On the Money Trail and its Trials

As we continue to travel onward with MDB, we encounter money problems resulting from the changes in the Southern economic climate in a healing country.

Letter and Draft

Hand-written

By Martha Dandridge Bibb

Montgomery, Ala

May, 1897

Dr. G. B. Fowler
Dear Cousin,

"I wish to ask your kind offices in regard to a matter of personal interest. For several years past my finances have been growing 'small by degrees and beautifully less' from the various causes, among them shrinkage values, stringency of these hard times, heavy taxation,  etc..."

 Sound familiar? She goes on to say--

"so I am seeking to build up my broken fortunes and knowing first of all your kind heart and enquiring mind and consequent knowledge of what is transpiring in the great world. I think you can give me some valuable information, and aid me in disposing of some relics and a few pieces of old coin. I am prompted to do this by the clippings, which I enclose. Some years previous to the War, my father came in possession of a fifty cent piece of silver with the date of his marriage, 1819, and gave it to sister Lou as a souvenir. It has on one side a head with the word “Liberty” above the date. It also is the date of Alabama’s admission into the United States. I have a gold dollar, which Dr. Rives received at Washington, Ga., after the surrender of the Confederate Army, dated 1853..."

Her list continues citing specific coins and stamps. I don’t know if she ever mailed the letter or if she simply pondered the idea. Her plight parallels present struggles in today’s fast lane. Not only the trying economic times, but her methods of attempting to “build up broken fortunes” resemble mine. Several of my family treasures have gone into an assortment of hands for various amounts to help in these troubling times. I have discovered Civil War relics maintain their lure and can be good money-makers. One day I may regret parting with James D. Porter’s spurs given to him by General Otho F. Strahl prior to the Battle of Franklin and the General's death. For now, I am grateful he got them, I got them, and someone else got them who appropriately reveres them. Letting go is part of my journey. Who knows what might be next?

Stepping on Toes

My great-great grandmother, MD Bibb, left a trail of letters. Hers by far outnumbered all the others I found in "the box". She carefully copied in duplicate her own letters and held onto them. She also kept correspondence to her family and to her. She is undoubtedly responsible for assembling the majority of documents I found together in one place. Of course, there were others after her who treasured what she had archived, and they probably added bits and pieces, too. I can't help but wonder what they all would have wanted me to do with their legacy. That now is my dilemma.

The next series of correspondence had to do with an on-going dispute with Martha Dandridge Bibb initiated by the family of Mary Phelan who served as Vice President of the Ladies’ Memorial Association under Sophie Bibb. Mrs. Phelan's children believed their mother was being shoved from a rightful place of honor in historical records. I shall mention this dispute briefly, compared to the amount I have in my book.

From Mrs. Phelan's daughter:

Phelan vs. Bibb

Montgomery, Ala.

June 24, ‘93

Mrs. M.D. Bibb.

Pres of L.M.A. (Ladies’ Memorial Association)

Montg. Ala.
"Dear Madam:

I beg your forbearance to read the enclosed letters, I am sure a perusal of them will show you the tenor of mine and my family’s feelings in the discussion between us and prove to you how deeply painful is the fact of seeming to wish to glorify our demised Mother. I have been forced to the issue by a flat contradiction several years after when I said before the Ass’n I had a right to speak to it because my Mother was one of the originators of the Ass’n. I would not have made that speech if I had foreseen the result, then to know a history had been written and her name ever being in doubt. I felt I must correct an injustice. What has subsequently occurred no one can regret as I...

I feel the name of my “dear good Mother” had been trailed in the dust by an excited scene for which I am grievously sorry. I did not wish or intend to convey an impression, I questioned your great, good Mother may have been primary in conceiving the idea of a Memorial Ass’n,..."

Mary Phelan Watt

Response by Martha Dandridge

Hand-written

Montgomery, Ala.
July 1st, 1893

"Dear Madam,

Your note and letters were not received until last night. Absence from home and business engagements must plead my apology for tardiness in acknowledging them.

I did not then make any suggestion in reference to the origin of this ‘Association’ as I did not suppose there was any difference in public opinion in regard to a fact, having the sanction of so many years, and on both occasions, I denied your assertion, simply, because it placed my mother in the unenviable position of receiving commendations for that which she did not deserve...

She was too modest, and too sincere, to have accepted the homage paid her as (your sister expressed it) “the mother of the Association”, had it not been a well known fact, but true to her noble nature would have declared, to Mrs. Judge John D. Phelan this honor is due...

Neither have I any desire to 'glorify my mother'. She only obeyed the promptings of her poise, unselfish character, and her tender sympathy for suffering humanity. She never claimed any superior merit for duty she performed, but often said that the ladies of the ‘Hospital’ and Memorial Associations deserved great praise, and that a nobler band of co-laborers never lived and without their hearty cooperation such grand results could never have been obtained..."

Believe me

Martha Dandridge Bibb

This type communication went on, and on, and on for over ten years!  The Phelans and MDB never resolved their differences but the Phelan family discredited  and assailed Martha Dandridge in a preface to one of the written histories of the Ladies' Memorial Association of Montgomery.  Martha Dandridge responded "in her manner born" by saying to S.H. Phelan--

"I have not replied to the charges made against me in your preface, because I am intensely averse to dissension and contention, and regard our sacred cause as too exalted to have its harmony broken by a discordant note. In this reply, I 'nothing extenuate or set down aught in malice'. In justice to the Memorial Association, to our faithful Secretary and to my honored mother, I must decline to accede to your request. Serious illness of five months duration will plead my apology for the tardiness of my reply."

I suppose the entire issue arose as a result of filial love, an honorable thing. I'm not sure, though. It's only my opinion, but I don't think the mothers, either Mrs. Phelan or Mrs. Bibb, would have cared at all who got credit for what. They seem to me the ones whose intentions were honorable.

A Monumental Task

The next group of letters I reference in my book had to do with the designing, building, and financing the Confederate Memorial Monument in Montgomery, Alabama, after the Civil War.The correspondence was between Martha Dandridge Bibb, Presidient of the Ladies' Memorial Association, and the company, as well as sculptor, in charge of making the monument.

CURBOW-CLAPP MARBLE CO.

Dealers in Marble & Granite Monuments

and Building Stone

Importers of Italian Monuments and Statuary

Iron Fences a Specialty

209 and 211 Dexter Avenue

Montgomery, Ala.

Dec. 3rd 1897
"Dear Mrs. Bibb,
I send you letter from Mr. F. Barnicoat, our sculptor in Quincy, Mass.-also send the photo he speaks of. I think it is a fine piece of modeling and will certainly be a grand piece of work when executed in granite.
There will be no photographs of the Infantry and Cavalry as they were accepted as shown with a few minor changes which are in our specifications with Mr. B.
You will please note what he says about the Marine statue time of shipment. I was afraid it would not be possible to ship as early as February.
If possible I would like to telegraph Mr. B tonight."
Yours very respectfully.
Oliver A. Clapp

A letter from the sculptor:

Hand-written

By Sculptor to Curbow-Clapp Marble Co.

F. BARNICOAT

GRANITE AND STATUARY

QUINCY, WESTERLY, SOUHEGAN

MILLSTONE POINT GRANITE MONUMENTS

CIRCULAR WORK A SPECIALTY

PORTRAIT FIGURES AND BUSTS

MODELING OF EVERY DESCRIPTION SOLDIERS AND IDEAL FIGURES IN GRANITE

SEND FOR DESIGN SHEETS OF GRANITE STATUARY

Quincy, Mass.
March 7, 1898
Curbow-Clapp Marble Co.
Montgomery, Ala
"Dear Sirs,
...We have commenced to cast model in plaster and shall be ready to commence work in the granite as soon as we hear from you. To model and cut this anchor will cost $100.00 extra. It means a good deal of relief work which takes time in granite."
Yours Truly,
F. Barnicoat

Oh, the problems that go hand in hand with construction! Those decisions were just  more in a string of challenges for Martha Dandridge as she marched on to complete her mother's dream. Her involvement  not only meant dealing with the sculptor, etc., but there were money problems as well.
Here's a little background:

"The men’s Historical and Monumental Association founded in 1865 had become quiescent during the dreary, difficult years of Reconstruction in Alabama. In 1885, a new organization, The Monumental and Historical Society, was formed on September 30, chaired by Montgomery Mayor Colonel Warren S. Reese. Under its auspices, Ex-President Jefferson Finis Davis, then 78, laid the cornerstone of the Confederate Monument on the north lawn of the Alabama State Capitol Building in elaborate two day ceremonies on April 29, 1886. However, the Society ran into difficulty raising the $46,000 needed to finish the job. Alabamians were still devastated and struggling...
The women stepped into the breach. The men’s Society had raised $6,755.00. Some shamed politicians raised $5,000, managed to get a legislative grant for $10,000, and then another $10,000 grant. The Ladies’ Memorial Association raised $10,000."

Nothing seemed to deter Martha Dandridge and the Ladies' Memorial Association from seeing their task completed. Martha did say in a communciation--

"…Though I am opposed to women’s rights in general yet regarding all things pure and tender as being within a woman’s presence, I am quite a lobbyist and have strong hopes of success for our Ladies’ Memorial Bill when the Legislature re-convenes in a few days..."

I dare say, she would have been a marcher for women's rights eventually.

Off the Trail

I've been known to go wandering and I don't deny the lure of a winding road. This post roams a bit, too, as I introduce Lewellyn Shaver's sister, Emma, good friend of the Bibbs in Montgomery. Emma's letters to Lou and Martha Dandridge Bibb came from her new home in Woodlawn, a suburb of  budding Birmingham. 
Excerpts from Emma Shaver's  handwritten letter dated 1892 to Louisa S. Bibb:

"Woodlawn is a very quiet place, in spite of its proximity to Birmingham. There are no mines, plants, nor any other interests here to attract the rougher elements. People who live here are generally those, whose business interests are in Birmingham and who do not feel financially able to reside in the city. The gentlemen are in Bham all day... Mrs. Cameron from Montgomery, lives not far from us. Mrs. Pearsall and her brothers run a market garden a little off in the country. They are doing nicely and Mrs. Pearsall seems busy and happy. Woodlawn is a city of about 2500 or 3000 inhabitants. The Democratic Mayor was nominated last week with every certainty of election. We live on a dummy line and can go into B. and return at any time, for .10. The distance is (six) correction four miles, and we go through another village before we reach East B(irmingham). It is a convenient place to live. All the marketing is brought right to the door, even oranges, kerosene oil, etc., and the cost is very reasonable. We live in walking distance of two churches, and the post office is not a quarter of a mile distant. You see we have a happy blending of the quiet of a country, and conveniences of a city home."

In another letter to Lou, written in 1896, Emma mentions the politics and news of the times:

"If one believed the belligerent spirit of the papers, one would dread the coming of December. Kolb certainly ought to be called Cobb for no matter how often you down him, he will not sink to the bottom, but because of sheer lightness of weight is ever bobbing up again. Local politics are running riot in Bham but very fortunately we only hear their buzz. It all disgusts me so that I scarcely care to read a paper. Oh! "the tempests that disturb the tea-pot!”

I cannot help but notice the many similarities that can be drawn over the past and present. Even the reference to "tea-pot" reminds me of the present "tea party", with its fervent and perhaps tempestuous stirrings. Ironically, the "Kolb" mentioned was a Commissioner of Agriculture, Rueben Kolb, who ran for Governor in 1892, 1894, and again, made a bid in 1896. He certainly did keep "popping up". After losing on the Democratic ticket, he branched into his own brand, Jeffersonian Democrats, who in essence aligned too closely with the Populist's views and candidates to hold any distinction on their own.

So much for my detour. Well, maybe.

A Bitter Sweet Battle

The battle I write about in this post is not specifically Martha Dandridge's although her daily battles revolved around  it.  Another letter from "the box" was from Lewellyn Shaver in 1889. Apparently, Martha Dandridge was gathering mementos for the Atlanta Exposition and she had communicated with people who had fought or served in the Civil War asking them to contribute worthy items. Mr. Shaver wrote back responding to her request.
In part from Washington:

"I have sent you by mail today my haversack and Bible, which Emma wrote me you would like to place among Confederate mementos which you prepare to exhibit at the Exposition. The Bible was handed to me by Miss Lou as I went out of the door of your residence the morning I started to join my Company in the latter part of 1862. I carried it in my haversack for convenient reference. The haversack is the only one I had during the War and accompanied me on many a weary march and throughout several bloody battles. On the morning of March 31, 1865,about nine days before the surrender, while we were charging the enemy over an open field on the “White Oake Road” to the right of Petersburg near “Hatchers Run”, a ball struck the haversack, was deflected by the Bible(which it shattered) and passed out. You see the two holes in the haversack...the one made by the ball as it entered and the other as it passed out. The Bible, doubtless, saved my life..."

Miss Lou, to whom he refers, was Martha Dandridge's sister and Emma was his sister. Mr. Shaver's story is an unusual one of salvation with the physical Bible being the protector. I'm sure he felt the intervention extended beyond the physical and it seems he would have reason to believe that. The haversack was returned to his sister after the Exposition.

The bitter or sad side of Mr. Shaver's story became apparent when he spoke in 1899 at Oakwood Cemetery on Decoration Day at the request of the Ladies' Memorial Association. He stood over the myriad of tombstones covering the hill and gave a somber talk. Included in his speech, he said these words:

"I was further constrained to accept your invitation by a desire once more to lift my voice, feeble though it be, in praise of the martyrs to a just cause, who, more fortunate than their survivors, passed from 'the perilous edge of battle' over the river and are resting peacefully under the shade of the trees on the farther shore.
I speak of them as more fortunate than their survivors. They have been spared the struggle for existence under adverse conditions, which with the Confederate soldier succeeded the struggle of war, and the pain of witnessing the misfortunes of the South consequent upon the failure of her cause. Often in the stress of life’s battle since the war, when these matters have weighed heavily upon me, my heart has seemed as full of sorrows as the sea of sands, and I have been unable to repress the unmanly regret that I did not fall at Chickamauga."

Did I say "somber"?  His words resonate the sobriety of the South and one specific veteran thirty years after the war.

On the Old Battle Field

Another series of correspondence was in "the box" I found in the closet of my home when I emptied it. Those were the letters between Martha Dandridge Bibb and Wager Swayne.

General Swayne of the Union Army arrived in Montgomery July, 1865, as an assistant commissioner of the Freedmen’s bureau. He was later appointed military Governor of Alabama during the early days of Reconstruction, serving from 1867 to 1868. During his stay, he lived at the home of Martha Dandridge Bibb and her family on Moulton Street. Swayne played a major role in establishing schools for African Americans, including high schools in Selma, Montgomery, and Mobile. He also helped organize Talladega College. He apparently revisited Montgomery thirty years after his initial stay and wrote a letter of appreciation to his hosts.

From his letter:

Swayne & Swayne

Attorneys at Law

August, 1890

120 Broadway, New York

"My dear Mrs. Bibb:
Immediately after my return from Montgomery I wanted to write and thank you for the pleasure I found in again meeting you and your sister, but found, to my surprise and regret, that you had always been so familiarly known to me as Mrs. “Dyke” Bibb, that during an interval of thirty years your proper name and faded out of mind...

I enclose herewith a photograph which you may recognize. Since the original had the pleasure of meeting you, it has occurred, as then anticipated, that McKinley has been nominated upon a gold standard basis, and I have often reflected with amused interest upon the cordiality with which you were anticipating that result. I have also been following with interest the sound money movement in Alabama, and hope it may yet be that I shall rejoice with you, not only over the election of McKinley but over Alabama’s coming into line as a good Republican State. If that occurs, the conversations we had thirty years ago will enable you to appreciate how I shall be disposed, in view of that result, if not to “depart in peace”, at least to invite you to rejoice over it with me."

An excerpt from Martha Dandridge's response:

"Your photograph is an excellent likeness and bears the impress of a happy and successful life. It has given me great pleasure, and brings back through the lapse of years the memory of so many gentle courtesies extended my dear mother and father that while I look upon it my heart is filled with grateful sorrow mingled with pleasant thoughts of your delicate efforts to cheer them in those dark days of adversity and gloomy apprehensions, indicating so fully that you were to the manner born. You may remember that I sometimes reminded you jokingly that your virtues were inherited from your good southern blood. You little knew that laughter often comes to hold in check the flow of tears. How like a dream it all seems now!..."

And later in the letter, she responds to his specific reference to McKinley and the South possibly changing its political bent:

"Surely the (passing) of time brings many changes, and I am not surprised by your amusement of my willingness to accept McKinley on the gold standard basis, instead of any representative of the face silver craze, but I beg to explain that it was only a choice of evils. I assure you I am still a democrat. The South cannot afford to be anything else until the Negro problem is solved. I hope it will be many years before you “depart in peace” or will be enabled to invite me to “rejoice with you in Alabama’s coming into line as a good Republican State”. It was indeed a pleasure to meet you again and to note how lightly time had touched you since your sojourn in the South."

For sure, the passing of time does bring many changes, but  these exchanges tell volumes about the climate of those years and maybe even, foreshadowed the future. There's much between the lines.

On other battles tomorrow.

Ma Dike Picks Her Battles

She had plenty to choose from--battles, that is. In many instances, her passion for justice and "the sweet courtesies of life" drove her pleas for help or determination toward a goal. One series of correspondence is between the Governor of Alabama and Martha D., instigated by the latter. In those, she begs for the pardon of her cousin. A segment of her initial letter on behalf of cousin J. Dubose Bibb, convicted of keeping a gambling table follows:

—

To Governor Seay of Alabama

Montgomery, Ala.

Sept. 15th, 1888

Governor Thomas Seay

"Dear Sir,
Will you allow me to make an appeal to you on behalf of my kinsman Mr. J. Dubose Bibb, recently convicted of keeping a gambling table.
I know applications of a similar nature are often made upon your decency, and I invite with some apprehension lest I lay too great a tax upon your kindness I feel assured will at least pardon me when I tell you the circumstances which impel me to crave your mercy.
Mr. Bibb was taken from the arms of a dying mother when only one day old and tenderly reared by my own mother as one of her children. He reached the years of manhood with no bad habits and probabilities of a bright future seemed to beckon him to the goal of a successful life.."

And a bit more:
"Though my parents had entreated him with tears and prayers to forsake his evil ways, they again sought him in this extremity and offered him home and sustenance so long as he refrained from gambling. He stayed with them six months and against their most earnest protestations, again he returned to his former haunts and gambled, he said for a living, as all legitimate means of earning subsistence were denied him though he had earnestly and diligently sought employment for a long while. His peculiar conduct then and since that time has been so contrary to his education and former associations that our family, as well as a number of physicians, believe that his mind is unhinged. He is also a physical wreck and being unfitted for labor of any kind would prove a burden to the State."

Then Martha pulls the trump card:
"I now bespeak your kind offices on personal consideration. You know that two of my father’s brothers held the honorable office you now fill, when Alabama was a Territory and after the organization of the State and through a long ancestral line no stain has ever dimmed the brightness of their reputation. They served this Commonwealth in peace and defended her in war and with this record of fidelity, I plea the anguish of the sorrowful old man for whom I seek your official pardon and whose chains are only more galling because his own hands have wrought them."

She knew how to pour it on, but regardless of her attempt, or words, or allegiance, it was a rather pathetic letter. It showed that some of today's heartaches are the same as those in the 1800's and that life changes, and doesn't. Her letter is much longer and details his life before gambling took hold and after. It is included, along with the Governor's and Cousin J. D. Bibb's, full-bloom in my book.The Governor was taking it under consideration, but his response didn't prove hopeful.

Dubose's response in part to Martha's and the Governor's letters:

"...My Dear Cousin, if you only knew how sad it makes me feel when I reflect about all the pleasures on my past life; for I believe no mortal ever enjoyed more. I think of my Angel wife and every thing else which could make life desirable. I say when I think of these things and my present condition in my old age, my life being at last a failure, I am simply dumb..."

A Short Passage

Martha Dandridge and her husband, Joseph Benajah Bibb, were fighters--Martha for the "Lost Cause" and her mother's dreams, Joseph for southern rights during the War Between the States. His passion for the cause will remain unknown, but his duty is documented.

"After the death of Mrs. Sophie Bibb, her youngest daughter, Mrs. Martha Dandridge Bibb, widow of Colonel Joseph B. Bibb of the 23rd Alabama Regiment C. S. A. who died from wounds received during the war, was made President of the Ladies’ Memorial Association, and through the work of the patriotic band of women, the beautiful Confederate Monument on Capital Hill was completed, unveiled, and presented to the State of Alabama on December, 7, 1898."

Joseph's father, Reverend Peyton Bibb of Augusta County, VA, was a Methodist minister and a large planter who established a steamboat line from Montgomery to Mobile. Joseph was a lawyer in Montgomery before the war, but his career ended as a result of the shot to his lung at the Battle of Franklin, Tennessee, and subsequent complications. He went back to his command in three weeks after the injury and continued to fight until the end of the war. He died soon after from tuberculosis induced by the wound and exposure.

Joseph was only forty-eight when he died. His wife 's fight continued for years to follow.

Back to the Line

Next in line, after Sophie Gilmer Bibb, is Martha Dandridge Bibb Bibb. This portrait was painted in 1856.

My Great-Great Grandmother

Martha Dandridge Bibb (Bibb)

1828 - 1910

Daughter of Lucy Ann Sophia Gilmer

and Benajah Smith Bibb

Married 1849

1st cousin Joseph Benajah Bibb

1821 – 1869

Son of Reverend Peyton Bibb and Martha Cobb (Bibb)

Children-- Dr. William George Bibb

Captain Peyton B. Bibb

Martha lived in the family home at Moulton Street for her entire life.  She and her husband raised their family there and one of their sons, William George, came back to Montgomery with his bride, set up a medical practice, and continued to live and raise his family under the same roof that had covered him as a young lad.

Sophie's daughter. Martha, known affectionately at "Ma Dike" to family and close friends, picked up where her mother left off and continued to carry the torch ignited by Sophie and the Ladies' Memorial Association. I have dozens of letters written by and to her. She obviously made duplicates of all communications relating to her obligations to carry forth and conclude the efforts of her mother on behalf of the Confederacy.

"M.D.B’s son, William George Bibb, graduated from the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa and received medical degrees from Vanderbilt University in Nashville, the University of Virginia, and three Universities in New York. He practiced medicine first in Nashville, then went home to practice in Montgomery, Alabama. In 1878, Dr. Bibb married Susanna Dunlap Porter, daughter of James Davis Porter, Governor of Tennessee."  The portrait of the child is William George Bibb, their infant son. He wears a coral sleeve bracelet that I have framed in my "curio case".

Little is recorded from Martha Dandridge’s written history about her two sons, although each of them gained prominence in their respected fields, one as doctor and the other as a Captain in the Navy.  According to records, Louisa S. Bibb known as Aunt Lou, never married but took on the responsibilities of house and parenting while her sister, Martha Dandridge, carried their mother’s torch to the finish line.
From my book:

"Ma Dike and Aunt Lou have stared at me from their gold-leafed encasements all my life, and before me, they stared at my mother. A slight smile on M.D.’s oil-painted once young face is now cracked and dried. It camouflages the true grit that drove her as well as what must have been a deeply entrenched adoration for her mother. The portraits of her, her husband, her sister Aunt Lou, and her child, William George Bibb, hang together now in my house that feels like a wrong turn on their long journey into these modern times and small spaces. The voices from the past secured their place on my mother’s walls with their “Treasure these…Forever!” proclamation that held her allegiant to a cause she never fought. "
For the time being, they are secure on my walls. I do not, however, feel I owe my soul to their immortal care.

Louisa S. Bibb, Aunt Lou. Painted 1856

Stepping Out

There's much more to say about Moulton Street and I'm undecided about which way to take her at this point in these postings. I'll say a few more things about my early impressions, then I'll leave her for now. From my book:

"I can’t imagine my life without the old house and the unforgettable early impact of its sweet sensations, for instance, the smells. The fragrances of certain things transport me to that place and time on Moulton Street. Like Nannie, my grandmother, once said, “Only age could give a house such patina”, or from my perspective, such a rich sensual palate. My love for a long hot bath must have been born there in Nannie’s old claw-foot tub with the sweet smelling pink Camay or Palmolive soaps she consistently bought at the corner A &P. Only a service station stood between her house and the grocery store and only a street stood between the store and the Paramount movie theater where I began my omnipresent love of movies. Perhaps those earliest, first sensations in every arena remain the most indelible impressions of a lifetime."

There will be more about Moulton Street. She will be mentioned again as I return to the line of ancestors I'm covering and cannot avoid telling of their alliance and interaction with the old home.

Sadly, for her and for me,  I'll opt for a description of the end of her long life.

 The Montgomery Advertiser

Monday, March 23, 1964

Business Tide Laps Around Faded Link to Bright Past

Time Closes on Historic Downtown Residence

Bereft of Magnolias, Bibb House Stoically Awaits the End

The historic Bibb home on Moulton Street, established by scions of Virginia aristocracy and once the gathering place of such Southern notables as Jefferson Davis, Alexander Stephens, and Robert Toombs, may soon be going with the wind.
Indicative of the coming change was the cutting down of the massive magnolia trees which once flanked the walk leading to the brown frame house. Hidden for decades by the dense foliage, the house is now bared, in all its stark dilapidation, to the view of passerby.
The passing will be mourned by those who cherish Southern tradition, but time and the elements have so deeply scarred the old residence that its destruction would seem inevitable.
Patch-work repairs no longer suffice and a general restoration is not feasible, either structurally or financially. Over six decades have passed since it was last painted.
Mrs. Mattie Bibb Edmondson, one of seven generations in the same family who have lived in the house, said she expects to move out in a few months. She will live with her son, George B. Edmondson, at Thorn Place."

Sweet and Savory Lady

Moulton Street --back in the limelight.
As I was writing yesterday, I realized more than ever what a stalwart the Bibb house had been for dozens of people who had known her, or lived with her, frequently visited her, or simply admired her. The following is from an article in The Birmingham News, 1935, and illustrates one reporter's appreciation for the mysterious old lady.

"…The wide walk leading up to the front portico might have accommodated a coach and six. Sweet smells, Southern smilax, a mixture of box, magnolia, wisteria, and hidden shrubs most fragrant were in the yard despite the scurrying cars and gasoline odors without the fenced area….the ornamental eaves of the spreading roof and the small, slightly ornamented columns of the veranda bespeak of the simplification of the Greek revival to the town-house type leading to the encroachments that were to follow later. The ample veranda was well-supported with the rockers of that period…"

More from The Birmingham News article on the house's interior:

"…Rather dark, and slightly chilly is the wide hall, but soon we were in the spacious parlor where with light streaming through windows unretarded, a great warmth prevailed. The parlor is the first of the suite of three rooms that sweep the length of the house, each connected with the other by double sliding doors, which when slid into the walls made of the half of the house, one room capable of accommodating hundreds on state occasions."

She went on and on in an effusive, yet affectionate manner to describe details of the house, its furnishings, its inhabitants, and decorative arts, and ended by saying--

"The Bibb Home is a veritable storehouse of discriminate collecting. It stands a symbol of the ante-bellum days, when gracious living was a traditional part of Montgomery’s everyday life. And it continues to lend its charm to the present day life of our city."

The article is included in its entirety in my book.
I know the dark hallway she described. Like I mentioned earlier, I knew that house intimately. Amongst those who revered Moulton Street manor, as I did, were those who sometimes feared her. As a child, I had my moments. From my book and recollections:

"Time and staleness had taken their toll on the outside of the Bibb home and  had permeated the walls with decay by the time I was old enough to notice or recall my grandmother's home. By the early 1950s, the antique furnishings original to the house, nursed by four or five Bibb generations, showed serious signs of malnutrition, as did the house. The floors had blackened with an oily covering that easily darkened my bare feet as I romped through the house. The exterior planks of pine grayed like their last breath had been drawn. Yet, for me, the mysterious house oozed magic, nothing less than a laboratory for my imagination. Who lived at the top of the creepy dark staircase? What secrets remained behind the locked doors up there where no one went anymore? What fate awaited if I fell off either side of the old brick path encircling the home?"

And again, my perspective on the old home:

"The ante-bellum house, draped in black like my great grandmother, stood back from the street, separated ominously by an ornate dark wrought iron fence originally conceived as decoration but now a warning to pervasive commercialism and curious passers-by to STAY OUT. The fence sent the strong and protective message to any who deemed the house either haunted, or abandoned, or both.
My earliest memories of any sort began there in the mysterious environs of Moulton Street, to this day mentioned as that scary old house downtown or as the house that never should have been torn down."

Yes. Torn down. More on being torn apart tomorrow.

A House is Not Just a Home and Vice Versa

May I introduce a fine, strong lady--117 or 111(the address and spelling of the street changed over the years) Moulton or Molton Street, Montgomery, Alabama. Built 1827 in the early days of the town by the river. I've experienced many of my predecessors only through writings, pictures, stories. Not Moulton Street. I actually and personally knew her well. We met when I was fresh into this world and she was weary from it. Yet, she spoke clearly and allowed my finest memories to form around and in her presence.

The photo shows the Bibb home in the 1912 snowstorm in Montgomery. It's hard to distinguish the house from the magnolias that dominated the landscape, but the antebellum house preferred its tucked away style, especially as she aged.

Following is an excerpt from a description written by my grandmother, Mattie Gilmer Bibb Edmondson in 1948:

"The house in its original appearance had more claim to architectural beauty than it showed after alterations in the early 1870. Showing the influence of early days, the kitchen, the servant quarters, town smoke house, stable, etc., were of handmade brick, whereas the house itself is of fine timber still held together with some of the original wooden pegs. The flower garden was laid out in a pattern much like the premises at Mt. Vernon with intricate beds bordered by clipped box hedges and flower plantings typical of this section and climate. Some of the shrubbery still stands. The large vegetable garden in the rear was also formally planned, with grape arbor covering the central walk and butter bean arbor to the side. Every vegetable possible was grown, including water cress and mint for the juleps."

Moulton Street is as essential in this pilgrimage through the ages as any other character. Her walls held the family together for generations. She betrayed no one and cradled many.  I'll have more on her in another post since she may be the central character in the book. How I loved the magic she wore regally and as sensually as her banana shrubs and magnolias.

Tributes and Treasures

Picking up with Sophie Bibb, woman with a cause, a purpose, and a tender heart. Again, quoting from my book:

"When Sophie Gilmer Bibb died January 9, 1887, three years after the death of her husband, Judge Bibb, she was honored in death with a public demonstration unparalleled in the history of the State. The City and Supreme Courts were suspended during her funeral, which the Veterans and State officials attended in a body, and it was stated that such impressive honors were never paid in Alabama to any other woman.”

Sophie and her husband are buried in Montgomery at the old Oakwood Cemetery in the same plot as Elizabeth Lewis Gilmer. That cemetery is a trip unto itself. It is divided into the very old and the more recent. An example of the more recent is the grave of Hank Williams--guitar, boots, etc. all on his tombstone statuary.  Sorry, no picture of Hank.

Again, here's more on Sophie and the way she was remembered. This excerpt from my book is a quote from a piece written in the 1960s.  The Sophie Bibb Chapter is no longer in existence, but the UDC still convenes at the old cemetery on Confederate Memorial Day. Her home did remain on Moulton Street where my grandmother resided as the last descendant of Sophie until the late 1960s when the house was demolished  It may no longer exists physically, but  in my memory it stands and I imagine  it will remain steadfast until my memory eludes me.

"The largest chapter of United Daughters of the Confederacy in Alabama bears the name of Sophie Bibb a fitting tribute to one whose heart was bound up in the Lost Cause. The old home of Sophie Bibb still stands at 111 Moulton Street, Montgomery, Alabama, this being the dwelling where she spent most of her life, and it is still occupied by her descendants."

One more quick thing I should mention--the treasure, or the "holy grail" of our family's possessions. Through the years, the family has carefully guarded the goblet from which Jefferson Davis drank when he paid his last respects to Sophie. It is still in the family at my house with a newspaper clipping and a handwritten description of the event. I'm sure it hasn't been polished since the day JD drank from it. His DNA may be on it for all I know. It sits in an antique case I called the "curio case" and I wonder what to do with this sacred object. I must admit, I think it should be passed on to a museum and I'm considering such a transition as a likely one.

Sophie was a good woman and she had good women around her. The next post will bring them, or at least one of them, into light.

These are portraits of Benajah and Sophie Bibb in the Alabama Department of Archives and History Building in Montgomery with their descendant, me.

Stepping Stones

After the Civil War, (not at all civil in reality) Sophie and a valiant band of women worked tirelessly to honor the soldiers, both Confederate and Union, in various ways. Here are the most prominent memorials credited to her efforts. From my book:

"After the close of the War between the States,  Mrs. Bibb and her associates organized the “Society for the Burial of the Dead”, which in turn became the Ladies’ Memorial Association, of which she was unanimously made President and held the office for twenty-one years, until the close of her life. This Association, under her management, erected headstones and a monument over the eight hundred Confederate soldiers buried in Oakwood Cemetery, besides liberally assisting in the proper interment of soldiers on distant battlefields and in bringing the remains of others to Montgomery."

 The second accomplishment:

"Eventually, Sophie Bibb made the first donation toward a fund for the erection of a monument on Capital Hill “To the Soldiers and Sailors of Alabama.” While her cherished hope that she would live to see the work completed was not fulfilled, the cornerstone was laid before she died by President Davis, who came in 1886 from his retirement at Beauvoir at the request of the Ladies’ Memorial Association to take part in the ceremony. She was too ill to attend, but her heart was made glad by a visit from her old friend and honored President. The scene was most touching. Realizing that it was their last meeting on earth, President Davis silently pressed his lips to her brow as they parted."

As distant as that scene may seem, my grandmother frequently brought it to life for me as she recounted that day. She was very young when Jefferson Davis came to call, and whether she actually recalled the day or her mother reminded her enough to imprint the event in perpetuity, she told me about it as if it just happened and with exact details.

Once I asked in naivety, youth, and from lack of listening, "Nanny, didn't Abraham Lincoln come to call on you once?"   She managed to live past the shock of that one.  I didn't realize what a blaspheme that was in her ears, but I learned quickly and didn't make that mistake again.

More on the day JD came to call and Sophie's demise in the next post.

On the Trail Again with Sophie

Thinking that I moved Sophie ahead too quickly, I'll backtrack a little and cover her husband.  He deserves an intro. In his handwritten words from a paper in my collection:

"My father, William Bibb, married Sallie Wyatt, his second wife, in 1779 and resided in Prince Edward Co. Va. a number of years and removed to Ga. about 1790. They left the following named children to-wit:
William Wyatt Bibb, who represented the State of Ga. in both Houses of Congress from 1800 to 1817. After the organization of the State government in 1819, he was appointed Gov. of the Territory of Ala. by Pres. Monroe in 1817. After the organization of the State government in 1819, he was elected Gov. of the State. He died before the expiration of the term and was succeeded by his brother, Thomas, who was at that time Pres. Of the State Senate. My remaining brothers are Peyton, John Dandridge, Joseph Wyatt, and myself, Benajah S. Bibb, born in Elbert Co. Ga. on the 3rd of Sept., 1796. Their daughters, Dorethea and Martha. Their descendents are living in Ala., Ga., Tenn., Arkansas, Miss., and N. Y. I am 83 years of age."

From my book on the Bibb's role in Montgomery:

"In the early days of Montgomery, the pleasant duty of entertaining most distinguished visitors devolved on Judge and Mrs. Bibb, among whom were Henry Clay, President Millard Fillmore, Secretary John P. Kennedy, Thomas R. R. Cobb, Robert Toombs, William Lowndes Yancey, Judah P. Benjamin, Alexander H. Stephens, and Jefferson Davis, and many others, including Rev. A. A. Lipscomb and other eminent divines. One significant fact was that Judge and Mrs. Bibb were prevailed upon by Montgomery citizens to house General Swayne,  in charge of Federal affairs, immediately after the war so that he might have a real understanding of conditions in this section of the country. A lasting friendship was established and General Swayne did all in his power to ameliorate the condition of our people during the frightful days of Reconstruction."

Among the most interesting documents I found in "the box" were letters between General Swayne and Sophie's daughter, Martha Dandridge Bibb. They were written thirty years after the war when Swayne revisited the Bibbs and wrote to thank them for their friendship and hospitality through the years. I'll quote those in part in a future post. Back to Sophie.

Sophie Bibb was a devoted wife as well as mother to the five children born to her who reached maturity. However, it was not as the wise wife, mother, friend and altruist that Sophie was best known to the world. Her love of the Confederacy and its soldiers was so outstanding that it dwarfed her other activities in the public mind, and she became known to the Confederate soldiers as “Aunt Sophie”.

More on Sophie and her relationship with Jefferson Davis and the Ladies' Memorial Association tomorrow.

Sophie's Trail

I guess the most famous of all the characters along this hike is "Aunt Sophie"--

My great-great-great grandmother

 Lucy Ann Sophia Gilmer (Bibb)
or
Sophie Lucy Ann Gilmer Bibb (as she later referred to herself)
Daughter of Thomas Meriwether Gilmer and Elizabeth Lewis Gilmer
Married 1819
Judge Benajah Smith Bibb
<1796 – 1884>
Son of Captain William Bibb and Sally Wyatt (Bibb)

From my book and my archives:
"In 1819,  Lucy Ann Sophia Gilmer was married to Benajah Smith Bibb, youngest of the six distinguished sons of William Bibb, Gentleman, member of the House of Burgesses and Captain of Cavalry in the Revolutionary Army, and his wife, Sally Wyatt, both of Virginia, and later, of Georgia. Sally Wyatt was the great-great-great granddaughter of the Reverend Haute Wyatt, youngest brother of Sir Francis Wyatt, Colonial Governor of Virginia.

Soon after the marriage of Sophia Gilmer and Benajah Bibb, they moved to Alabama, settling in Montgomery County, where their ability and benevolence placed an indelible stamp upon the State and their community. Judge Benajah S. Bibb was an able and distinguished jurist, and had the distinction of being the first official removed from office by the Federal Government after the War Between the States, because of his devotion to the Confederacy."
The house in the photo is the one built by Sophie and Benajah in 1827 at 117 Moulton Street.  It has a story of its own and I'll tell it, partially as we move along.

Sophie gained her prominence during the Civil War in her efforts to aid in the care of wounded soldiers. This is also from my collection of writings on her:

"In 1861, after the quarters provided by a noble Montgomeryan would no longer house the ever-increasing number of sick and wounded soldiers being ministered to by Montgomery women, an organization known as the “Woman’s Hospital Association” was formed with Mrs. Sophie Gilmer Bibb as its President, and the building at the corner of Bibb and Commerce streets was rented as the quarters for what was known during the rest of the War as the Ladies’ Hospital, which won the commendation from President Jefferson Davis as being “the best ordered hospital in the Confederacy.” Here “Aunt Sophie” and her associates continued their labors throughout the duration of the war, ministering to the sick with their own hands, and Mrs. Bibb’s carriage attended, with herself or some of her associates, the burial of eight hundred soldiers who died in Montgomery, besides those who were brought to Montgomery later for interment. When a soldier-patient in the hospital reached the convalescent stage, he was removed to the home of one of the noble band of women and cared for tenderly. Sophie Bibb’s home always held several convalescents who were waited on by her personal servants under her supervision. One interesting and significant fact in connection with the “Ladies’ Hospital” is that the negro attendants who were employed there remained until it was closed, tho toward the last of the war the wages of these faithful people could not be paid."

There's Aunt Sophie, for a starter. I have more to say about her before I leave her, but that will have to wait. More to come on her life and legacy.

Giant Steps

A brief summary here might be helpful to bridge the mighty gaps between the generations thus covered. I realize I've run, rather than eased along the trails of the ancestors mentioned. Let me draw a quick path with words of the guys I'm linking in this chronicle.
First, in the early 1700s, there were Margaret Lynn and John Lewis in Staunton, Va. Then, along came Thomas Lewis, their son, who married Jane Strother. They produced, for one, Elizabeth Lewis who married Thomas Meriwether Gilmer, of Goosepond, GA.  A lot of territory grew between the lines of those characters, but I must move along.
George Rockingham Gilmer's book is a fascinating read if you like history. There are a few of his original books available for a hefty sum, but you have to search for them with collectors. I have a copy of the reprint, although I'm sure among the vast library we dispersed after selling the old family home there must have been an original. I do have a segment from the original book. It's a large print of five sketches of the families he mentioned in the first book. Just as an aside, George Rockingham Gilmer was the Governor of Georgia for two terms and he established the first white settlement in Atlanta when it was still Indian Territory.

His mother, Elizabeth Lewis Gilmer, has been at the center of the last few posts, but this is where I'll end her story. In the front of her bible, she recorded dates of births, deaths, marriages, with names, relationships, offspring. It is an incredible piece of history in itself, and while the cover of the book is in remarkable shape, the pages with writing are crumbling.

When Elizabeth became ill, she moved from Goosepond to Montgomery to the home of her daughter, Sophie Gilmer Bibb, and died at the Moulton Street home of her daughter and husband, Benajah S. Bibb. She is buried at the old Oakwood Cemetery in Montgomery.

From The Southern Times 1855:
"Not only was she full of years, but she was full of honors:--not such indeed, as ambition covets and fame bestows, but those other and better honors, which faith and virtue win on their ascending path to heaven. The three generations that were represented around her death-bed and her grave, bore within their hearts, a tribute to her excellence, that no worldly homage could approach. Amid their tears, she was committed to the tomb; and who that saw her sink into its embrace but felt, that the sod never rested more lightly on the bosom of departed worth or the shadows of the evening pointed toward a rising day of brighter glory!"

Her daughter, Sophie, leads the journey onward in the next post.

A Slice of Life in Goosepond

Back to the Gilmers, specifically, Thomas and Elizabeth. The two were nineteen and seventeen, respectively, when they married.  This article, from the same 1964 Atlanta magazine I mentioned yesterday, shows more views of the house where Thomas and Elizabeth birthed most of their twelve children. The youngest of their offspring was my great X three grandmother, Lucy Ann Sophia Gilmer (Bibb).

Through the years, long after the Gilmers moved or died, the house was inhabited by faithful protectors of the property. Beside the house were four graves--three children and Thomas Gilmer.

Again according to "Gilmer's Georgians":
"Thomas Gilmer provided liberally for his children, when they married, and at his death, left an estate of seventy thousand dollars to be distributed among them. His corpulence became so inconvenient to him from home that he ceased to hold office (member of Legislature). The habits of industry and efficiency, which he formed in his children, have been shown in their success. The estates which they have accumulated are equal together at this time, to a million of dollars. They are all planters, except one. The Lawyer and Politician is the poorest of them all…
Thomas Gilmer was drunk once, when he was a child: never afterwards. He was a member of the Methodist Church when he died."

And about his own mother, George R. Gilmer wrote:
"Elizabeth Lewis Gilmer, the wife of Thomas Meriwether Gilmer, … has now passed beyond eighty-six years, and been a widow more than thirty. Her ceaseless industry, and untiring care, has aided to make her children rich. She still enjoys the good things of life, with a pleasant relish. She has endured the evils, with unfailing patience. Malice and envy seem never to have found a resting place with her for a moment. Cheerfulness constantly shines in her face, and is heard in her voice. Her spirit never reproaches.—Necessity alone limits the extent of her kindness. Charity covers the faults of others from her sight; whilst gratitude is ever filling her heart for the forgiveness of her own."

 These women I've mentioned thus far in my posts are pretty remarkable stock. There's more in my book that testifies to their courage and stamina. It was at this point,  the "Elizabeth" segment in my chronicle, that I noticed the pattern of strong women who outlived the men and yet  managed to bear and raise enough children to fill a classroom. According to the records I have, they handled the money, made furniture, tended the children, cooked, and smiled.   I agree. It's unbelievable. But  an effusive description by a son about his mother makes me think Elizabeth Lewis Gilmer was one stalwart of a human being.  And she lived to be past 86!!!

The Passageway

The early passageways of our ancestors were paved with equal hardship and determination.  Again, I see the parallel between little Elizabeth Grace, the newest family member in the long line. Seems her nasal passages are a bit tight for the normal air flow, but she's working hard to get what she needs. Her great X 6 grandmother shared her tenacity as a fighter and her nature as a gentle spirit.

Introducing Elizabeth Lewis, born in 1765, my great X 4 grandmother, daughter of Thomas and Jane Lewis. She entered the world in Virginia  and later married Thomas Meriwether Gilmer, son of Peachy Ridgway Gilmer and Mary Meriwether Gilmer.This may get confusing, all this "son of" and "daughter of" business, but it sort of keeps the line straight, in a roundabout way.  Thomas brings in the Meriwether name through his mother who was the sister of Lucy Meriwether Lewis, mother of Meriwether Lewis. I'll leave the Meriwethers for another book or time and I'll focus on the Gilmers. 

Here are a few tidbits about them. Much of my information came from Thomas and Elizabeth Lewis Gilmer's son, George Rockingham Gilmer and his book, Gilmer's Georgians, or Sketches of some of the first settlers of upper Georgia, of the Cherokees, and the author.  He wrote about his great grandfather and was generous in his kind and factual approach. Dr. George Gilmer moved from Scotland to London to Williamsburg in 1731. He was the town's "physic" or doctor or apothocary until his death in 1757. The book is very descriptive about Peachy Ridgway, Dr. Gilmer's son, when it says in part that he was " blunt-spoken, open-hearted, and unthrifty. He cared not a straw for learning when young, and not much for books when he was old."  Apparently his son, Thomas, was rather obese at age 16 weighing 200 pounds. He supposedly floated home in summer from his school two miles up the Shenandoah River.

The old house in this post was built by Thomas Meriwether Lewis and Elizabeth. It was still standing in Goosepond in 1964 when this photo was taken and appeared in The Atlanta Journal and Constitution. It has since been moved to Callaway Plantation near Washington, Georgia.

More on the Gilmer clan in the next post. For now, all Elizabeths are ready for a rest.

Slow Steps

How to manage this blog with the reality of life, and, like I mentioned earlier, its inevitable contingencies, is a bit of a problem.   Grace, the newest member of the cast, had some trouble breathing in this new air and has needed extra attention to insure her ease of being. Yes. Like the ancestors of old in their transitional period, Grace is in transition from the safe haven to the new world. That has taken priority over the old folks and the story's progression. My tale of old is the story of life and its struggles and Grace is an example of the contiguous nature of all things. Her birth has connected me with the next member of the cast in more ways than one. While my daughter has just given birth to her second and probably, last child, my great X 5 grandmother, Jane Strother Lewis,  produced THIRTEEN children! I think that was the norm back then. But talk about another dose of needing Grace!

Jane Strother Lewis was the daughter of William Strother and Margaret Watts Strother and wife of Margaret Lynne's son, Thomas Lewis. The Strothers emigrated from England to Virginia in the early days of the settlement.  Only the writing of another ancestor, George Rockingham Gilmer,  gives me any information about Jane. Remember, I am only using my personal archives to chronicle this passage. George wrote a  book entitled, "Gilmer's Georgians", for short, that included character sketches of many of the early inhabitants along the French Broad River in Georgia.   His honest, colorful portrayals caused an uproar among many who  requested a burning of all the available copies. To appease them, he edited the book with a much kinder glance into the early settlers' lives. He included the Strothers in his biographies.

Jane and Thomas Lewis were an easy alliance and obviously a productive couple. He was said to be studious and his tastes literary.  I wish I had more adjectives for Jane, but GRG didn't include details about her. I would guess "tired" to be one. Thomas and Jane eventually migrated down the Broad River to Goosepond, Georgia, then Wilkes County, to raise their family.  They pioneered the settlement along with the Meriwethers, Gilmers, Mathews, Taliaferros, Grattans, all families of famed repute in the early days of America and the stars of George R. Gilmer's book. One of Thomas' and Jane's children was Elizabeth Lewis (Gilmer), my great X 4 grandmother. She may take the lead in the next post.

More when there's a moment without a three year old calling '1-2-3 ready or not".  Imagine that call times thirteen. I might have sought a really good hiding spot.

Grace

Life certainly has its contingencies. Yesterday I said I'd introduce a new member of the cast. The plan has changed. Although there is an introduction, it's not the one I had intended. Unexpectedly, well, expected for sure but not today, a new baby was born in our family. My daughter, Meriwether and husband Michael had an early, but safe delivery of their little girl,  Elizabeth Grace. She came on the day most Alabamian's call Alabama's National Championship day. I'll buy that, but with an additional connotation to that proclaimed by the thousands of fans. I call it a day of a champion alright. I'll remember January 7, 2010 as the day a brave little girl  entered this world.  I'm pleased to introduce Grace to this blog.  I'm sure it needed a dose.

Traveling On

Having spent the last few days on the first in a series of ancestral travelers along this dusty trail, I am moving on. Leaving Margaret Lynn and John Lewis isn't easy. I find their story captivating. Speaking of "captivating", the dire circumstance I mentioned yesterday had to do with a kidnapping that left the family temporarily bereft of hope.  More on that and on their life in general appears in my Southern Bypass book.  My information came solely from the copy of Margaret's journal I found in "the box" mentioned at the onset of this blog. My research to find the original manuscript led to a dead end, but the contents of her diary that relate to early Staunton and to the Lewis family are well-documented.

To complete my coverage of this early tale, I'll use Margaret Lynns' summation of her children as adults. She wrote that Charles, the youngest son, died in battle at Point Pleasant, and William was confined by sickness, but had thirteen sickness. Apparently his sickness came late in life. At the end of her journal she wrote:

"...I feel like a traveler whose way was laid by a devious and uphill road, now in some sweet peaceful day, turns to survey the way he has come... Dear Andrew, who is known as General Lewis, still follows the fortunes of his great chief, Washington...Thomas is in the honorable House of Burgessess."

The fate of dear Alice is somewhat a mystery, but the journal says she married and every now and then, with a far away look, retold the story of her days as White Dove.

The photo is of the clip made from the knee-buckles worn by Andrew Lewis when he served under General George Washington.  The description was written by my grandmother. The initials on the clip are EG, Elizabeth Lewis Gilmer, the granddaughter of Margaret Lynn and John Lewis.

Adieu for now to my great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, Margaret Lynn Lewis. She died in 1773, eleven years after her husband's death in 1762.
Tomorrow, a new member of the cast will be introduced.

Following in a Mother's Footsteps

Continued..

Yesterday, I left Margaret Lynn wondering about the fate of her young daughter, Alice, affectionately named White Dove by her Indian admirer. Margaret, lamenting the fact that youth is often taken by romance, was reminded of her own youthful love quest when she wrote:

"...Then I set me thinking.  The child is fourteen in May and that's just two years younger than I was when I became a married woman. The reflection gave me pain, but I will think of it no more. There is nothing gained by shunning the fixed truth, whatever it may be... It's like going up to a white object in the haunting dark, taking hold of it and proving it to be no ghost..."

Isn't she marvelous?!  I think she is. I like her approach to an uncomfortable situation. She looked at her early marriage at age sixteen and dismissed the possible reflection or implication of the past bearing an impression on her daughter's fate. Certainly seeing Alice's innocence at fourteen made the thought unbearable, but the added stress of any romantic entanglement with the new strange neighbors gave rise to Margaret's degree of "pain".

Unfortunately, the matter did not pass. Omayah's father paid a visit to the Lewis home to speak to John Lewis about the love abloom within his son's heart. Margaret wrote this:

"...The father of Omayah has sought the father of White Dove, as he calls our sweet Alice, for his son's wife. He says that the Tiger King's oldest son pines to hear her voice cooing among the wild pines about his cabin. It made me tremble to hear him speak, almost as though I thought John Lewis could be persuaded thereto and give away my tenderly reared lamb. He wished to treat it as a joke though, and seated Alice at the spinnette whereon I had taught her to play with some skill. "'That"'said he, '"is all white women are good for!...You don't want them!"'...
'"Fingers jump quick'", said Tiger King. '"gut fish"'...My husband still joked with him, which was perhaps the better policy, but Oroonah retired discomfited I could see..."

Apparently the joking ploy didn't bode well with Margaret although she saw her husband's wit as a reasonable attempt at dissuading the alliance of his daughter with Tiger King's son. But the father of the love-smitten young Indian was not set back a bit by the jovial nature of their visit. Unfortunately, the relatively lighthearted situation turned rapidly into one with serious consequences.

More tomorrow.

Family Tree

It seems appropriate and helpful to include a tree of some kind outlining where this pilgrimage is headed.  Ergo, here it is.  The red and blue entries veer from the maternal line to give both parental links because in my book I include something about them along with all the families listed in black print. In a future post, I'll include a more precise family picture of the Porter, Kennedy, Dunlap line. Governor James D. Porter left many letters, etc. and much has been archived with Tennessee's Department of Archives and History. The letters  I have, and  the documents  by one prominent historian and another by a poet and feminist of the day have never been published or seen as far as I know.

Doth a Home Maketh a Soul?

Continued..
While I agree with my great X 6 grandmother on many things, I'm not sure about her take on what made a more effective home or particularly, soul, especially in  the retrospect that we all know to be the best view of all. Perhaps when I was as young as Margaret when she wrote this next entry, and I was making a comfortable nest for my family, I  might have aligned with her philosophy of home and soul.  Thinking back, yes. It was important to have comfort then. And "ornamentation" of sorts.   But these days, I'm more inclined to look for ways to dismantle and disseminate ornamentation. The part about the soul's development being tied to beauty of home? Think I'll leave that leaf unturned for now or I'll write about it in my own personal journal. Margaret, keeper of the written word and home, had this to say about that:

"…When our stone dwelling is done I shall feel something like ornamentation, it may be, for my children’s sake, and especially I shall like to make things enticing. I think people get beauty of soul with growing up among pretty things, particularly girls, but all, indeed, should have their homes beautified so that they may love to stay in them, as the case may be… The holy Pascal said not much of any more than these words: "“Most of the evil of this world grows out of the people’s discontent to stay home.”" This is true."

Well, I think she and Pascal made a good point about straying from home being a possible cause of problems. Perhaps in her time some elemental social stratagem weren't that different from our modern ways. Obviously, there are more factors feeding our discontent with home. Right?
Margaret's philosophic bent continues to endear her to me.

In her journal, she wrote that Staunton continued its steady progression under the enterprising leadership of her husband, John. And she wrote about their newly acquired not-so-friendly neighbors. Her worries went far beyond having "savages" around them to a much more personal and specific one. Margaret wrote:

"…Oroonah, or Tiger King’s son, a lad of sixteen, has crowned Alice with a prairie rose wreath. “Queen of White Doves” he calls her, and has given her a fawn which has become domestic now. I did not like to hear Thomas say last night, (he is older than Omayah)---"“Suppose Sister Alice should grow up and marry Omayah.”" Youth is romantic and thinks strange thoughts. I hope she may have none such."

Are there yet more similarities between times past and present?  And how were Alice and her mother linked in a possible youthful love interest?
More on Margaret and Queen of White Doves in my next post.

Miles and Miles

Continued...
Margaret Lynn Lewis, her husband, John, three sons--William, Thomas, Andrew-- and daughter, Alice (or Margaret Lynn) traveled the seas to land in their new home in Virginia. Margaret briefly described her Scotish born offspring in her journal as she lamented the loss of her heathered homeland, but was soothed somewhat as she wrote:

"...for the blue heather, the eyes of my two boys, Andrew and William, and their sister, Alice, glad me more than acres of such. Poor Thomas, my eldest born, he hath a defect in his sight, but for all this, he looks into his mother’s heart deep down enough, leaving there--which is better than shade of blue heather-- sunshine. He is a noble lad."

And "poor Thomas", the one with defective eyesight, is my ancestor. More on that in the future.

Here is a brief excerpt from Margaret's journal on the new land:

"...The new settlement begins to look quite lively now, with the gardens around the cabins, the patches of grain and all. About thirty of our tenantry have clung to us, through evil and good report, and they are for the most part hale and efficient work-people..."

Ah, she must have felt some feeling of home as the gardens and family grew and her home took root. Margaret's words:

"…The broad prairie before our door at the front looks like miles and miles of gaudy carpeting, with its verdure and flowers. Our cow, Snow Drop, as the children call her, is fastened every day on the meadow border, by a tether many a fathom long. They drive her in when required for the use of little Charles, our new-world baby, and her white feet are continually dyed with the wild strawberries."

She paints a lovely portrait of a simple life with Snow Drop and her strawberry colored feet leaving imprints on the miles of "gaudy carpeting" surrounding them. I'll close for today with that impression and hope it taps me again as I wander through this cold, yet well-heated 3rd day of 2010.

On New Soil

Yesterday, I introduced the earliest traveler on the dusty road- Margaret Lynn Lewis, Scottish wife of John Lewis who "slew the Irish Lord, settled Staunton, VA.,"and yadayada...read yesterday's post. These two and their covey of children apparently fled Loch Lynn and "its crown rocked summits and purple heather" after Margaret's castle burned and John became a fugitive. Margaret says it better. In her words:

"Bidding farewell to the bonny Loch and knows of Lynn, though along with the gallant Huguenot I had taken for my husband, caused surely a woman’s grief to my heart, nay something like a child’s I might say. It was not for the band of retainers, the powerful clans and castle splendors I had grown up withal surrounded, but I almost cried aloud for my mother, for good Dame Darley, our blessed English tutoress, and for Old Elliot, my nurse. I thought the first night I came to my husband’s mother’s, and was set up as a lady, to receive Court, I should blubber like a great child. This with remembrance, that at that very time, my mother was taking her cup of comfort, as she called her tea, ---that the children were with her in their place, and that my chair, the one that was my sainted father’s, stood empty. I stood as long as endurance was good, then stole away to a more retired apartment. Then they sought me, and after a time found me sleeping in a great chair, like an overgrown baby. I did not like to give cause of offense, but I thought then as I have often since, of the significance of the Blessed Apostles sleeping for sorrow and heaviness of heart, as the Master’s time drew nigh."

Alas, Margaret Lynn and her gallant Huguenot set sail for the new country, Margaret with heavy heart and her journal as her most intimate companion, the only one with whom she could share her most sacred joys and grief. Here's her comment about her trusted keeper of truth:

"The commonplace book of me, Margaret Lynn Lewis, Nee Lynn, of Lock Lynn, Scotland, being a rest for my soul’s repose in the troublous times which hath befallen. Here nothing burdening myself with style ornate, I can retreat when toil and tumult of the day are past---Speaking as into a faithful ear, some of my woman’s sorrow. So shall I not add to their weight who have, heaven knows, enough of woe to bear for themselves."

Tomorrow, more on the early days of Margaret, her five or seven(records vary on the exact number) children and their new neighbors, Ungeewah-wah and his tribe.

Speaking of Early Routes

Here we go in 2010- a road yet to be traveled except for these early minutes of the new year. So far, so good.

Back to my book and the past. My people and I get to be the voices in my chronicle of times and lives, and at times, they (my people) may rue the day I became one of theirs, wishing I had kept my mouth shut and their lives, too. On the other hand, some could possibly feel exonerated through my revelations.

Their letters, books, and logs of all sorts of trivia and trials, victories and heart-wrenching defeats, might make one wonder if saving penned testimonies serves a good or regretful purpose. I'm certainly wondering about all the journals I've kept through the years. No decision yet on that one.

The truth'll set you free, so they say. I toast freedom on the cusp of a New Year and tomorrow, Margaret Lynn Lewis, my great times six grandmother, takes the lead in my cast of travelers as she reveals her truth from her journal circa 1700's. Here's what was etched on her husband, John Lewis', tomb in Staunton, Virginia:

“In 1732, John Lewis with his family, found a home in the then wilds of the Shenandoah Valley, where he resided for thirty years, then died, and found a grave where he had found a home. His tomb, two miles East of Staunton, is on a hill overlooking the Valley of Lewis River, and about three hundred yards from Fort Lewis, reared by himself, a portion of which structure still stands. His grave is marked by a marble slab, six feet in height, and three inches in thickness, on which is the following inscription:

‘Here lie the remains of
John Lewis,
Who slew the Irish Lord, settled Augusta County,
Located the town of Staunton
And furnished five sons to fight the battles of
The American Revolution,-
He was the son of Andrew Lewis, Esq., and Mary Calhoun,
And was born in Donegal County, Ireland, 1678
And died in Virginia Feb. 1st, 1762
He was a brave man, a true patriot, and a firm friend
Of liberty throughout the world.’ ”

More on "Liberty" and such in the next posting when John's wife speaks.
Happy New Year!