When I walked into Tennessee toward Nashville I met many who were moving to it's surrounding (newly built, opulent) suburbs from other parts of the nation.
The New Gentry.
The last day in the eastern hills I visited, on the porch, with the old gentry. They told me how their forefather was awarded the land after service in "The War". The formula was simple. As far as you can ride in a day, thats how much land they got.
This was true also for the cousin on the other side of the conflict, who lived a days ride away. Most had sold off their holdings, or lost them over time.
This modest family still held most of this original acreage with hard work and determination. But they have become burdened increasingly by taxes, due to lack of growing industry and other tax-bases, in this beautiful mountain country. Leaving the tick attached to the back of the old horse.
The Old Gentry.