# My Life Is an Open Book (Hancock)/Chapter 1

Under the above caption, though borrowed, we purpose for the benefit of others giving something of our own life. We do not design in the common acceptation an autobiography.
Biographies of noted and worthy men, men that have been properly considered benefactors, when properly written, are among the most interesting and profitable of uninspired books. We do not propose that our sketches shall ever appear in book form, and the conclusion that we write with the idea that we deserve to rank among the class mentioned above does us great injustice. Yet, as we ever write with the motto before our mind, "He who writes for the public eye should write for the public good," we certainly conclude that in some respects these sketches will be beneficial, otherwise they would not appear.
My father, Benjamin Hancock, was born in North Carolina, near the Virginia line, in the year 1778. (As the old family record was lost during the late war we cannot give many dates.) He was the son of Benjamin Hancock, a brother, as we learned from an old uncle on my mother's side, of John Hancock, whose name stands at the head of the list of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. My grandfather was a soldier through the entire war of the revolution. At an early date he moved to what was known as the New Purchase of Kentucky. As land was not valuable convenience was the main item in selecting a location, they settled on Gap Creek, Wayne county. He was the second settler in that part, a family by the name of Stockton having preceded him. Here game, timber, water, and Indians were plentiful, but they had to go one hundred miles to get their grinding. At the age of forty-two years my father was married to Elizabeth Vickrey. To them ten children were born, six sons and four daughters. Three of the daughters died in early childhood. June 7th, 1839, the writer of these lines was born.
In some respects our father was an eccentric man. In naming his sons this appeared. The first son was christened, Jessee Emsly John Vickrey Hancock, the second, William Luther Martin Daniel, the third, Benjamin Francis Henry Tuggle, the fourth James Calvin Delay, the fifth George Berry Dandridge Cruz, and the writer, Leland Golmon Buford Kimbrel. Our oldest brother died when we were but a child. Except the third the others, for the sake of convenience, just kept two of their initials.
At an early date my father erected a water mill on his farm, which did the grinding or most of it for the neighborhood. He was a farmer, a miller, a justice of the peace, and a Baptist preacher. He never attained to notoriety as a preacher, but was a man of considerable influence and after ceased to be a J.P. when a difference would arise in the neighborhood all appeared to be willing to leave it to Uncle Ben, as he was familiarly known. He had no concern so far as the goods of this world were concerned beyond a reasonable supply of food and raiment. ​He was a friend to the poor, the widow and orphan. He raised four orphans and looked to the extent of his ability after objects of charity. I heard in my childhood how many such objects have died in his house, but do not now remember. We will know after awhile when the books are opened.
My father inherited the old homestead. The house was a hewed log house, covered with chestnut shingles, covered when nails were not to be had. The shingles were pinned to the laths. When not quite four years old my mother died, leaving a girl baby, something over a year old, the only girl in the family. Our father had to tend his mill, superintend the farm, and attend his meetings; neighbor women were kind, but we were a family of neglected ones. My oldest brother had gone into the tanning business, and was looking after a wife. It was a good farmer in those days that could afford biscuit for breakfast Sunday mornings. Uncle John Hicks came nearer doing so than most men in that part. Uncle John had a grown daughter, and brother often went to the Hicks' residence. And we were always rejoiced when we could think brother had gone to see Miss Hicks; for she would fill his coat pockets with biscuits for us children. And now if I should at any place where I stop to hold a meeting find a family that could make biscuit that would taste half as well as those did I certainly would make that my home while in those parts. Brother married a Miss Huffaker, but in a little over a year they were both laid in the Arter Creek cemetery.
Before I reached my thirteenth birthday father was called to go. he called me his boy baby. He was old and feeble, and was only sick about nine days. In the evening before he died at night he was helped from his lips to the stream of cold water and seated, and wet his mouth. He then fixed his eyes upon me, and with an effort that called for all his strength he prayed for the blessing of God to rest upon his boy. These were his last words. We were then a broken family. The third brother took charge of the little girl, the boys each had to care for himself. If children who have a home and kind parents that they fail to appreciate could only spend a few months as we spent the next few years, it would perhaps be a good schooling.
After the death of my father I went first to live with an aunt on my mother's side. This was a mistake, not that I could have gone into a nicer family than Doctor Fleming's. Kinder old folks, or nicer children I could not have been with. Aunt was one of the nicest hands in that country to make cloth. Father kept sheep and raised flax, and had cloth made twice a year. He would have jeans enough made in the fall to make the boys each two pair of pants and a hunting shirt. In the spring he would have tow and flax cloth made. Each of the boys would get two pair of tow pants. The larger boys that were wanting to get out into society would get a flax pair for Sunday use. Some times there would be sufficient flax scraps to make the "boy baby" a pair of pants. When such was the case there would be one cheerful heart in that family. When the cloth would be ready the women of the neighborhood would come, en mass, cut and make the garments. Upon one occasion, a woman that did not understand her business as she might have done was given the task of cutting and making my flax pants. She missed it so far in cutting that when they were done I could not get into them. I was ​always of a forgiving disposition, but I am not conscious at the present time that I ever did forgive that woman. Father had to economise, so the jeans cloth would be bark colored. Aunt Fleming would make blue mixed jeans. She not only made blue mixed of a fine quality, but for her boys a Sunday suit she would mix in Turkey red enough to give an extra appearance. It was winter time when I went to live with that family. Aunt gave me a nice fitting suit of her extra jeans. Well, Joseph may have thought as much of his coat of divers colors, but I am sure he did not think any more of his coat than I did of my suit. And now, if I could have a suit of as nice jeans as that was you preachers could have your Prince Albert, and welcome.
My father was a very indulgent parent. Except when I had to stay with little sister I was my father's constant companion. After Creek Baptist meeting house was built on Father's land, Gap Creek was between our residence and the meeting house. Father was old and tottery. In crossing the creek and in climbing the hill upon which the meeting house stood he would brace himself on his right side with his cane and on the other by resting his left hand on my shoulder. Whenever I was with him I was a happy boy, whether on the road, the farm or about the little water mill. After his death I missed his kind counsel, his words of encouragement, and above all his caressing love. I longed to be the object of some one's affection and tender care. Uncle and Aunt Fleming were kind, but they had a large family of children, and boys near my size, that made me feel that I was the one too many, there was no room. Spring opened, I longed for home. My oldest living brother had married and lived at the old home. I went back with the idea of living there, but it was no longer home. I went to live with a cousin by marriage, I was taken sick and they sent me back to my brother's to be cared for.
When I had sufficiently recovered I went into an adjoining county to live with a second cousin by marriage. They were inclined to be tyrannical. While there I determined to become a Christian, but was prevented. Although but fourteen years of age I was decidedly of a religious turn of mind. I worked there about three months for which they gave me two shirts made of common domestic. A few miles from there, in what was known as Caney Gap, lived an aged widow by the name of Beck. She and a daughter, about 35 years old lived alone, except what time F. E. Beck, a grandson, and a Baptist preacher, stayed with them. They wanted a boy to stay with them. Hearing of me, and being well acquainted with Father, as he was one of their kind of preachers, they concluded I was the boy they wanted. While we were at work one evening a finely dressed, fine looking man, with a very pleasant expression, and riding one of the finest horses I had ever seen rode to where we were and asked if that was Mr. _____. He introduced himself and inquired if I was the Hancook boy that was living there. He then made his errand known. He could see that he was not thanked for that visit. He took in the situation and said, "My grandmother and aunt need some boy to stay with them, and if we can get such a boy we are able and willing to do a good part by him." Turning to me he said, "Please let me know your decision soon." My decision was then made, but I dare not let it be known. ​In a day or two I said to Mr. _____, "I had better go to Mr. Beck's and let him know my decision, as I promised." This was not met with approval but as he was in some respects --------- he could not object to me filling my promise. He asked if I wished to ride. I told him I would walk to Beck's that evening and back next morning. I was back next morning but not afoot.
I dreaded that trip, but thought I could behave myself nice enough to escape a castigation. I went into the house and told the lady I wanted my clothes. She handed them to me. Mr. _____ was present, but did not speak to me. I saw that he wanted a chance to give us a piece of his mind. That chance he did not get. A few days at the widow Beck's convinced me that my fondest hopes were to be realized. I had found the place I had been looking for ever since my father's death. I was where I could be somebody's boy. Grandma and Aunt Sallie were kind as heart could wish, and F. E. was a gentleman. He was, of course preaching under the commission as recorded in the tenth chapter of Matthew. A man that lived twenty-five miles from there was owing Mr. Beck some money. He happened to be in a neighborhood where Mr. Beck was holding a meeting. He called and offered to pay it, but Mr. Beck refused, saying that when preaching the Savior forbade him taking purse or script. The man had to wait till he could see Mr. Beck when he was not engaged in a meeting to pay that money.