I was thinking the other day about how I have a huge book that traces my family back to an indentured servant on the Mayflower, Edward Doty. Woohoo! Doesn't that make me special? Except, Edward was a scraper. The man who paid his passage in return for 7 years labor in the new world once tied together the wrists and ankles of Edward and the other indentured man and told them they wouldn't be untied until they worked out their differences. (Edward had pulled a knife on the other man.) It is said they were tied for 2 days until they got their act together. We know much about him and his descendants because, after he completed his service, he filed several lawsuits over the years. So he was apparently a difficult person. And the funny thing about it is, there is a whole, active Edward Doty Society, like they are all proud that he came over on the Mayflower and we are descendants of this disagreeable man. BUT, hey! Mayflower. Aren't we something? LOL! The more years I think about it, the more laughable it is that these thousands, maybe millions, of descendants are so proud to have that lineage. Hmm, I like Perdita's way of looking at it better!
No one has been able to track his history in England, and believe me, many have tried. But we do know that, after he worked off his 7 years of indenture, he married a woman named Elizabeth, and they had 8 children. Most of the children were pretty prolific, too. That's a lot of socks to weave and then keep (reasonably) clean. Then what about keeping that many kids fed day after day, year after year? Clearly the old adage applies. "A man works from sun up to sundown, but a woman's work is never done." But the hoopla is over Edward. He must have had some charm to enable him to win a bride, as women were limited. My branch of the family slowly migrated down the east coast and my gang across the Gulf Coast. We've been here in Texas about 6 generations. I have recently discovered that one of my grandmothers on the other side of the family, eight times removed, arrived on the next voyage over. You know they would have had to know one another. That boggles the mind.
Love, love, love this message. For the first time feels what belonging really means.
I was thinking the other day about how I have a huge book that traces my family back to an indentured servant on the Mayflower, Edward Doty. Woohoo! Doesn't that make me special? Except, Edward was a scraper. The man who paid his passage in return for 7 years labor in the new world once tied together the wrists and ankles of Edward and the other indentured man and told them they wouldn't be untied until they worked out their differences. (Edward had pulled a knife on the other man.) It is said they were tied for 2 days until they got their act together. We know much about him and his descendants because, after he completed his service, he filed several lawsuits over the years. So he was apparently a difficult person. And the funny thing about it is, there is a whole, active Edward Doty Society, like they are all proud that he came over on the Mayflower and we are descendants of this disagreeable man. BUT, hey! Mayflower. Aren't we something? LOL! The more years I think about it, the more laughable it is that these thousands, maybe millions, of descendants are so proud to have that lineage. Hmm, I like Perdita's way of looking at it better!
No one has been able to track his history in England, and believe me, many have tried. But we do know that, after he worked off his 7 years of indenture, he married a woman named Elizabeth, and they had 8 children. Most of the children were pretty prolific, too. That's a lot of socks to weave and then keep (reasonably) clean. Then what about keeping that many kids fed day after day, year after year? Clearly the old adage applies. "A man works from sun up to sundown, but a woman's work is never done." But the hoopla is over Edward. He must have had some charm to enable him to win a bride, as women were limited. My branch of the family slowly migrated down the east coast and my gang across the Gulf Coast. We've been here in Texas about 6 generations. I have recently discovered that one of my grandmothers on the other side of the family, eight times removed, arrived on the next voyage over. You know they would have had to know one another. That boggles the mind.