Sowing the Quaker Oats

My first cousins number over forty. Quite a lot and with a big age range. Not too unexpected though, in this traditional and mostly Roman Catholic extended family.
And, it could have been even a greater number had not my parents been a pair of a "sisters that married brothers" foursome.
Family gatherings and reunions on both sides were always well populated.

In today's ramble, I am returning to one heavy limb of the ancestral family tree that I share together with my two sisters and twenty-nine of my many first cousins.
Disclaimer: this is by no means a scholarly treatise but rather, a casual sum of results from my bouncing around on the internet.

Born a Protestant, my ancestor Thomas Wynne most likely converted to Quakerism at the time he married his first wife, Martha Buttall. He embraced the Quaker faith with full enthusiasm, authoring pamphlets, being persecuted and even imprisoned, according to that fountain of global information, Wikipedia.
His daughter, Sidney Wynne married William Chew, also a Quaker.
William and Sidney Wynne's daughter, also Sydney, married Charles Pierpont the senior. Charles was a Quaker.
William and Sidney's daughter Ann married Christopher Randall, maybe not a Quaker.
Charles Pierpont, Jr., son of Charles and Sidney Chew, married Johanna Randall, daughter of Christopher Randall and Ann Chew.
So, Charles the second married his first cousin, Johanna!

Charles Pierpont number two was apparently expelled from the Quaker meeting. My guess is it could be because when he married Johanna, he may have married outside of the Quaker faith, which I learned was a big no-no. While Johanna's mother was born a Quaker, her father Christopher Randall may have had Anglican (Episcopalian) roots since a later Christopher, was a prominent member of St. Thomas, a chapel of ease in Garrison, an extension of St. Paul's parish of Baltimore, gleaned from an online source.
But, not to worry. Charles, jr., in a letter, asked for acceptance for himself and his family back into the Quaker fold. All was forgiven apparently, since some of his children's weddings were witnessed at meetings some years after the date of his expulsion. The Quakers kept some detailed records of their early meetings.

The Quaker tradition continues somewhat with the marriage of Charles and Johanna's daughter, Mary Pierpont to Felix McCurley of Baltimore. Felix was the son of Patrick McCurley and Sarah Webb. Sarah appears to have roots with the Fawn Grove Quaker meeting, near York, PA, (according to another website) but I'm not sure what Felix's affiliation was.
Felix and Sarah were parents of a second Felix whose daughter Felixena, married my Phelps great great grandfather. By the time of this union, the Quaker influence maybe had come to its definite end.

My Quaker forebears were quite prolific.
Thomas Wynne, Sidney's father, had nine children.
William Chew, son of Samuel, was one of eleven.
There was a bit of a dry spell when Anne Chew and the possible non-Quaker Christopher Randall were blessed with just three heirs.
Anne's sister Sidney and her husband Charles produced fourteen little Pierponts.
The family of their son Charles and his cousin Johanna numbered nine more Pierponts. Not a bad number considering that the Quaker Chews may have been shorted a few more descendants when these two first cousins united in marriage.
Their daughter Mary, together with Felix the first, were parents of eight.
My great-great-grandfather, William Clagett Phelps, was just one of two, possibly because his mother, Felixena had died at a young age but she was one of seven born to the second Felix and wife Ann Rebecca.

I am one of many, added to the tiers of second, third, fourth and more cousins, together with those mysterious 'times removed' people, all too numerous to count.
And, while the original Quakers may have been diluted over hundreds of years, their descendent family pot continues to bubble with a porridge of progeny.

Ear Worm

Years ago, my dad and Uncle Sam ventured into the entrepreneurial world and together had a Cities Service gas station. I don't remember too much about it. It was very close to home and we could walk to it. About the same time, we had a portable record player. Hi-Fi, it was. It may have come as some promotion at the gas station. I can't really remember but that gas station and the record player share the same page in my memory book.

There were a few LP records, too. One was the Beavers, a knock off of Alvin and the Chipmunks, maybe. And a collection of Spanish tunes, one in particular that is forever in my brain. Even while writing this I can bring it back to life along with the mental video of my feeble attempts at traditional Spanish dance. Later, Beatles albums were added to my list of favorites.

In high school, the family graduated to a stereo although the kind encased in a cabinet like a piece of furniture. No genuine equalizer but there were speakers and we could adjust the treble and bass levels. Add some headphones and I could be at the concert, listening to Carole King and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young as I lay on the living room floor.

All of those records, together with a few years of piano lessons (enough to learn to read music) and the grade school chorus and church choir were the beginnings of my formal introduction to music and song that wasn't a jump rope ditty or childhood game.

More than eleven years ago, after the death of my husband Steve, I embarked on a different musical journey, taking up the Celtic or folk harp. Why the harp? A woman (she is now a very good friend) played her small harp at Sunday mass and it was beautiful and different.

What began as something to keep me busy, evolved into much more. I was very lucky to find a gifted teacher not too far from my house. A new world of workshops and traditional music introduced me to many wonderful musicians of all ages, ranging from enthusiastic students to accomplished performers. I hopped on a musical bus ride that just keeps on going.

I believe there is no question that certain talents are natural gifts that not everyone shares. I don't consider myself a natural musician. I am getting better at learning by ear but it does not come easily to me. My sister, on the other hand, has a much better ear than me. In my father's family, there was his brother, Uncle Harry, who was said to always have a guitar in his hands and Aunt Nancy's granddaughter, Kelley, is gifted with a beautiful singing voice. On my mother's side, no musicians that I know of although cousin Mike, in Colorado, does a mean karaoke. I myself, still like to sing, though not too well and like many, it is usually a private concert in my car.

Even though music doesn't come naturally to me, I do believe that I am musical. Anyone who has seen me dancing to the oldies with my sisters can see there is at least some innate rhythm, probably my primitive DNA drumming it's way to the surface. Musicality is something we all share in this universe. Many people may not have been gifted with a musical talent, but the fact that they are camping out in a line to buy concert tickets is proof to me that music speaks to them, that they enjoy the melody, the lyrics and the beat. They are indeed, musical.

So, I am enjoying my bus journey with the harp, happy to be a wee bit musical and to dance and sometimes even sing out loud, to the beat of the ear worm, that tune stuck in my head.

Happy Thanksgiving

More than two weeks ago, in the wee morning of a Sunday, the hours in the day fell back to standard time. There are many who dislike the shortening days of the season but I like a brighter morning and I welcomed the time change.

With the lessening of daily sunshine comes the reminder that winter is soon is on the horizon.
But it's really difficult to think about being ready for cold weather and the coming holidays when we are enjoying an extended and beautiful Indian summer. There's is always a to-do list that needs attention and I find myself eager to tackle those jobs that have me outside and sometimes those more important indoor ones must wait.

And I don't feel guilty any more in leaving things undone, having learned that enjoying a walk with a friend is one of those chores on that to-do list.

I am thankful.

Wishing everyone a peaceful and happy Thanksgiving.

What's In A Name?

Hoping to unravel a little more of the ancestors ownership of land, this morning I found myself revisiting mdlandrec.net, Maryland's online land record search. This is great resource for anyone doing genealogy or if you are just interested in how your neighborhood came to be named.

Today, was a look at the Howard County records. Unlike Baltimore County, they do not have copies of the actual records online but they do provide information on where to find it. I think the county's Historical Society can access the database and you can also make a visit to the Maryland archives in Annapolis.

It's apparent that there was no system of addresses like street names, etc. yet in place. And, you could name your piece whatever you desired, it seems. I am sorry to say, I completely lost all sensibility while reading some names of the land parcels. Here is a sampling from the years 1670 to 1771. Actual names are in boldface.

Doughreaghan Manor, the manorial estate of Charles Carroll, seems to be at the top of the acquisition list, with 10,000 and 7,000 acres and Charles didn't stop there, acquiring other pieces of property, miniscule in comparison to the home place.

Some bore place names, memories of the old country, I think,  like Edinburgh, Caledonia (at 11638 acres, a joint effort of individuals to keep up with the Carrolls, perhaps) and even Lapland. The owners were a learned lot too, with To Be Or Not To Be, Terra Eacultabalis (my high school Latin fails me) and Grecian Siege. A bit of religion is thrown in with Ash Wednesday  and you prayed that your Mount Gilboa was a Mount Hope and definitely not a Mount Misery. Another one  has me thinking it could be an epitaph, I Have Been A Great While At Rest. The royals and nobles are remembered too, Good Will To His Lordship and Fredericksburgh.

Was there a story behind Find Out If You Can, Molly's Delight, Sally's Chance,  Robinson's Mistake or Dorsey's Advantage and Joshua's Loss? (Did someone gamble unwisely at cards?) Could there be a favored nephew remembered fondly with Unkle's Good Will? And then there is the amateur genealogist's dream, September 14, 1739 I Was Born John Hammond, Son Of John.

It was definitely a struggle back in the 1700's with Poor Man's Beginning at just 100 acres. Life could be full of Disappointment, Little Worth or even Worthless, with Poverty Discovered while dealing with Strife and much Hard Grubbing, and all was easily Lost By Neglect. It was a life that was Hard To Get And Dear Paid For, Costly  and Watts Left or What is Left  could be Anything at 56 acres which was certainly better than Something at 26 acres and Fire Tongs.

And you hoped to maybe have good neighbors if you lived at Ill Neighborhood, Neighbors Spite and Dunghill Ground Thicket, but it could be a wee bit uncomfortable if you lived at Pork Plenty If No Thieves and the farm next door was Chandlers Slaughter.

But not all was doom and gloom as you Look Sharp and the Dispute Ended with Peace or at least, Titt For Tatt  and you could be Content with five acres instead of seeking more Contentment with 350 acres, basking in the Silence of your Beautiful Croft and your Second Addition to Snowden's Cowpen.

In Conclusion, I can only say you are probably glad I have reached The Finish of today's rambling.  

Bear That In Mind, Part Two

My home is in the Granite area of Baltimore County. I have been here nearly thirty eight years.
Some people have not heard of it so I just tell them I am sort of southwest of Randallstown, very near the county line at the Patapsco River.

There is a road closure less than two miles from my house. Part of a retaining wall supporting a small section of Woodstock Road was washed away in the same storm that sent a devastating flood through Ellicott City in July. One detour route to Howard County has me traveling along Marriottsville road, crossing the Patapsco River further west. It is a rural and winding way through a quarry and past a gun club firing range. A section of the Patapsco River State Park, McKeldin area, is accessed from this road. There is a small but genuine rapid on the river here, maybe the only one, that is easy to get to.

Today's bear in mind thought has to do with a child of ancestors William Chew and Sidney Wynne. Daughter Ann, my 7th great grandmother, married a fellow by the name of Christopher Randall. Christopher and his brother Thomas apparently operated a tavern on what was then known as the Liberty turnpike, the beginnings of Randallstown, sometime in the early 1700s. Land deeds online indicate that he must have been prosperous since he acquired other parcels of land. One of special interest is "Good Fellowship", a land grant from Lord Baltimore, its patent even mentioning the falls of the Patapsco as a reference point in the survey. Has me wondering if the falls are the present day  rapids mentioned above. And if I may have hiked in his woods.

Woodstock is just across the bridge from Granite where there is a lovely old farm called Mount Pleasant, the home of "Patuxent Ranger" Thomas Browne and his descendants. It is now the Howard County Conservancy, an environmental education center. I have tramped through the farmland there. Acreage from "Good Fellowship" became part of Mount Pleasant. And I have learned how. Christopher's son Aquila was willed this land. Aquila married Margaret Browne, daughter of Thomas.

Unbelievable.
It seems I am spun from a spider's web of ancestral family relationships.
And, unbeknownst to me until just now, I returned to one of the cobwebs decades ago.

Bear That In Mind, Part One

Sometimes I wonder why my brain just doesn't implode. There are facts upon facts stored in there and even more useless trivia. It's a great day when I have that 'why did I walk in here' moment and can actually remember. And yet, I still enjoy learning even more new facts.

In the previous post I mentioned the phrase, bear that in mind. I first heard this used by Micky Nolan. Micky was our wonderful bus driver and tour guide during a visit to Ireland fifteen years ago. It was reminder to hang onto a nugget of information that would be explained later in his most Irish way. My knowledge of fairy trees is forever burned in my brain because of Micky.

I had also mentioned the land grant, Chews Resolution, the site of Avoca House, built by Arthur Pue. Online genealogy tells me that Arthur's mother was Mary Dorsey, the daughter of Caleb Dorsey, of Belmont. Having a prominent Howard County name, Dorsey, guaranteed success in finding these family members of old. So, we have a link between Avoca and Belmont.
Somewhere along the way, Caleb Dorsey became owner of Chews Resolution. When, why and how?

Caleb's son, Edward Dorsey, was married to Henrietta Maria Chew great great granddaughter of Colonel Samuel Chew, my 9th great grand papa, of Anne Arundel County fame. (More free facts from the internet genealogy.) Did Caleb buy it as a wedding gift for his son? Who knows?

What I do know now is that the builder of Avoca, Arthur, is possibly a cousin, somewhere between 3rd to 8th with probably just as many times removed, far away enough to make my head hurt.

And, I think I can safely say that Chews Resolution likely did stay in the family, or at least the cousin's family, if in a roundabout way.

More next time.

Don't call me Your Highness?

Because of the huge lapse of time in visiting my blogger, I had found myself in a state of total confusion. I had completely forgotten about starting fresh with a new blogspot name and everything. And now, nearly three years to the exact day of the new beginning, I think I have arrived at some sort of sense of what I am doing here. Thoughts on anything will be the theme, I think.

Last month, my sisters and I visited the Howard County decorator show house, Avoca, in the Ellicott City area. I did my homework and read about the house proir to seeing it and my interest was piqued. The house is sited on what was originally a 1695 land grant named Chews Resolution and Chews Vineyard. I have a Chew ancestor, my 9th great grandfather named Samuel.
Was this the family estate?

As it turned out, it wasn't his house since it was built in 1802. Papa Sam was born about 1630. I don't know if he ever lived in the area, known then as Elk Ridge. He apparently was a person of prominence in Anne Arundel County. Maidstone in present day Calvert County was his family seat. (The property in the 1695 land grant apparently changed hands and I believe it became part of Belmont, a lovely estate near Elkridge, MD, built by Caleb Dorsey. Bear this in mind.)

This tidbit of information sent me looking online for Papa Sam and his family. His father John was born in England and was a settler in the Jamestown colony. Samuel and his wife Ann Ayres of Virginia had eleven children and their son William was my 8th great grandfather. William was married to Sidney Wynne. And here it gets very interesting. Sidney was born in Wales. Her father was Thomas Wynne, personal physician to William Penn and like him, a Quaker. William and Sidney had eight children and their daughter Anne is my 7th great grandmother. (Bear this in mind, too.)

Thomas Wynne was apparently a direct lineal descendant of a prince of Wales with an unpronounceable name for my English tongue. In my blood flows the the DNA of royalty. No need to bow lower than the minute speck my DNA requires. I share this royal status with many millions of others, I'm sure.