01/12/2026
Biographical Sketch - Richard H Holland © LeAnne McCamey 2019
Richard H Holland (1817-1882)
In the rolling hills of Bedford County, Virginia, around the year 1817, a boy named Richard H. Holland entered the world, the son of Drury Holland, a hardworking farmer, and Matilda Lee, whose roots traced back through the Old Dominion's to***co fields. Life in early 19th-century Virginia was a rhythm of seasons and soil, but whispers of opportunity westward tugged at families like the Hollands. By 1830, when Richard was just a lanky teenager of thirteen, Drury packed up their modest belongings and led the family on a grueling migration south and west, following wagon trails through the Cumberland Gap into the fertile valleys of Middle Tennessee. They settled in Smith County, along the winding banks of Defeated Creek—a name that belied the promise of new beginnings in this rural frontier.
Richard grew into manhood amid the hum of farm life, where the Cumberland River carried goods and dreams alike. Around 1841, at age twenty-four, he married Aletha "Hettie" Dean, a local girl from a neighboring family, in a simple ceremony that bound their fates. But joy was tempered by sorrow; that same December, Drury died intestate, leaving a tangle of lands and debts. Richard, now the family's anchor, plunged into court battles alongside his mother, Matilda, and siblings, suing administrators and heirs to secure their shares. Through the 1840s, as lawsuits dragged on in the Smith County courthouse, Richard and Hettie built their own legacy: children arrived in steady succession—Amanda Josephine in 1842, Anna Elizabeth in 1844, Leonidas Thomas in 1846, Harvey Clay in 1849, and more—each one a testament to their resilience. Richard toiled as a road hand, overseeing dusty paths from Pistole's gate to the Macon County line, and farmed his inherited acres, growing corn, to***co, and livestock in the hilly District 5.
The 1850s brought prosperity and deeper roots. By 1850, Richard's farm spanned 242 acres, valued at $550, with horses, oxen, sheep, and swine grazing the land. He bought and sold parcels along Defeated Creek, witnesses like Henry Wakefield and John Murray signing deeds that expanded his holdings. More children blessed the home: Hayden in 1853, Nancy Adeline in 1855, George Millard in 1857, and Sarah Matilda in 1859. As a trusted community figure, Richard served as a school trustee for the humble Holland School House, which, by 1857, enrolled eighty-five children in District 5, including four of his own. He assessed taxes, sat on juries for road layouts, and embodied the steady pulse of rural Tennessee life.
But the storm of national division loomed. In 1860, Richard's farm had grown to 226 acres worth $1,800, complete with one slave valued at $700—a small stake in the South's divisive institution. As a Justice of the Peace and tax assessor, he navigated the heated debates over secession. Tennessee's initial reluctance gave way to fervor after Fort Sumter. In June of 1861, at age forty-four, Richard's name appeared on Captain John Turner's list for the Home Guard Minutemen—a pro-Confederate local militia in Smith County.
These "Minutemen," evoking revolutionary zeal, were tasked with defending homes against Union incursions or internal threats, drilling in the creekside fields where Richard had farmed for decades. It was a reluctant call to arms for a family man with a growing brood, but loyalty to his community demanded it.
Yet, the war's tides shifted swiftly. By early 1862, Union forces under Grant swept through Middle Tennessee, capturing Fort Donelson and occupying Nashville. Smith County became a contested ground, riddled with guerrilla raids and foraging armies. Amid this chaos, daughter Fannie was born in 1862, while Richard continued as a commissioner and JP, even deeding to***co crops to settle debts. But pragmatism—or perhaps a deeper Unionist sympathy—prevailed. On 24 August 1863, at the age of forty-six, Richard enlisted as a private in the 12th Regiment, Tennessee Cavalry (Union), Company H, mustered in Nashville under Colonel George Spalding. This switch from Confederate-aligned home guard to Federal cavalry was emblematic of Tennessee's bitter divisions; many older men like Richard joined Union units in occupied areas for protection, pay, or to shield their farms from raiders. The 12th Cavalry patrolled railroads, scouted against Confederate cavalry like Forrest's, and defended supply lines in the Department of the Cumberland.
Richard's service peaked in the crucible of the Nashville Campaign. In late 1864, as his daughter Sophia Emma was born back home, his regiment clashed in the Battle of Franklin (November 30) and the decisive Battle of Nashville (December 15–16), helping shatter Hood's Confederate army in a frigid, bloody rout. Mounted on horseback, Richard endured the hardships of cavalry life—long marches, skirmishes, and disease that claimed more lives than bullets. By war's end in 1865, the 12th pursued remnants through Alabama and mustered out in Kansas, its ranks thinned by 226 losses. Richard returned to Defeated Creek a Union veteran, his service a quiet pivot that spared his family the postwar reprisals faced by many ex-Confederates.
The Reconstruction years saw Richard rebuild. Administering estates like Jefferson Dean's in 1865, he expanded lands to over 400 acres by joint purchases with James H. Young. Tax lists from 1866–1871 tracked his steady holdings, valued at $1,200–$1,500 amid economic flux. He remained a pillar: trustee for Holland School, where his six children studied in 1871. But losses mounted—mother Matilda died in Kentucky that year, son Hayden in 1879.
In the 1870s, Richard dabbled in Jackson County affairs, selling tracts and serving as commissioner, perhaps eyeing retirement.
By 1880, at sixty-three, Richard had shifted to a smaller 105-acre farm in Jackson County along Salt Lick Creek, focusing on orchards, to***co, and livestock. Yet Smith County called him back to serve as guardian and administer in 1882, including the estate of his son-in-law, Wade E. Kemp. Daughter Sarah Matilda's death that year added to the grief. Then, suddenly, on 24 July 1882, Richard passed away intestate in Jackson County—active to the end, his civic duties underscoring a life of service abruptly cut short.
Aletha, widowed at sixty, petitioned for her dower on the 170-acre homestead, securing a year's provisions amid the estate sale where family bid on cherished items like clocks and churns. She outlived Richard by twenty-three years, dying in 1905 and being buried in Smith County's Dean Cemetery. Richard H. Holland's story is one of migration, toil, and quiet heroism—a Virginian-turned-Tennessean whose military odyssey from Confederate home guard to Union cavalryman mirrored a divided nation's soul, leaving a legacy etched in the creeks and courts of Middle Tennessee.
