Madison County, Indiana - Chapter 22, 1897

The Story Of A Hat

Sometime during the j'ear 188(_) a mysterious stranger dropped into (jreentield, in Hancock county, and settled down in the farming community in that vicinity. He engaged in the occupation of school teaching. He was very reticent, and gave but little information as to his former hoine or whence he came. It was evident, however, from his conversation that he was an eastern man from tiie fact that he had the Yankee brogue plainlv upon his tongue. He was verj' quiet and exceedingly neat and cleanly about his person. He seldom visited Greenfield except in the company of the farmer with whom he made his home while teaching school. He was thoroughly educated, and to all appearances was one who by his talents could command a much better position in life than the one he was then tilling. While many who became acquainted with him wondered why such a man should have located in a country district and confined himself to the monotony of school life, there was none who had any cause to believe there was anything wrong about him.

He remained in that neighborhood for nearly two years, during which time he became well acijuainted with the neighbors, and finally ingratiated himself into the confidence of the farmer to such an extent that he was entrusted with his business, such as drawing money on checks at the bank. This the stranger did with faithfuhiess, and would turn over to his host the last penny. As the result of all tiiis, he became well acquainted with tlie officers of the banks in Greenfield, who were delighted to have a visit from him. He was an interesting conversationalist, and was very suave in his manners.

amount. The note was signed by his farmer friend with whom he had been living, and the stranger was anxious to have it discounted, a favor which was readily granted by the officers. Nothing further was thought of the transaction until some weeks subsecjuently, when the farmer by whom the note was said to be signed came to town, and on going to the bank was informed by the officials that they had purchased the note. Their consternation and astonishment can be well imagined when informed by the farmer that the note in (|uestion was a base forgery; that the stranger had not been at the farmer's house for quite a while, and that he had left the count}-.

Efforts were made in a cjuiet way by the bank authorities (o ascertain his whereabouts, but all to no purpose. But little stir was made about it, as they did not desire the communit}' to know thev had been duped in such a manner.

Time rolled on until the year 1885, when at Rockford, Illinois, a stranger was found dead in his bed in one of the rooms of the hotel at which he was stopping. There were no papers or anything upon his person whereby his identity could be established. He had worn a stiff cady hat, and in the crown of this appeared the name of "Frank Spear, the Hatter, Anderson, Indiana." Letters were at once written to Mr. Spear, but he had no recollection of selling a hat to any such personage, and could give no clue to his name or identity.

The officials of Rockford, being anxious to find his relatives, as he had all the appearance of being a well-to-do man, iiad photographs made of him as he lay in liis coffin and then held the body until they had time to send these throughout the land.

Thomas R. Moore was at that time sheriff of Madison county, and received one of the photographs, which he exhibed to every one he met on the street, to all the business men, and to all the city officials, but no one could remember of having seen such a person. In some way, one of the photographs fell into the hands of the officials of Hancock county and was shown to the people there, and among these were the proprietors of the bank upon which he had committed the forgery, who recognized his features at once as the missing party for whom they had been looking. \\'iihout making much fuss or ceremony, they sent a representative to Rockford, Illinois, doubt. L'pon his person was found but little monev, ;is he had evidently squandered it, and the bank never received anvtliing to reimburse it.

During liis residence in Hancock county he gave his name as Blanchard, by which name he was known at that place, but nothing of his history, or his former life, or who he was, ever became known, and is to this day a mystery. One thing is certain and that is, that he was a very slick rogue, and that he laid his plans in the most artful and cunning manner and carried them to successful ends. When making his escape froin Greenfield, he no doubt passed through Anderson, and here purchased of Frank Spear the hat by which he was identihed after death.

The bank officials have to this day kept the secret of this affair to themselves, and there were very few outside of their own circle who knew anvthing about it.

Daring Escape Of A Criminal

The following story was related to F. T. Luse bv William B. Allen, late of Anderson and Ex-Sheriff of ^ladison countv. There are yet living in this county many persons who remember the occurrence. The world admires a hero, or deeds of daring; the more astonishing the achievements, the greater the admiration. The men in our late civil war who excited the greatest interest were those who took the greatest risks, resulting in the most unexpected terminations, but whether a man be facing the cannon's inouth, or engaged in any other work, if he has accomplished his undertaking, attention is at once directed to him, and his name for a season is upon man}' tongues.

Criminals have often won praise for their daring. One of the most remarkable cases of this kind took place in Madison county many years ago. A man of the name of William Harris, who was a noted criminal, displayed the most \vonderful nerve and daring to secure his freedom, and it was the theme of conversation in every circle for many months. Mr. Harris had, like manj- other wayward men, in his childhood, a good father and inother to guide him, but he gave little heed to them. Soon after reaching his majority, he began to associate with men of bad reputation, and was finally arrested by William B. Allen, Sheriff of Madison county, during the summer of 1S41, on the charge of passing counterfeit money, and on his trial he was proven giiiltv.

Iiistouv Ok Imadison Countv, Indiana. 1G3

In relating this story, it might not he inappropriate to state that other persons whose names have never been given up were known to have been engaged in this most nefarious business, but escaped impHcation.

The old log jail that stood in the court house yard was insecure and unfit for use, and the cupola, or belfry of the court house was improvised into a prison for keeping criminals, there being but one way of access to the cupola, and that was by the stairwav leading from the hall of the court iiouse. In the case of Harris it was not deemed necessary to watch him at any other place about the building than at this point. No one but his wife and the Sheriff and deputies visited him in his elevated confinement.

On the night of August ll', 18^:1, about 12 o'clock, the prisoner set himself at work lo make his escape. The night was one long to be remembered by those then living ; great torrents of rain fell from about 10 o'clock until daylight next morning. The rain was incessant, and was accompanied by vivid Hashes of lightning from all points of the heavens. The thunder was terrific and appalling in the extreme. What lime more fitting than this for a man to liberate himself from imprisonment? Harris determined to go through the shutter to the lightning rod, and let himself down to the roof of the court house, then continuing his hold on the rod to descend to the ground, a total distance from the starting point of about forty-five feet.

The wife of the prisoner, who had been admitted to his place of confinement, was with him upon this occasion, and between them the attemjit to escape by this means was debated long and earnestly. Liberty was sweet and life precious, vet while undertaking to secure the one he might lose the other. The desire to proceed with the undertaking was about ecjually balanced by the resolve to abandon it. Finally, overcoming all fear, he bade farewell to his wife and started out amidst the drenching rain and the blinding flashes of the lightning to the rod which was to lead him to liberty. He could hear, as he afterwards stated, the lightning skip along the rod. At the west end of the cupola a portion of this rod was discernable as long as the old court house stood in the public square.

Harris seized the rod and proceeded sailor fashion, hand over hand, and soon reached the roof. So far so good, and yet only a small portion of his journey had been accomplished.

The fear that the electric current passing down tbe rod niiujht injure him seemed to deter him ; the belief that the guard in the hallway might hear his movements caused his heart to flutter ; but the die was cast, and he could not now retrace his steps. Seizing the rod once more he crawled cautioush" down the roof, over the eave of the house, and stepped off the roof on to the sill of a window on the west end of the hall. A glance at the other i^nd of the hall, as the lightning illuminated it, satisfied him that the guards were asleep, and that his journey thus far had been safely accomplished. It was sixteen feet from the window to the ground, and once on tcrru lirma he departed as speedily as possible from the localitv.

When he was put in prison he had been manacled with handcuffs and chains upon his ankles. It is said that his wife in entering his room had taken with her an old case knife, which served the purpose of sawing in two the chains between his hands and between his feet, and that she also furnished him with a shawl which she had worn on that occasion and wrapped his legs for the purpose of protecting them from the rod as he climbed down over the roof.

When the morning arrived and the SheritY and his guards came to get their prisoner great astonishment and chagrin seized them when they discovered that their bird had flown. The unlooked-for manner in which he had escaped filled them with confusion and shame which it is impossible to describe.

Harris had been originally arrested in Henry county and had escaped from the officers and fled to Madison count}-, where he was concealed by some friends for a time. He was arrested by Sheriff Allen and detained in confinement in the old court house, as described, until such time as he could be safely returned to New Castle and delivered to the officers of the law. He was recaptured and brought from Cincinnati to New Castle. He was there convicted of the crime for which he was arrested, and was thence taken by the sheriff and his deputy to the State's prison at Jeft'erson ville, Ind., in a twohorse wagon, taking several days to make the trip. Here he served a term of two years, the period for whicii he was sentenced.

Harris never returned to this part of the country to live. In the year 1863, some Madison county soldiers of an Indiana regiment, while on detached duty in Kentucky stopped for a brief season near Cvnthiana, and in mingling with the citizens, one of them became accjuainted with an old, gray-haired man, stoop-shouldereil and slow of conversation. After a brief interview, the old man asked the soldier if he was from Madison county. On receiving an afKrinative reply, he made himself known. It was Harris, the man who had, over twenty 3'ears before, on that dark, stormy night, made his successful escape by the lightning rod. He related the particulars of liis escape to the soldier ; how he had retreated on the night in question, and had gone to the residence of a brother who lived north of Anderson, who assisted him in relieving himself from his handcuffs and chains, and that they were hidden in an old hollow stump on his brother's farm. On his release from the State's prison he had gone to Kentucky, where he had made his home ever since. He said that he had sown his wild oats and had settled down to be a sturdy- and steady citizen ; that he had reared a respectable family and had accumulated a competency for the remainder of his days. He said he enjoyed the respect of the community in which he lived. Harris died about the close of the rebellion. His relatives in Madison county were all highly respectable people. He had a brother who at one time represented the countv in the Indiana legislature.

James Hollingswortii was then deputy sheritf of Madison county and stood guard around the court house the night that Harris made his escape.

Held The Fokt

In the year 185t) Peter H. Lemon, once a promineat citizen of Madison county, was elected clerk of the Madison circuit court, and served four years. Shortly alter his election the question was raised as to his eligibility. He \vas elected as a Democrat and it seems that the Anderson Sia/nhird and a number of the leading Democrats of the county were of the opinion that he was not eligible. The S/aiidord oCSliiy ,Sth, 1857, says in relation to the matter : '' A rumor, to which we at first gave little attention, has within a few weeks been gaining currency in some parts of the countv, particularly the most southern townships, to the effect that the present incumbent of the clerk's oftice, Peter H. Lemon, is said to be constitutionally ineligible. The Republicans will now secretly nominate a candidate and vote for him, conseijuently if there is no opposing candidate he will be elected and will then proceed to oust Mr. Lemon. We therefore deem it prudent and right to warn the Democracv of the dantjer bvstatinsr the real facts in the case. The constitution of the state of Indiana has the following provision: ' Xo person elected to any judicial office shall during the term for which he shall have been elected be eligible to any office of trust or profit under the State other than the judicial office until his commission expires.' Mr. Lemon having been elected Justice of the Peace and his commission having not expired at the time of his election as Clerk the classification in the constitution makes him clearly ineligible.'' It seems that the editor of the Stainhu-J had no feeling against Mr. Lemon other than stated in his editorial article with the belief the opposite party could under the constitution name a candidate at the next election who could claim the Clerk's office by right of the provision of the constitution above quoted.

Several leading Democrats, prominent among whom was Samuel W. Hill, who was at that time a practicing attorncv, upheld the position taken by the StaiidarJ , and in several communications in that journal advised the partv to make a nomination and run a candidate in the next election to fill the oflice. JSIany of the Republicans sided with Mr. Lemon, prominent among whom was John Davis. A continual warfare was kept up until the election had passed liv and !Mr. Lemon safely held his office. Peter H. Lemon was not the sort of man who could be scared by a small matter like this. lie was considerable of a factor in politics himself, and wielded a ready pen. It will be seen by the files of the newspapers of that day that he took ample care of himself in the contest. It was secretly passed around from mouth to mouth by many of his political opponents that a candidate would be placed in the field and elected to take his place before his term of office expired, which never came about, owing largelv to the shrewd kind of warfare which Mr. Lemon made. It may be here further stated that Peter H. Lemon and Albert J. Ross were the only two persons ever elected to an office in Madison county, who filled their terms, being clearly ineligible at the time. Mr. Ross was elected sheriff of the county in 187:i, under the provision of the constitution similar to that of Mr. Lemon. He had been elected but a short time prior to his nomination as Sherifl", to the office of Justice of the Peace of Duck Creek township, and had resigned tlie otfice. and but one or two persons in the county gave the matter a thought, and but little was said about it until ^Ir. Ross" term of office

In rummaging amont; a lot of old papers, hunting dates and material tor this work, the writer unearthed a story told by some old settler over the name of" T.", in which he recounts the tragic end of an Indian near the city of Anderson on the ground now occupied by the beautiful suburb of Shadeland. The details of this narrative are as follows : In the spring of 1827 four Indians, three of the Miami and one of the Pottawattamie tribe, left their homes upon Eel river, north of Logansport, for a hunt on Big Lick, a stream meandering through the southern iiart of JMadison county, in the neighborhood of Fall Creek and Adams townships. Deer, raccoon, .squirrel and other game were very plentiful in those days, and the work of the hunter, was generally well rewarded. At this season of the year, when the leaves were about the size of a squirrel's ear, and the spring was just ready to don its green coat of verdure, hundreds of hunters, both white and Intlian, would betake themselves to the streams for hunting and fishing.

Two of t!ie Miami Indians above named were designated as "Jim" and "George Buckwheat." On the way to the hunting ground the partv stopped at " Andersontown " and purchased ammunition and fire water, the latter article being more familiarly known among the pale faces as whisky. They then proceeded leisurely south to their intended hunting place and remained two weeks, during which they enjoyed the sport of hunting, not forgetting at the same time to indulge in liberal potations of -- fire water." *

These four Imlians Ijecame invohed in a quarrel, whicii ended in blows and a general fight. ^\ taunting remark was made by George Buckwheat to the Pottawattamie, wiio considered his character as being slandered, and immediately seiicing a tomahawk struck Buckwheat a blow on the head which knocked him lifeless to the ground. This act soon brought the two remaining Indians to a condition of sobriety, and a feeling of rage look possession of |im Buckwheat when lu; saw the dead body of his brother. A grave was dug, into which the bod}- was lowered, and after tobacco and a tomahawk had been deposited with it. was covered up, and tiie

The quarrel between Jim Buckwheat and the ihiyer of his brother was, however, kept up with much bitterness for several hours along the route of their return. Gradually it began to dawn upon the mind of the Pottawattamie that he had done wrong, and the only way to appease the wrath of the Miamis, which was then the leading tribe of the Northwest, and to preserve his honor as a brave warrior among his own, was to oflfer up iiis life as an atonement. He accordingly concluded to do so at once. The party reached a strip of \voods where the Ben Thomas farm is now situated, about one mile west of Anderson. Here, the Pottawattamie, after singing a death song, and offering up a prayer to the Great Spirit, folded his arms across his breast, and requested Jim Buckwheat to shoot him. Pacing off some fifty steps, and taking deliberate aim with his riile, Buckwheat fired and the Pottawattamie fell to the earth a corpse. The deed was done, and Indian honor avenged, according to the aboriginal idea, by the death of this warrior.

After informing the whitesof what had occurred, and the reason therefor, the two survivors mounted their ponies, leaving the dead unburied, and soon disappeared in the forest. Tlie white settlers dug a grave near the tree where he was killed and buried him. Old timers living here then have frequently asserted that the moss on the north side of this tree assumed the exact face and head of an Indian. So strongly was this afhrined, and just as strongly ridiculed for manv years that finalh' a man of the name of Harris, well known in Anderson at the time, quietly proceeded to the spot and cut down the tree, and thus stopped further discussion.

A few years subsequent to this event, one Dr. Roe started a plirenological publication in Anderson, and would occasionally deliver lectures on phrenology. To illustrate his points it was necessaiT to have a skull, and he proceeded ciuietlv to the grave of the forgotten Pottawattamie, and unceremoniously took thereform the skull which had once belonged to the noble red man. This he used in his lectures as long as he remained here, and when he left, it is said, took it \vith him.

Iiisiorv Ok Madisox Couxtv, Indiana

mass-meeting of citizens in the old rectanguUir ccnut house, which then occupied our public square. It was in all regards the most potential meeting ever iield in that edifice. Old and voung of all shades of political faith were present and took an eager and an active part in its deliherations, if such they may be called.

Dr. Townsend Ryan, Colonel Milton S. Robinson, Robert D. Traster, and Joseph Buckles, of Muncie, (the latter being then Circuit Judge) and many less conspicuous persons spoke. It is needless to say there were no two opinions - (it would not have been healthy) - expressed by any one on the subject then uppermost in the minds of old and young of both sexes. Nearly every man and youth present who was eligible for

There were 18() volunteers and a company was at once organized, and \V. R. Myers was elected captain but declined and suggested the name of Iliram T. \'andeyender, assigning as a reason that \'ande\ender was two inches taller than any man in the company. It is needless to say that the spirit which then actuated the \olunteers, was not the same that prevailed a year later. The question then was not whoshoukl be officers, but on the contrary it was who could inost promptly respond to tlie call for troops for the suppression of the rebellion, which Secretary of State Seward assured the coutitrv would be done in ninety dav*. The result was that II. T. Vandevender was, oxer his protest, elected captain, ^\'. R. IMyers, first lieutenant, L. D. McCallister, second lieutenant, and Hampton H. Dula, third lieutenant.

Colonel N. Berry and Judge Starkey were conspicuous in giving assistance in the organization of the company ; Colonel Berry having served in the Mexican war as a quartermaster, and Judge Starkey liaving served a five years' enlistment as a Seargent Major in the regular arniy. It was soon learned that the office of Third Lieutenant had long been dispensed \vith, and Mr. Dula found himself an enlisted man, which not in the least emharrassed him.

After the business for which this memorable meeting had been called was disposed of, Mr. S. B. Mattox (then county recorder) made a speech in which he called the attention of the meeting to the fact that one Henry V. Clinton, who afterward achieved a wide reputation of an unsavory character, was living with Mr. Berryman Shafer (who then owned and lived on what is now the county poor farm), and had been there for several months. 'Sir. Clinton was from the State of Louisiana and though his deportment in the community uji to that time had been that of a thorough gentleman, it was an easy task, owing to the fevered condition of the public mind, to rouse the imagination of the audience to believe that Mr. Clinton was an emissary from the South, with secret powers for evil against the government. Matto.x's speech was followed by Samuel Waldon, then sixtv years old, who posed as an " old Californian,"' and knew exactl}' how to tie a hangman's noose, claiming to ha\e had experience in that gentle pastime, as a member of the " Regulators " of the Pacific slope in the earlj- fifties. Other speakers followed, all ui^ging the necessity of immediately ridding the county and State of Mr. Clintons presence. Mattox ottered a resolution, authorizing a committee to wait on Mr. Clinton that nigiit and give him twenty-four hours in which to absent himself from the State.

This resolution was adopted with much enthusiasm and in less than an hour anywhere from fifty to one hundred men and bo)-s were on the road to Mr. Shafer's home. The old "bus" was engaged, and buggies and carriages were brought into requisition, while many were on horseback : saddle horses and equipments were much more numerous then than now. The night was clear and beautifully star-lit. With wild whoops and hurrahs, tlie excited body of insane humaninsT<IU\' III-' MADISON COt'XrV, INDIANA. 1(1 ity made its way to Mr. Sliafer's lioine, via Chesterfichl. Ft ^vas probal)ly twelve o'clock in the night when thej- brought up in front of the quiet, dignified home of Mr. Shafer, who was vociferously called out ; he promptlv responded and standing in the door in his night clothes, calmly incjuired the occasion of this nocturnal visit. Mattox, Traster and VValdon were a self-constituted committee to wait upon Mr. Clinion. Others of the more rabid members of the party insisted on going in, but Mr. Shafer firmly protested against a crowd entering his house at so unseasonable an hour, but readily consented to admitting the above named gentlemen. He protested that he was a law abiding citizen, and that Mr. Clinton was the same, and was in his room in bed, where he intimated all the party ought to be. This very natural and just remark caused threats against Mr. Shafer, who immediately admitted the committee and conducted them to Mr. Clinton's room, which was on the second floor. It is needless to say that Mr. Shafer felt himself greatly outraged, which in fact he was, and Mr. Clinton was very much alarmed, though he was cool and self possessed. He sat up in bed while .Matto.x read the resolution to him, and excitedly and in language far from polite, demanded that Mr. Clinton should leave the county instanter. More moderate counsel prevailed. howc\er, and it was agreed that Clinton could remain until morning, at wliich time he assured them he would take his ileparture. He protested that he had left Louisiana, his native State, to avoid taking part in the threatened rebellion, and had hoped to find a kindlier hospitaiitv than he was then receiving, but piomised to go to Canada on the first train east the ne.xt day. Tliis satisfied the committee, and also the crowd, a majority of whom hail no sympathy with the self-constituteil committee, many of whom had given their presence to the transaction for the sole purpose of seeing that no gross or brutal wrongs were perpetrated.

It was not until all this had transpired that the name of David Shafer was mentioned or thought of. Shafer had been absent for some months, or possibly longer, in Missouri, and had returneil only a short time before that e\ening. He luid, in the meantime, given vent to some very radical expressions, indicating a strong sympaths' with the South. No sooner was his name mentioned than, by common consent, the entire crowd headed for his home, which was north of Chesterlield. On arri\ing near his home, which was a one-story log hou-e.

but little removed from :i cabin, the party halted and consulted as to the best mode of making their nearer approach. It was soon arranged that a delegation of half a dozen should go to the house and call him up and interview him as to the condition of his mind on the then all-important question of his lovalty to the government. Will Mays, who will be remembered by the older citizens of Anderson as a jolly, good-natured fellow and a great wag, was the spokesman of the party. They knocked and Shafer responded promptly in his night-clothes with a good-sized revolver in his hand. The party represented themselves as fugitives from one of the border States, and that they had been directed to him by some prominent man in Indianapolis, as a person in sympathy with their cause, and, further, that he was quietly recruiting a companv for the Southern army. This fTattered his inordinate vanitv, and he assured them, with great gravity, tliat such was a fact. He hospitably offered them such shelter and accommodations as he had, and assured them their services would be accepted. In the meantime he had donned his clothes, as the parley lasted some fifteen or twenty minutes. One of the party stole away from him in the darkness and reported to the crowd the substance of his conversation. The house was promptly surrounded and " Dave '" and iiis partv of supposed rebel visitors were captured without resistance, the capturing partv alleging that they had been following the visitors all night. Mays pretended to be very much scared, and begged most piteously for clemencv.

The capturing crowd insisted that thev all had to be hung before morning. Shafer argued his constitutional rights and declared he had come home for the sole purpose of entering the Union army, as lie knew when he left Missouri there was going to be war. This resulted in an agreement to take the prisoners to town and give them a trial. They were all hustled in the " "bus '' and headed for town, - Dave soon braced up and became very defiant. Finally when the partv reached wliat was then known as the " Billy Spark's farm."" just north of Anderson, the crowd agreed that if Dave and his fellow prisoners would take the oath ot allegiance thev would let them go ; to this all consented but Dave, who held out firmly and swore that he was in sight of the court house, the temple of justice, and he would not be forced to take the oath as he was always loyal to the constitution, and to take such an oath would be an adiriSTOKY OK MADISON COUNTY, INDIANA. ] i i) mission tliat lie was not loyal. Mattox, Traster, Waldon and Joseph McKinnon were the men that had the hanijing in hand, and they placed the rope round Shat'er's neck and threw one end over the limb of a locust tree and pulled until " Dave '' began to choke ; the crowd then protested, and when they gave him another talk on the subject of taking the oath and he refused, they pulled again, when Jacob Hubbard, who was then a splendid specimen of physical manhood and quite an expert boxer, interposed and soon persuaded them to unloose Shafer and let him go. By this time dav was dawning and the part}' dispersed to their homes. This is the story of the hanging of Dave Shafer as recalled b}- an eye witness.

In many respects David Shafer was one of the most unique and eccentric characters Madison county ever produced. He was such a character as Dickens never had met, else lie would certainly have given him a place in his immortal galaxy.

He was a Hercules in stature and physical strength. Aggressive and domineering, his virulent tongue frequently got him into personal altercations. He was for many years constantly in litigation over some tri\'ial matter, and was a terror to lawyers, with whom he soon disagreed, and it is safe to say that he was at some time the undesirable client of every attorney in the county. After the death of his father, who was an honest, exemplary man, he laid claims to the whole of his father's real estate, and for years he was in court, during all of which time he lost no opportunity of denouncing his brothers, who were all very respectable, hard-working men.

He \vas illiterate, yet he had most of the New Testament and much of the old Bible committed to memory, and could repeat it by the hour. He was an ardent Democrat and never wearied in talking politics. He knew the Declaration of Independence by heart and also the Constitution of the United States, and his application of both his biblical and political learning was frequently amusing and grotesque.

He was naturally a mechanic, and without the aid of any one he built a very respectable two-story frauie house on the farm he recovered from his father's estate. He laid the foundation, built the chimneys, did all the carpenter work and painted and plastered it ; he was over two years in performing the task. Much of his time was spent in tramping through the country repairing clocks and such other tinkering jobs as he could get. The least bit of hospitality shown him was sure to be abused, and many of the older citizens remember his visit.?, not as pleasant ont's, dotting the misty past, but as horrid nightmares; and when he took his leave the host, and especially the hostess, could truthfully say, '' There is nothing I will more willingly part withal." He died in ISS;"), in his lonely home unattended, on a bed of straw on the floor, and his remains were buried in a neighboring cemetery. Peace to his ashes, and mav his turbulent spirit iiave reached a iiaven of rest.