52 Ancestors 2026: A Brick Wall Revisited – A Curry-Spiced Breakthrough

 

I’ve written before about my 2nd-great-grandfather in my father’s side, Robert M. Curry. He married Elizabeth Ann Maddox but died near the end of the Civil War. It is still uncertain whether he was the same Robert Marion Curry who enlisted in the Union Army and was executed. As if this uncertainty wasn’t enough, for a long time, I kept hitting a brick wall when trying to find out who his parents and siblings were. Still, there were a few clues. A printed Maddox family history noted that Robert had a brother who married his wife’s sister, Sarah, and according to Find A Grave, his parents were James and Rebecca (Anderson) Curry.

Could this limited information point me in the right direction? Yes—and no. The proposed parentage was intriguing but led to another dead end. However, the Curry–Maddox connection opened a more promising path.

As usual, I began with what I could easily find: the census population schedules. Starting in 1870, I found Elizabeth, age 45, in Vernon County, Missouri, with her children but no husband. Moving backward, I located the Curry family in the 1860 census, where Robert M., Elizabeth, and six children, all of whom matched the household from 1870. Looking further back, things became even more interesting. 

In 1850, Robert and “Betsy” Curry were living in the crowded household of Jesse Maddox in Monroe County, Missouri. This suggested a pattern—and a plan. Were there other Curry households in Monroe County? Yes, but one stood out: a household headed by Susan Curry, with five others bearing the Curry surname. Could this be Robert’s mother and siblings? The population schedules also noted that the mother and Curry children were born in Kentucky.

To test this theory, I went further back. The 1830 and 1840 census records list only heads of household and household members sorted by age categories, but by examining the later census data, I created a spreadsheet to reconstruct the likely household composition.  

Picture: 1840 and 1830 Census predictions based on 1850 and 1860 Census records.

Two Curry households appeared in Monroe County. One, headed by R. H. Curry, did not match well with the known children and included slave ownership, which did not align with the later economic status of the family. The other, headed by Samuel Curry, was a much better fit, with children whose ages aligned closely with those found in later records.

Up to this point, the research had relied on traditional methods—census records and careful data organization in a spreadsheet. The next phase, however, involved using artificial intelligence tools. I shared my findings with my ChatGPT assistant, including full census data and the observation that a John Curry and a William Curry appeared in the same township as Robert in the 1860 census. John matched a "John Curry" from the 1850 Susan Curry household, suggesting a possible match. My assistant recommended checking military records for Robert Curry, but that avenue proved unproductive. However, the marriage record of Robert and Elizabeth and Elizabeth’s death certificate were consistent with the working hypothesis.

The real breakthrough came with the FamilySearch Full Text Search feature. Thanks to their AI-powered indexing and transcribing of handwritten documents, I uncovered land and probate records connected to Samuel, Robert, and Elizabeth Ann Curry. These records provided additional names and relationships, allowing me to reconstruct the family with greater confidence.

One settlement record proved especially valuable—it listed the heirs of Samuel Curry and their spouses, along with a land sale to George Cunningham. That name stood out. Further research revealed a FamilySearch listing for George Washington Cunningham married to Amanda Curry—whose parents were listed as Samuel and Susanna Devine Curry, who were married in Mercer County, Kentucky. 

That connection opened the door. I located an 1830 census record in Mercer County for Samuel Curry, with household members whose ages matched the known children. At that point, the pieces, including the Kentucky connection, began to fall into place. With the accumulated evidence, I felt confident enough—perhaps 87%—to reconstruct the family of Samuel and Susanna (Devine) Curry.

Picture: Reconstruction of the family of Samuel Curry. Three residents in 1830 could have been helpers, relatives, or children who left the household. Boy 2 in the 1840 Census could be a relative or hired hand.

There are still uncertainties. The birth year listed for Samuel in FamilySearch (1782) would be a few years too early according to the 1840 census but not the 1830 census, and there are many Curry families in 18th-century Kentucky to sort through. The age of the daughter who may be Sarah may be miscalculated in the 1830 census. But the nature of the problem has changed. I am no longer stuck at a brick wall—I am now in the confirmation stage.

Artificial intelligence tools played an important role in this breakthrough, especially in uncovering records that would have been difficult to locate otherwise. Still, human judgment, careful analysis, and a willingness to question assumptions were essential in bringing the pieces together into a more complete picture.

The search continues—but now, it feels like progress.

52 Ancestors 2026: Conflicting Clues – Match? Doppelgänger?

 

In genealogical research, mix-ups happen all the time. Authors of online trees—and even published histories—sometimes confuse two people with the same or similar names. As I review my own locally saved tree and the larger FamilySearch tree, I occasionally find facts that don’t look quite right. Information is often posted without careful analysis, and the cited sources sometimes contradict the conclusions presented. In those cases, we have to examine all the available records before drawing conclusions.

One ancestor who has long interested me is my second-great-grandfather on my paternal side, Robert Curry. According to census records, he was born in Kentucky in 1830 and by 1850 had moved to Monroe County, Missouri, where he married Elizabeth Ann Maddox. In 1860, the couple and their children appear in Vernon County, Missouri, where several members of Elizabeth’s family had also settled. Unfortunately, this region of Missouri was in turmoil during the Civil War, with fighting between Confederate-sympathizing bushwhackers and Union forces. The violence even led to the burning of the town of Montevallo. By the time of the 1870 census, Elizabeth was listed as a widow raising her family.

So what happened to Robert? Did he become caught up in these events? At present, the most definitive answers I can offer are: He died—and maybe.

Starting with what we know, the 1860 census lists Robert’s middle initial as “M.” A written genealogy of his father-in-law, Jesse Maddox, states that Robert died before January 1866. Another intriguing piece of information involves a man named Robert Marion Curry, who enlisted in the 15th Kansas Cavalry, Company D. He was reportedly one of three men executed in the winter of 1864 and buried among prisoners or Confederates. The pressing question is whether these two Roberts were the same person.

Rather than accept the connection simply because it appears in numerous Ancestry trees, I put on my researcher’s hat. The middle name aligns with the census initial—but why would Robert enlist in the Union Army? And why in a Kansas regiment if he was living in Missouri?

Spoiler alert: I don’t have definitive answers—not for lack of trying. A search of Fold3 reveals no enlistment record for a Robert or R. Curry, except for one soldier in the U.S. Colored Troops. Since the 15th Kansas Cavalry was not part of the USCT, that record can be ruled out. Still, some interesting clues remain. Although many companies recruited locally, Company D appears to have enlisted cavalrymen from across the state. Vernon County lies on the Kansas border, so crossing state lines to enlist would not have been unreasonable. Moreover, the 15th Kansas Cavalry was used primarily to suppress uprisings in Missouri.

This leaves two possibilities: either the similarity of names is coincidental, or a man born in Kentucky to a Virginia-rooted family—whose in-laws were associated with guerrilla resistance against Union forces—somehow joined the Union cause.

Neither possibility can be dismissed outright. The first leads to a frustrating dead end (for now), while the second stirs the imagination. Was Robert pressured into service to fight against his neighbors? Was he a bounty jumper who deserted, was captured, and executed? Could he have been acting as a spy, gathering information and relaying it back home? Given his probable sympathies, it is difficult to ignore the possibility that he may have engaged in activity that led to his execution.

We may never know the full story. But that doesn’t stop me from taking another swing at this brick wall every few months.

Photos:

Grave photo: Find a Grave, database and images (https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/5851280/robert_marion-curry: accessed February 28, 2026), memorial page for PVT Robert Marion Curry (1831–1864), Find a Grave Memorial ID 5851280, citing Fort Scott National Cemetery, Fort Scott, Bourbon County, Kansas, USA; Maintained by Tom DeNardo (contributor 767).

Description: https://www.kansashistory.gov/resource/national_register/nominationsNRDB/Bourbon_FortScottNationalCemeteryNR.pdf

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

52 Ancestors 2025: Wide Open Spaces — The Missouri Prairie

 

When my ancestors first arrived in the New World, much of the Dutch and British colonies were covered in forests. Over time, those forests were cleared for farmland—a pattern that continued as families pushed westward. Many of my lines ultimately converged in Barton County, Missouri, located on the eastern edge of the wide-open Osage Plains, part of the vast prairies of the American West. These prairies were characterized by tall grasses, with trees lining the many creeks and streams. The rich, loamy soil proved ideal for farming and attracted settlers from the Midwest and Upper South, especially in the years surrounding the Civil War.

The first of my ancestors to arrive in southwest Missouri were the Maddox and Curry families. Robert Curry (my 2nd-great-grandfather on my paternal side) married Elizabeth Ann Maddox, and by 1860 they were living in Montevallo Township, Vernon County—just north of Barton County. At that time, Vernon County’s population was only 4,850. Both families had deep roots in the East: the Maddoxes had lived in colonial Virginia, then migrated west through Tennessee; the Currys migrated through Kentucky from the east. They initially settled in Monroe County, Missouri, before 1840, then moved further west by 1850 in search of new farmland.

Unfortunately, they were caught up in the turmoil of the Civil War. The region was a hotbed of guerrilla warfare against Union forces. Being deeply Southern in sympathy, the extended Maddox family was aligned with the bushwhackers and suffered retaliation when Union troops struck back at towns that had supported the Confederacy. But that is another story.

Another transplanted Southern family on my paternal side was the Younts. Though the Younts originally arrived in Pennsylvania in the 1700s, they later established themselves in North Carolina and then in the Cape Girardeau region of Missouri in the early 1800s. Frederick Yount (my 2nd-great-grandfather) moved to Barton County with his second wife, Elizabeth, before 1870 and started a farm there. This was a blended family migration of Younts and Krimmingers—several of Elizabeth’s children also relocated and established themselves in Barton County. (Note: In the 1886 plat of Barton City shown above, nearby settlers included the Mayfields, relatives of Frederick Yount’s first wife. At least one was a 5th cousin. Even when families weren’t close, they were often distantly related and were part of the tight-knit web of early settlers.)

On my maternal side was Anthony Gilmartin, a Union Army veteran and 2nd-great-grandfather. He, his wife Jane, and their children migrated to Barton County between 1867 and 1870 from Illinois. Another Illinois transplant was John Jay Fast and his wife Hannah Robbins Day, my 3rd-great-grandparents, who arrived in 1866.

Another Union Army veteran, my great-grandfather David Cassatt, first moved to the prairies of Carroll County, Missouri, near the Missouri River. He later settled in Barton County in 1878. The Reed family also arrived during the 1870s, migrating from eastern Ohio under the leadership of S.D. Reed, my 2nd-great-grandfather.

Among the most notable of these settlers was Benjamin Cruiser McWilliams (my 2nd-great-grandfather), who not only moved to Barton County in the 1860s but also recorded his vivid impressions. As I’ve mentioned before, Ben was part Scots-Irish and part German from the Appalachian region of Pennsylvania, and the vast prairie made quite an impression on him. According to The History of Barton County, he:

...only remained here a short time, as the country was but a vast rolling prairie, with no houses or improved farms, and went to Dubuque, Iowa, thence to Cedar Rapids, and was married at Danforth, Johnson County, Iowa, to Miss Mary A. Cloud, on the 24th of December, 1867. In 1869 he returned to his farm in Missouri, at that time there being no house between his and the county seat, Lamar, sixteen miles away…

He further described his first impressions of the prairie in his own words:

I went around the next morning and [real estate agent George Walser] had his ponies hitched up to his ‘"buckboard," and we both got in and drove seventeen miles northwest of Lamar to the Round Mound in Barton City Township, where we commanded a good view of the surrounding country. The grass had all gone to seed that year and was as high as your head on all sides, resembling a vast sea.

Pointing from this point of view to a place to the southwest of where we stood, on the Round Mound, to land near the foot of the same said, "Now your land lies down there." [...]

Viewed from the top of this mound, the surrounding country was beautiful to behold and enough to captivate anyone, especially someone from the East, where mountains block the view. The broad plains stretched out on all sides and melted away into the horizon, with flocks of wild deer and antelope roaming freely. All other forms of game abounded—prairie chickens, wild turkey, and squirrels—in the timber. As far as the eye could reach, I found no settlements on this lone prairie, but the wild game held full sway. A few log cabins, however, dotted the creek banks as far to the east, near what was called Little Drywood, these were sheltered by trees.

To these east-coast migrants, the Missouri prairie truly was a land of wide-open spaces—a land of possibility. Barton County had just 1,817 residents in 1860. Though the region was a Civil War battleground, the promise of fertile land drew settlers westward, and by 1870 the population had grown to 4,285, and by 1880 to 10,332.

This post is only a summary of the settler ancestors in my family tree. As I’ve dug deeper into census records, agricultural schedules, and land deeds, more stories have come to light. Each deserves a post of its own.

These settlers formed farming and faith communities, and any map from 100+ years ago shows their farms scattered across various townships—but rarely far apart. Over time, these proximity-based relationships turned into marriages, as children who migrated or were born in Missouri grew up alongside one another.

Ben McWilliams recalled one such bond:

John Fast and family had located and settled in the north part of the city, near the present location of the waterworks tower. There were several trails which crossed his land, so he had laid rails across these trails to divert the travel from across his newly sowed wheat fields. Two sons, John and Marion, later went out and settled near Barton City, and became my lifelong neighbors and friends.

Ben’s daughter, Nellie, later married Marion’s son, Orin Taylor Fast—and together they became “Grandma and Grandpa Fast,” names that live on in many family tales.

Photo: 1886 Plat of Barton City Township; Courtesy of Cindy Cruz