Grandmother's Wooing

 

William Paul, on Old Deck, about 1892

Around 1893 or so – Grandmother, Victoria Rosser, would have been 16 , and my grandfather, Bill Paul, 17 – Bill started riding up to the Rosser house on his horse, Old Deck, asking to see Grandmother. They had known each other since the Rossers came to Indian Territory seven year earlier, and may have been in the same school together. But apparently Grandpa refused to let Bill in, or Vick out, since their feelings for each other were mutual. I thought at first his opposition to their relationship might have been prejudice against Indians, but that didn’t really make sense since the Chickasaws were the most prominent members of the community, but Bill wasn’t just any Chickasaw. His father, Sam Paul, had been the Progressive candidate for Chickasaw governor, until he was murdered by his own son, Bill’s older brother Joe, in 1891. And if that hadn’t been enough family scandal, Joe himself was murdered in 1895 by his cousin,  Jennison. 

In the meantime, Vick’s mother died of a tumor in her abdomen, so Vick and Bill were probably drawn together even more since both had recently lost a parent. After his wife’s death Grandpa sent Vick and her younger sister, Ada, to stay with their older sister, Cora, who was divorced and living in the nearby town of Wynnewood, where she had opened a millinery (hat) shop. “Old Sis,” as Vick called Cora, was even more opposed to her love affair with the young Chickasaw than her father, so this arrangement just led to more tension. That’s when Grandpa sent Vick to Georgia to visit his mother, Sarah Rosser Lumpkin, to try and cool things down a bit.

Here’s a letter Vick received from Grandmother Lumpkin after her return from Georgia. 

 1895: Envelope: To: Miss Victoria Rosser, Wynnewood, Chickasaw Nation, Indian Territory.

            From: Cedartown, Ga., 1895

To Vicie,

Dear Grandaughter

I received your letter also ---- little ears which were the first I ever saw of the kind. (Mamma must have sent her some animal ears which were intended as a good luck charm) We had a very smart statesman of whom it was said that he carried a rabbit foot in his pocket for luck. I think if there is anything in it, that one of those ears would do as well. I want you to write a long letter. When you wrote me you did not say anything about Cora and I have not heard from her since she first got home. (Mamma’s sister Cora must have recently visited their grandmother. She got a divorce from her husband about this time so it may have been that event that occasioned her visit) I am very anxious to hear from her - we should be glad if she could be near us so we could see her any time - We also hope to see you and little Sis (Sister Ada) I forgot to keep the size of the square I sent you, but you can send me the length of it in your letters, with piece. (I can’t make out all the words but Grandma Lumpkin was apparently sending her granddaughter pieces of material for a quilt Mamma was making for her hope chest.) - thanked? Ada - you and she were getting on well with your music which I want to hear (the melodian) - you must persevere and keep up your practice, and do not neglect it to make a quilt - The snow gin away very slowly - Cora carried a pacel of things for your ma’s grave but the weather has been very unfavorable to work with flowers - The cold has just withered my flowers - I have a friend in town who has saved some. I had a letter from Kittie (another of Mamma’s older sisters) last night saying all wise well - give love to all of the family and write soon to your affectionate

Grand Ma SDL (Sarah Dismukes Lumpkin - Dismukes was her maiden name)

Footnote: Scans Family - My Scans - Scan 0002 - 2-1 & 2. From family Bible.

Victoria Rosser, in about 1892

Around the time Vick visited her grandmother in Georgia, Bill got married !  To his cousin, Abbie McClure. I guess he just gave up on Vick since the Rossers were determined to keep them apart. But then something happened that changed everything. Abbie’s brother murdered Bill’s brother Joe. The Paul and McClure families’ relationships were complicated, and I won’t try and explain them since I don’t understand them either, but after Joe's death, Bill’s marriage to Abbie soured, and his relationship with Vick Rosser started up again. 

The scandals continued. In 1897 Jennison was found run over by a train, with bullet holes in his chest. Bill and his brother Buck were prime suspects in the presumed murder, but neither was indicted. When I asked my mother about it, she said simply, “Pappa and Uncle Buck were away at school. They couldn’t have done it.” Actually Sherman, Texas, isn’t that far from Pauls Valley, even on horseback. 

So, in spite of Bill’s marriage, he and Vick kept seeing each other, and in November of 1898 they were married only a month after his divorce from Abbie McClure. 

Here’s another letter from Grandmother Lumpkin, just a couple of months before her wedding. 

Cedartown, Ga                                                                     July 9, 1898

     Dear Vicie

                  Your good letter to hand, picture a fine substantial looking fellow and strong. - you say you would not have him go to the War (The Spanish American War). He looks well fitted by nature for campaigning. I hope however he will not have to go for now - I think the War may end pretty soon - we have destroyed the Spanish fleet at Santiago and will bombard the city if they do not surrender very soon - I am glad to hear that you all are well and that you have a good prospect ahead and feeling happy - large weddings have gone out of style here in Ga - They get married in a traveling suit and take a trip off somewhere - Marry at a church mostly (Mamma and Pappa got married at the Garvins' home) - You did not say that Mr Morris had married out in California - We thought it would be an easy matter for him there when Cora was here (Mr Morris was Sister Cora’s ex-husband.)- I am sorry you do not hear from her - I have replied to her last letter to me long since, but perhaps she did not get it - I hope you will be good to old Sis, as you call her - I leave it as my dieing request - I fear that crops will be short this year in Ga. for the lack of rain. People are becoming discouraged - Glad you have good seasons - We have clouds but little rain - Mr L’s (Lumpkin) health is very precarious - he complains of his head and is more and more unable to move around - I am better and more active than I ever expected to be anymore. You ask after your Uncle D’s family (Perhaps Dismuke? which was Grandma L’s maiden name) - I have not seen any of them in some time. They have had a death in the family, Tidies husband. Left her in good circumstances with 3 little ones to raise - his bro Jones lives with her - She is a thorough going woman - good woman – Bessie’s health is better. Aunt Della is badly broken down - Dave looks well and handsome - The Bookmart kin are pretty well and nice. Your Uncle Jacks wife has gone north to visit his relatives -well I suppose I shall have to quit calling you the little girl now. I hope you may enjoy a long and happy life, though I shall not be here to hear from you very much longer- You must be a very good wife- amiable and sweet tempered, as you will have everything that you desire without having to work and make it. (after all, she was marrying a rich Indian) Your lives have fallen in pleasant places. Write me soon again. I shall like to hear from you. Give my love to your Pa and Sisters.

Your Affectionate Grandma. S D Lumpkin.

Footnote: Documents - Scans family - My Scans - Scan 0002_3-4. 

Shortly after this letter was written, Mr. Lumpkin died, leaving Grandma Lumpkin alone. Grandpa Rosser brought his mother out to Indian Territory, but she didn’t live long. Grandmother’s “Old Sis” Cora married again, this time to a Doctor Glaze, and they moved to Idaho, where she opened a flower shop. They had a daughter together named Mildred. 

Cora Rosser Glaze, 1912

Grandmother Paul

                                                                Great Dane

My grandmothers were both pretty amazing: raised on the frontier, strong, tough, able to ride a horse or work a mule. Both cooked on a wood burning stove, raising their own fruit and vegetables, butchering and curing meat, making their own butter and soap. They were their family’s seamstress, teacher, and sometimes even entertainment. My mother Wenonah said that Mamma was always telling them stories, and quoting maxims, and they followed her from room to room as she worked.   

I spent a lot of time with each of my grandmothers, but I know more about my grandmother Paul, because of the stories my mother Wenonah told me, and from the stories she told and wrote herself. 

Grandmother Paul loved dogs, and as I told in “Wenonah’s Story” her first dog was a Great Dane named “Watch.” She and her sisters played with him, and he was also their protector. In “Wenonah’s Story” I told of how he once saved them from being attacked by wolves. In a letter to Wenonah in 1948 she told the story of Watch’s death. Grandmother was probably 7 or 8 years old at the time and the family was living in Arkansas, the last place they lived on their journey across the country from Georgia after the Civil War, before finally settling in Indian Territory in 1888. 

I told Kaliteyo (Wenonah’s older sister) about seeing Brother Tom come in at the door. it was snowing & he & Wach had been hunting & Tom had great big wolly gloves on & had his gun hugged up in his arms & cap on with ear flaps. When he opened the door he said “Mother I killed wach.” He was crying. & Mother was sewing. She just got up & spilled her sewing on the floor & screamed & we all did. Papa got up and said, “quiette down. It was just a dog,” but what a Dog. He was our Life guard. Tom never claimed another dog as long as he lived. Watch was his. Don’t think that I am morbid, because things have come to me before when I wasen’t leaste expecting anything.

(Scrapb 2 P 74)

 No dog could take Watch’s place, but Grandmother told of other dogs from her childhood. There was the dog that got lost. I never knew his name. Every few years Pappa would move the family further west. He would load up the wagon, hitch up Old Bet the ox, and off they would go, but this time, when they called for the dog, he was nowhere to be found. They called to him and searched the area around their cabin, to no avail. Finally they started off anyway thinking he would catch up, but a day passed, and then another, but no dog. After about a week they decided that he had been killed or had taken up with another family. It was about a month later he showed up. He couldn’t tell them where he had been or how he was able to follow them after so long a time, but it was a happy reunion. 

Grandmother wrote about another dog in a letter to Aunt Oteka. She had just returned from a trip to Arkansas. 

Dear Oteka,

It is going to rain. but the Birds are singing. & I have put feed out for them & fed my pets in the House. My Pidgeons on my Porch are a pare, because one crokes & the other does not. it is so cloudy and damp. I hope it will save my Arkansas Rose bushes. I am glad I got to go back to Palmer Station. I must have been tirable happy there. I don’t believe that we were on the rite place where Eula was Buried. They have changed those Roads & I don’t believe that we were far enough out. They had Country Roads & not verry good ones at that. We went to Mr Scruses grave all rite the House that Sister Cora lived in, also. but I think Papa’s place was on the opside (opposite?) Side of the road. That is still a cotton country. Some day if I live I am going back. This was a flying visit. It sure made old memories come alive. In early spring will be a good time to go. Haskell is just as anxious as I am. I would have to be there several days because things have changed and people have passed away, but that old cypress will remain the same. Henry Morris who married Sister Cora was born & raised in Marvil & his people are burried there. I love those first memories. Sister Cora lived in Hide Park & Kittie Staid with her & went to School at Hide Park. & I was alway jellous because I did (not?) Get to go there too. Papa had a Friend by name of Fitzpatric who lived in Helena. He is the (one?) Who sent me the little Bantam Chickens. We also had a little dog. I think that he was lost & came to our House. His master had died & Papa sent little Forkerberry to the man’s wife & we cride kissed little Forkerberry goodbye.

(Box 1, File folder: News clippings, misc.)

Uncle Tom's Memory Book

                                         Cora, Thomas, and Ada Rosser

Among my mother’s keepsakes is a “Memory Book” with autographs and notes collected by my great uncle, Thomas Spurgeon Rosser. The book looks like it probably had a cover at one time, but all that is left now are a few pages of brittle paper with notes written in pencil. It contains notes from classmates and family members written between 1890 and 1892.

Uncle Tom was 21 years old when he started his memory book. He had spent his life moving from one place to another as his family migrated over the 800 miles from Georgia to Indian Territory. His education would have been haphazard as they moved from one place to another in an ox drawn wagon. As the only son he helped his father build or repair cabins where they would settle, plowed the fields, and hunted game. They would live for several years in one place before moving on, becoming part of each community.  

The Rossers spent the most time in Palmer Station, Arkansas, about 8 years. You won't find Palmer Station on a map, but it's in eastern Arkansas, not far from the Mississippi River, where Tom would later return to start his own farm. My grandmother, Tom’s little sister, loved Palmer Station, with it’s rolling hills, wild flowers and birds. That’s where she spent her childhood and where Tom probably got most of his education. The older children went to school at Hyde Park. You won’t find it on the map either. 

Grandpa, as my mother called her grandfather, had been headed for Texas, where his older brother Ed had settled years earlier, but he was enchanted by the rich bottom land in the Washita Valley in Indian Territory. In 1888 when he paid the $5 fee to live in the Chickasaw Nation and rented a farm near Cherokee Town, it had been 22 years since he and his wife Emily had fled the turbulent South.

 

By then it was probably too late for Grandpa to make it to Texas. His older daughter, Cora, was already married, and Lillie and Kitty were nearing marriageable age at 16 and 14. By the time he had saved enough money to move again, even his younger daughters Victoria and Ada, aged 11 and 9, would be practically grown, so he had to give up on joining Uncle Ed. 

Most schools on the frontier were private “subscription” schools. Grandpa actually got together with some other settlers and hired a teacher when he first arrived in Indian Territory, but later he sent his children to a subscription school in Pauls Valley started by one of my grandfather’s cousins, Amos Waite, who had a college education. The Chickasaws actually had public schools supported by the tribe, but white children weren’t eligible to attend. Many Indian children attended subscription schools though. In fact that’s where my grandmother and grandfather met.  

Uncle Tom was 21 when he started his memory book, and he probably figured he had had enough schooling. there aren't many entries in his book. Some sound a little old fashioned, but not unlike notes you'd find today on a high school year book. The notes from his sisters are especially sweet. He must have been a good brother. 

The first note in Uncle Tom’s memory book are from his sister Lillie (age 18): 

Night and day have passed away

The hills and valleys part

But the dear affection I hold for you

Dear Brother shall never leave my heart

This Dec 30, 1890, Your sister Lillie 

On June 20, 1892 my grandmother (age 15) added: 

Sailing down the sea of time in your little bark canoe may you have a pleasant trip with just room enough for two.

Your sister Vicie Rosser 

Next, a classmate: 

To a friend

Oh think of me when far away and only half awake.

Oh think of me on your wedding day and send me a piece of cake.

Mary A. Schmidt 

Another classmate: 

Friend Tommie

May joy through all your future flow

Like water down a tater row

May peace and plenty be your lot

As down the hill of life you roll

Your friend and well wisher,

W.N. Green 

Gag notes were popular then as they are now: 

Mr. Tom

If scribbling in albums remembrance insures

With the greatest of pleasure I’ll scribble in yours

Your friend Josh 

An ornery classmate: 

Well Tom you have a long time yit.

But divil the gal you will ever git.

J G R 

One of the descendants of Jesse Chisolm, after whom the Chisolm trail was named wrote: 

Mr. Tom

Always remember your true friend

Emma Chisolm 

Finally, a note from Sister Kittie:

In the evening of life

Cherish the remembrance

Of one who loved thee

In its morning

Jan. 18, 1891

Your sister, Kittie B. R.