Showing posts with label history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label history. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

last scion?

Procrastinating pretty hard today.

For some reason, I've been thinking about this lately: in several generations of my family, I am the only male bearer of the name 'Haun'.

How many generations, you ask? Well, I spent the last 20 minutes trying to clear that up. I'll write it down now, and get back to work.

Of course, what does a patrilineal line really matter? Just because it's a thing, I guess. There's the whole Y-chromosome thing, but that's pretty uncertain anyways, what with adoptions and such. We'll just go with the name, as a sign, as the thing that we know is inherited.

I have one sibling, a sister. So, that's generation one.

My father is David; David has one brother, James. James has three daughters, no sons. So, I have no male patrilineal first cousins. That's generation two.

My father's father was James; James had two sisters, no brothers. So, I have no male patrilineal second cousins. That's generation three.

My father's father's father was Yandell. Yandell had five sisters, no brothers. No male patrilinear third cousins: that's me alone in generation four.

My father's father's father's father was Robert. Robert had two elder brothers. All three were born in the 1830's and 40's. The eldest, Charles, died at age 24, in 1862, possibly in the Civil War, though I don't know if Tennessee Unionists were dying yet in 1862. The second brother, Caleb Powell, had two sons; each of these had sons; and as far as I know, there are at least a few of their grandsons and great grandsons and great-great grandsons (my generation). So, I may have some male patrilineal fourth cousins - but I don't know of any of them, and can't know for sure.

So, we'll say that in at least four generations, I am the last male heir of Robert Franklin Haun, born in the 1840s in Jefferson County, Tennessee. My nearest patrilineal male relative in the same generation is thus no closer than a fourth cousin - we have to go back at least 140 years before my birth to find that fork in the road.

The Road of Haun.

Friday, April 05, 2013

ancestral geography

 
I've not been working on this too much, but I took a couple of hours yesterday to fill in another space in my records, and then I got the idea to make the figure you see here. The tree plot is a map of all my known ancestors, with their distances from the center scaled to their birth years, relative to my birth year of 1979. Red lines are women, blue lines are men. The rings are labeled as to year.

The colored backgrounds indicate - by correspondence with the geographical map on the right - where these people were born, or at least where they spent their early lives. Where they combined to produce the next generation tells you, more or less, where they wound up.

The dominant region is clearly West Tennessee, whence hailed my mother's mother's people and my father's father's people, going back to before the Civil War (the double ring). My mother and many of her father's people came from Southeast Tennessee, part of the crimson. My father's mother's father came from Michigan, just across the border from the source of most of his family in northern Indiana, indicated by the magenta.

There's a lot of northern South Carolina, in the region of Spartanburg and, just across the border in southern North Carolina in Mecklenburg county, indicated by the yellow. A branch of my mother's mother's family had come through Kentucky, the light green.

Middle Tennessee, the olive green, has generated a number of us, including a part of my mother's father's family (the ill-fated Lewis Morgan and his mother Nancy Sewell, who must have been in the first generation born in Nashville), and my father and myself at the center.

If you follow this further out (I stopped 6 generations back, at the four-greats grandparents level), everyone that I know of is in Virginia (you can see those touches of orange in the periphery), South Carolina, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, or Ireland. It is amazing what you can learn from the internet!

Thursday, March 07, 2013

A week later, and I'm still revising that previous post and investigating the identities of various great great etc grandparents. I'm not sure why, but I could guess; but I won't here.

Anyways, in reading about all these Morgans and Boatmans and so on, I've been experiencing a very entertaining picture of the American colonization of Tennessee. As far as I can tell, all of my ancestors around the time of the Civil War and in the preceding generation were in Tennessee or in the border regions with Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi. So, I am - and I guess I had never really thought of this - as much of a Tennesseean as a person can possibly be, if you qualify 'Tennessee' as the American colonial state, and not as the prior nations of the Cherokee, Chickasaw, and others.

'Colonial state' isn't what you normally hear as a description of a state like Tennessee. 'Pioneer' is usually the term, and certainly that's a good term for the people who were at the very forefront of the colonization, but colonization is absolutely the right word for the phenomenon. And in thinking about it this way, I can't help but understand it through the lens of what I had most recently been reading about: Rome.

Comparisons between Rome and the USA are passe, I know. But that's because the comparisons are usually negative, about degeneration and decadence, but like Matthew White says, that's kind of a recent thing. Earlier Americans were better able to see the parallels between what they were doing and with what the Romans had done in the days of the Republic: enlarging the republic through colonization.

So, I've had in my head the past few days a little comparison and contrast between the two phenomena. The simultaneous similarities and differences are most interesting.

1. The Romans had a single 'home' city. From there, they defeated surrounding tribes and set up new towns on the foundations of the defeated ones, and Romans went out and populated these places, building new cities in the image of Rome; so, Roman culture and language spread across Europe, but it was always tied back to Rome. With the Americans, it was different: there was a string of home cities along the Atlantic coast, from Boston down to Savannah. From these, colonists went west and defeated the local tribes and set up new towns on the foundations of old ones.

2. The initial phase of the Roman Republic, where the Italic and Etruscan tribes were conquered one-by-one, and where the Republic could kinda-sorta be identified with cisalpine Italy, could easily be likened to the pre-Revolutionary American colonial period, where the 13 colonies were consolidated east of the Appalachian mountains. The gradual transition between the Republican and Imperial periods - basically during the 9900's - was also a transition between Rome-as-Italy and Rome-as-Mediterranea. Similar, but much faster, was the transition between pre- and post-revolutionary America; no longer bound by British restrictions to the Eastern Province, the American colonization of the rest of the continent began, and so you have the Continental USA.

3. We're just at the end of that phase now, something like the Nervan dynasty of the 112th century. The borders are more-or-less set, the colonies are all established and mature, and everything is Roman/American within those bounds. But then, there's the third interesting contrast, and a more disturbing one: Roman colonies often, or probably usually, included a mostly indigenous population; Gauls and Belgians and Iberians and Germans and etc. There were enough Romans to make it so that everyone wound up speaking Roman in the end, but the Romans weren't genocidal and didn't practice ethnic cleansing as a rule. Americans, though... our colonies were established almost entirely by the white colonists and their black slaves. The native tribes - the American equivalents of Germans, Belgians, and Gauls were Mohawks, Apache, and Cherokee - had little impact on the colonies; they were absorbed on the fringes at first, and in the end they were exiled and excluded. Like I said up above, most of my ancestors arrived in Tennessee in the first generation or two of colonization, before the ethnic cleansing of the Cherokee and Chickasaw had happened, and while there was clearly a lot of mutual tolerance and intermarriage between the different societies, I don't think I have more than a percent or two of native ancestry. Their effect on the colonies was marginal, and then they were exiled.

I don't think the difference is that Romans were tolerant and Americans weren't. Romans were nasty people in a lot of ways. I think there were two important differences: First, there was a constant and inexhaustible supply of American colonists, coming in from England, Ireland, and elsewhere, whereas the Romans were limited by the numbers they already had in Rome and other big cities. So the Americans had a big positive multiplier to their numbers. Second, and this is more of a guess, there was a negative multiplier on the native Americans because of the century or so of plague that had destroyed their population and set their society in an inordinate degree of chaos; in contrast, the European tribes the Romans contended with hadn't been subjected to any terrible disasters or setbacks, they were just a little behind on the same curve as the Romans. With these two imbalances, the native Americans were overwhelmed too quickly, and so there wasn't time for the two groups to really learn to live together and combine. When differences arose, it was too easy for the whites just to force the Indians to leave, or as was the case earlier on, to exterminate them.

The Romans never could have forced all the Gauls out of France, just to end all the conflicts and yearly revolts and rebellions. The Roman military was strong enough to keep the Gauls from ever winning, but there were too many Gauls to drive out in a death march to Germany, and there wouldn't have been enough Romans to replace them anyways. The scenario just didn't make sense for the Romans, but it did for the Americans. Genocide was a viable alternative on the frontier. And so we have America, and Tennessee, and Me. Humanity is a difficult thing.

Sunday, March 03, 2013

RSM


I spent a good part of the past week Googling my ancestry,  trying to fill in the gaps in my grandmother's collected documentation of my mother's side of the family. What's most interesting about doing this is that it gives you a direct route to looking at history; you start with yourself, and trace backwards through people you knew, and people they knew that you didn't, and so on, and before you know it you're learning about the Civil War, or the southern pioneers, or the Revolution.

Looking at it this way, as a continuous route through history, you can almost start to see narratives, although you learn them backwards. Here I'll try to reconstruct one of them forwards: the recent history of my middle name, Morgan - or more specifically, of the legacy of the name Rufus Morgan. In the plot above (invented by me), this is the blue pathway leading directly left from below the center.

Rufus Morgan was born in 1751, in Springfield MA. His father Gideon, also of Springfield, died a year later at the age of 28. Rufus's mother Rachel Kibbe then had his name changed to Gideon Rufus, in memory of his father. Gideon the First's father and grandfather, both named Jonathan, had lived their entire lives in Springfield; his great-grandfather Miles Morgan was one of the founders of the town. The connection between elder and younger Gideon is actually contentious - the internet genealogy consensus maintains that Gideon Rufus's father was Samuel Morgan of Connecticut, who was a descendant of one of Miles Morgan's brothers. However, I am pretty sure the internet is wrong here; I have seen a photo of a document signed by Gideon's mother, where she requested his name be changed in memory of his father. Unless there were two Gideon Rufus Morgans in the area of Springfield, both born around 1751, and one disappeared from history, then I think they are the same, and Gideon came down from Miles.

So, Gideon Rufus was a Minuteman in the Revolutionary War, and after the war he started a career as a civil engineer, involved in the planning of new towns like Saratoga NY. He and his wife Patience Cogswell started their family in Connecticut, and gradually migrated south, through New York down to Staunton, Virginia, where Patience died and Gideon apparently resolved to keep going south with his children into East Tennessee, sometime around 1800. Maybe his father's early death, and his adventures as a Revolutionary War soldier, broke what had been a 150 year bond between that Morgan line and central New England.

As for Gideon II's migration to Tennessee: I'm guessing that they made their trip down the 'Great Wagon Road', along the valleys of the Applachian mountains, passing through Kingsport, and maybe following the Tennessee river from there to Fort Southwest Point. There, in the settlement of Kingston, west of what would become Knoxville, he set up a tavern and trading post, apparently becoming an important local figure in the frontier trade - and conflict - with the Cherokee.

Gideon had many sons:

The oldest, Luther Morgan, went further west and south, and was one of the first generation of white settlers in what became Huntsville, Alabama - his son married into the wealthy family of John Hunt, the city's namesake. He was the grandfather of the Confederate General John Hunt Morgan, famous for his long cavalry raid through Kentucky, Indiana, and Ohio; and great-grandfather of the evolutionary biologist (and Nobelist) Thomas Hunt Morgan.

The second, Gideon Junior, or Gideon Morgan the Third, was a leader of a regiment of Cherokee that allied with the Americans under Andrew Jackson during the Creek War, and that included more famous names like Major Ridge, Path Killer, and John Ross. He married Mary Sevier, the granddaughter of the first governor of Tennessee John Sevier, and a quarter Cherokee on her mother's side; Mary's maternal grandmother was a granddaughter of Oconostota, the leader of the Cherokee who fought and were defeated in the 1780's by the American revolutionaries who were to take Tennessee for themselves. Most of Gideon III's descendants went west to join the exiled Cherokee nation in Oklahoma. I know there was a Gideon Morgan IV who went to join the Cherokee in Oklahoma only after having served the Confederacy in the Civil War, but I don't know the details. There was another son of Gideon III, named Rufus Montezuma, and a daughter named Cherokee America. It looks like that part of the family, the ones with the Cherokee relations, were still in East Tennessee until the 1850's and 1860's, but most had gone to Oklahoma by the 1870's.

The third son was Rufus (II) Morgan, who died in 1826 in Kingston; he was an ancestor of the playwright Tennessee Williams (that link describes the confusion surrounding the identity of Gideon Rufus's father). The fifth (or sixth) was George Washington Morgan, who lived to be 96 years old, dying in the 80's in Nashville. George's son John Tyler Morgan was a Confederate general, and later a US Senator from Tennessee; his Wikipedia entry, I think, clearly indicates that he was the Bad Cousin: he was an influential white supremacist and imperialist who supported violence against blacks, the US war with Spain and the Philippines, and the annexation of Hawaii. One of G.W. Morgan's daughters, a Musidora Morgan, married a Daniel Sayre - their granddaughter was the famous Zelda Sayre, a whole different kind of tragedy.

The fourth son of Gideon Rufus was William Cogswell Morgan. He's the leftmost point on the blue path in the plot at the top of this post; 'WCM'. He went west to Nashville. His wife was Nancy Seawell, born in Nashville in the 1780's, which would make her part of the very first generation (of white people) of my hometown. He was my great-great-great-great grandfather, and I don't know much else about him, except that he died in the 1820's before he was 40 years old, just a few years after his wife died at 33. As far as I know, they had a single son, Lewis Morgan, around 1819.

The record is pretty fuzzy on this part of the story, probably because of William C.'s early death; we don't know where Lewis was born, where his parents died young, where he grew up - Nashville seems the best bet. I don't know who raised Lewis - I could even be wrong on the William C. connection, but I don't think I am. But still, this is the weakest link in the chain, weaker than the Gideon I - Gideon II link. I hope that somewhere in Tennessee, there's some document somewhere that can show clearly who Lewis's father was, but as of now, we just don't have any proof. The alternative is that he came from other Morgans from North Carolina, as I have found several possible Lewis Morgan Srs who were coming into East Tennessee, Alabama, and Georgia at around that time. Lewis Morgan was, in the late 18th century, a popular name. However, none of the dates or marriages fit - the other Lewises were too old or too young, unless we've got his birth date wrong, and they married women other than (and not including) the women we know he married.

At any rate, when the Civil War came, Lewis and his young son Rufus Samuel - as far as I can tell, he was Rufus Samuel the First, and Rufus III - joined up with his cousin John Hunt Morgan's army. I can't find any evidence that either of them took part in Morgan's famous Raid, though family lore has it that Lewis was a part of it, and spent some time imprisoned in Ohio (where Morgan's army finally surrendered). This is one reason to believe in the connection between William and Lewis, because Lewis apparently claimed that General Morgan was an actual cousin. Lewis's first wife was named Sarah Reed - a notebook I have a copy of, made by the daughter of a grandson of Lewis' named Fletcher Morgan, claims that Sarah was half Cherokee - I know nothing else about her. That notebook also insinuates the connection between William and Lewis.

Lewis was apparently murdered sometime soon after the War was over, in northern Alabama somewhere - the story is that he was taking money to a church, when he was robbed at a river crossing and buried in the sand by the thieves. Rufus Samuel ended up back in East Tennessee, where he married in McMinn county and lived to be 77 years old, dying in Chattanooga in 1923, three years after my grandfather, Rufus Samuel Morgan, was born there. I've seen a family picture of the elder Rufus Samuel and his sons. There were a lot of them. One of them was Rufus Samuel II (Rufus IV), who died in a car accident in Ringgold in 1918 at the age of 30 (I know this because it's written on the back of that family picture); another was the aforementioned Fletcher. Another was my grandfather's father, Edward Oliver. Edward Oliver married Anna Lee Wall, worked as a farmhand, a farmer, and later as an bookkeeper in the Chattanooga area, and died in 1963. Anna Lee died nine years later, seven years before I was born.

So now here I am, and in my generation there are three of us with this name Morgan, as a sort of genealogical reliquary - we're all children of my grandfather's two daughters, his only children, so we have different surnames. As near as I can tell, until my grandfather Rufus Samuel Morgan III - Rufus V if we include all namesakes - died, the name of Rufus Morgan had been held by some descendant of Gideon I in every year since 1751. 262 years of Rufus Morgans, from 1751 to 2013. It might continue in some distant line, but to my knowledge it ended with my grandfather. I had never known it had such a long history.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

reading about history

An idle essay on history, for the holiday!

In the past couple of years, a good portion of my recreational reading has been history, and some of that has been by ancient historians: Plutarch, Sima Qian, Livy. For the past few weeks, I've been alternating between two books, a collection of abridged Livy (from the Ad Urbe Condita) and Wittgenstein's Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, which is a study of how language is connected, or can potentially be connected, to reality. I'm not claiming to fully understand the Wittgenstein, but there has been an interaction.

There are lots of reasons why reading history is enjoyable. The main reason, for me, is that it is so edifying: you are learning how the world came to be the way that it is, and you're also learning about certain constancies of the human condition, mistakes and actions and etc that have been repeated over and over again for thousands of years. Another reason is that it is entertaining in the same way that reading fiction is entertaining: there are heroes and villains, victories and tragedies, and all of it is ambiguous and complex, at least in hindsight.

What the TLP made me think about was this (although not in the confusing terms of propositions, pictures, facts, etc): the page one reads is a surface into which has been pressed different shapes. When one reads, one is feeling these shapes, and mentally reconstructing whatever it was that impressed them. When one reads fiction, the impressor is, supposedly, always secondhand, in that it is the mind of the author that has been impressed, and the author has reconstructed ideas based on those impression, recombined them into mental realities, and then created new impressions based on those mental realities in the page. One then uses those impressions to reconstruct the author's mental realities. Since these reconstructions are not based on physical reality, they constitute in the language of the TLP false facts (although, strictly, many of the components of these false facts must be true; a falsehood cannot be sensible if it is not seemingly possible, its possibility being dictated by the local truth of its parts).

When one reads history, then the intention is that physical reality is impressed into the page, and that when one reads history and reconstructs his own mental realities, these should be (or be close to being) true facts. This is the intention of the honest historian, but he must inevitably fail, because he cannot base all, or even most, of his impressions on physical realities. Historians gain their knowledge by reading what was written by others before them, and then they compile what they have read into narratives that can be understood holistically by others. The historian must judge what are true and false facts, and impress only the true facts. Since other writers may not have thought of themselves as historians, and may not have been intent on impressing true facts, these judgments will be difficult, and the historian will sometimes fail.

So, when reading history as a naive consumer of text like myself, one is in the interesting situation of feeling out these impressions and forming mental reconstructions of the impressors, which are actually impressions of reconstructions of impressors that are actually reconstructions themselves and et cetera. Some of the impressions are mostly true (with local falsehoods), and some must be mostly false (with local truths). It's like Indiana Jones and the Holy Grail, except there's no reward or punishment for deciding that one or another fact is true or false. In reading fiction, the decision is implicit in the definition, but in reading history, you get the sense of walking along the true side of a very fuzzy edge, a transition into the false side. This transition gets broader and broader the further back in time one goes.

This then gets back to another issue which I'd like to write about sometime: the ubiquity of blur. All systems for transmitting information lose local details before they lose fundamentals. High spatial frequencies are lost in image formation; high temporal frequencies are lost as sound travels through a medium; sharp edges on an object are worn down by friction over time; genetic mutations effect molecular changes in the phenotype; and the details of history - names, dates, the precise unfolding of events - are misremembered or, mostly, forgotten. These are details in the literary sense, but they seem exactly analogous to physical details: what happened in Caesar's final days? Did he go to the forum in spite of warnings? Was Brutus really his son? These sorts of details, the answers to these sorts of questions, are permanently forgotten, but we know the larger, deeper, important events: Caesar was murdered by a conspiracy of Senators.

Interestingly, in the same way that a knife might be sharpened, or faded images might be retouched, old stories about the past might be sharpened up with added details; doped with false facts, to bring them into narrative focus. Caesar was warned about the Ides of March; he saw Brutus and said, "You too, my son?" The doping could also be with irrelevant facts: this is what you could buy from a street vendor in those days, this is what the men and women of this station wore on their feet. This sharpening, false or irrelevant, is enjoyable in a special way when it comes from someone who was writing more than 2000 years ago, because it is more immediate: nothing (except for the translator) has touched these impressions since they were formed. It's like holding something very, very old in your hands.

Monday, August 13, 2012

unifications of china 1

Random idea from this weekend: create a set of spatiotemporal maps illustrating the unifying conquests of China. For fun. Let's make a list:

1. Qin: Ying Zheng and Guanzhong
Qin was one of many Warring States in the centuries leading up to the first true unification of China in 9780HE. Qin was based in the area around and to the west of Xi'an, which is protected by mountain ranges and accessible only through narrow passes (I traveled through the Hangu pass to visit Xi'an in 12010HE): hence the region's name of Guanzhong, "within the passes". The conquest has an ill-defined starting point, since the different states had been in contention for centuries. However, it was with Ying Zheng's rule that most of the work was done: between 9771 and 9780, China proper went from seven states to one. This period, the Qin Unification War, could be taken as the first.

2. Han: Liu Bang and Guanzhong
Qin didn't long outlive Ying Zheng, who died in 9791. Soon after his death, Qin was overthrown and broken up into a number of kingdoms, united in theory by the Emperor of Chu, who was in fact a puppet of the warlord Xiang Yu. Xiang Yu's confederation quickly disintegrated into civil war between Xiang's Chu state and Liu Bang's Han state, which lasted from 9795 to 9799, when Chu was finally defeated and absorbed into Han. Han, by the way, based its power in the mountain-protected cities of Hanzhong and Chang'an, as Qin had done. Xiang Yu had placed his capital in Pengcheng, in eastern China. This war, and its result, was messy: at any given point in time, even for a decade after the war ended, it was unclear just who was in charge of particular regions, and a lot rested on the proclaimed allegiances of one or another warlord. However, there are standard interpretations of who was with who and when, that could be used to clarify an illustration.

3. Wei/Jin: Cao Cao and Guandong (east of the passes)
Han lasted for 400 years. When it finally collapsed around 10190, there were more than 20 years of war, followed by a half-century period of fracture into the Three Kingdoms of Wei, Wu, and Shu. The Wei state, based in the western edges of the central plains, just east of the mountain strongholds favored by Qin and early Han, eventually conquered Shu in 10263, was replaced in a coup by Jin in 10265, and finally conquered Wu in 10280. After this, Jin slowly fell apart, and China wouldn't be put together under one government again for another four centuries. The Wei/Jin unification was so slow, taking more than 80 years, that it can't really be considered a 'conquest'; it was a slow succession of local wars, with long spaces of quiet in between. I don't think this one would count.

I don't know much about the establishment of Sui - we'll wait until I've read a bit more on it before I continue.

Monday, January 09, 2012

Wuhu Environs


About five hundred kilometers upstream from the Pacific, the River runs east and then abruptly north. Sprawling eastward from the northern arm of this right angle is the City of Wuhu. The main body of the City is pressed up against the River, which is still the region's main artery for trade, though in turns railroads and now highways have added new arteries, enabling the City to sprawl away from the River in new directions, and to mix its influence with its neighbors.

To the south, the City begins to wrap around the River bend before it fades into farming villages and the occasional satellite towns that sit between and around the tips of the northernmost foothills of the Yellow Mountains. My wife was born in one of these towns, and her parents in another smaller one nearby, the two towns separated by a long fragment of those foothills, a little mountain with a northward spine. Her ancestors are buried on the slopes of that mountain.

Eastwards, there are marshes which have been engineered over centuries, or millennia, into networks of polders, surrounded by channels filled with water from distant rivers, on each of which sits a tiny village or a cluster of tended fields, or both. Some of these networks are regular, laid out in vast grids tens of kilometers across, showing from any vantage point the mark of some overarching plan, carried out long ago by the people of those marshes. Others follow no obvious pattern, except that there seems to be some average island size, similar to that constant size of the regular networks, and some acceptable deviation from this average, and an agreement amongst the people that they were going to reform the marshes into channels and islands.

Surrounded and out of options, the Hegemon Xiang Yu is said to have killed himself nearby, two-thousand two-hundred and fourteen years ago, and someone is supposed to have taken his horse's saddle up onto a mountain and buried it. That mountain gives its name to the City of Ma'anshan, which also presses up against the east bank of the River, fifty kilometers or so north of Wuhu. This City is known for making steel, and a ride through town will show you infinite smokestacks and gray air that covers everything, it is beautiful and terrible all at once.

Further north along the course of the River is the Southern Capital, and from there the River makes its final drive east where it breaks apart and becomes Shanghai. Across the River bend from Wuhu, north and west, is Chaohu, which has recently been dismembered by its neighboring Cities, most notably the provincial capital of Hefei, which sits even further along the same northwest vector.

Westwards, up the River, there is more, Hubei and Jiangxi and beyond, but there is more in every direction, and the mind follows the flow of the river back towards the Ocean in the east, and does not easily run against it, and these are enough reasons now to conclude and say that the City rules the neighborhood of that bend in the River.