Andrew Jackson and Daratha Melton Moore - Smith County, TX Contributed by Dr. Alma Moore Freeland Submitted by East Texas Genealogical Society P. O. Box 6967, Tyler, TX 75711 Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm ***************************************************************** Originally published in East Texas Family Records, Volume 14 Number 1, Spring 1990 beginning on page 31. Andrew Jackson and Daratha Melton Moore by Dr. Alma Moore Freeland, Tyler, Texas Dr. Alma Moore Freeland, a native of Troup, and graduate of Tyler High School, holds a B. A. degree from Texas Technological College, M. A. from Columbia University, and Ph.D. from the University of Texas. She is now professor emeritus at the University, having retired in 1969, and resides in Tyler. SOME MEMORIES OF MY GRANDPARENTS So many cherished memories come to mind when I recall the times my sister, two brothers and I shared a part of each day with our Moore grandparents. My earliest memories center around those soft summer evenings when I lay on a folded quilt on the front porch of the old Moore homestead one mile east of Troup, TX. I hurt from bee stings; I was tired from trying to "look after" two active young brothers and several assorted cousins; I was happy over the joyful experiences of the day - chasing golden butterflies, picking wild flowers to use in trimming our leaf hats we had made; eating pink lucious wild plums and juicy summer apples; and I was sad when I was suddenly pulled out of my reverie by the sweet, haunting call of a whippoorwill. To this day - some seventy years later -I recall those feelings. Today especially as I write this story a mixture of superb happiness and poignant sadness comes over me. I am told this is a common experience for those of us who dare to look backward! Mealtime stands out as one of the highlights each day, tho I confess I did not like Mamma's insistence on our "washing up" - even our red, grimy feet before we were allowed to sit at the table with "decent people". All the children went barefoot for two main reasons - it was so deliciously cool to wiggle one's toes in the sandy yard and lanes - and from one's practical point of view shoes were expensive - they didn't grow on trees! In fact, water was so scarce in the Troup area we had to go to "the well" about a quarter of a mile away for every precious drop. But Grandma thought that was fine and a great improvement over the days when she had to ride her horse and take the bundle of clothes to be washed at a spring over two miles away! In our time conservation was practiced to the extent that more than one pair of hands and feet shared the same soapy suds. The chinaberry trees and lilac bushes flourished from the same refreshments. At the table neither of our grandparents seemed to notice that we were rather damp from an exciting water fight. Mamma did -of course; but we ignored her accusing eyes in our anticipation of a hearty meal. Meals were always very simple but ever so bountiful at our Moore grand- parents table! (Quite a contrast to the fare provided when we visited our Hill kinfolk. Our Hill grandparents not only served a bountiful amount but they also served a much greater variety including some "store-bought" goodies. Of course Grandma Hill was taught to cook by her French Mother and Grandmother. That could have made a difference). But Grandma Moore knew how to cook too; just to think about her jelly cake and cornbread still makes my mouth water! Then there were bowls of real butter kept cool in a special cooler in the open hall; then when spring and summer came her garden provided such delicious dishes as tiny okra pods, succulent blackeyed peas cooked with a bit of sow- belly; turnip greens over which she had spent hours looking for bugs; big mugs of clabber or buttermilk; all topped off with that cornbread (made with home-grown, ground meal) and jelly roll. Then there were days when Grandma served home-smoked ham and bacon. But the best of all were the days she brought forth a big platter of fried chicken cooked in meal and tiny bit of flour! There will never be fried chicken like Grandma Moore's again! Meals were served on a long table at one end of a very large kitchen; a wood stove and tables and cabinets -called safes -provided space for preparation of food at the other end of the room. There were only two chairs at the table - one for Grandpa at the heard of the table, the other for Grandma. Long benches on both sides were for the other diners. Quilts were used to raise the little ones for comfortable eating. The blessing was given by Grandpa unless there was a special guest to offer it. Somehow Grandma managed to seat their favorite grandchildren near her husband or herself! So my sister, Mae, and cousins Eunice and Edgar shared the honors. (Yes, grandparents do have favorites!) The dining and other experiences changed in 1913 when Grandpa had a severe stroke and remained crippled until he died September 19, 1919. Grandpa never regained the use of his left side and life for our Grandparents was never the same for them, their children or grandchildren. During those early days of my association with my Moore Grandparents, I was too young to be interested in their past experiences. Neither family history nor current relationships meant anything to me. Consequently, I made no conscious efforts to learn about my grandparents' heritages; I doubt if I even knew the meaning of the word ancestor. I was twelve years old when my greatgrand father Hackett Webb Melton died. During the years he lived with his daugh- ter, Daratha Melton Moore, I never once asked him a single question about his heritage. However, in looking back over those years, I now realize I was "picking up" many important facts about my Moore and Melton grandparents. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough curiosity to follow up on such information. I never took advantage of the many opportunities to question the many aunts, uncles, coucins, other in- laws and elderly neighbors and friends who could have given me first- hand facts. Unfortunately, when I became sufficiently interested in my Moore ancestors, these resources were no longer available; I had to go the very expensive route. For years now I have examined family, legal, church records; I have haunted libraries for census and other published materials; trudged through dusty cemeteries; written hundreds of letters and queries; made phone calls and had interviews with anybody who would listen to me. I am happy to say that I have tried to share all of my information with others in the hope that some day somebody will return the favor. I'm happy to say some have been so generous! Thus from many resources I have been able to "put together" many interesting and essential facts about my Moore Grandparents. Naturally, this enriches the many memories I like to recall. The records show that: Grandpa Andrew Jackson Moore was born December 13, 1848 in DeKalb, Kemper County, Mississippi. He died September 19, 1919, and was buried in Union Grove Cemetery one mile east of Troup. He was a son of Sovereighn R. Moore and Sarah Mathis. Thus far I have been unable to trace parents and other ancestors of Sovereighn R. Moore who was born in N.C. about 1800. He was married three times, Sarah Mathis was the second wife. They came to Texas, Cherokee County about 1854. Sarah died soon afterwards. She was the daughter of David Mathis and first wife, a daughter of George and Rester Crawford. We were fortunate in finding many splendid records of the Mathis and Crawford families in the office of the county judge in Abbeville, S.C. Sarah's grandfather Joseph Mathis and great grandfather Victor Mathis were Revolutionary soldiers. Grandma Daratha Melton Moore was born October 30, 1854 in Wright City in the family homestead, a house which still stands across the Smith- Rusk County line in East Texas as few miles east of Tyler, Texas. She died December 6, 1923 and is buried by her husband in Union Grove. She was one of six children born to Hackett Webb Melton and his first wife, Mary Hulsey, a daughter of William and Janie Cooper Hulsey. The Meltons and Hulseys were natives of Georgia; they came to Texas in the middle 1840's. We have been very successful in tracing Daratha Melton's ancestors. Thomas and Ann Wallingson Melton came to Virginia from England about 1619. They came on the ship, MARGARET, and were among the earliest settlers in the Colony. Daratha Melton's ancestor, Jeremiah Melton was a Revolutionary War soldier from N.C.; her father Hackett Webb Melton was a Confederate Soldier. Daratha Melton's ancestor, John Stroud, was a Revolutionary Soldier; his father came from England. In the fall of 1977 I spent a month in England and had a most interesting visit to Barrington Court, Ilminster, Somerset, the Stroud (Strode) ancestral estate. Daratha's mother, Mary Hulsey Melton died June 30, 1861; soon after his wife's death Hackett Webb joined the confederacy; he left the six children with relatives. After his discharge he married Tabitha Daniell and moved his family to Van Zandt County. It was in Van Zandt County, Texas on December 26, 1870 that Andrew Jackson Moore married Daratha Melton. A few days prior to his marriage, Andrew Jackson Moore purchased a farm one mile east of Troup; the records are located in the Smith County Courthouse in Tyler. It was a part of the Eason Gee League. I found no record as to when the house was built. This home became the birthplace of the six sons born to Andrew Jackson and Daratha Melton Moore. In addition to my father, John R. Moore, there were Charles, Lee, Shade, Jack and Sam. For about fifty years Uncle Jack and Aunt Dary as my grandparents were cailed lived on their farm and enjoyed visits from their children and grandchildren, friends and neighbors. After Grandpa died, Uncle Lee and his family moved from Kerens and took care of Grandma in exchange for a clear deed and title to the homeplace. When Grandma died in 1923 the house was torn down and a new structure built nearby mainly from the old lumber. It was such a sad day when I viewed the scene and realized that the old house and all it stood for was gone. As Margaret Mitchell may have said: "It was gone with the wind". But not my memories of my Grandparents and of some of the happy days we spent near them when we lived in the little home Papa built on the five acres of land his parents gave him and Mamma for their wedding present. Could the fact that it was my birthplace make my memories especially tender adn significant for me? Andrew Jackson Moore was a handsome young man; an early photograph proves this. However, it is not the fine-looking, clean-shaven young man I remember. My earliest picture of my grandfather could be compared with one of General Robert E. Lee; indeed I have always compared the two men; they could have been brothers with the same barber taking care of their fine be-whiskered faces! I never saw him do any kind of manual work -he left the work on the big plantation - farm to his sons and tenants. He was always dressed in business attire -his "Sunday-best" as we called it. I like to remember him sitting erect, his big beige stetson hat at a jaunty angle while he tried to calm his huge, purebred belgium stallion called JIM KEY. Apparently, Jim Key was a profitable stud horse and we children were forbidden to go near the stable. Although the Moore sons may not agreed with their parents at all times, my fathers said they were grateful to them for requiring them to learn how to work a~d to go to school. I recall how Papa and his brother Uncle Jack often laughed when they recalled an incident that happened when they were boys. Grandpa came into their bedroom early one morning and reprimanded Uncle Shade severly for over-sleeping while John was already up and in the barn feeding and caring for the cows." The truth was John was on the floor under the bed trying to hide until his father left the room! All of the six sons graduated from high school; four of them received college degrees, and three entered the teaching profession. Her eldest son, Charles Mathis, taught Grandma Daratha to read and write before he went off to Sam Houston State Teachers College. It appears that he loved her very much and wanted them to correspond while he was away. Grandpa must have received a rather adequate education for he was able to meet the requirements in his business, church and political activities. He was a true Southerner; but he evidently never imitated the drawl of his neighbors; his was a soft but firm educated voice accepted by the most cultured people around him. Grandma and each of her sons possessed the same fine voice quality as well as other characteristics and attributes of culture and refinement. I often wondered how this could be possible. Of course I knew the Moores were fairly well-to-do and had many educational opportunities. Then it all became clear to me as I began to do my genealogical research and to uncover the past, to discover their heritage. I found such convincing background information about the Meltons, the Matthews of South Carolina, the Hulseys, Webbs and Crows of South Carolina and Georgia, the Strouds of Virginia, Georgia and England; they were the descendents of good stock! One of the most interesting findings was the number of Baptist preachers among members of our direct lines as well as among allied families. Andrew Jackson Moore was a very religious man; his faith was severely tested many times and in my opinion he proved that he was a true believer. I had the opportunity to observe this side of his life many times and in many ways. There were two daily observances which were observed in the Moore home until the end. First, there was always a rather lengthy period of grace -thanks to the Lord for the food which He provided. Then there was the daily evening worship time. It was an important part of the day and provide for me some of the tenderest memories of my association with my grandparents. Grandpa and Grandma led the way by kneeling by their chairs. Their guest were expected to do likewise; however, I recall that most of the time the children were restless or fell asleep. I know that I seldom remained awake throughout the Bible reading and lengthy prayer time; but Mamma always gave me a reminder where it hurt when I dozed or wiggled too much. The memory of those nights is etched in my mind. I see three or more generations kneeling in the soft glow of a kerosene lamp on a handhewn table. I hear the sincere petition from the voices of my grand parents and my father thanking God for His many blessings and beseeching His continous care. It made a deep impression on me and makes me wish such a practice could be more widely followed today. I s.incerely believe it would help to reduce many of the causes of poor family relationships, crime, drugs and other current problems. Even after his stroke they continued the evening prayer service and we participated in the summer months when we were there between school sessions. I have the feeling Grandpa spent thousands of hours of silent prayer as he sat in his wheelchair in the open hallway or by the fireside. I realize now that he was so alone, so lonely and lonesome even with his dear Dary by his side. These memories are so sad for me - now that I have reached this age. I wonder why we were so neglectful; I wonder why we were so neglectiful of Papa too for I know he had many lonely days. But both father and son seemed to bear their crosses without a whisper - so great was their faith in God. The same was true of Grandma. Grandpa was fortunate in that his Dary also had great courage and dignity. She was God's great gift to her husband and sons and descendents. How she managed to keep so serene would be a mystery to me if I did not know she was a great Christian. Her physical and e motional strength were almost unbelievable. Of those days I think- If Grandpa sat tall in the saddle on Jim Key during his glory days- now he sat tall in his wheelchair with Dary at his side! They had courage! Of course before the stroke his courage was tested many times and probably no more severely than when he was "turned out of the First Baptist Church in Troup, Texas"! Why? I do not know. Andrew Jackson Moore was not a timid man; he no doubt held a rather high esteem of himself; perhaps he was too opinionated and not willing to compromise. At any rate he was a very active member of the church and participated in many ways. No doubt he offended some good "bretherns" or "sisters" and they decided to get rid of "the thorn in the flesh" .It was the custom in those days to remove those who did not follow the straight and narrow path as it was viewed by the main congregation. Papa was the church clerk at the time and it was his duty to read the decision before the entire church membership including Grandpa. Papa told me one day it was on of the saddest jobs he ever had to do. That was all he would tell me and as the years passed he became more reluctant to discuss the matter at all. The story had an interesting ending! It seems that "Brother Baskett" and other members and "notables" who engineered Grandpa's dismissal were considerably surprised when Andrew Jackson Moore far from "going to the Devil" went down into the country and established a new church (Primitive Baptist I think) to the Glory of God and Man (Bravo, Grandpa!) He bought and furnished a big covered wagon with a bed, food, lamps, and other necessities. This was of course before he was paralyzed and he was able to sit high on the spring-seat and drive the two strudy mules over thQse rough roads probably down Salem way. For a time he went from place to place as an itinerate evangelist spreading the Word of God according to his interpretation of the Bible. When Grandpa returned from one of his Camp meetings and traveling Church trips, I was impressed almost awed by all the care he took to clean, repair and store the material and equipment he had carried with him. The tall, banjo-type lambs were cleaned and hung on the Office Walls. The "office" was a one room building standing in one corner of the front yard originally used to store meat, cornmeal, flour, salt, coffee, sugar and other foodstuff parcelled out to the tenant farmers. A ledger was used to keep the records for each family. Gradually less land was cultivated, the tenants moved away and the Office was used by the family for storing Grandma's homemade soap, sour kraut, syrup and other items needed by the family. Naturally, it was a ideal place to store Grandpa's traveling equipment. Long, wooden boxes were scrubbed with soap and lye to remove grease left by big slabs of bacon and cured hams. Big jugs used to hold sorgham syrup, coffee beans, sugar and other foods were cleaned and aired for the next trip. Quilts and blankets were sunned, harness oiled, wagon sides and wheels painted or whitewashed. Benches were scrubbed, cane-bottom chairs re-strung; the canvas used to cover the wagon was checked for tares and mended. All was then stored in readiness for the next revival "down in the country" .(I forgot to mention the song books with the beautiful old songs and the quarter-note music. Grandma didn't go on the trips but she often played the songs on the beautiful organ in the parlor.) The truth is she was terribly up-set by the dismissal of her husband from the First Baptist Church in Troup. When Grandpa died she refused to have the service conducted there. Ironically, Uncle Charlie and his brothers made the arrangements and Grandma's funeral was held in the church which she had refused to attend for many years. Of course I was too young to go along with Grandpa (even if he had wanted me or any of his grandchildren) on his trips before his stroke ended that part of his life. But his paralysis seemed to increase his need for spiritual help; so he continued to go to some brush-arbor meeting when he could persuade Papa or Uncle Jack to take him in the buggy. I recall that I begged to go with Papa and Grandpa one night to a brush-arbor meeting nearby in the Salem community. I sat in the small box space behind the seat where they sat. Gone were all the fine horses on the farm; there was just Old Charley who moved with arthritic-like speed. Since Mamma didn't object, it must have been a safe means of transportation. There was just room for my rear in the tiny space - my legs and feet were literally "over-flowing" and dangled along to the rhythm of Old Charlie's hoofbeats. From time to time the flying rocks would snap me out of my doze as the creaky wheels turned through the sandy ruts in the road. Memories of those journeys linger in my heart. Even at that early age I was aware that the service were generally conducted by faith-healers. But I think I understood that when a man can move neither arm nor leg and not at all except with the aid of other people and crutches, his faith and hope reach out for any available help for recovery. When the heart is right -don't miracles sometimes happen? His awareness of the power of prayer was great! Perhaps as long as he had hope and faith life would be bearable. Maybe Grandpa came to the same conclusion I have reached: the miracle may be my acceptance of my situation! After these trips there was seldom any visible change in him physically or emotionally. He sat as usual with his head bowed. Sometimes if he heard hoof- beats or the sound of creaky wagon wheels, he would send one of us out to the road with an invitation to the traveler to stop by for a cool drink. Most accepted the invitation for practically everyone in that area knew "Uncle Jack and Aunt Dary Moore". Some were descendents of former slaves; some were contemporaries enjoying better health than he. His courtly manners were extended to all his visitors. After these visits he often shared his feelings with Grandma. His reaction to a visit from a representative of the Guaranty State Bank of Troup was not so gracious. As a stockholder he had just lost most of his life savings when it failed. But my sister, Mae, was often able to generate a lively reminiscence when she reminded him of the times he would give her peppermint candy through the train window when it stopped briefly in Whitehouse. Grandpa's guardianship duties required him to make frequent trips to Tyler, county seat of Smith county. Our house was close to the depot and when we heard the whistle we ran over to the track to wait for Grandpa for a brief chat and a sack of peppermint candy for "little Mae" one of the few persons with whom he showed any devotion. Mae was overjoyed; I always sulked a bit; I didn't like peppermint candy; and I'm sure I realized I was not one of his favorites! During those young, vigorous days Andrew Jackson Moore was sought after by lawyers and judges to serve as guardian for orphan children. His honesty, integrity, dependability were recognised by such distinguished people as Judge Fitzgerald and Judge Thomas B. Ramey. They often expressed their respect for the tall, handsome landower from Troup. Judge Ramey, who was president of the Tyler School Board during my teaching tenure and my personal friend and attorney, once told me -"Uncle Jack Moore's records can be read only by him, but no one ever questions his accuracy and integrity." We know nothing about Grandpa's education, but these and other records demonstrate his ability to hold his own in a rather sophisticated business world even for his time. Gradually, Grandpa's traveling days became fewer; but he was never one to give up and he often expressed a desire to go to town. When I was about eleven years old we spent the summer as usual in Troup in our home there. I was given the opportunity to drive Grandpa over to town one day. First, on the appointed day I walked to the wooded pasture about one half mile from their house to get Charlie, the big old gentle horse, stand on a stump to bridle him and ride him bareback to the stable for Grandma to help me hitch him to the buggy. (It is comforting to recall that there was a time when a young girl could walk into the woods without fear of molestation.) I'm sure I was a unique driver but my Grandfather never scolded me or did anything to add to my nervousness. When we arrived in the town with a big parasol over us, some of his cronies would emerge smiling from the store and help him out of the buggy, into a sturdy cane-bottomed chair. When his crutches were safely deposited on a counter and the pipes and tobacco in place, (Grandpa was an abstainer of all such things) I was free to walk about the store and to go out to window shop. I do not recall ever having made a purchase of anykind for myself; but sometimes I bought crochet thread for Grandma. I had taught her to crochet and she loved it! Then Grandpa, Charley and I went back to the farm over the sandy old road that "remembered" the footprints of the six Moore boys who had traveled it years before! As we approached the gate, Charlie quickened his pace; and once Grandma and I released him from the bridle and buggy he seemed almost frisky, no doubt thinking of that bit of extra food he would have before he left for the green pasture! On my way home I went through the hall to tell Grandpa goodby and was relieved to see that he was telling Dary about the trip; he looked relaxed and optimistic. I wondered how Grandma has spent the time while we were away. I had a feeling that she appreciated having the time alone to pursue interests or tasks that she must do alone. For one thing she had been to her garden; a pan of fresh beans was on the table, her work shoes lay on the steps. Maybe she had used the precious time to draw or paint. She was very artistic. How she would in later years have enjoyed the artistic talent and results of some of her descendents. My sister Mae was an art teacher for years; her works won many prizes in East Texas. Her granddaughters, Helen and Ruth Moore were also artist of great promise. In her day handmade quilts were a necessity; a quilting frame stood constantly in one of her empty rooms always ready for a few stitches. Although she loved her Bible her ability to read it easily was minimal. That left crocheting and sewing. She made her clothes - usually by hand tho she did occasionally use her old sewing machine. Her skirts were long and very full; the shirtwaists had many tiny tucks, buttons; the neckband was often made of lace or crochet. The result was a dainty little lady; very quaint and lovely. I am very proud of my Moore Grandparents. (picture) ANDREW JACKSON MOORE and wife, DARATHA MELTON MOORE "UNCLE JACK AND AUNT DORY" This is very likely the last picture of this type made of Granpa and Granma Moore. I do not know when it was made --before or after Grandpa's strokes, which left him paralyzed one one side. Grandma made all of her clothes and I remember very well the little shirtwaist she is wearing in this picture. She had a sewing machine but most of the time she made her clothes "by hand" -every stitch even and sturdy as could be. She did everything in that way -as perfect as she could make it; from sewing to cooking; from painting lovely pictures to gardening. Now that I have traced her line back to a member of the Parliament of England, I know why she always conducted herself like a LADY. Had the Strouds not come to America she no doubt would have lived among the elite of England. I am so glad they came so that she could marry Andrew Jackson Moore whose Moore ancestry I have as yet not found. But WE will some day! -------------------------------------------------------------------- Note: Obituaries for Andrew Jackson Moore and Daratha Melton Moore may be found in the Smith County TXGenWeb Archives.