Category: Family Biographies/Histories

Jasia reminded me today that the upcoming Carnival of Genealogy is devoted to the topic of “A Tribute to Women”: “Is there a woman in your family that deserves mention? Do you have a favorite aunt, cousin, or 5th great grandmother that you’d like pay tribute to? Let’s us hear about her!”

My family is graced with a great number of amazing women, but one of the most influential in my life is my maternal grandmother, Doris Thurman Cunningham. When I was very small and learning to talk, she tried to get me to called her Gram or Grams. I couldn’t say it (or perhaps I didn’t want to), and I called her Granna instead. As far as I know, I invented that word. My sister and cousins and all of our children all call my grandmother Granna as well.

I could say a lot about Granna, but I decided that instead of giving her life history, I would write about what she means to me.

Granna and I developed a closeness from the very start. My dad was in Vietnam when I was born, so my mother was staying with her family. Dad came home when I was six months old. I developed gastroenteritis, and it nearly killed me. My mother took me to the emergency room, but she didn’t realize, I don’t think, that she could question the ER personnel when she was told to take me home. My grandmother, wielding her experience with sick children, insisted that I see a doctor. My complexion was gray. The way I hear it told, Granna was memorable. She was so adamant that I see a doctor that years later when she ran into someone in that ER — it may even have been the doctor — he remembered her: “Oh, you’re the grandmother!” At any rate, my life was saved by my grandmother, and not for the last time.

Granna and I became especially close after my family moved to Colorado when my dad left the Air Force. I used to spend the weekend with her as often as I could. Weekends at Granna’s meant staying up late to watch Johnny Carson and The Love Boat and Fantasy Island. She made real air-popped, hot buttered popcorn in a huge bowl and let me use a dish towel to wipe my hands on. It’s funny the little things we think are so special when we were children. To my way of thinking, that dish towel was like a starched linen napkin! She bought a little foam mattress and used to make a pallet for me by her bed, but she didn’t mind if I wanted to climb up next to her and cuddle.

I have a lot of fond holiday memories of times spent at Granna’s house. In 1982, Denver was hit by a Christmas Eve blizzard. We walked to my grandparents’ house in the snow because my sister and I insisted we had to spend Christmas at Granna and Papa’s. We were snowed in for several days, and I just remembered being happy to be with my family.

Granna used to let us create Barbie doll hotels in her dining room. She had these little pieces of carpet, which we lined up so each hotel room had a different carpet. Her folded towels became luxury beds.

When I was eleven, Granna saved my life again by administering the Heimlich maneuver when I was choking. I must have been fairly close to passing out; people talk about how when your life is threatened, you see your life “flash before your eyes.” I did. It was like snapshots filing through my mind really fast.

Granna also took me with her to Germany when I was eleven. She was visiting my uncle, who was stationed in Germany in the Air Force. She had thought he would be coming back to the states, so when I made her promise to take me with her the next time she went, she winked and agreed, thinking she would never have to do any such thing. My uncle’s tour of duty in Germany was extended, however, and Granna found herself packing her bags to visit him again. I reminded her of her promise, and to her credit, she kept it. It would have been very easy to say she didn’t have enough money to buy me a ticket (now that I’m an adult, I know all about such things). But she didn’t do that. She said I could go, so she kept her word.

When I was selected for the National Junior Honor Society in middle school, Granna hung my certificate in her dining room. It’s still there more than thirty years later. When I made her a shelf out of mismatched and badly cut pieces of wood I found in Dad’s garage, finally gluing the sorry lot together with wood glue because I couldn’t get the nails in the wood — let me tell you, that shelf was a sight to behold — Granna proudly displayed the shelf right out where everyone could see it and even put some of her precious figurines on it.

Granna used to pay me a little bit of pocket money if I dusted the shelves in her bathrooms or wiped down her baseboards. She taught me to sew and let me me use her sewing machines (she had a career as a seamstress). She took me out to breakfast and let me drink Cokes — for breakfast! Can you imagine?

When Granna was sewing, she used to hum tunes. I always asked her what she was singing, and she said nothing really. I always wondered where she got all those tunes. I had never heard them before, and they sounded like the prettiest hymns.

in 1992, Granna was diagnosed with breast cancer, and we were all scared. She had a mastectomy and has been cancer free ever since. Later, she lost her sister to breast cancer. She was determined to get well, my mother told me, so that she could come to my wedding.

I have always been able to count on Granna. Her love has been unconditional. I can’t imagine my life without her; without her, I wouldn’t be here at all. She’s a very special person, and I don’t think we tell her that enough.

I love you, Granna.

Technorati Tags: family history, genealogy, tribute

Thomas Bouldinge arrived in Elizabeth City, Virginia on the ship Swan in 1610. The colony of Jamestown was established in 1607 and became the first permanent English settlement in America. The winter of 1609-1610 in Jamestown is known as the “starving time.” Over half of Jamestown’s settlers died waiting for supplies; supply ships were delayed. The area occupied by the colony was mosquito-infested, and the brackish water of the James River was no good for drinking. Native Americans were rightfully inhospitable to the colonists, as well. Many historians believe Jamestown’s high mortality rate can partially be blamed on poor planning. The colonists expected to trade with the locals for their food between supply ships and threw most of their cultivating energies into growing tobacco. By 1611, most of the Jamestown settlers had died. The colony’s prospects for survival looked bleak until 1617, when the colony’s tobacco exports finally generated enough income to keep the colony going.

Very little is actually known about Thomas Bouldinge. He is accepted as one of the “Ancient Planters” of America. The Order of Descendants of Ancient Planters, much like the Mayflower Society, is a genealogy society whose members trace their lineage to early American settlers. In the case of the Ancient Planters, members must prove lineage from a settler who emigrated to America prior to 1616, paid their own passage, and survived the massacre of Jamestown in 1622 (i.e., lived at least three years after the attack). Thomas Bouldinge was 40 when he emigrated to America. He may have come to Virginia with a wave of immigrant farmers in order to cultivate the land for the purpose of growing food for the fledgling colony. He married a woman named Mary, whose name is often spelled “Bouldin.” Herein lies one of the major problems that descendants of this family have in tracing their lineage: the name has a multitude of spelling variations, and it would seem our ancestors themselves were not terribly picky about how they spelled it. Some variations on the spelling include Bouldin, Bolton, Bolding, Bolden, Bolling, Bowling, Bollin, Boulding, and Bouldinge.

Another problem with researching this line is that overzealous genealogists in the past have created outright fiction in order to establish family connections to Pocahontas. If I might be granted a moment’s indulgence, I have rarely come across any other historical figure that so many people wanted to claim as an ancestor. It is true that many Bollings may trace their ancestry to Pocahontas, whose granddaughter Jane Rolfe married Robert Bolling. However, Robert Bolling arrived in Virginia in 1660. If he is related to Thomas Bouldinge, it is distantly; therefore, Thomas Bouldinge’s descendants most likely cannot claim Pocahontas as an ancestor (unless they descend through some other line in their families as well). I have examined the problem of the Blue Bollings in another post.

Inconsistency with name spellings and shoddy research done by genealogists more concerned with documenting wishful thinking than actual facts are not the only problems I have encountered in researching this line. I have made the acquaintance of two distant cousins, Larry Bowling and Joe Bowling. Their collective research has traced the Bowling lineage back to three brothers — Alexander, William, and Thomas Bowling, who lived in West Tennessee in the early 1800’s. My ancestor is William Bowling (1784-1870), who is the great-grandfather of Stella Ophelia Bowling — my great-great grandmother. If you are doing math, you have probably wondered how I can possibly maintain a connection to Thomas Bouldinge through a descendancy from William Bowling.

My connection to Thomas Bouldinge cannot yet be proven through historical documentation, but it can be proven through science. Larry Bowling and Joe Bowling participated in the Bolling Family Association DNA Study in 2001. Their DNA results were compared with those of a known, documented descendant of Thomas Bouldinge. Larry summarized the conclusions of the study:

Several descendants of Alexander, one of William and one of Thomas participated in the study. They all matched exactly using the 12 loci y-chromosome test conducted by Family Tree DNA and the Univ. Of Arizona. This proves that they all shared a common Bowling ancestor and proves the relationship of these three men when combined with other evidence. In 2002, John Bouldin, a documented descendant of Thomas Bouldinge 1580-1655, Fh665, who immigrated to America in 1610 on the Swan, also took the DNA test and matched my group 12 of 12. This test was expanded to the 25 allele test and compared with mine. We, again, matched exactly 25 of 25, proving that we share a common Bouldin/Bowling ancestor within 23 generations with a 90% confidence and 7 generations at 50%. Another desc. of Thomas Bouldinge 1580 has also matched this group. Thus it would appear, based upon the DNA evidence collected thus far, that Alexander, William and Thomas are descendants of Thomas Bouldinge 1580-1655 through an as yet undiscovered branch of his tree.

Because my relationship through the Bowling line to both Joe Bowling and Larry Bowling can be established through historical documentation, and their relationship to Thomas Bouldinge can be established through scientific documentation, it follows that I also have a relationship to Thomas Bouldinge.

My husband has Bolton relatives through his father’s mother, and my mother’s maternal aunt Winnie married Arvel Bolding. Despite the different spellings, these family members might find connections to Thomas Bouldinge (or other known Bolling branches) if they are willing to participate in the Bolling Family Association’s DNA test. Participants must be male, as it is a Y-chromosome study.

Thus, I can say my earliest immigrant ancestor in my Bowling line would seem to be Thomas Bouldinge, though I cannot trace my own Bowling ancestors past my ggggg-grandfather William Bowling. My ancestry to William Bowling is as follows:

Dana Michelle Swier
+ Patti Jo Cunningham
++ Udell Oliver Cunningham
+++ Herman Cunningham (1895-1980)
++++ Stella Ophelia Bowling (1867-1938)
+++++ William Jones Bowling (1840-1916)
++++++ Burgess Bowling (Abt. 1819-Bef. 1845)
+++++++ William Bowling (1784-1870)

This post is the fifth in a series about my known immigrant ancestors.

In 1685, Louis XIV issued the Edict of Fontainebleau, a revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Under the Edict of Nantes, Protestants were granted certain civil rights. Louis XIV’s new edict declared Protestantism illegal, and after its issuance, hundreds of thousands of Huguenots fled the country. The violence done to Huguenots in France prior to the Edict of Nantes is counted among history’s worst atrocities. Among those Huguenots who escaped the violence that was sure to follow the Edict of Fontainebleau were my ancestors Daniel Jouet, his wife, the former Marie Coursier, and their children Daniel and Pierre.

Daniel Jouet was born in about 1660 in Île de Ré, France, near the Huguenot center of La Rochelle. He was a sailmaker by trade (Van Ruymbeke 93). Daniel Jouet and his wife initially emigrated to London, England after the Edict of Fontainebleau. In late 1686 or early 1687, they received five pounds sterling to “go to Carolina” from the French Committee, who oversaw dispensation of funds to needy Huguenots in England (Van Ruymbeke 93). They would not leave for Carolina until 1695. First, they moved to Plymouth, where their third child, a daughter named Marie, was born. In 1688, they emigrated to Narragansett, Rhode Island (Van Ruymbeke 93). In 1689, the Jouets relocated to New York City where their fourth child, Ézéchiel was born (Van Ruymbeke 93). Ézéchiel, another son Jean, and two more daughters, Élisabeth and Anne, were baptized in the French Church in New York (Baird 306). By 1695 the family “suddenly and surprisingly” left for Carolina at last. They petitioned for naturalization in 1696, but did not remain in Carolina long before once again relocating to Elizabethtown, New Jersey (Van Ruymbeke 93). Daniel Jouet’s will was proved on October 10, 1721 (Calendar of New Jersey Wills).

Daniel Jouet’s rootlessness is explained by Bertrand Van Ruymbeke as “symtomatic of the post-Revocation exodus and of the displaced Huguenots’ unusual capacity for mobility” (94).

I descend from Daniel’s son Pierre, who established his own family in Virginia. It is not clear when, but some time after the Jouets emigrated, the spelling of their name was altered to “Jouett.” Pierre’s son Matthew Jouett was the progenitor of a long line of namesakes in the families of his female descendants. For example, his daughter Henrietta married Joseph Williams and would name her son Matthew Jouett Williams. Matthew Jouett Williams’ daughters Rebecca (Williams) Anthony and Mary Ann (Williams) Black would name their sons Matthew Jouett Williams Anthony and Matthew Jouett Williams Black, respectively.

Matthew Jouett was a captain of the Virginia Militia in the American Revolution. His son is perhaps a more famous Patriot than he, however. Captain John “Jack” Jouett is known as the “Paul Revere of the South.” Captain Jack Jouett’s son Matthew Harris Jouett is a well-known artist. To the left is his famous portrait of Thomas Jefferson. [Note: Deb Comer in the comments is absolutely right about dates; the erroneous information was found on the site I linked. A lesson: Be careful about even reputable sources!]

Daniel Jouet’s descendants included Tories, too. Cavalier Jouet was a son of Daniel Jouet (Jr. — Daniel Jouet’s son). Cavalier Jouet remained in New Jersey; he was raised by his grandparents, Daniel Jouet and Marie Coursier Jouet. He was imprisoned for his Loyalist sympathies, but escaped behind British lines in New York. His property and estate were confiscated, and he emigrated to England. He returned to America in 1792 to attempt to regain his property, but was apparently unsuccessful and returned to Rawreth, Essex in England, where he died in 1810. Cavalier Jouet’s son Xenophon Jouet was also a Loyalist. He fought as ensign in the New Jersey Volunteers during the Revolution, then moved to Canada following the war.

My connection to Daniel Jouet may be traced thusly:

Dana Michelle Swier
+ Patti Jo Cunningham
++ Udell Oliver Cunningham
+++ Herman Cunningham (1895-1980)
++++ Amos Blakey Cunningham (1871-1962)
+++++ Mary Ann Penelope Anthony (1835-1917)
++++++ Matthew Jouett Williams Anthony (1808-1868)
+++++++ Rebecca Williams (1782-1832)
++++++++ Matthew Jouett Williams (1749-1818)
+++++++++ Henrietta Jouett (1727-1779)
++++++++++ Matthew Jouett (Abt. 1701-1746)
+++++++++++ Pierre Jouet (1683-1743)
++++++++++++ Daniel Jouet (Abt. 1660-1721)

This post is the fourth in a series about my known immigrant ancestors.

Book Sources:

• Baird, Charles Washington. History of the Huguenot Emigration to America. Vol. 1. New York: Dodd, Mead, 1885.
• Van Ruymbeke, Bertrand. From New Babylon to Eden: The Huguenots and Their Migration to Colonial South Carolina. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2006.

Web sources are linked above.

The further back one traces a family, the murkier the waters become. If it isn’t poor record-keeping, it’s a courthouse fire. And that’s if it isn’t wishful thinking on the part of another family researcher. Still most legends have some basis in fact. What then, is the basis of the fantastic legend surrounding the emigration of Mark Anthony?

The most traditional version of the narrative is that Mark Anthony was born in about 1670 to a merchant of the same or a similar name in Genoa, Italy. The elder Mark Anthony (or Marcus Antony, as he is sometimes known to researchers, most likely to distinguish him from his son) relocated to the Netherlands for reasons that aren’t clear. He desired his son to be educated in Genoa — an idea that didn’t appeal to the younger Mark Anthony’s adventurous spirit at all. Instead, the young man ran away to sea. He was waylaid by Barbary pirates and enslaved in Algiers. Different versions vary in the details, but most agree that once in Algiers, Mark Anthony either escaped by killing his captor or simply by slipping away. This story was retold for generations, and it seemed especially strong in the Georgia Anthony branch of the family.

Arlene Anthony, a researcher associated with Linda Starr’s Colonial Virginia Connections group, does not believe this wild tale, and I have to admit I don’t either. Her research tends to suggest that the Anthony family were from England, possibly by way of the Iberian peninsula, and that they were either Jewish or Roma. I think it more likely that they were Jewish. Their movements mirror those of Marranos, though without historical documents, it is impossible to know exactly when the family migrated from Italy or the Iberian Peninsula to the Netherlands.

The Georgia account of Mark Anthony’s arrival indicates that he arrived in Virginia after his harrowing adventure before October 3, 1690 and was indentured (possibly to Charles Fleming) for three years in order to pay for his passage. He is one of twenty people listed in an application for a land patent of 1000 acres in New Kent County in 1690. In 1700, he applied for a land grant of 1000 acres — some researchers speculate he returned to Europe and brought back 20 applicants in order to apply for this land grant. The 1704 book of Quit Rents indicates he had 190 acres of land in New Kent County. He appears in the records of St. Paul’s Vestry in 1709.

Mark Anthony married Isabella Hart in about 1703 and become a prosperous landowner. Some family researchers believe that the Anthonys and allied families were Crypto-Jews because they continued to practice Sephardic naming traditions. I have not found this to be true. Strict Sephardic naming practices call for the first son to be named for his paternal grandfather and the first daughter for her paternal grandfather. The second son and daughter should be named for the maternal grandfather and grandmother, respectively. The third son/daughter should be named for a paternal uncle or aunt, and the fourth son/daughter for a maternal uncle or aunt. The Clarks and Anthonys did commonly “recycle” names across generations in a somewhat Sephardic fashion, but it is not exact. For example, Mark Anthony’s son Joseph Anthony and his wife Elizabeth Clark Anthony did not name their firstborn son Mark — rather, he was named Christopher for his wife’s father. Likewise, their first daughter was named Sarah, seemingly for a maternal aunt. Not until their sixth son was born would they name him for his paternal grandfather, Mark Anthony. It is possible that the family were indeed Sephardic in origin, but I don’t think one can use their naming practices as evidence.

The Anthony family married into the Quaker families of Colonial Virginia. While Quakers would probably have been more tolerant of Jews, and thus, might have married Jews, it appears that if the Anthonys were Jewish, they eventually adopted various forms of Quaker or Protestant faith. For example, Anselm Anthony, a great-grandson of Mark Anthony, was a renowned Baptist minister in Georgia. Mark Anthony’s daughter-in-law, Elizabeth Clark Anthony, was known to have made multiple missionary trips between Georgia and Virginia; her family were said to be devoted Quakers. A funny and almost certainly apocryphal story has been passed down in the Anthony family that suggests that Joseph Anthony, son of Mark, actually possessed a written genealogy of his descent from Mark Antony, the famous Roman general and politician. His pious in-laws supposedly burned the document because it bespoke vanity. (I wonder what they would make of their numerous genealogist descendants!)

Speculation about who Mark Anthony might have been is more abundant than actual evidence. Certainly, he was the progenitor of a family of colorful characters with a love for a good yarn. You can read more about my own speculations (a post which also recounts my ancestry traced back to Mark Anthony) as to his background and you can read those of Arlene Anthony at Colonial Virginia Connections.

This post is third in a series about my known immigrant ancestors.

In my previous post in this current series on my immigrant ancestors, I mentioned the Swier family, who adopted my grandfather, David Swier. My grandfather’s adopted parents, Walter Swier and Laura Helen Schmidt Swier, were both the children of immigrants.

Dirk Swier (left) was born in Bovenkarspel in the province of Noord-Holland in the Netherlands on December 6, 1855. He married Aaltje Zwier on May 1, 1879. Dirk was diagnosed with a lung condition and was advised to move to a warmer, drier climate, so he decided to move his family to America. The Swiers traveled to America on the Maasdam (Wikipedia article), arriving March 9, 1893. The family first moved to Red Lion, Colorado. Red Lion is located in Logan County, in the northern part of the state, near the Nebraska border. Dirk worked for the Holland Dutch Seed Company and became a U.S. citizen while living in Colorado. According to an account written by Dirk’s son Walter, the Swiers were taken in by a fradulent land deal and were forced to move to Iowa in the winter of 1893. The Swiers remained in Iowa for seven or eight years and then decided to move west to Washington State with a group of Dutch immigrants. They settled in the Moxee Valley in Yakima County in 1901. They cleared the land, built a house and barn, and grew vegetables and raised dairy cattle. Dirk traveled six miles in a horse-drawn buggy several times a week in order to sell vegetables in Yakima stores. He also raised hogs and chickens. His health improved while living in Moxee. Dirk and the other Dutch settlers decided to build a Dutch church, and they established the First Reformed Church. The Swiers prayed and read the Bible before meals. On Sundays, they attended English services in the morning and Dutch services in the evening. They opened their home to visitors on Sunday afternoons. They were particularly helpful to new settlers, allowing the newcomers to stay in their home until they could construct their own homes. They also opened their home to visiting preachers.

Aaljte Zwier (left) was born in Enkhuizen, Noord-Holland on May 10, 1858. Both Dirk and Aaltje descend from Hendrik Swier; they were second cousins once removed. However, Aaltje’s grandfather, Klaas Zwier, adopted an alternate spelling of the name, whereas Dirk’s great-grandfather Wouter (Klaas’s brother) kept the spelling Hendrik used. By the time she came to America with her husband Dirk, Aaltje had seven daughters: Diewertje, Trijntje, Antje, Cornelia, Gerritje, Aafje and Aaltje. One of their daugthers, Aaltje, died before the family emigrated to America. Once the family moved to America, they Anglicized their names. Dirk was sometimes referred to as “Dick.” Aaltje herself became “Alice.” Their six daughters became Dora (Diewertje), Kate (Trijntje), Anna (Antje), Cora (Cornelia), Gertrude (Gerritje), and Effie (Aafje). Aaltje, or Alice, as she was then known, gave birth to six more children in America: Walter, Alice, Rena, Cobie (or Bertha), Richard, and Gerrit Benjamin. Once the family relocated to Yakima, Aaltje wrote a devotional column called De Volksvriend (The Peoples’ Friend) for the National Dutch weekly paper. She always kept peppermints and sugar cookies in her pantry, which she served at daily coffees she scheduled at 9:30 A.M. and 3:30 P.M. It is said that she was constantly in prayer, even as she darned socks while rocking in her rocking chair. As her children or grandchildren departed from her home, she always left them with this advice: “Never forget to pray.”

Dirk and Aaltje instilled in their children the sort of love and compassion that would later move one of their sons, Walter, to take in a poor child, living in desperate circumstances, and give him the chance at a better life — perhaps even at survival — along with their name. My grandfather David, whom they adopted upon the death of his natural father, would be Walter and Laura Swier’s only son. Though they are not my ancestors by blood, they were a loving influence in my father’s early life, and I truly believe that had they not taken in my grandfather as their own son, I would not be here, so I honor them as my ancestors and see them, in some ways, as my grandfather’s and my father’s (therefore my own) salvation. My dad vividly recalls large family gatherings at his grandfather Walter’s home in Cowiche, Washington. He also recalls that his grandfather used to sing the nursery rhyme, “Tom, Tom, the Piper’s Son” to him when he was a child. His grandparents, though born in America, still retained enough of their family’s immigrant identity that they spoke fluent Dutch.

The Swier family is probably my closest, however tenuous, connection to the Mayflower pilgrims, as it is believed that the first Swiers were of the Wier family, a group of Separatists who emigrated to Holland. When the others sailed to America on the Mayflower, the Swiers remained behind and essentially became Dutch, most likely marrying with Dutch families. It is unknown when the Wiers added the “S” to the beginning of their surname, but it took place at some point between 1616 and about 1720 (the approximate birth year of my earliest known ancestor, Hendrik Swier). You can read a tribute my grandfather Walter wrote for Dirk and Aaltje on the occasion of their 50th wedding anniversary in 1929. You can also visit my cousin Rick Zeutenhorst’s (who descends from Cornelia/Cora) website for more information on the Swiers. He has been invaluable to me in learning about the Swier family.

This post is the second in a series on my known immigrant ancestors.

None of my ancestors arrived on the Mayflower, at least not as far as I know, but many of them came to America, like the Pilgrims, to escape religious persecution or upheaval in Europe. Today I will begin a new series in this blog on those immigrant ancestors about which I already know. Future information I learn through research will be documented later.

Hans Bielmann is one of my earliest immigrant ancestors on my father’s side. He was born in Biberach, Württemberg, Prussia (Germany) on 11 September 1703, according to family records. He married Anna Maria Bentz at the Lutheran church in Biberach on 23 November 1734 (Happy Anniversary!). He emigrated to America in 1736 on the ship Princess Augustus out of Rotterdam to Philadelphia. I do not know his precise reasons for emigrating, but there was a large wave of emigration out of what would become Germany in the early 1700’s following wars with the French and Spanish. I found a wonderful account of the voyage of the Princess Augustus by a passenger named Durs Thommen. I preserved all spellings given on the original site, which will account for some possible misspellings (with the exception of obvious typos) or inconsistent spellings.

Philadelphia, October 20, 1736

My friendly greetings and service to you, my much beloved Reverent Mr. Candidate Annoni and your beloved wife Ester Annoni, born in Zwingerin.

I cannot desist from writing to you and to tell you in a few words that I with my family — the loving faithful Father in Heaven be praised for that — have come into this land fresh and healthy. But at sea our two younger sons became sick with ship fever but, thank God, have regained their previous health. But I now know nothing further to write because we have come so late into this country and everything has already been harvested.

As to the journey, we were detained for 5 weeks, have slept on the Rhine for 2 weeks and travelled from Rotterdam across the sea for 12 weeks and 4 days until Philadelphia, but only 8 weeks from land to land, and we did not have good wind save for 8 days, more contrary winds than side wind. And as we saw land a new pilot came to us and we thought all was well and won. All evening we got good wind from behind so that the ship moved vigorously. The new pilot, however made cast anchor because it was not far (from there) dangerous; in the morning when the anchor was lifted again and on had barely gone 30 feet the boat ran into a rock, and it crashed that one thought it would break in the middle. The anxious crying began, and one could see where there was faith or not. Then the captain had a warning shot fired and had a flag of distress hoisted, but we drove far out to the sea so that we saw no land anymore for days and even thought we would never see it again.

As far as illness are comcerned, the Mannheim skippers had two of the boats sidewise together; in the one besides ours 7 children died of small pox and a woman of spotted fever, and in our boat 19 people died until Rotterdam. Those people who have means and are interested in this land and need not go into debt, those I advise to stay where they are because the journy is onerous and very dangeous. Thus who wants to come to this land shall be well provided with butter and bacon, dried apple snips and plums, and flour, wine and brandy and dried bread, tea and sugar. And if young people come and cannot pay fare, there are enough people to redeem them from the boat, and they must serve them a certain time for it. There are people with whom I have talked myself who had brought not a penny into the land and had to serve for their fare, now (they) are very rich people. But I do not know to write much of the land because we came into it quite late and everything had already been harvested, and one should not rely much on the talk of other people, thus I am willing, if it were to please the Lord in Heaven, to send very accurate news in the future when I have investigated things my self.

But I have not yet taken up the land, but I am also willing to wait until I know the land better or have approached trusted friends so that I may believe them. I could have already taken up, however, more than to 3 to 400 acres that have been much planted, and there would remain in my hands quite a good portion of my imported wealth. What has already been cleared of that place, meadow and fields, is for 6 horses, 8 cows, 12 goats, 14 pigs. We are very sorry that at home we have not lived according to Christ’s demand on occasion as we should have done.

Durs Thommen formerly of Niederdorff your servant

From: “On The power O Pietism” by Leo Schelbert, PhD in the “Historic Scaefferstown Record” vol 17, Issues No 3 & 4.

Hans Bielmann’s wife Anna Bentz Bielmann and their daughter Elizabeth Katharina were not listed on the passenger manifest, but they were most likely on the ship with Hans, as the names of women and children were not always listed. Hans settled in Pennsylvania Dutch country, where many refugees from the Rhineland Palatinate settled in the early 1700’s.

Once the Bielmanns settled in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, their family grew and they changed the spelling of their last name to Billman. In 1930, Bielmann descendant F.W. Billman prepared a hand-drawn family tree that is still in existence. Included with a tree was a brief history of Hans David Bielmann:

Hans David Bilmann Entered at Phila Sept 16, 1736. Ship Princess Augustus. Sailed from Rotterdam Aged 31 yrs. Warr 200
A 1738 W 150A 1744 Lynn Twp. Northampton Co Pa. His wife and 2 children killed and 1 son wounded by Indians March 1756. Marr-Elizabeth ___, by Oct 1757. Witness to will in 1761 __ . Acted as Spons in 1757, 1759,
1761__. Elder in Albany Church 1757. Constable Albany District 1752 __. Spons for David HESS. Oct 1757.

Of course, I am extremely curious about his troubles with the Indians. Upon finding this notation, I began digging, and it would appear that it is fairly well-established family lore that Anna Maria and two of the couple’s sons were indeed killed in an Indian raid. I can find little information on this attack. However, it is probable that the attacks were part of the larger conflict and hosilities surrounding the French and Indian War, which began in 1754. (Learn more about this conflict’s effect on Lehigh Township here — pdf).

I was able to learn interesting tidbits of information about my ancestor’s life. For instance, in 1759, he petitioned the court to excuse a fine imposed upon him for selling “Cyder.” He had been granted a permit only to sell brandy; however, he explained to the court that he sold the cider out of hardship following the Indian attack upon his home, adding that his wife and two children were murdered and most of his personal effects had been taken by the Indians (The Billman Family). I have also learned that DNA testing has proven that the line of Dewalt Billman (Hans Theobald Billman) does not descend from Hans David, as was previously believed (and, not surprisingly, still widely disseminated all over the Internet).

In many ways, it is remarkable I was able to find my connection to the Bielmann family. My paternal grandfather, David Edwin Swier, was adopted at the age of nine by the Swier family, who were late-nineteenth century Dutch emigrants from Bovenkarspel, Noord Holland in the Netherlands. After my grandfather passed away, I learned from his obituary that his birth name had been Edwin Guy Gearhart, and that his birth parents were Omar Alfred Gearhart and Gertrude Nettie Perkins. I wrote a query about the Gearharts at a genealogy forum for the Gearhart family and connected with a descendant from my grandfather’s brother who told me their story. Subsequent research has enabled me to trace my grandfather’s birth family. My connection to the Bielmanns can be demonstrated thusly:

Dana Michelle Swier
+ Thomas Ray Swier
++ David Edwin Swier, né Edwin Guy Gearhart (1921-2001)
+++ Omar Alfred Gearhart (1884-1930)
++++ George Douglas Gearhart (1860-1929)
+++++ Conrad L. Gearhart (1838-1899)
++++++ Henry Gearhart (1811-?) and Elizabeth Billman (1814-1870)
Both Henry Gearhart and Elizabeth Billman descend from Hans David Bielmann. Continuing the line with Henry Gearhart:

++++++ Henry Gearhart (1811-?)
+++++++ Sarah Billman (1790-1863)
++++++++ Conrad Bielmann (1764-1830)
+++++++++ Conrad Bielmann (1739/1740-1797)
++++++++++ Hans David Bielmann (1703-1768)
And continuing the line with Elizabeth Billman:

++++++ Elizabeth Billman (1814-1870)
+++++++ Johann Henry Bielmann (1776-1854)
++++++++ Conrad Bielmann (1739/1740-1797)
+++++++++ Hans David Bielmann (1703-1768)

I can only imagine how difficult Hans David Bielmann’s life must have been — from his birth in the midst of turmoil in the Palatinate to his death in the foment of the American Revolution. I have to admire his fortitude, for his life on the frontier was harder than anything I can imagine.

This post is part one of a series about my known immigrant ancestors in America.

Those of you who just read this blog may not realize it, but I have compartmentalized my various interests across several different blogs. That means that no single blog I write is updated as regularly as it probably should be if I want to attract regular readers, but then, it also means that if you’re not interested in my ramblings about education or Harry Potter, you don’t have to be exposed to them. For the record, these are my other blogs:

• Much Madness is Divinest Sense (my personal blog; mostly a discussion of books and my family)
• The Pensieve (my Harry Potter blog)
• huffenglish.com (my education blog)
• Mrs. Huff’s English Classes (a blog I keep for my students’ benefit)

You’ll probably recognize a few of the layouts. 😉

For the most part, my various interests don’t intersect much. Once, I dissected J.K. Rowling’s Black Family Tree (Sirius Black’s family) with all the zeal of the genealogist at my Harry Potter blog. At my education blog, I shared a letter my great-great-grandmother Stella Bowling Cunningham, who taught in a one-room schoolhouse in the 1890’s, wrote to my great-uncle Alvin Cunningham about what school was like when she was a girl. Occasionally, I urge readers of my personal blog to pop over here to read something I’m particularly proud of. Aside from these rare instances, however, this blog remains separate from my others, and they, for they most part, remain separate from each other.

I have an American literature lesson idea book I keep at school. One suggestion was to have students do some research into their family histories and connect those to American history on a timeline. I thought perhaps some might argue this is not exactly an English class assignment. My counter-argument is that history and literature are inextricably connected, and in many places, they are combined into courses, such as American Studies. Events going on in the world had a direct impact on the kind of literature that writers created. I thought it might be interesting to see what the students’ families were doing while the works we studied were written.

So many of the students really put a lot of work into their research. All I asked for was a simple timeline, but they created elaborate posters, complete with pictures and documents. They were fascinating. One boy told us of an ancestor who was taken to a concentration camp. She had been a violist in the Vienna Symphony Orchestra, and her playing for the Nazis enabled her to be freed. Another student told how she discovered her immigrant ancestor arrived at Ellis Island on Columbus Day in 1892 and was dazzled by the celebration in her new country. Still another student told a fascinating story of her ancestors’ initial immigration to South Africa — her direct ancestor looked at the label inside his coat when asked his name and gave the spelling he saw; his brother gave a different spelling; his other brother was confused and thought officials wanted his occupation and gave the name “Miller.” To this day, she has relatives from the same family with these three different names. Students told of emigrating from Russia to escape the pogroms, or from Eastern Europe prior to WWII, sensing the climate of the times.

It really underscored for me how each of us has a fascinating story to tell about our own families, and I’m really glad I did the assignment. I think I will take pictures of their projects and post them on the web. I told them I would share mine next week, so I guess I had better get it written out!

Everyone is heading or has headed back to school. In honor of the start of a new school year, I posted my great-great grandmother Stella Bowling Cunningham’s letter to her son Alvin about what school was like when she was a girl over at my education blog.

I was surprised and happy by the reaction to the letter. The post appeared the in 81st Carnival of Education. College professor Cyril Kesten plans to ask his students to read the letter and write about their own school memories (link to his comment). Millard Fillmore’s Bathtub linked the post so that other history teachers in Texas might be able to use it as an educational tool. I think that Grandma Stella would be very happy that so many people enjoyed learning about her school days.

I do want to clarify that while the picture I provided is of a class of Stella’s, it was a college class at the Parker Institute. She attended the equivalent of grade school in the 1880’s and not the 1890’s.

Thanks to everyone!