GED4WEB version 4.41 Dantzler James [Male] b. BET 1815 AND 1844 unknown - d. BET 1869 AND 1929 unknown
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1. David and Frances lived in the Providence Community, SC and are buried in the old family cemetery.
2. When the war broke out, Grandfather David Wesley Evans was past the age to be drafted, but on December 24, 1861, at Orangeburg, South Carolina, he volunteered to serve in the cavalry for three years. He was placed in Co. A 5th South Carolina Cavalry, Ferguson's Regiment.
While he was away fighting in the battlefields of Virginia, Grandmother and the children managed their 800 to 900 acre farm as best they could. Benjamin wasn't quite 14 and Fredrick 12 when their father left.
Grandfather, like other Confederate soldiers, was fighting for what he felt was a just cause. The war cost them not only the loss of their slaves- and Mama told me "they were the likeliest set of slaves anywhere around"- but also the loss of all but 100 acres of their farm land. I understand that during the war the land had to be mortgaged to pay for a local doctor's bills and that the valuation of the land was set at a ridiculously low price. According to the census of 1860 David Wesley Evans' real estate was valued at $5000.00.
It must have been a terrible blow for the family to have been suddenly thrown into virtual poverty. Grandfather's health was never very good after the war, which made it more difficult for him to carry on the work of the farm. Of course some of the former slaves stayed on and "toughed it out" with the family. Mama said that their family was referred to during those years as a "poor, proud family". True, they never lost their pride. It was also true that they knew how to deal with their diminished resources.
I don't think the girls ever had to scrub the floors or do the family wash. The blacks, who remained, loved them and would not have wanted them to do the menial tasks. They may not have been paid much in money, but their was meat in the smokehouse and syrup in the barrels which could be given them for such work.
I'm told that the girls sold peanuts to make money for their cloths. It was much easier a task to pick peanuts from the vines and dry them than to scrub the hard pine floors and wash cloths on an old-fashioned washboard.
No matter how much money people had in those days the girls were generally taught to sew. Some, of course, were more adept with the needle than others. Fortunately, most of the Evans girls were excellent seamstresses. There were six girls in the family and, as I understand it, they set up sort of a dressmaking shop in their home. When my mother became old enough she was given the sleeves to make. Aunt Lula stayed with a well-to-do family from time to tome sewing for them and making a little money. Naturally, their own cloths were beautifully made. Though they couldn't have many dresses, they kept up with the fashions. I have in my possession one of the old fashion books when the leg-of-mutton sleeve was in vogue.
The older children were educated in schools, but mama told me she never had more than four or five months of formal schooling in her life. That's what the war did for her and others close to her age. Aunt Hattie was a teacher and a good one. On a separate page is a lesson in phonics set to music which she used. She was also very gifted as a story-teller. I recall too the peep-boxes she made for us children when she visited us. She must have taught the younger children in the home during the off-school months.
Grandfather was a book-lover and had a good library. I must think he instilled in his children the necessity of learning to read so that they could read the books he loved.
Though Mama had only haphazard teaching, she could read a printed page more rapidly than I even shortly before she died. She was an excellent storyteller too, but she never exhibited her talent beyond the home. Neighbor children would stop by for a treat from time to time when grandchildren were there. She would sit down on the rug with them enthralling them with her oft-told tales.
Aunt Hattie who did not marry until later in life, was the family's benefactor. She made some money teaching and bought back some land for the family. When Mama married, it was Aunt Hattie who gave her an oak bedroom suite. (Oak was a popular wood used for furniture then). I have one of the cane bottom chairs that I prize highly.
I must mention Uncle Lee's wife Suzanna Arant, who married him December 29, 1891. Uncle Lee brought his bride to his fathers home. In the home, besides his parents, were Aunt Leah, Rosa my mother, Aunt Lula, who was in and out, and likely Aunt Hattie at times too, for she had not yet married.
Aunt Sue was a quiet, gentle woman who never became ruffled. She bore twelve children, eight of whom lived to adulthood. The first child born to Lee and Sue was Frank. There were twins a little over a year later. My mother often remarked that she never loved any of her own children more than she did Frank. He was always attentive to her, especially in her old age. Where could we find such an expanded household today that runs as harmoniously as that one was said to do? I believe it could only be if there was to be found another Sue Arant. This remarkable woman lived through it all to be ninety-one years old.
My mother is due some credit too, for Grandmother was ill for some years and Mama assumed the responsibility of caring for her. Suitors were turned away for Mama felt she couldn't marry as long as her mother lived. Frank was just two months old when Grandmother died December 2, 1892. Naturally he filled a void in Mama's life at that crucial time.
Then a year or two later Papa came on the scene, as Jimmy Wroton so vividly described it. They were married January 23, 1896. Aunt Leah was still in the home and so was Grandfather. We don't have the record of Aunt Leah's birth, but we know she was nearly 97 when she died. To the best of our calculations, their deaths must have been within a year or so of each other. Grandfather died February 28, 1900.
After Mama left home, fire destroyed all the prized family possessions. Included were Aunt Hattie's and Aunt Lula's Mahogany bedroom suites. The carving on the bedposts were of a pineapple design. The only thing that I heard was salvaged from the fire was some molten silver found in the ashes. Again it was Aunt Hattie who had some serving pieces made from the silver. She gave at least one piece to each member of the family.
Because of the fire it seems no one has a keepsake from David Wesley Evans' home except these pieces of silver. But I have recently learned that Carson Dehay Evans has a Mahogany lap desk in excellent condition that belonged to another of Roland Evans' grandsons. The desk, about 20 inches long, 12 inches wide, and 9 inches deep, belonged to James Robert Moorer, Carson's great-great-grandfather. It was given to Carson by his mother Eva Carson Evans, who is descended from Roland Evans through daughter Polly. Carson's father Frank Evans is descended from Roland through son John.
(OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by: Annie Belle Bodie, "The David Evans Family During and Following the War Between the States", p.10 - p.13)
3. In the spring of 1977, I made the comment in a letter to Jimmy Wroton that I was gathering some information on our Evans Ancestors and regretted that I was not privileged to know our grandfather. In reply, Jimmy, then in his 94th year, wrote charmingly of the Evanses as he knew them when a lad. With his permission I am Quoting from what he termed:
"Fragments of the Evans Clan Background"
Aunt Rosa , your sweet and saintly mother, was a jewel in my life not to be forgotten. My own precious mother's untimely passing left a void in my emotions that still lingers. Aunt Rosa, next youngest (girl) to her in the family, seemed so close. Noting that your data on the dantzlers is in good shape, I can happily contribute a few comments on your daddy's life as I recall him. Dashing up to the old Providence farmhouse, a rambling two and a half story, comfortable, many-roomed place, in a new buggy pulled by a snazzy, spirited horse, he was the epitome of a then up-to-date swain. A very handsome one. The lady, always the dearest of the Evans girls except Betty, who had earlier married Preacher Wroton, the father of jimmy Wroton of doubtful status in those days. Your father's long, useful and productive years as banker, churchman and citizen deserves only praiseworthy recordings.
Getting back to the Evans tribe, my mother's father David Wesley Evans was the youngest of three brothers, the eldest, whose name escapes me, inherited the family home (John Evans' home), an imposing, typical, white-pillared mansion with a long avenue of trees leading up to it from the Charleston road. As a small boy I remember Mama taking me and others of her brood to see our great-uncle there. He seemed to us to be something of an ogre, for we had to be on our best behavior. With Victor and Jimmy that lasted about ten minutes, for at that age we were curious about refreshments.
Grandfather Evans' home, about three miles from the old family mansion, was, as mentioned, a large place on that part of the plantation willed to him. A big deep (well) supplied water; there were oodles of fruit trees, lots of sycamores for shade, scuppernong grapevines, and other mouth-watering products my tired old bean can't recall. The large horse and mule barns and lots, the hogs, chickens, ducks, guineas, turkeys were all there to satisfy the family's many needs.
One rather significant plantation factor that deeply impressed my boyish mind was Aunt Leah Evans, Grandfathers venerable maiden sister, who was really a sort of mild but ruling czaress. She was totally deaf and, using a long old fashioned trumpet, scared little Jimmy witless when he ventured into her presence. Thought in her early years to be marked for a short life, she actually outlived all of her generation into her late nineties.
Through the loving and adoring heart and eyes of a pint sized grand-son, I recall our grandfather (David Wesley Evans) as a small man, lean and wiry, always busy and cheerful, but with plenty of time to keep in touch with the young. He had the endurance of a deerhound, which saw him through the War between the States under his beloved General Beauregard, for whom my mother was named Elizabeth Beauregard Evans.
I remember grandfather one cold and frosty morning taking me with him to check his partridge traps. They were full of beautiful grown quail. In those far back times, game was an important item of food and there were no laws restricting owners. With great care and gentleness he packed them away in his game bag. But the last one he handed over to me. "Jimmy, hold this little fellow a minute for me." My tiny fists took the creature from him and with a whir and a flash he had his freedom. In flight a mature quail is one of the strongest and speediest of any living thing, size for size.
Uncle Buddy (David Wesley Lee Evans) was my hero. He took me on hunting and fishing jaunts. Sometimes we stayed out all night when we slept under quilts and caught our own supper and breakfast. One morning a lively water moccasin was crawling over my bed. With no fuss at all Uncle Buddy brushed it away. Oh, those were the days! (OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by: Annie Belle Bodie, p.5 - 7, Fragments of the Evans Clan Background)
5. Jimmy Wroton died the day after his 94th birthday on December 26,1977. He was truly a remarkable person. After his mothers death the family moved to the old Wroton home in Denmark, South Carolina. He had a year in school there, then when he was between 16 and 17 years old he got work on the railroad. Though higher education was not available to him he rose to be vice-president of operations of the Norfolk and Southern Railroad. Jimmy not only became successful in business, but he was a polished, lovable gentleman, a delightful conversationalist and, as you have seen, a gifted writer. We are most grateful for his contribution to our Evans Heritage, written eight months before his death. (OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by: Annie Belle Bodie p.7 )
6. It was a mystery to me how my great-grand-father's house could have had a tree liner driveway to the Charleston road, since the site of his house is three or more miles south of the present highway (176) to Charleston. A relative explained it this was: The old road bed, still visible in places, did not run where the road runs now. It was along this original section of the road that the early houses were built and from which John Evans' avenue of trees led to his house.
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1. David and Frances lived in the Providence Community, SC and are buried in the old family cemetery.
2. When the war broke out, Grandfather David Wesley Evans was past the age to be drafted, but on December 24, 1861, at Orangeburg, South Carolina, he volunteered to serve in the cavalry for three years. He was placed in Co. A 5th South Carolina Cavalry, Ferguson's Regiment.
While he was away fighting in the battlefields of Virginia, Grandmother and the children managed their 800 to 900 acre farm as best they could. Benjamin wasn't quite 14 and Fredrick 12 when their father left.
Grandfather, like other Confederate soldiers, was fighting for what he felt was a just cause. The war cost them not only the loss of their slaves- and Mama told me "they were the likeliest set of slaves anywhere around"- but also the loss of all but 100 acres of their farm land. I understand that during the war the land had to be mortgaged to pay for a local doctor's bills and that the valuation of the land was set at a ridiculously low price. According to the census of 1860 David Wesley Evans' real estate was valued at $5000.00.
It must have been a terrible blow for the family to have been suddenly thrown into virtual poverty. Grandfather's health was never very good after the war, which made it more difficult for him to carry on the work of the farm. Of course some of the former slaves stayed on and "toughed it out" with the family. Mama said that their family was referred to during those years as a "poor, proud family". True, they never lost their pride. It was also true that they knew how to deal with their diminished resources.
I don't think the girls ever had to scrub the floors or do the family wash. The blacks, who remained, loved them and would not have wanted them to do the menial tasks. They may not have been paid much in money, but their was meat in the smokehouse and syrup in the barrels which could be given them for such work.
I'm told that the girls sold peanuts to make money for their cloths. It was much easier a task to pick peanuts from the vines and dry them than to scrub the hard pine floors and wash cloths on an old-fashioned washboard.
No matter how much money people had in those days the girls were generally taught to sew. Some, of course, were more adept with the needle than others. Fortunately, most of the Evans girls were excellent seamstresses. There were six girls in the family and, as I understand it, they set up sort of a dressmaking shop in their home. When my mother became old enough she was given the sleeves to make. Aunt Lula stayed with a well-to-do family from time to tome sewing for them and making a little money. Naturally, their own cloths were beautifully made. Though they couldn't have many dresses, they kept up with the fashions. I have in my possession one of the old fashion books when the leg-of-mutton sleeve was in vogue.
The older children were educated in schools, but mama told me she never had more than four or five months of formal schooling in her life. That's what the war did for her and others close to her age. Aunt Hattie was a teacher and a good one. On a separate page is a lesson in phonics set to music which she used. She was also very gifted as a story-teller. I recall too the peep-boxes she made for us children when she visited us. She must have taught the younger children in the home during the off-school months.
Grandfather was a book-lover and had a good library. I must think he instilled in his children the necessity of learning to read so that they could read the books he loved.
Though Mama had only haphazard teaching, she could read a printed page more rapidly than I even shortly before she died. She was an excellent storyteller too, but she never exhibited her talent beyond the home. Neighbor children would stop by for a treat from time to time when grandchildren were there. She would sit down on the rug with them enthralling them with her oft-told tales.
Aunt Hattie who did not marry until later in life, was the family's benefactor. She made some money teaching and bought back some land for the family. When Mama married, it was Aunt Hattie who gave her an oak bedroom suite. (Oak was a popular wood used for furniture then). I have one of the cane bottom chairs that I prize highly.
I must mention Uncle Lee's wife Suzanna Arant, who married him December 29, 1891. Uncle Lee brought his bride to his fathers home. In the home, besides his parents, were Aunt Leah, Rosa my mother, Aunt Lula, who was in and out, and likely Aunt Hattie at times too, for she had not yet married.
Aunt Sue was a quiet, gentle woman who never became ruffled. She bore twelve children, eight of whom lived to adulthood. The first child born to Lee and Sue was Frank. There were twins a little over a year later. My mother often remarked that she never loved any of her own children more than she did Frank. He was always attentive to her, especially in her old age. Where could we find such an expanded household today that runs as harmoniously as that one was said to do? I believe it could only be if there was to be found another Sue Arant. This remarkable woman lived through it all to be ninety-one years old.
My mother is due some credit too, for Grandmother was ill for some years and Mama assumed the responsibility of caring for her. Suitors were turned away for Mama felt she couldn't marry as long as her mother lived. Frank was just two months old when Grandmother died December 2, 1892. Naturally he filled a void in Mama's life at that crucial time.
Then a year or two later Papa came on the scene, as Jimmy Wroton so vividly described it. They were married January 23, 1896. Aunt Leah was still in the home and so was Grandfather. We don't have the record of Aunt Leah's birth, but we know she was nearly 97 when she died. To the best of our calculations, their deaths must have been within a year or so of each other. Grandfather died February 28, 1900.
After Mama left home, fire destroyed all the prized family possessions. Included were Aunt Hattie's and Aunt Lula's Mahogany bedroom suites. The carving on the bedposts were of a pineapple design. The only thing that I heard was salvaged from the fire was some molten silver found in the ashes. Again it was Aunt Hattie who had some serving pieces made from the silver. She gave at least one piece to each member of the family.
Because of the fire it seems no one has a keepsake from David Wesley Evans' home except these pieces of silver. But I have recently learned that Carson Dehay Evans has a Mahogany lap desk in excellent condition that belonged to another of Roland Evans' grandsons. The desk, about 20 inches long, 12 inches wide, and 9 inches deep, belonged to James Robert Moorer, Carson's great-great-grandfather. It was given to Carson by his mother Eva Carson Evans, who is descended from Roland Evans through daughter Polly. Carson's father Frank Evans is descended from Roland through son John.
(OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by: Annie Belle Bodie, "The David Evans Family During and Following the War Between the States", p.10 - p.13)
3. In the spring of 1977, I made the comment in a letter to Jimmy Wroton that I was gathering some information on our Evans Ancestors and regretted that I was not privileged to know our grandfather. In reply, Jimmy, then in his 94th year, wrote charmingly of the Evanses as he knew them when a lad. With his permission I am Quoting from what he termed:
"Fragments of the Evans Clan Background"
Aunt Rosa , your sweet and saintly mother, was a jewel in my life not to be forgotten. My own precious mother's untimely passing left a void in my emotions that still lingers. Aunt Rosa, next youngest (girl) to her in the family, seemed so close. Noting that your data on the dantzlers is in good shape, I can happily contribute a few comments on your daddy's life as I recall him. Dashing up to the old Providence farmhouse, a rambling two and a half story, comfortable, many-roomed place, in a new buggy pulled by a snazzy, spirited horse, he was the epitome of a then up-to-date swain. A very handsome one. The lady, always the dearest of the Evans girls except Betty, who had earlier married Preacher Wroton, the father of jimmy Wroton of doubtful status in those days. Your father's long, useful and productive years as banker, churchman and citizen deserves only praiseworthy recordings.
Getting back to the Evans tribe, my mother's father David Wesley Evans was the youngest of three brothers, the eldest, whose name escapes me, inherited the family home (John Evans' home), an imposing, typical, white-pillared mansion with a long avenue of trees leading up to it from the Charleston road. As a small boy I remember Mama taking me and others of her brood to see our great-uncle there. He seemed to us to be something of an ogre, for we had to be on our best behavior. With Victor and Jimmy that lasted about ten minutes, for at that age we were curious about refreshments.
Grandfather Evans' home, about three miles from the old family mansion, was, as mentioned, a large place on that part of the plantation willed to him. A big deep (well) supplied water; there were oodles of fruit trees, lots of sycamores for shade, scuppernong grapevines, and other mouth-watering products my tired old bean can't recall. The large horse and mule barns and lots, the hogs, chickens, ducks, guineas, turkeys were all there to satisfy the family's many needs.
One rather significant plantation factor that deeply impressed my boyish mind was Aunt Leah Evans, Grandfathers venerable maiden sister, who was really a sort of mild but ruling czaress. She was totally deaf and, using a long old fashioned trumpet, scared little Jimmy witless when he ventured into her presence. Thought in her early years to be marked for a short life, she actually outlived all of her generation into her late nineties.
Through the loving and adoring heart and eyes of a pint sized grand-son, I recall our grandfather (David Wesley Evans) as a small man, lean and wiry, always busy and cheerful, but with plenty of time to keep in touch with the young. He had the endurance of a deerhound, which saw him through the War between the States under his beloved General Beauregard, for whom my mother was named Elizabeth Beauregard Evans.
I remember grandfather one cold and frosty morning taking me with him to check his partridge traps. They were full of beautiful grown quail. In those far back times, game was an important item of food and there were no laws restricting owners. With great care and gentleness he packed them away in his game bag. But the last one he handed over to me. "Jimmy, hold this little fellow a minute for me." My tiny fists took the creature from him and with a whir and a flash he had his freedom. In flight a mature quail is one of the strongest and speediest of any living thing, size for size.
Uncle Buddy (David Wesley Lee Evans) was my hero. He took me on hunting and fishing jaunts. Sometimes we stayed out all night when we slept under quilts and caught our own supper and breakfast. One morning a lively water moccasin was crawling over my bed. With no fuss at all Uncle Buddy brushed it away. Oh, those were the days! (OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by: Annie Belle Bodie, p.5 - 7, Fragments of the Evans Clan Background)
5. Jimmy Wroton died the day after his 94th birthday on December 26,1977. He was truly a remarkable person. After his mothers death the family moved to the old Wroton home in Denmark, South Carolina. He had a year in school there, then when he was between 16 and 17 years old he got work on the railroad. Though higher education was not available to him he rose to be vice-president of operations of the Norfolk and Southern Railroad. Jimmy not only became successful in business, but he was a polished, lovable gentleman, a delightful conversationalist and, as you have seen, a gifted writer. We are most grateful for his contribution to our Evans Heritage, written eight months before his death. (OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by: Annie Belle Bodie p.7 )
6. It was a mystery to me how my great-grand-father's house could have had a tree liner driveway to the Charleston road, since the site of his house is three or more miles south of the present highway (176) to Charleston. A relative explained it this was: The old road bed, still visible in places, did not run where the road runs now. It was along this original section of the road that the early houses were built and from which John Evans' avenue of trees led to his house.
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1. (Dates from Kelley, Southern Christian Advocate, 19 January 1860)
2. Probably born in Charles Town, SC and most likely buried in the old family cemetery, though there are no markers.
3. "A Tribute to John Evans", by: John W. Kelley
Father John Evans lived to almost four score and ten. He died in his 88th year.
He had been for fifty years a class leader - his official term beginning almost with his membership and terminating last year. For the greater part of this period he was the only leader in a large society. He lived in Orangeberg District, South Carolina, on the State Road, ashore distance from Providence Church, now cypress circuit. His father was an officer commanding a company at Eutaw, and our departed friend often said he heard the roar of cannon during that trying conflict. A few days after the battle his father came home on a furlough, and was shot down in his own yard by a band of a Tories. The son, though but a lad, was only restrained by a Negro from firing upon the murderers. and both were saved by the servants thoughtful prudence. He, however, vowed revenge and for many long years went constantly armed that he might, on the first occasion have vengeance. It so happened that the first opportunity afforded was at a camp-meeting where, as was his custom, he was dispensing a generous hospitality. A stranger was passing - he invited him to eat some melons at his tent, and found in the worn and ill clad stranger, one of his father's murderers. To use his own words "The tiger was in me, my rifle was in my tent, my vow for revenge was recalled, and I remembered 'vengeance is mine - I will repay saith the Lord', and though it cost me a struggle, I gained the victory." He was now a member of the church and a converted man - one renewed in the spirit of his mind - old things had passed away and all things were becoming new - and he thus evidenced what was obvious in after life, that, though naturally quick and resolute, religion exercised an abiding and controlling influence over his judgment and feelings. As was usual then - and no less so now - his earnest and decisive character made him a favorite with itinerant preachers and his house was their welcome retreat. It is a matter of pleasing reflection that this state of things will continue as sons and sons-in-law inherit these with other of his many excellencies. He continued his active habits in church going and visitations among his children and neighbors, till about a week before his death. He was taken ill on the third of October last, and died on the 11th, and, though of firm constitution and having enjoyed general health, yet he suffered much the week before his death. He was rational throughout his illness and spoke clearly and rationally to all about him. As a patriarch he spoke of his departure to his descendants with joy and triumph. He had been fond of hymns and sacred songs. During his last days he often repeated appropriate stanzas. A few moments before he passed away he exclaimed "My God the spring of all my joys, the life of my delights", raised both hands toward, and without scarcely a struggle, expired. I love to recall the happy hours spent with him and his well trained family. Many preachers and their families will trace these lines with sadness and tears, also with gratitude and hope; for he encouraged them in their self-sacrificing labors, and his whole character and his life authorized the expectation of a glorious reunion in heaven. ( A Tribute to John Evans, by: John W. Kelly, Copied from the "Southern Christian Advocate" of January 19, 1860 and included in OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by Annie Belle Bodie.)
4. Not far from the site of John Evans' home is the family cemetery. There are two massive live oaks, draped in gray moss, stand as awesome sentinels guarding the graves. John Evans was most likely buried there, but there is no marker to indicate he is. The dates used in the genealogy are those given in Mr., Kelley's article. (OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by: Annie Belle Bodie, p.4.)
5. Found at Raleigh Archives:
From "S. C. Magazine of Ancestral Research" , Vol.1- St. Matthew 1818 Tax List. Tax Lists are extremely rare among early records of S.C. The importance of this list is that it comes from Orangeburg District where most early records have been lost.
Evans, John - 1945 - 19 (The first number stands for
the number of acres taxable;
The second, for the number
of slaves owned.)
(OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by: Annie Belle Bodie, p.4.)
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1. (Dates from Kelley, Southern Christian Advocate, 19 January 1860)
2. Probably born in Charles Town, SC and most likely buried in the old family cemetery, though there are no markers.
3. "A Tribute to John Evans", by: John W. Kelley
Father John Evans lived to almost four score and ten. He died in his 88th year.
He had been for fifty years a class leader - his official term beginning almost with his membership and terminating last year. For the greater part of this period he was the only leader in a large society. He lived in Orangeberg District, South Carolina, on the State Road, ashore distance from Providence Church, now cypress circuit. His father was an officer commanding a company at Eutaw, and our departed friend often said he heard the roar of cannon during that trying conflict. A few days after the battle his father came home on a furlough, and was shot down in his own yard by a band of a Tories. The son, though but a lad, was only restrained by a Negro from firing upon the murderers. and both were saved by the servants thoughtful prudence. He, however, vowed revenge and for many long years went constantly armed that he might, on the first occasion have vengeance. It so happened that the first opportunity afforded was at a camp-meeting where, as was his custom, he was dispensing a generous hospitality. A stranger was passing - he invited him to eat some melons at his tent, and found in the worn and ill clad stranger, one of his father's murderers. To use his own words "The tiger was in me, my rifle was in my tent, my vow for revenge was recalled, and I remembered 'vengeance is mine - I will repay saith the Lord', and though it cost me a struggle, I gained the victory." He was now a member of the church and a converted man - one renewed in the spirit of his mind - old things had passed away and all things were becoming new - and he thus evidenced what was obvious in after life, that, though naturally quick and resolute, religion exercised an abiding and controlling influence over his judgment and feelings. As was usual then - and no less so now - his earnest and decisive character made him a favorite with itinerant preachers and his house was their welcome retreat. It is a matter of pleasing reflection that this state of things will continue as sons and sons-in-law inherit these with other of his many excellencies. He continued his active habits in church going and visitations among his children and neighbors, till about a week before his death. He was taken ill on the third of October last, and died on the 11th, and, though of firm constitution and having enjoyed general health, yet he suffered much the week before his death. He was rational throughout his illness and spoke clearly and rationally to all about him. As a patriarch he spoke of his departure to his descendants with joy and triumph. He had been fond of hymns and sacred songs. During his last days he often repeated appropriate stanzas. A few moments before he passed away he exclaimed "My God the spring of all my joys, the life of my delights", raised both hands toward, and without scarcely a struggle, expired. I love to recall the happy hours spent with him and his well trained family. Many preachers and their families will trace these lines with sadness and tears, also with gratitude and hope; for he encouraged them in their self-sacrificing labors, and his whole character and his life authorized the expectation of a glorious reunion in heaven. ( A Tribute to John Evans, by: John W. Kelly, Copied from the "Southern Christian Advocate" of January 19, 1860 and included in OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by Annie Belle Bodie.)
4. Not far from the site of John Evans' home is the family cemetery. There are two massive live oaks, draped in gray moss, stand as awesome sentinels guarding the graves. John Evans was most likely buried there, but there is no marker to indicate he is. The dates used in the genealogy are those given in Mr., Kelley's article. (OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by: Annie Belle Bodie, p.4.)
5. Found at Raleigh Archives:
From "S. C. Magazine of Ancestral Research" , Vol.1- St. Matthew 1818 Tax List. Tax Lists are extremely rare among early records of S.C. The importance of this list is that it comes from Orangeburg District where most early records have been lost.
Evans, John - 1945 - 19 (The first number stands for
the number of acres taxable;
The second, for the number
of slaves owned.)
(OUR EVANS HERITAGE, 1979, by: Annie Belle Bodie, p.4.)
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