The Fate of the 1890 Census

Courtesy ofNational Archives.

“The 1890 census was the first to use punch cards and an electrical tabulation system.
(Courtesy Bureau of the Census) Prologue: Quarterly of the National Archives and Records
Administration Spring 1996, vol. 28, no. 1. “First in the Path of the Firemen”, The Fate of the1890 Population Census By Kellee Blake.

“Of the decennial population census schedules, perhaps none might have been more critical to studies of immigration, industrialization, westward migration, and characteristics of the general population than the Eleventh Census of the United States, taken in June 1890. United States residents completed millions of detailed questionnaires, yet only a fragment of the general population schedules and an incomplete set of special schedules enumerating Union veterans and widows are available today. Reference sources routinely dismiss the 1890 census records as “destroyed by fire” in 1921. Examination of the records of the Bureau of Census and other federal agencies, however, reveals a far more complex tale. This is a genuine tragedy of records—played out before Congress fully established a National Archives—and eternally anguishing to researchers.

“As there was not a permanent Census Bureau until 1902, the Department of the Interior administered the Eleventh Census. Political patronage was “the most common order for appointment” of the nearly 47,000 enumerators; no examination was required. British journalist Robert Porter initially supervised the staff for the Eleventh Census, and statistician Carroll Wright later replaced him. This was the first U.S. census to use Herman Hollerith’s electrical tabulation system, a method by which data representing certain population characteristics were punched into cards and tabulated. The censuses of 1790 through 1880 required all or part of schedules to be filed in county clerks’ offices. Ironically, this was not required in 1890, and the original (and presumably only) copies of the schedules were forwarded to Washington.

“June 1, 1890, was the official census date, and all responses were to reflect the status of the household on that date. The 1890 census law allowed enumerators to distribute schedules in advance and later gather them up (as was done in England), supposedly giving individuals adequate time to accurately provide information. Evidently this method was very little used. As in other censuses, if an individual was absent, the enumerator was authorized to obtain information from the person living nearest the family.

“The 1890 census schedules differed from previous ones in several ways. For the first time, enumerators prepared a separate schedule for each family. The schedule contained expanded inquiries relating to race (white, black, mulatto, quadroon, octoroon, Chinese, Japanese, or Indian), home ownership, ability to speak English, immigration, and naturalization. Enumerators asked married women for the number of children born and the number living at the time of the census to determine fecundity. The 1890 schedules also included a question relating to Civil War service.

“Enumerators generally completed their counting by July 1 of 1890, and the U.S. population was returned at nearly 63 million (62,979,766). Complaints about accuracy and undercounting poured into the census office, as did demands for recounts. The 1890 census seemed mired in fraud and political intrigue. New York State officials were accused of bolstering census numbers, and the intense business competition between Minneapolis and St. Paul, Minnesota, resulted in no fewer than nineteen indictments against Minneapolis businessmen for allegedly adding more than 1,100 phony names to the census. Perhaps not surprisingly, the St. Paul businessmen brought the federal court complaint against the Minneapohs businessmen.

“In March 1896, before final publication of all general statistics volumes, the original1890 special schedules for mortality, crime, pauperism and benevolence, special classes (e.g., deaf, dumb, blind, insane), and portions ofthe transportation and insurance schedules were badly damaged by fire and destroyed by Department of the Interior order. No damage to the general population schedules was reported at that time. In fact, a 1903 census clerk found them to be in “fairly good condition.” Despite repeated ongoing requests by the secretary of commerce and others for an archives building where all census schedules could be safely stored, by January 10,1921, the schedules could be found piled in an orderly manner on closely placed pine shelves in an unlocked file room in the basement of the Commerce Building.

“At about five o’clock on that afternoon, building fireman James Foster noticed smoke coming through openings around pipes that ran from the boiler room into the file room. Foster saw no fire but immediately reported the smoke to the desk watchman, who called the fire department. Minutes later, on the fifth floor, a watchman noticed smoke in the men’s bathroom, took the elevator to the basement, was forced back by the dense smoke, and went to the watchman’s desk. By then, the fire department had arrived, the house alarm was pulled (reportedly at 5:30), and a dozen employees still working on upper floors evacuated. A total of three alarms and a general local call were turned in.

“After some setbacks from the intense smoke, firemen gained access to the basement. While a crowd of ten thousand watched, they poured twenty streams of water into the building and flooded the cellar through holes cut into the concrete floor. The fire did not go above the basement, seemingly thanks to a fireproofed floor. By 9:45 p.m. the fire was extinguished, but firemen poured water into the burned area past 10:30 p.m. Disaster planning and recovery were almost unknown in 1921. With the blaze extinguished, despite the obvious damage and need for immediate salvage efforts, the chief clerk opened windows to let out the smoke, and except for watchmen on patrol, everyone went home.

“Newspaper photographs captured the scene after the devastating fire and pointed out the need for safe storage of national records. The morning after was an archivist’s nightmare, with ankle-deep water covering records in many areas. Although the basement vault was considered fireproof and watertight, water seeped through a broken wired-glass panel in the door and under the floor, damaging some earlier and later census schedules on the lower tiers. The 1890 census, however, was stacked outside the vault and was, according to one source, “first in the path of the firemen.” That morning. Census Director Sam Rogers reported the extensive damage to the 1890 schedules, estimating 25 percent destroyed, with 50 percent of the remainder damaged by water, smoke, and fire. Salvage of the water soaked and charred documents might be possible, reported the bureau, but saving even a small part would take a month, and it would take two to three years to copy off and save all the records damaged in the fire. The preliminary assessment of Census Bureau Clerk T. J. Fitzgerald was far more sobering. Fitzgerald told reporters that the priceless 1890 records were “certain to be absolutely ruined. There is no method of restoring the legibility of a water-soaked volume.”

“Four days later, Sam Rogers complained they had not and would not be permitted any further work on the schedules until the insurance companies completed their examination. Rogers issued a state-by-state report of the number of volumes damped by water in the basement vault, including volumes from the 1830, 1840, 1880, 1900, and 1910 censuses. The total number of damaged vault volumes numbered 8,919, of which 7,957 were from the 1910 census. Rogers estimated that 10 percent of these vault schedules would have to be “opened and dried, and some of them recopied.” Thankfully, the census schedules of 1790-1820 and 1850-1870 were on the fifth floor of the Commerce Building and reportedly not damped. The new 1920 census was housed in a temporary building at Sixth and B Streets, SW, except for some of the nonpopulation schedules being used on the fourth floor.

“Speculation and rumors about the cause of the blaze ran rampant. Some newspapers claimed, and many suspected, it was caused by a cigarette or a lighted match. Employees were keenly questioned about their smoking habits. Others believed the fire started among shavings in the carpenter shop or was the result of spontaneous combustion. At least one woman from Ohio felt certain the fire was part of a conspiracy to defraud her family of their rightful estate by destroying every vestige of evidence proving heirship. Most seemed to agree that the fire could not have been burning long and had made quick and intense headway; shavings and debris in the carpenter shop, wooden shelving, and the paper records would have made for a fierce blaze. After all, a watchman and engineers had been in the basement as late as 4:35 and not detected any smoke. Others, however, believed the fire had been burning for hours, considering its stubbornness. Although, once the firemen were finished, it was difficultto tell if one spot in the files had burned longer than any other, the fire’s point oforigin was determined to have been in
the northeastern portion ofthe file room (also known as the storage room) under the stock and mail room. Despite every investigative effort, Chief Census Clerk E. M. Libbey reported, no conclusion as to the cause was reached. He pointed to the strict rules against smoking, intactness of electrical wires, and noted that no rats had been found in the building for two months. He further reasoned that spontaneous combustion in bales of waste paper was unlikely, as they were burned on the outside and not totally consumed. In the end, even experts from the Bureau of Standards brought in to investigate the blaze could not determine the cause.

“The disaster spurred renewed cries and support for a National Archives, notably from congressmen, census officials, and longtime archives advocate J. Franklin Jameson. It also gave rise to proposals for better records protection in current storage spaces. Utah’s Senator Reed Smoot, convinced a cigarette caused the fire, prepared a bill disallowing smoking in some government buildings. The Washington Post expressed outrage that the Declaration of Independence and Constitution were in danger even at the moment, being stored at the Department of State in wooden cabinets.

“Meanwhile, the still soggy, “charred about the edges” original and only copies of the 1890 schedules remained in ruins. At the end of January, the records damaged in the fire were moved for temporary storage. Over the next few months, rumors spread that salvage attempts would not be made and that Census Director Sam Rogers had recommended that Congress authorize destruction of the 1890 census. Prominent historians, attorneys, and genealogical organizations wrote to new Secretary of Commerce Herbert Hoover, the Librarian of Congress, and other government officials in protest. The National Genealogical Society (NGS) and Daughters ofthe American Revolution formally petitioned Hoover and Congress, and the editor of the NGS Quarterly warned that a nationwide movement would begin among state societies and the press if Congress seriously considered destruction. The content of replies to the
groups was invariably the same; denial of any planned destruction and calls for Congress to provide for an archives building. Herbert Hoover wrote “the actual cost of providing a watchman and extra fire service (to protect records] probably amounts to more, if we take the government as a whole, than it would cost to put up a proper fire-proof archive building.”

“Still no appropriation for an archives was forthcoming. By May of 1921 the records were still piled in a large warehouse where, complained new census director William Steuart, they could not be consulted and would probably gradually deteriorate. Steuart arranged for their transfer back to the census building, to be bound where possible, but at least put in some order for reference.

“The extant record is scanty on storage and possible use of the 1890 schedules between 1922 and 1932 and seemingly silent on what precipitated the following chain of events. In December 1932, in accordance with federal records procedures at the time, the Chief Clerk of the Bureau of Census sent the Librarian of Congress a list of papers no longer necessary for current business and scheduled for destruction. He asked the Librarian to report back to him any documents that should be retained for their historical interest. Item 22 on the list for Bureau of the Census read “Schedules, Population . . . 1890, Original.” The Librarian identified no records as permanent, the list was sent forward, and Congress authorized destruction on February 21, 1933. At least one report states the 1890 census papers were finally destroyed in 1935, and a small scribbled note found in a Census Bureau file states “remaining schedules destroyed by Department of Commerce in 1934 (not approved by the Geographer).” Further study is necessary to determine, if possible, what happened to the fervent and vigilant voices that championed these schedules in 1921. How were these records overlooked by Library of Congress staff? Who in the Census Bureau determined the schedules were useless, why, and when? Ironically, just one day before Congress authorized destruction of the 1890 census papers. President Herbert Hoover laid
the cornerstone for the National Archives Building. Even after the outcry in 1921, thirteen years later the Census Bureau destroyed the remaining 1890 schedules.

“In 1942 the National Archives accessioned a damaged bundle of surviving Illinois schedules as part of a shipment of records found during a Census Bureau move. At the time, they were believed to be the only surviving fragments. In 1953, however, the Archives accessioned an additional set of fragments. These sets of extant fragments are from Alabama, Georgia, Illinois, Minnesota, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, South Dakota, Texas, and the District of Columbia and have been microfilmed as National Archives Microfilm Publication M407 (3 rolls). A corresponding index is available as National Archives Microfilm Publication M496 (2 rolls). Both microfilm series can be viewed at the National Archives, the regional archives, and several other repositories. Before disregarding this census, researchers should always verify that the schedules they seek did not survive. There are no fewer than 6,160 names indexed on the surviving 1890 population schedules. These are someone’s ancestors.”

BELL’S TAVERN: A Reminiscence of Ante-Bellum Days in Kentucky

The following was originally written by Rhoda Hite King, for “Appleton’s Journal” 3 October 1874

Who that visited the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky before “the cruel war,” does not remember the rural vine-covered inn, “Bell’s Tavern,” where travelers and tourists sojourned for an hour, a day, or days, perhaps, for rest and refreshments previous to the brief coach journey to the underground wonder, where each little torch, borne through the darkness, reveals more splendors than ever did Aladdin’s lamp?

The year before the firing at Fort Sumter, I passed a season at this tavern – 3 summer months, about which “the scent of the roses” will ever linger. Here I met many of the brave and beautiful, the fair and gifted, from Maine to Florida — From this quiet little inn there went out into the world of fashion and ton one of its leaders, Mrs.Senator Gwynn of California.

Here Sallie Ward Hunt, the belle par excellence of the Southwest, gathered roses, and made radiant with her beauty, the simple little parlor of the tavern.

Here I met General Leslie Coombs, the one living man I know, who has actually found the elixir of youth. Hair black as a raven, and no dye, white teeth, with no dentist’s bill behind them! He was at an advanced age (he was about 60 years old at the time!), the most youthful, vigorous, and charming of men.

Hither, one sultry July day, came Lovell H. Rousseau, handsome, gallant, and genial; he who so soon after won his double golden stars amid “shot and shell” as the hero of Perryville.

In this delightful retreat I met Tom Marshall, the eloquent. He was affable, almost boyish, amid the roses and strawberries, and brilliant after his “peach-and-honey.”

A propos of peach-and-honey: The bees dallied with the roses and lilies in the garden, and honey, “with a flavor so sweet one could scarce distinguish it from an odor,” was created. In the old-fashioned orchard the peaches grew and blushed, and were gathered. Down in a mysterious cellar they were placed and prepared by skillful hands, and lay there for years in darkness. Then, lo and behold! There came up nectar fit for the gods; a delicious amber-colored liquid, not yet perfect until the gollden honey was added.

And this was peach-and-honey!

Charles Dickens wrote his name on the register at Bell’s Tavern, acknowledged his peach-and-honey very good (this in a marginal note), went over to the Mammoth Cave, and returned for another glass.

I came to “mine inn” in this wise. A little dove-eyed invalid called me “mother.” The physician ordered me to leave the city (Louisville) for fresh air, cream, new-laid eggs – in short, I found them. My family party, including myself, was my baby girl (Lucy), a brown-skinned maid, and an immense doll, in gorgeous array, christened by some god-mother as “Pee-wee.” Whe we sallied forth, Pee-wee was always a member of the party. We lived al fresco. We were out in the sunshine morning, and noon, and, in the sweet twilight hours, we lingered under the trelissed arbors until the dews grew too heavy.

Native celebrities, of course, had Bell’s Tavern. There was Uncle Jim, the colored centenarian, who had received a “quarter” from Washington, and held Jefferson’s horse once upon a time. He had grown crescent-shaped, walked with a large cane, but was active, bright, and always honored by the guests. One of his accomplishments that was the delight of the little folks – he could imitate the chirping of a squirrel in a marvelous manner. He rather prided himself on this special gift.

One June morning, soon after our arrival, we strolled into the strawberry beds. As we walked down, I heard a sweet child-voice singing a quaint plantation melody. Nestled among the strawberry vines, with a basket almost filled with berries, was a little dark-skinned girl about 10 years old. She was not at all disconcerted at seeing us, but stopped her singing and exclaimed,”What a pretty little girl, and what a doll!” I asked her name. She said, “Shad.” The strawberries were traded, the doll was placed in Shad’s hands for temporary nursing, and a friendship was cemented. From this time until we parted, Shad’s devotion to me and mine was marvelous. She followed us everywhere.

This summer I had a “hobby” as most idle women have. It was geology. I had only a meagre school ignorance of the subject, but I rushed in practically. This portion of Kentucky abounds in peculiar geological specimens, not only in the cave in which to keep his milk and butter cool. Such jaunts I had, such specimens collected. I lived out-of-doors, and grew to a nut-brown tint, to the horror of my city friends, who dropped in now and then. In all my excursions, Shad accompanied me, in her little bare feet and uncovered head.

I had a sun-bonnet made for her, but her rueful face under it excited my pity. Shad, however, removed any difficulty by speedily filling it with specimens, as she had caught the word from me, and enjoyed using it. In time, my little rooms became a perfect “curiosity shop”of shells, pebbles mosses, ferns, and all kinds of stones, to the disgust of my tidy chamber-maid.

At 9 o’clock in the morning, the trains loitered an hour for breakfast – roses and strawberries, with cream, broiled chicken, fresh eggs, etc.! The L&N trains met, and there was always a pleasurable excitement, for one familiar face at least beamed on us daily.

This was the summer preceding the presidential election that made Mr. Lincoln chief magistrate. There was a vast deal of feeling in Kentucky, and my sympathies were strong.

One dewy, ambrosial morning, with my little “Duchess of Wonderland,” and her nurse, I seated myself in the coolest arbor of the beautiful old garden. Roses, and honeysuckle, and the clematis, shielded us from the morning sun, and the morning dew and freshness were an incense from heaven. My little girl lay on a rustic set, and was fed strawberries. Idly I read some dreamy volume. I heard footsteps, and before me stood a handsome, courtly old gentleman – no, not old in appearance. He raised his hat and blandly said:”Do you think I could have a few roses? Or would it be petty larceny?”

My answer was, “I have carte blanche here, and will gather you roses and violets too.”

This pleasant, genial gentleman took my little girl in his arms, and was evidently touched by her fragile beauty. We talked of many things and drifted into the presidential campaign. “How are your sympathies?” asked the charming gentleman.

My enthusiasm in regard to John C. Breckenridge was very intense, and so I expressed myself at length.

“What do you think of Douglas?” he said.

My reply was to the efeect that, knowing Mr. Douglas personally, I admired and honored him, but Mr. Breckenridge was the one whom I should like to see President.

The next question was, “What do you think of Bell?”

My emphatic answer was that of a half-informed young woman. My exhaustive sentiments were this: “Mr. Bell is the exponent of political principles in which I have no faith, and I personally consider him an unscrupulous man,” etc.

A curious smile played around his mouth. Footsteps approached. A venerable clergyman stood before us. He looked surprised at my companion, and said, “I was not aware you knew Mr. Bell.” And this was Mr. Bell!

I was disconcerted a moment, but Mr. Bell’s hearty, contagious laugh met its response, and how we did laugh, to be sure. He bade me good-bye, saying, “If I am elected President, I shall certainly give you an office, for you are a very brave champion!”

So we parted, and never met again. It strikes me curious how utterly we ignored, in our conversation, the possibility of Mr. Lincoln’s election. I think there was no electoral Lincoln in Kentucky – I may be mistaken.

One lovely summer Saturday I had a telegram from our poet -editor- the late George D. Prentice – that he would arrive on the evening train. I communicated the intellihence to my hostess and her hospitable husband. They began preparation to give a fitting reception to our honored guest.

Far and near, as the farmers came in for the daily “meal,” the news spread that Prentice was coming, and everybody who had taken the Journal for years felt it incumbent to contribute in doing honor to the expected guest. At 9 p.m., with a shriek and a whistle, the train came thundering up. On the platform the country-people loitered for a glimpse of the editor whose “pen was mightier than the sword,” for these election times were full of excitement, prescient, too, of tragedy and bloodshed, and in the days the Louisville Journal wielded a wondrous influence.

Always reticent, averse to being lionized, Prentice made his way swiftly to the little parlor. Thence he was conducted to his chambers, to remove the dust of an August day’s travel.

A supper at Bell’s Tavern was a theme fit for poetry, and our poet did justice to it. Broiled chicken, of the right crisp brown; coffee, strong and dark, made golden with delicious cream from cows that fed on clover, and all things fresh and nice; then there were waffles, rice-cakes, and all those delicious dishes that people persist in calling “indigestible!” Prentice, if not a gourmand, was certainly an epicure, and how he did enjoy that supper!

Prentice wasbrilliant, and after we adjourned to the parlor, he wrote an impromptu as exquisite as any of his printed verses. Before we separated for the night, the next day’s programme was arranged. We were slightly Sabbatarian, so there would be no excursions for the morrow -Sunday- but our guest must be presented. The day, first of all, was to be inaugurated by a morning walk while the dew sparkled on every flower and blade of grass.

Such a morning – such a walk! Dewy freshness on every leaf and blossom; the air redolent of a thousand perfumes, the fragrance ascending like incense to the sky – such a sky! Aurora from the east, all gold and red, and not far off the deep, cloudless azure whispering of the meridian heat to come! A perfect day, bringing health, exhilarartion, and vitality, to say nothing of appetite for a delicious breakfast! These meals at Bell’s Tavern were “miracles” that did “repeat” themselves.

The Sunday passed in sweet serenity that was not monotony. With the perfume of flowers, the singing of birds, and affluence of indiscursive talk, could there be monotony?

Monday’s sun rose gloriously. A delightful little party had been arranged for the Diamond Cave. You don’t even know this bijou of a cave, but perhaps you should. Scarce a mile in extent, but glittering with gems, radiant with beauty, brilliant in wonders – you might call it a mile of fairyland. Beautiful bit of poetry, magical mile of romance, you still exist, while my tavern is gone! A short drive, and not a long walk, from the inn, our merry party went, some in carriages, others strolling through the ambrosial forest. Now, that was “a day to mark with a white pebble.”

We took flowers, we decorated shrines; we christened chambers and bowers with names we loved; we wove fancies, and were altogether a dreamy, lotus-eating party. We came back, however, to delicious, real life, when the aroma of dinner greeted us on our return.

I need not swell on the next day’s excursion, nor the 2 days’ lingering at the Mammoth Cave, where between sublimity and awe and fatigue, one is almost overpowered. Prentice left us. When next I saw him, he was heart-stricken, mourning the loss of a gallant son, who fought under the flag of scarlet and white, and so gave his life.

The next visitor who came to us, whose memory I cherish, was John J. Crittenden, the statesman beloved in life, revered in death.

How these reminiscences sadden me! How many, who brightened and briefened for me, that eventful summer, have “gone before!” Crittenden, Bell, Rousseau, and Prentice, sleep in their respective family burying grounds. Others fell on the battlefield, bravely fighting. Some lay dead in the gray and gold – some in the blue uniform; wherever they are, may their gravesbe covered with perennial flowers!

Years after I went back to the old place. Bell’s Tavern lay in ruins, the victim of a destructive fire. I wandered into the garden. the tangled roses bloomed in fragrance and beauty. The strawberries grew at their own sweet will, but a spirit of desolation reigned. Down in the orchard the apple trees were pink and white with bloom. Under the spreading boughs of one, Uncle Jom lay sleeping peacefully. By his side a tiny mound covered Shad. The little tireless feet were at rest forever. I was not ashamed of the tears that fell on the flower petals covering these graves. A new Bell’s Tavern has arisen from the ashes – but it’s not my tavern, with its memories bright and now sacred.

Rhoda Hite King

Datepoint: Mother’s Day

People across America will be observing Mother’s Day on Sunday and a West Virginia woman will be lauded as the creator of the holiday while the Kentucky woman who was the true author and originator of the idea will be forgotten. Few Kentuckians will recall that our day of honor for mothers was born in Henderson, Kentucky.
Mary (“Mamie”) Towles Sasseen, a school teacher and principal at the Center Street School in Henderson, was the first promote the idea when she organized a Mother’s Day celebration in her school in 1887.
Convinced her idea was valid, Mamie published a booklet entitled “Mother’s Day Celebration” in 1893. In her booklet, Mamie explained that she realized how much influence a person can have on a child and concluded “that by celebrating Mother’s Day once a year, much of the veneration, love and respect due to parents might, by song, verse and story, be inculcated in the next generation.” Her idea was to observe Mother’s Day with programs honoring mothers in schools all across America. With no particular date in mind, Mamie selected April 20 which was her own mother’s birthday.
More specifically, Mamie thought student recitations about mothers and motherhood would be ideally paired with songs about home. She wrote, “home as the magic circle within which the weary spirit finds refuge; the sacred asylum to which the care-worn heart retreats to find rest. Home! That name touches every fiber of the soul. Nothing but death can break its spell, and dearer than home is the mother who presides over it.”
It was Mamie’s feeling that “every man and woman, whom the world has called ‘great,’ whose words have been treasured for their wisdom and goodness, all cherished their memories of mother, of happy, innocent childhood and of home.” She added that her hope was “awakening on the part of the child, a deeper appreciation of her, who is the central figure of the home. That it may strengthen the family bonds, making them more beautiful and tender, that I may breathe a hope of that future where language is music, thought is light, and love is law.”
Traveling extensively to educational meetings, Mamie led the effort to establish Mother’s Day. By 1894, she had convinced the public schools of Springfield, Ohio to join her Henderson County observance.
A dedicated educator, Mamie ran for Kentucky Superintendent of Public Instruction in 1899. During the campaign, newspapers mentioned her push for Mother’s Day and her victorious opponent even credited her with being the “author and originator” of the idea.
In 1904, Mamie married Judge William Marshall Wilson and moved to Florida. In a cruel twist of fate, the woman who worked to create Mother’s Day died in childbirth on April 18, 1906.
The following year, 1907, Anna Jarvis of West Virginia began her work to establish the holiday which she did by creating “Mother’s Day International, Inc.” and she trademarked the phrase “second Sunday of May” and “Mother’s Day” which must “be a singular possessive, for each family to honor their mother, not a plural possessive commemorating all mothers in the world.”
Jarvis’ work occurred 14 years after Mamie Towles Sasseen Wilson published her booklet and began her movement for Mother’s Day. Twenty-one years after Mamie launched her project, Congress approved a resolution and President Woodrow Wilson signed a proclamation declaring the second Sunday of May as a national holiday known as Mother’s Day.
One of the few places you’ll find mention of the originator of Mother’s Day is on Historical Marker #191 in Henderson.

Strange Rain of 28 July 1890

Glasgow Times. Undated. Courtesy South Central KY Cultural Center.

An unusual rain was reported to have fallen in the Coral Hill neighborhood on July 28, 1890. At that time a strange rain fell for an 8-hour stretch but still didn’t lay the dust and was “hot enough to boil an egg.” An account of the singular downpour was contained in a newspaper clipping owned by Lewis Mayfield of Cave City and brought to The Times this week by Grover Long, also of Cave City. Both were reared in theCoral Hill community and recall hearing accounts of the fabulous rain.

Written by John Gibonnoise from Coral Hill, the story follows:

“We have been dry in this section of the county for some time, but on last Saturday morning heavy singular colored clouds began to bank up in the east and by 10 o’clock it began to rain very hard. But there was something very singular about this rain.

“Although it poured down for eight hours without stopping and fell so thick and fast that anyone might stand in it for the space of ten minutes and become thoroughly wet, it didn’t even lay the dust; it wet all the vegetation that reached as high as two feet from the ground, but it seemed to vanish before reachmg the ground.

“The water was almost hot enough to boil an egg, and at some places was boiling hot. Mr. Reuben Hutchins, a farmer living about one mile east of this place, had two horses in the pasture and the hair was scalded from their backs. The oldest inhabitant claims to have never heard of anything like it before and everybody is in a high state of excitement.

“Another singular feature about this is that eight distinct rainbows appeared. Three of them were of a bright golden color. Several noted scientists have visited us since this remarkable rain, but can not, or at least have not, thrown any light on the subject.

“This may appear unreasonable, but it can be proven by any number of reputable citizens, including F.M. Jones, postmaster at this place and Mr. N. G. Terry, a minister of the gospel.”

One Spooky Graveyard

This article appeared in the Barren County Historical Society’s Traces quarterly magazine, Volume 26, Fall Issue number 3 (1998), and was written by the late local historian William Lester Thomas. Some of the information is not completely accurate, but I have posted it for the encompassed history of certain families. Hope you enjoy!

(Contributed by William Lester Thomas)
On a bluff overlooking Buck Creek and the old Sulphur Well Hotel (Holman’s) area there is a large and very old graveyard, dating back to 1798 when then Warren County encompassed the area. It is where that old surveyor, Scout, and survivor of the Blue Licks massacre, Valentine Dickerson and family are buried.

Several incidents occurred in that area to lend some credence to various happenings
reported at the graveyard as observed by old timers of past.

• 1. “Old Valentine” along with Hugh McGary had, with tomahawk and sword in hand, chopped their way thru many Indian raids and lived to a ripe old age of 85 when he died, 1835.
• 2. A great grandson of Valentine, Asa Lewis. while serving as a volunteer Confederate soldier was singled out by C. S. A. General Braxton Bragg so as to vent his revenge on Kentuckians and was murdered by firing squad on the outskirts of Murfreesboro, Tennessee, in 1862 and buried therein, unmarked and never relocated.
• 3. Another great grandson of Valentine, while a teenager at home in the Dickerson house, was gathered up by a passing Civil War unit, conscripted, marched off, and saw the war end while he was in Georgia. Being discharged there with no money, no horse, he stayed rather than risk walking back to Kentucky and John Lawrence was never seen bv familv again.
• 4. A man from Allen Countv bv the name of Weaver had for many years crossed Barren River and visited the Buck Creek people, all the time drinking whiskey bought, most heavy , and then would proceed to take advantage of them and took liberty of the local girls and women until he passed out. slept it off. and left. But his last visit was during sorghum molasses making time at the main forks of Buck Creek at Frank Lawrence and Daniel Butlers’ places where he was much drunk by the time he arrived at the sorghum mill, and to show off his fearless spirit, he proceeded to urinate in the Sorghum pan and ruined that life giving sweetener the people had worked hard for. This was the end, the straw that broke the camel’s back, the people tolerated abuse, disgracing their women, but “to ruin a pan of sorghum was toomuch!” Weaver was led and cajoled to go spend the night with Jim Settles on the hill, whereupon the Settles and Wiltshire women kept pouring whiskey to him, and when he passed out, according to Glasgow newspapers, men entered, told Mr. Settles to leave while they killed old Weaver. Another version was told to me by Hcnrv Payne, a resident of the area and was 6 yrs. old at the time (1878). When the Wiltshire women, tired of his abuses killed him and with hatchets cut him into *pork chop’ si/c pieces, wrapped him in a quilt, drug him out the ridge and dumped him in a vertical cave, (sink hole) on now Jesse Butler’s place. The body parts were located when a neighbor. Bob Lawrence, kept seeing Weaver’s little dog run thru the bushes and peer over into the sink hole and whine for its master. As a record of fact. Barren Circuit Court refused to trv’ the case saying it didn’t demand a felony trial and remanded it back to a local Justice of the peace. Henrv Payne said the neighbors themselves tried the women, said they had rid the area of a miserable excuse for a man but to ward off any interference by Glasgow authorities, the Wiltshire women sold out and went west to Tulsa, OK and to Texas, never tried by anyone except neighbors. To this day the hole is known as the “Weaver Hole.”
• 5. Many times thru the years several residents have seen a “gaseous ball” of fire come up the hill by way of low ground in a branch, break out across the open field to the South and West of the Dickerson/Lawrence graveyard, proceed across the field, about chest to head high of a normal man, then disappear in the brush of the graveyard.

Since the entry is from the South, many have said that it is the ghost of Asa Lewis, the murdered soldier looking to rest with his relatives; while others would say “old Weaver” is again coming among them to
terrorize and intimidate the people buried there, while others believe that young soldier John Lawrence has finally left Georgia and come home, or it could be an old Indian chief come to look up and tomahawk, “old Valentine.”

My father, educated little, but of practical thoughts and scared of nothing I ever saw, would say that a gaseous ball from old abandoned oil wells over the hill would comc up when the atmosphere was right (usually dark and foggy night) and with the general south west breeze, it traveled north cast across the field and dropped out of sight thru the graveyard on the bluff.

Another time one of my brothers, Calvin, and a neighbor were walking home at night and as they ncared the graveyard, a what would seem to be a faceless rider whipped his horse by them, jumped upon the bank and disappeared in the brush of the graveyard as a cavalry trooper of days gone by would. The neighbor was scared speechless but my brother didn’t think another thing of it as if it was a normal occurrence! Calvin, like my father, was not easily scared.

The Dickerson/Lawrence/Buck Creek graveyard is at the end of Littrel road overlooking Buck Creek on the Bessie Mae Jones farm. Most observers of this gaseous phenomenon are now gone, since no one lives below that area now. Only a few that I know of now still live, but one thing is for sure, once the people were buried there, no relatives ever visited or decorated the graves unless the sun was shining bright and they left before nightfall in a hurry!

For me, I would go with the “wronged and murdered” soldier. Asa Lewis looking for solace, or Weaver and the Devil still seeking to maraud the area or, could it be John Lawrence coming home?

SUMMER 1891 – FURIOUS FLAMES!

From the Barren County Progress, Volume 55, Number 34, 1991. FROM THE PAST.

“A Good Portion of the Town Quickly In Ashes. The largest and most disastrous fire that ever happened in Glasgow occurred here Friday morning. Flames were discovered around 3:30 o’clock that morning issuing from a frame building on the west side of Green street, the lower part of which was occupied by William Wood’s saddlery shop and the upper story by the Union, a Farmers’ Alliance newspaper recently started here. The building was a frame, and soon, together with the grocery store next door, was a mass of flames.
“An alarm was raised as soon as the fire was discovered, and in a shot nearly every one in town was at the scene. There was a strong wind blowing directly from the south, which carried the flames into the rear of Morris & Co.’s large dry goods and clothing house, on the southeast corner of Green and Washington streets, setting that building on fire, after which the fire got utterly beyond all control on account of the limited means at hand to fight it.
“The flames spread rapidly, and next attacked Boles’ hall, the property of E. Morris, and in succession the post office, Ganter House, and E. Morris’ handsome residence, situated in the middle of the square, on Washington street. In less than an hour from the time the fire was first discovered, one of the handsomest blocks of buildings in Glasgow was totally in ruins. At one time the whole business portion of the town was threatened, and a heroic fight was made to save the endangered buildings. Between Mr. Morris’ residence and the Riggs Hotel, on the corner of Washington and Race streets, there was a flower garden, and it is due to this fact that this hotel escaped. It was on fire in different places several times, but was saved by covering the exposed portions of the roof with blankets and keeping them saturated with water. Had this house gone the entire west side of the square would, in all probability, have been destroyed also. The court-house, too, caught fire several times from flying sparks and embers, and it was saved by a hard effort.
“Across Green street from Morris and Co.’s store the large plate-glass windows were broken by the intense heart in both Christmas and Son’s grocery store and Ed Ganter’s jewelry house, while O. C. Pace’s grocery, the Odd Fellows’ handsome new building and the Times office were badly scorched, and were preserved only after a most strenuous fight. Morris and Co. are the heaviest losers, their loss aggregating about $50,000. E. Morris’ dwelling is also a total loss, amounting to $4,500.
“J. L. Bryan loses about $2,000 with no insurance and H. C. Trigg, four frame buildings
at about $1,000 with no insurance. The other losses are about as severe.
“Ward Long, grocery, $?, insurance $500; William Wood, saddlery $500, insurance
$200; F. Morris, $500, no insurance; John Dillon, shoe shop, $1000, no insurance; John Bullock,
fiiiits and confections, $100, covered by insurance; Tubbs & Davidson, produce merchant, $100,
? Ganter, $250, no insurance. The Odd Fellows building was damaged to the extent of about $500, the Times office about $300, O. C. Pace, $100, and Christmas & Sons about $150, all fully covered by insurance.
“The post-office fixtures and some of the outgoing mail, was also destroyed with the building in which the office is situated. The Union, the Farmers’ Alliance organ here, was destroyed, loss not known.
“Just how the fire originated is a mystery, and it is yet uncertain whether it started in the newspaper office or the shop underneath. The fire is probably the most disastrous in the history of the town.
“Where They Are. Balduff, the shoemaker, has taken his tools to his residence, and will
probably open a shop there.
“Mr. Dillon is as yet undecided where he will open up.
“Wood Long and Mr. Wm. Wood will open up at the same old sands [sic] just as soon as
Mr. Trigg can build houses for diem.
“Mr. Morris is absent in Asheville, N. C., and of course nobody knows what he will do.
“The post office is for the present at least, in the Jewell building, next door to Locke’s. It
is not known where it will be permanently located.
“Where the post office is, there will be John Bullock also.
“Dr. Ganter has already opened up in the Terry old boarding house, comer of Main and
Cross Streets.
“The Singer Sewing Machine Company have their office in Shobe’s confectionary.”

Never Enough of Bell’s Tavern!

Idaho Springs News, Volume IX, Number 7
May 15th, 1891
THE OLD BELL TAVERN.

About fifty miles from Louisville on the old Louisville and Nashville turnpike there once stood a famous house, known as Bell’s Tavern. Nothing but ragged ruins of heavy stone, slowly crumbling in a spacious yard thickly set with venerable trees, now remain of that once celebrated stand. What famous people have gathered about the great log fire in the main sitting-room of Bell’s Tavern. Henry Clay entertained many a company there and old Tom Marshall, half full of liquor, and wholly full of wit and eloquence. was a frequent guest. In those days theo stagecoach, in communnities remote from waterways; was the great agent of civilization, and the governor of a state, while he might be admired for his manly virtues. could not hope to rival the stage driver. The driver may have been a man of no education, may have been surly in disposition and boorish in manner, but he was surely the greatest individual that stopped at Bell’s Tavern. The most pronounced type of driver was Jo Hatton. There was always a crowd to greet him when he arrived. People that were eager to hear from the outside worid, would gather about the coach when it drew up, and would ply Jo with questions, but he disdained any answer until he had gone Into the bar-room and taken a drink. There was no man too proud to take the handful of lines that Jo threw to him. It was an honor to catch the reins, and it was said, though of course I cannot vouch for its truth, that Henry Clay used to shove himself forward to discharge this envied office.

One evening, many years ago, a bright company was gathored about the famous fireplace. There was Henry Clay, who having come from a great convention held at Nashville. had stopped at the tavern to rest before going on to his home; there was Tom Marshall, who was on his way to attend a murder trial in the southern part of the state; and among the rest, and not an unimportant factor, either, was Miss Levenia Moss, a niece of old man Bell, a girl who had charmed Washington society with her beauty and wit. There was also present a young lawyer named Green, a devoted admirer of Miss Moss.

“I wonder what can be keeping Jo Hatton so long this evening?’’ Said old man Bell. “It is after eight and he ought to have been here by seven.” “I reckon it’s because the roads are so bad,” Green answered. ‘ The turnpike is never bad.” replied Bell. “There’s not a street in Louisville as good. ” Old Tom Marshall was dozing. The old fellow had indulged freely in apple brandy and having poured out his eloquence, was now resting. Clay, to the annoyance of Green, was paying compliments to Miss Moss. “I am anxious to know what’s going on,” said Bell “I can’t get along without news.” “Well,” responded Green “we’ll have news after a while, for I hear that the young fellow that wrote Mr. Clay’s life is going to edit a newspaper. Oh. I tell you when you’ll get news Mr. Bell.” “When?” “Why. when they put up that tele-graph line. You won’t have to wait for a stage driver then.” The old man grunted contemptuously. “Telegraph line, ” he repeated. ‘I’ll bet ten dollars that I can walk and carry a letter from here to Louisville quickor than that thing can. How the deuce are they going to shove a letter along a wire without wearing it out? Don’t talk to me about no such a fool thing. There’s the stage horn.” The company ran out to the front gate. The night was cool and crisp, and the echo of the horn rolled far away down the valley. The young lawyer caught the lines when the stage drew up. “What’s the news?” they all began to cry. Jo did not answer, but leaping to the ground went into the bar room. He was eagerly watched as he stood, stirring his hot toddy. Tom Marshall was now wide awake.

“What’s the news below?” he asked. “Oh, nothin’ of much account. I reckon you all heard about the Cogswell murder down yander?” “Yes. we have heard of that, but we have not heard that the murderer has been caught.” “He hasn’t been. It was this er way: This feller Donnell—you all know him. lived down in this neighborhood an’ ’tended a crap of co’n fur old man Mumford last year—” “I know him as well as I do anybody,” said old man Bell. “Heavy set, black eyed fellow.” “Yes, that’s him. Well, you see, he went to live with his grandmother, old Miz. Porter. She was a thrifty old Soul as ever lived, and after her husband’s death, she wanted Donnell to come down and crap it with her. Well, he hadn’t been there long till he found Out some way that the old woman had a lot of gold, but he oouldnt find out where she kept it. Finally he diskivered that she had it in a old stockin’, but to save him he couldn’t find out what she did with it in the day time. He worried along this way for some time, and at last he was determined to have that money whuther or no; so one night while the old woman was asleep, he went to her room and tried to get the stockin’ out free under her head. She woke up and then he hit her on the head with a hammer. He got the money, but the old woman was not quite dead. No, sir, she lived to tell who had done the deed and now the folks air lookin’ fur Doanali every-whar.” “Mr. Clay,’’ said young Green, ••would you as a lawyer, defend such a man as that? I must confess.” he continued. glancing at the beautiful girl, “that I fear that I have too high an idea of justice to succeed at the rough and tumble practice of the law. I don’t think I could defend such a fellow.” “I should not like to defend him.” Clay answered, “and I would not do it for money, but if I were appointed by the court I should do my best to clear him. “Knowing, too, that he had committed so foul a murder?” the young man asked. Yes, for the atrocity of his crime would be no weight in face of my duty to obey the court. I once cleared a man whom I knew was a thief, but I was appointed by the court” “And did the fellow prove his gratitude by becoming an honest man?” “No, I am glad to say that he did not?’’

“Glad to say that he did not? Why. Mr. Clay. I am astonished at you. How can you rejoice in any one’s dishonesty?” “As a general thing I can not” Clay replied, “but in this case I did rejoice somewhat. You see he went over into another county, and several years afterward stole a horse. I happened to be prosecuting attorney then, and i had the satisfaction of sending him to the penitentiary for ten years.” “Well,” said old Tom Marshall, “it Is an easy matter for me to believe any man innocent, when I need money. With me. a thief in need, is sometimes a friend indeed.” “Come,” said the landlord, “let us all go to supper.” A number of neighbors came in aftor supper, and when Jo delivered himself of his budget of news, and had begun to express his opinions, other people began to talk. So long as Jo devoted himself to news, there was a respectable silence on the part of others, but when he began to pass an opinion, he immediately sank to his proper level, that of a commonplace and uneducated man.

The evening was not very far spent when it was suggested by some of the neighbor girls that they should play some sort of game. Green. who was piqued and wanted a chance.to punish Miss Moss, remarked that forfeits was the thing. They agreed, and the game was begun. Green was fortunate and it soon came his time to pronounce sentence upon the beauty. “What shall it be?” she asked. “You must take a candle,” said Green, “and alone must go to each room in the house, and look for the time-honored man under the bed.”

“Oh that’s too hard, Mr. Green.” “Oh, no. it isn’t Go on or you will break up the play.” Clay and Marshall interceded for the girl, and suggested a lighter penalty, but Green would accept no compromise. “Go ahead. Levenia.” said old man Bell “There’s nothing to hurt you. Od zounds,” he added, with energy. “I didn’t think that a person of the Bell blood was afraid of anything.” “I’ll go,” she said taking up a lighted candle. “You must give us your word that you will look under every bed in the house,’* Green demanded. “I will,” she answered as she passed out into the hall. Five minutes elapsed. Suddenly a terrific shriek startled them, and then they heard hurried footsteps coming down the stairway, not the slippered feet that had ascended a few moments before, but the jarring jumps of heavy boots. The men ran into the hallway just in time to encounter a man, a heavy-set fellow, with black eyes. “It is Donnell, the murderer!” cried old Bill. “Stand, or I will kill you!” The fellow was seized and bound hand and foot. By this time the girl, deathly pale, came shrieking down the stairs.

“Come, come,” said Bell, “it’s all over and there is no need of being scared. Bring some brandy, Jo. She’ll be all right In a minute. Take good care of this fellow. Lock him up in the cellar. On with him.” Mr. Bell took charge of the trembling girl and the men conducted the murderer to the cellar. Just as they were about to leave him lying on a pile of straw, there came the startling cry of fire. When morning came the once famous house was a heap of ruins. When the girl found the murderer under the bed, she dropped the candle on a pile of paper. Donnell’s charred bones were found in the cellar. That was many, years ago, and all the actors have passed away. Last week I saw some children playing about the ruins. I heard a little boy say: ‘Tie me an’ take me down in there, an’ play that I’m the murderer- ”

History of Merry Oaks

The following article was taken from the Glasgow Republican
Thursday July 26, 1984:

“The following history of the Merry Oaks community was compiled by Brice T. (Pete) Leech from information provided by Mrs. Virginia Galloway of the Merry Oaks community.

“In the Barren County Clerk’s office. in Deed Rook R, page 334, there is an entry date 22 March 1845, showing a transfer of property between Schyler H. and Rebecca Murrell and Thomas S. and Elizabeth Denton to John White and Thomas Strange. It reads in part – ‘…a certain tract or parcel of land situated in Barren County on the road leading from Glasgow to Bowling Green. Including the place called and known by the name of “Merry Oaks”, containing twenty two acres…’
“One of the oldest references to Merry Oaks is in a story written by Miss Virginia Snoddy, daughter of H.M. Snoddy, that appeared in a 1936 Glasgow Times. In this article, Miss Snoddy quoted an old-timer who quoted an ‘Aunt Betty’, a ‘very old citizen of Merry Oaks who has long since passed to her reward.’
“Aunt Betty says, ‘I have spent all my life around Merry Oaks. I was born in 1810, and when I was a little girl, we lived about three miles from Merry Oaks. “Pap” would let me go with him to the store, the blacksmith shop, and the horse races. It was the races which really gave rise to the name. There was a good one mile track located on the rise above the spring. This track was kept in excellent condition, and there was a good racing stable operated by a man named Murrell. It was said that his horses were as good as could be found in the state. Two of them, “Copperbottom” and “Richards” were widely known and very popular. When the big races were run, people from far and wide would come, and all kinds of amusements were furnished the crowds. Ten pins, cards, dice, target practice, wrestling, shooting matches, and fist fights were mong the many attractions. Homemade whiskey and brandy were cheap and plentiful; therefore, under the shade of the many oaks, was gathered a very merry crowd. So you now see a reason for the name, “Merry Oaks”?’
“Loretta Murrey reports that the Mt. Tabor Church shows in minutes of March, 1821: ‘Report having become general that Brother Armstead Hester has been guilty of racing and fighting. Brother Pinter was directed to invite his attendance on the Friday of the next meeting to answer for his conduct in this behalf.’
“And in the June minutes: ‘the case of Bro. Armstead Hester resumed and he excluded for want of a satisfactory acknowledgement.’
“Aunt Betty continued: ‘Nor were the horse races the only occasion for merry-making in the old days of Merry Oaks! Elections were occasion for great excitement and merry-making. When Henry Clay and James K. Polk were competing for the 1844 presidency, a Polk rally was held at Merry Oaks that lasted three days. A barbeque trench sixty-six feet long was made, and during the three days. it was kept covered with mutton, beef, pork and turkey.
“Aunt Betty continues: ‘The hotel was owned and operated by Charles Denton. In the merry days of Merry Oaks. its hotel was very famous for its comfort and good food and drink. It was so widely known and popular that Andrew Jackson on a trip from Nashville to Washington city spent the night there instead of going to Sells Hotel at Glasgow Junction.’
“Dr. N.P. Allen of Smiths Grove, writing under the name of ‘Ripetoe’ in a copy of the Glasgow Times of 1904. tells of the William Denton tavern in the 1840’s. Mr. Denton also had a blacksmith shop and a storehouse. In the early I950s, Dr. Allen saw at a big show in Merry Oaks a live giraffe – the only one he ever saw. He also wrote of a big horse race in 1853 or 54 between the Hiram Smith stables of Warren County and the Alanson Trigg stables of Barren County.
“Dr. Allen’s article states ‘Merry Oaks was headquarters for stockmen and furnished the sport of Charlie Denton’s “Merry Oaks” race track. where rich Southerners spent the summer, for the Denton Tavern, extensive in all its appointments, was famous for its rooms, table and service.’
“Vivian Rousseau, in her ‘Background of a Bank’, quotes Dr. R.H. Grinstead writing in 1902 of famous horses from this area. He mentions the Hiram Smith-Alanson Trigg race at Merry Oaks. Dr. Grinstead wrote of several other fine race horses, including ‘Copperbottom’ owned by James Murrell. “Franklin Gorin in his ‘Times of Long Ago’ says that Schuyler and James Murrell were among the first freighters in Barren County. He also says of James Murrell that he was ‘fond of and owner of fine horses’.
“A more recent native of Merry Oaks who made a name for herself was Mrs. Cordia Greer Petrie, creator of the numerous ‘Angeline’ stories. She was born in Merry Oaks 12 February 1872, daughter of Newt and Sallie Settles Greer. Her mother was from Old Rocky Hill. The family moved to Louisville, and Cordia Greer graduated from Eminence College. In July of 1894, she was married to Dr. H.G. Petrie of Fairview, Ky. Dr. Petrie died in 1944, Mrs. Petrie in 1964, at age 92. Mrs. Petrie claimed that Angeline, her husband Lum, and son James Henry, lived in Barren County – and you can guess that was in Merry Oaks.”

LIFE OF HONORABLE CHRISTOPHER TOMPKINS AND FAMILY

The following sketch was written by Franklin Gorin, author of The Times of Long Ago. This may be found on page 105. Reprints of the book are available through the Barren County Historical Society.
“Christopher Tompkins was born in Virginia in the year 1780. He was the son of John Tompkins, who emigrated to Fayette County, Kentucky in 1794, but who died before he was permanently
settled.
“Gwynn T., the oldest son, then purchased the beautiful farm three miles north of Lexington and settled the family there.
“Christopher went to live with the Hon. John Breckinridge, Senator, a man of considerable repute, at ‘Cabell’s Dale’, in Fayette county, near Lexington. He lived with him a number of
years, and while there studied law. He had the advantage of legal teachings of Mr. Breckinridge; also of his library, an excellent one, both law and miscellany. He was a student, and improved his time and advantages. We do not know what school he attended, but we do know he was a good scholar, both in Latin and English, not a smatterer. He was a grammarian, logician, and arithmetician. He often said arithmetic mathematics was the foundation of a good education.
“His pronunciation was very good – he drank deeply of the British classics; he read them with a relish and pleasure up to a late period. He was also a good and accurate historian, familiar with both Ancient and Modern History.
“He was sober and temperate in all things. He would amuse himself in leisure moments with his friends by a game of chess or whist, though he was not an expert at either. His language was chaste, his only oath ‘By Jupiter’. His knowledge of books was no doubt acquired, to a considerable extent, after he commenced the practice of law,
“He began his practice as a lawyer in the Green River country. Whether he first settled at Henderson or Greenville in Muhlonburgh (sic.) County, we do not know. He, however, lived in Greenville, where he was induced to go, no doubt, on account of the good society there of the Worthingtons, Wings, Rumseys, McLeans, Weirs, Shorts, Eaves, McNarys, Russells, and so on. While there he was a constant and welcome visitor at the home of General Samuel Hopkins, near the Red Banks, who had a number of charming daughters – educated and refined women.
“Christopher Tompkins represented the county of Muhlenburgh in the House of Representatives in 1805, While in the Legislature he met Theodosia Logan, whom he married. She was a daughter of Gen, Benj, Logan, an early pioneer of Lincoln County, who moved to Kentucky in May, 1777, and built Logan’s Fort, near Stanford, in which he lived. He was a celebrated Indian fighter, and the progenitor of a race of noble men.
“Tompkins, soon after his marriage, removed to Russellvllle, where he was residing when he received the appointment of Circuit Judge of this circuit, about 1809-10. He removed to this county and settled on a farm on Boyd’s Creek, two and a half miles from Glasgow, where the late Carey Snoddy lived and died.
“Afterwards, about 1816, he built the brick house on the Bardstown turnpike where Lucian Carden now lives, and removed to Glasgow, where he resided until the death of his estimable wife, and until his children who were living had married.
“He presided as Judge at the March term, 1818, on the trial of John C. Hamilton for the murder of Dr. Sanderson. On that trial all the rulings of doubtful character were decided in favor of the prisoner.
“It is a remarkable fact, during his long life as Judge, he never had a serious difficulty with his bar. He presided with dignity, firmness, and courtesy; his bar loved him; he had no favorites, or if he had, he never let it be known while on the bench.
“Not a whisper or insinuation was ever heard against his honor, integrity or the firmness of his decisions. However, we do not intend to convey the idea that he never misconceived or
misapplied the law, for ‘to err is human.’
“He was esteemed, and truly a learned, honest and upright Judge. He enjoyed and possessed the confidence and respect of his bar, officers of: the court, litigants and the public, throughout his circuit in a degree seldom obtained by present Judges.
“He was honest in his dealings, pure in his morals, modest, diffident and unobtrusive in his intercourse with his fellow man; he was humble, quiet.and unostentatious; he was a stranger to
that pride which proceeds from little minds, from riches, birth, place or connections. He was always approachable by the poor or distressed, and ready to assist all with his advice, counsel or purse. He was above and hated a mean act.
“As a husband, father, master and friend, he was all that nature admits. He disliked the wanton destruction of birds, animals, and so on. He was in favor of the general emancipation of slavery, provided the condition of slaves was not rendered worset and satisfaction made to the master. He was opposed to avarice in all its phases. He was economical from principle,
prudence, and, perhaps, from necessity. He was not rich – he owned a few slaves, his house in town, and some personal property. He had a growing family of ten children to be educated and maintained. His salary was always low, from $1,000 to $1,500 when highest. His dress was plain but neat. He always had a large circuit, at one time it included Wayne, Cumberland, Adair, Green, Barren, Hart, and Monroe counties, and perhaps Casey County.
“In politics he was firm and unflinching. He opposed the new election of a Governor upon the death of Gov. Madison, in 1816, which created much excitement and strife that was finally
settled by the people, that the constitution provided the Lt. Governor to administer the government until a regular election. He was opposed to the Stay-laws of 1820, Replevin laws, New Court and Banks of the Commonwealth, because of their bad policy and their violations of the Constitution.
“In 1824, he resigned the office of Circuit Judge and became a candidate for Governor in opposition to the New Court party. He was defeated by Gen. Desha.
“He immediately formed a partnership with his nephew, John Tompkins, a young lawyer of Glasgow of much promise, and resumed the practice of law.
“After the Whig and Democratic parties were formed, he being a great admirer of Henry Clay and his measures, to-wit: The Missouri Compromise, the U.S. Internal Improvements and the protection of Home Manufactures, he espoused the cause of the Whigs.
“He was always opposed to political life, though he held and loved political principles, and it was only ‘by the urgent importunity of friends that he would consent to become a candidate for political office;. Acting upon these principles he had been a candidate for Governor, and yielding again to his friends’ wishes he became, in 1831, a candidate for Congress in this district against Joel Yancey, who had beat his old friend Frank Johnson in 1827-29. Tompkins beat Yancey a handsome majority in the district, and 20-1 or 2 votes in this county. This was
quite a victory, Yancey having never been beaten before in this county. In 1853 Tompkins was a candidate for re-election. Elijah Hise was his opponent. He was again elected. At the expiration of his term he declined to become a candidate again, and was succeeded, as he wished, by J.R. Underwood, his ever intimate friend.
“He continued the practice of law with his son, C. Tompkins, Jr.,after his retiam from Congress, until his son’s death, April 5th, 1837. C. Tompkins, Jr., was one of the most promising young men of the county – young as he was, twenty-nine years of age, he had been twice elected to the House of Representatives of the Kentucky Legislature, in 1835 and 6, He died at Frankfort, not having returned home after the close of the session. He had given general satisfaction, and his death was universally regretted.

“Ben Monroe having resigned in 1837, Christopher Tompkins, Sr., was again appointed Judge of the Circuit Court; and, as before,gave entire satisfaction. At the March term, 1843, he again resigned as Judge, and was succeeded by Richard A. Buckner. In 1843, and for two or three months in each of the succeeding years, he delivered a course of law lectures to about twenty young students, from this and other counties.
“In 1850 he was a candidate for a seat in the convention that framed our present Constitution, A cry was made ‘he is an abolitionist’. He was defeated, although he declared that he would be
against any proposition to abolish slavery without satisfaction given to the owners, and the condition of the slaves made better. At his death he emancipated his slaves. He determined to retire to private life, having lost his wife, three unmarried daughters – Letitia. Elizabeth and Caroline, and three promising sons (his only sons), John, Christopher, and Benjamin, in their young manhood when all his hopes and wishes promised to be realized and his good name and fame perpetuated. These trials weighed him down, together with the one caused by the death of his trusty servant, Frederick, who was killed by his carriages horses while carrying his daughter Ann, and one other young lady to a wedding. The horses ran off one mile from Glasgow. They were perfectly gentle – one of them Tompkins’ old favorite brown horse Allan-bane. They were frightened by some imprudent, reckless young men galloping behind and up to the carriage, darted from the road into the woods killing faithful Frederick instantly. They dashed the carriage against a tree and nearly endangered his daughter’s life.
“Tompkins, like all men, was not exempt from the trials and griefs of this world. He was a firm believer in the Christian religion, but from some unknown cause never united with any church. We must not omit, he was remarkable for his accuracy in describing places and things which he had seen, and relating what he had read or heard.
“Judge Christopher Tompkins died in this place August 9th 1858, at the residence of his son-in-law, Dr. James Hall, who then resided here, aged eighty; greatly esteemed and regretted.
“Four daughters and several grandchildren survived him, none of whom lived in this county. His eldest daughter, Ann, married Dr. Reuben B. Gamett, son of Richard Gamett, Esq., the 22nd of October, 1843. He died at Benton, Mississippi, where he had moved to pursue his
profession, soon after his removal, in 1836, leaving one child, a daughter, Theodosia. He was much respected, and his death was greatly regretted.
“His widow lived many years single, devoting herself to her child and its education. The daughter married an estimable man, Mr. Frank Emory, and they are living in Philadelphia.
Mrs. Gamett, a few years since, married the Rev. Wm. L. Breckinridge, D.D., formerly of Kentucky, and a brother of the late Rev. Robert Breckinridge, D.D. They are now living in
Chicago, Ill.
“Eugenia Tompkins married Wm. Gamett, a son of Richard Garnett. Their eldest son, C. Tompkins Gamett, fell in the late war in the attack upon Vicksburg, fighting nobly and bravely
for the defense of his country; another son, Gwynn, is a leamed and rising lawyer of Chicago.
“Theodosia married Dr. James Hall, a son of Judge Michael W, Hall. She is now a widow, mother of several quite promising children, one C. Tompkins Hall, a Lieutenant in the U.S. Army. She is living in Illinois.
“Davidella married Thomas Crutcher, son of Henry Crutcher. He is dead; four children, also promising, survive him. She is living in Hart County.”

McFaddens, Bartons, Claypools

The following has been posted in Traces a few times, the last times in Volume 26, Issue No. 4. The letter from Noah Barton to writer Wm Daniel Tolle was part of the collection of the late Jimmy Simmons. Two previous articles I have posted, on Lilenthal’s Curse, and Barren River Treasure, go into the same storyline basis, but this is a firsthand account of the history as Barton knew it. It follows thus:

A letter from Noah Barton to Wm Daniel Tolle
Metcalfe County, Ky. May the 8th 1871
Mr. William Daniel Tolle, Glasgow, Ky.

To my dear friend Daniel. I so much enjoyed your letter of the 23d Ultima. Especially interesting to me was your speaking about your Anderson family neighbors. As you know, my sister Sarah married David Anderson and he died some 25 years or so ago, leaving her to raise several minor children. My mother Winneford lived some of her later years at Sarahs. Since you are neighbors of them, it would be tiresome for me to keep on. You asked about my ancestors and location of their birth and what if any kin we were to the Big Barren river Bartons.
Well, Joshua Barton, my grandfather is as far back as I know for certain. He was born the 23d of Jan 1718, I think in the South of Scotland of English parents. If my father ever spoke of his grandparents, I do not remember. Joshua was transported or brought into the Western edge of Penna. along with two brothers and I believe as many cousins for the purpose of clearing the land of Indians for the Quakers to settle on. Where he came from before that, my father did not ever know. My grandfather first married Jane Dubart in Penna, had several children by her, she died on the trail that he made coming out of Penna down through Virginia, into North Carolina where he again met up with an old friend from his early days in Penna namely Daniel Boone. Joshua’s Indentureship was for I believe seven years starting when he was 20 years old, say 1738 and should have ran out about 1745, but I believe he stayed on up there until say 1758 or so. As the first son by my grandmother, Isaac was born in Virginia October 6th, 1760, so I would assume the first wife had died previous say 1758 or 1759 maybe. I believe that they had a son, Benjamin born about 1758 or so. My father knew very little about his older half brothers. My grandmother was Susan Dodd, of the Dodd family that was among the Long hunters early into the depths of this part of Kentucky. James Dodd as you are aware, settled on the Vowles Military Grant somewhat down Beaver Creek.
Uncle Isaac, the first born stopped and set up living in what is now East Tennessee. He was a Baptist Preacher of some note in his area. Of his family, I do not know much of them. They never visited up this way, except once on their way to Winchester where the older Barton brothers lived. We never corresponded betwixt ourselves. Uncle James the next born in Virginia June 20th 1762 settled your Big Barren river country. He married in South Carolina and had a son, James Jr. there, then he and wife came to Kentucky where his mother was living on the Barton homestead with the first set. He and his wife Mary had a total of ten children, six boys and four girls. The eldest son James married here and moved to the west Tennessee area and raised a rather large family. A son Samuel, 3d born of Uncle James was a black smith and went to Missouri early, and raised a family out there I believe near Uncle Jacob. Prior to the death of Uncle James, he had already lost four, Caleb, Clarissa, Elvira and Matilda. Caleb lived in Allen county. Matilda lived in Barren county. Elvira lived in Barren county and Clarrissa lived in Warren county. She had two girls by Maury, but they both married in Warren and lived there. The second son of James was Tillmon. He married Rachel Grooms and lived near his father’s homestead all his life. He never wanted to own much, being satisfied with little. Samuel and I were of the same age. Of the younger one’s I have nothing on them. They all married in Barren county though. Tillmon’s son Caldwell and I keep in touch quite often. He stayed in his area where he was raised, living on the Warehouse road near Concord Church.
The third born was Uncle Jacob August 3d 1766. He was captured by an Indian tribe foraging down through Virginia and pillaging and robbing the settlers of anything. Young children like Jacob would be incorporated in the tribe and adopted by one family for the training of them. Jacob learned the traits well and married a young Indian of prominence in the tribe. Jacob was adopted by an Indian couple by name I believe Wah-E-Tah and his wife who also had been a captured Indian from up on the Wabash, according to uncle Jacob, called Wah-chee-Ta I believe her name was. Uncle Jacob learned well and made many friends while captured, expecting to call on them when the right time approached. Jacob and his adoptive parents grew tired of the ways and planned to escape when the weather was right. Old Wah-E-Tah had been around the McFaddens of the Barren river ferry family while they were working with the Tories during the War but now were changed people. He knew that the McFaddens would help find a place to live if they could only get to them. Their escape I believe was sometime during the change over from Logan county to Warren county and the same year I was born at Uncle Isaac’s in Tennessee.
The McFaddens found them a fertile piece of bottom land on the river that was owned by a Virginia family that was not coming to Kentucky. Uncle Jacob came on up stream and for awhile he lived on the upper reaches of Skaggs creek somewhat half way between his brother James on Trace creek and Abner, my father on Little Barren river. There was much resentment of his wife and children since the area families had suffered greatly at the hands of Indians. Before I forget, the fourth son, Abner my father was born August 28th 1769. He left North Carolina but had to stop off at Uncle Isaacs for my entry into this great world of ours November 14th 1797. We stayed there until father found this place that I live on today. In 1803 I believe we arrived here. Years before Jacob was captured, the capturing tribe had been down through Kentucky, hunting and while there, captured some Indians of the Catawba’s of North Carolina up on a fur trapping trip with Frenchmen from now East Tennessee. One of the men was made their gardner so he took the name of Jacob Gardner. The story goes that he while there married a young tribal girl of the Miami’s either of the capturing tribe or a captive herself, I don’t know which, but they had effected their escape about the time my Uncle Jacob was first taken. The Gardner, with a family already well on the way, returned to his tribal area of North Carolina where he was raised and also where his kin lived but he and family were not accepted too well by his old tribe. They did not like the wife from a tribe that had caused them so much grief. This caused the Gardner to Live as an American and I believe that Uncle Jacob told me once that he served in the Revolution as an American soldier. I tell you this because this man plays an important part in the later life of my Uncle Jacob.
My Grandfather Joshua had made either one or two trips into the depths of Kentucky with Boone earlier and I believe the Gardner was among them once. The purpose of grandfather making the trip was to carve himself out a new homestead up on the river Kentucky for settling later when the Indians became more peaceful. Later on, Boone sent word to Grandfather that he had located Uncle Jacob and passed on his well being to Grandfather, and at the same time got word to Gardner in North Carolina also. I think he was to be a guide or scout since the capturing tribe of Uncle Jacob was the same or nearby the same that had taken Gardner their work Slave. Grandfather immediately made plans to leave for the River Kentucky with a party of several good men, including at least two of his sons, maybe three. I think Uncle James may have been along. Uncle Isaac was busy with his church and my father, I think stayed with Grandmother for her protection. The year was 1790, early on the capturing tribe also made plans for an ambush as it turned out. Boone, Gardner, My grandfather with his sons and maybe two or three more made their way into Kentucky and upon the river they were ambushed, with grandfather and Thomas, a son from the first set were killed. Later on after Uncle Jacob had escaped and was among us he told me that it was his own capturing tribe that had ambushed the party.
This was after I was a somewhat grown boy and could understand their hardships. He was not allowed to go on that ambush but was told of it later. It may have been the McFaddens that carried the news to the tribe for after Uncle Jacob and his adopted family made their escape into the bottoms above McFadden’s their relations were somewhat strained. Uncle Jacob said that there was fear in their hearts over something. The McFaddens as a group soon left everything, their ferry and trading post behind and went up the Wabash for a new start. Uncle Jacob was not allowed to make the raid that killed his father and brother. After Uncle Jacob and family escaped, he and Gardner visited quite often. By this time, Gardner was becoming quite elderly and enjoyed the company of Uncle Jacob as he had learned the Indian traits and habits well. Gardner and Uncle Jacob went into Tennessee once, scouting for some horses that had been stolen. They wanted me to go, but father said that I was too young. The Gardner family consisted of two boys and two girls, the eldest son was indeed a very large man but of an easy quite gait. They had stayed for awhile up on the river Kentucky after my grandfather’s death, but they then moved down into what was then Logan county in the Sinking Creek country. They were, like my uncle Jacob never quite accepted among the later settlers moving in. Jake Gardner and his wife were never satisfied on the creeks. They made many visits down river to see their Indian friends. I think that they maybe visited Uncle Jacob up the far end of Skaggs creek several times. With the daughters both married and in family by then, as was the two boys, the eldest one later moved up in the Knobs of Green river where the neighbors were more sociable, the elder Gardners moved down on the river to be with their friends. They wanted uncle Jacob to also come down there but he did not. Although he knew only they understood their lifestyle. On one of Uncle Jacob’s family visits down river to see his friends, he told me that they were his only true friends and family since the neighbors resented his wife and some of them even resented him for his Indian habits.
On this particular visit he took me along. The old Indian’s wife had just died, along with some others, I think maybe Claypools as they were resented just as Uncle Jacob and the Gardners were, somewhat. As I remember the mound graves were at the river bottom’s edge near the bluff and just below the Claypoole homestead. I’m told that the elder Gardner’s died soon afterward and they too were buried in the mound fashion, close to their friends. A few years previous to this the Claypooles had lived on the Sinking creeks and like some others were resented so much that they too removed down on Big Barren and gathered in a clan there. On this visit I met some of the Gardner grandchildren who were, as Uncle Jacob’s children were, about my own age. They in time all married and had families of their own and then they or their children all moved over into Missouri, along about the time the two sisters and families moved up into the Sangimon river country seeking more friendly neighbors. But Uncle Jacob told me once that the “big Gardner had not much trouble with neighbors due to his size.” He said that “few people would ever pick on him.” Uncle Jacob was by then a somewhat of a family man, having at that time three boys and four girls if my memory serves me right. Uncle Jacob became a very lonely man after losing his two families that truly accepted him for how he lived. For only they could ever really know what he had to endure and to learn to stay alive. It was sometime after my reaching maturity that he and family left for Missouri and a new life. They lived a very long life and raised a large family, I’m told. He and wife never came back at any time and I never did see them again.
Sometime just before the last War some of his grandsons, I was told did come back to the Barren river bottom area of old Wah-E-Tah and prospect for some kind of cave full of treasure that the old Indians spoke of. Nobody ever saw them after that. I would suppose that they returned to Missouri. At about the same year some Indians were reported to have returned to the Sinking Creek area for some kind of reunion. This party apparently upset some neighbors because they were scattered by irate citizenry and left so hurriedly that a couple of babies, I’m told still on cradle boards in hammocks were forgotten and left there. A man by name of Kemble found one and raised the girl as their own. No one ever returned, looking for them.
In the early part of 1814 my father Abner, along with myself and his three brothers paid a visit up to Winchester, Ky to the older set. I would think that it was to determine if any inheritance was forthcoming. I believe grandmother had died previous to then. We never visited them and they not us again. Now the last War and taking sides has, I’m afraid severed our family ties pretty much.
My father Abner Barton raised nine children as you are aware, but since you have already copied them from the family bible it would be tiresome to you. I raised an even dozen children between my two wives, although some of the children did die young. My daughter Martha by the first wife married Joseph Winchester Nunn and he and my son Willis also by the first wife learned the mining, smelting and smithy trade up the upper reaches of a fork of Little Barren river. I think that the ore was lost or played out by the time of the last war.
Well my friend, I’m afraid that you are probably tiring of my rambling on so I must let this be enough said on my family and the friends that they have had. If on one of your Pension trips down in the Big Barren river country you should come upon or come near ray cousin Caldwell Barton, stop in as his door is always open to friends and his kettle stays full for the weary traveller. When you do by chance see him please remember me to him. We do write each other some, And he stays in touch with our Missouri connections through cousin Samuel and I believe maybe some of Uncle Jacob’s kin. I’m told that the smith trade made Samuel very comfortable in living out there. Well friend Daniel, do come up and visit again. I so love to talk to you about the history of our people and the country that our fore father’s settled and left for us to enjoy. And I wish you much and I hope you can put together the history of our country that you are gathering these bits for.
To yours this May 8th 1871. from Noah Barton, Metcalfe county, Ky.

Note: Extracted from the Pioneer Baptists of Kentucky/Tennessee by Cawthorn and Warnell: ISAAC BARTON was the first preacher of the Baptist faith to move into what is now Tennessee and pastor a church. He left North Carolina early after the War and came over the mountains into what is now East Tennessee, but was still North Carolina then. On the 6th of December 1787 in what is now Cocke county, Tenn the Big Pigeon Baptist Church was organized and constituted by Isaac Barton and William Reno. The Indians became troublesome and the people had to move into forts for protection which rendered them incapable of keeping church business regularly.

From the Glasgow Times, died on the 9th day of October in the year 1883, Mrs. Nancy C Barton, wife of Mr. John Barton. She was born in Green county as Nancy C Blakeman on August the 11th, 1827. Interment in the Barton family graveyard near Randolph, Metcalfe COunty. BARTON. A life well spent. Edmonton, Ky. Sept 2, 1884. Editor of the Glasgow Times: •’^A few days ago I was passing the premise of Mr. Noah Barton. The old gentleman was at home and upon my entering the gallery of his… ” (the rest is missing)