By J.M. Hamlin
Capt. Henry Lyon was a gentleman; there was nothing mean, groveling or little about him. He had almost complete self-control save on the better side of himself. Because he possessed slaves and money and because he could not resist the importunities of friends for his endorsement in their financial ventures and because of their failures, sat him down on a small homestead on the French Broad River where Mr. A.H. Gillespie now lives. He lost the magnificent farm recently bequeathed to the Thomasville Orphanage by the Misses Galloway. He saw his property glide away from under his hand but instead of losing himself in despair, he set out in the decline of life to regain some of the loss. Being of a mechanical turn of mind he took himself to furniture making. He soon saw that wagon building might be remunerative and added that to his business.
It is said up to about this time there were perhaps less than a half dozen wagons in this broad land. Isaac Glazener had a wagon which he kept well housed and having a number of industrious daughters, they spun and wove a heavy covering which was spread over for additional preservation. Geo. Washington Galloway owned a wagon. Having made a large land purchase, he sold his to John Owen of Gloucester. There was not even a cart-way from the “settlement” to Gloucester, so Owen moved his wagon piece by piece and when collected did good farm service. Samuel King, who owned all the land from Woods to Hunter’s and up to the creek to Dr. English’s, owned a four-horse wagon. Capt. Lyon foreseeing the opening, succeeded in supplying the country.
In those days the country was largely self-reliant—Lyons supplied wagons, Gillespie sporting rifles, Jimmie Neil, hats; Jimmie Siniard, barshare plows—a crude turner having an iron bar and a turf-board. Phelta Lance made pewter buttons, spoons and plate. I was present one winter morning when she drew out coals on the hearth, set her plate of cold meat and gravy to warm and melt for breakfast, as she lived alone in an adjoining room to our house. She turned away to do some little errand and forgot the situation behind, but bethinking herself of what might be, she rushed to the scene to find her plate a puddle of melted metal.
Capt. Lyon resided 12 miles from the city of Washington on the Maryland side. From this point soon after the funding of the national capital, he set his face southward and westward finally finding himself in the Western wilds of Buncombe on the lands as above stated. He died about the middle of the last century. Three sons and a daughter survived him. Through some of his descendants in this county have reached to great-great grand children, but no one bears his name. I feel it a privilege to tell the readers of The News that such a gentleman once lived and adorned the society of our progenitors. Many good men’s names have been tarnished by misdeeds of one or more descendants, but down to the fifth generation of this good man’s children not a male or female, to the knowledge of hearing of this writer has occurred. He seems to have bequeathed the better part of himself to heirs following to have and to hold forever. I refer you to L.C. Lynch, a representative of the fourth generation. Isn’t he a pretty clever fellow? What’s wrong with Lee? I know of none with Lyons blood, worse perchance, few better. Of course he is too far removed to be expected to come up to the original model; however, sometimes freaks in nature occur.
From the front page of The Brevard News, June 9, 1921 By J.M. Hamlin Capt. Henry Lyon was a gentleman; there was nothing mean, groveling or little about him. He had almost complete self-control save on the better side of himself. Because he possessed slaves and money and because he could not resist the importunities of friends for his endorsement in their financial ventures and because of their failures, sat him down on a small homestead on the French Broad River where Mr. A.H. Gillespie now lives. He lost the magnificent farm recently bequeathed to the Thomasville Orphanage by the Misses Galloway. He saw his property glide away from under his hand but instead of losing himself in despair, he set out in the decline of life to regain some of the loss. Being of a mechanical turn of mind he took himself to furniture making. He soon saw that wagon building might be remunerative and added that to his business. It is said up to about this time there were perhaps less than a half dozen wagons in this broad land. Isaac Glazener had a wagon which he kept well housed and having a number of industrious daughters, they spun and wove a heavy covering which was spread over for additional preservation. Geo. Washington Galloway owned a wagon. Having made a large land purchase, he sold his to John Owen of Gloucester. There was not even a cart-way from the “settlement” to Gloucester, so Owen moved his wagon piece by piece and when collected did good farm service. Samuel King, who owned all the land from Woods to Hunter’s and up to the creek to Dr. English’s, owned a four-horse wagon. Capt. Lyon foreseeing the opening, succeeded in supplying the country. In those days the country was largely self-reliant—Lyons supplied wagons, Gillespie sporting rifles, Jimmie Neil, hats; Jimmie Siniard, barshare plows—a crude turner having an iron bar and a turf-board. Phelta Lance made pewter buttons, spoons and plate. I was present one winter morning when she drew out coals on the hearth, set her plate of cold meat and gravy to warm and melt for breakfast, as she lived alone in an adjoining room to our house. She turned away to do some little errand and forgot the situation behind, but bethinking herself of what might be, she rushed to the scene to find her plate a puddle of melted metal. Capt. Lyon resided 12 miles from the city of Washington on the Maryland side. From this point soon after the funding of the national capital, he set his face southward and westward finally finding himself in the Western wilds of Buncombe on the lands as above stated. He died about the middle of the last century. Three sons and a daughter survived him. Through some of his descendants in this county have reached to great-great grand children, but no one bears his name. I feel it a privilege to tell the readers of The News that such a gentleman once lived and adorned the society of our progenitors. Many good men’s names have been tarnished by misdeeds of one or more descendants, but down to the fifth generation of this good man’s children not a male or female, to the knowledge of hearing of this writer has occurred. He seems to have bequeathed the better part of himself to heirs following to have and to hold forever. I refer you to L.C. Lynch, a representative of the fourth generation. Isn’t he a pretty clever fellow? What’s wrong with Lee? I know of none with Lyons blood, worse perchance, few better. Of course he is too far removed to be expected to come up to the original model; however, sometimes freaks in nature occur. From the front page of The Brevard News, June 9, 1921
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