Family stories

I tell people I’ve wanted to restore Hayslope for a really really long time, and it’s true. I don’t remember ever not being fascinated by the house and its history, and I would tell whoever would listen that I wanted it to take its rightful place in Russellville’s story, beyond a Tennessee Historical Commission sign on the highway that pointed in the wrong direction.

I can’t say how many people really listened as I’d tell the story. My parents didn’t have much choice, so they got an earful. I think they pretty much just humored me when I was a wee tyke, but they did make sure that in between tenants, I got to go over and go inside. That’s how I knew about Uncle Escoe’s cedar room and that one closet in the front where I could see James Roddye’s logs – pristine, like they’d never been touched by rain or snow.

They probably didn’t, come to think of it. Those logs are high up on the front side of the house, just under Roddye’s original roof line and just above the front porch. They were well protected, and fairly quickly covered over when the roofline changed to include the porch.

That was the only place to see the logs. The house had long been sided, with a variety of sidings over the years. Walnut, cedar shakes, and plain old whiteboard on the outside, and chestnut and wallpaper on the inside.

Heck, we didn’t even know the north side, what we call the annex, wasn’t log until we started taking all that siding and wall cover off. Surprise! Stick frame! Hand sawed stick frame.

We believe the colonel built the annex right around 1800 – that’s the date on the brick we found under the stairs. The stairs didn’t come right away, though. The original cabin, one room with a loft and a ladder to reach it, became two rooms with a loft and ladder. A door was cut dead center on the north wall to access the new room.

Later – and we don’t know when just yet – the stairs were put in and that door was covered over. A new door was cut back on the northwest corner, the roof was raised, and the upstairs loft became two full rooms.

That’s the house we know today, except for Uncle Escoe’s addition of a kitchen and bathoom (and cedar room) on the back, which took over where the old two-story back porch stood.

In between was the Rogans’ dining room – a large room off the northwest side of the annex. We have one for sure picture of the outside. Uncle Escoe, we believe, cut that room off and made part of it into his addition.

Anyway, I talked a lot about the house when I was growing up. And after I grew up and would come back to visit. The house needed to be restored, I pleaded. Dad wouldn’t budge though. Mom started telling me the logs weren’t even there anymore, that they’d all been eaten by termites.

“You can’t know that,” I’d tell her. And hoped it wasn’t true, becasue to be honest, I couldn’t know either.

And finally, Hayslope is mine. I wasn’t sure for a while that I’d ever even start on this project, because I’d gotten kinda old over the years myself. I did though. And when we took those chestnuts off the inside walls, we found that Roddye’s logs weren’t eaten up by termites after all. There’s some damage, mostly water damage, on the logs, and a bit of termite damage, most of it in the cellar.

But the colonel’s logs are right there, thick and darkened with age.

The Roddyes were gone from the old house by 1830. They went to Rhea County, to Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, Georgia, and other places – including Whitesburg, just down the road here in East Tennessee, and where James Roddye’s original lands were, along Bent Creek. Whitesburg is where the children of James’s son Thomas lived, where his wife Lydia Nenney Roddye returned after her husband disappeared in Georgia.

And it’s where some of them remained. There are relatives of this line living in Whitesburg still, and then some who headed farther than any Roddye had ever gone, at least since James Roddye’s grandfather came across the Atlantic from Ulster.

Thomas Roddye’s family

Patrick Nenney Roddy was Thomas and Lydia’s oldest son, and the only one born in Tennessee, before the family lost Hayslope and moved to Georgia. He and his brothers and sisters came back up to old Jefferson County with their mother, around about 1837, when Thomas disappeared.

The family lived with the Nenneys for a time – Lydia was the daughter of Patrick Nenney and the sister of Catherine Nenney Graham and Charles P. Nenney. I imagine Patrick, at 11 or 12, might have seen himself as the man of the house in the absence of his father.

I’ve seen mention of an older sister born in Tennessee – the name Maranda has popped up, but she must have died young. A possible younger sister may also have been born before the family headed to Georgia. The name Lydia shows in some records but again, the child appears to have died young. The others – Thomas, Mary, James, and Elizabeth – were all born in Georgia, in the area of Villa Rica and Carrollton.

When the elder Thomas vanished, though, Lydia and her children began the trek back to Jefferson County, after first making a stop in Rhea County, where several of her in-laws lived. She lived with the Nenneys for a time back in Whitesburg but appears to have had her own place for most of the rest of her life, with her school teacher daughter Elizabeth living with her. Not much is known about her life, but a look at the purchases she made at her family’s store gives the impression she may have taken on sewing for an income.

Of her children, only Mary’s family, and some of Patrick’s, remain in the Whitesburg area. Mary married James Day, and she was a bridesmaid at the wedding of Theo Rogan and Louisa Graham in 1853, before they moved to Hayslope in about 1862. Thomas remained in Whitesburg, but his children scattered. James moved away. Elizabeth stayed but never married.

Patrick, or P.N. Roddy as he was often known, became a lawyer, a justice of the peace, and an elected magistrate. He married Mary Ellen Stacks in 1866, and they had three children – Mary Ellen, James Patrick, and George Edward.

Mary Ellen, known as Dovie, married her neighbor, Jacob Haun, and stayed in Whitesburg, Her descendants still live in the area. James Patrick moved to Knoxville, started a bottling company and brought Coca Cola to East Tennessee, and George Edward headed West.

A grocer by trade, he lived in Texas and for years in New Mexico, spending the final years of his life in California. He married Maggie May Reed in Texas, and their son Daniel was born a couple years later in Roswell, New Mexico. George also served as justice of the peace in Albuquerque for several years.

George Edward Roddy

The photos of P.N., Mary Ellen, and George come from George’s granddaughter, who contacted me through this website, totally making my day when she did! She also sent me a photo of George in his later years and another of her father, Daniel, posing by the Hayslope sign on 11E.

Back to the present

If you’ve driven past the house recently, you may have noticed a change – we have a fence and real gates now! The gorgeous split rail fence was built by Brown’s Custom Fencing and Construction in Bulls Gap, and I couldn’t be happier. They even custom-built the wooden gates.

Inside the house, things are moving apace. Thomas is sourcing some logs to replace badly damaged ones – there aren’t too many, but the one there are pose a problem structurally until they’re replaced. Same goes for some floor beams in the cellar. Meanwhile, he’s got it nicely shored up and ready for the new wood to go in.

Most of the addition on the back is gone now, so we’re working on determining how to rebuild the old two story porch while also adding modern bathrooms. The plan so far will keep the plumbing outside both the original cabin and the north annex, just like Uncle Escoe did.

Then there’s the question of the door between the original cabin and the annex – it’s dead center on that wall, hidden behind the stairs until we uncovered it. I really want to use that door between the two downstairs rooms, but when that door was in use, a ladder led upstairs. It was covered when the stairs were built for obvious reasons, and it’s just not clear at this point how we can use the original door and keep the stairs!

So that’s the update for now. I’ll be making a very quick trip up next week to deal with some computer issues.

The death of James Roddye

A friend of Hayslope recently sent me a photograph of the house taken in its glory – probably after the restoration in 1937 by Escoe Thomason. The house is simply beautiful, surrounded by shrubbery and trees (and chickens!). I’m working to learn when that photo was taken, but I’m also drawn to its source: A family history written in 1965 by Irene Reid Morris called “Thru the Years: Family Records of Ila Venable Brown & Other Families of St Helena Parish Louisiana.”

Ila Venable Brown had connections with the Roddyes both directly and through the Leas, two of whom married Roddye daughters, who moved with them and considerable other members of the Lea family to Mississippi. One Roddye, James Jr, moved to St Helena Parish, and Brown, in 1965, “owns a camp in St Helena Parish which is the original home in Louisiana of the Roddys.”

Hayslope looking quite beautiful. The 1774 date in the caption is incorrect.

She also supposed had a photograph of the spring at Hayslope and describes a large-ish building that was used to store the property’s alcoholic spirits.

The book also offers a little more information about our man James’s brother William, via a letter written by a descendant of James to a descendant of William, saying that brother William got a land grant in what’s now Blount County.

The book does contain some of the “facts” we’ve since learned aren’t so factual, and it’s also offered many a clue to my own research.

While I still don’t know what happened to son Thomas Roddye, who inherited that land that would become known as Hayslope, there are two letters included in this book, written by Thomas, that offers a few glimpses into the family, including his father’s death.

In a letter in April 1822 to his brother in law James Lea in Mississippi, Thomas writes that he’s been traveling for “two months through the Southern State” and is about to go there again.

In this letter, we learn that Rachel Roddye Majors’ husband “has still pursued the same evil course of conduct until he has brought his family to poverty and disgrace.” This letter appears to indicate that Rachel is still living and did not die in 1812, as we previously believed.

As for the patriarch James, Thomas writes:

“I am desired by my father to tell you that it gives hi great pain that his infirmities will not permit him to comply with your affectionate wishes. It is altogether out of his power to write at all and has been for some length of time; he is unable to shave himself or attend to any kind of business.”

Thomas closes the letter by declining some business opportunities James Lea apparently mentioned to him in Mississippi, saying, ” I cannot for a moment think of neglecting my aged parents in their declining years. Therefore, at lest for some length of time to come I may assure myself that I am permanently located in Tennessee.”

In January 1823, Thomas wrote again to James Lea, acknowledging the death of his sister Elizabeth, who was James’s wife. And then he writes:

“It now falls to my lot to give you the painful intelligence of the death of my Father, who died on the (?) day of October during my absence to South Carolina. After an illness of about ten or twelve days he sank quietly to rest without a struggle. I must leave the subject to yourself without any comments as your own feelings will at once give you a lively picture of ours on this melancholy occasion.”

Thomas says he’s going to send a letter to his brother James about their father’s death and tells James Lea how the Lea family figures into Roddye Sr’s will. Then he asks James Lea to “come to Tenn. next spring and spend the summer with us.”

Thomas says he’d received a letter from his brother John, that’s he’s heading to Baltimore the next day, and that “Mother desires to be affectionately remembered to you and the family.”

As we know, Lydia Roddye soon left her son Thomas in Russellville and went to live with family in Rhea County, where she lived until her death just a few short years later. Thomas and his family – wife Lydia Nenny and son Patrick Nenny Roddye – remained at the old homeplace. Whether Thomas left the homeplace immediate upon selling it to cover his debt to the Nenny’s in 1829 isn’t known. After 1830, Thomas and Lydia had four more children – Thomas, Mary, James, and Elizabeth – and then he vanishes from the record in about 1844.

But wait, there’s more

One other letter is included in the book – from Luke Lea Jr to his brother James, who tells us Colonel Roddye had travelled to “upper Louisiana” and returned in “good health”:

“I am told he likes the country exceedingly well and intends moving there as soon as he can dispose of his property in this county, which I am informed he is now doing. I have not been able to learn whether John intends going with him or not.”

At first I thought this was our man James, but I’m not so sure. Luke Lea’s letter was written from Knoxville, and as far as I know, James didn’t have property there. Luke further says that this Colonel Roddye intends to run for senator “in the district in which he lives.” I’m wondering now if this was William Roddye, James’s brother, who was also called dubbed “colonel” and who had moved much closer to Knoxville early on, when he got that land grant in Blount County. There do appear to be William Roddye descendants further west …

Did not see that coming

So there I am, writing up the story of how East Tennessee, before it was East Tennessee, tried repeatedly to be its own place, and making sure I tie our man James Roddye, the builder of Hayslope before it was Hayslope, into the story, when I come across some some documents connected to said Roddye and sold at auction a few years ago.

Now, I’ve seen these documents before. There’s three of them: One is a land survey, 210 acres, conducted for Roddye in 1810. Another is a 1797 document allowing William Deaderick to use some of his land for a mill race on Fall Creek. And the third is an “indenture” between Thomas Roddy and John Donaldson.

I never read the Thomas Roddy document, but yesterday I did. And it’s way more than an “indenture.” If I’m reading it correctly, it’s the document that conveys the future Hayslope property to Hugh Graham (and his mother-in-law, Lucy Nenney) in 1829, which means that Graham had the property long before he gave it to his daughter and Theo Rogan. And it also means that Graham did, indeed, get it from James Roddye’s son Thomas and not Thomas’s son Thomas. Graham and Lucy Nenney are also in-laws of James’ son Thomas, who married Lydia Nenney, another of Patrick and Lucy’s daughters, in 1824.

And how did that come about? As I read this document, Thomas Roddye was in debt to Patrick Nenney – Hugh Graham’s father-in-law – to the tune of $2,120 when Thomas executed a deed of trust to John Donaldson securing that debt, Patrick Nenney having died in 1824 and Graham and Patrick’s widow now holding Patrick’s estate.

According to the indenture, if Thomas were to default on this debt, Donaldson was to sell the property “at the court house in Dandridge” and pay Graham and Lucy Nenney out of the proceeds. But apparently, Roddy, Graham, and Nenney came up with a better idea a few years later. Graham and Nenney would buy the property from Roddy for $2,500 ($75,000 in 2021 using the consumer price index, although it’s buying power would be about $65 million) “being the whole of said debt, interest, and charges” and release young Thomas from further claims.

The document includes a description of the boundaries of “four hundred and sixty-five acres more or less” on Fall Creek, bordering the Cheek and Witt properties and “the road leading from Russellville to Cheeks x roads.”

The document was witnessed by Needham Jarnigan and William V. Roddy – presumably Thomas’s brother, who had inherited the property from their father along with Thomas when James died in 1822 – and recorded in the registry in Jefferson County. And now I have the specific book and page number to look for.

Needless to say, I’m gobsmacked.