A FAMILY OF MASHBURN'S

As far back as most anyone researching our family name can go is around 1655, to a man born in St. Giles, London, England named Edward Marshborne or Marshburn. Having “borne” or the shorter “burn” added to a name usually denotes that his ancestors probably lived in the marshes, and more than likely near the growing port city of London. Edward, my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, had a son by his second wife Sarah Sindery whom they called Edward (Jr.).

Both Edward Sr., by some accounts a school teacher, and Sarah died young, he around age 37 and she before reaching 30, most likely due to the plague, diphtheria, or any number of other incurable diseases that ravaged London in those days.

Edward Jr., my great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, some accounts say because he alienated the “Crown” in published letters, and moved to America in 1697. He took with him his wife Mary Farrar, and two young boys, Edward and Matthew, to Virginia. Two other boys were born to the family in their new country, but only after moving to Onslow County, North Carolina.

Some say it was after settling in America that the “borne” became “burn”, but records such as the following will of Edward Jr.’s son Matthew attest that “Mashborne”, a shortened “Marshborne”, continued as the family name for at least another generation, or until 1761:

THE WILL OF MATTHEW MASHBORNE

In the name of God Almighty, I Matthew Mashborne of the county of Northampton and Providence of North Carolina being sick and weak in body but of sound and perfect mind and memory praise be given there fore to almighty God, I do make and ordain this my last will and testament in manner and form following that is to say first: Principally I commend my soul into the hands of almighty god hoping through the merit death and passion of my savior Jesus Christ to have full and free pardon and forgiveness of all my sins and to inherit everlasting life, and my body I commend to the earth to be decently buried at the discretion of my executors hereafter named and as touching the disposition of all such temporal estate as it hath pleased almighty god to bestow upon me I give and dispose of in manner and form as followith: I will that my debts and funeral charges shall be paid and discharged.

I give unto my beloved wife Sarah Mashborne the bed board stead and furniture belonging to it as I myself usually lay on and my black horse named frock and my riding saddle and two cows and calves.

I give and bequeath unto my grandson James Mashborne son of Samuel Mashborne deceased in his fathers stead one two year old heffer.

I give and bequeath unto my son Edward Mashborne my still. {It is this bequeathment that has long given me reason to believe my family surname simply means we are from a long line of “moonshiners!” And from the “burn”, we weren’t too good at it!}

I give and bequeath unto my son David Mashborne one bed and the furniture belonging to it.

I give and bequeath unto my children Mary (Mashborne) Pirson, Anne Mashborne, Martha Mashborne James Mashborne, Edward Mashborne, Sarah (Mashborne) Lassiter, Pricilla Mashborne, Elizabeth Mashborne, Charity Mashborne, Rachel Mashborne, David Mashborne, Jethro Mashborne, Daniel Mashborne, William Mashborne. All the rest of my estate not given out in legacies and to be equally divided amongst them. I likewise desire my executors to have a care and see my three young children brought up as well and Christian like as possible in reason.

I do hereby appoint my sons Matthew Mashborne and James Mashborne executors of this my last will and Testament, and I do hereby revoke disannul and make void all other wills and testaments by me here-to-fore made. In witness whereof I the said Matthew Mashborne to this my last will and testament do hereunto set my hand and seal this second day of July in the year of our Lord One Thousand Seven Hundred and Sixty.

Notary Seal ( ) X ( ) Notary Seal

Matthew signed with X

Matthew, my great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather, married Sarah (nothing is really known about her except that she was married and died in Northampton County, N.C.)

The fourth child born to Matthew and Sarah was named James, my great-great-great-great-great grandfather, who was born in 1735, in Burke County, N.C. James married Rebecca Stroud in 1770 and they had 6 children.

The third child born was named Drury, my great-great-great-great grandfather, and Drury was also born in Burke County, N.C.

It was James’ children that began the spread of the Mashburn family name. His son Elisha died in Forsyth City, Georgia, and his brother Levi, it is said in some accounts, that he moved “west”, and finally William died in Monroe City, Tennessee.

Drury married Elizabeth Morgan and had 12 children! The 6^th child was David, my great-great-great grandfather, born in 1799, still in or around Burke County, N.C. David lived to the ripe old age of 61, and had 8 children with Mary Woody.

David’s first son Noah Ozias, my great-great-grandfather, was the man that got my side of the family out of North Carolina! He married Rhoda Julia Ann Holden in August of 1848, the daughter of Uriah Holden and Rhoda Brookshire. Her name is the first in the family to be listed as being born “Cherokee Indian Nation, Gilmer County, Georgia”. The couple moved to Etowah County, Boaz, Alabama, and raised 7 children.

Noah’s family may also have been the first “Mashburn’s”. The move to a new state may have prompted the dropping of the “Marsh” and the “borne” from the surname. Only they know if it was by desire or by necessity!

Robert Jefferson “Mashburn”, my great-grandfather, was Noah and Rhoda’s 4^th child. He was born in Boaz, Alabama on April 12, 1857, and continued to live there for the next 81 years. The ol’ boy had 4 wives over this period too!

My direct linage comes through his 3^rd wife Sarah Robinson, and their 4^th child William Thomas Mashburn, my grandfather.

William Thomas was Robert Jefferson’s 11^th child. Robert sired 16 children with his 4 wives, spreading the Mashburn name throughout the south…almost single handedly through his 10 boys!

So, on the 14^th day of December in 1902, in the little town of Boaz, Alabama, the Reverend W. F. Milwee asked a small gathering of the couple’s friends, in the parlor of his home, to recognize William (Willie) Thomas Mashburn and Ola (otherwise known as Toler, and sometimes as Nora) L. (Lou) Hammonds as husband and wife. He ended the service by repeating what was written atop their marriage certificate, “What therefore God hath joined together let not man put asunder.”

The new couple, Ola 21, and Willie 22, would, over the next 22 years, have 7 boys and 1 girl. They were my grandparents. Their children, in order of their appearance, would be:

ARVIE LOYCE, WILLIAM EARL, SPENCER ERSIE, JESSE LEE, LOYCE GENEVA, ROBERT FRANKLIN, JAMES ERNST (my dad), ELMER EUGENE

In 1918, Willie (known to his family as Pa) and Ma (Ola) moved their family by covered wagon from Etowah County, Alabama to Five Points, Tennessee. James Ernst and Elmer Eugene were the last children to be born, and the only ones to be born in Tennessee.

He bought an 80 acre farm near Five Points and raised corn and cotton. It was on this farm that I learned to chop/hoe and pick cotton, and to weed long corn rows. Even as a small child I would often ride the “scratcher” through the field, busting up clods of dirt and grass, as Pa directed a team of “plow-broke” mules with gee’s, haw’s, and whoa’s! Pa would firmly bark out “Gee” and the team would veer right, or left to “Haw”!

I can still smell the white lime rich soil as it ran under me, dry and white on top, and dark and moist underneath, hear the crunch of the dry crust beneath his work shoes as he walked the plowed row beside me, the tinkle, the jingle, and the rasp of leather-on-leather from the harnesses, hear him grunt his commands, and hear the raspberry-like sound from the mule’s lips as they exhaled their complaints through slobbery mouths. A grandfather could leave no better legacy to his children than this!

Against that benchmark, I will fall terribly short.

Pa Mashburn was a hard working man, and did farm work until the year before his death in 1963. As a matter of fact, he “made a garden” the last summer of his life. He was 81 years old when he died and bragged the year before, in an article to the local newspaper, about having had only one “shot” from a doctor. He cut his hand working his farm that last year and was given a tetanus shot as a precaution.

Pa never had an easy job, whether it was cutting and hauling cross-ties using a “yoke of oxen” for 50 cents a day, or splitting rails and cutting logs. He did it all without complaint and must have walked thousands of miles in countless fields, fueled by only what he grew himself, and cooked with love, in lard, by his wife. Ma left Pa in the care of their unmarried daughter in 1960. It was my honor to have been one of her pallbearers.

Little is known about my grandmother’s family. Whether she took the Hammonds surname from her mother’s side of the family or her father’s is not known. All that is known is that she was raised by her grandmother, after her mother died when she was a young girl. However, she does show up in Boaz, Alabama in time to marry my grandfather in 1902.

And me, well, I’m:

James Paul Mashburn (Generation 11)

Son of James Ernest (Christine Williams)

Son of William Thomas (Nora Lou Hammond)

Son of Robert Jefferson (Sarah Roberson)

Son of Noah Ozias (Julia Ann Holden)

Son of David (Mary Woody)

Son of Drury (Elizabeth Morgan)

Son of James (Rebecca Stroud)

Son of Matthew Sr. (Sarah)

Son of Edward Jr. (Mary Farrar)

Son of Edward Sr. (Sarah Sindery)

My lineage can be argued, and other scenarios can be offered, but no one has any real proof contrary to the genealogy as presented. I like this scenario and I’m satisfied with it. Regardless, one day I’m sure, all will be revealed, and none of this will matter.

SILENT PROMISE

Excuse me if I write about my Ma once again. It was sometime back that I first mentioned her in a post called Does It Really Take the Entire Village? Ma was my dad’s mother. She was a skinny little snuff-dipping lady with about 4 feet of graying black hair rolled up in a tight bun, and held in place on the back of her head by long brown plastic hairpins. She was tough as they come. Pa did not dare cross her, and neither did her seven kids - six of which were good size boys.

With two boney little fingers pressed tightly against her lips, she could hit a tin “spit” can ten feet away! She ruled the roost with those boney little hands and even “whooped” her son Bob after he was married, and threatened to another.

She and her daughter Lois cooked with lard every meal, and without a doubt the best tasting seasoning a southern woman can use. Never mind that it is total artery clogging grease, you just do not care even knowing full well what it could do to you because it made things taste so darn good!

Together they made the best biscuits and cornbread the world has ever known. All of the children ate lard everyday, and if they had stayed on the farm, most of them would have lived as long as their parents did. Once they left, they got sedentary jobs like electricians, heavy equipment operators, and business owner/operators. These crafts just did not work the lard out off them, as farm work would have.

Ma came to East Tennessee once to visit. She was used to the flat land of lower Middle-Tennessee where you can see to the horizon and watch storm clouds coming your way for hours. The mountains were a new phenomenon to Ma and perplexed her greatly. I remember her running into our house one morning hollering, “Christine, come quick, the mountain is on fire!”

Mom went with her outside and quickly explained that it was only the clouds hanging low over them. She studied it a bit, spit out a stream, accepted it, and moved on.

I can only remember Ma telling me one thing, besides that she was going to whip me if I did not behave! She once told me “If you do as good as you look son, you’ll go a long way.” Well, I may have looked good as a kid to her, but if she could see old Mushy today, she might take that statement back!

I remembered those words as I watched them open the lower lid on her casket, adjust the quilted drape that was ran around the edges of the coffin, and close it again. I was shocked that Ma did not have any shoes on – just her usual thick stockings lying loosely against her boney little legs. As a pallbearer, I was standing very close awaiting instructions to assume my position at her feet, and as a fourteen-year-old boy, that struck me as very strange.

As we made our way down the front porch steps, which were only about three feet wide, I had to hang in the air from the coffin handle, momentarily allowing my side to dip to one side. As soon as the taller cousins reached the ground the coffin leveled out and I again attempted to carry my part of Ma.

I wondered if Ma had been rolled around much during the inadvertent tilt, and again about her little stocking feet. I silently made her a promise to do my best at that very moment.

I believe I did pretty good Ma, and it was partly because of what you said. I always wanted you to be proud of me. I sure hope you are.