HOOT OWLS,

HONEYSUCKLE
AND
AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED HALLELUJAH
TO

MY GRAND-NEPHEW
YANCEY COX

by

C. WALDO COX

VANTAGE PRESS

NEw YoRK WASHINGTON HoLLYWOOD


FIRST EDITION
All rights reserved, including the right of
reproduction in whole or in part in any form
Copyright, 1966, by C. Waldo Cox
Published by Vantage Press, Inc.
120 West 31st Street, New York 1, N.Y. 10001
Manufactured in the United States of America
PREFACE
This little book originated by accident. The first chapter-letter
was written with no thought of a second, and was sent to a
nephew in; Arizona who had announced the birth of a new baby
boy they named Yancey-after the author's own father.
The letter was written originally in slapdash fashion to acquaint
the baby boy, when he was old enough, with his namesake. The
family in Arizona sent this letter back East and South to relatives,
and a stream of requests for a follow-up letter, and another,
and another . . . eventually got the ball rolling; and after a few
yarns about the family were added, the author was eventually
stl'Ongarmed into doing a real job of it.
Although intended for the family circle originally, friends of
the family began to see in these letters glimpses of their own
forebears,. since the saga actually ranged from early colonial
times to the present. Persons outside the family became increas-
ingly eager to see a copy of each new letter- and no wonder,
for to read these pages is to look into the very heart of the
people who made America!
The argument used by the relatives on the author was that the
new baby Yancey had a right to the heritage passed down to him
from an early pioneer North Carolina family, through Yancey.
And friends of the family, in their letters, used similar argu-
ments on the author, claiming that they saw evidence in the story
of the same kind of heritage coming to them from their own
forebears.
Waldo Cox is a native of North Carolina, the youngest son
of the original Yancey. From many months of intensive research
he has documented the facts of the family history running back
three hundred years, and has described the family traits with
numerous, rugged, side-splitting stories originating on the old
plantation, which has belonged to his family for more than two
hundred years.
It is a fast-moving, humorous cross-section of early American
life - a unique and fascinating family saga; and when you read
it, though a stranger to the family, you may well think you have
discovered the story of your very own forebears.
Margaret W. Donaldson
 CONTENTS

Preface
Meet Yancey Cox 13
A True Story That Nearly Ruined Me 14
Family Influence- Your Kin and Mine 16
Yancey's First American Forebear 23
Yancey's First North Carolina Forebear 27
Harmon and Jane Choose Their Homestead 29
They Build Their Home 32
Harmon Helps Kill the "Stamp Act" 38
The Circuit Riders 41
Harmon Helps Orgauize the "Regulators" 45
Early Folklore- "Sayings" and "Remedies" 47
Harmon and the War for Independence 52
A Tragic' Romance 58
Our Coat of Arms- The Crest 62
Our Slaves Set Free Twenty-Seven Years Early 65
Euuice Loses Harmon 67
The Bombardment of Fort Sumter 68
The Hunter Catches Yancey 72
Yancey and the Boys Escape 75
Crossing Deep River-The Last Big Hurdle 78
News Leaks Out- "The Boys Are Home" 83
The Hunter Meets His Fate 85
Postwax Poverty- And the Comeback 87
Nancy-The Real Girl Yancey Married 90
Nancy Lowdermilk Had a Pedigree 92
Yancey and Nancy Take Over the Plantation 94
Call for Yancey Cox 98
Everything Else and a Surgeon Too 99
 ,,

The Old Log Schoolhouse 101

The Yaucey School of "Learning by Doing" 104
Typical Homespun Humor 113
Our Family Social Life 116
How My Sisters Started Up Housekeeping 121
How Mother Got Results on the Farm 125
Wheat-Thrashin' and Corn Shuckin' 128
The Annual Camp Meetings 131
If I Hadn't Se~n It I Wouldn't Believe It 134
Now This Was My Day 141
We All Felt Like the Lord Had Passed By 142
Butchering on the Farm 145
Heritage Responsibility 148
The Big Fox Hunt 152
The Fox Hunt Aftermath- The Dog Trial 158
Individual Initiative Above Everything Else 161 HOOT OWLS;
The Girl's Day iu the Old Swimmin' Hole 166
The Big Coon Fight 169 HONEYSUCKLE
Wake Up America-The Yellow Light Is Flashing 172
The Old Cane Mill 178 AND HALLELUJAH
The Circus Comes to Town 180
And This on a Silver Platter 185
Acknowledgment 190
 MEET YANCEY COX

Yancey Cox was my father. He was a whale of a man-six

feet three, weighing nearly three hundred pounds, erect as an
Indian; lie wore a twenty-inch collar, and size twelve shoes.
He had a, voice like a foghorn, and unquestionably took complete
control over everything and everbody who had not previously
fled the area when they heard he was coming. He was just about
everything all at once-husband, father, farmer, teacher, poli-
tician, Justice of the Peace, veterinary surgeon, public surveyor,
auctioneer; and he wanted to be Governor, but found that too
many of his friends were Democrats.
He wasn't around home too much, and it might as well be
said that Nancy, my mother, ran the plantation. But when he did
come by, everybody within a radius of three miles knew it. If it
wasn't raining, he'd grab a horse and cover the plantation telling
everybody what to do, how to do it, and how to do it Faster!
If it happened to be raining he'd round up the boys and we'd
go seining. If it wasn't raining, and the ground was too wet to
plow, we'd go squirrel-hunting; and if by the next day the ground
was still too wet to plow, we'd go fox-hunting, which generally
lasted two days. After this, he was oft; again on another trip.
And when he did leave, my little mother would say, "Now that
he's gone, let's all take a deep breath!"
If he happened to be home on a Sunday he delighted in driving
all to church in his big wagon, mostly to show off his fancy horses;
and it was O.K. by him if we walked home with the girls after
Sunday night church- in the opposite direction another seven
miles- just so we got back home by sun-up Monday morning
to start plowing.
Everything he tackled, he figured it was time wasted if it took
longer than ten minutes flat to fix it. Getting a job done was all
that counted; how it looked didn't matter. Furthermore, while
he was working at it, everyone around was lucky not to get run
over or tromped on. He generally boasted that "Anything I repair

13
is better than the original, anyway- a way better!" The small
matter of a wagon wheel crushing under a too heavy load
didn't bother him in the least or hinder him for long. He simply
cut down a tree, slipped it under the rear axle, laid the butt
end on the front axle and pulled the load on in- and on time!
The main thing was to arrive- it didn't matter how!
A neighbor watching Yancey build a granary, and noticing
that he never used his square, said, "Yancey, I notice you never
pick up your square; what do you keep it lying around for?"
Yancey replied, "Oh, yes, I use it; sometimes when I saw off
a board, I put the square on the board just to see if the square
is still square!"
He was so individualistic and so resourcefn! that he evidenced
signs of resentment for the use of scientific formulae worked out
by other people. In his opinion, his own ingenuity was not only
adequate instantly for any emergency but far superior to the gen-
eral conclusions of others. Nothing seemed to baflle him or cause
him any hesitation; he handled complicated situations as if every
step had been planned in advance, while bystanders looked on
in amazement.
A TRUE STORY THAT NEARLY RUINED ME
Now I wouldn't give you a wrong impression of my father,
for he did more kindly deeds for his neighbors and had more
friends than anybody- even if some of them were afraid not to be.
While he was around, there was not a minute's rest for anyone.
On the farm he appeared to get a great thrill out of trying to
wear us all out. And yet on his return home from a big trip
he would often bring a surprise with him to delight the whole
family, such as our first pull-down kerosene lamp or a Shetland
pony.
His personality was so overwhelming that everyone around
caught the urge to increase their tempo to at least "double";
even the horses on the farm moved up from a walk to a trot when
they heard his voice. And the magnetism of his control over
those around dispelled every trace of divergence of views. His
will was "law and gospel"- both! Moreover his influence over
14
~very.one ~round was so overwhehning that they not only joined
m With hzs plan but, ahnost before they knew it, found them-
selves working with an hypnotic fervor, as if to equal or excel
his drive. His influence was like this on the plantation, and it was
like this ion people in public life.
It is ainazing, the influence he had on each one of us children.
While we may have disliked his method, he surely sold us on
the idea of doing any job that needed to be done- thoroughly
and with dispatch. His teaching always had its influence, but his
example' was even more effective; so that without realizing it,
we were all unconsciously acting like him.
He told me a story when I was about seven years old which
affected my whole life. This is the way he told it:
"When Stonewall Jackson, under great pressure from the rear,
had to cross a stream with his army of men, he explained the
emergency to his wagonmaster and to his engineer and told
them that some kind of a bridge must be thrown up quickly-
in a hurry! The engineer went to his tent and worked all night
on plans. At daybreak he reported to the General, saying: 'Sir,
I have completed my plans for building the bridge. Now I need
one hundred men to forage for timbers.' Just then the wagon-
master rushed in and said, 'General, Sir, through the night we
carried. rails from a nearby pasture fence, and have thrown up
a makeshift bridge. The job is completed, and my wagon train
is now waiting your orders to cross.' Instead of preparing to start
to get ready to commence to begin to build the bridge, the Wagon-
master JUST BUILT IT! He seized on to a collection of 'im-
possibles' and made a bridge possible. He matched his ingenuity
against the emergency, knocking the feathers out of the temporary
handicap, and the General crossed the river!"
Now this story nearly ruined me. The wagonrnaster technique
seized on to my nature so tenaciously that until this day I want
to spin my wheels when I start, skid to a stop and rush in with-
out knocking!
When I went away to high school, where I took a course in
"shop" -manual training, my professor gave me an assignment
to build a birdhouse. He said, "Now, this is your project." Well,
I had never associated delay with any project I had ever had
before, so next morning I fetched in the birdhouse, all completed,
with peaked roof, ventilators in the attic, a two-inch door with
a landing platform and wire hook for hanging the house on a limb.
15
 I had robbed the back fence of some boards, sawed out the
sides, ends and roof and nailed them .together with odd-sized
nails also taken from the fence, with no thought of using a square.
Well, when I handed it to the professor, everybody went "nuts"!
They held their stomachs. Some of them laughed till they cried.
. . . All this was a total surprise to me. I didn't laugh, and the
professor didn't laugh. In fact, he looked sort of sad-like. . . .
And when the commotion died down a bit, he said to me, "I'm
partly to blame for this, for I should have explained to you that
after you had learned from this course in 'shop' the principles
of the 'square' for determining tl1e height of the ceiling and the
pitch of the roof, you were then to begin to prepare the several
parts of the birdhouse to be joined together into a consummate
whole"- or something!
Anyway, it all sounded so foreign to the way a wagonmaster
would build a birdhouse that I tried to quit the class! and until
this day, I think tl1ey should have given the professor the "horse-
laugh" instead of me.
I was so enamored of that "wagonmaster technique" that I just
thought I had to deliver that birdhouse by morning. Even now
adays, when I go fishing, my friends rib me for "fishin' like
fightin' fire."
FAMILY INFLUENCE- YOUR KIN AND MINE
You probably have wondered where t!J.is man Yancey came
from. We did, and kept on wondering. We theorized that in his
background there must have been a mysterious synclrronism of
the genes transmitted by his progenitors with pre-eminently do-
minant traits of character from both sides of his ancestry simul-
taneously, producing a powerful c11aracter trait which he inherited,
in the very same way that we explain, in the realm of horse-
flesh, the sensational "Man o' War" and the fabulous "Sea
Biscuit."
He was more like a cyclone than a steady breeze, totally dif-
ferent from anyone else. Even among some of his own imperious
kin he was given plenty of room as he displayed his dominance
of personality. When he arrived on any scene, in no time at all
16
it was assumed by all present that previous plans were either
to be totally disregarded or radically modified to suit his will.
Yet he was never accused of domineering; but he did dominate,
and with no doubt about it! And whatever he did, after a glance
at the situ~tion, he did it with such vehemence that his neigh-
bors, or others present, almost feared for life or limb.
We boysj of course, grew accustomed to his style; and without
consciously realizing it, we developed a mental alertuess and
physical t!jrust compatible with his drive- partly, perhaps, to
keep from :being nm over or tromped on. And this very thing
gave neighpor boys on the school ground an excuse for daring
to accuse us of "having Yancey traits"- which in turn gave us
the excuse for a fistfight. In fact, certain older persons in our
community also accused us of "acting just like Yancey," in
remarks not always complimentary, either.
These things nettled us into a deternJ.ined resolve to learn all
we could about his family backgrmmd just as far back as pos-
sible. We had no books on genealogy; and there was no library
worth the name within a hundred miles. We boys decided that
our best clue was to interview the oldest men in our part of the
country. We found three who were more than ninety years of
age. One lived on Deep River, and had known Yancey's father
and grandfather. He told us quite a story, and wound up his
remarks like this:
"Like father, like son; Yancey is a spittin' image of both of
them, smart and bullheaded, just like they were, only worse."
Another oldtimer said:
"Yes, I have known the Cox men in Yancey's fanJ.ily for three
generations. They were all alike and all !etched with 'heredity
notions.' Why, they couldn't even enjoy a beef stew if they
thought it wasn't blooded stock."
On another Saturday we rode fifty miles to see another old
man who had reached the age of ninety-four. When we explained
the reason why we came to see him, he chuckled and said:
"Well, boys, you'll just have to live with him the w~y he is.
His father, grandfather and great-grandfather were like that;
nobody ever changed either one of them one bit; and if anyt!J.ing,
Yancey is a worse Ripstaver than they were. They all had the
'heredity bug.' Everything's either had to be 'blooded' or marked
for the slaughter; and sometimes I .think they applied the same
rule to people!"
17
 Well, we rode back home convinced that the Yancey secret lay
far beyond the limits of three generations. Through the years my
curiosity never abated; and I resolved some day to do a genuine
research of Yancey's background to learn how, when and were
this dynamic personality derived its origin. What a thrill I have
had, searching through the archives of the dim past, particularly
during the frontier days of America, discovering here and there
a "Little David" of my own kin, with his own slingshot, snatch-
ing victory from defeat. Each discovery was so rewarding, and
my run of luck was so beguiling, that I became convinced, in my
exhilaration of triumph, that my family was extraordinary, with-
out a peer; until, with my Aladdin's lamp, at the turn of a sharp
corner, I perceived the unmistakable form of an ordinary horse
thief hanging to the lower limb of my very own family tree!
NOW, IF THAT AIN'T HELL- WHAT IS?
But I very quickly recovered from the shock. For after this
much research, I knew so much about the family that by now
I was overjoyed in discovering only one horse thief instead of six!
Research indicates that "traits of character" originate in fam-
ily groups. Some think they are "caught on to," or passed on
through imitation, from generation to generation. But Yancey
was convinced they were "inherited," originating by a synchron-
ism of the genes transmitted by the parents to their progeny, and
that the joining of two parents, each with strong dominant traits
of character, tended inevitably to insure increased dominance of
character in their progeny- which process he claimed essential
to "good breeding."
Certainly the "family" is the primary training ground for hu-
man society. This holds true in all stages of human development,
from the most primitive to the most cultured. It is where the off-
spring derives the first benefits of human experience with other
humans and from other humans. At first, imitation is, of course,
involuntary; but if imitation by volition is persisted in, then this
thing we call "civilization" is on its way.
The family is the basic cohesive element in human society. It
ties persons together beyond any other device contrived by man.
It spans the oceans in distance; and in time- who could know?
- but we do know that it holds firm for at least four thousand
years and through a most unfriendly history, from Abraham to
Ben Gurion. Many of us have not thought of the Scriptures as
being a "research" of the most noteworthy family the world
18
has ever known. But it is. And from The Bible Story we are
compelled to admit that this distinctive family as well as its
patriarchal founder, has influenced their progeny, during the rise
and fall of many civilizations, through forty centuries of time, with
ever-increasing constraint, and still exerts greater control over
their behavior than all other influences combined, in the world
today.
On each Rosh Hashanah-the Jewish New Year-the Jews
all over the world recount their historic triumphs and tragedies:
the revelation of God to Moses, Joshua's victory at Jericho, the
songs and conquests of David, the wisdom and splendors of
Solomon, of course the delivery from slavery in Egypt by Moses,
and the great revolt of the Maccabees.
Possibly no exploit in all Israel's history engages the attention
of modern Jews as does the story of the Maso.da. It was the climatic
episode at the fall of Jerusalem, when Rome, in A.D. 73, under
the leadership of Titus, ended all National Jewish independence
for more than 1875 years. Eleazar led a small group (960) of
Jewish men, women and children to the top of Masada, a flat-
topped mountain by the Red Sea, and there held out against
the siege of the Romans for seven months. When finally it was
evident they were about to be taken captive, they resolved to a
man to .die first, rather than surrender to slavery- and they
selected ten men of their number to kill all the rest; then the ten
I left chose one of their number to kill the other nine; and then the
one man left threw himself on his sword! Human courage
I SUPREME-and carried out by compact!
"1: Throughout the centuries, the Jews have cherished the memories
of Masada, and the present day STATE OF ISRAEL has this
same sort of htunan courage- and to spare- in its contempt
I of death, rather than ever allow "Masada" to fall again!
Jewish pride in FAMILY has made their little nation great! If
we would provide a favorable climate for our own progeny, let
us cherish the memories of our historic past, honoring the heroes
in our own family record, so that our progeny may have a
II reserve of honor, integrity and patriotism for facing the prob-
lems of their future!
Who could pretend to doubt the countless benefits to each
I one of us as individuals, and to civilization as a whole, for the
beneficent legacy received from the Biblical research on thi~ note-
worthy family? The record is so plain, and the documentatiOn so
I
19
 honest, that its failures are as frankly told as are its successes.
In the course of its striving to keep the faith of its patriarchal
founder t!uough centuries of unconscionable vicissitudes of for-
ttme, this family eventually developed the Law of the Ten Com-
mandments, which not only governed its own behavior but at
length became a "tutor" for all other nations, in government and
morals. Much of modern jmisprudence is based on the Mosaic
Law, and its superb literature has been a leaven influencing the
peoples of the world in the private belief that the goal of good-
ness is best, even if not profitable; that one's soul is of more
value than the whole earth; that in the universal scale of values
the individual henceforth rates first priority; that womanhood has
been elevated to the place of honor; that true happiness lies in
the realm of the spirit instead of the flesh; and that truth is the
very fotmdation stone of freedom.
These treasures, and a thousand more, may be gleaned from
the pages of this unique family saga, and the constant recom-
pense for reading this Hebrew story encourages one to research
the record of other noteworthy families.
The story of The Adams family in America should also be
read by every American. It relates an amazing success by an
early pioneer family which followed a strict formula over a period
of about two htmdred years: "Caution in marriage, assiduous-
ness in industry, rigid frugality, but extravagance in education."
Almost from the first, their offspring showed strong traits of
civic leadership. In the fifth generation, a son, Jolm, after gra-
duating from Harvard, soon distinguished hintself in law; he was
sent as Ambassador to France during the trying days of our
War for Independence. Later, this same John Adams became
the second President of the United States. Then his son,. John
Quincy Adams, within a few more years, also became President
of the United States. Then John Quincy's son distinguished him-
self dming the Civil War, as Ambassador to England; and his
sons- and their sons -for three more generations have been
outstanding. statesmen in America. Who can doubt the benefits
of the formula this family followed through eight generations in
producing men consistently capable of guiding and influencing the
destinies of our country?
On the contrary, the Kallikak family, the outstandingly notorious
family in America, with a history of consistent ineptitnde and
total depravity extending over a period of more than two hun-
20
I dred years, is an example of following the Adams' family for-
mula in reverse! In all those years, the progeny of the Kallikak
family were consistently philanderers, prostitutes, imbeciles- a
total economic liability to society.
The Adams family very early established a tradition which
.spurred on their progeny and tlnough the years left a heritage
of lasting value to all Americans. The Kallikak family, on tl1e
other hand, left only a record of disgrace, with not even one of
!' their number1 known to have been a self-respecting citizen.
The importance of "family should be self-evident even to the
most casual observer." Yancey's accent on "heredity" and "good
breeding" during his lifetime was based on the soundest concept
of facts; and his incessant urging of the importance of "good breed-
ing" has left a lasting impression on tlte citizenry of North Carolina,
even to this very day.
Now, as our own "families" have influenced us as individuals,
so have disturbing historical world events influenced our "fam-
ilies."
The convulsions of human society, as a result of the Refor-
mation in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and the terrible
persecutions which followed, disrupted families, scattering their
members beyond all hope of their ever reassembling again, shift-
ing great masses of population hither and thither as individuals
struggled to escape extermination.
For centuries the common people had been kept under by the
despotic rule of both Church and State. Only the ruling classes
were allowed the privilege of learning to read and write. All
the common people could learn was what was told to them. _The
Bible was strictly reserved for the use of the clergy, and wntten
only in Latin. In England a learned scholar, John Wycliffe, ven-
tured to translate portions of the Scriptures into English, so
that common people might read and understand what they were
reading, aud tlieu think for themselves without being told. w?at
to think. The result was explosive! Wycliffe had to flee for his hfe.
In Europe, Martin Luther did the same thing-and more. His
writing and preaching created in the minds of the common peo-
ple of the continent an urge and a determination not only to
think for themselves but to act for themselves in the realm of
human conscience. And like the common people in England, they
began to seize on to their new-found "right to _be ~ea~d from."
The despots, in both Church and State, forthwith ntstituted the
21
 persecution of all who would no longer "bow the knee"- a war
beyond anything in ferocity since the days of Nero. Every device
of cruelty was perpetrated on the "dissenters"; many leaders in
the cause of freedom of conscience were burned at the stake.
Thousands of distraught persons fled their homes. They were
hunted down in certain cases with dogs during their frantic efforts
to escape their homeland. Only a portion of them successfully
made their escape. Holland graciously opened her doors, but
soon there was no more room for those who kept coming. They
poured in from England, from Germany, and from France. Those
from England were called "Separatists"; and from France came
the "Huguenots"; and the "Dissenters" came from Germany.
Fortunately, when Holland could no longer accommodate these
distraught refugees, the chance came to escape to America. Hav-
ing fled their homelands with nothing, in some cases, but their
necks- or at best only a few items they could carry in their
knapsacks- they now had to sacrifice their very all for fare
across the ocean, even the "trinkets deftly sewed into their cloth-
ing." And those who had nothing at all were forced to become
bond servants to anyone paying their passages.
But by now they were already getting a taste of "freedom,"
and were willing to give everything if only they could reach
America. They were packed in the holds of ships which were
unseaworthy, and lived on meager rations as they crossed the
ocean. They even looked forward with a joyous new hope as they
landed on bleak shores, faced with the dangers of starvation,
massacre, epidemic, superstition and witchcraft. Some of these
were my own kin. My grandmother's grandfather, Charles Davis,
became a bond servant for three years for his passage across
the ocean. I'm glad I'm akin to Charles Davis!
Of the early days of the Colonies- the real frontier years of
America- it is difficult to learn the facts of history. But tedious
research has gathered together bits of facts from many sources
to make this period of history a gem of personal adventure,
daring and bravery.
From the fragments of many families reaching America, new
families were formed; former differences in social strata now
made little difference; neither did differing nationalities. Those
who had been accustomed to much now had as little left as any
others. In this ''New World," where they all felt so fortunate to
start life anew, a real common denominator had been found. Op-
22
portunity was equally free to all, and so was responsibility; and
these courageous refugees, fresh from persecution, gladly seized
on both.
Crises in Colonial times came fast. Noble deeds were seldom
recorded nor lheroes' names written down in any common record.
But in every :family each hero was honored and his memory was
revered. Though the facts might eventually become legendary,
the inspiration certainly lingered on, pass~~ down from. father
to son, generation after generation, and thnllillg us ~p _until n~w.
After three hundred years, we feel impelled, by cunos1ty or nch
reward to search back through the dim past of our family back-
grounds for nuggets of fact to ~ubstanti~te our pride in our fa~
ily heritage and in our Amencan hentage, for . they both m-
fluence our behavior to this day more than we tlunk.
i
"
YANCEY'S FIRST AMERICAN FOREBEAR
i An International Research Institute runs the history of the
Cox family in America back to the time of William the Conquerer,
in 1078, when the name was first spelled "Le Coq." It s~ys that
after the fust hundred years, branches of the Cox family then
began spelling their name differen t1 y: "Cox, " "Cocks," "Cocke,"
and "Coxe." Our branch was spelled "Cox"- and that made our
research easier. The research states further:
"It would appear they attached themselves early, by h~ok or
crook to the 'ruling classes,' for the name appeared promillently
now ~nd then through the next four hundred year~; and about the
middle of the sixteenth century, one named .Richard Cox was
Bishop of Ely, and gave aid to the Scotch Refonner John. Knox
of England. Another, Colonel Alben Co~, was an officer ill the
army of Oliver Cromwell. Also Dr. Dame! Cox, M.D., was per-
sonal physician to King Charles and Queen Anne."
From this line of ancestry came Yancey's first American fore-
bear, Thomas Cox, a Quaker. The record indicates tha.t he was
a wealthy young business man of London who. became illte.rested
in colonial investments in America and cut qmte a swath ill the
colonies of New Jersey and Pennsylvania. He was the only one
of Yancey's ancestors to reach America with any money at all,
23
 and he soon lost his fortune in Pennsylvania due to the French
and Indian Wars. ' responsibilities of manhood in setting up homes of their own.
Thomas Cox was a business associate of William Penn in
London. He became terribly disturbed over the social and reli-
gious unrest in England and the persecutions instituted by one
faction agaii_Ist another as the Crown changed back and forth
from Catholic to Protestant. And as he observed literally thou-
sands of England's best people escaping their homeland because
of political or religious persecution, eventually making their way
to the New World, he became convinced that this American ad-
venture would some day be a success.
He visited several colonies, finally deciding on the colony of
New Jersey as the most promising for an investment as well as
a desirable area in which to live. He learned that one of the
proprietors was in declining health and wanted to sell; and after
two months of negotiations, he "purchased the corporate hold-
ings of T~omas West in 1682, and became one of the twenty
four propnetors of the colony of New Jersey" (Col. Hist., State
of New Jersey).
Soon after becoming a proprietor, he moved his young family
from London to the colony, and began acquiring large holdings
of land. According to the American Institute of Researchers he
was given the first Grant Deed of record in the American colo~ies
it was placed in the Smithsonian Museum in Washington with
the inscription: "This Grant Deed was given to Thomas' Cox
Esq., of the Colony of New Jersey." ' The proposition was so appealing that, after the first explora-
. For sever~! years, everything went well in the colony. His
mvestments mcreased as he brought more and more of his old
friends from London into the colony.
His private charity paid the passage across the ocean of deserv-
ing refugees, passed on by a Quaker committee stationed in Hol-
land most of whom he never saw. (George Fox's Journa[).
Eventu~lly ~ smallpox epidemic swept over the Colony, and
he lost his Wife and one child. This left him with a family of
six boys and five little girls. Within two years he married again
-an Irish girl, "twenty-seven, redheaded, with blue eyes, and
hair to her knees." She was one of the refugees for whom he had
paid passage ll: few years before, but had never seen. She quickly
won the affection of the rest of the family; and Thomas and his'
new wife raised another family of six more boys. The oldest
one they named Harmon (Hist. Notes. Col. N.J.).
24
In colonial days, boys became men early and assumed the
By the time Harmon was twenty, all his half-brothers were estab-
lished on land. He was precocious in many ways, and by now
he was channg at the bit, looking and longing for a home of
his own. Then, almost like a Cinderella story, word came from
the Quaker Committee in Holland that "an Irish girl refugee
is here, desperately searching for the whereabouts of her aunt-
a young woman with long fire-red hair who had passed through
the compound a few years before- asking Thomas Cox if he
could throw light on her inquiry." Of course he could; this Irish
girl's aunt was the girl he had married twenty years before! Im-
mediately, she was sent for; and the happy retmion of the two
Irish girls was the occasion for a community celebration. Before
the celebration was half over, young Harmon had fallen madly
in love with his mother's niece; and before the year was out,
they were married. The bride's name was Jane Johns. (Chron.
Cox Family, New Jersey Archives).
Witchcraft became a plague in New England, and many thought
it reached its worst phase in the colony of New Jersey. Thomas
became concerned, as some of his close friends were involved.
Actually, he was already casting about for a safer place to live
when William Penn proposed to him that he assist in settling
Quakers on a large grant of land recently given Penn by the
King.
tional trip into the back country west of what is now Philadelphia,
Thomas made an option-agreement with Penn for the settlement
of a large area extending to what is now Pittsburgh. Forthwith,
he started negotiations for the sale of all his holdings in New
Jersey; and his sons and their families also sold out and moved
into the back counhy of Pennsylvania, taking the lead in open-
ing up the frontier wilderness. Thomas began settling Quaker
families from London in this virgin forest (Annals of William
Penn).
The venture looked promising. All seven sons of Thomas, with
their families, were prospering. Scores and scores of Quaker
settlers were moving in, clearing land and building houses. Har-
mon, the oldest son by the second marriage, was in the midst of
it, and had already cleared and was cultivating a square mile of
rich land. Thomas was staking a great many new settlers with
25
 food, implements and animals, extending hlniself to the limit in
making the enterprise a going concern. The settlers were suc-
ceeding in their ability to repay their obligations; and Penn looked
on the undertaking with great pride in the development of his
I
I
colony. Thomas, of course, was delighted at the success of his
seven boys as they led the other settlers in the taming of the
wilderness.
By now France and England were becoming bolder and bolder
in extending their claims on the new continent. England had
the advantage on the coast; France had followed up the Missis-
sippi and Ohio rivers, and was fairly well. established in Canada.
The English colonists were pressing westward and to the north;
the French were extending their forts eastward and to the south;
and it was only a matter of time until these two colonial giants
would collide. And collide they did, in the French and Indian.
War. The French began a systematic harassment of all English
settlements extending to the west, from West Virginia to Maine,
and the Quaker settlement of western Pennsylvania seemed to get
the worst of it. These fringe settlements were so far from the
seat of English power they had no military protection at all. To
check the spread of these settlements westward, the French em-
ployed mostly the disgruntled Indians whom the English had
driven north and westward. In fact, the most vicious among them
were fragments of the Tuscaroras, driven even from the colony
of North Carolina as far north as Quebec. Destruction of these
fringe settlements suited the Indians perfectly, for they reaped
a harvest of goods, provisions and livestock as they reduced
these frontier undertakings to rubble (Annals, Quaker Settle-
ments, Penn.).
Hundreds of Quaker settlers were annihilated; and only by
good fortune did the Cox men and their families escape with
their lives, straggling back and eventually reaching Philadelphia
exhausted and broke, having lost all of their possessions and
worse- their entire efforts for the last twelve. years.
Thomas, by now an old man, though grateful that his own
blood kin had returned without loss of life, had seen .his dream
and his fortune fade away (Penn's Notes, Hist. of the Col.).
26
l..
YANCEY'S FIRST NORTH CAROLINA FOREBEAR
Now the thing that Thomas Cox is remembered for is not
that he once had a lot of money, nor that he was a close friend
of William Penn, nor that he received the first Grant Deed in
America, nor that he was one of the proprietors of tl1e New
Jersey colony-none of these. It was this: He fortunately married
a redheaded Irish girl for his second wife!
It would be expected that some one of the six older brothers
of the first family would assume leadership of the family for-
tunes on their return to Philadelphia, and endeavor to reconstruct
a new policy to offset the debacle they had all suffered; .but all
the brothers of the first set seemed to accept their calamity as
a matter of fate. But not Harmon, the youngest of the pioneer
frontiersmen and the oldest son of the second family, whose
mother was of the "Fighting Irish."
The very next day after the sad procession arrived in Phil-
adelphia, Harmon and his wife, who also was an .Irish girl- the
niece of Harmon's mother, whom she had helped him marry seven
years before- were so wrought-up that Harmon's mother pro-
posed that all three of them should go to see William Penn in
his office. When they got there, Harmon begged Penn to allow
him to organize a local militia to give protection to the settle:s
still in danger of annihilation; but Penn would not hear of rt,
insisting that "in the long view eventual peace would be more
greatly enhanced by nonresistance." Then Ha~~10n's mother, re-
counting to Penn the plight of the seven faJWhes of her house-
hold returning from the western frontier :nith all resources e~
hausted, demanded immediate help from him. Before she left. his
office, Penh promised her that each m~e of the seven men might
have jobs inimediately, with pay, helpmg to. resettle the s~a~ms
of farmer-refugees from the devastated frontier (Annals, Wzlllam
Penn).
Now while this was fine for the time being, Harmon was con-
vinced 'that he could never be happy in any situation for long
if he had to rely entirely on what others might do to him or to
his family, without personal sel~-assertion. }Ie ca~e aw~y from
their conference with Penn convmced that nonresistal!-c.e would
be the policy of the Pennsylvania colony so. long as Wilham Pen~
was in control, even if the French and Indtans shoul~ press their
attack clear to Philadelphia. He could not accept this theory of
27
 government personally as "good practice," so far as his own
family was concerned; and his Irish mother and Irish wife
agreed with him.
Philadelphia was a great Quaker center, and delegations of
Quakers often assembled there from every Colony in the country.
Har!flon contacted many Quakers from afar, and without dis-
closmg to the rest of the family his intentions, he learned all
he could about the possibilities for settlement elsewhere. Within
a .month, to the amazement of all except his mother, he and his
w1fe Jane annou~ce~; "We have decided to migrate to the colony
of North Carolina. He had consulted with three prominent
Quakers from the New Garden Quaker Settlement-now Guilford
College, North Carolina- who had told him that land in that
~rea could be had in large grants; that the French and Indian
~nfluence in that region was of no consequence; that the settlers
m tha;. are~ were of a. cosmopolitan character; and that no group
or nanonality was trymg to dominate the others.
The whole family was astounded. Until then the Thomas Cox
family had been a close-knit unit, all working together as a team;
but now, for the first time, one of their number was breaking
away and going out on his own to a faraway colony to start
a new life without the help of the others.
Harmon's mother and Jane were very close, and quietly they
began assembling a vast list of things Jane would need as she
started life anew in a virgin forest in North Carolina. Soon the
others f~llowed. suit, a~d they all vied with each other collecting
seed, sp1ces, dishes, silver (mostly pewter) skillets a carder
spinning wheel, and so on; while the men coll~ted an ~nvil tongs'
bellows, plowshares, stilliards, leather, surveyor's compas;, seed
corn and wheat, barley and flax seed, axes and tools, a heavy
wagon and six Percheron horses, a choice "blooded" Percheron
yea~-old stud .colt, and supplies to last through the end ~f
the Journey, whJCh they expected would require about four months.
I.t looked for a while that Haimon's wagon would have to start
out alone, but finally two of Harmon's cousins joined them with
two more wagons. The parting was a sad affair- "prayers, tears
and ~any s~gn~ of great affection"- for a journey of this kind
was like res1gmng to a total separation forever.
Entering the Virginia colony at the lower end of the Shenan-
doah Valley, the road was fairly good until they reached the
upper end, and there it petered out to what was more like a trail.
28
The news of their coming had attracted a few other wagons in
Virginia to join them. In laying out plans for road-building from
there on, Harmon forced every new wagon to provide an extra
team, plow and other road tools, plus two men besides the driver,
as considera\ion for joining the "train." The trail they were
to follow hall been the principal Indian trail to the Piedmont
plateau of the Carolinas, and ouly a few hardy settlers had fol-
lowed it before them. But now there were twenty-one wagons in
all headed for North Carolina, and extensive clearing and road-
building had! to be done.
They cros~ed the Fluvana River at Looney's Ferry, then over
to the Stamiton River, down the Staunton through the Blue
Ridge, thence south, crossing the Dan River just below the mouth
of the Mayo, then on toward Salem to the mouth of Reedy
Creek. Here twelve wagons, mostly Moravians, left the main
train, turning off toward the Yadkin Valley, while Harmon's train
moved on to where the old Indian trail crosses the Haw. From
here on, the road got better, and soon they arrived at the New
Garden Quaker Settlement of about twenty houses, a distance
of 487 miles.
After this breakthrough, in 1751, general traffic increased
rapidly, and the route was henceforth known as "The Great
Wagon Road from the Yadkin to Philadelphia." In tl10se days
it was comparable in importance to the Oregon Trail of the
West, a hundred years later. Unlike the struggles of those who
had laid out the Oregon Trail, there were no attacking Indian
bands to fight, no famishing desert to cross; but Harmon's train
struggled with many streams and marshy crossings in making a
roadbed with limited hand tools. The trip was made in a little
less than three months' time. Jane, Harmon's wife, actually drove
the wagon most of the way.
A careful map was made of the route as the road-builders went
along; and this original map was preserved, and can be seen
under a big plate glass in the Smithsonian Museum in Wash-
ington (Amer. Researchers).
HARMON AND JANE CHOOSE THEIR HOMESTEAD
What a thrill to .arrive- to reach the New Garden Settlement
still on wheels and with no tragic experiences during the long
29
 journey to regret! Harmon felt pride in his engineering skill in
keeping up a steady movement of twenty-one wagons and suc-
cessfully negotiating several stream crossing without any serious
accidents. Jane took delight in driving the six-horse team a good
portion of the way; and little Thomas, their son, six years old,
held the reins part of the time. Even the little Percheron colt
tied on behind came through O.K.
They were met at the New Garden Settlement by one of the
men they had consulted with in Philadelphia. He was very help-
ful in sketching out some rough maps of the region and sug-
gesting certain promising areas to explore.
He sent them into the Deep River Valley where Harmon's
two cousins were headed, but a short trip convinced them that
even though the land was rich, it was cut up into parcels too
small to suit their plan. The next trip took them through the
Yadkin Valley, but the Moravians had taken up most of the
large holdings in that area. The third trip out was to the south,
crossing Deep River; and, catching the headwaters of Richland
Creek, they followed it down a few miles into a gently rolling
country; then, going up a smaller creek two miles, they came
upon a big spring pouring out a copious stream of cold water
on the side of a beautiful hill covered with oak and dogwood.
The spring was surrounded by willows, wild azaleas and honey-
suckle. The sweet odor of the colorful blossoms attracted their
attention a hundred feet away. They drank and drank, then
stretched out on the wild daisies and tall grass in the shade of The Old Home. was empty, after four remodeling jobs and two
the willows. They felt a strong urge to explore the surrounding
hundred years, of the original cbimn.ey and fireplace; and all the
area. They rode their horses a full mile in all directions, following
the little stream still farther as it wonnd its way up through woods. noises of the noted plantation had ceased. We spent the night
of white oak, hickory, yellow pine and dogwood. The land was here under the big maple tree, saw the fireflies, listened to the
gently rolling and fairly good soil. A sizable branch entered (he
whippoorwills, heard the hoot awls, and awoke in the morning
creek upstream, and that had to be explored, for it had con-
siderable meadowland and swampy areas along its channeL with the chorus of bobwhites and cooing doves.
They returned again to the spring after several hours of wan-
dering over the woodlands. Again they refreshed themselves with
a long drink of the cold, sparkling water gushing forth from the
hillside, and stretched out on the grass under the willows. The
sweet fragrance of the honeysuckles and wild azaleas, and the
perfect shade of the weeping willows, made the spot seem to
them so friendly and satisfying that time slipped away, and
almost before they knew it the sun was setting and the long

30
 shadows of the tall trees were beginning to produce an evening
afterglow the like of which they had never observed before. It
was so entrancing to watch the change from day to nightfall
that Jane thought it would be a "tragic mistake to leave before
morning." B:>: now the spring branch came alive with the croak-
ing of the night frogs; occasionally, a big bullfrog in the creek
below bellowed loud above the rest: "Butter-urn, butter-urn!"
And to their amazement, the fireflies- "lightning bugs," we called
them - bega~ speckling the darkoess as far as they could see.
Then soon the whippoorwills-six or eight in all directions-
began their generous introductions, keeping up the chorus long
into the night. They were intrigued with these sights and sounds.
The air was so balmy and soft that they lay entranced, without
covering, as the harvest moon came up through the trees. In
the night the hoot owls serenaded the newcomers- a weird call
they had never heard before; and as daylight began to break
into dawn, the bobwhites began to repeat their names. over and
I over, as if. to impress the newcomers with their cordiality as
well as their importance in the community. As the sun came up,
I the cooing doves started their romantic strains in the treetops,
and then a mockingbird seemed to take command of all the rest.
i (I am sure they heard all these things; for once, when my lady
I and I returned to the old plantation, camping out in our house
trailer under the huge maple tree in the front yard, sure enough
at dusk the lightning bugs began speckling the darkoess through-

I out the orchard, to the amazement of my city girl, who had

On this hearth the food of four generations was cooked in
pot, kettle and skillet, before even the most primitive
kitchen range could be had.
Around this hearth, learning was exalted, parents
respected, and God revered.
never seen them before. And the whippoorwills- about a dozen
of them in all directions- showed off to perfection; and later
on in the night, she woke up terribly scared when the hoot owls
started up their weird serenade; and at daybreak the bobwhites
took over.)
The night by the spring confirmed Harmon and Jane in their
decision to make this their future home. Instead of looking
further for a homestead, they saddled up and started back to
New Garden to make arrangements to acquire this land. As they
rode back, they couldn't forget the spring, the honeysuckle and
wild azalea fragrance and all the "varmints" they had seen and
heard, which made them feel they would surely be welcome in
their midst when they came back there to live. . . .

31

THEY BUILD THEIR HOME
As soon as homestead arrangements were made Harmon hacked
out a road and rolled his big wagon over to the spring. The
nearest settlers were about seven miles. Harmon and Jane had
established themselves once before in the wilderness of western
Pennsylvania; but now they were undertaking to tame the wilder-
ness a second time, with an even greater thrill and anticipation
than at first. They were convinced that in North Carolina the
atmosphere of individual independence seemed more favorable
and freedom of self-assertion more assured.
When they arrived on the land, they camped down by the spring.
Little Thomas was overjoyed playing in the spring branch with
the frogs. Above the spring a hundr.ed yards, the hill leveled
off; and here is where they decided to build their house. Har-
mon, with the help of two axemen from the Settlement, began
felling trees and hewing out logs for the house. They built a
whale of a chimney, with fireplaces on both sides. One fireplace
was so big, you could walk in and look out the top. It had a
crane in it for hanging pots. The chimney was ten feet square,
with a broad hearth of flat stones matched together. The lower
portion of the chimney was made of stones for the first twenty
feet up; while the upper eighteen feet were made of homemade
oversized brick, burnt in the brick kiln down by the creek.
With the aid of an axe and a few other tools, they were able
to build their house with materials found on the spot.
Under the hearth, and approachable from the cellar, Harmon
built a "safe''- a cavity about 12" x 24", three feet below the
hearth, with a square stone to fit the opening. When Yancey, a
hundred and fifty years later, was Treasurer of Randolph Coun-
ty, he often kept money and important papers in it temporarily,
safe against fire and theft. How little Harmon must have sus-
pected, when he was building this "safe," that Yancey, his
great-great-great-grandson, would sonie day be using it! He
thought big when he built that safe. They say: "You can tell
a man by his home."
When the chimney was completed, the logs were then ready
to lay up, after mortising the corners and chinking in between
with pure white clay mortar made with a mixture of horsehair.
The first portion of the house was 30' x 60'. No nails were used
32
at all an auger and wooden pegs were used to tie things to-
gethe;. The doors were hung on wooden hinges, with a "latch
and string hanging out." For cooking, coals of fire were raked
out on the hearth' a skillet set on. the coals, with more coals
placed on the skillet lid. This is how cornbread and biscuit were
baked for more than one hundred years before any sort of a
kitchen range was available.
About twenty years later, just before the Revolutionary_ War,
another addition was built on the opposite side of the chtmney,
when the other fireplace came into use. This addition of 30' x
60' two stories high made the house the largest in the county.
In 'the course of the'first few years, barns and other outbuildings
i
c
were erected comparable to the house. But before any of these
were built, a blacksmith shop and tannery were set up, often
i
running both day and night.
The first two years were rough going. Everything h~d to be
made by their own hands- trees cut down, brush pt!ed and
burned, fences built, the ground gouged up, stumps torn o~t,
and then came careful planting and harvesting. Long, hard tnps
had to be made to find livestock and fowls of a "blooded"
character. Hides were bought and tanned into leather, and scrap
iron was collected for making fanning tools in the shop. But
by this method, Harmon soon established a reputation for a plan-
tation where the neighboring settlers might come and get nearly
anything they needed -leather, farming tools, animals, fowls,
crockery or just good advice. And what made the whole spread
a succes~ was that Harmon accepted labor in lieu of cash, which
was a great accommodation, for Hatmon needed clearing, grub-
bing, fencing and planting even more than he needed cash. The
tannery and the blacksmith shop were. of the greatest benefit
to the neighbors. And, too, settlers for nules around soon, learned
the greater value in raising blooded stock, and Harmon s plan-
tation had the best of everything.
Now there is such a vast difference between the rugged pioneer
life of the early settlers and the modern-day soft existence that
it can scarcely be measured. Certainly, the contrast can't b_e
measured unless it can be understood; and to be understood tt
is essential to know how our early pioneers struggled against
the very elements to survive. Many not so fortunate as Harmon
and Jane, who had a few things to begin with, actually ~Jawed
from the earth with their bare hands the meager subststence
I! 33
l
 of a living for themselves and their offspring, never knowing
if they were going to make it through the first winter, huddling
together in dugouts or improvised shacks, and actually having
to "live off the land." Our youth of today should learn about
these hardships, for to know about colonial times is to appreciate
more fully our modern advantages.
Now a young couple may step into their late model compact,
cruise around the countryside on a paved road, observe a sign
which says: "Stop here! $95.00 moves you in-No down to
Vets." And if they wish to push their luck a little farther, they
can lay down another hundred and take one furnished, swing
over by the supermarket, pick up a "pre-cooked dinner" and
enjoy their favorite T.V. program while they eat their very
first meal in their brand-new home . . . all without any agon-
izing contrivance on their part.
But tliis modern miracle is very deceptive; we are inclined to
say, "It is just fine!" But back of this modern way of doing
things, our youth are growing up with too slight a part to play
in the "family process." Generally, .Dad's paycheck does it, and
about all the young folks do is to push the button and step
on the gas. They are almost ruled out of the whole process of
helping their parents provide food, clothing and shelter. No
chores to do, no responsibility to assume, no incentive to con-
trive, no idea of what a thing costs, how it was grown, or how
milk gets on the table. The child is almost cheated out of a
chance to play his part on the family team. He consequently
gets accustomed to sitting in the bleachers while Daddy plays
the game; eventually, though, he has to come down, often all
too suddenly, to take over where Dad leaves off, ill equipped
physically, mentally and spiritually to play "quarterback." It
is not the fault of our youth; it is the fault of our modern system.
Dependable character is built by assuming and discharging re-
sponsibilities, as pushups develop muscle. That is why "paper
boys" so frequently become big business men. Unless children
have an opportunity to feel their importance on the family team,
it is nearly impossible for them to develop into strong, sturdy,
dependable citizens. Responsibility develops moral fibre as
nothing else can do, and moral fibre builds character as nothing
else can do. Without responsibility, there is little chance for a
child to acquire moral and spiritual qualities or for the parents
to impart them.
34
Little Thomas, on the contrary, was growing up with every
day filled with responsibility from morning till night- the live-
stock to look after, the fences to patrol, the help on the farm
to supervise. He took over the general supervision of the plan-
tation frequently, whenever his father was away on business, and
helped his ~mother in a thousand ways with the smaller duties
of the household. He learned early how to shoe horses, harness
them and drive heavy wagons. Every chore was a challenge, but
every chore was essential for running the farm; and doing these
things soon developed within him a sense of mastery over the
common problems of life.
Youth in his day learned about life by doing what had to be
done for survival itself. They learned the importance of each
ingredient which went into every undertaking; and they learned
. that responsibility for each ingredient was fundamental to any
successful plan of action. Modern youth, by force of circum-
stances, are denied this intimacy with reality. They may read
about it in books; but lacking the opportunity to act it out
leaves them woefully unprepared to stand up to the rigid de-
mands of this fast-moving age.
Modern . pedagogy has not yet devised a substitute for ex-
perience. Unless children can be made to feel their importance
on the family team, it is nearly impossible for them to develop
into strong, sturdy, dependable citizens. Without this feeling
of being needed, and being depended upon, t11ere is little op-
portunity for a child to acquire moral and spiritual qualities.
By the tinle Harmon and Jane had established their home-
stead, the fear of Indian attack had almost subsided among the
settlers. Even the story of the terrible Tuscarora massacre in
one night of inore than two hundred settlers in the North Carolina
colony, many years before, had lost much of its frightening in-
fluence. For the Tuscaroras had long ago been exterminated,
as wei! as other remnants of hostile savages. However, a few
old-timers had developed .the art of storytelling to such a degree
that when they told certain Indian legends to little Thomas, he
and his mother sometimes imagined they heard "strange noises
at night time"; and in keeping with the traditions of the first
settlers, who had been plagued by marauding Indians, little
Thomas and his mother liked to keep a pot of water always
boiling over the fire and a red-hot poker always ready, in case
a stray Indian should try to push through an opening.
35
 One Indian legend which had persisted through the years
intrigued little Thomas no end. It told that an early tribe living
in that area, known as the "Yahoes," became so mean and
treacherous, like the Aukas of Ecuador, that the neighboring
Indians finally had to exterminate them; and the legend stated
that their headquarters was at a big spring. Little Thomas fig-
ured, for a certainty, that it meant his spring, for he had found
several arrowheads nearby very different from the common mn,
and these he thought must have been made by the Yahoes.
Now the word ''Yaha" has always seemed to have magic in
it. The word had been used from early times by the old settlers
to scare little children in the dark. Yancey used it on us-
and it surely got results! Anything he yelled at us was bad
enough. But when he screeched "Yaho!" it scared us nearly
to death. It seems to have the same effect on animals, too. You
just try yelling "Yaho!" at something, or somebody, and see
if they don't just about jump out of their skins!
An international team of twenty researchers of the Cox fam-
ily in America devoted an extra effort trying to lean~ what they
could about the social life of Harmon and Jane m the first
years as they opened up their plantation in the colony. Ac-
tually, only two letters of an~ value could ~e found a~ong_ all
their Pennsylvania relatives whiCh shed any hght on the sJtuatwn.
The first letter had been written by Harmon to his half-brother,
who later came down in search of a homestead. It said in part:
". . . not many left as large as our homestead . . . fairly good
soil . . . will . . . help hunt if you come . . . have several good
animals fairly well blooded- better than average ... the tannery
and blacksmith shop pays good profits. . . . I set lines with my
compass and often settle quarrels among the settlers. . . . I teach
little Thomas how to figure, while Jane helps him learn .to. read
and write. The Quakers at New Garden have brought in a
tutor. . . . Signed, Harmon."
The second letter was a little more revealing, written by Jane,
but it had ahnost faded ont. In part it said:
"Dear Mother: I am writing you with a goose quill and using
Poke Berry ink. . . . Little Thomas says he will write you some
day. . .. I am teaching him to read and write. He helps me with
the children of some of our workers on the place as I teach them
their letters and figures .... some women come to learn to make
crockery on my wheel. I have a kiln down by the creek. I raise
36
L
geese for feather beds, and peacocks for making long flybrooms
of their tail feathers for the English market. We have found
barks in our woods for dyeing cloth any color we choose to
make it. I jam sending this letter by our good friend of the New
Garden Seftlement. He said it took him eighteen days to make
the trip last time.... We are getting the New Garden tutor for
little Thomas for a week each month . . . we hope he will . . .
he is learning fast ... if all goes well I hope to. . . ."
And the! rest had faded out, but her name was legible: "Jane."
From these two letters it is plain that a special effort was
being made to help little Thomas learn as much as possible, and
that Jane was trying to help neighbor children learn something
while their parents worked on the plantation. There were. no
schools as such in the colony- only "tutors" here and there,
hired by persons or groups of persons, and considered as a luxury
even by those able to pay. And ouly a few could afford it. Hence,
it might as well be said that, generally, the children of the set-
tlers had no schooling, and very few learned to read and write
or sign their own names.
This paucity of educational effort .lasted ahnost fifty years, ex-
cept for the favored few who were sent away to boardingschools
or "institutes" in the larger cities.
During' this dark period, the importance of "intent" was ac-
centuated in all legal contracts and in all written understandings
in human relations. It was known as "the era of legal contracts
signed with a 'mark,' instead of the signatures of the principals."
Generally, an "X" was used, because men could not sign their
names. Those persons able to draw legal documents endeavored
to make the intent of the contract doubly clear, and the courts in
those days "ruled on intent, rather than on technicalities," to ac-
commodate the unlettered. It was also known as the period of
"unwritten agreements"- oral agreements made in the presence
of witnesses were adhered to as strictly as .if written- and "woe
be the man who ever broke his word!"
It has been said of this period that the early settlers in the
colonies and their progeny probably reached the highest peak in
human integrity in the history of America. Because of their rugged
frontier life, remotely detached from the common mechanics of
civilization, continually faced with the awful facts of survival, they
accustomed themselves to the reliability of their fellows. This
interdependability by force of circumstances developed in each
37.
individual a character and a reliability which left a profound
imprint on the history of America. It was wrought of assiduous
industry, courage devoid of personal fear, inventive ingenuity and
reliability to the death.
Harmon and J aue built their house- a big house, a substantial
house. And if their intention in building it was merely a place
to live, we would not be writing about them today. But they
built more than a house; they built a home. They looked far
beyond the concept of mere creature comfort and laid their plans
for rendering a wide range of services to their neighbors and to
their community- a tannery for making leather, a blacksmith
shop for making farming tools, a wheel and kiln for making
pottery, a new science in the countryside for developing "blooded
live stock," a reliable compass for setting lines between home-
steads, a "tutoring service" in the community; and this entire
program of activity was an incomparable schooling for little
Thomas, preparing him for canying on in his generation.
They built their house of logs, and logs eventually decay; but
they built their home with tangible evidences of deep regard for
their neighbors and fellow Americans, with things of the spirit,
which lasted on and on and eventually became a tradition.
HARMON HELPS KILL THE STAMP ACT
One day in March, 1765, Harmon came galloping up to the
gate with his horse in a lather and said:
"Jane, take over! I'll be gone a few days. The English Parlia-
ment has passed the Stamp Act. I'm going to see every respon-
sible man in the county."
He saddled another horse, imd away he went. They had heard
rumblings that such a thing might happen,. but hadn't actually
believed it would.
Under English law all the territory claimed in America be-
longed to the Crown. The King could withhold or give large or
small grants of land to a person or to companies bent on colon-
izing America. With the rush of thousands struggling to get to
America from every country in Europe, English merchant cap-
italists, eager to exploit the real estate in America, obtained from
38
the Crown large grants of land for colonization, together with
certain rights and privileges for collecting taxes and governing
the colony. Small farmers, large families, many who had little
or no savings and, of course, large numbers who had nothing at
all :"ere gh!d for aid furnished by the capitalists in getting started
up m the New World.
Altogether there were thirteen of the colonies, and they were
mostly under the proprietary form of government, being managed
by the proprietors, or capitalists, owning each colony. For the
first fifty to one hundred years, this plan worked fairly well,
although the taxes collected from the settlers seemed to them in-
creasingly severe. Eventually, the settlers began to resist the tax
burden; and when the Crown saw an opportunity to buy back
these colonies from the dissatisfied proprietors, the King took over,
for he thought the settlers would probably not dare resist the
payment of taxes to the Crown as they had been refusing to pay
the proprietors. Furthermore, the King wanted all the revenue,
instead of a percentage which he had been getting through the
proprietors. But it was a sad day for the settlers when these deals
were made, for immediately the Crown increased the taxes and,
in some cases, doubled them. Shortly thereafter, the Stamp Act
was imposed, which embittered the colonies clear down to the
individua~ settler, for it affected every person who bought goods
from England, to the tune of a few pence to several pounds on
each article. The greatest anger was expressed by lawyers, states-
men and publishers, for they had been preaching "freedom" for
some time now and railing against taxes imposed without colonial
consent. The heaviest ''fines" were placed on publishers, for each
article they wrote. In all classes of merchandise, the "stamp"
cost was umeasonably excessive, and the Act set the whole thir-
teen colonies in flame.
The resentment of the citizenry had by now reached such frenzy
that the lawyers and statesmen took up the fight not only by
public utterances but by writing profound documents for publica-
tion, railing against the injustices to the colonies by the mother
country. And, promptly, the "stamp for excessive revenue" was
placed on every article printed, as if definitely designed to stifle
the clamor for justice and liberty. Jefferson stressed the right of
every citizen to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Tom
Paine and John Adams challenged the right of the King or par-
liament to impose the Stamp Act without regard to the people's
39
sense of fairness. Samuel Adams, in his series of articles, caught
the imagination of the colonies from Massachusetts to North
Carolina in his famous declaration: "No taxation without rep-
resentation."
Such as these were the writings on which the "excessive stamp
charge" was made, which not only enhanced the resentment of
the citizenry when they learned abont it but enraged the states-
men of the time, who now doubled their efforts to declare for
total independence from Britain.
When Harmon returned about a week later, he said: "Jane,
we have resolved, so far as Randolph Country is concerned, to
boycott the English market, till the Stamp Act is repealed."
Without waiting to learn what other counties or colonies had
done about it, every settler in Randolph County was immediately
nrged to stand firm on refusing to buy anything "made in Eng-
land.'' Within a few weeks, news began to come through that
other counties, and indeed whole colonies, had also boycotted
the English market, with plans proposed for each settler to begin
borrowing, loaning or exchanging articles among themselves, as
well as making anything needed to get along. Looms were made
and spinning wheels; flax and wool were spun and woven into
cloth. English ships stood in the harbor for weeks unloaded and,
after tluee months, returned to England still unloaded.
Then, as if the Stamp Act were not a sufficient insult, another
even more inflammatory act was passed by parliament on the
heels of the Stamp Act. It was the Quartering Act, which was
designed to force the American settlers to "house and feed the
British soldiers sent to enforce the Stamp Act." This was the
last straw needed to embroil the whole country and cause a gen-
eral Colonial Stamp Act Congress to convene, where the leading
colonial statesmen dared for the first time to formulate and
speak out, using such expressions as: "No taxation without rep-
resentation." And throughout the colonies, men, farmers a~d
mechanics organized into "Sons of Liberty," and the women or-
ganized into "Daughters of Liberty," often marching through the
villages chanting, "Boycott the English market! Let's get on
with what we have."
The boycott throughout the colonies was so effective that even
the English merchants, who felt the results of it most, finally
urged parliament to repeal the Stamp Act.
When the Stamp Act was repealed, there wasn't a single settler
40
L__
throughout the colonies who failed to feel the thrill of sensing,
that he, at long last; was an integral part of a young nation
glimpsing the light of a new day when American independence
might soon be a reality.
Harmon! Cox stopped everything he was doing to use his in-
fluence in 'organizing resistance to injustice, in forcing the repeal
of the Staiup Act; and men like him were indispensable to the
cause of freedom. They were alert to the threat of tyranny and
refused to become accustomed to intimidation. Their resolute
resistance 'in the North Carolina colony equaled and paralleled
the same brand of patriotism in the other colonies, and this sort
of patriotism touched off a wave of indignation which culminated
in the Declaration of Independence.
THE CIRCUIT RIDERS
Along with those who escaped their native lands for political
and religious reasons came others who escaped .because . of the
crimes they had committed. The colonies illled up with all kinds
of people, and while one might think that in a new land every-
body would start out with a clean slate and stmggle to keep the
record clean, yet human nature is so constituted that evil in-
fluences within the colonies soon gained ascendancy; and wherever
people congregated, superstition and lax moral standards devel-
oped to an astounding degree. This was partly due to an almost
total lack of moral, religious and cultural leadership. The settlers
generally had left those influences behind, and in their new fron-
tier life no leaders had yet arisen to divert their minds toward
moral, religious or cultural standards of conduct. Neither was
there any directed effort toward supervising recreational or amuse-
ment activity. About the only diversion available was in the
liquor taverns, debauchery and immorality. In such. a condition
of society, superstition, immoral excesses and Witchcraft ran
rampant, drawing many otherwise well-meaning persons into
entangling predicaments.
Only a few towns of size had yet developed in the colonies, and
in these there was usually a church or two and a preacher; but
even in some of these towns, schools had not yet been started.
The majority of the settlers lived on homesteads scattered far
41
 and wide, far ont toward the logging camps where the wilderness
was being tamed. There were probably a few persons interested
in the educational and cultural development of the frontier set-
tlers, but very slightly. Only the Mission Boards, actually, did
anything about reaching out to them with any help at all, social,
religious or cultural.
In the early seventeen hundreds, the preaching of John Wesley
and John Knox in England had stirred that country to the core.
Moral conditions had become so bad that even in "civilized Eng-
land" many feared the danger of slipping back into barbarism.
The effects of the great revivals in England were soon felt in
America. George Whitefield caught the spirit. of Wesley, came
to America and began preaching in Boston as no other minister
in the American colonies had done before. He even attracted
snch in1portant men as Benjamin Franklin, John Hancock and
Thomas Jefferson, who up to now had paid little attention to the
clergy. The moral standard of the people, generally, especially
in the towns of size, had deteriorated to a dangerously low de-
gree, and those who were struggling to maintain honor and
decency rallied to Whitefield's ministry with enthusiasm. The effect
was cumulative, and his influence spread southward through the
colonies. Soon other stalwarts joined the ranks, like Peter Cart-
wright and Charles Finny. Mission Boards were set up to give
those who had some substance an opportunity to extend the in-
fluence of the gospel. The influence of Cartwright and the others
had so changed the moral aspect of the towns in Massachusetts
that nearly everyone was convinced that the settlers in the back
country should also be reached, even though they were scattered
(Notes, Ch. Hist. Mass. Col.).
Willie Whitefield may be considered the father of the great
religious movement in colonial tinles, Peter Cartwright and Charles
Finny were mostly responsible for developing the movement called
the "Circuit Riders," for carrying the inspiration of religion to
the settlers on the frontier:
"They recruited and trained men with proven religious zeal to
go out on horseback, carrying religious tracts and hymn books
in their saddlebags, to the very farthest settler, calling house to
house, logging camp to logging camp, to liquor taverns and gen-
eral stores, talking to persons and preaching to groups. They
were welcomed by families, but were at first suspicioned by the
rough elements in logging camps and taverns, and were often
42
'rotten-egged,' and persecuted by other methods; eventually, how-
ever, the Circuit Riders usually won their confidence after two
or three visits" (Archives of Church History).
It soon became evident to all that a stable society was essential
on a frontier, and that a moral standard of conduct was also an
aid to progress. As communities developed, places of meetings
were arranged, gradually churches were built, and sometimes the
Circuit Rider remained as the local tutor-teacher or pastor of
the community church. Later on, as towns developed and back
country settlers increased, the "Camp Meeting" idea came to
the fore. 'Great preachers like Cartwright and Finny made a
special trip south to outlying communities. These were grand oc-
casions and became the outstanding events in the social life of
the colonies up to this time; settlers came for miles around to
hear the greatest preachers of the day, camping out in the open
for a whole week.
Harmon and Jane became worried about the moral laxity in
Randolph County; and together with a group of Quakers at the
New Garden Settlement, a request was sent in 1769 to Whitefield
in Massachusetts mging him to "send a preacher of strong per-
sonality and spiritual zeal to our North Carolina Colony to help
us lift the moral tone of our citizenry."
The message was carried in person on horseback by a Quaker
of the New Garden Settlement. It took hinl seventeen days to
reach Boston; and when he delivered the message, Whitefield
was by now so snowed under with similar requests that he sent
word back that "it might be some months before any one could
come."
It was no easy matter for Whitefield to recruit men of suitable
religious zeal and. general intelligence who were willing to give
up their regular occupations, leave their families behind and go
some hundreds of miles into strange territories to try to arouse
tl1e common herd of settlers from their moral and spiritual
lethargy. The idea of it was bad enough, but the execution was
possible only by those rare souls we sometimes read about but
seldom see.
Whitefield, though a Meiliodist, cared little for "denomination"
and recruited men of any persuasion whom he iliought he could
trust to stand up to the task. Altllough the Quakers had asked
for this sort of "help," Whitefield finally sent two Baptists, and
they didn't arrive until nearly three years after he got the call
43
in 1772. Their names were Dan Marshall and Shubel Stearns.
Now, probably some of the Quakers soou wondered which was
worse- community moral and spiritual turpitude or "getting ad-
justed to the two Baptist preachers." Their methods and religious
zeal was such a "shock to the Quakers" that, after the first "meet-
ing" at the Quaker Church, "no further attempt was made to
work together again." The two new preachers had been sent
out by the "Boston Missionary Board"; and while they had come
to the Quaker community by request, they "felt under no obliga-
tion to modify their plans, methods or procedure, to ingratiate
themselves in the esteem of the Quakers." They had come on
horseback, and they rode away on horseback. If the Quakers
were shocked at them, so were they at the Quakers. It was
mutual; but, fortunately, their objective was the same.
The two preachers soon established themselves at Sandy Creek,
notfar from New Garden, and from this headquarters they radiated
out in all directions about a hundred miles, sometimes together,
but generally separately. They carried with them in their saddle-
bags hymn books mostly by Charles Wesley, religious tracts and
Bibles, contacting every settler, and every congregating place,
talking to persons and preaching to groups at saw mills, logging
camps, gambling houses, saloons, boardinghouses and country
stores. Within two years, they had "established forty-two meet-
ing places, most of which were increasing in numbers."
The Quakers were thankful for the results in general, but were
upset when Harmon's son Thomas all but joined the Baptists. He
got so interested in their undertakings that he not only helped
them set up a meeting place at Cox's Mills but helped the Bap-
tists build two churches in the county. Thomas' son Abel also
became very active in helping the Baptists, and tried to get the
Quakers to co-operate. This religious zeal in that part of North
Carolina lasted by and large more than fifty years; and Abel's
son Harmon gave expression to it by freeing his slaves and not only
building a Quaker church on his plantation but helping the
Negroes build a church on land which he donated (Annals, Cox
Family in America).
If you are inclined to discount the good sense of all this effort,
or the sincerity and unselfish spirit of these Circuit Riders, let
me relate these facts from the diary of Dan Marshall:
"In this month of even four weeks, on horseback, I covered
four hundred and seventy-five mHes, preached eighty-seven times
44
at twenty-seven places, including eight liquor taverns, got 'rotten-
egged' once, talked to one hundred and sixty-nine families, slept
in barns seventeen nights, in haystacks three, and baptised eighty-
seven souls." And then he added: "My salary for the year is
set at $80!00; it is now the seventh month, and I have received
to date only $30.00." .
I sure hope Dan Marshall was one of my kin. Or was he yours?
No matter whose kin he was, he left a very priceless heritage to
somebody; and we all owe a debt to his memory (Ashe, Hist. of
N.C.).
Through wind and rain, sleet and snow, these Circuit Riders
"went through," often hacking out their own trail, making their
impact on ignorance, arrogance, jealousy, indecency, indulgence
and superstition. Though poorly prepared, they brought with
them hope, courage, cheer, news of the outside world and a
degree of religious inspiration which supported the settlers in their
lonely struggles on the frontiers of our America.
I salute the Circuit Riders for carrying on their task with a
fortitude which surpasses my comprehension!
And my great-grandmother once said:
"One of the best things the Circuit Riders did for the country
was to distract the interest of the people away from. witchcraft
and superstition. Within a short time after they came we seldom
heard any more about 'witches,' 'hants,' 'witch doctors' or the
value of carrying a 'rabbit's foot.' When once people set their
affections on things eternal, all this superstition foolishness van-
ished from their minds- and good riddance of bad rubbish!"
HARMON HELPS ORGANIZE THE REGULATORS
Now everyone familiar with the early history of North Carolina
knows about the "Regulators," but of course the people up
around Concord and Lexington still believe that their forebears
"fired the shot heard round the world" -which they did! For-
tunately, they had some mighty good advertising! And their
"skirmish" occurred more in the center of things. The North
Carolina colony was somewhat offbeat, and we hadn't yet pro-
duced any poets. But we had produced some patriots who gave
account of themselves without waiting to learn what others were
45
 doing up North. The North Carolina patriots fought "The Battle
of Alamance," in which there were "about thirty casualties on
both sides," four years before the Battle of Concord; and wllile
we would not try to dehact one iota from the signillcance of Con-
cord, I would like to shore up in your nlinds the importance of
"Alamance" . . . and, of course, the principal reason for this is
that Harmon Cox helped organize the settlers into a unit of
resistance known as "Regulators"- so named because they re-
sisted special levies, beyond "regular taxes."
Naturally, when the Stamp Act failed to bring in the expected
revenue, the Crown contrived other ways to do it. The very next
year after the Stamp Act was repealed, parliament passed the
Revenne Act, which laid special levies on many things like glass,
paper and tea. Then, following this, a special Tea Act was passed
in 1773, which led up to the episode of the Boston Tea Party.
Also, other pressures were especially designed to fit situations in
various colonies. In North Carolina, the excuse for a "special
tax" was for the purpose of building the colonial governor a new
mansion. Well, to the settlers struggling under an already un-
bearable tax load, the idea of another special tax at this time to
accommodate the governor with a luxury mansion not only seemed
unnecessary but preposterous.
At first, the embroiled settlers decided to ignore the demand.
The governor's agents began pressing for pa)'rnent, and some of
the farmers gave in, and paid in some cases by sacrificing some
of their livestock. The situation soon became so . tense that "a
general meeting of the farmers was called at Cox's Mill in Ran-
dolph County, and over four hundred men responded." At this
meeting, incidents of excessive pressure were related, resolutions
were adopted, and "a committee was appointed of eight of the
leading citizens of the County, of which Harmon Cox was chair-
man, to draw up a special appeal to the Governor with reasons
why his demands for these special taxes were unfair, unjust, and
tyrannical" (Ashe, Hist. of N.C.). The committee met that same
night at Cox's Mill, and by daybreak sent their written appeal
to the governor. The governor forthwith read the appeal and
commented by memorandum that "the document was well drawn,
written with much candor, and reflects much credit on its author,"
but gave the messenger no further comment. The messenger re-
turned with no encouraging word.
On the second day, another general meeting was held at the
46
same place; and while the meeting was in session, a courier rushed
in to state tlmt "a sheriff in a nearby neighborhood has just for-
cibly taken a farmer's horse from the plow, in lieu of cash, and
fled with ,it." At this, the meeting broke up. "The men rushed
out, seizec[ their guns, mounted their horses, and finally overtak-
ing the sheriff fifty miles away, tied him up, repossessed the horse,
roughed up a bunch of bystanders, and returned home" (Ashe,
Hist. of N. C.).
The farmers had taken the situation in hand, protecting their
neighbor imd resolving to defend each other from the agents of
the governor trying to extort taxes in excess of what was regular.
The governor could not take this insult to his sheriff without a
show of force. But when he sent a detachment of his soldiers
against the frenzied settlers, our resolute. farmers met force with
force, and the Battle of Alamance ensued, with a loss of about
thirty casualties on each side on May 16, 1771 (Ashe, Hist.
of N.C.).
The Battle of Alamance in tl1e South ranked with the Battle
of Concord in the North. Indeed, it may have even had greater
significance, for it was fought four years earlier and with more
casualties on both sides, and may well have enhanced the courage
of the Concord farmers to fight. Both of these battles were fore-
runners of the Revolutionary War soon to come; and the men
who participated in them were a cross-section of the vast rank
and file of sturdy pioneer stock soon to rise up with one accord
and, to the amazement of the whole world, wrest American in-
dependence from King George of England.
I am proud that my first North Carolina forebear, Harmon.
Cox, helped with it; and knowing the kind of horses he had, I
cannot imagine he was far behind when the sheriff was "tied up."
EARLY FOLKLORE- "SAYINGS" AND "REMEDIES"
The North Carolina colony was slow in its beginnings. It lacked
harbor facilities; there was fearful piracy along the coast; and the
Tuscarora massacre of several hundred early settlers also dis-
couraged many who would have come. Actually, the colony filled
up with hundreds of dissatisfied emigrants from other colonies.
There was a fair cross-section of most of the nationalities of
47
Europe. English predominated, then Scotch-Irish, Dutch German,
Welsh, and only a scattering of French Huguenots.
The colony was under the proprietorship form of government
until 1729, when it was taken over by the Crown and ruled by a
governor appointed by the Crown. It was then that there was a
very strong effort made to make the "Church of England the
established church in the colony." But even though English set-
tlers were predominant, there was general resistance to the idea.
In fact, the English settlers were the strongest opponents to it.
They well remembered the harsh treatment some of their fore-
bears had endured after the Church of England gained its ascen-
dancy in the mother country. The effort lasted for a while; in
fact, it became quite a hassle, and so much pressure was put on
about three hundred English newcomers that they moved right
on out of the Tidewater region, up and on into the Blue Ridge,
settling in the ahnost inaccessible coves of the mountains. Here
they figured they had at last really found American liberty-
back so far in the hidden recesses of the mountain coves "that
no church officials or government officials could put pressure on
us to do anything or not to do anything." And as a matter of
actual fact, their guess turned out to be "ahnost perfect," for ever
since then (for about two hundred and twenty-five years) their
progeny have stayed right there, and still think "they have more
liberty than anybody else"! They make more "moonshine liquor"
illegally than the.rest of the state manufactures legally. Yes, Sir!
And if you have any doubt about it, I suggest you ask "Uncle
Sam's revenoo'ers" in that area!
Now the strange thing about this migration of English settlers
to the mountains in 1730 is that they so completely escaped the
influences of civilization that, in their semi-seclusion, they have
retained certain of their old English "cnstoms" and "words" ~
the very cnstoms and words used by the common people of the
back country of England in the Elizabethan era. On any leisurely
trip up through Asheville and on through the (Jreat Smokies into
Tennessee, especially if yon get off the beaten paths, yon will
find the purest form of early English language in the world. One
will hear in common conversation words like "fetch" and "tote,"
"InommOck," "pester," and "heckter," and "tirn"- "fetch a- tirn
of wood,"- "nary" and "ary"- their modern form of "ne'er
a" and "e'er a" of obsolete English.
48
"Tastes" and "nestes" and "beastes" and similar plurals bring
to memory the pilgrims to Canterbury. Also, one will hear "veriest"
as in "veriest antic" in "the Taming of the Shrew," and some-
times "norated," which means to broadcast.
Also, irl these mountains one will observe evidences of strictly
and distin,ctively English folldore "sayings" and "remedies."
Now, North Carolina caught a double dose of folldore, for it
was the "refuge" of so many unhappy settlers from all the other
colonies. Samples of "sayings" and "remedies" were jumbled up
together- folldore from every country in Europe. Much of it
was so similar that one wonders just what was strictly indigenous
to any country in particular. No one knows how it originated in
the first place, nor where.
Sickness, hunger and the elements have dogged the human race
through the ages; and to prevail against their foes, humans have
resorted to every device which could be contrived with reason;
. and with this failing, they entered the reahn of "superstition."
The primitive mind seizes on "tabus" and "fetishes" -things to
"avoid," things to "hang on to." They imagine themselves in
"chains" or being. "hanted" or "bewitched" or "hexed''; and they
naturally turn to something or somebody for help. Qnite handy,
always is the "witch doctor," the "conjurer" or the "medicine
man" who agrees to "break the chains" and "hex" or "un-hex,"
as the case may be, using "abracadabra" language, or other double-
talk, always confusing and further entangling the "patient," lead-
ing him deeper and deeper into the mesh of entanglements. There
is a "fee," of course; however, the evasive "conjurer" generally
manipulates from the "patient" a "gift" instead of a fee . . .
and both the "doctor and the patient endeavor to keep their
identity in the shadows."
In. all stratifications of society there is evidence of this primitive
superstitious chicanery. How often have I heard a fisherman say,
"Now I'm going to spit on this bait, and catch a whopper." I
know a doctor who wears a rabbit's foot on his watch chain.
And when a Realtor associate of mine saw a black cat cross the
street in front of him, he trnned his car around in the middle of
the block and returned to the office, saying: "No deal today; I'll
call the prospect and make a new appointment." Where I grew
up, there must have been at least a hundred sayings such as these,
heard constantly in everyday conversation:
49
 Birds of a feather will flock together.
Water seeks its own level.
Play with fire and you're sure to get burned.
Poor dog tray- caught in bad company.
Associate with trash, and soon you're called trash.
The borrower is servant to the lender.
You can't make silk purses out of leather.
A stitch in time saves rune.
A chain is no stronger than its weakest link.
An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
A smart Alec soon runs out of friends.
Where there is smoke there must be fire.
We frequently heard such expression as these when I was
growing up: "I'm not sure for certain." "Tain't worth a hill of
beans." "Fish or cut bait," or, "Put up or shut up." To de-
monstrate a lively anger is to "pitch a fit." Something done ex-
pertly was done "slick as a whistle." Something certain was
called "as sure as you're born." Anything huge, bigger than usual,
was called a "catawhampus of a thing." For waiting to really
know there was "Waiting for the dust to settle," or, for the "water
to clear," or "see how the land lies," or "how the chips fall."
About a smart person, "There's no flies on him," or "He's mak-
ing the chips fly." About two candidates for the same office,
"Two sqrurrels after the same nut ain't uncommon friendly." One
tries to "get even" with his careless neighbor by saying, "I'll
learn him." "Air" is frequently heard for are and is, "He
air a good man," or "They air good people." About a boastful
person, "I've head the wind blow before." "Snuck" is sometimes
used for sneak, like, "The hunter snuck up on the bear." Being
too busy for something is, "I've got other fish to fry."
A few exclamations: "Good gracious," "Mercy me," "For the
land's sakes," "My goodness," "For heaven's sakes," "My
Stars,'' "You're kidding," "I'll swan," "What do you 1mow?"
"Shut your mouth," "For the love of Mike," and "Great day .in
the morning." And the Negroes ahnost universally used to ex-
claim, "Lord o'mercy!"- whether it was a calamity or even a
windfall of good fortune. _ recommended for aches and pains, and actually does have some
Poor Richard's Almanac was memorized by everybody; and the
sayings attributed to Ben Franklin, which represented the epigram-
50
matic wisdom of eolorual times, were overworked by nearly
everybody.
A few .sayings you may have heard:
i
To drop a comb is bad luck.
To drop a pin is good luck.
To see a white horse is good luck.
A whistling girl and a crowing hen always come to a bad end.
There are probably a score of sayings about love and marriage.
An old familiar one is:
A bride should go to the altar, with something old, something new,
Something borrowed, something blue,. and with a dime in her shoe.
Doubtless, "remedies'' exceeded the "sayings." There were
literally scores for "taking off a wart," like:
Rub a wart with a penny, and throw the penny away.
Pick a wart with a pin, make it bleed, rub the blood on a
grain of corn, and then throw the corn to the rooster.
Snake eggs are good for stammering.
Tobacco juice will cure a bee sting.
To cure the toothache, apply a poultice of salt, soda, hops,
tobacco juice and vinegar.
Pickle a rattlesnake in whiskey, and drink a cup of the juice
night and morrung.
Whew!
Now, quite apart from the superstitious and. magic-cha~
remedies, there was another realm of early curative art which
bordered on the sensible and the scientific- even though the
amulet hanging around the child's neck, with asafetida in it to keep _
spring sickness away, may have been a sort of link between.
The early-day grandmothers strongly believed in the value of
certain herbs for medicinal purposes. Willow-bark tea was strongly
of the beneficent effects of aspirin. Snakeroot was widely used
by my grandmother as a tranquilizer, to help one go to sleep.
51
 Gensing was gathered on our plantation by the very first Chinese
we had ever seen, which later confirmed Grandmother's belief
in its medicinal qualities. Gentian was an herb which she used
"to stop blood," also fenugreek, ginger root and ergot. And, of
course, I should not omit the old standby, "sulphur and molasses
for a purge in the springtime."
To this also might be added a number of "teas," made of
several kinds of roots, barks and twigs, such as spicewood, camo-
mile and alfalfa leaves.
On our farm we had an abundance of sassafras- the very same
kind that Sir Walter Raleigh got excited over back in the fifteen
hundreds when he took several tons of it back to England from
the coast of North Carolina. It is a delightful drink, and can be
purchased at the better food markets. It had a high rating by
Grandmother as a spring tonic, and was supposed to "purify
the blood." Rube Brown used to say, "Yancey, tell me where I
can dig some sassafras root; I'm getting worried about my old
carcass, and I believe it must be the time of year when I need
to 'shed'"!
HARMON AND THE WAR FOR INDEPENDENCE
The pugnacious actions of Harmon Cox and some other Quaker
men in the county, in connection with the "Regulator Episode,"
created quite a lot of commotion in the Quaker meeting of that
neighborhood. Harmon was ahnost "let out," and a few others
were "disowned." But he was not "half-Irish" all for nothing. He
had seen the whole western half of Pennsylvania overrun and
the settlers' plantations destroyed for lack of resistance, and
he resolved to use his influence in organizing resistance to in-
justice if ever such an occasion again arose. The Stamp Act
gave him the first opportunity to organize united resistance in
the county, and now the "Regulator Episode" was the second.
He had shown his determination and ability, and the people of
the county looked to him as a leader. His son Thomas, by now,
was a young man who could handle the stock plantation; and
Harmon, in addition to his surveying and legal duties, was devot-
52
ing more and more of his attention to matters affecting the citizens
of the county.
Things had quieted down after the Battle of Alama_nce. The
pressure for: the "special tax" in our county had been Withdrav:n;
but over in Mecklenburg County the coloma! governor was begm-
ning to press the farmers severely for the very tax Randolph
County had so effectively resisted. The struggle kept up for ty;o
years; and, finally, the settlers in that county called a meetmg
of protest. Important men from several adjoining counties came
to the meeting. They drew up resolutions known as the "Meck-
lenbmg DeClaration" of May 31st, 1775, in which "the. settlers
declared they would resist to the death the payment of megular
taxes without their own consent."
Harmon Cox attended the Mecklenburg meeting. He rode
a horse one hundred miles to be there, and when the matter of
"mustering men and supplies" came up for consideration in t~e
convention it was recorded that "Harmon Cox offered on his
own perso~l account twenty horses and one hundred h':ad of
steer on ten days' notice, and was hailed by the conventwn as
the leader of our forces in Randolph County" (Mecklenburg
Declaration, May 31st, 1775).
Such meetings of protest as these occurred throughout the
colonies. Soon word came of the Battle of Concord and of the
Boston Tea Party. British soldiers were sent I? Massachusetts
under General Gage. A Continental Congress advised each colony
to form a government of its own; and, "On April 13, 177~, No~th.
Carolina authorized its delegates with full power, to umte With
the others in boldly declaring independence." One after another
of the colonial congresses met, declaring for independence; and,
finally, tl1e Continental Congress drew up and signed the De-
claration of Independence on July 4th, 1776 . . . and then the
War for Independence was on, with no holds barred. .
Now it is amazing to me how little the average A~encan
knows about the tribulations om forefathers endmed dunng the
next five years and how little we understand what the odds were
against us. . . .
years of tmmoil and strife leading np to this. cru~tal moment
had finally separated the Whigs from the Tones m ou~ own
citizenry. It had been no easy matter for mo:n of a long. !me. of
English ancestry to suddenly renounce al!egmnce to. thetr Kmg
53

and, henceforth, resolve to fight for independence. But the fateful
day of decision had come, and the responsible men of the colonies
in their most solemn hour, had formed What Burke called "part:
nersillp between the living and the dead, and the yet unborned,"
resolving to "fight to the death for independence."
The "Thirteen Colonies" had now declared war on England
-the most powerful nation in the world. They had only just
n~w formed a new government of their own for fighting this war;
With no backlog of resources for fighting it. They hastily made
George Washlngton Commauder-in-cillef, but with no national
army for him to command. All he had to begin with was seg-
ments of colonial militia scattered from North Carolina to Mas-
sachusetts, ill trained and poorly equipped. The immediate and
desperate military situation forced upon hlm the humiliation of
"begging enlistments from the citizenry," first for three months,
. then for six months, with no real assurance of pay or even "army
larder."
For Quartermaster General, Washlngton appointed Colonel
John Cox, a wealthy Quaker of Trenton, who was the unci e of
our Hannon Cox. When he learned that ills nephew had offered,
at the time of the Mecklenburg Declaration, twenty horses and
one hundred head of steer for the cause of independence, he sent
for Harmon and placed hlm in charge of "procurement." A whole
chapter might be written on the ingenuity of Harmon in the
months ahead as he rounded up supplies for the army.
Right at this point, I am tmning the spotlight on a page of
American history which has been too hurriedly passed over by
every writer about the American Revolution. It is the story of
what happened to the signers of the Declaration of Independence.
Who were these men? Why did they sign? And what hap-
pened to them after they signed?
We are somewhat familiar with the events leading up to the
signing of the document; we know that Jefferson is credited with
composing it and that John Hancock's signature is on it; we
know that a terrible conflict followed; and that eventually we
gained our independence- but what happened to the. signers?
History books have not bothered much to tell us.
But here is what happened- and it should engage the atten-
tion of every American. The facts are these, documented by Paul
Harvey, who has graciously sent me the result of his personal
reseruch:
54
IL.
i!
I
,,
'.1
'I
"In Pennsylvania State House, called Independence Hall in
Pillladelphia, the best men of the colonies sat down together. It I
was a fortunate hour in our nation's history, one of those rare j
.occasions in, the lives of men when we had greatness to spare. I
"These w~re men of means, well educated. Twenty-four were
lawyers and; jurists. Eleven were merchants. Nine were farmers :1
and owners of large plantations.
"Jefferson finished a draft of the document in seventeen days. i
Congress adopted it in July. . . .
"King George III had denounced all rebe~ m Amenca as
traitors and punishment for treason was hangmg.
1
"Th~ names on the document were kept secret for six months,
for each signer knew the full meaning of. th~t m~gnificent last
paragraph in which his signature pledged h1s lzfe, his fortune and
his sacred honor. .
. "Fifty-six men placed their names beneath that pledge- m
effect, actually underwTiting the initial ~osts of the war.. J\nd
those fifty-six men knew that when they signed, they were nsking
everything. If they won this fight the best they could expect wou!d
be years of hardsillp in a struggling nation. If they lost, they d
face a hangman's rope. .
"But they signed- and they did, indeed, pay the pnce.
"Carter 'Braxton of Virginia, wealthy planter and tr~der, saw
his sillps swept from the seas. He lost his home, all his proper-
ties, and died in rags. .
"Thomas Lynch, Jr. was a large plantation o~er a~d n~e
grower, an aristocrat. His health failed, and he sailed With ills
wife for France, but ills ship never got to France.
"Thomas McKean of Delaware was so harassed by the enemy
that he moved his family five times in five months, .then. ~erved
in Congress without pay, ills family in poverty and m hidi.ng.
"The properties of Ellery and Clymer and Hall and Gwmnett
and Walton and Heyward and Rutledge and Middleton were
looted and destroyed. . . .
"Thomas Nelson of Virginia raised two m11Iion dollars on ~Is
own signature to purchase. war provi~ions. ~fter the war ~e paid
back the loans, which wiped out ~s entire ~state. Durmg th:
war Cornwallis occupied ills palatial home; It was destroyed,
he died a bankrupt, and was buried in an. unmar~ed grave.
"The Hessians seized the home of Francis Hopkmson of New
Jersey.
55
 "The home of Francis Lewis was destroyed his wife im-
prisoned, died in a few months. ' '
"Richard Stockton was captured and mistreated his health
broken, his estate pillaged. He died at an early age '
:;rhomas Heyward. was captured when Charlest~n fell.
John Hart was dnven from his wife's bedside while she was
dyin~; hi~ thirteen children fled for their lives in all directions.
He lived m caves in the forest, his wife dead, his children. gone;
and he soon died of exhaustion and a broken heart.
"Lewis Morris saw his holdings destroyed and his family
scattered.
"Phillip Livingston died within a few months from hardships
of war.
"John H~ncock, one of the wealthiest men in New England,
stood m1;e rught, as Boston was burning, and said: 'Burn, Boston,
thou~ 1~ makes John Hancock a beggar, if the public good
requrres It.'
"Of the fifty-six signers, five were captured by the British and
tortured before they died. Twelve had their homes sacked and
looted, occupied by the British or burned. Two lost their sons in
the war. One had two sons captured. Nine of the fifty-six died in
the war, from its hardships or from its more merciful bullets.
"It is impo~tant to remember this about them- they were
men of means, rich men, most of them- prosperous men, wealthy
landowners, substantially secure in their prosperity.
"But they considered liberty- and they learned that liberty
is so much more important than security that they pledged their
lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor.
"They fulfilled their pledge.
"They paid the price.
"And freedom was born in America!"
How essential it is for Americans today to understand what
it cost our forebears to win independence in order to appreciate
fully our own responsibility for maintaining it.
President Kennedy said, "A nation which has forgotten the
quality of courage which its folUiders brought to public life is
not likely to insist upon or reward that quality in its chosen :
leaders today-in fact, we have forgotten."
The Harmon Cox plantation was, of course, designated for
destruction. Nearly every living thing was taken away, and all
the barns and outbuildings, the tannery and blacksmith shop
56
were burned down. Only the house remained- for some unac-
countable reason. Cornwallis, with his fast-moving army, swept
past the plantation on two occasions, once on his way to Char-
lotte- to "the Mecklenburg hornets' nest,"- and again as he
left there on! his way to Charleston, both times missing it by a
few miles, although his foragers in both instances raided the
place. He rnay not have been apprised that Harmon Cox was
head of the procurement department of Washington's mmy or that
his plantation was in Randolph ColUity. But Ashe's History of
North Carolina states: "In Mecklenburg County Cornwallis was
I so harassed by several small units of our army that he hastened
i out of that area on his way to Charleston." He was probably
I
too concerned about his safety to give much thought to smaller
r matters ... but how I wish I knew why the raiders who burned
the other buildings failed to burn down the house! Could it be
because there was a fighting Irish woman in it? Could it be that,
on second thought, she turned on the "reverse-Irish," invited the
soldiers in and conquered them with kindness by filling their
bellies with Irish stew and dumplings?
How foreign to Harmon's thoughts it must have been, when
he and his fighting Irish mother hassled with William Penn, try-
! ing to get him to resist the marauding Indians, that one day,
from the colony of North Carolina, he would be summoned to
head the procurement department of Washington's army under
his Uncle John Cox from Trenton, in a war for independence
with Great Britain!
Or that another Quaker kinsman, General Christopher Cox,
would be Surgeon General of the Union Army in the war to save
the lUiion!
Or that another fighting Quaker kinsman, General Jacob Dol-
son Cox, would be commanding an army of volunteers for four
years dw-ing the Civil War!
Ii Or that his own great-great-grandson, Yancey Cox, would some
day be presiding over a family of fourteen arolUid !he _broad
hearthstone and fireplace he himself was soon to build m the
Carolina colony!
I Or that still another Quaker kinsman, not many years ago,
Governor James M. Cox of Ohio, ahnost became President of
I' the United States!
I Or that I, his great-great-great-grandson, would now, over two
hundred years later, be telling the story!
I 57
I
I
 Now we all know there is not a single drop of blood in our
veins today from our forebears of two hundred years ago, though
every time I cut my finger I swan I think I see a little "blue"!
And when I come across a new story about my ancestors, it sure
makes me want to walk fast. The result has had a beneficent
influence on my behavior. Just so, in a broader sense, the his-
tory books telling the stories of American patriots, of the Pulas-
kis, the La Fayettes and the Von Steubens, so affect .all our
civic and patriotic responses that we spontaneously snap to atten-
tion at the first sight of the flag, with a feeling of kinship with
all who have helped pay the price of freedom- not with the
notables only but with the tmsung heroes whose names never
made the front page.
Our forebears, yours and mine, helped win the War for Iu-
dependence, with no thought of what it might cost them of life,
limb or property. No united effort in the history of mankind has
had such significance for the human race, in the matter of gov-
ernment, as the American Revolution and tl1e document of the
Declaration of Independence. For the first time in history, the
individual citizen emerged finally to the top. He had risen from
his knees and at last stood upright on his own feet, having at
long last gained his "say" on how he was henceforth to be
governed.
No wonder they wrote a Constitution and Bill of Rights which
begins, "We the people . . ." guaranteeing "Life, Liberty, and
the Pursuit of Happiness"- not just for the privileged few, but
for every American! And not only that, but they provided in
America illlder this same Constitution a permanent haven of
refuge for the incessant stream of inmligrauts and refugees from
every contry in the world, coming then and still coming, to this
very day, who on arrival may henceforth enjoy this same birth-
right of freedom for themselves, for their children and for their
children's children.
A TRAGIC ROMANCE
When I was a boy Grandmother told us stories of Colonial
times- stories so rugged and brutal that we often wondered if
58
they could be tme. But she was not the kind to fabricate or base
anything on the inmgination. She hated fiction; she always dealt
with facts and facts alone, and clainted that "fiction was always
the secret enemy of truth." Most of her stories centered round
the period of the Revol)ltionary War. But one, which we all
thought was the best, was set at a later date, recent enough so
that we were' able to talk with a few older persons who knew
the principals and could not only verify the story but add some
details which !fascinated JlS even more.
It was the : story of a neighboring girl in the year 1800 who
was murdered by her lover; and the site of the tragedy was not
far from our plantation over on Deep River.
Naomi Wise was an orphan girl who lived in the home of
grandmother's uncle near Buffalo Ford on J?eep Riv:r She was
a beautifnl girl and was liked by everyone m the ne1ghborho?d.
When she was eighteen, she was being courted by a dashing
young blade from across the river by the name of Jonat~1an
Lewis. They often rode together on horseback through the neigh-
borhood as was the custom in those days; and after a few months,
he won her heart and hand, and a date was set for their wedding.
In the meantime, it was reported that he had a chance.,to ~arry
a girl with a dowry, and for a while some of Naomi s fnends
were concerned. .
One night, after a big rainstorm, he ca~e by on his horse and
I asked her to ride with hint across the nver, on the pretext of
talking with the preacher about the :vedding ceremony, which
I was supposed to take place the followmg week. She got on be-
hind him, which also was customary in those ?ays,. and as they
forded the river he pushed her off the horse n;t mid-stream. .
The Cox family she lived with became worned ~hen Naomi
I failed to retum home by midnight; and at 1 o'clock m the mor-
I ning Grandmother's uncle saddled a horse and rode over to the
' pre;cher's house. The preacher hadn't seen them. Then h; rode
I
i'!
on to the Lewis farm. The boy's father claimed he hadn t seen
his son since about sillldown, when he had left on ~ horse.
I' In the meantime, the preacher also became worr1ed, and rode
i up to the neighbor's house, where the young couple had of~en
visited. He happened to know that the mother th~re was makmg
I the wedding dress for Naomi. It was now gettmg on toward
morning; and on second thought, before ~sturbing them at. that
I hour, he decided to ride on over to the g1rl's home to see 1f by
59
i
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L
 chance she had returned home. When he learned she had not
~een heard from, he went back and roused the family which
lived on the bluff by the ford of the river. When he told them
that Naomi had not been heard from since she had left home
with young Lewis in the early evening, the family then excitedly
related how they thought they had heard a woman screaming
down by the ford of the river soon after dark- "three distinct
screams, and then all was quiet."
By daylight the whole neighborhood was in turmoil, and people
began to congregate at the country store. Every family in the
whole community had been contacted, but there was no definite
clue yet to what had happened. About 8 o'clock a farmer came
gallopin~ up on a .horse and report~d that he had seen the body
of the gtrl ~n the nver about two rmles downstream. No question
now- LeWIS was suspected! Quickly, the neighbors divided into
two groups- one to recover the body, and the other to get their
hands on young Lewis. Every road leading out of the county
was covered, and the sheriffs of the surrounding counties were
notified.
When they took Naomi's body from the water, it was dis-
covered that she was soon to give birth to a child. This news
spread over the neighborhood with sickening sorrow. Every effort
was now made to apprehend Lewis. There could now be little
doubt that he had drowned the girl as they crossed the swollen
stream, and that it actually had been Naomi's screams that the
family by the ford had hemd in the early evening.
The funeral was the saddest affair the countryside had ever
witnessed. She had endeared herself to the people of the com-
munity, so everyone keenly felt her Joss. Soon after the funeral,
Braxton Craven- also an orphan- the principal of the school,
a young educator held in high esteem, set about writing a story
of the tragedy. Efforts to apprehend Lewis, month after month,
never diminished; neither did it seem that the sorrow of the com-
munity diminished. Rumors of his whereabouts persisted, and
as new angles to the investigation developed, Braxton Craven
continued his story, writing and rewriting it, until he had de-
veloped what has been called "the first novel written in North
Carolina." The novel soon became very popular, and was sold
extensively all over the counhy.
About a year later, a prominent woman of Randolph County
wrote a ballad about the Naomi tragedy. It took like wildfire,
60
and for a time was one of the most popular _ballads in the United
States.
The ballad though written soon after the tragedy didn't make
its impact on the public for nearly two years later; and except
for the shock< of the episode in our community the story by now
had lost sonie of its public appeal. But when the ballad came
out and was being sung far and wide, public interest began to be
aroused not only in simple sympathy, but a determination on the
part of the Jaw was evidenced throughout North Carolina, and
in many other states. It was learned that young Lewis had relatives
in Indiana and Ohio and they were constantly watched for many
months. On three occasions arrests were made, but further in-
vestigation proved t11em to be false. All such reports, however,
kept the story fresh in the mind of the public. And throughout
these many months when young Lewis evaded the clutches of
the Jaw our countryside seethed with deep sympathy, incessant
consternation, and a relentless determination to bring the young
culprit to justice.
Probably no where in the annals of law had a novel and a
ballad ever been so effective, not only in publicising the story of
the Q'agedy but in keeping the story constantly in the public mind.
I When the ballad became so popular about the third year after
the novel appeared it seemed to set off a second wave of demand
I for the novel, and together they went hand in hand lc~eping the
public at a high pitch of anxiety to see young LeWis brought
to justice.
It was not uncommon for many in the audience listening to
the ballad to weep openly, for the ballad surely was a tearjerker.
One night around a campfire in Ohio the ballad was being sung
by a minstrel, and a certain young man seemed to be unusually
affected and unable to completely overcome his agitation when
the entertainment was over. Before the crowd dispersed an ob-
server pointed out the young mail to a detective, and snre enough
he was the culprit. Quickly he was handcuffed and hustled off
without much Joss of time to North Carolina to the scene of
the crime for trial.
The news of bis capture spread far and wide, again revitalizin.g
the demand for the ballad and the novel. The mystery of his
escaping the sheriffs of four coun~es as. he l~ft our cou~tryside,
t11e awfulness of the crime of discardmg his orphan-girl-lover
seven months with child, by pushing her off his. horse in the river
61
~idstr~am and finally after years of effort by the law to apprehend
~1m, h1s bemg finally brought to justice largely by the incessant
mfluence of the ballad and the novel preying on his conscience
until_ it eventually disclosed his identity, bringing the long heart-
rendmg story to a final ending, make it a true down to earth love-
story which seems to never die.
The story of Naomi Wise is still told in North Carolina after
one. hu~dred. and fifty years, and it still awes the minds of youth,
as It did mme when I was groWing np. Braxton Craven, the
author of the novel, became president of Trinity College- which
later became Duke University, where the novel and the ballad
can now be seen. About 110 years ago, a large cotton mill was
built at Frauklin~ville, at the site of the tragedy on Deep River,
and was named m honor of the orphan girl; and it is still called
the Naomi Cotton Mills. Up on a bluff above the mill in a beau-
tiful grove of trees, is the well-kept grave of the llttle orphan
girl, Naomi Wise.
Ever since the tragedy, it is said that orphans from everywhere
have never ceased to bring flowers to her grave. So far as anyone.
knows, there has never been any sponsoring organization to
promote the idea. Apparently, the custom has been spontaneous.
They say that Braxton Craven made one trip every year while
he was president of Trinity College, bringing wild flowers to lay
on her grave. And tmtil this day, there is a never-ending stream
of orphans, mostly coming alone, to pay their respects to the
little orphan girl, Naomi Wise, as the mysterious tradition lives
on and on.
OUR COAT OF ARMS-THE CREST
A lot of people talk about their coat of arms or how their
ancestors landed on Plymouth Rock, then relax, just as if that
fixed it. And in most such cases, it did- for some of those people
have done nothing to justify either the boat fare over or the
artist's fee for designing the crest. A wise man has said: "Only
perseverance keeps honor bright." The Mayflower legend doesn't
qualify anyone to be a gentleman, nor does a coat of arms
guarantee success. Background may be fine if it's a backdrop
for present achievement; but foreground is where the battle is
62
to be fought- where you aud I must win or lose in the battle
of life. And after all the burnished armor of our noble sires
has been put on display, the breach into which our lot is cast
demands personal and individualistic valour. What we are worth
and how wei act today is the acid test of our real kinship to the
heroes of th~ past.
On the shield of our coat of arms is the motto: "SEMPER
VIGILANS"-ALWAYS ALERT! When you stop to thiuk
about it the word "alert" means an awful lot; in fact, it just
about c~vers the waterfront. It is why the early bird gets the
worm. it's .the .touchstone of success, the cue for getting in on
the ~ound floor or for moving on stage at ~he right instant ~n
the great drama of life. All the greats of htstory have had It.
Washington had it in such great abundance that he knew when to
Jose a battle, when to retreat, when to attack and how to win
the war. Certainly, in this space age there is no word of greater
importance than the word "A-L-E-R-T." It's the difference _be-
tween catching on or missing; between li~e or ~eath ~~ the hig~
way; between success . or failure in busmess, .. m politics ,~~d m
the selection of your hfe parmer. I am glad A-L-E-R-T _Is on
our shield and I have tried faithfully to take full cognizance
of its flasl~ng yellow light at dangerous human intersections on
the great highway of life. .
Our family does have a coat of ~rms and. a Jon~ !me of honor-
able ancestors. But it is hollow pnde to thmk this sets us apart
I or puts us on the side of the great. AI~ it does is ~o heap .on us
greater responsibility. We who are alive today ~1d not~mg to
I merit the coat of arms or help our ancestors achieve their hon-
orable stations in life. We simply arrived, in due course, ?elp-
less human statistics, totally dependent, at first, and practically
I
I so for several years to come.
Eventualiy, though, Nature gives each one of us a chance
as we grow up, regardless of our ancestors, ?ur race or our color,
to take our bearings, set our sail and stnke out on our own.
Failure is not forced upon us-neither is success. Wr; are free
moral agents. "It's the set of the sail and not ,~e ?ale that deter-
mines which way we go." The "smart Ale~ thinks. the .";?rid
owes him a living and proceeds with the set of his . sail . to
eventual ruin on the treacherous reefs of a glamorous shorelm~.
On the contrary, those who feel indebted to their parent~, their
"family," their forebears and all those who have made their con-
63
 t~ibution to _the enrichment of human life from the beginning of
lime, prepanng a better way for us to travel will acknowledge
a great deb~ _of gratitude to those who have g~ne before and, in
fmther hu~Ih~y, bow in reverence to Almighty God for the very
breath of life Itself.
~ith this . orie1_1tati?n,. it is to be hoped that every one ma
denve sufficient mspiratwn from his own forebears to achi y
a ch~racter which in later ~years may justify his being hono;;~
by Ius own progeny.
Now I'm glad my coat of arms had a ROOSTER on it! When
I was a boy we had a lot of fun around the "cockpit." It's been
outlawed now, but we country boys never thought a good rooster
fight was any ll_lajor sin. I remember a pure-blood Indian Game
rooster we had m those days- which several other neighbor boys
remembered to_o, with regret, for he won nearly every fight we
arranged f?r him, and the "stakes" were seldom anything much
~~cept ~ kite or _a pocketknife! He had a great many other quai-
IIIe~ be~Ides fightmg; he was good to his hens, seldom ate anything
whii~ his hens were eating, and he protected his barnyard against
any mtruder. He wa~ always alert. Nothing caught him by sur-
pn~e. He was aggressive. Once I saw him flog a bull in the face,
which made the bull change his course. He stood up to anything
that invaded his domain. He was master of his barnyard!
The early American pio~eers were like that. They stood up to
whatever they had to face With courage. They pioneered the wilder-
I thorn in my flesh; it is causing a hurt in my soul which seems
n~ss to erect th_ei~ homestea~s, blazed the first wagon roads,
!dndled the paii"I?tic fires agamst tyranny, finally winning their
mdepe~den:": agamst t~e strongest nation on earth. They were
men. with VISI_on, men With a cause; and during their long struggle
startmg up life on a new continent, they developed sinews of
character as tough as iron. Their ranks contained men like Patrick
Henry, Nathan Hale and the nameless soldiers with Washington
at Valley _Forge, ragged, half starved and without shoes in the
dead of wmter. Yet even from this "unpromising situation " this
ve~y same army of patriots started out in the spring on ; cam-
paign of successful victories, culminating in the surrender of
Lord Cornwallis.
64
l 65
l.
OUR SLAVES SET FREE TWENTY-SEVEN
YEARS EARLY
t When my ~randfather Harmon- the great-grandson of the first
Harmon- was twenty-one, he married "the belle of Deep River
Valley." Her name was Eunice Cox, and she was a descendant
of one of the cousins of the first Harmon who came down with
Harmon's wagon train from Philadelphia in 1751. Actually, she
was a fifth cousin.
i . Along with the rest of her dowry, she brought with her seven
i
slaves when she came to live with Harmon. She was raised a
Methodist, and had never had any qualms about owning slaves.
Harmon had been brought up a Quaker, and, of course, he came
to hate slavery as much as war. Evidently, they had not talked
about slavery before they were married, for he was much disturbed
when the slaves arrived on his plantation. Not a word was said
about the matter for about a month, but by then he was con-
vinced that he could never be content to allow slavery to become
a tradition on the Cox plantation. Finally, one day he selected
an opportune moment to discuss the matter with Eunice. He said:
"Eunice, thy love and thy companionship grows sweeter to me
each day, but I am concerned about one thing which. is like a
not to improve, but is actually growing worse, and I am ~on
strained to tell thee. I hope thee will understand my feelmgs
and say a prayer before thee answers me. . . . It would make
me feel even more proud of thee as my life companion if thee
would free the slaves, and come to feel as I do that we should
give them some land for their very own, help them build a house
on it, and enjoy the same kind of freedom ~hat we enjoy." .
And greatly to his surprise, she agreed, Without the least hesi-
tation.
Without any hesitation or delay, Eunice called her slaves to-
gether; and also without any ceremony, she said to them:
"Harmon and I have decided to give you your freedom. You
are now no longer slaves, but are just as free as ~nybody. We
are now going to give you some land, help you buii~ your ~;'n
house rrive you some animals and accept you as neighbors.
At 'fi;st they acted dazed, unable to say anything. They were
bewildered, even scared, and for a while they had difficulty in
 deciding even the smallest matters and appeared fearful for the
future. Soon their little homes were built aud a sampling of fowls
and livestock provided; and for the first time in their lives "they
had the thrill of using their own things as they wished, without
having to ask permission from anybody."
The effect of all this made even a greater impression on Eunice.
To see the surge of new life and a greater zest for living come
over her slaves was recompense enough, but she was amazed
and surprised that their loyalty to her had doubled. They stood
ready at any hour of the day or night to be of a help to Eunice,
and appeared to have difficulty in getting used to receiving pay
for their services. Harmon, of course, took delight in helping
each new family get started up in their new homes.
And now, one hundred and twenty-five years later, the descen-
dants of those same slaves still live on the forty-acre tract by our
plantation, generation after generation, as if to carry ou the tradi-
tion of loyalty.
All through the years, we gave them "work" on the plantation;
they never had to wonder if they could have a job; even through
the panic of 1893, they didn't suffer. We helped the oldest boy
of one family through school so that he could become a minister
of some prominence. The girls, working with Mother in the house,
learned enough so that they soon began to hire out to families in
the towns able to have such help, where they made good wages,
eventually establishing homes of their own and raising families
which had an elevating influence among others in Negro com-
rnllllities.
As we all grew up, these Negro girls of the second generation
of the slaves sort of adopted each one of us as their "baby";
and thereafter, they took great pride in following throngh with
their own individualistic ideas of "grooming'' ns to become what
we each chose to be when we grew up. My "Mammy" was "Marth-
jane," and she was always on hand at every commencement when
I "said my speech"; and regardless of what anyone else did, she
presented me with a bouquet of flowers. Generally, they were
"wild flowers," but the display of her loyalty to me in this way
always "got a big hand" from the audience and may have even
helped me get a medal or two. And when I returned after four
years at college, she met me at the railway station. When she
saw me fiTSt, she yelled, "De Lawd bless my soul- heah come
mah baby!" And she grabbed me and hugged me all over the
66
station platform. Well, what could I do? She weighed over two
hundred and fifty pollllds!
Harmon and Eunice donated land aud helped the Negroes erect
a little church in their community. It was called "Little Piney
Ridge," and for more than fifty years it was the center of social
and religious life of their commllllity. They also donated ten
acres of land on our plantation and helped build a Quaker church
called "The Panther Creek Quaker Meeting House." Since then
it has been rebuilt three times, and is now a beautiful modern
edifice. Th~ little graveyard. started by the church has served the
community for more than one hundred years, and is the resting
place of many prominent early pioneers of the county. Five of
the "boys Yancey brought back from the war" are resting there.
Some of the headmarkers made of native stone have nearly be-
come illegible, but the dogwood surrounding the graveyard, with
their thousands of white blossoms, seem to lean far over the
high fence, as if in eternal respect for those resting there.
EUNICE LOSES HARMON
The early life of Eunice and Harmon on the plantation was
happy and prosperous. Harmon had developed the stock business
to great proportions. His father Abel before him had also en-
larged the business, and by now practically all kinds of blooded
fowls and animals could be had at the big Cox plantation. Like
his forebears, Harmon had followed the surveying business; and
at least half of his time was taken up with setting the lines of
new settlers constantly moving in to the community. He also
acted as an "adjudicator," or "Justice of the Peace," as he was
called. A great many smaller difficulties were settled in the early
days by "trials before Justice of the Peace," without resort to
county courts.
The babies came fast- six girls, and then a boy- a ten-
pound baby boy-whom they named Yancey Harmon. When
he arrived, the neighbors for miles arolllld celeb~ated !he eveJ?-t
of the arrival of a male heir to the Cox plantation with a big
barbecne. It was said that more than two hw1dred friends and
neighbors came for an all-day barbecue affair when the baby
67
was one month old. But suddenly Harmon lay sick with typhoid
fever and within two more weeks he died, leaving Eunice with
seve~ little children under eleven years of age, and with a big
stock plantation in the middle of harvest.
She was too proud to call on her folks over on Deep River,
so she took over full control of the operations on the farm; and
with the help of the Negroes living nearby, she buried her sor-
rows by trying to do a man's job. She had grown up on a stock
farm, and handling stock was not entirely foreign to her back-
ground. Her native ingenuity served her well. She often remarked
as she told us the story:
"I was as strong as an ox in those days, and the reputation of
the Cox plantation had to be maintained. There was no way out
but to jump at the job- and do it!" . nothing ever set us back on our haunches like that! It struck
She never ceased to praise tl1e Negro help, and often satd,
"Without them I could never have carried it on till Yancey took
over."
This was an era before scarcely any mechanical conveniences
had appeared for use in Randolph County. Not even the earliest
makeshift of a kitchen range was available. All cooking was done
on the hearth in a skillet or in pots hanging from a bar in the
chimney. Wheat was sowed by hand on freshly plowed ground
and brushed in by dragging the top of a bushy tree over the land
with horses. Corn was also planted by hand. Wheat was har-
vested with scythe and cradle, and a scythe was used in the
meadows. Shoes were made by a cobbler with hatnmer and awl
on a shoe last. All clothing was made from wool or flax, carded,
spun and woven on a loom. Lighting was entirely by candles
made of mutton tallow. Altogether it was a dark era in more
ways than one.
Eunice struggled against these odds for several years as Yancey
was growing up, and her only atnbition was eventually to "turn
over the plantation, with everything going full blast," as she used
to say, to her cherished son Yancey.
THE BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER
Grandmother Eunice was a great storyteller. She could tell
Indian stories, fact or legend, with such detail that there was little
left to our imagination. Her stories of the Revolutionary War
68
and of the fate of Naomi Wise, drowned in Deep River by her
lover, used to keep us up half the night. But of all the stories
she told us as we were growing up, none were so thrilling and
realistic as , the bombardment of Fort Sumter and its aftermath.
She would lget so excited that she would not only use her arms,
gesticulating, but would sometimes stand up and finish some
phase of the story in the pose of a pugilist.
When the Japanese str11ck Pearl Harbor, the whole world knew
about it within a few minutes but when Fort Sumter was bom-
barded it tdok the news a who!~ month to reach Randolph County.
She said: '
"Even though the story was a month old when was heard it,
us like a clap of thunder! About four o'clock in the afternoon,
a uniformed officer rode through our neighborhood at a gallop,
his horse in a lather, rushing up to every farmhouse door, and
yelling at the top of his voice: 'WAR, WAR! THE COUNTRY
IS AT WAR; FORT SUMTER HAS BEEN BOMBARDED!
ALL ABLEBODIED MEN BETWEEN EIGHTEEN AND
THIRTY-FIVE REPORT IN THREE DAYS FOR MILITARY
DUTY.' And away he went on to the next house. I tell you it
left our neighborhood milling aro~d." . .
She used in her normal conversalion many expresswns smtable
in handling stock. And then she went on:
"Within a week our finest neighbor men were rounded up and
herded into fighti~g units, tearing them away from their families
like cattle for the slaughter. . .
"All this occurred so suddenly in our commumty that soldiers
were being rounded up before anybody knew what the war was
about. The 'Issues of War' had never been discussed. It ~as some
months before the 'sayings' developed: 'Preserve the Umon, and
pickle the slaves; or preserve the slaves, and pi~kle the U~ion.'
And to these simple folks of a peaceful countryside, such cliches
about the war meant next to nothing."
Then with a faraway look she continued:
"How little I understood what war would be like to me, since
my only boy was not yet thirteen! But within a week, I woke up
with a start. A bunch of soldiers swooped down on m~ barn
and without so much as saying 'by your leave,' they lied up
twe~ty of my finest horses and led them up th~ lane. And on
top of that, within an hour, another gang of soldiers rounded up
69
fifty head of steers and drove them off to camp, against my frantic
protest, just as if I was only a child talking."
By now she was actually trembling, she was so mad. Then with
a deep breath, and with a show of relief, she proudly said:
"I tell you it didn't take me very long to figure out how to put
a stop to that sort of stock-rustling. I called little Yancey, put him
on a horse and told him to ride like mad to every Negro family
in our circle and tell them to come here tonight by dusk, every
one of them, and without fail, and within two hours he was back
with their promise they'd be here.
"By dusk they came, about one hundred of them, thirteen fam-
ilies in all, excited, and wondering what in the world had hap-
pened; and when they had all bunched around me, I said, 'I've
lost twenty horses and fifty steers all in a day, and by tomorrow
night the army may take everything I've got. Now I've got a
plan figured out, and if you will all help me with it we can save
the plantation from ruin. I want each family of you to take home
with you tonight a portion of my livestock and fowls and hide
them out the best way you know; and take feed and grain to feed
them, till the war is over; and when the war ends, you may keep
one-half of every thing you have saved, for your very own.'
"Well, Sir, they jumped at it like a duck on a June bug, and
by daybreak there wasn't much left for the soldiers.
"I tell you there was no sleeping that night. The Negro fam-
ilies shuttled back and forth, the men handling the stock, the"
women catching the fowls, and the children carrying chickens
and turkeys in their arms. Grain was hauled and parceled out,
and the smokehouse meat was stashed in strange places; and,
finally, the tail end of the herd was driven to the back pastures
to begin starving, so they would soon 'look too poar' to even be
wanted by the foragers.
''I needed plow horses on the farm, so I drove a nail high up
in the front hoof of four of my best workhorses, which made them
limp so bad the foragers passed them up; and about every forty-
five days, I added another nail, as the hooves grew out, to keep
them lame.
"Now Yancey and I picked out a few of our very choicest
stock, seven Percheron brood mares and. five Jersey cows, to
see if we could hide them so good we'd be sure to have them
when the war was over. Like a flash, I got a bright idea, and
70
Yancey agreed with me; and before daybreak, we had them
right where we wanted them."
Let me add right here my own description of the hideout. Just
below our spring there has always been one of the doggondest
t~ickets you just ever saw! The area is about as big as a large
City block. :It is solid full of every known briar, vine, thorn and
thistle in the book. A rabbit can penetrate it, but dogs back away.
I've seen rabbits barely succeed in reaching the thicket with the
hounds maybe only twenty feet behind. In fact, I used to sit on
a stump nearby with my little .410 shotgun; and as the hounds
chased the rabbits toward their "refuge," I occasionally picked
the cottontail off a few feet before he hit the thicket. In the
middle of this thicket there has always been a clearing about
forty yards in diameter, where the old tannery and brick kiln
used to be when the original Harmon made the oversized brick
for the big chimney more than one hundred years before. The
burnt clay and tannic acid made that spot as barren as a desert.
The only way this open space could be reached was by wading
up the creek channel to where the spring branch came in, then
up the spring branch about fifty yards, and then squeezing through
a tight little pathway out to the open area.
This is, exactly how Eunice and Yancey hid their super-super
prize stock. The channels of the creek as well as the spring
branch were both covered over with a mass of overhanging alder
bmsh and vines, and by leading the animals up the channels,
not a track showing was left behind.
Then she added:
"And even Old Sam, the Negro man who had been with me ever
since Yancey came, was so thrilled with the plan he asked for
the privilege of feeding these animals himself till the war was
over, carrying their feed np the water channels every night. And
the trick worked, too; and when the war was over, we fetched
out four extra Percheron colts and three Jersey calves, and I
paid Old Sam an exha fifty dollars, in silver."
Then she switched her story back from stock to people:
"By the end of the third year of war, the regular recruiter in
our neighborhood was replaced by a brute of a man, not fitten to
handle animals. All suddenly, he hunted out the 'rejects,' the old
men and seventeen-year-aids, and sent them up and off to fight-
ing units. Some of the old men fell out of march as they were
71
forced on the double. He gave every indication that he was sup-
plying the army and getting paid for it as if by the head. He
hated Quakers, aud demanded that all Quaker men up to the
age of seventy-five report to his headquarters every Monday mor-
ning for uo reason at all except to ridicule them publicly before
sending them back home. After three trips, one old Quaker re-
fused to go again. This made the new recruiter so mad he went
after the old Quaker with his horse and a rope. He dragged the
old man about fifty yards; and when the rope broke, he ran
his horse over him five times. Finally, three neighbor women
rushed to his side, screaming, and probably saved the old Quaker's
life.
"The very next day, the recruiter discovered two young men
who had slipped home from the war to see their recent brides.
He wore a big gun and knife on his belt, and a rope hung from
yelling to neighbors as he passed that they were Quakers hiding
out from the war. About three miles down the road, he dragged
them with his horse toward Buffalo Ford on Deep River, where
the two young men were blindfolded, shot in the back and left
dying in the middle of the road.
"Now it was learned later that these two young men had once
before slipped home for two days and had voluntarily gone back
to their units to fight. Also, they were found not to be Quakers!
"I tell you this brute of a man was called every lowdown name
in the book; but mainly because he hunted down every possible
recruit, he got to be called 'The Hunter.' He was hated by every-
body, but detested and feared by the women of the community.
He wore a big gun and knife on his felt, and a rope hung from
under his coat. He was so brazen that he walked right in without
knocking and used the same language to men and women alike.
"I tell you, if I had been a man I believe I would have shot
him down like a beef.''
THE HUNTER CATCHES YANCEY
In the fall of the fourth year of the war, the South had been
drained to the dregs of both men and substance. The people as
well as the soldiers of the Confederate Army were in a state of
72
semi-starvation. The armies of both the South and the North had
swept back and forth, with their foraging parties cleaning the
countryside of everything alive, and most of the grain and vege-
table crops as well. The Southern armies, in desperation, ran-
sacked the 1 plantations for food as thoroughly as the invading
armies di(- though, of course, they refrained from burning and
destroying .barns and houses. Both armies had to "live off the
land" to keep going.
The mru\power shortage in the South left the Confederate Army
in desperate straits. By November of 1864, it was estimated that
the total number of deaths in the Confederate Army was over
200,000 out of a total enlistment of 1,300,000, and the number of
those invalided or maimed for life ran into the hundreds of thou-
sands. The Southern ports were bottled up, and the Confederate
forts along the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers had fallen. The
Southern cause was in a desperate plight.
In November an order went out to all recruiters to "fetch in
all old men and young boys able to tote a gun, without any
further ceremony." The word spread like wildfire and threw the
countryside into a state of panic.
On the nigi1t of December 3rd, 1864, the Hunter and his hench-
men descended on our neighborhood and rounded up twenty-one
boys, smrie of them barely fourteen years of age- and they caught
Yancey! Grandmother said:
"They struck our house just before daybreak, kicked our door
in, took Yancey out of bed, tied him with a r?pe, put him at the
head of the line, and drove the twenty-two neighbor boys up the
road with a bullwhip. Some of the boys cried as they looked back
for the last time. I tell you, we women of the neighborhood were
fit to be tied."
The Hunter delivered the boys to an officer at a little village
called Ashbore, where they were joined by recruits from other
places; and inmlediately they_ were hurr!ed off on a forc~d ~arch
of two hundred and fifty miles to a little fort near Wilmmgton
on the coast.
On the third day, several old men began dropping out, unable
to stay on their feet. The contingent was divided into two units,
those able to march itt a regular pace and those who were ex-
pected to run at least half the .time. Fortunately, the boys stayed
together and made it clear through, although three of them nearly
failed. The food on the trip was mostly salt pork and corn pone,
73
 and it was passed out to the recruits on foot and eaten as they
marched. A rest of fifteen minutes was allowed eve1y two hours
and only six hours for sleep at night. ' . By now the neighborhood boys were sticking with Yancey
Probably because of the lack of guards, on arrival at the fort
the recruits were jammed into an old warehouse, about three
~undred of them. The building's four windows were boarded up
tight, and there was only one door, which was then locked and
guarded by two soldiers. The building was so full of men that
they had difficulty getting the last fifty in. And within an hour
several men began to faint and fall to the floor for want of air:
Soon the situation became unbearable. Actual suffocation seemed
imminent. They pounded on the door and clamored for help but
the guards had their orders and gave no heed to the re~ruits
inside.
Yancey tried to get some of the older men to help him break
the door down, but not a single man wonld join him in the effort.
Everyone s~emed afraid for their very lives to resist the military,
but something had to be done, and done quickly, for by now
at least fifty were lying in a dead faint on the floor. Yancey him-
self now took charge and ordered everyone to help him drag
those who had collapsed back away from the door, so that he
could slam himself against it to try to break it down. This is
how he told the story:
"At a distance of fifteen feet, I ran against the door, but with
no results: Again I slammed against it with all my mioht-
nothing budged." Then he said: "I must have prayed fo~ the
first time in my life, for I felt a surge of strength come into my
~ody, which only God Almighty could have given me, and this
tune I ran clear through that door! Both guards junlped me as
I went through, and in the fight one of them stuck a bayonet
clear through my right thigh; but by now the recmits were pouring
out over us, and within three minutes the warehouse was empty.
"The guards turned in the alarm, and other soldiers rushed
to the scene. There was no effort made to escape, and the recruits
were soon rounded up and ordered to lie down for the rest of
the night on the hillside."
74
YANCEY AND THE BOYS ESCAPE
tighter t~an a football squad. The experience they had just gone
through mi the warehouse served to emphasize the apparent lack
of forethought the army had for new recruits. Only after the lives
of three hundred had been jeopardized did they Jearn that there
was no opening in the building for air. This thoughtlessness, and
the treatlnent of being rounded up like cattle, tied together, driven
up the road with a bullwhip and rushed two hundred and fifty
miles on the double, convinced them that they were not in the
hands. of friends. The idea of escape haunted their young minds.
While the recruits were being rounded up after rushing out of
the warehouse, and were being marched out on the hillside to
lie down for the rest of the night, Yancey maneuvered his bunch
of boys to the lqwer side. The soldiers built bonfires about every
hundred yards around the bivouac, and a sentinel here and there
with a gun on his shoulder walked back and forth. Yancey or-
dered his boys to lie in a circle with all their heads close together,
so that he could talk things over in a whisper; and if an oppor-
hmity to escape seemed advisable, he could give the word and
expect fast action.
Along .about 2 o'clock in the morning, the fires had died down,
and the sentinels acted drowsy and careless. It looked like a
choice between two hazardous situations- the elements and army
life, one about as friendly toward them as the other. And after
a few whispered words, they decided to choose the elements;
and, like a flash, they made their break. Again, like a football
squad, they charged down the hillside and into the brush. A few
shots were fired and a general alarm given, but no one got hit,
and they got away.
Now it is useless to say that they lost no time in covering as
much distance as possible before daybreak. They ran like coyotes
for about two hours, and fortunately were not detected. Just be-
fore daylight they took their bearings from the stars to be cer-
tain of directions, and then they bedded down with great caution
till nighttime. They immediately organized for sentinel duty-
two on watch, changing every two hours; and they quickly set
up certain absolute rules for their safety as they began their
long trek back home. Again they lay with their heads together
and agreed on certain fundamentals of procedure.
75
 The first rule, after a hard decision, was that no one person
must hinder the escape of the rest for any reason whatsoever.
This, of course, meant the greatest caution against a broken bone
or even a sprained ankle, getting separated from the rest or
getting captured. They all agreed that all humans must be evaded
so completely that none of them came into the view of any per-
son, civilian as well as military; that all roads must be totally
avoided; that they must stay far enough away from farmhouses
so the dogs would not bark, moving only at night and hiding
perfectly by day; and, in case of an attempted capture, to scatter
-reassembling only on the hoot-owl signal by Yancey.
Branding their minds with the "agreed rules," they soon felt
a special responsibility not only for their own personal safety
but for the safety of all. They were now a close-knit unit, bent
on just one thing-going home! Not much had been said about
how they would make it, nor when or if they might discover
anything to eat along. the way. Possibly it was a good thing these
thoughts had not yet plagued their young minds. They were so
thrilled over their escape, and so obsessed with the desire to go
home, that the possibilities of cold and hunger had not deterred
them from the venture. They were now up against the "elements"
good and proper- two hundred and fifty miles from home, and
the trip had to be made not only during the hours of darkness
but with the constant danger of capture by the military and
possible execution for "desertion" - a man-sized undertaking
being attempted by boys.
Fortunately, they were all farmboys; and in scrounging for
something to eat along the way, they knew what to look for
and where. But it was wartime- and in the fourth year of the
war, when not even an ear of corn or a single potato was thought-
lessly dropped or left in the field. On the second day out, with-
out anything at all to eat, tl1ey were getting terribly hungry, and
that night a thorough search of a cornfield was made, only to
find just two small ears. As they bedded down at dawn, the
two ears were shelled, and each one was given thirty-three grains
to chew on during the day. A pumpkin was discovered the next
night, and a few tmnips. Then, for three days, they had nothing
except a few "fox grapes" still hanging on a vine and some "haws"
still clinging to some little trees along a small stream. They were
approaching the area of "Haw River," where haw. trees are
very common. Haws are very delicious, and the .)ridians con-
76
sidered them a very valuable food. By now they were getting in
a bad way; but on the very next night, they found altogether
one hundred and twenty potatoes, five each; and these potatoes
carried them over the next week.
One night, as they were moving along a ridge, they were
detected by a band of cavalrymen. Suddenly, they heard horses'
hooves rapidly approaching, and it became evident that they
were about to be hemmed in by a circular movement. There were
about twenty horsemen in the group. When it was certain that
they hact' definitely been spotted, and their capture was the ob-
jective of the maneuver, the boys scrambled over a high rail
fence. They were fired on, the rails being splintered right in
amongst the boys, and yet no one got hit. They dropped down
over a steep bluff into a reed thicket. Within minutes, the thicket
was surrounded, bonfires were built at intervals all around it,
and the thicket was patrolled till daylight. But meantime, Yancey
found a little, narrow, deep-cut stream running through the reed
thicket. On out through a meadow under overlapping tall grass,
following Yancey, the boys all waded it single file, sometimes
knee deep and sometimes shoulder deep, parting the grass care-
fully so as not to make the least noise or visible movement.
Silently, they moved out and away from the circle of bonfires
and the anxious cavalrymen, who were expecting to capture
their p~ey at dawn. But by daybreak the boys were more than
two miles from there and on their way home.
The entire next week was tough. All of their potatoes were
gone, and for three days they hadn't found a single thing to
eat. They were cold, wet and almost starving. More than that,
the weather was rough, and the rain was gradually turning into
snow. About midnight they spotted a persinlmon tree- the first
one on the trip. It had persimmons on it; and with sentinels
posted, three of them went up the tree.
In the fall of the year, persimmons shrivel up like raisins
and hang on the tree sometimes till March. The tree was just
loaded. Two more boys climbed up; and behold, in the very
top there was an oposstun! What a thrill, at long last, to run
acr~ss some meat! Why, of course they ate it! And it was the
one feast they never forgot as long as they lived. They packed
their pockets with persimmons, and then put about a hundred
more in above their belts inside their shirts.
After completing this successful find, they soon came upon
77
an old haystack in the edge of a meadow. It was now snowing
hard, and they became worried about leaving tracks in the snow,
so they burrowed into the haystack aud slept there two days,
eating persimmons and chewing on their raw 'possum.
Yancey said, "It was difficult to parcel out twenty-two pieces
of raw 'possum; and some of the boys grumbled at their small
share, but not for long- for the longer they chewed on it,
the bigger it got!"
CROSSING DEEP RIVER-THE LAST
BIG HURDLE
Throughout their entire journey, they had often worried about
crossing Deep River, which ran diagonally across their route
home. At times, when the river was running low, it was possible
to make a crossing at one point near Haw River, the old Indian
crossing. But as they approached the river it was running full
tide; there had been a three-day winter storm, and the channel,
normally only a few hundred yards wide, was now a half-mile
across. They struck the river first near what is now called Worth-
ville. Yancey's uncle had built a dam across the river there, at
first for a grist mill; but later on he developed it into a sizable
operation for sawing out lumber and, after the war, into a cot-
ton mill.
Yancey pondered the thought of making contact with his
uncle for crossing the river, but finally decided it might be too
dangerous, since so many boys were involved in the plan. From
here on down the river, for several miles, there was quite a
drop in elevation; several more dams were being built for mill
sites. Until the war broke out, there had been great activity
along this fast-running channel. It was decided to follow the
river downstream, hoping there might be some improvised device
for crossing still in operation, even though all commercial ac-
tivity had ceased three years before. Anyway, down by Frank-
linsville, there was a covered bridge to think about.
A night and part of two days were used in scouting the area.
About two miles above the covered bridge, Yancey sighted an
old three-log raft lying on the opposite side of the river. It was
78
impossible to determine if it had lately been in use or if it could
even be detached from its location. It lay about four hundred
yards across a slow-moving pool of water. Two poles were visible
on top of the raft, which looked like improvised oars attached
to snags 'on the logs with either rope or grapevine. The thing
looked intriguing the more Yancey analyzed it. It struck him
that some ingenious person had devised a method of navigation
which had probably worked for crossing the river once, and
then wasl abandoned; and the longer he thought about it, the
more he wanted to see if he too could use it. The next thing to
figure out was how to cross the river to get to it.
Carefully hiding his boys at the edge of the water in a small,
dense reed thicket, he gave orders to standby while he endeavored
to cross the river over the covered bridge. He knew there was
a guard at either end of the bridge; and he would have to devise
a way to get past the guards. From a secluded spot, he watched
the nature of traffic crossing the bridge and the behavior of the
guards inspecting each vehicle passing by. Only three vehicles
crossed over during the whole afternoon; occasionally, a few
stray cattle sauntered across, to which the guards paid very little
attention; but they appeared very alert at the passing over of
any individual; and whatever was being transported was thor-
oughly inspected.
Darkness was beginning to settle down, and Yancey hoped
for a break in his luck. He moved up close to the road; and for
a while he entertained the thought that if an ideal drove of cattle
should move on to the bridge approach, he just might seize the
tail of the wildest-looking steer in the lot and hope to sail through
past both guards to the opposite side. Cattle will sometimes
stampede and do the craziest things. Then, too, Yancey knew
how to give a cow's tail a certain kind of a twist to send her
into a stampede, even if none of the others followed; and he
gambled the guards would at least have to be "sharpshooters"
to wing him as he passed them by. But the direction the cow
might choose was anybody's guess.
While he was thinking over this possibility, he spied an old
farmer coming in a wagon pulled by a yoke of oxen. This gave
him a bright new idea, and he could hardly wait for the wagon
to move past him in the darkness. Like a flash, he ducked in
behind, crawled under on his hands and knees, locked his arms
and legs around the coupling pole between the front and rear
79
axles, hanging like a monkey only a few inches from the ground.
The first guard double-checked the few things the farmer had
in the wagon; and after about a five minutes' delay, he allowed
the wagon to proceed. The bridge was about six hundred feet
long, and inside it was as dark as a stack of black cats. The
ox team was moving at such a slow pace that it would take
another ten minutes to reach the second guard, and Yancey's
arms and legs were by now beginning to give him some trouble.
He almost gambled on crawling on his hands and knees a ways
under the wagon, then catching on again and hanging to the
pole, but he decided to play it safe, sweat it out and hang on,
as he was, even if he had to do it with his teeth. He was worry-
ing now, fearing that the second guard might unduly prolong his
inspection or draw out the old farmer in conversation on any
news of the countryside. Luckily, the procedure was normal;
the ox team started up, and he hung on to the wagon pole until
he was well out of sight of the last guard. Neither of the guards,
nor the old farmer, ever knew they had allowed a boy to cross
the river.
Yancey soon ran the two miles up the river bank to the old
tluee-log raft. Without too much effort, he broke it loose from
its moorings, though it appeared it had been tied up there for
months. By superhuman effort, he managed to shove off into
the darkness; and with the long pole oars, though poorly at-
tached to the logs with vines, he navigated the raft across to
the opposite side of the river. In trying to make a landing, one
oar pole broke in half; and the raft, swinging around, end at a
time, went downstream a ways before Yancey could latch on
to some bushes and hold it against the bank till the boys could
get on.
Now, with one oar gone, you can imagine the difficulty Yancey
had in trying to steer the raft back across the river. He handled
the one oar himself and gave strict orders for the rest to lie at
a slight angle across the raft, hugging the outside log with their
left arms and rowing like galley slaves with their right arms.
Losing some three hundred yards downstream, when he brought
the raft. across in the first place, losing another hundred yards
getting anchored, and then about three hundred yards more be-
fore they really hit the main cmrent, was bad enough. But boy,
when the main current struck that raft full force, it not only
doubled its speed downstream. but got the raft going around
80
and around. Their efforts at propulsion had little effect in mov-
ing it closer to the opposite bank. The raft had made seven
complete t[/rns in what they estimated was the first mile down
toward the bridge; and they were still in mid-current. Things
didn't look 1good, to put it mildly. .
Suddenly; the front end of the raft gouged up on to a big
rock; and for a brief moment, the rear end of the raft quivered,
as if in a quandary, trying to decide which way to swing. Yancey
yelled, "Hang on tight when she swings around, or you may
get slung off." Around she went; and fortunately, the tail end
caught the main cmrent, which sent it down and around the rock
1
with such force that it not only broke loose from the rock but its
momentum swung the whole raft over into slower water. Then,
with all hands frantically rowing again, hope was renewed-
but only for a brief moment; for even though they were out of
the main current, they realized they were now in a secondary
current almost as swift.
By now their raft had started whirling around and around,
three full circles, rushing headlong downstream faster than a
person could run. Just as Yancey saw the covered bridge loom
up in the darkness ahead, not two hundred yards below, the raft
rammed into the top limbs of a big tree that had fallen full length
out into the river.
Yancey yelled, "Abandon the raft and grab a limb!"
As the raft crashed in among the limbs and swung around,
all twenty-two boys lunged into the tree top, grabbing any kind
of a limb. Then the whole top of the tree settled down into the
current, due to the pull of the raft and the extra weight of the
boys. Everyone hit the water! Seven of the group were swamped,
having to use the hand-over-hand method of climbing up their
limb for air. It was a grand scramble, getting up through the
limbs onto the trunk of the tree to the river bank. But they
made it- everyone made it! They had finally crossed Deep River
-at flood tide- the last big hurdle of the journey back home!
Just as they were starting up the river bank on a run, to circle
the first farmhouse, their raft hit the rapids at the bridge. As
it churned through, end over end, one of the logs must have shot
up high into the air and whopped the side of the covered bridge
with a noise that disturbed the whole countryside. Several dogs
in the vicinity barked and howled.
Yancey said, "That's what it got for not having a rudder!"
81
 It was so easy to run now; they hadn't felt so lightfooted since
they escaped the old gnardhouse two hundred and fifty miles
back. It was 4 o'clock in the morning, and they had about an
hom of darkness left. They made the most of it, penetratiug
deep into the virgiu woodlands between Deep River and Rich-
land Creek. On a ridge with a considerable view in all directions,
they bedded down for their last day together. There was some
talk as they settled down before they went to sleep about how
lucky it had been for them to hit that big rock in midstream,
which slung their raft over mto a slower current; and how this
current had shot over toward the opposite bank, gouging the earth
from tmder a big tree, causiug it to reach out and catch them;
and how fortunate they had been to have a skipper who knew
when to yell, "Abandon the raft and grab a limb!"
I suppose it's unnecessary to tell you that their clothing, when
they got horne, was in shreds- to put it mildly. Their shoes were
worn out. In some cases, they had tied up their feet with strips
of grrnny sacks. They had nearly frozen to death, and they had
nearly starved to death. They were ahnost captured on three
occasions- the closest calls you ever heard of. But they made it!
Of comse, they had fignred out what to do on reaching horne.
They knew they were walking right straight into the Hunter's
trap. A plan had been tlrroughly discussed, and all agreed on
what to do. The greatest secrecy was to be observed, for the
safety of all- their folks as well as themselves. Of all places
NOT to hide- the worst was home!
Another thing had been decided. They had solemnly sworn
among themselves to do away with the Hunter as soon as they
regained their strength.
About midnight, on February 11th, Yancey slipped horne,
stayed in the house only a few rniuutes, got into some fresh
clothes, went out agaiu into the dark and up to a "hideout,"
with plans all made for "contacts."
Now gettiug into the house and out again in ten minutes was
no easy chore. For some years he and his mother had had a
certain signal code which they had used between themselves, but
which no one else knew. The time had now come for this code
to be put to its supreme test, at the midnight hour, with no
previous arrangements made. Yancey was fearful that the bull-
dog would go nuts if he heard a strange noise at that time of
night and so spoil the secrecy of his entrance into the house.
82
Spies were ever watching the house, and a commotion would
surely be inviting trouble. Would his mother catch the code and
open up- or would he be walkirg into a trap? He hesitated;
and then he cautiously gave the "hoot-owl signal" very softly,
expecting tHat he might have to repeat it shortly. But sure enough,
Grandn10ther unbolted the back door, and in he carne!
In an instant, the bulldog was all over him, whining and lick-
ing him on the face. The two older girls flew out of bed, hugged
him and, without being told, each mshed to a window to watch
for spies. Not a siugle candle was lit, and everyone talked in a
whisper. The other little sisters wrestled him on the floor, vying
with the bulldog in their affections, while his mother quickly
shoved some fresh clothes to him and filled Iris pockets with
dried beef and biscuits. In two miuutes more, he was ready
to depart.
Whisperiug instrnctions to him, Grandmother said, "I will
pretend to be rnendiug the pasture fences on Tnesdays and Thurs-
days, and will drop food in a fence post-hole even with the big
blue gtun tree."
And as he went ont the door, she dropped a frock over his
shoulders, should a spy be watchiug the houses as he departed.
NEWS LEAKS OUT- "THE BOYS
ARE BACK HOME"
I suppose the boys did pretty well to keep their homecoming
quiet for .ten days, but in some way or other it was found out
they were horne- and then trouble really started. . .
The Hunter was fmious! He searched every horne m the netgh-
borhood- even the homes of those who didn't have boys- iu
the attics, under the honses, the barns and the haystacks. He
posted his henchmen at high points on our plantation wh~re
they could scan the fields. Grandmother was watched every rnm-
ute. The other homes were watched too, but Yancey was the
prize, and a double effort was made to catch him agaiu. The
henchmen would apparently disappear for a few days, then come
back again witl1 some new tricks. By their watchLng the house
all the time, they figmed they could starve him out, but he and
83
 Grandmother had a plan which deceived them. She worked
aronnd the pastnre fences, laying up rails about twice a week
carrying food nnder her skirts and releasing it at a stated place'
~s she appeared to be working. Later, at dusk, Yancey picked
1t up, and so was kept in provisions.
She overfed him at first, for at the beginning he could eat
only about an onnce or two. His stomach had shrunken so much
he ate at first like a child.
Yancey had four principal "hideouts." He used to show us
where they were sometimes when we were squirrel-hunting. None
of them was closer home than a mile. The one he liked best was
a cave in the bank of the creek cut out of sandstone, which he
reached by wading upstream about a hnndred feet, stepping upon
some boulders, then crawling in under some overhanging brush.
The cave couldn't be seen, and no tracks were visible. But he
could see out in every direction through the brush.
He said, "I always kept a few nice round stones in there-
sort of like little David used on Goliath-just in case!"
This cave was called "Camp Duck." Once he saw a wild duck
go swimming by- hence the name.
It got so that nearly every day a man would search the house
or barn, or otherwise meddle around as Grandmother and the girls
were doing their chores. One night, about midnight, the Hunter
crashed in without knocking, searched the house, looked under
the beds and tore up the cellar boards, used abusive language
and railed at her for defending a "worthless son, fifteen years
old and able to tote a gnn."
Grandmother wheeled on him in a rage, and said, "I freed my
slaves, of my own free will, twenty-seven years ago; and if my
son could get to the Union Army he would help fight to free
the rest of them- but he is not going to help fight to keep hu-
mans in bondage. Now get out of my house and stay out!"
And with that, she reached for t11e gnn over the mantle . . .
and would have used it, too!
Then, with great animation, she said, "The next evening I
heard an awful commotion toward the barn. One of the girls
rushed in and yelled, 'Quick, Ma, that man is trying to catch
Gertie!' (The colored girl.) I grabbed the gun, and ran out just
as Gertie and the man were ronnding the granary. The bulldog
was coming full force, and the other girls were screaming. The
man broke away and jumped over the fence as I fired, the bullet
84
splintering the top rail. The bulldog couldn't get over the fence,
and the man got away. I thought I hit hinl, but was not sure.
It took quite a while for things to quiet down, but we were
now convinced that henceforth one of the girls should always
stand guard 'ivith a gun as the others worked in the field or as
I did my fel)ce-mending." .
Similar incidents had been heard of in the community, but this
' was the most flagrant thing that had yet happened on our plan-
tation. It meant that things were getting to a desperate state
when gun-play might be expected at any time.
Before the boys reached home, they had set a date for a meet-
ing- fliteen days from the day they had reached home- at
which time tl1ey were to make their final plans for exterminating
the Hnnter. The news of the above incident reached Yancey fue
day before they met, and you can imagine he was really riled
up. Things were actually getting worse every day, and every
household in fue community was in a state of fear for their very
lives.
THE HUNTER MEETS IDS FATE
At last the night finally arrived when fue boys were to meet to
work out final plans to exterminate the Hunter. The place for
meeting was at a little spring- the actual headwaters of Panther
Creek- on the side of Purgatory Mountain, about three miles
from home. It was to be their first rennion, and everyone won-
dered if all of the twenty-two boys would be present. There was
much fear that someone by now might have been caught. But
at straight-up midnight, everyone appeared; and after hearing
the report of the recent incident on our plantation, they were
even more determined to finish the job they had already sworn
to do.
After swapping stories of how each one had fared in his hide-
out arrangements, they got down to business. First, three guns
were loaded, one at a time, with everyone watching the procedure
as Yancey followed the regular routine. The powder was poured
into the gun' barrel- a double charge- and then it was tamped
down with "wadding" with a ramrod; then, not one but four
bullets were poured in, and more wadding tamped down again;
85
 then the "persecussion cap" was set on the "powder tube" and:
the "hanuner" let down. Then the next gun, and the next, was.
loaded, with all eyes on the operation to make sure that no pos-
sible mistake was made.
Then the selection of the "Three Musketeers" came next. This.
involved quite a ceremony. A triple test was set up and discussed
before anyone was chosen. First, one going on this mission must
have had more than average experience with a gun. Second, he
must be willing to take his chance on not coming back. Third,
he must be completely convinced that he could do the job with
a clear conscience.
With this over, the selection of three was made; and even
after that, each one separately was asked the test questions tO"
make sure he thoroughly comprehended the significance of the
mission.
Then they all stood up, lifted their right hand and swore they
would never, so long as they lived, divulge the names of the
"three" who were about to carry out the plan. The three were
then given "rations" to last eight days. A new date was set tO"
meet again at the spring on the "eighth night at midnight." Then
they all departed.
The Hunter lived about twelve miles from home, near Deep
River, on a little stream. The three, with extreme caution, sta-
tioned themselves so that they could watch his movements for
a couple of days. They found that every morning at sun-up he
and his little seven-year-old daughter walked down to his fish
traps, crossing the little stream on a log. The little girl walked
ahead, on the log, holding his finger; but each tin1e, when she
got halfway across, she turned his finger loose and ran the rest
of the way ahead of him. The third morning when she did this,
two of them fired; the other one held his fire as planned and
watched in every direction. The two ran over, cut the big brass
buttons off the Hunter's coat, and then they disappeared by a
plan previously worked out, without being seen by any person.
On the eighth uight they all met again and heard the story.
They had carried out their "resolve to exterminate a 'varmint'
detested by every woman in the cmmty." Again, after con-
gratulating the three, they all swore never to divulge the names
of the executioners; and then everyone returned to his own
hideout.
It was probably lucky that the war came to an end within a
86
few weeks, for investigators poured into the county in numbers,
and serious reprisals might have ensued.
Now I'll bet ten dollars you are already wondering if we ever
got Yancey to tell, or nearly tell, if he were one of the three!
We tried it, all right, and hoped for a "wink" or a "wry smile''
Qr somefuing. But no, Sir! With a straight face, he always said,
"We all swore secrecy, and that's that!" And we tried several
others of the men too, but always with tile same results. I do
lmow, though, that Yancey kept one of the big brass buttons for
a long time 'in his top bureau drawer, and he had an old gun
he sure thought a lot of!
Through the years, this little group of "neighbor boys" stuck
mighty close together. Four of fuem married sisters of Yancey,
and they all remained loyal to Yancey as long as they lived,
forever telling stories of their "trip home from the war," as they
a~lled it, how they "chewed raw 'possum all day in a haystack,"
and a lot of other things that Yancey hadn't told, always winding
up their story with, "And Yancey fetched us back home!"
POST WAR POVERTY-AND THE COMEBACK
Let me state briefly, without elaboration, fuat when the war
ended the entire South was in a state of abject poverty; and in
addition to fuat, "It had been robbed of most of the tools re-
quired for recuperation." Then, instead of elaborating on the
subject further, to my own heartache let me mention it here only
as a backdrop against which heroes and heroines of that awful
period stand out in bold relief, honored privately to this day
i by our Southland. The majority of those fine souls have never
I been honored on the national pages of history. They went down
with the "Lost Cause," revered by their kin but scarcely heard
1
I of beyond tl1eir own communities. All too soon, the story of
their heroism in the struggle for what they thought was right
has been forgotten.
You and I can enrich the tradition which they have left us
by bringing to light the glory of their deeds. Just who would
expect a lean, lanky boy, scarcely sixteen, to "run tlrrough a door
to save three hundred raw recruits from suffocation"? Or a girl
87
i .. f
r
 of twel~e keep five smaller children alive, without parents, four
year~, till .the war ended? Many of these unsung heroes of that
her?Ic penod were your forebears and mine. Their courage and
their valor dev~loped a rar~ fibre in their character which they
~ave made available to us If we but seize it and appropriate it
m our day.
. Wl_Jen things hit bottom, the only way out is up. But always,
m ~p1te o~ the depths, Go?- has planted in the human breast hope
which spnngs eternal. It IS hard to imagine conditions darker or
blacker than they were after the war ended. It was said that in
Randolph County only five men in twenty came back from the
war at all, and t?at .only one in !'We?ty came back unimpaired.
Lack of. orgaruz.ation, commurucal!on and transportation forced
the returning soldiers to s!Jagg!e home as best they could; most
of them walked and begged for food along the way. It was not
uncommon for the sick and crippled to be taken in by families
along the way and cared for until they could proceed toward
home. The Quakers not only took the lead in this, but they
actually. searc~ed for returning soldiers who needed help, and
kept this up till the very last soldier reached home.
The older people after the war were despondent, and many
were resentful- even bitter. But youth will not long be down-
~ast. And as the soldiers returned, regardless of their condition,
It became a custom to have a celebration for each man. He found
a welcome awaiting him from his old neighbors and friends. Soon
gratitude superseded regret, and it became the habit of the
community to look for the silver lining, even in every situation.
And when everyone started counting their blessings, they soon
spontaneously began swarming to the churches, in gratitude to
God for life itself.
This religious fervor seemed to be spontaneous, and it took
~e form of concerned help for the families of the community
m the greatest need. Some families had lost their houses others
their barns; nearly every family had lost their livestock a~d their
fowls. Some had been forced to move in with their relatives or
even with strangers. And some families had lost all the me~ of
their family! These situations presented an ideal opportunity for
those who had something to help those who didn't have anything.
Gran(imother Eunice sort of l.ed the way in our community,
for she .came through the war, With the help of her Negro neigh-
bors, With an unexpected number of animals and fowls. As soon
88
as the war ended, she brought out her scrawny livestock, began
feeding them, and before long she had an exploding population
of fowls and animals. A colt comes in eleven months, a calf in
nine, pigs in three months and twenty days, and chickens hatch
in twenty-one days. It was her idea to present a needy family
with fowls or a cow, pigs or sheep, to help them get started
again. Others took it up, aud soon group effort developed into
what was then called "barn-raisings" and "house-warmings," and
so on. Often these meant that the entire neighborhood flocked
to a neighbor's place on a set day; the men-maybe forty-
would build him a barn; and the women would bring pots and
pans, bedding and dishes, or maybe quilted all day while the
men worked. And many families brought a chicken or a pig,
a turkey or some geese. All of them would fetch great quantities
of food, and some stayed over for a second day. Such affairs
shifted around until in the course of time the whole countryside
felt the mutual benefits of neighborliness.
Actually, the young people did more than they knew in lifting
the morale of the commtmity. Probably half the reason they helped
with these affairs was the fun they got out of it themselves. But
their pleasure was catching, and soon the older people got over
. being bitter, and the entire community became festive-conscious.
"Taffy-pullings" were popular in those days; and with huge
pots of boiling sorghum available, a crowd of one hundred was
as easy to entertain as a dozen. The "Old Square Dance," or
the "Virginia Reel," came into vogue; and boy, did it sweep
the countryside! The "fiddle" and the "dulcimore" helped out
beyond belief. And, generally, these affairs lasted till nearly
morning. Spelling bees also became very popular, and actually
became part of the public-school system after the school got
started up and going. A school of one community would chal-
lenge a school of another community to a "spelling bee"; and
this brought the folks of an outside coinmunity over into a new
area, acquaintances were enlarged, the boys walked home with
the girls, and soon a wedding was announced here and there.
Weddings in those days were great festive occasions. Re-
latives and friends of both families stopped everything to at-
tend. And a joyous aftermath was the "shivaree." The shivaree
was a surprise affair, generally reserved till the first night the
bride and groom moved into their own new house; and on
that night, sometime between midnight and dawn, a crowd of
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 their friends- fifty to one hundred- would descend on their
place with every known device for making noise, dishpans,
plowshares, horns, trnmpets, etc., marching round and round
their house until, generally, they were invited in for a "feed."
Now, after a few months of these typical festive occasions,
a much more dignified custom developed. It took the form of
honorin~ those of their community who had distingoished them-
selves e1ther on the home front or in war. Some of these affairs
were total surprise to the person being honored- rather like
the "This Is Your Life" program on television.
The two largest gatherings of this kind were those honoring
Y anc~y, for fetching his neighbor boys back home, and the one
honormg Nancy Lowdermilk, for keeping her five little brothers
and sisters from starving to death during four years of war,
all alone, though she was only twelve years of age.
. up into the apple trees to roost, to make it hard for the soldiers
NANCY, THE REAL GIRL YANCEY MARRIED
When the Civil War broke out Nancy Lowdermilk was eleven
years old, and they say that within ten days after the bombard-
ment of Fort Sumter, her father was sent to Charleston, S. C.,
to do duty in the salt works, leaving his family, his wife and
six children on the farm. Just three months after he went away,
Nancy's mother died of smallpox, leaving Nancy in a big house,
not yet twelve, with five little children younger than she. The
neighbors came and tried to get Nancy to allow them to divide
the children among them till the war was over, but Nancy
wouldn't listen to it. She told them, "I can take care of the
children without any help." In about a montl1, the neighbors
came back again and struggled to convinced her it was best,
and safer too, for the children to come and live with them. But
Nancy said, "I'm not afraid," and politely turned them down.
Nancy was the oldest child, and she had by now learned a
great deal from her mother-how to cook, make a garden, can
fruit, dry fruit and store vegetables, potatoes, carrots, turnips
and cabbage in the fall, so that they would last semi-fresh
through the winter. She knew how to knit, sew and even make
garments. She had been helpful with the little children as they
90
came along; and all this gave her a feeling of confidence, along
with her deep sense of responsibility. Now I've been around
quite a bit, and observed a lot of twelve-year-aids, often com-
paring them.,..... or maybe I should say, contrasting them- with-
out their kllowing it, with little Nancy, as she undertook the
job of feedirig, clohing and training five little children in a big
house on a 'farm, with no neighbors closer than a mile- and
not a doctor within fifteen. miles!
The foragers, of course, struck and carried away most of her
livestock. Luckily, they failed to get one milk cow and a few
pigs and chickens. They got several of her chickens and all of
her horses. But she was wise enough to hide her cow back in
the woods in a pen on the branch below the spring. She boarded
up the chicken house and made the chickens and turkeys fly
to catch them; and in this way, she carried on. Soon .the farm
looked so desolate, the soldiers usually passed it up. Once,
however, she said three men came in the house; but when they
learned about her plight, they went back out to their horses
and fetched in a nice ham they had taken from somebody else
and gave it to her.
Each spring the neighbors came and plowed her garden. She
knew when to plant and what to plant, and the result of her
garden effort paid off. The neighbors occasionally brought her
some corn, which she parched on the hearth and pounded with
a hammer for the children to eat. Toward the end of the war,
she said she "cut up sacks and made the children garments to
keep them covered till the war was over." On the twenty-ninth
day after the war was over, her father walked home. He had
been away four years, and had had no word till now that his
wife had died. He was overcome when he realized that Nancy
had kept the children alive and well for four years by herself.
In fact, he could hardly believe the story when his neighbors
told him of her ingenuity and devotion to her task.
To her great surprise, the people of her neighborhood an-
nounced a big celebration honoring her, to be held at the Pleasant
Hill Church- the church for which her fatl1er some years be-
fore had given the land and had helped build. Little had he
known that his daughter would be honored in it a few years
hence. When the occasion arrived, he could hardly hold back
the tears of gratitude. He was asked to arise and take a bow.
91
 On the day of the celebration, the church conldn't hold the
crowd, and it was said that the speakers stood on the church
steps and talked to the crowd outside. Five neighbors, nearest
to her house, told their stories of how she had managed to feed
and clothe the children, hide her milk cow and work her garden.
They had all the children stand up on the church steps, so that .
the crowd could see them; and after it was over, the people
swarmed around them to ask questions. Her mother's people
up near Fayetteville had heard about the celebration, and four
wagonloads of friends and relatives drove ninety-seven miles
to be there.
Now you just know that Yancey was there also, saw every-
thing and heard every speech- and his mother too, for she
was always looking for a girl of "good breeding" for Yancey
-and now it sure looked like they had fmmd her.
Then, just before the ceremony was concluded, the chairman
of "The War Heroes Committee" announced that "the next
celebration of this nature will be held thirty days hence, at
the Panther Creek Quaker Meeting House, to honor Yancey
Harmon Cox for fetching his twenty-one neighbor boys back
home from the war."
NANCY LOWDERMILK HAD A PEDIGREE
Now I am sure you have already guessed after that grand
celebration honoring Nancy Lowdermilk that Yancey would de-
velop a fond attachment for that area of the countryside. Her
home was in the next township to the south of ours. A11d Grand-
mother also got terribly interested in the genealogy of the Lowder-
milks and did some personal research on her own account.
Without much actually being said between her and Yancey, there
seemed to be a sort of mutual agreement that N arrey Lowdermilk
was "blooded stock," though both of them were too proud to
show their hand, waiting and observing for some months how the
Lowdermilk girl deported herself in the community.
Down through the years, Yancey's ancestors had used great
-caution in selecting their life partuers from families who had
Teason to be proud of their background; and so far, they had not
made a single blunder. Their womel). had, in every case, proven
92
their worth both in character and performance. Harmon's Jane set
a pattern, appearing far superior in ability to the average wife
of the settlers. She was a genuine companion, wife, mother; and
when the need arose, she was a supervisor of the plantation when-
ever Harmon !had to be away on business. This pattern of mutual
management ihad been copied by each succeeding generation,
clear down to Yancey, and now he was doubly cautious to equal
or even excel in the same general pattern.
Before long it became common knowledge that Nancy Lowder-
milk was descended from the proud family of Lowdermilks, who
had escaped 'from Bavaria way back in 1595 under the despotic
rule of King Frederick, because they had the courage to express
religious views at variance with the accepted order. Some of her
antecedents, unable to escape, were mercilessly persecuted and
even burned at the stake. They were able finally to join up
I with other Germans fleeing for the same reason, eventually find-
r ing refuge in Holland, where hundreds of "Separatists" had
come, escaping from England. Remaining there for a time, and
I eventually joining up with French Huguenots who had been
driven out of France for the same reason, they finally got pas-
I sage to the New World. In this Lowdermilk family was one out-
standing revolutionary patriot, Jacob Lowdermilk, a lieutenant
of infantry, who distinguished himself in the War for Indepen-
dence under the leadership of Colonel Heuser. In Bavaria the
name Lowdermilk was spelled "Laudermilch," meaning "pure
milk"; later it was changed to Lowdermilk after they reached
America.
Some years before, when Nancy's father had donated land on
his plantation for a church and graveyard, he was instrumental
in having the body of Jacob Lowdermilk brought ~rom anot?er
place and buried there. This church was where the big celebratiOn
was held honoring Nancy after the Civil War was over. The
same church, the Pleasant Hill Methodist Church, rebuilt now
in modern style, was the scene of a second celebration for my
mother, Nancy Lowdermilk Cox, only a few year~ ago, when
a stained-glass window in this church was dedicated m her honor.
Emsley Lowdermilk, my grandfather, also looked into the mat-
ter of carefully selecting the mother of his children, Mary Ellen
Clendennin, finding her in Alamance County, at Fayettev~lle. She
was a descendant of a famous Holland-Dutch family which also
escaped after the aftermath of the Reformation, coming over
93
 to ;\merica in 1716 and settling with a Dutch colony near Fayet-
~eyJ~e. Here, then, was the background of two proud .families
JOmmg, from which came Nancy Lowdermilk.
N~w / know you have already guessed it ... sure, they got
mar~1ed. Yancey Harmon Cox and Nancy Anne Lowdermilk-
nothi~g could. st.op t~em. It was perfect, a natural; it just had
~o. be ..And It. IS sa1d that on that occasion, when they were
Jomed m marnage, the crowd of people was the largest ever
to assemble up to that time in Randolph County.
YANCEY AND NANCY TAKE OVER
THE PLANTATION
The suggestion of a possible romance corning up in my last
c~apter would indicate, in present-day style, that after the Pleasant
HI!! ceremony there might be an elopement that same night on
two of the best Percheron horses in Grandmother's barn. But in
those days a very contrasting plan was followed. Yancey's and
Nancy's marriage took place four years after the war ended
o~ March 1.6' 1869. Yancey was sure he had found the right
girl, and .this alone was tl1e reason he now felt impelled to
prep.are h1m~elf for the full measure of responsibility for be-
commg the ~fe companio~ of such a fine girl as Nancy as well
as the propnetor of the b1g Cox plantation.
A lot goes into th~ making of a man- a good, clean, whole-
some ancestry, the pnde of being a product of it, and the resolve
not only to measure up to its standards of conduct but to con-
tribute to its lustre. Some of these things, when we are born, are
thrust upon us; but from then on, we have an option to enrich
the heritage or depreciate it.
After four years of war, the plantation had grown up in un-
derbrush, except for a few fields partially worked by the girls
and colored help. A lot of grubbing and clearing had to be done.
E~erything was in disrepair; the tannery had to be started up
f01 new leather for harness, and the plowshares and other tools
had to be worked over in the blacksmith shop, along with a
thousa~d cho_res conn~cted with the breeding and conversion of
the vanous .kinds of hvesto~k. Pastme fences were in bad shape,
and new ralis had to be split. The idea of using labor in lieu of
94
money for the sale of stock soon put a number of workmen on
the plantation where they were most needed. The sound head
of Grandmother, combined with the energetic youth of Yancey,
soon made g~eat strides in streamlining the place.
By the tilne they were married, Yancey had become profi-
cient as a public surveyor. He had mastered a number of books,
and was ndw a veterinary surgeon also. He was being called
out on these jobs, for which he obtained cash or labor; and for
a day of smveying, he could hire a dozen men to grub on the
land. He was "ambition personified," and wanted to increase the
cleared land to one thousand acres and double the pastures. His
blooded stock and fowls were increasing rapidly, and things gen-
erally were looking up.
The wedding was a huge affair, and people came from far and
near. In the four years before their marriage, their fame had
spread far and wide. They had, of course, taken part in the
"barn-raisings," the "spelling bees," the "square dances" and
various "after-war ceremonies" held throughout the county; and
often they were introduced on public occasions in outlying com-
munities. So when their marriage took place, the whole country-
side turned out. A Jot of people also wanted to come and see
the livestock and the Cox plantation. It was a big affair!
.I
I'
Mofuer ,told us that, soon after their marriage, she often went
along with Yancey while he was clearing land. One day he was
I cutting down trees, and she was piling and burning brush. They
had left the baby nearby in the shade of an oak tree with the
I bulldog. And she said:
"A neighbor happened to pass by; and when he got close to
the baby, the bulldog tore out after him. As he was trying to
clinlb over the fence, the bulldog actually tore his breeches clear
. I off . . . and after walking about two miles to his home without
breeches, when he got there his wife had company, so he had
to crawl in through the kitchen window!"
As time went on, Yancey became proficient in other Jines of
activity, which took him away from home. But it became evident
that Nancy could run the plantation in his absence as a side-
line- and have babies, too. And they were coming along fast,
including two sets of twins, altogether fourteen of us. I was the
last one, coming when Mother was forty-one.
One of these extra activities was auctioneering. In our county
it was called "crying a sale." He had a loud voice, quick wit,
95

ready humor, knew everybody, knew what he was selling, and
was so entertaining that he kept everybody close np to the articles
being sold. He generally sold out bankmpt businesses, stock and
farm implements, cattle, etc. By taking these jobs on a per-
c~ntage basis, he could treble an ordinary wage. He dispensed
w1th a clerk; and as he sold, he wrote down the name of the
article, what it sold for and who had bought it- and kept right
on talking, all without even looking at the paper! He had the
strange ability of doing two things at once. He could, for ex-
ample, write a word with both hands at the same. He could mb
his stomach with one hand, and pat the top of his head with
the other, without a fumble. You try it, and see how you do!
Now, with this kind of mind, he could earn enough in a day
of auctioneering to hire sixteen harvest hands.
One of the really big jobs he did was for the bankrupt stock
of a general store with farm implements and a feeding lot- and
a combination of horses and cattle on the side. In advertising
the sale all over the country, the poster said:
ATTENTION EVERYBODY
BIG THREE DAY AUCTION SALE-
COME ONE, COME ALL
BILL TYSON SELLING OUT
EVERYTHING GOES TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER-
NO BY-BIDDERS ALLOWED
Sale starts TUESDAY 10:00 o'clock, OCT. 7th, 1891
YANCEY COX WILL CRY THE SALE
20 Blooded Horses, 19 Big Mules, 107 Head of Jersey
Cattle, 47 Hogs, 134 Sheep, 17 Goats, 47 Hives of Bees,
10 Peacocks, 89 Geese, 40 Turkeys, 200 Chickens and
3 Fighting Cocks. ' with faraway people, which was a great help to h1m m politics.
96
1
l
ALSO
ALL FURNITURE AND FURNISHINGS-
1 SIX-FOOT LOOM
AND
1 COVERED WAGON, 1 SURRY, 3 BUGGIES, 1
BUCKBOARD, 2 CARTS, TOGETHER WITH
WORKING HARNESS AND SUNDAY HARNESS,
NEARLY NEW LEATHER, CUSTOM MADE
FREE VICTUALS FOR ALL
20 HOGS TO BE BARBECUED, 600 LOAVES OF
HOMEMADE BREAD, 2 BARRELS OF PICKLES,
AND 10 BARRELS HARD APPLE CIDER
ALL YOU CAN EAT AND ALL YOU
CAN DRINK FREE!
COME-CAMP OUT-STAY TWO DAYS
And boy, what a sale that was! Some thought there were 3,000
persons there. And did they eat- and drink cider! Two days
before the sale, a ditch was filled with hickory logs, which
burned for twenty-four hours until the ditch was full of hot
ashes. Then, the night before the sale, the hogs were covered
an inch thick with potter's clay and rolled into the red-hot ashes,
about two feet deep, to roast about fourteen hours.. When noon
came around the barbecue was ready to serve- b1g hunks of
pork in between two slices of homemad~ bread, with a whole
cucumber pickle and a gourdfnl of apple c1der; and a great many
came back for seconds-and got 'em!
Scores of families came thirty to forty miles, camped out and
stayed three days, bought a lot of stuff and hauled it ho~e in
their wagons. It was a good way for Yancey to ~et ~cqum_n~ed
He was getting known while he was getting paid for it.
97
 If you've never been to an auction sale, go! It's a treat! And
you'll learn a lot about human nature. Two people think they
v.:ant the ~arne thing, ~nd the "crier" edges them up a few pen-
mes at a t1me, .each vymg with the other, and pretty soon they're
both broke trymg to buy something they didn't need in the first
place!
CALL FOR YANCEY COX
Along with many things for which Yancey got paid, there
were a hundred favors he did for people he simply wouldn't
charge for. In those days there wasn't a doctor within ten miles,
any direction, with large families on a farm every mile or two.
Our county was at least 90 per cent rural. People not only got
sick but they had many accidents, broken bones, cuts, and so on.
It was a common saying that you "could get anything fixed at
the Yancey plantation"; and so they just came with their troubles
and asked for help. And if Yancey wasn't home, Nancy fixed it!
Now a strange thing happened one Sunday morning just as
we were all getting into the wagon to go to church. We heard a
teJTifying noise up the lane, about a mile away, and soon we
saw three wagons coming, with the horses at a gallop. There
were about fifteen Negro men and women in each wagon, and
they were all crying and praying at the very top of their voices.
When they rushed up to our gate, they began saying: "Oh,
Yancey Cox! God has sent us to you for help! Come quick be-
fore our little boy dies -or goes crazy!"
In the middle wagon six men were holding down a little
twelve-year-old boy who had a bean in his ear. Some mischievous
boys had showed him a sleight-of-hand trick-pretending to
push a bean into the ear and take it out of the mouth. Well, when
he tried it, the trick hadn't worked so well for the boy; and the
bean he had pushed into his ear three days before was now
swelling up . . . and actually getting about ready to sprout!
While Yancey went to the blacksmith shop to make an in-
strument for getting the bean out, the colored people knelt in
the yard and prayed at the top of their voices for both Yancey
and the little boy. Actually you could hear them for a mile. Fin-
98
ally, he came from the shop. The men laid the little boy on the
front porch steps in the bright sunlight and held him down while
Yancey .operated on him. Yancey had made an instrument of
steel, thm and strong, with a hook to it, and he slipped it past
the bean, ned it slightly, and pulled the bean out. Then, for
fully five mmutes, they all shouted and cried for joy thanking
God, and Yancey, for "deliverance"! '
They tried to pay Yancey some money. But he wouldn't let
them, saying, "When I was in the shop I heard you praying
for me, and that's pay enough." Then he asked them "How far
did you come with the boy?" They told him sixteen ~es. Then
he said, "I am giving you sixteen watermelons to take back with
you- a watermelon for each mile. Good day, and good luck!"
Then they all drove off up the lane, singing instead of crying.
The following Sunday, a neighbor asked Mother why we all
had not been at church last Sunday. She said, "Because we had
church for two hours in our front yard last Sunday."
EVERYTHING ELSE AND A SURGEON, TOO
In all my life, I have never seen a person able to adjust to
anybody and anything or to any situation more easily than my
Mother. Once, when she met the Governor unexpectedly, she felt
embarrassed and upset; but later the Governor remarked "That
little lady in gray over there is a woman of unusual cha;acter!"
She had made quite an impression on him without knowing it.
She mingled with the ordinary people and the high and mighty, as
well as the colored of the community, and equally impressed all
of them as a woman of unusual character.
You would think that managing the plantation, as a sideline,
. for weeks at a time, hiring and paying off the farm hands, feed-
ing them two meals- "dinner and supper," as we called it-
would be enough for any woman to do. But in addition to these
things, she frequently was called, often at night, to go in a hurry
to help a baby come into the world, at the insistence of a di-
straught neighbor. And nearly every week, somebody on the plan-
tation- twenty to forty of us in the field working with a lot
of mean horses- was carried in broken-up or cut-up, for Mother
to work on. To take care of any emergency quickly, she always
99
kept a needle and silk thread in a kettle of boiling water. She
also had splints made up in sets to fit any bone that might be
broken, from thigh-bone' size to that of a finger, all tied together
so that all she had to do was set the bone, wrap the splits around
and tie the cords- just like a cast, with enough room between
the splints to reach in and scratch a little!
Now the only anesthetic in those days was "six good strong
fellers to hold down the victim." The "operating" was usually
done on the front porch steps- in the bright sun.
In the course of time many serious accidents occnrred. I've
known persons standing by to faint as they watched her "operate."
The more serious the accident, the steadier she seemed to be.
Certainly, in twenty years, nearly everything happened on the
plantation that could happen. And without being awed or upset,
she always stepped right up and took over as if she had done
it before.
Last summer in Hollywood I was thrilled with pride to learn
how my granddaughter, about fourteen, had gained a reputation
at the Y.W.C.A. camp that summer for being called "Our First-
Aid Doctor." The camp director said they were amazed at how
well she conld handle nearly any situation until the doctor came
-probably a throwback to Nancy.
One day my sister, Louelvia, was chopping wood, and brother
Winfred about seven, ran under her axe. Fortunately, he was
"hard-h~aded" and the axe was dull- otherwise the accident
might have been fatal. Instead, the axe scalped him, and the
whole top of his scalp fell forward over his face, a patch about
four inches square. He, of course, helped with the general alarm.
In about six minutes, he was pinned down on the front steps,
and Mother was sewing his scalp back on. Winfred was one of the
boys who became a preacher, and he had such a beautifnl head
of hair that, if anything, it detracted from his preaching. It was
thick, wavy and iron-gray. One of the neighbors remarked one
day that Nancy must have sprinkled in a little "fertilizer" before
she sewed his scalp back on!
Now, believe it or not, Stenben (the other brother who also
became a preacher), when he was about six years old, wanted
a drawing knife which was hanging on a nail up about six feet
on the wall. He couldn't reach it, so he got a stick and began
punching at it. Finally, it fell across the bridge of his nose, cutting
his nose off flush with his checks down to the lower corners.
100
His nose fell forward into his mouth. Well, he wasted no time
sounding the alarm. Luckily, Mother had three colored women
in the house helping that day, and they say that within four
minutes they had him pinned down on the front steps, and she
sewed his hose back on- and it stayed on, too! And he kept
blowing that same nose for seventy more years. He preached till
he was seventy-six, and I heard him "WOW" his congregation
. at a "potluck supper," saying: "I've had my nose cut off once
before, so-come-on-with-your-rough-stuff!"
In the course of time, nearly every one of us in the family
got cut up, or broken up ... and recovered too! She sewed me
up in two places- and I've never busted out at either seam yet!
And the amazing thing about it is that never once did she have
an infection problem. Every bone joined up, and no one she
ever worked on had to be referred to a doctor.
No wonder, among her offspring, there have been forty-three
girls named "Nancy"!
THE OLD LOG SCHOOLHOUSE
When I think of the Old Log Schoolhouse I wish you could
get at least a slight idea of things as they were in those days, so
that you might have a greater appreciation of the wonderful op-
portunities you have today.
Nowadays the school bus swings by your corner, you step on,
then you step off, and you're tl1ere! We had to get up long
before daylight, feed the hogs, feed the horses, milk the cows
and leave home before sun-up, then walk and run for an hour
through rain and mud to our schoolhouse. You arrive at a heated,
ventilated, well-lighted, modern building, comfortable desks to
study on, and with the latest gymnasium and playground equip-
ment. We arrived at an unlleated, one-room log schoolliouse,
with a fireplace in one end and a "pot-bellied" stove in the other,
with .only two small windows on the sides for light. Sometimes
the teacher got there early and had fires going; but for the first
hour, we all sat close together on slab benches and shivered, one
teacher for the whole school of eighty to a hundred pupils in
all grades! You have the latest editions of textbooks fur-
nished free, with special maps, charts and audio-visual aids, radio
101
 and T.V. equipment. We bought only whatever books we were
fortunate enough to get- a geography of a sort, an arithmetic,
a poor history of the United States, the old Blue-Back Speller,
McGuffy's Reader, and a grammar- generally, only one of each
to a family. You attend school nine months of the year. We went
for three months- December, January and February. Your
teachers are specially prepared to teach each subject, and they
have a college degree. Ours seldom knew more than some of
us did.
But we had one advantage you don't have- the farther down
one is, the farther he knows he has to jump! We were scared
worse -like the frog in a pool that had figured he couldn't jump
out, but when he saw a snake coming, he got right out of there!
.We learned enough to know we were way down, so we put all
we had in it and got out of there! Sometimes a good scare is
even more effective than hope of reward. In our case, we took
advantage of both prime reasons for action-- and it's a cinch,
we sure had both! A double incentive!
At one time, there were eight of us going to the same school.
For limch we took a basket of yams and about four pumpkin
custards, chipped beef and dried fruit, always coming home at
night ravenously hungry.
When I was five, Mother let me go to school along with the
rest. They had begged her to let me go, the teacher had agreed,
and they promised to carry me piggy-back, first one, then another.
Both while going and coming, they all said out loud the multipli-
cation table, in turns; and when anyone made a mistake, that
was the signal to "pitch" me over for him to carry me, till
someone else made a mistake. Sometimes I would sail through
the air like a bundle of wheat. Winfred and Steuben delighted
in throwing me clear across the road to each other; and once in
a while, I slithered through their arms into the mud. But, you
know, I heard the drone of the multiplication table so much,
going and coming, that I learned it by "rote," so that I could say
it clear through to 12 x 12 = 144 by the time I was six.
Now don't get the idea that our three months' school gave us
a better break than you get out of nine. We always spent about
three hours every night around the big fheplace- someone
throwing in a fresh "pine-lmot" every half-hour for a bright blaze
-not only during the school term but actually throughout the
entire year, carrying on a system of self-tutoring in all the text-
102
books we had. Questions were collected from various sources
in all texts; and as we wrestled with the answers and advance
information on many subjects, we all seized on to the informa-
tion, so that we conld hardly absorb and appropriate it as fast
as it came I in. But we had an insatiable craving for knowledge,
whetted constantly by this incessant routine of nightly sessions,
of give and take, each one vying to pnt a question which wonld
stump the crowd. When Yancey was away, someone generally
took over as moderator, though it was pretty much a free-foi-all
question-arid-answer method. It always was so rewarding that
we never seemed to tire of it.
Another thing which added greatly to our list of tricks was
a choice collection of "charades," "riddles," "conundrums,"
"puns," "puzzles," "sleight-of-hand tricks" and "tongue-twisters."
Yancey had just about a dozen good tricks for each of the
above classifications. They came in handy in case any of ns were
caught in a situation suddenly when we had to entertain a crowd
or hold the attention of a group, maybe temporarily, between
"acts."
It was customary in those days for the public-school teacher
to be invited once, during the school term, to spend one night
with each family in the district; and very often, the above tricks
seemed to provide a lot of amusement for the entire family. It
made us look smarter than we really were.
Those who were teaching, as well as Yancey, continually
brought home with them up-to-date information on current events,
political life, social movements, business and religious activities.
These things greatly broadened our h01izon and enabled us oc-
casionally to show off our lmowledge in our own neighborhood.
I've belm begged to put in this little intimate story, which has
been worth more and more to me through the years ever since
it happened.
One day, after the rest of the children had gone off to school,
Mother read me the story in the Bible about "Joseph, sold into
Egypt." After I had played around for a w~ile, I came back
to her and said, "Ma, if some men should dnve up to .our gate
with a wagon-bed full of dollars, and want to buy a httle boy,
would you sell me?"
Quickly; she said, "No, I should say not!" . "
Then, in about an hour, I came back and smd, If those same
men should come back again witl1 a wagon-bed full of dollars,
103
with side boards on, would you take that much money?"
She answered, "No, I'd just tell them to drive on; there's no
boy for sale at this house, for any price!"
This incident had an amazing effect on me. For the first time,
I got the idea that I was worth something- and worth so much
that, even with the "side boards" on, Mother was not in the
least interested in a deal. All through my life, in a thousand ways,
Mother kept on raising her appraisal of my value so fast and so
much that my astonishment at her idea of my "worth" made no
effort short of my level best satisfying enough to me from that
day till this. It would break my heart, even now, to let her down!
There was not a library within a hundred miles as we grew
up. And only rarely did we ever hear of a book belonging to our
neighbors which we didn't have. When I think of it, we had a
very scarce list of books in our home, though the quality, as you
will see, was commendable: The Bible, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Prog-
ress, Essays by Emerson, Sermons by Spurgeon and John Wesley,
Hymns by Charles Wesley, The Life of Abraham Lincoln, The
History of the Reformation, and Webster's Dictionary. But from
these we got an insatiable desire to want to "be somebody" in
the world.
THE YANCEY SCHOOL OF "LEARNING
BY DOING"
Now the Old Log Schoolhouse, and the textbooks we studied,
was only one phase of what Yancey figured was "education."
To his way of thinking, one had to be schooled in the practical
as well as the theoretical, able actually to do anything that needed
to be done, not merely thinking you knew how to do it or be-
lieving that, in theory, you might teach another person how
he could do it- but ACTUALLY DOING IT, then explaining
the theory of how it was done! Yancey maintained that learning
is incomplete until the "act is performed."
Learning by doing was Yancey's method of teaching a full
generation before it became the generally accepted method by
the best educators of the country. Throughout all our school days
-and school nights, by the family fireplace- he instilled in us
104
the principle that "the object of education was action, accom-
plishing something with what you learn." Probably that is why
eleven of us became teachers. He used to say: "Anyone learning
even as much as you know should feel duty-bound and obligated
to teach others."
Furthermore, he insisted that every one of us master the art
of doing a'nything on the plantation that was in regular course
of duty. It was not enough just to watch someone shoe a horse.
We were expected to actually shoe a horse- each one of us-
by the time we were twelve. More than that, we were expected
to .go into the blacksmith shop and hammer out a horseshoe, punch
six holes in it and turn it out a finished article. Also, we were
taught how to weld two pieces of iron together on _an anvil.
Often on a rainy day we spent hours in the shop makmg three-
pronged "gigs" and steel arrow points for shooting fish in the
creek at night by the light of a pine torch.
In the matter of handling stock, each one of us learned the
art and science of breeding and cross-breeding, as well as the
"conversion" of livestock. We were taught to judge the age of
animals the "earmarks" and early characteristic behavior of
animals' which marked them generally as either a "good" or
a "poor"; risk. . . .
A great many matters of importance m handlmg and tram-
ing horses had to be mastered. Certain metho~s had to be ~sed
with great precision in training a horse to adjust to the vanous
uses on the farm, working in single or double harness, and,
even more in teaching a horse the "riding gaits": trotting, gal-
loping, si~gle-footing, and so on. Perfect training assured a
higher sale price; and as each one of us handled th~ horses,
it was all the more important that the method be uniform as
well as perfect.
The same thing was true in training our hounds. You would
be surprised to know the art and science used in developing a
young dog into a dependable "foxhound"- one. ~!rich woul?n't
even look at a rabbit as it ran off in front of him, or trail a
'possum or a coon at night. We had rabbit dogs and coon d_ogs.
They were always called just "dogs," but after they were tramed
for foxes, they took on lustre; they became important, were
promoted, and then called foxhounds! Henceforth, they beca~e
canines of the highest value. Yancey expected as much of us m
the training of our dogs as in training our blooded horses.
105

Now he was a teacher himself, and in the matter of how to
teach, as w.ell as in the discipline to be maintained in the school,
he emphasized certain fundamental principles to follow, which
for eleven of us worked successfully.
While we boys were learning how to run a farm, the girls,
under Mother's guidance, were learning first how to cook, 'as a
helper, and then to take over the full responsibility for cooking
fo~ a whole week for the family. They were trained to card, spin,
knit, cut out and sew, not only to make their own clothes, but
then to have to wear them. They learned in the early days how
to find certain trees in the woods for bark to dye the yarn, and
they also learned how to weave cloth with a pattern on the
old loom.
On the farm the handling of meat was quite a science, and
Mother taught the girls how to take over after the actual butch-
ering was done by the men. The fat trimmings from the hogs'
hams and bacon sides were boiled up into grease, which was
made into shortening or lard. The hams, shoulders and bacon
sides were dipped into brine and hung up in the smokehouse to
cure. The lean trimmings were made into sausage, and the special
spices from the garden were added as the meat went through the
grinder- sage, thyme, and so on. Red pepper pods cut up fine
not only decorated the meat but gave it zip like none other
you ever tasted. The trimmings and fat from the mutton were
boiled up into, grease, which she poured into candle molds with
a string stretched through them for a wick. All excess grease
from all animals was mixed with lye, and lye was obtained by
seeping water through hickory ashes, and this combination she
used in making soap. The choice cuts of loin and top round
she usually dipped in brine and hung in hickory smoke for about
three weeks to cure; after that, we used a "drawing knife" to
shave off slices a good deal like "chipped beef."
She also taught the girls how to garden, when to plant seed
of various kinds, how to set out plants, and, in the fall, how
to store certain things to keep them semi-fresh through the win-
ter, like turnips, carrots, cabbage, etc. She grew her own spices
-about twenty kinds- and taught the girls what spices fit
certain dishes. And as the babies came along, she took full ad-
vantage to teach the girls all about homemaking, how to take
care of babies and what to do when they had their baby upsets.
In the fall a colored cobbler came, measured each one's feet
106
and made shoes to fit- and only one pair of shoes a year. From
then on, we boys were taught how to keep these shoes mended.
Yancey made a last of iron in the shop the shape of a foot;
we put the shoe on it, cut out a sole or a heel tap to fit, used
an awl to i make holes all around the edges, and, instead of
tacks, used, wooden pegs, the size of a match stick, a quarter
of an inch long, which we drove through the sole and the inner
sole, bradding the pegs on the iron last. Then we carefully
trimmed the edges, buffed and gave ihe shoes a "good black-
in' " with soot and mutton tallow.
In the field of public-speaking Yaneey had great delight, and
here again he insisted that we measure up to the mark, in ac-
tually demonstrating under any and all conditions our , "ability
to speak to a person, a group, or even an audience, clearly,
audibly, logically and forcefully." That was his formnla- ex-
cept he usually added one more thing: "Always know when to
stop!" Now, if you don't think that was one of the severest tests
he ran us through, you've got another guess coming! To some
people, standing up and speaking to a crowd is just one notch
short of being shot at. Steuben, who later became a preacher,
was like that, and until he was ten he used to say his speech
and cry, clear to the end. But he had such dogged determination
that if he had to say a speech ten minutes long, he never once
ran out of tears; and it was just like him to fight anybody who
snickered at him as he did it.
In those days it was a very popular custom for the public
schools to wind up their school terms with what was called
"commencements " at which time several "said speeches in a
contest for prize; and medals." Yancey thought this was a great
idea, and. he entered us in every commencement contest he could
hear of. In his public connections, it was easy for him to find
suitable selections or compose them himself, as he generally did,
on religious or patriotic supjects, which we memorized and de-
livered with considerable effectiveness, under his direction. We
won prizes right and left, and I tell you our onslaught on the
commencements in Randolph County was so successful that
after a few years the whole idea sort of flattened out. We won
nearly every contest, so that other entrants refused to compete:
All this delighted Yancey no end. He contended that speaking
in public built courage into a person, just as push-ups develop
muscle. And maybe he was right, for Steuben, when he became
107
a minister, had the least fear of large crowds of any preacher
I ever knew. Probably for most of us this public speaking train-
ing was the most valuable of all the other "hard knocks" he put
us through. It paid off through the years for several of us.
(Below is a speech I won a medal with-when I was twelve-
typical of the "declamations" we used . . . and worthy of this
reprint.)
IMMORTALITY
by
William Jennings Bryan
Christ gave us proof of immortality! And yet it would
hardly seem necessary that one should rise from the dead
to convince us that the grave is not the end.
To every created thing, God has given a tongue that
proclaims a resurrection. If the Father deigns to touch with
Divine power the cold and pulseless heart of the buried acorn,
and make it burst forth from its prison walls, will He leave
neglected in the earth the soul of man, made in the image
of his Creator? If He stoops to give to the rose bush, whose
withered blossoms float upon the autumn breeze, the sweet
assurance of another spring time, will He refuse the word
of hope to the sons of men, when the frost of their winter
comes? If matter, mute and inanimate, though changed by
the force of nature into a multitude of forms, can never
die, will the spirit of man suffer annihilation when it has
paid a brief visit, like a royal gnest to this tenement of
clay? No! I am as sure that there is another life as I am that
I live today.
In Cairo, I secured a few grains of wheat that had slum-
bered for more than three thousand years in a Egyptian
tomb. As I looked at them this thought came into my mind:
if one of those grains had been planted on the banks of
the Nile the year after it grew, and all its lineal descendants
planted and replanted from that time until now, its progeny
would today be sufficiently numerous to feed the teeming
millions of the world.
108
There is in the grain of wheat an invisible something
which has power to discard its old body, and from earth
and air, fashion a new body, so much like the old one that
we cannot tell one from the other. If this invisible germ of
life in the grain of wheat can thus pass unimpaired through
three i thousand resurrections, I shall not doubt that my soul
has power to clothe itself with a new body, suited to its
new existence, when this earthly frame has crumble into
dust. '
In this intensive school of learning by doing, Yancey continually
confronted us with daring things to do. He was enamored of
anything filled with. danger and consistently set up dangerous
things for us to react to. A good deal of it was part of the normal
activities on the farm- working with mean, unbroken horses,
hunting, fishing, etc. But nothing seemed to give him more delight
than to watch us boys tackle a bumblebee nest with shingle
paddles. He made a standing offer of a new silver dollar to each
one of us if we could stand up to a continuous fight of a swarm
of bumblebees till every last one was killed.
Often while harvesting we came across a nest, and they had
to be exterminated before we could proceed with cutting the
wheat in .tlmt area. Generally, there are fifty to one hundred
bees on hand, and a few, of course, are always away on busi-
ness. On the occasion of the biggest .fight I ever observed, there
seemed to be an extra battalion on guard the day we hit a huge
nest. The forward man with his scythe and cradle had accidentally
bruised the nest, and about a hundred bees opened up on us
without warning. In those days women workers followed the
cradles, binding up the wheat into sheaves, or bundles; and boy,
did they run when a bumblebee nest was discovered! In fact,
all work stopped till the fight was over.
There are three sizes of bumblebees; there were the large kind,
as big as a man's thumb. Boy, if one of that variety ever got
through to you, it was an experience you'd never forget as long
as you lived- if you lived!
Winfred, Steuben and a Negro boy carried their shingle paddles
with them as they worked in the field- and the battle was on!
The rest of the harvest hands generally gathered around Yancey
as they all watched the fight. We all stood in a group about
one hundred feet away, a distance considered to be safe. Very
109
often, we could actually see the boys knock the fire out of those
big bruisers with their paddles. But when one got through, past
the paddle, instead of any further striking out in mid-air, a
change of strategy was instantaneous; and how Yancey laughed
when a boy began "beating himself all over himself" trying to
mash the bee before it stung him! Nobody had to tell him to
hurry.
Generally, a bumblebee will sail up in the air about twenty
feet and, like a fish hawk, hold that position for about three
seconds- probably adjusting his bombsights- then, like a jet,
make a suicide dive at you; and if you are not as quick as
lightning with your shingle paddle, he'll get through to you. And
if he does, you'll learn a lot more about yourself than you thought
you knew. If you could spot only one bee at a time getting ready
to make the dive, it was fairly certain that you could bat a home
run as he came down, but two rascals coming at you at once
created a panic, when self-flagellation was the only recourse.
During the height of the fight, we saw Winfred bat five bees
in a row, one stroke for each bee, without missing; and then two
came at him at the same time. He got one, but the other bee
hit him on his forehead and knocked him flat!
Jnst as everyone's attention was glued on Winfred, at the
height of the battle, one of the Negro girls in our group sud-
denly squealed like a shoat, jumped . waist hig~, came do:vn
slapping her legs, hit the ground runrung, and disappeared hke
a whirling dervish into the willows. Again another squeal, and
the other women ran down to help her; but by the time they
reached the willows, she let out another shriek four hundred
yards down the creek! Next, we caught a quick glimpse of her
crossing an open field, on her way to mother at the house-
and without a stitch on!
The women came on back all out of breath; and the older one
said to Yancey, "Mistah Yancey, we tried to help dat gal, but
we couldn't ketch her; the only way I could ketch dat gal is to
get stung mahself!"
By now the boys had about mopped up the "blighters" and
were doublechecking their battle scars. Steuben came through
unscathed; the Negro boy got one sting, and Winfred ':'as stung
four times. His face swelled up so fast we bad to lead hun home.
Yancey gave him an extra bonus of four new silver dollars-
110
a dollar apiece for each sting. His head looked like a pumpkin!
There was a lot of speculation now about the Negro girl. Some
thought it was "pure imagination that seized her." The old
Negro woman allowed she must have been stung three times
- "maybe by de same bee, foh we found her frock in de willows
where she: squealed de third time and went on without it"! The
real facts couldn't be learned the next day, nor ever after. The
women wouldn't tell, and Mother never said how many poultices
she put on nor where; all Mother would say was that "the little
soul was terribly upset."
Once when we were all trying to drive a bunch of mean sheep
into the shearing corral, we had them pretty well up close to
the gate when the big "bellwether" figured I was probably the
"weakest link" in the line (I was eleven years old) ; and sud-
denly he headed for me, with about forty more following him
in a "breakthrough"! Yancey had cautioned us this might hap-
pen; and if it happened, he told every one of us to grab as many
as we could hold on to as they went through, for we had worked
hours getting them up to this point. Well, instead of jumping
to one side, I tackled him like in football; and as I rolled over
and over, I locked my legs around his body; then as the others
went over me in a stream, I caught two more by the legs; and
after the dust cleared, I had three sheep- one. more than any-
body else had- and the three had by now earned me down the
hill about fifty yards. The old ram was still jumping up a~d
down like crazy, bumping my back on some sharp rocks, till
finally some of the others boys came to my rescue. My clothes
were nearly all torn off, and not a square inch of me hadn't been
stepped on at least sixteen times. .
Now the most serious test of all was our gomg out to get
hired to teach school. Here was introduced, without frills, the
supreme test of individual ~~~ponsibili!J:'; we h~d now, ~t ,?lis
stage of the game, either to smk or swim, survive or pensh !
Nearly all of us started teaching public school when we were
eighteen years old- as soon as the_ Ia~ would allow it: I was
eighteen in June, and started teachmg m November. ~Irs!, we
had to take a stiff examination before the County Supenntendent
of Schools to obtain a satisfactory grade in order to get a cer-
tificate to teach. Every prospective teacher took this examination
on the same date; and when that was over, all the early birds
111
 got out all over the county fast, on a selling job, trying to get
the school committeemen of each district to hire him as their
teacher for the coming winter.
To show you how fierce the competition was, one sister of
mine, Amelia- "Mely" we called her- the twin sister of Dely,
lit out on a horse the same night she got her certiiicate, then rode
all night to get to a committeeman she had spotted way over
in another county. When she got there at sun-up, he was already
plowing- and wouldn't stop to listen to her talk. She hitched
her horse to a tree and followed him, still talking to him about
getting hired as he plowed back and forth across a ten-acre field
four times.
Then she said, "Now let me show you I can plow- you walk
along and ask me questions while I plow."
That fixed it! He hired her on the spot, then told her she could
board at his house that winter.
Another sister started out next morning on a mare with a
young colt; but after a mile away from home, the colt got con-
fused and ran back to our barn. But she kept right on going,
stayed out two nights, each night going out to the barn to milk
the mare after the family she was staying with had gone to sleep,
finally signing up a school on the third day and returning the
third night, when the mare and colt lived happily together ever
after!
Yancey continually cautioned us against forming a habit-
I mean a bad habit. He often said, "You're born with enough
handicaps, without learning a new one." He had an address he
often used at commencement exercises called: "Habits, Good and
Bad." In his admonition to young people, he showed how a good
habit was a fine thlng; it relieved the mind of effort, allowing
it to function on a new course of action, while the thing whlch
had become habitual worked automatically, thereby increasing
mental efficiency by double or even treble.
Mainly, though, in his address he stressed the pity of allowing
any bad habit to grow from an infant to a giant, taking possession
of a person and eventually making "slave" of him. In his speech
he generally covered many small traits of persons not usually
thought of by school children as habits at all- such as poor
bodily carriage, faulty enunciation, lack of ambition to achieve
a better status, losing temper instead of controlling it, etc. And
in order to leave a lasting impression, he used the trick of
112
"caricaturing" the things he was talking about- magnifying the
habit to the nth degree- and then showing them the picture.
Some of hls, illustrations were captivating, and his audience roared
their approval.
In his da)r there was a grand effort made the banish the saloon
from the state; and he was credited with no small part of the
effort- whlch, by the way, was successful, in the year 1881,
and years before many other states followed suit. He delighted
in raking any intelligent person for "playing with liquor," and
put the praptice on exactly the same basis as "playing with a rat-
tlesnake." Each little sip called for another, and even louder
for another; each dram called for two drams; the tippler soon
becaine a frequenter; and the frequenter eventually became a
drunk. The person who began witl10ut a habit soon had one-
before he knew it it had him! And from then on it became the
"master" and he became the "slave"!
By the time he had "caricatured" this picture, the~e was
scarcely a dry eye in the honse. Everyone was now certam they
might hit "Skid Row" if they even looked at a bottl~! More
than that, his address lifted every individual to new heights. of
self-esteem, a keener appreciation of those who were strugglmg
to elevate, the ideals of human society and a humbler reverence
for Ahnighty God. .
In this sort of training ground we grew up to face anything
that had to be faced- and to stand np to it at all costs. Many
times through my life I have grabbed at things as they went by,
and held on to things tlmt seemed impossible to hang o_n to,
thought of the bumble bee fights, and. the shee? pen expenence,
gritting my teeth, waiting for something to give! And I have
been eternally grateful for the vehement grip on it, inherited from
Yancey, and the patient tenacity, inherited from Nancy!
TYPICAL HOMESPUN HUMOR
Back in the days when I was growing up on the farm there
seemed to be more real joy in living than people have today.
There was plenty of time to live, plenty of time for fun, plenty
of time for everything. Hardly any one owned a watch; scarcely
113
 anybody needed one. And one always had a good time on every
occasion on arriving either early or late. The goal of the gen-
eral public in those days seemed to be the pursuit of happiness
with the aid of good humor.
Laughing was an art. It was considered a virtue also- a
component part of a well-rounded character. Any person who
couldn't laugh at a good joke was immediately suspected as an
undesirable character, "capable of murder, or worse"! And when
I say laugh, I mean laugh- the belly kind, when the whole
diaphragm comes into play, the kind Teddy Roosevelt used to
have or the famous "Veep"- Alben Barkley- whose laughter
was as catching as measles, spreading through a crowd like an
epidemic. That kind of laughter cleanses the very soul and cures
most of the ills of the mind and body which psychiatrists and
doctors think they are needed for.
In our part of the country it was a custom to lay plans well
ahead for at least one good laugh by everybody on every public
occasion. A very select standing committee- generally kept very
quiet- made all arrangements for at least one whopping joke
to be pulled off on somebody which would surely ring the bell.
Of course, great caution was always taken to be certain that no
doubtful implications or unfavorable repercussions could possibly
result. Even the "culprit" bearing the brunt of the joke was gen-
erally apprised beforehand of what was going to take place. The
more prominent the person, the better, and the more preposterous
.the implications, the greater the shock!
Typical, and probably the most unforgettable occasion, was a
joke perpetrated on Levi Cox, Yancey's cousin, who was known
intimately as the outstanding Quaker preacher in the South. It
was generally known also that he could take a joke of any kind
on himself, never appearing in the least to take offense or .even
be upset.
It occurred at a big commencement exercise in the central part
of our county. Levi had been invited to "give the charge" to the
graduating class; it was a grand occasion, and he was the prin-
cipal speaker. Yancey was selected to pull the joke on Levi, and
of course a lot depended on the finesse with which it was done
to assure its certain success. Yancey was good at such things. He
could tell a story so realistically that you not only believed it
but thought it happened only yesterday, and, in fact, right in
front of your very own eyes!
114
Yancey began:
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the man I am now about to introduce
is known throughout the state as the outstanding Quaker preacher
in the enti~e South. We are fortunate to have him here today
as our speaker. He is considered much more righteous than. most
of us; his integrity is beyond question, and his conduct is above
reproach. But so that you may come to know him and love
;:,. him as I do, I want to tell you a story about him which will
help to know that he is also as human as the rest of us are.
"Last Sunday morning he hitched up Old Mike- the tp.ule-
I to the buggy to drive nine miles to an eleven-o'clock preaching
I engagement. The old mule went along fine for a few miles, and
then 'balked.' He just refused to budge another step. Levi
'clucked' to him, tapped him with the reins, and said, 'Get up,
Mike, move along, move along,' but Mike wouldn't move along;
he wouldn't move an inch. Levi tried all the normal methods
for getting Mike to go, totally without results. He looked at
his watch, got out of the buggy, went around to the mule's head,
took him by the bit, looked him straight in the face and said,
'Now, Mike, it's nigh on to preachin' time, with two more miles
to go, and I am beginning to grow weary of thy stubbornness;
I have fed thee, and I have overlooked many of thy shortcom
ings until now; I dislike calling thee vile names, and I hate to
begin bruising thy flesh, but if .thee doesn't get me to this preach-
ing engagement by eleven o'clock, I will break thy damn neck.'!"
Well the crowd simply went nuts! Some of the men rolled on
the gr~und. They hung on each other's necks. They held their
stomachs. They went into spasms of laughter. And for the first
three minutes, it seemed to be getting even worse. Some of the
women tried to subdue their husbands, which didn't seem to
work but when they were certain that Levi had taken no offense,
even 'they joined in the fun and had a good lau?h. Finally, wh~n
the commotion subsided, Levi stood up, and h1s matchless gnn
reassured every one that he himself had enjoyed the "joke."
Then after a "silence" of a moment, in which you could have
heard a pin drop, he had this same audience in the palm of his
hand, moving them back and forth, from laughter to tears and
from tears to laughter, in his "charge," not only to the gradual
ing class but to every man, woman and child in the audience
to "seize the torch of righteousness, hold it high, and go forward
with it, dispelling the evil thoughts and the evil deeds of dark
115
 ness, lighting the way for those who believe in love laughter
good deeds and peace among the sons of men." ' '
If the "joke" was a success, so was the !'charge" of Levi and
the occasion l1as never been forgotten. ' '
OUR FAMILY SOCIAL LIFE
In colonial times, and particularly in the "Old South " family
~ounted far more than it does today. It represented the' culmina-
tiOn to date of the sum total of culture and refinement of its
progenitors for generations clear back. And in North Carolina,
when I grew up, families of pride generally could rnn their line
of ancestors back three or four generations on their father's and
mother's side and tell about their outstanding qualities. That was
the concept we had of our family; and Yancey, operating a
"blooded-stock plantation," naturally went overboard in his am-
bition to help his family mingle with the best people in the whole
co??tryside. He struggled t~ develop in us more than average
ability, self-esteem and fanuly pride; and we natnrally had an
abundance of vitality and an insatiable craving for excitement.
And certainly no one could doubt that Yancey was mighty proud
to have such a family on his plantation.
If the grass looked greener to us across the fence so it did to
him. And every time he was invited to make an 'address at a
commencement in another county, he generally took some of us
along. He was a fascinating speaker, and his anecdotes were
killers. Fully half the time his audience was in stitches; and, of
course, when the speech was over and the people swarmed around
him, we were right there ready to be introduced.
On these trips he suggested that we use our good judgment,
but to feel free to invite choice young people whom we met to.
visit us at our plantation some Sunday afternoon and stay for
supper. In most every case a group did come, and generally it
resulted in our being invited later to their conununity. Yancey
was never diffident in the least to ask people to come for a visit
to his plantation. I have heard him say, "I have blooded live-
stock, and I've got a blooded family too." He had top pride in
both. And his invitations paid off in more ways than one.
116
We were so naturally aggressive in our associations that he
probably figured it was a good idea to shift us around over the
countryside, to keep us constantly meeting new faces and in-
creasing the number of our friends, iu the hope that he might
carry us a ldng quite a ways without a "casualty" -sort of a
safety-in-numbers precaution. On these trips, he often lectured
us on what he termed "long-view behavior." He warned us to
be very careful not to form a visible attachment to a person
until we had learned something favorable about the person's
family backgl:ound; and never to allow a courtship to develop
tmtil after niany occasions for casual association. He worried
about "precocious affection"- when "love outraces good sense."
He said, "Every yonth must successfully climb Fool's Hill or
forever be hobbled with an invisible ball and chain the balance
of their lives." He explained that Fool's Hill was "the years of
adolescence when things are not always like they seem." And I
recall hearing him say once in a speech, "Infatuation is like
measles- both are catching by too close contact, and with com-
plications, either may prove fatal."
Now Mother was in full accord with his idea of inviting people
to our house. Food was never a problem, and she had plenty of
help for preparing it; also, she enjoyed company fully as much
as he did. A matter of a dozen or two extra didn't bother her
in the least. In the wintertinle, we could always have a taffy-
pulling bee; and in the summer we had watermelons by the
wagonload. After supper a sing around the organ was the choicest
thing of all. We had the first organ in the whole county. The
girls learned to play, and the rest of us loved to sing. We ob-
tained the very best ballads and church music from everywhere;
and after a few "sings," these ballads floated across many a
cornfield throughout the county, everyone catching on by ear.
Most of the early ballads were tear-j-erkers. I recall a few:
"The Ship That Never Returned."
"Put My Little Shoes Away."
''Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie."
"Sadie Rae."
"Kitty Wells."
"The Dread Sheriff's Sale."
"Sweet Genevieve."
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And forty more!
There were at least a score of the jingle variety. One went
like this, called the "Poor Married Man":
You may talk of the joys of the sweet honeymoon,
I agree they are nice while they last,
But in most every case they are over too soon,
And are numbered with the things of the past.
From his mother-in-law he gets nothing but jaw,
No matter how hard he may try,
She'll light into him at the least little whim,
And all of his ' wishes defy.
He's a fool and a brute, and nothing will suit,
His face is all haggard and wan;
He wishes he was dead, and then it could be said,
At rest, not a poor married man.
CHORUS
Oh, the racket and the muss,
And the trouble and the fuss,
With his face all haggard and wan-
yon can tell by his clothes wherever he goes,
That he is a poor married man.
Some of. these jingles were so funny that often newcomers would
stop singing right in the midclle of a verse and laugh for a while.
At these Sunday-night sings, 'after an hour or two, Mother
would quietly say, "Now, girls, let's sing that new hymn the
Bishop left with us last week." And so the type would naturally
switch to the church music. Some of the old hymns became very
popular in our community. A few of them were as follows:
"When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder"
"Rock of Ages"
"Throw Out the Lifeline"
"Jesus Lover of My Soul"
"Bringing in the Sheaves."
"Sunshine in My Soul"
118
(
We got the first Charles Wesley Hymn Book that came to Ran-
dolph County; and it contained about a hundred hymns which
became very popular.
Our girls were so good at all this music that actually delega-
tions came from thirty miles away to learn these hymns so that
they could gb back to their home churches and teach them to
their congregations. And, of course, they also carried back with
them the jingle variety and popular ballads, for the purely social
occasions in: their communities. On Sunday nights there were
seldom fewer than a score of young people at our house, and
often these things would last till after midnight.
Yancey figured that tlu-ough this general sort of social turn-
over we would have opportunity to search for "well-bred ac-
quaintances," from whom he hoped each one of us might select
bur life partner with assurance that our own progeny would
receive an enviable heritage from two fine family backgrounds
when we established homes of our own.
. Of course, the net result of all this was a great boon to our
girls. Literally scores of eligible young men swarmed around
our house. One Sunday night, by coincidence, three young men
came to "pay court" to Delia from different directions and from
considerable distances, arriving about the same time. The front
yard was full of company, and it was something to observe the
look on their faces when they realized their mutual predicament.
In their frustration; there were traces of disappointment, conster-
nation, double-cross, anger, jealousy, rivalry and chivalry. No
apologies were in order, for no one had said they were coming;
neither had anyone been specially invited. And, of course, the
tension was intensified by the yardful of company along with
the family; no less than forty had observed the mixup.
One of the young men just couldn't stand it any longer, and
he wheeled around, leaped on his horse, deciding that it was no
place for him to linger longer, and was about to dash ~';ay ~n
a mad race twenty miles back home when Mely- Delta s twm
sister- jumped out in front, grabbed his horse's rein and said,
"Hey, you! I'm Delia's twin sister. Won't I do?" .
Well, that broke the ice. Mely could always get away w1th
murder. Everybody laughed, and finally the young man laughed.
Just then Mother stepped forward and specially invited the
young rna~ to "get down now off yonr horse, come in and have
supper with ns, along with the other two young men, so we can
all get acquainted."
119
 .Then Delia stepped forward and also invited him to stay, along
With. the other two, who up to now not been so much in the
spotlight. Mother had trained the girls to "always overlook the
embarrassme~t of anyone. and to use special pains never to slight
your least desrrable guest m any group or display undue preference
for a m?r~ acceptable one, but to treat all with such an abundance
of_ cordiality that when they leave they will all be certain of one
thmg-that you are a lady."
I:ve heard my sisters in later years, when they had daughters of
their ~wn, stmggling to get this lesson over to them and now
the third generation is learnfug it. ' of spontaneity struck that part of the country almost suddenly
With the entire family co-operating in this way, with an over-
supply of Lotharios vying with each other for the heart and
hand _of my ~ve sisters, you can well ilnagine that I, a boy of
ten Wit~. nothing much to do, was fascinated by the devious and
competitive a~orous efforts of all those young blades paying ,
court to my sisters.
~ome came on horseback; some in phaetons, buckboards, carts;
whtle two ~r three walked .. Those who came with vehicles usually
took the gtrls out for a nde; and one who came on horseback
brought along another horse with a side saddle. And those who
walked just came to "set"!
The zeal of each one excited my admiration; and the tempo
seemed always to be on the increase. How little I knew then
the sort of dither I would find myself in some twenty years later
when I was a c_onfirmed old bachelor, immune, I thought, to
the ~arts of Cup~d . . . and suddenly, the miracle happened! I
had JUSt about gtven up all hope of ever finding her, and now
here she was . . . and I finally got her! But my, what a . circus
I mu~t have put on_! I hope no ?ne ever writes up that story.
But listen-:- and this may_ surpnse you- I am still courting
the sa~e gtrl after forty-six years, and feel something of the
same dither too!
And young husbands, keep on courting your sweetheart to
the end of t~e r~ad! It is the key to your life's happiness. And
remember this -If you forget me- that, potentially; the differ-
ence between a "hausfrau" and a "Princess" is the way she is
treated.
120
HOW MY SISTERS STARTED
UP HOUSEKEEPING
In our rw;a1 North Carolina during the "Gay Nineties," it was
naturally assumed that our girls would marry farmers; and when
I was about ten, three of them did.
Volumes have been written about the Gay Nineties, but nothing
even yet has ever done it justice. Unless you lived through it
yourself, you will never know what you missed. A strange sort
like an epidemic. Everybody seemed to get in an awful hurry,
just as if they all, at the same instant, caught the gleam of a
new day. The spell affected every stratum of society, from the
tycoons of the quick-rich to the farm hands of the back conn-
try. Human behavior became so spontaneous, so individualistic
and so generally outlandish that only after some years did Emily
Post succeed in teaching some semblance of "correct deportment
in human conduct." But in spite of all cultural inhibitions, every-
body seemed to have just one whale of a good time!
The Gay Nineties had some startling characteristics. A gold
toothpick for a gentleman was elegance at its height. Nearly
every well-dressed man wore a derby and a mustache, and sported
a walking cane and a loud-colored silk vest with a biscuit-sized
watch in one pocket and a chain swinging over to the opposite
pocket, with a key on it for winding the watch. Just about now,
though, stem-winding watches came in style, and those dashing
young blades able to afford this new innovation soon got to be
called "stem-winders" themselves. They also wore celluloid collars,
detachable cuffs, button shoes and, of all things, "spats"!
Well-dressed women had by now discarded the hoop skirts,
but the bustle was still going strong, l!long with trailing skirts
and high-buttoned shoes. Women vied with each other with their
long hairdos in high knots and low, plain and braided. Witl1
ten-inch hatpins, they pierced their two-story hats, holding their
hats in place.
These also were the days of the "hour-glass figure." Two girl&
often helped a third one dress- each with a foot on her hip,.
they gave the heave-ho on the corset strings, cinching the whale-
bone corset "down to twenty-three for sure," accentuating the
bulges above and below to prodigious proportions. And ... well,.
121
 this being the going concept of elegance, our buxom farm girls,
I assure you, in no wise came in second!
Delie was the first to get married. She married into a prominent
Quaker family in the Deep River commuuity. Her wedding was
a very elaborate affair. We boys counted one hundred and sixtyr
seven vehicles in our orchard- wagons, buggies, carts, buck-
boards and nine "surreys with fringes on top." We also counted
eighty-seven horses with saddles. Friends of both families came
-those invited and scores who were not invited. The crowd
was estimated at about seven huudred.
After the ceremony was over,. and before the crowd began
to disperse, Yancey with his loud voice announced that a long
table had been prepared in the orchard filled with sliced water-
melons, and it was now waiting for everybody. The day before,
we had hauled up three wagonloads of melons, and actually 100
had been sliced.
While the crowd was busy around the watermelon table, the
bride and groom hopped into their buggy and "got away"!
How well I remember how we outfitted our girls and helped
them get started up housekeeping on their new farms. They let
me ride on top of the first load of things we took over to Delia's
new house. After they had piled nearly everything imaginable
on the wagon, they threw a feather bed on top and then roped
the whole tiling down, so that nothing would blow off on the
way over. Then Winfred threw me up on top with such abandon
that if I hadn't by pure chance caught a rope, I would have
gone clear over, head first! And before I recovered from that
scare, the driver started up and the limbs of the old Buckingham
apple tree nearly raked me off.
Generally, some months before a marriage in those days, a
formal announcement of the engagement was made. Among re-
spectable people, the announcement was made not less than six
months prior to tl1e wedding. There was never a hurry-up wed-
ding- that style belonged strictly to trash; and even among trash,
there was seldom ever a "shotgun marriage."
When the announcement of Delia's engagement was made, the
women of the neighborhood began a series of quiltings in honor
of the bride-to-be; and just before the wedding, the close friends
Of the bride made her a "memory quilt." Each one pieced to-
gether a square, made of several old dresses, on which they
inscribed their names with silk thread. Then they met and sewed
122
these squares together, filled the quilt with "downy-feathers" and,
with a fitting ceremony, the finished memory quilt was presented
to the bride. This was usually the crowning part of what was
known as the "shower for the bride"- when a lot of eats were
served and a' lot of gossip exchanged.
The things: we carried over in the wagon were mostly what
Mother had assembled. The modern bride would not know what
to do with some of those things -like a carder, a butter mold,
a dasher and a churn, a candle mold, a spinning wheel and a
loom. Jams and jellies, preserves and canned fruits, dried beef,
hams and bacon, as well as all kinds of bedding, went along in
this load, with more loads to follow.
Now Yancey was never known to be outdone. He insisted
on delivering to the Hinshaw farm a sampling of all his live-
stock- blooded livestock, if you please- as well as at least a
dozen kinds of fowls, yes, and even honey bees. Delia didn't need
any of these things, for the Hinshaw family was "well fixed."
But Yancey overruled everybody, outtalked his new son-in-law
and rounded up and started quite a herd of "live things" cross-
country. It created a stir in the neighborhood; nobody else had
ever done such a thing. When Rube Brown saw the procession
coming, he said, "Move back fellers, here comes Esau"!
Yancey's 'idea of how to start up a happy home was to as-
semble every known live thing- blooded things, of course-
a Jersey cow about ready to have a calf, a hive of bees ready to
swarm, lambs coming every morning, goslings and chicks break-
ing out in bunches all over the place, and a lot of hungry farm
hands hurrying in to eat when they heard the farm dinner bell.
He couldn't rest till he had helped every girl, when she married,
with all these things as she started up housekeeping.
And now about everything was done except the "shivaree."
It was considered an essential part of the entire program, and
was never overlooked or neglected for, anyway, prominent peo-
ple. In fact, it was considered an honor; and of course the young
friends of the bride and groom looked forward to it with en-
thusiasm.
When Delia moved into their new home it was not quite com-
plete; and as nothing happened for the first six days, she figured
that it might be delayed till the house was finished; but the first
Sunday night, just after midnight, pandemonium broke loose. It
took Amos, her husband, completely by surprise. In his strictly
123
 Quaker neighborhood, such things as this, to say the least, were
not encouraged. Levity of any kind was kept on a very selective
basis; a smile now and then was considered proper. Even laugh-
ing out loud was sometimes frowned upon, but the shivaree,
with every known available device for making noise by fifty or
more happy young people right under his window, was mighty
strong medicine for him to swallow.
There must have been some other pillow talk, but Amos fin-
ally said, about the time they had made the sixth circle around
the house, "Delia, when are they expected to leave?"
Delia answered, "I doubt if they will leave at all until we
get up, invite them in and give them a feed."
She herself took no initiative in the matter, for she well un-
derstood by now that Amos was undisputed "head of the house,"
so she waited for him to make the move. He must have figured
they would eventually leave; and so he thought he would wait '
it out. But on their twelfth trip around the house- the noisiest
one yet- they then began working at the door locks and win-
dows as if to come in, for knowing that Amos was a Quaker,
they knew he wouldn't shoot, anyway.
Delia said, "I felt sorry for Amos, but I had helped with so
many shivarees myself, and helped embarrass so many young
couples, I figured I had it coming.
"But for him this was a strange new experience; and I was
certain he saw nothing in this sort of thing designed to honor
a newly married couple.
"By now, believe it or not, they had picked the lock on the
kitchen door, and they began coming through the kitchen in black
darkness. Something, of course, had to be done now- and in
.a hurry! I couldn't find the matches to light a candle; and Amos
couldn't fmd his breeches in the dark!
"The crowd squeezed in, sitting down on the floor, filling the
Jiving room and hallway- all sixty-seven of them...,... and began
singing 'The Poor Married Man.' Luckily, there were about seven
verses, and I dashed out to the kitchen in a hurry to rake to-
,gether the balance of our wedding cake, cookies and candies to
get them started eating as soon as possible, for fear they might
call for a speech or something from Amos. His response might
have been explosive. Fortunately, within ten minutes the leader
:stood up and graciously thanked us for our hospitality and pre-
.sented as with a fancy 'pull-down kerosene lamp' to be installed
124
over our parlor center table. They bade us good night and in-
voiced heaven's blessings on our new home as they all rose and
departed, singing 'Auld Lang Syne.'
"I could hardly wait to hear the first remark from my sedate
Quaker husb~nd for there was an ominous 'silence on'; and I
had learned that, generally, the longer the silence, the sharper
the comment. Some of his eventual comments were so caustic
they could take the hair clear off!
"The lights! out, and back in bed, still not a word was spoken
by either one of us. By now I feared 'disinheritance,' 'excom-
munication' or, possibly, a far worse thing-ETERNAL SI-
LENCE. The long clock ticked on for several minutes as my
fear of the impending outcome increased. Finally, he said, 'Well,
it was lucky I found my pants when I did.' "
HOW MOTHER GOT RESULTS
ON THE FARM
When a little woman 5'2" can rear a family of fourteen and
run a plantation on the side, she must have had some ~raits of
character worth looking into. While Yancey's overpowermg per-
sonality marshalled us like the Charge of the Light Brigade,
Mother's technique was quite the opposite- an.. indefinable in-
fluence on us like the force which enables the mushroom to push
up the highway macadam- power without the display of force!
She had the same influence on our hired help and, for that
matter on everyone else. Once they understood her wishes, they
displayed a loyalty which even surprised themselves. Old Negro
"A?
Sandy, too lazy to work for his own faJ?ily, used to say, s~o
duz sprise masef, wat all Ah can comphsh when Ah wuks fo Miz
Nanzy! Ah sho duz!"
Old Sandy, Harriet's husband, was part "French Creole"; his
hair was nearly straight. He had been a slave of the Waddells
at Waddell's Ferry; and when he came up to our neighborh~od
after the war, he cut quite a swath, they say, and_ fmally marned
Harriet, the choicest girl of the second generatiOn of our old
slaves; and they raised a large family of nine girls and one boy.
Harriet was Mother's standby in jnst any emergency, but old
Sandy was shiftless, lazy and deceitful. We could count on him,
125
 though for one thing-and that was to round up any number
of harvest hands we might need at any time and fetch them
down the lane under perfect control. But as soon as he spread
them out in the field, he slipped out and around and sort of
?ozed}nto Mother's kitch:n with hat in hand and politely asked
1f he mont hab a Ieete! b1te to et."
Mother knew he was not worth a nickel in the field so she
exploited his weakness for eating and let him do chore; around
~he house for her. One day she experimented with him on seeing
JUSt how much he could eat in a day. So she fixed him a special
lunch about every hour each time he finished a job. Finally,
about 4 o'clock, she gave him his seventh "mea~" which was
a big piece of ."yam-pota~o-cream pie" -yams already baked,
then sl!ced up hke shoestnngs, crossed and recrossed in a iwo-
inch-deep earthe~ware dish, then poured full of honey and pure
Jersey cream,_ With plenty of spices and nutmeg, covered with
a !ayer ?f thick egg batter and baked at about 350 degrees for
thirty mmutes. Now I can excuse nearly any variation from the
~ormal behavior when that delicacy is ready to serve, but here
IS what Old Sandy did. After he had eaten two pieces of this
deep-~ish pie,. he deftly slipped another piece, which he scooped
?ut w~th a b1g pot spoon, all dripping with cream and honey,
mto his hat-when he thought mother was not looking-and
then clapped his hat down tight on his head and started to go.
But Mother saw him do it- she always could see anything
through the back of her head- and she quickly engaged him
in a conversation, telling him what she wanted him to do for
her tomorrow. He used every device for trying to hurry on out,:
but she held his attention a fateful half-minute longer, when the '
cream and honey began dripping down his temples. . . . Then
he nearly broke down and cried, saying "Miz Nanzy, Gawd hab
merzy on dis sinful niggah! When Ah'm at yo house, I wish Ah
had two bellies; but when Ah get home, Ah wish Ah didn't hab
a belly!"
The next day Yancey chided him about trying to steal an
extra piece of pie.
He said,. "Mr. Yanzy, Ah am ashamed, but eb'n ef mah belly's
full, Ah's still hongry! Mis Nanzy had lots o' pie, and Ah had a
hongry belly, and Ah thot she looked the atha way; and Ah sho
think de Lawd did too, fo ef Ah'd been de Lawd, Ah sho would
126
ahv- an' Ah think de Lawd is jes as good a man as Ah am!"
One day in the middle of harvest, Mother detected a storm
approaching about 4 o'clock in the afternoon. She was unusually
good at forecasting, and living 250 miles from the ocean, it was
possible to detect an approaching storm sometimes four hours
in advance.
She called' me and said; "Get on your little yellow mustang
and cover tl1e fields and say to everybody 'Stay in the fields and
work like kiJiing snakes till Mother rings the bell!' A big storm
!
is coming- a whopper!"
When I got back, she had a basket of sandwiches ready, and
I lit out again, giving each hand a sandwich, then went back
again for another basketful, passing out forty-three in all. My
little pony was in a lather. By sundown, the harvest hands could
easily see that she had guessed right. The black clouds were roll-
ing up, and distant thunder could occasionally be heard. Just
before dark, I covered the fields again, this time with pre-cut
blackberry pie which had been chilled in the springhouse; and
I gave everyone a piece of pie, which took two more trips.
.Meantime, Mother had three colored women helping her in the
house, cooking a whaling snpper for the hired help.
Just about 11 o'clock, when the lighting and thunder were
.getting too. close for. comfort, Mother rang the dirmer bell. And
none too soon either, for here they all came, some on horse-
back, some on foot, rurming like crazy, and twenty-seven in one
wagon, with the horses at a gallop. They began simply falling
into the big porch, joshing and laughing till everybody got washed
up a bit, ready to surround the big table, which was full of roast
beef, roast mntton, corn on the cob, string beans, mashed pota-
toes and all kinds of vegetables. The table was extended to hold
fifty-two, and it was full.
There was a lot of joshing and horseplay during the supper,
and funny things were .told about their race to the barn to beat
the storm. The supper lasted a full hour. The rain and lightning
kept up, and the fun kept up too. Finally, when the main part
of the supper was over, the women brought out a big slice of
watermelon as dessert. When the melon was just about eaten,
Steuben stood up and suggested that all the menfolk wash the
faces of all the women with their watermelon rinds.
Then pandemonium broke loose for fair: Old Harriet, Mother's
127
 s~andby, jumped on Ste~ben, washed his face with her rind, got
him down and sat on him! In fact, most of the men fared just
about as bad!
Mother and the other women came out from the kitchen and
watched the fracas, and everybody laughed like children.
Then, when the storm continued with its fury Mother said
"Now it's. too late and too rough for any of yo~ to try to g~
home. tomght. I s~ggest you all go and sleep in the barn till
mornmg; and I will get you the biggest breakfast of ham and
'!ggs you ever sat down to- and more than that, an extra day's
pay too!"
And ne~t morning, she did it- slabs of ham on three big
platters, fned eggs on three more big platters -all everybody
could eat, with hot biscuits, coffee and more coffee!
WHEAT-THRASHIN' AND CORN-SHUCKIN'
Nowaday~ w~ see the wonders of the scientific age, such as our
astr~nauts circlmg the globe, walking in space and now planning
a tnp to the moon. But those living now probably can never
really know some _of the social wonders of the unscientific age,
as I g~ew up. Ne~~borly co-operation was probably the most
authentic _charactenstic of the nineteenth century; while now, in
~e twentieth century, the idea has probably reached an all-
time low. Before the Industrial Revolution wheat-thrashin' and
corn-shuckin' represented the acme of neighborliness and these
two activities gave expression to the spontaneous s~cial life of
the community.
Harvest time came in Jtme, and the bundles of wheat were
haule~ to the . barn to dry out thoroughly by the time the
thrashmg machme came by. The thrashing machine excited us
youngsters no end. It was about forty feet long, with a cylinder
at the front end for knocking out the grains, powered by a long
belt from a larg~ wheel, which in turn was powered by about
twenty horses. gomg. round and round, with a man standing in
the center seemg to It that every horse pulled his full share. The
bundles of wheat. were shoved into the cylinder, which knocked
out the wheat while the chaff and straw was blown out the rear
end. When the thing got going full speed, everybody sure had
128
to hurry around, sacking wheat, raking back the chaff and stack-
ing the straw. It was a dusty job, and the men wore bandanas
over their noses like bandits. What a thrill it was to see the
thrashing machine coming down the lane, followed by about
twenty neighbors with their pitchforks on their shoulders! When,
if ever, could a sight like that be seen again? Every neighbor
helped every iother neighbor in the whole community till every-
body's wheat was tluashed, never once bothering to figure if
he worked longer at another barn than someone worked at his
barn. The ..Jomen of the neighborhood followed tluough, also
helping each: other feed the men, bringing supplies as well as
helping cook. After it was all over everyone was happy, and
nobody had to hire any help.
There was a lot of horseplay each time they came to the
table. I recall watching two men vie with each other to see who
could eat a berry pie in sixty seconds with their hands tied
behind thern. What a picture- if we had owned a camera!
Corn-shuckin' time was probably the most fun. After the farm-
ers gathered their corn they piled it up in a row as high as your
head and sometimes five hundred feet long in their barnyard.
It was the happy custom in those days for the neighbors to
gather at each man's barnyard, spread themselves out along the
row and shuck their way tluough to the other side. A schedule
was worked out so that everybody came to one place at a time,
assembling about 1 o'clock, and figuring to get through by
sundown.
As they worked they swapped stories, told jokes and caught
up generally with the neighborhood gossip. Along toward sun-
down-and never before-the girls came in a drove to join
the men. When they arrived all work stopped for quite a while.
The girls' appearance was quite a happy spectacle, with their
bright-colored homemade dresses and cute checkered aprons.
They always brought along pitchers of cider, pink lemonade,
cooldes and candies, giggles, laughter and good cheer.
Now the appearance of the girls had quite an effect on the
entire operation . . . and "girls" -in this case, at least- meant
any lady from twelve to eighty, depending on her "disposition";
for anyone who came to join the men at the corn pile just as
the sun was going down came for fun, not just to shuck corn!
More than that, they knew, just as the men knew, that at a corn-
shuckin' it was an old and long established custom-::- and mu
129
 tually accepted, too- that if and when a girl shucked a red ear
the man sitting next had a right to. kiss her. Quite often, he
found to his dismay that, though he had a right, he didn't get
the privilege- and what a scuftle!
After the lemonade and a lot of chatter were over, everyone'
got down to the business of shucking corn. The men who had
brought along a stool or a chair were often fortunate in getting '
a cute little girl to use it, but it didn't always work. To make '
certain the plan would be the greatest success, a seating com-
mittee distributed the girls the whole length of the corn pile, '
and even redistributed them every thirty minutes, for some over-
industrious young blades had been discovered storing up a few
extra red ears of corn to slip deftly, one every ten minutes, in
front of the girl next to him. And the committee took special
. pains to place "a confirmed old maid" alongside a "weather-
beaten old bachelor"- just to see what would happen. And boy,
when she struck the frrst red ear of corn, pandemonium broke
loose, and everybody stopped work till the fun was over!
When the corn pile was finished, there was generally a lot of
horseplay in the barnyard in the semidarkness as they all started
down to the house for the big supper; some of them circled out .
through the orchard, arriving through the back door of the house. ,
There was a lot of hunahing around the well and the wash
basins, and the big porch was full of happy people.
Just before they were ready to sit down at the huge table, a
vote was taken- after a three-minute popularity campaign was
staged, which was a circus to watch- to select the "most popular
girl at the corn pile" to be the "QUEEN FOR THE SUPPER
HOUR." Then the four most popular men had to "bob for
apples" in a tub with a foot deep of water. The man first able
to bite an apple could sit by the queen and be master of cere-
monies during the supper hour. The apple-bobbing was another
"circus" to behold, possibly two hundred watching the per-
formance.
The supper was something! Twenty women had worked all
day getting it set up. The tables, four in a row, of forty-eight each,
sat down at one time. Just about every known kind of meat
and vegetable filled the long tables, huge platters of roast beef, '
roast mutton, fried chicken, roast turkey, and large platters of
baked potatoes, mashed potatoes, brown gravy, mashed turnips, .
baked yams, baked apples, five kinds of picldes and six kinds
130
1
of relishes, and apple cider and more apple cider.
1
During the supper there was a lot of horseplay, takeoffs on
certain "characters" in the group, some of it arranged for be-
1
forehand, SO!fle spontaneous. The supper lasted abont two hours,
and the fun! kept up until almost midnight.
Finally, everybody departed, with most of the young folks
taking the longest way home!
THE ANNUAL CAMPMEETINGS
One historian has called the nineteenth century the century of
1
neighborly co-operation. Wheat-thrashin' and corn-shuckin' ex-
emplified it to no small degree. But they were purely local affairs.
The "camp meetings" were even county-wide in scope, and were
1
community co-operations on a large scale. These co-operative
1
religious efforts flourished soon after the Revolutionary War, and
1
again after the Civil War. They were sometimes called "protracted
meetings," becanse sometimes after they got going too well to
terminate when planned, they were extended- or protracted. Gen-
erally, they were held between com-cultivating time and corn-
harvesting 'time, for a period of about six weeks, when the farm-
ers had the most leisure.
Each principal denomination usnally had its own camp meet-
ing, and a schedule was worked out so that, as one terminated,
another started up; and each denomination, in turn, assisted the
others. There' were in our neighborhood four principal denomina-
tions: the Quakers, the Methodists, the Baptists and the Christians.
The crowds were so immense at these camp meetings that the
churches couldn't accommodate them, so generally an arbor was
set up in front of the church, and the preachers used the church
steps for their platform. The arbors were made by throwing green
branches up on top of a scaffolding about eight feet high, with
slab benches for seats. Several hundred people attended; whole
families came for forty miles in their wagons and camped out
under the trees for a week- hence the name "camp meeting."
We helped with all the meetings; and, generally, we killed a
beef or two, several sheep and a bunch of chickens for each one.
Mother always planned for an extra dozen or so, wlio either came
131
without lunch or failed to be invited by somebody at the last
minute to eat with them. And every day, after the morning serv-
ice, she sent some of us b"ack up to the front of the church,
where those who had no lunch usually sort of hung back away
from the scores of tables scattered throughout the wooded camp
grounds, and we invited them down to our table.
We boys delighted to go on ahead a couple of days in each
instance to build our table- generally about twenty feet long
-between trees and to help erect the arbor. Probably as many
as fifty persons like us worked for two days getting everything
ready for the "opening" and the cleaning-out of the spring.
Mother's table was a sight to behold. For two days before-
hand, she and the girls cooked and prepared for the opening day.
They usually baked about twenty loaves of self-rising bread-
bread you could smell a hundred feet away. Roast beef and
roast mutton were baked up the day before- at least fifty pounds
of each; and probably as many as a dozen chickens were fried
to a golden brown in pure Jersey butter. At least a bushel of
yam potatoes was baked, an~ about two gallon_s of mashed pota-
toes were prepared, along With several other kinds of vegetables,
like squash, turnips, etc. We usually took along a "keg of pickles"
and a barrel of apple cider with a "spigof' -and boy, did that
go good1 The spring, in some cases, was four hundred yards
from the church. And, of course, there were dozens of custard,
berry and apple pies, cakes and cookies and homemade ginger
snaps!
A good deal of local preparation was made by each church
before the camp meeting actually opened- singil).g schools to
help the young folks learn a few n~w hynms; pra~e~ ~eetings
here and there in some of the pronunent homes; VISitations by
some of the Elders and Deacons to new families that had moved
into the neighborhood and to a few remaining "unattached" fam-
ilies. And, of course, there were special calls by the ministers.
When I was about ten, our camp meeting took on special sig-
nificance that year. Just before the meeting opened, news leaked
out that a prominent young man of a very proud family had be-
trayed a young girl of a rather new family in our neighboorhood.
The shock of it astounded the entire countryside, for both names
were known far and wide. Our minister was an old friend of the
first family, and he had been influential in helping the new fam-
ily decide on settling in our neighborhood. In fact, he was very
132
close to both families. And they say that when he heard about
it the day before the meetings opened, he went to the church
alone and prayed all night before the meetings opened at 11
o'clock nex;t morning.
An overflow crowd filled the arbor, and people stood under the
trees back ia hundred yards or more. As he preached he cried,
struggling at times to keep on talking, saying frequently, "I must
have failed you somehow in my effort to preach the true gospel,"
as if to take the entire blame on his shoulders.
Well, I t~ll you the entire gathering was melted in tears. Right
while he wtts still trying to finish his sermon, people began com-
ing forward for prayer. In some cases, whole families came to-
gether; old people, young people in droves, scores of strangers
from other communities flocked forward. The first five rows of
benches were filled with "mourners'.'; five of my brothers and
sisters were converted; and two of my brothers resolved from
that time to become ministers. The minister just stood there .and
cried!
Nobody had ever seen anything like it before. It was the turn-
ing point in the moral and spiritual life of the entire community.
After all the camp meetings were over in the community, a
great "baptizing" was arranged by all the churches: It was held
at Kemps' Mills on Richland Creek, about three nules from ~ur
house. The place was ideal; it was at the ford of the creek, With
a broad sandy bottom, where the water flow slows down after
making a huge bend in the channel. The ben~ of the. creek m~de
a large pool as big as a city block and provided. an 1d~al settmg
for such an occasion, where the spectators might sit on _the
circular banks and see and hear perfectly. The crowd was Im-
mense and the banks for two hundred yards were full of peo-
ple; h~ndreds came early, for it was the cr?wning ~eremony f~r
all the neighborhood churches taking part m the six-weeks re!J-
gious effort. .
Those taking part in the ceremony gathered first at the null
house, wher.e they changed clothing, put on their robes of pure
white- like choir robes- and then all slowly marched down
to the ford of the creek. At the creek edge, on the white sand,
a host of friends of those to be baptized had gathered. Mely, my
sister, was there with our reed organ to play for th.e hymns. Old
John Cagle, our faithful choir leader for thirty years, led the
singing of three hynms- one of which was, "Shall We Ga~per
133
at the River"; another was, "Day Is Dying in the West"; and
the other was, "Nearer My God to Thee." The music carried
over the water with the most remarkable acoustics; one could even
hear a whisper a block away. After the hymns, one of the min-
isters said a short prayer.
Then our minister, who was a big man, assisted by two other
ministers, started moving slowly out into the water to where it
was about waist deep, followed by a line of those who were
to be baptized. The sandy bottom was smooth, and no one stum-
bled or made a false move. When our minister reached the right
spot, he firmly held the folded hands of the person first to be
baptized with his left hand; and, placing his right hand back of
the shoulders, said loudly and distinctly, calling the participant
by his full name, "I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and
of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost," gently lowering the person
backward and down tmder the water, then up again. One of the
assisting ministers then helped the person baptized to start mov-
ing back slowly toward the organ on the beach, while the other
minister assisted the next person into place.
There were sixty-seven in all, and it took about twenty min-
utes, for it was done slowly and with great dignity. Nobody made
a misstep or a fumble in any way. And not another voice was
heard, nor a whisper, as the crowd sat spellbound through the
entire ceremony.
When all were baptized, the ministers slowly led the way back
to the Mill House again, and the huge crowd, just as slowly and
as quietly, melted away. Scarcely a word was spoken by any-
body as they left this beautiful spot while the sun was sinking
in the treetops.
Nothing else could have been more fitting as a climax to this
annual camp-meeting time; and all the people now returning
to their homes carried with them, no doubt, a keener resolve
to be true to the heavenly vision.
IF I HADN'T SEEN IT I WOULDN'T
BELIEVE IT
As I reflect on the background of seventy years ago- and
particularly the setting, way down in the sticks, where I grew
134
up- I really doubt if you will be able to believe these stories.
You may think I am fabricating them out of whole cloth, but
I assure you I am not telling it as badly as it really was.
You have your movies, television, telephone, radio; your
myriads of magazines, newspapers with sports pages and fun-
nies; yom auto or motor bike takes you to the rodeo, the fairs,
the circuseS, the ball parks, the state parks and the mountains;
and your jets carry you at the speed of sound even to another
continent within a few hours. If it could be measured, you can
enjoy more "thrills" in a day than we had in a decade. Yet when
I observe some young people today who appear so satiated with
opulence that they display no symptom of thrill in living, I am
inclined to believe that Nature probably favored us a bit more,
due to our greater hunger for excitement.
We were growing boys, just as you are, full of curiosity and
mischief, craving excitement every waking hour, with nothing
much else to have it with except dogs, cats, wild game and our
animals on the farm. One source of great enjoyment was the
old swimmin' hole on our farm, with tlu:ee acres of red ripe
watermelons alongside. Hardly a week passed without a "cock-
fight" arranged with neighbor boys. And before we got "stock
law" in our state, when everybody's stock ran at large, we sel-
dom failed, at least once a week, to set up a "bullfight" with
some prowling stray bull which had invaded our domain. We
fetched out one of our bulls, formed a circle around them and
watched the fun. If there seemed to be a let-up in the. fury, partic-
ularly if the stray appeared to "plead for time," we sort of cleared
up that problem with a jab with. a pitchfork. This sometimes
tlu:ew the visiting bull offguard, which gave our bull a chance
to bypass the other bull's horns and gore him in the ribs. Once,
when that happened, they both rushed toward me so fast that
all I could do was to jump straight up in the air; and believe
it or not, both bulls went under me as their backbones spun
me like a dervish; and when I hit the ground, running, I relin-
quished the pitchfork to anybody who wanted . it, glad enough
that I survived such a close call. And by now the stray bull was
also glad he had survived such a close call, resolving never again
to show up at our plantation as long as he lived . . . and he
too broke away from the scene, running as I did!
We had a lot of fun with rams. When rams fight, they both
back away about twenty feet and then run their heads together
135
 at full speed. You'd wonder how they could endure this head-on
collision even more than once; but with a little prodding on our
part, I have known two rams to run together like that nineteen
times before either one gave up. Billy goats put a lot of style into
their fights. They stand up to each other at close quarters, rear
up full height and come down simultaneously, their heads col-
liding just as their front feet hit the ground. I've seeu two billy
goats keep this up through twenty-seven slams before either one
developed "sick-headache." And if a neighbor's tomcat ever visited
our barn, every boy and every one of our dogs ransacked the
buildings until that cat "paid the price of illegal trespass."
Of comse, we gloried in giving every trespassing animal a bad
time, but if things got too dull, especially on a Sunday afternoon,
we picked on some of our own livestock on which we held . a
grudge. A typical case was a mean old scrub cow Yancey had
to take in on a bad debt. She had horns, and actually she could
use those horns in lifting off a rail at a time on our pasture fence
until she could easily step over it right into the cornfield, con-
sequently making sinners out of the rest of the herd. We nearly
exhausted our ingenuity trying to devise a way to make a "lady"
out of her, but she refused to reform. We sawed off one of her
horns and chained her left front foot to her other horn, and
still she could "lay down a fence" and walk in. One Sunday,
when we had some cousins visiting us from town, we tied a
half-dozen tin cans to her tail and drove her through a bumble-
bees' nest. She ran so far we had to go after her with the horses!
Finally, we traded her to a lightning-rod salestuan for rods to
go on the barn; and we laughed about how good a deal we had
made until, about a month afterwards, the lightning struck our
barn and killed seven hogs. So maybe, after all, the salesman
came out ahead!
We had the most fun with our horses. We had all kinds; two
pairs were dependable for Roman-style racing, and we startled
our neighbors nearly to death with some of our trick-riding ex-
plaits as we were passing by their houses. We experimented with
the mean ones- the buckers and the balkers- to learn how
to "cure" them of their devihnent. Most of them were as hope-
less as the old mean cow. The greatest ally we had as we "rassled"
these mean critters was our big Percheron draft horse- actually
a descendant. of the Percheron stud colt our first Harmon had
brought down the greater wagon road from Philadelphia one hun-
136
dred and forty years before. We .hitched up these mean balkers
with this big Percheron- "Rondo," we called him- and he ac-
tually seemed to enjoy the fracas as much as we did. When the
balker refused to move, old Rondo just dragged him along
anyway, while we boys were literally burning the balker up with
every device we could thing of. Once, when a bucker was doing
his stuff, arid right while we were blistering him with every barrel
stave we could lay on him, Old Rondo grabbed the bucker's
neck with a deep bite and shook him like a rag. The editor of
the county' paper saw it happen and wrote an article about it
being the 'only account of one horse "helping to train another
horse" that had ever been known. Old Rondo is remembered
I even by the third generation of the Yancey tribe as the grandest
famHy horse of all time!
I still laugh about most of the crazy things we did, but our
slaughtering wild game in those days gives me some recoil. ~e
needlessly killed too much, and too many, of nearly everything
we hunted. Game was plentiful, and there were no game laws,
aud we apparently had no thought or concern if some species
should become extinct. I can ouly explain it by our natural zest
to "overdo everything we undertook"; and now that I am not a
boy any longer, I am ashamed of it. .
A case in point is the following story. And !he famrly h~s
razzed me about this for seventy years, a few trmes on pubhc
occasions. When I was eight years old, Mother and I were walk-
ing down toward the old spring when suddenly we looked up
and saw a huge WHOOPING CRANE coming up the creek, flying
about two hundred feet high, a rare species now nearly extinct.
By then all the harvest hands in the fields had spied it also. Every-
body stopped work and gaw~ed at the ~usual sight of an im-
mense crane like the one Wmfred had killed the week before,
which measured eighty-nine inches from tip to tip. He flew
with such grace and dignity, his long legs sticking back like
fish poles his neck like a big crooked "S," his fifteen-inch beak
pointing first one way and then another, as if to assure each
group of workers in the field that he had seen ~?em. Everyone
was entranced; and while there was a lot of yelling and shout-
ing in the field as he first came into view, by now not a word
was spoken as the great white crane m?ved on upstream look-
ing for our big swimming hole for a smtable landing place.
137
 Suddenly, Winfred yelled to me from the big field across the
creek, "Cap, grab a gun and go after him." And boy, did I
streak it! I watched the crane as I ran to be sure of where he landed
dashed into the house and, by George, not a gun was loaded! And
here was a whooping crane itchin' to be killed! Well, I grabbed one
of the double barrels, poured in a double charge of powder in
each barrel, tamped it down with a wad of paper with a ramrod
- and, of all things, the shot box was empty! What to do? What
to do? But here was a keg of nails; so I dropped a handful of
ten-penny nails into each barrel, tamped them down with some
wadding, set a percussion cap on each powder tube, let down
the hammers . . . and away I went!
Now every eye was on me as the hands watched me from
the field, never guessing that I had had to load my gun before
leaving the house. As I reached the swimming hole, I cocked
both hammers and slipped up to the bank, peeping over the
tall grass, ready to fire; when, all of a sudden, a big bullfrog
jumped out from under my feet with an awful noise. In my excite-
ment, I must have pniied both triggers, for both barrels went
off, the gun flew up in my face, mashed my nose and nearly
knocked me down. In my bewilderment, I tried to figure out
what had happened. I didn't see the crane anywhere. In fact,
all I saw in the water were two eyes and a leg of the bullfrog
come floating down. I must have sent forty ten-penny nails
through that frog just as he hit the water!
Well, I was so ashamed of myself that I sneaked back down
the creek behind the willows and slipped home, where Mother
and I had a very understanding conversation about the whole
matter.
Soon the dinner bell rang. About thirty harvest hands came in,
and I had to tell the whole story to them. Here was the greatest
opportunity of my lifetime- the chance to kill a whooping
crane; and instead, all I could show for my one grand chance
to become a hero was no more than a bullfrog and a bloody
nose!
This is the first time I have told this story since it happened;
I didn't need to, for my folks have told it for me- or on me
-ever since, and sometimes in public.
They say that when my gun went off, the crane rose gently
from the upper end of the swimming hole and, with great dignity,
flew on upstream with his beak at an angle, looking back over
138
his. shoulder as if also to appreciate more fully the joke on me!
During our adolescent years, I dare say we have all been
guilty of "showing off" before our young Mends, if and when au
ideal occasion arose. I recall several things I did in my adolescent
years, whicli I shall certainly not recite here. This story is typical
of the pranks we pulled off in the days when our sisters had
so many boy friends around.
Without doubt, there was an undercurrent of resentment among
us boys toward t11e dashing young blades constantly swarming
round our house; and their "oblique look" at us as they came
and went indicated that the feeling was mutual. And any discon-
certing prank we could conjure up gave us a sense of genuine
pleasure.
Steuben was at the exact age when he had no hesitation at
including the girls along with their boy friends in his resentment
of everything that approaclled romantic behavior; and, conse-
quently, some of his pranks needed to be censored.
One Sunday afternoon, when Yancey was away and Mother
had gone to a neighbor's house to help a baby come into the
world, Steuben decided that he just had to show off to some
cousins from town who were spending the week end with us
on the plantation. And the double reason for the excitement was
that the girls were entertaining their boy friends in the parlor.
The Sunday afternoon had dragged on for three hours, with not
much excitement for teen-age boys; and Steuben just couldn't
stand it any longer.
With the help of the two cousins, he caught two of our biggest
tomcats- the two that had been quarreling every night till all
'hours, so jealous of each other that some of their quarrels ended
up in a fight. He tied their tails together and hung them over
the clothesline.
Well, without any warning to anybody pandemonium broke
loose! The houseful of company, and the girls with their beaux in
the parlor, all came rushing out in consternation to see what in
the world was going on. It was plain that Steuben was back of
the whole thing, and everybody began stol'llling at him to "put
a stop to this atrocious thing"! The boys from town looked sort
of innocent; and Winfred, the oldest of the group, now began
to get tl1e brunt of the fury. Steuben had slid out and hidden be-
hind the grindstone, but by now the girls were coming after him
with sticks; and without showing any response to their demand
139
 ~hat. he "put a stop to it," he even showed that he was enjoy-
rug 1t.
~ely got a bright thought, ran to the kitchen for a big butcher
kmfe a~d ~gured she could_ rush up and cut the string holding
the ca~s tails together; but 1f you know much about a cat fight,
you Will understand there were several reasons why she failed in
her efforts.
She must have still figured her idea was a good one if some-
one with more courage than she would try it, and she shoved
the knife. into Winfred's hand. By now he was regretful of the
whole thing: so he n:mde a good old college try, did get a little
closer, but JUSt had to back away. Then he yelled for a string ,
and fishpole and struggled to lash the knife handle to the pole
using up a few more fateful seconds of precious time. Meantime:
our seventeen foxhounds were going crazy, ev.ery one yelping and
trying its best to climb a seven-foot board fence to get to the
cat fi~t. And on~ of the town boys said later that the geese
and gumeas were m spasms of chattering as loud as they could;
and all seven peacocks were yelling, "Pank-Aw! Pank-Aw! Pank-
Aw!" Almost as shrill as a fire siren!
And then, as Winfred's fishpole idea fizzled out and the knife
fell off the pole, everybody seemed to intensify, if possible, the
clamor and wild screaming for "somebody to put a stop to this
awful thing," as the cats were kicking the balance of their fur
off each other! Nobody had a new thought on how to stop it;
and Steuben hadn't even turned a hand to try to do it! Pan-
demonium was on- and it looked like it was going to stay on!
Louie looked up, and happened to see Mother coming down
the lane, and she yelled, "LOOK! YONDER COMES MOTHER
DOWN THE LANE! LORD HAVE MERCY ON US!"
What to do? What to do? And QUICK! Something had just
better be done before she reached the gate!
.Now Steuben went into action! Like a flash ' he dashed out
With a shotgun and blasted off both their tails.
'
Well, of course, the cats vanished like lightning; and nearly
everybody else disappeared ahuost as quick- for just who would
want the task of answering the questions Mother might ask?
The girls' fellers left through the back orchard; and we boys hit
the hayloft; the "company" didn't dare bring up the subject;
and the girls busied themselves with housework. Mother came in
140
tired, in no frame of mind to start asking questions about good
news or bad.
Every person of the entire twenty-seven present chose, by a
freak coincidence, to keep the episode in the shadows. No one
was ever 1quite sure, but it was generally thought that because
Steuben, ~o everyone's amazement, had saved the situation at
the last minute from calamity, he was never "told on"; and for-
tunately also for everybody else, the full story of the "clothes-
line cat fight" did not become common knowledge until, it was
assumed, ~he statute of limitations had expired.
!
1
NOW THIS WAS MY DAY
The day I was born, my brother Arthur pulled off a prank
which has caused many a laugh through the years. He was a giant
of a young man at twenty, selling fruit trees through the county
through the summer time while earning some extra money to
go to college. He was planning to be a minister. In several con-
tests through the county, he was considered the strongest and
most agile of any of the contestants. He was brimming with good
humor, full of pranks, and everybody loved him.
At noontime the day I was born, there was considerable excite-
ment among the farm hands, for it was noised around that I
was soon expected to arrive. After lunch the hands sort of hung
around in the barnyards for a while awaiting developments. There
was a big water hole in the barn hog lot, where about forty
hogs liked to wallow in tl1e middle of the day when it was hot
Arthur, a little more excited about my coming, made a crack
and said, "If it's a boy, I'll bet a new silver dollar against a pig
whistle that I can jump that hole of water clear!"
About a dozen of the men piped up and gave him the laugh
and kidded him for such a reckless bet as that; and one of them
said, "Why, yon couldn't do it, even if it's twin boys!" With a little
time on their hands, they kept up the razzing, and another added,
"Art, you'd better just withdraw that wild bet, for it just might
be a boy."
Arthur by now was getting sort of fed up with these snide
remarks, and felt more and more determined at least to regain
his standing with the crowd.
141
 Just then, Old Harriet, Mother's standby colored woman, rushed
out the front door, yelling at the very top of her voice, "Glory
to God! Glory to God! HAL-LEEEEE-LUUUUU-YAH! HE'S
HEAH! AN HE'S A MAN-CHILD!"
Then she reached for the bell rope and rang the big dinner
bell for a full minute, hollering like a man in a fox race with
every breath she took. They say she hollered fifteen times with-
out stopping while she rang the bell. All over the plantation
everyone knew what it meant; and some of them stopped every-
thing and danced a jig. . mind in the least if even two or three came on the same night-
And now the farm hands in the barnyard took up the chant,
"Art, you can't do it! Art, you can't do it!"
Well, he backed away about thirty feet, and here he cam~!
Unluckily, his foot slipped in the mud, and he landed on hts
back, about the middle of the nasty water . . . and then they
all doubled their jeering as he was getting on his feet, everybody
simply dying with laughter- in fact, overdoing it a bit!
Now Arthur said, "Well, if one falling into that hog-wallow
makes it that funny, let's see if some more of you falling in makes
it still funnier!"
And before they could climb the fence, he had "baptized"
seven of them!
WE ALL FELT LIKE THE LORD
HAD PASSED BY
Living as we did ten miles from the first little village of five
hundred, and fifty miles from Greensboro, another little larger
village, feeling the cultural influence of neither, getting a four-
page weekly newspaper, our only printed contact with the out-
side world, you can imagine our hunger to have any stranger,
of any kind, from anywhere, come by to tell us anything about
any subject of interest to human beings.
Yancey, of course, realized this better than we knew, for he
took pains to contact leaders in business, politics and religion,
traveling bishops and circuit riders, urging them to make our
plantation their headquarters while in tl1e _county. In addit~on
to these, he even let it be known far and wtde that all travelmg
142
salesmen would be welcome to spend one night at our place
as they covered the countryside. This produced a stream of all
kinds of outside persons with a variety of interests, from whom
we gleaned a vast store of current knowledge.
Incidentally one tangible benefit was the "innovations" we
generally /)ought from the traveling salesmen who came through,
like the first Singer sewing machine, the first reed organ from
the organ peddler, a lot of "patent medicine," and, of course,
the first lightning rods in the county. Mother never seemed. to
for one reason, maybe, because she was so glad if Yancey made
a purchase. We thought the thing which thrilled her most was
the new kitchen range; and what pleased the girls niost was the
reed org\ln. And probably what pleased Yancey most was the
reputation he developed for buying the first of anything that
came along.
One of the outstanding evenings we long remembered was when
the Methodist bishop came by. It caught Mother a little by sur-
prise, for we expected him the following night. We always had
plenty of food but a few hours' notice always helped when the
preacher came by. He arrived about 6 o'clock; and they say that,
of all people, preachers like a chicken dinner better than anyone
else. But even at that late hour, Mother managed to have a big
chicken platter ready to pass around by 7.
While Yancey was showing off his blooded stock to the bishop
out at the barn, we boys were getting in a11 extra box of pine
knots to keep up a roaring fire in the parlor fireplace, and clean-
ing the kerosene lamp chinmey, trimming the wicks and making
ready to listen to everything the bishop had to tell us after supper.
Mother always got out the flax tablecloth and starched napkins
when the preachers came; and always before supper, she ran
us through what she called the "wringer"- which meant scrub-
bing om ears and getting us into clean clothes before we a~! sat
down to the table. And if any one of us ever took a chtcken
breast, instead of a wing, as the platter passed by, we got a
kick on the shin!
The supper over, we all circled the parlor fireplace to listen
to the bishop. Yancey sort of drew him out a bit to make cer-
tain he would cover a wide range of subjects and locations. He
and the bishop did all of the talking; we were trained never to
peep unless spoken to. Before the bishop got started, though,
143
he asked if our girls would play the organ and sing. This made
them feel their importance; and without doubt, the bishop was
greatly impressed, for he asked if Mely would play the organ
for him at the next baptizing.
He started out by telling us about a trip he had made through
the Holy Land, the Sea of Galilee, the pyramids, the ruins of the
Roman Empire and the Colosseum, where the early Christians
were devoured by the lions and wild beasts for the entertainment
of Nero and his friends. Some of these stories we had never heard
before, and he could tell them so that one could almost feel he
had actually seen these places with his very own eyes. Time went
by so fast; and before we knew it, the big old long clock struck
E-L-E-V-E-N!
Yancey brought out the Bible- one about seven-inches thick,
with Biblical pictures in it, and with large print. He laid it down
on the center table under the pull-down kerosene lamp. The
bishop read a psalm which starts out: "As the hart panteth
after the water-brook, so panteth my soul after Thee, 0 God."
Then we all knelt as the bishop prayed. We expected a long
prayer, but really it was a short one; however, it sure covered
the waterfront. He prayed for the world, the rulers of all nations,
for onr country and the President, for North Carolina and the
governor, for Yancey and Nancy, and for each one of us chil-
dren- a sentence prayer for each; and when he came on down
to me, this is what he said: "And may he thirst for God as he
thirsts for knowledge." This was the first time I had ever heard
anyone talk to God about me, and I never forgot it- or what
he said, either.
After his prayer, he told us how his ancestors had escaped
religious persecution in Bavaria, way back in 1599, finally reach-
ing Holland, where they found other refugees from England called
Separatists, and others from France called Hngnenots, eventually
getting passage to the New World with a group of Moravians,
who settled in the Yadkin Valley near what is now Winston-
Salem. His story sounded so much like the escape of the Lowder-
milks from Bavaria- Mother's ancestors- that we all stayed up
till midnight. . not only how to slaughter but how to do it wholesale.
Then, as if to change the subject, he looked over at me and
said, "Well, can you play the organ too?"
And I said, "Yes, with one finger."
"What can you play?"
144
I said, "I can play 'Jesus, Lover of My Soul.'"
Then he said, "Let me tell you how that hymn came to be
. written. On<( day, when Charles Wesley was worldng in his room,
a little sparrow flew through the open window as it was nearly
caught by ai hawk, and it hid under his coat in his bosom. Wesley
was so imptessed that he picked up his pen and wrote the words
to this hymn, which became famous all over the world."
When he had finished this story of the song, Yancey stood up
and thanked the bishop for a wonderful evening of information
and inspiration; and as they were exchanging remarks about
when he might be. coming by again, we all quietly melted away
to bed, with scarcely a word spoken by anybody.
All the next day and evening after the bishop left, the entire
family seemed to have a faraway look, as one has after funeral
service or a solemn patriotic ceremony.
Norvia, my little sister, said to Mother the next day, "Ma,
I still feel like. the Lord has just passed by."
BUTCHERING ON THE FARM
Here's a story I'd much rather tell you than try to write.
I could do it much better by talldng-and there may still be
some danger the S.P.C.A. would get after me if I write it!
In this industrialized society, people have so lost contact with
the good earth; where plants and animals grow, that when they
pick up their groceries in the supermarket they scarcely give a
thought to the persons who produced them or how the steaks
got into the freezer. They forget that vegetables have to be planted
and cultivated, and that animals have to be slaughtered- by
'I'
I people!
'I On the farm "Life is real and life is earnest." There can be
no backing away from reality. On the farm, we faced reality
I daily and did what had to be done as it came up, without wasting
any time for choices in the matter. We learned at an early age
When I was about ten, Mother learned late one Saturday after-
noon that she would have to help with a big dinner on Sunday
at a camp meeting. The men folks were out, and she called to
145

me and said, "Cap, [that was my nickname] hurry up and kill
a dozen chickens just as quick as you can."
Well, I never wasted any time when Mother wanted some-
thing done, so I poured a quart of shelled corn down a long
trough, aimed my shotgun down the groove and fired! I shot off
thirteen heads, and never touched another chicken- a baker's
dozen. Those that were killed never knew what happened, and
those that got away were not quite sme what happened, but they
soon figmed they had made it! I got the desired number and
had the job done withing ten minutes.
By the time I was twelve, I had gotten proficient in killing
hogs. When we butchered hogs, we generally killed twenty or
more at a time. This was done by stepping down into the pen,
tapping the hog in the center of the forehead with an axe and
then cutting his jugular vein by a quick jab with a long knife
blade under his throat. After a few times, I became expert, so
that with only one tap with the axe, and a quick jab, the job was
finished - all within about five seconds fiat.
Once when Yancey came by home, he decided to stay over an
extra day and kill hogs. I asked him to let me do the killing. He
didn't know I had gotten good at it, so he stormed out and said,
"Oh, get out of the way, there's no time now for you to learn
the. trick!"
. I said, "I aheady know the trick.... "
He said, "What trick?"
And I answered, "Bleecling a hog with one jab, without even
getting blood on the knife blade."
"Well," he said, "if you're that good, jump in there and lciii
till you miss." And I fixed twenty without a single "miss!"
My stock went up considerably that day with Yancey.
Now I'll bet you have already wondered how we got the hair
off. Really, it was a cinch. Naturally, before we began knock-
ing hogs down, we made preparations for the balance of the
.operation- the scalding, drawing and quartering. We sank two
big barrels on a slant down halfway into the ground to hold the
scalding water. We filled two twenty-gallon iron pots with water,
built a roaring fire under them, with several rocks as big as
your head lying in the fire. When the water got boiling, we
poured it into the barrels and held the red-hot rocks in readiness
to drop into the barrels a little later for. keeping the water at
a boiling temperatme. Then we dragged the hogs up, and two
146
l
I\
I
strong men shoved them down, rolled theni twice, pulied them
out, turned them aroimd and shoved the other end down, rolled
them twice,, then pulled them out and onto the boards, where
three or foilr of ns jumped on them with wide scraping knives
for pushing! off the hair. Just like that! And within about four
minutes, the hog was as clean as a sheet of paper- even his
eyelashes and hooves came off. Then we hung him up for draw-
ing and quartering and curing in the smokehouse.
Through 1 the sununer, with a lot of hired help around, we
generally killed a beef a week, and maybe a few sheep. Now, one
Friday afternoon the men had planned to kill a beef, but a
neighbor's threshing machine had turned over in the ford of a
creek and every man had gone to help get it on wheels again.
Mother needed to pay off some harvest hands with fresh meat,
il so she called me and said, "Cap, do you suppose you and I could
!I kill that little two-year-old steer?"
Well, this was my chance to take charge of the slaughtering
business at the Yancey Cox Plantation for the day, so I quickly
said, "Sure we can!"
I had knocked down a few steers before, and thought I was
pretty sme of myself.
Well, I. put a ring in the steer's nose, a sack over his head,
and led him to the slaughtering platform, calling Mother to watch
me show off. I held the rope in my left hand, picked up a small
axe with a short handle, and aimed to tap the steer in the center
of his forehead and then stick him- just like that! But my plans
.! didn't work out quite 'right. With the sack over his head, I struck
where I thought the right spot was, but it just wasn't the right
spot! Well, the steer went nuts! Bawling like a crazy thing, run-
'I ning backwards about thirty feet, he bumped into an apple tree;
'
then he must have figured the "Yahoes" were coming after him
I
from the rear, so he lunged forward about ten feet, ran straight
over me, bawling in my ear like a foghorn, whirling roun? and
round; and every time I had half a chance, I whopped him on
/, the head, as near the right spot as I could, with my little axe.
\j
Part of the time, I was on my feet; part of the time, I was on
,II'I
my back, glancing up at a melee of hooves glancing off my
II carcass and ripping off my clothes; and part of the time, he
!~
was dragging me till I could get back on my feet again. With
the sack on his head, he couldn't tell what he was doing, and I
couldn't tell what I was doing, but I kept right on striking at
147
I,
j
 the_ ~ital spot, hopin' and a-hopin', and he kept on leaping, .
w!llrlmg and bawling, while I held on and kept slamming him.
Fmally, I tapped him at the vital spot and dropped him.
After I double-checked to be certain he was not deceiving me
I looked np to see where we were by now. Actually, we had
come only about fifty yards; but I was so out of breath it seemed
we had traveled six miles. ' dearly we paid for it if a "scrub bull" broke through into our
Then I looke~ up again: and there stood Mother, bending up
and down, slappmg her thighs and laughing till she could hardly
stand ~P Between her spasms of laughter, she finally said, "Well,
Cap, I m sure proud that you held on to the rope and finally
finished the job!"
All I could think of to be proud about was that the steer
hadn't stepped in the middle of my stomach!
HERITAGE RESPONSIBILITY
As we grew up on our plantation, not a day passed without
our being impressed with the absolute necessity of maintaining
a "shict heritage" in our livestock, in our fowls, in our grain
and in our orchard.
. We had a. family or~hard of about sixty acres of nearly every
kmd and vanety of frmt and grapes. Yancey did a lot of grafting
and budding. To impress us with the importance of "tme heritage,"
he would graft a scrub variety onto a pure strain of peach or
apple. For example, he grafted a scrub twig onto a pure strain
~f an Elberta peach tree. When the fruit matured from the .grafted
limb, no one would even have picked the fruit if it had been
the last peach of the season. It was a sad picture of a "cross-
breed with a scrub variety."
Th~ very choicest seed corn and wheat were planted, which we
solll:et1mes p~rchased_ from afar and at a high price. The purest
stram of frmt-tree slips was obtained, regardless of cost. About
the only time we were "reckless" with money was when we were
buying something to plant. It was an investment- and jnst who
would want to make a poor one?
Yancey prided himself on his honey bees. We had at one time
one hundred and thirty-seven hives. I recall he once purchased
a "queen" from England. She was a beauty, about twice as long
148
as the ordinary bee queen, golden brown and stately. Within two
years, our honey production doubled. We had honey by the
barrel. She yost a fabulous price, and some of our neighbors
thought Yancey was foolish; but he knew that our bees needed
a "pure-blooded strain" to bring them up in results. I recall it
took her over three months to come across from London. How
pasture of Jerseys. In one instance, Yancey allowed a heifer
of the scrub 1 variety to matnre, just to impress us with the pity
of the fateful mating. The heifer of "scrub ancestry" produced at
her best only three qnarts of milk, while her half-sister, of pure
strain, produced nine quarts.
Natnre simply will not permit us to "gather grapes from thorns,
nor figs from thistles"!
It is an accepted scientific fact among all intelligent people the
world over that heritage is pre-eminently important in the realm
of all the products of earth. And no one in the business of grow-
ing fruit, produce, poultry, grain or livestock would think of
short-changing himself by ignoring the importance of "good
breeding."
How much more, then, is the significance of this principle in
the propagation of the human race?
A few years ago, dnring a family reunion, I overheard a group
of old neighbors talking about how our family was brought up.
Some of the comments were amusing. One old man said, "I think
the theory Yancey worked on was to keep his children so busy
they simply had no time to get into mischief." Another said,
"Ye~, and he kept them scared to death of nothin' short of 'mur-
der' if they ever did get into trouble." An old Quaker lady re-
marked, "Yes, some people thought he was a tyrant in his home,
but he was so imbued with the necessity of raising what he called
a 'blooded family' that he can be excused for applying his rigid
formula."
Then the conversation tnrned to comments on Mother. One
man said, "Nancy consistently took her children to chnrch and
Sunday school and instilled in them veneration for God Almighty."
Another said, "Yes, and veneration for Nancy Cox, too."
After several more remarks, the old Quaker lady again spoke
up and said, "Now let me tell you something. One day I asked
Nancy herself to tell me the secret of her remarkable control over
her children, and how she managed tluough the years to raise
149
 fheni to ,~dulthood with su~h succ_ess. And this was Nancy's own
answer, 'Yhy, the first thing I did, even before they were born
- I cormmtted each one of them to the Lord."
In dis~iplin~, Yancey used vehemence - thtillder and lighining!
Mother JUst looked at us"- looked through us! She expected
so much of us that the least variation from the straight and
narrow ~harned us to deatlt Just one look from Mother, and
e~ery evil thought and desire in us vanished. But when she looked
With approval, we felt the angels with us till the job was finished.
I feel her_ ~ursuant benediction following me to this day.
In my opilliOn, the glory of the family unit reached its zenith
around the middle .of the nineteenth century. The "family" was
a sort of self-contailled school where life's prinmry lessons were
l7arned. It was a basic kind of church where the fundamentals of
ng!Iteousness and morality were taught and practiced. It was
also a sort of factory where the bare necessities of pioneer life
were custol1!--made, ingeniously contrived and wrought by every
member taking part. And it was the basic pattern for the health-
ful association of all its members in wholesome recreation and
sinlple pleasures.
From this sort of family circle, one could move out, even
~t an erul~ age if need be, and take his place of responsibility
ill any society, not only with the feeling of self-respect but with
confidence in his own ability to do his full share.
The family in those days was a close-knit unit. It behaved
~~ost like a person; it had control of its members; it had pride
ill Its background and pride in its future. And woe unto the
"?Ia~k sheep," the. ''wayward" and the ''recalcitrant"! Their pro-
digality was short-lived, for by common consent they got a "ride
on a rail" or were "tarred and feathered"- and maybe received
a "double dose of castor oil"! ' '
The Industrial Revolution changed all this. It scattered the
fa~ily to the fom corners of th(l earth. There is now much less
illllt-contr_ol and very much less self-control, with a consequent
d~generation of personal integrity- every man for himself-
With less and less thought of appreciation of family heritage and
hardly any sec_ond thought of responsibility for one's own progeny.
I'!- our family, as we grew up, everyone took great pride in
adding lustre to the family tiadition. It was absolutely foreign
to our natiue to do an evil. deed or think an evil thought which
might cloud our family escutcheon.
150
Yancey had convinced us of the inlportance of a long line
of unbroken tradition of "good breeding" in plant life, fowls and
animals; and )le impressed us with the exceedingly greater ini-
portance of this principle as it applies to human beings.
Yancey lived a whole generation before Mendel, the great ',,l,i
'i',,
world scientist. He, of course, never heard of Mendel, yet he
laid down the fundamental principle of the indispensability of
"good breeding" forty years before Mendel did, and proved it
in North Carolina during his lifetinle. Mendel came along later
and became world-famous, proving to the world the same thing:
"That good blood is more precious than mbies; and that good
breeding is the only hope for obtaining it."
In my research of the Cox ancestry, I have been amazed at
the good judgment used by the men in our background in the
selection of their life partilers. Good blood has come into our
family stream- blood as good as onrs -Irish blood, German
blood, Holland-Dutch blood, each time from families with a back-
ground of prideful history.
How I wish I could have learned more about the family history
of the "redheaded Irish girl with blue eyes and hair to her knees''
who became the second wife of my first American forebear! All
we know is that she had such strong convictions of her own that
she resisted "coercion," and by her perseverance and ingenuity
she eventually reached Holland and, finally, America- and
FREEDOM! Neither could we learn any "more than that" about
her niece- also Irish, with red hair- who fought her way to
Holland and to America, and became the wife of my first North
Carolina forebear.
The first "Irish girl" produced a first-born son, Harmon, who
refused to live in a colony where "nonresistance" was the policy,
believing that self-preservation was a two-way street, and migrated
to the North Carolina colony with his wife-the other "Irish
girl"- who loyally supported hini there in his courageous
struggle, helping win our American independence. Her progeny
have endeavored to exemplify these virtues clear down through
Yancey to the present day.
151
 THE BIG FOX HUNT
Fo:c hunting was without doubt the tops among sportsmen in
the mne~eenth centur7. England led all other nations in this sport.
The L01 ds and Ladies planned much of their recreation around
!he ".chase," as they called it, or "riding to the hounds." Fence-
JUmpmg ~as quite a part of the chase, and that phase of the
hunt provided a lot of after-dinner conversation. .
They planned to meet- those specially invited by a Lord
and Lady- at their. castle not sooner than 10 in the morning,
keep up. the chase till dusk, then assemble for dinner at. 8 and
after that .came .wine and dancing. They talked about "five 'fields
to the fimsh, with four fences to jump," and to "scare out as
many foxes as possible in the hope of at least twelve kills."
.The Lords ~nd Ladies wore top hats- "stovepipe hats"-
ta?ored long bnght r~d coats and white knee-breeches, high boots
With spurs, and earned a crop or a tnunpet. The "aides" were
also nearly as well groomed, except, of course, they didn't wear
the "top hat."
In the very early days of colonial times in America when the
Lords Proprietors and Colonial Governors were much i~ evidence
there. was so~e semblance of the English style of fox-lumtin~
here m Amen?~; but in North Carolina, where I grew up, our
style was as different as black and white.
In our county the foxes were wild- not "bred in fox pens and
released for the chase," but so wild that it was difficult even
to get one up or to outsmart him on the run. The hunt wasn't
started on a certain day or hour, or by invitation, but was started
~nly. when a fox ~~uld be rous:ed out. Furthermore, planning for
a dinner at eight would be Silly, for we were lucky to sit down
at a table, after the race started, for maybe a couple of days.
!nstead of "five fields to the finish, with four fences, to jump,"
It was more a dozen circles and zigzags through woods and
swampy tl~cket.s, covering maybe forty miles and lasting twenty-
four t? thirty-six hours. Instead of stovepipe hats, we pulled on
any kmd of hat that would fit tight- and maybe even then we
lost it before we got home.
There was a saying in North Carolina about foxes, especially
the red fox and the gray fox "Light as a feather and tough as
leather!" These two kinds seemed to be the smartest, and they
152
weighed only about five pounds- but smart and though, oh, my!
Yancey considered all kinds of hunting wonderful, but he clas-
sified fox ljunting as "MARVELOUS"! He generally planned
most of his: other hunting; but his fox-hunting seemed to be a
sort of "involuntary response"- when he just couldn't help but
go. I recall i one night when Old Joler- our prize fox hound:-
struck a hOt "trail" about midnight. Yancey heard him "peal
forth" through the open window; and it two seconds, his heels
hit the floor; and in two more seconds, Winfred and Steuben
were pulling on their breeches; and within five minutes, they had
all left the; barn on horses heading for Purgatory Mountain-
hardly time to issue invitations for the "chase."
I should have added that when they all jumped out of bed,
Mother was up, cramming dried beef and dried peaches into the
boys' pockets, for sometimes they would stay with the hounds
all night and a day without anything to eat except maybe some
haws and wild fox-grapes they'd find in the woods.
This "involuntary propulsion" which seized Yancey may have
been due to the fact that foxes were "temperamental." They sim-
ply couldn't be found at times. They seemed to "hibernate" or
"leave the county for a spell"; or, as Rube Brown used to say,
"Quit stinkin' for a week." Old Joler was even crazier about fox-
hunting than Yancey, and he even went out nights alone; and if
he succeeded in raising one, the whole countryside knew about
it mighty quick.
So when Old Joler spoke up and said, "Let's get going!", it
simply was too much for Yancey; for even if he had made busi-
ness plans for the next day, it was expecting too much of Yancey
to think of less important matters than fox-hunting.
For some years, Yancey had a circle of friends in four coun-
ties who were also crazy about fox-hunting. They were men of
means, and could afford to stop everything now and then and
enjoy the sport together. The most noted of these men was old
Jim Barker, of Guilford County, who made a trip annually to
our plantation, planning to stay a whole month, if necessary,
in his big covered wagon packed full of supplies, bringing along
his prize seven fox hounds and two men to help.
On one occasion, he came down all steamed up; and as he
stepped out of his wagon, he said, "Yancey, if I don't get a fox
on this trip, I think I'll simply go nuts."
Well, before he left, he nearly did; for we went hunting seven
153
 nights in a row, about six hours each night- and not a "strike"!
The seventh night, we got in about 1 A.M. all worn out and was
he disgusted! He was so mad he even started packing up to
lea~e next morning when, all at once, we heard Old Joler
sn:1ke . . . way over on Purgatory Mountain! He was fully three
miles away, but you could hear his sonorous voice round and
strong like the whistle of an ocean liner. And bdy, when he
Bpoke, did it mean something!
Old Jim Barker yelled like a boy, grabbed his double-barrel
shotgun and fired both barrel, calling to Yancey, "Old Jo/er has
struck!" He didn't need to shoot, for Yancey had also heard
Joler, and he had his breeches on when he came out the door.
The boys by now were pulling on their breeches in the dark.
:Winfred got. on Steuben's, and Steuben pulled on Winfred's, but
It was no lime now to change. Mother crammed their pockets
full of dried beef and biscuits as they went out the door and she
said they were all out of the house and gone within two' minutes!
Just as iliey left the barn with their horses, Yancey gave orders,
as follows:
"Winfred, you go to Panther Rock on the south side of Pur-
gatory Mountain, where we lost a race twice before. And Steuben
you go to the big 'sinlmon tree on the old Mat Woodell home:
stead on Richland Creek, where we lost a race last month; and
the rest of you do the best you can to stay with tl1e dogs or within
sound of the dogs. And as old John Hancock says, 'Foller and
l10ller!' "
The fox, after circling the mountain, struck Steuben first. When
he figured iliey were heading his way, he climbed tl1e big 'sinl-
mon tree, so he could scan the area better; and he soon saw ilie
fox coming down a cow path by a little stream, going past him
and out of sight. The hounds were about a mile behind; and when
he figured he would not see ilie fox again, and was about to come
down, here came the fox right back up the cow path! It stopped
and then jumped way out over the little stream landing in the
water. It drank a little, ilien started tripping along iu ilie stream
in the edge of the water, up about a hundred feet to where
another little branch came in from the other side, then up the
little branch, still rnnning in the water; and up about two hundred
feet it came out on the bank, licked its front feet and sat there
about five seconds as the dogs came down the cow path not two
hundred and fifty feet away; then it ran leisurely up the hill as
154
the dogs- about twenty-seven of iliem- poured down the cow
path on a straight run nearly a half-mile, when they struck a
"quandary." I
Everything' had gone well till now; then confusion- and iliey
began to rnn circles, some of iliem running back up the cow
path as far as ilie 'simmon tree, then back again. This kept up
for nearly an hour; and when Steuben got worried ilia! the scent
might get too "cold" before they caught on to what had hap-
pened, he climbed down and started over to where the fox licked
its feet, figuring to call ilie hounds and set iliem on the trail
again. But just then, to his delight, Old J oler sounded off about
a mile away; he had struck the trail hot, and now every hound
went for Joler, yelping every breath of the way.
It sounded as if Old Joler had taken up the baton, mrned
the page and begun directing a new phase of ilie symphony.
The melodious beauty of ilie hounds' voices now resounding in
full fortissinlo soon became fainter and fainter, in a beautiful
diminuendo, as they circled the top of the mountain.
About this time, Yancey came by nine of us wiili a basket
of sandwiches as we were wondering where we should move
next. He rushed us across country about three miles, for he said,
"The race is now headed toward Winfred on Panther Rock, and
will come down the souili side of the mountain and down Panther
Creek."
We had a rough time making the run-nine of us on three
horses; generally, two rode and the others straggled along, inter-
changing now and then. Yancey gave us orders like a general in
the army to help us get to strategic "crossings," as he called
them, so we could maybe get a glimpse of the fox and hear
the music of ilie hounds better.
The area of the whole race was about ten miles square, cover-
ing all of Panther Creek, about eight miles of Richland Creek,
and two small mountains, Purgatory and Haddock mountains_
Part of it was open woods, but some of it was rough going.
Winfred till now had missed most of the music, but he soon
saw two foxes coming down ilie mountainside; one was wob-
bling, as if nearly worn out, while the other looked fresh- and
was bobtailed. Just as they were within two hundred yards, the
tired fox jumped up on some grape vines and scrambled up about
twenty feet into an old squirrel nest, while the fresh fox tripped
along and out of sight.
155
 The hounds were about a mile behind; and pretty soon they
pas~ed on by him, never making a bobble. At last, he was
gettmg the full volume of the music as twenty-seven hounds
sped past him. We had reached a spot where Yancey had told
us to go, and sure enough the fox must have missed us by less
than a quarter of a mile, for soon all twenty-seven hounds came
by us in a string, one right behind the other; and for us, this
was the finest music of the entire race.
Yancey had gone home to fetch out the last six of our hounds.
He always figured to bring out a few fresh hounds when the
race was about two-thirds over. And he had left word for us
to race to another spot near Haddock Mountain after they passed
us at this point. Old John Hancock liked everything about fox-
hunting except riding a horse; and the strange thing about him
was that he loved to hang on to the tail of Old Rondo while
trying to keep up with us on horses. Now that we were out of
the woods and on the road again, in a rush to cover about two
miles fast, he caught on to Old Rondo's tail as we rode a gallop.
We struck several mudholes as we went, but he hung on and
~tayed on his feet. He was a sight to see when we stopped, laugh-
mg as always and boasting that he must have been taking steps
twenty feet long.
By the time we got to the spot where we expected the fox
would cross the road, the race had mysteriously slowed down to
only a few yelps here and there, as if the dogs had lost the trail.
We were now down in the sheep country around Haddock Moun-
tain; and when Yancey had brought us sandwiches the last time
~e had told us, how a fox sometimes runs into a drove of sheep:
JUmps on ones back and completely fools the dogs. We were
now beginning to wonder if that was what had happened. We
hadn't heard Old Joler for an hour.
Yancey soon came with his buckboard full of hounds, fresh
and ready for the final hours of the race. Instead of turning the
fresh hounds out, we all waited around for an hour for develop-
ments. He had brought another basket of sandwiches- and boy,
how we were ready for them! It was past midnight now, and we
rolled around on the ground, trying to get a little rest. In the
meantime, old Jim Barker had gotten lost from the crowd; and
when we heard him hollering about a mile back, Steuben went
for him with a horse. When he arrived, he reminded us that "we
were at it now for twenty-four hours; and from the way things
156
look now, we're no closer to the fox than we were at the outset."
But we gave him a big sandwich, which, he claimed, "just about
saved my life;'; just at that instant, we all heard Old Joler "strike
off" a full mile away. In no time, the other hounds were with
him, and the !race was on again.
It soon appeared they were circling Haddock Mountain, com-
ing out toward Richland Creek across the road to Kemps Mills.
It was now getting daylight, and Yancey told us to hurry to a spot
a mile down the road at the corner of the Dempsey Bean pasture.
Again John Hancock took his chances holding on to Rondo's
tail . . . and made it! Just as we got there, the fox must have
missed us by less than a quarter of a mile, for the hounds came
by us again in a stream not futy yards away. Right while some
of us were trying our level best to enjoy the beauty of the music,
Old John Hancock and Jim Barker both were hollering in our
ears with every breath they took, just like crazy! Then, as the
dogs went past, we all lit out again down the side road toward
the reed thicket on Richland Creek, for it was evident now that
the fox was struggling to get there before he was overtaken
by the dogs.
Yancey had turned the fresh hounds in, and they were now
joined up with the main pack; altogether, more than thirty-four
hounds were in the race. He had also moved farther down the
road; and about the time we were on our horses, ready for the
next dash, Yancey about a mile away cut loose, calling the hounds
as no other human being could! For a half-minute, you couldn't
hear the hounds for Yancey! The fox had run within fifty feet
of Yancey, and he was trying to give the hounds the advantage
of a shortcut; and it did probably save the race! For even as it
was, the dogs caught the old bobtail only about five hundred
yards short of the reed thicket!
When we heard Yancey blow the horn, we knew it was all
over. The race had lasted thirty-one hours. And were we a tired
bunch of hunters! Except for Mother's sandwiches, we never
could have made it. '
We got Old Joler and six other worn-out dogs into the buck-
board- and were they glad for a ride home! Within an hour, all
the dogs straggled home except one, which came in five hours
later with a broken leg.
Just as we reached home, Winfred came in from his stand on
Purgatory Mountain and told us about seeing a tired fox move
157
out of the race and climb into a squirrel nest, while a fresh fox
took over. Nobody believed the story but Yancey; and as tired
as we were, we hopped on some fresh horses and followed Win-
fred to the spot. Sure enough, when Steuben shook the fox out
of the grape-vine nest, it fell to the ground as stiff as a board-
so stiff it couldn't run; which proved a legend to be true- that
a fox will sometiines slip out of a race while another one takes
over.
When we all got back home, Mother had a breakfast ready
fit for a king. As soon as we could put the hounds away, bathe
their feet in turpentine, feed them corn pone and bed them down
in heavy blankets, we washed up a bit and lit in on great plat-
ters of ham and eggs, hot biscuits, honey, butter and jam, coffee
with cream . . . and coffee and more coffee!
Then we all dragged off in different directions to catch some
sleep; some of us went to the hayloft. Old Jim Barker crawled
into his covered wagon; and as soon as Yancey mended the
broken leg of the hound which had just hobbled in, he too went
to bed. Everybody was tired but happy!
FOX-HUNT AFTERMATH-THE DOG TRIAL
About three hours after everybody had dragged off, after the
big breakfast was over, and gone to sleep somewhere, one of
the strangest things happened. Four of Yancey's neighbors came
down the lane at a gallop, rushed up first to Jiin Barker's covered
wagon, and two of them, at the same time, began railing, "Who-
ever's in this wagon, come out of there and commence killing
your dogs- or we will!"
There was a lot of other talk mixed in with it which I shall
not try to repeat here.
Now old Jim Barker was not an easy choice for anybody to
try to bluff. For the first minute or so, he hadn't quite caught
on to what the four madmen were mad about; and without any
diplomatic effort on his part, he was by now just as mad as they
were-and getting much more dangerous! He had taken the
initiative, talking back to them so loud and so fast they didn't
have a chance to get in a word edgewise- calling them names
that wouldn't look good in print, either.
158
This strange commotion in the orchard roused up all of us
in the barn, and Yancey came out down through the orchard
in his nightshirt. Even after we all reached the wagon, Old Jiin
was still in !ugh key, beginning to try to tell Yancey what they
had said wlllch had made him "so dang mad"!
Without dqubt, it was the proper time for Yancey to speak
up; and he said, "Now, neighbors, it looks like you have gone
off half-cocked; and I suggest you start fresh and tell your com-
plaint like ge)ltlemen to gentlemen- before I go off half-cocked!"
Then one bf them said in a moderate voice, "Yancey, three of
our sheep have been killed. Your fox race went through our
pastures last night, and we heard dogs for three hours all in one
place- right where we found the dead sheep this morning; a~d
we think your dogs did it. We came to demand that you kill
your dogs."
Yancey replied, "Without a trial, you have condemned both
us and the dogs! Just how long would you want me for a judge
in Randolph County if I followed your practice? Now, when
dogs kill a sheep, wool sticks in their teeth for a week or ten
days. We will examine the mouths of every one of our hounds,
and if we find wool in their teeth we'll kill them. Will you agree
to do the same if we find wool in your dogs' teeth?"
And they just couldn't help but agree!
Then the dog trial started! The mouth of every one of ~ur
hounds was examined- and not a sign of. wool. Then old J1m
insisted that his dogs also be examined- and not a sign of wool.
By now the neighbor men were far from shouting at anybody,
but were sort of muttering among themselves, while Yancey an?
the rest of us were getting on our breeches, ready to go to therr
farms to finish up the "trial." And within ten minutes, every
one of our fox-race crowd- even the neighbors who slept for
a while in our barn- went too. Twelve horses in all went gallop-
ing up the lane. But while Yancey was coming, ~nd. we were
getting the horses saddled, Old Jiin cut loose agam m a lou,d
voice-not only at the four men, but apparently for everybody s
benefit as well as for his own pleasure- with quite an oration
about "how lowdown it was for any intelligent person to even
insinuate that a trained fox hound, especially belonging to Yancey
Cox would stoop to kill an innocent sheep," etc. And he even
went up the road in a gallop, still continuing his peroration.
Now we all knew that about thirty-four dogs did cover the
159
 sheep pa~ture area, and. that they milled around there for three
hours while we feared the race was about lost; and we did have
some. q~alms that their story might be true. But we also knew
that If It were true, the dogs who had wool in their teeth would
have to be exterminated- and quick, before any others should
be_ tempted. For there is no record of a sheep-killing dog ever
bemg broken of the habit.
When we got to their farm and examined their dogs all five
not only had wool in their teeth but were so bloated ~ith mut-
ton they could hardly walk.
Well, if that ~ragedy wasn't a comedy I never heard of one!
I thought Old Jim Barker would go nuts! He simply went into
spasms of laughter! He held his stomach; he rolled on the ground
he gro~ned as if for "relief" as he tried to recover from th~
spell. ~mally, when he. could talk again, he said, "Well, Yancey,
now I ve se~n everythzng! I'm ready after this experience to go
back to Guilford County and die! Har, har, har- he, he, he,
ooooo!"
Then we. all galloped back home, joking and laughing all the
way. Old Jim was still laughing in spasms, at times so hard we
actually fea_red he might fall off the horse. Mother had guessed
about the time of our retmn and had the doggondest supper on
the table you ever saw. She knew we were all starving again by
now, for after a fox hunt like that it seemed to take about three
d~ys of eating to catch up again. The neighbors who had gone
With us on the race then tried to leave for home but Mother
finally induced them to stay for supper. We all wa~hed up a bit
and took our places at the table. This time she had roast beef
roast mutton, a platter of fried chicken, stling beans, mashed
potatoes, sliced cucumbers, sliced tomatoes, hot biscuits and hot
cornbread, butter, blackberry jam, coffee . . . and more coffee.
The first twen~ minutes, everybody acted starved, and there
was n?t much talkmg; but by now, after the second cup of coffee,
Old Jim began to get steamed up a bit and struted in' telling
about "how danged disgusted I was two nights ago after seven
d~ys faili_ng to raise a fox I wowd have sold my hounds for a
mckel apiece; but as I was crawling into bed I heard Old Joler
'strike', and from then on I wouldn't take t~n grand for either
one of J:?Y seven!" Steuben told about watching the fox fool the
dogs while he sat high up in the big persimmon tree; and while
he was up there, he cut six inches off Winfred's long breeches!
160
Then Winfred said, "Yes, Steuben left first, and all I could
find in the dark was a pair of Steuben's breeches; and when I
first jumped on my horse at the barn I bmsted the heck out of
them- and that didn't help much either while sitting on Panther
Rock for the! next seven hams!"
Then old ~ohn Hancock cut loose, telling about how he had
held on to old Rondo's tail on a two-mile run toward Kemps Mills,
and said, "It sure looked like the 'finish'- and I didn't want
to be left behind, so I grabbed old Rondo's tail; and I swan,
I hit every rimdhole and I must have been takin' steps twenty
feet long!"
Then Yancey cut in with his story of how, just before the finish,
"the fox nearly ran over me"; and this started old Jim off again
in a spasm of laughing as he said, "When I heard Yancey call-
ing the dogs, that's when I lost my hat. Har, har, har- ugh!
And now to hear Yancey say, 'The fox nearly ran over me,'
simply throws me into spasms of laughter over which I hain't
got no control. Har, har, har- oh, har, har! Oh, my belly!"
Of course, everybody else was by now laughing fit to kill.
Finally, when old Jim regained at least part of his composure,
he said, "Yancey, I've had more 'flips' during the last thirty-six
hours than all the rest of my life. The value of my hounds went
up from an: all-time low of a nickel, to ten grand apiece; instead
of getting one fox, we got TWO! All our hounds were accused
of high treason, but the accuser's own dogs got the firing squad!
Har, har, har- and I tell you this is the climax of all the happy
experiences of my whole life. I salute you, Yancey, as the best
fox hunter in four counties, and your seventeen fox hounds-
Old J oler in particwar- your boys and your neighbors, and
you, Nancy Cox, for your sandwiches you sent us in the woods
and your unexcelled hospitality and co-operation with this bunch
of fox hunters in your home."
INDIVIDUAL INITIATIVE ABOVE
EVERYTHING ELSE
The memory of Yancey Cox lives on and on in the state of
North Carolina and, of course, intimately in the minds of his
161
progeny},, Many of us have talked about it through the years;
an.d ~rom a score of virtues, which I have described already, one
pnnc1pal legacy we each feel most greatly. indebted to him for
was his own peculiar brand of teaching.
He didn't rely on "words" or on "rule thumb," or "rules in
a book," or even "how he would do it himself." His method
was: First, to interest yourself in something, develop your in-
terest into action, then guide your action into the accomplish-
ment of something you had never before thought you could do.
Actually, it was teaching initiative!
In his pedagogy of learning by doing he demonstrated this
principle over and over again. The bumblebee fights were an
example- gettin!? us interested and committed to a challenging
propositiOn, leadmg us along with an incentive- a new silver
dollar, the plaudits of the harvest hands, and, of course, his own
esteem. By tllis scheme, he educed from us efforts out of propor-
tion to the hope of reward. What he was after was not so much
to get the bumblebees killed, but to watch the development of
our personality-INITIATIVE!
During those days on the plantation, he so impressed us with
this fundamental method of teaching that it became the finest
asset we had with which to start life, the most effective tool we
ever possessed not only while we were teachers in school, and
as we tutored our own offspring, but in later life as we handled
our own public. The two brother preachers used the principle
amazingly, enlisting timid souls in the "service of the Lord."
Some others of us got heroic results from those under our charge
in war service and as leaders in the business world later on-
the art and science of getting persons to accomplish something
they had never dreamed of doing before! Inspiring people to
translate their own dreams into action.
Being the youngest, as I grew up I was aided in a. hundred
ways by my brothers and sisters, and I wish I could tell some of
these stories. But my oldest brother- whose nickname was
"Coey"- by using the Yancey method helped me do some-
thing I feared I never could do- forever banislling the "fear"
of what most of us are afraid of- mere human beings! I will
tell you how he did it. . . .
It was my privilege to live in his home while I attended the
Asheville High School. Lois was the baby; then Helen came.
Coey was in the music business, and he traded a piano for a
162
Jersey milk cow. I milked, churned and helped with the babies
for my room and board.
Until.the~, my wo.rld on the plantation had been pretty small.
But dunng my stay m Asheville, I bloomed out! His wife Gracie
was quite a imusician, and she helped me hear the choicest music,
and see sev~ral of the operas and plays in the civic auditorium.
I reveled in the public library among the great books I had
ahya:J;s dreamed of reading. I frequented the art museum. The
pamtings Of Rembrandt, Michelangelo, and Da Vinci fascinated
me beyond 1 words. The only "art" I had been able to see was
the reproduction in the big old seven-inch-thick fanlily Bible; but
now, for the first time, I could view some of the world's finest in
color, and life-size, too. Here I began to dream of being some-
body and worth something in the world.
T~is was in the "odd" days, when debating societies really
fiounshed. It was soon after the William Jennings Bryan era of
platform eloquence. Actually, aronnd the turn of the century,
there were really only a few forms of public amusement- or
private amusement, either. Only the very rich had an automobile.
In fact, it was seldom we ever saw one on the street. Radios
had not been dreamed of; and the phone was quite a luxury-
of the wall type, and with nothing but a "party line," at least
sixteen listening in on every conversation. The ball park was
just coming into popularity, and ball games were mostly of
the "sand-lot" variety. Schools were just beginning to compete
with each other, and only on Saturdays. When we had a ball
game down at Riverside Park, we either rode the little bouncing
twenty-foot-long streetcar called the "Jitney Bus" there and back
for a nickel or walked, singing as we walked the song just be-
ginning to be famous, "Take Me Out to the Ball Game." Ad-
mission to the game was only a quarter. Football was also just
beginning to take effect among the smaller schools, but with ouly
slight competitive spirit. Actually, nothing up to this time stirred
up a student body like a good old-fashioned hot debate.
Coey had distinguished himself as a public speaker and de-
bater in college, and he encouraged me to get interested in a
debating society. It was entirely new to me. I had done some
pnblic speaking and won a gold medal. Luckily, I met a young
law student who was simply nuts about debating. He induced
me to join his debating society, and he and I joined up in three
local contests, easily winning each time.
163
 Just about now, at a public gathering at the auditorium, two
law students, both from prominent Asheville. families, took the
brazen opportunity to challenge any other two young men in
the audience to a joint debate at the end of sixty days; bragging
that if their challenge was not accepted they would claim them-
selves champions of Asheville.
My partner and I were not sitting together; but when he heard
their boastful challenge, he jumped to his feet and said, "I accept
your challenge, provided my friend Cox will agree!" He called
out to me to speak up if I agreed. I did speak up.
And this is what I said, "Sure! We will not only accept their
challenge but we will debate them on any subject, take either
side, and still beat them!"
Well, that was just what the audience needed; and we got a
whale of a hand. These two young men were well known and
very popular among the younger set; while we hadn't been heard
of before. But in spite of that, the audience seemed about equally
divided in their applause. The press was there, soon getting our
names and a few facts, ready for a write-up in the papers the
next day.
You are amazed, I am sure, that world news in 1910 was so
scant and uninteresting that a debate challenge and an audacious
acceptance like this could create such commotion in the city of
Asheville that both daily newspapers ran front-page main columns
about it. And the next afternoon, sure enough the papers blew
us up big, each paper taking opposite sides apparently by agree-
ment, to make the affair more interesting.
The subject for debate was chosen by our opponents: "Capital
Punishment"- they taking the affirmative. Our high-school body
also seemed about equally divided as we accepted the negative
side of the question. The other two men had both popularity and
brass; all we had was just plain brass. But for the next sixty days,
fully half the news articles commended our initial reaction; and
our boosters supplied the papers with a lot of stuff about the two
of us, some of it pure fiction, which kept the pot boiling right
up to the last evening edition before the BIG NIGHT!
When Coey came home Friday night and learned what I had
gotten myself into, he laughed till he could hardly stand up. But
before he slept that night, he wrote out ten pages of my speech,
which I memorized the following week. The next Friday night,
he wrote fifteen more pages, and I memorized that; then each
164
week end he and I took a long walk up Grove Park Mountain,
and I stood on a big rock and made the leaves quiver for a
half-mile all around. He tutored me in the fine art of debating,
and my confidence increased steadily as we approached the big
event. I
My only worry was: Could I lay it on the line as he had
written it out for me? My colleague had gone over his speech
with me, and I felt certain he would hold up his end of the
fight. But !We were going up against the smartest chaps in the
business, and we were running scared; yet we kept our nerve
steady. And this alone kept our supporters endeared to us clear
to the end.
The final night arrived. The judges had been selected, which
greatly enhanced the occasion- the governor, the mayor and the
chief justice of the state Supreme Court.
The auditorium was filled to overflowing, and the tension was
at a high pitch. Each faction soon began its yells; and the crowd
seemed about equally divided in their loyalty. We had the idea
that there was more highbrow dignity on their side; but, no doubt
about it, our side was making the most noise.
And now the fight was on- they affirming that capital pun-
ishment was right and proper, we contending that it was wrong
and improper. The actual debate lasted ninety minutes; then the
judges retired for the longest sixty seconds I ever counted. And
when the verdict came in ... WE HAD WON!
Then pandemonium broke loose for fair. Our side went nuts!
By then each half of the audience had become so partisan that
htmdreds on each side demonstrated with almost the same zeal
that our close friends exhibited. For a few minutes, the audi-
torium looked like a political convention. They carried us on
their shoulders up one aisle and down the other; and hundreds
on our side joined in a lot of goosestep horseplay . . . and we
didn't get home till M-O,R-N-1-N-G! The grin on Coey's face
was a mile wide!
The next evening, after we read the newspaper reports of the
affair, brother Coey said to me, "Now, Cap, in the stream of
life, try to avoid the eddies; get out in the main current- and
always swim upstream!"
Ever since that big night, mere humans have never frightened
me much.
165
 THE GIRLS' DAY IN THE
OLD SWIMMIN' HOLE
No story of the Yancey Cox plantation would be complete
without relating at least one story connected with the old swim-
ming hole-and I can think of at least twenty good ones! .
The old swimming hole was the center of activity a. good part
of the time. It was the best "hole" within three miles, and a
great many neighbor boys loved to assemble there for a Sunday
afternoon of fun. It was situated about the center of our farm,
about a half-mile above the road, and on one side of it we
had a three-acre watermelon patch- which didn't hurt a thing!
There was hardly a day during the summer when we failed to go
swimming, and generally we had a crowd.
Now Panther Creek was no slouch when she went on a ram-
.page. During the summer, when the thunderstorms struck- some-
times cloud-bursts up around Panther Rock at the headwaters of
the creek on Purgatory Mountain- she jumped out of her nor-
mal channels, charged through some of our richest bottom land,
sweeping away corn in the tassel, wheat ready to harvest and
watermelons as big as buckets. She plowed out great big new
channels, actually taking away acres of our richest soil.
It was fortunate if Yancey was away when these ravages took
place, for he was mighty difficult to live with as he watched his
plantation carried away downstream.
In the dry season the water was clear, and the winding channel
provided a great many holes about two feet deep, ideal for shoot-
ing fish at night with a bow and arrow by the light of a pine
torch. Those floods, though, gave us boys many great thril)s.
And if Yancey was not at home to spoil the fun, when the
creek got on a rampage we boys would race up the creek a mile,
watch for a big log-or maybe a whole tree-come floating
down, swim out to it, hop .on and ride it downstream through
our plantation, past our house, often standing up on it and waving
at the onlookers-and with not too many clothes on, either!
One fine thing the floods did for us boys was to drop a huge
log directly across our swimming hole, about three. feet thick,
and it lay there for years. What a break to get a big slick log
directly over the middle of .our swimming hole-and for free!
166
During the summertime we boys worked all kinds of tricks to
get a swim once a day. When Yancey was away it was a cinch,
for Mother always figured she got good returns on the invest-
ment of allowing us a swim once a day. She even allowed us to
take a speCial dip about the middle of the afternoon during the
hot days in harvest time. For that we often worked till after dark.
Of course we boys talked endlessly about the fun we had in
the old swimming hole, telling some good yarns too -and
not quite telling some others. The girls were mighty jealous, and
our girls were so tomboyish that their urge to have this sort of
fun in the lo]d swimming hole was equal to ours.
One day, after we had related a good story, Mely said, "Ma,
if something ever happens to take all the menfolks away from
the plantation for a day, we girls are sure going to have some
fun in the old swimming hole!"
About ten days after that, news carne that there had been a
fist fight down at Kemps Mills and there would be a public trial
at 2 o'clock there on Saturday afternoon. Yancey was the Justice
of the Peace and had to be there; and, of course, all the boys
went In fact, every man and boy in the whole neighborhood
went. For it was such a novelty in our neighbood for any sort
of "disturbance of the peace" that a "trial" brought out a crowd.
Then, too, all the colored help left at noon on Saturday, so Mely's
wish had actually come true.
When Yancey and the boys rode off up the lane on Saturday
at I o'clock, Mely said, "Now, girls, let's go swimming-and
quick!"
Mother heard it; she always heard everything and saw every-
thing, but she had a way of pretending she didn't. Well, within
minutes there wasn't a girl in the house.
They raced up through the cornfield, and here was the big
swimming hole in the center of our big plantation, surrounded
by corn head high, with the entire afternoon ahead of them, and
not a man even in the whole neighborhood closer than Kemps
Mills three miles away. What a break! What a break!
And in a Jiffy, they discarded what we call- in realtor lan-
guage- "every encumbrance." Of course, there other ways of
saying it, but a "free translation" in this instance meant that they
were. "in the old swimming hole without anything on"!
And how happy they were to be in, splashing around, running
167
 the log, jumping off the log, pushing each other off the log, run-
ning and chasing each other in circles out through the cornfield
and back again for another belly-buster!
And believe it or not, right at the height of the first fifteen
minutes of play, all suddenly, and from out of nowhere, came
Jim Scott, a neighbor, hurrying across the big log on a run, with
no thought of any human being within a half-mile of him. Boom!
The girls screamed, flopped into the water; and the sudden sur-
prise of it threw him off balance, his feet slipped off the slick log,
and he fell in on top of the girls in water about three feet deep!
Well, he went out of there like a bat, leaving his hat behind.
Climbing out up the bank, he met Louie, my eldest sister, head
on as she was returning from the cornfield. Wheeling around,
she lit out down between two corn rows as hard as she could
fly, never once thinking it was wiser to run diagonally. He turned
and ran in the other direction, probably by now trying to recall
why he was going to Yancey's in the first place.
When he reached the house, all out of breath, wet all over
from head to foot, without a hat, his breeches covered with fresh
mud, he yelled for Yancey.
Mother came to the door and said, "Why, Mr. Scott, what
in the world has happened to you!"
He replied, "Mrs. Nancy, I feel like crawling under the porch
and howling like a dog! And danged if I think you will believe
it when I tell you what did happen. But my horse has got the
colic-my only horse-and I was coming on a run for Yancey;
and dad sink it, to save about a mile, I cut across the fields to
cross the creek on the old swimming-hole log; and as I was run-
ning across the log your girls screamed; and it frightened me
so dang bad I slipped and fell in right on top of them! I don't
know how many were in swimming-! didn't look back-but
Louelvia nearly ran over me as I was crawling out onto the bank,
when she wheeled round and ran down a corn middle. I just
couldn't help but look at her running. Why, Mrs. Nancy, she is
as wide across as Yancey's big Percheron draft horse, I swan!
I never saw such a sight, I swan, I never did! Oh, yes, as I was
going to say, my horse has got the colic! Where is Yancey?"
Mother gave him some colic medicine, and he started off on
a run; and this time he followed the road!
Now Louelvia- "Louie," as we called her- raised a large
family-like all the other girls-three doctors, four graduate
168
nurses, one minister, one the wife of a college president and one
tlie wife of a North Carolina distributor of International Har-
vesters. She will soon be ninety, and she is still spry, hearty and
happy. .
Recently 'she came by to see me, and we had some big laughs
about the good old days on the farm- and of course, the "girls'
day at the old swimming hole."
I asked her, "Louie, why in the world did you run straight
down through that cornfield between two rows of corn, instead
of diagonally?"
She replied, "Well, I admit my judgment may not have been
at its best; but my feet were certainly doing their best! Anyway,
my main concern, right then, was to put the greatest distance
between me and that pair of breeches I saw coming up out of the
water!"
THE BIG COON FIGHT
Probably no living mortal could be more serious than Yancey
when he was serious- and that was most of the time; but when
he reverted, probably no mortal excelled him in the pursuit of
a good time.
Nothing seemed to change the picture from the serious like
hunting and fishing. He threw everything he had into it, just
like fighting fire. And don't get the idea he ever sat for five
minutes with a fishing rod in his hands. No, Siree! That method
was too slow for his style. He never "induced" either fish or
wild game: he "forced" them! He insisted on a seine when he
went fishing; and of all times, he liked it best when a thunder-
storm was on and muddy water was coming up fast.
Seining in Panther Creek was ideal; it was not too wide for
a twenty-foot seine to reach from bank to bank. Two good, strong
men held the seine poles down and against either bank, at the
lower end of a "hole," while three or four of us -would jump in
a hundred feet up and come down, each with a hoe, simply
tearing up the creek bed. Just as we reached the lower end of
the hole, the seine was raised, and sometimes two dozen fish
169
 ~ere caught with one haul . . . every kind of fish, and some-
tunes an eel.
When. we .did. catch an eel, boy, oh, boy, what a time we
h~d gettmg .him m the sack! Everybody would be trying to cinch
him; ~ometim~s even three or four of us thought we had him.
~nd If ther~ IS anything slicker and more elusive than an eel,
It s two of em! Once I saw Yancey struggling with one using
ev~y. sleight-of:han~ ~ick he knew, down in the belly 'of the
s~me, then up m !llldair, and back again -finally biting it with
his teeth as he scrambled out on to the bank!
As soon as. it quit raining, he wanted to light ont on a squirrel
hunt, for sqmrrels hustle aronnd after a rain while the leaves are
wet; and, too, the d~gs can scent them better on damp leaves.
. In th~ fa~, when hickory nuts and acorns are falling, squirrels
donble I~ size and get ~o fat they can hardly bend. They taste
almost like pheasant, nch and sharp in flavor. We boys each
had our ~wn guD:s-allm~zzle-loaders in those days-and when
we sometunes failed to brmg a squirrel down out of a tall tree
Yancey then delighted in showing off his skill with his old faithfui
"Kaintucky rifle," which was about six feet long. He molded his
bnllets and always poured in a double charge of powder. His
plan was .to lie down flat on his back, cock up one knee and
shoot straight up through the limb the squirrel was lying on.
He seldom missed!
When we went. hunting nights for coons, we carried a pine
torch. Our sta~e m the. early days was noted for its rich pine
trees, from. which tar, pitch and turpentine were made. We split
out long pieces, and three of these, lighted at one end, lasted
for about five hours of hunting and made a swell light for half-
dozen of us as we walked through the woods.
yve went coon-hunting one night over on Richland Creek.
Wmfred was carrying the torch when suddenly all our seven coon
dogs struck a hot trail. Yancey grabbed the torch and followed
the dogs so fast on a nm that the rest of us caught the limbs
in ou: faces whopping back as Yancey went through. It was either
take It and stay up or hang back and follow in the dark. But with
Yancey around, nobody ever hung back, limbs or no limbs.
Steuben said- mumbling not loud enough for Yancey to hear
it- "He's trying to tree the coon before the dogs do!"
The race lasted for about a half-mile only and it was such
a "hot trail" that we feared the dogs would ~vertake the coon
170
before he clinibed a tree. But he made it; and then the voices
of all the dogs changed, and we knew they had "treed." Finally,
we all got there after we had been whopped and whipped in the
face through a ,half-mile of thicket as we strnggled to follow Yan-
cey and the pine torch.
The moment we got there, Steuben lit right up the tree. He
could climb a ,tree faster than anybody I ever saw- a good deal
like a South Sea Islander going up a coconut palm. It was a tree
leaning way out over the creek, but none of us knew it until
Yancey, with ;his pine torch held behind him, looking up for
the coon and' walking backwards the way the tree leaned, sud-
denly fell over backwards about twenty feet down through laurel
bushes knocking his pine torch into ten thousand sparks into a
big hole of water -kul-lunge! Just at this very instant, Steuben
shook the coon out, and it fell on top of Yancey; then all seven
dogs jumped in on top of Yancey and the coon. Steuben couldn't
have timed it any better, if he had tried, and through the years
we all think he tried!
Well, the doggondest coon fight you ever heard of ensued.
There seemed to be no bottom to the water hole. Yancey was
treading water, the coon was struggling to stay on Yancey's head
-the only thing afloat- and all seven dogs were trying to get
the coon off Yancey's head. Every tinle this happened, the dogs,
coon and Yancey all went under; and every time Yancey came
up for air, the coon was right there on his head again, fighting
for Iris right to the only thing afloat!
Yancey tried diving and swinlming under water, but every
time he came up for air, the coon was right there on his head
again; and worse, two or three dogs were trying to stand on his
back. Once more he dived and swam about twenty feet, and
this time he found bottom.
"What a relief," he said, "to be disregarded by the coon for
one minute, to get unstrangled and get both feet flat on some-
thing solid!"
The fight over, he picked up the coon and clambered up the
twenty-foot creek banlc, the brnsh tearing off the rest of his
shirt the dogs hadn't already ripped off. Finally, up on level
ground, he yelled out, "Where have you all gone?" We hadn't
gone- he was the one who had made quite a trip. It was black
dark, and he had quite a job finding us; but finally, he struggled
up through the brnsh, half-naked and without a hat, his face and
171
 bald head scratched . . . and cross-scratched! For once a mere
coon had robbed Yancey of much of his dignity; and by the time
.he reached us, he was mad as a wet hen.
We were all in spasms of laughter and couldn't think of a thing
to say; and if Stanley Cox, a dear cousin of ours, hadn't spoken
np, our dead silence might have been "explosive." But in the nick
of time, Stanley said, "Why, Yancey, you look like you've been
to a baptizin!"
That fixed it! And when Stanley started in again with his
"wheezing laugh," bending over and holding his stomach, Yan-
cey finally saw the funny side of it and joined in- but he near-
ly didn't!
WAKE UP, AMERICA- THE YELLOW
LIGHT IS FLASHING!
In past ages, it has never been popular to be good; neither has
is been profitable. Evil seems always to get the headlines and the
acclaim from the shouting crowds. The "wicked do flourish like
a pahn tree," while the righteous do manage to survive, but
with a clear conscience.
Science and technology have outdistanced all other achievements
in our present age. Progress in morals and integrity has been so
swiftly passed by that goodness, like a dwarf, is not only dis-
regarded but held by many in disdain. Technology has so caught
the human imagination that the call to goodness is indeed like
a voice crying in the wilderness. Evil is in the ascendancy; good-
ness is in sore need of friends.
Surely no one in his right mind is happy with the present world
situation. It must be evident to all that moral conditions gen-
erally are in a very sad plight- far worse than a dozen years
ago. A review of crime statistics by the Bureau of Federal Inves-
tigation shows that crime is not only on the increase but is escalat-
ing far faster than the increase in population. We have gotten, by
now, so used to it that it no longer shocks us. Furthermore, the
alarming tendency is to "refuse to become involved," even in
reporting it, when we actually see the. crime committed.
Also, every honest person knows there is ample proof that
criminal acts are often winked at by high officials in our gov-
172
ernment, by responsible business executives, by persons of im-
portance in om institutions of learning, in our courts, and in
our churches. The dangerous philosophy of "permissiveness" IS
PERMEATING ALL AREAS OF American life, blurring the
sharp line between right and wrong and lending implied sanction
to evil. ,
Crime statistics are shocking; moral statistics are sickening.
Twenty years ago, an official report of illegitimate births startled
the counqy; now they are nearly 300 per cent higher, with mothers
of high-school age leading. Medical science has boasted its ad-
vance in 'the prevention of venereal disease, yet syphilis among
adolescents has doubled in the last six years. Medical science also
boasts of new and better contraceptives, yet. unwanted pregnancies
keep rising.
Never before in history have the forces of evil worked in such
concert in blasting at the foundations of our age-old traditions
and moral restraints to change the long-established moral code
to fit the "present mores." Evil has seized the present-day obses-
sion with, and misuse of, sex as the most effective vehicle for its
insidious onslaught against the fortress of moral decency.
Pearl Buck, the celebrated novelist, says, "The change in our
present-day ethics of sex is so far-reaching, and so abrupt, that
we are all dazed by it."
A national authority on sociology says, "Modern youth has
seized onto the 'New Freedom' with such abandon that they have
not yet learned that it is actually a slavemaster. They are really
losing their freedom- freedom to enjoy the delightful romance
of courtship, the time of longing for each other, when nature
stores up in each a life-reserve of affection, designed to carry them
through all the vicissitudes of fortune which lie ahead, a time to
specially prepare themselves to join in life's supremest adven-
ture. They are losing the freedom to decide when to marry, when
to have babies, how to prepare for the right job, and where they
are going to live, instead of being forced suddenly to do all these
things under humiliating pressure, ill prepared, to say the least
-and they call tl1is tl1e 'New Freedom.' They start life jaded;
and they are 'old' at forty.''
Many powerful influences have converged in this present age
to bring about this sudden change in the ethics of sex. The
Industrial Revolution has thrown people together like sardines.
But modern-day technology has given wings to the novel, the
173
 movie and television, and has enhanced pornographic literature
a thousandfold- not only making all these things as available
as picking them up but actually brainwashing the minds of
youth with its incessant repetition every hour of the day and
night, on every wave length. The modern novel often reaches
down into the gutter for sensational and lecherous material; the
ads for the commercial movie make a "sex-sell" by all the tricks
of the trade; and the pornographic filth on the corner dmgstore
rack exploits sadism and sex perversion with a most seductive art.
This incessant flow of filth pouring into the ears and eyes of
our youth dulls their finer sensibilities in every American home;
and before we realize it, they have developed a philosophy of
sex ethics entirely new. and a way of . behavior disappointing
to your hopes. ' meeting would be enlightening, for there the neighborhood facts
This. technology has enabled the entertainment industry to
amass fortunes at the expense of our children's morals, com-
mercializing sex; and through the dime novel, the cheap drama,
the seductive movie and pornographic smut, it has brought to
bear on our youth an overwhelming, torrential sex urge so pow,
erful that their minds are ill equipped to resist it. In fact, .only
the very few can withstand it. All hail the Spartan austerity of
many of our young athletes and others whose idealism sustains
them. But how seldom are these choice young persons idealized
in their communities for their moral standards as well as for
their physical prowess!
The "New Freedom" embraces many facets of evil. Among
the young it covers every type of sex excitement, from "going
steady" to sleeping together while in college. Under the new
freedom, premarital sex is not only approved but promiscuity
is also endorsed. Among the older set, extramarital sex, pro-
miscuity, and sometimes the swapping of wives are indulged in.
Within the last year, the Women's City Club of one of our largest
cities advertised and otherwise sponsored a lecture by the author
of a book entitled Selective Promiscuity; and the whole affair
was carried off with the brazenness of J ezebel, and without any
organized protest by the family women of the community.
The "New Freedom" has had a disrupting effect on the home
life of America. I have observed many so-called "waves of the
future" pioneered by youth movements- the "hip-flask era,"
defiant of all tradition; the "social revolutionaries" of the twen-
ties; the "political revolutionaries" of the thirties. In all these
174
instances, the youthful radicals at least professed to have a pro-
gram for the future. But of the "New Freedom," six outstanding
university sociologist say, "They have no program whatsoever
unless it . be iconoclasm." Their hopes and plans for the future
seems bahlcrupt. They act completely disillusioned- disillusioned
in society and in themselves. They sneer at our professions of
religion-'- all religions- they disdain our concept of democracy,
they deride our interpretation of civil rights and they laugh with
contempt: at our agonizing search for peace. Worst of all, they
screech negations and affirm nothing except their rights to the
"New Ft:eedom."
The American home, as I knew it while growing up, has re-
trogressed into a sort of "boardinghouse." A visit to any P.T.A.
come out. The "family," which has long been the unit of society,
has disintegrated. It is almost impossible to get an agreement on
any family group activity. Going as a group to church, is out;
even a family picnic is impossible to carry out; mealtime is a
progression of coming and going; and after dinner, "homework"
can just wait, because each one chooses to sally forth for night
excitement in various directions, returning at all hours between
midnight and dawn. Not only is parental respect gone, but parental
authority has gone with it. Dad is called a "square," and has no
higher standing than as a "forager" for the clan; Mother is sel-
dom upgraded beyond "cook and housemaid." The kids, if they
could agree, would mn the place; but they can't agree, so no-
body runs the place.
For some months I have resisted the urge to comment on this
explosive subject, but somebody had better do it, for the "yellow
light is flashing"; and unless our American citizenry proceeds
with greater caution, there is real danger that we shall "run the
next red light"!
I finally decided to say my piece when I lately observed, with
great dismay and deep regret, that a segment of the clergy is al-
ready exhibiting a "permissive approach" toward this deceptive
"New Freedom" movement. A few spineless weaklings of the
cloth- possibly grasping for a straw of publicity- have stooped
to downgrade moral standards by giving their assent to promiscuity
and premarital sex. What a breath of fresh air to hear the Wall
Street Journal retort, "There is a vast difference between recog-
nizing human frailty and lending it the seeming sanction of author-
175
 ity. The wisdom of the Decalogue is not repealed because some
adults commit adultery." This succinct statement should cut these
false prophets down to size and help to remove any further dis-
guise of their betrayal of their holy trust to uphold moral stand-
ards instead of to downgrade them.
Arnold Toynbee says, "Of twenty-one notable civilizations,
twenty perished not from conquest from without, but" from decay
within." Another great historian, Dr. Unwin of Cambridge Uni-
versity, who has made an extensive research of all civilizations of
the past, says, "Any civilization of human society can choose
to display great energy or to enjoy sexual freedom; but the
evidence is that they can not do both for more than one gene-
ration."
What is the answer to this complex problem? Who has the
solution to this sex revolution in America? Where are the moral
statesmen of our age?
Surely, the downgrading of moral standards to fit present-day
mores offers no hope; for downgrading at any juncture connotes
further downgrading at some future time, and eventually there
will be no standard of morals at all. Meantime, the bedrock of
moral certainty is crumbling under our feet.
Looking to the "New Freedom" for a solution, with its clan-
destine philosophy for snatching the elixir of pleasnre from just
any wild flower till the end of summer, has no firmer foundation
for lasting happiness than the philosophy of the butterfly. Chasing
the will-o'-the wisp in another . . . and another . . . eventually
cheapens the whole thing, down and down, until the holiest of
all God's gifts has no meaning. It depreciates the act of love
-the profoundest expression of true personal union. between
man and wife, and eventually tends to destroy the basic cohesive
element of civilization, reducing humans to the level of animals.
Furthermore, it is a slavemaster. Analyze the faces of those who
pursue it, and you will see clearly the scars from the whiplashes
of a guilty conscience. Listen also to their story- it is an unsuc-
cessful search for happiness, and it always ends in tragedy.
The peoples of earth, in the inter<;ost of survival, have from
time immemorial, devised certain restraints -group restraints-
for the purpose of directing and focusing energies, pushing them-
selves further up the pathway of civilization- restraints on the
group to permit the individual to enjoy a greater intensity of hu- .
man experience within the framework of "marriage" in his tent,
176
in his hogan, or in his castle- such as the restraint of "No
Trespassing" against another's "family abode." Snch restraints
have been common to all the peoples of the earth- an uncon-
scious manifestation of the whole human race found by all as
essential to' survival.
Cicero said, "The real Empire is at the fireside."
Victor Hugo said, "A house is built of logs and stone, of
tiles and posts and piers;
"A hom~ is built of loving deeds that stands a thousand years."
Civilized' nations have long considered the home the founda-
iton unit of group security. And they have encircled it with the
restraint of "No Trespass." Even the barbarians early understood
that the home provides the idealist retreat, where true love may
be given and received with the supreme intensity of human ex-
perience, and where its raptures need not decline "until death
do us part."
We cherish our inalienable right of choice- freedom either to
do right or to do wrong. We have the right to choose freedom
without restraints or freedom with restraints. We can ignore his-
tory and have the freedom of a butterfly for a season; or we can
choose freedom with restraints, and have security for a free so-
ciety forever. All sane persons subscribe to the restraints of a
rigid traffic code for our highways, except the drunks and the
irresponsibles. I appeal to the citizens of America to choose to
uphold and defend a high standard of morals for ourselves,
against the sensual drunks of our present age who, if. ~~ow.ed,
would pull down in reckless abandon the structure of clVlhzation
upon our heads!
We are at the crossroads; now is the time to choose. The
iconoclasts are still in the minority; but the danger of moral
chaos is imminent. Unless we soon reverse the trend, we shall
surely go down the drain like Rome and all the other nations
that relaxed moral restraints in favor of sexual freedom.
How can it be done? It can be done-and it must be done.
It must be resolved by individuals- by you and me- choosing
first to respond to the call of self-control, self-discipline, a clean
heart and righteousness; and then we must call with a demanding
voice, upon the clergy to hold high the age-old standard of morals
-indeed so high that none can quite reach them, lest any man
should boast-and then we must appeal to all those in authority
-and incessantly appeal- to back up the clergy, and so po-
177
 'I
pularize the call ~o moral restraint that the citizenry of our nation
shall choose, while they can yet choose, to live with pride, in
honor and decency!
THE OLD CANE MILL
You'd think that raising a family of fourteen and running a
plantation on the side would be just about enough for a little
woman to manage; but another sideline or two didn't seem to
faze Mother a bit.
Every fall we ran a cane mill for about two months. Farmers
for thirty miles hauled their sugarcane to our mill, dropped it
off, and came back about two months later and picked up their
barrel of molasses; generally, they called it "sorghum." We em-
ploy~d a~out ten pe~sons extra to run the cane mill, and part of
the tnne It was a mght-and-day operation.
The mill consisted of two eighteen-inch rollers powered by a
mule hitched to a long pole going round and round, with a colored
boy. s~icking cane ~~lks in between the rollers, which squeezed
the JUice out. The JUice was then transferred to a big twenty-six-
foot long vat, under which we kept up a roaring fire. There were
ba.ffies in the vat to check the flow of juice. The impurities were
skinnned o~ by three Negro women, and the juice was properly
cooked on Its way to the other end. As it approached the final
process, the syrup ?ecame .a golden red-brown color, although it
was so clear one IIDght easily read newspaper print at the bottom
of a .gallon can. When it. reached the proper consistency, it was
emptied out through a spigot, measured and poured into the cus-
tomer's barrel. We retained one gallon out of ten as fee for
the entire operation. As many as ten tinies a day, Moilier came
around ?ouble-checking ilie whole process, especially watching
ilie consistency of ilie sorghum before it was emptied from fue
vat. She also double-checked ilie measuring and labeling of fue
barrels.
We boys hauled ilie wood, kept ilie fires going, delivered fue
cane stalks to the colored boy, transported the juice to the vat
and emptied the "skiiiDuings" over the fence to the hogs. ' hogs! Here the old "baby" came, about six jumps ahead of
One day ilie colored boy feeding cane stalks to the rollers
' hot sorghum! BOOM! She let out a squeal like Casey Jones' ex-
178
when things got sort of dull and monotonous, thought he would
just try out someiliing else between ilie rollers to see what would
happen. 'I'he first iliing handy was the screw driver. He stuck
that in, and boom- it burst one of ilie rollers wide open! Yan-
cey happened to be there; and boy, did the fireworks break loose!
The little boy darted out over a big cane pile for ilie open
country.
Yancey yelled at him, "What in ilie world did you do?"
The little fellow yelled back, just before he went into orbit,
"Mr. Yancey, I stuck de dry-scruvah in de thing!"
Well, I 'will at least defer telling any more of this phase of the
day's work, but plenty happened!
This occurred right at ilie busiest time of the whole season.
It was fifty miles to the nearest foundry; and when no new roller
could be found, ilie old one had to be taken to Greensboro to
ilie foundry and the pieces brazed togeilier. It took altogether
two weeks before we got back into operation. Fortunately, Yan-
cey left ilie second day, to ilie welcome relief of everybody's
nerves. When ilie little colored boy didn't hear Yancey's ominous
voice any longer, he figured it was safe to venture back to civili-
zation; and so he showed up the third day. He said he had been
hiding in a haystack.
Our hog pasture bordered the cane-mill operations. And we
boys poured ilie skimmings off ilie vat over into ilie hog trough.
The hogs vied wiili each other to get there first, for iliey liked
ilie sweet sorghwn delicacy. Aside from ilie "meanest cow," which
I have already described, we had an old sow, which at least was
ilie meanest hog in the world! She not ouly seemed to get there
first, but she fought away every oilier hog as she ate; and, in
one case, she slantmed three small shotes against the fence, crip-
pling them fatally.
One day Steuben just couldn't stand it any longer; and he
said, "Now everybody, watch iliis! I'm going to teach that old
baby some manners!"
And knowing Steuben, as they all did, nearly everybody stopped
everything and watched.
He walked over to ilie spigot, and let out a big bucket full
of red-hot sorghum, set ilie bucket over the fence and called ilie
the next fastest, and rannned her head up to her ears in that red
179
press! She ran backwards about thirty feet, bumped into a tree,
jumped nearly straight up in the air about four feet, squealing
every breath to split your ears, running circle and rooting in the
ground trying to rub off the sorghum. In no time at all, she
had scraped nearly all of the skin off her ugly face. The other
hogs stood around in amazement, as if they were ashamed of
being hogs. The colored help just about went nuts. Some of
them laughed till they cried, then beat each other on the back
as they laughed some more!
When the fun slackened a bit, Old Sandy stepped forward and
said to Steuben, "Mistah Steuben, Ah sees ri now yo sho gvzyn
tah make a good preacher! Ef some ole. harden sinner jes won't
com on into de Kingdom, you jes give him hot sorghum! Dat'l
fetch em! Ef some rascal take yo coat, yo don't mess aroun,
you jes douse 'm with hot sorghum! Har, bar, bar, bar! Ef yo
cane co-vert 'em wan way, yo fetch 'em an-uthah! Har, har, har,
he, he, he-ACH/ And yo bigin-in early-by praktiz-in on de
hogs! Har, har, ho, ho! My Lord! No, sire-EEl No second mile
in yo gos-peel- not eben an extra ten foot! Jes red-hot sorghum
-de hottah, de bettah! Oh, har, har!"
And in spasms of laughter he staggered over and fell on a pile
of cane stalks, rolling from side to side. He just couldn't quit
laughing!
THE CIRCUS COME TO TOWN
I doubt if there is a boy or girl in the world who doesn't love
a circus. And I doubt if there is one who ever wanted to see a
circus as much as I did when I was about ten.
We had an old geography book which showed pictures of most
of the wild animals of the jungle. We learned them by name and
wondered if ever we would get a chance to actually see them alive.
Our only printed contact with the outside world, when I was
a boy, was a four-page weekly newspaper called the Randolph
Courier. For a period of some weeks it ran articles telling about
the "John Robinson Circus," soon to come to town. It was the
forerunner of the world famous Barnum & Bailey Circus, called
"The Greatest Show on Earth." The date was not yet set, but
180
its coming was assured; and these articles and pictures were de-
signed to "wear down the resistance of the elderly for the benefit
of the youngsters." They stated that some of the animals we had
seen pictured in the old geography would surely be on hand.
We wondered and wondered if by chance we might get to go to
the circus when 'it came to town. . . .
This was during the panic of 1893, and money was scarcer
than hens' teeth. Much as we all yearned to go, nobody dared
ask Yancey, not even Mother. For some months, Yancey had
been on edge. P.eople who owed him couldn't pay; the corn crop
had "burnt up for lack of rain"; and "the wheat harvest was a
failure." Yancey saw everything through green glasses. No sub-
ject involving money could be discussed without jeopardy of
life or limb.
We devoured the weekly newspaper and read every word about
the coming circus, looked at the pictures of the wild animals, the
boa constrictor and the circus clowns, and figured that, at best,
anticipation was all we would get out of it. The situation looked
hopeless.
On the fifth week, the little paper gave us new hope. It stated
that "from the curbing on Main Street people standing there
could see several of the wild animals through the iron bars as
the large cages rolled down the street, and that the elephants and
camels would be in plain view; also, the clowns would put on
part of their act, doing handsprings and cartwheels down the
street-and ALL FOR FREE!"
We read this portion over and over; and before Yancey came,
we neatly folded the paper and laid it by his chair on the reading
table, and every one of us jumped to his books. Mother was
getting the doggondest suppe! you ever sat down. to, and. she
sort of drew it out a bit to gtve Yancey plenty of ttme to dtgest
thoroughly the circus story. We figured that if this article telling
about how much of the circus could be seen from the curbing
FREE, would surely get him on the hook, if anythi~g would.
In he came, walking awful heavy, and went sttmght to the
table, sat down hard, grabbed the paper; and out of the corl)er
of our eyes, we could tell this time it wasn't politics but the
circus story which had his attention. After he read it .through-
maybe twice- he folded the paper, then stretched Ius feet out
toward the fire for ten minutes. Not a word was spoken. It was
181
 like a courtroom just before the judge passes sentence -life of
death, we didu't know which.
Supper over, Yancey said, "Have these children been studying
this hard ever since I have been gone?"
The minute we had finished, we were right back at our books
again.
Mother said, "I've never known them to study harder or work
harder in the field as they have lately."
She always stuck up for us, even when it hurt. Then he left
the table and nailed right on to that circus story again. What
Mother said to him had probably fixed it, but he didn't bat
an eye.
After he had read it over and over again, he rolled the paper
up, then stretched his bare feet out toward the fire for fully ten
minutes; and not a word was spoken by anybody. Then, sud-
denly, he struck the table with the newspaper so hard it split up
into five or six small pieces.
Actually, it sounded like a gunshot; and with that, he stormed
out at as "Now, get to bed, we're all going to the circus to-
morrow!"
Well, this sudden outburst was simply too much for the nerves
of my little sister Norvia, about eight. She dashed in the direc-
tion of Mother, stumbled over Steuben's feet, crushed into a
dishpan of shelled beans Mother was preparing for the next day,
scattering them all over the kitchen. And boy, did we all hit
the hay!
Next morning, we were all up by 4; we milked the cows, car-
ried the milk to the springhouse, fed the hogs, fed the horses,
put fresh hay in the wagon bed, carried out twelve chairs to sit
in, dressed up in our go-to-meetin' clothes, polishes our shoes
with mutton tallow and chimney soot, ate a whaling breakfast-
and off we all went by daylight. We drove like mad for four
hours to cover ten miles of the dad-limbedest mud you ever tried
to slog through. It was nearly axle-deep in places, and we couldn't
make any time. We worried every minute, for fear we might
miss the big free parade. And sure enough, we met the circus
coming down Main Street head on. Winfred cut the wagon too
short and nearly tipped us over, but it fiually righted itself; and
in about ten seconds, we were all on the curbing, peeling our
eyes at the wild animals. Winfred threw me up "a-straddle" of
his neck, and I had the best seat of all.
182
Norvia said, "Ma, that elephant is as big as our granary."
Then Steuben cracked loose with another and said, "Yeah, and
there is a giraffe so tall he can look down our chimney and see
what Ma's cooking!"
The caged animals rolled by -the lions and the tigers, the
big boa constrictor, and about forty monkeys all in one cage.
The clowns. followed along behi<'ld, doing their cartwheels and
back handsprings; and then the "spielers" cut loose with the
doggondest selling talk you ever heard- sounded like Yancey
selling the fiuest' Percheron in the lot- and it went sort of like
this, "Right this way, Ladies and Gentlemen! Step right up in
line, get your tickets right here, to see the greatest show on
earth, the royal Bengal tiger, and the wild woman from Borneo.
Hurry, hurry, hurry!"
And they must have done a good job of selling, for Yancey
called us all together, divided up the money and said, "Now see
all you can free, and use your money only when you. have to,
and meet back here at sundown!"
Then we scattered. Winfred and Steuben got a job carrying
water to the elephants and got in free to see all.the wild animals.
With our money, we all did pretty well- and even saw some
of the sideshows, which Grandmother allowed " 'twarn't fitten to
look at."
When the day was over, we all straggled back to the wagon,
tired, dusty, thirsty and hungry enough to eat nails. Mother had
fixed us up a big. basket of supper; but for some reason, the
horses had reached over, after they had eaten their hay, and
messed it up beyond recognition. All that could be done now
was to buy some cheese and crackers at the general store on the
corner and make that do till we reached home; and even this used
up about all the money Yancey had left. The crackers, of course,
made us more tlrirsty, and there must have been forty people
around the town pump. It was after sundown and beginning to
get dark; the horses were already hitched up, and '! ancey was
chafing to get started, for we had a long, hard tnp ahead of
us home.
About two miles out, we struck a mess of wagons choking up
the road. One had a broken axle, and the others couldn't get
by. Yancey took old Rondo up front, hitched h~ to the broken
wagon, and he pulled it out sideways to the s1de of the road.
Then we all began to move. The road was full of wagons for a
183
 full mile. On and on we slogged down that muddy road till
finally it forked off to the right; and pretty soon we were going down
the three-mile hill. At the bottom of the hill was the Hobson
Ford on Richland Creek. The road all the way down was "woods "
impossible to see out or up; and the ford was darker than Egy~t.
When the horses struck the water, they rammed their noses up
to their eyes, for they hadn't had water all day. We were all dead
~sleep, hru;ging on each other's shoulders, trying to sit upright
m our chairs. It was darker than a dungeon, and not even the
sound of a cricket could be heard.
When Yancey thought the horses had had enough, he cracked
his "black-snake whip" like the sound of a rifle and at the
same instant, he yelled ''YAHO!" at the very top' of hls voice.
You could have heard it a mile! The horses jumped ten feet the
first lunge- ou and up and out of the steep bank on the other
side, running now at a gallop.
Well, everybody's chair went over backwards, except Yancey's.
I was sitting on Mother's lap; and when her chair went back-
ward, she threw me about ten feet back, a-straddle Winfred's
neck. Mother had an awful time getting back ''upright." Of course,
it was dark, but even so, everybody's legs were sticking straight
up in the air a few seconds, before things began to take form
again. Steuben fell over the hind gate into the creek and his
chair fell on top of him.
Finally, when Yancey got the horses stopped, and everyone
scrambled up into their chairs, Steuben came running, dragging
his chair over the rocks. Old Rondo lunged another ten feet and
nearly threw everybody backwards a second time. He must have
figured the "Yahoes" had returned this time for the horses!
Finally, when Steuben climbed in over the hind gate of the
wagon, we were on our way. Throughout all this commotion, not
a word was spoken by anyone!
After we had gone about a half-mile up the road, Mother said,
"Well, at least you might have told me you were going to do
that!"
Yancey said, "I didn't know I was going to do it myself!"
184
AND THIS ON A SILVER PLATTER
There seems to be no end to these plantation stories. Each
time I finish ope, another pops into my mind and generally tan-
talizes me till :I finish it. It's hard to stop, but I'm going to-
for writing's no good, anyway. It spoils a good story. A good
story should be told, not written- and told in the proper setting.
If only you could meet me at the spring on the old plantation
-that would Ifix it! We'd take a good long cold drink out of
the spring with a long-handled gourd, stretch out on the wild
daisies in the shade of the big weeping willows, in the rich frag-
rance of the wild honeysuckle, then talk about the "Yaho" legend
and the thrill that must have filled the hearts of Harmon and
Jane as they enjoyed this very same experience for the first time
when they found the spring. We'd saunter around over the plan-
tation, talk about the different fields - nineteen of them - the
Flax-brake Piece, Simmon Hill, the Breeches-Piece, Rabbit Knoll,
Arrowhead Bottom, the Yaho Thicket, etc. -all of which had
a story worth telling; and we'd swing around by the old swimmin'
hole, where forty more stories might be told. There- as so many
times in my life- I fell so far short of my hopes and expecta-
tions and shot a mere bullfrog instead of a prized whooping
crane! Then we'd go back to the spring again for another drink
of cold water, to rest a while in the company of wild azaleas
and black-eyed daisies. Boy, that's what I would call really living!
But listen to me! Spring is here! Wild flowers are in bloom!
The Gunnison is alive with rainbows; and there's a big run of
salmon on right now in the Rogue; and on beyond, the great
Northwest is calling- the Columbia, the Frazer, Kamloops Lake,
and, let's hope, a big-game hunt in Alaska before we come back!
Gee, I'd like to get a crack at a polar bear!
But before I shut up shop and lock up, I'd like to display a
few items in my dowry which I think my forebears have passed
down to me on a silver platter. As I display mine, how I wish I
could inspect the traits of character you think your sires have
bequeathed to you. What a treat it would be to swap stories about
how all our forebears fared and why they behaved as they did
during the pioneer days and the critical times later on in our
nation's history. I can't claim kin to Patrick Henry, John Pauf
Jones or Nathan Hale. Maybe these were your kin. How I wish
185
 I could claim kin with "Barbara Fritchie" and the boy who
carried the "Message to Garcia"! And yet, how wonderful that
yon and I, as Americans, have equal rights to the rich heritage
from all the patriots of the past who have made America great!
Here are a few items I am especially grateful for:
A SOUND BODY: The long pastoral and agricultural back-
ground of my forebears acclimated their physical and mental
habits to the rhythm of Nature- seed time and harvest, reaping
what they had sowed, working by the season rather than the
clock, canse and effect, expecting what they planned for with a
long-view look- in plant life, in their animals, and in their
offspring. Great caution was used in selecting their life partners,
in carrying on the "tradition of honoring their ancestors by plan-
ning for their progeny."
RESULT: Physical specimens with vigor, virility and endur-
ance, consistently living far beyond the years of three score
and ten.
For the strong fibre of this sturdy stock in me, I have had
reason to be grateful all my life.
A SOUND MIND: Now I could have used-oh, so nicely-
a stronger intellect. But I have been certain that all the wheels
were in place, with no cogs out, and that it was up to me to
keep the wheels turning if I hoped to get results- proud enough
of my brain to stay encouraged, but always subdued enough to
keep me straining.
AN EXTRA SERVING OF CURIOSITY: Even with onlJ
a very ordinary. mind, one is not too badly off to start with il
one has an abundance of curiosity. If you can learn anything
at all from experience, curiosity can carry you quite a ways.
Curiosity is a wonderful teacher. Enough of this virtue, and
you're off to the fields of learning- or somewhere! And, even-
tually, it is hoped that one learns enough to place only one hand
at a time down on a red-hot stove . . . to see if is hot!
INGENUITY: It surely would be a pity to be lacking in in-
genuity, especially with an oversupply of cmiosity! You can
collllt on curiosity to get you into trouble, but it takes ingenuity
to get you out of it. I can recall a time or two when things looked'
pretty grim, but I made it! And how I have prized the amollllt
of ingenuity I did get, for through the years it probably doubled
my venturesomenes, always believing that my ingenuity could
186
be relied on for slipping through the net. After all what makes
life richer than adventuresome spirit?
SELF-RELIANCE: Generally, I have been fairly well satisfied
with the amount of self-reliance I had dished out to me, though
I recall a few instances when I found myself grabbing at a stra~,
hoping my luck would change- and in a hurry! I am certam
I got a lot of this virtue from Ya.ncey. ~e had ~n o':ersupply of
it But in a few predicaments, my mgenmty came m. mighty handy
in keeping me at least from disclosing to others JUst how close
I came to yelling for help! . .
SELF-CONTROL: I surely have been grateful many limes m
my life for the extra dash of self-control bequeathed to me. I am
always at my best in any emergency, and the recompense f~r
it is doubled, because that is when others generally need. their
self-control bolstered. Furthermore, it accommodates your Image
in appearing to excel those about you in self-contro~ judgment
and comage.
This virtue approaches the finest equipment a m~. can possess
as he goes through life. Those llllder one's supervisiOn respond
to such leadership with an extraordinary smge of loyalty. ~em:
associates will give you room if you know where you are gomg, .
and they will follow you, too, if you are in full control of your
powers.
SENSE OF HUMOR: When they pomed in a sense of humor,
I am sme glad they gave me a heaping meas~re. ~itho~t a
doubt, it has served me well in several precanous SituatiOns.
Once I am sure, it doubtless saved me a fight or a foot race-.
or m~ybe both! After forty years, I still have quahns a~out th~
incident, and wonder what possessed me to resort to humor
when the situation looked fatefully hopeless! .
If one can keep the proper balance when others about him
are off balance, "there will be a lot of lUlllber cut before the
boiler wears out." .
AN OPEN MIND: I am thankful for an open mmd-.no
prejudices 110 biases, no in-grown notions! Always I have relied
011 facts. 'There can be no substitute for facts- no argument
with truth. d b t
It has always Ii.ad a beneficent effect . on my attitu e a on
ultimate results. An open mind- and reliance on truth:- makes
one an optimist; it gives one tire needed patience to await results.
187
 My parents did me a greater favor by giving me an open mind
than if they had left me an interest in a bank!
' A RESPONSIVE HEART: I know I inherited a responsive
! ~e~rt. As f~r as I can remember anything, I have had a very sen-
Sitive reaction to everything around me, both good and bad.
But, instinctively, I have been "inclined" to "choose the good,
and eschew the evil." I am not sure if my temptations to do
wrong have been less violent than that of others- I do not think
. so- but the desire to do right has consistently been stronger
than to do wrong, for which I can not believe I deserve all the
credit.
This has always made me feel humbly in debt to my fore-
bears for building up a moral reservoir from which I drew an
extra share. In some way, they must have bent the twig in the
right direction for me before I had the moral strength to deter-
mine my own course of action. My debt of gratitude to them
for this "bent twig" can never be discharged.
REVERENCE FOR HUMAN DIGNITY: From my earliest
recollection, I have resented the maltreatment of any person -
king or peasant.
As I look back over the early struggles of some of my fore-
bears, in their efforts to break the bonds of political and religious
servitude in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, I am con-
vinced they stored up for me a dowry of resentment toward any
attempt, by any person or any power, to coerce the human spirit.
My debt also is to all the American patriots for the liberties
we enjoy today under our Constitution- they can not be meas-
ured. We can only accept them with deep appreciation and hmn-
ble obligation as we go to the polls in constantly protecting these
liberties which guarantee to us the right to move about with
freedom of choice, follow any vocation we like, work at any job
we want, quit if we don't like it, choose the house we want to
buy, join any church in the community- yes, and go fishing if
we want to!
This heritage of American liberty has been handed to us on
a silver platter by our forebears. We didn't buy it- we couldn't!
A millionaire couldn't! The sum total of American freedom has
cost centuries in time, millions of lives in battle, . and number-
less choice souis lost to civilization through massacre and mar-
tyrdom. Inch by inch, our ancestors have struggled up the hill of
188
ignorance, superstition, prejudice and war in gahting our present
concept of human dignity.
It is our duty in our day to protect and defend this priceless
heritage!
FORMULA FOR HAPPINESS:. In my infancy, I was taught
the "kind~father concept" of the universe. This concept simplified
my thinking; it gave me a safe feeling, a feeling that a kindly
Heavenly Father wouid naturally help a child in trouble; and
just as naturally, a child in trouble couid freely ask help from
Him!
This "kine.!-father concept" made it easy for me early. to grasp
the idea of world brotherhood- a "family concept of all peo-
ples" of the entire mtiverse. It also removed early the possibility
of any feeling of "bigotry," before I even understood what the
word meant!
I was also early taught that the truest happiness for every hu-
man soul is to learn to live in harmony with the Creator of the
universe- not by works alone on our part, for I was also taught
early that never once in all the world's history has man succeeded
in deceiving God Ahnighty with his self-righteousness. Even after
we have done our level best, we still need the grace of God
through faith in the Redeemer!
This secret of true happiness is thousands of years old; it was
taught by Moses and the prophets, and is the Judea-Christian
doctrine of eternal salvation. It has come down to us through St.
Paul, St. Augustine, Martin Luther, John Wesley the Methodist,
and George Fox the Quaker-all urging every one in his own
way to blend his faith and his works into harmonious concert
with the Great Maestro of the universe.
This spiritual heritage also was bequeathed to me not only
by my own forebears but by the patriarchs and prophets and the
martyrs of ancient times. I accept it in humble gratitude, for it
points the way to eternal salvation- not just for the high and
ntighty but for the humblest person who has lost the way and
wants to come back to a Friendly Heavenly Father!
189
 ACKNOWLEDGMENT AUTHORITIES

A wise a~d a very honest man has said that about ali any Lower's Patronymica Britannica.
of us know IS what we have learned from others. Pedigrees of Families of Herts- William Berry.
F?r ~orne ye~rs, I have made a personal research of the Cox Herts Gentialogist.
family m America; but probably 90 per cent of all I have learned Nichol's Herald and Genealogist.
has come from other researchers, mainly from the grand research Burke's Dictionary of the Landed Gentry.
made around_ 19!2 by an international team of researchers of Burke's General Armory.
the Cox fanuly m America, headed by Henry Miller Cox of Burke's Extinct Peerage.
New Jersey. Burke's Colonial Gentry.
A member of this "team" was my cousin James Cox who Sainsbury's Calendar of StatePapers, 1574-1660.
started !'fie out on this research of mine. Later on, aft~r his Rotten's List of Emigrants.
death, his da~ghter Margaret- now Mrs. Stanley Stuart of Dallas Colonial Land Papers.
Texas- furmshed me with important assistance, giving me ac: Narrative and Critical History of America-Justin Winsor.
~s to .the findings of the grand research made in 1912 by an MacDonald's Source Book of American History.
International team of twenty. George Fox's Journal, 1652-1678.
. In atte~pting to tie together the genealogical and historical Our Quaker Friends of Ye Olden Time-John B. Crenshaw.
m t~e bnefest sort of way, in order to make my story a fast- History of Friends in America-'- Thomas.
movm~ rn;ama, I have selected a few important Quaker kinsmen Men, Women and Manners in Colonial Times-Sidney George
who did, mdeed, help make American history. Fisher.
Th? fol~owing is a partial list of the authorities consulted and History of the Baptists in the Middle States- Vedder.
exanun~d m the ~reparation of this story. The story is as accurate American Ancestry- Munsell.
as possible; .bu~ If any errors have crept in, I beg your indul- Historical and Political Studies- Johns Hopkins Univ. Publica-
gence. And If, m your opinion, I used too much rouge on some tions.
of my characters, be assured I was trying to make them more Zieber's Hera/dry in America.
palatable to your literary taste! American Almanac, 1844.
American Biographical Notes- Franklin B. Hough.
Hammersley's Register of Army Officers, 1779-1879.
Heitman's Historical Register, Officers of the Continental Army.
Army Register, 1815-1879.
Drake's Men of the Time.
Congregationalists in America-Rev. A. E. Dunning, D. D.
Records of the Virginia Company.
Smyth-Nib/ey Papers- Manuscript, New York City Library.
The Virginia Company-Rev. E. D. Neill.
Stith's Virginia.
190 191
 Hemung's Statutes of Virginia.
Economic History of Virginia.
Virginia Heraldica- Crozier.
Virginia County Records- Crozier.
Virginia Magazine of History.
The Cabells and their Kin- (Virginia) .
Hayden's Virginia Genealogies.
Savage's Genealogical Dictionary of New England.
New England Historical and Genealogical Register.
John Winthrop's History of New England.
New England Cox Families-Rev. John H. Cox.
Essex Institute Historical Collections.
Newport Historical Magazine, 1883.
Barber and Howe's Historical Collections.
New Haven Colonial Records, 1638-Hoadley.
History of Dorchester, Massachusetts.
Genealogical Quarterly, Salem, Mass.
Massachusetts Archives.
Quarto-Millennia/ of Taunton, Mass.
Emery's History of Taunton, Mass.
Eaton's History of King's County, Nova Scotia.
Caulkin's New London, Connecticut.
Vital Records of Rhode Island.
Maryland Archives.
Maryland Historical Magazine.
Founders of Maryland- Rev. E. D. Neill.
Colonial Families and their Descendants-Mary Burke Emery.
Scharf's Western Maryland.
Scharf's Chronicles of Baltimore.
Baldwin's Maryland Wills.
History of Maryland-Jolm L. Bozman.
McSherry's Maryland.
Old Kent (Md.) -George A. Hanson.
O'Callaghan's Register of New Netherlands.
Documentary History of New York.
Records of Reformed Dutch Church, New York (City).
New York Genealogical and Biographical Society Records.
Historical Magazine, New York. 1861.
Calendar of New York History (English) -Manuscript, N.Y.
City Library.
New Amsterdam and Its People-!. H. Innes.
(
192
,!I
l
~
Valentine's History of New York (City).
Dutch New York-Esther Singleton.
Riker's Annals of Newtown, Long Island.
Riker's Harlem.
Thompson's History of Long Island.
Southold Town Records (LOng Island).
Griffin's Journal, First Settlers of Southold.
Moore's Index (Early Settlers, Long Island).
East Hampton Records (b. I.).
Kingston Reformed Dutch. Church Records.
Lefroy's Bermudas.
John Cox and his Descendants (Island of Eleuthera) -C. S.
Williams.
New Jersey Archives.
Smith's History of New Jersey, 1765:
The English in East and West Jersey-Whitehead.
East Jersey Under the Proprietors- Whitehead.
Gordon's History and Gazetteer on New Jersey, I834.
Stryker's Officers and Men of the Revolution
History of New Jersey-Francis B. Lee.
History of New Jersey- Raum.
Spaulding's Handbook of New Jersey, 1606-1898.
History of the Baptists in New Jersey- Rev. Thomas J. Griffith.
Beekman's Early Dutch Settlers of Monmouth County, N. J.
Stillwell's Historical and Genealogical Miscellany, Monmouth
County.
History of Monmouth County- Ellis.
l{istory of Monmouth County- Salter.
Life of Hon. S. S. Cox, by M. H. Northrop and W. V. Cox.
Histories of Burlington, Mercer, Hunterdon, Somerset, Warren,
Sussex, and other Counties, by various authors.
Scharf's History of Delaware.
Penn. Archives.
Penn. Genealogical Society's Records.
Penn. Magazine of History.
Futhey and Cope's History of Chester County, Pa.
Penn. Census-1790.
History of Bucks County, Pa.- Battle.
Immigration of Irish Quakers into Pennsylvania- Albert C.
Myers.
The Literary Era-Philadelphia, 1898.
193
North Carolina Historical and Genealogical Register.
South Carolina Under the Proprietary Government-Edward
I
McCrady. I
South Carolina, Genealogical and Historical Magazine.
Colonial History of North Carolina- Ashe.
I
!
Early North Carolina Folklore-Brown.
Early Quaker Migrations to the North Carolina Colony
Army Register-all wars.
In addition to the above, a great number of local and county
histories have been examined, besides genealogies innumerable,
lineage books of the various patriotic societies, social registers,
encyclopaedias of history and biography, to. say nothing of public
and private records which have been brought to the attention of
the author, either by direct search or through correspondence.

194
 1052 Euclid Avenue
Berkeley 1 Califo~nia
March 5, 1960

Hello, Bob and Dorothy,

Well, you have surprised me DOUBLEI-you have baby and you have
named him YAHCEII

Nobody in our whole family had the courage to name a boy Yancey. Steuben,
my preacher brother, said:"! lived in fear of decapitation for 21 years
and I had no intention of selling myself into future bondage agin to a- son
oJ: mine! n Now Lois ldll probably get. a bigger laugh out of this than you!

I have been asked by my daughters to write a sketch of-Yancey and Nancy--and

I might do it yet, and if I do your son will get a powerful urge from it "to
knock the feathers out of everything he strikes a.t. 11 1 I do--even now, when
I have a job t.o do that is a little too hefty for ine at my age(?????), I just
think of him, and every sinew responds to_a "C-3harp Tension"!

I suppose now in this ATOMIC AGE it's !!SAFE" to name a little baby, Yancey
but it hasn't been for the last 75 years.

I would not give a wrong impression of my !ather. !or he did more kindly things
!or his neighbors than aey man I ever heard of, and he had more friends than
any'b(ldy-ma.ybe-one reason-they were afraid ~ to bel '
He was a Republican i:ii the deep Democratic south and even got elect!!d to public
office now and then--County treasurer, county surveyor, justice of the peace,
etc. He taught school winters and electioneered and farmed summers-and fox
hunted NIGHTS!---a.nd seined the creeks for fish after every big rain, when the
ground was teo wet to plough--maybe partly to be sure that we boys never got
a minute to rest! Sundays, everybody HAD to go to'"'Suiiday School and Church,
and if we walked home with the girls Sunday night, seven miles the opposite
direction, _it was 0 K>- just so long as we got home Monday morning by sun-up
to go to ploughing! -

When."he was around we were under what one could call "INTE!~SIVE TRAINING" , ,
About the only release from thia "pressure" was when he went on a 11 speakin'
trip", Mother would then say1 "Now that he's gone, let's all take a deep
breath", Generally ~en he came home he brought some kind of new "pet" !or
the family. -

- EVerything he tackled, he figured it was TIME WASTED i f he didn't Finish it

in TEN miriutes flat.! Accomplishment was the whole thing; how it lookek after
he got it done was insignificant-the very opposite of Mother's style{'

., Now i f your Yancey takes after the one! knew, he 1 ill need all the space in
Arizona--but you are close to Texas, and that might be where you will have
to move!

Congratulations, good wishes, and may God bless you and help you to direct
his boundless energies in the paths of righteousness,

Your Uncle Caspar Cox

 . \ ) i ()o' I ~~- 1/\ {)
~V I l '-~,
. . . . . -~ ' . . I 4 t;t ::~f4-
~ / ~) {
September 25, 1974
Brothei-s, Sisters, Cousins, Et Al.,
Greetil:l.gs!
This letter. is a little unusual. but read on.
. . !

of "Uncle Isham Cox", wlio was Eunice ("Granny")

Ei.illice.cox, you know. lived as a widow 50 years
'"'"'~--~,._ Harmon Cp:i, diecJ.. A son, Yancey Cox, .married Nancy
;ybu k:zl_oW an this
d6x is buried here at Rocky Ri,ver, the Meeting we are now
se aiong with hiswife, Lavinia Brower Cox,
Isham Cox was a. truly great man in his day! a minister, a public se:r-
vant, and an astute business man.
In 1859 -~vhefi New Garden Boarding Sc:p.ool was about to close on accou."l.t
of a great indebtedness, Isham,Cox became financial agent. Utilizing
his great pe:rsonal energy, courage and spiri~ual dedication, he ac-
complished the imposs;Lble, He had the debt largely cleared by 1863 His
achievement has been called "the mi:racle of I shan\ Cox." New Garden
Boa:rding School was saved, and consequently Guilford College,
During the Civil War he a~d others ihtercied~d with Confederate offi-
cials in behalf of Quakers who cbuld not,take up guns against their
fellow countrymen. But this is a long story;
It was Isham Cox's logical reasoning which persuaded the Baltimore
Association after the Civil War to channel most of its relief efforts
for Carolina into rebuilding schools, - He was Clerk of N c Yearl M-'-
two oerms: 1875 to 1878, and 1880 to 1884. Y vg.

About 50 yea?s ago a rather large marker was placed in the Rocky River
Cemetery. Unfortunately it was built of white flint rocks - a popular
c1.1s-Gom in some places in the 1920's. Now the mortar is crumbling, and
at a:.'ly time the marble insert could fall out, and the whole thing become
a pile of rubble.
We should like to see something done about the situation. I don't
know any of Isham Cox's direct descendants - if any exist,
As a tribute to Isham Cox, and to Eunice Cox, I have 1ooked into the
possibility of getting a durable gr:o,ni te marker place<l. in the cemetery
to replace the crumbling mortar and white flint r~taining the mar-
ble slab containing names and dates.
The cost will be ~/150 .00 as presently ascertained, plus incidentals.
Mary Edith and I have allocated $100.00 for this :purpose, and will see
that the balance is taken care of if necessary, But we thought you
would really want to know about it, and maybe share in the project a
r. _bi ~P' ~ence thi~}etter oJ inf~_:mation.
c/y...V,y.-o<. ~; - )C0~__z; ~= ;z.,;.
~",..-.../(Yz:-rr~~ ;;-v~;z;f'_~ ~vJ... Si~~}Y,
6/i:.~~? :- ~t--~-~'nshaw