| Browse >> |
|
Search >> |
|
Articles & FAQs It All Hinged on a Brackett
Five hundred thousand. Half a million. Red, White, Blue, Green, Black, Yellow, Mauve. Small, Little, Large, Great, Gross. East, West, North, South. Yard, Garden, Street, Road. Church, Castle, Palas, House. Names. Half a million names. Names for agriculturalists: Cowhead. Bull. Bristle. Pig. Sheep. Shearer. Crook. Corn. Wheat. Oats. Names for ornithologists: Finch. Pheasant. Starling. Hawk. Pigeon. Crow. Quail. Partridge. Nightingale. Owl. Names for anglers and wilflife specialists: Fish. Cod. Perch. Roach. Haddock. Bass. Trout. Cougar. Wolf. Or if you prefer vegetation, how about Flowers? Bloom? Blossom? Bracken? Poppie? Crabtree? Acorn? Willow? Hedge? Birch? Oak? Are you a collector? Stone? Rock? Diamond? Garnet? Agat? Silver? Gold? Like to pick your own? There’s always Apple, Pear, Grape or Cherry. Or do you prefer the downright absurd? How about Bumgarden and Glasscock? Frederick Bumgarden and T. Glasscock arrived in San Francisco in 1850. F. Glasscock arrived there two years later. I’d poured over Filby and Meyer’s Passenger and Immigration Lists Index for a year examining ship passenger arrival listings and immigration records to the Americas and West Indies from 1600 to 1899. I knew that my great, great, great grandfather, John Toliver Cox, had made his way from South Carolina to Georgia, from Georgia to Arkansas and then on to Texas. From there he took a ship to Panama, walked across the Isthmus and boarded a square-rigged bark, Emily for California in the 1800s, thanks to the diligent genealogical efforts of several Cox cousins in the States. As the journey on a bark took twice as long as a steamer, a ticket for bark passage cost a fraction of the steamer price. My mother was a great collector of family clippings as well, and a black leatherbound book held ancient newspaper clippings pertaining to uncountable members of our family. In one of the clippings I’d read that John Toliver Cox was a minister of the Methodist Episcopal Church South and was known in California in the 1850s as the ‘famous Father Cox’. I imagined him exhorting the faithful in a flowing crimson bishop’s gown in a spacious sanctuary. Marble altar. Beeswax candles. Cedarwood incense. Golden crucifix. The lot. However, I also knew that his daughter, Mary Adeline Cox, married one Seth Toney who captained a wagon train from Texas to California along the Santa Fe Trail at a time when few wagon trains made it safely across. My aunts, Aunt Marion and Aunt Rose, told me that Seth Toney was Indian. (My own grandfather, Elmer Wiley Toney, spoke three American Indian languages, English, Spanish, and signed in an Indian hand language used by people from differing tribes to communicate. His cousins were tribally enrolled as members of the Eastern Cherokee.) Somehow the different images, one of a gentleman vicar in a bishop’s gown, and the other of his son-in-law, an Indian, crossing a formidable desert on a prairie schooner, just didn’t fit. Then, last month I obtained copies of Jeff Bowen’s Cherokee Descendents East (1996) and Emmet Starr’s History of the Cherokee and Their Legends and Folklore (1969) on interlibrary loan. (The Badische Landesbibliothek here in Karlsruhe is the main library for the county of Baden in southwest Germany. It’s a real gem.) Pouring through Cherokee Descendents East, Brackett struck me. In my fifty-five years of existence on planet earth, I have never yet met anyone with the name Brackett. Not once. Not ever. Of course, I’ve seen Hinge and Bracket on television. But that’s because I lived in England for thirty years, and England is one of the few (perhaps the only?) country in the world where a couple of drag queens who call themselves Hinge and Bracket are more popular as television evening entertainment than all of the American police series packed together. So Brackett struck me, forcefully at that. Not just one, but 48 of them. That’s how many Bracketts I discovered in Cherokee Descendents East. Bracketts who were enrolled as Eastern Cherokee on the Guion Miller Roll in 1906. So, if in my 55 years of earthly existence I’d never yet met a Bracket, but in 1906 there were 48 of them who were entered on the Guion Miller Roll, then it seemed to me that Brackett might not be such an uncommon Eastern Cherokee name. And that’s when I turned back to Filby and Meyer and the half million ship passenger listings and immigration records. There on the page before me, page 198 of the first volume (there are three) of the first edition to be precise, were 10 double-t Bracketts and another 6 single-t Brackets. A grand total of sixteen. Eight of the listings were for half a dozen people who arrived in New England between 1620 and 1650. Anthony and Thomas entered through Rhode Island, while Peter and Richard landed on Massachusetts’ shore. A second Anthony apparently reached Connecticut, and three Williams landed in New Hampshire (in 1630, in 1631 and one wihtout a date). A century later, in the mid 1700s two Daniels (1748 and 1749) and a Mary (1768) arrived. Their destination is simply indicated as America, with no hint of their port of entry. Subtract the eleven listings mentioned above, and that leaves us with five. And all five are recorded as ship passengers entering San Francisco between 1850 and 1852. In 1850, O. Brackett, L. Bracket and J. Bracket entered San Francisco on pages 91, 135 and 165 in the San Francisco Ship Passenger Lists (Rasmussen 1978). H.N. Bracket (Rasmussen 1978: 78) and Mrs. Brackett (Rasmussen 1978: 122) arrived in 1852. I’d already heard of a group of California Cherokee when I came across their website on the internet. Was it possible that a number of Cherokee had migrated to California in the mid 1800s, I asked myself. And if so, who? I turned to Emmet Starr’s classic text, History of the Cherokee and Their Legends and Folklore (1921, reprinted in 1969). According to Emmet Starr, Ludovic Grant was the first white man, said to be a Scot, to marry into the Cherokee tribe, and the Ghi-ga-u, a Beloved Woman of the Cherokees, married Bryan Ward. Foster was an early interpreter for the Cherokee and there are a number of Fosters listed in Starr. William Charles Rogers, John Ross and William Potter Ross were ‘Principal Chiefs’ while John Brown was a ‘Principal Chief of the Western Cherokees.’ Additionally, Grant, Ward, Rogers, and Ross are listed as ‘Old Families’ (Starr 1969: 673). So I started searching passenger listings for Grant, Ward, Rogers, Ross, Foster and Brown. Sure enough, I found them. They arrived in San Francisco. Close to Bracketts. In 1850, a Foster without a first name arrived on page 90 while a Rogers without a first name arrived on the following page with O. Brackett (Rasmussen 1978: 91). A.B., D.J. and James O. Grant arrived on page 92, and D. Ross and Miss Grant on page 93. While J. Bracket arrived on page 165 with a no-first-name Foster, S. Foster and M.L. Brown arrived on page 164. W. Brown arrived on page 166. In 1852, there were also simultaenous arrivals. Ten Browns (Rasmussen 1978: 76-80) and A.H. Rogers (Rasmussen 1978: 79) arrived with H.N. Brackett (Rasmussen 1978: 78). Yet more Browns (Rasmussen 1978: 123-124), N.R. Ross (Rasmussen 1978: 124) and E.W. Ward (Rasmussen 1978: 124) arrived close to Mrs. W. Brackett on page 122 (Rasmussen 1978). But Ward, Ross, Rogers, Brown, Grant and Foster are not uncommon names. It’s not so surprising that they appear on the same pages, or near, Bracketts arriving in San Francisco between 1850 and 1852. So then I looked at a few more. William Hicks, Reverend Lewis Downing , Joel Bryan Mayes and Thomas Mitchell Buffington were ‘Principal Chiefs of the Cherokees’. John Bowles was a ‘Principal Chief of the Western Cherokees’. Attacullaculla’s uncle was the Uku, or Fire King. As he was lame, he was known to the English as Old Hop (Wright 1992: 103), and Old Hop’s descendents were later referred to as Hopper (interview with Hopper descendent of Old Hop). So I searched for Hicks, Downing, Mayes, Buffington, Bowles and Hopper next. Again they arrived along with Bracketts. M. Bowles arrived in 1850 with J. Bracket (Rasmussen 1978: 165). In 1852 W. Downing (Rasmussen 1978: 76), C. Hopper (Rasmussen 1978: 77), and M.S. Hicks (Rasmussen 1978: 77) arrived with H.J. Bracket (Rasmussen 1978: 78), while James Mays (Rasmussen 1978: 121) arrived with Mrs. W. Brackett (Rasmussen 1978: 122). From half a million records, there was a single entry for Buffington. You guessed it. J.M. Buffington entered San Francisco in 1852 (Rasmussen 1978: 114) between H.N. Bracket (Rasmussen 1978: 78) and Mrs. W. Brackett (Rasmussen 1978: 122). Eureka! I’m onto something here, I thought. But then again I had misgivings. Those names aren’t so unusual. As perseverance is one of my sterling qualities, I decided to look for a few more. George Guest (Guess or Gist) was Sequoyah’s English name. Thomas Candy (Starr 1969: 122), Going Snake (Starr 1969: 105) and Beaver Carrier (Starr 1969: 106) were prominent signatories of treaties and letters. Glass was President (Starr 1969: 75), while Turtle at Home was Speaker of the Council (Starr 1969: 42). Major Ridge, a full blood Cherokee of the Deer clan (Starr 1969: 112), and his son and nephew, John Ridge and Elias Boudinot (Starr 1969: 113) were ‘instrumental in making the treaty of 1835’ (Starr 1969: 112). They were murdered on 22 June 1839 for their part in the Cherokee removal (Starr 1969: 113). Those names were there beside the San Francisco Bracketts as well. In 1850 J.A. Glass (Rasmussen 1978: 134) arrived with L. Bracket (Rasmussen 1978: 135). Z. Guest (Rasmussen 1978: 79) arrived with H.N. Bracket (Rasmussen 1978: 78) in 1852. Although there is neither a Turtle at Home nor a Going Snake recorded entering San Francisco, in 1850 C.G. Going (Rasmussen 1978: 28) arrived with Maj. Candy (Rasmussen 1978: 27). (Maj. is probably short for Major, a popular Cherokee first name at the time.) And a no-first-name Home arrived with T. Heepoez (Rasmussen 1978: 36), while A. Home arrived with T. Glasscock (Rasmussen 1978: 86). In 1852, J. Beaver arrived on page 158 and J.Q.A. Carrier arrived on page 29 (Rasmussen 1978), which reminded me of Beaver Carrier on page 106 of Emmet Starr (Starr 1969). Out of half a million records, there are only two entries for Bude. F.D. Bude (Rasmussen 1978: 69) arrived with C. Ridge (Rasmussen 1978: 70) in 1852. As Elias Boudinot and John Ridge were cousins and advocates of removal, later murdered for their part in the ‘Trail of Tears’, it is not unlikely that their families were connected in some way. N. Bude, another possible relative of Elias Boudinot, arrived in 1852 along with Thomas Buffalo and W.R. Axe (Rasmussen 1978: 154). There is no other Buffalo listed in the half million ship passenger arrivals and immigration records. No Thomas Buffalo ever left the shores of England. Nor Scotland. Nor Germany. Nor France. But Bude is not the same as Boudinot. Why write ‘Bude’ instead of ‘Boudinot’, I asked myself. The Cherokee were highly literate, but they used Sequoyah’s ‘talking leaves’ or syllabary and were unaccustomed to the Roman alphabet. The Treaty Between the Commissioners on Behalf of the Provisional Government of Texas and the Cherokee Indians and Twelve Associated Tribes (Starr 1969: 204) was dated 13 November 1835 and signed by Colonel Bowl, Big Mush, Samuel Benge, Oozotva, Corn Tassell and Fox Fields. None of them wrote their names in English, but rather signed with their marks, an X (Starr 1969: 205). In the light of this, it seems within the realms of possibility that F.D. Bude (Rasmussen 1978: 69) and N. Bude (Rasmussen 1978: 154) were related to Elias Boudinot. And whatever happened to John Toliver Cox? Well, smack dab in the middle of all these entries I found one J.T. Cox. My great, great, great grandfather, John Toliver, I suspect. He entered San Francisco on page 143 along with A. Ross and W. Ross (Rasmussen 1978). But there was still one important name missing: Vann. James Vann was a ‘half-blood’ and the richest man in the Cherokee Nation in 1800 (Wright 1992: 208). There are more than 90 Vanns listed in the genealogy section between pages 305 and 468 in History of the Cherokee Indians and Their Legends and Folklore alone. Yet there is not a single Vann in the half million ship passenger listings and immigration records (Rasmussen 1978). And that’s when I turned to extracts from two book which my Cox cousins sent me: California Sketches, New and Old by Bishop O.P. Fitzgerald (1895) and The History of Southern Methodism on the Pacific Coast by the Reverend J. C. Simmons (1896), published by the Methodist Episcopal Church South in Nashville, Tennessee. (Thank you Barbara, Leona, Sharon, Cherie, Marlin!) Father Cox weighed three hundred pounds. ‘The early part of his life was spent in the service of sin’ (Simmons 1896: 173). H’d been the ‘keeper of a doggery’ (Fitzgerald 1895: 61). So you can forget about the bishop’s robes right now. He was an itinerant preacher, a man without formal education, and he preached at camp meetings at Souquel and in the Bodega Hills. He was at the ‘first Toll-gate Camp-meeting, near the city of San Jose’ (Simmons 1896: 176). About 1858, he was called by ‘Uncle Ben’, Rev. B.R. Johnson, to a camp meeting in Napa Valley ‘near the village of St. Helena’ (Simmons 1896: 181). When he arrived, he was taken to Brother Vann’s tent for refreshment (Simmons 1896: 182). Father Vann, ‘old and blind’ was also there. And so was Uncle Charley Hopper, ‘an old hunter whose paths Fremont followed’ (Simmons 1896, 183). So there were the missing Vanns. And there was Charley Hopper. A descendent of Old Hop, I suspect. According to Rev. Simmons, Father Cox ‘had a marvelous command of the English language’ (Simmons 1896: 184-5), something I only ever bother to mention about someone if English is their second language rather than their first. And that reminded me how my mother always corrected our English. My father’s, my sister’s, mine. ‘It’s important to speak good English. You’ve got to speak good English,’ she maintained all her life. Father Cox died within ten years of his conversion. ‘Deficient, according to the strict letter of technical education, still he was learned in theology, men, and things’ (Simmons 1896: 184). He was a ‘fine judge of human nature’ (Fitzgerald 1896: 61). ‘Coming in at the eleventh hour and dying before very old, he did the work of a whole life’ (Simmons 1896: 184). John C. Simmons knew him. He ‘seemed to be the father of us all,’ he said. John Toliver Cox died in Bodega. He’d been born in South Carolina about 1800. He lived in Georgia, but left for Arkansas before the Trail of Tears. His next stop was Texas, From there he travelled to California with migrating Cherokee. He’s buried in California, in the Bodega Hills. Beneath a yellow madrona tree.  Bibliography Bowen, Jeff. Cherokee Descendents East, Volume I. Signal Mountain, Tennesseee: Mountain Press 1996. Filby, P. William with Mary K. Meyer. Passenger and Immigration Lists Index, A Guide to Published Arrival Records of about 500,000 Passengers Who Came to the United States and Canada in the Seventeenth, Eighteenth, and Nineteenth Centuries, Volumes I-III. First Edition. Detroit: Gale Research Company 1981. Fitzgerald, Bishop O.P. California Sketches, New and Old. Nashville: Methodist Episcopal Church South Publishing Co. 1895. Rasmussen, Louis J. San Francisco Ship Passenger Lists. Volume I. Baltimore: Genealogical Publihsing Co. 1978 Simmons, Rev. J.C. The History of Southern Methodism on the Pacific Coast. Nashville: Methodist Episcopal Church South Publishing Co. 1896. Starr, Emmet. History of the Cherokee Indians and Their Legends and Folklore. New York: Kraus Reprint Co. 1969. |
|
|
|
|
