Saturday, May 9, 2026

Decoration Day’s Importance in Our Family: 52 Ancestors 2026 Prompt “Tradition”

 

Bringing Flowers to the Graves: Grandma Macbeth Carried on a Tradition

Nora Elsie Hoffman Macbeth: 1899-1994

 

This week’s prompt, Tradition, had me struggling. I had written about our family’s primary traditions in previous years’ posts. Then I glanced at the calendar and noticed that Memorial Day was just a few weeks away, and that made me recall my grandmother’s tradition of decorating the family graves on “Decoration Day”, the original name for Memorial Day.

Americans began observing Memorial Day after the Civil War as a way to honor fallen soldiers on both sides of the war. They decorated the graves with flowers. The first national proclamation of the Memorial Day Order was issued by the Commander in Chief of the Grand Army of the Republic, General John A. Logan, on May 5,1868. It read in part:

“The 30th day of May, 1868 is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, and hamlet churchyard in the land.”

My grandfather’s maternal grandfather, Jerome Dane, had served in the Civil War, and had been active in local GAR chapters, so following his death, his children and grandchildren honored his grave each Memorial Day. Grandpa Macbeth probably made many trips to Tivoli Cemetery over the years, and my mother remembered visiting Great-Grandpa Dane’s headstone as a child.

Captain Jerome Dane, Union Army, Civil War Photo 

As the years passed, the holiday grew to honor the graves of all individuals who had served in the military, not just Civil War soldiers. Family members served in WWI and WWII, so their graves were honored as well. Below is a photo of my granduncle Harold Macbeth who served as an Army private in World War I.

Harold Macbeth, World War I, taken in 1918.

My grandmother and her sisters eventually expanded their Memorial Day observances to include non-military family members. They used the day to travel to the local cemeteries to leave flowers on the graves of their parents and other important family members. Grandma often used her own garden flowers for her grave tributes—I remember that peonies from the bushes at the bottom of the hill were some of her favorites if they bloomed early enough. She also bought artificial flowers or arrangements and left those instead of live flowers.

I have fond memories of running around the cemetery while my parents and grandparents placed their floral offerings. I remember the graves of soldiers having tiny flags on them—probably the work of a Boy Scout Troop or the local VFW chapter.


While this may not have been the most significant of my family's traditions, it still brings back sweet memories for me. I have been unable to continue this tradition since I no longer live near my ancestors’ graves. But I try to travel to a family cemetery whenever I visit Minnesota, as seen in the photo above. This year, I will be honoring my ancestors’ memories from afar.

Sources:

National Cemetery Administration, Memorial Day History. https://www.cem.va.gov/history/Memorial-Day-history.asp

Family photos.

Thursday, April 23, 2026

Loosening the Mortar in My Hanover, Germany Brick Wall: 52 Ancestors 2026 Prompt “A Brick Wall Revisited”

Possible Parents for Maria Christina Uepkendanz

Maria Christina Uepkendanz: 1806-1850 (Maternal Third Great-Grandmother)

 

When I first started researching my Hoffman line several years ago, I hit a brick wall at my third-great-grandmother, Maria Christina Uepkendanz. I had very minimal, poorly sourced information that indicated she was born on October 24, 1806 in Hanover, Germany, but there was no information on her parents. I didn’t even have proof of her birthdate—I had copied the birthdate information from other Ancestry trees. When I saw Amy Johnson Crow’s prompt for this week, A Brick Wall Revisited, I decided it was time to revisit Maria, and see if I could loosen some of the mortar in that brick wall.

All I really knew about Maria was that she was married to my third-great-grandfather, Friedrich Behrend Heinrich Christoph Hoffman around 1830 in Hanover, Germany. Their children were born in Oedelum, a village in Hanover. Maria purportedly died in Oedelum in 1850.

Aerial view of Oedelum, Hanover, Germany today.

I was excited when I saw that Ancestry had “Potential Father” and “Potential Mother” listed for Maria. But when I realized there was only one new “Hint” for her, and that hint was merely a link to someone else’s tree, I could feel the brick wall re-hardening.

I examined the three Ancestry trees that contained Maria and her purported parents, Johann Heinrich Christoph Uepkendanz and Catharina Sophie Dorothea Baarman. The only citations on any of the three trees for Maria’s parentage were each other. Who came up with these parents originally and where did they get the information?

I decided to check FamilySearch. It too lacked any verifiable information on Maria’s parents. The entry for Catharina Sophie Dorothea Baarman gave a source for her birth from a researcher going by the name “aosmith2”. The “record” said her birth date was December 8, 1779 and she was born in Germany. The source was listed as “Legacy NFS Source”. According to AI, “A legacy NFS source is informational data on FamilySearch that was transferred from the "New FamilySearch" (NFS) system to the current Family Tree when it went live around 2012. These are essentially inherited text notes—including old censuses, birth records, or user-submitted research—that often lack direct digital documentation, serving more as clues to be verified.”

That was not helpful. It basically means someone may have found a non-digitized source years ago, but didn’t bother to copy or transcribe it or tell where they found it.

The record for Maria’s father also reference a “legacy NFS Source”, so I have no actual records to evaluate.

I tried using whole text search on FamilySearch, but, given the number of potential variations of the spelling of even the surname Uepkendanz, not to mention the first and double middle names, it is probably unsurprising that I met with no success.

I next tried the FamilySearch Card Catalog for Hanover, Germany, but the only potential resources are not accessible from home.

I had slightly more luck with individual genealogies posted on FamilySearch. I cannot view their sources, only the actual trees. Two trees contain the following parentage information:


This corresponds to what other Ancestry trees indicate, although on Ancestry the other two potential grandparents are also listed, once again without any records as sources.


In summary, I have very, very slightly loosened the mortar in my Maria Uepkendanz brick wall. I now have the names of potential parents and potential grandparents for her. Sadly, the names are all I have been able to locate at this point. In addition, my birthdate, death date, and locations of birth and death also lack appropriate verification, and I have found no marriage record for Maria and her husband Friedrich Hoffman. I suspect that I need some professional help to search German genealogical materials to find any actual records that would confirm her parentage, birth and death.

Sources:

"Pedigree Resource File," database, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/2:2:W3MF-MQT : accessed 23 April 2026), entry for Johann Heinrich Christoph Uepkendanz; "manning family tree" file (2:2:2:MMK2-5WY), submitted 8 November 2025 by LisaOslund [identity withheld for privacy].


Saturday, March 28, 2026

A Quilting Queen: 52 Ancestors 2026 Prompt “Homemade”

 

The Extraordinary Life of Mary Abbott Bridge’s Quilt

Mary Abbott Bridges: 1701-1774 (Maternal First Cousin 9x Removed)
 

Sometimes I run across a little story or piece of information that just delights or enlightens me so much that I need to blog about it, even though the ancestor in question is so distantly related to me that the connection seems ridiculous. Frankly, I don’t care. To me, the important thing about genealogy is learning about the past through my ancestors. History is my motivation. So here I am blogging about a first cousin NINE TIMES REMOVED. But this cousin was an artist with needle and thread, and she deserves to be remembered.

Mary Abbott was born March 23, 1701, to parents Nehemiah Abbott and Abigail Lovejoy. Abigail Lovejoy was the sister of Anne Lovejoy, my eighth-great-grandmother. The Abbott and Lovejoy families all lived in Andover, Massachusetts. Mary was one of Nehemiah and Abigail’s three children.

As the only daughter, Mary seems to have taken responsibility for her parents. She didn’t marry while she was a young woman but remained in the family home. On August 31, 1738, she married a widower with five children, James Bridges. She was 37 years old. She and James had three additional children.

During the 1700s, nearly all colonial women were accomplished seamstresses. They needed to make and mend clothing, bedding and any other fabric object needed in their homes. Some were even spinning their own thread and weaving their own fabrics, although during the early 17th century most fabric was still being imported from England. Mary Abbott was more than just a good seamstress, however. She was a true artist. Around 1738, she finished a large whole-cloth quilt, which has, shockingly, survived for nearly three centuries. As a whole-cloth quilt, the quilt top is a single, solid-color piece of fabric. The artistry comes from the elaborate pattern Mary handstitched in a contrasting thread color to bind the quilt layers together.

The quilt was one of the historic quilts described and recorded as part of the Massachusetts Quilt Project, and the quilt was also included in Lynne Bassett’s book, Massachusetts Quilts: Our Common Wealth.  Bassett described Mary’s quilt as “the earliest bed quilt believed to have been made in Massachusetts”. 

The Quilt Index describes the quilt as being made of a “plain-weave” worsted wool fabric with wool batting and backing. The edges were turned in, so no separate binding fabric was used. The color is described variously as brown, green or “greenish brown”, which doesn’t sound very attractive. However, one source I read said that colonists in the early 1700s preferred basic, dark colors such as browns, dark blues, and greys, so Mary’s fabric choice was fairly standard for that era. Mary used a blue worsted thread to sew the pattern.


The Quilt index calls the stitching pattern a “motif design” with “feathering” and the design is described as a “framed center medallion.” The Bassett book provides a richer description, noting that the “elegant quilting pattern” was a “combination of English tradition and New England design innovation…Typical of English framed center-medallion design, a central quatrefoil motif—framed by feathered vines terminating in opposing curves at the corners—is surrounded by closely worked vines blooming in an impossible array of stylized flowers, leaves and fruit. A variety of feathered borders provides structure to this wild arrangement.”

The quilt in its current state is 86.5 x 65 inches. According to the Quilt Index, the quilt is structurally sound although worn. As you can see from the image above, the quilt’s pattern does not seem to be complete. The Quilt Index indicates the quilt was “cut down and patched.” I believe a quarter to one-third of the quilt has been cut off, probably due to some sort of damage, with parts of the lost section used to patch the remainder. You can see below that the pattern of the patch doesn’t match that of the surrounding area The original would have had a symmetrical pattern, with the center rosette complete instead of being cut off. I would guess the original dimensions were likely 86.5 x 90 or possibly 100 inches.



So how did Mary manage to create this piece of fabric art? One source I read suggested that most colonial women bought whole-cloth quilts from England, as they didn’t have time to sew for pleasure or beauty during days filled with cooking, childcare, laundry, gardening, etc. Any sewing would have involved maintaining the family’s clothes. Quilting was a pastime for wealthy women, the source said.

The Abbott family was not wealthy, but Mary would have been richer in terms of time than her contemporaries. She was unmarried during her twenties and early thirties, so had no children or husband to care for. Even so, the quilt must have taken an enormous amount of time to complete. Preparing the pattern would have been a huge task by itself. She may have drawn the pattern directly onto the fabric using charcoal, or she may have used a paper template and used a pin to poke the pattern into the fabric. Given the size of the quilt and the elaborate pattern, coupled with her other household responsibilities, I would estimate the project took her at least two years to complete—two years of squinting in poor light in a room either too hot or too cold.   

The Quilt Index record estimates the completion date of the quilt as 1738, which is the year she married James Bridges. Bassett believes the quilt may have been a trousseau piece, “evidence of her desire to bring elegance to her new home.” There is no way to know for certain when she made the piece.

Bassett also notes that James Bridges was a man of “great influence and considerable wealth” who owned several slaves. While her married life may have been financially comfortable, it ended tragically. Her husband James was a maltster, which involved soaking, germinating and then drying grains to produce malt, which was most often used for brewing beer. The drying process required the use of a large kiln. Apparently, James had some sort of accident involving the kiln, as his headstone states said he was “Being melted to death by extreem heat.” What a horrible fate! He was only fifty years old at the time of his death. Mary was left a widow with three young children, ages 8, 6 and 4, and a teenage stepdaughter and 18-year-old stepson. 

James Bridges' headstone with cause of death at bottom

I have been unable to find information about Mary’s life after her husband’s death. Some records claim she remarried in 1750 to a man named Fiske, and that she died in 1774, but I have not been able to confirm the marriage or death.

The history of the quilt is easier to trace. According to the Bassett book, Mary gave her daughter Chloe the quilt. Chloe married Timothy Osgood in 1765. Bassett wrote:

“At that time, it was still the height of fashion to have a whole-cloth quilt on the most important bed in the house, and certainly Chloe welcomed the gift. The quilt passed next to Chloe and Timothy’s son John Osgood (b. 1773), who married Betsy Fuller. John and Betsy’s daughter Harriot (b. 1812) brought the quilt with her to Canada when she married Ralph Rugg of Quebec in 1836.”

Bassett reported that the quilt was donated to the McCord Museum in Montreal, but the museum no longer lists the quilt as being in their collection. The Quilt Index states that the quilt is now in private hands. It is unclear if the quilt had merely been lent to the museum by Mary’s descendants who then reclaimed it, or whether the museum sold it to a private collector.

The location of Mary Abbott Bridges’ quilt is far less important than the fact that it has survived an amazing 288 years. This was not a piece of artwork carefully packed in an archival storage container. Instead, it was a practical household item, used for decades to keep family members warm on cold Massachusetts nights. I hope Mary’s descendants appreciated both the beauty of the quilt and the hard work and artistry that went into its creation.

Sources:

The Quilt Index. Record 11-37-6786. Mary Abbott Whole Cloth Quilt. https://quiltindex.org//view/?type=fullrec&kid=11-37-6786

Massachusetts Quilt Documentation Project (MassQuilts). https://www.massquilts.org/MassQuilts_Project.htm

Massachusetts Quilts: Our Common Wealth. Bassett, Lynne Z. University Press of New England. 2009.

Sunday, March 22, 2026

Losing a Job Led to Lost Freedom: 52 Ancestors 2026 Prompt “Working for a Living”

Former Cop Convicted of Crime of Spousal Non-Support

Cecil A. Banker: 1896-1939 (Maternal Second Cousin 2x Removed)

 

When I researched Cecil Banker’s work history, it led to some surprises. He had some fascinating work experiences, but his loss of employment ended up being even more fascinating to me. “Working for a living” had more than one meaning in Cecil’s life. He needed to work to live as a free man.

Cecil Banker was born August 12, 1896 in Janesville, Minnesota. His parents were Albert Banker and Jennie Anderson Banker. He was the second of their three children and was the only boy. While he was still a young child, his parents moved from Janesville back to Wisconsin, where his father had been born. The family settled in Superior, Wisconsin, at the northwest tip of the state on the shore of Lake Superior. Only a bridge separates Superior from the Duluth area of Minnesota.

Map of Superior, Wisconsin

Cecil’s father, Albert, died in 1914 when Cecil was eighteen. Cecil went to work for the Great Northern Railroad, working as a switchman. He married Helen Billmayer on September 8, 1917. He was twenty-one and Helen was two years older.

Cecil registered for the World War I draft in 1918. He listed his job as switchman, with a notation that he has “gasoline experience good”. This was probably a note made by the draft board regarding any work experience that could potentially be valuable to the army. It does not appear that Cecil was drafted or served. Interestingly, he listed his name on the draft form as Cecil Almond Banker. Some records, including his Social Security Application, list his middle name as Albert after his father, rather than the unusual Almond.


Cecil and Jennie had a son, Albert Cecil Banker, on August 17, 1918. They also had a second son, Roger Jay Banker, on February 17, 1923. Sadly, baby Roger died on August 12, 1923 at only six months of age.

At some point in late 1926 or early 1927, Cecil decided to change careers, and went to work for the police force in Superior, Wisconsin. At that point in time, Superior had a population of nearly 40,000 people, far more than today’s 26,000. 

Superior downtown in 1930s

Cecil appears in a few news articles about crimes and arrests in 1927 and 1928, and he is listed as a patrolman. The articles include his arrest of a drunk driver and his assisting a man who claimed to have been robbed and run over by a car.

Arrest notice from Oct 21, 1927 edition of the Superior Evening Telegram

Cecil was fortunate to be employed by the city government when the stock market crashed in 1929 and the country entered the Great Depression. He took and successfully passed the police exam in September 1929. The news article reported that “among those taking the policeman’s test were several who are on the force at present, but since they had not been confirmed, had to go through the exams for the second time.” I assume this is why Cecil took the exam in 1929 despite having worked as a patrol officer for two years.

Cecil was involved in a notorious criminal case in 1929. His commanding officer, a Sergeant Zimmerman, had chastised another officer, Patrolman Ben Meyers, for drinking on the job. Meyers pulled out his service weapon and shot the sergeant. Zimmerman ordered Cecil to arrest Meyers, and then walked to a nearby store to call in his injury. He died days later in the hospital, so the prosecution of Meyers rested in large part on Cecil’s testimony.

Headline from the December 2, 1929 edition of the Superior Evening Telegram

The Superior Evening Telegram reported on Cecil’s testimony in the January 14, 1930 edition:

“Patrolman Banker, the next witness on the stand, was questioned for about two hours and a half. He told of seeing Meyers shortly after midnight, and of seeing Zimmerman a short time later. At 3: 22 a.m., Banker met Zimmerman at Belknap Street and Tower Avenue, he related on the stand, and the two officers walked toward Fourteenth Street. ‘We saw Ben come out from behind the Kindy Optical Company while we were standing in front of the post office,’  Banker testified. ‘Zimmerman said ‘there’s Ben, I’m going over to meet him.’ … Banker watched the two men walk toward Thirteenth Street, he told the jury. Then, shortly after passing a lamp post a few feet from the northeast corner of the street, he saw them separate, he said, and then he heard a shot and saw a flash.

‘Did you watch the two men continually from then on?’ Attorney Cooper asked.

‘Almost, I was running and had to watch the ice a little,‘ Banker answered. ‘When I got in front of the Grand Rapids, I stopped for a few seconds, wondering what I had best do,’ Banker testified, ‘and then, drawing my gun from my pocket, I walked across the street, and told Ben I had my gun on him. I stuck my gun in his back and told him to give me his,’ Banker said. ‘Then Zimmerman grabbed my arm and pulled himself up. He led the way across the street. Meyers followed him and I followed Meyers,’ the patrolman said.

The consequent telephoning of the police department for the patrol wagon and ambulance were related by Patrolman Banker, and then he made his statement in regard to the final conversation between the two officers, one of whom had shot the other a few minutes previous.

It was a glowing tribute to Sergeant Zimmerman. A silent courtroom heard the gruff officer tell of the wounded police officer’s last utterance, ‘You shouldn’t have done it, Ben, you shouldn’t have shot me.’ While Banker made no statement in praise of Zimmerman’s action, his attitude portrayed an admiration of the dead sergeant’s manner of mildly rebuking the man who had shot him.”   

Cecil was still on the police force at the time of the 1930 census. However, he was no longer on the force by 1932, when he was sued for non-support by his wife. By that point, Cecil and Helen had a third child, a daughter, Beverly, who was born in 1929. The news article on the non-support arrest stated that Cecil was a “discharged” police officer. I am unsure whether this means he was fired for cause or if the city, facing financial problems during the Depression, layed him off. The result was the same: he had no job, so had no means to support his wife and children.

Non-Support Charge from May 24, 1932 edition of the Superior Evening Telegram

To my surprise, I discovered that being unemployed and unable to provide for your family was a crime in Wisconsin in the early 1930s, and was punishable by a prison sentence! That seems patently ridiculous, as a prisoner had no ability to provide for his or her family from jail, so the family still suffered. Certainly Cecil was not the only man unable to find a job in 1932, when the unemployment rate was a horrifying 23.6 percent! However, on January 6, 1933, Cecil was convicted by a jury on a charge of non-support and was jailed. There was no newspaper story on the sentencing portion of the trial, so I don’t know how long a sentence he received. He did file a motion for a new trial on January 28, 1933, but the newspaper did not have any further articles about this effort.

Helen Banker was granted a divorce from Cecil in December 1936. Cecil was released from jail at some point, as he remarried June 1, 1938. He married a woman named Ella Schroeder in Carlton, Minnesota. Carlton is less than twenty miles from Superior, so obviously he stayed in the Superior area following his release.

Divorce notice from the Dec 19, 1936 edition of the Superior Evening Telegram

Sadly, Cecil died on September 17, 1939 after a brief illness. He was only forty-three years old. He is buried in Greenwood Cemetery in Superior.


Obituary from the Sept 18, 1939 edition of the Superior Evening Telegram

Cecil’s story was a revelation for me. Working for a living was essential in the early twentieth century, not just as a means of supporting oneself and one’s family, but to keep one’s freedom. Failure to work and provide support for family members was a criminal offense punishable by jail time. Cecil tried to provide for his family, but during the Great Depression, it proved impossible once he lost his job as a policeman.

 

Sources:

U.S., World War I Draft Registration Cards, 1917-1918. Registration State: Wisconsin; Registration County: Douglas. Ancestry.com

Articles from the Superior Evening Telegram, Superior, Wisconsin. 1927-1939. Accessed from Newspapers.com.

Findagrave.com. https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/64587526/cecil-albert-banker?_gl=1*1cgwa9n*_gcl_dc*R0NMLjE3NzMwMjg1NTguMmFkMjdiYWI1M2UyMTM4ODkzMDIxMjA1NGVkNjc5YzU.*_gcl_au*NDkwNDQ5MTA0LjE3NjcxMzEzNzA.*_ga*MzAzMzcxNzI0LjE3NjcxMzEzNzE.*_ga_4QT8FMEX30*c2JlNzY4NTQ0LWJmYzYtNDg4MC1iYmZmLTE4ZDYzYzRjZmQ0MyRvMTE4JGcxJHQxNzc0MTkxNzMxJGo1OCRsMCRoMA..*_ga_LMK6K2LSJH*c2JlNzY4NTQ0LWJmYzYtNDg4MC1iYmZmLTE4ZDYzYzRjZmQ0MyRvMTE3JGcxJHQxNzc0MTkxNzMxJGo1OCRsMCRoMA..

Sunday, March 8, 2026

Different Parents on Different Genealogy Sites: 52 Ancestors 2026 Prompt “Conflicting Clues”

 

Family Search vs Ancestry: Are Sarah White’s Parents from Otterton in Devon or West Bagborough in Somerset?

Sarah White: 1795-1880 (Maternal Third Great-Grandmother)
Isaac White: 1742-1819 (Maternal Fourth-Great-Grandfather)
Elizabeth Cox: 1755-1841 (Maternal Fourth-Great-Grandmother)
John White: 1743-1809 (Purported Maternal Fourth-Great-Grandfather)
Sarah Gooding: 1772-1841 (Purported Maternal Fourth-Great-Grandfather)
 

Every once in a while, I receive an email from Family Search telling me about a new Source or a Memory for an ancestor in my tree. Sometimes these emails lead to a new, valuable piece of information or a new family photo. But sometimes, they simply lead to confusion. That was the case with my third-great-grandmother, Sarah White Herniman. I clicked on the link in the email I received about her, and was surprised to discover that Sarah White had completely different parents and siblings on FamilySearch than the parents and siblings I had found on Ancestry. This conflicting information left me confused and worried. Had I missed something critical in my Ancestry research?

So how did the two sets of purported parents for Sarah White compare? FamilySearch showed Sarah as the second child of John White and Sarah Gooding, and said she was born in 1796 in Otterton, Devon, England. John White, born in Otterton in 1743, had married Sarah Gooding on August 16, 1792. Sarah Gooding was born in Devon in 1772 and was christened at Collaton Raleigh, Devon on October 6 of that year. The couple had eight children between 1795 and 1807.

According to my Ancestry research, Sarah White was the daughter of Isaac White and Elizabeth Cox. Isaac and Elizabeth were born in Somerset, England, Isaac in 1742 and Elizabeth in 1755. They were married November 16, 1773 in Hillfarrance, Somerset. They had eleven children between 1773 and 1798. Sarah was the tenth of those eleven children, born in 1795. She may have been born in Sidmouth (one record suggests that) but her baptism took place in West Bagborough in Somerset, where most of her siblings were also baptized.  

Sarah White, daughter of Isaac and Elizabeth White, baptism record.

Both the FamilySearch tree and my Ancestry tree agree that Sarah White married James How Herniman on March 28, 1819 in Taunton St. Mary, Somerset. The marriage record states that Sarah White was from Sidmouth, Devonshire.

Marriage Record for James Herniman and Sarah White, showing she was from the Sidmouth Parish

So how can I determine which set of parents is most likely correct? First, I looked at locations. The FamilySearch Sarah was supposedly born in Otterton, Devon, but married a man from Somerset, at Taunton St. Mary, a church in Taunton, Somerset. I looked at the distance from Taunton to Otterton, and discovered the towns were 35 miles apart. That would be quite a distance in the early nineteenth century. How would an Otterton woman meet a man from the Taunton region of Somerset?


James How Herniman, Sarah’s husband, was actually born in Crowcombe, Somerset, which is only three miles from West Bagborough, where my Ancestry Sarah White was baptized and where her siblings were born and baptized. It is easy to understand how a West Bagborough woman could meet someone from a town barely three miles away.

Still, the marriage record states that Sarah White is from Sidmouth, which is on the coast of Devonshire not far from Otterton. That supports the FamilySearch parentage.

One additional piece of information makes me more confident that my Ancestry tree is correct. I have a DNA match to a distant cousin who is a descendant of Jacob White, a son of Isaac White and Elizabeth Cox. Jacob was therefore Sarah White’s older brother. I checked the FamilySearch records, and John White and Sarah Gooding had no sons named Jacob, nor does John White seem to be related to Isaac White. That indicates that the only way my DNA could match a descendant of Jacob White is if we shared the same ancestor, Isaac White.

When I examined Ancestry’s ThruLines, I found even more DNA connections. I have distant cousins who are descended from four additional siblings of Jacob White and Sarah White. These siblings are Mary White, Hannah White, William White, and Elizabeth White.

DNA really doesn’t lie. Therefore it is doubtful that John White and Sarah Gooding’s daughter, Sarah White, could be my third-great-grandmother. My DNA connection to the descendants of Isaac White’s children is indisputable.  Isaac White is clearly my fourth-great-grandfather, not John White of Otterton.

I am confident that my Ancestry tree correctly identifies Sarah’s parents as Isaac White and Elizabeth Cox. Apparently Sarah must have spent time in Sidmouth before her marriage, despite her family being from Somerset. Perhaps the family had relatives there, which would explain why her birth record also shows she was born in Sidmouth even though she was later baptized in West Bagborough.

I have found it difficult to change parentage on FamilySearch. People just change it right back. I will probably attempt to correct it at some point noting the DNA evidence, but for now I am content to have come to my own conclusion about the conflicting clues relating to Sarah White’s parentage.

Sources:

Somerset, England, Marriage Registers, Bonds and Allegations, 1754-1914 for Sarah White. Marriage Registers, Taunton St. Mary, 1813-1828. https://www.ancestry.com/imageviewer/collections/60858/images/42886_1831115184_0991-00111?_gl=1*1r6sio9*_up*MQ..&gclid=65117a15095f10dbfb8c13bb1b2b7843&gclsrc=3p.ds&pId=903444864

Somerset, England, Church of England Baptisms, Marriages, and Burials, 1531-1812 for Sarah White. West Bagborough, 1701-1812. https://www.ancestry.com/imageviewer/collections/60856/images/engl78030_d-p-w-bag-2-1-3_m_00022?_gl=1*56y138*_up*MQ..&gclid=65117a15095f10dbfb8c13bb1b2b7843&gclsrc=3p.ds&pId=366409

Ancestry ThruLines for Isaac White. https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-geneticfamily/thrulines/tree/134748591:9009:66/for/38B5E694-2D64-4CC7-BEFE-4FE8A7F44961

 

Sunday, February 22, 2026

The Serious Side to a Funny Incident: 52 Ancestors 2026 Prompt “Changed My Thinking”

 

Anthony Nutter and the Attack on Colonial Tax Officials

Anthony Nutter: 1630-1685 (Maternal 9th Great-Grandfather)
 

When I first saw the engraving pictured below, I was amused. The man depicted laughing uproariously at the two other men scuffling in the fireplace was my ninth-great-grandfather, Anthony Nutter. The violence depicted looked like a bar brawl to me. I assumed the men had drunk too much and had gotten into a scuffle. The description accompanying the illustration referred to Anthony as a “tall big man” who accompanied his friend Wiggin when they “visited Mason when the latter got his wig burned.” That description trivializes the incident, which was far more serious than I’d surmised. Rather than a scuffle amongst friends, the fight was political—an act of resistance by colonial settlers against British overreach. I had to drastically change my thinking about the meaning of the illustration.


Anthony Nutter was the son of Hatevil Nutter and his wife Ann Ayers Nutter. Anthony was born in England around 1630, and traveled to what is now Stratford County, New Hampshire with his parents and siblings sometime prior to 1640.  In 1662, at the age of 32, he married Sarah Langstaff. They had at least eight children, perhaps more than ten.

Anthony first lived in Dover Neck, New Hampshire, but eventually moved across the Piscataqua River to what is now Newington, New Hampshire, but was then called Welshman’s Cove on Bloody Point. He inherited the property from his father in 1674, and fortified the house into a garrison. Anthony became a freeman in 1662, and was a “corporall” in 1667, and was called a “leftenant” by 1683. These titles probably referred to militia positions—the colonists needed to protect themselves from raids by native tribes and the French. He served as a selectman in 1666 and 1667, as a Representative to the colonial General Court for six years between 1674 and 1684, and was named to the Provincial Council in 1679. He was obviously a respected citizen.

Historical Marker in the Bloody Point area of New Hampshire

So what led him to participate in a brawl with colonial bigwig Robert Mason and the Lieutenant Governor of New Hampshire Walter Barefoot?

In the 1680s, there was conflict in the colonies over the control of land in what is now New Hampshire. The area had originally been part of the Massachusetts Colony, but was eventually separated into a separate entity called a “royal province”. At that time, a man named Rober Mason asserted a claim that his family owned all the land in the province, and he arrived in the area with a warrant from the king and the expectation that all the colonists would begin paying him to lease their lands.  As might be expected, the colonists objected. They believed they had clear title to their lands and refused to pay rents, taxes or any other fees to any government entity connected to Mason.

Mason curried favor with the Provincial Governor, Edward Cranfield, so Cranfield attempted to enforce the lease arrangement. He was unsuccessful; his officers were unable to enforce his orders. Cranfield returned to England, turning over his duties to his Lietuenant Governor, Walter Barefoot.

The book Colonial Life in New Hampshire describes what led to the Nutter/Wiggin incident:

“Barefoot was not an improvement over his predecessor and used every means in his power to annoy the colonists. During his short stay an incident occurred which shows the contempt with which the government was held by the settlers. Thomas Wiggin and Anthony Nutter, who had formerly been members of the assembly, called one day at the house of Barefoot to remonstrate with him concerning the injustice of his proceedings. Mason, who was his guest at the time, was also present. During the discussion, the visitors told Mason very plainly and forcibly that his claim to the land amounted to nothing. This so enraged him that he took hold of Wiggin to force him from the house.

Wiggin, who was a powerful man, seized Mason by the collar and threw him with great violence across the room and into the fireplace, where his clothing and legs were severely burned. Barefoot upon coming to his assistance was treated even more severely. Several of his teeth were knocked out and two of his ribs were broken. Mason meantime called loudly upon his servants to bring his sword, but upon its being brought, Nutter quickly took it from him, and mocked the discomfiture of the highest officer of the state.”

Another description of the incident said that the fight was broken up by neighbors who were alerted by the screams of Barefoot’s maid.

Neither Nutter nor Wiggin faced any criminal charges for their altercation with two powerful men, even though both of those men were left with fairly serious injuries. Nutter and Wiggin had walked into the meeting with confidence, unafraid of Mason and Barefoot. While they were both big, strong men, I believe they felt more emboldened by the support of their fellow colonists. They knew that powerful titles and rank meant little so far from England and the king. The outcome proved them right. Barefoot soon lost his position and was replaced, while Mason was never able to assert his claim of ownership over the province’s land.

The fight at Barefoot’s house seems to have occurred in the early to mid 1680s when Anthony Nutter was in his early fifties. In 1685, he contracted smallpox. The journal of Rev. Pike noted:

“Feb 19. Lt. Anthony Nutter of Welch-Cove deceased of the smal-pox bef: it came out.”

I’m not sure what the reference to “before it came out” means. Before the rash appeared? Anthony Nutter died from the disease at the age of fifty-five. I have been unable to find his probate or burial records.

While I first looked at the story of Anthony Nutter and Thomas Wiggin’s fight with Mason and Barefoot as a humorous incident of drunken machismo, I changed my thinking when I read what led up to the incident. This is an example of the necessity of searching for information that can provide important context. Without context, we can misconstrue our ancestors’ actions and motivations. Where I once saw a drunken brawl, I now see political resistance by colonists against greed and an out-of-touch king.

 

Sources:

New England Historical Society. New Hampshire. “Edward Gove and this One-Man Revolution of 1683”. https://newenglandhistoricalsociety.com/edward-gove-and-his-one-man-revolution-of-1683/#google_vignette

Colonial Life in New Hampshire. James H. Fassett. Chapter 4. Ginn & Company, Publishers. Boston, Massachusetts, USA. 1899.

Photo of Newington Historical Marker. Wikimedia Commons. https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a8/NewingtonNH_sign.JPG

https://ancestors.familysearch.org/en/LZ1W-4ND/lt.-anthony-nutter-1630-1685

 

Thursday, February 12, 2026

A Young Man’s Big Decision: 52 Ancestors 2026 Prompt “A Big Decision”

 

Lawrence Buckminster Makes His Will Before Setting Sail to England

Lawrence Buckminster: 1619-1645 (Maternal 8th Great-Granduncle)

 

Sometimes I run across records or documents that make me laugh, and other times I find something that breaks my heart a little. Lawrence Buckminster’s probate record was unique—I had both reactions. Lawrence was barely twenty-five when he made the decision to take to the sea aboard a ship bound for England. As most sailors did in those days, knowing the hazards that ships and sailors faced, he made his will before he left. Sadly, he never returned to Massachusetts, and the will he dictated—filled with humor and pathos—is all that survives of his life.

Lawrence Buckminster was the eldest son of my ninth-great-grandfather, Thomas Buckminster and Thomas’ first wife, Margaret Cossen. Lawrence was born in Sempringham, Lincolnshire, England in September of 1619. He was baptized on September 12, 1619. Lawrence’s mother died in 1629, and his father took Lawrence and his three siblings to colonial America around 1630. Lawrence would have been about eleven years old.

Sempringham church where Lawrence was baptized.

Lawrence’s father remarried, and by Lawrence’s twenty-first birthday, he had eight younger siblings.

Lawrence apparently wrote his will in September 1645, and it was probated in May of 1646. This implies he died in late 1645 or early 1646. None of the details about his cause or place of death was recorded. His body does not seem to have been returned to his family, so he may have been buried at sea.

The remarkable part of Lawrence’s story is his delightfully detailed will. It begins in a rather unusual fashion, which I read as rather wry in tone. Lawrence wrote (or dictated) as follows:

“Seene that I am now bound for the sea & so for England, them smole (small) things that I have heare live & thos desposed of, if Capt. Smith doe not recover my wages againe, then thus I have ordered it if God take me away by death or any turne of God’s providence that I am never like to enjoy it againe…”

Copy of Lawrence Buckmaster/Buckminster's will from Massachusetts Probate Records

This opening is amazingly chatty and really shows personality. I can almost hear a cocky young man describing his possessions as “them small things that I have here”. And then there’s the puzzling line about his ship’s captain, which seems to have a bit of a mocking note: “if Capt. Smith doe not recover my wages againe”. What can we gather from this line? First, Lawrence had sailed with Capt. Smith before, and apparently there was some dispute about Lawrence’s wages. I am surmising that the meaning of the word “recover” in this context is more akin to “revoke” or “confiscate.” It sounds as if Lawrence does not trust his captain to convey any wages earned before his death to his heirs.

Next follows a very detailed accounting and distribution of Lawrence’s possessions. First, he leaves “the piece of land bought of & payd excepted of the said Thomas Spaule” to his sister Elizabeth Buckminster [which he dictates as “Buckmaster”, an alternate spelling during that era]. I am a bit unclear about Thomas Spaule’s [alternate spelling Spowell] connection to the land—had Lawrence bought it from Thomas? It appears that Lawrence’s sister Elizabeth was his favorite of all his siblings, as she received the most valuable inheritance.

Lawrence then begins an itemized distribution of what he described as “smale things in my chest”:

“first a greate coate I freely give to Thomas Spaule & the six shillings due to me from Thomas Wellens with it, My black hatt I do bestow it upon Abigail Sherman, the suite of apparel to my brother Zachary Buckmaster & a shirt and band or two for my ffather, there wilbe left a paire of stockings the best to be given to Matthew Coy, the worser paire or two paire & the chest in which these lye in unto the said Thomas Spaule…”

This section of the will indicates how important and how limited clothing was during that era. Even “worser” stockings were important enough to list in a will. My ancestor Zachary Buckminster received an entire suit of clothing, which would have been a valuable possession. Their father Thomas was to receive a shirt and “band”.

But non-family members also received bequests. Someone named Matthew Cay or Coy was to inherit Lawrence’s best pair of stockings, and an unrelated young woman, Abigail Sherman, was to inherit his black hat. Was Abigail a sweetheart of Lawrence’s? Or was she an extended relative? Why was she to receive the hat? After all, what was a woman to do with a man’s hat? It seems rather bold to include an unrelated woman in a man’s will in the mid-seventeenth century.

The next passage in the will is very confusing. It reads that Thomas Spaule was to take “a smale caske of Mackrells that Thomas is to send to sea for me for to let them go to sea for his daughter Mary till they come to some thing or nothing, but if that I live to come againe, or desire an account of them by sending to you an account to be given to me.”

After a little research, I discovered that mackerels were salted and packed in casks to be used as food on ships or to be sold abroad. I think what Lawrence was proposing was that a cask of mackerel that Lawrence had intended to export be instead exported by Thomas Spaule on behalf of Spaule’s daughter Mary. In other words, any proceeds of the sale of the cask would go to Mary, unless Lawrence survived his voyage and returned to claim the proceeds or sent for an accounting from England. I did a bit of research on Thomas Spaule’s family, and it appears that Mary was just a baby when the will was written. I wonder if she ever received the proceeds of that cask of salted fish.

The will is signed as follows: “Lawrence Buckmaster in the presence of Thomas Spaule”, with a man named Robert Portons signing as the writer of the document, dated September 27, 1645. It is likely that Lawrence needed assistance to write the document and dictated it to Mr. Portons; like many men of the era, he was probably barely literate.

Thomas Spaule must have been Lawrence’s best friend, as so much of the will and the means of distributing the possessions was entrusted to Thomas. Perhaps this explains the chatty nature of the will—the two friends were sitting in a room discussing everything as the will was written.

Lawrence makes some last-minute amendments, perhaps in response to Thomas’ questions or comments. He writes:

“But the land she is not to make it away nor part fro, but she is not to have it, nor have nothing to doe with it till the yeare of our Lord 1649 & that Mayday, but if she sell it then let Thomas Spaule have the refusing of it, if she let it, then he to hyer it afore another if he please & if I dye at sea then to demand upon inquiry you may true wages for the time & to give my ffather it.


I wonder why Elizabeth was required to wait until May Day 1649 to gain full control over her inheritance? She was born in 1628, so perhaps that date was selected to ensure that she had reached her majority, the age of twenty-one. Also, once again, Lawrence’s friend Thomas received preferential treatment. While Elizabeth was to inherit the land Lawrence owned, she could not sell or rent it out without offering Thomas Spaule the right of first refusal.

It is interesting that seven years after this will was written, a man named William Spowell married Elizabeth Buckminster. I believe William Spowell must have been related to Thomas Spaule/Spowell—perhaps his brother. The two families must have lived near one another and were friendly. I wonder if Elizabeth held onto the land after inheriting it, or did she sell it or lease it to Thomas Spaule? I will have to keep researching to see if there are any land transfer records.

While Lawrence Buckminster may have approached the making of his will with a bit of irreverence, it is also obvious that it was a serious undertaking. He was well aware of the possible consequences of his decision to go to sea. While he left no descendants and few records of his existence, this will provides a window into his short life and the difficult lives of early colonial settlers.

Sources:

Suffolk County (Massachusetts) Probate Records, 1636-1899; Author: Massachusetts. Probate Court (Suffolk County) https://www.ancestry.com/search/collections/9069/records/367187?tid=46986934&pid=322685714523&ssrc=pt

Photo Wikimedia Commons.