Good Old Days Back in the 1860's
Submitted by Donnie PickardVan Buren County Democrat, June 29, 1923
T.J. Bradshaw Interestingly Writes of "Good Old Days" Back in the Sixties
The first time I had a view of Clinton was 1866. We lived in a big old box house in the east end of town, known as "Catch All". A log house stood about sixty yards southeast and a large log house was on the corner northwest of court square. To the south was a double log house where for a long time Hartwell Greeson ran a hotel. South of this was another log house in which Dr. Thornbrough lived for a long time. West of this place stood the church a two story frame building, the upper story of which was used as a Masonic hall.
Northwest of the church was a double log house occupied by the Boykin family as a residence. North of the church was a frame dwelling, and in the extreme northwest end of the town was a number of log cabins where the Pates lived afterwards. On the hill southwest of the church was an old horse mill owned by the Boykins. All the unoccupied buildings were burned during the Civil War, among them being the courthouse and the jail. Just why the church was spared I do not know. Most all the land around town belonged to a Bradley and the Boykins.
While we lived in the "Catch All" a delegation of the Ku Klux Klan called on my father one evening. They wore the regulation white caps and long flowing gowns. They called father outside and talked to him a few minutes and went on. They were evidently well acquainted with father as they called him "Jim" all the time. While they were there the leader told Pa he wanted some water, which Pa told me to bring. I went into the house and got a gourd full and gave it to Pa. He handed it to the worthy gentleman who promptly dashed it on the ground, telling me to bring a bucket full as a gourd full did not do any good, only making him want water worse than ever. I brought a bucket full of water, all of which he apparently drank.
I never waited to receive the bucket, but covered the distance between myself and the house as soon as my feet could carry me and proceeded to retire, as I then thought the bed the safer place for me. To say that I was scared would hardly do the subject justice but ever since it has been a question unanswerable in my mind what that fellow did with the water. Perhaps he is living yet and will recall the visit. I never knew why they came, but old Aunt Mine, an old Negro woman, lived at our house, I think it was on her account they called on father. He probably told them she was harmless and at his request they never molested her. I'm very glad to say they never molested me either.
The Masons at that time played an important part in the affairs of the community. Most all the prominent men of the county belonged to the lodge at Clinton and they were all good men. The entire lodge would sometimes appear on the streets, two abreast, followed by the Master of the lodge carrying a large Bible on which was the square and compass, the three principal emblems of the fraternity. As the members were all old ex-soldiers they made a good job of the parade. I have never seen any work as well done since, and I have seen some fine parades in other places. I do not know but I think there were more good people in that country then than anywhere on earth. I mean in proportion to population. Anyway, they were all good to me. I figure that a person that is good to me will be good to others.
Among the men I often saw in marches I remember Uncle Davy Hargis, who was Master of the Clinton lodge for a long time and carried the heavy Bible on these occasions. Another Master was Jack Leonard. These two men must have been Master most all the time I lived there. Among others often seen among them were James Foster, William and Mark Lindsey, Bob Hill, George Cullum, King Bradford, Garner Hatchett, J. H. Fraser, Ant. Smith and John Bradley, Fate England, J.C. Bradshaw, Hartwell Greeson, Zack Thompson, Wilson Pate and M.C. Rerdell. (I have forgotten just how his name is spelled).
I do not wish to say anything against the Masonic order but the last named man was one black sheep that got into the fold. He was probably the grandest rascal that ever made a shadow on the streets of Clinton, and I believe that all persons knew his official record will say that I am correct. He and Capt. Jackson ran the affairs of the county about as they pleased during the stirring days of carpetbag rule.
Jackson was Rerdell's father-in-law and got the title of "Captain" while running a little contraband steamboat from Memphis to the heads of White, Red and other small rivers in the state. His boat was so small that he could go far up the steams(could be streams?) The federal gunboats could not follow him and in this way he kept out of their reach. I was living at the Hatchett streamboat landing, near Westpoint, when his boat was taken by a federal gunboat. A small boat was sent after him on the Little Red River. After Jackson's boat went up the river the gunboat followed, captured the Jackson boat and brought it back down the river. The gunboat people were evidently afraid something would happen to them for they kept throwing out shells, first on one side and then the other, as they went down the river. One of these shells just about demolished the cook house at the Hatchett landing.
Editor, if this epistle is getting too long you can chop off some of it. You and Jim Hatchett got me started on this and you fellows are to blame if I take up too much of your space. There are a few more I would like to write about - A.B. Brittain, Tom and Dick Poe, Dr. Adam Guthrie, Rev. Sykes, Billy Pate, Bill Maddox, Dr. Greeson, W.E. Wilson, A. Hensley, Billy Peel, Dr. Harvey and wife.
The two last named used to lick me anywhere from three to seven times a day at school for bad conduct, or no conduct at all. I probably needed it, but if I could or ever get the chance, the aforesaid M.D. will get his southern atmosphere kicked until he will have to be sent to a hospital. Of all the people I ever saw they are the only ones I look back to with contempt.
Soon after things began to settle down from the effects of the War people began to think of schools. The first schools were taught in the church. The lower room had no fireplace or flue. A stove was put up with the pipe stuck out the window. The room was not ceiled at that time. Often during the winter we suffered from the smoke and cold. Absolum Hensley taught one or more terms there. He let us study out loud and sometimes we talked to each other out loud. I remember Gus Sanders and James Greeson were two of my playmates. One day Jim and I got to spitting through our teeth as we had seen others do. The teacher caught us at it, made us stand on the floor on one foot and with both thumbs in our mouth, spit. We spit and spit until the spittal ran from our elbows. Finally we were permitted to go to our seats and that put an end to the spitting business in that school at least.
Two young men - Sam W. Simpson and a man named Read - came along later and got the school. They taught a good school but at the close of the session the people decided it was not school enough for two teacher, so they turned Simpson off and retained Read. This shows where the people sometimes make serious mistakes. Read afterwards ran away, taking things that did not belong to him and leaving his family, Simpson remained and made a useful citizen and a successful business man.
A log schoolhouse was built on the hill, just west of town, where the young were taught for a number of years by good, bad and indifferent teachers. Among the best we had was James H. Fraser and his sister Miss Verg we called her. I will never forget the patience, determination and love they employed in trying to develop something out of the children placed in their care. Everything that education, refinement, Christian fortitude could do for us was given. No doubt in my mind but that the work done by these two people had a wonderful effect for good among the children fortunate enough o be their pupils. Van Buren County never had and never will have two better teachers.
Two little things that happened to me, just to show the character of the man and to furnish your readers with a little amusement, I wish to relate and then I will close. Ant Bradley was farming and got behind with his work in the cotton. He employed a number of hands to help out and I was given a job along with the rest.. I was to have about half as much as the men, as I was only a boy. When we were through and went to get our pay Bradley told me I did as much work and did it as well as the men and I should have as much pay. And I got it.
Later on, when I had become a man, old enough to call on the ladies, one Christmas eve a young Baptist preacher and I sent our compliments to the Misses Nan and Alice Bradley, expressing our desire to see them to the Christmas tree in the new school hose on the hill south of town. The boy we sent the notes by did not find the girls and gave them to Mr. A. Bradley. He told the boy to tell us to come ahead as it would be all right.
In the mean time the girls had made other arrangements. We started to their house only to meet them coming out with two other young men on their way to the Christmas tree. Of course we were somewhat disappointed, but Mr. and Mrs. Bradley invited us in to spend the evening with them, remarking the tree would not amount to much anyway. This we did and had a very pleasant evening. There are many other happenings I would like to write about ______ but I am tired and know the editor is. I hope I have offended no one and if I have brought a smile to anyone, or a fond remembrance, I have been well repaid for my time and trouble.
T.J. Bradshaw
Ignacio, Col., June 17th 1921.