Civil War Articles by Julian WilliamsIt's A Wonder John Willcox, Jr. Ever Made It To Georgia!
This article was compiled by Julian Williams.
An earlier article mentioned that Benjamin Franklin had frequented a tavern on his way to visit the Willcoxes at their papermill. The Franklins lived in Philadelphia and the Willcoxes lived at Ivy Mills, a short distance away.
The tavern in colonial days was a place of many activities. Eating and drinking were not the only things going but "the spirits" seemed to get more than their share of the advertising:
"I, William McDermott, lives here, I sells good porter, ale and beer; I've made my sign a little wider; To let you know I sell good cider."
In actuality, though, the tavern was much more than the town watering hole - it became an important meeting place for the men in the Age of Enlightenment. Benjamin Franklin, a friend of Thomas Willcox, probably "discussed" many current topics with his neighbors in one or more of Philadelphia's pubs. Being a printer, philosopher, scientist, and inventor, Old Ben knew things were changing - and changing in a hurry. Sometimes the discussions got so hot the tavern would burn - literally.
Whether the Willcoxes heard it at the tavern or at their busy papermill, we may never know. But they also knew times were changing. Times were dangerous those days and one had to keep his wits about himself to survive. As Old Ben had said, "We must indeed all hang together, or, most assuredly, we shall all hang separately." Not a very comforting possibility, or worse yet, probability.
His young friend, John Willcox, who left Ivy Mills for Deep River, Gulf, North Carolina, was about to become a number-one classic guinea pig illustration (almost) of Dr. Franklin's astute observation.
For, waiting in the wings in North Carolina, were Governor Tryon and his boys, agents of the King of England. And certain things John Willcox did turned those fellows against him in a most pronounced and nasty way. Like making cannon balls to shoot at them and stirring up the settlers so they would drag the King's men out of the taverns by their heel strings and double-dog dare them to raise the ridiculous taxes any higher! Obviously, to John, the time had come for action against these tyrants.
Evidently, John Willcox had agreed with old preacher Witherspoon back in Philadelphia when the reverend told a cautious colleague, who had said that the time was not ripe for revolt, "In my judgment, sir, we are not only ripe but rotting." John didn't want to run the risk of rotting and since he made iron for a living (that's where the cannon balls came from), he knew "when the iron is hot, it is time to strike." Strike he did, to the extent Governor Tryon rounded up a bunch of Regulators, John declared one of the worst among them; he was labeled an "outlaw" by the British. And he liked to have been hanged. Six men were and John was under the gallows sweating it out. But Fate and the Lord apparently were on his side and he side-stepped the following sentence read by the redcoat judge:
"I must now close my afflicting Duty, by pronouncing upon you the awful Sentence of the Law; which is, that you... be carried to the place from whence you came, that you be drawn from thence to the Place of Execution, where you are to be hanged by the Neck; that you be cut down while yet alive, that your Bowels be taken out and burnt before your Face, that your Head be cut off, your Body divided into Four Quarters, and this to be at his Majesty's Disposal; and the Lord have Mercy on your Soul."
It was explained by the recorder of that bit of text that they really didn't carry out the full sentence - that hadn't been employed by the English courts in years - they just hanged them! If mercy was not right up there at the top of the list, Governor Tryon did prevail with the King to let the families of the dead men retain their property! What was left of it, that is; they burned John's iron works and did away with all the stuff cannon balls are made of. But, at least he was alive.
So, about the time Ben Franklin was inventing the lightning rod, John Willcox was becoming one. And amongst all this activity, he fathered eight children, John, Jr. being one of them.
And, in 1793, just three years after Ben Franklin put up his epitaph, John Willcox went to sleep with his fathers. I don't know what was written on his grave, but his friend, Ben Franklin had this interesting epitaph:
"The body of Benjamin Franklin, printer,
(Like the cover of an old book,
Its contents worn out,
And stript of its lettering and gilding)
Lies here, food for worms!
Yet the work itself shall not be lost,
For it will, as he believed,
Appear once more
In a new
And more beautiful edition,
Corrected and amended
By its Author!"
----- Benjamin Franklin
Obviously, about everyone had some kind of epitaph - a squirrel, one of Ben's friend's pets - had expired and the grieving owner had composed this:
"Here Skugg
Lie snug
As a bug
In a rug."
We probably wouldn't know that bit of history had not a Willcox, W.B. Willcox, writer, recorded it from some of the papers of Benjamin Franklin.
But, on a more serious note, things were changing and often for the bad. Later, up at Ivy Mills, the following news is given us:
"During the anti-Catholic riots in Philadelphia in 1844, the life of the then Bishop Kenrick was in danger. His friends advised him to remove from the city. One night, about twelve o'clock, a man (apparently a Quaker) aroused the family of James M. Willcox, at Ivy Mills, and applied for admission. It proved to be Bishop Kenrick, who, disguised as a Quaker, sought refuge there, in company with one or more priests, also disguised. They were, of course, cordially welcomed. The so-called Native Americans, having learned that several priests had taken refuge in the house of Mr. Willcox, sent an anonymous letter to him, threatening to burn his barn unless he sent the priests away. But he took no notice of the letter, except to keep men on guard at the barn until the threatened danger was past."
But Little John Willcox (John, Jr.) had gotten his fill of looking out at night to see if his father's saddle had his father in it; he had heard enough of things like royal hangings and tavern burnings and barn fires. He was heading for Georgia. And hoped it would get better. It didn't.
Credits:
Telfair History Book, 1807-1987;
Willcox Family History by Martha Albertson;
Ivy Mills/Willcox articles by Arden Skidmore;
John Willcox's Iron Enterprises by George Willcox;
info furnished by Gertrude Wilcox Williams and Diane Williams Rogers and others;
Ivy Mills by Joseph Willcox;
various other sources.
