KIMBALLS OF THE SOUTH
A Little Piece of America
Our earliest definite Southern ancestor is Joseph Kimball. He arrived in VA sometime between 1692 and 1695. While no definite proof seems to remain, I believe Joseph to be the son of Thomas Kimball and Mary Smith, of Ipswich Massachusetts. Throughout my entire childhood, stories of the Kimball family were passed down through family members. Of those, most, so far, are true. The one unproven story remaining is the one that says Joseph was born in Massachusetts. This paper is a tribute to him, taking the assumption he was born in MA to be truth. Again, this is UNPROVEN, but since I wrote this a while back, I thought you folks would appreciate it.
"I was born in 1671. I’m not sure of the exact date, because no one really ever told me. Just 1671. I had several brothers and sisters, and had a rather uninteresting first few years. But one night, one horrible night, that all changed. One cold night in 1676, we kids were already in bed. My father was outside putting the livestock and his wheelmaking tools away for the night. Mom always got mad if Dad left his tools out because she was very worried the Indians would steal them. They had been very restless of late, not liking they way the families in the area were treating them. Dad kept telling her she was imagining things, but Mom still worried.
While Dad was outside, Mom heard an odd noise. I didn’t think much about it, but Mom was immediately worried. She began wringing her hands and walking around the house. She looked above the door where Dad kept the gun, but it was gone. "He must have it outside with him" I heard her say aloud. I peered out from under my covers. "It’s going to be OK Mom", I said in my childhood innocence. Mom just smiled and said "go to sleep young man!". Suddenly, we heard another sound. Dad was shouting, and there was gunfire. Mom ran to the door,
shouting for us to be still. She ran outside and screamed! I couldn’t take it anymore, so I jumped out of bed. My sister and I ran out to see what was happening. There in the middle of the yard laid Dad. I didn’t understand at first, till my sister said "Oh No!". Mom suddenly turned and saw us. It was like she came to her senses, and she shouted for us to close the door! Behind her I saw one of the Indians. He was heading right for her!! "MOM" I shouted! "CLOSE THE DOOR" she screamed. I didn’t know what to do! I WAS only five, after all. I ran out after her. Before I knew it, someone had grabbed me from behind. It was an Indian. Chaos ensued. I don’t even know what all happened after that. I just know my Mom, myself, and 4 of my brothers and sisters, including the baby, were suddenly in the Indian camp.
They separated us from Mom, and I didn’t see her for a long time. One day I thought I saw her in the middle of camp, but they wouldn’t let us get close to her. I could hear her shouting, and there was alot of noise. I thought I heard one of the Indians say something about burning at the stake! Not for the first time, I was a little scared. Before I could run to Mom, one of the squaws took us out to the river to play.
The Skelkyl Indians took really good care of us, but I wanted my Mom. They sometimes took John, the baby to her, and I think he slept with her too, but the rest of us never saw her. I know I must have cried too much, for my sister once called me a baby. But I didn’t care. I wanted Mom! And Dad for that matter.
Finally, after a long time, they suddenly told me I was going home! How can that be? I didn’t know, but after more than a month here, and what seemed like an eternity, I just wanted my Mom. We were herded, sort of like cattle, to the center of their camp, where Mom met with us. She took my hand, and one of my sister’s hands, and said "We’re going home". Mom held her head high, and walked out. We walked for what seemed days, until we finally got back to Ipswich.
I overheard Mom telling my Uncle Benjamin she had been "nearly burned at the stake, three times," whatever that meant. As for me and my brothers and sisters, we were just glad to be home.
For a long time, not much else happened in my life. Uncle Benjamin saw we had all we needed to survive. We followed the traditional Puritan lifestyle. We studied the Bible almost every day. As I grew and matured, I learned a little about other parts of this new land. Not too far away was a Captain Thomas Kemble. He showed up now and then at the coastline, with stories of Virginia, and England. I was really intrigued. The Captain didn’t seem like a very good Puritan to me though. He was very rough and tough. That’s the one thing I didn’t like about him.
Anyway, when I was 17, I became apprenticed to Mr. Zacheus Curtis. Mr Curtis was a carpenter, but in my opinion, not a very good one. I know for a fact I could build a house without him almost from the very beginning! One day he got mad at me and said he would take me to court if I didn’t start doing what he said. Why if I did that, the house we were building would practically fall over at the first gust of wind! I told him that too, and he didn’t appreciate it very much. Then I got a "summons" to go to court. I couldn’t believe it. So, we went to court, day in and day out. I was getting pretty disgusted myself.
Then one day I woke up not feeling so hot. I decided not to go to work that day (nothing like giving that man more fodder to yell at me about). I was really sick. Mom called the doctor, who diagnosed it immediately. Small Pox! The whole village was scared! Mom sent the rest of the family off to be with Uncle Benjamin, and she took care of me herself. I don’t think I’ve ever been so sick! But this too shall pass, and pass it did. Finally, I was feeling better. Well, sort of. Mr. Curtis was still being a real pain. We STILL had to go back to court.
I had worked for that man for years, and kept him in business. How does he thank me? By taking me to court!
Finally we settled. My Mom had to pay Mr. Curtis some money, which really made me mad. I promised her I would pay her back as soon as I could. Then I decided to drown my sorrows at the local Tavern. I guess I drank a bit much. I stood up to leave and nearly fell over. "Darn", I thought. "Guess I can’t keep this up no more". I headed for the door, and ran into the darn thing. "Ouch" I shouted! Everyone else just laughed as I walked out.
I walked into the alley on my way home. Actually, stumbled is more like it. Suddenly there were four ugly looking guys coming after me! They looked like sailors, with their greasy hair and ugly clothes. They all came at me at once. I tried to fight back, but one shoved me up against the wall so hard I thought I would die! I charged, but they just laughed. Suddenly, I was shoved from behind,,,, then things went black.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. The ground was still moving. "Ouch" I groaned Must be still really drunk. I stood up slowly, only to feel like I was tossed aside again, and fell down. I heard laughing. No,, it was more like cackling. I looked around. I was in a dark room, lit by one lantern on the end. For some odd reason that lantern was swaying to and fro. Suddenly it dawned on me! I wasn’t in a room! I was on a ship! Then I heard the creaking as the ship moved to and fro like the lantern. "Where am I?" I asked. My voice was raspy and I was surprised. "Why Son, you’re on board the Merchant Marine’s ship! You’re now a Merchant Marine! Aren’t you thrilled?" The sailor smiled a toothless smile, threw his head back, and cackled like a hen. Slowly, realization hit me like a ton of bricks! I had been caught by a press gang!
Well, life certainly did not get any easier. I decided I’d better be careful, because I had heard some awful stories about the Merchant Marines, and I intended to live through this. I worked hard, and pulled my weight on board ship. We traveled to and from England to the Canary Islands, back and forth. I waited for the opportunity to get close to home. I hated this ship. I hated the food, but I did not want to go to England. I wanted America! So I waited and bided my time.
After a few years the opportunity came. The Ship’s captain decided I was trustworthy, so he pulled into Virginia. We came in along the James River and were to stay for several days. I began saving food as soon as I heard this, putting it with my few belongings. The second night, I went for it. I volunteered to stand watch, hoping they wouldn’t think it was unusual. After all had gone to sleep, I jumped ship into the water. I quietly swam to shore, and took off for the trees.
I knew they would be after me, so I headed south and west. I figured my best bet would be to stay away from cities. Before I knew it, I had run into an Indian! Scared me at first, but I remembered my stay with them as a child. Most of them were really very nice, and this guy spoke English. He took me to his village, and let me stay there for a while. I figured it was probably the best, since I knew the Marines were looking for me. I think I’ll just lay low for a while here. I don’t have alot to show for my life so far, do I? No money, no job, no wife, and no children. Why DO I want to be here anyway? Why not be a Merchant Marine?"
First Generation
1. JOSEPH1 KIMBALL, was born abt 1671. He ended up settling in Surry County Virginia, where he made his home. Here he led a very quiet life. Always fearful and mistrustful of those around him, he chose to make his living as a Frontiersman. He enjoyed the quiet life for the last few years of his life.
He managed to intermix his Puritan upbringing with his new Virginia land quite well. This is evident in the way he named his children. In strong Puritan fashion, he named several of his children after the Bible, with Joseph, Benjamin, Peter, and possibly Rebecca. However, Virginia tradition was to name your children after your family and Royalty of Europe. Combining both of these wonderful traditions, Joseph proudly named two of his children as William, and Charles. After all, he must fit into his new world, as well or better, as he fit into the old one.
Drawing on his experience with the Skelkyls of Massachusetts, he made a meager living trading with the local Native Americans. He also apparently taught his sons the ways of the Native American. While there is no specific proof to this, two of his sons were "Indian Traders", and it's possible, though not probable, one of them married a Native American.
But Joseph did not do very well monetarily, always finding himself in need of supplies. He turned to Mr. Frances Mallory for help. I believe Mr. Mallory owned a General Store, as did his descendants who moved into North Carolina. Being a generous man, he allowed Joseph to purchase supplies on credit. When Joseph died, Mr. Mallory was his largest creditor, so he took over the remains of the Joseph Kimball estate. All 10 Pounds of English Currency. It took several years for Mr. Mallory to complete his task. He repeatedly missed court dates from quarter to quarter for over two years. It’s possible he was a very busy man, or perhaps he wished to allow Joseph’s children as much of the money as possible. Much of it must have ended up in their hands as they grew to adulthood. How much is unsure. He presented the final settlement in 1713, two years after the first mention of the estate.
JOSEPH KIMBALL had the following children:
2 i. JOSEPH2 KIMBALLJR was born 1700.
3 ii. CHARLES KIMBALL was born 1702.
4 iii. WILLIAM KIMBALL was born 1707.
5 iv. BENJAMIN KIMBALL was born 1708.
6 v. PETER KIMBALL was born abt 1710.
It’s possible he also had a daughter named Rebecca, and possibly also an Anne, who married Richard Bryant (read about William Kimball). Joseph did not live long by today’s standards, but was about average for the time frame (40 years), but considering the rough and eventful early years, I’m sure the last 13 were a blessing.
Again, while this first "story" is unproven, the stories from the family are not. The descendants of Joseph Kimball Jr have indicated their "grandfather" was from Massachussetts. The descendants of William Kimball (My line) now use the name KIMBELL, and they too have said the family is from Massachussetts, and that "All Kimballs are related. We all came over at the same time", as quoted from my great aunt, Muriel Gross Kimbell. Peter Kimball's descendants, however, have the impression they are Scottish. I think this may come from one of the WIVES families, as the Kimballs are definitely not Scottish by name, as far as I know. Peter's descendants use the spelling KIMBRELL.