What's in a name? Shakespeare asked a very important question, and although Romeo said if a rose was not called a rose, it would "smell just as sweet." In the 1500's a name meant a lot. Even here in America in the 21st century, a name means a lot.
I am the daughter of an American History teacher interested in his family's genealogy. My father's family has been in this country since it began as an English colony. My family has been here since the Virginia colony was a very young community of English settlers, but I am also a descendant of those brave Scots-Irish who left their homes in Belfast and took a ship to the New World for a new life. A group of people who forged past the wall of eastern mountains and settled across this large land.
So why does it matter? Well to you good reader, I doubt it does, but to me it means a lot. My husband's family is from Virginia. My family is from Tennessee. Once when my husband and I had just begun to date, we went to dinner with his father. As we were talking that night, I told him my family was also from Virginia, but many years ago. I told him a story that I have heard since I was a small child. A story I have read in works written by my very own ancestors. The story of "The potato hole or the Iron Pot." Yes, it sounds like a silly story, but actually it's not. It speaks of how important a name is.
Here's the story (short version): There was a doctor who came to the Virginia colony with his wife. They had two sons. Now, one day while the good doctor was out seeing his patients, the chief of the local Indians decided to raid the colony. At home, the doctor and his wife had been entertaining a visitor. His name was "Liggons." (we don't know his first name...or at least I don't) And just to give you an idea of the time period, this chief was Pocahontas' uncle.
Unfortunately, this chief decided to raid, and that left the good doctor's wife and their visitor at the cabin to fight off their attackers. The good doctor was actually killed right in view of his own cabin, which was very sad. Now, the good wife, she had to save her sons, so what did she do? She put one child in a potato hole and one in an iron pot. Mr. Liggons protected them with a blunderbuss that belonged to the good doctor. It had been sent back to England about six months before this raid because it was jammed. The gun had been cut down from an 8 ft gun to a 7 1/2 foot gun, still long, huh? (this gun resides in the National History Museum in Richmond, Virginia.) So Mr. Liggons went about the business of shooting Indians, while the good wife scalded several Indians as they came down her chimney.
When the raid was over, over 400 English settlers were dead. As far as I know, the good wife and her visitor survived, but the stroy doesn't say. But we do know the two boys did. So here's the question of this story....ready? "So who do you descend from? The potato hole or the iron pot? Well, I don't know which one is my ancestor, but the people in Virginia called the descendants the "Potato Hole Woodson's or the Tub Woodsons."
So I told this story to my future father-in-law, and I accidentally called the good doctor, Dr Woodston. You see, we have a street in Memphis called Woodston, and the good wife's maiden name was Winston, so you see I put them together. Well, I was quickly corrected. My father-in-law said, "It's Dr. John Woodson, and if you are directly descended from Dr. John Woodson, your family has been here since 1619, because I'm directly descended from Dr. John Woodson." Okay, I looked at my future husband and said, "We are not related, this was over 400 years ago." But really, are we? And just another point, Sarah Winston's family is the same family that Winston Churchill is from.
So just recently I became friends with a man from England. He, my sister, and I are all friends with members of The Church, a band from Australia I have loved since 1983. Well, why is this new Facebook friendship important? Because his last name is my father's first name. Although his family stayed in England, my father's family, for whom he was named, came to the colonies. This ancestor of mine was arrested for disorderly conduct and not attending church in a community down from Jamestown . It was called Archer's Way or something. By the way, one of his first son's was named Archer. My brother-in-law and my father-in-law both have the name Archer. HMMMMM.
So the ancestor's name was Thomas Farley and his wife was Lady Jane (Molyneux). She being a direct descendant from the Plantagenents. They had a lot of children, and one of their sons is my ancestor. So maybe I've found a long lost relative. I think it's very fascinating. Just because my Farley family left England for the colonies, doesn't mean we don't have the same genes. My family just changed location, but we are still Farley's.
So here in America, it means a lot if you are from someone who came to the colony of Virginia. We were the first. We didn't come here during the potato famine in Ireland, or leave Eastern Europe for a better life, no we came because we had the opportunity to have land in the New World. Our families fought in the Revolutionary War, we fought in the Civil War, we called ourselves Americans. But we are the reason America was the "land of opportunity." And if I could be invited into that exclusive club called The First Families of Virginia or the FFV, I'd join. Unfortunately, I don't live in Virginia. My ancestors decided to keep moving, like the Scots Irish around them. They wanted land and the ability to live their lives in freedom. My family is even part of the "who's who" of Memphis society.
But, I digress. A name does mean a lot. It gives a person a sense of continuity. A place to belong. A family to respect. A history to learn and revere. Yes, I am a citizen of the United States, and my family came from England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales and Germany. I even have Native American on both sides of my family. I find the entire story of how my family came to this country and settle in Tennessee and Arkansas very exciting. I love the fact that somewhere in another country there is someone with the same genes as mine. And so, to me, a name is everything!
I am the daughter of an American History teacher interested in his family's genealogy. My father's family has been in this country since it began as an English colony. My family has been here since the Virginia colony was a very young community of English settlers, but I am also a descendant of those brave Scots-Irish who left their homes in Belfast and took a ship to the New World for a new life. A group of people who forged past the wall of eastern mountains and settled across this large land.
So why does it matter? Well to you good reader, I doubt it does, but to me it means a lot. My husband's family is from Virginia. My family is from Tennessee. Once when my husband and I had just begun to date, we went to dinner with his father. As we were talking that night, I told him my family was also from Virginia, but many years ago. I told him a story that I have heard since I was a small child. A story I have read in works written by my very own ancestors. The story of "The potato hole or the Iron Pot." Yes, it sounds like a silly story, but actually it's not. It speaks of how important a name is.
Here's the story (short version): There was a doctor who came to the Virginia colony with his wife. They had two sons. Now, one day while the good doctor was out seeing his patients, the chief of the local Indians decided to raid the colony. At home, the doctor and his wife had been entertaining a visitor. His name was "Liggons." (we don't know his first name...or at least I don't) And just to give you an idea of the time period, this chief was Pocahontas' uncle.
Unfortunately, this chief decided to raid, and that left the good doctor's wife and their visitor at the cabin to fight off their attackers. The good doctor was actually killed right in view of his own cabin, which was very sad. Now, the good wife, she had to save her sons, so what did she do? She put one child in a potato hole and one in an iron pot. Mr. Liggons protected them with a blunderbuss that belonged to the good doctor. It had been sent back to England about six months before this raid because it was jammed. The gun had been cut down from an 8 ft gun to a 7 1/2 foot gun, still long, huh? (this gun resides in the National History Museum in Richmond, Virginia.) So Mr. Liggons went about the business of shooting Indians, while the good wife scalded several Indians as they came down her chimney.
When the raid was over, over 400 English settlers were dead. As far as I know, the good wife and her visitor survived, but the stroy doesn't say. But we do know the two boys did. So here's the question of this story....ready? "So who do you descend from? The potato hole or the iron pot? Well, I don't know which one is my ancestor, but the people in Virginia called the descendants the "Potato Hole Woodson's or the Tub Woodsons."
So I told this story to my future father-in-law, and I accidentally called the good doctor, Dr Woodston. You see, we have a street in Memphis called Woodston, and the good wife's maiden name was Winston, so you see I put them together. Well, I was quickly corrected. My father-in-law said, "It's Dr. John Woodson, and if you are directly descended from Dr. John Woodson, your family has been here since 1619, because I'm directly descended from Dr. John Woodson." Okay, I looked at my future husband and said, "We are not related, this was over 400 years ago." But really, are we? And just another point, Sarah Winston's family is the same family that Winston Churchill is from.
So just recently I became friends with a man from England. He, my sister, and I are all friends with members of The Church, a band from Australia I have loved since 1983. Well, why is this new Facebook friendship important? Because his last name is my father's first name. Although his family stayed in England, my father's family, for whom he was named, came to the colonies. This ancestor of mine was arrested for disorderly conduct and not attending church in a community down from Jamestown . It was called Archer's Way or something. By the way, one of his first son's was named Archer. My brother-in-law and my father-in-law both have the name Archer. HMMMMM.
So the ancestor's name was Thomas Farley and his wife was Lady Jane (Molyneux). She being a direct descendant from the Plantagenents. They had a lot of children, and one of their sons is my ancestor. So maybe I've found a long lost relative. I think it's very fascinating. Just because my Farley family left England for the colonies, doesn't mean we don't have the same genes. My family just changed location, but we are still Farley's.
So here in America, it means a lot if you are from someone who came to the colony of Virginia. We were the first. We didn't come here during the potato famine in Ireland, or leave Eastern Europe for a better life, no we came because we had the opportunity to have land in the New World. Our families fought in the Revolutionary War, we fought in the Civil War, we called ourselves Americans. But we are the reason America was the "land of opportunity." And if I could be invited into that exclusive club called The First Families of Virginia or the FFV, I'd join. Unfortunately, I don't live in Virginia. My ancestors decided to keep moving, like the Scots Irish around them. They wanted land and the ability to live their lives in freedom. My family is even part of the "who's who" of Memphis society.
But, I digress. A name does mean a lot. It gives a person a sense of continuity. A place to belong. A family to respect. A history to learn and revere. Yes, I am a citizen of the United States, and my family came from England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales and Germany. I even have Native American on both sides of my family. I find the entire story of how my family came to this country and settle in Tennessee and Arkansas very exciting. I love the fact that somewhere in another country there is someone with the same genes as mine. And so, to me, a name is everything!
Comments
Post a Comment
Please feel free to leave a comment. Thanks. And if you have enjoyed reading this blog, please like and follow.