Memories of Sue and Marsh - by Anne

One time Marsh was to be gone several days. Sue was afraid to stay alone. She had 2 babies. Up the mountain, some bad women lived. She would carry the 2 babies up the mountain and ask the women if she could spend the night. They would always let her. In the next room she would hear men and women laughing and talking. She would leave early the next morning and never saw them.

Marsh and his brother George were going some place horseback. They come to a farm house in the evening. And asked if they could water their horses and camp for the night. The man was glad to see company and made them real welcome. He said his woman nearly had supper ready and they should eat with them. Marsh and George were hungry and glad to hear that. The table and benches were outside. A big old sow and her pigs were rooting around. The old sow kept grunting and begging. She got nearly under the table. Marsh took his fork and come down on that old sow’s back and it stuck in. She jumped and nearly turned the table over. That was George’s favorite tale and they would laugh and laugh every time they got to see each other.

Marsh was not satisfied to settle down. He was looking for his Uncle Billy. Texas was a happy-go-lucky place, no roads and few trails. It did have a railroad. He found Uncle Billy Hitson in Palo Pinto Country, Texas. He had a thousand-acre ranch in a big bend of the Brazos River. He and Sue were married in 1865. Ten years and five children (2 baby boys died) later, they stopped in Texas. Marsh bought several hundred acres, across the river from him. It was 3 miles from where Mineral Wells would be built, on the railroad.

Sue called him Marsh. Some called him a nickname Simon. He never corrected anyone. She called him Mr. Gill to any outside the family. She was very polite. She thought that whatever he did was smart. I called them Grandad and Granmama. I was Mote and Julia’s first baby, born on our farm across the road from them. Anne Minerva Gill, Anne after Dad’s younger sister. Mama’s older sister Tressie had a daughter 3 years older than me, Julia Minerva.

I always loved Granmama. I stayed with her more than her other grandkids. Except Fred (Fredda) who lived with her from the time she was 7 months old. We were the same age. Sometimes I stayed there to go to school. Me and Fred didn’t have nothing much to do. We couldn’t do it good enough for Granmama. Granmama would tell me and Fred these “old tales” and family stories. They were never talked about with others.

They built a big one-room log cabin on the banks of a creek. The cabin was turned to catch the best breeze. It had 3 horizontal sliding windows, each with 4 panes of glass. Cooking was in the big fireplace with a big iron pot. A kitchen was added and they bought a big iron cook stove to put in it. Between the kitchen and the rest of the house was a hall, open at both ends. It kept the kitchen from heating the rest of the house. Eating was on the table in the hall in good weather. The table and benches were split logs, smooth and sanded. It was all nice. Us kids played games there.

The flies liked that cool hall too. There was no way to keep them out, no screens. When food was put on the table, 1 or 2 people had to stand and wave papers or cup towels to keep flies off the food. Sometimes mosquitos were thick. When it begins to get dark we would light a fire in a bucket and carry it through the house. Granmama wouldn’t let the house get messed up with smoke. She was an expert housekeeper.

A good water well was hard to get. They dug one just outside the kitchen door and extended the roof over it. It was cemented and rock 3 ft. high around it. The water tasted good but it went dry sometimes. Where it went, nobody could tell. It just went. They finally figured out that it was before a norther. They dug it deeper and it never went dry again. The kids were never allowed around that well. What the grown-ups never knew was that the kids had a test. “To see if you are a coward.” Each one had to crawl across the 3 ft. opening on top of the wall. (First told at age 101.)

First thing, they set out an orchard. They got the best stock. Peach, plum and pear trees. Some of them lived over 40 years. Good grapes, Grandad always claimed them. Sometimes he peddled the extras. He made wine every year. He served a little glass to guests and on Sundays. No one was ever drunk and no kids got any. Granmama picked the blackberries and dew berries twice a week. Sometimes she was real busy and would give “a picking” to some of the folks or a neighbor. There were crab apples. They were a small sour fruit. Regular apples weren’t developed to grow here then. Lots of wild sand plums. She made lots of jelly. Nothing was let go to waste.

The land was fertile and always a good garden and lots of good vegetables. Granmama set hens and sold chickens and eggs. She milked 3 or 4 cows and sold milk and butter. Milk was cooled in crock jars set in fresh drawed well water. A wet cloth was laid over them. She had regular routes and peddled it all in town with “Old Coot” and her buggy. She wore her buggy out and gave it to us and got her a new one. Granmama managed her own money. I don’t think Grandad ever gave her any. Or that she ever asked for any. He never told her where he was going and she didn’t ask him. She was always pleased with whatever he did.

July 4, 1877 was a beautiful sunny day. Granmama took her 4 children to visit the Hitson girls at their ranch across the river. The Brazos was not down enough to cross in their buggy. They crossed on the Oaks Ferry. John was 10, Mote 5, Sue 4, and Jennie 1. The boys were tired after the long buggy ride. They rushed outside to play. A little black boy living at the ranch went with them to the river. Wading was such fun, until John got too brave. He got into swifter deeper water. Mote run to his mother, out of breath. He got there bawling and hiding behind her dress tail. She couldn’t get him to talk. Finally she said “I’m going to whip you if you don’t tell me what’s the matter.” Finally he choked out “John’s drowned.” Granmama went straight up. They were 3 days finding his body. It got about a mile, some little underwater snag caught it. The little black boy was so scared. It was several days before he come out of hiding. No one really blamed him. The buried their 3rd son. Mote never learned to swim. He was never allowed near the water. He tried to keep his boys out too.