February 16, 1956
Transcribed by Janette
West Grimes
* Cal's Column *
Sunday's
heavy rainfall, which sent numerous creeks and small branches out of their
stream beds brought to light a serious flood which struck Defeated in 1842.
Information
on the flood was obtained from a scrapbook in the possession of Arthur D. [Pud]
Kemp, of Denver, Colo., a former resident of Defeated.
The Defeated flood was known as the "Big Fresh." It came on the night of May 18, 1842. An article in the Carthage Democrat described the flood and the hair-raising plight of two men who were almost drowned after a store building they were in washed away.
James C.
Williams owned and operated a mercantile store and was a tobacco freighter,
taking tobacco by flatboat to New Orleans each year. When he left on this
particular trip, he placed his son, L. F. Williams, who was then 19, and
Dandridge A. Witt in charge of the store. The two young men slept in the upper
floor of the building.
Mr.
Williams, in recounting the incident,
said rain began falling on the night of May 18 and continued to come in
torrents all through the night. The store was built on a potato shaped hill
near Defeated Creek. There was a large bottom just above and on either side of
the store building.
At day break
on May 19 young Williams and Witt awoke and when they looked out a window saw
to their surprise that the bottoms were covered with water, and the rain was
still falling. The creek was carrying drift of all kinds at a rapid pace.
The two men
dressed as quickly as possible and went down stairs, where they found the
bottom floor under 2 1/2 feet of water. They went to work at once removing all
the goods on the floor to the tops of the counters. Meanwhile, the rain
continued and the water kept rising. Soon they went back upstairs, and a few
minutes later, to their horror, they felt the house rise from its foundation.
Mr. Williams described the building as a very large and heavy one, constructed
of poplar logs sawed by hand with a whipsaw.
When the
house began moving downstream, Mr. Williams said a hope of escape was found
when Witt broke out the window and saw that they were approaching a large beech
tree. When the house got near the tree, they jumped from the window and lodged
themselves in the topmost part of the beech, which was then in the middle of
the raging creek.
The rain was
still coming down in great gusts, and large logs and other drift struck and
swirled around them, they all the while fearing that the trembling tree would
be uprooted and washed away with them in its branches.
After about
two hours the rain stopped, which gave them some relief. And they watched as
the store building reached a mill dam about a quarter of a mile below their
treetop. The house struck the mill and was broken and scattered to pieces. Mr.
Williams described the creek as being wide as the Ohio river.
By the
middle of the afternoon the creek banks were crowded with people who had come
to witness the distress caused by the flood. Williams and Witt began calling to
them, but their voices could not be heard above the roar of the surging water,
not for a long time. Finally, just before sundown, the water had gone down a
little. And a brave soul had a plan.
One man in
the crowd, their friend, John Sneed, saddled up the best horse in the
neighborhood and he swam the horse to their rescue. He made two trips to the
tree, bringing off one of the men on each perilous mission.
The crowd,
which had given up hope for their safety, rejoiced loudly when the last one was
brought to high ground.
Two Negro
women drowned when their homes washed away. Their bodies were recovered about
two miles downstream on the place known as the Sampson and McClellan farm, now
the Arlis Dillehay or Bill Anderson farm. They are buried there.
____________________
The above
article is from the Carthage Courier, published at Carthage, the county seat of
the adjoining county to the southeast of Macon County. Since Defeated Creek and
Peyton's Creek have their origin in Macon County, we believe that the above
article will be of interest to many of our readers. We give full credit to Sam
Neal and Andy G. Reid, publishers of the Courier.
On Peyton's
Creek, the "fresh" of 1842 did perhaps as much damage as it did on
Defeated Creek. Since the article from the Courier deals altogether with
Defeated Creek, we would like to give something of its effects on Peyton's Creek.
The word used by many of our people in 1842 for the big rain, as given above
and also in the other paper, was "fresh." They really meant freshet
which is the correct word for such a rain as fell over much of the upper
Cumberland that May day and night, now almost 114 years in the past.
The rain
began the night of May 18th and poured down all night. The writer's
great-grandfather, Lorenzo D. Ballou,
lived then in the forks of Peyton's Creek, nearly a mile above the present
Pleasant Shade. The Ballou home is said to have been the first weather boarded
house ever constructed on Peyton's Creek. It was located not far from the
present Kittrell's spring, which furnished water for the Ballou family. The
house, judging from pieces of earthenware and crockery, stood perhaps about 75
yards from the spring, and much nearer "Big" Peyton's Creek than
"Little" Peyton's Creek which flow together about 250 yards below
where the old Ballou house stood.
In the
raging flood of 1842 waters arose around the Ballou home until they entered the
house. One thing connected with the escape of the family from the surrounded
home, that is of a rather ludicrous nature, has come down to the writer. Some
of the men of the family managed to get to the barn or stables and secure mules
and horses on which to "evacuate" the women of the family, they being
Mrs. Ballou, the former Miss Mary R. Kittrell, her daughter, Julia A. Ballou,
who married Jack Kittrell, Margaret E. Ballou, one of the editor's grandmothers, who was a child then of
less than two years of age, and one or two slave women, whose names we do not
know. Men in the family were: Lorenzo Dow Ballou, head of the family, born Dec.
1, 1808 and was 26 months younger than the woman he later married: their sons
as follows: William Alexander Ballou, James Ethelbert Ballou, Leonidas Ballou,
Diogenes Ballou, Anthony S. Ballou, Albert Cullom Ballou and Rufus C. Ballou.
The
"funny" incident that has come down through nearly six score years in
our family is that Mrs. Ballou, when she had the opportunity to ride from the
flooded home, rode astride a mule which was considered in that distant day and
time as "unlady like." But that was a time when fine manners were
forgotten and saving life was more important than any sort of fancy actions.
The thing that has impressed the writer is that this little episode has lived
down through more than a century of time, while others connected with the same
occasion and of perhaps far more importance, have been forgotten.
The raging
"Big" Peyton's Creek finally brought in a large log which landed
against two trees, locust, we believe, a short distance above the Ballou home.
This log divided the swift current, some of the water going to the west of the
house and the larger part of the stream going to the east. Although water to
the depth of 18 inches got into the house, it stood through the flood and for a
number of years afterward. In fact there is no record of the water on Peyton's
Creek having ever been so high as it was on May 19, 1842.
Another
episode of the same flood occurred in the present town of Pleasant Shade. The
combined "Big" Peyton's Creek and "Little" Peyton's Creek,
and the combined Boston Branch, Sanderson's Branch and Sloan Branch join the
main stream just below the town in Pleasant Shade. Most of the present Pleasant
Shade had not then been built. However, there was one known dwelling house
located in the forks of the creek on the site of the John Sloan home of recent
years. In this pioneer home located on the site of the present home of John
Sloan lived the Pleasant Massey family. He was then about 40 years of age and
his wife, formerly a Miss Shaver, was
of about the same age as her husband.
The flood
waters of that May night of a long time ago arose about his home. The older
children, one boy and two girls, are supposed to have (been) able to wade out
from the Massey home. But the father had to carry two or three of the smaller
children to higher ground. It is said that one of the children at least, being
carried by the struggling father, would say continously while the perilous
journey toward higher ground was being made, " Come on, Pap." The
distance covered by the family was perhaps 125 yards, to the point of higher
ground to the rear of the present Sloan Brothers and Company Store. It is not
definitely known whether the Massey house washed away, but this is the
tradition. Pleasant Massey and his wife, the former Eva Shaver, were the
parents of Lon Massey, the father of C. B. Massey, who lives at present about
100 yards further down toward the junction of the two streams. He is now in his
90th year and still has a good memory and is quite active in spite of his
extreme old age.
From the
census of Smith County for 1840, we learn that Jacob Shaver lived at the fifth
house either above or below Pleasant Massey. We would judge Jacob Shaver to
have been a brother of Mrs. Massey as he was between 40 and 50 years of age in
the year 1840; and Mrs. Massey was between 30 and 40 at the same time.
But to
return to the flood of 1842. We heard our own grandfather, Stephen Calvin
Gregory, who was born Oct. 30, 1827, say that we went down to see Peyton's
Creek that May morning when the creek was so high. He went down Nickojack
Branch to the creek, near where Nickojack Branch enters the creek. There our
grandfather reported that Peyton's Creek extended from about where the Smith
Store in Graveltown is to the hillsides near where Nickojack joins the main
creek, and the driftwood was running at a tremendous rate, that some stray
horse swam out into the raging waters of the creek and then turned back and
swam to the bank.
But the only
fatalities among the citizens of the Peyton's Creek section occurred about a
mile further down the stream, at the mouth of what is now called the Nixon
Hollow, just below the present home of Mrs. Jimmie Green. Here lived in that
distant day Marshall Leftwich and his wife, the former Jane A. Garrett. They
had one young negro slave, perhaps 12 years of age. He had heard the rain
pouring down all night and had arisen at perhaps three o'clock in the morning
and then went outside the house to investigate. He found the waters of the
Nixon Hollow and those of Peyton's Creek all around the house to the depth of
perhaps a foot, and rising steadily. He is reported to have returned to Mr. and
Mrs. Leftwich and informed them they had better get out of the surrounded house
at once. They refused the warning of the Negro slave who then left the house
and went to the stables and opened the stable doors so that the livestock might
escape. However, Mr. and Mrs. Leftwich did not heed the warning and awoke later
to find their house surrounded by raging waters and the building about to float
away.
The
unfortunate pair managed to climb to the roof where they took refuge. A number
of teir neighbors and relatives gathered on the steep hillside across from the
log house about to be removed from its foundation. There was no chance of
rescue and the house floated away from it foundation, carrying the occupants of
the building away on the angry waters. It is said that the last words those
watchers on the east hillside ever heard from the doomed couple were from Mrs.
Leftwich, who cried out as the building started down the stream,
"Farewell, Farewell!" It broke in pieces not far from its former
location. Leftwich's body was soon recovered, but there seemed to be no trace
of the missing woman. It was feared that she had been swept into Cumberland
River and perhaps would not be found for weeks. But some days after the flood
waters of the creek had gone down, on a gravel bar just above the present
Monoville, someone walking on the bar detected a small piece of woven material
in the gravel. Investigation revealed that it was the apron worn by Mrs.
Leftwich when she was swept away to her death. By digging into the gravel, her
entire body was soon uncovered.
Another
event connected with the death of Mrs. Leftwich has come to us. It is said that
those who watched the house float away, saw Mrs. Leftwich take off her apron
and tie it about her head and shoulders. In a few moments more the house was
carried by the swift waters under a swinging limb of a tree that stood on the
bank of the creek. The watchers saw her grasp a limb to which she held for a
short time with one hand, then they saw her grasp giving away. First one finger
gave away. Then anothe and finally she hanged to the swinging limb for a short
time by one finger which finally gave way and she went on down the creek to her
death at the age of 30 years and a few days.
Mrs.
Leftwich was the first born of her parents, William D. Garrett and Sally A.
Garrett, who had ten other children. Jane Ann Garrett and Marshall Leftwich
were married Dec. 11, 1839, and had lived together less than three years when
they were swept to their deaths by the big "fresh" of 1842. Mrs.
Leftwich was a sister of Mrs. Louisa D. Porter, who lived on Peyton's Creek at
the present H. E. Porter farm. Our own mother knew her quite well. She married
William K. Porter on July 25, 1855, and was the mother of a rather large
family.