Bogus Tombstone

    My wife, Trisha, likes to visit graveyards.  She took me to visit one on our fourth or fifth date.  I must admit I was a little dubious at first, but she was a wonderful girl in every other way, so I went along.  We walked around in the quiet, reading the gravestones; for each one, she imagined a story.  If there was a little child, tears would come to her eyes.  The ones she liked best were the married couples buried next to each other at the end of a long life together.  What I did not know then is that sometimes tombstones lie.

    Trisha's interest was born in her early teens, when she became interested in researching her family history.  She interviewed her elder relatives and visited libraries and graveyards to fill in the details.  By the time we visited the graveyard together, she had researched some of her family back into the 18th century.  She has continued this hobby to the present day.

    For most or our married life I wasn't interested, but that changed about five (1994) years ago.  The massive amount of information Trisha had accumulated in almost three decades of research had become difficult to manage.  I suggested that a computer should be used.  Even though I had worked with computers most of our life together, she had never liked them.  In fact, she actively disliked them.  However, her desire to work on genealogy drove her to accept my idea, and she appealed to me to help her which, of course, I did.  The result was that I became interested in genealogy and Trisha became interested in computers.  Using her computer and the Internet she has researched much of her family back into the 16th century and has thousands of ancestors and relatives in her database.  She has posted her own genealogy web site.  With her help, I have done the same, except mine goes only back to the 17th century.

    Trisha and I are working together to produce a book showing their ancestry for our grandchildren.  We are researching not only our own family histories but those of our children-in-law as well.  For our two sons-in-law we have traced back to the 17th century, and for our daughter-in-law we have it back to the 13th century.  We plan to relate the information to what was going on in history during the lives of the various ancestors.

    Both Trisha and I were delighted to discover that we both had ancestors fighting against the British at the battle of King's Mountain during the War for Independence.  Since there were only about a thousand men fighting on the Colonial side, it is not completely impossible that our ancestors may have actually known each other.

    When people first take up the study of genealogy there is perhaps a naive hope of finding kings and queens, or at least glorious heroes, among their ancestors.  In the end though what they find is lots of people: some colorful, some not; some that make them proud; and others that do not.  For me tracing my roots has led me to feel many different things—proud, disappointed, delighted, surprised, frustrated, sad, amazed, ashamed, puzzled, and mystified.  Most of all it has given me a sense of my history that makes me feel as if I belong to an ancient, but living, clan.  Through all these feelings, weaving them together like a complex Oriental rug, is a thread of uncertainty.  It seems the evidence is always meager, inconsistent, or both.

    One of the most disappointing things that has happened was finding that my great uncle, the last of his generation, had died at the age of 100 last spring.  If only I had known sooner, I could have talked with him.  One of the most delightful things was finding a cousin who mailed me my grandmother's Bible.  I have found dozens of previously unknown, near and distant cousins with whom I now correspond regularly.

    Since my parents immediate families both live in other states, it was surprising to find that I have a number of cousins right here in middle Tennessee.  Apparently I am descended from one Henry Wheeler who arrived in Virginia in 1620.  A number of his Wheeler descendants live right here in Davidson County.  A Wheeler cousin once told me that the Wheeler building on Belmont's campus was named after one of our relatives.  I have learned to be skeptical of such assertions, but it might be true.

    The most distant cousin geographically is Janos Paulics.  After I contacted Janos my oldest brother, Paul, was able to visit him in Hungary.  Janos speaks only Magyar and Spanish.  Paul speaks only German and English.  Fortunately there was an interpreter present, and they had a good visit.  Even when we speak the same language, cousins often have very different information about their common ancestors.

     The saddest thing I have discovered is a letter from a cousin in Hungary to my great grandfather, Fabian Augustine.  It reports the death of another cousin during World War II.  A Russian soldier killed her by stabbing her in the stomach with a bayonet.  She was pregnant.

     Perhaps the strangest thing is the lady who predicted her own death.  My great grandmother, Mary Lucy Augustine, Fabian's wife, disapproved of the way the government was digging up the bodies of soldiers in Europe and shipping them home for re-internment after World War II.  She said it was very bad luck, and that if they "dug up her poor Jimmy, I will die."  Jimmy, her grandson, was buried in Belgium after the Battle of the Bulge.  Mary died the day Jimmy's body arrived at the train station in her hometown.  Their obituaries were printed next to each other in the newspaper.

    When I found this colorful note in the North Carolina 67th regimental history of the War Between the States regarding my great great grandfather, C. D. Foy, it made me feel proud:

Company H from Duplin, Jones and Craven Counties, Christopher D. Foy, Captain.  Captain Foy was a man of 60 years, was six feet and a half high, wore a long, flowing white beard that reached to his waist and was unique both in personal appearance and in the influence which he wielded over the men of his company. He was familiarly known in the regiment by the name of 'Tecumseh.'  When this writer first saw him he was marching at the head of his company of 65 or 70 men, who were following him, Indian-like, in single file.

    Of course, I am not proud of all of my ancestors.  For instance, some held slaves.  Claiming to own another human being seems such a repugnant idea to me.  Probably everyone has ancestors who did this.  Slavery has been practiced worldwide throughout most of human history.  But some of my ancestors held them at a time when it was controversial, and the subject of much public discourse.  This should have led them to examine their behavior, and their conscience.  But there they are, people, in my ancestors' last wills and testaments, mixed in with the cows, the land, and the tools.

     Because of the many inaccuracies I have found, I have learned that documenting sources is very important in studying genealogy.  However, even the best sources can be in error.  I found a gravestone with the wrong date in a veteran’s cemetery because he had lied about his age to get into the navy while he was still too young.  His military records had never been corrected.  A woman had two children out of wedlock, and to hide her shame they were reported in the census as the children of her parents, their grandparents.  Three children were reported as belonging to a couple, but the children did not actually exist.  They had apparently borrowed some neighbor children when an official had come to visit, to talk about government aid, in order to increase the amount of their subsidy.  A lady prepared a very authoritative looking genealogy with good supporting documentation, but had shown some of her own children with the incorrect father.  She was hiding the fact that her children had three different fathers, one of whom she had never married.  I have run across surnames that are the same, but spelled multiple ways from one generation to the next, and sometimes by the same person from time to time.  People sometimes decide to sign legal documents using their nicknames.  Immigration officials often changed surnames.  Some say this was done out of meanness, but I think it was more because they could not read foreign languages, and could not understand the immigrants.

    In my great grandmother, Sally Foy's , obituary I found an extremely frustrating inaccuracy.  It had the name of her father's home town misspelled.  Because of this, I could not find it for a long time.  When I did, I realized it was less than ten miles from where my son had been stationed in the Marine Corps for three years.  I had driven close to it many times on my visits with him.  What made it even more frustrating was that on our first visit we had seen signs that said, "FOY FOR SENATOR" plastered everywhere.  It crossed my mind that he might be related, but I did not follow up.

     Of course, there are many other possible causes of error and deception.  Perhaps people changed their name to hide from the law or a former spouse.  Speculation could go on and on.  I have done my best to be accurate, but I almost certainly have made errors in my own research.  All I can promise those who view my genealogy web site is that I have not deliberately tried to deceive.

     Because of the lack of hard evidence, and because of the kind of errors that can occur, it is difficult to know much that is beyond a shadow of a doubt.  Most of the time I must be content with fairly convincing evidence.  I am reminded of a National Geographic article I read recently.  For several years, some archaeologists have been digging around a castle in Cornwall, England which legend contends is Camelot.  Not long ago they found a fourteen hundred year old stone tablet that says in ancient Celtic, "This is the castle that Arthur built."  I find that fairly convincing evidence that they have indeed found Camelot.  It is not evidence beyond a shadow of a doubt, so there is still considerable argument among the experts.

     Speaking of castles, I discovered the existence of a Carden Castle in Ireland still owned by people with my surname.  However, I think my Cardens came from England.  At least that is the family legend, but family legends are not reliable, either.  I have good examples of this on both sides of my family.

     On my mother's side, my great great grandfather, John Joseph Agoston, froze to death.  That much seems certain.  In either 1888 or 1891, depending on which account is accepted, he died near Magyarpolony, Hungary.  Other details are in question as well.

    John's oldest son, Fabian Adam Augustine, was my mother's paternal grandfather.  My mother told me the story of his death several times when I was young.  I have absolutely not the faintest clue why she did this.  He had gone to the convent over the mountain to deliver a wagon load of produce from his farm.  It was payment for his daughter's tuition, room, and board.  On the return trip there was an accident which broke his leg.  He lay in the snow and froze to death.

     My cousins tell different stories, depending on which of John Joseph 's nine children is their ancestor.  George's descendants say that John Joseph froze to death while driving his horse and wagon to his home from town, where he had been visiting Fabian.  In this version, Fabian asked his father to spend the night because it was snowing so hard, but John wanted to get home to his family.  When the horse pulled up to the house, John's wife saw that he was frozen.  They got him into the house and put him next to the fire.  As he began to thaw, his fingers and toes fell off.  He died shortly after that.

     Another variation similar to this version has a sled instead of a wagon.  Still another without reference to where John had been has him being "set upon" by highwaymen and left to freeze to death.  Yet another story has an old man or a servant bringing him home, frozen, after the accident or robbery.  One cousin said she heard that the family went into hiding after John's death.

    It is interesting how the story has obviously changed over time with the telling.  On my father's side of the family there is also an anecdote with different versions, but in this case I think I can guess why it varies.
Jim Carden, my great grandfather, apparently spent most of his adult life on horseback.  From 1860 to 1865, he served with the Confederate Calvary in North Carolina, Virginia, and Pennsylvania.  From 1871 to 1889, he was a circuit riding Methodist preacher serving in North Carolina, West Virginia, Maryland, Missouri, and Colorado.  When Jim was stationed in Missouri, the Jesse James gang was operating within 30 miles of his home church.

    There was a Carden vs. Carden case in the Supreme Court of North Carolina, November 17, 1890.  The litigants were Jim Carden and his youngest brother Gaston Carden.  Apparently, it was over the deed to the family farm.  My great grandfather lost the case.  When Jim Carden died in February, 1920, my grandfather, Jim's son, refused Gaston admittance to the funeral services.  For all of the above facts concerning Jim Carden, there is convincing documentation.

    My father told the story that Jim was robbed by Jesse James of money and a pocket watch, but the outlaw later returned the watch, because there was an inscription in it from Jim's mother.  Jesse James is known to have been soft about things like that.  At least one cousin tells a different story about Jim Carden and Jesse James.
I was talking to a Carden cousin,  a descendant of Gaston, not too long ago.  According to his variation, Jim Carden rode with the James gang.  I can't help but believe that this less than flattering account had its birth in the 1890 lawsuit or perhaps in the snub thirty years later.  On the other hand, maybe both stories are true.  I have never found a Carden on a list of James gang members but none of the lists ever claim to be complete.

    For me the most interesting facts we have uncovered, have to do with our racial heritage. Some time ago we discovered that Trisha is descended from a group of people know as Melungeons.  The theory is that these are folks descended from Turkish, Moorish, and Portuguese pirates marooned on the Carolina coastline several centuries ago.  Later these people intermarried with American Indians, mostly Cherokees, and "runaway" slaves.  This turned out to be key in determining the nature of a mysterious disease that afflicted my daughter, Christine, in her childhood.  The doctors had never been able to adequately diagnose it.  It was serious for several years, and still bothers her from time to time in the form of inflamed joints.  It mimics arthritis, lupus and/or Lyme's disease, all three of which were considered possible diagnoses.  It was with a good deal of relief, that we finally solved this mystery.

    We have been researching erythema nodosum sarcoidosis for some time, and have learned much about it.  One important thing we discovered is that it is exclusively a disease afflicting people of African descent.  Another, is that it is carried on a recessive gene.  That means that Christine had to get it from both her parents, from Trisha AND from me.

    It is extremely doubtful I got this gene from my mother's side of the family.  I have almost proved her completely European and Oriental (Oriental from the Magyars and Huns).  What about my father?  What about blue eyed, blonde haired, Philip Moore Carden?  I remember the way his wrists used to get inflamed every time he was under a lot of stress.  He used to blame it on an old injury, but to my mind it behaved more like this hereditary disease.

     My paternal grandmother's maiden name is Moore and she was from Orange County, North Carolina.  The Moore surname and Orange County, North Carolina, are indications of possible Melungeon descent.  We have some books about Melungeons, and when we compare the pictures in them to the picture of my father's mother, she appears to have the Melungeon features.  Admittedly, all this is not evidence beyond a shadow of a doubt, but it is still fairly convincing, at least to me.  It is difficult to ascertain for sure because Melungeons tried to hide their racial heritage for many generations to avoid the bigotry, hatred, and unfair laws prevalent here for too long.

    I myself find that I like the idea that my heritage includes so many different races from so many different continents.  I think I spring from Magyar, Hun, Viking, Anglo-Saxon, Celt, German, Cherokee, Moor, Turk, Portuguese, and unknown sub-Saharan African tribes.  It makes me a not too distant cousin of everyone.

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Disclaimer:  The purpose of this Web Page is to share information for the purpose of research.  I have not proved documentation of all genealogy material, nor have I kept source notes as I should.  But I had lots of fun and met some great people along the way..

If you find any mistakes please contact the Web Page creator, Trisha Carden  , and I shall try to correct them.