Andrew Willis of Washington County – Revisited

Several years ago, a researcher asked if Andrew Willis, a Revolutionary War pensioner who died in 1823 in Washington County, Maryland, was descended from the immigrant John Willis of “Wantage” in Dorchester County. I published an article concluding we could not make that connection. Now, thanks to Sherry Taylor’s investigation of her Willis lines, it turns out we were wrong!  Revolutionary War muster rolls, pension files, census records, deeds, and probate filings establish that Washington County Andrew was a brother of Jarvis Willis, another Revolutionary War veteran and a proved descendant of Wantage John. Also, a tip of the hat to David McIntire, a researcher who almost nailed this years ago.  Below is the revised article; the original has been sent to the trash.

The Question

 Washington County Andrew was a Revolutionary War veteran who received a pension for service as a private in the 5th Regiment of the Maryland Line. There are five men named Andrew who were descended from Wantage John Willis and alive during the relevant period. Was one of those five the same man as the pensioner in Washington County? This article describes Washington County Andrew’s nuclear family and his geographic location. It then looks at each of the five men to see if they fit the facts about Washington County Andrew — his family makeup, geographic location, and military service. A bust on any of the three parameters means that particular person was not the same man as Washington County Andrew.

 Washington County Andrew – The Facts

Andrew Willis first appears in Washington County, Maryland in the 1800 census. That census lists him with (presumably) a wife, three sons, and two daughters.[1] The 1810 census shows him with the same family members.[2]

In 1812, Edward Willis (who is proved as Andrew’s son) purchased a small tract of land in Washington County on Antietam Creek.[3] His father was about 60 years old at that time. Edward may have purchased land his father had been renting and effectively became the head of household.

In 1818, Andrew applied for a pension. He stated he had served in the Maryland Fifth Regiment, had resided in Washington County for about twenty years, was 66 years old (thus born about 1752), was a laborer but unable to work, owned no home of his own, was impoverished, and his wife was old and frail. He said they lived with a son whom he did not identify.[4] He was awarded a pension paid from 31 Mar 1818 through his death on 4 Dec 1823. His pension was then paid to his wife Lettie/Letha Willis until her death.

As expected from the pension application, the 1820 census did not list Andrew Willis. It named Edward Willis heading a household that apparently included his parents, his brother and wife, and his sister. Subsequent records provide their names: brother and sister-in-law Isaac and Nancy, and sister Elizabeth.[5]

Edward died intestate in 1825 with a very small estate and no widow or children.[6] Under Maryland law, his estate went to his surviving parent(s) or to his siblings and their heirs if his parents were deceased. In 1829, Edward’s heirs sold the Antietam Creek land. The sellers were Hezekiah Donaldson and his wife Sarah, Nehemiah Hurley and his wife Elizabeth, and Isaac Willis and his wife Nancy.[7]

Edward’s mother did not participate in the sale, so she had already died. Sarah Donaldson, Elizabeth Hurley, and Isaac Willis were Edward’s living sisters and brother. Anyone not included in the deed could not have been a surviving sibling or child of a deceased sibling. That eliminates as possible siblings two Willis males who lived concurrently in Washington County.[8] Also, an unnamed son of Andrew and Lettie who appears in the 1800 and 1810 censuses but is absent from the 1820 census must have died without heirs. Otherwise, he, his spouse, or their child would have participated in the 1829 sale.

The facts prove Washington County Andrew’s nuclear family, as follows:

Andrew Willis                     b 1752                   d 1823

His wife:

Lettie LNU Willis              b 1756-65            d before 1829

Their children:

Edward Willis                     b 1785-90            d 1825

Isaac Willis                            b 1791-94            d after 1850

Sarah Willis                          b 1791-94            m in 1818 to Hezekiah Donaldson[9]

Son FNU Willis                   b 1791-99            d before 1820 Census

Elizabeth Willis                  b 1800                  m between 1820-25 to Nehemiah Hurley

Their daughter-in-law:

Nancy LNU                            b abt. 1790          m before 1820 to Isaac Willis

The evidence also proves Andrew resided in Washington County from at least 1800 until his death in 1823. The only evidence of his residence prior to that is his army service. The Fifth Maryland Regiment recruited from the counties of Queen Anne’s, Kent, Caroline, and Dorchester on the Eastern Shore. He was almost certainly from one of those counties.

By 1830, the family disappeared from Washington County. After Andrew, Lettie, and Edward died, the surviving family members moved to Ohio. In 1850, son Isaac Willis applied for a grant of land in Ohio based on Andrew’s service in the war. Isaac filed on behalf of himself and the other heirs of Andrew Willis.[10]

 Finding the Right Andrew Willis

Five descendants of Wantage John Willis who were alive during and after the war are candidates to be the same man as Washington County Andrew. Two were from Caroline County and three from Dorchester. They are shown below in bold face type in an abbreviated descendants’ chart showing their relationship to Wantage John. We will hunt for the man whose family matches the one above and who was in the right place to match Washington County Andrew’s residency and military service.

1) John “Wantage John” Willis d 1712

                   Caroline County Descendants:

2)    John “Marshy Creek John” Willis d 1764

                                    3) John “The Elder” Willis

                                                      4) Andrew “Friendship Andrew” Willis d about 1778

                                                                        5) Andrew No.1 Willis

                                    3) Isaac Willis

                                                      4) Andrew No. 2 Willis

                 Dorchester County Descendants:

2)    Andrew “New Town” Willis d. 1738

                                    3) Andrew No. 3 Willis

                                                      4) Andrew No. 4 Willis

                                    3) John “New Town” Willis

                                                      4) Andrew No. 5 Willis

                                                      4) Jarvis Willis

Spoiler Alert!

 Andrew Nos. 1 – 3 each had a nuclear family that did not match Washington County Andrew’s. Andrew No. 4 was too young to have served in the war. We can eliminate each (detail shown at the end of the article) and turn to Andrew No. 5, who must have been the same man as Washington County Andrew.

Andrew No. 5

Andrew No. 5 was the possible son of a John Willis in Dorchester County. John who inherited part of a tract called New Town as a contingent devisee when his brother George died. John did not pass New Town to any of his children; he sold it in 1784.[11] That might indicate none of his heirs were interested in the land, or they had moved away.

We know that one  proved son , Jarvis Willis, did so. Jarvis served in the army during the revolution and moved to North Carolina after the war.[12] He joined the regular army on 17 Feb 1777, served three years as a Corporal, and was discharged 14 Feb 1780 at Morristown, New Jersey.[13] He then appeared in Stokes County, North Carolina before 1790. Significantly, an Andrew Willis in Dorchester County enlisted in the same regiment and the same company on the same day as Jarvis and was discharged with him at the same place on the same day.[14] Surely, these men were brothers. Jarvis appeared in the Dorchester County 1783 Tax Assessment with no land and eight people in his household.[15]

Jarvis and Andrew showed up in Stokes County, North Carolina by about 1790. That census listed Jarvis Willis with a family of eight, matching his earlier household. Andrew Willis was not in that census but appeared on a Stokes County tax roll in 1791 with 250 acres of land.[16] Jarvis was listed on the same tax roll in the same district. He and Andrew may have shared the land. The 1792 tax roll showed Andrew’s acreage reduced to 200 acres, and Jarvis held 50. On a later roll, Jarvis had 125 acres, half Andrew’s original amount.

By 1793, Stokes County listed Andrew as “insolvent” and owing £5.10 in taxes.[17] Usually, this meant the party had abandoned their land and left the county. Where did he go? If he is the same man as Washington County Andrew, he took his family and retraced their steps 300 miles up the Great Wagon Road to Washington County, Maryland where he appeared in the census in 1800 and applied for a pension in 1818. Such reverse migrations were not common. I usually question the validity of any claim that someone migrated “backwards.”

In this case, the identical army service of Jarvis and Washington County Andrew outweigh any hesitancy about reverse migration. The date of enrollment is especially important. Officers of each company personally enlisted men to fill their ranks. For an officer to enroll two men on the same date meant the men almost certainly were in the same place when they signed up. There was no person more likely to be in the same location as Jarvis Willis on their enrollment date in February 1777 than a brother. With no other Andrew in the vicinity that seals the deal.[18]

Conclusion

Evidence about family makeup eliminates the first three men from being Washington County Andrew. Inability to have served in the army because of his youth rules out the fourth. We have no evidence of the fifth Andrew’s family on the Eastern Shore to compare to the Washington County family. However, there is strong circumstantial evidence implying Jarvis Willis is the brother of the fifth Andrew. His connections to Jarvis are significant – they enrolled in the same Continental Line company at the same time, served for three years, left the army on the same date, and later appeared together and may have shared land in Stokes County, North Carolina. Then Andrew Willis left at just the right time to arrive in Washington County to appear in the census there and to file a pension application. I conclude that the Andrew in Washington County is the brother of the veteran Jarvis Willis and therefore a descendant of Wantage John Willis.

The Descendant Andrews Eliminated

 Andrew No. 1

An Andrew Willis acquired land in Caroline County called Friendship Regulated in 1754. After Andrew’s death, his son Thomas distributed the land to his siblings according to his father’s oral instructions. Son Andrew No. 1 received 87½ acres.[19] The Supply Tax List of 1783 shows him in possession of that land with a household of five males and five females. A year later, Andrew No. 1 and his wife Sarah sold the land and did not appear in Caroline County again.[20] Their family, apparently four sons and four daughters (all born before 1783), are too old to be the Washington County family in which no child was born before 1785. Andrew No. 1 is not the same man as Washington County Andrew.

Andrew No. 2

Andrew No. 2 was the son of Isaac Willis and seems at first a likely candidate to be the same man as Washington County Andrew. After all, Washington County Andrew named one of his sons Isaac. Further, Andrew No. 2 disappeared from Caroline County before the 1800 census. Could he have moved to Washington County?

Sure. But the 1783 Supply Tax Assessment in Caroline County shows this Andrew with a household of one male and three females. That does not fit the Washington County family where the male children were older than the females and where no child was born before 1785. This rules out this man as Washington County Andrew.[21]

Andrew No. 3

Andrew No. 3 acquired about 60 acres in 1781.[22] He had that land in the 1783 Supply Tax Assessment for Dorchester County along with a household of seven people. Like the others we have examined, he had children born before 1783, while Washington County Andrew had none that old. He cannot be Washington County Andrew.

Andrew No. 4

Andrew No. 3 had a son, Andrew No. 4, to whom he devised the 60 acres. Andrew No. 4 was born in 1768.[23] He was the right age to have a young family in Washington County, but he was too young to have been in the war as a private. He was only nine when Washington County Andrew enlisted in the regular army and only fifteen when the war ended. He cannot be Washington County Andrew, either.

Again, thank you Sherry Taylor for your work on the Willis lines. Next, I must write about Jarvis Willis, who was Sherry’s primary interest. She is descended from one of Jarvis’s daughters! But I had to correct this article about Andrew first.

______

[1] 1800 Census Washington County, MD. The listing for Andrew Willis includes a man and woman 26-44 years old with two males under 10, one male age 10-15, and two females under 10. Note that if Andrew was born in 1752 per his pension application, the census understates his age by four years, which is not an unusual discrepancy.

[2] 1810 Census Washington County, MD. Ages of all family members track to the next appropriate age category except for the youngest daughter, who remains less than 10. She may have been an infant in 1800 and was 10 years old in 1810. Or, she may have died before 1810 and the census lists a new daughter.

[3] Washington County, MD Deed Book Y: 439.

[4] See Pension File S35141. Andrew stated he could not remember the exact dates but thought he enrolled in 1778 and was discharged in 1781. He was off by one year on both dates, according to official records.

[5] 1820 Census, Washington County, MD shows Edward Willis’s household with two men age 26-44 and one over 45, one female 15-25, one 26-44, and one over 45. The older man and woman are Andrew Willis and his wife Lettie. The two younger men are their sons Edward and Isaac. The youngest female is their daughter Elizabeth. The woman age 26-44 is Isaac’s wife Nancy LNU.

[6] Washington County, MD Bond Book C: 427 and Administrative Accounts Book 7: 413. Nehemiah Hurley was administrator, Nehemiah Hurley, Hezekiah Donaldson and Isaac Willis were bondsmen.

[7] Washington County, MD Deed Book KK: 610.

[8] William Willis and Levin Willis, who appear in census and deed records of the era, were not Edward’s brothers.

[9] Morrow, Dale W., Marriages of Washington County, Maryland, Volume 1, 1799-1830, (Traces: Hagerstown, MD, 1977), D64.

[10] 31 Dec 1850 letter from Bennington & Cowan, St. Clairsville, Belmont County, Ohio on behalf of Isaac Willis, online at Fold 3 pension file S35141 of Andrew Willis. Isaac knew his father was from the Eastern Shore of Maryland but was not sure of the county. He thought it might have been Kent. However, there is no Kent County Andrew. He also thought Andrew’s company commander was named Bentley. That was close. It was Benson.

[11] Dorchester County, MD Deed Book NH 2:546. John Willis sold to Levin Hughes. No signature of a wife, so she is presumed deceased. Also, at NH 2:88 Mary Willis Meekins, widow of Benjamin, sold in 1782 her half of New Town. Both shares originated with Andrew Willis, died 1738, who devised half each to sons Richard and George. George’s share descended to his brother John upon George’s untimely death. Richard willed his share to his daughter Mary who married Benjamin Meekins.

[12] Palmer, 19. 6 Dec 1758, Jarvey [Jarvis] Willis, parents John and Nancy Willis.

[13] Archives of Maryland, Muster Rolls and Other Records of Service of Maryland Troops in the American Revolution, 1775-1783, (Baltimore: Maryland Historical Society, 1900), 254. Corporal Jarvis Willis and Private Andrew Willis listed with identical enrollment and discharge dates.  https://archive.org/details/musterrollsother00mary

[14] Roll of Lt Perry Benson’s Company, 5th Maryland Regiment of Foot in the service of the United States commanded by Colonel William Richardson, 8 Sep 1778. Corporal Jarvis Willis and Private Andrew Willis appear on the same roster, both sick in hospital.

[15] Andrew did not appear in the tax list. Neither Jarvis nor Andrew appeared in the 1790 census in Dorchester.

[16] Harvey, Iris Moseley, Stokes County, North Carolina Tax List, 1791, (Raleigh, NC, 1998), 11. There is no record showing how Andrew or Jarvis acquired the land.

[17] Harvey, Iris Moseley, Stokes County, North Carolina Tax List, 1793, (Raleigh, NC, 1998), 43

[18] The only other person close by was Andrew No.4 who was nine years old, too young to have been enlisted as a private.

[19] Caroline County, MD Deed Book GFA: 269, 1778

[20] Caroline County, MD Deed Book GFA: 777, 1784

[21] 1790 Census Caroline County, MD lists Andrew Willis with a household inconsistent with the 1783 Tax List. The household has five males age 16 or older, six males under 16, four females, and one slave.  Possibly, this is several families living together. In any event it does not match the Washington County family.

[22] Dorchester County, MD Deed Book 28 Old 356. Andrew Willis purchased 59½ acres from Mary and Benjamin Meekins. The tract was originally owned by Henry Fisher and may have been called Fisher’s Venture in the 1783 Supply Tax Assessment.

[23] Palmer, Katherine H., Old Trinity Church, Dorchester Parish, Church Creek, MD, Birth Register, (Cambridge , MD) 19. 12 Feb 1768, Andrew Willis, parents Andrew and Sarah Willis.

John Mason Rankin letters: the real deal!

I reluctantly surfaced from a deep sleep when the cell phone rang. I looked at my watch. 3:00 a.m. It could only be one person: Spade, the family history detective. He digs up dead relatives, including Rankin relatives.

Yep, that’s the name that appeared on caller ID. I flopped back onto my pillow and waited for the phone to quit ringing. The old reprobate could just leave a message. He was probably loaded with Cutty.

Five seconds after it quit, the phone rang again. Voicemail messages are not Spade’s style. I capitulated.

What the hell could possibly be so urgent that it can’t wait until a decent hour, like 6:30 a.m.? said I.

IS IT TRUE? he asked, with considerable asperity.

I sighed. Is WHAT true?

I talked to Gams this evening. (She is also a Rankin researcher and a friend of Spade’s and mine). She claims you found copies of the John Mason Rankin letters from the 1850s in a library in San Augustine, Texas. IS THAT TRUE, and why didn’t you tell me?

My patience, if any, vanished, along with my lovely sleep.

Spade, how long has it been since you checked your damn snail mail?

Silence. That evidently took him by surprise, which is no small feat with Spade.

I repeat, how long has it been since you checked your $!#@!!&*%  mailbox?

Another long-ish pause. I dunno, he said. That mailbox down the street is a pain because I can never remember where I left the key.

I now had the upper hand, and we both knew it.

Here’s the deal, Spade. Listen carefully. I’m going back to sleep. I will get up at 6:30 when the alarm goes off. Then I will turn on the coffeemaker, have two or three cups, and scan the New York Times and Guardian. You, meanwhile, will go pick up your snail mail and see what I’ve sent to you. By then, it will be 8:30 or so. You can call me at nine, the universally accepted earliest decent hour to call someone.

 I hung up. For good measure, I reset the alarm for 7:00 am, rolled over and went back to sleep.

At 9:30, the phone rang. He was uncharacteristically pleasant.

Thank you for sending copies of those letters to me! Do the actual letters, rather than the transcriptions we’ve had, change our minds about anything? Who does John Mason identify as the father of Adam Rankin who died in 1747?

I paused before replying. As you NOW know, the 1854 letter says that Adam’s father was also named Adam. So we are still left with a glaring inconsistency between the letter and John Mason Rankin’s Bible, which says Adam’s father was named William.

Oops! he said. I guess I forgot to tell you. He actually sounded contrite. Robert Rankin of McAllen, Texas, the owner of the original letters, told me he thinks John Mason Rankin (JMR) made an error in the letter. He believes the Bible entry, which matches JMR’s handwriting, is correct.

 He continued. Also, the Bible was printed in 1813, making it nearly as old as JMR himself. It is probably the Bible he refers to when he says “my father’s Bible.” The earliest entries, including the genealogy, are probably from 1836, around the time his mother died. One would think that SHE provided much of the copious detail on the family, including the fact that Adam’s father was named William. That leads me to believe that when JMR refers to “my father’s Bible” in his letter, he is talking about the 1813 Bible and quoting his own writing. And information from his mother, which obviously has a great deal of credibility. 

I thought for a moment. That all made sense to me, even if some of  it was speculative. OK, let me see if I can sum up what we have concluded about Adam from JMR’s documents and our own research. I am accepting his information as the gospel truth, except on the inconsequential matters where we know he erred:

The Adam Rankin who died in 1747 was a son of William Rankin, who moved from Scotland to Ireland. Despite speculation by some, there is no evidence in the records that William came to the Colonies, and JMR doesn’t claim that he did.

Adam had brothers John and Hugh and a sister Jane. *** RRW NOTE: the John Rankin who died in Lancaster in 1749 was NOT Adam’s brother, according to Y-DNA tests. That contradicts the conventional wisdom, which has long held the two were brothers.

In 1720, Adam and Hugh came to the Colonies. Adam was then married to Elizabeth May, who died shortly after they arrived. He then married “Mrs. Steele,” who is proved in county records to be Mary Steele Alexander, widow of James Alexander.

Adam and Mary Steele Rankin had three sons, James, William and Jeremiah, as well as a daughter not mentioned by JMR.  James was therefore NOT, as some have speculated, a son of Elizabeth May. 

Adam died in 1750, says JMR, although county records prove he died in 1747.

 JMR goes on to provide considerable detail about the family of Adam’s son Jeremiah and his wife Rhoda Craig, JMR’s grandparents. 

 I ran out of steam. We were silent for a moment.

You have left out the most important thing, he said. He continued:

The JMR letters and Bible do not make any mention of the so-called “Mt. Horeb legend,” which contains the story about Rankin family martyrs during the Killing Times in Scotland. This undoubtedly means the legend was NOT a part of John Mason Rankin’s family history!!!

I thought about it. There is no way a family with so much detail in their oral history would omit something that momentous.

You’re absolutely right, Spade. That’s brilliant! Of course, there can’t be less than 500 trees on the internet which continue to assert incorrectly that the Mt. Horeb legend applies to both Adam and John. To the extent the legend contains any truth at all, it must apply to John’s line but not Adam’s.

There is nothing like a little flattery to restore Spade’s hubris.

OK, doll, he said, your next job is to contact all those online tree owners and point out the error of their ways.

And with that, he hung up. I hate it when he beats me to it.

I will transcribe the two letters and post them. That’s probably not necessary, since the available transcriptions are likely substantially accurate. I’ll do it anyway. Eventually.

That is all. See you on down the road.

Robin

Imagination failure: need help

An old friend and famous Rankin researcher gave me some pointed advice when I first started publishing on this website. People like to read stories, she said. She told me this at least twice, possibly three times, leaving me thinking my academic-ish genealogy articles were boring as hell.

Sometimes, though, there just isn’t enough information about long-dead people to craft a good tale. Or at least I lack the imagination to manage it and remain within the confines of truth.

In an effort to find out what might be popular other than stories, I have been looking at data on the articles on this blog to see what has been read the most often. This is what I learned:

… the all-time most read article is titled “Who Are the Scots-Irish, Anyway?” It is an historical article by a non-historian about the economic and religious factors driving Scots-Irish migration. There are apparently a lot of us Scots-Irish who wonder when and where our ancestors immigrated to the Colonies. Answer: most Scots-Irish arrived in one of the Delaware River ports during the so-called “Great Migration” from Ulster between 1717 and just prior to the Revolution.

… the second most popular article is “What is Proof of Family History?” It was inspired by a similar article by my distant cousin Roberta Estes. She and I might reasonably be characterized as rabid on the subject.

… the third most popular topic, grouping several articles together, is what you might call personal stuff. These are of no use whatsoever to anyone from the standpoint of family history research. They are just personal stories. These include one about my father titled “The Fastest Post Ever Written”, one about some of Gary’s experiences in Vietnam called  “Welcome home, sir,  and Thank You for Your Service,” and another simply titled  “Love Letter,” written to Gary on the occasion of a wedding anniversary. We’ve now been married for 58 years.

… there are other articles that definitely include stories which have had fairly numerous hits. E.g., “Family history stories:  the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,” “Family Names and Stories,” and “AHA! moments in Family History Research.” The last one probably gets too deep into county minutiae to have much broad appeal and is also too recent for me to judge its popularity accurately.

… a couple of Rankin articles have had many, many hits: “UPDATE:Rankin DNA Project Families: August 2121,” which obviously needs to be updated again. Also, “Revised:: the Most Famous Rankin Legend of All,” in which I take on a Rankin shibboleth cast in bronze (I’m not kidding) which refuses to die.

… finally, a series of articles I have written about the Winn family of Lunenburg County, Virginia, taken together, has had more hits than anything else on this website. I can only conclude that there are a lot of Winn researchers out there who are adept at finding obscure family history blogs.

See articles at these links: (1) Virginia Winns Part 1: YDNA and Some Colonial Virginia Winn Families, (2) Virginia Winns, Part 2: Colonel Thomas Winn of Lunenburg, (3) Virginia Winns, Part 3: Col. Thomas of Lunenburg, John of Amelia, and Richard of Hanover, (4) Virginia Winns Part 4: Samuel Winn, Scoundrel, and a Famous Creek, (5) Virginia Winns Part 5: Richard and Phoebe Winn of Hanover County, (6)Virginia Winns Part 6: Competing Theories About the Hanover Winns, (7) Virginia Winn Series Part 7: Portrait of Mrs. John Winn of Hanover County,  and (8) QUERY: (1) WHO WAS JOHN WINN d. AMELIA COUNTY 1781 and (2) WAS HE RELATED TO THE LUNENBURG WINNS?.

There is another whole batch of Winn articles using Roman rather than Arabic numerals, probably because I couldn’t remember where I was in the list: (9) Lunenburg Winns: Part I of ???, (10) Lunenburg Winns, Part II of ?; Daniel Winn, (11) Part III of ?? How Many Times Was Col. Thomas Winn Married?, (12) PART IV of ?? John Winn Sr. of Lunenburg Who Died in 1795., and (13) PART IV Addendum: a Friend Told Me Where Daniel Winn’s Son Thomas Migrated. There are undoubtedly redundancies among these articles, my primary excuse being that one cannot be sure everyone has read prior posts. My secondary and probably more honest excuse is that I am old and cannot always remember what I had previously written. I was in fact somewhat taken aback when I saw that I had written so many Winn articles. And I am not sure these are listed above in the order in which I wrote them.

Some of my personal favorite articles are ones that take on some family history lore that is cast in concrete (or bronze) and that is just plain wrong. Some are easy, like disproving the notion that Samuel “Old One-Eyed Sam” of Lincoln County, NC, whose wife was Eleanor (“Ellen”) Alexander, was descended from Joseph and Rebecca Rankin of New Castle County, Delaware. Y-DNA conclusively puts that hoary old theory to rest. We don’t know Sam’s parents. Proving that Eleanor Alexander Rankin’s given name was actually Eleanor rather than Ellen, her nickname, was also fun, although Y-DNA is no help there. Likewise, it was easy to prove that the Adam Rankin (wife Mary Steele Alexander) who died in 1747 in what was then Lancaster County, Pennsylvania was NOT the brother of the John Rankin who died in the same county in 1749. Again, Y-DNA conclusively proves that Adam and John were not genetically related.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF ANY OF THE LINKS DON’T WORK and I will try to fix them.

The most fun articles for me to write are those that involve finding, interpreting, and untangling a web of county records. Interestingly, it is rare to find someone who uses the images of original county records available at the FHL website to do their family history research. Far more common are people who rely on online trees. Those, of course, are what perpetrate erroneous facts ad infinitum, ad nauseam, despite the fact that the software suggests FHL records.

I will never publish enough articles to make a dint in some of the easy-to-disprove errors (e.g., Old One-Eyed Sam’s father; Adam and John Rankin weren’t related). But I CAN respond to ideas. Specifically, I AM ASKING FOR FEEDBACK AND SUGGESTIONS. WHAT KINDS OF ARTICLES DO YOU LIKE? WHAT FAMILIES DO YOU WANT TO READ ABOUT? WHAT BRINGS YOU TO THIS BLOG, ANYWAY?

Thanks for reading! See you on down the road.

Robin

AHA! moments in family history research

If you are a genealogy hobbyist, you have undoubtedly experienced one or more joyful “AHA!” moments of discovery. As my friend and distant cousin Roger Alexander says, “Nobody has more fun than we do!”

AHA! moments strike when you finally locate evidence conclusively proving the identity of an ancestor you have been hunting. That usually happens when you have been doggedly mining whatever records you can find.[1] Then, voilà, your search turns up proof.

I would love to hear your AHA! stories. Please tell me about them with a comment on this blog or, alternatively, via an email. If you don’t have my email address already, I’ll bet you can find it in a New York minute, sleuth that you are.

Here are two of my AHA! moments, one of which concerns an Oakes and the other a Rankin. Also one of Gary’s, which involves a Willis.

Claiborne Parish, Louisiana: the Oakes

My father Jim Rankin grew up in rural north Louisiana in Webster and Bienville Parishes. He was certain that our Rankins were related either by blood or marriage to the Oakes family of Claiborne Parish, but he never figured out the nature of the relationship.

So I was stalking Oakes early on in this hobby, trying to prove that there was an Oakes branch on the Rankin family tree. I worked on the issue for a long time. I had my father’s maternal line back to one set of his great-grandparents, like so:

Jim Rankin, the first genealogist in the family; Emma Leona Broadnax and John Marvin Rankin, Jim’s parents; Susan Demaris Harkins and James Harper Tripp Broadnax, Emma’s parents; and Haney and Isaac Harkins, Susan’s parents.

I dug through available Claiborne Parish records in Houston’s Clayton Library ad nauseam researching  those folks. I spread out into their extended families of cousins and in-laws. Clayton has thorough marriage and cemetery records for Claiborne. My Claiborne records expanded exponentially.[2] But I still couldn’t prove a Rankin-Oakes connection.

Gary and I were researching in Salt Lake City sometime in the late 1990s. Back then, the only way one could get county or parish records (other than published abstracts) was at the county courthouse, which was always a good place to meet friendly people. However, it is not a good way to research for two genealogists having virtually no geographic overlap.

Alternatively, one could research in films made by the Church of Latter Day Saints. These filmed records weren’t available online back then.[3] You had to go either to a local Family History Center or the Family History Library in Salt Lake City. The local centers had to order films from SLC, so doing research under those conditions was a slow, painful process. Salt Lake City was far more efficient — and way more fun. We often met relatives or friends there, or made new ones.

So there we were. To review filmed records, one sat in one of what we recall as three long rows of back-to-back microfilm readers at the Family History Library.[4] The microfilm room is dark and the readers are, or were, dusty, huge and archaic. In recompense, the chairs, which swiveled and were on wheels, had comfortable seat and back cushions. But finding and interpreting a specific record in sometimes indecipherable handwriting was always challenging. Sitting in front of a microfilm reader with 40 – 50 other people felt like being in a room full of code breakers in WW II, struggling to decipher enemy messages.

Actually, that’s a pretty good analog all the way around except for the enemy part. Although I occasionally find myself wishing I could exhume a county clerk and shoot him.

On the fateful day in question, the room of microfilm readers was full. You had to arrive when the library opened to get one of the more desirable readers.[5] We were late, so I was 6 or 7 people down one row with an antiquated reader. I was slogging my way through Claiborne Parish records. I found a succession record — called a probate record in most jurisdictions — for one W. L. Oakes in 1892.[6] Bless W. L.’s heart, he died intestate, i.e., he did not have a will. That means all the heirs had to be a party to estate proceedings. There is nothing better for a family history researcher than records of an intestate’s estate.

Better yet for me, as it turned out, W. L. Oakes had no children. Under the Louisiana law of intestate descent and succession, his heirs were his siblings. His widow’s petition for administration of his estate had to name all the heirs and their relationship to W. L. The list of heirs included  “Mrs. Haney Harkins, sister of deceased.”

 Thus I nailed Haney OAKES Harkins, Jim Rankin’s great-grandmother.[7]

I shoved back from the microfilm reader into the center of the aisle, swiveled my chair in 3 or 4 circles, sticking my arms up and down in the air while making the “V” symbol with both hands. Everyone on the aisle turned and grinned, and everyone knew exactly what had just happened.

Wish Jimmy had been there.

The Elusive, Irascible Samuel Rankin

The very first genealogical research I did was on the Rankin family. Of course. I am one. My father took our line back to a Samuel Rankin of Jefferson County, Arkansas, but could go no further.

In an effort to assemble hard facts, I quickly learned that Samuel’s age was impossible to pin down. In 1850, the census said he was 62. In 1860, he was 60, pulling off the fabulous feat of getting younger over the course of a decade. Inconsistencies multiplied as I found him in earlier records. I called him “Young Sam.”

I also learned he may have been a character. He had sons named Napoleon Bonaparte Rankin (“Pole” was his nickname) and Washington Marion Rankin ( or Marion Washington, “Wash”). What kind of person sticks a kid with those monikers? All told, Young Sam had 10 children, including eight sons. His eldest was named Richard Rankin. If that family employed the Anglo naming system for at least the first few sons, that was a clue that Young Sam’s father might have been named Richard.

The 1850 and 1860 censuses also indicated that Young Sam was born in North Carolina. Arkansas deed records revealed that his wife was Mary Frances Estes, daughter of Lyddal Bacon Estes and “Nancy” Ann Allen Winn Estes of Tishomingo County, Mississippi. Sam and Mary’s first six children were born there.

The Tishomingo records also established that Young Sam almost certainly had a brother William. The Mississippi state censuses added further confusing evidence about his age. I sort of, uh, averaged all the records and guessed he was born about 1800.

So. Here’s what I had to go on. Samuel Rankin, born about 1800 in North Carolina. Likely brother William. Possible father Richard. Whoop-dee-doo.

Armed with that miniscule information, I hauled my rookie researcher self off to North Carolina abstracts and started mucking about in Rankins. This is how I eventually became an expert in North Carolina Rankins. Do you have any idea how many of them there were around 1800? In how many counties? I will leave that for you to suss out. The point is that it was immediately obvious I was in for a long slog. Discouraged, I went back to Arkansas looking for anything.

In the Arkansas section of Clayton Library books, I found one with biographical information on prominent Arkansans. Lo and behold, one of them was Sam’s grandson, Claude Rankin. Claude said that Sam “reached adulthood in Lincoln County, North Carolina.” He then went, said Claude, to Rutherford County, Tennessee.

Off to Lincoln County records I went, armed with additional facts and renewed determination. The prominent Rankin family in Lincoln jumped out of the records in about three seconds: a Samuel Rankin whose wife was Eleanor (“Ellen”) Alexander. Turns out his nickname was “Old One-Eyed Sam.” They had ten children.

Lo and behold, Old One-Eyed Sam had a son who predeceased him named Richard. One problem: Richard lived in Mecklenburg County, adjacent Lincoln on the east side of the Catawba River. Claude expressly said that Young Sam “reached adulthood” in Lincoln County.

Following Claude’s lead, I did more research into the Lincoln County section at  Clayton. Fortunately, Clayton has abstracts of Lincoln court records. I was poring through them when I found an indenture dated October 1812 that read as follows:

Ordered that “Samuel Rankin, about 13 years old, an orphan son of Richard Rankin, dec’d, be bound to John Rhine until he arrive to the age of 21 years to learn the art and mistery [sic] of a tanner.[8]

The Clayton chairs aren’t on wheels and they don’t revolve. They are made out of solid wood and weigh a zillion pounds or so. I shoved mine back and stood up, tipping the chair over, and just thrust both hands in the air flashing the “victory” sign. There were a couple of blue-haired D.A.R. types at the next table who looked at me with patent disapproval. The hell with ’em if they can’t take a joke.

Finally, four of Old One-Eyed Sam’s and Eleanor’s children went from Lincoln County to Rutherford County, Tennessee — Claude’s second hint. One of them was Samuel Rankin Jr., who had been appointed guardian of Young Sam when his father Richard died.

Jim Rankin would have patted me on the back and said, “good job, sweetie.” I would have had to admit to him that a review of Mecklenburg court records would have turned up the fact that Samuel Jr., a son of Old One-Eyed Sam, was appointed the guardian of Richard Rankin’s four orphans, including sons named Samuel and William.

Fortunately, the elation of the AHA! moment isn’t dimmed by the fact that one fails to take the easiest route to the destination.

I could also use this story as an illustration of how circumstantial evidence can add up to a rock-solid conclusion. Claude’s two hints, plus an estimate of Young Sam’s birth year and identification of Richard and William as possible names for his father and a brother, add up to a “gotcha!” when you add the Mecklenburg guardian record and the Lincoln indenture. Happily, the fact that Young Sam was from the line of Old One-Eyed Sam and Eleanor Alexander Rankin is confirmed by both autosomal and Y-DNA evidence.

John Willis: the Wantage connection

I am stealing one of Gary’s AHA! moments here. I don’t really know what he went through, research-wise, but I do know about him accidentally tripping over a clue bigger than Dallas.

He traces his Willis line back to a John Willis of Dorchester County, Maryland. John was born about 1680 and was the original immigrant in Gary’s Willis line.

John acquired some Dorchester County land in 1708. Like all of the Maryland landowners of that time, he named his tract. Some were humorous: “Sloane’s Folly.” Others were optimistic: “Smith’s Hope.” John named his tract “Wantage.” That rather peculiar name didn’t ring any bells with either of us. We focused on “Want,” as in I want some good luck.

We should have gone to Maps to see what the name would turn up. What we actually did involves far more Wantage luck.

We are both avid readers. At the time, we were wading through the entire oeuvre of Dick Francis, a former British steeplechase jockey and writer of mysteries involving horse racing.

Gary read one that had an owner trailering his horse through the English village of Wantage. “Robin!!!!,” he said. “Guess what?”

Moral: you can never tell where an AHA! moment might knock you down. Even murder mysteries qualify. Where else, I ask you, can John Willis have come from?

Wantage is a charming village in what is now Oxfordshire County, England (formerly Berkshire), west-southwest of London. We had to go there, of course. We stayed at the hotel in the public square called The Bear. It has (or had) a great pub and a nice breakfast-lunch room lit by skylights. I would describe the bedrooms as “adequate,” but for the fact that a friend of ours — whose taste in hotels and restaurants runs to ostentatious decor and astronomical prices — called our favorite hotel in Paris “adequate” after he stayed there. We love the Mayfair, and would never demean it in that fashion.[9] Using our friend’s rating scale, though, one would probably be forced to call The Bear’s accommodations “primitive” rather than “adequate.” I would nevertheless recommend The Bear to anyone except our friend.

Yes, Wantage has and had its share of men named Willis, a fairly common name in the region. One of Gary’s distant Willis cousins obtained a Y-DNA sample from one of them. Alas, that man is not related to Gary’s ancestor John Willis of Dorchester. In fact, he wasn’t a Y-DNA match to any Willis: he is apparently an NPE. Gary is still looking for Y-DNA proof, but is 99% certain his ancestor’s home was Wantage.

The square in front of the Bear has a wonderful statue of King Alfred, a many-greats grandfather of King Charles. Below are pictures of King Alfred and the Bear. It was obviously a glorious day in merrie olde England. Or perhaps it was merely adequate. <grin>

And that’s all the news that’s fit to print. See you on down the road.

Robin

 

                  [1] Evidence includes deed, probate, and tax records, court, military, and Bible records, census data, and/or whatever other county, state, or federal documents you can find. See the article at https://wp.me/p7CQxS-il , which includes a link to an article on the same topic by my cousin Roberta Estes from her “DNA Explained” blog. Relationships in online trees do not, repeat NOT, constitute evidence. They are only clues about family relationships.

                  [2] Based on advice from a professional genealogist, I organize my research results by county or parish in an idiosyncratic format I refer to as a “data table.” It has worked well for me for at least three decades now.

                  [3] You can now view images of original county and parish microfilms at the FHL website. It is free and is a goldmine of actual evidence. You can search the FHL catalog by location. Be aware, however, that the FHL website also has family trees having about the same credibility as trees on Ancestry. https://www.familysearch.org/en/search/catalog

                  [4] Because many of the FHL films of original county records are now available online, newer family history researchers may not have had the Salt Lake City microfilm experience. It was a trip!

                  [5] The last time we were there, the microfilm readers were mostly unused. Microfilm images can be had on a computer, unless one is researching among “locked” records unavailable unless you are at a Family History Center or the SLC Library.

            [6] Claiborne Parish, LA Probate Record E: 799, FHL Film # 265,999.

            [7] As it turned out, the Oakes, Harkins, and Broadnax came to Claiborne Parish from Perry Co., AL. Perry records include an 1846 marriage for Haney Oakes and Isaac Harkins. The Oakes issue should therefore have been a piece of cake for me, but for the fact that the Perry County marriage abstract at Clayton showed the bride’s given name as Nancy. Moral: always check the original record. There were several other records in Louisiana and Alabama that could have proved Haney’s maiden name for me. I was a rookie at the time, however, and made every mistake in the book, evidently as a matter of principle.

 

            [8] North Carolina State Library and Archives file, C.R.060.301.4, “Lincoln County, County Court Minutes Jan 1806 – Jan 1813,” p. 589.

                  [9] The Mayfair Hotel is about a block off the Place Vendôme, where both Coco Chanel and Chopin once resided. The Ritz Hotel is on that square. Jardins des Tuileries are less than a block south of the Mayfair. The Place de la Concorde, where Marie Antoinette and her unfortunate husband met the guillotine, is within a few blocks, at the west end of the Tuileries. It is a short walk to the Louvre (at the east end of the Tuileries) and the d’Orsay (just across the Seine to the south).

A Field of Dreams – Dr. Henry Noble Willis (1865-1926)

Dr. Archibald W. “Moonlight” Graham of “Field of Dreams” fame did not play a half-inning of baseball for the Pocomoke City Salamanders of the Eastern Shore amateur league. And neither did Dr. Henry Noble Willis. But Doc Willis was the team manager in 1892, maybe longer. During his tenure, he was not involved in any time travel that we know of. His trips with the team seem to have been limited to neighboring towns in Worcester and surrounding  counties. However, that travel just might have helped him find a second wife after the mother of his two young children died unexpectedly. But I am ahead of myself.

Back to the Beginning

Henry Noble Willis was born in Preston, Caroline County, Maryland on 23 Dec 1865.[1] He was baptized at age 20 months on 16 Aug 1867 at Hubbard Farm a few miles north of Preston.[2] The occasion was likely a Methodist revival or encampment of some sort. Ten children from several families were baptized at the event. Henry was the fourth child and only son of Dr. Henry F. Willis  (1831-1890) and Emily Rumbold Patton (1836-1921). Two of his sisters died young — Cora (1857-1875) and Emma (1862-1863). Only Mary (1860-1941) lived well into adulthood.

The Noble Name

As noted in an earlier article Henry’s middle name seems to have been borrowed from a family highly regarded by the elder Dr. Willis rather than coming from a marriage between the two families. The most likely person is Twiford S. Noble.[3] Mr. Noble was a decade older than Henry F. Willis. Was he a  mentor? Both were trustees of Bethesda Methodist Episcopal (now United Methodist) Church in Preston and were possibly friends before that.[4] When Twiford’s son Jacob graduated from medical school in 1876, Dr. Willis took him into his practice for a while before Jacob moved to Dorchester County and established his own practice.[5] Whatever the reason for its adoption, the Willis family has used Noble as a first or middle name for five generations of men beginning with Henry Noble Willis.[6]

Little is known of Henry’s early life in Preston. He attended local public schools and then Williamsport College (now Lycoming College) in Lycoming County, Pennsylvania. He then went to the University of Maryland College of Medicine in Baltimore, graduating in 1888 as a medical doctor.[7]

He had an obvious sense of humor. He wrote on the back of a photo taken while in medical school, “When you get sick, go have your picture taken. Be sure you are ugly a ton and break the camera at each sitting.”[8]

Moving On

Like his father, young Henry looked outside Caroline County to begin his medical practice. He went further south on the Delmarva Peninsula to Pocomoke City in Worcester County. At the time, Pocomoke City was more than ten times the size of Preston.[9] It makes sense that he opted for a location with more potential patients. The young doctor may have been invited to Pocomoke by Dr. John T. B. McMaster (1828-1889). He had graduated in 1850 from the same medical school and had become a prominent citizen of the region.[10] However, Dr. McMaster was apparently not in good health at the time. He died about a year after Henry arrived in Pocomoke City.[11] It is possible that Henry took over the elder doctor’s practice. Henry definitely was close to the McMasters. He and Mary E. McMaster, the youngest daughter of the family, married on 28 Oct 1890 at Beaver Dam Presbyterian Church in Pocomoke City.[12]

Henry and Mary had two children – Mary Catherine born 9 Jul 1891 and Harry McMaster born 27 Jul 1893.[13] Like Dr. McMaster, Henry’s father did not live to see the wedding or his grandchildren. The elder Dr. Willis died six months before the wedding. Young Henry went back to Preston to help administer his father’s estate along with his brother-in-law Joshua B. Clark.[14] (See this link). The elder Henry Willis had died intestate. Son Henry and his sister were each entitled to half the estate after their mother’s right to one third. Shortly thereafter, Henry purchased a house and lot on Second Street in Pocomoke City.[15] Mary McMaster Willis was also the beneficiary of an inheritance. Her father devised his half-acre homestead lot in Pocomoke City to his wife, who gifted the property to her four surviving children.[16] In 1893, the four divided the property with Mary and Henry Willis receiving a small part that contained an office building.[17]Henry may have established a drug store in the building. In 1896, he purchased soda fountain equipment of the type common in ice cream parlors or at drug store counters.[18]

Baseball

In addition to his medical practice and possibly running a drug store, Dr. Henry N. Willis managed the town’s amateur baseball team. An 1892 photo of the Pocomoke City baseball team with Dr. Willis as manager appeared in the local newspaper.[19] Some team members appear to be high school students, others young adults. This was typical of the era – think “Field of Dreams” – when towns fielded amateur teams for friendly competition.[20] Other towns with teams in the Eastern Shore League included those nearby, such as Crisfield in Somerset County, and others some distance away, such as Cambridge in Dorchester County.[21] As the competition grew more intense, some towns employed “ringers” – semipro or college athletes – to bolster their teams. We do not know if Henry cheated in this manner. Had he managed long enough and were so inclined, however, he might have gotten help from “Moonlight” Graham. You see, Archie Graham also went to medical school at the University of Maryland graduating in 1905. He played several sports including baseball.[22] We can imagine that for a few bucks he might have caught a train from Baltimore to help out the Pocomoke City team, especially if asked by a doctor from the same school.

Tragedy Followed by Good Fortune

The family suffered a devastating blow in 1898 when Henry’s wife died, leaving two children ages seven and five.[23] They were not without a mother for long. Henry remarried on 7 Sep 1899, less than a year after Mary’s death.[24] His bride was Jessie Sensor, the eighteen year-old daughter of Rev. George Guyer Sensor (1852-1913) and Julia Frances Mendenhall 1857-1941). The reverend was the Methodist minister of several churches in the region, conducting services in Pocomoke City and Crisfield in Maryland and Accomack in Virginia. We do not know how Henry and Jessie met. Possibly Jessie accompanied her father on his Sunday visits to Pocomoke. However, Henry’s affiliation through the McMaster family had been with local Presbyterian churches rather than Methodists. I like to think that they met because of his travels to Crisfield with the baseball team. In any event, they were married in Somerset County, so we can assume it was at the Crisfield Methodist Church with her father officiating.

It must have been quite a challenge for Jessie becoming the stepmother of two children, especially being only eleven years older than her stepdaughter! But that will have to wait for the second part of this story.

_____

[1] There is no birth certificate for Henry Noble Willis, and other evidence of his birth date is inconsistent. State of Delaware, Bureau of Vital Statistics, Certificate of Death #1274 states his birth date as 23 Dec 1866 and date of death as 11 Apr 1926. However, the 1900 Federal Census shows his birth as Dec 1865. That month and year is supported by his baptism on 16 Aug 1867 at age 20 months. His tombstone indicates birth in 1865.

[2] Methodist Episcopal Church Records, Dorchester District, 16 Aug 1867, Henry Noble Willis, parents Henry and Emily Willis, age 20 months, lived near Preston, by E.G. Irwin, at Hubbard Camp, http://www.collinsfactor.com/church/mec1866baptisms.htm

[3] Another Noble family, Isaac L. and his wife Mary E Noble, was a Willis neighbor in the 1870 census. I have not found any relationship between the Willises and Isaac Noble.

[4] Email 13 Jun 2012 with Dr. Eric Cheezum, historian at Bethesda Methodist.

[5] Jensen, Dr. Christian E., MD, Lives of Caroline County Maryland Physicians, 1774 – 1984, Printed by Baker Printing Company, Denton, Maryland, 1986, 118.

[6] They are Henry Noble Willis’s son Noble Sensor Willis, grandson Gary Noble Willis, great grandson Noble Sutherland Willis, and great-great grandson Christopher Noble Willis.

[7] U.S. College Student Lists, 1763-1924 on Ancestry, University of Maryland, 1891. At p 228, H. N. Willis, 1888, MD.

[8] Photo printed on front, Richard Walzh, 205 West Balto. Street, Baltimore, 477 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, DC

[9] https://www2.census.gov/library/publications/decennial/1900/bulletins/demographic/28-population-md.pdf. Pocomoke City population in 1900 was 2,124 versus 192 for Preston.

[10] U.S. College Student Lists, 1763-1924 on Ancestry, University of Maryland, 1891. At p 212, John T. B. McMaster, 1850, MD

[11] McMaster died 27 Aug 1889 per Find a Grave, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/160117722/john_thomas_bayly_mcmaster

[12] Dryden, Ruth T., Lower Eastern Shore Maryland Marriages (including the counties of Somerset, Worcester, Wicomico) 1865-1906; Compiler and Publisher: Ruth T. Dryden, San Diego, CA, 1991, 527. Willis, Henry N, 24, McMasters, Mary E., 23, 28 Oct 1890, Wor.

[13] Social Security Death Index provides the birth date for each.

[14] Caroline County Administrations Key, online at Family Search, 169. Widow Emily P. Willis and daughter Mary W. Clark renounced their right of administration of the estate of Henry F. Willis. Letters of Administration granted to son Henry N. Willis and son-in-law Joshua B. Clark with bond of $5,000 and securities Jeremiah B. Fletcher and Robert Patton [GNW Note: Robert Patton is Emily’s brother]

[15] https://mdlandrec.net/main/. Worcester County, Maryland Deed Book FHP 1:116. 28 Sep 1890, Henry N Willis purchased for $350 from Samuel F Farlow et al a lot on the west side of Second Street with all improvements.

[16] https://mdlandrec.net/main/. Worcester County, Maryland Deed Book FHP 1:202. 25 Dec 1890, Elizabeth Grace McMaster (widow) conveys to her four named children for love and affection and $1.00 the McMaster Homestead lot, about a half-acre, between Market Street and Vine Street while retaining during her lifetime the right of use the property, including the right to lease but not mortgage it.

[17] https://mdlandrec.net/main/. Worcester County, Maryland Deed Book FHP 4:524. 1 Dec 1893, Harriet McMaster King and husband Herbert H. King of Pocomoke City, John S. McMaster of Jersey City, New Jersey, and Samuel B. McMaster of New York City sell to Mary E. Willis wife of Henry N. Willis for $1.00 the southwest part of the McMaster Homestead with 30 feet fronting on Market Street by about 100 feet deep. The lot contains an office building referred to in the boundary description of a lease recorded at FHP 8:548.

[18] https://mdlandrec.net/main/. Worcester County, Maryland Deed Book FHP 7:511, 1 May 1896, Henry N Willis purchased soda fountain equipment for $166.50 from Robert M Green & Sons of Baltimore.

[19] The photo appeared in the 1955 Anniversary Edition of the local newspaper, the “Worcester Democrat,” copy of the clipping in possession of the author.

[20] See, e.g., https://libapps.salisbury.edu/nabb-online/exhibits/show/friends-rivals-baseball-delmar/early-days-of-baseball-on-the-

[21] See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastern_Shore_League. The amateur competition grew into a professional minor league in 1922.

[22] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moonlight_Graham

[23] Dryden, Ruth T., Cemetery Records of Worcester County, Maryland, reprint by Heritage Books, 2013, p. 202. Mary E. McMaster Willis died 19 May 1898 with burial in Pitt’s Creek Presbyterian Church Cemetery, Pocomoke City, Maryland.

[24] Dryden, Ruth T., Lower Eastern Shore Maryland Marriages (including the counties of Somerset, Worcester, Wicomico) 1865-1906; San Diego, CA, 1991, 527. Willis, Henry, 34 w(idower), Senser, Jessie, 18, 7 Sep 1899, Somerset.

Drill Down Penny and Stinky

You meet a lot of nice, capable, and interesting people in this hobby, primarily online. You also meet some memorable characters. “Drill Down” Penny Rankin (not her real given name) is one of my favorites. “Stinky” Burke (fake surname) is at least notable.

Drill Down Penny

Like a lot of people, Drill Down Penny traced her Rankin family back to the Adam Rankin who died in 1747 in what was then Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, now Franklin County. His wife was Mary Steele Alexander, widow of James “the Carpenter” Alexander. They had sons named James, William, and Jeremiah.

There are a number of good reasons for us amateur researchers to glom onto Adam’s line. First, a fabulous Scottish oral family history has been attached to his name, almost certainly incorrectly. It is probably mostly fiction in any event, although nobody much cares. Second, there are a lot of cool people in the line. Two professional baseball players, my personal weakness. A Rankin who, inter alia, argued Brown v. Board of Education before the Supreme Court, another favorite. Brigadier General Adam Rankin “Stovepipe” Johnson, a Confederate who earned his nickname by capturing an Ohio town without a shot, using a fake cannon consisting of a stovepipe mounted on a wagon. Third, the family also boasts several Revolutionary War veterans, attracting family history researchers who lust after membership in the DAR or SAR. Adam’s son William served in the Revolution. Every Rankin family in the late 1700s and early 1800s had a son named William, and many were searching for a Pennsylvania ancestor. Adam’s family was a prime target.

Drill Down Penny was the daughter of a William Rankin. Her Rankin grandfather, great-grandfather, and so on, back to and including her last conclusively proved Rankin ancestor, were all named William. Her earliest proved Rankin ancestor was a William who died in Indiana County, Pennsylvania.

She needed to find Indiana County William’s father. Naturally, Drill Down Penny identified Rev. War William’s son William (a grandson of Adam) as the same man as her ancestor William of Indiana County. The line gained her admission into both the DAR and, on behalf of a nephew, the SAR. It turns out that it is very easy to prove via traditional paper research that Indiana County William was definitely not the same man as William, son of Rev. War William and grandson of Adam. That William was a doctor who died in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania. But Drill Down Penny didn’t know that.

I met her back in the days before Y-DNA 111-marker tests and Big Y tests. One of her Rankin nephews was a perfect 37-marker match with my Rankin first cousin. I was therefore interested in that line: I had been beating my head against a Rankin brick wall for some time.

We exchanged information. Drill Down Penny didn’t do email, so we communicated via snail mail. She sent me some, uh, interesting stuff. One thing was a hand-drawn map of a Pennsylvania cemetery where some people from Adam’s line were buried. There were several unmarked Rankin graves there. She noted the location of such graves with little drawings of coffins, something like this (except this one, drawn by Gary, is three-dimensional with handles; hers were just the one-dimensional shape of the lid):

Her map also had drawings of appropriately located hand drills that looked something like this (except less sophisticated, since this one was also drawn by Gary and, he says, is called a “brace and bit”):

Her idea was to “drill down into some of the coffins to extract DNA.” Thus her nickname. She died not long thereafter, apparently not having succeeded with her DNA recovery project. If she had, any human DNA would undoubtedly have been mixed with pine tree DNA. Not sure if FTDNA could handle that.

I spent a lot of time identifying male Rankin descendants of Adam via paper research and trying to recruit them for Y-DNA testing. There are now two men in the Rankin DNA Project participants from Adam’s line, identified as Lineage 3B.

Guess what? Adam’s descendants are NOT a Y-DNA match to either Drill Down Penny’s line or to mine. I’m glad she wasn’t around to hear that bad news.

I recently “met” another Rankin who claims descent from Adam by inventing a nonexistent son named Alexander for Rev. War William Rankin and his wife Mary Huston. There is no end to ways to claim descent from Adam’s line, usually involving Adam’s son William.

Stinky Burke

I published a version of this story years ago. It bears repeating with an explanation for his nickname, which I previously omitted. I’m going to use phony names and locations for reasons which will become obvious.

Some time ago, I received this email, verbatim, in toto:

 “Whatever prompted you to demote my grandfather from Captain to Sergeant?”

Huh?

I had no clue what he was talking about. I should have ignored the email, because the underlying anger is obvious. Unfortunately, I was curious, and the sender’s surname was one of my lines. Let’s call him Mr. Burke. I was hopeful that I might have found another recruit for Y-DNA testing: I am always on the lookout for living male Burkes, Rankins, Lindseys, et al. who might be willing to test. Consequently, I responded.

Turned out that I had been researching a Burke family who migrated from Tennessee to Missouri. I ran across a Missouri Find-a-Grave listing for a Civil War soldier named Thomas Burke. Find-a-Grave had him listed as a Captain, but I had seen convincing evidence he was a Sergeant. I provided the evidence to Find-a-Grave without requesting any change to the post. Find-a-Grave nevertheless changed his rank to Sergeant. This infuriated my correspondent.

I told Mr. Burke I would ask Find-a-Grave to revise the entry if I were wrong. However, a graves registration form filled out by the soldier’s son gave his rank as Sergeant. Also, a listing of his company roster identified him as a sergeant in Captain Chamberlain’s company of Union soldiers.

I duly reported the evidence to Mr. Burke and suggested he provide his contrary evidence to Find-a-Grave. He declined to do so. He didn’t care about results, unless I made the changes – he just wanted to harass me. His proof was a family heirloom Civil War pistol engraved “Captain” on the handle. His emails expressed outrage that (1) I did not immediately recall providing the evidence to Find-a-Grave, (2) it took me some time to relocate the evidence, and (3) I was “messing with” someone else’s “family tree,” which he found reprehensible. Oh, and he had “no intention” of DNA testing.

The exchange ended with this email from him:

“In the impending civil war, I will keep you tight on my rank and my confirmed kills.”

One of my friends who has dealt with such situations deems that a death threat. I do not, because bullies are almost always cowards. Her concern nevertheless inspired me to research Mr. Burke to determine whether he was sufficiently nearby to make it easy to add me to his list of confirmed kills even before his (probably longed-for) civil war commences.

Sergeant Burke was his great-great grandfather rather than his grandfather. After the Civil War, the Sergeant lived in a medium-sized community in a midwestern state. His son and grandson were attorneys in the same county. His great-grandson was an attorney and a judge there.

My correspondent, a son of the judge, left home for a small town (population less than 300) in a western state that is a hotbed of militia activity. The town apparently consists primarily of house trailers, dilapidated late model pickups, propane tanks, one bar, one liquor store, and a church. He commented multiple times in a local online discussion string, making anti-semitic comments, using the “C” word, referring to “faggot liberals,” and inviting people to fight. Another person on the string implied that he was a meth addict. A real charmer.

In response to his email saying that he would keep me informed about his rank and confirmed kills, my initial impulse was to reply as follows, tongue planted firmly in cheek:

“In the impending civil war, you need to watch your six — because there is a descendant of Captain Chamberlain out there looking for a descendant of the sonuvabitch who stole his service pistol.”

My better angels vetoed the idea. Instead, I told my friend Lynne about the exchange. She has a fabulous imagination and writes clever stories. She sent this:

Mr. Burke lives in a trailer with broken widows covered by sheet plastic. It is located at the end of a dirt road  that is always muddy. Every other day, he goes to the library looking for an email from his friend Robin. She is his only friend. The librarian calls him Stinky, I don’t know why. She had him banned from the library when she found out he was using a library computer to harass women, Jews, and others in chat groups.

He was once briefly married but was divorced so soon his ex-wife gave birth to a child whom he has never seen. He blames Communist Libruls for this because they invented divorce. That drove him to join a militia group, which meets monthly to practice drills and brag about how much ammunition they have accumulated. Stinky has 5,000 rounds, but he had to hock the gun that uses them to pay for his, uh, medication.

And that’s all the news that’s fit to print.

See you on down the road.

Robin

The Man Who Killed Jane Campbell

Here is the latest contribution from my friend Spade. Good stuff, as usual. Enjoy!

_________________

I was in my office on Powell Street when I heard a noise at the door. I got up and looked out. Nobody there. Down at my feet I saw a piece of paper. It was a page torn from a manuscript about a family named “Spear”.[i]  From what I could make out, it was about a guy named Andrew Spear who was a member of the Upper West Conococheague Presbyterian Church in Franklin County, PA. The words “He married Jane Campbell” were circled with a Sharpie and somebody had written “I just killed your sixth great-grandmother!” I stuck my head out the window. There was nobody but a bunch of out-of-towners jumping on and off the cable car. I sniffed. “Not likely,” I thought, “And what kind of idiot writes with a Sharpie anyway?”

The name’s Spade. Like the tool you use for digging up dead relatives. I’m a Rankin — a descendant of Adam Rankin,[ii] to be precise. Adam left Ulster for Maryland sometime before 1720, married Mary Steele, widow of James “The Carpenter” Alexander, and had three sons and a daughter. He died in 1747, and left his eldest son James a tract of land that backed on Two Top Mountain at a spot called “The Corner,” a little south of Mercersburg, Pennsylvania.

James Rankin, not Andrew Spear, was married to Jane Campbell. Or so the evidence suggested. William Campbell, a close neighbor of James, had made a will in 1776 naming his daughter “Jane Rankin”.[iii] James’s 1788 will named his wife “Jean Rankin”,[iv] but “Jane” and “Jean” were just alternate spellings of the same name back in those days. After James died sometime before 1794, Jane took a warrant in the name “Jane Rankin” on the tract back up the side of Two Top Mountain.[v] No doubt about it: Jane Campbell was James Rankin’s wife. They had six kids between about 1750 and 1762, four boys and two girls, one named James who was my ancestor. They all spent Sundays over at the Upper West Conococheague Presbyterian Church.

Still… there was something about that Andrew Spear story that nagged at me. William Campbell’s will had also named three grandchildren named Speer (as he spelled it): Edward, William and Frances. I’d figured they were the children of some unnamed daughter who died before William did. Now I felt like I had to prove it. I poured myself a stiff shot of Cutty Sark and rolled up my sleeves. It was time to go Spear fishing.

When I’m looking for a mystery spouse, I always like to check around the neighborhood.[vi] Sure enough, a guy named Edward Spear had been granted a warrant in 1755 for a tract kitty-corner from James Rankin.[vii] When I found his will,[viii] though, I realized he couldn’t be the right guy. He’d died not two years later leaving his estate to his children Benjamin, Andrew and Eleanor.

I kept flipping through the will book and found Benjamin Spear’s will a few pages on.[ix] It was dated 6 Mar 1764 with letters testamentary issued 8 Nov 1764. The will was witnessed by James Rankin. Dougal Campbell, brother of Jane Campbell, was named as executor, along with another neighbor named John Kyle. Benjy had no wife or kids, so he’d left his property to brother Andrew and sister Eleanor, and five pounds to his nephew, Edward Spear. That had to be the same Edward Spear named as a grandson by William Campbell. Andrew was the father of those three grandchildren alright. Now who was the mother?

I couldn’t find a will for Andrew, but it turned out I didn’t need one. He’d died intestate and letters of administration had been granted to his widow.[x] I cursed when I saw her name: Jane Spear. But maybe this was a different Andrew Spear and that was a different Jane? “Andrew Spear” couldn’t have been that uncommon a name. Then I noticed the date the letters were issued: 8 Nov 1764. The same date letters testamentary were issued for Benjamin Spear. Jane and Dougal must have gone to court together and killed two birds with one stone.

Damn. Jane Campbell really had married Andrew Spear. She couldn’t have married James Rankin until after 1764, which was after all of his kids were already born. James’s first wife must have died not that long before, and he was Johnny-on-the-spot to console the grieving widow.

That joker with the Sharpie really had killed off my sixth great-grandmother. It left a hole the size of the Stockton tunnel in my family tree. It was going to take some time to fill that hole. I needed another shot of Cutty.

* * * * * 

[i] See chart  here.. The source has numerous errors and should be used only for evidence that even bad genealogy sometimes contains a grain of truth.

[ii] A descendancy chart for Adam Rankin can be found  at this link. The author has attempted to catalog all descendants who bore the name “Rankin” and their spouses, and to connect spouses to their parents and other spouses to the extent possible. Sources have been attached to support vital dates and relationships whenever possible. Records without sources, as well as names and dates more precise than supported by the sources, are not endorsed by the author, but were left in place in hope that supporting evidence may turn up in the future. The tree at FamilySearch is essentially a wiki: a single tree shared by all users and subject to frequent error and alteration. Accordingly, all personal records and relationships there should be treated with skepticism when not supported by primary sources.

[iii] Franklin County, PA, Will Book A, p. 108. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/QPRR-N8J?context.

[iv] Franklin County, PA, Will Book A, p. 345. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/QPRL-2TC?context.

[v] Franklin County warrants R46 to Jane Rankin dated 1 Apr 1794. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/7NJS-WG3?context.

[vi] The best way to check out the neighborhood of Montgomery Township is a Google Earth project called “Early Land Surveys of Montgomery Township.” https://earth.google.com/web/@39.78528401,-77.9018602,183.73397146a,33386.66955467d,30y,0h,0t,0r/data=CgRCAggBMikKJwolCiExdXc2aWlUdDBTTVlGYUUzMWlfZzZvSmE0aG1ubU1jZXIgAUICCABKCAijrpruAhAB. This is a virtual plat map showing the name of each landholder with links to land surveys.

[vii] Cumberland County warrants S51 to Edward Speer dated 3 Feb 1755. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/person/memories/GWM6-YMC. Franklin County was created from Cumberland County in 1784.

[viii] Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, Will Book A, Page 27.  https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/7NWH-C7D?context.

[ix] Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, Will Book A, Page 80. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/7NW8-TGS?context.

[x] Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, Administrators Book, Vol. A, Page 60. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/7NW6-ZFP?context.

Family Names and Stories

Every genealogist knows that names can be reliable pointers to ancestral lines. And that pursuing your family tree inevitably produces some good stories. I’m sharing some of both here.

Burke

Our first son’s name is William Burke Willis. William is downright generic, but Burke is a solid clue. In fact, my mother’s birth surname was Burke. Her father was William Logan Burke (“WLB”). Thus, our son was obviously named for my grandfather, known as W. L. or “Billy” Burke. That name persisted: Gramps was one of at least five William Logan Burkes in the family.

The first WLB was born in 1860 in Wilson County, Tennessee. He migrated to Waco, Texas, where he became an early Sheriff and U. S. Marshall of McLennan County. The Sheriff’s father was Esom Logan Burke — thus the “L” in those five middle names. I haven’t proved a Logan on the Burke tree, but I’ll wager there is one.

Here are two Burke stories.

My earliest proved Burke ancestor was John Burke of Jackson County, Tennessee. John owned a fair amount of land on White’s Bend of the Cumberland River. Beautiful county, that is. He had a ferry there, owned enslaved persons, and ultimately fathered sixteen children in two marriages. Some of the sons turned out to be what my grandmother would call “no account,” but Esom Logan was a solid citizen, a Wilson County farmer.

John was born in Virginia during 1780-1790. He has accounted for a fair share of my gray hair: I cannot prove his parents. An early family history undoubtedly contains a great deal of truth, but is likely wrong about John’s parents. Y-DNA has not yet helped.

Desperate, I consulted the Draper Manuscripts. This is a vast trove of historical records, including letters, genealogical and historical notes, land records, newspaper clippings, and interview notes, all collected by Lyman Copeland Draper, a Wisconsin historian. The collection focuses on the frontier history and settlement of the old Northwest and Southwest Territories of the US from the 1740s to 1830. Draper’s papers are assembled in 491 volumes.  To describe the collection as labyrinthine would be a massive understatement.

When you are looking for info in Tennessee around 1800 or so and are in a masochistic mood, head for the microfilms of the Draper Manuscripts. First, though, consult a book titled Guide to the Draper Manuscripts or something along those lines.

Lo and behold, I found a John Burke in a Tennessee volume! Draper described him as a renowned teller of fabulous tall tales. The example recounted by Draper: a near neighbor, let’s call him Thomas, was riding home one day and saw John out in the field. Thomas called out to him.

John, said Thomas, how about if you tell me one of your famous tall tales?

John didn’t miss a beat. You don’t have time for such foolishness, he said. I just saw one of your cows loose in your cabbage patch having a fine meal.

The neighbor headed home at a brisk trot. There was no cow in the cabbage patch, of course.

I am not certain that the above John Burke was the same man as my ancestor John Burke of Jackson County. I have not been able to find that story again, hoping it might identify the county where John the storyteller lived. That probably says something about the accessibility of the Draper Manuscripts. However, I definitely know that my grandfather, the second WLB, was also a fabulous storyteller. My grandmother tore out a clipping from one of the Houston newspapers one day and mailed it to my mother, writing on it, “your daddy in print with a big one.” Here is a transcription of  the clipping, a column by Bill Walker titled “The Outdoor Sportsman.”

“A roaring gas flame in the big brick fireplace in the Cinco Ranch clubhouse warmed the spacious room and the several members of the Gulf Coast Field Trial Club who gathered there for coffee Saturday morning before the first cast in the shooting dog stake.

“Usually when veteran field trial followers get together the conversation turns to great dogs of yesteryears and this group was no exception.

“W. L. “BILLY” BURKE related one about an all-time favorite of ours — Navasota Shoals Jake.

“Burke and the late W. V. Bowles, owner of Ten Brock’s Bennett and Navasota Shoals Jake, were hunting quail in the Valley on one of those rare hot and sultry winter mornings. Jake pointed a covey several hundred yards from the two men and out in the open.

“BOWLES suggested they take their time approaching the pointing dog, since he was known to be very trustworthy. When the two hunters did not immediately move to Jake, the dog broke his point, backed away to the cool shade of a nearby tree and again pointed the birds.

“THE COVEY was still hovering in a briar thicket when Bowles and Burke arrived. Navasota Shoals Jake was still on point.”

Lindsey

OK, moving on. Our second son is named Ryan Lindsey Willis. Yep, there are Lindseys on my tree — one of my favorite lines. My nearest Lindsey ancestor’s name was Amanda Adieanna Lindsey Rankin. I loved her as soon as I learned the name; I wish I had her picture. She answered a knock on the front door of her father’s Monticello, Arkansas house one night in 1863, and immediately fell in love (according to her recounting) with “the handsomest soldier you ever saw.”

That was John Allen Rankin, wearing an almost brand-new uniform. The last battle in which he had fought was Champion’s Hill, east of Vicksburg, where the Confederates were soundly beaten. They were out-generaled. The Confederate in charge, General Stephen Lee (no relation to Robert E.), marched his soldiers piecemeal into Grant’s entrenched position.[1] About 4,300 Confederate soldiers and 2,500 Union soldiers were casualties. It was considered a Union victory and a decisive battle in the Vicksburg campaign.

On 19 May 1863, whatever was left of John Allen’s division after Champion’s Hill arrived at Jackson, Mississippi. He was in the 1st Mississippi CSA Hospital in Jackson from May 31 to June 13, 1863. The diagnosis: “diarrhea, acute.” That was near the end of the second year of his one-year enlistment.

On September 1, 1863, now in Selma, Alabama, the army issued John Allen a new pair of pants, a jacket and a shirt, all valued on the voucher at $31.00. Good wool and cotton stuff, presumably. Probably the best suit of clothes John Allen ever owned. That was the last the Rebel army ever saw of him. He was shortly declared AWOL and placed under arrest in absentia.

The next thing you know, he was in Monticello, making Amanda Lindsey swoon.

My earliest conclusively proved Lindsey ancestor was a William who died in 1817 in Nash County, North Carolina.[2]He left a charming will instructing his eldest son John Wesley Lindsey to “see that thay [the younger children] mind thare Stepmother and thare larning bisness and are kept out of all dissepated cumpaney and also to have sum chance of schoolling at least to know how to read the word of God.”[3]

William’s youngest son, Edward Buxton Lindsey — my ancestor — is also a story. When he was sixteen, he attended an auction of a deceased brother’s estate. Undoubtedly under the watchful eye of his brother John Wesley, Edward acquired almost everything he needed to start adult life and continue his larning bisness: a bedstead and linens, a pocket knife, a man’s saddle, a razor, an arithmetic book, a cyphering book, and an ink stand.

Edward married four times, which was a serious disgrace in the eyes of his daughter Amanda. He wound up old and widowed in Claiborne Parish, Louisiana in 1880, raising a young son from his last marriage. I felt sorry for him and tried fruitlessly to find his grave, hoping to pay my respect. I don’t think he got much of that from anyone else, except for two of those four wives: two wives divorced him and two died, including Elizabeth Odom Lindsey, his first wife and Amanda’s mother. I wish I had a picture of him, too. He must have been a charmer.

Estes

Family names are usually a blessing (see Burke, above). Sometimes they create chaos. Case in point: my ancestor Lyddal Bacon Estes (“LBE”). My irreverent husband calls him Little Sizzler.

When I identified LBE as the father of Mary F. Estes who married Samuel Rankin (parents of John Allen, the Confederate deserter), I rubbed my hands in glee. With those three surnames, I reasoned, finding his parents would be a piece of cake. Hahahaha …

The genealogy gods apparently do not like cockiness.

Turned out there were three men named Lyddal Bacon Estes whose lifetimes overlapped (not counting my LBE’s namesake son). One of them probably did not have the middle name Bacon, or at least he left no record of either a name or middle initial, notwithstanding appearances in county records.

All three LBEs trace are from the same Estes line of Virginia. And those three surnames don’t lie: there are both Bacon and Lyddall ancestors on my tree. As it turned out, I had to sift through hundreds of Estes records in Lunenburg County, Virginia, searching for LBE’s parents. Conclusive proof  nevertheless eluded me. I finally proved them to my satisfaction by the process of elimination: there was only one male Estes in the huge Lunenburg Estes family who could reasonably have been LBE’s father. And only one female, also an Estes, who could reasonably have been his mother.[4]

I like the Estes line, too. The original immigrant to the Colonies was an Abraham Estes, a fine given name for the first of the line to arrive here. The Estes family traces back nicely to Kent, England in the late 1400s. They lived on the east coast and were fisherman and linen weavers.

Broadnax

Also in Kent were my Broadnax family ancestors, a set of certifiable bluebloods. The original immigrant to the Colonies was John Broadnax,  a Cavalier, who was undoubtedly fleeing from Cromwell’s. He left his family behind in England. He appeared in Virginia just long enough to have his inventory recorded in  York County.

I don’t much care for the Broadnax line because (1) it has been so thoroughly researched it is not challenging (and is therefore no fun) and (2) my view of my father’s mother, Emma Leona Broadnax “Ma” Rankin is my most recent Broadnax ancestor. Ma was, uh, how shall I say this? Not exactly warm and fuzzy. She was an unsmiling, bigoted, tea-totaling Southern Baptist who kept her house in Gibsland, Bienville Parish, Louisiana, heated to about 90 degrees. No mechanical assistance was necessary to achieve that temperature in the summer, it being Louisiana and all. But the heating bills in winter must have been spectacular, especially considering the high ceilings in that old house.

Ma’s husband, John Marvin “Daddy Jack” Rankin, son of the Rebel deserter, was poor as a church mouse. I once asked my favorite Rankin cousin — Butch, we called him as a kid, so he is stuck with that moniker for life — what Daddy Jack did for a living. All of my Rankin cousins were or are considerably older than I, my father being the youngest of the four Rankin siblings and not becoming a father until the ripe old age of 39. So they all know more than I did about the Gibsland Rankins.

Butch’s succinct response: Anything he could, hon. Anything he could. He was a driver of a dray wagon in one census and a waiter in a restaurant in another. A certificate among my father’s records proves he was Bienville Parish sheriff for one term, another non-lucrative profession.

The cousins once showed me an old popcorn wagon stored under the rear of the Rankins’ Gibsland house, which was built on a steep slope. We all figure Daddy Jack sold popcorn from time to time, perhaps turning a profit when Bonnie and Clyde were killed and their corpses displayed in GIbsland. Ma Rankin took in mending to help make ends meet, although they often did not. The Rankin fortunes didn’t revive until their kids, or at least their three sons, escaped rural North Louisiana.

At the first Rankin Cousins reunion at Butch’s house in 1995-ish, my cousin Diane, a child psychiatrist, asked me why in hell Ma Rankin, from the still-wealthy Broadnax family despite a serious setback after the Civil War, married penniless Daddy Jack.

Are you kidding me, Diane? You remember her, uh, personality? She cannot possibly have had many prospects.

One of the cousins, Ellis Leigh Jordan, brought a movie camera to the reunion. He trained it on each of the seven cousins individually and made us tell something about Ma. The word “strict” was grotesquely overused. All four of Ma’s children turned out to be atheists, not surprising in light of Ma’s relentless proselytizing. Furthermore, a fondness for alcohol persisted in the  family. Nobody knows where any genetic propensity came from. I think being raised by Ma would drive anyone to drink.

I never knew Daddy Jack, who died in 1932 at age 56. But I knew Ma well enough. Gibsland is sufficiently close to Shreveport, where I grew up, to allow for monthly Sunday visits. I hated those visits with a passion. To describe Ma as merely humorless would prove that either my imagination or my vocabulary is failing me. “Strict” isn’t adequate, either. She once stopped a desultory conversation dead in its tracks, a bullet through its brain, like so …

The setting was her hot-as-hades living room at a Thanksgiving get-together. At least three and perhaps all four of Ma’s children were in attendance. Grandchildren were there as well, restlessly squirming in our seats. At least I was squirming: this was 1957, and I was only eleven. My cousin Marvin, the next youngest, was 15 or 16; Butch and Diane were 18. Ma’s favorite conversational topic was usually other people’s gall bladders, her own still being intact. Thankfully, that topic died quickly for lack of subjects.

Uncle Louie, Diane’s father, finally tried to break one of the prolonged silences by commenting on Sputnik, the satellite launched by the USSR the previous May.

Pretty soon someone will put a man on the moon, Louie opined.

Ma, arms crossed over her chest, fired her conversation-ending bullet: If God had meant for man to be on the moon, he would’ve put him there.

My cousins and I fled to the yard, where we pelted each other with pecans. The frigid cold was a respite.

… And now I have gone on too long. It was fun writing this.

See you on down the road. I’m happy to say that another contribution from Spade is in the works.

Robin

 * * * * * * * * * *

                  [1] General Stephen Lee used exactly the same awful strategy at the Battle of Ezra Church, west of Atlanta, and got Allen W. Estes, brother of Mary Estes Rankin, killed.

                  [2] Although I cannot conclusively prove his parents, William Lindsey’s grandfather — was a William of Brunswick Co., VA and Edgecombe Co., NC. William had three proved sons: William, Joseph, and John. Y-DNA establishes that one of them was my William’s father, but I can only prove that it wasn’t Joseph. I suspect it was the other William.

                  [3] North Carolina State Library and Archives, CR069.801.6, “Nash Co. Wills 1778 – 1922, Keith – Owen,” file folder for William Lindsey dated 1817, containing a handwritten will of William Lindsey dated 16 Feb 1817 and proved May 1817.

            [4] LBE’s parents were first cousins: John Estes, son of Elisha Estes and Mary Henderson, and Mary Estes, daughter of Benjamin Estes and Frances Bacon. Elisha and Benjamin were sons of the Lunenburg Estes patriarch, Robert Estes Sr. Robert Sr. was a son of Abraham the immigrant. In yet another illustration of the value of names, LBE’s first son was named Benjamin Henderson Estes. His first daughter, my ancestress, was Mary Frances.

 

Whatever happened to Rhoda Craig, Part 2

Spade actually wrote this article. Attribution of authorship to R. Willis by WordPress is a bug I can’t figure out how to fix. Spade also wrote Part I. Please also note that accessing the links in some of the footnotes requires a free and worthwhile membership at FamilySearch.org.

And now, on to Spade.

_________________

I took another swig of Cutty. I’d been hired to dig up the dirt on Rhoda Craig, wife of the Jeremiah Rankin who died in an “accident” at his mill in 1760. Following clues left in a letter written by her grandson, John Mason Rankin, I’d learned that she’d married a man named Andrew English and ended up in Greene County, Tennessee. Her daughter Rhoda English had married a man named John Kincaid, and her daughter Elizabeth had married a Joseph Walker. After Elizabeth died, Joseph Walker had married the widow of Andrew English Jr, also named Elizabeth. They’d all lived in Bath County, Kentucky, the next county east from Fayette County where Rhoda and Jeremiah’s sons Adam and Jeremiah were living; William and Thomas lived in Woodford, the next county over.

But there were still some missing pieces. John Mason Rankin had said that one of Rhoda’s daughters had married a Faris, so who was he? And how did Rhoda and Andrew English end up in Tennessee?

The phone rang. “Spade here… Yeah, I’ve been looking into Andrew English. What’s it to you?… Well, I guess news travels fast…  Is that so?… Caswell County, North Carolina? That doesn’t make much sense… DNA?… Faris too, eh?… It doesn’t surprise me… Well, thanks for the tip!” I put down the receiver.

It was a guy named Jacob Walker, a descendant of Joseph Walker.[i] He’d been trying to trace his family history using DNA and had found a slew of matches to descendants of Andrew English. He said the only way that could happen would be if Joseph Walker’s wife was an English. The matches were too strong to be from anywhere further up the family tree. He said he also had matches to descendants of a pair of brothers named Faris: Alexander and Isaac.

So here was Alexander Faris again, the man who was surety for Joseph Walker when he married the widow of Andrew English Jr.[ii] I started looking for his will and found it in Maury County, Tennessee, dated 1820 and proved in 1824.[iii] He had a long list of children, some with telling names: Thomas C Faris, whose middle name turned out to be Craig, Mary Ann Faris “now Walker”, Adam Faris, whose middle initial turned out to be “R” for Rankin, no doubt… But the kicker was the baby of the family: Rody E Faris — and if that “E” didn’t stand for “English”, I swore I’d eat my fedora. The only hitch was that Alexander Faris’s will said that his wife’s name was Elizabeth. She couldn’t be Elizabeth English because that woman had married Joseph Walker. I had to figure her for a second wife. Whatever the name of his first wife, she must have been a daughter of Andrew English and Rhoda Craig. I decided to name her “Sarah” just for convenience… It takes way too long to say “daughter of Andrew English whose name remains unknown”.[iv]

And how about Isaac Faris, the other Faris brother that Jacob Walker had DNA matches to? A grandson of Isaac’s named Cecil Whiteside left a nice little story about how Isaac went to Maury County, Tennessee, getting there a few years before Alexander moved down from Bath County, Kentucky:

On March 19, 1806, Isaac R Feris and his family arrived at Bell Bend on Duck River across from where Cathey’s Creek flows into the river. His wife died that night. At this place there is a shoal of solid rock making an excellent crossing. As the river was at flood stage, they floated the body across in a wagon bed and buried her on the high bank of Cathey’s Creek on land that was to be part of his farm. Her name is unknown. But this unfortunate event gives us a date when the settlers from North Carolina arrived in the area. Their children were Elizabeth, Cynthia, Rebecca, Isaac Jr., Rhoda and Ann (twins), Alexander and Mary.[v]

Here was another Rhoda. That name was like a fingerprint. Outside of Rhoda Craig, I’d barely encountered it, but it was clearly a favorite for her descendants.

Cecil Whiteside said the Faris family came from North Carolina, but a quick check of the 1850 census for children of Alexander and Isaac showed that they had all been born in South Carolina with the exception of Alexander’s youngest daughter who was born in Kentucky. Alexander and Isaac Faris both showed up in census records for York County, SC,[vi] and there was a 1784 marriage record from there naming Isaac’s wife as “Jane”, no surname, but dollars to donuts it was “Jane English”.[vii] Jane’s first kid came in October 1784, so she might have had a bun in the oven. “Sarah” had her first in 1787, so must have married not long after Jane. The girls wouldn’t have gone to South Carolina on their own, so the rest of the English family, including mother Rhoda Craig, was probably there with them.

But now came another twist in the story:  Rhoda’s oldest daughter, Mary English had married a guy named Thomas Robertson in Caswell County, North Carolina, according to Thomas’s Revolutionary War pension application.[viii] As it turned out, Jacob Walker had traced his ancestor Joseph to Caswell County as well, and it’s possible he and Elizabeth English were also married there. Mary’s and Elizabeth’s first children were both born about 1783, so it made sense if they would have been married in the same place about the same time, probably around 1782.

I tried to pin down when Andrew English had arrived in Greene County, Tennessee from land records. He’d obtained a warrant for a tract land on Lick Creek in 1783, but hadn’t entered it until 1787.[ix] There were a lot of earlier records for “Andrew English” too. The problem was that there were too damned many men named Andrew English living there. Andrew had two brothers, John and James, who had moved to Greene County, as early as 1779 when it was still part of Washington County,[x] and they each had a son named Andrew. It was impossible to sort what record went with which Andrew.

But all those Andrews gave me a clue: Andrew’s daddy must have been named Andrew too! Sure enough, I found a Pennsylvania will naming sons John, James and Andrew that started “In the name of God Amen the sixteen day of March in the year of our Lord God 1749 I Andrew English of New London in the County of Chester…”[xi] I stopped right there.

New London is the first township north of New Munster, a tract of land on the Pennsylvania-Maryland border where Jeremiah Rankin was probably born. His mother, Mary Steele, had it from her first husband James “The Carpenter” Alexander,[xii] and the family continued to live there after she married Adam Rankin, Jeremiah’s father.  There was also a Craig family in New London, though there are Craigs pretty much everywhere, and I couldn’t find a connection to Rhoda.

The word from Faris researchers was that Alexander and Isaac’s father, John Faries, had moved down to South Carolina in about 1763 from Delaware with several of his brothers. The progenitor was a fellow named Alexander Faries “the elder” because he lived to nearly 90. I dug out his 1783 will and read “In the name of God Amen I Alexander Faries of Pencader Hundred and County of New Castle…”.[xiii] I stopped again.

Pencader Township was right on the border with Marland and Pennsylvania. That’s barely a mile east of New Munster.  So there it was: The Rankins, Englishes and Farises all lived within a one-mile radius, two at the most. There was no way they could not have known each other. Hell, they probably all congregated at the same Presbyterian meetinghouse. I could picture Adam Rankin, Andrew English the elder and Alexander Faries the elder hunkering down after church smoking their pipes and talking land deals while their kids Jeremiah Rankin, Andrew English and John Faries wrestled in the dirt with little Rhoda Craig looking on and sticking out her tongue at them.

All the pieces fit neatly together now. After Jeremiah Rankin’s demise, Rhoda Craig probably took her four boys and went home to mommy and daddy in New London, where she married Andrew English. She was still in Pennsylvania as late as 1776, now with seven more kids by her second husband. I already knew that her sons Adam and William Rankin were in Augusta County, Virginia, during the Revolutionary War, but whether mom and the English kids went with them, I couldn’t tell.

Adam was ordained and married in Augusta County in 1782,[xiv] but by that time the rest of the family was already in Caswell County, North Carolina, where Rhoda married off daughter Mary English to Thomas Robertson and Elizabeth English to Joseph Walker. By 1783, Andrew English was making plans to join his brothers in Greene County, Tennessee, and Joseph Walker and wife were already on their way there.

For some reason the English family took a detour to York County, South Carolina where their old friends the Faris family were living.  Next thing you know, Jane English gets married to Isaac Faris, possibly with her daddy standing by with a shotgun, and “Sarah” gets hitched to Isaac’s brother Alexander. Once the dust had settled around 1787, Rhoda, her husband Andrew and the littlest English kids packed up, left Jane and “Sarah” behind with their Faris husbands, and headed to Tennessee.

Rhoda shuffled off the mortal coil in 1798, but by that time, most of the English kids had already joined their half-siblings the Rankins in Kentucky.

I emptied the bottle of Cutty and sat back in my chair. I’d earned my fee, but there were still some nagging holes. Why wouldn’t John Mason Rankin have remembered that one of his half-aunts had married a Kincaid if they were living right next to his Rankin cousins in Indiana? Why wouldn’t he remember that not one but two English daughters had married Faris boys, especially if they were living near him in Maury County, Tennessee? Why couldn’t I find any record of Andrew English in any of the places I figured the family ought to have been living before they got to Tennessee? Why wouldn’t he have mentioned his Faris daughters in his will?

I drained my glass. In this business, you have to take what you can get, and some mysteries just stay mysteries.

__________

[i] Much of the evidence presented in this article and the preceding was collected by Jacob Walker. Spade’s creator is himself an extremely lazy researcher, whose primary methodology consists in stealing the work of others. I am much indebted to Jacob’s meticulous research skills.

[ii] Bath County, Kentucky, Marriage Bonds 1786-1965.

[iii] Maury County, Tennessee, Wills, 1807-1899.

[iv] I know, I know… It’s not good to make up names. If we ever do find out what her name really was, I’m sure I’ll regret it… unless of course it turns out to be “Sarah”. (RRW note: if her actual name isn’t Sarah, then someone can write several emails, comments, and articles explaining that there was no such person).

[v] “Family History” manuscript by Cecil Whiteside, p. 3.

[vi] United States Census, 1800, York County, SC, pp. 5, 7.

[vii]  “Hunting for Bears,” South Carolina Marriage Index, 1641-1965.

[viii] I have been unable to locate the original pension application, but it is referred to in English-Robertson Families in America, by Arthur Leslie Keith, p. 2.

[ix] Land Warrants, Greene County, Tennessee, no. 488-747, No. 506.

[x] English-Robertson Families in America, by Arthur Leslie Keith,  p. 1.

[xi] Chester County, Pennsylvania, Will Book B, p. 119.

[xii] New Castle County, Delaware, Will Book C, p. 103.   Mary Steele Alexander Rankin’s tract was bisected when the Mason-Dixon line was drawn, and about 1 mile west of the border with Delaware.

[xiii] New Castle County, Delaware, Will Book M, p. 145.

[xiv] John Mason Rankin letter to Henry Newton Rankin dated 13 Sep 1854. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/person/memories/LDQ5-C3P

Whatever Happened to Rhoda Craig? Part 1 of 2