John Johnson Spencer

Audrey: I only know that he was at Libby Prison and I am sure he was there. I never talked with my grandfather. He was an old man with a long gray beard. Ed (John Edward Spencer), my brother, would talk with him. I was quiet. I was busy with art, my own privacy. I don’t remember speaking with Aunt Mandy (Esther Amanda Briggs) and she lived with us. Grandma (MaryJane Vaughn Spencer) and aunt Mandy were great at cutting articles out of newspapers. They would cut out articles about kings and queens, etc. I remember a snuffbox —snuff up the nose was a habit. All rich people had a diamond snuffbox, which was just the thing. Aunt Mandy, she had dates in a bag.

(The obituary in the newspaper does not seem to be correct.  Georgia National Park at Andersonville has no record of a John Johnson Spencer at Andersonville confederate prison.   We know he was at Libby Prison and at Belle Isle prison in Richmond, Virginia. He was in the battles that were around Pennsylvania and Virginia.  Spencer family oral history has him going no further south and we find have no other records of him going further south.)

Audrey: I remember Ruth Rose, who lived in the little house on the corner of Middle Road, said that when the weather was cold and they didn’t have enough blankets, they would cover up with rugs from the floor. Those rugs were braided rugs made from old cloth cut up in strips and rolled into rags. Women would cut the cloth and roll the cloth together with strings and then braid the cloth into a rug.

William J.B. Spencer and Audrey Mae Spencer

Audrey: There was much more snow then. I could walk over the five-foot fence and not sink in as the snow was frozen. I could walk over the fence!!

We would get a snowstorm and I was always sick in bed with the croup. I would lie in bed and look out this nice big window by my bed. I’d keep watching for grass. Mother (MaryJane [née Vaughn] Spencer) would shake out the tablecloth on the snow. I would watch the birds come picking up crumbs that were dropped on the snow.

When I was a child, a sled as wide as the street was hitched to a couple of big horses. This sled swept the road of the snow. We used to have five feet snow storms! The people would be out plowing the road the minute the snow started until the snow stopped. Without plowing the roads, the snow on the road would have frozen and no one could even get out of their yard. Everybody got up and plowed their own driveway and then the road. If they wanted to get anywhere, they had to help plow the road.

The mailman came with horse and wagon. The buggy had a little top to keep you from getting wet or you could open it to get the sun (like a doll carriage-canvas to open it up or fold it over back). The mailman came by every day when I was little. My job was to go to the mailbox and get the mail. I was small and didn’t know enough to read.

I played with little stones by the house. I made a little fence and made a stove with stones. I would stand there and pack the stones and play for hours with the stones. I was always out in the yard, but I never went near the road.

The road was for the mailman and mail wagon.

Clara Tarbox would go by. They went down to the Village (Arctic) every day to get groceries or something.

Mother and I went down to Arctic every week to get groceries. Arctic used to be a nice place. Then a lot of hoodlums hung out in Arctic. You had to look out for yourself in your wagon. Mother would say “You stay right close to me now”.

Mother would go catch a horse, hitch the horse to the wagon and drive to Arctic. That was quite a job to go out in the yard and call “Prince”. Prince would come right away. Prince was afraid of hay loads. We tried to keep him away from hay loads. He was the only horse that was afraid of hay loads. When we got to Arctic, Mother would get out and put reins around the hitching post.

I would hang on to my mother’s clothes. Mother would go into the Bedards store. There was one little aisle or hall where I could see two little old ladies there. Mother always sat there and talked with them for a while. I sat there. I was quiet.

Audrey: Samuel Davis, he got killed the minute he went out! That was so tragic!

(Samuel Davis took our ancestor’s place in the American Revolution.  John Spencer was needed on the farm when his father and his older brother died of smallpox in the fall of 1777.  John’s mother sold some of the land to pay for a substitute, Samuel Davis, to take John’s place in the War. Samuel was never heard from again.  John’s son, Richard Anthony (“Deacon”) Spencer bought back the land many years later.)

Audrey: Yes, getting around Arctic was like a jig saw puzzle. The Indians path (became) the cow path (and then) were widened to form the street. The Indians and then the cows went the simple and flat way. They didn’t go over rocks and hills.

Audrey: I don’t know for sure. There was a story about climbing a tree and one fell. I do not know for sure.^*

^{* Richard Anthony Spencer, Anna Maria’s father, died in New York on 5-27-1845, so more than likely Audrey’s comment on falling from tree refers to someone else.}

Audrey: It is a beautiful day today out here. It is nice and warm. Doug visited and he looks good. He and Vaughn are going (to Nova Scotia) because Doug is looking up the geneology of the MacDonalds. Of course, we had aunt Mandy write all about the Spencers before she died.

Audrey: I don’t know how old she was when she started or whether someone before her had started this. I know she kept it going.

Audrey: Yes, Mother took care of a lot of persons. She took care of Grandpa’s mother, Anna Maria, (when Anna Maria was aging.) Anna Maria had (a medical condition) where liquid would run off her legs because of all the years she stood in front of that hot old fashion stove, cooking and canning every summer. She would can every summer all summer. She would can all of the crops that Richard grew in the garden and send them all to Richard.  …  and Grandma (Mary Jane [née Vaughn] Spencer) bandaged Anna Maria’s (pronounced Mar-eye-ah’s) legs daily and took care of her.

He had a beard. He was all right.  I didn’t talk with him.  (In those days) “Children should be seen but not heard.”