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Updated: May 21, 2025
The conviction was growing in me that, as my native state was about to be invaded, I must have a place in the ranks of her defenders. I was influenced by speeches delivered by Governor Floyd, Professor Holcombe, and Dr. Bledsoe, and still more by the contagious example of my roommate, William H. Chapman, who had gone with a company of students to Harper's Ferry, and had returned.
She had seen the shoestring creek bottoms between the endless mountains among which she was born and bred, the high-hung, cup-like depressions of their inner fastnesses; she was used to the cool, clear, boulder-checked mountain creeks that fight their way down those steeps like an armed man beating off assailants at every turn; she had been taken a number of times to Bledsoe, the tiny settlement at the foot of Unaka Old Bald, where there were two stores, a blacksmith shop, the post-office and the church.
Memory brought before me the smiling features of Harry Herndon, my life-long friend and comrade, the handsome face of Jack Bledsoe, one of our college mates from Missouri, and the beautiful countenance of his sister, Katherine Bledsoe. These and a hundred other faces came crowding from the past, and the story was told almost before I knew it.
I was angry, though I knew that she meant not a word she said. "Does Mrs. Bledsoe indulge in that habit?" I asked. "Habit? I said custom. Mrs. Bledsoe is a changed woman since she has lived among people who know something of the world and its ways, and who are not slave-drivers." "I believe this is Miss Jane Ryder," I said.
Then the Yankee dealers begun to fotch 'em in an' sell 'em at Lexin'ton an' Louisville an' Limestone. Rube an' Dink wuz the fust I owned bought 'em o' ole Jake Bledsoe in the spring o' '87. Now I own nigh on to twenty darkeys, big an' little. The place is fairly runnin' ovah with the lazy imps, an' it keeps me an' Cynthy Ann on the tight jump frum sun-up tell dark lookin' aftah 'em."
* With Andrew Lewis on this day were Isaac Shelby and William Campbell, the victorious leaders at King's Mountain, James Robertson, the "father of Tennessee," Valentine Sevier, Daniel Morgan, hero of the Cowpens, Major Arthur Campbell, Benjamin Logan, Anthony Bledsoe, and Simon Kenton.
"It was an easy matter to carry out the commandment in this particular instance, for, with the exception of this gentleman here" indicating me "Jack Bledsoe is the dearest friend I ever had." "I know you well enough," the lady remarked with a smile. "You are Harry Herndon, and your friend there is Carroll Shannon, and the negro is Whistling Jim.
Melissa lives with her daughter, Nany Hardie, in a neat bungalow on the Sharon Line, a Negro district. Melissa's health is good with the exception of cataracts over her eyes which have caused her to be totally blind. Ohio Guide Ex-Slave Stories Aug 15, 1937 SUSAN BLEDSOE 462-12th St. S.E., Canton, Ohio.
He thought of Nan Ferguson, and of the hope he lead expressed of finding some one in Dalton Street. "I have been considering the matter," Mr. Bentley said. "I have a friend who lives on the trolley line a little beyond the hospital, a widow. It is like the country there, you know, and I think Mrs. Bledsoe could be induced to take the Garvins. And then something can be arranged for him.
"Well, don't make any secret of it," said I. "Out with it!" exclaimed Harry. "Marse Harry, I done gone an' shot Marse Jack Bledsoe." "Good Lord!" cried Harry. "Yasser, I done shot 'im, an' he's bad hurt, too. You know dat las' time we went at um? Well, suh, I wuz shootin' at a man right at me, an' he knock my han' down des ez I pull de trigger, an' de ball cotch him right 'twix de hip an' de knee.
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