Grocer, farmer, investor, columnist, race man. Cain D. Sauls wore many hats. As this brief newspaper article reveals, justice of the peace was yet another.
Great Sunny South, 25 March 1898.
Grocer, farmer, investor, columnist, race man. Cain D. Sauls wore many hats. As this brief newspaper article reveals, justice of the peace was yet another.
Great Sunny South, 25 March 1898.
I was a child plagued by respiratory illness and nearly every winter endured a tough bout with bronchitis. When the worst was over, and I was in a recuperating stage, my mother returned to her teaching job, and I sometimes spent a few days at my Aunt Mildred’s house one street over.
Mildred Henderson Hall was not really my aunt. She was my grandmother’s first cousin, daughter of her uncle Jesse “Jack” Henderson. During my grandmother and father’s childhoods, Uncle Jack and his children were the only nearby Henderson relatives. By time I came along, Mildred, her youngest sister Doris Henderson Ward and some of their children were the only other Hendersons left in Wilson. Mildred’s youngest daughters were still at home when I was child, and I grew to know them and the younger of their two brothers best.
I loved my brief stays at Aunt Mildred’s, wrapped in blankets and installed on the couch in her wood-paneled den, drowsing before the television while she handled calls related to the family business. Occasionally, I got a glimpse of the teenaged Patricia, impossibly glamorous in my eyes, leaving for school. More often, Aunt Mildred’s husband, Louis Hall, would stop at home between jobs. He was not a tall man, but he seemed to me a big one. In later years he had a belly, but I think my impression came more from his persona than his actual size. He had a warm smile and a ready laugh, and I, who had no living grandfathers, was drawn to him.
Louis and Mildred Henderson Hall at home, probably mid-1960s.
Years later, as I researched a thesis examining the involuntary apprenticeship of free children of color, I grew familiar with all the free families of color in Wilson and Wayne Counties. I came upon a set of Halls from the Stantonsburg area and, curious, traced them forward. I was delighted to find that Uncle Louis was descended from this very family. Years after that, I was even happier to be able to provide my Hall cousins with rare documentation of their antebellum forebears’ births.
The family’s earliest known ancestor was Eliza Hall, a free woman of color born about 1820, probably in what was then the heel of southwest Edgecombe County. How she met James Bullock Woodard, a prosperous white farmer and slaveowner, is unknown, but by Eliza’s early 20s they had begun a relationship that would last at least a decade. A sympathetic relative of Woodard’s, perhaps feeling that blood is blood, recorded the births of James and Eliza’s children in her family’s Bible:
Ages of The children of Eliza Hall
William Henry Hall was born Feb the 11th 1844 Patrick Hall was born October the 6th 1845 Margaret ann Hall was born Feb the 12th 1847 Louiser Hall was born April the 9th 1849 Balam Hall was born Feb 7th 1851
William H. Hall lived and farmed near Stantonsburg, Wilson County, most of his life. He married three times — to Lucy Barnes, Annie E. Smith and Mamie Artis — and had at least nine children. His fifth, more or less, was Robert Hall, born 18 July 1886. When Robert was about 4 years old, his father sold to trustees the quarter-acre of land upon which Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church was founded. William H. Hall spent his last years living in his son Robert’s household and died 23 June 1925.
On 7 January 1908 in Wilson County, Robert Hall married Katie Farmer, daughter of Robert and Marenda Bynum Farmer. (And Katie’s sister Ida married Robert’s brother Thomas Hall.) Robert supported his large family as his father had done, by farming. Uncle Louis, born in 1920, was Robert and Katie Hall’s fifth child. He and Aunt Mildred reared six children on Queen Street in Wilson as they built East Carolina Vault Company, a family-owned business that now employs third-generation Halls.
Wilson County is a small world of criss-crossing family lines, and Uncle Louis was not the only descendant of Eliza Hall that I knew. Once, I saw my cousin (his daughter) hugging my geometry teacher at the mall. They, in fact, are first cousins. Another of their first cousins was the assistant principal at my high school. And as I prepared this blogpost, I ran across a marriage license for a daughter of William H. Hall’s brother Balam and one of my cousins, Snow B. Sauls.
William H. Hall is buried in the cemetery of the church he helped establish.
Photographs from collection of Lisa Y. Henderson; excerpt from Lewis Ellis Bible courtesy of Henry Powell; sources include birth and death certificates, World War I draft registration, deeds.
Raleigh Weekly Standard, 6 May 1868.
Jacob Ing’s radical ideas surfaced well before Reconstruction. As made clear in his last will and testament, he had a long relationship with a free woman of color named Chaney Jones (also known as Hester or Easter Jones) and fathered several children for whom he provided. One, daughter Lucinda, was the first legal wife of my great-great-great-grandfather Adam T. Artis.
[Small world: Jacob Ing witnessed the last will and testament of Reubin Taylor of Nash and Edgecombe Counties and served as executor of the estate of Reubin’s sons Dempsey and Kinchen Taylor, who owned my great-great-grandparents.]
All this (much-deserved) shine on Joseph R. Holmes, but he is not my direct ancestor. What do I know about Jasper Holmes?
Kinchen Taylor’s death in 1853 sent shockwaves through the community of enslaved men and women who labored on his plantation. In addition to more than 100 slaves, Taylor owned more several thousand acres of land in northern Nash County. Half of Taylor’s children were minors, and his slaves had to have known that the division and distribution of his property would wrench apart their community.
Taylor’s executors filed at least two inventories of his property, listing his slaves in no apparent order, but grouping mothers with their youngest children. My great-great-grandfather Green, about 38 years old in the 1856 inventory and valued at $750, is #30, while his wife Fereby and their oldest children Dallas, Peter and Henrietta are #88-91. Though some of Kinchen Taylor’s slaves were apportioned to Taylor’s adult children, most, including Green and his family, were placed in a pool to be later divided among the minors. Or sold for their benefit. (In the meantime, adults and older children were likely leased to nearby farmers who needed labor.) Inevitably, this estate division sundered families, and none could have known that freedom — and the chance to regather their kin — was just a decade away.
Who were the men and women that Kinchen Taylor enslaved? What became of them? Using names culled from the estate papers, I present them here, in alphabetical order, with notes recording what I know.
——
Albert. Valued at $1110.
Allen Sr. Valued at $1110.
Allen Jr. Valued at $800.
Amanuel. Valued at $870.
Amy and child Patience. Valued at $510.
Ann/Anna. Valued at $621.
Arnold. Valued at $870.
Berry.
Betsey. Valued at $200.
Bill. Valued at $1310.
Bob. Valued at $935.
Cain. Valued at $695.
Carter. Valued at $1230.
Cato. Valued at $1080.
Ceasar. Valued at $1080.
Chaney. Valued at $150.
Chapman. Valued at $900.
Clara. Valued at $300.
Daniel.
Dawson. Valued at $195.
Doctor. Valued at $1020.
Old Dred. Valued $370.
Edmon. Valued at $780.
Eliza. Valued at $640.
Elizabeth. Valued at $70.
Ella. Valued at $535.
Ellick. Valued at $846.
Elvira and children Joe, Faulcon and Ann. Valued at $1100.
Emily. Valued at $720.
Eveline and children Willie/Wiley, Caroline and Isham. Valued at $1100.
Eveline and children included in lot of slaves distributed to Kinchen Taylor’s daughter Elizabeth Taylor.
Fanny and children Margarett, Lucy, Leah and Jolly. Valued at $1490.
Feriby and children Dallas, Peter and Henrietta. Valued at $1230.
Frances and children Della, Carter and George. Valued at $1250.
Green. Valued at $750.
Haley/Hilly and children Hasty, Amy and Glasgo. Valued at $1310.
Handy. Valued at $780.
Hanna. Valued at $625.
Cooper Henry. Valued at $340.
Long Henry. Valued at $60.
Yellow Henry. Valued at $780.
Ida. Valued at $740.
Isaac.
Isabella and children Henrietta, Lucy and Joe. Valued at $930.
Jack. Valued at $450.
Jane. Valued at $640.
Jefferson/Jeffrey. Valued at $770.
Jim Sr. Valued at $333.
Jim Jr. Valued at $580.
Joe.
John Sr. Valued at $1025.
John Jr. Valued at $670.
Julia/July Ann. Valued at $200.
Old Kinchen. Valued at $360.
Levinia and children Thadious and Frank. Valued at $1000.
Big Lewis. Valued at $40.
Lucinda and children Ella, Olive and Angeline. Valued at $1240.
Lucy Sr. and child Turner. Valued at $640.
Lucy.
Margarett. Valued at $790.
Mariah. Valued at $770.
Matilda and child Calvin. Valued at $405.
Moll and child Martha. Valued at $640.
Mourning. Valued at $290.
Ned. Valued at $990.
Nick. Valued at $795.
Penny and children Carter Jr., Mary and George. Valued at $1300.
Pink. Valued at $830.
Rosetta.
Sam.
Simon. Valued at $465.
Susan. Valued at $800.
Tom. Valued at $570.
Tom Jr. Valued at $820.
Toney. Valued at $980.
Virgil. Valued at $750.
Washington. Valued at $990.
William Henry. Valued at $750.
——
Some preliminary thoughts: there were several unrelated white Taylor extended families in antebellum Nash County, North Carolina (not to mention bordering counties) and, while Kinchen may have been the largest among them, many owned slaves. Some of men and women listed died before freedom came or were sold away. Even taking these fates into account, surprisingly few African-Americans Taylors registered cohabitations in 1866 or were enumerated in the county in 1870. No doubt, many freedmen elected some other surname or moved a few miles away into adjoining counties. Women and small children may have adopted the surname of a husband (alive, dead or otherwise absent) or father (ditto). Moreover, as older children were not grouped with their mothers in the inventories, the relationships among members of the community are obscured. Naming patterns and living arrangements disclosed in censuses hint at such connections. Tracing Kinchen Taylor’s slaves has been frustratingly difficult, but I don’t quit.
Sources: the file of Kinchen Taylor (1853), Nash County, North Carolina Estate Files 1663-1979, https://familysearch.org, original, North Carolina State Archives; Nash County Cohabitation Records, North Carolina State Archives; federal censuses.
The eighth in a series of posts revealing the fallability of records (or, in this case, secondary sources.)
My great-aunt Julia Allen Maclin told me that her grandfather Jasper Holmes‘ brother, Joseph R. Holmes, a politician, was shot and killed at Charlotte Court House, Virginia. Before I found contemporaneous newspaper articles detailing the murder, I had only a couple of brief mentions in scholarly works to establish his death date. The accounts varied so widely as to be completely irreconcilable.
First, in Luther P. Jackson’s Negro Office-Holders in Virginia 1865-1895, published in 1945:
Joseph R. Holmes, Constitutional Convention, 1867-68, Charlotte and Halifax. SHOEMAKER. Born a slave in Charlotte County. Was hired out by his master to engage in shoemaking by traveling from plantation to plantation. Joseph R. Holmes’ brother Watt was likewise a shoemaker. Joseph learned to read and write and was very intelligent. After the war he received some training in law from his former master. About 1870 he met a tragic death by a gun shot on the grounds of the Charlotte County court house. According to one report his former owner shot him because of an offensive political speech; according to another report he was killed by mistake. During the period of his activity in politics, Holmes bought a farm home consisting of 8 1/2 acres.
Then, in Virginius Dabney’s Virginia: The New Dominion, published in 1971:
… In 1892, Joseph R. Holmes of Charlotte County, a black who had served in the Underwood convention more than two decades before, decided to run for the legislature. He was shot dead by a white man in the audience he was addressing.
Dabney’s account is so far off the mark as to boggle the mind. By 1892, Joseph Holmes had been dead more than 20 years. He never ran for any legislative seat and, while his murderer was certainly a white man, he was not giving a stump speech when he was shot.
Jackson’s version is much closer to the truth, though some the details of Holmes’ life cannot be confirmed and neither of the motives for his assassination are correct.
Here are newspaper accounts of the murder, which themselves vary a bit on the facts. However, based on comparisons with other sources, to be detailed soon, the New York Times‘ 8 May 1869 version of events (reprinted from the Richmond Dispatch, set forth below, seems closest to the truth:
The Recent Homicide at Charlotte Court-House, Virginia
From the Richmond Dispatch, May 5. From persons who were present at Charlotte Court-House on Monday we gather the following particulars of a most lamentable homicide which occurred there on that day, resulting in the death of JOE HOLMES, a colored man, well known to our readers as a member of the Virginia Constitutional Convention. Early in the morning, Mr. JOHN MARSHALL JR. met a colored man named MINNIL, who was formerly a slave of Captain GILLIAM, and asked him if he was the man who attempted his life some time ago. The negro, without making any reply to the question, immediately raised his bludgeon as if to strike MARSHALL, who drew his pistol. The negro then took to his heels, and was pursued by MARSHALL and some of his friends, and it was rumored during the day that he had been killed by them. Such, however, was not the fact, for he was alive and well and his work yesterday. About 2:30 o’clock on Monday, while the rumor was rife, the question of arresting MARSHALL was agitated, and HOLMES made himself very officious in regard to it. MARSHALL spoke to him about it, and he made some insulting reply, when Mr. BOYD, a friend of young MARSHALL, struck him with a stick. HOLMES then drew, or attempted to draw, his pistol, when he was fired at by some unknown party. HOLMES immediately retreated, and, when near the Court-house door, turned and fired at the young man, when several shots were fired at him, only one, however, taking effect. HOLMES had strength enough left to walk to the Court-house, and fell dead. The deceased was a prominent member of the late Constitutional Convention, prominent rather from the merriment he created on rising to speak rather than from any participation in the serious work of the body. He was good-natured, polite, and a great favourite with the reporters, to whom he was specially courteous, and whose daily appearance he always greeted with a broad laugh. The nearest we ever knew of him to come to a quarrel was a laughable row with Dr. BAYNE over the disputed ownership of a law book. JOE’s death will be regretted by all who knew him in the Convention, and by those who have laughed over him in the Humors of Reconstructions, where he figured as the “great fire-eater.”
To celebrate the sesquicentennial of the Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 2013, Virginia’s Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Commission created a roll call of the African-American men who were elected to the Virginia Constitutional Convention of 1867–1868 and to the Virginia House of Delegates and Senate during Reconstruction. Unfortunately, it picked up Virginius Dabney’s wildly inaccurate date:
Joseph R. Holmes, a native of Virginia, was a shoemaker and farmer who represented Charlotte and Halifax Counties at the Virginia Constitutional Convention of 1867-1868. He ran for a seat in the Senate of Virginia, but was killed in 1892.
My grandmother has been gone more than 13 years, and there are still days that I think, “Gahh! Mother Dear would be so tickled to hear this!” Yesterday was one of them.
After my Carter collateral kin post last week, my cousin C.J. posted the photos of the Carter brothers on her Facebook page. (Her great-grandfather was Milford Carter Sr.) Her grandfather’s first cousin D.C. responded, mentioning that he is a son of Johnnie Carter. I pounced. After a couple of email exchanges last week, I called D.C. yesterday. I clarified for him who my grandmother was and what her relationship was to Lucian Henderson. Not only did D.C. know who Uncle Lucian and Aunt Susie were, he was born in their house! Presumably the Carters moved in after Lucian’s death in 1934, but Johnnie and his wife Atha cared for both Lucian and Susie in their declining years. Susie died around 1940, and four years later the family sold the house and moved a few miles southeast to Clinton. The house eventually burned down, but was rebuilt in the same spot in essentially the same form. My grandmother had loved visiting her great-uncle Lucian’s house, and her warm memories of her time there inspired the name of this blog.
Several years ago, the late Mae Brewington Marks of Dudley sent me a photo of a house near the intersection of Sleepy Creek Road and Emmaus Church Road that she believed to have been Lucian Henderson’s. (Where is that picture???) She was right. I’d been a little skeptical because it looks too new to have been Lucian and Susie Henderson’s home. D.C.’s explanation and confirmation made my day.
A plat included among Kinchen Taylor’s estate papers revealed the core of the man’s property. With little difficulty, I matched waterways shown on one parcel with creeks running in modern Nash County. Fishing Creek forms its northern border with Halifax County, and Beaverdam Swamp flows into it a few miles northwest of the town of Whitakers. The hundreds of acres in the fork of these creeks belonged to Kinchen Taylor. For years I harbored a fantasy of hiring a prop plane to fly over this land while I scoured the ground for brick piers and broken chimneys and heaps of hewn logs and any other traces of Kinchen’s plantation.
Last year, I turned to the practical and learned that the I-house built by Kinchen’s son Kinchen Carter Taylor is not only still standing near Whitakers, but has been renovated and is occupied. After some sleuthing, I contacted the current resident, B.B., told him my interest in the place, and asked if I might be able to visit. His response was quick and unequivocal: “Anytime.”
On disgracefully short notice, I emailed B.B. just before I went home last December. Would he have some time to show me around over the holidays? We made tentative plans for after Christmas and firmed them up a few days later. B.B. had to leave town for work, but his wife A. was more than happy to give me a tour.
On a sunny Saturday, I pointed my car north on US 301 and drove 40 minutes up to Whitakers. In the middle of town, I made a left and headed out Bellamy Mill Road toward Taylor’s Crossroads. Here’s the area on a 1918 map of Nash County:
(A) marks the location of the largest chunk of Kinchen Taylor’s property at the fork of Fishing Creek and Beaverdam Swamp. (At some point the confluence was dammed to create Gum Lake shown above.) (B) is where Kinchen C. Taylor built his house, probably in the 1850s, on land inherited from his father called the Duncan Cain tract.
Taylors lived on the land well into the 20th century. In the 1980s, B.B.’s parents bought the house and surrounding acreage and set about repairing and renovating the abandoned dwelling, which looked like this:
As set forth in Richard L. Mattson’s The History and Architecture of Nash County, North Carolina, “[t]his Greek Revival house symbolizes the role of the Taylor family in the early settlement of the Whitakers vicinity. It was built in the 1850s, probably by Kinchen Carter Taylor, whose father (also Kinchen Taylor) may have occupied a house (demolished) across the road. … Though deteriorating, this house remains one of Nash’s finest examples of the vernacular Greek Revival. The facade includes such notable features as end chimneys with tumbled-brick shoulders, moulded gable returns, and heavy square porch columns with simple square capitals. The central-hall plan is entered through original double doors framed by sidelights and transom. The rear kitchen ell, which may have been moved up to the house at a later date, includes an engaged porch, close eaves, and a nine-over-six windows. … The house stands at the northwest corner of Taylor’s Crossroads. Located well back from the road and shaded by a cluster of oak trees, the Kinchen Carter Taylor House still evokes the image of the plantation seat it once was.”
A.B. warmly welcomed me when I pulled up beside the house. She graciously shared not only the photo above, but a map drawn by Kinchen C. Taylor’s nearly 100 year-old grandson that showed the locations of surrounding outbuildings, groves and pastures. Where possible, the character of the original house has been preserved in its interior, and I could not help but wonder if my Taylors, Green and Fereby, who had belonged to Kinchen C.’s father, had ever walked where I did. Even if not, they surely knew this house and were intimately familiar with its inhabitants.
Many thanks to Mark Bunn for alerting me that this house is still standing and putting me in touch with its owners and to them for opening their doors to give me a glimpse of my family’s world.
A running list of people missing from census enumerations (and the places I expected them to be):
Margaret Balkcum Henderson — 1850 Sampson County NC.
Nancy Balkcum — 1850 Sampson County NC.
Lucinda Nicholson — 1870 Iredell County NC.
Harriet Nicholson — 1870 Iredell County NC.
Walker Colvert — 1870 Iredell County NC.
John W. Colvert — 1870 Iredell County NC.
Daniel Artis — 1870 Greene County NC.
Mollie Henderson Hall Holt — 1900 Wayne, Randolph or Alamance County NC.
Louella Henderson King Wilson — 1900, 1910, 1920 Wayne County NC.
Adaline Hampton Colvert and daughters Selma, Henrietta and Ida Colvert — 1900 Statesville NC.
Hillary Simmons and children Minnie, Daniel and Dollie Simmons — 1900 Wayne County NC.
Minnie Simmons Budd — 1900 Wayne County NC; 1910 Wayne County NC or Philadelphia PA.
Alfonzo Pinkney Artis — 1910 Wayne County NC; 1920, 1930, 1940 Baltimore MD.
Ardeanur Smith Hart — 1910, 1920 Iredell County NC.
James G. Smith, alias McNeely — 1910, 1920 Iredell County NC; 1940 Guilford County NC.
Augustus Artis — 1920 Pulaski County AR.
J. Thomas Aldridge, alias Aldrich — 1920, 1930, 1940 Saint Louis MO.
Brothers Lucian and Jesse Henderson, alias Jacobs — 1930 Wilson NC.
Julia Holmes Jones — 1930 census, Orange NJ.
Janie McNeely Taylor — 1940 Statesville NC or Columbus OH.
Minnie McNeely — 1940 Columbus OH.
Frances McNeely Green — 1920 Statesville NC; 1940 Statesville NC or Columbus OH.
Sarah M. McNeely — 1920 Statesville NC.
Charles E. McNeely — 1920 Statesville NC; 1940 New York NY.
William M. McNeely — 1920 Statesville NC; 1940 New York NY.
Irving McNeely Weaver — 1920 Statesville NC.
Elethea McNeely Weaver — 1920 Statesville NC. [Seriously. What was with the McNeelys and the 1920 census? Were they all living in one uncounted household?]
The Great Sunny South (Snow Hill), 25 February 1898.
Cain D. Sauls revealed his civic commitment in this edition of his newspaper column. I need to research whether the efforts to fund and establish a ten-month school were successful.
(By the way, C.D.’s guests were primarily his relatives: first cousin Henry Artis Jr. and his sisters and first cousin Hannah Artis Randolph.)