What Makes a House a Home

This is a difficult time of the year for me—always. Only a little more than 3 weeks of school remain (and that’s counting the weekends; without them, maybe just around 18 days or so). These will be the hardest ones. The kids have “checked out” already—and I have motivated students, those who want to go to college and thus who know the ropes already. They know they can’t give up just yet, but it’s hard…so hard!

My daughter Lauren and I have been talking about houses tonight. I’ve said many times lately that if I were by myself right now, I’d opt for a tiny home.

—Well, perhaps not “tiny” as some people think of it, but definitely very, very small…one room, maybe, with a galley-type kitchen and a little bathroom tucked under stairs that led up to a loft where a guest might sleep. One guest; two at the most.

And no lawn, please.

So it was with amusement that Lauren called me out on that and reminded me I’d just been griping about not really having enough room in this house for everybody to get their STUFF spread out properly. I reminded her that my key words were “if I were by myself.”

This has been a topic of great conversation for a year or two, which makes my having the Scales house (ca. 1892) kind of comical.

Scales House, ca. 1892, picture about 1910

I don’t know about all of you, but I remember several “homes” through the years. There was the first place I lived, in Collinsville:

Collinsville, MS Carol Alawine & little sis

Then there was this one:

Marion, MS, Alawine sibs about 1956

This structure in Marion is now owned by my first cousin Malcolm Threatt (the former mayor of Marion); but when I was very little, I lived there. It was the first place I have clear memories of. The core of the house, by the way, is probably antebellum.

Later, there was 14^th Street in Meridian…and, again, I have only Google pictures of that; the building is no longer there. Still later, Collinsville; and—for a year and a half—Madden, Mississippi. I wish I had at least a photo of that house near the Thaggard Hospital, but I don’t, and the house (which was actually the original hospital, many years earlier) is long gone now.

I’ve lived in Starkville three times (it's where I am now) and also the Memphis area for 5 ½ years. So I’ve been “mobile,” as they say, myself.

We like to think we move around more than our ancestors did, but that’s not always true. The Alewines/Alawines came from South Carolina; then they were in Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi. Andrew J. Alawine, my great-grandfather, was in Attala County, Mississippi, around the time of the Civil War; but, afterwards, he lived in Alabama; then the village of Lauderdale, then Pine Springs, and, finally, just over the line in Kemper County.

Bill D. Skinner, my great-great-grandfather on another side, was in Clarke County, then Lauderdale, then Kemper, where his son Roland built this house, which was home for a number of families later on through the years.

"Carpenter Gothic" home built by Roland G. Skinner ca. 1885

Rosa Claughton was born in Dallas County, Alabama, but moved to Lauderdale County, Mississippi, and died in Kemper.

These people were all born after about the 1840’s, and their wanderings spanned only about 50 or 55 years at the most. Consider, if you will, how difficult a move had to have been, when you had to do it in wagons.

[Obviously, there couldn’t have been the amount of STUFF that we think is essential these days. Perhaps that’s why in some of us there’s a really elemental urge to go simple and toss the unnecessary junk.]

Some of our ancestors didn’t move around too much, though. The Tolberts and Culbertsons—once they arrived in Mississippi—stayed pretty much in Neshoba and Kemper Counties, where you may still find a good many of their descendants. Same with the Lukes: They were here since the first half of the 19^th century, pretty much in the same places. Some of the Theads of South Mississippi and Alabama migrated to Lauderdale County, but a good many of them were still in Clarke County and—over the line—Choctaw County for many years.

The family that built my old house in Macon lived there for only 10 years before the head of the household died unexpectedly; then his wife left Noxubee County. Through the years afterwards, a number of families lived there before we arrived. The rooms echo now—not eerily but sadly, as if with the far-distant recollection of footsteps.

Many years ago my younger brother Jack and I roamed around with our father Bob in the woods near Alawine Springs, in Kemper County. Daddy’s health wasn’t good by then, and maybe he just wanted to go back in his mind to see things he recalled from youth. I asked him one time if he envisioned lots of brothers and sisters running around those roads and slopes, laughing, getting water from the spring, and so on. I was Romantically inclined in those days, nostalgic...“naïve” would be a good word. He gave me a fairly sharp look and said, no, he couldn’t; it hadn’t been like that. There had been no woods in those days, just fields, and there was precious little running around, laughing, and playing. —Not that the family hadn’t had enjoyable times; their music gift is well known, and even I—a Johnny-come-lately, sort of—remember gatherings where there was pure enjoyment.

But what I envisioned as “home” wasn’t his memory at all. And what I think of, myself, as “home” doesn’t seem to be what comes to my daughters’ minds, either.

So I’m guessing that our ancestors, traveling around pretty often, some of them, with all their possessions in wagons probably learned to define the word “home” more as “where family is,” as perhaps we all do, in time. Anyway, I’m including here some photos of other old home places. I’ve posted them before, though not all at once. If you have any to share, let me hear from you.

Eliza Culbertson Tolbert...notice side of old house (picture of Wm. Henry at same place, below)

Rosa Claughton Luke, Marion, MS old house, ca. 1955

Same Marion house, Alawines

Probable log home of James Thead from about 1840 (gone now)

Home of John Hamilton Thead, Theadville, MS, photo 1988

Home of Emma Thead Shepherd, photo 1988

Tolbert Home, Neshoba County, about 1920

Wm. Henry Tolbert, looking at camera, Tolbert home about 1920-22

Old Tolbert home, Edinburg, MS

Coincidence

Coincidence or not?

 I started thinking about this today after I picked up Jane Eyre to re-read it. For, like, the 55th time.

I do read more recent books, yes, but I also love my classics!

You remember how it is: Jane, fleeing Rochester, wanders, starving, along moors and byways until she’s found by St. John Rivers, a young minister who takes her into his home with his sisters. As it turns out, they’re all her cousins, though she didn’t know she had any kin at all! And, more astounding, another unknown relative—her uncle—died and left Jane all his estate, but at the Riverses’ expense: they would’ve inherited had it not been for her.

[For those of you who, somehow, have NEVER read the book or seen one of the movies, I won’t spoil the ending. Gotta love those Brontë gals.]

The last time my daughters and I watched the 1997 movie (the one with Ciaran Hinds and Samantha Morton), we got into a deep metaphysical discussion about coincidence. This is what’s so great about having grown daughters, by the way: you can get into deep metaphysical discussions.

We talked about whether a plot device as transparent as “coincidence” was a good or bad thing. I mean, in Jane Eyre, for her to arrive at a home where she eventually discovers that the people rescuing her are, after all, her own cousins…well, as a friend of mine would say, sarcastically, “How weird is THAT?”

As I look back at family records, though, I’ve changed my mind a little, at least insofar as those older classics go. Despite what we snicker about now, maybe that sort of coincidence wouldn’t have been so unusual at one time. In the Thead blog I’ve remarked on how so many communities around the country during the Civil War were devastated by battles where one regiment might be fighting—if the battle was especially bloody, a small town back home would experience huge loss, since regiments were organized locally.

Years ago when I was researching the Civil War records of many family members, on both sides of the family, I was amazed to see that Theads, Harmons, Skinners, Culbertsons showed up in the 13th Mississippi. I talked about the “coincidence” of those men’s descendants' marrying, later; I tried to attribute a sort of deep meaning to all this.

This particular regiment became known as the “Bloody 13th,” because of the number of intense battles at which they were present.

This is a roster card showing where the peripatetic regiment fought.

A concise summary of their movements and battles can be found at http://civilwarintheeast.com/confederate-regiments/mississippi/13th-mississippi-infantry-regiment/

In any case, the 13th was organized from the counties of Lauderdale, Winston, Wayne, Attala, Newton, Chickasaw, Kemper, and Clarke. As many of my ancestors lived in one of those areas, those who served in the Confederacy in the 13th and survived probably knew each other fairly well by the war’s end. So I shouldn’t have been so quick to use the term “coincidence” when thinking about how their sons and daughters intermarried, later. As in the book Jane Eyre, there weren’t so many people around at that time. It would be expected that the guys recruited from those counties would, after the war, have children who would pick spouses from those areas.

But, again, perhaps what SHOULD have struck me with awe was the fact that—in the case of this particular regiment—there WERE people for these families to continue their lines with, later.

On another note, Janis Boyles Wilson found some interesting information about Richard Thead, an ancestor of hers who may or may not have been one of the “original” emigrants. In a list titled “More Emigrants in Bondage”, she found, “Theed, Richard of Woodford. S for highway robbery Summer 1745 R 14 yrs Lent T Sep 1746 Mary. E.” She discovered that the “S” means “sentenced to transportation”; the “R” means “reprieved for transportation.” “T” signifies “Transported”, and “E” means Essex, a county just northeast of London. Woodford is 9.5 miles northeast of Charing Cross. In a document titled "The King's passengers to Maryland and Virginia", Richard Theed is listed as "Felons transported from London to Virginia by the Mary, Capt. John Johnstoun, in September 1746.

Jan and were trying to make sense of all this, in light of the fact that, by 1783, Richard Thead’s estate was inventoried after his death. Is this the same Richard? Odds are, yes, but who knows for sure? Anyway, we shared some thoughts about “felons” and so on; but the truth is, MANY of our ancestors from the United Kingdom area were indentured servants.

The website https://www.stratfordhall.org/educational-resources/teacher-resources/indentured-servants/ explains:

“White indentured servants came from all over Great Britain. Men, women, and sometimes children signed a contract with a master to serve a term of 4 to 7 years. In exchange for their service, the indentured servants received their passage paid from England, as well as food, clothing, and shelter once they arrived in the colonies. Some were even paid a salary. When the contract had expired, the servant was paid freedom dues of corn, tools, and clothing, and was allowed to leave the plantation. During the time of his indenture, however, the servant was considered his master’s personal property and his contract could be inherited or sold. Prices paid for indentured servants varied depending on skills.”

And, again, in Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indentured_servitude

“…Between one-half and two-thirds of white immigrants to the American colonies between the 1630s and American Revolution had come under indentures.[2] However, while almost half the European immigrants to the Thirteen Colonies were indentured servants, at any one time they were outnumbered by workers who had never been indentured, or whose indenture had expired, and thus free wage labor was the more prevalent for Europeans in the colonies.[3] ”

Those of us who’ve found the occasional wealthy ancestor, therefore, may be in the minority. So it’s possible Richard was in trouble with the law, and—to free up space in a prison, and perhaps since his crime was petty (maybe because he was poor)—he was just shipped to the New World to get him out of Dodge, so to speak. And, as Wikipedia points out, sometimes that indenture was bought by a ship’s captain (which appears to have been the case with Richard, based on that record above), who would make a deal with an employer in the Colonies and get his money back, reselling the indenture contract.

And, by the way, the practice wasn’t totally outlawed until 1917…which was a year after my mother’s birth.

I’m duplicating this particular piece on both my blogs, because of the overlap of both subjects (the 13th Mississippi and the practice of indenture) in all branches of the family.

Coincidence?

Ælfwine