Category: Articles

These are family history articles we have written to summarize in one document what we know (or think we know) about a particular ancestor, ancestral line, or someone else who caught our interest. Warning: we both have a serious grudge against genealogists who do not cite to sources. We try not to commit that sin, so our articles typically have a plethora of footnotes identifying our sources. We use four main categories of source documents: (1) county records, such as deeds, wills, tax lists, court records, etc.; (2) abstracts of such original records; (3) non-county records such as the federal census, state censuses, and military records; and (4) books. We rarely if ever cite to family trees posted at ancestry.com, the Family Search website, or elsewhere on the web.

Slide, Mom! Slide!

As regular readers know, this blog software will only recognize one author for each article, either Robin or me. However, this post was coauthored by me and our sons Burke and Ryan. The only way I can credit them is by this introductory statement. Thanks, guys!

—————-

Robin was on second base when the batter smacked a sharp line drive past the shortstop into left field. Off at the crack of the bat, she had clear sailing into third base. What she did not expect was the third base coach – her husband — windmilling his right arm signaling her to round third and head for home. She lowered her head and tried to pick up the pace. Unfortunately, speed was not in her skill set. Fortunately, she had a large storehouse of badassery.

The fielder snagged the ball in shallow left and in one step fired a bullet toward home. It was gonna be a close play! Ryan’s scream from the stands could be heard all over the field, “Slide, Mom! Slide!” The catcher straddled the plate and caught the perfect throw chest-high. Robin slid between the catcher’s feet – the only open path to the plate. Dust flying! The crowd of maybe 40 people roaring! Before the catcher could apply a tag, the umpire hollered, “Safe!” with arms outstretched, palms down.

Robin got up, dusted herself off smiling, and trotted to the bench. Later, she asked, “What were you thinking? You KNOW I can’t run!” I could only answer, “Well, I didn’t know the left fielder had that kind of an arm.”

One thing I did know is that Robin always threw herself into anything she tackled. BA in Economics. Phi Beta Kappa. Law Degree. High level manager in the energy industry. Courtroom lawyer. Talented dancer, pianist, and guitar player. Above all, a devoted Mom. But I am ahead of myself.

Most of her accomplishments were against the odds. Take that slide into home during a Houston City League softball game. She had never done that before, but it did not stop her trying and succeeding. In softball, runners cannot leave the base until the ball is hit. They cannot take a nice extended lead. A runner on second is NOT guaranteed to score on a single to the outfield. At five foot two and forty-two years old, Robin was probably the shortest and oldest infielder in the league. The catcher stood about five foot ten and weighed one eighty. There was no way Robin could go through that woman, so she slid under her. The catcher may have been bigger and quicker, but Robin was older and cagier – and more determined. There was only one way to make that play work, and Robin found it. Sorta characteristic of her life: faced with an obstacle, Robin usually found a way.

As a kid in Shreveport, Louisiana, she was always athletic. Climbing trees. Playing tag. To her parents’ credit, they encouraged this active behavior. They sent her to a summer camp where she excelled at all types of activities. Camp Fern in Marshall, Texas, was on a small lake where girls learned swimming, canoeing, and water skiing. There was always an element of competition both individually and against the other tribe. They also competed in horseback riding, riflery, and archery. Robin was never the biggest or the fastest but became a leader of one tribe. When she outgrew being a camper, she became a counselor’s aide and then a counselor. She was an instructor in water skiing and riflery – the first female counselor to drive the ski boat and run the rifle range. Over ten summers, Robin was challenged physically and recognized in competition against her peers.

As a student at The University of Oklahoma, she majored in Economics. She was an academic standout and an officer of her sorority. She landed the lead dance and singing role in a major student stage production.

A neighboring fraternity recognized her academic prowess and asked her help tutoring its members through a Statistics course. Stat was known as one of the flunk-out courses in the Business Department. Every one of her eight ”students” passed!

She left college before completing her degree to marry the luckiest man in the world and to start a family. Nevertheless, she resolved she was going to complete her education – somewhere – sometime. It didn’t take long. Three years later she graduated with honors from OU. She could not immediately put her degree to work because she was tied to the itinerant lifestyle of a military wife.

She created other outlets in lieu of gainful employment. She painted. She wrote poetry. She doted on her two sons. She spearheaded a crisis intervention Help Line. In her spare time, she wrote a subversive column for “Listen Ladies,” the Officers Wives Club newsletter. The column was unabashedly feminist, a radical position on a military base in the early 1970s. Importantly, she wrote well, with precision, with explicit expression, and with no wasted words. She is the only person I have ever met who can edit their own writing. This talent would not be wasted.

In 1973, her family became unshackled from the military, and she sought professional employment where she could put her Economics degree to work. Three questions common to her interviews loomed as obstacles, only one of which seemed legitimate. “Do you speak any computer language?” Fair enough. She did not, so she immediately enrolled in a Fortran class. “How many words per minute do you type?” Pardon me? I have an Econ degree. I am not applying for a secretarial position. And, finally, “What will you do with your children?” She wanted to say she would put them up for adoption, of course. What’s the answer to that question anyway? Love them? Cherish them? Help them reach their goals?

Several months later, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission announced an audit of a company that had declined to hire her. The company’s highest-ranking female at the time was an Executive Secretary. The company needed immediate progress in hiring females and minorities to avoid large fines. It scrambled through its files and found this previously rejected woman.

“Are you still interested in employment?” “Yes,” she answered, “and I now speak Fortran.” She was hired on the spot as an Analyst in the Economics and Planning Department.

Her second day on the job, she learned that the department taught Fortran to all incoming employees who were not computer literate. So much for that first interview question being a legitimate obstacle.

During her second month, the department hired a male college grad with no experience at twice her salary. The handwriting about sexist discrimination was chiseled into the wall, but she did not give up.

Her boss quickly recognized her intelligence, analytical skills and writing talents. He drafted her into a fledgling mergers and acquisitions group tasked with recommending steps to diversify this stodgy old pipeline company. Her efforts steered the company into some profitable ventures and away from risky ones. She graduated from analyzing and preparing material for executive review into presenting those materials to the board of directors. Her expertise grew to encompass the whole enterprise. She led the creation of an annual strategic plan for the company with periodic updates during the year.

All the while, she was a wonderful wife and mother, raising and nurturing two wonderful sons. To hear her tell it now, she regrets the long hours and some weekend work wishing she had spent more time with her boys. But if you ask them, they will tell you about her attendance at early Saturday morning soccer games in the dead of winter. They’ll mention her love of baseball and family tickets to Astros games. Annual summer vacations to The Other Place on the Comal River, including the time spent in a rickety cabin she christened “The Pit” during a thunderstorm. Drives around the Hill Country searching for “Mom’s Eats” or the best café the small towns offered. Finding Luckenbach and the Grist Mill at Gruene and Naeglin’s Bakery in New Braunfels.

Burke, Robin, Gary, and Ryan in Colorado

Ski trips to Colorado. Vacations to Cozumel. Singing and playing the guitar at night to put both boys to sleep when they were toddlers. Playing piano accompaniment for Burke’s saxophone solo at University Interscholastic League competitions. Listening to old 45 rpm records with Ryan when he was interested in learning the guitar. And later, the midnight trips to Houston after attending his band’s performance at Hole in the Wall or other Austin venues. She helped make life an adventure for everyone around her. And her boys loved it.

Her career took a turn when the executive she had worked with for years departed the pipeline company and joined an independent oil and gas producer. The opportunity was there for the pipeline company to promote her into a higher role, but they blew it. Instead of promoting her, they asked her to assume an expanded role, but with no title or additional pay. As I said, the gender discrimination ran deep. Within a couple of months, her old boss called with an offer at the oil and gas company. She considered it for a while and accepted.

Her new company had no planning systems despite being deeply involved in overseas and domestic exploration and production. Her new job was to create that function from scratch, and then convince a bunch of crusty oil patch guys to buy into the program. She successfully developed systems that helped the company make good decisions. After seven years, she had had enough. One deciding factor? Again, gender discrimination. She observed to her boss that she performed functions and had responsibility equal to two male employees who were titled vice presidents. Her title? Director, a notch below vice president and one that existed nowhere else in the company. She suggested they should all have equal rank. The response of the company — you probably guessed — they demoted the two officers to directors!

She soon resigned and entered law school, fulfilling a dream from her earliest days in college. Before classes began, the law school informed her she had been granted a scholarship for which she had not even applied. Her first summer, she walked into the Houston office of the American Civil Liberties Union and asked if she could help. They immediately put her to (unpaid) work researching First Amendment issues related to an existing case. The next semester, the ACLU recognized her as volunteer of the year with a cash stipend. Law school was a great fit. She made Law Review, graduated with honors, and went to work for a respected firm as “the world’s oldest living associate,” as she laughingly said.

She became a civil litigator, standing up in court, thinking on her feet, and trying to find justice for her clients. After several years, the law firm dissolved as partners spun out into boutique firms or private practice. She followed suit and ran her own business until retiring.

Meanwhile, Burke’s wife was accepted to medical school. The couple planned to move their family south of Houston, a shorter drive to the Med Center. Without a moment’s delay, Robin said we needed to move into the same neighborhood to help with their three school-age children. Robin met the grandchildren at 6:30 each the morning when their mother dropped them at the bus stop and waited with them until the school bus arrived. She then took care of her law clients until meeting the school bus in the afternoon.

Robin loves gardening and genealogy. After retirement, she directed more energy toward those hobbies with a lush vegetable garden in the back yard and frequent road trips to county courthouses and archives in search of “dead relatives.” At the age of 66, she mentioned we had never been to the Houston Boat Show. A few days later we took delivery of a 17-foot tandem kayak. She also won a raffle for a thousand-dollar shopping spree for fishing gear. Our kayak soon had a trolling motor and a fish finder. We had fun exploring local lakes, rivers, and salt water fishing near San Luis Pass.

As age crept up on us, our retirement morphed. Most of our friends are now those from church rather than business associates. A swimming pool replaced the garden in a nod to our creaky knees. For similar reasons, the kayak gave way to a bigger boat. The genealogical road trips have decreased in number as more original documents became available online. And we have explored more foreign cities, Paris being our favorite. A dozen years later, she has survived ovarian cancer and is recovering from hip replacement surgery. Slide, Mom! Slide! We look forward to more fishing trips before selling the boat and moving to Austin to be closer to our boys. It is sure to be another adventure regardless of the obstacles.

Thank you, Robin Rankin Willis, the love of my life, my best friend, my wife, and my hero.

Field of Dreams – Dr. Henry Noble Willis – Part II

When we left Dr. Willis in 1899 in a Field of Dreams Part I, he had just remarried after the untimely death of his first wife Mary E. McMaster. Their two children were Mary Catherine, age eight, and Harry McMaster, age six, when Dr. Willis remarried. Jessie Sensor, his new wife, was only eighteen, a very young stepmother for these two! She was the daughter of The Reverend George Guyer Senser and Julia Frances Mendenhall.[1]

During the year between his wife’s death and his remarriage, surely family or friends helped Henry care for the children. The kids lived at Henry’s home on Second Street. Their maternal grandmother, Elizabeth Grace McMaster, lived close by in Pocomoke City on Market Street between First and Second. Henry also had a live-in cook in the household, Annie Marshall. Regardless, the trauma of losing Mary had to have been extremely painful for Henry and their children.

Jessie joined the family and settled into the Willis home on Second Street. They lived there for another nine years. The 1900 census lists the four Willis family members and Annie.[2] The Willises began attending church at the Salem Methodist Church at 500 Second Street Jessie’s father preached there on a rotating basis. Jessie was active in the church, as she had been throughout her life. She played the violin in the Salem Sunday School Orchestra.

A photo of the group published in the local paper shows her seated at the far right. According to the paper, the ensemble organized in 1904 and played for about ten years.[3] Henry and Jessie’s first child was also born in 1904, a daughter they named Grace after Jessie’s younger sister.

In 1908, the family moved to Wilmington, Delaware. Records do not indicate why the family relocated. Dr. Willis seemed to be doing well in Pocomoke City. He had served one term as a commissioner of the Orphan’s Court in Worcester.[4] He and Jessie owned their home and an office building. Initially, the children’s grandparents were close by. Elizabeth McMaster lived in town and the Sensors were only 20 miles distant. That support system disappeared when Elizabeth McMaster died, and several years later the Methodist Church reassigned George Sensor to churches in New Jersey.[5] Maybe the lure of the larger city enticed Jessie and Henry to move. Moving closer to Jessie’s parents may also have been a factor. Wilmington is about 35 miles from Camden and Wenonah, New Jersey, where Reverend Sensor was newly assigned. The extended family took another hit, however, when Rev. Sensor died in 1913. Whatever the reasoning at the time, Henry and Jessie sold their home in Pocomoke and moved.[6]

Financial Mystery

The family’s financial situation is a mystery. Henry inherited several hundreddollars from his father’s and grandfather’s estates.[7]He purchased property on Second Street in Pocomoke City for $350 in 1890. He and Jessie sold it for $2,100. That would have been a nice profit except that it was mortgaged for $1,500. The net cash to the family was only $600 less any fees. Henry and Jessie did not have enough money to buy a house in Wilmington, so they rented.

It appears that Dr. Willis had been increasingly in debt in Worcester County. Deed records show that only months after purchasing the home in Pocomoke, he borrowed money against it. Further, he refinanced the debt in larger amounts over the years.[8] When his first wife inherited an interest in property from her father, they mortgaged that as well, even before they owned part of it outright. They refinanced that property several times at increasing amounts.[9] There is no record of how Henry used the borrowed money. Did he try to start a drug store, as suggested by his purchase of soda fountain equipment? One mortgage of the office building that was part of the inherited McMaster property indicated it was occupied by, and presumably rented to, a fish and oyster dealer.[10]There should have been some income from that rental. Interestingly, deed records do not show Henry and Jessie ever selling the McMaster property. Was it repossessed for nonpayment of debt? Whatever the actual state of their finances, Henry and Jessie never bought a home in Wilmington. They lived in rented houses for the rest of their lives.

Wilmington

Dr. Willis worked as a general practitioner in Wilmington. He received specialist training in eye, ear, nose and throat diseases and was for several years the city vaccine physician for the southeastern district. Jessie worked as a secretary and pastor’s assistant at Harrison Street Methodist Church a short distance from their home(s). She became Superintendent of the Beginners Department of the Church School and staged many religious productions by the church youth. We can assume her income helped maintain the household. Family legend states that Dr. Willis sometimes took payment in kind from his patients, e.g., a chicken or two instead of currency.

Henry’s mother, Emily R. Willis moved to Wilmington from Preston by at least 1909 and lived with her son’s family until her death in 1921.[11] Emily apparently took good care of her money and probably helped with household expenses. Her personal property estate in 1921 amounted to almost $6,500, all in bank deposits or a secured loan. Henry and his sister Mary each inherited about $2,700 after expenses.[12]

Tragically, the couple’s daughter Grace died of meningitis at the age of five in 1909.[13] Henry and Jessie soon adopted a child about the same age, Katheryn, whom everyone called Kitty. In 1916, Jessie gave birth to a son, Noble Sensor Willis, who was a full generation younger than his half-sister Mary. Mary was still listed in the household in the 1920 Federal Census at age 28 and worked as a secretary.[14]

Mary Catherine Willis

Mary Willis never married. She worked most of her life for the YWCA. In 1916, she attended a reunion of The McMaster Clan in America, in Ashbury Park, New Jersey. Her uncle John S. McMaster organized this national group after extensive research on the family’s Scottish roots.[15] The McMaster Clan elected her Foreign Secretary in 1920.

Mary C. and Harry M. Willis at McMaster Clan Reunion

At the time, she was headed for Peking, China, as a secretary for The Language School, a missionary group sponsored by the YWCA. Her 1920 passport covered visits to Hong Kong, China and Japan.[16] A McMaster family history book lists both Mary and Harry with a permanent address in Wilmington, Delaware.[17] Mary returned from China to the United States before WWII broke out and continued working for the YWCA. She retired in St. Petersburg, Florida, where she died 29 Sep 1966. Mary is buried in the family plot at Silverbrook Cemetery, Wilmington, Delaware.[18]

Harry McMaster Willis

Harry Willis left Wilmington in 1917 to join the Aviation Section of the Signal Corps, the precursor organization of the Army Air Corps.[19] He was a sergeant stationed in Wichita Falls, Texas, in 1918 when he married Margaret Allmond, a native of Wilmington.[20] She was the daughter of Dr. Charles M. and Emma Allmond. We can easily speculate that the doctors Willis and Allmond knew each other.

Harry and Margaret were married in Wichita Falls rather than Wilmington. Dr. Allmond accompanied his daughter on probably a two-day train trip from Wilmington to Wichita Falls for the wedding.[21] After being discharged from the service, Harry and Margaret moved back to Wilmington where he became an insurance agent. His listing with the McMaster Clan in 1920 showed him serving with 198^th Aero Squadron, but with an address in Wilmington.[22]

Harry and Margaret raised two daughters, Margaret and Emma May, who married two Larson brothers. The young women were wed several years apart in the home of their grandparents, Dr. and Mrs. Allmond, by the pastor at Second Baptist Church. Harry’s wife Margaret died in 1967. Harry subsequently married Virginia Baker Borton, widow of Everett E. Borton. Harry died in Wilmington in 1974 and Virginia in 1981.

Part III

While his elder children were becoming independent, Dr. Willis’s health began to fail. He died of heart disease 11 April 1926.[23]Widow Jessie was left to raise eleven year old Noble Sensor Willis with only her income from working at the church. How she did that will have to wait for the third part of this family story.

One hint about what is to come — Harry’s stint with the Air Corps in World War I likely influenced the direction his young half-brother, Noble, took before World War II. Noble graduated from Duke University into the teeth of the depression in 1939. Unable to find a job that would use his new college degree, he enlisted in the Air Corps. Did Harry’s prior service have anything to do with that decision? We do not know, but it seems logical that it would. More to come.

______

A summary descendancy chart will help picture this family –

Henry Noble Willis (1865 – 1926)

Married 1^st Mary E. McMaster (1867 – 1898)

Children:

Mary Catherine Willis (1891 – 1966)

Harry McMaster Willis (1893 – 1974)

Married 1^st Margaret Lobdell Allmond (1896 – 1967)

Married 2^nd Virginia Baker Borton ( – 1981)

Married 2^nd Jessie Sensor (1881 – 1937)

Children:

Grace Willis (1904 – 1909)

Katheryn Willis (1905 – 1972)

Noble Sensor Willis (1916 – 1969)

[1] Several sources online give Jessie Sensor and her sister Grace the middle name Mendenhall, but I have found no evidence supporting either. In fact, some census records show their brothers with middle names or initials but not the two girls.

[2] 1900 Federal Census for Worcester Co., MD, Pocomoke City, page 23B, Second Street, dwelling # 80:

Dr. Henry N. Willis, 34, b Dec 1865, married 1 year, b MD; Jessie S. Willis, 19, b Jan 1881, married 1 year, b NEB; Mary C. Willis, 8, b Jul 1891, MD; Harry M. Willis, 6, b Jul 1893, MD; Annie Marshall, cook, 32, b 1868 VA

[3] The photo appeared in the 1955 Anniversary Edition of the local newspaper, the “Worcester Democrat,” copy of the clipping in possession of the author.

[4] Obituary newspaper clipping in possession of the author.

[5] Elizabeth Grace McMaster died in 1903 per tombstone on Find-A-Grave

[6] Worcester County Deed Book OCD 2:29 – 26 Jun 1908, Henry N. and Jessie S. Willis sell the Home Lot for $2,100

[7] Caroline County Deed Book ECF 61:369, 7 Dec 1894 – James S. Willis purchased lands of Zachariah Willis from his siblings or their heirs for $200 each. With sibling Henry F Willis deceased, his widow Emily R. Willis and children Mary W. Clark and Henry N. Willis shared the proceeds. Emily was apparently living with her daughter; both their signatures were notarized on the same document in Sussex County, Delaware.

[8] Worcester County Deed Book entries related to the Home Lot – FHP 1:116 – Henry N. Willis purchases for $350 in Sep 1890; FHP 1:275 – borrowed $500 in January 1891; FHP 1:310 – borrowed another $500 in February 1891; FHP 5:403 – borrowed $1,400 in October 1894 to refinance, netted $400; FHP 6:482 – borrowed $1,500 in July 1895 to refinance, netted $100.

[9] Worcester County Deed Book entries related to the Office Lot – FHP 1:202 – Elizabeth Grace McMaster gifts property to her four children in Dec 1890; FHP 3:535 – borrowed $600 secured by ¼ undivided interest in March 1893; FHP 4:524 – siblings gift the Office Lot to Mary E. Willis in December 1893; FHP 5:320 – borrowed $1,500 in July 1894 to refinance, netted $900; FHP 9:116 – borrowed $1,800 in Feb 1897 to refinance, netted $300.

[10] Worchester County Deed Book FHP 12:239 – 13 May 1899, Henry Willis borrowed $80 to be repaid at the rate of $20 every three months secured by the office building occupied by James W. Bonnefield [sic Bonneville] who appears in the 1900 census as a fish and oyster dealer.

[11] The 1909 City Directory for Wilmington lists the members of the household at 320 S. Heald Street as Henry N. Willis, Jessie S. Willis, Mary C. Willis, Harry W [sic M] Willis, and Emily R. Willis. It does not show a separate business address for Dr. Willis indicating he may have been seeing patients in his home. The 1910 Federal Census shows the same residents but lists the address as 315 S. Heald.

[12] Orphan’s Court of Caroline County, Maryland, Probate Records of the Estate of Emily P. Willis, died 13 Feb 1921, total personal property $6,452.41, net after expenses $5,407.52, distributed to each Henry N. Willis and Mary W. Clark $2,703.76.

[13] Return of a Death in the City of Wilmington, Grace Willis, 11 May 1909, Meningitis, born MD, Heald and New Castle Street.

[14] 1920 Federal Census for Wilmington shows the household at 703 West Tenth Street; Henry N. Willis, 54, physician; Jessie S, 38; Mary C., 28, secretary YWCA; Catherine [sic, Katheryn], 18; Noble, 3½; Emily P. 86.

[15] McMaster, Fitz Hugh, The History of the MacMaster-McMaster Family, The State Company, Columbia, South Carolina, 1926, 43.

[16] Passport application

[17] McMaster, 106. Miss Mary Clarke [sic Catherine] Willis, 919 Adams Street, Wilmington, Del. Born July 9, 1891, Pocomoke City, Md.; niece of John S. McMaster. The listing incorrectly states her middle name as Clarke rather than Catherine.

[18] Silverbrook Cemetery Records, Wilmington, Delaware, p 234 – Old Book; Lot #4 1/2, Section M, Deed # 418, Burial 16350, Grave 6, Mary C. Willis, 75 yrs., 10/4/66

[19] Delaware World War I Servicemen’s Records, 1917-1919, on Ancestry, Harry McMaster Willis, age 24, service date 8 Nov 1917.

[20] Wilmington Morning News 11 Oct 1918, page 12, at Newspapers.com. Sergeant Harry M. Willis married Margaret Lobdell Allmond on 30 Sep 1918 in Wichita Falls, Texas

[21] Undated newspaper clipping on Ancestry. Likely, Wilmington Morning News, Sunday, 29 Sep 1918. Also, the 1909 Wilmington City Directory lists Charles M. Allmond physician and druggist at 627 Market with a home at 914 West Street. Margaret L. Allmond is not listed in the directory. She is listed as 14 years old in the 1910 Federal Census.

[22] McMaster, 107. Harry McMaster Willis, 919 Adams Street, Wilmington, Del. Born July 27 1893 at Pocomoke City, Md.; nephew of John S. McMaster; member of 198^th Aero Squadron.

[23] State of Delaware Death Certificate No. 1274, HN Willis, MD, 11 April 1926 at 7 a.m., 1215 W. 9^th Street, Wilmington, Del. Cause of death myocarditis

Andrew Willis of Washington County – Revisited

Several years ago, a researcher asked if Andrew Willis, a Revolutionary War pensioner who died in 1823 in Washington County, Maryland, was descended from the immigrant John Willis of “Wantage” in Dorchester County. I published an article concluding we could not make that connection. Now, thanks to Sherry Taylor’s investigation of her Willis lines, it turns out we were wrong! Revolutionary War muster rolls, pension files, census records, deeds, and probate filings establish that Washington County Andrew was a brother of Jarvis Willis, another Revolutionary War veteran and a proved descendant of Wantage John. Also, a tip of the hat to David McIntire, a researcher who almost nailed this years ago. Below is the revised article; the original has been sent to the trash.

The Question

Washington County Andrew was a Revolutionary War veteran who received a pension for service as a private in the 5^th Regiment of the Maryland Line. There are five men named Andrew who were descended from Wantage John Willis and alive during the relevant period. Was one of those five the same man as the pensioner in Washington County? This article describes Washington County Andrew’s nuclear family and his geographic location. It then looks at each of the five men to see if they fit the facts about Washington County Andrew — his family makeup, geographic location, and military service. A bust on any of the three parameters means that particular person was not the same man as Washington County Andrew.

Washington County Andrew – The Facts

Andrew Willis first appears in Washington County, Maryland in the 1800 census. That census lists him with (presumably) a wife, three sons, and two daughters.[1] The 1810 census shows him with the same family members.[2]

In 1812, Edward Willis (who is proved as Andrew’s son) purchased a small tract of land in Washington County on Antietam Creek.[3] His father was about 60 years old at that time. Edward may have purchased land his father had been renting and effectively became the head of household.

In 1818, Andrew applied for a pension. He stated he had served in the Maryland Fifth Regiment, had resided in Washington County for about twenty years, was 66 years old (thus born about 1752), was a laborer but unable to work, owned no home of his own, was impoverished, and his wife was old and frail. He said they lived with a son whom he did not identify.[4] He was awarded a pension paid from 31 Mar 1818 through his death on 4 Dec 1823. His pension was then paid to his wife Lettie/Letha Willis until her death.

As expected from the pension application, the 1820 census did not list Andrew Willis. It named Edward Willis heading a household that apparently included his parents, his brother and wife, and his sister. Subsequent records provide their names: brother and sister-in-law Isaac and Nancy, and sister Elizabeth.[5]

Edward died intestate in 1825 with a very small estate and no widow or children.[6] Under Maryland law, his estate went to his surviving parent(s) or to his siblings and their heirs if his parents were deceased. In 1829, Edward’s heirs sold the Antietam Creek land. The sellers were Hezekiah Donaldson and his wife Sarah, Nehemiah Hurley and his wife Elizabeth, and Isaac Willis and his wife Nancy.[7]

Edward’s mother did not participate in the sale, so she had already died. Sarah Donaldson, Elizabeth Hurley, and Isaac Willis were Edward’s living sisters and brother. Anyone not included in the deed could not have been a surviving sibling or child of a deceased sibling. That eliminates as possible siblings two Willis males who lived concurrently in Washington County.[8] Also, an unnamed son of Andrew and Lettie who appears in the 1800 and 1810 censuses but is absent from the 1820 census must have died without heirs. Otherwise, he, his spouse, or their child would have participated in the 1829 sale.

The facts prove Washington County Andrew’s nuclear family, as follows:

Andrew Willis b 1752 d 1823

His wife:

Lettie LNU Willis b 1756-65 d before 1829

Their children:

Edward Willis b 1785-90 d 1825

Isaac Willis b 1791-94 d after 1850

Sarah Willis b 1791-94 m in 1818 to Hezekiah Donaldson[9]

Son FNU Willis b 1791-99 d before 1820 Census

Elizabeth Willis b 1800 m between 1820-25 to Nehemiah Hurley

Their daughter-in-law:

Nancy LNU b abt. 1790 m before 1820 to Isaac Willis

The evidence also proves Andrew resided in Washington County from at least 1800 until his death in 1823. The only evidence of his residence prior to that is his army service. The Fifth Maryland Regiment recruited from the counties of Queen Anne’s, Kent, Caroline, and Dorchester on the Eastern Shore. He was almost certainly from one of those counties.

By 1830, the family disappeared from Washington County. After Andrew, Lettie, and Edward died, the surviving family members moved to Ohio. In 1850, son Isaac Willis applied for a grant of land in Ohio based on Andrew’s service in the war. Isaac filed on behalf of himself and the other heirs of Andrew Willis.[10]

Finding the Right Andrew Willis

Five descendants of Wantage John Willis who were alive during and after the war are candidates to be the same man as Washington County Andrew. Two were from Caroline County and three from Dorchester. They are shown below in bold face type in an abbreviated descendants’ chart showing their relationship to Wantage John. We will hunt for the man whose family matches the one above and who was in the right place to match Washington County Andrew’s residency and military service.

1) John “Wantage John” Willis d 1712

Caroline County Descendants:

2) John “Marshy Creek John” Willis d 1764

3) John “The Elder” Willis

4) Andrew “Friendship Andrew” Willis d about 1778

5) Andrew No.1 Willis

3) Isaac Willis

4) Andrew No. 2 Willis

Dorchester County Descendants:

2) Andrew “New Town” Willis d. 1738

3) Andrew No. 3 Willis

4) Andrew No. 4 Willis

3) John “New Town” Willis

4) Andrew No. 5 Willis

4) Jarvis Willis

Spoiler Alert!

Andrew Nos. 1 – 3 each had a nuclear family that did not match Washington County Andrew’s. Andrew No. 4 was too young to have served in the war. We can eliminate each (detail shown at the end of the article) and turn to Andrew No. 5, who must have been the same man as Washington County Andrew.

Andrew No. 5

Andrew No. 5 was the possible son of a John Willis in Dorchester County. John who inherited part of a tract called New Town as a contingent devisee when his brother George died. John did not pass New Town to any of his children; he sold it in 1784.[11] That might indicate none of his heirs were interested in the land, or they had moved away.

We know that one proved son , Jarvis Willis, did so. Jarvis served in the army during the revolution and moved to North Carolina after the war.[12] He joined the regular army on 17 Feb 1777, served three years as a Corporal, and was discharged 14 Feb 1780 at Morristown, New Jersey.[13] He then appeared in Stokes County, North Carolina before 1790. Significantly, an Andrew Willis in Dorchester County enlisted in the same regiment and the same company on the same day as Jarvis and was discharged with him at the same place on the same day.[14] Surely, these men were brothers. Jarvis appeared in the Dorchester County 1783 Tax Assessment with no land and eight people in his household.[15]

Jarvis and Andrew showed up in Stokes County, North Carolina by about 1790. That census listed Jarvis Willis with a family of eight, matching his earlier household. Andrew Willis was not in that census but appeared on a Stokes County tax roll in 1791 with 250 acres of land.[16] Jarvis was listed on the same tax roll in the same district. He and Andrew may have shared the land. The 1792 tax roll showed Andrew’s acreage reduced to 200 acres, and Jarvis held 50. On a later roll, Jarvis had 125 acres, half Andrew’s original amount.

By 1793, Stokes County listed Andrew as “insolvent” and owing £5.10 in taxes.[17] Usually, this meant the party had abandoned their land and left the county. Where did he go? If he is the same man as Washington County Andrew, he took his family and retraced their steps 300 miles up the Great Wagon Road to Washington County, Maryland where he appeared in the census in 1800 and applied for a pension in 1818. Such reverse migrations were not common. I usually question the validity of any claim that someone migrated “backwards.”

In this case, the identical army service of Jarvis and Washington County Andrew outweigh any hesitancy about reverse migration. The date of enrollment is especially important. Officers of each company personally enlisted men to fill their ranks. For an officer to enroll two men on the same date meant the men almost certainly were in the same place when they signed up. There was no person more likely to be in the same location as Jarvis Willis on their enrollment date in February 1777 than a brother. With no other Andrew in the vicinity that seals the deal.[18]

Conclusion

Evidence about family makeup eliminates the first three men from being Washington County Andrew. Inability to have served in the army because of his youth rules out the fourth. We have no evidence of the fifth Andrew’s family on the Eastern Shore to compare to the Washington County family. However, there is strong circumstantial evidence implying Jarvis Willis is the brother of the fifth Andrew. His connections to Jarvis are significant – they enrolled in the same Continental Line company at the same time, served for three years, left the army on the same date, and later appeared together and may have shared land in Stokes County, North Carolina. Then Andrew Willis left at just the right time to arrive in Washington County to appear in the census there and to file a pension application. I conclude that the Andrew in Washington County is the brother of the veteran Jarvis Willis and therefore a descendant of Wantage John Willis.

The Descendant Andrews Eliminated

Andrew No. 1

An Andrew Willis acquired land in Caroline County called Friendship Regulated in 1754. After Andrew’s death, his son Thomas distributed the land to his siblings according to his father’s oral instructions. Son Andrew No. 1 received 87½ acres.[19] The Supply Tax List of 1783 shows him in possession of that land with a household of five males and five females. A year later, Andrew No. 1 and his wife Sarah sold the land and did not appear in Caroline County again.[20] Their family, apparently four sons and four daughters (all born before 1783), are too old to be the Washington County family in which no child was born before 1785. Andrew No. 1 is not the same man as Washington County Andrew.

Andrew No. 2

Andrew No. 2 was the son of Isaac Willis and seems at first a likely candidate to be the same man as Washington County Andrew. After all, Washington County Andrew named one of his sons Isaac. Further, Andrew No. 2 disappeared from Caroline County before the 1800 census. Could he have moved to Washington County?

Sure. But the 1783 Supply Tax Assessment in Caroline County shows this Andrew with a household of one male and three females. That does not fit the Washington County family where the male children were older than the females and where no child was born before 1785. This rules out this man as Washington County Andrew.[21]

Andrew No. 3

Andrew No. 3 acquired about 60 acres in 1781.[22] He had that land in the 1783 Supply Tax Assessment for Dorchester County along with a household of seven people. Like the others we have examined, he had children born before 1783, while Washington County Andrew had none that old. He cannot be Washington County Andrew.

Andrew No. 4

Andrew No. 3 had a son, Andrew No. 4, to whom he devised the 60 acres. Andrew No. 4 was born in 1768.[23] He was the right age to have a young family in Washington County, but he was too young to have been in the war as a private. He was only nine when Washington County Andrew enlisted in the regular army and only fifteen when the war ended. He cannot be Washington County Andrew, either.

Again, thank you Sherry Taylor for your work on the Willis lines. Next, I must write about Jarvis Willis, who was Sherry’s primary interest. She is descended from one of Jarvis’s daughters! But I had to correct this article about Andrew first.

______

[1] 1800 Census Washington County, MD. The listing for Andrew Willis includes a man and woman 26-44 years old with two males under 10, one male age 10-15, and two females under 10. Note that if Andrew was born in 1752 per his pension application, the census understates his age by four years, which is not an unusual discrepancy.

[2] 1810 Census Washington County, MD. Ages of all family members track to the next appropriate age category except for the youngest daughter, who remains less than 10. She may have been an infant in 1800 and was 10 years old in 1810. Or, she may have died before 1810 and the census lists a new daughter.

[3] Washington County, MD Deed Book Y: 439.

[4] See Pension File S35141. Andrew stated he could not remember the exact dates but thought he enrolled in 1778 and was discharged in 1781. He was off by one year on both dates, according to official records.

[5] 1820 Census, Washington County, MD shows Edward Willis’s household with two men age 26-44 and one over 45, one female 15-25, one 26-44, and one over 45. The older man and woman are Andrew Willis and his wife Lettie. The two younger men are their sons Edward and Isaac. The youngest female is their daughter Elizabeth. The woman age 26-44 is Isaac’s wife Nancy LNU.

[6] Washington County, MD Bond Book C: 427 and Administrative Accounts Book 7: 413. Nehemiah Hurley was administrator, Nehemiah Hurley, Hezekiah Donaldson and Isaac Willis were bondsmen.

[7] Washington County, MD Deed Book KK: 610.

[8] William Willis and Levin Willis, who appear in census and deed records of the era, were not Edward’s brothers.

[9] Morrow, Dale W., Marriages of Washington County, Maryland, Volume 1, 1799-1830, (Traces: Hagerstown, MD, 1977), D64.

[10] 31 Dec 1850 letter from Bennington & Cowan, St. Clairsville, Belmont County, Ohio on behalf of Isaac Willis, online at Fold 3 pension file S35141 of Andrew Willis. Isaac knew his father was from the Eastern Shore of Maryland but was not sure of the county. He thought it might have been Kent. However, there is no Kent County Andrew. He also thought Andrew’s company commander was named Bentley. That was close. It was Benson.

[11] Dorchester County, MD Deed Book NH 2:546. John Willis sold to Levin Hughes. No signature of a wife, so she is presumed deceased. Also, at NH 2:88 Mary Willis Meekins, widow of Benjamin, sold in 1782 her half of New Town. Both shares originated with Andrew Willis, died 1738, who devised half each to sons Richard and George. George’s share descended to his brother John upon George’s untimely death. Richard willed his share to his daughter Mary who married Benjamin Meekins.

[12] Palmer, 19. 6 Dec 1758, Jarvey [Jarvis] Willis, parents John and Nancy Willis.

[13] Archives of Maryland, Muster Rolls and Other Records of Service of Maryland Troops in the American Revolution, 1775-1783, (Baltimore: Maryland Historical Society, 1900), 254. Corporal Jarvis Willis and Private Andrew Willis listed with identical enrollment and discharge dates. https://archive.org/details/musterrollsother00mary

[14] Roll of Lt Perry Benson’s Company, 5^th Maryland Regiment of Foot in the service of the United States commanded by Colonel William Richardson, 8 Sep 1778. Corporal Jarvis Willis and Private Andrew Willis appear on the same roster, both sick in hospital.

[15] Andrew did not appear in the tax list. Neither Jarvis nor Andrew appeared in the 1790 census in Dorchester.

[16] Harvey, Iris Moseley, Stokes County, North Carolina Tax List, 1791, (Raleigh, NC, 1998), 11. There is no record showing how Andrew or Jarvis acquired the land.

[17] Harvey, Iris Moseley, Stokes County, North Carolina Tax List, 1793, (Raleigh, NC, 1998), 43

[18] The only other person close by was Andrew No.4 who was nine years old, too young to have been enlisted as a private.

[19] Caroline County, MD Deed Book GFA: 269, 1778

[20] Caroline County, MD Deed Book GFA: 777, 1784

[21] 1790 Census Caroline County, MD lists Andrew Willis with a household inconsistent with the 1783 Tax List. The household has five males age 16 or older, six males under 16, four females, and one slave. Possibly, this is several families living together. In any event it does not match the Washington County family.

[22] Dorchester County, MD Deed Book 28 Old 356. Andrew Willis purchased 59½ acres from Mary and Benjamin Meekins. The tract was originally owned by Henry Fisher and may have been called Fisher’s Venture in the 1783 Supply Tax Assessment.

[23] Palmer, Katherine H., Old Trinity Church, Dorchester Parish, Church Creek, MD, Birth Register, (Cambridge , MD) 19. 12 Feb 1768, Andrew Willis, parents Andrew and Sarah Willis.

John Mason Rankin letters: the real deal!

I reluctantly surfaced from a deep sleep when the cell phone rang. I looked at my watch. 3:00 a.m. It could only be one person: Spade, the family history detective. He digs up dead relatives, including Rankin relatives.

Yep, that’s the name that appeared on caller ID. I flopped back onto my pillow and waited for the phone to quit ringing. The old reprobate could just leave a message. He was probably loaded with Cutty.

Five seconds after it quit, the phone rang again. Voicemail messages are not Spade’s style. I capitulated.

What the hell could possibly be so urgent that it can’t wait until a decent hour, like 6:30 a.m.? said I.

IS IT TRUE? he asked, with considerable asperity.

I sighed. Is WHAT true?

I talked to Gams this evening. (She is also a Rankin researcher and a friend of Spade’s and mine). She claims you found copies of the John Mason Rankin letters from the 1850s in a library in San Augustine, Texas. IS THAT TRUE, and why didn’t you tell me?

My patience, if any, vanished, along with my lovely sleep.

Spade, how long has it been since you checked your damn snail mail?

Silence. That evidently took him by surprise, which is no small feat with Spade.

I repeat, how long has it been since you checked your $!#@!!&*% mailbox?

Another long-ish pause. I dunno, he said. That mailbox down the street is a pain because I can never remember where I left the key.

I now had the upper hand, and we both knew it.

Here’s the deal, Spade. Listen carefully. I’m going back to sleep. I will get up at 6:30 when the alarm goes off. Then I will turn on the coffeemaker, have two or three cups, and scan the New York Times and Guardian. You, meanwhile, will go pick up your snail mail and see what I’ve sent to you. By then, it will be 8:30 or so. You can call me at nine, the universally accepted earliest decent hour to call someone.

I hung up. For good measure, I reset the alarm for 7:00 am, rolled over and went back to sleep.

At 9:30, the phone rang. He was uncharacteristically pleasant.

Thank you for sending copies of those letters to me! Do the actual letters, rather than the transcriptions we’ve had, change our minds about anything? Who does John Mason identify as the father of Adam Rankin who died in 1747?

I paused before replying. As you NOW know, the 1854 letter says that Adam’s father was also named Adam. So we are still left with a glaring inconsistency between the letter and John Mason Rankin’s Bible, which says Adam’s father was named William.

Oops! he said. I guess I forgot to tell you. He actually sounded contrite. Robert Rankin of McAllen, Texas, the owner of the original letters, told me he thinks John Mason Rankin (JMR) made an error in the letter. He believes the Bible entry, which matches JMR’s handwriting, is correct.

He continued. Also, the Bible was printed in 1813, making it nearly as old as JMR himself. It is probably the Bible he refers to when he says “my father’s Bible.” The earliest entries, including the genealogy, are probably from 1836, around the time his mother died. One would think that SHE provided much of the copious detail on the family, including the fact that Adam’s father was named William. That leads me to believe that when JMR refers to “my father’s Bible” in his letter, he is talking about the 1813 Bible and quoting his own writing. And information from his mother, which obviously has a great deal of credibility.

I thought for a moment. That all made sense to me, even if some of it was speculative. OK, let me see if I can sum up what we have concluded about Adam from JMR’s documents and our own research. I am accepting his information as the gospel truth, except on the inconsequential matters where we know he erred:

The Adam Rankin who died in 1747 was a son of William Rankin, who moved from Scotland to Ireland. Despite speculation by some, there is no evidence in the records that William came to the Colonies, and JMR doesn’t claim that he did.

Adam had brothers John and Hugh and a sister Jane. *** RRW NOTE: the John Rankin who died in Lancaster in 1749 was NOT Adam’s brother, according to Y-DNA tests. That contradicts the conventional wisdom, which has long held the two were brothers.

In 1720, Adam and Hugh came to the Colonies. Adam was then married to Elizabeth May, who died shortly after they arrived. He then married “Mrs. Steele,” who is proved in county records to be Mary Steele Alexander, widow of James Alexander.

Adam and Mary Steele Rankin had three sons, James, William and Jeremiah, as well as a daughter not mentioned by JMR. James was therefore NOT, as some have speculated, a son of Elizabeth May.

Adam died in 1750, says JMR, although county records prove he died in 1747.

JMR goes on to provide considerable detail about the family of Adam’s son Jeremiah and his wife Rhoda Craig, JMR’s grandparents.

I ran out of steam. We were silent for a moment.

You have left out the most important thing, he said. He continued:

The JMR letters and Bible do not make any mention of the so-called “Mt. Horeb legend,” which contains the story about Rankin family martyrs during the Killing Times in Scotland. This undoubtedly means the legend was NOT a part of John Mason Rankin’s family history!!!

I thought about it. There is no way a family with so much detail in their oral history would omit something that momentous.

You’re absolutely right, Spade. That’s brilliant! Of course, there can’t be less than 500 trees on the internet which continue to assert incorrectly that the Mt. Horeb legend applies to both Adam and John. To the extent the legend contains any truth at all, it must apply to John’s line but not Adam’s.

There is nothing like a little flattery to restore Spade’s hubris.

OK, doll, he said, your next job is to contact all those online tree owners and point out the error of their ways.

And with that, he hung up. I hate it when he beats me to it.

I will transcribe the two letters and post them. That’s probably not necessary, since the available transcriptions are likely substantially accurate. I’ll do it anyway. Eventually.

That is all. See you on down the road.

Robin

A Field of Dreams – Dr. Henry Noble Willis (1865-1926)

Dr. Archibald W. “Moonlight” Graham of “Field of Dreams” fame did not play a half-inning of baseball for the Pocomoke City Salamanders of the Eastern Shore amateur league. And neither did Dr. Henry Noble Willis. But Doc Willis was the team manager in 1892, maybe longer. During his tenure, he was not involved in any time travel that we know of. His trips with the team seem to have been limited to neighboring towns in Worcester and surrounding counties. However, that travel just might have helped him find a second wife after the mother of his two young children died unexpectedly. But I am ahead of myself.

Back to the Beginning

Henry Noble Willis was born in Preston, Caroline County, Maryland on 23 Dec 1865.[1] He was baptized at age 20 months on 16 Aug 1867 at Hubbard Farm a few miles north of Preston.[2] The occasion was likely a Methodist revival or encampment of some sort. Ten children from several families were baptized at the event. Henry was the fourth child and only son of Dr. Henry F. Willis (1831-1890) and Emily Rumbold Patton (1836-1921). Two of his sisters died young — Cora (1857-1875) and Emma (1862-1863). Only Mary (1860-1941) lived well into adulthood.

The Noble Name

As noted in an earlier article Henry’s middle name seems to have been borrowed from a family highly regarded by the elder Dr. Willis rather than coming from a marriage between the two families. The most likely person is Twiford S. Noble.[3] Mr. Noble was a decade older than Henry F. Willis. Was he a mentor? Both were trustees of Bethesda Methodist Episcopal (now United Methodist) Church in Preston and were possibly friends before that.[4] When Twiford’s son Jacob graduated from medical school in 1876, Dr. Willis took him into his practice for a while before Jacob moved to Dorchester County and established his own practice.[5] Whatever the reason for its adoption, the Willis family has used Noble as a first or middle name for five generations of men beginning with Henry Noble Willis.[6]

Little is known of Henry’s early life in Preston. He attended local public schools and then Williamsport College (now Lycoming College) in Lycoming County, Pennsylvania. He then went to the University of Maryland College of Medicine in Baltimore, graduating in 1888 as a medical doctor.[7]

He had an obvious sense of humor. He wrote on the back of a photo taken while in medical school, “When you get sick, go have your picture taken. Be sure you are ugly a ton and break the camera at each sitting.”[8]

Moving On

Like his father, young Henry looked outside Caroline County to begin his medical practice. He went further south on the Delmarva Peninsula to Pocomoke City in Worcester County. At the time, Pocomoke City was more than ten times the size of Preston.[9] It makes sense that he opted for a location with more potential patients. The young doctor may have been invited to Pocomoke by Dr. John T. B. McMaster (1828-1889). He had graduated in 1850 from the same medical school and had become a prominent citizen of the region.[10] However, Dr. McMaster was apparently not in good health at the time. He died about a year after Henry arrived in Pocomoke City.[11] It is possible that Henry took over the elder doctor’s practice. Henry definitely was close to the McMasters. He and Mary E. McMaster, the youngest daughter of the family, married on 28 Oct 1890 at Beaver Dam Presbyterian Church in Pocomoke City.[12]

Henry and Mary had two children – Mary Catherine born 9 Jul 1891 and Harry McMaster born 27 Jul 1893.[13] Like Dr. McMaster, Henry’s father did not live to see the wedding or his grandchildren. The elder Dr. Willis died six months before the wedding. Young Henry went back to Preston to help administer his father’s estate along with his brother-in-law Joshua B. Clark.[14] (See this link). The elder Henry Willis had died intestate. Son Henry and his sister were each entitled to half the estate after their mother’s right to one third. Shortly thereafter, Henry purchased a house and lot on Second Street in Pocomoke City.[15] Mary McMaster Willis was also the beneficiary of an inheritance. Her father devised his half-acre homestead lot in Pocomoke City to his wife, who gifted the property to her four surviving children.[16] In 1893, the four divided the property with Mary and Henry Willis receiving a small part that contained an office building.[17]Henry may have established a drug store in the building. In 1896, he purchased soda fountain equipment of the type common in ice cream parlors or at drug store counters.[18]

Baseball

In addition to his medical practice and possibly running a drug store, Dr. Henry N. Willis managed the town’s amateur baseball team. An 1892 photo of the Pocomoke City baseball team with Dr. Willis as manager appeared in the local newspaper.[19] Some team members appear to be high school students, others young adults. This was typical of the era – think “Field of Dreams” – when towns fielded amateur teams for friendly competition.[20] Other towns with teams in the Eastern Shore League included those nearby, such as Crisfield in Somerset County, and others some distance away, such as Cambridge in Dorchester County.[21] As the competition grew more intense, some towns employed “ringers” – semipro or college athletes – to bolster their teams. We do not know if Henry cheated in this manner. Had he managed long enough and were so inclined, however, he might have gotten help from “Moonlight” Graham. You see, Archie Graham also went to medical school at the University of Maryland graduating in 1905. He played several sports including baseball.[22] We can imagine that for a few bucks he might have caught a train from Baltimore to help out the Pocomoke City team, especially if asked by a doctor from the same school.

Tragedy Followed by Good Fortune

The family suffered a devastating blow in 1898 when Henry’s wife died, leaving two children ages seven and five.[23] They were not without a mother for long. Henry remarried on 7 Sep 1899, less than a year after Mary’s death.[24] His bride was Jessie Sensor, the eighteen year-old daughter of Rev. George Guyer Sensor (1852-1913) and Julia Frances Mendenhall 1857-1941). The reverend was the Methodist minister of several churches in the region, conducting services in Pocomoke City and Crisfield in Maryland and Accomack in Virginia. We do not know how Henry and Jessie met. Possibly Jessie accompanied her father on his Sunday visits to Pocomoke. However, Henry’s affiliation through the McMaster family had been with local Presbyterian churches rather than Methodists. I like to think that they met because of his travels to Crisfield with the baseball team. In any event, they were married in Somerset County, so we can assume it was at the Crisfield Methodist Church with her father officiating.

It must have been quite a challenge for Jessie becoming the stepmother of two children, especially being only eleven years older than her stepdaughter! But that will have to wait for the second part of this story.

_____

[1] There is no birth certificate for Henry Noble Willis, and other evidence of his birth date is inconsistent. State of Delaware, Bureau of Vital Statistics, Certificate of Death #1274 states his birth date as 23 Dec 1866 and date of death as 11 Apr 1926. However, the 1900 Federal Census shows his birth as Dec 1865. That month and year is supported by his baptism on 16 Aug 1867 at age 20 months. His tombstone indicates birth in 1865.

[2] Methodist Episcopal Church Records, Dorchester District, 16 Aug 1867, Henry Noble Willis, parents Henry and Emily Willis, age 20 months, lived near Preston, by E.G. Irwin, at Hubbard Camp, http://www.collinsfactor.com/church/mec1866baptisms.htm

[3] Another Noble family, Isaac L. and his wife Mary E Noble, was a Willis neighbor in the 1870 census. I have not found any relationship between the Willises and Isaac Noble.

[4] Email 13 Jun 2012 with Dr. Eric Cheezum, historian at Bethesda Methodist.

[5] Jensen, Dr. Christian E., MD, Lives of Caroline County Maryland Physicians, 1774 – 1984, Printed by Baker Printing Company, Denton, Maryland, 1986, 118.

[6] They are Henry Noble Willis’s son Noble Sensor Willis, grandson Gary Noble Willis, great grandson Noble Sutherland Willis, and great-great grandson Christopher Noble Willis.

[7] U.S. College Student Lists, 1763-1924 on Ancestry, University of Maryland, 1891. At p 228, H. N. Willis, 1888, MD.

[8] Photo printed on front, Richard Walzh, 205 West Balto. Street, Baltimore, 477 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, DC

[9] https://www2.census.gov/library/publications/decennial/1900/bulletins/demographic/28-population-md.pdf. Pocomoke City population in 1900 was 2,124 versus 192 for Preston.

[10] U.S. College Student Lists, 1763-1924 on Ancestry, University of Maryland, 1891. At p 212, John T. B. McMaster, 1850, MD

[11] McMaster died 27 Aug 1889 per Find a Grave, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/160117722/john_thomas_bayly_mcmaster

[12] Dryden, Ruth T., Lower Eastern Shore Maryland Marriages (including the counties of Somerset, Worcester, Wicomico) 1865-1906; Compiler and Publisher: Ruth T. Dryden, San Diego, CA, 1991, 527. Willis, Henry N, 24, McMasters, Mary E., 23, 28 Oct 1890, Wor.

[13] Social Security Death Index provides the birth date for each.

[14] Caroline County Administrations Key, online at Family Search, 169. Widow Emily P. Willis and daughter Mary W. Clark renounced their right of administration of the estate of Henry F. Willis. Letters of Administration granted to son Henry N. Willis and son-in-law Joshua B. Clark with bond of $5,000 and securities Jeremiah B. Fletcher and Robert Patton [GNW Note: Robert Patton is Emily’s brother]

[15] https://mdlandrec.net/main/. Worcester County, Maryland Deed Book FHP 1:116. 28 Sep 1890, Henry N Willis purchased for $350 from Samuel F Farlow et al a lot on the west side of Second Street with all improvements.

[16] https://mdlandrec.net/main/. Worcester County, Maryland Deed Book FHP 1:202. 25 Dec 1890, Elizabeth Grace McMaster (widow) conveys to her four named children for love and affection and $1.00 the McMaster Homestead lot, about a half-acre, between Market Street and Vine Street while retaining during her lifetime the right of use the property, including the right to lease but not mortgage it.

[17] https://mdlandrec.net/main/. Worcester County, Maryland Deed Book FHP 4:524. 1 Dec 1893, Harriet McMaster King and husband Herbert H. King of Pocomoke City, John S. McMaster of Jersey City, New Jersey, and Samuel B. McMaster of New York City sell to Mary E. Willis wife of Henry N. Willis for $1.00 the southwest part of the McMaster Homestead with 30 feet fronting on Market Street by about 100 feet deep. The lot contains an office building referred to in the boundary description of a lease recorded at FHP 8:548.

[18] https://mdlandrec.net/main/. Worcester County, Maryland Deed Book FHP 7:511, 1 May 1896, Henry N Willis purchased soda fountain equipment for $166.50 from Robert M Green & Sons of Baltimore.

[19] The photo appeared in the 1955 Anniversary Edition of the local newspaper, the “Worcester Democrat,” copy of the clipping in possession of the author.

[20] See, e.g., https://libapps.salisbury.edu/nabb-online/exhibits/show/friends-rivals-baseball-delmar/early-days-of-baseball-on-the-

[21] See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastern_Shore_League. The amateur competition grew into a professional minor league in 1922.

[22] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moonlight_Graham

[23] Dryden, Ruth T., Cemetery Records of Worcester County, Maryland, reprint by Heritage Books, 2013, p. 202. Mary E. McMaster Willis died 19 May 1898 with burial in Pitt’s Creek Presbyterian Church Cemetery, Pocomoke City, Maryland.

[24] Dryden, Ruth T., Lower Eastern Shore Maryland Marriages (including the counties of Somerset, Worcester, Wicomico) 1865-1906; San Diego, CA, 1991, 527. Willis, Henry, 34 w(idower), Senser, Jessie, 18, 7 Sep 1899, Somerset.

The Man Who Killed Jane Campbell

Here is the latest contribution from my friend Spade. Good stuff, as usual. Enjoy!

_________________

I was in my office on Powell Street when I heard a noise at the door. I got up and looked out. Nobody there. Down at my feet I saw a piece of paper. It was a page torn from a manuscript about a family named “Spear”.[i] From what I could make out, it was about a guy named Andrew Spear who was a member of the Upper West Conococheague Presbyterian Church in Franklin County, PA. The words “He married Jane Campbell” were circled with a Sharpie and somebody had written “I just killed your sixth great-grandmother!” I stuck my head out the window. There was nobody but a bunch of out-of-towners jumping on and off the cable car. I sniffed. “Not likely,” I thought, “And what kind of idiot writes with a Sharpie anyway?”

The name’s Spade. Like the tool you use for digging up dead relatives. I’m a Rankin — a descendant of Adam Rankin,[ii] to be precise. Adam left Ulster for Maryland sometime before 1720, married Mary Steele, widow of James “The Carpenter” Alexander, and had three sons and a daughter. He died in 1747, and left his eldest son James a tract of land that backed on Two Top Mountain at a spot called “The Corner,” a little south of Mercersburg, Pennsylvania.

James Rankin, not Andrew Spear, was married to Jane Campbell. Or so the evidence suggested. William Campbell, a close neighbor of James, had made a will in 1776 naming his daughter “Jane Rankin”.[iii] James’s 1788 will named his wife “Jean Rankin”,[iv] but “Jane” and “Jean” were just alternate spellings of the same name back in those days. After James died sometime before 1794, Jane took a warrant in the name “Jane Rankin” on the tract back up the side of Two Top Mountain.[v] No doubt about it: Jane Campbell was James Rankin’s wife. They had six kids between about 1750 and 1762, four boys and two girls, one named James who was my ancestor. They all spent Sundays over at the Upper West Conococheague Presbyterian Church.

Still… there was something about that Andrew Spear story that nagged at me. William Campbell’s will had also named three grandchildren named Speer (as he spelled it): Edward, William and Frances. I’d figured they were the children of some unnamed daughter who died before William did. Now I felt like I had to prove it. I poured myself a stiff shot of Cutty Sark and rolled up my sleeves. It was time to go Spear fishing.

When I’m looking for a mystery spouse, I always like to check around the neighborhood.[vi] Sure enough, a guy named Edward Spear had been granted a warrant in 1755 for a tract kitty-corner from James Rankin.[vii] When I found his will,[viii] though, I realized he couldn’t be the right guy. He’d died not two years later leaving his estate to his children Benjamin, Andrew and Eleanor.

I kept flipping through the will book and found Benjamin Spear’s will a few pages on.[ix] It was dated 6 Mar 1764 with letters testamentary issued 8 Nov 1764. The will was witnessed by James Rankin. Dougal Campbell, brother of Jane Campbell, was named as executor, along with another neighbor named John Kyle. Benjy had no wife or kids, so he’d left his property to brother Andrew and sister Eleanor, and five pounds to his nephew, Edward Spear. That had to be the same Edward Spear named as a grandson by William Campbell. Andrew was the father of those three grandchildren alright. Now who was the mother?

I couldn’t find a will for Andrew, but it turned out I didn’t need one. He’d died intestate and letters of administration had been granted to his widow.[x] I cursed when I saw her name: Jane Spear. But maybe this was a different Andrew Spear and that was a different Jane? “Andrew Spear” couldn’t have been that uncommon a name. Then I noticed the date the letters were issued: 8 Nov 1764. The same date letters testamentary were issued for Benjamin Spear. Jane and Dougal must have gone to court together and killed two birds with one stone.

Damn. Jane Campbell really had married Andrew Spear. She couldn’t have married James Rankin until after 1764, which was after all of his kids were already born. James’s first wife must have died not that long before, and he was Johnny-on-the-spot to console the grieving widow.

That joker with the Sharpie really had killed off my sixth great-grandmother. It left a hole the size of the Stockton tunnel in my family tree. It was going to take some time to fill that hole. I needed another shot of Cutty.

* * * * *

[i] See chart here.. The source has numerous errors and should be used only for evidence that even bad genealogy sometimes contains a grain of truth.

[ii] A descendancy chart for Adam Rankin can be found at this link. The author has attempted to catalog all descendants who bore the name “Rankin” and their spouses, and to connect spouses to their parents and other spouses to the extent possible. Sources have been attached to support vital dates and relationships whenever possible. Records without sources, as well as names and dates more precise than supported by the sources, are not endorsed by the author, but were left in place in hope that supporting evidence may turn up in the future. The tree at FamilySearch is essentially a wiki: a single tree shared by all users and subject to frequent error and alteration. Accordingly, all personal records and relationships there should be treated with skepticism when not supported by primary sources.

[iii] Franklin County, PA, Will Book A, p. 108. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/QPRR-N8J?context.

[iv] Franklin County, PA, Will Book A, p. 345. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/QPRL-2TC?context.

[v] Franklin County warrants R46 to Jane Rankin dated 1 Apr 1794. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/7NJS-WG3?context.

[vi] The best way to check out the neighborhood of Montgomery Township is a Google Earth project called “Early Land Surveys of Montgomery Township.” https://earth.google.com/web/@39.78528401,-77.9018602,183.73397146a,33386.66955467d,30y,0h,0t,0r/data=CgRCAggBMikKJwolCiExdXc2aWlUdDBTTVlGYUUzMWlfZzZvSmE0aG1ubU1jZXIgAUICCABKCAijrpruAhAB. This is a virtual plat map showing the name of each landholder with links to land surveys.

[vii] Cumberland County warrants S51 to Edward Speer dated 3 Feb 1755. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/person/memories/GWM6-YMC. Franklin County was created from Cumberland County in 1784.

[viii] Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, Will Book A, Page 27. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/7NWH-C7D?context.

[ix] Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, Will Book A, Page 80. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/7NW8-TGS?context.

[x] Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, Administrators Book, Vol. A, Page 60. https://www.familysearch.org/en/tree/sources/viewedit/7NW6-ZFP?context.

Spade strikes again: John Mason Rankin’s information

UPDATE: I finally did make it to San Augustine, Texas. I found xerox copies of the letters in the very nice little library there, along with a librarian who went out of her way to find Rankin information for us. Yes, the letters are genuine. Yes, the handwriting matches the early entries in John Mason Rankin’s letter. Robert Rankin of McAllen was the owner of that treasure trove, and he says that he erred when he ID’d Adam Rankin’s father as ADAM. He believes Adam’s father was named WILLIAM. None of that changes Spade’s conclusions and mine about the Mt. Horeb Legend.

And here is the original post.

__________________________

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

Take Your Pick: a Testate or an Intestate Ancestor?

I’ve been looking for a subject of general interest rather than a topic concerning one of my ancestral lines. Two friends had similar questions about an ancestor’s estate administration that led me to this topic. It should be short and sweet.

Let’s start with a definition. An “intestate” is someone who dies without leaving a will. On the other hand, someone who leaves a will has died “testate,” and, as you might guess, is called a “testator.”

Which would you prefer? My choice any old day is for a man to die without leaving a will — provided, that is, that he owns property. If he does not, he is unlikely to leave significant records behind. Or to have left a will.

The problem with wills? I imagine we have all seen one in which the testator leaves his entire estate to be divided equally “among all my children,” without naming them. Or the testator names only his “son Joseph,” his “other children” (not named, and number of kids not stated) already provided for. That was Daniel Winn’s will (Lunenburg Co., Virginia Will Book 4:264). Turned out there were nine other children, and proving them was not by any means a cakewalk. Or the testator mentions a wife, without stating her name. ‘Nuf said.

I am not being sexist by referring to intestate men, above. Since we are usually dealing in this hobby with persons living prior to the twentieth century, a property-owning female was rare as hen’s teeth. That is because married women in English common law (i.e., in every state but Louisiana, which is sui generis and beyond my ken) were subject to the disability of “coverture.” In short, that meant a married woman had no legal existence apart from her husband. Absent a prenuptial agreement, she could not own property, even if she inherited it. Her husband inherited any property left to her “in right of his wife,” a phrase you may have run across in court records. A married woman could not even bid at an estate auction, because she lacked the legal capacity to enter into a contract — which is what a winning bid at auction produces.

Nor am I kvetching, although coverture is obviously a fertile field for righteous indignation. Coverture produces valuable genealogical information from time to time. For example, when you find a woman who has purchased something at an estate auction, you can be sure she was single. Likewise, when a man named Edmund Bacon is a party to a lawsuit concerning the estate of Washington Winn, it is a red flag that Edmund Bacon’s wife was one of Washington’s heirs, and possibly née Winn.

Time for another definition: “heir.” We genealogists are prone to conflate heirs, beneficiaries, and devisees. Even clerks of court confuse these terms from time to time.

….. a “beneficiary” is someone who receives a gift (“bequest”) of personal property in a will. Prior to the Civil War Amendments, personal property included enslaved persons.[1]

….. a “devisee” is someone who receives a gift (“devise”) of real property — land– in a will. Any property that is not real estate is personal property. Stocks, intellectual property rights, cars and boats, furniture, you name it.

….. an “heir” is someone who receives real or personal property (or both) under a state’s law of intestate descent and distribution. If a state had no such law, then the English common law system of descent and distribution applied.[2] Among other things, this means you might need to learn about the relevant jurisdiction’s law of intestate descent and distribution if you have an intestate ancestor.

Here are a few reasons why heirs — which exist only in connection with an intestate’s estate — are such wonderful treasures for genealogists.

If there is a lawsuit concerning the estate of an intestate, all the heirs must be added as parties. They will be identified in the “style” — title, in effect — of the lawsuit.[3] In the lawsuit’s original filing, usually called a petition or complaint, the residence of each of the parties is usually stated. That is so notice of the lawsuit can be given to each party.
If the intestate decedent owned land, a request to the court for permission to sell or divide it must also include all of the heirs.
Better yet, “heirs” don’t just include children. If the child of an intestate decedent has died, the child’s heirs must be made parties to a lawsuit or request concerning land. If the intestate decedent had no children (depending on the law of the relevant jurisdiction), his siblings must be parties.
But wait, there’s more! In Virginia, for example, the law of intestate descent and distribution treated half-siblings differently than siblings “of the whole blood.” This can reveal which children were the offspring of which wife if the decedent was married more than once.

If you really want to get into the weeds on this, there is an article on this blog about a lawsuit concerning the estate of a young, unmarried, and very wealthy man who had both siblings and half-siblings, as well as a mother who survived him. That lawsuit is a veritable goldmine. See it at this link. If you have a Winn, Bacon, Hix, or Hardy ancestor in Lunenburg County, Virginia circa 1800, it should be required reading.

That’s enough from me today. I haven’t practiced law in a long darn time, and I can only spend so much time withBlack’s Law Dictionary before it’s time to take a break.

See you on down the road.

Robin

[1] Just typing that gives me the creeps.

[2] We will stay out of the primogeniture morass. I have argued in vain with people who refuse to believe that one could leave a will ignoring the primogeniture rules.

[3] E.g., the style of a case might be Bush v. Gore. I don’t know why that was the first thing that popped into my mind.

The Fastest Post Ever Written

The speed of this article will be a function of how fast I can type, since I’m not going to be encumbered by a time-consuming evidentiary trail. This is coming straight out of memory. Here’s why I’m writing it …

I exchanged a few texts with one of our sons a few days ago. He sent a picture of a statue from a city he is visiting. He said it reminded him of “James Rankin.”

– Did autocorrect change “Jim” to “James,” I asked?

No response. I continued.

– If you are thinking of your grandfather, his full legal name was Jim Leigh Rankin.

I gave it some more thought.

– “Leigh” is pronounced “LAY,” not “LEE.”

– “Right!” he responded.

This gave me a jolt: perhaps I have not kept my genealogical eye on the ball. I have written a ton of articles about Rankins. However, I have evidently failed to tell my sons much about their Rankins — to the point that one son didn’t know his Rankin grandfather’s actual name.

Perhaps I have not written about my father because it is so personal. I adored him, as will soon become obvious. Whatever. Here is his story, and I will strive not to libel too many of his relatives.

* * * * * *

Jim Leigh Rankin about 1955

If I just stick to the facts, his story will be short and sweet. He was born in rural north Louisiana, grew up poor, went to work, married, had one child, was successful, retired, and died.

Well, perhaps that is a bit spare, since it applies to a great many people. As I consider it, though, his life to me was a series of vignettes. A very quiet man, he said little. I can count on my digits the number of long-ish talks I had with him, and I wouldn’t be in any danger of running out of fingers. I learned about him mostly from observation and stories from other people.

Here’s a better outline. He was born in 1907 in Cotton Valley, Webster Parish, Louisiana. He grew up in Gibsland, Bienville Parish, which is famous only for being near the place where Bonnie and Clyde were shot. That part of North Louisiana probably hasn’t changed much since the Depression. It was still pretty grim the last time I drove through the area.

He was the youngest of four siblings. The family was poor as church mice. His father, John Marvin Rankin (“Daddy Jack,” my cousins said he was called) was not a successful provider. He was briefly the Sheriff of Webster Parish, a waiter, and the driver of a dray wagon. Their home was rented. His wife, Emma Leona Brodnax Rankin (“Ma Rankin,” or just “Ma”) took in mending to help supplement whatever he earned.

I once asked Butch, a Rankin first cousin, what Daddy Jack did for a living. Butch had a quick answer: “Anything he could, hon. Anything he could.” There was an old popcorn cart stored under the rear of their house, which was built on a fairly steep slope. Daddy Jack undoubtedly peddled popcorn at one time, perhaps turning a profit when all the tourists came to gawk at the corpses of Bonnie and Clyde, laid out in the coroner’s office in Gibsland.

Prior to my father’s generation, our branch of the Rankin family hadn’t had more than two nickels to scratch together since my great-great-great-great grandfather Samuel “Old One-Eyed Sam” Rankin, a wealthy owner of land and enslaved persons, died circa 1816 in Lincoln Co., NC. My line didn’t share any of the estate’s largesse. Sam’s son Richard, from whom we descend, died in serious debt before his father.

See, this is how I go off the rails about family history. Our sons go MEGO (“my eyes glaze over”) when I spout this stuff. I will try to stay on track.

Ma Rankin was a grim, tea-totaling, Southern Baptist, charitably described by my much older cousins as “strict.” I avoided her and her stultifying, overheated house to the extent I could get away with it. She once stopped a desultory conversation dead in its tracks, a bullet through its brain, with three of her four children and several grandchildren trapped in her living room. My Uncle Louie attempted to break yet another long silence:

– well, the Russians have launched a satellite. Next they will be sending a man to the moon.

– If God had intended for man to be on the moon, pronounced Ma, He would have put him there.

Her arms were crossed. She was dead serious. My cousins and I fled to the yard, where we pelted each other with pecans. Perhaps not surprisingly, Ma’s children all turned out to be nonbelievers.

Ma Rankin was born into a wealthy family which survived losses of impressive fortunes during what some Southerners just called “the War.” Her Brodnax ancestors in this country stretch back to a couple buried in the Travis Family burying ground on Jamestown Island. In England, her line goes back to landed gentry in Kent. The Bushes also descend from the Jamestown Brodnaxes.

One of Ma Rankin’s brothers, Uncle Joe Brodnax, had the sense to acquire a bunch of mineral rights in north Louisiana. The land was located over a prolific oil and gas play. He evidently left a nice legacy to his sister Emma “Ma” Rankin. Among other things, they finally owned a house.

Daddy’s three older siblings all had college degrees. He didn’t go to college because, he explained, “the money ran out.” Presumably, he was referring to Uncle Joe’s legacy. Instead, he started playing what he called “semi-pro ball” after he graduated from high school. I took that to mean what would now be minor league professional baseball. (I wasn’t adept at the art of cross-examination when I heard these stories.) A lefty himself, he was released after a game when a left-handed pitcher struck him out in four at-bats.

He then went to work in the gas fields as a “chart changer’s helper” for a natural gas transmission company. It didn’t take someone too long to notice he was smarter than everyone else and had a prodigious, and I mean remarkable, memory. Also a marked ability for math. In the wink of an eye, he ascended the field ranks to become the Monroe area gas dispatcher. That meant he went out to the field when and as needed, 24/7/365, to open or close valves on the company’s gas transmission system.

Soon thereafter, he was transferred to the company’s headquarters in Houston, where he became the national expert on gas proration. I won’t explain what that is, because it would cause serious MEGO. Instead, I will just say that a man who worked for him for a quarter-century told me Daddy “wrote the gas proration laws for Louisiana, Texas, and Mississippi.” That was clearly an exaggeration, since he wasn’t a lawyer. But that statement contains a large element of truth. He was a regular witness testifying about gas proration before legislative committees and regulatory commissions in those states. His questioners must have been patient, because he spoke slowly and quietly, using as few words as possible.

He met my mother in Houston at the natural gas transmission company where they both worked. She was a typist/secretary in the stenography department. From time to time, she would go take dictation from him and type it up. He chewed tobacco. My mother, unaccountably, thought that was cute. They were relatively old when they married in 1936: 26 and 29. They were a decade older when they became parents for the first and only time.

Jim and Ida in Southside Place, Houston, circa 1937

His work brings a couple of vignettes to mind. I remember his frequent trips out of town. My mother and I would go see him off at the Shreveport airport — United Gas moved its headquarters there in 1940. This story is set in 1951. Eisenhower, still aglow with his WWII success, was running for President. He was making a stop in Shreveport for a campaign appearance, and the airport was packed by the time my parents and I arrived. Daddy was flying on a DC-3, a two-engine affair which had a folding door containing steps for boarding.

At the top of the boarding steps, Daddy turned to face the crowd, lifted his hat with his left hand, and flashed the “V” for “Victory” sign with his right. The crowd roared its approval.

Another vignette: after Texas passed its gas proration laws, producers had to calculate something called “allowables,” the amount of gas which they could legally produce. Daddy went to Austin frequently to testify in rate cases or whatever the current issue may have been. He stayed in the Driskill, still a lovely old hotel with a fabulous bar. Those oil and gas guys would head to the bar at the end of the day. Every evening, at least one producer would accost him with, “Hey, Jimmie, I’ll buy you a drink if you’ll calculate my allowables for me.” I seriously doubt that he ever paid for a drink.

Another vignette from before I was born, related by my mother. He returned home early one morning from a train trip to Baton Rouge. My mother found a metal door plaque identifying a men’s restroom under the bathroom mat. She accosted him with the evidence, with some asperity.

– Jimmie, what on earth is this doing here?

– I don’t know … we were having a pretty good time, and I didn’t know where else to put it when I got home.

Train car bars weren’t as classy as the Driskill, but the bourbon probably tasted the same. I wish she had saved the damn sign.

Here are a couple more vignettes, featuring the sense of humor he displayed as a pretend celebrity at the airport in 1951.

We were having our weekly dinner at Morrison’s Cafeteria in Shreveport. Daddy turned to me conspiratorially.

– There were a bunch of bees flying down a highway. They needed to stop. They passed by a Gulf station, a Texaco station, and a Shell station. They finally turned in to an Esso Station.

(That was Standard Oil of Ohio at one time. I think).

– Why do you think they passed up the first three stations for the Esso station, my father asked me, a perfect 14-year-old straight man.

– I don’t know, Daddy.

– Because they were SOBs, he chuckled.

– Jimmie! my mother said reprovingly, suppressing a grin.

Another family meal, but this time I was 18 or 19, home from school for a holiday. It was the three of us in a local Mexican restaurant, plus my maternal grandmother Ida Burke.

Granny examined me with a mildly disapproving look and pronounced her verdict.

– Robin looks just like her father.

I can understand some disappointment: my mother was a world-class beauty.

Without missing a beat, Daddy turned to me and patted me on the arm.

– Of course she does!!! That’s why she’s so pretty!!!

He did enjoy rattling a Burke cage from time to time. I dearly loved my Burke relatives, but they were outmatched.

In his family, he was always characterized as a man who was too kind to swat a fly. He was the family caretaker. Needed a will probated? He was your man. Taking care of his mother when she reached the age of frequent doctor’s visit? Selling her house after she died? Ditto. Helping with whatever? Just ask.

He was bitten with what he called “the genealogy bug” after he retired in the late 1960s. My husband Gary was in pilot training at Craig AFB, Selma, AL. He and I were too poor for long distance calls (and Daddy was too frugal, and naturally disinclined to talk). Instead, we wrote letters. His regular salutation was “Dear Robin Baby.” Or perhaps it was “Dearest Robin Baby,” my memory is unclear. He and his sister Louise, who lived in Heflin, Bienville Parish — the only one of the four Rankin siblings who didn’t have the sense to get the hell out of rural north Louisiana — drove all over the area visiting relatives, collecting family stories.

They found a good love story and a mystery about their Grandfather, John Allen Rankin. Turns out John Allen met his future wife Amanda Lindsey in 1863, when he knocked on the door of her father’s house in Monticello, Arkansas. He was reportedly looking for a sister who lived in the area. Amanda later said that she “opened the door to the handsomest soldier you ever saw and fell in love on the spot.” The mystery was why he was “already out of the War in 1863,” as Daddy put it. So he sent off for John Allen’s military records, writing to me that he would keep it a secret if there was “a skeleton in the attic.”

There was, but it’s not a secret because I’ve written about it on this blog. My Confederate great-grandfather, displaying what I consider imminent good sense after being in a losing battle near Vicksburg and approaching the second year of his 6-month enlistment, deserted. He had just been issued a new uniform and several months back pay in Selma, Alabama. He evidently walked to Monticello, where he made Amanda Lindsey swoon.

What else about Daddy? He was a sentimental sweetie who carefully saved every scrap that was important to him. I found among his keepsakes an envelope labeled “Burke’s baby tooth,” with one of our son’s teeth carefully wrapped in folded tissue paper. There was also every report card, piano recital program, dance recital program, and twice-yearly reports from the private school I attended through the third grade.

He taught me how to play baseball, of course. Better yet, he taught me how to keep score. He and I would occasionally go (just the two of us!) to a Shreveport Sports game. He encouraged me to join him in booing lustily when an umpire made a bad call, defined as most anything unfavorable to the home team. He told me that a batter would hit a foul ball 5 out of 7 times when facing a full count. One of these days I’m going to test that theory.

He had a table saw and other carpentry tools in the garage. He made a back yard high jump for me. It consisted of two upright 2″x 2″ boards on wooden stands, with nails in each upright marked at one-inch increments for height. A bamboo pole served as the horizontal piece.

He also made a fancy cage for one of my Burke grandfather’s fabulous gifts: a pair of quail. Gramps also brought me baby ducks, baby chicks, and other wildlife. Also a B-B gun and a small rod and reel.

– I swear he will bring her an elephant one of these days, said Daddy.

He was 5’7″ and 140 pounds soaking wet, but nevertheless a fine athlete. He excelled at pretty much anything he tried. As an adult, he was a good golfer and above-average bowler, as evidenced by a “250” coffee mug from Brunswick. In high school, he was on the tennis and baseball teams. He was voted “Most Handsome.” He was the editor of the high school yearbook. I suspect he took that job to make sure his name appeared therein as JIM, not JAMES. My son wasn’t the first person who made that mistake. The engraver who did my wedding invitations didn’t believe that my mother, who had been married to him for a mere 31 years in 1967, actually knew his first name was Jim. He appeared on those wedding invites as “James.”

One of my high school best friends died in Vietnam. At his 1970 Shreveport funeral, Daddy (who loved my friend) cried like a baby. He wrote to one of his genealogy correspondents — Mildred Ezell, the woman who published the definitive books on the Brodnax family — that he never wanted to hear “Taps” played again.

Roughly a quarter-century later, I exchanged emails with Mrs. Ezell. She had posted a query online asking for information about my Brodnax great-great- grandfather. I replied, identifying myself as Robin Rankin Willis. She asked me in the next email if I knew whatever had happened to Jim Rankin. He clearly made an impression.

I’m going to omit the part where he got cancer and died. I don’t think I can stand to write about it.

And that is all for now. See you on down the road.

Robin

Some Virginia Winn families: a Holland connection

I’ve been organizing my files, a project I undertake whenever I’m overcome by guilt re: the mess I will leave behind if I’m hit by a bus. I persevere at this Sisyphean task until something mercifully diverts me.

Sorting through random paper yesterday, I ran across information I had collected on a colonial Holland family of Goochland, Hanover, and Amelia Counties, Virginia. My cryptic and somewhat snarky note about them implied that Winn researchers had not noticed the connection between these Hollands and the well-known Winn families of Hanover/Amelia/Lunenburg. I penned that note a couple of decades ago and it is probably no longer true, if it ever was. But it got me out of organizing my files to write this post, for which I am grateful.

The Winn context here is provided by Richard and Phoebe Wilkes Pledger Winn of Hanover County, Virginia. Richard’s family of origin is the subject of much speculation but no apparent evidence. He died about 1750. There is no extant will for him in Hanover, although he probably had one.[1] He did, however, own land and enslaved people located in Amelia which provided an essential link to establishing Richard and Phoebe’s family. Five children — there might be others — are established by excellent circumstantial evidence. I consider them all proved, although you might disagree.[2] I described the evidence in this article, so you may judge for yourself:

Here is a refresher on Richard and Phoebe’s five proved children, birth order unknown, just in case you’re new to them or have forgotten:

Col. John Winn of Amelia County, whose wife was Susannah Irby, daughter of Charles Irby Senior. Col. John died in Amelia in 1781, leaving a will naming his children Richard, Jane, Charles, John, and Susannah.[3]

Col. Thomas Winn of Lunenburg County, who was married twice. His first wife is usually identified as a Miss Bannister, although the only evidence I know is that the couple named a son Bannister Winn. Col. Thomas’s second wife and widow was Sarah, a genuine character who was almost certainly née Bacon.[4] Col. Thomas died in Lunenburg, also in 1781. His eleven children — including which ones were Miss Bannister’s and which were Sarah’s — are conclusively proved by a fabulous chancery lawsuit in Lunenburg.[5] I explained the lawsuit in this article.

Daniel Winn, also of Lunenburg. His wife was probably Sarah Tench, about whom I know nothing except that she was a daughter of Henry Tench. Daniel died in Lunenburg in 1799 leaving nine sons and one daughter. His will named only his son Joseph, although his other children are established by gift deeds and a web of other convincing evidence.[6] His children are identified and the evidence concerning them described in this post.

Susanna Winn, who married John Irby (also a child of Charles Irby Sr.) in Amelia in 1757. John Irby died in 1763, and his will identifies their young children as Charles, Lucey, and John Irby.[7] Susannah and two of the Irby children witnessed her brother Col. Thomas’s Lunenburg will.

Phoebe Winn. And here, at last, is the Winn-Holland connection. Phoebe’s husband was Michael Holland Jr., son of Michael Holland Sr. of Hanover and Goochland Counties. Michael Jr. died in Amelia County in late 1762 or early 1763. Their only proved children were Joseph and Mary Holland. Both were established by a deposition concerning Michael’s estate.[8] Joseph is also proved in a deed in which he sold some of his father’s land. His mother Phoebe, identified as such in the deed, released her dower interest.[9]

And with that, I will add a brief chart for the family of Michael Holland Sr. of Hanover and Goochland, along with a few notes which (I hope) will help you track these guys if you wish.

See you on down the road.

Robin

1 Michael Holland Sr., wife Judith _______. They apparently lived in Hanover, although a will was probated in Goochland.[10] He amassed an enormous amount of land in Louisa, Goochland, and Hanover Counties, much of it on Licking Hole or Lickinghole Swamp or Creek. He died in early 1746/47.

2 John Holland, inherited 800 acres on Lickinghole. Died in 1773. Wife Martha _______. Seven children are named in his Goochland will.[11]

3 John Holland, b. by Oct 1746

3 Judith Holland Parish

3 Hezekiah Holland

3 Martha Holland Graves

3 Nathaniel Holland, inherited land on Little Bird Cr. in Goochland.

3 Lucy Holland

3 Alice Holland Nash

2 Michael Holland Jr., inherited 400 acres in Louisa Co. Born about 1695. Was in Goochland Co. in Aug 1752 when he bought 865 acres from Philip Pledger. Was in Nottoway Parish, Amelia Co., by 28 Mar 1755, when he sold some of that tract. Died in the 4th quarter of 1762 in Amelia County. His wife was Phoebe Winn, sister of Col. John of Amelia, Col. Thomas of Lunenburg, Daniel Winn of Lunenburg, and Susannah Winn Irby of Amelia.

3 Joseph Holland

3 Mary Holland

2 Elizabeth Holland m. Pouncy Anderson; he inherited several tracts from his father-in-law.

2 Richard Holland, inherited a plantation in Louisa Co. and “Meridith’s Branch” in Henrico, where he lived as of Oct 1746, probably 500 acres and 450 acres, respectively.

2 George Holland, inherited 700 acres in Louisa Co., plus another 650 acres, location uncertain. Wife Sarah Ford, daughter of William Ford. Michael Sr. had to leave this large legacy to George Holland to assure that Mr. Ford would give Sarah a legacy.

2 Judith Holland m. Henry Martin, inherited 520 acres on Lickinghole plus 50 acres in Hanover a half-mile below the plantation where Michael Holland Sr. lived.

2 Anne Holland, under age in Oct 1746.

2 Susannah Holland, under age in Oct 1746.

2 Mercy Holland, under age in Oct 1746.

[1] There are few Hanover Co. records prior to 1865.

[2] Professional genealogical proof standards are relaxed somewhat when burned records result in the loss of primary conclusive evidence, such as Hanover County wills.

[3] Amelia Co., VA Will Book 2: 360. Will of John Winn of Amelia County dated 3 Mar 1780, proved 25 Jan 1781. Daughter Susanna when she reaches age 18 or marries, 7 slaves of equal value to those given daughter Jane Epes before her marriage. Son Richard Winn, 2 years after my death, 2 slaves (for support of wife until delivery). Wife Susanna, possession of dwelling house and sufficient maintenance out of my estate. Sons John and Charles Winn, remainder of my estate divided equally 1 year after death. Wife Susanna Winn, executrix, and Truman Epes and Charles Winn, executors. Witnesses: Giles Nance, John Irby, William Gooch, Elisha Winn, Joseph Winn, and Jane Epes. Charles and John qualified as executors.

[4] Lunenburg Co., VA Deed Book 25: 82, agreement dated 16 Mar 1820 between Edmund Winn (son and executor of Col. Thomas), Sarah Winn (Col. Thomas’s widow), and John Winn Jr. providing that Edmund would build a house for John Jr. on land where Edmund lives. The land belonged to Edmund’s mother Sarah for her lifetime, then descended to Bannister Winn, a son of Col. Thomas. However, John Jr. had bought the remainder interest in the land from Bannister Winn’s heirs. Edmund and his mother Sarah agreed not to deprive John Jr. of use of a certain part of the said tract. Edmund was expressly not bound for his mother’s conduct, only his own. I’m not sure who “John Jr.” is, probably either the son of John Winn m. Ann Stone or the son of Daniel.

[5] Col. Thomas Winn’s children by his first wife were Mourning, Elizabeth, Thomas, Richard, William, Bannister, and John Winn (who predeceased his father). His children by Sarah Bacon were Keturah, Henrietta Maria (AKA Marie), Edmund, and Washington.

[6] Lunenburg Co., VA Will Book 4: 264, will of Daniel Winn dated 23 Apr 1789, proved 14 Feb 1799. After payment of debts, remaining estate to son Joseph, other children already provided for. Daniel’s children were Marticia (wife of Cornelius Crenshaw Jr.), Joseph, John, Thomas, Elisha, Alexander, Orsamus, William, James, and Galanus.

[7] Amelia Co., VA Will Book 2X: 45, will of John Irby dated 28 Jan and proved 27 Oct 1763. Witnesses Thomas Wilkinson, William Fitzgerald, Mary Irby, and Henrietta Maria Irby. Executors Susannah Irby, “her brother John Winn,” and my brother Charles Irby. Wife Susanna Irby, 15 slaves and personal estate until the eldest child is 21 or wife remarries, then an equal division between my wife and children Charles Irby, Lucey Irby, and John Irby. Sons John and Charles, 560-acre tract where I live divided equally when son Charles comes of age or marries. Wife to have manor house and 1/3rd of land for life.

[8] The deposition suggests that Michael Holland may have had more than two children, although I can only prove two.Amelia Co., VA Deed Book 8: 314, deposition signed 3 Jan 1764 by John Nance repeating Michael Holland’s stated intent to give his daughter Mary two enslaved women and his son Joseph two enslaved men, and identifying Michael Holland’s wife’s brother as Mr. Winn. Holland also said his family was so large that he “wished his children could go for themselves.”

[9] Amelia Co., VA Deed Book 9: 105, deed dated 26 Feb 1767 from Joseph Holland of Nottoway Parish, Amelia, to Charles Irby, same, 118 acres in Raleigh Parish adjacent Winn’s line et al. Phoebe, the mother of Joseph Holland, released dower.

[10] Michael Sr.’s Hanover will, if any, is probably lost. Benjamin B. Weisiger, III, Goochland County, Virginia Wills and Deeds 1742-1749 (Richmond: 1984) 222, will of Michael Holland dated 10 Oct 1746, proved 17 Mar 1746/47. Wife Judith, 800 acres in Louisa County and 800 acres on Lickinghole Cr. Son John Holland, 800 acres on Lickinghole. Son Michael, 400 acres in Louisa bought from Craddock. Son-in-law Pouncy Anderson, 900 acres on Lickinghole and 200A bought from William Owen and other land. Son Richard, the plantation in Louisa County and “Meridith’s Branch” in Henrico where he now lives, 500 acres and 450 acres. Son George, 700 acres in Louisa County and other land. Son-in-law Henry Martin, 520 acres on Lickinghole plus 50 acres in Hanover, 1/2 mile below the plantation where Michael Sr. lived. Daughters Anne, Susannah and Mercy when of age or married. Daughters Elizabeth Anderson and Judith Martin. Grandson John Holland, the son of John, 500 acres in Orange County. Executors Henry Martin, Pouncy Anderson and Richard Holland. Witness John Martin, John Parrish, John Sandland.

[11] Goochland Deed & Will Book 10: 378, will of John Holland dated 7 Jun and proved Sep 1773. Wife Martha. Children John Holland, Judith Parish, Hezikiah Holland (female), Martha Graves, Nathaniel Holland, Lucy Holland, and Alice Nash. Son Nathaniel inherited land on Little Bird Cr.