Chronology of Confederate Naming

Merely counting the number of children named Jeff Davis or Stonewall Jackson does not tell the whole story. These names waxed and waned in popularity over time. Examining the chronology of naming patterns may help us determine whether certain explanations are plausible or unlikely.

Some names were much more popular during the war than afterward. These charts show the birthdates of black men and boys named Jeff Davis (or Jefferson Davis or Jefferson D.) who appear on the 1880 Census*:

As you can see, "Jeff Davis" was a much more popular name for black children during the war than afterward. The initial dropoff was dramatic, though the name gained slightly in popularity over the next decade.**

Another name that was much more popular during the war than after was "Stonewall." Like Jeff Davis, Stonewall gained in popularity after its initial dropoff — it actually made more of a comeback than Jeff Davis. This chart includes people named "Stonewall" and "Stonewall Jackson":

These two charts have similar patterns, so they can be considered convergent for the purposes of testing theories about naming practices. But what do we do with this one?

In the immortal words of Sesame Street, one of these things is not like the other. Whatever explanations we come up with for why black men and boys were given the names of Confederate heroes must account for the fact that different names had starkly different patterns of popularity.

*A few notes of caution: I did not include black men named "Jeff D." because a large percentage of them were born before the war, indicating that this name may not have been intended to honor Jefferson Davis. It is also possible that the 1880 Census underreports people named Jeff Davis during the war and its immediate aftermath because some may have died and others may have elected to go by other names later in life.
**Since this graph includes only people who were alive in 1880, it is possible that the name did not actually gain in popularity, but that fewer children born in earlier years were still living in 1880.

Teach the Controversy: Pangaea

Andrew Sullivan has a post up right now called "Looking at Race." It concerns a poll that asks Americans whether they believe that Africa and America were once part of the same continent.

At first, I thought, wtf does the existence of Pangaea have to do with race? Of course America and Africa were once part of the same continent, but the Atlantic Ocean has been around for about 100 million years, while our species is only a few hundred thousand years old. "Race" is not really a concept that maps well onto geologic time.

Then I looked at the breakdown of the results.

Yikes! Only 35% of white respondents said "yes," while 63% of black respondents agreed. I imagine that this gap is not reflective of overall scientific knowledge. Did all the white kids skip Earth Science? From this evidence, it seems that white people (particularly those who are Republicans, Southerners, or over 60) are less likely to accept the science of plate tectonics, perhaps indicating that they are still struggling with the idea that all people belong to the same species.

If it were just Republicans or Southerners who were willfully ignorant of continental drift, I might be able to explain it away by blaming Young Earth Creationism. But that racial gap is astounding.

White people do realize that our species originated in Africa, don't they? And that all humans of all races are related? Also — and I hestiate to point this out — white people are not actually from America originally.

One last thing — in his post, Sullivan says that he "would have said yes, but not too confidently." Really? Because I definitely covered Pangaea with my second graders. I thought that this was common knowledge, at least among elementary school grads.

Teach the Controversy 

Update: Some are saying that the question is flawed — that it doesn't really tell us how many Americans "believe" in continental drift. But that isn't the point, is it? The point of the question is to tell us how many Americans reflexively reject any idea that connects North America to Africa. It's a brilliant question because you can't just straight-up ask people if they are racist. Many people don't know what the term means, though they're pretty sure they aren't. You have to ask roundabout questions like this one.

"Changed this Life for a . . ."

In honor of the beer summit:

Yes, ok, it really says "beter," i.e. "better," but the first time I saw it, I did a double-take because I thought it said "beer." I've shown this to other people and they've done the same.

via Farber Collection

Jeff Davis, General Lee, and Stonewall J

When I first found Lavinia Meekins in the census, I thought that her family might be unique. After all, how many black Southerners had children named after Confederate heroes?

Actually, quite a few.

The more I looked, the more I found. So far, I have looked at the 1870 and the 1880 census records for all 11 ex-Confederate states. Here is what I've found*:

I was surprised to find 325 black children named Jefferson Davis in the 1870 census — I was expecting to find no more than a dozen. To put these numbers in perspective, there are about 2,000 white Southerners named Jefferson Davis in the 1870 census.

One interesting thing about this chart is the tremendous drop in the name "Jefferson Davis" between 1870 and 1880. It seems unlikely that more than half of the black children named Jeff Davis died in the intervening decade, especially since most of them were older than 5 in 1870, so they had a better chance of survival than infants. Did many of the boys named Jeff Davis decide to go by another name when they reached the age of 15 or 16?

Unfortunately, it is difficult to track any Southerner from census to census. I count 166 black Stonewalls in 1870 and 161 in 1880, but there is very little overlap between the two lists. This makes it difficult to generalize about the rising or falling popularity of a name over time. In my next post, I'll try to tackle this problem.

These three names seem to be the most popular, but a few others crop up from time to time. The 1870 census shows handfuls of black Southerners named Pickett, Longstreet, Wade Hampton, General Forrest, Zollicoffer, and Braxton Bragg. I haven't run the numbers on "Forrest" and "Beauregard," but, in initial searches, both seem to be almost as popular as Stonewall and Lee.

I won't overburden this post with specific examples, but here are a few notable examples of Confederate names given to black children during and after the war:

Secession Bants, b. 1862, Fredonia, AL
(one of four black children — two boys, two girls — named Secession, 1870 Census)

Confederacy Johnson, b. 1862, Livingston, VA

brothers, Zollicoffer Robinson, b. 1862 and General Lee Robinson b. 1864, Lancaster, KY (not included in statistics)

the McCullough family of Fairfield Co., SC:
Wade H. (b. 1862), Jefferson D. (b. 1863), Braxton B. (b. 1862), Beauregard (b. 1866)
(They have a little brother named Dempsey — any suggestions?)

*In this graph, "Jefferson Davis" includes black or biracial men and boys named "Jefferson Davis," "Jeff Davis," and "Jefferson D." living in the ex-Confederate states. "Stonewall Jackson" includes men and boys named "Stonewall Jackson," "Stonewall," and "Stonewall J." "Robert E. Lee" includes men and boys named "Robert E. Lee," "Robert Lee," "Bob Lee," and General Lee."

Black Children, Confederate Heroes

While working on a post about babies named after presidents, I came across Lavinia Meekins, a black woman in Virginia whose three young sons were named Jeff Davis (b. 1861), Robert E. Lee (b. 1864), and Andrew Johnson (b. 1867). I found this pretty confusing. Why would a black woman name her boys after the Confederate President, a Confederate hero, and the man who killed Reconstruction?

I knew I would need some context to make sense of this. Was Lavinia Meekins a single eccentric? Are these names part of a pattern? I dug into the census and found some surprising things.

I'll break this research up into several posts because the information is a little hard to digest all at once. I haven't made sense of the data yet and I'm not sure I can do that without some sources other than the census. Here are some of my initial observations:

• Lavinia Meekins was not a lonely eccentric. Many black parents in the Confederate states named their children after Confederate heroes during the war years — Jeff Davis, Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, etc.
  
• Fewer black parents named their children after Confederate heroes after 1865. White Southerners continued to give Confederate names to their children into the 20th century.
• Some Confederate names (Jeff Davis, Stonewall) dropped off rapidly after 1865. Others (Robert E. Lee) gained in popularity after 1865.
  
• At least nine families have one child named Jeff Davis and another named Abe Lincoln. Sometimes they are twins. 
• Many white Southerners named their children after Northern heroes — U.S. Grant, Sherman, Lincoln, etc.
  

Over the next few posts, I will report on what I have observed, but I'm going to hold off on drawing broad conclusions for the moment. It would be simplistic to assume that just because an enslaved woman named her child "Jeff Davis" that she necessarily supported the Confederate cause. Off the top of my head, I can think of several alternative explanations:

• Perhaps masters named children and enslaved parents had no say in the matter. That would explain the sharp decline in these names after 1865.
• Perhaps enslaved parents named their children after Confederate heroes to feign docility. If this were the case, I would expect parents to rename/nickname the child after the war, which doesn't account for names on the 1870 census (unless feigning docility was still necessary during Reconstruction).
• Perhaps some slaves really did support the Confederate cause. In any group of 4 million people, you're bound to find a range of political opinions. It's not hard to imagine that some people might prefer to preserve the status quo rather than gamble on an uncertain future.
  
• Perhaps people named their children names from the news, regardless of the political associations. You see this in recent naming patterns when awful hurricanes cause bumps in popularity for their names.
• Perhaps census-takers have odd senses of humor.
  

Let me say it again — these aren't my conclusions. They're initial musings and possibilities. If you have other interpretations of the forthcoming, I'm eager to hear them. I do believe that the names people give their children are markers of their values — I'm just not sure what they're trying to convey in these cases.

Data and Discussion:

• Jeff Davis, General Lee, and Stonewall J
• Chronology of Confederate Naming
• Abe and Jeff, Brothers at Last
• Unionist Naming in the Postwar South
• Beyond the Census (Coming Soon!)

Tiny Books!

I don't have a dollhouse, but I could be persuaded to get one just so I could fill it with tiny books. Miniature Bookshelf has nearly 500 books the size of pennies. Most are classics, but there are a few modern children's best sellers (Harry Potter, A Series of Unfortunate Events). I love the vintage covers.

At this point, these are probably the only books I could possibly fit on my shelves.

via Shakesville

I Heart Little History Nerds

After watching 5-year-old Wesley sing "Folsom Prison Blues" ("I shot a man in Weeno . . .") I clicked around a bit and found this original composition, performed at the same open mic night. Connor, age nine, is learning to play the guitar and write songs. His composition is called "Civil War," though "CIVIL WAR!" might be more accurate. Chorus: "CANNONBALLS! BULLETS!" I vaguely remember writing something similar when I was in third grade. Enjoy!

Charles Torrey, "Martyr for Liberty"

I've been watching Ken Burns' The Civil War this week as I update and revise my book lists for my general exams. Even though I know that Burns' reconciliationist narrative doesn't really fly with academic historians, I still enjoy the program. At the very least, it beats reading Battle Cry of Freedom again.

This time, as I watched, I reflected on how much Burns has shaped what I (and many others) know about the Civil War. For example, the murder of Elijah P. Lovejoy is a well-known incident in antebellum abolitionism that has undoubtedly enjoyed a resurgence in notoriety due to Burns' PBS series. Lovejoy was not the only abolitionist martyr of the antebellum period, but his inclusion in The Civil War has given his story new prominence in the minds of modern Americans.

Burns could just as easily have chosen to include the story of Rev. Charles Torrey in his documentary. I had never heard of Charles Torrey before I stumbled across his grave at Mount Auburn, but his epitaph made me think that I probably should have.

It reads:

Reverend

CH'S T. Torrey

Born at Scituate

Nov. 21, 1813.

Graduated at Yale College

Aug. 1833.

Ordained at Providence

March 1837.

Arrested at Baltimore

June 24, 1844.

Died in the Penitentiary

of that City

May 9, 1846.

The friends of the

American Slave

erect this stone

to his memory

as a Martyr for Liberty.

Yale-trained minister dies in Southern jail as "Martyr for Liberty"? That seemed like something I should hae heard about.

Turns out that Torrey was actually jailed several times for crimes such as attending a slaveholder's convention as an undercover reporter and assisting the escape of nearly 400 slaves from Maryland and Northern Virginia. He was sentenced to six years of hard labor in Baltimore, but died of tuberculosis in 1846. You can read his memoirs and letters on Google Books.

Torrey's impressive obelisk has its own island in the middle of one of Mount Auburn Cemetery's internal roads, where it is surrounded by flowers. A bas relief of Torrey's bust (toga-clad, natch) embellishes the monument. Though the marble is cracking, it is still quite beautiful. 

A quotation of Torrey's is engraved above the bust. When he was offered a pardon in return for a public apology, Torrey reportedly told his lawyers,

It is better to die in prison with the peace of God in our breasts than to live in freedom with a polluted conscience.

Whoever erected the monument wanted to make extra certain that viewers understood that Torrey was a MARTYR, so he/she/they topped it off with a crown of thorns.

Though largely forgotten in our day, Torrey was a celebrated figure in New England's abolitionist circles. Rev. Amos Beman, an African-American minister from New Haven had a grandson named Charles Torrey Beman who fought with the 5th MA Cavalry in the Civil War (and kept a journal). I don't know whether Charles Torrey Simpson, celebrated botanist, was named for the abolitionist, but since he was born in June of 1846, I think there's a good chance that he was.

Maybe I can find some way to slip this into my general exams . . . it might convince certain of my examiners that I'm not just wasting my time wandering around old graveyards.

Mysteries of the Google

In the past two months, 44 Google searches for "Wayte-A-While Makepeace" have directed readers to this blog.

Is there a Wayte-A-While Makepeace fan club out there? If so, may I join?

Grumble

I just bought a Trivial Pursuit app for my iPhone. It is generally very good — a little easier than regular Trivial Pursuit (it's multiple choice), but still good.

I'm a little confused about EA Games' understanding of the "history" category, though. One of the "history" questions was "To whom is Ellen DeGeneres married?"

But that's not why I'm grumbling. I'm grumbling because one of the answers was WRONG!

Question: In which war were the most Medals of Honor awarded?
A: World War II
B: World War I
C: The Civil War

It said that the answer was WWII, but, in fact, way more Medals of Honor were awarded during the Civil War. Fewer than 500 Medals of Honor were awarded during World War II, while over 1,500 were awarded during the Civil War. I don't know whether that figure even includes the 864 Medals awarded to the 27th Maine (all but 300 erroneously) or other rescinded Medals.


I'd rather be right than win.



Update: I've played a bit more of this game and found the other categories equally dubious. The "geography" category includes questions such as "Where does Peter go in 'Forgetting Sarah Marshall'" and "Where are the villains in 'Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull' from?" It's pathetic. There's already an "entertainment" category — why must it spill over into everything else?

101 Ways, Part 97: "Fell in Battle at Molino del Rey"

For a brief intro to the "101 Ways to Say 'Died'" series, click here.

This series has featured several variations on the verb "to fall." I'm sort of surprised that it's taken me this long to add "fell in battle," but I checked the intro page and it doesn't seem that I've used it already.

Moses Emery Merrill of Brunswick, Maine was a West Point grad, though not a particularly stellar student (he graduated 37th in a class of 41). He served with the 5th United States Infantry and was killed at the Battle of Molino del Rey during the Mexican-American War.

Fort Merrill, a shortlived outpost in Texas, was named for Moses Merrill.

Moses' son, William Emery Merrill (b. 1837), followed in his father's footsteps, attending West Point. William was a much better student — he graduated first in the class of 1859 and went on to be General Sherman's chief engineer during the Civil War.

Even Shakesville's Got the Cemetery Fever

The recent eruption of cemetery news has even reached the non-history blogs I read!

If this keeps up much longer, I'm going to have to find something even more obscure in which to specialize. Such is the inclination of the grad student.

Molly Fowler Gravestone Stolen?

 Thanks to Fritz for pointing me toward this story in the comments.

On Saturday, Richard Platt, the city historian for the town of Milford, Connecticut, noticed that one of Milford's most famous gravestones was missing. The stone, dedicated to Mary Fowler (d. 1792), is famous for its epitaph:

Molly tho pleasant in her day

Was sudd'nly seiz'd and sent away

How soon shes ripe how soon shes rott'n

Sent to her grave, & soon for gott'n

A picture of the full stone is available in the Farber Collection.

Thankfully, the stone was recovered today. It seems that someone may have dragged it into the woods before abandoning it. Those things are heavy.

This is just another reminder to be vigilant when you're in your local cemetery/graveyard. If you see something amiss or can't find a beloved stone, report it! Also, if you ever see a gravestone (or part of a gravestone) in an antique store or gallery, try to find out if it's a reproduction. If you're not sure, call your local historical society, preservation organization, cemetery commissioner, or police and ask them to check it out.

Name o' the Day

From the cemetery on Bath Road in Brunswick, ME:

Anniversary

I didn't catch her (his?) last name — this marker was in a family plot and I don't seem to have a picture of the main monument.

More From Salon

The third article in Salon's series on "grave offenses" at Arlington National Cemetery is out today. I've been unimpressed by the series so far, but the newest installment does contain some actual examples, rather than vague allegations.

In 2003, Arlington workers dug into a plot that they thought was empty, only to find an unexpected casket there. The remains are still unidentified. The situation is unacceptable, but, as far as anyone knows, it is an isolated incident.

I don't mean to defend Arlington's director — he sounds like a tyrant — but I'm still not convinced that this constitutes the "malfeasance" that Salon alleges. The fact that the investigation has found only one screw up at such a gigantic, multi-century cemetery speaks to the generally high level of competence and care at Arlington. As the cemetery spokeswoman quoted in the article notes, the situation reemphasizes the need to update the records system, which is an ongoing project.

Of course, all efforts should be made to identify this unknown soldier. If they cannot identify him/her, he/she should be honored by burial in the Tomb of the Unknowns. There's an open spot.

I wonder how this story would have been different if Mark Benjamin and Salon had approached it in a less sensational, less confrontational way. Instead of accusing Arlington of "malfeasance" and punning about "grave offenses," Benjamin could have used the story of this newly discovered unknown soldier to explore Arlington's personnel troubles, budget limitations, and grave decoration policies. Instead, he went in guns blazing, screaming scandal. Instead of producing a well-written, insightful investigative report (like this one), he created a breathless, sensational piece. Piggybacking off the truly horrifying situation at Burr Oak is insensitive and irresponsible.

Salon is one of the organizations trying to prove that new media can do investigative journalism just as effectively as traditional newspapers. This series is not helping to make that case.

Hidden Gems of the Bible

America is full of Davids, Johns, and Marys. Over the past decade, a few other biblical names have gained popularity — Jonah, Levi, Jacob, etc. There has even been a slight uptick in the incidence of Hezekiahs (#929 in 2008), Ezekiels (#241), and Nehemiahs (#364).

But how many Americans really dig deep into the Bible for baby names? How many Zelophehads do you know? How many Hazzelelponis? I've never met an Epaphroditus, though I have seen a few in the records.

One I've never seen before: Mehuman.

Mehuman Hinsdell

Deerfield, MA

1746

More Cemetery News

Apparently, cemeteries are the new Michael Jackson. I've never seen so much cemetery news in so many prominent outlets in the same week. On the heels of the Burr Oak tragedy and the unproven allegations against Arlington, the New York Times has a front-page (of the online edition) piece on Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn. The historian in me is very pleased. The hipster in me wonders when all of these tourists will go away.

101 Ways, Part 96: Nobly Fell by the Impious Hand of Treason & Rebellion

For a brief intro to the "101 Ways to Say 'Died'" series, click here.

I love Massachusetts. One day, we're mourning the brave patriots slain by cruel, bloody, British oppressors and the next we're complaining about "the impious hand of Treason & Rebellion."

Meet Jacob Walker of Whately, MA. In 1787, Walker responded to a call for volunteer militia to put down Shays' Rebellion, an uprising of debtors in western Massachusetts that is best known for exposing the weaknesses of the federal government under the Articles of Confederation. Walker was killed by Jason Parmenter, a suspected ringleader who resisted efforts to arrest him.

Walker is buried in Hatfield, MA under a headstone that testifies to the malleability of political rhetoric in the Revolutionary era. Compare entry #28 to entry #96:

To the Memory

of

Mr JACOB WALKER

who respected by the Brave,

Beloved of his Country's Friends

Dear to his Relations,

while manfully defending

the Laws & Liberties

of the Commonwealth,

NOBLY FELL

by the impious hand

of Treason & Rebellion,

upon the 17th February AD 1787

in the XXXII Year of his Age.

Citizen passing drop a tear

And dare to imitate the BRAVE.

I am of the opinion that gravestones do not merely reflect the evolving demands of loyalty to the new United States — as public monuments, they helped to create new standards for patriotism. Whoever composed this epitaph was making a political argument and trumpeting it in a public space.

As a work of art, this stone is particularly nice. The carver — the Farber Collection is unsure whether it is John Locke or Solomon Ashley — makes lovely letters, though he could have used a once-over from a better speller. I especially like those capital As.