Memorial Day: Leonard L. Fite (1822-1864)

The Civil War seems so much nearer to me now than when I was in high school and the war was thirty or more years nearer to me in real time. Some of it is the natural tendency of chronological time to feel like it’s moving faster as I get older. Some of it, however, is from living in places where the war was real and seeing the tangible results of that war.

Little Rock National Cemetery Leonard L Fite


“They hover as a cloud of witnesses above this Nation.” Henry Ward Beecher (1813-1887)

I stopped by the Little Rock National Cemetery on a damp, misty day last fall, and my breath was taken away. The rows after rows of soldiers’ graves are almost incomprehensible. By April 1868, there were nearly 5500 Union soldiers buried there, including Leonard L. Fite (father of Martha Tennessee (Fite) Childs, grandfather of Vandiver Lafayette Childs and Seady Tennessee Childs, and my great-great-grandfather).

5 of every 8 Civil War deaths were from disease.  (Look at all the graphics in the link — every time I read it, I learn something else.) More than ten thousand Arkansans died in the Civil War, although only a few hundred were in the Union Army. Leonard was one of them.

Leonard L. Fite mustered into Vance’s Company (Company E), Arkansas 4th Cavalry on December 5, 1863 at Benton. His discharge papers report that he was 42 years old, blue eyes, black hair, fair complexion and 6′ 4 1/4″ tall — he was unusual in both his age and his height. (The average soldier was 26 years old and 5′ 8″ tall.) He was a mechanic. (In the nineteenth century, a mechanic was “one who practices the mechanic arts; one skilled or employed in shaping and uniting materials, such as wood or metal, using tools or instruments.”)

His wife Mary Ann (nee Eason) died in November 1859 — about nine months after Tennessee was born, leaving Tennessee, her sister Sarah Ann Susan (just turned five), and brother Felix Lafayette (just turned three) for Leonard (age 36) to raise. Although it was not unusual for widowers to remarry quickly, especially with babies to tend, Leonard apparently did not remarry until April 1863, eight months before he enlisted. According to Tennessee’s testimony in applying for a military pension, her father and Ruth (McGraw) Fite never lived as husband and wife — perhaps this explains why Leonard enlisted.

Beginning almost as soon as he enlisted at Benton, Leonard was reported sick in the Little Rock hospital. He must have been there while the unionist government was forming in January 1864, after Little Rock and Fort Smith had been taken by the Union Army in fall 1863 (according to the Encyclopedia of Arkansas).

Leonard died of chronic diarrhea on March 15, 1864, around the time that the new state constitution was approved by loyalist voters. His burial number was 348. Thirty-eight other men died in the Little Rock hospital in March 1864. Tennessee was five years old.

His personal effects were sold at auction for $5.80 (one great coat, one pair trowsers [sic], two shirts, three drawers, one pair boots, one blanket, and one poncho).

Lenord L Fite Headstone (Little Rock National Cemetery)

 

 

 

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Spanish Influenza Pandemic of 1918-1919 Hits Close to Home*

* I started writing this last fall, when I was reading about the Spanish influenza pandemic — its genetics were similar to last year’s strain. And, like the Spanish flu (deadliest in people ages 20-40), last year’s flu mostly killed younger adults. The reasons for this are unclear — it may be because older people have been exposed to similar strains and school-age children have been vaccinated, while younger adults tend to think flu can’t happen to me, or that flu shots don’t work (or that the flu shot “gives” you the flu), or that they’re too busy. 

Flu season always reminds me of Seady (Childs) Duckett (1878-1918). She died Sunday, 25 October 1918, just after the Arkansas-wide quarantine was lifted and on the first day church services were permitted to resume (Sundays only). She was 40. Her youngest daughter Bonnie was eleven and a half — just a little younger than my daughter is now. Seady is the woman in the middle, holding her new granddaughter, in this photo. Bonnie is standing off to one side.

Top Row L-R: Ola, Allen, John Owen Sr., Alma (Duckett) Owen. Bottom Row L-R: Selma Duckett, Seady (Childs) Duckett holding Lavelle, Ottie, Bonnie. Courtesy Clara Lou Queen Owen. Likely late summer 1917.

Top Row L-R: Ola, Allen, John Owen Sr., Alma (Duckett) Owen. Bottom Row L-R: Selma Duckett, Seady (Childs) Duckett holding Lavelle, Ottie, Bonnie. Courtesy Clara Lou Queen Owen. Likely late summer 1917 or spring 1918.

Bonnie (Duckett) Robertson (1907-1989) told my mother this about her parents: Selma Duckett lived on the “home” place more than 80 years, from the time he was 4. All their children were born there. He was a road overseer for many years, employing and taking care of the payroll for labor and teams to do road work. He owned and operated a blacksmith shop and he farmed. He was also a member of the Duckett school board.

Selma used his blacksmith tools to shoe horses,  to sharpen plows, and to make coffins for the dead of the surrounding community. Seady carded the cotton bats and lined the coffins with them. They did this as a service to the community. These people were buried in the Duckett Cemetery, which was located on Duckett property. Selma, Seady, and Mellie would travel for miles on horseback or on foot to take care of the sick.

Again according to Bonnie, “When Seady Duckett died, everyone was afraid to go to [their] home because everyone was sick with flu. Grandpa Duckett made caskets but bought one for Grandma Duckett.”

Contemporary account of the Spanish influenza from a Monroe City (MO) newspaper

The Spanish flu hit the United States hard. Ten times as many Americans died of the flu as died in World War I. (And, half of the American soldiers’ deaths overseas were from influenza.) It killed so many young people that the US’s average life span was shortened by ten years. These deaths of America’s young people (675,000 men and women) were a loss of the future — comparable to the Civil War losses (620,000 men) less than sixty years earlier.

According to the Encyclopedia of Arkansas’ article, Flu Epidemic of 1918:

When the state confirmed 1,800 cases of influenza in October 1918, the Arkansas Board of Health put the state under quarantine, despite [U.S. Public Health Service officer for Arkansas] Geiger’s** continued reassurances (“Situation still well in hand”) and helpful hints (“Cover up each cough and sneeze; if you don’t you’ll spread disease”). Pulaski County lifted the quarantine on November 4, 1918, with county boards of health responsible for lifting restrictions in rural areas, though public schools remained closed statewide, and Arkansas children under eighteen were confined to their homes for another month.

5th columnist spreads disease

The word influenza came from the Italian into English in 1743, when people believed that the stars “influenced” the course of disease. We know better now.

We know that flu is caused by an influenza virus, and that flu vaccines reduce the likelihood of you getting flu (and reduce serious outcomes if you do get the flu), and reduce the spread of flu to others. We know that you don’t get flu from the vaccine (although the vaccine doesn’t take effect immediately). We know that vaccines don’t work for everybody — some people can’t be vaccinated and some people don’t develop the antibodies. (For instance, my rubella (aka German measles) vaccine doesn’t seem to stick. I’ve been vaccinated several times, but my antigen levels don’t show it. I am grateful to all those around me who have also been vaccinated for rubella — for that reduces my chances that I get rubella or that I would have exposed my daughter to it in utero.) We also know that it’s still hard to predict who will die from flu and who will barely miss a beat — although it is absolutely true that people still die from the flu in the United States. (More than 48,000 people died from the flu in 2003-04.)

In a day and time that we have safe and effective vaccines, everyone in my family gets one — why wouldn’t I want to reduce the risk of leaving my daughter motherless or my mother daughterless? And, as much as I loved the pine box my husband made for my father’s ashes, I don’t think he wants to be put in the position of deciding whether he can bear to make a box for me any time soon.

Besides the references linked to above, I also drew from an excellent and readable article about the Spanish flu’s impact in Arkansas, Plague on the Homefront: Arkansas and the Great Influenza Epidemic of 1918, The Arkansas Historical Quarterly, Vol. 47, No. 4 (Winter 1988), pp. 311-344.

If you want to read some contemporary accounts, click through to the 8 Oct. 1918 Tulsa Daily World (8 Oct 1918) quarantine story, the 31 Oct. 1918 Hayti (Mo.) Herald mention of awaiting a niece’s body at the train station, or the 25 Oct. 1918 Williams (Ariz.) News asking that you lay aside clothes for influenza orphans along with a half dozen or more other stories about influenza. (Or, just go to the Library of Congress’ database of newspapers and search for Spanish influenza, between 1918-1919.)

** Geiger and his wife both eventually came down with influenza and his wife died of it.

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Sorghum Cane Syrup in Arkansas

In September, we went to the Cane Hill Harvest Festival – partly because I was interested in Cane Hill, the site of Arkansas’ first college to admit women, and partly because I had heard they were making cane syrup from sweet sorghum. The only piece of art I can remember my grandfather Orval Childs taking a special interest in was on the fireplace mantel at their ‘new’ house and showed a mule running a sorghum mill.* I knew it was part of his childhood, but I only recently rediscovered that his uncle ran a sorghum mill.

At the Duckett Township gathering in November, Ray Duckett described how syrup was made from boiled down juice of the sorghum cane.** He also showed us where the mill was — there’s still a piece of concrete there that may be the oldest concrete in Howard County. (I got the CDs from the gathering for transcription just before Christmas. It takes me thirty minutes to transcribe ten minutes. We have 323 minutes. It may take me a while to finish.) Since I’m not to that point in the program yet, I won’t try to describe the details of how cane syrup was made in Howard County — it was motorized, not mule-powered. I suspect, though, that it may have been something like this photo from a 1957 USDA pamphlet.

I had imagined that slaves brought sweet sorghum from Africa. I was wrong. It didn’t reach the United States until 1854. And, then, sweet sorghum (aka Chinese sorghum or Chinese sugarcane***) came via France and the US Patent Office to the United States. I still don’t know why sweet sorghum didn’t come directly from Africa with the slave trade, like rice, okra, black-eyed peas, grain sorghum, and other crops.

The US Patent Office had a broader mission back then — it was making all sorts of technology available to the US, not just things that folks sought to patent in this relatively new, agrarian country. Its agricultural missions, begun in 1839, were sporadically funded by Congress, and continued until the Department of Agriculture was finally created in 1862 (the same time that the Morrill Act, funding land-grant colleges, became law). Science for Agriculture: A Long Term Perspective, 2nd ed. (Wallace E. Huffman, Robert E. Evenson, 2006) gives more details.

In 1854, the Patent Office’s Mr. D.J. Browne collected 200 pounds of seed around Versailles, France, “which was distributed the following spring among Members of Congress.” Congressional members then shared the seed with their constituents, who experimented with it and reported on their results. More varieties were introduced in 1857, 1865, and 1880. A continuing theme of the reports was farmers’ great surprise when Chinese sugar-cane turned out to be a great syrup producer, rather than the expected broom corn. (See the interesting pamphlet by Charles Frederick Stansbury, Chinese Sugar-cane and Sugar Making: Its History, Culture, and Adaptation to the Climate Soil and Economy of the United States (1858).) It proved to be difficult to turn syrup into sugar, and sweet sorghum never replaced cane sugar.

But how did sweet sorghum come to be grown in Arkansas?

It must have been introduced soon after it came into the United States. Arkansas produced over 100,000 gallons of syrup in 1859 (as reported in the 1860 census) — and was fifth in the nation in production in 1899, when Arkansas was one of eleven states producing more than a million gallons of sorghum syrup. By the 1890s, the southern states produced most of the sorghum syrup, a change from thirty years earlier when it was primarily made in the Midwest. (See the National Sweet Sorghum Producers & Processors Association FAQs for more.) Syrup production began a steep decline, and isn’t even mentioned in the index of my 1937 Yearbook of Agriculture. The whole United States now produces less than a million gallons each year.

Although most syrup was produced in small plants, Fort Smith’s Best-Clymer plant was built in 1914 — with the expectation that the KCS Railroad would deliver the raw grain as well as the processed syrup.

The plant recruited farmers conveniently located along the Arkansas Central Railroad. University of Arkansas demonstration agents (perhaps some of the first funded by the Smith-Lever Act) taught them how to grow sweet sorghum. The plant was billed as the world’s largest, and operated into probably the 1940s.

(To see the Smith-Lever article in the clip below, you’ll need to scroll down.)

(By the way, this whole collection of 1914-1915 pamphlets, The KCS Current Events – An Industrial and Agricultural Magazine, is interesting. The Kansas City Southern used the pamphlets as a recruiting tool for economic development so that the railroads have something to carry. This theme will recur with peaches around Nashville, Howard County. I grinned at the banana special — a train that carried only bananas and ran from Shreveport to DeQueen in five hours.)

Notes
* Mule-driven sorghum mills are plentiful in folk art, and Ferrum College (a Methodist college in Ferrum, Virginia) has posted an excellent collection of photos showing the molasses making process in the Digital Library of Appalachia.

This painting is by Thomas Hart Benton and is called 'Sorghum Mill' ( Arkansas).

This painting by Charles Banks Wilson is called 'Making Sorghum'.
** The phrase “boiled down juice” itself refers back to making cane syrup and to Zora Neale Hurston’s observation that “folk lore is the boiled down juice of human living. The Boiled Down Juice web site describes itself as “explor[ing] the ways in which living traditions play a role in sustaining and building communities.” It is based in Yell County, Arkansas, and has a great article about sweet sorghum (and recipes). The Arkansas folklore sourcebook by W. K. McNeil, William M. Clements (1992) has additional information about cooking sorghum.

*** The French name was translated as “Chinese sugar-cane,” and that name was used for about 3/4 of a century. The term Chinese sugar-cane first appeared in English about 1832, with the terms Chinese sorghum and sweet sorghum appearing in 1854. Between 1890 and 1900, the phrase sweet sorghum overtook and essentially replaced Chinese sugar-cane and Chinese sorghum.

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Duckett Township Meeting: Saturday, November 2, 2013

I think the flyer speaks for itself:

Duckett Township Meeting Flyer Nov 2013

Ronnie has lined up interesting guest speakers who have a lot of familiarity with the area, and we also hope to collect more information about the Duckett community, roughly defined as Duckett Township, as shown in the map below. (The three pins are Duckett Cemetery, Duckett Schoolhouse, and Duckett Ford.)

View Duckett Township, Howard County, AR in a larger map
Over the last while, we have accumulated a fair number of facts about the folks who were censused in Duckett Township (family of origin, place of burial, marriages, etc.), but now we’d like help putting flesh on their bones (so to speak). 120 people were in the 1940 census, 150 in 1930, 375 in 1920, 250 in 1910 — we know facts about most of them , but we don’t have stories.

  • If you have a story about somebody who had something to do with Duckett Township, the school, the community, the cemetery, … please share it with us.
  • Or a photo, a family Bible, a deed, tools, silverware, a quilt, a letter, an obituary, furniture, a recipe, … We’ll have cameras and scanners.
  • If you know somebody who’d like to spend a Saturday with us, please encourage them to come.
  • If you can come, please do.

Like planting a tree, the best time to collect this information was thirty years ago. The second best time is today. Umm. I mean November 2.

(The Limetree Inn is in Mena on Highway 71.)

Posted in Childs, Duckett, Duckett Township, Geography | 1 Comment

Gardens as a measure of age

heirloom yellow pear tomatoesI’ve been blessed with an abundance of tomatoes this year. My five yellow pear tomatoes are producing a quart or two a day although my Amish paste are not so prolific. Still, it’s enough that I can share with my neighbors and still have plenty to dry and eat and experiment with recipes (tomato preserves!), but not so much that I have to figure out how we safely can tomatoes these days. It reminds me of the summer of 1982 in south Arkansas. I stayed with my grandparents Childs that summer and picked up twelve hours at SAU while they got ready for the Big Blow Out (aka their 5oth wedding anniversary).

My Poppaw (Orval) would pick a mess or two of Kentucky Wonder beans (or have me pick, and he’d go behind and glean enough for another mess or two) and say we’re going to visit some old people. (That summer was also when I learned how big a mess is. It is approximately enough to feed the people who are receiving the mess. It has nothing to do with being messy – it’s from the Old French, missus, what is sent to the table, from mittere, to send. Like a missive or mess hall.) Off we’d go. He’d tell me a story about the folks we were visiting, we’d stop and visit, and leave them with the produce. Fairly often the ‘old’ people were younger than he was (72), but they didn’t have a garden. I guess that’s a reasonable way to measure if you’re old. You’re not old until you can’t raise a garden.

That was also the summer when I learned that he grew eggplant because he thought they were pretty, not because he wanted to eat them. A sign of plenty – when you have food to share, and can grow vegetables to look at instead of to eat.

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John Henry Brock (1802-1880): Burial at Witherspoon Cemetery

John Henry Brock's two gravestones, photographed June 2, 2013.

John Henry Brock’s two gravestones, photographed June 2, 2013.

DSCN0185 DSCN0186

John Henry Brock was born in 1802, more than 200 years ago, and died May 26, 1880, 123 years ago. He is buried on Brock Row in Witherspoon Cemetery, Vandervoort, Polk County, Arkansas. Three of his children, Lucinda, Lawrence and Permelia Brock, eventually homesteaded the land where he built a cabin in 1877.

My great-aunt, Blanche (Turrentine) Gardner left a note which she made in 1976, nearly a hundred years after he died, and which my mother and I came across in November 1995 and transcribed it. (I don’t have a copy of the original note. Probably Holly does. I picture it as being in blue ink, a little blotchy, with small, cramped handwriting, since that is how I remember all her letters. It contrasted with her sister Floy’s writing, which was rather large and loopy.)

Blanche Gardner’s Notes: Brocks/Towrys 3/22/[19]76

11/[19]95: Note by Lisa and Holly Childs when they transcribed Blanche’s notes: “Her [Blanche's] notes are nearly illegible.”

These notes from Floy [Turrentine Childs] are valuable and fill a gap which I thought would never be filled – at least not short of eternity. The very data and names I desperately wanted. It’s a near miracle. The little vignette of John Brock’s funeral is precious, too.

This information came from Mamma via Floy – the last winter of her life (after Thanksgiving 1960 – before her death 6/13/61.) She stayed with Floy after Th[anksgiving] till she left for Ky in early spring. Notes follow.

Thomas Brock died in 1908. His father – John Brock – mother – Sarah Anderson.

John Brock was buried 5/25/1880 on Mamma’s 4th birthday. Mamma remembered that he was dressed in white. When she was older, she asked if he was buried in a suit & they said he was. She asked why, then, did she remember him in white. They said he was in a winding sheet.

Sarah Anderson Brock died in 1884 or ’85.

Silas Towry married Drusilla Stamps, the sister of his bro. Giles’ wife, Eliza Ann for whom Mamma was named.

Now these gaps are filled, I must try to find the name of Alex Carper’s wife – the third of the Stamps sisters.

Blanche (Turrentine) Gardner (1906-1985) and Floy (Turrentine) Childs (1909-1987): Sisters, daughters of Edward Archelaus and Eliza Permelia (Brock) Turrentine, granddaughters of Thomas and Mary Jane (Towry) Brock, great-granddaughters of John Henry and Sarah (Anderson) Brock.

Eliza Permelia (Brock) Turrentine (1876-1961): John Henry Brock’s granddaughter, Floy and Blanche’s “Mamma”, and Lisa Childs’ great-grandmother. Her other daughter Blye (Turrentine) Harrison (1908-1992) lived in Kentucky.

John Henry Brock (1802-1880): grandfather to sisters Sarah Drusilla (Brock) Duckett and Eliza Permelia (Brock) Turrentine, uncle to Sarah’s second husband Allen Turner Duckett, great-grandfather to Blanche and Floy. I realize that his stone says he died on May 26, and not May 25, but I suspect that was the stonecarver’s error rather than his granddaughter’s, whose birthday was forever tangled up with the memory of burying her grandfather.

Sarah (Anderson) Brock (1798-1884): John Henry Brock’s wife.

As for why there are two stones: that may be the subject of a separate post one day. I’ll just say that I think that my grandparents along with other relatives may have replaced, updated or set several stones in cemeteries in Arkansas and Oklahoma around 1961, when Floy’s Mamma died. I was delighted to find the original stones, as well as the newer stones, which tend to support my theory.

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Lewellen Moore Childs’ Land Grant: A Starter Cabin

Lewellen Moore Childs (1851-1915) settled his homestead in 1877-1878, about the same time as the Brock siblings did. While the Brocks settled their homestead as a family of five adults, the Childs homestead was settled by newlyweds. In 1877, the Brock family, John and Sarah, and their three children still at home, Lucinda, Permelia Caroline and Lawrence, ranged in age from 77 to 35. In contrast, Lewellen was 26 and his wife, 18, when they moved onto their homestead.

Lewellen (“Lewis”) married Martha Tennessee Fite in Montgomery County, Arkansas in June 1877. Six months after they married, he went off to Howard County to build a house. Fortunately, he was a fast builder. He went down there just before Christmas, and built the house. They moved in January 13, 1878, a Sunday. Six months later, Seady Tennessee Childs was born.

Llewellyn M Childs House Building

His application says he was farming in Montgomery County. Mother and I went to Montgomery County earlier this June, and didn’t find any sign of land ownership there. Of course, that’s not to say he wasn’t farming – just that it wasn’t his land.

He and Tennessee, daughter Seady, and a boarder Columbus Barnes are there in the 1880 census, next to his niece Asenath Ann (nee Pearson) Ross and her family.

1880UnitedStatesFederalCensusForL.M.Childs

I imagine that Columbus Barnes moved to Sulphur Springs Township because his brothers John T. Barnes and Adolph Barnes are living there. (They are on the previous page of the 1880 census.) Columbus eventually moved back to Sevier County and married a woman named Lyda Jane DeMoss. Their several children included a son named Carl Marx Barnes, possibly suggesting something about his political beliefs. (The son eventually went by Carl Mark Barnes.)

Lewis waited to enter his homestead application until January 1882 – four years after he built the house. (We saw a similar delay with the Brock sisters, who waited nearly six years from building their first house in 1877 to actually enter their homestead applications in October 1882.)

Llewellyn M Childs Previous Location

When they moved onto the land, they found oak, hickory, pine, and dogwood and cleared a quarter of it to use for fencing and firewood. He doesn’t mention using any to build his house, but it’s unlikely he would have brought in logs from somewhere else.

Llewellyn Moore Childs Land Description

I wonder what the fences looked like. Research shows that fences around Elkhorn Tavern in 1862, at the time of the Battle of Pea Ridge up here in northwest Arkansas,  included worm rail, stake and rider, and post and rail. I didn’t know any of those terms so I looked them up.

  • Worm rail seems to be synonymous with what I think of as a split rail fence, where you don’t use posts or nails and the rails are interlocking and zigzag like a worm across the land. (I remember my grandfather Gordon Hartrick had a worm rail fence in his back yard in Ashley County which he had salvaged from a much older home place — perhaps it was of a similar age to Lewis’s home place.)
  • Stake and rider is another form of rail fence made without needing to dig post holes. You can’t really tell from this photo, but, from what I’ve read, there are stakes crossed like an X. These crossed stakes hold up a horizontal rail, and you might then secure the horizontal rail at the intersection of the crossed stakes. You need another crossing for each horizontal rail.
  • Post and rail requires post holes, and the rails are slotted through the posts.
    Worm Rail Fence Library of Congress

    Worm Rail Fence

    Post and Rail Fence Library of Congress

    Post and Rail Fence

    Stake and Rider Fence Library of Congress

    Stake and Rider Fence

The invention of barbed wire in the late 1870s revolutionized fencing by making it possible to quickly fence large areas even where wood was in short supply. Until barbed wire became affordable, farmers tended to fence out livestock rather than fence them in.

After living on their homestead for nine years and having three children, the Childses’ house is still just 14 feet by 15 feet. They do have a crib, stables, an orchard, and he’s cleared 35 acres. Most of the value, by his estimation, is in the land.

Llewellyn Moore Childs Homestead Improvements

These two parking spaces are 18′ by 18′. Together they take up 100 more square feet than their house.

Two parking spaces 18x18

Their 14′ by 15′ cabin (210 square feet) was on the small side from what I have read, but even the larger ones would only be 16′ by 18′ because you had to be able to haul the logs with a mule. To add on to your ‘starter’ cabin, you would build another cabin (or ‘pen’).

In contrast to the round Lincoln Logs you may remember, log cabins were typically planked (or hewn flat), and then chinked to keep the breezes out. This picture of a single pen log cabin in Ozark County, Missouri is the best example I have found, but, at 16′x18′ (288 square feet), it is considerably bigger than the one Lewis built. The roof would likely have been hand split wooden shingles, and the chimney would have been built so that it could be pushed away from the house if it caught fire. Cribs (like the one shown at right) and stables were not usually planked or chinked.

PenLogHouseLogOutbuilding

To prove up your homestead, you had to demonstrate that you actually lived on the claim. (This requirement tripped up the Brock sisters.) When Lewis submitted his proofs in November 1887, his family was five: Lewis and Tennessee, and their three children, Seady (age 9 ½), Vandiver Lafayette “Buster” (age 6), and Ozella Josephine “Oza” (age 3).

LM Childs testimony re constant presence

The Childs family owned six plows, three hoes, four horses, three cows, twenty hogs, and chickens, but just two bedsteads and bedding, six chairs, two tables, and kitchen furniture.

LM Childs farm implements and furniture

Lewis had two neighbors, Wade Forgy and Richard Props, testify in support of his claim.

Wade Forgy* responded to a question to provide specific details why he knew that Lewis lived on his claim:

“Claimant has a team of obstinate oxen and I hear him gently berating them almost every day in a manner that is inconsistent with the calling of a minister. …”

Wade M Forgy testimony re oxen

The oxen must have made quite an impression on his neighbors for the other testifying witness, Richard W. Props,** also mentioned hearing him drive his oxen.

Richardson William Cannon Props testimony re oxen

According to Drew Conroy at Rural Heritage,

An ox, to early American farmers who used the beast, was a mature castrated male belonging to the domestic cattle family, or genus Bos, most likely trained (like draft horses, some never got trained) to work, and at the end of its life inevitably used for meat.”

I suppose that this suggests that two of the family’s three cows are oxen and they have just one milk cow, although I see suggestions elsewhere on the Rural Heritage site that one could have a working cow as well. (If anybody has any opinions or knowledge about the use of the term “oxen” in the late 19th century in southwest Arkansas, please don’t hold back. Comments are welcome.) Here is a young boy using a team of oxen to plow in 1937 Montgomery County, Alabama. I doubt the technology had changed much in the preceding sixty years.

Library of Congress Oxen Team

Finally, I included this excerpt for two reasons. I like seeing LM’s signature, and I like that he signed in the wrong place and had to X it out.

LM Childs Signature

* Wade Masterson Forgy and his wife are buried in Galena Cemetery, but I think most of their descendants moved to Texas and points west.

** Richard Props’ full name was Richardson William Cannon Props. He is buried in the Center Point Cemetery. His mother, Elizabeth Cannon, married twice. Her second husband was Elisha G. Dyer, and Elisha Dyer’s granddaughter (by his first marriage) was Lilly Dyer, Selma Duckett’s second wife, whom he married after his wife Seady died. (Seady was Lewis and Tennessee’s first child, mentioned above.) Props proved up his homestead about a mile south of Lewis’ in 1890.

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Sarah (Brock) Duckett’s Land Grant

Three weeks before Sarah Drusilla (Sallie”) Brock married Allen Turner Duckett (second marriage for each), she and Turner traveled 120 miles to Camden, Arkansas so she could submit paperwork to file for a homestead in Howard County, just south of Duckett Township and adjacent to land homesteaded by Turner’s brother Marvin.

Sarah D Brock Application with Allen Turner Duckett

 


View Larger Map

She hadn’t moved onto her claim when they married in September 1895 for their marriage license says he was of Duckett, Howard, Arkansas and she was of Hatton, Polk, Arkansas. (Indeed, her stepson later testified that she didn’t move until six months later.)

A T Duckett and Sallie Brock 1895 Marriage License

1900UnitedStatesFederalCensus Arkansas Howard County Sulphur Springs Township page 16 Allen and Sarah Brock Duckett

In July 1900, according to the federal census, there were seven people living in her house: Sarah and Turner, along with three of his sons, Elza, Malvin, and Marvin, and two of his daughters, Mellie and Ova. (The census taker misidentified Elza as a daughter and misnamed Mellie as Nellie.) Elza, at 21, was just 11 years younger than his stepmother Sallie.  Until Turner’s son Selma married in 1898, there were probably eight people living in this six-room boxed house. (Turner’s daughter Allie Italy married in 1894, eight months after her mother died and sixteen months before her father remarried.)

Sallie placed her Legal Notice in The Gillham Miner from October-December 1902 although she intended to advertise in the Mining Gazette, Granness [sic, should be Grannis], Arkansas. (Neither newspaper is in the Arkansas Archives. Mining, including antimony, mercury, lead and zinc, did occur in the area.) Prospective witnesses included: Elza R Duckett (her stepson), Joseph J Ross (husband of her stepdaughter Allie Italy), and Samuel Miles, all of Duckett, and Anthony W C Hunter of Galena, Arkansas. Elza and Joe actually testified. (Samuel Miles is on the census page linked to above. Anthony W C Hunter is nearby, on the previous page.)

Sarah D Brock Duckett Advertisement

Elza R Duckett, age 23, and Joseph J Ross, age 29, provided very similar testimony. According to them, she settled 27 Feb 1896 (six months after filing) and had cultivated the land 35-60 acres for 7 years. Her improvements, worth $800 by their estimate, included:

  • Boxed house, 6 rooms,*
  • cribs,
  • stables,
  • smokehouse &
  • 60 acres in cultivation.

At six rooms, her house almost certainly bigger than those of Lucinda Brock (2 rooms with a gallery, 18×32) or Lewellen Childs (16×18). Still cozy by today’s standards, especially with four stepsons and two stepdaughters living with you.

Sarah D Duckett, formerly Sarah D Brock, age 36 years, also testified. She was born in Arkansas and had cultivated 35 to 60 acres for 7 years. She testified, “I have not heretofore perfected or abandoned an entry made under the homestead laws of the United States.” (This was true, although her husband had perfected a homestead 20 years earlier — hence the rush to file before they married.) She submitted her homestead proofs on December 10, 1902, and was then required to provide a supplemental affidavit to explain why she hadn’t submitted her proofs on time. (The instructions were misleading.) Her grant was awarded in January 1904.

Sarah D Brock Duckett 1904 Land Grant Certificate

* I had assumed that a “boxed house” meant that it was a frame house (instead of log). But I was wrong. At least in the Smoky Mountains, a “boxed house” refers to “single-wall, vertical-plank” construction with minimal framing, and is described as “the building method of choice for many rural people of modest means during the timber era.”

House of Negro tenant family. This is a larger house than usual box type. Has several rooms, unscreened, but well kept. Part of the family is sitting on the porch resting--Saturday afternoon. The oldest son on the mule is on his way to visit a neighbor. Pittsboro, North Carolina

The term “boxed house” was still in use locally in 1922, when the Kansas City Southern Railway Agricultural & Industrial Bulletin advertised “boxed houses” in Missouri, Louisiana, Oklahoma, and Arkansas (including Wickes and Gilham). The excerpt below advertises boxed houses near Wickes (bottom of the middle column). (This Bulletin is interesting in and of itself.) image of sequence 230

Another study explains:

“Another important house type that emerged in the rural county in the early twentieth century is the boxed house. The boxed house is thought by some scholars to be a direct descendant of the log house, both in terms of general form and social use and function. As milled lumber became more readily available, this house type became a common alternative to the more labor intensive log house. This construction technique is defined by the use of a contiguous interior/exterior structural wall of vertical planks nailed to the sill and plate; that is, there is no internal structural framing. Vertical battens often cover the gaps between the planks. Though this type may have been present in the [Watauga] county [North Carolina] before the coming of the timber industry, it is likely that logging camps, both in modeling the construction technique in ephemeral camp housing and in providing an excess of milled lumber, accelerated the spread of the type through the county. It is nearly certain that this house type was once far more common than the results from the current survey indicate. The paucity of surviving examples is a direct result of the short-lived nature of this construction method…. All of these feature simple two-room plans with the exception of the Samuel Hodges House, which exhibits an anomalous center hall.”

Historic and Architectural Resources of Watauga County, North Carolina, ca. 1763-1952 at page 56-57. Turner and Sarah’s six-room boxed house seems to be an exception — or perhaps it is just that more expensive boxed houses were more likely to be replaced.

Posted in Allen Turner Duckett, Brock, Duckett, Sarah Drusilla "Sally" Brock | 1 Comment

Land Grants: A Little House (or Two or Three) in the Ouachitas+

When I was in grade school, I devoured the Little House books. Laura (Ingalls) Wilder lived in Indian Territory, not too far from where I grew up. When she had the fever and ague, Dr. Tanner, who saved her, was from Bartlesville. I’ve been to the cemetery where he buried some of his failures. And, of course, I knew about the Oklahoma Land Rush. I was fascinated by the idea of homesteading – that anyone over 21 could stake a claim, pay a total of $18, live on the land and improve and cultivate it for five years, and eventually have “free” land.

In graduate school, I learned about the 1862 Morrill Act, which is the foundational legislation for the land grant university system. Senator Justin Smith Morrill (1810-1898) (the uncle of my five-times-great-grandmother on my Yankee side) was responsible for  getting that legislation enacted. I am still fascinated by the creative thinking (and how they had to wait until the Civil War to actually pass the bill).

Backing up, my grandmother Floy (Turrentine) Childs must have known I was reading the Little House books for one day she wrote a letter telling a story about some of her own relatives that were homesteaders. I remember sitting at the dining room table, and my mother reading the letter to us.

The way I remember the story, her grandfather Thomas Brock (1823-1908) had three siblings, Lucinda, Lawrence and Permelia, who decided to homestead together in Polk County, Arkansas. (Thomas also homesteaded in Polk County and would eventually be my great-great-grandfather.)

Lucinda, Lawrence and Permelia never married, so they found three pieces of land (each a quarter of a section or 160 acres) that adjoined each other and built one house where the properties intersected, and took up housekeeping together. In due course, they proved up their claims and owned their land free and clear.

As an aside, the three Brock siblings are not only great-aunts and great-uncle to my grandmother Floy, they are also kin to the Ducketts in at least two ways: (1) first cousins to Allen Turner Duckett and (2) first cousins once removed to Turner’s second wife (Sarah Drusilla Brock).

The 1880 and 1900 Censuses

The 1880 and 1900 censuses support this story. In the 1880 census, the three of them live together with their mother Sarah (Anderson) Brock (who died in 1884 at the age of 86). The 1900 census also shows the three of them living together: Lawrence Brock, head, born July 1840; Lucinda, sister, born September 1835; Permelia, sister, born May 1842, and Joshua D. Holden, nephew, born May 1854. The Brocks were born in Georgia, their father in North Carolina and their mother in South Carolina. Joshua (son of their sister Mary (Brock) Holden) was born in Texas, his mother in South Carolina and his father in Georgia.

1880 United States Federal Census_Arkansas Polk County White Township Household 295: Lawrence Brock, head, born July 1840; Lucinda, sister, born September 1835; Permelia, sister, born May 1842, Joshua D. Brock, nephew, born May 1854. The Brocks were born in Georgia, their father in North Carolina and their mother in South Carolina. Joshua was born in Texas, with his mother born in South Carolina and his father in Georgia.

As is often the case with family stories, the story is both true and untrue. Their homesteads did abut each other, and I think they did live together, but they had to build three houses, one on each homestead, before they could prove their claims.

The Land Grant Files

From the land grant applications, Lucinda’s father John and brother (probably Lawrence, but Thomas could have helped) built the first house in 1877 – which was on the land that Lucinda homesteaded. (John was 75 when they built or bought the 1877 house.)

Permelia Brock's land is in green, Lucinda Brock's land in red, and Lawrence Brock's in blue. The purple belongs to their brother Thomas. The yellow was John D. Towry's homestead.

Permelia Brock’s land is in green, Lucinda Brock’s land in red, and Lawrence Brock’s in blue. The purple was homesteaded by their brother Thomas. The yellow was John D. Towry’s homestead.

Lucinda & Permelia

Lucinda and Permelia both submitted their Homestead Applications in Camden, Arkansas, along with $14.00,  on October 19, 1882. Lucinda and Permelia published Legal Notices in the Dallas [Polk County] Courier from February 1889 to March 1889, and listed George C. Miller, John D. Towry, John E. McBreom, and Charles M. Miller, all of Cove, as potential witnesses. Their testifying witnesses were John D Towry and George C Miller. However, the testimony for Lucinda and Permelia diverged.

Lucinda

Lucinda’s application proceeded smoothly.

John D Towry, their neighbor and cousin by marriage,* submitted testimony on Lucinda’s behalf on March 30, 1889 in Dallas (then the Polk County Seat**). He was 40, and said he frequently saw her on the land.

Lucinda had lived on the land since 1877, according to Towry. The improvements consisted of a dwelling house with 2 rooms and gallery (valued about $100), a smoke house, kitchen, and 4 acres in cultivation. Her house was 18×32 feet, constructed of “logs and lumber and habitable all seasons of the year.” Towry said there was four acres broken and plowed, and put in crops each season, including corn, wheat and cotton. Total value $240 in improvements and $440 in land. George C Miller, another nearby homesteader aged 45, and Lucinda herself gave similar testimony.

I suspect that the house was initially a single pen log cabin, about 16×18 feet, with a second cabin subsequently built with a gallery or dog trot in between. This photo, of a dog trot cabin built between 1866 and 1879 and surveyed in 1979, seems to me to be a pretty good example of a house built of “logs and lumber.” The survey measures the rooms’ interiors at just about 17′x17′, with an eight-foot wide dog trot between the rooms.

http://lcweb2.loc.gov/pnp/habshaer/ms/ms0000/ms0041/photos/093885pr.jpg

Log cabins were built in modules, and were limited in size by the size of logs a man could conveniently haul and stack. Around here, as in this Mississippi example, the logs were usually planked, or flat, on both the inside and outside of the house. (They did not look like Lincoln Logs, in other words.) You would put chinking in between the logs to reduce drafts. The kitchen was separated from the house to keep the house cooler in the summer and reduce the risk of house fires.

Lucinda described her land: “timber consisting of pine, oak, hickory, etc.” She went on to describe the details of her living arrangements: “In the year 1877, my father bought the improvements and moved on this claim and I was living with [him] and moved on this claim with him. He paid about settled the place.” (Strike outs in original.) “The land was not occupied by any person when I moved on this claim.” “My house was built by my father and brother in the year 1877 & the same is habitable all seasons of the year.”"I have no family of my own but live with my bro[ther] and sister – all of us being unmarried.”

Lucinda listed farm implements:  plows, hoes, axes, etc. She also kept three head cattle and poultry. Her furniture included a bedstead, table and chairs.

Lucinda obtained her patent on April 24, 1890, about a year after she made her final payment.

Permelia

Permelia’s application did not go as well. She established that she had cleared the land and made the required improvements by March 1889, but initially failed to prove that she had actually made a home on the claim. The testimony (including her own) was that she lived within 25 yards of the claim — but she and her testifying witnesses tried unsuccessfully to excuse it by virtue of the sisters being “single and unmarried.”

John D. Towry testified that he had been to the land “too often to recollect” and had last seen her on the land about ten days ago. The improvements “consist of [illiegible] garden orchard” with about 16 acres in cultivation (in contrast to the four acres cleared on Lucinda’s claim). The 16 acres had been broken, and plowed and put in crops. She raised “corn, wheat, oats, and cotton,” and had raised a crop every year. He testified that she had “no resident house in the claim but lives with her sister, both being single and unmarried.” She and her sister lived within 25 yards of the claim.

George C. Miller also testified. He had seen her often on the land, as recently as a month ago. Like John D. Towry, he explained that she lived with her sister, “being single and unmarried” but within 25 yards of her claim, and said she worked on the claim “all the time.”

Permelia submitted her own testimony. She was 41, and a farmer in her own employ. Before she settled on the land, she lived in Polk County and was a farmer. She described the land, “The land is timber consisting of pine, oak, hickory, etc. and at date of entry there was … 152 [acres] standing in timber and at this date 144 acres in timber. There has been no timber cut except what has been done in improving the place.” (Doing the math: eight acres were cleared before she filed her application, and another eight acres cleared over the next six years.)

Permelia Brock Land Grant Extract

As for the improvements,

  • “My father bought the improvements [possibly referring to the cleared land or to the improvements on her sister's place] about 14 years ago and I was living with him.”
  • “I never did actually live on the claim but lived with my sister being single and unmarried.”
  • “My residence was continuous with my sister. Having no family, I have lived with my sister, but [illegible]ed my improvements and was on my claim almost daily from the date of settlement to the present time.”
  • “I boarded with my sister, having no family home I had to live with my sister.”
  • “I am not a voter.”
  • “I have no family. Being a lone woman, I could not conveniently live on my claim.”
  • “The improvements consist of stable, gardens, orchard.”
  • “I … keep on the claim plows, hoes, axes etc.”
  • “I own and keep on the place, 1 horse, 3 head cattle, poultry etc.”

(Note the similarity in improvements, farm implements, and livestock between Lucinda and Permelia.)

Apparently (for the file is silent on this point), the federal government required her to build a house and live in it for five years, no matter how inconvenient it may have been for a single woman.

On January 7, 1898, she submitted testimony that she built a dwelling house in October 1892, “and moved on the land and established actual residence thereon and have continued to reside on the same to the present time. So help me, God.” Her nephew Joshua B. Holden (the same nephew that was living with them according to the 1880 census) and another probable relative William J. Towry corroborated her testimony. (I’m not sure who William J. Towry is.) This testimony satisfied the requirements and she was awarded her grant on June 23, 1898, twenty-one years after her family moved to Polk County, fifteen years after she filed her claim, and six months before Senator Morrill died (36 years after the act bearing his name passed).

Lawrence

Their brother Lawrence (or Lawrance with an ‘a’ as it is spelled throughout his file) waited to submit his homestead application until March 13, 1895 – 13 years after his sisters first submitted theirs. He submitted it at the county seat, Dallas, rather than traveling to Camden, “by reason of distance and expense.” (Interestingly, his niece Sarah Brock went to Camden with her future husband Turner Duckett just five months later to submit her application in person.)  The 1897 forms were shorter and less informative than the earlier forms.

Lawrence ran his Legal Notice in the Mena Democrat from July-September 1897. His proposed witnesses were: Thomas Stephens, John C. Towry, Henry D. McDaniel, and William I. Towry, all of Janssen, Arkansas (later renamed Vandervoort).** His testifying witnesses were Henry D. McDaniel and John C. Towry (not the John. D. Towry that testified for his sisters).

John C. Towry, age 31, testified in September 1897 that Lawrence moved onto the land in March 1892, seven months before Permelia’s cabin was built in October 1892, and three years before he filed his homestead application. Lawrence “is single and unmarried but has resided continuously on the land since settlement.” He had “a dwelling house, out buildings, and about 35 acres in cultivation, value about $500.” Henry D. McDaniel, age 35, testified similarly.

In September 1897, Lawrence testified that he was 57 years old and ”borned” in Georgia. ”In March 1892, I built a house on this land and moved on it and established residence therein. I have dwelling house, out buildings, garden, orchard etc. and about 15 acres in cultivation, $500.” My family consists “of myself only and I have lived continuously on this land ever since settlement. I am single and unmarried.” He received his grant on December 10, 1897, about twenty years after his father built the first cabin on what was to become Lucinda’s homestead – not exactly a fast path to home ownership.

+ If you were at the Duckett-Childs Family Reunion this June, this may sound familiar to you since I presented much of the information there.

*John D. Towry’s first cousin, Mary Jane Towry, married the siblings’ brother Thomas Brock in 1865. Thomas and Mary Jane (Towry) Brock were the parents of Sarah Drusilla (Turner Duckett’s second wife) and Eliza Permelia (Floy’s mother) among others. John D. Towry also homesteaded in Polk County, being awarded his claim on November 15, 1894.

** Dallas had the first Polk County courthouse. It burned twice, once before 1869 and then again in 1883. The county seat relocated to Mena in 1898.  Janssen was renamed Vandervoort by a man who worked for the founder of the Kansas City Southern Railroad. Actually, he named the town Janssen, and then renamed it Vandervoort: Janssen for his wife’s maiden name, and Vandervoort for his mother’s maiden name. See the Encyclopedia of Arkansas entry on Polk County.

Posted in Allen Turner Duckett, Brock, Duckett | 3 Comments

Allen Turner Duckett: Was he named for a Methodist circuit rider?

I am nearly positive that my grandfather’s paternal grandfather Lewellen Moore Childs (1851-1915) was named for a Primitive Baptist preacher. In a surprising twist, I now believe that Orval’s maternal grandfather Allen Turner Duckett (1846-1907) was also named for a preacher, a Methodist circuit rider.

Rev. Allen Turner (1791-about 1867) preached in South Carolina, North Georgia, and probably Florida. As a Methodist circuit rider, he covered a lot of territory. (To be more precise, we would want to work with the United Methodist Archives.) The map shows (in red) places that Rev. Turner was based over the course of his 40 years in the ministry, and (in blue) Habersham County, where the Ducketts lived for most of that time.

View Georgia: Ducketts and Rev. Allen Turner in a larger map

I found several very useful resources on Google Books that helped me to pin down where Rev. Turner served, including the Minutes of the Annual Conferences of the Methodist Episcopal Church (1773-1828), printed in 1840, and the Minutes for the Annual Conferences for the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. Unfortunately, Georgia’s Methodist records seem to be spottier than those for South Carolina for the time period I’m curious about. (The Georgia Conference was created from the South Carolina Conference in 1831, according to a History of Annual Conferences. Rev. Turner may have already moved to Georgia before the Georgia Conference was formed.)

The table summarizes where Rev. Turner was (and points out that Allen Turner Duckett’s family was in Habersham County, Georgia for all that time).

Date Duckett-Brock Rev. Allen Turner
1812   Bush River, Edisto District, South Carolina
1813   Washington, Oconee District, South Carolina
1814   Ohoopee, Oconee District, South Carolina
1815   Grove, Ogeechee District, South Carolina
1816   Black River, Peedee District, South Carolina
1817   Brumwick, Peedee District, South Carolina
1818   Upper French-Broad, Catawba District, South Carolina
1819   Keewee, Edistro District, South Carolina
1821   Cedar Creek, Athens District, South Carolina
1822   Oconee District, South Carolina
1823   Oconee District, South Carolina
1824   Enoree, Broad River District, South Carolina
1825   Sandy River, Columbia or Broad River District, South Carolina
1826   Little River, Augusta, South Carolina
1827   Warren, Augusta, South Carolina
1828   Warren, Augusta, South Carolina+
1830 Duckett and Brock grandparents censused in Habersham County, Georgia.  
1831   Georgia, South Carolina: Little River. (Georgia Conference formed.)
1832   Georgia
1832   Georgia
1844 Turner Duckett’s parents marry in Habersham County, Georgia  
1846 Turner Duckett born in Habersham County, Georgia.  
1848   Methodist Episcopal, South splits from the Methodist Episcopal Church.
1850 Ducketts censused in Habersham County, Georgia Censused in Newton County, Georgia, Involved in trying to stop the formation of the Congregational Methodist Church.
1852   Opposition to Congregational Methodist Church continues. Congregational Methodist Church founded in Monroe County. Rev. Turner known to be at Rehoboth Church, Georgia – unclear where that is.
1858   Superannuated from the Georgia Conference.
1859   Superannuated from the Georgia Conference.
1860 Turner’s father’s will entered in White County, Georgia. Turner’s family censused in White County. Superannuated, and censused in Newton County, Georgia.
about 1867   Died in Georgia, probably Palmetto.

 + I think that the Augusta District was in Georgia. There is an Augusta United Methodist District now located in north Georgia.

Allen Turner would have needed to be near Habersham County, Georgia to influence the naming patterns of Alfred Hammel/Hamilton Duckett and his wife Melenda Brock.  Habersham County is in northeastern Georgia, on the South Carolina border and quite near North Carolina as well. Thus far, I haven’t found detailed records of his charges in Georgia, but they were in at least the same general vicinity. Methodist circuit riders’ assignments might take 5-6 weeks to cover, preaching every day (whether or not it was Sunday) and visiting every church in a charge at least once a year.

Assuming that our Allen Turner Duckett was named for the Methodist preacher, that raises the question of Why? What about Rev. Turner would cause someone to name their child for him in 1846?

As detailed below, Rev. Turner was briefly the equivalent of a District Superintendent (a “presiding elder”) in 1822 and 1823 in South Carolina, before returning to circuit riding, and saw “signal displays of divine power.” He was a missionary to slaves in Georgia in 1831-32. He is credited with encouraging the founding of Emory University. He went to the 1832 General Conference as a delegate. His churches reported members in “Society” as whites and colored. He went with the Methodist Episcopal Church, South when it split from the Methodist Episcopal Church in 1846, but tried to stop the formation of the Congregational Methodist Church. And, he was quite the character, stubbornly adhering to the ‘old’ ways when younger preachers would shave their beards.

In November 1824, he reported on how things were progressing on the Enoree Circuit, Broad River District, South Carolina:

1826:

1827: (The Little River Circuit, which he served in 1826, has grown from 386/151 to 655/220.)

In 1828, he had the Warren Circuit, Augusta District, South Carolina, one of the bigger circuits, with 828 whites and 331 coloreds in Society (up from 691 and 276, respectively, the previous year).

Two reports of his time as a missionary in 1831-1832. The first is from a book (commissioned by the Methodist Episcopal Church in June 1848, and published in 1855), History of the Great Secession From the Methodist Episcopal Church in the Year 1845, Resulting in the Organization of the New Church, entitled the Methodist Episcopal Church, South:

A later book (1879) reports:

In 1834, just a couple of years after the Georgia Methodist Conference was formed, he spoke in oppostion to sending funds to Randolph-Macon, a Methodist college in Virginia, asserting that the Conference should instead form its own college. Eventually, this gave rise to Emory University, which opened in 1838.




The Methodist Episcopal South schism in 1848 was not the only split from the Methodist Episcopal Church. The Congregational Methodists split off from The Methodist Episcopal Church between 1850-52 and Allen Turner was there. (I think, from a hurried reading, the Congregational Methodists wanted: (a) more involvement of the laity in governing the church and (b) more attention paid to the Sabbath.)






But, not all his fights were over potential schisms in the Methodist church or education. A memorable one was about shaving. From the 1895 book, Biographic Etchings of Ministers and Laymen of the Georgia Conferences (W. J. Scott 1895), we catch a cople of glimpses of Allen Turner’s personality, as remembered nearly thirty years after his death.


 

This excerpt from a 1912 book on Holston Methodism* shows he certainly had a long-lasting impact, forty-five years after his death:

*Holston Methodism, as I understand it, refers today to the Holston Conference of the United Methodist Church – and I think that it comprises Georgia, Tennessee and Virginia.

His nephew, also a Methodist preacher (as were, I think, three of Allen Turner’s brothers), reports (in 1918) that Allen Turner founded the first college for women in the United States.

I suspect that this refers to Allen Turner’s well-documented involvement with the genesis of Emory University. However, Wesleyan College, Macon, Georgia, chartered in 1836 and opened in 1839, claims credit for being “the first college in the world chartered to grant degrees to women.” It started as the Georgia Female College, originally associated with the Methodist Episcopal Church, and then with the Methodist Church in 1843, when it changed names to Wesleyan Female College. It is still affiliated with the United Methodists.

I still don’t know why (or even whether) Allen Turner Duckett was named for the preacher, but Rev. Allen Turner seems to have been a memorable character, with strong beliefs, willing to tell others where they could improve, interested in witnessing to regenerating and sanctifying grace more than focusing on the form of baptism, apparently disinterested in administration, and willing to preach the Gospel to ears of any color — not a bad person to be named for. (Except I think it’s probably OK to wear a beard or even shave on the Sabbath.)

Posted in Allen Turner Duckett, Duckett | 3 Comments