One branch of my family has a thick, raggedy leatherbound Bible dating back to the 1830s. It’s a King James version with Old and New testaments like most Bibles, but it’s the handwritten begats listing a succession of Pomeroys that fascinate me.
The earliest entry records the birth of a young Thomas Sandford Pomeroy, born August 9, 1837, in Chillicothe, Ohio — “about the time the chickens rise,” which, according to the inscription, “was the earliest rising he was ever known to do.” His portrait still hangs in my dining room, and I can attest to having coffee with him most mornings — well after the chickens rise.
Family Bible – Deaths
On the column opposite his birth announcement are the names of his four sons, born to Thomas and Mary Case Pomeroy: Charles Lincoln, Thomas Sandford (Fordie), Julian Augustus (Gussie) and William Herbert (Bertie). Just one page later, their deaths are recorded. Fordie, Gussie and Bertie all died within a year of each other — each under 8-years-old — in 1870. The cause isn’t listed, but a quick search points to a cholera outbreak around that time. Charles, the eldest, died at 30 in a shipwreck in the Gulf of Mexico.
I can’t fathom the heartbreak of losing all four children, but that kind of tragedy wasn’t uncommon in that era. With Charles gone, that branch of the Pomeroy line ended as a surname. My great-grandmother, born in 1874, carried the legacy forward under her married name, Graves.
It’s a powerful thing to hold that old, weathered Bible — connecting my siblings, cousins and me directly to our 19th-century kin. I recognize my mother’s handwriting in the later pages, where she recorded her and her brother’s births. That’s where the trail ends, but I happen to know the rest of the story. Someday, if we’re feeling bold, we might add our own names and those of our children, nieces and nephews — but with today’s digital genealogical tools, it no longer feels quite as necessary.
Long before the government began keeping official records of births, marriages and deaths, families often preserved this vital information in their Bibles. The McClung Historical Collection now houses over 100 such Bibles, each a unique thread in the fabric of local and national history. Archivists are working to photograph the family entries and make them accessible online. If you are interested in having an older family Bible photographed, please contact Eric Dawson at edawson@knoxlib.org. Please note, we will not be able to photograph every family Bible.
You can also explore the current Family Bible collection in the McClung Digital Collection, which includes the Bibles of some of Knoxville’s founding families.
Mary Pom Claiborne is assistant director for marketing, communications and development for Knox County Public Library.
