Page Two
LENOIR NEWS-TOPIC, THURSDAY,
LENOIR, N. C.
"GENTLEMAN" JOHN PERIS
By V. W. SCOTT
Some Account of the Life and Times of "Gentleman" John
Perkins, of Lincoln; and of His Contemporaries, Successors
and Descendants; Together With a Glance at the History of
A DeveloDment of What Is Now
Caldwell County and of the Adjacent Country, During the
Latter Part of the Eighteenth and the Beginning of the ;
Nineteenth Centuries. j
(Continued from Last Week)
Onlv four races are recorded :
May, 1837, Folly Morgan won a sweepstakes :n Moryanton, purse
$137.50, entrance 'fee beating Capt. McDowell's Lance tilly, Alexander
Perkins' Riott tilly, Isaac West's Field tilly and a South Carolina horse
belonging to Mr. Little, Folly carrying nine pounds over weight. Folly
Morgan was a red sorrel and was bought from Capt. Moody m Raleigh in
183b.
(2) October 10, 1 S."7. At Morganton she beat Capt. McDowell's Lance
filly and A!
ier Ferkms lVter Finder by Kiott, she carrying IS pounds
over weight. Entrance fee $50.
(3) At same time and place she was beaten in two heats, of one mile each,
by A. Sherrill's Riott tilly. one heat "from the throat-latch out" and the
other by half a length. "It was believed she would have distanced the
filly if she had carried equal weight." (A case of too much jockey.)
These were all mile heats and Folly's distance is two miles." (No quar
ter horse. )
(4) Ran Polly Morgan at Wilkesborough, November, 1837, two miles
heats against Gen. Lowdermilk's Monsieur Tonson, 4-year-old horse, and
against Bogle's colt. She distance the field with ease under a hard pull.
This is a transcript of the account of four races that has been preserved
out of a record covering a racing-stable career extending over 20 years into
the future from a date when the stables and Polly Morgan were of the
same age about three years old; the remaining portions of the record, if
available, would show many victories (and some defeats) in notable events
in which the redoubtable Tolly and the other horses in the stable took
part; for Polly Morgan and others of her colleagues made great reputa
tions in racing circles. In the two heats in which Sherrill's Riott filly beat
her once "from the throat-latch out" and again "by half a length," her
fat jockey should have peraphrased Tennyson and encouraged her, in the
second heat at least, by crying out, "Half a length, half a length, half a
length onward!"
A horse having the pedigree, appearance and qualities of the three-year-year
bay tilly, Ellen White, sold to Judge Strange in 1836 for $150, would
ell today for not less than $1,000, and probably for $1,500.
The record speaks of a tine mare, Arabia by name, the property of Judge
Pearson, who rusticated, during the summer of 1837, on the mountain
pasture at Blowing Rock. Fellow-guests with Arabia were a gray .mare
and her thoroughbred colt. Grampus, the property of Bartlett Shipp of
Lincoln. Mr. Shipp, a respected friend and honored guest at Mary's Grove,
was cousin and guardian of Lucy K. Abernethy, who became the wife of
Robert C. Miller, Maj. Miller's eldest son, and was also a cousin of Nancy
Abernethy, the wife of John Perkins, Jr., Maj. Miller's uncle. A kinsman
of the Mary's Grove family used to make the whimsical complaint that
they liked Mr. Shipp better than any of their kinspeople and that, when
they spoke of "Mr. Shipp," they employed a tone of voice like that of the
wife of a second lieutenant in the army or an ensign in the navy when
she called her husband "Mr.," as if he were just a little better kind of "Mr."
than the ordinary "Mr." This was an inherited friendship, for Parson
Miller was very fond of Bartlett Shipp and his forbears. Still, he could
not always have his way with his young friend Bartlett, for the corre
spondence between Bishop Ravenscroft and Parson Miller shows that these
Reverend and Right Reverend gentlemen endeavored unsuccessfully to
induce Bartlett Shipp and Robert Burton to become Episcopal lay-readers
in Lincoln.
Commingling notices of horses and people is proper, for the horse is a
noble animal and the friendship between the thoroughbred and his master
is very fond and their relations close and intimate. Doubtless Gov. Burton
of Halifax took pride in having raised aristocratic Lucy Forrester, and her
subsequent owners, W. J. Alexander and K. P. Miller, were not less proud
of the glory she and her progeny brought to their stables or of the profit
they put in their pockets. Mr. Alexander was grandfather of the beautiful
and talented Miss Laura Alexander, who was one' of the first of the women
of North Carolina to break an old tradition in entering a public profession;
for soon after the civil war she went upon the stage, and her no less beau
tiful and charming aunt, Miss "Coosie" Wilson, beloved and admired in
all that section, went with her as a companion and was her niece's chaperon
during her theatrical career. Thus it appears that with the passing of the
old regime the character of racing changed and the thoroughbred and their
masters entered upon new careers involving much of practical utility and
no less of high breeding.
Sired by the great Bertram! and with fast Polly Morgan for her dam,
chestnut sorrel Scotia, foaled April 30, 183'J, was a princess of the blood
royal, so trim and dainty that she was never put upon the course, but was
set aside as riding horse for the only young lady of the Mary's Grove fam
ily, which consisted of seven sons and the daughter. One afternoon, as
Scotia and her young mistress were leaving Lenoir for their home at Mary's
Grove, two miles away, there rode in front of them an old citizen who sat
his horse in that bonding-forward, bundled-up and swaying attitude char
acteristic of a gentleman in his cups, and as they neared him he turned his
face upward and backward anil, in the most agreeable and soc;able. if
somewhat tipsy, manner, called out, "Whip up, my good g:il! We're both
both going the same way." The "good gal' tooK him lit his word and a
gentle touch of the crap on Scotia's Hank was all the hint she needed to
show her heels and burn the wind. Scotia had been unsaddled and unbridlcH
and had wallowed, and had about finished cropping all .the grass she cared
for on the lawn, when she raised her head and whinnied a derisive hello
at the inebriated citizen and his nag as they jogged and nodded along down
the road.
Persona! Recollections
A grandson who was eight years old when Maj. Miller died in IKiil has
some '-harming childish recollections of Mary's Grove during the last years
of the old regime. A recent visit to the old place atlorded him food for
interesting philoso; hieal reflection. Only four things remained as they
appeared to him in his childhood the graveyard (which is his own prop
erty); the grove, still beautiful but depleted; the old well, and the door
that opened into "grandmother's sitting room:" though even the grove and
the graveyard are changed. The old, door, with its curious little metal knob
and catches and its quaint battens, was one that Parson Miller had placed
in the old house when it was built in lSOli, and, long before it began to
open up the pleasures of childhood to the philosophizing visitor, it had
swung upon its hinges for the frequent comings and goings of Bishop
Ravenscroft, Bishop Ives, Bishop Atkinson, Bishop Green, John Henry
Hobart, Dr. Buxton, Dr. Thurston, Dr. Gries and scores of other ecslesias
tical and lay worthies. When the old house was torn down, many years
ago, the then owner, perhaps for sentimental reasons, saved this door and
had it set in a doorway of the new house built upon the old site. The
present owner, with rare generosity, has given the door to the whilom
small boy, who has replaced it with a modern shutter.
This boy's recollection is that in Bertrand's stead another Sultan reigned,
a fine black-bay named Puzzle, who lived in solemn, stately seclusion in a
stable built for him on the lower borders of the limbertwig orchard, where
Perry, in charge of the horses, cared for him and caressed him. Old Perry,
good old black Perry it was the joy of his heart to lead Puzzle two miles
to Lenoir, on court days and other public days, for the purpose of parading
him before the gaze of an admiring audience, the bestowal of whose praise
upon the horse was as the oil of gladness to Perry. The boy remembers
distinctly seeing the horses in the stables and hearing the race-course talk
of the negroes, but he does not remember ever having seen a race or know
ing: anything about one. It is quite evident that during the first six years
of his life he was too small to be taken to the races and, whether there were
any races then or not, he would have no recollections concerning them.
The same is probably true of him, from the age of six to eight years, though
it is very probable that in those years, owing to the distracted state of
public opinion, the minds of the community were set upon things more
serious than horse-racing and that there were no races.
Fox Hound and Game Chicken
The man, to whom the boy referred to is father, never hears a "jar-fly,"
that big locust whose raucous, strident scream from the great oaks is ac
counted portentous of hot, dry weather, or tee chanting of myriads of
swamp frogs, but he thinks of Mary's Grove. His way of getting to Mary's
Grove was generally this: His grandfather, bestriding his horse, whose head
is turned homeward from Lenoir, in the afternoon, reaches down and,
f rasping him by the left arm near the shoulder, lifts him up behind, on the
orse, where he sticks, like a toad on a tussock, holding on grimly to his
grandfather's coat-skirts. ThisMs often not accomplished without earnest
material protests which fill the urchin's heart with misgivings but do not
seem to move the grandsire at all; and what can one do under such dis
tressing circumstances? Soon, however, the spirit of depression departs
and the pleasant prospects and happy greetings on the road bring back
cheerfulness and the joy of life. As the way shortens, as the westering sun
declines and as the dark shadows of the grewaome grove envelop them,
every oak furnishes a jar-fly who joins his fellows in sawing out a savage
symphony and the frogs in the meadow take up the refrain and sing a
funeral dirge. It is then that the little lad first learns what vanity of van
ities means and realizes the futility of all human endeavor without maternal
supervision, and, Shamefacedly but sincerely, he weeps against his grand
father's back. But, harkl More, cheerful sounds are heard. The hounds
come trooping out, barking and baying around their master in welcoming
chorus; the little darkeys, scampering from the nearby quarters, run an
Olympic race in noisy competition, the goal being opening the gate for
'01e Marse;" the cheerful, ruddy lights of candles and hickory log fires
emanating through the doors and windows enliven the scene, and by the
time the small boy falls into grandmother's arms and is hugged and kissed
and patted upon the cheek and called "little tackey" by her, his tears are
dry and the world has become new and fresh and beautiful again. Where
to go and what to do next is the problem. And he fears the edict that it
is too late to go anywhere out of doors, for he had been counting on a round
of the quarters with his favorites among the young darkeys and a visit to
Uncle Jim to see the 'possum he has fattening and to learn what progress
Joe is making at putting a new handle jn the small boy's miniature axe.
There were other things it would be very agreeable to do also, as visiting
the stables, examining the chicken runs, etc., but they would "keep" till
morning, especially as he was sure that out of seven uncles there would
be enough at home to furnish 'him with choice diversion between supper
and bedtime. Much as he loved and admired his grandfather, who was
something of a valetudinarian at this time, he had no patience with his
imples diet of mush and milk, followed by hot corn pone and butter and a
glass of milk; so he contrived to be seated at the supper table near his
grandmother and regaled himself on the more toothsome dainties with
which she provided him. After supper everybody repaired to "the hall,"
in the wide fireplace of which a big log fire was blazing, the grandmother,
who always wore a "cap," sitting in one corner knitting (the most suitable
diversion for a lady at night when the brighest light was that afforded by
tallow candles and pine-knots), while the grandfather sat in the other cor
ner reading the National Intelligencer, which was not the easiest thing in
the world for an old gentleman, as was indicated by his frequent "snuffing"
of the candles. (People in those days seem to have eaten a greSt deal
more beef than they do nowadays, anil the question is raisd whether they
did not butcher the beeves, as much as for any other reason, to obtain tallow
for candles! The small boy seems to remember seeing candle "moulds"
always in process of being strung with wicks, of having the melted tallow
poured in the dozen cylinders of each mould and of being hung out in cool
places to harden The long winter nights were the cause of the burning
up and melting of millions of candles.) Be that as it may, the boy was
soon deeply interested in more or less veracious stories of hunting, fishing
and riding, and of the prodigies performed by the various animals engaged
in the chase and race, which his uncles laid themselves out to relate for
his entertainment. One of these uncles, who allowed himself to be monop
olized and tyrannized over by him, was full of folk-lore and woods-lore,
was weather-wise and knew all about animals, birds and fishes. He was
a modern Will Honeycombe, without his vagrant habits. It is true that he
divided his time largely between Mary's Grove, the gold mine and the moun
tain farm. The gold mine and the mountain farm were both located, by the
small boy's imagination, in the realm of romance and mystery. The gold
mine, he was sure, was the residence of Aladdin and his wonderful lamp,
and he had a great longing to visit the mountain farm, for "Sairy in the
Mountains," a negro woman who cooked at the mountain farm, and who
from time to time came to Mary's Grove for a change, had given him
accounts, exaggerated no doubt, of the broad acres in meadow and pasture,
of the vast droves of horses and herds of cattle on the pastures and of the
grand scenery. Later his strong desire to go to "the mountains" was grat
ified and he visited the mountain farm and Valle Crucis. He has vague
memories of horses, cattle, mountains massed upon mountains and distant
views, but the only really distinct recollection he has is that of seeing a
huge rattlesnake which his uncle, who owned Valle Crucis, kept in -a box
with a glass window, together with deer horns stuck around the walls and
bear skins spread on the floors. Dried venison hams and "mountain sugar"
made from maple syrup also rise up out of the indistinctness and claim a
place in memory. The boy was allowed to "sit up" till all the family went
to bed and the excitements of the afternoon and evening had only the
effect of closing his little eyes in draemless slumber as soon as he was well
tucked in. In the middle of the night he was waked by strains of music
he recognized as the winding of the hunters' horn rounding up the hounds
for a fox-chase, and Loud, Lumber, Music and all the pack responded in joy
ful chorus of baying up and down the gamut, from the treble of Music to
the deep bass of old Lumber. A few sharp halloos from "the boys" got the
hounds well in hand and presently they speeded, yelping, barking, baying,
off and away toward the forest. The stories the little boy had heard made
him familiar with every move to be made circling and hunting, with a
yelp of encouragement now and then from the leaders, egged on by sharp
halloos from the hunters; striking the scent and following the trail, an
nounced by the "opening" of the leader, when the whole pack joined in a
grand volume of exciting music which kept up as long as the trail was
"hot" but diminished and faded away if it grew "cold," which happened
if the wily fox back-tracked, doubled or took to water; then followed more
hunting and long-range circling till the hot trail was picked up again ;on a
hot trail the concerted baying of the hounds was resumed and became one
harmonious volume of concerted music as it grew hotter; no tongue or pen
can describe the climax of this swelling, sonorous, bounding billow of bay
ing, sweeping in waves through the forest, as the foremost hounds, in the
LAST INSTALLMENT NEXT WEEK.
Next week will complete the "Gentleman" John Perkins articles
by Mr. Scott. These articles are being printed in book form and will
be ready for distribution within the next two weeks. The price will be
$1.50 per copy. Only a limited number are being printed. Those wish
ing a copy of these articles in book form should send in their orders
now, accompanied by check.
ecstasy of the chase, caught the first distant, fleeting glimpse of Reynard's
gray brush; soon run down and exhausted, the fox was an easy prey, for in
face of a pack of hounds he could not be said to be "at bay;" the hunters
tried always be keep up with the hounds by cutting across and doubling like
a fox, in order to enjoy the music and excitement and to be in at the death
to prevent the hounds from tearing the fox to pieces. Lying tucked away
in his warm nest in bed, the little boy's imagination drew for him these
exciting pictures while he listened to the music of the horns and hounds
seamperng away to the forest, and, as the last faint notes of the sweet
music died away, he dropped off to sleep again. 'As a boy and man this was
as near as he ever came to being on a fox-hunt and he is well satisfied, for
it took a tough, hardy youngster to keep up with the hounds in the rough
woods, where "riding to the hounds" would have been out of the question.
The start was at an hour anywhere from 2 a.m. until daybreak, in order to
encounter the fox fresh upon his travels and to trail him when the dew was
on the ground and the scent was fresh and hot.
Next morning he was up bright and early, had been all around the quar
ters and seen his little black friends and had examined Uncle Jim's 'possum,
which was getting very fat and appeared to be quite as "sullen" as was
becoming in a 'possum growing in girth and devoted to a sacrifice that was
only delayed awaiting the preparedness of the accompanying sweet potatoes.
Joe had given him his toy axe, newly helved, which he kept with him as
closly as a little girl keeps her baby-doll, and as there was still plenty of
time on his hands before the breakfast bell would ring, he was engaged in
watching a function that interested him intensely. The game had been
abroad in the forest in numbers that night, and the wind had been fair that
is to say it had been gentle and had not dried up the drew and the uncles
had caught two foxes between 2 o'clock and sunup, and as the last one was
caught near home they "came in." The pelts and brushes had been nailed
up against he granary wall to dry and the carcases of the foxes, after having
been boiled in a pot prepared for the purpose, were being cut up in proper
proportions and thrown to the dogs, which caught them, as trained seals
on the vaudeville stage catch pieces of fat bacon thrown to them, and
devourd them greedily. A well-kept hound does not care for the raw flesh
of a fox but only "picks over it." By feeding them on the well-seasoned
cooked flesh they were educated to like it and their appetites joined with
their natural instincts to make them eager for success in the chase. This
pack, as their predecessors had been, were deer-hounds as well as fox
hounds, but as deer was less plentiful than formerly the fox was a more
frequent quarry than deer. A pack of beagles was once introduced but it
was soon discovered that these shorUlegged little hounds were fit only for
rabbits, and as the rabbit, like the 'possum, was "nigger game," they were
not kept busy. The little boy's uncle Will Honeycombe was something of
a heretic in this particular, for he caught rabbits, generally by trapping
them, for their "hams," which he dried just as venison hams are dried.
Dried venison is delicious, but, by comparison, dried rabbit ham is as frog
legs to mutton chops, and the small boy was never happier than when he
came into possession of a "ham."
After breakfast there was much to do visiting the stables, riding a
gentle horse and so forth. But a surce of never-ending interest and enter
tainment was the chicken run, in which only game chickens were raised,
and only one breed of them, the Arrington Games or Raleigh Reds. They
were called Arrington Games because Maj. Miller got the stock from Sen
ator Arrington of Nash, a colleague in the General Assembly and the pop
ular and alliterative name of Raleigh Reds was given to them because the
cocks were always of some shade of red in color and because Maj. Miller
was supposed to have brought them with him in his hands, their legs tied
together, when he returned from the Legislature at Raleigh. They were
notable fighters and the stock still ranks high among the dominant breeds
in this section. Besides the Mary's Grove run there were runs at the gold
mine and at the mountain farm. The chickens were smaller and lighter in
weight than chickens not pugilistically inclined, but those familiar with
them have always maintained that no broiler was ever quite so tender and
toothsome as a game spring chicken. The little boy has never to this day
seen a chicken fight except as between roosters who of their own will and
accord have entered upon hostilities, but in those days there is no denying
that there were cocking mains held. "Other times, other customs" again
comes to the rescne. It had been a strenuous day and by the time the boy
had finished supper he could scarcely keep his eyelids apart, so he was put
to bed and fell asleep as soon as he "touched the feathers."
After a full night's rest he rose with the sun, and it seemed to him that
Mammy Sophy was just trying herself to delay having 'breakfast till dinner
time, and after she had served it away up in the day (according to his
computation), that his grandfather, who had promised to take him home
after breakfast, was inventing excuse upon excuse to attend to first one
trivial piece of business after another before starting. There had never
b?en a mule or a pair of shafts at Mary's Grove and, jinless you walked,
the only way to gut away from there was to drive a pair of horses to a
buggy or carriage or to ride one. The very convenience of it made horse-
back riding a common mode of transportation. At last the little boy was
perched up behind his grandfather on his way to town and to his mother.
The love of the little boy for his sweet young mother and her love for
him what can measure it? At the first sight of her dear face such a great 1
joy entered into his heart that it could not hold it and he fell into her arms
and sobbed upon her breast, and she fondled and caressed him and mingled
her tears wtih his. Then they loved each other back to joy and gladness
and lightness of heart and the world was bright and happy again for both.
(To be Concluded Next Week)
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31
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