For those reading my new book, Finding Big Lick, one of the chapters concerns Elvis Presley’s ancestral family, their migration south, and their relevance to the place I seek to understand. Several years of intensive study culminated recently in publication, but for now, the topic of a monthly meeting of the Stanly County Historical Society has greatly hastened my discoveries.

This summer, J.D. Burleson and Debbie Noah gave a talk about the Harward family group’s trip to Virginia to restore an ancient cemetery.  The stone wall around the burial site was cut, and a new entrance, including a wrought-iron gate, was provided. What a road trip and fabulous adventure the group must have had.

An aside, a conversation at the Gen Society meeting focused on the community north of Canton Road, where the Burleson and Harward families are deeply rooted. Afterward, J.D. Burleson graciously led me to the place, and I was able to lay eyes on the Burleson Cemetery and a marker for the historic Cassell Meeting House—a critical first step in getting to know the place and its family history. We discussed earlier efforts by John Hoyle Burleson to locate Burleson family lands based on mapping studies and his placement of the old Cassell Meeting House cemetery.  I remember John H. from online discussions in the early 2000s. Those were good days, and I am glad now to be working to honor and build upon his efforts. This was a beautiful fall day in rural Stanly County, and all along I kept thinking that this really could be it; the abundance of springs and streams in the area made me feel that the Canton and Little Bear Creek areas might turn out to be the focus of my search – something hinted at in my book. However, I had not discussed any possibilities with others. That conversation begins now.

Many places in the early 1800s took the name Canton. There was Canton, Ohio, which was named in honor of an early silk trader.  And even in the mountains of North Carolina, the place we call Canton was named after Canton, Ohio. The steel used to build the first iron bridge across the Pigeon River came from Canton, Ohio.  Furthermore, the word Canton originated in Guangzhou, China, and was later Romanized as Canton. Located on the Pearl River, this place has been recognized as the eastern terminus of the Silk Road for over two thousand years. There are other meanings of the word Canton, as found in Switzerland and France, to denote geographical regions; this use derives from the Latin form, “canto,” meaning corner or angle. One might expect the naming of the community in Stanly County to be similarly rooted. Still, driving through the fertile fields of waving grain, the traveler is welcomed by a wealth of streams and springheads. A quality one cannot overlook, and nothing new; area folks realize their good fortune and have acknowledged the blessings for a long time.

As early as 1850, George Whitley sold to Richard Harris 52 acres “no. of the Canton.”  The small and seemingly otherwise insignificant tract of land joined the “Vinyard tract” and properties owned by Martin Almond, Sallie Almond, Daniel Moose, and Joshua Hearne. I am actively in motion, working to physically locate what I believe is an essential puzzle piece of property. Still, for the moment, the property survey and its metes and bounds do not close, indicating a serious error that needs to be resolved. I think that will happen sooner rather than later, but I wanted to get this story out to you.

The land in question was later sold to William Eudy before George C. and James R. Mendenhall of Guilford County sold a nearby or adjoining tract to Martin Almond in 1880. Note that William’s daughter, Keziah [Kizzie], married George Whitley, who, together, lie at rest along Little Bear Creek in the Keziah Whitley burial ground. Mentioning landmarks and abutments, likely from earlier and lost iterations of conveyances, the property is located west of Little Bear Creek and is recorded as crossing “Canton Road,’ east of the “Canton School–House tract.” I can imagine the surveyor writing the following, that the first property line began at a “small black gum one pole north of the Canton Spring.”  By the way, a pole is a measuring stick that equals 16 ½ feet, and four poles equal the length of a chain. Wowser, and as further written, the survey actually passed “through the “fountain head of said spring,” and crossed north of Canton Branch.  Also named in this conveyance are adjoining landowners William Burroughs, Elisha Honeycutt, Jr, and Larkin Almond.

There happened to be other nearby springs, including the “fountain head” of Muscle Springs. The term fountain head denotes a fountain or spring from which a stream flows; the head or source of a stream; the chief source of anything. Can you imagine?  Was the use of “fountain head” a marketing ploy, or were residents sincerely proud of their spring? Historically, were such water sources truly exceptional?  Many springs are mentioned in the annals of Stanly County, with but a few rising to be labeled fountains. Today, remembered as an important landmark, one such spring in Fayetteville is preserved in a local city park. I’d love to walk the land and see Stanly County’s Canton Spring.

But back to the book, last week, after pushing the button to publish online, I immediately turned my attention to Canton Road and the conversation from the recent genealogical society meeting. My heart and personal interest lie in southwest Stanly County, but I want folks to know that my wild idea to map the county is for real.  No better place to move beyond my own interests than to take in a study of Burleson and other family lands along Canton Road. What a place to study! I welcome your ideas, which provide reason to study other such places.  But, in time.

My book is published, and incredibly, after much digging and before the proverbial crow called out to welcome the dawning day, much midnight oil had been burned, and pieces of understanding found their way to me through a late-night work session.  Oh, and then there is the King, Elvis I mean. This tidbit does not represent his direct lineage, but I love finding ties that bind my beginnings to famous people. Like dropping names in a public gathering, doing so somehow gives me a lift from my ancestral beginnings, often rooted in red clay, as expressed by my elders, who, they say, experienced the place while plowing fields from the south end of a north-bound mule.

As shown to the right, and nearly 100 years after Andrew Presley received a patent for 100 acres, Isaac Burleson sold Howell Burleson the adjoining land to the south. The two were neighbors, though maybe living in ever-so-slightly different times. This land lies indeed near the Canton Spring, and Andrew Presley certainly had reason to call it out as he did.  Hint: even from the 1700s acquisition by Andrew Presly, the place name confused my understanding of a nearby, more historically significant spring.

I am now growing a healthy pile, actually piles, of land grant surveys and platted conveyance surveys from which to reconstruct the area’s early history. Surnames for the land I’ve platted in the neighborhood thus far include: Burleson, Stokes, Almond, Eudy, Hatley, Hearne, Whitley, Mann, Presley, Vanhoy, Bowers, Mason, Gatewood, Mann Harward, Harris, Hathcock, Marshall, Herlocker, Smith, Roper, and others.

The joining of land plats is an extremely valuable tool for understanding business and even family relations; however, much more can be gleaned if I were only able to take the next step and overlay the hand-drawn properties onto a modern-day map. For now, I am dealing with matters of relating land through time, the concerns of missing records, and the alteration of boundary lines caused by life and the need of generations to move forward. I hope to address the area soon in a more compelling way and think that will happen, but doing so will take time to accomplish, possibly by the end of January. So please do stay in touch!