MACKENZIE'S JOURNAL VI

Husband and Wife

The day before the wedding ceremonies was spent in final preparation. The manor gleamed with fresh polish and the seamstresses applied the final touches to the ladies' dresses. Jonah and his sons butchered a bull calf and left it to hang until the wee hours of the night when they would roast it for our guests.

We welcomed early arrivals who would bed down in tents on the grounds that night, except for Charles Barrows, a close friend to both Father and the late Mr. Whitfield. He, his new wife, and his twin ten-year-old daughters by his first wife occupied the guest house. Those daughters, Pearl and Ruby, reminded me of Jane Marie both in appearance and in attitude, for they were high-spirited and winsome. That night, with music provided by three slave fiddlers, the guests danced in the glow from The Manor's oil lamps while the slaves danced in their quarter under the light of the moon.

When the evening's festivities were complete, I retired to the late Mr. Whitfield's bedroom, which Jane Marie and I would occupy after the wedding. When Ebony and Patience joined me, I commanded them to sit, fully clothed, on the edge of the bed. Patience was apprehensive but Ebony waited calmly as I paced the floor before them.

"I know Jane Marie and Fancy are lovers," I said. "What I do not know is whether that love is broad and deep, or of a more superficial and merely physical nature."

"We can tell you what we think, Bobby," Ebony said.

"Ebony," Patience whispered.

"I won't lie to him, Mother, and don't you either," Ebony said sharply, causing Patience to draw back.

Father's comments about the apprehension a slave woman must have about revealing her emotions to her master popped to mind, for my sweet Ebony had no such hesitation now. She, like I, knew our relationship had grown beyond the sexual into a strong emotional bond, although neither of us had said it. Perhaps she read in my countenance my own feelings for her, for she stood, stepped to me, and put her arms around my neck. I held her tenderly and she held me as Patience observed, and in her observation realized the depth of the feelings Ebony and I shared. That realization loosened her tongue.

When Ebony sat down again, Patience resumed the discussion, saying, "Fancy is afraid of men. She always has been, but her fear became a demon possessing her the night she watched Master Edward whip Ebony. She couldn't stop crying for a week."

Ebony said, "Jane Marie has been protective of her and Fancy uses that for her gain."

"Is that how Fancy avoided Mr. Whitfield taking her as he took the two of you?" I asked.

"Yes, it is. Jane Marie begged her father to leave Fancy alone and he did," Patience replied.

"Was that to have Fancy to herself?"

"I don't think so," Patience replied.

"I know it wasn't," Ebony interjected. "Jane Marie is like me, Bobby. She enjoys sex with a woman, and knows it is better than your own hand but not as good as with a man."

"Jane Marie hasn't had a man, has she?" I asked.

"Of course not," Ebony answered.

"Then how does she know a man is better?"

Patience and Ebony both appeared to be embarrassed, but Ebony said, "Every day she wants to know everything we did with you and we tell her. She is eagerly anticipating intercourse with you. Have no doubt. Jane Marie loves you and will be a good wife."

Patience was surprised that knowledge didn't anger me, but it did not. In truth, I was secretly pleased Jane Marie knew and did not object. "Tell me more about Fancy and Jane Marie," I said.

"While Jane Marie enjoys lying with Fancy, the root of her feeling is sisterly compassion, with carnal pleasures being a tasty extra. Fancy feels differently. She hates men and sees Jane Marie as both her principle lover and as a shield to protect herself from men's lances," Ebony said.

I looked at Patience, who said, "I agree, Master Robert."

"And she sees you as the man who will take Jane Marie from her, so she fears you greatly," Ebony said.

"How do you suggest I proceed?" I asked.

Patience shrugged. Ebony, however, replied, "You must strip away Jane Marie's protection so Fancy knows she must obey only you."

"And if she doesn't obey me?" I asked.

"Then you must whip her as a slave-girl is meant to be whipped, naked and tied to the slave's tree."

Patience shivered remembering that feeling. "That won't be necessary," she said softly. "If Fancy truly believes you will whip her, she will do anything to avoid it."

"But the whipping would banish any doubt she has about my resolve to direct her," I said.

"She'll believe you once Jane Marie's protection is removed," Patience said, and Ebony voiced her concurrence.

"How will Jane Marie respond?" I asked.

"I know she wants to be your wife and lover, but she still wants no harm to come to her sister. If you whip Fancy at the tree, Jane Marie will be sorely vexed. How she will ultimately behave as a result, I don't know," Ebony replied. "As for Fancy, Mother is right. You must make one thing undeniably clear to her - obedience to you, not Jane Marie, will be rewarded and disobedience will be harshly and swiftly punished by the whip."

Ebony's and Patience's unequivocal statements confirmed and clarified my thoughts about Fancy from my observation of her. One thing was clear. I could not sell Fancy, for Jane Marie would miss her too much.

"Where is the whip Mr. Whitfield used on you, Ebony?" I asked.

"I don't know," she replied.

"It's in the closet in his office," Patience said.

"Go get it," I commanded. "And bring any rope you might find."

By the time Patience returned with the whip and a coil of rope, I was naked except for the bottom to my longjohns. I took the whip from her and commanded them to quietly accompany me. With the key to Jane Marie's room in my other hand, we stealthily climbed the stairs until we stood outside her room, where we could hear groanings of pleasure within. I unlocked the door and surreptitiously opened it.

Although I expected to catch Jane Marie and Fancy enjoying each other, I was unprepared for what I saw. Jane Marie was naked and bound wrist and knee to the headboard of her bed, which bent her knees and opened them widely, and raised her bloated and dripping pinkness off the bed, exposing it to Fancy, who was tormenting her and making her beg for her needed release. A small ivory phallus jutting from Jane Marie's cunt enhanced Fancy's stimulation of her.

Watching them gave me a burning desire to participate by leaping upon Jane Marie and burying my cock in her, but my needs were nothing compared to hers, for she was fevered with desire. Ebony and Patience watched through the door as I walked toward the bed to observe more closely.

I was pleased with the lushness of Jane Marie's body as well as the heat it generated, for her breasts were larger than I imagined and rested high on her chest with small and hard nipples, and her legs were long and supple. The hair below her waist was as rich and dark as the hair on her head. Her flower was in full bloom, a most delightful sight, and her love button stood prominently erect, ready for a cock or tongue or finger to detonate it.

I covered her mouth with my hand and her eyes flew open as she screamed in horror and frantically fought to free herself. Between Jane Marie's pale white legs, Fancy looked up and saw me. She covered her face, shook, and sobbed into her hands.

"Be still, Jane Marie," I demanded. I turned to Fancy and said, "Fancy, stand there (I pointed to a spot on the floor) with your hands behind your head and your legs spread."

I turned back to Jane Marie and said, "It's no wonder you appeared so eager when Father handed me the rope that night. I see you enjoy its feel."

Jane Marie was, in an instant, as red as the brightest flower and her expression was as wanton as her mother's the night she reappeared with my father from their sojourn in the guest house.

"Do not speak a word, my lusty bride-to-be," I commanded. She nodded and I uncovered her mouth.

I turned to the terrified slave girl and snapped, "Quit your crying, Fancy." I stepped to Fancy and she drew back. "Never step away from me. Put your hands behind your head or I shall bind you that way," I commanded dramatically. Shaking as if bitterly cold and with tears flowing like rain, Fancy complied.

"Are you my slave, Fancy?" I asked her.

"Yes, Master," she sobbed.

"I own all of you, don't I?"

"Yes, Master."

"I own your breasts, don't I," I said, cupping them in my hands.

"Yes, Master."

I touched her right nipple with my left index finger before slowly trailing the finger down across her belly and to the bush below. I gently stroked the flower between her legs.

"I own your cunt, don't I?" I said as I drove a finger into her love passage.

"Yes, Master," she gasped.

"Some men think all women should be whipped before they are first used to insure their eager obedience. Your mother was so whipped and you watched Ebony on the slave's tree, didn't you?"

Poor Fancy was too distraught to speak. All she could do was shudder and sob and nod her head.

"Do you need to be whipped, Fancy?" I asked as I glowered at her.

"No, Master."

I turned toward Jane Marie. She trembled as I stepped to stand over her, but her trembling, as her countenance screamed, was desire and not fear. I kissed her hungrily before saying, "I am not in any way displeased with you, and I do love you deeply."

"I love you, too, Bobby," she whispered.

"Tell Fancy you will not protect her from me."

Jane Marie hesitated, which was not a surprise for I was asking her to do something she had never done. Had I thought she would not do it, I would not have asked.

"Fancy, you are Master Robert's slave and you will obey his every word. I myself will whip you if you displease him," she said strongly.

Hearing Jane Marie's words, Fancy swooned to lie prostrate on the floor.

"You two take Fancy to my room. Patience, return here to spend the night with Jane Marie. Ebony, stay with Fancy until I return," I said.

As they struggled to revive and move the unconscious girl, I turned toward Jane Marie. I released my erect cock from the confines of my longjohns, and it bounced in the air above her face. She gasped when it appeared and her eyes widened as she stared at it.

"See what you've done to me. Too bad we have to wait until we're married," I said. With the tip of a finger, I stroked her cunt lips before pulling the phallus from her. Of hand polished ivory and approximately four inches long, it was smooth as silk and slippery from her love juices.

"I'm bound. I can't stop you from taking me now," she said hopefully.

"No. It's best to wait until we're married," I replied as I continued stroking her.

"No, it's not," she retorted. Her countenance darkened when I leered devilishly at her. "Fuck me, Bobby," she demanded.

I guided my manhood to caress her cheek. She tried to take it in her mouth but I pulled away.

"Tomorrow, my love, you will have all of this shaft buried repeatedly within you, but for now, this will have to do." I covered her mouth with my hand and lowered my mouth to the rigid protrusion that was the seat of her womanly desires to take it between my lips and flick it rapidly with my tongue as Ebony had taught me. Her sweet girlish cunt rose to meet me to the extent her restraints allowed, vacillating as her love juices gushed into my mouth and her scream, despite my hand, filled the air. I removed my hand and she gasped for breath.

"Patience will release you when she returns, but no more pleasure for either of you. We have an important day tomorrow," I said. I kissed her heartily and left her there.

As I walked out of the room, she called after me, "I love you, Bobby."

I passed Patience on the stairs and instructed her to release Jane Marie's bonds and to stay with her. When I returned to my room, Fancy was on the bed with Ebony sitting beside her and telling her something I couldn't overhear. When they realized I was there, Ebony quickly stood aside. Fancy lay prone and her eyes reflected the horror possessing her.

"I own you, Fancy. When it pleases me, I will fuck you. You have no choice about that," I said to her. "You do have a choice about being whipped. Bring me pleasure and enjoyment and I won't whip you. Displease me and I will. But whether you please or displease me, I will do with you as I want and I want to fuck you. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Master," she answered in a dead voice.

I brought the whip down across the front of her bare thighs, making her scream and thrash and rub her legs with histrionics exceeding their cause.

"I whipped you because your face and tone of voice displeased me," I said to Fancy. "I will be ruthless in correcting you, for I want you to be most eager to make me happy."

Father, who was sleeping with my soon-to-be step-mother in the next bedroom, appeared at our door with a pistol in his hand. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Fancy is tasting the whip to see if it's to her liking," I explained.

"It's about time," he said coldly. "Call me if you need," he said before returning to his own room.

I said to Fancy, "Ebony calls me Bobby and Patience calls me Robert, but you will only call me Master." I held the whip out to her. "Take this and keep it close at hand. Carry it with you during the day, so it will be nearby if I want to whip you." Her hand shook as she took the whip from me. "I'm going to the outer-house. Be naked and in bed when I return."

"Yes, Master," she said with resignation.

By the time I returned to my bedroom, my plans for Fancy had changed from taking her that night to using a ploy suggested by Father's revelations concerning Mrs. Whitfield.

Seeing Fancy and Ebony in bed when I returned, I ordered Fancy to extend her arms over her head. I bound her wrists with the rope and tied them to the bed's corner post before I finished undressing and lay on the bed between them. I kissed sweet Ebony, rolled toward Fancy, and rested prone with my head propped up in my hand.

"I have no desire to whip you," I said as I rested my hand on her taut stomach. She squirmed under my touch. "But I am your master and I will enjoy all of a master's prerogatives. You are my slave and you will serve me as I want."

I explored Fancy's body as she lay bound and contemplating her fate. Fancy was the most lean of the four women in my life, with small, hard breasts and narrower hips. Her teats were large and well formed, and, as I soon discovered, swelled nicely when suckled. Her waist was smaller, too, and her legs seemed void of any fat even on the inside of her thighs.

When I touched her cunt, her legs snapped shut. "You know better than that," I chided. "Open your legs to welcome me."

She complied, for her terror of being whipped exceeded her fear of my possessing her. I stroked the bud of her cunt and tested her tunnel to find it devoid of moisture. Using my mouth against her breasts and torso and my hand on her sex, I stimulated Fancy until her cunt was dripping and beads of sweat glistened on her breasts and stomach. Then I stopped.

"Fancy," I said, "You may not give or receive pleasure without my express permission. Ebony, you are charged with spending every waking moment with her. If she seeks pleasure, whether from others or by her own hand, you will tell me and I will whip her."

"Yes, Master," Ebony said subserviently.

"If I am not with you at night, you will bind and tease her, but keep her from release, as I have done tonight."

"Yes, Master," Ebony said.

"You are welcome to your pleasure, Fancy," I said. "But you must come to me to receive it."

I rolled over and into Ebony's eager arms to feel her happy hands and body against mine. I mounted Ebony and we once again enjoyed our release together. Fancy's eyes never left me.

*****

The next morning, I was awakened early by Ebony's gentle stroking and nuzzling. Fancy lay awake beside me. I kissed Ebony, released Fancy, reminded them both of my instructions to Ebony concerning Fancy's behavior, and dressed for the day in my formal attire.

I went to the dining room where Melissa and the other servants were laying out breakfast for our guests. In addition to those who spent the night at Whitlands, we were expecting many more arrivals that day. Food would be served throughout the morning and again after the ceremony.

Since Mrs. Whitfield would not appear until later, Father and I spent the morning being the hosts, which was a joyous duty, for the adults - the farmers and businessmen and others who were Father's friends - treated me as an adult. Six weeks ago when I first was given that honor, I was elated by it. Since then, much water had passed under the bridge and my maturity had sprouted and grown with each drop of it. That day, I felt I belonged there, and I assure you, that was a good feeling.

Patience, Ebony, and Fancy assisted in the serving, although their duty was light. They wore identical dresses made for them at Jane Marie's insistence - cotton in a sky blue color, high necked, and with sleeves coming to their elbows. They wore corsets underneath, which was a first for Ebony and Fancy. The dresses fit their forms tightly to their waist and fell freely below. Each of them was appealing, but Ebony's sparkling face set her apart from her mother and sister.

About ten, Mrs. Whitfield appeared. When she entered the room, conversation ceased and a collective gasp rose from the assemblage, for she was quite beautiful both in her attire and in the glow of happiness radiating from within her.

Her dress, in dark burgundy velvet with wide piping in a red satin, began at the points of her shoulders and sloped to the valley between the hills of her breasts. It fit snugly over her corseted torso and fell from her waist over only a few layers of petticoats, making it appear more trim than was common at the time. A red satin rose nestled in the center, its top touching the dress' neckline. Her hair was straight about her head until eye level. From there, it fell in tight ringlets. The choker around her neck was a white and blue porcelain cameo attached to a red satin ribbon.

She glided through the room like a queen, head high and back straight, talking animatedly with her guests and graciously accepting their compliments. More than once I heard someone say they had never seen her so happy. Father was constantly at her side and his joy equaled hers, as our guests noted.

About eleven, Ebony and Fancy came to me seeking permission to quit their duties in order to assist Jane Marie in preparation of the ceremony. I gave Ebony permission, but ordered Fancy to follow me to my bedroom. Once there, I shut the door behind us. Fancy stood in the middle of the room with her hands clasped in front of her and her face full of dread.

"You're a beautiful woman, Fancy," I said to her. The compliment rendered her mute for I doubt any man had ever told that, but it was true. "I'm glad I own you and that you're part of my family."

"Thank you, Master," she said with trepidation.

"I know you love Jane Marie and love your sexual pleasures with her." She didn't answer but none was expected. "Don't be a silly girl and fight me. Realize that I won't hurt you if you please me, and when I am pleased with you, I'll allow you pleasure and share you with Jane Marie if she wishes."

I took a step toward her. She flinched but didn't draw away. "Raise your skirt for me," I said.

I feared she would burst into tears as she slowly raised her skirt, but she controlled herself. Without my asking, she spread her legs to give me access to what she knew I wanted. I lightly stroked the lips of her sex as I studied her face.

"Do you like that?" I asked softly when I saw the first signs of arousal in her.

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

"And do you like this?" I asked as I tugged on her love button.

"Yes, Master," she said as her passions flamed.

I ceased tantalizing her and lightly kissed her closed lips. "Remember I will bring you pleasure when you please me," I said firmly but not cruelly. "Now go help your mistress."

For her own reasons, she restrained her desire to plead with me for her release. She dropped her skirt and followed me out the door. She scurried away, but stopped to look back at me before she disappeared upstairs.

Our wedding ceremony was to be at high noon on the broad, grassy knoll on The Manor's west side. An altar on a raised dais built by Ironwood's carpentry shop was where we would pledge our vows as our guests stood in the open field around us.

Shortly before that hour, Pastor Simonton told me the time was near. I called for silence. When it fell, I asked our guests to join me before the altar. I took Mrs. Whitfield's arm to escort her as we led the way to the wedding site.

Jane Marie had asked Father to give her away, since her own father was deceased. He gladly agreed. She had decided to have only one attendant, her mother, standing for her. Father was my best man. Pearl and Ruby Barrows served as flower girls and Phillip Jefferson, a young man of six, served as ring bearer. Patience, Ebony, and Fancy would stand at the front but on the far side to observe the ceremony.

As I stood awaiting my bride, my heart was in my throat in eager longing for her. When she appeared on my father's arm in preparation of walking to the altar, I was struck dumb by her beauty and the import of the moment.

"Breathe, Robert," Pastor Simonton said quietly.

Her dress was brilliant white with a long train, and with a veil covering her hair and face. All I could see was white, but I saw where it narrowed around her waist and flared again below. Little did our parents or guests know that last night I saw all of her and tasted her sweetness and gave her delight, or that my adventure with her inflamed my already burning appetite to make her mine.

My singular focus and intensity began the moment I saw her on my father's arm and continued throughout the ceremony, which was too long by far as every groom must feel. When Parson Simonton said, "You may kiss the bride," I lifted the veil to reveal Jane Marie and her shining face that radiated her happiness and love for me. I kissed my bride, receiving a kiss like no other.

Father and Mrs. Whitfield planned to have the Parson wed them after the guests and we exited the wedding area, but after we trod the aisle to its end, I stopped, asked the guests to remain in place, and announced another wedding. The roar of the crowd was most rewarding. I stood beside Father to serve as his best man as he had done minutes before for me, and Jane Marie served her mother as matron of honor.

After that double wedding, brides and grooms and guests danced and dined and shared in the happiness, for it was a blessed day.

Late that night, when the guests were gone or asleep and the slaves were quiet and the day was done, I carried Jane Marie, still in her white wedding dress, into our bedroom.

When her feet touched the floor, she said, "You scared me to death last night when you barged in like that."

"Good. Remember, I am now your husband and, therefore, your master."

"Master? Ha," she said. "If Ebony can seduce you out of her punishment, I know I can."

"You knew about that?" I said innocently.

"You knew I did because Ebony told me she told you. We share everything. I know you have her every night and most mornings. I know about Patience. And I know your plan to terrify Fancy into obedience rather than actually whipping her." She smiled and wrapped her arms around my waist to peer into my face. "I have no objections to your mistresses, whether the slaves you have now or others in the future." She kissed me tenderly. "I know that even if you have a hundred Ebonys, I am your one and only true love, just as you know that you, not Fancy or Ebony, are my one and only true love."

"Jane Marie, although you have no objection about them, I would strenuously protest if...."

"Bobby MacKenzie, don't you dare say it," she interrupted with blazing eyes. "I love you with all my heart and soul. That love and my own honor are the reasons I will never commit adultery." She grinned wantonly. "Of course, I don't consider Sapphic love to be adultery."

"Oh, you don't?"

"No. I plan to enjoy it when it suits me."

"You're going to be a rare handful, aren't you?" I asked.

"Yes, and I'm well worth every minute of it."

She put her arms around my neck and we kissed. I well knew from our kisses and touches and the way she looked at me that our love was unlike any other, not only in the brightness of its flame but in the depth and breadth of its fire.

"Now, husband of mine, I understand the word is fuck. I know what it means. Show me how to do it."

For some reason I don't understand, my desire to have her quickly had diminished as my desire to have her increased, a strange juxtaposition indeed. I carefully lay aside her veil, then her wedding dress, then her corset and hose.

"Hurry up, Bobby," she demanded as she yanked my waistcoat from me.

"Didn't your mother instruct you to be a hesitant maiden?" I teased.

"Yes, but while I'm a maiden, I'm not in the least hesitant. I've wanted your cock in me since I first learned men have cocks and women have cunts to hold them." Her fingers were busy opening my shirt. "Besides, the ivory phallus Fancy uses is a pale miniature of what I saw last night and I'm eager to have the real thing."

She flopped back of the bed, wantonly spread her legs, and stroked her wetness with her fingertips. "See?" she asked, holding her glistening fingers out to me.

In seconds, I joined her on the bed and she wrapped her fingers around my manhood. "God, you're big," she whispered as she guided me into position.

As I stared down into her face so lustful and alive, I knew I was a man blessed and my life would be most unique.

"Oh, Bobby," she moaned as the head of my cock slipped between the lips of her cunt. "Fuck me. Fuck me long and hard."

*****

*****

Epilogue

 

MacKenzie Farms Inc.

P. O. Box 1

MacKenzieville, Missouri

March 15, 2001

Mr. Edward L. MacKenzie

2727 South Main Street

Laguna Madre, California

Dear Edward,

I have received your letter and the genealogical charts you sent. Genealogy is a passion of mine and I share your desires to uncover your ancestors. This letter will clarify part of the problem you encountered in your search, but it won't give you definitive answers. Those answers will require both more extensive research by you and luck.

I have in my possession the MacKenzie family Bibles and, more importantly, journals kept by Robert James MacKenzie Sr. from his age of sixteen in 1839 to his death in 1919 at the ripe old age of ninety-six when he was claimed by the St.-Louis-strain encephalitis epidemic that took twenty million lives worldwide. I will hereinafter refer to him as RJ1. The information I am providing in this letter came almost exclusively from his journals, which are long and rich in detail.

RJ1 was the first child of Robert Bruce MacKenzie (hereinafter RB1) and his first wife, Constance Anne Courtlandt.

RJ1 married Jane Marie Whitfield (hereinafter JMW) on April 27, 1839 at Whitlands plantation. On the same day RB1 married Mary Elizabeth Brunson Whitfield, Jane Marie's mother and the widow of Edward Whitfield. I understand this was not too uncommon at the time, although it made Mary Elizabeth both the mother-in-law and step-mother of RJ1.

The problem with your research and with any research into this line of MacKenzies stems from RJ1's peculiar nature, and JMW's own eccentricities, which dovetailed with those of her husband.

RJ1 himself best stated his nature by writing in his journal that he was "born a Baptist, married an Anglican, but had the heart and soul of a Mormon." Elsewhere therein he stated, "I am a fortunate man, for my beloved Jane Marie encourages me to take other women as my wives and to increase the number of offspring they give me."

In addition to JMW, RJ1 considered his "wives" to be: Ebony MacKenzie and Fancy MacKenzie, both Negro slaves and JMW's half-sisters; Patience MacKenzie, a Negro slave who was Ebony and Fancy's mother; Pearl May Barrows; Ruby Anne Barrows; and, Daisy Jane Cumberland. That is a total of seven.

The Barrows were twin daughters of Charles A. Barrows, a plantation owner in the area, and his wife, Priscilla, who died in childbirth. When the girls were eleven, their father and step-mother died. They became wards of RJ1 and came to live with him and his family at Whitlands. According to his journals, RJ1 made them his "wives" on their sixteenth birthday, which was in 1845.

Daisy Jane Cumberland was the daughter of Claire Fort Cumberland, an unwed woman in a dire position, and a father unknown. Although Daisy Jane was white, RJ1 bought her from her mother when Daisy Jane was thirteen because, again according to his journal, she was a "beautiful and fiery lass who would be a joy to tame and a pleasure to bed." She became his wife in 1849, when she was fifteen.

Legally, those other women were not his wives since he was married to JMW until her death in 1897. Still, I searched for wedding certificates or marriage licenses without success.

Both RB1 and RJ1 were concerned about the political situation in the United States as both were ardent Unionists who feared the Union would spilt asunder. Driven by this concern, they sold their South Carolina plantations in 1850, migrated westward, and acquired substantial farming operations in what is now northwest Missouri and adjacent parts of Nebraska and Iowa.

Accompanying them on this journey, which RJ1 refers to in his journal as "The Great Migration," were: Elizabeth MacKenzie Merewether, RJ1's full sister who was a widow with four children; all the other living lineal descendents of RB1; and several slave families totaling twenty-two people. All the slaves, including the three who were RJ1's wives, were given their freedom before the trip began.

RB1 and RJ1 created a genealogical nightmare because they both gave all their male children the first name of Robert, together with a different middle name for each. To complicate the issue, when they arrived in Missouri, all last names were conformed as "MacKenzie" and Elizabeth Merewether's two sons were given the first name of Robert.

RJ1 fathered children by all his wives as follows: JMW, eight; Ebony, five; Fancy, four; Patience, two; Pearl May, seven; Ruby Anne, six; and, Daisy Jane, seven, for a total of thirty-nine, not including children who died during childhood. Of these, twenty-four were male. In addition, RB1 had three children by Mary Elizabeth, two of whom were male.

This means that during this period there were thirty men in the extended family with the name of Robert MacKenzie. The problem is compounded by subsequent generations continuing those names for their own sons as my ancestors did for me.

You can see the problem I had when you asked me for information concerning your ancestor Robert MacKenzie, for I must reply, which one?

Until you can determine your ancestor's middle name, or exact date of birth, or provide some other unique criteria for identification, I am afraid I cannot help you further.

Good luck in your search.

Sincerely,

Robert James MacKenzie VI

 

 

The End
E. Z. Riter