Sunday, November 23, 2025

52 Ancestors 2025: The Name’s the Same — Not-So-Famous Davids Through the Ages

 


In researching my paternal line, one name appears again and again: David. Maybe it’s confirmation bias, but “David” seems to be the most common name encountered in my direct line; across all the variations of the Cossart/Cossairt/Cossatt/Cassatt name, there always seemed to be a David—at least until the late 19th century. Why David? The Cossarts were Huguenots, and as Reformed Protestants they often used biblical names, though not to the extreme of their Puritan cousins. Maybe this Huguenot family identified with the underdog who became king. My immigrant ancestor, Jacques Cossart, fathered three sons in the New World: Jacques (Jacob), David, and Anthony.


The first American-born David arrived in 1671 in New York City (formerly New Amsterdam). He married Styntje Joris Van Horne, worked as a stone mason in lower Manhattan, and began acquiring land in Somerset County, New Jersey. After being wounded in the 1712 slave uprising in New York, he moved his family to New Jersey. My line descends from his son Francis, born in 1717, but David also had an older son named David (born 1704). While Francis eventually joined the wave of westward migration, David moved north into the Mohawk Valley frontier. It is said that his three sons—David (of course), Jacob, and Francis—served the Patriot cause in the American Revolution.


Francis and his wife, Margaret Van Nest, later migrated with other Dutch and Huguenot families to the Conewago Colony in Pennsylvania, where he became a prominent figure and a committed Patriot. Like many frontier families, they were farmers, and their migrations mirrored their pursuit of new farmland. Francis’s son Pieter, born in 1746, continued the family pattern of moving into new territory. He and his wife, Maria Durie, eventually settled in newly opened Kentucky, where Pieter died during the frontier violence of the Revolutionary era. Meanwhile, David (born 1704) remained in the East, where his descendants became part of prominent Pittsburgh and later Philadelphia society.


We have already met Hendrick/Henry Cossairt and his twin brother David, born in 1778, who first put down roots in Kentucky and later moved into the Midwest—Henry to Ohio, David to Indiana. Henry’s son William Peter continued the line, but Henry, unsurprisingly, also had a son named David (born 1837). Records for this David—who altered the spelling of his last name to Cossatt—are scarce (future research opportunity?), but it appears he moved to Illinois before dying in Indiana.


From William Peter we move to his son David Cassatt, the Civil War veteran featured in several earlier posts. This David seems to have broken the longstanding naming pattern—he named his sons Orville, Virgil, and Bascom. (There was also a son George, who died in infancy.)


And two generations later, there’s me.


So much passes down through the generations: genes, traits, customs, and stories. This post is more about names—how they endure through family tradition or serve as tributes to ancestors who might otherwise be forgotten. As genealogists, we sift through records to uncover the pieces of our “who we are” and “where we come from” stories. Sometimes a simple name is the clue that connects them all.

Monday, November 10, 2025

52 Ancestors 2025: Peacetime — Bushwhackers and Jayhawkers: The Aftermath

 


In the last entry, we explored the effects of the Civil War on my Confederate-sympathizing families in Vernon County, Missouri. The four years of war left the county in bad shape, but somehow the young widows had to carry on—farming, raising children, and trying to rebuild their lives. Was Elizabeth Ann (Maddox) Curry able to keep her family together and maintain their farm? Fortunately, census population and agricultural schedules help us piece together a story of hardship and resilience, fueled by persistence—and likely a good deal of stubbornness.


Before moving to Vernon County, Elizabeth and her husband, Robert M. Curry, had already begun their family.


1860 Census – Robert M. Curry Household (Montevallo Township, Vernon Co., MO)

  • Head: Robert M. Curry, 30, farmer
  • Wife: Elizabeth Curry, 35
  • Children: Sarah A. (9), Lucy Curry (7), John (5), George (3), Mary (2), Infant (1 month old, unnamed)
  • Real estate: $600 (no personal estate value listed, possibly limited cash assets or unrecorded)


Their agricultural schedule shows a family in the process of clearing new land—most of it still forested—and relying on oxen for labor.


1860 Agricultural Census – Robert M. Curry

  • Improved land: 10 acres
  • Unimproved land: 110 acres
  • Farm value: $600
  • Implements and machinery: $40
  • Livestock (valued at $510): 1 horse, 3 milk cows, 8 working oxen, 2 other cattle, 26 swine
  • Production: 300 bushels of corn and 182 lbs of butter


Had Robert lived, we would expect to see more cleared land and a larger operation—but his untimely death left Elizabeth to shoulder the burden alone.


By 1870, Elizabeth was listed as head of household, still in Montevallo Township:


1870 Census – Elizabeth Curry Household

  • Head: Elizabeth Curry, 45, keeping house
  • Children: Sarah (20), Lucy (18), John (16), George (14), Mary (12), Thomas (10), Jefferson (8), Martha (6)
  • Real estate: $1,050 | Personal estate: $625


Interestingly, the youngest son was named Jefferson—perhaps in honor of Jefferson Davis. The farm had shrunk from 120 acres to 70, likely sold down to a more manageable size or to raise cash. Sons John and George would have done most of the field work, with the older daughters and younger siblings helping under Elizabeth’s direction.


1870 Agricultural Census – Elizabeth (Maddox) Curry

  • Improved acres: 14
  • Unimproved acres: 56 (40 woodland, 16 other)
  • Farm value: $1,050
  • Implements: $100
  • Livestock value: $425
  • Production: 100 bushels of corn, 150 lbs butter, 50 bushels of potatoes
  • Livestock: 1 horse, 3 milk cows, 2 oxen, 1 other cattle, 14 swine
  • Total value of farm products: $210


This was very much a subsistence farm, with only modest cash sales.


By 1880, Dover Township had been carved out of Montevallo, and the older children had begun to establish their own households. Sarah and Lucy had married; George had moved out. Elizabeth was still managing the farm with help from her remaining children.


1880 Census – Elizabeth (Maddox) Curry Household (Dover Township, Vernon Co., MO)

  • Head: Elizabeth Curry (55), widow, keeping house
  • Children: John (26), Mary S. (22), Thomas S. (20), Jefferson (18), Martha M. (16)


1880 Agricultural Census – Elizabeth Curry

  • Total acreage: 90 (28 improved, 62 woodland)
  • Farm value: $500 | Implements: $50 | Livestock value: $250
  • Livestock: 4 horses, 3 milk cows, 6 other cattle, 3 calves, 26 swine, 18 poultry
  • Production: 600 bushels of corn (30 acres), 75 bushels of oats (5 acres), 200 lbs butter
  • Value of farm products (1879): $140


Though not wealthy, the family had managed to diversify their operation and maintain self-sufficiency.


The 1890 census was lost to fire, but the later records continue their story.


1900 Census – Elizabeth (Maddox) Curry Household (Dover Township, Vernon Co., MO)

  • Head: Elizabeth Curry, 75, widow, mother of eight (seven living)
  • George Curry, 43, widowed, farm laborer
  • Grandsons Guy (16) and Denver (13), farm laborers
  • Home: Owned, mortgaged, used as a farm


1910 Census – George W. Curry Household

  • Head: George W. Curry, 53, widowed, farmer
  • Denver O. Curry, 23, son, miner (coal mine)
  • Elizabeth A. Curry, 85, mother, widowed
  • Home: Owned, free from mortgage, used as a farm


All of Elizabeth’s children married except her youngest, Martha. Lucy (Lucinda Jane) died between 1888 and 1900, and George’s wife around 1889 or 1890. Despite hardship, the farm Robert and Elizabeth built before the war remained in the family for decades.


Elizabeth (Maddox) Curry lived until 1916, reaching the remarkable age of 90. Her lifetime spanned from the era before Andrew Jackson to the eve of World War I—with the Civil War as its most defining and disruptive chapter. Widowed around age 40, she managed to run a farm, raise her children, and maintain her independence through sheer determination and the support of family.


Whatever her wartime sympathies, Elizabeth’s perseverance left a lasting legacy—one that continues through the descendants of her daughter and granddaughter, who went on to build new lives and families of their own. Her story stands as a quiet but enduring testament to the strength of women on the postwar frontier—and to how resilience can turn survival into legacy.


Photo:


History of Vernon County, Missouri: Written and Compiled from the Most Authentic Official and Private Sources, Brown & Co., St. Louis, MO, 1887


52 Ancestors 2025: Wartime — Bushwhackers and Jayhawkers

 


Earlier this year, I wrote about our family’s experiences in World War II and the American Revolution. We also have extensive narratives from Union Army veterans Anthony Gilmartin, David Cassatt, and Benjamin McWilliams. These men survived the Civil War, but like many soldiers who left their farms and endured crowded, unsanitary conditions, they suffered serious illnesses. Ben, in particular, endured the harsh realities of multiple Confederate prisons. All three, however, served honorably and were discharged at the war’s end.


Those who served the Union cause later migrated to Barton County, Missouri, where they established farms on what was then open prairie. But for families who had already settled in that region of Missouri before the war, their Civil War experiences were starkly different. On my paternal side, the Maddox and Curry families had Southern roots and were, at the very least, sympathetic to the Confederate cause. As a result, they endured great hardship—some of it, perhaps, brought upon themselves.


The patriarch of the Maddox family, Jesse T. Maddox (my 3rd-great-grandfather), came from Virginia. He moved westward—first to Tennessee, where he married Lucinda Ann Simmons, and later to Missouri, settling first in Monroe County and then in Vernon County in the late 1850s. Unfortunately, the move came during one of Missouri’s most volatile periods. Tensions between slave-state Missouri and free-state Kansas were high, and Vernon County—just eight miles from Fort Scott, Kansas—became a flashpoint in the guerrilla warfare between Confederate bushwhackers and the Union Army, as well as Union-aligned Jayhawkers.


The Maddox family was soon caught up in these events. In December 1858, John Brown led a raid in western Vernon County, killing one man but freeing twelve enslaved people for passage along the Underground Railroad. Jesse Maddox served on the grand jury that indicted Brown, though free-state authorities refused to extradite him.


When the Civil War began, those prewar skirmishes exploded into full-scale devastation for Vernon County—and the Maddox family was in the midst of it. Jesse died on August 10, 1861, soon after the war began. The following year brought even more violence. In April 1862, members of the 1st Iowa Cavalry checked into a hotel in Montevallo, where they were attacked by local men on April 13. Among the attackers were Jesse’s sons Wilson C. and William T. Maddox. In retaliation, federal troops burned the town of Montevallo to the ground—including the hotel Wilson kept.


Violence continued throughout the war. One final tragedy struck on February 20, 1865, when two Maddox brothers, Jesse and John, were reportedly ambushed and killed by Jayhawkers. John Stuart Maddox is said to have served in the Confederate Army, though no record of his service survives.


Two of Jesse’s daughters were also deeply affected by the war. Elizabeth Ann and Sarah D. Maddox married two brothers—Robert M. and John D. Curry, both born in Kentucky. By 1860, the Maddox and Curry families had neighboring farms, but both men died during the 1860s. The details of their deaths are uncertain. One Robert Marion Curry who served in a Kansas cavalry regiment was executed by firing squad and buried at Fort Scott, but it’s unclear whether he was the same Robert who lived in Vernon County.


The widows, Elizabeth and Sarah, continued to farm and raise their families, likely with help from relatives. Census records show their farms were modest—certainly less prosperous than those of their Union veteran counterparts in Barton County—but they managed to endure.


Union victory in Missouri came at a steep price. Holding the border states required harsh measures, and guerrilla activity brought brutal reprisals, often falling hardest on civilians caught in the middle. The Maddox and Curry families did not appear in the 1860 slave schedules, so they were among the many Southern-leaning families who supported but did not benefit from the Confederate cause.


With so many loved ones lost, Elizabeth and Sarah likely felt bitterness toward the “new nation” that had experienced “a new birth of freedom,” as Lincoln said, and toward the northern settlers who arrived after the war. Yet, over time, reconciliation took root.


Their daughter Mary Curry married Henry Yount, also from a southern family. And one generation later, Robert and Elizabeth’s granddaughter married Virgil Cassatt, the son of a Union veteran. By the time of that 1905 wedding, Elizabeth Ann (Maddox) Curry was still living on the original family homestead—now farmed by her son.


But her post-war story is one for another post.


Note: The artist of the blog post painting does not appear to be a relative of Robert Curry, but I haven't been able to trace Robert's line back. Yet.


Books:


History of Vernon County, Missouri: Written and Compiled from the Most Authentic Official and Private Sources, Brown & Co., St. Louis, MO, 1887


Photo:


Tragic Prelude By John Steuart Curry - United Missouri Bank of Kansas City, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=48498757

Wednesday, November 5, 2025

52 Ancestors 2025: Multiple — A Tale of Two Journeys

 


The prompt “multiple” can have many meanings, but this week I decided to explore one set of twins in my family. On my paternal side, my 4th-great-grandmother Marie Durie (or Duryea) Cossart gave birth to twins, Hendrick (Henry) and David, on March 25, 1778. They were born into the Dutch/Huguenot Conewago Colony of Adams County, Pennsylvania.


Their early life was tumultuous. They were only about a year old when their family—and other members of the colony—migrated to Berkeley County, Virginia (now West Virginia) before making the long journey to Kentucky via the Wilderness Road. The early settlers endured great hardship, as many—including the twins’ father, Pieter Cossart, and several uncles—were killed by Native Americans during frontier conflicts associated with the Revolutionary War. With Pieter’s death in 1781, the twins and their siblings were raised by their mother and likely by members of her extended Durie family, who had also migrated to Kentucky. Unfortunately, records from those early Kentucky pioneers are sparse, but the bonds among the Conewago colonists remained strong.


So how did the twins fare as adults? Did they stay in Kentucky or move on again? Both eventually settled in neighboring states—Ohio and Indiana—though by different routes. Hendrick, who later went by Henry, married Mary Nailor in Indiana and later moved to Warren County, Ohio, where he became a successful farmer. According to family lore, his mother spent her final days with him and is said to be buried in Dodds Cemetery in Warren County. Notably, many other Conewago descendants also settled there.


David’s path was more winding. Unlike Henry, he remained in Kentucky longer and married within the colony—his second cousin, Mary (Polly) Banta. The Bantas were among the leading families of the Kentucky Low Dutch Colony, and Polly’s uncles were founders of the Pleasant Hill Shaker Village. Henry and Mary had six children who survived to adulthood, while David and Polly had two: Jacob Duryea Cassatt and Mary Banta Cassatt. Interestingly, both children carried middle names from their grandmothers, and like their cousins, they later adopted the “Cassatt” spelling of the family name.


After Mary Banta Cassatt’s birth in 1818, David and his family left Kentucky for Indiana, eventually settling in Wabash County around 1834, where they were among the first settlers. He worked in the canal-building trade, as did his future son-in-law, John Matlock. By 1850, David was living with the Matlocks following the deaths of Polly and his second wife, Sarah Johnson. Like his twin brother, David had a grandson who served in the Union Army during the Civil War. Sadly, Thomas Jefferson Matlock died of typhoid while in service. David himself passed away in 1854 at the age of 76, surviving his twin brother by just one year.


David’s surviving son, Jacob Duryea Cassatt, became a prominent citizen of Wabash County. He served in the Indiana State Legislature and held other public offices but endured several personal losses. His first wife, Louisa Jane Roberts, died in 1846 at the age of 31, leaving him with three young children, one of whom died the following year. His second wife, Emma Jane Townsend, died in 1850 at just 19, apparently from complications of childbirth. Their surviving daughter, Mary, was living in Iowa in 1860 with Thomas and Mary Townsend—likely her grandparents. Jacob spent his later years in Wabash County with his third wife, Elizabeth Barker Jones, a widow who brought one child into the marriage. Together, they had three more children, including their youngest, Mary Banta Cassatt.


The twins’ lives reflected the broader American story—surviving the arduous migration along the Wilderness Road, enduring the dangers of frontier life during the Revolution, and helping settle the growing Midwest after independence. Their paths shared much in common: farming, migration, and long life. Yet there were differences. Henry left many descendants carrying the Cossairt or Cassatt name (including me), while David’s line, having fewer children and more daughters, did not preserve the surname. Still, his legacy and genes endure through the many generations that followed.


As an aside, another “multiple” could refer to the many times the name David was used in the Cossart/Cossairt/Cassatt lineage, but that’s tale for another day.


Photo


By FloNight (Sydney Poore) and Russell Poore - self-made by Russell and Sydney Poore, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2806881

52 Ancestors 2025: The Name’s the Same — Not-So-Famous Davids Through the Ages

  In researching my paternal line, one name appears again and again: David. Maybe it’s confirmation bias, but “David” seems to be the most c...