Rachel and Beyond: Where We Left off With the Tilsons

 

Turns out, it is a helpful habit to develop standardized research routines—those habits you always make sure to do when engaged in the endless pursuit of ancestors. In this case, I'm picking up where I left off last year, concerning my third great-grandmother, Rachel Tilson. Thankfully, I left notes on not only what I had already found, but what I need to do next.

Since there is always more work to do than month to finish it in, at the end of last November, I still hadn't located the information I was seeking on Rachel's father, Peleg Tilson. The main problem was isolating any specifics on his death. Considering Peleg was born in the 1760s, I assure you there should be some signs of his demise. As for a will, though, I have yet to find that particular sign.

The problem with Peleg Tilson was that he wasn't the only Tilson descendant to possess such a name. If you take Peleg to be an unusual name, in the Tilson world that notion would be considered mis-informed. I did manage to eke out a few details on not only one, but three such relatives by that given name, so I've been forewarned to tread cautiously on this research trail.

Mercer Vernon Tilson, author of The Tilson Genealogy, a 1911 collection of genealogical details on many of the descendants of the founding 1638 immigrant Edmund Tilson of Plymouth colony, showed our Peleg as second-born son of William and Mary (Ransom) Tilson. However, as for the date of birth, this Peleg's entry in the book showed an enigmatic "176—" in a place called Saint Clair, once part of Washington County, Virginia.

The only other information provided on Peleg, in his own entry in the Tilson Genealogy volume, was that he moved by 1803 to Tennessee, settling about three miles from the current town of Erwin. Another history book, predating The Tilson Genealogy, mentioned several names of those settling on what was then called "Greasy Cove," including Peleg and, likely, his brother William Tilson—not among the very first, but arriving "a little later." Yet, if he remained—as his marriage and ensuing birth of multiple children would imply—I find no sign of records regarding the disposition of any properties belonging to Peleg after his death.

That, pretty much, is where I left off with my quest to discover the connection between Rachel Tilson and her father Peleg, and their supposed ancestral connection to the passengers of the Mayflower. It's time to dig deeper into available records on Peleg. Fortunately, I was able to find some notes left by an avid history researcher from that region. We'll discuss the man who left those handwritten details tomorrow. 

It Helps to See the Progress

 

I'm a big fan of keeping an eye on progress. Tracking the changes as I work on a goal provides a positive feedback loop that keeps me going. That's why I keep tabs on how I'm doing in my family history endeavors on a biweekly basis. I appreciate a well-meaning pat on the back every once in a while—doesn't everybody?

After mentioning yesterday how my family tree may look more like a bush than a redwood, I attributed that odd shape to my pursuit of collateral lines, especially to work hand in hand with researching my DNA matches. Those collateral lines represent the siblings of grandparents, great-grandparents and beyond—and all their descendants, too. Since one of my research goals is to put every DNA match in his or her proper place in my family tree, I simply could not do that without knowing who my collateral lines descend from.

Last month, for instance, I worked on the collateral lines of my fourth and fifth great-grandparents in the Taliaferro family. Because I don't like to add names without supporting documentation, I could tell my "progress" was evolving quite slowly. But when I tallied up my work over the last two weeks, I was encouraged to see I had been able to add 295 individuals to my tree. Sure, my bush, er, tree has gotten fat enough to contain 32,742 names, but each of those names has a reason for being included in that tree.

Keeping a biweekly tally like that also helps me keep tabs on when unexpected events cause additions to my work. For instance, both last month and this current month my research plans call for me to focus on my mother's ancestors. I haven't worked on my in-laws' tree since last fall. And yet, somehow, some event in the past two weeks prompted me to pull up their tree and add another individual's information, for my count has increased by one person's entry. That tree now has records for 30,793 people. And beginning in April, I'll get back to researching my mother-in-law's line, which will add even more to that tree.

I'm a big fan of "inch by inch." Being consistent in small amounts of work over time can add up to something significant. I keep my records on a spreadsheet, and when I've looked back over the years, I'm amazed to see what I started with. Only a few years ago, those numbers were less than half the size they are now. By now, a little work, day by day, has become a habit I look forward to. The bonus is learning all the fascinating stories I stumble upon in the process as I get to know my extended family better.

. . . But What About D N A ?

 

While this month's research goal requires us to carefully study documents—especially as we push far beyond that magic 1850 census mark where everyone in the household had a name—it might help to take a peek ahead and look at what DNA matches might be available to help us piece together the Tilson family constellation.

Focusing on my test results at AncestryDNA—though I've tested at four other companies—I will draw primarily on their ThruLines program. Mainly, I'm doing this to gain a quick and dirty sketch of who else out there has tested their DNA and shown even the slightest connection with a Tilson ancestor in their posted family tree. Granted, not every tree on Ancestry.com is in pristine condition, but remember, I'm using this tool as a trailblazer. We'll check the details for each case as we proceed with this month's research goal.

Right off the bat, I can see that my third great-grandmother Rachel Tilson garnered me eight DNA matches to examine. However, remembering that she was married to a Davis man—of which there were several in their northeastern Tennessee neighborhood—I could also tell that his ThruLines listing indicated nine DNA matches at Ancestry.

Pushing back another generation brings the possibility of losing some genealogical matches due to the distance of the relationship, but for those whom I match, I can be more certain that they are connected through the Tilson line instead of another line married into the family. Let's look at Rachel's father, Peleg Tilson, to see how many of those matches remain.

That move does indeed broaden our perspective. For Peleg Tilson, I show fifty four DNA matches, ranging from the doubtful strength of six centiMorgans up to a more reliable fifty eight centiMorgan connection. The increase in matches is not surprising, since Peleg and his wife were parents of at least ten children.

I've been working my way through those fifty four DNA matches in my ThruLines readout at Ancestry. With each suggested line, I go through the generations, checking documentation before I add the proposed relatives descending from Peleg's specific child. Of course, I have several more matches to review, but so far all suggestions seem to bear out. As I progress through that task list, my tree grows more robust with collateral lines, which is fine: it augments my personal research goals.

For those who don't want to include collateral lines in your tree, such a plan may not suit your purposes. With every descendant I can add of my distant ancestors, it bolsters the argument concerning their identity. With each brick wall ancestor I encounter, a side step to a collateral line can sometimes help me break through that research impasse. Sure, my tree may be more bushy than tall, but ever so gradually—and confidently—I am pushing back to my fifth and sixth great-grandparents.

Rule Number One: Start With Yourself

 

It is from my third great-grandmother Rachel Tilson that I have a potential connection with the line of a Mayflower passenger. That, of course, is what propels my research quest this month. My goal is to be able to sufficiently document a connection beginning with my maternal grandfather's Davis family, then moving through my Tilson ancestors until the matrilineal connection with Priscilla Mullins, wife of John Alden. However, everybody who has done family history research knows that we don't begin with such starry-eyed litanies; for our genealogical research, we begin with ourselves, then only move beyond that point step by step and document by document. Today, I'll begin recounting the pathway from my current, obviously personally known, family to the Tilson nexus.

My maternal grandfather, born in 1897, was a Davis. He was born in the tiny town of Erwin, Tennessee, in the northeast corner of the state nestled amidst the Blue Ridge Mountains and flush with the North Carolina state border. He was the youngest, and only surviving son, of the six children of "Will" and "Cassie" Boothe Davis.

His father Will—officially William David Davis—was, in turn, son of Thomas, who was son of James Davis. It was with this James Davis that the family line was established in the area around Erwin, Tennessee—although at that earlier time, the settlement was part of Washington County in that same state. I know the family was in the area at least as early as 1822, for that is when, according to an index of marriage licenses in Washington County, James made Rachel Tilson his bride.

While Rachel was obviously in Tennessee for her 1822 wedding, that is not where she began life. On Monday, we'll review what is already known about her early years before she—and, presumably, the rest of her family—arrived in Tennessee. From that point, we'll explore what can be found on that particular Tilson line in Virginia for the next few generations.

A Tilson To - Do List

 

Before launching into a new research goal, I find it helpful to draw up a list of steps I want to take and possible resources to locate. Now that we're into a new month, my March quest to connect my Tilson line to some passengers on the famed Mayflower will likely fill the entire month. Here are a few items I want to include on my Tilson to-do list.

First on my list is to check what I've already accomplished. Since this is a re-take on a research goal from past years, it will help to read through the posts I've already noted in this blog. (Yes, I have an ulterior motive for blogging.) Next is to re-assemble my resources which I had found in past forays, such as online books and scanned documents from past trips to Salt Lake City's Family History Library, to keep their links and hard copies handy as I work through this month's project. But most of all, I want to work through my family tree database to make sure I haven't missed any documents which may have been uploaded to online services since I last passed this way.

Once I re-orient myself to what has already been accomplished, the path forward will become more clear. One positive aspect of genealogical research is that every discovery seems to propel the researcher forward, every discovery prompts new questions and delivers new resources for the next step.

I anticipate delving into the online catalog of FamilySearch for records in the Virginia counties where the Tilsons once lived—but since many records previously available online during the pandemic have since been retracted, I expect to drive to my local library or one of the larger FamilySearch libraries in my area to access material at their location. WorldCat may also remain at my fingertips this month, although realizing that not all libraries participate in that consortium, I've remembered to look up what my own local library features in our genealogical reference section, too. Tax records, property records, and especially wills will be top of the list for documents to target.

While I get busy on this to-do list in the background, though, let's start tomorrow reviewing the line in my family which leads to those Tilson ancestors in question this month.

 

Back on the Tilson Trail

 

When it's time to welcome in a new month, I flip over the page on my research calendar to a new challenge. That's what I outlined at the beginning of the year in my list of the Twelve Most Wanted ancestors I want to find. This month, I'll be returning to the Tilsons of southwestern Virginia and, eventually, northeastern Tennessee.

The task won't be easy. I've been stuck on this one for years, even after making that family my research target for March of 2020. Of course, back then I had great plans to spend time at Salt Lake City's enormous Family History Library. If there is an answer to be found to my research question, that would be the one place to contain any leads.

We all know what happened to those plans in 2020. In fact, mine became only one set of likely millions of plans and dreams that had to be set aside for the lockdowns following the announcement of the severity of Covid. I did try picking up the research trail last November, when I realized things weren't going to work for another research plan I had slated for that month.

Hence, the addition of the Tilson family to my goals for this month. In these thirty one days of March, I'm hoping to find enough documentation to link my Tilson line to a daughter of a daughter of...well, you get the idea. Let's just say that Priscilla Mullins of Mayflower fame was on the matriline of my sixth great-grandmother Janet Murdock, wife of Stephen Tilson. And that couple's son William was the one who launched out into the wild, moving from the Massachusetts settlement at Plympton to the southwest edges of colonial Virginia.

The problem with researching ancestors who were living out in the middle of nowhere—at least for those trying to locate documents on such ancestors—is that there may have been very little documentation going on. Not to mention the time period in which I'm trying to find this family, leading up to the close of the Seven Years' War, better known in its North American theater as the French and Indian War. At the close of that conflict, the King of England's Royal Proclamation of 1763 basically told my Tilson ancestors that they could no longer live where they had settled. Then what?

That's where my problem lies: in tracing the Tilsons of that generation back to Janet Murdock, where I can connect to the official "Silver Books" of the Mayflower Society. This month, I'll again try my hand at connecting those dots.

 

Ran Out of Month: Now What?

 

We all knew this would be a short month. Happens every year. Even those "bonus" years with an extra day still leave us feeling like we've been pulled up short. That's February for you.

That leaves me with far more research for my February goal than I have month to stash it in. That is nothing new when it comes to family history research. There is always more to find. Sometimes, the discoveries take us on detours or lead us to unexpected revelations. But when that happens in February, I make a mental note: in the future, leave month two of my Twelve Most Wanted plan for a slam-dunk proposition. Nothing difficult.

So...what to do with the leftovers of my quest to discover more about my Taliaferro roots?

For all the children of my fifth great-grandparents, Zachariah and Mary Boutwell Taliaferro, I'd like to fill in the blanks on their basic details. Birth, death, locations, name of spouse: all these help fix the identity of each child and keep me from confusing them with others of the same name and generation. Likewise, I'd do that for the previous generation: the children of Richard and Rose Berryman Taliaferro.

Along the way in this month's research journey, I found some other possibilities for future research. These come from wanting to learn more about the maternal lines in these generations. First, I'd go back to my fourth great-grandfather, also named Zachariah, to delve into the family history of his wife, Margaret Chew Carter. Both the Carter line and the Chew surname are rich with potential discoveries. I'd like to know more about these families and how my line connects there.

Then, too, I know very little about the senior Zachariah's wife, Mary Boutwell. I'll scout out the possibilities to see whether there is enough digitally-accessible material to merit a month's research focus for next year. Finally, Rose Berryman, wife of Richard Taliaferro, may be another research possibility.

This signals me to change my approach on selecting my Twelve Most Wanted for the upcoming year. Instead of saving that process for the peaceful, reflective time between Christmas and New Year when I usually tackle that question, I'll now make notes to refer back to, once I get to that end-of-year process in December.

In the meantime, as usual, I'll list the research questions I still need to tackle on my unfinished goal for this month. That list will serve as a tickler to refocus my attention, the next time I have an opportunity to revisit the Taliaferro family. With a new month upon us, though, it's time to move on to the next of my Twelve Most Wanted for 2023.

For tomorrow? Another research challenge.