H^wnttt BY MRS. HARRIET PARKS MILLER UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA cnnitj BOOK CARD Please keep this cord h book pocket ■o . . I CJ l•> i^Jlb^^ J< iM^^^B 'Riverside;" home of the late E. L. Fort. own was awakened, and the right kind of white people were ready, and willing, to lend them a helping hand. Among the first to lead substan- tially in this direction, in Montgomery county, was Dr. P. F. Norfleet, of Port Royal. Brief sketch of this fine old gentleman: Dr. Philip Ford Norfleet was born in the early part of the past century, at his father's homestead on the Nashville road, one and a half miles south of Port Royal. In later years the place was known as the Dr. J. T. Darden farm. In his early twenties he was sent to a medical college, and was later on considered one of the best physicians of his day. He was a charter member of Harmony Mis- sionary Baptist Church, organized in 1835, and while it was said of him, that he sowed his share of wild oats in early life, after joining the church he doubled his diligence in good works. He was married during his twenties, to Miss Elvira Hopson, and several children blessed their union. He was a man of wealth, owning a large cotton plantation near Friar's Point, Mississippi, to which he made annual trips on horseback, usually at crop selling time, and returning with vast sums of money. Not caring to risk the health of his large and 25 happy family, in the malarial districts of the Mississippi swamps, he made his home at Port Royal. The original Norfleet residence, with few excep- tions, remains intact, and is at present owned and occupied by Mr. W. E. Alley, a prosperous farmer, and substantial citizen of Montgomery county. For the benefit of his family. Dr. Norfleet kept a number of efficient servants. Among them two very refined house maids, Kitty Hopson and Adeline Norfleet; Frank, the carriage driver; Mary, the cook, and Louis, a roustabout. Of these, only one survive, Adeline, who in her old age, finds no greater pleasure than in talking of her white people. Although the Norfleets were the acknowledged aristocrats of the country, they were also benevo- lent to a marked degree. Apropos of their liberality, I deem it not amiss to mention the case of Ed and Fronie Hawkins, a very unique, feeble minded couple of white people, who lived in a small one-room log cabin, near Turners ville, in Robertson county, and sub- sisted mainly on charity. Mr. Hawkins, familiarly known as "Old Ed," was a tall, lank figure, with a shock of long sandy hair, that hung in strings around his neck, while 26 his sallow complexion and deep set small blue eyes, completed the make-up of an unattractive personality. Fronie, his dumpy dame, in point of height, measured very little above her husband's slender waist. She had small brown eyes, fair com- plexion, and an abundant suit of coarse red hair, which she wore in a massive club, or coil, at the nape of her neck, held in place by a rusty horn tuck comb. About three times a year, they made begging trips to Port Royal, Dr. Norfleet's home being their objective point. Fronie would generally start a few days in advance of her husband, in order to get her charity donations together. He would follow later, and help carry them home. Dr. Norfleet wore white linen suits in summer^ and on one occasion, gave Fronie a second hand suit for Ed. Dr. Norfleet was tall, and his pants legs were long, so she conceived the idea of packing her donations in the legs of those he had given her. She sewed up the legs at the bottom, put a stout loop on the back of the binding at the top, and hung her improvised receptacle on a hook behind the office door; everything that was given to her, 27 she dropped it down the pants legs — sugar, coffee, second-hand clothes, chunks of meet, etc., all in a jumble. When they were well nigh full, she began to wish for Mr. Hawkins. He came at last, and she led him to look behind the door. He was delighted, and scarcely taking time to rest from his journey of six miles on a warm day, he placed the well stuffed pants astride his neck, and struck out up the Nashville road, without even bidding Dr. Norfleet's family good bye. Fronie followed close at his heels, holding by the legs, in her right hand, a fine fat pair of Mus- covy ducks, Mrs. Norfleet had given her. On passing Mr. William Brown's residence, just up the road, Mr. Brown's son, Robert, happened to be at the front gate; young Robert Bourne had a keen sense of humor, and their ludicious appear- ance threw him into such a fit of laughter that he rolled over and. over on the ground. But the Hawkins's kept straight ahead, bound for Turners vi lie before sunset, but they were doomed to an unexpected delay. The ducks grew heavy, and Fronie set them down by the roadside to rest her tired arm. It happened that she stopped at the head of the ten-foot deep gully, just beyond the old Mallory homestead, where the old Harmony 28 Church road branched off to the right from the niain Nashville route. The ducks set to fluttering, and tumbled down the embankment and into the gully, breaking the string that held them together. Ed flew into a rage, because she let, them get away, and swore he'd whip her on the spot, if she did not catch them. She chased them up and dowm the gully till she was almost exhausted, when a passing fishing party came to her assist- ance. The late George Washington's family con- tributed liberally to the support of this couple, and in speaking of the Washington home, Fronie always referred to it as "the fat house," meaning rich people. The young people of Port Royal neighborhood, spent many pleasant times in years gone by, masquerading in comic costumes, as Ed and Fronie Hawkins. They were known far and wide, as a very amusing couple, but when old age came to them, and the liberal friends who had kept "the wolf from their cabin door" had passed away, it became necessary for them to be carried to the county poor house, and from there, I'm sure, their innocent souls went straight to heaven. 29 CHAPTER IV. WHO OF US CAN SAY, WHICH IS FAIRER, THE VISIONS OF HOPE, OR MEMORY'' THE ONE MAKES ALL THINGS POSSIBLE, THE OTHER MAKES ALL THINGS REAL." In the holy hush of that September afternoon, Aunt Kitty told me of a vision that she had, during the middle 60's. It was my last talk with her, and she seemed SO impressed with the memory of it, that she laid aside her peach peeling, and gave her mind, and soul, to the subject so dear to her heart. She said: "Some people call them dreams, but I call them visions. Ever since God spoke peace to my soul, I had prayed for religious liberty for my people; so great was my desire in this par- ticular direction, that it seemed as a heavy weight that was bowing me down. "But one night, about midnight, the burden seemed to be lifted from me. The deep darkness drifted away, and it seemed that the sun shone 30 everywhere, and in a certain direction, I saw a long grassy slope stretch far away before me. "I could not tell at first, what it meant, for I saw nothing but space. By and by, a small tab.e appeared, and seemed to come nearer and nearer. "I looked away, and wondered, and then I looked again, and a Bib't was on the table. "The third time I cast my eyes, lo and behold! there stood my old man behind the table, the Bible was open, and he was slowly reading from its sacred pages! "Miss Harriet, this may all sound very strange to you, but that vision was as plain to me, as the sight of you, sitting here before me. "The old man had been working away from home all the week, so I got up next morning and went about my daily duties without telling my children what I had seen. "Saturday night he came home, and after hold- ing family prayers, and everything was quiet about the house, I told him of my vision — and listen, oh, it was joy to my soul! He told me that Dr. Norfleet wanted us to have a place of worship, and that he was willing to give us land on which to build a church, about an acre, on the hillside, between Mr. Bourne's spring and Sulphur Fork Creek. And he said that many 31 other white friends would give lumber, and small sums of money. "Miss Harriet, we re^oiced together that Satur- day night, as we never had before. We had been reaching our feeble arms toward Heaven a long time, pleading for the blessing that was now in sight." Thirty odd years had passed, and a new genera- tion had come, but the flight of time only served to sweeten the sound of her story. As I bade her good bye, I was deeply conscious that I would never see her again, for she was growing too feeble to leave home, and I drove off, feeling spiritually benefitted from contact with such a Christian character as Aunt Kitty Carr. One Autumn afternoon in ISO?, a large crowd of the best colored people of Port Royal and surrounding neighborhoods, assembled on the hill- side where Mount Zion now stands, and organized the church. Elder Horace Carr was assisted in the organiza- tion by Revs. Chess Ware and Ben Thomas, of Guthrie, Ky. Elder Carr stood under a large white, oak tree, and led in the movement, while his hearers sat around on rails, logs, stumps, etc. It was a movement destined to mean much to the colored people of Robertson "and Montgomery 32 ^^J/^^^^fl' Mount Zioii, Colored Baptist Church, near Port Roval. Tennessee. counties. Located as it was, near the county line, its membership was composed largely of both counties, but since then, other churches have sprung up, and many of the Mount Zion members joined those nearer their homes. Alfred Pitt (col.) took the contract for building the first house of worship. It was 30x30 feet, and erected in a very short time. Most of the white citizens of the neighborhood contributed either lumber or small amounts of money, and when the crude little building appeared on the hillside, all eyes turned to Uncle Horace, as the good shepherd to lead the little flock of seventy odd miembers. This first church building, was also used for a school-room, in which was taught one of the first colored schools in Middle Tennessee, during what was termed the "Reconstruction Period;" in other words, the years immediately following the Civil War, when both races were adjusting them- selves to the changed conditions brought about by the emancipation of the slaves. This school was taught by Miss Denie Sims, a nice, refined young woman from Clarksville, Tenn., who conducted not only herself, but her school, so well, that she was highly esteemed by both white and colored people of Port Royal neigh- borhood. The first building being too small to accommo- date the congregations that rapidly increased in numbers, it was torn away after standing two or three years, and replaced by one of 36x40 feet. This stood five years, and was burned at night by unknown parties. Circumstantial evidence pointed strongly to certain people, but there was no positive proof. After the excitement, incident to such an occurrence, had subsided, Uncle Horace gathered together a portion of his little flock, and cautioned them to say no harsh words, that all would be well, for he felt that the good people who had assisted them before, would do so again, and they would rebuild. They rebuilt on the same founda- tion, and all went right for a few years, or, until a band of colored gamblers became a menace to law, and order. So bold did they grow in their wickedness, that one night they actually gambled in front of the church door, from the same light that guided the good minister in reading the Gospel from the sacred desk! It was more than the Christian congregation could stand, and strenuous measures were taken against the offenders. That same week Mount Zion again went up in flames, but faith, and persistency', are Life's architects, and the fourth building was erected, 34 and there it stands today, a monument to the courage of a faithful few. For the benefit of those who would hke to know the charter members of Mount Zion Church, I give below a list of their names; true it is, a few may have been overlooked, but in the main, they are as follows: Sydney Allen. Rev. Horace Carr. Kitty Carr. Horace Carr, Jr. Rev. Althens Carr. Lucinda Carney. Sylvia Came}'. Easter Carney. Isaac Carney. Aleck Carney. Ann Dunn. Judy Fort. Margaret Fort. Charlotte Fort. Katie Fort. George Francis Fort. Jim Fort. Peggy Fort. Rev. John Fort. Daniel Fort. Sampson Fort. Henry Fort. Frank Fort. Sarah Grant. John Grant. Bear John Grant. Nelson Grant. Vinie Grant. Wallace Gaines. Maria Gaines. Phil Gaines. Dennis Gaines. Martha Gaines. Clarissa Gaines. Malachi Gaines. Eliza Gaines. Eliza Holmes. Waddy Herring. Sallie Ann Herring. Rachel Izor. Sam Izor. Mark Mitchell. 35 Patsy McGowan. John McGowan. Martha Newton. Sookey Northington. Vinie Northington. CaroUne Northington. William Northington. Jack Northington. Angelina Northington. Seely Northington. Chaney Northington. Elijah Northington. Louisanna Northington. Bettie Northington. With few exceptions, Dennis Northington. Rebekah Northington. Allen Northington. Neptune Northington. George Northington. Sam Northington. Almira Northington. Betsy Neblett. Kitty Norfleet. Adeline Norfleet. Rildy Polk. Lucy Parks. Demps Wimberly. Delphi W^aters. nearly all of the above charter members had been m^embers of Red River and Harmony churches before the Civil War. Scarcely a dozen of them remain with us in the flesh. During its forty-four years' existence, Mount Zion has had the following pastors: Rev. Horace Carr. Rev. Altheus Carr. Rev. Edmond Northington Rev. Paul Dennis. Rev. George Mimms. Rev. Turner Parish. Rev. M. Fox. 36 Rev. L. Jones. Rev. A. J. Moore, D. D. Of the original Deacons, only one is alive, Aleck Carney, the other six in active service are: Dan Fort. George Fort. Demps Fort. Albert Steward. Wright Watkins. Will Randolph. It is a noticeable fact, that the second and third generations of some of Mount Zion's charter members, are at present among its best workers; as for example. Rev. John Fort's son Dan, and grandson George, upon whose shoulders a father's religious mantle has fallen. Soon after the donation of land by Dr. Norfleet for Mount Zion Church, Mr. William Bourne, on an adjoining farm, gave land for a colored ceme- tery. Mr. Bourne was a citizen of fine standing. He was the son of Ambrose Bourne, a prominent pioneer Baptist minister. By strange coincidence. Rev. Ambrose Bourne helped organize Red River Church, 1791, within a few hundred yards of where Mount Zion now stands. Red River is one of the oldest Baptist churches 87 in Tennessee, and the Bourne Spring at that date, was called Prince's Spring, and the little log church building was known as Prince's meeting house. After its removal to Robertson county it took its name from its nearness to Red River. In the early days most of the churches took their names from the streams nearest which they were located, as Spring Creek, West Fork, Red River, etc. Rev. Horace Carr named the church he loved so well, from the New Testament. Hebrews 12: 22, in which Moses said, "But ye are come unto Mount Zion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem." etc. 38 CHAPTER V. THE MAN WHO SPEAKS, MAY, IF HIS MESSAGE IS GREAT ENOUGH, AND GREATLY DELIVERED, RANK ABOVE THE RULERS OF HIS TIME." It seems that a love for the ministry, was inherent in the Carr family, and it is also a notice- able fact, that few, if any of them, have departed from the Baptist faith; beginning with Uncle Horace, and descending to his two sons, Altheus and William, on down to his grandson. Rev. Thomas Carr, of Kansas, son of the late Calvin Carr, of Cheatham county. Altheus, the fourth son of Uncle Horace, and Aunt Kitty, was born near Port Royal, Tenn., in the early SO's. He was obedient to his parents from his early childhood. While a day laborer on the farms around Port Royal, he manifested a thirst for knowledge, and while his plow team rested their noon hours rest, he was not idle. He could be seen lying around 39 under the shade trees, either with a book in his hand or a pencil and paper. By saving his wages, and receiving financial aid from friends, he was enabled to take a theo- logical course at Fisk's University, Nashville, Tenn. He was a negro of commanding appearance, and polite address, and after the death of his father, September, 1877, he was pastor of Mount Zion Church continuously for nine years. In his early twenties he was married to Miss Lou Gaines, daughter of Aunt Eliza Gaines, of whom I shall speak later. After his marriage, he purchased five acres of land adjoining the Mount Zion lot, on which he built a comfortable three room cottage. It was here that he and his thrifty wife raised a large and interesting family of seven daughters, all of whom died young. In his cottage he had his private study, in which he prepared some very able sermons, and after he thought he had his subjects well in hand, he often went to a valley near his home, on Sulphur Fork Creek, and delivered them, with the fine old elms and sycamores his silent listeners. His funeral orations were hard to beat, several of which I had the pleasure of hearing. The first being that of William Northington, the trusted 40 foreman for years on Miss Ellen Yates' farm. William was highly esteemed as a colored citizen of the community, and Miss Ellen sent out for her white friends to attend his funeral. They occupied seats on the back porch, while the colored congregation sat under the shade of the tall locust trees, and listened with rapt attention. After taking his text, and making a few appro- priate introductory remarks, he quoted effectively from Longfellow's Psalm of Life: "Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums are beating Funeral marches to the grave." William and Jack Northington were brothers, owned by Mr. Henry Northington, one of the pioneer settlers of Middle Tennessee. Mr. Northington was a large slave owner, and not needing William and Jack on his farm, he kept them hired out. After they were freed, they said, "We will go back to the old home, and help take care of Mars Henry the remainder of his days," and they did. Mr. Northington died June, 1877, but they still stayed on the old plantation, working as long as they lived for Miss EUe'n Yates, Mr. Northington's adopted niece. 41 Two summers later, August, 1883, I heard him preach the funeral of Aunt Lucy Parks North- ington. For several years before her death, Aunt Lucy had cooked for Mrs. Lawson Fort. She had been a faithrul servant in the Dancy, Parks, and Fort families all her life, originally belonging to William E. Dancy, of Florence, Ala. She was beloved by her white people, who ten- derly cared for her during the last two years of her life, in which she was unable to work. And when the last sad rites were to be paid her remains, her casket was placed on the front gallery of the pretty Fort home; white friends sat in the parlor and sitting room; the colored congregation occu- pied seats leading from the steps to the front gate. As Rev. Altheus Carr stood at the head of the casket, and 'neath the shadows of the imposing columns of that old colonial home, it was a scene to touch the tendercst chord of a Southern heart. On the casket was a wreath of vSpider lillies, that grew in a valley near the cabin home of the deceased, when she lived at the old Parks homestead near Port Royal. Every sum- mer, for years, she had admired that lily bed at blooming time, and the writer remembered it. He took for his text, "Well done good and faithful servant," etc., and started out by saying: "The nearness of this casket to the mansion door, 42 and the pure white liUies that shed their fragrance over the heart that is forever still, attest the truth of my text. Yes my hearers, this means some- thing. It speaks appreciation of a life, whose ending deserves more than a passing notice. "Sister Lucy Parks Northington was sixty-one years of age, and forty-one years of this long span of life were spent in the Master's vineyard. "She was a quiet worker, caring not for the praise of the world, but striving always to perform duties pleasing to the eye of Him who seeth in secret places. "Too well I know, that my feeble words can do but scant justice to the life of such a departed sister, but I feel like we should hold high the light of such lives, that others may follow their bright- ness. "My mother was often with Sister Lucy during her last days; they sang and prayed together, and she left every evidence that she was ready for the kingdom. "Her last night on earth, she said to the friends keeping watch, 'Sing to me, sing the good old songs of Zion.' No doubt, but she, like the saints of old, wanted music to charm her last on earth, and greet her first in heaven. "We shall miss her at the church she loved so well, but she has left her light on its altars, and i3 if we would see her again, let us find her footprints, and follow them. They have not been blotted out. We will find them leading from her doorway to those of affliction, to the church door, or wher- ever her gentle spirit was needed. "This quiet Summer's evening we will lay her tired body to rest on the hillside overlooking Red River; time for her is no more, but a home not made with hands, is hers to enjoy, though an endless Eternity." The service was concluded with a song and prayer, after which the orderly funeral procession passed up the lane, and on down to the colored graveyard, where so many of the Fort colored people have been laid to rest. There was a certain dignity and refinement about Rev. Altheus Carr that was noticeable, and which he manifested on occasions when white people attended his services. As for instance, at the large baptizings which followed his successful revivals, when the good singing was especially inspiring, several emotional members of his church were in the habit of shout- ing, and at times, they were noisy in their demon- strations. When he realized that they had reached a limit, he usually in an undertone, spoke some kind word of admonition. Often they understood a gesture from him, and 44 all would be quiet. He wielded a subtle influence over his people that was rennarkable. It is a fact worthy of mention, that only one member was publicly known to rebel at the new rules set up in Mount Zion church after his became its pastor. His father, during his nine years charge of the church, had accepted for his services only what the members saw fit to pay him. His idea being that God did not intend for a price to be set on the preaching of the Gospel. Neither did he advocate, or allow, church sup- pers as a means of raising funds for religious purposes. But the world moves, and church conditions forced his successors to adopt new methods. Altheus being the first to follow his father, was forced to have systematic means of raising church money, by assessing the members according to their supposed financial ability. Uncle Arter Northington, a reasonably prosperous colored tenant living on Mr. Felix Northington 's premises, was assessed $2.00. He thought it was too much, and appealed to his employer, in whose sense of right and justice he had great confidence. The latter told him he thought fifty cents would be enough. When the contribution box was handed round 45 on the next collection day, Uncle Arter dropped in his fifty cents. After preaching was over, Rev. Carr approached him privately, and quoted appropriately from Paul regarding certain reli- gious obligations. Uncle Arter was very black, very positive, and talked through his nose. Straightening himself up, he spoke defiantly, and said: "Brer Carr, I keers nothin' ' tall 'bout what Paul said. Mars Felix is smart enough for me ter go by, an he says fifty cents is plenty fer me ter pay, an that's all I'm gwine ter pay." The incident was related at the village store, and in a spirit of amusement some one exclaimed, "Hurrah for Paul!" and from that time on, till his death, twenty-five or thirty years afterwards. Uncle Arter was known far and wide as "Paul." 46 CHAPTER VI. "he had an ear that caught, and a memory that kept." Uncle Horace was spending several days in our neighborhood, filling a whitewashing contract. Red River was past fording; he worked till late, and did not wish to risk the ferry after dark, so he "took time about," as he called it, staying among the neighbors at night. The night he spent on my father's premises, 1 went after supper to Aunt Lucy's house in the back yard, and asked him to tell me of a corn shucking before the war. He drew his chair up near the door, and began as follows: "I think about the biggest corn shucking I ever went to was on Mr. Waters' farm, between Mr. Billie Weatherford's and Mr. John Powers'. Mr. Waters was a prosperous farmer, and a mighty fine man with it. "It was about the last of November, and the com was piled high in a lot back of the house. 47 I would suppose there were about fifty hands invited, white and colored. They went to work, and they worked, too, I tell you. "Old gray headed men were invited, not to work, mind you, but to sit off to themselves and talk over good old times. "The night was cool, and frosty, and a log fire was built for their benefit. What we called the best men of the county were there. Mr. Hatcher, Mr. Hiter, Mr. Wilcox, Mr. Thomas Shaw, Mr. John Powers, and Mr. Patrick McGowan. I remember Mr. McGowan and Mr. Shaw seemed to be particular friends. They came together and went away together. Mr. McGowan owned a yellow man named" John, and he could beat anybody there shucking corn; he could also find more red ears than any- body else, and would laugh the merriest laughs when he found them, for a red ear meant an extra dram, you know. Some of the hands accused him of bringing along a few from Mr. McGowan 's corn crib, but 1 hardly think that was true, for when it came to honesty, John was as straight as a shingle. "Charles, Mr. Waters' wagoner, was the heap walker that night. Always at corn shuckings they picked out somebody with a clear, good voice to sing, and made them the heap walker. 48 He walked over and around the com heap, and sang the com song. Somehow, the hands seemed to forget they worked, when they sang, the time passed so pleasantly. "Charles was what they called a quick witted smart fellow, and he could fit into his songs some of the funny sayings of the neighborhood, and make the people laugh amazingly. He would sing the verses alone, and the crowd would join in the chorus. The com song went like this: "Ginn erway de corn boys, ginn erway de com. Done come here ternight, fer ter ginn erway de com. ' Com, cor-n, cor-n, cor-n, com fer de Bell cow, com fer de mule. Ash cake fer de yaller gal, Dat make you all er fool. Corn, corn, com, dear old Marser's corn.' "Then the chorus went: 'Cor-n, cor-n, ginn erway de corn, Gwine ter shuck it all dis night, As sho's yer bor-n, bor-n.' "And bless your life, they were happy times, those good old corn shucking days before the war! Along about midnight, they changed up from the corn song to the dram song, and when that started up, the boys worked like steam 48 Engines. As well as I can remember, here's the way the dram song went : 'Dram, dram, little drop er dram sir, Dram, dram, fetch erlong de dram. Come, come, little Mister Whiskey, Nigger mighty thirsty, wants er little dram.' "When the corn pile was finished up, Mr. Waters took off his hat, made a polite bow, and thanked the hands for their good work. "Then he said: 'I'll give you something to warm up your throats,' and hands the big jug around; but he had good judgment, and would not give them enough to make them drunk. When the last one had taken his dram, John McGowan, that same active yellow man, and one of the Sale colored boys, caught Mr. Waters up on their shoulders, and away they went to the house with him, the hands following behind, singing thecorn song. They set him down on the front door steps. Mrs. Waters was out in the hall, and said she had not laughed as much sidce Christmas. We were invited out to the big log kitchen, and there on a long table was spread the feast of all feasts. Boiled ham, barbecued shoat, sweet potatoes, coffee, pumpkin pies, ginger cakes, and cider; and 50 when the supper was over, the young folks Ht in to dancing. I didn't care for dancing myself, so I sat around and talked to the sober-minded folks. "It was an old saying, that day must never break on a corn shucking feast, or bad luck would fall on the next one. So before we broke up, the boys took Mr. Waters on their shoulders three times around the house, to the music of a good bye song. Just now I can't exactly remember how that went, but it was a pretty tune. "When we scattered out, each one going to his home, some up the road, down the road, and across the fields, the frosty night air rang with 'Run, nigger run, patroler'l ketch you,' etc. "Of course I went to many other corn shucking frolics, but this one was the biggest I ever attended, not only this, but they had the best order I ever noticed. "Well I've told you about a corn shucking before the war, and the next time I come back I'll tell you of when the stars fell." "Tell me now," I said, "something may happen that you will not come again soon; its not late, and you will have time to tell part of it any way." He looked serious and said, "Well I was not to say sheered, but it was certainly a solemn 51 time! I was twenty-one years old when it hap- pened, and was sleeping up stairs in a cabin on Miss Nancy Carr's farm. A pitiful noise waked me, and I bounced up and run down, and the wood-pile in front of the cabin door was full of stars ! "I said, 'signs and wonders in the heavens" "Mr. Bob Bellamy, from Kentucky, was work- ing at Miss Nancy's, and he seemed to think it was funny, the way the colored people prayed and shouted, thinking judgment day was at hand. We could hear them praying at Mr. Riah Grant's home, as plain as if they were in our yard. "Brother Martin Grant was a colored preacher, and a mighty good man; he tried to reason with them, and told them they were in the hands of the Lord, and He would deal right with them. "The white folks did not seem to be much excited. The very religious ones prayed in secret, but they made no great noise ; the excitement was mostly among the colored people, and the ignorant white folks. "After daybreak, and it began to get light, the stars on the ground grew dim, and got dimmer, and dimmer, till the sun came up and they could not be seen at all. An old Colored man living down on the Clarksville road rejoiced when he saw the sun rise, and said, 'Thank God, I know 52 the world is all right now, for the sun is rising in the same place!' "1 think Brother Robin Northington (at that time a young man belonging to Mr. David North- ington) made more noise than any colored person in the neighborhood. In his young days he was inclined to be wild, and when he thought judgment day had found him unprepared, it was time to make a noise. "It always seemed strange to me that Brother Robin was so late coming into the church. He was eighty odd, when he joined Mount Zion last year." * * * * * * * The writer witnessed Uncle Robin's baptism in Sulphur Fork Creek, near Mount Zion Church; there were eighty candidates for baptism, and Uncle Horace had his son Altheus to perform the sacred rite. On account of Uncle Robin's advanced age, and a very remarkable experience he had related the day he joined the church, he seemed to be a central figure of the occasion, and all eyes were turned on him, as he stood trembling at the water's edge, pleading, "Now Brer Carr, be per- ticular, and dont you droun me!" "Be quiet Brother Northington," he said in his 5^ characteristic dignified tone, "by the help of the Lord I will take you safely through; Brother Edwards and Brother Baldry are here to assist me and you need not fear." It was soon over, and his nervousness gave place to rejoicing. I don't think I ever heard sweeter singing than went up from hundreds of colored worshippers on the hillsides surrounding Mount Zion Church, that lovely Sabbath morning, October, 1875. U CHAPTER VII. ITS A GRAND THING TO MAKE SOMETHING OUT OF THE LIFE GOD HATH GIVEN US, BUT IT IS GRANDER STILL, TO REACH THE GREAT END OVER GREAT DIFFICULTIES." James William Carr, the twelfth, and next to the youngest child of Uncle Horace, and Aunt Kitty, attained distinction both as a lecturer and a minister. A Tennessean by birth, and a Georgian by Providence, he died in the midst of his usefulness at Savannah, Ga., August 25, 1907. In his youth, he professed religion and joined Mount Zion during his father's pastorate of the church. His early educational advantages were poor, but he was ambitious, and lost no opportun- ity for mental improvement. Rev. William Carr was tall, and bright colored, having his mother's refined features, and his father's good physique. A blend of both parents in looks, and Christian principles. 55 That he was appreciative, the following letter received by the writer, a short time before his death, will show: Savannah, Ga., May 13, 1907. "Mrs. /. F. Miller — Kind Friend: Today my thoughts go back to the scenes of my boyhood, away back in the 70's, when I worked for your father. How well do I remember the day he hired me, and carried me home behind him, on a big sorrel horse he called Charlie. "I had never lived with white people, and Mother Kitty did not think I would be satisfied, but I was, and stayed several months, going home every Saturday evening. "I date my start in life to the study table in your father's family room at night, around which I was not only permitted the use of books, but was also instructed in them. "One' day I ventured to ask you to set me some copies, in a rude copy book I had pinned together of foolscap paper. You asked if I wanted words, or sentences. I was embarrassed, for I did not know the difference, and you set both. "I feel profoundly grateful to you, and your family, for the interest manifested in the little yellow boy from near Horse Shoe Bend. "I have traveled from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from Lake Michigan to the Gulf of 56 Rev. John William Carr, Savannah, Ga. Mexico, and I have been treated with respec* wherever I have gone. "I am at present pastor of the First African Baptist Church of Savannah. It was organized in 1788. The membership is 5,000, and the value of the church property, $100,000.00. This church has had only six pastors during its existence of 119 years; I am its sixth. "The race riot in Atlanta a few months ago, has in no way changed my opinion of the South, as being the proper home of the negro. "I am glad you visited my mother, and took down in writing some interesting incidents of her life. "My parents were unlettered it is true, for their sphere was limited, but our Heavenly Father can be glorified in little things as well as great things. "It matters not how small the deed of kindness done, it is the motive that dignifies the action. "Providence permitting, I hope to visit Port Royal next fall, and meet once more in the flesh my friends and kindred there. If I come I will preach a sermon or two at Mount Zion. It is a dear old church to me, and the quiet spot near by, in which sleeps the dust of my father and two brothers, is dearer still. 57 "May God's richest blessings rest on your household, is the prayer of, Your obedient servant, J. W. Carr. In three months after the above letter was written, Rev. William Carr was stricken with fever and died. The news of his death was tele- graphed to his only surviving brother, Horace Carr, of District No. 1, Montgomery county, Tenn. Immediately following this, memorial services were held in several Middle Tennessee and South- ern Kentucky churches in which he had preached before making Savannah his home. Deceased was twice married. His second wife and several children survive him. Apropos of Rev. William Carr's reference to the First African Baptist Church at Savannah, I quote the following from an article in the In- fonrer, written by Wm. L. Craft (col.), Field Secretary of the National B. Y. P. U. Board, Nashville, Tennessee: "The colored Baptists of the United States have cause to feel proud of the results of their distinctive organic church work within the past 120 years. And to the State of Georgia we owe it, to call 58 her the Mother State of negro organic church life. "It was in Savannah, January 20, 1788, that the first negro Baptist church was organized by Rev. Andrew Bryan, and numerous other slaves converted under his earnest preaching. "Rev. Bryan was converted under the preaching of Rev. George Leile, and baptized, 1783, in the Savannah River. At the close of the Civil War, 1865, there were 400,000 negro Baptists in the United States. "Today they are estimated at 3,000,000, and well organized. The National Colored Baptist Convention was organized at Montgomery, Ala., in 1880, and shows 89 State Conventions; 559 Associations; 18,214 churches; 17,217 ordained ministers; 15,625 Sunday Schools; 73,172 officers and teachers-; 788,016 pupils. "The officers of this National Convention are as follows: Rev. E. C. Morris, D. D., Helena, Ark., President; Prof. R. B. Hudson, A. M., Selma, Ala., Recording Secretary; Rev. A. J. Stokes, D. D., Montgomery, Ala., Treasurer; Rev. Robert Mitchell, A. M., D. D., Bowling Green, Ky., Auditor; Rev. S. W. Bacote, D. D., Statistician. "The work of this great body is conducted by National Boards, under the management of Cor- responding Secretaries. 50 "The denominational organ speaking for this Convention, is The National Baptist Union, pub- lished weekly at Nashville, Tenn. E. W. D. Isaac, D. D., is editor, and said to be one of the ablest in the United States." It was in a speech made on Georgia soil, that first gave Booker T. Washington the eye and ear of the Nation, when he said, "It is worth far more to the negro to have the privilege of making an honest dollar side by side with the white man, than it is to have the privilege of spending that dollar sitting by him in a theatre." It is this wholesome doctrine that has given him the right influence among right thinking people of both races. When Booker Washington left Hampton Insti- tute, Virginia, that great school for the practical training of the negro, he began his life work at a country cross roads, near Tuskegee, Alabama. It proved a good stopping place for that young and penniless, but cultured son of Hampton Institute. As an educator and civic builder, he is known and honored wherever the forces of Christian civilization recount their worthies, and crown their heroes. It is a remarkable record, that in all his utterances, on both sides of the sea, Booker Washington has never been known to say a foolish or intemperate thing. 60 speaking further of Georgia, it is asserted on good authority that the negroes of this State pay taxes on something over $18,000,000 worth of property. It is property at last, that is the test of civilized citizenship, especially in a land where good men may readilv attain it. With whiskey out of the reach of a race having a lamentable weakness for it. it is highly p)robable that these figures will be greatly increased within the next decade. The truth is gradually becom- ing known to the world, that the South is giving to the negro the only square deal a white race ever gave to one of another color, living among them under tiie same laws. Through the refining influence of the holy teachings of the Man of Galilee, the Southern white man is harmonizing with his "Brothers in Black." to a degree that he is spending three hundred million dollars in their education; not only this, but he is supplying them with wealth accunmlating work, and allowing them to enjoy the rights of peaceable citizenship. That they duly appreciate all this, is daily expressed in the right living of the best elenient of our colored population. 61 CHAPTER VIII. THE ONLY PERMANENT BASIS OF SPIRITTTAL LIFE IS THE BROTHERHOOD OF SOULS." In the preparation of this Httle book, it has been my earnest desire to secure my information from reliable sources, and so far, I think I have succeeded in doing so. After writing the preceding chapters, it occurred to me that I would like to read them to some member of the Carr family, before giving them to the public. So Rev. Luke Fort, of Guthrie, Ky., came to my home. May 13, 1911, and spent a good portion of the day. Rev. Fort, in antebellum times, belonged to Mr. Lawson Fort, He is sixty-four years of age, and the most of his useful life was spent on the Fort plantation. He was married during the 70 's to Annie, youngest daughter of Uncle Horace and Aunt Kitty Carr. Rev. Fort not only endorsed as correct what had already been written, but he gave me addi- 62 tional information that I consider both valuable and interesting. He spoke in part as fol- lows: "When I first heard that you wished to talk to nie of a family I loved so well, I was afraid I could be of but little assistance to you, but after hearing you read what had already lieen written mv nund was awakened, and the old scenes came back to me. "I was the son- m -law of these dear old people nineteen years, and twelve years of that time, (after Father Horace's death) Mother Kitty lived with me. "It was while I was a tenant on Mr. W. D. Fort's farm. After the day's work was done, we used to gather around the fireside in winter, or on the front porch in Summer, and listen to her talk. Everybody liked to hear her talk. But after she broke up housekeeping and had no cares, if possible, she seemed more interesthig than at any period of her life. My regret is, that I did not take more note of what she said. "Her theme was religion, for she was an every day Christian. Inuring her widowhood, she went to live awhile with her son, William, who was at that time living at Indianapolis Indiana, but- she was not satisfied, and soon returned to Ten- nessee. At her advanced age, she could not get 63 tised to the great difference between town and country life. " From Aunt Kitty we turned to Uncle Horace, and Rev. Fort continued: "Father Horace had his own peculiar style of preaching, and often his sermons would be made up entirely of some good religious experience he had especially enjoyed. "He was partial to the Gospel of John, and the best sermon I ever heard him preach was from the 15th chapter and 1st verse, 'I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman.' Feeling the infirmities of old age coming on, and knowing that Altheus had chosen the ministry, he often put him to the front in the pulpit, while he sat back, in his humble way, and directed the service. While sitting beneath the sound of his voice, in Scriptural language he doubtless thought to him- self, 'This is my son, in whom I am well pleased.' He seemed to be getting ready for Altheus to step into his shoes, and carry ori the good work he had begun. The foundation had been laid." Rev. Fort then paid fine tribute to the memories of his white people, Mr. Lawson Fort, and his pious v.'ife. To the latter he said he owed his first religious impressions. When a mere boy waiting about the house, she talked to him of salvation in a way that he understood, and he 64 Rev. Luke Fort, Guthrie, Ky. was led to tnist his Savior at an early as^e. And after he was a middle aged man, she often invited him to attend devotional exercises in the seclusion of her family room ; on one accasion she requested him to lead in prayer, which he did. Never having heard of the colored meetings held on the Fort plantation before the war, only in a general way, I asked Rev. Luke Fort if he remembered one, and he said he did, very dis- tinctly. It was during the middle 50 's when he was about seven years old. It was Saturday night, and the first time he ever hcvard Uncle Horace preach The service was held in what they called Aunt Margaret's house, a large, comfortable log room, with a shed at one end, and an upstairs. There were two doors in the main room, opposite each other, and facing east and west. Along between ten and eleven, o'clock the meeting reached its most enjoyable stage. The good old time songs were rr-aking their souls happy. Uncle Horace led the songs, and his face wore that placid look that seemed to speak that no wave of trouble would ever roll across his peaceful breast," when a rap was heard at the front door, and before they had time to think, in rushed a band of patrolers ! As they came in at the east door, the confused 65 congregation made hastv exit from the west door. The news was quickly conveyed to the kind old master, who sent his son, the late Sugg Fort, to the scene of excitement. Young Mr. Fort approached the patrolers in a very dignified manner; and informed them that his father had sent him to tell them that their services were not needed on his premises. It was before the countv line had been changed, Mr. Fort's residence was then in Montgomery county, instead of Robertson, its present location, and the patrolers were from Port Ro3^al. (For the benefit of a younger generation of readers, I will state that patrolers were organized bands of white men, appointed in each neighbor- hood, for the piu-pose of going about at night and keeping order among a doubtful element of colored people who left home without passes, or written permission from their owners. The unfortunate condition of affairs demanded it, and still more unfortunate was it, that the appointment, or office, too often fell into cruel and inhuman hands.) There lived at Port Royal, a fine looking colored man by the name of Dean Dancy, the property of the late John A. Dancy. It so happened that Dean was masquerading this particular Saturday night without a pass, and unhickily fell into the hands of the patrolers. Knowing they would deal roughly w4th him under such circumstances, he compromised the matter by telling them, if they'd let him off jtist this one time, he'd pilot them to a negro meeting, where they could find a housefull of people without passes, and this was why Uncle Horace's meeting was so disturbed. Monday morning Mr. Fort ordered his saddle horse brought out unusually early; he rode over to Port Ropal and informed Mr. Dancy of what his boy Dean had done, and the trickster had to make some pretty fair promises to escape punish- ment. On the same night that Dean Dancy led the patrolers to molest the quiet worshipers on Mr. Fort's plantation, an amusing scene was enacted in a dry goods store at Port Royal. It was during the late fall, and several of the village clerks had put up a notice that they would pay liberally for a fat, well cooked o'possum, delivered at Dancy and Kirby's store. Joe Gaines, a tall brown skinned man belonging to W. N. Gaines, gleaned the persimmon trees round about the Gaines premises, and failing to find an o'possum, conceived the idea of substituting a fat house-cat. After it was nicely cooked, he stepped out by the light of the moon, with his pass in his pocket, and hope in his heart of bringing back a silver dollar. 67 The clerks from the other business houses assembled at Dancy and Kirby's, where a spread was set for eight o possum eaters. Dr. J. T. Darden a young physician from Tumersville, had a short time before located at Port Royal, and was invited to the feast. When the dish containing the supposed delectable marsupial was uncovered, it was observed that the young physi- cian began to view it with a suspicious eye. He called Mr. T. M. Kirby to one side and told him the carcass was not that of an o 'possum and they must not eat it. Upon closer examination it was very plain that it was a cat. Without a word, Mr. Dancy walked to the front door and turned the key, locking them in ; a pistol was placed on the table, and Joe was informed that he must devour that cat, or suffer the aon- sequences. It required the effort of his life, but he choked it down. If Dean and Joe ever had good inten- tions, Satan certainly run rough shod over them all that Saturday night. ******* Along with the progress of colored churches within the past four decades, that of orders, and societies is worthy of mention. Within a short distance of each other, they have, near Port Royal, both Odd Fellows and 68 Benevolent Society halls. Of the latter society I shall speak more in detail, from the fact that it is much older as an organization, in this com- munity, and has done so much for its membefs. It was organized, October, 1872, in a little log school room, on what was called Sugar Camp Branch, on Miss Ellen Yates' farm. Dennis Neblett, a good colored man of that vicinity, was the ])rime mover in the enterprise, and called to his assistance in its organization Granville Wilcox and Henry Roberts (col.), of Clarksville, Tenn. They organized with thirty charter members, and Dennis Neblett was elected President, which office he faithfully filled for thirty-seven years. This feeble but faithful little band met three years in Sugar Camp Branch school room, after which the house was moved farther down the creek, on Mr. Henry Rosson's farm. Being too remote from the majority of its members, they lost interest and failed to attend the meetings as they had formerly done, so the officers adopted the plan of meeting in the homes of the members, and occasionally at the churches. The change awakened renewed interest, and from that tim.e on, it gradually increased from, thirty members to something near one hundred and fiftv. Tts noble mission is to assist the disabled, nurse the sick, and bitry the dead. In the early 90 's they bought a lot on the prin- cipal street of Port Royal, on which they erected a very modest little hall They were fortunate in making this investment at that date, as the remainder of their treasury, $200.00 (two hundred) deposited in a Clarksville bank, was lost during the failure of several banks at that time in Clarks- ville. After meeting at Poit Roval lodge a num- ber of years, they decided to purchase a more suitable location. The old Carr home near Port Royal had been dismantled, and the land was bought bv Mr. Joshua Ford, a prosperous farmer of District No. 5, Montgomery county. Mr. Ford disposed of his purchase in lots, Jerry Fort (col.) being the first purchaser of five acres, on which he built a comfortable little home. Jerry and Harry Grant, as Trustees for the Benevolent Society, were appointed to purchase three acres of the same tract, adjoining his, for a burying groimd, and also a parade ground for the society. The purchase was made, but after- ward sold for residence lots, now owned and occupied by Jane Davis. Lecie Hollins and George Watson. A large tobacco bam on the opposite side of the road, fronting the Fort home, had been used for several years as a shelter for the society when the 70 members gave barbecues and other out-door festivities. This bam including one-quarter of an acre, was bought by the Trustees, the building sold to Sim Polk Tcol.) and moved to his farm on Parson's Creek, and a nice Hall, Benevolent Treasure No. 7, erected on the site, at a cost of something less than a thousand dollars. This building speaks well for its enterprising members, and is an ornament to the roadside. Added to the membership, is a juvenile branch of the order, consisting of about fifty polite bovs and girls, ranging from four to sixteen years of age. In its first organization, 1872, this society was known as Benevolent Society No. 3, but a few vears ago changed conditions made it necessary to reorganize, after which it was called Benevolent Treasure No. 7. Its present officers are as fol- lows : Sim Polk, President. John Person, Vice-President. George Watson, Recording Secretary. Waymond Polk, Assistant Secretary. Harry Grant, Treasurer. Willis Northington, Chaplain. Weight Watkins, Lizzie Dortch, Chairmen of Sick Committee. Demps Trabue, Chairman Executive Committee. The meetings are held semi-monthly. 71 CHAPTER IX. RECOLLECTION IS THP; ONLY PARADISE FROM WHICH WE CANNOT BE TURNED OUT." it To the aged, it is a delightful refuge. I found this especially true in the case of Aunt Gaines Williams, whom I visited May 10, 1911. She ^^as living with her youngest daughter, Mrs. Sarah Northington, on Esq. James H. Achey's farm. Not until I began, several years ago, to interview these faithful old colored representatives of antebellum times, did I know how their minds were stored with rich recollections. T was anxious to talk with Aunt Eliza, because she had been in touch with the Carr family all her life, and her daughter had been the wife of the late Rev. Altheus Carr. Aunt Eliza was born in 1828. as the property of Major James Norfleet, a prominent citizen of Robertson county, who owned large possessions on Sulphur Fork Creek; his homestead site being now owned by Greer Brothers, a mile or two 72 Aunt Eliza Gaines W44HfHns. Mother of five generations of her family. son; their oldest daughter, Margaret, married Gabe Washington, and their daughter, Amanda, has grand-children. While 1 was talking about my white folks. I forgot to tell you they were kin to the 'big folks,' the Bakers, the Dortch's, and Governor Blount. These three families lived out on Parson's Creek, and Major Baker gave the land on his place for that great camp ground, called Baker's Camp Ground. Lor, the good old times the people used to have at the Baker's camp meetings. You could hear them shouting for miles! The little church wasn't much larger than a family room, but they had tents all along the creek bottom near the big Baker spring, and held the meetings two or three weeks at a time. Brother Horace Carr enjoyed these camp meet- ings; I've heard him tell of some of the big ser- mons old Dr. Hanner, Dr. West, and others used to preach there, but somehow he was partial to Red River Church, above all the rest. It was through his influence that I, and a host of others joined Red River, and then when we were freed, and the Lord blessed us with a church of our own, we followed him to Mount Zion. "If everybody that Brother Horace influenced to be Christians here on earth are with him in heaven today, he has a glorious throng around him. I will never forget the last time I saw 73 southeast of Port Royal. At her birth, Major Norfleet gave her to his daughter Louisa, who named her for a favorite schoolmate, Mary Eliza Wheatley, but for short they always called her Eliza. Her mind seemed to d^^e\\ first, on her white people, of whom she spoke as follows: "Mv young Mistress, Miss Louisa Norfleet, married Mr. Abraham Gaines, Mr. Billie Gaines' father, and lived where Mr. Ed. Bourne now lives, in the village of Port Royal. When Mr. Billie Gaines was a few months old his mother went to Mr. Sam Northington's to spend a few days, and while she was there she ate something that disagreed with her, and died suddenly from congestion of the stomach. "I had a baby child nearly the same age of hers, and I nursed them both at my own breast. That has been sixty odd years ago, but I grieve for her till yet, for she was good to me. I'm trying to be ready to meet her. Mr. Billie Gaines does not forget me; he comes to see me, and sends me a present now and then, and so does Mr. Frazier Northington. "I was the mother of fourteen cliildren by my first husband, Wiley Gaines, and there is some- thing in mv family that very few people live to see, the fifth generation. My oldest daughter, Annie, married Henry Fort, Sister Margaret Fort's 74 him. I heard he was sick, and I went over and carried him a lunch basket of nice things to eat. The weather was warm, and he was able to bring his chair out and sit in his yard. He had dropsy and did not live very long after that. He talked of heaven most of the time; he would clap his hands and say: 'I'm nearing my Father's house, Where many mansions be, Nearer the great white throne. My people are waiting for me.' "I used to go to Brother Horace's prayer meet- ings that he held aroimd at night in homes that permitted him, and one night he called on me to pray in public. I was confused, and did not say but a few words, but he told me that a few from the heart were worth ten thousand from the tongue. When I told him good bye, the last visit I made him, he held my hand a long time, and pointed toward heaven and said, 'In the name of our Lord, we must set up our banner. Set it high, and never look down.' " After the first talk with Aunt Eliza, I made a second visit, the same week, for the purpose of taking her picture, but after reaching her home 75 ajrain storm came on suddenly, and we could not get the sunlight necessary to picture making. She had peen advised by telephone that we would be there, and was nicely dressed for the occasion. Strange to say, she was eighty-two years old, and had never had a picture taken. We succeeded next day however, in securing a very good one. On my second visit to her she met me at the door in her characteristic pleasant manner and said : "I've been studying a heap about what you said and read to me the other evening when you were here, and I told my daughter that I believed the Lord had directed you to write this history of my people, and their early struggles. If some- body does not take it up, the old heads will all soon be gone, and there will be nobody left to tell the story." Among the older members of Mount Zion Church who have aided me materially in securing facts concerning its early history, I would mention Dan and Jerry Fort. While neither of them were charter members, they have been prominently identified with the church for many years. They have seen it rise from the little box house, with its seventy unlettered members of forty-three years ago, to a reasonably well educated mem- bership of something over three hundred. 76 Crude and humble as that first church building was, I have heard it said that Uncle Horace on preaching days would pause on the hillside before entering, and praise God for the privileges he enjoyed. It seemed that a new heart was in his bosom and a new song was on his lips. He loved the little house of worship as though it had been handed down to him as a present, direct from heaven. Uncle Horace was instrumental in organizing two other churches besides Mount Zion, Antioch, near Turners ville, in Robertson county, and Nevil's Chapel, near Rudolphtown, in Montgom- ery. Along with prominent mention of the great Christian leader of his people, I must not omit due tribute to some of his followers; principal among whom was Uncle John McGowan, a member of Mount Zion Church forty-two years, and all the time leading a life worthy of emulation. Uncle John was born on what was known as the George Wimberly place near Ross view, in Montgomery county, in 1822. He was the prop- erty of Miss Katherine Wimberly, who married Mr. Milton Bourne, brother of the late Mr. William Bourne, of Port Royal, Tenn. Mr. Milton Bourne owned and settled the present homestead site of Mr. John Gower, of Port Royal. After living happily there for a number of years, he became 77 financially embarrassed, and was forced to sell some of his most valuable slaves. Among them, in young manhood's prime, was Uncle John, who, in no spirit of bitterness, often referred to his sale as follows: "A large block, or box, was placed in the front yard for us to stand on, that the bidders might get a good look at us. The bid opened lively when I was put up, for I was con- sidered a pretty likely man, as the saying went. When the bidding went way up into several hundred dollars, I was knocked, ofif to Mr. Lawson Fort. I was glad of that, for I had lived near him and knew him to be a good man. I hadn't long settled my mind down on having a good home the balance of my life, when up comes somebody and told me Mr. Fort didn't buy me, he was -just bidding for Mr. Patrick McGowan. 'My feathers fell,' as the saying is, for I didn't know how me and an Irishman I didn't know anything about were going to get along together. But it so happened that we got along fine; while his ways were a little different from what I had been used to with Mr. Bourne and the Wimberleys, I soon found him to be a man that would treat you right if you deserved it. He had his own curious way of farming, and no matter what price was paid for tobacco, he would not let a plant grow on his place. He had a very good little 78 farm joining the Royster place, and raised more potatoes than anybody in that whole country. "I have heard him tell often of letting Elder Reuben Ross, the great Baptist preacher that came to this country from North Carolina over a hundred years ago, live in a cabin in his yard till he could arrange to get a better home. Elder Ross had a large family, and Mr. McGowan took some of them in his own house. He was kind to strangers, and never turned the needy from his door. "I must tell you of a whipping I got while I belonged to Mr. Milton Bourne, that I did not deserve, and if I had the time to go over again, I would whip the negro who caused me to get it. There was a still house on Red River, not far from Mr. Sugg Fort's mill, it was long before Mr. Fort owned the mill; Mr. Joe Wimberly owned and operated the stillhouse. In that day and time, the best people of the land made whiskey; it was pure, honest whiskey, and did not make those who drank it do mean things, like the whiskey of today. Mr. Bourne had hired me to Mr. Wimberly to work in the still house, with a lot of other boys, about my age — along about nineteen and twenty years old. We were a lively set of youngsters, and laid a plan to steal a widow woman's chickens one night and 79 have a chicken fry. We took a solemn pledge just before we started, that we would never "tell on each other, if the old lady suspicioned us. Well we stole them, and one of the boys, Bob Herndon, who had been raised to help his mamm}^ about the kitchen, was a pretty good cook, and he fried them. I think it was the best fried chicken I ever put in my mouth. A day or two went by, the still house shut down, and they put me to work in the field. Corn was knee high, I was chopping out bushes in a field near the river, when I saw Mr. Wimberly's overseer come stepping down the turn row lii