Harmon Maybin Harmon Maybin was born in western Newberry County SC. His father, Ruben Maybin, worked a small farm about a mile west of the Island Ford Road. This farm was separated from the Main Road by almost a mile of forestland on what was then referred to as the ‘Wicker Place’. Little River was nearby.
In the fall of the year many visitors used to come to the Maybin Farm as they made their way to the river swamp to gather ‘scaly bark’. These were the tasty nuts of a tree belonging to the hickory family. At other times hunters came to this area to shoot squirrels and rabbits or to hunt possum and coons at night. Several kinds of berries flourished on the Maybin land and Mr. Maybin constantly experimented with unusual plants. It was in this pleasant location that the five Maybin children, two sons and three daughters, grew up. The Maybin children attended the Burton School, a small one room, one teacher institution, about three miles from the Maybin home. Of course it was necessary for the children to walk to school. In Newberry, automobiles and buses did not exist at the time.
At school the Maybin children did quite well. They were all smart. At recess time at school the children played several kinds of games. A favorite game was ‘paddy-cat’ and was played with two bats and a hand-made ball. But a new game called ‘baseball’ had been introduced into the community and was becoming increasingly popular.
Harmon Maybin, the younger of the two Maybin boys, was an exceptionally good baseball player. In those days few people in rural areas took a newspaper, but late in 1914 disquieting rumors began spreading in America. In Imperial Germany Kaiser Wilhelm was fanning the flames of a great war that was already engulfing most of the continent of Europe. In America most people thought of the war overseas as a distant conflict that had nothing to do with the United States. A few years passed and then, one Sunday afternoon at Trinity Methodist Church, young Richard Maybin, the brother to Harmon, rose and made a short speech. He told the astounded churchgoers that he was resigning as Sunday School Superintendent at Trinity Church and was about to enlist in the US Navy. The congregation accepted the resignation with deep regret. Richard Maybin soon departed.
A few months later, just as Richard had feared would happen, did indeed occur. The persistent attacks on American merchant ships by German submarines drew America, very reluctantly, into the World War. Harmon Maybin, the younger of the two Maybin brothers, was soon drafted into military service. After completing his basic training he was informed that he would soon be sent to Europe. He was allowed to return home for a few days before leaving for Europe and was the show of the community. He was very handsome in his uniform and the ladies all sighed with anticipation for the opportunity to be escorted by him at a social function. But the leave was all too short and after a few days this young man and his comrades stood on the heaving deck of their ship as she breasted a rough sea. The shores of America receded in the distance. Other heavily laden ships steamed nearby and a cordon of US Destroyers in a great circle guarded the troop ships against attack by hostile submarines.
Several days later the convoy entered a closely guarded harbor on the coast of France. Then, after boarding a quaint French railway, the newly arrived troops moved up close to the far extended battlefront. Finally a tremendous allied offensive breached the formidable Hindenburg Line, which the Germans had considered impregnable. Then, in the face of the desperate enemy resistance, the armies of America, Great Britain, France, and Belgium fought their way northward toward the German Rhineland. The French roadsides were strewn with the bodies of dead men and horses as well as the wreckage of hundreds of wagons and motor trucks, all hit by artillery fire. In later years Harmon, like most other combat veterans, would tell very little about what happened during the desperate fighting which characterized the latter days of the war in northern France. He said that he had seen the war and impoverished French women washing their clothes in the cold waters of rapidly flowing rivers. Beyond that, he would not speak of his experiences.
Armistice day came at last. Kaiser Wilhelm fled to Holland. A provisional Government headed by liberal statesmen, took control in the war-exhausted Germany and the great conflict was over.
For a time many of the American Troops were assigned to help the French as they began the laborious task of repairing and rebuilding the damaged and ruined homes in northern France. After a few weeks many of the American troops were moved to French seaports and from there the weary ‘Dough-Boys’ were sent home to America, as soon as transportation became available.
It is not remembered when Harmon was discharged but he celebrated the event by coming directly home and spending a few days visiting family and friends. Unfortunately, the Maybin family now had no home. During the War Years, with both of his Sons in the war, the father, Reuben Maybin, had a hard struggle as he tried to operate his farm with no help. One day he hitched his two mules to a mower and went to a field to cut hay. During the operation the mower struck a small bush at one edge of the field and several teeth of the mower blade were badly bent. Mr. Maybin stopped his mules, dismounted, straightened the bent teeth with a pair of pliers and began to sharpen the blade with a file. All of a sudden the mules pulled forward unexpectedly and one of Rubin Maybin’ s legs was badly cut. In spite of medical care it was necessary to amputate the leg below the knee.
With both of his sons away in France it was impossible for him to work his farm. Because of the manpower shortage due to the war no hired help was available. As a result, with a deep discouragement, Rubin Maybin felt obliged to give up his farm.
After the war, Richard Maybin found work in a mill store. Harmon found it more difficult to find work and was approached one day by a good neighbor and childhood friend, Jesse Foster Senn. Mr. Senn was seriously short of help. Many of his pre-war helpers did not want to return to farm work after holding the high industrial jobs during the war years. As a result rural labor was in serious neglect.
Mr. Senn invited Harmon Maybin to work for him for a time. He was to live in the house with the Senn Family, plow a fast mule called ‘Titanic’ and cultivate as much land as he was able. Harmon gladly accepted the proposal and was treated almost as an honored guest. Charlie and Jesse, the two small Senn sons, adored their handsome visitor. They loved to bring him books and magazines and they listened raptly while Harmon turned the pages and explained the pictures in them. Early every morning Harmon would hitch the mule called ‘Titanic’ to a plow and go to the field. It was amazing to see how much land that mule and long-legged man could plow in a day. Harmon worked the crop well and made a good harvest on two successive years. When the peach crop ripened in the large Senn Orchard, Mr. Foster Senn was much too busy to harvest and sell the fruit and Harmon assumed the job. In those days the fruit was sold locally about twelve miles away in the town of Newberry by peddling door to door. Harmon was very successful in selling the fruit, for in those days mass marketing of fruit scarcely existed in the south. Women did a good amount of canning and pickling in those days because fruit was still only a seasonal luxury.
Two big crab apple trees on the Senn farm were prized by the Newberry Women for making jelly, applesauce and jarred fruits for pies etc. Charlie and Jesse Senn use to help Harmon Maybin pick the fruit and occasionally accompanied him when he peddled in the town. One house in particular was a favorite of the Senn boys, the home of ‘Aunt Sudie’.
But after two years of farming Harmon wanted to try a new way of earning money and became a ‘drummer’ or traveling salesman. The departure saddened the Senn boys.
Harmon Maybin made many new friends in his travels peddling ‘Witkins Remedy’. In the small town of Hickory Grove the charming gentleman met the woman who stole his heart. Harmon married and settled down in Hickory Grove and eventually became mayor of the town. A few years later Federal Law required him to resign as Mayor when he accepted the position of Postmaster of Hickory Grove.
The rest of his years were spent in the same town but before he died he requested that his body be interred at Trinity Methodist Church in Newberry, among the people and scenes of his happy childhood. At the age of 90 years this writer still remembers with great pleasure that wonderful adult friend of long ago, Harmon Maybin. 
A Visit to Beaufort
Many years ago this writer’s cousin Dr. Hugh B. Senn, was the health doctor of Beaufort County SC. During this time a health doctor was entitled to a vacation of two weeks annually. However, Dr. Senn seldom took more than two days of his vacation at once. He preferred to spread the days throughout the year and this allowed him to enjoy the society of visitors.
Near Beaufort, the main source of employment was the oyster industry. Basket-like oyster traps were used. There were several oyster-packing plants in the area and cousin Dr. Senn went to the packing plants several times a year to inoculated the workers. He traveled to the plants by boat, taking his brief case and medical kit. On one occasion the boat sent to transport the doctor was being ferried by two drunken boatmen. Once out at sea the two drunken boatmen maneuvered the small motor launch as if they were crazy and bent on suicide. So much salt water came flooding aboard that any large wave would capsize the boat. The doctor spent the entire trip bailing water furiously.
In the 1920’s Dr. Hugh invited his two first cousins, Jesse Foster Senn and his sister Dollie Mae Senn, a teacher, to visit him at his home in Beaufort SC.
Foster and Dollie Mae Senn started on their way accompanied by several small Senn children. All the children, except the oldest named Charlie, were left at their grandfather McMillan’s home near Ehrhardt in Bamburg County SC. Then Foster, Dollie Mae and Charlie proceeded toward the coast. Great flooded swamps bordered the road in many places. Gigantic Cypress trees, Gum trees with enormous swollen bases and huge buttress-like roots stood in the dark waters of the swamps. This dark water was not dirty. The dark color was caused by tannic acid leaching from the roots of the great trees.
High above the dark waters towered the wide spread branches of the great trees. Thick streams of long, gray Spanish moss, often many feet in length dangled from the lofty branches, swinging with an occasional breeze.
There were waterfowl of various colors and the branches were laden with nests of large birds. The winged birds glided their way through the perpetual twilight, which was the shadow of these mighty forest giants. In the dark water of the flooded swamp lay tree branches, torn from the large trees long ago by great storms. Turtles, lizards, snakes and alligators used these branches. In some areas small streams wended their way through those huge flooded swamps. Invariably, bordering these little watercourses were masses of lovely water lilies.
The travelers reached Beaufort before darkness. The pleasant home of the health doctor was easily found. Meacie, Dr. Hugh Senn’s wife, received the guests into the home, a warm, tastefully furnished and immaculately clean abode. A good supper was provided proving our hostess was quite outstanding in her culinary skills.
Next day Dr. Hugh and his Portuguese fisherman ‘Uncle Tony’ took everyone out on a fishing expedition on Port Royal sound, a waterway near Beaufort.
Beyond this waterway lay the large island of Hilton Head, named for an early explorer. We were told only a few white people lived on the island but several black families lived there. Their language was Gullah, derived from Angola, the name of a vast tribal area along the western coast of Africa. The Gullah dialect of these black islanders of the South Carolina coast was a mixture of African words and the speech of scotch overseers in the time before the American Revolution. But English was slowly displacing the Gullah dialect.
Our black helper spoke Gullah. It was hard to understand him but he warned us against the danger of riding in a boat with our bare feet dangling in the water. He said that a shark could easily dart up from below, bite off both feet and vanish without ever being seen by the people in the boat.
We made a good catch of fish in Port Royal Sound that day. Then Dr. Senn and I temporarily forgot the warning about the sharks. We went for a very pleasant swim. Luckily for us, no man-eating fish appeared that day. We swam in the pleasant waters off Hilton Head Island but did not go ashore there.
Before leaving the area we made a very interesting visit to Fort Fremont, a long abandoned fortification of the Spanish American War days. Various ghost stories are told about the old fortress. We also heard interesting stories of Hilton Head Island, beyond the Port Royal Sound.
There, several thousand black people raised the ‘Carolina Golden Rice’ and various kinds of vegetables for their own use plowing the fields and gardens with yoked oxen. The same oxen were also used to pull wagons, sleds and carts. It was said that further north, in the Santee River Valley, the oxen pulled buggies.
On our return journey from the fishing trip we stopped at a neat white cottage with a big front porch, the home of a good black woman who made a business of cleaning and dressing fish for visitors. Occasionally the guests would ask their hostess to cook their fish for them. Then the visitors would enjoy a delicious meal while seated on the big front porch.
After a pleasant visit at our Cousin Senn’s in Beaufort we departed for home.
As we motored along the road between the rice fields and the great swamps of the flat low country we noticed an ominous change developing in the weather. We recalled that several times when we had been out to St. Helena Sound ‘Uncle Tony’, the old Portuguese fisherman, had been seen standing and watching the clouds. He explained that he could see at very high altitudes some tiny wisps of clouds moving landward at high speed. This, he had said, indicated the approach of a hurricane.
We reached my grandfather’s home near Ehrhardt without trouble. The younger brothers had greatly enjoyed their visit to the home of their grandparents but reluctantly gathered their belongings for the trip homeward.
As we took to the road again we could see dark clouds beginning to close in from the east. About an hour later the hurricane swooped down in all its fury. It became quite dark. Rain fell in torrents and visibility dropped to almost zero. The wind battered the car violently and torrents of rain water from the adjacent fields poured across the roads. Our car motor drowned out. Consequently we were obliged to sit there in the car on a flooded road until morning. The storm blew itself away during the night and next morning to our surprise, our car motor started readily. Within an hour we were again at home in Newberry County. In the past seventy five years many changes have occurred to the South Carolina coastline. The once thriving oyster industry has been almost destroyed and the black islanders have been selling their land to retired businessmen and retirees. The ox-drawn ploughs and two-wheeled carts have vanished from the rice fields. The rice fields themselves have been replaced with paved roads, streets and modern suburban areas. Modern buildings and palatial mansions have replaced the simple cottages of the good black islanders. The Gullah language is dying out and is being replaced with modern English. Islander fishing boats have been replaced with motor boats and yachts. There has been greatly improved education and medical attention to the South Carolina coastal area but much of the interesting and beautiful of the old order passes forever.
Samuel Tribble
In the Stone Age there were many tribal wars. Quite often war captives were killed and eaten. Later, it was found useful to keep the captives alive, and put them to work. For a long time slavery existed in every land, including Egypt and the Holy Land in biblical times. Slavery was a way of life, not considered wrong, and seen as a better alternative than to the slaying of the captives.
In Africa slavery lasted long after it had disappeared in Europe. Indeed, slavery is believed to exist in some remote areas of the ‘Dark Continent’ even today. African tribes, which had a surplus of slaves quite often, sold some of their unneeded workers to professional slave traders. Some of the traders were Arabs, but many such traders were native black Africans.
These slave traders would chain their captives and march them in gangs to seaports along the African Coast. Quite often these chained captives were forced to carry goods such as elephant tusks, animal hides and other trade goods as they struggled along on their into captivity.
In various old towns along the African coast there were slave-trading stations, some centuries old. The stations were strongly fortified stone fortresses containing dungeons for imprisonment. From time to time ‘Yankee’ slave ships from New England would visit the slave stations along the coast of Africa and buy cargoes of slaves to carry back to the colonies in the West Indies or in North America.
For a long time slaves inhabited every part of the English colonies in North America but the climate in the northern colonies proved unfavorable to the slavery. The short growing seasons and early frosts in the north made it impossible to grow stable crops such as cotton, rice, sugar cane and indigo plants. So the northern plantation owners started to sell their slaves to traders who took their human merchandise to the warmer colonies in the south. There the slaves were used to raise crops in longer and more favorable growing seasons. Eventually, even the slave owners in the middle colonies of Maryland and Delaware sold a large percentage of their slaves to the traders.
One of the slaves had been an African king. He had taken some of his enemies down to the coast to sell to the Yankee traders but his enemies seized him and sold him into slavery also. This erstwhile king ended his days on a rice plantation on the Edisto River, near the coast in South Carolina.
On another occasion a Yankee trader bought some slaves on a plantation in Maryland and transported them southward. Among those captives were two brothers. One brother was sold to a plantation owner in Edgefield, an area today known as Saluda County SC. The other brother became the property of the Tribble plantation in Newberry County SC.
The Tribble Family was moderately wealthy, owning a large area of land. The ‘big house’ or mansion was built on a hill about a mile behind the present day Belmont Baptist Church. This is on a short road between Belfast Road and Island Ford Road. The Tribbles were pleased with their new farm hand and treated him well, calling him Samuel. The strong energetic black man proved to be a splendid and willing worker. He was very loyal to his master’s family and the family developed a special liking toward him. It was a great pleasure for the young white boys to take Sam with them at night when they went possum or coon hunting. Several years of contentment passed but then the terrible and ruinous War Between the States began.
Samuel’s ‘young marster’ prepared to go away to join the Confederate Army in Virginia but before leaving he decided to take his servant Samuel with him.
Several campaigns and many terrible battles occurred. During one such expedition in Maryland, the southern troops passed only a short distance from the plantation where Samuel had grown up.
Then General Lee pushed northward into Pennsylvania hoping to win a victory that would bring an end to the war. But at Gettysburg the Confederate Army suffered a great defeat. Thousands of corpses in blue and gray uniforms littered the great battlefield.
Samuel Tribble disappeared the night following the battle. The southern troops naturally thought Samuel had deserted to the enemy.
A few weeks later, Samuel came back and entered the southern lines again. He tried to explain his absence by saying the Yankees had captured him and put him to work but he had finally escaped. ‘Marster’ Pvt. Tribble believed his servant’s story but many of the other southern soldiers did not. These men said Samuel had actually deserted to the enemy but the Yanks had put him to work and worked him so hard that he deserted again and returned to the southern army. The men felt that Sam was quite likely to desert to the enemy again. Such men, by their constant jibes, made Samuel’s life miserable.
What happened next is a matter of controversy.
Samuel again disappeared from the Southern Army. Of course the men thought he had again deserted, but the indications are that Samuel’s ‘Marster’ in compassion, because of the way his servant was being persecuted, gave Sam permission to go home.
If this happened however, the ‘Marster” made a great blunder. He should have written a letter of explanation stating his servant had permission to return home. This would have simplified matters somewhat.
But ‘Marster’ was probably half literate. He probably did not even think of trying to write such a letter and he did not ask anyone else to write such a letter for his departing servant. This soon proved to be a great mistake.
Upon leaving the Confederate Army, Samuel attached himself to an elderly General who was going southward on business. The General seemed kind enough to the black man and Samuel found it was a pleasure to do things for the general. Unfortunately, the name of the General is now forgotten. Once Charlotte NC was reached Samuel knew where he was and so he regrettably parted company with his new-found friend and set out across the countryside.
There was no trouble in reaching Newberry County and in making his way to his home on the Tribble Plantation. The family and friends welcomed him. But soon trouble began. Some meddlesome neighbor reported to the police that Samuel had deserted his Master and had slipped away from the Army in Virginia to come home.
The police promptly went to visit Samuel and since Samuel had no documents to prove otherwise, it seemed certain the man was a deserter and a run-away. As was to be expected Samuel was promptly arrested and imprisoned in Newberry on a charge of desertion.
When ‘Marster’ returned home after the War he promptly cleared his servant’s record and saw to it that Samuel was released from jail. But the war had ruined the Tribble Family fortune. Mr. Tribble was not able to give Samuel the help of a mule but did give Samuel a large area of land along Machine Branch and told Samuel he was free to cultivate that farmland. A neat little cottage with a big chimney stood on the property. Samuel was told he was free to live there. Instead of a mule, Samuel was presented with a big bull, a yoke, a plow stock and the good wishes of his former master. As a freed man Samuel assumed the name Samuel Tribble.
Samuel collected boards, cut posts in the woods and built a small corral for cattle and hogs. He built stables, a chicken house and a huge pen. Later a corncrib and a cotton storage house were built. But the building of these structures was costly, difficult, and took much time.
The spring plowing season arrived and Sam began rising as soon as the roosters began to crow. He would feed his bull, cook a hasty breakfast in a frying pan at the big open fireplace and set out for a day’s work as soon as his bull had finished eating. Sam would put a yoke on the bull and drive it to the field while Sam himself carried the plow on his shoulder. All morning the man and his bull would plow steadily. At noon, Sam would feed the bull, cook a hasty dinner for himself, then soon after, return to the field to plow until growing darkness forced him to quit for the day.
Sam made a good cotton crop that year. With the proceeds from his crop he then purchased a good mule and turned his faithful bull out to pasture. The advantage of plowing with a mule instead of a bull was that a mule walks faster than an ox. Thus considerably more land can be plowed in a day with a mule than would otherwise be possible. However, in pulling heavy loads an ox was greatly superior to a mule.
Samuel gathered posts and poles from the nearby woods and constructed a stout corral in which he could confine his mule as well as other animals that he might own later. He also built a stable, feed trough and storage area.
A second year of hard work was rewarded by another good crop. Sam pulled fodder (long corn leaves) in his cornfield and tied it in bundles so that it could be stored and used as mule feed later. He harvested and stored the corn. During the following winter some of the corn would be shelled and ground into meal for use in baking corn bread or boiling of grits. Most of the corn however would be used in feeding the livestock – mules, chickens, hogs and geese. From the proceeds of the cotton crop of the second year Samuel bought land.
Samuel became acquainted with a fine young woman in a nearby community and decided to get married. A local minister, probably the white minister of Mount Zion Baptist Church, performed the wedding ceremony. It soon became evident that Sam had made a very good choice in his mate. The lady was courteous and friendly. Everyone liked her. Mrs. Tribble was a good cook. She also seemed to know how to do almost everything concerning the running of a household. This good wife could take cotton or wool, card it (comb it) so as to get all the fibers running in one direction. Then she would spin it into thread, using an old fashioned spinning wheel. This thread was then slowly and carefully fitted into a small loom and with much patience good cloth was woven from the thread. Various dyes were abstracted from the plants in the surrounding fields and forests and used on the homespun cloth.
Mrs. Tribble was a good seamstress, making clothing for herself, husband and growing family of children. She also knew many of the wild plants as well as garden herbs that could be used for medical purposes. As a result it was seldom necessary for the Tribble family to call a doctor when someone was ill.
Samuel Tribble, at an early age, had learned how to butcher hogs in winter. The animal was killed and its carcass was stretched on planks laid on the ground. Then, with the aid of scalding water and short handled hoes, all the hair was carefully scraped away. The carcass was then hung up by the hind legs. The intestines were removed and carefully saved. Then the carcass was dismembered and cut into pieces known as ‘ribs’, ‘hams’, and ‘shoulders’. These big chunks of meat were salted and hung up in a smoke house. There the curing process was completed by smoking the meat over a small fire of burning hickory. The entrails (intestines) were cleaned by scalding and washing them. After being dried these entrails were used as containers of grounded meat, commonly known as sausage or pudding. These two foods were considered the best part of a hog.
Sorghum cane was ground with a small cane grinder powered by a mule walking in a circle. The juice from the process was cooked in a big steel vat. The tasty black molasses produced a valued and much enjoyed food for use in winter. The Tribble cows produced plenty of milk, some of which was churned into butter. Chickens and geese provided the family with plenty of eggs.
When a calf was killed its hide was always carefully saved. The loose meat and all the hair were removed by scraping. Then the hide was well soaked in a small pool of water with a large quantity of red oak bark. When the hide was ‘cured’ it was removed, washed and dried. This was leather of a quality that could be used in making hamstrings, shoelaces, harnesses, plow gears and shoes.
Mrs. Tribble and her children harvested fruit from trees on abandoned farms. Peaches could be peeled, cut into fragments, dried in sunlight and preserved in bags for use in the winter. Cabbage was cut into fragments and packed tightly in barrels with vinegar and salt. Vinegar was made from apple juice. Cow peas and lima beans were stored in bags and hung up in the pantry for use in the following winter. Hardwood ashes, soaked in water, produced lye, which was cooked with bones and grease to make lye soap. Sweet potatoes were raised in large quantities, dug up, washed, dried and stacked in big cone-shaped mounds. These mounds were covered with layers of fine straw and cornstalks. These potato banks protected the stored vegetable from freezing during even the harshest winter. There was an endless supply of fish and rabbit from nearby sources. Occasionally a hollow tree would yield a wild bees’ nest and plenty of honey.
The neighbors said that Sam Tribble and his wife managed to save every penny that they ever made. Samuel Tribble continued to buy land, year after year until he owned up to 1700 acres before he died. This land extended along the Island Ford Road almost all the way from the Belfast Road to Little River. After the Civil War land had been sold at bank closures for pennies on the dollar and Samuel had taken advantage of the sales.
In those days the whites and the blacks attended the same churches. Usually the blacks sat in an elevated gallery while the whites occupied the main floor of the church. But several unscrupulous men, many of who were whites and some of who were black began to make corn liquor and sell it to the younger men. As a result, much disorder began to develop among the black members in the gallery of Mount Zion Baptist Church. Mr. Floyd, one of the leading members of the Church, set aside several acres of his plantation and announced he was donating this land to the black members of the church for the purpose of them establishing their own church. Sam Tribble, a natural Leader, headed a committee, laboring hard to persuade the black people to work together in building the new house of worship. Plans were drawn, money was collected and the construction commenced. Square nails were used in the construction. The women provided noon meals for the workers and under Sam Tribble’s leadership the building was completed. In those days a plantation called ‘Belmont’ existed in the area just north of the new Church. Belmont (beautiful hill) was the name of city in northeastern France.
The members of the new black church decided to call their new house of worship ‘Belmont’ because of its proximity to the well-known plantation of that name.
Belmont had been built from the lumber of pine trees found growing on the church grounds. Borrowed wagons were used to haul the lumber to nearby sawmills. Later the green lumber was hauled back to the building site, stacked and allowed to dry. The area, which was cleared when these trees were cut, was reserved for use as a cemetery. It was soon used, for in those days before modern medicines and vaccinations for communicable diseases, most people did not live very long.
Once Belmont Church was built, Sam Tribble decided he wanted to be a minister of the Gospel. He thought he ought to be permitted to preach in the new church, despite some opposition of members. Sam preached on a few occasions but he was not a good pulpit man. His lack of education was a fatal handicap along with his inability to deliver the ‘hell, fire, and brimstone’ type of sermon that the members of Belmont wanted. On one occasion the Belmont Deacons invited a well-known minister to come for a visit. The preacher’s name is now quite forgotten but a part of what he said is still remembered. During the church services, when it came time for the visiting minister to speak to the congregation, the visiting minister rose in the pulpit and in a loud, sonorous voice intoned, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow, on Sam Tribble and these Belmont Devils here below”. Sam afterward told the visitor, “I’ll live to see the geese eat grass off your grave”. This however was a mistake, for the offending visitor outlived Samuel.
Sam Tribble was deeply discouraged because of his mistreatment at the hands of the people of Belmont and in his anger and dismay went to a place in the woods just south of the Belfast Road, a place only a short distance form the present home of Claud Riddle. There, Sam and his friends cut poles and built a ‘Brush Arbor’, a large framework built of poles and covered with brush. Logs were cut and rolled into position to serve as seats and a good pulpit was made of boards.
In this place Sam Tribble preached to many people. Then disaster struck.
A few miles away lived a middle aged black man who had a young wife. For various reasons the marriage of these two people hit upon a rocky course and the wife ran away and ‘took up’ with a man who was only slightly older than she was.
At home the deserted husband sat grieving. One night this lonely man happened to think that his run away wife and her new man were probably seated beneath the recently constructed brush arbor, singing hymns and listening to Sam Tribble preach. This angry, aggrieved man decided on revenge. He took down his double-barreled gun, loaded it, and went furtively to the brush arbor.
From a short distance away this angry rascal blazed away at the crowd seated beneath the arbor, wounding at least seven or eight people. One of these wounded people was Reason Wilson, an honest and truly worthy black man whom this writer remembers with deep respect. It happened that the home of Dr. W. D. Senn was only a short distance away. Dr. Senn had a very busy night.
However, the troublemaker did not escape. Some boys had seen what he had done and as soon as his gun was empty they ran him down, took his weapon from him and gave him a good beating. Soon afterward a judge gave him a sentence that took him out of circulation for a long time.
Samuel Tribble continued his efforts to preach a little longer but finally, in deep discouragement, he was forced to the conclusion that the Good Lord had not given him the talents and the ability to be a minister of the Gospel.
In 1882 a new white neighbor arrived in the community along the Island Ford Road. Charles Walker Senn, a gentleman of northern Swiss origin, purchased a farm, which for many years had been Floyd family property. This area of Newberry SC (Township #6) was originally called ‘Floyd Township’. A Williams family was living on the land when Charles Walker Senn contracted to buy the farm with a down payment. In 2003 the same land is called the ‘Windmill Farm’.
With the versatility and energy of his Swiss ancestors, Mr. Senn was a man of many skills. He was a good farmer, furniture maker, carpenter, blacksmith, tanner and shoemaker. Sam Tribble soon formed a firm friendship with this versatile and highly gifted neighbor. It was indeed a great blessing to have such a skillful man as Mr. Senn to sharpen plows, shoe horses and mules and do blacksmith work.
Prior to the arrival of the Senn family, farmers had considered it a disgrace to have plow lines or furrows in anything but straight lines. Wooden stakes were driven in the fields and the plowboys were taught to plow by stake across level land and straight up and down the hills. Hillside ditches carried Rainwater away. This system worked well on level lands but it resulted in severe soil erosion on the hills of South Carolina.
Mr. Senn taught his friend Sam Tribble how to use a rude, curved instrument that enabled him to survey every field and arrange almost level terraces to carry away the surplus rainwater. He showed that the old hillside ditches contributed to heavy soil erosion and should be eliminated.
Then Mr. Senn showed Samuel how to use curved rows that followed the contours of the new terraces and the advantages of crop rotation instead of planting cotton on the same land year after year. Sam hauled black topsoil from the woods to enrich his land, followed his friend’s example and as a result fertility and productivity gradually increased.
After many years of domestic bliss and of facing the trials of a growing family, Sam’s good wife died. She was buried in the graveyard of the Belmont Baptist Church.
In a Methodist community near Saluda River in lower Newberry, Samuel found a young lady whom he wanted. She was a Miss Katie Bell Waites. Her father was partly Cherokee Indian, a son of a Cherokee who had ran away from his reservation in Oklahoma. Most Cherokee run-aways returned to the Cherokee Hills in North Carolina but this particular man migrated to near a black settlement in southern Newberry County. From that place one of the sons of this half-Indian family took his family to Monrovia, in the western African country of Liberia. But the good wife could not endure the West African climate. As her health deteriorated she had to be sent home in order to save her life. The children of this ‘Waites’ family learned to like Liberia but the grieving mother in Newberry SC succeeding in getting help to send for her family. The returned family settled on a farm on the Belfast Road. One of the neighbors of the Waites Family was Samuel Tribble.
The grieving widower was devastated by the loss of his wife, yet about a year later, he began courting again, seeking solace in the company of one of the pretty Waites daughters. About a year later Samuel persuaded the young lady to marry him. Sam Tribble, 65 years old, married Cora Waites, sixteen years old, at Trinity Church on May 20,1900 officiated by Rev. D. P. Boyd. The happy bridegroom promptly took his bride to his home near Belmont Church. There the new wife endeavored to make friends of her stepchildren and grapple with the unaccustomed problems of running her own household. Many new friendships were soon made. The young wife made a visit to a nearby home of the Senn Family to see a new baby when yours truly was born.
Eventually the aging Samuel Tribble was the father of a growing second family of children.
Sam Tribble appeared so vigorous and in such good health that he appeared to be destined to live a hundred years. But a rare disease struck the vigorous man. Dr. W. D. Senn diagnosed the ailment as cancer, which in those days was almost invariably fatal. Within a few months Sam Tribble was dead.
In the graveyard of Belmont Church, which he helped build, Samuel Tribble lies today in his final sleep. Beside him are the graves of his two wives. He is almost completely forgotten now but few former residents and good citizens of Newberry County are more deserving of being remembered. One of Samuel Tribble’s sons was Hilton Tribble who married Esther Speaks. They had five children of who three are still alive (2003). Hilton died a few years ago and his widow, Esther Waites Tribble, now lives in Florida with one of her children. Queen Esther’s mother, ‘Aunt Janie’ was a great turkey raiser. Queen Esther’s only brother was called ‘Cracker’ and worked for Harmon Brenmer.
Sgt. Andrew K. Tribble, Co. ‘B’, 3rd Regt. 116 | 27 | Waites | Oley | B | M | 22 | 116 | 27 | Waites | Hattie | Mu | F | 21 | 116 | 27 | Waites | Ella Mae | B | F | 4 | 116 | 27 | Waites | Berly | B | M | 1 |
Samuel Pitts
About nine miles southwest of Newberry SC the Belfast Road is joined by the Island Ford road, which comes from the west. About two miles west of the juncture of these two roads is Beaverdam Creek.
Long ago a large plantation lay in the valley of Beaverdam creek. It also extended far along the surrounding hills and was the property of the well-known Henry Burton family. Henry Burton lived in a two story white house with a large wide chimney at each end and a one-story porch in front. A large back wing of the house contained a splendid dining room, pantry and kitchen. A well house with water bucket and chain lay in the back yard and around the well were rose bushes. Nearby was a pigeon house, high on posts. This pigeon building had many doors and dozens of pigeons were constantly entering or leaving this little house, flying over the surrounding countryside.
A large shed nearby sheltered the plantation wagons and machinery and another shed protected the sheep. Nearby barns and pens were the homes of several riding horses, mules, cattle and a drove of hogs. Beyond the Island Ford Road, in front of this plantation mansion stood a big two-story building that sheltered a cotton ginnery. This same huge building also had storage areas for un-ginned cotton, cotton bales and bags of fertilizer. Other larger buildings sheltered the plantation’s big crops of corn and grain. Many small cottages, with large brick and stone chimneys were the homes of farm laborers. In the nearby fields roamed a flock of peafowl with long beautiful tails. These big, lovely members of the pheasant family were truly fascinating. They excited the admiration of every visitor. About once every two years a male peafowl would be caught and robbed of his plumage.
In the big white mansion of the plantation lived the owner and proprietor, Henry Burton, with his good wife and several children. Nearby, in a smaller dwelling lived the plantation overseer, Mr. Workman. Mr. Workman was a very able man and knew his business, but he was a man with a very bad temper and was feared by some.
Henry Burton died honored and respected by his family. He was buried in the Burton Family Cemetery at the edge of the forest beyond a big field located on the road in front of the plantation house. About a year later the sorrowing widow surprised and shocked everyone by marrying her overseer. Mr. Workman moved into the big house to live with his bride and a few months later the Burton children, one by one, began to leave their home and move to Newberry. It seemed obvious the younger members of the Burton family did not like their stepfather.
Meanwhile, a strong friendship had formed between Mrs. Workman and some of the plantation’s black women. One of the good black women, Sinda (Lucinda) Pitts had an unfortunate life. Her husband had deserted her and disappeared soon after their baby, Samuel, was born. In compassion, Mrs. Workman told her unfortunate friend to bring the baby to the big house and leave him there when she went to work. Mrs. Workman said that she would care for the baby until the mother returned. Not long after Mrs. Workman had a baby of her own. The child was christened ‘Hubbard Workman’ and called ‘Hub’.
Sinda continued to bring her baby to the big house when she went to work and Mrs. Workman seemed to enjoy caring for the two babies, taking them with her when she went calling. The black baby would be carried in one basket and the white baby in a similar one. When the babies needed attention they were treated quite alike. Little Sam was carried home by his grateful mother every evening.
As little Sam and little Hub became older they played together and Sam also played with the black children near his home. When the two boys reached school age Mrs. Workman insisted they both go to school. Sam was sent every day to Belmont Colored School and Hubbard was taken to Burton White School. As the boys grew older they were both taught to work, milking cows, churning butter, feeding stock, gathering eggs and assisting at hog killing time.
As the boys grew to manhood both were occasionally entrusted to act as overseers and were allowed to direct small groups of workers who were performing specified tasks.
But Mr. Workman, Hubbard’s father, was becoming quite a problem as he became older. He occasionally flew, without warning, into a sudden and uncontrollable rage during which he was quite dangerous. On one occasion a young black man started to a cotton field with a big cotton basket on his head. As he passed Mr. Workman the young man paused to have a short discussion with his boss. Then thinking that all was well, the young man took his basket on his head and started towards the field. Suddenly, without warning, Mr. Workman flew into a rage, drew his pistol and shot three holes through the basket before the young man could throw the basket down and start running. The young man knew his boss well and realized that Mr. Workman’s deadly rage was only temporary. After a time the boss realized he had almost committed murder while in the grip of a senseless emotion. He called everyone who was near and said, “Kneel down and let us pray” and led the group in the prayers.
The tragedy was that incidents similar to this continued to occur with uncomfortable frequency. Unless there was a change in his mental condition, it would only be a matter of time before Mr. Workman shot someone, probably with fatal results.
Johnny Martin, one of God’s saints of the Trinity community, formed a friendship with Mr. Workman. The neighbors said that Johnny use to meet Mr. Workman under a big oak tree in a nearby forest and there the two friends would have a prayer meeting. It was obvious Johnny was trying to ‘get the devil’ out of his friend, but it is doubtful he ever quite succeeded. It was easy for the neighbors to see why the Burton children all left their home and moved to Newberry, even before they married. No one with good sense would want to live in a house with Mr. Workman.
After the death of his wife, Mr. Workman also moved to Newberry and lived in a house on Boundary Street. The farm workers secretly rejoiced at the move but waited anxiously to see what kind of boss Mr. Workman’s son, Hubbard, would be. To everyone’s relief Hubbard Workman made a good start and it seemed the workers now had a good boss. However, it soon became apparent the young boss man was not free to do quite as he wished in the management of plantation affairs. The younger members of the Burton family, although living in Newberry, made frequent trips to the old plantation and occasionally over ruled their half brother in some of his decisions.
About that time the Burton farm, later to be known as ‘Sand Hill’ hired a new employee. The new worker was a big, powerfully built black man of mysterious origin. He was at least twice as strong as the average man and he liked to display his strength. The young Burtons enjoyed making bets about this man’s feats of strength. But Hubbard did not trust this new worker. He knew that this Sampson-like employee had a very bad temper and was also unfriendly with the other workers. There was a real danger that this quarrelsome, super-strong man would hit one of the other farm laborers and kill him.
On one occasion a worker was driving a farm wagon loaded with lumber. As he turned into the short driveway in front of the mansion he mis-judged the distance with the result that a rear wheel of the wagon struck a stone gate post and the wagon stopped abruptly. The worker with the unusual strength saw the accident and immediately began berating the unfortunate young driver, cursing him as if he was the most stupid fool in the world. Then the Sampson man grasped the rear end of the wagon’s coupling pole and shifted the back of the heavily loaded wagon several inches so that the rear wheel of the vehicle, which had struck the stone, was now free.
Several people saw the incident. They heard the angry ravings of this ‘ugly giant’ and they saw the evidence of his unbelievable strength. Word was passed around the plantation that ‘Sampson’ was a truly dangerous man.
On another occasion a member of the Burton family, with Abner Mingo and Sampson, were operating a sawmill on the property, cutting logs. They had just felled a big pine tree when several of the younger Burtons and a number of guests appeared. One of the visitors suggested that the group make an interesting wager. Sampson and Abner were asked to race each other as they cut the fallen tree into logs. The wagers were placed on who would be the first to cut clear through the tree. Abner Mingo, like Sampson, was proud of his strength and also inclined to be a showman. When the signal to start cutting was given Abner Mingo began chopping away as if he were a machine. But Sampson held back until Abner had cut almost halfway through the fallen tree. Then Sampson went to work. Hugh chips flew through the air, struck a final blow and caused the tree to fall apart about a minute before Abner Mingo finished cutting his way through. The onlookers stared in amazement. Not one of these people had ever seen such a display of skill and brute strength.
The ‘Sampson’ had a special dislike for Jean Kelly, one of the best of the workers. Hubbard Workman realized this ill-tempered worker was likely to hit Jean Kelly or one of the other farm hands he disliked and kill him without intending to do so. At the same time Hubbard also knew he could not fire Sampson because of opposition by the young Burtons. The giant solved Hubbard’s problem for him soon after. One day Sampson told the woman with whom he was living that he was about to make his departure from the Burton lands. He told her to cook for him a bag of biscuits. The young woman got an empty cloth bag and baked enough biscuits to fill it. Sampson made a bundle of all his belongings and put it in a big cloth sack, threw the sack over his shoulders, took the bag of biscuits in his one hand, said goodbye to his girl friend and left. He walked across the back yard to vanish into the adjacent forest. He was never again seen in western Newberry County. A few of the white men who had become accustomed to making bets concerning the giant’s strength were somewhat disappointed when the strong-man disappeared but Sam Pitts, Jean Kelly and other black men of the community were joyous to have the dangerous, quarrelsome man gone forever.
One day a sawmill was brought in to a big pine forest in The Glades. The mill itself was owned by one of the younger Burtons. Oxen-drawn carts with big high wheels were used to haul the logs from the forest to the sawmill. Hub told Sam Pitts to haul a heavy load of the lumber from the sawmill to a planer mill in Newberry. About 2 o’clock in the morning Sam Pitts went to the cattle shed near the plantation house and put the yokes on ‘the big cows’. He led the oxen to The Glades and hitched them to a loaded wagon. The journey along the plantation road was made without difficulty and when the Belfast Road was reached Sam turned eastward in it, heading toward the town of Newberry. The sun rose as the oxen-drawn wagon was passing the George Boozer place. The temperature rose steadily and by the time the wagon reached the hill just west of Bush River, the oxen were very hot and thirsty. Evidently at this point, the oxen were aware of the fresh water in the river. Sam said the oxen ‘smelled’ the water. Suddenly, at the top of the last hill, the oxen swerved from the road. Sam Pitts, who was riding on top of the load of lumber, shouted and tried to stop the oxen. But the thirsty, run-away animals could not be halted. The oxen smashed a nearby pasture fence and tore it down. Then they literally ran down a long hill, crossed a small area of grassy river bottomland and plunged headlong into Bush River, drawing the loaded wagon into the water behind them.
Sam Pitts, who was riding on the load of lumber, had been shouting and doing all that he could in a vain attempt to stop the run-away animals. With the loaded wagon stalled in the river, Sam dismounted and stood in the river, staring helplessly and wondering what his employer would do.
Obviously, the only thing to do was to go to the residence of the landowner, explain what had happened and ask for help.
Jim Henderson, a member of the Newberry Police Force, was at home when Sam Pitts, wringing wet, came and knocked at the door. Mr. Henderson heard Sam’s story and then accompanied him to the river. There, after examining the situation, Mr. Henderson said, “Sam, I don’t have any way of getting that wagon out of there. Just wait until the oxen rest and cool off. Then we’ll see what happens’. The two men stood on the riverbank and watched.
Presently one young ox shook his head and lunged forward into his yoke. Then the others started to do the same. Before the eyes of the two astonished men those oxen drug that loaded wagon across the sandy river bottom and up the steep riverbank. Mr. Henderson hastened to go ahead and opened a gate. Sam Pitts climbed aboard the wagon, thanked Mr. Henderson and proceeded on to Newberry. There he unloaded the lumber at the planer mill located beside the railway, near the big west end textile mill.
A short time after the incident the last of the marketable timber in The Glades was cut. It became necessary to move the sawmill. But recent heavy rains had greatly softened the plantation roads. The heavy sawmill engine bogged down and could not be moved by the four good mules attached to it. “Sam”, said Hub, “Go get the cows”. Sam walked home to the plantation big house, yoked the oxen and returned to the stalled engine, where the animals pulled the badly stalled engine from the deep mud.
Once the marketable timber was harvested on the plantations the oxen were no longer needed. For ordinary fieldwork mules were superior to oxen because they walked faster. So the oxen were eventually sold and replaced by mules.
The Burton family traditionally kept about 100 sheep on their plantation on Island Ford Road. Of course, after the annual lambing, the number of sheep would become twice as great. During the course of the year, especially in ‘barbecue time’, in late summer, many of those sheep would be sold and the size of the flock would be reduced.
In early spring, just after the newly planted grain had sprouted, the sheep would be turned out several times and allowed to graze on the young freshly sprouted grain. But always at nightfall, all the sheep would be rounded up and returned to their stalls. On one occasion when the sheep were turned out to graze on the Burton grain, they strayed. After they had grazed their way across a large field, the sheep came to the plantation line. It so happened there was no fence in this area and these dumb animals knew nothing about boundaries. So the entire flock simply walked across the property line and continued to graze in the next field.
The next field was a part of the property of Jack Floyd who did not get along well with Hubbard Workman. So while the sheep were grazing, Mr. Floyd discovered them in his field and drove the entire flock to his cow lot and shut them up. When Hubbard Workman heard what had happened he literally went into a fury. He told Sam Pitts, “Get into my car”. Hub and Sam drove to Jack Floyd’s farm but instead of stopping as Sam had expected him to do, Hub mashed down on his accelerator and continued going. Hubbard went past the Floyd property and visited the Scott Place, part of the extensive Burton estates. There he spent some time inspecting crops and giving directions to the workers. On the return trip Sam Pitts thought that surely Hub would stop to have a consultation with Jack Floyd, apologize for any damage the sheep might have done, together with an offer to pay for any such damages. Then almost certainly Hub would leave Sam Pitts to drive the sheep homeward. But instead of stopping at Jack Floyd’s place, Hub mashed his accelerator and went speeding past. Sam asked no questions. About two days later Sam Pitts looked westward toward the Floyd land and saw a big flock of sheep coming with a man driving them. Sam hurried to meet the approaching flock. The man behind them was Jack Floyd himself. “Sam”, said Jack.” I don’t want anything except what is mine”. With a great respect for Jack, Sam Pitts thanked him and drove the sheep homeward. After that incident Sam Pitts and Jack Floyd became good friends. Some time afterwards when Sam was shearing sheep an accident occurred.
Something happened which averted Sam’s attention for a moment. During that short lapse of time the foot-pedal operated clippers very badly injured one sheep’s neck. Sam said, “I could see his goozle”. But fortunately the hardy creature recovered satisfactorily after the wound had been washed with kerosene.
Hubbard Workman had made a wide circle of friendships. Among his special friends was a talented young schoolteacher, Miss Dollie Mae Senn who lived about two miles away. Hubbard often dated this attractive young lady and escorted her to various entertainments. It was becoming apparent that Miss Dollie Mae was fond of Mr. Hub. On one occasion Mr. Hub invited his lady friend to go to the State Fair with him. Driving his buggy to the railway station at Silverstreet, they then boarded the train and rode to the large and busy Union Station in Columbia SC. Next, aboard a crowded electric street car, they rode from the Union Station to the State Fair Grounds. The visit to the Fair with its many attractions was very interesting and enjoyable. Among the many people the couple met that day was an attractive young lady, Miss Kate Lou Neal, a resident of the Silverstreet area. Hub and Dollie paused to chat with Kate Neal. Soon Hub was laughing with Miss Neal acting as if he was having the best time in the world. Then unbelievably, he walked away with Miss Neal and completely ignored Miss Dollie Mae. Deeply hurt, Miss Dollie Mae returned to the gate of the fairgrounds and boarded a streetcar that took her back to the rail station. There she boarded a train and returned to Silverstreet. A neighbor who happened to be in Silverstreet saw Miss Dollie Mae and stopping to speak to her learned she needed transportation. The gentleman promptly volunteered to take her home. A few days later Sam Pitts happened to see Miss Dollie Mae, who he had known for many years. ‘Sam’, she said, “Hub left me at the Fair. He left me and walked away with Miss Kate Lou Neal”. Next time Sam visited Hub at the farm he asked Hub why he had treated Miss Dollie in such a manner. ‘I don’t know”, said Hub, “I must have been crazy”. ‘That should have been your wife, but you’ll never get her now’, was Sam’s reply. And Sam Pitts was right. It was evident Miss Dollie still liked Hub. She welcomed him when he came to her home but she would never go anywhere with him again. Hub continued to call at the Senn house occasionally. He was always given a friendly reception but it was useless to ask Miss Dollie Mae Senn for a date.
Hub Workman was fond of children and quite often would visit the home of a neighbor who had a small child. He would ask, “Is the baby dry?” Then he would take the small child and hold it in front of him on his saddle and ride for hours before returning the baby to its mother. Today, at the age of 90 years, Charlie Senn remembers how a bald headed man wearing a white shirt and dark trousers carried him for long rides on horseback.
Hubbard Workman finally married Miss Kate Lou Neal and they seemed happy at first. Kate, prior to her marriage, had formed a strong relationship with an older woman and after the marriage this elderly lady appeared to make efforts to break up the marriage. She would embrace Kate and say, “You don’t love me anymore”. This type of behavior continued until Kate Workman deserted her husband and went with the older woman to New York. Hubbard went to New York after his run-away wife and succeeded in persuading his wife to return to him.
Sam Pitts was busy in a field in “The Glades”, a plantation a few miles from the Burton place and owned by the Burton family. Sam glanced up from his work and saw Miss Kate coming toward him across the field. “Sam”, she said, “Hub and I are together again”. Sam told her he was very glad to see she had returned. But the return did not last for long and Kate returned to New York, presumably to the company of her friend, the older woman.
Hubbard Workman became despondent. He told a friend, Foster Senn, “I could have kept Kate Lou if it hadn’t been for that other woman”. He began to drink heavily. A time came when he seldom visited the Senn family. He told Sam Pitts he enjoyed visiting the Senn family but did not want them to see him half drunk. Hubbard left his home on the Burton Plantation and moved to the Wiseman Hotel in Newberry. More often than ever he was intoxicated. Meanwhile in New York City, Mrs. Workman was increasingly unhappy. One day she was found dead with a self inflicted bullet wound. She had shot herself with her lady friend’s pistol. Mrs. Workman’s friends and relatives charged the pistol used in her suicide had been purposely left where the despondent woman would find it. Another ugly rumor spread that Kate Lou’s body had been shipped to Newberry in a wire bound box, once containing 100 pounds of salt meat. Kate Workman was interred in Rosemont Cemetery in Newberry while her husband tried to drown his sorrow in liquor.
Springtime came the following year and it was again time to shear the sheep. Sam Pitts waited expectantly but not until late in the year did the inebriated Hubbard finally direct Sam to shear the sheep. To shear these animals at the later part of the year and leave them without a winter coat to protect them against the cold was an act of inhumane cruelty. The Burton Family solved the problem by selling all the sheep.
One morning as school children were walking past the Burton Place on their way to school they saw a group of farm workers trying to catch all the peafowl on the place. An order had been received to catch all the beautiful birds and to send them to the home of Hub Workman’s father in Newberry. But someone blundered and it was easy to guess who did so. Those beautiful birds should have been observed when they were going to roost about sundown and they should have been caught and removed from their perches at night. Now in broad daylight, the farm laborers were having great difficulties in running down these agile creatures. As the workers were chasing one peacock he ran across an open well and promptly fell into it. Before the bird drowned Arthur Werts, one of the workers, slid down a long rope and rescued the ill-fated peacock. It was a never to be forgotten sight when the other workers hoisted Arthur Werts from the well with the dripping wet bird in his arms.
For several years thereafter visitors to Newberry enjoyed seeing these beautiful birds. Occasionally the peacock flew over a fence and wandered along adjacent streets. As automobiles became more numerous, all the peafowl were sold.
Throughout the years the pigeon house on the Burton property had remained in use but Hubbard Burton no longer took any interest in the pigeons. The Burtons saw no use in furnishing feed for birds that the neighbors were shooting so they finally sold the pigeons and pigeon house together. The Wiseman Family, owners of the hotel in Newberry where Hubbard now lived, was very kind to Hub. Several years passed with Hubbard Workman making frequent trips as overseer of the various activities of the Burton Plantation. His drinking habits increased and his performance as a farm supervisor deteriorated. One morning Hubbard was found dead in bed at his room at the Wiseman Hotel. He had literally drunk himself to death.
Sam Pitts and several of the other, older, farm hands of the Burton Farms went to Newberry and gathered at the Funeral Home to attend the services. But Hubbard’s father met the men at the funeral home and sent them away, saying it was not necessary for them to attend his son’s funeral. The older black workers went home saddened and disappointed.
Aiken Feagle was appointed as executor of the estate of Hubbard Workman. Mr. Feagle liked Sam Pitts and the two got along well but to Sam the world had been turned upside down. He and Hub had been close together ever since Mrs. Workman had cared for Sam and Hub together as babies. But now Hub was gone and the plantation was greatly changed. Sam Pitts soon left the Burton Place and moved into a small house on land owned by the neighboring Dorroh Family. There he lived until his death a few years later. Sam Pitts was buried at Belmont Church near his home. There was never a bad mark on his record. Hubbard Workman is buried in Rosemont Cemetery in Newberry. One wonders what would have happened if he had not walked off that day at the Fair with Kate.
Headstone: Henry Burton Feb 25, 1`817 - Oct 22, 1872 115 | 325 | Pitts | Alex | B | M | 34 | . | 115 | 325 | Pitts | Sinda | B | F | 22 | wife | 115 | 325 | Pitts | Lousa | B | F | 8 | daughter | 115 | 325 | Pitts | Johnie L | B | M | 2 | son | | 