Marlboro County ScArchives History - Books .....Chapter XXII Clio 1897 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/sc/scfiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Joy Fisher sdgenweb@yahoo.com January 5, 2007, 4:33 pm Book Title: A History Of Marlboro County CHAPTER XXII. CLIO. This village, situated in the eastern portion of the county, has from the first been favored with a large degree of the Scottish element. It is true that it was at first settled by old Mr. Joe Ivey. It is said that the old man left one of the Carolinas in search of a better land, towards the setting sun; that he went as far as the Chattahoochee, then, as it seemed to Ivey, the outer border of civilization, a beautiful stream flowing amid a wild and howling wilderness, with wild and savage Indians upon either bank-he became disgusted and turned his horse's head towards the rising sun, and returned to the spot where Clio now stands, there pitched his tent, and purchased a home in the virgin forest, with no intention or desire that a town should ever rise upon the plain. Tradition has it, that in the process of time, when at "Ivy's Cross Roads," as it was called, stores, shops, houses and dwellings began to rise around him, the old man explained his change of base by saying, "When they begun to build lead houses, glass shetters, and calico chimbleys it was time for Joe Ivy to git away." But Joe Ivy was a good, honest man, who was ready to aid his fellow man, and whom his neighbors all respected. His two sons, Gadi and Levi, both lived to be highly respected citizens, and have left families to honor their memory. Gadi, especially, lived to a great age, and died at Clio, only a few years ago, the oldest man in the community. The father of Senator Joseph Hawley, of Connecticut, was the first merchant to open a store at the "Cross Roads." It had already become a sort of center in the community, where the militia met for drill; and "muster-day" had become a day of trade. Not only was Henry Fuller on hand with cakes, but sometimes a "covered wagon" with something for the thirsty militiamen to drink, besides an assortment of flour, bacon, tobacco, and leather, and sometimes the candidates would be there, and speeches be made, a shooting-match would come off, maybe a horse-race or two would be run, a ring be described, a bully would step in and challenge the crowd for a fight and at long intervals somebody would "get hurt." The women in the neighborhood dreaded the "muster-day," and the boy who got the chance of going to muster to see the fun, counted himself a "lucky chap." Mr. Hawley, with genuine Yankee instinct, saw that it was a good place for money-making, and he bought a "little spot" of ground and "put up a store." A good farming country all around; honest, unsuspecting farmers, making good crops, liked the advantage of a home market, and traded with the shrewd Yankee, and he made money. It was not long before others began to think that the "Cross Roads" was a "good stand, and Hawleysville a money-making place." William Rogers, another Northern man, came and set up a store, soon won the affections of a Miss McCollum, and they were married. Rogers became popular, not only as a merchant, but as a public-spirited good man. He soon associated with himself John B. McDaniel, an excellent young man, born and raised in the community, who soon added to the strength of the firm by his marriage to a daughter of Mr. Eli Thomas; then they brought in as a salesman a polished young man, D. J. McDonald, quite an addition to the moral and social tone of the place. Mr. McDonald was respected as a partner, and the business increased. But, greatly to the regret of the community, Rogers sold out and went to Bishopville, in Sumter County, where he did well, and reared a fine family. A son of his is at present quite a prominent and useful member of the South Carolina Conference. Not long after Mr. McDaniel sold out to John A. McRae, and went to Arkansas, where, after conducting a large and successful business, he died a few years ago. He was one of those men whose capacity, manners and spirit bring them into prominence in any community, and his removal from it was deemed a calamity. T. C. Weatherly, so prominent in Marlboro affairs, and for so long one of its most popular citizens, began his business career at Clio as a salesman with Mr. McDaniel, but soon formed a partnership with Mr. J. L. McColl, which continued until he was elected Sheriff of Marlboro, when he sold out to Mr. McColl and moved to Bennettsville, in the vicinity of which place he lived till his death. He served the people in the State Legislature for several terms. A man of quick mind, ready action, public spirit, good judgment and generous impulses, he exercised a large influence. He died at Glenn Springs a number of years ago, where he had gone for the benefit of his health, and his body brought home and laid in the Methodist church yard in Bennettsville. The Edens family have for many years been prominent in the affairs of Clio. Rev. Allen Edens, who reared a large family of sons and daughters, several of them settling in the neighborhood, and Col. T. N. Edens, not only running a farm nearby, but for a time at the head of a mercantile firm. William M. Bristow, W. C. Medlin, and others, for a brief time, sold goods here before the war. Soon after the war there came among the Clio people a young man of handsome appearance, quiet manners, but fine sense and business talent, first in the humble capacity of a "North Carolina wagoner," dealing mainly in tobacco. Somehow young Hinshaw won the heart and hand of the beautiful daughter of Mr. W. M. Bristow, and soon the youthful pair made Clio their home. From that day began a new era in the prosperity and growth of the place; lumber and flour mills run by steam and presently a foundry and extensive shops went up; many operatives were needed and came; houses were erected, and the place put on a real town-like appearance. When the staid old town of Cheraw came upon the stage and made such a flattering bid for Capt. Hinshaw's services in a foundry at that place that his attachment to the little town he had done so much to enlarge and beautify had to yield, and with him went a number of good people to help build up a new Cheraw. With the Sternbergers, Calhouns, Woodleys, Ropers, Welches and the entrance of a railroad, the town has rapidly increased in population and volume of business. The Medlins, Stantons, and those mentioned above, with others, will not allow the grass to grow in her streets or her just proportion of trade to pass into other channels; but, with enterprise and energy, are opening up new streets and constantly adding to and enlarging the town. Commodious church buildings invite the people to worship, Methodist and Baptist; a good school building, occupied by first-class teachers; a Masonic hall, hotel, workshops and mill, are all in place and room being made for others, while all around the town in every direction are thrifty, successful farmers vying with each other and with others elsewhere in skill and profit. In going out among the fields around the town, we may find, now and then, what was once an impoverished, worn-out old field, where the owner was scarcely able to make a scanty support, now yielding abundant returns to skilled labor; and the low-roofed cottages of the fathers have disappeared and tasteful, comfortable dwellings, neatly furnished, have taken their places. The writer calls to mind a visit to the old Methodist church that used to stand a mile or two below the town, and must beg to mention a few of the humble but good men who were there. And first of all, he would write the name of the preacher, Dougald McPherson. His presence in some of our modern pulpits would be akin to the effect produced of introducing into one of our fashionable congregations some of those old sisters we read of in Hebrews, "arrayed in sheep skins and goat skins." Mr. McPherson was a diminutive person, slightly stooped, dressed in homespun clothes, a blue cotton handkerchief tied closely around his bald head, with a few stray white hairs peeping out behind his ears, minus his eyebrows, with pale, but benevolent face, a feeble, cracked voice, with scarcely ever the slightest gesture. And yet his neighbors and other intelligent people would sit upon the rough, backlesss benches and listen to that old man preach on a cold wintry day, in an open house, for an hour or more. His language was chaste, his thoughts intelligent, his doctrine evangelical, it is true, but not that held the people. It was the character of the man; his humble, consistent, truthful, honest life, this was the preaching that won his countrymen, and gave him a welcome and hearing wherever he went. Precious old man, when of a great age he sent two noble boys to the war never to return. On Gettysburg's bloody heights, on the same day, from the same volley, they both got their discharge, united in life, in death not divided. Mr. ______ Ammons married a daughter of Mr. McPherson, and works the old farm> but lives in a better house than that which sheltered so long the quiet, pious old couple who lived in the field. It is said that Angus McPherson, who came from Scotland, was the father of Dougald. About half a mile below the old meeting house lived old Mr. Robert Purnell. His wife was a daughter of Jonathan Meekins. Mr. Purnell was a fine specimen of physical manhood, well proportioned, ruddy face, gray locks, weighing, perhaps, two hundred pounds, he would naturally attract the attention of a stranger. His daughters, who married the Messrs. Allen and T. N. Edens, and a fine-looking young son, who died in early life, are favorably remembered. A mile or more below, at the Cross Roads, lived Simon Smith and wife, an aged pair, with a single daughter. The daughter afterwards married Charles T. McRae, while an older daughter was already Mrs. Henry Covington. A son, John, had long since married a Miss Weatherly and had gone to Alabama; and William R., a scholarly, intellectual man, was, for a time, a member of the South Carolina Conference, but had recently married and located and for sometime taught school at Parnassus. Another old man remembered as being at that old church now nearly fifty years ago, was James Quick, the ancestor of the worthy family of that name who now live a few miles above Clio. It is doubtful if any man of that day, moving in the same sphere in that community, exercised a wider influence; an influence which has told for good upon his posterity from that day to this. Still another is remembered, old Mr. Matthew Driggers. He, too, has left a large connection behind him. A younger man than those mentioned above was Wright Wilson, who afterwards became a Methodist preacher, and has a son in the ministry now. Daniel Dunbar is also remembered as living near Clio at the time. He was as the father of the late J. C. Dunbar. May we not linger yet around this little town to make mention of the Calhouns and others? Would that our space permitted a more extended notice. Within less than two miles Mr. Alexander Calhoun has lived to rear a family and yet lingers upon the shores of time, a pure-minded, consistent Christian gentleman. Of pure Scottish descent, honest, truthful, always modest and retiring, yet commanding the sincere respect of his neighbors, he is among the oldest men in the community. His brothers, John and Dougald, have gone before him to the tomb, but have left their impress upon sons and daughters they have left behind as valuable members of society. Perhaps no man was longer seen around Clio than John Cork. Humble and unpretending, ready to take the road on errands for the merchants, or to enter the shops of the mechanics or the fields of the farmers; wherever he could make himself useful, even to old age, he still trod the streets of Clio, till he died the oldest citizen of the town. The Stantons, too, have a record in this community older than the town. Handy and Thomas both have left large families of useful citizens and excellent farmers. On the one side of Clio, and now, perhaps, within the limits of the town, may be seen the snowy locks of John, a son of Handy, and the partner of his life's pilgrimage, Sarah Heustiss. Denied, in the providence of Heaven, children of their own, yet seldom without the children of other people, to care for, and to love. Their reward is in Heaven, their record on high. W. Godfrey Stanton, another son of Handy, who married a daughter of Major Aaron Breeden, has long lived near the little town, and sometimes within it, is growing to be an old citizen; bu has sons and daughters to remember him when gone to his long home. On the other side of the town there is Peter and Evander, sons of Thomas Stanton, both with silver locks, but not as old as they look. The former in his bachelor loneliness; the other with a flock around him to honor his memory when gone. Good men both; may they yet be spared the reaper's sickle for many days. Others of this name and family are as worthy of mention but we hurry on to mention other families. Recollection next brings up the gray head of Mr. James Woodley, who died several years ago. He married the daughter of Jonathan Cottingham, who has been mentioned in another chapter. Wr. Woodley lived in Hebron township, but on the Clio side. He was a man of integrity and industry, and taught it to his sons, John C. and Jonathan. John C., his oldest son, married Miss Mary John, and near the village of Clio they have reared a fine family, sons and daughters of character and worth, who know how to appreciate the advantages that have come from a father's energy and thrift, a mother's prudence and piety. Mr. Woodley died a few years ago. Jonathan, living between his own father and Col. Covington, the father of his wife, could hardly be excused, if he had failed to make of himself a comfortable home, and of himself a useful, worthy citizen of the County. Additional Comments: Extracted from: A HISTORY OF MARLBORO COUNTY, WITH TRADITIONS AND SKETCHES OF NUMEROUS FAMILIES. REV. J. A. W. THOMAS, AUTHOR. A wonderful stream is the river Time As it runs through the realms of tears With a faultless rhythm and a musical rhyme, And a broader sweep and a surge sublime As it blends with the ocean of years. —TENNYSON. ATLANTA, GA.: THE FOOTE & DAVIES COMPANY, Printers and Binders. 1897. 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