Category Archives: 17th century history

Pikemen and oar-wielders

So many family histories are written by and about men, so we often miss out on good stories about our female ancestors.

Sadly, I’m not finding much info on my great grandmother, “Salome Anna Elizabeth Line Lindsey,” a woman my mother always referred to as “Annie Line.” (Was it originally Anna E. Line? Seems like a game of telephone, right?) Her lineage, though, is fascinating–to my surprise she was of Swiss German descent through and through.

What I’ve found so far goes back to the 1600s, to her 4x great grandfather Heinrich Zimmerman of the Canton of Bern, who once served in King Louis XIV’s French army as a pikeman. Pikeman? That’s right. Swiss pikemen were mercenary soldiers. Heinrich belonged to an elite guard skilled at wielding a 16’4″ spear, or pike.

Annie Line’s 4x great-grandmother, Salome Rufener, wasn’t half bad herself.

In 1706 Heinrich Zimmerman joined in a struggle against the [ruling class of the] Canton of Bern. This, as usual, miscarried, and he and his wife and two children had … to seek safety in flight. … They stole off in the night, … making for the border. By the next daylight they were near the Lake of Thun, where Heinrich had secured a boat. … [Two hussars were in pursuit.] His wife and the [two] children were in the boat, but just as [Heinrich] reached the boat, [a Hussar] caught him by the skirt of his coat. Salome rose to the occasion, and by a well-directed blow with an oar, laid him sprawling. Heinrich sprang aboard. She pushed off, and they were safe.*

Hurray for Salome!

Heinrich’s struggle against the government of the Canton of Bern led me to a deep dive into his possible motives. At the time there was a good deal of persecution against the Mennonites in Bern. Then too, Heinrich may have objected to unfair treatment of regular citizens by the ruling oligarchy. Whatever the case, he and Salome made good their escape and they and their two young sons arrived in Germantown, Pennsylvania circa 1706.

I’ve digested enough history about the Central Alps and Swiss Germans to Pennsylvania that I’ve designed another talk, From Pikeman to Pennsylvania: Swiss Ancestral Origins. Click on the link for the full description of this talk and others.

*Excerpted from Edmund Sawyer Walker, A.M., “Genealogical Notes of the Carpenter Family Including the Autobiography, and Personal Reminiscences of Dr. Seymour D. Carpenter” (1907; Springfield, Illinois: Illinois State Journal Co.) This family history narrative, and many others of Zimmerman / Carpenter descent, is available here.

Weren’t you supposed to be bicycling?

Right, I’m in the northeast at the moment with the goal of bicycling the C&O Canal Trail/GAP trail between DC and Pittsburgh in an attempt to trace the immigrant trek of one branch of my ancestry. Saturday, April 7 will kick off that journey. My blog posts then will be no doubt more sporadic as I pedal through small towns in more remote areas of Maryland and Pennsylvania.

Meanwhile, I’m scouring museums and libraries and history archives to learn what was happening on the Atlantic coast circa 1804. In my novel-in-progress, the Highland Scots immigrants first arrived in North Carolina tobacco plantation country. (One family history account notes the town of Beaufort).

On the road — following the Historic Albemarle route, I’ve spotted a few ancient ruins similar to this one — a structure once used to store tobacco. Mostly, the land is flat and swampy, but also rich in history dating back thousands of years, to the Tuscarora Nation.

My first impression of the 18th century East coast? Brick, lots and lots of it, buildings and homes and streets of it. Not that everyone could afford homes out of brick, but those who could used it liberally. I discovered this brick edifice — a former horse stables still standing since the 1700s in New Bern, NC — by following the brown road sign for Tryon Palace.

Tryon Palace?! Any brown road sign is an internationally recognized designator  of tourist information, quite often having to do with history. But in all my internet browsing, I had not landed on Tryon Palace. Perhaps a bit road weary, I wondered: Did this have to do with some kind of interactive costume museum? Mildly intrigued, I pulled off at New Bern, and Eureka! Actually, it was a whole complex of museums in a historic town — first settled by Swiss and German immigrants in the early 1700s, it became the capital of North Carolina when Governor — wait for it — Tryon ruled the colony in the latter half of the century.

Visiting the governor’s palace was all well and good, but best of all was the succinct North Carolina History Center. The complex also featured a blacksmith shop and a working kitchen. Sigh of bliss. Geek that I am, I love history museums.

Research is proceeding apace

Before heading off on this journey, I was nervous I wouldn’t find what I’m looking for. First person accounts by Scottish immigrants to the Ohio River area in the early 1800’s make mention of events — shipwrecks, infant births and deaths, ancestors signing the Covenant in their own blood — which I’m finding it difficult to verify.

The family history account of Duncan and Nancy Fraser begins thus:

Not wishing to rear his family in Scotland (after three of his uncles had been burned at the stake for their faith in Christ), Duncan Fraser (who was tailor to Lord Cavanough [sic]) started to America with his wife Nancy (both were Highland Scots from near Edinborough [sic]) and their four children — three girls and a boy, Daniel, in the year 1804.

It’s a mystery … since this account is about the turn of the 18th to the 19th century, the reference to three uncles burned at the stake for their faith in Christ seems out of place. The Covenant martyrdoms happened in the previous century, in the 1600s, didn’t they? So was this account referring to great uncles? or to 2x- or 3x-great uncles?

One place I hoped to glean more insights was at the National Library of Scotland in Edinburgh. I only had two days to spend, so prepared as much as I could in advance. Users of the library have to apply for a library card. I saved time by registering online here. I still needed to show an identification with my current address, but the process of getting a card definitely went more quickly.

Once in the library reading room, I began at the enquiries desk. If you want to take photos (which I did), I had to fill out paperwork and display a yellow card. First thing, I used the main catalogue to order documents not available on the open shelves (most of them), as it can take up to an hour for the material to be brought out.

And here’s where I messed up. The order slip in Special Collections had a blank for specifying my table number. Hence, I assumed materials would be delivered to my table, a common practice at other libraries. I sat waiting for a full hour before going up to make an inquiry (enquiry), only to learn I had was supposed to pick it up at the desk. My material had been there all along.

So, about those martyrs. Not sure I’ve found the event, but the book Martyrs and Heroes of the Scottish Covenant by George Gilfillan did a beautiful job of clueing me into the power struggles of the Scottish reformation. About Duncan Fraser’s “uncles,” however, I haven’t scored any specifics. It’s a tangent, anyway, not the main focus of this immigration tale. I was mainly interested in the historical context, and found great resources and voices.

Not in the National Library, but on the internet, I found a website indicating that 95 people in Edinburgh were executed for their faith in Christ in the 1600’s. What’s more, it’s estimated that “perhaps 30,000 may have died for their beliefs and Presbytery during the whole of the Scottish Reformation.”

Are you here because of “Outlander”?

imageDave and I started off our morning at the harbour at Nairn. After we’d soaked up a little sunshine (and rain and hail), we dined on fish and chips at the Dolphin, then stopped in at the Nickel and Dime, me still clutching a cup of coffee.

“I don’t blame ya,” the shopkeeper said when I apologized. “Ya need somethin’ to keep ya warm.”

Time to head back to Edinburgh. On the way through Cairngorms National Park, we paused to stretch our legs at the Highland Folk Museum at Newtonmore.

image“Are ya here because of Outlander?” the exhibit interpreter asked as we entered the 17th century Highland village. She seemed so pleased about this connection I felt embarrassed to tell her not entirely.

Check out the gorgeous vest she’s wearing — the fleece of it was spun, dyed, woven and sewn on site.

imageThis living history museum was a serendipitous joy, real fires burning in the crofts, careful attention to every aspect of the buildings, artifacts, and the grounds, a replica of a village uncovered at an archeological site a few miles away. And also providing Dave and me with the added status of being able to say that, while in Scotland, we visited a genuine film location from the first season of Outlander. Not to mention the gorgeous forest path one takes to access the village. What a treat.