Ancestry Magazine

Who are Paul Bunyan, Davy Crockett, Johnny Appleseed, Annie Oakley, and John Henry? Did they really exist? People consider them to be among the greatest folk heroes in American culture. Legendary tales passed on for generations note and embellish their superhuman adventures; ballads set rhyme and meter t o the popular stories; and children read their tales and then make games of their heroic exploits.

We are all familiar with the stories. Davy Crockett killed a bear when he was only three and was the hero of the Alamo; Annie Oakley could outshoot, outride, and outrun any man; John Henry competed against the rise of industry–and won, at the loss of his own life; Paul Bunyan and his blue ox Babe left tracks in the Minnesota mud that created and filled the 10,000 lakes; even Johnny Appleseed’s life was spared from two bullets because his Bible was pressed firmly against his chest.

But are any of the stories true, or even based on fact? Are they simply remnants of a collective memory passed down through childrens’ books and fireside yarns? The reality of folk heroes is much debated, even among historians and folklorists. But using a bit of genealogical research, we can begin to understand who these people really were.

John “Appleseed” Chapman
Johnny Appleseed, or rather John Chapman, is one folklore character we can be sure is based on a true person. John Chapman’s exploits were mild in comparison to the grandiose stories of Paul Bunyan and Davy Crockett. He spent much of his life planting and tending apple orchards along the westward migration routes.

Appleseed’s legend evolved over time with the spreading and embellishment of his lifestyle by those who knew him, or knew of him. People told tales of a barefooted man walking the migration trails of Pennsylvania and Ohio with a tin pot on his head and planting appleseeds along his way. One tale claims that on the day of his birth, he opened his eyes toward an apple tree that was brushing against the window and cried out for the fragrant blossoms on the tree. Tales of his later life describe how he was forced away from his true love due to family conflicts and later learned that she had died of a broken heart. For many years thereafter, Johnny A ppleseed returned to her grave to plant seedlings.

A birth record shows that Chapman was born in Leominster, Massachusetts, on 26 September 1774. His father was among the Massachusetts minutemen intent on freeing themselves from British control; his mother died of tuberculosis when he was not yet two years old. During his youth, John went to work for local farmers and possibly apprenticed as an orchard-keeper.

In reality, John Chapman was less of an eccentric old man as stories claim, and more of a shrewd businessman. Knowing that land companies required settlers to plant apple trees on their homesteads, Chapman began to set up nurseries of seedling apple trees along the migration trails and sold them to travellers. He spent much of his time travelling between his nurseries and tending the trees he planted there. But Chapman wasn’t only about providing seedlings to the settlers. He was also a dedicated missionary for the Church of the New Jerusalem (Swedenborgian Church), and he delivered his message to the pioneers he met in his travels.

Chapman was a gentle hero. He lived mainly off of the land, and he didn’t hunt. He learned many of his wilderness and survival skills from the Native Americans in Pennsylvania and Ohio, and in turn taught them how to cultivate apple trees and became a sort of medicine man to them.

No one knows for sure when John Chapman came to be known as Johnny Appleseed, but according to correspondence dated between 1817 and 1822, he was known by the nickname at least by the time he was in his forties. One letter mentions John Chapman and states that he was known as “John Appleseed” to the people of Ohio.

At the time of his death in Fort Wayne, Indiana, on 18 March 1845, Chapman had a successful orchard business, and left behind hundreds of acres of orchards in both Ohio and Indiana. But beyond apple orchards (and one remaining apple tree that continues to yield fruit every year), he also left behind a legacy that h as remained in the minds and hearts of people for generations.

Annie Oakley: Little Sure Shot
Few women have influenced the legendary “west” as much as Annie Oakley. She is remembered for shooting the ashes off the cigarette of Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany, consistently slicing a playing card (thin edge toward her) from a shot at thirty paces, and performing for many years in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. But while her tales are tall, they are based solidly on fact.

Phoebe Anne Oakley Moses (or Mozee) was born 13 August 1860 in Darke County, Ohio. Her Quaker family migrated to Ohio while she was a child and, necessitated by poverty in the family, Annie spent several years working outside of the family as a servant. In time, she was using her rifle so successfully that she was able to pay off the family debt through the sale of the game she hunted. Her reputation grew as her shooting skills grew, and she began shooting in competitions when she was a young teenager.

A shooting contest against noted marksman Frank E. Butler changed her personal life. Butler was defeated in the competition, but he gained a wife some time later after Annie agreed to marry him. Annie and Frank spent much of their life together performing in their own shows and in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show. In fact, Annie’s generosity was so well-known that a complimentary ticket offered by her for one of her shows came to be known simply as an “Annie Oakley.” She became friends with Chief Sitting Bull, who was victorious over General Custer in the Battle of Little Big Horn; Sitting Bull named her “Little Sure Shot,” a name that stuck with her. When she visited Europe with Buffalo Bill’s show, her “western” heroics were embellished by the international presses. Interestingly, Annie Oakely’s reputation as a true western heroine is unfounded. She never travelled farther west than the Mississippi River except on an occasional tour with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show.

Annie was severely injured in a train accident in 1901 and retired from the Wild West Show soon thereafter, but she remained actively involved in teaching and performing. When World War I began, she volunteered her services to train soldiers in marksmanship.

She died in Greenville, Ohio, 3 November 1926, followed closely by her husband, who died 21 November that same year. A list of cemetery inscriptions from Darke County, Ohio, shows the couple buried in Brock (New) Cemetery. Her tombstone inscription “At Rest” lends no information to the remarkable life that she led.

Twenty years following her death, in 1946, Annie’s life story was immortalized with Irving Berlin’s Broadway musical Annie Get Your Gun. She was inducted into the National Women’s Hall of Fame in 1993. Today, Annie Oakley is remembered for her excellent marksmanship and showmanship, but it is her legend and the stories of her remarkable feats that live on.

John Henry, the “Hammerin’ Fool”
Although the legend of John Henry is not a happy one, it once served as a source of inspiration to the unsung working man of the 1870s and 1880s. His legend claims that he fought the growing threat of industry, and won–if only for a brief moment.

The legend of John Henry, a freed slave working for the C&O Railroad, seems to be based on fact, but could easily have grown from the life stories of many men in similar circumstances. Unfortunately, genealogical records are difficult to discover for slaves, even freed slaves, of the time. And the records of freedmen working for the railroad–which were known for high mortality rates, and little record-keeping of the dead–are just as difficult to trace. Nevertheless, historians of the 1920s interviewed men who worked for the C&O Railroad in West Virginia and stories of John Henry, while never consistent, abound.

The details of John Henry’s early life can only be surmised; it is largely from oral tradition that historians gather their information. He would have been born a slave in the 1830s or 1840s. During the post-Civil War Reconstruction era, he likely joined the exodus of freedmen from the south and searched for employment, which he found with the C&O Railroad. He worked with the team that was joining the Chesapeake Bay with the Ohio Valley by rail. When they came upon Big Bend Mountain in Summers County, West Virginia, railroad owners decided to tunnel through the mountain. Like so many other folk heroes, John Henry was known for his brute strength. And because of his brute strength, historians assume that he worked in the most dangerous section of the tunnel, at the heading, as a driver or hammer man.

It seems fitting that the legend of John Henry has been perpetuated almost entirely through the myriad, yet inconsistent, lyrics of ballads. Most common among railroad workers was the constant tunnel work song. With its steady, slow rhythm, it enabled the workers to dig, hammer, and drill more effectively. John Henry’s voice would have been low and steady, joining the other workers’ voices as they rose and fell to the rhythm of the tunnel songs and to the rhythm of the hammers.

According to oral tradition, John Henry died while working for the C&O Railroad at the Big Bend Tunnel. The story and ballad that makes him legendary claims:

“John Henry was a hard workin’ man,

He died with a hammer in his hand.”

At the time, steam drills were being tested in the railroad industry and, as was commonplace, competitions among the workers offered a diversion to the strain of the work. With these two elements combined, it is not surprising that the legend places the star driver, John Henry, at the forefront of the most challenging competition of all–a race against a steam drill. The “hammerin’ fool” raced against the steam drill and, using two hammers, drove fourteen feet and was victorious over the machine, which drilled only nine feet. Unfortunately, the competition was too much for John Henry, and legend claims that he died as a direct result of the race, either that day or soon thereafter.

Since the 1870s, when the legend of John Henry served as a source of strength to working-men enduring the harsh conditions of the railroad, the legend has grown and diversified. Now, many haunting ballads that retell the sad story are sung and passed on to future generations. Today, John Henry’s heroic feat has not lost its impact, and folklorists continue to seek the truth about the John Henry legend.

Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier
Like the legend of John Henry, Davy Crockett’s adventures have been recorded in ballad form and are perhaps best-known through the lyrics that elevate him to the position of “King of the Wild Frontier.” The tall tales featuring Davy Crockett are innumerable, and always, his famous coon-skin cap rests comfortably on top of his head.

But his story is also founded on a very real-life person. David Crockett was born 17 August 1786 in Greene County, Tennessee. He was an outdoorsman from the beginning, and spent much of his free time shooting a rifle and becoming an expert marksman. He spent little time in school (some estimate less than a total of 100 days), preferring the out-of-doors to books.

He married Polly Finlay in 1806, and settled for a time in the mountains of East Tennessee. Some years later, Crockett’s life took a turn he couldn’t have expected. With the Creek War threatening the valley, he joined the military as a scout and spent several years, on and off, pursuing a military career. In time, his focus evolved to politics, and he served as a justice of the peace, town commissioner, and finally as congressman. Davy Crockett represented the frontier, working toward lan d deals that would enable the pioneers of Tennessee to more easily afford and work the land they were settling.

His platform soon connected with the Whigs. In fact, much of the tall tales that were published about Davy Crockett at the time were written as political propaganda favoring Whig politics. During those years, Crockett had numerous adventures that helped to elevate his status to folk hero and encourage the stories that ran rampant. He is said to have braved a raging river to get gunpowder, he hunted and killed numerous bears (the amount is staggering but never consistent among histories), and he nearly died of malaria. When he learned others were grieving his loss, he boasted, “I know’d this was a whopper of a lie, as soon as I heard it.”

Davy Crockett is perhaps best-known for his heroics at the Alamo. Unfortunately, the big Texas land was not to be his home. He was among the 139 defenders of the Alamo killed in 1836.

Paul Bunyan and His Blue Ox, Babe
Perhaps the greatest of all American folk heroes is Paul Bunyan. Noted most for his creation of the Grand Canyon, the Great Lakes, and the Puget Sound, among many other national landmarks, the great lumberjack Paul Bunyan lived a life full of exploits.

Legend claims that five overworked and exhausted storks delivered him to his parents in Bangor, Maine. When he was a child, he was given a pet blue ox, Babe, who grew to be so large that it could eat thirty bales of hay for a mid-day snack. And as a great lumberman, it was rumored that Paul could clear a forest with a single swing of his ax.

But his legend is based, at least in part, on fact. While few documents exist to prove the theory, historians believe that a French-Canadian timberman named Fabian “Joe” Fournier is the likely real-life person behind the Paul Bunyan legend. Born in Quebec, Canada, around 1845, Fournier came to Michigan, Saginaw country, after the Civil War because logging p aid considerably more than similar work in Canada at the time. He was hired as the boss logger, or foreman of a logging crew, and was a strict manager of camp rules. He was large and strong, and could deftly handle a double-bit axe. His brawn soon placed him as the top “feller” in the woods.

But aside from his skills as a logger, even Fournier’s physical characteristics gave reason to mold him into the legendary Paul Bunyan. Fournier stood six feet tall at a time when the average man was not much taller than five feet. He had large, powerful hands and was rumored to have two complete sets of teeth. He was a rough lumberman who brawled and drank heavily. In fact, it was following one of his brawls that Fournier was murdered. He was hit in the back of his head with a ship carpenter’s mallet on the night of 7 November 1875 (according to tradition), in Bay City, Michigan, but his death record shows his death in October of that year.

The proliferation of the Paul Bunyan legend can be traced chronologically through newspaper stories, poetry, and even a national ad campaign. Lumberjack storyteller Jimmy Conn and others perpetuated the adventurous stories of Fournier among the lumbermen of Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. Over time, these tales became connected to a French-Canadian hero of the 1837 Papineau Rebellion, Bon Jean. The lumbering tales of Fournier and the name of Bon Jean combined to create the legend of Paul Bunyan.

In 1906, journalist James MacGillivray wrote a Bunyan tale for a newspaper and had it republished in 1910; he later worked with a poet who told the same story in the poem “The Round River Drive,” which appeared in 1914 in American Lumberman. The poem was the first national exposure given to the legend of Paul Bunyan, but it exaggerated many of the circumstances of the loggers’ lifestyle and the tall tales grew each time they were told. That year, W.B. Laughhead, a marketer for the Minnesota Red River Lumber Company, pr omoted lumber products with Paul Bunyan as mascot, and the illustrations created for the campaign showed Paul Bunyan for the first time as a larger-than-life logger.

Today, it takes both historians and genealogists to place the story and the folk hero in their original setting–with a tough, brawling Canadian logger boss in Saginaw country, Michigan.

The legends and facts presented here are largely the result of hundreds of stories, histories, and rumors that have endured the passage of time. Most of the records have been lost, eyewitnesses are long-since deceased, and the truth behind the legends is almost imperceptible. It is up to family historians to gather the remaining records, analyze the data, and present the facts–separating it from the fiction. Only then will we know for a certainty that these legends are made of more than tall tales; they are stories based on influential people who made a mark on the world in their own unique way.

Further Reading
Paul Bunyan: How a Terrible Timber Feller Became a Legend, by D. Laurence Rogers (Historical Press, 1993).

Legends, Lies, and Cherished Myths of American History, by Richard Shenkman (Harper & Row, 1989).

John Henry: A Bio-Bibliography, by Brett Williams (Greenwood Press, 1983).

Jennifer Browning, senior editor of Ancestry Magazine, has been recognized by the International Society of Family History Writers and Editors for her excellence in writing.