Salem, Massachusetts, My Ninth Great-Grandmother and The Original Mean Girls

You never know who you're going to discover when you go ancestor hunting!

A few months ago I was researching my New England ancestors and was astounded, dumbfounded and speechless when I found Sarah Towne Bridges Cloyes, my ninth great-grandmother.

Home of my 9th great-grandmother, Sarah Towne Bridges Cloyes and her 2nd husband Peter Cloyes



I wasn't thrilled or happy when I read her history. You see, Salem, Massachusetts was a scary place to live back in the 1690s. And my 9th great-grandmother was accused and tried of practicing witchcraft during the notorious Salem Witchcraft Trials. Her two sisters, Rebecca Nurse and Mary Esty were tragically accused, tried and hung.  Fortunately, Sarah's (2nd) husband, Peter Cloyes, proved to be loyal and brave. He helped Sarah escape from jail and led her to a safe place, a cave, where they lived until the hysteria was over.



When I discovered Sarah my first thought was, "this would make a great Halloween story for my blog!" I was immediately ashamed of myself. It is so wrong to make light of something so serious and something so scary and to use it for my own benefit. Three hundred years and many generations later, Sarah's 9th great-granddaughter felt her anguish and helplessness at the unfit judicial system that existed during this time.

Deposition against Sarah Towne Bridges Cloyes

There have been many stories written and movies made about the notorious Salem Witchcraft Trials. And there have been many theories about the reason why it all began in the first place. After researching and reading I have decided it was out of ignorance, jealousy, issues within the church and boredom. People are not so different these days. Salem was settled by Puritans, but my research indicates they weren't so pure. There were arguments within the town. Some families had more land, possessions and influence than others and this led to jealousy. And the teenage girls who accused Sarah and many other people of practicing witchcraft were the Original Mean Girls and bored little drama queens. I've always said, "If it's born with an ovary, there's bound to be drama." It was true in the 1690s and it's still true today.

You can find a lot of information about Salem, Massachusetts on the internet.  Because of the witchcraft trials it's become a tourist destination and I intend to visit it one day. Not to "celebrate" the trials, but to honor to my ninth great-grandmother, Sarah. I've read so much about her and her sisters and each time the writers speak of their good character.

From The American Genealogist (pub. 1958), Volume 23 , page 205:
....the three daughters (of William and Joanne Blessing Towne), Rebecca Nurse, Mary Esty and Sarah Cloyes gained a tragic prominence in one of the most unhappy chapters of Salem's history, the witchcraft delusions.  The story has been told many times, but always the nobility of character of the three sisters gains our admiration and respect.

From The Essex (Massachusetts) Genealogist, Volume 23, page 238:
Mary Esty was condemned on September 9, 1692, and it was while she was awaiting execution that she wrote her "humble petition" to Judge William Phipps, the judge and the bench in Salem. It is one of the most touching documents of the year 1692.  She wrote in part, "I petition to your honors not for my own life, for I know I must die and my appointed time is set, but for others, that if it be possible no more innocent blood may be shed." And in fact after the September 22, 1692 hanging of Mary Esty and seven others, there were no more executions for witchcraft in New England.

Eventually, the witchcraft hysteria subsided, but only when the Governor's wife was accused. The Original Mean Girls later apologized for their accusations. How they lived with themselves after causing so much death, pain and hurt is beyond me. So many innocent people lost their lives during this frightening time of early American history.

PBS produced an excellent movie entitled "Three Sovereigns for Sarah" in which Vanessa Redgrave portrays my ninth great-grandmother, Sarah Towne Bridges Cloyes. I would recommend this movie if you are interested in the Salem Witchcraft Trials. I've inserted a clip from the movie and the scene is the hanging of Sarah Good (1st woman) and my 8th grand-aunt, Sarah Cloyes sister, Rebecca Nurse. It's not for the faint-hearted and I actually shed a few tears for this poor soul.



Here's the ancestry line-up:

 

Sarah Towne Bridges Cloyes b.1636 in Yarmouth, England d. 1703 Massachusetts Colony

 



Sarah's daughter: Hannah Bridges Barton b. 1669 d. 1727 Massachusetts Colony

 

Hannah's son: Elisha Barton b. 1701 d. 1776 Massachusetts Colony

 

Elisha's son: David Barton b. 1739 d. 1833 Massachusetts Colony and U.S.A. (Revolutionary War Patriot)

 

David's daughter: Lucina Barton Burchard b.1768 Granby, Massachusetts d.1854 New York 

 

Lucina's son: Horace Burchard b.1801 Massachusetts d.1885 New York 

 

Horace's son: Hamilton Burchard b.1828 New York d.1906 Tennessee

 

Hamilton's son: Henry Franklin Burchard b.1864 Tennessee d.1903 Alabama (coal-mining accident)

 

Henry's  son: Grant Warren Burchard b.1893 d.1939 ( tree limb fell on him 2 weeks after his wife's death) 

 

Grant's son and my Papaw: Thurston Claude Burchard b.1913 d.1984

 

Thurston's daughter and my Sweet Little Momma: Alyne Burchard Parker b. 1934

 

Me-Shelia

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The Governor of Massachusetts, Jane Swift approved a bill that exonerated the accused "witches". This was on Halloween 2001, which seems like a stunt to me, instead of a heartfelt righting of a wrong.
 

Sarah's Family History

The is really a good movie! I checked it out from the local library.

 

Thanks for reading my blog.

Shelia

Where I'm From

Where I'm From

by Shelia Parker Nelson

I am from cast iron skillets, from Hi-Ho crackers, JFG peanut butter and Bessie's unpasteurized, unhomogonized milk.

I am from the hill in the holler, from a tar-papered house that embraced a home.

I am from wild white dogwoods, sweet pink mimosas, orange ditch lilies, and from the fleabane and Queens Anne's lace that lined the sides of a pig-trail road.

I am from a Friday night supper of homemade hamburgers; Sanford & Son on a new color TV set.  I am from Momma 'n Daddy keeping their family together.

I am from Thanksgiving Dinner served at noon.  I am from letting the men fill their plates first.  I am from Lawrence and Alyne, Parkers and Burchards.

I am from my grandparent's front porch.  I am from "come on in and pull up a cheer."

I am from talkers and listeners.

I am from cracklin' AM radio and from scratchy vinyl records.  I am from Mac Wiseman, the Browns singing about Three Bells, Hee Haw, Lawrence Welk and Porter Waggoner.

I am from "don't touch the dog when it's a'lightnin'". I am from "yuns put your bicycles in the cellar, come on in the house and watch Billy Graham."

I am from rarely saying grace, but always giving thanks.

I am from cotton dresses worn to school under a warm coat.

I am from the southern end of Appalachia, from one whose lineage can be traced to the Mayflower, and from one whose roots disappear into the soil of the early 1800s.

I am from "ain't" and "pillers", from "yonder" and "yuns".  I am from East Tennessee twang.

I am from hik'ry switch stripes on my legs.  I am from encouragement and selfless love.  I am from parents who intended to raise me right, no matter what it took.

I am from a Momma who had a good example to follow, and did it right.  I am from a Daddy who didn't have a good example to follow, but did it right anyway.

I am from the foot of an old Appalachian mountain spur.  I am from a sunset that slides to the south of the mountaintop to let me know we're heading towards winter, and creeps north to give my spirit hope that winter will end.

I am from land given to my family as a death settlement in the last century.  I am from people who held onto this land like a bulldog.  I am from daguerreotypes and tintypes, I am from black and white, I am from color, stored in boxes and albums and held in trust by three strong, sweet women.

I am from Appalachia, beginning in New England and ending in Tennessee.

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A few months ago I was searching the internet for all things Appalachia when I discovered Tipper Pressley's blog "Blind Pig and The Acorn".  I love my Appalachian heritage and Tipper's blog has taken me back so many times to a time when the challenges of life could be overcome with common sense, humor, ingenuity, and determination. Her blog is an expression of an Appalachian life of quiet dignity, simplicity and innocent fun.

Tipper posted the "Where I'm From" poem template on her blog and asked her readers to share their own life stories. I will admit to shedding a few bittersweet tears while writing mine.  Life is both sunshine and shadow, my friends, and I hope you will use this template to write your own "Where I'm From" story.

You can find Tipper's blog at   http://www.blindpigandtheacorn.com/  I guarantee you'll enjoy it!

Thank you for reading my blog,

Shelia



 

Jabez Burchard: An American Patriot

Have you ever watched the television programs Who Do You Think You Are? and Finding Your Roots with Dr.Henry Louis Gates? These two programs have inspired me to research my own family history. I've always been curious as to who my ancestors are, where they came from and what reason they had for coming to this great country, my beloved United States of America. When did they come to Tennessee? And did my ancestors stay faithful to Old Glory during the Civil War? Or did they pledge allegiance to the Stars and Bars? Yes, I do come from Southern Appalachian coal miners, farmers, laborers, and Native Americans, but I've also discovered roots in New England and the Eastern Coastal states. With each new discovery I realize I have been born into a very interesting pot of human soup!  

 Since this is Independence Day, the birthday of the United States of America, I'd like to introduce you to my Patriot ancestor Jabez Burchard.  My maternal grandfather's family was featured in a genealogical article in the local newspaper a few years ago, so I took the information from the article and began my search.

Jabez Burchard is my fifth great-grandfather. He was born on May 17, 1765 in Granby, Massachusetts Bay Colony. He married Lucina Barton, born April 2, 1768, also in Granby, Massachusetts Bay Colony. The Burchard and Barton families were well established in the American colonies by the middle of the century. Both families appear on page one of the1790 census, so I imagine Jabez and Lucina probably knew each other all their lives. 

When Jabez was sixteen years old the Revolutionary War was being fought and it was decided that Jabez's father, John Birchard, (who spelled Birchard with an "i") would stay at the family farm in Granby and Jabez would go off to war. Can you imagine sending your sixteen year old boy to war? Jabez military record states: Jabez Burchard (1765-1844) served, 1780 as a private at the age of 16 in Captain Barton's company, Col. Porter's Massachusetts regiment.  I don't have a picture of Jabez, but I did find a picture of a Massachusetts Minuteman.  This is what Jabez might have looked like when he went away to fight for freedom. So, Jabez left with the Continental Army and marched with them to Boston, Massachusetts.

Jabez's commanding officer was David Barton, his long-time neighbor and future father-in-law. Since Jabez and Lucina Barton did indeed marry after the war was over (and had a large family), David Barton becomes my 6th great-grandfather and my second Revolutionary War patriot. David's military service record states: David Barton (1739-1833) was a minuteman from Granby at the Lexington and Bennington Alarms. He served as captain in the Fourth Hampshire county regiment, 1780.



There is another story concerning Jabez's military service that I really like: One day while General George Washington was reviewing the troops, "he noticed at the end of the line a tall, handsome ruddy-faced boy.  Washington asked his orderly who the boy was and he answered he did not know.  Washington said, "Go and tell him to come here.' He [Jabez] left the ranks and went with the officer out onto the commons, where Washington sat on his horse.  The General asked him his age, which he gave; then he asked him why he was in the army, and he told him the condition of the family and the circumstances.  When Washington came in, he told him he wanted just such a boy as he was to bring out and hold his horse and carry his letters and dispatches, and do various odd jobs." Jabez thus became General Washington's orderly, and afterwards fought with his Regiment.

Jabez returned from the war and he and Lucina married on December 27, 1786. I haven't found their church membership records yet, but I do know the Congregational Church in Granby has existed since 1762.  Since Jabez and Lucina come from Puritan ancestry, and Puritans were Congregationalists, it is likely they married in the Granby Congregational church.

Puritans believed in large families. Jabez and Lucina had twelve children. Cynthia, Seneca Barton, Sylvester, Jabez Jr., John, Lucina, Theodore, Seneca II (their first Seneca died as an infant and it was custom in those days to name a sibling after a sibling who had passed away), Roxanna, Horace Seaver, Hannah, and Charles Austin. Most of these children grew up to have children of their own. They also grew up to be college administrators, pastors, preachers, educators, judges, businessmen, and government officials.

In 1810 Jabez and Lucina moved their large family to Steuben (or Madison), Oneida County, New York and settled near his brother-in-law, David Barton, Jr., on land originally granted to Baron von Steuben* by the State of New York. Here, in addition to running his farm, he owned and operated a furnace, a plow factory and a blacksmith shop. Jabez was an entrepreneur!  He was also a member of the Baptist church.

Jabez died on 2 January 1844 at 78 years of age. He is buried in the Madison Street Cemetery and his grave is marked not only with his tombstone, but also with a Daughters of the American Revolution marker to commemorate his service as an American Patriot in the Continental Army. The 1850 census shows that Lucina lived with her daughter and namesake, Lucina (and her husband Ichabod) Miller until her death at the age of 85 on 9 March 1854. She is also buried in the Madison Street Cemetery.



Captain David Barton, Lucina's father and my 6th great-grandfather, died in Granby, Massachusetts at the age of 94. His grave is also marked with a Daughters of the American Revolution marker.

I am proud to be the 5th and 6th generation granddaughter of two American Patriots, Private Jabez Burchard and Captain David Barton.

Since I have no personal diaries of either of these men, I do not know their thoughts or feelings. But I do know that they took great risk in joining the Continental Army. Jabez's and Lucina's children and grandchildren went on to become productive and outstanding citizens. Most of them received higher education, so evidently education was important to them. Jabez was obviously industrious. They attended church. It is my hope that their life together was a happy one.

Here's the ancestry lineup: Jabez b.1765 

                                           +

                                            Horace b. 1801

                                          +

                                             Hamilton b.1826

                                         +

                                          Henry b.1864

                                        +

                                         Grant b.1893

                                        +

                                        Thurston (my Papaw) b.1913

                                      +

                                      My Sweet Little Momma b.1935

                                       +

                                           Me b.1958

 *While writing this post I was curious about General von Steuben. Here's what I discovered:

Baron von Steuben was a Prussian born military officer who served as the inspector general and Major General of the Continental Army during the American Revolutionary War.  He is credited with being one of the fathers of the Continental Army in teaching them military drills, tactics and disciplines.  He wrote the Revolutionary War Drill Manual, the book that served as the standard United States drill manual until the War of 1812.  He served as General George Washington's Chief of Staff during the final years of the Revolutionary War.  

 

Baron von Steuben did not speak much English and traveled with a translator. It is said when disciplining and training his troops he would motion to his translator and yell "Over here! Swear at him for me!"

Happy Independence Day to my Beloved UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!!!

Thank you for reading my blog,

Shelia 



Then and Now, Graham Road

My family has lived in East Tennessee many years. In fact, except for the first couple years of marriage, I have lived on the same road all my life. It's old family property that was given to my maternal great-grandparents, George and Ida Graham, by the McDonald family.

George (Pappy) and Ida (Mommie) had seven children. Ethel, Alice, Lester, Trewhitt, Ruth, Georgia and Granville. Granville worked for the Home Stores, a chain of small markets owned by the McDonald family. He was killed in a work-related accident on December 23, 1933 and Mr. McDonald gave Pappy sixty two acres as a death settlement. Granville was a young man of 25 years and his death hurt his family very much.

My great-grandmother, Ida Emerling Graham standing in front of her home on Graham Road.  

Now the road I live on is called Graham Road, named after my great-grandparents, but over seventy-five years ago, there was just a little wagon trail meandering through the sixty-two acres. No houses, no electric lines, no city water.  Pappy divided sixty acres between his remaining six children and kept two acres for himself.  There was a tiny little house on his two acres and he and Mommie lived there until he built their house. 

Ida Emerling Graham

These pictures were taken sometime in the early 1950s. Pappy died when I was just a baby, so I have no memories of him, but I do have memories of visiting Mommie. I remember Pappy's garden spot and the well, with its windlass, bucket, dipper and fresh cold water.  Behind their home was a grapevine, an outbuilding, and behind the outbuilding was the outhouse. I have about a 5 second memory of staying with Mommie. She was babysitting me and I remember standing on a short stool in her kitchen, watching her throw a piece of wood in her cookstove. After she threw it in she put her arms around me and gently got me off the stool.

George Graham in front of the house he built on Graham Road. The little dirt road that runs alongside the house went to his neighbor's, Lorenzo Newman.

Eventually, all but one of George and Ida's children sold their land. Their youngest daughter, Ruth Graham Burchard, my Mamaw, lived on Graham Road until she went to Heaven six months after my Papaw, in 1985.  The ten acres given to my grandmother was increased as surrounding property became available and now Ruth's daughters, and a few grandchildren and great-grandchildren, live on Graham Road.

Graham Road was a quiet little country road when I was growing up. Hardly any cars passed our house and when one did, we ran to the front window to see who it was! We fell asleep at night listening to the call of whipporwills and awakened to the sound of Bessie, my grandparent's milk cow, mooing in the pasture between our homes.   My brothers and I would play all day, stopping only to drink a glass of KoolAid, or to sit on the porch and read or daydream. I can remember Momma telling us to be quiet, not to holler or talk loud,  when a funeral was taking place in the cemetary nearby.  

Until the early 1980s, Graham Road began at Back Valley Road at it's west end and ended about four miles to the east at State Highway 27. I can remember at least a dozen or more homes scattered on the four miles of curves, steep hills and dark hollows.  Graham Road had grown from a short, rough wagon trail to a four-mile paved road in less than 50 years.  

My great-grandmother Ida finally came to live with her youngest daughter Ruth, my Mamaw. Her old home was sold and my Daddy's brother, my Uncle Buddy,  lived there with his family for a few years.  Again, Pappy's garden spot flourished and the little old house was filled with family and laughter.  

It is said that you can't stop progress. Progress came to Graham Road in the early 1980s in the form of State Highway 111. 

 My great-grandparents property was purchased by the State of Tennessee.  Their homeplace....home, garden spot, outbuilding, outhouse and grapevine.... was torn down, covered with earth and rock, and eventually asphalt.  Thousands of cars and trucks have traveled this road since it was opened over 25 years ago.

 I took these pictures standing on the off ramp of Highway 111, where my great-grandparent's house, garden spot, outbuilding, outhouse and grapevine used to be.   

Same place, different time.

Graham Road was rerouted during the construction of Highway 111. No longer does it lead from Back Valley Road to Highway 27. It's only a little over a mile long now. 

There have been a lot of changes in the past 78 years. Looking at these pictures, it's hard to believe it's the same place. I miss the quietness of the old Graham Road. The whipporwills left a long time ago and now if we ran to the front window every time a car passed, we'd be running to the window all day. Who would have ever thought that a mile long road, that ends at a deadend, would be so busy? 

I have chosen a few more pictures from my Momma's picture box that I'll be posting in the next few weeks. I hope to do more Then and Now pictures, so I hope you'll come back to visit with me.    

Shelia