An Exploration of Kentucky-Made Silver of the Early Federal Period

Examination of the Hunter Family Silver Beaker

Ca. 1798-99, Bourbon County, Kentucky

Woodford County, Kentucky

By Gary Dean Gardner, Independent Scholar

Generally speaking, the study and evaluation of Kentucky-made silver is ultimately more  advantageous to the scholars of decorative arts than that of others areas of specialty due to the probable existence of silversmiths’ hallmarks.  While not always present, most Southern smiths of the late Colonial to early Federal Period continued the British practice of utilizing identifying marks not only to exemplify pride in their work, but to better identify their wares and even warranty the quality of their cumulative output.  This system, while moderated in America but for a few cities from a complex organizational structure of symbols encompassing maker, date, location and purity down to a minimal designation of the artisan alone, still sufficed in the early days of the United States to offer a fundamental mode of identification.  This was especially true when it is understood that these marks worked in conjunction with the engraved initials of the patron to act as a duel method of documentation to thwart theft and offer a modicum of security in an era of history when the silversmith assumed the role of the modern banker, exchanging and transferring precious metals into various forms of tendered exchangeable wealth.  Coinage of sundry origins, once melted and crafted into a utilitarian object, still represented the same intrinsic value of the bullion, and could upon demand be easily melted into ingot form and once again take on the role of currency. 

Sometimes, however, silver marks can be dismaying to identify, even deceiving due to lack of data or unintentional misinformation perpetuated within the scholarly community.  In such cases, the particular object of study requires a thorough determination of provenance to support new conclusions, or even to dispute earlier attributions made in error.  In the realm of early American silver, a forensic approach may even be required to fully and adequately refute old attributions in light of new research.   Such is the case with the Hunter family beaker, in which form alone fails to distinguish a variant makers’ mark from association with that of another craftsman.

A late 18th century coin silver beaker or julep cup originating in Paris, Kentucky.  

Approx. 3 1/2” H x 3 1/8”; 110 gm.

The cup in question, likely better known in the time of its creation as a beaker rather than the term of “julep” we find more common today, surfaced in early 2015 as part of the vestigial remainder of a Florida estate having been greatly diminished from a much larger family accumulation of Kentucky origin.  Of clearly very early form and construction, and in keeping with a supposed date of creation ca. 1798, it survived along with a scant few other examples of Kentucky coin silver dating to a later time period of several decades difference.  The cup is enhanced with bright-cut decoration in the form of a shield, within which is found the initials WSH standing for its first, or at least an early, owner.  Once again, the decoration and script are reflective of late 18th century style.  Enough information was gathered from the estate liquidator to confirm original ownership by the very early and prominent Hunter family of the Bluegrass Region of central Kentucky. 

Research supported this oral association, indicating early (likely original) ownership by one William Stewart Hunter, primarily of Woodford County, County.  The subject was born June 11, 1780 to William and Mary Stewart Hunter of Versailles, they having arrived in Central Kentucky some years prior from Virginia.  They built an early home approximately 1 mile from the Woodford County Court House.  William Stewart Hunter made his home also about the same distance from Versailles, but on the McCracken’s Mill (aka Glenn’s Creek) Road near to the Frankfort Pike.  His plantation was known as “Dupont.”  On Nov. 13, 1816, he married Catherine Mary Canfield, d/o Abraham and Elizabeth Hunt Canfield.  Hunter represented Woodford County in the Kentucky State Legislature from 1812-15, then again in 1817-1818, and finally 1820, serving at one time alongside noted Lexington craftsman Porter Clay.  Hunter died of cholera on August 13, 1835 in Versailles.  (See The Register of the Kentucky State Historical Society, Volume 19, A History of Thomas Canfield and of Matthew Camfield with a Genealogy of Their Descendants in New Jersey, and Wm. E. Railey’s History of Woodford County, Kentucky.)

Portrait of William S. Hunter:  © John Drew Photograph

While the association with an early Kentucky family makes a similar overall origin seem plausible, the Hunter family beaker’s marks might at first be misleading when making comparison to a published discussion of a similar punch utilized by a  partnership of two silversmiths in early Virginia.  Catherine Hollan, in her remarkable compilation of research entitled  Virginia Silversmiths, Jewelers, Clock– and Watchmakers, 1607-1860, Their Lives and Marks, references on pages 608-609 the  joint work of Virginia silversmiths John Foster and William Phillips who worked together in the small community of Winchester from 1817 until 1820.    She describes and depicts marks  of a “P&F” configuration attributed to their partnership.   As well, she discusses (but fails to illustrate) record of a mark on a large ladle in a private collection.  It would seem, from her description, that this unpictured mark was one of those used by Thomas Phillips along with one or both of the Frazer Brothers (Robert and Alexander) in Bourbon County, Kentucky.  Ms. Hollan records that this particular mark reads “F & P” rather than “P & F”, and is accompanied by an additional city punch for “Paris” in a shaped cartouche, the same extra mark used by Thomas Phillips in later years after the Frazer Brothers ended their partnership(s) with him.  Interestingly, Ms. Hollan attributed this “F & P” variant mark to the time after March of 1799 when Robert Frazer left Paris, Kentucky for Lexington to open an independent shop there, leaving his younger brother Alexander to work in Paris.  Though records neither deny nor corroborate her hypothesis, this scholar agrees with her that Phillips continued to work for a brief time with the younger Frazer, as there is no indication to support the idea that both brothers ended their partnership immediately with Phillips.  The author’s only correction to Ms. Hollan’s conclusions deals with her assumption that this was the only mark utilized by Thomas Phillips while working with either or both of the Frazer's.  As the Hunter family beaker now aids in proving, the partnership utilized at least two distinctly different punches, one of which, likely the first one made, displaying an ordination of  hierarchy placing Thomas Phillips as the initial senior partner as indicated by the “P & F” punch now depicted and here recorded for the first time. 

The unique mark, unrecorded by Boultinghouse or Hollan, as found on the Hunter beaker

Naturally there is found initial similarity in comparing marks composed of the exact same initials, so a closer examination of the punches themselves and the design of the letters is required to accurately rule out the unlikely chance that an early silver beaker with a strong Kentucky provenance to the correct time period could actually bear the marks of a somewhat later (<20 years) rural Virginia silver firm.  Mark (a) as illustrated on p. 607 of Virginia Silversmiths is documented with both a collection history and provenance of ownership to Virginia, so there is no reason to question the mark as shown as being that used by William Phillips and John Foster of Winchester, Virginia.  The punch is designed with a fairly distinct rectangular field within which lie the 3 separate components of the P, ampersand, and F.  The second mark given attribution to this firm, Mark (b), was denoted as being represented on a single spoon in a private collection without recorded provenance to any particular town or region.  Ms. Hollan makes the educated assumption that this mark was also used during the 3 years that this partnership made silver.  While the author doesn’t wish to challenge this conclusion, he would point out that most rural smiths at this time used the same punches for long periods unless they became damaged.  Sometimes they continued their use even then.  Mark (b) is distinctly different from (a) both in proportions and in the style and design of the letters themselves.  Mark (b), as Ms. Hollan points out, is shorter (tighter as she describes), with a very different font design.  The ampersand crosses itself only once, rather than twice as with (a), the left leg ending at an even juncture with the right, which then extends to the very top of the character where it then outspreads to the right to make the  top of the F.   Again, contrary to (a), the serifs of the F in the (b) mark end in an almost floral-like trumpet shaped flourish, a lower/middle serif which truly crosses the F and extends past its back.  Both serifs on the F of Mark (a) end in simple, definitive  and broad downward strokes.  These two marks are so very different, one might speculate that Mark (b) could at some point be attributed to another maker altogether.

Documented mark of the Virginia partnership of Phillips & Foster, so similar, yet distinctively different from that of the Kentucky silversmiths

At this time, however, the author does not feel that the 2nd mark Ms. Hollan infers to be that of Phillips & Foster of Virginia might actually be an unrecorded mark for the similarly named Kentucky entity of Phillips & Frazer.  This mark, while very similar in form to that on the Hunter beaker, does not contain the uniquely cut letters found on both it and later punches used by Thomas Phillips early in the 19th century when working alone.  It is intriguing that the Hunter beaker marks and Mark (b) both incorporate an ampersand that parallels and connects to the F’s top in the mark, but that coincidence alone is not sufficient to draw any conclusion.  The Hunter marks both display an ampersand with a left leg intersecting through the right but resulting in sharp downward angularity.  Again in contrast to the Virginia marks, the serifs on the Hunter mark letter F, while similar in  angular placement, don’t just point downward. The upper does, but the crossing serif to the F creates something akin to a backwards “check mark”, jutting down to the right, then making a vertical rise, the two right serifs ultimately flanking one another.  As well, the Hunter beaker displays the appearance of a marked downward left serif on the top of the F at the juncture with the connecting leg of the ampersand, separating it from both Marks (a) and  (b). 

 The differentiation in the design and cut of the letter P in the Hunter beaker marks, more than any other indicator, would tend to leave Hollan’s Mark (b) a mystery, while verifying a relationship to Thomas Phillips’ “TP” cartouches (with or without the additional shaped “Paris” mark).  Actually that rather unique P that Phillips used in his surname becomes a primary forensic indicator in identifying his personal mark when the city mark for Paris is not included.  Even with both marks attributed to the Virginia smiths of Phillips & Foster, there is seen a concentric duplication of the inner and outer lines creating the borders of the positive and negative space of the “belly” or “head” of the P.  This is to be expected, in fact, in most choices of font.  Strangely, this is not seen on the P used on punches by Thomas Phillips of Paris, Kentucky.  Instead, Phillips’ punches contain a P cut with contrasting, rather than concentric, lines defining the “head” of the P.  The outer negative space defines a vertical back and a rounded protrusion to the right, while the inner negative space rotates this “D” shape 90 degrees leftward, giving the semblance of a “D” lying on its back.  This juxtaposition of placement of negative space seems consistent throughout the career of Thomas Phillips, though very oddly he never used the same creative font for the “P” in his shaped punch designating “Paris.”  The Hunter beaker bears a “P & F” cartouche inclusive of this particularly differentiated P within a slightly misshapen, almost a “shaped” rectangle that bulges somewhat to the lower right.  A very similarly cut P utilized in a “T P” cartouche has been documented to an unidentified Scottish silversmith.  Further study is required however before making an attribution to Phillips’ use of marks prior to his arrival in America.

Glasgow, Scotland

In making final verification that the markings on the Hunter beaker coincide with that of Thomas Phillips from his earliest working dates in America in the 18th century rather than William Phillips from toward the end of the 1st quarter 19th century, we must as well examine the form itself.  No hollowware is recorded to the Virginia partnership of Phillips & Foster. (One Lexington antiques dealers explains that he once handled a pair of juleps bearing a P&F mark which he sold on the assumption they were made in Virginia.  Likewise, he recalls a similarly bright-cut decorated beaker with a P&F mark selling at auction in Tennessee some years prior, again represented as being by Phillips & Foster but without a Virginia collection history.  Sadly, no visual record of the marks on these three cups was retained.  There is great probability that all were actually crafted by Thomas Phillips and the Frazer brothers in Paris, Kentucky*.)  The Hunter beaker reflects a shape, size, and construction style appropriate for the late 18th century.  As previously mentioned, the bright-cut engraved shield decoration is fitting with an attribution of craftsmanship in the later 1790s.  This form of motif and engraving style would be somewhat outdated by 1817.  It is clearly much earlier than the ca. <1820 era when the Virginia firm worked.  Comparable decoration is documented on Virginia silver, but once again found only examples dating to this earlier period of ca. 1795 (see Hollan’s In the Neatest, Most Fashionable Manner:  Three Centuries of Alexandria Silver, pp. 27 & 29).  To date, no other example of Kentucky hollowware has been noted from so early an era*, much less with this sort of decoration.  It would appear to be the earliest such example of decorated Kentucky silver thus far documented. 

It should be here noted that the career of Thomas Phillips has yet to be fully and correctly laid out.  Previously, in Mark Boultinghouse’s 1980 publication Silversmiths Jewelers, Clock and Watch Maker of Kentucky 1785-1900, the biography of Phillips indicated he was an early settler of Nelson County, Kentucky.  This is apparently incorrect, as is his date of death and the place of his burial.  This attribution apparently comes from confusion with Thomas Fretwell Phillips (1729-1810), formerly of Charles Parrish, Virginia, who settled in Nelson County and resided there until his death.  In actuality Thomas Phillips was a Scottish-trained silversmith, having been born in Glasgow, Lenarkshire Scotland on October 10th, 1774 in the central Lowlands region of that country.  He emigrated to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania in the latter half of  the 1790s, staying perhaps a year before moving on to Paris, Kentucky.  Very likely he became introduced to Robert and Alexander Frazer (Frazier) while all three smiths resided there.  They may even have all traveled to Kentucky together.  These dates coinciding so closely, it is highly unlikely that any of these men had time to establish independent shops in Paris initially.  Their group partnership was apt to have been formed by late 1797 or early in 1798.  Robert Frazer exited the business relationship in early spring of 1799, moving on to Lexington, but Alexander remained in Paris.  As mentioned, there is no indication that Alexander Frazer dissolved his working relationship with Thomas Phillips until he too moved to Lexington after March of 1800 to partner with his older brother and their nephew, Robert Frazer Jr., who had come with them from Ireland (reference Bourbon County Tax List for 1800).  That venture also soon ended, with Alexander and Robert working separately by August of 1801.  There is some indication that Samuel Best arrived in Paris that same year and formed a short-lived partnership with Thomas Phillips which was ended by 1802.   No other partnerships are known for Phillips, and it is safely assumed he worked independently from 1802 on.  As for a record of military service, the dates of Phillips’ entry to America clearly rule out any Revolutionary or post-war service under George Rogers Clark. 

Other previously published discrepancies in Thomas Phillips’ life can also now be defined.  He has been confused with Thomas Phillips born in Wales ca. 1776 that emigrated to the U.S. about 1808, settling in Natchitoches, Mississippi and working as a tailor there by 1810.  Thomas Phillips the silversmith has as well been identified with another, later generation, Thomas Phillips who was appointed as a justice when Anderson County, Kentucky was created Feb. 5th, 1827.  Once again, there is no known connection by this Lawrenceburg, Kentucky tavern keeper with the silversmith Thomas Phillips of Bourbon, & later Todd, Counties. 

Phillips remained in Paris during those first years of the new 19th century, marrying the young widow  of Thomas Reeder on May 19th, 1803.  Susannah Edwards Reeder was the daughter of  United States Senator from Kentucky (serving along with John Brown as one of the Commonwealth’s first two senators from June 18, 1792 until March 3, 1795) John Edwards (1748-1837)  and Susannah Wrae.  (John Edwards had assisted in the drafting of Kentucky’s first state constitution. ) There remains some confusion as to the family’s length of stay in Bourbon County after the birth of their daughter Susan in 1804.  They may possibly have explored the notion of moving to Western Kentucky as early as 1806, but we do know, as Boultinghouse cites, their removal to Hopkinsville in Christian County by 1818, some four years after the birth of their daughter Mary Jane.  Their stay there was certainly brief, as they are recorded in the United States Federal Census of Aug. 7, 1820 as residing in Todd County, Kentucky where their household included one “foreigner, not naturalized” as well as 8 slaves and 1 “free person of color.”  Later, Phillips claims a grant of 13 acres on the Elk Fork of the Red River in Todd County, surveyed Feb. 29, 1823 (see Ky. Land Grant Book “N”).  While there is no record of his ever having entirely left Kentucky, as Boultinghouse claims, we do know that Thomas Phillips and family ultimately settled permanently in Elkton, Todd County, Kentucky, where the silversmith died in August 15th, 1843 (see “McReynolds Family Collection 1794-1965”, Western Kentucky University, Todd County, Kentucky Family Histories, 1995, also E. B. Crisman’s Biographical Sketches of Living Old Men of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church).  Susan died 5 years later and was buried beside her husband in the family cemetery there in Todd County near Elkton.  Interred with the couple were their children Emily Phillips Bone (1809-1840), wife of Rev. Matthew Houston Bone, Susan Phillips Reeves (1804-1829), wife of Davis Clarke Reeves,  Ellen Phillips (1819-1838), and son Benjamin E. Phillips (1811-1844).  

©2015gdg

Post Script

Brief mention should also be made here of Robert Fraz(i)er and the perpetuated confusion regarding his extended immigrant family.  It has never been adequately explained that there were two distinctly different men, of differing generations, referred to as “Robert Frazer Jr.”  Robert & Alexander Frazer did clearly either arrive in America with, or were followed very shortly thereafter by, a nephew named Robert.  The 1810 U.S. Federal Census for Bourbon County, Kentucky lists two separate households for the family.  Alexander is shown as head of his own household, while his brother Robert is listed as head of a household that included their nephew Robert Jr.  Per the listing for Robert Frazer Sr., and with the generally accepted date of birth for him of ca. 1769, the elder Frazer was 41 years old.  This fits with the delineation of the Census for “1 white male age 26-44.”  Robert Jr. is found next as “1 white male age 16-25,” putting his date of birth between 1784 and 1794.

There are several possible explanations for the eventual disappearance of this Robert Jr. and the ultimate blending of his history with that of another Frazer relation by the same given name who later migrated to Kentucky from Ireland and also took up residency with the family patriarch, Robert Frazer Sr.  (He may well be the R. Frazer that Boultinghouse referenced in Missouri advertisements for 1821, having migrated nearer to another uncle, James Frazer.) Those theories, however, are best left to a more intense focus upon this entire family and their contribution to Kentucky decorative arts outside the scope of relationship with Thomas Phillips. Let it suffice for now to show and prove that Robert Frazer Jr. II was born in Ireland ca. 1810-19 and is the jeweler referenced when discussing activities of the family during the 2nd and 3rd quarters of the 19th century.  Robert Frazer Jr. I worked as silversmith & watchmaker in Lexington prior to the birth of this younger relation and was likely active from 1800 until ca. 1820.  Little can safely be documented to this individual, though an 18k pocket watch survives in this author’s collection which is marked by Robert Frazer Jr. of Lexington, KY and dates to that period of the 1st quarter 19th century, prior to the age of majority for Rbt. Frazer Jr. II.

 

Very likely Robert Frazer Jr. I was also the man who appeared on War of 1812 service rosters rather than his uncle, Robert Sr.  Regardless, there is little indication that Robert Frazer Jr. I remained in Lexington more than a couple of decades.   Just when he was supplanted by his younger relation as well remains undocumented, but the newcomer’s April, 1831 marriage in Louisville to Catherine E. Coleman was announced in the local newspapers.   The date of their marriage would call into question the 1850 Fayette County U.S. Census listing for the couple, where Robert Jr. II is listed as being 31 years old.  That would make him about 12 at the time he married Catherine, who herself would have been, per these records, just 15.  The 1860 Census, however, confirms an 1819 birth year for Robert Frazer Jr. II, along with an estimated date of birth for Catherine Coleman Frazer of 1813 rather than 1816 per the prior Census.  That at least makes her 18 at the time of her wedding in 1831.  The later Census as well changes Catherine’s place of birth from Pennsylvania to Ireland. 

Despite all the contradictions and void of data, three men bore the name of Robert Frazer in the annals of jewelers and silversmiths in Lexington.  Future scholarship will have to examine immigration records and passenger lists to ferret out the details of this rather complicated familial association.

Compiled & written by Gary Dean Gardner, ©2015.

Sugar Wray, & I Do Mean Leonard!: Sorgham History Revisited, Part III

Yes, yes, this is my 3rd blog post on sorghum, I do realize this, but understand, as I research and speak with folks on this topic, more fascinating facts come to light.  I can't help myself.  I must talk about sorghum! 

This was hinted at in my 1st post, but demand for sugar was escalating in the 1850s, and with it the price.  Even factoring in maple syrup products, supply couldn't meet demand, so American agriculturists, and those in other countries, were active in seeking solutions to the problem, and to find another source of sweetness to supplement the annual output from the traditional sugar cane.

And here the two countries of interest began their competition in food history books. 

Let me be redundant in clarifying.  The sorghum syrup we know today came into being at this point in time, not the 17th or 18th centuries.  While grain sorghum came over from Africa with other native food supplies for the transatlantic slave trade, it was not a sweet variety, and was never intended, or dreamed of, for a sweetening agent.  It wasn't sugar, it was cereal, and relegated to the diets of Southern slaves as a flat bread or pudding/porridge well into the 3rd quarter of the 19th century.  For the rest of the world, for the white empowered world, sorghum, also called guinea corn, was nothing but feed for chickens and cattle.

Then suddenly, early in the 1850s, the world discovers sweet sorghum, Sorgho, "Holcus saccharatus",or Chinese "Sugar Cane" thanks to a French ambassador to Shanghai, China, and within a year or so the Imphee, "sweet reed" or African "Sugar Cane" was found.  Where did it come from originally, China, or Africa?  Ah, there's the rub.  Seemingly, one primary variety was native to china, and some 15 or maybe more native to Africa, though historically no "sugar" was produced by any of the native tribes raising it.  Only the Chinese have a long history of extracting the syrup to reduce.  By some accounts, the seeds traveled from China via Arab traders to Ethiopia, but others say the opposite was true.  Regardless, both sources were recognized at nearly the same time and were quickly dispatched to America, first the Chinese seed, and then the African seed.

Englishman Leonard Wray was in the southeast coast of Africa in March 1851 when he observed Natal "Zulu" tribesmen "snacking" on the stalks of the Imphee plant.  Recognizing the potential for the sugar market, he returned to Europe and cultivated crops in varied locations, experimenting on the extraction of the juices and reduction of syrup, applying for and receiving English patents for his processes that eventually brought him to the attention of Americans with a vested interest in expanding the American sugar trade. 

"Be it known unto all men, that I, Leonard Wray, of the City of London, in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, have discovered a new process or method of making crystallized sugar, syrup and molasses, from all the African and Chinese varieties of the "Imphee" or "Holcus saccharatus" of Linnaeus, often denominated "Sugar millet," "Sorghum saccharatum," "Sorgho sucre'," etc., which process is also applicable to the manufacture of the same products from the juice of the maize, broom corn, the sugar maple, etc."

In essence Wray  was using lime to reduce the acidity levels.  He really didn't make great strides in the overall standard process as developed by De Bore & Morin of Louisiana back in 1795, but we must give him credit for his botanical skills in identification of the many variants of Imphee he was able to observe & classify, and, ultimately, for his entrepreneurship that brought him to America.

Gov. James Hammond 1807-1864 and his "Radcliffe" Plantation

Invited by Governor James Henry Hammond of South Carolina, Wray came to America in March of 1856 to continue experimentation with Imphee crops, and to define a lucrative American market for its cultivation.  He brought seeds of all the varieties he had defined, all grown for him in France, but confusion in harvesting/sorting of the seeds resulted in contaminated seed lots.  Regardless, the Imphee was grown in comparison to the sweet Chinese sorghum in test fields from South Carolina to Canada, but only perhaps 10 of the varieties could eventually be distinguished amongst the final crops examined. 

An early 20th century harvest at "Auvergne."

Today a leading producer of Sorghum, one of the primary test locations chosen by Wray was in central Kentucky.  Planter and horticulturalist Brutus Junius Clay was a marvel of 19th century antebellum ingenuity in the advancement of agriculture.  His plantation, "Auvergne", was, and remains, a model of grace and agrarian industry.  The only Kentuckian to participate in the experiment, Clay provided a summary at the end of the season to document his assessment of the dual sweet sorghums.  He wrote,

"Paris Kentucky 23 November 1857:  Dear Sir, I planted imphee on 23d day of May last.  I broke the ground twice and planted the hills three by four feet apart, two and three seeds in a hill; about three fourths of it grew, hence it was rather thin on the ground.  I did not well mature before frost; the middle of October. 

I think the average product of stalk was no more than eight feet.   They were, however, on third larger than the sorgho, and contained much more juice, of a quality very similar to that of the latter.  It stood up well, large at the bottom and tapers to the top:  is not liable to be blown down by the wind.

The sorgho I planted about the 13th of May.  It came up well, producing talks small and slender, ten to twelve feet high, very apt to be blown down by the wind; but this and the imphee require a little more are than corn.  Of the two varieties of cane, I think the imphee will prove the most valuable plant; if planted earlier and upon a good soil, with a southern exposure, I think it will ripen before frosts.  The past season has been a bad one for a fair experiment; even our corn is not yet dry enough to grind for bread, it has been so backward and late.  Your, Brutus J. Clay"

It would be fascinating now to examine the crop records for "Auvergne" to see what additional notes Clay may have kept, and to see what his choices were for sorghum after his participation with Wray and Governor Hammond.  Most of the farm accounts of "Auvergne" are preserved in the Clay family papers in the Special Collections of the University of Kentucky in Lexington.

"Auvergne" the majestic seat of Kentucky Congressman Brutus J. Clay near Paris, KY

Almost immediately, by 1858 in fact, and surely a result of the well publicized accounts of the Wray-Hammond experimentations, both the Chinese Sorgho ($.25 cents/pound) and the "Wray" or African Imphee seeds ($1/pound) were available to consumers from American seed distributors (4 Feb 1858  "Country Gentleman" Vol. XI No. 5).  Which variety of Imphee were commercially sold this early?  My best answer is any, and all, as seed distributors were quick to enter this market and acquire Imphee somewhat indiscriminately to sell, seeds out of Africa via France.

The failures of Wray's American trials may have themselves inadvertently sealed the fate for his many variants of Imphee that he'd studied and recorded so diligently.  No scientific control methods were implemented in the packaging & shipping of seed samples, and apparently poor, if any, records were kept describing who got what seed to plant.  Wray seems to have had "hands-on" participation only with Governor Hammond.  Shoddy handling of seeds in France was apparent (and likely in the US too by some of the test participants) which, coupled with an improper latitude & climate for some varieties, along with potential cross pollinations, and the aforementioned great rush to obtain seed stock for American distribution, all may have scattered, mixed, and lost many of these varieties before they could ever be fully cultivated and studied in the United States.  Per the Carolina Gold Rice Foundation, 3 of the 15 (or 16) varieties exist today in 2017.

Then again, some of Wray's original varieties may have been but "sports" or natural mutations of a smaller group of Imphee than he realized, something even Wray hints at in later comments.  As well, again as Wray states, sweetness varied, and some of the 15 may not really have been conducive in volume or sweetness to any sort of commercial syrup extraction, but suited more for grain cultivation.  It seems unlikely that so many truly differing varieties would be found in a small section of Africa, yet only one is identified in all of China.  With respect to Wray, his enthusiastic observations may have exaggerated the accuracy of his count.

David S. Shields explores all this in detail in his book, Southern Provisions:  The Creation and Revival of a Cuisine.  He explains that the simultaneous introduction of both the Chinese and African plants established the "basic breeding stock from which all the marketable varieties of sorghum originated." 

Wray, we might presume, went on to other pursuits, and failed even himself, quite oddly, to retain seed of all the Imphee varieties he originally documented, having sold most of his store of seeds to horticultural publisher A. O. Moore of New York immediately after the American test cultivations .  Moore in turn quickly advertised 10 of the 15 varieties for sale, corroborating the field notes of Wray that these were the only ones to clearly survive the test season, with most, or all, of these coming from Governor Hammond's fields.

On 7th Sept. 1882 Wray wrote the US Commissioner of Agriculture, speaking of his published pamphlet on the subject (an American version was included in an 1857 publication by H. S. Olcott, who opted to edit out references to crystallized sugar made from the plant), politely criticizing the Commissioner for changing his very African names of the varieties as discussed in Department reports, and requesting seed samples of some of the same so as to propagate his own plants from them.  (See Investigation of the Scientific & Economic Relations of the Sorghum Sugar Industry, National Academy of Science, Nov. 1882.  Olcott's book, Sorgho & Imphee, the Chinese & African Sugar Canes:  A Treatise Upon Their Origin, Varieties, & Culture, both the first issue of 1857 & the addendum of 1858, provides the most complete and comprehensive contemporary published history of Wray's work in America.)

Overall, the product of these test crops of Imphee, despite Wray's assurance, wouldn't granulate as anticipated.  The end result was a rich sweet syrup, not the replacement of refined sugar that Wary anticipated, but still a Southern staple today.  Never to displace sugar from cane, sorghum supplied a need in the South, and found an important place in our recipes and on our tables.

I'll conclude with a simple listing of the varieties noted by Wray (1-12) & Moore (1-10) in order of Moore's advertisements, new names applied by the 1880s, and the seeds Wray either didn't retain, lost, or allowed to become too old to germinate.  Those referenced as having been salvaged from the South Carolina fields of Gov. Hammond are marked by asterisk*.

1)  Oomseeana* (sold & not kept or lost by Wray- asked for new seeds)
2)  Booeeana*
3)  Koombana* (saved by Wray but deteriorated-asked for new seeds) aka Imphee Liberian, aka Sumac
4)  Neeazana*
5)  Enyama* (saved by Wray but deteriorated- asked for new seeds) aka White Mammoth
6)  Eanamoodee
7)  Boomvwana* (Boomvrana is as well referenced, and these are likely the same)
8)  Shlagoova
9)  Eengha
10) Sorghokabaie*
11) Minnesota E. Amber (sold & not kept, or lost by Wray- asked for new seeds) aka (?)
12) Vimbischuapa (or per Wray "Sorghum Brother) aka Honduras, aka Honey, aka Mastodon

We Gather Together, for 175 Years: Methodism in Hodgenville, Kentucky

What follows is an expanded version of my historical overview written for the Quartoseptcentennial Celebration in 2014 for Hodgenville United Methodist Church's 175 (actually a bit more) years of spiritual & community service to the people of LaRue County, Kentucky. 

It has taken awhile, but I think at last we as a church body have an identity. It was never an easy task for a small congregation so long on the fringes of established religion. Not to say that Hodgenville Methodists lacked faith. I think they had that in abundance from the beginning. No, it was only an identity that we as a congregation lacked for a long period of time, but looking back to our origins, that isn’t too terribly hard to understand. 

From the time of the first Euro-African settlement, and until Kentucky gained its statehood, we considered ourselves Nelson Countians. We hardly gave thought of a denominational identity at first, but even then we knew what county we were from! For the next 50 years, now an official recognized faith only 8 years old, we thought of ourselves as Hardin Countians, and our fledgling congregations began to organize. Then we up & change our identity once again in 1843 and become LaRue Countians! Still, as Methodists, we didn’t have an easy time becoming “established” in territory dominated by Baptists that spurned the old Anglican traditions, especially when some of our first members still clung to other older denominations & the original Methodist concept of “classes” as opposed to organized church.

But slowly things changed. Itinerant clergy like Peter Cartwright gave way to appointments. 2nd & 3rd generations were born into the church. We started to feel solid, unified, & firmly planted in the community. The venerated grey heads that began to dot the congregation were those of dedicated members with names as old as the long-dismantled pioneer fort. As we gained a history, we gained an identity. We took pride in the present out of a pride for the past. Today, we gather together to remember and celebrate not just a history, but a proudly shared common identity that has never yielded, never fractured or split in 175 years.

Over the past several months (referencing a series of bulletin inserts discussing the history of the church)we have read the vignettes of our congregational story as told by our windows. Like the light itself, these have been only glimmers of the entire saga. Many who deserved such memorials were never so remembered. This is especially so of the many who have ministered to us. We forget just how young Methodism was when it first took hold in the Bluegrass of Kentucky. Beginning as a communal study & fellowship rather than a denomination, that first Kentucky “class” was organized in 1783, the year before the very first Conference in 1784 to acknowledge Methodism formally. Appointed by Wesley himself, our first Bishop, Francis Asbury, was unanimously elected. He would officially recognize the Kentucky Circuit in 1786, at which time only about 90 settlers professed their ties to the young faith. To strengthen those ranks, Asbury himself traveled west to officiate over our 1st Annual Conference in May of 1790. This was no easy task. He recorded the perils of the frontier due to Indian attack when he wrote in his journals how they “saw the graves of the slain– 24 in one camp.”

Yet Asbury’s efforts were fruitful. By year’s end, Kentucky boasted a Methodist population of 1,459 white and 94 slave members, all spiritually led by only 9 ministers who served the entire state. Then a part of the Danville Circuit, residents of Phillips’ Fort & Goodin’s Station, those early fortifications that would eventually supply the first residents of Hodgenville, would have to wait some time for the famed Circuit Riders to finally carry their ministry that far inland from the church base closer to Lexington. In those earliest years, when still a part of Nelson County, the first faithful Methodists here studied together in their homes until the arrival of Rev. John Baird from Maryland. His first sermon in what was to be LaRue County was preached on August 7, 1796, after which he formed our county’s first Methodist Society which grew into the rural church that serves LaRue Co. to this day. 

There is no doubt that those residing in the area of “Hodgen’s Mill” took advantage of the country ministry of Rev. Baird until such a time as a Society could take root in town. Prior church historians even hint that the local Society that formed the nucleus of our church’s initial congregation was actually a direct result of Baird’s efforts. As well, those early Methodists in Hodgenville surely took religious guidance from the “Elizabeth Circuit,” once the old Salt River Circuit, which supplied the initial Methodist ministers to Elizabethtown & Hardin County, including our portion that “seceded” in 1843. Founding families of Methodism there, including the Helms whose descendants would later populate the Hodgenville church, wielded great influence spiritually and socially, giving credibility to the faith as a whole and aiding its spread. While still a part of the older Danville Circuit, and a good two decades before the first Methodist Society was formally established in Elizabethtown, that community’s first itinerant minister was sent out. Here, with this particular appointment, legend and lore tie in with another famed LaRue Countian.

To have had little direct influence upon our community’s formation, living only his first 7 years among its people, the formidable presence of Lincoln seems to cast its shadow upon the history of Methodism in LaRue County in countless chapters of our church’s story. Reverend Benjamin Ogden was the first official appointment by Bishop Asbury to Hardin County, inclusive of what would become LaRue. He arrived at least by 1803 but, due to tensions between him & Conference Elder Poythress, Ogden stepped down from his official assignment in 1806 to become jailer of Hardin County. According to oral history, Ogden continued to preach, as well as teaching school along with cabinet & chair making. In this capacity he came to know Thomas Lincoln who, in 1808, Ogden hired as a jail guard. Lincoln as well worked for Ogden as a county slave patroller. Clearly the two men had become acquainted a bit earlier, however, likely as a part of Ogden’s ministry. There was a special relationship formed between the two as early as 1806, for in May of that year Mrs. Ogden procured the silk for Nancy Hanks’ wedding dress &/or veil on behalf of Thomas. She may well have fashioned Nancy’s wedding trousseau.

Perhaps it was the commonalities between these two cabinetmakers that forged a lasting friendship, for after Abraham’s birth & the family’s move from Hodgenville (in part due to the ensuing gossip from a fight between Lincoln and Abraham Enlow of our church family!) to the Knob Creek farm on the Bardstown Road, it is said that Rev. Ogden traveled there to the fertile valley of the Rolling Fork River in the Knobs of LaRue County to hold revival in the great “camp meeting” tradition begun at Cane Ridge. It was one of the earliest religious experiences of the man destined to become President. The remainder of young Lincoln’s childhood would be influenced as well by Methodism, thanks to the impact of his beloved Methodist step-mother, Sarah Bush (whose descendants would later be members of our church). Thomas & the young widow Johnston were wed in 1819 by Methodist Rev. George L. Rogers who had only recently relieved the ministerial burden of Thomas’ old friend Ben Ogden upon his retirement.

Thomas Lincoln had been influenced by Methodism long before his acquaintance with Ben Ogden. He grew up in Washington County where as a young man he came to know yet another furniture making Methodist, the Elder Jesse Head, a Maryland born and trained cabinetmaker considered by some to be one of the men who aided in training Thomas in that craft & vocation. When Thomas Lincoln asked neighbor Nancy Hanks to marry him, it was Rev. Head who officiated over the ceremony on the 12th of June 1806. Ironically, Rev. Rodman's nephew and namesake, Dr. Jesse Head Rodman, would eventually become one of Hodgenville's most influential citizens long after the Lincoln's had left Kentucky. Rodman would be cited in 1900 recounting Abraham Lincoln's description of the Knob Creek farm in LaRue County given Dr. Rodman during an 1863 visit with Lincoln in the White House. Jesse Head Rodman related Lincoln's story of planting pumpkin seeds which were washed away by the deluge of waters off the knobs from heavy rains.

“We have many reasons for honoring Abraham Lincoln . . . He typifies and exemplified America; his life is a kind of epitome of our history, beginning as it does in the back woods, and reaching the crest of our civilization.  When we honor Lincoln we honor primitive Kentucky, and primitive America.”— From an address by the Reverend William E. Barton at the monument dedication at the grave of the Reverend Jesse Head, Thursday, November 2, 1922.

Decades earlier though, Thomas Lincoln surely heard the sermons of Dr. Rodman's austere Uncle Jesse, and may been directly influenced very early on by the elder Head's views on slavery, if not upon Methodism itself as a choice of denomination. Considered a moderate of the church and, per Dr. Graham, very "Southern", Head yet spoke out "boldly" in support of the rights of man and against the institution of slavery, a message that must have resonated with Thomas Lincoln who, with other's of the community, withdrew from South Fork Baptist to create the Little Mount congregation of anti-slavery Baptists, a church whose memory is nearly extinct in LaRue County today but for the ancient little cemetery that survives.

Yet another early, and important, Kentucky Methodist interjects his story into that of Abraham Lincoln himself. Rev. Peter Cartwright was a vehement anti-slavery Methodist circuit rider. Converted during the "Great Awakening" in Kentucky, Cartwright was ordained by Bishops Asbury and McKendree in 1806 and quickly became an Elder of the church. Kentucky's embrace of slavery repulsed Cartwright who, much like the Lincolns before, moved in protest from the Commonwealth in 1824 to Illinois. There he entered the political arena and in 1832 defeated Abraham Lincoln for a seat in the state legislature. Lincoln later wrote that he, "was beaten... the only time I ever have been beaten by the people." In 1846 the two Kentucky-born men opposed one another again, this time for a seat in the United States House of Representatives. Their race was far from complimentary. Associating with neither Baptist, Methodist, nor any established faith, Reverend Cartwright hailed Lincoln an "infidel" and a "Deist." Cartwright, already criticized for combining his electioneering with his ministry, spotted Lincoln in the crowd listening to his "message" at one campaign stop and tried to lure Lincoln into an embarrassing political opportunity. Calling to the crowd to repent of their sins and demanding an immediate display of obedience to the Lord (and to Cartwright), he ordered those accepting Christ to stand. Lincoln did not. Cartwright then said,

"I observe that many responded to the first invitation to give their hearts to God and go to heaven. And I further observe that all of you save one indicated that you did not desire to go to hell. The sole exception is Mr. Lincoln, who did not respond to either invitation. May I inquire of you, Mr. Lincoln, where you are going?"

Lincoln responded,

"I came here as a respectful listener. I did not know that I was to be singled out by Brother Cartwright. I believe in treating religious matters with due solemnity. I admit that the questions propounded by Brother Cartwright are of great importance. I did not feel called upon to answer as the rest did. Brother Cartwright asks me directly where I am going. I desire to reply with equal directness: I am going to Congress."

And he did!

Neither Abraham Lincoln, nor Thomas Lincoln, ever fully embraced Methodism, but the influence of Kentucky Methodists was strong nonetheless and shaped the lives of both father and son, as it shaped and influenced countless souls who passed through central Kentucky and rural little LaRue County. Always the politician, Abe summed up that influence of Methodism well when he said,

"Nobly sustained as the government has been by all the churches, I would utter nothing which might, in the least, appear invidious against any. Yet, without this, it may fairly be said that the Methodist Episcopal Church, not less devoted than the best, is, by its greater numbers, the most important of all."

So it was that these faithful men of God, Clark, Asbury, Baird, Ogden, Barnett, and so many others, planted & nurtured the seeds of Methodism that would sprout, and flower, in our own small town of Hodgenville. Some 15 years after those first evangelistic efforts of Thomas Lincoln's dear friend Rev. Ogden, the revival spirit was still working to at last create a cohesive Methodist community in Hodgenville. From Society in 1831 to congregation in 1839, we today are gifted with an identity, and heritage, to treasure for many generations & anniversaries to come.

An Ode to Fried Chicken, or, Why One Should Visit the Beaumont, In Short Verse

Oh, the golden chicken legs mounded up on platters

Hot from Beaumont’s kitchen where the taste’s not all that matters

Steaming, juicy, tantalizing crusty fried and yellow

Pass the plate and let’s recall our once fowl feathered fellow.

G D Gardner

Alright, not the most memorable elegy, but if haggis gets a poem and ceremony each year, then surely the yellow legged fried chicken from the famed Beaumont Inn of Harrodsburg, Kentucky deserves a little recognition to rightly, if not poetically, set it apart from fast food imposters.  Now please, don’t assume I’m touting a chicken house.  I’m certainly not.  But if any single dish could act as a trademark symbol for this venerated white tablecloth Southern culinary sanctum sanctorum, then the house specialty fried chicken would sure rate up there alongside their fork tender Kentucky country ham, and the melt in your mouth corn pudding, and the bourbon laced bread pudding, and the Robert E. Lee layer cake, and….pardon me while I digest my thoughts here.

It would be wrong to say that time has stood still at the Beaumont, though honestly if one goes there to seek out that sort of experience they can certainly do so, as the classic appointments and all the quality services of a past generation have been retained.  The Dedmans are happy to cater to a more modern demand as well, and won’t inflict the past upon those who don’t appreciate, though frankly it’s hard to imagine a lack of historical appreciation when staying in such a majestic Greek Revival structure.  Your hosts at the Beaumont simply refuse to shove any form of a disposable go-box of culture down any patron’s throat.  Guests won’t find teenage girls donning cheap prom dress-like “Southern Belle” costumes, guides with exaggerated drawls as sweet as sticky buns, or fanciful tales that perpetuate a glorified Old South romanticism at the expense of those who physically built that world to begin with.  No, at the Beaumont, the past is all around you, yet, dignified, tasteful (yes, I mean that both ways).  There are plentiful reminders to those visiting from the Midwest or Northeast that they are in a distinctly different realm.  Visitors are treated with gracious respect.  The atmosphere, like the voices and hands that greet you, are soft and gentle, eager to please. Nothing glares, nothing screams.  To step across the threshold of the Beaumont is to experience peace and tranquility. In other words, you are treated in the true epitome of Southern fashion, like family.  Clearly this isn’t Natchez.  This is Harrodsburg, and they don’t need the Mississippi River to revel in their heritage here, and they sure don’t need theatrics to show visitors gracious Southern charm.

Y’all come on and visit, and eat!  You won’t be disappointed.

gdg

The Mystery of Ailsy Savoree; or, A Story of Color the National Park Service Chooses to Suppress

The Mystery of Ailsy Savoree

By G. Dean Gardner,

 Independent Scholar of Southern History & Arts

My title today might infer a wee bit of criticism. I mean it to. Despite talking a good talk, the National Park Service seems hesitant to manifest its own goals regarding diversity in its interpretations. Their disdain for independent research is apparent, as is their blindness toward the ironies of history that make it fascinating. Worse still, they project an utter unwillingness to explore the greater story of African-American contribution and influence.  Think a moment on this.  Had Abraham Lincoln never seen a slave, never grown up in their midst observing their labors, their joys and their sorrows, and never having had the chance to simply observe their humble day to day existence, how might that differing background have influenced his career, his Presidency, and his ultimate drafting of the Emancipation Proclamation?  The thing is, Black Americans were a vital component of the society Lincoln was born into.  Those memories did impact his thoughts, and his actions.  Sadly, that part of the Lincoln story may never be explained to visitors at his Birthplace.  Visitors may never understand the poignancy of the "Cradle of Emancipation", the site where not only was a President born, but the breath of freedom was inhaled in that winter of 1809.  A child started on a journey that ended with recognition of all men as simply men, neither in bondage to the other.

The story of this place holds even more significance in the story of freedom when explored after the time of the Lincolns.  It was then, in those following years, that a little cabin took on a new, more profound meaning.  By its becoming a slave dwelling, Lincoln's cabin rightfully attained status as a symbol of the changes we can wrought for all of mankind.  What troubles my heart is that we don't wish to tell this full story.  We don't wish to explain the full impact.  We don't care now to tell the story of the "nameless who toiled" as an act of attrition so that others might be remembered, and recalled, and theirs names uttered for generations to come. 

Today I want to utter a name, one long lost to the undulating folds of time.  Please read, please remember, and please utter the name of a simple woman whose existence makes real for us the great price of freedom.  Her name, no longer forgotten, was Ailsey.

The graveyard of Nolin Baptist is a picturesque setting where early founders of the community lie for eternity, segregated in death from African-American congregants of the church whose graves lie across the road in total neglect. 

By all oral accounts she was born, as her stone at Nolin Baptist Church indicates, a free black citizen of LaRue (then Hardin) County, Kentucky around 1819 or 1821.  There in the church yard of the 1803 congregation, in sight of the white burials but separated from them, her simple stone confirms that she was both “colored and born free.”  From the moment of her humble birth, Ailsy Savoree (Savory) maintained a unique position in local society, and was likely as misunderstood in her own time as she remains today.  Blacks, as slaves, had co-existed with whites since the earliest exploration of Kentucky, not to mention since the settlement of her native county, but relatively few gained their freedom, fewer still were born free, and virtually none were women that owned title to land in their own name.  Because of her unusual racial status, her gender, and the scarcity of comprehensive records from nearly two centuries ago, the mystery of Ailsy has been a challenging one to solve.  Much has been lost, as has most history of early black Kentuckians.

The solitary Black grave in the white section of the cemetery, Ailsey's stone today is found set off to itself, seemingly to acknowledge her mixed-race status, not entirely black, not entirely white.

Her story began with the man who was clearly her paternal grandfather, the Bluegrass politician and landed aristocrat John Savory.  John, a native of Lyon, France, fled the turmoil and dangers for nobility in his native country and came to America sometime around 1783 via Pittsburgh.  Journeying southwest down the Ohio River like many others, Savory settled prior to 1795 in the small Millersburg community of Bourbon County, Kentucky, deep within the already famed Bluegrass region of the Virginia territory, where he became a successful merchant and land speculator, acquiring holdings in the Commonwealth as far to the south as Allen County along the Barren River.  It is unknown just when or how he obtained title to his tract of land on the South Fork of the Nolin River, but an agent on his behalf, John Rowland of North Carolina (Savory’s god-daughter’s father), maintained his title to the land in 1810 per the Hardin County tax records.

It was probably at this same period of time that Savory’s slave and mulatto son, Amos (perhaps properly named John Amos as records would indicate), was sent to the neighborhood of Burlington between Hodgen’s Mill and Mather’s Mill, a fringe settlement of the growing town south of Elizabethtown, to tend the Savory farm there.  Here Amos would have become well acquainted with his immediate neighbors like the flamboyant Richard Mather, the orator Rev. John McDougal, the aristocratic LaRue’s, the industrious Hodgens’, and the county’s finest cabinetmaker who resided nearby with his wife and a new-born son.  Being as well one of the only house joiners in the vicinity, Thomas Lincoln may well have helped to build the Savory home.

Amos’ servitude to his master and father would be short-lived, however.  John Savory, by then a politically ambitious state representative to the Kentucky House of Representatives from Bourbon County, died in 1814, apparently freeing his enslaved son Amos Savory and deeding him nearly 100 acres of the tract he owned near Nolin Church & the historic Mather’s Mill.  Now a landed, and lone, free black man, Amos avoided later emancipation laws which would have forced him out of  the state, and took up permanent residence in his own new home, just about two miles due west of the place where a man named John Welsh would later farm after the Thomas Lincoln family sold out & moved to the north end of the county due to a land title dispute with their powerful neighbor, Richard Mather.  Having obtained freedom, home and hearth, Amos set his thoughts now to beginning a family.  Little did he know the impact his future neighbor would have in this regard.

After reaching a hard fought title settlement through the courts, Richard Mather was vindicated in his claims, much to the dismay of Lincoln and the other litigants involved.  The farm in dispute was ultimately sold with good title to John Welsh.  The site of Welsh’s personal residence is unrecorded, but he took possession of the old Mather-Lincoln place, known locally since that time as the “Sinking Spring farm” for its spring which flowed year-round from the mouth of a small cave, sometime just prior to 1816 when Amos Savory married Welsh’s slave, Lucy.  For at least that short period of time until Savory took Lucy as his wife (and likely for some years afterward, as we don’t have a complete record of Welsh’s slave holdings), the iconic log cabin in which a future President was born served as the domicile for the slaves of the Welsh family, and an irony of history added even more depth of meaning to this venerable, age-old symbol of the rise from poverty to empowerment.  With a new understanding of all who took shelter in it, this crude log structure no longer represented the potential of one race alone, but rather that of all who fall among “the annals of the poor” as Lincoln himself once quipped, and strive for something better for themselves and their families. 

Lucy Welsh Savory’s freedom may have been purchased at the time of her marriage or shortly thereafter, for she would be listed as a member of Amos’ free black household in the 1820 census for Hardin County.  It seems four children were born to the couple in those years prior to the formation of LaRue County, of which only two survived childhood.  By the first LaRue County property tax of 1843, the year the county separated from Hardin, Amos is shown with 96 acres on Nolin.  In 1850, the farm was owned jointly by him, his son John, and his daughter “Aley.”  The date of Lucy’s death, seemingly prior to 1850, is unrecorded.  Due to the times considered, it is likely that Lucy was buried across the road from Nolinn Church in the designated slave cemetery for that congregation, despite her status as a free person of color.  If any marker was placed upon her grave, it was only a field stone.

 Amos himself would die soon afterwards, sometime between May of 1851 and May 1852 at the age of at least 71 years (and possibly a few years older), joining his beloved Lucy in a burial site that today remains unmarked.  For the remainder of the antebellum period in Kentucky, a free black brother and sister would maintain the home place of their distinguished white grandfather, a slaveholder, literally within sight of the hill-top birthplace cabin of the man who would eventually free their entire race in the South.  Such was the irony of life in that “Cradle of Emancipation” called LaRue County, where slaves still labored in the fields once played in by their future liberator.  What a shame we don’t know the thoughts of Ailsy Savory on the struggles of the slaves she would have viewed at work around her almost daily.  Some may have even been her mother’s relations.  Sadly, little oral history survived Ailsy.  The Savory siblings resided in their father’s house throughout the American Civil War, tilling the fields along a vital north-south artery as both armies marched past them.  Her brother John died without other heirs after the 1880 census where they were recorded as still sharing a household, enumerated as the “mulatto” neighbors in their otherwise strictly white community along the “Tanner” Road.  Ailsy continued to farm alone until her health declined to such a point in 1887 that she deeded her property to relatives, likely a niece and nephew of her mother.  Eli Welch (Welsh) and his sister Nancy gained full title to the Savory farm and heritage when “Aunt Ailsy” passed away in February of 1888.  Even then, over two decades after slavery, it was remarkable news in the papers that Ailsy was a black woman of property, the size of her estate something of speculation locally.

It’s hoped that someday further details might be obtained regarding the Savoree family in early Hodgenville.  If their turn of the 18^th century home survived past 1888, its exact location has been forgotten.  It was probably situated on or just off Tanner Road before approaching what was then Mather’s Mill, also now a distant memory.  In 1887, Ailsy’s immediate neighbors were David J. Thurman, Richard V. Thurman, D. D. Miller, Mrs. Samuel Hill, and “Cony” Mather, all of whose farms bordered the Savory property.  Regardless of whether a physical marker can be preserved at such a late date, the significant contribution of Ailsy Savory lies in her silent determination to persevere.  Despite the obstacles and challenges of her day, which are beyond the full understanding of our generation, Ailsy co-existed in her community in peace and developed a sense of mutual respect with those around her.  She set the bar for all who have come after her.  A mere footnote in history?  I suppose.  But better a footnote that documents the bigger story than to be eradicated completely by the harshness of time.  Ailsy may be but a faint memory, but she is a mystery no longer.