The Diary of Mary Ann Shrock Burns

Note: As part of Women's History Month, this blog post honors Mary Ann Shrock Burns as one of America's many women settlers who lived in adverse conditions and during difficult times that included dangerous cross country moves, illness, death, and war. 

As many family history researchers will attest, any document created by an ancestor and preserved over time, is a valuable find.  This fact is especially true when the document is a handwritten diary that contains very personal family history that spans over fifty years. The subject of this blog post today, the “Religious Diary of Mrs. Mary Ann (Shrock) Burns,” is all that and more.  For at least two Attala and Madison County families, Burns and Shrock, it is indeed, a priceless family treasure. 

I first became aware of the diary when a Burns family descendant, searching online for  family information in Attala County, Mississippi, stumbled upon this blog and contacted me.  After we had exchanged several emails and various bits of family history information, my contact, an Oklahoma resident, told me about the diary and offered to send me a copy of its transcription.  Based on conversations with my contact, the original diary was found among Mary Ann's possessions. Later, the diary was transcribed and was donated by one of Mary Ann's granddaughters to a museum near where her grandmother died. Although I am not related to the Shrock family or to the Burns family, at least as far as I know, some of my own ancestors lived for decades in Attala County, Mississippi, in close proximity to members of the Schrock family. And it was for that reason, as well as the fact that I write about Mississippi genealogy, that I was pleased when my contact offered to mail a copy of the transcription to me. Our agreement was that I would read the diary, write a blog post about its contents, and donate it to the Attala County Library in Kosciusko, Mississippi. My contact asked only that I honor the museum's request that the transcription itself would not be scanned and made available on the internet. The copy in my temporary possession is a reproduction of the diary’s transcription, part of the Hildegard & Richard Wheeler Collection, contained within the holdings of the E. A. Arnim Archives & Museum in Flatonia, Texas. It was there, in Fayette County, Texas, that Mary Ann Shrock Burns, her husband, William Dennis Burns, and other family members would later settle, where they died, and where they are also buried.

Since I am one of "those people" who often look first through the index of a book, and on occasion, read a few pages near the end, I thumbed through the transcription of the diary to see what I could find. And in this case, I was pleased to find vital information about the Shrock family recorded at the end of the diary. Dates and places of births, as well as dates of marriages and dates and locations of deaths, helped me to better understand names and events contained within the diary's contents. I found that Mary Ann Schrock was born on December 28, 1812, the daughter of Henry and Mary Shrock, and the third oldest of seven daughters and one son born to that couple. Her oldest sister, Elizabeth, was born on March 3, 1809, and Catherine Houseman Shrock, the next oldest of her sisters, was born on March 13, 1811. Grace Shrock, almost two years younger than Mary Ann, was born on November 26, 1814. Two younger sisters, Sarah Shrock, born on May 6, 1817, and Nancy Shrock, who was born on August 17, 1819, completed the list of Shrock daughters.  Mary Ann's only brother was Joseph Kilpatrick Shrock, born about 1821.

When Mary Ann Shrock began to keep her diary on March 22, 1837, she did so with the intention that she had that day “covenanted afresh to the Lord’s” and desired to “be more devoted to his service.”  According to information recorded at the back of the diary, by early 1837, Miss Mary Ann Shrock was an unmarried 25 year old woman who had already experienced enough grief for several lifetimes. On July 4, 1824, she had lost her mother to "bilious fever," and shortly after her mother's death, her sister, Martha Jane Shrock, died in October of 1827.  Tragedy soon struck the Shrock family three more times, when her sister Gracie died, also from bilious fever, when she was only 17 years old, Catherine H. Shrock died at age 18, and her youngest sister, Sarah, died at age 19. Mary Ann's diary states her father remained a widower for eight years before he married for a second time.  According to details included in a diary entry dated November 4, 1852, Henry Shrock "sold out" in South Carolina and in the spring of 1834, moved to an area of Madison County, Mississippi, known as Camden. Other former residents of Camden, South Carolina would call Camden, Mississippi "home," including an early Mississippi Governor, William McWillie, and Chapman Levy, the latter of whom would later serve in Mississippi's legislature. 

In an early diary entry dated August 18, 1838, Mary Ann Shrock's words convey homesickness and sadness as she wrote of being “deprived of some precious friends by death, being removed several hundred miles from the place of my nativity......cast among strangers where there appears to be but little religious.” Almost a year later, in an entry written from Mount Olive and dated July 12, 1839, she seemed joyful in spirit when she wrote that she had “entered into a matrimonial conversion..,” and was now filling “the important station of wife and mother, my dear companion having five children before our marriage.” She added that her step-children “appear fond of me and I love them dearly, and am well pleased with my new home, (and) think I have one of the best of husbands.”  According to information that appears on the last pages of the transcription, Mary Ann Shrock married William Dennis Burns on May 15, 1839. At the time of their marriage, Mary would have been 26 years old and Dennis, 45.

Although Mary Ann's entries were somewhat infrequent after her marriage, at least for the first several years, she continued to write about her family and her strong faith in God. That faith would be severely tested shortly after her marriage, when, on December 2, 1839, Mary Ann's oldest step-son “killed himself accidentally with a gun.....in the 21st year of his age."  Mary’s quiet observation in the diary entry was “Mysterious are the ways of providence," and the impact of the incident apparently caused her to write of her concern to “to live every day as if it were her last.” According to her diary entry dated July 31, 1842, Mary Ann had given birth to two sons since her marriage in 1839 to Dennis Burns, and according to the account, their youngest son was just twelve months old.  In the same entry, Mary Ann notes that she and Dennis have four older daughters who also live at home.

Over the next forty-plus years, Mary Ann Shrock Burns made time to include details in her diary that would chronicle the birth of more children, tell about the death of a baby girl, describe family illnesses, including information about her own “various trials and afflictions,” and would tell about several family moves. In an entry dated November 30, 1856, Mary Ann describes the loss of her baby daughter, sadly writing "Gave birth to an infant, a daughter, that never opened its eyes to behold the sad earth made its early escape to the paradise of God." Various diary entries provided brief insights into the family's moves from Madison County to Forest Hill, to two separate places in Mount Olive, and to Steam Mill, in Attala County, Mississippi, the latter in early 1855. During the time she lived near Steam Mill, Mary Ann expressed feelings of concern when she wrote in her diary of being "shut out from society" and "deprived of church privileges." She wrote of her longing to "see the work of God received in this neighborhood," and the wish that "the time (would) soon come when we shall see the wilderness rejoice and the desert blossom as a rose." In an entry dated April 20, 1858, Mary prays for strength as she writes that her "dear father (Henry Shrock) has closed his eyes in death. He passed away the 11th, .......after suffering for some months, both bodily and mentally."

The next year, on November 2, 1859, Mary Ann writes that she has "left my home in Attala County, Mississippi, Oct. 25th. Have been on the road eight days, am now on the west bank of the great Miss. river, have had a pleasant time, excepting the dust. Passed Oakland College this morning.  visited the burying ground before sun rise saw the tombs of some who had come from the far east to seek their fortunes in the south.  We go to the far west."  Mary Ann's next diary entry is dated May 11, 1861, when she writes "We have again changed our home, are now living in Fayette Co. (TX)."

Over the next several years, according to her diary entries, Mary Ann would see three sons go off to fight in the Civil War. On August 8, 1863, she writes that one of the sons, Billie "....reached home two days ago in tottering health, after being shut up in Vicksburg 48 days living on half rations and then walking one hundred miles home.  Nothing short of the power and goodness of God could have brought him safe through."  A subsequent entry on November 8, 1863, states "My dear Billie, after remaining with us two months has again been called out in defense of his country, to be again exposed to the evils of camp life." The entry includes a prayer that he will be preserved from harm. On May 8, 1864, Mary Ann states she is "now called to give up my Joseph to go in defense of our country, which is a hard trial as he is feeble in health." And she again prays for the well-being of yet another son gone off to war. Mary Ann's prayers would be answered, according to a diary entry on May 28, 1865, when she fervently wrote "My three sons have returned home in safety....."

Although three of Mary Ann's sons lived through the Civil War, another son died on June 4, 1862. According to a diary entry made on June 4, 1878, Mary Ann lamented the sixteenth anniversary of the death of her son, Henry, who "was buried in a distant land, in a soldier's burying ground.....O, who will take care of mother now."

Almost three years later, on May 6, 1868, Mary Ann writes "Oh, what scenes of sorrow and affliction have I passed through since my last entry. My dear husband after twelve days of great suffering closed his eyes in death on.....3rd of May.....O, how dreary does the world appear to me now." On January 3, 1869, Mary would write "He (Dennis) was a good man, and a kind husband and father." And during the next decade, she would continue to mourn the loss of her beloved husband in diary entries written on anniversaries of his birth and of his death. According to information contained in one of those entries, William Dennis Burns had been born in 1794.

Mary Ann Shrock Burns, a woman of intense courage, great faith, and a sincere belief in an eternal future, continued to live in Fayette County, Texas, near living loved ones, until her death on September 10, 1887.  She is buried near her husband in Pine Springs Cemetery, near Flatonia, Texas.  

Ghosts of Our Ancestors

This article was written to commemorate Black History Month in the United States and to remind us of the contributions made by so many African Americans, as well as those with biracial and mutiracial heritage, to the history of our country.

A few years ago, after I became aware that I had a Gibson great-great-great grandfather, I began my search for Gibson ancestors with virtually no facts at all. Little did I know, however, how much information I would discover about this family. My research found that much of what has been written about the Gibson family in America concerns this family's biracial roots, ones that began in Virginia and continued as the family migrated into North and South Carolina and on to Georgia, Tennessee, Mississippi, Louisiana and places beyond. Today, descendants of the early Gibson family of Virginia can be counted in the hundreds of thousands.

My Gibson story began with one man, John P. Gibson. All I knew in the beginning was that he had been born around 1799 in South Carolina, and he first appeared on a U. S. Census record in Mississippi in 1860. I later found that he had married Margaret J. Williams, born around 1820, in Monroe County, Mississippi on January 3, 1843. Through U. S. Census records recorded in Mississippi in 1860 and 1870, I found that John and Margaret Gibson became parents of seven children. One of their daughters, Malverda Gibson, later became my paternal great-great-grandmother. But along the research road, I found not only information about my South Carolina Gibson family and its descendants, but a treasure trove of interesting books and published articles about the biracial and multiracial heritage of this country.

One such book was "The Free State of Jones," written by Victoria E. Bynum and published by the University of North Carolina Press. This publication, a portion of which is available on Google Books, begins with an interesting quote by Sam Dabney, taken from James Street's "Tap Roots," published in 1943:

"We can't boast of our ancestors, because when we get started talking about our families, out jumps the ghost of a pirate or a cousin of color."

A reference to America's rich racial heritage, contained in Victoria Bynum's book, states that racial sentiments in the South "evolved over a period of three centuries." She states that "by the 1840's, claims of Indian, Iberian (Spanish), or Mediterranean (Moorish) ancestry, defended one's whiteness against race-based laws and social harassment." Gideon Gibson, a "light-skinned slaveholder of partially African ancestry" and a member of South Carolina's so-called Regulator Movement, is mentioned in Bynum's publication as a person who exemplified how racial identity was often "fluid" and "even negotiable in some cases."

Bynum goes on to say that "many of Gideon Gibson's descendants, migrated west in search of whiteness as well as lands." We know this is true, since some of the descendants of South Carolinians, Gideon Gibson, Jacob Gibson, and Jordan Gibson, eventually settled in the state of Mississippi prior to the Civil War. Their lives and the lives of some of their descendants have been well-documented in historical publications about several southern states, including Mississippi and Louisiana. Often, these publications mention the ethnicity of Gibson family ancestors.

One thing that is known for sure is that regardless of whether a person was labeled as a Mulatto, Mestizo, Mustee, Melungeon, Creole, Cajun, Redbone, or similar names denoting something other than an "all white" ancestry, racial "mixing" has occurred throughout American history. And it has not occurred only in the South Carolina backcountry and other states commonly known as "The South." Class consciousness was widespread and very real in the 1800s; it became common for those who had migrated from the colonies, including North and South Carolina, to portray their ancestors as aristocratic patriots and slaveholders. The facts, when known, often revealed that many of these "aristocratic" ancestors were actually Regulators, itinerant preachers, and even Tories.

In my quest to find my own Gibson ancestors, I found that members of this South Carolina family were not only involved in the infamous Regulator movement in that state, but their descendants later became civic and governmental leaders in Mississippi, Louisiana and Kentucky. The involvement of Gibson family members in business and politics has been well-documented. One well-known Gibson descendant, Randall Gibson, was instrumental in the founding of Tulane University, while another descendant, Tobias Gibson, is credited with the spread of Methodism in the South.

An interesting bit of history that I stumbled upon during this research that began with the Gibson family was the story of Dr. Walter Ashby Plecker, a small-town doctor who became the Registrar of Virginia's Bureau of Vital Statistics in 1912. Dr. Plecker's views about racial mixing became the impetus for the passage of the Racial Integrity Law of 1924, commonly referred to as "Plecker's Law." Details about this law can be read on the University of Virginia's website, in an article entitled "Battles in Red, White, and Black."

This law became Virginia's infamous "one drop" statute, and its language created two racial categories, "pure" white and everybody else. The law's passage allowed Dr. Plecker to pursue his alliance with John Powell of the Anglo-Saxon Clubs of America in waging an all-out war against the mixing of the races. One of his efforts entailed a push for "ancestral registration." Virginians were reluctant to comply with the idea of "ancestral registration," even though the state had already passed the first anti-miscegenation law in 1662. At that time, "passing" as white may have been rather commonplace, but proof of racial purity was difficult to obtain.

Plecker's method involved identifying racial impurity by compiling a list of family surnames that were "known" to be "mixed." The list was arranged by Virginia counties and included the names of "racially mixed" families who lived in these counties.

Counties and surnames included in "Plecker's List," as this list became known, appear below:

Amherst County:

Pumphrey (Migrants to Allegheny and Campbell) Adcock (Adcox), Beverly (according to Dr. Plecker, this family was trying to evade the situation by adopting the name of Burch or Birch, which was believed to be the name of the white mother of the adult generation at the time), Branham, Clark, Duff, Floyd, Hamilton, Hartless, Hicks, Johns, Lawless, Nukles (Knuckles), Painter, Ramsey, Redcross, Roberts, Southwards (Suthards, Southerds, Southers), Sorrells, Terry, Tyree, Willis, and Wood

Bedford County:

Branham, Burley (See Amherst), Cash, Clark, Coleman, Duff, Floyd, Hartless, Hicks, Johns, McVey, Mason, Maxey, Mayse (Mays), Painters, Pults, Ramsey, and Wood

Charles City County:

Adams, Allmond, Collins, Custalow (Custaloo), Dennis, Doggett, Dungoe, Hawkes, Holmes, Howell, Langston, Miles, Page, Spurlock, Stewart, and Wynn

Caroline County:

Byrd and Fortune

Henrico and Richmond City:

See Charles City, New Kent, and King William

King William County:

Adams, Allmond, Bolnus, Bradby, Collins, Custalow (Custaloo), Dennis, Doggett, Dungoe, Hawkes, Howell, Langston, Miles, Page, Spurlock, Stewart, Wynn

Nelson County:

See Essex

New Kent County:

Adkins, Bradby, Collins, Langston, Stewart, and Wynn

Elizabeth City and Newport News:

Stewart (descendants of Charles City families)

Essex and King and Queen Counties:

Brooks, Broughton, Byrd, Cooper, Fortune, Hammond, Mitchell, Prince, Nelson, Robinson, and Tate.

Elizabeth City and Newport News:

Stewart (descendants of Charles City families)

Fauquier County:

Colvin, Hoffman (Huffman), Phillips (See Prince William) and Riley

Greene County:

Shifflett, Shiflet

Halifax County:

Epps (Eppes), Stewart (Stuart), Coleman, Johnson, Martin, Sheppard, Shepard, Talley, and Young

Lancaster County:

Dawson (aka Dorsey)

Lee County County:

Bolden (Bolin), Bunch, Collins, Delph, Freeman, Gibson (Gipson), Goins, Hawkins, Mise (Mize), Moore, Mullins, Ramsey (chiefly "Tennessee "Melungeons")

Norfolk County and Portsmouth:

Bass, Bright, King, Locklear (Locklair), Porter, Sawyer, and Weaver

Prince William County:

Tyson, Segar (see Fauquier)

Lancaster County:

Dorsey (Dawson)

Roanoke County:

Beverly (see Washington)

Rockbridge County:

Southerds (see Amherst), Sorrell, Terry, Tyree, and Wood (including migrants to Amherst Co.)

Scott:

Dingus (see Lee County)

Smythe County:

See Lee County

Russell County:

Castell, Keith, Meade, Proffitt, and Stillwell, also see Lee and Tazewell Counties

Washington County:

Barlow, Beverly, Hughes, Lethcoe, Thomas, and Worley

Westmoreland County:

Atwells, Butridge, Okiff (Okeefe), Sorrells, Worlds (Worrell)

Wise County:

See Lee, Scott, Smyth, and Russell Counties

Surname Saturday

Last week's new "cousin matches" to my Ancestry DNA results have prompted me to add a few surnames to the list I've posted here several times in the past.  If you would like to determine the makeup of your own genetic DNA, and find some cousins, too, go to Ancestry.com and click on the DNA tab at the top of the page.  I submitted my DNA sample about a year ago, and got the results back about three weeks later.  What I found was this. My genetic ancestry is 67% Scandinavian, 7% Eastern European, and 26% British Isles. The test was easy and fast, and in less than a year, I already have over 100 "cousin matches. "

So here goes with a revised list of surnames.  If you see a name here that matches one belonging to an ancestor of yours, I would love to hear from you.  Maybe we can share some information that help add another branch or leaf to my ever-growing "family tree."

Atwood
Baskin
Baldridge
Branch
Coddington
Coggins
Fenner
Garrard
Gibson
Marble
Merriweather
Middleton
Motte
Neatherlin/Neatherland
Pettus
Porter
Ragland
Tighlman/Tilman/Tillman
Thornton
Tinsley
Trigleth
Williams

Former Mississippian Stokes McMillan Wins 2012 Mississippi Author Award

A couple of years ago, I had the pleasure of reviewing here on this blog One Night of Madness, a book written by Stokes McMillan, a native of Attala County, Mississippi.  It was McMillan's first book, a true account of events that happened in that county, in the racially-charged 1950s.  According to the author, a series of photographs taken by his father who worked for the local family-owned newspaper in Kosciusko, Mississippi, the Star-Herald, was the impetus for the book. McMillan's gripping tale of  murder and mayhem in rural Mississippi is well-researched and written and is spell-binding as the events in the story unfold. The book was published in 2009 and was very well-received, earning McMillan an EDGAR award the next year. A husband, father of three sons, and a grandfather, McMillan is a graduate of Mississippi State University and retired last year from a long engineering career with NASA in Houston, Texas. His plans to write another book are on hold, at least for the present, since he is currently involved in a second career working for a private company in Colorado.

Fast forward to 2012.....

McMillan and his book seem to have made an impact on the literary world, at least in Mississippi, as evidenced by a recent article in Publishers Weekly. The transcript of that article is included below.

"Stokes McMillan's self-published book, One Night of Madness, was named winner of the 2012 Mississippi Author Award.  Inspired by articles written by his journalist father in 1950, McMillan's One Night of Madness is the true story of how local, white citizens in the pre-civil rights South unite to hunt down racist white murderers in a small Mississippi town.  A book with an unusual story gains a unique honor with the win.  According to vice president Lynn Shurden, 'this is the first time that I'm aware a self-published book has son.' Published in paperback through Amazon's CreateSpace in November 2009, the book has sold modestly with around 4,000 copies to date. 'Due to my very busy day job, I have not been actively pushing it so sales have slowed accordingly.  I have, however, signed a contract with a movie producer who is working to make it into a movie,' McMillan said. Past winners of the Mississippi Author Award include Eudora Welty, Charlaine Harris, and Kathryn Stockett.  One Night of Madness previously won a gold medal Independent Publishers Book Award in 2010.  McMillan is represented by Wendy Schmalz of the Wendy Schmalz Agency."

Stokes McMillan and his book are now part of Mississippi's literary history, and his name is among others on a hallowed list of authors who call that state "home." Although he is staying busy with other projects at the moment, I predict we will see more of McMillan's talented story-telling. 

Stay tuned.

It's All In The Name

Our names are important - they belong to us alone and make us unique. At least, that was once the case in a less populated universe.  Interestingly, naming conventions have evolved over centuries based on geography, ethnicity, and cultural and societal norms. In early England, one’s surname was usually a locational name, designating the place where a man held his land or where he already lived. After the Norman conquest of 1066, a few individuals passed on hereditary surnames, but most of the population seemed to exist fairly well without the use of more than one name. As the number of people in a specific geographic area grew, surnames emerged out of labels that distinguished an individual’s occupation or trade, such as baker, cook, cooper, and porter. As the population increased, the use of surnames to denote heredity increased in popularity, and by the14th century, most of the population had acquired a second name.

Prior to the mid-nineteenth century, families used the patronymic naming system to name their male children. In other words, a child’s personal name, consisting most often of a first name and a middle name, was the same as that of an earlier male ancestor. Generally speaking, firstborn sons commonly were named for the child’s father or grandfather. Female children also were named using a similar system, meaning they were named for female ancestors or another close family member. The primary purpose of each naming concept was to convey lineage.  But more often than not, offspring born to more than one sibling bore similar names, and the practice created confusion not only in extended families, but to family history researchers as they attempted decades later to develop a family tree. By the turn of the nineteenth century, most American families had discarded these naming conventions, although the custom remains in place today in a number of locations throughout the world.

When I first attempted to unravel the traditional names given to sons and daughters of my own ancestors a number of years ago, an article published in "The Genealogical Helper Magazine” explaining naming conventions proved helpful to me. According to the article, a family’s oldest son was named for his paternal grandfather.  Second and third sons were named for the maternal grandfather and the father’s paternal grandfather, respectively. A fourth son was named for his mother’s paternal grandfather, a fifth son was named for his father’s maternal grandfather, and a sixth son was named for his mother’s maternal grandfather. Daughters were named in a similar fashion, with the first daughter born named for her maternal grandmother and the second daughter named for her paternal grandmother. A third daughter born to the family was named for her mother’s maternal grandmother, and fourth and fifth daughters were named for the mother’s paternal grandmother and the father’s paternal grandmother, respectively.  If a sixth daughter was born to the couple, her name was predetermined to be the name of her father’s maternal grandmother. The entire concept invited duplicity of names and general confusion.

As strange as the convention may seem to us today, it was customary, also, to name the next daughter or son born within a second marriage for the deceased husband or wife. If a father died before a male child was born, the infant was named for his deceased father.  Similarly, if a mother died in childbirth and the child was a girl, the father named his infant daughter for his deceased wife.

Although history tells us that our personal names evolved for the simple purpose of establishing family lineage or for identifying heredity, names have become vital links needed to function in today’s social and economic settings. But our names are much more.....they link us to our families, past and present, and they tie us to future generations to come.  As the saying goes, “It’s all in the name.”

The Pee Dee River Colony in SC

This post was first published on my original blog, Attala County Memories, on September 30, 2008. 

Pee Dee River Valley (SC)

Many who settled in the north central area of the Mississippi Territory and later migrated, sometimes en masse, to the counties formed there after statehood from Alabama, Georgia, North and South Carolina, and Virginia. came from South Carolina. It is a well-known bit of history that many of those who settled in Attala County, Mississippi and in the surrounding area came there from the Pee Dee River in South Carolina. This area is sometimes called "the low country" or the coastal area because of its proximity to the marshlands of South Carolina.

Recently, while reading a book entitled "Black Indians, A Hidden Heritage,"written by William Loren Katz, I found some interesting information about the Pee Dee River area. According to Katz, the story of the Pee Dee River area is quite unique, and he calls it "the first foreign colony on U. S. soil." It seems that Lucas Vasquez de Ayllon, a wealthy Spanish official who lived in Santo Domingo on Hispaniola, founded a colony in the area in June 1526. The settlement, Katz says, was founded "six decades before Roanoke Island, eight decades before Jamestown, and almost a century before the Mayflower landed at Plymouth Rock."

Katz believes that De Ayllon's effort was perhaps overlooked for two reasons: first, because most historians prefer to believe that life in the new world actually began when Anglo-Saxons who were British citizens and spoke English arrived; secondly, Ayllon's settlement suffered a tragic fate, including death, disease, and a slave revolt. Although the settlement"failed" in Ayllon's eyes, the inhabitants who survived these tragedies were reborn as a different people in the woods to which they escaped, and according to Katz, they were "not considered a part of the white U. S. heritage."

The two explorers sent to the New World were Captain Francisco Gordillo, who was charged with locating a suitable landing site and with building friendly relationships with the native inhabitants or local tribesmen, and a slavehunter, Pedro de Quexos. Their efforts during the initial landing included capturing seventy Native Americans, free men and women, and taking them to Santo Domingo to serve as slaves. De Ayllon was not pleased and with the assistance of Diego Columbus, "the Indians were declared free and ordered returned." Spanish records fail to show whether the order was actually carried out. Sometime later, after his explorers landed on the wrong coast and had to return to Santo Domingo, Ayllon formed another crew and sailed with other Spanish citizens who were his followers and settled near a "great river...probably the Pee Dee."

Sailing from Puerto de la Plata were a total of "six vessels carrying five hundred Spanish men and women, one hundred enslaved Africans, six or seven dozen horses, and physicians, sailors, and Dominican priests." As the ships arrived, the Native Americans who lived in the area took to the woods to escape the newly-arrived settlers. The Spanish colonists had difficulty coping with the climate, growing the food they needed, and adverse living conditions quickly caused uprisings within the colony. The discord that resulted caused many of the Africans to flee into the woods and live with the Native Americans. De Ayllon became ill and died, but he had named his nephew, John Ramirez to succeed him after death.

And thus the Pee Dee Colony, or "San Miguel de Gualdape" grew to be an amalgamation of people, Native Americans, Africans, and those who spoke Spanish as their native language.

Genealogy and Adoption

Last year, over 120,000 adoptions occurred in this country, and according to statistics, approximately five million of all U.S. residents are adopted. Of course, this number does not include tens of thousands of other children who have been living without the benefit of adoption in foster care or with close relatives or family friends. Contemporary adoptions, often in concept, seem to be an accepted part of today’s culture. They are celebrated by families and friends with the same fervor and happiness that surrounds the birth of any new baby. 

But this fairly new attitude towards adoption in general was not a societal norm in years past. As those of us who are older can attest, adoptions occurring during our generation, as well as those before, were more likely to be cloaked in mystery, surrounded with silence, whispered about in secret, and sometimes hidden from others, even from the adopted child. Speaking from the standpoint of a family history researcher, this practice, along with few or no available records documenting so-called adoptions, an otherwise uneventful family research event can come to a screeching halt. 

 How to proceed successfully with genealogy research depends on any number of factors, such as the existence of oral history that discusses the adoption, handwritten information, including entries made in a family Bible, personal diaries, or names and details found in wills. But the unavailability of many of these records often causes the researcher to hit what is known in genealogy circles as the proverbial brick wall. More often than not, guardianships and adoptions during the last two centuries resulted when one or both parents died, often from disease, illness, accident, or sometimes war. And in countless situations, other family members may have assumed care of an orphaned child, even changing the child’s surname, with or without the benefit of a legal document. Other adoptions occurred as a result of various societal issues, such as unplanned or unwanted pregnancies, child abandonment, addiction, or incarceration. In these situations, child welfare or other public agencies may have been involved, and laws in place at the time dictated that discretion be used to ensure confidentiality and to protect the identity of the people involved. 

The resulting information, or lack thereof, has created major problems for adoptees, their descendants, and family researchers alike in answering questions about ancestry. If a child was adopted from a children’s home or orphanage, depending on the type of facility, the year, and the state, some records may be available to the researcher. But depending on when, where, and how the adoption actually occurred, particularly if the process was a "closed" adoption, legal assistance may be needed to determine the existence of records and to help obtain copies, if they are indeed releasable. If the surname of the adopted child at birth was the same as that of the adoptive parents, the fact that an actual adoption occurred may be less obvious to the researcher. In this particular situation, oral history and the possible comparison of census records that list names of family members in several households, may be the only available sources of information. 

Without a doubt, connection to family is a vital part of our lives. And the search for our ancestors most often results from our need to be part of a the larger universe, to know more about who we are and from whence we came, and to understand how we fit into a bigger picture. With the concept of open adoptions, maybe it will be easier in the future for those who have been adopted and family researchers alike to obtain parents’ names and relevant family information. 

According to Judith and Martin Land in Adoption Detective: The Adopted Child," secrecy and lack of disclosure in adoptions can result in what has been referred to as "genealogical bewilderment." In their book, published in 2011, the authors point out that discovery of genealogical roots can be a pathway to understanding an individual’s true inner being and the potential source of psychological grounding.  Although the reference is specifically directed to adoptees who are searching for birth parents, the same premise is true for those of us who are not adopted and who search for ancestors from generations past about whom we may know nothing at all.