Tombstone Tuesday: Benjamin F. Cooley, Master Clock Maker
I came across an interesting story while researching my sister-in-law’s ancestors. Benjamin F. Cooley is her great-great-great grandfather, one of the early settlers of Grayson County, Virginia, and at the time one of the finest clock makers in the country. Here is his story.
Most family researchers believe he was the son of Abraham and Sarah (Reeder or Reader) Cooley, and if so, was probably born in Orange County, New York on August 3, 1774. He was their firstborn child after their marriage in 1773. Of course, this time in American history was volatile and records indicate that Abraham Cooley was a staunch patriot.
On April 29, 1774 New York committee members drew up a pledge and sent it around to all counties and towns:
Persuaded that the salvation of the rights and liberties of America depend, under God, on the firm union of its inhabitants in a vigorous prosecution of the measures necessary for its safety; and convinced of the necessity of preventing anarchy and confusion which attend the dissolution of the powers of government, we, the freemen, freeholders and inhabitants of ________ do, in the most solemn manner, resolve never to become slaves; and do associate, under all the ties of religion, honor, and love of our country, to adopt and endeavor to carry into execution whatever measures are recommended by the Continental Congress, or resolved upon by our Provincial Convention, for the purpose of preserving our Constitution, and opposing the execution of the several arbitrary acts of the British Parliament, until a reconciliation between Great Britain and America, on constitutional principles (which we must ardently desire) can be obtained; and that we will in all things follow the advice of our General Committee respecting the purposes aforesaid, the preservation of peace and good order, and the safety of individuals and property.
Abraham Cooley appeared on the pledge for the Cornwall precinct of Orange County, and later served as a private under the command of Captain Phenihas Rumsey’s company. Following the war, it is believed that Abraham and Sarah migrated to North Carolina and later to Montgomery County, Virginia, from which Grayson County was formed (and later Carroll County).
Benjamin married Jane Dickey on October 1, 1805 in Grayson County. In 1820 there were two adults and seven children enumerated, and nine other persons not Indians and not taxed (perhaps slaves?). Carroll 1765-1815, The Settlements: A History of the First Fifty Years of Carroll County, Virginia by John P. Alderman indicates the following children were born to Benjamin and Jane: Martin, Mary, William, Nancy, Rebecca, Eliza, Amanda, James Dickey (my sister-in-law’s second great grandfather), Elizabeth, John and Julia. The family lived on Coal Creek.
After Carroll County was formed from Grayson County, Benjamin’s name appeared on records for the first court held in the county for the term beginning June 1842 and soon thereafter he was appointed Sheriff. Two sources, Pioneer Settlers of Grayson County by B.F. Nuckolls and Footprints on the Sands of Time by Dr. Aras B. Cox, indicate that “Esquire Cooley was a useful and honored citizen, and had an intelligent and highly respected family.”
Dr. Cox wrote of Benjamin:
No modern Tubal Cain could have excelled him as an artificer in his superior skill in working metals. He made some of the finest clocks in the United States . . . [one clock] not only kept the usual order of time, but the days of the week and the month, and the changes of the moon.
Clocks and time pieces were few and far between at that time, according to Dr. Cox. “The twelve o’clock mark for the sunshine in the open door on the floor, was the only way many of the pioneers could tell the time of day.” Benjamin, or Esquire Cooley as Cox referred to him, decided to travel to Salem, North Carolina (perhaps in the early 1800’s) to learn how to make clocks under the tutelage of the Moravians.
Benjamin, believing the price they charged was too much, vowed he would not pay the price and would instead teach himself how to make clocks. He returned home and visited William Bourne, owner of a grandfather clock, the first one ever brought to Grayson. Its works were made of brass, showing the time and moon changes. When Benjamin asked if he might make a pattern of the clock, Mr. Bourne consented.
Benjamin took the clock apart, piece by piece, and made patterns of each. From those patterns he made clocks and sold them throughout the country.
In 2013 the Cooley family donated one of those clocks, previously displayed at the Carroll County Library, to the Carroll County Historical Society. It is described as seventy-eight inches high with an eight-day wind. The large dial features two sequences, one a smiling moon over a landscape and a similar moon over a seascape on the other side. A 30-day calendar is also included (The Carroll News).
Benjamin died on March 24, 1847 at the age of seventy-two. He is buried in the Cooley Cemetery in Carroll County. Jane, several years younger than her husband, died on January 22, 1872.
Did you enjoy this article? Yes? Check out Digging History Magazine. Since January 2018 new articles are published in a digital magazine (PDF) available by individual issue purchase or subscription (with three options). Most issues run between 70-85 pages, filled with articles of interest to history-lovers and genealogists — it’s all history, right? 🙂 No ads — just carefully-researched, well-written stories, complete with footnotes and sources.
Want to know more or try out a free issue? You can download either (or both) of the January-February 2019 and March-April 2019 issues here: https://digging-history.com/free-samples/
Thanks for stopping by!
Feisty Females: Sarah Campbell a.k.a. “Aunt Sally”
I ran across an article published in the January 13, 1878 issue of the Chicago Tribune entitled “The Women of the Hills” and written by a correspondent for the St. Paul Pioneer-Press. The correspondent wrote his thoughts on some of the more “colorful” women of the wild and woolly South Dakota Black Hills. He was particularly enamored with Martha Canary, a.k.a. Calamity Jane, calling her “an original in herself” and someone who despised hypocrisy, imitated no one and was “easily melted to tears.”
His list included Belle Siddons, a.k.a. Monte Verde, Kitty LeRoy, known as the queen of just about everything and a young woman known only as Nellie of Central City. His list of colorful characters ended with a paragraph on a “large negro woman, almost as broad as she is long” by the name of “Aunt Sally”.
Sarah Campbell was born on July 10, 1823 in Kentucky to an African American slave named Marianne. It’s possible that the slave owner was Sally’s father because it had been stipulated that Marianne and her children were to be set free upon his death. Marianne instead remained enslaved until her death in 1834.
Six days following her mother’s death, Sally was sold to Henry Choteau, cousin to St. Louis fur trader Pierre Choteau, Jr., who had founded Fort Pierre Choteau in 1832 as a trading post in what would later be called Dakota Territory. Sally, just eleven years old at the time, objected and filed an unlawful detainment lawsuit against Choteau in 1835. With the help of an attorney she won the lawsuit in 1837, and her freedom, and received one penny in damages.
Before her freedom was granted, Sally had been hired out as a cook on steamboats which plied the waters of the upper Missouri River in support of the lucrative fur trade business. After winning her lawsuit, she continued to work on the steamboats and married another steamboat worker from Illinois.
Together they had one son named St. Clair (or Sinclair). Little is known about her life during that time since African American history was sketchy at best during the nineteenth century. St. Clair’s name first appears on the 1870 census at Fort Randall in Dakota Territory where he operated a ferry service until his death in 1885.
According to BlackPast.org, Sally moved to Bismarck, Dakota Territory as a widow. She owned and operated a private club and was a laundress and midwife, affectionately known as “Aunt Sally”. The following year she made history, becoming the first non-native woman to enter the Black Hills when she joined George Custer’s Black Hills Expedition.
Aunt Sally, the expedition’s cook, served over a thousand men. Some have claimed she cooked for Custer, but he had written a letter to his wife and mentioned a cook named Johnson. According to an 1880 Black Hills Daily Times article, she cooked for John Smith, a sutler who sold provisions to the army. She was said to have been handy with a frying pan, not only for cooking purposes, but in fending off anyone who got fresh with her.
During the expedition Sally joined twenty other residents of Bismarck and formed the Custer Park Mining Company. According to True West Magazine, it was the expedition’s intentions all along to not only find a suitable site for a military post to address the Indian problem, but to check out rumors of gold in the Black Hills. After reaching French Creek, two miners began panning for gold and on July 30 found “gold in them thar hills.” Everyone wanted to try their hand, including Aunt Sally.
She called her claim “No. 7 below Discovery”, listed on an official notice posted on August 5, 1874 as belonging to Sarah Campbell. To this day, Custer County still show her claim in their records. One of the soldiers recorded in his diary that “Claim No. 7 below Discovery belonged to ‘Aunt Sally,’ sutler John W. Smith’s Negro cook. Sally’s real name was Sarah Campbell, a woman Curtis [the correspondent] described as a ‘huge mountain of dusky flesh.’”
William Curtis was a young reporter for the Chicago Inter-Ocean and the New York World. His interview with Sally was published on August 27 just before she returned to Fort Lincoln with the expedition, describing her as “the most excited contestant in this chase after fortune. . . She is an old frontiersman, as it were, having been up and down the Missouri ever since its muddy water was broken by a paddle wheel, and having accumulated quite a little property, had settled down in Bismarck to ease and luxury.”
She had anticipated the expedition, saying she “wanted to see dese Black Hills – an’ dey ain’t no blacker dan I am and I’m no African, now you just bet I ain’t; I’m one of your common herd.” One of the things she was known to tell everyone was “I’se the first white woman as ever entered the Hills.” As one correspondent who interviewed her put it, “of course it would be impolite in the presence of a lady to deny the soft impeachment, so I simply accepted the statement as in every sense true.”
Seth Galvin, who as a young boy was acquainted with Sally, claimed she called herself a white woman because “she was not very literate, and the term ‘white’ was the only word she knew. She meant ‘civilized.’” Whether she was literate or not the St. Paul Pioneer-Press correspondent claimed she was a “walking encyclopedia of matters and facts connected with this country.”
After returning from the expedition Sally vowed to return to the hills and continue prospecting, which she did, walking back into the Hills alongside an ox-drawn wagon. She filed a claim at Elk Creek and lived in Crook City and Galena, prospecting, cooking and serving as a midwife. Sally tried her hand at both gold and silver mining, filing a total of five claims, although only one, the Alice Lode silver mine was profitable. Fifteen months before her death she sold the Alice Lode for five hundred dollars.
When the silver boom came to an end, she moved to a ranch and adopted a son, planning to run a camp for miners and railroad workers. Aunt Sally died on April 10, 1888 according to her gravestone in Galena’s Vinegar Hill Cemetery, although a grave marker erected in 1934 marking the expedition’s sixtieth anniversary indicated she died in 1887.
She was quite a character, a beloved one at that, who participated in annual parades in her later years and enjoyed telling stories, while puffing on her pipe, about the Custer Expedition. The 1934 marker noted that she with her participation in that expedition she had “ventured with the vanguard of civilization.”
For more information, please see Sarah Campbell: The First White Woman in the Black Hills Was African American, by Lilah Morton Pengra.
Did you enjoy this article? Yes? Check out Digging History Magazine. Since January 2018 new articles are published in a digital magazine (PDF) available by individual issue purchase or subscription (with three options). Most issues run between 70-85 pages, filled with articles of interest to history-lovers and genealogists — it’s all history, right? 🙂 No ads — just carefully-researched, well-written stories, complete with footnotes and sources.
Want to know more or try out a free issue? You can download either (or both) of the January-February 2019 and March-April 2019 issues here: https://digging-history.com/free-samples/
Thanks for stopping by!
Ghost Town Wednesday: Eastonville, Colorado
While many of Colorado’s ghost towns were formerly booming mining towns, this one east of the Black Forest near Colorado Springs was an agricultural community. The area began to be settled in 1872 and was first called Easton when a post office was established at Weir’s Sawmill.
In 1881 the Denver and New Orleans Railroad, later the Colorado and Southern Railroad, began to lay track in the area. A train stop named McConnellsville was established a few miles northeast of Easton in 1882. The residents of Easton decided to move their town there in a “relocate or perish” action (Colorado Ghost Towns: Past and Present by Robert L. Brown, p. 93).
The area around Easton was found to be most suitable for potato farming, and for a time residents self-proclaimed it the Potato Capital of the World. Access to the railroad would have been essential for shipping their prized potatoes, so in 1883 the townspeople voted to move.
Not long after relocating another issue arose, this time over the name of the town. Postal officials requested a name change to avoid confusion with the town of Eaton in Weld County. On May 17, 1884 the town’s name was officially changed to Eastonville. With direct railroad access and agricultural development, Eastonville was poised to grow.
In 1886 there were around fifty residents, but by 1900 the town boasted a population of around five hundred. Three mercantiles (Russell-Gates Mercantile Company, Eastonville Mercantile Company and Foster Brothers General Merchandise) had been established, along with a meat market, bakery, livery stable, three hotels, a school, a drugstore and, of course, saloons.
Three churches, Baptist, Presbyterian and Episcopalian, were established. The Cheese family (highlighted in yesterday’s Tombstone Tuesday article here) were some of the first Episcopalians to settle in the area. The local newspaper was called the Eastonville World and the town had a baseball club and race track.
According to Brown, the first two decades of the twentieth century were the most prosperous for Eastonville. At least nine or ten passenger trains and the same number of freight trains passed through the town each day. Potato farming had become a booming business. The Colorado Springs Weekly Gazette reported in April of 1904 that Eastonville farmers and businessmen were arranging phone service for their homes and businesses.
One of the early settlers was interviewed in 1965 by Jean Evans of Monument. Charles Hobbs described the area as a “splendid farming community, and huge crops of grain and potatoes were grown. Two-pound spuds were common, and there was a great demand for seeds of these dry land potatoes from other growing centers.” Potato bakes were regularly held in Eastonville and Monument.
Trainloads of potatoes were shipped out of Eastonville and nearby Monument which meant there were plenty of jobs. However, people began to leave Eastonville in the 1930s after crop failures and drought. The quality of the potatoes dropped and with it the product market, and of course the Great Depression was also a factor.
Charles Hobbs believed that the automobile and truck led to the railroad’s demise, although the railroad was pretty much wiped out in May of 1935 when massive flood waters swept through the area. The May 29 forecast called for fair weather and only occasional showers in the mountain areas. It was raining Thursday morning, although not heavily, but intensified later in the day. Storm cells had merged and the sky was black. As Monument Creek began to rise flood waters swept through Colorado Springs and the surrounding area as other creeks crested. Eighteen people lost their lives.
Without railroad taxes the town had little in the way of finances to support its existence. The Gates Mercantile’s business was dwindling, although the Eastonville Mercantile held on for a few more years. Residents continued to leave as houses were torn down and moved away.
Today very few structures remain. The Presbyterian church was used was a community center for years and is still standing. The Eastonville Cemetery is still in use with over five hundred interments dating from the late 1800s to the present day.
Did you enjoy this article? Yes? Check out Digging History Magazine. Since January 2018 new articles are published in a digital magazine (PDF) available by individual issue purchase or subscription (with three options). Most issues run between 70-85 pages, filled with articles of interest to history-lovers and genealogists — it’s all history, right? 🙂 No ads — just carefully-researched, well-written stories, complete with footnotes and sources.
Want to know more or try out a free issue? You can download either (or both) of the January-February 2019 and March-April 2019 issues here: https://digging-history.com/free-samples/
Thanks for stopping by!
Tombstone Tuesday: Charles H. Cheese
Charles H. Cheese was born on February 22, 1856 in Illinois to parents George and Elizabeth Cheese. George, born in England around 1823, arrived in America on April 27, 1830 with his parents Edmund and Ann Cheese. The Cheese family were farmers in Cook County, Illinois and in 1850 George and Elizabeth were living with his parents with a two-year old child named Ann.
Edmund died in 1855 and George and Elizabeth’s growing family was living in Chicago in 1860 with his mother Ann. After George passed away in 1866 and was buried in Cook County, his family moved to Will County. However, sometime between the 1870 and 1880 census, some members of the Cheese family decided to head west.
By 1880 Elizabeth had established herself in Colorado Springs, Colorado and married R.W. Mason. Historical records indicate that she was one of the first Episcopalians in that area of Colorado and later worked as a cook at the historic Antlers Hotel. The hotel, built in 1883 twelve years after the founding of Colorado Springs, was one of the most elegant hotels in the West at the time.
The seventy-five room hotel was furnished with gas lights, steam heat, hot and cold water and a hydraulic elevator, according to the hotel’s web site. Amenities such as a music room, playrooms, barber shop and a Turkish bath were also featured. Built and financed by William Jackson Palmer, the hotel was named Antlers for the large racks of elk and deer antlers displayed throughout the facility.
Following its opening in June of 1883, newspapers around the country described it as “mammoth”, situated “on the rise of the plateau a few hundred yards from the depot” in Colorado Springs, “one of the most tidy and pleasant towns to be found in Colorado.” President Benjamin Harrison visited in 1891 and the hotel, a favorite destination for English tourists was nicknamed “Little London”. The hotel, destroyed by fire during an eight-block-long, wind-driven fire on October 1, 1898, was rebuilt in 1901.
Elizabeth, one of the early pioneers of Colorado Springs, passed away on December 30, 1894, three weeks following the death of her grandson, Everette, son of Charles and Clara Cheese.
Charles had migrated to Colorado and settled in the Colorado Springs area as well. He married Clara Belle Bristow around 1882 or 1883 and their first child George Willard, born on September 26, 1884, was named after his grandfather. Records indicate that Charles and Clara had at least ten children: George (1884), Everette (1886), Maria (1887), Charles (1889), Clarence (1891), Naomi (1893), Marjorie (1895), Harlan (1897), Gladys 1899) and Alberta (1904).
Everette died on December 7, 1894 at the age of eight. While it’s unclear the circumstances surrounding his death, it’s possible he died of either diphtheria or smallpox since both diseases had risen to epidemics that year.
George Willard Cheese died on June 26, 1902 at St. Francis Hospital in Colorado Springs, a victim of diphtheria according to his obituary. Willard a “model son with a bright future” was three months short of his eighteenth birthday.
Charles was a farmer and a successful cattle rancher, but following the death of his oldest child George, decided lease his large and valuable ranch and move his family to Eastonville so that his children could have the advantage of the high school at that place, according to The Weekly Gazette (22 Oct 1903).
In the spring of 1903, Charles purchased fifty-four head of cattle. The Weekly Gazette noted that he was “one of the oldest ranchmen in this county and he says that this is the most forward spring we have had in years. He has over 100 acres ready to sow in oats, and he says that the grass is starting rapidly.” By the end of 1903 Charles was about to build a saw mill on his ranch and “saw about 200,000 feet of lumber.”
Eastonville was about six miles way from Peyton where the family ranch was located. Charles was elected president of the Peyton French Coach Horse Society in 1904 and his family visited the ranch while their children were on school vacation. His family relocated to Colorado Springs by at least 1907 and most likely derived income from lease of the ranch land and saw mill operations, because it appears the family continued to reside in the city.
Some of their children later migrated to California – Myrtle (Maria), Marjorie and Harlan were living in Alameda in 1920 and Alberta married James Dodds there in 1933.
In 1914 Colorado Springs residents apparently believed Charles had died, but like Mark Twain, reports of his death had been greatly exaggerated. Word had spread that his son Charles, a college athlete, had dropped out of school due to the death of his father. Charles Senior, however, was in the best of health – Charles Junior had just decided to follow in his father’s footsteps and take up farming.
Clara died on November 6, 1923 at the age of sixty-three and was laid to rest in the Peyton Cemetery. On the day following his seventy-fourth birthday, February 23, 1930, Charles passed away and was also buried in the Peyton Cemetery.
Did you enjoy this article? Yes? Check out Digging History Magazine. Since January 2018 new articles are published in a digital magazine (PDF) available by individual issue purchase or subscription (with three options). Most issues run between 70-85 pages, filled with articles of interest to history-lovers and genealogists — it’s all history, right? 🙂 No ads — just carefully-researched, well-written stories, complete with footnotes and sources.
Want to know more or try out a free issue? You can download either (or both) of the January-February 2019 and March-April 2019 issues here: https://digging-history.com/free-samples/
Thanks for stopping by!
Surname Saturday: Whitebread
A couple of weeks ago the Cakebread surname was featured with an interesting story – this week it’s Whitebread. These two surnames appear to share similar origins dating back to pre-seventh century Olde English. The Old English word “hwit” meant white, “hwaete” meant wheat, and as the Internet Surname Database points out, “bread” is one of a few words that has retained its original spelling for at least fifteen centuries.
Like Cakebread, the Whitebread surname was an occupational name for a baker of bread. One name seen in medieval times, Whytbredson, could have been someone who was the son of a baker, or who perhaps was a baker like his father. A 1221 record, one of the oldest, shows William Witbred on the Suffolk Subsidy Tax Rolls, in 1254 Roger Wythbred was listed in Huntingdonshire church records and Robert Whetbred appeared on the Subsidy Tax Rolls of Sussex in 1327. Spelling variations include Witbread, Whytebread, Whatebread, Wyteberd, Witberd, Whitberd, Whiteberd and more.
John Whitebread arrived in Virginia in 1713 and according to an indexed record, his name appears amongst references to land patented by French refugees, likely the Protestants (Hugenots) who fled France after Louis XIV revoked the 1685 Edict of Nantes which had guaranteed freedom of religious worship.
Another Whitebread immigrant, Henry, arrived in 1773 and appears in an index of records from a comprehensive list from the Corporation of Lond Records Office, including Royal Pardons (1662-1693) and Transportation Bonds (1661-1772). Eleven years later another man came to America and became what I would call an “accidental Whitebread.”
Henry the “Accidental” Whitebread
Johann Heinrich Weisbrod was born on November 12, 1762 in Frankenberg, Germany to parents Ulrich and Agnes (Hibner) Weisbrod. According to family historian Samuel A. Whitebread, who recorded his recollections and research in Genealogy of the Whitebread Family in America, Henry’s parents belonged to the Evangelican German Reformed Church where he was baptized at the age of two weeks old.
Henry was catechized at the age of fifteen, confirmed and received into full membership of the church. As he neared adulthood, Henry decided to immigrate to America rather than become a German soldier, as all young men of a certain age were expected to do.
Whitebread noted that Frederick II often hired out his soldiers to serve under foreign governments in order to finance his own country. Perhaps Henry would have been sent to fight for the British so he decided instead to leave his homeland and strike out on his own in America. The Hessians who fought for the British in the Revolutionary War were from the Hesse-Cassel region where Henry lived.
He boarded an old ship and landed in Philadelphia on August 6, 1784 after a thirteen-week voyage. As a German in a land of English speakers, Henry found it hard to secure suitable work, but finally found employment on a “truck farm” outside Philadelphia. There he worked for several years before learning and earning enough to purchase a small farm of his own.
On April 8, 1790 he married Mary Danenheimer and to their marriage were born eight children, five of which were living when Mary died in October of 1805 (John, Daniel, Bernard, Henry and Mary). Between the time he became a widower in 1805 and his second marriage to Catherine Lesher in January of 1807, Henry Weisbrod became known as Henry Whitebread by “accident”.
The land he purchased had belonged to a lawyer, who as Samuel Whitebread surmises, believed in “Americanizing every thing possible, not excepting even proper names”. The lawyer, an acquaintance of Henry’s had begun calling him Whitebread instead of Weisbrod. When he drew up the deed papers, he wrote “Whitebread” on the deed, something Henry failed to notice at the time.
As more children were born to his second marriage (eight more) and those from his first marriage grew up, Henry desired to sell his small farm and move further up the Susquehanna River where land was cheaper. He found suitable land, purchased it and drew up a deed and signed it with his “old name” Weisbrod. The name change was discovered when the seller attempted to file the deed, however.
Henry returned to the lawyer and ask that the record be corrected but found it was too late to take such a measure. Instead the attorney advised that he draw up a new deed and sign it as “Whitebread”. According to Whitebread family history, this is how Johann Heinrich Weisbrod and his descendants came to be known as Whitebreads.
Samuel Whitebread, the grandson of Henry and Mary, recalled stories about his grandfather who he regarded as a “thrifty farmer”. Henry raised sheep and flax – wool for the winter and flax for summer clothing. Samuel recalled that as a young boy, “everything he wore, both summer and winter, was produced on the farm, except the buttons.”
Henry was a faithful and devoted church member who strictly observed the Sabbath, “a good citizen and at peace with his neighbors.” He died on October 28, 1828 just a few days short of his sixty-sixth birthday. He is buried in the German Reformed Cemetery in Luzerne County, Pennsylvania and his tombstone reads “Henry Weitebread” – perhaps a compromise between his original and his “accidental” surname.
Several of his children remained in or near Luzerne County. One of Henry’s descendants, great-great grandson Hertz, died on the beaches of Normandy on June 6, 1944. His remains were removed from a French cemetery and re-interred at Arlington National Cemetery in 1947.
Did you enjoy this article? Yes? Check out Digging History Magazine. Since January 2018 new articles are published in a digital magazine (PDF) available by individual issue purchase or subscription (with three options). Most issues run between 70-85 pages, filled with articles of interest to history-lovers and genealogists — it’s all history, right? 🙂 No ads — just carefully-researched, well-written stories, complete with footnotes and sources.
Want to know more or try out a free issue? You can download either (or both) of the January-February 2019 and March-April 2019 issues here: https://digging-history.com/free-samples/
Thanks for stopping by!
Feisty Females: The “Sidesaddle Soldiers” of Rhea County, Tennessee
A group of well-to-do young ladies, anxious to do their part for the Southern cause, formed and all-female cavalry unit in 1862, calling themselves the Rhea County Spartans. These “sidesaddle soldiers” were like many women on both sides of the war who wished with all their hearts they could do something to lend support (if only they were men!).
Instead, these women formed Soldier’s Aid Societies. In fact, some believe that “Spartans” may not have been the original name. On the Rhea County Spartans Facebook page, contributor Tom Robinson points out that many of the same young women were members in 1861 of the Rhea County Soldier’s Aid Society. The name “Spartans” seems a bit militant to me and there’s no evidence these women participated in any military operations, unlike some women (see yesterday’s book review of Liar, Temptress, Soldier, Spy) who actually disguised themselves as men.
More than likely they were influenced by patriotic appeals like this one which appeared in the August 16, 1861 issue of the Athens Post:
As the story goes, these young women decided to form their own cavalry in Rhea County (pronounce ray), Tennessee to support the Confederate cause. Despite the fact that much of eastern Tennessee was pro-Union, Rhea County chose the other side to rally behind. Following the state’s vote for secession in June of 1861, Rhea County formed seven companies for the Confederate Army and only one for the Union.
According to an account in a 1911 Confederate Veteran article, three Confederate companies had been formed in the area, the third in May of 1862 by Captain W.T. Darwin. That summer these young Rhea County ladies “agreed to meet at certain points in that county and go in squads to visit one of these companies, where some of them had fathers, brothers, or sweethearts.”
Just for fun they organized a cavalry company complete with officers: Mary McDonald, Captain; Jennie Hoyal, Orpha Jane Locke and Rhoda Thomison, Lieutenants. Some of the other company members included: Kate Hoyal, Mary Keith, Sallie Mitchell, Caroline McDonald, Jane Paine, Mary Robertson, Mary Paine, Mary Crawford, Anne Myers, Mary Ann McDonald and Martha Early.
Barbara Frances Allen, another member of the Spartans, had three brothers serving with General Lee and one with General J.E. Johnston. Her father was in prison. One of Rhoda Thomison’s brothers had been wounded at Shiloh, another killed at Chickamauga and another served with General Lee.
The Spartans visited family members serving in the vicinity of Rhea County, taking supplies, food and clothing. After the fall of Chattanooga in late 1863, their mission may have changed, although there are no official records which provide specific details. Some historians believe they may have engaged in spying after Union forces moved into their county.
The only sliver of possible evidence that might indicate these women did engage in spying, or at least strongly suspected of doing so, was their arrest in April of 1865 just days before the war ended with Lee’s surrender at Appomattox. Union Captain John P. Walker, disdainful of Southern sympathizers, ordered Lieutenant W.B. Gothard to arrest these “dangerous young ladies”. Gothard marched seven of the Spartans from the Thomison home to Smith’s Crossroads, near Walker’s home, where six more girls joined the prisoner group.
Through mud and water, Walker marched the Spartans to Bell’s Landing on the Tennessee River where three more captured members joined them. The Spartans were ordered to board a boat used by the government to haul hay, hogs and cattle, nicknamed the “Chicken Thief”. At gun point the Spartans were ordered to enter a small dining room where they slept on the floor following their exhausting march through muck and mud.
After arriving in Chattanooga, they were marched up to the offices of the provost marshal. When General James B. Steadman was made aware of Walker’s actions he issued a severe reprimand to the captain, believing the bedraggled young ladies presented no threat to the Union. The only requirement for their release was to take an oath of allegiance to the United States. In an article written in 1901 about “Captain” Mary McDonald Sawyers, it was reported that the girls had given Steadman “more than one sample of ‘sass'”. He threatened to send them to Ohio and that’s when they all agreed to take the oath at the urging of “anxious relatives.”
Steadman ordered his adjutant to take them to the Central House and have a sumptuous meal prepared for them. Afterwards they were to be returned to the boat and taken back to Bell’s Landing and escorted home.
By the time they boarded the old boat, word had arrived of General Lee’s surrender. Captain Walker was to escort the young women back to their homes, but he ignored Steadman’s order. Instead, he left them at the landing and the ladies, on their own, made their way back to Rhea County to reunite with their families.
The Spartans disbanded and returned to their more traditional roles as young ladies of the Victorian Age, marrying and raising their children. Although their story faded with the passing of time, history records the Rhea County Spartans were the only female cavalry unit, unofficial though they were, to have served in the Civil War.
Did you enjoy this article? Yes? Check out Digging History Magazine. Since January 2018 new articles are published in a digital magazine (PDF) available by individual issue purchase or subscription (with three options). Most issues run between 70-85 pages, filled with articles of interest to history-lovers and genealogists — it’s all history, right? 🙂 No ads — just carefully-researched, well-written stories, complete with footnotes and sources.
Want to know more or try out a free issue? You can download either (or both) of the January-February 2019 and March-April 2019 issues here: https://digging-history.com/free-samples/
Thanks for stopping by!
Wild West Wednesday: Olive the Tattooed Woman (her narrative was of painful interest)
Her story was sensationalized in 1857 by a Methodist minister named Royal B. Stratton, who used what the Arizona Republic called “purple prose” to exaggerate and fabricate the experiences of young Olive Oatman. As the Republic pointed out, there was no need for such fabrication because her actual experiences were more than harrowing enough.
Olive Ann Oatman was born in Illinois in 1837 to parents Roys and Mary Ann Oatman. Her family, members of the Church of Latter Day Saints, decided to migrate west. In 1850 Royce and Mary Ann and their seven children departed from Independence, Missouri in a caravan led by James Colin Brewster.
Brewster had fallen out of favor with the LDS church after claiming himself a prophet after been visited by the Angel Moronit. Following Joseph Smith’s death in 1844, Brewster sought to become the new leader and he and Hazen Aldrich co-founded what they called the Church of Christ, the successor to Smith’s own Church of Christ. His followers were called “Brewsterites.”
The Oatman family was among his followers who, instead of heading to Utah where most Mormons at that time were migrating, were headed to a place Brewster called “Bashan” beyond the Rio Grande Valley. At some point, however, disagreements arose and more than half of the caravan split off from the group.
According to Brian McGinty, author of The Oatman Massacre: A Tale of Desert Captivity and Survival, the parting of ways occurred on October 9, 1850 when Brewster and his followers headed over the Sangre de De Cristos toward Santa Fe and the others (Oatmans, Thompsons, Wilders, Meteers and Kellys) headed toward the Rio Grande Valley. The Oatman group crossed the Rio Grande ten days later, but along the way some of their animals were stolen by Indians.
In their minds, having crossed the Rio Grande, they were now west of the river and in an area Brewster had considered the “Land of Peace.” The Oatman group, however was still quite a distance from the “Land of Bashan” near where the Gila and Colorado Rivers met. After pausing for a three-day rest they traveled south and arrived in Socorro to replenish their supplies before continuing their journey on November 10. They soon arrived in unfriendly Apache territory only to have more livestock stolen.
The Brewster group had made their way south as well because in December of 1850 they were enumerated for that year’s census in Socorro, New Mexico Territory. J. Colin Brewster was listed as a “Mormon Prophet” but there are no census records for the Oatman family to be found in New Mexico or elsewhere.
The Oatman group made it to Tucson and decided to stop for awhile to regroup and repair their wagons, mend their clothes and stock up on supplies. Some families didn’t want to leave but Roys Oatman and Willard Wilder were anxious to continue their journey to Bashan. They were joined by Robert and John Kelly, two single men. It has been speculated that Olive and Robert were in love.
They were following a path along the Gila River, at that time the border between the United States and Mexico. On February 5, 1851 they arrived at the Pima Villages, “wearied, heart-sick, and nearly destitute.”
Unfortunately, the Pimas were no better off, having barely enough food to feed themselves after a severe drought. The emigrants continued toward the Maricopa villages and near there found a grassy place with water.
On February 7 Mrs. Wilder gave birth to “little Willard”. Roys Oatman, however, wasn’t in favor of pausing for long, so anxious was he to reach Bashan, and as McGinty wrote “attain the earthly Eden described by Colin Brewster in the prophecies of Esdras.” He had met up with an old acquaintance and was assured that the way west was safe, believing there was a United States Army fort on the Colorado.
Oatman’s decision to move on proved to be fatal, and in the end imprudent since his own wife was nearing childbirth. He could have remained for a time and waited for his own child to be born and Mrs. Wilder to recover from childbirth. Instead, he departed and again experienced difficulties along the trail. His friend Dr. Le Conte caught up with him and promised to take a letter requesting assistance to Fort Yuma.
Le Conte and his companion encountered their own difficulties when Indians stole their horses. His companion was sent ahead to deliver the letter and Le Conte followed later after posting a note on a tree so that the Oatmans would know what happened. Whether or not Roys found the doctor’s note or not, Lorenzo recalled that his father was quite dejected on the night of February 17 when they made camp.
They continued traveling the next day until the late afternoon when they stopped to eat. There was a full moon and Roys made the decision to travel through the night since it would be easier on the animals. Lorenzo and Olive recalled that Indians had come into their camp and asked for tobacco and a pipe which their father provided.
The Indians were interested in trading two horses (possibly the ones stolen from Le Conte and his companion) for food, but Roys ignored them and continued to load the wagon. All of a sudden the Indians let out a “deafening yell” and began attacking the family. Most of the family were killed except Olive, her sister Mary and brother Lorenzo who had been left for dead.
Olive later identified the attackers as Apaches but many believe they were more than likely Yavapai. The Indians left Lorenzo behind and took Olive and Mary as their slaves. Lorenzo was said to have escaped in the dark and picked up about forty miles from the massacre site by another group of emigrants. He was found with hat or shoes and covered with blood. After telling his story, the men set out to investigate the young boy’s claims.
They found the site where some of the bodies had been desecrated by coyotes and ascertained that the two young girls were missing. No one knew what had happened to them and the mystery remained for several years to come. Lorenzo had continued onto California and was living in Los Angeles when in 1856 word came that a young woman had been released at Fort Yuma by the Mohave Indians.
Olive and Mary had been enslaved by their captors and later traded, taken in by Mohave tribal leader Aespaneo and his family. The girls were given their own plots of land to farm and treated kindly, although it is unclear whether they were actually adopted into the family. Olive would later claim that she and Mary were afraid to leave.
Nevertheless, the girls were subjected to at least one tribal ritual. Thought to have been a ritual which assured a good afterlife, Olive and Mary were tattooed on their chins and arms. The exact date is unclear, but likely sometime in 1855 Mary died of starvation when a severe food shortage occurred.
Perhaps territorial authorities had been made aware of two young white girls living among the Mohaves because in 1855 negotiations were begun to have Olive released. At first the Mohaves resisted, perhaps grown fond of her or fearing retribution from the military. By the time she was released in 1856, Olive was nineteen years old. Years later her childhood friend Sarah Thompson speculated that Olive grieved after her return because she had married a Mohave man and birthed two boys.
Olive herself, however, denied such claims or that she had ever been mistreated in any way by either tribe – perhaps a case of “Stockholm Syndrome.” Before entering the fort she was provided appropriate clothing (at the time she was wearing only a skirt and nothing above the waist). Her most striking features were the tattoos. Her hair, originally a light golden color, had been dyed black.
Soon after her release Olive discovered that Lorenzo had survived and they were reunited. Newspapers across the country prefaced their report with the words “The whole narrative is of painful interest.”
The following year Reverend Stratton wrote and published his book entitled Life Among the Indians. The book was one of very few ever published of such a horrific event, so it wasn’t surprising that it sold several thousand copies. Royalties were donated to Lorenzo and Olive for their education at the University of the Pacific.
In 1858 they moved to New York with Stratton and Olive traveled the lecture circuit to promote the book, one of the few occasions following her return to civilization when she appeared in public without a veil to hide her tattooed chin. For years rumors persisted that she hadn’t made the complete return to a “civilized life” and had died in an asylum. According to the Republic article, she did suffer from occasional headaches and bouts of depression and spent time at a Canadian spa.
Although Stratton had provided for Olive and Lorenzo, he had also exploited the family’s tragedy by exaggerating many facts. That was common for the era, however. Several books were written about Kit Carson, recounting fantastic tales of daring-do. Upon encountering one of those books, Carson remarked, “In camp was found a book, the first of the kind I had ever seen, in which I was made a great hero, slaying Indians by the hundreds.”
In 1865 Olive married cattleman John Brant Fairchild, living in Detroit for seven years before moving to Sherman, Texas where he was employed as president of the City Bank. It is said he later burned all of the copies of Life Among the Indians he could find. Fairchild made a fortune in banking and real estate and the couple adopted a daughter in 1876.
Olive championed the cause of orphaned children and always kept a staple food of the Mojaves, a jar of hazelnuts, as a reminder of her own plight. She died on March 20, 1903 and was buried in Sherman’s West Hill Cemetery.
Despite all the rumors she had gone mad and died in an asylum, Olive Oatman Fairchild lived a long and full life. On the other hand, Royal Stratton died in Hartford Connecticut in 1875 – in an insane asylum.
Did you enjoy this article? Yes? Check out Digging History Magazine. Since January 2018 new articles are published in a digital magazine (PDF) available by individual issue purchase or subscription (with three options). Most issues run between 70-85 pages, filled with articles of interest to history-lovers and genealogists — it’s all history, right? 🙂 No ads — just carefully-researched, well-written stories, complete with footnotes and sources.
Want to know more or try out a free issue? You can download either (or both) of the January-February 2019 and March-April 2019 issues here: https://digging-history.com/free-samples/
Thanks for stopping by!
Tombstone Tuesday: Green B. Rash
I came across this fellow named Green Rash while I was doing research for some of my ancestors, the Stogsdills — his name appeared in some Pulaski County, Kentucky will records. Unusual names just intrigue me – and what could be more appropriate for St. Patrick’s Day than a little “Green” story, eh?
Green B. Rash was born in Kentucky, most likely Pulaski County, in January of 1837 according to the 1900 census. It is a bit of a mystery as to who his parents were, however. The first census record where Green appears by name is the 1850 census and he is living with his mother Polley Rash, brother John (19), sister Jane (17) and sister Cinthia (11).
By 1860 Green has married a woman by the name of Emeline and it appears they have at least two children of their own – Lucinda (1) and Moriah (4). His sister Cynthia is 21 and enumerated in their household, as is Jane (not his sister though – she married in 1851). Green’s mother Mary and his older brother John live next door.
Based on her age and looking back to the 1850 census of Pulaski County, Emeline’s maiden name may have been Colyer, Hail or Smith. Since there is no marriage record and their oldest child was four in 1860, Green and Emeline probably married around 1855.
On August 13, 1863 Green and his brother John registered for the Civil War draft. On December 23, 1863 Green was mustered in as a Private into Company G, Kentucky 13th Cavalry Regiment under the command of Colonel James W. Weatherford. According to Family Search, “because this regiment was formed with men from the Tennessee border [Columbia, Kentucky], it was stationed in the vicinity for the protection of their immediate homes and their efficiency, energy and gallant bearing has been frequently commended by the Dept. Commander.”
This particular unit was responsible for patrolling and scouting the border counties until the fall of 1864. The regiment was mustered out at Camp Nelson, Kentucky on January 10, 1865. During the 13th Regiment’s time of service, a total of ninety-four men were lost, the majority to disease.
It appears that Emeline died sometime after Green’s return from the war. On February 18, 1868 he married a widow by the name of Elizabeth (Adkins) Pointer. According to the 1870 census, Green and Emeline had two more children before her death around 1866 or 1867: Perry (9) and Milton (8). Missing from this census is his daughter Moriah so she had passed away as well it appears. Elizabeth’s children, Mary (13) and Frances (10) and Green and Elizabeth’s first child Malinda (1) were also enumerated.
Two more daughters were born: Mahala (ca. 1874) and Louisa (ca. 1876). They appear on the 1880 census in Pulaski County with their mother and step-brother Perry. Elizabeth’s occupation had previously been housewife but for this census her occupation is listed as “Supt’Ds Farm”. Perhaps that meant “superintends farm” which would mean she is running the farm. Where is Green?
There must be a story, although I couldn’t locate any details, but Green B. Rash was enumerated that year on June 20 in the Albany County (New York) Penitentiary as a carpenter. The accompanying Schedule of Defective, Dependent and Delinquent Classes indicates that on June 14, 1879 he committed a felony but no further details were provided. It’s also unclear where Green committed the crime.
Albany Penitentiary opened in 1846 after the downtown jail facilities had deteriorated. With a new facility the county was determined to make it the “model prison of the world” and aimed at “moral reformation of the convict.” As part of that reform, prisoners were assigned jobs which generated income to maintain the prison. If prisoners were kept busy working, and thereby earning their keep, they wouldn’t return to the criminal life upon their release.
Most prisoners were guilty of minor crimes like assault, horse theft, or petty theft (by far the most common offense). The prison’s success led the State Legislature to pass bills which allowed other counties to utilize the facilities as well. Men were put to work caning chairs or making shoes while women performed laundry duties.
During the Civil War prisoners might have their sentences commuted if they agreed to join the Union Army. When the United States Arsenal took over the District of Columbia’s penitentiary, Albany arranged to receive convicts, some including Confederate prisoners. Before being re-routed to a prison in the Florida Keys, four convicted co-conspirators involved in Abraham Lincoln’s assassination had been scheduled to be incarcerated at Albany.
Green’s crime may have been more serious since he had been incarcerated for over a year. When he was released is unclear but by 1890 he had returned to his family in Pulaski County and was enumerated on the 1890 Veterans Schedule. Prior to that, and based on his Civil War service, Green had applied for a pension on February 19, 1873.
Green continued to farm until his death on April 25, 1901. It would have been interesting to find out more about how he ended up in a New York penitentiary, but a search of newspapers yielded nothing. I never found a record indicating what his middle name was either. The initial “B.” may have stood for “Berry” – I’ve seen several people named “Green” or “Greenberry” in Kentucky so it must have been a popular name.
That’s my “green” story – hope you enjoyed it and whether you’re Irish or not have a Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Did you enjoy this article? Yes? Check out Digging History Magazine. Since January 2018 new articles are published in a digital magazine (PDF) available by individual issue purchase or subscription (with three options). Most issues run between 70-85 pages, filled with articles of interest to history-lovers and genealogists — it’s all history, right? 🙂 No ads — just carefully-researched, well-written stories, complete with footnotes and sources.
Want to know more or try out a free issue? You can download either (or both) of the January-February 2019 and March-April 2019 issues here: https://digging-history.com/free-samples/
Thanks for stopping by!
Surname Saturday: Whale
The Whale surname was derived from a nickname for (no surprise) a person of large girth who “rolled” as they walked, according to the Internet Surname Database. Charles Bardsley, author of A Dictionary of English and Welsh Surnames, wrote a bit more poetically: “probably affixed like Oliphant, i.e., the elephant, on account of the ponderous and ungainly build of the bearer.”
House of Names links the surname to a family that lived in Berwickshire at Le Whele after migrating to England following the Norman Conquest of 1066. Interestingly, they link the occurrence of the name as perhaps being derived from someone who lived in Wales.
During the Middle Ages, “whal” was used to describe any large fish such as a whale, porpoise, walrus or grampus (all fish who “roll” through the water). Thus, someone of large girth who waddled as they walked might have received the nickname of “Whal” or “Whale”. Not at all unusual, since many surnames were originally derived from nicknames.
Early records show Hugh le Whal in 1249 on a tax assessment list in County Essex; John Whal in London in 1305; Anne Whale married Edwarde Watt in 1554. Today this surname is more prevalent in England than elsewhere. Spelling variations include Whale, Whele, Whaill and others.
An Early American Whale
Perhaps the earliest Whale to immigrate to America was Philemon Whale who landed in Boston in the 1640’s it appears. He was born on May 27, 1599 to parents Reverend Philemon and Agnes Ann (Norwood) Whale of County Essex (perhaps related to 1249 Hugh le Whal?). Family historians believe Philemon married his first wife Elizabeth (Frost) Rice in 1621.
Whether Philemon immigrated to New England because of religious persecution is unclear, and I’m uncertain as to his exact immigration date. One source claims his name was on a passenger list in 1630. I believe this is incorrect, however, because the record (The Winthrop Fleet of 1630) only refers to Philemon as later marrying one of the passengers, Sarah Cakebread, widow of Thomas Cakebread.
Philemon is believed to have settled in Sudbury not long after its settlement in 1638/39. Thus, an immigration date in the early 1640’s seems more plausible. A woman by the name of Elizabeth Whale was on a passenger list in 1642 and Philemon appears on a 1643 passenger list. Philemon and Elizabeth’s first child was also named Elizabeth, born in 1622, and it appears from his will that Elizabeth may have been his only surviving child.
He was a weaver by trade and made his first home near Mill Pond in what is now Wayland, Massachusetts. Philemon was made a freedman on May 10, 1648 and married his second wife (death date of Elizabeth unknown) Sarah Cakebread (see article on the Cakebread surname here) on November 7, 1649 in Sudbury. Sarah died on December 28, 1656 and Philemon married a widow named Elizabeth Griffin in November of the following year.
Philemon died on February 24, 1676 and a short time later, on April 21, Sudbury was attacked by by Indians. King Philip and his band of Indians raided at dawn and set fire to the garrison houses. Reinforcements arrived from Concord, but after being drawn in by an Indian ambush, suffered heavy loss of life. Elizabeth suffered losses that day as well to her home and property, but survived the attack and passed away in 1688.
If Philemon Whale had only one surviving child, a daughter, then there were no direct descendants through a son to carry on his Whale line, negating the possibility of consideration as the immigrant ancestor.
However, I found another Whale, Theophilus, who has an interesting story – an intriguing one actually. So intriguing that Reverend Ezra Stiles, one of the founders of Brown University and later president of Yale University, sought to unravel the mystery of Theophilus Whale. More about Ezra Stiles in tomorrow’s Early American Faith article.
NOTE: The account of Philemon Whale was pieced together from multiple sources (albeit somewhat conflicting), including a blog post here which was extracted from Ancestry.com. Genealogical research is anything but an exact science :).
Did you enjoy this article? Yes? Check out Digging History Magazine. Since January 2018 new articles are published in a digital magazine (PDF) available by individual issue purchase or subscription (with three options). Most issues run between 70-85 pages, filled with articles of interest to history-lovers and genealogists — it’s all history, right? 🙂 No ads — just carefully-researched, well-written stories, complete with footnotes and sources.
Want to know more or try out a free issue? You can download either (or both) of the January-February 2019 and March-April 2019 issues here: https://digging-history.com/free-samples/
Thanks for stopping by!
Far-Out Friday: Friggatriskaidekaphobia and the Thirteen Club
Do you suffer from friggatriskaidekaphobia (and you say, I don’t even know how to pronounce it, so how could I be afflicted with it!?!). Maybe not, but it may affect between seventeen and twenty million Americans. According to the Mayo Clinic, in clinical terms a phobia “is an overwhelming and unreasonable fear of an object or situation that poses little real danger but provokes anxiety and avoidance.”
This particular phobia, as it relates to a certain calendar date, may only be experienced one to three times per year. This year it will haunt millions of people three times on a Friday – February 13, March 13 and November 13 – and no one seems to know definitively when and where the notion of “Friday the 13th” being an unlucky day, or for that matter the number “13″ being associated with misfortune and bad luck, originated.
This article has been removed from the web site, but will be rewritten, complete with footnotes and sources, and included in the September-October 2019 issue of Digging History Magazine.
I invite you to check out Digging History Magazine. Since January 2018 new articles are published in a digital magazine (PDF) available by individual issue purchase or subscription (with three options). Most issues run between 70-85 pages, filled with articles of interest to history-lovers and genealogists — it’s all history, right? 🙂 No ads, just carefully-researched stories, complete with footnotes and sources.
Want to know more or try out a free issue? That’s easy if you have a minute or two. Here are the options (choose one):
- Scroll up to the upper right-hand corner of this page, provide your email to subscribe to the blog and a free issue will soon be on its way to your inbox.
- A free article index of issues is available in the magazine store, providing a brief synopsis of every article published in 2018. Note: You will have to create an account to obtain the free index (don’t worry — it’s easy!).
- Contact me directly and request either a free issue and/or the free article index. Happy to provide!
Thanks for stopping by!