A Stone, a Will, and a Contract

What do a stone in the road, a Will from the Prerogative Court of Canterbury England and a life care contract have in common? They were all found in Deed Book G at the Lawrence County Courthouse. 

The stone itself stubbornly refused to appear anywhere in the deed ledger, but it does manage to immortalize itself in the description of a one‑acre parcel sold by Howard and Tabitha Jane Badollet (a name that sounds like it wandered in from a Dickens novel) to Nicholas Kuseman on October 19, 1851. The description blandly begins, “with a stone planted in the center of the St. Louis Road,” as though this were a perfectly normal and socially acceptable thing to do.

Since this was the main stage road, this detail conveniently explains the passengers’ long‑standing complaints about the rough ride. Apparently, rather than improving the road, someone thought it best to install a large rock directly in the middle of it. One suspects the road commissioners were operating under a very different definition of “infrastructure improvement.”

The Will from the Prerogative Court of Canterbury England dated 1854 is that of Adam Corrie who never actually set foot in Lawrence County.  Adam joined the business of his uncle William Corrie in Wellingborough, Northamptonshire, England and eventually inherited it upon the death of William's daughter Jane. Adam was already doing quite well for himself as a merchant moving his manufactured lace products from England to Scotland and Scottish whiskey back to London.

Adam Corrie moved money between England and the United States, using credits and debits on the books of his friend Robert Jaffries, who had mercantile stores in London and New York City. Jaffries is credited with starting the Bank of America.

In 1818, fearing the prospect of a French-style revolution in Britain, Adam sent his son John Corrie to America to seek an alternative place to live. He returned having purchased, on Adam's behalf, 10,000 acres of land in Wabash and Lawrence Counties, Illinois at $1.25 an acre. This land stretched from Orio in northern Wabash County Illinois to Olive Branch Methodist Church in Lawrence County Illinois. The Corrie Land Purchase was one of the biggest in Illinois history, matched somewhat by the Flowers/Birkbeck land purchase near Albion, Edwards County Illinois.

Adam did not himself emigrate, his confidence in Britain having been restored. In his 22- page Will dated April 8, 1845, he bequeathed the Illinois land to his son John Corrie. (John gave his Power of Attorney to his Uncle Robert Corrie of Wabash County Illinois to manage and disperse the Illinois land.) Adams’ Will was thus recorded in Lawrence County to establish clear title for the sale of this land.

AS for the life contract: The internet said, so it must be true, that “Life Care contracts originated in the 1980s as a response to the growing need for long term care planning.”   Sorry, internet. Please have a seat. The researchers at the Lawrence County Historical Society would like a word.

Let us introduce James Hammitt, born November 30, 1780, in Virginia—back when candles were cutting‑edge technology. By 1850, James had relocated to Lawrence County, Illinois, where he lived with his daughter Rhoda Smith and her husband Alexander Smith.

At the age of 69—an age considered downright old in the mid‑1800s—James made a bold and forward‑thinking move. He deeded his real estate (three parcels of 40 acres each in Sections 11, 13, and 14, T2R12), then worth $700, to Alexander and Rhoda. In return, the couple agreed to support and maintain James for the rest of his life, providing him with “all the necessary comforts accompanying the infirmities of old age.” 

This must have sounded like a pretty sweet deal to the son‑in‑law. After all, 69 was practically pushing the expiration date for men at that time. Surely this was a short‑term commitment…right?

Fast forward to the 1860 Lawrence County census. Alexander’s real estate holdings had grown to $1,600, and he owned $1,200 in personal property. And James? Now 79 years old and still living with the family—apparently quite comfortable with this whole arrangement.

Then came 1863. Alexander died on May 11, leaving Rhoda to continue caring for her father on the farm. James was 89 years old at the time, and the real estate he had signed over years earlier—originally valued at $700—was now worth a tidy $5,000. That “sweet deal” was starting to look like a very long‑term investment indeed.

Rhoda held up her end of the bargain, caring for her father until his death on December 23, 1875. James Hammitt lived to the remarkable age of 95, outlasting the average life expectancy, his son‑in‑law, and perhaps a few unspoken family expectations along the way.

So, while the internet insists life care contracts are a modern invention, Lawrence County history begs to differ. It turns out that long‑term care planning has been around for quite some time—just with more farmland and fewer lawyers.

So next time you see Will Gibson in the Courthouse tell him you find his Deed Books very interesting.