# My Life Is an Open Book (Hancock)/Chapter 2

From the time I left Uncle Fleming's till the time I went to Beck's to live I knew but little of kind treatment. I was abused, insomuch that I was inspired with a degree of diffidence I will never overcome. Mr. Beck would speak kindly and endeavored to inspire me with lofty motives, and holy ambition. For the first year they were to clothe me, send me to school three months, and give me twenty dollars.
Mr. Beck bought a fine young mare and told me she was mine to care for and ride so long as I should live with them. Aunt Sallie bought cloth and made me a nice suit of clothes. I could now go to meeting and hold my head up. By mid-summer I was a member of the Baptist church and had no thought but that Becks would be my home through my youth. I was, in this, however, doomed to disappointment. William Beck, a brother to the preacher, but more demon than man, bought an interest in the farm and moved into the house. Not only did the boy have to get out, but also grandma and aunt had to hunt a home elsewhere. He compromised with me by giving me $17.
I had never been to school, but now determined to spend my money in school. I went to Wayne county and attended a subscription school three months. There I learned something of spelling, reading and writing. I then went to Russell county to live with a Mr. Leverage. I stayed there but a few weeks, and then went to Creelsboro, where I stayed nearly a year, working in a saddle shop and clerking in a dry goods store. Creelsboro ​was a hard place and my home was with a hard family. The fall that I was there the typhoid fever raged, and I was one of the victims. When I had to take the bed I was placed in a small room, without ventilation or screens, but an abundance of flies. I had no nurse, but had to care for myself. There were none, except the doctor, that seemed to care whether I lived or died— all predicted that I would die. The doctor had sixty-two cases on his hands, and could only get around about once in every forty-eight hours. I had to wait on myself. All the assistance I would get, a cup of water and my medicine would be placed on a table where I could reach it.
Sometimes I could recollect to take medicine as directed, sometimes I could not. Upon one occasion the doctor having left I undertook to take the first dose as directed. I reached for the cup of water, I was too feeble to raise up, my hand gave way and the water was tilled into the vessel where my medicine was, and all was spoiled. I did without till the doctor's return. I was then in a critical condition and the doctor now realized how sadly I was neglected. He went into an adjoining room where the woman of the house was and gave her a sound cursing. I would doze, the flies would get into my mouth, I would wake up and take them out. Say what you please, you fatalist, but I shall ever hold that in answer to my father's dying prayer I was providentially kept through such periods in my childhood.
I remained in Creelsboro until the following spring; I then went across the river to Clinton county and worked as a hand for Frank Irwin at $8 per month. When crops were made I had money enough to meet the expenses of my sickness in Creelsboro.
I then determined to learn the saddle and harness trade. With this in view I went to Monticello and made an agreement with James Warden, the saddle and harness man of that town. I was to work the first year for my victuals and clothes. I had not been there long till thoughts of the future passed through my mind. I soliloquized as follows: "I am now seventeen years old; the responsibilities of manhood will soon be upon me. For such I am not prepared; this will never do. I must go to school." I had no money, and but few clothes. A ten months school had just opened in Stockton Valley. I sent a note to the principal and gave him my condition, and told him I wanted to go to school. He wrote to me immediately, urging me to enter his school and agreeing to be surety for my board and tuition. I determined to go. Mr. and Mrs. Warden tried to dissuade me from that conclusion. I was, however, determined and was soon in school.
I missed three weeks of the first five months of school, which ended the last of December. By request of the patrons a vacation of six weeks was given, that the severest of winter might pass before the last session opened. I went to Creelsboro and proposed to the saddler there that I would make saddles on the halves if he would furnish the material. To this he agreed. I had to miss one week of school to ​complete the saddles that I had commenced. I was in school promptly the second week; and had saddles enough to pay board and tuition for the entire school.
When the last term ended I had gotten through with spelling, reading, arithmetic, English grammar, geography, composition, philosophy and astronomy. I then engaged to teach a four months' school twelve miles from Albany, on the breaks of the Cumberland. They had never seen a blackboard in that part. In agreeing to teach their school I had stipulated with the directors that a blackboard should be furnished, and the school should be conducted according to the most improved methods. Of this they soon repented. They objected to the blackboard, to the silent method in school, to classing the students, and to drilling in the art of spelling and reading. They said their children knew nothing about these things. They had been used to the students saying their lessons one at a time, and had been used to the children all spelling and reading out, so that they could be heard at least a quarter of a mile. One director could see the improvement and stood by me. The other two tried to stop the school. We taught the school. We then entered school at Albany. We had not, however, been there but one month when we determined to go to California with some young men that were going from that place.
Having determined to go to California I sold my interest in the old homestead, by giving security for a deed, when I should become of age, and arranged to start. We were to go to New York and ship from there to San Francisco. That trip could be made one month quicker than the trip that way we had to start by a certain date. We were to start on Monday, but on Sunday the two young men that I was to go with came to town and informed me that their parents were not willing for them to start that month, and consequently the time for starting would be postponed one month. I determined to spend that month visiting, so next morning I started for Tennessee. I had not been gone long till those young men came after me. Their parents had consented for them to start. They could not wait and make the necessary connection, so I was left. I had said, however, that I was going to California, and when I said a thing, even in my youthful days, I generally meant it.
I had longed to see some of the great West, hence I determined to go to Independence, Mo., and go across into California with a freight or emigrant train. A young man, my senior by some years, wanted to go with me. He had no money, but had been to Missouri. I doubted the propriety of accepting him as a traveling companion. Surrendering, however, to the judgment of an older brother, I consented to take him with me, bear his expenses and wait till he could refund the money. On January 18, 1858, we left Albany. We went to Nashville, Tenn., designing to go from there to Cairo, Ill., by water. There we had to wait three or four days for a boat.
We went to Grishan and Huffaker's wholesale grocery store. Mr. Huffaker was a brother to our oldest brother's wife. He went with us to a boarding house, told the proprietor to take good care of us till we could get passage down the river. I was now eighteen years old.
​I was determined to live a virtuous life. We took, while in Nashville, extensive walks, that we might see the different parts of the city. Having taken an extensive walk one evening after supper we were returning, my companion halted in front of what appeared to me a doubtful house, and said to me, "Let's go in here and see some fun." There was considerable merriment within. I assured him that I would not. He then said, "You go to our room and I will come after awhile." I then turned to him and firmly said "Jim, you can do as you please. You are older than I am, but I want it distinctly understood that if you go into that house you have traveled your last mile at my expense." He knew that I meant just what I said, and so went with me to our room.
The time came for our boat to start; Mr. Huffaker came, settled our board bill, accompanied us to the boat, and bade us farewell. The trip to Cairo was a lonesome one. From Cairo we traveled to St. Louis by railroad. From St. Louis we went to Jefferson City. There we expected to get boat passage to Independence. A boat was expected to start on that trip soon, but not being able to get any satisfaction as to when, we determined to go to Boonville by stage. Before reaching Cairo we had formed the acquaintance of a gentleman bound for the vicinity of Independence. As we judged upon first acquaintance he proved to be a pleasant and safe companion.
It was after sunset when the stage left Jefferson City. The nights were dark, and it was cold winter weather. I did not like appearances. So I told my companions that I would not get inside of that stage, but would sit with the driver. The stage was heavily loaded with mail and I watched him closely. Soon he drove onto a place where the vehicle tilted. At the proper time I made a spring and landed safely on my feet. I heard a faint cry from within for help. The baggage was smothering my Kentucky companion. By the time the driver had adjusted his team I, by an extra effort, had extricated my two companions. They were somewhat frightened, but nobody was hurt. We took our valises and told the driver he could go on. We had a dark, muddy walk for some miles before we got to where we could find a place to rest.
When we reached Boonville we telegraphed to Jefferson City to know if any boat was between there and Boonville destined for St. Joseph. The answer came, No. We then started for Glassgow, reaching that place in the evening we stopped for the night. Early next morning the boat we had been expecting landed at Glassgow. We went aboard and asked the price of a ticket to our destined point. "Twenty dollars," was the answer. I told the --------- that was the price from Jefferson City. He said it was the same from there. I told my companions that I could walk it for less than that. We had between two and three months to spend somewhere before time for starting across the planes, and my Kentucky friend having spent some time, on a previous trip, in Putnam Co., Mo., he proposed that we go there to spend the time till spring opened. To this we consented. We went to Unionville, via Bloomington and Kirksville. In Putnam county we found several with whom we had been acquainted in Kentucky. We had been there but a few days when Jim informed me that he had determined not to go ​any further toward California that year. His excuse was that the Mormon war being on hand the trip would be a hazardous one. We regretted to be again baffled, but he having spent about fifty dollars of our money we determined to postpone our trip one year and get our money back.
Jim engaged to teach a school in the country. We applied for the school in Unionville. Being a mere boy and a stranger the directors paid but little attention to us. We had about concluded that our application was in vain. Having called one day to see a Mr. Bradshaw, one of the directors, and getting but little encouragement we concluded to go into the country and try to get a school. We stepped into the store of Davis & Simpson, leading dry goods merchants. Some one called our name, an elderly gentleman arose and called for the man of that name. Learning that I was a son of Uncle Ben, of Wayne County, Kentucky, he spoke of my parents to those present, and gave the family such a recommendation that Mr. Davis went immediately to see the directors. Mr. Bradshaw came immediately and told me that I could have the school.