It was the old family story that caused me to come across the story of Henry Key. Internet searches in efforts to discover what, if any connection of my family to Francis Scott Key frequently brought up the name of Henry Key, or his son’s name Tandy Clarke Key. Any possible lead seemed reasonable to follow up on , and in my genealogy beginner’s innocence, my research often took me in quite a few different directions. (It still does, on occasion) Often they wound up at dead ends or irrelevant to my family tree.
In this case, this particular Henry Key apparently is not connected to the Key family from which I am descended. That would be Warren Key, who moved from South Carolina to the Adrian Ga area in the very late 1700-early 1800s and the founder of Key’s Methodist church, Adrian GA. A son, Burrel Key changed the spelling of his surname to Kea and some family members followed suit while others continued the original Key spelling.
It also turns out, according to other descendants who had a Y-DNA test done, that our branch of Keys are NOT related to Francis Scott Key. Not even distantly. Research through documents supports this.
Sigh. Another cherished family story ripped apart and dashed to the ground. Oh look, I’ve already recovered from the shock. 🙂 After all, folks in search of facts and truth in genealogical research must learn to adapt and absorb what they find, whether it is what they think they want to know or not; good, bad, ugly and in between.
But I digress.
Henry Key was the son of John Key and Martha Tandy of Albermarle Va. He married Mary Clark and together with their children, moved to Old Ninety Six District of South Carolina part of which later became Edgefield County. He purchased some 2000 acres of land over time and built his family’s home on a high bluff overlooking a large creek. Nearly every account I have found on this names Turkey Creek as the watercourse, while maps show it as Stephens/Stevens Creek.
Malinda Key Letcher (1755 – 1780)
John Alfred Key (1757 – 1840)
Henry Junior Key (1759 – 1810)
William Key (1761 – 1803)
Tandy Clark Key (1763 – 1801)
Mary Polly Key Martin (1765 – 1805)
Mary Isham Key Martin (1765 – 1855)
Naomi Key (1770 – 1775)
Tandy Clark(e) Key lived for some time in Jefferson County Ga. His name drew my attention while searching my Key family as well as my Stroud family. I have found no connection linking Tandy Clark Key to either of my family lines other than a recent mention of a man whose exact name doesn’t come to mind but memory prompts me to state Tandy Clark Stroud. Additionally the particular passage mentioned a connection between T.C. Key and T.C. Stroud, who later moved to
Alabama Texas during the early 1800s. It is perhaps possible this may be a connection to my Stroud brick wall associated with my mysterious 3 great grandparents who first show up in records in Jefferson County GA about 1815. Time and research will or will not show further evidence of this possibility.
Fascinated by the history of the locales and the families, it came to my attention that the Key homestead is not far from that of my current location. Armed with details and information gleaned from the internet, I set out on a Sunday drive to attempt to locate the site and the rumored cemetery that remains there, both of the Key family and their slaves’ final resting places.
It’s not a long ride, nor a difficult one. Traveling from North Augusta Sc on Hwy 230-Martintown Rd, Key Road is on the left. Pastoral landscapes filled with gently rolling hills, dotted with cows, bordered with creeks and lined with open farmland and horse pastures. Once you cross Hwy 23 the landscape changes. Residential dwellings are non existent. There is little to no traffic. For a short time, the road wanders atop a ridge. A bit further on and the road narrows. The gravel is coarse and roars through the vehicle cabin as if to warn you away. Trees are tall and close, pushing the light away, making the traveler feel unwelcome and claustrophobic in the resulting gloom.
Doubts might begin to tease the back of one’s mind at the increasing gloom of the area, perhaps this is not the best choice of afternoon drives. Just as you begin to realize turnarounds are few, far between and rather sketchy looking, the descent begins. As if from childhood nightmares, the road curves and seems to disappear over the crest of a hill. But it continues downward and the further it descends, the deeper the gloom. When it seems the road can’t go any lower it levels out, but you’re not “safe” yet. For the road has bottomed out at the precipice of a high bluff over a creek, spanned by one of the most unpleasant bridges I have ever seen.
I stopped. I weighed the value of my personal quest against the menacing appearance of the rusted old construction straight out of my gephyrophobic nightmares. Knowing the road in question was less than two miles ahead I pushed forward. Around the curve and up the next hill, the trees retreat and the daylight returns. There is an old ranger – road maintenance station on the left. Just beyond that lies an unassuming dirt road on the left. At the end lies a popular recreational creek, walking and biking trails, two cemeteries, and an old historic home site.
But what would I find?
~ to be continued