AN UNEXPECTED HISTORY

by James Lincoln Warren

I do not believe that any person’s worth is determined by his ancestry. History is full of examples of wise and compassionate potentates whose issue were among the vilest of tyrants, as well as of highly meritorious men and women who were the children of utter blackguards. As we used to cry out during the gang’s regular Thursday Night Poker Game in college (we called ourselves “The Nut Flush Society” and had a framed charter with the house rules) whenever an unexpected hand swept all before it, “You never can tell.”

But the study of genealogy is not therefore completely useless. As a navigator, I learned that where you come from is at least as important as where you are headed in determining exactly where you are. For example: after I became a Master Mason, my next act was to join the York Rite and become a Royal Arch Mason. I did so in remembrance of my great grandfather, David Bishop Warren (d. 1913), whose obituary in the local Pembroke, Ontario, newspaper listed his membership in the Royal Arch as one of his accomplishments. When I became a Mason, my father, who is not a Mason, sent me a kind of medal that had belonged to David Bishop Warren called a Companion’s Jewel of the Royal Arch.

Next year, if elected, I will be the presiding officer of my Royal Arch Chapter. Since I am following in his footsteps to a limited extent, this upcoming event sparked my curiosity concerning my great grandfather, and so I did some digging. Family legend had always been that my Canadian forebears were originally New Englanders who were United Empire Loyalists, i.e., on the side of King George III, and fled to Canada when things started to go the way of independence. As is so frequently the case (another family legend had it that I am directly descended from Robin Hood, a man who never actually existed), family tradition was completely wrong.

I discovered that the tradition of being descended from U.E. Loyalists came not from the Warrens, as I had always supposed, but via the family of D.B.’s wife, Adelaide Huntington. The Ontario Huntingtons are still very proud of their loyalty to the Crown more than two hundred and thirty years later.

Not so the Warrens, as I mentioned. It turns out that my great grand-dad D.B. Warren was the third of that name. D.B.’s father was David Bishop Warren, Jr., also a Canadian, but his grandfather was David Bishop Warren, Sr., an American. One of Junior’s elder brothers was even named George Washington Warren—not a likely name for a Loyalist.

This is because Senior’s father was Gideon Warren, an officer in the Green Mountain Boys, one of the most storied militias on the American side and whose most famous member was Ethan Allen. As a veteran I was pleased, of course, to be descended from a Revolutionary War officer, but what really blew my socks off was further down the line.

Gideon Warren was the son of Jabez Warren (b. 1690), son of another Jabez Warren (b. 1647), who was the son of Nathaniel Warren (b. 1624). Nathaniel’s father was one Richard Warren (d. 1628), late of London.

A passenger on the Mayflower.

The Mayflower Compact
Richard Warren’s name highlighted.

I claim no personal virtue because of this association. Richard Warren has more descendants than any of the other Pilgrims, so it’s not really much of a distinction. But hey, you gotta admit—it’s pretty cool. I had known for many years that both sides of my family had originally come to America in the 17th century, but the earliest certain date I had known before was 1640, on my paternal grandmother’s side. This pushed it back to 1620 and is patrilineal.

So what does all of this prove?

Well, it does provide an insight into the richness of history and the surprises it holds. This is a key characteristic that I exploit in my Treviscoe stories. Who knows? As I continue my research, there may be a story or two in the offing.