The son of Paul Bratton and Sarah Rachel Clark.
He was united in marriage to Laura Lucinda Williams in Tennessee in 1837.
He served in The Mexican War with Capt. Hensley.
**********
The Mountain Wave
Marshall, Arkansas
May 4, 1901
In discussing zinc affairs the other day, says the Maryhattiana Herald, Ben. Bratton, Sr. the grandfather of Deputy Prosecuting Attorney, U.S. Bratton, of Little Rock, was down at the Jack Pot, on Buffalo River, recounting the past, and said:
"There is the very spot where I camped, sixty two years ago last Christmas time. All up and down Buffalo river at that time was a cane brake, filled with deer, bear and almost every 'varmint' you could name. It was a glorious Christmas time though, and my then little family were very happy. We were from Tennessee and of old line whig stock. O, yes, I am tolerable peart for a youngster, almost ninety years old and propose to banter my sixty year old son, Ben. Jr., for a foot race one of these days, Ben is a good boy, but he gets old to fast for me. That red bluff you want to know about, eh? Well, while I was camping in the bottoms opposite it sixty two years ago I named it 'United States Land Office,' because it was the biggest and prettiest thing about here. Yes I am glad to know that it is a zinc field all about here, and it seems probable that I may see great zinc works here before I die. Educated and learned men tell me that this is an immensely rich county. I hope so."
Contributor: Travis Holt (48272081) • [email protected] April 11, 2022
**********
Marshall Mountain Wave,
Marshall Arkansas
November 11, 1905
About 7 o'clock Monday evening, the town was horrified at the news that "Uncle Ben" Bratton had been run over and ground to death by the train. A number of citizens ran streaming headlong toward the depot, where the mangled form of the venerable old man lay writhing in anguish and pain. He was found lying about one hundred yards from the depot, just opposite the water tank, where the terrible accident occurred. Mr. Bratton had been a passenger from Marshall on the evening train, which, for some cause was belated.
Now a brief explanation may give the reader a better idea of the accident. After the train arrives at the station and the passengers are all safely alighted, it is then the custom for it to run further down on the main line, back up on the "Y", leave the coaches, then go back upon the main line and down to the water tank, takes on a supply water and then goes back up on the main track about three hundred yards, then down a switch to a coal bin, where it is "watched" for the night.
On this fateful Monday evening, after the train had proceeded down the track, the passengers started after the train, walking directly behind it. The train then backed up on the "Y" to leave the coaches, while the passengers stepped aside to let it pass, as they were now just where the "Y" intercepted the main line. They then walked down on the main line below the "Y" switch and then moved hurriedly on before the engine could uncouple from the coaches and get back to the main track again.
Mr. Bratton ("Uncle Cuff" as he was familiarly called) came tottering along with the help of his cane, and, thinking that, when the train ran up on the "Y" it would not come back again, proceeded down the track, in hopes of arriving at the home of his granddaughter, Mrs. C. V. Smith, not thinking of the great calamity which was soon to befall him. First, the coaches were detached, the lever reversed, and the great drive wheels came, rolling on, carrying that massive engine whose ponderous weight sinks down the wooden slabs on which the rails are laid. Being old and somewhat deaf, Mr. Bratton failed to hear the rumbling noise behind him until the pilot of the engine touched his legs and he was thrown down. His head fell outside the track but both his legs were ground off about the knees and the flesh separated from the bone from the knees of the body. He made no alarm himself, but was seen by the parties nearby, who warned the engineer that they had killed a man. The engineer was deeply affected when he saw the withered and worn old body he had so ignorantly and unintentionally run over, laying, lifeless in the shadow of the massive engine.
He was buried on Tuesday in the family graveyard on his old homestead in Wiley's Cove, in the presence of a large concourse of sorrowing relatives and friends."
Benjamin Bratton, Sr., was 98 years of age, according to the best authority, and was one of the pioneer settlers of North Arkansas, settling in this county in the early 30's. Notwithstanding his age he could get about with considerable ease and was possessed of remarkable vitality. Just a short time ago he walked from Leslie to Marshal, a distance of 9 miles, canvassing for a book concern, and was engaged in that work when he met his untimely end. His life had been a busy one, and he always wanted to be doing something. In his death Searcy County loses one of her grandest old citizens, and one who did a noble and self-sacrificing work in helping to carve out of the wilderness a garden spot for future generations.
He is survived by one sister, Aunt Rachel Rose, two years his senior, who for many years had made her home with her grandson, John M. Butler, near Maumee. Also five sons and two daughters survive him - John, James, Francis, and Ambrose, of Wiley's Cove, and Benj. Jr., of Marshall, and Mrs. J. W. Baldwin of Leslie and Mrs. Pence Shipman, of Alvarado, Tex., besides a number of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
He was united in marriage to Laura Lucinda Williams in Tennessee in 1837.
He served in The Mexican War with Capt. Hensley.
**********
The Mountain Wave
Marshall, Arkansas
May 4, 1901
In discussing zinc affairs the other day, says the Maryhattiana Herald, Ben. Bratton, Sr. the grandfather of Deputy Prosecuting Attorney, U.S. Bratton, of Little Rock, was down at the Jack Pot, on Buffalo River, recounting the past, and said:
"There is the very spot where I camped, sixty two years ago last Christmas time. All up and down Buffalo river at that time was a cane brake, filled with deer, bear and almost every 'varmint' you could name. It was a glorious Christmas time though, and my then little family were very happy. We were from Tennessee and of old line whig stock. O, yes, I am tolerable peart for a youngster, almost ninety years old and propose to banter my sixty year old son, Ben. Jr., for a foot race one of these days, Ben is a good boy, but he gets old to fast for me. That red bluff you want to know about, eh? Well, while I was camping in the bottoms opposite it sixty two years ago I named it 'United States Land Office,' because it was the biggest and prettiest thing about here. Yes I am glad to know that it is a zinc field all about here, and it seems probable that I may see great zinc works here before I die. Educated and learned men tell me that this is an immensely rich county. I hope so."
Contributor: Travis Holt (48272081) • [email protected] April 11, 2022
**********
Marshall Mountain Wave,
Marshall Arkansas
November 11, 1905
About 7 o'clock Monday evening, the town was horrified at the news that "Uncle Ben" Bratton had been run over and ground to death by the train. A number of citizens ran streaming headlong toward the depot, where the mangled form of the venerable old man lay writhing in anguish and pain. He was found lying about one hundred yards from the depot, just opposite the water tank, where the terrible accident occurred. Mr. Bratton had been a passenger from Marshall on the evening train, which, for some cause was belated.
Now a brief explanation may give the reader a better idea of the accident. After the train arrives at the station and the passengers are all safely alighted, it is then the custom for it to run further down on the main line, back up on the "Y", leave the coaches, then go back upon the main line and down to the water tank, takes on a supply water and then goes back up on the main track about three hundred yards, then down a switch to a coal bin, where it is "watched" for the night.
On this fateful Monday evening, after the train had proceeded down the track, the passengers started after the train, walking directly behind it. The train then backed up on the "Y" to leave the coaches, while the passengers stepped aside to let it pass, as they were now just where the "Y" intercepted the main line. They then walked down on the main line below the "Y" switch and then moved hurriedly on before the engine could uncouple from the coaches and get back to the main track again.
Mr. Bratton ("Uncle Cuff" as he was familiarly called) came tottering along with the help of his cane, and, thinking that, when the train ran up on the "Y" it would not come back again, proceeded down the track, in hopes of arriving at the home of his granddaughter, Mrs. C. V. Smith, not thinking of the great calamity which was soon to befall him. First, the coaches were detached, the lever reversed, and the great drive wheels came, rolling on, carrying that massive engine whose ponderous weight sinks down the wooden slabs on which the rails are laid. Being old and somewhat deaf, Mr. Bratton failed to hear the rumbling noise behind him until the pilot of the engine touched his legs and he was thrown down. His head fell outside the track but both his legs were ground off about the knees and the flesh separated from the bone from the knees of the body. He made no alarm himself, but was seen by the parties nearby, who warned the engineer that they had killed a man. The engineer was deeply affected when he saw the withered and worn old body he had so ignorantly and unintentionally run over, laying, lifeless in the shadow of the massive engine.
He was buried on Tuesday in the family graveyard on his old homestead in Wiley's Cove, in the presence of a large concourse of sorrowing relatives and friends."
Benjamin Bratton, Sr., was 98 years of age, according to the best authority, and was one of the pioneer settlers of North Arkansas, settling in this county in the early 30's. Notwithstanding his age he could get about with considerable ease and was possessed of remarkable vitality. Just a short time ago he walked from Leslie to Marshal, a distance of 9 miles, canvassing for a book concern, and was engaged in that work when he met his untimely end. His life had been a busy one, and he always wanted to be doing something. In his death Searcy County loses one of her grandest old citizens, and one who did a noble and self-sacrificing work in helping to carve out of the wilderness a garden spot for future generations.
He is survived by one sister, Aunt Rachel Rose, two years his senior, who for many years had made her home with her grandson, John M. Butler, near Maumee. Also five sons and two daughters survive him - John, James, Francis, and Ambrose, of Wiley's Cove, and Benj. Jr., of Marshall, and Mrs. J. W. Baldwin of Leslie and Mrs. Pence Shipman, of Alvarado, Tex., besides a number of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
The son of Paul Bratton and Sarah Rachel Clark.
He was united in marriage to Laura Lucinda Williams in Tennessee in 1837.
He served in The Mexican War with Capt. Hensley.
**********
The Mountain Wave
Marshall, Arkansas
May 4, 1901
In discussing zinc affairs the other day, says the Maryhattiana Herald, Ben. Bratton, Sr. the grandfather of Deputy Prosecuting Attorney, U.S. Bratton, of Little Rock, was down at the Jack Pot, on Buffalo River, recounting the past, and said:
"There is the very spot where I camped, sixty two years ago last Christmas time. All up and down Buffalo river at that time was a cane brake, filled with deer, bear and almost every 'varmint' you could name. It was a glorious Christmas time though, and my then little family were very happy. We were from Tennessee and of old line whig stock. O, yes, I am tolerable peart for a youngster, almost ninety years old and propose to banter my sixty year old son, Ben. Jr., for a foot race one of these days, Ben is a good boy, but he gets old to fast for me. That red bluff you want to know about, eh? Well, while I was camping in the bottoms opposite it sixty two years ago I named it 'United States Land Office,' because it was the biggest and prettiest thing about here. Yes I am glad to know that it is a zinc field all about here, and it seems probable that I may see great zinc works here before I die. Educated and learned men tell me that this is an immensely rich county. I hope so."
Contributor: Travis Holt (48272081) • [email protected] April 11, 2022
**********
Marshall Mountain Wave,
Marshall Arkansas
November 11, 1905
About 7 o'clock Monday evening, the town was horrified at the news that "Uncle Ben" Bratton had been run over and ground to death by the train. A number of citizens ran streaming headlong toward the depot, where the mangled form of the venerable old man lay writhing in anguish and pain. He was found lying about one hundred yards from the depot, just opposite the water tank, where the terrible accident occurred. Mr. Bratton had been a passenger from Marshall on the evening train, which, for some cause was belated.
Now a brief explanation may give the reader a better idea of the accident. After the train arrives at the station and the passengers are all safely alighted, it is then the custom for it to run further down on the main line, back up on the "Y", leave the coaches, then go back upon the main line and down to the water tank, takes on a supply water and then goes back up on the main track about three hundred yards, then down a switch to a coal bin, where it is "watched" for the night.
On this fateful Monday evening, after the train had proceeded down the track, the passengers started after the train, walking directly behind it. The train then backed up on the "Y" to leave the coaches, while the passengers stepped aside to let it pass, as they were now just where the "Y" intercepted the main line. They then walked down on the main line below the "Y" switch and then moved hurriedly on before the engine could uncouple from the coaches and get back to the main track again.
Mr. Bratton ("Uncle Cuff" as he was familiarly called) came tottering along with the help of his cane, and, thinking that, when the train ran up on the "Y" it would not come back again, proceeded down the track, in hopes of arriving at the home of his granddaughter, Mrs. C. V. Smith, not thinking of the great calamity which was soon to befall him. First, the coaches were detached, the lever reversed, and the great drive wheels came, rolling on, carrying that massive engine whose ponderous weight sinks down the wooden slabs on which the rails are laid. Being old and somewhat deaf, Mr. Bratton failed to hear the rumbling noise behind him until the pilot of the engine touched his legs and he was thrown down. His head fell outside the track but both his legs were ground off about the knees and the flesh separated from the bone from the knees of the body. He made no alarm himself, but was seen by the parties nearby, who warned the engineer that they had killed a man. The engineer was deeply affected when he saw the withered and worn old body he had so ignorantly and unintentionally run over, laying, lifeless in the shadow of the massive engine.
He was buried on Tuesday in the family graveyard on his old homestead in Wiley's Cove, in the presence of a large concourse of sorrowing relatives and friends."
Benjamin Bratton, Sr., was 98 years of age, according to the best authority, and was one of the pioneer settlers of North Arkansas, settling in this county in the early 30's. Notwithstanding his age he could get about with considerable ease and was possessed of remarkable vitality. Just a short time ago he walked from Leslie to Marshal, a distance of 9 miles, canvassing for a book concern, and was engaged in that work when he met his untimely end. His life had been a busy one, and he always wanted to be doing something. In his death Searcy County loses one of her grandest old citizens, and one who did a noble and self-sacrificing work in helping to carve out of the wilderness a garden spot for future generations.
He is survived by one sister, Aunt Rachel Rose, two years his senior, who for many years had made her home with her grandson, John M. Butler, near Maumee. Also five sons and two daughters survive him - John, James, Francis, and Ambrose, of Wiley's Cove, and Benj. Jr., of Marshall, and Mrs. J. W. Baldwin of Leslie and Mrs. Pence Shipman, of Alvarado, Tex., besides a number of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
He was united in marriage to Laura Lucinda Williams in Tennessee in 1837.
He served in The Mexican War with Capt. Hensley.
**********
The Mountain Wave
Marshall, Arkansas
May 4, 1901
In discussing zinc affairs the other day, says the Maryhattiana Herald, Ben. Bratton, Sr. the grandfather of Deputy Prosecuting Attorney, U.S. Bratton, of Little Rock, was down at the Jack Pot, on Buffalo River, recounting the past, and said:
"There is the very spot where I camped, sixty two years ago last Christmas time. All up and down Buffalo river at that time was a cane brake, filled with deer, bear and almost every 'varmint' you could name. It was a glorious Christmas time though, and my then little family were very happy. We were from Tennessee and of old line whig stock. O, yes, I am tolerable peart for a youngster, almost ninety years old and propose to banter my sixty year old son, Ben. Jr., for a foot race one of these days, Ben is a good boy, but he gets old to fast for me. That red bluff you want to know about, eh? Well, while I was camping in the bottoms opposite it sixty two years ago I named it 'United States Land Office,' because it was the biggest and prettiest thing about here. Yes I am glad to know that it is a zinc field all about here, and it seems probable that I may see great zinc works here before I die. Educated and learned men tell me that this is an immensely rich county. I hope so."
Contributor: Travis Holt (48272081) • [email protected] April 11, 2022
**********
Marshall Mountain Wave,
Marshall Arkansas
November 11, 1905
About 7 o'clock Monday evening, the town was horrified at the news that "Uncle Ben" Bratton had been run over and ground to death by the train. A number of citizens ran streaming headlong toward the depot, where the mangled form of the venerable old man lay writhing in anguish and pain. He was found lying about one hundred yards from the depot, just opposite the water tank, where the terrible accident occurred. Mr. Bratton had been a passenger from Marshall on the evening train, which, for some cause was belated.
Now a brief explanation may give the reader a better idea of the accident. After the train arrives at the station and the passengers are all safely alighted, it is then the custom for it to run further down on the main line, back up on the "Y", leave the coaches, then go back upon the main line and down to the water tank, takes on a supply water and then goes back up on the main track about three hundred yards, then down a switch to a coal bin, where it is "watched" for the night.
On this fateful Monday evening, after the train had proceeded down the track, the passengers started after the train, walking directly behind it. The train then backed up on the "Y" to leave the coaches, while the passengers stepped aside to let it pass, as they were now just where the "Y" intercepted the main line. They then walked down on the main line below the "Y" switch and then moved hurriedly on before the engine could uncouple from the coaches and get back to the main track again.
Mr. Bratton ("Uncle Cuff" as he was familiarly called) came tottering along with the help of his cane, and, thinking that, when the train ran up on the "Y" it would not come back again, proceeded down the track, in hopes of arriving at the home of his granddaughter, Mrs. C. V. Smith, not thinking of the great calamity which was soon to befall him. First, the coaches were detached, the lever reversed, and the great drive wheels came, rolling on, carrying that massive engine whose ponderous weight sinks down the wooden slabs on which the rails are laid. Being old and somewhat deaf, Mr. Bratton failed to hear the rumbling noise behind him until the pilot of the engine touched his legs and he was thrown down. His head fell outside the track but both his legs were ground off about the knees and the flesh separated from the bone from the knees of the body. He made no alarm himself, but was seen by the parties nearby, who warned the engineer that they had killed a man. The engineer was deeply affected when he saw the withered and worn old body he had so ignorantly and unintentionally run over, laying, lifeless in the shadow of the massive engine.
He was buried on Tuesday in the family graveyard on his old homestead in Wiley's Cove, in the presence of a large concourse of sorrowing relatives and friends."
Benjamin Bratton, Sr., was 98 years of age, according to the best authority, and was one of the pioneer settlers of North Arkansas, settling in this county in the early 30's. Notwithstanding his age he could get about with considerable ease and was possessed of remarkable vitality. Just a short time ago he walked from Leslie to Marshal, a distance of 9 miles, canvassing for a book concern, and was engaged in that work when he met his untimely end. His life had been a busy one, and he always wanted to be doing something. In his death Searcy County loses one of her grandest old citizens, and one who did a noble and self-sacrificing work in helping to carve out of the wilderness a garden spot for future generations.
He is survived by one sister, Aunt Rachel Rose, two years his senior, who for many years had made her home with her grandson, John M. Butler, near Maumee. Also five sons and two daughters survive him - John, James, Francis, and Ambrose, of Wiley's Cove, and Benj. Jr., of Marshall, and Mrs. J. W. Baldwin of Leslie and Mrs. Pence Shipman, of Alvarado, Tex., besides a number of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
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