Johnson County, Indiana - Chapter 3: By D. D. Banta, 1888 (part 2 of 2)

But the reader must not be misled by the figures. The county taken as a whole was far less given to turbulence than the figures would seem to indicate. There was relatively but little fighting done in the country neighborhoods. Most of it took place at the elections, at the musters, and at the towns. At the first election on I^lue River, which was held at the house of Hezekiah Davison, the first keg of whisky ever brought to the county was on the ground in the interest of William Williamson, a candidate for clerk of the Circuit Court. Being free to all thirstv voters, during the day, many became intoxicated, after which a promiscuous fight was inaugurated, during which the combatants beat, bit, scratched and gouged each other, and wallowed in the mud and mire as was never known in the county before, and for that matter, for many years after. On the same day at the White River voting place, it is remembered that John Doty and Permenter Mullenix had a hard fight over their respective candidates. Men fought over very trivial matters in those days, but to their credit be it written, they usually deferred their collisions till they could meet in some public place, and hence the country neighborhoods were far less pestered with brawls than the court records would seem to indicate.

Strange as it may sound to modern ears, it is nevertheless true that men fought for the sport of the thing. It was not uncommon for a lusty man, who, feeling the effect of a dram of ardent spirits, and taking pride in his manhood, to challenge the crowd he happened to be in, and it was seldom some one did not accept his challenge, when a fisticuff at once ensued. A man yet living, narrated a circumstance to the writer, illustrating in a high degree the spirit of the times. He was at a log-rolling when one of his associates began vaunting his powers. " I can tie your hands behind your back," said my informant. It was agreed that he might make the attempt. A rope was brought, and everything being ready, my informant, who was a large, powerful man, promptly knocked his man down and tied his hands behind him before he recovered. It was deemed a good joke. But the lawless element did not have it all their own way. In truth, the large majority of the people were law-abiding in all particulars. There were neighborhoods in which a personal encounter not only did not take place the year round, but in which no man lived who engaged therein at the elections or musters. The truth is, a limited number of the people comprised the rowdy element that engaged in the most of the brawls. The fines constituted the seminary fund, and Thomas Calvin, a noted pugilist of the early days, used to say, he " carried up one corner of the county seminary." The repressing influence of the law was made to be felt from the beginning, while the sentiment of the great majority of the people was unqualifiedly in favor of order.

With the first comers came the Christian Church. John P. Barnett, who came to the county in 182 1, was a Baptist preacher, and finding others here of like faith, they organized in 1823 the first church in the county. Early in the history of Nineveh Township, a Baptist Church, under the preaching of Mordecai Cole, was organized at the home of Daniel Mussulman; and when Richardson Hensley moved into Hensley Township, he carried with him a Baptist faith, and a Baptist Church was soon planted on Indian Creek. In 1824, the Presbyterian Church, the first in Franklin, was organized, and shortly after the Presbyterian Church of Greenwood, and in 183 1, the Presbyterian Church of Hopewell, and in 1832, the Presbyterian Church of Shiloh in the western edge of the county. In 1823, the Rev. James Scott, an itinerant Methodist minister, traveling up White River and preaching to the settlers wherever he found them, came to the Bluffs, where he preached and ultimately organized the first Methodist Church in the county.

In this review, the social life of the- pioneers deserves a word. Among the brightest pictures that have been handed down to us from their times, are those representing its social life, and many persons of to-day, led captive by them, long for the return of that social life, forgetful of the fact that by reason of changed conditions, it would be as much out of place now as would the return of the wild beasts that then inhabited the woods. The people in the beginning were dependent on each other. In sickness and in health, at home and abroad, they felt and realized this dependence. In sickness, the pioneer's neighbors volunteered to nurse him, and to plant or plow or harvest his corn, according to the season when his sickness came. If a doctor was required a neighbor volunteered to go after him, and if the sick died, he well knew that his neighbors would volunteer to dig his grave and lay his body to rest, and most likely show kindness to his family after he was gone.

The peculiar difficulties attending the labors of the pioneers required the joining of forces. The men of the neighborhood had to unite to build their cabins and to roll their logs. It was quite common to swap work in order that the strength of two or more might be exerted to a common end. Even housewives not infre- quently found profit in this kind of combination. In corn planting time, families frequently exchanged work, and old and young would drop and cover corn side by side. In the harvest field, reapers, cradlers, and binders marched in phalanx across the fields of grain. Men were wont to " splice" teams when they went to market at a river town. Now, out of all this interdependence and association, came sociability. Men and women who are a great deal together are quite sure to grow to like each other, and to love each other's society.

But other causes combined to promote sociability. The absence of newspapers and books promoted conversation. When the winter weather came and the fire was kindled in the wide-mouthed fire place, and sent its genial warmth to the remotest corners of the room, the tongues of those who sat around it were loosened. They had naught else to do, and so they talked to escape the pangs of their own inanition. The family circle was in truth the talking circle. And it was this love of conversation that led to the family visiting that was such a feature of the early times. During the seasons when the work was slack, neighbors visited each other till " bedtime," or longer, according to circumstances, and the visits were always returned.

The social habit manifested itself in divers ways. Saturday was a day on which men went to the towns, or other central place, to hear the news. They talked of their crops, of the incidents occurring in the various neighborhoods, and thus was established a habit that is yet observed, although the cause has long gone by. All over central and southern Indiana, men frequent the towns on Saturdays as on no other day.