Oral History Interview

I FOUND THE CASSETTE TAPE! On April 8, 2005, I drove to Memphis, TN to capture my late Cousin Robert Danner’s family recollections on tape. This was for an assignment for one of my graduate classes while pursuing my Master of Arts degree in African-American Studies from Clark Atlanta Univ.  The day of this interview was Cousin Robert’s 99th birthday.  Shortly after moving to Memphis in Nov. 1996, I developed a close relationship with him. Born on April 8, 1906 near Como, Mississippi, he was my maternal grandmother’s first cousin and my great-grandmother Mary Danner Davis’ nephew.  He became like a grandfather to me; he shared so much with me about our family history.  In fact, Mississippi to Africa: A Journey of Discovery would not have been possible if it wasn’t for his clear mind and vivid recollections.  I often brag that Cousin Robert was a “Walking History Book,” and now you can hear why.

This interview is presented here in 5 short clips with a synopsis of what he had shared with me many times during the 11 years I was blessed to have him in my life.  Really, this is just a small portion of all the knowledge he poured onto me.  Cousin Robert Danner joined the ancestors three years after this interview on April 9, 2008, at the age of 102. I am thrilled to be able to share his voice, his kind spirit, and his wonderful recollections with family members and the world. Two thumbs up for technology!

Cousin Robert Danner with his longtime companion/”girlfriend,” Ruthie Mae Byers (left), and our cousin, Orien Reid Nix (right), taken in 1998, Memphis, TN

AUDIO CLIP 1 (7:40): Cousin Robert shares his memory of his grandmother, Louisa “Lue” Bobo Danner (1842-1921) of Panola County (Como), MS (my great-great-grandmother), and why he and his baby sister were afraid of her when they were small children.  He also shares how Grandma Lue got her land (100 acres).

Louisa “Lue” Bobo Danner (1842-1921)

AUDIO CLIP 2 (8:00): Cousin Robert talks about how his father, Uncle Alfred Danner, quit school to work after his father Edward “Ed” Danner had passed away on Sept. 15, 1876.  Ed Danner was only 42 years old. He shared more recollections of his grandmother, Lue.  He recalls her white half-brother, Sandy Wilbourn. In this interview, he said Sandy was her “Daddy” in error but in previous conversations, he confirmed that Sandy was her brother.  He also recalls what his grandmother Lue had told him about how they had church during slavery. He shares about how he and his family lived on Dr. Archie Yarbrough’s farm near Como. Lastly, he talked about how his church, Mt. Moriah C.M.E.Church (Como), began shortly after slavery.

Cousin Robert’s father, Alfred Danner (1863-1961), sitting with his sister, Laura Danner Reid (1871-1955)

AUDIO CLIP 3 (8:00): Cousin Robert continues talking about the history of Mt. Moriah Church and how it was built shortly after slavery by his grandfather Ed, the Pratchers, etc. He discusses the injustice of sharecropping. He recalls the elders he remembered during his childhood, and how his grandmother’s sisters would visit her and they had “church” out in the road. He shares how his grandmother Lue would be shouting as she walked to church (Mt. Moriah).

Mt. Moriah C.M.E. Church near Como, MS. The red arrow points to the spot where Cousin Robert showed me where Grandma Lue Danner was buried on July 6, 1921.

AUDIO CLIP 4 (4:14):  Cousin Robert confirms that his father, Alfred Danner, was born into slavery. He describes his grandmother Lue’s house. He talks about his Aunt Martha’s son, Isaac Gray (who changed his last name to Hockenhull after his stepfather, his mother’s 2nd husband.). Cousin Isaac Hockenhull married the great gospel singer, Mahalia Jackson. Remarkably, he shares accounts of what his father told him about how he raised money to pay the lawyer so that Grandma Lue could get a widow’s pension from the federal government.  Her husband Edward Danner (my great-great-grandfather) fought with the 59th Regiment of the United States Colored Troops (USCT) during the Civil War.  Cousin Robert shares how he heard that black soldiers fought in the War with sticks.

1880 Panola County, MS Census showing Cousin Robert’s father, Alfred Danner, in his mother’s household. His reported age was 18. My great-grandmother was Mary.

AUDIO CLIP 5:  Cousin Robert discusses how a white store-owner in Como, named Charlie Chambers, surprisingly revealed to him that his wife, Mrs. Maggie “A.T.” Wilbourn Chambers, was a first cousin to his father, Alfred.  He recalls a story of how his father Alfred had to borrow money from a white merchant in Como.  He also discusses how his father had a philosophy of a person being a “Man of his Word”. 

Cousin Robert celebrating his 100th Birthday, Memphis, TN

1910 Panola County, MS Census showing Cousin Robert Danner in his father’s household, 4 years old

Cousin Robert’s grandfather’s name is on the African-American Civil War Memorial in Washington, DC. After the Civil War, Ed changed his name back to Danner.

How Oral History Can Get Misconstrued

 

      I remember when I was in junior high school, and our class played a game to show how a story can change as it is being relayed by many people.  I don’t remember the example story we used in class, but imagine the following:  Person no. 1 relays the following to person no. 2, “Mary Jones got married to Robert Williams in Huntsville, Alabama, and they soon moved to Atlanta, Georgia, where they had three children, Bob Jr., Sallie, and Katie Mae.”  Each person relayed what he/she is told to another person.  By the time the story reaches person no. 8, it has become, “Katie Mae Williams married Bob Jones in Atlanta, Georgia, and they moved to Mobile, Alabama, where they had three children, Bob Jr., Sallie Mae, and Callie.”  This simple exercise demonstrates how a lot of the oral history we hear is often not entirely true.  The operative adverb is “entirely” because there might be several parts of the story that are partially true.  In the example, the only true parts that person no. 8 hears are the first name of the husband (Robert/Bob) and the states where they lived (Alabama and Georgia) but in the wrong order.   

     When I was in high school, my grandmother told me some things about her paternal grandfather, Robert “Big Bob” Ealy of Leake County, Mississippi.  She shared how his slave master used him as a breeder, and he fathered a whole lot of children by many enslaved women.  He never laid eyes on those children.  However, he and his wife, Grandma Jane Ealy, had at least 13 children, whom he was able to raise to adulthood.  I was no more than 15 years old when Grandma relayed this story to me, and it took me awhile to fully grasp what she was telling me.  Then, as I talked to more family elders about our history, they shared that my great-great-grandfather was purchased and transported to Mississippi from Macon, Georgia by his mean slave master, who was known as “Masser Billy”.  This oral history had also been printed in some of the family’s early reunion booklets.  So for awhile, I had a mental picture of Grandpa Big Bob being placed on an auction block in Macon, Georgia, and “Masser Billy” was the highest bidder who purchased him and brought him to Leake County, where he was used as a breeder.

     Well, in 1993, my search began at the Mississippi Department of Archives and History in Jackson.  By this time, Grandma had been deceased for nearly three years, but I still heard her voice in my head relaying some things about Grandpa Big Bob.  Indeed, I found him and Grandma Jane in the 1870 and 1880 Leake County, Mississippi censuses.  But I was surprised to see what state was reported as his birthplace.  See here for yourself what was reported in 1870:

 Now look what was reported in the 1880 Leake County, Mississippi census:

Now look what was reported in the 1900 Scott County, Mississippi census.  Grandpa Big Bob, reported age of 86, was living in nearby Scott County with his oldest daughter, Mrs. Adeline Ealy Orman.

      Even in the 1900 census, North Carolina was also reported as the birthplace of Grandpa Big Bob’s father and mother.  Interestingly, Virginia was consistently reported as Grandma Jane’s birthplace in 1870 and in 1880, so this recollection about Macon, Georgia did not initially appear to be about her.  I soon figured out that “Masser Billy” was William W. Eley, who lived in the neighborhood of Grandpa Big Bob in 1870 and was the only white Eley in Leake County and the obvious last slave-owner.  Billy was a nickname for William.  To add, further research findings have concluded that Grandpa Big Bob was first enslaved by Jesse Bass of Nash County, North Carolina.  When he died in 1822, his youngest daughter, Frances Bass, inherited Grandpa Big Bob and a slave named John.  Frances soon married William W. Eley, and they moved to Mississippi around 1837, bringing Grandpa Big Bob, John, and several others with them.  Again, why on earth did my family elders think that Grandpa Big Bob had come from Macon, Georgia?  I was bewildered.

     A possible explanation soon came to the horizon when I noticed what was reported as the mother’s birthplace of Paul Ealy in the 1910 Leake County census.  Paul was my grandmother’s father and one of Grandpa Big Bob’s sons.

      Someone reported that Paul Ealy’s mother (Grandma Jane) was born in Georgia.  Maybe the reference to Macon, Georgia was actually about her history??  But, the state of Virginia was consistently reported as her birthplace in 1870 and 1880.  Additionally, Uncle Robert Ealy Jr’s death certificate revealed that her maiden name was considered to be Parrott, which led me to figure out that she and her children by Grandpa Big Bob were last enslaved by William Parrott, who was originally from Lunenburg County, Virginia.  He had moved to Leake County, Mississippi around 1840.  William “Billy” Eley and William Parrott were neighbors.  Therefore, Virginia appeared to be Grandma Jane’s correct birth state.  Still, I felt there had to be a reason why Macon, Georgia had been part of my family’s oral history.  I just didn’t feel that it was thrown in the story to make it sound more sensational.  Besides, in Mississippi, the small city of Macon was probably not as well-known as Atlanta, Georgia or Savannah, Georgia. 

     Nevertheless, a light bulb began to go off when Norma Money, a direct descendant of William Parrott, shared info with me about his family that was researched by Dr. Mavis Parrott Kelsey of Houston, Texas.  To sum it up, here goes (pay close attention):

·         (1) William Parrott was born around 1789 in Rockingham County, North Carolina.  He has his wife, Betsy Johnson, had lived on a 300-acre plantation in Lunenburg County, Virginia.

·         (2) William’s father was Abner Parrott. His mother was Mrs. Elizabeth Parrott Sr., who moved to Greene County, Georgia, but died in Overton County, Tennessee where her son Benjamin lived.

·         (3) William had two sisters, Micah and Elizabeth Jr., who also moved to Georgia; Micah died in Monroe County, Georgia and Elizabeth Jr. had settled in Greene County, Georgia.  Monroe County is just north of Macon, Georgia, around 10 miles to the northwest.  Hmmmmm……

·         (4) MOST INTERESTING: There’s a lawsuit dated 1839, in which the executor of Benjamin Parrott’s estate (William’s brother) sued another brother, Riland Parrott, for part of the $1200 proceeds from the sale of a valuable slave named Jerry, a blacksmith, claiming that the proceeds from the sale belonged to the six heirs of their mother, Elizabeth Sr.  According to Dr. Kelsey, the court proceedings mentioned that a group of forty negroes in Georgia were entailed to the heirs of Elizabeth Parrott Sr. (William’s mother), but there was little likelihood of gaining title to them.

     There is little doubt in my mind that the reference to Macon, Georgia in my family’s oral history actually pertained to happenings in Grandma Jane’s history, not Grandpa Big Bob.  Although she was born in Virginia around 1829, perhaps when William Parrott left Virginia, he went to near Macon, Georgia first, perhaps Monroe County where his sister Micah lived, and stayed there for a few years in the 1830's before making Mississippi his final home by 1840.  Perhaps Grandma Jane relayed stories about her time in Georgia before William brought her and others to Mississippi.  Or perhaps she relayed to her family that some of her people were living near Macon, Georgia during and after slavery.  William Parrott was in the 1820 and 1830 Lunenburg County, VA censuses, and then he shows up in the 1840 Leake County, MS census.  However, this does not mean that he never went to Georgia.  I truly believe he did, and Grandma Jane probably remembered being in Georgia for a few years, but I have more work to do to prove my speculations.  Stay tuned!

     MORAL OF THE STORY:  Oral history has to be taken with a grain of salt until proven with documentation.  Once proven, one may often find that some parts of the story are inaccurate, yet there may be some parts that are true but misconstrued.

Grandma Was Right!

My father and my Grandma, Willie Ealy Collier

Taken in 1941, Lena, Mississippi

       Growing up, I was very fortunate to have a very close relationship with my Dad’s parents, George C. Collier & Willie Ealy Collier.  My childhood days were filled with fishing trips with them and driving them to church, to family and church functions in Leake County, Mississippi, to grocery and retail stores in Canton, Jackson, and Carthage to shop, and I even spent numerous days at their house just "chillin" or working in their garden with them.  Although they lived within the town of Canton, Grandma and Granddaddy still maintained a very large garden in their back yard – an extension of their rural upbringing.  I would not take a billion dollars for the close bond I had with them; that special bond helped to shape who I am today.  During the eighteen years I was blessed to have them in my life, Grandma would often observe me and would say to me, “Buster, you sure do have plenty of my blood in you.”    

       One may say, “Of course you do. She was your grandmother. That’s like one-fourth (25%) of your DNA.”  But, Grandma was not my biological grandmother – she and Granddaddy were Dad’s adoptive parents.  It was not a secret.  I have always known this every since I can remember.  The tall (6’3”), slender, and caring man who was biologically responsible for my father’s existence was Grandma’s double first cousin, Hulen Kennedy.  Everyone mostly called him “Newt”.  He was also responsible for making sure that my father was raised in Leake County among his side of the family and in a loving and stable household that contained two school teachers – my wonderful grandparents.  “Newt” Kennedy was adamant that no child of his would be raised in the Mississippi Delta, a place he considered “neo-slavery,” so to speak.  Grandma would often explain her “double kinship” to him by saying something like “brothers and sisters married brothers and sisters.”  As a young teenager, this didn’t sound quite right to me. Almost sounded kind of incestuous, but it was not.  Nevertheless, I didn’t ask her to go into details to explain what she meant.  I was more interested in going outside and riding my red Honda Elite motor scooter that she and Granddaddy purchased for my 15th birthday. Yes, they spoiled me. LOL

 Willie Ealy Collier (1904 - 1990) and Hulen "Newt" Kennedy (1888 - 1970)

Double First Cousins

       Born in 1888 near Lena in Leake County, Hulen “Newt” Kennedy was the fourth of five children born to Albert Kennedy and Martha (Sissie) Ealy Kennedy.  I vividly recall Grandma relaying to me how her father’s sister (Hulen's mother) was blown away in a storm – I’m assuming a tornado – that struck southern Leake County, Mississippi when her five kids (Dora, William, Robert, Hulen, and Wilson) were rather young.  This happened around 1895.  She never called her aunt’s name because this tragic event occurred before she was born.  Still, that “double kinship” between her and Hulen didn’t become very clear to me until I started researching my family history two and a half years after Grandma had passed away.  It didn’t take long to figure out why she would say “brothers and sisters married brothers and sisters.”  To better understand this, here’s a diagram: 

 

       However, finding the marriage records for these three “siblings marriages” made Grandma’s statement very clear.  Indeed, siblings had married siblings.  Also, my grandfather Hulen’s 1940 social security application, one of many genealogical sources to learn the names of parents, also revealed his parents’ names. You can click here to access the Social Security Death Index. 

 Hulen Kennedy's Social Security application, Nov. 4, 1940

        On Sunday night, March 26, 2012, over 20 years later, this double kinship was confirmed by DNA analysis that was conducted by 23andMe.  Three weeks prior, a new male relative appeared in my Relative Finder database, and our predicted relationship was second cousins. I was excited. This was close kin!  Who could this person be?  Names are not shown until an invitation to connect is approved, so I immediately sent an introduction in order to find out this male relative's identity and to determine how we could be second cousins.  After three weeks of anxiously waiting, he finally accepted my invitation that Sunday night, and his name became visible.  I was lucky because many people have reported that their invitations are not being answered.  He was Lenro Morgan of Seattle, Washington. Although Lenro and I have never met in person, I knew exactly who he was and how we're related.  We had been Facebook friends for several months, but I didn't know that he had also taken 23andMe's DNA test.  Lenro is the grandson of Bobbie Ann Ealy Morgan, the daughter of couple no. 3 in the diagram above – Robert Ealy Jr. & Mattie Kennedy.  Bobbie Ann, Grandma, and my grandfather Hulen were all double first cousins; therefore, we were actually double third cousins, not second cousins. 

       Geneticists have calculated that third cousins share an average of 0.781% DNA.  Click here to see a complete DNA sharing chart. Therefore, the average for double third cousins will then be 1.562%.  23andMe determined that Lenro and I share 2.07% DNA across 7 chromosome segments (155 cM), which is greater than the average and enough to be classified as second cousins.  When I compared our numbers to the average and saw how much DNA that we share, I could hear Grandma’s words loud and clear, “You have plenty of my blood in you.”  Grandma was right!

(Update: My father's DNA results are in, and he and Lenro share 3.68% across 14 segments [274 cM]. My father also shares 2.30% across 6 segments [171 cM] with Violet Jones, the great-granddaughter of couple no. 1 in the diagram above - Paul Ealy and Adaline Kennedy.)

 Couple no. 1 – Paul Ealy & Adaline Kennedy Ealy (Grandma's parents)
Paul's picture was shared by Lynda Rowe-Campbell. Adaline's picture was shared by Helen Crump.

 Couple no. 2 – Albert Kennedy & Martha (Sissie) Ealy Kennedy (Hulen's parents)

Couple no. 3 - Robert Ealy Jr. & Mattie Kennedy Ealy (Bobbie Ann's parents)

Click HERE to read the full history of the Ealy Family of Leake County, Mississippi.

Name Discrepancies Can Often Lead to More

This revised research article, originally entitled Name Discrepancy Unlocks Ancestral Doors, was written on 01/03/2011. I am transferring it to my blog because it chronicles how the name of the previous enslaver of a female ancestor was identified. This article expounds on research methodologies that others can employ to trace a formerly enslaved female ancestor who lived passed 1870.

 John Hector Davis

1870 – 1932

(My great-grandfather, who was the grandson of Grandma Peggy Milam, Como, Mississippi)

     Since I was 19 years old, when I first walked into the Mississippi Department of Archives and History (MDAH) in Jackson, I've always felt that my ancestors had this peculiar hold on me. I have always sensed that they wanted their names to be called.  An African proverb states, "As long as you are remembered, you never die."  My ancestors wanted to live again by having their names spoken and the stories of their lives uncovered in order to make me a stronger person, as well as their descendants, giving me a sense of who I am and the powerful knowledge of whose blood flows through my veins.  Nearly two decades later, that "hold" is still very strong today, and it won't let go.  Frankly, I don't want it to go.  While I was home in Mississippi for the holidays, that "hold" coerced me to get out of bed and head down to the MDAH. I had not planned to visit the Archives before I went back to Atlanta. However, my ancestors had other plans. They had something in store for me.

     When I started researching my maternal grandmother's family back in 1993, while I was in college, I was fortunate to have a number of elder family members alive who happily clarified and corroborated information I was unearthing in a plethora of records. They also provided valuable clues.  Oral history is extremely valuable.  With relative ease, I was able to trace back to my grandmother's paternal and maternal grandparents -- my great-great-grandparents. I was even able to go back to my great-great-great-grandparents.  One was Margaret "Peggy" Milam. 

     Grandma Peggy was found in the 1870 and 1880 censuses living near my Mom's hometown of Senatobia, Mississippi (present-day Tate County).  In 1870, her age was reported as 35; ten years later in 1880, her age was reported as 54.  Age discrepancies were common since many enslaved African Americans did not know their birth dates due to the unjustly laws of the land. Grandma Peggy had to have been older than 35 in 1870, since my great-great-grandmother "Mama Lucy," her oldest daughter, was around 24 years old that year.  Nevertheless, I had placed Grandma Peggy's time of birth as sometime between 1826 - 1830. She was born somewhere in Tennessee and ended up in northern Mississippi by 1846. 

     Although my elders did not remember Grandma Peggy, they knew that her daughter, "Mama Lucy," had "come off the old Milam place" in Tate County. Further research revealed that the "old Milam place" was the farm of Joseph Randolph Milam, who had settled in northern Mississippi from Madison County, Alabama around 1835.  Fortunately, his family history was included in a book I found at the MDAH entitled The Heritage of Tate County, Mississippi, published by the Tate County Genealogical & Historical Society in 1991.  By 1860, Joseph amassed many acres of land and 30 enslaved African Americans, according to the 1860 DeSoto County slave schedule (Tate County was part of DeSoto County prior to 1873).  "Mama Lucy," her father Grandpa Wade, her mother Grandma Peggy, and her younger siblings were among that number.

     One of many records that had been instrumental in tracing back another generation was death certificates.  Death certificates provide the father's name, the mother's maiden name, birthplaces, and other great information.  I had decided that I wanted to know more about Grandma Peggy's origins. Where in Tennessee did she come from?  Under what circumstances during slavery were she brought down to northern Mississippi?  Was she separated from her own parents and siblings?  Who were they?  The questions were mounting, and I wanted answers.  I'd deduced that if I'm able to figure out what her maiden name was considered to be, then it may open up doors.  Luckily, I located three of her children's death certificates.  All of them reported something differently. It left me bewildered. 

Death Certificate No. 1

Her son, Hugh Lewers, who died in Memphis, Tennessee in 1938

Name of Father: George Lewers

Maiden Name of Mother: MARGARET WARREN

Death Certificate No. 2

Her son, Will Milam, who died in Tate County, Mississippi in 1950

Name of Father: Wade Milam

Maiden Name of Mother: MARGARET BRISCOE

Death Certificate No. 3

Her daughter, Lucy Milam Davis (my great-great-grandmother), who died in Tate County, Mississippi in 1927

 Name of Father: Wade Milam

Maiden Name of Mother: NOT GIVEN

     One death certificate reported that Grandma Peggy's maiden name was WARREN.  The second one reported that her maiden name was BRISCOE.  The third one did not report her maiden name.  Apparently, my great-grandfather's brother, Uncle Tom Davis, did not know his grandmother's maiden name.  Interestingly, a fourth death certificate was found, and it was of Grandma Peggy's son, Hence Milam, who died in Memphis, Tennessee in 1937.  The father's name was reported as Wade Milam, and the mother's maiden name was reported as "Peggie ------".  Like Uncle Tom Davis, Hence Milam's son did not know Grandma Peggy's maiden name.

     Why did one person think that Grandma Peggy's maiden name was Warren, and why did another person think that her maiden name was Briscoe?  I strongly felt that there had to be a reason why those two surnames were recalled by Margaret Quick (Uncle Hugh Lewers' daughter) and Ruthine Milam (Uncle Will Milam's wife).  How on earth would I be able to piece together this difficult puzzle?

     I decided to look for any slave-owners in Tate and Panola County with the Warren and Briscoe surnames. None were found.  Since the "old Milam place" was just eight miles from the Marshall County line, I researched the censuses for that county and discovered that there were white Warrens and white Briscoes there.  Even more interesting, the white Briscoes that lived there were Notley Warren Briscoe and his brother, James Warren Briscoe.  The Briscoe brothers had settled in Marshall County around 1840 from Maury County, Tennessee.  This was indeed an eye-opener, as Grandma Peggy was born in Tennessee circa 1826 - 1830.  Perhaps, they brought Grandma Peggy down to Mississippi with them?  Also, other research findings revealed that Joseph R. Milam conducted a lot of business in Marshall County, where his parents and brothers resided.  Perhaps, he went to Marshall County to acquire slaves for his Tate County farm?   Did he purchase Grandma Peggy from one of the Briscoe brothers?  That possibility seemed very real, considering the Warren and Briscoe name confusion.  Again, I asked the question -- How on earth would I be able to piece together this difficult puzzle?

     The aforementioned research discoveries were all uncovered prior to 2003.  Now, seven years had passed, and I hadn't attempted to find the missing pieces of the family history puzzle.  I had placed it on the back-burner, and my ancestors were not happy.  On the morning of Thursday, December 30, 2010, at my parents' home in Canton, I awoke to the sound of my nephew Jordan talking on the telephone with his buddy, Josiah.  As I comfortably laid in the bed thinking about my plans for the day, I got this sudden urge to visit the MDAH to conduct some research.  Grandma Peggy's mystery popped in my mind.  She was nudging at me, so I decided to answer her call.  I suddenly got dressed and made the 30-minute drive down Interstate 55 to Jackson.  My goal was to research the microfilmed deed records (bills of sale, deeds of gift, deeds of trust, etc.) for Marshall County.

     Many people who research their histories know exactly what I mean when I say that an ancestor was "nudging at me."  We can't explain the feeling in specific details.  Just take our word for it.  Well, Grandma Peggy's nudge yielded an amazing find in the Marshall County deed records.  On August 14, 1839, Edward Warren, Jr. deeded six slaves to his second cousin, James Warren Briscoe.  It was apparent from the deed that Edward had accumulated a lot of debt, and his property (slaves) were his means of settling some of his debt.  Edward had recently settled in Marshall County from the Tennessee hills of Williamson County, bringing his slaves with him.  The deed states the following:

. . . the party of the first part (Edward Warren) do hereby bargain sell and confirm to the party of the second part (James W. Briscoe) all the following described property to wit: six negroes viz; Adam aged about 55 years, Sarah aged about 40 years, Sam aged about 14 years, MARGARET aged about 10 years, Calidonia aged about 8 years, Random aged about 23 years and one half of the growing crop of cotton in cultivation by the party of the first party, also three heads of horses, 6 head of cattle, fifty head of sheep, 46 hogs, also all one bureau with all the household and kitchen furniture to have and to hold all the before mentioned property . . .

     I was not able to locate the slave purchase transaction between Joseph R. Milam and James W. Briscoe, but Grandma Peggy (Margaret) was enslaved on Joseph Milam's farm by 1846, the year she gave birth to my great-great-grandmother "Mama Lucy," who was fathered by another Milam slave, Wade.  That document would be crucial to this research.  However, what also caught my eye about this finding was the naming pattern.  The six slaves named in the deed most likely represents a family, and Edward Warren's probate record (he died three years later in 1842) verified that Adam and Sarah were indeed husband and wife.  Sam, Margaret, Calidonia, and Random were most probably their children.  Remarkably, Grandma Peggy left behind clues by naming one of her daughters "Sarah" (Sarah Milam Mabry), and the unique name "Caledonia" was given to at least two of her granddaughters.  As I sat and gazed at the Warren-Briscoe deed, reality sunk in -- I had finally solved the mystery!  Grandma Peggy was pleased.

Ain't Gonna Take Massa's Name

This revised research article, originally entitled "Playing the Name Game: African-American Genealogical Research In Motion," was written on 2/27/2011. I have transferred it to my blog.

 

My great-great-grandparents

Hector Davis (1842-1925) & Lucy Milam Davis (1846-1927)

Panola County (Como), Mississippi

Introduction

     When Africans were forcibly taken from Africa and transported to the Americas, their freedom was not only eradicated, but they were systematically stripped of their African heritages. English colonies developed a series of laws to define chattel slavery in America, which included the outlawing of African religious rituals, the banning of the use of drums, and the barring of African languages. The children of Africa entered the New World with names that represented their family heritage in their homeland. However, the vast majority of those names were replaced with European names forced upon them by slave traders. Only a very small percentage of enslaved Africans were able to retain African names. The enforcement of the use of those European names was depicted in the 1977-movie, Roots. In a tearful scene, Kunte Kinte was brutally whipped for refusing to take his given name, Toby. As Africans acclimated to the abhorrent life situations that were forced upon them by American chattel slavery, they and the successive generations began to establish their identity in the New World by adopting surnames, especially after the Civil War.

     One of the most common and often erroneous presumptions is that when enslaved African Americans were emancipated during and after the Civil War, a vast majority retained the surnames of their last enslavers. Many freed African Americans not only chose different surnames after slavery, but many had surnames on farms and plantations that were concealed from most slave-owners. In The Black Family in Slavery and Freedom, 1750-1925, historian Herbert Gutman quoted the following from the 1865 diary of Eliza Frances Andrews, a slave-owner’s daughter in Georgia:

“I notice that the negroes seldom or never take the names of the present owners in adopting their ‘entitles’ as they call their own surnames, but always that of some former master, and they go back as far as possible.” (pg. 256)

     I researched the slave narratives of Mississippi to test Eliza Andrews' observation. My research findings appear to corroborate her claim to a degree.  Eighty-one African-American men from Mississippi were interviewed with only two of the interviewees not disclosing the name of their last enslaver. Of the 79 men who disclosed their last enslavers’ full or last names, 57% of them did not take their surnames.  These are the results of my findings:

            MISSISSIPPI

            Surname Pattern                                    Number             Percentage

            Same surname as last enslaver                35                      43%

            Different surname from last enslaver          44                      57%

            Total number of interviews                         79

     In a similar study, Gutman investigated the slave narratives for the states of South Carolina and Texas. He found from those narratives that former slaves from those two states or their parents had often either retained or chosen surnames different from their last enslavers’. From the interviews of 181 African Americans in South Carolina, nearly three out of four had different surnames. In Texas, two out of three African Americans who were interviewed chose different surnames.  These were Gutman's results:

SOUTH CAROLINA

            Surname Pattern                                    Number             Percentage

            Same surname as last enslaver                 49                       27%

            Different surname from last enslaver          132                      73%

            Total number of interviews                         181

TEXAS

            Surname Pattern                                    Number             Percentage

            Same surname as last enslaver                 74                        34%

            Different surname from last enslaver          143                       66%

            Total number of interviews                         217

Taking A Different Surname

     In my research over the years, I found that a number of my ancestors did not retain their last slave-owners' surnames.  Here's how I stumbled on that fact for one of my ancestors, Hector Davis.

     I've spent a lot of days at the Mississippi Department of Archives & History (MDAH) in Jackson turning miles of microfilm. The night before one of those visits, I listed several things I wanted to research. After spending several hours at the MDAH the next morning, I had completed my research list. Some information I was able to find and some I didn't. However, before I got up to head home to enjoy the rest of the day, another "nudge" from the ancestors coerced me to stay put and take a look at the DeSoto County, Mississippi marriage records of the early Black marriages (1866-188?).  I'd researched that microfilm several months before in search of a marriage record for my great-great-grandparents, Hector & Lucy Davis. The 1900 Panola County, Mississippi census reports that they had been married 34 years that year, so I was hoping to locate their marriage certificate. Unfortunately, I couldn't.

     Although this was not on my research agenda, I retrieved the microfilm again, placed it on the microfilm reader, and started to browse through the marriage records again. This time, I noticed that I had missed the bride's index. Before, I had only browsed the groom's index without any success and didn't notice that there was a bride's index. Well, minutes later, I came upon a name - Lucy Milam. I knew my great-great-grandmother's maiden name was Milam, so I quickly got excited. I then turned to the page the marriage certificate was on and found the following:  Hector BURNETT to Lucy Milam, July 3, 1866.

     I became elated and bewildered at the same time.  I said to myself, "His name is Hector Davis not Hector Burnett! Where in the world did this Burnett name come from? Somebody made a huge mistake!" I sat there for a while staring at the marriage certificate, wondering why Grandpa Hector's name had been recorded as Burnett. Amazingly, the next certificate was of Huldah Burnett (Hector's sister) marrying Spencer Milam (Lucy's cousin, I believe). The two Burnett/Milam couples had married on the same day. Interesting!

     After finding those marriage records, I just couldn't leave there without taking a look at the 1870 & 1880 DeSoto (Tate) and Panola County censuses again to see if I could find any persons with the last name Burnett, a name I had never heard of in my family history from my family elders.  I had to research both counties because my ancestors lived less than a mile from the Tate-Panola County line. Tate County was part of DeSoto County prior to 1873.  To my surprise, I found Grandpa Hector's brother, Jack Davis Jr., in the 1870 DeSoto County census, and his name was reported as Jack Burnett!  See image:

     I could never find Uncle Jack prior to 1880 because I had been looking for a "Jack Davis."  By 1870, Grandpa Hector and their parents, Jack Sr. & Flora, had already changed their names to Davis, but Uncle Jack was still reported as Burnett.  However, by the time the 1880 census was taken, all of the family had changed over to Davis.  When I found Uncle Jack and his family in the 1870 census, guess who lived near him?

     You guessed it - a white Burnett.  An elderly lady named Anna Burnett, age 74, was in the same area in 1870.  Just like Grandpa Hector Davis, his parents, and his siblings, Anna Burnett had also come from South Carolina. Hmmmm....  I wasn't going to leave the MDAH until I started researching for the answers to following questions:

     (1) Who was Anna Burnett's husband and when did he die?

     (2) Were they indeed the last enslavers of Grandpa Hector, his parents, and siblings?

     (3) Where in South Carolina did they come from? Census analysis revealed that my Davis ancestors arrived in northern Mississippi from South Carolina around 1861, probably shortly before the Civil War began. Did the Burnetts bring them to Mississippi?

     (4) Why did my ancestors change their surname to Davis?

Tackling the Questions

(1) Who was Anna Burnett's husband and when did he die?

     I found a book at the MDAH entitled Cemeteries of Panola County, Mississippi, published by the Panola Historical Society in 1994.  Their members had visited numerous cemeteries throughout Panola County, transcribed names and dates from tombstones, and published this information in a book.  God bless them!  In it, I found the following:

BURNETT, John 1/7/1795 - 10/23/1862

BURNETTE, Anna, wife of John, 11/7/1797 - 9/7/1878

(Special notation: Anna's stone has an "e", John does not.)

(2) Were John & Anna Burnett the last enslavers of Grandpa Hector Davis and his family?

     Thankfully, John Burnett had died in 1862 - before slavery had ended in 1865.  He had died around a year after they migrated to Mississippi.  Therefore, if there's a will and/or probate records for him, it may include the names of any slaves he had owned since slaves were considered property -- very valuable property.  Instead of going to work one Wednesday morning, I decided to drive down to Hernando, Mississippi to the DeSoto County courthouse to search for Burnett's will and estate records, which was just a 30-minute drive from where I lived in Memphis.  The courthouse worker led me to a room filled with file cabinets that contain estate dockets.  Within a few minutes, I was happy to see that there was one for John Burnett.  I carefully opened his estate docket and browsed through the fragile documents within it.  My heart started pounding when I held two old blue/greenish pieces of paper, held together by a rusty stickpin that was probably over 130 years old, and realized that it was the following slave inventory dated March 20, 1863:

                                    1 Negro man named Jack             $700

                                    1  "        "          "     George        $1400

                                    1  "        "          "     Young Jack $1400

                                    1 "         "          "     HECTOR      $1200

                                    1 "         "          "     Cato            $1300

                                    1 Negro girl Nancy                       $1100

                                    1 old Negro woman Flora             $400

                                    1 girl Julia                                  $1100

                                    1 boy Wesley                             $700

                                    1 boy Jim                                   $800

                                    1 boy Lewis                               $700

                                    1 girl little Nelly & old Nelly        $800

                                    1 boy Bob                                  $1200

     I was so overwhelmed that I just had to sit there still for a moment to digest the document that I was viewing. It was the first time I found a slave inventory with my direct ancestors' names on it.  I was amazed as well as sad. The amazement came from the fact that I had documented my Davis ancestors during the slavery era, but the sadness came from when I saw how my enslaved ancestors were listed in that inventory among horses, cows, household items, and etc. with a price value beside their names. 

(3) Where in South Carolina did they come from?

     In an oral history interview with my maternal grandmother's first cousin, the late Sammie Lee Davis Hayes, she shared with me the following about her grandfather Hector's history, "I remember Grandpa Hector telling us how they were brought to Mississippi in wagons from South Carolina."  Cousin Sammie Lee was accurate. Census records verified that claim.  She further relayed, "I remember Uncle Jack (her great-uncle) well, and he and Grandpa Hector had a first cousin named Cut'n Wesley Johnson, who was also brought to Mississippi with them from South Carolina.  Cut'n Wesley and Grandpa Hector were real close like brothers."  Undoubtedly, Cousin Wesley Johnson was "boy Wesley" on the slave inventory.  Like my Davis ancestors, Cousin Wesley also took a different surname after slavery -- Johnson.  Where in South Carolina did they come from?

     To try to find the answer to that important question, I viewed the 1850 South Carolina census index. There were five John Burnetts living in different counties in South Carolina. Luckily, I found John & Anna Burnett residing in the Saluda district of Abbeville County, South Carolina. I then checked the 1850 Abbeville County slave schedule and found John Burnett with 18 slaves.  Slave schedules only report the names of slave-owners and the age, sex, and color of each of their slaves.

     Looking more closely at the schedule of John Burnett’s slaves in 1850, I noticed the unique way the census enumerator listed them in the slave schedule. An adult female was listed first with eight much younger slaves (children) listed after her.  She was my great-great-great-grandmother, Flora Davis. A second adult female slave, likely Nelly, was listed next with eight much younger slaves (children) listed after her. John Burnett obviously had owned two adult females and their 16 children, collectively.  Since there was not an adult male slave, Flora's husband, my great-great-great-grandfather Jack Davis Sr., was not enslaved by John Burnett in 1850. Where was he?  Hmmmm......

(4) Why did they change their surname to Davis?

     In the 1850 Abbeville County census, I discovered something that really caught my eye. There was a Davis family living in the same neighborhood as the Burnetts.  The family was headed by a man named Ephraim Davis. I checked the 1850 Abbeville County slave schedule to see if Ephraim Davis had owned any slaves. He had five slaves; one was a 35-year-old male which matched the profile of Jack Sr.  More questions entered my mind. Did Ephraim Davis “own” Jack Sr. in 1850?  Could Ephraim Davis be the person from whom the Davis name came from?  More research will be done to uncover this mystery.  If Ephraim Davis was the one, he undoubtedly sold Jack Sr. to the Burnetts before they migrated to Mississippi with Flora and her children so that Jack Sr. would not be separated from his family.  After slavery, Jack Sr. and his family decided to take the Davis surname instead of Burnett.

Conclusion

     As the number of their public transactions increased after 1865, the surnames of many once-enslaved African Americans had to be written into a record – whether as depositors in one of the Freedmen’s Banks, as signers or X-markers on a labor contract, as interviewees of the 1870 census enumerator, or as couples getting married by a county clerk. An in-depth research of these records, as well as the genealogy research of many African-American families, will show that many desired to take a surname that differed from their last enslaver. This revelation dispels the myth that the surname of an African American most likely represents the surname of the owner whose farm our ancestors resided on at the time of Emancipation. In registers recording 360 marriages at Davis Bend, Mississippi in 1864-1865, only a few of the enslaved carried the names Quitman, Jefferson, and Davis, the surnames of the prominent Davis Bend planters. Many African Americans' desire to detach themselves from their last enslavers by rejecting their surnames undoubtedly symbolized the independence that they longed to have for many generations.