Old times in West Tennessee : reminiscences, semi-historic, of pioneer life and the early emigrant settlers in the Big Hatchie country, Part 12

Author: Williams, Joseph S
Publication date: 1873
Publisher: Memphis, Tenn. : W.G. Cheeney
Number of Pages: 610


USA > Tennessee > Old times in West Tennessee : reminiscences, semi-historic, of pioneer life and the early emigrant settlers in the Big Hatchie country > Part 12


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seemed to him that the burden of the discourse war specially directed at him. He rose again and scaned the members present. Finding none that he knew among his bluff associates, he sank upon his seat. The spirit of the white man's God had revealed to him the whole truth and he became Christian.


I boarded with "the best man in the world," old Father Wilson. The Reverend Hugh Wilson was a co-laborer with Mr. Holmes, as a missionary and teacher among the Chickasaws; his aim and object in teaching at the "Mountain" was to establish a " Manual Laboring School," the experiment failed, however, and he migrated to Texas.


My room-mate was a rising young man-a benne- ficiary scholar-under the auspices of the Presby, tery sent to the "Mountain," to be educated for the ministry. A pure, pious Christian was Andrew Allison, also a beneficiary, and boarded with father Wilson. Everybody loved Allison, and nobody loved my room-mate, yet he loved himself-the very embodiment of selfishness. Born so, he couldn't help it; ugly as home-made sin, yet he was vain enough to think himself handsome; that he was vain in that, I will put his picture in a frame, and the reader can judge.


In hight, he was under the average of men in that day, he might have been five feet five, with more body than legs, very square in the shoulders, with arms, when standing erect, reaching to the tops of his boot-legs, hands broader than a beaver's tail, with fingers like young "handspikes." Darwin


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would have selected him as a fair specimen of the "Origin of Man." His hair black and shiney, kept so by the profuse use of bears-greese; eyes small and likewise black, glistening like a chinquepin ; dark skin, thick and bumpy, with mouth and nose not unlike other people. Yet, his mouth had its expression more peculiar to himself than other peo- ple, lips rather thin, were long enough to lap over, but he had a way of sucking them in at the corners, as if they had been stained with molasses. But his foot, he wore a No. 11 brogan, being rights and lefts, the right shoe was a better fit on the left foot, as was the left shoe a better fit on the right foot. To wear them thus, the toes of his shoes didn't turn out any. He was rather inclined to be bow-legged and slightly pigeon-toed. Such is my recollection of the person of my friend and room-mate, while at the "Mountain Academy." He was sanctimoniously pious. Not much in sympathy with him, I was often the subject of a pious lecture from him. He rather took it upon himself to keep me in the "strait way," especially on Sabbath days. An incident occurred while we were pupils together, and dwell- ing in the same log-cabin, that gave me the mastery over him, and put an end to his pious lectures, greatly to my relief. Father Wilson and his good wife, with whom we boarded, were of the old "blue stocking" order. Nothing was allowed to be cooked on the Sabbath. Cold corn risen bread I abominated, besides two meals were rather short, even in the short days of early fall. The potato patch being convenient, I made out, without grumbling. My


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room-mate, like myself, was fond of roasted pota toes. The patch was very convenient. We had to pass through it in getting to the cabin, we occupied, and he was an expert grabbler. He had a quick eye in discovering the best hills. Circling bis long, "hand-spike" fingers around a well-filled bill. he would bring out a mess at a haul. On Sundays, however, he would neither grabble or eat, and lec- tured me for the "sin of the thing." I took bis lectures for what they were worth, roasting rather more on Sunday nights, to make up for the loss of my third meal.


It was the habit of my room-mate to spend his Sabbath evenings down at the house with Father Wilson and the family, seldom returing to the cabin until after prayers. One Sunday night I filled the fire full of potatoes, and walked up the hill to pay a visit to my eldest sister, who was likewise a pupil of Mr. Holmes, and boarded with him. My visit was necessarily cut short, to return and look after my potatoes. When nearing the cabin, I discovered some one through the cracks of the logs stiring ip the fire. I quickened my pace, reaching the door, I shoved it wide open, and who should it be but my pious room-mate, from whom I expected a moral lecture for violating the Sabbath day. IIe had taken out one of my best yams, (having smoothed the ashes over the remaining ones), and was in the act of blowing the ashes off of it as I stepped in.


"Halloo!" says I, "you here ? Is prayers over?" Ile had began to squirm and twist himself around in the chair. Replying to me, he whined out (it


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was his habit to droll out his words), and said that he was "feeling bad-that he had a sorter griping." His discomforture was so great, that I began to feel for him, and rattle away some nonsense or other. In the meantime he was squirming as though in pain, while shoving my yam down into his breeches pocket. It soon' began to burn beyond his endur- ance, when he rose, and made a quick move for the door, the steam rising from the smoking-hot yam, as he made his exit. I called to him to "hold on, I would go to prayers with him." Pulling my pota- toes out on the hearth, I leaped out of the door, and followed him, keeping so close that he could make no disposition of his hot tormentor. It was terrible on him. Tight pants were then the style. He had on his best Sundays. The tights kept his burning companion close up to his skin. On he went leaning to it, until we reached the house, and opening the door, we found the family making pre- paration for prayers. We sank down in the nearest chairs, when Father Wilson called on Allison to read. During the reading, my room-mate was very restless, twisting about in his seat, attracting the attention of Mother Wilson. My frame of mind was greatly in sympathy with his suffering-won- dering whether he could get his frame of mind in the straight way by the time the reading was through with, as he surely would be called on to pray. The sacred book closed; we all went down upon our knees, and he was called on to pray. I never before heard him pray so well; he prayed hard and earnest for all sinful flesh-for us not to be


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tempted; that we should not hunger after that which was forbidden, dwelling long upon the total depravity of man. As he warmed up the potatoes cooled down. I had forgiven him-he had merited for- giveness, and I freely forgave him in that, that never let him know that I had caught him in, an ashey trick. The joke was too good to be kept from Allison.


The first camp-meeting held in that part of the country was in the course of preparation, in the Clopton settlement, some six miles from the " Mountain." I may be permitted to make myself the hero, in showing off the fashion and style of dress, as well as a ridiculous mishap, forming an in- cident in real life.


It was seldom that I missed going to a big meet- ing or a ball, when in reach of me. To this camp- meeting I was bound to go. It came to my knowl edge that a party from Randolph would be there, with whom a certain young lady would surely come which greatly increased my anxiety to go. It was about the time for me to get a new suit of clothes, To get them made, and in time for the camp-meeting I went into Covington two weeks before hand, and ordered them, resolving to be in the tip and hight of the fashion. I went to Bill McGaughey, a fashion- able young tailor. Bill had just received his fall fashions-the latest styles from New York and Philadelphia. He was a very fine artist in the way of getting up a good fit. I was well shaped for eighteen-stood six feet in silk stockings and dance ing pumps. Only lacking in flesh, Bill and myself


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were the same size to a button. He always wore fine fitting clothes of his own make, illustrative of the style, as well as the art he had attained in his trade. He took my measure for coat, vest and pants. The cloth for the suit, with full trimmings, buck- rum and buttons, with black silk velvet for the collar, was sent to his shop. The cloth for the coat, brown; style, frock; coming down to the knees; vest, buff casimere, with bright gilt buttons; and pants, pongee silk, lavender color.


The handsome young professor of the "goose" and I were good friends. He promised me a good fit, and in time for the camp-meeting. I returned to the "Mountain," well pleased with myself and the rest of mankind.


The time having elapsed for my suit to be ready, I went in for it. They were ready, and I tried them on. The fit was charming. Bill had added another leaf to his laurels for being the best-fitting tailor in town.


The coat set well upon my square shoulders; the tail full, and coming well down to the knees, with its high double-breasted rolling collar. The pants were in the tip of the style-tights-fitting tight as the skin from the knees up-increasing in looseness down to the foot; buttoned down with broad straps. The vest of a light buff cassimere, with fancy gilt buttons-buttoned up to the throat. I felt that none would be at the camp-meeting better dressed or more in the style, and was all axiety to be on the ground. My friend Bill put them up in a neat parcel, and I returned to the "Mountain." I was


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up the next morning bright and early. I had prof cured a horse from Elder Lynn, and borrowed! Father Wilson's saddle.


The riding on horse back six or more miles! in my pongees troubled me, lest they should become soiled. I had wrapped the stirrup-leathers. and lengthened them out, to keep from bending my. knees, as much as possible. In prim trim I was ready to mount. The horse was a tall one. Find ing it difficult to bend the knee, I sought a stump, vaulted into the saddle and road away at a rapid pace, to keep ahead of the crowd. An hour's ride brought me in sight of the smoke and bustle of the camp- grounds. The site had been well selected in the heart of the forest; the undergrowth grubbed. out the young trees trimmed up, and avenues opened. Every possible attention had been given to render the grounds pleasant and inviting. It seemed ag though everybody was there. For hundreds of yards around the stand every available bush and hitching place had been appropriated.


Riding around to find a safe place for hitching and a convenient log or stump to aid me in disk mounting, I came upon the carriages and vehicles of the Randolph party. By accident I had fallen into the company of friends and acquaintances. My horse was taken in charge, and an invitation to make the carriages my headquarters. I was not long in finding out that Miss C. was of the party. My feelings were ixexpressible- in a maze of delight at my good luck. . Either I was in love, or I was not; I felt that I was. And if I was not, it was all the


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same as if it were a veritable fact. I had met her before, and not always "by chance." The last time we met was at a ball, and we danced together more than once, and twice in succession; and, wearied not of each other. It had not taken a seri- ous shape, however. I had only played upon the surface. Yet I was within a stride of deep water. I soon learned that the field was not alone to me; a rival was upon the ground in close attendance. IIe was a dangerous one; for he was rich, beside he had wit, and was most agreeable. But he was old in years-double my age; yet he was good look- ing and tall; only a little ball on the top of his head, with flowing black locks. He looked best with his hat on.


I felt my youth, and never was more proud of it. I was vain enough to think it would eventuate to my advantage. I feared only his riches. She, like myself, was young and ardent. It was most natural for young people to love one another. We soon met; he joked me about her, and complimented my tailor. I was pleased and flattered. I became bold, and felt like "taking the bull by the horns." I was in love. The ladies of the party were up at the stand. We walked leisurely to join them. They were grouped together on the outskirts of the stand. A glancing look told me that her eyes were upon us. Casting my eyes down upon my pongees, and adjusting my coat collar, I left my old bachelor friend and rival, and moved with the elasticity of vain youth and joined the party. She was the belle and center of attraction in the little circle. Young,


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blithe and fresh, gay and frolicsome as a sportive lamb of a May morning, tall and most bewitchingly shaped, with clusters of bright, gloosy light-brown hair falling around her broad white forehead, long lashes, a shade darker, fringing over the purest blue eye, large and clear, reflecting a generous, loving nature-the very soul of love. Voice rich, full and musical as it fell from her choral lips; with her silvery laugh she was perfectly irresistible. Every feature of her young, loving face in unison with a soul born to love, scintillated a pleasurable hope, as I walked up and clasped her soft, ungloved hand with a warm and impressive shake, a gleam of affectionate pleasure lighted up her countenance, assuring me that our greeting was agreeable-that she yet remembered when last we danced together.


It was yet an hour before the noon service would begin. I suggested a stroll in the grove, offering my arm (quite a fashion in those days). Taking it, she expressed her. delight that the opportunity offered by which she could escape the gaze of sò many new faces. Passing near my old batchelor friend and rival, who yet remained where I had left him, and who had been a " looker-on," a furtive glance came from under his dark brows. We passed on in a sportive manner and talk, regardless of the consequent remarks of the lookers-on, or the curious inquisitive, until we reached the carriages of the party. Entering the one she had came up in, we were alone to ourselves. Counting not the joy- ous, happy moments (hours were as but moments to ns), we were alone until the hour for noon service


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to begin, in a delirium of delight and love-joyous as a loving dream, until the spell was broken by voices nearing the carriage. Several ladies and gentlemen of the party, including my rival, came up. Torelieve the situation, which, by their approach, had become a little embarrassing and to show off the agility of youth I made a spring, leaping a dozen or more feet, lighting in a hard place, turning my ankle; my knees gave way, and in the effort to re- cover my feet my pongees gave way-bursted from knees to hip; naught saving my utter exposure but the long-tail brown. My chagrin was inexpressible, Making the best of an hour's love and triumph, I slept with my room-mate that night. 9


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CHAPTER IX.


Randolph in Old Times-Its Better Days-Lost the Chance of Becoming a City-Spirit of Internal Improve- ment of that Day-Early Settlers-First Newspaper in the County-The Murrell Excitement-Expedition to Shawne Villagee.


RANDOLPH, at the period it is the purpose of this chapter to introduce to the reader, was the most flourishing business river town in West Tennessee, on the Mississippi. It was the "receiving and for- warding" town for Tipton, Haywood, Fayette, Madison, and Hardeman. Eligibly situated imme- diately below the mouth of the Big Hatchie, which was navigable for small steamboats as high up as Bolivar, it received a considerable trade from the counties east of Madison and Hardeman.


Had the project of connecting the waters of the Tennessee river with the Hatchie, as was suggested by a few enterprising men of that day, and recom- mended by Governor Cannon in his annual mes- sage to the Legislature, been carried into effect, the whole trade and trafic of North Alabama and the Tennessee valley would have fallen into the lap of Randolph, and Memphis would have remained a "village at the mouth of Wolf" for an indefinite num- ber of years. The age of progress, however, was yet in the womb of time. The political prejudice of


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the day was, for the most part, averse to projects of internal improvement. For the life and trade of Randolph, it happened to be in the infant days of Democracy, when the minds of the people were be- ing educated in the doctrine of "strict construc- tion." The Southern bias was taking root, Jack- son, Clay, Crawford and Adams giving shape to new parties founded upon the economic manage- ment of the government. Mr. Monroe, then Presi- dent, had elaborated the subject of the power of Congress to grant aid and foster works of internal improvement, and took grounds against it. The few enterprising men in the Big Hatchie country had their appetites sharpened by the success and popularity of the subject along the northern lakes, where canals were being cut. The great Clinton, of the State of New York, had taken the "bull by the horns," and practically demonstrated the utility and advantage of such public work. With like feelings and enlarged views, they regarded the example a a good one, and sought to apply it to the develop- ment of their own section. It was no go, however. The strict-construction and economic party thought nature ought to take its course. They thought it best to permit the Tennessee river to continue to roll on in her transverse course, washing the shores of a higher latitude, and entering the Mis- sissippi, with the waters of the Ohio, two hundred miles above the mouth of the Big Hatchie.


As a specimen of the narrow views to which the people were being trained and educated in those days, in reference to works of a public character,


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the proposition for the construction of a post-road from opposite Memphis to Little Rock, amply illus- trates, and is referred to as a part of the history of "Old Times."


Among the many communications to the press of that period, I copy the following from the Jackson Gazette, a newspaper published in Jackson in 1826. It purports to be from the pen of one of the lead- ing men of that day. It begins thus :


" MR. PRINTER-In looking over the last week's Gazette, I notice, with astonishment and surprise, that Congress has ordered a road to be cut, at public expense, from the Village of Memphis, better known as the Chickasaw Bluffs, on the Mississippi river, to Little Rock, in Arkansas territory. The making of this new proposed road will cost the United States an immense sum of money, and little or no good will result from it except it will be to hold out the idea that Memphis, like the famed city after which it is named, is conspicious upon the general plan of the map of our State-an Indian trading post, at most, insulated from Tennessee. The minds of the people have become heated and intoxicated upon the subject of internal improvement. This mania for in- ternal improvement, I fear, will never rest until dt has caused the United States Treasury to be disgorged of her last shilling. There are, in my opinion, such things as national sins, and though punishment to individuals may be reserved to another world, national punishment can only be inflicted in this. The evils we are suffering must be put an end to.".


Now, reader, what think you was the amount ap-


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propriated by Congress, out of the United States Treasury, toward cutting the proposed road? To be exact, it was eleven thousand six hundred and seventy-four dollars and eighteen and three quarter cents. So Randolph, after holding Memphis in check for fifteen or more years, lost her only chance of becoming a city-the largest commercial city in West Tennessee.


The removal of the Chickasaw Indians west of the Mississippi river, and consequent bringing into cultivation the rich and fertile lands of North Mississippi, facilitated the birth of the era of rail- roads to Memphis, and Randolph waned. As Mem- phis prospered Randolph declined, until her mer- chants and business men drifted with the current of prosperity, and landed at/ the mouth of Wolf. Bayless, Bowles, Smithers, Stewart, Laurence, Steel, Booker, Temple, Latham, and many others, who did business under the bluff at Randolph, changed the heading of their ledgers, and posted in their earnings from the bluff at 'Memphis. Ran- dolph as it was, is now only in name, and lives alone in the history of "Old Times in the Big Hatchie Country."


The rich and fertile table lands in the vicinity of Randolph early attracted men of wealth and intel- ligence. Among the first was


JESSEE BENTON,


who settled below Randolph, on the Mississippi, before 1824, as in that year we find him a candidate on the Presidential electoral ticket as a Crawford elector. Memphis was the nearest postoffice. Im-


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placable, with singularly strong personal prejudice, he became a law unto himself, and soon migrated, when menaced by settled neighborhoods, to a more frontier country-Texas. Uncompromising in his personal predilections and opinions, it is said that he was inexorable in his enmity toward his brother Thomas II., and General Jackson. Many incidents illustrative of his character are remembered, the following, possibly, the strongest: He had entrusted a lot of stock to an individual in whom he had con- fidence, to take to Louisiana and sell. Upon his return, he reported that he had been robbed on his way back, of the money. Benton rejected his story, and required that he produce the money or suffer such torture as he thought fit to inflict upon him. He still vowed that he had been robbed. The im- plaçable Benton did not, or feigned not to believe, and ordered his overseer, with several negro men. to take him across the river to an island and box him up in a certain hollow tree, and there to be kept, without food and water, until he disgorged or told the truth about the money. They did as he commanded-dared not do otherwise. After several days he went over to receive his confession, making the negroes take a cross-cut saw along. The hollow tree afforded just room enough for his victim to stand upright. In that position he had been kept more than three days. Finding that he could not starve him out (for he still held to his same story), he ordered a couple of negro fellows to take hold of the saw and saw the tree down. To work they went, the saw soon cutting its way into the hollow.


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The delinquent, finding it was Benton's intention not only to saw the tree down but to saw him into, cried out, as soon as the sharp teeth began to menace his flesh, to hold on, that he would tell all the truth. With a most pitiable wail for his life, he told that he had gone into a gambling house in New Orleans and lost all his own money, and in trying to get it back he had staked up Benton's money, and lost that, and had to work his passage back, etc. Ben- ton, believing that he had gotten the whole truth out of the fellow, spared his life. In the meantime courts had been organized in the county, and the matter got before the grand jury.


Orvil Shelby, a generous, kind-hearted, genial companion and neighbor, became the owner of, and fixed his place of residence upon, the "Benton place," and contributed to the interest and advance- ment of society in and around Randolph. The


ALSTONS,


in whose veins coursed the best blood of the "Old North State," established a large plantation several miles back, and became, by their native courtesy and good manners, an acquisition to the society of the village and vicinity. They owned two of the best fiddlers the followers of Terpsichore ever danced after-Jim and Ossian-father and son. They were the pupils of the celebrated North Carolina violinist, Iley Nunn. They played at all the balls in the county, and were often sent for to play at Jackson and Brownsville.


Colonel Tom Robertson lived a happy life "up on the hill," the "latch-string" of whose door was


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always on the outside. Generous and most hospi- table, full of anecdote and passionately fond of a good joke, he entertained gloriously. One good laugh of his would dispel the ennui of the village,


FRANK LATHAM


was the pioneer newspaper man of Tipton. He early settled at Randolph, and published the Ran- dolph Record, a "rich, rare and spicey" little sheet, whose editor was most excellent good company. Noted for his lively, personal character, with a genial smile always upon his ruddy face, without blemish in the " social," he was a welcome guest in every house- hold. Life with Frank Latham, in "old times," was ever in the merry sunshine. He yet enjoys life in the shade of venerable years.


Randolph came in for her share of the Murrell. excitement, prevalent in those days. The "Murrell Clan" were not myths; they were veritable men of extraordinary boldness and daring. They counted their numbers by hundreds, and ranged from the; Walnut Hills, at the mouth of the Yazoo, to the mouth of the Big Hatchie. They held their "Grand Council" in the deep, dark woods of the Mississippi bottom, in Aakansas, twelve or more miles below. Randolph and some six miles from the river, near Shawnee Village. The writer yet retains a lively recollection of the many scenes and incidents of that thrilling and eventful period. Robbery, theft and murder occupied and filled the minds and en- gaged the attention of the people from Vicksburg. to New Madrid. It was the theme in the quiet family circle, as well as public talk, and the subject




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