Troy Township

Preface

If there is anything of a local character, aside from one's own affairs, which should be of inteVest to the citizen of a township, it would seem to be, more than all else, a knowledge, more or less perfect, of the history of the township in which the fortunes of that citizen are cast ; that each may know a little of what the pioneers passed through, while performing the rugged, arduous duties, incidental to the advance guard of civilization, in a country such as was the Western Reserve, a century ago. Poor indeed, at the best, will be our conception of the hardships and privations with which they were obliged to contend, while opening up what is now one of the most desirable regions in the whole "Buckeye" State. It is not easy for our imagination to paint, with any degree of accuracy, as w£ drive our dozen, more or less, of fat, sleek, contented cows, from well-fenced, luxurious pastures, to comfortable stables, twice each day, to relieve their overburdened udders; I say it is not an easy thing to imagine the difference between this comparatively pleasant pastime, and the way which was practiced by the hardy frontiersman, with his single "bossy," if indeed he were the fortunate owner of one. Then, a fenced grazing field was not known, and after "old brin" had paid her usual assessment of two quarts, or thereabouts, in the morning, she was turned loose to seek her food as best she might, in the surrounding forest, while our sturdy woodsman, with axe well sharpened, proceeded to his daily toil of levelling the giant oaks, or the more graceful beech, or maple, whistling the while in bright anticipation of a well-cleared farm, in days yet to come, and thus he works, and thus he whistles, until the setting sun warns him of other* duties. Shouldering his trusty axe, he glances over the result of his day's exertion, with a feeling of proud satisfaction, then betakes himself to his "cabin," where the good wife has a lunch in readiness for him, which he eagerly seized - for it is growing late - and starts on his uncertain pilgrimage after the cherished cow. She may be found within a mile of home, and, perchance, he may travel many a weary one, before he hears the welcome sound of his own cowbell. Sometimes his aching limbs mutely urge him to abandon the search, but visions of the little ones, peering through the chinks of his cabin palace, wondering why "pa don't come home, with "Old Brin;" they are so hungry," urge him on, and on, till at last, in the distance, his accustomed ear catches the wellknown sound, when his weary plodding is changed in a twinkling to a sprightly step, and his treasure is soon discovered, luxuriating, perchance, on a new-found bed of leeks; but at his bidding, starts through the dense forest, to her wellknown quarters, with an unerring certainty. Here she is greeted by the mother with a choice tid-bit of something saved up for her especial use, she meanwhile relieving her of what little milk she may have secreted during the day. This done, she is made fast to a neighboring tree, and the children regaled with a porringer of johnny-cake and milk. If any is left, mother takes a little, if not, just as well, she makes a supper of johnny-cake alone. Everything being arranged for the night, all seek their humble cots, and sleep as only rough, hardy sons and daughters of toil can sleep, and awake in the morning ready to go

As winter approaches, the little garden, made on a plat of ground hastily cleared, and rudely fenced, the spring previous, is carefully gathered, every vestige being turned to some use. The calf, "Old Brin's" production of the March previous, over the disposal of which a great many earnest discussions have been held, is finally doomed to the knife, to satisfy the demands of hunger, and a solemn pledge is made that the next one shall be raised.

Winter sets in. A rude hovel is erected, wherein their only dependence for milk may be sheltered from the storm, her food the while, being the browse, from a tree or two, each day felled for her special use, re-enforced by a few "nubbins" carefully laid away in the cabin loft for that purpose.

All this while "pater familias" is by no means idle. If not engaged with his trusty rifle, in securing sustenance for his priceless brood at the cabin; or at work, for a more forehanded "neighbor" in an adjoining township, in payment for a "chunk of pork" or a half bushel of wheat; the reverberating blows of that same carefully preserved axe, are heard from early dawn, till darkness hinders, in preparing another fallow for wheat, the next season ; clearly showing what a strong, impelling power, is faith.

Distance from neighbors being too great for social intercourse, the evenings are, nearly all, spent around his own rude fireside ; his employment - replacing a shattered axe-helve; or in some way improving the internal arrangements of his humble cabin, or making a hand-sled, for better convenience in transporting fire-wood, or making sap-spouts, in anticipation of the coming sugar season. Coal oil had not then been discovered, and tallow was to be found only in an occasional deer, so that the only light to be depended upon, was that of the blazing "fire-place," but anticipation of a "better coming" made all this endurable.

The post-office was an institution to be found only semi-occasional ly, and the newspaper was as seldom to be found as the post-office; making general intelligence entirely out of the question ; a stray letter from the far east at long intervals, comprising the only mail matter received, and answers, the only matter sent ; still our sturdy pioneer toiled on, hope ever in the ascendant.

In due course of time winter merges into most welcome spring, finding our friend in readiness for its duties. His self-imposed five acre "stent" is completed. The trunks of the trees nicely chopped into the requisite logging length, and the brush neatly and snugly pilgd, to await the consuming torch of the following June; the garden is enlarged and improved, and at the proper time planted. Later the torch is applied to the last summer's chopping, which soon reduces the more combustible portion to ashes. Then the process of mauling rails comes in order, for his field must needs be fenced against occasional marauders, and, having no team, the rails must be taken to their places by the transportation, better known in those days as "soul carting." This done, the field is- duly dedicated and set apart as the first cornfield and potato patch, the remembrance of which will be carried to the end of life. The seed must be planted between the logs, and among the roots, for no team can yet be procured, with which to do the logging ; and an old axe supplies the place of the hoe, in the operation.

In the meantime, "Old Brin," faithful to her duty, has donated the expected offspring, and as good luck would have it, this time it wasn't a heifer. Our overjoyed friend betakes himself to his nearest neighbor, who had settled on an adjoining section, and happily finds him similarly situated. A compact is at once entered into, to the effect that those calves be reused , to serve as a future partnership team. Faith and hope , in this case, strongly predominant

The season wanes, and the chopping of this summer covers a smaller area than did that of last, for the crops must be tended, which simply means loosening the soil around the plants, and knocking down the fire-weeds, which seem disposed to maintain the ascendancy ; and then, there is the wheat field to be disposed of. The brush burnt, the next thing is more rails, and more fence, made in the same laborious manner, as was that of the previous spring. This done, such brands and chunks as can be moved by hand, assisted by the handspike, are piled and burned, the larger logs, of course, being left to await the current of events. The half-bushels of wheat, which have been collected as opportunity offered, and carefully laid away, are now brought forward, the grain carefully scattered on the most promising spots, and rudely covered by the best means at hand. When this is accomplished - for, mind you, it is not the work of a day - the cornfield demands attention, and soon the sight of shocks, scattered irregularly over the rude field, swell the bosom of our husbandman with honest pride. They are the first fruits of his toil in field-farming. Next the potatoes are dug, taken to a chosen spot near the domicile, deposited in a snug heap, covered well with forest leaves, and afterwards with earth. This constitutes the cellar. The roots and vegetables from the garden are treated in a similar manner. When wanted, a hole just large enough to allow the arm to be introduced, is forced through the covering, on the "warm side" of the heap, and when the needed articles are withdrawn, the rude hatchway is carefully closed to exclude the frost.

Winter again sets in, finding our pioneer, and those under his care, far better prepared to withstand its rigor, than they were one year ago. Instead of a diet composed of browse and nubbins, "Old Brin" now regales on delicious corn-fodder, small potatoes, cabbage leaves, and such other odds and ends as are thoughtfully saved up for her special use.

The "steer calf" is by no means neglected, but comes in for a full share of the good things, that will cause him to grow, for mind you, "great expectations," are wrapped up in his little hide. In the cabin, more improvements are seen. In one corner, on two pins driven into a log, rests a nicely made trough, which was filled with the product of the "sugar-bush," the spring previous, and which, thanks to the prudent management of the good housewife, is not yet nearly empty, although many a delicious lump has been meted out to the "bairns," as rewards of merit. A "short-cake" is occasionally introduced into the bill of fare, in lieu of the everlasting johnny-cake. A greater variety of articles of food from the garden, has been provided, and by way of luxury, the "young ones" had found and gathered a generous supply of wdld berries, which were carefully laid away to be used as occasion required.

A few new-comers, who had settled during the past season, in different parts of the embryo township, made visiting no longer an impossibility. For occasions of this kind, the now indispensible "horse and cutter" were then to be seen only with the "eye of faith."

It having been decided upon what neighbor they will call, things are arranged at home as safely as possible, and left in charge of the faithful dog, - an animal considered indispensible in every backwoodsman's household, - and they make for the section line, that will most directly lead them to the desired locality. If there be snow, pater takes the lead, to break a path, the children, if large enough to walk, come next, and the mother brings up the rear; if not large enough, the parents resolutely transfer them (if there be but two) to their willing shoulders, and away they go, happy in the thought that now they have neighbors so near. A hearty, undissembled welcome is their greeting. The new-comer, but a short time from the abode of civilization, has not yet become inured to pioneer life, and a call from one more experienced, is, to him, a source of infinite pleasure. Their conversation, instead of turning upon gossip, or scandal, or politics, finds a theme in their own personal affairs, as, how much land they propose to clear, where the best site for the barn (when it is built), and where the best for the house, etc. The tongues of the women meanwhile are not silent ; the plans and anticipations pertinent to their respective affairs are duly discussed. The visiting neighbor, perhaps, proposing to lend the other flax sufficient to make her man a pair of "tow and linen" shirts, which she can repay when they shall have raised some for themselves. Kindness crops out at every turn, and when the visitors take their leave, it is evident that the " goodbye" is said in no conventional manner, but is heart-felt in every particular. The 44 man of the house," perhaps accompanying his guests a mile or two, to relieve the mother of her burden, for that distance. As a result of this unceremonious, unconventional interchange of thoughts and purposes, our friends return to their humble home, feeling well assured, that, between themselves and their new neighbors, a friendship has been inaugurated that is destined to end, only w:ith life.

A few days of redoubled exertion, and our now "old settlers," repeat the above mentioned pleasant occasion by making a similar journey in another direction, and for a similar object While in the capacity of guests at the cabin of this late arrival, they perhaps learn, to their great satisfaction, that still others are on the way from the east, with an ox team and sled, having in view their own township, if indeed it has yet assumed the dignity of that title as a place of settlement. The expected arrival is discussed by our new acquaintances with infinite gusto, as visions of a respectable settlement in the near future loom up before their hopeful imagination, and light-hearted and light-footed, do our guests bid their host and hostess good day, and take their way homeward, talking, methinks, of the time when, years hence, those same woods through which they are traversing, will possibly be cultivated fields, and when schools will be a luxury no longer withheld, for be it known, the welfare of their little ones is, or should be, ever uppermost in their parent mind.

Time passes. We will imagine it is now near the close of the month of March, and on one of those squally, disagreeable days, for which March is famous, when a man might be seen (if, indeed, there was any one to see him), in the dense forest, axe in one hand, and ox-whip in the other, making a slow, toilsome progress. The blinding snow storm compels him to consult his compass one moment, that he may not lose the direction that was given him at the last house, miles in his rear; then an obstruction in his path calls for the good offices of his axe, then a beckoning with the whip, then a few words of direction and encouragement to old "Buck and Broad," then an anxious inquiry as to the welfare of his passengers, when the unerring compass must needs again be referred to, the axe again called into requisition, then the whip, till, finally, to the great joy of the weary travelers, the long sought for "clearing" of our sturdy yeoman is reached, a lull in the snow storm discloses the unpretending residence, and soon the way-worn travelers are at the door. Perhaps the new-comer was an acquaintance from the "Nutmeg State," perhaps not. That makes no difference. He, and his, are just as welcome as though their parents were identical. They are all ushered with rustic heartiness into the domicile, while the "man of the house" disengages the patient, faithful, leg-weary cattle from the sled - which, perhaps, was constructed by its owner under some wood-shed away back in New England, and for this special journey - and soon they are ensconsed in "Old Brin's" hovel, doing ample justice to a lusty bundle of fodder. -Meanwhile the "good wife" is by no means idle. A rousing fire is soon crackling on the hearth, and the johnny-cake board is brought into requisition, that being the only oven the house affords. After a few words of inquiry concern- ing matters "back east," our "host" excuses himself and is soon taking a "bee line" in the direction of the neighbor who owns the other "steer calf." He has three objects in view : first, self interest ; second, the interest of the neighbor whom he is on his way to see, and third, the mutual interest of the three. The pet project is, to induce his guest to "make a pitch " in their immediate vicinity, but the knotty problem is, how to subsist those oxen . It is finally settled that they can "winter out" their own stock on browse and a little corn, so that, between them, they can furnish food for the greatly needed team. This arranged, number two agrees to come over in the morning and "see about it," and number one hastens homeward, well pleased with the result of the interview.

Reaching home, he finds it to be bed-time, and the women planning how they are to sleep. The bed brought by the new-comer is made up on the floor, which is occupied by the men, the women taken to the other, while the "small fry" are tucked away here and there for chinking.

Next morning, true to promise, the proprietor of the other calf is promptly on hand, is introduced in backwoods style to the stranger, and the three at once enter into a discussion of the momentous question, which was the theme of the two "citizens" the day before. The attention of the stranger is called to a choice tract, which is happily located, and the trio set out on a tour of inspection. A survey is taken, as well as the snow-covered condition of the ground will allow, and trusting somewhat to the experience and integrity of his advisers, our new-fledged pioneer makes this site his choice, and all return to their respective places of abode, well pleased with the day's transaction.

Next morning betimes, the partially rested oxen are called on to transport the women folks to the prospective new home, that they may help to make a selection of a building spot. This in due time is done, and during the trip air castles enough are built to satisfy the most imaginative. Preliminaries arranged, the next thing is work, and here the new neighbor has a decided advantage over, his predecessors. He can build a comfortable house at the outset, supplied, as he is, with a team, to bring together logs for that purpose.

And now the co-operative system, so common in new countries, begins to be developed. All the settlers who are within practicable distance are ready and willing to "turn in" and help our friend cut his logs and put up his house, in consideration of the same favor on his part, aided by his team, and in this way his advent marked a great improvement in all the region round about.

By the time spring had fairly opened, each and every "claim" was ornamented with the body of a house, of much more respectable appearance and far greater accommodations than the hand-built cabin, so that, during the following season, all the spare moments could be devoted to its completion, so as to be in readiness for the coming winter. The owner of the "ox team" is now all alive with his own affairs. The echo of his well directed blows, and the crash of falling timber, can be heard early and late, as he is preparing a small plat for a garden, and perhaps a little potato patch. The journey (as he is yet the guest of our friend) to and from his work becomes irksome to him, and so the neighbors, in consideration of a little "team work" in return, club together, on a pre-concerted day, and set about "doing off" his house. This is all the more agreeable to him as he has had no experience in that intricate science known as " Log house carpentering." The details of this "trade" are mainly confined to chopping or sawing out a place for a door, and perhaps for a window; splitting puncheons for the floor, riving shake shingles, laying the roof, and improvising a something called the fire-place. Partitions are not to be thought of, for the article called lumber is yet standing unmanufactured in the tree, awaiting the advent of the yet far off saw-mill.

home is a light affair, and when accomplished, and possession actually taken, Ferdinand and Isabella could not have felt a greater degree of pride, when it was announced to the world that under their supervision Columbus had discovered the "New World," than did our recent wayfarers from the "land of steady habits." A consultation with his more experienced friends developed the fact that the cherished oxen are a luxury, which cannot be. consistently indulged in, and with many misgivings, their ownership is transferred to a settler miles away, who has been in the country long enough to get a start. The remuneration is perhaps applied in part to making payment for his well wooded acres, and in part for articles of imperative necessity either in doors or out. Leaving this emigrant to work his way up to competence, or the reverse, as his lot may be, attention is again called to our friend of the cabin, the steer calf, and "old Brin."

Notwithstanding his time and attention bave been devoted somewhat to the benefit of others, spring found him with his five acres ready for the brand, and as he has neither team nor plow with which to cultivate his last year's cornfield, and, in fact, could not get it plowed if he had, he runs a fence between that and the wheat field, thereby making it serve for a pasture, a portion of the season. The garden is put into shape to receive seed, by a process known as " spading," the fire-shovel, perhaps, being the implement used for that purpose. A few days devoted to putting a roof on his own house, and doing other things ot an equally imperative character, when a warm, pleasant May day witnesses a conflagration in the new chopped fallow. Then the work of partial clearing, fencing and planting is repeated. The heifer calf, shut away from the mother, and learned to drink, as was the other, one year ago, is looked upon as the coming cow, while a well fed pig, grunting in the pen, gives evidence that the woods are soon not to be wholly relied on to furnish meat for household consumption.

The summer passes as did the previous one, making further inroads into the forest, and cultivating, as best he may, the growing crops, with one important addition to his labor - that of reaping his first field of golden wheat. When this is securely harvested, he and she congratulate themselves that their days of johnny-cake, for a steady diet, are now over, its place to be supplanted by the delicious short-cake. The only trouble is the incomplete, backwoods manner of grinding - the mortar and pestle being, many times, the only grist-mill available.

Summer merges into autumn, the crops secured, and this time stored, all except the corn and wheat, in a place hollowed out under the house-floor, the house itself finished, and exultingly occupied. An addition is made to the hovel for the better accommodation of the juvenile cattle, and things fixed up shipshape, generally. Winter returns; and others, away down east, hearing of this second "garden of Eden," take advantage of the snow as a medium for transportation, and before spring again returns, several more of the hardy sons of toil have been added to our sparcely settled neighborhood, some singly, and some accompanied by families, but all find a hearty welcome under the hospitable roofs of those who had come before.

Matters and things now begin to look decidedly encouraging. Roads are located in the more thickly settled portion of the domain, and, best of all, a school can be organized, which is at once done. A site for a school-house is selected, and then comes the most memorable day for that community thus far - the day of putting up the school-house. Every person is interested in the project, male and female, and reports in person on the appointed day, and the opening of a future railroad could not be entered into with more zest, than was the erection of this rude, backwood's college. If no one of this heroic band is possessor of a team, it does not deter them in the least. The logs are carried together by virtue of human muscle, the noble women bearing a full share of the labor, and the humble edifice goes up with an enthusiasm never before man- ifested in that embryo school-district. With what maternal pride do the good mothers, a few weeks later, put up the first dinner, and start their young jewels off to school, a mile perhaps, or more, through the woods, the only text-book, doubtless, being Webster's speller. But what of that? A noble future may be encompassed within the linsey-woolsey clothing of those same unkempt urchins.

Time passes. Those calves having now assumed the dignity of three-yearold steers, and, in consequence of frequent handling while yet apart, become quite tractable, are brought together and receive a formal introduction by means of a yoke, prepared for the purpose. This is another proud day for the owners, second only to the school-house affair. And why not? Are they not now the happy proprietors of a pair of promising steers? which, if nothing befals, will soon make them the independent owners of a reliable team, and this ownership, bringing them as it does into nearer relationship, will be in no way detrimental to their future mutual well-being. Discord is a thing almost unknown in a sparsely-settled country.

With our hero - who, but a few years ago, was the humble proprietor of old "Brin", his gun, and his axe - the crisis is passed. He is now on an independent footing. He has worn gradually into the surrounding forest, until he has a respectable clearing. Those calves, of years ago, are now oxen - steady and patient. The logs which he was compelled to leave unburnt, are now all cleared away, and the stumps so far rotted that he can plow a respectable furrow. An enterprising emigrant has a saw-mill in operation, on a neighboring stream, which he has not failed to patronize; the result being, a comfortable barn and his log house fixed up so that it will do, till he is able to build a better one in days to come. The "little ones" of the cabin days are now robust lads and lasses, a help and comfort to those who were so zealous for their welfare. A horse is now included in the inventory of stock, so that, when he and the "old lady" feel like taking a winter-evening trip to one of the neighbors, they do not go on foot, or with the slow pace of oxen and sled, but can enjoy the more pretentious horse and "pung."

These preparatory remarks, faintly describing as they do, the hardships which the resolute pioneers of this Western Reserve experienced, and of which the "gentler sex" bore the lion's share, make no account whatever of anything but the common-place difficulties which they encountered. Not a word has been said about the soul-harrowing bereavements and disheartening sickness, which were the almost constant companions of the advance guard of civilization, physicians and nurses being among the impossibilities. Yet, mildly as it has been pictured in the foregoing pages, it undoubtedly seems to many like the imagination of a disordered brain. That all such may come to a different conclusion, "let facts be submitted to a candid world."