Category: Genealogy

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks 2024 – Week 3 – Favorite Photo

I have 1000s of photos after 48 years of researching my family.  I LOVE pictures.  Dates, facts, and events are all wonderful and necessary; without them, there would be no skeleton and no foundation.  Pictures bring all the dry and dusty bones to life.

While I have some unusual and beautiful photos, one stands out as special every time I see it.  My daddy was never really interested in what I found out about his family.  He would listen to my discoveries and then go on about his business.  Unlike my momma, he didn’t get excited.  Not long before he died, his interest grew, and we started spending more time talking about his side of the family.  He shared stories I had never heard, shocked me with some revelations, which is hard to do, and left me with some mysteries to solve.

I printed all the pictures I had found of his relatives, not many compared to Momma’s family, and took them to him after writing on each of them who they were and how they were related to him.

Nancy Yarbrough Moseley
1804-1888

All my life, I’ve heard the words, “You’re James’s little girl; you look just like him!”  It’s true that the genes are strong.  I didn’t realize how strong they are until I found a picture of my paternal/maternal 4th great-grandmother, Nancy Yarbough.

After I showed this picture to Daddy, he showed it to everyone who came through his door and said,

“This is me before I got my hair cut!”

 

 

Letha Collie Mosley
1885-1966
Edna Violet Hamil
1906-1989

 

 

 

 

 

 

James Coleman Black
1931-2016
Susan Diane Black

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m missing a couple of generations, but I bet it’s pretty safe to say that the resemblance is strong.   So, while I have many other pictures that are funnier, more interesting, more “beautiful”, none of them make me smile quite like the one of my Daddy, “before he got his hair cut.”

#52ancestors

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks 2024 – Week 2 – Origins – Shipwreck

“O, brave new world
that has such people in’t!”  ― William Shakespeare, The Tempest

Sea Venture, the 300-ton flagship of the London Company, was the first purpose-built emigration ship. The hold was built with cabins, and the twenty-four canons were stationed on the main deck.  On 02 June 1609, Sea Venture set sail from Plymouth, England, on her maiden voyage, part of the Third Supply mission, as the flagship of a nine-ship fleet destined for Jamestown Colony.  Aboard were Edward Waters, a member of the London Company, which was organized for the purpose of colonizing Virginia, and John Graye Proctor.

The usual course was to sail as far south as the Canary Islands; at that latitude, the direction of the wind was from the West, which would have pushed them across the Atlantic.  They would have then followed the chain of west indian islands to Florida and then up the Atlantic coast.  With the West Indies firmly in the grip of the Spanish Empire, the English fleet turned Northwards into the open Atlantic.  The intent was to bypass the Spanish threat and head directly for Virginia.

On 24 July 1609, days from reaching Jamestown, the fleet ran into a strong storm, most likely a hurricane, and became separated.  Sea Venture fought the storm for three days.  Other ships of comparable size had survived such storms; the critical difference was that Sea Venture’s timbers had not had time to set, and the caulking was forced from between them.  Despite the efforts to bail and jettison the ship’s guns to raise her buoyancy, the hold continued to leak, and the water level rose.

Sir George Somers, Admiral of the Company, spied land on the morning of 25 July; the water in the hold had reached a depth of nine feet, and the passengers and crew were past the point of exhaustion.  Admiral Somers had the ship driven into the reefs of what proved to be eastern Bermuda, allowing 150 people and one dog to be safely landed.

The survivors, who were disenchanted with this new world, were confined to a prisonlike camp for almost a year while they constructed two new ships, the Deliverance, and the Patience, from local cedar and the salvaged wreckage of the Sea Venture.  On May 10, 1610, 142 survivors set sail for Virginia.  On reaching Jamestown, less than two weeks later, they discovered that only 60 of the 500 or so who had preceded them to the colony had survived.  Everyone boarded the ships to set sail back to England, the settlement of Jamestown being deemed unviable.  They were intercepted by a relief fleet and relanded at the colony.

Edward Waters had remained in Bermuda to help hold possession of the island; John Graye Proctor was among the survivors who landed at Jamestown in 1610.  Waters would finally reach his original destination in 1618.

William Shakespeare’s The Tempest was inspired by accounts of the wreck of the Sea Venture, the shipwreck that saved Jamestown, and ultimately the colonization of America.

While this is an interesting bit of history, how does it relate to the prompt of Origins?  Three hundred eighty-eight years after the wreck of Sea Venture, a 10th great-grandson of Edward Waters, Jerrell Blackmon, married a 10th great-granddaughter of John Graye Proctor, Susan Black,  in a small town in North Central Texas!

 

#52ancestors

 

Week 23 – 52 Ancestor Challenge – Curious

After much too long of a break, I’m hoping to finish this project this year.  What better way to get “back in the saddle” than a Murder Mystery…..

In 1998, my husband and I took a road trip in hopes of solving the mystery of the murder of one of my great-great-great-grandfathers, Daniel H. Carroll.  I know very little about this man and that drives me a bit crazy.

From the 1850 Scott County, Arkansas Census, I know that he was born about 1820 in Kentucky.  About 1843 he married Nancy Boultinghouse and they had four children, Sarah Jane in 1844, Francis Marion in 1848, and twins, Thomas Jefferson and Mary Elender Victoria, on 21 Apr 1851.  Fourteen days later Daniel was murdered while at work.  Thirty-one short years of life and a huge mystery that still remains shrouded 171 years later.

“August 5th A.D 1851

Dear Brothers and Sisters

I gladly imbrace the present opportunity of writing you a few lines…..  if you have not heard it I will Now let you know that I lost my husband on the 6th day of last may he was Shot While he was at work about one half Mile from the Mill geting logs in to the Slough his Brother George was with him Tho was some distance from him when he Was Shot.  Daniel never Spoke after he was Shot he turned round and fell on his face and lay there till George went about A Half mile to henry Scaggs and back  George saw the glemps of some person Run off but could not tell who it was

I can not tell for sertain who it was That done the murder but I believe it was one of the Harras boys under The influence of Jo Tumlinson  it is a great loss to me the greatest I could have met with in this world”*

This letter has intrigued me ever since it came into my hands in the late 1980s.  I’ve researched, asked everyone I could think of, run down “rabbit holes”, ANYTHING that might possibly shed some light and reveal more information about who Daniel H. Carroll was and who murdered him.  Much to my dissatisfaction and disappointment, I’ve found very little.

In 1998, Jerrell and I decided to visit Waldron, Arkansas to see if we could discover more information by being at the source.  Waldron is the county seat of Scott County and where Nancy was living when she wrote the letter.  My first stop was at the courthouse where I was informed there were no records that far back due to a fire.  I later learned that between the departing Union troops burning most of Waldron, Reconstruction and the “Waldron War” (1870-1882), there truly were no records to be found.

Nancy’s letter goes on to speak of more murders –

“I will now inform you that Jo Tumlinson And his Clan is not Satisfied with taking Daniels life  they are still seeking more Blood on the 9th day of July all the Men in the neighborhood of Tumlinson Was called out to work the road in the Evening of that day Joe Tumlinson rode up in to the crowd with a gun on his Shoulder and with out any seremony Shot king Bennet and he died in a Few minutes  after Tomlinson Rode off To Waldron and gave himself up to The law and was tried before Esqrs Featherston and Gaines and was acquit He is now the great monster of the West”*

From other researchers and sources I’ve learned that Esquires Featherston and Gaines were apparently “cronies” of Joe Tomlinson/Tumlinson.  That being the case, it’s not surprising that he was “aquit” for the murder of King Bennet.   My researchers mind wants desperately to know, who killed Daniel and why.  Where was he buried, who were his parents and what happened to his brother George.  I’ve been banging my head against this brick wall for 40 years.

What I can tell you is this –

  • Daniel was murdered
  • Nancy moved to Texas with her father, Daniel Boultinghouse prior to 08 Jan 1854 which is when she remarried.
  • George M Carroll, who was born about 1822 in Kentucky, was in the 1850 and 1860 Scott County, Arkansas Census and then disappears.

I was told by a local historian that it was very common for people to vanish from Scott County.  The aftermath of the Civil War and the Waldron War resulted in many murders and disappearances, she said that many people changed their name and moved on.

This may be a mystery I never solve.  I’m currently trying to locate a direct male descendent of my Daniel to take a Y-DNA test.

For further information on how “wild and wooly” Scott County was, The History of Scott County Arkansas paints quite the picture.

That which is not written, is lost forever

Whispers from the Past…..

 

*Excerpts from a letter written by Nancy Boultinghouse Carroll to her brother, Daniel Brown Boultinghouse, and sister, Mahala Boultinghouse Russell, who were living in Georgetown, Williamson, Texas, are quoted in blue italics.

 

 

Week 21 – 52 Ancestor Challenge – Military – The Courage of a Mother’s Heart

…He is the darling of my heart, My Southern soldier boy.  Oh, if in battle he were slain, I know that I would die, But I am sure he’ll come again, To cheer my weeping eye…

SOUTHERN SOLDIER BOY by Captain G.W. Alexander

It speaks to the courage of a mother’s heart that she could endure the personal hell of having her six sons march off to war.   It speaks to the strength of a mother’s heart that she could survive three of those sons dying on the field of battle.

While researching one of my maternal lines I recently came across the family of Lucinda White Morris and William Jackson of Murray County, Georgia.  Lucinda was my 4th great-aunt, she and her husband had 13 children, seven girls and six boys.  The onset of the War Between the States would drastically change the dynamics of this family.

John Morris Jackson, oldest son, born 01 November 1827, died 31 August 1864 – Battle of Jonesborough.

Commissioned a Captain on 03 Jan 1862.  Mustered out on 15 May 1862.  Commissioned an officer in Company A, Georgia 34th Infantry Regiment on 15 May 1862.  Promoted to Full Major on 01 Mar 1863.  Mustered out on 31 Aug 1864 at Jonesboro, Clayton, Georgia.  Burial site unknown.

 

Joseph Franklin Ballenger “J F B” Jackson, second son, born 1830, died 14 January 1912 in Alabama.

Commissioned as 1st Lieutenant in Company B, Georgia Phillip’s Legion Infantry Battalion on 11 June 1861.  Promoted to Full Lieutenant Colonel on 20 Mar 1862.  Mustered out on 20 Mar 1862.  Commissioned an officer in Company S, Georgia 39th Infantry Regiment on 20 Mar 1862.  Mustered out on 29 April 1864.

 

Thomas A Jackson, third son, born 01 October 1836, died 14 March 1869

Served as a 2nd Lieutenant in 60th Georgia Infantry.  Died of war related injuries in 1869.

 

 

 

Eppy William Jackson, fourth son, born 02 Mar 1838, died 30 Aug 1862 – Battle of Second Manassas.

Commissioned as a 1st Lieutenant, Company C, 11th Regiment Georgia Infantry.  Promoted to Captain 27 January 1862.  Burial site unknown.

 

 

William White “John” Jackson, fifth son, born 18 April 1840, died 25 January 1905 in Alabama.

Enlisted as a Private 08 August 1861 in Company E, Georgia 3rd Infantry Battalion.  Promoted to Full Corporal.  Promoted to Full 5th Sergeant on 12 Nov 1861.  Mustered out on 06 May 1863.  Transferred to Company C, Georgia 37th Infantry Regiment on 06 May 1863.  Served as 1st Lieutenant and Adjutant, 36th Regiment (Broyles’) Georgia Infantry.  He was captured 04 July 1863 during the Siege of Vicksburg, Mississippi and was paroled on 09 July 1863.  He was next captured on 16 Dec 1864 at the Battle of Nashville and was taken to a Prisoner of War camp in Ohio.  He was mustered out at Greensboro, North Carolina on 26 Apr 1865.  He was released from the POW camp in Ohio 16 June 1865, after the war ended.

 

Benjamin Floyd Jackson, the youngest son, born 25 February 1845, died 21 September 1863 – Battle of Chickamauga, Georgia.

Enlisted 26 February 1861, the day after he turned 16, as a Private in Company C&B, 1st Georgia Regulars.  Burial site unknown.

 

 

 

When the summer breeze is sighing, mournfully along,
Or when autumn leaves are falling, sadly breathes the song.
Oft in dreams I see thee lying on the battle plain,
Lonely, wounded, even dying, calling but in vain

Weeping, sad and lonely, hopes and fears how vain!
When this cruel war is over, praying that we meet again.

WHEN THIS CRUEL WAR IS OVER by Charles Carroll Sawyer

#52ancestors

Whispers from the Past…..

 

Week 19 – 52 Ancestor Challenge – Mother’s Day – For One More Day

“But there’s a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begin.”
― Mitch Albom, For One More Day

What would I give for one more day or even one more hour with Momma?  Pretty much anything.  I’d love to be able to sit and laugh with her over the silliest of things –

Momma had a heart for her children, nothing was too great a sacrifice when it came to her kids and her grandkids.  She loved us so much that at times I still don’t think we realize how much.  She loved spending time with us and she always had a memory to share.

We’ve laughed over the unusual way I got around as a baby, she even shared it when our church had a graduation celebration my senior year of high school.  See, I didn’t crawl, I would sit down on my bottom, grab my feet, and bounce.  She’s told me dozens of times about how I was running through the house and tripped on the threshold crashing into an end table and gashing just below my eyebrow.  She cleaned me up and put a butterfly bandage on it because she didn’t want me to have a scar from stitches.  More likely she didn’t want to have to bribe me with a new Barbie to keep me from having a hysterical fit if she took me to the doctor.  Then there’s the story about my older sisters and brother fabricating a story about living in a two story house.  Momma was a single mother in the 1950s, Bubba was her right hand and was often in charge of “the girls”.  When Momma was at work they weren’t allowed to have company inside.  They told a neighbor girl that their single story house had an up-stairs.  Naturally, she wanted to see inside and they had the perfect excuse not to let her in, “Momma’s not home.”  They would go inside and stomp around like they were going upstairs.

When we got new carpet all of our furniture was out on the lawn, Momma and her youngest grandson, Brian, laid in the floor and rolled all over the house on the new carpet.  Later, that same day, I caught her and Daddy kissing in the closet under the stairs.  She shooed me away.

She was often called “Nurse Grandma” because she was always caring for our bumps and bruises.  She would wait until a grandchild was sleeping and then carefully remove stitches.  She could cure anything with peroxide, carbolated Vaseline, and Baby Percy medicine if you were human or egg and milk if it was an animal.

She had a white Persian cat with one green eye and one blue eye named Pitty-Pat, actually the cat was my oldest sister, Linda’s cat but right after she got the cat, she left for college.  That cat lived to be 22, probably because she feed her buttered biscuits, which she would sit up and beg for.  When she was a young girl, she had a wolf.  She rescued three orphaned baby squirrels one time and built them a cage in our back yard, we had them for years,

Mother was so loving, kind, and patient, until she wasn’t.  One time that comes to mind was the case of a half wild cat.  Momma had been catching wild cats and having them “fixed”, this one old momma had a littler before Momma caught her and so the fun began trying to catch her and her wild babies.  She finally managed to and was dipping them for fleas.  One in particular was not having any part of this and had managed to stay just out of reach.  Finally, hot dripping with flea solution and just a little irritated, Momma grabs the cat by the tail, snatches it up by the scruff of the neck and “baptizes” it.  She pitched it down saying, “Well, now we know why God gave them handles.”  I couldn’t stop laughing.

Momma loved to tell about her childhood and how she and her best friend, Monaree Goode would slip across the fence at night and ride the neighbors horse, because Momma knew how to make a hackamore. The neighbor couldn’t understand why his horse always seemed tired.   She would tell about learning to play solitaire from an elderly lady that boarded with them and she and I would play for hours.

I always hated when she started out with, “Now don’t you dare laugh.”, that was a sure sign that I was going to laugh to the point of tears and she was going to threaten to “wear me out”, even though I was grown.  Not too long before she passed, I walked into her office and she started out by telling me not to laugh.  She proceeded to tell me about her adventure the night before.  Some years before, Daddy had installed one of the old-fashioned oval shower kits in our big claw foot tub.  Well, it seems that Momma had decided to take a shower in the middle of the night.  By this time her Parkinson’s was pretty advanced and she wasn’t very steady.  My Daddy was asleep across the hall and their little mutt had followed Momma into the bathroom.  It seems that everything went just fine until she attempted to step out of the tub.  Somehow she hung her foot and spun around at the same time thus falling backwards out of the tub.  Now somewhere in this craziness she managed to catch the shower curtain between the back of her legs and the side of the tub creating a sort of hammock.  Yeah, I lost it, I did ask her if she was hurt.  After swatting me a couple of times she proceeded with her story telling me how she had tried to “hollar for Daddy” but by this point she didn’t have a very loud voice.  Her next step was to try to get the dog to go wake him up, not.  I honestly can’t tell you how she got out of the shower curtain hammock because by this time I was gasping for air and crying all while the smacked me on the arm.  Momma, I’m sorry but it’s just one of my favorite memories.

Yes, I would give just about anything for one more day with my Momma, just one more hug, one more kiss, one more hug, and yes, even one more swat.

I love you Momma, till we meet again…….

 

 

 

#52ancestors

Whispers from the Past…..

Week 18 – 52 Ancestor Challenge – Close Up – Nights with MamMaw


Alta Leona Driver
MamMaw
1903-1998

I grew up in the town where my ancestors settled in 1875.  By the time I was 18, my two older sisters and my maternal grandmother were living on the same block that we grew up on.  I can’t count the times someone has asked me, “How does your family live so close together?”  That’s an easy one, we’re all to busy to get in each other’s way.

MamMaw moved two houses down when I was in my teens.  I remember many late nights talking with her and listening to her tell stories about the family.  She had an old trunk that had belonged to her mother and there were all kinds of treasures inside.  There was a boxed brush and comb set, her and Grandpa’s marriage license, a child’s depression glass cup and saucer that she got on the church Christmas tree when she was a little girl, old letters, receipts, photographs, etc.  I loved looking through the items she kept inside.  I remember one time that she couldn’t find the key and even as I told her, begged her actually, not to break the lock, she grabbed a screw driver and broke it open.  She was extremely headstrong.

She would sit for hours and tell me about how she and her cousin Ida slipped off to see my Grandpa off at the train station near the end of World War I.  Just before he was to board the train, they got word the war was over.  She talked about going to taffy-pulls, and getting out of sight of home and taking her shoes off to walk to school.

One of my favorite stories was about her dropping a “dead” wasp down the back of a girls high-top boot at school one day.  The girl was sitting so that her boot tops were away from her leg and when she straightened up, the wasp stung her and the fight was on.

MamMaw loved to watch Saturday Night Wrestling and many weekends I would walk down to her house and we’d drink Coca-Cola out of little glass bottles and watch the Von Erichs.


Norma Louise, Alta, Mary Ruth (my Momma) Grantham in the 30s

She was contrary to say the least.  I asked her sisters once if my Grandpa dying when she was only 27 and leaving her with two small daughters had made her the way she was, perpetually unhappy.  They responded with a resounding “NO, she was always that way, no one ever understood what your Grandpa saw in her because he was such a sweet man.”  I had to laugh, you can’t argue with the truth.

As cantankerous and contrary as she could be, she could turn right around and be the kindest, most thoughtful person ever.  I didn’t like peanuts until a few years ago and every year when she made peanut brittle she would pour some of the candy out with no nuts, just for me.  She knew how much I loved peach cobbler with lots of crust and no peaches, just juice, she had a small pan that she would fix me cobbler in, just the way I liked it.

I’m thankful for the time I got to spend with her, for the visits to cemeteries and the hours of talking about the family.  I’m grateful that she never kept secrets about the history of our family. She told me that it was important for me to know everything about our family, even the skeletons.  She told me “secrets” that she made me swear not to reveal until everyone involved had passed, but she made sure that they were preserved and handed down so that they weren’t lost with time.

I’m thankful for the time I got to spend “Close Up”, just the two of us, talking until the wee hours of the morning, for her always having orange juice in a glass carafe in her refrigerator, for knowing what “faunching at the bit” means, for being fortunate enough to have inherited many of the treasures that were in her trunk, for her fruitcake recipe and “gut gravy” aka giblet gravy, and for the mental picture she painted of “having a runaway” when she decided to spray whiskey up her nose to cure a sinus infection.

 

#52ancestors

Whispers from the Past…..

Week 16 – 52 Ancestor Challenge – Storms

Storms take many forms, lightning, tornados, rain, snow, tragedy………..

What greater storm could a parent face, than the death of a child?

Pheobe Ophelia Grantham
21 Dec 1887 – 27 May 1892

Pheobe Ophelia Grantham, second child and oldest daughter of Rufus Marion and Mary Ann “Mollie” McReynolds Grantham, born 21 Dec 1887 in Bosque County, Texas. 

By 1891 R. M., Mollie, Thomas Jefferson, and little Pheobe had migrated to Coleman County and the Roberson Peak area where baby Ada Elizabeth was born.

In the blink of an eye, their lives were forever altered. 

 

 

 

“Our darling one has gone before, To greet us on the golden shore”

#52ancestors

Whispers from the Past…..

Week 15 – 52 Ancestor Challenge – Taxes

“‘Tis impossible to be sure of any thing but Death and Taxes,”

The Cobbler of Preston by Christopher Bullock (1716)

I’ll admit that when it comes to using tax records for genealogy research well, I never have.  I know they are there, I know they can be a great source, I forget they are there.  Maybe it’s a mental block considering what I do for  living.  In case you don’t know, I prepare income tax returns for a living.

Don’t get me wrong, when I do happen to take a look at some of these records, they’re pretty interesting –

David Blackman was assessed $2 tax on a gold watch and carriage, Georgia, 1865

Goodridge Driver, Whiskey Distiller, 15 Gallons of Whiskey valued $30.42 tax, Georgia 1866

The problem I have with taxes is that I rarely find my family in these records.  I’m assuming they paid their taxes, man I hope so, I don’t want to try to untangle a mess that old, they just don’t often appear in my searches through these records.

I’ve kept every tax return I have ever filed – including property tax records, I wonder if someday another researcher will be glad that I’ve done that or if they’ll just think I was a hoarder?

#52ancestors

Whispers from the Past…..

Week 14 – 52 Ancestor Challenge – The Maiden Aunt or Bachelor Uncle

Uncle Albert by Lu’s fig bush at Bunger, Texas

Albert Ichabod Driver, Uncle Albert, died in 1951, 11 years before I was born.  While I never knew him, I’ve heard about him all my life.

Albert was the oldest son of John and Weltha Driver, born in 1871, he was only two years old when his family left the Nacogdoches, Texas area and headed West.  In 1874, the little family settled in Parker County near the town of Weatherford, where Albert’s younger brother, Henry, was born, near Long Creek.  In 1875, the family moved again, this time to the little town of Graham, where they would spend the rest of their lives.

Etta Cunningham

As a young man, Albert was engaged to a girl named Etta Cunningham.  Albert suffered from asthma and fearing he’d be a burden to her, he eventually broke their engagement.  His brother, Henry, went with her for a while but he met Louise Smith while visiting their Mother’s family in the Coleman area and married her.

In the early 1930s, oil was discovered on the family’s land, a few miles South of Graham.  Albert’s mother, Weltha, was a frugal woman, the family had lived through lean times and she believed in patching the patches on her clothes to make them last longer.  I’ve often wondered if this was because of an incident where a cow ate her new dress on their journey West…..  Albert and his sister-in-law, Louise, would do the laundry and would “hang Weltha’s worn out dress up in the ringer” then they would pull back and forth until the dress was beyond repair.  This was force Weltha to start wearing a new dress instead of “saving it.”

Albert never married and spent a good deal of his life farming with and looking after his parents.  He cared for them until their deaths.  Anytime I’ve heard relatives speak of Uncle Albert, the fondness is apparent in their voice.  His appearance was kindly and warm.  Many times I have thought about how his life might have been different if he would have had access to the modern miracle of rescue inhalers.

#52ancestors

Whispers from the Past…..

Week 17 – 52 Ancestor Challenge – Cemetery – Heath Springs, South Carolina

I’ve always loved cemeteries.  A fun outing for me is prowling around in a graveyard, hunting dead relatives.  I’ve also always had a type of “sixth-sense” as to where to find a certain grave.  I believe they call to me, wanting to be found.

Jerrell Blackmon at the graves of his 4th Great-grandfathers, William Fleming Bailey and Thomas Cauthen

About six years ago, I discovered that my husband had Revolutionary ancestors who were buried in a quaint little village in South Carolina.  At the time of the discovery, I was able to locate the cemetery online and to find some information about the aforementioned ancestors but, there wasn’t a lot to go on.

While making our way home from a business meeting, we made a detour and visited Salem Cemetery and the graves of two of his fourth-great-grandfather’s, William Fleming Bailey and Thomas Cauthen.  Both men fought in the Revolution and are believed to have been involved at the nearby Battle of Hanging Rock.

Cauthen Brothers

A dedication ceremony had been held in May 1976 for the Revolutionary Patriots of Lancaster County and the Cauthen memorial monument was erected by the Waxhaw chapter of the DAR in honor of the Cauthen patriots, Thomas and his brothers, James and William, who died in Lancaster County.  The address for the service was delivered by the Reverend Baker James Cauthen, a direct descendant of William Cauthen.

William Fleming Bailey

Also William Fleming Bailey is honored at this same site.  Bailey, was the father of Nancy Agnes Bailey, who married George Washington Cauthen, son of the aforementioned Thomas Cauthen.

It was a memorable occasion to visit the final resting places of these Revolutionary soldiers and to commemorate the day with a photograph of my husband with his hand resting on their monuments.

 

#52ancestors

Whispers from the Past…..