“To the one who is victorious, I will give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it.”
— Revelation 2:17
The Significance of Naming After Emancipation
By 1870, formerly enslaved individuals took one of the most meaningful steps toward self-definition—choosing a surname. This act marked new beginnings, kinship, and, at times, survival.
From the Plantation Ledger to the 1870 Census — and the Power of Choosing One’s Own Name
In 1864, Jane Pressley McConnell, a rice planter from Oak Hill Plantation in Nesmith, South Carolina, willed 66 enslaved individuals—listed by first name only—to her six children: James Zuill, John Thomas, Elizabeth Catherine, Eleanor Maria, Martha Caroline, and Samuel Blakly.
Their names were recorded next to livestock and furniture, gifted as property.
In 1870, for the first time, they could choose how the world would know them. Not as a line in someone else’s will, but as mothers, fathers, sons, daughters. As families. As survivors. As free.
For example:
- Peter and Dinah, and their children Gilbert, Sarah, Alfred, and Will, became the Davis family.
- Gadson became Gadson McGill.
- Franklin took the name Williams.
- Amelia married Will Green.
- Madison chose the surname Johnson.
- Travis became Travis McGee.
- Sarah, Ann, and Ella retained the McConnell surname—perhaps out of familiarity or limited options.
- Adam and Caroline became Singletary, possibly reflecting a new alliance or former landowners.
- Susy, Judy, and Delia adopted the surname King in 1870, but reverted to McConnell by 1880—showing how identity remained fluid during Reconstruction.
The names they claimed—Dorsey, McGee, White, Green, Williams, Davis, King, McGill—were more than just words on a census.
They were declarations of dignity, acts of courage, and seeds of legacy. A reminder that names hold stories and stories hold power.
They lived through what many could not imagine. But their endurance gave birth to generations. Their fight made space for freedom. Their names—once spoken in chains—now echo in pride. And that… that makes all the difference.
What Story Does Your Name Carry?
Unlike John Thomas McConnell and his inheritance of enslaved people from a will, my ancestors’ names were not preserved in legal ledgers, but they live on through family letters, ancestral memory, and quiet testimony and legacy.
Mary Brisbane Hext of Barnwell received an inheritance through her marriage settlement.
This is the genuine marriage settlement, written in 1857 at Barnwell, South Carolina – 168 years ago. The physical copy exists within the Williamsburg County Records of Conveyances.
She was gifted five enslaved people from her father, L.P. Hext. Ironically, that family of five was my 5x grandmother (meaning fifth great-grandmother) Elvira and her children, Grace, Hampton, Rhina, and Rozena, valued at the sum of $5.00.
They had come to Nesmith, South Carolina, as the personal property of Mary Brisbane Hext McConnell of Barnwell, South Carolina. These five individuals were part of Mary’s wedding dowry and therefore do not appear in Jane Pressley McConnell’s 1864 will. They represent the lineage of the author’s family.
1870 census where George, Grace and two sons Joe and Hampton surname is Sams.
A Closer look. ⬇️
In the 1880 Census for Black Mingo Township, Williamsburg County, South Carolina, the surname Sams were later changed to Dorsey.
A Closer look. ⬇️
- George, Grace children Joe, Hampton and my GGG (Great-Great-Great) grandfather Mose Dorsey.
- Will and Amelia Green
- Travis and Rhina McGee
The names they chose were Dorsey, McGee, White, Green, Williams, Davis, King, McGill weren’t just marks on a census page.
Each name told a story. Some honored the bloodline. Some broke from the past. Some were chosen just to survive in a world still learning how to see them as human. Each name carried the weight of a decision—to honor family, to escape the past, or to navigate a changing world.
What Story Does Your Name Carry?
This is just the beginning. In Part Two, we’ll follow these names through generations—tracing the lives they built, the families they raised, and the legacies they left behind.
But we can’t tell this story alone. If you recognize a name, a place, or a piece of this history in your own family—we invite you to share it. Every memory adds light to what was once kept in shadow.
Together, we can reclaim the fullness of these lives, honor their truth, and pass their stories forward. Because their names weren’t where the story ended—they were where it began!
Discover what comes next in Part Two: Carrying Legacies and Living Stories (Coming Soon!)
