Category Archives: Tennessee History

Marble Springs in the news

The Knoxville News Sentinel did a story on some of our fundraising and programming efforts a few days ago.  Check it out:

Tucked away just down a gravel driveway from a busy highway lies a piece of history that some Knoxville residents don’t even know exists.

Marble Springs State Historic Site, located at 1220 W. Gov. John Sevier Highway, was the home of John Sevier, the first governor of Tennessee, from 1796 until his death in 1815.

The 35-acre property includes five historic structures, an arboretum and hiking trails and is open year-round for tours as well as special events such as a weekly Farmers’ Market, living history events, and workshops on everything from knitting to stargazing.

The site also can be rented for events such as birthdays, reunions and weddings, and yet visibility is still a challenge, according to Anna Chappelle, executive director.

“I don’t think they realize we’re here,” says Chappelle, a fourth generation Knoxvillian who is Marble Springs’ only full-time employee. “As a result, we’ve created this diverse programming to reach the community and to make an impact on the local economy.”

But you don’t have to be a history buff, a Scout or a student to enjoy Marble Springs’ third annual Sevier Soiree, which will be held 6:30-8:30 p.m. Saturday, Sept. 19.

The event will include a catered dinner, live music and silent auction to raise funds for the Gov. John Sevier Memorial Association, the nonprofit that operates and maintains Marble Springs.

“Many people assume, because Marble Springs is a state historic site, that it is fully funded by the state,” Chappelle explains. “We get a stipend from the state that covers about 50 percent of our expenses.”

For $50 per ticket, event attendees can walk among Marble Springs’ historic structures as the sun is setting, enjoying open-hearth-cooked hors d’oeuvres served by re-enactors in period costume and listening to live music by local Americana band Guy Marshall.

The silent auction will feature items such as tickets to area attractions, from Dollywood and Wilderness of the Smokies to the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra. The biggest draw, the one that causes “a bidding war,” Chappelle says, is a signed and framed photograph of Marble Springs’ own Sevier Cabin by photographer Michael Byerley.

Dinner, catered by Bradford Events, is a Southern-inspired meal this year, with fried chicken, cheese grits, squash casserole and sweet potato casserole, among others, served in the pavilion.

If you’d like to come out for the soirée, you can order tickets by clicking here.  Deadline for reservations is Sept. 14.  It’s gonna be a blast!

And don’t forget about our living history event the weekend of Sept. 19th.  You can rent the site for your wedding or family reunion, too.

By Brian Stansberry (Own work) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC BY 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

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Filed under Appalachian History, Museums and Historic Sites, Tennessee History

A visit with the Ramseys

Francis Alexander Ramsey was a Pennsylvania native who arrived in Tennessee around the end of the Revolutionary War, got involved in the Franklin movement, served as clerk of the Southwest Territory, and was a founding trustee of what eventually became the University of Tennessee.  About the same time that Tennessee became a state, he hired an English carpenter named Thomas Hope to build a fine home of pink marble and blue limestone at Swan Pond, his plantation near Knoxville at the confluence of the Holston and French Broad Rivers.  The house is still there, and a few days ago I decided it was high time I saw it in person.

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Ramsey House is one of the most beautifully constructed and restored of all the historic house museums I’ve visited.  Once referred to as “the most costly and most admired building in Tennessee,” it would have been quite a bit more substantial than most of the other homes on the frontier near the turn of the nineteenth century.  The quality of Hope’s craftsmanship is evident in the limestone trim and the carved corbels underneath the roof corners.

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Cabins and small homes on the early Tennessee frontier typically had kitchens that were either detached from the main house or linked to it by a covered dogtrot.  Ramsey House’s kitchen, by contrast, is attached to the main structure.  The tour guide told me this was at the insistence of Francis Ramsey’s wife.

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The interior is just as impressive as the exterior, furnished with period pieces that include some Ramsey family items, like the Chippendale chairs and tea service in one of the downstairs rooms.

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When Francis died in 1820, the house passed to his oldest son William, Knoxville’s first elected mayor.  William later sold the home to his brother, the eminent doctor, historian, and public works booster J.G.M. Ramsey, who in turn gave it to his son as a wedding present in 1857 and moved a short distance away to his own estate of Mecklenburg.

The house’s link to J.G.M. Ramsey was one of the main reasons I wanted to see it, since every aficionado of early Tennessee history is bound to cross paths with him sooner or later.  Although his contributions to the state’s transportation development and finance were considerable, Ramsey’s role as chronicler of Tennessee’s past was probably his most important legacy.  Some of the most prominent players in Tennessee’s formative years were guests at Ramsey House when J.G.M. was growing up, and he developed a passionate interest in the Volunteer State’s history, reflected in his massive collection of manuscripts and books.  The crowning achievement of this historical work was his massive Annals of Tennessee to the End of the Eighteenth Century, published in 1853 and still an invaluable resource for students of the early southwestern frontier.

Above all else, he was a committed believer in states’ rights and a defender of southern interests, serving as a Confederate treasury agent on the outbreak of the Civil War.  His zealous support for secession ended up taking a tremendous toll on his family.  The Union occupation of Knoxville in 1863 forced him to flee Mecklenburg, his daughter was exiled from the city, and his youngest son Arthur was one of the many Tennessee troops killed in action at Piedmont, VA in June 1864.

One wartime loss was as devastating for later Tennessee historians as it must have been to Ramsey personally—a Union arsonist put Mecklenburg to the torch, and its priceless collection of historical papers and relics went up in smoke.  Ramsey himself blamed his nemesis William Brownlow, an outspoken Unionist with whom he had been at odds since before the war, for instigating the arson.  One of the reasons Ramsey’s Annals is such an important resource is because much of the primary material that went into the work went up in flames along with his home.  (Speaking as somebody who could’ve made use of those documents, I can tell you that if I find the arsonist in the afterlife, there’s going to be trouble.)

After the war, Ramsey was able to get a presidential pardon from Andrew Johnson.  The family eventually returned to Knoxville, but J.G.M.’s son sold the ancestral home in 1866.  The Association for the Preservation of Tennessee Antiquities acquired it in 1952 and furnished it to match the period of Francis Ramsey’s occupancy, using items donated by descendants and an inventory of the patriarch’s estate.

In addition to the house, the site has a small visitor center with a gift shop, an exhibit of family relics and archaeological materials excavated on the grounds, and a short film.  I definitely recommend a visit if you’re in the Knoxville area; it’s an architectural gem and a fascinating glimpse into the lives of one of Tennessee’s most important families.

You might also want to visit the site of Lebanon-in-the-Fork Presbyterian Church, just a couple of miles from Ramsey House.  Rev. Samuel Carrick established Lebanon-in-the-Fork in 1791, making it the oldest Presbyterian church in Knox County.  The church building is gone, but the graveyard is well worth a look.  The grave of Carrick’s widow is Knox County’s earliest marked burial, dating to 1793.

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Several generations of Ramseys are also buried here: Francis…

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J.G.M….

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…and young Arthur.

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Also in the Ramsey plot is a memorial for Reynolds Ramsey, father of Francis and a veteran of the Revolutionary War who was at Trenton and Princeton.  J.G.M. remembered his grandfather as a “tall and graceful” man who “never entered a room with his hat on and never retired from it without a graceful bow and a modest and sincere adieu.”  I suspect it was J.G.M. himself, with his interest in history, who made sure his grandfather’s tombstone mentioned his Rev War service.

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Reynolds isn’t the only Rev War veteran buried at Lebanon-in-the-Forks.

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Jeremiah Jack, another Rev War vet buried in the churchyard, was one of Knoxville’s early settlers.  Ramsey’s Annals includes a brief account of a canoe trip Jack and another man made to Coyatee to purchase corn from the Cherokees:

During the infancy of the settlements on Nollichucky, corn had become scarce, and availing themselves of a short suspension of hostilities, Jeremiah Jack and William Rankin, of Greene county, descended the river in a canoe, for the purpose of bartering with the Indians for corn. They reached Coiatee without interruption. The warriors of that place refused to exchange or sell the corn, and manifested other signs of suspicion, if not of open enmity. They entered the canoe and lifted up some wearing apparel lying in it, and which covered their rifles. This discovery increased the unwillingness of the Indians to trade, and they began to show a disposition to offer violence to their white visitants. The beloved woman, Nancy Ward, was happily present, and was able by her commanding influence to appease their wrath, and to bring about friendly feelings between the parties. The little Indians were soon clad in the home made vestments brought by the traders—the canoe was filled with corn, and the white men started on their return voyage well pleased with the exchange they had made, and especially with the kind offices of the beloved woman. On their return, the white men landed and camped one night, a mile above the mouth of French Broad, on the north bank of the little sluice of that river. Mr. Jack was so well pleased with the place, that he afterwards selected it as his future residence, and actually settled and improved it on his emigration to the present Knox county, in 1787.

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Filed under American Revolution, Appalachian History, Civil War, Museums and Historic Sites, Tennessee History

Appalachia and the atom bomb

Today we mark a noteworthy anniversary in the history of the world—and in the history of Appalachia, although I don’t think we really associate the two as we should.

Lots of people know that the enriched uranium in “Little Boy,” the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima seventy years ago, came from the Y-12 plant at Oak Ridge here in East Tennessee.  At the very least, they know that Oak Ridge was involved somehow in the Manhattan Project.  But while plenty of people know of East Tennessee’s connection to the atomic bombing, I suspect they don’t really “get” it.  “Appalachia” connotes backwardness; people think of the mountains as a place of log cabins and hardscrabble farms, not the advent of the atomic age.

Even here in East Tennessee, it seems to me that we tend to see Oak Ridge’s wartime experience as somehow set apart from the rest of our history, as a kind of singular, brief moment in time when we suddenly became relevant before slipping back out of the mainstream.  Because we’ve let ourselves be convinced of our isolation and exceptionalism, we don’t really “own” this instance that proves how wrong those notions of isolation and exceptionalism are.  But Oak Ridge’s history, and thus the history of the atomic bomb and the world it made and unmade, is a part of Appalachian history.

Part of the job of Appalachian historians, I think, is to figure out how to integrate these aspects of the region’s past that don’t fit people’s expectations into a more comprehensive narrative.  Maybe this would help erode some of the simplistic stereotypes that continue to define popular notions of what the region is, and what it isn’t.  East Tennessee’s role in the creation of the atomic bomb might be a good entry point for this sort of thing, but that won’t happen as long as we see it as some singular development in the region’s history that has little to do with the rest of it.

With that out of the way, here are some links in recognition of what happened seventy years ago today.

Shift change at Y-12 in 1945. Department of Energy via Wikimedia Commons

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American writers on the road in Appalachia

Atlas Obscura has a really neat feature up that’s well worth your perusal.  It’s an interactive map of famous American literary road trips from the late 1800s to today.  The map traces the journeys of twelve author-travelers across the U.S., with pinpoints for the locations identified in their books.  Click on a point, and you’ll get the writer’s description of that place.

I decided to see what these folks had to say about my own neck of the woods.  William Least Heat-Moon, author of Blue Highways, almost spent the night in my hometown on his way east from Oak Ridge:

I should have stopped at Tazewell before the light went entirely, but no. It was as if the mountains had me.

On his way to Clinch Mountain he would’ve driven right past the Frostee Freeze, a venerable drive-in that’s been serving burgers and milkshakes for almost sixty years.

Least Heat-Moon’s description of Morristown sounds less like the town I know and more like the setting for Dickens’s Hard Times:

Across the Holston River, wide and black as the Styx, and into the besooted factory city of Morristown, where, they say, the smoke runs up to the sky.

He took in some regional history while visiting Tennessee’s oldest town:

The fourteenth state in the Union, the first formed after the original thirteen, was Franklin and its capital Jonesboro. The state had a governor, legislature, courts, and militia. In 1784, after North Carolina ceded to the federal government its land in the west, thereby leaving the area without an administrative body, citizens held a constitutional convention to form a sovereign state. But history is a fickle thing, and now Jonesboro, two centuries old, is only the seat of Washington County, which also was once something else—the entire state of Tennessee. It’s all for the best. Chattanooga, Franklin, just doesn’t come off the tongue right.

And speaking of eighteenth-century history, Blue Highways also has an account of Least Heat-Moon’s tour of Ninety Six, site of a Rev War siege in the South Carolina backcountry.  No passages from that visit on the Atlas Obscura map, though.

Peter Jenkins on the Volunteer State and those of us who live here:

We were grateful to be in green, clean Tennessee. A lot of the natives were shaped just like their state, long and lean.

Thanks, I guess?

Bill Bryson, of whom I’ve never been a big fan, on southwestern Virginia:

I drove through a landscape of gumdrop hills, rolling roads, neat farms. The sky was full of those big fluffy clouds you always see in nautical paintings, adn [sic] the towns had curious and interesting names: Snowflake, Fancy Gap, Horse Pasture, Meadows of Dan, Charity. Virginia went on and on. It never seemed to end.

John Steinbeck and his dog passed through Abingdon, where William Campbell’s Virginians mustered before heading to Sycamore Shoals and the march that led to King’s Mountain.  By that point, Steinbeck was evidently ready to get home:

My own journey started long before I left, and was over before I returned. I know exactly where and when it was over. Near Abingdon, in the dog-leg of Virginia , at four o’clock of a windy afternoon, without warning or good-by or kiss my foot, my journey went away and left me stranded far from home. I tried to call it back, to catch it up—a foolish and hopeless matter, because it was definitely and permanently over and finished.

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In Civil War ordnance news…

…things are still turning up and going kablooie, even in the Pacific Northwest:

On April 22, members of the U.S. Army’s 707th Explosive Ordinance Disposal Company left their base on a mission to detonate a very unusual object.

Construction crews had discovered an Absterdam Type 2/3 Projectile in Ilwaco, Washington. This type of explosive artillery shell dates to around the time of the American Civil War.

The round sat undisturbed until being discovered more than a century-and-half later. It may sound strange, but this happens more often than you might think.

Capt. Shawn McMickle, the soldiers’ company commander, said that he’s responded to three Civil War-era explosives since he’s served with the Army in the Pacific Northwest.

The same thing happened at LMU when I was an undergrad.  Some guys were digging a water line and unearthed something like fifteen Civil War-era shells near an old dorm building.  To make a long story short, an EOD team came down from Ft. Campbell, dug up the whole cache, took them behind the basketball arena, and a massive BANG! ensued.

Oddly enough, the shells turned up right across from the museum.  The campus is practically within sight of Cumberland Gap, which changed hands four times during the war, so I suppose we shouldn’t have been too surprised.  But it was still a shock to find live shells buried just a stone’s throw from our galleries, with their Civil War weapons sitting dormant and harmless in glass cases.  One look at the EOD guys’ gear reminded you what we too often forget: those objects were meant to wreak havoc on human bodies.

Speaking of buried Civil War artifacts, two guys just got a hefty fine and two years of supervised release for pilfering a Hotchkiss shell in southeastern Tennessee.  Let this be a reminder to all you knuckleheads to let sleeping ordnance lie.

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Two easy things you can do right now to support Tennessee history

Okay, here are two quick things I’d like everybody reading this blog to do.

First, as you may recall, we’re doing a special fundraising drive on behalf of Marble Springs State Historic Site this year in commemoration of the bicentennial of Gov. John Sevier’s death.  We’ve just set up a new, super-easy way to contribute to this campaign at GoFundMe, so if you haven’t made a donation yet, please take a minute to do so.

Of course, you can still contribute via PayPal at the Marble Springs website or by sending a check in the mail.  If you can’t afford $200, feel free to contribute whatever you can.  We’ll gladly accept donations of any size.  When it comes to small historic sites, every contribution makes a big difference.

It’s a tough economic climate for smaller historic sites and museums, and some of the funding sources we regularly depend on are shrinking, so I strongly encourage everybody who loves Tennessee history, the American Revolution, and preservation to pitch in.

Second, there’s a historic home here in Knoxville in danger of being lost to development.  You can show your opposition to demolishing this historic property by adding your signature to the petition at Change.org.

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Filed under Appalachian History, Historic Preservation, Museums and Historic Sites, Tennessee History

Twenty houses and ten observations

To be honest with you, I’m just burned out on this Civil War Sesquicentennial thing, so let’s set aside the obligatory Appomattox post, unwind a little, and take a look at this listicle of twenty historic houses to visit in Tennessee.  Here are my observations, for whatever they’re worth:

  1. The Carter Mansion is right there near the top.  Well done.  (I’m quite fond of the Carter Mansion, you know.)
  2. Blount Mansion made the list.  Good.
  3. No Marble Springs on the list.  Home of Tennessee’s first governor.  Put it on the list, already.
  4. Tipton-Haynes made the list, and it has a Sevier association.  This mitigates some of my vexation over the omission of Marble Springs.  Not all of it, but a little.  Actually, Sevier would probably be totally miffed to see Tipton’s home and Jackson’s home on the list when his own home is omitted.
  5. More eighteenth-century homes on the list than I expected, which is nice.
  6. No Andrew Johnson home on the list.  Homes of two other Tennessee presidents listed, but no Johnson.  What gives?
  7. Not one, not two, but three houses associated with the Battle of Franklin on the list.  That’s more than the number of John Bell Hood’s functional limbs.  Pick either the Carter House or Carnton, for crying out loud.
  8. Technically, I suppose Graceland is a historic home, but I think we all know it’s not a real historic home, right?  Judging by the supermarket tabloids, we can’t even be sure the guy who lived there is dead.
  9. The Lincoln quote at the top of the site is a worthy sentiment, but I doubt he actually said it.
  10. You know what could’ve replaced one of those Battle of Franklin houses?  Sgt. York’s home.  That would’ve been cool.

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