It all began with my interest in genealogy, which I got from Mrs. Ernestine Simpson, a widow I met at Bay Arbor, in Florida, when I went there three summers ago. I certainly didn’t like Florida — far too expensive, if you ask me, and far too bright, and with just too many mosquitoes and other insects to be believed — but I wouldn’t say the trip was a total loss, since it did interest me in genealogical research, which is certainly a wonderful hobby, as well as being very valuable, what with one thing and another.
Actually, my genealogical researches have been valuable in more ways than one, since they have also been instrumental in my meeting some very pleasant ladies and gentlemen, although some of them only by postal, and of course it was through this hobby that I met Mr. Gerald Fowlkes in the first place.
But I’m getting far ahead of my story, and ought to begin at the beginning, except that I’m blessed if I know where the beginning actually is. In one way of looking at things, the beginning is my introduction to genealogy through Mrs. Ernestine Simpson, who has since passed on, but in another way the beginning is really almost two hundred years ago, and in still another way the story doesn’t really begin until the first time I came across the name of Euphemia Barber.
Well. Actually, I suppose, I ought to begin by explaining just what genealogical research is. It is the study of one’s family tree. One checks marriage and birth and death records, searches old family Bibles and talks to various members of one’s family, and one gradually builds up a family tree, showing who fathered whom and what year, and when so-and-so got married, and when so-and-so died, and so on. It’s really fascinating work, and there are any number of amateur genealogical societies throughout the county, and when one has one’s family tree built up for as far as one wants — seven generations, or nine generations, or however long one wants — then it is possible to write this all up in a folder and bequeath it to the local library, and then there is a record of one’s family for all time to come, and I for one think that’s important and valuable to have even if my youngest boy, Tom, does laugh at it and say it’s just a silly hobby. Well, it isn’t a silly hobby. After all, I found evidence of murder that way, didn’t I?
So, actually, I suppose the whole thing really begins when I first come across the name of Euphemia Barber. Euphemia Barber was John Anderson’s second wife. John Anderson was born in Goochland County, Virginia, in 1754. He married Ethel Rita Mary Rayborn in 1777, just around the time of the Revolution, and they had seven children, which wasn’t at all strange for that time, though large families have, I notice, gone out of style today, and I for one think it’s a shame.
At any rate, it was John and Ethel Anderson’s third child, a girl named Prudence, who is in my direct line on my mother’s father’s side, so of course I had them in my family tree. But then, in going through Appomattox County records — Goochland County being now a part of Appomattox, and no longer a separate county of its own — I came across the name of Euphemia Barber. It seems that Ethel Anderson died in 1793, in giving birth to her eighth child — who also died — and three years later, 1796, John Anderson remarried, this time marrying a widow named Euphemia Barber. At that time he was forty-two years of age, and her age was given as thirty-nine.
Of course, Euphemia Barber was not at all in my direct line, being John Anderson’s second wife, but I was interested to some extent in her pedigree as well, wanting to add her parents’ names and her place of birth to my family chart, and also because there were some Barbers fairly distantly related on my father’s mother’s side, and I was wondering if this Euphemia might be kin to them. But the records were very incomplete, and all I could learn was that Euphemia Barber was not a native of Virginia, and had apparently only been in the area for a year or two when she married John Anderson. Shortly after John’s death in 1798, two years after their marriage, she sold the Anderson farm, which was apparently a somewhat prosperous location, and moved away again. So that I had neither birth nor death records on her, nor any record of her first husband, whose last name had apparently been Barber, but only the one lone record of her marriage to my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather on my mother’s father’s side.
Actually, there was no reason for me to pursue the question further, since Euphemia Barber wasn’t in my direct line anyway, but I had worked diligently and, I think, well, on my family tree, and had it almost complete back nine generations, and there was really very little left to do with it, so I was glad to do some tracking down.
Which is why I included Euphemia Barber in my next entry in the Genealogical Exchange. Now, I suppose I ought to explain what the Genealogical Exchange is. There are any number of people throughout the country who are amateur genealogists, concerned primarily with their own family trees, but of course family trees do interlock, and any one of these people is liable to know about just the one record which has been eluding some other searcher for months. And so there are magazines devoted to the exchanging of such information, for nominal fees. In the last few years I had picked up all sorts of valuable leads in this way. And so my entry in the summer issue of the Genealogical Exchange read:
BUCKLEY, Mrs. Henrietta Rhodes, 119A Newbury St., Boston, Mass. Xch data on Rhodes, Anderson, Richards, Pryor, Marshall, Lord. Want any info Euphemia Barber, m. John Anderson, Va. 1796.
Well. The Genealogical Exchange had been helpful to me in the past, but I never received anywhere near the response caused by Euphemia Barber. And the first response of all came from Mr. Gerald Fowlkes.
It was a scant two days after I received my own copy of the summer issue of the Exchange. I was still poring over it myself, looking for people who might be linked to various branches of my family tree, when the telephone rang. Actually, I suppose I was somewhat irked at being taken from my studies, and perhaps I sounded a bit impatient when I answered the phone.
If so, the gentleman at the other end gave no sign of it. His voice was most pleasant, quite deep and masculine, and he said, “May I speak, please, with Mrs. Henrietta Buckley?”
“This is Mrs. Buckley,” I told him.
“Ah,” he said. “Forgive my telephoning, please, Mrs. Buckley. We have never met. But I noticed your entry in the current issue of the Genealogical Exchange—”
“Oh?” I was immediately excited, all thought of impatience gone. This was surely the fastest reply I’d ever had to date!
“Yes,” he said. “I noticed the reference to Euphemia Barber. I do believe that may be the Euphemia Stover who married Jason Barber in Savannah, Georgia, in 1791. Jason Barber is in my direct line, on my mother’s side. Jason and Euphemia had only the one child, Abner, and I am descended from him.”
“Well,” I said. “You certainly do seem to have complete information.”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “My own family chart is almost complete. For twelve generations, that is. I’m not sure whether I’ll try to go back farther than that or not. The English records before 1600 are so incomplete, you know.”
“Yes, of course,” I said. I was, I admit, taken aback. Twelve generations! Surely that was the most ambitious family tree I had ever heard of, though I had read sometimes of people who had carried particular branches back as many as fifteen generations. But to actually be speaking to a person who had traced his entire family back twelve generations!
“Perhaps,” he said, “it would be possible for us to meet, and I could give you the information I have on Euphemia Barber. There are also some Marshalls in one branch of my family; perhaps I can be of help to you there, as well.” He laughed, a deep and pleasant sound, which reminded me of my late husband, Edward, when he was most particularly pleased. “And, of course,” he said, “there is always the chance that you have some information on the Marshalls which can help me.”