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.
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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.
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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!
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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 :).
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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.
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Ghost Town Wednesday: Claquato, Washington
Lewis Hawkins Davis left Indiana in 1851 and joined a wagon train in Independence, Missouri, heading west to Oregon Territory’s Willamette Valley. Two years after arriving he headed north to Saunders Bottom in Lewis County, Washington where he built a double log cabin for his family. His son Levi Adrian Davis filed a claim for adjoining property. Upon arrival they remained a few days with the Saunders family, their nearest neighbors, while scouting the area for land.
The Davis family settled on a hillside in an area the Indians called Claquato (pronounced Cla-kwah-toh, the name means “high ground” in Salish). The next order of business for Lewis, with the help of other settlers, was a road-building program, and all roads led to his home on the hill. The first road went over the hill and down into the Chehalis Valley to the place where the Skookumchuck River emptied into the Chehalis River, a place where Lewis encouraged new settlers to camp upon arrival.
Lewis County was created on December 19, 1845 (originally named after George Vancouver) when Washington Territory was carved out of Oregon Territory. In 1849 the county was renamed after explorer Merriwether Lewis.
As was the case all across the West in the years encompassing the era known as “Manifest Destiny”, Indians viewed the white man’s intrusion on their lands with suspicion and distrust. And, of course, the better the roads, the more people came. In 1853 military roads were built, Olympia became the state capital and California 49’ers whose fortunes didn’t quite pan out headed to claim free land in Washington Territory.
Lewis Davis took advantage of the influx of settlers by offering lodging with meals and corrals for their horses and stock. The United States government began constructing stockades to protect settlers in 1855 and Davis obtained a contract, provided workers and his wife cooked for them. When the Indian troubles began several families moved to the safety of the stockade, but with only one hundred square feet of space some found it too confining and decided to take their chances.
However, not all of the Indians in the area were unfriendly. According to Chehalis by Julie McDonald Zander, a friendly Chehalis Indian by the name of John Heyton rode through the night to warn settlers when Indians were about to attack. When the Saunders family returned to their homestead in 1856 after the threats passed, they found their house, barn and fences burned, their stock killed and everything destroyed or stolen.
The Saunders family was forced to start over. According to Zander, the Cowlitz and Chehalis Indians were friendly with Schuyler Saunders. He preached the gospel and sang hymns and the natives called him “King George’s Man”.
In 1857 Davis built a whipsaw-type sawmill near where Mill Creek emptied into the Chehalis River. The first lumber produced was donated for construction of the Claquato Church. The church was built in 1858, one that still stands today as the oldest building in Washington. The inside was furnished with pews and a pulpit donated by the nearby community of Boistfort, an organ purchased by subscription, and a bronze bell shipped from Boston by boat around Cape Horn. The church’s belfry was unique – “a triple decker with a louvered square on the bottom, a smaller louvered octagon in the middle, and a symbolic crown of thorns on top” (The Daily Chronicle, Centralia, Washington; 10 May 1969).
Because all of the furnishings, the land, materials and labor had been donated, the church opened its doors debt-free. On May 7, 1859, Lewis Davis and his wife Susan officially deeded the land at the corner of Military and Church Streets to the Methodist Episcopal Church, stipulating that the church must be available as a school facility for a period of seven years. The church’s first pastor, John Harwood, was also the first teacher at Claquato Academy.
The town continued to prosper and grow under Davis’ leadership. Claquato thrived as a way station with hotels and other shops to accommodate travelers as well as local residents. The Davis Prairie post office was established on May 10, 1858 and renamed the Claquato post office on September 15 of that year. In 1862 the courthouse was completed after the state legislature agreed to designate Claquato as the county seat if Davis would donate the land and provide the materials.
In 1864 the town had fifty residents, but that same year lost its founder. Lewis Davis died from injuries sustained in a fall at his sawmill. Towns like Claquato with its growing lumber industry needed railroads to continue to thrive, but when the Northern Pacific Railroad bypassed Claquato in 1874, Claquato lost the county seat on July 4 as residents gradually moved to the new county seat of Saundersville (later renamed Chehalis, and still the county seat today).
On August 6, 1902 the town of Claquato was officially vacated. The church, of course, remains and was used for Sunday School and occasional services until the mid-1930’s. The building had deteriorated, and after a time the Lewis County Commission undertook steps to restore it. In 1973 it was added to the National Register of Historic Places. The large cemetery, started in 1856, is still utilized and maintained.
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Tombstone Tuesday: Ambrose Hill and Callie Donia Fickling Bradshaw
Ambrose Hill and Callie Donia Fickling Bradshaw were married on March 6, 1918. For both it was a second marriage – Ambrose was a widower and Callie Donia divorced with five children. A few things intrigued me about this couple: their names, their large blended family and their faith.
Ambrose Hill Bradshaw
Ambrose Hill Bradshaw was born on January 29, 1867 in Alexander County, North Carolina to parents John Sloan and Mary Louise (Barker) Bradshaw. John was a Confederate who volunteered on November 2, 1861 and was mustered in on December 31. He was wounded on August 29, 1862 at Manassas and later at Chancellorsville the following year. John and Mary remained in North Carolina but Ambrose migrated to Tennessee sometime after the 1880 census, although the date is unclear with no 1890 census records available.
Ambrose married Beulah Mae Corpier in Giles County, Tennessee on March 20, 1894 and daughter Leafy was born in June 1894 according to the 1900 census. By 1910 Ambrose and Beulah were residing in Hill County, Texas with eight children, ranging in ages from 15 to 1: Leafy, Clayton, Bert, Minnie, Colonel, Mary, Florence and Floyd.
On February 19, 1914 Beulah Mae died of cancer in Hood County, Texas, leaving Ambrose to raise his young children. He married Caledonia (or “Callie Donia”) Fickling Osborn on March 6, 1918 in Young County, Texas. According to his obituary, Ambrose had relocated his family to Young County around 1916 and later operated a dry goods and mercantile store on the eastern edge of Proffitt. Census records indicate that he was also a farmer.
Callie Donia had five children from her first marriage: William Terrell, Ethel Irene, Edgar Franklin, Josie May and Bishop Marvin (daughter Mollie, born in 1911, died in 1912). Together Ambrose and Callie Donia had three children of their own: Viola Pearl, Ambrose Ray and Dick Worth.
I say “at least” because there are two accounts of Ambrose Ray Bradshaw’s obituary, one indicating that he had sixteen siblings (some half-siblings) and the other account from a niece indicating he had two siblings and twenty half-siblings.
Ambrose, known as “A.H.”, was eighteen years older than Callie Donia and died at the age of seventy-four on November 21, 1941 from pneumonia. At the time of his death, he was survived by his wife, six sons and four daughters. His parents had died in North Carolina in the 1910’s. Using census records, to the best of my calculations, it appears that together he had sixteen children and stepchildren – eight from his first marriage, five from Callie Donia’s first marriage and three of their own.
Callie Donia Fickling
Callie Donia Fickling (some family historians believe her actual name was Caledonia) was born on March 7, 1885 in Young County to parents Robert Glasgow and Malinda Louise (Rogers) Fickling. Her parents were both born in Alabama and in 1900 Callie Donia was the second oldest of eleven children.
On October 16, 1904 she married John Franklin Osborn and together they had at least six children it appears. As noted above they were William Terrell, Ethel Irene, Edgar Franklin, Josie May and Bishop Marvin. Mollie, born in 1911, died in 1912. It is unclear when Frank and Callie Donia divorced or whether he remarried (his death certificate in 1949 stated he was divorced and son W.T. was the contact).
An aside: Some family trees indicate that Callie Donia married a third time on June 1, 1947 to George Thomas Collier, but there don’t seem to be any facts to back that up. That, in addition to the fact that the George they refer to died in Sevier County, Arkansas in 1952 and there is no mention of Callie Donia.
Callie Donia was a homemaker who moved to Olney in 1967. She was a member of the Assembly of God Church and her son Ambrose Ray, also a member of the denomination, had served in World War II and later attended Southwestern Assemblies of God College (now University) in Waxahachie, Texas. This was of interest to me since I attended college there as well.
At the time of her death on October 6, 1974 at the age of eighty-nine, Callie Donia Fickling Osborn Bradshaw was survived by three daughters and five sons. She was buried next to Ambrose in Proffitt Cemetery.
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Surname Saturday: Cakebread
This unusual name is among the oldest known surnames, possibly of Norse-Viking and Olde English pre-ninth century origins, according to The Internet Surname Database. The name may have been derived from a combination of a Norse word, “kaka” (meaning cake) and the English word “brede”.
Since many of the early surnames reflected a certain profession, it’s likely Cakebread was an occupational name for someone who was a baker of fancy bread. These were probably dainty cakes and small flat loaves, made of an especially fine and sweet flour called “cakebread”. A similar name of French origins, Blanchpain, would also indicate someone who was some sort of specialty baker.
In 1109 Canterbury records mention Aedwinus Cacabread during the reign of King Henry I; in 1210 Alred Cake appeared on the pipe rolls of Norfolk; John le Kakier appeared on a1929 London record; Richard Cakebread was listed on the Subsidy Rolls of Suffolk in 1327.
Spelling variations include Cakebread, Cacabred, Cakebred, Cacabread, Cakbred and Cakebrede, although since the fourteenth century the spelling has been fairly consistent as “Cakebread.”
Among the first Cakebreads to immigrate to America were Thomas and Sarah (Busby) Cakebread. They are listed on a passenger list of the Winthrop Fleet, a group of eleven ships led by John Winthrop, who brought approximately one thousand Puritans to New England in the summer of 1630. Thomas died in 1642 and Sarah married John Grout in 1643.
Jane Cakebread
The most infamous Cakebread who ever lived had to have been an English woman named Jane Cakebread:
The Los Angeles Herald published an obituary of sorts for Jane on December 18, 1898:
Jane Cakebread, for years a figure in the London police courts, is dead. She held the record for convictions for drunkenness or disorderly conduct, having been found guilty of these offenses about three hundred times.
Jane Cakebread was an extremely interesting old woman – to study. Physicians and those who teach temperance in strong drink finally decided that she was drunken because she liked drunkenness. The police agreed with them. When she was drunk she was violent and vicious; when she was sober, she was very repentant, and so remained until she got drunk again.
She was fifty-seven years old, so it is debatable if the habitual use of alcohol internally shortened her life. Forty years ago she went from her home in Hartfordshire to London and became a parlor maid – and a smart one. In forty years are 480 months. It is fair to presume that Jane suffered on an average a fortnight’s imprisonment on each of her 300 convictions; 150 months’ imprisonment in all. So in forty years in London she was in the lock-up twelve years and a half, and free – drunk or repentant – twenty-sever years and a half.
There is a tradition that Jane Cakebread was very handsome when young, but of late years, whatever her capacity as a professional drunkard, she could not have posed as a professional beauty.
Her chief claim to true fame must always be that she was the prime cause of Lady Henry Somerset’s libel suit for $25,000 damages against William Waldorf Astor. Lady Henry Somerset, as every one should know, is a wonderful and sincere advocate of temperance in strong drink. Lady Henry studied Jane Cakebread and decided that she was not bad at heart, nor cruel, had never willfully harmed anybody but herself. To rescue a brand from the burning Lady Henry induced Jane to enter the temperance home on her ladyship’s Redhill estate, four miles from a saloon. In a few days Jane had turned the home into a pandemonium, and at the end of three weeks Lady Henry turned her out as utterly unmanageable and because she corrupted other inmates.
A few days later Jane was again in a police court, and at Lady Henry’s suggestion was examined as to her sanity. The physician certified that she was irresponsible, and as a preliminary step she was sent to the Hackney Infirmary. There the old woman, who was not bad at heart, nor cruel, kicked the medical officer, Dr. Gordon, in the ribs. Soon the doctor became ill and two of his ribs proved to be broken. On the Bowery they would have said “Jane kicked in his slats.”
The Pall Mall Gazette was impolite enough to say repeatedly that Jane Cakebread’s madness was caused by association with Lady Henry Somerset. William Waldorf Astor was asked to withdraw these remarks and apologize. He not only refuse to do either, but when Lady Henry began suit for libel, dared to assert justification as his defense, declaring in effect that Lady Henry and her associates by their methods or furthering intemperance, would drive nearly anybody mad.
The best lawyers in London were engaged by the parties to the suit, but it was settled out of court. Mr. Astor apologized to Lady Henry, and the Pall Mall Gazette and twenty other papers paid the costs. Now the tipsy Jane who provoked the suit is gone.
Another obituary headline called her an “Aged Inebriate”, believing her to be seventy years old. Jane had made her escape from the home after “she had hemmed one hundred and twenty towles, eighteen table cloths, and made a quantity of children’s clothing”, walking in stages back to London, “where she immediately began to make up for her prolonged abstinence. When arraigned for her two hundred and eighty-fifty time, she was in a condition that the police officers described as ‘hilariously drunk.’”
Jane hadn’t been too keen on the idea of going to Lady Henry’s temperance home in the first place:
I means on offense, but I’m not going to no ‘ome – not I, at present, anyhow. “Oh, it’s not an ‘ome at all,” they says, and I’ll do just what I likes, and perhaps that’s so; but I’m going to my own friends, I am.
A prison missionary had tried to help her once and concluded that she had been “misjudged.” He pointed out that Jane had never been arrested for being “drunk and incapable”, but rather for “disorderly conduct.” The missionary declared that one little drop of drink “drove the woman demented.” Articles and essays have been written about her, but most concluded she was beyond help. She was said to have been the reason the Inebriates Act of 1898 was passed, wherein special homes were to be provided for habitual drunkards.
A record of the London police courts indicates that when imprisoned she would sing her favorite hymns or recite portions of the Bible. Her memory was sharp; she could quote two chapters from the Book of Job. She prayed on her knees, only to rise from those prayers and spew obscenities. Clearly she was insane.
Her name began appearing in U.S. newspapers in the late 1800’s. For years, the London press made her story a “standing joke”, according to the New York Times. She was committed to the Claybury Lunatic Asylum in February of 1896 and died there in the fall of 1898. The Hutchinson News (Kansas, Sep 07 1893) had this to say about Jane Cakebread: “Jane takes the cake.”
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Ghost Town Wednesday: Burning Bush Colony (Texas)
This “ghost town” in East Texas is known as the Burning Bush Colony. It was an “intentional community” founded as an offshoot of the Methodist Church. Headquartered in Waukesha, Wisconsin, this splinter group of “Free Methodists” called themselves the “Society of the Burning Bush”, or more formally the Metropolitan Church Association. The organization was funded by two wealthy benefactors, Duke M. Farson and Edwin L. Harvey.
Farson was a bond broker in Chicago and Harvey a wealthy hotel owner. The group was founded in 1900, citing increased formality of the Methodist Church. Colonies were first established in Virginia, West Virginia and Louisiana. In 1912 the society made plans for a colony in Texas and chose an old plantation near Bullard that had been originally owned by Joseph Pickens Douglas.
The land was purchased in 1907 by Charles Palmer, cultivated and planted with pecan and plum trees. Farson made a deal with Palmer, exchanging the fifteen hundred and twenty acres near Bullard for various properties in Idaho, Illinois and New Mexico. Church administrators arrived in 1912 and set up their headquarters in the mansion.
Later that year three hundred and seventy-five church members arrived on a chartered train from the north. They were temporarily housed in the mansion while work began on family homes and dormitory-style buildings for single male and female members. Water and sewage systems were installed and a large wooden tabernacle and school were planned as well.
Church members were required to live communally, eating in a common dining hall and giving up all their worldly possessions upon joining the society. In July of 1905 the society’s publication, called the Burning Bush, advocated that instead of tithing ten percent, adherents were required to give everything to the church:
The reader probably well knows, we preach that we must sell all and follow Jesus. If God permits in this dispensation, for a man to remain on a farm or business, he must give all his earnings to the Lord. The old ‘ten per cent’ is now done away and ‘all’ is the amount to be given to Jesus. Hallelujah, the property once given to Jesus, all Hell is enraged. The Prophet said, he that departed from evil is accounted mad.
There was no type of class system, and though they welcomed visitors onto their property their contact with the “outside world” was limited by choice. Although they used the latest farming equipment available at the time, harvests were unimpressive, apparently due to their lack of knowledge in utilizing southern farming techniques.
Liquor and tobacco were strictly forbidden, yet the only reprisal if caught with the contraband was to take the transgressor to the tabernacle and pray and wail over them, according to the Texas State Historical Association. Their lives in the tight-knit community were centered on work and worship.
One resident of Bullard, L.B. Lynch, recalled years later his visits to their services as a ten-year old boy: “They rolled on the floor, they hollered a lot, and they stood on the benches when they got religion.” They had their own hymnal as depicted below from Ghost Towns of Texas by T. Lindsay Baker (part of the historical collection of the Bullard Community Library):
Five songbooks were published between 1902 and 1913 and many of the songs were written by church and community leaders. The books cost ten to twenty-five cents a copy, and were sold for several decades.
The worship services were intensely emotional. According to the Texas State Historical Association, “one local resident later remembered that the ‘Bushers would turn back flips in church and roll around on the sawdust floor.’ Much of the service was devoted to singing, during which the congregation jumped up and down. Because of this practice, the group was sometimes called the ‘Holy Jumpers.’”
Their original idea had been self-sufficiency, with all they needed contained within their own tight-knit community, but it never happened. With inadequate income derived from the sales of crops, Farson and the Metropolitan Church Association contributed large amounts of money to subsidize the Texas colony. However, it simply was not enough, especially after Farson’s bond business crashed in 1916.
Members began to seek work outside the commune, and as required, turned over one hundred percent of their wages to the church. Still struggling with insufficient funds and inadequate food supplies to remain self-sustaining, the colony began purchasing groceries on credit. The bills piled up and in 1919 the local merchant, J.L. Vanderver, sued for the twelve thousand dollars in outstanding notes.
The county sheriff seized the property and sold it all at a Tyler auction on April 15, 1919 – as it turned out, Vanderver purchased everything for one thousand dollars. Most of the colonists left Texas and returned to the North, although a small contingent remained. Eventually the old mansion and all the Burning Bush Colony buildings were bulldozed. The only remnant left today is a pecan orchard located across the street from Bullard High School.
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Tombstone Tuesday: Euphronius Daniel “Frone” George
Euphronius Daniel “Frone” George was born in April of 1840 in Lunenburg County, Virginia to parents James and Ermine (or Armine) George. Frone was their second son and the 1850 census enumerated six children for James and Ermine, ranging in age from ten to one.
In 1852, James died and it appears that his oldest son William and youngest daughter Mary may have also died sometime between the 1850 and 1860 censuses. In 1860 Ermine was a widow living “North of the Court House” in Raleigh County, Virginia (soon to be West Virginia) with her children Frone, Henry and Harriet, who was listed as a spinster at the age of seventeen.
Ermine moved to the county in 1857 with sons Frone, Henry and James who all served the Confederacy during the Civil War. According to Raleigh County history, Frone was “a noted fiddler in his younger days and was often the whole orchestra at the dances held in the neighborhood of the [Army] camp.”
Frone was an early enlistee, signing up on June 3, 1861. Henry, only seventeen, signed up the same day and records indicate he was later captured and served as a nurse at Camp Douglas, Illinois near Chicago. James enlisted in April of 1862, joining his brothers in Company C of the 36th Regiment of the Virginia Infantry.
Frone was wounded twice and Civil War records indicate that one incidence occurred on September 8, 1864. A Raleigh County history book included the following story about one of those incidences:
Frone George, a soldier of the Confederacy for four years was wounded twice. Says he saw himself “shot ON the breast – looked at the minie ball as it hit him – did not penetrate, but made a very sore, black spot and hurt worse than if it had gone inside” says he could have stayed under cover but did not think the dam Yankee could shoot straight enough to hit him.
On May 24, 1865 at the headquarters of the First Separate Brigade in Charleston, West Virginia, Frone (E.D.) George signed his parole papers, promising to conduct himself “as a good and peaceable citizen” and never again take up arms against the United States Government.
Frone returned home and on January 21, 1868 he married Mary Keffer in Raleigh County. In 1870 he moved to Beckley and opened a blacksmith shop which he operated for over forty years. Mary’s father Samuel may have worked with Frone since they are enumerated as next door neighbors and both listed as blacksmiths in the 1870 census.
Their first son William was born in 1869, likely in honor of Frone’s older brother William. Their only daughter Leona was born in 1872, second son Frederick Clyde was born in 1874 and their last child Charles Edward was born in 1876. William was tragically killed by lightning on August 20, 1900 while working as a carpenter. The architect of the project, J. Price Beckley, grandson of the town’s founder General Alfred Beckley, was also killed.
Frone continued to work as a blacksmith, known by his friends and neighbors as a “man of many abilities . . . about whom volumes could have been written without great effort.” He died on October 17, 1918 and is buried in the Wildwood Cemetery in Beckley, alongside Mary who died in 1926.
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