As I sit and think of the days now long since past, where my childhood was
spent, I am simply overwhelmed by memories and I sometimes wonder if it is a
true dream.
If mine were only the pen of a ready writer, what a lovely story I could weave
But I feel I would like just, to dot down a few facts which my children could
look over and thus know something of the old home where their father and I spent
our youth.
Some of the facts are before my day, others are within my recollection.
The "Sand Hills," the beginning of the long range known as the "High Hills of
Santee" were dotted with the homes of the Mannings and Richardsons galore— Boyds,
Brailsfords, DuBoses and Gaillards where during the summer months they lived. Their plantations along the Santee Swamp being unhealthy during the summer.
From early morn until quite dark the sandy roads were kept hot for buggy after
buggy and carriages filled with the young people from the different homes and
music and dancing would be kept up until the wee hours of the night.
In front of each house huge bonfires burned, casting a red glow over the yard. Around these fires happy groups of the faithful servants would gather and from
time to time would add to the burning pile. How happy those evenings were! No
care had come to the young people and life seemed a bright, beautiful dream.
At "Maumus Hall" my uncle,
James Richardson lived, and built a bark house where
his band played every afternoon. This Band was most remarkable. It was formed of
his own negros who were most wonderfully gifted, particularly one, "Robin" who
although perfectly ignorant could transpose the music to suit each piece. He
would transpose it on the sand. Professor Bauer from Charleston trained these
musical wonders and lived at Uncle Jim's. Long after Uncle Jim had passed away
and these negros had been made free; those of them who were left would go every
summer to the Birginia Springs and play for the merry throng gathered from all
parts of the country.
I remember my husband's mother telling me that on one occasion, Uncle Jim
surprised them one night by having eight young men dance the Lancers on horse
back. These men were Uncle Jim, Dickie Richardson, Elliott Darby, Ed Brailsford,
and others I cannot remember. The scene was a most unusual one. The house was in
darkness when suddenly the yard was a blaze of light from torches held by
mounted negros all in fancy dress and into the open came the eight young men in
beautiful fancy dress on handsome chargers and the band struck up the Lancers,
and those well and wonderfully trained horses with their skillful riders be
dance. I doubt if anything like this has ever been done before or since. Almost
all, in fact all, who saw this, I am sure have passed away.
There was another scene which made a lasting impression upon all gathered to
witness the marriage of my husband's sisters,
Eleanora Norvelle who married
Governor John Peter Richardson and
Julia, who married Major Moultrie Brailsford.
The Church has no lights and being in the country it was almost impossible to
get lamps enough so they has negros on horseback, each with a lighted torch to
escort the bridal party to the Church, then each man rode to a window holding
their torch so as to throw the light into the Church, thus lighting it well. The
bridal party was escorted back to the house in the same way. The house was
brilliantly lighted and huge bonfires burned in front and the merry voices of
the happy crowd could be heard, a scene long to be remembered.
Uncle Thomas Richardson lived at another of these homes and was one of the most
delightful of hosts and the doors of his hospitable home was open alike, to rich
and poor and all who entered felt the influence of his warm and genial manner.
At one of the most beautiful of these homes my uncle,
Governor John L. Manning
lived. This place is known as Millford and is now owned by Hr. Enory Clarke of
Detroit and is the only one of all of the many homes standing.
In December 1869, this home was a scene of wonderful beauty when his daughter,
Mary Hampton became the bride of
Henry B. Richardson. Down the winding beautiful
staircase came the bridesmaids, two and two, dressed alike, all of them "en
train" and were met at the foot of the stairs by their groomsmen, full evening
dress costume and marched to the spacious drawing rooms, which were beautifully
decorated.
The minister, Rev. Bruce Walker, in his spotless robes stood waiting for the
bride, who entered on the arm of her father, a wonderfully handsome pair, for
she was as handsome for a woman as he was for a man. She was joined at the
improvised alter by the groom and the beautiful service of the Episcopal Church
was read.
After congratulations and good wishes were said, dancing was enjoyed until
midnight when the doors of the dining room were thrown open and the table fairly
groaned under the weight of good things—an old fashioned English supper. When
the covers at the head of the table were removed, a boar's head with cream sauce
was displayed, as was the old English custom.
In later years at another entertainment in this same home there was a square
dance in which four generations took part, they were, Governor Manning, Mrs. Clarke (his Mother-in-law),
Mrs. Henry Richardson (his daughter), and
Douglas
Richardson (his grandson).
My Mother's home "Homesley" was indeed the home for all and the happy years will
live forever in my memory.
My Mother was a very remarkable woman, for although my two Uncles and their
families and my grandmother and Aunt all lived with her, there was never any
unpleasantness and all went smoothly.
Some of the happiest days of my life were spent with my Aunt, Mrs. William
Sinkler, one of the loveliest women, possessed a wonderful voice, whose rich and
mellow notes sank into your heart and she and my Aunt, Mrs. Charles Sinkler,
where I also spent many happy days, used to sing many lovely duets.
Aunt Anna's house, Mrs. W. Sinkler, was always open to her friends and she was
always in the midst of them making herself one of them.
Many happy days were spent with my Uncle and Aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Sinkler
and the intimacy begun in childhood has ripened with lasting friendship.
During the summer months there would be dinner parties where only the ladies
would be and the gentlemen would join them in the evening. Many jokes were
played at these dinners and many funny things happened, Once Uncle Jim for his
fun sent to one of these dinners a large pie whose rich brown pastry tempted the
most fastidious but when the pie was opened, instead of the fabled black birds, puppie had been carefully placed in the crust. The evenings were spent in
dancing and music.
On one occasion, when Nattie DuBose (Mrs. NcNealy DuBose) was married, my
husband's father and mother wished to give her a ball at the "Manor" but the
great trouble was that between the "Manor" and the "Sand Hills" was "Flud's
Mill" and "Halfway swamp" two almost impossible places, but this did not prevent
these hospitable people from carrying out their plans, so invitations were
issued and when the night came men with torches were at the bad places to light
them over safely and the same thing was done when returning home.
Near my husband's home was the dear little Church—St. Marks—and about one half
mile from the Church was the home of
Governor John Peter Richardson, Sr.
This home was burnt by Potter during the Civil War and only the old brick
pillars and quaint old wells mark the spot where the silver tongued orator (as
Governor Richardson, was called), spent his last days and where he passed to the
Great Unknown.
His son, John Peter, Jr., inherited his father's wonderful gift of oratory but
was even more gracious and genial, always having a kind word and pleasing smile
for everyone. His uncle Thomas Richardson, dubbed him "Peter—Purdy— Pamposity—Polie",
but in spite of this nick name his genial manner made him a beloved son of
Clarendon and it is a great regret to the entire county that he does not sleep
among them, but he is with his many kindred in Camden.
Summer after summer was spent in this way and in the midst of it all came the
cry of War! The War Between the States, so in April 1861, the flower of the
State, our noblest and best were called to take up arms.
Both my father and my husband's father were bitterly opposed to Secession, but
my father, Col. Richard I. Manning responded to his country's call and enlisted. Having formed and uniformed the "Manning Guards" at his own expense, he went
with them as their Captain to Columbia and from there they were sent to Virginia
with my Uncle, Col. Brown Manning as their Captain and became a part of the
Hampton Legion, and my father was sent with General P. H. Nelson to the Coast,
where from exposure he contacted fever and came home in July 1861 on sick
furlough and in October 1861, he passed away without ever having donned the
gray, blue uniform which was worn at first and not until September 1861, was the
gray adopted.
Well do I remember when the news came of the First Battle of Manassas and of the
many other awful battles which followed, bringing sorrow to so many homes
through whose halls so short a time before rang the sound of song and laughter.
During the last years several families refuged [sic.] among us and for a time
the fact that the South must soon bow her head and submit to defeat, then the
fun and merry making.
On the hardships which our people suffered, I will not dwell. Some of the
substitutes used for the luxuries of life were very funny, okra and potatoes for
coffee, peanuts for chocolate, for instance. This last was indeed very good. I
remember my Grandmother making ice cream and using molasses for sugar, and how
delightful I thought it.
At the time of "the Raid" we had the good fortune of having a guard around the
house but notwithstanding this we lost much. The lard that could not be carried
off was filled with sand and tobacco. I remember well one night my Mother
unusually so she had beds put on the floor down stairs and she and my
Grandmother kept watch all night. One faithful old maumer and the other faithful
servants were at their posts and I can never forget them and their many acts of
kindness. I remember too when the "Flag of Truce" passed down the Charleston
Road, too late however, to save the cotton and other property. Some of the old
homes filled with old furniture and many relics of the golden days were in ashes
and can only remain in the memory of these who had joined in the merry making
and fun in their spacious halls, a memory so bright that even time cannot dim.
In the center of the "Sand Hills" is the beautiful little church known as "St. Marks" where the Richardson,
Mannings, Brailsfords, Boyds, DuBoses and Gaillards worshipped. The spot upon which St. Marks is built was given by my husband's
father, Col. R. C. Richardson and my father Col. R. I. Manning, and was built
largely by them. The bricks were burnt in the kiln at Hawthorne Hill, my
Grandmother's home and were done under the direction and supervision of my
father. In the corner stone in addition to the usual things, my grandmother's
prayer book was put. The Bible and Communion service were given in 1828 by Mr. Charles Richardson, (a brother of Governor Richardson). The Church was then in
Williamsburg County and afterwards was moved, first to Rimini, then higher up
and then to the place it now stand a beautiful monument to those who worshipped
there and many of them sleep under the shadow of this dear little church in the
"Sand Hills."
Although slavery was long since a thing of the past the old slaves were still
loyal and faithful and I must tell of an instance of this loyalty.
I went one evening to my sister's (Mrs. Henry Richardson) to see one of the
children who was sick. Both my brother and my husband were away, so I called
"Old Bill " and told him I wanted him to go over to Sister Mary's to come back
with me as it would be dark and I did not like to come through the woods alone,
for it was a mile. When I came out of the house to my surprise "Old Bill" was
standing on the top of the steps, his arms folded, patiently waiting for me. He
had living with him, a half-witted boy about 18 or 19 years of age and he had
brought him with him hitched to the Buggy. I got in and "Ben B" (the half-wit)
pulled and "Old Bill" pushed me all the way home, through the heavy sand. Every
now and then Ben B would say, "Aint dat funny, I ain't tired."
A laughable picture I made sitting up in the buggy, no reins and being pulled
through the heavy sand and when I asked Bill why he had done this, he said, "I
had to for Mass Dickey would not like you to walk through these woods after
dark."
When I got home, I gave him a drink, which he dearly loved and I think he felt
repaid for his labor of love. Of my two mothers I will only say that no words of
mine can describe the
loveliness and lovableness of their characters.
My husband was born at the Manor in Clarendon County in 1854, that section from
which six of the Governors of South Carolina came, and who were so closely
related to both of us. It is at this Manor place, the home of the Richardsons
for generations, that the family burying ground is.
In this shady and deserted spot, where the trees are almost a forest and the
sacred spot marked off from the plantation by a ditch, rest the bodies of those
whose names have gone down in history and whose deeds will live for all time.
Among those who rest there are General Richardson, his son, Governor James B. Richardson, Governor John Peter Richardson, Sr. and many others too numerous to
mention.
I was born at the "Old Castle" in 1856 in Clarendon County (where through I the
kindness of my husband's father, my father and mother spent several years.
It was in sight of my husband's home, where I went as a bride and where so many
happy years were spent of our married life and where our children were born. The
old home is now in ashes but the happy years spent there will never fade from my
memory and to our children is truly a bright memory and they often say, "There
is no place like home."
We were married at Homesley in Sumter County in December 1879 and went at once
to my husband's Mother's where we lived until we were burnt out in 1906, when we
moved to Sumter, Mother coming with us and it is an untold pleasure that during
these year there was never a word of discord between Mother and me, nothing but
the most genuine affection. She passed away in 1907 at the ripe old age of 87.
My husband was the son of Col. Richard C. Richardson and Eleanora Spann,
Grandson of Governor James B. Richardson and Anne Sinkler, on his paternal side,
and a grandson of James G. Spann and Leonora Davis. Grandfather was General
Richard Richardson to whom a silver service was given by the State of South
Carolina in appreciation of his services in the Cherokee War.
My father, Col. Richard I. Manning, was the son of Governor Richard I. Manning
and Elizabeth Peyre Richardson and a grandson of Col. Laurence Manning and Susan
Richardson, his wife. My mother was Elizabeth A1len Sinkler, a daughter of
William Sinkler and Elizabeth Allen Broun. My father's mother was Elizabeth Peyre
Manning nee Richardson, has been spoken of as the most remarkable woman of South
Carolina or indeed of the States for she was so closely related to six Governors
of South Carolina being:
• The niece of Governor James B. Richardson, Governor 1802-1804
• The wife of Governor Richard I. Manning, Governor 1824-1826
• Sister of Governor John Peter Richardson, Governor 1840-1844
• Mother of Governor John L. Manning, Governor 1852-1854
• Aunt of Governor John P. Richardson, Governor 1886-1890
• Grandmother of Governor Richard I. Manning, Governor 1916- 1920
The above has been written for the benefit of my children so that they can know
something of their father Richard C. Richardson and of their mother, Elizabeth
Sinkler Manning.
Signed: Elizabeth S. Richardson