Like many in his time period, John Wilkinson frequently moved. This map documents his lengthy migration.
“The period between the Revolution and the Civil War, when most of the westward migration occurred, is the most difficult period of all in which to trace ancestors.”
~DAVID CURTIS DEARBORN, FASG Reference Librarian, New England Historic Genealogical Society
Genealogists often have difficulty tracking their ancestors in the years between 1790 and 1850. Many give up. The most obvious reason is that the requirements for the federal census changed radically between 1840 and 1850. I have heard some genealogists tell others that the censuses taken before 1850 are of little value for family research. How wrong they are!
Another factor adding to the difficulty of tracking ancestors during this period is the huge migration that took place between 1795 and 1812—the greatest movement of peoples America had known. Overcrowding in New England, soil depletion in the South, and the pioneer spirit of those in the Mid-Atlantic states pushed people westward to the Appalachians until the War of 1812.
Scarcely was the last shot fired in that war when the movement began again, this time on an even grander scale. The lake plains of Indiana, Illinois, and Michigan; the Gulf Plains of western Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi; and the trans-Mississippi frontier all experienced immense growth from 1814 to 1839. The people were restless, always looking for greener grass and new opportunities. Unfortunately, keeping accurate records for future genealogists was not a priority for them.
John Wilkinson was a typical pioneer of this period. He was a jack-of-all-trades of Ulster Scot heritage, with a limited education and even more limited aspirations. He was unusual, however, in that he wrote an autobiography in his old age. He began writing in 1861, tracing the nineteen moves he made from his birth in 1793 in Greene County, North Carolina (now Tennessee), to his Missouri residence in 1867. Image A illustrates the relocations of just this one man.
Like many in his time period, John Wilkinson frequently moved. This map documents his lengthy migration.
Some of your ancestors may have been as restless as John. The surprising thing is that (other than in 1800 and 1810, when John lived in eastern Tennessee where census records have been lost), he can be found in every census from 1820 through 1860—if you know where to look! See image B.
Despite his frequent movement, I found John Wilkinson in every census from 1820 to 1860.
Each pioneer family’s story is different, but there are certain factors that genealogists should consider when researching pre-1850 ancestors. The sections that follow detail some of the key motivating factors that impacted these individuals’ decisions.
Image C is a “hardiness” map from a gardening book that shows shaded bands running somewhat parallel across the country (developed by Arnold Arboretum, Harvard University, Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts). The bands mark zones that indicate temperature variations, especially the expected highs and lows, so that the farmer or gardener can determine what kinds of flowers, vegetables, and crops are likely to best grow there. These bands are called life zones. Demographers have found that before 1850, people seldom moved more than two life zones from their original location. In other words, someone living in upstate New York probably would not move to southern Missouri.
Different crops prospered in different areas of the United States. This “hardiness” map indicates climate/temperature regions throughout the country, and it helped farmers and gardeners figure out which agricultural products to plant. Farmers typically moved to areas with a similar climate.
Who is most likely to move to southern Missouri and northern Arkansas? People from Tennessee, Kentucky, western Virginia, and western North Carolina. The reasons are logical. Farmers from those areas would know how to make a living in southwest Missouri. They could expect the same climate, so they could bring seeds to grow the same plants and use the same tools. Where did the people from upstate New York move? This map makes it clear: northern Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Michigan. Where did those from South Carolina and Georgia move? Into the opening territories of Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana.
I found the theory that people geographically stick to what they know fascinating. But being from Missouri, the “show me” state, I couldn’t just take the demographers’ word for it. So I performed two tests. First, I surveyed the three volumes of Virgil D. White’s Genealogical Abstracts of Revolutionary War Pension Files (Waynesboro, Tennessee: National Historical Publishing Company, 1990–1992). I randomly selected fifty pensioners to determine where they served during the war, and where they applied for their pensions. Image D shows a map detailing their migration patterns.
After researching fifty Revolutionary War pensioners, I put together this map, which shows each of their migrations. Compare this map with image C, and you’ll see most migrated to climate zones similar to their own.
Next, I surveyed 838 pioneers of southwest Missouri. In their move to Missouri, only two men moved more than just one life zone from where they previously lived. One was a doctor who had been born in Massachusetts; he migrated first to Vermont, then to Ohio before coming to Missouri. The second was a lawyer from Hartford, Connecticut. The reason for these deviations from the norm is simple: Neither man depended on the land for his source of income. Three people came from more than two life zones away, but one was from Ireland, one from Canada, and one from southern Alabama. Interestingly, the family from southern Alabama did not fare well in Missouri. After the deaths of several family members, they moved to southern Arkansas and northern Texas.
Few job opportunities, exhausted soil, the breakup of large land holdings, and overextended credit all were economic conditions that could push our ancestors from their communities. Land available on credit or for low capital investment, the need for extra hands on frontier farms, and the need for blacksmiths, tanners, merchants, and wheelwrights in new towns were conditions that could pull people who were economically strapped toward a new community. A good researcher should become familiar with the history of major economic “booms” and “busts” on both the national and local levels. Although the Panic of 1837 created major problems in the east during the late 1830s, the resulting hard times did not reach some areas in the middle of the country until the early 1840s.
Economic disparity often drove migrants to territory where they could purchase and develop land. We’ll discuss this motivation (including the land policies that allowed it) in the next section.
The third element to consider in studying frontier migrations is the distance between the old location and the new. One example involves the opening of what previously had been Cherokee territories until after the treaties of 1817 and 1819. People who lived in central Tennessee and western North Carolina flocked to the southwest section of Tennessee and the northern part of Alabama. It was new, virgin territory, often only a short distance from where they had lived. The opening of the Chickasaw territory in western Tennessee provides another example. Migration into Iowa from Illinois and northern Missouri when the Iowa Territory opened constitutes a third example. The period between the War of 1812 and 1850 involves dozens of such cases. From what region did many of the people who lived in the newly opened area come?
In the vast majority of cases, you can find an individual’s origins by tracking the origins of his neighbors and associates. Sometimes that’s the only way you can track them, because some individuals simply do not create enough records in their lifetime in either community to definitely identify them. But, by placing one person within a community of others who have recently moved into a pioneer neighborhood, you can usually find enough records produced by the others to identify the individual you seek.
Sometimes it takes the identification of a number of connected individuals before you can find the one with records that can provide the information you need. You probably won’t encounter anyone who jumps out of the records and hollers, “Here I am, the one individual out of the thirty who is going to prove significant to you as you try to find the home of Andrew Hayes.” Instead, you must patiently review, analyze, and distill the data until that pivotal individual or record appears. You may have to stop and turn around on a number of paths before you finally see a signpost that will point you in the right direction.
People began traveling farther across the continent when they began experiencing the same economic conditions that had pushed their parents out of the eastern states a generation earlier. Pulls came from as far away as Texas, Oregon, and California in the late 1840s and early 1850s. Sometimes people “hopscotched” across the country, remaining just a few years in one location before moving on to the next. Hopscotching became impossible, however, when the trail led west across the “great American desert” and the Rocky Mountains; there was no place to stop.
How did people travel during the time your ancestor was moving from one place to another? Become familiar with both land and water routes, and the geographic barriers your ancestor would have had to overcome. Study the modes of transportation that would have been available to him.
The fourth element to consider in examining migrations is the personal and social motivations behind them. These might include the death of parents and subsequent division of property, the “honeymoon migrations” of young people wanting to start off on their own, or the desire to maintain the “clan” system by keeping a family together. Sometimes entire church congregations moved together. Debt, personal obligations, and legal entanglements motivated many individuals to leave their homes, and more than a few unhappy marriages ended by desertion.
Although a genealogist may begin by following general search principles, in order to find your particular needle in that vast haystack of frontier settlers, you will need to employ some more specific techniques.
There is no single, surefire method for locating ancestors from the early 1800s. What may work beautifully in one case might fail miserably in another. In his will, Archibald C. Adams left land in Bedford County, Tennessee, to his daughter, Mary Ann Sims. Thomas James paid a stud fee on 9 April 1835 in Madison County, Tennessee, for breeding his mare to a local stallion. The receipt was in his probate packet. But I have examined hundreds of other probate records that don’t give the slightest clues as to origins. Two probate records helped me locate the prior origins of frontier settlers.
Some deeds are wonderful. Richard Brown made a deed of gift to his children in White County, Tennessee, in 1828, and then recorded it in Missouri in 1843. David Stockton didn’t sell his land in Meigs County, Tennessee, until after his arrival in Missouri in 1839. It’s exciting to find one of these deeds. On the other hand, I have examined literally thousands of deeds over several years and only a few have provided these keystones to prior origins. There are no shortcuts, no magic documents. You find clues; then like Hansel and Gretel, you follow the crumbs down the forest path. The following are five methods that have worked well for me.
The most difficult people to locate before 1850 are those born between 1800 and 1820. If they moved west as young men, you are unlikely to find them listed as heads of households in an earlier census in their previous community. When you are looking for the origins of a young adult who was new to the frontier, you must connect him to an older person living in the same frontier community. It doesn’t have to be a father; it can be a mother (beware: sometimes this may be a remarried mother with a new surname), father-in-law, mother-in-law, uncle, brother, brother-in-law, or minister.
Older adults tend to create more records than younger ones. In addition to being listed as heads of households in censuses, older people were more likely to buy and sell land, more likely to be administrators and executors of estates, more likely to be involved in court actions as witnesses or bondsmen, and more likely to have participated in some event that makes them eligible for federal benefits.
One of the best methods of finding connections to older individuals is to study the probate records of the community in which your young ancestor was living. For whom was your ancestor the executor, administrator, or guardian? Read the probate minutes and loose probate files for the earliest time period in which your ancestor lived in a community. This will reveal those connections that can yield valuable clues.
Another method is to study deeds—not just for obvious clues like the ones I mentioned above, but for more subtle ones. If your ancestor purchased land from someone, did he buy at the going rate, or did he seem to get a particularly good deal? In other words, could the transaction have been more like a gift from a relative?
If your ancestor fell into debt, who stood as security on his note? Older people usually had more money than younger people, and usually were considered more reliable and responsible. Who would trust your ancestor enough to lend him money or agree to make good on his debts?
After you make a connection to an older person, try tracking that person. Three situations in my research can serve as examples. Joseph Akard and James M. Pike of Missouri were the administrators for their fathers, who were heads of households in 1830 in Tennessee. Likewise, Henry Collier administered the estate of his father-in-law, Samuel Dixon. In Samuel’s probate packet was an unpaid bill from a merchant in Perry County, Illinois. And Anthony Ayres was located because he administered the estate of Mary Bewley. That probate file revealed that Catharine Bewley had relinquished her right to administer the estate of her daughter, Mary, “in favor of her son-in-law, Anthony Ayres.” Many researchers study only the probate records of their ancestors. Ignoring the probate records created by others in the community can be a fatal error.
Sometimes the clues to relationships with older individuals are more subtle. For example, Jacob Alderman bought forty acres in 1838 in Polk County, Missouri. In the 1840 census, he was listed as head of a household with one male under age five, two males age five to ten, two males age ten to fifteen, one male age forty to fifty, one female age five to ten, and one female age twenty to thirty. He was the only man of that surname living in the county. In 1845, Jacob and his wife, Lucy, sold this forty acres to Richard Brown. Jacob Alderman paid taxes in Polk County in 1841, 1844, and 1848. Charles and Hiram Alderman were taxed in 1844. Hiram was underage at that time. By 1848, Jacob was over fifty-five years of age. From all this information, we can deduce that he must have been born about 1792. No probate or marriages under the name of Alderman were located in Polk County. By the 1850 census, Jacob Alderman must have left the community, although I cannot find him in the 1850 census indexes for Missouri, Oregon, California, Arkansas, or Texas (all likely migration spots), nor does he appear on any Internet databases.
However, there was a significant deed recorded on the page following the record of Jacob’s sale to Richard Brown. It was made on the same day for an adjoining parcel, forty acres sold by Charles Bolt Sr. He was listed next to Jacob Alderman in the 1840 census. Was he still in Polk County for the 1850 census? No, but Charles Bolt Jr. was. He was listed as age fifty-five, born in Virginia. It is difficult to tell when Charles Bolt Jr. left Virginia because the oldest child in his home, age fourteen, was born in Illinois. Although there were no marriages in Polk County for anyone named Alderman, a Mary Bolt had married Thomas E. Wright there in 1839. In 1850, she was recorded as living in adjoining Dallas County, age twenty-eight, born in Virginia.
My next step was to check the 1830 Virginia census, combining the names Bolt and Alderman. I found both in the record for Montgomery County, which listed the following as heads of households on p. 51: Charles Bolt Sr., Charles Bolt Jr. and Jacob Alderman. Marriage records clinched it: Jacob Alderman married 25 April 1822 Lucy Bott [sic], daughter of Charles Bott.
How do you find your ancestor’s relatives? You reconstruct relationships by looking for the people your ancestor cared about during his lifetime, those on whom he depended and who depended upon him. Start by looking for connections in the community where the individual lived. Study all the records that he produced, and write down the names of the people with whom he associated. At first, it may appear that these names represent many unrelated individuals, but a pattern will eventually emerge. Then find the records that those people created, and search them carefully for the tiny breadcrumbs that will lead you through the forest.
According to the 1850 census in Greene County, Missouri, James Murry was born in 1809 in Tennessee. He married Jane [—?—], born about 1811 in Tennessee. A lot of people named Murry lived in Tennessee. In fact, there were eighty-three Murrys listed as heads of households there in 1830. James was not likely to be a head of household in 1830, since he would have been just twenty-one, and his eldest child was born in 1831.
I looked a long time for James Murry’s origins outside of Missouri, examining a lot of the records he created as well as records for all the other Murry families in Greene County, Missouri. The key to James’s origin was a very small one. On the 1843 Greene County tax list, James Murry was administrator of the estate of Jonathan Douglas, holding $1,100 at interest for which he had to pay a tax. Who was Jonathan Douglas? He did not appear in the census or any other earlier records I located. I had never seen the name in connection with any other family I studied in Greene County.
I examined Douglas’s probate file—a very small packet. It revealed that Jonathan Douglas was planning to move to Missouri but became ill while on a scouting trip. James Murry cared for Jonathan from the time of his illness until his burial. Upon submitting his bill for this responsibility to the court in 1842, James Murry applied for administration of Jonathan Douglas’s estate. Those papers stated that administration also was granted for Jonathan’s estate in Monroe County, Tennessee. I immediately went to the Monroe County census for 1830. There was Jonathan Douglas—and several households away, James Murry.
All kinds of new records subsequently opened up, including a trail leading toward James’s parents. So, James Murry was head of household in 1830. Yes, I know now that I could have examined just the census records of the five men named James Murry in the 1830 Tennessee index, and I might have found the one I wanted. But without his connection to Jonathan Douglas, how could I have been certain that I had found my James Murry?
Usually the clues to reconstructing relationships are not as subtle as in this case. Other questions you might ask include: Who were the sponsors at family baptisms? Who helped establish the local church at the same time as your ancestor? Who were the guardians for his children? Who did his daughters marry? Who supported his pension or bounty land application?
You may find it necessary to reconstruct a whole family before you can find its origins in a prior community. In the process of reconstruction, you probably will find names of associates that can help you identify a former residence. By reconstructing families, you can learn the relative ages of its members and determine how the dependents should fall into the age categories of various census records. If you reconstruct the family in a later time period and determine all the children who survived to adulthood, those same children should appear in the parent’s household in earlier decades.
Let’s look at an example: the family of William Jenkins. In 1837, William Jenkins purchased 160 acres in section 21, township 30, range 21 of Greene County, Missouri. After pinpointing his location, we need to get an idea of his age. William Jenkins appeared as head of household in the 1840 federal census, listed between Thomas J. Whitlock and Columbus Williamson. His household consisted of two males age five to ten, one male age ten to fifteen, one male age fifteen to twenty, one male age twenty to thirty, one male age fifty to sixty, one female age ten to fifteen, one female age fifteen to twenty, one female age twenty to thirty, and one female age forty to fifty.
What do we now know about this family? That it included an older man who apparently had a living wife and several children. Because of the ages of the children, we can surmise that William was nearer the age of fifty than forty. We know the names of two neighbors, Whitlock and Williamson.
At the time of the 1850 census, William Jenkins was still in Greene County, listed in dwelling #551. He was sixty-six years old, born in Georgia. His wife Susan, age sixty-one, was born in North Carolina. The children then living with them had been born in Kentucky: William W., age twenty-seven; Willfred, age twenty-five; Edward, age twenty-one; and James W. and Irvin W., both age nineteen.
From this information, we deduce that the family should have been living in Kentucky in 1830, and at least three of their children should be on that census. But because there was more than one Jenkins family who met the criteria, it would be quicker and more reliable for us to reconstruct the family in Missouri before we move our search back into Kentucky.
I used the following sources to reconstruct the family: marriage records, cemetery inscriptions, probate records, deeds, local histories, and newspapers.
Let’s look at each family member and see what the records tell us that can help us determine their origins. William’s wife was Susan [—?—]. (We’re lucky that Susan is an easier name to search than Sarah or Mary!) We know Susan’s approximate age and her birthplace. From her age, we know that she could have been the mother of all the children. Because the family was from Kentucky, she should have signed deeds releasing her dower. Now let’s look at the children.
Two other children were born after 1830, so they would not figure in our reconstruction.
Let’s recheck the 1840 census and see if the ages are consistent with what we have learned to be sure we have the right family. Have we accounted for all the dependents?
Except for William Jr., everyone fits in the category where they should. Census ages are rarely exact from decade to decade, so we must make some allowances.
Now, instead of searching the 1830 census for a William Jenkins with three known dependents, we are looking for a man with seven dependents—possibly eight, if we count Dominick, who was said to be the oldest.
There were five men who were head of household in Kentucky in 1830 named William Jenkins, but now only one Jenkins household fits the proper configuration; it was in Caldwell County.
It looks like a match! Making this connection opened me up to even more records. On 12 May 1836, William and Susanna Jenkins sold to James L. Priest land on Eddy Creek for $1000. The marriage book recorded that Caroline Jenkins married C.C. Williamson 4 March 1834 in Caldwell County. Additional deeds led to William’s father, John Jenkins, and all of William’s brothers and sisters. Not only did I find William, but C.C. Williamson as well (Caldwell County Kentucky Deed Book H:185).
More than any other method, identifying and locating my ancestor’s associates led me to the correct origins of the families that I was researching. Associates often turn out to be family, but even if they do not, they may lead you to the people and the places you seek.
No record is too obscure or insignificant to offer a vital clue. Ordinary researchers scan records looking for the genealogical “headlines”—the big nuggets rather than the tiny kernels—and in doing so, they often miss important details. Excellent researchers, on the other hand, never let a clue slip through their fingers. Let’s look at an example.
Greenberry Adams was an ordinary man, one who created very few records in the fifteen years he lived in Greene County, Missouri. I will not list all the records that I checked where he did not appear. All I knew was that according to the 1850 census, he was born in 1803 in Tennessee. His wife was Sarah [—?—]. His elder children were born in Tennessee, placing him there between 1831 and 1832, but he was not listed as head of household there in 1830. There were, however, plenty named Adams. I could start searching all of them, but what would I find? Too many slash marks that wouldn’t mean a thing. So I had to go back to Missouri, where I knew who Greenberry was.
On the nonalphabetized tax list of Greene County, Greenberry was listed between James H.M. Smith and John T. Williams. (Smith, Adams, Williams. Was this a conspiracy? I was beginning to feel persecuted by so many common names!) Greenberry had moved from the county by 1856, leaving no clue as to his destination. I found only one county land record for Greenberry.
On 10 January 1843, Green B. Adams mortgaged to Jasper Ruyle, for $5, “land on which he then lived on an unsurveyed township and range,” as well as one sorrel mare seven years old, one iron grey colt, three cows, and two calves, if Jasper Ruyle agreed to stand security on a promissory note given to Samuel Asher on 21 July 1831 for $43.75. Green B. was also indebted to Jasper Ruyle for $27.68 that he had borrowed 15 October 1841. There was no release on the mortgage, found in Greene County, Missouri, Deed Book C:104-105.
This land record has three significant clues for the genealogist.
Jasper Ruyle was not a difficult man to find. He had come to Greene County with his parents and large extended family from Wilson County, Tennessee, and had descendants remaining in Missouri. I checked the records in Wilson County, Tennessee. Greenberry Adams had married Sarah Perriman there. Her family also had come to southwest Missouri. So, Greenberry had come with his wife’s family. Once I knew which county to look in, I found that Greenberry had sold his land in Tennessee in October 1833, which beautifully coincided with his appearance on the tax list of Greene County, Missouri, in 1834.
When you can identify your ancestor’s friends and associates, begin following the trail of clues that connects them to each other. Carefully analyze each record that you find. As I have demonstrated, sometimes the clues are obscure, so the trail may not be obvious—but I can almost guarantee that one exists.