Chapter 10: 1719-1740, The widow and the watchmaker

Jean Jacques Flournoy was born in Switzerland to a prominent French Huguenot family. His great-great-grandfather had fled to Geneva after the massacre of the Protestants at Vassy. The family lived and flourished there for over one hundred years until Jean Jacques grew restless and decided to emigrate to Virginia.

2 He was a watchmaker by trade and decided to set up shop at Williamsburg, the colonial capital of Virginia. There Jean Jacques became John James, rented a room and began looking for a more suitable location to house his business.

3 Now it happened about that time that the widow of Orlando Jones was looking to sell her late husband’s house on Duke of Gloucester Street as directed in his will. Her name was Mary; and she was beautiful, charming and only twenty-three years old.

4 “The house is perfect, and its mistress is beautiful,” John told her. He purchased the house for one hundred pounds “current money” and one hundred pounds Sterling. He also began calling on the Widow Jones immediately thereafter.

5 One day, John knocked on her door and presented her with flowers as she welcomed him into her home. “They are splendid!” she exclaimed with obvious delight. “Not as splendid as the lady who holds them,” he replied. “Monsieur Flournoy, you are too kind, and people are beginning to talk,” Mary giggled. “Then we must silence all of the whispering and be married,” he blurted out.

6 They were married in June of 1720 at the Bruton Parish Church which had been finished just five years prior to that event. Everyone in Williamsburg seemed to be happy for the couple except for her first husband’s family.

7 Mary was the guardian of Orlando’s two young children by his first wife, her step-children. “We don’t want Mr. Flournoy taking advantage of the inheritance of my brother’s children,” Orlando’s sister protested. As a consequence, John and Mary surrendered custody of the boy and girl to the Jones family. Many years later, the daughter (Frances) would go on to have a daughter of her own (Martha), who would then go on to marry George Washington.

8 Nevertheless, the unpleasantness over Mary’s step-children did not put too much of a dent in the couple’s bliss. After all, they had already had four children of their own by that time. And, over the years that followed, they would produce five more children together. One of whom (a boy named Matthews) would figure prominently in the push to settle the lands on the other side of Virginia’s mountains.

9 Then, in March of 1640, tragedy struck the family. John came down with a fever and was dead within days. “I won’t last the week,” Mary predicted. She followed her husband to the grave two days later. Some of her neighbors said that she died of the fever, others claimed that she had died of a broken heart.

10 Now these are the generations of Jean Jacques Flournoy of Switzerland:

11 John James Flournoy married Mary Elizabeth Williams Jones, and they had a son named Matthews.

12 Matthews Flournoy married Patsy Pryor, and they had a son named Samuel.

Chapter 9: 1710-1717, A Maryland inn

The royal colony of Maryland granted a license to Charles Rumsey in 1710 to operate an ordinary (tavern/inn) on his property located at the headwaters of the Bohemia River. “Katherine, this will help to sustain our family,” he explained to his wife. The income which they derived from his plantation was simply not enough to support the couple and the four children who were still living at home (they had eight in all).

2 “It will mean a great deal more work for me, and we will have to share our home with strangers,” Katherine protested. “But we will do what we must do,” she sighed.

3 It did, after all, make sense. Numerous travelers had passed by their home over the years on their way to Wilmington and Philadelphia. “We must build a reputation for cleanliness and hospitality that will draw them to us,” Charles told his wife and children.

4 Toward that end, no one was more enthusiastic or helpful than their youngest son Edward. Edward was only seven years old when the Rumsey’s home became an ordinary, but he was determined to do his part from the very beginning. He especially enjoyed listening to the storytelling and political debates which their guests engaged in from time to time.

5 In the summer of 1716, two especially memorable guests stayed overnight at the inn. Thomas Harney was heading south on his way home from Wilmington, and John Brevard was heading north on his way to Philadelphia. Both men were travel weary, but they weren’t too tired to discuss the political rights of Catholics within the colony.

6 “The papists should not have the vote,” John said. “This is a royal colony of a Christian king and state,” Thomas agreed. “That’s true, but this was founded as a refuge for them,” another man reminded them.

7 “Do you want papists to rule here?” John demanded. “I didn’t say that,” the man protested. “Then you must agree with us that they should not have any opportunity to influence what happens here,” Thomas finished. “Well, there’s nothing before the assembly at present,” the man said as he downed his drink and left.

8 Edward had been so mesmerized by the conversation that he had almost forgotten what his father had sent him to do. He cleared his throat. “I’ll show you to your room now,” he offered. “Yes, I am very tired, and I’d like to get an early start in the morning,” Thomas admitted.

9 John nodded in agreement, and the two men followed Edward out of the common room and down a hallway. Although strangers to each other, the two men shared the same bed that night in the room designated for the Rumsey’s guests.

10 The next morning, Katherine served them breakfast while Edward saddled their horses and led them to the front of the house. John and Thomas thanked their hosts and paid Charles for their food and lodging. Then they shook hands, mounted their horses and rode off in separate directions.

11 Unfortunately, Charles died the following year. Edward’s older brothers, Charles and William, helped their mother settle their father’s estate and finish raising him. Moreover, as their father was not a wealthy man, things would be especially hard on Edward as the youngest son. Tradition and the law still favored older siblings when it came to inheritance. As for the Catholics in Maryland, they lost their right to vote a year after Charles’ death.

12 Now Charles and Katherine Rumsey were the parents of Prudence, Margaret, Grace, Elizabeth, Mary, Charles, William and Edward.

13 William became a surveyor and went on to become quite wealthy. His son, Benjamin, served as a delegate from Maryland to the Continental Congress in 1776 and 1777.

14 Edward was the father of a son named James, who would one day go on to become an inventor of many marvelous things.

Chapter 8: 1702-1714, The Irish Quakers

Gayen Miller’s parents had settled within the old Kingdom of Ulster in the northern part of Ireland as part of the British Government’s effort to colonize that island. While living there, they were exposed to the teachings of a Quaker named William Edmondson and liked what they heard. As a consequence, Gayen was raised in the new faith.

2 Thus, as an Irish Quaker, Gayen suffered the same deprivations and persecution that his brothers and sisters were suffering all over that island. To make matters worse, the native Irish resented the fact that they had been displaced by English and Scottish settlers and often took their frustrations out on their new neighbors. And, like all citizens of Great Britain at the time, they had to contend with the religious and political upheaval caused by the Glorious Revolution in England (the overthrow of King James II), including the civil war that those events engendered in Ireland.

3 Finally, as if those impediments to their peace and happiness were not enough, they had to contend with the fact that the policies of the government in London were purposely designed to restrict their ability to find markets for the goods which they produced on their farms. Hence, for many Irish Quakers, life on that island was becoming more and more intolerable.

4 Nevertheless, in the midst of all of these difficulties, one Irish Quaker had decided to light a candle rather than curse the darkness. William Penn had persuaded the king to grant him a charter to a large tract of land in America which he used to found a Quaker colony there. This enterprise immediately attracted the attention of his Irish brethren, and it didn’t take long for Gayen’s interest in the endeavor to turn into action.

5 Gayen had married Margaret Henderson, and they had already produced two sons together (James and William) when they decided to move to America. “We will not find there the troubles that have encompassed us here,” he explained to his wife. “That will be a relief, but won’t there be other troubles waiting for us there?” Margaret asked. “Oh, I’m sure there will be new challenges waiting for us on the other side of the ocean, dearest; but at least they won’t be the same ones that have hounded us here,” he chuckled.

6 “I would very much like to purchase the two-hundred-acre tract situated on this creek,” Gayen pointed to the map. “The Manor of Stenning is a desirable location, and I would be happy to make those arrangements for you, Mr. Miller,” James Logan replied (he was the attorney for owner Letitia Penn, William’s daughter). Thus, the business was concluded in short order, and Gayen rushed out to share the news with Margaret.

7 He built their home near a branch of Red Clay Creek, and the family quickly acclimated to their new surroundings. Margaret had two more babies within their first two years in their new home. Over the years that followed, the Millers would welcome eight more children into the world; and Kennett Township would accommodate many more Irish Quakers within its borders.

8 At first, the Friends gathered together for worship in each other’s homes. Nevertheless, Gayen and his neighbors never forgot the circumstances which had brought them to this place. “Let us not be so preoccupied with the building or our lives in this wilderness that we forget the Lord’s business,” Gayen reminded everyone. As a consequence, the community purchased a piece of land and erected a more permanent meeting house in 1710.

9 Four years later, Gayen was elected to the Pennsylvania Provincial Assembly. Thus, in the space of twelve years in America, Gayen and his family had found peace, prosperity and respect – things that had been sorely lacking in Ireland.

10 Now these are the generations of Gayen Miller:

11 Gayen married Margaret Henderson, and they had a son named James.

12 James Miller married Rachel Fred, and they had a son named James.

13 James Miller married Sarah Way, and they had a son named John.

14 John Miller married Jane Chamberlain, and they had a son named John.

15 John Miller married Margaret Ellis, and they had a son named Thomas.

16 Thomas Miller married Delilah Wade, and they had children together. 

Chapter 7: 1698-1712, The Welsh Quakers

In early April, John and Martha Hugh’s family traveled from Merionethshire to Liverpool. They were not alone. John’s sister’s family, along with a fairly large group of their Welsh brethren, joined them there. Indeed, they had all previously contracted with Mr. Robert Haydock to have one of his ships carry them to Pennsylvania (the arrangements with William Penn having been made prior to that).

2 “Welcome aboard!” greeted the captain of the Robert and Elizabeth as they loaded themselves and their belongings onto the ship. “Husband, I am most uneasy about this,” Martha whispered to John. “Calm yourself, wife,” he replied. “The Lord will watch over us,” he assured her.

3 They departed from Liverpool a few days later and made their way across the Irish Sea to Dublin, where they took on more cargo and supplies. Then, at the beginning of May, they set sail for America. As the ship made its way out into the open ocean, Martha and the other passengers began to let go of their misgivings about the enterprise and allow themselves to think about a future in Pennsylvania.

4 However, after five weeks at sea, uneasiness and despair began to worm its way back into the hearts of the passengers. Several of them had begun to experience abdominal pain, fever and diarrhea.

5 “What is wrong with them?” Captain Williams demanded. “Sir, I believe it is what is commonly referred to as the Bloody Flux,” Rowland Ellis calmly reported. “The Bloody Flux!” the captain exclaimed. “You had better start praying that it is not that!” he told his bewildered passenger.

6 Over the course of the next month, forty-eight passengers and crew members would perish from dysentery. Martha Hugh was one of those unfortunate souls.

7 Her children wept openly as her shrouded body was prayed over and then committed to the depths of the sea. “What will we do without our mother?” Jane asked her siblings. John looked away from his children and stared at the grey waves which had just received his wife’s lifeless body.

8 Eleanor Foulke watched her brother and his motherless children from a distance, and then left the comfort of her own husband and children to comfort him and them. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “May God comfort you and give you peace,” she told him. He cupped his own hand over hers and patted it to reassure her that he would be OK.

9 Eleanor then walked over to the children and wrapped her arms around them. Jane looked up at her aunt and smiled as Eleanor brushed the tears from her cheeks.

10 They finally reached Philadelphia in mid-July and quickly disembarked from the ship that had been the scene of so much sorrow for those who had been fortunate enough to survive the sickness that had ravaged its occupants. The city that awaited them was small by English standards, but it was bustling with activity and promise. And their spirits lifted the moment they stepped into its streets.

11 John had purchased a little over one square mile of land in a place that the Welsh settlers named Gwynedd. The still grief-stricken John poured himself into the work of constructing a house for himself and his children, and his friends and neighbors joined in the task. Thus, within a few weeks, the Hugh family had settled into their new home and occupied themselves with helping their neighbors to do likewise.

12 They also kept themselves busy with preparations for the approaching winter. There were barns to build and firewood to cut. There were smokehouses to fill with various kinds of meat, which meant that John accompanied his neighbors on numerous hunting trips into the surrounding woods that fall.

13 The first meetings of the local Friends were held in John’s parlor. And it was there that John began to notice one of the young ladies who had accompanied them on the journey to America. Her name was Ellen Williams, and John’s household needed a woman’s touch.

14 “We don’t really need another woman in the house,” Jane had told her father. “I will be the judge of that!” John told her.

15 John and Ellen were married in the new meeting house in 1702. At first, Jane resented the fact that her father had remarried. “This is my home,” she announced shortly after Ellen had moved into the house. “It is now my home too,” her new stepmother gently reminded her.

16 The initial friction within the household was soon ameliorated by the addition of two babies. A little girl was born just nine months after the wedding, and a little boy was born two years after that. Jane helped to take care of her little siblings and, in the process of doing so, grew closer to Ellen.

17 Then, in 1707, a new Welshman arrived in the community. His name was Thomas Ellis. And, like most of his neighbors, he was from Merionethshire.

18 “Welcome to Gwynedd,” John greeted him. “Thank you, Sir,” Thomas replied with a nod of his head. “This is my wife Ellen and my daughter Jane,” John introduced. Jane smiled as she shook his hand. “He is very handsome,” she thought. “She is a beautiful young lady,” Thomas thought.

19 A few years later, when Thomas had gotten settled on his new farm and had established his reputation within the local meeting, he remembered the young lady in the Hugh household and began calling there. At first, Jane pretended not to be interested, but her father continued to welcome Thomas into their home anyway. “You must not give up too easily,” John told him on one occasion when he noticed a look of profound disappointment on the young man’s face.

20 John’s advice proved to be sound in the end. Thomas’ persistence finally won over the young lady’s heart. At the end of October in 1712, Jane and Thomas were married and began a new life together.

21 Now these are the generations of John Hugh:

22 John and Martha Hugh were the parents of Jane, Rowland and Ellis.

23 Jane Hugh married Thomas Ellis, and they were the parents of Enos.

24 Enos Ellis married Elizabeth Coulston, and they were the parents of Thomas.

25 Thomas Ellis married Margaret Rees, and they were the parents of Margaret.

26 Margaret Ellis married John Miller, and they had children together. 

Chapter 6: 1687-1697, Struck by lightning

Freedom Lippincott had finished his apprenticeship in 1676 and married a young lady from Burlington named Mary Custons four years later. They already had two small sons together (Samuel and Thomas), and they were both anxious to build a new home that would better meet the needs of a growing and prosperous family.

2 Hence, in 1687, Freedom purchased just shy of three hundred acres of good farmland in Burlington County and promptly erected a new home for them on the land. In addition to that, he built a sturdy barn and a nice shed for his tanning and blacksmithing business.

3 Over the next six years, they added three more children to their tribe (Judith, Mary and Freedom). First Samuel and then Thomas had gotten big enough to help their father with his farming, tanning and blacksmithing. Sometimes they would let little Freedom hand his father a tool or a horseshoe, but his mother still kept him in the house with her and the girls most of the time. Nevertheless, the little guy was always happy when his father and brothers returned from their chores in the evenings and patted him on top of his head. “He will be so glad when he is able to go out with you boys,” Mary told them.

4 Freedom’s shed was hanging full of hides, and his fields were planted with corn, wheat and hay. His cows, pigs and chickens were doing well too, but his blacksmithing business had suffered of late. Ever since George Elkington had set up shop in the county, Freedom had received fewer and fewer requests for his services as a blacksmith. Oh sure, he was still the county favorite for shoeing horses, but most of the heavier work went to his rival.

5 Still, that wasn’t his only worry. There was also the matter of his mother’s recent death on his mind. Abigail had died at the beginning of the month (June). Although he had known that the end was near, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that both of his parents were now gone. He had been on his own for many years, but the finality of this separation had hit him like a ton of bricks.

6 The sun was just peeping over the horizon as Freedom finished his breakfast that morning. In fact, he was still patting his stomach in satisfaction when he heard a knock at the front door. As he opened the door, he was surprised to see John Woolman standing before him.

7 “Hello, Freedom, will you be able to shoe a horse for me today?” Woolman asked. “Is George sick?” he asked before thinking. “He’s very busy right now,” Woolman replied with a frown. “I’m sorry – I don’t mind,” Freedom reassured him.

8 “I’ve got the horse with me now. Can you take a look at him?” John asked. Freedom followed his neighbor out the door and approached the waiting animal. John pointed, and he lifted the horse’s right front hoof to examine it.

9 “Leave him with me, and I’ll be able to get to him after I feed and water my stock,” Freedom told him. Woolman looked relieved. “Thank you, I’m going to need him tomorrow morning,” he explained. “I’ll have him ready,” Lippincott assured him.

10 As he fed and watered the stock, Freedom heard some thunder rumbling off in the distance. “I had better hurry, or I am going to be drenched,” he thought to himself.

11 He led the horse to his shed and tied it to one of the posts just beyond his anvil. Fortunately, he had already started a fire burning in his small forge earlier that morning in anticipation of completing a few projects of his own.

12 Shoeing a horse was second nature to him. He gently lifted the animal’s hoof again and scraped out the muck and dirt that had collected there. Next, he trimmed the sole of the hoof to make it more even and placed the shoe against it to ascertain what he would need to do to make it fit properly. Having observed that the shoe would have to be widened a little, he placed it into the fire to heat the metal so that it would be more malleable.

13 The thunder was getting closer, and he noticed that the boys had left one of his buckets on top of the fence that ran up to the barn. He had walked about ten steps toward the bucket when the lightning struck. Freedom never knew what had happened. It killed him instantly.

14 Mary, however, had heard the loud clap of thunder; and she knew that it had struck something very close to the house. She hurried to the door and stepped outside. As she looked around, she noticed smoke rising from the direction of the shed and barn. “Freedom, Freedom, Freedom!” she called in desperation; but there was no reply.

15 She ran toward the shed. She saw his still smoking body lying on the open ground before her, and she knew immediately that he was dead. In one terrible moment, she had gone from a happily married woman to a widow facing the prospect of raising five children by herself.

16 “He just buried his mother less than two weeks ago,” she thought to herself as the tears streamed down her face. “I will hate June for the rest of my life,” she predicted as she ran toward the nearest neighbor’s house for help.

Chapter 5: 1693, Kidnapped from Scotland

Charles McAnally was a boy of eight years old that summer. He and James had been exploring along the River Forth for about an hour and a half when something near a small willow tree caught Charles’ eye.

2 “Hollo, I found something!” Charles shouted. “What have ya got Charlie?” James asked as he turned toward his friend. "I don’t know – I’m going to have a look!” he excitedly exclaimed.

3 By the time James scurried over the ground between them, Charles was crouched down and digging with his hands near the base of the tree. “Give me a hand with this!” he demanded.

4 “What is it, Charlie?” James asked again as he knelt down beside his friend. “It’s a clay pot, and it’s filled with silver and gold coins!” he replied.

5 In that instant, Charles was finally able to pull it free from its resting place, and James helped him carry it out into the sunlight. “This is a lot of money, Jamie!” Charles exclaimed.

6 They were much closer to James’ house, and Charles knew that they would need adult assistance with this. “Run and get your father,” he told his friend. James didn’t say a word. He jumped up and ran away in the direction of his home while Charles watched over their hoard. It took almost an hour for the boy and his father to return.

7 They rode up on horseback and quickly dismounted. Mr. Vann then slowly walked toward Charles and looked down at the pot. His eyes got bigger, and he knelt down beside the boy. James, however, was still standing by the horse and was looking at the river (not at his friend and father).

8 “You must go home and tell your own father,” the man finally said to Charles. “He will have to help me divide up this money,” he explained. “Can you take me to him?” Charles asked. “No, we will stay here and guard the money,” he snapped.

9 “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” the boy assured them. Then Charles got up and trotted off in the direction of home. Even so, he thought it was odd that Jamie hadn’t looked at him or said a word since he had returned with his father.

10 He had been walking along the road for about fifteen minutes when he heard a horse ride up behind him. “He must have changed his mind about giving me a ride,” Charles thought.

11 However, when he turned around, Mr. Vann wasn’t there. Instead, a man with a long black coat was seated on the horse before him.

12 “Where are ya going, lad?” the man asked him. “I’m on my way home,” the boy answered. “A boy your age shouldn’t be out on these roads alone,” the man observed. He held his hand out toward Charles. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride to your father’s house,” he offered.

13 Without thinking, Charles took the man’s hand, and he swung him up into the saddle behind him. “Hold on tight!” the man told him, and they galloped on down the road.

14 After riding for another twenty minutes, Charles began to wonder why they hadn’t reached his home yet. “He never asked me where my father lived?” he thought. Suddenly, a sense of fear and dread welled up within the boy, and he was afraid to ask the man why it was taking so long to reach his home. He looked at the countryside as it flew by them, and nothing was familiar to him.

15 Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they came into a city. “This is Glasgow,” Charles thought to himself. A few minutes later, the horse stopped. They were at the docks.

16 Without saying a word, the man reached behind him and grabbed the boy and set him on the ground. He then quickly dismounted and took Charles by the arm and began dragging him toward one of the ships that was docked there.

17 “Where are you taking me?” the boy demanded. The man smacked Charles’ face with his free hand and kept walking. Charles was really frightened now. They proceeded to board a ship and stopped in front of a bearded man who smelled very bad.

18 “This boy needs a job,” the man in the long black coat snarled. “I needs me a good cabin boy,” the other man replied. “I want to go home,” Charles sobbed. “That’s what they all say at the start!” the man laughed. “I’ll take him,” the bearded man said.

19 With that, the deal was done. After accepting a small pouch of silver coins, the man who had overtaken him on the road simply turned and walked away. Charles never saw him or his home again.

20 The ship smelled bad and it pitched back and forth as it rode across the waves. Charles was nauseas and homesick for the entire voyage, but he had little time to feel sorry for himself. The captain (the smelly man with the beard) made him work hard every day. He cleaned, fetched and ran messages for the captain.

21 At first, he thought that the captain’s name was “Bastard,” because that’s what the other men called him when he wasn’t around. It turned out they didn’t like him any better than Charles did. Then, one day, he heard one of the men call him “Will.” “He doesn’t look like any William I’ve ever known,” Charles thought. Not that it mattered much, but he also discovered that they were headed for America.

22 Finally, after weeks on the open sea, his journey was over as quickly as it had begun. He learned that the ship had docked at Philadelphia. Charles had heard about the city, but he didn’t know what to expect. Indeed, by now, he had learned to expect the unexpected.

23 They had only been there for two days when Will introduced the boy to Mr. Abraham Turner. “You are going to work for Mr. Turner as his servant,” the captain told him. Charles couldn’t see how much money Mr. Turner paid the captain, but he was told that he would be working for the man for the next seven years. They even made him put his mark on a document they called “a contract.”

24 It wasn’t a very auspicious beginning for a young boy in the New World. For better or worse, however, Charles McAnally was now an American.

25 Now these are the generations of Charles McAnally of Scotland:

26 Charles was the father of John, Charles and Mary.

27 John McAnally was the father of David and Elijah, and his brother Charles was the forefather of Andy Griffith (the television actor).

28 Elijah McAnally was the father of Edmond, and Edmond married Elizabeth Ketcham and had children.

Chapter 4: 1682, Blessed be the name of the Lord

As soon as news reached the Quakers living in the village of Aynhoe of the establishment of the Friend’s settlements in West Jersey, John Borton had begun planning and preparations to take his family there.

2 “John is consumed with the America business,” Richard Haines confided to his wife about his friend’s plans. “I have heard, husband, that our people are not persecuted there,” Margaret responded.

3 “That may be, dearest, but I’m not convinced that it is God’s will that we flee our present circumstances,” he continued. “But you will sign his certificate of removal?” she persisted. “Yes, if that is truly what he wants,” Richard conceded.

4 “We have the opportunity for a new life – a life where we are free to follow the light which God has placed within us,” John explained to his friend. “What about the hardships and suffering that almost certainly await you in that wilderness?” Richard asked.

5 “I have faced those things in England,” John persisted. “How do you know that God hasn’t prepared that place as a refuge for his people?” he demanded. “That is possible,” Richard thought, but he was silent for several minutes. “I do hope that you will find peace and happiness there,” he finally told his friend.

6 John placed his right hand on Richard’s shoulder. “I will miss our friendship and the affection which has always existed between our families,” he told him. There was a lump in Richard’s throat the size of an apple as he turned away from John. His mind was racing as he walked the short distance to his own home.

7 He opened the door and slowly moved toward the fireplace to warm his hands. “What do you think about going to America?” Richard asked his wife without looking up. “Are you talking about our friends or us?” Margaret asked. “Us,” he replied.

8 She studied the back of her husband’s head for a minute before replying. “I want what is best for you and our children,” she began slowly. “I worry about our future in this place.”

9 Richard turned around to face her. “I do too – I think that we should go!” he blurted out. “Are you certain, husband?” she asked. “I am not certain of anything but the Truth and my love for you and our children,” he replied with an honesty that both shocked and touched her.

10 Margaret quickly crossed the space between them and threw her arms around her husband. “I think that your next son should be born in America,” she whispered softly into his ear. “You mean!” Richard gasped. “Yes,” Margaret smiled.

11 The Haines and Borton families boarded The Amity in the spring of 1682 and set sail for America. The ship’s master, Richard Diamond, was an experienced navigator who had made the trip across the Atlantic several times before, and they all felt like they were in capable hands.

12 Nevertheless, the two families gathered in a circle, with some of the other Friends who had decided to try West Jersey and said a prayer. “May God bless each and every one of the souls aboard this vessel,” Richard said. “And bring us safely over the waves to our new home,” he finished.

13 All went well for the first week, and they made steady progress toward their new home. However, on the ninth day out from England, Richard noticed a line of dark clouds rapidly approaching them from the west. The wind picked up, and Captain Diamond’s sailors scrambled to pull down the sails. Soon, they were inundated by a rain that seemed to come at them from all directions, and the waves began splashing up over the sides of the ship. As a consequence, the captain didn’t have to tell everyone to stay below deck – they were more than happy to do so.

14 The tempest raged for days. At times, it seemed like the ship would flounder, but it never did. Finally, on the fourth day, the rain began to slacken. By the following day, there were moments of sunshine and then clear blue skies again.

15 Nevertheless, the storm had blown the ship off course, and the captain struggled to get them back on track. The following day, Captain Diamond told his passengers the bad news. “I’m afraid that the storm damaged some of our stores, and it may have added several weeks to our passage,” he explained. “That means that we will have to be very careful with our food and water for the remainder of our voyage,” he continued. “Are we going to make it?” John asked. “Yes, but we are going to have to be careful,” the captain repeated.

16 It was now high summer, and the ship was hot. Everything and everyone aboard stank, and everyone was miserable. Richard had been sick for a week, and Margaret was now great with child.

17 There was one bright spot, however. Richard’s and Margaret’s oldest son, John, had obviously fallen in love with John and Anne Borton’s daughter, Esther. “Maybe they will marry one day,” Richard almost whispered and even managed a weak smile.

18 A few hours later, Richard began slipping in and out of consciousness. When he was alert, he would look toward his wife (who was lying in the berth next to his). “Jooossseph,” he managed to croak out before he lost consciousness for the last time. Richard’s children (John, Richard, William and Mary) gathered around his bed and prayed that God would spare their father, but he slipped away a few minutes later.

19 Margaret was now crying and screaming as the ship gently swayed back and forth among the waves. She was in labor, and the baby could come at any time. Anne Borton dabbed a cloth in the fetid water beside her and wiped the sweat from her friend’s brow. A little over an hour later, Margaret was pushing, and Anne was pulling the baby out of her body.

20 “You have a son!” Anne told her as she placed the baby in her arms. “His name is Joseph,” Margaret told her as the tears streamed down her face. “The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord,” Anne whispered to herself.

21 Richard was buried at sea; but his wife, children and friends made it to America. Within a few years, Margaret had remarried; and the young romance which had blossomed aboard ship finally bore fruit. John Haines married Esther Borton. Likewise, Richard’s other children eventually married and had children of their own; and, through them, something of Richard made it to America too.

22 Now these are the generations of two of the passengers aboard The Amity:

23 Richard and Margaret Haines were the parents of John, Richard, Thomas, William, Mary and Joseph.

24 John married Esther Borton, and they were the ancestors of actors Kevin Bacon and Mark Hamill.

25 Richard Haines married Mary Carlisle, and they were the parents of Carlisle Haines. Carlisle married Sarah Matlock, and they were the ancestors of Allen Haines.

26 William Haines married Sarah Paine, and they had a son named Joseph. Joseph was also the father of Allen Haines, who married Sarah Ballinger.

27 John Borton married Anne Kinton, and they had a daughter named Elizabeth.

28 Elizabeth married John Woolman, and they had children: Samuel and Mary.

29 Samuel was the father of the abolitionist John Woolman.

30 Mary Woolman married William Hunt; and they were the ancestors of Delilah Wade, who married Thomas Miller.

Chapter 3: 1677, The Quaker colony of West Jersey

William Penn welcomed his old friend and personal physician, Dr. Daniel Wills, with a warm embrace. “Daniel, thank you for coming,” he began. “It is always good to see you, William,” the doctor replied.

2 “As you know, last year, the king granted us the right to form two provinces in America,” Penn continued. “Simply put, it is our intention to create a refuge there for our people – a place where they will be at liberty to exercise their consciences without fear of interruption by any one.”

3 “Yes, many of us are looking forward to moving ourselves and our families there,” Daniel acknowledged. William smiled. “We, the proprietors, would very much like to have you serve as one of our commissioners there,” he continued.

4 “And what precisely would I be doing in that capacity?” Daniel asked. “You would purchase lands from the Indians, divide them into tracts of sufficient size and distribute them to our people there.”

5 “I would be happy to serve in that capacity,” Daniel assured him. “We were hoping you would say that,” William smiled.

6 Then he turned and walked over to a table which was covered in papers and maps. “Now, there is the matter of the Concessions and Agreements,” Penn continued. “Before you commit yourself to this enterprise, we would like for you to look over the document; and, if you agree with the principles expressed therein, to sign it.”

7 The doctor walked over to the table and took the chair that William offered to him and began reading. In the meantime, Penn crossed over to one of the large windows in the room and amused himself with something that was happening outside. After reading through what would be expected of him as a commissioner, he noted that the document guaranteed certain rights to the individual inhabitants of the new colony.

8 The proprietors had stated that no man (or collection of men) had the “power or authority to rule over men's consciences in religious matters.” They went on to guarantee that every person who lived within the province would be free to fully enjoy “their judgments, and the exercise of their consciences, in matters of religious worship.” The provision which followed that one guaranteed the rights of the inhabitants to a trial by a jury of their peers. When he was finished reading, Daniel added his signature to the growing list of signatories at the end of the document.

9 He looked up and noticed that Penn was standing over him with a broad smile on his face. “It will be a great source of comfort to me knowing that you will make sure that these principles are put into practice,” William told him. “It will be my pleasure to do so,” Daniel assured him.

10 Daniel then returned to his own home and began making the necessary preparations for his trip to America. Toward that end, he contracted with three men to serve him in various capacities in the new colony: George Elkington as a blacksmith, William Matlock as a carpenter and Thomas Kendall as a bricklayer. Daniel also gathered his pregnant wife and seven children (James, Daniel, John, Samuel, Mary, Joseph and Elizabeth) together and headed to London to board the ship that would take them all to America.

11 Captain Gregory Marlowe was the master of The Kent, and he was anxious to get his passengers and their baggage aboard and begin their voyage. Hence, as soon as everyone and everything was secured, Marlowe ordered his men to hoist anchor, unfurl the sails and head down the Thames toward the open sea.

12 His passengers were all lined up along the ship’s rails taking in one last look at London when they noticed the royal yacht sailing along beside them. To their surprise, the king himself was seated on the deck of the ornate ship! “Are you all Quakers?” he asked. “Yes, we are all Friends,” George Elkington shouted. “May God bless you on the voyage to America!” Charles II shouted back as the two ships passed each other. “Who woulda thought we’d get a good send-off from the king?” William Matlock laughed.

13 However, before heading out to sea, The Kent made several stops along the coast of England to pick up more Quakers bound for the new colony. Thus, when the ship finally sailed for America in May, there were upwards of two hundred and seventy passengers aboard it.

14 One of them was another personal friend of William Penn from Sussex, England. His name was William Clayton, and his wife (Prudence) and seven children accompanied him on the trip. Their twin daughters, Mary and Elizabeth, were the most enthusiastic of the children about the voyage. They liked to pretend that the captain and his crew were a bunch of pirates who had kidnapped their family and was going to maroon them on an uninhabited island in the middle of the ocean.

15 It was high summer when they reached New York. Then, after taking on some fresh supplies and allowing some of their passengers to disembark there. Captain Marlowe sailed up the Delaware River to Rancocas Creek and deposited Daniel and most of the other passengers and their goods.

16 They had finally reached New Jersey, and they quickly set about the task of establishing themselves there. They called their new settlement Burlington.

17 To be sure, they all knew that they would endure hardships and suffer many deprivations over the years that followed, but there was also a widespread certainty that things would be better for them here than they had been in England. And, as if to reassure every one of that fact, the doctor’s wife delivered herself of a happy little baby girl shortly after they had arrived. They named her Anne.

18 Now these are the generations of some of the colonists who arrived aboard The Kent:

19 Daniel Wills was the father of John, and John married Hope Delafosse and had a daughter named Elizabeth.

20 Elizabeth Wills married Freedom Lippincott, and they had a daughter named Hope.

21 Hope married Henry Jones and had a daughter named Sarah.

22 Sarah married Joshua Ballinger, and they had a daughter named Sarah.

23 Sarah Ballinger married Allen Haines, and they had children together.

24 George Elkington married Mary Humphries Core, and they had a daughter named Elizabeth.

25 Elizabeth Elkington married Thomas Ballinger, and they had a son named Samuel.

26 Samuel was the father of Joshua Ballinger, who married Sarah Jones.

27 William Matlock married Mary Hancock, and they had a daughter named Sarah.

28 Sarah Matlock married Carlisle Haines, and they had children together.

29 William Clayton married Prudence Lankford, and they were the parents of Mary.

30 Mary married John Beals, and they had a son named John.

31 John married Sarah Bowater, and they had a daughter named Prudence.

32 Prudence married Richard Williams, and they were the ancestors of Delilah Wade.

33 Delilah married Thomas Miller, a descendant of Gayen Miller, and they had children together.

Chapter 2: 1661-1683, Free liberty of conscience

While Robert Cann was currying favor with Charles II, Richard and Abigail Lippincott (accompanied by their children) decided to hazard the voyage across the Atlantic yet again in pursuit of the ability to practice their faith without molestation or hindrance from their neighbors or government. The children suffered bouts of seasickness over much of the course of their long journey, and Abigail remained busy nursing them and tending to their needs. Nevertheless, the ship finally dropped anchor at Providence Plantations, and the family disembarked as soon as it was possible to do so and secured temporary lodgings there.

2 They settled at Newport, and Abigail was pregnant again within a year. The following year, the couple welcomed another son into their midst. “We will call him Preserved, because the Lord has preserved us through many trials and tribulations!” Richard announced. “A-men,” Abigail agreed in exhausted contentment.

3 In 1664, the news spread that the Dutch had finally surrendered New Amsterdam to the British (who had promptly renamed it New York). This event set into motion a series of events that would have a profound impact on many of the Quaker settlers in America (the Lippincott family included). New lands and new opportunities were opening up for them.

4 The following year, Richard and his friends were in contact with some Quakers from Long Island who had formed an association to purchase some land from the natives situated just to the south of New York. Samuel Spicer, one of the leading men of the association wrote to Richard: “Like you, I have been harassed and imprisoned for my devotion to the Truth. Together, we will build a place where our people can gather together in peace and follow the dictates of our consciences without fear of persecution or reprisal.” Richard responded by contributing a considerable sum of money to the venture.

5 A few weeks later, he received the news that Spicer and his associates had successfully contracted with the “Indians” to purchase an area known as Navesink (which would eventually be known as Monmouth, New Jersey). In April, Governor Nicolls granted them a patent for the tract. However, he did stipulate that the patent was contingent upon them settling the land and developing it for farming. The patent also guaranteed “free liberty of conscience” to the people who agreed to settle there.

6 That was enough for Richard and Abigail. They quickly gathered their belongings together and moved to what was to become Shrewsbury. In fact, a good many Quaker families did exactly the same thing, and it wasn’t long until there were enough of them to form a regular meeting of the brethren.

7 The Lippincotts built their home near the banks of Passequeneiqua Creek. And, as soon as they had finished work on it, the Friends there began meeting in their parlor. “It is so good to meet here together with all of you without fear of disturbance,” Richard announced when everyone was seated. “We hope that this will be the first of many such gatherings,” Abigail added.

8 The years that followed were preoccupied with clearing land, planting crops and constructing barns and other outbuildings. The work was hard, but the progress was rapid and undeniable. In just a few short years, the Monmouth Tract was transformed into a patchwork of fertile fields and pastures with well-built houses and fences.

9 In 1669, Richard was selected to take a seat on the Governor’s Council; but he promptly declined the honor. “I cannot violate my conscience by subscribing to the oath of allegiance which that seat requires,” Richard confided to his friends. The Council responded by imposing fines on those who refused to take the oath or attend official sessions.

10 The following year Richard made arrangements with a local blacksmith and tanner for the apprenticeship of his son Freedom. “He’s still a boy,” Abigail fretted. “He is in need of a little discipline, and he will learn a trade that will enable him to support himself and a family someday,” Richard explained to his wife. Abigail nodded and helped her son gather some clothing to take with him to his new home.

11 As the time approached for the boy and his father to depart, Richard noticed a single tear stream down Abigail’s left cheek. She knew that her son would never live under her roof again. Under the terms of the apprenticeship, he would live with his master until his twenty-first birthday. “We will see him every week on the Lord’s Day – he will sojourn with us for the entire day,” he assured her.

12 Abigail forced a smile and stood in the doorway and watched them walk away down the dusty road that ran in front of their house. She sighed, turned away and wiped another tear from her face as they disappeared behind some trees.

13 In 1672, George Fox decided to visit America. Richard and Abigail were delighted to have their old friend and mentor stay with them. Quakers from all over the area gathered at their home to hear from the founder of the movement. Fox was very impressed with the circumstances in which he found his friends in America.

14 “God has been good to his children here,” he told them. “I know it is selfish, but we all wish that you could stay here with us,” Richard told him.

15 Three years later, however, Richard again made the voyage across the ocean to encourage fellow Quakers to join him in America. He met there with John Fenwick and obtained a patent for one thousand acres within his new colony of West Jersey. “You will never regret your decision to situate your plantation there,” Richard had assured Fenwick and his associates.

16 In May of 1679, Richard divided his thousand acres into five equal tracts and distributed them to his sons. “You must build your own lives but let this be your start” he told them. Satisfied that he had provided for his family and made adequate provisions for their future happiness, Richard died just four and a half years later.

17 “This is the cruelest hardship that I have ever had to endure,” Abigail confided to her children. “Still, after many separations, the Lord has always been faithful to reunite us in the end,” she told them as the tears trickled down her cheeks.

18 Now these are the generations of Richard Lippincott, a righteous man before the Lord:

19 Richard and Abigail Lippincott were the parents of Remembrance, John, Abigail, Restore, Freedom, Increase, Jacob and Preserved.

20 Restore was the forefather of Richard Milhous Nixon and many others.

21 Freedom was the father of Samuel, Thomas, Judith, Mary and Freedom.

22 Freedom Lippincott married Elizabeth Wills, and they had children together. 

Journeys (1661-1765) - Chapter 1: 1661-1675, A Bristol merchant and his son

Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred … unto a land that I will show thee (Genesis 12:1)

Robert Cann’s father had been mayor of Bristol when the king had been beheaded and the Commonwealth was proclaimed. As a consequence, Robert was doing all that he could now to ingratiate himself with the newly restored King Charles II to protect his family’s interests in that city. Sure, he was wealthy, but he knew that that would be of little consequence if he was regarded as an enemy by the new regime.

2 “Why are you lending money to the king that you know will never be repaid?” his son asked him. “John, we must demonstrate our friendship and support,” Robert explained. “The king has the power of life and death, both for us and our commerce.” “If we’re paying the king for his favors, does not that make him a whore?” John demanded. “I would not say such things aloud, son,” his father warned him.

3 In spite of his son’s misgivings, Robert’s strategy bore substantial fruit in 1662. He became mayor and received a knighthood from the king. Then, that fall, came even more obvious proof that he had been right to court the king’s favor. Charles II made him Baronet Cann of Compton Green.

4 Even so, as his wealth and prestige continued to grow, Robert’s desire for ostentation and approbation grew with it. “We are the first family of Bristol, and we must act like it,” he told his wife and children. By the close of the decade, he had completed construction of a magnificent new home at Stoke Bishop. In addition to that stupendous piece of real estate, Robert could also boast about his home in Bristol proper and his sugar plantation in Barbados.

5 There were, however, storm clouds on the horizon. John posed a direct threat to his father’s interests in England. Like his maternal grandfather and namesake, he was a vocal nonconformist; and Charles II was not enamored of anything which threatened the prosperity and tranquility of his realm.

6 In short, John simply was not enchanted with the life which his father had carved out for himself and his family in Bristol. “It is all so superficial and transient,” he explained to his new friend. “Though, I believe your father is kindly disposed towards our beliefs,” John Fenwick replied. “Yes, at least he tolerates our Society,” Cann admitted. “Unhappily, as you well know, there are not many here who are so tolerant,” Fenwick reminded him.

7 “That is why I am so interested in your venture in West Jersey,” Cann continued. “Are you certain that you are willing to give up your advantages here?” Fenwick pressed. “I am a simple tailor, and I am content with that,” Cann persisted. “We will be leaving for America soon,” Fenwick told him. “And Mary and I still want to be aboard that ship when it departs England,” Cann assured him.

8 Thus it was that, in the summer of 1675, John Cann met Fenwick and the other Quaker emigrants in London. And, at the end of July, they set sail aboard The Griffin for West Jersey.

9 They reached their destination in early October. “We will find peace here,” Fenwick assured them all. 

10 Now these are the generations of Robert Cann of Bristol, England:

11 Robert married his cousin Deliverance Cann, the daughter of the Reverend John Cann (the leader of the English Nonconformists in the Netherlands). Together, Robert and Deliverance had a son whom they named after her father.

12 And John begat William. Then William married Jane Lewis, and they had a daughter named Susanna.

13 Susanna married James McMasters and had sons: David, Daniel, William, Andrew, Samuel, Jonathan, Simeon and Lewis. 

Chapter 12: 1638-1660, The spiritual journey of a man and his family

Unfortunately, the Howland brothers weren’t the only ones having problems with the established church. In the summer of 1638, Richard Lippincott arrived in Boston from England aboard The Martin. It had only been a few years previous that John Winthrop and his associates had founded their “city on a hill,” but Boston was well on its way to becoming the nerve center of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. He settled first at Dorchester and was quickly confirmed to be a member of the established church there.

2 A little over a year later, he married Goody Abigail after going through the rigors of a Puritan courtship and was declared to be a freeman by the court in Boston. Their first son was born there the following year. “I will call him ‘Remembrance’ in honor of the memories I have of my native country,” Richard declared. “If the good man that is my husband so desires to name our son, then let him forever be known by that name,” Abigail agreed.

3 Their happiness, however, was interrupted by Richard’s increasing distaste for the strictures on life in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. In short, Richard had begun to regard the practices of the established church as too stiff, formal and steeped in beliefs and traditions that he could not find in Scripture.

4 “They have a form of godliness, but they deny the power of it!” he declared to Abigail one day. “They have turned the freedom which we have in Christ into heavy chains that bind us to the temporal things of this earth,” he continued.

5 Over the years that followed, things only got worse for Richard. His statements about his personal convictions became more public and more strident over that time. Finally, in 1651, he was formally excommunicated from the established church.

6 The following year, Richard, Abigail and the children had had enough and returned to England. Another son was soon born there, and Richard decided to name him ‘Restore’ to commemorate their homecoming. “We have been restored to the land and happiness which gave birth to us!” he declared. Once again, however, their happiness would prove to be short-lived.

7 It was about this time that Richard and Abigail met a lady named Margaret Fell. Like them, Margaret had grown very disenchanted with the established church and its teachings. “I know of a man who has opened the pages of a new book to our understanding – the book of Jesus Christ,” she told them. Eager to hear more about this new way, Richard and Abigail were pleased to be introduced to her friend George Fox and hear his message.

8 In the midst of a large gathering of the citizens of Plymouth (where he and Abigail were then residing), Richard declared that “Christ is the Word of God, and the Bible represents a piece of God’s mind!”

9 Unfortunately, the mayor overheard the remark and had him arrested and imprisoned for his “blasphemous and dangerous heresy.” Nevertheless, Richard was able to secure his release within a short time and rejoiced in the persecution which he had been subjected to for Christ’s sake.

10 In fact, when another son was welcomed into their family that fall, Richard named him ‘Freedom’ in commemoration of the event. “God has seen my suffering and rewarded me with Freedom,” he told his friends and neighbors. “Hereafter, we shall be devoted to following the light which God has revealed to us whatever the consequences may be,” Richard promised.

11 The mayor of Plymouth, however, was just as determined as Richard. In 1660, while attending another meeting of the Quakers there, Richard was once again arrested and imprisoned. Indeed, many of the leading members of the community found themselves in the same circumstances that year.

12 Fortunately for Richard and his friends, the Commonwealth had ended a few months before; and the monarchy had been restored in the person of King Charles II. The new king did not like extremes and disliked bullying and persecution, and Margaret Fell decided to appeal to him on behalf of her brethren who were then languishing in prison.

13 Toward that end, she wrote a letter to the king explaining both the movement and the various persecutions to which its members had been subjected to during the interregnum. She said: “As a people, we have been hated and despised. Many people have spoken against us and have said that we are not fit to live. Thus, we have suffered as a people and have been imprisoned, whipped and subjected to the spoiling of our goods.”

14 Fell continued: “We, nevertheless, openly declare our fidelity to the king and our desire for peace, love and unity among all people. We, therefore, humbly petition you to cause our friends to be released from the Prisons and so keep their innocent blood from staining your hands.”

15 Because of that letter, Richard and many other Quakers were released from prison later that year. “The things which we suffered in Massachusetts look insignificant when compared to what we have suffered here,” Richard told Abigail when he returned home. “And, I’ve heard that Roger Williams has founded a new and more tolerant colony there in our absence,” he continued.

16 “What are you saying, husband?” Abigail asked. “I am saying that I think that we should leave England for good and return to America.” “I have devoted my life to God, and to you and our children,” she began. “I will follow you to the ends of the earth!” With tears welling up in his eyes, Richard embraced his wife; and they began making the necessary preparations for yet another trip across the Atlantic Ocean.