A-Hissing and A-Tickling

Tales from my Past

By Myra Vanderpool Gormley (c) 2013

 

A-Hissing and A-Tickling

She was just a ball of fur when I first saw her on that October night — the night Mother sent me out on my first “trick or treating”  adventure all alone and on the wrong date.

The nice lady at the antique store located just a couple of blocks from where we lived was caught off guard and without any treats for a kid who arrived on the wrong evening. However, she graciously offered to save me the kitten of my choice — if it was OK with my mom.

Mother, as I was to learn many times, was a soft touch when it came to animals, so she agreed to let me have a kitten — if I would learn to take care of it.

Of course, I would. I was eight years old and would do everything. I stopped at the antique store every day after school to check on the kittens — torn by which one to select. They are all so cute. One day the antique store lady told me I could pick out my kitten and take it home. They had their eyes open and were weaned.

Decision time! Oh, how I agonized over which one to pick. Finally, one of the kittens stole my heart. She was feisty and impish — arching her back, jumping about, hissing playfully and pouncing on her siblings.

I named her “Curly” though the reason escapes me. She was just a nondescript multi-colored kitten who might have had some calico ancestry.

Curly made herself right at home at our house. Her homemade litter box (a cut-down cardboard box with dirt from the backyard) was placed in the bathroom and she soon learned that when anyone went to that room, she could go too. In fact, soon no one was allowed in there without Curly. She asserted her rights from the beginning. Going to her box and watching was a favorite game. Her ability to mimic the humans’ facial expressions while utilizing the facilities in private moments became legendary family tales. One day we heard my Aunt Thelma laughing so hard at Curly’s bathroom antics that Mother thought her sister was going to pass out and sent me to check on her —Aunt Thelma, not Curly.

 Curly was allowed to sleep in my room and she soon took over our twin bed and learned that my feet were ticklish .We would play the tickle game under the covers until I would give up exhausted from giggling or mother yelled at us.

Mother was about eight months’ pregnant when Curly arrived and the cat discovered that mother could not reach her if she perched underneath the easy chair up in its springs and swatted away the broom. Mother was pregnant with my twin brothers, but we didn’t know it was twins back in 1948. Everyone kept saying what a big baby it was going to be. It became increasingly difficult for her to bend over, let alone chase a rambunctious kitten.

Curly seem to realize that and took advantage of having full run of the house — especially at night.

Once upon a time, Mother and her brother had gone to the Texas coast to visit other family members and she brought back a collection of beautiful seashells. She displayed them on the second shelf of the tiered coffee table. Curly considered the shells her personal toys — as well as the floor-length lace curtains on either side of the fireplace.

Scrape. Scrape…. The sound was unmistakable. It was Curly, standing on her back feet, playing with the shells on the coffee table.

Many nights, Mother, who was having difficulty sleeping in the last trimester anyway, and was becoming increasingly large, would venture forth before the crack of dawn to yell at Curly or try to swat her away from the shells to get her to stop that *&^%$  noise.

Curly would arch her back, hiss, and run for the lace curtains — take a swing on the left one, then the right one and when Mother came forth with the broom, Curly would head for the hallway and my bedroom.

The hallway — with its lovely oak hardwood floors waxed to a glowing finish —sported a couple of throw rugs. This was Curly’s private slide area. That cat could take a flying leap from the living room, hit the first throw rug and slide into the second one and then into the linen closet at the end of the hallway. She’d unroll herself from the rug, bouncing stiff-legged into my room and be under the covers in slightly under nine seconds.

The birth of my twin brothers just after Christmas that year changed many things for my family. I caught the mumps and Curly and I were shipped off to my grandparents’ farm. Sometime later in January or February, my folks and the little twins moved to the farm, too.

By that time, Curly had discovered the joy of being a barn cat. She had made new friends and no longer cared to sleep with me.

Through the years though, I have wondered if Curly’s descendants might roam the Muskogee, Oklahoma environs — arching their backs, hissing, pouncing and making little girls giggle as they tickle their feet.

Taking the Country Out of a Girl

Tales from my Past

Taking the Country Out of a Girl

by Myra Vanderpool Gormley (c) 2013

Looking back, I see a number of things that happened in the fourth grade that would forever change my life and guarantee that I would never ever be the same. That was the year I began to write — to deal with the pain of growing up and change. Growing up is tough and one of my many flaws is the inability to deal with changes thrown at me from all directions. Additionally, I didn’t have anyone who would listen to me — they were all so busy — so I began to scribble to myself.

I am not sure if it was everything that happened or just the cumulative effect of so many things that occurred in a tumultuous year. But, that was the year:

·         I saw President Harry Truman. My daddy lifted me up on his shoulders so I could see the man who was the topic of many conversations in our diverse political family. I don’t remember what the President said on his whistle-stop in Muskogee, Oklahoma that day, but I knew it was a big event and we knew he’d beat that New Yorker with the movie-star mustache — Thomas Dewey

·         Mother sent me out to trick or trick — alone and on the wrong date. She was good in political predictions, but with calendars and holidays not so much.

·         There was the big move. I went from being a happy country kid in pigtails and overalls, sitting cross legged in the grass of a one-room school yard eating fried ham on a biscuit surrounded by giggling friends to being the friendless new girl at a city school. I hardly recognized myself — decked out in a starched scratchy dress, with curls all over my head and sock-eating saddle oxfords. Somewhat shy, but terribly unsure of myself in this strange new world, I would stand in school’s cafeteria line with dread. Clutching a quarter to purchase lunch, I was never sure of what I would have to eat. There were some weird-looking food available, but I was afraid to ask about the ingredients, lest my country-bumpkin ignorance be uncovered. The exposure to mysterious culinary fare such as shredded carrots in green Jell-O and tuna casseroles educated my taste buds, somewhat, and helped me overcome a fear of putting things in my mouth that might bite back. However, there was the unending challenge of finding a seat at a table with a friendly face and someone who would talk to me. No wonder I often had stomach cramps.

·         I learned that some teachers can be unkind — even junkyard dog mean — and seemingly delight in embarrassing you in front of everyone. There was also the discovery of sweet revenge when your eight-month-pregnant mother confronts the teacher and her principal with irrefutable evidence that your book report was 100 percent correct, forcing Mrs. [W—-] to apologize in front of the class in which she had humiliated me. Always document your sources.

·         I tried to find a “nice” girl to invite to go to the state fair with mother and me. That lesson taught me how to use all my wits. I went to my favorite auntie for help because I did not have a clue as to what “nice” meant or what kind of girl it was that my mother wanted me to have for a friend. How can you tell nice girls from the others when you are only eight years old? I did not like girls who pinched you when their parents weren’t looking, but that hadn’t happened since I was three. I did not like crybabies, but had seen none of those in my fourth-grade classes either. There was one smarty-pants who thought she knew all the answers (but she did not), and who under no circumstances would I consider nice. I had crossed her off my invisible-ink list from the beginning. Thank goodness, there was another new girl in my class. She was quiet and shy, too, and I finally gathered up enough nerve to ask her if she would like to go to the fair with us. She accepted the invitation and more than met my mother’s approval. Mission accomplished.

·         Just after Christmas, my baby sister finally arrived — but she was two boys. Somehow, the name that we had picked out for her — Cynthia Elise — was not going to work. What was I to do with twin brothers who couldn’t walk, talk, play or keep their milk down? The smell of molasses and goat milk still haunts me. Those ingredients turned out to be the magical formula that finally worked for the twins’ fragile digestive systems.

·         My big sister came to live with us again. She stayed with our paternal grandmother during the war and had been allowed to remain there until now. With the arrival of the twins, mother obviously needed all the help she could get. Sis moved in, with tons of her stuff, completely took over my room, and became alpha dog. She was 15 and knew everything. Everyone claimed she was very smart. I wouldn’t know. No one asked for my opinion about anything. However, Curly (my cat) and I continued to play tickle games under the covers at night, even after sister squealed on us.

·         I caught the mumps. I was promptly shipped off to my maternal grandparents — where I was warm and happy, especially when I could snuggle up to grandma in her warm bed. When I recovered, I went back to my country school where we played Annie-Annie Over and ate our biscuit sandwiches. I no longer had to worry about cafeterias, strange food, mean teachers and whether the girls were nice or not.

 

 

Fudging Around

Tales from my Past

Fudging Around
    By Myra Vanderpool Gormley

I’ve always enjoyed cooking — as far back as I can remember. It was a skill that was admired greatly in our family and early-on I decided I would succeed as a cook. I watched my mother, aunts and grandmothers and often was allowed to stir and sift ingredients and be their helpers when I was too young to be trusted alone near the old wood cook stoves and early gas ones.

One of my aunts was acclaimed far and wide as a superb cook. Holiday get-togethers were her county fairs, when she’d arrive with her latest masterpiece and we’d oohh and ahh and then devour it. I wanted to be as good a cook as my Aunt Thelma, and I think it pleased her that I did. She did not have any children and was delighted to teach me culinary tips.

By the time I was 12 I was a pretty fair cook — I could make biscuits, gravy that was not lumpy, pie crusts that were flaky, and cook sunny-side eggs that met my dad’s approval.

My first year of Home Ec (as they called it then) was taken in the seventh grade and I was bored because I already knew how to make everything we were being taught. Except I discovered a world of cooking tools that we did not have at home — measuring cups, spoons and thermometers. My family all cooked by eye and taste — a pinch of this, a dab of that and a squirt of whatever. My mother didn’t own any measuring tools other than an old flour sifter. She used a coffee cup and flatware spoons to measure with. The lack of measuring tools might have accounted for my difficulty in learning to make fudge.

When my older sister went off to college when I was 12, I moved up the ladder to take her place in the kitchen and help mother. Having much younger twin brothers to experiment on made it easy. They loved food — especially cookies, cakes, pies and candy. They’d eat almost anything. Somehow they survived the years of my fudge-making failures — and thank goodness, for that. It was the only dessert I couldn’t seem to master.

Sometimes my fudge looked like Mississippi Mud frosting, sometimes it would crumble like blue cheese; other times it would be so hard that even the family dog would turn up his nose. The only recipe we had was the one on the cocoa can that called for cocoa, sugar, salt, evaporated milk, butter, water, vanilla and lots of walnuts. Evidently the secret to making fudge was cooking the mixture until it reached a temperature of 232 degrees on a candy thermometer. Of course, we didn’t have a candy thermometer, so I used the “soft-ball stage” method, For example, at 235° F; the syrup (of fudge) is at the “soft-ball” stage. That means that when you drop a bit of it into cold water to cool it down, it will form a soft ball. But, I never mastered this step.

The fudge recipe called for three cups of sugar — something mother would remind me was an expensive item and not to “waste it” and, of course, walnuts were not cheap either. But my father loved fudge and so did the twins, so I kept trying — and failing. Occasionlly I’d get it right, but never on a consistent basis.

Years later, after I was married and owned measuring cups and spoons, Kraft came out with its marshmallow crème and the Fantasy Fudge recipe that never failed. For years I would make fudge at Christmastime to share with the family. Dad and my brothers would rave about it and tell again the stories about my early attempts (especially the failures) in making fudge and we’d all laugh at the memories.

I didn’t realize until a few years ago what a family legend my fudge had become until I heard my baby brother telling his grandkids about my early fudge-making days.

“Why, sometimes Uncle Jim and I would eat sis’s fudge with a spoon or we’d have to get a straw to drink it. Other times we’d feed it to the dog and sometimes we’d make fudge balls to hurl out of our backyard fort and knock out the enemy,” John said.

What an ungrateful brother. Wait until I tell his grandchildren about the time I took him and Jim on the Mad Mouse coaster ride and scared them out of their wits or about the Halloween when we went to the haunted house in Seattle and John wet his pants when a ghoul raised up out of the coffin!

'Fighting Squaw'

Which Catherine Vanderpool Was the "Fighting Squaw"?

We not only have a plethora of Abrahams, Johns and Wynants, but also of Catherines in the Vanderpool family. One of our Catherines is so popular she is "claimed" by two different families—the SEAs and the YOAKUMs—as having married into them. Some say she is the Catherine who was captured by the Shawnees in July 1763 at the event known as the Muddy Creek (now West Virginia) Massacre, led by Chief Cornstalk
Some claim she is the daughter of Abraham Vanderpool (bp. 1709 in Albany, New York) and others claim she is his sister. Neither group has produced a marriage record or any conclusive evidence to prove that their Catherine was a Vanderpool.
Abraham did have a daughter named Catherine by his first wife, Jannetje WEIBLING—she was baptized 14 May 1738, in the Second River (Belleville) Dutch Reformed Church in Essex County, New Jersey. We have no further information on her. However, she certainly cannot be the Catherine who married George YOAKUM (as some claim) in 1744 in Wallpack, [sic] New Jersey. Not at age six! Nor is she likely to be the Catherine who married a YOAKUM with a marriage date of 25 April 1751 in Virginia. In 1751, Abraham's daughter, Catherine, would have been only 13 years old..
The 1751 date apparently is taken from the date of a transfer of land from Abraham and Rebecca Vanderpool to George Yoakum. Dutch girls of this generation seldom married before 18 or 20, and again no evidence has ever been provided for such a marriage. In George YOAKUM's 1789 will in Hardy County, Virginia [Will Book 1, p. 37] his wife's name is given as Catherine, but that does not prove she was a Vanderpool.
The other piece of evidence researchers have used is the Virginia land transaction of Abraham Vanderpool and his (second) wife, Rebecca. The problem is that it has been misinterpreted, in my opinion. Abraham and Rebecca (grantors) transferred 430 acres of the South Branch of the Potomac to George Yoakum (grantee) on 25 May 17511.This property eventually (on 16 July 1806) went to George HARNOST [HARNESS] Sr., one of the heirs of the grantee. The land was not given to George YOAKUM (as a wedding gift or for any other reason) and nowhere in the record does it indicate any relationship between the grantor (Vanderpool) and the grantee (Yoakum). A grantee is someone to whom the title of property is transferred. It is suspected there were family connections among the Vanderpools, Harness and Yoakum families, but they have been not determined. It is possible that they were just neighbors on the Virginia frontier.
Abraham Vanderpool obtained this piece of property by a patent granted to him 19 October 1748 and because Rebecca signed when the property was transferred three years later, that's evidence that she was his wife at the time it was acquired, which helps to narrow down the date when they were married. Lord Fairfax, from whom Abraham obtained this patent (first title deed is usually called a "grant" or "patent") in 1748, leased his land under two types of patents. The first type was for 21 years at one shilling a year per each hundred acres. The second type was a three lives lease (the lifetime of usually the husband, wife, and youngest son). No quitrents were due the first year and thereafter the annual fee was minimal. The patent required the leaseholder to build a cabin with a masonry chimney, fence and cultivate land, and plant fruit trees. Which type of patent Abraham Vanderpool had is not known.
Of course, it is quite possible that Abraham's daughter, Catherine, married George YOAKUM, but at a later date, because she was too young to have been the mother of the children YOAKUM researchers have attributed to her—those born in the 1740 and early 1750ss. Others claim that Frederick Michael SEE (SEA/ZEH) (ca 1710-1763) married Catherine VANDERPOOL, the sister of Abraham. They have used her baptism record [30 June 1725 in the Dutch Reformed Church records in New York City], and some list a marriage date of ca 1744 in Wallpack, [sic] New Jersey or in Pennsylvania, but no solid evidence or any documents of such a marriage have been presented.
While Abraham's sister would fit for age and in proximity—if she had been living near her brother at the time—the later is doutful for by July 1741, Abraham is in Smithfield, Bucks County, Pennsylvania, and there is another problem. We have a marriage on 18 January 1741 in Bergen County, New Jersey of a Catherine (aka Catrine) VANDERPOEL to a William SANDFORD (some say this original Dutch name was ZANDFOORT). If this is Abraham's sister, she would be a 16-year-old bride, which is young, but plausible, and Bergen County is next to Essex County, where the parents of this Catherine had resided since about 1725. If this is Abraham's sister, then she was already married in 1744 when it is claimed she married SEE .
A William SANDFORD of New Barbadoes Neck, Bergen County, New Jersey, left a will dated 22 Feb. 17492 in which he mentioned a wife, Catherine, and a number of children. Executors of his estate in April of 1750 were John VANDERPOOL and John LOW, with VANDERPOOL renouncing. It appears that this John VANDERPOOL was the brother-in-law in this instance and it is his sister who was the Catherine who married William SANDFORD in 1741. The family of Wynant Vanderpool and Catherine DeHooges (parents of John, Abraham, Catherine, et al) lived in Essex County, New Jersey, next to Bergen County, and brothers often are found in probate records pertaining to their siblings, especially those of their widowed sisters.
There is another problem though. If this Catherine Vanderpool is the sister of John and Abraham VANDERPOOL and is the one who married William SANDFORD in January 1741, she would have had eight children in nine years as eight children are mentioned in Sandford's 1749 will. Not impossible, but unlikely. Of course, the children mentioned in the will are his children (William SANDFORD's) and his widow, Catherine, is not necessarily the mother of any or of all of them. Another nebulous factor pointing to William SANDFORD's wife as being the sister of John VANDERPOOL is that another sister, Marguerite VANDERPOOL (bp. 1714), purportedly married a Johannes ZANTVORD (or SANDFORD), but no evidence or source is given and I have not yet found the record. Moreover, whether there is a relationship between these two SANDFORD (ZANTVORD) men has not been determined. If there is one, it might provide one more connection and suggest that these Vanderpool sisters married brothers or relatives—something that happened frequently.
Catherine (Vanderpool) SANDFORD was a widow in 1750 and might have later remarried, but she appears to have been left in comfortable circumstances,, and with eight children, it is not likely she would have removed to the wild frontier of Virginia from the relative comfort and safety of the Bergen County, New Jersey area to be where her brother Abraham was then located (he is found in various records of Augusta County, Virginia, ca 1746-1757).
There are a few other Catherine VANDERPOOLs perched upon our family tree, but they are too old or too young to even be considered in this instance as potential wives of YOAKUM or SEE.
I'll go out on a limb, so to speak, because everything in genealogy is subject to revision if and when new evidence surfaces, and suggest that it was Abraham's daughter, Catherine, by his first wife (born in 1738) who married as a second wife to Frederick Michael SEE, probably in the mid- to late-1750s and is the one known as "Fighting Squaw," a survivor of the 1763 Muddy Creek Massacre.


1. Abraham Vanderpool and Rebecca to George Yoakum. Date: May 25, 1751. Chalkey Abstracts, Vol. 3, pg. 293. Lyman Chalkley's three-volume Chronicles of the Scotch-Irish Settlement in Virginia Extracted from the Original Court Records of Augusta County, 1745-1800 (Rosslyn, Va., 1912-1913; reprint, 1965).

2. New Jersey Wills, 1670-1750. SANDFORD/SANFORD. Extracted from Documents Relating to the Colonial History of the State of New Jersey, First Series Volume XXIII; Calendar of New Jersey Wills, Volume I 1670-1730; edited, with an introductory note on the Early Testamentary Laws and Customs of New Jersey, by William Nelson; Paterson, N. J., 1901. p. 401. Lib. E, p. 408. 1749, Feb. 22. Will of: SANDFORD, William, of New Barbadoes Neck, Bergen Co., yeoman;. Only son, William, my plantation (300 acres) and 150 acres of meadow on the eastward part. If he dies without lawful heirs, said land and meadow to be divided equally among my surviving children. Wife, Catherine, to have the use of same during widowhood. Residue of my meadows on New Barbadoes Neck to be divided equally between wife and daughters, viz: Mary, Benington, Sarah, Elizabeth, Francis, Rachel and Catherine. To said wife the great Bible, and to daughter Sarah the silver tankard. Executors John LOW and John VANDERPOOL. Proved 7 April, 1750. John VANDERPOOL renounces and John LOW qualifies. Witnesses James STILL, Elipt. JOHNSON, Thomas ALLING.

Tracing Stray Lines

Vanderpools in the Lone Star State
The marriage of Abraham Vanderpool to Cynthia E. Cantwell 11 June 1857 in Fannin County, Texas1 (that’s in northeast Texas up on the Red River) is still an unsolved genealogical mystery. Originally it was suspected that the bridegroom was the Abraham Vanderpool who appears in the 1850 San Antonio, Bexar County, Texas census (age 27, born in North Carolina)2. However, that Abraham, based on his age and place of birth, more likely is the son of John Vanderpool (1794-1840) and Susannah (probably) Reese (1795-1850), who lived in Maries County, Missouri and the man who later married two Vineyard sisters ca 1860 and 1869 — in Missouri. Of course, he could have been married earlier to Miss Cantwell.

We are not sure what he was doing in Texas in 1850, but he might be the Private Abraham Vanderpool listed in McCulloch’s Co., Texas Mounted Vols., Indian Wars, 1817-1858 [see Pricia Paulkovich’s fine compilation of Vanderpools in various military units from the National Archives that were published in early Vanderpool Newsletters.] This Abraham appears in Vanderpool Newsletter III/2, (1976) p. 85].

More Abrahams show up
We also found a reference to a marriage for Sarah M. Winburn (or Milburn) and an Abraham Vanderpool dated 21 May 1861 in Cooke County, Texas.3 Is he the same one who married Cynthia Cantwell four years earlier in Fannin County or is this different man?

Then there is an Abraham Vanderpool who served in Texas’ Co. A, 16th Cavalry Regiment, CSA and is believed to be the one who died 7 February 1864 (during Civil War) in a hospital in Marksville, Avoyelles Parish, Louisiana. There is listing for an A. Vanderpool, Harrison County that is included in the online Texas Confederate Indigent Families Lists (1863-1865) 4 which may have a connection to the family of the soldier who died in Louisiana in 1864.

There are not that many Vanderpools in Texas in 1850 and 1860 censuses , so you’d think we could solve this. It has been suggested that the Abraham Vanderpool who served and died in the Confederate Army from Texas might have been a son (by first wife) of Sampson Vanderpool (ca 1797-1863) who removed to Texas ca 1848-1850 from Fayette County, Tennessee and lived in San Augustine County (1850) and in Kaufman County (1860). However, there is no son named Abraham with him in the 1850 or 1860 censuses. There is a (presumed) son John, born ca 1835, and a (presumed) son, Lafayette, born ca 1839 in the household of Sampson Vanderpool in 1850 — both of age to have participated in the Civil War, but we have nothing further on them. It is possible that one of these sons had a first given name of Abraham and is recorded by a middle name in the enumeration. Perhaps there’s a descendant out there who has information and will share.

Remember the Alamo!
Name Rank Enrolled Remarks
James Vanderpool, Pvt., joined by transfer from Allen’s Co., for duration of war; sick.
Given at Headquarters of Army, Camp Independence, Lavaca River, 31st December 1836.
Signed James C. Allen, Capt., Co. B.
Muster roll of Captain Allen’s Company "B" 1st Regiment Volunteer Army of Texas commanded by Colonel Joseph H. D. Rogers from the (blank) day of (blank) 1836 to the 31st day of December 1836 when first mustered, p. 189:
Texas Muster Rolls, 1825-1836: http://www.txgenweb.org/tx/muster.html
See The Handbook of Texas Online:
http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/CC/qcc20.html
http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/LL/rnl2.html

Based on preliminary searches in the Texas General Land Office records where one James Vanderpool received land for his military service in the Texas Republic army and whose widow, Emily [—?--], is mentioned in those records as late as 1881, this James probaby is one who appears in the 1870 census in Matagorda County, Texas. He was enumerated with a wife, Emily, two young Vanderpool children and four children with the surname of Bell, evidently children by Emily’s previous marriage. In 1880, Emily is enumerated in Matagorda County, Texas with two sons, John Vanderpool, 13, James Vanderpool, 8, a daughter, Frances Vanderpool, 4, and two other sons, John Bell, 23 and Peter Bell, 21.

According to the 1870 census, James Vanderpool is 52, so born ca 1818, in Kentucky. It’a suggested that he might be a son of John M. Vanderpool and Sarah Elizabeth Cummins, of Rockcastle County, Kentucky. However, that John M. Vanderpool, purportedly had a son named James (1813-1854) by his first wife and it is not likely that he would have named two sons James.

So far we have been unable to locate a James Vanderpool, born ca 1818 in Kentucky in
any 1850 or 1860 censuses. It would appear that he was in Texas by 1836. If you are researching the John M. Vanderpool (1783-1854) line, or know anything about this James Vanderpool who went to Texas in 1836 (or earlier), please share information — any additional evidence or new clues would be most helpful.

Deep in the heart of Texas — well, actually on the coast
Meanwhile down on Texas coast in Galveston, there’s yet another family mystery. The story goes, that one L. Vanderpool enlisted 22 February 1862 in Charleston, South Carolina, served as private in Co. A. 2nd Battalion, South Carolina Sharpshooters, CSA, and went AWOL. He is believed to be the man who married Mary McEroy (Mcevoy) about 1855. She was born about 1830 in County Kildare, Ireland. In a letter to me, we learn:

“I am the great-great-granddaughter of Mary McEvoy Vanderpool. Understand that you were doing research on Lidstone-Vanderpool. According to family, her [Mary Mcevoy’s] husband was a Robert Vanderpool, Her granddaughter, Mary Jane Christensen, told me that her grandmother never talked about him.”
The story goes that he brought Mary and the three children to Galveston to her brother's house and went back North; he was either killed by Indians or he deserted them. The children were: Maria (Mary) Vanderpool who married William Joseph Lidstone, Robert John Vanderpool, who died when he was 35 years old. (June 26, 1891) and William H. Vanderpool, born 1860 South Carolina, who married April 17, 1883 in Galveston to Elizabeth “Lizzie” Barrett . . .”

Other descendants claim his given name might have been Simon or Lyman, but a search for a Vanderpool fitting this profile has not been found in the 1850 or 1860 U.S. censuses. The 1870 census for Galveston, Galveston County, Texas shows a Mary Vanderpool and three children — Robert, William and Maria.

i. Robert “Rob” Vanderpool was born ca 1856 in South Carolina. [He was witness to a
fight/murder of Sam Roach, age 16, on 9 December 1876 in Galveston.5]. He died 26 June 1891 in Galveston, Texas.

ii. William Henry Vanderpool was born 8 August 1860, South Carolina. He married
Elizabeth E. “Lizzie” Barrett, 16 April 1883 in Galveston, Texas. He was accidentally killed died there 17 April 1919.6

iii. Maria “Marie” Vanderpool was born ca 1865, South Carolina. She married William J. Lidstone 21 September 1886 in Galveston, Texas. The Lidstones are from England
and evidently an extensive pedigree of this family has been researched.

What happened to this Vanderpool and who are his ancestors? Might there be a connection to Sampson Vanderpool (born 1797 South Carolina-died ca 1863 in Texas) and perhaps an early unknown marriage?


About Vanderpool, Texas
http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/VV/hnv6.html

The town of Vanderpool is on State Highway 187, 10 miles north of Utopia and 30 miles west of Bandera in western Bandera County. The land on which it is located was given as a headright certificate by the Republic of Texas to José Texaso and patented by John W. Smith, assignee of José Texaso, on August 18, 1849. Smith sold his patent to Victor P. Considerant, who in turn sold several tracts to Henry Taylor and Gideon Thompson. Eventually Taylor owned several thousand acres in the Vanderpool area, where he gave away and sold land for a school, churches, and a cemetery. The Sabinal valley, in which Vanderpool is located, was first settled in the 1850s but was temporarily abandoned in the late 1860s due to raids by Comanches. A post office was established in 1886, closed in 1889, and then reopened in 1902. The town was named for the first postmaster, L. B. Vanderpool [Littleberry, 1818-1886] who was the son of Josiah Vanderpool of Surry County, North Carolina. Originally the site was called Bugscuffle. [Thank goodness for the name change.]

Endnotes:
1 Texas Marriage Collection, 1814-1909 and 1966-2002. Subscription database. Ancestry.com. http://www.ancestry.com : 2005. Accessed 13 November 2009.

2 1850 U.S. census, Bexar County, Texas, population schedule, San Antonio, p. 271A (penned), dwelling 685, family number 685; Abraham Vanderpool; digital images by subscription, Ancestry.com ( http://www.ancestry.com : accessed 28 February 2010); from National Archives microfilm M432, roll 908.

3 Texas Marriage Collection, 1814-1909 and 1966-2002. Subscription database. Ancestry.com. http://www.ancestry.com : 2005. Accessed 13 November 2009.

4 Confederate Indigent Families Index (Surnames Q-Z). Texas State Library & Archives Commission Website. http://www.tsl.state.tx.us/arc/cif/qzname.html. Accessed 30 April 2010.

5 The Roach Killing Case,” Galveston News (Galveston, Texas). 26 March 1877.” p. 7, col. 8-9, digital image. Genealogy Bank (http://www.genealogybank.com/). Accessed 9 February 2010.

6 Texas Death Certificate No. 13028. Digital images, Collection: Texas Deaths, 1890-1976, FamilySearch.org, referencing Film No. 4023777; image numb