Spinners, Weavers, and Farmers
Ancestral pursuits and occupations, a window to connection, history, and legacy
Farmers are like spinners and weavers to me. I know I had them in my family, somewhere, because everyone did, at some point. Women spun the rovings to make all of the textiles for the family. Families farmed in order to provide food. Sometimes trading and bartering and selling was involved, but it was something that occurred in most families like mine. But, I never felt connected to the history and legacy of farming, spinning, and weaving.
I knew my mom’s grandfather had a farm in 1940. My dad only told one story that related at all to farming. He said he didn’t like visiting his grandparents. They lived on a farm and he didn’t like the outhouse - too many snakes. His side of the family was predominantly from Mississippi, but also Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Tennessee. I assumed there were farmers amongst them.
And, of course, I assumed that if you go back in the generations, everyone is farming. That is how you ensured your livelihood. During the colonial period, agriculture was the primary livelihood for 90% of the population. Most farms were geared toward subsistence production for family use. You either provided it your self or you bartered or traded with your neighbors. That’s how you had food to eat and roving to spin.
As the population grew new lands opened up and large numbers of new farms emerged. The number of farms grew from 1.4 million in 1850, to 4.0 million in 1880, and 6.4 million in 1910. I assumed there must be farmers in my family amongst them as well.
I knew about those in the family who we merchants, coopers, millers, lawyers, dentists, school teachers, barbers, ministers, but no farmers. I never felt a deep connection to farmers and their history. I never knew who the farmers were, much less what they farmed, where they farmed, how they farmed. None of it. I knew those who had vegetable gardens that supplemented their food supply and beautiful flower gardens, but that’s different.
All of this began to change for me, first with spinners and weavers.
When I found my great great great great grandmother Phoebe fighting for the return of her spinning wheel, cards, and cotton in 1785, I was blown away. To see that documented in the historical record was just incredible to me. That spinning wheel was critical to her livelihood and independence. The only other things she asked for in the petition were her house and four cows and calves. These were the things she deemed most important - a place to live, sustenance, and a way to make all of the textiles for herself and her three young boys (ages 3, 2, and 1). Her spinning would have been deeply time and labor intensive but it also ensured her independence and safety. I reflected more and more each time this document crossed my mind. I began to understand more about her as a woman on her own in 1785. (See: 12 Grandmothers - Phoebe, for more on what I learned from her.) Now, I’m learning to spin and weave.
Similarly, my connection to farming began to change for me when I started finding farmers in the family. But that comes much later in this story.
You see, gardening has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Thanks to the adults around me, I learned at a very young age that I could grow plants and vegetables. It wasn’t something they set out to teach me. I just learned it by observing them and replicating what they did. Also, asking lots of questions.
I planted my first garden when I was in elementary school. I had two gardens — a sunny garden and a shade garden. My sunny garden was filled with forget-me-nots, rabbit ears, and other sun loving perennials my magical gardening neighbor Mrs. H shared with me. My shade garden was more of a secret space. Jack-in-the-Pulpits, Virginia bluebells, hostas shaded by evergreen trees.
My mother had a flower garden and my father grew tomatoes. My grandfather had an amazing vegetable garden that he grew on the edge of the marsh. As a member of the local Junior Garden Club, elder gardeners would come to talk to us about planting, arranging, pressing, basically, all the wonders of having a garden.
I also have deep memories around food. My mom cooked every night. We were not a family that journeyed to McDonald’s or Burger King. Nor did we experience boxed macaroni and cheese or Twinkies or Lunchables. My mother was never more excited than when her Southern Living or Gourmet magazine came.
We always had some of Nannie’s (my dad’s aunt) hot pepper sauce around. Labor Day weekend meant canning tomatoes. A couple of weeks later was applesauce.
Gardens and food prep were important but my parents took this one step further by making sure that my sister and I knew where our food came from.
As a kid living in an inner ring suburb around a large city, I didn’t see farms around me. If we drove north from the city for about 20-minutes - “out to the country” - we would see large horse farms, more like estates really. Fields of vegetables or grains or even cows, sheep, and pigs took a little bit more work to see.
I remember when I has about 10 years old my family went for a Sunday drive and we discovered a roadside farmer’s stand. Finding that roadside farmer’s stand began a weekly habit of driving to Beverly and Donald Burton’s farm to pick up fruits and vegetables. Around that time the “egg-man,” as we called him, began to deliver farm fresh eggs directly to our house on Saturdays.
Burton’s Farm and the egg-man changed my life, and my relationship with agriculture. I mean, I didn’t knowingly have a relationship with agriculture at this age so this was a big deal. I was learning about the importance of locally-grown produce and the challenges family farmers face. Though, in my mind, farming was still something others did. I wasn’t connected to it other than as a consumer.
As my dear husband and I built this life together, it was important to us to continue these practices we had grown up with.
My husband came from a long line of farmers. He has memories of bottle feeding piglets, baling hay, rounding up pigs. His father had an amazing garden as well. As we began to build this life together, it was important to both of us to continue these practices we had grown up with - gardening, food prep, and knowing where our food came from.
The egg man continued to deliver to our house until he passed away around 2008.
We still traveled to the Burton’s farm on weekends until 2022 when they retired.
We’ve supported a Community Sponsored Agriculture (CSA) program.
And for the past 20-years we have supported a farm that delivers dairy, eggs, fruits, veggies, our Thanksgiving turkey, and so much more directly to our house.
We can and freeze fruits and veggies; make vanilla, mustard, breads, pasta, hot pepper sauce, vinegar, and more.
Our kids know where their fruits, veggies, eggs, dairy, and cheese come from. They have met the farmers and walked the fields, they have met the cows and fed the calves, and they’ve chased the chickens.
Farmers in the Family
I started finding farmers in the family shortly after our oldest was born. I had already been doing genealogical research for a decade, at that point, but I didn’t pay much attention to occupation. I was all about finding names, birth dates, death dates, marriages, and children.
At some point, I slowed down and paid more attention. I began to notice little details. Occupations became a window to understanding the people, the time, and their legacy. Merchants, coopers, millers, lawyers, dentists, school teachers, barbers, ministers were all reflected in the historical documents. Then, the farmers appeared.
I found far more farmers than I ever expected to find. I realized that I, too, was directly connected to the history and legacy of farming. I also realized that there was a deep complexity to being an 18th and 19th century farmer.
I latched onto the opportunity provided by my farmers. I dug into who they were, where they were, and the nature of the place where they were. I used land patents and maps to pin point their place. I used histories, diaries, science reports to understand the overlay of the human built space. I learned about who they were as a people, too. Practices. Celebrations.
Most of my farmer ancestors lived in the place we now call Mississippi. The farthest back lived 1738-1815 and the most recent 1890-1945. Mississippi farmers contended with bears, panthers, snakes. Floods, tornadoes, fires. As Mike Bunn explains in Fourteenth Colony: The Forgotten Story of the Gulf South During America’s Revolutionary Era:
They “ drew their living from the land, and their world revolved around it and the products they could gather from its cultivation. On small family farms…..colonists cleared forest tracts and labored in the Gulf coast heat and humidity to produce vegetables, grains, and fruits for sustenance and local trade; cultivated plants such as tobacco and indigo or harvested timber in search of a lucrative cash crop; and herded livestock in the effort to both become self-sufficient and achieve economic stability. The struggles endured in those elusive goals are an integral part of” the story [p. 110]
There is a lot to this history and its legacy. The relationship between the Europeans and the Indigenous peoples. Deprivation of human rights. Land theft. Knowledge extraction. Intrusion of exotic species and diseases. Soil degradation and erosion. Radical transformation of landscapes.
As a genealogical researcher, it is incumbent upon me to know this history and to speak the truth of this history. I can do so while still honoring my farmer ancestors. Their existence has led directly to me and for that I am grateful. As their descendant I bear the weight of it all.
I know my knowledge is incomplete. I continue to research and learn. I continue to strive to find the sweet spot between history, environmental science, and family.
And, I am a work in progress. As long as I am here, I seek to comprehend the whole. To connect with the whole of this place. To see things as they were and are. To see with open eyes and a soft heart. This is a life-long process of listening, feeling, learning, and action.
My farmer ancestors were an amalgamation of the places from which they came — England, Scotland, Northern Ireland. Did they somehow pass down this connection to the land to me? Is it in my DNA somewhere? Is it an echo of their lives within me? May be (I’d like to think so.) But, it really doesn’t matter. What matters is this place.
This place has seen it all. It knows all that has come to pass, too. And, it remembers, all of it. It is my responsibility to listen and learn from this place as a way of respecting and honoring our common humanity and our more than human community members. To create a new relationship with this place, this point on the Earth that I call home. To honor the seasonal changes and the cyclical nature of life on this amazing planet. To celebrate the cycles — like Beltaine, Summer Solstice, Lughnasa, Autumn Equinox, Michelmas, Samhaim — in our own way. To build a relationship based upon listening to what this place has to teach me. A relationship that entails responsibility for the place and the communities around me. A responsibility that is based upon recognition, honoring, healing, and atonement, to this place. A responsibility that grows into sacred connection and purpose.
What is most interesting to you about the history and legacy of your ancestors occupations?
5 Notes
Five final notes on what I’m anticipating, following, gardening, researching, and practicing in yoga.
Anticipating: The opening of the local farmer’s market. 2022 was Bev and Donald's last season with the stand. After 48 years of driving to their farm it's hard to imagine summer without them. I learned so much from them and so enjoyed watching our kids grow up knowing them, just like I did. Now, I have transitioned to our local farmer's market.
If you are interested in finding a farmer's market near you visit Local Harvest. Put your zip code in the top to search for the ones closest to you.
Following: Ice Nights, May 11th - May 15th.
May 11th is feast of St. Mamertus
May 12th is the feast of St. Pancras
May 13th is the feast of St. Servatius
May 14th is the feast of St. Boniface
May 15th is the feast of St. Sophie, Cold Sophie.
In Old German and European weather lore, this group of saints are known as die Eisheiligen, the Ice Saints. Cold Sophie is their leader. Sophie and the Ice Saints are thought to bring one last blast of cold air before summer. The Eisheiligen of mid-May are nights that would likely freeze, despite the daytime warmth. Waiting until after these five days to plant crops and garden vegetables helped to insure a crops wouldn’t be lost to frost.
Before Boniface no summer.
After Sophie no frost. My seedlings won’t go into the ground until Cold Sophie passes by, just in case. If it does get cold that week, I’ll be thinking about Sophie and the Ice Saints.
Gardening: This is a busy time in our garden. It’s a time to ensure the raised beds are all ready. To build trellises. To notice and treat any early signs of diseases on trees. To cut the grass. To weed. It still looks a bit messy right now, but when I look outside I see the hope and prospect of all the goodness to come.
The violets have finished blooming. Some were pressed and some were made into violet honey this year. The dandelions and buttercups are blooming now. The lettuce and spinach are abundant. The carrots are making their presence known but are still very small. And, the squash and beans have just popped up. The peonies should begin to bloom after Mother’s Day. It seems to get later each year. After Cold Sophie, and when the nightime temperatures are consistently in the 50s, the tomato and pepper seedlings will go into the raised beds.
Researching: Its important to learn the occupations of our ancestors. It helps create a picture of their every day. Their occupations framed their lives. Their occupations help us understand our family histories, the challenges they confronted, and the choices they may have made. Knowing their occupation also helps to build context for their place in history. Finding farmers in the family gave me a deeper understanding of the impact of my ancestors on the lands where they lived.
How did I find farmers in the family?
I found farmers by looking for evidence of occupations. The top four places I used were the following records:
Census Records. The census is the number one place where I found my farmers. The 1820 U.S. Census asked about industry and the 1850 census added a column for occupation.
Obituaries. Obituaries were the next place where occupation was identified for my ancestors.
Military Records. World War I and II draft registration cards contain occupations, and pension records may list the occupation.
Probate Records. Wills may include the occupation of the deceased or the occupations of the heirs.
Other documents where occupation may be listed include:
Birth Records.
Death Records.
City Directories.
Passenger Lists.
Church Records.
Another resource is the National Society Descendants of American Farmers (NSDOAF). Founded in 2019, NSDOAF is a non-profit, non-political organization of individuals who are “lineal descendants of a ‘farmer’ living within the present boundaries of the United States between July 4, 1776 – July 4, 1914.”
For NSDOAF, a "farmer" is a person engaged in varying capacities in the agricultural industry, including but not limited to farmer, rancher, farm hand, or person that owned a farm. The fact that an ancestor has another profession or occupation does not prevent that ancestor from being a “farmer” where requirements are met.
On the ancestor page of their website, they have a list of 3,769 farmer ancestors that have been honored since the founding of NSDOAF in 2019. This is a searchable list so just enter a last name, hit search, and see what comes up.
Along with honoring farmer ancestors, NSDOAF provides:
More information about NSDOAF can be found on their website.
Practicing in Yoga: There’s been a new moon last week and first quarter moon this week. I’ve been feeling bound up with all that energy. My yoga practice has been working on releasing the energy and focusing on expression and listening. Gently opening my neck, shoulders and upper back, and warming up my body. Then, a breath practice to retain the energy build up and calm the mind. I feel light, open, and energized after this practice. This is what it looks like:
