Peering into the Past

#52 ancestors Week 5 — At the library

Peering into the Past

By Myra Vanderpool Gormley © 2019 

It’s all my sister Jo’s fault. She was the scholar in the family and during her high school years (I was five years behind her), she often spent time after school at the city public library, which was kitty-cornered from our dad’s business. 

We lived in the country and rode the school bus, but on those days when she studied at the library, from about four to six, we’d catch a ride home with dad. I wasn’t allowed to ride the bus home without her so I trudged along to the library. I really didn’t have to be coaxed as I was a avid reader, but as a typical kid, I’d go off exploring for new books and any treasures at the library that were available. 

That’s how I discovered stereograms and the old newspapers on microfilm. It was fun looking at the images of the “olden days” of my locality and state, but the library had a limited supply of them.

However, the discovery of old newspapers on microfilm opened an enthralling adventure for me. Quite by accident, because I don’t recall any index being available, I discovered my maternal great-grandfather (N. B. Fricks) listed as a juror on some U.S. Court cases in the late 1890s, when the area was part of the Creek Nation of Indian Territory. 

Many of the crimes the juries heard were for larceny, forgery, counterfeiting, horse stealing, introducing and selling liquor (a no-no in Indian Territory, but a widely prevalent occurrence). Other crimes, some of which required me to use the “big” dictionary in the reference area, were: sodomy, gaming and seduction. 

A plea of guilty to horse stealing for one fellow resulted in him being sentenced to 5 years and 1 month in the Ohio state penitentiary (which lead to more questions about why he was sent to Ohio, when another man who pled guilty to forgery was sent to two years at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and yet another was sent to 2 years at reform school at Cheltenham, Maryland). The law was confusing, but I was fascinated by it, the local history, and of course, my family’s part. 

For the crime of “introducing liquor” a guilty plea could result in a sentence of $25 fine and one month in jail, or 90 days in jail and a $1 fine, but on the other hand, one Charles Anderson, charged with “selling whisky,” as opposed to “introducing liquor,” and who pled guilty and was given a sentence of $1 fine and one month. It didn’t say where the “one month” was to be spent. 

A “seduction” case went to trial and the verdict was “guilty,” but the man was not sentenced. The reason? He was charged with seducing Emma Hamilton under promise of marriage, but since conviction, he married the girl and the sentence was suspended and “he will avoid the penitentiary if he supports and cares for his wife.” A sidebar to this case: A witness in this case who testified for the defendant was arrested and placed in jail on charge of perjury.

 The old newspapers also were filled with ads and humor. One of the latter, and my favorite, appeared in 1893 just about the time my maternal grandmother and her family arrived in Muskogee from

Alabama. I doubt that she was into “high fashion” as a teenager, but I wish I had pictures of what she and her sisters were wearing in these “good old days.” 

The newspaper article, most likely written by a man, reads:

 “Muskogee girls know what’s what and any attempt on the part of shrunken and distorted and ill-proportion old maids of New England to get them to adopt hoop-skirts or any other device that will prevent a respectable display of face, form or figure won’t work worth a cent. We are with the anti-crinoline brigade.” What? I thought “hoop-skirts” went out of fashion after the Civil War. 

Sis, the librarians and those old newspapers are responsible for me becoming a genealogist, a history buff, and having a long newspaper career. How can I ever thank them enough? 

You Named Your Children What?

#52 ancestors Week 4 — I’d Like to Meet

You Named Your Children What?

By Myra Vanderpool Gormley © 2019 

While there are dozens of my ancestors I’d like to meet, mostly to quiz them about genealogical matters such as when and where they were born and the women’s maiden names, but I’ve long been intrigued with researching my direct maternal line, the mitochondrial DNA. 

As I understand it, everyone inherits mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) from their mother — through her mother, her mother, her mother, her mother, and so on. And, while both males and females inherit mitochondrial DNA from their mothers, only females can pass it on to their children. 

As opposed to my paternal line, which now extends back 12 known generations, in just five short generations, my maternal paper trail ends with Tabitha Morgan (born 1797 in South Carolina), so I’d like to meet her daughter, Elizabeth Morgan Kirby (1828-1906), and learn more about her and her mom. 

I first met Elizabeth Morgan Kirby when I found her marriage record dated 9 July 1850 in DeKalb County, Georgia where she married David Gresham Awtrey. Locating the couple in the 1850 census provided some inconsistent information — first, they were enumerated on 18 October of that year, living with her parents (John Kirby and Tabitha Morgan) in Panthersville, DeKalb County, Georgia and secondly, the bride was four years older than the bridegroom. 

Interestingly, David Gresham Awtrey is also enumerated on 16 October 1850 with his parents (Eldridge Awtrey and Margaret George) in Flat Shoals, DeKalb County, Georgia. He was listed as their 18-year-old son, even though his marriage record plainly reveals he and Elizabeth were married in July that year. Don’t you love conflicting data? 

The bridegroom’s paternal grandmother was living in Panthersville, DeKalb County, Georgia in 1850 also. She was enumerated on the same day and just one page away from where Elizabeth Morgan Kirby and David Gresham Awtrey are listed with her parents. How well the families knew each other is anyone’s guess, but Panthersville was a small community (and still is) in metro Atlanta. 

Elizabeth Morgan Kirby and David Gresham Awtrey lived long lives (she died in 1906; he died in 1902) and produced 11 children. I’d like to know if I have all of their names recorded correctly and then ask Elizabeth what was behind her creativeness in the naming department? 

I know my great-grandmother, Araminta — their first child — was named for her paternal grandmother, but why were the two additional names — Rhody Ella — added? 

Most of their  children were given names with family connections, such as Margaret Ann Tabitha (1856-1943) who evidently was named for David Gresham’s mother (Margaret George) and Elizabeth's  mother (Tabitha Morgan), but why did you stick in the Ann? 

I am curious as to how you picked the name of David Ella for your seventh child? Obviously, she was named for her father, but whom was the Ella for? 

I haven’t figured out the origins or connections to some of the other names bestowed upon the children, such as Clinton Almanzer (1855-1897), Henry Crockett (1869-1901-10), Ophelia (1873-1960), or Wylie Hall (b. ca 1875). And, by the way, what happened to Wylie? 

Next, I have some questions about what you and the children were doing during the Civil War. I know David Gresham Awtrey served in the Confederate States Army and his company was captured in July of 1864. After the war, times were obviously difficult for your family, is that why you left the Atlanta area and removed to Saint Clair County Alabama? But why the move to Haralson County, Georgia by 1880? And, where were you hiding in the 1900 census? 

Additionally, tell me more about your mom – Tabitha Morgan. Where in South Carolina was she born and when and where did she marry your dad? Oh, never mind, just fill out this Family Group Sheet for me. 

Please tell me more about my great-grandmother, Araminta. Family stories call her the “dark and feisty one.” Do tell. I’m all ears. 

Untangling gnarled branches of family trees

#52 ancestors 2019 No. 3.
Prompt: Unusual Name

Untangling gnarled branches of family trees 

By Myra Vanderpool Gormley © 2019 

While the name of Araminta is somewhat unusual, or so I thought, it was a fairly popular name in my family for several generations, including my maternal great-grandmother Araminta Awtrey (1851-1927) who was named for her grandmother, Araminta Bankston (1782-1861).

It turns out that a search for this given name shows hundreds so named in the 1850 U.S. census in Alabama, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, as well as in Massachusetts, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio and Missouri, which means it was widespread in American families by the middle of the 19th century.

 “Araminta is one of the many literary coinages of the Restoration period, [1660-1714] in this case possibly a conflation of Arabell and Aminta,” according to The Oxford Dictionary of English Christian Names (Withcombe, 1977). 

The first of this name I’ve found in my family was Araminta Bankston and it was her 1800 Marriage Bible that put me on the quest to find her father — a Jacob Bankston. See earlier blog: https://shakingfamilytrees.blogspot.com/2019/01/pass-sorting-hat.html 

Having eliminated a childless couple — Jacob Bankston (1720-1757) and Elinor Cock, of Philadelphia, listed in an old genealogy — as the parents of Araminta’s father, Jacob, I turned back to sorting through Georgia records looking for clues and evidence. Three records proved to be most helpful. Two appear in The Early Records of Georgia, Volume I, Wilkes County. (Abstracted and compiled by Grace Gillam Davidson, published 1933 in Macon, Georgia) and now available online at: http://www.giddeon.com/wilkes/books/early-records-of-ga-vol 1/index.shtml 

1. There is a 1786 deed in Wilkes County, Georgia, which mentioned that Peter, Daniel and Jacob Bankston sold 400 acres in Pennsylvania, which was “and from our father, Laurence Bankston.” (Wilkes County, GA, Deed Book AA — 1785-1787 p. 127.) 

2. This same trio also sold 37.5 acres in Philadelphia, mentioning that it was “willed to our mother, Rebecca Hendricks.” (Wilkes County, GA, Deed Book AA — 1785-1787 p. 125) 

3. On 9 June 1811 in Clarke County, Georgia, the following record was recorded regarding a Creek Indian Depredation Claim of 1782 [emphasis mine]: “Whereas I Jacob Banckston is about to remove to the Missippi state [sic] this to sertyfy [certify] that I have bargind and sold unto Elijah Banckston, my son all my right[s] and title to the claim that I did againstt the Creek Nations of Indians for property taken at McNabs Fort Wilk[es] County 1782 which property was valued to five hundred and fifty five dollars and I do hereby give over all my right[s] and title to the above mentioned claim unto to above Elijah Banckston or sum written and hereby in power him to Recept for the same in my name and this my order shall recept to whom may be impowerd to pay of [off] the claim. Signed Jacob Banckston. 

So, there is a Jacob Bankston who was the son of Lawrence Bankston and Rebecca Hendricks and he had a son, Elijah Bankston, and he planned to leave Georgia for the “Missippi state” [sic] which would have been the Mississippi Territory in 1811 as Mississippi was not yet a state. Is this Jacob the father of my Araminta, and was he also the Jacob Bankston who married Nancy Brewer on 5 October 1808 in Clarke County, Georgia and whose maiden name has been misread as Moore and Brown by various researchers? If so, then that was his second marriage. Is this why my Araminta Bankston or at least her husband, Isaac Awtrey, went to Mississippi about 1810 but only stayed a short time before returning to northeast Georgia? 

Some genealogical problems are not resolved easily and some seemingly are never solved completely. Figuring out where Jacob Bankston fit into the household of Lawrence Bankston (1704-1771) and Rebecca Hendricks (1710 -before 1786) required additional and in-depth research and a number of cousins working together. 

How we figured out when this Jacob was born:
 1. His parents, Lawrence Bankston and Rebecca Hendricks were married about 1726 in Pennsylvania and lived there first, but by 1744 Lawrence was listed as a taxpayer in Edgecombe County, North Carolina. Land and court records pertaining to Lawrence’s estate reveal that he had five sons, and at least one daughter — who married James Lea. 

2. In a 1793 a deposition of James Lea pertaining to land owned by Lawrence Bankston in Caswell County, North Carolina, he said that Andrew was his (Lawrence’s) eldest son, Peter was the second son, Lawrence (Jr.) was the third, Daniel was the fourth and Jacob was the fifth son, and the youngest son. 

3. Children in this time and locality were frequently born about two years apart, so based on the eldest child, probably a daughter, being born within a year after the couple was married, say 1727, this couple could have had six children born from ca 1727 to about 1739, using an estimated time frame of about two years between each child (six children x 2 years apart = 12 years). There also is possibly another daughter that researchers believe is part of this family, but evidence is lacking. If Jacob is the youngest child (we only know he is the youngest son) of Lawrence and Rebecca, his date of birth could range from about 1739 to 1743. Of especial interest in figuring out the ages of the sons of Lawrence is the 1755 tax list of Orange County, North Carolina, where is listed Lawrence Bankson [sic], Esq. and sons — 5 white polls. To be counted in the poll, each son had to be 16 years of age or older, which verified that Lawrence had four sons in 1755 — all born before 1739, but his fifth and youngest son, Jacob, evidently was born after 1739.

 4. We also know the birthdate of this Jacob’s son, Elijah (probably his eldest child). It was 1765 (thanks to his Revolutionary War pension application). Men seldom married before age 21 in this time and locality, so it can be estimated that Jacob probably married about 1764, and that he was born about 1740, give or take a couple of years. 

So far my two Aramintas have given me enough genealogical puzzles to entertain me for years — one to untangle this Bankston line and the other to sort out the gnarled branches of the Awtrey/Autry family. Bless their hearts.

Pass the Sorting Hat

2019—No. 2.
Prompt: Challenge

Pass the Sorting Hat 

By Myra Vanderpool Gormley © 2019 

The problem is not finding ancestors, it is the challenge of sorting them (Where is that enchanted sorting hat of Hogwarts houses fame when I need it?). Another challenge is proving that a particular Jacob is the one that belongs in my tree — and is not someone else of the same name. Additionally, men who marry women of the same given name, thus eliminating one sorting tool, should suffer serious penalties, such as being forced to translate a thousand Latin parish records or sort out my Marys, Elizabeths, and Annes. 

One of my challenges is to disprove all the twisted, gnarled trees out there — in print and online. I realize that will never happen, but I can dream. My Jacob Bankston dangles upon dozens, perhaps hundreds, of trees. He has been linked to several wives (most of them incorrectly); his date of birth is unproven, and so is his exact date of death, but he appears in many records and a great deal of valid information about him exists. Unfortunately, the good has been tossed into a mix with the bad, creating a gallimaufry. 

What has really thrown a monkey wrench into the works is once upon a time many years ago there was a genealogy published. Like all genealogies, it has errors, and too many family historians have relied upon this one source without verifying its material. To confound the problem, the compiler seldom cited sources, or did not do so specifically, so it is impossible to determine which records were used for individual facts. (An example is a citation of “Index Holy Trinity Church, p. 10” — there are thousands of churches in the USA of this name and what is this an index to?)

I, too, started with this old genealogy, but when an 1800 Family Bible of Isaac Autry/Awtrey and Araminta Bankston who married that year was found in a descendant’s trunk in the attic, it revealed that my 4-great-grandmother, Araminta Bankston, was the daughter of a Jacob Bankston. I was elated, thinking I had solved a problem. But, a challenge promptly popped up. According to this old genealogy, there were two Jacob Bankstons (father and son); one born in 1731 in Philadelphia and one born about 1760 in North Carolina. My Araminta was born in 1782 in Georgia (I had her date of birth from her tombstone and the family Bible). So, technically, either of these Jacobs could be her father. I had no idea which one, so I started digging in the traditional records — vitals, land, probate and taxes. 

Georgia land records rewarded me with a deed which provided a wife’s name for one of the Jacob Bankstons. The deed showing Jemima as Jacob's wife was made on February 10, 1798 (Hancock County, Georgia Deed Book A-B, page 501). Some church records in Clarke County show a Jacob and Jemima Bankston as members. However, I still did not know how old this Jacob Bankston was, or if he was the father of my Araminta. Purportedly, he had died about 1817 in Georgia, but no record of probate could be found, and no exit deeds for him, although he more or less vanished from the tax lists of Georgia about 1818. 

According to Dr. Peter Stebbins Craig (1928-2009), the Swedish Colonial Society’s world-renowned historian and genealogist who specialized in 17th-century Swedish and Finnish immigrants to the Delaware River Valley, my Georgia Bankston family was part of the group that is known as the Swedes on the Delaware. (www.ColonialSwedes.net). Thanks to him, I had fresh avenues to explore to identify my Jacob. 

Luckily for descendants, many of the records of these early Swedish families have survived and have been microfilmed. I found a marriage record for a Jacob Bankston and an Elinor Cox dated 14 June 1753 (Gloria Dei [Old Swedes] Church, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Marriages, Baptisms and Burials, 1750-1789, FHL #511,806, p. 11). That information matched what the old genealogy claimed. 

Gloria Dei (Old Swedes Church) Philadelphia

By Beyond My Ken - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0,

 https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=32050102

However, I also found in those records that a Jacob Bankston

died there on 5 August and was buried 6 August 1757. He was 37 years old. That created another problem — this makes his birth year 1720 rather than 1731 as the old genealogy claimed. Additional research in Philadelphia records turned up a 1757 Will for Jacob Bankston. This Jacob had a wife, Elinor; she was named in his Will along with a brother, John, his mother, and some other relatives, but no mention of any children. That fact clearly eliminated this Jacob and Elinor as the parents of my Jacob or the other three children listed in the old genealogy. In the process, it also suggested that the birth date of 1731 used in the old genealogy had no evidence to back it up. 

The Reconstructed 1790 Census of Georgia (De Lamar and Rothstein, 1985) lists only one Jacob Bankston. It had been an early indicator that there might be a problem with the old genealogy. Next I tackled the Georgia Tax Digests (Volume I-V) covering the years from 1789 to 1817. In order to keep track of the many Bankstons and the numerous counties in which I found them in northeast Georgia, I created a spreadsheet. My conclusion is there was only one Jacob Bankston, and he was not born in 1731, and he was not the son of the childless Jacob Bankston and Elinor Cox. 

When a thorough search in pre-1850 Georgia probate, land, and tax records failed to turn up a Jacob Bankston Jr. (born ca 1760), more challenges surfaced. Where had the compiler of the old genealogy found him and who was the Jacob listed in the Family Bible as my Araminta’s father? 

Little did I realize that this genealogical challenge had just begun. Stay tuned for the next chapter(s).

Help! There are Walloons in my tree

2019—No. 1. Prompt: First

Help! There are Walloons in my tree 

By Myra Vanderpool Gormley @2019 

Some of my ancestors, who were among the first settlers of New York in 1624, were not Dutch or Huguenots. They were Walloons — French-speaking inhabitants of what is today southern Belgium and an adjacent part of France. They were Protestants who fled the Spanish regime and went first to the Netherlands and then to New Netherland. 

They arrived in 1624, but so far it has not been determined whether they sailed on the de Eendrach [Unity] in January 1624 or on the Nieuw Nederland. The later sailed from Amsterdam on or after 30 March 1624. While no passenger lists for these two ships exist, “several passengers can be identified, based on records of dismissals from the Amsterdam French Church (1624) and records of the Dutch West Indies Company,” according to Henry B. Hoff in his article “The First Settlers of New York in 1624.” [1] 

This year marks the 395th anniversary of the arrival of the first known immigrant ancestors of mine. They were Ghislain Vigné and his wife, Adrienne Cuvellier, and (presumably) their three daughters — Maria, Christina, and Rachel. It is possible there were other children in this family who did not survive. Their only known son, Jan, who was born about 1624, is considered to be the first European male child born in New Netherland. 

According to Harry Macy, Jr. F.A.S.G., F.G.B.S. in his article “375th Anniversary of the Eendracht and Nieuw Nederland,” [2] those who can trace a line to one or more of the four first families of New Netherland — Rapalje, Monfort, du Trieux and Vigné — must number in the millions. So obviously I have lots of cousins out there. However, the Vigné line “daughtered out” and descendants today, including myself, will be found other surnames. 

My branch descends via Maria Vigné, born ca 1613, probably in Valenciennes, Nord-Pas-de-Calais (now Hauts-de-France) who married first Jan Pieters Roos in New Netherland and after his death, married secondly, my ancestor, Abraham Isaacsen Ver Planck, about 1634. [3] 

They had nine known children, including my 8-great-grandmother, Ariantje Ver Planck, born 1646, who married Melgert Vanderpool Sr. in 1668, and had eight children. 

Leiden, Zuid-Holland, Netherlands 

While updating research on Ghislain Vigné and Adrienne Cuvellier, I made a couple of discoveries about them and the city in which they lived prior to coming to New Netherland. They joined the Walloon Church in Leiden (Netherlands) in 1618. Five of their children, including a set of twins, are listed in the Register of Baptisms there from 1618 to 1623. 

Leiden, at that time was a small city, located about 25 miles from Amsterdam. It had a population of about 45,000 in 1622. Among the famous people who called Leiden their hometown was Rembrandt Harmenzoon van Rijn (1606-1669) and other Dutch Masters such as Jan Lievens (1607-1674) and Jan van Goyen (1596-1656). Rembrandt even lived in the same district as the Pilgrim Fathers, in the area surrounding Pieterskerk — a late-Gothic church, also called the church of the Pilgrim Fathers. 

This raises the possibility that my New Netherland Walloon family might have known some of my husband’s Pilgrim ancestors — the Mitchells, and Francis Cooke and Hester le Mahieu (who married about 20 July 1603, in Leiden; Hester was the daughter of Walloons). These families were all in Leiden about the same time. Additionally, some of the Pilgrims attended the same church — the Walloon Church (Vrouwekerk). They might have worked together in the cloth industry as weavers, wool combers, carders, or cloth-fullers. 

Perhaps the Walloon ancestry of Hester le Mahieu connects to my Vigné and Cuvelliers. If so, such a connection would probably date back to the middle-to-early 1500s and would be a first for my genealogical research outside of Switzerland.

Endnotes:

[1] American Ancestors Magazine. Boston, MA: New England Historic Genealogical Society, 2010. (Volume 11.1 (2010), pp. 28-28. Online database https://www.AmericanAncestors.org/

[2] Macy, Harry Jr., The NYG&B Newsletter, Winter, 1999, The New York Genealogical and Biographical Society at http://www.newyorkfamilyhistory.org/

[3] Ver Planck, William Edward, compiler, History of Abraham Isaacse Ver Planck, and his Male Descendants in America (1892; reprint, Fishkill Landing, New York: J. W. Spaight, 1892). (http://hdl.handle.net/2027/yale.39002040693997 : accessed 7 April 2016.