Yesterday I had a call from an Alabama cousin I'd never met -- the grandson of Lillie Belle, one of my grandfather's sisters. He has some family information to share with me and I, in turn, sent him links to several blog posts I've done on the Northcutts.
Re-reading this one, I decided to post it again. (Still no camera.)
William Benjamin Northcutt
Born just after the War Between the States
Into red clay Reconstruction Alabama.
A farmer and a farmer's son.
At twenty-two he married
Red-headed, eighteen year old Lucy Camella Glenn
And they moved from Forest Home to Evergreen.
Just over a year and their first child was born
My mother's father, Victor Huborn,
Who told me, how when he was young
His mother took him and his brothers and sisters
(John and Lillie Belle, William and Lallah)
To visit her parents -- a day's drive away.
Coming back at twilight, drowsy children wrapped in quilts ,
A storm came up and the creek they had to ford
Was running high and wild.
"The mules didn't want to cross it,"
The old man told me, leaning forward, his eyes ablaze,
"But that girl, she slapped the lines across their rumps,
Told those mules to 'Git up!'
Told those mules to 'Git up!'
And we all got home that night."
Eighty some years ago and the memory was so fresh
That I could see my great-grandmother -- 'that girl,'
Determined to get her brood home safe
And out of the wet Alabama woods.
Lucy Camella died when my grandfather was twelve --
And widowed William, no time to grieve
with six young children and a crop in the fields,
Married a handy cousin.
Minnie Lula Northcutt Northcutt
Gave him two more children.
But my grandfather, still grieving
Left home.
31 comments:
Oh such a sad story wonderfully told.
Superb photographs, Vicki, but what a life they had. It seems that having a 'handy cousin', following the loss of a partner, sometimes proved to be the only way forward during these hard times. I've found some evidence of this in my own family tree.
Very hard time, hard life, no time to feel pity ...
Wasn' it damageable to be "red-headed", in former times ?
I noticed th beautiful tint of red in the old photo.
Vicki, what at interesting story. My family had handy cousins also. It must have been a sign of the times.
Sam
intriguing tale of family history...imagine that you pull from these in your writing...
Eventually my grandfather became reconciled to the reason for his father's re-marriage and came to speak fondly of 'Cousin Minnie.'
Re red hair, Miss Yves, I think you're right. Didn't Jo of LITTLE WOMEN have trouble selling her red hair? And there's a saying in the South --"treated like a red-headed step child" which means treated like something unwanted.
I don't know for sure, but suspect that my great grandmother must have been recovering from a bad fever which necessitated the short haircut.
All these stories will find their places, Brian, never fear!
I do feel a wee bit sorry for the 'handy cousin'!
What a wonderful story.
Hard times, hard places . . . practicality demanded a little hardening of the emotions.
This is such a beautiful story. Thanks for sharing it.
How very interesting Vicki. Isn't it wonderful to have the photos too.
I hadn't heard that quote about red hair. How sad. Personally, I like red hair very much. However I don't envy the people who have red hair and the skin to match in the strong sunlight you enjoy over there.
Might add here that I have never experienced heat or sun like it till I came to Tennessee. In England the sun is rarely overhead and when it is, it is never as searingly hot, EVER. There are day when I feel like I'm going to die over there and yet I see other people walking about seemingly ok with it. Larry calls me his hothouse orchid because I am so delicate about it. Also I drink about three times more water than he does, which is because he is used to the heat and I am not.
Blessings, Star
Blessings, Star
ahh great portraits and a nice tale. I can feel the wind and wet as she got those mules to cross the creek. I have learned in our family histories too that the women died off and the men married again to get care for the brood and added more.
My grandparents and greats had a very hard life! Can you imagine us going through some of the stuff that they did? or the kids now a days? Love your photos!
You have made them come alive; you know your trade, Vicki.
There's a colonial cemetery in Atlanta in which two wives of one man share a common monumnet dedicated to Lucy and Laura, beloved wives of.... He's not buried with them. I know there's a story there, but so far I haven't been able to find it.
Lynne in GA
I hate it that I know so little and didn't ask more questions back when there were folks left to question.
I'm swept away by the levels of emotion here..terrific history!
Seems widowers had to marry handy cousins in the day, to take over the household. Sad your grandfather felt the need to leave home at such a tender age. I think you've inherited some of Lucy's spunk!
I enjoyed that poetic telling of their story...your story. Ancestors' lives seemed 'hard' in retrospect, but I think usually, when they were 'in it', it didn't necessarily seem hard, it just was what it was. So much of the time, we put our own current emotions into the past, and it was an entirely different time...without something to compare it to, there may not have been much thought about it being 'hard'. You know? Many cultures or lifestyles may seem that way to us...but it isn't to them, it just is what it is...unless and until someone points it out to them. Sorry to run on...just made me think and go...hmmm!
Great story Vicki and love the way you told it. Our ancestors were tough, hardy folks and knew how to 'suck it up and go on'. When the wife died, her sister was also often the next wife to raise her children (and of course add more to the mix!). My Grandmother's mom did that after her sister died.
Have a great weekend!
Tammy
Oh, I love the way you told that story, Vicki.
Wonderful piece of family history. One of my 2x great grandfathers remarried a handy relative when his first wife died. The photos are wonderful
In a few words you have sketched a fascinating story. Marriage was as much a survival mechanism as a love thing in those days. My own grandmother died young and my grandfather then married her sister, my great aunt, who herself was widowed.
Yep, folks back then were a lot better at 'git 'er done' without a lot of whining and breast beating. Not a lot of options.
I am awed by the strength of our ancestors. Their lives were so difficult compared to ours. So sad- and I feel for the kids...and the cousin. Happened once or twice in my family too.
So here is where you come from my dear... now I understand!!!
Eventually I'll do a post on my grandfather -- the one who left home at 12. He went from sharecropping to bookeeping to bank examiner to bank president in the course of a long well-lived life.
Wonderful memories-and pics. She was one tough girl : )
Great to read about your ancestry, Vicki. And I realize that you posted this before I started reading your blogs...a small thing in the scheme of many others.
I suspect that that second marriage was not altogether a happy one, kids or no.
I love these stories. Only wish I knew more about my grandparents. One set died before I was born, the other were old and after raising 9 kids really were a bit worn out. I still remember my grandmother though, especially her cooking. Thank you for sharing Vicki. xx
What a story Vicki. My ancestors had a very interesting time in Western Carolina. Two doctors one a KKK organizer of all things. He was run out of Western North Carolina and settled in South Carolina. My maternal Grandfather would be gone for days from some holler on the road to Greenville with a mule and wagon hauling whatever was ripe or big enough to slaughter. He would take all this to Greenville, SC and return with supplies. He was only 19. As memory has it he died in 1966 at 90. He moved to Hendersonville. He married Margaret Wafford and ran the essayers office for Henderson County.They had 4 children one of which was my mother. This would make him about 19 or 20 when he drove that wagon. if my memory serves me right. His name was George Washington Brooks. You caused all these memories to jump back in my head. Thanks Vicki.
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