Randolph County, Indiana - Chapter 7: Reminiscences, 1882 (part 3 of 4)

The tools for farm work at first were exceedingly simple. An ax, an iron wedge, a mattock and a maul, and a big " nigger hoe," an old-fashioned single shovel plow, and a barshare plow with an iron share, a coulter in front and a wooden moldboard, and a harrow made of wood, teeth and all. These were all they had till about 1829. About that time, John Way began to make the front part of the moldboard of iron, some of which would scour, and these were used till about 1834, when Horney, of Richmond, made a cast-iron moldboard and share. And, in 1845, Beard & Sinex brought forward the steel moldboard. About 1830, John Mansur, of Richmond, sold cast-steel axes, and about 1835, the Collins' patent came. About 1840, Gaar & Co. produced the four-horse power chaff-piler threshing machine, and later the eight-horse power separator came to hand - the Pitts, from Buffalo, for instance.

In 1836, there was only one open buggy in Ward Township, and one top buggy, Edward Edger having the former and Widow Kinnear the latter. Reapers and mowers, hay rakes, corn planters, nor even simple corn-markers, had any of them come into use in 1855, when Mr. Mock left Randolph County for the West. The first cook stoves in Randolph were brought by Edward Edger to Deerfield in 1838, one for himself and cne for Mrs. Kinnear. They weighed 600 pounds each and cost $50, besides the hauling from Cincinnati, which was alargesum. Roads there were none in those early times, only perhaps that they were cut out somewhat; and the travel went anywhere among the trees and stumps, with mud in the wet season two feet deep, even as late as 1855, when he left for Illinois. Mr. M. started from Deerfield June 10, 1855, in a wagon with as good a span of horses as could be found in the county, with himself and wife and three small children and two trunks, perhaps 600 pounds in all, and it was all they could do to get through to Winchester. At least a mile of the corduroy was afloat or under water. There were too "little showers "' that day, in which the rain fell five inches deep.

Mr. Mock relates that he once shot a horse belonging to one of the settlers by the name of Cox in the White River Settlement, east of Winchester, in mistake for a deer. Mock was young, and he was greatly alarmed. He went to Mr. Cox and told him. '*So thee has killed my horse.'' " Yes." | ** And thee thought it was a deer.' 'I did.'' '' And thee wishes to pay me for the horse.'' 'It would be no more than right that I should, I suppose." '' Well, John, I guess I'll not charge thee anything for the horse.'' And then Mock felt mightily relieved.

One of the old settlers (who might be named, but will not be, as he is yet alive) came to mill one morning and bought a drink of whisky. In undertaking to swallow it, he threw it up twice, but, catching it in the glass, he kept turning it down, exclaiming the third time he swallowed it (with an oath), "Stay down; whisky costs too much money to be wasted that way." And it stayed at last.

Jacob Voris was a butcher and a grocer and a baker. He made great quantities of gingerbread, that wonderful ' nicknack"' of olden time. The chaps had a song about it, one stanza of which ran thus:

At one time they had a spelling match at the school west of Deerfield under William Shoemaker as teacher. They spelled from the dictionary, which was the first time Mock had ever seen a book of the kind. It scared him out. He thought it was of no use to try to spell from that.

Charles Crist

When we moved to Hancock County, Ohio, there was but one house within three miles of where we built our cabin. It was January, and the snow was eight inches deep in the woods. My family stayed at that house, and we (brother and myself) tramped back and forth night and morning, to build my cabin, and we could get only two other men (four in all) to help raise it. It was small, fourteen by sixteen, and just high enough to stand up in. When we moved in, it was chinked, but not daubed ; had neither chimney, nor floor, and no door (only a hole for one). We built a big log-heap fire to cook and warm by for two or three days, till we got a fire-place and chimney made, and we hung upa quilt for a door. There were only three or four houses then at Fort Findlay. There was one store; the two men that kept it were so poor that they had only one coat between them, and they brought their goods on packhorses. We were as happy then as ever in our lives. The Indians lived on their '' Reserve,"' between Findlay and Upper Sandusky (about twelve miles away). They used often to pass as they were hunting - Wyandots and others. They are gone now, except some who live like white people. I have stayed many a night with the Indians. They lived well; the half-breeds, especially were intelligent and industrious.

"« For some years, we had to go to mill to Perrysburg (Fort Meigs), on the Maumee River, across the "Black Swamp." That "Black Swamp'' was a terrible place. We would take three yoke of oxen, and twenty-five bushels of grain, and cross the swamp, eighteen miles, and then go fifteen miles farther to the mill. The trip would take us twelve days, sometimes going only two or three miles a day. We crossed at what was "' Hull's Trace," and the places were still there where Hull's soldiers cut brush, and little trees, and fixed and wove them together, to make places to keep them out of the mud and water as they slept at night The mud was black and deep - how deep I do not know. Large rocks were scattered in many places through the swamp.

"At another swamp in that country, there was a "crossing" made of rails, for a road, and the swamp would shake for several rods on each side, as a wagon passed along the track, and if a horse or ox got off the rails, he would sink into the mire so that he could not get out, only as he was hauled out. 'The " Black Swamp '"' has since been drained, and the farms there are among the very best. This swamp extended a great distance, perhaps 150 miles. As we traveled across it, we slept in the wagon, and would tie one ox to the wagon, and turn the rest out to feed. The surface away from the track was firm enough for cattle to walk on, and feed upon the weeds and bushes. I was at Lower Sandusky when the cholera prevailed' The emigrants going West died there in great numbers. I saw them lying dead around, I cannot tell how many. I got a load of salt to take to Findlay, and as I went to get some buckwheat straw to stuff round my barrels, I found several corpses lying covered in the straw.

"We lived in Marion County, Ohio, when the " stars fell,'' November, 1833. Some people that worked the next day in a deep well saw the "stars falling' all the next day also. In a deep well in Baltimore County, Md., eighty-four feet deep, which I cleaned out, I saw distinctly the stars from the bottom of the well. In Hancock County, Ohio, Mrs. Crist saw a "'ball of fire'"' fall to the ground, and explode in all directions. I, myself, saw, one night, one fall not fifty yards off. It struck the ground aud burst, and the fire flew every way. The light was bright enough to see to pick up a pin. It seemed as large as a man's hat, and burst as it struck. I have bought cornmeal at $1 a bushel that was so musty it was green, and that smelt so strong you could smell it several feet from the wagon, and we were glad to get even that ! I used to split rails at 20 cents a hundred, and to work at 40 cents a day.

"The first spring, I cleared up five acres for corn. A good crop grew, but the birds and ''varmints"' mostly ate it up. I used to kill squirrels, and coons, and turkeys, so many that I did not take the trouble to pick them up. 'The turkeys would come twenty or thirty in a flock."

Thomas Middleton

"T came to Indiana with $3 anda rifle-gun. I have been greatly afflicted; had much sickness. Have seven times been sick expecting to die; yet I am eighty-one years old, and in moderate, though feeble, health. I have paid thousands of dollars for doctors' bills. I was sick, when a boy, and I am sick in the same way yet. My back was hurt when I was a small child, and it hurts me still. I have had the piles and the gravel from early youth. I was ruptured in 1826, which remains till now. Dr. Ruby made thirty visits from Bethel at one time. I took my wife and walked and led the mare to Richmond. My wife stayed six weeks, and got no relief. She came home and lived till October. My second wife was visited once a day for seventy days. I once sent for Dr. Warner, who prescribed for my case. Said he: "When this medicine is gone, come and see me." I went, and he charged me $1.50, and said: 'You can't be cured. Some doctors will say: 'We can cure you,' but all they wish is a dzg dzil ; they can run that up on you fast enough." I was at one time greatly troubled with the gravel, and Dr. Morgan tried to ease me. He injected morphine into my side, which seemed to give relief. I had been almost raving and wild with pain from Wednesday morning till sometime Sunday.

Elisha T. Bailey

'Dr. Silvers used to live near Ridgeville: He and his cousin, when small boys, were captured by the Indians, and lived and traveled with them for many years (1811 and onward) from Vincennes to Muncie, Greenville, Ft. Wayne, etc.

"Dr. Silvers used to say there was a spot on Nolan's Fork, under a knotty walaut tree (he thinks on the farm of John Thomas, one of the first settlers), where the Indians had buried money. The doctor has gone, in later years, and dug to find if; whether he succeeded or not, probably no mortal knows.

"On Green's Fork, he said, an old Indian buried a lot of money, and the doctor spent months in hunting for it, but whether he found that or not no one ever knew. but himself.

'"' The Indians used to have copper kettles (gotten in trade with the English or the French), and settlers have found some of them. Mr. Frazier, on Green's Fork, found one in early times."

William M. Locke

'"'The first preaching was about 1833. We joined in 1834, in Mr. McKim's barn. Camp-meetings were held a little west of town three different seasons. The preachers in charge were Revs. Hall, Bruce and Smith. Large numbers joined the church.

"A Mr. Manning died near the camp ground. He had been sick, and was feeling better, and he wished so much to attend meeting, that he went before he was able, and by the excitement and the night air he took a relapse, and was dead before they got him home.

'There had been a little mill where Jessup's mill was afterward built, but it was gone. The 'Quaker Trace" had been cut out, but as you went farther north, the track went ''all over the woods,"' over saplings, round logs and ponds, ete.

'"' John Alexander used to tell how, in high water, the cattle would get on the bridges, and the puncheons would be floating, and the oxen would get their legs between the puncheons, and the teamsters would unyoke the cattle and let them swim out. How the wagons were got across cannot be stated. Old Thornton Alexander and his boys (colored) used to wagon regularly to Ft. Wayne."

"«When I was alad, thirteen years old, Iwent with father to Fort Wayne, with twoyoke of oxen and a wagon ; and he worked there two weeks. When about to start for home, father found & man who was going to Logansport, and father waited, went with him, taking the oxen and wagon, and sending me home by the "Quaker Trace," alone. It took me five days to make the journey. It was a lonely trip, and I camped out several nights. Father, in coming home, lay out the last night. There was a heavy snowfall, and he spread the blanket over him and raked the snow on and around him to keep him warm.

'* At one time, Thomas Shalor, whose home was near Camden, Jay County, Ind., came to mill, and after bacon, etc., with a wagon and two yoke of oxen. As he started home, in passing a drain bridged with poles, an ox got a leg between the poles, and broke it. Mr. 8. came back for help, and hired me (a boy fourteen years old) to take a yoke of oxen and help him through. As we were crossing the "' maple slash," in Jay County, the oxtongue broke. It was in winter, and the snow was six inches deep. Shaler went to Mr. Welch's, four miles off, to get help and tools. He returned after dark with an ax and an auger and two men. Joseph Hawkins (another boy, fourteen years old) and myself took the 'back tracks" of the men, getting to Mr. Welch's after midnight, nearly chilled through. She got up (the woman was in bed), and gave us some "corn dodger," and it was good, sure. The men came with the wagon and team, near daylight, with feet badly frost-bitten. After breakfast, Shalor and I went on, getting to Philip Brown's for dinner (corn bread and venison) - near Liber - and staying at Judge Winters' that night. In the morning, we cut the ice and crossed the Salimony, and went on through the thick woods, there being no road; and away in the night we got within half a mile of Shalor's cabin; but there was a creek and ice, and the oxen would not cross; so we tied them to the wagon, and, shouldering some meal and bacon, footed it to the cabin. But that cabin was a sight. No daubing, no chinking, no floor, no fireplace, no chimney ; fire in the middle of the cabin, and the house filled with smoke. The woman got up, cooked us some meat and gave us some dodger, and we lay down. That woman and her four little girls had been there alone for more than a week, and were out of food. [See J. Hawkins' statement.] The next morning I started for home with the cattle. I had passed Judge Winters' about 1 P. M., whenI met father, with Mr. Lewallyn and Mr. McCartney, hunting me. We got home about midnight, I having been absent five days.

'' At another time, a horse had strayed. He was " spanciled,"' and I "trailed" him. I had on a rimless straw hat, and no coat nor vest, but simply tow shirt and pants, and was barefooted. I followed the trail to near Huntsville, stayed all night with a '"' Dunkard,"' and the next morning went with him to a " woods meeting.'' 'The preacher made inquiry, and a man came and told me he had seen such a horse, and.where. The horse had been raised at Connersville, and seemed to be heading thither. I went to Connersville, Cambridge City, Milton, Jacksonsburg, Waterloo, etc., but no horse could I find, and so I set out for home. I met father near Maxville, hunting for me. I told him what the man had said, and he went and found the horse in that neighborhood. I had somehow missed him. My travels had been one hundred miles or more, and lasted seven days. At Waterloo they thought me a runaway apprentice, and were about to arrest me as such; but a man there happened to know my father and myself, and they let me go. And truly I was a sight to behold, and my story, though true, was entirely unlikely, and people would not believe me.

"« Flatboating was a great business in those times. We used to steer the boats down the river over the dams, etc., to the Wabash, or elsewhere, and then go home on foot. Once, five of us were hired to take five boats down, all lashed together. We got through all safe, got our pay twenty miles below Marion, and '"'put'' for Randolph. We struck south for the road (what there was), and so to Marion. Billy Gray said, '' Boys, this makes my thirteenth trip. I always had plenty of company at the start, but none when I got home."' We set forth that day for "' keeps."' The next day, Billy Gray was not well, but he warmed up and left us. We had to wade waist-deep that day to cross a stream. The next day he went ahead again, but we passed him before he reached Fairview. Gray stayed at Elijah Thomas', south of Fairview. Addington stayed at Caylor's Tavern, Roe came home, three miles from Ridgeville, and I got home to Ridgeville at midnight, having traveled that day more than fifty miles, often wading, and in places waist deep."

James Porter

'George Porter, my brother, came out in the spring of 1829, and raised crops, and then came back and moved his family to Randolph, three or four weeks before I arrived there.

"' There was a mill at Ridgeville, when I came. Henry Hinchy built a water-millon the Mississinewa, after a while, for corn and wheat, bolted by machinery, in (about) 1844.

'* We used to go to meeting (M. E.), at Riley Marshall's house, near (what is now) Prospect Meeting-House. Mrs. P. used to go afoot and "tote" the baby - three miles. Mrs. Porter used to be greatly afraid of the Indians, though they never injured her. Travelers would often pass from Winchester to the '' Quaker Trace.'' We were glad to see them and have them stay over night.

a The Brockuses would drink and fight. Their wives were fine women, but the men used them badly. They would not work, but would go off hunting or running about. The women would be at home with nothing to eat. y

'"'T went three times to Cincinnati to enter land - forty acres each time - afoot, except, partly, the second time. Then I rode a colt to Hamilton, and sold it there for $35 cash, to enter land with. I had been offered $100, credit, for the horse at home, but I was in a hurry to enter my land, for fear somebody else would get it before me. I went afoot to Cincinnati, and home again.

'"« Thomas Shaler lived in a cabin on this place (and his brother; but they moved off). He had been here three or four years. Samuel Emery came in 1826. He lived in Ward Township, two miles down the Mississinewa. Allen Wall lived close by Emery's. There were no more between here and Deerfield, on the Mississinewa. Daniel B. Miller and Riley Marshall lived near Prospect Meeting-House, east of Deerfield. Philip Storms lived near drew Debolt lived at Mount Holly. William Simmons had been here, had gone away to Blue River, and he came again in 1830. Messrs. Keys, Hodge, Manus and Fields lived south of here.

'"Thomas Devor and Mr. Beach, Jacob Johnson, Joseph Sutton, James Wickersham, Amos Smith, Thomas Wiley and John Hoke came after a while. John Skinner and James Skinner came also."

Willis C. Willmore

" Before I was five years old, I remember being at my grandfather Harrison's; I was with some black boys tramping clothes in a big trough. My uncles made me popguns, and gave me slices of toast from the plate before the fire. When five years old, father took me to his new home, and my new mother.

'"* As I got to the gate, I ran into the house, and the first thing I knew I was in my stepmother's lap. Father settled among the Blue Ridge Mountains. A part of the farm was creek bottoms, the rest was on the mountains. Some of the surface was very steep, so that it could be cultivated. The sloping land had to be plowed one way, and some could not be plowed at all; and that which was too steep to be plowed was cultivated entirely with the hoe. The stones and the hoe would often meet, and several hoeing together would make lively music. The mountains were full of bears, wolves, panthers, wild cats and snakes. Rattlesnakes and copperheads were the most dreaded. Our nearest neighbor was a mile distant. We could see no house but our own. Many days would pass with a sight of none but our own family. The pasture was fine in the mountains and ravines, and ready in March. The cows would come to their calves for three or four months, and then they had to be hunted. I was the cowboy, and often night would find me in the mountains calling the cows. 'The hair would well-nigh stand on end for fright while driving them over rocks and hills, and through laurel thickets, not knowing when I might meet a wild beast or tread on a snake. One night, two of my brothers, out coon-hunting, came home at daylight, and said the dogs were baying a bear in the mountain close by. We went with the gun to find the den. I walked to its mouth, the bear met me and passed without a word of "' How-d'ye," or '' Good bye.'' I crawled in and captured three cubs and took them home.

Another night, John and I were hunting in a strange place. John fell from a cliff; I huggedatree. At dawn we were at the edge of a precipice over a stream.

One time, going home from picking whortleberries, we came upon three huge rattlesnakes lying in the sun. We cut three long forked sticks, and put them over their necks, and I held down their heads with a short fork, and cut them off with my pocket-knife. We did this to prevent their biting themselves, because we wanted theozl. We dragged our snakes two and a half miles to get them home. When I was skinning one of them the headless neck drew back and stood in the attitude to strike, and gave a forward blow as if to bite. My brother laughed at me years afterward for being bitten by a rattlesnake without a head.

"In the valley where I was born, in the Blue Ridge, the sun would shine far up the western heights long ere we could see its disk above the eastern hills, and long before night, moreover, it had sunk behind the mountain tops. In that rugged country, work began at daylight, and at 9 A. M., the horn blew for breakfast, and at 2 or 3 o'clock for dinner, which was the last meal. The work kept on from dawn till dark, and in winter cotton had to be picked till 9 or 10 o'clock at night.

The hills were very steep, so much so that often we were obliged to "tote" things a long way to where they could be '"'hauled."" One day I was driving a cart, and, though several were holding it, over it went - load and all. Luckily the "overturn" did little damage, so we loaded up again and went on.

'TI had even in my boyhood resolved that this hard and broken land was '"'not the land for me." I had heard of that fair, level, rich country in the Northwest, beyond the beautiful Ohio, and I determined to find it, and view its glories for myself. And in due time the opportunity came. Father had met with losses and went to Ohio to find a new home. Meanwhile, I remained behind to settle his business, and a hard and tiresome task it was, indeed. In performing the work, I walked more than a thousand miles, and rode hundreds of miles besides.

Once we 'ran off' a tract of land overflowed by a violent rain, riding on horseback and using poles instead of pegs. The survey had to be made, and the surveyor would not do it, and so we did.

When all was done that I could do there for father, I moved stepmother with eight children to the ''Great West," finding father in Gallia County, Ohio, in which region he made his new home. So here [ was in the wonderful Northwest, and I had come to stay. I had bidden the rough and rugged mountains a long, long farewell. I had found the forest plains of which I had dreamed so often and so fondly. In Ohio I married, and, after four years, made my way to Wayne County, Ind.; and after a brief sojourn there, we pitched our tent under the green beeches of Randolph.

"But the West was not without its hardships also. wearisome, and money was scarce. 'I'wenty-five cents a day (cash) was reckoned fair wages. Fifty cents in ''dicker"' was easier to get than half that amount in money.

I chopped and split rails from heavy oak timber for 25 cents a hundred and my board. Everything (that farmers produced) was low. The first cow (and calf) I bought was for $6.50. She was three years old and very small. When I got home with her and the calf, I called to my wife, '' See here, I have brought you two calves." She looked and cried out, '' She can't raise a calf." She did though, and both of them made splendid milkers.

We bought pork at $2 net, delivered, and corn was 123 cents a bushel. I boarded a teacher, Samuel Godfrey, in Wayne County, about 1830, for 75 cents a week.

'' November 17, 1831, we moved into our cabin, and the next day it snowed. I had managed by years of hard work to get money, with which I had entered 160 acres of land, and I felt richer than a king, and hoped and expected to prosper. But, alas, disease and affliction were speedily my lot. I was doomed to crutches for life. In less than three months I was prostrated with the '"'cold plague," and I have never stood upon my feet unsupported nor walked without crutches since that hour. I lay a long time helpless, my wife rolling me over in bed. Nobody thought I would live. But here lam! When it became clear that I could not regain strength, I was alarmed at the prospect. What was to become of us? But these fears were atthat time taken away, and I clung to the promise, '" Seek first, etc." We resolved to hold together as a family, which we have done. To pine, would avail nothing. How we lived is hard to tell. '* God delivered us," is all [can say. The wheel and the loom did a brave part. When the calamity came, I was engaged in preaching to two churches. Of course I stopped. But when I had recovered so as to go on crutches, though not to sit up, I was sent for to see a sick man. The house was crowded; I lay on a pallet and pointed them to Christ. Since then, often have I, lying ona couch, in the congregation, invited sinners to repentance, and bade Christians God speed! The followers of the Lamb would meet, and sing, and pray, and I would try to preach, and the Lord was well pleased for His gracious name's sake. And many a time we were fed on heavenly manna!

I had grace to trust Him, and He sustained me. We had kind friends, and we always had enough; sometimes the bitter tear would fall, but I lifted up the eye of faith to Him who sent the ravens to feed Elijah, and to Him who, though He rules all worlds, yet had not where to lay his head! I was not disappointed. My friends have been many and kind, and with them would I live and die; and may weall rise to light, clothed in the garments of salvation !

"T was converted and joined the Baptists in 1821, was licensed in 1825, and ordained in 1830, and in 1839, when we moved to Winchester, a Baptist Church was organized for that place and region, which stood many years.

There was, at the time, a Methodist meeting-house, and there was no other. The Presbyterians began before long, and kept up an organization for ten or fifteen years, building a house for their worship, but the church was always weak, and at length became extinct.

" After I moved to Winchester, at first I wrote lying on a narrow straw bed, but mostly on my knees. The Recorder's office then was worth but little; an able-bodied man could have done the work, but I had to hire adeputy, and the profits were small. In the summer of 1847, my disease returned, and in May, 1848, I was hauled between two feather beds to where I now live. I was confined to my bed at that time for more than two years; since then I have been several times snatched from the jaws of death by the same hand- which has led me all my journey through. Like the Jews before Jordan, I look across the river and behold the blessed Canaan.

Like Moses on Mt. Pisgah's top, I view the heavenly landscape o'er, and humbly wait the appointed time when God shall set my happy spirit free, and receive my blood-washed soul to the blissful mansions of eternal rest.

'For some years I trusted in the sweet Bible promises, and was upheld in the midst of my sorrow. But, as my family cares increased, after a time I became somewhat disheartened ; my way seemed hedged up, darkness was on me, and I felt gloomy and sad. When I looked at my wife and children, and thought of their needs and my own, and my helplessness, my soul cried, " What will become of us ?"

But one Sabbath, after having been to my appointment at Concord (for I could preach though I could not stand, and had been greatly helped and strengthened in the Lord's work), I came home, and at night, when in bed, a burden of distress rolled upon my heart, and it seemed that I should be crushed; I was not asleep, it was no dream; but I saw myself struggling through deep water, and suddenly my Savior was walking by my side, and He sweetly held me up as I buffeted the waves. Deep peace fell on me, all trouble and doubt and sorrow fled, and my soul was bathed in joy unspeakable and full of glory. The holy baptism of that midnight hour has never left me; but I have been enabled to walk in the strength of the grace I then received, even to this blessed day.

A cripple bodily I have continued to be to this moment, but the ecstasy of spirit which my poor soul has many a time received from the Lord, human tongue in this world can never tell. And the good Lord is with His unworthy servant still.

The prayer of the Psalmist, ''When I am old and grayheaded, O Lord, forsake me not," has with me and mine been wonderfully answered! Near fifty years ago, I lay feeble and helpless, waiting for death to do its work upon my wretched body; and yet, here I am still, tarrying in this tabernacle of clay, patiently expecting the hour, now surely near at hand, when I shall be, "not unclothed, but clothed upon;" and mortality shall be swallowed up of life - when I shall be permitted to see the King in His beauty; when my crutches and my poor old frame shall be laid aside together, and my freed spirit shall go shouting home!"

Since the Baptist Church spoken of above went down, Mr. W. has stood outside of special church relation. But he is in full and blessed sympathy with God and all good men, and feels that all humble, penitent, God-fearing, heaven-seeking souls are his brethren and sisters. He feels too, that - "The church on earth and all the dead, But one communion make. They all have life in Christ, their Head, And of His righteousness partake."

Through the glass of faith he views from the tops of the " Delectable Mountains" the glorious sights and scenes in the New Jerusalem ; and feels that the time will not be long till he shall be among them, till he shall join the ecstatic throng; till with the spirits of the just made perfect, with the "' church of the firstborn, whose names are written in heaven," he, too, cleansed and purified, '' washed in the blood of the Lamb," shall take up the heavenly song, and swell the hallelujah chorus that rises ever from the hosts of the saved in the conrts of glory on high!

Nathan Cadwallader

'When I taught school, I did bravely, taking pupils through arithmetic, etc., where I had never been myself! The first school was by subscription, eight weeks, taught-in an old log building in Frederick Davis' field. It had once boasted a clay and puncheon fireplace, but that had been pulled down, and the chimney-place was open, like a barn door. The books were whatever each pupil brought - Bible, Testament, Life, of Washington, Life of Marion, History of England, spelling books, and so on. Each one used whatever he brought, too; 'uniformity of textbooks'"' was not in vogue in that institution, sure; of course, classification gave no trouble, but each tow-headed urchin was head, and foot too, of his own class. I had, perhaps, twenty pupils. My school was liked; my government was somewhat unique, and certainly original. One day I had two lads standing face to face, two or three feet apart, with a stick split at both ends and one end on each boy's nose; another mischievous ten-year-old I had thrown astraddle of the naked joist-pole overhead ; anda fourth luckless wight who had fallen under my magisterial displeasure, was expiating his crime by standing with his hands behind his back and his nose plump against the wall !

Just at that supreme moment of the endurance of penalty for transgressing the majesty of violated law, in popped a neighbor and patron of the school, more noted for bluntness than gentility, through the open door. He stared, first at one, then at the next, and so on, till at length as the whole ridiculous gravity of the curious situation dawned upon his mind, suddenly he broke out with a rough expression, and, sinking with his ponderous weight upon the puncheon floor, burst into a loud and uncontrollable fit of laughter. Was not that school-room a sight? '" Wholesome discipline' was at a discount at that moment of supreme ridiculousness ; and teacher, pupils and visitor all gave way together, and laughed in concert till they got tired, and quit because they could laugh no longer."

At another time, the same "school visitor"' "' cut a shine" in that (or some neighboring) school, which fun-loving teachers will wonder at when they read: The school was in session; all were at their '' books," and studying '"'for keeps." One young man was sitting, face to the wall, engaged in writing, as he sat in front of one of thosé old slab or puncheon writing-desks, fastened against the side of the house.

All at once, in popped "that same old coon"' with a mealsack slung around his neck. Paying no special heed to what was going on in the room, he strode straight across the floor to this young man aforesaid; and, before any one had the slightest idea of his intention, the old sack was slapped violently round the young man's face, the other exclaiming, ''Tend to your books, you or-na-ry cuss." 'Teachers generally say they like to have visitors: doubtless this teacher had often said the same. But probably thereafter his desire for visitors contained at least one mental reservation. _ any rate, he was engaged again for the winter school, with an enormous increase of wages from $7 to $9 per month - a growth of well-nigh 30 per cent, and an increase worthy of especial notice and remembrance; conclusively showing that the employers in that backwoods school-district thoroughly understood the appropriate method and means of rendering suitable encouragement to corresponding merits; and that they put their knowledge earnestly into practice, much to the satisfaction of the worthy subject of the present sketch.

"That winter furnished some interesting experience. The big boys took me at Christmas, and ducked me through a hole in the ice up to my chin, till I would agree to "treat,'' which I finally did. They let me out, and I sent for some apples, for the "treat.'' The sequel came near being tragic, for the apple boys stayed so long that the others thought I was "'shamming," and had sent for no apples; and, so they caught me, and went to duck me again. Luckily, the boys came just at the nick of time, and I was let go, and we had a gay "treat." Thus went school life (not very) long ago, when I was young and in my 'teens."'

During Mr. C.'s term as Senator, an event occurred, so curious and vexatious, and so apt an illustration of the evils of hasty legislation, and, moreover, of the importance of careful and exact expression, that we cannot forbear to state it somewhat in detail. He had resolved that Indiana should have, like her sister States, a law regulating the movements of railroad trains, a thing, in fact, greatly necessary. So, he drew up a bill, mostly like the Ohio law; presented it to the Senate, and it was "teetotally '' passed in fifteen minutes; in fact, before he sat down. It was read, once, twice, ordered to be considered engrossed, read the third time, and finally passed, all in the same transaction. Not an objection was raised, not a word was changed; it went through '"'clean.'' It passed the other House much in the same way, and nothing more was thought of it. On the day in which the law was to go into effect, the whole State of Indiana was ''waked up"' by the unearthly screeching of every enginewhistle on every railroad of the State. Especially were the ears of our Senator, whose residence is close to the railroad depot in Union City, greeted with whistling fit to ''wake the dead." When the railroad men were asked, '"' what does this mean ?'' they replied, '' Senator Cadwallader's whistle-bill requires it."

Mr. C. resolutely denied the allegation, but on examining the "Record," there it stood in black and white - '' Every engineer shall, within eighty rods of any crossing of any street or public highway, sound the whistle continuously until he has passed said crossing." Cities were allowed to regulate the matter as they chose ; but as no town had done so, the law was binding in town and country alike. Here was a racket indeed. Mr. C. was nonplussed ; but knowing the bill was not so when he had it pass the Senate, he got hold of the copy thereof, and found this curious fact, to wit: 'The section, as he wrote it, stood thus: * * ''ghall sound the whistle and ring the bell continuously until, etc., i. e., sound the whistle once, at first, and then keep on ringing the bell, etc. Somebody had drawn a pencil mark across the words ''and ring the bell,'' making the clause read, "shall sound the whistle continuously," and thus it stands on the "' Record."" Who made the alteration, Mr. C. has never been able to find out. But it shows very strikingly how important it is to have the words of a law just exactly right, and how great a change a slight alteration will make. The bill, as it was presented, commanded (though the idea is not very clearly expressed), a proper and needful thing. As it stands on the Record, the thing required would be an intolerable nuisance.

Probably no man was ever greeted with such a howl of indignation as from every corner of the State met the astounded ears of the Senator from Randolph. Examination, however, soon quieted the clamor, and showed his intention and his action to have been proper, and that he was simply the victim of a strange and, thus far, unexplained mistake (or, possibly, of a trick on the part of some truckler to the favor of railroad corporations).

Mr. C. has had the satisfaction of witnessing the Indiana Legislature pass the '' Railroad Whistle Bill' in an amended form, i. e., in the shape that he put it through the Senate originally, and of having the Senate pass, unanimously, a Resolution that the 'blunder' of the previous ' act'' was in no way chargeable to him. One would have supposed that Gov. Williams would have seen the absurdity of the bill in the form in which it seems to have come into his hands, but it appears he did not; and '"'Governors" are not always "sharp" in the matter of language, any more than other people, as the Hoosier State, in common with others, has had occasion to discover.

I should not do justice to my feelings were I to omit to state that Mr. C. is himself an eminent specimen of an honorable and high-minded citizen. Though economical, he is not penurious; though desirous to make money, he is not oppressive to the poor and unfortunate ; though not, in name, a professor of religion, yet in heart he delights in all'things good and lovely, and assists liberally in building up every worthy enterprise. Heis a hearty and earnest friend of the temperance reform, and an active and uncompromising Republican. He 'possesses the unqualified respect of all his fellow-citizens, and is an honor to the town in which he resides, and to the county which, for well-nigh fifty years, has claimed him for her own. Although highly honored, thus far, by his fellow-citizens, the' State will never know what she has lost by neglecting to advance him to the post of State School Superintendent, for a genius so decidedly fresh and vigorous when in'the inexperience of untutored youth, as shown by his original inventive powers, in the way of penalties for violation of school law, would infallibly have wrought out radical and thorough reformation in all school appliances and methods, so that lads and lasses both in the near and the remote future would have revered and blessed his name as the ceaseless ages roll.

William Taylor

"William McKim laid out Spartansburg. William Dukes lived in the house where Taylor now lives. lias Godfrey and Thomas Hart kept a grocery in the house now occupied by John H. Taylor. Mr. Fires built the house where John Wiggs now lives, and sold it to Stephen Barnes, who completed it, and occupied it till he died. In the war of 1812, many men went from our region to Norfolk or Portsmouth. We lived 200 miles from Norfolk. People used to drive their hogs thither to market. The country where we lived was level and sandy. The upper counties were broken, and the soil was good for wheat and tobacco. We lived east of Raleigh forty miles. We could hear the cannon roar at Raleigh on the Fourth of July. We were six weeks and two days on the road coming West. My oldest son and myself walked nearly all the way. We camped out every night but one. Jesse Jordan had come to Indiana, and stayed three or four years, and returned to Carolina for some money that was due him, and he came back to Indiana with us. We were well and enjoyed the trip first rate. We had two one-horse carts to haul our luggage in. We had a tent, and would throw our beds down on the leaves. We slept one night at the foot of the Blue Ridge. We started the last Sunday of April, and arrived at Arba June 8, 1836. We came the mail stage route a long way, then through Powell Valley, Cumberland Gap, etc. We crossed the Blue Ridge at Good Spur and Poplar Camp, and came through Crab Orchard, etc. We traveled nearly a week on the Blue Ridge. We could see houses on points of hills and away down in valleys where we could not guess how anybody could ever get to them. One place called Dry Ridge had no water for a long distance. We crossed the Ohio at Cincinnati, which seemed to me to be quite a large town, the largest I had ever seen. We did not stop long there, but drove through, and camped for the night. As we came through Raleigh, they were building the new State House. Jesse Jordan had $1,500 in North Carolina currency that he had to exchange because it would not pass in Indiana. He got United States bank notes, the only bills that would pass. I had my money in gold. I paid for my land in half-eagles - seventy half-eagles. I had in North Carolina 125 acres. I went back to Carolina once and stayed six weeks. Jesse Jordan's widow also went back a short time ago. She said the people seemed to be doing very well."

Branson Anderson, 1888

'"' Settlers when we came, in 1833, were Jacob Chenoweth, in Ohio; Hezekiah Locke, on the Bailey place; Mason Freeman, on the Marquis place. John Foster came on the Griffis place a year or so after we came. [This is not the Joshua Foster who was in that vicinity many years before.] Mr. Farms had just put up a cabin on the James Ruby place; had not moved into it yet. Smith Masterson lived on the Downing place, north of Dismal. Jates Griffis lived on the Williamson farm, and moved not long afterward to the Griffis place, on the Greenville State road."

Elisha Martin

"Tn June, 1832, in a race, molding brick with Silas Connell, I molded, from sun to sun, 25,148 brick, and he, 23,3865. I was about twenty years old. My father-in-law scolded me; told me J should not have tried it, and that I could not stand it. He stood by me and kept me-from working full speed, till 2 P. M., when he told me to '"'go it." Silas led me all the forenoon. A great crowd were looking on, and they bet two to one on Connell. By and by, the tide turned, and the bets became five to ong for me, andI beat. People after that offered to bring men to beat me, but they never did. I had a man on his yard and he on mine. They set their watches just alike, and we begun toasecond. We worked till dinner. I had my dinner brought to the yard; took a few bites and went to molding again. Men said I molded forty-eight brick the last minute. They carried me to the house, washed me in whisky, and would not let me lie down till near morning. I went to work the third day after. The bet was only $10 on a side. Isrum Engle, of Union City, and Ezekiel Clough, of Jackson Township, lived at Cincinnati at the time, and know that I did what I claim to have done."

"Thad to go to mill at Ridgeville, from near Antioch, Jay County, Ind., generally on horseback. I had to do the milling, while the older boys carried the mail from Winchester to Ft. Wayne. Thomas Shaler, who used to live near, but had moved to near Camden, came to mother's on his way to mill with a wagon and oxen. He persuaded her to have me go with him-and get fifteen bushels of corn, and said he would bring home the meal for her; soshe sent me. Brother Ben had raised the corn at Joab Ward's, and I shelled it; got a horse there and took it to mill, and had the meal all ready. But Shaler had been getting drunk and fooling round, and he stayed three days. I determined to walk home and bring a horse and get my grist that way. But at last he got ready and started. (See Arthur McKew's Reminiscences.) He left my meal at William Welch's, and I took the grist home from there (John Adair's place south of Liber). Shaler was away about nine days, and his wife and family were at home starving. He was a drunken, shiftless fellow, boasting of being half-Indian. His wife was an excellent woman, with four children; all girls. She was there in the woods, ten miles from any settler. Their cabin had no fire-place, floor, nor chimney, no daubing nor chinking, and the snow was eight inches deep; everything was frozen up, and they had nothing toeat. She had burned some coal in one corner of the shanty, had made a sled, and was intending to take an ox, the sled, her four children, and a kettle with coals in it to keep the children from freezing to death, and to start for Mrs. Hawkins' cabin fifteen miles off, the nearest settler she knew. But her husband and young McKew got to the cabin that night about midnight, with the provisions. Shaler and McKew cut the ice and crossed the Big Salamonie, near Judge Winters', but there was a stream called Big Branch,

[Norr. - This Tom Shaler was the same that James Porter found *' squatted'' on the land that Porter entered afterward, northwest part of Jackson Township, Randolph County. Shaler moved from there near to Liber, and soon after that to near Camden. This incident took place about 1833. Joseph Hawkins' father moved to Jay County in 1829. He died in 1833, and they were '"'roughing"' it up there in the Jay County woods,

Jacob Johnson, 1833

"The first resident of Jackson Township is supposed to have been Philip Storms. He "squatted" on a piece of land east of my farm; but a Mr. Fager entered the land from under him, and he then moved to Mississinewa crossing and remained there several years. It is also said that another person entered Mr. Storms' land there ; that he was very angry and threatened to shoot the intruder, but that they finally settled the matter amicably and that he moved elsewhere. He was living in the region in 1830, how much later is not now known, and if he had lived elsewhere in the township several years, he was certainly the first comer. Mr. Jacobs is thought by some to have been the first permanent settler in the township, but these things are "' mighty hard to find out." Ishmael Bunch was a very early pioneer also.

"I (Johnson) lived in a rail-pen from May 3 toJune 22. Our family were myself and wife and nine children, and we were as happy as need be. We made the floor of the rail-pen of bark, and renewed it twice. When the water would splash up through the bark, I would put in a new floor of the same sort.

The Indians were all gone but one, "Old Duck." He hunted and trapped and took his skins and furs to Greenville. He used to stay with Jacobs, at Harshman's, and with Andrew Debolt."'

Note. - This '" Duck" is spoken of in Jay County History as being familiar with the early settlers of that county. He seems to have been a clever, civil, honest Indian. At one time he was at a church trial, and when the witness began to testify " crosswise,' he rose to leave, saying, ''Me go; no much good here, too much lie."'

All early settlers are familiar with the name of the old Indian, Doctor Duck, who remained in the county a long time after his tribe had moved to Kansas. He showed much skill in the treatment of diseases. * * * He was religious and often ap- He attended meeting for preaching at Deerfield and the church trial afterward, which he left as stated above. He tried to cure John J. Hawking, a pioneer of Jay County, but did not succeed, though he lived with Mr. H. six months. About two weeks after Mr. H.

Settlers (that Mr. Johnson remembers) when he came were : Daniel B. Miller, Ward Township; Jacob Harshman, two miles west of Johnson's; Abram Harshman, same neighborhood; Reuben Harshman, same neighborhood (died lately in Union City, Ohio); Andrew Debolt, Mount Holly, dead; James Reeves, near Castle P. O., dead; Amos Smith, near New Lisbon, gone long ago; Samuel Skinner, near New Lisbon, gone long ago; John Skinner, near New Lisbon, gone long ago; James Willson, James Wickersham, etc.

Andrew Aker

" My trade as a merchant was extensive and various. I used to buy every commodity that was salable at that day. I bought produce of all kinds and shipped it on flat-boats down the Mississinewa, sending sometimes two or three boats at once, loaded with flour, bacon, apples, ete. We went to Logansport, Lafayette, etc., selling mostly, though not entirely, to Indian traders. Sales would be made on credit, and then we would go down at the time of the Indian payments, which were made once a year, generally in August or September, and get the money for the goods scla tothem. The last time I went we had three boat loads. The boa: were made by Joab Ward, who kept a boat-yard near what is now Ridgeville. He would make a boat all complete for an amount varying from $25 to $30, which would carry about one hundred barrels of flour.

"T lost my sight about 1836, and sold goods till 1838. I worked twenty-five years at pump-making. I had worked at it when young, and, trying it again after blindness came on, I found that I could do the work with success, and resumed the business. I have made and sold great numbers of pumps, working all through the country, making forty at one time at Recovery.

'"Thomas Hanna kept a store at Winchester when I came there. Esq. Odle had owned a store before that; Hanna's store was quite an extensive establishment for those days.

Paul W. Way set up a dry goods store afterwards, and William and Jesse Way began also. Michael Aker bought out my stock and followed me in the business, though he did not continue long.

"The court house was up and covered when I came to Winchester; David Wysong furnished the brick, and the lime was obtained at New Paris, or at Middleboro; lime was not burned in this county till afterwards.

Joseph Hanchy had made pumps, hauling his tools with an ox team, and making them from farm to farm. He is the same man who planted nurseries in various places through the country.

"Soon after I came here I bought 108 acres of John B. Wright and 100 acres of Charles Conway. I bought the Daniel Petty land east of town, of Oliver Walker, as also a lot in every square in town. I traded the lot in the north front with a building on it for the farm I now live on (108 acres).

I traded 180 acres with a good house and barn and orchard and 50 acres cleared for 400 acres, and sold that in four or five years to Joshua Bond for $1,100.

'" Ernestus Strohm began a cabinet shop, and I was in partnership with him for awhile. We made a sideboard worth $175 about 1838, the first costly piece of furniture made in the county. It is a splendid article - large, square, rather low, with a large framed glass at the middle of the top. I have it yet in a good state of preservation; in fact, almost as nice and good as new.

Curtis Voris and a half-brother of his had moved out here from Greenville. He had some money to spare and he asked, "Who would be safe ?'' The person told him, '"' Andrew Aker." So he came to me: ''What per cent?'' "Six." 'How long time?" 'A year." " All right," said he, 'and I will trade out the interest." 'Better yet,"' said I, 'I will take your money. How much can you spare?" 'Two dollars and a half," was the rejoinder. That I was astonished is simply the truth. However, I took his money, the whole of it, and he kept his bargain by trading out the interest, all of tt.

"A man from out North was trading one day, and having made a bill of (perhaps) $2, offered in payment a $5 bill. It was a base counterfeit, and I told him so. ' Why," said he, "it is good; I got it from Hell." 'Take it back there, then, it will not pass here.'' He meant a man with that name.

"One day, Old Samuel Emery, from the Mississinewa (who died only a short time ago), came in with a roll of deer-skins. He was truly a rough-looking customer. His pants were buckskin and ripped up nearly to the knee. He wore a straw hat, with the rim half torn off; his shoes were ragged and tied up with hickory bark ; and altogether he was as forlorn as one often sees. He wished to " trade out" his roll of buckskins. He got several articles, I reckoned up the account and the trade was nearly even. He then said, 'I wish to get a few more things, powder and lead and some flints, and I would like to get trusted." I spoke to Charlie Conway at the back end of the stove. ''O," said he, 'Sam Emery is all right, he is one of the substantial citizens out on the Mississinewa." He got his powder and things on credit and paid for them promptly according to agreement. After that time he did a large amount of trading at my store, always dealing fairly, like the honorable man that he was. But when I first set eyes on him as he entered the store with his roll of buckskins on his shoulder, he was a strange-looking customer indeed !

'The same man who loaned me the $2.50 also bought a cow of me for $8. He agreed to pay me for the creature in two or three months. He paid me, though it took a much longer time than that. He made the payment in small sums, sometimes as low as 123 cents, and never more than 373 cents at anyone time. But he paid me fully after a while.

Shortly after I came to Winchester I built a brick house, getting the brick of David Wysong at $2.50 per thousand delivered. Mr. Wysong died only two or three years ago, about eighty years old.

The pump business is carried on at present by my sons-inlaw, Knecht and Thomas. They do not make now, but buy and sell, purchasing sometimes as high as 4,000 pumps at one time."

Mrs. Jessie Addington, 1834

"Joab Ward and Meshach Lewallyn lived near Ridgeville. There were no houses from here to Winchester. Thamas Addington (not Rev. Thomas) occupied a cabin near where George Addington now lives. William Addington had come on in March, and had settled one mile north. 'There were no settlers east or west that I know of.

Benjamin Lewallyn and a Mr. Jones, as also James Addington (uncle to Jesse), had settled on the Mississinewa, below Ridgeville. That town was not begun till long afterward. People used to bring flour, bacon, apples, potatoes, apple-butter, etc., to Ridgeville to Ward's, and buy of him a flat-boat to send them down the river to market. Mr. Addington has bought of Mr. Ward apples supposed to be spoiled for trade by being frozen. We had to go to White River or Mississinewa to get help in raisings or log-rollings.

Addington, on Sparrow Creek) had moved out here just before, had built him a cabin and his family (and we, too) moved in without chimney or floor. We stayed there, cooking outdoors, for a month, till ours was built. We moved in as soon as our cabin was covered, having nothing but log walls and a clapboard roof. We cooked by a log-heap fire for several weeks, till a chimney was built, some time in August.

'Religious meetings used to be held in private dwellings around the settlement by the Methodists. There was no school for several years. There were several other Addingtons, father and uncles of Jesse Addington."

Robert Murphy

'"'The county was new. Very few settlers were here in 1834. James Griffis lived on the Williamson place; Smith Masterson lived west about a mile; William Kennon lived on State road, near Bartonia (father of Thomas S. Kennon); John Dixon lived one and a half miles northwest of me; Green resided on the State road. Kennon and Griffis-had been here two years. Masterson came the same year but earlier than I did.

There were no roads, only "blazes."" There were paths, tracks and "blazes." Hill Grove and Spartansburg both were towns, but few houses in either.

For milling, we had to go to Richmond or Stillwater. There was a mill at McClure's, which is standing yet. In dry times, the water would fail. We had to go to Piqua, or Troy, or Dayton, for salt. Andrew Kennedy (Congressman) once said that the time would come when a bushel of wheat would bring a barrel of salt. No one believed him, but the day has come.

I once tried to go to the first house in Union City (there was only one) to appraise some property there (Star House). I struck the railroad track and went on east. Coming to a house, I inquired, '' How far east to Union City?" "Half a mile west," was the reply.

There were no mills near, not even a corn-cracker. mill and Dean's mill (Ohio) were there. There had been one at Sharp Eye. A dam had been built, but the people thought it made them sick, and it had to be taken down. When I first came I moved into a cabin near by.

I came in March, 18384, and cleared seven acres and put it in corn that spring. I cut, rolled and burnt what I could, and the rest I killed by piling and burning the brush around :them. I hired 2,000 rails made and fenced the land.

I have never bought in all, during forty-six years, ten bushels of corn. 'Two grists of corn and three bushels of wheat is all I have bougbt in that time.

I moved with three wagons, and afterward brought another load of bees, grain, etc. I had wheat in Darke County, and after harvest I hauled the wheat home.

I worked for one man (Mr. Teegarden) in Darke County one year, at $7 per month (some of the time at 31 cents a day). I have worked many a day at 31 cents a day. I never hunted or fished much. They must bite quick or show themselves, or I was o-p-h. I have killed only two deer. One night, fishing in a "riffle," in the " Dismal," we caught a basketful of suckers with our hands, many of them a foot long. One year, the creek froze and then raised above the ice with great numbers of fish, and the water froze again and fastened the fish between the ice in great quantities. We could have caught lots of them, but we thought freezing the fish spoiled them.

I found a steel-trap in Darke County, and sold it toan Indian for six coon-skins to be brought at such a time. The time came, but no coon-skins, and I thought '' Good-bye steel-trap, good-bye coon-skins,'' but he came and brought them afterward, and said, smiling, "Too good sugar-making - couldn't come.'' Sugaretre plenty. We made all the sugar we needed, and some to sell.

The following is alist of old men residing in Wayne Township (age, 1880): John Hartman, 76; Jacob Baker, 79; Joel Elwell, 75; William A. Macy, 71; Ezra Coddington, 73; Francis Frazier, 79; Robert Murphy, 75. Isaac Clifton, 73; George Huffnogle, 80; William Pickett, 79.

Settlers when Mr. Hoover came: Robert Murphy; John Dixon came the fall before and bought out Mr. Kennon; James Griffis, William Kennon, Smith Masterson.

'"' People were sociable then. Men would go seven or eight miles to a raising or a log-rolling - to Sheets', north, or to Griffis' or Carnahan's, south, or even farther. People worked then. They did not eat and sit around. Twenty to thirty men were a large crowd. The first election (for Jackson and Wayne Townships together) was held at Peyton's west of Union City, in, say 1836, and only seven votes were polled. The rest went to other polls to vote. A person could vote anywhere in the county then.

'" Settlers when I came - some of them were Burkett Pierce, west of Deerfield, very old and living still; George Ritenour, across the river, near Pierce's, an early settler, but is now dead; William Odle, Curtis Butler, living along the river below town, moved away long, long ago.

There were none above (east of) town till a mile above me. Samuel Emery lived a mile up the river. He became very old and died a year or so since.

Robert Parsons lived a mile below Deerfield. He owned a corn-cracker; he is dead. Deerfield had not "started" yet. One shanty stood there, but no town had been begun. A school shanty was standing one and a half miles above, on Congress land, on the north of Deerfield and Union City road.

Prospect Meeting-House was not built till several years after I came, perhaps about 1840. The cemetery at the Chapel is the oldest one in this part of the country.

When Lewallyn came to settle near Ridgeville, they unloaded their goods into the brush. Some stayed and went to building a 'camp,' and the others went back to get the rest of the "' plunder."

I came from Hawkins County, Tenn., sixty-four miles up Holston River from Knoxville. I sold 100 acres of land there for $400. We came here with one four-horse wagon and a carriage.

Panelot Fields, my brother, had moved to this county before me, and had settled near New Pittsburg, not far from James Porter's. He had returned to Tennessee on business, and, when he

But venison was very easily gotten. There were plenty of hunters who were only too glad to shoot for us all the deer we wanted. George Porter and his boys were hunters, and had no land. Zack Key, brother of Andrew Key, lived near us, and if we wished any venison, all we had to do was to speak to him, and he would shoulder his rifle and bring one down in a hurry. He would hang it up and tell me where to find it, and I would go out and bring the carcass in. 'The hunters cared nothing for the flesh. All they wanted was the skins, which would sell for from 25 to 50 cents.

Once I was hunting my horses. They had wandered far, and in looking for them, I came to Ephraim Bowen's. It was perhaps in 1835, not long after I came to the county. The settlers were far more numerous in that part of the county, but farther north it was wild enough. Mr. Bowen and his folks were very kind and hospitable. They could not tell me where to find my horses, but they did another thing whicn was first-rate for a tired and hungry man. They would not take 'no' for an answer, but insisted that I should stop and take'dinner with them, which I did, and went on my wandering way much refreshed.

John R. Warren

'¢ Settlers when I came were Daniel B. Miller, on the Miller place; Samuel Helms, two miles north of Saratoga; Andrew Key, three miles north of Saratoga; William Pogue (father of Robert Pogue, Union City), near Andrew Key; John T. Evans, west of Saratoga; Edward Evans, west of Saratoga; Abram Harshman, east of Saratoga; Alexander, near Harshman's; William Bragg, below Andrew Key; Daniel Mock, west of Saratoga; George W. Barber, one mile west of Saratoga; William Simmons, on Mississinewa River; Samuel Sipe, near Perry Fields; John Sipe, came shortly after I did.

Edward Edger, Deerfield

"When I came to Deerfield, just three families resided there, viz.: Henry Taylor, Henry Sweet and Jonathan 'I'homas. Henry Sweet was a blacksmith. Henry Taylor had a few groceries in a log cabin there. He also sold some whisky, and professed, besides that, to keep a hotel, too.

Curtis Butler had been doing business there, and had been Acting Postmaster at that place. Deerfield was by no means an unimportant place, in fact, small though it was, and deep buried in the thick forests of the Mississinewa. Although that valley had been settled more than twenty years, yet along its whole course, that little Deerfield was its only town, and its only post office, and the only one, it may also be said, between Winchester and Fort Wayne.

But Mr. Butler had moved to Marion, and left the post office in the hands of William Odle. The amount of business may be judged of when it is stated that the salary of the office was $1.75 per quarter. It rose afterward to $40 per quarter. I was appointed Postmaster soon after my removal to Deerfield. Shortly after that, and for two or three years, an immense business was done in Randolph and Jay Counties in the entry of land, especially in Jay County, and vast sums of (silver) money were sent by John Connor, the mail carrier, to Fort Wayne.

He used to have two horses - one for the mail and one for the money sack. He would have, sometimes, as much money (silver) as two of us could well throw upon the horse's back. He would lead the horses and walk, sometimes.

He has taken thus as high as $6,000 or $7,000 at one trip. We used to hide it in a holein the ground, beneath the puncheon floor, under the bed.

We handled in that way, in all, many thousand dollars. I would receipt for the money, and take Connor's receipt, and he would pay it at Fort Wayne and obtain the patents, and bring them to me, and I would deliver them to the parties concerned, and they would pay at the rate of $1 for eighty acres.

Though Mr. Connor was poor, he was faithful and honest, and, during my whole course of business with him, for nearly twenty years, I never suffered a cent of loss.

There were perhaps others. The mails were carried once a week from Winchester to Fort Wayne and back. Connor had to lie out in the woods one night on his trip going to and coming from Fort Wayne. The operation would not be considered very safe now, especially with hundreds and sometimes thousands of dollars in conveyance, but Johnnie Connor was never molested.

There were only two settlers between Elias Kizer's (one mile north of Winchester) and Deerfield, viz.: Samuel Cain and John Kinnear.. Mr. Cain's was two miles, and Mr. Kinnear's three and a half miles, south of Deerfield.

A large part of the land on both sides of the road northward from Winchester to Deerfield was held by James G. Birney, a non-resident, and the country remained unsettled for many years.

'"'T traded with the Indians for furs, as also in succeeding years in cattle, hogs, etc. I traveled extensively, to Green Bay and the northwest for furs, etc., and in general trading, visiting every northern State and the South also.

The trade at Deerfield at one time extended over Jay and Blackford Counties, and even much farther than that. I have sold as high as $15,000 in a single year, and have taken in as much as $700 in one day. One day I bought 160 saddle hams that had been killed the day before. There had fallen a snow several inches deep, a tracking snow, so called, because the hunter could track the deer in it.

In early times great quantities of tree-sugar and molasses, and of venison hams used to be wagoned to Cincinnati; and salt and iron kettles, etec., would be hauled back. I sold four tons of sugar kettles in one winter. The cost of hauling was great. At one time a quantity of salt that was worth $18 in Cincinnati, cost $20 to get it hauled from there to Deerfield.

Teamsters would cut out a road and. then throw brush across to hide it so that nobody else would see the track, that the ones who made the opening might have the use of it for several trips.

'"'T had the first cook-stove inthe county. It was brought from Cincinnati. That and another cost $100 in silver at 10 per cent premium, equal to $110 in currency. The other one was sold to Mrs. Kinnear, south of Deerfield.

A German named Keizer, who was poor, wished me to advance goods to him and take the coal for security. I would not, but Mr. Searl let him have the goods and took Frederick Miller as security. The coal was burned, the boats were built and caulked with tow, and the coal was loaded upon the boats, as also the goods which Mr. Searl furnished to Keizer upon Miller's security.

Mr. McKinney came out with his rifle and threatened to shoot if we attempted to jump his dam. We did attempt it, however, and he did not shoot.

But the boats could not cross the dam, and the merchandise was a total loss, except my furs, which I sent back by wagon to Deerfield. Mr. Searl lost about $2,000, which came near breaking him up. These boats were loaded at Ritenour's mill below Deerfield, a point at which many boats received their cargo.

At another time Joseph Hinchy and I took a boat load of flour and salt, etc., down the river. Heand I built the boat, and we loaded it at Ritenour's mill. I steered the boat, and we jumped four or five dams. One of them was Connor's, which was only a brush dam, and not hard to pass.

When we got to the " Feeder dam"' for the canal, they asked $10 to go through, and it would have taken all day to clear out the logs so as to permit the boat to pass. I offered $1.00 for a man to come on the boat with me and help me jump thedam. A man accepted the offer; we performed the'feat and got the boat over safe. The boat was taken to Logansport, and the cargo was sold mostly to the Indians. This was done in 18389.

This Joseph Hinchy was a very eccentric man.- He owned land in many places, and "set out orchards far and near, planting and grafting the trees; and some of his old orchards are standing yet. He set out trees at Joab Ward's, at Wheeling, at Marion and many other places. He wasa pump-maker also. [Mr. Aker says he hauled his tools for pump making on a sled with oxen. He wore only buckskin clothes. |

"Deerfield was for years a place of large business. At first the trade was to and from Cincinnati by wagon, afterward to the canal at Piqua. We used to trade largely in swine. I once drove a herd of hogs from Kentucky to South Carolina, beginning to sell them in North Carolina, and so onward till they were all disposed of.

Greenville Creek twice. The hogs swam the creek. We lost none, but some we had to pull out by the ears. The trip to Cincinnati took twenty-one days. There were about ten hands with the drove. I got for the hogs $6 net. Pork, however, was very variable, and sometimes fell very low, and many have been bankrupted thereby.

'I once traveled six weeks in Kansas, sleeping in a wagon the whole time. My companion most of the time was an Indian, who was a trusty, faithful man.

When a young man, I traveled through the South, working at my trade; as also I was pilot on a steamboat from New Orleans to Louisville, spending five or six years in these ways. During these trips I passed through parts of North Carolina, South Carolina, Alabama, Georgia. Mississippi, Louisiana and Texas. When a boy sixteen years old, I went as an apprentice with my master, Benedict Thomas, to Texas, from Georgetown, Ky., with a flat-boat load of furniture and saddles and bridles and dry goods. We took them on a flat-boat to the mouth of the river, on a keelboat to Natchitoches, and thence by wagon 160 miles to the old Spanish fort,between thetwo Trinity's (rivers). He traded his goods for mules and horses and for Spanish hides. He stayed in Texas, and sent me to New Orleans to exchange the animals and hides for mahogany, coffee, molasses and sugar, which I did and retured home on foot. Another man came with me. We bought knapsacks and started, being twenty days on the road, and sleeping in the woods or with the Indians. One place was 140 miles (from French Camps to Fort Columbia on the Tombigbee) ; thence we came to Tuscumbia, and so, on home. We got provisions of the Indians - jerked meat, bears flesh and venison, and also hominy and sweet potatoes and corn bread. We passed through the Chickasaw and Choctaw nations.

My brother Archibald walked from New Orleans sixteen times, and my brother William twelve times, from 1809 and onward. They would go down with flat-boats and return on foot. The flat-boats would cost $150 and would have to be sold at New Orleans perhaps for $10. They generally made two trips a year. One of them once tried three trips, but he got sick. They commonly traveled '"Carroll's Trace,"' from Lake Pontchartrain to Colbert's Ferry, on the Tennessee River. The "'trace'' stretched for miles and miles through deep, tall cane-brakes, a clear welltrodden path with thick canes on both sides of the path nearly impenetrable. The canes were sometimes thirty or fort feet high and as thick as they could grow.

In 1847, I went to New Orleans for hemorrhage of the lungs. Recovering my health, I returned home, and have lived since that time thirty-five years, enjoying still a reasonable degree of health and strength."

John Hoke, Jackson

The settlers in 1836 were, west of Union City, Wayne Township, Thomas Peyton, Converse place; Jacob Emerick, William Anderson's farm; John Emerick, Weimar farm; north of Union City ; John Sheets, Smith farm; Eli Nofsinger, north of Smith's farm, on Little Mississinewa; near New Lisbon; Amos Smith, west of New Lisbon; David Vance, William Cox, Isaiah Cox, Thomas Wiley, at New Lisbon; Andrew Debolt, at Mt. Holly, all sons-in-law of Amos Smith; Jacob Johnson, west of Mt. Holly, 1833; Seth Macy, one and a half miles of Johnson's (west); James Skinner, one mile west of New Lisbon; John Skinner, near his brother James; James Reeves, father of the Reeveses, one-half mile north of Skinner's; James Wickersham, one mile south of New Lisbon; - - Nickum, where Eli Mangas lives; Thomas Devor, one-half mile north of Allensville ; John Thomson, north of Devor's; Jacobs, near Allensville, north of Mississinewa; Simmons, west, on Mississinewa ; James Porter, south of New Pittsburg; Philip Storms had been at Mississinewa Crossing, but had gone away ; James Warren, near Middletown, one-half mile south; John Warren, three miles west of Middletown ; William Warren, laid out Middletown.

Others, perhaps, had mills that I do not now call to mind. The Allensville mill was the first important and extensive mill in the region, and it is there now.

The Indians (Wyandots) used to come and hunt on Gray's Branch, but they had mostly stopped coming there two or three years before I came. A few came afterward.

The first settlers did little but hunt. They thought the country would never be filled up, but would remain a superb hunting-ground. Settlers began to come in and go to clearing farms, and then they began, too, somewhat. Hunters would come through my clearing. and say: '' Are you going to clear out a farm?" "Yes, I thought I would." 'Well, maybe that's the best way." The land at first was a good deal wet; half of it stood in water much of the time. Clearing and draining has dried it out pretty well."

Thomas Hubbard, Green

'"'T entered 131 acres and bought, second-hand, 158 acres. I now own 150 acres. Wecame in a four-horse wagon, cutting our own road from White River, ten or twelve miles, taking two days.

a man, Neselrode, had a cabin and we took the cabin. I paid for my land and had $50 left. There was a cabin or two stuck around in the woods between here and White River. We came the road to Maxville, thence to Fairview. I did but little hunting, since I could get plenty of deer hams for 374 cents a pair. I had to take a sled (I had a good team) to White River for corn, staying all night and till late next day. I bought the corn and got it ground on White River. Corn was 50 cents a bushel. I raised the first wheat in the settlement. I got a man to put in three acres for me, and when I came, in October, the wheat was up and looked nice. The crop was sixty bushels.

Flat-boats and pirogues were used to go down the river with pork, flour, apples, etc. One spring, five boats went down loaded with charcoal. The boats were ''stove in' near here, and the coal was lost. The river was snaggy. One broke up in going over McKinney's mill-dam ; the others were "stove in' before that. Searl, of Deerfield, owned the coal, and he was nearly broken up by the loss. They intended to take the coal to New Orleans (about 1840).

We bought the trees for our orchard of Joab Ward, of Ridgeville, in 1840. 'There were 120 budded trees, and they made a goodorchard. We gave $9 a hundred, and we brought them down the river in a canoe.

Mrs. Hubbard remembers seeing the soldiers at Chillicothe, guarding the British prisoners in the war of 1812. Her father had just moved from Pennsylvania, and he was poor, and her mother baked buscuits and pies, etc., for the soldiers, sometimes cooking all night to supply their wants.

A Methodist quarterly mceting was held in our house before the floor was laid. The sleepers were used as seats. Afterward the children played holding meetings, singing, praying, preaching, etc., going through the whole exercise in quite a businesslike manner."

Mrs. Sherman

'* We had a splendid spring in a 'gum' seven feetdeep. We lived on the "Sample Trace," leading from Sample's mill, on White River, to Lewallyn's mill on the Mississinewa. And our spring was a noted point. We came February 20, 1837. The snow had been deep. The waters were high, and, in crossing White River, we lost a bunch of keys. We never expected to see our keys again, but some one found them two or three years afterward, and they were returned to us, and we have the keys yet. My husband built a cabin on his land before we moved to it, and we lived in that cabin more than twenty years. He improved his own land somewhat, but he worked out a great deal, mowing, clearing, etc., on White River, in the older settlements. I wove, braided straw hats, etc.

George McPherson was an oddity in the schoolroom. He would call 'to books,"' sit down to read and let the school run itself. If anybody passed, the children would pop up and run to the window to see, and so on."

[Mrs. Sherman and her husband, Pardon Sherman, died in the winter of 1881-82, within a few weeks of one another, she going before her husband to try the realities of the unseen Spirit Land. |

"David Robison and Peter Hoover were here when I came; Ezekiel and George Gullett came when I did. The woods were alive with wolves and bears and turkeys and deer. We once killed two bears before breakfast. They came along down the furrows as we were passing back and forth. The dogs were called and they tried to catch the bears, chasing them and treeing them, and at length they were shot and killed.

"I followed brick-making in Cincinnati, also wood-sawing. I was unfortunate and lost all my property and had to begin anew. I sawed wood for several years in Cincinnati. One day I sawed and handled ten cords, sawing it once in two, and tossing it into a cellar. I was not especially tired, and thought nothing particular about the matter."

**T have been a church member for more than sixty-five years, and an exhorter and Class-leader for thirty-five years. The religion of Christ has been a wellspring of joy to my soul all that long time. I have had deep trials, but the Lord has given me triumph over all! I have taken every number of the Cincinnati Christian Advocate, now Vol. XLVII, No. 2,500, and_before that the New York Advocate for several years. I have had abundance, and have been brought low; but my treasure is in Heaven, and my heart is there also; and soon, full soon, I shall see the King in His beauty, and He will give me the riches of the glory-land !"

Philip Barger

"The county was all woods. A few settlers were scattered here and there, but they had only cabins with small clearings that hardly made a '"'break'' in the vast wilderness.

Bennett King lived in the northwest corner of the county. He is father of William O. King, near Deerfield. Bennet King went to Missouri and is living there.

"The first mail route was from Deerfield to Granville, Delaware Co., once in two weeks, out and back, on horseback. I got the fifth number of the Winchester Patriot [H. H. Neff], and have taken the paper from that office ever since.

First he built a saw-mill, then he added a corn-cracker, then a grist-mill. He was putting in the dam in 1838. He started the saw-mill in 1839, the corn-mill in the fall, and the wheat-mill in 1841 or 1842.

About 1844, a quarterly meeting was held at Thomas Hubbard's. Their house was new and had no floor, and the sleepers were for seats. Bruce was the preacher.

his docket on slips-of paper, and stuck them in the cracks of his cabin. Nobody else could read them. After him were Jonathan Green and then Thomas Harbour.

Elijah Harbour, though a clergyman and an excellent citizen, was also a great deer hunter. He has often shot them from his own cabin door. One night three wolves chased some deer round his house through the snow, making paths in the snow as they went round and round.

The wolves were chased away, being followed down the river to Fairview. But father Harbour would never molest the deer on the Sabbath, and the deer would come on Sunday and graze quietly on the prairie as though they knew they would not be harmed on that day.

Mr. Harbour was famous also for holding meetings for worship and preaching, and many a Christian soul has been cheered by his warm and loving words and his fervent exhortations and prayers,and many a sinner convicted and converted through the blessing of the Spirit upon his earnest warnings and appeals.

His funeral was attended by a very large concourse of people, showing thus their respect and esteem for so useful a citizen and so loving and ardent a Christian."

Amos Orcutt, Ward

The settlers were (1838) Isaac Cherry, on David Harker's place; Samuel Bryson; George Ritenour, near the old chapel on the river, west of Deerfield ; Burkett Pierce, across the river, west of Deerfield.

There were doubtless others, but they are not now recollected. I was a boy thirteen years old when father came to Randolph. There were a large family of us, and we had a hard, rough time.

Father died the same year I was married, and mother was left with a family of seven or eight children, several of them being small and dependent. The family was raised successfully,

Jacob Corl, Jackson

"Settlers in 1838: Daniel B.' Miller, near Prospect ; Abraham Harshman, near William Warren's; Reuben Harshman, Jackson Township, now Union City ; Jacob Harshman, Jackson Township, dead; Andrew Key, Ward Township, dead; James Porter, Jackson Township, near Pittsburg; William Simmons, dead; James Simmons, dead; Joseph Lollar, near Saratoga, dead; Simeon Lucas, near Saratoga; Joseph Lucas, near Saratoga; Sam Emery near Jay County, very old, dead; George Chaneyvelt, one mile west of Pittsburg, dead; William Sizemore, near Middletown, nearly one hundred years old, dead.

There was an old settler, Mr. Nunnamaker, at Pittsburg, eighty-four years old. He was a soldier in the war of 1812, and has received a pension for many years. He died in 1880."

James Kelly, Greensfork

""T came to Randolph County, Ind., in 1842, twenty-eight years after the first settlement. Prices then were almost nothing. Wheat was 25 cents in trade, 32 cents in Cincinnati. It had to be hauled in wagons through the mud - though there were some pikes in Ohio.

Men would go with four-horse teams, hitch their horses before and behind the wagon to feed them, and sleep in the wagon. I was offered pork (hogs weighing 200 pounds net) at 75 cents per 100 pounds, for money to pay taxes, and I did not take it.

Myself and wife went over to the Miami, helped butcher thirtyseven large hogs, cut the meat, chopped the sausage, stuffed them, rendered the lard and salted the pork. They gave us half a barrel of stuffed sausages, one large ham, one keg of lard, ribs, back-bones, etc., all we chose to carry home. We brought away meat enough to last till the next fall, all for two days' work of my wife and myself.

William Hill, father of Aaron Hill (now living south of Arba) made a pestle-mill to pound hominy. He fenced it and ran it by horse-power, getting some custom. Another man, having a corncracker, also made a pestle-mill, but did not fence it. Hewould let the mill run itself. In pounding, some kernels would scatter out, and sheep would come and pick it up. One day, when the mill was "' going it all alone," a flock of sheep came picking around, till a big buck, smelling at the log, climbed up and stuck his head into the mill-hole. '' Crack!'' came the pestle, and knocked the buck dead. The sheep climbed up, one by one, till twenty-seven sheep lay dead around the mill, and the owner of the mill (and this was the pith of the joke) had to pay for the sheep."

*« Aaron Hill's father used to work oxen, and sometimes ride them. One day, Aaron rode an ox over to Eli Overman's of an errand. (One version says he went courting.) Said Eli, '' Did thee ride?'' ' Yes,'' said Aaron. Said Eli to one of the boys, " Put up Aaron's beast."" The boy went out, but came back, saying, "'I can't find any beast.'' 'I thought thee said thee rode.' 'I did; I rode an ox," piped out the bashful boy. "Go turn it to the straw-stack," said Eli."

** James Clark was once driving to Whitewater, when a big walnut struck him on the back. He was fire-mad in a second, thinking somebody had struck him. He wheeled, crying out, "Who did that?" But ' nary man."'

A man - Mr. Cartwright - coming from North Carolina, had heard of white walnuts, and that they were yood to eat. He set upon a lot of buckeyes and went to eating them. Some one asked him :

A young fellow, whom I will not name, once went to Fort Wayne, with his brother and brother-in-law, with provisions for the Indian trade. The roads were terrible through the bogs and the marshes. The young fellow - only a lad, as it were, and a mild, gentle lad, at that - could not get his oxen through the swamps.

Finally, at a bad crossing, the wild fellow told the boy he would not swear for him any more; that he must get through himself. 'The lad tried, but "no go."

The boy, grown desperate, seized his gad, swung it over the oxen's head, and, laying on with fearful blows, broke out into a sort of half swearing, yelling as if the Indians were after him. The oxen went through, whether by the whipping, or the yelling, or the swearing. But the lad was so mortified that he offered the other all his truck money ($3 or so) if he would not tell of it. The fellow took the money and made the promise, but broke his word and told of it before he got to Spartansburg, and kept the money to boot.

comparatively late date; and it is no more than likely that they should have been stretched somewhat in the various tellings to which they had, in the course of years, been subjected.