Recollection and Reminiscence
H. Meade Smith Sr. Author
Introduction
One of our great authors and poets, I believe it was
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow that penned these lines.
"Life is real, Life is earnest and the
grave is not its goal; Dust thou art and to dust returneth was not spoken of the
soul; All enjoyment and all sorrow wends its endless way; That the tomorrow will
find us farther than today."
From Frederick W. Robertson, we have these wonderful
words of wisdom and thoughtfulness;
"Confident Living"
"Home is the one place in all the world where
hearts are sure of each other. It is the place of confidence, it is the
place where we tear off that mask of guarded and suspicious coldness which the
world forces us to wear in self defense, and where we pour out the unreserved
communications of full and confiding hearts. It is the spot where
expressions of tenderness gush out without any sensation of awkwardness and
without any sensation of dread or ridicule."
When one reaches the sunset of life, one has the time to ponder over the things,
the places, and the people who have made a great contribution to one's life.
In the writing
of this narrative as the facts and events that
are relevant to it are true, and they are
based on things and events that actually
happened. In my writing of it I do not
like to use a statistical biographical
approach, as it seems rather cold
In my writing I
like to use the kind of writing as of a novel,
laying stress on the humorous side of the
events that have been told. In writing
in this way the story as it unfolds, is
much more enjoyable, and the person reading it
can in their mind's eye see them as a
spectator of the events described. In so
doing one is painting a word picture that can
be enjoyed with great pleasure.
Among the many
things that stand out, the three that are most
important are. The first is the beauty
of nature, the second thing that stands out
that has a great influence over one's life is
the church with its influence, environment,
and standards that do a great deal in the
controlling of what kind of a life one
lives. Perhaps the greatest of all are
the people that are members of a family.
And there are also others that one comes in
close contact with, being associated within
the church and other walks of life.
As one looks
back in retrospect on the experiences that he
has had he cannot help but have the desire to
relive some of them and have the enjoyment all
over again.
Part
One
My childhood as I now remember it.
The place where
I was born was about five miles from
Fitzgerald, Georgia, in Ben Hill County.
It was my Grandfather Swafford's home place,
and to me it was a place of beauty; It was an
old style southern country home; in the house
there were four large rooms in the front part
of the house, two rooms on either side of a
large hall that went down the center, from the
front veranda (porch) to the back porch.
This front veranda had white banisters around
it, and the back porch had a deep well at one
end. From this back porch a covered
walkway that was some thirty feet long led to
the kitchen and dining room. The house
was built in this way for fire protection, if
a fire occurred the walkway could be torn down
and the part of the house not on fire could be
saved.
The four rooms
in the front part of the house were three
bedrooms and the largest was the sitting room,
(today everyone calls it either the family
room or the living room). The sitting
room was about sixteen by eighteen feet.
At one end of the room was a large
fireplace. A bed could be on the hearth
sideways, and they could burn four foot logs
in it to make a fire. Grandma and Mother
told me that when I was born the bed was
placed on the hearth in front of the
fireplace.
In the winter
time the family would gather in the sitting
room in front of the fireplace in the evening
after the day's work had been finished.
While the old folks would be talking, us
children got a lot of fun roasting peanuts,
and chincapins, (chincapins were wild
chestnuts) that grew in the hedgerows next to
the fields on the farm. There was a
large hedgerow along the lane that led to the
house, and we could gather them by the bucket
full. And at other times we would get
popping corn and make popcorn balls by making
syrup candy and pouring it over the popped
corn and when it cooled we rolled it into
balls.
This is where
we would listen to the old folks spin their
tales about the adventures that they had been
through. And it was here in the evening
where they made the plans for the next days
work. This is where so many of the
events that I describe were told when I was a
youth.
There were four
large oak trees that shaded the house, and in
the front yard were two large gardenia bushes,
(we called them cape jasmines) they were on
either side of the front steps. There
were also large red and white rose bushes in
the front yard, and at the end of the front
porch was yellow running rose on a
trellis. Also there were beds of many
different kinds of flowers, and these were
Grandma Swaffords's pride and joy, for she
really loved flowers.
Between the
house and stock barn were two large mulberry
trees, one red, and one white. These
mulberry trees were where the guinea fowls
roosted at night, and nothing could move in
the yard without them making such a racket it
would awaken everyone. Grandpa said the
guinea fowls were better than watch dogs for
nothing could move without you knowing about
it. The guinea foraged in the fields in
the day but they would always come to these
mulberry trees every night to roost, and they
would hide their nest in the fields to lay and
set.
I remember the
time when a pair of hoot owls made their nest
in the gable of the barn, and between them and
the guineas you had better forget about
getting any sleep, for every night you would
be awakened by the fuss that they made.
Grandpa fixed that though for he nailed a
board over the hole where the owls entered the
barn, and then they went back to the woods to
make their nest.
The house was
built on a hill and it overlooked the orchards
and fields. Across the fields you could
see Otter Creek that ran through the back of
the farm, there were sweet gum trees and oak
trees lining the creek bank. This creek
was where many messes of fresh fish were
caught, and we children liked to fish there
whenever we had an opportunity. They
would not let us go there to fish when there
was no one to go with us, for they were afraid
that we might fall into the creek. When we
were fishing there one time, I remember that
Grandpa caught a large turtle in the creek,
and when he had dressed it he had a large dish
pan full of turtle meat. People used to
say that the turtle meat tasted like beef,
pork and chicken as well as fish.
Personally to me it all tasted like a
turtle. It was good though and after it
was cooked all of us liked it.
Grandpa, when
he had finished dressing the turtle, carried
the shell to an ant bed and left it there
until the ants had cleaned out the
inside. Every time he would clean a
turtle he would do this, for after the ants
cleaned it he would sand the inside smooth and
he would make a tray out of it. He made
the large ones into bread trays.
The small turtle shells made nice ornamental
trays that could be used in many ways.
At the edge of
the marsh along the creek, there would grow in
the spring a bed of mushrooms, and we went
with him to gather them and he would show us
how to tell which of them was good to eat and
which were the poison kind. The good
ones had what they called a veil on them which
grew from the stem to the outer edge, and as
they grew this veil would break and the gills
would be a pastel pink, but the ones not fit
to eat didn't have a veil and the gills were
either white, black, or a purple
red. When you knew this, it was not
difficult to tell them apart.
Grandma would
fry them in butter and they were good.
The only fault was that the season for them
did not last long. In this marsh we
caught bull frogs and the frog legs also were
good when they were fried in butter.
Also in the spring there would be beautiful
swamp lilies, which were a bright purple in
color, and when we were there we children
would gather a large bunch to bring to Grandma
and mother as both of them loved all kinds of
beautiful flowers.
On the other
side of the creek was a large stand of pine
trees. It was a beautiful sight,
reaching their branches up to the sky, these
majestic original pines that you can hardly
find anywhere today, and they were a sight of
rare beauty that had taken a great number of
years to grow. Under these trees were
many kinds of wild flowers and ferns, and with
all this it was a place very beautiful to see.
Adding to the
beauty of this place was red cardinals,
mocking birds, blue jays, red headed
woodpeckers and a great number of other kinds
of birds. And there were squirrels,
rabbits and other kinds of the small animals
there too. All of these called this
lovely place their home. And when we
could us children would go there to see
them. As I look back in my mind's eye,
this must have been like the Garden of Eden
where Adam and Eve lived. Now as we
think back this beauty did not just happen,
but it was part of God's plan of creation, its
purpose was to enable man to be closer drawn
to him, and to make men appreciate all the
things that God has blessed them with.
These woods
were the happy hunting grounds for us
children, for it was here that we came to pick
huckleberries, blueberries, blackberries, wild
grapes, plums and crab apples. Though
there was plenty of fruit in the orchards,
such as apples, peaches, pears, and figs,
along with strawberries and dewberries, yet it
always seems to me that the jelly and
preserves made from the wild fruit had a
better flavor, just my imagination I guess,
but they did have a different flavor. We
had many a good meal topped off with a desert
made from these fruits and
berries.
Anyone who has
not had the privilege and experience of the
wonderful times enjoyed in Mother Nature's
yard missed some of the better things of
life. And this was a wonderful place in
which to have lived, and I don't believe that
a nicer place could have been found.
There was nothing left out that one with an
eye for God created beauty could have
desired. When one thinks about it, it
makes one wonder what people are thinking
about when they desire to destroy the beauty
of nature indiscriminately without giving much
thought to what they are doing.
Even with all
its beauty there was plenty of hard work on
the farm to keep one busy; thinking about
this, I wonder if the main cause of trouble
with our youth at this time is that they have
too much idle time on their hands, and have
nothing to occupy their minds, and some kind
of work to keep their hands busy. I think the
old cliche still holds true, "An idle
mind is the devil's work shop, and idle hands
are the tools that he uses."
On the farm
there was always something that needed to be
done. In the summer months wood would
have to be cut and stacked for use in the
winter season. There was hay to be cut
and stacked, oats and the corn to be gathered
for stock feed in the winter. Even the
women and the children were busy preparing
fruit and vegetables to can and process for
the family food in the winter months ahead
when there was a shortage of vegetables on the
farm in the garden. The children had a
part in these things that were being done: we
picked peas and beans to can, shucked corn and
cleaned it, and helped in many other
ways. Everyone pitched in and did their
part.
As I think back
there were many humourous things that happened
even though we were busy at the chores that
had to be done. I remember a time when
we were at the plum thicket gathering plums to
make jelly that my Uncle Guy stepped into a
yellow jacket's nest. It sure was a
funny sight seeing him jumping around and
slapping his pants legs trying to kill the
little varmints, as he called them, and he had
to take off his pants to finally get rid of
them. When a plum tree was dead the
stump rotted and it was in the stump hole that
the yellow jackets would make their nest and
sometimes a cow or hog would get into one of
them and the yellow jackets would sure put a
hump on it.
And another
time that I remember was when the young dog,
which we had, got into a mess. He
was romping and playing down near the plum
thicket where the bee hives were, and in his
play he overturned one of the hives and the
bees set him on fire. That puppy left
there running as fast as he could go and
jumped in the creek to get rid of them.
That evening when the bees had settled down,
Grandpa went down and set the hive back
up. Grandpa had a way with bees; when
they would swarm, he would reach in the swarm
and get the queen in his hand, being careful
not to mash it or hurt it in any way, then he
would carry them and put them in a new hive. I
have seen him do this and he put them in the
hive and would never get a sting. He
said the reason a person would get stung was
that the bees sensed that you were afraid of
them. And you know after that there was
no way that you could get that puppy near them
bee hives again.
Even with all
the work Grandpa had to do on the farm he
always had the time to be with us children and
show us a pleasant time when we visiting him
there. He always said that there were
other things in life that needed to be done
besides working and trying to make a
dollar. All of my forefathers that I
know anything about had a close attachment to
the church. All my grandparents were
very deeply religious. Some of them were
of the Orthodox Quaker faith; their
Grandparents came over from England with Wm.
Penn and settled in Pennsylvania. Some
of them were of Welch Protestant stock,
and settled in North Carolina. They came
to the colonies to escape persecution by
the Church of England. And still others
were of Scotch and English decent that settled
in New York state.
` We were
raised under the influence of the
church. I have heard many tell of their
conversion
experience, but for myself, I must say that I
never had that kind of experience, for I have
been a part of a religious life and a
Christian home as far back as I can
remember. The church has always been an
integral part of our family life. The
first thing that I can remember was when I was
about two and a half years of age was my
Grandmother rocking me in her lap, she was
trying to get me to sleep as I was fretful,
wanting my mother to tuck me into bed.
Grandma told me later about it, as to why my
mother could not come to me. She said my
brother Guy was about to make his entry into
this old sinful world, and she was trying to
get me to sleep so she could be with my
mother. I remember her rocking me and
singing to me but then I did not know why I
could not have my mother.
As I said
before the church influence had always been in
all our family life. We were raised
under the influence of the church, and all our
family life and social life was church
oriented. There was always family
worship and prayer every day. When the
evening meal was finished, and the dining room
and kitchen were cleared up and the dishes put
away, we all gathered in the sitting room for
our evening worship.
There was one
thing about it I will always remember, that
there was in the center of the sitting room
was a beautiful embroidered cloth. A
large oil lamp with a large chimney, a very
beautiful lamp, and the chimney was embossed
with flowers and butterflies. I remember
that when the chimney was broken how Grandma
cried about it, for the lamp had been brought
with them when they came to Fitzgerald from
Illinois. Grandpa tried to find another
one but was unable too.
On the table
beside the lamp was Grandpa's family Bible,
and on it was Grandpa's reading glasses.
(They called them specks then, short for
spectacles.) Grandpa would read from the
Bible and then all of us there would
pray. Grandma would lead the prayer and
Grandpa then would close it. All of us
there would pray, even the little children if
only they could say, God bless Papa and Mama,
and Grandpa and Grandma. Every Sunday we
were taken to church and Sunday School by Papa
and Mama. In the little United Brethren
Church that we attended, Papa was the chairman
of the Board of Trustees and Sunday School
superintendent, and Mother had charge of the
children's department.
Before we came
into Fitzgerald to live, I remember when we
went to church when I was young, we all went
to church in Grandpa's wagon. Grandpa
and Papa would sit on the wagon seat, and
grandma and Mama would have chairs in the back
of the wagon to sit on. And the children would
sit in the wagon body on a quilt. One
Sunday my cousin Mildred and I decided that we
would rather walk than ride, so we pulled off
our shoes and stockings when we came to Otter
creek to cross and when we reached the church
we put them back on.
In the country
in those days, the church service was held on
the first Sunday and the third Sunday of the
month, and Sunday School was held at three
o'clock. On this Sunday when Church
services were over, as country people would
do, they would stay a short while and talk and
visit for many of them had not seen each other
since last church Sunday. They would
drive home and have dinner and the children
always came back in the afternoon for the
Sunday School.
On this
particular Sunday my cousin and I left walking
back home as it was only about two miles from
the church; we left the others at the church
and when we came to the creek we again pulled
off our shoes and stockings and waded back
across. About the time we had
arrived at the house a bad storm broke, and
everybody at the church then started for
home. When Papa, Mama, Grandpa and
Grandma reached the creek it was out of its
banks, and Papa and Grandpa had to take
the lines and tie the wagon body to the
running gear and swim the horse across the
creek. They kept on coming as they did
not know if Mildred and I had reached home
before the storm broke.
When the storm
broke Mildred and I were in the kitchen trying
to find something to eat, for it was raining
and we were hungry and did not know how soon
Papa and Mama would get home. As we were
eating the storm broke and when it hit our
house it split one of the oak trees and half
of it fell across the back porch roof. This
almost frightened Mildred and me out of our
senses, for we were afraid that the whole
house would be blown away. When Papa and
Mama, Grandpa and Grandma got there we were in
the corner of the kitchen, back of the door to
the dining room, we were crying and almost
scared out of our wits. I never heard of
anyone being hurt but the storm did a lot of
damage to houses and barns. Grandpa and
Papa had to put a new roof on the back porch
and some of the lot fence at the barn was
down.
Some time later when Grandpa was going into
Fitzgerald for supplies, we saw where the center of the storm had struck.
The wind had cut a swath through the woods that was about a hundred yards wide
and almost two miles long. The tops of trees had been broken off about
twenty feet from the ground. Grandpa showed me where the wind had blown so
hard that it had blown the pine needles through some of the small limbs of the
trees and into some of the larger ones, A tornado wind can do a great many
things that look almost impossible to one when he sees them.
Until I was old enough to start to school, I
spent most of my time with Grandpa and Grandma because my brother Guy was
in very bad health and my sister was a baby and mother did not have enough time
to tend to all of us. When Guy was just a little more than one year old
and just starting to walk he had spinal meningitis and it was a long time before
he was able to walk after he recovered from it. He was about three years
of age before he again started to walk.
I was about six years of age when Grandma Pemberton
died. Grandpa and Grandma Pemberton had moved into town because of
Grandma's health so they would be closer to the doctor. They had their
home on West Lemon Street and it was there that Grandma died. Grandpa
Swafford was wounded when he was in the army, a bullet had shattered his foot
and it began to give him considerable trouble so he sold the farm and moved into
town. He built himself a house at the corner of West Sultana Drive and
Longstreet St. When it was finished Grandpa Pemberton lived with them.
Because of his wound in the war, the government gave
him a small disability pension check the first of each month. When this
check came he would go into town and cash it. After he had bought what he
needed in the way of supplies he deposited the rest of it in the bank so it
would not be lost or stolen. There were times when he went to town and
cashed his check he would buy only two things, one was a ten-pound bag of green
coffee and his chewing tobacco.
Grandpa raised almost everything on the farm that we
had need of, fruit vegetables, meat, meal and syrup. And he had cows and
chickens which provided us with all the eggs, milk and butter that we
needed. I remember him saying when he saw some of the farmers who planted
cotton on all of their land, and then borrowed money from the bank to live on,
was what Grandpa Swafford said was the height of foolishness of the worst
kind. He said if a man could not raise the food for himself and his family
there was no use of his wasting his time on a farm. He always said there
was more money in sweet potatoes at fifty cents a bushel, then there was in
cotton at fifty cents a pound. The expense of the raising and gathering
the cotton, and the cost of ginning ate all of the profit a small farmer could
make on it. When they sold their cotton and then paid the banker they were
lucky if anything was left for their work.
In those days the church was the center of the
social and community life, and I sometimes wonder as I think back on it, that in
this day of invention and scientific advancement, that perhaps we have in many
ways lost a whole lot more than we have gained. As I think about it, I
wonder if a statement that Christ made, (recorded in Matthew Chapter 17,
Verse. 26;) ("For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world
and lose his own soul?") ("Or what then can a man give in exchange for
his soul?") Is not this in this day and time much more applicable, because
of the more temptation to regress then in those ancient days? In every way
and on every side we find then the main interest of most men is attaining some
kind of earthly advantage or earthly treasure.
The first place that I remember living at was on
West Orange St. and after Grandpa and Grandma Swafford moved to town and built a
house on West Sultana Drive, Papa moved us into a place across the Drive from
them which had ten acres of land so as to have a pace for the cows, chickens and
pigs that were on Grandpa's farm. I started to school when we lived on
West Orange St., but the next summer was the time we moved to West Sultana
Drive.
When we lived on Orange St. was when I started to
Sunday School at the United Brethren Church when I was about five years of
age. Our class had twelve boys of about my age, and Mrs. Nelson was our
teacher. They never advanced our class at promotion time; we boys
raised such an objection that they let Mrs. Nelson keep the class. In
other words they promoted the teacher instead of us boys. When I left
Fitzgerald when I was fifteen Mrs. Nelson was still our teacher. All of us
boys loved her very much and she made a great impact on our lives.
Mrs. Nelson would have us boys out to the farm on
many a week end, and her grown sons would take us fishing and swimming.
And when they were in season we had a lot of good times at cane grindings and
water mellon cuttings. These were good times, for us youngsters, and we
were under the best of Christian care and there never was any worry at home
because we had the best supervision.
Mr. Nelson ran his farm, dug wells, and moved houses
to make his living. His grown boys did most of the farming and the
other chores around the farm. Mr. Nelson and his boys were the greatest,
for providing an enjoyable time for us boys. The parents of us boys never
had any qualms about letting us go to the Nelson farm for they knew that we were
being looked after by some of the best people to guide us and direct us.
Some of us boys were in the youth's choir, and the
choir practice kept part of our evening hours occupied. And the young
people had parties on a Friday night along with our choir practice as
there was no school on Saturdays, for we did not have to get up our school work
on Friday evenings. And as I give my thoughts to these times as all our
youth activities were centered around the church and most of them were apart of
church activities; I have come to the conclusion that our life was far more
enjoyable than that of the young people of today with all their sport cars,
shows and the other activities that they take part in. And one thing for
sure, I know there was a lot less juvenile delinquency then there is
today. The children as a whole loved and respected their parents then a
great deal more.
When I was a young boy there was a nine o'clock
curfew on every night, and all youths less than sixteen years of age had to be
home and off the streets unless their parents had given them a note saying that
they were being sent on an errand for them. If they did not have a note
the police would pick them up and hold them at the city hall until the next
morning when an officer would go to their home and notify their parents to be at
police court to answer to why these youth had violated curfew the night
before. If they had slipped away from home without the knowledge of their
parents, then it was up to the parents to be the one to punish them, and assure
the court that they would do all they could to make their children obey the
curfew law.
I remember one time when Mr. Brown's boys were
caught by the police for running around after curfew hours. When the
officer came and asked Mr. Brown if he knew that his boys were being held at the
city hall for curfew violation, he was surprised, for the evening before the
boys had gone upstairs to their room to get up the school lessons for the next
day. After the officer had told him they went up to the boys room and
found that their bed had not been slept on and the window to their room was
open. I remember what they told me the judge had said to Mr. Brown,
"Mr. Brown do you want me to appoint a deputy to attend to the boys, or
rather would you like to attend to this matter and do the job
yourself." Mr. Brown answered the judge saying; "Your Honor I
want to attend to this matter myself if you don't mind."
Mr. Brown then escorted the boys out onto the court
house lawn, he then made them bend over a wagon tongue, and then he gave them a
good tanning with a piece of trace leather. Then when they returned home
he made the boys show him how they had left the house without him seeing
them. The boys showed their father how they had opened a window and slid
down a tree that grew next to the window. This tree was so close to the house
that it was not much trouble for the boys to climb onto it and slide down.
Mr. Brown then cut the tree down, and made the boys
cut it up into fire wood. When they had finished cutting the tree and
stacking the firewood he told them, "I hope this puts an end to this kind
of foolishness, when you are supposed to be busy getting up your lessons for the
school." After that I never knew of either of Mr. Brown's boys ever
being in any kind of trouble again. The Rev. Mr. Brown in talking about it
later I was told said; "It reminded him of the Proverb in the Bible,"
"Spare the rod and spoil the child, " but he had an addition to make
to it, "a little piece of trace leather can settle a whole lot of
problems."
There were times after he moved onto town that
during school vacation Grandpa would take some of the boys on a week's camping
trip down to the river at the mouth of Otter creek, and we would have a great
time fishing and swimming. Papa would take us down to where we were to
make camp on a Sunday afternoon, and on the following Saturday he would come
back and bring us home. There was always for or five of us boys that went
on the camping trips, and we caught enough fish so each of the boys would have a
mess to take back home with them. I remember on one of these trips that we
run out of meal and flour on a Friday, and for Friday and Saturday it was a diet
of fish without any bread to go with them.
On other times some of us boys would go to
Clifford's grandfather's fish camp on the river; I remember one time when we got
to his camp we had a cloud burst, and the river rose three feet in an hour, and
the water ran through the tent up to the bottom of the cots. But by next
morning it cleared up and we had a lovely week from then on. Clifford's
grandfather lived on the river every summer and caught fish to sell to anyone
who wanted them for a fish fry. He was a Civil War Veteran and after Mrs.
Kay died, he would spend the summers on the river, for he was an outdoor type of
man and he didn't like to be cooped up any more than he could help. But in
the winter he would be town at Clifford's house where they could look after him.
As I think back, I remember many humorous events
that happened along the way. One time when Clifford and I were spending
Friday night at David's house, (us boys used to go to each other's home on a
Friday night and spend the night). On this particular occasion we had made plans
to go to the F.O.B. Railroad trestle fishing the next morning, having fixed our
lines and dug our fish bait, so after supper we sat and talked a while and then
turned in for the night. Clifford and I were on the bed with David,
it being large enough to hold all three of us. After Clifford and David
fell asleep, but I was still awake when David stood up in bed, got up on the
foot board and dove off on the floor like he was diving into the swimming
hole. When he hit the floor, he made a great racket and his mother and
father came running to see what had happened. He didn't get hurt much
though, his shoulder was bruised and he had some skin knocked off his
head. When he came to his senses, he said he was dreaming that he was at
the swimming hole. His mother told us that some times in his sleep he
would get up and walk around, but this was the first time he had been hurt doing
it. We sure teased him about it but it did not stop him from going fishing
the next morning.
One time when I was about seven years of age, my
cousin's Doris and Cleah came by our house and invited me to go with them to the
picture show. My Uncle Guy Swafford owned and run the first moving picture
theater in Fitzgerald. That day they had a picture where the train robbers
were chasing the train on horseback, and when the picture of the train came
toward the front it looked like to me that the train was going to run over
us. I let out a yell and got up and began to run out of the theater for it
frightened me. There was a lot of kidding on my cousin's part, but it was
my first picture show and I being only seven did not realize that it was only on
the picture screen and could not hit me. When they told mother and Papa,
they got a big laugh about it.
There were times when I was a small boy that I would
go to town with my Grandpa Swafford on a Saturday morning, and he would go to a
place next to the fire house where the fir engines were. At that time two
fire engines were there, and they had two teams of beautiful horses to pull
them. One team was black and the others were gray. I thought they
were the prettiest horses I had ever seen. There were four men on duty
there all the time and when a fire broke out, they hitched up the horses and
drove to where the fire was. The city was divided into four wards and the
whistle at the cotton mill would blow the signal for them to know in which ward
the fire was. One blast for the first ward, two blast together for the
second, etc. The rest of the firemen were a volunteer department. Mr.
Wilkerson the fire Chief's son was in my class at school and while Grandpa and
the other Civil War Veterans were playing pitching horse shoes, Clifford
Wilkerson and me and some other boys would shoot marbles, or play at some other
game.
As I look back on all these enjoyable times that I
had in my youth, as I said before it makes me wish that at times that I could go
back and relive my youth and enjoy it again. There's a great many more
experience that I could relate, for when I was young. We always had things
to do to occupy ourselves with that did not have a bad effect on our lives.
RECOLLECTION AND REMINISCENCE
Part Two
As I remember my Grandparents
"Love" Love cannot be bought, love
cannot be forced, Love cannot be coaxed and teased, It comes from heaven,
unasked and unsought." By Pearl Buck.
There are a great many people that did not have the
opportunity to know their grandparents. But it was my good fortune to have
known, and had the love and affection of five of my grandparents. All of
them were wonderful people, deeply affectionate for each other, and they were
loved and revered by all of us. In every instance their home and their families
were the central part of their lives, all loving and respecting each other.
My great-grandfather Pemberton and my
great-grandmother Pemberton were of the Orthodox Quaker faith, and their
forefathers came to Pennsylvania from England. A great many of their
ancestors came over to the Americas with Wm. Penn and when they arrived they
settled in what is now the State of Pennsylvania. The farm of my Great
grandfather's parents, (I was told by Grandma Swafford), was where the Broad
Street Railway depot is now located in Philadelphia at the corner of Broad and
Market Streets.
Grandfather Pemberton was a tall austere looking
man, but his looks belied his true character, for in truth he was a very loving
and affectionate person. Grandmother Pemberton was a small woman, and in
her later years when I knew her, and as I remember back on it. She reminded me
in a great way of the painting of Whistler's Mother. I remember her so
well as she sat at the corner of the fire place in her kitchen, in her little
sewing rocker smoking a clay pipe with a reed stem.
Until they moved into Fitzgerald from Grandpa's
farm, she still did her cooking on the fire place. To those who are not
familiar with this kind of cooking, there was a crane that swung into the fire
place with hooks on it on which to hang the pots and kettles. Also there
was a spider plate which had four legs, one on each corner for it to stand
on. This plate had a hole in the center over which was placed the skillet
when they wanted to fry cook. At the time skillets were called spiders,
from which the plate got its name.
In the corner of the fire place was a Dutch oven in
which bread was baked. The Dutch oven was a large deep vessel with three
legs and a cover. It was placed in a bed of hot coals, and when it became
hot. The bread was placed in it. The cover was then placed on the
oven and covered with hot coals. This was the way that cooking was done by
the pioneer women and our great-grandmothers. But don't let this method of
cooking fool you, for these old ladies cooked a great many good meals this
way. I have been to Grandmother Pemberton's house when I was a little boy
and she always had a good treat that she had cooked for me to enjoy.
After the war in the West with the Indians was over,
and the West began to open up, Grandfather's and Grandmother Pemberton's parents
disposed of their holdings in Pennsylvania to raise money to purchase wagons and
supplies for their journey west. Some of the people sold their farms and
others only leased them. It was because of unfavorable conditions in
Pennsylvania that made them decide to join with other Quakers that had already
migrated to Ohio Territory and had settled there. They made this decision
because they were being persecuted, made sport of and ridiculed because of their
strict moral method of living.
Grandfather Pemberton said that the Quakers did not
believe in any kind of personal adornment such as jewelry or any kind of fancy
or revealing clothing. In their meeting houses there was a bench on the
platform on which the Elders sat, and down the middle of the meeting house was a
partition. This partition was about head high, and on one side were the
benches where the men sat and on the other was one where the women sat.
When Grandfather told this I asked what they did that for, and this is what he
said, "men and women have enough time to make eyes and court with each
other, and they did not need to do it in the Lord's house."
It was in early fall when they arrived at the
settlement where the others who had come before they had made their homes and
barns for their stock. When they arrived there was not time to build homes
and barns before winter set in. So they had to double up with their
friends and relatives and spend the winter with them. Though the Indian Wars
were over only for a short time, there were renegades that still raided and
tried to run off the stock, and steal supplies from them every chance that they
got. It was a continuing thing for the men to have to stand guard all the
time to keep them from it.
After the winter snows had melted and spring had
come, several of the families, because of having to stand guard against the
Indians, and because that word had come to them about Nebraska Territory where
some other of their friends had settled, decided to go there and join up with
them. The word that they had received was that the land was open, and to
make it their farms they did not have to clear away timber and grub up
stumps. The report said that the land was very fertile and that they could
raise good crops there.
Grandfather Pemberton and his family, and several
other families left Ohio Territory in early March, but when they reach Indiana
Territory the rivers were so swollen with the spring thaw that they had to make
camp and wait more than two weeks for the rivers to recede. After
that they did not have any other trouble until they reached the Mississippi
River. The river was so wide and deep that they could not ford it.
So then they had to go upstream some fifty miles where a man and his boys had a
ferry that could take them across. This ferry was made of logs with
planking nailed to the logs, and a guard rail on each side to keep the wagons
and horses from getting into the river.
To operate the ferry a strong rope was tied to each
end of the ferry, and when the ferry was loaded the rope was paid out on the
Illinois side and was taken in on the Iowa side of the river. The river
current carried the ferry across. This is the way that the wagon was able
to cross the Mississippi.
Grandfather and Grandmother Pemberton told of many
things and experiences that happened to them while they were on their
way. And these many tales were how many times we children enjoyed the
evenings, as in those days there was no radio or television. Listening to
other people tell of what they had seen and where they had been was the height
of our endearment.
Grandmother would tell how they cooked over their
camp fires, and though they could get plenty of game for meat, there were no
vegetables most of the time. She told how they would gather wild
greens, sheep sorrel, lams quarter, dandelion, pepper grass, chickweed, and wild
onions and a number of others that I do not remember now. When they came
across them, they would pick berries and other wild fruit to eat. Coffee
at that time was almost non existent when you left the cities in the east, so
they parched meal bran and sweet acorns to make a brew out of it to take the
place of coffee.
Grandfather Pemberton would tell of fishing and
making snares to catch small game when the wagon train stopped for any
reason. When they had to wait in Indiana Territory for the two weeks, he
spent a great deal of time at it to conserve there supplies so they would not
run short before they reached Nebraska Territory. With all the delay that
they had it was late fall when they reached Nebraska Territory, and again there
was no time to build houses and stock barns before the winter set in. So
they had to do again as they had done in Ohio Territory. They had to again
double up with their kin and friends for the winter. With so many more
people needing shelter, they had to use the meeting house for some
of them to have a place to sleep.
To get timber to build their houses and stock barns,
Grandfather said, it had to be hauled from the river that was quite some
distance away. He said it would take two days travel each way to bring a
load, so one load a week was about all they could haul. He said the people
there had taken several months to get enough to build. And another thing
they had to face, for on the prairie there were no trees for fire wood either,
and it had to be gotten the same way. When there was no work that was
pressing the boys would take the wagons and gather buffalo chips, (dried dung
that the sun had dried), they had to use this also for fuel to heat their homes
and to cook with. Grandfather seeing all the work that had to be done to
build their house and barns, he decided that in the spring they would go back to
Illinois Territory with another family that had also decided to return.
When they first arrived in Nebraska Territory, the
settlers that had come before them would welcome the new arrivals with a big
dinner. They called these new arrivals the new people, and they would give
them a big welcome for they wanted to learn all the news from the outside.
For these feasts there were plenty of meat, deer, buffalo beef, as they called
it, and plenty of small game as rabbits, prairie chicken and quail were
plentiful, so they did not lack for something to eat.
As was the procedure when the tables were set the
grown folk would eat at the first table and when they had finished a second
table was set for the children. While Grandfather and Grandmother were
sitting at the table one of the little boys that was already living there came
to the door and called to his mother, and when she asked him what was it that he
wanted, he said to his mother, please don't let the new people eat all of the
rattlesnake meat as us children want some of it too.
When Grandmother Pemberton heard this, she got up
and left the table and went outside. When Grandfather saw her leave and
noting that she seemed distressed about something, he followed her to find out
if there was something wrong. When he asked her what was the matter, she
said to him, "William did you hear what that little boy said to his
mother?". Grandfather then said, yes he had heard it, what of it,
there did not seem to be anything wrong with what he said. Then he told
her the story about the Apostle Peter, (recorded in Acts of the Apostles,
Chapter 10;) where when he fell asleep and in a trance he saw a sheet let down
from heaven with all manners of animals, birds and creeping things in it, and
was told to kill and eat.
Grandfather always said it was as great a sin to
waste as it was to steal, and that people had to use whatever the good Lord had
provided for them and be thankful for it. But Grandmother would have no
part of this explanation. Grandmother told him, I don't care what you say
about it William, I don't believe the good Lord intended us to eat snakes.
When I was a little boy, I heard Grandfather tell this story a number of times,
and every time he would tell it, Grandmother would say William, (and I never
heard her call him anything else but William, for that was the Quaker way, they
never used any pet names as we do today), William you ought to be ashamed of
yourself, you know very well that the good Lord did not intend for us to have to
eat snakes.
They spent the winter with their friends and kinfolk
in Nebraska Territory, but when spring came they left and went back to Illinois
Territory and settled there and built their home about where the City of
Springfield is today. Grandfather and Grandmother Pemberton had only two
children, two girls, our Grandmother Swafford, and Emily (called Emm for short)
who married a Mr. Bostwick, I don't remember his given name. Grand father
and Grandmother Pemberton and their family continued to live in Illinois until
they came to Georgia in 1895. They lived on the farm of Grandpa and
Grandma Swafford until they moved into Fitzgerald because of Grandmother
Pemberton's health.
The first I remember of Grandfather and Grandmother
Pemberton, was that they were living on Grandfather Swafford's farm: they had a
small house that Grandfather Swafford had built for them. This was where
they lived until they had to move to town because Grandmother's health became so
bad that they wanted to be where they could get a doctor when he was
needed. They moved into a house on West Lemon St. They had not been
living there very long before Grandmother passed away. Then Grandfather
Swafford sold his farm because his war wound gave him so much trouble that it
was hard for him to keep up with all the work on the farm. Grandfather
Swafford bought a lot on West Sultana Drive at the corner of Longstreet St. and
built a house there. After the house was completed, Grandfather Pemberton
lived there with them until they moved to Macon.
The first place I remember that our family lived in
Fitzgerald was on West Orange St., which was where my brother Guy had his attack
of spinal meningitis and we were living there when he became sick with typhoid
fever, It was about four years of age before he could walk. It was here
that my sister Elsie was born. After Grandfather Swafford had finished his
house on West Sultana Drive my father built us a house on the other side of
Sultana Drive that had ten acres with it. We moved so we would have room
for a garden and cows. It was here that my brothers' Charles, Howard, Oren
and Otis were born.
I remember well that after Grandmother Pemberton
died, Grandfather would walk the five miles to and from Evergreen Cemetery every
Saturday, weather permitting, to place a bouquet of flowers on Grandma's grave,
and while we were there he would place his Bible on the grave and pray. I
know that he loved Grandmother very much, and I have heard him say a number of
times that she was the only woman that he ever knew, and the only woman that he
had any relations with. I have never known of or seen a couple that were
closer to each other of had any greater personal affection for each other in all
my life. Always they considered the other before themselves.
When we lived in Fitzgerald, before I had taken a
job to work at, I was very close to Grandfather Pemberton. And it was
usually me that was the one that accompanied Grandfather when he went to
the cemetery on Saturdays. It was on these trips that led to our close
relationship with each other. We discussed many
things as we walked along the way, and some of the best advise that a youth
could have come from him. He always advised the leading a clean life, and
not take up any habits of associate with those that did have bad habits that
would lead to one having a bad charter and sinfulness. He explained in a
simple way why the Orthodox Quakers did not put on a pretense by dress or
ornament, because he believed that these things would lead to sinfulness, by the
securing them would lead to the neglect of the things that were right and proper
in the way that one lived his life before God.
Grandfather liked fish very much, and when I had the
time to go fishing, I would go and catch him a mess. When I brought them
back to him he would sit in a chair on the back porch and cleaned them.
When I told him I would clean them for him he would say no, he said you worked
to catch them it is only right that I clean them. With his pen knife he
would take great pains when he cleaned them, and he was sure every scale and fin
bones were removed, when he had finished Grandmother Swafford would cook them
for him, and he would enjoy them very much.
I don't know of anything that he liked better than
fish unless it was birds. When they were in season I would go to the
fields and kill him some Quail or doves, and as he did with the fish, he would
sit in his chair on the back porch and clean them, being sure that he had
removed every pin feather. Grandmother Swafford would then cook them for
him. The way he liked them was stewed with dumplings. It was always a
pleasure for me to do anything I could do for him, for it seemed that whatever
it was he appreciated it so much.
Grandfather Pemberton passed away when I was in the
Navy during World War One. He was ninety Two when he passed away in the
fall of 1917; I felt his loss so very much, and regretted so much that I was not
there to attend his funeral. But I was in France at the time, and did not
learn of his passing away until I returned to the States and received my mail
from home.
Part Three
My Grandfather Smith was of Scotch and English
ancestry. When he was born his parents lived in Lawrence County
Indiana. Before they came to Indiana Territory, they lived on a farm on
the Hudson River a few miles from New York. But when the War of 1812 and
the Indian Wars were over and the West opened up, they moved to what is now
Lawrence County Indiana, But then it was Indiana Territory. I have very
little information about the Smith family until they had come to Indiana
Territory. The old family Bible shows that my Great-grandfather, Charles
Smith was born May 7th, 1797; My Great-grandmother Smith, (her maiden name was
Phebe mead), was born May 30th, 1800; My Grandfather Smith (Joel
Mead Smith), was born March 6th, 1824 and my Grandmother Smith (Mary Jane
Smith), was born August 7th, 1839.
My Great-grandfather Smith raised his family on a
farm in Southern Indiana, and my Grandfather Smith lived there until he joined
the Army Medical Corps during the Civil War. He served with the Union Army
Medical Corps during the Civil War. He served with the union Army in
Virginia. When I was young, I remember him telling of his many experiences
in the army, and of the dreadful suffering that the wounded men had to suffer
and endure in those days. He said after it was over he did not know what
made him go into the Medical Corps in the first place. He said if he had
known before hand what it was like he would have stayed home on the farm, But he
said he thought what made him do it was that he thought that he could do more
good in the Medical Corps than in the army.
He told of how in those times there was no
anaesthesia of any kind, and when it was necessary to operate they would get the
men drunk on liquor until he would pass out, and then they would perform the
operation. There were so many stories that he told about this kind of
thing while he was in the army, some of which were so awful and depressing that
I do not wish to recall them.
Grandfather Smith told about what happened on one
occasion when they were setting up a field hospital at an abandoned farm; while
they ere at work a company of southern troops opened fire upon the men setting
up the hospital, and they had to quit their work and help repel the
attack. In telling it, Grandfather said he used a kettle for a breast
work. He said he was crouched behind the kettle and when he saw the flash
of the southern guns firing, he then would stand up and fire his musket in their
direction; then after he had fired he would duck down behind the kettle again to
reload his musket again.
This skirmish kept up for some time until a
detachment of the northern calvary came to their help and drove the southern
troops away. He told how the bullets from the southern troops would hit
the kettle, and it was like being inside f a large bell. After the fight
was over, Grandfather said he was almost deaf from it for several days. He
served during the war in the Army of Virginia and was in the second Battle of
Bull Run and numerous other engagements helping evacuate the wounded men to the
field hospital.
When the war was over Grandfather returned to
Indiana and farmed the home place, and it was there that he met and married my
Grandmother Smith. Grandfathers' first wife had died and he had several
children by that marriage. The only one of them that I knew was my
father's half sister, my Aunt Elvira Baker.
Grandfather Smith was a stocky, well-built man about
five feet and eleven inches tall. He was a patient and lovable man,
willing to help someone on every occasion, but he was strong willed, and if he
set out to do something, he was never satisfied until he had finished what he
was doing. He was the energetic type, and he would never complain if the
things that he was trying to do did not go the way he wanted it to go.
My father told me many things about Grandfather, of
his strong will and courage. My father said that when he was a boy
Grandfather did the farm work and when he caught up with it he would do
construction work. I remember my father telling about one time when he
fell when a ladder broke and a wood chisel was driven into his thigh. He
said Grandfather went home and removed the chisel himself, cleansed the wound
and sewed up the cut, and then bandaged it and then went back to work. If
that kind of thing had happened in these days, an ambulance would have been
called and the patient would be laid up in a hospital for sometime.
Grandfather Smith had as much personal courage as
anyone that I ever knew, from what my father told me. He said it was not
only a physical strength, but strength of mind and the ability to be able to
cope with problems whenever they arose. He had the ability to come to
someone when they needed help and strength to make a rough decision, or to be
able to bring comfort to one who had lost loved ones. To be able to do
this was perhaps the greatest asset that he had in life.
I remember my father telling about the time when he
was a boy cutting wood, and how the axe glanced off a knot and almost cut off
his foot. He said, Grandfather Smith sat down in a chair and put my
father's foot between his knees, cleansed the wound, and sewed up the wound with
needle and thread. Father said he did not remember very much about that
part of it as he had fainted when Grandfather had started to work on his foot.
When I knew Grandfather Smith, he was in his late
seventies, he was bald headed like an egg with only a little fuzz around his
ears like the cartoon picture of Foxy Grandpa that appeared in the comics.
Grandfather had a long white beard that reached to his chest. When someone
asked about it he would say, and kid us and make a joke about it, telling us he
could grow plenty of hair, the only trouble that he had was making it grow in
the right places
All of us children loved him, and he delighted us
with stories about his trip when he came to Fitzgerald, Georgia in 1895.
He came in a covered wagon with Grandmother Smith, my Aunt Dora Jane and my
father. They had disposed of their farm in Indiana and with two horses
hitched to the wagon and leading two milk cows behind it, with their personal
effects loaded in the wagon they left their home in Lawrence County, Indiana to
come to Georgia. It took them some four months to make the trip of about
eight hundred miles. Today in a car you could make it in twenty-four
hours, by plane a little more than two hours, what a big difference the way we
travel then how they did it back then. Sometime as I think about things I
wonder if we today could cope with them as well as our forefathers did.
Grandfather Smith would tell of the many adventures
that they had on the way to Georgia. He said they came by the way of
Kentucky and Tennessee to come to Georgia. One evening a storm broke; it
was one of those fierce storms that comes in the mountains with heavy rain, hail
and high gusty winds. He said some times it looked like they would be
blown off the mountain road, but he said they were lucky, for just before the
worst part of the storm broke they found shelter of sorts in an old barn that
was left when the house there had burned. The roof of the old barn leaked,
but it was a whole lot better than being outside in the storm without a roof of
any kind over their heads. He said at times it seemed that the wind was
blowing so hard he wondered if the roof would stay on and not be blown
away. They had to stay there several days and wait for the streams to fall
enough so they could ford them and continue on their way.
He said while they were there they could find very
little to do except dry out what had become wet and wait. He said they
could travel only about ten miles a day. This was because they had to
trave slow because the cows could not be forced to go very fast. In the
morning they would cook their breakfast, and something to have for lunch.
They would do this before day break so they would be able to get an early
start. They would travel until about midday and stop for the stock to
rest, and graze and get some water. Grandfather said that they always
tried to find a stream or spring for a place to stop so there would be water for
the stock, and also a nice place to make camp for the night and cook our evening
meal, milk the cows, and then tether out the stock for the night.
Another reason they would like to camp beside a good
size creek or stream, or a river, was that in the evening after supper,
Grandfather and my father would go fishing and catch some fresh fish to have a
change in their meals so they would not be so monotonous. And if they had
time they would hunt and secure small game such as squirrels and rabbits to help
out their meals also. To hear Grandfather Smith tell of all of these
things that happened was so exciting to us children, and we all the time were
interested in all the events and the other happenings that he would tell us
about.
When they arrived in Georgia at Fitzgerald,
Grandfather Smith received his grant of twenty acres of land from the
government, and he and my father built their house and barns. The main
reason that Grandfather decided to move to Georgia was because of Grandmother
Smith's health. But it did no good, for in a year after they had completed
their home my grandmother passed away. Grandfather and my father batched
until my father and mother were married, Grandfather then sold his home and
lived with his daughter, my Aunt Elvira Baker.
A great lot of joking tales were told about my
father's cooking when they were batching, especially about the kind and quality
of their cooking. It never was decided who was the best cook or the
worse.
One of the funniest was about my father saying he
would not eat gophers, (in Georgia that is what a species of land turtles is
called). It happened this way, one Saturday when my father went into town
for supplies, Grandfather Smith caught one, dressed it, and made a stew out of
it for dinner. It was like you would make a beef stew with onions,
potatoes and dumplings. My father being hungry when he had returned from
town, for it was a way past the time that they usually had their dinner.
When father had brought in the supplies and unhitched and put the horse in the
lot, he came to the house and asked Grandfather if he had cooked yet.
Grandfather told him he had and that there was a pot of stew on the back of the
stove and to help himself and when he had finished eating he asked Grandfather
where he got the beef to make the stew, as they were the funniest beef bones
that he had ever seen. Grandfather then told him, Charley that was the gopher
hat you said you would never eat. My father then laughed and said to
Grandfather, I don't care if it was a gopher it sure was a good stew, and then
both of them had a good laugh.
I remember one time after I had just started to
school, that when I was on my way home, I was attracted by an old Italian organ
grinder with his little monkey dancing in the street as the organ grinder would
play his music. With some of my classmates, I followed them all the way
across town, for I had never before seen anything like that before. After
the organ grinder had left, I was lost, and I did not where I was because I was
a long way from where I had been going home from school. Being lost and
not knowing what to do I began to cry, and as I turned the corner and looked up
I saw my Grandfather's house.
Attracted by my crying, Grandfather looked out of
the window and saw me, and when he came out he wanted to know what I was doing
way over across town instead of being on my way home from school. And then
when I told him about the organ grinder and the monkey he got a big laugh about
it. He then carried me into the house and washed my face because I had
been crying, and then told Aunt Elvira and Uncle Volney Baker about it.
Taking my hand and all the time talking to me so as to get me to regain my
composers, he walked with me back home and explained to my mother what had
happened, for he did not want mother to punish me for not coming straight home
when I left school.
I remember another time when we were giving
Grandfather a birthday dinner on his eightieth birthday. Mother, Aunt
Elvira and the others planned it for a surprise for him. All of us grand
children were there and all of us had one of the best times, and Grandfather
enjoyed it so much. I have a picture of Grandfather holding four of his
grandchildren at the party. There was my cousin Ximeno and my cousin
Mildred, my brother Guy and myself.
There were many more times too numerous to mention
that Grandfather Smith made our lives a great deal happier by his tacking the
time to have fellowship and play with us children. All of us loved him
very much, and when Grandfather passed away, I was only eight years old. I
remember when he passed away so well, for he was sitting up in bed and my father
had his arm around his shoulder to hold him up so he could breathe better.
He passed away in my father's arms, and when he was buried in the Civil War
Veteran's plot in Evergreen Cemetery a good and kindly man had left us with a
lot of sorrow to put behind us, and a lot of memories to cherish all of our
lives.
Part Four
My Grandfather Swafford, (Everyone called him Lou
for short, as his name was Isaac Louis), and my Grandmother Swafford, (she
was called Jenny for short, as her given name was Sarah Jane). They were
my maternal grandparents. And when Col. Fitzgerald was granted land by the
government to form a settlement for Civil War Veterans, my Grandfather Swafford
applied for a parcel of farming land and he was given twenty acres, for which he
had to pay for under a long time contract. It was located north east of
Fitzgerald about five miles distances. The land had an all weather creek
(Otter Creek flowing through it, and there was plenty of water in the pasture
for the stock.
It was funny when my Great-grandfather Pemberton
would tell of how Grandfather Swafford asked for my Grandmother in marriage.
When Grandfather spoke to him, Grandfather Pemberton told him, "Lou you
know that she is too young and too flighty to even consider being married,"
Then Grandfather Swafford told him, "You know Jenny is a settled woman, and
is twenty five years old, and should be able to know her own mind."
When Grandfather Swafford would tell this Grandfather Pemberton would burst out
laughing, and said, "I thought you were talking about Jenny's sister Emm,
(short for Emily), who was only seventeen years old, flighty and had a new boy
friend almost all of the time. After they had finished laughing about it,
Grandfather Pemberton called to Grandmother Pemberton and told her about
Grandfather and Grandmother wanting to get married. They both gave their
consent, and told them, "with all our hearts we give you both our blessing,
for we know Lou you are a good responsible man who will love and take good care
of her and provide for her."
My Great-grandfather Swafford came to the Americas
from Cardiff Wales. When he was about twelve years of age his father
apprenticed him to a shoemaker, (they were known as cobblers), to work out a
debt that he owed. When my Great-grandfather Swafford finished his
apprenticeship he was sixteen years of age. After considering the
conditions that then existed in Wales, he decided to come to the American
Colonies who had won their freedom from England. Also the persecution the
Welch Protestants suffered at the hand of the Church of England made more
anxious to come to the Americas.
On finding out that a ship would be sailing soon
from Cardiff, and would be coming to the American Colonies, he decided to
stowaway on it. When no one was looking he went aboard and went below and
hid himself among the cargo. After the ship had been at sea a few days he
came up out of the hold because he had eaten what little food he had brought
with him, and he had become very hungry, When he came up the Captain put
him to work as a cabin boy; he had to keep the officer's quarters clean and help
the cook in the galley. The Captain told him he would have to stay aboard
the ship until they returned to Cardiff, where it was the law that he would have
to turn him over to the authorities there. Great-grandfather Swafford did
not relish the idea of going back to Cardiff, for he was aware that if he did
the authorities would put him in prison for stowing away on the ship, and he
wanted to stay in the American Colonies as there was no future for him back in
Cardiff, Wales. So he gathered together what belongings he had and tied
them up in a piece of sail cloth to be ready to leave the ship when he had an
opportunity to do so.
So when the ship was becalmed of the North Caroline
coast, he made ready to leave the ship at the first opportunity, taking the
things that he had tied up in the piece of sail cloth, he slid down a line that
he had thrown over the side of the ship and swam to the shore which was some two
miles away. While he was swimming, an offshore breeze sprang up, filled
the ships sails and as he looked the ship disappeared in the distance. It
was eight bells, midnight to us when he left the ship, and he knew they would
not miss him until it was time to help the cook prepare the morning meal.
On reaching the shore he undressed and hung his wet
clothes, and the things in the sail cloth, upon some bushes to dry. Then
he lay down on the warm sand and went to sleep. When morning came, and
after his things were dry, he dressed and following a trail that went inland, he
came upon a trapper's cabin and a trading post that afternoon. The trading
post sold supplies to the trappers and bought their furs. My
Great-grandfather having a few pennies bought himself something to eat from the
trader. While he was eating he noticed that the trader's boots were in a
bad state of repair. After he had finished eating he approached the trader
with the proposition that he could repair his boots as he was a cobble. He
did such a good job that the trader let him stay with him and set up shop in a
shed next to his cabin. Though the shed was small there was enough room in
it for him to make himself a bunk as well as a work bench.
Having no other place in mind to do anything, he
stayed there several years, doing a good business with the trappers and other
that came to the trading post. It was here that he met my
Great-grandmother Swafford who was the daughter of one of the trappers that
brought his furs to the trading post to sell them. After they had married
they lived in a cabin in the settlement that had sprung up around the trading
post. When the west opened up after the Indian Wars were over, they heard
that one could settle on good land in Illinois Territory, and after giving it
some thought they decided to go there and settle. They decided after they
reached Illinois Territory, on a place on the Mississippi River in what was then
known as The Big Bend Country. It was not far from where the city of New
Boston is now located.
It was here that they built their home and stock
barns, and then cleared land for farming. When they first settled there
the closest settlers were some sixty miles from where they lived. When
Great-grandfather Swafford built there it was among the Indians and when
Grandfather was born the Potowatmi Tribe of Indians lived near by. These
Indians were very friendly, and when Grandfather was two weeks old he was
adopted by Chief Eagle Eye as his son, and raised him as his son. When the
Chief came and carried him across the Mississippi River to Iowa Territory for
the adoption ceremony my Great-grandmother was very upset about the Chief
carrying the baby across the river. My Great-grandfather knew all about it
and told her not to worry that the Chief would bring the baby back before
nightfall. When the Chief brought Grandfather back, he was dressed in the
most beautiful baby clothes that the Chief's squaw had made for the
occasion. They were made of tanned fawn skins that was as soft as satin
and embroidered with many beautiful patters. Grandfather said when the
home place burned while he was in the army during the Civil War these precious
things that were mementoes of his life among the Indians were a complete lost.
Chief Eagle Eye and his braves taught my Grandfather
Swafford all the skills of the Indians, such as horse back riding, how to make a
bow and arrows and how to use them in hunting and fishing, and how to trap game
animals for food and skins when they needed them. When Chief Eagle Eye of
the Potowatmi Indian Tribe adopted my Grandfather, they gave him an Indian name
that meant Pale Face Eagle Eye Son of the Chief. Grandfather told me what
me what it was but it has escaped my memory after all these years, but my
Great-grandfather and Great-grandmother were thankful for all the help that the
Indians gave them. And they and their whole family were always held in
respect by all the Potowatmi Indians and were always treated as friends and
brothers.
After they had been there for a number of years a
settlement grew up around where the family had settled and it was later known as
New Boston. When the Civil War commenced, Grandfather Swafford joined the
army as a Drum Major, which is something like a Sargent musician in the army of
today. Grandfather told of a great many and varied experiences while he
was in the army; there were so many that now I can only recall just a few of
them.
He told about the time his company was in Tennessee
that they were attacked by a detachment of Southern Calvary, they were taken by
surprise and did not have time to prepare a defense, so they had to take cover
in some thick woods where the Calvary could not maneuver very well.
Grandfather said in the ensuing fight he saved a life by catching a lance on his
drum, He brought the drum home when he was discharged, and brought it to Georgia
with him. He showed where the lance had made a hole in the drum that he
had patched.
To hear him tell of these things was very
interesting, and I wish I could repeat them as he told them. I remember
hin telling about another time when his company was camping near Memphis,
Tennessee, and after they had made camp an old Negro slave came to their camp
and took up with them. The men in the company let him stay to be the cook
for the company. The men in the company always tried to find something to
go with their government issued rations of flour, salt pork and dry beans.
If they were lucky and found a hog that had so far escaped the butcher, it soon
became a part of their rations for that day. They would barbecue it and
that evening they would have a feast. And if some stray chicken had in
some manner, up to now, escaped detection they soon became the main ingredient
for a pot of chicken and dumplings.
And there were many days that their luck ran out and
they could not forage, and being close to Memphis, they would pass the hat
around for a collection to get money for the old Negro to slip into Memphis and
buy some fresh meat if he could find some, or anything else that would give them
a change of G. I. rations. Grandfather said on this particular occasion
the collection only amounted to a dollar and five cents as that was all the
money they had among them because in the field there was times that the pay
officer would be delayed and their money would give out. They gave the
money to the old Negro and told him to do the best he could, for they knew that
one dollar and five cents would not buy much. The men talked about it and
wondered what they could expect when he returned, The only thing they could
think of was perhaps he could get some potatoes or some other kind of fresh
vegetable
Late in the afternoon they saw the old Negro coming
from Memphis with a feed sack over his shoulder, and when he emptied it out, it
had been full of catfish heads, some potatoes, onions and some green
peppers. They had known that they could not expect much for their little
amount of money they had given the old Negro. There was one of the
soldiers that got really mad about it and wanted to kill the old man for buying
catfish heads with the money. Grandfather said he held him back, and told
him and the others to let him alone for he knew what he was doing. The old
man cleaned the catfish heads and put them in a pot to boil. When they had
cooked until all the meat fell off the bones, he removed the bones and put in
the potatoes, onions and the green peppers which he had prepared while the heads
were cooking. When it was finished Grandfather said, it was some of the
best catfish chowder he had ever ate. The men agreed with him, and from
then on whatever the old man was able to scrounge for them were just all right.
I wish I could put into writing these things just as
he had told them, for I know that I have left out some of the salient facts that
made his telling them so interesting to all of us. When he told them you
could almost see and picture yourself observing the events that he was telling.
Another time when some of them were foraging they
came upon an abandoned farm house, when the people who had lived there had left
because the war had moved so close to them. They searched the place all
over and in the field back of the house they found some sweet potatoes that had
come up and volunteerly. After they had dug them they then searched the
house and in the cellar under the house they found a keg of peach brandy that
some how had up to now escaped detection until then. The old man made a
pit oven and filled it with hot coals and ashes and roasted the potatoes to go
along with their salt pork and dry beans. After they had eaten their meal
there was enough of the brandy that each of them had a cup to top of their meal.
Where they were stationed there was very little
fighting going on. Their regiment was held in reserve back of the front
lines, but one day a Confederate Calvary Unit had penetrated their lines and
attacked without there being any warning before the attack came. All of the
company escaped except Grandfather Swafford, he had been shot through the foot
and was unable to run into the woods. He was taken prisoner and sent to
the Confederate Prison at Andersonville, Georgia. He spent some nine
months in the prison at Andersonville.
Grandfather Swafford was in the Andersonville Prison
when the Providence Spring burst forth and gave the prisoners some good water to
have to drink and bathe in. Grandfather said it was his heart felt belief
that the occurrence of the spring coming forth was in a direct answer to their
prayers. He said many of the prisoners were deeply religious and they held
a prayer meeting every day to ask God to extend his mercy toward them and help
them to overcome their suffering. Grandfather said that he felt that it
was their belief in God, and their continued prayer that enabled them to be able
to withstand the sickness that they suffered without having any kind of medical
attention at all. A great many of the prisoners had been wounded so bad
and lost their strength and will to live that a great number of them died and
were buried in the prison cemetery outside the stockade.
Grandfather Swafford said because of a wounded foot,
he suffered from it a long time, because while he was in Andersonville Prison he
did not receive any kind of medical treatment for it. The only kind of
treatment that he had for it was keeping the wound clean by bathing it in hot
water, and putting some turpentine on it that one of the guards had given
him. For bandages the only thing they had was cloth that had been given
them from discarded clothing. These they washed clean the best they could
without any soap. He told us of how many of the men were in a worse
condition then he was. When any of these men asked Captain Wirtz for
medical attention, he always said to the men, "I cannot furnish you
prisoners a doctor, as all the doctors are needed in the front lines to care for
their troops and could not be spared to treat prisoners." Because of
the filth and the stench it is no wonder that so many of these poor men just
became despondent and then gave up.
Before the spring burst forth all the water they had
at the prison came from a small slow moving creek that flowed through the
stockade. It was named Stockade Creek, and at the upper end where the
creek entered, was where they got their water for cooking, drinking, bathing and
for washing their clothing. At the lower end of the creek where it left
the prison stockade was where the latrines were located, and the only time they
were flushed out was when a heavy rain came. This situation being so
unhealthy and unsanitary was, with tie lack of medical attention, the cause of
much of the sickness that these prisoners had to suffer.
The commander of the prison was a foreigner who had
been made a Captain in the Confederate Army, and was put in charge of the
prison. The man was Captain Wirtz, and he was a very cruel man without
compassion at all for the suffering men under his jurisdiction.
Grandfather said if there was ever a devil on this earth, this Captain Wirtz was
that man. Grandfather told us that Captain Wirtz used every opportunity
that he could to make life a little more miserable for the prisoners. The
only ration that he gave the prisoners was corn meal that was musty and full of
weevils, dry field peas, and if there was any meat it was salt pork that was
rancid and full of skippers, and there were few times that even this ran out,
and it would be several days before they were issued any more rations of any
kind.
I remember one time he was telling us about his life
in the Andersonville Prison, that every time that Captain Wirtz would come into
the stockade for an inspection he would always have a large fierce dog on a
leash with him. This was because he feared that some of the prisoners
would kill him if they were given the opportunity to do so. Some of the
prisoners would make a plot to do away with the dog. In one of the tents
that was their barracks they dug a hole under the floor at night. To hide
their digging they would carry the dirt from the hole and dump it into the creek
and not leave any signs of it to cause suspicion. Before light the next
morning they would replace the tent floor to hide where they had been digging.
The next time Captain Wirtz came with his dog some
of the men started an argument and commotion away from where he was to attract
the attention of Captain Wirtz and to distract him from what he was doing.
He tied the dog leash to a tent pole and went to see what the commotion was all
about. When he came back to get his dog it was gone, and he could not find
out from any of the men what had happened to the dog.
Some of the prisoners had killed the dog and
butchered it, and the next day it became a part of their dinner, and Grandfather
said his portion was a piece about the size of his thumb. He said that the
men ordinarily would not eat a dog but they were on the verge of starvation and
any kind of meat was welcome to them. He told of how many of the men had
died because of malnutrition, dysentery, scurvy, and lack of any kind of medical
attention. There were no fresh meats of vegetables in the food they had to
eat. And most of the men were sick and weak from the lack of care and the
right kind of food to eat.
The prisoners were hatching a plot to also do away
with Captain Wirtz if an opportunity presented itself. But before the plot
was completed the northen troops had advanced into Georgia, so it became
necessary to close Andersonville Prison and all the prisoners there were
transferred to a stockade in southern Louisiana that was close to New
Orleans. After they had been there a few weeks Grandfather and one the
other prisoner that was his buddy escaped from the stockade where they were
being held.
Grandfather told how that one evening after it had
become dark they went to the latrine that was built over the Mississippi River,
and tearing up the seat in the latrine they dove into the river and swam across
to the other side. They were not missed until the next morning at roll
call. The southern troops that guarded the stockade got out their blood
hounds and tried to find them. Grandfather said he swam the Mississippi
River seven times to throw off the track dogs. He said at times he would
use and old Indian trick by laying submerged in the water and breathing through
a hollow reed when anyone was near. He said his buddy became exhausted
because of his physical condition and could not run and swim any more and so he
gave himself up to the southern troops.
Grandfather said he lived in the swamp until the war
was over. After the prison guards had given up the hunt for him, he stayed
with an old Negro couple who had come to the swamp to get away from the
war. They were old but that would not have made any difference, for if
they had stayed in New Orleans they would have been pressed into forced labor to
help the southern troops to carry on with the war. The way he said he met
up with them was right after they had quit looking for him. Ad he was
moving through the swamp he saw a fire in the distance and when he came to it he
found the old couple sitting around the fire and roasting some sweet potatoes
that the old man had found at an abandoned farm, and of a spit over the coals
they were roasting a possum to go with the sweetum taters as they called
them. Grandfather said it sure smelled so good to a hungry man.
After he had made himself known to them they gave
him some of the food, and he said the roasted possum and sweetum taters were the
best something he had to eat in a long time. He and the old Negro man
scrounged some of the old boards from the abandoned farm, and found a place in
the swamp where the ground was a little higher. And there they built a
lento to have for a shelter. Grandfather said his Indian training came
into good use as he was better able to secure food for them. Making a bow
and arrows he was able to shoot small game and fish that came into shallow
water, Also he knew what wild vegetation was good for food and this is the way
that he lived until the war was over.
When the war was over, he went back to New Orleans,
for while he was in the swamp he was stricken with swamp fever, (we call if
malaria today). He became quite sick with the fever and they gave him up
for dead, and he was placed in a pine box that was being used for a
coffin. He told us as he lay there he heard the Army Chaplain preach his
funeral, and he could not make any sign to let them know that he was still
alive. They were preparing to take him to the cemetery and bury him, when
his buddy saw a red spot on his cheeks and begged the Chaplain not to bury him
until the next morning.
Grandfather said his buddy went into town and paid
five hundred dollars Confederate money for a pint of brandy, and when he came
back he opened Grandfather's lips and fed him the brandy a drop at a time until
Grandfather regained conscience and was able to sit up. When the Chaplin
came in the next morning, he saw Grandfather sitting in a chair talking.
Grandfather said it was in answer to his prayers while the Chaplin was preaching
his funeral that enabled his buddy to see that he was not dead. My
Grandfather had his funeral preached three times, once by the Army Chaplin,
while he was in New Orleans, and when the message reached his home in Illinois
his relatives and friends held a memorial service in his church at home for
him. And the last time when we had his service was when he passed away in
1924.
After he had regained his health in an army hospital
he returned home, and there was a greater gathering to welcome him home then was
at the memorial service, and a much happier one too. He lived at home for
some time until he had completely recovered from the effects of the fever, and
his foot had healed where he was shot when he was captured so he would be able
to go back to work again.
After Grandfather regained his health, he worked on
the Mississippi River paddle wheel steam boats that ran from St. Louis to New
Orleans. And at other times he would work at rafting logs on the river to
the saw mills. And there were a great many stories that he told about his
experiences on the old Mississippi River. These stories were very
entertaining and some of them were really humorous the way he would tell them,
and the way he would describe all the things and events that happened.
One of them that I recall was about the daughter of
the Captain of the river steamer on which he was the cook and steward.
This young lady was about fourteen years of age, and it was her great delight to
be playing some kind of practical jokes on everyone that she had the chance
too. She would slip into the galley on the steam boat, and while
Grandfather was busy she would fill the sugar bowls with salt, and fill the
catsup bottles with tabasco sauce. She would tie knots in the white jacket
sleeves and in the pants legs, and it were not long before Grandfather got fed
up on this kind of foolishness.
One night when they were tied up for the night to
the river bank, for the river steamers could not run at night for it was very
dangerous for they might run into a log or a snag in the river and sink.
As was the custom they were sitting on deck talking before it came time to turn
in for the night. As they sat and talked they would all tell of the
different experiences that they had experienced while they traveled up and down
the river. Many of these stories were very funny and everybody got a big
kick in listening to them.
This particular night Grandfather said he saw a
large river snake on a tree near the river bank, and seeing the snake gave him
an idea how to put an end to this practical joke business. He called to
the attention of all of them to see the large snake that was in the tree on the
river bank. Then he began to tell how that when the weather was cold
sometimes the snakes would come aboard the steam boats and crawl into the bunks
or anywhere else they could to keep warm.
He left them talking about it, some of them saying
that they did not believe it, that was just a tale and all rubbish. They
said they did not believe a snake would come aboard a steam boat at all.
Grandfather said he went below to the store room and got a long link of fresh
sausage from the ice chest, and going he went into the girl's cabin and left the
link of sausage curled up under her blankets at the foot of her bunk. When
it was time for them to turn in Grandfather remained on deck and pulled off his
shoes for he did not know what the girl would do, or what would happen when her
feet hit the cold link of sausage when she jumped into her bunk.
Grandfather said he did find out and very soon, for
he heard her scream and run from her cabin and then she jumped into the river,
and he had to jump in after her and bring her back aboard. But this broke
up the pranks from then on, and the Captain had a good laugh about it, he told
his daughter that she got just what she had coming to her and deserved for all
the things she had done.
Another story that I remember that always got a good
laugh whenever he would tell it, it was about one time when he was rafting logs
on the river to the saw mills. He said when night came they would tie up
the raft of logs to the river bank for the night, And if the weather was warm
and fair they would make a camp on the rafts until morning. Then they
would cook their breakfast and cast off and continue on down the river. If
while they were camping on the raft and wanted a mess of fish for the next day
they would put out set lines that they would tie to the rafts, and in the
morning they would have all the fish that they wanted and a lot of times more
than they had any need of. All those that they did not want they would
give to some of their friends along the river.
This time that he was telling about, on one of the
set lines they caught a large catfish, and the next morning when they brought it
up on the raft they saw it was about the largest one they had ever had the good
fortune to catch. They weighed it and it weighed one hundred and seven
pounds. They had caught more than enough small ones for their own use, and
looking toward the river bank he saw three little Negro boys that he knew.
They were fishing from the bank for river perch, and knowing them and their
mother he called them to the raft to see what he had for them. When they
came to the raft and saw the fish, the smallest of the boys said, "Mr. Lou
that thar fish are big as a hog." When he said that Grandfather said
he began to laugh and asked them if they wanted it. And when he said that
they all spoke up and said, "Mr. Lou we sure do." Then
Grandfather said, the fish is yours, but let us have some fun with your
ma. So he lined up the boys, with the largest having the fish head on his
shoulder, the next was in the middle and the smallest had the tail. He
then took the little pole from the little boy and placed the hook in the fish's
mouth.
Then he told them what he wanted them to do, when we
get to your house call to your Ma and ask her to come and see what you have
got. Now don't you yell to her and tell her that you caught it for that
would be telling a lie. So that is what they did and when their mother
Mary came and saw the fish, She looked at them and laughed and said, there is no
way you could have caught that thar fish, no way, when you used that little
hook.
Grandfather Swafford came up laughing, and when Mary
saw him she said, Mr. Lou you aint putting my boys up to devilment are
you? No, Mary, Grandfather said, you know that I would not do that for any
reason, we just wanted to have some fun with you, and thought that you and your
family could use a mess of fish to have for your dinner. There were only
Mary and the boys at home besides their old uncle who came out and told Mary
that he would skin the fish and get it ready to have it cooked when the others
came in from the fields, for there would be fish enough for all of them for
their supper. And as Grandfather left the boys called out to him, Mr. Lou
anytime you catch more fish than you can eat, you know that we will help you.
Grandfather told of one time when he was rafting
logs down the river he was struck by a large river Moccasin on his foot.
When the Indian that was working with him saw what had happened, he took a
leather throng to use as a tourniquet, and drew it taught above the snake bite
to stop the poison from going up in his body. He then with his knife cut a
cross through the wound and with his mouth sucked out the poison. Telling
Grandfather to remain still he went onto the woods and gathered some kind of
herbs and chewing them he made a pad of them and bound them on the wound.
When Grandfather asked him why he chewed the leaves to make the poultice, he
said in doing that it done two things it killed the poison if I had any left in
my mouth, and when I placed it on the snake bite it also killed the poison in it
too. Grandfather told what kind of plant the Indian used, but the name of
it escaped my memory, but it was one of the many Indian skills he learned and
knew how to use.
Another time I remember him telling about a time he
had some kind of and infected sore come on his cheek, and it seemed that any
thing that he did would not remove the infection. When he was telling the
Indian that worked with him about it, the Indian said come me and see my mother,
because I know she can cure it for you. So in going to this old Indian
squaw, she said you sit and wait I will come back soon. In a little while
she returned with some kind of a salve that Grandfather said smelled like rancid
goose grease. The old squaw washed his cheek with some kind of water in
which she had boiled a few leaves of some kind of herb, and when it had dried
she placed the salve on the sore and bound it up. That evening she removed
the bandage and using some more of the salve she began to massage his cheek all
the time mumbling some kind of incantation that he could not
understand. It was not long before the core in the sore became loose
and she drew it out with her fingers. On the core were long thread like
tissue that came out with the core. After she had again washed the sore
she put some more of the salve on it and Grandfather said it healed up and was
not sore any more. This is another instance where the old time skill of
our Indians came into a good use for our Grandfather. On telling a doctor
about it he said that what you had is what we call a spider cancer, and he told
Grandfather he was very lucky as that kind of a sore was very difficult to
heal. The doctor said he would like to find out what the old Indian squaw
had used for it would come in good if he had a similar case to doctor. But
when Grandfather asked the old squaw about it she told him she could not tell
because if she did, she would loose the power to heal herself. She said
the only one she could tell was her daughter, and her daughter would have
the healing power. She had received it form her mother, and her mother from her
mother and before she died she would tell her daughter.
Great-grandmother Pemberton and Grandmother Swafford
knew many old remedies that were used before there were many doctors to help
when one became sick. A laxative remedy made from tea steeped from senna
leaves and used by using equal parts of the tea and honey to make a laxative
syrup. Also some cough drops and cough syrup made by using horehound
leaves steeped into a tea and combined with honey to make the syrup, or mixed
with cane syrup and cooked down to a hard candy to make cough drops. And
there was the Jerusalem root tea with honey for a worm remedy. And there
is one that comes to memory was a remedy for the grip or bone break fever (today
we call it the flue). Take a quart of good corn whiskey, to it add an
ounce of quinine, an ounce of asafetida, dissolved and mix well and give to
adults two tablespoons three times a day, for children one tablespoon
full. If they had chills and fever, they also used with it for drinking
water a tea made from boiling the roots of the low bush palmetto. There
were many others that I do not remember at this time.
When he and Grandmother married, Grandfather gave up
working on the river. In the winter when it was to cold to follow painting
and carpenter work he would he would follow in his Father's trade as a shoemaker
which he had learned from him. He also hunted game for the restaurants in
Springfield and Chicago. He would load all his shells himself for his
shotgun and in the morning would take his boat and row up the river and hunt on
the way back down the stream on the way back home. When he came to the
boat landing, he would whistle for his boys, (my uncle Guy and my uncle Simm),
then they would drive the wagon down to the boat landing, and take it to the
house and dress it to take to the market in Springfield of Chicago the next day.
Grandmother Swafford told about the last time that
Grandfather went on a hunt before they left for Georgia. She said
Grandfather carried two hundred and seventeen shells with him that morning and
brought back two hundred and fifteen ducks and one shell he had not shot.
Grandfather said he always carried a buckshot shell in case he came upon a bear
that wanted to attack him. When I was a boy, I have seen Grandfather
Swafford empty a box of twenty-five shells in his hunting coat pocket and come
back to the house in a few hours with twenty-five quail, and never missing a
shot. He was the best I ever saw with a gun hunting of shooting clay
target shooting. Before he came to Georgia, he bested the champion of the
world in a field hunt, shooting over the same pair of dogs and at the same
coveys of birds. He was good at trap shooting too, and had planned to
compete in the next world competition at the traps but was unable to do so as
they left for Georgia before the shoot could take place, and he did not think
that the trip back to Illinois for that was worth it.
I remember the time Grandmother Swafford was telling
of a time when Grandfather had more orders than he had game to fill them, so
they carried what they had, and they did not leave her anything to cook for
their supper when they returned from Springfield. Thinking that she would
have to do with cooking some dry beans and salt pork for their supper.
Then while she was on the front porch she saw a flock of geese flying very low
over the house, and reaching inside the front door she took the two large horse
pistols that hung there and she fired into the flock and killed two large geese.
These horse pistols were some that the Cavalry used, they were called horse
pistols because they were carried in scabbards on each side of the saddle and
were used by the Cavalry to fight with.
Grandmother dressed the geese and roasted them for
their supper, and made dressing to go with them. When Grandfather and my
two uncles came in they were surprised with a roast goose and the fixings for
their supper, as Grandfather was expecting dry beans and salt pork.
Grandfather was kind of afraid to ask but his curiosity got the better of him
and he asked Grandmother where she got the geese as he knew that he had carried
all the game he had killed to the market to sell. Grandmother said she
kidded him about it and when she told him as he had not left anything to cook
she had to go hunting and get some meat for supper. Grandfather laughing
as he told her he did not think that was the way it happened. After a
while Grandmother owned up to how she had killed the geese. Grandfather
then said that he did not believe that would happen again in a hundred
years. So after they had their supper he went and reloaded the pistols so
Grandmother would have them for her protection when he had to be away from the
house.
When there was a gathering anywhere, Grandfather
seemed to have a new story to tell that we had not heard before. There was
such a number of them that there is no way that I believe I could remember them
all. But one of the funniest and best I remember him telling was about
making a pair of boots for a young man that had came to him to have made.
I wish I could tell it in the humorous way that Grandfather told it, but as I
remember this is the way the story was told by him. When the young man
came to Grandfather's he told him he had never had a new pair of boots in his
life. I have had to wear the cast offs of other people and now I want a
pair of my own. He said he had worked all summer and saved his money for
the purpose of having a pair of new boots made for himself.
Grandfather said he took the measurements and made
the boots, and as he was finishing them the young man told Grandfather he wanted
them made so they would squeak when he walked so people would know he had a new
pair of boots. Grandfather said this was very funny to him when the young
man said it to him, but to please him he split a goose quill and placed half of
it between the outer sole of each boot. Then when the young man walked the
boots squeaked, one of them went wench every time he made a step and when people
looked up he was so pleased when everybody saw his new boots
Before they came to Georgia, it was in New Boston,
Illinois that Grandfather and Grandmother raise their family, my mother and her
two brothers my uncles' Guy and Simm Swafford. Before they left New Boston
they sold their home place and shipped their things by railroad train, and they
came to Georgia by train themselves. It took them several days to make the
trip as there were no through trains as there is now. It was in 1895 when
the government gave to Col. Fitzgerald a land grant on Georgia, and it was then
that they decided to come to Georgia to escape the hard cold winters in the
north. Each of the Civil War Veterans that qualified for a grant could
either take a twenty-acre tract of farm land or a building lot in the city,
which was later named Fitzgerald in honor of Col. Fitzgerald who had sponsored
the government grant for the veterans. Grandfather Swafford and
Grandfather Smith qualified for their grant and drew twenty acres of farm land
and built their homes there.
It was here that my father and mother met and were
married on the 1st of August 1897. It was at Grandmother Swafford's place
that I was born August 15th, 1900. And all of the grandchildren had the
love and affection of all our grandparents.
Grandfather Swafford passed away in the fall of
1925, and it was only about a month later before Grandmother left us also,
Grandfather Swafford was eighty two when he died and Grandmother Swafford was
seventy none. I was holding her hand when she died, and I was begging her
to fight and not leave us as all of us children loved her so very much.
She smiled and looked up at me and said, "I know all of you do, boy.
fsmith1938@aol.com
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