History Twisters: (Naming Our Fair City: Lubbock . . . . or Willis?)
I wrote this article several years ago as newsletter editor of the South Plains Genealogical Society (SPGS), and presented it as a “theory”. We simply don’t know for sure, as you will see.
By the way, if you’re interested in exploring your family history (or you’ve been working on it for years), consider joining SPGS. On Saturday, May 9, we will be celebrating the 65th anniversary of our founding at our regular meeting at Mahon Library (Community Room) at 10:00 a.m. More info here: https://spgstx.org/
Long-time Lubbockites are no doubt familiar with the story of how our fair city came by its name. Articles have been published over the years in the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal. You might think the article title a bit odd, but there’s another story (theory) to be told.
Thomas Saltus Lubbock was born on November 29, 1817 in Charleston, South Carolina to parents Henry Thomas Willis and Susan Ann (Saltus) Lubbock. At the age of seventeen Thomas went to New Orleans and became a cotton factor. A cotton factor worked with cotton planters to market and sell their product, acting as a broker for a commission.
That career was short-lived after Thomas heard about the Texas Revolution. He then marched to Nacogdoches with Captain William Cooke’s New Orleans Greys and participated in the Siege of Bexar, the Revolution’s first major campaign. Lubbock then set out to once again acquire an honest living, taking a job on an upper Brazos River steamboat.
Unbeknownst to Lubbock the Revolution continued as Santa Ana laid siege to the Alamo and later General Sam Houston, in turn, laid waste to the Mexican forces at San Jacinto. Meanwhile, his brother Francis Richard Lubbock had arrived in 1836 and would later serve as Texas governor during the Civil War. In 1838 twenty-one year-old Thomas sailed from Galveston back to New Orleans.
Three years later he served as lieutenant in a combined political-military-commercial fiasco (as it turned out to be) known as the Texas-Santa Fe Expedition. The expedition, conceived by Republic of Texas President Mirabeau Lamar, was tasked with establishing a trade route to Santa Fe and, hopefully, persuade New Mexicans to join the new republic.
The party, consisting of merchants and civil commissioners protected by the military force, headed out from Kenney’s Fort about twenty miles north of Austin on June 19, 1841. Traveling north and crossing the Brazos River they arrived in present-day Parker County on July 21.
Their intentions were to travel northwest and find the Red River, but instead mistook the Wichita River for the Red and had to backtrack. Meanwhile, the Mexican guide had disappeared. Fighting off both Indians and starvation, the expedition eventually reached Quitaque Creek in present-day Motley County. Not knowing how to best descend the steep Caprock, part of
the military force was sent ahead to locate some New Mexican settlements.
After finally making it across some rather difficult terrain, and expecting to be welcomed with open arms by New Mexicans, the group was instead met with armed resistance. New Mexico Governor Manuel Armijo had been informed of the expedition and sent forces to dissuade the Texans. Around the area of present-day Tucumcari, without a shot being fired, the expedition force surrendered itself into Mexican hands.
Thomas was among those captured and he and his men were marched to Mexico City and confined in the Santiago Convent. Ever the adventurer, Lubbock escaped by jumping from a balcony and made his way home to Texas.
Lubbock continued serving in various military campaigns, and by the early 1860’s he was an avid secessionist, a member in good standing of the Knights of the Golden Circle (KGC). KGC sought to establish a slave-holding empire throughout the South, stretching all the way to Central America, with Havana as the center of the so-called “golden circle”.
Lubbock accompanied other secessionists to Virginia and in June of 1861 petitioned President Jefferson Davis for “authority to raise a company or battalion of guerrillas”.1 Impressed with this band of Texans, Davis wholeheartedly welcomed their support.
While still in Virginia, Thomas Lubbock, Benjamin Franklin Terry and fifteen other Texans organized as independent rangers who would act as civilian scouts for the Confederate Army. Lubbock and Terry both served as battlefield aides at the “First Bull Run” and were afterwards authorized to raise a cavalry regiment. The regiment, the Eighth Texas Cavalry, was more
commonly known as Terry’s Texas Rangers, however.
Terry served as the regiment’s colonel and Lubbock its lieutenant colonel. Lubbock fell ill and left the regiment at Nashville. While recuperating at Bowling Green Hospital, Lubbock received word that Colonel Terry had been killed at the Battle of Woodsonville (Kentucky) on December 17, 1861. Lubbock, however, never recovered nor returned to active duty, dying shortly thereafter in January of 1862.
Good story and a worthy namesake for our beloved city, right? But, what if Lubbock wasn’t actually his family surname? And, why in the world would I ever propose such a thing? For the answer to that question, read on.
Can you imagine Lubbock being named Willis — I can’t. However, the actual and historical family name from which Thomas Saltus Lubbock descended could possibly have been Willis and not Lubbock. I came across research notes assembled by Eric Lubbock, 4th Baron Avebury, and was intrigued. Following is a summary of his research and various hypotheses.
The story begins with Reverend Henry Willis, born in 1738 or 1739 to John and Temperance (Hames) Willis. Following a brief naval career, Henry Willis married Jane Lubbock, daughter of Richard and Jane Lubbock. They married in 1765 and together had six or possibly seven children. Their third child, Richard Lubbock Willis, was born in 1770.
It is assumed Jane died in childbirth since Henry remarried in 1784. Prior to his remarriage Henry had attended Merton College and Oxford in pursuit of a career as a minister. He later served as Rector of Little Sodbury and Vicar of Wapley. Henry remarried yet again in November of 1792 and subsequently took an appointment to a parish in East Shefford, Berks.
Along the way Henry obtained land and had the expectation of inherited wealth if certain conditions were met. However, Eric noted that Henry’s wealth may have been depleted by the extravagances of his son Richard Lubbock Willis. In his original will dated October 3, 1783 Henry wrote: “Having by some Indiscretions (but much more by disappointments) only a small matter to leave behind me . . .”2
A codicil dated August 30, 1791 referred to son Richard’s excesses and/or improprieties:
My eldest son Richard Lubbock Willis having by his Infamous Conduct forfeited my favour & affection I here cut him of [sic] from any Share of my Effects except for one shilling to be paid him after my decease by my Executors.
Henry’s daughters Temperance Jane and Ann Packer Willis immigrated to Augusta, Georgia, either with Richard Lubbock or perhaps on their own in 1794 following Henry Willis’ death. Richard Lubbock Willis immigrated sometime around 1790 to Augusta. A man named Richard Lubbock married thirteen year-old Diana Sophia Sandwich in Beaufort, South Carolina and
their first child, Henry Thomas Willis Lubbock, was born on July 24, 1792. Was it possible Richard had dropped the Willis surname? Had he named his first child after his father to regain favor with him? Or, was this even the same person?
According to Eric it seems likely Diana Sophia’s husband was somehow related to the Willis family since she was named executrix of the will of Ann Packer Willis, “formerly of Grovesend, Alverton, Gloucestershire, sister of Temperance Jane Willis”. Even though the Gloucester Record Office had concluded Richard had dropped the Willis surname, Eric believed that may not have been the case.
How could the ill-tempered and disinherited Richard Lubbock Willis possibly be the same man who was by all accounts a pillar of his community? While Ann Packer Willis had referred to Diana Sophia as her “sister and wife of my brother Richard” Eric proposed Diana’s Richard may have been a first cousin named Richard Lubbock, and referred to colloquially as her “brother”. That might be a stretch too, but still intriguing.
Richard the “black sheep” was in England in June of 1794 following the birth of Henry Thomas Willis Lubbock in 1792. If this Richard was indeed the father, then perhaps he had returned to England before Henry Willis’ death in December of 1794 to get back in the good graces of his father.
Henry Thomas Willis Lubbock studied medicine and was a practicing physician until 1819. He married Susan Ann Saltus and in 1817 Thomas Saltus Lubbock was born — and later his name attached to our city.
Based on Eric Lubbock’s research, this story does beg the question: was Thomas Saltus Lubbock really a Lubbock or descended from a man named Henry Willis? Perhaps this particular bit of history isn’t so settled after all, eh?
If you’d like to read more about Eric Lubbock’s research and theories, see the footnotes below and draw your own conclusions. Eric Reginald Lubbock was born in 1928, inherited his title in 1971 and served in the House of Lords. The long-time politician was passionate about family history and passed away on February 14, 2016 at the age of 87.
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Footnotes:
A Genealogical “Head-Scratcher”: Stumbling Across Hidden Cousins
After years of learning the ins-and-outs of family history research (and still learning!), I’ve come to the conclusion that “genealogy is not for the faint-of-heart.” Just when you think you’ve busted through one “brick wall”, yet another one pops up. Genealogical research is fraught with pitfalls – from “brick walls” to missing records, mysterious disappearances and more. Then, there’s the following tale of stumbling across “hidden cousins”.
It all started with a Surname Saturday article for the Digging History blog in mid-August 2015. I hadn’t written one of those articles in awhile, and after stumbling across an interesting bit of family history I felt compelled to write about the Renfrew (variously spelled Renfro, Rentfrew, Rentfro, Rentfree and more) surname.
While researching for an interesting character for another regular column (Tombstone Tuesday), I had recently come across an unusually-named woman: June Victory “Queen Victoria” Rentfrow Parrish. While attempting to find out more about “Queen Victoria” I came across others with the Rentfrow surname who might have been related to her. I tucked away the entry for her and proceeded to write a Surname Saturday article, which turned out to be much more than the normal fare – a genealogical head-scratcher for sure!
One of my rules for selecting entries at Find-A-Grave (the most common source of Tombstone Tuesday articles) was that it couldn’t be someone I was knowingly related to. Yet, as I began looking at “Queen Victoria” and her Rentfrow family, I eventually discovered something quite startling to me — these people with the Rentfrow surname were related to me even though I have no such name in my ancestral line … anywhere. How could that be?
I came across two records, one at Ancestry.com and another the Find-A-Grave entry of Thomas Jefferson Rentfrow. When I saw the Ancestry.com record, I thought it very unusual and perhaps someone’s mistake. T.J. Rentfrow’s parents were Hickman Hensley and Elizabeth Rentfrow. But, why were their children surnamed “Rentfrow” and not “Hensley”?
The most compelling detail was the name Hickman Hensley. I have at least one ancestor, and possibly two by that name: Hickman John Hensley (1806-1872), my fourth great-grandfather, and Hickman Hensley (1759-1815 or 1816), possibly my sixth great-grandfather. Hmm. A little more digging was clearly in order. Here’s what I discovered.
According to family researchers who base their findings on the Bible records of Hickman Hensley and Elizabeth Rentfrow, Hickman was born in Virginia on April 15, 1759 to parents Benjamin and Elizabeth (Hickman) Hensley. From what I had skimmed through it appeared Hickman was first married to Agnes Fisher – sometime before 1778 perhaps. By 1790 he is enumerated in the first United States census with a large family.
While it’s unclear just how many children Hickman and Agnes had (or, for that matter, their names), one researcher believes four of their sons were Larkin, Samuel, William and James. Some believe they also had a son named George Washington Hensley, who may be my fifth great-grandfather and Hickman John Hensley’s father.
Some believe Agnes died before 1800 (perhaps sometime in the 1790s following the census). This is likely when Elizabeth Rentfrow entered the picture. Elizabeth was the daughter of John and Elizabeth (Fisher) Rentfrow – Agnes was her aunt and, by marriage, Hickman’s niece. Researchers claim records prove that Hickman and Elizabeth never married and their children listed in the family Bible were: Jesse, Rhoda, Rodice, Joseph, John, Eli, Levi, Thomas Jefferson and James Madison – all taking the surname of their mother Elizabeth Rentfrow. As someone pointed out, it seems an odd place to list children born outside of marriage. Technically, they were Hensleys, making them my kin even though none of Elizabeth’s children are part of my Hensley line.
It’s possible George Washington Hensley was not the son of Hickman and Agnes – it doesn’t appear that Hickman’s children with Agnes were enumerated in the Hickman-Rentfrow family Bible records either. Still, it seems logical and certainly possible there is a link if George Washington Hensley had a son named Hickman John and perhaps named him after his own father?
I may not be able to prove if Washington belonged to Hickman and Agnes but I found this such a fascinating story. After writing the article, I started thinking Hickman who had Rentfrow children might be a great uncle instead. However, I’ll still file this away as part of my Hensley history.
A few days after publishing the article, I received my first contact from one of my Rentfrow (really Hensley) cousins!
Thomas Jefferson Rentfrow
Thomas Jefferson Rentfrow was born to Hickman Hensley and Elizabeth Renfrow in Maury County, Tennessee on July 12, 1812. It appears for a period of time Hickman had been in and out of Tennessee before settling there sometime between the 1800 and 1810 censuses. When or where Hickman died is uncertain, but Elizabeth was later enumerated in 1850 living in Effingham, Illinois with her son T.J. Rentfro.
T.J. married Eleanor Trapp in 1843 and was a prominent citizen of Effingham County. I wouldn’t normally quote such a lengthy passage, but this one has a great deal of information about early Illinois settlers. His biography was included in the History of Effingham County, Illinois:
Thomas J. Rentfrow, farmer, P.O. Effingham, was born in Maury County, Middle Tennessee, in July, 1812. In the fall of 1829, he came to Illinois with his mother, who settled in Wayne County, near what is known as Fairfield, until the spring of 1830, when they came to Effingham county. Richard Cohea and Hickman Langford, brothers-in-law, came at the same time, and four brothers of our subject, Jesse, John, Joseph and Eli, joined the party in this county in 1860. They settled on the Little Wabash, just above Ewington, this county. At this time there were more Indians in this county than white people. Our subject states that there were only two white families within 10 miles of their home; these were John P. Farley and Samuel Bratton. The Rentfrows brought four horses and one ox team.
On their arrival, they went into a deserted Indian Camp on the Wabash bottom, near what is now known as the old Reynolds place, in the month of March, while snow was yet on the ground, making their surroundings as comfortable as possible, they began to tap the maple trees and make sugar. The old camp was made of linn puncheons pinned to trees with wooden pegs; they contented themselves as best they could in this temporary shelter, until they had time to build a house on the hill, near a spring, as the Tennesseans in those early days did not know what a well was. Joseph was the bread finder, and went as far as Paris, in Edgar County, to get corn, on horseback. In those days, the greenhead flies were so thick and ravenous that it was impossible to travel in mid-day with the additional pest of mosquitoes and gnats. They cleared off a patch in the bottom and planted corn, and also a patch of cotton, but the latter was a failure. The corn for bread was pounded in a wooden mortar, dug out of a log or stump, with a pole attached like a well sweep, with an iron wedge as a pounder. Raising early in the morning, preparing the frugal breakfast, the pounding for meal was answered by the gobbling of the wild turkeys, which were very abundant in those days.
In a few years, the convenience of the colony was improved by the erection of a horse mill on the Okaw, thirty-five miles distant, whither the subject would go with his grist, and had to wait four or five days for his turn at the grist, living on parched corn and sleeping in the mill. The journey on these occasions was made with ox teams across the prairie at night, driving into the bushes, cutting them down and building “bush harbors” for protection, the oxen feeding on the high grass so common in those days. When the grist haulers arrived and squatted around the mill, it had the appearance of a modern camp meeting. Deer, wild turkeys, and bee trees were plenty, and it took but a short time to accrue either to supply their need. A few black bears could be encountered, and wolves, big and little, were plenty, and at times dangerous.
The tables of the settlers were furnished with wild meat, wild honey and corn bread. Our subject went to school for a few months in Tennessee, but never had an arithmetic or a quire of paper, and never attended a school after settling in this county. He remained a member of his mother’s family until he was married, May 18, 1843, to Miss Eleanor Trapp, daughter of John Trapp, of this county, who was at one time Sheriff of Effingham County. He had made improvements on the first settlement of the family, and bought the interest of his mother and others, which he sold to Reynolds for $160.00 and entered 120 acres in Section 35 in 1842, afterward entering 280 acres more; he now owns 300 acres, all under cultivation, raising principally grain, with good success.
Mr. Rentfrow, is the father of ten children, six of whom are living – John C., of this county; Mary E., wife of Dennis O. Keating; William Elijah, of this county, Sarah, wife of Lee Burrell of Effingham; Stephen A. and Michael, at home. Once upon a time, Mr. Rentfrow, while hunting with Alexander McWhorter, they would lay out all night, Rentfrow placing a coon skin under his head for a pillow; the natural warmth of his head united with the heat from the log heap, melted the snow and frozen ground while he was sleeping, on awakening; he found his hair frozen to the ground, requiring skill, patience and solid pulling to get him loose. Mr. Rentfrow was elected sheriff of this county in 1843, which he held for eight years; he was nominated by the Democrats of which party he had been a lifelong member.3
Thomas Jefferson Rentfrow (actually a Hensley, and more than likely my kin) died on October 6, 1889 and was buried in the Rentfrow Cemetery in Effingham County.
Like I said, “not for the faint-of-heart!
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Footnotes:
Don’t Be Duped: The King of Genealogical Fraud
Being Aware of Past Incidences of Genealogical Fraud
Not intending to throw a “monkey wrench” into anyone’s long and relentless pursuit of family history, but I draw attention to another important thing to be aware of: blatant genealogical fraud which occurred in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Believe it or not, it is in fact still possible these genealogical hoaxes have crept into our own research today.
Harriet de Salis was a British authoress (publishing under the name “Mrs. de Salis”) of numerous books in the late nineteenth century. She was well known for a variety of published cookbooks and it appears she fancied herself an expert on an array of other subjects such as raising dogs (Dogs: A Manual for Amateurs, 1893) and poultry (New-Laid Eggs: Hints for Amateur Poultry-Rearers, 1892). Her book, The Housewife’s Referee, was a “treatise on culinary and household subjects”.
Mrs. de Salis also had a rather short career in the field of genealogy. In the 1870s she began sharing tidbits of genealogical “research” which came to be recommended by one of the most distinguished resources for early American ancestry, The New England and Genealogical Society. Harriet had formerly worked with Joseph Lemuel Chester, who although born and raised
in America, left the country and settled in England in the late 1850s.
Chester embarked upon a career in genealogical research after receiving a commission from the United States government to research wills recorded in England prior to 1700, thereby contributing vital research data concerning early American ancestry. Joseph Chester was the person who eventually revealed the de Salis deception after she confessed to him she had
fabricated at least two wills. By 1880 Mrs. de Salis’ genealogical career was over and eventually her fraudulent claims were corrected.
Meanwhile, back in America, Horatio Gates Somerby (1805-1872) was subtly perpetrating a similar fraud. Somerby wasn’t necessarily attempting to link various family lines to famous or noble ancestors. As Paul C. Reed noted in his 1999 article published in American Genealogist, Horatio Gates Somerby was “not necessarily better at fakery than Mrs. de Salis”.4 Still, Somerby probably thought he could get away with it because records were far less accessible than they are today.
In 1976 American Genealogist identified some lesser-known genealogical fraudsters: C.A. Hoppin, Orra Eugene Monnette (founder of the Bank of America), Frederick A. Virkus and John S. Wurts. The history surrounding these hoaxes is fascinating, but one man’s genealogical hi-jinks topped them all.
The King of Genealogical Fraud
Swedish-born Gustave Anjou perhaps got off on the wrong foot in life, so to speak, as Gustaf Ludvig Jungberg, the illegitimate son of Carl Gustaf Jungberg and his family’s housekeeper Maria Lovisa Hagberg. After serving a prison term for forgery in 1886, he changed his name to Gustaf Ludvig Ljungberg. Following his marriage in 1889 Anjou took his wife’s maiden name and changed the spelling of his first name to Gustave.
After immigrating to America in 1890, Gustave was up to his old tricks – more or less back in the forgery business. Anjou began developing a mail-order business, targeting wealthy American families who were willing to pay $9,000 for their family history. That was a lot of money and today would probably equate to well over $200,000.
Coal baron Josiah Van Kirk (“J.V.”) Thompson ended up paying Anjou over $50,000 to research several family lines he was interested in. Thompson had declared voluntary bankruptcy in 1917 and began devoting himself to genealogical research, with hopes to compile his research, publish it and make a tidy profit. In 1930, before an Orphan’s Court, defending himself against contempt charges, Thompson admitted to paying the considerable sum to Anjou.
Anjou would travel – his obituary cited some sixty trips to Europe and several around the world – to “research” his clients’ ancestries. He would place various noble and royal ancestors on their family trees, often using made-up European parishes and forging wills and vital records. Many of these genealogies would be published, reprinted several times and distributed to the genealogy collections of large libraries.
Not content to forge his clients’ genealogies, Anjou forged his own as well. According to Robert Charles Anderson, author of an article entitled “We Wuz Robbed!”, an Anjou genealogy would typically consist of four recognizable features:
- A dazzling range of connections among dozens of immigrants (mostly to New England).
- Many wild geographical leaps, outside the normal range of migration patterns.
- An overwhelming number of citations to documents that actually exist, and actually include what Anjou says they include.
- Here and there an “invented” document, without citation, which appears to support the many
connections as noted in the first item.5
One can imagine what all the fakery could lead to – estate fraud stands out as one of the most damaging. Someone basing their claims, even if unknowingly, on a fraudulent genealogy would have themselves been committing fraud.
It wasn’t uncommon either for so-called “confidence men” to pepper advertisements throughout American newspapers searching for “missing heirs”, the prospects of which were “ripe for the picking” on the unsuspecting (and gullible) general public. Newspapers like the Boston Evening Transcript and the New Orleans Times-Picayune began running genealogy columns in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Because “Dr.” Anjou was considered an “expert” his work was sometimes cited as a resource.
Of course, Gustave Anjou wasn’t a genealogist, but rather a forger of genealogical records. Somewhere along the way he “obtained” a Ph.D apparently as the New York Times reported on November 17, 1905 that “the library of Gustave Anjou, Ph.D, an extensive collection of American history and genealogy, was sold.” The collection consisted of “privately printed or locally published family and local histories of America, Ireland, Scotland, Wales and England”, which unknowingly at the time were likely based largely on falsified records.6.
In 1921 an article appeared in the Baltimore Sun, stating Anjou was willing to pay $100 for information about the Jack/Jacques family. Was Anjou about to be exposed and perhaps he decided to establish some sort of legitimacy? Although it’s unclear as to why, by 1927 Anjou had dropped his fees considerably as he spread the net wider to garner more clients – making his fees and services “within the reach of many”. However, he made no guarantees as to the accuracy of the genealogies provided.
An article appeared in the December 12, 1927 issue of The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, sounding like the editors might have figured out that Anjou was mostly a fraud, mildly mocking the “gullible with social aspirations . . . trying to convince themselves that there may be something after all” to Anjou’s mail-order offer. For only $250 they might receive a complete list of “forefathers running back to the Crusaders.”7
Of course, Anjou’s mail-order catalog included glowing testimonials like this one:
I am delighted at what you have accomplished in regard to our line, and am really amazed at it, as all clews back of my grandfather seemed obliterated and shrouded in oblivion. I consider you quite a genius in this particular work.8
Anjou conducted his scam from an office building on Staten Island. He was described as “a well-groomed man of 60 with gray hair, a waxed mustache with turned-up ends and he speaks with a foreign accent.” He could not promise royal ancestry, however, the caveat being that many “noble families did not have stamina enough to become ancestors of our sturdy immigrants”.9
Gustave Anjou died on March 2, 1942 and his obituary, published in several newspapers across the country, was a little short on details of his life (or maybe not – since after all this was what he was known for):
Gustave Anjou, 78, genealogist who made 60 trips to Europe and several around the world, tracing lineages of wealthy families at a price of $9,000 a pedigree, died Monday night.10
It would take years, however, to uncover the blatant fraud following Anjou’s death. Some newspapers would cite his research for years to come. Meanwhile, false information continued to be propagated and other fraudulent genealogies were uncovered in the meantime. Such was the case of the Horn Papers. More on the duplicity of William F. Horn later.
If you’ve relied heavily on “hints” that lean more to conjecture rather than solid historical facts and records to fill out your family tree – and one or more of your family lines is on “The Anjou List” (see the link below to download) you might want to do a little more research to ensure you aren’t perpetuating any myths and hoaxes, and as the saying goes “barking up the wrong
tree.” Caveat investigator.
If you have research which you suspect might have been “tainted”, feel free to contact me for a consultation.
Thanks for stopping by! For more stories like this one, consider subscribing to Digging History Magazine. Purchasing a subscription entitles you to subscriber benefits (20% off all services, including custom-designed family history charts) AND a chance to win your very own custom-designed family history chart! Details here (or click the ad below).
Footnotes:
Genealogical Fraud: Don’t Be Duped
If you have been researching your family history for any length of time, you very well may have spent time in what I call the “rabbit hole”, à la Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. “Going down the rabbit hole” is, unfortunately, not uncommon, given what we sometimes rely on to document our research.
I see it all the time when I review family trees on sites like Ancestry and FamilySearch. Many a researcher has obviously taken a trip down the proverbial rabbit hole, relying on dubious research, or, worse yet, copying from someone else’s tree (which may very well have been populated the exact same way).
In particular, genealogical fraud and inheritance scams of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, can still lead us astray – far off the beaten path – even in the twenty-first century. As you will see it pays to know your history, as well as utilizing common sense and some basic math skills. We all need a reminder of the pitfalls of genealogical research from time to time.
It’s no wonder genealogical research has become such a popular pursuit with popular television programming like Who Do You Think You Are? and Finding Your Roots. Ancestry.com and similar sites have ballooned into a multi-million (or try BILLION) dollar industry.
The advertisements seen on television and across the Internet, coupled with the success stories depicted in these shows, have piqued the interest of millions of people around the world. After all it sounds so easy – like magic almost – given the “happy endings” featured in the various genealogy television programs. What is not depicted in these shows, however, are the hours of behind-the-scenes research which must take place in order to deliver those “happy endings”. I hate to say it but so many these days are gullible enough to believe they can discover their family history in a relatively short period of time, just like they do on television. If you are a serious and sober-minded genealogist, you are aware that’s quite unlikely to happen.
There are no magic solutions, nor are there web sites which will reveal each and every detail of each and every one of your ancestors. Remember the old adage: “if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is”? The same can be said for web sites claiming to sell access to databases “you can’t find anywhere else” or quick solutions to your genealogical “brick walls”. These sites, however, are likely to be a total waste of both your time and hard-earned money. Similarly, beware of sites which claim to sell things like your family’s entire history, the history of your family name, or even in some cases a “fake” family crest or coat of arms.
Family Crests and Coats of Arms
One of your ancestors may indeed have been legitimately granted a coat of arms, yet today many web sites seem to imply surnames are attached to these noble symbols. Simply not true.
According to the College of Arms in London, there is no such thing as a coat of arms for a surname. They point out that many people with the same surname can be entitled to entirely different coats of arms, while some people with the same surname (or perhaps a variation) aren’t entitled to one at all.
Furthermore, they point out that coats of arms belong to individuals who have had it granted to them or descendants of the legitimate male line of a person previously granted one. It must be confirmed to be legitimate. And, it’s not that American citizens cannot be entitled to a coat of arms. It depends on whether an American can show proof of descent from a subject of the British Crown or some other royal entity.
A popular misconception exists that the term “family crest” is the same as the entire coat of arms. The crest is “a specific part of a full achievement of arms: the three-dimensional object placed on top of the helm.”9 Thus, those companies who claim to sell your family crest may or may not be on the up-and-up. Caveat Emptor.
Finding the Cherokee Princess in Your Family Tree
Everyone who has actually found a Cherokee princess in their family tree, raise your hand. Hmm . . . I didn’t think so, but why is that? Primarily, it’s because there was no such thing as a Cherokee or Indian princess. Orrin Lewis, a Cherokee, has some observations:
“Princess” may be a very poor translation for the chief’s daughter. Remember, Cherokee chiefs were not kings, but rather chosen by their tribe or community. Lewis muses that perhaps the “mis-translation” may have been the result of American fascination with royalty, or as he called them “romantic-minded white people”.11
“Princess” may also have been a poor translation for an important female politician, peace chief or “Beloved Woman.” Again, these would have been elected positions and not inherited. Should you have such a person, Lewis suggests you not use the term “princess” for such an obviously “interesting and powerful woman”.
The term may have been used by ancestors who married Indian women, hoping to alleviate racial tensions or stigmatization. In fact, men who married Indian women may have referred to their
wives as Cherokee simply because the Cherokees were considered more civil than most tribes.
It’s entirely possible that an ancestor referred to as an Indian princess may have actually been African-American. Lewis related the experience of one family researcher who had discovered that the term was sometimes used derogatorily in the South for light-skinned mulatto women (e.g., “light yellow”).
Next: The King of Genealogical Fraud (whose dubious research still effects family trees today).
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Footnotes:
Genealogically Speaking: Bigger Head
Bigger Head (1812-1912)
I came across this most unusual family name while researching a friend’s Head family line. I found multiple instances of a “Bigger” forename or middle name. First of all, I’ve never heard of anyone with the first name of “Bigger” (have you?) so that alone was intriguing (and near giggle-worthy). Where did that come from?
This particular Bigger Head was born in Highland County, Ohio on October 12, 1812 to parents William and Mary (Elder) Head. According to Head family genealogy, William and Mary were cousins and together had fourteen children, ten of them living to adulthood. Bigger was the second son named Bigger, following the death of the first at the age of eight months in 1807. The name was used twice in this family. Did it have a special significance?
I soon discovered the name began to be used when William Head married his second wife, Anne Bigger, daughter of Colonel John Bigger. So perhaps to honor the “Bigger” surname they decided to name their son (born in 1698) “Bigger Head”. He was the fourth great-grandfather of Bigger Head born in 1812 (if calculations are correct). What became confusing to research (as you might imagine) is sometimes brothers would name one of their sons “Bigger” meaning there could be multiple “Bigger” boys around grandpa and grandma’s table (“Hi, I’m Bigger and this is my cousin Bigger, and my other cousin Bigger”)!
William was the son of Bigger Head, born in Maryland in 1754 and a Revolutionary War veteran, who later removed to Pennsylvania and then migrated to Washington County, Kentucky around 1795. William married Mary Elder in Kentucky, married and then removed to Ohio. Bigger was one of four of their children who later migrated to McDonough County, Illinois. Bigger married Mary Lucas in Ohio on June 28, 1835. To their marriage were born eleven children: Harriet, Lucretia Ellen, James, Mary Catherine, Maria, Renick Richard S., Jennie, Columbia Alta, Augustus Newton, John and Hettie. At the time The History of McDonough County, Illinois was published in 1885, five of their children were deceased.12
After first settling in McDonough County, Bigger owned three quarter sections and retained 340 acres when he and his family moved to the Mound Township in 1876 where he purchased an additional 160 acres. In 1885, Renick, Maria and Hettie still lived in McDonough County and Bigger owned a total of 504 acres.
A school was established on the edge of the Mound Township in 1837. During the winter of 1838, Bigger taught at the school that season. Bigger and Mary joined the Methodist Episcopal Church around 1840 and were faithful members. Bigger served in various offices in the church for over forty years. It appears Bigger also had a “big heart”:
Mr. Head has assisted largely in building six churches. He is always a liberal subscriber to things of that character. He hewed the timber for three churches, while a resident of Ohio. He has always been ready to extend a helping hand to those in need, and when any one has the misfortune to lose his home by fire or other similar incident, Mr. Head always gives liberally.13
In 1860 the value of Bigger’s real estate was $25,000. so he was no doubt prosperous. He had been blessed and gave generously to help others. It is unusual to be able to view 1890 census records as most were destroyed by fire. However, a fragment of that year’s census remains for Bigger and Mary. Bigger’s sister, Mariah who was 74 years old at the time, was either visiting or living with them.
By 1900 Bigger had retired from farming, living in the village of Bardolph which was located in the Macomb township. At the time of that year’s census he was 87 years old and Mary was 84. Their daughter Hettie and her family were enumerated in the same household, either living there or visiting. On February 17, 1905, Mary died just five months and ten days before her ninetieth birthday.
In 1910 Bigger was living with his daughter Marie Winter and son-in-law Wilson in Bardolph. Bigger lived another two years, passing way at the age of 99, four months and eleven days short of his one hundredth birthday. He is buried in the Bardolph Cemetery alongside Mary.
Here are some other “Bigger” fellows (and one gal) that I ran across in the Head genealogy:
● Nancy Bigger Head
● Bigger John Head
● Thomas Bigger Head
● Benjamin Bigger Head
● William Bigger Head
● Bigger Head nicknamed “Round Head”
● One of the Bigger Heads married Lucy Sarah Livers (another unusual surname!)
● Ireland Head (not Bigger, but nonetheless an interesting first name)
Bigger Head of McDonough County, Illinois appears to be one of the last of a long line with that name, however. Today there are but three “Bigger Head” entries at Find-A-Grave. This article has been excerpted from the March-April 2019 issue of Digging History Magazine. In the last issue of 2019 this article was significantly enhanced via extensive newspaper research, entitled “Bigger Family: A Bigger (and Better) Story”. Purchase the November-December 2019 issue here.
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Footnotes:
Genealogically Speaking: Curious Kin (Thomas Jefferson Roach and His “Sister Wives”)
Thomas Jefferson Roach and His “Sister Wives”
I don’t mean to imply “Sister Wives” (as in the TLC reality show of the same name) meant Thomas Jefferson (“T.J.”) Roach was a polygamist. Quite the contrary, since according to family history Thomas was of the Baptist faith. He does, however, have a unique story.
Thomas Jefferson Roach was born on August 25, 1825 in Orange County, Virginia to parents William and Tincey (Row) Roach. On January 27, 1845 T.J. married Alice Farish in Caroline County, Virginia. Census records indicate their first child, Eugenia, was born around 1849.
By 1860 the family had migrated from Virginia to Cherokee County, Texas. Their oldest son, George W., was nine years old that year and had been born in Virginia. The next child, John, was six years old and had been born in Texas. Presumably the family migrated sometime between 1851 and 1854. Two more children, Robert (4) and Mary K. (six months old) were also enumerated in 1860.
According to Cherokee County history T.J. owned and operated a sawmill on Tail’s Creek in Pine Town (now Maydelle). From November of 1856 to April of 1860 he was Postmaster of Pine Town, this in addition to farming. Thomas was a deacon and one of the charter members of The Pleasant Grove Missionary Baptist Church, organized on September 16, 1854.14 In 1855 he had been named a squire which meant he could perform wedding ceremonies.
There is no official record of Alice’s death, although family historians believe she died around 1861 en route to Virginia, perhaps to visit her mother, Clementine, who had been widowed in 1845 when her husband, George Buckner Farish, passed away. It is presumed Alice was buried along the way in an unmarked grave, perhaps in Louisiana or Mississippi. One source, The Tracings, indicates Alice appears on a Mortality Schedule with a death date of April 1860.15 This is curious, however, since she was enumerated on July 23 in Cherokee County for the 1860 census. If true, it seems more likely the family departed sometime after the census date, especially if she died in 1861.
Alice was decidedly unhappy with life in Texas. T.J., like so many others, had come to Texas to seek his fortune, but Alice longed to go home to Virginia. In letters back home she wrote of her contempt for the life T.J. had chosen for his family:
I would rather be poor in Virginia than rich in Texas. . . Texas is a poor man’s country. You have no idea how many poor people there are in Texas. It takes all they have to bring them here and many of them would leave but they have not the means to leave with. They are moving constantly from one portion of the State to another. You rarely see a family but that they are willing to move . . . Texas is a rough country to live in. We have a plenty coarse diet, but I can tell you that dainties are a rarity. Mrs. Herndon says she had to eat so much corn bread that it scratches her throat. She likes Texas as bad as I do. They use the great-quantity of coffee, tobacco and snuff. You seldom meet with a lady young or old but that they use snuff and tobacco. Mr. Roach married a couple last Thursday and he said there as 150 persons and nearly every lady after supper had a pipe in her mouth. Would you not think they were well smoked?16
Perhaps the journey, which would cost $700 round-trip, was a compromise of sorts between the reluctant wife and her fortune-seeking husband.
Although no official records appear to exist, family historians estimate T.J. married Sallie, his first “sister wife” in 1862. Sallie was Alice’s younger sister. In 1860, Sallie was still single and living with Clementine in Caroline County, Virginia. Sallie was available and Thomas needed a wife to raise his children. The couple returned to Texas, although it’s unclear when that occurred. Of note, Alice and T.J.’s youngest child Mary (Mollie) was left with family in Virginia, never to be reunited with her father and siblings in Texas. Mollie apparently never married either.
Sallie died not long after their return from Virginia. Thomas served during the Civil War, joining the Texas 35th Cavalry, Company F, in September 1863. As a 1st Sergeant he served under the command of Captain John T. Wiggins of Rusk. Where the children lived and were cared for during this period of time is unknown, although some records indicate that other members of the Farish family had at some point migrated to Texas.
On February 14, 1865, T.J. married his third wife, Mary Josephine Broome, in Cherokee County. The Tracings notes two children born early in their marriage did not survive. Around 1869 their son Eugene was born and in 1871 another son, Gus Wallace, was born.
Thomas also operated a steam-powered sawmill south of Pine Town. When the county decided to build their own transportation company (a horse-drawn tramway) after being by-passed the Houston and Great Northern Railroad Company. In exchange for company stock, Thomas agreed to provide crossties and narrow wooden rails. It was, without a doubt, a rather risky investment.17
While the railroad met with much excitement in Rusk at its opening on April 29, 1875, it had been constructed on a shoestring budget, utilizing prison labor from the Texas State Penitentiary, and already on shaky ground financially. T.J.’s contributions didn’t fare well, either, as it soon became apparent his rails proved woefully inadequate. Without infusions of stockholder capital, it all went bust in 1879 when the railroad was auctioned off for the grand total of $90.50. T.J. was never paid for the lumber provided.
Nevertheless, T.J. continued to lumber area forests, perhaps supplying wood to his father-in-law Cicero Broome, Josephine’s father. Cicero, born in North Carolina, left Alabama for Texas in 1848. For some time Cicero had been either a “gin maker” (1850 census) or in the milling business. He also owned a furniture factory, manufacturing “primitive wooden cotton gins and mill wheels”.18
While there is no official record of Josephine’s death, on March 23, 1876 T.J. was wed a fourth time to Elizabeth Bobbitt. Family historians report Elizabeth and her twins died in childbirth, presumably in 1877.
On November 14, 1877 T.J. married his second “sister wife”, Kate Bobbitt, who was Elizabeth’s half-sister by their father Anthony T.S. Bobbitt. According to census records, Kate would have been at least twenty-five years younger than T.J. By the time they were married most of Thomas’ children were grown – only Eugene and Wallace, children from his marriage to Josephine, remained with their father. To their family, T.J. and Kate added three more children: Nannie (November 1880), Thomas Jefferson (December 1884) and James (December 1886). T.J. continued to farm in Cherokee County and in 1881 took on the additional duties of Notary Public, which according to Cherokee County History, Texas Governor Oran M. Roberts had appointed him to that office.
Although it isn’t known for sure which wife this is, given the number of short-lived marriages, this may be a picture of T.J. and Kate.
Thomas Jefferson Roach died on February 14, 1891 in Maydelle, Cherokee County, Texas. He was buried in what is today known as the Roach Cemetery in Maydelle. His sons Eugene and Gus Wallace are buried there, as are their wives and two of his grandchildren. Kate, the only one of Thomas’ wives to outlive him, married John T. Jones on December 17, 1900 and died in Rusk in 1919.
The life and times of Thomas Jefferson Roach and his wives demonstrate quite clearly the dangers faced by pioneers who left the comfort of their settled homes in places like Virginia, the Carolinas, Alabama, and Mississippi and joined hundreds of others who had “gone to Texas” during the great migration which took place in the nineteenth century.
With very few doctors to tend the sick and mothers in childbirth, many deaths occurred, leaving widows and widowers and motherless, fatherless children behind. And, with all the siblings, half-siblings, cousin marriages and the like, it’s easy to see why serious genealogical research is not for the faint of heart!
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Footnotes:
Genealogy by Subscription
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Genealogically Speaking: Curious Kin (The “Ocean Sisters” of Johnson County, Tennessee)
The “Ocean Sisters” of Johnson County, Tennessee
Andrew Garfield Shoun and Elizabeth Powell married in 1817 and began raising a family in 1818 with the birth of their first child Andrew. Then came George Hamilton (1822), Rachel Catherine (1823), Isaac Harvey (1825) and Joseph Nelson (1827). In 1829 their first “Ocean” daughter, Elizabeth Atlantic Ocean, was born, followed by Mary and another “Ocean” daughter, Barbary Pacific Ocean, in 1834. They rounded out their family with Elva Olivene (1836) and Frances Eve (1838).
Most of their children had “normal” names like Andrew, George and Mary, but for some reason they blessed two of their daughters with middle names of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Elizabeth was obviously named after her mother. Barbary, according to will records, appears to have been a family name (her grandmother was named either Barbara or Barbary).
Elizabeth Atlantic Ocean Shoun
Elizabeth Atlantic Ocean Shoun was born on April 8, 1829 in Johnson County, Tennessee. In 1850 she was still residing with her parents and siblings at the age of twenty-one. She married Isaac Rambo later that decade on December 7, 1856; he was twenty-three and she twenty-seven. Their names appeared on their marriage license, dated December 5, as Isaac Rambow and Atlantic Shown.
Census records indicate that Isaac and Atlantic never had children. However, her nieces and nephews called Atlantic “Aunt Tackie” – perhaps “Aunt Tackie” being easier to pronounce than “Atlantic”. Although they had no children of their own, their lives later became intertwined with Pacific and her family.
Barbary Pacific Ocean Shoun
Barbary Pacific Ocean Shoun was born on May 12, 1834 in Johnson County. In 1850, she and Atlantic were enumerated with their full names on that year’s census. At the age of nineteen, Pacific married John Monroe “Roe” Gentry on December 11, 1853. Her name appeared as “Pecific O. Shown” on their marriage license. So, apparently the sisters went by their “ocean names”. To her nieces and nephews she was known as “Aunt Siffie” – again presuming “Aunt Siffie” was easier to pronounced than “Pacific”. (In actuality, adults have trouble pronouncing it as well!)
On March 19, 1854, Isaac Lafayette Gentry was born. He would go by the nickname “Fate”. Another son, Robert Phillip, was born on January 2, 1856, followed by Thomas who was born in 1859. Thomas was enumerated as “Thomas A.R.N. Gentry” for the 1860 census, and since no other record of him seems to exist, it is presumed he died as a young child. Pacific was enumerated as “Barbara P.O.”
Pacific’s life took an unfortunate turn when John, presumably called to serve in the Civil War, never returned. According to family history she also suffered a paralyzing stroke, although it is unclear exactly when that occurred. Her sons Isaac and Robert were then raised by their Aunt Tackie. Family historians also believe that Atlantic cared for Pacific, and while Isaac and Atlantic went into town on Saturdays their gardener would rape Pacific. The man was run out of town, yet supposedly Pacific became pregnant and had another son, but the gardener was forced to take him to raise.19
Whether or not the story is true, for some reason Pacific wasn’t enumerated in the 1870 census with her children Isaac and Robert who were living with Isaac and Atlantic Rambo. This particular record was somewhat difficult to locate because the person who transcribed the record listed Isaac and Atlantic as “Isaac and Atlantie Rennels” – although the actual record clearly reads “Rambo”.
However, by 1880 Isaac Gentry was married with a young family of two and Pacific was living with them. It is likely she remained with Isaac and his family for the remainder of her life. Although I found no official records, family historians believe Pacific died on October 22, 1892 and was buried in the Wilson Cemetery, the same one where Atlantic is buried, although Find-A-Grave lists only Atlantic.
Back to Atlantic. Following her husband Isaac’s death in 1899 she lived with Robert Gentry and his family and was enumerated with them in 1900. Apparently Isaac Rambo had been well off because in 1910, Atlantic was enumerated at the age of eighty-two with her “own income” and two servants, N. Hamilton and Dora S. Blackburn. Nephew Lafayette (Fate) Gentry lived nearby. Elizabeth Atlantic Ocean Shoun Rambo died on April 6, 1912, just two days before her eighty-third birthday.
It would certainly be interesting to know why Andrew and Elizabeth Shoun gave these two daughters such unusual names. It seems to have forged a bond between them, perhaps in part because of the uniqueness of their names. Certainly, when circumstances called for it Atlantic was there for her younger sister Pacific – caring both for her and her sons, who in turn kept an eye on Aunt Tackie in her later years.
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Footnotes:
Genealogically Speaking: Curious Kin (Part 1)
I often run across some of the most unusual names while researching either my own family or a client’s. I have to say, though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a set of children named so “uniquely”.
They were all kin, as in related (brothers), but were also all “Kin___”. It reminded me of the Newhart television series shtick: “Hi, I’m Larry, and this is my brother, Darryl, and my other brother, Darryl.”
For this particular family the shtick might have gone something like this: “Hi, I’m Kin, and this is my other brother, Kin, and my other brother, Kin, and my other brother, Kin, and my other brother, Kin.” Perhaps I should explain – it’s a bit of an “adventure” so be patient.
I had been recently researching a DNA match I came across at MyHeritage. While I didn’t originally test through MyHeritage, I had taken my raw DNA (through Ancestry.com) and uploaded it to MyHeritage to see the matches which might might pop up. I had done the same thing by uploading my DNA to FamilyTreeDNA. In the DNA world, as the saying goes, the more ponds you can fish in the better.
It seems the majority of my matches are 3rd to 5th cousins (or even more distant), although occasionally a second cousin match will pop up. Honestly, right now I’m looking for 1st, 2nd and 3rd cousins matches – anything farther out would take too much time and effort. Thus, I often just glance at the “3rd to 5th Cousin” matches. However, I had received a 1st cousin once removed match and was curious to see who it was. I recognized the name, although I don’t believe I’ve ever met him in person.
I started scrolling through some recent matches (most were 3rd to 5th cousins). I kept scrolling until one somewhat startling match jarred my memory a bit. In preparation for watching the new season of Finding Your Roots with Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr., I had recently been watching some old episodes. I had made a mental note of it at the time, but hadn’t followed up (and, of course, forgot about it!).
This particular 2017 episode featured the ancestry of Phillip Calvin McGraw, aka Dr. Phil. His grandmother’s surname was Strickland. I have three Strickland lines in my family – two from my father’s side (different branches) and one from my mother’s side, although the name is “Stricklin” which I believe may be a spelling variation. What jarred my memory was the MyHeritage match of someone named “Phillip McGraw” in his 60’s (Dr. Phil was 68 at the time) and his tree was private. Hmm.
So, I started looking around to see if I could find Dr. Phil’s tree. I discovered a portion of it on someone else’s tree. The last Strickland on this particular tree was Matthew Payton Strickland, born in Pickens County, Alabama. I discovered his father’s name was Kinyard and kept searching back until I came to Abel Strickland and his wife Nancy, parents of at least five male children, who were named thusly:
● Kindred (1788)
● Kinsburd (or Kinsbird) (1790)
● Kinsmon (1792)
● Kinnel (or Kinuel) (ca. 1793)
● Kinyard (ca. 1795)
Along the way I discovered another “Kin” – Kinchen Strickland. There must be a story about these about all the “Kin” Strickland names, but this Strickland kin hasn’t uncovered it as of yet.
I’ve run across more than a few “curious kin” over the years. Stay tuned for more in this series.
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Footnotes:
Ways to Go In Days of Old (Death by Pimple)
I ran across this particular “way to go in days of old” while researching a Surname Saturday blog article several years ago about the Pimple surname (after seeing the name in a list of Revolutionary War veterans). As I researched the unusual surname, I came across several references to “death by pimple” – and, of course, I was intrigued. As is usually the case, these are the best kinds of stories to feature, giving us a sense of how our ancestors dealt with diseases, infections, pestilence and more in a time when medicine and technology we depend on today was non-existent.
You might be surprised to learn that pimples, or “zits” as we now colloquially refer to them, are an age-old problem, one which today we often attribute to poor diet choices. However, the history of unsightly facial eruptions stretches further back than one might imagine, a potentially deadly malady well into the twentieth century. That’s not to say doctors weren’t aware of its serious nature. They just didn’t have the means to effectively treat infections, many of which stemmed from “home remedies” to alleviate the “pox of pimples.”
I am always curious to determine when something was first referenced in newspapers, or at least those available in online newspaper archives. One of the earliest instances of “pimple” I found was cosmetic:
There is newly Prepared a most rich and excellent Beautifying Water, call’d The PEARL COSMETICK, being very Safe, and of admirable Virtue, for taking away Heats, Redness, Pimples, Freckles, &c. Clearing and making the Skin Fair, tho of the brownest Complexion; and excellently freeing it from all manner of Defilements.20
The first instance found in a search of “pimple” at Newspapers.com yielded an article about a suspect in the disappearance of a surgeon who “hath been set upon by some ill people.”
Whereas On Monday last at eight of the clock in the morning, Mr. David Rose, Chirurgeon and Man-midwife, went out of his house in Gun-yard, in Houndsditch without Aldgate, London, and was not heard of since, and having some Million Lottery Tickets about him, together with a Silver Watch made by Lowndes(?), an old Rose Diamond Ring, one Diamond being out, a Gold Seal Ring with T.H.O. engraved on it, within the figure of a Rose, besides several Silver Instruments, and other things of value; there is sufficient reason to suspect that he hath been set upon by some ill people. He is a short square man, with an oval Face, red and full of pimples, and is about 60 years of age, and wears a dark bob Perriwig. Therefore whoever brings news of him to his House aforesaid, or to his Brother, Philip Rose, Dr. Of Physick, living in Brewers Street near Golden-Square, so that he may be see alive or dead, shall certainly be rewarded. . .21
Clearly, one of this man’s most distinct physical characteristics was his “oval Face, red and full of pimples”. Early on, it appears to have been used as a means to identify someone – pimples were a distinct feature. A much earlier reference is notable in William Shakespeare’s play, Henry V, published around 1599, occurring in Act III, Scene 6:
Original: His face is all bubukles and whelks and knobs and flames o’ fire; and his lips blows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue and sometimes red, but his nose is executed, and his fire’s out.
Modern Translation: His face is all pustules and pockmarks, and pimples and inflammation, and his lips blow up toward his nose, which is like a red-hot coal, sometimes blue, sometimes red. But his nose is dead, and the fire’s put out.22
These facial eruptions were unsightly, prompting English women, as early as the mid-1660s, to attempt concealment:
Our Ladies here have lately entertained a vaine Custome of spotting their Faces, out of an affectation of a Mole to setoff their beauty, such as Venus had, and it is well if one black patch will serve to make their Faces remarkable; for some fill their Visages full of them, varied into all manner of shapes and figures.23
The opinion expressed in John Bulwer’s 1653 work, The Artificial Changeling, was not at all complimentary:
This is as odious, and as senseless an affectation as ever was used by any barbarous Nation in the World; And I doubt our Ladies that use them are not well advised of the effect they work; for these spots in Faire Faces advantage not beauty as they suppose . . . This Palliative Artifice which introduceth an acquisite complexion to deceive the Spectatours Eye for a moment is altogether to be rejected by women, especially Christians.24
. . . . .
Suffice it to say, there were numerous, and often questionable “cures” for pimples, including the popular so-called “patent medicines” (essentially nothing but quackery) which became popular in the late 1800s and early 1900s. These were touted as “miracle cures” for any number of maladies and hawked in newspapers around the country. These so-called “patent medicines” were unregulated and, frankly, downright dangerous in many cases.
These so-called “patent medicines” often claimed some “secret” ingredient, but in fact the product’s owner could change the formula on a whim, keep the product name, and the unsuspecting public would never know the difference. Conversely, a true patent medicine would, by United States patent law, be required to disclose all ingredients. Furthermore, the product becomes public property after a certain period of time. Today this is where we get our “generic drugs”.
Really, though, how could anyone believe that taking a swig or two every day of “Golden Medical Discover” or popping one of “Dr. Pierce’s Pleasant Purgative Pellets” was going to cure a skin disorder or relieve one of rush of blood to head? Were these any better than home remedies which had been around for centuries? Traditional medicine gradually grew out of folk remedies, but it was well into the twentieth century before breakthroughs in medicines such as penicillin provided doctors with tools to fight infection and disease. Improper care in treating acne could actually lead to one’s demise without an effective means to treat infection.
Receipts and Remedies, published in 1908, provided “useful hints for everyone on health, beauty, clothing, food, [a] housewife’s complete handbook”. With the premise that the “best way of doing things are often contributed to periodicals by practical men and women who have worked out the problems in their own experience”25 the book was meant to be a handy housewife’s handbook, with advice for dealing with everything from abrasions to wrinkles. For pimples:
When pimples are not very bad washing them every morning with very hot water and ichthyol soap will be found beneficial. If the pimples are very persistent some internal remedy should be prescribed by one’s physician, and at the same time some ointment or lotion should be used. The following remedies are among the best that could be used. Local treatment consists in keeping the skin very clean, and in applying some good healing ointment.
A good ointment for pimples is: Ointment of oleate of zinc, one ounce; ointment of rose-water, one ounce, camphor, ten grains. This should applied to the pimples on retiring at night.
A good lotion for pimples is the following: Carbolic acid, fifteen drops; borax, one drachm; glycerine, four drachms; tannic acid, one-half drachm; alcohol, one ounce, rose-water, two and a half ounces. Dissolve and mix well together. Apply night and morning.
This lotion for pimples is recommended by an authority: To five ounces of elder-flower water add one ounce of spirits of camphor and one drachm of milk of sulphur. Shake thoroughly. Wash the face at night with warm water and soap, and after drying the face apply the lotion with a sponge, allowing it to dry on.
White pimples should be pricked with a clean needle and the little mass gently pressed out. A little cold cream may then be applied to the spots.
A French beauty specialist recommends the following treatment: Boric acid powder, fifty grams; magistery of sulphur, ten grams; distilled cherry laurel water, forty grams; gum arabic, twelve grams. If this does not effect the cure try the following: Magistery of sulphur, twelve grams; sublimate of sulphur, eight grams; rectified alcohol, twenty grams; rose-water, fifteen grams; tragacanth, six grams. Apply night and morning. This is a very strong remedy; in fact a very radical cure for an acute attack of acne.26
The problem, of course, with these remedies (if one had the time and wherewithal to make them!) was they would likely have very little if any effect on an infection, and certainly not for a case of Black Erysipelas (as it was called) or blood poisoning brought on by picking at a pimple.
It was all well and good (based on medical knowledge available at the time) to advise “popping” a pimple with a clean needle and gently pressing the white mass out. However, it’s quite certain the so-called “deaths by pimple” I kept seeing were caused by either a dirty finger or some instrument that was neither clean nor sterile, which in turn invoked the rapid spread of deadly bacteria. The obituaries of these unfortunate souls who died due to an infected pimple should have been a cautionary tale. Here is a sampling of the stories I found:
DIED OF BLOOD POISONING
Daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph
Washburn of DeKalb Picked Pimple
which Resulted in Death
Mr. and Mrs. W. S. Washburn left this morning to attend the funeral of Mr. Washburn’s niece, the 21-year-old daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Washburn of DeKalb, who died Monday as a result of blood poisoning. About a week ago Miss Washburn had a slight pimple on her forehead which she picked with her finger and brought the blood. Poisoning developed later and which resulted in her death Monday.27
This young woman’s untimely death took place while she and her family were in the process of relocating from Sapulpa, Oklahoma to Portland, Oregon in the summer of 1920. Having been recently enumerated in Sapulpa for the 1920 census. Charlotte was very much alive, but not for long, unfortunately:
YOUNG WOMAN DIES OF BLOOD POISONING
Miss Charlotte E. Avery, daughter of Dr. and Mrs. Amos Avery, of Oklahoma, died at the Littleton hospital Wednesday. Death was due to blood poisoning. She left Pueblo with her parents Monday morning, and while on the way a pimple developed on her forehead. By the time they reached Littleton Miss Avery was ill and was rushed to the hospital for treatment but the poison had made such headway that she died Wednesday.
The family was on their way by auto to Portland, Oregon where they expected to locate. . . Miss Avery was nineteen years old.28
Not a pimple, but deadly nonetheless after self-treating with a non-sterile instrument, not at all surprising given the man’s living environment:
DIED A HORRIBLE DEATH
Friday the body of Austin Gilbert was found at his residence, near Brighton, this county. Gilbert was one of the most eccentric characters in this county. He was about forty-five years old, a bachelor, worth several thousand dollars, yet lived alone in a house little better than a hog pen. Death resulted from blood poisoning, caused by carbuncles which nearly covered his body. He opened them with a dirty pair of shears, which caused poisoning.29
He Picked a Pimple
Frank J. Herr, a prominent farmer, died here from blood poisoning. Three weeks ago he noticed a small pimple on his hand and picked it open. He took cold, blood poisoning followed and death was the result. A wife and twelve children survive.30
Just a few examples of how folks died in the days before effective antibiotics (and effective sanitation measures) were available. The rest of this extensive article is available in the March-April 2020 issue of Digging History Magazine. You can purchase it here.
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