Still Tracing Those Tilsons

 

Behind the scenes, ever since Ancestry.com updated their DNA ethnicity results this month, I've been reconstructing one branch of my maternal Tilson line. The reason? I have a new DNA match who connects to that same Tilson line. As I always do with my DNA matches, I like to show where that person belongs in my tree to confirm the relationship both on paper and genetically.

There's only one catch, however: his posted tree and mine don't seem to match. There are doubtless many reasons for that. Hence the tedium and delay in reaching any documented conclusion.

The problem may lie in the propensity of our ancestors to recycle given names. Specifically, there are too many Thomas Tilsons in the family's history. As far as the paperwork goes, one of us may have zigged when we should have zagged down that branch of the family.

Admittedly, I took a long look at the one published genealogy of the Tilson line, assembled by Mercer V. Tilson in 1911. While I cross check all material I find in books like this by current research tools and resources, I know this book has been considered a dependable source. Though the volume was published well over one hundred years ago and thus not currently in circulation, it is still accessible in searchable format on Internet Archive. For those who have subscriptions to Ancestry.com, the Mercer Tilson book is also included in their collection labeled "North America, Family Histories, 1500-2000." Using the sidebar to the right of that search page on Ancestry, that specific volume can be isolated for your search, then the result added right to your tree.

Of course, we can use such nifty search devices only if we are certain of the addition. In this DNA case, each of us has pointed to a different Thomas Tilson. Thus, I'm back to tree building.

The Tilson family is of particular interest to me, only because of yet another family to which it links: all the way back to John Alden and Priscilla Mullins of Mayflower heritage. I've been working on documenting my branch of this line for years, and there is still so much work yet to be done. It is mind boggling to think of all the descendants of this Tilson line, let alone the full complement of Alden descendants. And yet, it takes proceeding step by step—adding DNA matches with the proper documentation when available—to reach such a goal.

Ancestor #3: The Most Wanted of the Most Wanted

In a few days, we will begin the new year of 2020. In that year, among other commemorations, will be the celebration of the 400th anniversary of the landing of the Mayflower. On that tiny ship, among all those other significant passengers, was one crew member who turned out to be my tenth great-grandfather. If, by now, you've guessed I'm related to John Alden, you've astutely identified the far side of my research dilemma. However, it's not the beginning of that Mayflower line I'm concerned about, but the distant reaches of his line of descent that teases me by being just out of my grasp.

Here's the reason why: the General Society of Mayflower Descendants provides properly sanctioned resources to trace the five generations stretching from John Alden (and all the other surviving Mayflower passengers) to the level of their second great-grandchildren. In my case, that would lead to Janet Murdock, who married Stephen Tilson (of the well-documented Tilson line). This is all well and good, as long as we stick with those generations in Massachusetts and surrounding areas, but by the time of the next generation—and their son, William Tilson, in particular—the family has removed from those New England colonies to the back end of Virginia.

Ah, you knew Virginia would be showing up somewhere in this saga.

At that point, still during the pre-Revolutionary War era in the 1760s, the line settled in what was then Washington County, Virginia—until some of the family line moved further on. Some family members continued on to Kentucky—or so the report goes—while the branch including my fifth great-grandfather moved only a short distance to settle in the northeastern part of Tennessee by the early 1800s.

Somewhere in all those colonial documents and early church records from the backwoods of Virginia are likely mentions of this family of William and Marcie Tilson, but as far as I can reach from my armchair researcher's spot out in California, I can't seem to put together the necessary paper trail to connect William's granddaughter Rachel, wife of Tennessean James C. Davis, to her rightful place in not only the Tilson line, but also the key line leading all the way back to John Alden and Priscilla Mullins. While I can find hundred-year-old books which, for their own parts, make the assertions which, connected, would lead me all the way back to my goal, I can't find the documentation to bring me clearly from Point A (where I leave off with Rachel Tilson Davis) to Point X, where the Mayflower landed with my tenth great-grandparents.

Hopefully, my strategy to see what resources can be obtained during my January visit to Salt Lake City will conveniently align with my intention to apply for membership to the Mayflower Society before this celebration of the 400th anniversary comes to a close at the end of next year.

 Above: "Mayflower in Plymouth Harbor," 1882 painting by William Formby Halsall; image courtesy Wikipedia; in the public domain.

According to his Will

It is probably a good thing that the will of Benjamen Bartlett was drawn up in 1717, after his daughter Ruth had already married. One simple mention of that detail in his will allows us to connect the names of Ruth's parents with her married surname, Murdock. Thus, we are provided with the stepping stone to advance us to the next generation in this procession from Mayflower passengers John Alden and Priscilla Mullins through their daughter Elizabeth Alden Pabodie, their granddaughter Ruth Pabodie Bartlett, and now their great-granddaughter Ruth Bartlett Murdock.

From that point, it was a will which provided the next generational step, as well. When Ruth Bartlett Murdock's husband John drew up his will before his passing in 1756, he referred not only to his wife and children, but remembered one particular grandson—as the Elizabeth Alden genealogy put it, "grandson Tillson," the son of Stephen Tillson—to whom he gifted his farm.

That "Tillson," of course, handily directs us to the next generation in our journey from the Mayflower's landing to our times. John Murdock and his wife, the former Ruth Bartlett, had among their children one daughter who had married said Stephen Tilson. Her name has been referenced variously as Janet, Jennet, or Jeannette.

It was during this generation, incidentally, that though the property in Plympton, Massachusetts, was provided to him, Stephen Tilson's eldest son was soon found to be settled and raising his own family, not in Plympton—not even in Massachusetts—but far to the west in Virginia.

Of course, that brings up the question: what happened? Why, if provided for with this bequest of property, did he marry in Plympton, yet move so far away to settle and raise his own family? To answer that, we need to shift from the resources provided in the Alden genealogy to a separate recounting of the family history of the Tilson line. And even there, we'll need to read between the lines, for the legal records only document the basic outline of the story.
 

Above: "Embarkation of the Pilgrims," 1857 oil on canvas by American artist Robert Walter Weir; courtesy Google Art Project via Wikipedia; in the public domain.

Googling for Colonial Significance

It is certainly a different world, plying my genealogical research craft to the world of colonial ancestors instead of scouring passenger lists for American immigrants of the late 1800s. Still, that doesn't necessarily mean I must resign myself solely to dusty archives or crumbling documents. As I traced one of my lines to the granddaughter of Mayflower passengers John and Priscilla Alden, I couldn't help but notice how many results came up when I took those colonial names and plugged them into the search bar at Google. Old World meets New.

It seems incredible that names like Richard Warren (Mayflower passenger) or Love Brewster (son of William Brewster) would be on the tip of the tongue of twenty first century Americans. And, in case you missed my tongue firmly planted in cheek, those names aren't. Yet, a quick search revealed that each of them has a Wikipedia entry. Somebody knew about them. And thought somebody else might be interested.

Perhaps arrival on the Mayflower conferred a sort of "street cred" among colonials. Names of those early arrivals were noted by someone, obviously, but I wondered how my luck would hold out if I tried searching for the next generation.

Using the 1897 publication by Mrs. Charles L. Alden, Elizabeth (Alden) Pabodie and Descendants, as our unofficial guide (for my final bid to become a member of the General Society of Mayflower Descendants, of course I'll need to align with what has been verified in the "Silver Books"), we left off yesterday with John and Priscilla's granddaughter, Ruth Pabodie Bartlett.

She and her husband, Benjamin Bartlett, likely had nine children. This, though, may be difficult to verify as a complete list, for apparently there have been issues in which listings of Benjamin Bartlett's children may have been confused with those of Samuel Bartlett. The Elizabeth Pabodie author limits her list to those children gleaned solely from mention in Benjamin's will.

In particular, for our purposes, we are interested in Ruth and Benjamin's daughter Ruth. Born in Duxbury, Massachusetts, where the Alden and associated families moved after adhering to their seven-year obligation to the Plymouth colony, the younger Ruth eventually married John Murdock, son of the elder John Murdock and his wife Lydia Young.

While the earlier Mayflower generations provided me with names easily found on sites like Wikipedia, subsequent generations didn't carry as much historical gravitas, apparently, for while I can locate several ancestral names from this portion of my lineage, they are more likely to be found on genealogy websites than general interest pages.

Still, I can find information, thanks to Google—requiring further independent verification, of course—everywhere from the "Memories" section of FamilySearch.org to the online database listing the descendants of John and Priscilla Alden, provided by the Alden Kindred of America. That organization, interestingly enough, claims as one of its founding members—and treasurer—a gentleman by the name of Charles L. Alden, a name which we've seen affixed to a particular genealogy book of Alden descendants.

None of this I would have known if I hadn't decided to try my hand at Googling some of my ancestors' names. Granted, if there wasn't the cachet of being people associated—even several generations removed—with the landing of the Mayflower, perhaps these names wouldn't have been as ardently sought after. It's the demand that created the supply in this case. But I'm glad for access to that supply thanks to Google, nonetheless.

Above: The Mayflower in Plymouth Harbor, by British-born American marine painter William Formby Halsall in 1882; courtesy Wikipedia; in the public domain.

Where There's One, There Will be More

Much as I learned when I researched the family line entitling me to membership in the Daughters of the American Revolution, the likelihood of being related to more than one individual bestowing membership privileges in a lineage society is quite possible. And now, just as I learned back then in my DAR application, the same may apply to membership in the General Society of Mayflower Descendants.

Yesterday, I mentioned descending from Elizabeth, the oldest child of John and Priscilla Alden. As the oldest child of one of the first Mayflower couples married in the New World, Elizabeth also achieved the status of being the first white woman born in the New England colony.

From the time of Elizabeth's 1623 birth until the time of her 1644 marriage, there had been other ships arriving in the New England area including, presumably, the one upon which her future husband William Pabodie arrived. William was noted as being from the colony of Duxbury, a locale near Plymouth colony incorporated in 1637 after the original Mayflower settlers were released from their contractual obligation to remain in a tight-knit community for the first seven years after their landing. Eventually, as the colonists spread out to establish farms in the area, the Alden family also had moved to Duxbury.

One genealogy of Elizabeth's descendants, drawn up over one hundred years ago, provides details of the thirteen children born to Elizabeth and her husband, William Pabodie. For our purposes, the one we are interested in following next is their eighth child, Ruth.

Ruth, born to Elizabeth and William in 1658, married at a young age in 1673 a man by the name of Benjamin Bartlett. Here we see one Mayflower descendant marrying another Mayflower descendant—not a surprising occurrence, considering we are by this point barely over fifty years out since the landing of the Mayflower. The matter of the close-knit community compounds the possibility.

As the 1897 Elizabeth Alden genealogy put it, Ruth's intended was son and namesake of Benjamin Bartlett and Sarah Brewster Bartlett. Looking even further into Benjamin's own genealogy, now we begin to see more names we recognize from that list of the original Mayflower passengers:

He was grandson of Robert Bartlett who...married Mary, daughter of Richard Warren, a "Mayflower" pilgrim. He was also grandson of Love and Sarah (Collier) Brewster, and great-grandson of Elder William and Mary (  ) Brewster, who also came in the "Mayflower."

So technically, by virtue of this marriage of John and Priscilla Alden's granddaughter (and one of my ancestors) Ruth to Benjamin Bartlett, I can also say I am a descendant of Mayflower passenger Richard Warren, plus William Brewster and his wife, as well.

Above: Drawing, 1904, by Alfred Stevens Burbank, representing Elder William Brewster, published in 1911 in A. C. Addison's The Romantic Story of the Mayflower Pilgrims and Its Place in the Life of Today; courtesy Wikipedia; in the public domain.   

What the Silver Books Tell Me

It all comes down to what is in the Silver Books. If you want to start on the journey to discover whether you descend from any of the passengers on the Mayflower, you have to start by demonstrating a direct line connection to one of the people listed in those books.

That's what the two members manning the GSMD exhibit at a recent genealogical conference assured me: it all has to check out with the Silver Books. And, of course, you have to present a credible paper trail between your line and those documented in the Mayflower Society's Silver Books.

Since my alleged Mayflower ancestors were supposed to be John Alden and Priscilla Mullins, I thought it would be a wise step to see where I could access those Silver Books. While I certainly am eager to attain membership status in the Society, I'm not sure I'm as eager to part with my hard-earned money in springing for purchase of those books. In my mind, they are hardcover tomes exacting a respectable purchase price.

My go-to response: look it up online. Yes, I know I can drive ninety miles to the Oakland office of the California Mayflower Society—and I will likely do that, before this project is over. But I could just as easily check it out by searching through the main website of the General Society.

When I did, though, it was cause for a slight adrenaline rush: many of the volumes were listed as "out of stock"—whether "temporarily" or "indefinitely" or, more ominously, "out of stock" with no qualifying explanation whatsoever. What was that supposed to mean?

Fortunately, my search style involves clicking on links and wandering around until I find an answer I like. Somehow, I found my way to a file entitled "Guide to the Multi-Part Volumes of the GSMD Silver Book Series." There, thankfully starting alphabetically with the very entry I was seeking, was an explanation of the five part series devoted specifically—and solely—to the descendants of John and Priscilla Alden.

Part One, itself, covered the first four generations. Considering John and Priscilla had nine children who had descendants, there was a lot of material to cover, and the continuation of that file outlined which volumes covered which descendants' lines. I've already seen, from other genealogies, that my line descended from John and Priscilla's daughter Elizabeth, so I already know I would also need to see Part Two of the Alden set.

Of course, there are other resources detailing the generations following John and Priscilla Alden.  For instance, the Wikipedia entry for Priscilla Alden includes a listing of their children. The Wikipedia article also links to an article about their daughter Elizabeth, where a footnote mentions the 1897 volume by Mrs. Charles L. Alden, Elizabeth (Alden) Pabodie and Descendants.

The question, though, is whether they are as "impeccably" reliable as the Silver Books are said to be. For now, I'm happy to use the less-than-perfect as my thumbnail sketch of Elizabeth Alden's descendants on the route to Mayflower Society membership. In good time, those researchers' work will be tested by the genealogists who thoroughly examine such claims in membership applications to their Society.

Above: "The Bridal Procession" of John Alden and Priscilla Mullins, illustration from the 1886 publication of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem, The Courtship of Miles Standish; courtesy Wikipedia; in the public domain.

"Why Don't You Speak for Yourself?"

Almost anyone familiar with the saga of the Mayflower's landing in the New World will recall the names of passengers John Alden and Priscilla Mullins, and her retort to his proposal, immortalized in the account by poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: "Why don't you speak for yourself, John?"

When I first discovered my eligibility to join the General Society of Mayflower Descendants, I learned it was through this couple's line that I gain my link.

Of course, I haven't done all the hard work to trace that lineage back to the 1600s. I've been advised, thanks to some well-documented genealogies of past eras. In fact, the key to the discovery came when I was researching my maternal grandfather's descent from the Tilson line, thanks to the genealogy published in 1911 by Mercer V. Tilson.

Granted, that book was published more than one hundred years ago. A lot has changed in the research world since then. We have such ease of access, compared to prior centuries, and can pull up records to verify assertions which an author of that time period would be hard pressed to obtain quickly. Yet, genealogies of that era are held in such high regard that we tend to forget that, just as we can do now, those researchers of prior time periods could easily have made mistakes in their research.

That's why I like to take those old genealogies and run their assertions through the mill, testing each step of the lineage against digitized records to see what can be supported by documentation. I'm still in that process, but you can be assured my speed will be supercharged with this new goal of applying for Mayflower Society membership.

Even though I haven't yet proved the line for myself, I have one more resource encouraging me. A supplement to the original Tilson genealogy, published sixty seven years after the original Tilson genealogy, asserted that the connection between the first five generations—documented in the Society's "Silver books"—and my Tilson line was reliably recorded.

I'll outline the generations for you, beginning tomorrow. But for now, suffice it to say the task ahead of me will involve three parts.

The first, of course, is to insure (at least for my own peace of mind) that the span of the already-documented five generations from John Alden and Priscilla Mullins does indeed reach to the woman linking to my Tilson line: Janet Murdock. This can be accomplished, once I see those Silver books with my own, inquiring eyes.

The next step is to follow the Tilson line, as shown in The Tilson Genealogy, through as far as my particular line is included in the book, and insure that I have documentation for each generation's details as given in the genealogy—or, if incorrect, obtain the proper information.

From that point onward, I'm on my own. That is the point where my earliest Davis forebears arrive in Virginia, and then northeastern Tennessee, by the early 1800s. A small part of that segment is already documented, thanks to my application for membership in the Daughters of the American Revolution. But that's only a small part of the big picture. Where my DAR application branches to the maternal side of my grandparents' lines, the Mayflower project will take me to the paternal side of that couple.

That third part is where I'll begin the journey in piecing together my argument, for in all genealogical projects, we need to start from what we know, and work our way back in time from that vantage point. So, once again, I face another challenge to document the story of a couple who, for whatever reason, decided to change their names without any legal authorization. Only last time, the burden of proof was eased by virtue of a family whose letter-writing propensities awarded me the benefit of the doubt. This time, thanks to the nature of life in the rural communities of the Tennessee hills, there won't be as many written traces of proof to support my contention.

Above: Postcard, circulated from about 1930 through 1945, representing Priscilla and John Alden, from the Tichnor Brothers Postcard Collection at Boston Public Library via Wikipedia; in the public domain.