Sunday, March 22, 2026

Clustering Together

 

In looking up documents regarding brick wall ancestors, eventually we get to a point where we start to notice we've been seeing the same names appearing together, time after time. That realization is worth paying attention to, for it is quite typical for people—friends, associates, neighbors, for instance—to cluster together when facing big decisions in life. This, as one might say, could be a clue.

I was ecstatic when I finally broke through the records impasse to discover the parents of my third great-grandfather Thomas Rainey. Following rapidly on that long-awaited discovery was another: Thomas Rainey's mother's name, Sally Firth, appeared in her father's will. Almost instantly, I had a new set of names of collateral lines to research for DNA purposes.

And then I got stuck. Again.

Sally Firth's sister Elizabeth apparently married Randolph Rawlings. The many permutations of her husband's given name prompted me to see what I could find on Elizabeth's husband, regardless of what his name might have been.

That's when I discovered some documents of interest. Maddening in that the main court record actually left blanks where key dates should have been inserted in the first document I discovered, I hung on to it based simply on a hunch. That hunch was that the names listed in the record might signify more of a connection than just any names in a random list.

The record began, "This indenture made the ___ day of ____ Eighteen hundred + one between...."

Then followed a listing of names, somewhat confusing due to lack of commas. Included in the list were:

  • Thomas Firth and Nancy his wife
  • Randolph Rawlings and Eliza B his wife
  • Howell Duggar and Mary his wife
  • Isham Rainey and Sally his wife
  • Henry Abernathy and Rebeckah his wife
Those listed in that group represented one party in a legal exchange, with someone named William Firth being the second party. For exchange of ninety pounds "lawfull money" the above party released to William Firth a certain tract of land in Brunswick County, Virginia, containing about 125 acres.

This past week, when I had first discovered Rebecca Firth's marriage to Henry Abernethy—the family's  surname was often misspelled in records as Abernathy—I tried tracing the couple's descendants, mainly to help with placing DNA matches.

The Abernethy family was said to have moved from Virginia to Tennessee. Though I had little luck locating the family in other pre-1850 records, one detail I did notice while chasing these Abernethys was the recurrence of the surname Duggar. This was a surname which I couldn't connect with the family, but the frequency of the pairing told me there might be something to the connection that I needed to know.

Since then, I worked on another Firth daughter's line, that of Elizabeth, who we've since discovered became wife of Randolph Rawlings. That couple, too, appeared in this list. Of course, Isham Rainey, father of my third great-grandfather Thomas Rainey, had married another Firth sibling, Sarah, known as Sally Firth. And Thomas Firth, junior, as we discover from this legal document, must have married someone named Nancy.

With all the couples but one containing relatives connected to this same Firth family, could that mean the Duggars were also family members? Could Mary Duggar (in her signature at the bottom of the document showing as Polly) have been a sister of Rebecca, Elizabeth, Sally, and the younger Thomas Firth? If the principle of cluster genealogy holds true, it's worth checking out that possibility. It's time to examine a few more documents.


Saturday, March 21, 2026

Given Under our Hands This Day

 

FamilySearch.org's Full Text Search is becoming my new best friend. When it comes to researching those hard-to-find ancestors from centuries past, the best place—sometimes the only place—to find mention of those near-invisible relatives is in court records. Yes, those tedious-to-read, overly wordy, illegible handwritten documents buried in back rooms of courthouses can bring us exactly the details we're seeking on our kin—if we can find the right records. And Full Text Search can zero in on the most reasonable possibilities.

As we wade through flowery phrases like "In the name of God, Amen," that open pages-long documents, or search for concluding statements such as "given under our hands this day," just to uncover the date confirming we've found the right person's record, our exhausted eyes are rewarded by the goldmine we are chasing. Sure, the handwriting may frustrate us, and the length of documents may weary us, but the good news is that we have it so much better than those family historians who went before us. The computerized digitizing process and transcribing AI systems have now made this process possible in a snap.

For this month, that is excellent news for me. Ever since discovering that I could break through my brick wall and find my third great-grandfather Thomas Rainey's parents' names, it's been far easier to continue down this path beyond that brick wall. I've started working on Thomas Rainey's maternal grandparents back in Brunswick County, Virginia, then branched out to their children, Thomas' aunts and uncles on the Firth side of the family.

We've already started work following the descendants of one Firth sister, Rebecca, who married Henry Abernethy. Then, the next attempt was to decipher the name of another sister's husband, supposedly listing Elizabeth Firth's spouse in one document as "Randle" Rawlings.

I took that question about "Randle" to Full Text Search at FamilySearch.org and played with the possibilities. Searching first for "Randle," some spelling alternatives popped up, beginning with "Randal." Pretty soon, another alternative was offered up at Full Text Search: the more reasonable Randolph.

I didn't want to presume that that was the actual name at first, as I didn't want to mislead the search process by jumping to that conclusion. Doing so might have caused me to miss some other possibilities. But with patience, I noticed that Randle and even Randal seemed to lead nowhere, no matter which keywords I combined with those options.

It was easy to eliminate those other options, even though they popped up in actual documents. The more reasonable option, Randolph Rawlings, soon took the lead with a preponderance of search results. And despite missing some key documents I'd like to see—a will, for instance—the documents Full Text Search offered up turned out to paint a useful picture, indeed.

In particular, one document started me on a new research path with its concluding statement, "Given under our hands this 9th day of January 1828." Following Elizabeth Firth Rawlings from that document's date uncovered an entire cluster of possible family members and business associates of her by-then deceased husband Randolph Rawlings—a project to piece together over the next few remaining days of this month's research project.


Friday, March 20, 2026

Clawing Through Another Brick Wall

 

As often happens in genealogy research, one long-awaited breakthrough precipitates others. Whereas before, that brick wall seemed impenetrable, now it becomes a matter of simply clawing our way through the next brick wall. The research is still tedious, but it's no longer at a standstill.

After having discovered the will for my brick wall third great-grandfather Thomas Rainey's maternal grandfather, of course I was elated—until I realized all the work that awaited at this next iteration. For a man whose last testament was signed in 1794—leaving all but one of his daughters still unmarried—slow progress was understandable. Yes, women back then could be nearly invisible, but documentation on anyone was hard to come by.

I did follow the lines of descent for one sibling of my fourth great-grandmother Sally Firth: her sister Rebecca, wife of Henry Abernethy (and conveniently the mother of a widely known Methodist preacher in Alabama). Even so, trying to identify the lesser-known siblings in that family's next generation has been, so far, beyond my reach.

Today, I explored another Firth daughter, at least far enough to discover some documentation on her own marriage. This daughter, "Betsey" in her father's will, was the only one listed there by her married name, Rawlings. Fortunately, a line item in a ledger of Brunswick County, Virginia, marriages showed an "Eliza" Firth marrying someone entered in the record as "Randle" Rawlings. An additional note in the 1784 ledger identified the bride's father as Thomas Firth, to assure us we had found the right one.

Granted, my question at this point is: was that husband's name actually Randle? Or are we once again witnessing some creative record keeping? I'll follow this line as long as I can to see what else might be uncovered from those early American records. In the process, perhaps that, too, will explain some distant cousin DNA matches.

Thursday, March 19, 2026

Things You'd Otherwise Never Have Known

 

Walking through airport terminals brings with it a haunting sense that I am passing by family members whom I never knew. Perhaps most people would never give such a thought any consideration, but when you are immersed in genealogy—and even more so, genetic genealogy—you see as likely what others would dismiss as unlikely.

Even so, the nagging suspicion that I'm crossing paths with, say, a sixth cousin did not quite prepare me for the discovery that I might have just missed an encounter with a double sixth cousin. Such possibilities enter the realm of things you'd otherwise never have known, but today, I almost discovered the bearer of such an unlikely relationship.

Since I've been working this month on the line of my (formerly brick wall) third great-grandfather Thomas Rainey, discovering his parents' identities, and then his maternal grandfather's identity, I took that information to the ThruLines tool at AncestryDNA. Sure enough, there were several matches already assembled for my consideration regarding my fifth great-grandfather Thomas Firth

I selected one possible sixth cousin, and pulled up the readout proposing how we were connected. What was strange about that diagram was that the ancestors at the top of the list—Thomas Firth, followed by his daughter Rebecca—were not the only boxes entered in solid-white appearance. Skipping three dotted-line boxes for the subsequent generations not listed in my family tree, the last two boxes itemizing the generations preceding my DNA match were also solid white boxes, meaning I already had those people in my tree.

This DNA match had apparently already been confirmed in my tree, connected through another relationship in my family. Could this have been a case of some sort of double cousin link, only far more distant than the usual cousin of this sort? I had to look closer.

Yes, it is possible that, far back in our family's past, yet another person married someone from another branch in our tree. That's the same dynamic which brings us endogamy and pedigree collapse. No surprise here. I just didn't expect it on that side of my own family tree.

Of course, I had to look further into that assertion. After all, ThruLines suggestions are based on support from family trees. And family trees on genealogy websites are notorious for being copied from other family trees. Some of those trees contain errors. Where does that leave us?

While my DNA match's paternal grandmother's line did indeed line up with my own mother's line, this supposed second relationship would have come from the match's paternal grandfather's line. I started building that line up in my own tree, using documentation. At first, it seemed difficult to find any trace of documentation for that grandfather's line, partially because of a move from a different state, and partly in following someone with a series of misfortunes, such as remarriages and step-children.

In the end, I realized what had happened. It was the spouse of my related line who had married twice, with the child in question actually being a step-child for my family's direct line. Some family trees had mis-attributed the parents for this child, who then showed up as a direct relative instead of a step-relative. Ancestry.com went with the subscribers' trees; I chose to follow the paper trail.

I suppose at some point, with all these DNA tests showing us how we are all related, I might stumble upon someone who is doubly related to me, maybe in ways I would never suspect. Results from DNA tests can be surprising. But so can the people who build those trees.

Wednesday, March 18, 2026

Where There's a Will . . .

 

Succeeding with this month's research project to find the names of my third great-grandfather Thomas Rainey's parents—Isham Rainey and Sally Firth—I've since gone beyond that and found mention of Sally's name in her father's will. With wills being what they are—and since I also am using DNA to connect the dots between distant cousins—I couldn't pass up the chance to take a closer look at that earlier generation. After all, where there's a will, there's a chance I can find a mention of the entire family.

Sally Firth, wife of Isham Rainey, was apparently daughter of Thomas Firth and his wife, also named Sally. It was not hard, once the original document pointed me back to Brunswick County, Virginia, to locate Thomas Firth's 1794 will. From there, a reading of the simple will provided the names of Sally Firth Rainey's surviving siblings, something I'd like to review today.

The elder Thomas Firth first named his sons in his will, beginning with son William, then mentioning his namesake son, Thomas Firth junior. Then the document moved to the daughters, beginning with Polly B. Firth, then Betsey B. Rawlings, Sally Firth, and last, the youngest daughter, Rebekah Firth.

Since the senior Thomas Firth would have been my fifth great-grandfather, his relationship was still within range to yield some possible DNA matches—slim connections, but there, nonetheless.

Now that I have those names of the elder Thomas Firth's children, I'll be working on the lines of each of these descendants to see whether I have any DNA matches among those collateral lines. You never know when a detail discovered while exploring a sibling's line might reveal the answer to a fact about our own direct line that may have had us stumped up to this point.

Tuesday, March 17, 2026

Sally Firth

 

Ever since the 1980s, there has been a comic strip featuring a title I love: "Sally Forth." The title itself is a play on words, calling to mind the phrase which essentially means to launch out on an adventure. How apropos it has been to discover, in this month's research adventure, that the ancestor whose parents I've been chasing through centuries-old documents turns out to have a mother who claimed a slightly-morphed version of that same "Sally Forth" name. Only, in this case, her name was Sally Firth.

It was earlier this month, in slogging through mind-numbingly tedious court documents, that we discovered Thomas Firth Rainey's mother was named Sarah Firth. Yet, since one nickname often used for the given name Sarah has been Sally, that is exactly how I found her name documented in yet another court document. 

This time, her name appeared in an even older record, that of the will of her father, drawn up in Brunswick County, Virginia, in June of 1794. His name? Thomas Firth, providing a fuller explanation of just how my third great-grandfather received his own name. Not only did his middle name reflect his mother's maiden name, but his full name clearly linked him to his maternal grandfather, who likely died the very month that my third great-grandparent's parents were married.

So far for this month's research goal, we've discovered the names of Thomas Firth Rainey's parents—and now, the identity of his maternal grandfather, Thomas Firth. In addition, the will revealed that the elder Thomas was married to a woman also identified as Sally.

Whether the senior Sally was mother of the younger Sally, I can't tell, but the pull of the identical names lends credibility to that possibility. Since we've got quite a bit more time to pursue this research project for this month, perhaps that will become clearer before we need to move on to April's challenge. 

Monday, March 16, 2026

Advancements to the Heirs

 

In the Monroe County, Mississippi, court records assembled in the administration of the estate of Isham Rainey was one page inserted with the label, "A Bill of advancements to the heirs of the Estate of Isham Rainey, decd."

That, precisely, was what I was looking for. In the jumble, however, I couldn't be sure that the preceding scanned entry was the reverse side of that label. However, there were enough names ending in "Rainey" entered in that list to make me decide to save it for future reference.

What was recorded on that previous scanned entry was a mostly legible note reading,

The undersigned agree that they have received from Isham Rainy dec'd in his lifetime [?] the sums respectively charged to them in the above acct. 7th Jan'y 1845.

Whether that was the settlement to heirs or an exchange for a different financial transaction, I can't tell. The court records seemed to be filed in disarray, so there was no guarantee that the sequence of appearance held any significance. But the list introduces several more Rainey family members than I had previously been aware of—a good list to hold close for this month's project.


The list was headed by the signature of Thomas F. Rainey, Isham's son and one of the administrators of his estate. That known name was followed by some other Rainey family members I still need to identify, beginning with William Rainey. George W. Mealer we first encountered last Friday as the representative of some of Isham's grandchildren of the same Mealer surname. Uriah Duncan we likewise saw last Friday as a representative of one of Isham's daughters. Then came H. C. Rainey, unknown to me so far, and another Isham Rainey, possibly the deceased man's grandson, son of Thomas. An illegible signature appears to be W. R. Broo---, followed by H. W. Allen, and yet another Rainey family member whose signature appears to be W. P. Rainey.

How these names fit into the family constellation—if at all, in some cases—may help build that branch of the family tree in answer to my research question for this half-over month.


Image above from the 1845 Monroe County, Mississippi, probate file of Isham Rainey, deceased, courtesy of Ancestry.com.