Johnson County, Indiana - Chapter 9: Contekdixg Forces, 1881

Chapter 9: Contekdixg Forces

Having thus briefly sketched the rise of the more prominent neighborhoods, and the growth of population during the early years of the county's history, we come now to a consideration of some of the obstacles which confronted the pioneer settlers of the county. Johnson County contains 320 square miles, and is a true parallelogram, being sixteen miles from east to west, and twenty from north to south. White River touches upon its northwest corner, cutting off a fraction over one thousand acres, while Blue River touches upon the southeast corner, cutting off a little over fourteen hundred acres. The general course of these rivers is to the southwest, and a glance at the map discloses the fact that the axial line of the water-shed between them begins a little west of the northeast corner of Pleasant Township, and thence it runs in a southwesterly course to a point about two miles northwest of the southeast corner of White River Township, and thence south, with a meandering line, to the south boundary of the county. The county is thus divided into two unequal parts, the larger of which, being about twothirds of the whole, is drained into Blue River, while the rainfall from the other third runs off into White River. The county is generally quite level, and when the country was first known, and for many years after, the level lands were exceedingly wet and swampy. At Williamsburg, a range of low hills or broken land sweeps up from the South and then bears off westerly to the county line. The country, on either side of the South and Middle Forks of Stott's Creek, for a short distance above the county line, is disfigured by hills and hollows. About one-twelfth of the entire county comes within the category of broken land, while the remaining eleven-twelfths ranges from a dead level, through an undulating, to a slightly rolling surface, and may be classed as level land.

Physical Condition

The men and women who came here for the purpose of founding homes in the wilderness, found a country where Nature was arrayed against them in one of her most forbidding forms. Judge Franklin Harden, who was a contemporary of the scenes of

"Tall trees covered the whole country with their wide-spreading branches, depending to the ground, and the shrubbery below arose and united with the branches of the trees. Huge grapevines, scorning to associate with the humble shrubs, like great serpents ascended and festooned the trees to the topmost branches, and thence, spreading in every direction, crept from tree to tree, tying and uniting the tops of a dozen together into an undistinguishable net-work of vegetation, as if for defense against the omnipotent force of the cyclone. Here grass and tallest trees,

" In the open spaces, in the valleys, grew either prickly-ash or nettles, both equally armed with sharp, fiery prickles. The nettles grew so thick, and were so terrible in the burning pain inflicted, that the wounded wild deer in its flight from the hounds of the hunter, although in search of a covert, would never enter. It was often necessary to cover the horses' legs while plowing fresh lands to prevent contact with the nettles. The soil, after a heavy rain, seemed to be afloat, and a deer, in its escape from the hunter, left so conspicuous a trail that he could be as readily followed as in the snow. Where the spice-wood did not grow too thickly, male fern formed a solid mass three feet in depth, covering logs and pitfalls so completely that the unwar}7 walker often found himself thrown on his head beyond the obstruction. The dry lands along the creeks and rivers were first brought into cultivation. The highest lands were often table-lands, and the wettest. One-half of Johnson County was of this character. Here, long sloughs extended over the country for miles, choked with brush and logs, and often without any outlet, and seemed to be, as no doubt they were, sections of extinct rivers, many of them a half a mile in width, and. in the rainy season, except for fallen logs, might have been navigated for long distances. In passing over these wet lands in the rainy season, but little dry land would appear, except an occasional dry spot like an islet, with its crest lowly bowed as if in dread of submergence. If any attempt was made to cultivate these wet lands, by deadening the timber, and also opening the drains, nothing was produced. The crop was drowned by the percolation and infiltration of water from the adjoining wet lands. It was, therefore, indispensably necessary that large bodies should be brought into cultivation at once. And so it was that for miles in extent, the lands were deadened and exposed to the action of the sun. The ground thus became drier and caused contraction on the roots of shrubbery, which had grown in a loose, wet soil, by which the whole died together. A man traveling through the woods on horseback could be heard a half-mile away crashing the brush and mowing a road for himself and horse. When the trees and shrubbery died, the whole ground was soon covered with fallen trees and brush. The wild weeds and grass now took possession of the ground and covered it also. During a dry time, two or three men might, by merely sowing the deadening over writh fire, burn up the whole superincumbent covering over eight or ten acres in a single day. The sloughs, which abounded, and which, except for obstructions by fallen timber, might have been navigated by small crafts for miles, were thus soon opened, and the drainage further assisted by tiling, till the whole country, in an incredibly short time, was brought into cultivation."

Condition Of The Roads

Into this wilderness, the first comers were compelled to work their way as best they could, but in time, roads were opened out by public or private enterprise, so that movers could come in without obstruction safe from the mud and swollen streams. For many years the Indianapolis lawyers who traveled the circuit, consumed an entire day in coming from Indianapolis to Franklin to attend the spring term of court; and it was for a long time considered a hard day's journey, for a resident of the Smock neighborhood to ride on horseback to Indianapolis and return. George Kerlin moved to the county in the month of September, 1831. and so muddy were the roads at that season, that his wagons were frequently mired to the axles. Every old resident can call to mind the rails and poles lying in the vicinity of the deeper mud holes, and which had been used as levers to raise wheels from the mire. Efforts were made, as the country became older, to make the roads better. Rails, poles and not infrequently round logs were used in "cross-laying" the roads at the wrorst places; but when we remember the sparsity of population and that road districts were necessarily large, it must be evident that not much more could be done than keep the deepest mud holes passable and the roads clear of fallen timber.

Many of the first settlers were too poor to come to the country in wagons, but packed through on horses. Christopher Ladd, as we have seen, brought his household stuff on a sled. When John S. Miller came up from Jennings County, to mark the spot of his future home previous to his bringing his wife, he carried out a lot of peach trees on a log-sled. When George Bridges came, he fetched a load of household stuff on a wooden truck-wagon. But enough examples might be produced indefinitely, showing the straits to which the nioneers were put in getting; to their destinations. But come as they would, bad roads, from mud and water, or other causes, ever awaited them. Mrs. Catharine Hardin moved to the county in 1827, and the following: lively sketch from the pen of Judge Franklin Hardin, her son. tells the story of the difficulties which met them on the way :

"In the year 1827. the same widow and her boy, now two years older than when they stopped overnight with the hospitaable Morgan, together with two older brothers and a sister, constituting a family, left Nicholas County, Ky., with the purpose of making Johnson County, Ind.. their permanent home, to which a large part of the original family had emigrated three years before. When the emigrants arrived at Shelbyville. they were compelled to choose whether they would there take the road to Indianapolis and then down the Bluff road, or take the road by way of Franklin, and the Madison and Indianapolis State road as far north as to Whetzel's old trace, and thence west by Bell's. The Whetzel trace across Johnson County, was now impassable by reason of the fallen timber across its route, killed by the emigrant wagons and teams of former years, bruising and cutting the roots. Whetzel's trace from Loper's cabin, at Camp Creek, to the Madison and Indianapolis State road, ceased to be traveled in the year 1826. being superseded by other roads and on account of fallen timber across it. It was" never laid out by lawful authorny and was never repaired. The road by way of Franklin was chosen, and. the weather being pleasant, the wacron rolled merrily down Blue River to the point where the road crossed that stream. It was late in the evening, when a terrible rainstorm came on. Not far from the river, in the edge of a cornfield, stood a deserted cabin: possession of it was taken, and preparation made to spend the night there. The roof of boards was mostly gone, but still enough remained to afford partial protection. During the whole night the rain continued to pour down unceasingly. When the morning broke, an active move was made for Sugar Creek, thinking it might yet be possible to ford it. Blue River was in our rear, pouring down its angry waters, and Sugar Creek in front, whose condition was unknown. The road ran by the dwelling of John Webb, on the Shelby side of the line. When Sugar Creek was reached, its angry waters were foaming along, dashing out over the low grounds and filling up the bayous. It was the first rise after the summer and fall were gone. The trees had already cast their leaves and had colored the water a dark red brown. To add to our troubles the winds turned and blew from the northwest, bringing some snow. To advance or retreat was equally impossible; we were in the midst of the waters and surrounded. A few stakes were hastily driven in the ground and bedclothes nailed to them, so as to inclose a space ten feet in diameter, and a fire built in the circle, thus securing a comfortable place. An elder brother was along, a man of shifts and expedients, who had already resided in the county for three years, and who had often swam its creeks and rivers. He sent back for an auger, to Mr. Webb, who kindly lent us the largest he had, three-fourths of an inch in diameter, and also the loan of a little unsteady water-craft, a mere trough, which would carry three men only at a time, by one or two lying flat on its bottom as ballast. There stood on the bank of the stream a tall hackberry tree, dead and recently stripped of its bark by woodcocks in search of worms. In a few minutes it ^as cut down, falling along the shore, and was soon cut up into sections of twelve or fourteen feet. These were placed side by side, and poles laid athwart them and pinned fast by boring through the poles and into the logs. Thus a raft was constructed in an hour sufficient for our purpose. -Willis." said Mr. Webb, to his son, on his return from watching our morions, 'what are those people doing at the creek?' 'Well,' said Willis, 'they are going to cross the creek on a log raft.' - Nonsense,' said the old gentleman, * it can't be done.' The wagon was unloaded in a trice, and itself pulled to pieces. Then piling on the raft all it would buoy up, two or three hundred feet of bed-cords was attached to the raft, and two men mounted it armed with ten-foot poles. The canoe led the way up the shore with the men and poles forcing it along, then resting against the shore the boat passed over, and now, when across, the work began in earnest. The ropes were pulled over, the poles were plied also, and the trip was soon made, and again and again repeated until all were over. The cattle and horses were forced in and swam over. There were some sixty head of sheep to be gotten across some way ; they were more troublesome than the rafting. We tried to get them to swim: we forced them into the stream, but thev would return always to the same side. Finally a happy thought came to our relief. The little craft was brought forth, and two sheep laid flat in the bottom and then we crossed and secured them on the opposite bank. Now began on both sides the most appealing bleatings. A little force was all that was necessary to make the flock take to the water and swim over. The wagon was soon reloaded and hastily driven westward, while the angry creek was at our heels. On the first high ground, a quarter of a mile cast of William Needham's and George Hunt's cross-road, we made our camp for the night. The roads henceforward exceed belief, the wagon often sinking to the hubs all the way to Franklin, where the streets were no better. At one and a half miles north of Franklin, a deserted hut was occupied for the night. At Franklin the writer mounted a horse, and struck out for White River Township for assistance, by way of the Indianapolis State road. There was scarcely a dry spot of ground on the whole route. At a small stream near David Trout's, ordinarily dry. the water was mid-rib to a horse, and other small streams crossed equally deep. Leaving the State road when Whetzel's old trace was reached, a long valley, lying north and south in its length, was crossed near William Law's, a quarter of a mile in width, and which doubtless is a section of some extinct river. The water could scarcely be crossed without swimming. A faithful dog had left the wagon and followed ; he had crossed so many streams and ponds by swimming, that here he could swim no more, and, getting in a dry position, refused to go further. After riding some distance to try him the writer returned and dragging the dog across the pommel of the saddle, carried him to a safe landing beyond. A few hours' riding over drier land brought the end of the journey. Next morning, assistance went in haste to the aid of the family."

Clearing The Land

And when the mover had reached his destination and his cabin was built, the hardships had only begun. Men had to live; food and clothing for themselves and families had to be found somehow, and the only sure source of supply was to fell the timber and till the soil. The first year or so, the Blue River and Nineveh inhabitants carried corn meal from Washington County and from the White Water country, while the White River people found a supply at Conner's Prairie, in Hamilton County, or at Connersville, in Fayette. With fire, ax and maul, the men went into the woods and the work of destruction was begun. The writer can remember when, of a still morning in the early spring days, the sound of the ax and of the maul was heard from every quarter of the compass, while the crash of falling timber was ever in the air. The trees were felled and cut into suitable lengths, and the green logs often lay so thickly upon a new field, that one could walk all over it by stepping from log to log. With great expenditure of muscular effort these logs were rolled into heaps, and were then consumed by fire. We of to-day can form no adequate idea of the toil and weariness that log-rolling and log-burning brought to the first settlers. It was the custom for men whose logs had been rolled and fired, to "right up" their burning heaps before daylight, and, after a hasty breakfast, reach the place appointed for their day's work by sun-up, and, after laboring with a handspike until sunset, then go home and "right up " their own burning-heaps until ten or eleven o'clock at night. This was the manner of the laborious lives of the pioneers for many years after the county was first settled, and from fifteen to thirty days' log-rolling was the lot of every able-bodied man during the spring season.

But sometimes men were so pressed for time and help as to be unable to roll and burn the logs. Not uncommonly did they clear away the underbrush and the logs, and, after burning the green trees to kill the foliage, plant their corn and raise their crops. But not all could do even this much. In raising his first crop of corn, Simon Covert managed to pile and burn the brush, but planted among the logs. Serrill Winchester, of Union Township, felled his trees into windrows, and planted in the open spaces between. Andrew Pierce, of White River Township, planted with the hoe amid the logs, and tilled his corn with the same implement.

Discouraging as clearing the early fields must have been to the husbandman, and severe the toil of planting and tilling, yet when the corn was raised it was with the utmost difficulty that the farmer could reap the benefit of his crop. The squirrels swarmed in the woods, and, while not so numerous, the raccoons were, nevertheless, ,very destructive. " Among the four families living in White River Township in the year 1821, not a single bushel of corn was saved from the squirrels and raccoons."*

In 1821, George Barnett bought a four-acre field of corn in the shock. " I helped remove the fodder," says Ambrose Barnett, his son, " and I was the lucky one. I found one little ear of corn. So close had been the scrutiny of the gray squirrels that they had overlooked but one ear in the four acres." John Harter stored a few bushels of corn in the "loft" of his cabin, but the squrrels found it out, and, ere he was aware, carried off the last ear. John Smiley had a four-acre field of corn just ripened, when it was invaded by the rodents, and, in two days, every ear was eaten or carried away. It was quite common for the farmers to hire squirrel hunters to kill off the squirrels found in and about their fields. Mrs. Gertrude Farmer remembers when it was her work to patrol the corn-field, with the rifle upon her shoulder ; and children with dogs and hurdy-gurdys were kept in and about the fields from morning till night during the troublesome seasons.

Insect Life

Nor must we forget the insects that were here to annoy. " Flies, gnats and musquitoes," says Judge Hardin, "were everywhere, in the fields and in the woods, and in the houses. There were times when no horse could stand an attack of flies. The plowing was performed during a few hours of the early morning, and the horse hastily driven to the stable. At night he was turned out to the wild woods to seek his living on wild grass and wild peavines, everywhere abundant. Many settlers kept up a fire through the summer near at hand, that their animals might protect themselves by standing in the smoke. Before retiring at night, it was the practice to produce smoke in the dwelling-house in order to drive out the mosquitoes and gnats from the bedrooms ; then, by closing the doors, prevent their further ingress."

Wild Animals

A recital of the obstacles that lay in the way of the pioneers would be incomplete which failed to make mention of the injury done by wild animals. The visitations from the squirrels have been referred to, and it remains to be added that, by reason of the wolves, the rearing of sheep was for many years next to impossible. And when it is borne in mind that home-made clothing was universally worn, the importance of the wool crop at that age is apparent. Notwithstanding, the utmost diligence was used in protecting the flocks in pens by night, yet the destruction went on, and the loss from this source alone to the early settlers brought discouragement and privation. The wolves were destructive also to the young pigs, but the sows soon learned to feed in bands, and, when the wolf came, bunching their offspring, they surrounded them, and standing, snouts outward, would, in general, successfully ward off the attack. So great an enemy of the pioneer was the wolf esteemed, that laws were made encouraging his destruction, and, up to the year 1840, and even later, allowances were made out of the county treasury for wolf-scalps. In 1835, Jacob Hozier was allowed $2.50 for five scalps under six months old, and the next year James Williams was allowed for six.

Nor must we fail to take note of the great abundance of rattlesnakes that crawled, hissed and rattled in every thicket. Two species of these reptiles - the black rattlesnake, short, thick, and, by no means, inactive, and the yellow rattlesnake, growing from six to eight feet long and quite sluggish - were along the brakes of the creeks and in all the dry lands. Thomas Barnett, who came to the Blue River neighborhood in 1821 and raised a crop, lived until in June in a camp walled up on three sides and open on the fourth. But so many rattlesnakes were found crawling in the brush and about his camp that he abandoned it sooner than he otherwise would have done and returned to his family, then living in Jennings County.

The small caves so often found in the vicinity of springs in the early day were a favorite resort of the reptiles. At a spring that flowed from the hill on the Nineveh, "' twenty or twenty -five " rattlesnakes came out in the spring season of one of the first years after the settlement was started, and were killed. One of these was found in the path by two women, who called Robert Moore to their assistance, and, on killing it, he plucked as a trophy twenty-two rattles from its tail.

Samuel Owens, who settled on Sugar Creek, built his cabin hard by a spring. Several rattlesnakes had been killed in the vicinity of his cabin, and finally he surmised that the fountain had hollowed the ground underneath, and that the hollow was now a snake den. Not long after, he and his wife had been to a neighbor's and returned to their home after nightfall. On opening the cabin door, a large rattlesnake coiled on the cabin floor sounded the alarm, and Owens was compelled to make a torch, by the light of which he ventured in and killed the intruder. The next morning he called to his assistance his neighbor, Thomas Needham, and, on digging into the spring cave, a den of snakes was found, and eight of the very largest kind were taken out and killed. Few, if any, rattlesnakes are remembered to have been seen in the neighborhood ever after.

On the "Doty hill," in White River Township, snakes were numerous. John Doty lived in a tent for some time after he settled on that hill, and his family were much annoyed with the snakes. They stretched themselves across the paths, and one day while the family were eating their meal, a huge monster

Peter Vaudiver found them numerous in his neighborhood. One day he felled a large poplar and then went to his dinner. On returning, four large ones had crawled out of a hollow in the stump and lay about in coils. One of his sons drew one of the largest to the house after it was dead to show to his mother. The next morning, two large ones Were found coiled in the door-yard. They had followed the trail, as was supposed, of their dead mate.

It has been said that after the larger variety of rattlesnakes began to disappear, the smaller became more numerous, and perhaps this is true. Nathan Perry says that he killed eight black rattlesnakes in one day, while passing over and about his father's clearing in the northwest corner of Ninevah Township.

But rattlesnakes had their enemies. No man ever met with one without making an effort to kill it. Deer are said to have killed them on occasions, and to the hog the rattlesnake was a dainty morsel of food. In a few years, all were gone. And notwithstanding their great numbers, the writer has heard of but two instances of persons being bitten by them in the county, neither of whom received a serious injury.

Sickness

Probably the most serious obstacle in the way of the first settlers was the great sickness that prevailed during the early years here as well as elsewhere throughout the West. Quoting again from Judge Hardin:

"Whatever was the producing cause, whether animalcular or microscopic vegetation or some other subtile poison of yet undiscovered chemical combination in the kingdom of affinities, I know not, for I write only of what I saw, and leave to others better informed to find and explain that which I know not. From 1832 to 1836, I saw the trees over one-half of Johnson County dying in consequence of having been girdled, and the hot sun, which for ages had been shut out, now shining fiercely on the bare ground, on pools, ponds and morasses, which by evaporation were soon dried up, and left their depressions full of dead and putrid animals and anhnalculre. The desiccation of the ground contracted it upon the rootlets of the shrubbery and grasses which had grown in the shade and in a loose and humid soil, and this brought death to them also, so that the spicewood throughout the country disappeared everywhere in two years. The entrance of the sun into the openings in the forests deranged the equilibrium of the atmospheric temperature, and thereby produced a general and free circulation by which the unbroken forest was also brought into a similar condition, and thus a new and permanent feature of atmospheric action was established.

" One thing I know, that under the baleful influence of this change for many years to come, Death numbered his victims by hundreds. The land was filled with mourning, and the graveyards filled with the pioneer dead. Many persons seemed to die from pure stagnation of blood in the veins. The doctors, by following the old system, only accelerated the crisis. Active stimulants only were found to be suitable. A quart of whisky in a night, with large doses of quinine, once more restored life and mobility to the blood and saved the patient. From the 1st of August to the 1st of October in each year, no business requiring labor was set apart to be performed. Sickness was the rule, and business was dispatched, medicines provided and preparations made to meet the sickly season. After this was over, in any assemblage, one-half the members at least wore pale faces. This was the age of quackery and quack medicines. After the quinine in the shops was used up, which was often the case before half the sickly season was over, the people had no remedy except in the use of boneset and gentian. The sick, therefore, readily fell in with any promised relief. Sappington's pills and others with big names heralded by a long list of curative virtues found a ready sale. Against the walls of every cabin, suspended from nails, hung two or three dozen small bottles already emptied of their contents, but with little, if any, realization to the sick of the promised benefit. A cart-load could have been gathered in a day, and such a collection would present to our children now an interesting and strange display of old curiosities, and form a long catalogue of quack nostrums."