Here is the remainder of a now-deleted Brodnax post. It has information about the authoritative compiled history of the family and a bit about my own Brodnaxes. It also has an irrelevant and irreverent meme I cannot resist sharing, as well as a preview of upcoming posts.
The definitive Brodnax book and where to find it.
Mildred Seab Ezell wrote the authoritative compiled genealogy on this family. It is titled Brodnax: The Beginning and is available at the libraries listed here. An Addendum was published in 2005. So far as I have found, the only place to purchase The Beginning and the Addendum is on Ebay.
Fortunately, LDS has digitized The Beginning and it is available online here. You can only access the book if you have an account with FamilySearch.org and you are logged in when you click on that link. Accounts are free, and you can create one here. FYI, a FamilySearch account is far and away the best bargain in genealogy for family history researchers. The website has images of millions of original county and other records, including deeds, probate and tax records – if the LDS has filmed it, you can probably find it at Familysearch.org. Some of the records can be viewed only at an LDS “Family History” center, but many are available online from your own kitchen table.
My own Brodnaxes
My father’s mother was née Brodnax: Emma Leona Brodnax (“Ma”) Rankin. She lived and died in small town north Louisiana from 1878 – 1968, and she was a card-carrying, equal-opportunity bigot. Sadly, that particular insanity was almost certainly the norm in the Caucasian population when and where she lived. On the positive side, she was evidently much admired by her Eastern Star sisterhood. She raised my father, as kind and decent a person as I’ve ever known.
Ma Rankin may have smiled once or twice in her life, although none of her grandchildren mentioned ever having seen that happen when we got together at the first Rankin cousins’ reunion in 1995. The adjective of choice for Ma was “strict.”
The Rankin cousins were late getting together as adults. I am the youngest of the six first cousins, and I was just shy of fifty in 1995. Butch, the host, had to ask a P.I. friend to find me. I had last seen a Rankin cousin at my father’s funeral in 1979.
There was a good historical reason for this. Family occasions at Ma Rankin’s absurdly overheated house in Gibsland, Bienville Parish, Louisiana were torture for attendees of all ages. “Conversation” consisted mostly of long silences, punctuated by desultory remarks about the state of someone’s health. I first heard the term “gall bladder” in Ma Rankin’s living room. I gathered it was an unnecessary anatomical feature, since someone was always having one removed.
Occasionally, someone attempted to break the silence. Uncle Louie once made a feint at lively repartee during a Thanksgiving get-together in 1957. He said something about Sputnik, the satellite Russia had launched the previous month. Ma Rankin stopped that conversation dead in its tracks, a bullet through its heart, like so: “If God had meant for man to be on the moon, he would’ve put him there.” The grandkids bolted outdoors, where the temperature was cold enough to see your breath and was a welcome relief. I was 11, and my cousins were ages 16-19. I think we had a pecan-throwing war, although that may just be me romanticizing my Rankin cousins, whom I like.
Ma did not have an easy adult life, having married a penniless Rankin. At that first reunion, I asked Butch what our grandfather did for a living. “Anything he could, hon … anything he could.” Butch hit the nail on the head. Once I discovered census and other records, I learned that our grandfather worked at various times as a driver of a dray wagon, restaurant waiter, and parish sheriff, all while raising four kids and living in a rented house. There was a dusty old popcorn wagon under the Rankin pier-and-beam house in Gibsland, which was built on a fairly steep slope from front to rear. The rear of the house had sufficient headroom underneath for an adult to stand up, and that is where the popcorn wagon rusted away. As a child, I thought my grandfather’s profession was selling popcorn. It seems he did that, too. Ma Rankin took in mending to supplement his earnings.
Fate intervened to improve family finances. Ma’s brother, Joe Brodnax, died and left part of his estate to her. Great-Uncle Joe owned mineral rights in considerable land sitting atop a prolific gas field in north Louisiana. Ma Rankin’s inheritance allowed the family to buy a home and send three of their four children to college. After that, according to my father (the youngest), “the money ran out.” Joe’s bequests also allowed another Brodnax sister, Great-Aunt Effie, to remain unmarried and live in Washington D.C., where she single-handedly raised an orphaned niece. Effie always had a smile and a big, welcoming embrace for her great-nephews and nieces, who were concerned only that we might suffocate in her ample buxom. I think (but am not positive) this is Effie Theo Brodnax as a young woman.
And here is a picture of James Harper Tripp Brodnax and Susan Demaris Harkins Brodnax, the parents of Ma Rankin, Great-Aunt Effie, Great-Uncle Joe, and seven other children. J.H.T. Brodnax and Susan married in Perry County, Alabama in 1865 after he returned from the Civil War. He enlisted as a Corporal, but mustered out as a Private. There is bound to be a good story in there somewhere, but I haven’t found it.
Finally, here is the meme I cannot resist. Someone posted this in response to a stupid tweet about the Notre Dame fire by the junior senator from Texas. Politics aside, the tweet was tone-deaf and dumb, something about Disney princesses in new Notre Dame stained glass windows. I won’t be able to use it, because I don’t tweet. But one of you out there can perhaps put it to good use.
Coming attractions on this blog include an article Gary is working on about a Foster Willis. From me, a continuation of a series of articles about the family of John Burke of Jackson County, Tennessee. Then Parrotts, Graves, Rivers or all of the above.
My father did say exactly that, but he was probably being facetious. Ma Rankin remained in that house until she died, and she certainly didn’t have a pension on which to draw. I would bet that Uncle Joe’s bequest was sufficient to provide for her old age.
This revision is necessary to correct and apologize for a mistake I made in the original post. At best, it was merely boneheaded. At worst, it was unthinkingly racist.
The text of the original post follows. I will point out the problem when I get to it. I have also abandoned the clumsy Brodnax/Broadnax duplication. They are the same name with different spellings.
As for the question posed in the title: “What does the name Brodnax Mean?”
I haven’t found anything definitive online. However, a reader posted a comment suggesting it is a derivation of “broad ax,” which makes sense. Wikipedia defines a broad ax as “a large axe with a broad blade, once used as a weapon and also used for hewing timber.”
Google responds to a question about the name’s meaning with links to commercial or genealogy websites. Google also offers a link to “Names.org,” which invites you to define what Brodnax means to you.
In a more constructive vein, Wikipedia has this to say (I added the links and one name to Wikipedia’s list):
“Broadnax is a surname. Notable people with the surname include:
Here is where I went off the rails in the original post: “If you are genetically related to a Brodnax/Broadnax, these menare probably your relatives (assuming they are also genetic Brodnaxes). It is possible that every genetic Brodnax in this country descends from a family that emigrated to Virginia in the 17thcentury.”
Let’s talk about “genetically related,” using another surname to illustrate. In the Willis DNA project, there are a number of genetically distinct Willis families whose Y-DNA doesn’t even remotely match each other. If they ever shared a common ancestor, it was thousands of years ago. They aren’t “genetically related” in any meaningful sense, i.e., within a genealogical timeframe. Nonetheless, a group of Willis men whose Y-DNA matches are all “genetic Willises” if they trace back to any Willis ancestor. That is so even if they don’t match other Willis lines. (I am ignoring possible NPE issues here for the sake of simplicity).
Why are there genetically distinct families who share a common surname? The explanation has to do with the origin of surnames themselves. When given names became inadequate to distinguish among men (yes, I mean “men,” not “people”), men acquired surnames based on, among other things, occupations. That gave us families named Cooper, Smith, Miller, and Forrester, for example. Perhaps it also gave us Brodnax, for men who hewed timber (possibly also forresters). Other men had a surname based on his father’s name, such as Davidson, Johnson, and Williamson, or shortened versions such as Wilson, Wills, or Willis. There are also toponymic names based on where one lived, such as a name ending in field, brook, or wood. Finally, in the feudal system of late antiquity and most of the middle ages, many serfs wound up with the name of the lord they served.
Serving a common master, or having a common profession, doesn’t imply a genetic relationship, of course. The bottom line is there is no reason to believe that everyone who shares a surname also shares a common ancestor.
Back to my own error. Keep in mind that some Brodnax researchers believe that all Caucasian Brodnaxes in this country are descended from the Brodnax family of Kent described later in this post.
Now click on the links for the seven people in the above list. Five of them are African-American. If they descend from enslaved persons, it is possible that the first free people in each one’s family adopted the surname of his or her former “owner.” Somehow, I forgot that was often the case, if not the norm. There is no more reason to believe that those five African-American Brodnaxes were related to each other than there is to believe that everyone named Willis is related to each other. Likewise, there is no reason to think the Brodnaxes in that list are all descended from a Caucasian Brodnax in Kent.
Nor is there any reason to question whether they are all genetic Brodnaxes. If each of them descends from an ancestor named Brodnax, he is a genetic Brodnax (again, ignoring a possible NPE issue). He just might not genetically match other men named Brodnax.
I am not certain how I fell into these stupid mistakes. What I evidently did was take the Caucasian Brodnax assumption – the likelihood that we are all descended from the Kent family – and apply it to five African-Americans. This effectively makes the parochial and essentially racist assumption that the Caucasian experience applies to everyone. Incredibly, I managed to make that assumption while entirely forgetting the way many formerly enslaved people acquired a surname.
When some old white lady says that the given name “Ta-Nahesi” (for example) is a “strange” name, what she really means is that it isn’t a typically Caucasian name. Her statement is racist because she is assuming that Caucasian names are normal.
That’s a perfect analogy to what I did in my original Brodnax post, so I apologize. Especially to a new third cousin, a charming woman descended from enslaved people. She and I are related through a Brodnax, and we found each other through DNA testing.
So … go take an autosomal DNA test and find out how connected we all are. That is still good advice. You will meet some nice people.
Back to the original post. It originally contained (1) a brief history of the early Brodnax line from Kent, England to colonial Virginia, (2) information about the most authoritative compiled genealogy on the family, and (3) a bit about my own Brodnaxes. Because this has now become so long, I will make the second and third items a separate post. Besides which, I have a number of other pictures I need to share.
Just to be clear: this is Caucasian Brodnax history, largely unchanged from the original post except to correct errors.
The family can be traced to a Robert Brodnax who was born in the early 1400s in Kent, England.Circa 1590, the family acquired land in Kent that had formerly been in the possession of Canterbury Benedictines. The estate on that land is called Godmersham Park. It still remains in private ownership, although it is no longer owned by a Brodnax.
In 1727, a Thomas Brodnax who was then in possession of Godmersham changed his surname to May in order to inherit an estate from a relative named Thomas May. The name change required an act of Parliament. In 1738, an additional inheritance further enriched Thomas Brodnax-May. It required that he change his surname to Knight – again needing Parliament’s permission.
As a result, some wag in Parliament suggested passing a bill to allow Thomas “to change his name to anything he pleases.”Two name changes evidently sufficed: Thomas Brodnax-May-Knight died in 1781. Godmersham passed to his son Thomas, presumably Thomas Knight. In 1794, the estate passed from Thomas Knight’s widow to Edward Austen, brother of novelist Jane Austen. Edward Austen also took the surname Knight. Jane Austen often visited and wrote at Godmersham, which is surely the best part of the Brodnax story in Kent.
The estate is impressive. Here is an image of the “house” (mansion?).
The colonial part of the story begins with Major John Brodnax (1608-1657), a descendant of the original Robert of Kent. He was a Royalist Cavalier during the English Civil Wars. Since the Parliamentarians (“Roundheads”) prevailed, Major John fled to the colonies, either to escape Cromwell’s ax or because he was exiled. He died in York County, Virginia. The William & Mary Quarterly published an inventory of his estate, which included three pair of gloves, five broadcloth suits, three periwigs, one rapier and belt, ribbon, slippers, cuffs, et al.The wardrobe apparently identifies him as a Cavalier, as does his heritage – try to imagine a Brodnax from Godmersham as anything but a Royalist – and the fact that his family remained behind in London.
William and Mary Quarterly and Virginia Magazine of History and Biography have both published Major John’s will, either in its entirety or abstracted.The will evidently mentions his wife Dorothy, eldest son Thomas, who “lives in ye Golden Griffin with Mr. Thomas Turges in Fenchurch St.,” son John “living with Mr. Joseph King at the Golden Sonne in Gracious St.” (now Gracechurch St.), youngest sons William and Robert, and daughter Elizabeth, to whom he bequeathed his“Bible-booke and my Eare ring with a Dyamant in itt.”
A 1676 suit in chancery styled Brodnax v. Gibbonproves that Major John was a son of Thomas Brodnax and his wife Elizabeth Taylor of Godmersham (descendants of the first Robert of Kent). It also proves Major John was the grandfather of the next Brodnax immigrants to Virginia.
They were John and William Brodnax, sons of Robert of Holborn. John (1668 – 1719) was a goldsmith, like his father. He lived in Williamsburg and left a will naming three sons and two daughters. The will directed that two sons be sent home to England and “bound out to such trades as my executors” see fit. According to the Virginia Magazine, “it is not believed that John Brodnax has any descendants to-day  in Virginia.”
William I, also a son of Robert of Holborn, settled in Jamestown. He married Rebecca Champion, widow of Edward Travis. It is possible, perhaps likely, that William Brodnax I and Rebecca Champion Travis are the ancestors of all Caucasian Brodnaxes in the U.S., including two presidents.
William I brought with him from England his father’s Bible and paintings of his parents. There are also extant portraits of William I and his wife Rebecca, as well as their son William II, daughter Rebecca Elizabeth Brodnax, and son Edward Brodnax. There are eight Brodnax portraits in all, now in the possession of the Richmond Museum of Fine Arts. Several of them are terrible portraiture, even to an untrained eye. Here are images of the Brodnax family portraits:
Rebecca Champion Travis Brodnax was surely more attractive than her portrait suggests. She and William I were buried in the Travis burying grounds on Jamestown Island. Their tombstones are gone, but a marker and large slab for two John Champions, presumably Rebecca’s kin, remains. There is also a marker and tombstone for Edward Travis, first husband of Rebecca Champion Travis Brodnax. Here are some pictures I took in the Travis graveyard:
Whew! That’s more than enough for this installment. I will promptly re-post the information about how to find the definitive Brodnax book, as well as some information about my own Brodnax family.
See you on down the road.
I can’t find any notable women named Brodnax, although one of the men in the list was transgender, female-to-male.
This history is taken from facts in Mildred Seab Ezell’s book, Brodnax: The Beginning (1995), a UK website about English parks, the William and Mary Quarterly, Series I, Vol. XXVII 181, and The Virginia Magazine of History and Biography,Vol. 24, No. 4 (Oct. 1916) 417.
According to the Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, a pedigree of the Brodnax family may be found in Berry’s Visitation of Kent. I haven’t looked at either that august tome, Berry’s Kentish Genealogy, or Burke’s Peerage, so I have no helpful citations.
I cannot find a citation, although I am certain about my memory. If a member of Parliament didn’t say that, someone should have.
William and Mary Quarterly, Vol. XXVII, Series I, at 181. The Virginia Magazine of History and Biography published a slightly different list. My notes aren’t entirely clear, but I may have viewed the original and come up with a third interpretation.
The published versions differ in some respects, and I haven’t seen the original will.
Id. Mildred Ezell said that John Brodnax’s eldest son, Robert, lived and died in Pennsylvania. I haven’t seen any information about him.
Several sources say that William and Rebecca Champion Travis Brodnax were the ancestors of Presidents George H. W. Bush and George W. Bush. See, e.g., this website.