Published in the September 2006 issue
of the SGES Quarterly
ALMOST A MINORCAN
J. G. Braddock Sr.
I got
into this crazy business of digging up dead people by being invited by
my wife, Valerie, to help her research her Humbert ancestors. She had
been researching them for over a decade and had accumulated an extensive
pile of notes. Now, she had run into not one, but two brick walls, one
between Godfrey Humbert and her great-grandfather William Charles
Humbert, the other between Godfrey and the Humberts of Purysburg.
Godfrey
seemingly dropped from the sky into a brief wedding announcement in a
1792 issue of the Charleston
Gazette. He proceeded to make his presence known in
Charleston
for the next 28 years through an abundance of public records. Not one,
however, documented his presence in
Charleston
—or any other place—prior to the announcement. Public records show
no other Humbert entering
Charleston
from another locale before Godfrey’s appearance, nor any since for at
least the next hundred years. It takes little stretch of the imagination
from that fact alone to conclude that Valerie and her many Humbert
relatives in
Charleston
and the surrounding area descend from Godfrey. However, the
imagination’s stretch is reduced even further by the fact that Godfrey
was a carpenter, at least three of his sons were carpenters, Valerie’s
aforementioned great-grandfather was a carpenter, her grandfather was a
carpenter, her father was a carpenter, and all her uncles were
carpenters.
The 1800
census shows Godfrey had four sons and two daughters. Early in her
research Valerie was able to trace several generations of descendants of
the two daughters. Not so with the sons. She was able to find names for
only three of the four. Only one record each was found for two of them,
John in the 1822 city directory and James on the 1850 census. Both were
listed as carpenters. Numerous records show the third son, William
Godfrey, who was the oldest, was also a carpenter. Genealogies of two
local families list the name of his wife, but no children.
So there
is every reason—except documented proof—to believe William Charles
Humbert is son of one of Godfrey’s sons. Because of the first name
William, William Godfrey is the most likely candidate.
So much
for the brick wall between Godfrey Humbert and Valerie’s
great-grandfather. The one between Godfrey and his ancestors is every
bit as thick, but attempts to crack it have been far more interesting.
Besides Godfrey, only one other Humbert family existed in
South Carolina
close to his time frame, David Pierre Humbert of Purrysburg and his
descendants. Purrysburg, now a dead town, was a Swiss settlement
thirty-five miles up the Savannah River on the
South Carolina
side. It was founded in mid-November 1732 when Colonel Jean Pierre de
Pury arrived in
South Carolina
from
Neufchatel
,
Switzerland
with the first boatload of German and French-speaking Protestant Swiss
immigrants. Records list the Humberts among the German speaking
immigrants. Several more boatloads followed. David Pierre arrived in one
of them. At some point he married Ursula Melchoir and historical records
document several of their children. But no Godfrey. Well documented
genealogies of these several children include no Godfrey. These
genealogies were based on reliable source documents that made it through
the ravages of the years to modern times. Many records did not make it.
If all the documents that existed in David Pierre’s day had made it, I
strongly suspect that David Pierre’s list of children would include a
Godfrey, and perhaps other children whose records of having existed were
lost through fire, disintegration, or were just plain old lost.
Our
suspicion of David Pierre having a son named Godfrey was not born of
wishful thinking or of our being too eager to knock down a brick wall.
It was based on existing source records showing a Godfrey Humbert
contemporary to David Pierre within a very few miles of Purrysburg. He
was much too old to have been the Charleston Godfrey who, according to
the 1800 census, was in age between 26 and 45. However, his name,
time-frame, and locale made him an attractive candidate for being father
of the Godfrey of Charleston.
First
appearance of this earlier Godfrey’s name in public records is as a
witness to the will of Sigismund Biltz, tailor, of
Savannah
,
Georgia
, July 18, 1765. A map of the settlement of
Bethany
made around that time by John G. William DeBrahm, Surveyor General of
South Carolina
and
Georgia
, shows Biltz having property in the
township
of
Bethany
.
Bethany
was in near vicinity of Purrysburg. In the October 13, 1765 issue of the
Georgia Gazette in
Savannah
, Godfrey advertised: “The subscriber, intending soon to leave this
province, desires all persons indebted to him, and those having demands
against him to send in their account.” Valerie speculated that he may
have come to
Charleston
, possibly bringing a family, including a son named Godfrey, the one who
married in 1792. Many Purrysburg families migrated to
Charleston
as the settlement gradually dwindled into a dead town. No documents to
support her speculation could be found.
At the
point I reluctantly let Valerie drag me into her genealogical quest, the
information summarized above, supported by reams of detail, was all she
had on Godfrey Humbert. Taking me on her research forays was like
carrying a gnat gun on an elephant hunt. I knew nothing about any of my
ancestors beyond my grandparents and didn’t care to know. Nonetheless,
for the next five years we visited practically every repository of
historical and genealogical records in
South Carolina
and
Georgia
, all of which she had visited her first time around. We found not one
scrap of new information. She had done her initial research well.
In the
process of making me help her, she infected me with the same disease
from which she suffers, an insatiable desire to learn about my
ancestors. I began researching my Braddocks along with her Humberts. As
one of my ancestors fought against the British ensconced in East Florida
during the Revolution, and his family had later migrated from
Georgia
into
East Florida
, I found an article in a January 1764 issue of the Georgia
Gazette of interest and made a copy of it. The article mentioned
that a great many blacksmiths and home carpenters and 15 bakers from
Savannah
were being engaged to go to
East Florida
.
Spain
had ceded
Florida
to
England
the year before. Apparently, the British were enlisting tradesmen to
help change the flavor of their new possession from Spanish to English.
Some time later I ran into the book, DeBrahm’s
Report of the General Survey in the Southern District of North America,
edited by Louis Devorsey. After DeBrahm made the earlier mentioned map
of
Bethany
, he became surveyor-general of the Southern District of colonies and
moved his headquarters to the capital of East Florida, the old city of
St. Augustine
. The book contained a census DeBrahm made of
East Florida
. Godfrey is listed on the census as “Godfried” and shown as a house
carpenter. So now we knew where Godfrey had gone after running the
notice in the
Savannah
newspaper—not to
Charleston
but to
St. Augustine
. And better than that, we now knew he was a carpenter.
Instantly, we became like two bloodhounds who had suddenly caught first
whiff of a prime suspect.
A letter
we found soon afterward in the Peter Force Collection of historical
records increased the whiff to a bona fide scent. DeBrahm had a
son-in-law, Frederick George Mulcaster, who was purported to be the
brother of
England
's King George III. In a letter dated September 29, 1775 from
St. Augustine
to Brig. Gen. James Grant, former governor of the
province
of
East Florida
and serving in the British army on the eve of the Revolution, Mulcaster
wrote: “Humbert, the carpenter, the other day asked me if you were
coming here.”
A
mention we found in Wilbur H. Siebert’s,
Loyalists in East Florida:
“Mr. Humbert, carpenter, paid £300 for work done for Mr. Drayton.”
also indicated Godfrey’s presence in the old city. I had learned by
this time in my research of my ancestors that a large number of East
Florida’s English population, most of them Loyalists, chose to make
their homes elsewhere rather than live under Spanish rule after Florida
was ceded back to Spain in 1783. Some returned to
England
. Many went to The Bahamas and other British possessions in the
Western Hemisphere
. Some few who had not been Loyalist returned to what had become the
United States
. We seized on the last category as a logical explanation of how Godfrey
Humbert—or a namesake son—could have appeared seemly from out of
nowhere in
Charleston
sometime before 1792. Having arrived in
East Florida
long before the Revolution, he did not bear the Loyalist taint. But our
theory was one for which we could find no records to prove, at least not
in
South Carolina
.
Having a
couple of hours of free time on our next trip to
Jacksonville
to visit relatives, we zipped the few miles down I-95 to the St.
Augustine Historical Society, hoping to quickly find records to
substantiate our theory. We found only two involving the name Humbert in
the very short time we had. One, a vital statistic card, said that Juana
Perpal[l], widow, married Bernard Ambar (Spanish for Humbert) and they
had a son named Bernardo Juan. The other mentioned the sale of a house
on
St. George St.
to Juana Humbert for her son she had by her late first husband Juan
Carlos Perpall. Entertaining the possibility that Bernard was Spanish
for Godfrey or was his middle name, we left
St. Augustine
with a feeling of accomplishment, confident the two records would
somehow tie into the Godfrey of Charleston.
Exciting
as it was to get a new lead on the long elusive origin of Godfrey
Humbert, equally exciting to us was another prospect. Valerie has an
olive complexion and dark hair. She never sunburns but only turns a
little tanner no matter how long she is in the sun. Several of her
Humbert relatives have the same characteristics. The Civil War discharge
of her great-grandfather, the one we suspect to be the grandson of the
Godfrey of Charleston, describes him as “short, dark eyes, dark hair,
dark complexion.” Because of this, I’ve always jokingly told her she
had Spanish blood in her. Now, we began to seriously hope we would find
her blood to be not only Spanish, but of the Minorcan variety.
Researching my Braddocks had been more than a genealogical pursuit. It
had also been a crash course in history, especially of
Florida
. Among the many important historical happenings in the state, I learned
of the settling of New Smyrna and the severe hardships Minorcans went
through, both in the hellhole of Andrew Turnbull’s plantation and
after its disintegration, and of how, without government handouts,
through hard work and determination, they made the word Minorcan
synonymous with quality. Every American citizen who thinks he or she
should be able to sit back and let the government supply all their needs
should be required to read the history of the Minorcans. They would
learn that the most effective entitlement is two eager hands attached to
a grateful and self-reliant attitude.
With a
new name, Perpall, to search for, we made the rounds locally and found a
record that made our Minorcan theory appear to be even more plausible.
We were ecstatic. The first
paragraph of a lengthy marriage settlement on the “Charleston Marriage
Settlements” microfilm read:
The settlement went
on to say that Jessy Rosalie Perpall’s father, Gabriel, owned
“…certain real estate in East Florida known as the
Island
of
Anastasia
...” As most people know, Anastasia Island is a large and valuable
chunk of real-estate along the ocean southeast of St. Augustine.
Our ecstasy was
triggered by the fact that Charles Manning Furman attended
Charleston
’s
First
Baptist
Church
, the oldest Baptist church south of
Kittery
,
Maine
, at the same time Godfrey Humbert and his family attended the church.
It was the church in which Godfrey married Elizabeth Gilbert in 1792.
Furman’s father, Dr. Richard Furman, for whom
Furman
University
is named, was the church’s pastor. To us this established a definite
connection, not only between
Charleston
and
St. Augustine
, but better still, between some members of Godfrey’s church and
Minorcans of St. Augustine.
The tearing down of
many a brick wall has started out with supposing, and we immediately
began supposing that Godfrey of Charleston really was the product of a Humbert/Perpall
marriage and that Jessy Rosalie Perpall had come to Charleston to visit
cousin Godfrey or, making a wild assumption, maybe even the elder
Godfrey and Juana, and had met Charles Furman during the visit. Of no
little influence to our supposing is the fact that there are, today,
several families of Minorican descent in
Charleston
, five of whom I knew members at one time or another: Cercopely, Capo,
Masters, Arnau, and Manucy. Their ancestors had arrived in the area from
Florida
many years ago. Travel between
Charleston
and
Florida
was done almost exclusively by boat in those days. It didn’t seem
farfetched to us to imagine that Godfrey may have been on the same boat
that brought some of those families.
A
search of the Internet turned up numerous Perpalls in military draft
records, militia muster rolls, slave schedules, and censuses. Several
had the given name Charles, including one with the middle name Furman.
None of them brought us an inch closer to making Valerie a Minorcan.
Neither did the few Internet records we found of Charles Furman,
including some that indicated he had held several important business and
government positions. One record was of a lengthy court case in which
his son brought suit against the governor of
Florida
and others in 1901 over the Anastasia grant. But we were confident all
the pieces of the puzzle would fall into place with another trip to
St. Augustine
.
Instead of pieces
falling into place from new information we learned on our second visit
to the St. Augustine Historical Society, the puzzle fell apart. Closer
examination of the Humbert/Perpall marriage record revealed they were
married August 17, 1780, much too late for Godfrey of Charleston, who
married in 1792, to be their son. If that one did not doom the dream of
Valerie having Minorcan ancestors, the next one we found did. It showed
that Bernard was a baker and was from
Alsace
,
France
, not
Switzerland
from where her Humberts had come.
Ten years have
passed since the day of our big disappointment. In that time, we
exhausted all possibilities without finding even the slightest clue of
the origin of Godfrey Humbert, carpenter, with Spanish looking people
among his descendants, who suddenly fell from the sky in
Charleston
in 1792. Maybe one day a record of the St. Augustine Godfrey marrying a
Minorcan senorita will fall from the sky along with another showing
their arrival in Charleston. Until then, Valerie will have to be content
in being almost a Minorcan.
RETURN