#16 Susannah Wright Hollingsworth was the daughter of John Wright and Rachel Wells, which would make her my fifth great grand aunt. She was born on 15 April 1755 in North Carolina. She married Isaac Hollingsworth on 12 December 1772 still in North Carolina. The Wright family were well known Quakers and Susannah is mentioned in at least three books that I know of.
Two of them talk about her preaching. An excerpt from ‘A Walk In a Country Churchyard,’ by Luke Smith Mote, Autumn, 1880: “The next one (grave) over south is marked with the initials ‘S. H. 1830,’ which stands for Susanna Hollingsworth, the mother of Susanna Jones above, died at her son-in-law’s Robert Pearson three miles northwest of here on the thirty-first of July of that year. Her home then was with her daughter Sarah in Clinton Co., but was taken sick there whilst on a social visit to her children and (?)here away. She had lived a widow many years amongst her children. Her husband (I. Hollingsworth) died in 1809, who was also buried in this tier. She was a recorded minister of the gospel and one of the first older emigrants from Bush River, S.C. She had traveled considerable in different states in the service of the gospel, as the records show.” Then another one went into further detail. An excerpt from The Annals of Newberry – First Part by O’Neall, page 30: “…Susannah Hollingsworth, was not so highly gifted. Henry O’Neall , and other young Friends, used to affirm, that when Aunt Suzey, as she was called began to pray, they could always keep ahead of her by repeating the words she was about to say.”
A third gives us a good picture of her. In ‘The Annals of Newberry – Part Second’, by John Chapman, page 342“ Before Isaac Hollingsworth’s family is dismissed I must give a short biography of his wife, my most revered maternal grandmother. Left a widow, as before stated, in 1809 at the age of 54, she lived among her children the remainder of her life. She made religious visits after her husband’s death, one of which was, I think, to Newberry, others to the East. Possessing an excellent memory and having long experience, she was an excellent conversationalist. With great interest have I heard her tell the fearful tales of the revolution in Newberry district; of how Foster, the desperate Tory and criminal, who, refusing to heed the warning her father had given, was shot through the head after peace was made. Her piety, equanimity and kindness, particularly towards her grandchildren, were such that they loved her with the most ardent affection, believing that no grandmother could be better. One Sunday evening in July, 1830 she went on horseback from her daughter’s residence to that of her son-in-law, his wife being dead. On the way she said to her company young grandson:’I am going to thy fathers just to die.’ This was said with as much calmness of feeling as though she had said I’m going there to live. The next day she was taken ill. To her son Joel who visited her she said ‘I am going, but not as speedily as I could wish.’ Death came to her as a friend. Near the close of the week she died and was buried on the following Sunday.”
Wandering Through My Roots 