Lorain City (part 14 of 77)

Elisha Peck, with wife and ten children, arrived in Brownhelm, in November of the year previously mentioned. The family stopjied with Colonel Brown the night after their arrival, and then moved into the house of Alfred Avery, where they remained some three weeks. They then took up their abode on lot fifty-four, a log house having been rolled together. It was indeed a primitive house when the family moved into it, for it was without a floor of any kind, and the first night, the children made tlieir bed on mother earth. The father and mother were provided with a bedstead constructed of poles, and elm bark was made to answer in place of a cord. Mr. I'eek was a shoemaker, and worked at his trade for over sixty years. He also had a rude tannery in Bi-ownhelm at an early day. He was born in Berlin, Connecticut, March 7, 1773, and died in Brownhelm January 7, 1858, aged eighty-four years and ten months. His wife was Millicent Byington, of Bristol, Connecticut. Four children are now living.

Deacon George Wells, now residing in Brownhelm, in the eighty-second year of his age, arrived in 1818. He was :it the time unmarried. He bought a piece of land on the lake shore, felled a tree, and with a few poles and bark made himself a rude shelter, in which he lived the first summer. A short time after- ward this was substituted by a log house, in which liis widowed mother and the remainder of her family took up their abode in the summer of 1820. Mr. Wells returned to Hartford in 18'25, and married, immediati'ly after which he set out with his bride for the far west. At Buffalo he engaged i)assage on a vessel, the captain of which agreed to land him on the shore opposite his residence in Browiilielm. He disregarded his promise, however, and carried Mr. AVells and wife to Johnson's Island, thence to Sandusky, and finally landed them, with some twenty other ])assengcrs, at Oedar I'oint. Mr. Wells and wife started for their Brownhelm cabin on foot, but after traveling some ten miles, were overtaken by Captain Day, who was returning to Black River from Sandusky, on horseback. He kindly offered his place on the horse to the young wife, which was accei)ted, Mr. Wells and the captain traveling on foot. The end of the Journey was duly reached, wlien two men with a skiff were sent after Mrs. Wells' baggage, which was hardly equal either in value or quantity to the outfit of the modern bride.

John Graham married a sister of Deacon Wells, and removed to Brownhelm soon after he arrived. He located on the same lot - lot four - and lived there the remainder of his life.

Abishai Morse came from Great Barrington, Massachusetts, to Bi-ownhelni in September, 1820, with his family, consisting of his wife and five children. Eight were born subse([uently. A horse team and wagon brought the family and their effects, and they were six weeks on the journey. They lived with Alva Curtis until tlieir log house was completed. This stood a short distance east of the present residence of his son, Geo. G. Morse, west of the Vermillion. The log house was occupied until 183.3, when the j)leasant frame house previously mentioned was erected. He and George Hinckley had a saw mill on the Vermillion in an early day, where Ileyman's grist and saw mill now stand; and they afterwards bought the old grist mill of Judge Brown, which had been removed to the same place from its original location near the Swift place. Mr. Morse died in December, 1835. Five of his children are living and four in Lorain county.

Ira AVood came into the township in 1831. His first location was west of the river, where John Stevenson now lives. Stephen Goodrich came in at the same time, and tiioy together established a tannery. Mr. Wood subse({uently sold liis interest to Goodrich, and moved to the east side of the river, where he now resides.

There were originally five lines of settlement in town, the lake shore and the four ridges parallel to it. * * * On the lake shore there were Brown, Seymour, James, Shepard, Weed, Dr. Brown, Goodrich, llart, Sly, Wells, Graham and Sheldon Johnson; and at a later day, Hawley Lathrop and Leach. Between the shore and the first ridge, Cooley, Barnum, Scott; and later, Perley Moulton and Rankin. Along the first ridge, Whittlesey, Alversou, Peter P. Pease, Cooper, Orrin Sage, Moulton, Joseph Scott and Ketchum; and later. Baker, Ewing, Lyon, Culver, ITirani Pease, Hamilton Perry, Parkhurst, Hastings, Bartlett, IIosford, Dimmock, Graves, Blodgett, Uemmingway, James Newbury and Job Smith. On the principal ridge, known as the North ridge, Andrews, Avery, Baldwin, Lincoln, Fairehild, Betts, Daniel Perry, and afterward his sons; the Bacons, three families, Curtis at the mill, Hinkley and Waters Betts; and beyond the river, Abishai Morse, Bradley, Hewett, Booth, Davis and his distillery, and Saunders. At a later day, along the same ridge, we have Belden, Samuel Curtis, Rodney Andrews, Henry Sage, Samuel Bacon, Leavenworth, Dr. Willard, Bailey, Kent Hawley, Edward Morse, Stephen Goodrich, Stephen Brown, John Newbury, Fancher, and manj' others still later. Along the middle ridge or near it, on one side or the other. Peck, George James, Seth Morse, Wallace, Jones; and at a later day, Harris, Locke, Van Dusen, Ira Rngg, Cable, Frisbie, Chapiu, Bushrod Perry, S. G. Morse, Parsons and Ii'a Wood;* and still further south, Joseph Swift. On the south ridge road, the earliest families were Powers, Leonard, Durand, Andrews, Hancock, Deiiison, Holcomb, Abbott and Fuller. This road was soon set off to Henrietta. * * * Almost all of those families came from the east, most from Berkshire county, Massachusetts, some from Connecticut, and a few from other parts. A very few, discouraged l)y sickness and by the hardships of the new country, returned east." * * * '-It was not a rare thing for young men to walk the entire distance from Massachusetts to Ohio, carrying a few indispensable articles upon their backs, in a white canvas knapsack. One or more of these kna])sacks might be found in almost every neighborhood during the early years, cherished as mementoes of such pedestrian feats. One young nuin brought in his 'pack,' from Massachusetts to this county, a pair of iron wedges, implements more valual)le to him than a wedge of gold. For myself, I have moving reason for recalling the knapsack; for I remember that in the old school house, my seat mate, I)elia Peck, and I shared together a fiagellation for smiling over the quaint won] knapsack, which we found in Webster's old spelling book, held between us. Some of my juvenile hearers will be impressed with the Puritan sternness of our early school discipline, when told that the smile was not audible, and that no whisper accomjianied it. Our rebellious hearts even then would (juestion the propriety of the chastisement.

As successive families came on, they found shelter for a few weeks with those who had preceded them, until they could roll up a log house, roof it with " shakes " and cut an opening for a door. Then

Colonel Elisha Franklin Peck

In the year 1817, Elisha Peck came to this country and made a selection of lands, and erected a log cabin in the town of Brownhelni, Lorain Co., Ohio, which at that time was an unbroken wilderness, after which he returned for his family, consisting of a wife and ten children ; and the year following made a permanent settlement, arriving Nov. 12, 1818. No furniture was in possession of the family, and a bedstead was improvised for the older members of the family the first night of their stay in the then far West, the children sleeping on the floor. Mr. Peek's purchase amounted to four hundred and fifty acres.

Col. E. F. Peck remained with his fttlier until he was twenty-one years of age, and in the month of August following started out in life for himself, with forty acres of land as a gift from his father ; and the same year started for Old Stockbridge, Mass., the old home, to attend school, but was taken sick at Buffalo, N. Y., while working on the harbor. He went to an uncle's in Orleans Co., N. Y., and remained four months. He then returned to Brownhelm, having abandoned the idea of attending school in Massachusetts, and purchased the interests of several members of the family in the estate of his father, and has since added materially to his possessions.

He was married, July 3, 1833, to Sally Ann, daughter of Abishua Morse. This union resulted in the birth of four children, whose names are as follows : Ann Milicent, Lydia

Col. Peck, now seventy-three years of age, is still vigorous and active, and only last fall (1878) plowed and prepared the soil for ten acres of wheat. He has cleared over two hundred acres of heavy timbered land. His physique even now proves the advantage of a life of sobriety, industry, and uprightness. His only education was obtained by giving one day of labor for one day of instruction in the elementary branches. Its practical benefits to himself and family are evinced by his success in life, financially and morally.

In politics. Col. Peck has always been a Democrat, with which party he is prominently identified, and a working member. He is earnest, even zealous in the advocacy of his convictions, and no matter what others may think as to the facts at issue, HE is sincere.

Prior to the late civil war, and during the old militia days, Mr. Peck joined an Ohio regiment, in which he became popular, both as a genial comrade and an able military commander, and passed through the several grades, from private in the ranks to that of colonel, being regimental commander when mustered out of service.

they would iiiove into tliuir new lioiiie and finish it :it leisure. This finishing consisted in laying a floor of planks split from logs, jmucheons as tliey were called, putting up a chimney in one end of the house, ordinarily of sticks plastered with clay, sonu^times of stone, with a large open flre-place, generally made with a hearth and hack, without jainl)s or nuintel, adding at length a door, when there was leisure to go to Shupe's mill on Beaver creek, for a board, and a window of glass if it could l)e had ; if not, oiled pa])er. A later stage in the operation consisted in "chinking" the cracks between the logs with pieces of wood"on the inside, and plastering them without with clay mortar. As leisure and prosperity followed, loose hoai'ds were laid above for a chamber floor, and in cases of unusual nicety and taste, the man dev.oted several evenings to hewing the logs on the sides Avithin, and peeling the bark from the round joists overhead. Families unusually favored had rough stairs to the loft above, otherwise a ladder. An excavation below, entered through a trap in the floor, served as a cellar. In rare cases, a family attained to the dignity of a sleeping room, separated fi'om the common living apartment by a board partition ; oftener chint/. curtains, or sheets, or quilts, secured the privacy of the bed. These often disajipeared as the wants of the fainily pressed, and the bed was left shelterless.

The furniture of this primitive home was as simple as the domicile itself. The bedstead was made of round poles, shaved or peeled, the posts at the head rising above the bed and joined by a bar in place of a headboard. Elm bark often served in place of a cord. The trundle-bed was the same thing on a smaller scale. A table was extemporized from the cover of a bo.x; in which the family goods w,ere brought from the east, while the box itself, with a shelf introduced, served as a cupboard for provisions. A shelf on the side of the room sup[)orted the crockery and tin ware, while a few stools, with now and then a back added, according to the mechanical skill or enterprise of the proprietor, served the place of chairs. This simple house, with its simjiler furniture, furnished a home by no means uncomfortable where health, and hope, and kindly feeling were the light of it. The skeleton frame house of the pioneer of modern days, without paint, or ceiling, or plaster, or tree to shelter it, will by no means compare with the snug, well chinked, substantial log house of the early settlers.

According to my recollection, the first frame house in town was built by Benjamin Bacon, and the next by Dr. Betts. I am quite sure that Mr. Bacon's was the first painted one that my eyes ever rested on. The first brick house in town, and indeed in the county, was built by m^' father, in 1824. To this day it is, I believe, the only brick house in the town. It was built with twenty thousand brick, at an aggregate cost of three hundred dollars. It has received some additions and improvements, but does not appear to lie as large as when it was first built. The first stylish house in town was .Judge Brown's, built in 182G, a grand affair in its day, and still a stately farm house. The great drawback of the country, and at the same time its chief advantage, was the grand old forest with which the entire surface was covered, furnishing everj' variety of tindier that could be needed in a new country, in (|uautities that seemed absolutely inexhaustible. Along tiie ridges the chestnut prevailed, tlie trunk from two to four feet in diameter, and a hundred feet in height, furnishing the best fencing material that any new country was ever blessed with. The ouly discount on the chestnut Avas in the fact that the stump would remain full thirty years, an offense to the farmer, unless some strenuous means were used to eradicate it. The surest way was to undermine it, and bury it ou the spot where it grew. The tree next in value for timber was the whitewood or tulip tree, of regal majesty, and second only to the white pine for finishing lumber, and for some uses superior to it. The oak and the hickory, in every variety and of magnificent proportions, were found everywhere; and, on the lowlands and river bottoms, the black walnut, probably tbe most stately tree of Northern Ohio forests, inferior in magnificence only to the famous red wood of California. A single specimen was standing on the Vermillion I'iver bottom at a recent date, which was said to measure fifteen feet in diameter above the swell of the roots. In the early years, this valuable fancy timber only ranked next to the chestnut, and there are barns and cowsheds in town roofed with clean black walnut boards, two feet and more in width. With the first settlers, these magnificent forests were not held in high appreciation. They were esteemed usurpers of the soil, and the great endeavor was to exterminate them. The coming generation will not be able to comprehend the labor involved in this enterprise, or the pluck that could accomplish it. "A man was famous according as he lifted up axes upon the thick trees." No ironsinewed engina.was at hand to take the brunt of the work. The pioneer himself, eipiipped only with his axe, a yoke of oxen and a log chain, must attack, lay low and reduce to ashes the forests that overhung his farm. The men that accomplished this were sturdy in liml) and strong in heart. A feeble race would have retired from the encounter. 'J'he ])ioneerof tlie present day, who has only to turn over the pi'airie sod, and wait for the harvest, can know little of the labor involved in settling a heavy-timbered country. Yet, if this had been a prairie country, its settlement must have been deferred full twenty years. The forests were a vast store house of material for building and fencing, and for fuel. The house involved no outlay of capital. Stern labor could accomplish everything. But for these forests each family would have required a capital of a thousand or two of dollars, and facditiesfor the transportation of lumber and other material would have been required, and a market where the products of the soil could bo ex- changed for tliese materials. The pioneer found his best friend in the forest, but the friendship was one of stern conditions, yielding its advantages only lo tlio brave hearted. It is a little sad to look back to the uncounted thousands of splendid trees of white wood, and oak. and ash, and hickory, and black walnut, and cliestuul. wliich by dint of vast lalior were reduced to ashes, and recall the fact that each one of these trunks, if now standing where it grew, ,vonld sell for ten to Hfty dollars. Indeed, it is probable that if the original forests could bo replaced, the standing t iniber would i)ring more at sale than the. farms of the townshi]i, with all their improvements, are now worth. But our case is not peculiar; at some such sacj-ilicc every new country is settled. The farms of New England would to-day scarce sell for enough to construct theston(^ walls that separate their fields. The grain that has rotted on the prairie farms of Illinois for want of barns and granaries, sold in the market to-day, would buy all the farms of that I'ich State. To regret such a circumstance is only less absurd than to mourn over the fact that Adam did not put out a few dollars at compound interest, which by endless reduplications would have furnished every child of Adam with a fortune. There is amusement in such figures, but no instruction. The divine wisdom that planned the continent, jdaced the prairies west of the forests, and the gold still farther on in the direction of the "march of empire." Any otheiarrangement would have obstructed or greatly retarded the occupation of the country.

The habit contracted in the clearing of the lands, the passion for destroying trees, has sometimes survived the necessity, and even to this day needs a little guarding. The men who rejoiced over the fall of every tree, are not likely to cherish with sufficient care the I'emuants of the grand old forests, or to rejilaiit on the grounds, cleared with so much labor, the trees necessary for shade, and ornament, and utility. I have seen a splendid elm, the delight of a whole village, ruthlessly cut down by some border ruttian whose only thought of trees is to cut them down, liut such was our early training. The gladdest sound of our childhood was the crash of falling trees, and mother and children together rushed out of the cabin as each giant fell, to see how the area of vision was extended. Thus, slowly and with huge labor, the cleared circle expanded around each home. When ground was rei(uired for cultivation more rapidly than it could be thoroughly cleared the plan of "girdling" or deadening" was adopted, which killed the larger trees and left them standing. The advantage was a doubtful one. The falling limbs of the girdled trees destroyed the crops and sometimes the cattle, and often crushed the fences, and now and then the cabin itself; and a fire in a girdling on a windy autumn night was full of terror to a whole neighborhood. The loss of many a hay-stack, and barn, and house, wa-; the price of the seeming advantage. Then, too, the final clearing away of the branchless timber, ease hardened in the sun, was a more discouraging work than the original thorough clearing would have been. But these facts were only learned by experience, and so every settlement had its "girdling."

It was a stern work, the clearing u|i and subduing of these beautiful farms, snatching meanwhile from among the countless stumps, by hasty culture, the support of the family, and in many cases the means of jiaying for the farm, or at least the interest on the purchase jjrice, until a brighter day should bring the princii)al. He was a fortunate man who brought from the east the jn-ice of his land. It many cases it made the difference between success and failure. It was very discouraging, after a straggle of years with'hard work and sickness, to find the original debt increasing instead of diminishing; and it is not strange that here and there one sold his " improvements" fertile means of conveying his family back to the e:istern home, and retired from the conflict. The great majority stood bravely to the work, and achieved a. satisfactory success.

It is ditlicult for the young people of this day to appreciate the conditions of living in the new settlement. We need to recall the fact that northern Ohio, fifty years ago, was farther from the ai)j)liances of civilization than any portion of North America reckoned halii table, is to-day. The canal through the State of New York was not in existence, had scarcely been dreaiiied of. Western New York itself was mostly a howling wilderness. The articles needed in the now country could not be brought from the far east except at ruinous cost, and for the produce of the new country the only market was that made by the wants of the occasional new families that joined the settlement. These generally brought a little money, which was soon divided amonti; their neighbors. The families in general came well furnished with clothing, after the New England fashion ; but a year or two of wear and tear in the woods, sadly reduced the store. The children did not slop growing in the woods, nor in those days did they cease to multiply and replenish the earth. The outgrown garments of the older children might serve for the younger, but where were the new garments for these older children to grow into r' Flax could be raised, and summer linen of tow, and bleached linen, and copperas stripe, could be manufactured, when hands and health could be found to do it. Every woman was a spinner, but only here and there was a weaver, and each family had to come in for its turn. The old garments often grew shabby before the piece which was to furnish the summer wear of the family could be put through the loom. In autumn the difficulty was increased. The material for winter clothing could not be extemporized in the new country. Sheep came in slowly. At first they were not safe from wolves, and afterwards the new lands proved unwholesome to them, and they died, often suddenly, without visible cause. But when wool could not be obtained, the process of man- ufacture was slow ami the time unuertuiii. The spinning was a matter that could be managed ; tlie weaving involved uncertainty, anil then the web must be sent to tlie ch)th-dress(u- and bide its time. It might come home long after tlianksgiving, long after winter school began. Thus an unreasonable demand was made upon the summer clothing, a demand which it conld bnt poorly answer. It was not rare to see a boy at school with his summer pants drawn over the remnants of his last winter's wear, a combination which ])rovided both for warmth and decency. Some families dispensed altogether with the clothier's services, and by the aid of a butternut dye gave their cloth a home dressing, avoiding the loss of time and the loss of surface by shrinkage - both important elements in the solution of the problem of clotiiing tlie boys. The undressed cloth was indeed rather light for winter, especially when the extravagance of underelotliing, or of overcoats for the l)oys was never dreamed of; but it was very much better than none.

Tiie various devices for making clothing serve its |)urpose as long as jKissible, were in use, and some ingei i(jus ones, unknown at the ])resent day. Pantaloons were given a longer lease of life by facing the exposed portions with home-dressed deerskin. This served an admirable purpose, as long as there was enough of the original g.irnunt left to sui^ily a skeleton; bnt at length tlis wiiole fabric would break down together, like the "wonderful one horse shay." (iarmcnts made wholly of buckskin were sometimes attempted, but after a single wetting and drying, they were as uncomfortable as if made of siieet iron. Leather was scarce, and shoes as a conseipience. Here and there was a tannery, after a year or two; hut where were the hides? Cattle were scarce, and too valuable to be sacriliced for such small comforts as shoes and, tallow candles, and fresh beef. If some disease had not appeared among them, now and then, the case would have b(*n still worse. But in those simple times, a hide could not be tanned in a day. After l(.)ng months the leather came, but shoemakers, proverbially slow, were indeliuitely slower, when their out door work absorbed their energies, and they resorted ti) the bench only for spare evenings and rainy days. The boy must go for his shoes a half score of times, and return with a jiromise for next week. The snow often came before the shoes, and then the shoes themselves would he a curiosity. - made as they were indiscriminately from the skins of the hog, the d(jg, the deer, and the wolf. I remember to have worn all these myself.

Sometimes when the household store of clothing seemed nearly exliausted, and every garment had served its generation in a half dozen diiferent forms, a box would come from the east, brought by some family moving into the new country, well charged with half worn garments and new cloth, and a stray string of dried ajiples to till out a corner, enough to make glad the hearts of the recipients for a year.

says we are rich now.*' saiil three little boys to a neighbor's children, whum they met in the road, after the arrival of a box from Stockliridge. " Well," was the reply, " we are not rich, we are poor, and poor folks go to heaven, and rich folks don't." This was a new view of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, and the linys went home ipiite crest-fallen.

It relieved this experience of povei-ty that all shared in it. Many of our wants are merely relative. We need good things liecaiise our neighbors have them. But in those days, there were few contrasts to disturb even the poorest. Still, without any reference to others, there is some slight discomfort to a boy in calling at a neighbor's house in such a plight that he cannot safely turn his back to the people as he leaves the house; or in crossing the meadow on a frosty morning with bare feet, stopping now and then to warm them on a stone not so cold as the grass.

In the matter of necessary food, the new country was more generous. The soil yielded abundantly when once brought under cultivation, furnishing the substantial of life. The material of bread was abundant, but in a dry season, the wheat could not be ground. Brown's mill, on the Vermillion, was the first to fail; then Shui)e's, on Beaver creek, or Starrs, at Birmingham, and last, Ely's, at Elyria. The grists were ground in the order of their rece])tion, and sometimes a family was obliged to wait weeks for its turn, as the water was sufficient only for an hour's work in a day; and sometimes the mill rested for days in succession. Then it was no small enterprise to go to Elyria to mill. There was a, time within my own recollection, when there wei'e not a half dozen horses in town. Mr. Peck had a sjian. Mr. Bacon one, and Judge Brown a span. These horses were freely lent, but they could not meet the requirements of the entire settlement, when the mill was a dozen miles away, and still be of any use to their owners. When one went to mill with a team, he was expected to carry the grists of his neighbors, or bring them home, if he found them ground. When the mills were at rest, it was allowable to Itoi row as long as there was any flour in the neighboi'hood, and when it failed, we enjoyed a week's variety of corn," or pounded wheat. There was a little pt-ril to young hands in this work of "jointing" corn, and many a thuml), fifty jears old or less, bears marks as mysterious to the children of this day, as the fossil bird tracks of the Connecticut sand stone.

Pork was the staple arti( le in flesh diet, an ox or a cow being too valuable to slaugliter. For flesh meat we had venison and other wild game, - so plenty at times as to become a drug. In the view of those who lived here in the early days, such meats are likely to be regarded as fancy adornments of a bill of fare, not satisfactory as an every day reliance. A\'hen an original Brown heliner goes to the city, he is not likely to call for venison, unless to recall the early exjierienee, as the people of Israel used unleavened bread and bitter Imrlis at tin; passover. lie lui.s douc his diUj in that, line of eating. Roasted I'accoon and baked opossum were never popular. Those may enjoy wiio have never tasted.

Our sup|)ly of fruits was not abundant. Tiirce years sufiiced to liring tlie i)eacli into bearing from the stone; hence, this was the earliest cultivated fruit. And we had peaches in those times. Tiie diseases and insects that ruin the peach tree were then unknown. A wagon load of the finest peaclics could be liad for the gathering. Peach cider was attem|)ted in various parts of the town, before the advent of teetotalisni, but the cause of temperunce never suffered from it. Apples and pears came on very slowly. The plan of grafting was not much in use, and the virgin soil which stimulated the growth of wood, was not favorable to early fruitage. I remember that I was called from bed one morning to see an apple tree in lilossom, the first I ever saw. In the thought of tlie children of that time, the forbidden fruit of Eden was an ap[ile. Nothing else could be such a temptation. Now and then a stray apple reached us from the orchard of Horatio Perry, or of Judge Ruggles in Vermillion. And what a Havor there was in that slice from a pippin, i)rought by Mi'. Alverson. all the way from Stockbridge, in his knapsack! We have no apples now-a-days! The first pear tliat the boy tasted lie w;is not allowed to see. He was told to shut his eyes and opan liis miuth. and a bit of the delicious mystery was placed iqion his tongue.

Sugar could be obtained from the Uiaple then, as now, but the maple tree was not abundant in the township. Many farms were entirely destitute of it, and few families made sugar enough for the year's suii[>ly. It was not a rare tiling for a family to be without sugar for months in succession. Honey and pumpkin molasses were used as substitutes for sweetening tea and nniking gingerbread, - noc quite equal to refined sugar; but they served to keep alive the idea of sweetness.

Genuine tea, - old or young hyson, - was regarded as a necessary of life, and no well conditioned family could be found without it; but it would astonish a modern housekeeper to hear how small a (piantity would meet the necessity. Children never needed it; it was not good for them; and a pound would supply a family for a year. Tea must have been a different tiling in those times. A single teasjioonful, well steepi'd, would furnisli socialiility to a half dozen ladies of an afteriKx.in: and the same pot, refilled with water, would charm away the weariness of the men folks, when they returnad from their work. A cargo of such tea, in these days, would make the fortune of the importer. Store coffee was essentially unknown, and therefore not needed.

The table furniture was simple, and the frugal habits of New England on this point, favored the condition of the peojile. The food was placed in a common dish in the middle of the table, the potato mashed and seasoned to the taste, and the meat cut in niouthfuls ready for appropriation. A knife and fork at each place sufficed, or even one of them would do for the children. A drinking-cup or tumbler at each end of the table was ample. If bread and milk was the bill of fare, a single bowl and spoon could do duty for the entire family, going down from the oldest to the youngest. This may seem like imagination - it is simple fact. Commonly a tin basin or pewter porringer went around among the younger children ; but as they grew older they preferred to wait, for the sake of using the crockery ware.

In those dark-walled log cabins, a single tallow candle would not seem so afford superfluous light of a winter evening ; but only favored families could indulge the luxury. The candle was lighted when visitors came. At other times the bright wood fire was the chief reliance, and for sewing or reading a nicked tea saucer filled with hog's fat, and a wick of twisted rag projecting over the edge. This was the classic lamji of the log cabin, open to accident indeed, but a dash of grease on the puncheon floor was an immaterial circumstance. Two dipped candles furnished the light for an evening meeting, the hour for which was very properly designated as "early candle lighting." The out door life of the early settlers iiresented some peculiar features. The chief item of farm work was clearing land. The first, and in some respects the most valuable products of this labor, was derived from the ashes of the burnt forests. I'lack salts, or potash, concentrated much value in a small bulk ; and hence would bear transportation to a distant market. For years it was the only article of farm produce which would bring money. Some trader at the mouth of Black river, or at Elyria, would )>ay one-third cash for this article, and the balance in goods. Thus the farmer could raise the money to pay his taxes, and a little more for tea and cotton cloth, which were always cash articles. Wheat and corn would not sell for cash, except occasionally a little to an immigrant, until about the time of the completion of the Erie canal. It was the height of jirosperity when at length white flint corn came to sell at eighteen cents a bushel, and white army beans at thirty to fifty cents. From tliat day we were "out of the woods."

The apjiliances for farm culture were not the most efficient. Horses and wagons came slowly. Oxen and carts, however, furnished a very good substitute, indeed, were best suited to the work in the midst of logs and stumps. They were not so convenient for trips to mill, or to market, or to meeting ; but they were made to answer all these ]iurposes. Indeed, a single ox, fitlv harnessed, was sometimes made to do duty as a horse in plowing corn. The plow of these times was such as each faryier possessing a little mechanical gumption, could make for himself. The share, as it was called by coui-tesy, was brought from the east, made of wrought iron and pointed with steel. The mould-board was split from an oak log and hewed into a slightly sjiiral form, and the whole

WHS bound together by'a bolt which uxleinlL'd from ;t block at the base up tlirough the beam. The clear, shiuing furrow of the modern plowman could not follow such an implement. I remember well the sensation produced by the first cast-iron plow brought into the country. Peojile came miles to see it. The only dniwback was that when the point failed, it could be replaced only by sending to Massachusetts, except that the i)roprietor chanced to be enough of a Yankee to whittle out a mould for himself, and thus obtained a perpetual supply from a furnace at Blyria. Mechanics and artisans appeared slowly. All the energies of the people were concentrated ujion clearing the land, and they had no surplus means to support mechanics who should supply them with the refinements of life. Shoemakers were first called for, and some men found themselves shoemakers who had never been suspected, either by their friends or themselves, of any acquaintance w'ith the art. Among the first who wore recognized as accomplished artists in this line, were Mr. Peck and his sons, Mr. Scott near the stone quarry, Mr. Wells on the lake, and afterward Mr. Hosford and his sons. Mr. Peck established a tannery, and could thus perform the whole labor of transforming into shoes the few hides which the murrain furnished to a reluctant community. The shoemaker often went from house to house, making shoes for the entire family, an operation that was called "whipi)ing the cat."

The first blacksmith in town, and the only one for many years, was Deacon Shepard. A farmer like the rest, he spent his mornings and evenings and rainy days at his anvil. Such double service would seem too much for ordinary endurance; but the deacon still walks among the people whom he thus served, able, in his eighty-third year, to do a good day's work. Seth JMorse made rakes, scythe snaths and farm cradles. Mr. Blodgett manufactured our brooms, and Solomon Whittlesey converted the farmer's black salts into pearlash. Alfred Avery was a wheelwright, and of course a carpenter, more strictly devoted to his trade than most of the first mechanics. Thomas Sly, on the lake shore, was a carpenter, and his son James after him; on the south ridge, Durand and Hancock. Many of the farmers had sufficient skill in the working of wood to construct their plows, sleds, ox-yokes and ordinary farming implements, and to jjut an axle into a cart or wagon. Ezekiel Goodrich, on the lake shore, was the first cabinet maker. There was no brick or stone mason in the early settlement. The only work in that line was the building of stick chimneys, and now and then one of stone and brick, and pointing the crevices of the log cabins every winter with clay - even the boys learned to do this. Such extempore mason-work was not always reliable. The stone chimney in the house built for Dr. Betts buried Mr. Pease in its ruins one day, when he was engaged laying the hearth. He was bruised, not killed.

place. After two or three years, it was removed down the river and placed by the side of a saw mill, owned by Hinckley and Morse, and is the same mill now owned by Benjamin Bacon - the same perhaps in the sense that the boy's knife was the same after having a new blade and a new handle. Its original infirmity was want of motive power in a dry time, a weakness from which it has never fully recovered - the failure of the dam in a wet time, and the freezing up of the wheel in winter.

There is now - fall of 1878 - one grist mill in the township. This is the mill of John H. Heyman, called the " Brownlielm Mills," situated in West Brownhelm, on the Vermillion. The mill was erected by the present owner, in the fall of 1877, at a cost of some fifteen thousand dollars. There are three run of stones, beside a middlings stone. The mill is usually run by water power, but an engine has been added for use in dry seasons. The new process, called the "steaming process," is adopted in the manufacture of flour, which consists simply of steaming the wheat about six hours before grinding. About three hundred barrels of fiour are now shii^ped per week, the principal market for which is Cleveland. It is one of the best establishments of the kind in this section of country. Mr. Heyman also has, in connection with his grist mill, a saw mill, run by the same motive power.

The first carding and cloth-dressing establishment was built by Uriah Hawley and Charles Whittlesey, on the Vermillion, but a little southwest of Brownhelm territory. The first hotel in town was kept by Alva Curtis, first in his log house, afterwards in a more stately structure. It was always a pleasant home for a traveler. The sign itself gave notice that Sunday calls were not desired. Travelers were also entertained, for a consideration, at any house at which they felt inclined to stop.

Mr. Curtis brought the first stock of goods into the town, and opened a store. His assortment was not extensive, but I remember buying there, one day, a clay tobacco pipe - a present for Aunt Patty Andrews, whose favor was very valuable to all boys who loved kindly words and doughnuts - and an illustrated edition of "Cock Robin" for myself. Stores were afterwards opened at Black River, Elyria, South Amherst, North Amherst, and, in 1830, one by Ezekiel Goodrich, on the lake shore in Brownhelm, afterwards I'emoved to the ridge road, near Mr. Curtis'.

The stores in town at the present time are the following: F. M. McGregor, Sunshine and Stevenson in West Brownhelm; W. H. Cooley, at Bacon's Corners; Gilison Brothers, .J. Clark, at the station, and Chauncey Peck on Middle ridge.

Educational

The first school in town was opened by Mrs. Alverson, in her own house, in the summer of 1819. In the autumn of the same year, the first school house was built, of logs of course, on the brow of the hill just west of Dr. Perry's. The old biittoruut tree, which still survives, stood ne:ir the door. The site was romantic, but it was ajjparently selected to give the teachers the opportuuity of forbidding sliding down hill and wading in the brook. The house was of modest dimensions, eighteen by twenty-two, but was still thought by some to indicate too ambitious a disposition on the part of the people who lived on this road. Hence the street was nicknamed "Street street" by a man who would have the house twelve feet square - a title it bore for many years.

This school house was finished with a stick chimney, and a broad fireplace without jambs. A board around the house, resting on pins projecting from the walls, served for desks; and whitewood slabs, supjiorted by pins, made the seats. Loose boards lying on joists made a loft above, and an excavation beneatli the floor, reached Ijy raising a board, served as a dungeon for the punishment of offenders. In our childish simplicity, we suj>posed the excavation was made for the purpose, with malice prepense, but I have since ascertained that it was an accidental result of making mortar to build the chimney.

My father taught the school the first two winters, and children from every part of the town attended. There was no public school fund in those times, and the teacher received his compensation in work in his "chopping" the next spring, day for day, the work being distributed among the families according to the number of children attending the school. For years afterwards the teacher received his pay in farm produce. Among the earlier teachers in that house were Abby Harris, Amelia Peek and Pamelia Curtis. Miss Pamelia herself was but a child, thirteen years of age; and, although she sustained her responsibilities with remarkable dignity, it is not difficult to recall, in a retrospect, some childish arrangements. One summer day she placed her chair on the table, removed a board from the floor aliove, lifted the children up one by one, and kept school up stairs - the excuse being that Colonel Brown's bull had been seen loose around the street that day, and he might be wild - an ample reason in the imagination of both teacher and children. Many pleasant memories gather about the old school house, in spite of the strijied lizards that burroughed in its crevices to frighten nervous girls, and the yawning chasm below, in which heedless boys were often engulfed.

In 1834 the "yellow school house" was built,a few feet west of the log one, and the boys had the exquisite pleasure of rolling the old house down the hill. This yellow school house was an elegant one in its day, painted throughout and plastered. It was no ordinary school house, but a genuine academy, furnished with unusual apparatus, globes, and wall maps, and pantograph, and tables for map-drawing and painting, all under the charge of accomplished teachers. This was the first attempt in the county, and indeed in a much wider region, at a school of anything more than a local character. The enterprise originated with.

and was carried forward almo^ wholly by iJr. Belts. It prospered for two or three years, attracting young ladies in the summer from all the older settlements, within a distance of twenty miles; from Milan, Norwalk, Florence, Elyria, Sheffield, etc. Mary Harris of Florence, afterward Mi-s. IIo])kins of Milan, taught the school the first two summers; after her, Mary Green, now Mrs. Miles of Elyria. The first winter Mortimer Strong, and the second and third Mr. Parkhurst, were the teachers. The first summer the house was without fire. In cool, wet weather the boys kept u)i an out-door fire; and between the damp plastering within, and the rain without, some of the children took the ague and shook the summer through. In the fall a stove was bought, probably the first that was ever brought into town, a diminutive box stove, eighteen inches in length, but a wonder to the chil- <lren of the woods, who had never seen a stove. Over that we shivered two or three winters, when it was succeeded by a larger stove cast in plates, but utterly destitute of clamping rods to hold it together. No man in the community knew tiiat such a thing was necessary, and it was no rare occurrence for a long stick to thrust out the end plate, and occasionally the whole fabric collapsed at once. But such annoyances were but trifles, and the Brownhelm sciiool maintained a character above that of other schools in the country around. Among the earlier teachers, besides those mentioned, were J. A. Harris now of Cleveland; his sister, Miss Emeline Harris, now Mrs. Tenney; Miss Mary Whittlesey, and .John Curtis. There was no other school in town the first dozen years or more. After three or four years it ceased to be anything but a local school. The old yellow school house went ofl' in a blaze some years ago.

In the summer of 1830, Rev. Hervey Lyon opened an academy in a small house built for the purpose, a little east of Mr. Pease's. This was kept up two years, and attended by small number of pupils, a few of whom commenced Latin and Greek in preparation for college. This was the first classical school in the county, and gave place to the Elyria high school, established in 1832, of which Mr. and Mrs. Mouteith were the first teachers. This school enjoyed two years of great prosperity, until the school at Oberlin was o])ened in 1834, which at once took the lead aud has maintained it.

The report of the clerk of the boai-d of education for the year ending August 31, 1878, gives the following statistics in regard to schools, viz:

The early settlers were in earnest in religions matters, as well as in education. They were not all members of the church, but they had all been trained in New England habits, and prominent men like Alva Curtis aud Colonel Brown, who did not at first have was born in Stockbridge, Berkshire Co., Mass., Aug. 25, 1812, and was the seventh child in a family of eight children of Enos and Anna (Ashley) Cooley, both of New England ance.stry. During the fall of 1817, Enos Cooley and family started west with a span of horses and wagon, and arriving at Batavia, N. Y., stopped over until the month of February following. He was very poor in this world's goods, and had nothing with which to start except a good constitution and a desire to succeed for the benefit of his family. Young Chester had to work hard, fare poorly, and all the amusement he ever had in youth was fishing and 'cooning. They arrived at Brownhelni towards the last of the year 1818, and purchased one hundred acres of land, upon which they erected a fine, hewed log house, the corners being squared by Mr. Cooley himself, he being a practical mechanic. This primitive residence stood about one mile south of the lake, and two miles north of the present residence of Chester A. Cooley. The superior quality of the log house, however, did not furnish food for the family, so that they traded one of their horses for a cow, which helped a little. The creature had to procure its own fodder in the woods, and sometimes the family were minus the diurnal supply of the lacteal fluid owing to the nonappearance of the bovine. Its absence sometimes extended over four or five days. Mr. Cooley, p^jr, went to Elyria and worked in Judge Ely's mills, while the children cleared the land. Clearing up the forest, however, was somewhat detrimental to their clothing, so that one of the boys shouldered his knapsack and proceeded on foot to Ma.ssachusetts for a fresh supply of cloth, earning the same in a factory where he had previously worked. These and similar privations the pioneers had to bear, but little by little the country bt'gan to settle up, and many of the difliculties of their situation were removed. At the age of twenty-eight, and on the -Ith of November, 1840, Chester married CatharineB.jdaughterof Grandison and Nancy (Harris) Fairchild, who settled in Brownhelni in the fall of 1818. By this union were born two sons, - James Francis, born Oct. 11, 1841 ; was married, in March, IStJo, to P]ffie Darby, sLster of William Sayles' first wife; died Aug. 12, 1863, ot diphtheria. He was a remarkably good son and brother, cheerful, careful, and conscientious. He watched over his younger brother with tender solicitude, and was faithful in every duty both at home and at school. While attending Oberlin College, and boarding with his uncle. Professor (now President) Fairchild, his mother once inquired whether he was a good boy. The professor said, "You know you need not ask. I never saw such a boy ; he is always in the right place at the right time." He taught school, and was also engaged at Sabbathschool teaching. Although not a profes.sor of religion he was a devout Christian, and his death, after a painful illness of onl_y four days, was a sore bereavement alike to his parents and to his recently married wife.

The other son of Mr. and Mrs. Cooley, William H., was born Sept. 27, 1843 ; was married, July 8, 1865, to Sarah Butler. They have two daughters and one son, viz. : Caroline Madora, born Nov. 19, 1870 ; Catharine Eloise, born Feb. 2, 1874; Wm. Butler, born June 15, 1878.

Chester A. Cooley first purchased fifty acres of land, for which he went in debt. He paid for it by working for Judge Brown and others, and making staves from the timber on his land. In 1846 he sold out and bought one hundred acres where he now resides. He cast his first vote, in 1840, for General Harrison. He afterwards became an antislavery man, and is now a Democrat. He is an honest, conscientious Christian, a first-class fiirmer, and a good citizen. William, his only son, is a merchant at Brownhelm, and also postmaster and town treasurer. He follows in his father's footsteps, and is generally esteemed a worthy member of society. He was for several years superintendent of the Sabbath-school, himself and wife being members of the Congregational Church.

!i standing in tlie clnircli, still maintained family prayer and aided in the Sabl)aili services. A meeting was held at Judge Urown's house by Deacon James, the Sabbath before July -i, 1817, and from that day to this public worshi[) has l)een held on the Sabbath, unless for a single day l-he violence of a storm may have prevented the gathering. The first meetings were held at Judge Brown's, afterwards at Solomon Whittlesey's, and then at Mr. Barnum's, a little north of the stone qnarry.

At this point the first meeting house was built in 1819, a neat and commodious structure for the new country, constructed of pealed logs, with a genuine shingle roof, and a stone chimney and fire place. The infii-mity of this part of the arrangement was that the mantle was of wood, which often took fire on a winter day, and one of the young men, Frederic Brown, or Chauncey Peck, or Rodney Andrews, was obliged to bring water or snow to extinguish it, while the rest of the congregation were occupied with the calculation how long it would be before the chimney would come down upon them. The seats were like t hose of the log school house, slates on pins. The men were ranged on one side the house and the woniui on th3 othor, facing e:nh other, with a broad aisle between, at one end of which stood the pulpit. As times improved and lumber became abundant, one man made a comfortable settee for his family; others followed his example, and in a few weeks the whole congregation were provided for. The only dedication of the house of which I ever heard, was by Deacon Beardsley, of Vermillion. Passing the building one day when it was nearly finished, he went in to see if the house would seem like the old log meeting house that he had known in Connecticut. The spirit of the Jjord seemed to come upon him, and with a solemn ]U'ayer he consecrated the house, and received an assurance of great spiritual blessings to come soon upon the i)eople. The ))romised blessing was not long delayed. In the great revival that followed, almost all tlie young i)eople were gathered into the church.

The church was organized June 10, 1819, at tlie house of Solomon Whittlesey, and consisted of sixteen members, seven men and nine women. Four of the sixteen are now living: Levi Shepard and Grandison Fairchild, Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Fairchild; and three are present to-day. The ministers that officiated in its organization were Messrs. Treat and Seward, mis- .sionai'ies of the Connecticut Missionary Society, and members of the Portage Presbytery. The church was congregational, under the care of Presbytery, after the "plan of union." Stephen James was the first deacon, and afterward Levi Shepard was elected; Grandison Fairchild was clerk. Rev. A. II. Betts, known through the country as Dr. Betts, from the fact that he had studied medicine, was the first minister. He began preaching to tlie church in the fall of 1820, and was ordained and installed April 5, 1831. He continued pastor until, at his own recpiest, he was dismissed in 1833.

The practice of the congregation was to meet for service at half past ten Sabbath mornings, to take a recess of an hour for rest, and for lunch, which they took with them to meeting; visiting the spring under the rocks for water, and returning for afternoon service. There were only two or three families tiiat lived near enough to go home at noon. A sight of the old congregation would lie refreshing to-day - the women ill their Sunday's best, the men in their shirt sleeves, the boys and girls with bare feet. Mr. Peck, at the head of the high seat with his pitch pijie, Judge Brown next, and Dr. Betts in the pulpit. After the Sabbath school was introduced, this was held at noon. The first Sabbath school was opened June 1, 1828, Sabbath morning, in the yellow school house, with about a dozen children and two teachers - my father and Pamelia Curtis. It was afterwards transferred to the meeting house and held at noon. The chief feature of the school at that day was the learning and reciting of scripture, each scholar having the privilege of selecting his own passages and learning as many as possible. A single scholar would sometimes repeat more than a hundred at a lesson. One such in a class would nearly consume the hour. Before 1830, the Sabbath school was reorganized, under the superintendence of Frederic Brown, who had been living at the east, and returned all alive with interest in the Sabbath school work. The plan of limited lessons was adopted, and the Sabbath school became a religious power in the community of great efficiency.

It was the time of a great religious movement in the land, in connection with which protracted meetings were first extensively introduced, commonly known as "four days" meetings." These meetings gathered not merely the communities where they were held, but people from neighboring towns attended in large numbers. They were not like the protracted meetings of the present day, occupying the evening with a single preaching service, proceeded by a prayermeeting, leaving the people free during a large part of the day for their usual avocations. At these four days' meetings, the people gathered in the morning, taking a luncheon for themselves and for visitors from abroad, and the entire day was devoted to preaching, prayer and inquiry meetings. Evening meetings followed in the different neighborhoods.

Such a meeting was held at Browiihelm, in the summer of 1831, under a bower, in the forest, just north of the stone quarry. The old meeting house was not large enough. The weather was iiropitious, and the meeting was fruitful of results. The religious interest which had been accumulating for many months, in connection with the Sabbath school work, reached its culmination. Many were greatly quickened in their religious life, and many more were induced to enter upon such a life. It was a season to be remembered for a generation. Similar meetings were held at Elyria and at Vermillion earlier in the season, and the influence extended through the region. Mr. Shipherd, of Elyria, Mr. Bradstreet, of Vermil- liou, Mr. Jndson, of Milan, and several others, were recognized as leaders in the work. Probably no other siicli gejieral movement lias been knoAvn in the history of northern Ohio.

The old log meeting house, about this time, became uncomfortable for winters and inadequate for summers, and the jjcople moved towards a better house. It was soon found dilHcult to bring the interests of the lake shore and the ridge to harmonize upon a location. An old Stockbridge difficulty between the Plain and the North settlement, found an echo here in the woods, and, perhaps, predisposed to a reproduction of the quarrel. After sundry meetings and conferences, the question was referred to a committee of discreet men from abroad, vvliose decision was to be final. This committee consisted of Deacon (h-oeker, of Dover, Deacon Clark, of Vermillion, and Deacon Fuller, of Berlin. They diove the stake in my father's peach orchard, and there the church was.

The first attempt at a buildiug was essentially a failui-e. Mr. Culver was the architect, a man of mechanical genius, but deficient in practical judgment; and the building, having no cross beams to supj)ort the roof, and relying solely on braced and trussed plates, commenced life with a broken back. After an inglorious career, it gave place to the present cheerful and graceful structni-e built by Alfred Betts. * * *

The church now - fall of 1878 - has a membership of eighty-five. Allen D. Blakeslee is pastor; John Goodrich, clerk; 0. H. Perry, treasurer; J. C. Cliapin, C. L. Perry and George Wells, deacons. The Sabbath school, now under the superintendency of C. B. Bacon, has a membership of two hundred and ten scholars.

A Methodist Episcopal class was formed in West Brownhelm in about the year 1841, called the Brownhelm class. The records of the church have not been preserved, and we could obtain but little information concerning it. The erection of a church building was commenced not long after the organization of the class, but was not finished, for want of means, for several years after. It was dedicated by Elder Lyon, of Sandusky. There is no settled pastor, but regular preaching is had, the Rev. Mr. Smith, of Vermillion, officiating. No Sabbath school.

The Evangelical Association was organized by Rev. Lutz in the year 1847. 1 he earlier meetings of the society were held in the school house in the southeast part of the town. A house of worship was erected on Middle ridge in 1865, at a cost of one thousand two hundred dollars. The church has now a membership of fifty. The pastor is Rev. Jacob Ilunniker. A Sabbath school was organized subsequently, and now numbers nearly sixty scholars.

The German Reformed Church was organized in 1848. Services were held at first in the school house in district number one, and, subsequently, after the division of the district, the society purchased the school house and occupied it as a house of worship until 1870, when the building at the station was erected. The cost of this church was one thousand six hundred dollars. The first pastor was Rev. Meis. Rev. G. II. Kulilen, of Vermillion, now officiates. There is a Sunday school of thirty scholars, of which (Jhristopher Leimbach in superintendent.

The people of Brownhelm, in the early times, felt reasonable complacency in their social, literary and religious jirivileges, and in the good order and morality which distinguished the place. Crime was rare, and rowdyism almost unknown. If a boisterous company, now and then, passed along the street-s, it was assumed that they were from Black River, a township which then embraced Amherst. If my recollection is not at fault, there was only one drunkard in town, even before the commencement of the temperance movement. But the temperance movement came none too soon. The habit of drinking at raisings and trainings, and of having liquors in the house for social occasions, and for ]>rivate use, was universal; and the young were forming a taste for it. In 1827, some account reached us of the growing interest at the east on the subject, and on Thanksgiving day, Dr. Betts preached on temperance. The same evening, I think it was, several boys from the neighborhood were spending the evening at our house, the older people having gathered at a neighbor's house. The boys, after some conference on the subject, drew up a i)ledge, one or two of them having learned to write, and all signed it, - a pledge to abstain from the use of all distilled sjiirits. This was the first temperance organization in the township, - , the first, in fact, in the county. This pledge was I circulated, and led to the formation of a vigorous ' temperance society. From that time the use of spirits \ declined, until it was no longer furnished on public ' or social occasion, or kejit for private use. Davis' distillery went to ruin, and young men were saved who had been exposed to great danger.

Until about this time, a few Indians had lingered about the region, some times jiassing by in considerable jiartiesfrom the neighlxirhodd uf Upper Sandusky. They were harmless after tlie war, and the only annoyance from them was their persistent begging for whiskey. They would stand an hour at the door, begging for "one little dram." One day a party stopi)cd at our house, and passed the bottle among themselves, the bottle being carried by a white man, who belonged to the party. One young man, I i-emember, more gentle and amiable than the rest, said, when the bottle was offered to him, "No, whiskey wrestle we down once, - never will again." Poor Jim! the only Indian with whom, when a child, I dared to be familiar, - whiskey wrestled him down once more, and his cabin burned down upon him.

From February, 1817, until October, 1818, the town was a part of Black River. At the latter date, on petition of the inhabitants to the commissioners of Huron county, number six, the nineteenth range,

Leonard Bradley

Leonard Bradley was born in the town of Ellington, Tolland Co., Conn., Nov. 4, 1792. He immigrated to Brownhelm, Ohio, in the year 1817, located lands, and remained two years, after which he returned to Connecticut and mai'ried Eoxanna, daughter of William Thrall, of Tolland County, and immediately returned to Ohio, where he was identified as a pioneer farmer. By this union were born four children, viz. : Captain Alva Bradley, now a resident of Cleveland, and a large vessel owner ; William Bradley, a resident of Brownhelm ; Betsey (deceased) ; and Julia. Mrs. Leonard Bradley died Feb. 25, 1858.

Mr. Bradley married for his second wife Emily, widow of William Nye, of Onondaga Co., N. Y., and daughter of John Thompson, who was of Scotch birth and ancestry. Our subject was an ardent advocate of Republicanism during his latter days, being formerly a member of the old Whig party ; served his township as trustee and other oflSces from time to time. When a young man he carried a lady (who wished to visit friends, not having seen any white ladies in several months) over the Vermillion River on an ox, he riding one and the lady the other ox, the oxen having to swim on account of the depth of the stream.

Mr. Bradley remained on the old homestead until the date of his death, which occurred May 3, 1875. His wife survives him, still remaining on the old homestead, surrounded by many friends and tenderly cared for in her declining years by her children.

togeUior widi the siir])lns lands adjoining west, and all lands lying west of Beaver fi'ock in numljcr seven, in the eighteenth range, - Ulaek iliver, - was oi'gani/,ed into a separate township, liy the name of Hrownlieliii, a name selected l)y Colonel lirown, as jn'cviously fully ex})lained.

The first election for township officers was held at the house of George Bacon, in tlio spring of 1819. The vote was hy ballot which resulted as follows: Anson Cooper, clerk; William Alverson, treasurer; Levi Shepard, Calvin Leonard, and Alvah Curtiss, trustees; Levi Shepard and Benjamin Bacon, justices of the peace.

That i)art of the present town of Black Kiver lying west of Beaver creek was, iu June, 1820, by order of the commissioners, detached from Brownhelm, and re-annexed to Black River. The townshij) officers elected in 1878 are as follows: Henry B. Lindsley, clerk; J. M. Joslin, .John H. Heyuian, Gnstavus Schroeder, trustees; Wm. H. Cooley, treasurer; Edwin Bacon and William Sales, justices of the peace.

The first justices of the peace in the township were Levi Shepard and Benjamin Bacon. The cases referred to their adjudication were few and simple. Sometimes it was found more convenient and economical to let an unusual rogue escape from the couutiy, than to take him to the jail at Norwalk. It is related that a case of horse stealing once came before 'Sipiire Wells, of Vermillion. The culprit was a wandering preacher, but the evidence was strong against him. 'Squire Wells invited "Squire Bacon to sit with him on the trial, to add weight to the court. The constables took the liberty of advising the ])risoner to seek safety by flight, if during the progress of the trial a fair opportunity should appear. He seized the opportunity with great alacrity, and was followed with a shout, but not overtaken. The next day, 'Squire Bacon started for Cleveland, and sjjcnt the night at Dover. A preacher had come into town, and the people were gathering to hear him. Mr. Bacon went with the rest, and was surprised to see at the desk his horse-stealing acquaintance of the day before. He gave as his text " Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world." . After the sermon, opportunity was given to any who wished to ofEera word of exhortation. Mr. Bacon improved the opportunity by relating the occurrence of the previous day. The poor preacher started suddenly on his travels again, and at last ; C--ounts had not stopped.

The first physician in town was Dr. AV^eed, who died in the earliest j'ears. Then Dr. Betts, as having some knowledge of medicine, visited tlie sick when no other physician could be had. Next, Dr. Forbes took up his residence here for a short time, occupying the place now belonging to Samuel Bacon's family. When we had no resident physician, Dr. Baker, of Florence, now of Norwalk, was chiefly relied on, and sometimes Dr. Wolcott, of Elyria. Dr. Samuel

In general, the early faniilicvs brought their medicine bags into the new country, and administered to afflicted children glauber salts, calomel and jalap, rhubarb and senna, with entire confidence, not to speak of wormwood, thoroughwort, and other more odious herbs and compounds. Thus the children were taken through chicken-pox, measles, and whooping cough, in comparative safety. The ague was sometimes "broken" with Peruvian bark, but the more popular treatment was to wear it out.

The disease most dreaded in the new country was the milk sickness, or, as it was generally called, the sick stomach, commonly supjK)sed to originate in some poisonous herb eaten by the cattle, and to be communicated by the use of the milk. The disease was exceedingly distressing and malignant, and as I rememl.)er now, of toner fatal than otherwise. No part of the town was entin'ly exempt, but the disease was develojied especially in certain localities. The Barnnm place, near the old meeting house, was remarkably afflicted with it; and three stones, side by side in the ])urying ground, mark the graves of three Mrs. Barnnms, all of whom, if I recollect right, died of the disease. One autumn, four members of their families died within a week. The place was at length deserted, and the precise locality has never since been occupied by a family. Those sickly seasons were sad pia'iods in the early history of the place. Tiie little community was sometimes gathered to a double funeral, as once at Judge Brown's, when Sidney Brown and Oliver Cooley died, and afterwards at Mr. Barnuni's. The latest calamity of the kind was in 1838, when the entire Campbell family, of five persons, died in the space of a month. But in spite of this scourge, the early settlers probably sutfered less from sickness than is common in a new country, and the boon of health was gratefully included in the enuinei'ation of blessings on thanksgiving day. The first liurial in town was that of a daughter of Alva Curtis, Calista, who died at Mr. Onstine's, in Black River, before the family reached the Brownhelm line. She was buried first on Solomon Whittlesey's place, afterwards in the burying ground near Mr. Bacon's. The small brown stone that marks the grave was the only one in the ground for many years. The weeping willow has long since disappeared.

The first birth was in the Ilolcoml) family, on the south ridge - a sou, Henry Brown Ilolcomb. Next, Lucy Cooper, and a month later, Enos Peek. George Cooper was born in Euclid fifty years ago to-day, and may very projierly be considered the oldest Brownhelm boy.

The first wedding was probably that of Joseph Swift and Eliza Root, who were married on the South ridge, August 22, 1818. Soon after my father's arrival, in 1818, one of the Onstiue young men came to borrow five dollars, and satinet enough for a pair of pants, giving as a reason tliat lie was going to have a little frolic over in Vermillion. His fi'olic was his wedding. Among the earliest marriages was that of Ezekiel Goodrich and Charlotte Brown, on the lake shore. .Some of the young men had arrangements east that tiiey returned to consummate after they had "stuck their stakes." These were the earliest visits to the east. At a later day, the married ])eoiile singly. not in pairs, went back to visit their old home, going by steamer to Buffalo, and by canal to Albany, astonished to traverse in ten d/iys the road that it had taken seven weeks to pass over in coming into the wilderness. This going back to Stockbridge was a great event - the hope of the older, and the dream of the children. The young man, putting on his freedom suit, must go to Stockbridge to give it an airing! and to attain the consequence essential to sustain his manhood. When he returned, his young companions gathered around him as a distinguished traveler, to hear all he could tell of the W(nulerful land. In this respect, the experience of children bronght up in the simplicity of the new country can scarcely be rejieated at the present day. The advantages of cultivated society, talked of by parents, but never seen by the children, made a i)o\verful impression. The steepled church, back in the eastern home, wrought upon the imagination of the child, as it could not if an object of daily sight. The thought of the college, to one who had only seen the log school house, was material for castle Ijnilding by day, and for di'eams liy night. From mountain summit, and towering monument, and capital dome, in later years, my eyes have rested on many a goodly scene of nature and of art, but the thrill of surprise and satisfaction which I experienced upon my first view of the village of Elyria, from my father's wagon, has never been equaled. The village at that time consisted of perhaps twenty buildings, gathered about the Ely and Beebe mansions, at the east end of Main street. No such snrprise awaits the children of the present day.

One of the features of early life here was familiarity with the wild animals that had possession of the country. The howl of the wolf at night, was as familiar as the wliip-poor-will's song - not the small prairie wolf so well known at the west, but the powerful wolf of the forest, the black and the gray. They passed in droves by onr dwellings at night, sometimes when the new comers had only a blanket sns|ieiided in the ojiening for the door ; sometimes they crowded upon the footsteps of a belated settler, passing from one part of the settlement to another. The boy crossing the pasture on a winter morning Would often sec the lilind track of a wolf that had loped across the night before. If he had forgotten to bring in his sheej) at evening, he might find them scattered and torn in the morning. A dog that ventured from the house at night, scmietimes came in with wounds more honorable than comfortable. The wolf was a shy animal, seldom showing itself by daylight. Probably not one in a dozen of the early I inhabitants ever saw a wolf in the forest; yet these animals roamed the woods around us for years. Mr. Solomon Whittlesey once snatched his calf from the jaws of a wolf, at night, with many pairs of hungry eyes gleaming upon him through the darkness.

In 1S37, the county commissioners offered a bounty for wolf scalps - three dollars for a full-grown wolf, and half the sum for a whelp of three months. Whether any drafts were ever made upon the treasniy does not appear. As late as 1832, my brother and myself, returning on foot to the high school at Elyria, after a visit home, were stopjied on the way at evening by the howling of wolves in the road before us, and constrained to wait until morning. Now and then a wolf was taken in a trap or shot by a hunter. Probably less than a half-dozen were ever killed in the township. About the winter of 1827-'28, wolf hunts were organized in the region on a grand scale, conducted by surrounding a tract of country several miles in extent, with a line of men within sight of each other at the start, and approaching each other as they moved toward the center. The first of these hunts centered in Henrietta, and resulted in bagging large quantities of game, but never a wolf. A single wolf made his ajipea ranee at the center, and was sna]iped at and shot at by many a rifle, but my recollection is that he got off with a whole skin. The sport involved danger from the cross-shooting as the line drew near the center, and Park Harris, of Amherst, mounted on a horse, received a shot in the ankle. To avoid this danger, the next hunt centered on the river hollow, about the mill in Brownhelni, but the scale on whicli it was arranged was too grand to be carried out. The lines were too extended and liroke in many places, resulting in gathering upon the flat a small herd of deer and a solitary fox, barely furnishing an occasion for the hundreds of huntsmen above to discharge their pieces, as the friglitened animals escaped into the woods ujj the river. It was an utterly fruitless chase. A more exciting chase was the slave-hunt of a later day, in which the people bewildered and foiled the kidnappers.

Bears were less numerous than v.olves, but they were perhaps more often seen. One was shot by Solomon Whittlesey, from the ridge, a little east of the burying ground. One of the trials of my childish courage, was to pass the tree against which tradition said that he rested his rifle in the shot. Another dangerous tree was the large basswood that leaned over the brook, a little to the south-east of Harvey Perry's orchard. My mother going over the ridge to bring a pail of water from the siiring. once drove a large black animal before her, which she thought a dog, until he scrambled up that tree, when she retui-ned home without the water. The tree stood close by tlic track that led to Mr. Peck's, and it was a test of pluck for a child to jiass that tree, as I was often obliged to, just as the evening began to darken. One day, one of the half dozen sheep that I was expected to drive into pen at night, was missing. They were jiiistured in the tiekl where the oichurd now is. lu looking for the lost animal, I found a place where it seemed to have been dragged over tlie fence, and following the trail a few rods, I came upon a spot, not many feet from where we are now gathered, where a hear had made his feast, leaving the wool scattered about, and a few large hones. The tracks were still fresh in the mud. Such occurrences gave a smack of adventure to child life in the new country, and it was a matter of every day consultation among the hoys, what were tlie habits of tiie various animals supposed to be dangerous, such as the wolf, the bear, the wildcat, and the panther, and by what tactics it was safest to meet them. Similar discussions were had in reference to the Indians, who had i'ei|uiied a bad reputation during tlie war, then recent, with England. The prevailing opinion was, that any fear exhibited towards an Indian, or a wild beast, put one at a great disadvantage.

Deer were far moi"e plenty than cattle, and the sight of them was an everyday occurrence. A good marksman would sometimes shoot one from his door. The same was true of wild turkeys. Raccoons worked mischief in the unripe corn, and a favorite sport of the boys was "coon hunting" at night, the time when the creature visited the corn. A dog traversed the cornfield to start the game, and the boys ran at the first bark of the dog, to be in at the death. When the animal took to a tree, it was cut down, or a fire was built and a guard set to keep him until morning, when he was brought down by a shot. The motive for the hunt was three-fold, - the sport, the protection of the corn, and tlio value of the skin, the raccoon being a furred animal. The greatest speculation in this line of which the town can boast, was made by Job Smith, whom many will remember, and who is mentioned in the county records, in the description of a road, as " a man of some note." He is said to have bought a quantity of goods of a New York dealei', promising to pay "five hundred coon skins taken as they run," naturally meaning an average lot. The dealer, after waiting a reasonable time for his fur, came oti to investigate, and inquired of his debtor when the skins would be delivered. "Why," said Mr. Smith, "you were to take them as they run; the woods are full of them; take them when you please." The moral of the story would not be complete without stating that the same Job Smith was afterwards arrested as a manufacturer of counterfeit coin.

Thrifty men pursued the b.isiness of hunting as a pastime. The only man in town, perhaps, to wliom it afforded profitable business, in any sense, was Solomon Whittlesey. Other professional hunters were shiftless meu, to whom hunting was a mere passion, having something of the attractions of gambling. Mr. Whittlesey did not neglect his farm, but he knew every haunt and path of the deer and the turkey, and often on their track by day and by night. He is with US to-day, and reports the killing of one bear, two wolves, twenty wild cats, about one hundred and fifty deer, and smaller game too numerous to si)ecify. One branch of his business was bee hunting, a pursuit which rerjuired a keen eye, good judgnuiut and practice. The method of the hunt was to raise an odor in the forest, by placing honey comb on a hot stone, and in the vicinity another piece of comb charged with honey. The bees wei'C attracted liy the smell, and having gorged themselves with the iioney, they took ii bct'-li lie for their tree. Tliis line the hunter observed and marked iiy two or more trees in range. He then took another station, not on this line, and went through the same operation. Those two lines, if fortunately selected, would converge u])on the bee tree, and could be followed out by a pocket compass. The tree, when found, was marked by tiie hunter with his initials, and could be cut down at tlu! proper time.

Another form of the sjiort of hunting was even more classic, the hunting of the wild boar. For many years there was an unliroken forest, two miles in breidt.h, running through the township, between the North ridge and the lake shore farms. This forest became the haunt of fugitive hogs, that fed on the abundant mast, or, in Yankee phrase, "shack," whieh the forest yielded. These animals were bred in the forest, and in the third generation liecame as fierce as the wild boar of the Euro])ean forest. The animal in this condition was about as worthless, for domestic purposes, as a wolf, as gaunt and as savage. Still it was customary, in the fall and early winter, to organize hunts for reclaiming some valuable animal that had become thus degenerate. The hunt was exciting and dangerous. The genuine wild boar, exasperated by dogs, was the most terrible creature in our forest. His onset was too sudden and headlong to be avoided or turned aside, and the snaj) of his tusks, as he sharpened them in his fury, was somewhat terrible. Two at least of our young men, Walter C'rocker and Truman Tryon, were thrown down and badly rent in such encounters, and others had narrow escapes.

The principal fishing ground of the early years was the "flood wood" of the Vermillion. The lake fishing is a nuidern discovery. It was not known that the lake contained fish that wei'e accessible. Other sports and recreations were few and simple, most of them presenting the utilitarian element. There were logging bees to hel]) a, man who had been sick or unfortunate, raisings to put up a log cabin or barn, and militia trainings, which were entered into earnestly by men who had smelt ]>owder in the recent war. Then there was an occasional patriot among us of the Revolution days who tired the youthful heart by tales of the times that tried men's souls. Chief among these was George Bacon, Sr. , rejjorted to have been one of the Boston tea party, who brought honorable wounds from the battle field and drew his pension from the government. Then there was Stephen James, with a b;ir sinister in his escutcheon, because he chanced to be of tory stock, still a true patriot, and a bi'ave and stately man. It is not strange that

The Fourth of .July was observed with such humble appointments as were at hand. An old musket that liad been throusih the wars was the loudest piece that eonlil be found, and this was brought into rerpiisition. One Independence day, .John Curtis, an ambitious youth, l)rought out a cannon, whi(;h lie had manufactured by boring a cylinder of oak and strapj)ing it with iron bauds from a wagon hub. Tiie piece was well ehai'ged and placed on the bank of the river, near his father's, in the midst of a crowd of boys, and fired witii a slow match. The report was satisfactory, but the splinters flew in all directions and the iron bauds were a total loss - tliey were never found. What was more important, no one was iiurt. As the community gained new ideas and advanced in civilization, these Fourtli of .July celebrations took on a jihilan- Ihrojiic charMcter, and re]ireseuted the interests of the iSabbatli school and the temperance cause. For such a gathering, held thirty-five years ago to-day, the work on the first fraiue church was hastened forward to furnish a place for the meeting. One feature of tlie exercises brought out the Sabbath sciiool. Each scholar and each teacher was provided with a passage of scripture, selected for tlie occasion, to be recited in order. It was in the days of President Jackson, who was es|)ecially olmoxious to true New Englanders. When Alva Curtis was called on, he startled us with the petition, ''Let his days be few, and let another take his olfiee." Probably the whole congregation could say amen, for, as I remember, only three Jackson votes were cast in the township.

If any one should infer tliat early life here was more unsatisfactory or less desirable than life at the present time, it would be a misapproliensiou. There were difficulties to be encountered, but they had their compensations. Tiiere was poverty to endure, but it was ecpially disti'ilnited, and was cheered with the iiopo of a good time coming, a poverty that stimulated to activity, and brougiit no degradation. There was want of many advantages which tend to the elevation and refinement of character; but such advantages had been enjoyed by tlie early settlers in tlieir New England h(.inies, and tlie results would not be wholly lost before they gathered about themselves those desirable tilings. T'hei'e was iiard work to do, but it was well done; and such woi'k with encouragement to do it, is the best opportunity. Few of those who bore the burden and he;it of the day, ever regretted their calling; and most of them have lived to reap a good harvest. Yew cf tlie original families have reached this anniversary (July 4r, 1867,) without sad breaches in their circle. This is incidental to our mortal life.

Anotiior fifty years and not one will remain of all that gathered among these forests. Some of the families, prominent in the early times, have now no living representative in the population of the place. Among these are the families of Judge Brown, Alva Curtis, William Aherson and the Peases. Most of the others have still a pt>sterity and a name among us. The town has sent out many worthy children to help build up other communities, some to repeat, in a degree, the achievments of their parents, as pioneers at the west. The life encouraged here has been of a quiet, unambitious ty]ic, and tiio results in general corres- ])on(l. We liave no pulilic men to speak of; no politician seems to have sjiruug up amongus; few to look for public position or office. But these are not the characters the world most needs. We can gather a few ministers of tlie gospel, a few teachers, and many worthy and useful people, and this is well.

There is a little shadow upon our prosjiect as we look forward to fifty years to come. It is pleasant to believe that the places that are sacred to us with all pleasant memories, will be held by our children to an indefinite future. That another people shall come in to whom these farms, and streets, and dwellings are sini]>ly so much territmy to be appropriated, the life that has passed here ail unknown to them, is not an inviting prospect. Yet such is the jirospect that ojiens to us to-day. Stranger eyes have looked upon tiiese pleasant farms and will claim them for themselves, in all honesty and honor, with such a claim as an American citizen can never dispute, paying a fair pi'ice, and occupying them with a thrifty and successful culture. It is thirty years or more since the first German family obtained a footing here. Now the splendid (dd farms along the lake and all the northern part of the town, are in their jiossession. A similar change is taking place in the south, and the movement is towards the center. An entire change in the population of the town seems probable, and almost inevitable; a result whieli we object to, not in our reason, but in our feeling. Humanity loses nothing, norcven the country ;it large; but the sentiment of local interest which gathers us to-day, is less satisfied with the outlook. Fifty years hence, the faces, and the voices, and the names of strangers will be seen and heard at holiday gatherings and along these streets. The familiar names that seem to us identified with tlie very face of nature, will be heard here no more forever.

God grant that these names be written in His "book of ren.embrance," securing a title to "Mn inheritauco inciu'ruptible and undeflled, and that fadeth not away, eternal in the heavens."

[The greater part of this history being that of President FairchiM. delivered in an address July 4, 1867. the reader will understand th*' meaning of certain phrases and sentences, if this fact is borne in triind.J was boni ill the City of Hartford, Connecticnt, September 18, 1797, and is tlie second son of Ashbel Wells and Mary Hopkins, the former a son of Ashbel Wells, the latter a daughter of Thomas Hopkins, a prominent sea captain of his day; all of English ancestry. Thefatiicrof Deacon George Wells was a clerk in the commissary department of General Washington's army, during the Revolutionary war, and subsequently a well known and extensive mercliant at liartford. He died September 4, 1819, aged sixty-one years. He was very generally respected, and his death looked upon as a public calamity, in the community in which he had been long engaged in business.

When seventeen years of age, George Wells left his native city, and came as far west as Albany, New York, obtaining employment there, at Little Falls, and at Utica, and finally located at Canandaigua, working at his trade, which was that of a shoemaker. He remained there about one and a half years, and subsequently, on Jun 18, 1818, arrived at Brownhelm, Ohio, coming by way of the hike from Buffalo. He took up s(nne fifty acres of land, on the lake shore, which he afterward increased to one hundred acres. His time was occupied partly at farming, and partly at his trade. He built a log cabin, in which he lived nineteen years.

In 1837, he sold out, intending to move farther west, but finally purchased the place upon which he now resides, containing one hundred and twenty-five acres. He cleared and improved both farms.

Mr. Wells was married to Maria, daughter of Jouatiian Butler, of Hartford, March 22, 1825. They had seven children, - four sons and three daughters. All the sons have departed this life. The youngest was killed at the battle of South Mountain, during the war of the rebellion. They all attained to manhood. On the 28th of June, 1866, Mrs. Wells died, aged sixty-three years. The daughters all survive. Elizabeth G. married Joseph Sisson, of Hartford, who lost his life by a mowing machine accident; Mary M. married Benjamin F. Nye, who was killed at the battle 'of the Wilderness; Abigail S. married Frederick II. Bacon, and resides a short distance from her father's old home. Mr. Wells married again, December 33, 1866, Mrs. Catherine M. Gardner. She has one daughter, Marie Antoinette, wife of Lyman Yerkes, of Detroit, Michigan.

has been remarkably good. He was always an active man, and last October, (1878,) he rode twice to Elyria and back, a distance of thirty miles. He is one of the very oldest pioneers of this township, as well as one of its most woi-thy citizens. (See illustration on another page).