from picking grass and weeds from around the tender tobacco plants.

Cultivation of Tobacco at James town, by Signed A.W. in lower left – Page 45 of A School History of the United States, from the Discovery of America to the Year 1878 (1878); from a digital scan from the Internet Archive, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=31157197

The hardest job anyone had to do in the cultivation of tobacco was in planting it. The rows had previously been thrown up with turning plows and raked and pressed down with hoes into hills, 3 feet apart. After a soaking rain the backbreaking work began. Pa selected the plants and carefully put them in baskets. Blue Dick carried them from the beds to the fields. Colored girls walked along dropping the plants on the hills.

Using hand planters which were nothing more than lightwood knots with one of the ends trimmed to fit the palms of hands, and the other a sharp point, the drudgery began. The depths of the holes we made depended upon the size of the plants, for they had to be buried hear their buds. The stick was again plunged into the ground about an inch from the plants and the soil pressed gently against their roots. Our backs were bent from one end of the rows to the other.

Tobacco raising in those days was a never-ending job. After Christmas the cutting and log-rolling matches were held. The logs, brush and leaves were burned. Then the saplings and other underbrush were grubbed, thrown into piles and set afire. The ground was ready for the colter, but many of the roots were so thick the plow couldn’t break them and they had to be chopped with axes. Thousands of roots were removed this way and picked up with pitchforks or by hand and stacked and burned. Next came the turning plows which unearthed as many roots as had been destroyed before.

The tobacco curing barns were repaired, some received new roofs and others needed chinking and redaubing. The flues were removed and painted.

The stocks over which cut tobacco was thrown, or on which pulled leaves were strung to dry, had to be replenished. About 50 cords of wood with which tobacco was cured was cut, split and hauled to the barns.

By Wjkimmerle, William J Kimmerle – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4618788

By then it was early spring and time for burning the plantbeds.

The old land on which tobacco was to be planted was turned, dragged, furrowed, and fertilized, thrown into rows and the hills clapped. While waiting for a rain before planting, we might have had a few days rest, but Pa always found something else for us to do.

Two weeks after it was planted, the young tobacco was plowed and worked with hoes. Before one field was finished the others needed the same thing. About this time worms tried to eat it up. Some of the old ones were 4 inches long and as thick as a cigar. Those fellows could hunch their backs and spit tobacco juice as far and accurately as the farmers who sat around the stove in Gus Mitchell’s store in the wintertime. And they would bite, too. We had to sneak upon them and grab the backs of their heads to squash them.

By Daniel Schwen – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11470387

Both sides of each leaf had to be examined for small worms and eggs.

By © Derek Ramsey / derekramsey.com, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1397609

Before sprays were invented it was a constant fight between men and worms, and many times the worms won the battle. By this time, we had topped the plants and the confounded suckers began shooting out. They more than doubled the work and the sun was getting hotter. It was then I always said, “Pa, I wish to goodness I could die before tobacco planting time and stay dead until it’s in the barns.”

We struggled along chopping grass and weeds from the stalks, “laying it by,” suckering and killing worms. When the bottom leaves began turning yellow, we dropped sticks between the rows on which the tobacco was to be thrown when cut, and then turned to suckering and killing worms again.

Harvesting the crops began in August. Several colored girls and I stood between the rows holding the sticks. Using hook-like knives which Pa made from old saws, the men split the stalks, ran their fingers down the slits, cut the stalks near the ground and threw them on the sticks. When enough was cut to fill a barn, we began hauling it in. With the loaded wagon standing in front of the barn’s door, something like a relay race began as the sticks were passed from man to man. Three men were up in the barn, one above the other, their legs spread wide apart between two tiers, over which the tobacco was hung. As the barn filled from the top, one by one the men came down.

Wood was piled in the fireboxes and the curing process began. For 2 or 3 days, or until the tobacco had turned yellow, the temperature was kept at about 110 degrees and then gradually stepped up. To dry the stalks and stems thoroughly, the heat was carried up to 220 degrees and this usually took one week. Then the doors were opened and brush was laid on the dirt floor, feely sprinkled with water to make the air humid, which caused the leaves to become supple that they might be handled without shattering them, while being removed to the packing house

Tobacco was traditionally packed into hogsheads which were very large barrels, about 48 inches long and about 30 inches across at the top, wider in the middle as they were rolled down the roads to the docks, and weighing about 1000 pounds each.

We know that hogsheads were still in use about 1900, as illustrated by this postcard.

Back to Brantley:

This job was repeated week after week until all of the tobacco was been taken from the fields and cured. Were we through with the stuff then? Not by a jugful.

If a heavy rain didn’t soften the tobacco, we had to haul it from the packing house to the ordering cellar put it on tiers again and sprinkle water on the red dirt floor. When it was “in order,” it was relayed to the sorting room above and stacked in piles.

One of us removed the stalks of tobacco from the sticks and laid them on the floor by the side of Pa, who sat in a chair in the middle of the room. He pulled the leaves from the stalks and sorted them according to quality. Usually there were from 6 to 8 grades. Bubba and a man tied the best leaves, and my job was to bundle the cheapest, which were called lugs.

Before the whole crop was harvested, cured and sold, it was Christmas again.

But we had fun around the tobacco barns during the curing seasons. Their roaring fires gave off comforting warmth to hands and feet when the fall nights were zippy and they lighted the road for play and, bless the Lord, it scared the hants (ghosts) away. Every boy in the community who could count on having a man walk home with him at bedtime was there for play and to eat watermelons, roasted corn and “sweet taters.” Bubba (Brantley’s brother) and I owned a white and liver-colored pointed dog. One of us would blindfold him and another boy would rub his breeches leg against the dogs nose, run down the road, climb a tree and yell. Fido was turned loose. He would pick up the boy’s trail and baying like a foxhound, follow the boy’s exact course and tree him. This type of fun sounds tame to a much older ear, but we youngsters found delight in the simple things of life in those far-off days.

And so it was. Life in the days of James Moore in Halifax County. I took the pictures of the following barns on or near James’ land when I visited, many of which may have dated to the time when James Moore lived.

Henderson Trail

What is now Henderson Trail in Halifax County was once James Moore’s land. Today, using Google Street View, we can see the historic structures on James’ land, some of which may well have been there when James lived.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if one of these actually WAS James’ barn?

Brantley’s recollections and these photos give us perspective about James life as a tobacco farmer, while the tax lists tell us about the land he owned, the number of horses, which were critical for farming, and the number of cows.

Unlike many plantation owners, James Moore never owned slaves, so the farm work would have fallen entirely to his family members and like-minded neighbors who may have helped each other with farm chores. The challenge, of course, was that everyone’s tobacco needed the same attention at the same time, so the only “spare hands” were perhaps laborers that could be hired from elsewhere.

Halifax Tax Lists

Most early Halifax tax lists no longer exist.

James is listed first in Halifax County on the 1782 tax list with 6 total white souls and 120 acres noted in the “alterations” (meaning changes from previous) category of the tax list.

This tells us that he has 4 children remaining at home. In 1782, James Moore would have been between 61 and 64 years of age. Several of his children would or should be married already and we know if fact that some were.

James Moore shows on the tax list in 1783 through 1787 with no acreage but in 1787 it looks like a James Jr. has 70 acres (but the Jr. could be Sr.) In 1788 James does have 120 acres, and in 1788 James Sr. is noted with 170 acres (or maybe the 7 is really a 2). In 1790 James is shown with 120 and has 120 every year until 1795 where it drops to 50.

James continues to show on the tax list through 1796, all years exempt beginning in 1788, and then he disappears from the personal tax list in 1797, but his 50 acres is still listed on the land tax list through 1814, after which it too is gone. In 1812 James Moore’s 50 acres is shown on Grassy Creek, so this may not be the right land or the right guy.

In 1806, a James Moore appears again on the personal tax list through 1822. This is not the same person as he is not exempt. This James is likely the son of William, would have been born in 1785 if he were 21 in 1806. He may have been living on and farming the land of James Sr. next to his father William.

Did “our” James Sr., father of Mackness Moore and Rice Moore move to Tennessee with Mackness and Rice in about 1797 or 1798? We know that son James Moore moved to Surry County, NC probably around 1770, but assuredly before 1791.

In 1783, a James Jr. appears with 30 acres but is not shown with land again. He is shown on the personal tax list in 1791, then from 1813-1829, then gone. It is unlikely that this is all the same person with all the gaps. However, we are safe to note that there is a James Jr. in 1783, so if this is James’ son, he would have been born in 1762 or before, meaning that his father would have to have been born in 1741 or before. We previously found James Jr. on the tax list with James Sr. in Prince Edward Co., in 1767, I’d guess that James Jr. is the eldest son.

Mackness Moore is listed as Mackerness in at least one year – and is on the tax list from 1788-1795. He is taxed with 100 acres of land in 1798 and owns it though 1800 even though he disappears from the personal tax list in 1794. His land is sold by 1800.

Rice Moore appears on the tax list in 1788 and eventually moved to the North part of the County where he is last taxed in 1792 before he leaves with his brother for Tennessee. He never owned land.

There is also a Thomas Moore on Birches Creek in 1783, 1792, 1798, 1799, 1800, 1811 and 1812. We have no more info on Thomas because he did not own land. I strongly suspect that the 1798-1800 Thomas is Thomas the father of orphans, Rawley and William. The 1783 and 1792 Thomas’s are indeterminate, but they could be a son of James or someone else entirely.

Let’s look at the Halifax County records involving James Moore.

James Moore in the Halifax Records

In 1770, James Moore purchased 238 acres from James Spradling on the second fork of Birches Creek, where the “said Moore now lives.” Witnesses George Brown (?), Sam Slate and George Stubblefield.

In 1773, James Moore filed suit against John Dalton, but the case was dismissed.

On March 11, of 1774, James Moore of Halifax sold land to Thomas Ward of Halifax County for 15#, 25 acres adjoining Thomas Ward, James Henry, Esq on the North side Thomas Ward’s plantation, meanders to the second fork of Burches Creek, signed James (M) Moore and witnesses James Thompson, Joseph Ferguson and Henry McDaniel. James’s wife Mary relinquishes dower. Recorded October 20, 1774

We know assuredly by 1774 that James Moore’s wife’s name was Mary. What we don’t know is whether or not Mary in 1774 was the same Mary Rice that was mentioned in Joseph’s Rice’s 1766 will, and if so, why he called his daughter by her birth name and not her married name.

On October 20^th of the same year, James Moore and Mary, his wife, sold land to Joseph Dodson for 60#, one tract of about 100 acres bounded by the low grounds of the creek in James Spradling lines, James Henry, and the Tan Trough branch. Witness William Moore, James (O.) (is this a mark or an initial?) Moore Jr., Susannah (+) Moore, signed James (M) Moore and Mary (+) Moore. Mary Moore relinquished her dower.

The Ward and Dodson deeds were registered the same day. It was a long way to the courthouse. James and crew probably made that journey on court day, which was the best public entertainment to be had.

According to Brantley Henderson, “country people would crowd the courthouse grounds on “Courthouse Day,” where horse traders would try to swap worthless plugs to unsuspecting farmers for their good old nags and $100 to boot.”

In 1774, James Moore served as a witness in the suit Hancock vs Spradling where John Hancock was an assignee of James Spradling and paid James Moore 125# in tobacco for being a witness. This was typical and ordered by the court.

In 1776, James Moore witnessed a deed that I found quite interesting

James Henry of Accomack County to James Spradling of Halifax for and in consideration of the rents and covenants to be performed grants Spradling one certain tract of land in Halifax on the 2nd fork of Burches Creek bounded by a corner of James Moor’s plantation where he now lives, a corner of the said Henry’s order of Council land which he purchased of Col. Thomas Parremore of Accomack County near the road that leads from the said Henry’s Mill on the Sandy Creek to Fontaines Old Houses. To have and hold for the term of 21 years paying annual rent of the quitrent for the 1st 7 years, 30 shillings per years for the next 7 years, and for the last 7 years, the yearly rent of 3 # and the quitrents for the whole term. Spradling agrees to build a good, square, log dwelling house, shingled with heart of pine shingles put in with nails, the house to be 20′ by 16′ with a good plank floor overhead and barn 30′ by 20′ built in the same manner, to plant and raise 200 apple trees of good grafted fruit and 500 peach trees within the 1st 7 years and to leave the plantation in good tenantable repair at the expiration of the term. If the rent is ever behind and unpaid for 6 months, and no distress to be had on the premises, it shall he lawful for Henry to enter upon the premises and this lease to cease and be void for the future. Signed William Ryburn for James Henry. Witness Samuel Slate, John (mark I with top middle and bottom cross) Spradling, Chas (+) Spradling.  Recorded November 21, 1776

The building that Spradling is supposed to build is probably very characteristic of the homes of the settlers of that era. 20 x 16. The size of my living room and an entire, large, family would have lived in that “good, square, log dwelling house” with its pine shingles put in with nails.

Even more ironic, the barn was almost twice as wide as the house.

Apple and peach trees. Entire orchards to be planted. I wonder if any are left today.

Spradling would have vacated this land in 1797 according to these terms.

Of course, the Revolutionary War was beginning about this time, and in the pension application file of one James Spradling, born in 1750, who enlisted in February 1776 for 3 years, we find that Mackness Moore gave testimony that he knew James in Virginia and that James Spradling lived with his father for two years prior to enlisting. Therefore, James Spradling would have lived in the James Moore household in 1774 and 1775. James Spradling eventually moved to Claiborne County, Tennessee, in close proximity to Mackness and Rice Moore and other members of the Moore family.

Why was James Spradling living with James Moore? Did James Moore simply need an additional farm hand, or was there more? Were they related? Is this James Spradling the son of the James Spradling that James Moore bought land from in 1770? James Moore knew the Spradlings in Prince Edward County.

In 1778, James Moore of Halifax sold to John Pankey of Halifax 100 acres on both sides of the branches of Birches Creek, mouth of the Tantroff Branch, Col. Hanries line, Barbery Branch. Signed James (M his mark) Moore, Witneses Joseph Dodson, Charles (C) Spradling, Edward (8) Henderson, William More. Recorded November 19, 1778.  Mary the wife of said James Moore voluntarily relinquished her right of dower.

Mary apparently died between 1778 and 1781, given that she does not relinquish dower in 1781 or on land sales thereafter.

In 1780, James Henry of King and Queen County sells to James Moore of Halifax for 350# about 400 acres on one fork of Birches Creek, crossing the creek and bounded by a branch inside Henry’s order line. Signed William Ryburn for James Henry. Witnesses James (+) Moore Jr., William Moore, Edward (+) Henderson. Recorded October 19, 1780

Also in 1780, James Moore with his M mark witnesses the sale of 13 acres of land from Charles Spradling to John Pankey on the north side of Birches Creek. William Moore and Edward Henderson (+) were also witnesses.

In 1781, James Moore sold to John Pankey for 2000# about 30 acres on the second fork of Birches creek. Signed James (M) More – witnesses William Parker, Charles Crenshaw, Jonathan Colquitt. Recorded September 20, 1781

James also witnessed the land sale from Stephen Pankey to William Walton for 100 acres on the second fork of Birches Creek, along with John Pankey and Jonathan Colquit.

In 1782, James had 6 white and no black souls and paid one tithe.

1783 provides us with our first road hands list.

John Pankey surveyor from Walton’s Mill path to the county line, tithes John Sloane?, James Ferguson, Hugh Ferguson, Thomas Jeffress, Lewis Halay, Benjamin Halay, Daniel Trammell, Thomas Trammell, Richard Lamkin, Richard Thompson, William Yates, Jesse Spradling, Isaac Farguson, John Farguson, Nimrod Farguson, Charles Spradling, Mack (Mackness) Moore, Rich (probably Rice) Moore, William Moore, Thomas Williamson Jr and Sr, Edward Henderson, William Pankey, Nathan Sullins, John Mullins, William Ashlock, James Moore, Bartholomew Harris, Benjamin Edwards, William Edwards, Thomas Dodson Jr. and Sr., George Dodson, Robert, Mathis, John Tolles, Martin Palmer and William Walton.

Every property owner was required by law to contribute one day per year for road upkeep. The roads at that time, according again to Brantley Henderson, were “old, winding muddy roads.” While the farmers did travel in their wagons to the tobacco warehouses, they did not journey far beyond the neighborhood, to the point that Brantley had never journeyed the 15 miles to Vernon Hills to visit the old Henderson lands, cousins or cemeteries. “Only urgent business would take one so far from home.”

Brantley wrote of the roads, “With few exceptions, the tobacco wagons were drawn by 4 horses – an even dozen were really needed. What could rightly be called a road wasn’t in existence. The word “trail” would do honor to their memory. Little effort was made to grade and drain them and there were no bridges over the swamps and creeks. In fact, few of the rivers were bridged. The larger ones were crossed by ferry.

The one day required yearly road maintenance was “confined to the worst mudholes in each area. If possible, with picks, hand shovels and plows, ditches were dug to drain off water, then the holes were filled with loose dirt. Until a dry spell came to bake the dirt, the mudhole was worse than before.”

The 1783 tax list also tells us that James Moore owned 3 horses, 8 cows and was living beside William Moore.

In 1784, James Henry of King and Queen County sold to James Moore (with William Ryburn power of attorney) 400 acres on Birches Creek, John Pankey’s line, Nathan Sullins. Witnesses John Poindexter, Howard Henderson, William Walter.

In 1786, James Moore’s son, Rice Moore married Elizabeth Madison whose father was Roger Madison.

On the 1786 tax list, James Moore has 2 horses and 8 cows.

In 1786, James Moore sells to Edward Henderson about 50 acres on the second fork of Birches Creek bounded by Old Fields Branch, lines of James Henry, William Mors, and Nathan Sullings, witnesses Mackness Moore, William More and John Poindexter – James More signs with (M) mark. Deed dated July 13, 1786 and recorded October 19, 1786

Edward Henderson married James Moore’s daughter, Lydia. This land began the Henderson family legacy in Halifax County which remains today.

In 1786, James Moore sold 40 acres on Birches Creek to Leonard Baker.

James was also appointed surveyor of the road from the Double Branch to the Pittsylvania County line.

In the suit, Wimbush and Neale versus James Moore, a judgement was rendered.

On February 23, 1787, James Moore sells to William Hanes (both of Halifax) for 15#, 30 acres on the second fork of Birches Creek, John Poindexter line, witnesses Rice Moore, Charles Spradling and John Poindexter. James Moore makes his mark as M, Rice signs, recorded July 19, 1787.

In Brantley Henderson’s book, he mentions that winters in the “old days” were quite harsh in Halifax County. Blankets of snow would fall 6 inches deep, and the families would harvest ice 15 inches thick, storing it in the back yard in an ice pit lined with pine boards. That might well have been a later invention, but the winters probably precluded filing deeds in February.

The 1787 tax list shows James Moore with 70 acres and the 1788 tax list, with 120 acres.

In 1788, James Moore petitions the court for “reasons appearing is exempt from county levies.” It kills me that they didn’t say why. If he is age 70, then he was born in 1718.

The 1788 tax list shows him as James Moore, Sr. with 2 horses and 170 acres. It’s possible that the 7 was really a 2.

In October of 1788, Sally Moore married Martin Stubblefield. James Moore is noted as the father, with James Rice as surety and John Atkinson as the minister. James Rice may be the son of Matthew, a great-uncle to Sally Moore.

In February of 1789, Mary Moore married Richard Thompson with Edward Henderson as surety. The Reverend William Moore, her brother, performed the nuptials.

A month later, On March 10^th of 1789, Manness (Mackness) Moore married Sally Thompson, with Richard Mays? as surety.

In 1790 and 1791, James Moore is shown with 120 acres and in 1791, he’s exempt.

In 1791, William Haynes sells the 30 acres of land he purchased from James Moore to Reche McGreggor bounded by Spradling’s old line, James Moore, Col. Henry.

In 1792, James Moore has 1 white poll, 1 horse and 120 acres.

In 1793, James has 120 acres and is exempt.

In 1794, Edward Henderson sold to Isaac Bare (Barr) for 30 # about 50 acres in the waters of Burches Creek and bounded by the Old Field Branch to James Henry’s line, William Moore’s line. Signed Edward Henderson. Witnesses – William Moore, Lucey Moore, James Moore. Recorded July 28, 1794

This is interesting because there is no mention of James signing with a mark, but every other signature of James is shown with a mark. This James could have been his son or William Moore’s son, James.

Lucy Moore could have been either William Moore’s wife or daughter.

In 1794 through 1797, James is shown with 50 acres and exempt.

In 1795, 1796 and 1797, there are suits against James Moore, but I can’t tell if it’s our James Moore or another.

In 1795, one James Moore signed a petition to sell the glebe land of the Anglican church. I’m not sure if this is our James Moore, or the son of William Moore, but given that this signature is on the same page as Mackness Moore, Thomas Moore and the Barr gentleman, it’s certain the same family if not our James.

In 1798, James Moore sells to William Moore 200 acres for 65# on the second fork of Birches Creek, Isac Barrs line, David Wilson, John Huddleston, Bare Branch, Little Branch, signed with the M mark, wit William Walton, Thomas Moore, Elizabeth Walton, Edward C. Henderson (also see following entry)

This Thomas Moore is either the son of James Moore or William Moore.

On the 1798 through 1805 tax list, James is still listed with the 50 acres, but the listing for personal tax is blank. If someone is exempt, they are still listed with the explanation, “exempt.”

James would have been age 80-83 by this time, and generally, the missing personal property tax would be interpreted to mean that James had died. However, given that his land remains on the list, combined with the fact that his sons left for Grainger about this same time, could cause one to wonder if James went to Grainger County in spite of his advanced age.

One final lawsuit in 1798 is James Moore versus Charles Dupreast for an attachment against defendant. William Thomas, garnishee, says he has nothing. Again, I don’t know if this is the correct James Moore.

By 1799, Mackness Moore is living in Grainger County, Tennessee. Rice Moore went with him, although it’s unknown if this was at the same time. Rice, a Methodist minister, was in East Tennessee by 1797.

In 1806 through 1811, the 50 acres remains on the Halifax County tax list when a James Moore once again emerges on the personal property tax list with 1 white poll and nothing else.

In 1812 and 1813, James Moore is shown with 50 acres, but it’s listed on Grassy Creek which would not be the correct James Moore.

Beginning in 1798, James life fades to gray, then black.

We simply don’t know what happened, or more precisely, when the inevitable happened.

James Moore’s Land in Halifax County

James bought and sold land in Halifax County. Using DeedMapper, we have the plots of James Spradling’s two land grants, as well as that of the land James sold to William Moore.

I wrote about those in detail in the article about Lucy Moore.

In 2008, I visited Halifax County and cousin Olen was gracious enough to take me to visit the Henderson cemeteries. Yes, there are two. The original cemetery on James Moore’s land is in the woods on the land he owned, now owned by the Henderson family. The second, younger cemetery is on Henderson land that may well have been some of James’s original land as well.

While the Moore family moved on or died out in Halifax County, for the most part, the Hendersons stayed and thrived, still owning much of that land today.

Come along with cousin Olen and me as we take you with us to visit the now Henderson, then Moore, cemetery located down the 2-track known as Henderson Trail.

This is stunning, breathtaking country. That’s the Blue Ridge in the distance.

Looking around.

Drinking it in. James walked here for the last quarter century of his life.

This road still beckons to me all these year later.

Definitely on James land now.

Those branches of Birches Creek provide ponds.

Getting close to the woods where the cemetery is located.

In that clump of trees. I’m excited – we’re getting close now!

It’s early spring – the underbrush is too heavy later.

Fresh spring-green leaves just budding. Shall we find our way inside?

Periwinkle, the perennial favorite in all cemeteries in the south.

The dainty white flowers are so graceful and beautiful.

The periwinkle gives the cemetery location away with the field stones marking the final resting place of ancestors and family members, nestled in the periwinkle.

“I’m here, I’m here…,” they call.

“Did you come to find me?”

This stone looks like a stick, but it’s a stone stood sideways. Perhaps a name was originally scratched on the surface, but there is nothing now.

Trees have grown around the graves in the decades since burial, because graves could not have been dug with the roots.

This is not a small cemetery. I’m sure there are graves everyplace.

I know beyond a doubt that James Moore is here, along with wife Mary, son William and his wife, Lucy. Edward Henderson and wife Lydia Moore would be buried here too. Probably several of thier respective children too.

More fieldstones as we walk around.

I wonder if this larger stone marks James’ grave, along with the yucca plants. It looks like this grave has been better maintained than some of the others. Someone loved this person.

William Moore’s unmarried daughters are probably buried here too, as is Thomas Moore, son or grandson of James who died in 1801.

Wait, I see a stone with a name!

J. Henry Midkiff, a farm laborer, married Susanna Henderson, daughter of William Henderson and Piety Jones. I’m sure that Susanna rests here as well, beside her siblings, parents, grandparents John Edward Henderson and Sarah Clark, her great-grandparents Edward Henderson and Lydia Moore and her great-great-grandparents, James Moore and Mary Rice.

S. K. Henderson is Sarah K. Henderson whose parents were Richard Clark Henderson and Carolyn Firesheetz. Richard’s parents were John Edward Henderson and Sarah Clark. John’s parents were…you guessed it…Edward Henderson and Lydia Moore.

Sarah was five generations removed from James Moore and that was in 1845. Today Sarah’s descendants are probably 10 generations or more removed.

S. K. Henderson was married to her first cousin C. N. Henderson.

C. N. Henderson is Charles N. Henderson, the son of William Henderson and Piety Jones. William’s parents were John Edward Henderson and Sarah Clark.

Henderson Cemetery

Olen knew of a second Henderson Cemetery too, a little further down Oak Level Road, south of Henderson Trail.

This Henderson Cemetery has been indexed. The older cemetery, above, has not and is not included on Find-A-Grave either.

The oldest grave here is Richard Clark Henderson who served in the Civil War. He married Nancy Satterfield as his third wife. Richard’s father was John Edward Henderson and his mother was Sarah Clark.

This Henderson Cemetery is located across from the Oak Level Fire department, as shown on the map that Olen provided, above.

Today, using Google maps.

Approaching the cemetery.

I photographed every stone I could find.

Lots of Yucca here, although is cemetery is a field, not in the woods.

Richard Clark Henderson was the son of John Henderson and Sarah Clark. Sarah was the daughter of William Clark and Elizabeth Younger, who was the daughter of Marcus Younger and Susanna whose last name is unknown.

This means that my DNA matches through this branch of the Henderson family could come through the Moore line or through the Younger line. Of course, with colonial Virginia in play, they could also come via other unknown lines as well.

Olen is related to the people in this cemetery. The Younger family married into the Hendersons as well as into the Estes family. John R. Estes married Nancy Ann Moore. I’ve always wondered how these people met, because they did not live in close proximity to each other, with the Youngers on the Banister River and the Estes family in South Boston. I believe the connection was the early Methodist religion.

Nancy Henderson

This cemetery was fenced a dozen years ago, but not mowed.

I took the photos above, myself, but part of James Moore’s land is for sale today, and you can see more pictures at this link.

Tradition of Methodist Ministers

James Moore and his Rice wife, whether it was Mary or one of her sisters, had several children who migrated to Grainger County, as mentioned in the Holston Methodistism reproduced in Distant Crossroads (Hawkins County, TN) in 2003.

The County Line Meeting House was on the north side of the Holston River on the line between Hawkins and Jefferson (now Grainger) counties and was mentioned in the formation of Grainger County.

I visited and took the photo, above, where I was told that the Meeting House used to be, in front of what is now called the Coldwell Cemetery.

There are lots of Stubblefields, Dodsons and McAnally’s buried here.

Moore’s Chapel Road is very close by, but no one in the neighborhood knew where the actual Chapel used to be.

It’s a beautiful, old cemetery, and several of James Moore’s descendants are likely buried here.

Ironically, the address is Mooresburg.

However, I have since discovered that indeed, this is NOT the County Line Cemetery nor where the County Line Church was located. In fact, the County Line Cemetery is now an abandoned cemetery adjacent the Meeks Cemetery on old County Line Road.

According to locals, the old Church and homesteads are now under Cherokee Lake.

One word of caution for researchers is that several Moore lines settled in Grainger County and only Y DNA has been able to sort them out.

According to the Distant Crossroads article once again:

About the year 1792 a company of emigrants from Virginia settled here and between 1792 and 1795 organized a society. Among the original members were Martin Stubblefield and wife Sallie, Richard Thomson and wife Mary, Rice Moore and wife, John Henry Brown, Edward Rice, Amos Howell, Charles McAnally, Bsil Guess and John McAnally and wife, some of whom lived in Hawkins County. These men were all able exhorters.

Mr. Moore afterwards became an able and useful local preacher. Their wives also “(s)elect ladies” as they were labored in the cause of the gospel. Prayer and class meetings were kept up regularly from house to house. Sometimes it would happen that the men were absent holding meetings in other neighborhoods. In that event Mrs. Sallie Stubblefield would lead the meeting and would often deliver an exhortation. She was able in prayer and exhortation. These families have been represented in the ministry to the present day. Vol 1 page 136.

The Western Conference met at Chillicothe, Ohio Sept. 14, 1807. Bishop Asbury presided. A ride of 360 miles after leaving Chillicothe brought Asbury to Martin Stubblefield’s Oct 12th. There, weary as he was, he preached at night and felt powerfully disposed to sing and shout as loud as the youngest. Page 81 Volume 11

Bishop Asbury in passing through East Tennessee was accustomed to visit the Stubblefield’s at County Line. Martin Stubblefield was a favorite stopping place of his. At County Line there were 3 brothers, Thomas, Joseph and Martin Stubblefield.

Martin Stubblefield at an early day removed himself to Ohio, driving the team himself. In Cincinnati the team became frightened and ran away and killed him and he was buried there.

Not mentioned in the above article is that William Moore’s daughter, Nancy Ann who married John R. Estes had also arrived by 1820. Lemuel, probable son of James also settled here before moving on to Kentucky.

James Moore’s Children

I’ve assembled James’ proven and probable children with birthdates estimated from marriages and other legal documents where a minimum required age is known:

• James Moore, born about 1746, possibly as late as 1753, is noted as taxable with James Sr. in 1767 in Prince Edward Co. James was originally believed to have gone to East Tennessee with the other Moore men, as several James were found there, but DNA testing suggests otherwise. One James Moore whose descendant’s Y DNA matches our line is found in Stokes County, NC by 1791 and is believed to have been there earlier, having married Susanna Jones in about 1770. A James Moore Jr. witnessed a deed with a Susanna Moore in Halifax County for his father, James, in 1774. James Moore died in DeKalb County, Tennessee on March 3, 1831 and Susanna died there on July 27, 1825 according to the family Bible. They named their children Eunice, Zachariah, Thomas, Massy, Nancy and Sarah Jane.
• Lydia, wife of Edward Henderson, is almost unquestionably a Moore. Edward Henderson has a lifelong relationship with the Moore family and owns land which is sold to him by James, abutting both James and William Moore’s land. Edward and Lydia name a child Rice Henderson. Edward Henderson was born about 1746 and died in 1833 in Halifax County. It’s likely that Lydia was about the same age. James sold land to Edward in 1787 but Edward was witnessing land transactions for James as early as 1778. Their earliest known child, James Henderson was born about 1775. Other children were named Sally, Peggy, Oney, John, Rice, Edward and Mary. Edward served twice in the Revolutionary War. I have DNA matches with people who descend from this line.
• The Reverend William Moore born probably about 1750 married Lucy whose surname is unknown about 1772, likely in Halifax County, but there is no marriage record. William was a very early Methodist minister, ordained by 1775, eventually breaking with the Methodist church and was instrumental in forming the Christian Church which survives yet today in Halifax County. He died in Halifax County in 1826.
• Thomas Moore, born 1761 or before is believed to be a son of James Moore. He is found on the tax list beginning in 1783 but only sporadically. A Thomas is found in 1792, 1798, 1799 and 1800. The Thomas in the 1790s is likely the Thomas who married Polly Baker in 1798 and by 1801 had left two orphan boys, Raleigh and William. The Thomas in 1783 is too old to be the son of William Moore and may be unrelated. The Thomas Moore from the 1790s may be the son of William, not the son of James Moore. Y and autosomal DNA testing has confirmed the connection.
• The Reverend Rice Moore, born in 1762 or before, married Elizabeth Madison in 1776, moved to Greene County Tennessee by 1797, was in Hawkins the portion that became Grainger County, Tennessee before 1800 and died in 1834. Like his brother William he was a Methodist minister. He named children Elizabeth, Mary, Nancy, William and John B. Moore.
• Mackness Moore, born 1765 or earlier, married Sarah Thompson in 1789, and died after October 1844 when he wrote his will and before May 19, 1849 in Grainger Co., TN. Rice and Mackness both left Halifax County before 1800. Mackness named children Mastin, John, Elizabeth, James, Samuel, Sarah, Sally and Richard.
• Sally (Sarah) Moore was born about 1767 and married Martin Stubblefield in October 1788 with James Rice as surety. This family also migrated to Grainger Co., TN, naming their children Nancy, Rebecca, James, Mary, Elizabeth Ann and Robert Wesley.
• Mary Moore, probably born before 1769 was married to Richard Thompson in February 1789 by the Rev. William Moore with Edward Henderson as surety. The Richard Thompson family is in Grainger Co. with the other Moore siblings. Their children were named Mary, William, James, John and Frances.
• Lemuel Moore, born before 1777 is thought to be the son of James Moore. Lemuel Moore is found in 1797 in Greene County, TN beside Rice Moore. One Lemuel Moore is found on the tax list in Halifax County in 1801, but not in the following years. Lemuel Moore married Anna Stubblefield in 1804 in Grainger County and died in 1859 in Laurel County, Kentucky. I have several DNA matches with descendants of this couple.

Another Lemuel Moore is found in Halifax County in 1812 on the tax list, still there when an 1825 debt suit is filed against him, but is found in 1830 in Grainger County. I believe the elder Lemuel is the son of James Moore and the one found in Halifax County between 1812-1825 is probably the son of William Moore. Lemuel is sometimes spelled Samuel.

I found a document in the chancery files where on November 2, 1812 where George Estes, his son John R. Estes (who married Nancy Ann Moore, daughter of William Moore) and Lemuel Moore (proposed brother of Nancy Ann) all 3 signed a deposition in a lawsuit pertaining to Phoebe Combs, related to John R. Estes. This is highly suggestive that the Lemuel in 1812 is the son of William Moore, and the Lemuel who left Halifax County before 1800 is the son of James Moore.

Y DNA

Based on the associations of James Moore with his neighbors, and his marriage into the Joseph Rice family, I was pretty well convinced that our Moore line was English. I might have been wrong.

Now, there’s the matter of a pesky Y DNA match to a man who claims his paternal line is from Scotland. He hasn’t answered e-mails yet, but I’m still hoping.

There were Moore families involved with the Cub Creek settlement which was Scotch-Irish, but James, to the best of my knowledge, doesn’t seem to be associated with that group. However, the dissenting meeting house built in 1759 by his father-in-law clearly wasn’t Anglican. Baptists have no concentrated history in the county that early and neither do Methodists. That leaves Presbyterians.

• Is the new Y DNA match wrong about his ancestral line?
• Was James Moore actually Scotch-Irish?
• Did James meet and marry Joseph Rice’s daughter in Amelia County, or, did he marry her in Hanover County, joining with his father-in-law in the “Hanover migration” to Prince Edward County sometime after Joseph Rice is last found in the merchant accounts in 1743 in Hanover County?
• In 1741, Joseph’s brother Matthew acquired land in Amelia County and in 1746, so did Joseph Rice, both on the Sandy River.
• Matthew Rice married Ann McGeehee, a Scotch-Irish woman.

So, there is indeed at least a tenuous Scotch-Irish family connection.

A Late-Breaking Clue – Betsy McGinnis

According to her Revolutionary War pension application, Betsy McGinnis was married in the spring of 1785 to William Morris in Halifax County by her cousin, Rev. William Moore who was a minister in the Methodist Episcopal Church.

This may be a HUGE hint, because if Betsy and William Moore were first cousins, that means they shared grandparents. Of course, cousin could have been used more liberally, but clearly Betsey and William knew they were related.

William Moore’s parents of course were James Moore and the daughter of Joseph Rice.

We don’t know who James’s parents were, and Joseph Rice’s wife was named Rachel at his death.

Therefore, if we can figure out the genealogy of Betsy McGinnis, specifically who her grandparents were, the James Moore brick wall may fall. Either that or the wife of Joseph Rice might be identified.

If you descend from James Moore or Joseph Rice, will you please check to see if you have any matches to people who descend from William Morris born in 1758 in Halifax County, VA and died in 1824 in DeKalb County, GA and his wife Betsy McGinnis who was born about 1761 and probably died in 1841 in Dekalb County? If you match, please let me know.

It seems we are often left with more questions than answers, but I just feel this answer is so, so close.

Doggone it, James Moore, WHO ARE YOU AND WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?

______________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• Family Tree DNA
• MyHeritage DNA only
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload
• AncestryDNA
• 23andMe Ancestry
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists for genealogy research

This is the fifth article in the Mitochondrial DNA series. The first four are:

• Mitochondrial DNA: Part 1 – Overview
• Mitochondrial DNA: Part 2 – What Do Those Numbers Mean
• Mitochondrial DNA: Part 3 – Haplogroups Unraveled
• Mitochondrial DNA: Part 4 – Techniques for Doubling Your Useful Matches

One of the best things about Family Tree DNA is their projects. Just this week, one of my brick walls is falling, thanks to a project administrator’s keen eye!

There are lots of projects to choose from for just about every interest. Let’s take a look at what’s available and why you should join.

What Are Projects?

Family Tree DNA offers customers the ability to join roughly 10,000 free projects that are administered by volunteer project administrators who have a particular interest in the subject of the project.

The most well-known projects are surname projects, but of course, the challenge with mitochondrial DNA, inherited through generations of female to female genetic transmission, is that the surname changes with each generation. Surname projects generally are founded based on paternal surnames.

For example, I started and administer the Estes surname project, even though I’m not a male and have no Y chromosome. To represent my line, I tested my Estes male family members.

Some Y DNA projects welcome all people who descend from an ancestor with that surname, and others do not. I do, because within projects members can use advanced matching tools to see who they match within the project. Of course, a match within a project does NOT guarantee that you match the person BECAUSE of that specific ancestor. It’s a good clue and a place to start, however, and I encourage everyone to consider joining all projects that pertain to their genealogy.

Testers can join an unlimited number of projects and they are all free, although some may have specific criteria required to join.

Why Join a Project?

You might be wondering why one would want to join a project. There are several reasons.

• Expertise

Project administrators generally offer some level of expertise in the subject at hand. They have to have a reason to spend the time creating and maintaining the project and corresponding with members. Relative to haplogroup projects, project administrators are literally the most knowledgeable people on earth about their haplogroups of interest.

• Common Interests

Whether you’re trying to figure out where your haplogroup came from, your ancestor of a specific surname or you’re interested in a particular ancestral group, like Acadian ancestors, other project members clearly have the same interest. Project members know that others in the project share that interest and if the project administrators have enabled the social media feature of projects, you can post and discuss topics and make requests there.

• Camaraderie

Who wants to exist on a genealogical island? Working together with others often reaps huge benefits. For example, in the Crumley project, a few years ago I was able to reconstruct the partial genome of the common ancestor of 57 group members who descend from James Crumley. Without collaboration, we could never make this type of genetic progress – not to mention simply sharing traditional research.

• Access to project feed or project results

Some project administrators make the viewing the project as well as the social media feed available only to project members who are signed in. Whether you can view the project page or social media feed or not as a non-project member, the only way to actually participate is by joining the project. The more joiners, the better for everyone.

• Map

Every project has the ability to display a map based on the entire project, as well as by project groupings. By clicking on Manage myProjects, then on DNA Results, you’ll see options for both the results and a map, if the administrator has enabled both features.

Maps show the distribution of the earliest known ancestors of project members if they have provided that information and agreed to project sharing.

My first map selection in the haplogroup J project, shown above, was for “All” meaning the entire project. There’s not much of a story here except that there’s lots of haplogroup J in Europe.

My second selection was for the group the administrator created for my own complete haplogroup, J1c2f. This map distribution, found primarily in Scandinavia is suggestive of a much more granular story.

Project maps are an important under-utilized resource.

• Advanced matching and searching within projects

Mitochodrial DNA matching on your regular match page allows you to view your matches in the entire database or to filter by projects that you have joined.

When selecting a project view, I’m only shown matches who are members of projects that I have joined, shown above.

However, there’s another, more powerful matching tool.

The Advanced Matching Tool

Click to enlarge

Utilizing the Advanced Matching tool, I have more options and can select to filter and match from a variety of tests, match types and features.

For example, I can select the level of mitochondrial DNA match I want to see, pair it with a Family Finder match, see only people who match me on both tests and who are in a specific project.

These are powerful combined tools.

How do you know if anyone else with your surname or interests have tested and if a project exists?

Does A Project Exist?

Without signing into your account, click here to go to the primary Family Tree DNA home page.

Scroll down. Keep scrolling….

You will eventually see this surname search box.

Type the surname of interest into the box and press enter. I’ll use Estes for this example.

You will see three types of results:

• The number of people with that exact surname that you typed, “Estes” in this case, that have tested – both male and female. In the first red box below, you can see that 320 people who currently have the surname of Estes have tested.
• The surname projects that include that surname spelling in the project description. Looking at the second red box, you can see that the Estes project has 370 members and the Estis Jewish Ukraine project has 62. The Estis Jewish project administrator has included the spelling Estes in the project description which is why this project is listed under Estes surname Projects.
• Other projects, in the green box, where the administrators have listed the surname Estes because their project might be of interest to some Estes descendants. This doesn’t mean that this project pertains to your Estes family – but it does mean you might want to click on the project and read the description.

For example, here’s the North Carolina Early 1700s project description.

Click to enlarge

For all projects, you can see the administrators’ names at the bottom left, below the project links. You can click on their names to contact them with questions.

You can click on this page to join. If you click “Join” and have not purchased a kit, you will be prompted to do so. If you have already purchased a kit, you will be prompted to sign in at this point so that your kit can be joined to the project.

Project results are available for viewing through the links at the left.

The Early North Carolina project includes both Y DNA and mitochondrial DNA participants.

Project Grouping

Project administrators group participants in various ways, depending on the goals of the project. In this case, mitochondrial DNA results are grouped by haplogroup.

Click to enlarge

Note that the first 2 people didn’t enter their earliest known ancestor, but the last 3 did. Results are so much more useful with ancestor information.

HVR1, HVR2 and Full Sequence

Project administrators have a lot of leeway about the purpose and goals of the project, the criteria to join, grouping (or not) and even whether the project has a public-facing results page, like the one shown above.

However, two things project administrators have NO CONTROL OVER at all are:

• Whether your full name displays. It does NOT! A surname only may be displayed if the administrator selects that option.
• Whether or not the coding region results are shown. That’s not an option and never has been at Family Tree DNA. Only HVR1 and HVR2 are shown, as shown above.

If, as project members, you grant administrators coding region view access so that they can properly group your results, there is no option for administrators to show coding region results on any web page.

Joining Projects from Your Personal Page

After signing on to your personal page at Family Tree DNA, to join or manage projects, click on myProjects at the top of your personal page.

You will then see the following option.

Click on “Join a Project.”

At this point, you will see a list of projects. People interpret this to mean that Family Tree DNA is recommending these projects, but that’s not the case. The project administrators have listed your surname as a surname that is relevant to the project they are running. That’s why the project is displayed on the project list you see initially.

Here’s the list that I see.

Of these projects, 2 are of interest, Estes and Cumberland Gap Y DNA, except that I don’t carry the Y chromosome. My mitochondrial DNA is not relevant, so unless the Cumberland Gap Y DNA project accepts people who don’t descend via the Y chromosome, only the Estes project is relevant to me.

The project with the purple star is new since the last time I looked. It may be relevant to me. I’ll need to read the project description to see.

Searching

Let’s say I’m interested in joining the Lore project, my mother’s mother’s surname. I want to search for projects that include Lore. I won’t see any initially, because my surname is not Lore.

Scrolling down below the initial project names shown above, I see a search box.

Typing Lore in the search box and clicking on “search” displays the following projects.

Both of these projects are relevant to me. My Lore great-grandfather is indeed Acadian.

Clicking on the link displays more information about the project. Clicking on the Join button joins you to the project, or, for projects that require a join request, takes you to the join request page.

If the project requires a join request, be sure to read the project goals and state why the project is a good fit for you.

For example, if the project is the Mitochondrial Haplogroup B Project, and you’re a haplogroup H, the project is not a good fit for you.

Many projects include key words that make searching more effective. For example, to find the AcadianAmerindian project, simply type Acadian into the search box. Project administrators try their best to make the projects findable for people interested in that specific topic.

To find haplogroup projects and projects that don’t include a specific surname or key word, you’ll need to browse. Fortunately, projects are logically grouped.

Browsing Projects

By scrolling down below the search box, you’ll see the various project categories with projects listed alphabetically. The number beside the letter indicates the number of projects in that category.

Click to enlarge

• Surname Projects are just what they say and you’ll find those using the search feature.
• Y and Mitochondrial Geographical Projects are projects that aren’t surnames and aren’t haplogroups. In other words, they could be a geography like the Cumberland Gap or France, or they could be a group like Native American or Tuscarora.
• Dual Geographical Projects include both Y DNA and mitochondrial DNA from a geography, BUT, these types of projects are extremely difficult to administer because someone may join because their Y DNA is from France, for example, but their mitochondrial DNA is from Africa. What happens is that unless the administrator actively suppressed the “wrong” DNA (from the project perspective) from showing, it looks for all the world like African mitochondrial DNA is appearing in France because both the Y and mitochondrial DNA of the tester shows in the results by default. If you’re thinking to yourself that suppressing “one little thing” should be easy, it’s not necessarily, especially not with thousands of participants in some projects. Not only that, it would require each person joining a project to communicate with the administrator and tell them which line is relevant to the project, Y, mitochondrial, or neither.
• MtDNA and Y DNA Lineage Projects are similar to surname projects, but they track descendants of a specific ancestor. For example, I could start a project for my great-great-grandmother’s descendants and encourage them to join that project so we could communicate and research together.
• Mitochondrial and Y DNA Haplogroup Projects are focused on a single haplogroup or subgroup. Some haplogroups have only one project, like Haplogroup J. Other haplogroups have a primary project plus several subgroup projects. Haplogroup H, which is very prevalent in Europe, has several subgroups.

Click to enlarge

Haplogroup administrators as scientists and citizen scientists often study specific haplogroups to learn more about their history and through that, the history of the human species and our migrations.

Unjoin

If you joined a project by accident, changed your mind or discovered a project is no longer relevant, it’s easy to unjoin.

Click on “Manage myProjects.”

You’ll see each project that you have joined, along with two actions. A pencil to modify your membership and a trash can. To unjoin the project, just click the trash can.

Editing and Granting Administrator Access

Click on the pencil to edit.

You control the amount and level of access that administrators have to your results.

If you grant administrators Minimum Access, they can’t even see your matches to group you properly. I don’t recommend that level.

Here’s a summary of Group Administrator Access at the various levels.

Please read the details on the Group Administrator Access Level and Permissions page in the Learning Center.

I generally allow all future administrators the same level of access. After all, I won’t be here one day to reauthorize and I want my DNA to work for both my ancestors and descendants forever.

Make your selections and then click on “Accept Project Preferences.” The system will then provide you with a summary of your selections.

Group Profile and Coding Region Sharing

You’ll need to decide if you’re going to share the Coding Region with the administrators, and if you’re going to share your results on the public webpage.

Both of those options can be found under your Account Profile, under Manage Personal Information.

Under Account Settings, click on Project Preferences.

Click to enlarge

Next, you’ll see a list of the projects you have joined. Scroll beneath that to the Project Sharing section.

Click to enlarge

You’ll want to be sure that these selections reflect your wishes. If you DON’T allow sharing, your results won’t be included on the public web page. People often view projects to see if their ancestors are represented, so results in projects act as cousin bait.

The administrators need to be able to view your coding region mutations to group you accurately.

Housekeeping

While you’re on the Account Settings page, take a look at the other tabs and make sure they reflect your desired options.

In particular, make sure on the Genealogy page to complete your surnames and your Earliest Known Ancestors and on the Account Information Page, your Beneficiary Information.

Your relatives and descendants will thank you!!!

______________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• Family Tree DNA
• MyHeritage DNA only
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload
• AncestryDNA
• 23andMe Ancestry
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists for genealogy research

Dearest Great-great-great-great-great-grandmother Mary,

I’d wager that you were born in Hanover County, Virginia given that Amelia County hadn’t been settled yet when you were born. In fact, there wasn’t much out there even a few years later, in 1751 when the Fry-Jefferson map was drawn. Most of the settlement was along the James and other major rivers. Amelia was the hinterlands!

You were probably a late teen or even in your early 20s when your family lumbered along in the wagon, moving the homestead, all the family and probably several animals to what was then the frontier on the slow-flowing emerald green waters of the Sandy River in Amelia County.

You said goodbye to most everything that was familiar, but some of the neighbors and at least a few family members made that same journey to the new frontier.

That must have been some trip!

Bang – crash! Another hole in the trail, carved by the line of wagons moving westward. Another rut. Another broken wagon wheel.

What an adventure!

Your uncle, Matthew Rice, had purchased land and probably lived in Amelia County since 1741, but your father, Joseph didn’t purchase land until 1746. Maybe he wanted to see how Matthew did living past the edge of civilization. Maybe Matthew’s letters back home talked about cheap land and opportunity.

Your father was last mentioned in a merchant’s account book in 1743 and again in 1744-45. It’s possible that you and James Moore were courting or married about this time.

Of course, it’s also possible that you met young James and were smitten after you both arrived in Amelia County.

Your family could have lived with your uncle Matthew for awhile until your Dad decided which land to purchase. Or, your family could have been “sizing up” the land for farmability by living there.

In any case, in 1746, your Dad, Joseph Rice, put down roots in Amelia County and he would never move again.

I think your first son, James, named after your husband of course, was born about 1746. It could have been a little later, but not a lot later based on the fact that in 1767, your son James was listed on the poll tax list with your husband. That means young James was at least 16 years of age. Sometimes the age was “misremembered” to avoid taxes for an extra year or two, so James could have been as old as 20 or 21 that year instead of 16. If James actually was 16, then he would have been born in 1750 or 1751.

Your next two oldest children, Lydia and William Moore were born about this time as well – probably before or right near 1750.

We know you had a child as late as 1767 and may have had two more children after that.

Based on these brackets, your birth year was probably about 1723, give or take a year or two in either direction. I’d say we’d be safe saying 1720-1725.

Given that “you” signed a deed relinquishing your dower right in property sold in 1778, but not in property sold in 1781 and later, you probably died about that time. Your youngest children wouldn’t have yet been adults.

I wonder what happened.

But more than anything, I wonder who you were.

Ironically, we know who your father was, but we don’t really know who you were.

In fact, you might just have been your sister.

You, of course, know the answer to this puzzle, but we’re quite confused.

Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

Your father, Joseph Rice died in 1766 and wrote his will on December 14, a few days before Christmas in the winter of 1765. That must have been a terrible Christmas, knowing his death was imminent.

He clearly knew his days were numbered, because at that time, men didn’t write a will until they felt it was necessary. His will was probated on June 16, 1766, about 6 months later, so he was probably in declining health for the last several months of his 66 years on this earth.

In his will, he left 100 acres to your husband, James Moore, stating that James is his son-in-law.

Thank you Joseph! All’s well.

Your Dad then left land to your brothers, all 5 of them.

Still all good.

But then your Dad says a really confounding thing.

“To my well beloved daughter Mary Rice one feather bed and furniture and one cow and calf.”

What the heck?

Your name is NOT Mary Rice. At least not in 1766. The wife of James Moore, if named Mary, would be Mary Moore, not Rice.

So, is your name something else, and your sister, Mary Rice was unmarried in 1766? That’s certainly what Joseph Rice’s will strongly suggests.

Your Dad wrote this will 6 months before he died, so it’s not like he was literally on his death bed. He wasn’t.

There are NO records of you in Prince Edward County – not a single one. When you and James sold land, you never signed to release your dower right.

Furthermore, there is no record of you and James Moore selling the 100 acres that your father left James, nor the other 36 acres you and James owned.

If you had released your dower rights in the land James sold before your father’s will, and James’s wife’s name was Mary before your Dad died, then we’d have the answer to the question.

But we don’t.

Then why do we think your name was Mary Rice, or better stated, why have genealogists assigned Mary Rice as the wife of James Moore? The answer to that lies in Halifax County, Virginia.

Onward

By 1770, James Moore and some wife had moved to Halifax County where he proceeded to buy land. Lots of it.

In 1774, James sold land twice, and again in 1778 and Mary Moore, his wife, relinquished her dower rights. However, in 1781 when James sold land, there was no Mary, nor does she ever appear in records again.

The only wife’s name we have for James is Mary.

And of course Joseph Rice left one feather bed, furniture along with a cow and calf to daughter Mary Rice in 1766, not Mary Moore.

So, here’s the question.

We know for sure that James Moore’s wife was the daughter of Joseph Rice. There’s no doubt about that because I and some of your other descendants match descendants of your siblings and Joseph Rice states such in his will.

So, are you really Mary Rice and your father was having a senior moment when he wrote his will and didn’t refer to you by your married name? I don’t think so, because by leaving you property without your husband implies that he didn’t approve of your husband and that clearly was not the case because he left James Moore 100 acres of land.

Were you dead already by the time your father died? I don’t think that’s the case either because your father would have left the land to your children and a guardian would have been appointed for them as your heirs. That didn’t happen either.

So, you were apparently alive in December of 1765, and probably in June of 1766.

James Moore, along with your oldest son, James, was on the tax list in Prince Edward County in 1767 – so you had been married to James a minimum of 15 years by 1765.

Your family was in Halifax County by 1770.

But the question is, were you with them?

Were you still alive in 1774, 8 years later when Mary Moore signed as James Moore’s wife?

If you were, then maybe your father really was having a senior moment and your name really is Mary Rice Moore.

If you died, before 1774, was your death part of the reason that your heartbroken husband picked up and left Prince Edward County between 1767 and 1770?

Could be.

If so, your death was between December of 1765 and 1774 instead of between 1778 and 1781 when Mary Moore disappears from the Halifax .

Which means, you might not be buried in Halifax County, but someplace in Prince Edward County – likely in the same location as your father. In a little cemetery on his land now long forgotten..

Did your husband have the very bad judgement to marry a second wife named Mary with the full intention of massively confusing your descendants some 250 years later?

Why didn’t you make James register those deeds when you two sold the land in Prince Edward County? Why didn’t you release your dower rights? You folks owned 3 separate parcels. That’s three chances I had to discover your name – but no!

And oh, another question too.

Why didn’t you and James name any children Joseph? Or Rachel? Or wasn’t Rachel your mother?

Or, did you have those children and they died? There are several unexplained multi-year gaps between your children that silently whisper of death.

You also didn’t name any of your children John, Charles or David after your brothers? You did name a daughter Mary and a son William, but then again, William Moore in Prince Edward County was probably your brother-in-law and if Mary wasn’t your name, then your named your daughter after your sister, Mary.

Is the Mary who was married to James Moore in Halifax County your sister, Mary Rice? Did James Moore marry your sister after both your father and then you died?

Am I way out on a limb here?

Why the heck were there no marriage documents filed? Oh, yea, that’s right, you were dissenters.

OK, since we can’t tell for sure who you are, aside from being Joseph Rice’s daughter, let’s at least look at where you and your family lived in Prince Edward County after it separated from Amelia.

That much we can do!

The Lay of the Land

Did you know that a century after you left this land that just a mile down the road, in what is now the Sailor’s Creek State Park, the decisive battle of the Civil War took place? Of course, the battle, more of a massacre actually, raged all over that area, including on your land.

I know that you and James Moore didn’t own slaves, and neither did your father – so you might have been pleased that your land was involved in the battle that swung the victory for the north, resulting in freeing the slaves.

Sadly, almost 8000 men died that April 6^th, 1865 when half of Lee’s Army was either killed or captured. You can read more about that here, here and here. Were you watching from the great beyond that day?

I know you thought I never would, but I found your land using DeedMapper.

Let’s start with the land you and James Moore owned before your father died.

Look Mary, there it is, outlined in purple. It might not be positioned perfectly, but it’s close. You and James owned the upper part of the purple square which was originally Abraham Womack’s land. William Womack was your neighbor too.

Your Dad, Joseph Rice’s land is shown with the green arrow, and the village of Rice today, Rice’s Depot in the 1800s and Rice’s Station during the Civil War is located where the purple arrow points.

Right beside your Dad’s land is Samuel Goode’s land. Somehow Samuel descends from John Goode and Frances Mackerness. I think they might have been his grandparents. In any case, the Mackness first name in Virginia is tied to this family and the Rowlett family. John Rowlett born about 1705 in Henrico County is reported to have been married to Elizabeth Goode, although I have never seen any documentation for that and don’t know if it’s supposition based on the fact that John Rowlett named a son who was born in Prince Edward County, Mackness. John Rowlett’s father, William was married to Frances Worsham. Of course, those Henrico families all moved to the part of Amelia County that became Prince Edward.

Did I mention to you that our DNA strongly suggests that we are relate to the Womack family? Would you mind telling me how?

By the time these families arrived in Amelia County in the 1740s, they had been intermarrying for 4 or 5 generations. Lord help us ever straighten this out! Maybe you can assist.

Samuel Goode sold his land to Charles Rice, your brother, in 1761. Your son, Mackness Moore was born in 1765 or earlier. I know there’s a connection. There has to be. What is it?

Is this family somehow connected to your parents or your husband’s parents? How?

By the way, who were your husband’s parents?

Who was your mother?

And were you actually your sister?

I need answers, Mary!

Brother-in-Law

I found your brother-in-law’s land too – or at least I think William Moore is your husband’s brother.

In 1752 William Craddock sold this 148 acre tract outlined in purple to William Moore who lived not far from your father (upper left) and adjacent your uncle, Matthew Rice whose land also abutted yours. Your own land is noted upper right with Womack. Everyone lived in close proximity and lent helping hands whenever necessary.

Not only that, another common bond was probably that you were all dissenters – meaning not members of the Anglican church. Your uncle David Rice’s son, the Reverend David Rice, was a Presbyterian minister known as the “Apostle of Kentucky” and your own father built a dissenting meeting house on his property in 1759.

By the time your father died in 1766 and you moved to Halifax County by 1770, your brother-in-law, William Moore, was getting up there in years. William’s son, William Jr. came of age in about 1762, according to the tax list, so William Sr. appears to be older than James Sr. In 1774, William Moore and his wife Margaret sold part of his land to Thomas Vaughan and by 1782, William disappeared from the tax lists. In 1784, he sold more land, except 13 acres. I’d say that William moved on or died about this time. You wouldn’t have heard about this in Halifax County until a letter could have arrived.

You and James must have been close to your brother-in-law William, because you named your eldest son James and your second son, William. Since William was older than James, this makes me wonder if their father’s name was also William.

The Old Neighborhood

The family names of those old patents and deeds on the map look so warmly familiar don’t they? There’s the Certain land and the Richee land too. They weren’t just names to you – you knew these people and were probably related to many.

The Spradling land is just east of the Certain land. These families moved to Halifax County when you and James Moore packed up and left. In Halifax County, James Moore bought his land from James Spradling and another James Spradling lived with you for 2 years in 1774 and 1775 before he enlisted to serve in the Revolutionary War. There’s surely a family connection someplace.

And look, the green arrows below approximate your father’s land. Of course, your Dad owned more than this. Eventually he bought the Atwood land above his original land too.

Here’s the approximate land on Google maps today.

I think, based on the Civil War map that the mill branch was just about where the red star is placed. Did you and James own a mill? Is that why you never sold the last 36 acres of that land?

Here’s the land you and James owned.

Looks pretty boring here, but if you look at the Civil War map, you can see the mill and the millpond.

You can even see the subtle roads from the mill going north and south. Those roads aren’t visible today, but the Mill Branch is mentioned in the 1760 deed where you sold 75 acres to Noel Waddill on Sailor’s Creek, part of the tract that you and James purchased from Abraham Womack, bounded by Ryan, Matthew Rice, and the Mill Branch.

Sailor’s Creek old road is mentioned too in the tax descriptions. In fact, the 1759 description says that your land is between Ligon’s Rolling Road, Sailor’s Creek Old Road, Sailor’s Creek and Sandy River.

James was clearing land in 1745 with the Ligon men who owned land on the south and west of your father. In fact, your Dad’s land abutted theirs.

It’s ironic that there are two cemeteries on your Dad’s land today. Of course, 100 acres of this 400 would become yours. We just don’t know which hundred.

One cemetery is located at the Pisgah Baptist Church and another on the west side of the property, on Highway 460, in green. That cemetery looks to be new, but I wonder about the history of the Pisgah Baptist Church Cemetery. Is that your original family cemetery where your Mom and Dad are buried? It looks too perfectly square, but you never know. I wonder where the dissenting meeting house was located that your Dad built in 1759. I’d wager the cemetery is someplace close to that.

Now that I think of it, if you died in Prince Edward County, you’re probably buried someplace on this land as well.

Your Dad left one fourth of this land to you and James, although we don’t really know which fourth other than it was not the eastern portion that William inherited.

Your brothers, John, William and Charles owned the other 300 acres and your mother lived there, probably with Charles, judging from the way the will is constructed. On the other hand, in 1767, John is listed as living with Rachel Rice – probably because he was underage but 16 or over, so taxable.

On the Civil War map, we can see several houses on your dad’s land.

I’d wager that your father’s house was at Rice’s Station, in the present-day village of Rice. That makes sense since he built a church here. A nice crossroads would have delivered travelers perhaps for a bit of a business. This was the main road at the time.

Did you and James live in one of those houses too? I’d bet that you did. We know your brother inherited the east part of the land, and your other brother’s land abutted yours. I’d almost bet that you had the north portion.

The Battle of Rice’s Station took place here the same morning as the infamous Battle of Saylor’s Creek.

This map shows the battlefield area, right where your family lived – exactly 100 years earlier.

Rice

A few years ago, I visited Rice, quite by accident actually. I remember at the time thinking that this was somehow significant. Too much to be happenstance. I didn’t really realize just how significant at the time, or that I was literally on Joseph Rice’s land.

I guess he summoned me home.

Actually it wasn’t just Joseph’s, but also yours and James’ land.

Let’s drive along the old Rolling Road headed north out of Rice.

This looks like it could well be the old Ligon Rolling Road referred to in the deed – in fact, the locals told me it was called the Rolling Road. I thought it was named that because of the rolling hills, but it was because these roads were used to roll tobacco hogsheads, or casks, to the docks for shipping downriver.

This very old building was being restored. The owners told me that it dated from before the Revolution. This is on the property that would either have been Joseph Rice’s or just north of his land.

Did you or a family member live here? You surely would have been familiar with this house and probably visited. Maybe another family member lived here, because it appears that the Rice and Moore families owned this entire region.

The outbuilding.

Looking across the fields.

This old building is or was at the Rice crossroads with Prince Edward Highway. It was pretty dilapidated years ago and appears to be gone today. It wouldn’t have existed in the 1700s, but I had to wonder about the history of this structure.

Unfortunately, Google Street View doesn’t include any of the roads in this area except for what is today Prince Edward Highway. Ironically, the road then would have been dirt and much smaller, but it too was probably the equivalent of a colonial highway – bring people into and out of Prince Edward County.

Today, Prince Edward Highway circumvents the sleepy village of Rice, which is probably the manifestation of Joseph Rice’s plantation.

Google maps shows Rice to be above the highway, but it isn’t. The center of Rice is the location of the old depot, near the Post Office today. At upper right, Saylor’s Creek Road reaches towards your old homestead. You and James would have traveled this road, now named Gully Tavern Road, many, many times to visit your parents and attend church on your father’s property. Of course, except when you were in “child bed.”

It’s about two and a half miles distant using today’s Gully Tavern Road, County Road 619.

Today Gully Tavern Road just looks like typical farm country.

Here’s the old split, with Saylor’s Creek Road, now Gully Tavern, to the right. You probably knew this well, as did your horses.

Did you marry at your father’s house, taking this road to your new home as a bride?

On down Sailor’s Creek Road, it looks like the old mill branch and pond would have been here, with the mill too of course, but nothing remains today. Was this where your house was located before you and James lived on your father’s land?

Looks like current Sunshine Lane might have been the old road, or near to it, with the mill pond below.

We know that by the time your father died, in 1766, you and James lived on his land because in his will, he said, “To my son-in-law James Moore 100 acres land whereon he now lives to be divided from the tract I live on by a line that was run by Robert Farguson to him and his heirs forever.”

Today, the road out of Rice, leading away from your father’s land, down Saylor Creek Road looks like this, punctuated by the ever-present Dollar General store.

The road to the left leads right onto the plantation from the east, but of course, that’s gone today.

Driving west across your Dad’s land.

Not widely cleared today.

The old road into Rice on the left. Of course, this “new road” we’re driving on didn’t exist then.

The old train track is now a hiking trail. It’s probably thanks to the railroad going through Rice that the name was preserved.

A typical Virginia byway. I wonder, was this more cleared when you lived here, or has this really never been entirely cleared?

The Exxon Station today marks the old road as well.

I guess you’ll have to think of this as our current livery stable for our gasoline horses.

To the west, there’s some cleared land peeking through, but it doesn’t look like this was very great farm land. It’s hilly, swampy and wooded. Maybe that’s why you chose to leave for Halifax County after your father died. I’d bet your Mom died shortly thereafter.

This must have been a very sad time for you, especially if you also buried children named Joseph and Rachel. Somehow, I’m guessing that you did.

Towards the western edge of your Dad’s land, today, we find the Trinity Memorial Gardens. Of course, when you lived on this land, there was a cemetery someplace too. Today, your family cemetery is lost to time.

You probably went back to the family cemetery one last time, visiting the graves of your parents and perhaps those of some of your babies as well, before leaving that final time for Halifax County. You would have been about 47 years old then.

There weren’t gravestones except for field stones, but you didn’t need stones with names. Who could ever forget where their parents are buried.

Once gone, you probably never went back. What today is a day trip in a car was a week’s journey, one way, for you, over badly rutted roads – if you can even call them that.

Nope, the ticket to Halifax County was one way.

Halifax County

By far, the largest portion of your life was spent in Prince Edward County. In fact, I wonder whatever possessed you to leave.

What happened after your father’s death?

Did you make it to Halifax County?

Did your husband marry your sister, Mary Rice?

Or are you Mary Rice?

If not, what was your first name?

If you made it to Halifax County, the landscape wouldn’t have looked a lot different, with the exception that the hills seem to be steeper and you can see the Blue Ridge Mountains in the distance. It’s not too far until you begin to climb upward in the foothills. Some would consider these ridges the foothills.

This is your land in Halifax County, although it was probably much more wooded then, at least until James Moore and your sons cleared it.

As you can see, it’s very hilly. In fact, a place on the main road just northwest of your land is called “Top of the World” because you can see straight to the Peaks of Otter some 50 miles away.

Those mountains in the distance aren’t good farming area, so you wouldn’t have wanted to move that far west. Although several of your children would do just that.

They crossed those mountains to the next frontier of Tennessee. They too had a one-way ticket, but I don’t think any of them left until after you passed away. You didn’t have to wave goodbye to them as the horses strained to start the heavy wagon on it’s journey.

It seems that the Womack family once again preceded you to the ever westward-shifting frontier – this time in Halifax County. In fact, you and James bought land in Halifax County from James Spradling in 1770, but he had obtained the land patent from Isham Womack. Of course, both men were Prince Edward County neighbors.

It seems that a subset of the Amelia and Prince Edward families moved together – and kept moving together.

They probably all attended the dissenting church on Joseph Rice’s property. Maybe these are the neighbors who constructed the old Moore Meeting House where your son William would begin preaching in Halifax County before 1775.

Your son, the Reverend William Moore must have made you proud, because he became a Methodist minister, as did your son Rice Moore. Even your daughters were known as incredible exhorters in Hawkins County, Tennessee.

I wonder if the process of changing dissenting religions, probably Presbyterian in Prince Edward County to Methodist in Halifax was smooth or fraught with heartache. Could this be part of the reason why your family along with a few others moved away?

I sure wish I had answers Mary.

I am going to leave you here, in the peaceful Henderson Cemetery that almost no one knows about, located on your original land in Halifax County.

Of course, the Mary Moore buried here by James Moore in an unmarked grave might not be you. Or maybe it is.

Was your grave the first one dug in this cemetery as your family gathered ’round?

Are you the Mary Moore that was married to James Moore when he lived here?

Are you Mary Rice Moore?

Or are you really Mary Rice’s sister whose name we don’t know?

Mary Rice Moore’s Daughters

Whatever your actual name, I’m calling you Mary Rice.

That’s what all of the family trees say, and it’s entirely possible that Mary Rice indeed was married to James Moore as his only wife. It’s a given that James Moore’s first wife was Joseph Rice’s daughter. It’s also entirely possible that James just happened to marry a woman named Mary as his second wife.

Given that Joseph Rice could have told us the name of James Moore’s wife that was his daughter, the joke’s on us these 253 years later because all we can do now is to speculate. There’s no way to ever confirm either way, short of finding a long-lost letter or Bible. Regardless of what James Moore’s Rice wife’s first name was, she was a daughter of Joseph Rice – that’s much is for sure. So the older genealogy is intact either way.

Some people have wondered if Joseph Rice’s wife at his death, Rachel was his first or second wife, and that perhaps both of his wives named a daughter Mary. It sounds improbable, but it wouldn’t be the first time that two children had the same name from two different wives.

One way or another, for genealogy, it really doesn’t matter because James Moore’s wife’s parents were the same regardless of whether she was Mary Rice or her sister.

Mary Rice Moore’s Mitochondrial DNA

I’d love to be able to document the mitochondrial DNA line of James Moore’s wife, referred to as Mary Rice Moore.

Her mitochondrial DNA would have been passed through her daughters to the current generation, if any descendants matching that description exist.

• Lydia Moore, wife of Edward Henderson, is almost unquestionably a Moore and was born about 1762. Edward Henderson has a lifelong relationship with the Moore family and owns land which is sold to him by James and abuts both James and William Moore’s land. Edward and Lydia named a child Rice Henderson. Daughters were named:
  • Sally (1796-1870) married William Shelton and had daughters Elizabeth Shelton (1822-1900), Frances Fuqua Shelton (1829-1901) and Jemima Ruth Shelton (1837-?)
  • Peggy (c1786-1840) married Thomas Clark
  • Oney (c1782-after 1860) married William Frederick Ferrell and had daughters Emilia Mildred Ferrell born in 1815, Margaret Ferrell born in 1820 and Susan Jane Ferrell born in 1822
  • Mary (c1804-?) marred William Clark
• Sally (Sarah) Moore was born about 1767 and married Martin Stubblefield in October 1788 with James Rice as surety. This family migrated to Grainger Co., TN, naming their daughters:
  • Nancy Stubblefield (1794-1836) married James Lebow
  • Rebecca Stubblefield (1798-1862) married Abel Wilson
  • Mary Stubblefield (1806-1888) married Henry Countz (Counts)
  • Elizabeth Ann (1807-1885) married William Chaen (Chain) Jr.
• Mary Moore, probably born before 1769 was married to Richard Thompson in February 1789 by the Rev. William Moore with Edward Henderson as surety. The Richard Thompson family is found in Grainger Co. with the other Moore siblings. Their daughters were named:
  • Mary Thompson
  • Frances “Fanny” Thompson

If you descend from any of these women to the current generation through all females, I have a free DNA testing scholarship for you. The current generation can be male, because females contribute their mitochondrial DNA to all of their children, but only females pass it on.

Are you a direct maternal descendant of Mary Rice Moore, or whatever her name is? If so, your DNA may hold the key to the next breakthrough! I’d love to hear from you!

______________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• Family Tree DNA
• MyHeritage DNA only
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload
• AncestryDNA
• 23andMe Ancestry
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists for genealogy research