Spade strikes again: John Mason Rankin’s information

The caller ID said “Spade.” It was 5:30 p.m. Good. By now, Spade would have had a shot of his favorite cheap scotch. Enough to take the edge off his sometimes fractious personality, while leaving his faculties intact.

I accepted the call. “Hello, doll,” he said. “What are you doing?”

Just so you know, “doll” is not a term of affection. Spade has several women friends who do genealogical detective work, and he calls us all “doll.” I don’t think he can remember which of us is which.

I rolled my eyes. “You know perfectly well what I’m doing! You’re the one who called me at 3 a.m. and dropped this mess in my lap.”

“I just want to bounce my theory off you,” he said, clearly aggrieved. “Namely, how do you assess the credibility of the Mt. Horeb legend, the John Mason Rankin letters, and the John Mason Bible? What’s real, and what smells fishy? Most importantly, what do we really believe about Adam Rankin?”

“That’s a pot load of information, Spade. We’ll need to lay it out in pieces to do it justice.”

“Go for it, doll,” he said. Naturally, he gave me the tough job. I heard ice clinking in his highball glass. I pictured him leaning back in his wooden swivel chair and putting his feet on his desk.

I sighed. “OK, let’s take them one at a time. See if we can boil each one down to essential facts.”

I pulled out my summary of all this stuff. I started with a bit of Rankin lore known to every Rankin researcher: the so-called Mt. Horeb legend. This story is literally cast in bronze on a memorial in the Mt. Horeb Presbyterian cemetery in Jefferson County, Tennessee. It is a colorful tale featuring two Rankin brothers, unnamed, who were supposedly martyrs to their Presbyterianism in Scotland. One allegedly died in a smokehouse, the other murdered on a road. This was presumably during the 1680s Killing Times. A third brother, William, allegedly escaped to County Derry, Ireland, as did their father Alexander. The legend claims William and Alexander were in Londonderry during the 1689 Siege.

William had three sons, according to the legend: Adam, John, and Hugh. Adam was allegedly born in Scotland in 1699; John and Hugh in Ulster. The three sons came to Chester County, Pennsylvania — Adam and Hugh in 1721 and John in 1727. Adam’s wife, Elizabeth May, died shortly after their arrival; he then married Mary Steele. Hugh died in a mill accident. John married Jane McElwee and had two sons, Richard and Thomas, and eight daughters. Richard settled in Augusta County, Virginia; Thomas went to East Tennessee.

“Let’s take stock, Spade. Which of these Mt. Horeb claims do we know to be true?”

“Easy,” he said, slurping. “Virtually nothing. That story has more holes than a fishnet.”

“Gee, thanks,” I replied. Spade’s colorful way with words is not always helpful. “OK,” I said, “here are the few facts supported by documentary evidence:

(1) there was in fact an Alexander Rankin who was present during the Siege of Londonderry;

(2) an Adam Rankin did marry Mary Steele, widow of James Alexander, in Pennsylvania or Maryland (Adam died in Lancaster County. Pennsylvania);

(3) a John Rankin of Lancaster County did have sons Thomas and Richard and eight daughters; and

(4) John’s son Richard did settle in Augusta County, Virginia; Thomas in fact went to east Tennessee.”

“Mm-hmmm,” Spade graciously agreed, pouring himself another shot. I clearly needed to move this along before he pulled his usual move: abruptly hanging up.

I continued. “And here’s what cannot possibly be true:

(1) The Adam Rankin who married Mary Steele Alexander and the John Rankin who had sons Thomas and Richard and 8 daughters were NOT brothers. They weren’t genetic kin of any sort, according to Y-DNA, and DNA doesn’t lie. Nevertheless, the legend persists.

(2) If Adam Rankin was born in Scotland in 1699, then he wasn’t a son of William, who was allegedly at the Siege of Londonderry in 1689. Alternatively, if William was Adam’s father in 1699, then William wasn’t in Ireland during the Siege.”

“Mm-hmmm,” said Spade, again. He was being uncharacteristically agreeable. I wondered if he had upgraded his Scotch to a single malt.

“You’re batting a thousand so far, doll. And what in the legend has no documentary evidence one way or the other?”

“I’m not painting that fence, Tom Sawyer!” I said, drawing a line in the sand. “The short answer is everything else. Everything. But I’m not going into that level of detail, Spade, it would take us forever. Also, I’ve written about it on my blog ad infinitum. Just look it up.”

“Relax, doll. You’re too uptight. Why don’t you go get yourself a glass of your wussy chardonnay?”

“Because I want to get this over with before Christmas, you old reprobate! Let’s move on to the John Mason Rankin letter and what it says about Adam. And how about you take a shot at it? I want to know what you think.”

There was silence for a few moments while Spade considered this.

“That’s a really long letter,” he said. “In fact, there are two letters, plus John Mason Rankin’s Bible.”

“You’re right. And that’s not all: the current location of those documents is an issue. One online claim is that it they are owned by Robert Rankin of McAllister, Texas. However, there is no such place as McAllister, Texas. That probably refers to McAllen, an actual town in the Valley. Another claim is that a woman identified as KHULSM — her Ancestry name, perhaps? — posted the 2 letters and the Bible on Ancestry in 2008, asserting that she had received them during the 1990s. I found a website years ago where KHULSM posted these items and tried unsuccessfully to contact her more than once. I have no reason to believe she ever had her hands on those documents, because she does not claim descent from that line (or did not at one time).”

I continued: “Striking out so far, I eventually traded emails with Susan F., another Rankin researcher, who said she found a Robert Rankin in McAllen. He was a descendant of John Mason Rankin descendant the original owner of the documents. He told Susan he had transcribed them and that they are now in a museum in San Augustine, Texas. Unfortunately, there is no museum in that little East Texas town. That is, however, where John Mason Rankin lived.”

No response. I wondered whether Spade had fallen asleep. This sometimes happens when I get too prolix.

I persisted, with some asperity. “All of that made me wonder if one or more of those documents might be a fraud. You should probably address that question, Spade. After all, you’re the famous private eye.”

“OK, OK! Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I have some issues with the Bible, but I think the John Mason Rankin letters are the real McCoy. Some of the info checks out for which he would have had no evidentiary basis. Also, what fraudster has the patience to spend all that time and effort inventing facts about corn and cotton yields and other bucolic economic crap?”

“OK, then,” I said mildly — the ball now solidly in Spade’s court — “what do you think about John Mason Rankin’s statement of his early family history, specifically, about his ancestor Adam Rankin?”

“I think the long letter from September 1854 is a gold mine,” said Spade, “both for what it says and — even more importantly — for what it doesn’t say. It’s probably the closest we will ever get to Adam Rankin’s actual oral family history. And as close as we will come to the truth.”

“O-kay,” I said, “now we’re getting somewhere! What does John Mason say that caught your eye?”

“He is responding to a request from a relative for information about their family. He begins with this, providing his source:”

‘I will take pleasure in doing as far as known to me and will commence as far back as I find recorded in my father’s family bible.’

“Wow,” I said. “I had not realized that John Mason’s source for early information was the Bible of Reverend Adam Rankin, a son of Jeremiah and Rhoda Craig Rankin and a grandson of Adam and Mary Steele Alexander Rankin. You’re right, that provides instant credibility.”

“OK, here comes the history:

‘Adam Rankin moved from Scotland to Ireland had three sons – Adam, John and Hugh and one daughter named Jane.’ “

Spade paused to top up his glass and savor the impact of his analysis. “Note two very important distinctions with the Mt. Horeb legend: first, he names Adam’s father as Adam rather than William of the Mt. Horeb version. John Mason, a man who made a living by loaning money and made careful notes on crop yields, is definitely not the kind of person to make an error on such an important matter. If he said Adam’s father was named Adam, then … Adam’s father was named Adam, not William. The only issue is whether the person who transcribed the letter made an error.”

A brief silence ensued. “Once again,” I said, “we find ourselves needing to look at the original. If we can find it. Ergh.”

“But that’s almost not the best part,” Spade continued. He left me in suspense for a moment, one of his favorite ploys.

“The best part is what John Mason (and therefore Rev. Adam’s Bible) did NOT say … there is no story of Rankin martyrs during the Killing Times; no mention of the Siege of Londonderry. I take that as compelling evidence that those events were not part of Rev. Adam’s oral history, or they would have been included in his Bible.”

“For a change, Spade, I’m with you 100%. No caveats or minor disagreements. That means the Killing Times and Londonderry stories, to the extent they actually happened, belong to the line of the John Rankin with sons Thomas and Richard and eight daughters, who wasn’t kin to Adam’s family.”

“But wait … there’s more!” teased Spaded. “Rev. Adam’s Bible provides names and dates:”

“In 1720 Adam and Hugh came to America. Adam was married to Elizabeth May in Ireland. She died soon after her arrival in America. He then married Mrs. Steel, by her he had three sons James, William, and Jeremiah and died 1750.”

Spade elaborated. “Adam’s marriage to Mary Steele Alexander and the fact that he had three sons is conclusively proved, as everyone knows. And Adam’s death date as recorded in the Bible is close enough for oral family history: he actually died and left a will in 1747, not 1750, in Lancaster County. Finally, this probably settles the lingering controversy over whether Elizabeth May or Mary Steele was the mother of James. Or at least provides the only credible evidence on that issue.”

“OK, Spade, you’ve outdone yourself. While you are on a roll, why don’t you evaluate John Mason Rankin’s Bible?”

“I have a problem with the Bible, but only because it has entries dated after John Mason died. It also claims that William, not Adam, was the father of Adam m. Mary Steele Alexander. I strongly suspect that entry — which echoes the well-known Mt. Horeb legend — was added by a well-meaning descendant who had done some cursory family history research. Rev. Adam’s Bible is better than John Mason’s, especially if those entries are relatively contemporaneous.”

A long silence ensued, during which I considered that chardonnay.

“OK, Spade, how ’bout you join me for a trip to San Augustine, Texas, and let’s see what we can find in a local library or genealogical society? We obviously need to see that Bible to assess whether William’s name was in different handwriting than the original Bible entries. And to see whether John Mason’s letter identified Adam’s father as Adam.”

“Nope. You’re on your own, Doll. Texas is too far away from California, and I need to earn a living. Also, I think there may be an extant arrest warrant for yours truly somewhere in East Texas.”

With that, he hung up. I headed for the kitchen, hoping that chardonnay was already chilled.

See you on down the road.

Robin