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 OK THli:— 
 
 ^lONEERS 
 
 01- T?EE (Bounty 
 
 DIXON, ILLINOIS: 
 
 INEZ A KENNEDY, PUBLISHkR. 
 
 18U3. 
 

 F 5-4-7 
 
 (,' 
 
5- 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 This Little Book 
 
 IS 
 
 Dedicated 
 
 To THE Children of the Pioneers, 
 
 BY the 
 
 Lee County Columbian Club. 
 
'/\ I'ule of t^e 'Airly l|)ays. 
 
 Oh ! toll mo a talo of tho airly days. 
 
 Of tho times as they ust to bo; 
 "Pillar of Fire," and "yhakospearo's Plays," 
 
 1» a 'most too deep for mol 
 I want plain facts, and I want plain words, 
 
 Of good old-fashioned ways. 
 When speech run free as tho songs of birds, 
 
 'Way back in the airly days. 
 
 Tell me a tale of the timber lands, 
 
 And the old-time pioneers— 
 Somopin'a poro man understands 
 
 With his feeUns", well as ears. 
 Tell of tho old log house— about 
 
 The loft, and the puncheon floor— 
 The old lire-place, with tho crane swung ou. 
 
 And the latch striugithrough tho door. 
 
 Tell of the things just like they wuz— 
 They don't need no excuse; 
 
 Don't totch "cm up like tho poets does 
 Till they're all too lino for use! 
 
 Say they wuz 'leven in the family- 
 Two beds and llio chist below, 
 
 And the trundle-beds, 'at each helt three; 
 And the clock and tho.old bureau. 
 
 Then blow the horn at the old back door 
 
 Till tho echoes ail.hallo, 
 And the children gathers home onc'tmore, 
 
 Jest as they ust to do; 
 Blow for Pap till ho hoars and comes. 
 
 With Tomps and Elias, too, 
 A marchin' home, with tho life and drums 
 
 And tho old Red, White and Blue! 
 
 Blow and blow till the sound draps low 
 
 As tho moan of tho whipperwill, 
 And wake up. Mother, and lluth, and Jo, 
 
 All sleepin' at Bethel Hill; 
 Blow and call till the faces all 
 
 Sliino out in the. back-log's blaze. 
 And the shadders dance on tho old hewn wall 
 
 As they did in the airly days. 
 
 — Jas. Whitcomb Kiley. 
 
 — 4 — 
 
BY WAY OF INTRODUCTION. 
 
 When a stranger taps at our door we naturally expect to be told his 
 name and errand, and if he wishes to become an inmate of our home, 
 something of his history. 
 
 To those, therefore, who care to become better acquainted with this 
 little book, we will tell something of its birth and parentage. 
 
 The Lee County Columbian Club, in common with others throughout 
 the entire state, was organized liy an officer of the Illinois Woman's Expo- 
 sition Board— for the purpose of opening communication with all parts of 
 the county, of securing, for the various departments of the great expo- 
 sition any and every item in our county which would add to its interest or 
 give evidence of tlie history, growth, resources, culture, or natural feat- 
 ures of the county. Also to facilitate communication with the State 
 Board; to encourage the study of the Exposition; awakening interest and 
 enabling us to enjoy it more intelligently. 
 
 At one of our earliest meetings Miss Elizabeth J. Shaw spoke with 
 much earnestness of the great historic events which are connected with 
 Lee County, making it a point of interest not only to the state, but to 
 the nation. 
 
 This led to her being requested to prepare a sketch of those events, 
 for the instruction and entertainment of the Club. 
 
 We also wished to commemorate these events in some way by a county 
 exhiijit at the Exposition, and decided to offer a window, on which should 
 be suitably represented, as a center panel, Father Dixon's cabin, the first 
 white man's home on Rock River, and on either side of it pictures of 
 Father Dixon and of Black-Hawk, types of the advancing and receding 
 races. 
 
 That such an exhibit would have been an appropriate and beautiful 
 one, is beyond doubt. That tiie plan met with insurmouritable difficul- 
 ties and was reluctantly abandoned is a source of inexpressible and 
 unceasing regret— but such was the case, and we record it here that 
 there may be at least this proof of the taste which proposed, and the 
 cheerful willingness which would have carried out the project had it 
 been possible. 
 
 Meantime the Club had listened to Miss Shaw's admirable paper, 
 (which forms a chapter in this l)ook, ) and to a second by Mrs. Chase, of 
 Amboy, on the "Pioneer Women" of that township, which so awakened 
 interest that we began to realize the opportunity for co-operation afforded 
 by the county organization and to ask that similar papers be gathered 
 from the entire county. 
 
 We asked for papers referring to facts and experiences in pioneer life — 
 especially thatof the pioneer women, which had not already been recorded 
 in the various histories of the county, endeavoring to make them nuire 
 like the Qreside chat of old friends than a mere ftirnial record of names 
 
 — 5 — 
 
and events. In many cases the response was at once generous and 
 sympathetic; friends caught up the spirit of the enterprise and gave us 
 papers that will delight you as they have us; others equally willing did 
 not realize that stories of pioneer women were most desired, ( r, perhaps, 
 thought with the good old deacon, that "the brethren always embraced 
 the sisters;" or feared, as another deacon did in regard to lieaven "that 
 there'd be so many more women than men, that it wouldn't be interest- 
 ing," but they wrote delightful papers in the masculine gender, and they, 
 too, will give you pleasure. 
 
 But alas! many others equally willing and anxious for our success 
 "would gladly aid us but it was so long ago they had forgotten, etc., etc." 
 One of our best contributors says: "Sometimes I fave up, here; some- 
 times I followed them up with a "Columbian Shorter Catechism," and in 
 this way I became possessed of some interesting and picturesque incidents. 
 At, one time about all I could get was 'the way they heated the water to 
 scald the hogs.' I thought if our book lived and should ever reach those 
 whom we shall never live to see, my part of it would be those hot rocl<s a 
 thunderin' down the ages!" 
 
 Others wrote more formal particulars, but all have been preserved 
 and all are of interest. 
 
 When we were obliged to abandon our hope of the window, it was too 
 late to attempt any other project, so we decided to collect all this 
 material at once, and publish it as a book for our exhibit. 
 
 Not that it is as desirable an exhibit as the window would have been, 
 or as it might have been made had we known the end from the beginning 
 but we had no better resource. 
 
 So, whether you see it among the varied exhibits at the great exposi- 
 tion or place it among your household treasures, this is its history, and it 
 is yours as well as ours. It is not all we wished or hoped, probably not 
 all that you expect, but if you are inclined tocriticise the omission of any 
 matter remember that the omission is your own. If you say," why did 
 you not put in this, or that?" we shall address the question to you, in 
 reply. Such as has been given us, we give you, wishing no less than you 
 that it was more complete. 
 
 Look upon its failings then, with allowance, drop a tear on the sad 
 pages, and laugh with your children over the merry ones. Teach them 
 how true it is, and that it was written for them. Then we shall feel 
 that the mission of our little book has been fulfilled, for as Welister says: 
 "Those who do not look upon themselves as a link connecting the past 
 with the present, do not perform tiieir duty to the world." 
 
 — 6 — 
 
By Mrs. ^ G. GBas^,. 
 
Tfie Fir^ii lr2^Q^%^t^uiJS>. 
 
 M' 
 
 IDWAY between Chicago and the Mississippi River, in north lati- 
 tude, between 41 and 42 degrees and in west longitude 12 degrees 
 and 30 minutes, lies Lee County. Fifty years ago the Indians 
 roamed at large over the vast billows of prairie land, glided up and down 
 the silvery streams in the light canoe, and lodged beneath the protecting 
 branches of the beautiful trees that bordered the winding rivers. No 
 boundary line of town or county then intersected this part of Illinois. 
 Since 1680 the Illinois country had been subject to France or Great Britain, 
 and not until 1783 had the United States claimed possession of it. Even 
 then the Starry Flag waved aloft in imagination only, for no white man 
 had claimed its protection. As late as 1818 the settled part of the state 
 extended only a little north of Alton. A remnant of the French Colony 
 founded by LaSalle in 1(580, njany of whom had intermarried with the 
 Indians; and American emigrants, chietiy from Kentucky, Virginia and 
 Pennsylvania, had increased the population of Southern Illinois to the 
 number of twelve thousand. These, strengthened with the aid of one 
 company of regular soldiers, resisted, in the war of 1812, the combined 
 encroachments of the English with tlie Kickapoos, Sacs, Foxes, Potta- 
 wattomies, Winnebagoes and Shawuees. These tribes still encamped at 
 intervals in Northern Illinois, and not until after the close of the Black 
 Hawk war in 1831 and 1832, when the Indians were relegated to their 
 claims beyond the Mississippi river, was this portion of the state open for 
 the peaceful abode of the white man. Here, a few miles east of us, lived 
 Shabbona, chief of the Pottawattomies, with his tribe, and Black Hawk, 
 chief of the Sacs, dwelt at the jiincLion of Rock River and the Missis- 
 sippi, while farther north were the Winnebagoes, and farther south the 
 Kickapoos and Shawnees. 
 
 The atrocities and treacheries of the Indian have been commented 
 upon until every one has sufficient information in that direction, and 
 we will turn to other characteristics not as often described; and as this 
 
 — 10 — 
 
section of the state of Illinois was iiiiial)ite(l by the tribes above ruen- 
 tioiied and the Foxes, (as named by tlie Frencli, but called Ottoganiies 
 by the other Indian tribes), we will direct our atteniion to what we can 
 learn of them; our predecessors on these prairies. Here in our groves 
 and Ijeside our streams they built their lodges, hunted and fished, fought, 
 loved and died, while down in the souther n part of Illinois, as in south- 
 ern Indiana, Kentucky and Missouri, the first faint yleams of the dawn 
 of civilization were bcginnins^^ to illumine the green and fiowery wilder- 
 ness of the Great West. Here and there, miles apart, the rising smoke 
 from the solitary cabin would send a gleam of hope to a weary traveler, 
 or a rav of light from some lonely hut would beckon the benighted 
 wanderer to the comfort and joy of human companionship. It is true 
 that in these wild regions the human beings were sometimes inhuman, 
 and the unhappy explorer found a terril)le welcome; but far, far oftener 
 the mercy which had come from heaven !.>jet hinj, and having been shel- 
 tered, warmed and fed, he proceeded on his way to untried fields beyond. 
 Year after year brought new inliabitants, and farther and farther west 
 and north the pioneer t)pened up a high-way for multitudes, in time, to 
 follow, and to reach, at iasti, the homes of the red men here. Tlie hard- 
 ships of those who led the way to civilization there, were soon to be borne 
 by the brave spirits who inaugurated prosperity for us here, and before 
 this story is ended, we shall see with admiration what noble men and 
 women were led forlh by the unseen hanti to prepare the way for us who 
 followed. One short extract (lescril)ing pioneer life in Southern Illinois 
 and adjacent territory years before the pioneers had reached here, and 
 then we will tarry awhile with the original "settlers" before we take up 
 the histories of our own. It is from the autobiography of Peter Cart- 
 right, the renowned itinerant Methodist preacher who commenced liis 
 labors in 1804, at the age of nineteen years, and continued them for sixty 
 years; and whose circuit extended 600 mile?, and who is said to have 
 preached 18,000 sermons. 
 
 "We killed our meat out of the woods, wild, and beat our meal and 
 hominy with a pestle and mortar. We stretched a deer skin over a hoop, 
 burned holes in it with the prongs of a fork, sifted our meal, baked l)read 
 eat it, and it was first rate eating, too. We raised or gathered out of the 
 woods our own tea. We had sage, bohea, cross-bone, spice aiul sassafras 
 teas in abundance. We made our sugar out (tf the water of the maple 
 tree, and our molasses too. These were great luxuries in those days. 
 Ministers of different (h'nominations cauie in and preached through the 
 country; but the Methodist preachers were the pioneer messengers of 
 salvation in these ends of tlie earth. People unacquainted with frontier 
 
 — 11 — 
 
life fifty 01" sixty years ago, can form but a very imperfect idea of the 
 sutTerinys and liardships the early settlers of these western states under- 
 went at that day, when Methodist preachers went from fort to fort, 
 from camp to camp, from tent to tent, from cabin to cabin, with or 
 without road or path. We waliced on dirt floors, sat on stools or benches 
 for chairs, ate on puncheon tables, had forked sticlis and poclcet or 
 butcher knives for knives and forks, slept on bear, deer or buffalo skins 
 before the fire, sometimes on the ground in open air for downy beds, luid 
 our saddles or saddle-bags for pillows of feathers; iuid one new suit of 
 clothes of home spun was ample clothinj; for one year for an early Meth- 
 odist preacher in the west. We crossed creeks and large rivers without 
 bridges or ferryboats, often swam tliem on horseback or crossed on trees 
 that had fallen over the stream, drove our horses over and often waded 
 over waist deep, and if by chance we got a dugout or canoe to cross in 
 ourselves, and swim our horses by, it was quite a treat. The above course 
 of training was the colleges in which we early Methodist preachers grad- 
 uated and from which we took our diplomas. Here we solved our 
 mathematical problems, declined our nouns and conjugated our verbs, 
 parsed our sentences, and became proficient in the dead languages of the 
 Indian and back-woods dialect." 
 
 The Abbe 'em, Domenech, a missionary to the Indians, has given an 
 account of some of the customs, traditions and legends of those tribes, 
 which from having once inhabited this part of Illinois, are of greatest 
 interest to us. He described many lovely and beautiful traits in these 
 poor untutored children of the wilderness, and translated some of their 
 songs and legends, specimens of which are introduced here. 
 
 Those who have read the life of Black Hawk will recollect his long 
 and heavy mourning for his departed children, and also, that his greatest 
 sorrow and regret in leaving the country, which had been ceded to the 
 whites, was in bidding adieu to the graves of his ancestors. 
 
 One historian who had known the Indians well, speaks of their great 
 tenderness for their children. Not having any regular time for eating, 
 and depending much on wild game for sustenance, they are sometimes a 
 long time without food, as the hunters are not always successful. Some- 
 times the father returns home without sullicient game to supply the 
 family, in which case the parents invariably continue their own fasting 
 while all which has been taken is given to the children. 
 
 Black is the sign of mourning among Indians as among us. Among 
 several of the.se northern tribes, a woman who fias lost a child in the 
 cradle, places it in its little wicker bed wliich she lias fitted with black 
 feathers, and carries it about with her for one whole year, in all her 
 
emigrations, places it in her cabin, speaks to it and sings, gay or sad, as 
 if tlie child were still alive and could smile and answer lier. Tlie widows 
 of tlie Fox Indians remain several months without changing their clothes 
 or giving any care to theirjlress. This custom is common in many tribes 
 of the north. 
 
 The Sacs and Foxes place their dead, wrapped in blankets or buffalo 
 skins, in rude coffins made of old canoes or the bark of trees and bury 
 them. If the deceased was a warrior, a post is erected above his head 
 painted with red bars, indicating the number of men, women and chil- 
 dren he has killed during his life and who are to be his slaves in the land 
 of shadows. 
 
 The grief of these children of the desert has in it something so touch- 
 ing and simple that it strikes even the coldest hearts; — and often they 
 are seen talking, weeping or singing by their graves as if the dead could 
 hear them. 
 
 Although some of the Indians are very poetical, the sweet cadences 
 of measured rhyme have never been known among them, but like the 
 Orientals they chant their songs of love or of war. "The flnest song 
 known" is the one improvised and sung by the celebrated Chippewa 
 Chief Onaoubogie before and after a great victory which he had gained 
 over the Sioux, the Foxes and the Sacs. The translation is by the 
 Abbe' em Domenech. 
 
 A chief of a tribe not having a permanent army at his command, is 
 obliged to have recourse to voluntary enlistment whenever he wishes to 
 declare war against a hostile tribe. Then, through the medium of 
 couriers whom he sends to every lodge and village of his nation, he 
 assembles all the men capable of bearing arms; after which, in a pre- 
 paratory ceremony, he extemporizes a few stanzas of energetic poetry, 
 which he sings with flery enthusiasm gesticulating and accompanying 
 himself with the drum and raquetts. The auditors' imagination is 
 gradually excited by all they hear; they become animated with the war- 
 like ardor of their chieftain, and generally llnish by enlisting en masse to 
 tight and die under his command. 
 
 ONAOUBOGIE'S WAR SONG. 
 
 " Hearken to my voice, you brave heroes! 
 
 The day is coming when our warriors 
 Will fall upon our cowardly enemies. 
 
 My heart burns with a just vengence 
 Against the cruel, treacherous race 
 
 Of the Sioux the Foxes and the Sacs. 
 Here, my breast is covered with blood. 
 
 Behold! behold the wounds caused by the coullict! 
 Mountains tremble at my cries! 
 
 I light! I strike! I kill! 
 
 — 13 — 
 
But whore arc my enemies? they are dying. 
 
 They fly in the prairie like foxes; 
 They tremble like the leaves during a tempest, 
 
 Perfldous dogs! you have burnt our children. 
 We will hunt during five winters, 
 
 And we shall mourn for our massacred warriors 
 Until our youths having become men, 
 
 Shall be instructed for war. 
 Then will our days end hke those of our fathers. 
 
 You are no more noble warriors, you are gone. 
 My brother, my companion, my friend. 
 
 To the path of death, where all the brave go; 
 But we live to avenge you 
 
 And we will die as died our ancestors." 
 
 When the son of a warrior wishes to get married, "he takes his flute 
 and goes at night towards the cabin wherein she rests whom he has 
 chosen for his future spouse ! " He begins by playing a melancholy tune; 
 then he sings words of his own composition which enumerate the cliarms 
 of his beloved. He lilcens her to the sweet perfumes of the wild flowers, 
 to the pure water that flows from the rocks, to the graceful trees of the 
 forests, and to the veidant banks of the river in which she bathes. He 
 afterwards promises her a long series of happy days in his wigwam, until 
 the hour when they should depart for the enchanted prairies, where joy 
 is without end. 
 
 The following is selected by Abbe' em Domenech from a great number 
 of Indian love chants that had become popular on the prairies, and trans- 
 lated by him. 
 
 '•My Dove's eye, listen to the sound of my flute; 
 
 Hearkew to the voice of my songs, it is my voice. 
 
 Do not blush, all thy thoughts are known to me. 
 
 I have my magic shield, tliou canst not escape. 
 
 I shall always draw thee to me, even shouldst thou be 
 
 In the most distant Isle, beyond the great lakes. 
 
 I am mighty by my strength and valor. 
 
 Listen, my betrothed, it is to thy heart that 1 speak. 
 
 ******** 
 The finest bears of the prairies shall become my prey, 
 I will exchange horses for necklaces; 
 Thy moccasins shall become shining beads, 
 Fly not from me ; I will go even up to the clouds to keep 
 
 thee. 
 The Great Spirit is for me, my betrothed; 
 Hearken to the voice of my song, it is my voice." 
 
 Wc have given two specimens of Indian poetry, one of war, the other 
 of love. The two poems which follow were improvised and sung by In- 
 dian women. In the village, as in the forests, wlicn the child wishes to 
 sleep its mother suspends the cot in which it lies, and which she has or- 
 namented with the greatest care, to a beam or to a branch; she then 
 rocks it to and fro, singing a song which is either extemporized or be- 
 come popular from habit. The literal translation of the song given 
 
 — 14 — 
 
below beinti impossible, the translator was oblige to be content with 
 reproducing the sense, and not word for word of the original. 
 
 "Balance, balance thou pretty cot. 
 
 Roll on, roll on aerial wave; 
 Sleep, sleep, baby, sleep, sleep. 
 
 For thy mother watches over thee. 
 It is she who will ever rock thee, 
 
 Sleep, sleep, baby, sleep, sleep. 
 
 Little darling, thou art thy mother's love. 
 
 Sleep, sleep, my child, sh^ep sleep. 
 Tiny cradle, balance, balance, 
 
 Rock my baby near me; 
 Sweet darling do not weep. 
 
 For thy mother watches over thee. 
 
 Roll on, roll on, aerial wave. 
 
 Gently rock my sleeping babe; 
 His mother is near him watching 
 
 That he may not be alone, 
 Wave in the air thou pretty cot; 
 
 Wave, wave, sweet little child." 
 
 The musical beauty of the Indian words repeated oft as in the song 
 is said to constitute an indescribal)le chartu. 
 
 Many can doubtless recall the sad story of the Indian woman who, 
 distracted and heart-brolten at having been al)andoned by her husband, 
 embarked in a canoe with her baby, and allowed herself to perish in the 
 St. Anthony Falls. When she saw that the current carried off her frail 
 skiff, and that all hope of life was lost, she rose, holding her infant in 
 her arms, and began to sing in a solemn and sad air the following words: 
 
 "It was for him whom I solely cherished with all the love of my heart; 
 
 It was for him that I prepared the freshly killed game and that my 
 cabin was so daintily bedecked; 
 
 It was for him that I tanned the skin of the noble stag and that I em- 
 broidered the moccasins which adorn his feet. 
 
 Every day at sunrise I anxiously awaited the return of him whom I 
 loved; 
 
 My heart beat with joy as soon as I heard the step of my brave hunts- 
 man; 
 
 He would throw down his load at the door of my cabin— it was a deer, 
 and I would hasten to prepare it for the repast. 
 
 My heart was attached to my spouse, and to me his love was more 
 tlian all the world; 
 
 But he has forsaken me for another and now life has become a bur- 
 den to me which I can no longer support; 
 
 Mv child is also a grief to my heart, for he is so like him. 
 
 How can I »'ndure life when all its moments are so cruel and so poign- 
 ant to me ! 
 
 1 have elevated my voice towards the Master of Life; I have besought 
 Him to take back the life He had given me, for I wish foi- it no longer. 
 
 I am going on with the current that carries me off, and that will sat- 
 isfy my desire and my prayers 
 
 I see the waters foaming, I see it gush forth impetuously, it shall be 
 my i^hroud. 
 
 I hear the deep mufmurs of the gulf,— it is my funeral song. Farewell! 
 Farewell!" 
 
 — 17 — 
 
The Sacs and Foxes, as well as several other tribes, believe that at the 
 time of the deluge, a man and woman remained on the summit of a high 
 mountain, after all the rest of the human race were drowned. When 
 the waters subsided the Great Si)iriL took pity on these two beings, and 
 sent them fire l)y the raven whose plumage was then white; the raven, 
 having stopped to feed on the carcass of a buffalo, let the fire die out, 
 and returned to heaven to fetch more. Then the Great Spirit as a pun- 
 ishment, changed the color of its feathers from white to l)lack and gave 
 the fire to another l)ird, which carried it faithfully to its destination 
 without stopping. DilTerent tribes have varieties of the same traditions 
 more or less embellished, and which it is useless to introduce here. 
 
 At every step in the study ol the religion of the Indians, one perceives 
 that if not of Hebrew origin it is, at least, strongly imbued with 
 Hiblical tradition, more or less nerverted l)y the fantastic and vivid 
 imagination of these simple beings with their passionate love for all that 
 is marvelous. 
 
 Some authors equally distinguished for their erudition and their 
 practical knowledge of the Tndiatis, have looked upon the legend we are 
 al)out to relate, as a distorted reminiscence of the redemption which was 
 sealed upcni Calvary. 
 
 Ascending the Mississippi, a littile above St. Louis, l)etween Alton 
 and the Illinois river, there is a narrow pass conliiu-d lietween two high 
 hills, at the bottom of which runs the Piusa. a livulet which flows 
 into the river. At this place is a smooth, perpendicular rock, upon 
 which at two or three yards hight an immense image of a l)ird witli out- 
 spread wings is chiseled on the stone. This image, from which the 
 streamlet takes its name, is called by the Indians, Piusa, that is to say, 
 th(! man-devouring bird, and is thus named from the circumstance that 
 follows. 
 
 " Many thousand moons befor the arival of the white men, Nanabush. 
 the benevolent intercessor for mankind, destroyed the great Mammouth 
 or Mastodon, the bones of which are still to be found in many parts of 
 America. At that time there was a bird of such prodigious strength 
 
 — 18 — 
 
and size, that he could easily carry away a stag in his talons. This bird 
 having once tasted of human llesh, from that time forward, would eat no 
 other food. He was as cunning as he was strong; he used to make a 
 sudden dart at an Indian, carry him away to one of his caves in the rocl<, 
 and there devour him at leisure. Hundreds of warriors had been 
 unsuccessful in their attempts to destroy him. Entire villages were thus 
 laid to waste by him, and terror was spread among the tribes of Illinois. 
 At length Outaga, a warrior chief, whose renown extended far beyond 
 the great lalces, withdrew from the rest of his tribe, spent a whole month 
 in fasting and solitude, and prayed to the Great Spirit to deliver his 
 children from the fangs of Piusa. During the last night, the Great 
 Spirit appeared to him in a dream, and commanded him to select twenty 
 warriors, and to hide them in a place which he pointed out to him, each 
 man being armed with a bow and a poisoned arrow. One warrior alone 
 was to show himself openly, and become a victim to the winged monster, 
 at whom all the others were to let fly their arrows, the moment the bird 
 fastened on its prey. 
 
 "When Outaga awoke, he gave thanks to the Great Spirit; he then 
 went back to his tribe, related his dream, and the twenty warriors were 
 forthwith chosen, armed, and placed in ambush, Outaga himself offering 
 to become the victim and so perish for the rest of his tribe. From the 
 rising ground where he stood, the brave Indian beheld the Piusa perched 
 on his rock. He drew himself up with majestic bearing, planting his 
 feet firmly on the soil; and laying his right hand upon his calm and 
 unmoved heart, he lifted up his voice and began the death chant of the 
 warrior. The monster spread out his wings, and quick as lightning fell 
 upon the Indian chief. But every bow was ready strained, every warrior 
 let his arrow fly, and. each arrow pierced through the body of the Piusa, 
 who sank and expired at tlie feet of Outaga with a savage and terrific 
 shriek. The Great Spirit rewarded the sacrifice of the generous chief by 
 suspending over his head an invisible shield which preserved him from 
 being hurt by his friends' arrows, or by the talons of the bird." 
 
 In remembrance of this event the image of the Piusa was carved on 
 the rock, and no Indian ever goes past this place in his canoe without 
 aiming a shot at the monster's effigy. The rirles have left innumerable 
 marks on the stone, and the whole fal)le seems to borrow an air of truth 
 from the fact that all the natural caverns in the surrounding hills are 
 filled with bones of thousands of human beings. 
 
 The celebrated Methodist preaclier, Peter Cartright, D. D., who 
 
 — 19 — 
 
labored for more than sixty years chiefly in the Mississippi Valley, leaves 
 this in his autobio}?raphy published in 1856, in describing his llrst visit to 
 Rock Island Mission, which corroborates the truth of the above. 
 
 "Here on the north side of Rock River, on the rising ground from the 
 Mississippi bottom, stands the sight of one of the oldest Indian towns in 
 the north or north-west. It is a beautiful site for a city. There are to 
 be seen lying, bleached and bleaching, the bones of ummmhtred thousands 
 of this poor, wild and roaming race of human beings. It was the 
 center of the vast and powerful, unbroken, warlike tribes of the 
 north-west. This particular spot was claimed by the notorious Black- 
 Hawk and his tribe. If they had been civilized, and had known the real 
 arts of war, it would have been utterly impossible for the Americans to 
 have vanquished and subdued them as they have done. When I looked 
 at the fields in cultivation by the whites, where the ground had been for 
 ages the country of the Indians, a spirit of sorrow came over me. Had 
 they been an educated and civilized people there no doubt would now be 
 standing on this pre-eminent site, as splendid a city as New York. But 
 thef' are wasted away and gone to their long home. I saw a scattered 
 few that there crowded back by the unconquerable march of the white 
 man." 
 
 A tradition prevails among the Sacs and Ft)xes in which we can trace 
 a great analogy to the Mosaic account of the creation of man and the 
 confusion of tongues. According to those Inrlians the Great Spirit 
 created, in the first place, two men; l)ut on seeing that His work was 
 thus insufficient for its purpose, He took from each man a rib, of which 
 He formed two women. The Indian race are descended from these two 
 couples. All men were at first united in one great nation; l)ut tney 
 became wicked, and after that the Great Spirit visited them and gave 
 them the knowledge of several tongues, thereby creating among them 
 confusion, which compelled them to separate and to form all the differ, 
 ent tribes which are yet in existence. 
 
 Before bidding adieu to the first inhabitants of these prairies, let us 
 cast a kindly glance at the departed, and, as it were, leave a wreath of 
 prairie flowers over the remains of that diminishing race whose once 
 loved acres we now inhabit. No longer can the green mounds, their 
 sacred tombs, receive the pathetic care of friend or descendant. Tlie 
 proud race of the children of Nature has drunk of the bitter cup of 
 humiliation and desolation. Let us cherish compassion for their mis- 
 fortune, and in the twilight of their setting sun linger in tender reveries 
 before we s-dy farewell. 
 
 — 20 — 
 
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THOMAS J. DEXTER 
 
THE FIRST WniTE INHABITANTS OF AMBOY, 
 
 FAR out in the Atlantic ocean, there is, or was, an enormous, sub- 
 nier^fed forest called "gulf weed," from its connection with the 
 great "Gulf Stream" from the (lulf of Mexico. This is so dense as some- 
 times to impede the progress of ships, and when encountered by Colum- 
 bus on his exploring voyage westward, it was thought by the superstitious 
 sailors to be a barrier placed there l)y a,n angry Providence to prevent 
 their passage; or at all events, to warn them against further progress. 
 But Columbus was a man with a purpose too grand to be overawed by 
 the ocean forest and a thousand other ills, and his fearless perseverence 
 reaped a rich reward. 
 
 How many a Columbus we have met and have not known it. How 
 many grand spirits have crossed our pathway and, perchance, walked and 
 talked with us day by day, whose earthly environments have blinded us 
 to the regal honors we were receiving in sharing their company. They 
 may have been rough in speech, unlettered and awkward, and coarsely 
 clad, and yet all these external appearances were but as the husks which 
 had hidden and protected the finest, noblest souls that shall be unveiled 
 in Paradise. 
 
 n And through marsh and fen and bog and slough and dangers seen and 
 unseen, in the years gone by these Columbians, both men and women 
 have pressed on, hoping and believing that somewhere in the Great West, 
 sweet Mother Nature with smiling face and green and sunny garments 
 was waiting to receive them to an earthly home which, to the wanderer's 
 vision, appeared a. type of "Canaan's Happy Land," beyond the swelling 
 flood of Jordan. 
 
 On a day in the latter part of May, 1835, when not a human habita- 
 tion, save the ruins of some Indian lodge, marked the landscape, two 
 heavily laden wagons, each drawn by two horses, and containing house- 
 hold goods, a tent, two men, two women and four children, moved slowly 
 onward until they reached some rising ground, sheltered by trees near 
 
the banks of Green river, just east of the present locality of Binghanipton. 
 Here they alighted and pitched a small tent,'the two men prei)aring for 
 an encampment,|wliilc the women were l)upy in making ready the even- 
 ing meal. The elder woman tended and- watched the twin l)a])ies, two 
 little boys; the yoiinger.woman'pcrformed the more active service. The 
 older man was smaller than the younger and wore spectacles. The 
 younger was a gieat, strong, stalwart man, ruddy and grey eyed, his step 
 fearless, the work of his hands as if a determined will reached through 
 every fiber to finger tips. The elder woman was thin and quiet, with a 
 look in her face as if motherhood was in her heart but perchance not in 
 her life, while she lavished on the little ones the tenderness of a real 
 mother. The young moth(;r was a "perfect woman nobly planned," of full 
 habit, finely proportioned, with large blue eyes and beautiful complexion. 
 The little Thomas, five years old, and Mary, three, with the twins, 
 Matthew and Mark, complete the group of the first white inhabitants of 
 Amboy— the Dexter family. 
 
 The older man was he whom we have heard spoken of as "Old Doctor 
 Dexter," and was an uncle of John Dexter. He married a maiden lady 
 just before emigrating west, and they soon located in a little cabin be- 
 tween Lee Center and Inlet Grove. 
 
 John Dexter was born October 8th, 1803, of hardy Welsh parentage, 
 whose ancestors emigrated to America in the early part of the ITth cen- 
 tury and settled in Connecticut; their descendeiits emigrating to Maine, 
 New York, Canada, Michigan, Illinois, and later on, to Iowa, Kansas, 
 California, and the Sandwich Islands. 
 
 Mrs. Dexter's maiden name, was Margaret .Mclnarrie Dudgeon, of 
 Scotch-Irish Presbyterian ancestry, that came to America the latter 
 part of the 17th century and settled in the state of New York, their 
 descendents moving into Canada and the western reserve; and from 
 Canada came John and Margaret Dexter with their four children. 
 
 They first reared a cabin twelve feet square witli a shed roof, and in 
 this they lived for some time before building the addition as represented 
 in the engraving. 
 
 The country around seemed inexpressibly beautiful to our new inhabi- 
 tants, and Mr. D. named the place Palestine, because it seemed to him 
 the Promised Land. If lu.t "flowing with milk and honey" it yielded 
 wild honey and fruit, and every kind of game in abundance. 
 
 Here was the grove with its singing^l)ir(ls and the music of the running 
 river, far broader and more beautiful tlien than now, since the swamp 
 lands from wiiich it takes its rise have been drained. The- voices of 
 
 — 26 — 
 
children and all the sweet sounds of nature broke upon the sublime 
 and majestic silence of the vast expanse around them; and on a clear 
 morning, sometimes the whole country from Palestine Grove west, ^and 
 from Dixon to Sterling on ilock iliver, was mirrored on the sky in the 
 wonderful mirage. 
 
 About six miles from Mr. Dexter's cabin lived Adolphus Bliss, who 
 had settled there the year before. This was considered a near neighbor. 
 Mr. Dexter planted a garden and some sod corn, and with cows and 
 chickens, which he had obtained, they made out to live and wait for the 
 future. But a cold winter was at hand, and notwithstanding the joy of 
 the summer days, the hardships of pioneer life were at the threshold. 
 The hungry wolves prowled about the dooryard, and Mrs. Dexter had 
 often to drive them away and watch to keep her children safe from them 
 as well as from rattlesnakes; and later on, from fever and ague and the 
 diseases of a new country. The only roads then were the Indian trails. 
 The nearest grist mill was fifty miles away, and when out of flour they 
 ground wheat in the coffee mill, and instead of bread, often ate hulled 
 corn. The long winter wore away, and in the spring James Doan and 
 wife arrived and settled near; In the autumn Mr. John Doan and family 
 came, and three miles east the Ingals family settled. Andrew Bainter 
 came in the spring of 1837. Asa 6. Searles and Benjamin Wasson in the 
 fall, and the Blairs and others soon followed. 
 
 From different sources we have glimpses of the home life at Mr. Dex- 
 ter's. We hear of Mrs. Dexter lending books, among them the "History 
 of the Reformation," and an ancient bible, its leaves yellow with age, yet 
 in good preservation as if evidently cared for, is in possession of the 
 family. On a blank page is the following in Mr. Dexter's writing: 
 
 The Bible is the best of books 
 
 With which tliis world is blest. 
 Take that away and do but look 
 
 What nonsense Is the rest. 
 
 Therefore that Book, the Bible true. 
 
 My heart shall ever prize, 
 And when despise its truths I do, 
 
 May darkness close my eyes. 
 
 John Dexter is my name. 
 
 Great Britain is my nation. 
 Vaughan is my dwelling place. 
 
 In Christ 1 hope for salvation.— March 17. 1833. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Dexter, now living in Woodland, California, writes: "Of 
 my mother, I remember her struggles to care for her little lirood. 
 Tiiere were antrels, as Emerson says, hovering around;— Toil and Want 
 and Hope and Mutual Faith:— and ot/jerangels— Gracious Mother Wasson 
 
 — 27 — 
 
and Doan and Frost and Rainterand Badgor and Rridgonmn. The uo 
 certain eye of youth made me see them as unapproachable. In 1837 an 
 old Congregational minister from Maine, Mr. Stinson, stopped with us. 
 He iWas thoroughly orthodox, and drilled us on the King's Highway. 
 Don't forget that he and Mr. DeWolfe, an Episcopalian, and James 
 Hawley, a happy Methodist, helped to lay the foundation of Amboy's 
 Spiritual Zion. Mr. DeWolfe used to hold services about once a month 
 in our old log house, and Father Corbett alternated." 
 
 Mrs. Dexter let no opportunity be lost for her children's benefit. As 
 the years went by and the new settlers moved in and a school-house was 
 built, at every meeting and on every school day they were sent, dressed 
 with perfect neatness, their bright faces and shining hair reflecting the 
 mother's love. A lady who used to see them at church, says: " I never 
 saw sweeter looking children. I knew very little of their mother, but I 
 can recall her lovely complexion and large blue eyes." Mrs James Doan, 
 still living, says: "You cannot say too much in praise of Mrs. Dexter, 
 She was exquisitely neat and an excellent cook, a most devoted wife and 
 a very affectionate mother. As intimate as I was with her, I never heard 
 her complain throughout the years of her hardships. Every one loved 
 her." She was always busy. In her husband's absence she had the whole 
 care of ten cows. She sold butter and eggs at Dixon, the nearest market, 
 and paid for a cooking stove with butter at five or six cents a pound giv- 
 ing $66.00 for it. The stove was oblong, about three feet by eighteen inches, 
 with an upper story about half way the length of the stove for an oven, 
 and three griddles on top. But after all her sacrifices to obtain it, she 
 soon discarded it and went back to the old fireplace. She made crab- 
 apple dumplings for a treat for the children and stewed green grapes for 
 a feast with their bread; and let the neighbor's l)oys come to play in the 
 house, never frowning at the noise they made. 
 
 After the Dexter's had settled here the Indians encamped near them 
 and raised corn on land where Mr. Badger now lives. The young Indians 
 were playmates with the white children and there was no little spirit of 
 emulation between them in the skillful use of the bow and arrow. Mr. 
 Thomas J. Dexter writes: "On our old farm wandering bands of Potto- 
 wattomies. Sacs, (or Sauks), Foxes and Shawnee Indians would pitch their 
 tents, and never offer violence to any one unless first aggravated. Shab- 
 bona was a grand Indian who loved peace, and undertook to save white 
 families from the rage of other warriors who had determined to slaughter 
 all in northern Illinois. Many times I have gone with him when a boy 
 to Chicago. As to trips to Chicago, I recollect, as yesterday, taking a 
 faithful old team that knew if they followed Lewis Clapp, or "Uncle" 
 
 - 28 — 
 
MARY J. DEXTER. 
 
 (MUS. TOUKTILLOTTE. 
 
Ben Wasson, Andy Bainter, Uriel Bridt;inan, Simon or Cliester Badger 
 or AsaSearles they would Ret to Chicago all right, and sell wheat, threshed 
 with a flail for 30 or 40 cents a bushel. It is hardly probable your average 
 Lee County boy of today, from 11 to 15 years of age, would care for that 
 sort of a job. It was a good school, nevertheless, Mrs. John Doan, 
 mother of James Doan and Mrs. Andy Bainter, was good as gold refined. 
 She was earnest in all that makes men better. Mrs. Bridgeman, Mrs. 
 Wasson, Mrs. Badger, Mrs. Patience Searles, and on Memory's walls I find 
 high toward heaven 'Aunt' Mary, a good Catholic and christian, wife of 
 Elisha Dexter, and Mrs. James Ilawiey, and Mrs. Farvveli and Mrs. Davis. 
 Are their names not written in the Ik)ok of Life?" 
 
 Tlie niglit cometh as well as the day. and Mrs. Dexter had need of the 
 ministry and sympathy of these good neighbors. Sickness often came to 
 her and twice death had entered hev home and left the cradle empty. 
 
 "The last sad act is drawing on. 
 A little while by the golden gate 
 
 Of the holy heaven to which you are gone. 
 
 , Wait, my darlings, wait." 
 
 Through the long vista of years and with the aid of others' eyes, we 
 glance again into the home of the Dexter's. The mother is pale and her 
 light step gone and her face carries a look of sadness. So much to do and 
 her strength waning; yet she quilts and knits and sews, and is always 
 busy. Mr. Dexter, with Mr. Warren Badger and Mr. Palmer, has built a 
 flouring mill. The little Thomas, five years old when we flrst knew him, 
 is a lad of fourteen now; Mary, who was three, is a Miss of twelve; the 
 twins, Matthew and Mark, are in their eleventh year, andSimon, the flrst 
 white child born in Amboy, is nine years old; Martha is seven and tlie 
 little Harriet is but two. Between her and Martha, two little ones, Jesse 
 and Harriet Elizabeth have folded their wings here for a while and then 
 gone to the skies. The cahin has been enlarged, but still in the largest 
 room, where the family lives, there is a bed in one corner, and the old 
 flre-place, with its chimney outside to give more room, sends out its 
 cheerful home light on this wintry March evening. 
 
 The flickering fire throws the shadows o'er 
 The cabin's well swept punclicon floor; 
 The tea-kettle sings on the swinging crane, 
 And a bannock browns in the ruddy flame. 
 
 Tlie children, weary of work and play 
 At home or at school all the live long day. 
 Sleep sweetly, nor dream of coming care. 
 While tlie gentle mother watches there. 
 
 — 31 — 
 
And tirelessly ever the wintry gale 
 
 Through the burr-oak trees sings its lonely tale; 
 
 Its tale of the home of long ago, 
 
 So far away, yet remembered so! 
 
 A light is set in the window for him 
 
 Who is coming home in the starlight dim; 
 
 By the cheerful hearth stands his vacant chair. 
 
 And the fragrant supper is waiting there. 
 
 Above the rude couch where the children rest, 
 She bendeth low like a heavenly guest; 
 She stops by the youngest in loving guise. 
 And shades the light from the tender eyes 
 
 Then rocks the cradle with gentle swings. 
 And softly the notes of a lullaby sings; 
 Her needles flash bright in the flre-light's blaze. 
 As she knits and dreams of the coming days. 
 
 And she knits and rocks and dreams again. 
 And the lullaby sings with its sweet refrain. 
 While the stockings grow for the little feet. 
 And the weary mother fain would sleep. 
 
 Fold up the work and lay it by; 
 
 The moon is bright in the bending sky. 
 
 The one thou hast watched for is at the door. 
 
 And thy loving vigil, at length is o'er. 
 
 Rest, rest weary mother, nor care for life's pains. 
 
 As heaven grows nearer and earth life wanes; 
 
 Just as thou art watching their needs to see, 
 
 So the white winged angels are guarding thee I 
 
 Heaven's light they are shading from thy dear eyes. 
 
 Not ready yet for the glad surprise; 
 
 He who had not where for His beautiful head 
 
 Is breaking for thee thy daily bread. 
 
 "The spirit is willing, the flesh is weak," 
 Q'hou hearest not what the angels speak;— 
 '•As is thy day so thy strengh shall be," 
 "The arms everlasting are underneath thee." 
 
 Plume, plume thy wings for the sparkling air; 
 Tney are making ready thy dwelling there! 
 If thou leavest thy darlings a little space. 
 More surely shall they behold His face! 
 
 A few weeks have passed away and April's smiles and tears have come 
 and gone. Another little girl, but eight days old has joined the other 
 children under the sunny espaliers of heaven. There is pain and sorrow 
 
 — 32 — 
 
SIMON B. DEXTER. 
 
Young hands In a new country canriol bejdle, and James set to work 
 to build a better house. The site he selected was on the bank of a small 
 creek that they called Willow Branch, a lovely, picturesque place. The 
 house must be made of logs, the one thing plentiful. He hewed them on 
 both sides, and then made a raising to place them one above another. 
 The men who helped him do this were Darius, Cyrrino and Cyrenus Saw- 
 yer, Mr. West, Mr. Stearns, Mr. Reynolds from Inlet Grove, John Dexter 
 and C. F. Ingals The dinner that Susan prepared on this occasion was 
 pronounced delicious by the hungry house-raisers. It consisted of mashed 
 potatoes, wild squirrels, pumpkin pie, coffee, wild honey and bread and 
 butter. This was the second house built and occupied in this section. 
 The first was John Dexter's. A small shanty had been made by Mr. 
 James Hawley, half a mile farther south, but he and his family occupied 
 it but a few days. It was afterwards improved and used for a while by 
 Asa Searles on his first arrival, and still later was owned and lived in by 
 Mr. i^ridgeman, but James Doan's was the second house that was occupied. 
 The Hawley place was the regular camping ground of the Indians, and 
 used by them forseveral years after the whitesettlers came, many Indians 
 camping there at different times. They were peaceable and quiet and 
 were not feared by any oue. Their little tents or huts made of poles and 
 bark in the old Indiau style remained for several years. There were a 
 number of graves made of poles and dirt, but unlike similar graves of 
 the Pottawattomies in Indiana, there was no dead Indian seated in one 
 corner, surrounded by gun and camping outfit asif en route to the "happy 
 hunting grounds." In oue place, near, the remains of a child were 
 fastened to the L01.J of a small tree. James bent tlie tree so tliat they 
 could see the liULle bones that lay in tlie rude.,opeu casket of Indian 
 manufacture. 
 
 Their chief pastime was wandering through the grove in search of 
 berries and wild honey, there being pieniy of boLh. They would often 
 walk to Inlet Grove and to G. h\ lugals', oue of their nearest neigh- 
 bors, who lived about three miles east. 
 
 The old Gentral railroad was surveyed and partly built through this 
 town, passing nearly through liocky Ford. In lb38 Mr. Doan worked on 
 it for a time, but sickness overtook liim and his family and at one time 
 he and the youngest were so near to death's door that the watchers knew 
 not which would be the first to go; but, happily, both recovered. 
 
 People living here now can hardly realize the many, many hardships 
 the earliest settlers had to contend with. In 183tj Mrs. Doan, in company 
 with Mr. and Mrs. John Dexter, made a visit to Dixon. The way was 
 
 — 38 — 
 
CHILDREN. 
 
 Amos Dexter was born February 3, 1797. 
 
 Elizabeth Dexter was born October 31, 1798. Died, September 181G. 
 
 Hiram Dexter was born April 2-4, 1801. 
 
 John Dextjsk was born October 8, 1803. Died, May 22, 1888. 
 
 Mary Dexter was born July 27, 1805. Died, December, 1849. 
 
 Elisha Dexter was born June 8, 1807. Died, April, 1859. 
 
 Asahel Dexter was born March 14, 1809. 
 
 Ahijah Dexter was born February 6, 1811. 
 
 John Dexter and Margaret Dudgeon were married September 24, 1829, 
 at Youngstown, N. Y., by Mr. Hinman, both being residents of Vaughan 
 Upper Canada. Maigaret (Dudgton) Dexter was born Sept. 5, 1812, in 
 Masonville county, N. Y., and died at 7 o'clock a. m., May 21, 1845, at 
 Amboy, Lee Co., Illinois; then called Palestine Grove. 
 
 CHILDREN OF JOHN AND MARGARET DEXTER. 
 
 Thomas J., borti October 22, 1830. 
 
 Mary Jane, born November 8, 1832. Died October, 1878. 
 
 Mathew Kalph and Harvey Mark, born July 27, 1834. 
 
 Simon, born July 22, 1830. 
 
 Martha Ann, l)()rn May 13, 1838. Died Augusts, 1887. 
 
 Jesse, born March IS. 1840. Died, March 21, 1840. 
 
 Harriet Elizabeth, born May 2, 1841. Died, March 17, 1843. 
 
 Harriet Elizabelh, born April 7, 1743. 
 
 A daughter, born April 22, 1845, Died, April 30, 1845. 
 
 Thomas, Mary, Mathew and IMark were born in Vaughan, Home Dis- 
 trict, York County, Upper Catuida. Simon, Mnrtha Ann, Jesse, Harriet 
 Elizabeth and Harriet Elizabeth 2d, and a daughter, (eight days old) 
 born in Palestine Grove, Inlet Precinct, Ogle County, 111., noto Amby, Lee 
 County, Illinois. 
 
Tfie Dosvn FaiT3if^. 
 
 ANOTHER family was soon to be added to the settlement, and in 
 the sprinii of 1836 James Doan and his young wife took up their 
 abode here. She is still livinfj to relate her recollections. 
 
 Susan, Daughter of Frederick and Margaret Bainter, was born in 
 Montgomery county, Ohio, May 17, 181H, where she lived until eleven 
 years of age, when she removed with her parents to South Bend, Indiana. 
 She remained here four years and then removed to Berrian county Mich. 
 Here, on March 27, 1836, she was married to .Tames Doan, and on the 24th 
 of the next month they started for PaiesLine Grove, in company with 
 Mr. D.'s father, l)rother, and sister, where after a fatiguing journey of 
 twenty-one days, they arrived May 13, 1836. They found the country beau- 
 tiful and felt compensated for 1 heii'grealstrugglefur a home in what then 
 seemed the " far west." There were a great many Indians liere. but this 
 did not trouble her as she had been accustomed to seeing njany of them 
 from chiidliood and could speak their language quite well. 
 
 Soon after their arrival they commenced nuiking a temporary shelter 
 to protect them from the rain and sun, living in ilie wagon iti wliich 
 they had journeytid until it was (Ioik;. The mos<[uitot's were a tenible 
 annoyance, a large brusli tire being the only protection from them. 
 
 They began immediately to break prairie ;ind to plant crops for the 
 coming summer and winter. Tliis being done, .James' father, John Doan, 
 with son Gibson and daiigliLer Jemima, returned to Michigan for the 
 remainder of the family, leaving James and Susan in care of the crops, 
 etc. The few months following are strongly impressed on her mind as 
 being some of the most lonely and desolate of those early times. After 
 the routine of houselnjld duties was over for the morning and noon she 
 would go where James was at work and spend the time as best she could 
 until he could go back to the house with her. At that time she was but 
 seventeen years old. Tears were plentiful and cheap with her in those 
 days, yet she felt it was best for them to remain and she would not ask 
 to return to the old home. 
 
 At last a day of rejoicing came. On the 19th day of September they 
 saw in the distance the returning family, John and Charlotte Doan with 
 their sons and daughters. 
 
 — 37 — 
 
and a nameless dread around the place where the dying mother lies. 
 Over the prairies, the white faced, black horses of Dr. Adams are speed- 
 ing to the stricken home, and from Dixon Dr. Nash is hurrying to meet 
 him. Mr. Thomas Dexter writes: "I remember our faith that they could 
 cure her, and our poor, helpless prayers. I remember the mournful cortege 
 of friends who bore her body to that sand hill burial place; Rev. Luke 
 Hitchcock's prayers and the presence of Father Birdsall, the Wassons 
 and Badgers and Doans and Hawleys and Frosts and others — all are 
 photographed on my memory. 
 
 Forty-eight years have passed away since these scenes were enacted. 
 Mr. Dexter died May 22, 1888, in the Soldiers' Home at Quincy, 111. His 
 last wife, Mrs. Leapha M. Palmer, who was the widow of his partner 
 killed in the mill, died May 15, 1863, and Mr. Dexter, although sixty years 
 of age, enlisted in the 46th 111. Infantry. He had been in the army while 
 in Canada. He had a martial spirit and, like the brave Massena, he 
 loved the terrible music that rolled and reverberated over the battle field; 
 withal he was a stern lover of justice, and he believed he was enlisted in 
 a holy cause. Had he lived in the time of the Crusade he would surely 
 have followed Richard Coeur-de-Lion to Palestine. 
 
 Thomas J. Dexter married Miss Eliza Hills, a sister of Dr. Harmon 
 Wasson's wife, and ex-Sheriff Hills, of Dixon, in 1852, and had four daugh- 
 ters. The eldest was named by her aunt, Mrs. Wasson, Nina Lee, for 
 one of Columbus' ships and for Lee county. Who has a prettier passport 
 to a place in our Lee County Columbian book? Her home is in Honolulu. 
 Mr. D., her father, lives in Woodland California. 
 
 Mary Jane married John Tourtillott, of Sublette, Oct. 5, 1856, and died 
 Oct., 1878. Two of her four children are living— Thomas and Ella Mary. 
 Matthew died some years ago. Mark is living at Clear Lake, Iowa. 
 Simon is at Rice Lake, Minn. He served through the war in the 34th 
 Illinois Infantry with honor. 
 
 Martha Ann married Lyman B. Ruggles and removed to California. 
 She, too, has passed away. Harriet married Mr. Fessenden and lives 
 near Mason City, Iowa. 
 
 FAMir^Y IlECOUD. 
 
 Copied from the old family bible, as recorded by Mr. Dexter. 
 John Dexter, son of Elisha Dexter, was born in the state of Connecti- 
 cut on the l.'^th day of February, 1773. Died, Oct. 30, 1815. 
 Jane Dexter was born Feb. 11, 1772. Died, July 14, lS;i9. 
 John Dexter and Jane Niece were married at Genesee, N. Y., 179G. 
 
 — 35 — 
 
JAMES DOAN- 
 
It is pleasant to dwell on this side of pioneer life when the infant 
 settlement abounded in the infantile graces of Christian life, and thought 
 more of doing good, hoping for nothing in return, than of sectarian tenets 
 and the external things of religion. Truly, in these waste places there 
 was a ladder where the angels of God ascended and descended, although 
 the eyes of mortals were holden, and saw not the heavenly vision. 
 
 On the 19th day of September, 1836, John and Charlotte (Odell) Doan, 
 with their children, Joseph, William, Jemima, Sarah, Gibson, Charlotte, 
 Elizabeth, Anna, Jonathan and Ruth, arrived in this settlement to re- 
 ceive the glad welcome of their oldest son, James, and his wife Susan 
 who came in May and who had been watching anxiously for the arrival 
 of father, mother, brothers and sisters. 
 
 They commenced immediately to build a house and ere long had com- 
 pleted one, the largest log house in this section for some time. 
 
 John Doan was a man of excellent character, kind and true. He had 
 been raised with the Quakers and partook of their quiet demeanor, sound 
 principles and undemonstrative disposition. His wife belonged to the 
 Methodist church, and in all her good works and usefulness in the com- 
 munity, she was sanctioned and encouraged by her husband. She was 
 one of a number of women doing the most good in those early days, con- 
 stantly seeking the sick and needy and rendering every possible assist- 
 ance to the sufferers within her reach. She had a large family and could 
 leave the care of the household with the older ones. She was strong and 
 healthy and ambitious in all her undertakings. The itinerant ministers 
 often held their services at her home; these generally occurred on week 
 da.ys. The first minister was by the name of Lumery, who alternated 
 later, once in two weeks, with another by the name of Smith. Smith 
 died at Corrydon Dewey's while nn the circuit, and Lumery went on 
 the rest of the year. Smith died in the winter of 1838. Then came 
 Father Gorbitt, a good old man from Indian Creek; then a Mr. White; 
 after that Rev. Luke Hitchcock, stationed at what is now Lee Centre, 
 often held meetings and officiated at weddings and funerals. 
 
 Mrs. Doan was a devoted and reverent student of her "blessed Bible," 
 and regretted that, having always lived on the frontier, her advantages 
 for education had been so limited. Those who knew her spoke of her as a 
 "Mother in Israel." Mr. Thomas J. Dexter, in writing of her and his 
 mother and Mrs. Col. Badger, Mrs. Wasson and Mrs. Tatietice Searlesand 
 Mrs. Varner, says there was a "Holy of Holies in every one of their lives.'j 
 
 Iler husband died in 1844, at the age of sixty-two years, having been 
 born in North Carolina September 10, 1782. They had lived together 
 
 — 47 — 
 
which time she has lived, part of the' time, with her daughter, Mrs. 
 William Gray, of Dixon, and the remainder at her home in Franl<lin 
 Grove. 
 
 Since the above was written other incidents in the lives of this family 
 have been ariven by one familiar with them. They are of too much inter- 
 est to be omitted. 
 
 Mr. Doan was a Icind hearted man, never passing a little child without 
 a gentle word or laying his hand upon it; and he was a most useful 
 pioneer. He invented the plow which he manufactured^; in company 
 with his brother-in-law, Mr. Bainter, and which was the beginning of 
 the plow manufactory at Binghamton, conducted by others afterwards. 
 
 Many instances of his kindness are recalled by some now living. Once, 
 when twosons of Chief Shabbona were riding on horseback in the vicinity, 
 one of them was thrown and quite severely hurt. Mr. Doan took him 
 home, and seconded by the assistance of his wife and the young Indian's 
 brother, tenderly cared for him until he could be taken home to Shabbona 
 Grove. This was indeed the act of a true neighbor, when their cabin 
 had but one room. This son of Sahbbona was so badly injured that he 
 never recovered, although he lived for some time. 
 
 Mrs. Doan was of the same kind spirit of her husband. She was an 
 intimate friend of Mrs. Dexter, and spent much time with her, when 
 Mrs. D. by reason of sickness, or the care of her little ones, could not 
 leave home She was a gentle, refined woman, skilled with her needle, 
 and better adapted to assist in the lighter than in the heavier work of 
 pioneer life, although sharing in both. She helped Mrs. Dexter in making 
 her children's clothes, and fashioned and made at home the lirst wardrobe 
 of Col. Simon B. Dexter. 
 
 Once, when Mr. Dexter had gone to Chicago with produce, Mr. Doan 
 happened to be passing the creek on his way to Inlet Grove. He saw 
 Mrs. Dexter cutting ice to water tlie cattle. He immediately went to 
 her relief, and tiuished the work for lier. His quick perception discovered 
 to him that Mrs. Dexter was a sick woman. He took her into his 
 "jumper," a vehicle which he had fashioned from the boughs of trees, 
 and went to her home, got the baby and carried both to.liis house. Leav- 
 ing her and the infant in care of his wife, he went for his mother to "help 
 nurse her up;" and got a sister to go and stay with the Dexter children. 
 This was in the morning. At evening, Mrs. D. felt so much better that 
 they took her home, Mr. Doan's mother going with her and remainig sev- 
 eral days, until she could leave her well, her daughters gladly fulfilling her 
 duties at home, so that their mother might comfort those who needed her. 
 
 — 44 — 
 
MRS. JOHN DOAN. 
 
desolate, not one house in those lorif,' tweivc miles, and they neither met 
 nor saw anyone on the way. On their arrival they found one double In^' 
 cabin, one side bein<f used for a store, and the other for a living room for 
 the merchant and his family. The store contained groceries and dry 
 tjoods. Of the latter one could have carried nearly all away in his arms. 
 This store was kept by a Mr. White, and John Dixon, jr., was postmaster 
 at this time. The mail department was in its infancy, as well as the 
 country. 
 
 Their post office was at Inlet Grove, and every letter cost the one who 
 received it twenty-tive cents. A newspaper was a luxury seldom indulj^ed 
 in. Mills were few and far between, the nearest being Leeper's mill, f(irty 
 miles distant, several miles below Princeton. It was a small, inferior 
 affair. James was a jovial fellow and fond of a joke. He praised the 
 little mill and told the miller he thought he had a very good mill, for 
 jMsi as soon as it got one kernel ground it commenced immediately to 
 grind another. This is a sample of all the mills in those days. Tliey 
 sometimes would have to wait a number of days for their turn,, and then 
 wait for the grist. When they had eaten the lunch they carried with 
 them they would work for their board and for what the oxen would eat, 
 by cutting and hauling logs. One time Susan used up all the flour and 
 meal and ground corn in the coffee mill to make a meal or two before 
 their return. This was to her a small matter compared with the anxiety 
 for the absent ones so long gone. 
 
 The first death was a little girl of John Dexter's in 1843. John Fos- 
 dick preached the funeral sermon. The second was Frecierick and 
 Delilah Bainter's little boy, Franklin, in August, 1844. Rev. Luke Hitch- 
 cock attended the funeral; and in October of the same year James' father, 
 John Doan, died. Rev. L. Hitchcock led the services of this funeral also. 
 
 After enduring the hardships of a new country for eight years, Susan 
 with her husband and three children, William, Sarah and Francis, re- 
 turned to South Bend, Ind., near the home of her girlhood, in the spring 
 of 1849 James left his laraily to try to make a fortune in California. He 
 made his trip overland and was quite successful. When about to return 
 he was cruelly murdered on the Kith day of August, 1853. No clue to the 
 assassin was ever discovered. 
 
 The following year she returned to Illinois, having laid her little 
 Francis in the grave, and her husband in an unknown grave, unknown 
 at least to her. Here she has since resided. In September, 1866, she was 
 married to O. J. Fish, of Franklin Grove, when she removed to his honie 
 where she lived until his death, which took place October 20, 1888, since 
 
 — 43 — 
 
thirty-tlve years, their marriage occurring December 28, 1809. Rev. Luke 
 Hitchcock preached the funeral sermon, and in one short year a beloved 
 daughter followed her father. Mrs. Doan outlived several of her chil- 
 dren and died at the ripe age of eighty-one years, while with a daughter 
 In Missouri. 
 
 She was in usual health; her grandaughter entered her room in the 
 morning to see if she was ready for breakfast and found her just reaching 
 for her cap, almost ready to join the family. After a few minutes, as she 
 did not appear, they went to see what detained her and saw her lying 
 across the bed, dead. She was born September 25, 1788, and died 
 December 28, 1869. 
 
 " No stream from its source 
 Flows onward, how lonely soever its course, 
 But that some land is gladdened. No star ever rose 
 And set without influence somewhere. No life 
 Can be pure in its purpose and strong in its strife. 
 And all life not be purer and stronger thereby." 
 
 Jemima Doan Bainter was born in Wayne county, Indiana, March 8, 
 1816. She was the oldest daughter of John and Charlotte Doan who were 
 natives of North and South Carolina. When about eighteen years of age 
 she moved with her parents to Berrian county, Michigan. In the spring 
 of 1836, she came with her father and two brothers, James and Gibson, 
 and James' bride, to Lee county, Illinois, then known as Jo Davis county. 
 They came in a large wagon drawn by three yoke of oxen, as there were 
 no railroads in those days; and twenty-one days were spent in this journey 
 of two hundred miles. They passed through Chicago, a dirty, muddy, 
 little trading post, with no attraction for the home seekers, who were 
 bound for Palestine Grove, where their ideal of a perfect farm was to 
 be with timber and prairie adjoining it. 
 
 The greatest hardship of the journey was in crossing the first seven 
 miles of country directly west of Chicago. The ground was mostly cov- 
 ered with water from six to eighteen inches deep, and the weary travelers 
 were obliged to wade through to lighten the load for the poor tired oxen. 
 When the sun wentdown they were only part way across. After turning 
 the oxen loose to care for themselves as best they could, they ate a cold 
 supper and slept in the wagon. There were no roads and many times 
 all the things had to be taken out to get the empty wagon through the 
 sloughs and across the bridgeless creeks. When the roads were good she 
 sometimes would ride, but she walked most of the way. No wonder she 
 
 — 48 — 
 
was delighted with the beautiful sight of what was to be her new home. 
 She and Susan, her brother James' wife, had secretly planned that, no 
 matter how the place looked, they would say they were pleased; so glad 
 would they be to end that long tedious journey. James had visited 
 the place in October, 1885 and selected his own, as well as a claim for his 
 father, and anoter for his brothes Joseph. The day of their arrival was 
 May 13, 1886. After making a shanty and getting tlie early seeding done, 
 she with her father and Gib.son, returned to Michigan to bring the 
 remaining part of the family to the newly prepared home, leaving 
 James and his young wife here to wecome them back in the following 
 autumn. 
 
 The 3rd of May 1838, she was maaried to Andrew Bainter, from Mich- 
 igan, a brother of James' wife. This was the first wedding in this part 
 of the country and was attended-by a great many, and was a merry time. 
 Mr. Frank Ingals and his sister, Deborah, who afterwards married Dr. E,. 
 F. Adams. Mr. Wasson's family Mr. Sawyer's and a number from Inlet 
 Grove were present. The young people enjoyed it so well they kept the 
 games going until the i)reak of day. In the following fall they com- 
 menced housekeeping in a small liewed log house which Mr. Bainter had 
 built with no tools except axe and hammer. This was the third house 
 built in this section. The floors, as in all the others, were hewed out of 
 logs. Tliey called them puncheons. It was situated near a little creek 
 called Willow Branch, on a claim, there being no land in market at that 
 time. Here she spun and wove for themselves and others, making beau- 
 tiful flannels, bed-spreads and blankets, table linen and towels; and as 
 her family grew, making all their winter clothing, sewing and knitting 
 by tlie light of a single candle, thinking it extravagant to burn more than 
 one at a time She delighted in fanciful paterns in weaving, and the 
 one piece of fancy work indulged in was netting, which adorned the cur- 
 tains around^the bed and across the one little window. As their living 
 was plain one migho think that good health would have been assured; 
 but this was not the case. They had fever and ague and many dsieases 
 common to a new country; and the young physician. Dr. R. F. Adams, 
 was kept busy, riding on horse-back many miles each day. 
 
 Chicago was the nearest market and a week or more was spent in taking 
 a load of produce to this place. A load of dressed hogs would be sold for 
 $1.25 a hundred, and oats for ten or Hfteen cents a bushel. Every one 
 who took a load must carry a lunch basket and live entirely on its con- 
 tents, or his expenses would exceed the price of his produce sold. One 
 man who indulged in a few luxuries had nothing to bring home but a 
 
 — 49 — 
 
calico gown for his wife; but he was an exception, as most of the early 
 settlers were economical. These trijjs were mostly made in the winter, 
 the women attending to the chores, and doing the best they could. When 
 the nine days had passed there was great uneasiness about the absent 
 ones and great would be the joy when the creaUing wheels in the cold 
 frost would be. liuard in ihe distance Sometimes the cause of delay 
 would be the death of a horse, and again a broken wheel, sometimes an 
 unusual storm. When the market at Peru and La Salle was opened, 
 they thought it only a small trip to go there with their produce. When 
 the I. C. R. R. was l)uill, and Amboy was located, it seemed like a new 
 era, as indeed it was, to tlie pioneers of so many years. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Bainter were members of the Methodist church for many years. Then 
 came the war— the cruel war. Tliey gave their oldest son to the country's 
 cause, and many parents can tell the anguish these few words contain. 
 
 After this they removed to Indiana, their one request being to have 
 their remains brought to Illint)is for burial. Andrew was the first to go. 
 He died March, 1884, and Jemima followed him in December of the same 
 year. Their graves are side by- side in the little cemetery at Bingham- 
 ton, near the place wiiere, when life was full of hope, they met, with 
 loving cheerfuuess the hardships of those early days. 
 
 LATER GLEANINGS. 
 
 Jemima was full of fun. Once when returnig from some gathering 
 at the "Inlet" with her brother James, his wife and a sister, they found 
 the creek risen so that they could not cross in the wagon; there was one 
 way to cross; .James could swim the horse and one girl at a time could 
 tuck up lier garments and by riding on her knees behind James and hold- 
 ing on to him, cross high and dry in safety. Jemima watched the droll 
 spectacle and laughed until she cried. The ring of her jolly ha! ha! used 
 to make the woods echo with her glee, and reach ears too far off to know 
 the cause of it. 
 
 Another time, slie with lier l)roLiier James, wife and sister, strolled out 
 in the grove on one of the long Sunday afternoons, and forgetting the 
 distance from home, found themselves obliged to cross a branch of the 
 creek where the water was several feet deep. So the girls had to do just 
 as anybody would -wade in, carrying their shoes and stockings. So they 
 had a little drama all to themselves on that quiet Sunday; but Jemima's 
 laugh reached the ears of her mother who was enjoying a solemn medita- 
 tive walk, somewhere on the other side of the stream; and good mother 
 Doan knew the laugh. One can imagine a gentle chiding with some of 
 Solomon's words as an accompaniment. 
 
 — 50 — 
 
Mrs. Cynthi.a Varner lived in the Doan neighborhood, near the lo^ 
 school-house, She was a widow with three small girls, at times depending 
 on the neighbors to keep the wolf from the door: yet ever ready to do all 
 she could for the sick and afflicted; her neighbors taking care of her 
 children when she could be of service to any one in trouble. Many of 
 them appreciating her usefulness and aware of her necessities, alwavs 
 left a sack of flour for her when returning from mill, and contributed 
 many other things. She was a "hardy pioneer," and a devout member 
 of the Methodist church often leading in prayer-meeting and other serv- 
 ices. Her greatest horror was heresy. One old settler writes: "I recol- 
 lect her rising in her seat at a meeting in the old log school-house when 
 Joe. Smith and Sidney Rigdon were present, and calling on God to smite 
 the "blasphemers." No mention is made whether any one else was dis- 
 turbed by them. Mrs. Varner died June, 1892, aged 82 years. 
 
 There is a Utile anecdote related by Dr. H — —.'of Minneapolis, with 
 regard to the capture of Black Hawk, which may not be out of place here 
 
 Dr. H said he had never seen it publislied, alLhough he could vouch 
 
 for its truthfulness, his home having been in the vicinity of the place 
 referred to in the story. 
 
 Lying between Appleton and Oshkosh, along the southern and western 
 side of Lake Winnebago, was a valuable tract of land included in what 
 was known as the Black Ilawk purchase of 1832. This land was given to 
 an Indian by the name of Juno, as part of the compensation for informa- 
 tion leading to the capture of Black Hawk. Juno was a confidential 
 
 friend of Black Hawk and had married into his fanjily— Dr H thought 
 
 was a brother-in-law of the warrior. He with his family continued to 
 occupy the laud long after his betrayed and defeated ctunrades had gone 
 in search of new homes beyond the Mississippi River. 
 
 On the first day of January, 18G4, the most terrible blizzard that liad 
 ever been known swept over the northwest, and, unlike others, was so 
 cold that mercury congealed. Juno had gone to Oshkosh; the storm 
 abated, but he did not return. His family (he had a large one), watched 
 in vain. The weeks lengthened into months and no tidings of Juno 
 reached. them. At last when spring came, and the warm sun and winds 
 melted the great banks of snow which had drifted around their dwelling, 
 his body was discovered lying prone in the path a few feet from the door 
 
 — 51 — 
 
of his home, where he had fallen, and over which his own children had 
 been wallcinj,' for many wecl<s. 
 
 .In Ford's History of Illitiois, nieiit.ion is made of "Tiirce Winiieha- 
 ^'oes," who "j,fave intelliirence that Hiack Hawk was encamped at Cran- 
 berry Lake." Doiil)tless further knowledi,'e of the whole transacti(jn 
 would reconcile the not altoj-^cther cotillictin>f narratives. 
 
rfi^sv B. Searfe-s. 
 
 MR. ASA B. SEAilLES was a native of Chenango county, New York, 
 and was born January 27, 1810. Later it) life he was for several 
 years in South Bainbridge, New York. He there attended aschool 
 which his brother taught, and had for a schoolmate Joseph Smith, the 
 future Mormon Prophet, whom he descril)ed as being kind-hearted and 
 possessed of much brain, which was supported by a large, strong body. 
 
 At the age of nineteen years he was engaged in piloting on the Susque- 
 hanna River. He then became acquainted with those who were afterward 
 some of our most noted pioneers. He cotitinued in business on the river 
 for six years. On the 19th of September. 18."i2, he was married to Miss 
 Patience Stockwell, of Bainbridge. On the 19th of August, 18.37, he left 
 there for Palestine Grove with a two-horse teani, in company with thir- 
 teen others. He arrived here October lltii, and for a while lived in the 
 cabin which James Hawley began: but soon entered land and ujoved to the 
 farm still owned by his children in Bitighamton, near where the Tile 
 Factory now is. It was he who laid out Hinghampton and named it for 
 the town by that name in New York. He erected a liotel and was the 
 first postmaster here. His son Lemuel has favored us with tlie docu- 
 ment which has the seal of the postoffice department stamped upot) it, 
 and the signature of the Postmaster General, John M. Niles. The name 
 of Winooski was given to thf Palestine Grove postoffice. It is the Indian 
 name for Onion River. The document reads thus: 
 
 'John M. Niles, Postjiasteh Geneual 
 OF THE United States ok America, 
 
 'To ALL WHO shall SEE THESE PRESENTS. GREETING." 
 
 "Whereas, On the 28th day of May, 1840, Asa B. Searles was appointed 
 postmaster at Winooski, in the county of Lee, State of Hlinois; and 
 whereas he did, on the 22nd day of June, 1840, execute a l»ond, and has 
 taken the Oath of Oltice, as required by Law; Now Know Ye, That 
 confiding in the integrity, ability, and punctuality of the said Asa li. 
 Searles, I do commission hint, a Postmaster, authorized to execute the duties 
 of that office at Winooski aforesaid, according to the Laws of the United 
 States, iind the Regidations of tlie Postoffice Department; To Hold the said 
 
 — 53 — 
 
office of postmaster, with all the powers, privileges and emoluments, to 
 the same belonging, during the pleasure of the Postmaster General of the 
 United States. 
 
 "In Testimony Whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, and caused 
 the Seal of the Postoffice Department to be affixed, at Washington 
 City, the 30th day of July, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight 
 hundred and forty, and of the Independence of the United States the 
 Sixty-fifth." John M. NiLES." 
 
 The mail was carried through once a week by a man on horse-back, 
 who had been a soldier in the Black Hawk war. 
 
 The remains of the old log building in which the mail was distributed 
 was standing a few yeaas ago. After Mr. Searles resigned, Mr. Warren 
 Badger succeeded him. Mr. Searles was the first assessor of Amboy. 
 His wife died December 19, 1846, and was the first one buried in the cem- 
 etery at Binghampton. She was a sister of Mrs. Alvan Thompson and of 
 Mrs. Leapha M. Palmer, who afterwards married John Dexter. She was 
 an excellent wou)an, who enjoyed the sincere respect of all. 
 
 Six years afterwards Mr. Searles married Miss Amanda Headlee, who 
 had five sons. The oldest, Lemuel, served his country under Gen. Custer, 
 in the 7th U. S. Calvary. Mr. Searles was possessed of excellent qualities, 
 and was untiring in his efforts for the prosperity and increase of the set- 
 tlement in its early days. The city park was once a part of liis estate. 
 
ELIZABETH WASSON. 
 
MRS. ELIZABETH HALE, wife of Benjamin Wasson, was a daugh- 
 ter of Isaac and Elizabeth (Lewis) Hale, who emigrated from Ver 
 montto Pennsylvania in 1790. A letter from her daughter Clara — 
 Mrs. Backensto — which gives an accountof theemigration of the Wasson 
 family to Illinois, together with a few incidents of their snl)sequent his- 
 tory, seemsa tlLting introduction to our sketch of Mrs. Benjamin Wasson. 
 
 FROM MUS. BACKENSTO TO HEli NIECE, MKS. PERKINS. 
 
 "I regret the history you speak of was not written during my mother's 
 lifetime, as her memory was so much better than mine. Those trying 
 times made a more vivid impression on her mind. I was too young. 
 
 "My father, Benjamin Wasson, and his family, consisting of his wife 
 Elizabeth, three sons, Lorenzo, Harmon and Warren, two daughters, 
 Clara and Roxy, started from Harpersville, Boone county, New York, some 
 time in the latter part of August, 1836; his destination Knoxville. Illi- 
 nois; his outfit, two teams and wagons, one a large covered wagon for 
 goods. He expected to go through Ohio, but the second day out he heard 
 that the Black Swamp, in Ohio, was impassable, so he crossed into Can- 
 ada, at Lewistown, passing through Detroit and Chicago, down the Illi- 
 nois River to Peoria, and fron) tlience to Farmington, where he found an 
 old neighbor from New York, Mi. Samuel Johnst)n, jr., who was just 
 ready to move his family to Dixon, Illinois, having his goods packed and 
 waiting for the teams which did not come: so father unpacked our goods 
 from the wagons into the log-cabin vacated by Mr. Johnson, packed Mr. 
 Johnson's goods and family into our wagons and leaving us in the log- 
 cabin took Lorenzo and accompanied Mr. Johnson to Dixon's Ferry, as it 
 was then called. So you see we found a home, such as it was, at the end 
 of our long journey of six weeks. Father drove one of the teams for Mr. 
 Johnson and the journey proved to be a longer and more tedious one than 
 they expected, both for teams and drivers. Mr. Johnson, who was a 
 shoemaker, had some sides of sole-leather with him, and these they were 
 obliged to spread down as bridges for the teams to pass over the quick- 
 sand swamps. Thev could never have completed the journey had it not 
 been for them. 
 
 — 57 — 
 
"Your grandfather was so charmed with the country in the vicinity of 
 what is now Aniboy, that he concluded to locate claims for himself and 
 two oldest sons, and did so on what is now the old homestead. 
 
 "He then returned to Farmington and found us settled. Harmon had 
 dug potatoes on shares until he had enough to last us through the 
 winter; also by husking corn, had bought some pigs; so father concluded 
 to stay there a year, so as to raise provisif)ns to last until he could get 
 started in the new place, as the country was so unsettled that it was im- 
 possible to get provisions. 
 
 "In the winter, he and Harmon and Lorenzo went to what was then 
 Palestine Grove, where they cut the logs for the "Old Log Cabin," and 
 with the assistance of John Dexter, John Doan and his two sons, James 
 and Joseph, rolled them up and put the roof on, after which they returned 
 to Farmington. 
 
 "The next summer, in August, after the crops were attended to, he and 
 the boys went back to Palestine to get out rails and fence a small piece 
 of ground, make hay, build a stable, break prairie and sow some wheat, 
 taking Clara (myself) along to cook and keep house for them. For six 
 weeks I lived in that lonely cabin on the wide prairie (I was but fourteen 
 then), and many a scare I had. The last day and night we were there, 
 father and the boys went to the timber, cut some logs and hauled them 
 to Rocky Ford, where there was a saw-mill, run by Meek, I think, and 
 had them sawed into boards, from which they made our floor — the first 
 floor made of sawed boards in that country, the others being made of 
 puncheon, that is, logs split into strips. They did not get home until 
 ten o'clock at night. The next morning they laid the floor, after which 
 we started for home in the afternoon. It was about ninety miles from 
 Amboy to Farmington. My father made several journeys between the 
 two places and we moved to our new home in December, 1837, a cold, 
 cheerless wind and snow in our faces most of the way. 
 
 "Father used to have to go to Peoria to get his grain ground into flour. 
 The last journey he made was in the winter; he expected to get back be- 
 fore we got out of bread, but before he got home there came up a furious 
 storm of snow and wind, drifting it into hollows and sloughs so they 
 became impassable. Father reached Greenfield, now LaMoille, late in 
 the day, and notwithstanding that it was dangerous to cross the prairie 
 during the storm, he had been delayed so long he feared we were in need, 
 so he resolved to push on. He did, but was obliged to go before the horses 
 and beat a track for them through the hollows. He reached Thomas 
 Fessendcn's late at night completely tired out. He stayed there the 
 
 '- 58 — 
 
remainder of the night and reached home the next morning, just as 
 mother was making the last corn-meal into a Johnny cake. 
 
 "Mother always kept a beacon light burning in the little north window 
 of the old cabin, so that if any person was wandering on that vfide prai- 
 rie it would guide them to a shelter. 
 
 "In about three years father built a frame house, Uncle Jesse Hale, 
 from Pennsylvania, occupying the log house. Father brought the lumber 
 for the new house from Chicago across the country, ninety miles. 
 
 "In the spring of ISIQ, father went to California. He died on the way 
 back, of congestive chills— never reached home." 
 
 So here, in the winter of 1837, the Wasson family took possession of 
 their new home with its one small window, and that toward the north- 
 but how much light and cheer and comfort flowed forth from that cabin 
 as the years went by, it needs a mighty pen to tell. 
 
 Little Clara, fourteen years old, had been the first to consecrate it to 
 home. Her light footsteps had sounded on the puncheons which would fly 
 up at one end when she trod on the other. She had acted the woman's 
 part in preparing the food and in "keeping house" for her father and 
 brothers, she had roamed about the prairie in their absence, gathering 
 grapes and plums, often calling on Mrs. Dexter, who loaned her books, 
 among others, the "History of the Reformation," which she read through. 
 She had staid alone when father and brothers were belated, from being 
 detained at the saw-mill, and in the darkness had hidden, trembling In 
 the covered wagon, listening to the howling wolves, and not daring to 
 enter the cabin lest some dreadful creature might be lurking in a corner. 
 She did not then know of the "Banditti." Was it the fore-shadowing of 
 their dark deeds which even then filled her with terror? But, at last, 
 she heard the welcome sound of the coming wagon with the boards for 
 the floor, which were laid the next morning, and in the afternoon they 
 were all on their way to Farmington. This was in September, and in 
 December all the family returned, the trip requiring two days. The first 
 night they stopped at a Mr. Bond's, the next at Mr. Doan's. 
 
 In Mrs. Backensto's letter we see what wise and prudent forethought 
 had been displayed by Mr and Mrs. Wasson, in making ample provision 
 for the winter by improving the opportunities, both here and at Farming- 
 ton. Hence they were prepared to make themselves comfortable and to 
 do good to all whom Providence might lead in their way. They seemed 
 never to think of their own comfort or convenience, either physically or 
 financially, when they could assist others in this new and sparsely settled 
 country. From the time of Mrs, Wasson's coming she always endeavored 
 
 — 59 — 
 
to keep a light in the only window at night, especially on dark and stormy 
 nights, so if there were any belated travelers wandering on the prairie it 
 would guide them to a shelter; and any who came received the warmest 
 welcome and the best the house afforded. The light could sometimes be 
 seen for miles, to the old Chicago road. 
 
 Mrs. VVasson was a ministering angel in sickness. During a long 
 season of ill healtli she had studied medical works, and in this country, 
 where doctors and nurses were not to be had, such knowledge proved to 
 be itivalu;il)le. She would often leave, her bed on dark, tempestuous 
 nights and ride luiles toattetid upon thesutl'ering where her ministrations 
 were most successful. There was a strength and self-possession in her 
 character which invited the confidence of the sick: there was a firm, 
 sedate, yet cheerful kindness which carried a most salutary influence into 
 the chamber of sickness. She was above medium height, straight and 
 strong, with a commandin<<- presence. Her coujplexion was fair, her eyes 
 blue, and her hair a soft brown. No one could have doubted her straight- 
 ftM'ward, uncompromising integrity. It came to be a saying, "Mrs. VVas- 
 son can do anything for everybody," and her husband kindly lent her 
 liis aid. 
 
 Not very long after their coming, a death occurred about two miles 
 away. A family by the tuime of Abbott lost a little daughter; there was 
 no lumber to be had for a coftin, so Mr. Wasson took the remains of an 
 India'i canoe, made of a blacl< walnut log which one of tin; boys found on 
 the prairie, partly consumed by tire, and made a pretty casket for the 
 little one. 
 
 Whenever a wandering missionary came along, as they sometimesdid, 
 Mr. Wasson would send one of his soiison horseback to notify the settlers 
 that there would be Divine service at his house. Mrs. Wasson would set 
 the cabin in order and every one who could come would do so. 
 
 We have seen h(>vv ready Mr. Wasson was to assist his wife in her use- 
 fulness, and there are many like instances remembered. Twelve years 
 after their settlement here the excitement caused by the California gold 
 mines induced him, in company with his youngest son, to try his fortune 
 there. Tliey proceeded to Nauvoo, and after resting at Mrs. Smith's, Mrs. 
 Wasson's sister, crossed the river into the then trackless west. After long 
 and anxious waiting, the sad tidings of Mr. Wasson's death, which oc- 
 curred in Februaiy, 1S,")1, reached his family; and ISIrs. Wasson was 
 dest^ined to walk the restof Life's pathway in theshadows. To her might 
 have been dedicated the following lines, so literally did she seem to 
 realize them in her life: 
 
 — 60 — 
 
"Arise my friend, and go about 
 
 Thy darkened house with choorlul feet; 
 Yield not one jot to fear nor doulit, 
 
 But baffled, broken, still repeat; 
 
 'Tis mine to work, and not to win; 
 
 The soul must wait to have her wing-; 
 Even time is but a landmark in 
 
 The great eternity of things. 
 
 Arise and all thy tasks fulfill. 
 
 And as thy day thy strength shall be; • 
 Were there no power beyond tlie ill, 
 
 The ill could not have come to thee. 
 
 Though cloud and storm encompass thee. 
 
 Be not afflicted nor afraid : 
 Tliou knowest the shadow could not be 
 
 Were there no sini beyond the xliade." 
 
 » 
 
 She continued her active life, canyiiig on the farm and "j^oing about 
 doing good." She had joined with Mrs. Col Badger, Mrs. DeVVoIfe and 
 others in sustaining worship in the form she most loved, while she could, 
 but when that failed she worshifjped in the Methodist Episcopal church. 
 With her social nature she entered into the work of that society, held 
 socials at her house and assisted in every way. When Mr. Broaduax 
 was here, and the Episcopal church again held seivice, she attended it. 
 Iler son, Harmon, h;id studied me(ii(;ine and was pra(!ticing here. He 
 often spol<e of the great assistance his mother's experience and advice 
 had been to him. 
 
 Mrs. Wassrm had three brctthers who settled in this county; Jesse, 
 David and Alva Hale; also a sister, Mrs. Trial Morse, who was killed in 
 a tornado in the summer of 1859. At the same time her oldest daughter, 
 Emma, was so badly injured that she died after two weeks of intense 
 suffering, having nearly every l)one in her body Ijroken. Mrs. Morse was 
 killed almost instantly, being caught in the whirl and transHxed through 
 the abdomen with a fence-stake. When Mrs. Wasson was nittitled of the 
 calamity, she hastened to the dreadful scene. With stdtiy face and tear- 
 less eyes, she looked upon the wreck of her sister and niece— she could 
 not weep. She said it wf»uld do her goctd if she could, but she had passed 
 through so ruuch trouble she was beyond it. She consoled herself with 
 the reflection that her sister had ''gone home to her God in whom she 
 had always trusted and was better off." 
 
 — 61 — 
 
"We make the least ado o'or greatest troubles, 
 
 Our very anguish does our anguish drown: 
 The sea forms only just a few faint bubbles 
 
 Of stifled breathing, when a ship goes down." 
 
 Mrs. Wasson continued to live on the old place until near the end of 
 1863, when to the hardships of'pioneer life and numerous added aflflctions 
 her health gave vs'ay and the old home was broken up. She went to live 
 with her youngest child, Carrie, who married Rev. Erastus DeWolfe, and 
 went home to her reward, May 18, 1874. 
 
 The older children, Lorenzo D. Wasson, Dr. Harmon Wasson and'Roxy 
 Emma, who became Mrs. Simon Badger, all died at Amboy, in the prime 
 of life, and Mrs. DeWolfe is now numbered with the departed oaes. Mrs. 
 Clara M. Backensto is at Fort Logan, Colorado, and Mr. Warren Wasson 
 is at Carson City, Nevada. Mr. Arthur P. Wasson, son of Lorenzo D., 
 owns and lives on the old farm and has sons and daughters. The remain- 
 ing grandchildren and great-grandchildren are scattered from New York 
 to Colorado and Nevada. 
 
 The old "Wasson house" has gone to decay and disappeared. Until 
 within a few years, the two-story, weather-beaten mansion which con- 
 tained the first floor of sawed boards in the place, and which had held a 
 welcome for all who sought its hospitable doors for so many years, stood 
 dark against the sky, a landmark indeed, and for some years unoccupied. 
 How often have been recalled to passers by some of the lines of "The De- 
 serted House." 
 
 "Gloom is upon thy lone hearth 
 
 O silent house! once filled with mirth; 
 Sorrow is in the breezy sound 
 
 Of thy tall poplars whispering round. 
 
 The shadow of departed hours 
 
 Hangs dim upon thine early flowers; 
 Even in thy sunshine seems to brood 
 
 Something more deep than soUtude. 
 
TI4e Bfair Farr^ifv. 
 
 JAMES BLAIR came here in the spring of 1838, and located a claim 
 justwestof Rocky Ford, where his son, Edwin M. Blair, now resides- 
 Here he built a log cabin, broke prairie and prepared for his family; 
 boarding, a part of the time, before they came, at Mr. Dexter's. The 
 next Spring, Mrs. Blair, with her two youngest children, sons, came the 
 long tedious journey from Jamestown, New York, via. Pittsburgh, Penn- 
 sylvania, down the Alleghany River and the Ohio to St. Louis, up the 
 Mississippi to the mouth of the Illinois River, and up the Illinois to 
 Peru; and from thence by wagon to this place. 
 
 In June, Mr. E. Blair, with a brother and two sisters, traveled the 
 same route, and atlength reached the new home in the "far distant west." 
 So the whole family were here with the exception of the oldest son, 
 James, who followed in 1846. 
 
 It is hard to conceive what must have been their feelings on reaching 
 this wilderness, after having lived in a place like Jamestown, a village 
 on the outlet of Chautauqua Lake, where the boats plied up and down, 
 and where there was a tine water-power forextensive business; good soci- 
 ety and many advantages to leave with regret. Some of the sketches of 
 pioneer life which have preceeded this, have depicted the trials to which 
 the family were soon to be introduced. Fever and ague and billions dif- 
 ficulties were prevalent, and often there were not well ones enough to 
 care for the sick. Mrs. Biair possessed the heavenly gift of knowing just 
 what to do to relieve the suffering and in some cases which called for the 
 greatest skill, she was the means of their restoration to health. 
 
 At one time Mrs. Wasson was ill and weak and unable for a long time 
 to perform her accustomed duties. Mrs. Blair visited her frequently and 
 once recomended her to make an infusion of timothy hay and to drink 
 it freely, having known a similar case cured by that means. Mrs. Was- 
 son followed her advice and was very soon benefitted by doing so. Many 
 instances of Mrs. Blair's usefulness and neighborly kindness and success- 
 ful treatment of alarming maladies are related. Sickness came to her 
 
 — (53 — 
 
own family and she h-id need herself, of the ministrations of her friends; 
 and she was not without them, indeed, instances of reciprocal ]<indness 
 warm from the heart, of noble forgetl'ulness of self, unshrinkint^ firmness, 
 calm endurance, and sometimes reckless bravery are so often brought to 
 lij^ht in searching out these incidents of pioneer life, that the faith in 
 human nature wliich only happy cliildliood knows comes back, and '"a 
 lit?ht that never was on land or sea" glimmers through the mist. 
 
 Mrs. Blair was a quiet home-woman. Iler oldest children were daugh- 
 ters who married and left home early, leaving her with a large share of 
 household labor to perform; yet she had cast her "bread upon the waters," 
 and in due season it returned to lier. 
 
 One cold winter night wlien the i)rairie was covered with snow and ice, 
 she was taken very sick. So alarming was her illness that it seemed im- 
 possible for her to live until morning. Her son Edwin went for Mrs. 
 Hook; she was at home alone with her three little children, her husband 
 having gone on one of those pioneer journeys. When she heard how Mrs. 
 Blair needed her, she thought at first, that she could not leave her child- 
 ren; but she had taught them filial obedience in her cheerful, loving 
 decided vvay, and she knew she could trust them. So she awakened her 
 oldest daughter and told where she was going, and, covering the three 
 together in the warm bed, gave directions for them to stay there until 
 she returned, and she would come as early in tlie morning as she could. 
 She started witli Edwin straight across the prairie, for there were no 
 roads or fences then. She found it so very slippery that it would take a 
 long time for her to get there— no rubbers in those days — so she sat down 
 and took off her shoes and went in her stockings, that no time might be 
 lost. Eortunately her stockings were thick woolen ones, of her own knit- 
 ting. She, too, was one who knew just what todo in sickness and trouble, 
 and her prompt assistance brought relief to Mrs. Blair; and Mrs. Hook 
 returned home in the morning to lind her cliildren safe where she had 
 left them. 
 
 It would be gratifying to Mrs. lilair's children and desceudents to hear 
 all the kind and respectful words tliat are spoken of her by those who 
 have known her all these years, and the tender and appreciative things said 
 of her by her daughter-in-law, Mrs. E. M.Blair. Her last sickness was ex- 
 ceedingly distressing, the result of a fall, and after lingering many weeks 
 and receiving the loving care of her son and family she went Home: 
 
 Mr. James Blair was born at Blanford, Connecticut, June 3, 1788. 
 Mrs. Fanny (Hamilton) Blair, was born at Worcester, Massachusetts, 
 February 15, 1792. They were married about 1814, at Stockbridge, Oneida 
 
 - 64 — 
 
county, New York. They had eight children. One son died in childhood. 
 The others were James il., Winthrop II., Edwin M., William W. and 
 Charles L., and two daughters, Elmiiia and Caroline. 
 
 James R. came to Illinois in 1846, and died .March 18, 1857. Charles 
 L., the youngest, was drowned September .'}, 1850. Elmina Jane, died 
 March 10, 185.3, at East Grove, Bureau County, Illinois. Mr. James Blair 
 died at Amboy, Illinois, June 12, 1851. Mrs. Blair, his widow, died at 
 the same place, January 17, 1881. 
 
 There are at this time, 1893, three sons and onedaughter living: E. M. 
 Blair, who lives on the old homestead, two and a half miles southwest of 
 Amboy, W. W. and W.II. Blair, of Lamoni, Decatur county, Iowa, and 
 Mrs. Caroline Kimball, of Neilsville Clark county, Wisconsin. 
 
 KEMIXISCENCES OF MR. EDWIN M. BLAIR. 
 
 One Autumn Mr. Blair went to Chicago with a load of wheat, drawn 
 by three yoke of oxen. It usually required about nine days to accomplish 
 the trip, with mercy to the oxen. At that season of the year it was the 
 custom to camp out on the way, and also to carry ones' own provisions as 
 far as possible in order to have anything left from the money received for 
 the produce. One place of encampment was at Desplaines, about twelve 
 nnles this side of Chicago. It was in a large grove, the trees not too close 
 to render the place aught l)ut a delightful camping ground. There were 
 gathered there over a hundred and fifty teams, on the way, either to or 
 from Chicago. There was one man who came from Knox county, with an 
 ox team, who had kept up with his companions who came with horses, 
 all the distance. The way he accomplished tlie feat was by breaking his 
 encampment an hour or two earlier in the morning than his companions 
 did, traveling later in the evening, or until he overtook them. On this 
 morning, when Mr. Blair was present, this man yoked up his team and 
 got under way about three o'clock in the morning. He appeared to be a 
 happy man, for as he proceeded on his way singing, the morning air bore 
 back the words he sang: 
 
 "O how happy are they 
 
 Who their Savior ob(!y. 
 
 And have laid up their treasures above: 
 
 Tongue can never express 
 
 The sweet comfort and peace 
 
 Of a soul in its earliest love." 
 
 In the winter of 18—, Mr. Heman Mead started from his home, adjoin- 
 ing what is now the County Farm, in Eldena, for Pine Creek mill, near 
 
 — 65 — 
 
Mt. Morris, with a load of grain, crossing Rock River at Dixon, on the 
 ice. He reached the mill in safety, had his grist ground and was on his 
 way home, reaching Dixon about ten or eleven o'clock in the evening. 
 He drove onto the ice, following the track over which he had passed in 
 the morning. When in about the middle of the river, in the current of 
 the stream, his horses broke through the ice, and horses, wagon and grain 
 were drawn under. Mr. Mead had the presence of mind to throw his arms 
 out over the ice, and having on a thick coat, the ice held him, freezing on- 
 to the coat-sleeves. He shouted for help. For a long time his calls 
 reached no ones ears. At last, some travelers who stopped at the Phoenix 
 hotel, which was near the river, were shown by the clerk to their room, 
 which, providetitially, had a window which was not quite closed. As 
 they were preparing for bed one of them said he was sure he heard some 
 one calling as if in distress. On going to the window to open it to listen, 
 he found it partly open, whicli fortunate fact allowed the call to be heard 
 by him. They immediately descended to the office and a party of them 
 started toward the river in the direction of the sound. On arriving 
 where Mr. Mead was, they found it would not be safe to venture further 
 without returning to the house and getting boards with which they could 
 reach and rescue him. He was tal<en to the hotel and everything was 
 done for his comfort. In the morning the good people of Dixon contrib- 
 uted money enough to buy him another wagon, a pair of horses and a 
 load of grain, and as tliere was some money left it was given him, and he 
 was sent on home rejoicing. It makes one feel like breaking forth into 
 singing the anthem of the angels of Bethlehem whea hearing of such 
 things 
 
 Mr. Blair relates an incident in which his father was the actor. He 
 had been to Wilson's mill on the Elkhorn, about thirty-two miles north- 
 west of here, and was on his return home. He crossed the river at Dixon 
 and came out on the Peoria road. It was in the evening and he lost his 
 way. After traveling a long time, and it appeared as if he was coming 
 back to where he had been, his oxen were getting too tired to go farther. 
 He had no way to judge what direction to go, for the night was dark; so 
 he moved his Hour to the other end of the wagon and prepared to wait 
 until daybreak. It was in December and he was suffering with the cold. 
 Fortunately his dog went with him and taking him under the blankets 
 which he had, he waited until dawn, the warmth of the dog keeping him 
 from freezing. With the first light he espied the grove in the distant 
 horizon and lost no time in reaching home. 
 
 — 66 — 
 
■■' L 
 
Mr. Blair describes the ruins of Indian lodges which were in ihe vicin- 
 ity of his farm, in two or three different places; also the manner of dis- 
 posing of the remains of the dead. The body of one Indian was standing 
 tied to a tree and a f(!nce was built around it higher than the head; the 
 rails fastened close together as if to afford careful protection from incau- 
 tiuus intrusion. This was quite near to the ruined lodges. Mr. Blair has 
 seen two similar sepulchers of the Indian dead, in his journeyings in 
 Northern Illinois. 
 
 Mr. Blair, on one occasion, took ten barrels of Hour from Grand Detour 
 to Peru, from which place it was to be shipped; crossing the river about 
 three miles north of Dixon. It was in the latter part of May or ilrst of 
 June. On the way he got "sloughed" three times, each time having all 
 the barrels to unload arul reload. At one i)]ace his horse and heavily 
 laden wagon sank so deeply in tlie mire that they were extracted with 
 great difficulty. He was alone and it was evening. Usually two or more 
 teams went in company to avoid su<-,h solitary disasters. Mr. Blair 
 waded in and unfastened his horses fronj the wagon and led them out, 
 and then started off to find hell). He readied a house and found no one 
 at home liut the children; liut witii tlieir knowledge he took a wagon and 
 with that returned to the slougii He wheeled it near the other wagon 
 anil alone lifted live liarrels into it, attached his horses to it and drew it 
 out, unloaded and repeated the work for the otiier live barrels, and so 
 finally drew the mired wagon out, all the time tiierain coining down. 
 
 At another time, he with his iirother-in-law, Mr. Abbott, took a load 
 of wheat to mill in Grand Detour. It was in Decemlu-r and wheat suilic- 
 ient for the winter was to l)e ground, lest the mills should freeze up so 
 that grinding would he impossible. They started in the morning with 
 oxen, and reached their destination about live o'clock in the afternoon, 
 there to find many waiting with grists which would re(iuire three days 
 work. The river was frozen partly over, but chaining the oxen to the 
 cart, they left them, and managed to get the grain over the ice to where 
 a kind of wharf was built out to reach the ice, making a way to get the 
 grain to the mill. But what could they do? There were no houses 
 within several miles, and to wait three days seemed impossible. Soap- 
 pealing to the kind hearted miller and telling him how far they were 
 from home, he told them that if they would have tlie grain at hand and 
 
 — 69 — 
 
would wait until after all the others were asleep, he would grind theirs 
 so that they could get away. About nine o'clock all were asleep and their 
 grist was soon in the mill. A young nuin from Mt. Morris was there 
 with a team on that side of the river, with whom Mr. Blair had formed 
 some acquaintance that afternoon while waiting. He ventured to awake 
 him and ask him to help them with the flour over the river, or out to the 
 ice where they could transfer it to their wagons. He good naturedly con- 
 sented and when the task was accomplished he refused to receive any 
 compensation for his night's labor; Mr. Blair promising to return the 
 favor if he ever had an opportunity. 
 
 It was nearly or quite midnight when they started for home. They 
 suffered extremely with the cold, especially Mr. Abbott, Mr. Blair taking 
 care to exercise all he could. They arrived at Mr. Hannum's ''hay-house" 
 about five o'clock the next morning, when Mrs. Hannum prepared them 
 a nice breakfast, and thus they were able to reach home in the morn- 
 ing, greatly to the surprise and delight of the family. 
 
 The summer of 1844 was one unusally wet and the stream at Eocky 
 Ford overflowed its banks, washing away the south part of the bridge, 
 over which the stage from (xalena to Peoria (afterward from Galena to 
 Peru) used to pass, stopping at Mr. Hook's. When the mail wagon ar- 
 rived, the crossing was accomplished by swimming the horses over and 
 taking the mail and passengers, if there were any, across in a boat, bor- 
 rowing another wagon for the remainder of the route, and on the return 
 trip crossing the same way, leaving tlie borrowed wagon and taking the 
 mail wagon again on the other side of the streauj. It was ditticuli to 
 build a bridge at that time, the facilities for the heavy work required 
 t)eing unobtainable; so the bridge could not, at once, be repaired. 
 
 It is not strange that in the quietude of these prairie homes, any unus- 
 ual event like the rising of the river, and the destruction of the bridge 
 should attract the neighbors to the scene; and here, on this day to which 
 the story refers, were gathered Mr. John Hook, wife, baby and mother, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael and child, who lived in a cabin near the Ford, 
 and the stage-driver; some of them quite eager to take a trip in the boat 
 across the water. Standing on the north part of the bridge which had 
 withstood the flood, were Mr, Edwin Jilair, and his brother, who had 
 comedown to view the swollen river and the destruction caused by the 
 flood. Mr. Blair saw, with fear, the partv get into the boat and remon- 
 strated with Mr. Hook; but Mr. Hook's perfect confidence in the ability 
 of his mother, who could control a canoe while standing in it, made him 
 
blind to the danger. All ventured aboard, Mr. Hook remaining on the 
 bridge with Mr. Blair and brother to see the departure of the pleasure 
 seekers. Mr. Hook's mother, a tall women, standing in the center of the 
 boat, Mrs. Hook and baby and Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael and child, and 
 the stage-driver, all in the boat. It sped from the shore, but immediately 
 commenced careening and in another moment capsized, all sinking in the 
 water. Mr. Hook was too much alarmed to know what to do, but Mr. 
 Blair, whose presence of mind is proof in cases of danger, with his brother, 
 rushed to their assistance; snatching a long stick as he ran to aid in help- 
 ing them to shore. While Mr. Blair waded in to reach out the pole to 
 them, he kept hold of his brother's hand, his brother holding on to the 
 bushes in the water, tor the current was so swift and strong that it would 
 have been useless to venture in unaided. With great difficulty they were 
 drawn out, Mr Carmichael reaching the stick with one hand and holding 
 to the women and children with the other. Mrs. Hook was unconscious 
 when brought to shore, but through all had never relaxed her bold upon 
 the little girl who was clasped tightly in her mother's arms all safe and 
 uninjured. Mrs. Carmichael and child were brought safe to shore. Mr. 
 Hook's mother and the stage-driver were drawn by the strong, rapid cur- 
 rent further down the river, and it was not. without courageous efforts 
 that they were rescued, while Mr. Hook was trying to restore his wife. 
 
 The little one was Mrs. Hook's third daughter, who married William 
 Livingstone and lived near Jacob Doan's. 
 
 Those who came in later years, to whom many of these landmarks are 
 without associations, can hardly realize how much they suggest to the 
 pioneer, to whom, like the "Bells of Shandon," they must tell "many a 
 tale" of "youth and hope" and the departed days. 
 
 Mrs. Clara (Frisbee) Davis, widow of Josiah M. Davis, related some 
 very interesting incidents relative to her early life here. She was a little 
 girl of only seven years at that time, but she well remembered the journey 
 and her father's horses, old Tom and Jerry, and just how they looked. 
 Her father, Sylvester Frisbee, came fromApulia, New York, in company 
 with Ransom Barnes, in 1838. They came in covered wagons, bringing 
 what goods they could with them, Mr. Frisbee going back for the rest 
 afterwards. Little Clara, for rest and amusement, would ride a part of 
 the time with Mr. Barnes and then go back to her father's wagon. The 
 route was the old Chicago road, and Mr.Tripp kept the tavern at "Iniet." 
 They went to Hannum's hotel, called "The Temperance House." When 
 
 — 71 — 
 
people who ask where the "bar" was, Mr. Hannuiu replied, "that there 
 was no bar, but plenty of good cold water and tea and coffee." Benoni 
 Hannuni was a most excellent and useful man, always ready to do good 
 as he had opportunity, and he found many opportunities. lie was a true 
 christian and gifted in the use of language, consequently he was called 
 upon to lead religious services at funerals and on other occasions, in the 
 absence of ministers, lie had previously learned the cabinet maker's 
 trade and as he was a very kind man, he would sometimes, in cases of 
 death, make the cotfin and take all the charge of the funeral. 
 
 Of Mrs. Hannum, whose likeness is in this book, Mrs. Davis said: 
 "She was such a good woman, a lovely christian day by day, always 
 ready to do good and lend a helping hand whenever an opportunity pre- 
 sented itself. She believed, as the Lord prospered one, in laying aside a 
 tenth for Him, and she kept a purse for the Lord's money; so, when 
 there was a worthy object she had something ready to give. She had 
 learned the milliner's trade l)efoie coming here, and she used to make 
 over atid trim botniets for women and girls around 1 remember so well 
 of her making ofie for Mrs. Dexter. Mrs. Hannum's home was a model 
 of neatness and comfort. Once inside the sod or "hay-house" one forgot 
 its huml)le exterior. Mr. Edwin M. lilair tells of tiie comfort and good 
 cheer received by him and his bnttiier-in-law, Mr. Abbott, on one occasion 
 when on a cold return trip from Grand Detour where they had l)een to 
 mill. It was very early in the morning of a December day, but so 
 kindly were he and his companion provided for that the mention of the 
 sod house t)r "hay-house," of Mr. Hannum, has ever since awakened a 
 train of pleasant recollections, notwithstanding t.lie trip was one of great 
 discomfort. 
 
 Mr. Hannum died in 18.j1. The next ve;ir Mis. Frisl)ee died, and two 
 years after Mr. Frisbee married Mrs. Hannum. Of her step-mother, Mrs. 
 Davis said: "I always felt that I was highly favored in having two 
 such dear, good mothers. I was a great mother girl and my mother was 
 a very affectionate, devoted mother, so amiable and sweet-tempered, and 
 a sweet singer, too, and a good christian; and my father was also." 
 
 Dr. Gardner was our family physician. I have very pleasant recollec- 
 tions of him and his wife. They lived three miles from us, but with the 
 exception of one family, they were our nearest neighbors for a long time. 
 My sister and I were delighted when Mrs. Gardner was coming, for she 
 was such a dear, sweet lady, and her babies were always so sweet and 
 pretty, we had great pleasure in tending them. We had great confidence 
 in Dr. Gardner, who carried us through some very dangerous illnesses; and 
 
 — 72 — 
 
MRS. HANNUM-FRISBEE. 
 
CLARA FRISBEE. 
 
 (MUS. JOSIAH DAVIS.) 
 
he was a christian. 1 reineinber heariiijf my lather say it was worth a 
 threat deal to "have a physician that was a christian." 
 
 Miss Clara Frisbee was married to Josiah M. Davis, son of Joel Davis, 
 in 1849, Rev. Luke Ilitciicock performing the ceremony. (Joel Davis was 
 a l)rother of Cyrus Davis and of Mrs. P"'arwell. He came west in 1848.) 
 Mr. Joel Davis and his son erected a frame liouse on a farm just west of 
 the city limits. It was not finished during Joel Davis' life time, as he 
 lived l)ut a short time. Josiah went to California and was gone several 
 years, his wife remaining with his friends here during his absence. After 
 his return lie finished the house wliich his father had commenced, with 
 much taste. He planted trees, shrubs and rose-hushes. At the eastern 
 entrance of the grounds was a l)road gate, the upper part surmounted l)y 
 a real hird-ca,stlc, of several stories height. There were trees at each side 
 of tiie gate, and it looked so liospitable and delightful that it seemed to 
 speak for the inmates of the retreat and say, as it gleamed white in the 
 shade of the trees: 
 
 "Stop, traveler, just a moment at my gate 
 
 And I will give you news so very sweet 
 
 That you will thank me. Where the brandies meet 
 Across your road, and droop, as with the weight 
 
 Ot shadows laid upon them, v)ause, I pray. 
 
 And turn aside a little from your way.' 
 Once insid(! the large inclosure, everything told of rest and loving 
 peace. The veranda from which one could see the birds flying about 
 thuir houses— for there were others besides the one over the great gate- 
 way — looked out over the green fields with waving grain or corn; and an- 
 other gate, a "wicket-gate," opened to the road which passed the house on 
 tlie west from the I\ocky Ford road to Uni<tn Coriu'rs. Mr. Davis ruimed 
 the place •'Summer Hill Farm." lie is remembered lor his cheerful, 
 sunny, kind tiature and social disposition: and when in early manhood he 
 passed away, leaving his devoted young wife and twochildren, there were 
 many to bold him in affectionate retnembrance, and to cherish an abiding 
 interest in his family. 
 
 Mrs. Davis remained at Summer Hill Farm until the best interests of 
 her children seemed to favor achange. when with rare judgement and gen- 
 tle firmness she parted with her "sweet home." and went toCiiicago. where 
 she educated them to nobly fill their places in life. Her son, Millard, 
 has a family, and a l)eautiful home of his own, and is a prosperous mer- 
 chant in Chicago. Her daughter Lizzie niarried llev. Mr. Pears<>. a Con- 
 gregatiotialist minister and is settled in Turner, Illinois. Mrs. Davis 
 made her home with Mrs. Pearse, and was deeply interested in all the 
 
 — 77 — 
 
duties which devolve upon a pastor's family up to the time of her sickness 
 and death, which occurred the last of April this present year. 
 
 Mr, William Main now owns and occupies "Summer Hill Farm." 
 
 Curtis T. Bridgeman came here in 1838, and bought a claim of 1(50 
 acres of James Hawley, for $700. It was the finest piece of timber in 
 Palestine Grove, mostly white and burr-oak. Mr. B. sold $300 worth for the 
 old I.e. R. R., which was projected justafter the closeof the Black-Hawk 
 war, in 1833, and was laid out and partly built in 1837, but abandoned in 
 the financial revolution of ISIO. The line is yet visible west of Rocky 
 Ford. Mr. Bridgeman's claim is known as the Blunt farm, although now 
 owned by William E. Ives. It was the favorite camping ground of the 
 Indians, with its large trees and its contiguity to Green River. Here, 
 sometimes hundreds of them encamped, led by their chief, Shabbona. 
 
 Mr. Bridgeman lived on this claim five years, when he sold it and 
 moved to Crombie Lane, and took up 160 acres of land, now the farms of 
 Adam Myoard and Hiram Bates. Part of the building Mr. Bridgeman 
 lived in is standing on the Bates farm and is used as a corn-crib. It was 
 eighteen feet long and ten feet wide. This was their sleeping room. On 
 the side was an addition made mostly of sod. 
 
 In the fall of 1843, the weather had been mild and balmy as the "sun- 
 ny south," and no precautions had been taken to bank-up the house which 
 was only an unfinished frame building. One evening about the middle 
 of November there was a light fall of snow. In the morning the family 
 awoke to find the snow a foot deep in their sod kitchen, and it had to he 
 shoveled out before they could get breakfast. From this time until 
 spring the ground was covered with snow to a great depth and there were 
 no signs of spring until the middle of April. The weather was bitterly 
 cold nearly every day that winter. Mr. Bridgeman made a trip to Inlet 
 Grove and got out timber for a new house that was made into lumber at 
 Dewey's Mill. A building was erected which was considered quite a 
 structure for those days, but the family never moved into it. Mr. Bridge- 
 man sold his claim to David Searles and moved to the farm now owned 
 and occupied by Mr. G. P. Finch. That was the suburb of the settlement 
 then. All beyond was unbroken prairie to Rock River. 
 
 Mrs. Bridgeman was a lovely woman, and highly esteemed in the com- 
 munity. She was the mother of our townsman, Mr. Cyrus Bridgeman. 
 She reared a family whose lives are an honor to her. 
 
 — 78 — 
 
Frederick Bainter, with his wife and one child, came from South 
 Bend, Indiana, to this place in the fall of 1838. In the spring of 1839 he 
 built a log house on the place now known as the John Warinck farm, 
 where he farmed for several years, and then turned his attention to 
 blacksmithing and making plows, erecting a blacksmith shop on his farm. 
 In the spring of 184«) the house burned down, and he moved to the little 
 burg of Binghampton, where he, with James Uoan, built up quite an in- 
 dustry at the stand now known as Kreiter's Mills. Many of the people 
 will remember the improveuents there made in the old style plow which 
 he furnished to a great many farmers of Lee, Bureau, La Salleand other 
 counties. It was at their home that Death made the tirst call in this 
 neighborhood, taking their sweet baby boy Franklin. After a number of 
 years they moved to Goshen, Ind., and later, to California, where Mr. 
 Bainter died in 1875. His wife, who was always his helper and adviser, 
 with the remainder of her family, are still spending their days in that 
 most noted of beautiful countries. 
 
 Mr. Cyrus Davis came here in 1839 from Newlpswich, N. H. On Jan- 
 uary 30Lh, 1823, he married Miss Mary Appleton, of Dublin, N. H., fifth 
 child of Isaac and Sarah (Twitchell) Appleton. Mr. Joseph Appleton, 
 who was one of the early settlers here, was the oldest child of her brother 
 Joseph. Mr. Davis was a Ijrother of Mrs. Farweli. His farm was upon 
 the site which is now a part of the city of Amboy, and was bounded on 
 the north by the road now running past "the Hawk's house," now owned 
 by William Armour, and past Mr. Rush Badger's; on the east, by the 
 creek crossing Main street, by Wm. E. Ives and south by Division street. 
 His log house was a few feet east of the Baptist Church on Mason street, 
 in what is now the middle of the street. Ills l)arn was where the ISaptist 
 Church stands, and his orchard just north. 
 
 A little anecdote is told of Mr. Davis' attempt to mark where the 
 regular road ought to be. He plowed a few furrows for the line of the 
 road. The next morning as he "viewed the landscape o'er" he looked in 
 vain for his turnpike. Some of the roguish young men had carefully 
 turned all the sod back in place. Mr. Davis stood and looked at the joke 
 a few minutes and walked silently away. 
 
 In 1845 he built a convenient frame house, the tlrst of the kind in the 
 place. It is one of the "old landmarks" and is among the illustrations. 
 After the streets of Amboy were laid out, it was moved a few rods east 
 and now stands directly opposite the Baptist Church. The little child 
 sitting on the door step in thepictureisagrandsonof Col. John. B. Wyman. 
 
 — 81 — 
 
Tfie B8y.3ger PaiT2-lf^. 
 
 CHESTER S. BADGER tirst came to the country from Broome 
 County, New York, in 1837, stopping in Joliet, Illinois. In the fall 
 of the same year he returned to Chemung County, New York, and 
 in the spring of J838 he came back to Illinois, accompanied by his son 
 Simon; and in the spring of 1839 Warren came with mother and two sis- 
 ters, Sarah and Ilowena. They came by the Lakes through Cliicago to 
 Lee County and "landed on the site" now occupied by his grandson, Duer 
 Badger. 
 
 In 1840, Chester, son of Chester S., then but eighteen years old, drove 
 a team from Broome County, New York, through Lo this place, where he 
 found parents, brothert^and sisters. Tlie meeting, though joyous, was 
 not without sadness. There was such a contrast between the pleasant 
 home and the social life which they had left, and the pioneer life with 
 its privations and hardships to which they had come, that even after all 
 the years which have intervened it seems painful to Mr. Badger to recall 
 the meeting. 
 
 The house was a small, story and a half frame hcuise, without lath or 
 plaster. It had warped and shrunk so tliat although the family covered 
 interstices the best they could, the northwest winds would drive in the 
 snow until it not only covered the floor but the beds also. In coldest 
 weather, to use Mr. Badger's own words, "We used to hang up three bed- 
 blankets, or quilts around the tire and enjoy ourselves sitting inside and 
 eating crab-apples, as we had no other kind of fruit." For our fencing, 
 we drew logs a distance of three miles and split them into rails and then 
 made fence. The Pottawattomie Indians, of whom Shabbona was their 
 chief, roamed at will through here and encamped near Green River. 
 Game was plentiful. I have seen forty deer going to drink in the creek. 
 More rabbits than a strong man could carry away could be taken in a 
 short time and but a short distance from home; and fish also, could be 
 caught in abundance, each weighing from four pounds to some times 
 much heavier weight." 
 
 — 82 — 
 
~y ^^atiz. & Co - <.n/- 
 
 BADGER'S MILL. 
 
In 1837 a man from New Jersey by name of Erastus De Wolfe, an 
 Episcopalian minister, came into the country. lie lived about half way 
 between here and Dixon, on land now i^nown as the De Wolfe farm, and 
 preached in the Wasson school house. Mrs. De Wolfe organized a Sun- 
 day School, commencing with six little girls, two of her own, two of Mrs. 
 Wasson's, and two of Mrs. Badger's. This was in ISio. 
 
 Sarah Badger, the older sister, taught school in Sugar Grove at $1.50 
 per week and had luxuries— pumpkin pie and crab apple sauce. Jlowena 
 taught in the old log school house, and afterwards near Mr. De Wolfe's 
 place, and also near Grand Detour. 
 
 The Badger family have been useful members of society. Mrs. Bad- 
 ger is remembered with respect and love. She was a quiet, retiring 
 woman of much reflnement, and her sons and daughters have filled many 
 places of usefulness in Amboy. Her daughters were among the earliest 
 teachers, and her sons, Henry, Simon, Chester and Warren, have all con- 
 tributed to Amboy's prosperity. The brothers engaged in the manufac- 
 ture of plows and also built a mill, afterwards rebuilding it into a steam 
 mill. Warren died in the prime of life, Simon in 187(i, leaving one son, 
 Mr. Rush Badger, and three daughters. He filled various oflice.s of trust 
 in the town, having been justice of the peace sixteen years previous to 
 his death. Chester enlisted in the Eleventh Illinois Volunteers, and 
 served in the Mexican war under Gen. Sterling Price. He afterwards 
 went overland to California in company with his l)rother Simon. He has 
 been a prominent man here, serving the town in many ways. He can 
 remember numberless interesting events connected with the county 
 which would have been worthy of record. He lives in retirement on his 
 farm, which has been his home .since lirst coming to this country in 1840. 
 He has three children. 
 
 Henry E. Badger was one of the early teachers here. He was. with 
 his brothers, engaged in the manufacture of plows, and also in the mill 
 known as the Badger Mill; has been supervi.sor, road commissioner, 
 school trustee, postmaster, merchant and farmer. During the war he was 
 most loyal, giving liberally to the Union cause. No soldier's widow or 
 family who applied to him for aid was ever sent away unsupplied. No 
 one has given more generously to support every good cause. His life has 
 been embellished by a most excellent wife, who has filled her place at 
 home, in church and in society with a devotion to be remembered grate- 
 fully by many long after she can fill it no more. Mr. Badger has two 
 daughters and one son living, Mr. Warren Badger; a prominent merchant 
 here. 
 
 - So — 
 
John Hook and wife, Mrs. Matilda (Berry) Hooic, came to Rocky Ford 
 in the fall of 1839. They were natives of Howland, Maine, a town on the 
 Penobscot River. They came in covered wagons, each drawn by two 
 horses, Mr. Berry, a brother of Mrs. Hook, and others accompanying them. 
 
 After reaching Buffalo, New York, and learning that travellers 
 through Ohio encountered many marshy and difficult places of crossing, 
 they took passage to Detroit on the steamer Milwaukee, and from there 
 pursued their journey with wagons to Peru, where they resided until they 
 came here. 
 
 Mrs. Hook's narrative of the incidents of their trip is intensely inter- 
 esting. Many were the kindnesses they received on the way, when they 
 encamped near settlements and farm houses; many the invitations to rest 
 and lodge under some one's roof-tree, while additions to their store of 
 food were smilingly given. To hear her recount the story of her life in 
 her cheerful and pleasant way, one would think that " the hardships of 
 pioneer life" were but a series of pleasure excursions and encampments 
 for the sake of the enjoyment of them. It would be hardly safe to have 
 the story in her own words, even were it possible to remember them, 
 least some young readers might be missing some day, to be found as 
 young Daniel Boone was surprised by his father— trying pioneer life on 
 his own hook — somewhere beyond the Rockies. 
 
 Her house at Rocky Ford was for years an Inn, where the weary might 
 And rest and the hungry, food, although it bore no sign. As stated above, 
 it was the mail carrier's stopping place on his route from Galena to 
 Peoria, afterwards changed to Peru. Travelers would seek lodging for 
 the night inside their hospitable dojrs to be safe from the wolves, and 
 they were not turned away, though a place on the floor were the only 
 vacancy. 
 
 Men whose names, in after years were widely known have been served 
 here, and Knowlton and Frazier on their passing from Dixon to Peoria 
 or returning, were frequent lodgers, and often Sheriff Campbell was their 
 guest. Here young Backensto alighted and made his toilet when 
 first he visited Amboy to present himself before the queen of his 
 heart. Miss Clara Wasson, whom he had met at the house of her aunt 
 Mrs. Joseph Smith of Nauvoo. 
 
 Our illustration of the bridge at Rocky Ford marks the place near 
 which the Indian trail from Council Bluffs to Chicago crossed the ford; 
 and in the time of the Black Hawk war, the command under Major Still- 
 man forded the stream at this point on their way to Stillman's Run. 
 
 — 86 — 
 
H. E. BADGER. 
 
MRS. H. E. BADGER. 
 
In 1842 it was the mail route, and the carrier made the trip every week 
 on horse bac]< without failure stopping at John Hook's Monday nights as 
 he went north, and Friday nights going south. A few years afterwards 
 the post office was removed to Binghampton. 
 
 The site on the ridge where Mr. Hook built his house, was on an old 
 Indian camping ground on the trail which crossed at the ford. The 
 Indians came frequently and in large numbers, on their way to and from 
 Chicago to receive their annuities. When they found their old camping- 
 ground occupied they withdrew to the wooded knoll south of the place 
 owned by Mr. Bear, and east of Mr. Edwin Bliss. Mrs. Hook relates how 
 the Indians rode up on horse back and surveyed their old place of en- 
 campment, and finding it occupied, rode away, and selected the site 
 already described. They would frequently remain for a month, hunting 
 and fishing; for deer, prairie-chickens, rabbits, etc. were abundant. 
 
 Before breaking camp to pursue their journey, they would prepare for 
 it by roasting pieces of venison which they would put on the point of a 
 stick, and keep it over the fire by confining the other end of the stick 
 slantwise in the ground. After it was broiled and smoked in this way, it 
 was packed for the journey. They appeared to enjoy a call from their 
 white neighbors. Once when Mrs. Hook went to call on them in their 
 tents, a pleasant young half-breed Indian, whose father was a French- 
 man, of Milwaukee, where the young man and his brother who was with 
 him had been educated, begged to take her fair haired, blue eyed baby to 
 show to his people in the tents, promising to return it soon in safety. 
 This was the first trip the young men had ever taken with their mother's 
 people, and the parents were both with the company. The little one was 
 not afraid and the young man carried it tenderly to frhe other tents where 
 the women patted the baby's arms and cheeks and smiled upon it, as did 
 the young man. He soon brought it back, pleasantly, the baby enjoying 
 it all. His father's name was Juneau. His mother was a famous medi- 
 cine squaw and used to be called to go twenty miles to cure the sick. 
 
 Mrs. Hook used sometimes to carry them presents of milk and other 
 food, taking a pail of milk and a dipper and so treating the Indian chil- 
 dren all around. In return the mothers would treat with berries, or a drink 
 made of maple sugar which they had made mixed with fresh water from 
 the creek. They were frequent callers at Mrs. Hook's house where they 
 received such favors as she could render them. Once as she was sitting 
 at home, a shadow darkened the room, and on looking up she saw a tall 
 Indian standing in the door, attracted there by the odor of something 
 which was being cooked. He entered and raised the cover of the kettle, 
 
 — 91 — 
 
asking many questions about it. It was a turtle from wliich tliey were 
 extracting tiie oil, and wiien told ttiat it was for medicinal purposes, hie 
 was much interested. The Indians gathered many herbs, and roots 
 which they washed and put up carefully to talce away with them. Once, 
 when two or three Indians called and asked for something to eat, Mrs. 
 Hook sent out to them by her husband, bread, meat, etc., on separate 
 plates for each, with knives and forks, just te see how they would use 
 them. They good-naturedly lard them aside and taking the meat in their 
 tlngers and saying, "this is the way Indian eat" they ate it in their own 
 way. 
 
 Mr. Hook's family had been accustomed to Indians, for on the Penob- 
 scot River in Maine there have always been many of them; some beau- 
 tiful specimens of their work in baskets and moccasins finding the way 
 around the country, and often being for sale. Mrs. Hook seems to have 
 had an unusually happy faculty in dealing with them. If some cf our 
 Indian agents (in the frontier might learn something from her, it would 
 be a happy thing for both Uncle Sam's red and white children. 
 
 The first school-house was built in 1839. It was a log house not far 
 from where Seneca Strickland now lives. Mrs. Strickland, daughter of 
 Andrew Bainter, remembers the log threshold over which she climbed 
 when she ran away to school at the age of two or three years. This 
 school-house had three windows, with twelve panes of glass in each, six 
 by eight inches, and they were put in sidewise. Long benches were 
 placed on three sides, with a broad board back of them, fastened to the 
 wall l>y a support from the under side, which served as desks for the 
 children to lay their books on, as well as to write upon. Near the long, 
 high benches were two or three smaller ones for the youngest children. 
 Here they sat, holding their books in their hands while they spelled b-a, 
 ba; c-a, ca; d-a, da; etc. A blackboard was unknown to these little pio- 
 neers, neither were there maps or charts; only the rough, dark logs and 
 the small, low windows; yet they were happy and faithful, and to obey 
 the teacher was one rule seldom broken. One of the first lessons the new 
 teacher always gave to all, both large and small, was the first part of ihe 
 spelling-book. To the small ones the great puzzle was to tell diphthongs 
 and triphthongs, interrogations and exclamations; but if they could close 
 the book and say the words, all was well. The teachers, in those days, 
 were thorough; for example, tliere were two little girls not five years old, 
 who had to stand on the floor and study their lessons because they had 
 misspelled "chintz" and "stiltz," almost breaking their hearts. 
 
 — 92 — 
 

 CLARA WASSON. 
 
 C MBS. BACKENSTO.) 
 
The first teacher was Miss Clara Wasson, greatly heloved by her pu- 
 pils. Here afterwards taught Miss Lucy Ann Church, Charlotte Doan, 
 the Misses Badger and Wasson, Ann Chadwick, and "a long line of dis- 
 tinguished" teachers whose names we have not been able to obtain. Miss 
 Clara Wasson, now Mrs. Backensto, writes, "I now remember my little 
 school with great pleasure. Although quite inexperienced myself, the 
 dear little people thought me a perfect teacher, which shows how inex- 
 perienced the most of them were, having never attended school before. 
 They were so quiet and obedient that the little ground squirrels would 
 come into the school-room to eat the scattered crumbs." 
 
 Mrs. Backensto relates another incident. "Just after the Dexter chil- 
 dren had started home from school they came rimning back to me saying 
 that Thomas had been bitten by a rattlesnake. We soon found the snake 
 and with a long switch whipped it to death, as this is the surest and 
 easiest way to dispose of those venomous reptiles. Andrew Bainter tied 
 his whip-lash tightly around the leg, just above tlie wound. I soon found 
 some Seneca snake root, and gathering a qnantity, bruised some between 
 two stones and bound it with my handkerchief on to the wounded foot 
 a«d took him, witli a quantity of the snake-root, home to his mother, in- 
 structing her to steep some of it in milk and give him to drink, and to 
 bind some fresh root on the wound, which she did; and much to my sur- 
 prise and satisfaction the next morning he came to scIjooI just a little 
 lame, and soon recovered entirely. What a blessed Providence to provide 
 an antidote for that deadly poison within our reach; and thanks to my 
 mother's instructions, 1 knew just what to do " 
 
 There must be niany iriteresting reminiscences connected with this 
 school-house were there time and opportunity to collect them from those 
 who participated in them. Later, when the larger log school-house was 
 built between Col. Badger's and Mr. Wasson's, the old log house was 
 moved farther east, near to the Lewis farm, and the new school-house 
 was the usual place for preaching; but for some years it remained where 
 it was first located and was the place for religious services as well as 
 spelling-schools, singing-school, etc. Previous to the building of this, in 
 the winter of 1837-8, religious services were held in the cabins. We hear 
 of a iSIr. Vincent, a relative of the eminent eastern divine, Rev. Dr. Vin- 
 cent, preaching at Mr. Bridgeman's cabin. Messrs. Luniery, Smith, Gor- 
 bitt, White and others at the Doan and other cabins. Mr. Stinson and 
 other lay preackers and Ptev. Erastus De Wolfe at the Dexter cabin: also 
 at Mr. Benjamin Wasson's. The meetings were often on week days, the 
 men leaving their labor to worship at this Shekinah in the wilderness; 
 
 — 95 — 
 
coming in tlieir carts or wagons, drawn by oxen or horses; often following 
 the Indian trails through thickets of wild fruit trees and groves of oak, 
 all converging toward the creek and vicinity of the old encampments. 
 
 Rev. Mr. Farney preached the first sermon in the old log school-house; 
 afterwards, Revs. Luke Hitchcock, John Cross, Charles Gardner and 
 others supplied. At one of Mr. Gardner's meetings he had for an auditor 
 Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonism. Mr. Gardner invited him to 
 close the services with prayer, which he did. He and Sidney Rigdon 
 held meetings there, afterwards, and Smith had followers here who speak 
 of him now with a look of reverence and sorrow as "The Martyred Proph- 
 et." They have always been good and upright members of the community, 
 cherishing no sympathy with Brigham Young, whom they consider as 
 one who "defied the laws of God and man." 
 
 The old school-house was of use to all in the settlement. Some of the 
 stories told of the spelling-schools held there are most amusing. Old and 
 young attended, and one bright little girl of six years, who was a good 
 speller, so interested Simon Badger that he managed to keep near enough 
 behind her to whisper assistance when a particularly "hard word" came 
 to her. Once when she was chosen on the other side she went with anx- 
 iety at the loss of her gallant assistant, but it was not long before he had 
 changed seats and she found he was at hand. 
 
 Emma Hale, the sister of Elizabeth Wasson, was born in the town of 
 Harmony, Susquehanna county, Pennsylvania, July 10, 1804. Her par. 
 ents, Mr. Isaac and Mrs. Elizabeth (Lewis) Hale, were pioneers of a self- 
 reliant race, brave, honest, of unshaken fidelity and unquestioned integ- 
 rity. She grew to womanhood amid the rural scenes, labors and recrea- 
 tions incident to farm life oa the banks of the Susquehanna River. She 
 was a good horse-woman, and a canoe on the river was her plaything. 
 She was a fair scholar for the common schools of the time, and a good 
 singer and possessed of a fine voice. She was of excellent form, straight 
 and above medium height, features strongly marked, hair and eyes brown, 
 while her general intelligence and fearless integrity, united with her 
 kindness of heart and splendid physical developments commanded both 
 admiration and respect. 
 
 In 1825 Miss Hale became acquainted with Joseph Smith, celebrated 
 in the history of the religions of the United States, as the founder of 
 "Mormonism," "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints," to 
 whom she was married in the town of South Bainbridge, New York, at 
 the residence of 'Squire Tarbell, January 18, 1827. Mrs. Smith lived in 
 
 — 96 — 
 
the family of her husliaticrs parents, at Manchester, New York, until 
 December, wlien the}' moved Lu llarmotiy, Pennsylvania, and settled near 
 her father's farm. 
 
 In Septetnber of this year, Mr. Smith hec;ime possessed of the plates 
 from which he is said to have written the ''UooU of Mormon." These 
 plates Mr. Smith had during their residence in their home near Isaac 
 Hale, and of them Mrs. Smith slates: 
 
 •• 1 Unew tliat he had them. 1 mnde a linen sack for Mr. Smith to 
 carry thetn in. 'JMiey lay on a stand in my room, day after day, for weeks 
 at a time, and 1 ofr.en moved them in cleaning tlie room and dusting the 
 tal)le. They were of metal, and when thumbed, as onesometimes thumbs 
 the leaves of a ixiok, would give off a metallic sound." 
 
 A gentleman, now a resident of Amboy, who was, three or four years 
 ago in business in Binghampton, New York, gives an interesting account 
 of a visit which he made while there to Harnjony township, Pennsylva- 
 nia, where the plates were said, by Mr. Smith to have been found. The 
 historic spot is on the summit of a high hill not far from the Susque- 
 hanna river, and is still visited as a place of interest. Tne stones which 
 formed the foundatiotis of the derrick used, still surround the deep exca- 
 vation, which, although partially filled, by the caving in of the earth, is 
 some eighty-five feet deep. A Mr. Benson, whose farm joins the land 
 once owned by Isaac Hale, Mrs. Smith's father, and who was familiar 
 with the early history of both the H;ile and Smith families, was the 
 guide and instructor of our informant. Smith was about a year in reach- 
 ing the depth of a hundred or more feet, where he claimed the Angel 
 Meroni had made known to him the plates were to be found. He, with 
 some of his friends, would work at the place nntil the money gave out, 
 when the work n)ust wait until more means to carry it on were obtained. 
 One enthusiastic follower spent his farm and beggared himself in the 
 search for the hidden treasure. Some people thought Smith insane, but 
 his ])reaching drew to him crowds of followers. 
 
 In February. 1829, Mrs. Smith became an amanuensis to her husband, 
 and from his dictation she wrote much of the celebrated iiook of Mor- 
 mon: and in this year it was completed and published in Palmyra. New 
 York, by E. B. Grandin. It was in this year that Oliver Cowdery joined 
 his fortune and influence with the new religious movement begun by 
 Joseph Smith. 
 
 The persecutions which followed now compelled a removal from Har- 
 mony, and in August, 1830, the family moved to Fayette. Seneca county. 
 New York. From there, in January, 1831, they went to Kirtland, Ohio, 
 
 — 97 — 
 
where Newel K. Whitney, one of the leading men in the Mormon society, 
 befriended them. The siclcriess incidental to a new country prevailed, 
 and Mr. and Mrs. Smith having' lost their first child, adopted a little boy 
 and girl, twin children of Mrs. John Murdoclc, who died, the father con- 
 senting. September, 1831, they moved to Iliram, Portage county, Ohio, 
 thirty-flve miles south-east of Kirtland. The converts to Mr. Smith's 
 preaching were constantly arriving from all parts of the country, greatly 
 to the disturbance of antagonists to the Mormon religion, and in March, 
 1832, the most violent persecution followed. Mr Smith was dragged from 
 his bed, beaten into insensibility, tarred and feathered and left for dead. 
 A strange part of this experience was, that his spirit seemed to leave his 
 body, and that during the period of insensibility he consciously stood 
 over his own body, feeling no pain, but seeing and hearing all that trans- 
 pired. 
 
 When, after returning to consciousness, he managed to drag himself 
 bacl{ to his home, Mrs. Smith fainted at the sight; and the little adopted 
 boy, who took cold on that fearful night, died the next week. It was a 
 long time before Mrs. Smith recovered from the shock of all these accu- 
 mulated sorrows. The same night Sidney Rigdon was subjected to the 
 same treatment. 
 
 He now started on a mission to Missouri, Mis. Smith returning to 
 Kirtland and stopping with lier friends, the Whitneys. It is here that 
 Joseph Smith, now of Lamoni, Decatur county, Iowa, was born, Novem- 
 ber 6, 1832. 
 
 In April, 1838, the family moved to Missouri, in Caldwell county. Here 
 Mrs. Smith hoped for the quietude and peace for which she longed, but 
 great numbers of converts flocked to their leader. The people became 
 alarmed and violent persecutions which it is useless and painful to de- 
 tail followed. Accusations of every kind were made, and the extermina- 
 tion of the Mormons seeuied to be determined upon. The leaders, Joseph 
 and his brother Hiram Smith and others were imprisoned, and a sum- 
 mary death from shooting was expected by them. Mrs. Smith was now 
 left with her family of four children; her adopted daughter, her three 
 sons, the oldest six years old, the youngest live months, at the beginning 
 of winter, her husband in jail for his religion's sake, powerless to help 
 him. What could she do? She iiravely visited her husband in the jail, 
 taking her oldest son with her, and while she was permitted but a short 
 interview, she obtained permission to leave the child a guest of his man- 
 acled and fettered father, until the next day. 
 
 After making such arrangements for the safety of herself and child- 
 
 — 98 — 
 
ren as she could, Mrs. Smith left the home from which she had been 
 driven, and turned her steps toward Illinois. The winter shut in early, 
 and when the lleeiriK pilgrims reached the Mississippi River it was frozen 
 over and Mrs. Smith, weary, sad and heart-broken, crossed the mighty 
 river to Quincy, Illinois, on foot, carrying her two youngest children, 
 with the oldest boy and little girl clinging to her dress. She found a hos- 
 pitable welcome at the home of a famil}' by the name of Cleveland, where 
 she remained during the long winter, sad, but trusting, and in faithful 
 expectancy, waiting for her husband's relief and delivery from bonds. 
 When, at last, he was free, she welcomed him with a wife's rapture, and 
 was ready to begin again the life of devotion to his happiness as she had 
 ever been. 
 
 The little town of Commerce, in Hancock county, Illinois, at the 
 head of the Lower Rapids, had been chosen for a resting place for the 
 refugees, and the family reached it on May tenth. A celebrated river 
 pilot, by the name of Hugh White, owned a farm on which was a hewed 
 log house with a clap-board annex, which Mr. Smith bought, and into 
 which he moved his family. Yet, even here, Mrs. Smith knew not what 
 awaited her. All her married life had been such as to call forth the 
 strongest courage and fortitudeand faith of her soul, and in none of them 
 had she faltered. What she had and what she was, she had placed on the 
 altar of her devotions; and if God willed, she was content. 
 
 The seasons of 1839-40, were seasons of severe trials to the new settle- 
 ments. Fever incident to the new countries, the long exposure and cry- 
 ing want endured by many in their forced exodus from Missouri, the fogs 
 from the river and miasma from the swamps — all combined to make the 
 season sickly, and hundreds became victims, many of whom died. Mrs. 
 Smith realizing the weight of the general burden and the necessity of 
 proper nursing of the stricken people, opened her house for hospital ser- 
 vice. Numbers of the severe cases were removed to her home and placed 
 under her care. She, with her family of children, took shelter in a tent 
 in the dooryard, she, and her children under her direction, doing all that 
 they could to minister to the suffering. At one time she had ten of these 
 unfortunate people in her care, herself and oldest son being the only 
 nurses that were available, the boy doing little except to carry water 
 from the spring near the river's brink to quench the thirst and lave the 
 hands and faces of the fever tried souls. 
 
 During a great portion of this trying time, Mrs. Smith's husband was 
 at Washington, D. C, seeking to secure the intervention of the General 
 Government, to obtain an official and final examination of the difficulties 
 
 — 99 — 
 
between the Mortuons and their restless nei^'hhors, and security from the 
 Government in their rigiits. Mr. Van Biireti\ answer to their plea when 
 oi)taineci was, ••Gentlemen, your cause is jnst, i)Ut I can do nothint; for 
 you." Commerce was changed to Is'auvoo, llie postottice department recog- 
 nizing tlie change April 21. 1840. 
 
 On June 5, 1841, Joseph was again arrested, as a fugitive from justice, 
 by Slieriff Tht)mas King, and iai<en to Monmouth, Illinois, where the 
 case was tried before Judge Stephen A. Douglas, on June 8th. Orville 
 II. Browning, ot Quincy, Illinois, afterward Secretary of the Interior 
 under President Lincoln, appearing for the defence. Mr. Smith was dis- 
 charged, the judge giving expressions of indignation at the manner the 
 prisoner had been harrassed by his persecutors. 
 
 On May 6, 1842, Mr Smith was again arrested, t ried at Springfield, and 
 acquitted on proof of innocence. 
 
 From this time until aliout June, 1843, there was a season of rest af- 
 forded to the family, which Mrs. Smith was well prepared to enjoy. She 
 was chosen to preside over a society called '"The Female Relief Society," 
 formed of prominent women of the large and rapidly increasing city 
 (which had reached a population of 15,000), the object of the society being 
 to seek out cases of necessity, sickness and distress in the cit.y, to take 
 cognizance of and institute measures for their relief. 
 
 Mrs. Smitli was chosen to preside because of her well-known probity, 
 clearness of perception, experience and decision of character. This 
 position she held until after the death of her husband, and the dispersion 
 from Nauvoo took place. 
 
 Mr. Smith's father died in the fall of 1841. ami in the summer of 1842 
 his mother became a part of his family. Of Mrs. Smith's care of her 
 mother-in-law, that lady herself states: '•Soon after I took up my resi- 
 dence at her house I was taken very sick and was brought nigh unto death. 
 For tlve nights in succession Emma never left me, but stood at my bed- 
 sideall nightlong, at the end of which timeshe wasovercome with fatigue 
 and taken sick herself. Joseph then took her place and watched with me 
 the five succeeding nights as faithfully as Emma had done." From this 
 sickness Mr. Smith's mother soon rect)vered, but she remained an inmate 
 of the family until her son's death, after which, for soiiie two or three 
 years, she was cared for by her youngest daughter, Lucy Mill ken, and her 
 husband, when she returned to the home of Mrs. Smith, where she 
 remained until May, 1855, when, in the presence of Mrs. Smith, her grand- 
 son Joseph, and a neighbor, she passed into the great beyond. This aged 
 mother was confined to her bed, a sufferer from rheumatism, by which 
 
 — 100 — 
 
her feet, hands and arms were distorted and mishapen for many years, 
 during the greater part of which time she was provided for and talcen 
 care of at the home of Mrs. Smith, the widow of her son, Joseph. 
 
 On June 13, 1843. Mrs. Smith, with her husband and children, started 
 by carriage, at that time the only mode of traveling inland, to visit her 
 sister, Mrs. Elizabeth Wasson, the wife of Benjamin Wasson, living in 
 Amboy, Lee county, Illinois. On the same day Gov. Thomas Reynolds, 
 of Missouri, appointed Joseph H. Reynolds, sheriff of Jackson County' 
 Missouri, to proceed to Illinois with a new writ to operate with Harmon 
 T. Wilson, of Hancocic county, Illinois, in arresting Joseph Smith, on a 
 renewal of the same charge from which he had been discharged by a 
 competent court. These two men followed Mr. Smith to Mr. Wasson's 
 place, which they reached June 23rd, while the family were at dinner. 
 They professed to be elders of the church, and desired to see "Brother 
 Joseph Smith." When Mr. Smith appeared, in answer to the inquiry, 
 these men presented their pistols to his breast, at the same time seizing 
 him, but without stating their object, or showing a warrant or serving a 
 writ. Mr. Smith asked what the meaning of the arrest was. To this 
 Reynolds replied, with an oath at the beginning and end of the sentence, 
 •'Be still or I will shoot you." Wilson joined in this blasphemous threat- 
 ening, and both struck him with their weapons, and without attenjpiing 
 to serve any writ or presenting any process warranting the arrest, they 
 hurried him to a wagon near by, and would have taken their prisoner 
 away without hat or coat but for the interference of a friend, Stephen 
 Markham, who seized the horses by the bits and held them until Mrs. 
 Smith ran from the house with her husband's hat, coat and vest. 
 
 Here, as in Missouri, he was taken from the presence of his wife and 
 children without explanation and without opportunity to bid his agitated 
 and tearful wife good-bye. His captors hurried him to Dixon, where 
 they confined him in a room in a tavern, waiting the hitching up of fresh 
 horses. Mr. Smith's friend, Markham, had reached Dixon and under- 
 taken to secure legal services. Hearing of it Mr. Reynolds again threat- 
 ened to kill Mr. Smith, to which Mr, Smith replied: "Why make the 
 threat so often? If you want to shoot me, do, I am not afraid." When 
 Messrs. Shepard G. Patrick and Col. E. D. Southwick, whose services 
 Markham had secured, attempted to communicate with Mr. Smitli, Rey- 
 nolds and Wilson peremptorily refused them access to him. By this time 
 considerable excitement had been aroused in the town, and Col. John 
 Dixon, the founder of the town, put himself in the front of an inquiry as 
 to the facts of the arrest; and, learning that the sherilTs had shown no 
 
 — 101 — 
 
writ, or served any process, he became indignant and plainly notitled 
 Reynolds and Wilson, that it was possible such proceedings luight do for 
 Missouri, but that no man should be taken from the town of Dixon, with- 
 out proper process, or without an opportunity for legal counsel and 
 defense. 
 
 The sheriffs then allowed the attorneys to hold consultation with Mr. 
 Smith, declaring, however, that they would only allow one half hour for 
 the prisoner's benefit. So outrageous was the treatment of Mr. Smith, 
 by these self-appointed custodians, that the indignation of the citizens 
 of Dixon was roused to a high pitch; and but for the intervention of Col. 
 Dixon and the dispassionate appeals of Mr. Smith, himself, and his attor- 
 neys, Reynolds and Wilson, would have been lynched. During the ride 
 from Wasson's to Dixon, they had constantly thrust their pistols against 
 his side, with threats, until he was sadly bruised. As it was, however, 
 the demand for proper treatment, seconded by the firm attitude of Col. 
 Dixon and others, secured time to procure legal action. 
 
 Col. Dixon sent messengers to the Master in Chancery and to Attorney 
 Walker to come to Dixon at once, which they did. A writof habeascorpus 
 was issued and served by Sheriff Cami)bell, of Lee county, ordering that 
 Smith and his captors be brought before Judge Caton, then holding court 
 at Ottawa. Reynolds and Wilson were arrested for assault upon Smith, 
 and for false imprisonment. The party started for Ottawa, but stopped 
 for the night at Paw Paw, twenty-five miles on the way. Here the next 
 morning, many having learned of the arrest and the circumstances at- 
 tending it, gathered at the hotel, all anxious to see the "Prophet," and 
 to hear him preach. This would not suit Reynolds, who was fearful of 
 what the effect of a speech from his prisoner might be, so he shouted, "I 
 want you to understand that this man is my legal prisoner, and you must 
 disperse." 
 
 At this juncture, David Town, an elderly man, citizen of the place, 
 who was an influential man of affairs and carried a hickory staff, ap- 
 proached the irate sheriff from Missouri, and said to him with decided 
 emphasis, "Sit down there!" pointing to a seat, "and sit still. Don't 
 open your head till General Smith gets through talking. If you never 
 learned manners in Missouri, we'll teach you that gentlemen are not to 
 be imposed upon by a nigger driver. You cannot kidnap men here. There 
 is a committee in this grove that will sit on your case; and, sir, it is the 
 highest tribunal in the United States, as from it there is no appeal." 
 This speech caused the sheriff to remain quiet, and Smith talked to those 
 gathered for an hour and a half undistuibcd. 
 
 — 102 — 
 
It proved that Judge Caton had adjourned court, and was then on his 
 way to New York, so the party returned to Dixon. A new writ was issued 
 returnable to the nearest court. This was the court of Judge Douglas, 
 of Quincy; so the party started for that place, distant some two hundred 
 and fifty miles. At Fox River, seven of Smith's friends met the posse, 
 when Smith said to the sheriff: "I think I will not go to Missouri this 
 time." This was June 27th, four days after the enforced arrest, and as 
 yet, the sheriff had neither produced nor read a warrant, writ, or process, 
 by virtue of which they were trying to take a citizen of Illinois out 
 of the state with a hostile threat of evil treatment, if successful. 
 
 From this the party proceeded to Nauvoo in spite of the protests of 
 sheriffs Reynolds and Wilson, whom Sheriff Campbell had compelled to 
 give up their arms, because of the threats they had made. They reached 
 Nauvoo, the home of Smith, on June 30th, he having been all the time, 
 since the 23rd, in the custody of these sheriffs without legal writ. 
 
 As soon as Mr. Smith was arrested, Mrs. Smith determined to reach 
 her home as soon as she could. After ascertaining the course affairs were 
 likely to take at Dixon, under the vigorous regime of Col. Dixon, and 
 Attorneys Patrick and Southwick, Mrs. Smith started with her children 
 for Nauvoo, a young man named Loring Walker driving the team. She 
 reached home some three days i>efore the cavalcade accompanying her 
 husband, and when he and his captors. Sheriff Campbell and the posse 
 reached the city and her home, she was ready to receive them; and not- 
 withstanding there were many to partake at her board, all were amply 
 provided for and treated by her with every mark of kindness, hospitality 
 and respect. The executive ability and energy of Mrs. Smith are demon- 
 strated by the fact that at every stage of her husband's peace, prosperity, 
 peril and distress, she proved equal to the emergency and conducted the 
 affairs of his household, her station in society, and her pul)lic appearances, 
 in the calm dignity and conscious rectitude of splendid womanhood. In 
 August, 1843, she became landlady uf the Nauvoo Mansion, a hotel quite 
 noted during the last year of Mr. Smith's lifetime and for many years 
 after. 
 
 On June 12, 1844, Mr. Smith was again arrested and again dismissed. 
 June 24th Joseph Smith and his brother, Hiram, were again arrested on 
 the charge of treason. After consultation with Gov. Ford and others 
 who advised that they should put themselves into the hands of the civil 
 authorities to answer whatever charges migiit be made against them, 
 and upon express promise of the governor that they should have a fair 
 and impartial trial, Joseph and Hiram Smith did, on tiie 24ih of June, 
 
 — 103 — 
 
1844, proceed to Carthage and presented themselves before hini to be 
 taken into custody. At this interview with the governor he pledged his 
 own faith and that of the State of Illinois, that they should be protected 
 from violence, and have a fair and impartial trial. At dark that night 
 the constable appeared with a mittimus commanding him to commit Jo- 
 seph and Hiram Smith to jail on a charge of treason against the state, 
 issued by Justice Robert F. Smith. Appeal was made to the governor, 
 but he permitted them to be lodged in jail. 
 
 On the morning of the 26th, the governor, at 9:30 o'clock, visited the 
 prison and had a lengthy interview with Joseph and Hiram Smith, in 
 which he was fully informed of what had been done at Nauvoo, and upon 
 which action the charge of treason had been made, and that it was done 
 at the direction of the Governor himself. Governor Ford again gave his 
 pledge that these men should be protected from illegal harm. At 2:30 of 
 the same day, on June 26th, the Smith brothers were taken by Constable 
 Bettisworth before Justice R. F. Smith to answer for treason, and, on 
 proper showing the trial was adjourned until noon of the 27th, to allow 
 of getting witnesses from Nauvoo, eighteen miles distant. Afterwards, 
 without notice to defendants, the trial was pctstponed until the 29th, and 
 the prisoners were remanded to jail. 
 
 On the morning of the 27th, Governor Ford and his escort went to 
 Nauvoo. He had disbanded a portion of the state militia, but left the 
 Carthage Grays in charge of the place (Carthage) during his absence, a 
 detail from which body of troops had been stationed as guards at the 
 jail. 
 
 Threats had been made openly that the Smiths would not be permit- 
 ted to leave the town alive. These threats had been made in the hear- 
 ing of Governor Ford; one Alfred Randall stating that he heard one of 
 the soldiers say to Governor Ford: " The soldiers are determined to see 
 Joe Smith dead before they leave town." The Governor replied, "If you 
 know of any such thing keep it to yourself." 
 
 About five o'clock in the afternoon of the same day, June 27, 1844, 
 while Governor Thomas Ford was addressing the citizens of Nauvoo, a 
 mob of armed men, some two hundred strong, disguised by faces black- 
 ened, coats turned, and in other ways, approached the jail, a stone and 
 wood building in the south western edge of town, and overpowered the 
 guard, who tired over their heads, killed Joseph and Hiram Smith, and 
 wounded John Taylor nigh to death. There were in the room, Joseph 
 and Hiram Smith, John Taylor and Willard Richards, the last two 
 named being tlie onlv friends of the two men killed whom the oflicers 
 
 — 104 — 
 
would allow to stay with them. Each of the men killed and Mr. Taylor 
 were strucl<: by four balls. Plirain Smith fell in the room; Joseph ran 
 to the window and in making an effort to get out was struck by a ball 
 and fell some feet to the ground. The mob, by order of the leader, set 
 his body asrainst a well-curb near the house, and would have fired a vol- 
 ley at it, but he was already dead. 
 
 Mr. Richards remained unhurt in the debtor's room where the pris- 
 oners had been confined. Their work accomplished the mob retired. 
 
 The tragedy was over; the long, long struggle was ended; the loving 
 wife who had been faithful through all things for "better or worse," had 
 only to wait in tearless woe the last home coming of him with whom 
 she had plighted her faith for seventeen years. 
 
 In the afternoon of the 28th the bodies of the two men were brought 
 home to their grief stricken families and friends. The long pending 
 stroke had fallen, and Mrs. Smith was a widow with a family of four 
 children, the eldest thirteen. She shed few tears, but In stony eyed, 
 silent grief bore her trial, and waited until thousands had passed the 
 bier on which her dead was lying, when, with her children by her, she 
 sat down by the silent form. ''My husband, O, my husband! Have they 
 taken you from me at last?" That night she parted from her only stead- 
 fast, earthly friend, and began the singular life of patient endurance 
 and self-denial to which his death subjected her. 
 
 An administrator was appointed to take charge of Mr. Smith's estate. 
 That it was not large may be known l)y the fact, that with the usual 
 widow's exemption the sum of $12-4.00 per year was allowed her for the 
 care of herself and family. A number of creditors appeared, and what 
 property there was left became the prey of the creditors and the legal 
 costs, so that, by the time the estate was settled, it gave Mrs. Smith a 
 few lots with their buildings in the town of Nauvoo, and some acres of 
 land lying in the country. With this, and patient industry, she set 
 herself to the task of rearing her family, which on the 17th of the next 
 November after her husband's death, was increased by the birth of a 
 son, whom she called David Hiram, for her brother David and her hus- 
 band's brother. 
 
 The troubles between the people of the adjoining counties and the 
 Mormon people culminated in the expulsion of the latter from the state, 
 Mrs. Smith had, by her opposition to the measures and policy of Presi- 
 dent Brigham Young, become obnoxious to him, and to those who ac- 
 cepted him, so that when in the fail and early winter of 184() the Latter 
 Day Saints left the state, she, ostensibly one of them, and yet opposed 
 
 — lU.j — 
 
to their policy, was included in this extradition. Determined not to be 
 compromised with evil and its consequences, Mrs. Smith, to avoid possible 
 insult, if not injury from the anti-mormon forces when they should 
 enter the city according to the terms of capitulation, left Nauvoo with 
 her family on board the steamer "Uncle Toby," Captain Grimes, com- 
 mander, on the 12th day of September, 1846, for Fulton City, Whiteside 
 county, Illinois, whither one of her friends, William Marks, had preceded 
 her. She was accompanied by parts of four other families, whom she 
 took under her guidance and care. Wesley Knight and family, Loring 
 Walker (who had married a daughter of Iliram Smith) and his family, 
 two orphan girls, (Angeline and Nancy Carter), and a young man by the 
 mime of William Clapp. Mrs. Smith remained at Fulton City until Feb- 
 ruary, when, learning that the man whom she had left in possession 
 of her hotel was going to dismuntle the house and embark for Texas with 
 the spoils, she made the trip by carriage to Nauvoo, which she reached 
 in the alternoon of February 19, 1847, and so determinedly pushed her 
 claims, that in three days she was again installed in her house as its 
 mistress. 
 
 Mrs. Smith nobly and faithfully fulfilled a mother's duties for her 
 children until by marriage and death they left her. She continued to 
 live in Nauvoo until her death, April 30, 1879. Her last words were, as 
 looking upward, with feeble arms outstretched toward someone whom she 
 seemed to see, "Yes, yes, I am coming." 
 
 She became a member of the church over which her husband presided 
 in .lune, 1830, and remained always in the faith she then embraced, so that 
 when at Amboy, Illinois, in 1860, her son joined the Reorganized or Anti- 
 polygamous branch of the so-called Mormon church, she was with him, 
 and also united with that church In that faith she lived; in it she died, 
 undeviatingly devoted and faithful. 
 
 Tlie life of this rare woman was passed in a remarkable period of our 
 Nation's history. The same firmness and independence, love of right 
 and hatred of wrong, which characterized her sister, Mrs. Wasson, and 
 others of her family, also characterized her. From her own statement, 
 if her husband was a polygamist she did not know it. She was not taught 
 plural marriage, either before or after she united with the church in 1830. 
 She knew of no such tenet in connection with the published faith of the 
 body she was religiously associated with. If Joseph Smith ever had or 
 claimed to have had a revelation from God authorizing the practice, she 
 was not informed of it; and she stated positively and frequently during 
 her lifetime that she neither saw nor heard such a document read during 
 
 — 106 — 
 
her husband's lifetime. After Smith's death and the succession of Brig- 
 ham Young to the leadership of the church, Mrs. Smith steadily and 
 positively opposed, not only the dogma and practice of polygamy, but 
 Mr. Young's rule as well. She was never a convert to plural marriage 
 or spiritual wifery, but always, from her inate womanly qualities, vigor- 
 ously opposed to it. She was trusted by Mr. Smith in every station to 
 which his work or station called him, and she always proved herself equal 
 to the situation. 
 
 She was patient and just with her children, reared her four sons to 
 manhood, to honor and revere her name, and to bear the cross she bore 
 so long, and to represent her in her opposition to the evil wrought to her 
 husband's life by the introduction of false doctrines, productive of the 
 evil with which the Nation has wrestled in Utah. She had the courage 
 of her convictions, she hated tyranny and oppression, and her sons inher- 
 ited from her the same spirit. Patiently she bore what she could not 
 avoid or correct, fully believing in the law of compensation, and waiting 
 until He who can, will malce the evil give place to the good, the wrong to 
 that which is right. 
 
 Her advice to her son Joseph, on his leaving home to study law with 
 Hon. Judge William Kellogg, at Canton, Illinois, is the key to her char- 
 acter and the steadfast policy of her life. Handing him a Bible, she said 
 to him: "My son, I have no charge to you as to what your religion shall 
 be. I give you this book with this admonition; make it the man of 
 your counsel; live every day as if it were to be the last, and you will 
 have no need to fear what your future shall be." 
 
 In 1840 Reuben Bridgeman and wife. Cynthia (Dort) Bridgeman, and 
 children arrived here from Bainbridge, Alleghany County, New York, 
 and located a claim about one mile north of this city. After land came 
 into market Mr. Bridgeman bought several eighties and when his four 
 sons, Curtis, Lewis, Edgar and Otis, became of age he presented each of 
 them with a farm. Their daughters were Sally and Emily. Mr. and 
 Mrs. Bridgeman were honorable people and always willing to lend the 
 helping hand to their neighbors. They have long since passed to their 
 reward, Mr. Bridgeman dying in 1866, Mrs. Bridgeman in 1871. Their 
 son Otis was one of the first from here to enlist in the Union army. He 
 was a member of Co. C, 12th Illinois Infantry, and was a brave soldier; 
 but was taken sick while in the service and came home to die. The only 
 member of the family living here now is Curtis T. Bridgeman, who re- 
 sides on his farm south of tlie city. 
 
 — 107 — 
 
Jacob Doan, with wife and six children, came here in 1840 or 1841 from 
 Ohio. They came by way of the Ohio, Mississippi and Illinois R'vers, 
 taking a steamboat at Cincinnati. The boat was named "Old Detroit." 
 They had a very pleasant journey which lasted about two weeks, the 
 weather being warm and comfortable; but when they landed at Peru, Ill- 
 inois, it was so cold that they nearly froze making the trip across the 
 country to Palestine Grove. Mr. Doan soon bought the house which John 
 and William Church had already built on the place now owned and occu- 
 pied by Ira Smith. Here they lived for a number of years; then they 
 moved to Rocky Ford and kept a store and hotel, but at last moved back 
 on a part of the old farm, where they lived with their son David until 
 after Mr. Doan's death. Mrs. Doan and her son David and family now 
 live in Louisiana. 
 
 Mr. James Daley, one of Amboy's oldest citizens, was born in Ireland 
 in 1818. When nineteen years of age he emigrated to America. In the 
 spring of 1841 he married Miss Ellen Prindle of Ottawa. Soon afterwards 
 he came to Amboy and worked for several months on the old Illinois Cen- 
 tral R. R. He received not a cent for his labor and the five hundred 
 dollars which he loaned one of the contractors is due him to this day. 
 Mr. Daley was left without anything. He next worked for Thomas Fes- 
 senden two months at tlfty cents a day. In the spring of 1842 he moved 
 to the Wasson farm, where he remained nearly three years. In 1845 Mr. 
 Daley settled on the farm where he now resides; and through a life of 
 economy and fair dealing he has amassed a competency. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Daley are quiet, kind, excellent people who command the respect of all 
 who know them. ( Since this was written Mrs. Daley has died.) 
 
 Rev. John Cross, a Presbyterian minister, lived at Temperance Jlill 
 and named the place Theoka, but for some reason it has outlived that 
 name. Mr. Cross was a warm advocate for human freedom, a friend and 
 fellow worker with Owen Lovejoy, and was imprisoned at Ottawa for 
 his services as conductor on "the under-ground railroad." He made no 
 secret of his work. He posted bills in Mr. Bliss's bar room side by side 
 with Fritik and Walker's stage route advertisement:— "Free ride on the 
 Underground Railroad, and signed his name "John Cross, Proprietor." 
 He had a pair of horses, one cream colored and the other bay, with which 
 
 — 108 — 
 
he took his passengers, who vvciu Hying t'nuu slavery to freedom, often 
 going through from liere to Chicago in a day, sometimes having as many 
 as four passengers. Paiesiine Grove bciiiig hut about forty miles f)t)m 
 the Mississippi River, it was easily readied l)y those who were sheltered 
 and directed by other friends of the slave, who often helped them on 
 their way to this point. These under-ground dejwts were stationed all 
 along the way from "Dixie's Land ' and Ihestation-aqentsv/ere incouimun- 
 ication with each other. There was another station at Aurora. There 
 were young lads who used to hear and take note of all these proceedings, 
 who, when they grew to manhood, buckled on their armor and fought 
 valiantly for the Union, and for that Freedom of which our starry flag is 
 the ensign. 
 
 In 1841 Martin Eristwood left his h(»mt^ in Allegljany County, New 
 York, when a young man with his wife and one ciiild, nine months old, 
 to seek his fortune in the west. They came all the way in wagons. A 
 man named Munger, with his wife, agreed to drive one team through, 
 but stopping in Michigan with relatives they were persuaded to remain, 
 and Mrs. Eastwood was thus obliged to drive in iiis stead, the rest of the 
 journey. The two wagons were covered and contained their household 
 goods. Three chesis were made to fit inside the wagons. Thev crossed 
 the Illinois River lielow La Salle, and came north to Inlet Grove, stop- 
 ping a few days with David Tripp. At that small place there was one 
 store kept by Mr. Haskell. From there they went to Temperance Hill 
 and stopped with Mr. Hannum's family, who were living in a sod house 
 at that time. After remaining there a few weeks, Mr. Eastwood com- 
 menced western life by breaking the sod for a living, lie built a ht)use 
 which could be moved from place to place by the ox team, and he, with 
 Mrs. Eastwood and child, lived in it; changing their locality when the 
 work of breaking prairies was done for the last employer; his oxen, with 
 which he had done th(! work moving ihem, his wife and child living in 
 the house at the same time. This was the way he supported his family 
 for a while. After a few years he was able to buy ;i tra(;t of land, paying 
 $1.25 an acre for it. He built a house 14x28 feet, with two rooms. The 
 posts were set in the ground and boards nailed on them. At this time 
 there was but one house between them and Dixon. That was occupied 
 by Levi Lewis. Mr. Farwell's farm comprised the track of land where 
 Amboy now is. They did their trading at Grand Detour. 
 
 Mr. Eastwood succeeded in raising a crop, but his only way of realiz- 
 
 — 109 — 
 
ing any money from it, was to take it to Chicago, and tliat was easier 
 said than done. The roads were not in as good condition then as now, 
 and a great many times they mired down in the slough. One man could 
 not venture to go alone, as it was often necessary to unload the wagon, 
 and take two teams to draw it from the slough. Afterall this hard labor 
 and privation, wliich required so much time, they would sometimes re- 
 turn with nothing, their expenses having exceeded the amount received 
 for their produce, although having taken provision with them from 
 home, which they hoped would be sufficient for the trip; as places where 
 it was possible to secure a lunch were few and far between. 
 
 One day when Mrs. Eastwood was alone with the children, she dis- 
 covered that a drove of cattle that was herding on the prairie, had broken 
 down the fence and was in the corn. At first she knew not what to do- 
 She could not take both the children with her; but, equal to the emer- 
 gency, she soon found a way. Tying the little boy firmly to the bed post 
 so that she would know where he was, she took the youngest in her arms 
 and went a mile to the boundary of the farm and drove the cattle out of 
 the corn and then repaired the fence as best she could to save the crops 
 which her husband had toiled so hard to raise. At another time she left 
 her little boy alone playing on the floor for a short time while she was 
 engaged with her work. She returned just in time to see a snake crawl- 
 ing on the floor, and the little one reaching out his hand to take it, think- 
 ing it a pretty plaything. Mr. Eastwood lived on this farm twenty-one 
 years, after which he moved to Whiteside County, and from there to 
 Kansas. He and his wife were both living when last heard from. 
 
 Mr. Joseph and Mrs. Cyrus (Davis) Farwell moved to this place in May, 
 1841, and bought a claim of 160 acres of Mr. Sawyer for $100. Ilis farm 
 embraced all south of Division street as far as the river, and as far east 
 as the brook which crosses Main street, east and west to the bridge on 
 West Main street, extending over all the ground on which the railroad 
 buildings are now located. 
 
 This farm house was a log cabin situated where Mr. Zeek's house now 
 stands, on the corner of Main street and Adams avenue. It was the one 
 owned by Mr. Sawyer, removed from the head of Dutcher's pond to that 
 place. 
 
 Mr. Farwell planted the cotton wood trees which now shade Main 
 street on each side, past the Congregationalist church, in 1847. In 1852 
 Mr. Farwell sold his farm to H. B. Judkins, who bought it for the Illinois 
 Central R. R. Co. He then purchased the farm now owned by Mrs. A. 
 H. Wooster, where he lived till the weight of advancing years caused 
 
 — 110 — 
 
him to sell his farm and move to town. He owned and occupied the pro- 
 perty now improved by Dr. Travers. 
 
 Mr. Farwell built l<''arwell Hall, which was used for religious services, 
 schools, place for polling, public hall, etc., etc. He was a public spirited 
 and useful citizen, foremost in every good work. He was an anti-slavery 
 man when it was unpopular to be so: was for^ temperance and the reforms 
 of the day, and occupied many places of honor and usefulness in the 
 town. 
 
 Mrs. Farwell was very active and capable. "She looked well to the 
 ways of her household and ate not the bread of idleness." In 1875 her 
 husband died, and after spending some time in her daughter's family 
 she went to a son's in Colorado, where she died. She expressed a great 
 desire to be buried by the side of '^ that dear friend,''' referring to her 
 husband. 
 
 The following is taken from a local paper. "Died. In Amboy, Illi- 
 nois, March .5, 1875, Mr. Joseph Farwell, aged 85 years. 
 
 "The deceased w;is born in Fitchburg, Mass., May 14, 1790, of the orig- 
 inal Puritan stock, which settled throughout, the New England States. 
 While a child, his parents moved to Harvard, and at the age of 25 years, 
 he united with the Congregational Church of that place. The aged 
 couple, who have lived so long and happily together, were married in 
 1819, and they moved to Lowell, Mass.. in 1826, where Mr. Farwell united 
 with others in forming the first Congregational Church of that place. In 
 a few years he helped establish the second Congregational Church in 
 Lowell, and again the third chur(;li of that order, in all of whicdi he was 
 held in high esteem, and officiated as deacon. 
 
 In 1836 the family moved to Amboy, Michigan, where Mr. Farwell 
 aided again in founding the first Congregational Church of that place. 
 In May, 1841, he moved to this place, then Palestine Grove, where he and 
 Mrs. Farwell united with the Lee Center Congregational Church, but in 
 due time they united with Mr. and Mrs. John C. Church, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Blocher, and Dr. Abbott, wife and daughter, in organizing the present 
 Congregational Church of Aml)oy. Mr. Farwell remained a consistent 
 and influential member of the church until his death. He built the old 
 Farwell Hall, on the west side, near the old U. B. church, and for a long 
 time his church, and nearly all the public meetings were held in that 
 building. At the time Amboy was laid out, he was the owner of the land 
 in the original plot. The Monday before he died was the first election 
 at which he ever failed to vote. Mrs. Farwell was ten years his junior. 
 Their children are Joseph, Cyrena (wife of Deacon Church), Cyrus and 
 
 — 113 — 
 
Brainard, and this is the first death in the family. His last expressions 
 gave evidence of the faith and hope with which he lived. His last sick- 
 ness was brief, having suffered but a day or two, and retaining his con- 
 sciousness to the close. His last utterances were about "going home," 
 and 'Glory to God in the Highest.' His funeral last Sabbath was largely 
 attended." 
 
 Among those who came at an early day, to what is now, the pleasant 
 town of Aniboy, was Mrs. Gyrene Church. In the year 1836, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Farwell, with their three sods and one daughter, then Miss Gyrene Far- 
 well, left their home among the hills of Massachusetts to journey to the 
 far west; settling for a few years in the wilds of Michigan. These few 
 years gave them a severe experience of frontier life, and in 1841 they 
 left a region filled with malaria and ague and finally settled at Palestine 
 Grove, as it was then called. For a time they shared the log house of 
 Cyrus Davis, a brother of Mrs. Farwell. 
 
 Those log houses by the way, were a little like the traditional omnibus 
 we hear so much about, for they not only could always hold one more, 
 but could take whole families into their elastic embrace. In those days 
 it was comparatively a simple matter to enter a claim, and build a 
 little house, so a short time only, passed, before our friends found them- 
 selves in their own home. 
 
 In 1842, Miss Farwell was married to John C. Church, familiarly and 
 affectionately known to many, in his later years, as Deacon Church. For 
 years they enjoyed the simple pleasures, and shared the more sober inci- 
 dents, which always attend life on the frontier. One experience our 
 friend enjoyed, which seldom falls to the lot of people in these days; and 
 that was, assembling with her husband, and four others, at her father's 
 house, on the 27th day of June, 18.j4, for the purpose of organizing a church. 
 It was was the first religious society, and was the first church formed in 
 the town. It must have been a great pleasure, to see from this small 
 beginning, a church grow and prosper so wonderfully, and become such a 
 power for good. 
 
 The most conspicuous trait in our friend's character, was her intense 
 love of home. She was in all respects a most devoted mother. 
 
 The society of the gay world had little att.raction for her; and when 
 sorrow came to her, as it does to all, and she saw, one after another, her 
 little children go away to the better land, she did not murmer or com- 
 plain. To her friends, she was ever loyal, and those In sickness or .sorrow 
 
 — 114 — 
 
knew the kindness of her heart, and the largess of her hand. What hifjh- 
 er honor can we pay her memory, than to quote a few words from the 
 great Solomon, in his beautiful tribute to woman. "The heart of her 
 husband doth safely trust in her." and, " Her children shall arise up and 
 call her blessed." 
 
 The following interesting letter from Mrs. Lucy (Church) Ramsey, 
 written to her niece, Miss Ella Church of this city, has just been handed 
 in. 
 
 My Dear Ella:— You ask me to contribute something to the early 
 history of Amboy, and I will try now. 
 
 This is the third time I have been solicited for items for the Lee 
 County History and I have just begun to realize that I am a pioneer 
 woman myself. 
 
 We came from central New York to Lee County in the Fall of 1841, 
 and my first Illinois winter was spent near where Amboy now is, teaching 
 their tirst school — and boarding 'round — so had unlimited oppor- 
 tunities for observation. 
 
 Where Amboy and adjoining towns now are was called at that time 
 Palestine Grove, and different places referred to as "North Side," "South 
 Side," or "East End of the Grove." 
 
 A majority of my patrons were from Ohio, Indiana, or states farther 
 south; but their dwellings and manner of life were quite similar, whether 
 they were emigrants from Carolina or Connecticut. 
 
 The houses were built of logs, and most of them had floor of puncheon 
 and roof of shakes. 
 
 One side of the room was a huge fireplace, and there all the food was 
 prepared in skillet, kettle or bake oven. 
 
 On the opposite side was a bed or two — the other sleeping places were 
 in the loft overhead. 
 
 One night after we had all retired and were asleep, we were awakened 
 by that hoarse, distressed breathing of a child with croup. The father 
 ascended the ladder, brought down the little lad, held him a little while 
 before the Are, there placed him in bed and all was quiet again till 
 morning. 
 
 When I enquired what cured him so quickly the answer was: "1 took 
 my pocket knife and started the blood a little between the shoulders." 1 
 never heard of the remedy before or since, but it was effective that time. 
 
 I think in looking backward to fifty years ago, we discover more hard- 
 ships than we actually realized when we were actors upon that stage. 
 
 — 115 — 
 
But soldiers like to "flght their battles o'er again" and a story loses noth- 
 ing in the telling. 
 
 These people interested nie. Tliey were kind, hospitable, and gen- 
 uine. The men were good husbands and affectionate fathers; the women 
 real home makers. They spun, colored, wove, and fashioned the garments 
 for their families. They toiled, of course, but it was for those they loved, 
 and it could not be called hardship. 
 
 Every one likes to do as well as his neighbors, and they never come 
 nearer to it than they do on the frontier. 
 
 No time or place is entirely exempt from sickness, and almost every 
 one had to suffer with ague and fever; but cancer, diphtheria, and 
 nervous prostration were unheard of. 
 
 Perhaps I ought to tell of that little first school house. It was of the 
 same style of architecture as the homesteads— its furniture a desk across 
 one side, a few rough benches, and a chair. But the children were just 
 as precious as those of the present day; and for docility and brightness 
 would compare favorably with those of 1893. 
 
 I do not suppose the legend of "Academus' Sacred Shade" had any 
 thing to do with the choice of site for this temple of learning, but it was 
 built among the oaks south of the Inlet, and when summer came with 
 its birds, greenery and wild flowers it was very pleasant. 
 
 Religious privileges were not wanting. Besides the circuit-rider of 
 the frontier, there was an Episcopal clergyman, a Congregatlonalist min- 
 ister, and a Baptist elder settled on farms in the vicinity, who occasioii- 
 ally gave out an appointment to preach; and settlers for miles around 
 came to hear and meet their neighbors. All were neighbors then who 
 lived no more than ten miles away. 
 
 Well, those days are remembered with those of logs ago. May I never 
 lose the memory of them! 
 
 Joseph B. Appleton was the oldest child of Joseph and Hannah (Knowl- 
 ton) Appleton, of Dublin, New Hampshire, and was born March 9, 1819. 
 He was a nephew of Samuel Appleton, of Boston, Massachusetts, one of 
 that city's "merchant princes." Of this noted uncle there is an interest- 
 ing sketch from which the following is taken for the encouragement of 
 Amboy boys: " A few weeks previous to his death he was heard to say 
 that, before he began the business of a merchant, he worked chopping 
 down trees on one of the lots of land which his father had purchased in 
 Dublin, New Hampshire, and that he then thought of settling upon it. 
 But as it was in the month of June and the weather very hot he was not 
 
 — 116 — 
 
satisfied with that kind of labor, and concluded to procure a Uv\i\g in 
 some other way. Accordinj^ly he left the woods and engaged in trade. 
 The result is well known." From a letter written in his 87th year to the 
 committee of arrangements in response to a letter recjuestihg his personal 
 attendance at the celebration of the hundredth anniversary of the settle- 
 ment of Du])lin. New Hampshire, the following is extracted. After ex- 
 pressing regret that age and bodily infirmities compel his absence, he 
 says: " I have always taken an interest in the town of Dublin. In or 
 about the year 178<i. I resided there four months, and was engaged, during 
 that time in teaching two different schools, say of two months each, at 
 eight dollars per month. * * * In one district it was arranged for the 
 schoolmaster to live with the family that would board and lodge him the 
 cheapest. Having been informed where I was to board, I set out for my 
 new home on foot, carrying the greater part of my wardrobe on my back, 
 and the remainder tied up in a bandanna handkerchief. On arriving at 
 the place of my destination, I found my host and hostess, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Fairbanks ready and apparently glad to see me. They were to receive 
 for my board, lodging and washing sixty-seven cents per week. Their 
 house was made of logs with only one room in it, which served for parlor, 
 kitchen and bedroom. I slept on a trundle-bed, which during the day was 
 wheeled under the large bed, where the master and mistress of the house re- 
 reposed during the night. Every morning and evening there were family 
 prayers and readings from the Bible, in which I sometimes took an active 
 part. After spend i ng two weeks at Mr. Fairbank's, I removed to Mr. Perry's. 
 He was a good farmer, his wife an excellent house-keeper; and I finished 
 my school term very pleasantly to myself and, I believe, very satisfac- 
 torily to my employers. Since that time great improvements have been 
 made in the public schools of Dublin. 1 am informed that it contains as 
 good schools, and turns out as competent teachers as any town in New 
 Hampshire. In consideration of the "good and healthful condition" of 
 its public schools, and of the "spirit of improvement" which appears to 
 animate those who are engaged in them, I am induced to send to the 
 town of Dublin my check for the sum of one thousand dollars, to be ap- 
 propriated to educational purposes in such n)anner as the superintending 
 school committee shall deem expedient." Mr. Appleton sent the follow- 
 ing toast: "The Common Schoolsof Dul)lin.— Uncommon in Excellence." 
 This letter was written in 18r)2 and the scliool which he taught was in 
 1786, more than a hundred years ago. When Amboy shall celebrate her 
 centennial, which of our children's children will remember her in this 
 way? 
 
 — 117 — 
 
So Joseph Appleton was not the first one by the name to try pioneer 
 life. He came to Illinois in 1842, stoppinyr at Batavia, New York, and 
 teaching school awhile. He bought land in this place from the Sawyers, 
 remaining little over a year before returning east, and tarrying with his 
 aunt, Mrs. Cyrus Davis, while here. He came to own several hundred 
 acres, a part of his land being the homestead known as the Appleton 
 Place, on Main street, West. He married Miss Abbie H. Hunt, of New 
 Ipswich, New Hampshire, on September 17. 1844, and they started for 
 Illinois the next month. On arriving in Chicago they met Asa B. Searles, 
 with a lumber wagon, who brought them to Palestine Grove. The same 
 fall Mr. Appleton built a log cabin on his farm, and afterwards a good 
 frame house which was destroyed by Are a few years ago. 
 
 Samuel E., Isaac J., Abby R. (Mrs. Charles Thayer) who lives at Wa- 
 verly, Iowa, and Maria N. (Mrs. George Woods), of Canton, Illinois, are 
 their children living. Julia, an infant daughter, died August 17, 1855» 
 and on the 28th of the next month Mr. Appleton died He was one of 
 the most capable, active and prominent citizens of the town. 
 
 Mr. Appleton's widow married Dr. T. P. Sleeper, of St. Albans, Maine 
 and they have two daughters, Anna A. and Emma A. 
 
 Our fellow townsman, Samuel E. Appleton, was born September 7th, 
 1845, served in Co. I, 134th Regiment Illinois Volunteers in the war, do- 
 ing garrison duty in Missouri and Kentucky. He has, at this writing' 
 just been elected town collector by his friends, of which he has and de- 
 serves many. 
 
 William Rolf reached Amboy in 1842, and a few years afterwards 
 married Mary S. Pyle, a daughter of Samuel Pyle. Mr. and Mrs. Rolf 
 lived in Rocky Ford and for a time the postofflce was in their house. 
 When the mail carrier arrived all the contents of the mail bag would be 
 dumped upon the floor, and the letters and papers which belonged to 
 this office selected from the rest, which were put back into the sack to 
 be assorted in life manner at the next postofflce. Soon after the city of 
 Amboy was laid out Mr. Rolf bought a lot here and built a house, where 
 he lived several years. They now reside in Albany, Illinois. 
 
 Rev. John IngersoU, the father of Robert G., followed Rev. Joseph 
 Gardner, and preached for two years in the Wasson school-house, divid- 
 ing the time between Amboy, Inlet Grove and Bradford. He, with a 
 daughter and two sons, Clark and Robert, boarded for a time in the 
 family of Asa Searles. He afterwards lived just north of the Chicago 
 
 — 118 — 
 
road and snppletnented his meager professional income witli the proceeds 
 of farming. He used to spealc with reverence and tenderness of the 
 mother of his children who had died previous to his coming to Illinois. 
 
 Mr. Ingersoll was a stern Presbyi/crian of the old school. He is said 
 to have borne a striking resemblance to Gen. Jackson's pictures; and he 
 was a warrior, too, ready to flght Apolyon whenever his Majesty appeared 
 with young or old. 
 
 "The Elder" transmitted not his form and features to his jovial son, 
 who was even at that age irresistably charming to some of his playfel- 
 lows, so that some boys forgot their work when he was near. 
 
 One day, on his way to school with other scholars, there was a place 
 to cross where the water had overflowed the rustic bridge, and there was 
 no way to pass except to wade through the cold and ice-laden water. 
 Little Clara Frisbee was one of the number, and the kind hearted boy 
 took the little girl up and carried her carefully over. Mr. Wheat, the 
 teacher, already at the school-house, was looking from the window and 
 witnessed the gallant service, and when the children arrived he looked 
 at Robert with a roguish smile which would have annoyed some boys, 
 especially as the other scholars joined in the mirih. But Robert, as he 
 dried his wet clothes and warmed himself at the flre, looked as if nobody 
 enjoyed the tun better than he did; and the little maiden, all unconscious 
 of anything droll in the picture from the window, wondered what pleased 
 them so. Robert was, at that time, about fifteen years of age, very "self 
 sustained" and sociable. Years afterwards, when the notoriety of Rob- 
 ert G. Ingersoll first reached Amboy, his old schoolmates here were sur- 
 prised to learn that it was the veritable Bob. of the old log school-house 
 
 One who knew his father well, and had often entertained him, re- 
 marked that it was not surprising that Robert swung to the other ex- 
 treme in matters of a religious nature, for although he was not the boy 
 of whom it was said that his father kept him tied up all day Sunday and 
 made him sing "Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love," yet Bob's exper- 
 ience was not altogether unlike that boy's. 
 
 Mr. Ingersoll owned a horse named Selim which he traded for cattle, 
 the result proving that either the minister or the owner of the cattle was 
 not a judge of horse flesh. 
 
 He was a strong advocate for temperance and on one occasion when 
 he was in company with Mr. Slyvester Frisbee, he was invited by an ac- 
 quaintance to a barn raising. The Elder asked if they were to have 
 whiskey there. On being answered in the affirmative, he replied that he 
 could not attend. Mr. Frisbee followed the example. 
 
 — 119 - 
 
It is related by one wIkj used to attend his meetings, that if any of 
 his hearers arrived late, he would stop, and then begin the sermon again; 
 and that his discourses were rather prolix. 
 
 Among those who moved here in 1844, was Orres Adams, of Miiford, 
 Otsego county. New York. Mr. Adams was tlien tlfty-two years old, and 
 his wife, Mrs. Mehitable. two years younger. 
 
 Himself and wife and their two youngest children, aged eleven and 
 nineyears, Henry and Ellen, constituted the family. They lived, for sev- 
 eral years, near the Wasson School House, at that time, the center of the 
 settlement. The school house was newly builded, and people came from 
 all directions to attend church. Mr. and Mrs. Adams soon became 
 acquainted with all their neighbors. Rev. Luke Hitchcock, Rev, Mr. 
 Harris, Rev. Charles Cross and other pioneer preachers were callers at 
 their home and were always given a cheerful welcome. Mrs. Adams was 
 one (tf the early members of the Methodist church and was ever ready to 
 speak a good word for the cause of Cliristianity. Those who knew Mr. 
 and Mrs. Adams, speak of them as kind neighbors, enjoying the C(mtl- 
 dence and respect of all. Their married life was nearly three score years 
 and ten. Sixty-seven years they walked togetlier and died at a ripe old 
 age at the home of tlieir son, Henry Adams at Binghamton. Tlieir 
 daughter Ellen who married Jay Andriiss. died when about tliirty-seven 
 years of age. No kinder woman ever lived. 
 
 Mr. J. W. Beresford lias kindly consented to furnish some of his recol- 
 lections of early times. AlLliough a resident of Ambov but 3(3 years, he 
 came to Illinois with his parents in 1822, at the age of seven years; and 
 it is proljable that very tew people are living in Northern Illinois who 
 came here at that early (late. Mr. lieresford attended the Old Settler's 
 Picnic at Ottawa last fall, and among them all, none except himself 
 could go back fartlier ihan 1829; Mr. Beresford Ijeing seven years in 
 advance of them. His brother James was one of tlie number murdered 
 in the historic Indian Creek Massacre. 
 
 Mr. Jieresford says: Perhaps for a better understanding of what fol- 
 lows, it would be well to describe the part of Illinois referred to, and its 
 inliabitants, as found in the spring of 1822. The vast and beautiful agri- 
 cultural region of country From Peoria to Chicago, a distance of 160 miles; 
 and from near the Wabash river on the south, to near the Mississippi on 
 the west, there were no permanent white settlements at that time. The 
 land (or most of it) belonged to the Government and was not 'organized 
 into counties, but was attached to Tazwell county, Peoria being thecoun- 
 
 — 120 — 
 

 MRS. ORRES ADAMS. 
 
ty seat. Over this large scope of country were various tribes of Indians. 
 Araong them was the Pottawattoruie tribe, peacable, friendly and well 
 disposed toward the white people. To this tribe it was resolved by the 
 Methodist Episcopal Conference, at one of their annual meetings of the 
 St. Clair Conference, to send a missionary for the purpose of educating 
 and christianizing them. Rev. Jess>e Walker, a member of that confer- 
 ence was appointed Missionary, and large contributions and supplies were 
 entrusted to him for this mission. 
 
 Two ox teams and wagons, eight or ten cows and calves, a few young 
 cattle and pigs, flour, bacon, corn, buckwheat, potatoes, groceries, cloth- 
 ing, farming tools, carpenter and blacksmith tools, etc., etc., were turned 
 over to Mr. Walker with instructions to establish a mission at or near the 
 mouth of Fox river, or where the Fox river unites with the Illinois, 
 about eighty miles above Peoria, midway between Peoria and Chicago. 
 
 To carry out these instructions, a large keel boat was chartered, the 
 supplies put on board, together with the household goods of two families 
 etc. The teams were loaded and driven overlantl together with the loose 
 stock. The party at this time consisted of Rev. Jesse Walker, Aaron 
 Hawley, wife and two small girls, Pierce Ilawley, ( brother of Aaron ) 
 wife, and daughter Caroline about If) years old. and two small boys, John 
 and George. 
 
 At Peoria they were joined by Robert Beresford and family, consisting 
 of his wife and two small boys named James and John, also a school 
 teacher Allen. Being thus re-enforced, together with four or five hired 
 men, the party proceeded to their place of destination, where they arriv- 
 ed, after many hardships and privations, in the month of June 1822. 
 They were here met by about two hundred Indians, also a white man 
 named Countryman, who had lived with the Indians a long time and who 
 spoke their language fluently, acting as their interpreter- Here we also 
 met Shabbona the head chief of the tribe, who afterwards, in 1832, render- 
 ed such valuable service to the settlers by warning them that Black 
 Hawk, with his band of savages, was coming to kill all the settlers in the 
 country. Plere the Indians remained and held a Pow-Wow lasting two 
 or three days, and received presents from their white friends. 
 
 Every thing was arranged satisfactorily. Some of the men were set to 
 work erecting shanties for shelter for the families, and storage for the 
 contents of the boat. Other men "started breaking team," planted sod 
 corn and potatoes, and sowed buckwheat and turnips, in all about fifteen 
 acres. Others of the party were preparing timber and erecting log cabins 
 on the South side of the Illinois River near the new noted Sulphur 
 
 — 12.3 — 
 
Spring. When completed they were occupied by one of the Hawley fami- 
 lies and the Beresford family. 
 
 About this time it was discovered that the place was not on the Reser- 
 vation, and it was thought best to erect permanent buildings on the East 
 side of Fox River, about fifteen miles up that stream. Here were erected 
 large and comfortable log houses. To this place most of the Mission 
 party moved, and spent the following winter preparing to fence a large 
 farm in the spring; the Hawley and Beresford families remaining in the 
 first houses built. 
 
 Here we record the first birth and death of a white child in the 
 country. There was born to Robert and Mary Beresford a daughter, 
 who lived only two or three months, and was buried not far from the 
 cabin. 
 
 About this time a few settlers came; — a Mr. Brown and son settled on 
 the South side of the Illinois River, about one mile above the mouth of 
 the Fox River. Mr. Bailey settled at Bailey's Point, John Ramsey and 
 family, near the cabin first built; also the Pembroke family and a few 
 others settled near these two Mission Stations. 
 
 In the fall of 1825 the families of Hawley and Beresford moved to what 
 is now called Holderman's Grove, three miles from Mission Grove. 
 About this time was solemnized the first wedding in the country. A 
 young man, named Williard Scott, frequently going and returning be- 
 tween Chicago and Peoria, and stopping at the Mission, formed the ac- 
 quaintance of our Mission girl, Caroline Hawley. In due course of time 
 arrangements for a wedding were made; and Williard Scott and his 
 brother Willis, accompanied by a young lady from Chicago, came to the 
 Mission, where Willis and his intended remained while his brother went 
 to Peoria and returned with marriage licences for all four of the high con- 
 tracting parties. They were married at the Mission Chapel by our 
 worthy Missionary, Rev. Jesse Walker. 
 
 A short time before this marriage, a young chief offered Mr. Hawley 
 ten ponies and a large amount of furs for his daughter Caroline. To 
 this proposal the young lady demurred, her father informing the savage 
 that it was not the custom, and it was contrary to the religion of the 
 whites to sell their daughters for wives. 
 
 Late in the autumn of 1829 three families from Ohio, viz., John 
 Green, R. Debolt and Henry Baumbach settled at and near where the 
 town of Dayton is now located. During the following two years, other 
 families from the same place in Ohio, came and settled near the first 
 comers in Dayton. Some of their names we will enumerate. Wm. Strat- 
 
 — 124 — 
 
MARIA ADAMS. 
 
 (MKS. YoCUM,) 
 
ton. Mathias Trumbo, Mrs. Pitzer and sons, the Govens, the Donovans, 
 the Armstrongs and Doctor David Walker and family, two sons and three 
 daughters— all grown persons. 
 
 From these points settlements spread in all directions; some on Rock 
 River, Desplaines, DuPage and Fox. River and their tributaries. 
 
 Shortly after this the country was organized into counties; elections 
 were held, county officers elected and courts of record established. This 
 brings us up to the spring of 1832, when the Black Hawk War broke out. 
 Settlers scattered all over the country, heeding the warning given by our 
 friend Shabbona and his sons at the risk of their own lives. The settlers 
 had barely time to gather at a central location, build fortiflcations and 
 organize for mutual protection before Black Hawk was on the war-path 
 in full force. The first outrage was the massacre of the Davises, Halls 
 and the Pettegrew families on Indian Creek, on the 20th day of May, 
 when thirteen men, women and children were butchered. Two of the 
 Hall girls, young ladies, were taken captive. A month later, near this 
 place, James Beresford was killed and two men named Schermerhorn 
 and Hasseltine on Fox River were killed. The history of the Black 
 Hawk War is so familiar to many that the outrages committed need not 
 be repeated here. 
 
 David Searles and wife moved from Otsego County, New York, to Lee 
 County in 1844 and located in Crombie Lane on the farm now owned by 
 Hiram Bates. His family consisted of his wife, Eliza Ann, daughter of 
 Mr. Orres Adams, and daughter Eugenia. Mr. Searles was a prominent 
 citizen and considered quite wealthy for those days. When land first 
 came into market, many settlers were not able to pay for their claims, 
 and they came to him for assistance. He held the office of Constable and 
 afterwards Justice of the Peace. When township organization was 
 adopted, he represented Amboy as its first Supervisor. About 1850 he 
 bought out the dry goods and grocery store of Wasson & Crocker at Bing- 
 hampton. Soon afterwards he was appointed postmaster; the office was 
 kept in the store. Mr. Searles died in May 29th, 1857, and his wife fol- 
 lowed him the next year, January 12, 1858. Mrs. Searles was blessed with 
 an amiable disposition and she had the spirit of a true christian. She 
 spoke ill of no one. Eugenia Searles, the daughter, now Mrs. Booth, re- 
 sides in Chicago. 
 
 Addison Brewer was married to Miss Maria Adams, daughter of Mr. 
 Orres and Mrs. Mehitable Adams, in Milford, Otsego County, New York, 
 in 1844, and arrived here in the spring of 1845. He bought the 160 acres 
 
 — 127 — 
 
in Section 12, which is now owned by Mr. Josiah Little. Henry Adams, 
 who drove breaking plow for Mr. Brewer, bare- footed, says that the kill- 
 ing of a rattlesnake was almost a daily occurence. Mr. Brewer was the 
 first town collector of Amboy. His widow is now tlie wife of T.D. Yocum 
 and resides in Amboy. Of her hospitable home and generous traits, her 
 friends are not weary of telling. Her only son, Harlan L. Brewer, en- 
 listed, when only sixteen years of age, in the 12th Illinois Infantry and 
 served through the war. He now resides in Rock Falls. 
 
 Mrs. Yocum can tell of many of the hardships of pioneer life and of 
 the kindly ministrations of the pioneers to each other which brightened 
 the dark days, when both herself and husband were sick, yet obliged to 
 work, he fainting away over the wood he was sawing. 
 
 J. Henry Adams, son of Mr. Orres and Mrs. Mehitable Adams, came 
 here with his parents in 1844, at the age of eleven years. He worked on 
 the farm and attended school, improving such educational advantages as 
 he had at that time. He lived near the Wasson school house, which was 
 a central location then. Mr. Adams relates, from his great memory, 
 pleasing Incidents of "Uncle Ben Wasson" and others. Robert G. Inger- 
 soll, then a neighbor, was a playmate, who, with his father, then a 
 preacher here, is elsewhere mentioned in these sketches. Mr. Adams 
 has always remained in Amboy, taking care of his parents, who lived to 
 a good old age. He married Miss Catherine M. Crafts of New York, for- 
 merly a teacher, and who is a relative of the present Speaker of the 
 House by that name at Springticld, Illinois. 
 
 Although living on his farm a short distance from this city, Mr. 
 Adams tlnds time to "follow the bent of his genius," and engage, more or 
 less, in work for the press of Lee County, with which he has been con- 
 nected in different ways for many years. He was correspondent for the 
 Dixon 2'clegraph six years, and was three years local editor with Wm. H 
 Haskell. He, with Wm. M. Geddes, established The Amboy News, and 
 they continued together in its puljlication live years. He was associated 
 one year with Capt. Wm. Parker, of the Rock Falls News. Mr. Adams 
 sold out his interest to W. M. Geddes; was afterwards local editor for Dr. 
 Loomis. Perhaps no man in town has a more extensive acquaintance, 
 both from his long residence here and from his public duties, which have 
 brought him in contact with many. His kind and genial disposition, 
 making him ever ready to confer a favor, has won him many friends. In 
 the collection of reminiscences for these days, he has been of thegreatest 
 service, and lias placed the descendants of the pioneers, and all who may 
 
 — 128 — 
 
MR. J. HENRY ADAMS. 
 
MRS. J. HENRY ADAMS. 
 
treasure these records of the past in after years, under perpetual obliga- 
 tion, much l)einf^ preserved which, hut for his untiring assistance, must 
 have bt^en lost beyond recall. 
 
 A fellow laborer and friend. Mr. William Kelio. of the Journal office, 
 pays him this iribute< 
 
 •'As a general man upon a country weel<ly and as a newsgatherer, Mr. 
 Adams had but few equals and no superiors. VViih an experience of 
 eighteen years, a wiile acquaintance, and possessing that peculiar faculty 
 of separating the wheat from the chaff, he is able, at all times, to pre- 
 sent the news to his readers in a bright, crisp manner. He has been 
 associated with different papers as correspondent, served for years as 
 local editor upon the Amhoy Journal and Amboy News, at one time own- 
 ing a half interest in the latter; at no time posing as a bright star in the 
 literary field, still, his quiet, unassuming ways have won for him hosts of 
 friends who are grateful for the words of consolation and solace to the 
 bereaved, encouragement to the disheartened, and the well wishes to 
 those starting afresh with brightened prospects. He is gifted with a 
 wonderful memory, and having lived during a period when matters of 
 local historical importance transpired, he possesses a wealth of informa- 
 tion which should be recorded and placed to his credit, that generations 
 to come may know the true worth of the man whose presence we now 
 enjoy.'" 
 
 It was a matter of general regret when Mr. Adams closed his regular 
 work with ihe News and Journal, and readers and suliscribers for those 
 papers felt that they had met with a personal loss. His gentle compan- 
 ion seems always imbued with the same unassuming desire for being use- 
 ful to every one. and is ever interested in Mr. Adanrs pursuits. The re- 
 fining influence of her presence is evident in her home and family. She 
 has set her life tct his "Like perfect music unto noble words." Theirchil- 
 dren are Lulu, Leo M., Jessie, Kate and Harry. 
 
Tfie Le\Vi^ Fan^nf^. 
 
 HAS BEEN a marked family in tliis county since Nathaniel Lewis, 
 wife and children, emigrated to this place, and took up their 
 abode on Temperance Hill in 1843. They were the same who, in 
 company with Mr. and Mrs. Isaac Hale, emigrated from Vermont to 
 Pennsylvania in 1790. There, for more than fifty years they lived, and 
 when again they took up pioneer life, they were the parents of twelve 
 children, all living— six sons and six daughters. Mrs. Lewis was a sister 
 of Isaac Hale, and sister-in-law of Charles Pickering, M. D., a grandson 
 of Hon. Timothy Pickering, of revolutionary fame, whose names are re- 
 corded with honor in Johnson's cycloptedia. Of their children, the younger 
 ones came with them, the older following with their families a year or 
 two later. Their names were Levi, Nathaniel, Timothy P., Joseph, Hiel, 
 Miles, Esther, Elizabeth, Sarah, Ann, Lurena and Olive. The four young- 
 est brothers settled in this vicinity and assisted in the organization of 
 this township. 
 
 Levi, the oldest son, left four children; Joseph, a minister of the U. 
 B church, and Reuben, and two daughters. Phila A. (Mrs. Peter Maine) 
 and Mrs. M. L. Virgil. All settled in Amboy and are still living. 
 
 Nathaniel's children were Mary, Julia Ann, Addison, Zebulon, Louisa, 
 Ira, Anthony, Milinda and Sarah. This family left Amboy. 
 
 Timothy P. had one son, Charles, and two daughters, Lurena and 
 Eliza. 
 
 Joseph married Miss Rachel Cargill, of Cheshire county. New Hamp- 
 shire, and came here from Pennsylvania in 1845 with five children, all of 
 whom are now dead. Their names were Gaylord J., James C, John, 
 Andrew J. and Electa Jane. Joseph Ellis was born in Amboy. 
 
 Hiel had Ira W. (now Circuit Clerk), Orin, Percy Irwin and Dayton, 
 and one daughter who married Wm. Dresser. 
 
 Miles had two sons and three daughters: Everett and R(>bert, Alice. 
 Alpha and Elizabeth. 
 
 Sarah married Sabin Trowbridge and lived in Lee Center. She had 
 two daughters and one son. He starved in Andersonville prison. 
 
 — 134 — 
 
Ann niariied Austin B. Trowbridge and had live children. 
 
 Lurena married Aui^'ustus Trowbridge. 
 
 Olive married A. G. Skinner and had children. 
 
 It would require far more space than we have here to record the brav- 
 ery and patriotism of the descendantii^of Nathaniel Lewis. There were 
 twelve of them in the Union army at one time. Three died in Ander- 
 sonville prison, none of them knowing the presence of the others. Three 
 sons of Joseph, broLhers of our post master, J. E. Lewis, gave up their 
 young lives to their country. Their mother, Mrs. Kachel Lewis, now liv- 
 ing here with her son, J. E., still mentally gifted though eighty-seven 
 years of age, has related some of the events of her pioneer life which are 
 treasured in this article. Could the reader have heard the stately, noble 
 looking old lady relate her pioneer history with the beautiful, kindly 
 smile, as if it was but a dream which she was telling for the pleasure of 
 her hearers, the contrast between that and these written pages would 
 make them dim indeed; for the wondrous smile told of the dissolving 
 toils of earth and the sweet peaije beyond. 
 
 They with their five children, Timothy P. and family. Miles and family 
 and their sister Elizabeth -Mrs. Hezekiah McKune — and family, and two 
 young men, came together from Pennsylvania to Illinois. They had con- 
 structed a flat-boat and on this they all took passage up the Delaware 
 River to Binghampton, New York, where they sold the boat and came by 
 canal to Buffalo, and from there by steamboat to Chicago. They reached 
 Chicago Saturday night, and Sunday morning employes from the differ- 
 ent public houses flocked to the boat to secure the passengers. "The 
 Great Western" hotel had just been completed and to this our company 
 came. Here from the window of her room Mrs. Lewis looked out upon a 
 vast and seemingiy unlimited prairie, with scarcely an object in view. 
 With her little daughter, Electa, brought all the long way in her arms, 
 she remained at the hotel, taking care of her own and the otherchildren, 
 while other members of the party were preparing for the toilsome journey 
 in the ox-carts and wagons across the country to Palestine Grove. After 
 the usual fashion of camping out by night and alternately riding and 
 walking by day, they at last reached the Inlet where they met John Dex- 
 ter, who, having recently lost his wife, offered them the use of his cabin 
 until they could be otherwise provided for: himself and children still re- 
 maining there. They were soon stricken with fever and ague, which no 
 one seemed to think at all alarming, though thev suffered greatly from 
 it. Everyone had it, and seemed to take it as a matter of course. 
 
 In the fall they moved to a house which stood vacant, on the Chicago 
 
 — 133 — 
 
road, just beyond the house built some years ago by Captain Pratt, and 
 on the opposite side of the road. Some of the family were carried on beds, 
 some could hardly sit up through the long, hard ride, so it was a cheerless 
 and difficult "moving." But they found very kind neighbors, and Mrs. 
 Lewis says she doesn't know how tney could have lived through the winter, 
 had it not been for them— Mrs. Davis, a daughter of the man who owned 
 the place, the family of Solomon Parker, who iivetl on the Peru road, and 
 Mr. Campbell, then sheriff, who lived on what is still called the "Camp- 
 bell Place," just beyond the North - Western railroad crossing 
 on the Chicago road. His wife and daughter came almost every day to 
 see them, prepare food and try to make them comfortable. Sometimes 
 only one of the family would be able to be out of bed, and not infrequent- 
 ly, they could only creep out of bed, tlx the tire, or make a kettle of hasty- 
 pudding, and get back again, weak and shivering. 
 
 Dr. Gardner lived near, and his visits gave them hope, and he was wel- 
 comed with joy. Sometimes Mrs. Gardner visited them, carrying broth 
 or gruel, or helping to make the beds and sweep. One time Gaylord 
 cried because he " couldn't eat any more" of her gruel " it was so good." 
 Any one who ever had the ague, would know the fierce hunger that fol- 
 lows the chill and the burning fever, and appreciate the child's tears. 
 
 There was no water within a half a mile, and the little boys had to go 
 between chills to get it. This was no light task in that long, cold winter, 
 and they Anally rigged up a sled, or broad, boat-like arrangement on 
 which they could draw a barrel. To this they hitched a young steer, 
 borrowed of a neighbor. The frisky team made then a good deal of 
 trouble, and cost them some tears and trials, with ruruiways and upsets, 
 but they persevered, and succeeded at last in getting a good supply of 
 water with comparatively small labor. 
 
 While the family were all sick, and in the coldest of that long-to-be- 
 remembered "hard winter," thebaby died; the only little daughter, Electa 
 (for whom her little niece, the daughter of James Lewis and his wife, 
 Lucy Burnham Lewis, was named, many years after). The father was 
 very dangerously sick, the mother hardly able to sit up. The daughter 
 of a neighbor, Miss Hankerson. came in, just as the dear little girl lay 
 dying, took her in her arms and held her till all was over. Then she 
 gently robed the little body for its last rest and laid it in the upper drawer 
 of the old fashioned bureau. A Mr. Ferguson made the little cottin of 
 plain wood, without paint or stain or covering of cloth, and Mrs. Lewis 
 says: "1 shall never forget how I felt to see my baby laid in that cold, 
 hard box." Only one boy, Gaylord, was able to sit up during the simple 
 
 — 136 — 
 
funeral services. The father lay unconscious, and it was six months 
 before any one of thetu could visit the spot where the baby was buried. 
 
 Then, the spring had come. They had spent nine months at South 
 Dixon, had passed through experiences which forever after leave a differ- 
 ent light on all the world, and with sadness and in gladness they returned 
 to Amboy and located on the farm which had been vacated by James 
 Doan. Here they still found many of the "hardships of pioneer life" yet 
 they were prospered and beloved. Mr. and Mrs. Lewis were members of 
 the Methodist Episcopal church, he being steward, trustee and class 
 leader, sometimes holding all the offices at one time. 
 
 The oldest son, Gaylord, whose youthful ambition was aroused with 
 the cry of '■'Ho for CaliforniaV followed the example of Josiah Davis, James 
 Doan, Benjamin Wasson and son, and others from this vicinity, and went 
 from here in company with two others with ox teams. He passed through 
 "hair-breadth 'scapes," but reached there in safety and did well. He 
 was not a miner, but captain of a supply train, riding his white mule at 
 the head of a line of pack-mules, the six days' rough journey from San 
 Francisco to the mines. Those were hard, rough times, but he wrote 
 cheerfully, and hoped to help his parents a great deal. In August he 
 had seven hundred dollars ready to send them, when he went to San 
 Francisco the next time, but he spoke of Indian trouble with some ap- 
 prehension. That was the last they ever heard from him; though after a 
 long time they learned that a large company were killed by the Indians 
 in a canyon, and they feared that he might have been one of the number. 
 Hope was abandoned by all but his mother, who says: "He was nineteen 
 years old then, he would have been flfty-nine now, and all these years I 
 have lived in suspense, hoping against hope, that I might, at least, learn 
 his fate." 
 
 Then came the cruel war, and when President Lincoln's call for 75,000 
 men reached Amboy. and the Lewis boys heard the summons, and en- 
 listed, their parents gave them up like the Spartans of old; and there is 
 something now in the stately mien of that widowed and aged mother, 
 that makes one doubt not that she would not hesitate, yet, to sacrifice 
 those dearer then her own life, in a sacred cause. James C. volunteered 
 in Company I, 89th Illinois Volunteers, was wounded May 9, 1864, and 
 died at Chattanooga, July 23d. John enlisted in Company G, .39th Illinois 
 Volunteers, (Yates Phalanx) August 20, 1861, served under McClellan, 
 and Shields, and in January, 1863, came home to die within ihe year, 
 November 29. 1864, from disease contracted by exposure in the army. 
 Andrew J. enlisted in Company G, (Yates' Phalanx), August 2, 1861, and 
 
 — 137 — 
 
died at Foley Island, Charleston harbor, July 4, 1863. The only son, or 
 child, left was too young to go. 
 
 On January 15, 1882, the aged couple celebrated their golden wedding, 
 and that day was the last that Mr. Lewis was able lo walk out. He died 
 a few months later, in the early spring. 
 
 Only for lack of time and space many interesting reminiscenses for 
 this work might be gathered from this pioneer mother whose memory is 
 remarkable. Her little granddaughter, who resembles her, said to-day: 
 "The bureau that grandma's little girl was laid out in, is up in her room 
 now." 
 
 With tender reverence we leave her, surrounded by her loved ones, 
 and the mementoes of those gone before. 
 
 May a rich " Harvest Gathering of the Heart" await her in the Beau- 
 tiful Land. 
 
 A. D. Smith was born in Ithlca, New York, September 11, 1821. In 
 1843 he came to Lee Center liiLending to practice uiedicine, but as the 
 people of those early days were more ready to invest their all in land in 
 lieu of pills and powilers, he joined the mass and purchased a great amount 
 of land. In 1854, despairing of a railroad, he sold out for a pittance and 
 returned east. Tlie next year the railroad was laid out, and land rose 
 beyond all precedent. In March, 1855, lie was married at the residence 
 of his brother, Ur. N. W. Smith, of Wilmington, Vermont, to Harriet W. 
 White, of Erving, Massachusetts. After traveling through Vermont, 
 Massachusetts and New York, he came to New Boston, Illinois, the fol- 
 lowing October, where he remained for three and a lialf years, ile then 
 came to Lee county, where he resided until his decease, which occurred 
 in Aml)oy, January 9, 1886, having been crippled, and in poor health for 
 twenty-ttve years. In his last, lingering illness, his mind often reverted 
 to the old pioneer friends and the trials they liad shared together. When 
 hauling grain to Chicago they would camp out, sleeping under their 
 wagons, as hotel fare would liave cost the price of their loads. He and 
 Deacon Jomithan Peterson and Joseph Eddy were the only Republicans 
 in Lee Center and vicinity, to call a caucus, when a gang of roughs at- 
 tempted to break up the meeting; but he and Mr. Eddy went out and 
 soon restored order among the belligerants. So from small beginnings 
 mighty revolutions are wrought. 
 
 Mr. Smith left a wife, five sons and one daughter, his oldest married 
 daughter having preceded him eleven months to the spirit land. His 
 oldest son. Oren 10.- settled in Wendell, Kansas, Newman W. on the 
 
 — 138 — 
 
home farm, Fannie Jane married in Chicago, Abram L. in Lee county, 
 George A. resides witii liis mother in Amboy, Jolin E. E. is a resident of 
 Amboy. 
 
 It is not undue commendation to say of Mrs. Smith, who was an edu- 
 cated teacher in New England, that slie is one who would justly remind 
 one of the words — 
 
 " Full many a gem of purest ray serene 
 
 The dark unfalhomed caves of ocean bear; 
 Full many a flower is born to blush unseen 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
 And yet her excellences are not wasted or lost but garnered up in the 
 hearts of loving friends, a most devoted son, and in the archives of 
 eternity. 
 
 John H. Gardner came west in 1844, with his wife and three children, 
 from Steuben county. New York, and bought of Ransom Barnes the farm 
 in this township now owned by Sylvester Chamberlin. Mr. Gardner sold 
 it to Isaac Gage and bought where his son John M. now lives in Lee 
 Center. While still a young man he buried his wife, and was left with 
 five children, one an infant, five days old. Mrs. Gardner died November 
 19, 1849, aged 32 years. He struggled on and in due time secured a reward 
 for his labors and privations in a fine competency, after giving his chil- 
 dren many advantages. 
 
 The oldest child, Robert M. Gardner, was born August 7, 1839, and 
 died June 26, 1860. John M., the second son, lives on the old homestead 
 in Lee Center. He is a useful and reliable man, well read on all subjects, 
 trusted and depended upon by all who know him; has been supervisor in 
 his town for years — married Miss Alice L. Clapp. Lucy E. Gardner is a 
 valued resident of Amboy. Nancy E. married Thomas Houghton. They 
 have one daughter, Lucy Emma, educated at Rockford Seminary. Mr. 
 Houghton is freight agent at the Illinois Central railway station, and 
 never fails to look after the interests of the companj as if they were his 
 own; is faithful in all his duties, in small as well as in large things. He 
 was a soldier in tlie late war, and was wounded for life. EmmaL. married 
 Henry C. Bond and lives in South Bend, Indiana. Malvina married Henry 
 Maynard and lives in Harvey, Illinois. 
 
 Mr. Gardner died September 11, 1871, aged 62 years. He was a singu- 
 larly straightforward man, owed no man anything and "his word was as 
 good as his bond." His children are proud of his memory. He would be 
 proud of his children were he living. 
 
 — 139 — 
 
It is impossible Lo malve as extended mention as the subject deserves 
 of Martin Wri^rbt, one (tf the early settlers of what is now Araboy town- 
 ship but so near Lee Center that his interests have always been more 
 closely connected with the latter place. Mr. Wright was a typical New 
 Englander, firm in principle, upright in life, and unflinching in adherence 
 to duty. We have not been able to learn at what time he came west, but 
 know that he was one of those who aided in establishing the Congrega- 
 tional church, and the Academy in Lee Center, being one of the first, if 
 not the very first of its Trustees. His first wife was a daughter of Dea- 
 con Ransom Barnes, and died in the summer of 1860, leaving a daughter. 
 Helen, now the wife of Curtis C. Hale and residing in Iowa. His second 
 wife was Miss Eliza Clapp and she survives him. His pleasant hon)e was 
 swept away by the terrible tornado of 1860, V»ut he rebuilt on the same 
 spot, and liv^d there until his death about ten years since. It is now the 
 home of Mr. Sylvester Clapp. 
 
Tfie Hafe Pam^f^. 
 
 IN or near the year 1845 David and Jesse Hale, brothers of Mrs. Wasson, 
 came to Temperance Hill; a younger brother, Alva, following in the 
 fall of 1845. Jesse and Alva had adjoining farms, now owned by Rus- 
 sell Leak. David married Rhoda Skinner. Their children were Au- 
 rilla, Ira, Chester, Priscilla, Betsy and llhoda Jane. Mr. Hale was noted 
 for his integrity. He and his l)rother Jesse were soldiers in the war of 
 1812. He died April 16, 1878; Mrs. Hale Oct. 15, 1874. 
 
 Jesse Hale married Mary McKiine. Their children were Silas, Julius, 
 Charles, Franklin, Tyler, Robert, Tamar, Anna, Elizabeth and Hester. 
 Mrs. Hale was the beloved "Aunt Polly Hale" of all the neighbors far 
 and near; the friend in sickness and sorrow as well as in joy, and a de- 
 voted wife and mother. She brought the seeds of flowers and herbs from 
 her old home and shared them with her friends, and made the herbs use- 
 ful to the suffering pioneers. Three of her sons gave their lives to their 
 country. Frank, lieutenant in the 12th Illinois, was killed at Corinth. 
 Tyler, a captain in the same regiment, was killed at Fort Donelson. 
 Capt. Robert, of the 75th Illinois, was killed in July, 1865, while on duty 
 for a sick officer whose place he volunteered to till. Elizabeth, the only 
 surviving daughter, who lives in Missouri, is remembered still 1)V her old 
 neighbors with gratitude and affection. 
 
 Alva married Clara Rouse and lived in Sublette. Children: Oliver, 
 Jesse, William, Stalira, Lydia, Betsy and Eunice. Two sons were in the 
 army — viz., William, sergeant in Co. C, 13th Illinois Volunteers, and 
 Jesse in 89th Illinois. William served several years and was wounded. 
 He is well known in Amboy, is a prominent member of the Episcopal 
 Church, a kind neighbor, and has been, for many years, a faithful and 
 efficient conductor on the I. C. R. 11. 
 
 Mr. Alva Hale died April 18th, 1882— his wife the 11th of January. 
 1880. He was a genial man and never sick until the sickness preceding 
 his death. He possessed remarkable energy in his old age. Sept. 30th, 
 1871, he, with his brother David, started for Missouri to visit a brother. 
 
 — 141 — 
 
On returning^, David proceeded to Naiivoo to visit his sister Emma, 
 while Alva came directly home. Arriving at Mendota and the train for 
 Sublette not being due, he started home with satchel and gun, walking 
 all the distance without apparent fatigue. 
 
 There were three brothers and three sisters of the Hale family living 
 in this vicinity, all greatly respected. Alva, Jesse and David Hale, 
 and Mrs. Benjamin Wasson, Mrs. Morse and Mrs. Joseph Smith; 
 the latter not a resident of Lee county. The following extract from an 
 article written by Mr. David Hale, and published in one of the Amboy 
 papers. May, 1876, is worthy of presivation. 
 
 I, David Hale, was born March 6, 1794, in what is now Oakland, on 
 the Great Bend of the Susquehanna River, near where the Susquehanna 
 depot is now built, on the New York railroad, Susquehanna county, Pa. 
 First settler, my father, Isaac Hale, with my Uncle Nathaniel Lewis and 
 their wives emigrated from Vermont to Pennsylvania in 1790. 
 
 I joined the Methodist Episcopal church at the age of seventeen years. 
 I was enrolled in the Pennsylvania malitia at the age of eighteen. In 
 1812 I was a drafted malitia man; in 1814 joined Col. Daniel Montgomery's 
 regiment that was ordered to march and defend Baltimore; but we met 
 an express with orders for Col. Montgomery to discharge his men, which 
 he did; peace soon followed. 
 
 In 1823, I married Rhoda Skinner; my age twenty-nine years and hers 
 nineteen. We had two sons and three daughters. We moved to Lee 
 county, Illinois, in 1847. During the summer of 1847 we lived with 
 brother Jesse Hale, in the Temperance Hill settlement, where we found 
 Uncle Nathaniel Lewis and wife (who emigrated with my father and 
 mother from Vermont to Pennsylvania in 1790), with all his family except 
 Nathaniel C, who came after awhile, viz: Six sons and six daughters: 
 while ray father's family numbered six sons and four daughters. Brother 
 Alva Hale was here with his family of three sons and four daughters. 
 My wife's brother, AlpheusG. Skinner, was there with his family of three 
 sons and three daughters. Between Temperance Hill and Rocky Ford 
 lived Francis North way and family and Elder Joseph Gardner and family: 
 next Reuben Bridgman and family; next Curtis Bridgman and family; 
 next John C. Church and family; next Cyrus Davis and family; next Jo- 
 seph Farwell and family; next Joel Davis and family; next Joseph Apple- 
 ton and family; next Shelburn; Frederick R. Dutcher and family, with 
 Widow Hook and her sons, John and Aaron and their families. On the 
 Crombie Lane lived Lyman Bixby, Wilder Crombie, Samuel Bixby, David 
 
 — 142 — 
 
Searles, Moses Cronibie; west of the lane lived Orres Adaais; Lorenzo 
 Wasson's farm, a quarter of a section; west of this Benjamin Wasson, 
 father of Lorenzo, owned a (luarter section with good house and barn and 
 the land well improved. At Binghampton I found two old acquaint- 
 ances, Col. Badger and Asa B. Searles, for over fifty years ago we were 
 pilots on the Susquehatina River. At Inlet lived Esquire Haskell, who 
 kept a store and the postoffice. East of Palestine Grove lived Dr. R. F. 
 Adams and C. F. Ingals, well known in the time of the Grove Association 
 for the protection of claims. But after awhile this passed away and the 
 township organizations came up, of which some abler pen than mine may 
 or can write. 
 
 Had Mr. Hale passed on one road further west he would have men- 
 tioned Mr. Seth Holmes, Mr. Eiijali Hill and Mr. Warren Hill, all excel- 
 ler)t citizens who, with tlieii' families, were a benefit to the town. 
 
 Mr. Holmes had seven children, Mary Jane, wife of Cyrus l.iridgman,^ 
 Demmis H., wife of Henry Gushing, Isaac A., James W., Warren H., Al- 
 mira and Jacob C. 
 
 James W. was one of the Hrst volutiteers in Co. 1, 46th Illinois Regi- 
 ment. He fought at Dntielsdri and Sliiloh, was in the siege of Corinth 
 and the battle of H;itcliic hikI the siege of VicUsburg, where he was 
 wounded and taken prisoner, lie was discharged Dec. 1863 on account of 
 his wound, leaving ;i noble record as ;i gallant defender of the flag of our 
 Union. All the cliildrcii but Is;iac, .lames, Jacob and Mis. Cnsiiing have 
 joined theirpaiciits '.n l be other siioie. Mr. and Mrs. Waireii Mill, and 
 Mr. Elijah Hill Imvc ;il>o passed away. 
 
 Mr. Moses Crombie was l)oin in Cheshire (Joiint,y, New Hampsiiire. in 
 1804, was married to Miss Louisa .Mrnse, a native of the same state, in 
 1828, and moved lo Lee County in 1837. While living here he was one of 
 those engaged in work on the Hrst plows mamifaclured in Lee County. 
 His home was where Mr. Williatn Acker now lives, his brother, Wilder 
 Crombie, living on the same road, which ever since has borne the name 
 of Crombie Lane. Mr. atid Mrs. Crctmbie were useful citizens, and their 
 memory will live as the generations pass away. Mrs. Croml)ie opened a 
 school in her house before any school house was built, and "was like a 
 mother"' to her pupils, who rememl)er her with affection. Among her 
 scholars were Roxy Wasson (afterwards Mrs. Simon Badger), Warren 
 Wasson, Lewis Bridgman. Sally Bridgman, Emily Bridgman, Sarah 
 and Rowena Badger, Mary and Clara Frisbee, her own sons. Thaddeus 
 and John, and two little girls, Delilah and Rhoda (last name forgotten.) 
 
 — 14.3 — 
 
The little Frisbee girls were carried to school every Monday morning and 
 sent for Friday night. Mrs. Frisbee sent with them a basket of roast 
 chicken, doughnuts, pies, etc., and they sat at the table with the family 
 through the week, exchanging the good things of life and partaking of 
 Mrs. Crombie's warm food with her children. Mrs. Clara (Frisbee) Davis 
 speaks now with enthusiasm of Mrs. Crombie's motherly care; of the 
 kindness, friendship, and hospitality among tlie people; of the good they 
 were ever doing each other without money, if not always without price. 
 
 Mrs. Crombie taught every useful thing to her little flock, not neglect- 
 ing knitting and sewing. Among the books used were Webster's Ele- 
 mentary Spelling Book, Olney's Geography, History of the United States, 
 Common Arithmetic and Grammar. But few as charming reminiscences 
 have been related as those of Mrs. Crombie's home school for her own 
 and her neighbor's children, before "the first log school house" was built 
 in 1839. 
 
 At this same home, on July 5th, 1843, the first religious society here 
 was organized, called "The Congregational Church of Palestine Grove." 
 Mr. Crombie was chosen one of the deacons. The first minister was Rev. 
 John Morrell, the second Rev. John Ingersoll, father of Robert G., the 
 third Rev. Joseph Gardner. 
 
 Samuel L. Pyle came to Amboy from New Jersey in 1845, and bought 
 of the government 160 acres of land in the western part of the township. 
 A son-in-law, P. Battles, now owns the place. "The Wood Hotel" 
 painted on a sign in front of Mr. Pyle's house, brought to his door many 
 farmers who stopped with him on their way to and from LaSalle, where 
 they went to market their produce. 
 
 Through Mrs. Pyle's efforts a Sunday School was opened at her home, 
 where, during the summer months, children received religious instruc- 
 tion. Mrs. Pyle was a most estimable woman. There was a large family 
 of boys and girls, all highly respected, who married, one after another, 
 and moved away. The old couple spent their latter days in the city of 
 Amboy. 
 
 Samuel Bixby came here in 1844 from Hornby, New York, and was 44 
 years old. His bell-crowned white hat and dialect proclaimed the genu- 
 ine Yankee. He was born and reared in Vermont. He purchased a 
 claim of Rev. Joseph Gardner and is still living on it, his house being 
 on Crombie Lane, while Mr. Gardner's was on .another part of this farm. 
 
 — 144 — 
 
Mr. and Mrs. Bixby were excellent people. They had four children. 
 When they first came they united with the Baptist Church and he is now 
 the only living representative of that early association. His house was 
 the stopping place for pioneer ministers and they were always given good 
 cheer. His first wife, who was familiarly known to the neighbors as 
 "Aunt Lucretia," died many years ago, but her good influence still lives. 
 Mr. Bixby is enjoying his ripe old age in the society of his second wife, 
 who was formerly Mrs. Elijah Hill. 
 Lyman Bixby came the same year. 
 
 Mrs. McKune gives^us^the following story of her pioneer experiences, 
 which, written by one nearly^eighty-two years old, is a veritable "old set- 
 tler's story." She says: 
 
 "My husband, Hezekiah McKune, with myself and four children, left 
 our native home in Susquehanna, {Pennsylvania, June 10th, 1845. We 
 came to Binghampton, New York; from there we took passage on a canal 
 boat for Utica, thence to Buffalo, from there by steamer to Chicago, 
 where we were met by a man by the name of Peterson from Palestine 
 Grove, our place of destination, in this country. 
 
 "Mr. Peterson had two yoke of oxen and a wagon. We had four 
 wagons, and purchased a pair of oxen, andaafter four days travel we 
 reached our home, which we bad traded for. It was a log house with 
 lean-to and attic, which we reached by climbing on pegs driven into the 
 wall. We could count stars through jthe roof; sometimes as many as 
 twenty at a time. 
 
 "On our trip I sometimes got tired of riding, and would walk until a 
 rattlesnake would buzz across my path, then I would take my place in 
 the wagon again. I saw one rattlesnake crawl through the floor of our 
 house, it was a small one and I killed the intruder. 
 
 "We had the usual amount of sickness and privation incident to a 
 new country. Three times we took families in to live with us, of from 
 three to six in number, who stayed as many months apiece. We enter- 
 tained ministers, travelers and tramps, and as we were on the road from 
 Dixon to Peru it was a convenient stopping place. I recollect several of 
 those early settlers who used to call at our house; among the most note- 
 worthy were Dr. Gardner and Rev. DeWolf, as they were hauling onions 
 and other produce to Peru. 
 
 "We had no great trouble with wolves, although when Mr. McKune 
 was returning one evening from helping a neighbor butcher, they came 
 
 — 145 — 
 
so close to him he could hear them breathe and snap, but he hung on to 
 the liver he was carrying, and reached home safely with no further 
 trouble. 
 
 "I am now in my eighty-second year and have survived my entire 
 family except one, my only daughter, Mrs. Thayer." 
 
 KEMINISCJENCE FROM DR. WM. WALLACE WELCH. 
 
 "The sun was tipping the western horizon and I was starting tor further 
 west from the Davis house. Somewhere between there and J. B. Apple- 
 ton's, not far from where the Passenger house stood afterwards, and 
 where the present Illinois Central railroad depot now stands, there was 
 a bad slough, a rather broad, treacherous place to cross that looked dan- 
 gerous. But in those days we had to take a good many risks, and I 
 started in— very unwisely as it proved. The horse went in, out of sight, 
 all but his head and neck. Though summer, the water was very cold, 
 being a spring, and I had to be active to contrive to get him out before 
 he should become weakened, or perish. It was beyond call of anybody 
 and soon would be dark. I was alone and '•something had to be done 
 pretty quick." I got out liorse and buggy too: no t)eed of detailing how 
 it was contrived, but 1 had no help. Most of us in those times, were often 
 forced to be "a law unto ourselves." I knew good men, pioneers then, 
 who became wonderfully self-reliant, forced to it by overmastering cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 ANOTHER REMINISCENCE. 
 
 Mrs. Wasson was full of energy, determination and fertility of resource 
 in trying situations— the very woman for pioneering. In the early days 
 fresh meat was furnished to a neiglii)orhood by "changing around." One, 
 when about to "kill a critter." would notify in advance, and when butcher- 
 ed, the meat would be distril)uted in proper proportions to different 
 families, according to size. One winter morning, Mr. Wasson (Uncle 
 Ben) and the boys, Lorenzo, Harmon and Warren were about to start 
 "down into Palestine" with tlie ox-sled "to get up wood." Mrs. Wasson, 
 somewhat emphatically told them she was "out of meat and she had got 
 to have a hog killed before they started into the woods." (Nothing about 
 dressing.) They caught the hog, "stuck" and bled it to death, flung i^ 
 into the kitchen and started for the woods. When they got in from 
 their work there was waiting for them a good meal of fresh pork, cooked 
 in acceptable manner, served with vegetable accompaniments. Mrs. 
 Wasson was famous for keeping up a good garden. She was, as I can 
 
 — 146 - 
 
testify, a most estimable, judicious woman; indeed of all the typical 
 pioneer women of the early settlement 'round about Amboy township' 
 there was no more compendious, representative woman, whose own per- 
 sonal history was almost the history of the region itself, than Mrs. Benja- 
 min Wasson; and I personally know she was good. She was a joyful pres" 
 ence at the bridal, an angel of mercy at tlie bedside of the dying. There 
 was no trouble within her range, she was not ready as far as possible to 
 alleviate." 
 
 Frank Northway and family came here in 1844 from Steuben county. 
 New York, and took up a claim two miles north of Amboy. Ilis house 
 stood in the track of the cyclone of 1861 and was torn to pieces, his family 
 almost miraculously escaping death. Some years ago the family moved 
 to Chicago, where Mr. Northway died at a good old age. His wife and 
 daughters still reside there. 
 
 FIRST FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION. 
 
 Patriotism, the memory of the way the Glorious Fourth was observed 
 at the old home in the eastern states, and the love of a good time gener- 
 ally, constrained our pioneer friends to celebrate the day in this place. 
 If we are overstepping the boundary of 1845 by two or three years, we 
 trust our friends of The Club will forgive us, since it was the ^rsi— and all 
 the .yij-s« there ever will be— which was observed within this township, 
 and most of those who took part in it have passed away or are pressing 
 hard upon the unseen boundary line. 
 
 Some of the good people of "Inlet" joined in the celebration with 
 ready heart and willing hands, rendering such aid as to insure success. 
 Dr. Welch, then a young man of enthusiasm and great executive ability, 
 did much to make it what it was — a most satisfactory and delightful oc- 
 casion. The people met in the Wasson School House, where, after reli- 
 gious exercises and music, Rev, James Brewer delivered the oration. 
 
 The choir was made up of Dr. Welch, Rev. .lames and Deacon Ira 
 Brewer, Mrs. Brewer, Mrs. Welch, Miss Pratt and Misses Sarah and 
 Rowena Badger — Deacon Farwell adding the music of his violin. 
 
 Mr. Brewer, in his address, dwelt upon the advantages and beneficient 
 working of our government as established V)y ourselves to satisfy the de- 
 mands of our circumstances and needs as a people. He compared the 
 heavy burdens of taxation and labor resting on the populations of other 
 and what were considered the most favored people of other lands; of the 
 shameless extravagance of wealthy and titled classes, as witnessed by the 
 
 — 147 — 
 
suffering poor of those lands, etc., with the freedom and the compari- 
 tively happy condition of the people of this land. Deacon Farwell, as one 
 of a committee, asked it for publication, but Mr. Brewer modestly de- 
 clined the honor. 
 
 The choir sang "with spirit and with the understanding'" "The break- 
 ing waves dashed high," "My country, 'tis of thee," and the following 
 hymn to the tune of Dart: 
 
 "God bless our Native Land, 
 Firm may she ever stand 
 
 Through storm and night; 
 When the wild tempests rave, 
 Ruler of wind and wave. 
 Do Thou our country save 
 
 By Thy great might. 
 
 For her our prayers shall rise 
 To God above the skies; 
 
 On Him we wait. 
 Thou, who art ever nigh. 
 Guarding witli watchful eye. 
 To Thee aloud we cry 
 
 God save the state! " 
 
 A bountiful and delicious dinner had been prepared, to be served in a 
 charming spot under the shade of large trees on the banks of Green 
 River, near the Binghampton bridge and Plow factory. All the ladies in 
 the vicinity had l)een notified, '"and many, like the Badgers and Wassoiis, 
 were paragon caterers and cooks." Mrs. Welch and lier sister, Mrs. Has- 
 kell, roasted a pig, too large to go in an ordinary stove oven, so each 
 roasted a half, fitting each half skillfully together when served. Dr. 
 Welch contributed a large quantity of delicious peas. Mrs. Jonathan 
 Peterson, the champion biscuit maker, furnished biscuits, butter, and 
 honey, and others furnished chickens and various other dainties. The 
 tables were spread with the cleanest and whitest of table cloths brought 
 from the family stores of New England, New York and Pennsylvania. 
 
 Grace was asked by a Free Will Baptist minister, Mr. Chamberlain, of 
 Inlet. Mr. Warren Badger was toast-master. Squire Haskell's toast is 
 the only one remembered — "Thespiritof '76! It has kept well for seventy- 
 two years; and is good proof yet, thank (Jodl and please Him it will pre- 
 serve Its strength and purity untold ages yet to come! " 
 
 Dr. Welch pronounced the speeches, toasts and rssponses equal to 
 any he had ever heard in Buffalo, New York, his eastern home, and the 
 dinner a sumptuous banquet. 
 
 — 148 — 
 
Rev. Jas. Brewer writes: "We were Itidependent of Oranges Groves 
 or Oyster beds. Our ice crearu was in its liquid state, as it always had 
 been. We were in Palestine, yet near to Paradise, and feeling almost as 
 independent as certain ones we read of when they were there. We were 
 a family gathered from the nurth, south and east, and were at the ex- 
 treme west. Not one of us but might boast of the fact that he had by 
 labor earned what he had, and was using, and that he coveted no advan- 
 tage over others which was not justly his own. Each of us saw in every 
 other a brother and a friend. I would go farther to attend another like 
 It than any 1 liave attended for many a year. 
 
 "It has done me good to turn my thoughts for this little while to the 
 'long ago' of my own life and the lives of so many others in your vicinity 
 who were blessed and a blessing while living there, some of wliom — dear 
 friends, may God bless them ever!— still remain, while others have passed 
 into the skies." 
 
QoUG^MJo^lOlfl. 
 
 NO SKETCH of the pioneer women would be just, without linking 
 their names with the tlrst religious services held. Every one will 
 realize how joyfully they would welcome the messenger who brought 
 the glad tidings, and the healing balm from the Great Physician to their 
 lonely lives and weary hearts; how the choicest viands which their cabins 
 could yield, and the best of the flocks from barnyard or tteld would 
 be prepared for the itinerant laborer in the divine work. The bless- 
 ed souls who hunger and thirst after righteousness, and to whom the 
 promise of relief is given, are not found among those who are most ready 
 to wrangle about the form of the cup from which the life-giving draught 
 is partaken. Turn back to the lives of the rtrst women here, in proof of 
 this. 
 
 It is with deep regret that we bring this imperfect sketch of the pion- 
 eer women of Amboy to a close, having left so many of the most beauti- 
 ful lives unmentinned. We leave them with the unfaltering belief that 
 an angels' hand has recorded every gentle deed of every earnest, loving 
 women, whose life may often to herself and to others, appear to have 
 been too much obscured; whose lot in life may have seemed to be cast in 
 a place for which Ileaveti had not designed it. but who will And as the 
 shadows of earth llee away, tliat she had never been forsaken even "for 
 a small moment, and that through the furnace, one had walked beside 
 her "whose form was like the Son of God." 
 
 How many of those sweet women who found it impossible to "realize 
 their ideal" have idealized their "real," and like gentle, stately Deborah 
 Ingals, who prepared and served, in the rude cabin, from a puncheon 
 table with puncheon stools for seats, a repast which was a foretaste of 
 Heaven's banqueting to her loving brothers, and like the aroma of Para- 
 dise in their memories for more than fifty years afterwards, have dis- 
 pensed hospitality with refinement, and cultivated the most beautiful 
 graces of womanhood, as truly and effectually as can be given now amid 
 the rich supplies and the formalities and fashions of later years. The 
 
 - 150 — 
 
self-respect, and the giving of reverence due to others, the gentle cour- 
 tesies and kindly acts V)etween feilow-uiortals are not dependant for their 
 loveliness upon the latest fashion and the silver plate. The more simple 
 the more heavenly. That "Heaven lies about us in our infancy" is not 
 more true of individuals than ot settlements and townships and nations. 
 The ox-cart for a chariot, the dry goods box or the crockery crate for a 
 sleigh, holds more smiling and happy, loving faces than the thousand 
 dollar coupe or the escutcheoned brougham. " We are but children of a 
 larger growth " and like the boy astride a stick for a prancing steed, and 
 the little girl with a row of corn cobs for her Sunday school class, imagin- 
 ation has greater room for play, and contentment i> more sure than when 
 the ideal is realized in the things that man or woman can form. It is 
 from such facts that we learn to know indeed that " The beings of the 
 mind are not of clay," that nothing t)f earth can satisfy the soul. 
 
 One of the first settlers in this vicinity, of whom it may almost be 
 said his "eye is not dim nor his natural force-abated," although more than 
 seventy-six years have rolled over his head, says: "The women of those 
 early day were usually serisilile, plain, industrious, economical and un- 
 complaitjing. Their family cares and daily duties appeared to be their 
 continual recreation. Domestic happiness was the rule. Conjugal di- 
 vorce was unthought of. 'Is marriage a failure' none but a lunatic would 
 inquire about. In those days the aid of every member was essential to 
 family success. The people were too poor to afford war with their friends. 
 If happiness, as many claim, is the only human good, how does the case 
 now stand? The human family have more wisdom, but some ask, "Is it 
 not folly to be wise." In those dnys labor and capital had no controversy. 
 Acquisitiveness is the lion faculty of our age. Why will sensible people 
 be so foolish? 
 
 Assemblies of the people enacted local civil laws, ' Vox impidi, Vox DeV 
 (The voice of the people is the voice of God), being the controlling spirit. 
 It was enacted that all the controversies might i)e submitted to a board 
 of three men regularly elected annually, from whose verdict there was 
 but one appeal, viz: To the People assembled in Grove meetings. Thus 
 the time, expense and annoyance of the 'law's delays' so much in vogue 
 today were all avoided. Tiie salary of i.his unpretentious court was voted 
 to be $1.00 each per day. .Justice and e(iuit,y were, in those days, more 
 highly esteemed than technicalities of statutes or even common law. In 
 cases of assault where both men appeared to be in fault, it has been 
 known that both plaint iff and defendant were fined alike, with popular 
 ai)pi()val." 
 
 — 151 — 
 
For eighteen years the settlement made small progress, and good wild 
 land was still to be obtained at $1.25 per acre. Then came, in 1854, the 
 Illinois Central railroad which gave business and emigration an impetus 
 which has continued with more or less activity until the present time. 
 
 As late as 1857 there was scarcely a farm south and west of the city 
 fenced in, and one could drive miles west from Amboy with not a house 
 in view, save two or three against the distant horizon, like ships far out 
 at sea. A poclcet compass is treasured now, the size of a watch, which 
 was used in those days by a physician to find the most direct bearing 
 toward some settlers' houses to be visited. No tree or fence or stone was 
 to be seen, only wagon tracks in every direction; and the howling of 
 wolves was no unusual sound on winter nights out on the prairie. 
 
 In summer the vast expanse of "living green,'' the lonliness and 
 silence, as the traveler rode over the plain, all combined to awaken a 
 sense of sublimity kindred to that aroused by the grandeur of the ocean. 
 Then, after the long, still ride in the sunshine and wind, the grazing cat- 
 tle, and the tinkling bells of flocks and herds would herald the human 
 habitation. Will any one who has heard them in the first great despair 
 of homesickness, ever forget the sound of those tinkling bells as their 
 strange music fell upon the listening ear; when the bright sunshine and 
 peaceful herds were so discordant with the sad harpings within the soul? 
 But homesickness is not incurable. 
 
Tfie Git^ o^ :fim%(D)^. 
 
 LEE COUNTY is divided into twenty-two townships, each town have- 
 ing an average of 23,040 acres. 
 
 Amboy is the central town, the exact geographical center being 
 in a grove of locust trees on the farm of William Acker, once the home of 
 Deacon Moses Crombie, three-fourths of a mile northeast of the C, B. & 
 Q. railroad station. 
 
 The Illinois Central railroad passes through the town from southeast 
 to northwest, and it is known that freight trains can be brought into 
 Amboy from each direction with less steam power than is required to 
 carry out the same. This has ffiven the impression that Amboy is a "low 
 countrie." The civil engineer of the northern division of the Illinois 
 Central railroad company located here, F. R. Doty, has furnished the 
 the following statistics of the survey along the line of the railroad through 
 Lee county, the Ohio river at Cairo, at low water mark being the base of 
 measurement. Sublette is 178 feet higher than Amboy, Eldena is 60 feet 
 higher, while beautiful Dixon is 54 feet lower. Resting between these 
 two elevations, with a declivity so gentle as to be unobservable and un- 
 known to many of her inhabitants, lie her prairies and groves and homes. 
 Sublette and Eldena stretch their protecting arms southeast and north- 
 west, and how much Amboy is indebted to them for deliverence from 
 tornadoes and the destruction thence, we can never know. Physicians 
 pronounce this a healthy locality. 
 
 Amboy township was incorporated in the winter of 1854-5, and the 
 charter for a city in 1857 was laid before the legislature by John B. Wy- 
 raan, Wra. E. Ives and J. V. Judd, a committee chosen for that purpose. 
 It was enacted and approved February 16, 1857, and adopted at an elec- 
 tion on the 2nd of March. 
 
 John B. Wyman was the first mayor. The city has just held an elec- 
 tion, and this Columbian year of 1893 which dawned with Capt. Geo. E. 
 Young as mayor, witnesses the incoming of Dr. C. E. Wilcox, with the 
 following aldermen: 
 
 — 153 — 
 
First Ward— C. H. Long, Lewis Entorf, W. T. Sinitli. 
 
 Second Ward — W. V. lieresford, Isaac Edwards, Heriuan Penne- 
 backer. 
 
 Third Ward— I. R. Patterson, J'rank Egan, Chas. Keifer. 
 
 Marslial — Joiin H. Harvey. 
 
 Night Police — Thomas Monahan. 
 
 City Attorney — Charles H. Wooster. 
 
 Treasurer — M. Carroll. 
 
 Police Magistrate — Thomas Hines. 
 
 City Clerk— M. J. Monahan. 
 
 The township supervisor is A. J. Tompkins. 
 
 Amboy has two weekly newspapers published here, viz: The Amboy 
 Journal, editor, Geo. A. Lyman, and the Nmis, editor, James H. Preston. 
 
 The first editor of the first newspaper published in Amboy was Augus- 
 tus Noel Dickens, youngest brother of the author, Charles Dickens. It 
 was called the Lee County Times. 
 
 There are seven houses of worship and nine church organizations. 
 The Congregational church, pastor, Rev. Mr. Dickerman; Baptist, Rev. 
 Mr. Mason; Methodist Episcopal church. Rev. Mr. Moriey; Catholic, Rev. 
 Father Lonergan; Episcopal, Rev. Mr. Sweetland; Lutheran, — United 
 Bretheran — Advent,— Latter Day Saints. 
 
 There are four school houses, ten teachers, three assistants and (445) 
 four hundred and forty-Hve pupils. 
 
 Mr. I. V. Edwards, superintendent. 
 
 Miss Anna Wartiick, principal. 
 
 Miss B. Woods, grammar department. 
 
 Miss L. Merrow, assistant. 
 
 Mr. P. C. Deming, grammar department. 
 
 Miss C. Poland, assistant. 
 
 Misses M. Campbell, J. Carroll and J. Curtin, intermediate depart- 
 ments. 
 
 Misses A. Carson, L. Morris, M. Sparks and Mrs. F. Jewett, primary 
 departments. 
 
 The Illinois Central railroad company's shops, and the offices of the 
 Northern Division, located here, bring to the town monthly payments of 
 ($25,000) twenty-live thousand dollars. There is a co-operative creamery, 
 tile factory, etc., etc. A beautiful park of twenty-five acres, shaded by 
 stately trees, with a iialf mile driving course adjoins the city on the 
 eastern limits. Amboy rejoices in a band which discourses music, always 
 
 — 154 — 
 
welcome to old and young, to the sad as well as the fjay. We append the 
 names of the "lioys." 
 
 Fred J. Blocher, leader; William Keho, Jean Wamsley, Conrad Asch- 
 enbrenner, Frank Blocher, Edward Thomas, Fred Wohnke, Percy Dem- 
 ing, Henry Maus, Ed, Staup, C. Gilbert Emery, Hugh Carroll, Frank 
 Fehr, Cornelius W. Maine, Henry Wilson. 
 
 The location of the town is excellent for those desiring to engage in 
 the manufacturing business, as a direct outlet by rail in four different 
 directions, intersecting all other main lines in the state are available 
 within a few rods of vacant city property; the Illinois Central railroad 
 and Chicago Burlington & Quincy railroad crossing here. The engraving 
 of the Illinois Central railroad depot and the company's offices is a correct 
 representation of the building which occupies the site of the old Passen- 
 ger House, the three story brick building with dome which was once the 
 central building and pride of the citv. Efforts have been made to obtain 
 a picture of it but none was found. It was destroyed by fire November 
 15, 1875. 
 
 Amboy has been devasted by fire once and again, but it was restored 
 and improved by the destructive visitation. One heavy cloud has hung 
 over it, and it is not yet entirely dispelled. When in its youthful lux- 
 uriance and greatest prosperity, a railroad tax was voted upon it which 
 has curtailed its resources and prevented its development. It is now 
 being steadily diminished. Let us hope that, like some of our city trees 
 which have been trimmed on every bough and branch and limb until 
 people cried "it is ruined," but which now stand Arm and symmetrical, 
 resisting every gale, Amboy will emerge from the trial, stronger and 
 wiser and better for the struggle. 
 
 An artesian well has been added to the city, and though its water may 
 not flow from 
 
 "Where Alph, the sacred river ran, 
 In caverns measureless to man," 
 
 Yet it is considered excellent water by those who use it, and it comes 
 from a depth of over 2000 feet. Amboy has excellent bridges and side- 
 walks, good streets, macadamized in part, and well cared for: and adjacent 
 stone quarries. Her streets are beautifully shaded, in some places em- 
 bowered; all lighted with electric lights suspended aloft at every corner, 
 and like the Star of Bethlehem "go before" the traveller all the way. 
 
 So may that Star indeed pioneer us all the way, until it shall stand 
 over the open Gates of that "strong city" where "the righteous nation 
 which keepeth the truth may enter in." 
 
 — 155 — 
 

From <Mr^. G^ry, 
 
 WE received the following pleasant account of the early settlers 
 of Alto township through the efforts of Mrs. George Gary, who 
 is, in turn, indebted to Mrs. Charles R. Hall for it. She writes: 
 
 "My deceased husband and myself came to what is now known as 
 Alto township, then a part of Willow Creek, to make it our home, in May, 
 1855. Mr. Hall was through the township for the first time at Christmas 
 of 1851, and at that time there were but two families in the township 
 now called Alto. They were John Grimes, who settled at 'Plum Thicket,' 
 and Jedediah Loverldge, one mile west, just south of the present town of 
 Steward. In 1855 families had multiplied to at least half a dozen, whose 
 names as I now remember them were Esquire Holcomb, wife, son and 
 daughter; Mr. Williams, wife and fourteen children; Josiah Carpenter 
 with his mother and sisters; Mr. and Mrs. Mills, the only member of the 
 family now living in the township. 
 
 '•A school house was built on a site across from the cemetery in Stew- 
 ard in the summer of '56 and the following winter the first school was 
 taught by Miss Carrie Whitcomb. The year following Miss Addie Rey- 
 nolds was the teacher. During the summer of '57 we held our first meet- 
 ings in the new school house, and during the next year a society of the 
 M. E. Church was formed, consisting of seven or eight members. 
 
 "Our eldest son, Irving E. Hall, died in April. 1857, in his fourth year, 
 and his was the first death and burial in Alto township, though several 
 others soon followed. 
 
 "My husband and myself, with our family, lived in Alto until May, 
 1866, when we moved to the adjoining county of Ogle, where we have 
 since resided. Our pioneering was very different from that of the set- 
 tlers in the older townships, but it may be of interest to know who were 
 first in Alto. Mrs. Arian C. Hall. 
 
BETSY (BLANCHARD) GRIMES. 
 
Bsts^ (BfaT2G^8Lr3) Grirr2©;s. 
 
 BETSY BLANCHARD was born at Attleborough, Mass., June 21st, 
 1794, and was united in marriage to John Grimes on June 17, 1818. 
 
 Born and raised in the primitive log cabin, she was of the sturdy 
 stock of the pioneer, and well fitted by nature and by disposition for the 
 vicissitudes and trials of those early days. She removed to Illinois in 
 1842, her husband locating for a brief period at Oregon, Ogle county, re- 
 moving to Plum Thicket, in Alto township, Lee County, in 1847, where 
 she resided until the day of her death, March 1st, 1872. 
 
 She was a very energetic woman, and aside from performing the press- 
 ing household duties, incident to pioneer days, she reared a family of ten 
 children, seven boys and three girls. 
 
 Widely known and universally respected she died regretted by a wide 
 circle of neighbors, who will always remember her friendly offices. 
 

SettfeiT2eT2'lL at iI^ftt0T2. 
 
 IN the year 1835 the first settlers came to this section of Illinois, C. 
 Royce, J. Clark and I. Rosecrans settling north of what is now called 
 Ashton. 
 
 In '38 Andrew Druraruond and John Weatherington, with their fami- 
 lies, came and settled on the west side of Lafayette Grove— came in hig 
 wagons or -'prairie schooners," being about twice the size of a wagon of 
 the present time. These were covered with sheeting and drawn gener- 
 ally by oxen. 
 
 They brought cattle and sheep with them and with cards and spinning 
 wheels came prepared to manufacture their own clothing. Taking their 
 yarn eight miles to a weaver, when some member of the family would 
 work for the weaver to pay for weaving. These pioneer women carded, 
 spun, wove and made into garments for all members of the family. They 
 also made woolen caps for the men in winter and straw hats for summer 
 use from the straw gathered from the wheat fields, which they braided, 
 sewed and shaped with their own hands. An expert could braid and sew 
 one of those hats in a day, which was worth at that time fifty cents. 
 Men's home knit socks sold readily, too, at fifty cents per pair. They 
 raised flax, too, from which they made all their summer clothing. 
 
 The first school was taught in a log house covered with basswood bark. 
 Miss Benedict, now Mrs. Barton Cartwright of Oregon, Ills,, was the 
 teacher. The same house was used as a Methodist Church. The first 
 Christian Church was organized by Elder Walworth in 1841 and services 
 were held in the "big barn" of John Weatherington, which is one of the 
 old landmarks of today. The farm is now owned by Ira Coakly, of Dixon. 
 
 The site of the village of Ashton was known as the "big hill" and is 
 the highest point in Lee County. When the farmers' cattle strayed 
 away they could take a field glass and go to the big hill and view the 
 prairie for miles around. Mr. Erastus Anderson, now living in Ashton, 
 was the first settler in the township, he having settled on a farm in 18-49. 
 He was almost out of the settlements at that time, and there were not 
 many more until about '54, when the railroad was built from Chicago to 
 Dixon; when the company made a station here and called it Ogle Station; 
 when Ashton township soon settled up. 
 
 Mrs. Thomas Walker. 
 — 169 — 
 

Re-CoffectiOT^-s oj^ Bra3j^0r3. 
 
 A SEPARATE history of Brariford before 1845 would be a very lim- 
 ited affair, as the people, with very few exceptions, settled first in 
 and about Inlet. The territory, which is now divided into the 
 townships of Lee, Bradford, Amboy, and China, was known as O^le 
 County. 
 
 We are told that the first settler in Bradford townsnip was Oman 
 Hillison, a Norwegian, and a raan of remarkable courage and ambition. 
 He came to this country alone, walked from New York to Chicago, and 
 when he decided to settle in Bradford, built a sod-house, in which he 
 lived until the '40's. Hiswife, now Mrs. Elizabeth Aschenbrenner, still re- 
 sides upon her farm in Bradford. 
 
 A Mr. Whitmore and Mr. Sherman Shaw are said to have been the 
 first to build houses in this township. Mr. John ITotzel was the first 
 German settler in Bradford, and at his house was organized the German 
 church society, which now worships in the church in Bradford. 
 
 The name of Shaw is found frequently in the list of old settlers, and 
 we are informed that the first house built in Lee Center, proper, was for 
 the first widf)w in the town, Mrs. William Shaw, whose husband, we are 
 told, met with a tragic death. He, with family, started for Mendota in 
 a sleigh; when riearing Sand Grove, just beyond the Inlet, a wolf was seen 
 running over the snow. In drawing up his gun from the sleigh bottom 
 the trigger snapped and the contents of the gun were discharged into his 
 body, causing death in a few hours. 
 
 Many of the name still go in and out among us: many are gone on to 
 the silent land: some of whom won a "good degree" in the trying days 
 of the Rebellion. 
 
 Among those of the descendants who have removed to other states, 
 we had a pleasant word not long sin(;e from William Gardner, son of 
 Joseph Gardner and Hannah Shaw, who assures us that he has not for- 
 gotten his Lee County home and friends. His uncle, John H. Shaw, was 
 
 — 173 — 
 
an officer of the Volunteers. Fortunes have been gathered by some, and 
 younger generations are moving on in the steps of their fathers. 
 
 Mr. Edwin Pomeroy, of Bradford, with John H. Gardner introduced 
 the first reaper in this vicinity. It created great interest all through the 
 farming community and people flocked from all directions to see the first 
 trial of the new machine in a wheat field, owned by Mr. Pomeroy. John 
 H. Gardner, his partner in the enterprise, was not a citizen of Bradford, 
 but of Lee Center, and his son, John M. Gardner, still lives; on the home- 
 stead near the village; though property is still owned by the family in 
 Bradford. 
 
 In one of the hill towns of Massachusetts, just fifty years ago, Mr. 
 Ira Brewer wooed and wedded a maiden, and her name was Mary — Mary 
 Phillips. Then came the wedding journey to the far west, and the selec- 
 tion of a home and the settling therein. The experiences of true pioneer 
 life followed. We are glad to be able to give our readers a few reminis- 
 cences from Mr. Brewer, and to introduce to the public the face of her 
 who has been the guiding star in the lives of her husband and family, 
 Mrs. Mary P. Brewer. Mr. and Mrs. Brewer engaged in and often origi- 
 nated the moral and religious enterprises of that early day. Attending 
 church and Sunday-school, when they owned one horse, Mrs. Brewer 
 would ride the horse while her husband walked by her side, often singing 
 the old songs, "There is a Happy Land, or, 
 
 "I'll awake at dawn, 
 On the Sabbath moi-n, 
 For 'tis wrong to doze 
 Holy time away." 
 
 The knowledge that Mr. Brewer understood music, soon brought to 
 him the opportunity of conducting the first singing-school in Inlet. He 
 was formally appointed to the position in this wise: Dr. Welch hands a 
 subscription to Mr. Brewer, saying, "You are to teach singing-school," 
 Mr. Brewer cogitates: "Well, I guess I know as much about music as any 
 one here, and it will help along as far as it goes — in sociability and in 
 dimes— so I'll try." Then a subscription list was raised in Lee Center for 
 a singing-school, then over in the Wasson school house, until finally Mr. 
 Brewer found himself the singing master in six schools. There was no 
 organ or organist to depend on, which to our modern singers in Israel, 
 would seem an appalling fact, but with the ingenuity born of necessity, 
 Mr. Brewer went into a blacksmith shop, selected his material and ham- 
 mered out a tuning-fork, with which he pitched the key for those old mel- 
 odies which have never died out in the hearts of the singers. Hang, yes, 
 
 — 174 — 
 
hantf up the old tuninj?-fork where the siK'ht of it will bring to mind pic- 
 tures of the time when our parents and grandparents gathered reverently 
 to worship God, in the old log school houses and cabins on the prairies, 
 when the whole family came, moved by the principles which actuated 
 the pilgrim fathers. Pictures of when those whose heads have whitened 
 in the march of time, stood erect in their young man and maidenhood, 
 and sang the songs of Zion, with fervent gratitude for the past and with 
 kindling hopes for the future, when these prairies should rejoice and 
 blossom as the rose. 
 
 Mr. Brewer says: "In giving a history of the early settlement of this 
 county, it seems necessary, in order to do justice, to look at the situation 
 of the county at the time of settlement. We have to remember that the 
 first settlers came here and located on Government lands, and of course 
 all the property that was subject to taxation was what little personal 
 property was owned by the settlers. The laws were inadequate to the 
 circumstances of the people, so that the people had to become a law unto 
 themselves. Hence we see the need of the 'Grove Association,' and the 
 'Society for the Furtherance of the Cause of Justice,' to see that things 
 were done honestly. I could name many of the stern old pioneers who 
 were instrumental in keeping early settlers and tlie affairs of our county 
 in good conditioti. The people saw the necessity of good schools, and 
 that good order should prevail, and in their poverty they determined not 
 to be wiihout. And poverty it was. But few of the settlers had any 
 money — no capital but pluck. Well, the neighborhood west of the pres- 
 ent Lee Center, decided to have a school in the summer of '43. So they 
 met and hauled logs on the land then owned by Sumuel Ullrich, and had 
 a log rolling bee. This building stood for years as school house, church 
 and town hall. 
 
 "In the fail of 4.3, i remember Mr. G. R. Linn and Daniel Frost coming 
 to me with the good news that they had raised $40.00 to support a school 
 for three months. They desired me to act as teacher and I could have 
 this magnificent salary, with the privilege of boarding with them or 
 boarding myself. 1 accepted the offer and boarded myself, except when 
 I had night schools. Then I took tea with the above mentioned gentle- 
 men. 
 
 "The older settlers had the larger part of the grove. When it was good 
 sleighing there was liable to be some claim jumping by settlers, in the 
 way of hauling timber from other claims. Then it was the duty of the 
 president of the Grove Association to order a meeting, and the clerk to 
 mount a pony and give the settlers notice. But the worst cases were 
 
 -- 175 — 
 
when some persons would jump a home claim. I remember several such 
 cases, one of which I will relate. A settler on Temperance Hill had a 
 claim jumped. 'The Grove' was called together and it was decided that 
 the claim belonged to the original claimant, and that the jumper must 
 give it up, which he declined doing. Uncle Russel Linn rose, with as 
 much dignity as if he was in class meeting, and said: 'Gentlemen we 
 have come here to make homes for ourselves and our families. The gov- 
 ernment has held out inducements for us to come, and we have made our 
 homes, and we intend to defend them if we die on the defence. 
 Then, we hope we have boys that will arise and avenge our death.' 
 The man saw Uncle Russel with his seven boys and made up his mind if 
 he had to kill the father and all the boys before he could obtain peacable 
 possession, he would give it up. 
 
 It took longer to go to Chicago in those days than now. Sometimes 
 we thought it a little hazardous, both for those who went and those who 
 remained. Indians encamped in the grove a part of the time; and then 
 there wias a large band all over the state that used to steal liorses and 
 other property, and make bogus coin. When 1 started for an eight or 
 ten days' trip, leaving the girl wife at home, you can imagine the trial it 
 was to me, and I well knew it was to her, as she stood on the door step 
 to see me off. When I went to mill in Aurora it was a similar experience- 
 The first church service we attended was in June, '43. It was held at the 
 home of Mr. and Mrs. Mosses Crombie, on what is now called Crombie's 
 Lane. An uncle of J. M. Gardner's preached. Mr. Bender moved to 
 Bradford in 1845, building a house a little north of where he now resides. 
 He was the first town clerk In Bradford townsliip. 
 
 Of the old settlers from whom we have no fartlier data than the time 
 of their settlement we give names which are familiar, but around which 
 we have no "experiences" with which to adorn our pages. Frank DeWolf 
 whose sister, Mallnda, married Sherman Shaw, a good "mother in Israel," 
 who left us not long since for a better home, and Nelson DeWolf, came 
 in 1837. Edwin Pomeroy, who with Lewis Clapp, was long accounted the 
 possessor of the richest proportion of worldly* goods in our part of the 
 county, came in 1844. Jesse Woodruff, C. Bowen, L. Shumway, Samuel 
 Cobel, William, Warren and Stephen Clink, in the years from 1841 to 
 1843. Mr. Ralph Evitts, a familiar figure in county affairs, 1842; Charles 
 Starks in 1839; Sherman Shavv, the grandfather of the present owner of 
 the title, in 1839; Ellas Hulburt and Ebenezer Whipple, in 1842. 
 
 It will readily be seen how closely interwoven are the stories of the 
 older townships, and how difficult a task it is to disentangle a straight 
 
 — 176 — 
 
thread of narrative from such a web of changing residence, intermarriage 
 and removal. Could the old settlers have better understood our purpose 
 and set their daughters to the pleasant task of our assistance we might 
 have made much more satisfactory and gratifying work. As it is, re- 
 member the warning of the introduction, it is yours as well as ours with 
 its failings or its success. 
 
 Akna E. Woodbridge. 
 
TBe 
 
Zacfiraicxfi JHefvygii^. 
 
 ZACHARIAII MELUGiN was ilu; llrst persdti who settled at the 
 Grove that still bears his iiaiiic, in 1834. Jle took |)art in the Indian 
 war. At the close of the wai- the garrison was situated at Dixon 
 and Mr. Melui^in returned from the war and canie to the Grctve on the 
 first stay e that came from Galena toCiicuKo. lie lirouyht willi him liis 
 camp equipments and lived alone nearly two years, wIumi he was joined 
 by his sister. Mrs. Ituhinson, who irmaini-d with him until his mairia^ic 
 At that time tliere was no house Ix-iwtien Inlet and P.iw Paw, nor he- 
 tween Rochelle and Tr((y Grove. A. (). ChrJNtiance and .lohn Gilmort! 
 came to the Grove in .lujit;, hS.{.j. Mk^. Ezka I'.kkuv. 
 
JVts-fv/g^m'e, GroVs.. 
 
 When there was a call for troops for the Black Hawk war, Zachariah 
 Mehigin, then living near Springfield, Sangamon County. Illinois, en- 
 listed at Rock Island. At the close of the war he returned to Sangamon 
 County. In the fall of 1833 he went to Dixon. 
 
 Father Dixon and others persuaded hiui to go to the Grove, now 
 known as Melugin Grove, to establish a stage station on the stage and 
 niail route between Chicago and Galena via Dixon's Ferry. The stages 
 commenced running January 1st, 1834. 
 
 He was the first settler and kept the house alone the first winter. 
 There were many Indians about. They were always friendly and thought 
 highly of him. and used to go in and spend the evenings with him when 
 he was alone. 
 
 The spring following his sister Mary (my mother) came from Sanga- 
 mon County and stayed with him until he and Mary Ross were married 
 at Ottawa, Ills., October 12th, 1834. That summer of 1834 mother was 
 the only white woman at the Grove, and none between there and Dixon, 
 twenty-miles distant. A great many bands of Indians belonging to the 
 Sac, Fox, Winnebago and Pottawattomie tribes, passed through the 
 Grove, sometimes stopping for a few days, often complimenting mother 
 by calling her a ''brave squaw." During that summer she carried water 
 from a spring eighty rods from the stage station, going by a mere path. 
 They had a cow, but no churn; she would put the cream in a coffee-pot, 
 set the water pail on her head, take the coffee-pot in her hands and shake 
 it as fast as she could all the way to the spring, carrying a pail of water 
 in one hand and coffee-pot in the other going back; in that way she could 
 soon finish the churning. Once during that summer she visited Mrs, 
 Dixon, at Dixon's Ferry, and there, on the first evening of her visit, she 
 first met my father, John K. Robinson. He had served in the Black 
 Hawk war, enlisting at Rock Island from Hancock County, Ills. At the 
 close of the war he remained at Dixon's Ferry. 
 
 Father and mother were married at the home of her brother, Zacha- 
 
 — 184 — 
 
riah Melugin, by the Rev. Harris, September 10th, 1835. 
 
 They had decided to be married when the circuit rider (the pioneer - 
 Methodist preacher) should next visit the Grove. When he came he 
 found within less than a mile of the staj^e station a small company of 
 men building a log house, the expectant bridegroom one of the number. 
 At his invitation the men left the work and went to the station, where 
 their wives were, and there the marriage took place, that being the first 
 wedding at Melugin's Grove. 
 
 About one-half mile from Zachariah Melugin's my father built his 
 house (of one room) of unhewed logs, as did all the settlers, the spaces 
 between the logs were filled with small pieces of wood, then plastered 
 over with mortar made of clay, the roof and floor boards were obtained 
 by splitting trees. Shelves for dishes, etc., were made by boring holes in 
 the logs, driving in long pins, and laying a board across the pins. 
 
 The flreplace warmed the room, and there the cooking was done: cook- 
 ing utensils were very scarce, the bread was baked in iron kettles having 
 iron covers, the kettle being placed in one side of the fireplace and com- 
 pletely covered with live coals and hot ashes, potatoes were also roasted 
 in the ashes. 
 
 Gourds were used for baskets, basins, cups, dippers, soap dishes, etc. 
 Hollow trees cut in suitable lengths were used for well curbs, bee hives, 
 and for storing the vegetables and grain. Large trees were hollowed out 
 into troughs and placed under the eaves to catch the rain water, in sugar 
 making to hold the sap: small troughs were used to knead the bread 
 in, and some of the babies slept in cradles made of troughs. Father made 
 butter bowl, ladle, rolling pin, brooms and other articles of wood, for use 
 in the house. All this was done by hand, and with rude implements; he 
 also mended his harness, and was cobbler for his own family, keeping 
 their shoes in repair. Some families had no timepiece, they told the 
 time during the day by the sun— had a noon mark in a door or window — 
 at night by the position of the stars in the Great Dipper in the north. 
 For want of looking glasses, when they wished to see how their hair was 
 dressed, they looked in the well or watertrough. Some of the early set- 
 tlers were very destitute — the children having but one dress apiece, made 
 of unbleached muslin, colored with butternut bark— the mother washed 
 and ironed their clothing while they were in bed. 
 
 Father's first house was one story and had but the one room, with fire- 
 place in one end, door in the other, windows in opposite sidesof the room. 
 The windows were small, having but one sash each, containing six panes 
 of glass. The fireplace was made of such rocks as they could pick up, 
 
 — 185 — 
 
tilled in with tnortar made of clay; the chimney was built from the 
 ground u[), on the outside of the house, and with sticlcs filled in and plas- 
 tered over with mortar. The door was made of such boards as they could 
 split from the trees, and was hung on wooden hinges, and had wooden 
 latches— the hinges and latches were niade with the pocltet Itnife. The 
 latch had at one end a string (1 presume of bucksl<in) attached to it, the 
 other end passed through a hole in the door over the latch — when they 
 wished to secure their house at night they pulled in the latchstring. 
 
 Father had a compass and when he built his house he placed it with 
 the points of the compass, then at noon the sun shone straight in the 
 door or window. In that way they obtained the "ruxm marl<." Mother 
 had several marks in the first house, to mark the different hours. 
 
 They made their own brooms by taking straight young hickory trees, 
 perhaps three inciies through, peeling off the l)ark, then with their 
 pocket knives they commenced on the end of the stick they intended for 
 the i)rush part and peeled the stick in narrow strips or splints about one- 
 sixteenth of an inch thick, and fifteen to eighteen inches long. The 
 heart of the stick would not peel and that was cut off, leaving a sticic 
 al)out three inches long in the center of these splints. The splints being 
 dropped l)ack over this stick, then they commenced on the handle end 
 and stripped splints toward those already made, and long enough to 
 cover them, when the stick was stripped small enough for the handle, 
 the splints were all tied together around the stick left in the center of 
 the splints first stripped, the remainder of the handle was then stripped 
 to complete the handle. 
 
 They guarded their tire carefully, for they had no matches, and if 
 their fire went out they had to kindle with flint and steel, or go to a 
 neighbor and borrow fire. 
 
 Mother was better fitted for pioneer life than some of the settlers. 
 She knew all about spinning, weaving, knitting, coloring, making sugar, 
 butter, candles and soap, and the use of a fireplace for cooking, all of 
 which were new to some of them. She spun, colored, wove, cut and 
 made our woolen clothing and blankets, also her own linen for house use 
 and garments for the family, and spun her linen thread for sewing. She 
 often spoke of the hardships of others, but very seldom of her own. 
 
 The early settlers were self-sacrificing and helpful. In sickness and 
 sorrow they would do all in their power for each other. They were also 
 hospitable, often inconveniencing themselves greatly to accommodate 
 travelers and new neighbors; when they had only one room, they would 
 take in an entire family to stay until they could cut logs and build a 
 
 — 186 — 
 
house for themselves. 
 
 Their nearest market was Chicago, eiylity miles distant, talcing from 
 Ave to seven (hiys to make tlic journey. Olten when the fatlier was away 
 the Indians would look through the windows at the family, l)ut they never 
 hartned any of the settlers at the Grove. 
 
 They had no fruit except the wild fruit in the Grove. Father carried 
 the llrst currant i)ushes to the Grove on horsehack from Nauvoo. 
 
 Tlu; nearest flour mill was Green's mill near Ottawa, Ills. Also woolen 
 mill, where the wool was ma(h; into rolls, ready for spinning. 
 
 Father and niother used to go to meeting on the same horse, father in 
 the saddle, mother silting heiiind him. 
 
 Zackariah Melugin and Abraham Lincoln were warm friends during 
 the Hhick Hawk war. After the war Lincoln visited him, spending a 
 day and night with him at grandfather's home in Sangamon county. 
 
 Father was the tlrst justice of the peace, and also the first school 
 t(>;icher; teaching in his own house until the first school house was built 
 in 1S3T. 
 
 Religious services were held in private houses until the first school 
 house was built. The first church organized was the MethodistEpiscopal 
 (do not know the date). The first Sunday school was organized by Rev. 
 Ilaney, of the Methodist Episcopal church, in 1847 or 1848 Cornelius 
 Christiarice was the first white child born at the Grove, John Melugin 
 the second, W. W. Gilmore the third, all born 1835. 
 
 A. V. Christiarice was the first post master. Charles Morgan and son 
 were the first merchants, and kept millinery. Dr. liissel was the first 
 doctor to locate there. Ilenry Vroman was the first tailor. 
 
 Amelia G. McFarland. 
 
:f[. Y. Gl2ri«.tia.T2Ge.. 
 
 A. V. Christiance was born in Schenectady county, New York, in 1808. 
 He lived in the east until he was twenty-seven years old. His health 
 was poor, and his physician advised liiin to no west: he toolc his advice 
 and, accordinj^ly, himself and his youni^f wife, started for the west, to find 
 a home and regain failing health. Tliey had been married but a short 
 time and their earthly possessions were not very extensive -an ox team 
 and a covered wagon containing their few housekeeping utensils, con- 
 sisting of a bed, and bedclothes, a few dishes and kettles and such like. 
 They journeyed for many a day and finally reached the south side of 
 Melugin's Grove one summer evening just as tlie sun had set behind the 
 trees, and the landscape was one of beauty and seemed to inspire the 
 heart of Mrs. Christiance with admiration and to promise rest and a home 
 for the future. So she said to her husband, who was preparing to camp 
 for the night, "let's stay her and take up a claim, this is the best place we 
 have found yet. I don't want to travel another day." 
 
 So they rested till the morning and then began their preparations for 
 a home. They had to sleep in the wagon till the house was ready and the 
 cooking was done by a fire made of wood piled up on the ground. In 
 speaking of it she said: 
 
 "'How happy I felt when our little log house was done. It was not 
 very big, as there was only one other man in the Grove — or near there. 
 That was Zachariah Melugin. We had our pick of the land and built on 
 the south side of the Grove, by the side of the old Chicago and Galena 
 road. We kept a sort of tavern for the accommodation of travelers — 
 there in the little log house with a mud chimney and a fire place to cook 
 over and keep warm by." 
 
 They lived until they could afford to put an addition made of logs on 
 one side, then on the other till they finally got money and means to build 
 a comfortable, commodious frame farm house. There the first wiiite 
 child was born in the township, and they named him Cornelius. The old 
 Indian, Shab])ona, used to stop there quite frequently and talk, and tell 
 
 — 188 - 
 
stories of the Black Hawk war and how he helped warn the settlers and 
 they escaped the cruel scalping knife. Iloving bands of Indians used to 
 pass by the house and Mrs. Dr. Carnahan, who lives at Cornpton, a 
 daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Christiance, said: " 1 have seen the Indians 
 lying on the barroom of our house so thick you could not walk across 
 without stepping on theui. One day luy mother went to the door and 
 called to one of the Indian's dogs, as she supposed, to feed it, but my 
 father happened to come to the door just then and told her it was a wolf. 
 She was about to let it in and feed it. She shut the door pretty quick 
 you may be sure." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Christiance continued to live on the same farm and in 
 the same place till her death twenty-two years ago, and there sixteen 
 children were born to them. Mr. Christiance is still living there but his 
 mind is a wreck. Cornelius, the oldest child is there looking after his 
 welfare, having been appointed conservator. 
 
 Five of the children of Mr. Christiance are living, two daughters, and 
 three sons. 
 
 While keeping tavern in those early days Mrs. Christiance used to have 
 many curious guests. She was a lively little woman and, I have heard 
 her tell about getting meals for Joseph Smith, and for many that she felt 
 afraid of, and whom she afterwards learned were notorious horse-thieves, 
 and members of the banditti of the prairie. And she used to stay alone 
 for days at a lime while her husband went to Chicago for groceries or to 
 sell a load of grain to get a supply of things they must have in order to 
 live. 
 
 Life was hard in those early days — l)ut gay in a certain sort of way. 
 The woods had plenty of wild game, and wild fruit, such as plums, rasp- 
 berries, blackberries and strawberries. 
 
 Neighbors were far apart, but after going ten or fifteen miles, borrow 
 some flour and visit awhile, or to exchange newspapers, how glad the folks 
 were to see each other. And then if you happened to call after dark 
 when mavbe you could not very well get there any earlier, the neighbor 
 did not excuse herself, instead of asking her neighbor to stay over night. 
 Yes, there was more genuine hospitality in those old pioneer days than 
 there is now. 
 
 Miis. h'/Aix Beury. 
 
Sar?2\:/s.f /IrgjraVe, 
 
 Samuel Arijrave catue to Lee cuuiity in 1845, and hired out to work on 
 a farm by the month. He worked in this way one year; at the expiration 
 of that time he entered a claim in the south-west quarter, section 25, in 
 Viola township. He erected a dwelling on it, and he and his wife had to 
 live as best they could while trying to get a start in life, and own a home 
 of their own. Their first furniture was mostly what he made with his 
 own hands; but then it was the fashion to be poor, and but for the fact 
 of being without many of the necessaries of life, they were happy in their 
 new made home with its scant furniture and many inconveniences, it 
 was their home and for four years they lived there and together tried to 
 beautify it and cultivate the land. 
 
 In 1850 Mr. Argrave started for California with a wagon, and traveled 
 in the usual way, and reached the golden state in safety. He worked 
 there at the mining business, and was very successful. After remaining 
 two years he returned to Melugin to his family. He had many thrilliiiL; 
 experiences to relate on his return home, but the wife who remained at 
 home in the new country — what of her life during those early days? She 
 said, in speaking of it, "I have known what it is to want for the many 
 little things that go to make up the comforts of home, and had it tiot 
 been for the kindness and generosity of John Gilmore and William 
 Guthrie I don't know what I should have done; but thanks to their kind- 
 hearted generous help, I was kept from becoming destitute. After Mr. 
 Argrave returned they were paid for their kind deeds. But California 
 is a long way off, and in those days it was a long, tedious and often-times 
 a perilous journey. So this help was given nje without any guarantee 
 of reward, because who could say what might happen to him. Even if 
 he made money and started for home he might never get home with it. 
 
 His safety was her great concern, and all through the long months 
 that made the years her anxious heart, pondered the question over and 
 over again; will he ever return? And one glad day he came home to 
 his loved ones with means enough to supply all their wants, and prosper- 
 
 — 190 — 
 
Ity continued to smile upon liis effort from tliat time till now. In 1865 
 he enlisted in Company I, 15th Illinois Infantry, and was in tiie service 
 ei^ht months. They have four children. They reside at Compton, and 
 are well supplied with the comforts and luxuries of life. The winter 
 (1892-3) they spent in Florida. He is now nearly l)liiid, but his 
 faithful wife cares for him so tenderly. His comfort is her first thought, 
 and her eyes are gladly used to promote his happiness and wellfare. 
 
 They have one son living at Compton, Samuel Argrave, and a 
 daughter living there also, she is the wife of Minor M. Avery, and a son 
 and daughter living in Viola township, Wintield Argrave and Mrs. Mary 
 Hutchinson. Miis. E. S. Bkaffet. 
 
Re.T22mis©sir2G>s:& oj" Lsie Go\:/T2t^. 
 
 In the month of April, 1848, S. W. Carnahan and wife, with eight 
 children, started by team from Columbia County, Pennsylvania, to make 
 the then long and to be dreaded journey by team to our new home at Me- 
 lugin's Grove, Lee County, Illinois. This place we reached after an une- 
 ventful journey lasting six weeks. Upon reaching our destination we 
 found a temporary abiding place in the shape of an old log house stand- 
 ing on the east side of the Grove, belonging to John Gilmore, which had 
 but recently been vacated. In this we lived until fall, where father pur- 
 chased forty acres of land and on this decided to builda home of our own. 
 
 With no lumberyard within forty miles, and the nearest saw mill at 
 a distance of ten miles, it was of course necessary to construct the house 
 of logs. This we did, building a Are place of sticks and mortar in one 
 end. In the spring he placed a land warrant on an adjoining 160 acres 
 of land, to which in due course of time he received a patent from the 
 government. The following fall we sent, by a neighbor who was hauling 
 a load of grain to Chicago, for a cook-stove, for which we paid less than 
 $20, including all the necessary furniture — a price that compares favorably 
 with a like article at the present time. This, with our new house, com- 
 bined to make the following severe winter more easily endured than the 
 first we spent in that country. 
 
 Fattier being a carpenter was called upon several times during this 
 winter to make coffins for neighbors who had died. I remember one in 
 particular that he made for a woman who died at Twin Grove, eight 
 miles from where we lived. 1 accompanied father when we went to de- 
 liver it, driving two horses hitched to a sled; by the time we reached the 
 house a violent snow storm had set in, and against the advice of our host, 
 we started on our eight mile drive across the prairie, facing the blinding 
 storm and without a single track to guide us. When about half-way 
 home one of the horses floundered into an open well, but was prevented 
 by the harness from going to the bottom. By the united efforts of father 
 and myself we Anally succeeded in getting it out, and starting again on 
 
 — 192 — 
 
our journey, reached home after dark, greatly to the relief of the anxious 
 ones awaiting us there. 
 
 During the summer season the grass covered the prairies from three 
 to four feet in height, and during my first term of school tnuglit at 
 Knox's Grove, it was no uncommon thing to have from ten to twelve rat- 
 tlesnakes cross my path while going from my hoarding place to the school 
 house. As this was during the days when teach(!rs '•l)oarded around" 
 the distance of course cannot he definitely stated. 
 
 Our familv not being among the very first to move into the country, 
 did not experience so many of the hardships incident to the life of the 
 first pioneer. A store only one-half mile distant furnished us with all 
 necessary groceries, while pork could be had, brought to the door for one 
 and one-half cents per pound. Good milch cows could be purchased 
 reasonably, the first one father boughtcosting but thirteen dollars. When 
 1 taught school and "boarded around," the wages could hardly be called 
 "first class" at the present day, as two dollars was the remuneration 
 granted for each week's service, and 'that to be collected from the patrons 
 of the school, each family paying according to the numberof pupilssent. 
 
 Harriet Carnahan McElysa. 
 
 The following verses were written in 1836 or '37 liy Mr. Melugin, after 
 whom Melugin's Grove was na;ued. They were printed in the Rock River 
 Reyifiter, which was the first paper printed on Rock River. 
 Come leave the fields of childhood 
 
 Worn out by long employ. 
 And travel west and settle 
 In the state of Illinois; 
 Your family is growing up. 
 
 Your boy's you must employ, 
 Come till the rich prairies 
 In the state of Illinois. 
 
 It's on Chicago river, 
 
 Near to the border line, 
 A fine commercial city 
 
 Chicago you may find. 
 It's like old Adams' castle, 
 
 Sprung up the other day. 
 And stripped the rag from off the bush 
 
 Of Michigan, I aye ! 
 
 A Uttle further westward. 
 Near to the Land of Mines, 
 
 — 193 — 
 
Upon the Mississippi, 
 
 Galena you may fliul; 
 A rido upon the railroad 
 
 Full soon you may enjoy, 
 And cross at Dixon's Ferry, 
 
 In the state of Illinois. 
 
 Down on Rock River, 
 
 Such land was never known— 
 If Adam should cross over it. 
 
 The soil he'd surely own; 
 He'd say it was the garden 
 
 He lived in when a boy, 
 And straight pronounce it Eden, 
 
 In the state of Illinois. 
 
 Then move your family westward. 
 Good health you'll there enjoy, 
 
 And rise to wealth and honor 
 In the state of Illinois. 
 
 Chorus: 
 
 Then come along, come along I say; 
 
 Come from every nation, come from every way. 
 
 Then come along, don't you be alarmed 
 
 Then come along, don't you be alarmed. 
 
 For Uncle 8am is rich enough to give us all a farm. 
 
 Preserved and contributed by Dr. U. Roe, Franklin Grove. 
 

"MotBer- Wfilfr^sy. 
 
 IT is customary to speak in glowing terms of the men who brave the 
 flangers and endure the hardships of a new country, passing over the 
 ones who silently endure the hardships and privations inai<intr rough 
 places smooth for them whenever it is in their power to do so. What 
 would our great country be now, if the wife had not toiled silently by the 
 side of the sturdy pioneer and cheered him by her loving presence, guarded 
 and directed him by her wise counsels, or helped with her ever ready 
 hand at tasks that were too hard for frail woman? If their history could 
 only be written, what a story of self-sacrifice, silent endurance and dis- 
 play of courage it would present: for way down in their hearts they suf- 
 fered daily tortures that not even their husbands dreamed of — home- 
 sickness, loss of friends, privations found only in new countries— and 
 went down tJ their graves unmentioned. The unwritten history of this 
 country is full of these silent martyrs. 
 
 The subject of ray sketch, Sarah Gray Whitney, was one of these 
 women. Born in 1791 near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in her early child- 
 hood she moved with her father's family to the western part of New 
 York, then a wilderness. Here she lived and grew up to womanhood, 
 when she married Nathan Whitney. The first two years of her married 
 life she spent with her husband at the father's, for he was not of age and 
 the stern old gentleman required him to work his tin)e out. Then she 
 moved with him upon a new place that had to be cleared, for it was for- 
 est land. They had not been there long before the War of 1812 l)roke out, 
 and when her husband was drafted into the army she was left alone with 
 her infant as were most of the neighbor women; for only the old men 
 who were too infirm to handle a musket, or boys who were too young, 
 were left at home. 
 
 Before her husband left for the war he had succeeded in getting a 
 woman with her child, whose husband had also been drafted, to stay 
 with her; but one day an Indian was seen in the cornfleld near the house 
 gathering roasting ears, which so frightened the women, that each 
 
 — 197 — 
 
seized her little child and ran to a neighbor's for protection, where there 
 were two boys about twelve and fourteen years of age. Each boy seized 
 a musket and went in searcii of the Indian, who had disappeared, which 
 was fortunate for hi^n for had he been found he would certainly have been 
 fired upon l)y the boys. After that her companion could not be persuaded 
 to enter the house again, even when she knew the Indian had no evil 
 intent. 
 
 The rest of the time until the close of the war she spent alone, endur- 
 ing the hardships of securing the crops, constantly on the lookout for an 
 Indian attack and suffering great anxiety for her husbands safety. 
 
 After the war, when her husband had returned, by her industry and 
 frugality, she helped amass a comfortable fortune; for while her husband 
 labored hard in the fields she was always busy with her household cares, 
 spinning or weaving, making cloth for dresses for her ever increasing 
 family; for she was the mother of ten children, seven of whom (six daugh- 
 ters and one son) grew up to manhood and womanhood. Then, too, the 
 linen had lo all be provided by the wife's hands after preparing the flax 
 and spinning it. She would weave it into sheets, and table lin<ui of 
 "bird's eye" and "diamond" paterns, with heavy fringes, some of them a 
 quarter of a yard deep, knotted and tied by her own hands. This had to 
 be combed out, which was usually done after the children and men of 
 the house were sleeping soundly in their beds. When her daughters were 
 old enough lo go to school there were white aprons and white sunbonnets, 
 all ruffled, that had to be starched and ironed, for six little girls, the 
 ruffles crimped and fluted, after the children were in their beds or while 
 she was "resting." Think of the yards of hemming and making that 
 was done in those days, one stitch at a time, and compare it to our own 
 swift-running sewing machines that can do more work in an hour's time 
 than could then be accomplished in a day. Then, too, the amount of 
 butter and cheese made by her without ever a thought of the amount of 
 work she was doing would fairly appall a woman of later days, for even 
 with our creameries and cheese factories we are apt to groan over the 
 amount of work to be done with the help of all our modern improve- 
 ments. 
 
 Of course the little girls had to be taught to work, for she was a strict 
 disciplinarian, believing firmly that "Satan finds mischief for idle hands 
 to do," and she could always find employment for her children, keeping 
 even the youngest busy if necessary and at the same time never stopping 
 her own busy hands. Then after all these years of hard work she had 
 the mortification of seeing her home sold to pay the debts of ^.nother 
 
 — 198 — 
 
that her husband had signed for. Leaving a large brick house (which 
 was a constant regret to her all her life) moving from Albion to Elba, 
 where another new house was erected and a comfortable home established 
 when after a few years her husband sold out, this time settling in Union- 
 ville, Ohio, then the boundary of civilization. 
 
 Here after a residence of a few years she had to again endure nearly 
 the same experience of the first home, for her husband met with nearly 
 the same misfortunes in mercantile business, in wliich he had at this 
 time engaged. By trusting others too far he lost nearly all of his pro- 
 perty again. But before they again started westvvard it was decided 
 that in the new home they would engage in the nursery business. With 
 that prudent forethought that was her characteristic, she with the aid 
 of her little son (A. R. Whitney of Franklin Grove nursery) washed out 
 apple seeds, saving a half bushel for the first start, not forgetting cherries, 
 plums and peaches. The apple seeds, only, grew well. 
 
 Then the journey from Unionville, Ohio, began in January, 1838, end- 
 ing in Illinois February 8, 1838. It was one of many hardships, as the 
 swamps were almost impassable, mud prevailing most of the way until 
 near the end, when it froze up, and the distance from Inlet to Franklin 
 Grove was made in sleighs, where the Colonel met the family, he having 
 started west several months before to look up a claim and prepare a 
 habitation for them. 
 
 The first house the family moved into was a log cabin situated down 
 in the grove, where a family of ten occupied a house about sixteen feet 
 square, which had two beds in it. These were occupied by the Colonel 
 and his wife and their daughter and her husband. Dr. and Mrs. Gregory. 
 There was a low room up stairs that was used as a sleeping room by the 
 other members of the family, and it was no unusual occurrence for the 
 occupants to have to shake the snow from the V)ed clothes in the morning 
 before they could arise, or to amuse themselves by counting the stars 
 through the cracks in the roof as they lay awake listening to the roar of 
 the winds. 
 
 It was here her great executive ability was again displayed, making 
 partitions of blankets and such articles as came handy, cooking for a 
 large family over a fire place, making bread and biscuit that were the 
 envy and admiration of more than (me good housewife, using the old 
 fashioned tin oven or reflector for baking or an oven built outside of the 
 house, made of clay (as no brick could be procured at that time), provid- 
 ing lights by making the old fashioned "witches," until she could get 
 tallow to make candles, which she did by dipping them or running the 
 
 — 199 — 
 
tallow into earthen molds, of which two out of a dozen are still in exist- 
 ence. For lamps those in which lard could be used for oil were substi- 
 tuted for candles, when farmers were well enough off to raise their pork. 
 On one occasion some member of the family kjlled some large owls, and 
 when Mrs. Whitney tried out the fat, which yielded a small quantity of 
 oil which she used in the lamp it also occasioned considerable sport for 
 some of the mischievous members of the family; for one of the daughters 
 had an ardent admirer who would prolong his evening call to such an 
 extent that the "owls grease" was recommended to her to "rub on his 
 eyes so he could see his way home earlier." 
 
 The new house on the prairie was raised, and by May it was completed 
 eno igh so the family could move into it. All the timbers in it were cut 
 from trees in the grove at Franklin, and hewn into proper shape by Col- 
 onel Nathan Whitney; even the shingles and siding and the first floor of 
 loose boards were split out by him, but the permanent floor of matched 
 boards was sawed by a mill down in the grove. It was when completed, 
 (which took a year's hard labor) one of the most comfortable farm houses 
 in this section, although it was not plastered for several years after they 
 moved into it. for of course lime and other material for plastering could 
 not easily be obtained. The family were l)etter fixed than many who 
 first came here, for Mrs. Whitney had six chairs taken apart and packed 
 in the wagons when they moved from Ohio, and the colonel put them 
 together again after they arrived here. So they enjoyed the comfort of 
 three rocking chairs and three other chairs which of course was prefer, 
 able to the three legged stools and benches which were also used. 
 
 Comparative comfort began again after moving into the new house. 
 It was here she used her first cook stove. 
 
 When spring came, and it was very early that year, for many spring 
 flowers appeared in March, the young ladies of the family found special 
 enjoyment in the great flower garden that nature provided with such a 
 lavish hand upon these vast prairies. It seemed as if no spot was too 
 poor or mean to produce some tiny blossom. One young lady excelled in 
 snake hunting, s(>metimes appearing before her frightened sisters with 
 fourteen snakes hung over a long stick. These snakes she had killed 
 during a short walk along the creek— remarking that she "did not kill 
 the half she saw for the ground was literally alive with them," as they 
 had crawled out to sun themselves on the warm bank of the stream. 
 
 "Yes, these were the happiest days of my life," remarked one who is 
 old and gray haired now, when she. recalls the old pioneer days. 
 
 One great curiosity to the new settlers was the "drumming" of the 
 
 — 200 - 
 
prairie chickens. It was a loti^ time before they (inulrt determine where 
 the peculiar noise came from. Occasionally a herd of deer would appear 
 near the house and a little fawn was once a household pet. Wolves, too, 
 at that time were very common, their howling making the chills run 
 over one, although they were not a very formidable foe. A little east of 
 the old house is a large bank of the purest sand, varying in color from 
 pure white to pink, green, yellow, etc.; and here it was that material for 
 scouring the floor was found. Nature, too, provided fruits very bounti- 
 fully then, although the variety was not very great, but blackberries, wild 
 plums and even the wild crabapple were used for sauce, when sugar could 
 be obtained: excursions for gathering these fruits were always enjoyable 
 aflfairs, especially if some new acquaintance was made, for the people 
 then were more open-hearted and social than now. Each one was about 
 as rich as his neighbor. 
 
 One of the first things that was done in the spring was to break up a 
 place to plant the apple seeds which had been frozen and sprouted by Col- 
 Whitney. 
 
 As the years passed new furniture was added and the new home en- 
 larged but of course it was not done with the ease that such things are 
 done now adays; for Chicago was the nearest market for many years and 
 wheat only flft^ cents a bushel, and everything purchased there was 
 high priced. 
 
 As new friends were made and her motherly love and sympathy dis- 
 played, she became "Mother" to all who knew her. There is many a 
 young man who, being without friends to care for him, can thank her for 
 nursing him during illness, for it was nf) uncommon occurrence for Dr. 
 Nash to drive out from Dixon and say to her, "Mother there is a young 
 man sick down in the Grove (or elsewhere) and if you don't take him in 
 and care for him he will die:" and "mother," ever ready to respond to the 
 suffering of others, would inconvenience herself, take him home and 
 nurse him back to life and health again. Yes, many a poor starving 
 heart, that had left home and mother in the east, found motherly love 
 and sympathy in her presence. 
 
 After the daughters were married, Harriet to James McKcnney, Eliza 
 Ann to Daniel McKenney, and Cornelia to Abram Brown, and grand 
 children began to arrive what a place of pleasure the old house was for 
 "mother" — no grandchild evei called her grandmother— was ever indulg- 
 ent to their whims. Only occasionally some of the oldest grandchildren 
 can remember their pleasure being marred by the appearance of a hunt- 
 ing party of Indians, whose red blankets they thought were covered with 
 
 — 201 — 
 
the blood of their victims, and they fled for safety under "mother's" bed, 
 seeking protection behind the old fashioned valance that hung down to 
 the floor. Another childish horror was an ancient Hibernian who lived 
 not far away, who would put in an appearance now and then, and who 
 seeing the little children clinging to mother's skirts in childish fear would 
 add to it by taking off his cap and repeating some gibberish into it and 
 end by Saying that he "had a cellar with two rooms in it where he cut otf 
 naughty girls heads and put their head in one room and their bodies in 
 another for the cats to eat." Truly he was a veritable "Bruin" or "Blue- 
 beard" to their childish imaginations; although in reality he was a kind- 
 hearted man, but "mother" saved them, so they thought. 
 
 It is one of their childish remembrances, too, that brings up the little 
 bag that hung on the post at the head of her bed for preserving apple 
 seeds when the apple trees began to bear, and which seed was used for 
 enlarging the nursery. So it will be seen that the great nursery that 
 DOW stands on the old place is a living monument to her industry and 
 forethought. And oh! the cakes and turnovers she made for them, was 
 there ever anything half so delicious since? These and many other child- 
 ish impressions can now be recalled that are pleasant to dwell upon. 
 
 Always living on the outskirts of civilization, never realizing what her 
 fondest expectations had hoped for, seeing the accumulations of years 
 swept away from her, she lived an example of heroic fortitude worthy to 
 be followed by the best. Ah, yes, she was of such stuff as generals are 
 made of. She died at the age of seventy-two, beloved and honored by all 
 who knew her. 
 
 If I have not written in full of Colonel Whitney it is not through disre- 
 spect or disloyalty, for everyone knows he helped make history, and our 
 county bears evidence of his abilty. Everyone knows he lived over a 
 century, a grand old man whose life was one long effort to do good. Yes 
 a hundred years of well-doing that was not marred by unjust or evil acts, 
 and nothing that I can say will add anything to its lustre. Men build, 
 but women lay the foundations. 
 
 One of "Mother" WniTNEY's Gkandchildren. 
 
:flni(D& flv/sss./. 
 
 Amos Hussey was one of the early settlers of Lee County and was for 
 more than half a century a valued citizen of Franklin Grove. The tract 
 (.>f land which he purchased from the government, the deed for which 
 was siifned by James K. Polk, became one of the Hnest farms in the 
 township. Mr. Hussey was born in Little York, York County, Pa., in 
 1806: he was married in 1834 to Jane Fredonia Holly, who was the 
 first while child born in Fredonia, New York. " 
 
 In making honorable mention of Amos Hussey it is Init just that we 
 should equally honor the memory of his noble wife. 
 
 Through all the hardships of a pioneer life her cheerful courage never 
 faltered, while her zeal and energy seemed inexhaustible. 
 
 Money was scarce in those early days, as well as helpful machinery 
 for the cultivation of their land, and the early settlers used to take their 
 grain to Peru and later to Chicago with their own teams. What stories 
 of those early experiences we have lieard them relate illustrating so viv- 
 idly the constant struggle against adverse circumstances! but their en- 
 ergy, iiKlustry and patient endurance were rewarded. In time Mr. Hus- 
 sey became the owner of two hundred and forty acres of land, on which 
 he made substantial improvements and enjoyed a pleasant home. He 
 was a man whose strict adherence to principle made him universally 
 trusted and respected. In early life he was politically a Whig and later 
 a staunch supporter of the Republican policy. Religiously he was a 
 Quaker, while his wife was a Presbyterian — one of the organizers of that 
 soci.'tv in Franklin Grove. Ella E. Hussey. 
 
6fir2:?p«,s:3 of Frootisir Lij'^:. 
 
 On the twenty-sixth clay of December, 1834, Dr. John Roe and family, 
 consisting of a wife and five boys, crossed the Illinois river enroute for 
 the Rock ri v'er valley. The first stopping place was Knox's Grove, which 
 they reached at ten o'clock at night. The Vermilion river was frozen, 
 and altogether the journey was one of extreme ditBculty. Little Uriah, 
 ten years of age, drove five pigs. He walked, having the only pair of 
 shoes among the children. These were rough and clumsy, made by a 
 shoemaker who came to their house, and the soles cut from the skirts of 
 a saddle. The other four boys, Frank, John, Bolivar and Matthew, had 
 their feet wrapped in rags, and huddled close in the bedding to keep 
 warm. 
 
 The next stopping place was Bliss' Grove, and starting from thence 
 next morning, facing a northwestern storm, the boy cried that he could 
 drive the pigs no further. He was freezing and they were obliged to re- 
 turn and lay over at the cabin in Bliss' Grove two or three days. They 
 came up to the present site of Washington Grove, making their un- 
 guided way as best they could. There was no other way except the Kel- 
 loge's trail and Bole's trail, which ran too far to the west. 
 
 There were three families living thereabouts, those of Smith, Fay 
 and Blackmore. This was the early winter of 1835 and th& family 
 stopped at Blackmoor's, as they had pre-arranged. The cabin was sixteen 
 feet square, with a blanket for a door, no floor, and not a nail in it. The 
 Roe family numbered seven and the Blackmore nine— there were sixteen 
 persons in the sixteen feet square cabin. Mrs. Blackmore, the grand- 
 mother, died in 1835 at an advanced age. 
 
 Their neighbor Fay had a cabin near the spring on the Paddock farm, 
 and had dug a winding passage from his cabin for a hundred feet to a 
 covert, from which he hoped to escape in case of an Indian attack. 
 
 In the spring the doctor sold one yoke of oxen. The hogs were turned 
 in the woods to fatten on the acorns, when killed they readily sold at 
 twenty-one dollars a liuiidred. Corn cost two and a half dollars a bushel. 
 
 — 204 — 
 
He made one hundred sugar troughs and tapped sugar maples in the 
 center of the grove about the twentieth of February. From this labor 
 he secured one thousand pounds of sugar, one barrel of molasses and two 
 barrels of vinegar, made by letting the sap sour in the sum. 
 
 He built a cabin and later added another, making it double, near the 
 route between Dixon and Rockford. It soon began to be known through 
 the settlement that the house on the hill where there was always a light 
 burning at night was the Doctor's house, and toward it they came from 
 all directions. 
 
 This was the origin of the name Lighthouse, which clings to the neigh- 
 borhood yet. Another way to distinguish their cabin in summer was the 
 brown leaves and dead branches of four acres of "girdled" trees which 
 surrounded it. A great tree near was also a signal of the way to the 
 cabin. For years and years, early and late, through winter and sum- 
 mer, the doctor rode over the region around, administering medicine, 
 advice and good cheer, indeed, like his Master, he went about doing good. 
 
 Speaking of the rarity of the atmosphere Dr. U. C. Roe says on a 
 clear, cold morning from their elevated location they could plainly see 
 the smoke curl up from the cabins in Franklin Grove, and distinguish 
 the tall trees near Melugin's Grove. Their cabin was twenty feet square, 
 with roof of shakes four feet long, held on with logs. There was not a 
 nail in it. The fireplace was of stone broken out of the ledge, a stick- 
 chimney, daubed with mud. The walls were all chinked with mud. The 
 boys sleeping up in the loft sometimes were covered with six inches of 
 snow which drifted in, in tlie night. 
 
 In the summer of 1835-36 Miss Chloe Benedict, a daughter of Mrs. 
 James Clark and afterwards wife of Rev. Barton Cartwright, taught 
 school in a log-house. In the winter of 1836-37 Mr. John Colyier taught. 
 In 1837-38 an Irishman, a Mr. Graham, taught a large school of some 
 forty pupils in the Roe cabin. Mr. Graham was a very capable teacher 
 who sharpened quills into satisfactory pens, smoked constantly and was 
 an excellent penman. One class was Uriah Roe and Mina Wood, now 
 Mrs. John R. Chapman of Franklin Grove. They read in "The History 
 of Christ." 
 
 To this school came, beside the five Roe children, Mina Wood; Har- 
 low, Rielly and Bradford, Daniel McKintiey's children: Clinton, John 
 McKinney's son; Richard, Morton, Theodore and Hutchinson, Richard 
 McKinney's children; John Whitson, Cyrus Brown, Almeda Brown (later 
 Mrs. U. C. Roe), Parker and Elizalicth Plantz, Henry ;ind James Martin, 
 Rufus and Emily Wood (later Mrs. George H. Taylor of Franklin Grove.) 
 
 — 205 — 
 
The seats and school apparatus were very soant.y or altogether want- 
 ing, but one scholar attirrus it was one of the best schools he ever at- 
 tended. 
 
 In the winter of 1837-38 C. B. Farvvell, now the Chicago millionaire, 
 taught the first term in the "Red School House." 
 
 In February, '36, a man came to Dr. Roe's cabin asl<ing for help. He 
 had started from Rockford for Prophetstown, following the Indian trail, 
 and while fording Kite creek his oxen had been caught in the ice and his 
 wagon box had floated off with his wife, children, and a chest in which 
 was concealed a pocketbook containing five hundred dollars in "Joe 
 Smith's currency." 
 
 He had freed the oxen and they were probably on their way to their 
 home. The wagon box had lodged at an island. To this the Doctor 
 swam again and again until the woman and children were safe on dry 
 land, but the chest had burst open, the pocketbook fallen into the water, 
 and could not be found. 
 
 The family were kindly cared for at the Roe cal)in, atid next morning 
 little Uriah was sent to tell the story of the disaster to the stranger's 
 brother. It was quite an undertaking for a boy of eleven to go so far 
 alone, but he trudged along till he came to the battle-field at Stillman's 
 Run, and then in the long grass, partially covered with snow, he saw 
 skulls and bones which wolves and badgers had dug up. Scared at the 
 awful sight, the story of the battle fresh in his mind, as he says his "hair 
 fairly stood up on his head." 
 
 But he did not turn back, and reached his journey's end in time to 
 eat supper with the bachelor brother of the stranger, in the only house 
 in what is now the city of Rockford. 
 
 The supper was of "johnny cake," cucumbers and salt, and was, he 
 said, the "best supper he ever ate in his life." The pleasure of seeing a 
 living man, added to a boy's keen appetite, made it so — and then, too, 
 while he had had corn bread and pork for his lunch on the way, this was 
 johnny cake, so there was the sauce of variety. 
 
 The oxen were there as soon as he, and they brought them and the bov 
 to Dr. Roe's. 
 
 About a year after a fisherman found the lost pocketbook in the creek. 
 With great care the soaked bills were put together, so that they were 
 redeemed, the man found and the money restored to him. 
 
 That he was grateful to Dr. Roe for such kindnesses goes without 
 saying. 
 
 Mrs. Roe had at one time a pretty pet deer, of which she was very 
 
 — 206 — 
 
fond, and which was always very gentle. She made a red collar for it, 
 that it might not be injured by hunters, as it ran in the grove. 
 
 One day she had invited quite a large tea party of ladies, gentlemen 
 and children. She had spent considerable time in preparing for the 
 great event, and set her table in the space between the cabins, to have 
 ample accommodation. 
 
 Just as they were ready to taice tlieir place, the pet deer came bound- 
 ing up, frightened by some boys, seeking Mrs. Rosa's protection. 
 
 It sprang to her side across the table, scattering the feast in every di- 
 rection, breaking the dishes, and almost spoiling the supper. 
 
 But I presume, like Mrs. Ingalls, she soon had another ready, which 
 was eaten with even better appetite than the first would have been. 
 
 According to the best data Cummings Noe built the first cabin in 
 China township, in 1835 or '36. 
 
 This cabin, called the "Noe House," stood about eighty rods north of 
 where W. H. Hansen now lives. Col. Whitney came here in 1835, and 
 there were no houses, but in 1836 he found Mr. Noe's cabin, and those of 
 James Holly and his father-in-law, Charles Harrison. The Noe family, 
 eight in number, came from Ohio. 
 
 Mrs. Sanders says she remembers hearing her mother, Mrs. Edward 
 Morgan, tell of his kindness to her family in pioneer days and that he 
 was an excellent man. They moved to Willow Creek, near Twin Groves, 
 in 1846. 
 
 Lorenzo Whiting taught school about 1840 near Tolman's timber, a 
 short distance from the present site of Franklin Grove. He moved to 
 Bradford, near an old friend, Thomas Doe, and from here was elected to 
 the State Legislature, and long known as the "farmer senator." 
 
 Miss Sarah Edmonds, afterward Mrs. James Nettleton of Franklin 
 Grove, was also an early teacher in China township. She taught at the 
 school house east of Amos Hussey's homestead, and boarded there. Je- 
 rome Hussey was one of the primary scholars, and Sam Conner another— 
 but Sam used to go to sleep over his lessons, while Jerome never did. She 
 was a faithful worker in the W. C. T. U., Band of Hope, and Junior 
 League, in which the writer had the privilege of assisting her. Her 
 presence was like a ray of sunlight, cheering, invigorating, helpful and 
 restful. Marion Edmonds Roe, speaking of her, says: "In many a hum- 
 ble home she seemed God's angel to the sad and poor, and those whose 
 need was greatest found the kindest welcome at her door." She died in 
 1891. 
 
 — 207 — 
 
William Clark Robinson came to Franklin in 1843 and bought the 
 farm now owned by his son George. Henry S. Buckman and his brother, 
 Ira Robinson, lived with him two or three years, then they divided the 
 property. 
 
 In 1844 he married Harriet Hansen, then a successful teacher. He 
 had a drug store in town for a number of years, but retired to his son's 
 farm in his later years and died in 1891, aged 74 years. 
 
 In 1835 Lockwood Miner came from New York, the third of the first 
 three men at Franklin Grove — Col. Nathan Whitney the first, Cyrus 
 Chamberlain second. 
 
 In 1836 his father, Cyrus R. Miner came. 
 
 Lockwood located on a claim of eighty acres, now known as the Joe 
 Lahman farm, but owned by David and John Inagy. Until his father 
 came with the rest of the family in December he stopped with the Mor- 
 gan family in tlieir double log cabin north of the Grove. This cabin is 
 still standing, and in a good state of preservation, on Ezra Wfthey's land, 
 opposite Conrad Durkes' house. 
 
 Edward Stoddard, who married Willa Morgan, moved it there, and 
 "It is just as it was when I ate dinner in it in 1840" says an old settler. 
 
 In January, 1837, the Miners moved to a small cabin, without doors 
 or windows, built on the present site of the "Gabriel Miller" home, and 
 owned by James Nettleton. 
 
 He afterwards built the western part of the old "Bishop Hughes' Ho- 
 tel," but now owned and named by Isaac Downing the "Downing House." 
 One of the settlers says- "He was Christian, honest, strict, set in his 
 ways, and tenacious of his creed and politics." He was a class leader in 
 1840 when the Rev. Jas. McKean was a missionary in the Rock River 
 District and the class met at his house. He was born in 1782, in Massa- 
 chusetts, was married three times— Timothy Loci<w()od was the only is- 
 sue of the first marriage; and Sarah, the good wife of Otis Timothy, Albert. 
 Daniel and David of the second; and Elsie of the third. Daniel died in 1852 
 on his way to California, Lockwood in Missouri 1870, Mr. Miner closed 
 a long and useful life in 1846. 
 
 "Father Withey" is an old settler and with his aged wife has lived in 
 China township nearly forty-seven years. He came here in 1847, and in 
 1850 bought one of the first, if not the first threshing mnchine in the 
 country. He threshed for the settlers all about, taking one-tenth of ihe 
 grain in payment, which he hauled to market and sometimes s'.dd for 
 twenty-five cents a bushel, but with care and good management he has 
 secured a pleasant ahd comfortable home. 
 
 — 208 — 
 
In 1843 Christian Lahman, with his family and his father-in-law, Mr. 
 Emmett, came from Pennsylvania and located north of Franklin Grove, 
 on the land now occupied by his son David. Mr. Lahman and Mr. Em- 
 mett were both Dunkard preachers, and as others of their faith took de- 
 grees there were in time twelve preachers who, at different times, led 
 their simple earnest services Mr. Lahman and his wife have reared a 
 large family of children, of whom several are settled near the Grove. 
 Joseph, a minister in his father's church, lived a little west of town — of 
 David we have spoken already. Maggie, now Mrs. Alex Miller, has gone 
 west; Joshua lives south of our town; John is president of the Franklin 
 Grove Bank and lives in town; William lives in Chicago. The family is 
 of German descent and have shown their native perseverence and energy 
 as well as integrity and upright character, and as a consequence are all 
 well off, not only in this world's goods, but in the esteem of their fellow 
 citizens. 
 
 In the fall of 1838 Philip Stahl came from Maine, with W. H. and 
 Harrison Hausen. They stopped at Cold Water, Michigan, to work for 
 a time. Here they met a family named Bridgeman, with a son-in-law, 
 Wm. Church, wife and child. They hired these men to take their chests 
 of clothing on their wagons, paying them enough for their board and 
 passage to aid them materially in keeping up supplies. 
 
 Mrs. Bridgeman was a brave, sensible woman, who made the best of 
 their difficulties and was always cheerful, but her daughter, Mrs. Church, 
 was much more timid and despondent. 
 
 They bought supplies at the towns on the way, cooked by a canip fire, 
 and came on as fast as they could. When they reached the Inlet the 
 party separated, the three men going to Franklin to keep bachelor's hall 
 in the "Noe house" till spring, the rest going to I^ilestine Grove. They 
 worked in the timber all winter, carrying their frozen buckwheat cakes 
 for lunch, but they were hale and hearty and it did not affect their 
 strength or appetite. 
 
 A family by the name of Cooper lived for several years on land now 
 included in the farm of Samuel Lahman. Harry Cooper and his wife 
 were well educated and great readers; he is said to have been sharp in 
 business and she very ladylike. Their daughter Reform married Harry 
 Godger, who taught school here about 1840. 
 
 "Old Harry," as the father-in-law was called, rather objected to the 
 match. Taking an immense pewter plate in his liiuid, he astonished the 
 wedding guests by saying, "Here, Reform !" "Why father, what shall I 
 do with it?" said the bride. "Melt it up, and run it into Harry's head for 
 
 — 209 — 
 
brains!" was the brusque reply. 
 
 Louisa, another daughter, taught school at Whipple's Cave about 1839, 
 and is supposed to have been one of the first teachers here. She married 
 Mr. Warnsley and lived near Troy Grove. The family weni, to LaSalle in 
 1843. 
 
 When I asked Mrs. Sanders about her family she showed me the old 
 "Family Record" in her "Testament and Psalms" and said "These were 
 the first children at the Grove." Her father, Edward Morgan, built a 
 rude shanty near Marcus Wingert's present home, and good Mrs. Roe, 
 seeing the smoke from the chimney as she stood in her own cabin door 
 miles away, exclaimed "Praise the Lord! We have neighbors." They 
 came from Ohio, their little daughter Willa riding most of the way on 
 horseback beside the wagon. Tliere were three other children besides 
 Baby Rachel — now Mrs. Sanders, As they came in May, 1836, they were 
 probably the first family at the Grove, after Cummins Noe's. Hischiklren 
 were born before he came west, so Mrs. Sanders thinks her brother, John 
 Wesley Morgan, born in 1837, was the first one at the Grove. He mar- 
 ried Caroline Bremmer in 1863, and lives in the west. 
 
 School was kept alternate weeks at Mr. Morgan's double log cabin, 
 and at Wliipple's Cave. "Two days' meetings" were also held here, for 
 Mr, and Mrs. Morgan were Christian pioneers. 
 
 A man who worked for them says tliat when tlie mother would swing 
 the kettle of mush from the fireplace for their supper, the children 
 scrambling about her, tired with play and eager with hunger, never 
 failed to hush their voices and l)()w their heads while the father offered 
 thanks for the simple meal. Mr. Morgan died in 1847, his wife in 1863. 
 
 "Squire" Jeremiaii Whipple located near the "Cave" which bears his 
 name in 1837 with his family of wife and four children. 
 
 He had been out the year before, and agreed with Jesse Holly, to 
 bring out machinery for a saw mill, which they were to run in partner- 
 ship. The sites of the house, the saw mill, and the dam are still to be 
 seen, though the buildings are gone. 
 
 For many years Joseph Whipple lived with them. 
 
 Almost all the boards used in the houses of the vicinity were sawn at 
 that mill and paid for often in labor and commodities. 
 
 Joseph was an oldline Whig, and Jerry a strong Democrat, both well 
 read in politics, so they made the double log cabin ring with party argu- 
 ments. 
 
 Most of the lawsuits of the day were tried by Squire Whipple, who 
 had been a Justice of the Peace in New York and was an able man. 
 
 — 210 — 
 
Here, too, people of all religious names gathered on Sundays for 
 "meetings," singing as lieartily, praying as fervently, and worshipping as 
 devoutly, as in a more pretentious building. 
 
 The Whipple, Cooper and Hansen families leaned to Universalisra; 
 the Morgan, Minor and Chamberlain families were Methodist; the Tol- 
 man, Hussey, Holly, Ayerhart, Howland,Chilson, O'Connor, Brcnen, Mc- 
 Farland, Yale, Johns, Whitney and Nichols families were of various de- 
 nominations, but here they all united as one. 
 
 The meeting over, little knots of friends shook hands, chatted over 
 the news, and then drove away with their ox teams. 
 
 Emily Whipple married a Mr. Tompkins, and Isabelle, Decatur Far- 
 rows; both went to Iowa, thence to Pike's Peak. 
 
 Cyrus Chamberlain has been so fully mentioned in another paper that 
 I will not add more than to say, in the words of an old settler, that he 
 "was an intelligent, large-hearted man." 
 
 A kind old gentleman whose modesty prevents my giving his name 
 told me the following story: 
 
 "Perhaps you would like to hear about the first doctor at Franklin 
 Grove, and as he was a cousin of mine I can tell you about him. It was 
 in 1844 or '45 that Rufus B. Clarke came to Wisconsin with his wife and 
 daughter. He was an excellent mechanic, so made a good living and all 
 went well until he lost his wife. Soon after, hearing that a family 
 named Nichols whom he knew lived at Dover, this state, he drove to 
 that place with his daughter, and here he was married a second time. 
 The lady whom he married was in the last stages of consumption, and 
 the doctor told Clarke it was of no use for him to attend her, as he, 
 Clarke, could prepare and administer the quieting remedies which were 
 all she could use. So he loaned Clarke several medical books, which he 
 studied diligently. His wife soon died, and he decided to attempt mar- 
 ble work, at least long enough to get stones for the graves of his wives. 
 Having secured them, he prepared to make the journey to Wisconsin 
 where the first wife lay. A young fellow named Olivard was to go with 
 him, and as his means were limited he hit upon a plan for defraying ex- 
 penses of which the reader may judge for himself. 'Olivard,' said he, 
 'times will be hard between here and there, and I have hit upon a .scheme. 
 You just act as my waiter, take care of the horse and call me 'doctor' and 
 I guarantee we'll come out all right.' 
 
 "So putting in his books and case of medicine they started, reaching 
 Franklin Grove (called at that time both 'Fremont' and 'Chaplain') the 
 first night. They put up at the Miner House, now standing south of the 
 
 — 211 - 
 
Downing House, then used as a tavern. Olivard, true to his part, called 
 Clarke 'Doctor,' and the landlord caujjht at the word. 'Are you a doctor' 
 sir?" he asked anxiously. When told that he was he went on to say 'My 
 wife is sick in there, I was just thinking I must send to Dixon for a doc- 
 tor, but this is good luck, you have come and you can see her.' Clarke 
 pronounced the case a mild one, prescribed some simple remedy, and both 
 he and the landlord were relieved the next morning to find the good 
 woman much better and 'quite bright.' Nothing would do but the new 
 doctor must drive out and prescribe for the sick in the neighborhood, 
 and at the landlord's urgent entreaty he promised to consider the place 
 as a possible location. 
 
 "After the stone was set at his wife's grave and they were ready to 
 return, Clarke said to his assistant, 'See here, Olivard, if I am going into 
 this business I must understand surgery. I know where a young Indian's 
 body lies, and I am going to get the bones to study.' The bones were 
 secured, placed in a box, and as they came through Franklin he left them 
 there. Going on to Dover, he settled up his affairs there and returned to 
 Franklin, to the great delight of the landlord. He boarded at the tavern 
 and his barn stood on a part of what is now Charles Hausen's lawn. 
 
 "As Dr. Clarke's practice increased he took Dr. Yager into partner- 
 ship. He married a daughter of Mr. Woodruff of Bradford andmoved to 
 Rockford, thence to Ilaciue. Here he connected himself with a manu- 
 facturing establishment. From here he went to Chicago. He made one 
 more removal — to Iowa, where he was elected State Senator, and held the 
 office at the time of his death. 1 must add that the bones of the Indian 
 were forgotten, and lie sent to his cousin for them, while in Rockford. 
 His cousin opened the box, added a good supply of beef and pork bones 
 and sent them on. History does not tell us whether the science of sur- 
 gery was greatly aided thereby or not." 
 
 The "Old Chicago Road" has been mentioned by several writers and 
 is a familiar name to every old settler, as the stage and mail route from 
 the Lake Shore to Galena. 
 
 Starting from "the river" as everyone called Chicago in an early day, 
 the ox teams went on to Berry's Point, nine miles; to Brush Hill, twenty; 
 to Napervilje thirty; to Aurora, crossing Fox River forty miles out. At 
 Sugar Grove Cyrus Ingham's sign "entertainment" hung out. Then Big 
 Rock ten miles; Little Rock four miles farther and Somananc six. From 
 here to Indian Creek or Ross' Grove ten miles; to East Paw Paw four, 
 where Wirrick's tavern stood; through Melugin's Grove six miles, and 
 Inlet six. Here was David Tripp's tavern — and here the Franklin Grove 
 
 — 212 — 
 
men left the "old road." 
 
 Squire Haskell had the postoftice and stage station at Inlet, and at 
 what was Cephas Clapp's place in Lee Centre old Whittaker hung out • 
 his "sign." This was three bottles hung between two poles 
 
 At Temperance Hill good Mr. and Mrs. Hannum furnished a very 
 different entertainment in their sod house. Next was Dr. Gardner's, 
 then six miles further on was "Dixon's Ferry." 
 
 The trips over this road were long or short, as the roads varied; men 
 slept under their wagons, and carried food and fodder from home, as they 
 went over it to sell grain and get the few luxuries they could afford. 
 Often teams had to be "doubled up" to pull through a bad "slough." 
 Wagons must be pried out with fence rails, and sometimes the rails 
 were laid in a corduroy road, over the worst places. Sometimes the 
 wagons were driven into a stream, end boards taken out, and a bridge 
 made over which the grain was carried. Men made little but they spent 
 less, on these trips. An illustration of this is given by Charles Hansen 
 who made his first trip with Otis Timothy, spending one shilling only, 
 for a dinner on what is now South Water Street, Chicago. As old Mod- 
 est Gehant used to say "They conld stand up under a good deal 
 then." 
 
 George Yale had a board shanty near the farm of Kincaid Runyan and 
 George O'Connor worked for him. One winter's night in a snow-storm, 
 they heard a cry for help, just as they had settled for the night, and 
 found a family which had strayed from the "old road" and were almost 
 perishing with cold, at their door. They were taken in, a new supper 
 cooked, and everything done to make them comfortable for the night. 
 Just as they were ready for the night a second time a second call was 
 heard, and another party, lost in the same way begged a shelter. So 
 covers were stretched, teams crowded closer, children put to sleep on 
 boxes and trunks, and the fire piled with fresh logs. Another supper 
 was made ready, and as hearty a welcome given as if they had been the 
 first. The one small room was so crowded that the elders could not 
 sleep, so George took his violin and played the rest of the night, while 
 those who could get room enough danced, "till broad daylight." 
 
 On one of his trips Charles Hansen sold his wheat so well that on his 
 return he traded one yoke of his oxen for a fine dark bay horse which he 
 called "Bill." In Saumanauc he traded the other yoke for a chestnut 
 called "Old Baldie." Leaving his wagon and yokes he rode the forty 
 miles bareback to Dixon, where he bought a harness of James and Hor- 
 ace Benjamin, and went back for his wagon. When he reached the 
 
 — 213 — 
 
Grove, his team created quite a sensation; James Holly and Charles Har- 
 rison calling out "Why there's Old Barney!" It proved that they had 
 known the horse in Ohio, where Holly had owned him, and often driven 
 him to Harrison's when he was "courtinjj^." Among other stories they 
 told how he had once pitched Holly out at the gate, and jumped the 
 fence, drawing the sleigh after him. When Holly got up he was aston- 
 ished to see Barney quietly standing in the yard, apparently waiting for 
 the pretty girl to open the door. At any rate Barney was the only fel- 
 low Holly ever allowed to court his girl, and the old horse worked long 
 and faithfully. Although not an old settler in every sense, he was a pio- 
 neer of 1835. 
 
 Adam Vroman bought out Holly and Harrison and they went to 
 Iowa. 
 
 "Little Mike" Brewen and O'Connor lived with Mchael McFarland, 
 near Sproul's farm, three jolly old bachelors from Ireland. McFarland 
 used to ask "Now what's the news? No News? Faith then, if there's 
 no news it's good news, for there's no bad news." 
 
 One old settler remembers that on these trips they sometimes had to 
 eat a frozen lunch, and that Streator used to soak his in whiskey, and 
 brandish it above his head, as he drove along. A nother story is of a man 
 who sold his load for twelve dollars, and felt so rich that he got a pair 
 of boots. He had no box on his wagon, only a rack, and as he forded the 
 river near Geneva, the boots got loose and were washed down stream 
 beyond recovery. He says he never shall forget his feelings as he 
 watched them floating down the stream. 
 
 John Hartzell once lost his oxen on his way out of Chicago, and sup- 
 posed they were stolen, but unwilling to give up hope, he returned and 
 renewed his search. On this second trip he met a pleasant German 
 girl, to whom he proposed marriage and was accepted. He found his 
 oxen soon after and came back doubly rich, 
 
 "Blast it!" says an old settler, "we used to go to Chicago for two shil- 
 lings! But those days are gone by." 
 
 Hugh Moore came west from New Hampshire in 1836. In 1837 we 
 hear of him as one of a company formed to protect actual settlers in 
 their claims. His brother Kufus came with him, James in 1835 — all 
 three are dead. Hugh was greatly respected in Lee county; was a public- 
 spirited man who did much for the good of the people in an early day 
 His claim was made near Grand Detour; his son James lived just west of 
 Dixon for years. It is related of one of their ancestors that on his voy- 
 age to this country from Scotland, in 1710, food became so scarce that 
 
 — 214 — 
 
at last the company cast lots to decide which one should be sacrificed to 
 save the rest. The lot fell on this ancestor. During the night as he 
 prayed to be prepared to die a son was added to his family and the re- 
 mainder of the company decided not to take the life of a man who would 
 leave a wife and eight helpless children in a new country. They came 
 to land before it was necessary to choose a substitute. The child born 
 that night grew up and reared a large family, some of whom became 
 prominent citizens and toolc good rank at Yale and Harvard. 
 
 My grandfather has often told me the story of how her children took 
 care of her, as they thought, when grandfather went on his long trips to 
 Chicago or Peru with grain. She was Ave miles from neighbors, and 
 fearful of Indians, of wolves, of claim jumpers, and much else that was 
 more indefinite. Once when she had kept the children awake as long as 
 possible, for company, after they had one by one dropped off to sleep, she 
 was terribly frightened by a sudden rush and crash at the half-sash win- 
 dow of the cabin. She sat, too frightened to move, for a time, but at 
 last gathered courage to hang a blanket before the opening. Then she 
 waited in fear and trembling till morning — only to see the window sash 
 hung round the neck of her good old cow. 
 
 But the children all felt sure that they had saved mother from wild 
 beasts and Indians, and assured their father that each had done his part 
 when he came home. And so they had, dear children! Had they not 
 watched and prayed and then trusted the Good Father, Who did care for 
 her? Minnie A. Hausen. 
 
 fl Vet€:raT2 of tBe JMrnistr/. 
 
 The Rev. Barton Cartwright, being asked for a paragraph, sends us 
 the following, in the trembling hand of a veteran of eighty-three years: 
 
 "I was born in Auburn, New York, in 1810. I came to Illinois in 
 1833, and met Black Hawk on his way to Washington prison. 
 
 "The first Sunday in May, that year, I held my first meeting in Illi- 
 nois, in Warren county. I formed the first class in April. But you want 
 something of your own field. Rev. James McKean was our first preacher 
 in that part of the country. He preached all through what are now Ogle, 
 Lee and Whiteside counties. 
 
 "I was sent on the circuit in 1837. I went from north of Byron to 
 
 ~ 215 — 
 
Fulton, then to Dixon, where I preached in a school house, at Franklin 
 in Edward Morgan's cabin, at Sterling in Brother Bush's house, at Mt. 
 Morris in a small school house, preaching every day but Saturday. 
 
 "Once I rapped at a cabin door just as the mother was regretting 
 their coming so far from religious privileges, and the father cheerfully 
 answering 'the preachers will be here soon.' 
 
 "In the winter of 1836-7 I went to New York in a "jumper," through 
 Canada, Rochester and Syracuse. 
 
 "On the circuit I generally went on horseback, and often swam the 
 Rock or the Mississippi by the side of a skiff, to reach my appointments- 
 April 9, 1839, I went to conclude a very pleasant engagement with Miss 
 Benedict, in the presence of Rev. Thomas Hitt, at the home of her step- 
 father, James Clark. 
 
 "As I came through Warren county a man joined me, and rode by my 
 side as far as Dixon. When I reached Mr. Clark's Col. Sealey and a 
 constable from Portland were just behind, and I might have been arrested 
 for being in the company of a counterfeiter, if I had not been well known. 
 As the man had been seen with me, they thought he might still be near. 
 They caught him at Inlet, and I was able to take ray part in the wedding 
 ceremony without interruption. 
 
 "Once when 1 arrived at a house quite late, the owner gave me a bed 
 on the floor, and grudgingly told me he 'had an uncle who was eaten out 
 of house and home by Methodist preachers.' 'Ah,' said I, 'they must 
 have had sharp teeth. What is my bill?' 'One dollar.' 
 
 "Strange to say, I had the money and paid it, though it was a very 
 rare thing to find anyone willing to take pay from a preacher. Two years 
 after the man wanted some office and that dollar seemed to be in his way. 
 He wanted to return it to me, but 1 told him to 'send it to his poor 
 uncle.' " 
 
 -Sifa-S P. Tofrwevra. 
 
 Silas P. Tolman, in the fall of 18.37, left New York state with his 
 family enroute for the undeveloped west. 
 
 After a journey of about eight weeks with three horse-teams, one to 
 convey the family, the other two the household goods, he arrived at a 
 point in Illinois now known as Inlet Grove. 
 
 — 216 — 
 
Probably the distance traveled, which at that time required eight 
 we(;ics. could with present lacilities be covered in ai)out twenty-four 
 hdurs. 
 
 The faiuily remained at this point (Inlet Grove) during? the winter, 
 but early in the spring of ':5S resumed their journey and pitched their 
 tt'iit upon the present siie iif the village of Franklin Grove. After pur- 
 chasing a claim of tliree hundred and twenty acres the subject of this 
 skelcii proceeded lo make a home for himself and loved ones. 
 
 lie first built a log house or cal)in for temporary use but soon there- 
 after erected a more substantial dwelling, the second frame house built 
 in Franklin Grove. This same house, with some modern improveiuents, 
 is at the present time occupied by his son, A. W. Tolman. 
 
 During the war of 1812 our subject served as drummer-boy. 
 
 Lucy B. Tolman-Cook. 
 
 Pior2s:(s:riT2G| \V sstwaLrcl. 
 
 The old schooner "Saunup" hove to, and a small boat put ofT over the 
 blite waves of the Narragansett for the city of Providence. In the boat 
 was a l»oy charged with the task of bringing his mother and five younger 
 children from Maine to the far off prairies of Illinois. He was a well- 
 built, energetic lad— the short history of his sixteen years is soon told. 
 His father, Charles Hausen Sr., had moved from the old homestead at 
 liristt>l. in Maine, with his wife and older children — Henry, Harrison, 
 Harriet, Charles, Jane and Sylvanus— to "Old Button," later Glenburn, 
 near Pangor, where he hoped to purchase and improve a large tract of 
 land for his sons. 
 
 Here he built the house (about 1825) which is still standing. 
 
 Finding that his friends who had emigrated west found ample farms 
 unencumbered by stone, tree or hill, Mr. Hausen decided to come also. 
 Several neighlK)rs having located near Dixon's Ferry, the two older sons, 
 Henry and Harrison, started in 1838 with Philip Stahl to secure land. 
 They were twenty-two and twenty respectively, and made the long trip 
 with that brave spirit which characterized the early pioneers. 
 • Having sold the farm, two years later, the summer of 1840, the father 
 came to prepare a home, leaving the boy Charles to bring the family of 
 younger children later. 
 
 — 217 — 
 
Tn vSepteiuber they started, the mother grieving to leave the ancient 
 landmarks of her life, the grave of her little daughter, and the friends of 
 youth and womanhood. From the Penobscot they shipped in the 
 schooner "Sanup,"and anchoring in Narragansett Bay for supplies from 
 Providence, we find the pioneer boy accompanying the sailors to land. 
 The voyage had been pleasant after the seasickness had worn off. The 
 remembrance of good Capt. Parker's stories, the songs of the sailors and 
 their shouts in the rigging, the kindness of the burly negro cook, who 
 made special bowls of soup for the seasick lad, filled his heart to over- 
 flowing. Never in the long years after did he find, it seemed to him, 
 such sincere friends as those on this trip from the old home to the new. 
 
 At New York City they took a steamboat to Albany. From Albany 
 to Buffalo the voyage was made in the tedious canalboat, their experience 
 in being bumped out of bunk at night being anything but pleasant. 
 
 The old lake boat "Gen. Wayne" brought them to Toledo. At Toledo 
 they landed, taking the little corduroy railroad thirty miles to Adrian, 
 Michigan, a stage ride of seven miles further bringing them -'to the 
 woods" where the Sears family lived, who had been near neighbors for 
 years in Glenburn. Here they rented a house of a man named Batchelor 
 and unpacking what goods were needed, the mother and little folks re- 
 cuperated from the long journey. 
 
 The day before they arrived a son of Mr. Batchelor had died and 
 shortly after they moved in his house he came over and gave the boy 
 Charles work at "girdling.^' Taking him to the very tree where his son 
 had last worked he told him of his own boy. The "girdlings" were trees 
 "girdled" to kill thera, and at these tough old forest monarchs he spent 
 the next six weeks, getting fifty cents a day. This small sum meant 
 much to the family moving so far into a new settlement. His hands 
 blistered and swelled, but what of that, had not his father trusted him 
 to bring out the mother and children? He must take a man's part in 
 
 life. 
 
 After a time Mr. Penfield, of Inlet, Lee county, Illinois, arrived, sent 
 by the father at Franklin Grove for them. Part of the goods were packed 
 in the tightest possible manner, the rest sold, and the family took up the 
 journey again. 
 
 It was fall and quite cold, but the greatest difficulty was that but one 
 wagon had come. In this Mrs. Hansen, her little girls Faustina and 
 Kate, aged twelve and ten years, and her little boy Norman, of eight, 
 rode; Sylvanus walking part and Charles all the way from Adrian to the 
 Franklin Creek. 
 
 — 218 — 
 
It was December and the early snows fell thickly; the wolves howled 
 afar t)ff around the taverns: the way was lonj^ and weary, but their faces 
 were steadfastly toward the new west. 
 
 'Tliese gardens of the desert, 
 Tiie unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful, 
 For wliich the speech of England has no name— 
 
 The prairies." 
 
 Arriving at Inlet Mr. PenHeld put up at his own home for the niglit, 
 the family goin^fon to their friend's — Russel Lynn's. But for our boy? 
 He had come nearly forty ujiles that day, but only seven miles off were 
 father, brother, home! He and Syivanus pushed forward, leaving mother 
 and sisters to rest. It was dark when they reached the frame house of 
 Col. Nathan Whitney, now the vinegar house at A. R. Whitney's nurs- 
 ery, and the kind old man arose from the supper table to direct them. 
 Going part way down the hill he pointed to the light in the window of 
 Yales' house, saying "Follow the light, boys, and you will get there all 
 right." 
 
 On reaching Yale's cabin, which stood near where Ferris Rarasdell's 
 orchard is, they crossed the creek and came to the "Noe house" vacated 
 the winter before by Amos Ilussey and occupied by the father and sons 
 while looking over the land and deciding on a location. This house stood 
 about a mile and a quaiter west of the present site of the railroad depot 
 in the village and a quarter of a mile north of W. H. Hansen's present 
 residence on his "Grove Stock Farm." 
 
 Tired, but satisfied, they lay down to rest too weary to talk. The 
 boy's task was accomplished when the team brought the family and 
 goods the next morning. The house was made of logs with puncheon 
 floor, door and furniture. A fireplace answered for stove, a cross-leg 
 puncheon bench for table, puncheon benches three feet long for chairs, 
 bunks against the walls for i)eds. Pegs along the wall were the only 
 staircase to the loft overhead, but the beds the mother brought were 
 warm. Young blood flowed swiftly and life was all before them. 
 
 On Monday morning the pioneer boy began work for Col. Whitney, 
 doing his first day's work in Illinois in the barn still standing opposite the 
 vinegar house. He helped set out the orciiard and shade trees in the 
 northern part of the nursery. The good colonel's wife said no one cut her 
 such neat, measured sticks of wood as Charles did. Her quiet manners, 
 little kindnesses and gentle praise won his boyish heart, and placed her 
 higli in his lifelong esteem. 
 
 The two talked together as they worked— the man with the rich ex- 
 
 — 219 — 
 
perience in army and civil life, and the boy with his first, fresh impres- 
 sions and ardent hopefulness — and as they planted the trees thoughts 
 and principles springing from the sage councils took root in the boy's 
 heart, to bring fruitage in manhood. 
 
 The father of the family purchased the land now owned by S. C. Han- 
 sen and built a commodious frame house two or three years later. The 
 boards for it were sawn in Whipple's mill near where "Whipple's Cave" 
 is and were of oak and walnut, the shingles being as long as barrel staves. 
 
 W. H. Hansen, the oldest son, took the land lying east and has passed 
 his life there. Besides improving and importing his herd of stock he 
 cultivated his fruit trees until in September, 1872, he was able tO ship 
 ninety-seven varieties of apples and fifteen varieties of pears to the Iowa 
 State Fair. 
 
 Harrison took the land lying west of his father's and resides still at 
 the same place, and as fast as the other sons became of age they pur- 
 chased land lying near, until nearly all that lying west of the village of 
 Franklin Grove for three miles and including large portions of adjoining 
 timber has become their property. 
 
 Life was hard in those days, but it meant much. Privations were 
 patiently borne, schools were poor and the term short. The nearest doc- 
 tor was that good old man, Dr. Gardner. For preaching they were 
 dependent on the itinerants who with Bible and saddle-bags made infre- 
 quent but welcome visits. 
 
 Yet life had its joys as the years came and went — spelling schools, 
 singing schools, "bees," parties and sleigh rides in "bob-sleds." 
 
 Every new pioneer was welcome to the best any house or cabin con- 
 tained, and among those surroundings the pioneer boy of Maine grew up 
 
 into sturdy, vigorous manhood. 
 
 MiNNTE A. Hausen. 
 
 E. G. T^orrzas. 
 
 E. C. Thomas, of Franklin Grove, Hlinois, was born at Batavia, New 
 York, Novembor 9, 1813. His mother was Rebecca Campbell, of Scotch 
 descent. His father, Silas Thomas, was of Puritan stock. When yet a 
 babe, he moved with his parents to East and West Bloomfleld, New York. 
 In 1823 he moved to Porter, Niagara county, New York, and in 1835 mar- 
 
 — 220 — 
 
ried Mary Ann Nichols, of Wilson, Niagara county, New York. 
 
 In 1836, with his wife, he started for Michigan going via canal from 
 Lockport to Buffalo, and steamer to Detroit, settling in Oakland county, 
 Michigan. They remained here three years, Mr. Thomas working for 
 $13.00 a month. During this time they were visited by John Nichols, 
 father of Mrs. Thomas, who went to Illinois and reported so favorably of 
 the country, that Mr. Thomas and wife concluded to move there, and, 
 purchasing a team and wagon they, with their two children, Mary and 
 William Henry, started for Illinois in 1839. On their way they passed 
 through Chicago which was then a small town built in a low marshy 
 place and they stopped in the vicinity of what is now Franklin Grove. 
 Their first night in this vicinity was spent in Whipple's cave, and the 
 next day they moved into a shanty twelve feet square, built by Mr. 
 Nichols. In building the shanty a fallen tree was used as one side of the 
 building. The roof consisted of split hollow logs. The next spring they 
 moved into a house built near the old homestead. 
 
 In August, 1842, Mary Ann Thomas, wife of E. C. Thomas, died leav- 
 ing a babe, Ruby Thomas, and the two children before mentioned. Soon 
 after her death Mary Duncan, sister of Mr. Thomas, took the three child- 
 ren to McHenry county, Illinois, and cared for them. 
 
 The sickness of Mrs. Thomas completely exhausted the resources of 
 Mr. Thomas, and as a result the sheriff levied on and sold his property 
 to satisfy the doctor's bill. 
 
 In the winter of 1842 Mr. Thomas went to the lead mines near 
 Galena, Illinois, where for some time he worked at fifty cents a day in 
 order to get money to make another start. He brought back to his for- 
 mer home $30 in silver with which he purchased a yoke of three-year-old 
 steers and a sled. In October, 1845, Mr. Thomas married Harriet A. 
 Whitmore and again commenced farming with his oxen and sled. At 
 that time there were only about fi ve wagons in that part of the state. 
 
 As a result of this union there were ten children, of whom all are now 
 living except Ella Josephine, who died at the age of two and one-half 
 years. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Thomas, among many hardships and privations, lived 
 and prospered. Mr. Thomas had the misfortune to lose his beloved wife 
 in October, 1867. Thereafter he devoted himself to his children and at 
 the age of 79 years is remarkably active and well. 
 
 Mary C. Thomas. 
 
"Mot-Ssr" BrexHstrs-et. 
 
 Mrs Bradstreet, formerly Clarissa Todd, was born in Litchfield, Con- 
 necticut, April 27, 1800. She was the tenth child of Samuel and Mary 
 (Dudley) Todd. Her father served seven years in the Revolutionary war, 
 returning uninjured. She received her early education from her grand- 
 father Dudley, who had been a school-master for years. Six of her 
 brothers and sisters taught the pioneer schools in New York. Being very 
 energetic and faithful she cared for her parents with marked tenderness 
 and thrift until September 10, 1820, when she was married to Daniel 
 Moore Bradstreet. In 1831 she was converted, and united with the M. E. 
 Church in the spring of that year. The mother of twelve children, she 
 buried seven in New York, and in 1844 came to Illinois to rear her 
 remaining five. Hers was the rough lake voyage and long jaunt over the 
 prairie in a wagon from Chicago to Hugh Moore's cabin, near what is 
 now Grand Detour. Her husband entered a claim at Dixon and moved 
 his family to "Hoosier Hill." In 1864 the family moved to Franklin 
 Grove, where her life was pleasantly passed. She died August 25, 1889. 
 Her funeral sermon was preached from her chosen text, II Timothy 4, 
 7, 8, by Eev. E. D. Hull of Kingston, assisted by Rev. G. M. Bassett, her 
 
 pastor. She rests in peace. 
 
 Minnie A. Hausen. 
 

 MRS CLARISSA BRADSTREET. 
 
D. M. Braa^treet. 
 
 Mr. Bradstreet was a pioneer of 1844. 
 
 He was born in Vermont November 6, 1795, of English and Scotch 
 ancestry. His father was of an aristocratic family who held high offices 
 in church and state in New England. His mother was Martha Jane 
 Moore, whose people were Scotch and lived near Londonderry, New 
 Hampshire. Her first ani;estor to this shore was James Moore, who 
 came in April, 1719. He married a Mack. Mr. Bradstreet, named Daniel 
 Moore for his mother's people, was brought up by his greatuncle, Robert 
 Mack, until manhood, when he moved to New York, where he was en- 
 gaged in milling. 
 
 His mother remained with her father's family until his majority, 
 when he did all to make her life one of comfort, he being dutiful and 
 particularly attached to her. His brother, William Bradstreet, was a 
 hotel keeper after moving to New York from New Hampshire. 
 
 In 1820 he married Miss Clarissa Todd, a daughter of Samuel and 
 Mary Dudley Todd, who made him an exemplary wife, his married life 
 being one of noticable happiness. 
 
 In 1830 he was converted and united with the M. E. Church, for which 
 denomination he preached, exhorted and helped in revivals from time to 
 time, his wife greatly aiding him by her wise counsels and rare exper- 
 iences. Having lost his fortune in the years of commercial disaster he 
 came to Illinois in 1844. 
 
 He lived on the claim he entered at Dixon, converting it into a beau- 
 tiful country h,ome, until 1864, when he retired from active life and 
 resided in quiet and comfort at his home in Franklin Grove. 
 
 He was a very strong Republican and took great interest in politics. 
 Having been a major in a company in New York drilled for the 1812 war, 
 his grave is reverently covered with the flag and with flowers each 
 Memorial Day. He died May 15, 1877, at the advanced age of eighty-one 
 and was buried with honor from the M. E. Church of Franklin Grove and 
 escorted by the G. A. R. and a very large concourse of citizens and chil- 
 dren, the public schools being clo.sed in respect, being laid away under 
 the last salute of the soldiers. 
 
 — 227 — 
 
Col. Whitney, with long white hair, sat at the foot of the coffin during 
 the funeral services— the last of the 1812 veterans in the vicinity — the 
 Major having gone on, and the Colonel awaiting the surumons of depar- 
 ture. Minnie A. Hausen. 
 
 "floosierr Hiff " Fof^s. 
 
 IN 1844 AND LATER. 
 
 A beautiful stretch of country situated five miles east of Rock River, 
 with its groves and prairies, was in those early days called "Hoosier 
 Hill," as the Hoosier population outnumbered the Yankees. There were 
 many families from Kentucky also, and one of whom, by nameof Ferrell, 
 greatly endeared themselves to us, and when my mother met them and 
 heard the cordial greeting of "Howdy, Howdy!" she felt that she had 
 found friends in this new country who doubtless would prove true as 
 those left behind. Their ways of living and talking were very different 
 from ours and often amusing. P^)r instance, on inquiring after the 
 health of Mr. Ferrell his good old wife would say, "O, John is no account," 
 meaning he was sick, and their "lots and slivers," representing quantity, 
 sounded very odd to the Yankees. 
 
 Before the lands came into market the pioneers made preemption 
 claims and built cabins and went on improving the lands until they 
 could be entered at Dixon. Lee county was not set off from Ogle. 
 
 One settler, a Mr. C, wanted to hold more claims than he could pay 
 for, and in that way kept the newcomers from settling up the prairies. 
 This greatly enraged the Hoosiers and when father came seeking a home 
 they turned out enmasse to cut logs and assist in building a double log 
 cabin. On the eve of its erection mother and five small children were 
 landed on the broad prairie encircling it. Just then Mr. C. rode up and 
 threatened to tear the cabin down. This the Hoosiers resented and they 
 rallied their friends and came that first night to fight if need be in our 
 defense. They divided into two squads; the first squad watched until 
 two o'clock a. m. and no enemy appearing they decided on having a little 
 fun. First thev took all the caps and boots of the party sleeping and hid 
 them; then they rattled the boards and screamed like Indians on the 
 warpath, awakening the sleepers, who, thinking the enemy upon them, 
 
 — 228 — 
 
rushed out bareheaded and barefooted, snatching their rude weapons, 
 cudgels, tongs and pokers, to the scene of the supposed conflict. No 
 sooner done than their places were filled upon the floors by the first party 
 of watchers. It took some little time before the half-dazed, half-awak- 
 ened sleepers understood they were the subjects of a practical joke, and 
 then what a chorus of cheers went up from that new cabin! 
 
 The years went on and the family became warm friends with their 
 early foe, who now sleeps the long, long sleep. The others, also, have 
 "moved on to silent habitations." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Ferrell are buried at Payne's Point, and the pioneer and 
 wife whom they befriended, are at rest in Franklin Grove Cemetery. 
 
 Mary Bradstrbet-Hausen. 
 
 NatBaT2i0Lf Yafs a.T23 FaT22if^. 
 
 Nathanial Yale, with family, settled in Lee county, near what is now 
 known as Franklin Grove, in the year 1836. At that time there wereonly 
 three families within a radius of eight or possibly ten miles. There was 
 no land under cultivation in that vicinity, but several parties had taken 
 up claims by plowing a furrow around the portion of land selected. The 
 country was inhabited principally by prairie wolves, deer, and a variety 
 of wild game. 
 
 At that early day there was no trading post nearer than Aurora, Kane 
 county. 
 
 The Yale family first settled on what is now known as the Hussey 
 farm, but afterwards built a log cabin on the banks of the Franklin 
 Creek near the culvert. After remaining there for a number of years 
 they removed to another farm east of town, locating permanently. 
 Fighting prairie fires was no unusual experience and at night the howl- 
 ing of the wolves increased the gloom and loneliness of pioneer life. 
 
 The family consisted of ten children, six boys and four girls, of whom 
 five have died, four live in Iowa, and one, Charlotte Tolman, is still living 
 in Franklin Grove. Lucy B. (Tolman) Cooke. 
 
Tfje. PloT2es.re, of TeT3^pe:raT2G^ Hiff. 
 
 In writinj? a sketch of Temperance Hill and vicinity I had much pre- 
 ferred that a more competent person had been selected, for in reference 
 to the earliest settlements or prior to 184.") my memory is not very distinct. 
 
 My father, John Leake, came from Leicestershire, England, landing 
 in New York June 10th, 1840. He immediately pushed on to the "far 
 west" and halted at Dixon's Ferry Here he secured employment for a 
 time. During that tirst year in the state he made a trip down the Miss- 
 issippi river to New Orleans. Here, friendless and alone, he lived "three 
 days on three ten cent pieces," then secured employment and prospered 
 for a time. Returning to Illinois, he was at Dixon's Ferry in time to 
 meet my mother and three boys, who arrived in August, 1841. Two of 
 my motiier's sisters, Mrs. Edward Willars and Mrs. Daniel Leake, with 
 their families, accompanied heron this long journey. Theys-et sail from 
 Liverpool, England, in a sailing vessel and were thirty-four days on the 
 waters, then tiiey traversed the Hudson River to Albany, New York, 
 then across New York by canal to Buffalo, then via the lakes to Chicago, 
 then by wagon to Dixon's Ferry. After a little time my father secured 
 a claim. Then a cabin was built by setting rude posts in the ground, 
 rooting with boards, siding with shakes and chinking the cracks and crev- 
 ices with mud. In cold weather the outside was banked up with any 
 rough material that could be secured. To this little hut there was one 
 door, with the "latchstring hanging out," and one window, set so high 
 that persons sitting in the roou) could net see objects outside. Across 
 one end was set two beds lengthwise, which filled the space, but under 
 them the ground was the only floor. Table and chairs were not, but a 
 large box served for one and otlier rude things for the others. This one 
 room served all the purposes and conveniences of home. For lights at 
 night there was not even the pine knot so often used in the forests, for 
 the prairies were almost destitute of timber. A tin cup holding about a 
 pint was tilled with clay made hollow in the middle. In this center was 
 inserted a wire, wrapi)ed round several times with cloth, the hollow in 
 the clay was filled with lard, the top of the cloth lighted and so a lamp 
 was formed for the entire house. 
 
 In lighting fires, the tinder-box came into good use. Paper was 
 
 — 230 — 
 
burned, but before it reached the condition of ashes the Are was extin- 
 guished by placing a weight upon it in a box. This made the tinder. To 
 ignite this a sparlc of lire was thrown into the box l)y striking a piece of 
 steel with a Hint. This was touched with a home-made match (a piece 
 of wood dipped in brimstone), and thus a ilame was Ivindled. 
 
 By selling his coat my father was enabled to buy a cow, and by labor- 
 ing for twenty-five cents per day and taking for payment anything that 
 could be used in the family continuous living was maintained. The 
 scarcity of money in those early times made these things necessary. 
 
 The winter of 1843-44 was very severe, set in early and continued late. 
 Much suffering among the early settlers resulted, and also much loss of 
 stock through lack of feed and shelter. We were driven from our shanty 
 by a snowstorm in November. Whether our parents slept any that night 
 or not I can not say, but when we children woke in the morning our beds 
 and everything in the room were covered with snow. We were hurried 
 off to my uncle's. Mr. E. Willars, who lived in a log house. Following 
 tliis hard winter were smail and inferior crops. The wheat was smutty 
 and made poor flour. The mills here and there established had not 
 proper machinery to clean it out, so the flour was often of a dark hue and 
 made darker bread. My eldest brother, William .1. Leake, then a lad of 
 eleven years, was frequently sent to Meek's Mill a distance of seven or 
 eight miles with a "grist."' He would ride a pony with a bushel or bushel 
 and a half of wheat in a sack, thrown across the pony's back. When 
 this was ground the flour was put in one end of the sack and the l)ran in 
 the other, then boy and sack were mount,ed on the pony and rode home. 
 
 Many of earth's nobility settled on these prairies in those early days. 
 Mr. B. liannuni opened his house for the accommodation of travelers. 
 Mrs. H. was a careful housekeeper. She used to say, "1 always had a 
 place for everything, and everything in its place," so, if people stopped 
 there once they were almost sure to come again. Their house was also 
 open for the preaching of the gospel on the Sabbath day. Mr. H. was a 
 strong temperance man. Once, in helping a neighbor at threshing time, 
 his principles were put to the test. There was pudding on the dinner 
 table with brandy seasoned sauce; when Mr. H. perceived this he refused 
 it and asked for some without the sauce. I|v his influence and wish the 
 vicinity was called Temperance Hill. Here, too. was a station of the 
 ''underground railroad" of early abolition times. John Cross kept the 
 farm now owned by Mr. William Woolcott. He had an excellent wife, 
 three daughters and two sons. Their house was made a shelter for many 
 a poor slave seeking liberty in the Dominion of Canada. 
 
 — 231 — 
 
The faith, courage and perseveretice of the early settlers was phenom- 
 enal. They pressed on, nothing daunted. My mother used to say she 
 never felt afraid of her children wanting bread in this country if they 
 had their health, but she did have that fear in England. Oh! those early 
 years! their memoi'y is full of brightness to me. From April to Novem- 
 ber the prairies were a perpetual flower garden of ever varying hue. Wild 
 game was abundant; in summer and autumn the groves were full of 
 fruits and nuts; nearly all the year round the streams furnished fish for 
 our tables. 
 
 Those who maintained their homes through industry and frugality 
 secured a competency and some gained wealth, while those who lived in 
 idleness or unrest came to poverty. Thomas Leake. 
 

FATHER DIXON. 
 
^^Marc^^i/ette." 
 
 ■•The good missionary, discoverer of a world, had fallen asleep on the margin of 
 the stream that bears his name- Near its mouth the canalmon dug his grave in the 
 sand."— Bancrofts Hist. U- S. 
 
 A warrior falls— the battefleld 
 
 Hath trumpet echoes for his fame; 
 A patriot dies, and nations yield 
 
 Large tribute to embalm his name; 
 A chieftain sinks, and far resound 
 
 Proud eulogies; of doubtful birth, 
 God's lowly servant rest hath found. 
 
 Unnoted by the wise of earth. 
 
 Of him no lettered marbles tell. 
 
 None rear the monumental pile; 
 For him no pealing organ's swell 
 
 Floats down the long cathedral aisle; 
 There, but the tall pine's branches sweep; 
 
 There, wild vines dewy blossoms spread- 
 The forest rills with wailing deep 
 
 Are winding round his narrow bed. 
 
 But humble hearts, and faithful tears. 
 
 With few and simple words to heaven, 
 Mourned by his grave— whose sunny years 
 
 To show the better path, were given; 
 Who on his Master's mission came 
 
 To cheer, to harmonize, to bless; 
 The first to breathe that holy name, 
 
 Amid the smiling wilderness. 
 
 Deeply his gentle mind was stirred. 
 
 With fervent trust his soul imbued. 
 When low the warning voice was heard. 
 
 In the grey cloister's solitude. 
 For him the world was passing by. 
 
 In drowsy pageant dusk and cold. 
 Ambition held her lure on high. 
 
 Wealth vainly spread her nets of gold. 
 
 — 237 — 
 
One cause, one truth, bound to advance, 
 
 With high resolve his spirit burned. 
 He gazed a last long look on France, 
 
 Then to the broad blue ocean turned . 
 And what to him was land or clime— 
 
 And what to him was gain or loss? 
 Called by the embassy sublime, 
 
 To teach the path, and plant the Cross. 
 
 Since then deceit, and crime, and strife, 
 
 Have swept that forest race away; 
 Scarce marked upon the page of life.' 
 
 Those heroes of the elder day — 
 Urged by all grasping avarice. 
 
 In friendly guise the foe has come. 
 With evil deed, and strange, device. 
 
 To seize the Indians" ancient home. 
 
 And skilled in falsehood's toi'tuous maze 
 
 With tongue and pen they've sought to brand 
 His lofty faith, that longed to raise 
 
 To light the sovereigns of the land. 
 His hope no earthly passion fed. 
 
 His moral strength no force could bind 
 The master spring, in love to spread, 
 
 God's pure dominion over mind. 
 
 At one dread tribunal arrayed, 
 
 When justide ope's the fearful scroll, 
 Among the accusers undismayed 
 
 In peace possess thy tranquil soul, 
 Perish the bauble wealth of fame— 
 
 Or conquest's meed, or empire's dross- 
 There is incribed thy righteous name, 
 
 Soldier and servant of the Cross. 
 
 Mks. Hugh (Leslie) Graham. 
 
Tfte Bf ae^ ftavvfi War. 
 
 "Lift we the twilight curtains of the Past 
 
 And, turning from familiar sight and sound. 
 
 Sadly and full of reverence let us cast 
 
 A glance upon Traditions shadowy ground." 
 
 We look backward through a loug vista of years, and, like a beautiful 
 picture see our own fair county. There are the green, unbroken praries. 
 stretching away mile after mile, traversed by deer, antelope, and vast 
 herds of buffalo. Forests, dark with the shade of oak and ash, of hickory 
 and walnut. Rock River, winding in and out by bluffs and valleys, its 
 clear waters reflecting the flcjwers that grew on its banks, and the grand 
 old eagle that built her eyrie on many a rocky crag. We see too a strange, 
 wild race inhabiting this wilderness. The silent moccasined foot of the 
 red man trod these forests, and his villages dotted the valleys. The 
 families constituting these villages, who lived, fought, and hunted to- 
 gether, were called tribes, and the heads of tliese tribes were called 
 chiefs. Their succession generally depended upon birth, and was in- 
 herited through the female line. The braves spent their time in idle- 
 ness, their wants being supplied by tlie squaws. The children were 
 educated in the school of nature. Their savage passions were roused by 
 tales of murder and battle, for the echoes of the war song never died 
 away. They loved bright colors, and when they made visits or assembled 
 in council they came in brilliant array, and a braves dress was often a 
 history of his life, so symbolic were his uses of color and figures. It 
 seems strange that these societies, or tribes, could be maintained with- 
 out laws, but their ways of governing grew out of necessities. There was 
 no public justice. Each man revenged himself. The power of the chief 
 depended largely upon his personality, if he was eloquent he could more 
 easily control his warriors. They were entranced by eloquence, and 
 would listen for hours to a chief or brave who possessed this talent. 
 Councils constituted their enjoyment, but war was their pathway to 
 fame. Solemn fasts preceeded their departure to battle, and they sang 
 
 * — 239 — 
 
their war songs, and danced the wild dances to better prepare them for 
 victory. 
 
 These Indians had no temples, nor priests, nor ceremony of religion. 
 The believed in a hereafter, and in a Great Spirit, but not in a general 
 resurection of the body. Their veneration for the dead excelled that of 
 all other nations, and the graves of their forefathers were sacred above 
 everything else to them. Other nations can point to art and literature 
 as the enduring mementoes of their ancestors, but the red man's only 
 history is his grave. It has been asked if these Indians were not the 
 wrecks of more civilized nations. Much has been said and written upon 
 this subject but the shadows are dim that glimmer across the voiceless 
 darkness of uncounted centuries, and time has buried one fact after 
 another in the grave of uncertainty. 
 
 The onward march of civilization was, however, bringing a strange 
 new enemy to dispute the Indians' claim to this lovely Rock River valley. 
 The Galena mines baving been opened, a tide of emigration from the 
 southern settlements swept along. In 1827 O. W. Kellogg made a trail 
 from Peoria, then Ft. Clark, through the wide prairie. He crossed Rock 
 River probably above Truman's island passed between Polo and Mt. Morris, 
 then west to West Grove, and north to Galena. In 1828 John Boles, bearing 
 to the west, crossed the river near the location of the present bridge, and 
 this became the common road. About this time the government establish- 
 ed a mail route from Peoria to Galena. The mail was carried on horsebaclc 
 once in two weeks. John Dixon, then Circuit clerk at Peoria, secured the 
 contract. He, as well as the traveling public, was ol)liged to cross the 
 river in canoes and swim their horses. J L. Bogardus in 1828 attempted 
 to establish a ferry but was driven away by the Indians, and his boat 
 burned. Soon after John Ogee, a half-breed Indian, built a cal)in and 
 ran a ferry until the spring of 1830, when he sold it to Father Dixon. A 
 postoffice had been established at Ogee's Ferry. Upon taking charge of 
 it Mr. Dixon was also appointed post master, and bis name given to l)otb 
 office and ferry. Many of the incidents of early pioneer life occurred 
 here, and men learned lessons of patriotism and pluck soon to be tested 
 and tried in the Black Hawk war, a brief history of which I am to give. 
 
 It is the history of the most picturesque and bloody Indian war of the 
 state. The true story of its stormy incidents and tragic end has never 
 been written, because never free from personal or partizan prejudice. It 
 is the story of the calling out of 8,000 volunteers and soldiers of the regu- 
 lar army, an outlay of two million dollars and a loss of 1,000 lives. Going 
 back to 1804, we And that on November 4th of that year General Harri- 
 
 — 240 — 
 
son made a treaty with the Sacs and Foxes by which they ceded all the 
 territory lyinf? between the Wisconsin, the Fox, the Illinois, and the 
 Mississippi rivers, with about one-third of Missouri. The land amounted 
 to about fifty million acres. For this they were to receive $1,000 a year. 
 By this treaty the Indians were permitted to live and hunt upon these 
 lands until sold for settlement by the government. A difference of 
 opinion regarding this clause was the origin of the struggle. However, 
 the treaty was reconfirmed in 1815, 1816 and again in 1822. Not far from 
 Rock Island, then Ft. Armstrong, was situated the chief Indian village, 
 Saukenauk. It was composed of 500 families, and surrounded by 3,000 
 acres of land in cultivation. Their forefathers were buried here, and the 
 affections and interests of the tribe centered around this village. This 
 tribe was divided into two bands, one friendly to Americans was led by 
 the Chief Keokuk. He was gifted with a rare eloquence, by means of 
 which he retained his influence in favor of the whites. The wild, turbu- 
 lent spirits, the chivalry of the nation, arrayed themselves under the 
 banner of Keokuk's rival. Black Hawk. It had been the policy of the 
 British during the period between the wars of the revolution and 1812 to 
 foster a spirit of hostility among the Indians toward the white settlers. 
 In the latter war Black Hawk had served as an aid to the great Tecum- 
 seh. Long after peace was declared he continued to visit Maiden, Canada, 
 to receive presents from the English. Black Hawk was distinguished for 
 courage, but was of a grave, melancholy disposition, disposed to brood 
 over imaginary wrongs. He was not a Tecumseh or a Pontiac. He had 
 not the military genius to plan a comprehensive scheme of action, yet he 
 made a bold attempt to unite all the Indians from Rock River to Mexico 
 in a war against the pale faees. Like Tecumseh he had his prophet 
 whose influence was groat in making recruits to the band. 
 
 In 1823, although the lands had not been surveyed, white settlers 
 began to S(iuat on the cultivated portions. Taking advantage of the 
 absence of the Indians on their annual hunt, they fenced in the corn 
 flelds, drove away the squaws and children, and even burned their lodges. 
 Disturbances naturally followed. In 1828 Gov. Reynold demanded the 
 expulsion of the Indians, and President Jackson ordered their removal 
 across the Mississippi before April 1, 1830. A portion of the tribe, with 
 Keokuk at its head retired peaceably. Black Hawk refused to abandon 
 the ancient village, and an arrangement was made with the settlers to 
 dwell together as neighbors. Encouraged by the government the squat- 
 ters practically took nossession of the land. No outbreak occurred until 
 1831, after the return from the annual hunt, when the Indians were 
 
 — 241 -- 
 
ordered to depart. Black Hawk replied with grcatdiyrnity that the lands 
 were his, and he would defend his rights and the graves of his people, 
 and threatened death to all who should remain. In response to com- 
 plaints from the settlers Gov. Reynolds, on May 20, 1831, made a call for 
 700 volunteers, and notified Gen. Gains, commanrlerof the military dis- 
 trict, to repair to Rock Island with a few companies of rejjulars. The 
 militia assembled at Beardstown to the number of 1.400 and were organ- 
 ized and ready to march by the 20th of June. 
 
 The brigade was put in command of Gen. Duncan of the state militia, 
 and marched to a point on the Mississippi, eight miles below the mouth 
 of Rock River. Here they joined Gen. Gaines with a steamboat and sup- 
 plies. When the troops reached the village next morning they found that 
 the Indians, alarmed by their numbers, had crossed the river. The 
 soldiers burned the lodges and returned to Rock Island. Black Hawk, 
 then, for the first time, ratified the treaty, and promised never to cross 
 the river without permission. The government also agreed to furnish a 
 large amount of corn and provisions, and thus ended the campaign of 
 1831. In 1832 the old chief again crossed the river, and directed his march 
 to the Rock River country, hoping to make the Pottowattomles and 
 Winnebagoes his allies. He might have succeeded in this plan had it 
 not been for Father Dixon's influence over these tribes. Gen. Atkinson 
 was then sent to Ft. Armstrong with regular troops. In response to the 
 governor's call for volunteers, four regiments, an odd battalion, a spy 
 battalion, and a foot battalion assembled in Beardstown in April and 
 were placed in command of Brig. Gen. Whitesidas. There were also two 
 mounted battalions numbering four hundred men, commanded by Major 
 Stillmari. The force consisted of 2,000 volunteers and 1,000 regulars. 
 Abraham Lincoln commanded a company in tiie 4th regiment, 
 and Sidney Breese held the position of 2iid lieutenant. The army 
 reached Ft. Armstrong May 7, 1832. They were there reinforced by Col. 
 Taylor in whose command was Lieut. Jeff Davis. It was here divided 
 into two wings. One was commanded by Gen. Atkinson, who proceeded 
 up tlie river by boats. The other, under Gen. Whitesides, marched by 
 land. Reaching Prophetstown they found it deserted. Pushing forward 
 they reached Dixon's Ferry May 12th. They found here tlie battalions 
 under Bailey and Stillman eager for battle and fame, and unwilling to 
 attach themselves to the main body. They were sent to Old Man's Creek 
 to coerce some hostile Indians at that point. Black Hawk, supposing 
 they were Atkinson's force, sent a flag of truce; but the rangers killed and 
 captured the messengers, save two. Upon their return Black Hawk tore 
 
 — 242 — 
 
the flag in tatters, and at the head of his warriors, with the war cry of 
 the Sacs, advanced to the charge. The volunteers beat a hasty retreat 
 and only halted when they reached Dixon's Ferry. This was called the 
 battle of Stillraan's Run, and the whites here lost eleven men, and had 
 several wounded. On May the 19th the entire army proceeded up the 
 river leaving Stillnian's men at Dixon. They, however, deserted, and 
 Gen. Atkinson returned with his men, while Gen. Whitesides, force went 
 in pursuit of the enemy. Black Hawk had divided his warriorsintosmall 
 bands, and they were sweeping down upon defenseless homes, killing and 
 scalping all who came in their path. Seventy Indians made a descent 
 upon the small settlement of Indian Creek, a tributary of Fox River, and 
 massacred fifteen persons belonging to the families of Hall, Davis and 
 Pettigrew. They took two young girls, prisoners, Silvia and Rachel Ilall. 
 After scalping their other victims they hurried these girls away by forced 
 marches beyond the reach of pursuit. They had a long and fatiguing 
 journey through a wilderness, with but little to eat, and were subjected 
 to a variety of fortune. At last their friends, through the chiefs of the 
 Winnebagoes, ransomed them for two thousand dollars, and they were 
 delivered at Dixon. The horrible experiences of that day, together with 
 the treatment they received, left its awful impress on their minds. In 
 after years my mother knew these girls, then grown to womanhood, and 
 it was an often remarked fact that they had never been seen to smile. 
 They would sit, silent and melancholy, for hours, taking no part in the 
 conversation, nor manifesting interest in their surroundings. 
 
 The volunteers becoming dissatisfied were uiustered out by Lieut. 
 Robert Anderson, of Ft. Sumpter fame. Gov. Reynolds again called for 
 2,000 men whose enlistment should be for the war. Gen. Scott was or- 
 dered to proceed from the east with 1,000 regulars, and while these were 
 being organized 300 volunteers were recruited from the disbanded com" 
 panics. General Whitesides and Abraliam Lincoln re-enlisted as privates 
 in this number. The new forces were divided into three brigades, witli 
 a spy battalion to each. Major Jolm Dement commanded one of these 
 battalions. The volunteers' force was also increased by a battalion under 
 Col. Henry Dodge. Posey's brigade was ordered between Galena and 
 Rock River. Alexander was dispatched to Phun River to intercept Hlack 
 Hawk, while Henry remained at Dixon with Gen. Atkinson. On June 
 6th Black Hawk led an attack on the fort at Apple River, the engage- 
 ment lasting fifteen hours. Here the women and children showed rare 
 courage and presence of mind, busying themselves during those awful 
 hours in moulding bullets. The enemy at length retreated after destroy 
 
 — 243 — 
 
ing everything in their path. On June 14th occurred the engaj^ement at 
 Pecatonica where Gen. Dodge pursued a party of Indians, who had mur- 
 dered some white settlers, until they took shelter under a higli bluff of 
 the river and there killed the whole party. Tliis charge was as brave 
 and brilliant as any on record in this or any other Indian war. 
 
 While passing through Burr Oaks grove June 16th a company 
 of soldiers were attacked by seventy warriors, but owing largely 
 to the courage of private Gen. Whitesides they were repulsed with great 
 loss. June 17th Uapt Stephenson had a skirmish with a party at Prairie 
 Grove where a number were killed. June 25th occurred the battle of 
 Kellogg's Grove. 
 
 Major John Dement with his battalion had received orders from Col. 
 Taylor at Dixon to defend their post. Accordingly he took position in 
 the heart of the Indian country. Learning that Black Hawk and a 
 large force were in the vicinity he went out with a party to reconoiter 
 and was suddenly attacked by 300 warriors. Finding himself in danger 
 of being surrounded by a superior force he slowly retired to his camp, 
 closely pursed by the enemy; here he took possession of Kellogg's first 
 log house. His defense was so brave, and his aim sosure that the Indians 
 finally retreated, leaving many dead upon the field. When the news of 
 the brittle reached Dixon's Ferry, Alexander's brigade was sent in the 
 direction of Plum River, while Gen. Atkinson marched toward Lake 
 Koshkoning, farther up Rock River. It was supposed Black Hawk had 
 concentrated his forces here with the intention of ending the war in a 
 general battle. Reaching this point July 2nd, no enenjy was found, and 
 being destitute of provisions Gen. Henry with Dodge's battalion which 
 had joined him was sent to Ft. Winnebago for supplies: hearing that 
 Black Hawk was in the vicinity they gave pursuit and on the 21st over- 
 took him in a ravine near the Wisconsin River. Amid the yells of the 
 Indians and the cries of the whites the battle raged until the Indians 
 were overpowered and driven from the field. The main army under Gen. 
 Atkinson having joined Henry and Dodge, the whole crossed the Wiscon- 
 sin River and on the 2nd of August overtook Black Hawk at the mouth 
 of the Bad Axe, where his warriors were defeated and dispersed. This bat- 
 tle broke the power of Black Hawk, who was taken prisoner August 27th 
 and delivered to the United States officers. The final treaty of peace was 
 signed September 21st. Black Hawk, Neopope, and the Prophet were 
 imprisoned at Fortress Monroe till June 4, 18.33. On parting with Col. 
 Eustis, the commander of the fort. Black Hawk addressed him with sim- 
 ple pathos: "The memory of your friendship will remain until the Great 
 
 — 244 - 
 
Spirit says that it is time for Black Hawk to sing his death song." Pre- 
 senting him with a beautiful hunting suit and some feathers of the white 
 eagle he said: "Accept these from Bhick Hawk and when he is far away 
 they will serve to remind you of him. May the Great Spirit bless you 
 and your children." 
 
 After a tour of the principal eastern cities Black Hawk was returned 
 to Ft. Armstrong August 1st, where he was made the ward of Keokuk. 
 He died October 3, 1840, at the age of eighty years, and was buried near 
 the Mississippi River, where no passer by bestows even the tribute of a 
 sigh to his memory, and his only reciuiem is the plaintive note of the 
 lone whippoorwill. August 15, 1832, the troops were mustered out at 
 Dixon's Ferry by Lieut. Robt. Anderson, and disbanded by General Scott. 
 Thus ended the Black Hawk war, which in our backward glance at time 
 we little understand or appreciate. Compared with the civil war it may 
 seem trivial, but not in proportion to the number of inhabitants and the 
 facilities. It was a war without roads or bridges, without railroads or 
 telegraphs, and without the modern equipments of to-day. It was a war 
 with barbariins, full of horrors which in these faraway days, no heart 
 can conceive, no longue can tell, and no pen can write. It was a war 
 between these rude children of nature clinging to kinsman, home, and 
 country, and a race of brave pioneers who saw in the future a rising na- 
 tion spread over this rude and fruitful land advancing to a destiny beyond 
 the reach of mortal eye. And, however, historians may disagree about 
 the right and wrong, none can deny that it was the means of hastening 
 the early settlement of northern Illinois by a better class of people than 
 in other portions of the state. 
 
 Dixon's P"'erry was at that time the central point of interest between 
 Chicago, then a small frontier post, and the Mississippi. The settlers 
 from Rockford »)ei rig obliged to go there for their mail. From 1829 to 
 1835 all the emigraticm to Galena and the lead iriines crossed the river 
 there. It was made up of all condition.s and sorts of men. There the 
 red man came Lo Itarter their furs, and there the chiefs gathered in sol- 
 emn council. There during the war the troops rendezvoused because it 
 was the most central position for supplies, and the most advantageous 
 ground for maneuvering both. There was built the most pretentious 
 fort in the state, It consisted of two block houses situated on the north 
 bank of the river a few rods west ef the ferr}. It was guarded by a com- 
 pany of infantry, thus assuring the safety of the crossing to all. There 
 the wandering red men bade a last farewell t.) their hunting grounds, 
 and sought a home beyond the great river, where they hoped to escape 
 
 — 245 — 
 
the onward march of the white man. There Father Dixon distributed 
 the forty thousand rations sent from Rock Island for them. There were 
 gathered citizen soldiers who had lield every office in the gift of tiie 
 people, and who had achieved honor and success. There at a little out- 
 post in a prairie wilderness was assembled a group of men whose fame 
 has spanned the world. Would that time permitted me to call the roll, 
 to, "Roll back the tide of time, and raise the faded forms of other days." 
 In fancy's dream we would see Father Dixon, tlie Hrst white settler, the 
 noble representative of a proud ambitious race, exchanging the courtesies 
 of life with untaught savages, and they called him friend. Born at a 
 time when the republic had a name but not a history, and gifted with 
 rare unseltlshness, justice and i)atriotism, he exerted ail his energies to 
 uplift degraded humanity. In the accomplishment of this mission he 
 was able to render most important service in the war, and won the re- 
 spect and friendship of the many eminent men of his acquaintance. His 
 roof sheltered all, friend and foe, and the Indian chiefs in solemn council 
 sat down to his table as honored guests. Though tilling many offices 
 acceptably, his chief interest was the advancement of the town which 
 bore his name, and for this he labored with generous and untiring zeal. 
 He had the honor of being a passenger on Fulton's first steamboat up the 
 Hudson and paid the tlrst fare the famous inventor received. A true 
 honest manhood crowned his life and his grave is hallowed by tlie loving 
 memories of the community. Peacefuily he sleeps, his dirge the rustle 
 of the leaves and the soft moan of the beautiful river he loved so well. 
 Under the same shadows lies one who when a lad of thirteen came 
 with his parents from the plains of Tennessee, seeking a new home in a 
 new state. From that day John Dement directed his best energies to 
 building up the commonwealth, and our territorial and state laws to-day 
 bear the impress of his sound sense and good judgement. In early man- 
 hood he was chosen to public office and continued to serve the people in 
 county, city and state through a long life. While acting as state treas- 
 urer he took part in the three campaigns of the Black Hawk war. In 
 the first he acted as aide-de-camp to Gov. Reynolds and was witness to 
 the treaty. The following year, while residing at Vandalia, he again 
 enlisted and was sent by Gen. Whitesides withsix men to visit Shabboua, 
 the Pottawattomie chief, thirty miles north of Dixon, and warn him 
 not to allow Black Hawk to come upon his lands to live. While out on 
 this expedition he learned the location of this chief's land and on the 
 following day reported to the commander at Dixon. He then returned 
 home and for the third time joined the volunteers, was made commander 
 
 — 24G — 
 
of a spy battalion and reported to Col. Zachary Taylor at Dixon. From 
 there he was sent in search of Black Hawk and led the brilliant engage- 
 ment at Kellogg's Grove, where for the first time the troops held their 
 position till reinfon^ements arrived. In the story of Black Hawk's life, 
 as told by himself, he complimented the young white chief in an eloquent 
 manner on his coolness, and courage, and it is a' remarkable fact tliat the 
 histories all coincide in awarding the palm for military tact and daring 
 courage to Col. Dement and Henry Dodge, afterwards his father-in-law. 
 Col. Dement is identilied with the story of the war from beginning to 
 etui and no one had a more intimate acquaintance and friendship with 
 the many distinguished men engaged in it. It is greatly to be regretted 
 that the the events of that time had not been written at his dictation, 
 with all the wealth of personal and local incidents he had at command. 
 With tlie addition of the personal recollections of Mrs. Dement, then 
 Miss Dodge, no history in existence would liave been of more interest or 
 value. Many of the facts I have given you liave been verified by a letter 
 from Geo. W. Jones. 
 
 Reserved in the war as adjutant to Gen. Dodge and was afterwards 
 United States Senator from Iowa, where he now resides. Although 
 nearly ninety years old he narrates the scenes of that long ago time with 
 great clearnees and recalls many interesting anecdotes of pioneer life 
 and distinguished men. Very touching and very beautiful are the mem- 
 ories of his dear old friends, Col. Dement and the Dodge family, which 
 this old man so lovingly lingers over as a precious part of his own young 
 manliood. After the war Col. Dement was again called to fill oflices of 
 honor and trust and at length removed with the land otiice from Galena 
 to Dixon, There he passed the happiest years of his life rejoicing in the 
 rising fortunes of the city, part of which bears his name. These scenes 
 had woven a spell about his heart which no separation could break and 
 coming age but added strength to the enchantment which was a "twi- 
 light of the brightness passed away." 
 
 In these times of danger and hardship women too had a place. Mrs. 
 Dixon was the Urst white woman who settled in Lee county and she was 
 well equii)ped for ihe allotted place in life. She was remarkably intelli- 
 gent, warm-hearted and ready for any good work. Under her roof all 
 were welcome and she had the tact and insight to keep the peace and 
 friendship of all, red and white, who gathered there. The winter pre- 
 ceding the war Black Hawk and a number of chiefs held a council at 
 Dixon's Ferry. These chiefs were invited to sit down to her table three 
 
 — 247 — 
 
times a day, where she presided ^'acefully, eating and drinking with 
 them. Black Ilawk, as spokesman for the rest, thanked her for her great 
 kindness and ever afterwards remembered it. The nearest neighbors 
 were Mr. Kelioggs, who had settled at Kellogg's Grove in 1828, and some 
 families who had located at Buffalo Grove, now Polo, the same year, la 
 1831 the Kelioggs moved to Buffalo Grove and the Reeds arrived the same 
 day. Annie Kellogg, now Mrs. E. B. Baker of Dixon, and Fanny Reed, 
 now Mrs. Fanny Dixon, are the only persons in Lee county who were 
 here during the war and no history has the reality which attaches to the 
 story from their lips. In 18.31 the settlers, fearing an outbreak, joined 
 others at Apple River and commenced to build a fort, when a dispatch 
 was received informing them that a treaty had been made and they 
 might return. In 1832 a messenger arrived at Buffalo Grove with the 
 news of Stillraan's defeat and advised them to go immediately to Dixon. 
 Mrs. Baker remembers that morning distinctly. Her father had gone to 
 Galena for supplies and her mother was alone with a hired man and her 
 two little children. Leaving the breakfast table her mother and the 
 man mounted their horses, each taking a child. Little Annie rode on a 
 pillow, the only article they brought away with them. Arriving at 
 Dixon, Mrs. Dixon gave them a generous welcome. Mrs. Baker remem- 
 bers the Indians, of whom she had no fear. She has often seen Black 
 Hawk and describes him as a large, hard-faced Indian not at all noted 
 for beauty. She went freely to their wigwams and was taught their 
 dances by the chiefs. After their departure the Indians rifled the house 
 of everything save the feathers, which they turned out of the ticks on 
 the floor. Mrs. Baker's greatest trial was the loss of a certain little 
 wooden dog, very dear to her childish heart, which she had forgotten in 
 her flight. After spending two weeks with the Dixon family they were 
 all sent to Galena with an escort of soldiers and did not return to their 
 homes until late autumn. On the road they passed their old home and 
 found every tree and shrub loaded with a strange fruit — feathers. A 
 number of Indians had improvised a thicket by cutting down small trees 
 and sticking them in the ground, and were hidden behind them. They 
 were so near the road that they easily recognized the party. These 
 women and children had always been honest, truthful and kind in all 
 their dealings with the savages, and to this they owed their escape from 
 a cruel death. Can we realize in any degree the heroism lived every day 
 of these brave lives? In 1833 they were again compelled to leave their 
 homes t)y rumors of war, but returned before harvest and were never dis- 
 turbed afterwards. Mrs. Jiaker remembers Dixon when it consisted of 
 
 — 248 — 
 
i^ather l)ixon's log house, located on the site of iVenzel's meat market, 
 and the block houses on the north side. The army was encamped on the 
 flat north of Main street and west of Galena street. . 
 
 Perhaps no group of tents ever sheltered so many men who afterwards 
 became famous in our own country and the whole world. There was 
 Sindney Breese, who came to Illinois in 1818, and for sixty years was a 
 strong factor in professional, political and judicial life. In 1831 he pub- 
 lished a law report, which was the first book printed in the state, person- 
 ally assisting in the work. In 1832 he volunteered as a private in the 
 Black Hawk war, where he rose to an office outranking Taylor and An- 
 derson. To him belongs the honor of projecting the Illinois Central 
 Railroad, and he desired no other inscription on the marble above him. 
 In 1840 he had the greater honor of making the first congressional effort 
 to build the great Pacific railway. He confronted opposition in congress 
 and out, in regard to the new route for the commerce and wealth of the 
 east to enter the western world. The monument commemorates these 
 services, and the grand old man went proudly to his grave with the 
 consciousness that what he had done would live after him as the heritage 
 of a great man to his country. 
 
 The name of Robert Anderson will ever be associated with the fall of 
 Fort Sumter, the central act of the war, and the most important from a 
 military standpoint. The story of the insult to the nation's flag, and his 
 gallant defense, as it flashed over the Nurth was the signal for a resur- 
 rection of patriotism which swept away all party lines and united the 
 people in one common love of country. Yet the man so strong and brave 
 in the war lifted a little wounded Indian child from beside its dead 
 mother, had its arm amputated, and tenderly cared lor its wants. He 
 lived to unfurl the old flag again over the fort, and over an undivided 
 nation. Perhaps he learned lessons of bravery while marching through 
 this valley under command of Col. Tayhu", of whctm it was said, "he never 
 surrendered," and who was afterwards President of the United States. 
 Though he was a slaveholder he was wise, sincere and honest, and bitterly 
 opposed to the extension of slavery. He was not a statesman by genius 
 or habit, but he was a personal example of a patriot striving, in liis own 
 last words, "to do my duty." This sentiment he strongly emphasized in 
 his speech to the volunteers at Dixon's Ferry, where he said: "You are 
 citizen soldiers, and some of you may (ill high offices, or even be President 
 some day, but never unless you do your duty. Forward! March!" Did 
 some shadowy finger of prophecy open to him the doors of futurity? Did 
 
 — 249 — 
 
he see himself, Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis filling these places? 
 May we not believe that the sound of tlie. war cry and the sight of tha 
 scalping knife cast a witchery over the soul of the young Lieut. Davis, 
 never to be brol<en till in madness he lifted his hand against the Union, 
 and proclaimed liis loyalty to the State and to the slave power. How 
 infamous that descent from conspiracy to treason, from treason to rebel- 
 lion, from rebellion to a civil war which rent asunder the most sacred 
 ties of luimanitv, tilled hearts and homes from sea to sea with anguish 
 and tears, and baptised this fair land with the life-blooci of 300,000 of the 
 republic's bravest sons. And yet the sacrifice was not complete until the 
 assassin's hand struck down the idol of a loyal people — Abraham Lincoln. 
 In the rank and tile of the Indian war he walked a simple childlike man, 
 unknown to fortune or fame. Gifted with a rare patience and a wise 
 moderation, born of a native kindliness, he had ever that charm given 
 only to those in whose souls the fountain of tears and the fountain of 
 laughter lie close together, and their mingling waters bear men along on 
 a resistless current of svmpathv. Even then hung over him that strange 
 sadness which cast a shadow over his life, "My destiny is upon me." He 
 had that which endures in human character— the power of growth, the 
 upward movement, the aspiration for better things, which thirty years 
 later sent him forth to be tiie ruler of the greatest nation on earth — the 
 leader of its embattled hosts in a conflict between Nortli and South, 
 between firearms and genius, and between the great principles of Free- 
 dom and Slavery. By the singular power of his personality he achieved 
 a victory which won for him the reverence of a nation, and the worship 
 of an emancipated race. How passing strange that with the eyes of the 
 world upon him in those dark days, the memories of his early life in Lee 
 county and Dixon should find a phute. After the fall of Fort Sumter, 
 in conversation with Robert Anderson he reminded him of those meet- 
 ings which he had forgotten, saying, "You mustered me into the United 
 States service during the Black Hawk war as a high private of the Illi- 
 nois volunteers at Dixon's Ferry." 
 
 Though never again permitted to visit these early scenes, the ideal of 
 his life has become the ideal of many lives, adding to the moral and 
 spiritual capital of the world, and sounding ilie key note of a strain 
 which abides forever. 
 
 One by one they have vanished fi'om our sight till only two remain 
 who lived through tlie scenes of the Black Hawk war. Could they but 
 tell their story here to-day your hearts would be filled with admiration 
 and regret that we who reap the fruit of their toil have failed to preserve 
 
 — 250 — 
 
these precious bits of tradition and history now buried with tbe dead. 
 The American nation, though young in years, has, by means of its vast 
 accumulations of wealth, been stamped throughout the civilized world 
 with materialism. And as this wealth flows in perennial streams among 
 the people is there not danger that we may fulfill the prophecies of for- 
 eign nations by allowing this characteristic to stamp itself too deeply, 
 not only upon our lives, but upon our exhibits at the World's Fair. On 
 the women of America rests the burden of modifying this tendency by 
 awakening and cultivating an interest in all educational matters. 
 
 No subject is attracting more attention from women's clubs in con- 
 nection with the World's Fair than the history of our own country. It 
 has become a duty as well as a pleasure to collect and preserve all that 
 relics, record or tradition can add to the unwritten pages. Whether it 
 Is possible or practical with our facts to make such an exhibit remains 
 to be decided upon. To what bright sister shall belong the honor of 
 devising some plan of action by which we may be represented in the his- 
 torical exhibit of the state if nothing more. Why should not Lee county 
 be made a point of historical interest, for time and history do at last 
 come to hallow and make remarkable all places connected with great 
 men and great enterprises. What a picture for the artist's brush! A 
 solitary cabin standing by the Indian's "Sinnissippi," amid the vast sol- 
 itudes of a prairie desert, and in its open door Nachusa, the herald of 
 peace and goodwill, receiving on the one hand a deputation of the native 
 sons of the soil bearing in their hands their rude offerings; on the other 
 a group of men whose names and deeds adorn history's page, and speak 
 to listening multitudes through song and story, through marble and 
 canvas, and floating over all the banner of our own proud state with the 
 simple legend, "Illini" the land of men. 
 
ReiT2QiT2i «>ee:r2ee^ 
 
 OF NORTIIWJSSTERX ILLINOIS. 
 
 T 
 
 HE writer of the following reminiscences came from eastern New 
 York to Illinois in the early spring of 1846. The land he left was 
 highly picturesque, being characterized by high hills with deep 
 valleys between. It was a rocky region, and the cultivated fields being 
 largely reclaimed from the prevailing forests, bore striking evidence 
 of their original estate by the numerous stumps remaining, which 
 awaited the action of time to crumble into dust: The land to which he 
 came, however, was a signal contrast to this. Forests there were none 
 worthy the name. Narrow skirts of timber fringed the sluggish streams, 
 while all the land between these waier-courses lay in a broad and beau- 
 tiful expanse of undulating prairie, siudded with wild Mowers of various 
 hues and forms. The view of this beautiful land was enchanting, and as 
 we traversed it by stage — for at that time there was not a foot of railroad 
 in the state— we thought it the gaiden spot of earth. 
 
 Leaving Chicago— which then was but a respectable village, clustered 
 on the shore of the lake about the mouth of the insignittcant bayou 
 called the "river" — we were not long in reaching the first stage station. 
 Here fresh horses were secured and with successive relaysof animals, and 
 under the direction of skillful ".Jehu"' drivers, we swei)t over the beauti- 
 ful emerald ocean until we reached vvliat was then known as the "Rock 
 River country." Enchanting as had been the scenery all the way, it 
 seemed to us ihat nothing cduld excel the beauty of the region around 
 what was then known as "Dixon's Ferry." For miles l)efore we reached 
 the little cluster of houses so named, the landscape seemed to acquire 
 new attractions at every step, until, ascending the eminence to the east 
 of the valley, we attained a view of the valley and the crystal stream 
 rolling through it, our involuntary exclamation was, "surely nothing can 
 excel this." The judgment then formed has not been reversed, though 
 nearly half a century has since passed away. 
 
 — 255 — 
 
Our destination being Galena, tlie center of the mining section of the 
 state, we were not many hours in reaching that city, which we found to 
 be at that early day a far more attractive and more wealthy place than 
 Chicago. The principal industries were mining lead ore, smelting it and 
 shipping the lead. As the chief market for this metal was England, the 
 circulating medium in and around Galena was largely gold of the denom- 
 ination of sovereigns. These having in the mines a local value exceeding 
 l)V some four or five cents each what they would bring elsewhere, were 
 kept very largely in that portion of the State. Little paper money was 
 in circulation, and what there was seemed to be looked upon with suspi- 
 cion, as indeed it might well be, for the banks were then mostly of a 
 private, and very largely of an irresponsible character. Silver for small 
 change was quite plentiful, though it was hard for eastern ears to recog- 
 nize it under the new names it bore. The "levy," "flp," and "bit," were 
 the names of honest silver coin, and uanfts brought In by the emigrants 
 from the south who found their way to the mines in search of remuner- 
 ative employment. These same persons, from the southern portion of 
 the state, and largely of the least thrifty class, gave, it was said, the 
 soubriquet, "Suckers," to Illinoisans. 
 
 The calling of the writer of these reminiscences, that of minister of 
 the gospel, and a home missionary, led him to make frequent excursions 
 into the region round about Galena, extending as far south upon the 
 Mississippi River as Rock Island and Keokuk, and as far east and south- 
 east as Rockford and Dixon. It was a peculiarly wild, and in an early 
 day, lawless region. 
 
 Notwithstanding the fact that all through the mining region, and 
 down the Mississippi river and up through the Rock River valley, and 
 east and south to the Illinois River much lawlessness prevailed, I have 
 to record with pleasure that I was never molested nor insulted— on the 
 other hand, my profession being known, I was invariably treated with 
 respect and courtesy. In that early day transportation was granted me 
 without charge on the steamboats, and entertainment was free to me as 
 a clergyman, both in hotels and private residences. Often when I have 
 offered pay it has been kindly but firmly refused; and this courteous 
 treatment was not confined to the christian or even the moral portion of 
 the various communities visited. On a certain occasion, when on a mis- 
 sionary tour, I saw a number of men gathered around a log cabin by the 
 roadside in a very lonely forest. I halted my horse and spoke to them. 
 I told them that I was a minister of the gospel and asked the privilege 
 of addressing them upon the subject of religion. They readily assented 
 
 — 256 — 
 
and politely asked me to alight. One man took my horse, another 
 opened the door and led the way into the cabin. 1 then discovered that 
 it was a rough backwoods drinking saloon. The only table in the room 
 was covered with bottles filled .with liquor. These were quickly removed 
 and placed on the wide win'dow-sill, and th'^ table became my pulpit. 
 Dispensing with singing I opened my Bible and preached to an attentive 
 audience "of righteousness, temperance and judgment to come." What 
 the result was I don't know; I only know that rough men were willing to 
 listen as the gospel was proclaimed, and treated the bearer of the divine 
 message with courtesy and kindness. 
 
 The last remnant of the aborigines had been removed from Illinois 
 before my arrival in the state, though n)any who had participated in thp 
 conflict which preceded and accompanied the last serious outbreak, 
 known as the "Black Hawk War," still lived, and had many tales to tell 
 of the struggle between the early settlers and the red men. A block 
 house for the protection of the inhabitants living between Galena and 
 Dixon had been built on Apple River, near the little mining town of 
 Elizabeth, some fifteen or sixteen miles south of Galena. The families 
 residing in this region extending as far west as the Mississippi river, and 
 as far east as Freeport and south to Dixon, had been notified probably by 
 Shabbona, an Indian always friendly to the whites, of an intended out- 
 break of the savages, and many of them had repaired to the block-house 
 near Elizabeth, resolved to defend themselves against the foe. They 
 had not long to wait. A marauding band of Indians surrounded the lit- 
 tle fort, and, protected by the trees and dense shrubbery, lay in wait to 
 pick off any who might be exposed to the deadly aim of their rifles. In 
 the meantime those in the block-house were prepared for defense. A 
 platform had been built some five or six feet above the floor, and upon 
 this the men were ranged ready to Are from the port-holes left between 
 the logs. The women in the meantime, under the leadership of "Aunt 
 Betty Armstrong," as she was familiarly called, a strong minded and 
 courageous womap, moulded bullets and loaded the muskets of their hus- 
 bands and brothers, determined to do their part in defending themselves 
 and their families from the savages. The siege continued for many 
 hours. In the course of the battle — as Mrs. Armstrong herself informed 
 me— an Indian bullet pierced the neck of one of the men upon the plat- 
 form and he fell among the women below. "As he lay there," to employ 
 Mrs. Armstrong's own words, "You never saw a hog bleed prettier," Mr. 
 Harsha, "than he did." His jugular vein was cut as neatly as a knife could 
 have done it, and in a few minutes the man was dead. One of the other 
 
 — 257 — 
 
men on the platform was so frightened at this that he dropped his gun, 
 and was about to abandon his post. Seeing this, added Aunt Betty, 
 "I pointed a gun at him which I had just loaded, and told him that if he 
 did not stand his ground there would be another white man lying dead 
 in less than a minute. This settled it, and no one else played the coward 
 during theflght." Finding that they could not take the little fort, the 
 Indians raised the seige and quietly left, bearing their dead and wounded 
 with them. 
 
 Another battle took place with the Indians about this time, not far 
 from Elkhorn Grove, which was more disastrous to the whites than the 
 one at the block-house on the Apple River. The whites, in attacking the 
 Indians who were hidden in a thicket, became exposed upon the open 
 prairie, and were repulsed with the loss of several of their number in 
 killed and wounded. An Indian pony from which one of these was shot 
 was kept until his death at a great age, by Col. Mitcht-ll, at Elizabeth. 
 The man who was shot from the pony was Col. Mitchell's son-in-law, but 
 his name has escaped me. These skirmishes were preliminary to the 
 Black Hawk war. Into the details of the Black Hawk war this narrative 
 need not enter, as the incidents of that event, which ended for the State 
 of Illinois the drama of Indian conflicts, have passed into general his- 
 tory. The following, however, in connection with the now thriving city 
 of Dixon, communicated to me by Mr. Dixon himself, the founder of the 
 town, may be of interest. When the Black Hawk war broke out. General 
 Scott, who had charge of the Northwestern Military Department, and 
 was at Fort Snelling, Minnesota, ordered the militia, which had been 
 called out for the defense of the citizens, to rendezvous at Dixon. To 
 muster these volunteers into the United States service. General Scott 
 sent two young Lieutenants from Fort Snelling to Dixon, while he him- 
 self with the regular troops intended to descend the Mississippi River, 
 and attack the Indians in their principal village near the junction of 
 Rock River with the Mississippi. Mr. Dixon kept the only tavern then 
 in Dixon, being a double log cabin, and entertained the militia officers, 
 as well as the two lieutenants sent to muster them into service. One of 
 these young officers sent from Fort Snelling — as Mr. Dixon afterward told 
 me, was a bright, sprightly young man, very talkative, and exceedingly 
 inquisitive as to the habits of the Indians, while the other seemed very 
 quiet, retiring and modest. The young men were about twenty-two or 
 twenty-three years of age. They administered the oath to the volunteers, 
 among whom was a captain about their own age who was dressed in Ken- 
 tucky jeans, hailing from Sangainoti county, Illinois, and then went on 
 
 — 258^— 
 
to join General Scott at Rock Island. 
 
 Years rolled away and the great rebellion was inaugurated, when the 
 the three young men meeting thus in Dixon during the Black Hawk war, 
 filled the most prominent positions in the land. The Sangamon county 
 captain was Al)raham Lincoln, president of the United States; the 
 sprightly young lieutenant was Jefferson Davis, president of the South- 
 ern Confederacy, and the modest, retiring young lieutenant, as Captain 
 Anderson, was the first to defend the flag at Fort Sumpter, in Charleston 
 harbor. 
 
 Being in New York City shortly after the evacuation of Fort Sumter, 
 I related, one evening at the supper table of Mr. Black, of the firm of 
 Ball, Black & Co., the then noted jewelers, the above facts as they had 
 been told me by Mr. Dixon. William Black, a son of Mr. Black, remarked, 
 on hearing me, that Captain, now General Anderson, was living in the 
 city, and if I wished he would take me to sec him, as he was acquainted 
 with the general, and we could ascertain whether he would confirm Mr. 
 Dixon's statement. Gladly assenting to Mr. Black's proposal I fixed upon 
 the next evening to make a call. 
 
 During the afternoon of the next day I was in the book store of Rob- 
 ert Carter & Bros., 530 Broadway, and related to Robert Carter the facts 
 as above given, touching Lincoln, Davis and Anderson, and told him that 
 I expected to call on General Anderson that evening for a confirmation 
 of Mr. Dixon's statement. Just as I had finished my remarks to Mr. 
 Carter, a gentleman, who had been standing with his back to us looking 
 over the books upon the shelves, turned suddenly, and stepping up to us, 
 said: "That is so, sir, for I was there myself" Upon this, Mr, Carter 
 introduced me to the gentleman, saying, "Rev. Dr. Gallagher, Mr. Harsha.' 
 Dr. Gallagher then proceeded. "Yes," he said, "I was chaplain at F'ort 
 Snelling at the time, and was sent by General Scott with Davis and 
 Anderson to Dixon, and when they had mustered the troops there into 
 the service of the United States, we went on to meet General Scott at 
 Rock Island, and I well remember the ditliculties we encountered in find- 
 ing our way across the then trackless prairies." Dr. Gallagher was <» 
 Presbyterian clergyman, and at the time of this interview, was the Hnan 
 cial agent of the Union Theological Seminary in New York City. The 
 testimony was no less unexpected than gratifying. 
 
 According to the appointment T went that evening and called upon 
 General Anderson. When 1 told him the object of my visit, and had 
 asked him for his recollection of what had occurred at Dixon, he fully 
 conflrmed Mr. Dixon's statement, and added: "After the fall of Fort 
 
 — 259 — 
 
Surapter, my nervous system was completely broken down, and Mr. 
 Lincoln invited me to visit him in Wasiiington. 1 had not met him after 
 our meeting at Dixon, until my visit to him at the White House. There 
 Mr. Lincoln roiniiuicd nio of the Rlack Hawk days, and said to me, in his 
 kindly, familiar manner: "Anderson, you and Davis administered to me 
 at Dixon the first oath I ever took to defend the Constitution of the 
 United States." General Anderson inquired whether Mr. Dixon were 
 still alive, and when answered in the affirmative, said: "Please remem- 
 ber me to him, and say, if we never meet on earth, I hope to meet him in 
 heaven." 
 
 But the flight of time has brought to all our land marvelous changes. 
 The beautiful prairies of those early days, have been turned under by the 
 thrifty settler's plow, and where the wild rose, the aster, the golden rod, 
 the buttercup and the daisy once nodded in the breeze, the corn raises 
 its stately head, and the waving wheat fields bespeak thecoming harvest. 
 Neither forts nor block-houses dot the landscape to tell of defense from 
 the Indian ritle and scalping knife. Thirfty towns, and villages, and 
 cities; stately homes proclaiming wealth and luxury, have taken the 
 place of the squatter's humble cabin. The hardy pioneers, who "bore 
 the burden and heat" of those early days, are passed away, and their 
 children and children's children enjoy the fruits of their thoughtful toil. 
 The great rebel li<ui has come and gone. Lincoln and Davis, and Ander- 
 son, nearly all who bore a part in Lhab great struggle, have passed into 
 the eternal world. The few survivors of those pioneer days, white haired 
 and feeble now, await the summons which shall call them into the land 
 immortal. W. W. Harsha. 
 

 ■f 
 
 ^^' 
 
 „ nMl^l* . 
 
Dix0T2'^ t^T^St TerT^percvT^ee Pfe3qe 
 
 The sun that shines so brightly tlown 
 
 This day. upon our ploasant town. 
 
 Some sixty years <igo had seen 
 
 The first white settler on our green; 
 
 "Nachusa," as the Indians said, 
 
 Or, "man with white hair on his head." 
 
 Then stood upon our river's banks, 
 
 First pioneer among the ranks 
 
 Of those who to Kock Valley came, 
 
 To make themselves a Western name. 
 
 Rock lliver courses in beauty there 
 Around its lovely Islands rare. 
 Although no bridge its breadth did span; 
 The daily sun in splendor died. 
 To rise again in all its pride. 
 But only shone on prairie land 
 Untilled by any white man's hand; 
 The Winnebago Indians stood 
 Possessed of Dixon's plains and woods, 
 Although this country had been sold 
 'J'o Government for trade and gold. 
 
 Thus, scarcely had the white man eonie. 
 
 To find a cabin roof his home, 
 
 When an old Chief and part his band. 
 
 Around Nachusa's hearth did stand. 
 
 And queried, in the red man's way. 
 
 If he "had come to go or stay "?" 
 
 Owanica. his Indian name; 
 
 Old Jarro. to our men. the same; 
 
 He, the Pottawatomie languagi? knew. 
 
 And, as Nachusa spoke it too. 
 
 They talked, and Jarro's men stood still. 
 
 While he interpreted at will; 
 
 And for their questioning glances, sought 
 
 The whiskey which the white man brought. 
 
 — 263 — 
 
Nachusa sternly shook his head, 
 "No whiskey had he brought," he said; 
 "And would not buy or keep it there?" 
 Old Jarre asked, wtiile scowled his men, 
 "If he would get some they'd be glad, 
 It not— 'twas bad— 'ta^as vet-y had." 
 
 Nachusa saw— and quickly then. 
 
 He took to Jarro and his men 
 
 Both Hour and corn, and many things 
 
 Which only white to red man brings; 
 
 And as the lowering brows gave way. 
 
 He bade them call another day; 
 
 And this on every day was done, 
 
 Until old Jarro called alone; 
 
 With such good food, his appetite 
 
 Was scarce appeased from morn 'till night; 
 
 And always did the white man tell 
 
 Of whiskey, and its curse as well, 
 
 Persuading him each day and hour. 
 
 To free him from its evil power; 
 
 And so the Chief proclaimed that he 
 
 Was temperate, in Thirty-Three— 
 
 Declaring-that himself and men, 
 
 'I 
 Should net er be found drunk again; 
 
 And this a "Temperance Pledge" became. 
 
 Before this town was built or named. 
 
 Some time had passed when Jarro went 
 To make a grieved and sad lament; 
 "Two warriors at Galena bought 
 The whiskey which the Indians sought. 
 And on the island near the dam, 
 Were many drinking, and he ran 
 To tell their names— Nachusa must 
 Treat them with scorn and so be just." 
 
 Two days' and nights' carousal high. 
 
 And then the leading man drew nigh. 
 
 Holding his hand in friendly token. 
 
 As though no temperance pledge was broken. 
 
 Amazement in his face to trace 
 
 The anger in Nachusa's face. 
 
 As, with arms crossed upon his breast, 
 
 Nachusa stood in quiet rest. 
 
 Or backward drew, as the red man 
 
 His questioning dialogue began. 
 
 — Ziii — 
 
"Why was he angry V it was not he 
 Who any wrong had done— nor he"— J 
 "Stop" said Nachusa, do not Ue, 
 I Jcnow the reasons all, and why"; 
 And beckoning him away, told cause 
 Of all his anger— bade him pause, 
 "He would not see nor speak to him 
 Without severest reckoning; 
 For he was mad— was very mad— 
 If red man drank would not be glad." 
 
 The warrior stopped and looking sad 
 Inquired "how long he would be mad?" 
 "Until next moon? that was too long;" 
 But fixedly was the white man strong. 
 And sternly bade him give it up. 
 The fatal, poisonous, whiskey cup, 
 "Or cling to drink and never more 
 Seek out his face or pass his door." 
 Bock Biver's waters, coldly blue.i 
 Beheld the stormy interview. 
 
 Eleven days after, in the light 
 That shuts out day and takes in night. 
 Just as the full moon's silvery sheen 
 Was trailing o'er the prairies green. 
 The Indian in the gloaming stood, 
 With hands held out in gracious mood; 
 Nachusa to the erring ran— 
 Made happy signs of friendly man, 
 And thus the second pledge was made. 
 Which lasted while old Jarro stayed. 
 
 Nachusa told inquirers then. 
 He lived before the "Old Wolf's Den," 
 Across the waters dark and blue. 
 For thus they all the country knew; 
 The Old Wolf's Den, on North Side bluff. 
 Where, though the climbing may be rough. 
 The earUest and sweetest flowers grow. 
 From which our stranger friends are shownl 
 The town and finest elm tree known. 
 
 Nachusa smoked the pipe of peace 
 Though not from Indian theft released; 
 Bo, with the tribe, when payment came 
 For these same lands, he went to claim 
 The specie for a missing cow— 
 
 — 265 — 
 
And horse that wandered (none knew liow) 
 To Winnebago Fort, where Captain Lowe 
 Witli kindly inauiries pressed him so. 
 Nachusa told of Jarro's weal. 
 And of his temperance work and zeal. 
 
 The Captain laughed, sarcastic peals 
 Which tells the hearer what one feels; 
 Recalling all the friendly aid 
 To ragged, drinking Jarro made. 
 Declared that "he knew Indians well. 
 And so could for a surety tell. 
 That Jarro, if a chance he got. 
 Would prove the most degraded sot;" 
 
 And turning tothe sutler's store; 
 Beckoned the chief within tlie door. 
 And in a pleasant, friendly way 
 Asked him some uuestions as he stayed; 
 The while he filled a large tin cup. 
 And said the Chief should take a sup. 
 
 Old Jarro thanked him kindly then. 
 But said he "feared the great white man. 
 And so would take the whiskey out 
 And watch his chance, for thereabouts, 
 (The Captain he would understand) 
 Nachusa stood with threatening hand." 
 
 The Captain for the Fort had left. 
 When Jarro to Nachusa crept, 
 And telling all the doubtful story. 
 With Indian haughtiness and glory. 
 Led him some distance in the wood. 
 When the tin cup as well filled stood 
 As he could bear it in his laand. 
 The proudest chief in all the land. 
 To prove the tempter was mistaken; 
 The chieftan's pledge was not forsaken. 
 
 Old Jarro raised himself upright 
 And poised the cup in Dixon's sight. 
 Then turning on, his heel, half 'round. 
 He poured the contents on the ground, 
 And with the noble thought and deed. 
 The red man of the forest said, 
 "Owanica had promised well! 
 And you, Nachusa, now can tell 
 That not a drop of cursed fire 
 Has passed his lips— /te was no liar." 
 
 — 26(j — 
 
For Winnebago lives in name; 
 The Winnebagoes— who can tell 
 If any feel the temperance spell? 
 Kock River, bridged by many a span. 
 And subject to the works of man, 
 Still sees Nachusa's snow white head. 
 And flows beneath his measured tread. 
 And hears, with many an old time tale. 
 Of the Temperance Pledge that did not fail. 
 H. E. Underwood. 
 
 NOTES FROM MR. DIXON. 
 
 The full moon was the Indians time of reckoning. When the Central 
 railroad was built in Dixon they cut away the old wolf's den for the north 
 end of the railroad bridge. It used to be a large cave, and beyond the 
 portion you could enter, a narrow passage led to the den — the resort for 
 many wolves. Winnebago Fort was on the peninsula between the Fox 
 and Wisconsin rivers and about a mile from either. 
 
''IAgXMgt' Dixon. 
 
 ONE OF the most remarkable of the many noble women among the 
 early settlers who made their homes in the Rock River valley was 
 Mrs. Rebecca I)ix(in. 
 
 Horn at Peek^kill, New York, and reared near New York City, of re- 
 fined and cultured parentage, with a broad mind, well educated, she with 
 her husband, early became possessed of a desire to go west and cast in 
 their lot with the pioneers of a new and almost unknown country. They 
 came tlrst to Sangamon county, near Springfield, but afferwarcis moved 
 to l^eoria, Illinois, lie having l)een ai)poiiited Clerk of the Circuit Court 
 of Peoria county, and after remaining for four years, Mr. Dixon having 
 contracted for carrying the mail from Peoria to Galena, and being obliged 
 to cross Rock River, became enamoured of the Rock River country, and 
 soon purchased the ferry across Rock River at what is now Dixon. Here 
 Mr. and Mrs. Dixon moved, and he established his claims to the territory 
 covered by Dixon and its surroundings Here Mr. Dixon might be said 
 to l)e "moiuirch of all he surveyed." His was the only white family on 
 Rock River, and Mrs. Dixon the only white woman between Peoria and 
 Galena, and her only neighbors were the red men of the forest. 
 
 iiy her kind, gentle, yet firm and christian deportmentshe soon gained 
 the conHd^^nce and esteem of her neighl)ors and ever retained it. The 
 door of her log cabin was never barred, and the latch string was never 
 drawn in 7rJy/i(or fZa;/. "The latchstring was always out." "Nachusa,'' 
 ((/ie«/«7e/i,ai?'<?d) as the Indians called Mr. Dixon, was always the recog- 
 nized friend of the red uian, and they consulted him in all their difficul- 
 ties; and when any of them incurred his displeasure the culprit came to 
 Mrs. Dixon at the first opportunity, saying, "Nachusa mad, me 'fraid 
 Nachusa," and begged her to iuLercede for him and persuade Nachusa to 
 turn away his anger. The Indians had a wholesome fear of Nachusa, 
 and dreaded his anger. Old Shabbona, chief of the Winnebago tribe, 
 was, for years after the Indians left this region, an annual visitor at Mr. 
 Dixon's, where he spent days in smoking and chatting with "Nachusa." 
 
 — 2(58 — 
 
The Indians respected and revered Mrs. Dixon, and were alwaj's ready 
 to do her bidding', and were completely under her control. 
 
 Here Mr. and Mrs. Dixon endured patiently and cheerfully all t'l'- 
 privations and inconviences incident to a new country, among which the 
 loss of intelligent and refined society, the complete isolation, the lack of 
 the comforts and luxuries of a well appointed home were not the least. 
 Yet she never laid aside her dignity, her queenliness of deportment, her 
 refinement, her self-respect, her 2:>e)/ecf womanliness. No man, however 
 low his instinct, could be in her presence a moment without feeling 
 awed and subdued by her queenly dignity and inrfcctly ladylike presence. 
 Though a frail, slight woman, probably never weighing more than ninety 
 pounds, and never in robust health, she neither feared or failed to adhere 
 to her strict temperence principles in the presence of the roughest 
 traveler who asked shelter in her home. If he attempted to bring liquor 
 into the house, she took it from him, saying simply: "This is forbid \^ n 
 here, "or, "We cannot have this," and poured it on the ground. 
 
 Dr. Oliver Everett, who was always their family physician, has many 
 times said in the hearing of the writer, ''She was a wonderful woman 
 and 1 count it one of the greatest blessings and privileges of my life that 
 I was permitted to enjoy the society and friendship of Mrs. Dixon. Rev. 
 Thomas Powell, who was a member of the Sunday school in New York 
 City, of which Mr. Dixon was superintendent before coming to Illinois, 
 expressed himself in like manner, and said she was a wonderful woman, 
 and that he counted it a great privilege to have been permitted to sit at 
 her feet and be a learner. Rev. Mr. Powell was for many years a mis- 
 sionary of the American Baptist Missionary Union and has many times 
 preached in Dixon. Mrs. Dixon was at home in the governor's mansion, 
 and also in the homes of the poor. Mr. Dixon being on the Board of 
 Public Works, was frequently called to the capital of our state on busi- 
 ness and was accompanied at times by Mrs. Dixon. She was always re- 
 ceived by the officials with due respect and with the unaffected greeting 
 due to a heartily welcomed and highly esteemed guest. 
 
 Everyone honored and respected her, and when the community was' 
 solicited by her for aid in the care of the sick or for the relief of the poor 
 and destitute, everyone was ready to respond cheerfully to her request. 
 
 She was an exceedingly interesting conversationalist a keen observer, 
 and intelligent upon almost any subject, and very kind and sociable with 
 the children and youth, for whom she always had a word of encoura_e- 
 ment. 
 
 But the crowning glory of Mrs. Dixon's character loas Jier deev, fervent, 
 
 — 269 — 
 
unaffected piety. No one could speak disrespectfully of Our Savior or His 
 cause in her presence. 
 
 "Wiiose I am and whom I serve," was what she had to say of Christ; 
 and she lived it out. Her influence was most salutary. In her own home 
 she conducted family worship, Mrs. Dixon being a silent worshipper. 
 
 It is a remarkable fact that during the time they resided on the farm 
 west of Dixon, now owned by the Dr. Everett estate, every farm hand 
 who resided with them was converted and gave himself to the Saviour. 
 
 Mrs. Dixon was the mother of twelve children, all of whom, except 
 three, she outlived. One by one they were taken from her to the Father's 
 home on high. Yet she never lost her faith, nor murmered or complain- 
 ed. By God's grace she was able to say, "the Lord gave and the Lord has 
 taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." 
 
 Sickness and her great aflfiictions so undermined her health that she 
 was obliged to retire from active service and "be laid aside." On the 
 ninth day of February, 1847. she died at the age of flfty-eight years, in 
 the full triumphs of faith, and in the hope of blessed resurrection. 
 
 Dixon has been blessed in the lives of many othernoble women, among 
 whom were Mrs. John Richards, Mrs. Keizia Law, Mrs. Thummell, 
 Mrs. Dr. Gardner, Mrs. Erastus DeWolf, Mrs. Harvey Morgan and many 
 others, of whom their pastors could well say, "those women who labored 
 with me in the gospel," as Paul said of the Phillipian women. All these 
 died in the faith and left behind them precious memories. Would that 
 some abler pen than mine might write fitting sketches of their lives. 
 
 I have written what I have, that the memory of the virtues which 
 shone more conspicuously in the life of Mrs. Dixon might not be over- 
 shadowed and lost sight of in this fast age in which we are living. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. J. T. Little. 
 
Tfee Fi0T2eer WomeLri of Dixot2. 
 
 THE following' brief notes concerning some of the pioneer women of 
 Dixon who came here prior to 1840 (with incidental mention of some 
 of the pioneer men not elsewhere noticed in this volume) are not 
 in the nature of personal recollections of the writer. But as one of the 
 youngest of the second generation of the very early settlers in this com- 
 munity, she has enjoyed the advantage of the family narratives of those 
 far-tied days. In addition to this, the notes here presented are largely 
 the reported recollections of the oldest settler of Dixon now residing in 
 this city, whose memory reproduces with singular fidelity many scenes 
 from that pioneer life since tirst, in 1830, as a girl of 13, she saw the 
 waters of the beautiful Koclc River, l)y whose side she has now lived for 
 tlfty-seven years. The simple story of her early experiences at Dixon's 
 Ferry will serve as a natural nucleus about which to group the few rem- 
 iniscenses herein narrated. 
 
 Her parents, John and Ann iJichards, were English settlers at To- 
 ronto, Canada. Being possessed of some means, and being further 
 deceived by the alluring reports that reached them of the opportunities 
 and advancement of the great west, they resolved to remove thither. 
 Accordingly Mr. Ilichards and his family voyaged l)y the Great Lakes 
 from Bulfalo to Chicago, and then, after a brief stay at Chicago, which 
 gave no promise of the greatness and magniticence which now make it a 
 fitting place for the display of four centuries of the triumphs of the new 
 world, our travelers set forth for Dixon, their objective point, whose 
 natural beauty was already far famed. Their trip was accomplished in 
 four days and a half, in the customary prairie schooners — the Pullman 
 sleeping cars of those more leisurely days. Upon arriving at Dixon's 
 Ferry Sept. 3, 1836, Mrs. Richards asked why the wagons stopped, and 
 upon being told they were at their destination said, "But Where's the 
 townV" Perhaps the surprise was justified, for there were then, count- 
 ing every sort of structure, but eleven buildings in all. Two of these 
 were general stores, so that, considering all things, the ladies of those 
 
 — 271 — 
 
days could not complain that thoir shopping privileges were abridged, or 
 that there was any monopoly in the sale of "the latest." 
 
 One of these stores, that of Messrs. Hamilton & Covell, was kept in 
 the old log house of Father Dixon, at the corner of First street and 
 Peoria avenue. The rival store stood on the north bank of the river 
 near what is now the end of the railroad bridge, and was conducted by 
 Mr. Geo. A. Martin. 
 
 But, to increase the misery of the situation for Mrs. Richards, her 
 baby, eighteen months old, had been taken ill on the way from Chicago, 
 and just one week after reaching Dixon died. No coflfln could be procured 
 at that early day, and the best that could be done was to get Mr. Tal- 
 mage, a carpenter from Buffalo, to saw boards for one and cover it with 
 cloth. While Mr. Talmage was thus employed Dr. Everett first entered 
 Dixon after his visit to Princeton. The grave of this baby was the third 
 in Oakwood Cemetery. Singularly enough these first three graves were 
 made during the same week. The first person buried in Dixon was a 
 Mr. Lefferty, who had died from an illness consequent upon his swim- 
 ming across Leaf River; the second was a Mr. Manning. 
 
 As soon as possible Mr. Richards built himself a frame house on his 
 farm on the river three miles north of Dixon, and immediately above 
 Hazelwood, which had not as yet been built upon by Gov. Charter. A 
 part of the lumber for Mr. Richard's house was hauled from Freeport. 
 Only the ruined cellar wall now remains to show the location of this early 
 home. Here — in 1837— Gov. Ford spent several days on his way from 
 Vandalia, then capital of the state, being delayed from proceeding by 
 the swollen condition of the Seven Mile Branch. In order to obtain 
 water more conveniently, Mr. Richards soon moved across the river and 
 located on the Grand Detour road, when he became the nearest neighbor 
 of the late Joseph Crawford. 
 
 At the home of Mr. and Mrs. Richards, who were earnest Christians 
 and members of the first Methodist class organized in Dixon (1837), the 
 warmest hospitality was always extended, and many were the Methodist 
 ministers, on their way to the then famous school at Mt. Morris, who 
 shared their entertainment. 
 
 Mr. Richards died June, 1852, leaving his wife and five children sur- 
 viving. At this time his two sons, James and William, were absent in 
 California, and one week before his death his daughter Mary had been 
 married to Thaddeus D. Boardman. His wife, who removed the same 
 year to Dixon and there died in 1877, long before her deatti had been 
 familiarly and lovingly known as "Mother Richards. "j 
 
 — 272 — 
 
During her declining years she was tenderly cared for by her oldest 
 daughter, Sarah, who remained unmarried, and who also devoted herself 
 unselfishly to the care of the motherless children of her two sisters. Miss 
 Richards now resides with the writer, her youngest niece, and, as above 
 stated, is the oldest settler of Dixon now living here. 
 
 Upon Mr. Richard's coming to Dixon, he found but ten families, those 
 of Father Dixon, James Dixon, E. W. Covell, Sam). McCIure, Caleb Tal- 
 mage, Geo. A. Martin, J. W. Hamilton, James B. Barr, E. W. Hines and 
 Alexander Irvine. The latter gentleman had previously been one of Mr. 
 Richards' pastors at Toronto, though he never joined an Illinois Confer- 
 ence. His daughter was engaged to be married to the Mr. Lefferty, 
 whose sad death has been spoken of above as the Qrst at Dixon's Ferry. 
 
 An eloquent tribute to Mother Dixon is elsewhere paid in this volume 
 and but little need be added here. A custom of her's, whose influence 
 upon the frontier life of the little settlement can never be measured. was 
 that of opening her house for preaching services whenever a minister 
 happened to be in the community. That none might miss the then rare 
 privilege of hearing a sermon, she sent her conveyance throughout the 
 settlement and the surrounding country to bring the people to her home 
 then located near the present site of the C. & N. W. depot. This she 
 continued to do until 1837 when a school house was built just west of the 
 cemetery. Worship was then conducted in this school house, which sub- 
 sequently "wandered" down to Ottawa street, and from thence to Main 
 street at about the site of Austin Bros.' store, where it "evolved into a 
 grocery and saloon and was finally burned in 1859. 
 
 Previous to the building of this school house Mother Dixon's house 
 had been used for the first school also, and but for her efforts the school 
 house might never have been built. The men of Dixon had started a 
 subscription to raise money for a school house, but gave up in despair 
 before a sufficient sum had been subscribed. With energy and determi- 
 nation which must have put to shame the easily discouraged men. 
 Mother Dixon toolc up the work and accomplished it. To her belongs the 
 credit of getting built not only this school liouse, but also the first Bap- 
 tist Church in Dixon. To raise the funds to build the church she went 
 with her own horse and buggy from Dixon to Galena, collecting the 
 money along the way. 
 
 Mrs. James P, Dixon was formerly Miss Fannie Reed of Buffalo 
 Grove. She was married to Mother Dixon's oldest son in 1834 and lived 
 on Main street about half a block east of Galena. There— June 30th, 
 1836 — the first white baby in Dixon was born, and little Henrietta Dixon, 
 
 — 273 — 
 
we may be sure, was an object of great interest to the entire community, 
 for all iiastened to pay their respects to the little pioneer. She was mar- 
 ried in 1860 to William H. Richards and now resides at Moline, 111. Her 
 mother, the oldest settler of Dixon now livinjf, spends a portion of her 
 time at Moline, and the remainder in Dixon with her son Hon. Sherwood 
 Dixon, and her daughter, Mrs. Wm. Barge. 
 
 The families of Mr. Covell and Mr. Irvine removed from Dixon as 
 early as 1837. 
 
 In May of 1837 Samuel M. Bowman, a cousin of Senior Bishop Thomas 
 Bowman of the M. E. Church, came from Pennsylvania with his gifted 
 and beautiful young wife. Mr. Bowman and his wife's brother, Isaac S. 
 Board man, who came west with them, opened at the corner of Galena 
 and Water street the first dry goods store in Dixon, which was then the 
 best between Chicago and Galena. Their goods were l)rought from Phil- 
 adelphia and Pittslnirgh by way of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers as 
 far as Fulton or Savanna and from thence by wagon overland, or by flat- 
 boat up the Rock River to Dixon. 
 
 Mrs. Bowman was at this time only nineteen years old. She had been 
 carefully educated at Cazenovia Seminary, New York, and was by nature 
 and training well fitted for the exacting social position she was in later 
 years called upon to fill. Although most tenderly nurtured, she entered 
 upon her pioneer life with the courage, common sense and energy which 
 ever characterized her. At first she lived in a part of the building occu- 
 pied by her husband as a store. Subsequently Mr. Bowman built the 
 residence now owned by Mr. Asa Judd, and known as "Maple Hill" from 
 the beautiful trees then planted by Mr. Bowman. 
 
 Mrs. liowman, although always a P.-esbyterian, became a member of 
 the first Methodist class organized in Dixon, in 18.37, of which her hus- 
 band was the leader. 
 
 Mr. Bowman during his stay in Dixon was a frequent contril)utor to 
 various magazines, and gave evidences of a literary talent which was 
 afterwards utilized in a work on European travels and also as the chosen 
 historian of the campaign of his friend and neighbor of many years, Gen. 
 Wm. T. Sherman. 
 
 Being unsuccessful as a mercliant, Mr. Bowman studied law and was 
 admitted to the bar in 1843. Meanwhile he took a contract for and 
 erected the present Court House at Dixon. He then removed to St. Louis 
 and engaged in the practice of law there, at San Francis(;o, Baltimore 
 and Kansas City. During the war he attained to the high rank of brevet 
 Major General. 
 
 — 274 - 
 
Mrs. Bowman spent much time in Europe for her health, and traveled 
 there for a considerable time with her friend, Mrs. Gen. Lew Wallace, 
 wife of the gifted author of "I>en ITur." She died at Kansas City in 1885, 
 having survived her husband just ten weeks. Gen. Sherman pronounced 
 the closing eulogy over the remains of Gen. Bowman, his friend and 
 companion of thirty-five years. 
 
 Isaac Boardman, who was for many years county clerk, circuit clerk, 
 and editor of the Dixon I'elegraph, was married to Father Dixon's 
 daughter Mary in 1841, who died ten years later. Mr. Boardman died in 
 1885. 
 
 In 1839 came Thaddeus D. Boardman and Rev. W. E. Boardman, the 
 brothers of Mrs. Bowman and Isaac Boardman, 
 
 Thaddeus D. Boardman, as has been said, was married to Mary, 
 daughter of John Richards. They built and occupied the old stone 
 house recently demolished by Mr. J. V. Thomas. After the death, in 
 1862, of his first wife, Mr. Boardman was married to her sister Jane, the 
 mother of the writer, who in 1872, in her infancy, was deprived by death 
 of that mother's care. 
 
 Mr. Boardman will be remembered by many with respect for his sin- 
 cere christian life and for the constant warfare he carried on against 
 intemperance and other evils, while his simple trust in the honesty of 
 human nature caused him to be often imposed upon by those on whom 
 he relied, to his serious financial loss. His death occurred at Chicago in 
 1886. 
 
 Rev. W. E. Boardman and wife resided in Dixon less than a year. 
 During the war he was secretary of the great Christian Commission, and 
 afterwards became a leading Presbyterian divine and evangelist, both in 
 America and Europe. His later years were spent in London, where his 
 wife now resides. Rev. Boardman and wife are best known as the authors 
 of a number of widely read religious works. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Caleb Talmage lived on what is now the R. B. Fargo 
 farm, and were also members of the first Methodist class. Mrs. Talmage 
 was from Buffalo, and is remembered as a quiet woman of strong domes- 
 tic tastes. She was a cousin of Bishop Chase, first Episcopal Bishop of 
 this diocese. After Mr. Tal mage's death she was married to a Col. Stev- 
 enson, a near relative of Vice-President A.E.Stevenson. Her death 
 occurred a few years ago. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Geo. A. Martin, who had come in 1834, soon returned to 
 Kentucky, their old home, but again moved to Dixon, where they lived 
 on the Drew farm on the Palmyra road. 
 
 — 275 — 
 
Mrs. J. W. Hamilton, the merchant's wife, died at Dixon early in the 
 '40's. 
 
 "Aunt Rhoda," wife of Peter McKinney, who came in 1836, was 
 greatly admired and respected by all with whom she came in contact. 
 
 Others who came to Dixon in 1837 were: Mr. and Mrs. Horace Benja- 
 min, parents of Ed. Benjamin. Mrs. Benjamin subsequently was mar- 
 ried to Aaror. L. Porter, once sheriff of Lee county, and died in 1891. 
 Miss Caroline Davis, who became Mrs. James Benjamin, mother of Mrs. 
 Chas. H. Noble. Mr. and Mrs. Fred McKinney, the parents of Mrs. 
 Libbie Wilbur (the second child born in Dixon) and Mrs. Chas G. Smith. 
 Mrs. McKinney was one of Dixon's most loved and respected women and 
 was familiarly known as "Auntie Fred." Her painful death from an 
 accident occurred in 1892. Mr. and Mrs. Otis Loveland, and the daugh- 
 ter of the former by a previous marriage, Miss Emlline Loveland. The 
 latter soon married Smith Gilbraith, one of the most extensive owners of 
 Dixon real estate of that day. After his death she was married to Mr. 
 Seaman and both now reside in New York. She is an aunt of Mrs. 
 H. E. Paine and Dr. H. J. Brooks. 
 
 The then very limited supply of marriagable ladies was at this time 
 greatly increased by the arrival of the six Misses Clark, from Canada. 
 One of these was soon espoused by G. W. Chase, Lee County's first 
 recorder. It is related of the latter that his wife and his family, being 
 desirous of getting him to remove to the east with them, induced him to 
 enter the coach to kiss his wife farewell, when Sheriff Porter slammed 
 the door shut, and the husband, much loath to leave his beloved Dixon, 
 was rapidly driven away. 
 
 During the previous year Stephen Fuller and wife, parents of Cham- 
 pion Fuller, settled on the "Cave" farm two miles up the river, where 
 the latter still resides. Mrs. Fuller was in delicate health and lived a 
 very retired, quiet life. She was a member of the Baptist Church, of 
 which Elder Cowell was the first minister in Dixon. Baptist and Metho- 
 dist services were then held alternately in the old school house. 
 
 Tn the "Bend" of the river and on the prairie east of town, during the 
 year IH.'H, there settled the families of Mr. and Mrs, James Sauter, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Solomon Shellhammer and Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Hetler. Mrs. 
 Sauter still lives in the Bend with her children. Mrs. Hetler, at the 
 present time, has a home with her'son John in the Bend. She is more 
 than ninety years old and for several years has been totally blind. 
 
 Other arrivals in 1837 were David H. Birdsell and wife, from Albany, 
 whose two daughters were married to Rev. Luke Hitchcock and Rev. O. 
 
 — 276 — 
 
F. Ayers. Mr. Birdsall succeeded James Dixon as postmaster, but soon 
 removed to Lee Center, where Mrs. Birdsall died. Mr. and Mrs. Daniel 
 Brookner, both of whom, with their sou, died during the great cholera 
 epidemic in Dixon. Cyrus Williams and wile, whose daughter is now 
 Mrs. Ira W. Lewis, wife of the present circuit clerk. Thomas McCabe 
 and wife, who during the mining excitement removed to California, 
 where they acquired considerable wealth. 
 
 llev. James Depuy, who came in 1837, was the lirst Episcopal clergy- 
 man settled in Dixon. He had a wile and one child. Father Dlxou gave 
 him the block now occupied by Messrs. J. V. Thomas and E. C. Parsons . 
 and upon the foundation now covered by Mr. Parson's house Mr. Depuy 
 built his little home. The house has been moved twice and is now 
 owned by Mr. Kicken and stands on North Jefferson avenue, it is prob- 
 ably the oldest house in North Dixon. Mr. Depuy had a well close to 
 his back door and many years afrer Mr. Depuy's house was gone, the 
 writer's only sister, when she was but four years old, fell into this well. 
 Fortunately her father was close at hand at the time of the fall and 
 immediately went to his daughter's rescue by letting himself down into 
 the well in one of the buckets. The child the next day told the story 
 thus: "Papa was a long time coming for me yesterday. When i went 
 down I went heels over head and I made a great splash." 
 
 In the fall of 1837 Mr. David Law and daughter, Mrs. Mary McGinnis, 
 came from New York. They were joined about six months later by Mrs. 
 Law with her two sons, William and David (the present Dr. D. H. Law 
 of this city), and her three daughters, Grace, Bessie and Theodosia. Mrs. 
 Law lived to be an hundred and two years old. She died at the home of 
 her daughter, Mrs. McGinnis, in 1782. Although so very old shewasevera 
 great reader and enjoyed conversing on the news of the times, which slie 
 did most intelligently. She lived to see wonderful changes wrought 
 around her and took a keen interest in them all. Her life was ever that 
 of a devoted Christian. Mrs. McGinnis still lives on her farm a few miles 
 down the river. A woman of great talents — she has sacriticed herself 
 while she labored to relieve suffering and distress. She has been 
 
 "A flower born to blush unseen 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
 
 Bessie Law became, in 1845, the wife of our loved and honored Dr. 
 Everett, and though less generally Known than was her husband, she 
 was equally beloved by those who were so favored as to know her. She 
 died in 1881. Theodosia Law became the wife of Wm. Kennedy »nd 
 removed to St. Paul, where she died in 18G5. 
 
 — 277 — 
 
While all of Mrs. Law's daughters were very attractive, Miss Grace 
 was so strikinj?lv beautiful in her youth as to excite questions at Sabbath 
 service as to who that beautiful young lady might be. The delicately 
 molded features, golden curls and exquisite complexion made her exceed- 
 ingly attractive. She chose to remain unmarried and lived here until 
 her death in 1892. She showed much the same characteristics as her 
 mother and has been called the "Personification of Industry."' 
 
 The young ladies of this family with their very agreeable mother 
 made their home a most delightful place to visit. They greatly enjoyed 
 getting their friends in for a merrv evening and their Halloween parties 
 are well remembered events. 
 
 During the next year (1838) the number of familes in Dixon was 
 greatly increased. Solon Crowell became associated with Mr. James 
 Wilson (then an old bachelor, commonly called "Granny Wilson") in the 
 management of Dixon's second hotel. "The Rock River House," the first 
 hotel having been the "Western Hotel" erected in 1736. Mr. Crowell 
 and wife later removed to Oregon and were the grandparents of Dr. 
 Crowell and Mrs. Augustus Lord of this city. James N. Kerr and wife 
 came to Dixon during this year. Mr. Kerr, with John Dixon, Jr., opened 
 the first cabinet shop. His sister Eliza married Joseph Buckaloo and 
 lived in the "Bend." Left a widow with six children, the eldest of whom 
 was but twelve years old, Mrs. Buckaloo heroically set herself to the task 
 of raising and supporting her family entirely by her own efforts. Her 
 long and useful life was terminated in 1892. Three of her children, 
 Thomas, George and Amanda, still reside in this community. John 
 Lord and wife, parents of John L. Lord and Mrs, H. Kelsey, came also in 
 1838 from New Hampshire. Mr. Lord engaged in the blacksmithing 
 business at Dixon, but his wife died soon after their arrival. Mr. and 
 Mrs. John Moyer, parents of Jeremiah Meyer and Mrs. Swygart, came 
 during this year, and resided at first on a farm east of Dixon. The Edson 
 family, consisting of Charles Edson, his wife and children, Joseph, 
 Epaphras, Eliphalet, Clinton, Harriet, Lucy and Elizabeth, settled upon 
 the present Abrara Brown farm, southeast of town. They were a very 
 highly cultivated and much respected family, deservingof moreextended 
 mention than can be given here. Those surviving live near Yeeka, Cal. 
 
 Mr. Wm. Seward and wife, parents of Mrs. Wm. Peacock of this city, 
 during this year bought Caleb Talmage's farm and moved upon it. David 
 Welty, afterwards county judge, removed with his wife to Dixon in 1838, 
 and afterwards for a time lived upon a farm near Walton. Charles 
 Welty and Mrs. Leander Devine, of their children, still live in Lee 
 
 — 278 — 
 
County. Edward Perry and wife, who came this year, after a few years 
 returned to Toronto, their former home. Mr. Perry was strict to the 
 verge of Puritanism in his religious life, lie and iiis wife were in the 
 habit of spending that portion of the Sabbath left after attending church 
 at the home of their old friend, Mr. Richards, whose long-sulfering fam- 
 ily, which contained several young people, were obliged those long Sunday 
 afternoons to patiently sit and listen to Mr. Perry's unnielodious voice 
 while he read to them sermons of some early divine. 
 
 Miss Elizabeth Sherwoood came here from New York City in 18:^8 and 
 was soon married to Mr. John P. Dixon, son of Father Dixon, who resided 
 with her at her present home in North Dixon at the time of his death. 
 This estimable lady, though of retiring disposition, is greatly loved by 
 all who knew her. Iler two children, Frank and Louise, now make their 
 home with her. 
 
 The same year Dr. Everett brought here from Princeton his first wife, 
 Emily Everett. He had just V)uilt a home on the present site of the 
 home of his daughter, Mrs. W. N. Johnson, and there he took his young 
 wife, Mrs. Evetett showed unusual talents and beauty of character, but 
 she lived only about live years after coming to Dixon. 
 
 In February of 18.37 Dr. Charles Gardner and Erastus DeWolf came 
 here from Rhode Island and in the spring of '39 returned to stay. Dr, 
 Gardner's family then consisted of his wife and two years' old daughter 
 now Mrs. Jaiues A. Hawley. Their home was about six miles out on the 
 Chicago road, and Dr. Gardner practiced medicine throughout the sur- 
 rounding country. Mrs. Gardner was a most intelligent and enterprising 
 woman who is remembered by her neighbors and friends witli pure love 
 and respect. Increased acquaintance with her brought increased esteem. 
 Her surviving friends are strongly reminded of this true woman, by her 
 daughters, Mrs. James A. Ilawley and Mrs. E. C. Smith, who resemble 
 their mother both in looks and characteristics. Mrs. Gardner died in 
 1878. 
 
 Mrs. DeAVolf was Mrs. Gardner's aunt and was a woman of noble 
 qualities. She was the mother of Rev. Wm. DeWolf, who was so well 
 known in Dixon. Her death occurred in 18.51. 
 
 Rev. Luke Hitchcock and Rev. O. F. Ayres, who married, as has been 
 said, the two daughters of Mr. Birdsall, were among thcvse who first came 
 to Dixon in 1839. The former was Mie first regular Methodist Episcopal 
 pastor in this city, and afterwards attained to high otlices in that de- 
 nomination. He and his worthy wife pass the decline of their useful 
 life at Chicago with their daughter, Mrs. Wilson. Rev. Ayers came from 
 
 — 279 — 
 
Albany, New York, and engaged in business here, preaching at places 
 near home when a vacancy occurred. A more hospitable family than 
 that of Mr. Ayres could hardly be found. They took great pleasure in 
 entertaining and did it in a royal manner. Mr. Ayres died in 1882, having 
 lived to celebrate his golden wedding with his six children present. His 
 son, D. B. Ayres, is still a resident of Dixon. Mrs. Ayres, since her be- 
 loved husband's death, has spent her time with her children. 
 
 Others who came with their wives in 1839 were Thomas March, a 
 farmer living east of town, Herman Mead, father of Mrs. Sherwood Dix- 
 on, I. D. McComsey (whose widow subsequently was married to Judge W. 
 VV. Heaton and John Van Amaru. 
 
 Only one couple who came in 1840 will here be mentioned, for by that 
 time so many new people were moving in that to speak of all would make 
 this paper entirely too long. But the sweet face of one sweet woman 
 who came in 18-10 must be allowed as the last of this collection. Mrs. J. 
 T. Little came from Castine, Maine, a young and beautiful bride. During 
 the later vears of her useful, Christian life, the curls of jet have gradually 
 turned to silver, but now only serve to enhance the beauty of the dear, 
 gentle face. Mr. Little was at first a merchant, having a store on Water 
 street. His nursery, started a few years later, was the first nursery of 
 Dixon. In all the vicissitudes of pioneer and after life, Mr. Little ever 
 found in his wife a help meet who brightened all the way as they have 
 journeyed hand in hand toward their heavenly home. 
 
 On the fourth of July, 1840, were celebrated no less than three mar- 
 riages in the old school house. The plan was to have all three take place 
 at six o'clock in the morning, but one couple from Palmyra found the 
 hour too early for them; the other two couples, Libbie Cogginsand Daniel 
 Stevens, and Annie Bobbins and James Campbell were more determined, 
 and at the appointed time were married by Uev. Luke Hitchcock. When 
 the knots were both securely tied loud congratulations were, at the pro- 
 per moment, unexpectedly sounded from the mouth of a cannon which 
 had, unknown to the wedding parties, been placed close to the school- 
 house door. Miss Bobbins had come from New York in 1838. 
 
 Others of the young pioneer women, before marriage seemed to them 
 desirable, succeeded in supporting themselves by teaching school. The 
 Hrst of these to teach in the "Bend" was Miss Ophelia Loveland who 
 afterwards was married to J. \i. Broaks and was the mother of Dr. H. J. 
 Brooks and Miss Madgic of this city. She received for her service the 
 munillcient sum of one dollar and a quarter a week and "boarded 'round.' 5 
 Her successor. Miss Jane Wood, afterwards Mrs. Horace Preston., received 
 
 — 280 — 
 
the same ainouut. ani where there were small children in the family 
 with whom she was spending her week, she slept with the children in a 
 trundle bed that was trundled out from under the larger bed. Mr. Pres- 
 ton was at the time courting Miss Wood, and each week he hired a horse 
 and buggy for $1.50 to go for her and bring her home. On considering 
 the small prolits of that arrangement it seemed to them better to go into 
 partnership, which they accordingly did. 
 
 It is with the conviction that scant justice has been done in the pre- 
 ceding pages to these noble pioneer women, that I take my leave of 
 them. Of their many virtues, of their useful lives, their tiardships and 
 their joys. I have been able to say but little Of some, entitled to the 
 highest respect and extended eulogy, the limits of this article have pre- 
 cluded me from giving more than a mere passing recognition. Doubtless 
 this catalogue of names is incomplete. Nor can a history now be written 
 which shall bring the reader into genuine sympathy with the lives of 
 these pioneers. They are now all but gone, and their very names will 
 soon perhaps be forgotten. But the foundation they laid, and the works 
 ihey wrouglit, and the influence they extended upon those who follow in 
 their footsteps, will endure. 
 
 Bessie Boardman Winqert. 
 
Dr. OfiVer 'Ev^.r^iL 
 
 WFTAT a fund ol' material I rui^jht have had for this little sketch 
 of rnv father's early life iu the west, had I treasured in my mind 
 
 all that I have heard him recount. As it is, I fear it will be 
 very meager. 
 
 My father. Dr. Oliver Everett, was born in Worth! n<jf ton, Mass., Sept. 
 12th, 1811. He was one of a family of fifteen children, ten of whom lived 
 to reach man and womanhood. He received his education in the school 
 of the neighl)orhot)d, working upon the farm in summer and attending 
 school in winter. He then entered upon the study of medicine, teaching 
 school in the meantime to pay his way through college. In .June, 1836, 
 he graduated from the Berkshire Medical College connected with Wil- 
 liams College. His old preceptor. Dr. Dauglierty of Marlborough, N. Y., 
 then offered him a partnership with him. l)ut "Westward ho!" was the 
 watchword tlien, and he declined, determining to seek his fortune in the 
 much-talked-of but comparitively little known West. 
 
 Two years previous his elder brother and a married sister had pre- 
 ceded him and located at Princeton in this ^ate. I hope I may be par- 
 doned a littls digression here, that I may relate an incident in my aunt's 
 wedding journey. A year or two before her husband had come west and 
 taken up a claim, on which he had built a log cabin. In 1834 he returned 
 to Massachusetts and married her, and they made the journey to Chicago 
 in the usual manner. When they reached there either the funds had run 
 low or there was no conveyance to be obtained to take them the remain- 
 der of their journey. He found her a boarding place, left her and 
 walked to Princeton, got his ox team and wagon and proceeded to Chi- 
 cago, returning to his little log cabin in triumph with his bride at his 
 side in the ox cart. Thus were difficulties overcome by those old pioneers 
 of tbe early days. 
 
 Rut to return to my father. He bought as large a stock of medicines 
 and instruments as his very limited means would allow, and with a 
 small but comfortable oul.lit of clotliing, for all of whicli one chest was 
 amply sufficient, he turned his steps westward, to see what fortune and 
 the future had in store for him. In those days the journey was made by 
 stage or wagon from my father's home to Albany, thence to Buffalo via 
 the Erie Canal, and from there by steamboat by way of the lakes to Chi- 
 cago. When he arrived in the latter place he found there was no way 
 for him to reach Princeton, where he intended visiting his relatives for 
 
 — 282 — 
 
a few days, except by walking. Leaving his heavy baggage there, he 
 slung his carpet-bag over his shoulder on a stout stick and started on his 
 long, lonely tramp— knowing nothing of the country or what dangers he 
 might have to encounter. One hundred and live miles did he pursue his 
 weary way over the trackless prairies in the heat of summer, sulfering so 
 from tiiirsi— for the streams wore scarce — that he was glad to scoop with 
 his hands the water from the hoof-prints of cattle, which recent rains 
 had filled, and in that manner quenched his thirst. Think of it, you 
 pampered young men of to-day, who think it a hardship to walk even a 
 mile or two. 
 
 After spending a little time with his relatives in Princeton he bought 
 a horse and started out to seek a location. On the third day of Septem- 
 ber, 1836, he rode into "Dixon's Ferry" and here he decided to "pitch his 
 tent" and "grow up with the country!" When my father came here 
 Dixon had four log houses, a frame house, a blacksmith shop and two or 
 three houses in course of construction. In a letter written a few years 
 after he came here, I find the following description of the place as he 
 first saw it. "This slope, where the heart of the town now is, was then 
 covered with large, spreading trees, while the ground beneath, perfectly 
 clear of underbrush, presented a smooth green surface, which with the 
 ever-beautiful river at its base and the opposite bank rising gradually in 
 the distance — also covered with trees and presenting a clean, park-like 
 appearance, with the bluffs crowned with lofty trees and the islands dot- 
 ting the river, appearing like compact, rounded masses of green foilage, 
 veiled only by the silver lustre of the maple leaves, presented a scene of 
 of beauty and loveliness wtiich has passed away forever from this place. 
 The woodojan with his ax, the quarryman with his pick and crowbar- 
 are sad despoilers of beauty." 
 
 When a mere lad my father had developed a great fondness for the 
 study of botany and geology, which had been fostered by his friend and 
 preceptor, Dr. Daugherty. Together they pursued these studies in leisure 
 hours, and roamed the hills and vales for new specimens of flora and 
 minerals. These western prairies, covered with such an endless variety 
 of rare flowers which were strange to him, and the limestone formations 
 hereabouts— so different from the sandstone of New York and the granite 
 of his native state— were sources of enjoyment to him. IVIany an hour 
 that might otherwise have been lonely they helped him to pass. From a 
 child 1 can remember how, when going to make a country call, he always 
 tucked under the buggy-seat a good-sized tin box, in which he was wont 
 to bring home well moistened his specimens of flowers, as fresh, almost, 
 
 — 283 — 
 
as when gathered. In this way he acquired one of the most complete 
 herbariums in this state. He continued this practice until within a few 
 years of his death. 
 
 In those early days the country was very sparsely settled, and many 
 places where my father was called to attend the sick, were ten. twenty 
 and sometimes forty miles away, but in summer's heat or winter's cold, 
 he never hesitated, no matter how long the distance. He was forced by 
 circumstances to perform many strange offices, aside from alleviating 
 pain. Not a few times was he called where there was no neighboring 
 woman to bear a helping hand, arul lie would, as tenderly as any woman, 
 bathe and dress the tiny, helpless creature who had just begun its life's 
 journey. One time he was called a long distance to see a man who was 
 very ill. When he got there he found that he had but a few hours to 
 live. The man had not realized his condition until that late hour, and 
 was most anxious to execute a will before he died. There was no lawyer 
 within many miles, and even if one were sent for, he could not get there 
 in time. He begged my father to draw up his will. My tather had no 
 knowledge of such craft, and hesitated, for he feared it might not be 
 valid, but later on consented. He drew ud the will and had it signed 
 and witnessed. The man died soon after with his mind at rest, and I 
 will add that the will my father made that day held good in the eyes of 
 the law. 
 
 When he had been here about six weeks he received a letter from his 
 brother in Princeton, who all his life had been a great tease and fond of 
 his little joke. I take the following extract from that letter. "We were 
 veryglad to receive yourletter through Mr. Mosely, who has just returned 
 from Dixon's Ferry. I understand that you have had a new patient, and 
 that you had a most desperate case, inasmuch as you gave saddlebaqs and 
 all at one dose. I have some curiosity to know whether the patient recov- 
 ered or not. I expect you will immortalize your name if "successful in 
 the case." My father was ever most easily teased, and I have no doubt 
 the above had the desired effect. 
 
 In those early days the wolves were in great number, and it was no 
 uncommon occurrence for him, on his long rides into the country, to be 
 followed by a pack of the hungry creatures. At that time he had no 
 knowledge of the use of firearms, and another alternative occurred to 
 him for disposing of his troublesome bodyguard. Before starting to 
 make a call a long distance away he would mix a quantity of strychnine 
 into little balls of bread or meat and carry them with him in his saddle- 
 bags. When the wolves began to follow him, he would throw the balls 
 
 — 284 — 
 
out, one by one, and have the satisfaction of beholding some of his foes 
 stretched lifeless before he had passed out of sight on the prairie. 
 
 In the suninier of 1837 my father began the erection of a house. In 
 August of the same year he was married. I cannot refrain from taking 
 the following extract from a letter describing his wedding, written by 
 an aunt in Princeton to another member of the family. It is so amusing 
 that I copy it entire. "I have just returned from the nuptial ceremon- 
 ies of Dr. Oliver and Cousin Emily. This morning at nine o'clock was 
 the hour of their plighted vows at the hymenial altar. They were mar- 
 ried at Mr. Bryant's, not, as is usual on such an occasion, in the house, 
 but in the little grove near the house. There were six couples present to 
 witness the performance. The grove was cleared from underbrush, and 
 being of itself of a peculiarly romantic character, together with the taste- 
 fully arranged tables for the reception of the cake, wine, sangaree, lem- 
 onade, etc., rendered it a spot delightfully interesting. Next I must give 
 you a description of the bride. She was clad in a rich royal purple silk 
 dress; on her neck was a blond lace ruffle, plaited down to a point, and 
 neatly enclosed with a bow of white satin riband; on her head was 
 thrown an elegant white blond veil (presented by the doctor), that hung 
 nearly to the ground; her hair hung in graceful ringlets, and round her 
 head was tastefully entwined a wreath, artificial in form, but composed 
 of natural materials, vis : oak leaves ornamented with flowers. The 
 bridegroom also was dressed in superb style, and in short, the betrothed 
 pair in point of splendor far exceeded anything I have witnessed in this 
 country." I never imagined my dear father could have been such a 
 "sweiZ." They drove across the country to Dixon for their wedding 
 journey. As his house was not completed they boarded until part of it 
 was made habitable, when they went to housekeeping. From the time 
 my father had a home of his own he had a garden in which he cultivated 
 both flowers and vegetables, and in which it was his delight to work in 
 leisure moments. Being called from home for a few days at one time he 
 wrote his young wife a very brief letter, bidding her "be careful and keep 
 the gate closed so that the cows will not get into the garden." 
 
 One of the gentlemen who boarded at Mr. Gilbraith's, next door, was 
 tlie owner of a black bear, which was kept chained to a large tree in the 
 backvMrd. My sister Emily was a baby at that time and her cradle had 
 been liiought into the kitchen that her mother might have her near while 
 she was attending to her household duties She was sleeping and her 
 mother had gone to another part of the house, leaving her alone. A few 
 minutes later my father entered the house and to his horror beheld the 
 
 — 285 — 
 
huge beast with his head over in the cradle snuffing at the unsuspecting 
 infant, probably with the intent of ascertaining what sort of a cub she 
 was. He lost no time in driving the bear out, and he was soon secured 
 to the chain from which he had escaped. 
 
 In 1842, after Ave brief years of married life, my father lost his wife, 
 who died quite suddenly, having been ill but a few days. 
 
 On the fifth of February, 1846, he was married to my mother, Bessie 
 Law, by Rev. Luke Hitchcock. On account of ray grandfather Law's 
 death the preceeding December, it was a very quiet wedding, after whicli 
 they drove from the farm to their home, and my mother at once took her 
 new duties upon her by preparing their supper, of which they partook in 
 the kitchen which is still a part of my home. I never saw a more united 
 or happier couple than were my father and mother. They were indeed 
 one in every respect; in their tastes, their feelings and in every particular. 
 In all the years they lived together I can never recall one cross or even 
 Impatient word passing between them. 
 
 My father had been some years in the west before he learned to use 
 fire arms. After that he never went into the country unaccompanied by 
 rifle and shot gun, and many a deer he brought home, as well as quanti- 
 ties of geese, ducks, prairie chickens and quail, so that the table was 
 always bountifully supplied with game. I remember one of his anecdotes 
 in regard tothe^game, which afforded him untold amusement, but brought 
 woe to the hearts of the unoffending small maidens. Tie had been many 
 miles away on a professional call and returned just at nightfall bringing 
 into the house with him a large goose, which he laid at my cousin's feet, 
 saying, "Here Kizzie is a goose for you to pick." My sister Emily clapped 
 her hands and demonstrated great joy at her escape, for it was a rule in 
 the family that the girls were in turn to pick the game, and they both 
 detested picking a goose. Her joy was of short duration, however, for 
 my father returned again to the house, bringing with him another goose, 
 which he handed to Emily. He went to and from the buggy until he had 
 presented each of the girls with five geese, and still one remained, which 
 in all made eleven that he had brought down with one shot of his d()u])lc- 
 barrelcd shot gun. The girls were at first disgusted, then indignant, 
 and finally became speechless from shere amazement and despair. Oh! 
 no, you Nimrods of the present day, this is no "fish story," but fully wit- 
 witnessed and duly sworn to by his much abused victims and others. 
 
 At one time when a large sum of money had been deposited in the 
 land office, which was just across the street from our house, there were 
 grave fears that a scheme was on foot to rob the office. Mr. Mixter, the 
 
 — 286 — 
 
land agent at that time, came to my father and asked his assistance in 
 hidini,^ the money. They du^,' a hole in one corner of our cellar and after 
 nightfall the money was V)rouj?ht over and placed therein. They then 
 replaced tlie earth and stamped it down until there were no traces left 
 of the ground having l)een disturbed. There ii, remained until arrange- 
 ments were made in the course of a few days for its removal to Chicago. 
 
 It is needless to say that my father's slumbers were none of the sound- 
 est during that time, or that his rifle and shotgun were kept within con- 
 venient distance, for the country at that period was infested with a band 
 of robbers and horsethieves. My father was one of the sufferers at their 
 hands, for he had a fine black mare stolen, and could never obtain the 
 slightest trace of her or bar abductors. 
 
 The county jail it those years was in the northwest corner of the lot 
 now owned by Mr. George Steel, and just across the street south from our 
 house. Many were the alarms the family had from that quarter. When 
 Croft, one of the men who committed those terrible murders on Green 
 River in the early days, cut his throat, with a razor accommodatingly 
 supplied him by his own wife, the sheriff rushed over for my father. 
 When he got there he at once saw that nothing could be done to save the 
 man's life, and, indeed, it was but a few moments until he breathed his 
 last, thus closing another chapter in that terrible record of crime. I will 
 relate one other incident connected with the jail that occurred some 
 years later when Mr. Porter was sheriff. One night Mr. Porter had 
 neglected to lock in their cells the five or six prisoners, most of them 
 desperate characters, confined in the jail. They planned among them- 
 selves a sham fight, which would necessitate the sheriff coming into 
 their midst, when they intended to overpower him and make their escape. 
 Their plan worked well up to a certain point. When Mr. Porter heard 
 the disturbance in the jail he at once entered fearlessly, telling his wife 
 to lock the door after him. He was almost instantly struck down by one 
 of the men, with two stove legs tied together as a weapon. Seeing this, 
 Mrs. Porter lost no time in getting to the window and calling loudly for 
 help, and adding that Mr. Porter was being murdered. My father, hear- 
 ing her call, jumped from his bed, seized his gun from the corner of the 
 room, and without waiting an instant, ran to the rescue in his night- 
 clothes: entering the jail he saw Mr. Porter lying in the little narrow 
 passage-way, bleeding and apparently lifeless, and the desperate men 
 making every effort to break open the door. At once pointing his gun at 
 them my father shouted, "Into your cells, every one of i'ou, or I'll shoot!" 
 The prisoners literally fell over each other in their haste to obey hiscom- 
 
 — 287 — 
 
joand. It has always been a question In my own mind as to what it really 
 was which impelled such a precipitate flight on the part of the prisoners 
 — the gun, or the extraordinary appearance my father must have pre- 
 sented. Other neighbors by that time were at hand, well armed, and the 
 jail door was opened, the men securely lociced in their cells, and Mr. Por- 
 ter carried out. His wounds, most of which were on his head, were dan- 
 gerous, but not fatal. Upon examination the following morning it was 
 ascertained, not a little to my father's chargrin, that he had valiently 
 gone to the rescue with a gun in which there was no load. 
 
 My mother was best know in her own home, and was among the poor 
 and distressed, ever seconding my father's efforts for their relief. She 
 cared little for society at large, but was warmly attached to her friends. 
 Her unselfish devotion to her own family can never be expressed and is 
 known only to those who experienced it through every day of her life, 
 which came to a close, after a long and most painful illness, on the fourth 
 of May 1881. 
 
 The summer the dread cholera so devastated our little town we child- 
 ren were sent into the country to stay at our grandmother's, but my 
 mother refused all of my father's appeals to her to accompany us, and 
 stayed at his side through it all. One man, a stranger here, without 
 either home or money, was taken with the disease. My father put a cot 
 in his barn and brought him there, while my mother cared for and nursed 
 him through that terrible illness, until death relieved him from his suf- 
 fering. My father was called to see an Irish woman who lived in a little 
 shanty below our house, and found she had been attacked by the same 
 disease which had but a few short hours before carried off her husband. 
 He did all that he could to relieve her that night. Early the following 
 morning he went again, to find that the "Grim Destroyer" had been be- 
 fore him. Nearly every one was paralyzed with fear, and the poor creat- 
 ure was alone, except for her little child a few months old who lay in 
 the bed beside her trying to draw nourishment from her cold breast, and 
 patting with its tiny hands her dead face. He lifted the little, helpless 
 thing in his arms, and carried it home to my mother. She kept and 
 cared for it several days, until the priest, hearing of it, came and relieved 
 her by sending it to a relative of its parents. One man, who was very ill, 
 came to the house for some medicine. My father was not at home, so he 
 sat down under a tree in the yard to wait for his return; my mother in 
 the meantime doing all she could for his relief, but in vain, for death 
 came to him where he sat. Such were some of the scenes through which 
 my father and mother passed in chat dread time. 
 
 — 288 
 
A Frenchman, whose name has escaped my memory, came here in the 
 early days, bringing? with him an old French woman as housekeeper. 
 He remained but a short time, leaving the poor old lady to shift for her- 
 self in this strange new country, and in destitute circumstances. She 
 lived in a little log cabin on the corner of Galena and Second streets, 
 where Mrs. Lewis now lives, and tried to support herself by making lace, 
 an undertaking in which she was not successful. My father and mother 
 furnished her with fuel, wood and other necessities of life, until her 
 health failed completely, when they brought her to their own home, and 
 cared for her for several years, until her death. Some of the early set- 
 tlers now living will still remember "Old Madame Gabriel," as she was 
 always called. Hers was the first dead face my childish eyes had looked 
 upon, and I have a vivid remembrance of it even yet. 
 
 One night, while my father was away from home on an all night call, 
 my mother had a very bad fright. About twelve o'clock two men came 
 to the door, and demanded admittance. She asked them what they 
 wanted, but repeated demands for admittance was all she could get in 
 reply. When she refused, most decidedly, they threatened to break in 
 the door, and immediately began to carry out their threats. My mother 
 and the servant girl moved all the large pieces of furniture and piled 
 them up against the doors, for the men would try first one door and then 
 another. Then an interval of quiet would ensue, when only their voices 
 could be heard, muttering beneath the windows, which were protected 
 by stout shutters. Again the attack on the doors would be renewed, and 
 so it was during all the hours of that long night, which to my mother, in 
 her terror, seemed endless. Just as the day was dawning, after a terrible 
 onslaught, during which it seemed that the door must give way every 
 minute, the disturbance ceased. Soon after my father returned, and 
 when it was light two empty whiskey bottles were found beneath the 
 window — sufficient explanation of the occurrence. 
 
 Who would have thought that our dignified parents could have perpe- 
 trated such as First of April jokes? I am loath to admit this, but it is a 
 lamentable fact. My mother and aunt Theodosia, who had been the 
 victims of many of my father's jokes, conceived the idea of "getting 
 even" with him. It was the First of April and the hour was at hand. 
 Early in the morning they told him that he had received an urgent call 
 to Mr. Mixter's. After hurrying through his breakfast he departed in 
 great haste, unsuspicious of the trap into which he had fallen. When he 
 reached the house he found Mr. and Mrs. Mixter happy and smiling, but 
 — as he afterward remembered — showing some surprise at receiving a 
 
 — 289 — 
 
friendly call at so inopp(trtune an hour. After chattinj.? for some titue he 
 in([iiired who was sick; their looks of dismay, and finally Mrs. Mixter's 
 exclamatioii, "VVhyl Doctor, don't you know it is the First of April," 
 threw the rc(iiiisite lifilit on the situation. lie departed amid roars of 
 lanj,'hter, hut io was many a long day before he was allowed to forget how 
 beautifully he had been "April fooled." 
 
 When I think of my father's busy life and how really few leisure hours 
 he had at his disposal, I can but look with wonder upon the extensive 
 collections of specimens in geology and natural history which heacquired- 
 lie spent but little money upon them, but many hours of exhaustless 
 patience and i^ainstaking. Some of my earliest recollections are con- 
 nected with his collection of i)irds I caii see him now. with coat off and 
 hard at work, while we children watched with open mouths and eyes tlie 
 process of removing the skin so carefully that scarcely a feather would 
 be rulHed, only to see it tilled out again, and the bird set up '"as natural 
 as life" when all was done. Of insects, bugs and butterflies alone he had 
 between two and three thousand specimens. With what infinite care he 
 arranged the silken, gossamer wings and tiny, slender legs. Taken al- 
 together his was one of the largest private collections in this state. His 
 later years were devoted mainly to the accumulation of tlie fossil sponges 
 in this vicinity, of which he was really the discoverer. The eighth vol- 
 ume of the Geological Survey of Illinois, in which they are described and 
 illustrated, has to say of them as follows: "The collection described on 
 tiie following pages comprises, without doubt, the most interesting and 
 important addition to our knowledge of Palaeozoic sponges, ever made." 
 
 In looking over his papers I have come upon letters from Asa Gray, 
 (wliose works on Botany are so widely known) Major Powell, A. II. Wor- 
 then and others of distinction, which illustrate what his standing was 
 among scientific men. 
 
 It is told by members of his ovvn family that as a boy, n)y father was 
 extremely fretful and irrital)le, and that when he was quite small, his 
 mother had to bribe him with a snoon full of apple sauce before she could 
 induce him to go to bed. The old saying, "the boy is father to the n)an,'' 
 certainly was at fault in his case, for all who knew him recognized the 
 extreme evenness of his disposition. 
 
 I (juote the extract given below from a paper written by Dr. C. C. Hunt 
 of this city, and read at the meeting of the Illinois 'Medical Socicly in 
 188!), in regard to one branch of his practice: "For many years iline 
 was scarcely a case of importance for many miles around that he was not 
 called upon, sooner or later, to visit. He personally attended over thirty- 
 
 — 290 — 
 
six hundred labor cases, and saw in consultation, probably, many hun- 
 dred more. This, considering the sparseness of the population during 
 the greater part of his professional career, indicates an amount of iiard 
 work and physical exposure, that were simply immense." My father was, 
 at one time, offered the chair of Obstetrics in the Rush Medical College, 
 of Chicago, but declined. He was elected mayor nf Dixon in 1863. He 
 was a member of the first Board of Trustees for the Northern Illinois 
 Hospital for the Insane at Elgin, serving from 1869 to 1873, when he re- 
 signed the position. He was also the first Pension Examining Surgeon 
 appointed in this district, receiving the same without solicitation, ami 
 serving until his resignation took effect. 
 
 In the spring of 1862, my father was sent south with many other phy- 
 sicians, after the battle of Shiloh in anticipation of another battle near 
 Corinth. Upon returning home, some twelve thousand dollars were in- 
 trusted him by the "boys" to bring home to their friends throughout the 
 county. This he did, carrying the large amount of money in his satchel, 
 which certainly was a mark of great confidence in his fellow-men, if 
 rather a risky proceeding. During the entire time of the war, he at- 
 tended the families of soldiers free of charge, and when in need, supplied 
 them with wood from his farm, and with money. In this way he served 
 his country, as well perhaps, as many a man who went to the front. 
 
 The photograph of the first house in Dixon, to be illustrated in this 
 book, was taken from a painting by Noah Brooks. My father, from mem- 
 ory, drew the sketch of Father Dixon's log house, and Mr. lirooks painted 
 it, supplying the figures, wagon, and scenery; the latter, not true to 
 nature, as I have often heard my father say that the trees were so large 
 in those days, and so free from underbrush that a horse and buggy could 
 be driven almost anywhere through the woods. At one time when he 
 was making a call at Mr. Brierton's, on what is now known as the Days- 
 ville road, he looked across the country from the high hill to White Rock 
 and saw a herd of deer grazing there, which will illustrate what the tim- 
 ber was, to enable one to look through it so great a distance. 
 
 On the third of September, 1886, the llftietii anniversary of my father's 
 settlement in Dixon, he had a reception, sending out between three and 
 four hundred invitations to old friends and patients, near and far. In 
 the afternoon the reception was given to those from the country and sur- 
 rounding towns, and to the old settlers of the earliest years: in the eve- 
 ning to the city friends and patients. Very few regrets were received, 
 and our rooms were crowded, both afternoon and evening. I can see be- 
 fore me my father's happy face, and the joy shining through his eyes, to 
 
 — 291 — 
 
which the tears of deep feeling had welled; nor, shall I soon forget how 
 much pleasure he took during the following winter in recalling each inci- 
 dent of that "red letter day." In the evening a beautiful reclining chair 
 was presented him by his friends, the Hon. E. B. Washburne, who came 
 from Chicago to attend the reception, making the presentation speech 
 in the following words, which I copy from the Evening Telegraph of that 
 date- 
 
 "My Friend:— It has fallen to my lot to voice the kindly feelings of 
 your many friends. It is with great pleasure I undertake the task. You 
 and I have been friends for many years, and I have had none better than 
 you. Both of us were Yankees seeking new homes. You were a little 
 bit spryer than I, and came to Dixon's Ferry in 1836; I was four years 
 behind you. * * * It was always a great pleasure for me to visit Dixon. 
 Two of my dearest friends lived here. They were big hearted men, kind, 
 honest and true. 
 
 "A wit's a feather, and chief a rod, 
 
 An honest man's the noblest work of God." 
 
 I know of no man in honor of whose fiftieth anniversary of settlement 
 I would go as far as I have on this occasion. To make your remaining 
 years— and all hope and trust they will be many — more comfortable, and 
 as a slight token of their great love for you, your friends have asked me 
 to present this beautiful chair. It is with more than ordinary pleasure 
 that I speak the feelings of these, your neighbors, who have presented 
 you wiih this beautiful token of their respect and love. Two men who 
 lived here 1 have long known as the most kind and honest men that I 
 have ever known, and I need not say that I refer to Father Dixon and 
 you, Doctor Everett." I also copy the closing sentence of the article 
 written by Mr. John Moore of the Dixon Sun and published in that paper. 
 "As we looked over the great gathering of friends that came up last Fri- 
 day night with such spontaneous expressions of regard, we could but 
 wonder if there might not be hovering near, an immensely larger circle 
 of old friends, tried and true, showering their blessings of benediction on 
 the silvery head of him who sat in our midst; and the thought would in- 
 trude itself that someday there would be another meeting at the Doc- 
 tor's house, when the eyes of the visible ones would be dimmed with 
 parting tears, but that larger host would, with outreaching arms and 
 welcoming smiles, come to the reception of the grandly good old man." 
 To me the conception seems very beautiful and comforting. I am very 
 pleased to pay this little tribute to Mr. Moore, for no one has ever written 
 with so much feeling or so fittingly of the old settlers as he has in the 
 
 — 292 — 
 
articles which tiave from time to time come from his pen. 
 
 I cannot close this paper without alluding to my father's great love 
 and veneration for Father Dixon. For fortv years they were the closest 
 friends. No young man ever had a wiser counselor or truer friend than 
 was Father Dixon, and each year that passed but cemented their friend- 
 ship more strongly. I have so many times heard my father say that he 
 had known Father Dixon as intimately and nearly twice as long as his 
 own father, and that he was sure that he had loved him quite as well, for 
 he had never met a better man or even, he thought, one so good. In his 
 later years his one keen regret was that the loved and revered founder of 
 our town had no monument to mark his last resting place and his most 
 earnest desire was to see one placed there before he, too, had passed 
 away. "Then," he was wont to say, "I can die happy." At one time he 
 and Mr. Alexander attempted to raise funds for this enterprise, but failed 
 in the undertaking. Not long will the good old Father Dixon's grave 
 remain unmarked. My father's hope will be fulfliled, though his eyes 
 behold not the monument which, through the efforts of the Ladies' Cem- 
 etery Associatien, will soon be raised. 
 
 After a short illness my father died on the 1st of May. 1888, but his 
 memory still lives in the hearts of many who knew him well and loved 
 him. 
 
Mro,. Ke^ia Law and FaTT^ii^. 
 
 MY j^nandiHofher. Mrs. Kezia (Tlillis) Law was born in Hillisboro, 
 near liclfast, County Down, Ireland, on the second of July, 1782. 
 The niarriaj,^e of her father and mother was qui tea ronumce. One 
 day when her mother was out riding her horse took fright and ran away 
 with her, plunging into a white thorn hedge, where both horse and rider 
 were held fast. Rescue was at hand, however, and young ITillis, who had 
 witnessed the accident, relieved her from her dangerous and unpleasant 
 predicament. The outcome of this adventure was not only one, but two 
 cases of "love at first sight." In the face nf opposition (principally on 
 account of their extreme youth and that the young man had just com- 
 menced his medical studies), they made a run-away marriage. When they 
 returned, hoping for forgiveness, the lady's father was so incensed at his 
 daughter's disobedience, that he decreed that they should never meet 
 again until the young husl)and had taken his degree. Stern old Scoth- 
 man, that he was, he never wavered in this determination, and their lit- 
 tle child was able to run alone before they received his forgiveness and 
 were united, nearly three years after their rash marriage. 
 
 My grandmother was the youngest of the family of six children. Ire- 
 land was in a very troubled state during her young days. Iler father was 
 obliged to leave his country on account of the part he took in the rebel- 
 lion, and enlisted as surgeon on board one of the ships of the East India 
 Company. Soon after reaching his destination, he died of yellow fever. 
 No communication from him ever reached the family from the time of 
 their parting, until tliey received the sad intelligence of liis death in a 
 strange land. In 18J2 my grandmother was married to David Law, 
 who was born in December, 1772, at Grange, County Antrim, Ireland. 
 In 1817 they emigrated to America with their three little daughters, my 
 aunt(iracc, the youngest, being then a babe but two months old. My 
 grandmother's mother also accompanied them. She, however, did not 
 long enjoy the blessings of our free country, for she died two years after 
 their arrival here. Wlien they tlrst came to this country, they settled at 
 
 — 294 — 
 
Hobokeri, New JerseV, where thfey remained tWd y&Ats\ then fetlloved tO 
 Weehawken. After a period of three years, they made their home in New 
 York City, where they lived until the year 1838. 
 
 Their home diiritif? that time was a refuge for many a poor Irish emi- 
 grant until employment could he procured for them. My grandmother 
 never turned a deaf ear to the cry of distress, and was ever to l)e found 
 in homes visited by sickness and death. One of their pensi(mers was an old 
 llevolutionary soldier, who had lost a leg during the war. They gave him 
 a room and every day his meals were carried to him. It was a matter of 
 much surprise and conjecture how it was that '"Old Josie" always man- 
 aged to have his dishes returned perfectly clean. My mother, then a child 
 ever full of pranks, determined to solve the mystery, so, after taking him 
 his dinner one day, instead of leavi'.g the room as usual, she Viid V)ehind 
 the door, and was greatly amused to find that he "licked the platter 
 clean." Their old home is now a portion of the far famed Central Park, 
 of New York City. 
 
 Such glowing accounts of the west reaching them, and particularly of 
 Illinois, they decided to come here, where some of their friends and rela- 
 tives had preceeded them. My grandfather, together with his oldest 
 daughter, Mrs. Mary McGinnis, and three of her children, reached Dix- 
 on's Ferry on the third of September, 1838. My grandfather had pre- 
 viously sent out monev and taken up land, on which a log cabin had been 
 built to secure it. Twenty feet distant from that was another l<ig cabin, 
 in which Captain Graham was living while his own house on the Rock- 
 wood farm (now owned by Smith and Lord), was in the course of con- 
 struction. 
 
 On reaching Chicago my grandfather hired teams to bring them to 
 Dixon, of McCormick (later of reaper fame), and also bought his first ox- 
 team of that same person. When they arrived at their journey's end. and 
 reached the little log cabin down the river, they found seven men in the 
 adjoining cabin, sick with fever atul ague. Only one of them had a bed, 
 the rest being rolled in blankets and l)ufTalo robes on *^he tlooi-. 
 
 It was almost night when they arrived. You can perhajis imagine 
 the welcome they accorded my aunt Mary, after having l)een for so many 
 months deprived of a woman's care and companionsiiip. Siie was not 
 prepared for such a scene of desolation arul discomfort, and it is little 
 wonder that she says, "she never can forget it," or the first supper that 
 was served for the weary travelers, viz: a huge tin platter of salt pork, 
 swimming in gravy, an immense corn-dodger, and bdwis of black cotfee. 
 
 — 2yu — 
 
Their beds were spread on some loose boards on the earthern floor of the 
 cabin. The following day my aunt Mary, and a woman they had brought 
 with them, set to work to bring about a better state of affairs. The 
 household goods they had brought with them were unpacked, beds set up, 
 and everything arranged with as much comfort as possible. 
 
 Captain Graham had brought a gardener out with him in the spring 
 from New York, and he had raised a fine crop of vegetables, which, with 
 the supplies my grandfather had broughc of coffee, tea, sugar, rice, crack- 
 ers, etc., enabled them to live comfortably. There were but few cattle 
 in the country at that time, and butter was fifty cents a pound, eggs fifty 
 cents per dozen, and all such commodities equally high. Later, my grand- 
 father enclosed the space between the two log cabins, which made them 
 a very commodious house for those days, and one that I remember well, 
 as many happy days of my childhood were spent within its walls. 
 
 They suffered many privations during that winter of 1838-9. Their 
 house was built of rough logs, the cracks filled in with clay and mortar, 
 but before the very severe weather had set in the walls received a coat 
 of plaster, which aided greatly in keeping out the cold. There were 
 large fireplaces at either end, where they had to do all their cooking. 
 It was a very cold winter, with much snow, and nearly everyone in the 
 country was prostrated by fever and ague. Accommodations were scarce, 
 and the "latch-string" was left out for friend and stranger, alike, and my 
 aunt Mary had a housef ull, aside from her own family, to nurse and cook 
 and care for during that winter. Before the spring came two Inmates 
 of the little log cabin had passed into the "sleep which knows no wak- 
 ing," and were laid to rest on the bluff. 
 
 The following June the remainder of the family in the east joined 
 them. I have an old journal, which my aunt Grace kept during their 
 journey from New York to Chicago. It was written in pencil in a small 
 blank book, and the writing is almost illegible, but by the exercise of 
 much patience, and the aid of a strong magnifying glass, I have suc- 
 ceeded in deciphering it, and liave felt amply repaid for my trouble. 
 There were in the party my grandmother, her three daughters, two sons, 
 and a grandson, and William Kennedy (who years after became the hus- 
 band of the youngest daughter, Theodosia), a man-servant and his wife 
 also accompanying them. They left New York the sixth of June, taking 
 a steamboat up the Hudson to Albany, where they had secured accommo- 
 dations on a canal boat as far as Buffalo. The youngest daughter was ill 
 when they left New York and continued very ill through the entire 
 journey, never being able to leave her bed, and having to be carried from 
 
 — 296 — 
 
one boat to another, when they had occasion to change. At one time 
 they feared she would never live to reach her journey's end. 
 
 Aunt Grace says in her journal, ''Oh! the horrors of a canal boat." 
 Of course, traveling three hundred and ninety-four miles, at the rate of 
 two and a half miles an hour, as she said they did, together with the 
 numerous stoppages at the locks and to take in passengers and freight, 
 must have made the journey seem interminable. The first few days were 
 very stormy, with strong wind, and the grinding against the locks and 
 other boats, caused them much discomfort. On such days they were 
 closely confined to the boat, but when the weather was pleasant my 
 mother, Aunt Grace and the boys would walk miles along the tow-path, 
 which somewhat varied the monotony. They were thus enabled to visit 
 many places of interest on their way. and enjoyed a delightful day with 
 a cousin at Syracuse, while the boat was undergoing some needed repairs. 
 The canal boat was very crowded and had they not had their own cabin 
 and table, they would have experienced even more dis{;omfort. 
 
 They arrived at Buffalo on the fifteenth of June and went on board 
 the steamer "James Madison," for their trip around the lakes. They had 
 very comfortable staterooms and found the change from the canal boat 
 very delightful. The first few days they encountered very stormy weather 
 and nearly every one on board was prostrated with sea-sickness. At 
 Detroit numbers of sight-seers came on board during the time the boat 
 remained there. The appelation "dude" was unknown in those days, 
 but I think might with justice have been applied to some of the above 
 mentioned, from my aunt Grace's description of them, as follows: "The 
 greater part of them were foreigners, French and English, with velvet 
 coats and caps, white kid gloves and canes. The first view they had of 
 the Indians was at Mackinac, where the majority of the passengers 
 landed, to visit the fort and satisfy their curiosity concerning the "noble 
 red man of the forest." They made many delightful acquaintances on 
 board the boat, and greatly enjoyed the trip, with the exception of the 
 few stormy days before alluded to. They arrived in Chicago on the twen- 
 ty-first of June, where my grandfather met them with teams and wagons 
 to convey them and their belongings to Dixon's Ferry. 
 
 My grandmother must have had but a faint conception of the difficul- 
 ties or expense of transportation from Chicago to Dixon, judging from 
 the amount of luggage she brought with her. She, however, was not so 
 much to blame, for nearly every letter my grandfather or aunt Mary 
 wrote to her contained a list of much needed articles. At that time 
 there was but one small store in Dixon, and it was impossible to obtain 
 
 — 297 — 
 
what they required. Then, too, the supply of tiiohey my grandfather had 
 brought with hiru had run very low, as he had sustained some severe 
 losses by means of counterfeit money, which at that time was being 
 largely circulated throu^^iout the west. 
 
 I take an extract from the one letter I have been able to secure, writ- 
 ten by my aunt, for 1 think it may prove of interest. "Be particular to 
 bring every thing you want, for you can get nothing here. My father bids 
 you sell the plows at whatever you can get for them. Of all things, do 
 not forget the seeds: 1 oz. of lirooklow; do. of Early York Cabbage; do. of 
 Savoy Cabbage; do. of Wellington seed; 2 oz. of Okro: do. of Nasturtium 
 seed, 2 quarts of Windsor beans. Try and get some parsnip seed from 
 Mr. Dunn. Remember the early and late peas; get some flower seeds. 
 Richard says for you to pack your roots in moss and clay. You need not 
 bring the pigs I wrote you atjoiit, for my father has got a very handsome 
 breed. Bring six reaping hool<s, four curry combs, three strings of sleigh 
 bells, two large and one small, the same as we have, and two cow bells 
 (copper). Get your churn, tubs and pails made in Greenwich street (op- 
 posite Clinton Market). Bring the crowbars, picks and dragging ma- 
 chine, four large hinges with hooks, for the barn doors, and all the hinges 
 about the house, and all the iron you have, and buckles for harness straps 
 scrap iron for shoeing sleighs, one large saw and butcher's knife, one bar- 
 rel of clover seed, and one of Timothy seed. Bring two pieces of the same 
 kind of cloth Mr. M. got father for wagon covers. Make bags and put 
 your beds in them; get plently of matting and wrap round your chairs and 
 furniture. Bring two pounds of saltpeter and six bottles of fever and 
 ague medicine." 
 
 This is but one of several letters that were written, containing direc- 
 tions of what they were to l)ring with them, all of which my grantlmother 
 followed to the letter. Is it any wonder then, that my grandfather stood 
 transfixed at the magnitude of her luggage? In addition to her house- 
 hold goods and all the things she had been directed to get, she had brought 
 enough young fruit trees, apple, peach, pear, plum and cheery, also sniall 
 fruits and flowering shriil)s of many varietie-^, to stock a nursery. Some of 
 them are still living on the old place, where they were planted by hands 
 long since folded to their rest. My grandfather was so greatly disgusted 
 at the amount of luggage she had brought that he gave away in Chicago 
 two wagon loads of her much prized fruit trees and shrubs (greatly to her 
 dismay), also, leaving there several barrels of old iron and peach pits. 
 
 They had l)rougiit their own (carriage from New York, so the ^iresome 
 drive over the prairies was performed in comparative comfort. During 
 
 — 298 — 
 
thy grandfather's absence in Chicago my aunt Mary had been very busy' 
 making preparations for the reception of the family— white-washing the 
 walls of their future abode, and giving it every appearance of comfort 
 that was in her power. When she saw the wagon train at a little distance, 
 she started out with her youngest child to meet them and give them wel- 
 come. So browned were they by their rough life of hardship and exposure, 
 that she was supposed, by her unappreciative relatives, to be a squaw and 
 her papoose. Not flattering, certainly, but perhaps excusable on their 
 part. 
 
 The man servant they brought from New York with them was quite a 
 character, and very much given to composing what he called "poetry," a 
 specimen of which I will give below. There were originally about twenty 
 verses, which he set to music, likewise of his own composition, but these 
 will suffice to hand down to future generations. I wish I might convey 
 to you the fine rich brogue in which they are said to have been sung by 
 the composer, or even the most excellent imiltation given by my mother 
 and other members of the family, which 1 am confident could hardly be 
 distinguished from the original: 
 
 "We crossed at Dixon's Ferry, 
 On the twenty-sixth of June, 
 Among the rolling prairies, 
 And the flowers in full bloom. 
 
 I'll vote for William Henry Harrison, 
 And I'll tell you the reason why, 
 He'll stop the speculation 
 That runs the country dry. 
 
 I hired by the month 
 As you very well do know. 
 And took the fever and ague. 
 Which caused me muckle woo." 
 
 I have not given the verses in the original order, but one here and 
 there, as they could be recalled from memory's depths. 
 
 During those first years they suffered many privations. My grand- 
 father was nearly seventy years of age, his oldest son, a delicate lad, who 
 had suffered from hip disease, and the other boys too young to be of much 
 assistance. Times were hard and it was almost impossible to get hired 
 help of any kind, so that often my aunt Mary, my mother and the other 
 girls had to go out into the field to assist in planting the corn, getting in 
 the hay and harvesting the grain. 
 
 They had no well or cistern for some time, and all the water they used 
 was hauled in barrels from the creek, a mile or more away. Theirdrink 
 
 — 299 — 
 
ing water was obtained from a spring in tlie ravine back of the house, 
 about three quarters of a mile. My cousin, Margaret, used to put a jug 
 on either end of a strap, throw it over her horse's baclc in front of her and 
 gallop off to bring the water. In the summer season thej' used to take 
 their washing to the spring to rinse the clothes. As soon as they could 
 they had a cistern made. Mv grandfather made two or three atte»apts 
 to have a well dug, but each time after getting down about twenty feet 
 they struck solid rock, and had to abandon the enterprise. 
 
 The game wliich was in such abundance here, and the river teeming 
 with fish, furnished the boys much enjoyable sport, as well as being a most 
 welcome addition to their larder. Their prairie chickens were brought 
 home in such quantities that my grandmother used to take the breasts 
 and salt them, afterwards having them smoked. They are said to have 
 been delicious prepared in this way. Sometimes there would be a little 
 grumbling that the wings and legs only were left for the table, but this 
 was a very rare occurrance, so plentiful were they. 
 
 Two or three times after their arrival here they were visited by roving 
 bands of Indians, of whom they were somewhat afraid. So stealthily 
 would they approach that the family would have no knowledge of their 
 presence until they would see a face at the window, or the latch would be 
 raised and half a dozen of the red men stalk into their midst. A demand 
 for food would invariably be made, which was always supplied them. The 
 cliief men of the tribe and their squaws only would enter the house, 
 leaving the remainder of the tribe outside. One squaw in particular I 
 have hearfi described as being very beautiful, with a wealth of raven hair, 
 which she wore in two long braids. The youngest child of my aunt, who 
 greatly admired her, would sometimes venture near and touch her hair, 
 an act that was resented witli fiercest scowls. While the family were 
 engaged in preparing the food for them, the Indians employed themselves 
 in examining every article of furniture with the greatest curiosity. That 
 which attracted tliem most was the looking glass, and they tool< the 
 keenest delight in standing before it, admiring themselves in almost 
 every conceivable posture. They seemed to have a certain etiquette in 
 regard to accepting hospitality, for if their plates were too well filled to 
 enable them to consume all the food thereon, they carefully cleaned off 
 every scrap and carried it away with them. Whether for a time of need, 
 or because they considered it the proper acknowledgement for their enter- 
 tainment, I d>) not know. One young chief took so great a fancy to my 
 cousin, Margaret McGinnis (a dark slip of a girl), that he offered to trade 
 a pony for her. An (»ffer, it is needless to say, that was "declined with 
 
 — 300 — 
 
thanks." The family were never troubled by any depredations from the 
 Indians or annoyed by them in any way. 
 
 My grandfather, like the majority of farmers in those days, raised 
 sheep. My grandmother spun the wool into yarn; and all the girls were 
 adepts in the art of knitting. Not only were all the family socks and 
 stockings fashioned from the yarn, but many other useful garments. My 
 mother and aunt Grace knitted warm jackets for all, and heavy hunting 
 coats for the boys. They were pretty well supplied with literature for 
 those days, and in the evening all would gather ai-ound the big fireplace 
 and one would read aloud whilethe resi were employed with their sewing 
 and knitting. My grandmother also spun the flax that was raised upon 
 the farm, from which they knit their summer stockings, gloves and mitts 
 and the hats, too, that the girls wore. I have one of the latter that 
 ray mother knit. It presents a very funny appearance now, but 1 
 imagine it (when well starched and ironed into the desired shape, and 
 with a ribbon around it), might have been very pretty, if a trifle odd 
 looking. Certainly, that "necessity is the mother of invention," proved 
 true in their case. 
 
 After the supply of shoes they had brought from New York had given 
 out, my grandmother made the shoes for herself and daughters. She had 
 lasts, awls, wax-ends (that she made herself), and everything that was 
 required for the making of them. The uppers were of cloth, and for the 
 soles she used old leather. It is a wonder to me how she could doit; hav- 
 ing no previous knowledge of the craft, it seems an almost impossible 
 task. There were no shoemakers here then, but a year or two later one 
 appeared on the scene, and my grandfather would hire him to come to the 
 house, where he remained until the entire family were well shod. 
 
 It must not be supposed that during those years of hard work and 
 privations, they had no amusement. In an old diary I And a description 
 of a Hallow'cn party at their old home in 1841, where all the old Hal- 
 low'en tests of fortune were tried by the youug people; such as burning 
 nuts, the three cups, diving for an apple in a tub of water, the ring placed 
 in the cake, and gazing into the looking-glass as the clock strikes twelve 
 to see one's true-love looking over one's shoulder, etc. A right merry 
 time they had until the "wee sma' hours." 
 
 From many old letters and anecdotes, the truth has been forced upon 
 me that the young people of those days were no wiser than at the pres- 
 ent time. Then there were dinners and balls at Governor Charters' and 
 other neighboring houses to which they went. Many were the jolly rid- 
 ing parties they had through the lovely country. They generally rode to 
 
 — 301 — 
 
church, either to Sugar Grove or to Dixon, on horseback. My aunt Grace 
 was never able to conquer timidity sufficiently to learn to ride, and was 
 thus deprived of much pleasure. 
 
 Three years after the family came west, the eldest son died, and was 
 laid to rest on the high bluff overlooking the river on the Rockwood place, 
 which had been set apart as a burial ground. The second break in tlie 
 family circle occurred tiiree years later, when my grandfather passed 
 away in December of the year 1845, leaving them in a new country, with 
 no protection or support other than boys, my uncle David being but 
 fifteen, and my cousin, James McGinnis, fourteen years of age. Amid 
 many discouragements, they struggled through the succeeding few years. 
 My grandmother's orchard and garden had however, more than fulfilled 
 her expectations Everything was done under her personal supervision, 
 and not a little of the work by her own hands. People used to come 
 many miles for the pleasure of walking through her garden, and seldom 
 was it that they departed empty handed, as she was ever most generous, 
 and freely gave both roots and cuttings. That may have been one reason 
 why it thrived so well. 
 
 The two older boys caught the gold fever and in January, '52, started to 
 California, crossing the plains in a covered wagon, as many a one had 
 done before them. On my cousin, William McGinnis, a lad not nineteen 
 years of age, rested all the responsibility of managing the farm, and right 
 well he did it. No boy ever worked harder or more faithfully, amid the 
 burdens that were placed upon him. 
 
 My aunt Mary has a journal which she kept from the beginning of 
 1852 until the ending of 1856, which I have perused with much interest. 
 It is mainly a record of unceasing labor by every member of the family. 
 There are, however, two or three items which I give. First, that all 
 important topic, the weather. During the first of January, 1853, there 
 were terrific ruins, lasting three or four days without cessation. At that 
 time their cellar was flooded, and the water even reached the first floor 
 of the house. In all this down-pour they were obliged to work unceasingly 
 to sayc their stock, but in spite of their efforts some of it was lost, mainly 
 pigs and very young calves. The last week of the same month the snow 
 fell for four consecutive days, and they carried between thirty and forty 
 bushels of snow out of their house, where it had drifted in. During the 
 first two months of that year, snow and rain fell for more than two-thirds 
 of the time. In April, of that same year, there was a terrible storm, 
 hail-stones falling the size of a goose egg. 
 
 It was not to be all clouds for them that year, for the crop was abund- 
 
 — 302 — 
 
ant. Such peaches as my gratuliuotlun' had that year, have never been 
 raised about here, either before or since. They were of great size and 
 enormous quantity. Tiiat year they sold between three and four hundred 
 dollars' worth of peaches alone, and in addition small fruiis and apples, 
 of which they had a larj^e supply. The great abundance of the wild 
 fruit in those early years can scarcely be imagined. When they went out 
 blackberrying, they used to take tubs to bring them home in; yes, and fill 
 them too. I have heard it said, that letters were written to friends 
 '• back east," by some of the earliest settlers here, telling that the straw- 
 berries were in such profusion that in driving across the prairies the 
 wagon wneels were dyed red from the juice of the berries. 
 
 My cousin, Margaret McGinnis, was a famous horsewoman, and small 
 and slender though she was, never knew the meaning of the word fear. 
 Many a colt on the place did she break to harness, and she was quite as 
 much at home on the bareback of a horse as in the saddle, and indeed, 
 usually rode in that way. She was also as proflcient in the use of shot- 
 gun and rifle as were the boys themselves. It is not so many years ago 
 since I saw her take the gun, go out and bring down a hawk flying over- 
 head. 
 
 In 1852, my aunts, Grace and Theodosia, felt that during the hard 
 times the family were subjected to, and as their assistance was really not 
 required on the farm, they ouirht at least, to support themselves; so they 
 came into town and carried on dressniaking for some years, until the lat- 
 ter was married. They were both earnest workers in the church, and 
 took an active part in niost enterprises that were started. The love of 
 flowers was a perfect passion with aunt Grace, and she always sur- 
 rounded herself with them. She was in delicate health many years 
 before she died, but worked in her garden often, when she should have 
 been in bed, and with her house-plants up to the very day she was taken 
 with her last sickness. Her hands were never idle, and she could not be 
 happy apart from her sewing and knitting, being employed with the lat- 
 ter industry, even while she was reading. The restless feet are stilled; 
 the busy hands are folded now, for rest came to her a little over a year 
 ago, at the age of seventy-flve. 
 
 My grandmother was a woman of great determination of character, 
 and in her old age (for she lived to be one hundred and two years old, 
 lacking one month), was a remarkable woman, inasmuch as she retained 
 the vigor of her intellect, which was always bright, until the very last. 
 She took the greatest interest in all the topics of the day, reading the 
 newspapers and keeping herself thoroughly posted in regard to both home 
 
 — 303 — 
 
and forei^'n news. A few months before her death she read the life of 
 the First Napoleon with the keenest zest. She had the most gentle, lov- 
 ing disposition, and charity beyond words to express, but could, when 
 occasion required, assume the most imposing dignity of manner and com- 
 mand. I have seen her draw herself to her full height, and say to a 
 member of the family (woman grown, who was speaking in some heat), 
 "That will do, Madame," in a tone so awful that not another word would 
 be uttered. I have a very distinct remembrance also, of the way in 
 which she was wont to punish me, when a child, for some misdemeanor 
 of which I had been guilty. She never raised her hand to me, but would 
 take me by the shoulders and give me so vigorous a shaking that the 
 teeth would rattle in my head. 
 
 My grandmother's bible was her constant companion, and she had the 
 most beautiful faith I have ever known, never murmuring, never ques- 
 tioning, but accepting all that was sent as God's will. She lived to see 
 most of her loved ones pass on before her to " That undiscovered coun- 
 try, from whose bourne no traveler returns;" and with the words "Tarry 
 not, Lord, for I come," ever on her lips — calmly awaited the summons, 
 which came to her in May, 1884. 
 
 I was told that as this was to be a woman's work, I must confine my- 
 self more particularly to the lives of the women of the family. This I 
 have endeavored to do, although by so doing, I have necessarily omitted 
 much of interest concerning those of the family who were boys at that 
 time. Grace Evekett Johnson. 
 
i{^j^<^i!woo^. 
 
 A DISTINGUISHING feature connected with the history of the 
 city of Dixon and its neighborhood, including the township of 
 Dixon, and one much commented on by visitors frjm the old 
 settled states of our union, is the fact that the iiihal)itants of this partic- 
 ular district are gifted with a very high social standing— that there seems 
 to be an air of aristocratic breeding among them which is not found gen- 
 erally outside the limits of our eastern cities and early established com- 
 munities. The cause of this distinguishing feature can be traced to the 
 emigration from the city of New York of a number of choice families in 
 the years of 1837 and 1838 to the Ilocic River Valley; Dixon's Ferry being 
 the terminus of their long journey. 
 
 A financial crisis bad overwhelmed the entire country in the year 1837, 
 The business men of the city of New York, particul irly the importers of 
 foreign goods, had suffered tremendous reverses uf fortune, and many of 
 them becoming wearied with the wear and tear of commerce, determined 
 to seek fortunes for themselves and families in the attractive west. 
 
 Dixon's Ferry on Rock River had been reported to some of these fam- 
 ilies as being the central point of the raust beautiful portion of the great 
 western country which had so many attractions fcr them, and to this 
 point their future steps were directed — and at this point the present 
 flourishing city of Dixon is located. 
 
 One of these families was that of Captain Hugh Graham, foimerly 
 captain of one of the Black Ball line ot ocean packets — the ocean grey 
 hounds of that day — who settled a few miles down the north ude of the 
 river from Dixon's Ferry. He had a commanding appearance and was 
 very choice of the language he used. An acquaintance from Dixon vis- 
 iting him one day at his farm remarked that he had not seen him in town 
 for a long time. "No sir," said Captain Graham, ''the boundary lines of 
 my plantation are now the limits of my peregrinations, sir." 
 
 Another family was that of John T. Lawrence, who had lately grad- 
 
 — 30.") — 
 
uated from the military academy of West Point— and of David Law, Sr. 
 who both settled close neighbors to Captain Graham. Of those who 
 settled up the river from Dixon's Ferry were the Wetzler and Bradshaw 
 families, both distinguished for their hitrh social relations in the city of 
 New York. Of the young unmarried men who formed part of this colony 
 of refined and educated families were Charles F. Hubbard and young 
 friends, familiarly called the "Bluff Boys," who settled down the south 
 side of the river from Dixon's Ferry a few miles; and Guy Carleton Bay- 
 Icy and his brother Richard Bayley, who settled up the river on the south 
 side a few miles from Dixon's Ferry. Tiiese young nisn were brothers of 
 the future Arciibishop of Newark, N. J., and connected with the old 
 Knickerbocker families of New York City, who formed the Four Hun- 
 dred of that day. 
 
 At the same time— spring of 1838— and in the same company, came 
 also a young man who afterwards filled the most prominent position in 
 the social and intellectual life of Dixon and its surrounding— Alexander 
 Charters— universally named and known as "the Governor" on account 
 of his liandsome and commanding appearance, his elegant manners and 
 his unrivaled hospitality, which made his home, named Hazelwood, a 
 household word throughout the entire western country. He selected for 
 his home the most beautiful spot to l)e found in the state of Illinois- 
 three miles up stream on the north side from Dixon's Ferry. He was a 
 widower with a young son, James B. Charters, then seeking his education 
 in the University of Dul)lin, Ireland. 
 
 Hazelwood was a tine estate of six liundred acres and the hospitable 
 mansion was situated on the bank of the river at an elevation of one 
 hundred feet, overlooking one of the most charming views to be found 
 upon any river in any conntry. 
 
 The Governor's hospitality was universal. He entertained the rich 
 and the poor, the learned and the unlearned, the titled personages and 
 the untitled, with the same warmth, the same elegance of mariner and 
 the same degree of dignity. He was visited by every distinguished man 
 and woman who happened to pass through Dixon and its vicinity. His 
 visitors included Stephen A. Douglas, Abraham Lincoln, William Cullen 
 Bryant, Margaret Fuller, Countess of Ossoli, many dignitaries of the 
 church and state, and many noblemen from abroad. 
 
 It was a common remark in those early days, when anybody inquired 
 of the hotel proprietor in Dixon the way to Hazelwood he was told to 
 "cross the river and take any road he pleased, that they all led to Hazel- 
 wood." 
 
 - 306 — 
 
The Governor was assisted in liis iiospilalile duties by his l)r()Lher, 
 Samuel M. Charters, and his niece, Fanny Charters, daughter of Samuel. 
 She was eighteen years of age when she came with her father to'reside at 
 ITazelwood, and being a most beautiful girl and of tine education she 
 added immensely to the atlractiuus of Ila/elwood. Her admirers con- 
 sisted of all the marriageable young men from many counties aiound 
 D'xon and she shed a lustre upon the society of that early day which is 
 even felt to the present time. 
 
 The Ilenshaw family, who settled on Hock River at Oregon, was also 
 a part of this little community which moved from New York City in the 
 spring of 1838 to Rock River, and formed a very interesting portum of it, 
 too. Mr. and Mrs. Ilenshaw had two daughters, very pretty girls, Emily 
 and Josephine. Mr. Henshaw speaking of them used to say, ''Emily 
 will marry for an establishment, but .Josephine, .losfiphine, she will go 
 for the heart." He proved to be a true prophet, for Emily married a rich 
 Mr. Clark of Chicago, for whom Clark street in that city was named, and 
 Josephine gave her heart to Mr. .loseph Latshaw, of Princeton, and ever 
 remainea a happy, loving wife. 
 
 Another of that band of early settlers of 18:n-:]s was John Slullaber, a 
 native of Salem, Massachusetts, who having resided al)road for several 
 years had all the bearing and appearance of an Englishman. He was a 
 man of large means for tho^^e days and settled on Pine Creek, near Rock 
 River, a few miles from Dixon's Ferry. He lived alone with his servants 
 and retainers in dignified style and was always s.,yled Mv Lord Shillaber, 
 and treated everybody with a haughty reserve When meeting an ac- 
 quaintance wl: o would ofler his hand in aalutation Lord St'illaber would 
 graciously present the forefinger of his right hand and allow that men:- 
 ber to be shaken. Occasionally he would send a communication to the 
 Saiem newspaper describing the beauty and magnificence of the Rock 
 River scenery and of the prairies surrounding his plantation. According 
 to his reports the game upon his preserves wa* plentiful, because when 
 he wished a supply he would go out and knock the prairie hens over with 
 his cane, and the wild turkeys were very, very abundant. 
 
 To recall the number of influential people who came in early days to 
 make their homes in Dixon would be a dittlcult task. Suttice it to say 
 that their descendants at the present time speak for themselves— nowhere 
 in the west can bo found a community gifted with such a refined, pol- 
 ished, highly educated and distinguish locki.ig ])eople a>. that now 
 dwelling in the city of Dixon and its environs. Old SEXTLEit. 
 
TBe cMexgie c»j^ Pfio'tograpB^. 
 
 SNAP SHOTS FROM 35EMOKY. 
 
 15 Y J. H. MOORE. 
 
 AMONG the improvements of the age but few things have made 
 more rapid advancement than the art of photography. A score of 
 years ago it was scarcely classed as an art, and a photographer was 
 regarded more as an artisan than an artist. A glance at the pictures of 
 those days and of these will warrant the distinction. The early produc- 
 tions of the photographer's skill were crude affairs and unsatisfactory 
 even to the cjmparativelv uncultivated taste of that period. The con- 
 centration and diffusion of light was but little understood, the chemicals 
 were but poorly adapted to their purpose, and the operator himself was 
 frequently a man of little if any artistic appreciation. Then it took sev- 
 eral minutes' exposure to secure a negative, and the result as shown in 
 the family portraits of the period was usually a ^tiff figure, partly out of 
 focus, one side in bright light and the other in a deep shade, and the 
 countenance unnatural, generally expressionless. Now all this is changed, 
 and by the instantaneous process, a picture is taken unerringly true to 
 nature; the most fleeting snadow of a smile or a frown is caught in the 
 twinkling of an eye and the very grace of motion is almost preserved. 
 
 These contrasts were vividly presentedi-in a half hour's wandering 
 through the oldest gallery in this part of the country. 
 
 There is a-little sort of honeycomb instrument by which a man may 
 V)e multiplied in miniature twenty-ttve times in the sruip of a finger, 
 receiving that number of perfect portraits about tlie size of a postage 
 stamp, while from yonder closet comes life-size portraits, twenty by 
 twenty-four inches in size. 
 
 This little affair, that looks something like a spiritualist cabinet, is a 
 place where the most wonderful feats of magic are performed. Here sits 
 the magician, his head half hidden under the folds of a dark curtain, 
 with his more than magic pencil, putting hair on bald heads and erasing 
 
 — 308 — 
 
wrinkles wrought by the hand of time. Faces merely comely wheh they 
 ^^0 in here, come out radiantly beautiful; faces careworn and cross are 
 touched with beatific serenity. Moles magically disappear into dimples; 
 ana freckled faces are transformed into comple.cions of angelic trans- 
 parency. 
 
 Here is a chair, simple in appearance, but with some half dozen at- 
 tachments, clamps, rests, ball-sockets and swivel joints, capable'of a 
 hundred transformations, and by means of which a tired mother's temper 
 is savei irom explosion, a restless baby rendered docile and happy, and 
 a fat and frowning child transmogrified into a smiling cherub. 
 
 But all the magic of a photograph gallery lies not in apparatus. Seated 
 in the reception parlors, how full of reminiscences of the far away past 
 are the pictured walls on every hand. How kindly look down upon us 
 the faces of the friends of other days. The sturdy pioneers, who have 
 long since moved on to that bourne from whence no traveler returns, 
 seem to belie the Shakespearian adage and come back to us in veritable 
 reality. 
 
 From yonder frame look ont the calm and kindly featuros of the ven- 
 erable John Dixon, father and founder of our city, whose snow-white 
 locks fall gracefully over his broad shoulders. The friend and counselor 
 alike of the white man and the red. Nachusa was a name universally 
 revered and beloved. Yonder is Dr. Everett, another grand old man, 
 who for more than a score of years was principal medicine-man of the 
 pale-faces in Northern Illinois, and who assisted in ushering into the 
 world most of those earliest to the manor born. 
 
 Over there is Father Whii;ney, the centenarian, who having rounded 
 his hundred well spent years of life, passed to his peaceful death. Old 
 as he is, there remains a merry twinkler in his eyes that tells that for 
 him life had not lost its enjoyment. When he came here the west was a 
 vast wilderness, and the virgin prairies between Dixon and Franklin 
 Grove, untouched by the plow, was one vast sea of emerald green, 'heaving 
 with billows of wild blossoms in gorgeous rainbow tint. Here is Ihu 
 portly figure and genial face of Governor Charters and his protege, Geo. 
 Foote. How they speak to us of the whole-hearted hospitality of Hazel- 
 wood— of days and nights ever to be remembered, but never to return. 
 Hete are James L. Camp and B. V. Burr, who for so many years l;etween 
 them ran the politics and postofflce of Dixon. There is Dr. Gardner, of 
 Thompsonian practice, who late in life thought himself not too old to 
 follow Greeley's advice to young men, and went west to found a new 
 home, which hs did not live to enjoy. Here is McL. Wadsworth. who 
 
 — 3U9 — 
 
having escorted hundreds of old settlers through the peaceful portals of 
 Oakwood cemetery, at last himself reclines beneath its leafy shades. 
 There, the lios firmly set, and eyes that fairly sparkle with animation, is 
 Col. John Dement, the hero of the Black Hawk war and the sturdy 
 standard-bearer of Northern Illinois Democracy, whose will was iron and 
 whose heart was as staunch as oak. There is Hon. Joseph Crawford, 
 with features more mild but no less Arm; whose feet have pressed nearly 
 every foot of sod in Lee and surrounding counties, as government sur- 
 veyor; a carefnl business man, eminently honest and universally honored, 
 conscientious and conservative, a wise counselor and cultured companion. 
 Here is the flne aristocratic face of Judge John V. Eustace, tinged with 
 a smile of slightly sarcastic humor. With a heart as tender as a child's 
 and a soul that would flash into instant flery indignation at the commiital 
 of wront? that took the form of meanness, be it against friend or foe. A 
 man who, not without fault, was one of the manliest of men. 
 
 Here is the lithe figure and bright features of the suave E. B. Stiles 
 who could refuse a man a favor with such infinite grace that the solicitor 
 would retire feeling in better mood than if almost anyone else had com- 
 plied with his re(iuest. Isaac S. Boardman, first clerk of Lee county, 
 and who in his many years of editorial control of 3'/ie Telegnqjh never 
 told quite all that he knew. Isaac Means, his implacable enemy, but a 
 man wlio beneath a brusk exterior hid a warm and generous heart. 
 Squires Morgan, Stevens and Bethea, a triumvirate of justices of the 
 olden kind, a terror to wiong doers. Rooert F. Lan;^^ whose rugged old 
 Scotch features beam with energy, honestv and an iron will, and whose 
 handiwork, as endurable as his sturdy good qualities, is seen in the piers 
 of the Dixon bridtje. Col. H. T. Noble, one of Dixon's early educators, a 
 soldier of unimpeachable patriotism, a man of fertile brain and unbounded 
 public spirit. Others will write ot his military and public record, but 
 this portrait brings out a dimly developed memory-picture of a little 
 stone school-house among the first bnildings in Dixon constructed of 
 that enduring material. Within its walls the first teacher, in 1848, was 
 James Lum; the second, in 1850, Henry T. Noble. On each side of the 
 small room— ample enough, however— along the wall were two or three 
 rows of seats and primitive desks. At one end, opposite the door, was a 
 huge fire-place, up the capacious chimney of which in winter escaped 
 nearly all tne heat from the burning logs beneath. To the left was the 
 teacher's desk, the receptacle of not only Ms books, but of our marbles 
 and balls and apples and chewing gum, which so often became a sort of 
 contraband of war. On the seats at this side sat the yirls. (We called 
 
 — 310 — 
 
them girls in those clays— young ladies you would call them now.) Many 
 of them I can recall to memory, though most of them are beyond recall 
 in fact. Jane Ann Ilerrlck, tall and queenly, who afterward became 
 the wife of the s3hool teacher and lost her life in the terrible bridge acci- 
 dent of May 3, 1873. Ann Ophelia Potter, handsome and bright, arter- 
 ward Mrs. F. A. Soule. The Mead sisters— Laura and Parmelia— the 
 former now Mrs. C. .1. Reynolds, of Colorado Springs, the latter (Mrs. 
 Hoffman) also a victim of the bridge disaster. There, too, sat Frt nc 
 Noble, the teacher's cousin, fat, fair and full of frolic, something of a 
 tom-boy, perhaps, but with a heart bigger than any boy's. The Ayers 
 girls, Libbie and Mary. Henrietta Dixon and Sarah Elizabeth McKen- 
 ney, lirst and second children to the manor born. Anna Eustace, now 
 Mrs. B. F. Shaw, stately and dignified even in her young girlhood. These, 
 with many others, more dimly remembered, were the lanjbs who sat at 
 the teacher's right, while at his left, with the kids, sat Edward and Ed- 
 win, the twin Sterlings, who were so much alike that it was difficult to 
 avoid punishing one for the misdeeds of the other. "Bird" and "Jim"' 
 Ayres; Joe Morrell, the eaibodi.nent of good-natured mischief: John 
 Wealty, now in Washington; John L. Lord and his brother '-Gus"; "Ep.'" 
 Edson and "Eph.'" Grow: J. D. Messer, who was always with Will Van 
 Arnfm; Henry Dement and Oscar McKenney. To all of us in those far- 
 away days Henry T. Noble, in his vigorous young manhood, was not only 
 a teacher, but a friend and companion. 
 
 But upon the gallery walls hang other pictures. There is Col. Silas 
 Noble, so long recorder of the government land office, who, though well 
 advanced in life, was too full of patriotic fervor to remain at heme while 
 younger men were fighting for the preservation of the Union. James 
 Goble, one of Lee county's early sheriffs, always in good spirits, fond of a 
 good story and a good laugh, and perhaps for that reason a general favor- 
 ite with the young folks. E. W. Hine, we believe Dixon's first or second 
 merchant tailor, who nevertheless was very much more than the "ninth 
 part of a man;"" being a rerlned and cultured gentleman, whose home in 
 early days was a favorite resort for congenial spirits. His family of five 
 has now no living representative. 
 
 James Van Arnara, whose optical organs had a decidedly intro- 
 spective turn, was a character in those days, who is said to have said 
 that if he knew that he had a drop of honest blood in his body he would 
 open his veins and let it out. "Jim,"' however, was the self-constituted 
 righte: of many wrongs in the primitive days, and marshaled at least 
 one party to tar and feather a man for the ill-treatment of an orphan 
 
 — 311 — 
 
girl. James Hatch, whose picture wears i pleasant smile, was bixon's 
 tlrst baker, who in 184S baked all the crackers and hard bread for Dixon's 
 delegation of gold hunters, lo be used in their three month's trip across 
 the plains. These were baked in an oven in the basement of the house 
 still occupied by Mr. Hatch, corner of Peoria and River streets. The 
 upper floor was then occupied as a dwelling and wagon shop by the fami- 
 lies of John Moore (father of the writer) and PI B. Blackman, and well 
 do we remember seeing E. B. Baicer and others of the California crew ride 
 the rail with which they worked the dough to a pioper stiffness. 
 
 There is Theron Cumins, emphaticaly a self-made man, who laid the 
 foundation of his fortune in the suburban village of Grand Detour, and 
 is now ai the head of the olilest and most extensile manufacturing com- 
 pany in the city. A man of few words, but wh^se words are fraught with 
 forceful meaning, he not infrequently reminds us of General Grant. 
 
 Dr. John B. Nash, for many years one of the two physicians in this 
 region of country. A tall and intellectual looking man of pleasing coun- 
 tenance and kindly heart. Retiring from practice, he opened the tlrst 
 drug store in the villiage. He became one of the early students of and 
 converts to the spiritual philosophy, and his home was the most promi- 
 nent rendezvous of its exponents. He was among those who visited Pike's 
 Peak during the gold faver, and there became lost to his family and 
 friends— his bones probably rest in some unknown spot in the mountains 
 of Colorado. 
 
 Oh, there is John W. Clute, who half a century ago commenced per- 
 fecting the soles and repairing the understanding of the people of this 
 community, and is still pegging away, the first and tliC last of the wor- 
 shippers at the shrine of St. Crispen, his useful career has not yet wdxcd 
 to an end. While he pounds his lapstone he can relate in detail most of 
 the local incidents in the lapse of the time since 1840. 
 
 Here hangs a portrait of Henry K. Strong, of the township's constab- 
 ulary, who wJth James C. Mead and the writer divides the honor of set- 
 ting type for the first paper printed in Lee county. May 1, 1851. It was 
 the Dixon IHegraph, still hale and hearty in its forty-second year. The 
 wife of the editor (Mrs. Chas. R. Fisk), was, in all probability, the first 
 woman who set type on any paper in this part of the country. The print- 
 ing office was over the store of Little & Brooks, now D. W. McKenney's 
 livery stable on River street, and The Teleqraph, after many removals, has 
 returned to w.thin a half block of its birthplace, the writer still occas- 
 ionally taking a hand at the case. 
 
 Here is W. W. Heaton, one of the earliest judges of the circuit court 
 
 — 312 — 
 
of Lee count}', a man small of statue, but of broad culture, solid rather 
 than brilliant, slow but sure. Well do we remember the accident by 
 which he was deprived of hie second wife — one of the first fatal accidents 
 to occur in Dixon. Mrs. Heaton, her son and infant daughter were re- 
 turning from a drive. The horse became suddenly frightened and 
 unmanagable by his boy driver. Tiie carriage was overturnod, and the 
 mother, rendered helpless in her endeavor to shield her babe, was thrown 
 violently against the corner of the Methodis Episcopal church( now the 
 residence of J. W. Kent) and was instantly killed. 
 
 Joseph Cleaver, almost forgotten perhaps, came to Dixon in 1845, and 
 was postmaster in 1854, dying in July of that year, one of the lirst, (I 
 think the very first) victims of the cholera epidemic. 
 
 There is the brawny, black-eyed J. M. Cropsey, the veteran Vulcan of 
 the village, who was equally skilled in forging a horse-shoe or spinning a 
 yarn, and whose fertile iiuagination might have earned him the title of 
 the Jules Verne of the West. Not far off is a picture of David Welty, 
 who came from Buffalo, New Nork, in the spring of 1838, and for many 
 years was "mine host" of one of the earliest hosteleries, the Western 
 Hotel, which by another name still stands on Hennepin avenue. 
 
 Oh, here we have a galaxy of distinguished individuals— a sort of 
 "Lincoln cabinet" picture in fact. The central figure is "Deacon" 
 Quartus Ely, and he is surrounded by a coterie of a dozen choice spirits, 
 not all old seitlers, and several of them already mentioned. There is 
 Hal Williams, a brilliant young lawyer; Ferris Finch, an artist who 
 buried his capital talent under a government appointment at the capital; 
 Ozias Wheeler, one-time sheriff of Lee county: James L. Camp, Dixon's 
 best known postmaster; P. M. Alexander, the pioneer hardware dealer; 
 the two Benjamins— "Andy" and "Jim;" L. A Divine, Judge Welty, B. 
 F. Shaw, the veteran editor of the Northwest; Henry Becker and Isaac 
 Boardman, an apt follower of his partial namesake, Isaak Walton, and a 
 disciple of Nimrod. In the days of auld lang syne this cabinet met in 
 frequent session, and shruuded in vaporous wreaths arising from choice 
 Havanas or less aristocratic, but more malodorous "kinnekennick," its 
 members oft discussed the chequered afTairs of life. Even kings and 
 queens, as well as knaves, were admitted to these sessions. As in the 
 outside world, hearts were sometimes exchanged for diamonds, and clubs 
 and spades were frequently found in opposition. Ah, is it true that in 
 the game oflife spades always win? They have turned tlie sod upon the 
 graves of most of "Deacon" Ely's cabinet: but it may bo that with "the 
 great majority"' they ure now engaged in the discussion of weightier 
 themes. Let us hope so. as we turn their pictured faces to the wall. 
 
 — :u:5 — 
 
■■\\)/iy'^''^M-^'^^^' 
 
 MRS. E. B. BAKER. 
 
Mr*. E. B. Baf^er anS Otfier*. 
 
 M' 
 
 RS. E. B. BAKER, the subject of this little sketch, was the tlrst 
 white child who crossed Rock River. She was born on Fancy 
 Creek, six miles from Springfield, Illinois, in INIarch, 1827. Her 
 father, Mr. Kellogg, was appointed to lay out a road between Peoria and 
 Galepa, where the land office -Jvas then situated. This he did in 1828, 
 and it was known as Kellogg's trail, and was the only thoroughfare be- 
 tween the central portion of the state and Galena. In the spring many 
 people made their way to the lead mines over this route, as the mining 
 fever was at its height, and in autumn emigrated southward again with 
 the birds. At one time quite a large party, men, women and children, 
 forded the river near here in their wagons. The young men of the party 
 considered this a fine opportunity to go bathing, and, as the w-igon train 
 passed on, disrobed and disported themselves for some time in the crystal 
 waters. At last, realizing that the time was passing, they returned to 
 the bank, only to find that not a vestige of their clothing remained. The 
 Indians had crept up and stolen every garment, and they were forced to 
 follow on after the wagon train in a state of nature. In laying out the 
 trail Mr. Kellogg was so delighted with the northern part of the state 
 that he determined to take up a claim, the same known in history as 
 "Kellogg's Grove,'' and in 182!) moved hh, family there. In 1831 the 
 Dixons, to whom he was related, having located at "Dixon's Ferry," and 
 strongly urging him to settle near them, he moved to Buffalo Grove, 
 where for some years he kept a pul^lic house. There were but four large 
 rooms in the house, Imt no other "tavern'" being within many miles, they 
 sometimes accommodated as many as fifty in one night; beds being laid 
 all over the floors, while some slept wrapped in their blankets, thankful 
 to be under the shelter of a roof. When the rush to the mines set in they 
 would often serve as many as two hundred extra meals in a day, of which 
 Mrs. Jiaker, then a child, would keep count with kernels of corn. Three 
 times were the familv forced to leave their home on account of expected 
 Indian outbreaks; once during the Blackhawk war. oiu'c previous and 
 another time later. Mr. Kellogg served as a scout or guide during the 
 time of that war. 
 
 — .-317 — 
 
It was no uncommcjii occurrence for the Dixon children to drive to 
 Buffalo Grove in the early morninjr and breakfast with the Kellogg 
 family. One night there had been a very heavy frost which covered the 
 thick prairie grass as with snow, so the Dixon boys thought It would be 
 a grand idea to have a sleigh ride, and they "hitched up'" and drove to 
 their uncle's before the frost melted. No record is left of the manner 
 in which they returned home. 
 
 The wolves were a source of great annoyance to the Kelloggs, often 
 killing a calf or a pig before rescue could come from the house. A 
 favorite dog deserted them for the companionship of a pack of wolves. 
 He came back some time liter, displaying a most sneaking, abject 
 appearance, but did not remain long, for in a few days he returned to 
 the companions of his adoption. I have heard it related that an uncle 
 of my own, while playing, was sometimes followed by wolves which 
 would devour the mice turned up by the plow in the furrow. 
 
 Mrs. Kellogg was greatly troubled at the lack of educational advant- 
 ages for chiUlren, and made every effort to secure the best instruction 
 those early days afforded. One winter "Father Dixon" would hire a 
 teacher to come to his house, and the Kellogg children attended that 
 school: the next winter the teacher would hold forth at Mr. Kellogg's, 
 and the Dixon children would go there. Mrs. Baker attended school 
 one year at Gaatiot's Grove near Eldena. 
 
 In 1845 she was married to Eli B. Baker, and the year following they 
 came to Dixon to live; their home being the A. S. Dimick house on the 
 corner of Main and Ottawa streets. 1849 Mr. Bi.ker went to California 
 with many others whom the recent gold discoveries had drawn thither. 
 INIrs. Baker was put to sore straits sometimes to provide for herself and 
 little family while he was pursuing his long weary way across the con- 
 tinent, but after his arrival fortune favored him, and he was enabled to 
 send home the means with which to provide a heme of their own, and 
 during his absence Mrs. Baker built the house on the corner of Boyd 
 street and north Ottawa avenue, now owned;— I think — by Rufus 
 Forsyth. Some years later she became associated with Mrs. Jane Little 
 in the millinery and dressmaking business, which was carried on 
 successfully for some years. 
 
 Mrs. Baker was ever ready to go to the assistance of the sick — at one 
 time taking care of a cholera patient prior to the epidemic, until death 
 ensued. Latterly, during some years she adopted the profession of 
 nurse, and how excellent she is in that capacity can be certified to by 
 many who have received her unremitting care. She has been a woman "of 
 
 — ;U8 — 
 
sorrow and acquainted with grief," for of her five cliildren but one 
 remains— lier youngest, an invalid son, to whom she devotes her life. 
 Two of her children met their death in the terrible bridge disaster of 
 1873. We, in whose midst she has lived these many years appreciate her 
 worth, and know how bravely she has borne all her afflictions. 
 
 Most of the old settlers are familiar with the following story, of which 
 I have heard two versions, both having the same tragical termination, 
 but I give the one which I have heard the oftener. Invitations were out 
 for a party, and Susan Murray, who was quite a belle at that time, had 
 sent for a pair of white satin slippers, one of which she found she could 
 not wear on account of a troublesome corn. She impatiently exclaimed 
 "if I only had a chisel I would cut the toe off," whereupon "Jim" Ben- 
 jamin, who was standing near and had overheard her, most obligingly 
 procured a chisel for her. She then asked him to strike the chisel with 
 a hammer while she held the instrument. This he refused to do, but 
 offered to hold the chisel while she did the striking act, thinking it only 
 a joke, and, upon carrying out his part of the proposed program was sur- 
 prised to see her strike so vigorous a blow as to sever the toe completely 
 from the foot. 
 
 In the early years there lived here a man whose wife was sadly 
 .addicted to the use of intoxicants, and when indulging in one of her 
 sprees was a source of terror to the neighborhood. One evening a party 
 of young men found her laying on the street sleeping otT the effects of 
 the liquor she had imbibed. They produced a board, on which they 
 bound her tirmly from shoulders to feet, and then carried her over the 
 river to her home, which was situated in what is now known as "Parson's 
 Addition," and there set the board upon end at the side of the door, j 
 will dot give the names of the young men, for some of them still reside 
 here, and are now very dignified elderly, professional and business men 
 and might regard it as not a good example to their sons, as well as taking 
 a great liberty with their names. 
 
 There is a story, too. of one time when a tiumber of tlie older boys 
 went hunting or skating up the river and killed a muskrat v.hereupon 
 someone — my informant thought Noah Hrooks— wrote uj) the affair in 
 startling characters as the murder of an innocent, unoffending citizen of 
 a neighboring settlement, Amos Krat Ijy name, whereat some of the 
 
 — :.{H) — 
 
good fathers, who knew that their sons were of the party (especially 
 Uncle Fred McKinney), were greatly] alarmed lest their boys would be 
 implicated in the direful punishment which was sure to follow. 
 
 Another one rrfers to a time when paper, for some reason, was not to 
 be had for the wcelily issue of the only Dixon paper, and it came out on 
 pink and yellow sheets about the size of a farm sale bill, with the mo:,to 
 "Snuiller by degrees and beautifully less; fret not thy gizzard." 
 
 Andrew J. Bnibakercan be classed among the old settlers, as became 
 here in 1849. He nuide his advent here on foot, having walked from his 
 father's farm on Pine Creek, a distance of ten miles, and carrying his 
 wardrobe in a red bandana handkerchief. When he arrived at Rock 
 River he found the bridge gone. In response to his "hello" Mr. Alexan- 
 der came across the river and rowed him over in a skiff. He and the above 
 mentioned gentlemen were employed at the same time, and for some 
 years in Mr. Brook's store. Upon Mr. Brook's retirement from the gen- 
 eral merchandise business, Mr. Alexander set up in the hardware line, 
 and Mr. Brubaker continued in that branch of the business with which 
 he was most familiar. Of all the business men here in 18.55 only these 
 two gentlemen, with Mr. Eells and Mr. W. J. Carpenter, continue in the 
 business in which ihey were originally engaged. J. C. Ayers, who at that 
 time had a hat at;d cap store, is still in business, butof adifferent nature. 
 The flattering attention with which Mr. Brubaker now waits upon the 
 ladies is due to the; early training whicli he received in Mr. Brook's store, 
 as he thus describes it: "In Mr. Books' store the millinery department 
 was the hardest to learn and get along with. It was no small tax to fix 
 one of those old-fashioned 'prairie schooner' bonnets on a lady, and trim 
 it up with ribbons, flowers and feathers to match, and then tell her that 
 she looked l)eautiful, and that it became her very nicely, but 1 got there 
 after awhile." Mr. Brubaker has always been much interested in music, 
 and has probably sung at more funerals than any other inhabitant of 
 Lee county. He organized the first Methodist choir, and was its leader 
 for a number of years. Up to that time congregational singing had been 
 in vogue, sometimes one pitching the tune, again another; often it would 
 be pitched too high, or very much the reverse; frequently they would get 
 the wrong meter and utter confusion ensue. One old setter used to say, 
 "they first screwed on one tune, and if that did not fir, they would screw 
 on another." Mr. Brubaker had much trouble in persuading the old fogy 
 members and deacons to allow him to organize a choir, but later on they 
 
 — 320 — 
 
conceded that it was a KroaL iiiipruvenient, and showed no desire tu 
 return to the old way. 
 
 In 1851 the tlrst brass band, con)posed of eitjhteen members, was organ- 
 ized, of whom Mr. lJrul)aker and Mr. B. F. Shaw are the only representa- 
 tives remaining at the present day, the others having passed away or 
 gone to "pastures new."' Mr. Shaw played the bugle and was for some 
 time leader of the band. Tiie writer of this is unable to positively assert 
 that the stagnation in the growth of Dixon wasduesolelv to the music (V) 
 thus evolved by Mr. Shaw as bandmaster, but if so, his genial disposition 
 has eventually overcome the terrifying elfects of the bugle blowing of 
 l"ng ago, and timid strangers are now venturing to make Dixon their 
 home, jusL ;is if no awful sounds had once put to flight everythinghuman 
 within hearing. 
 
 I have picked up many good stories jiboiit "Andrew,"' but he says they 
 are not true, and seriously objects to ilicir pul)licatio»>, so I must content 
 myself with the only one to which he "owns ui)." Tallow candles were 
 used in Mr. Brooks' store in addition to lamps, and it was one of Mr. 
 Brubaker's duties to IJght up. On a first of April Henry Webb, who was 
 the instigator of most of the mischief on foot, proposed that Andrew be 
 "April-fooled, and invited all the boys to come and see the fun. Fine 
 imitations of candles were made out of potatoes and placed in the candle- 
 sticks. Evening came, and with it a goodly crowd of the boys, and not 
 long after their eyes were gladdened Ijy the ineffectual attempts of our 
 friend to light first one candle and then another. At each failure the 
 unrighteous laughed, and he, becoming flustered, finally exclaimed, "My 
 goodness, 1 can't make these candles light." Roars of laughter and 
 shoiits of "April fool" sounded on all sides, Andrew says he took the 
 .i(tke well and only remarked good naturedly, "Well, boys, that is all 
 riglit, but you can't play that trick on me again." 
 
 One incident which occurred in those early years I think worthy of 
 relating, concerning a shoemaker by the name of Daniel Cuppernell. He 
 was an extremely profane man, and one day while he and a companion 
 were at work at their trade in the basement of a house which stood on 
 the south side of Main street, near the corner of Peoria, a heavy thunder- 
 storm camp up. The flashes of lightning were so vivid, and the roll of 
 "Heaven's artillery" so incessant that the other man expressed some fear. 
 Cuppernell, with a terrible oath, said, "Let God Almighty do his worst. 
 I'm not afraid of him." No sooner were the words uttered than a bolt of 
 
 — 321 — 
 
liKhtning cariio down the chimney, killiiijj; him inslaiiLly. while his cuiii- 
 paniuu escaped unhurt. 
 
 INIrs. James A. Watson (Susan Clute), was quite noted for her beauty 
 as a girl, and at one time was the acknowledged belle of Dixon. She was 
 very public-spirited also, and it is said that she, together with some 
 other young ladies (probably more for sport than aught else), accom- 
 plished some quite successful campaigning for William Henry Harrison 
 in 1840. 
 
 One utM'sori well known to all is Adam Srhecr. His father rauie to 
 Dixon in 1S4.') with his family. They were not long from (^.ermaiiy and 
 could speak l)ut a few words in English. Two weeks after their arrival 
 here Mr. Scheer died. At that time they were living on a farm known 
 as the Warn place, west of town. The family had a great deal of sick- 
 ness the first year or two, and one summer when Mrs. Scheer was sick 
 with a fever, a neighbor going there to offer assistance, found little 
 Adam his nu)ther's nurse, and she, poor soul, in a burning fever was 
 carefully covered by a feather bed, as well as laying upon one, according 
 to the Gernum custom. The lady liad this removed and by whatever 
 means were at hand, soon managed to have her more comfortalde. When 
 Adam was eleven years old he went to live with INlr. and Mrs. J. T. 
 Little. After they moved out on their farm he worked there during 
 the sumuuir, but in the winter he would come to town and work for his 
 board and attend school, that he might receive the benefit of the better 
 educational advantages atfordcd liere. In bS4i» his two elder brothers 
 went to California, leaving Adam his mother's stay and support until her 
 death, which occurred during the cholera epidemic in 1S.")4. Adam was 
 sonjewhat superstitit)us and of a timid disposition in liis yo\ing days. 
 The writer hereof knew of his great fear of ghosts and when a small 
 child succeeded in giving him a fright which he remembers to this day. 
 She arose in the very early aiorniiig t»efore it was fairly light and hid 
 herself at the back of the woodj)ile, where she knew he would soon come 
 for wood for the kitchen lire. When he had filled his anus, she sprang 
 out, flapping her nightdress wildly. Adam gave a shriek, threw tlie 
 wood down and made good use of his heels until safe shelter of the 
 kitchen was reached. Til never tell whiit happened to the little girl but 
 simply say that fntm that time on she never tried to frigViten Adam. 
 
 All who know him know how faithful he is to every trust reposed in 
 him. lie is an efficient worker in the Baptist church, and on Tkremorial 
 
 — 322 — 
 
clay what would we do without Aduni":' lie is never absent from his post 
 of duty and having served in tlie army, his heart and soul are in the wori<. 
 
 As in all newly settled countries, the beaux were so much more num- 
 erous here that every girl within twenty miles was in great demand 
 when a dance was to be given. There was one family in the "Kingdom" 
 where there were two or three daughters, but owing to the violent tem- 
 per and stinging tongue of their mother, the young men were extremely 
 shy of bringing upon their heads the wrath and .sound berating of the 
 matron, which ir'.variably followed tlKsir appearance upon the scene, so 
 they were wont to draw cuts to decide whicli would l)e the victim, the 
 sliortest straw being the herald of doom. He who was so unfortunate as 
 to have drawn it would take, his life in h\< hatid and heavy of lieart pro- 
 ceed on. his way to invite the young lady. 
 
 The Tallniadges were well known here in the early days, having come 
 in IS.'i"). lie wa- a venerablt>-lookitig old man with snr»w-white hair and 
 beard, but very much disfigured l)y a hare-lip. He usually wore black 
 clothes, the coat (like •'ok! Grimes"" of nursery lore) ■•all buttoned up be- 
 fore," and a high silk hat. A small child, seeing him pass tlie house one 
 day, called: ''Oh! mother, come quick, tliere goes our Heavenly Father." 
 Mrs. Tallmadge was n)uch younger tlian her husliand, and in many ways 
 an excellent woman, lait possessed of many fancied ailments from which 
 slie was alwavs sure she was going to die and sending for the doctor in 
 hot haste without the least necessity. "Tell it not in Gath," but I have 
 heard it whispered that Dr. Everett kept an excellent (luality of bread 
 pills on hand for patients of that description which always proved so 
 etticacious that a speedy cure was sure to follow. 
 
 Mrs. John Hrown, then a girl, was at Mrs. Tallmadge"s and one evening 
 
 was taken very sick and the doctor was sent for l»ut failed to put in an 
 appearance. A still niore imperative summons just as day was dawning 
 Itrought him— about ten o'clock. Mrs. Tallmadge met him at the door, 
 fairly '.,(jmbarding him with reproaches, and wound up by saying: "Why 
 Dr. Everett, you ought to be ashamed of yourself: you have a wr»/ sick 
 patient in there (indicating the bedroom), I can tell you.'" Regarding 
 her witli some amazement, the doctor replied in his deliberate manner: 
 "Why, Mrs. Tallmadge, I thought it was //ou ami I knew there was no 
 burrv.'' 
 
 There is another story of a man wlio was not always strictly honest. 
 lie went into Mr. B.ooks" store (so my informant said) one day, and think" 
 
 — 323 — 
 
iny himself uiK)l)scrvcd, cunflsciiLed some butter, which, like '•Handy 
 Andy,'" he placed in his hat. A clerk, who had witnessed the act. spoke 
 to some others who were in the store, asking their aid in carrying out a 
 plan for the culprit's undoing: so as Mr. S. came forward with most inno- 
 cent mein, they gathered about him talking and laughiiig, and finally 
 hemmed him into a corner near the stove. Someone complained of feel- 
 ing very cold and the wood was thrown on the fire with no sparing hand, 
 so that soon the room became very warm and poor Mr. S. was in the 
 warmest place, in fact, almost "too hot to hold hini."' What is that 
 stealing slowly down his cheeks, trickling down his nose, bedewing his 
 forehead and matting his hair'-' Butter! yes, butter— rii-ers of butter. 
 Surely "the way of the transgressor is hard." 
 
 One time when work was in progress upon the Illinois Central rail- 
 road, Dixon was threatened with a serious riot. One or two of the gang 
 of workmen had been arrested and placed in jail, whereat their comrades 
 were very much incensed and thev struck work, marched in a body to the 
 town threatening to burn it. Tli is catastrophe was averted by Prophet 
 Myres, who missed no opportunity for making a speech, and as they came 
 in line across the bridge, he beheld an audience ready at hand, such as it 
 was rarely his good tortune to meet. Mounting a dry goods box on the 
 corner opposite Mrs. Baker's present home, he began a characteristic 
 harangue, and soon had the mob in such a good humor that they entirely 
 forgot their errand of vengeance and when he w.is through (luietly dis- 
 I)erse(i, much to the relief (if the citizens, who fearing the worst, had 
 armed themselves to defend their homes. 
 
 I have been told the story of how one fearless woman saved her home 
 from claim jumpers. Otis Loveland came here in 18;J7 and took up the 
 claim since known as the Loveland farm, and with hiswifeand twoyoung 
 children lived in a small house where the milk factory now stands. In 
 those days there was the same lawless element here that we read of in 
 the west, peculiar to all newly settled countries, and claim-jumping was 
 not by any means an unheard-of occurrence. One day when Mr. Loveland 
 was away from home three or four men armed tlieiuselves intending t<) 
 jump the claim, anticipating no opposition. Mrs. Loveland saw them at 
 a little distance, and having been informed of their intentions, deter- 
 mined to thwart their plans. She placed a rocking chair across the open 
 door and taking her knitting in her liaiul, calmly seated herself to await 
 their coming. When they reached the house tiiey told her to move oi,t 
 
 — [i'li — 
 
t)f the Way, for they wanted that claim and wei-e going to haVe It, toO. 
 She replied: "You shall not step one foot inside this house unless you 
 tlrst pass over my dead body." 1 suppose they did not ([uite care to kill 
 her, for they flnallv departed, swearing as they went. This lady was the 
 step-mother of Mrs. J. B. Brooks. 
 
 When Mrs. Brouks (then Ophelia Lovelandj taught school in the 
 "Bend"' she received the enormous salary of one dollar and a quarter per 
 week and "boarded around." This was not a very great hardship as the 
 people, in most instances, were pleasant and kind, but there were two or 
 three exceptions where the housewives were poor cooks and their houses 
 none too cleanly. One place the children bragged of wluit good things 
 they were going to have to eat when the teacher came thereto board. 
 The "good things" resolved themselves into dried apple and peach pies, 
 wliich were made without first slewing the fruit. If not quite to the 
 taste made in this way, they may have proved fiUing, particularly witli 
 Jhdd accompaniment. 
 
 Another place the teacher was awakened at break of day and sewing 
 laid out for her until school time, and as soon as she returned she was set 
 at work again until bedtime. At the end of the week this thrifty matron 
 returned no thanks, but only expressed regret that Mrs. Brooks "could 
 not stay long enough to make Susanna a dress." A child inttiissame 
 family died while Mrs. Brooks was teaching in the neighborhood, and 
 the balance of the children were put into deep mourning, consisting of 
 ])lack calico ruffles worn around each child's neck. 
 
 Mrs. Brooks saved enough money from her school teachiuK' to buy a 
 (luarter section of land in Wisconsin, which she afterward sold for four 
 hundred dollars to assist her husband in buying their home on Galena 
 street, where Mr. Tillson's store now is, reserving, however, the price of 
 a half-dozen silver spoons whicli she "was bound to have." She was a 
 kind-hearted, hospitable woman, never so happy as when entertaining 
 her friends. One time during tlie early days of the war her sister, Mrs. 
 Rudd (well-known to many old settlers), was visiting her and Mrs. Brooks 
 gave a tea party in her honor. Mrs. lludd was a very strong abolitionist, 
 in fact, kept a station on the undereround railway in the southern part 
 of the state. Some of the guests at the party were what was termed 
 "copperheads" in those days. Mrs. Rudd was an extremely outspoken 
 woman and not prone to "hide her light under a bushel," or her opinions 
 either. A very heated discussion arose and for a time it appeared as if 
 Ijloodshed was imminent. Mrs. Brooks, wlio had left the iot)m to attend 
 to her tea arrangements, was very much amazed and disconcerted a little 
 
 — WZ'i — 
 
later when two ladies, who had taken uinbraj^e at Mrs. Rudd's remarks, 
 came with their wraps on to liid her good bye. Her dismayed query, 
 "Why! yon are not going without yoUr supl er?" brought forth an explan- 
 ation, and thnjugh her intervention peace was patched up. harmony 
 restored, and they did not go home without their supper. 
 
 We have been told that there were no rats in Dixon for a number of 
 years, and that tlie first that was seen here came in a load of goods be- 
 longing tea Baptist minister which Mr. Little moved from LalSIoille and 
 as the goods were being unpacked a rat jumped from the wagon. That 
 there was no lack of them later will be illnsti'ated by a little story which 
 at least, has the virtue of being true. It was told us that once when a 
 guest of the Dixon house was leaving, after having seated himself in the 
 stage with several others, he shouted to Henry McKenuey that there was 
 something that he wanted attended to before he came this way again. 
 Mr. McKennev, all smiles and anxiety to please, as became a good land- 
 lord, wanted to know what he could do for him. "Why," said he, "1 
 want you to teach those rats of yours to hold up their tails when they run 
 over a man's face." 
 
 John Brown came to Dixon in 18;5(), with no intention of locating, but 
 here he remained until the day of his death, a most worthy citizen. In 
 LS40 he married Eliza Cotton, who had como from Canada the year before 
 with two Quaker families, the latter returning from "whence they came" 
 not long afterward. As soon as they were married they went to live on 
 the farm now well-known as the McRoberts place. There were no neigh- 
 bors near at first and when Mrs. Brown saw a storm coming up she would 
 hasten to town; but later, when she had one baby to carry, and then two, 
 it became quite an undertaking, for three little daughters came to them 
 during the three ye£.rs they lived upon the farm. They then moved to 
 town and occupied the Chapman house near Dr, Paine's present home, 
 Mrs. Brown is rich in reminiscence and I would that I might write more 
 that she has told me, but "the day of reckoning is at hand" and 1 must 
 confine myself to a few items. Mr. Brown had been an employe of Seth 
 Thomas in his clock factory before coming west, and in 1843 he sent for 
 some clocks, with which he supplied many of the homes in Dixon. One 
 of those self-same clocks is ticking away as merrily in oui- dining-room as 
 it did fifty pears ago when my father Qrst bought it, and Mrs. E. C. Smith 
 has another. 
 
 Soon after they moved from the farm Mrs. Brown hnd a very severe 
 
 — :VH) — 
 
illness of three months (hirution, and she was forced to rel}' upon her 
 neighbors for the care which she in turn liad given them. No pen can 
 picture the kindness and devotion of one to another in those early years: 
 sacrifices were made every day (luite as a matter of course, which at the 
 present time would l)e regarded as immense. Ore's personal comfort or 
 convenience was never considered if there were sick to be cared for. High 
 or low, rich or poor, each received the same attention. Mrs. James Hatch 
 is spoken of as one of the best (tf women, and I should think deservedly, 
 for when Mrs. lirovvn was so long ill she weaned her own more healthy 
 baby that slie might give nourishment to the veiy delicate babe of her 
 sick neighbor. 
 
 Another who was never weary of well-doing was Aunt Rhoda McKen- 
 ney, the wife of Uncle Peter, of whom she was the exact opposite in al- 
 most every respect, even to size, as he was a little lean man, while she 
 was a large and exceedingly fleshy woman. When her time came to die 
 she was surrounded by the loving hands of those unto whom she had 
 ministered. At this time Uncle Peter was inconsolable, crying as if his 
 heart would break, he turned to one who was there and said, amid his 
 sobs, "Is it posssible she is going otT with all that fat on herV" 
 
 Mrs. Brown, too, was ever ready to go where she was needed, and 
 msny asick person received her tender care. One time, when she was 
 with a very poor woman, she was obliged to wash the new arrival in an 
 ordinary ijuart l.'owl, and later, as there were no other dishes in tlie 
 house except plates, furnish the woman with gruel from the same bowl. 
 So it was that these people who liave lived out their lives among us wen^ 
 about doing good. ]Mr. lirovvn died in 1S78 but his wife still lives to bless 
 h(>r children witli her presence and does not look the seventy-six years 
 which she has numbered. 
 
 There are one or two funny stories in which James A'anArnam figures. 
 One time when Jim was going to Chicago that ])rince of jokers, Perse 
 Cheney, telegraphed a description of liim to tlie police and nolifled them 
 to arrest him as soon as the train reached the city. This was done and 
 Jim was held in "durance vile"' until an order for his release came vvitli 
 the assurance that no one vvoiUd appear against him. Jim determined 
 that lie would unearth the perpetrator of the joke which h;id been playerl 
 so i^uccessfully upon him and soon traced it to Mr. Cheney. Not long 
 after these two were taking a drive in the country and came to Mrs. 
 Dana's fine orchard. This matron had the reputation of being a some- 
 what formidable person for trespassers to meet and it was well-known 
 
 — :]27 — 
 
fact that she was the owner of some still more formidable dogs. The 
 "forbidden fruit" loolvcd very tempting and Jim suggested that Mr. 
 Cheney go in and gather some apples while he would go on to the house 
 and engage the old laciy in conversation. This was readily agreed to by 
 liis unsuspecting companion, and Jim went on his way rejoicing. The 
 manner in which he engaged the lady in converse was to tell ber that 
 there was a fellow down in the orchard stealing her apples and advising 
 her to let the dogs loose. When Mr. Cheney heard them comintr be took 
 to a tree and there he remained, "forgotten of the world"' but not by tbe 
 quadrupeds (unfortunately), for nearly two hours, tlien the dr)gs were 
 called off and he, being permitted to descend, was obliged to own tliat 
 for once in his life he had been "paid back in bis own coin." 
 
 It will be remembered that Jim was— well, yes— cross-eyed. One time 
 when he was about to butcher a beef with an ax the man who was liold- 
 ing its head inquired with some trepidation if he was going to hit where 
 he was aiming or where he was looking, "cause, if it was where he was 
 looking, be wanted to get out of the way." 
 
 Jim was marshal at the time that Mr. J. C. Ayres was city clerk, and 
 he was in the habit of coming up into that gentleman's office when he 
 had any writing to do. One day when Mr. Ayres was engaged in making 
 out some pension papers for an old lady who was waiting in the office, Jim 
 came in as usual and asked for pen and paper and seated himself at the 
 opposite side of the desk to write a letter. His contortions and facial 
 expressions while undergoing this ordeal can better be illustrated by pan- 
 tomine than described, so I shall not attempt it. After laboring pain- 
 fully, for some minutes Jim looked up at Mr. Ayres and asked "how do 
 you spell anxiousV" Tlie old lady, some little distance off to one side, 
 and on whom Jim's "weather eye" was tixed in wild interrogation, 
 straightened herself up, began to hem and haw, and at last blurted out 
 "ank-no-anck-no, no-anc(iu-no, that/s not it. Well (with a deep sigli), 
 I'll give it up! I used to be a l)eautiful spoiler, but 1 can't spell worth a 
 cent since I lost my teeth.'" 
 
 Isaac Means came here in 1845, followed three years later by the other 
 members of the family. They lived on a farm two miles east of town on 
 the Franklin Grove road. Mrs. Jane Little, a daughter of ihe family, 
 resided at that time in the house now occupied by George McBride-on 
 Ottawa avenue. She was well-known here, always jolly and laughing, 
 the life of every gathering. She vvas the only woman (so far as I have 
 heard) ever admitted to tbe rites of Masonry, and this honor she obtained 
 
 — :52S — 
 
by that propensity of our Mother Eye, which is said to have been trah^- 
 mitted to all her descendants in the female line, viz., curiusity, but the 
 story is too long to tell now. She had a family of four boys and many a 
 struggle had she to rear them until they were able to do for themselves. 
 She, too, has passed into the "beyond" with'^o many others of those early 
 years. 
 
 Mr. Means died in 1S78 at the age of ninety-live years. His wife sur- 
 vived him until 1881. There were four old ladies who were often invited 
 to tea at one or other of their daughters, and they were dubbed the 
 "Irish Convention" by some of the irrcvolent young members of their 
 families. They would assemble soon after dinner so as to have a long 
 •ifternoon's visit, knitting in hand. They could certainly do more real 
 genuine visiting "to the square yard" than any others I have ever seen. 
 They were Mrs. Means, noble-looking, with deep-toned voice, Mrs. Law, 
 placid of countenance, straight and dignified, Mrs. Richards, with sweet 
 laughing face and loving manner, Mrs. Mulligan, the youngest of the 
 party, with high sweet voice and look of supreme contentment. Memory 
 brings their dear faces so plainly before me that 1 can scarcely believe 
 that 1 shall never again behold them in the flesh, and as I write 1 can 
 e'en hear the hum of their happy voices which have been stilled in death 
 these many years. 
 
 A few years after the Means came here a very sad accident occurred 
 in their home. During a severe thunder storm in the early morning 
 their daughter Charlotte, a beautiful girl who was soon to have been 
 married, was struck by lightning and instantly killed. Her mother in 
 the room beneath also received a severe shock. 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell, the only remaining member of the family here, was 
 married in a striped calico dress. There had been one or two quite styl- 
 ish weddings here a little before and Mr. Maxwell made up his mind 
 that there should be no "high jinks" when they were married, so it took 
 place just as he had planned it. 1 will add, however, that they gave a 
 very swell supper to their friends an evening or two later. Mrs. Maxwell 
 has reared a family of whom any mother might feel proud, and the years 
 have dealt so gently with her that her hair is only sprinkled with gray. 
 
 One time there was an Irish family living in the basement of Jim 
 YanArnam's old stone house who would neither pay their rent or vacate 
 the premises and Jim determined to take matters into his own hands. 
 Some masons had been at work in the upper story and had left a heavy 
 timber there, and one night he went to the house, took off his boots and 
 
 — :{2i) — 
 
crept uu stairs, laid hoiil of the tiiuljer, raised it and let it drt)p with a 
 tremendous tliud Just over the heads of his sleepiui^ victims, then made 
 his escape undetected. A day or two later the woruan came to Mr. 
 Ayres (to whom .lim had unfolded his plan) for the purpose of borrowinjf 
 some money with which to build a shanty. Mr. Ayres remarked that he 
 had supposed that she was well fixed where she was. She then bCKan 
 tellinjj him of the fearful noises they had heard there in the dead of 
 niglit, guns going oil and dreadful pounding and not a soul about the 
 place, and no one could convince her that a horrible murder luid not 
 sometime been comiiiitted there and for all the world, in that house 
 they would not stay. So Jim got rid of his tenant. 
 
 The best part is still to come. Mr. Ayres owned the old "Dixon Gar- 
 dens"' east of town and was greatly annoyed by the young Hibernians of 
 the neighborhood, who continually kept breaking into the house smasli- 
 ing the windows and destroying all that was destroyable. Jim's success- 
 ful campaign flashed into his mind and he resolved to emulate his noble 
 example. He got a dark lantern and late in the evening would let him- 
 self into the liouse, turn on the light and Hash it about. To make mat- 
 ters still more sure, he asked an old Irislimati in tlie neighborhood, who 
 was in his office one day, if he had noticed anything strange about the 
 house. He had not, and Mr. Ayres, swearing him to secrecy, told him 
 all he had heard that the old man (who had formerly lived there and 
 died) ^'walked." Of course the startled old man told every one he met 
 (as it was intended he should) the fearful story, and sure enough, that 
 same night a strange, uncanny light was seen Hashing here, there and 
 everywliere through the old house. From that time the boys never 
 troubled the house but took trouble to give it a wide berth. Not long 
 after Mr. Ayres had an opportunit^y of selling the place and was congrat- 
 ulating himself on his good fortune, but before the transaction was quite 
 completed, the man had heard the grewsonie tale and would have none 
 of it, although the liero of the exploit even humbled himself to confess 
 to him the boyish pranks which he had been playing. It was all in vain, 
 and Mr. Ayres lost the sale of the place and since has not yearned to 
 follow Jim VanArnam's example in any way. 
 
 As I read over this payier which I have written, somewhat unwillingly 
 it strikes me that it is a little (in parts) after tlie manner of ''Peck's 
 Bad Roy," or the "Danbury News" and I shall censure no one sliould the 
 l)ook be laid aside after a perusal of one or two of my stories. I have 
 garnered them from tlie memory of various old settlers and they are well 
 authenticated, yet I tremble at my boldness in presenting them to you, 
 all unaccustomed as I am to writing, but "as ye are strong, be ye also 
 merciful.'" Gkace E. Johnson. 
 
S0T2Qe Bexrf^ floiT^eo, (sf Dixoi^. 
 
 VERY late in the course of our preptiration of material for this little 
 book we were deeply pained to learn that the hand of death had 
 been laid upon one of our most gifted contrilnitors — well-known 
 and loved in Dixon -Mrs. S. A. Rethea. To her had be'en assigned the 
 pleasant task of preparing a chapter upon the pioneers of Dixon— but 
 the story was unwritten, for death came too soon. To those who have 
 been associated in this work there will always be a missing "number" in 
 the promised programme, a vacant chair at our table. To all who read, 
 there will be a missing chord in the harmony. Efforts to fill this blank 
 have resulted in various shorter papers which will be read witii interest, 
 we trust, but at the eleventh hour it has fallen upon unworthy me to en- 
 deavor to picture to the friends of today some of the early homes of 
 Dixon and their occupants. Roth time and opportunity for gathering 
 material for such a sketch have been inadequate, and no one can regret 
 more than juyself that hearty desire and deep interestcaunoi V)oo(iua]If'd 
 in results. 
 
 Many will discover (as Mr. Sabin Trobridge used to say in his S. S. 
 prajers) "sins of o-mission and sins of com-mission," l)ut they are not 
 ?r<7//«Z sins, and 1 trust they will he forgiven — and that tliose who see 
 them will not fail to remember that they are all partakers thereof, since 
 all have been asked, again and again to "lend a hand in the gathering 
 of these "liecollections" and far too few have responded. All honor t 
 the "few!" 
 
 I begin with the first home in the town— Father Dixon's log cabin, so 
 often referred to in tlicse pages which stood partly in J. M. Cropsey's lut, 
 partly in Peoria street. It was a large "double cabin," the space between 
 the two cabins (about twelve feet.) being enclosed and used as a dining- 
 room in mild weather. Here Father Dixon lived for se.veral years, but 
 in 1837 he was living on the Cyrus Williams farm, in what is now "High- 
 land Park" near where the homestead of the Williams family stood— the 
 present site of Robert Fargo's house. 
 
 — -.VM — 
 
After a short time he went to the farm, now known as the Dr. tiveretfc 
 tanii, where they lived until Mrs. Dixon j^revv too feeble to be alone; then 
 they came to the hf)nie of his son James, in the small brick hoaseoppo.site 
 the Demetit place, where in 1847 "Mother Dixon" dieol. The old cabin 
 was a^niin used as a dwelling house at one time and was occupied by the 
 Lovcland family. Here Emmeline Loveland was married to Smith Gil- 
 l)raith, one of the original stockholders of the town, and one of its most 
 promising business men Father Dixon's cabin was also used as a hotel, 
 as a store, and was finally called the "Buzzard's Roost"— in 1S40. I have 
 not been able to learn its fate, but the probability seems to be that it 
 was used as a part of Cropsey's blacksmith shop for a time, and then torn 
 down. 
 
 .James P. Dixon had a log house on Main street, and in a "lean-to" 
 was the P. O (when it wasn't in Father Dixon's hat). Jude W. Hamilton 
 had a little frame house near, which after several removals stood for a 
 long time just east of the express office and was pulled down in 1870. 
 This was the first frame house in the town, and was, probably, built by 
 J(»hn K. Kobison, and one of the sons of Father Dixon. John W. Dixon 
 built the house on Ottawa street known as the Gilbraith house, lately 
 occupied liy Mr. Ingraham, l)ut sold it to Mr. fJilbraith as soon as it was 
 (lone, and built for himself the one next it, now owned by George Mc- 
 Ilrido. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Elijah Kellogg with their little girl, now Mrs. E. 15. 
 Baker, Vi'cnt to New York on a visit in 18.37, and on their return brought 
 with them their neice, Elizabeth Sherwood, a young lady of eighteen, to 
 spend a year with them and her aunt, Mrs. Dixon. Wo must believe the 
 year, or the visit, a very long one, for the lady is still here. She was 
 married in IS.'U) to John W. Dixon, at the home of her aunt at Kellogg's 
 Grove, l)y the llev. James Del^ui. They went first to the home of Father 
 Dixon, on Dr. Everett's farm, but came to the McBride house within a 
 year. After Mrs. Dixon's death they lived for many years in the house 
 which Mr. Bovey used, until lately, lor an oflice at his lumber yard, on 
 Water street. As Mother Dixon died only six weeks before Mr. John W. 
 Dixon, the double bereavement drew Father Dixon to his widowed 
 (lai!ghter-iu-law, and he made his home with her ever after. In the early 
 '.')()"s they came to live in North Dixon, on N. Jeflfer&on avenue where 
 Father Dixon died in 187(), and where Mrs. Dixon still lives with her son 
 and daughter. 
 
 Elijah Dixon, Father Dixon's third son, never had a home here. He 
 went when a young man to establish a stage route between Janesville 
 
 — 332 — 
 
and Milwaukee, in company v. ilh llicliard Luvciuiid. ^'ut kjng alter this 
 was accomplished he was seized with pneumonia and died at Janesville. 
 
 Father Dixon's fourth son, Franklin, died at the early age of sixteen" 
 His memory is enshrined in the name of the preitty "Franklin Creek," 
 which in turn gave the name to Franklin Grove. We learn that Father 
 Dixon found the pretty stream when hunting one day, and not long after 
 proposed to a party of relatives to go with bim to see it. They were 
 irreatly pleased with the country and the creek, and when asked for a 
 name Mrs. Kellogg said it "should be named for Frank." 
 
 Mrs. Dixon also lost two children, at Galena, whither she fled for 
 safety during the Blackhawk war, and a beautiful daughter of three and 
 a half years died of scarlet fever at Dr. Everett's farm, when there had 
 been no other case heard of for many months. She was the pet and pride 
 of the household, and her deatli was a sad blow to the family. The 
 ice was going out of the river, and the water so high that the little 
 coffin was carried at great risk in a skiff across the river to ti'c cemetery, 
 unattended except by those who rOwed the boat. Tliis was uhe youngest 
 child, but of the large family only two, I believe, survived the mother, 
 and not one was left to mourn the father's death. 
 
 Two stories so characteristic of Father and Motlier Dixon have recent" 
 ly been told me that i give theni here. The first is of a local historian 
 who was "writing up" the Ulackhawk war. He read some paragraphs to 
 Father Dixon, which were more high sounding than eicact, and quickly 
 roused Father Dixon's spirit. He corrected the statement carefully, as 
 suring the writer that "history should be exact, rather than pleasing, 
 and he would not for one moment allow any such misleading Inference to 
 appear in print." But the young writer was so proud of his periods that 
 in due time it came out in a local paper. The next time he met Father 
 Dixon the old gentleman said <iuietly: "1 see you did not make that 
 correction; you can now take your choice: correct it yourself in the next 
 issue of the paper, as much to your own credit as you can, or I shall do so, 
 and if 1 make the correction it will be in no measured terms." It is 
 needless to add that tlie correction was made without delay. 
 
 It is also said that Mother Dixon at one time entertained three min- 
 isters who did not disclose their calling until they were on the eve of 
 departure — for which she severely reproved them— thus showing that a 
 woman who could preside with such digriiti' when entertaining Indian 
 chiefs, as to call forth their admiration, could also reprove unhesitating- 
 ly when she felt rebuke was merited. The ministers acknowledged the 
 justice of her reprnof, and promised never to do the like again. 
 
 — 333 — 
 
The little house next the one where Mrs. John W. Dixon lived so long 
 (on River street) was occupied for a time by A. T. Marphy, one of the 
 early settlers of the town. Here also lived for many years tlie old ferry- 
 man, John Neimeyer, bnt in time it becaaie the famous, or infamous 
 ''hole in the wall" where there was so much drinking. After serving a 
 better purpose (as a store room for Lorenzo Wood's woolen goods) it was 
 at last pulled down. 
 
 We turn from the story of Father Dixon's family to that of their dear 
 friends, Mr. and Mrs. J. T. Little. Mr. Little was one of the flrst mer- 
 chants in Dixon, and with his amiable wife has been associated with the 
 interests of the town for over fifty years. 
 
 iSIr. Little was induced to leave his native place (Castine, Maine) 
 tlirough correspondence with a very dear friend, Joseph A. Wallace (a 
 brother of Gen. Wm. Wallace), who came to Ogle county and was em- 
 ployed as a clerk in the store of J. B. Crist in "Oregon City." 
 
 Mr. Wallace wrote such glowing letters about the west, and particular- 
 ly of the Rock river country, that he infected Mr. Little with the western 
 fever, and in 1839 we find him writing to eastern friends in terms equally 
 enthusiastic from "Oregon City." We (luote from a letter addressed by 
 him to S. K. Upham, in Castine: "Dixon, or Dixonville (as it is also 
 called), is a larger place than this, and is a central point. The great 
 Central R. R. through this state passes through (or will pass through) 
 Dixon. It has been in progress at that place, but work is now abandoned 
 for want of funds; will be continued next summer [1839). There is but 
 store there now, of any consequence, and very poor goods. If we get our 
 goods there in any season we shall do well. Our store room is the best in 
 this section of the country, and 1 think it a much better place to sell 
 goods than Oregon City. There never was a prettier place for a 1 own, 
 and within two years it will be almost a paradise." Mr. Little also says 
 that he shall never forget the beautiful vision of his first glimpse of 
 Dixon as he came down the river in the stage with Leonard Andrus from 
 Grand Detour. He was also delighted to see what he felt sure was a 
 church steeple on the river bank, He had heard Dixon called a "hard 
 place," but here was evidence of another sort, he was sure. AlasI for the 
 truth! What he supposed was a church steeple was the chimney of tne 
 old distillery on Water street, and the revulsion of feeling may be better 
 imagined than described. 
 
 In December, 1839, a Mr. John M. Fish, of Alton, and J. R. Crist, of 
 Oregon, formed a partnership for tbe transaction of the mercantile busi- 
 ness at Dixon. Mr. Fish went to Alton to purchase dry goods, groceries* 
 
 — 334 — 
 
arid such other articles as then niade up the stock of a western variety 
 store. These were shipped up the Mississippi river and were to be landed 
 at Savanna, but the weather became so intensely cold that the liver 
 froze over and the steamer could no no farther north than Tully, Mo. 
 Here the goods were landed and the steamer returned to Alton. 
 
 Tlie boundary war between Iowa and Missouri was in projjress, and 
 the Missouri troops being in need of sucn articles broke into the ware- 
 house and took possession of the goods. Mr. Fish and Mr. Little had 
 bought the goods wliich Mr. Crist added to the stock of the firm, and had 
 sent them from Oregon to Dixon— taking into their partnership S. G. D. 
 Howard — and assuming the firm name of Fish, Little and Co. Hearing 
 of the seizure of their goods Mr. Fish went at once to Tully and replev- 
 ined them, taking them back into the country about forty miles to Sand 
 Hill. Not finding any prospect of getting them to Dixon before spring he 
 decided to sell what he could where he was. 
 
 ^lessrs. Little and Howard were, meantime, selling the Oregon goods 
 in the Gilbraith store on the corner of Hennepin and River streets, now 
 occupied as a brewery. 
 
 The ice went out of the river in February, 1840, with a sudden rise of 
 tlie water, which left gieat cake?, twenty inches thick all along the bank, 
 Hooding the cellars and destroying twenty barrels of salt belonging to 
 Saiith Gilbraith in the store just spoken of. Mr. Little, lieing very anx- 
 ious to learn the state of affairs at Sand Hill, purchased a skiff of William 
 Peacock, litted it witli a sail, and accompanied by Isaac Robinson (land- 
 lord of the Rock River house, which stood where Paul Lord's wagon shop 
 IK w is) started down the river. They came upon a gorge ai Como, where 
 the ice was piled four feet high, so they stopped for the night at a farm 
 house. They tied their boat to a tree, carrying their baggage to the 
 house. During the night the ice went out, leaving their boat high and 
 dry, hanging to the tree. The remainder of their trip was very pleasant, 
 and they entered the Mi.ssissippi at Rockingham, which stood directly 
 opposite the mouth of Rock river. At liurlington, Iowa, they sold their 
 boat, Mr. Robinson going on to New Orleans and Mr. Little getting pas- 
 sage by stage, wagon or skiff, as best he could, to Sand Hill. Here he 
 f((iind Mr. Fisli in a little one-story log "store,'" where he had his goods 
 arranged in a sort of sutler's style, and where he was also postmaster. 
 They divided the goods and dissolved their partnership, Mr. Little re- 
 turning to Dixon with his share. His partnership with Mr. Howard con- 
 tinued for some time but ended with Mr. Little assuming the whole 
 business and building a large store on River street, wliich is now a part 
 
 — 333 — 
 
of D. W, McKenney's livery stable. This drew so heavily on his capi- 
 tal thai he closed his business and rented the store to Garrett, Seaman 
 & Co., entering their employ as clerk. Mr. Little says: "It might show 
 some of the young men what it cost in labor and sacrifice to develop a 
 new country, to learn that for the rent of my store, the board of the 
 two clerks, and my own services as clerk I received seven hundred dol- 
 lars a year." 
 
 Some time after this Mr. Little formed a partnership with .1. B. 
 Brooks, of whom he says he was "one of ihe best business men and one 
 of the best men who ever resided in Dixon"— and adds also "It is due to 
 Mr. Brojks that he be brought to the notice of the readers of this his- 
 tory, for no man has ever done more to build up this town than J. B. 
 Brooks— and no man has better represented the industrious, prudent, 
 liberal, faithful, honest business man in this communitv than he." 
 
 "This generation has no id(>a how uiucli it is indebted Lo him tliat 
 Dixon was enabled to pass, witli so little disaster, through the tinancial 
 embarassments of the state ami country." It is the pleasure of many 
 friends to notice that his son. Dr. IL J. I>rooks, inherits the traits of h's 
 father. 
 
 In October 1840 Mr. Little was married to Eleanor Cobb, of Bangor, 
 Me., and the young couple immediately started for their western homo, 
 intending to reach it in time for the groom to cast his Hrst presidential 
 vote for Gen. Wni. Henry Harrison, but the steamer in which they took 
 passage from Buffalo to Chicago encountered a territtic gale off Thunder 
 Bay and was compelled t(j return to Detroit, where her passengers 
 awaited the coming of the next boat a week later. 
 
 Their first fifty miles out of Chicago was made in a four-horse coach, 
 but after being duly "sloughed," the passengers were transferred to at wo- 
 horse lumber wagon, in which Mr. and Mrs. Little rode on a carpenter's 
 tool-che«t. At Oregon they were again placed in a coach and had a more 
 comfortable ride the last part of the journey, through scenery as de- 
 lightful as that romantic route still affords. They went first to the old 
 "Western Hotel," (now ',Huntly House," on Hennepin street,) then 
 kept by Geo. A. Hawley, from liaffalo, 1S\ Y. Mrs. Little's room was 
 directly over ihe bar-room, and heated by the pipe from the bar-room 
 stove; we may inuigine it was far from pleasant, so that she prized the 
 more, the kindness of "Mother Dixon,'' who took the young stranger to 
 her home whenever Mr. L'ttle was absent on business, and by every 
 charm of her warm motherly heart strove to dispel the loneliness which 
 might else have been hard to bear. There were other dear and kind 
 
 — 33U — 
 
friends, too, for says one who lias told us jqucIi of that time: "Dixon in its 
 early settlement was favored with the society of many refined, cultivated 
 families, many devout, active, christian men and women," and another 
 adds: "It seems to me that the porportion of such was larger than it is 
 now." 
 
 It was no doubt lar^rely due to the intluence of "Mother Dixon" that 
 Mr. and Mrs. Little became members of the Baptist church in 1841, in 
 which communion they have been devout and faithful members ever 
 since. Mr. Little says: "All the various religious servi«:es were held in 
 the same old school house at that time, but there were grand sermons, 
 fervent, effectual paryers, and sweet songs of Zion that have echoed in 
 the heart of many an old settler ever since." 
 
 After a time Mr. and Mrs. Little commenced housekeeping in a little 
 house of one quite large room, a bedroom so snuill ihat it was impossible 
 to shut the door witliout getting behind it, a pantry, and a hole beneatli 
 which did duty as a cellar. This house stood on the corner of what is 
 now Galena avenue and Second street, where Mrs. Lewis' milliner's store 
 is. In this small compass they lived and i)oarded the two gentlemen who 
 aided Mr. Little in the store, P. M. Alexander and Mr. Howard, and no 
 one can doubt the testimony of an eye-witness that it was "tidy, home- 
 like, and comfortable." 
 
 Their next home was a part of the large building, comprising both 
 store and house, on Water street, referred to before. Here Mrs. Barge 
 remembers going to seeMrs. Little's first baby and the delight with which 
 such arrivals were always hailed. At this home, too, first entered Dixon 
 society another familiar personage as a member of Mrs. Little's family, 
 whose lasting devotion to them is but one of the many evidences of a 
 noble character— Adam Scliiere; but we leave a "story" of Adam to 
 another pen. 
 
 In 1841, too, Mr. Little entered into an agreement whicli we conj for 
 the benefit of young men v/ho feel that their services are not duly 
 appreciated or remunerated or consider success a conse(iuence of a large 
 salary. It states that "Tlie said Little agrees to pay the said Alexander 
 one hundred dollars in such merchandise as he may want, at twelve and 
 a half per cent advance from cost, and the remainder of the hundred 
 dollars over and above the amount in goods lie may want, the said Little 
 agrees to pay him in good par money. The said Little agrees also to board 
 the said Alexander and pay for his washing. And the said Alexander on 
 the other part agrees to discharge the duties of clerk in the store of said 
 Little, to devote his time to the said Little's interest, and to do all 
 
 — 337 - 
 
that may be required of hiiu by the said Little, which may be reasonable 
 as clerk in his store for one year from the first dav of September, 1841," 
 duly signed by J. T. Little and P. M. Alexander. Of Mr. Little's business 
 connections at a later date we have already written. He spent some 
 years in tlie nursery business when the confinement of a store told upon 
 his health, but is now living in town again. Age has silvered his hair 
 and enfeebled his steps. Mrs. Little's sweet face is touched by the same 
 gentle artist, but tlieir hearts are still warm with atfection for the home 
 of their adoption. Mr. Little says: "I am now an old man, and have 
 seen Dixon become a thriving iiuinufacturing city, with first-class educa- 
 tionol facilities, superior church privileges, and a thriving, energetic 
 population, and though I myself have suffered many reverses of fortune 
 and am, consequently, unable to help pecuniarily in building up the city, 
 I still feel deeply interested in its prosperity and bid it 'God speed' in 
 every laudable enterprise."' 
 
 There was little choice of labor in those days, but there was no aris- 
 tocracy but that of wortli — so "labor and capital" were not the vexed 
 questions they are now. P. M. Alexander worked for Father Dixon sev- 
 eral months when he first came — on his farm. Then became back to 
 town and he and Pilchard Loveland were employed by Mr. Gilbraith to 
 cut timber on the island, which they sold for $1.25 per cord. They also 
 sawed and split some of it for Dr. Everett for fifty cents per cord. 
 
 His business connection with Mr. Little, which was the beginning of 
 his mercantile life and the foundation of his success as a mercliant, was 
 spoken of a few pages back. In 1847 Mr. Alexander brouglit his bride to 
 Dixon — Eliza Howell, a sister of the late G. L. Howell. She is said to 
 have been a very quiet, retiring person, yet a delightful companion to 
 those who were privileged to know her intimately, and a devoted chris- 
 tian. She brought with her the first piano in the town (the one at Haz- 
 elwood being, probably, the only other one then in the country), and we 
 can well imagine that her musical abil'ty was fully appreciated in the 
 little community. She was a woman, too, of rare self-possession and 
 moral courage, as a single instance will show. At one time her husband 
 had been ill for many weeks, his disease baffling Dr. Everett's skill to 
 such an exent that he told the young wife that the remedy he was about 
 to prescribe was his last hope. If that failed there was no chance for her 
 husband's life. Instead of yielding to tears or faintness slie returned to 
 the sick room with such a serene face that her very presence inspired 
 hope and so cheered her husband that his recovery dated from tliat hour. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Alexander spent nearly nine years in Mrs. Brooks' home, 
 
 — 338 — 
 
then built a house on Water street (then the principal street of the town). 
 They lived to enjoy the fruits of their patience and perseverence in their 
 beautiful home in North Dixon for many years, but Mrs. Alexander's life 
 went out with so many others in the terrible "bridge disaster" of 1873. 
 Mr. Alexander is still among us— honored and esteemed. His story is a 
 good lesson to the young men of the present day. 
 
 Judge Heaton, whose name has been referred to several times in these 
 pages, lived early in the "forties" on East First street. His wife was a 
 most amiable woman, and one whose memory the few surviving women 
 of that time cherish with great affection. She was thrown from her 
 carriage and killed at the steps of the old Methodist church (now J. W. 
 Kent's home on Second street), her babe, Mary, being saved and cared 
 for for some time by Mrs. Everett. 
 
 Judge Heaton later married Mrs. Lucinda McComscy, who survived 
 him several years. She was a must motherly, kind-hearted woman, beloved 
 by all her associates and remembered in many a Dixon home for her 
 thoughtful kindnesses and her cordial hospitality. Her home was in the 
 house now occupied by Dr. Garrison, but either at their marriage or soon 
 after Judge and Mrs. Heaton moved to the pretty cottage on Third street 
 so long associated with their names and faces, where they made a happy 
 home for their group of children, and a pleasant assembly point for their 
 young associates. 
 
 The first blacksmith's shop was on Main street, and the first smith 
 lived in a part of the same building. In 1830 he was succeeded in business 
 by Horace Preston, a brother-in-law of Judge Wood, and long a well- 
 known citizen of Dixon. He worked at his trade here for fourteen vears, 
 then went to his farm near town. His daughters are still living here, but 
 he and his gentle wife (a sister of Judge Wood) have joined the great 
 multitude beyond. He built the brick house still standing on Peoria 
 avenue near the corner of Main street where Col. and Mrs. Cyrus Aldrich 
 lived for a time, afterwards in a house near the Main street arch, built 
 and occupied for many years by Judge Wood. The Colonel was in the land 
 office here and widely interested in the sale and settlement of lands aliout 
 Dixon. Mrs. Aldrich was a woman of superior rank, cultivated and re- 
 fined, and one who entertained most delightfully- I well remember the 
 delights of her hospitable home, and the childish awe with which I lis- 
 tened to her conversation with people who were to me almost too great 
 to venture to address in any ordinary manner, chief among them Bayard 
 Taylor. They removed to Minneapolis, where the Colonel died some 
 years ago, and where Mrs, Aldrich is still living. In the house where 
 
 -=- 339 — 
 
they rtrst lived there lived in after years another couple of whom some 
 mention should be made, though they are not strictly ola settlers of 
 Dixon— Mr. and Mrs. W. W. Harsha. They were Illinois pioneers and 
 well-known all through the northwest part of the state. Mr. Ilarsha was 
 the first pastor of the Presbyterian church in Dixon, and with his noble 
 wife, is still remembered and loved by many both in and out of that coru- 
 niutiion. Kis interesting contribution to our book makes this reference 
 an entirely proper one, and their pioneer experiences as missionaries to 
 Northwestern Illinois would add greatly to the interest of our book if 
 Lee county could claim them all. 
 
 Another house long associated with the history of Dixon stood on 
 Galena avenue, near where Mr. .1. 11. Todd's store now is, and was 
 occupied by .J. B. Brooks, and here many of the old settlers boarded for 
 years. 
 
 Otis Eddv lived just above this place, about where the "Hound Corner 
 Block" is now, in a house which was moved to Hennepin street, and 
 owned for manyyears by Hiram S. Mead. Indeed the "residence portion" 
 of the town was clustered about the corner of Main and Galena streets, 
 while the business street was on the river bank. When Mr. O. F. Ayres 
 built the stone store, which has since been replaced by the Schuler block, 
 many thought him very unwise to build so far out of town, and ladies 
 dreaded to walk down across the slough to see Mrs. Heaton because pigs 
 and tieas were so numerous in the warm sand of that ((uarter. 
 
 Judge Wilkeson also lived on Galena street, but further down, quite 
 near the corner of River street. His family are spoken of as evincing 
 refinement, intelligence and culture, as well as more wealth than most 
 pioneers. He was a son of Judge Wilkeson, of Buffalo, a very able man' 
 and one of the original stockholders of the town— five in number. 
 The others were Col. Wight, of Galena, Father Dixon, vSmith Gilbraith 
 and James Boyd, of Princeton. 
 
 It is very greatly to be regretted that the name of the streets in North 
 Dixon, given them in honor or these early and prominent settlers, should 
 have been changed— thus, in time, cH'acing them from the memory of 
 the town. 
 
 Judge Wilkeson built the first saw-mill in the county, at the foot of 
 Peoria street, but it was used for this purpose but a short time, being 
 soon converted into a distillery, the chimney of which so deceived Mr. 
 Little on his approach to the town. 
 
 The first brick business building was put up by James and Horace 
 
 — 340 — 
 
lieojamin in 134(i, just where Ilorton's drug store is now. Tliey built one- 
 half and A. T. Murphy the other. 
 D. B. McKlnney built another soon alter, nearly opposite. 
 
 Nearly opposite the Brooks home, on Galena street, stood a neat and 
 (then) roomy brick ('ottaK<?, the home of E. W. Hine, who was a tailor, 
 but afterward studied law and was for a lon^f time Recorder of Deeds 
 and J. P. Many of us still remember the house, standing in the oncom- 
 ing rush of business blocks, like au estrayed and frightened child in a 
 street parade. Mrs. Iline is spoken of as a very lovely woman. She, with 
 her husband, son and daughter slipped so quietly away to the beyond, 
 that they might have been forgotten by the next generation had they 
 not written their names with such as Rockefeller's and Peabody's as 
 public benefactors. The names are in smaller capitals to our eyes, but 
 to Ilim who "sees not as man seeth'' who can say their gift was less than 
 the largest, since it was their all? They gave their home to St. Luke's 
 church, and a fine business block (occupied by J. 11. Morris & Son) has 
 taken the place -of the old house, bringing a valuable addition to the 
 income of the church. 
 
 There is a record in the county histories totheeffect that an Episcopal 
 church was organized here in 1837, but it seems impossible to add to this 
 any particulars, and dillicult to trace even this to a firm foundation. But 
 from a document yellow with age, entitled "A Record of the Proceedings 
 of St. Peter's Parish in Grand Detour," we learn that on April 8th, 1847, 
 at six o'clock p. m., a meeting was held at the house of S. M. Harris, 
 where forty-four persons, whose names are given, signed an agreement to 
 "associate themselves together under the name of and style of St. 
 Peter's church." And there is no reason to doubt, as an old settler tells 
 us, that the corner stone of the Episcopal church in these parts was the 
 faithful devotion of Mr. and Mrs. House. With their names we find 
 associated those of Paine, Harris, Cotton, Cumins, Bosworth, Pank- 
 hurst, Andine, and others, and they should be honored by some nobler 
 record than these simple lines, yet are they "writ on high." Of those 
 who met on that aiemorable evening only one is still among us; a 
 "mother in Israel" beloved and honored by all the church— Mrs. Laura 
 C. Paine. Some are gone to other homes, some swell the ranks of the 
 Church Triumphant and some alas! have for^'otten their pledge. 
 
 The Rev. James DePui, an Episcopal minister, came to Dixon 1837, 
 and both Father and Mother Dixon were so anxious that some minister 
 should settle here, and became so warmly attached to Mr. DePi:i that 
 they offered him his choice of a lot, if he would stay. 
 
 — 341 — 
 
tie chose to locate in Kofth Dixon, and built a house (now owned by 
 Mr. Kitchen) on tlie block where Mr. Parsons now lives. When the town 
 was laid out, the street line came so near his house and well thai Father 
 Dixon made his block four hundred feet instead of three hundred. The 
 people were evidently much e^ratifled by Mr. DePui's decision, for Mrs. 
 Dixon says the first donation party ever given in the county was made 
 for him soon after he moved into the house, before it was entirely com- 
 pleted. Mrs. Dixon, then Miss Sherwood, and her future sister-in-law, 
 Mary Dixon, came over to stay all day, and help Mrs. DePui with the 
 dinner. The people came from far and near, through the whole day. 
 bringing with them gifts of such as tliey had, all cheerfully given and 
 all acceptable. 
 
 There was so many hams that Mr. DePui's little son, who saw them 
 hanging in the unfinished chamber, was utterly dismayed, and told his 
 mother they "would haye to eat ham all the rest of their lives." After all 
 had departed and the family were preparing for the night, a loud rap 
 sounded on the back door; on opening it they found the last donation, 
 but no sign of the donor. It was a wash tub, wash board and broom. 
 
 Farther down on Main street was a house where lived one of the best 
 of the "Old Settlers" — one who has robed for the first and the last time, 
 more of our fellow-citizens than any other one person — Aunt Sally Her- 
 rick. She persistently refuses to be made the heroine of any "story" — 
 but "her works do follow her," and she will be lovingly remembered as 
 long as Dixon has a history. She went among the sick and afflicted, 
 dressing a child here, making a bed for a weary sufferer in another place, 
 carrying gruel and broth to those who had poor appetite (or little to sat- 
 isfy it), calling the attention of the well-to-do to the needs of the poorer, 
 and all so quietly that it was as if it had been done by some unseen hand. 
 Not infrequently she stood by the sick bed while Dr. Everett went out to 
 get suitable bedding to make a comfortable place for a sufferer, and then 
 leaving him she would go home, or elsewhere, for fresh underwear for 
 the patient, and, perhaps, for a poor, unwelcome baby. One old settler 
 says: "If any pioneer woman deserves to be mentioned it is Aunt Sally 
 Ilerrick, for she went among the rich and poor, night and day, without 
 thought of herself until it seemed as if the people could not have lived 
 without her." She lived first in a house on Main street, but soon after 
 her husband bought a shop (he was a carpenter) and she begged to be 
 allowed to "fix it up." He said it "was all right now," but before he 
 realized what she was doing, she had whitewashed walls and ceiling, par. 
 titioned it with white cloth, and made of the old building the most tidy, 
 
 — 342 — 
 
cheery home imaginable. "And I was the proudest wornan you ever 
 saw!" Auni Sally says. Here they lived until Mr. Ilerrick built the house 
 now owned by Mrs. Worthing ton; from there they moved to the home 
 where Aunt Sally now lives on West Third street, which was so far (jut 
 in the country that her husband thought she would not be so completely 
 at the call of all the new babies and recent mourners. The first night 
 in the new home he felt quite a sense of security but before midnight 
 there was a rap, and a request to go to a friend; the second night there 
 was another call, and the third still another, so Mr. Ilerrick finding there 
 was no safety in distance, like a wise man held liis peace. 
 
 To Mr. Herrick the town owed its first hearse. In the earlier days 
 the coffins were carried upon a bier, by the bearers, up the long sandy 
 road to the cemetery. Then they used a light open wagon, but Aunt 
 Sally said she ''got so tired seeing the corpses she had dressed with such 
 care, shook up in that wagon" that she gathered funds from all possible 
 sources for a hearse. When it came it had no trimmings or curtains, so 
 slie added these lierself and fitted it up in the most becoming style. It 
 must have been a comfort to others beside Aunt Sally to see the bodies 
 of dear friends carried in the more suitable vehicle, 
 
 l^p the river Col. Johnson built the house now known as the Van- 
 Arnam place, but called in early days the "Steamboat Hotel" because it 
 was built with a long central room, with bedrooms each side, after the 
 manner of steamboats Col. Johnson also set out the l^eautiful row of 
 maples along the river bank below his place, which add so much beauty 
 to our autumnal landscape. His daughter was the wife of Dr. Nash, 
 who came here the same year his sister, Mrs. Sally (Nash) Ilerrick did, 
 1142. Dr. Nash practiced medicine here for some years, but finally, in 
 company with Silas Noble built the Union Block, in which he opened a 
 drugstore, which he kept for several years and sold to R. B. Higgins. 
 Dr. Nash built the house in which 1). W. McKenney now lives, and Silas 
 Noble the one owned for so many years by Mrs. Ruth Porter. 
 
 Col. Johnson did not stay here very long, and the next occupants of 
 his house were a couple to whom Lee county, indeed Northern Illinois, 
 owes much— the Rev. and Mrs. Luke Hitchcock. As pioneer preacher 
 and presiding elder, Mr. Hitchcock travelled all through these parts. 
 Always a devoted Christian, an intelligent citizen and a faithful friend, 
 there are men and women scattered abroad over many states who will 
 rise to bear witness to the noble record of Luke Hitchcock and his wife. 
 
 Mrs. Hitchcock's sister, Mrs. C). F. Ayres lived in a small house, still 
 standing, just above the home of our venerable ex-drayman Dan Bresna- 
 
 — 34.S — 
 
han, and her boys used to run across the hill to play with the "Judsotl 
 boys" when the Rev. Philo Judson lived in another little house, back of 
 Col. Johnson's. Mr. Ay res was also a minister, but owing to feeble 
 health never took charge of a church in the west. However, if the rec- 
 ords were searched, they would doubtless prove that he married more 
 couples and attended more funerals than any minister in Dixon. Mrs. 
 Ayres survived her husband many years, and has been much interested 
 in the gathering of these "Recollections," and we hoped would add 
 something to these pages. 
 
 The announcement of her death as I near the completion of this paper 
 brings to mind the last time we met. It was a pleasant evening party 
 at the home of her son D. B., and as a group stood about her she most 
 feelingly referred to pioneer days, when she had known the mothers of 
 many present. As we said "good night" she said "good nights would be 
 sad, were it not for the thought of good mornings" and one added "yes, 
 'good mornings' in the Father's House." 
 
 I have spoken of Judge Wood's house in anuther place, but Judge 
 Wood himself should have more extended notice, since he was one of the 
 first lawyers in Dixon, and held almost continuously some legal office, 
 from the time he came here in 1842 till his death a few years since. His 
 first wife was a sister of Alonzo Maxwell, a beautiful little woman and 
 the mother of four children. His second wife was a true second mother 
 to them and a woman of most lovely character. Her death, near the 
 time of business reverses left him a saddened and broken-spirited man, 
 so it is hard for those who knew him in late years only, to realize his true 
 worth. 
 
 Daniel and Christopher Brookner came here in 1837. Daniel lived in 
 a small house not far from the Washington nouse, now occupied by Mrs. 
 Hayes, and he, with his wife and son were among the victims of the chol- 
 era epidemic. Christopher had a cabinet and furniture store. He came 
 to this country from Germany in 183-4 and to Dixon in 1837. He is said to 
 have sought the comfort of domestic life rather than the strife of public 
 contest, hesitating to push himself into prominence, but his industry, re- 
 liability and integrity gained him the respect and esteem of all who knew 
 him. In 1846 he married Miss Jane Robinson, who had recently come 
 here from Oberlin, Ohio, with her sister, Mrs. Chas. Weed. They were 
 married in the house where they afterward lived, wliere the bride then 
 boarded with Mrs. Alonzo Mead. The wedding was early in the morn- 
 ing, for the bridal party were to drive to Rockford in a sleigh. One of 
 Mrs Mead's family remembers how in the efforts of the children to get a 
 
 — 344 — 
 
peet) at the ceremony through a stoVe-pipe hole, somebody nearly fell 
 through, and how "old maid Cummins" (as the veteran school ma'am was 
 called when her back was turned) vainly tried to restore order and quiet. 
 Mrs. Brookner remembers that there were only two or threo houses on 
 the north side of the river, and that she had seen deer skip from the 
 south bank to the island through the clear, shallow water. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Brookner lived in a small cottage where Mr. Gaffney's 
 livery stable now stands on East Main street. They built their pleasant 
 home in North Dixon in 18(il. 
 
 Up to 1849 or '50 there were no houses, except those named heretofore, 
 the old log "block house" (about where Mr. Schatzman's house is now) in 
 North Dixon, and an old "store" a little above. About that time Mrs. 
 Baker built her house, and Judge Eustace, one of the most promising 
 young men of the town, the house now owned by Jas. B. Charters, and 
 then North Dixon grew rapidly. From one of the family we have the 
 following: 
 
 "This chapter would not be complete without a brief mention of the 
 McKenney family, of which eleven children, (ten sons and a daughter) 
 with one exception made Lee county their home. The first arrival here 
 was D. B. McKenney, who came in 1835. In the spring of 1836 his father, 
 Peter McKenney, came from Canada to join him, bringing with him his 
 wife and two daughters, Eliza Ann and Catherine. 'Aunt Rhoda,' his 
 wife, was one of the most amiable and kind hearted women ever known. 
 She is said to have had a kind look and pleasant word for all, and no old 
 settler refers to her without some term of respect and affection. 
 
 The next fall Daniel, Robert, John, Frederick and James came, bring- 
 ing their families, excepting the last two. Frederick soon after married 
 Catherine Clute in Schenectady, N. Y. "Uncle Fred," and "Auntie 
 Fred" were the endearing names by which they were well known: both 
 are now dead, leaving two sons and two daughters to monrn their loss. 
 James was married on New Year's Day, 1840, to Harriet Whitney, a 
 daughter of Col. Nathan Whitney, of Franklin Grove. He died many 
 years since, leaving four daughters. Frederick and James carried on a 
 grocery business until 1849. They used to tell many interesting stories of 
 their trips to Chicago to buy goods -of sloughs with no bottom, and streets 
 in Chicago where they had to have help to pull their wagons out of the 
 mud with great chains. With the family of Robert McKenney came Dan- 
 iel, Eliza and Caroline Davis and two helpers, Susan Alway and Wilmot 
 Brown, both of whom found husbands and settled in Dixon, Eliza Davis 
 died during her first year here, being too frail to endure pioneer life. 
 
 — 345 — 
 
Caroline married James Benjamin, leaving at her death a family of five 
 children. Uncle Peter and his son J). B. kept the Dixon house, (which 
 they built) for a number of years, selling out to Henry McKenney, who 
 came with Richard from Canada, bringing with hinx his wife Eusebia 
 Nash, afterward Mrs. Perry. Matthew McKenney also came at this time 
 and died here, many years since. Richard McKenney l)ought a farm at 
 Hiclcory Grove, where he died. The other sons, except one, and the 
 daughter, afterward joined the family here and settled in this vicinity. 
 
 I cannot close this paper without referring to the deep ioapression I 
 have received in the talks with the few remaining pioneer women of 
 Dixon and vicinity, on the subject of their early experiences, many of 
 which are too sacred and personal for even these pages. There is no more 
 convincing proof of the reality of Christian fortitude or the worth of 
 ('hristian character than the story of their pioneer days. They had little 
 idea of the career of latter-day women, but they had all the elements of 
 character which today would have given them a high rank in any position 
 where circumstances would have placed them. They had the spirit which 
 inspires the true soldier, and though they did not command armies or 
 conquer visible foes, they organized forces far less amenable to disci- 
 pline, they fought desperate battles uncheered by martial music, and 
 conquered enemies more unyielding, gaining for their daughters a peace- 
 able heritage of civilization which these annals will, we trust, enable 
 
 them to more fully appreciate. 
 
 Sephie F. G. Smith. 
 
Owr Pir^t Scftoof Hov/^e. 
 
 BY DR. OLIVER EVERETT IN 18S0. 
 
 (Inserted by special reo'iest.) 
 
 IN looking over, recently, some old papers, I came across the subscrip- 
 tion paper for building the first school house in Dixon, and have 
 thought that it would not be without interest to many of our readers. 
 This paper was got up in January, 1837, and contains many names famil- 
 iar to the old settlers. The subscription paper read as follows: 
 
 We, the subscribers, agree to pay the sum severally attached to our names, for the 
 purpose of oroctinga school house in the town of Dixon. Said school house shall be 
 for the teaching of Primary schools, and shall be open for religious meetings of all 
 denominations, when not occupied by the schools. 
 
 Said house shall be one story high and at least forty feet by twenty on the ground, 
 and shall contain two rooms which shall be connected by a door or doors, as may be 
 thought proper. 
 
 The subscribers shall meet on Monday, the iOth day of February next, at 6 o'clock 
 P, M., and choose three trustees to superintend the building of said house. The trust- 
 ees shall have power to collect the money subscribed, contract for and purchase ma- 
 terial for said housei and employ workmen to do the same. They shall see that it is 
 done in a plain, workmanlike manner: so far as the funds shall warrant. 
 
 KAME. 
 
 NAME. 
 
 .las. P. Dixon, 
 
 $25 00 
 
 John Snyder, 
 
 5 00 
 
 Horace Thompson, 
 
 6 00 
 
 Oliver Everett, 
 
 •25 00 
 
 H Martin, 
 
 5 00 
 
 Mrs. K. Dixon, 
 
 30 00 
 
 John Wilson, 
 
 2.". Oi 
 
 W. P. Burroughs, 
 
 15 00 
 
 L, D Butler, 
 
 5 00 
 
 Caleb Talmage, 
 
 20 00 
 
 John Dixon, 
 
 20 00 
 
 M L. Dixon, 
 
 5 00 
 
 J. B. Barr, 
 
 10 00 
 
 I. S. Boai'dmaii, 
 
 10 00 
 
 Mrs. A. Talmage, 
 
 5 00 
 
 Samuel Leonard, 
 
 5 00 
 
 A friend, 
 
 5 00 
 
 Mrs. M. H. Barr, 
 
 10 00 
 
 Jacob Rue, 
 
 5 00 
 
 M. McCabo. 
 
 10 00 
 
 J. Muphoy. 
 
 10 00 
 
 B, B. Brown. 
 
 r. 00 
 
 Allen Wiley, 
 
 10 00 
 
 N. W. Brown, 
 
 5 00 
 
 Samuel Gatten, 
 
 e ou 
 
 .J. W. Hamilton. 
 
 5 00 
 
 S. M. Bowman, 
 
 10 00 
 
 Eilwin Hine, 
 
 5 00 
 
 Geo. L. Chapman, 
 
 5 00 
 
 John Richards. 
 
 10 00 
 
 EHjah Dixon, 
 
 15 00 
 
 W. H. Rowe, 
 
 10 00 
 
 C. F. Hubbard, 
 
 5 00 
 
 Hiram P. Parks, 
 
 10 00 
 
 J. W. Dixon, 
 
 10 00 
 
 W. W. Graham. 
 
 5 Do 
 
 John Q.Adams, 
 
 00 10 
 
 £. W. Covin, 
 
 25 00 
 
 T. L. Hubbard, 
 
 5 OO 
 
 (Expunged) 
 
 
 E. A. Statia, 
 
 5 00 
 
 John Carr, 
 
 5 OO 
 
 Seth D. Brittain. 
 
 20 00 
 
 S. W. Johnson, 
 
 10 00 
 
 George Kip, 
 
 5 00 
 
 If he settles here. 
 
 
 Robert Murry, 
 
 10 00 
 
 Wm. Graham, 
 
 5 00 
 
 Lemuel HuCf. 
 
 15 00 
 
 Sam'l C. McClure, 
 
 15 OO 
 
 
 
 Alanson Uickerman 
 
 $ 5 00 
 
 Mrs. E. N. Hamilton. 
 
 15 00 
 
 
 
 — :]4T — 
 
It will be noticed that many of the subscribers were persons living 
 some distance in the country, and of those who came to the country dur- 
 ing the next season. The reason that Father Dixon's name was not at or 
 near the head of the list is that he was away that winter in Vandalia, 
 the the capital of the state. It may aiso be noticed that the matter 
 dragged somewhat, as such, enterprises often do, and the ladies took it up, 
 Mrs. Dixon giving the largest subscription on the list and Mrs. Hamilton 
 a generous amount. Again it may ])e noticed that one John Q. Adams, 
 not our present John Q. Adams, but an unworthy bearer of a great name, 
 in subscribing put two 00 where the dollars ought to have been, making 
 his subscription but 10 cents. When his attention was called to it he said 
 it was just as he intended to have it. His name was dealt with as was 
 fashionable at that time — it was expunged. 
 
 The old school house was built during the summer of 1837 of the size 
 and frame specified in the subscription paper, about twenty rods west of 
 the cemetery, on or near lot one, block sixty-nine, now occupied by Harry 
 Smith. It was built perfectly plain, without a cornice, and enclosed 
 with undressed oak siding and a hard wood shingle roof. The inside 
 consisted of two rooms, one six feet by twenty extending across the end 
 of the building, serving as an entrance way or vestibule to the main 
 room, which was twenty by thirty-four feet, with three windows on 
 either side and one at the end of the room opposite the entrance. It was 
 plastered on the inside with a single coat of coarse brown niortar, and 
 was warmed during winter with a wood flre in a large box store. In 1839 
 it was moved down or. to the north end of lot five, block seventeen, on the 
 east side of Ottawa street, just south of the residence of Dr. Nash, now 
 occupied by Daniel McKenney, fronting to the north upon the alley. 
 There it remained for several years, and was used for school house, meet- 
 ing house and court house (the first three terms of the Circuit Court of 
 Lee County were held in it). Elections and political meetings and con- 
 ventions were held in it, and it was always used for whatever other pur- 
 pose the people might congregate. 
 
 The old school house was very plain, rough and uninviting to look up- 
 on, but there are many recollections associated with it which are always. 
 dwelt upon by the carlv settlers with great interest, and should make the 
 niemory of it dear to the people of Dixon It was within its rough brown 
 walls that the venerable and revered Bishop Chase, then Senior Bishopof 
 the American Episcopal church, first preached to the scattered members 
 of his fold as were hereabout, and broke to them the bread of the sacra- 
 ment, and where Rev. James DeBui, a man of rare culture and gentle 
 
 — 348 - 
 
and genial social qualities, preached for more than twelve months. It 
 was there that the Methodist and Baptist churclies of this place were 
 formed and nurtured in their infancy. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Hitchcock and the Rev. Philo Judson, who for nearly 
 half a century have been among the foremost laborers in the great and 
 beneficent organization to which they belong, then in the vigor of early 
 manhood, each preached his two years there. The Rev. Thomas Powell, 
 a devoted missionary of the Baptist denomination, well known among 
 the early settlers of no inconsiderable portion of the state for his indefat- 
 igable and faithful service in the religious interest of the people, then 
 often living remote from each other and either destitute or but poorly 
 supplied with competent religious teachers: often held services in the old 
 school house, and officiated at the formation of the Baptist church of 
 Dixon. Also the Rev. Burton Carpenter, the remembrance of whose la- 
 bors here is cherished by many of the old settlers, and who, in the high 
 standing he afterwards attained in the denomination to which he be- 
 longs, and in a life of great usefulness in another part of the state he has 
 not disappointed the expectations of his early friends; commenced his 
 labors in the raialstry and preached about three years in this same old 
 school house. During nearly the whole time religious services were held 
 in the old school house, the Methodist and Baptist congregations occu- 
 pied it alternate Sundays, the Methodist clergyman preaching at Inlet 
 Grove or Sugar Grove, and Mr. Carpenter at Buffalo Grove the interven- 
 ing Sabbaths. 
 
 In the spring of 1840 there was a convention of the Whig party of the 
 Jo Daviess representative district, which embraced the whole north- 
 western part of the state, held at the school house, and Thomas Dr im- 
 mond, known in this generation as Judge Drummnnd of the United States 
 Court at Chicago, then a young lawyer of Galena, was nominated as a 
 candidate for member of the House of Representatives in the State Leg- 
 islature. He represented an extent of territory now constituting nearly 
 two congressional districts. Among the teachers in the old school house 
 was the late lamented W. W Heaton, whom the citizens of Dixon have 
 seen rise by his industry and legal aniuirements from the school mas- 
 ter's chair to the bench. 
 
 In the beginning of the year 184;^ the Methodist church was tinished 
 and dedicated and the court house was so far completed that the courts 
 were held in it and was used for religious and political meetings, and the 
 old school house fell into comparative disuse. 
 
Ov/r Scfioof-s c\1l aT2 Earf^ Da 
 
 V. 
 
 DURING the first few years after the settlement of the place there 
 were, of course, no schools, as there were not a sufflcient number of 
 children to support one, but Mr, Dixon kept up a family school, 
 more or less regularly, for the education of his own children, and em- 
 ployed for this purpose a young lady from Bureau county, by the name of 
 Butler. This was the only school taught in this region until the year 
 1838. The previous year the citizens here erected a school house on a spot 
 not far from where Mrs. Truman now resides, and the first school was 
 opened in 1838 by Mr. Bicknell. It was small and supported by individual 
 tuition fees. For the next two or three years this school house was used 
 for a variety of purposes, being the only public building in the town. 
 
 In 1840 Mr. Bowen was in charge of the school for a short time, but 
 by his own indiscretion shortened his stay. Concerning his ability as a 
 teacher I have been able to learn l)ut little. One incident, however, will 
 serve to show why he did not prolong his term He one day gave notice 
 that he wished his pupils to come early the next morning, as he had 
 a great natural curiosity to exhibit to them. Mr. Bowen then prepared 
 to fulfill his part of the contract, and the next morning lie climbed up 
 through the scuttle and located himself there in tlie character of a bear, 
 making all kinds of grimaces in close imitation of that exceedingly 
 beautiful (?) animal as the pupils entered. Boys were boys then, as 
 now, and ever will be, I doubt not, and were not slow to seize so good an 
 opportunity for some fun. They accordingly pronounced him a bear 
 indeed, and forthwith commenced an attack upon the savage animal 
 with clubs and poles, so that poor bruin was unable to descend and again 
 assume his liuman form. This gave rise to so much ridicule and sport) 
 that Mr. Bowen could never recover his pedagogical dignity, and was^ 
 finally compelled to abandon the school. 
 
 In the winter of 1841-42 W. W. Heaton, then a young lawyer, taught 
 the school, receiving, like his predecessors, compensation for tuition, ancj 
 this not always in money, as corn, pork, potatoes, or any other product 
 
 — 350 — 
 
that could be used in a family, were gladly given and received for tlie 
 labors and trials of the teacher. In this time the number of pupils had 
 largely increased, so that in number and efficiency the school was now 
 quite creditable. Among those attending school that year were: Orlando 
 and Jane Ann Herrick (Mrs. H. T. Noble,) George Foot an^ Mrs. D. B. 
 McKenney. 
 
 Mr. Heaton's path seems to have been no smoother than that of the 
 teacher of the present day, and corporal punishment was not discarded 
 then, any more than now, as the following will show. Having severely 
 castigated one of the boys, the father became very much enraged, and 
 made bitter complaints to O. F. Ayres, then one of the school directors, 
 and threatened to wreak summary vengence on "that little stripling 
 up there in that school." Such direful calamity was, however, averted 
 through the intercession of Mr. Ayres, and the exasperated parent has 
 ever since been a firm friend to Judge Heaton. The Judge's disciplinary 
 powers were excellent, as some other of his pupils can testify from sor- 
 rowful experience. 
 
 About this time a dispute arose as to the title of the lot on which the 
 school house stood: the party claiming the lot also insisting upon holding 
 the building. This view of the matter was not at all pleasing to the 
 tax payers of the district, and not having the utmost confidence in the 
 promptness or justice of the courts, they sought a solution of the difficulty 
 by a more summary process. They determined, while night's sable man- 
 tle was drawn over earthly scenes, that, by spiritual or muscular power, 
 or both, they would cause the said school building to remove from this 
 disputed territory to a more secure abiding place. John Hogan, Esq., 
 now ex-member of congress from St. Louis, originated, planned and con- 
 ducted the enterprise, aided largely by A. L. Porter, who as all know, 
 was well calculated to assist in such work. N. G. 11. Morrill was on 
 hand to superintend the special work of removal, and then exhibited the 
 same skill in the business that he has shown so many times since. On 
 that memorable night he took some of his first lessons in the business of 
 removals, which he has since followed faithfully to the present time. 
 Mr. Heaton wa* roused from his midnight slumbers to be present, and 
 see that the business should be done in a strictly legal (?) manner, and 
 many of our citizens yet remember the gentle tap at their windows that 
 night, and the mysterious whisper, "We're all readyl'' and with the 
 alacrity of veterans they obeyed the call. The expedition, under charge 
 of the above named officers, and with full ranks, proceeded in the still- 
 ness of the night to the scene of conflict. No rattle of the drum, nor 
 
 — 351 — 
 
roar of cannon stirred the midnight air, as with the flrniness of despera- 
 tion they proceeded to accomplish their design. But when the building 
 slid over the line of the disputed lot and was landed securely on undis- 
 puted soil, the evening skies echoed to three hearty cheers from the vic- 
 tors. The morning sun looked down upon the scene and saw the build- 
 ing quietly resting on peaceful soil, where it was used for some time there- 
 after for school purposes. It was afterwards removed to the lot now 
 occupied by S. S. Dodge's jewelry store, and having been used as a gro- 
 cery, hardware and drug store, was finally consumed in the great flre of 
 1858. 
 
 Miss Ophelia Loveland, (Mrs. J. B. Brooks) taught the school during 
 the summer of 1843, while the school house stood on the lot now oc- 
 cupied by the residence of D. W. McKenney, whicli was its stopping 
 place at the time of its nocturnal journey. The district then included 
 both sides of the river, and extended up the river as far as Mr. Fuller's 
 place, and yet the school numbered but about twenty-flve pupils. Among 
 these were Miss Helen Williams (now Mrs. Mulkins), and Miss Elizabeth 
 and Master James Ayres. One boy, still well known in this city, was 
 punished severely for swearing, but his after habits plainly demonstrated 
 that corporal punishment, at least one dose, is not a complete cure for 
 profanity. An amusing incident occurred that summer among the little 
 boys. Frank Dixon, son of John W. Dixon, on his way to school one 
 morning, found a small piece of tobacco which he carefully deposited in 
 his pocket and took with him. At recess he called all the boys around 
 him and told them he had something good which he would divide with 
 them. He accordingly did so, giving a small piece of the treasure to 
 each one of the boys except his little brother Elijah, telling them the 
 men said it was good, and Instructing them to chew it well, and swallow 
 all the juice. The little fellows followed his example and advice closely, 
 and very soon after recess began to ask to go home, complaining that 
 they were very sick and didn't know what made them so. The truth 
 was finally ascertained from Little Elijah Dixon, who alone was able to 
 give a clear statement, and the sick ones were sent home for medical 
 treatment. Frank, the leader of the enterprise, has never since found 
 it to his advantage to use tobacco. During these years the school was 
 frequently taught by ladies. I have obtained the names of Miss 
 Elizabeth Johnson, (Mrs. J. B. Nash), and a Miss Curtis, sister of Mr. 
 Seavy, of Sugar Grove, and Mrs. L. A. Ramsay. 
 
 During the winter of 1843-4 the school was taught by Lorenzo Wood, 
 (Judge Wood, of this city.) There were in attendance at the school that 
 
 — 352 — 
 
winter ii very interesting class of younff people, several coming in from 
 the country around, so that this winter's school is rembercrt with 
 much satisfaction by many of our citizens, because of its pleasant asso- 
 ciations and the thorough instructions jfiven by the teacher. Among 
 the pupils names arc found those of Miss Sybil VanArnam, (Mrs. E. B. 
 Stiles), and Mrs. A. R. Whitney, of Franklin Grove. 
 
 Between the years i;?-l(i and 1849, the school was taught by Mr. Cross 
 and Mr. James Lumm. Of the former I have been able to learn but little; 
 he taught a portion of the time in the public schools. He was somewhat 
 deformed, his hands being somewhat drawn out of shape by rheumatism' 
 and the universal testimony of the boys was that his fingers were apt to 
 become so bady entangled in their hair that it was not only very dilficult 
 but very painful to disengage them. His school was fair, however, con- 
 sidering the conveniences, or rather inconveniences by which he was sur- 
 rounded. In 1847 James Lumm took charge of the school. He was very 
 rigid in his discipline, and in his efforts to bring the school ui) to liis 
 standard in point of order and efficiency he met with much opposition 
 and many complaints were made to the directors, but the general feeling 
 of the community was largely in favor of the school, and the interest in 
 school matters seemed, during Mr. Lumm's administration, to increase 
 steadily. He was an amateur in natural history, and during his stay in 
 Dixon devoted considerable time and labor to the preparation of speci- 
 mens in. the various departments of this science. Dr. Everett, of our 
 city, whose collections of Geological, Bot.anical and Ornithological speci- 
 mens is among the best private collections in the state, was assisted by 
 Mr. Lumm in its preparation When Mr. Lumm removed to Oregon, 
 on leaving Dixon, and while pursuing other business, he still coutinued 
 his pastime. Several years after he had gone west, one of his old friends 
 from Dixon sought to visit him at his home in Oregon. After making 
 many iniiuiries concerning him, he was directed to a humble cabin in an 
 obscure place, to a man who spent most of his time among bugs, birds 
 and animals. He went there and found his old friend surrounded by his 
 gathered specimens, embracing the various species from the tiniest in- 
 sect to the huge grizzly bear. Tliis collection Mr. Lumm afterwards 
 took to California and sold for thirty thousand dollars. During these 
 years, from 1842, Mr. O. F. Ayres and Dr. Nash were elected and re- 
 elected year after year to the offlceof school directors and bore the burden 
 and laVxtrs atiendant upon the oversight of schools in a new country, in 
 a praiseworthy manner. 
 In 1848 Mr. Kay was employed to teach; he was a man of singular com- 
 
 — 353 — 
 
position and imparted considerable of liis singularity to his school. He 
 was finely educated and possessed a remarkable power of illustration, 
 making difficult points very clear to his pupils, while on the other hand 
 he was extremely visionary and impratctical in many things. His success 
 as a teacher was not remarkable, as his eccentricies predominated and 
 exhibited themselves very prominently in his administration of school 
 affairs. He sometimes left the school tu go down town for business or 
 pleasure, locking the children in, ami as may be imagined, ihe scho(/l- 
 room presented a scene highly gratifying to lovers of fun. Once when a 
 boy made his appearance at school with a cigar in his mouth, Mr. Mc- 
 Kay very cooly appropriated the contraband weed to his own private use, 
 arid composedly smoked it in the presence of the owner and the rest of 
 his pupils. 
 
 During the years 1851 and 1852 the school was under the charge of Col. 
 H. T. Noble; he was employed most of the time on a salary of forty dol- 
 lars a month. Even as late as that time the public sentiment concerning 
 school matters was very loose, and the material and conveniences for a 
 school extremely crude. The old school house has been abandoned and 
 a new stone building erected in the rear of the Nachusa house, since re- 
 placed by Mrs. Burke's residence. The school house was very loosely built 
 and being heated by a fireplace in oneend it was very coLl in winter, and 
 one lady still remembers with greatdistinctness tnatshe froze her heel in 
 that school room one cold day. I>ut with all these disadvantages, though 
 the energy and tact of Col. Noble, the school was by no means inefficient, 
 and the recollection of those days brings pleasant memories to many now 
 residing in this city. Among the older pupils at this time were Mrs. H. T. 
 Noble, Mrs. Soule, Mrs. Hollenljack and Mrs. B. F. Shaw. The loose ideas 
 prevalent in the community concerning school discipline rendered it very 
 difficult to maintain anythino- like proper order. A refusal, on tlie part 
 of the teacher to allow the pupil to roam about the schoolrom ad libition 
 or sit with such of his schoolmates as he might choose, was considered 
 sufficient cause for leaving school, and in very many cases the parents 
 upheld the child in this spirit of insubordination. 
 
 The school becoming somewhat too large for the sniall room in wliich 
 it was held, a primary department was started in the spring of 1852 in 
 the court house, under the charge of Miss Jane Ann Herrick. During 
 Col. Noble's administration the location of the Illinois Central R. II. 
 through Dixon was decided upon and great excitement prevailed through- 
 out the town and vicinity. Col. NoblCi in his enthusiasm, went to his 
 school-room and in a stirring speech announced the glorious event to his 
 
 — 354 — 
 
pupils and in the height of his anticipations protiiised them all a ride 
 on the R. R. "clear through to ISIobile." Many of the inipils are still 
 awaiting the ride anxiously. 
 
 Another little incident occurred that seems worthy of record. John 
 Gilbrath, then quite a lad, frequently obtained permission from his 
 mother to return home at three o'clock, but one day she refused to give 
 his usual written note to the teacher, and on his way to school he ap- 
 plied to J. B. Brooks, then a merchant in the place, for one. Mr. Brooks 
 being busy, Mr. Alexander, then a clerk in the store, said he would write 
 it for him. lie did so, and handed the note neatly folded to Master John 
 who, with a light heart and smiling face, tripped into the school-room 
 and presented it to his teacher. Mr. Noble read it carefully and burst 
 into a loud laugh. "John,"' said he, "do you k-now what this isy' "Yes 
 sir, it is a request for me to be dismissed at three o'clock." I think you 
 are mistaken. It says: 'Here is a boy who needs a Hogging— and if you 
 don't give it to him I will.'" Johnnie "slid." 
 
 C. N. Levanway, then a young law student, taught the school in the 
 years 1852 and '53, continuing still in the old stone building, the school 
 remaining much the same in the character of the instruction and num- 
 ber of pupils, as during the preceding years. Mr. Levanway afterward 
 settled in this city as a lawyer, and so continued until the breaking out 
 of the rebellion, when he enlisted in the .34th Illinois Regiment. He was 
 elected Major and served nobly the cause he loved, and was killed while 
 ordering his regiment to advance, at the battle of Pittsburg Landing. 
 
 F. A. Soule succeeded him in the principalship of the school, still 
 teaching in the old stone building, with nothing special in the character 
 of the school to distinguish it from th.vt of the few previous years. 
 
 In 1853 William Barge assumed control of the schools, and continued 
 in charge until 1859. Under his direction and excellent management, 
 ihe school took the form, character and etliciency of a graded school. lie 
 taught a portion of the time in the same old stone building, l)Ut that was 
 finally abandoned and ihe school transferred to a building known as 
 the "Land Otlice," now used by S. A. Vann as a residence. The old stone 
 building having become wholly unsuitable for school purposes, the school 
 directors were compelled to rent such rooms as they could find, and some 
 of tiie lime they were unable to (Ind any. Under these circumstances it 
 became necessary to provide a larger and better school hous. [Several pub- 
 licmeetingswere held and after fully discussing the matter itwasdecidcd 
 to go forward and build, and the result was the erection of the "Union 
 School Building" on Peoria street, in 1855, at a cost of $6,000. The place 
 
 — 355 — 
 
now occupied by J. C. Ayres" house. This buihliti^', through- the presist- 
 ence of Mr. Barge, was furnished with Chase's patent school scats, be- 
 lieved to be about the lir.it patent school furniture ever introduced into 
 the state, the old wooden desks then being in use in Chicago. The schools 
 now, owing to the better accommodations furnished, and the improved 
 methods of teaching adopted, made such marked progress that they 
 merited and received the cordial support of the community. To Mr. 
 Barge must be accorded the honor of organizing the first graded school 
 ever taught in our city. As soon as the new building was ready for occu- 
 pancy it was tilled, and ihe school was recommenced with a new impetus. 
 In 1858 a high school department was established in the Methodist church 
 building and A. 11. Fitch was elected principal. 
 
 A, M. Gow, in 1859, was employed as superintendent of schools, and 
 James Gow was principal of the high school. The school then consisted 
 of five departments and had an enrollment of about four hundred. These 
 gentlemen continued in charge of the school until 1862, when the writer 
 was elected to act, at once as superintendent of schools and principal of 
 the high school, in which capacity he has labored twenty-one years- 
 There has been a constant increase in the number of pupils since 1864 
 and the buildings owned and occupied by the district being found too 
 small, for two or three years rooms were rented in various parts of the 
 city to accommodate the new departments which it was found necessary 
 to form. 
 
 In 1867, ht)weYer, it was determined to erect a new school building 
 which should be suited to the wants of the school in size, plan and ap" 
 pearance. By a vote so nearly unanimous as to show the general feeling 
 in the community in favor of good public schools, the directors were 
 authorized to borrow money on the bonds of the school district to the 
 amount of thirty thousand dollars, to be appropriated to the erection of 
 a good school house, and in September, 1869, we were permitted to enter 
 our new and elegant building Very great credit should be awarded to 
 the gentlemen then composing the Board of School Directors, Messrs. .]. 
 A. llawlcy, 11. D. Dement and David. Welty, for the faithful manner in 
 which they performed their duties, especially for the economy which they 
 practiced in extending the funds in the erection of tlie building. I have 
 traveled considerably through the state, have examined many of the 
 best school buildings, and am convinced that we may challenge the 
 state in having the best buildings, for the money, within her borders. 
 
 The later history of our schcjols is sutliciently familiar to make it un 
 necessary to record it here. The schools on the north side arc of too re- 
 cent date to be numbered among the pioneers. 
 
 E. C. Smith. 
 
^JoWTj^Bip oj^ . J-( zwmon. 
 
RGexffectiOTi^ ®5 f'l^^^^<^T2. 
 
 HARMON, in the southwest part of Lee Count}', was settled in 1853, 
 and while to the elder residents of their parts of the county it 
 would seem absurd to call this an early day, to those who partici- 
 pated in that event it was a grim, hard realitj, savoring much of heroism, 
 and bringing out the stern qualities of human nature that are character- 
 istic of the homesteader and early settler. 
 
 Permit me to say that the homestead laws of our country developed a 
 class somewhat like the gypsies. Homesteading was simply done for 
 gain. A man was John Smith in Nebraska and Tom Brown in Kansas, 
 and as soon as the real settler followed and bought him out he "moved 
 on," simply "squatting" for gain, devoid of the homing instinct. 
 
 Lee County was settled before the enactment of tlie homestead laws 
 by people who came west to obtain lands to live on and make homes of. 
 These people were sturdy and law-abiding, bringing their religious and 
 coscientious practices of right and wrong with them. Both che early 
 settler and the homesteader are great civilizers, and endure hardships 
 of which those who follow later have no conception. Such people arc 
 the "salt of the earth." 
 
 In 1853, John D. Rosbrook, with three sons, came from Niagara 
 County, New York, and settled at the "Lake," a clear body of sparkling 
 water covering nearly forty acres on quite a rise of ground in what has 
 since been known as Harmon Township. For nearly a year they "kept 
 bach" in a small house. There was not a habitation in sight, the nearest 
 dwelling was eight miles away, and for years this Rosbrook place at the 
 lake was known as the center of the settlement, and the points mentioned 
 diverge from there. 
 
 The following spring the two remaining sons came. At that time 
 there were no traveled highways, but simply a trail across the prairie, 
 crooked and deviating as it wound around the sloughs. 
 
 A mile to the northeast of the lake there was i.. large sand hill where 
 the wolves used to congregate, brought there by the dead bodies of ani- 
 
 — 35!) — 
 
inals that had been hauled there from the places where they had d:ed. 
 Their fighting and weird, mournful howling in the cold winter nights was 
 appalling, and to a boy eight years old, lying awake shivering in the star- 
 light and gazing from a chamber window across the snow towards this 
 nightly visitation of grim and grizzled prowlers, it was a source of lone- 
 some homesickness; and a fervid prayer for redemption from such a 
 scene of desolation, together with a flow of tenrs of pure wretchedness, 
 were usually the last things of consciousness before slumber. 
 
 Breaking prairie was of the first in<portance. Five yoke of large oxen 
 were hooked to a plow sixteen feet iong, turning three feet of sod -two 
 rounds a mile long making an acre. The driver of the oxen walked beside 
 the team in the prairie gra.ss, with a long gad or pole with a short lash, a 
 very convenient whip to reach any laggard in the string. George Ros- 
 brook held the plow that turned the lirst sod in Harmon township. 
 Snakes of all kinds would crawl up on the newly turned sod to lie in the 
 sun. At the approach of the breaking team they would scurry away 
 through the grass, and the driver was often tripped up by blue racers, five 
 feet long, coiling around his bare ankles. One day six large rattlesnakes 
 were killed by the driver of that breaking team. Corn, potatoes and 
 melons grew in abundance on the newly turned sod, without cultivation. 
 
 Robert Tuttle came with his family from New Hampshire in 1853. He 
 settled in Knox County, about tvi'O hundred miles south. He was a large, 
 strong, stalwart man and had followed the life of a lumberman in the 
 pineries. Leaving his family in Knox County he started afoot toward 
 the pine woods of the north. He came on foot to Dixon, 111., where he 
 was taken sick and after a very short illness died. Hen-ry Stores, a resi- 
 dent of Lee County, drove with a pair of horses to Knox County after 
 Mrs. Tuttle, and she arrived at the bedside of her husband just previous 
 to his death. Mrs. Tuttle was a sister of Mitchell Rosbrook, and in 1854 
 she, with her family of five children, settled in Ilarmori township, build- 
 ing quite a good house for that early day. 
 
 Afterwards, by the persistent efforts of this estimable lady, a private 
 school was kept in this house, and the writer has seen deer shot at from 
 the window of that school room as they were feeding on the prairie a 
 short distance away. Some of the grandest dances of the early days 
 were held there. Oliver Wagner often furnished the music, and fre- 
 quently rapping his violin with the bow to call attention, like an auto- 
 crat he would order all to their places, and after soundly berating them, 
 personally and collectively, for mistakes, and again cautioning the boys 
 to "dance on their toes," would command, "All forward again." 
 
 — 3GU — 
 
In the same yeaf canie Thomas Sutton with a large family from the 
 State of Ohio, who settled one mile to the soath of the Lake. There 
 were nineteen children in this frniily, and Sutton has often been heard 
 lamenting that there were not an even twenty. One child, Pat, died at 
 the age of eight years, and the wails of anguish and despair that went up 
 from the stricken household were heartrending. Shortly after the death 
 of this boy a circus came to A niboy, and Sutton with the whole family 
 on a hay-rack started for the town. When asked if he was going to the 
 show he replied, "Faas, the youngsters might die and never see a srtjcw.s." 
 They stayed to both afternoon and evening performance. Some of the 
 older Sutton boys had been llirting with "corn juice" during the day, and 
 as the evening sliow was a repetition of that of the afternoon, they hilar- 
 iously entertained the audience by proclaiming before each act what it 
 was to consist of, and to ''Vfatch sharp now and see this yer lady jump 
 through that yer hoop." 
 
 In later years the male portion of the Sutton household imbibea 
 freely, and one night at eleven o'clock two of the boys brought up at the 
 home domicile with a lumber wagon, to which were hitched a pair of 
 reeking horses, the boys having lashed them in a fury most of the way 
 from town. Sutton took them in hand a!)(l 
 gave them a great lecture on the evil of their 
 wavs. He told them tbey ought to be ashamed 
 of themselves, that they were bringing their 
 father's gray hairs— he was gray at thirty — 
 down with sorrow to the grave. He scolded 
 them off to bed, and ordered two smaller boys' 
 who had gotten up during the din to put away 
 the horses and bring "that yer." "That" 
 proved to be a gallon jug, and two hours later, 
 when Sutton called the two sodden boys from 
 their beds to fiddle for him while he danced— 
 and dance he aid till sunrise— he humbly 
 begged their pardon for having scored them so. 
 Corn was one of the flourishing products of the 
 soil, and we are thankful that under its exhil- 
 arating influence a feeling of forgiveness, if not ofxoiiM . ii j, \\;is re- 
 sultant. 
 
 In 1854 Mitchell Rosbrook came from New Hampshire with a wife 
 and six children. They were typical of those Yankees who have be^n 
 successful in preserving the new England accent, very little of the Hat, 
 
 — 3G1 — 
 
Western enunciation bcinj^: noticeal>lc in tlieir speech, even at the pres- 
 ent time. This Mitchell Rosbrook was a devout man and founrled the 
 lirst Sunday School in Harmon, it beinjj: very successfully conducted in 
 John D. Rosbrook's granary. 
 
 DuMitchell Rosbrook and his wife, above mentioned, George Stillings 
 and the Tuttles, were all born and raised at Lancaster, a wild part of 
 New England within the shadow of the White Mountains, so they had 
 been hardy pioneers before their advent to this country. Mitchell Ros- 
 brook built the first house ever built on Mt, Washington. It was built 
 for a hotel in the "Notch" of the White Mountains, and all of the wood 
 material in its construction was "packed" on the back of mules up a steep 
 and devious trail along the mountain side. They would take a few boards 
 and strap them on to each side of the mule with the rear ends of the 
 boards just touching the ground, and in this way carried the lumber for 
 miles up the mountain. It was a herculean task and required much labor 
 and even suffering on the part of Rosbrook and his wife. Tourists visited 
 the top of the mountain every summer and stopped at this mountain 
 house to get dinner. Mary Tuttle, now the wife of George Rosbrook, 
 then a girl of seventeen years, was cook at this hotel. In one day she 
 cooked one hundred dinners. Since that time several magnificent hotels 
 have been erected at this point and it has become a gxeat summer resort, 
 but the old Rosbrook house still stands and is pointed to as a landmark 
 of the pioneer days. 
 
 Mitchell Rosbrook and his family lived for two years on the farm of 
 Dr. Gardner after they came west, and then settled in Harmon. Mrs. 
 Rosbrook assisted in making the wedding outfit for a daughter of Dr. 
 Gardner, the present Mrs. James A. Ilawley. Thirty-one years later Mrs. 
 Rosbrook assisted in making some of the wedding apparel for the daughter 
 of the bride she had helped to robe before, the present Mrs. Powell of 
 Council Bluffs, the daughter of James A. and Mrs. Hawley. So Lee 
 County can point with pride to Mrs. Mitchell Rosbrook as one of the 
 pioneer women of this country, both before and after her advent here. 
 She still lives and is much respected bv all who know her, and is known 
 far and wide as "Aunt Mary." 
 
 The fiist two elections of officers of the township were held at the 
 house of Mitchell Rosbrook. Jim McManus was elected supervisor, Ros- 
 brook town clerk and George Stillings constable. The crowd gathered 
 in the morning and wrestled or pitched quoits until night. Election day 
 in Harmon has always been a day of festivities. The second year there 
 was opposition to Rosbrook by Geo. P. Weeks also running for town clerk. 
 
 — .3G2 — 
 
Mrs. Rosbrook cooked and gave a free dinner that day to all that came 
 and was rewarded by her husband being defeated for the office he was 
 so anxious to obtain. When the votes were counted at night Rosbrook 
 informed the crowd, with no inconsiderable anger, that they could after 
 that date hold their election elsewhere. 
 
 In the winter of 1856-57, Austin Balch with his wife and two children 
 came from New Hampshire. John D. Rosbrook and two sons were in 
 Dixon that day with a team, and the Balch family were taken out to 
 their relative, Israel Perkinss. On the way they became lost in a snow- 
 storm and brought up at the house of Reuben Trowbridge near Eldena. 
 Mr. Trowdridge had but recently married, and the kindness shown to 
 the careworn, homesick and heartsick Mrs. Balch and her colicky boy of 
 three years, by his sweet-faced young wife, will never fade from memory. 
 
 It was no uncommon thing to get lost on the prairies; indeed, it was 
 quite a feat to avoid it, and required much skill and no small amount of 
 practice to ride or drive five or ten miles in the night across a trackless 
 prairie and not get bewildered. One wet, foggy, Christmas night along 
 about in "60," a party of young people started to go to Mrs. Brill's to an 
 oyster supper. On the way another party tf young people were overtaken 
 who were going to the same place. At once there was a horse race, both 
 drivers lashing their horses furiously. Presently one team ran out into a 
 large slough and mired down. The boys were obliged to wade out in the 
 watei and broken ice to unhook the horses and let them plunge out as 
 best tliey could. Then they all pushed and Dulled at the wagon in con- 
 cert but could not move it. Then the girls were carried ashore— all but 
 one; she was very heavy and no one dared to attempt to carry her. A 
 council was held on the shore, while our teeth cracked together and our 
 clothing stiffened in the wintry air. Finally Henry Bremer, the strong- 
 est young man in tlie party, averred that he could carry her. He waded 
 in, seized her and struck out. When about two rods from the shore he 
 slipped on a piece of lloating ice and, realizing that he would fall, at- 
 tempted to throw her ashore— of course she "lit" in the water. The 
 wagon box was then taken off and towed ashore, the wheels taken off and 
 the wagon taken ashore in pieces. When a start was made all were be- 
 wildered and lost and at midnight they found themselves back where 
 they started from. A fresh team was hitched to the wagon and at two 
 o'clock in the morning they arrived at Brill's. Mrs. Brill had been rec- 
 ommended as a fine cook of oysters. She certainly did cook them well — 
 she began boiling them at nine o'clock in the evening and cooked them 
 until we came. 
 
 — ;}().•{ — 
 
As the saying goes, "the latchstring always hung ont." Houses were 
 not locked at night nor in the absence of the occupants. Frequently 
 the settlers on coming home after night have found a roaring Are in the 
 stove and people sitting around and enjoying it, whom perhaps the owner 
 of the dwelling had never seen. Explanations would be in order, and 
 usually it was a case of being lost on the prairie, and in wandering about 
 they had discovered the house and simply made themselves at home until 
 they could get their proper bearings for a new start. Often we would 
 hear men hallooing out on the prairie in the night, and would say to each 
 other that some one was lust. Putting the light in the windows we would 
 go out and call in return, and usually would find them; but sometimes 
 their voices would fade away, they not being able to hear us owing to the 
 direction of the wind. Some people would get lost more easily than 
 others. 
 
 There were many jokes about old man Brill being so easily lost, and it 
 was said that in going home after night he always got lost and often 
 slept in his own straw stack not far from the house; indeed, Andrew Cus- 
 tiss said that if Brill went out after a pail of water in the evening he 
 probably would not find the way back to the house, but could always 
 bring up at the straw stack. 
 
 There was a raffle for turkeys one night at Brill's, four of the players 
 putting in twenty-five cents each, making a dollar for each turkey, the 
 high man winning the fowl. After a while those not winning went home 
 by two's or three's, the winners remaining and "sawing off" with each 
 other. When they were ready to go home not a turkey was to be found, 
 those who had departed early having passed near the turkey roost. The 
 following day Brill, who was quite a hand to visit, called at a house two 
 miles away where there were eight men, aged from twenty-live to thirty, 
 '^keeping bach." They were a jovial lot of fellows, always cutting up all 
 kinds of pranks and literally "made Rome howl." When Brill arrived 
 there there were two of his turkeys in the oven and the men were prepar- 
 ing for a great feast. Knowing Brill's tendency to always open an oven 
 door so as to v. arm his feet in the oven, thev kept a man on each side of 
 the stove to fence him away. Brill sat and visited all day. They tried 
 to entice him out to the barn to show him a new liorse they had traded 
 for, but he would not budge. He still sat there and as the weather was 
 cold they had to keep up a roaring tire. They had no dinner and as no 
 preparations were made for supper, at dark Brill went home. On openinjr 
 the oven door, it is said, the turkeys were about as large as a couple of 
 jack-snipes; they were thoroughly cremated. 
 
 — 3(14 — 
 
Al)oiit this time came Patrick Groj^an witli a family of small ciiiklien. 
 Grotfan was a jovial, lazy kind of a character, brimming over with fun 
 and {food nature, and enjoyed nothing more than to play the "Arkansaw 
 Traveler" on an old three-stringed violin, while two of his barefoot chil- 
 dren danced a breakdown by the hour. Or perhaps he and his sweet- 
 faced wife, with a little child tugging at licr breast, sang old-fashioned 
 songs around the glowing embers of a fireplace in their log house. The 
 firelight, Hitting across their faces, both in sweet content, with their 
 poverty, made a sweet picture of home life and wretched happiness, if I 
 may use such a term, that will never fade from the memory of the silent 
 boy who often sat and watched them, and who as a man has often 
 wished he might exchange years of his life for part of Grogan's placidity. 
 
 Thomas Sutton also lived in a log house. In those days there were 
 royal oaks in Palestine Grove to be had by taking, or more plainly, steal- 
 ing them. Sutton's father, old Uncle Jot^ lived with him and was a 
 queer character, witli a comical Irish touch in his speech, a love of home- 
 raised tobacco in his heart, and a "showing" around his mouth. He had 
 seven mongrel dogs, all of diflerent breeds, from a small "Fice" to a 
 large, vicious female bulldosx. These dogs were always with him, and 
 followed him in any neighbor's house he clianced to visit. They were 
 a terror to the residents of the community, as well as to the cattle that 
 roamed at will on the prairie. The cattle would at times feed up near 
 to ihe growing crops, and as there were no fences, "Uncle Joe" being on 
 the watch would call, "ITer, Fice! her Tinker! yer Watch! hi, Bull! 
 you, Tige! come. Ginger! run them out o' that! Pluck them well. Tinker! 
 Pull the lugs off 'em, Watch! Put them to h-e-1-1!" the last sentence 
 ending in a high keyed shriek that we have often heard a mile away. 
 The cattle were in great terror of these dogs, and soon caiue to knew 
 that voice so well that they would raise their heads high in the air, and 
 with their tails over their backs run as if for their lives. The bulldog 
 has frequently been seen to leap up and seize the tail of an ox close to 
 the body, bite it off, carry it back and lay it at the feet of "Old Joe,'' 
 who never failed to praise the act and to gloat over the trophy. Bull 
 guarded the old man jealously, and many of the residents of the neigh- 
 borhood were bitten by her. She would never attack a person watching 
 her, but would steal around behind one, snap and spring away. She 
 was the most treacherous and vicious dog Lee county ever contained 
 She was low and heavy, of a dirty brindle color mixed with a little yel- 
 low, her tail was cut off close to her bodv, and her legs were strong and 
 very wide apart. Her head was carried low down to the ground, her eyes 
 
 — 365 — 
 
were bloudshot and never left your face, while her lips hung down, show- 
 ing a cruel set of the whitest of teeth and the blood red gums below. She 
 was always dreuling at the mouth, and her sinister look always meant 
 mischief. A person's only safety was in being pivoted so as to whirl and 
 keep her continually before him. 
 
 As the years passed other settlers came and "Uncle Joe" used to visit 
 at a house occupied by a man named Spangler, who had a house full of 
 grown sons and daughters. Delia, the eldest daughter, was housekeeper, 
 and was often provoked by "Uncle Joe" missing the ash box and spitting 
 on the stove hearth. After months of patience she declared she would 
 wash Uncle Joe's face with a dish rag the very next time he spit on that 
 hearth. Everybody laughed, nobody believed her. But one blustering 
 day when he was in the interesting part of a tight he had once had in 
 Limerick he missed the ash box, when without an instant's warning the 
 robust daughter of Spangler seized him around the neck with the left 
 arm and for about two minutes scrubbed his mouth vigorously with the 
 dish cloth. lie was white with rage but stalked away, and the last time 
 the writer saw "Uncle Joe" was on that darkest of days for the nation— 
 when standing on the north bank of the Lake, his voice raised so that he 
 was heard distinctly nearly half a mile away, he devoutly thanked God, 
 again and again, that "Owld Abe Lincoln" was shot. Such was the dif- 
 ference of opinions even here in our Lee county. 
 
 In 1856-57 settlers came tliick and fast. Joseph Julien, a bmther of 
 Antone and John Julien, settled a mile to the southwest. At threshing 
 time Mrs. Antone Julien always came from Dixon to assist in cocking fop 
 the threshers, and the wonderful meals this lady prepared were the talk 
 of the neighborhood. The threshing time at Joe's was always looked 
 forward to with keen delight by about a half dozen of us hungry young- 
 sters who loved her sweet, gentle manner even more than her cooking, 
 and each one was sure of a recognition from this sweet faced woman. 
 And to this day the writer never meets her or walks by her home without 
 a feeling of glad thankfulness for the sunshine she scattered along the 
 way, so lasting are intlueiices in our early life. 
 
 E. A. Batch, C. IT. Seifken, Israel Perkins and James Porter, with 
 their families, and George Stillings, Charles Carby, "Yankee" Tuttle and 
 others were amonu the early settlers. 
 
 Two brilliant young men, accustomed to good cociety and luxurious 
 homes, with some money, but no knowledge of farming, came from the 
 city of Boston to make their fortunes in the new 'Eldorado." They 
 (luickly became the prey of the neighborhood, and many of the spavined, 
 
 — 366 — 
 
worthless horses and unruly oxen were tethered around their place on 
 Sunday, and usually sold to them at large prices. John D. Rosbrocjk olten 
 lectured them for being so easily separated I'rotn their money, and cau- 
 tioned them again and again not to deal with certain unscrupulous 
 neighbors. Owing to their want of knowledge of farnjing their crops 
 were a failure, and in the fall they were obliged to send home for money 
 to return with. They abandoned the house and land, which was known 
 for years as the "Pioston"' house. 
 
 Henry and Louis Isles, the sons of a very wealthy German family of 
 New York city, were taken from the study of a classic course at home 
 and sent here to learn to farm, and to harden their muscles with rugged 
 work. Both were graceful and courteous in behavior, and their tine con- 
 versational powers left with us a sweet remembrance of them in after 
 years. They worked by the month for John D. Rosbrook, and manfully 
 stood up to what to them must have seemed herculean tasks, while their 
 blistered hands often gave us the heartache. One summer linished their 
 apprenticeship. 
 
 One mile to the east lived, for a year, the Robinson family. Mcses 
 Dillon, the now flourishing business man of Sterling, was a stepson or 
 iNIr. Robinson. ''Mose," a little fellow in checked aprons, spent many of 
 his hours at the Lake farm: and Mary, the wife of George Rosbrook, 
 often gave him cookies to pick up chips for her. "Mose" told the writer 
 not long since, that he had traveled wide, and eaten many toothsome 
 dishes, but no morsel ever passed his lips that was as good as Mary's 
 cookies. lie showed the same ability in picking up chips as in his busi- 
 ness career. Even in that early age "Mose'' was a "hustler." 
 
 Sammy Robinson, a nephew of Mr. Robinson, taught (jur country 
 school. He was very small, about five feet high, and weighed, it would 
 seem to me, about eighty pounds. At the breaking out of the war he 
 went into the army and was pushed through to the front. One day in 
 summer a party of twelve soldiers were sent out foraging, and donning 
 anything but the army blue, they passed boldly into tlie Confederate lines. 
 Coming to a railroad track they followed it for miles, when on turning a 
 sharp curve tliey found themselves in the midst of about a hundred con- 
 federate soldiers loadirig ties onto a railroad train. They at once went to 
 work assisting in loading tics. The overseer of the squad grnllly asked 
 what they were doing here. The leader answered, "Detailed to help; 
 tills work must be pushed.'' With no conversation, but all senses on the 
 alert, the northern soldiers watched each other. During the work, at a 
 signal from the leader, they suddenly took possession of the train. Some 
 
 — 3()7 — 
 
started the engine and the rest fouj^lit the confederates off so they should 
 not board the train. The train was run norUiward a few miles and then 
 it was stopped while the boys placed ties on the track behind it in such a 
 numner as to ditch the followin^^ train. lUit the train in pursuit was run 
 by a fellow with nerves of steel, and, never hesitating at these obstruc- 
 tions, his train kept the rails, knocking the ties like kindling wood from 
 tl c track. In the chase the captured engine was run into another squad 
 of confederate men. The engine was abandoned and a break made for 
 liberty: but they were captured, and Sammy Ilol)indon with the rest of 
 the twelve suffered- for this foolhardy trick by being hung by the neck 
 until they were dead. A history of this escapade has previously been 
 published. I have simply brought it in here to show that one of this 
 party was a former resident of Harmon. 
 
 In those days Dixon was our market town, all farm products were 
 hauled there. Between our settlement and Dixon were several sloughs, 
 one of which was a terror to us, and was ki.own as the "big slough." It 
 was more than half a mile wide with water nearly all the way across, and 
 a deep plunge in the middle, where we always expected to get stuck in 
 the mud. Carefully looking back to that time, I cannot remember an 
 instance in which we were disappointed. 
 
 On the Fourth of July two of the R()sl)rook l)oys started for Dixon at 
 daybreak with two yoke of oxen and a small load of hay. They had been 
 three days in cutting the grass with a scythe and raking it up with a 
 hand rake. Wiicn crossing the big slough the wagon settled to the hub, 
 and the oxen mired down. Most of the hay had to be pitched off before 
 the oxen could draw the wagon out. They arrived in Dixon at 2:00 o'clock 
 in the afternoon and sold what hay they had left for seventy-five cents. 
 They started for home at 4:00 o'clock, their conversation touching but 
 lightly on patriotism. Indeed, as it is now remembered, they considered 
 Washington's act in saving the country rather insignificant, and in 
 regard to their locality, wholly unnecccssary. We had often heard Lyman 
 Rosbrook, who had lived in Lee Center many years before this time, tell 
 of the hardships experienced by the early settlers in hauling grain to 
 Chicago, but we doubted if their trials were any greater than were expe- 
 rienced years afterwards in the shorter haul to Dixon. 
 
 Prices of farm produce were low in the early days; eggs, four cents a 
 dozen; butter, six cents a pound. Thomas Sutton once hauled two loads 
 of an excellent quality of barley to Sterling. Tiie buyers offered eight 
 cents per bushel for it. Mr. Sutton not being satisfied with the offer 
 hauled it to Dixon, where, after being at the expense of staying all night 
 
 — 368 — 
 
he sold the barley for six cents a bushel. Whiskey was ten cents a gallon, 
 and other— so called— necessities were correspondingly low. Whether or 
 not those were "Free Trade" times, the writer is not prepared to sttte— 
 but pardon me; this was in the days of Buchanan. 
 
 Game of all kinds was very plentiful from 1855 to 1875. Charles K. 
 Shellhammer has shot in one day, one hundred j,'eese (a farm wa^'on box 
 full). Kipp, a hunter from Dixon, shot sixty-six Mallard ducks at one 
 Hhot. A drove of thirteen deer were chased by men on horse back by our 
 place one day, and five of them killed after a r^-.n of several miles, but a 
 pair of beautiful sorrel horses belonging' to George Stillings were ruined 
 in the chase. 
 
 This George Stillings was a great wrestler and quite a good jig dancer. 
 He was so fond of dancing that a quick tune would at any time or place 
 bring him to his feet for a break-down. He wandered away, and our 
 neighborhood entirely lost track of him for more than thirty years. One 
 evening, since the commencement of this article, there walked into our 
 liouse a short, strong man, elderly, and gray as a rat. It was Stillings. 
 Two of my sons now grown to early manhood were playing a mandolin 
 and a guitar. They soon str-jck into "Money Musk," and then the "Devil's 
 Dream." At the slightest hint from me Stillings, despite his sixty years 
 of rugged life, was on his feet, and danced as lightly and airily as of yore 
 to the great delight of my family. 
 
 Ferris Finch, Wellington Davis, Jerome ITollenbeck and Lon Ilerrick 
 often came out on the prairie hunting, and usually made their head- 
 quarters at the farm by the lake. We have known them to shoot in one 
 day two hundred and llfty prairie chickens, many of them being shot from 
 the carriage as they were driving over the prairie. One day after dinner 
 Wellington Davis, who had drunk most of the milk punch that he had 
 l)rewed for the crowd, was still sitting in i,he house by tlie punch bowl; 
 Ferris Finch drew the charges of shot from Davis' gun when the latter 
 was not looking, and then offered to bet hmi a dollar that he could not 
 shoot two swallows in succession as they were Hying around overhead. 
 Davis, who was game and a crack shot, immediuteljf accepted the chal- 
 lenge. The sight he presented in whirling round the yard (one leg being 
 about six inches shorter than the other), endeavoring to get aim, was 
 very ludicrous. lie, of course, missed both shots and immediately handed 
 over the dollar, but he then wanted to wager ten that he could shoot the 
 next two. The explosions of laughter that followed convinced him that 
 his gun had been tampered with and he offered to whip Ferris Finch, to 
 the great amusement of Ilerrick and Jlollenbeck, who were lying on the 
 grass shouting with laughter. 
 
 — 3G9 — 
 
In 1867 an insane woman wanderer! from near where Walton is out 
 into tlie swamps and was lost. Durip.g the winter several hunting par" 
 ties W3re organized to hunt for her. In those days everyhody possessed 
 or borrowed a good saddle horse. There were many expert riders and fleet 
 horses in the vicinity. Shortly after the start, one day in February, a 
 wolf was sighted, and everybody cut loose for a run. Within a mile all 
 gave up but two horsemen. In three miles the wolf disappeared in the 
 tall grass and some deer tracl<s were discovered. Tliese were followed 
 several miles, when by certain signs we knew we were close to the quarry, 
 and rightly conjectured tliat the deer were in some heavy swamp grass 
 half a mile to the westward. 
 
 The saddle ijirths were tightened, couversaiidti was held in whispers, 
 while the horses rubbed their noses together, pricked up tlieir ears and 
 gazed excitedly toward tlie tall marsh grass, and pranced aiDUiid over tlie 
 snow. The mare nipped at the ear of the stalwart gelding, who stood 
 out in bold relief against the fast approaching sunset. lie seemed as if 
 carved in stone, but the play of his muscles beneath the surface gave 
 token that he understood the nature of our preparations and was anxious 
 for the fray. 
 
 Then we mounted, and with tightly grasped rein, they were sent like 
 a ball from the cannon's mouth straight to the westward, and the two 
 best running horses in tluit part of Lee county were exerting every nerve 
 and sinew to push their nuses past each other, when about forty rods 
 ahead of us, out of the long swamp grass, sprang nine deer. To those 
 who have never «een wild leer run tlie sight is indescribable. They 
 leaped up from the ground twenty feet and appeared, from a short dist- 
 ance, to come down where they went up; but really they covered a dist- 
 ance of trom thirty to thirty-eight feet at each bound. They went up 
 with head, legs and flanks stretched to the utmo: t; not a muscle moved 
 while in the air, and it gave them the appearance of a flving squirrel or a 
 great monstrous bat. They were dark brown as they went up showing 
 the back and head and stiffened legs; they were white as tliey came 
 down, showing the under side of the body only. They leaped in ditTerent 
 directions, and as some went up while others were coming down from 
 those terriflc bounds, the sight was tlirilling and awe inspiring. And 
 afterwards, when riding at bare-neck speed, right in among them and 
 close up to a monstrous buck that was perfectly frantic with fear and 
 desperation, it become not only exciting but very dangerous. 
 
 It was an experience that but few people will ever have; a siglit tluit 
 only the great minority will ever view; and the remembrance of that 
 
 — 370 — 
 
thrilling chase will never fade from the rulnds of the two riders who rode 
 at such a terrific clip across the bogs and snow, in the Winnebago swamps 
 near Palestine. George Berlin succeeding in icilling a fine buck after a 
 hard chase for miles,— the only drier captured that day. Berlin was rid- 
 ing a race horse valued at tliree hundred dollars, belonging to Charles 
 Sheilhammer. After that day he was worth about lifly dollars; but Ber- 
 lin was more fariious than General (irant. 
 
 The woman was found the next spring, Ijy the cattle in the large herds 
 bellowing and pawing around the place where she lay. 
 
 The herding of cattle in those latter days was a great industry; some 
 herds contained as many as three thousand head of cattle. The charge 
 was about a dollar and a half per head during the season. The expense 
 was simply the hire of two men to guard them. 
 
 Sandhill cranes were more plentiful than bees among the clover blos- 
 soms, and it was not an uncommon sight to see a thousand acres covered 
 with them. Their playful antics were interesting and auiusing: they 
 would gather in squads of four or five, form a square, or nearly so, about 
 six feet from each other. The old, or gander crane would utter their 
 peculiar plaintiff call, when all would leap from the earth about six feet, 
 bounding over and under each other, and all calling their Icudest, while 
 each tried to get the place occupied by some other. A veritable "Pussy 
 wants a corner," as we see the children play it now. A sandhill crane 
 stands nearly as high as a man; its color is a bluish gray. When gather- 
 ing in large bands in the fall, preparatory to migrating, their appearance 
 was like that of a large drove of sheep. They came in the autumn and 
 usually remained two or three weeks. One day early in the fall, when 
 only a few cranes had been noted Hying away up in the air— a crane will 
 soar to a height to which an eagle never goes, and will stay up an hour 
 without a movement of the wings— the younger llosbrook boy, then 
 quite small, heard a crane calling and knew by the sound that it was in 
 a melon patch in the middle of a cornfield. Softly stealing through the 
 corn, he spied near the opening tiie head oi a crane and knew by its 
 attitude that it was alarmed and about to lly away. Witli careful aim at 
 its head, the only part visible, he pulled the trigger and took a couple of 
 somersaults, as he always did when he shot that gun. Gathering himself 
 up he was mystified to see the crane fly away. He couUI not understand 
 it, as he knew the aim was good, and former experience had taught him 
 that every thing went down before that gun when the aim was right. 
 He went over to the melon patch before starting home, and there in their 
 death struggle, were three cranes! one of them shot through the head; 
 Jihere had been four of them in the flock, and three of them in line. 
 
 — 371 — 
 
Wolves were fleet of foot and could niti away from the fastest horse 
 or doy. But George Rosbrook, when riding "Little l>iily,"a famed sad- 
 dle lu)rse, after cattle one day. saw and gave chase to a wolf, which after 
 a hard run, he succeeded in killing, with no other weapon than an iron 
 stirrup, swung by the stirrup strap. 
 
 At one time on the Rosbrook farm at the Lake there was a tame 
 crane, a coon and a v/olf. The crane had ])een found when small on the 
 prairie. The coon and the wolf were captured when small, and were 
 from litters that were dug out from holes in the ground. 
 
 All of these pets showed iheir ingratitude. The crane Hew aw-iy, and 
 the wolf began catching tame chickens and was chained in the yard. One 
 day Mary, the wife of George Rosbrook, took some scraps that were left 
 from the table out to the wolf. After eating part of the food he went 
 inside his kennel and lay with his head between his paws, watching the 
 chickens as they came near to pick up the crumbs. Suddenly he spran^r 
 out and caught three of them at once. Mary who was watching from the 
 door, ran out to save the chicks. Grasi)ing the wolf by the neck, she 
 choked him until his jaws relaxed and the chickens dropped out; but 
 they were quite dead. As she released the wolf, she was rewarded by his 
 biting her (luite through the hand. Tlie coon had been busy for the past 
 month tearing down corn at niglit and eating the young roasting ears. 
 During the day he was the meekest and best behaved coon in the world, 
 but at night he would make as much noise tearing down corn as a suiall 
 drove of cattle. And so the wolf and coon both went one day to lielp 
 swell "Forepaugh's Great Consolidated Show." 
 
 In 185G, five thousand head of immense Texan steers were driven past 
 our house on their way to Cliicago; the summer had been consumed on the 
 drive. Many of them would measure seven feet from tip to tip of horns. 
 Near the lake the owner turned them into a tine field of corn of one hun- 
 dred and sixty acres, and then calmly rode off to find the owner and 
 bought the entire crop at the settler's figure. It 1857 two thousand very 
 large, fat hogs were driven past our place toward the southwest. Tlie 
 owner claimed to have bought them in Milwaukee and was driving them 
 to Missouri, which we thought a strange proceeding. 
 
 I would like, if it, were not encroacliing, to mention some of the early 
 days of Dixon, the days of "Rough and Ready." Hiram Ruff, nick-named 
 "Rough and Ready," was a queer character. II(! was small, wiry and 
 quick, and a genuine sport. 
 
 In those days Myron Rryson frequently drove the omnibus for the car- 
 rying of passengers from the Nachusa house to the depot. "Rough and 
 
 — 372 — 
 
Ready" had a fruit stand where Boltzcnthal's cigar store now is. llrysort 
 would say something to him which always seemed to anger him and old 
 "Rough" would throw apples at the driver from the time the omnibus 
 came iu sight until it turned the corner, jumping up and down on the 
 sidewalk and yelling with rage in the meantime. Indeed, the rattle of 
 'hus coming down the street was a signal for all of thesm<»ll boys to spread 
 out in fan-shape from where Edward's coal ollice now is around to Man- 
 gus' feed shed and "take in" the apnles on the fly, as they came sailing 
 through the air. Apples were very scarce in those days, and "Old 
 Rough" usually threw away about a peck every time the 'bus went by. 
 
 Intending to conflnc my remarks to Harmon I ask pardon for this 
 digression. 
 
 I am warned by the accumulated manuscript before me that no in- 
 considerable space will be occupied in its pul)lication. If the twenty odd 
 towns in Lee county contribute as voluminously your book will ceitainly 
 have the advantage of immensity. Before laying my pen aside I wish to 
 offer an apology. Doubtless many persons are left out who are deserving 
 of mention. In other places errors as to dates may have crept in. There 
 are paragraphs that may reflect slightly on some persons particularly 
 mentioned. To those I humbly apologize, and add that in my heart I 
 have only the feeling of "good will to all." 
 
 C. J. ROSBKOOK. 
 
 ONE OK THE I'lONEEK FAKMEUS. 
 
?ToWii5Bnp oj^ pee (?eT2'ter. 
 
MRS. ADOLPHOS BLISS. 
 
Lee GeT2iLer. 
 
 IT will be be obvious to anyone at a glance that God has not made any 
 such thing as a complete remembrance of past ages possible. lie 
 writes oblivion against all but a few names and things, and empties 
 the world to give freer space for what is to come." 
 
 In writing a sketch of this particular part of God's heritage we have 
 drawn largely upon the memories of the oldest settlers, their sons and 
 daughters, for stories which contain all the fascination of personal exper- 
 ience and personal encounter. 
 
 We have striven for accuracy in dates and locality, without which his- 
 tory is but driftwood in the tide of events. In our search for ancient 
 landmarks we hope not to be so entirely surpassed as was a certain Eng- 
 lish gentleman who was boasting to a Yankee that they had a book in 
 the British museum which was owned by Cicero. "Oh, that's nothing,'' 
 retorted the Yankee, "in the museum in Bosting, they've got the lead 
 pencil that Noah used to check off the animals that went into the ark.', 
 
 When our grandparents raked the ashes over the glowing coals upon 
 their hearthstones, and retired to dream of the sons who had gone to the 
 new country to make for themselves a home, they could not then realize 
 what a garland of honor already encircled their heads, or what a sceptre 
 of power awaited their hands, for we hold that he who makes the oppor- 
 tunity of discovery possible to another, himself refraining from the grat- 
 ification thereof, justly deserves the conqueror's meed. All honor then 
 to those who "remained by the stuff" and kept the hearthstone warm 
 and bright for those on the frontier. 
 
 It is with pleasure that we present the name and face of Mrs. Adol- 
 phus Bliss to the readers of this sketch. She was ninetv-three years of 
 age on Valentine's day, the 14th of February, 189.3. She. with her hus- 
 band, settled in what is Lee Center township today, in May, 1834— the 
 first white woman in the present township and the second white woman 
 in the county. Here she lived one year before she had a neighbor nearer 
 than Dixon. Our informant, her son, Mr. Volney Bliss, says "We have 
 
 — 370 — 
 
lived in three counties witliout moving?," referring to the tliree names, 
 Jo Davies, Ogle and Lee, which'havci'been given this countv- 
 
 Near Mr. Bliss' home two hundred red men were in camp, awaiting 
 payment and the repairing of their guns before their westward march. 
 John Fosdick was a blaclcsmith and gunsmith and was employed by the 
 government to repair their guns. These Indians were peaceal)ly inclined, 
 but nevertheless they must have struclc terror to the hearts of many a 
 woman by appearing in the most unexpected manner. One of the early 
 settlers, Mrs. Ira Brewer, was sitting alone in her log cabin one day when 
 suddenly the window was darkened and looking up she saw Indian faces 
 crowded so thickly together that the light was entirely obscured. 
 Another one, Mrs. Lewis Clapp, was frying doughnuts in her kitchen 
 when a numler of Indians with their chief walked in and ranged them- 
 selves around the wall. The woman did not scream, she greeted tliem 
 with a calm exterior, finished frying her cakes— I imagine it did not take 
 long— and then proceeded to pass them. But the chief relieved her of 
 this hospitality by deliberately emptying the entire panfnll into his 
 blanket. 
 
 These flrst settlers realized another's need as their own, and protected 
 or respected the rights of each other at the peril of life sometimes. Of 
 course there were exceptions to the rule, where individuals allowed the 
 desire for possession to rule them, else, the need of an association for the 
 adjustment of claims, callea "The Gro^e Association." would have been 
 unnecessary. Mr. Ira Brewer kindly furnished me with the original doc- 
 uments of this association. We handled the worn and yellowed papers 
 with exceeding care, for they embodied the very nucleus round which our 
 laws enwrap themselves. 
 
 Dated, Inlet, Ogle Co., 111., July 10, 18:57. We read the following pre- 
 amble. 
 
 "The encouragement which Congress gave to the pioneers of this 
 country stimulated the present inhabitants to sacriflceipropcrty and ease 
 and commence a long and fatiguing journey in order to better themselves 
 and their offspring; not only the fatigue of a long and expensive journey, 
 but the privations to which they were exposed in consequence of the 
 scarcity of the comforts of life and the exposure to the inclemency of the 
 weather in an open log cabin. Everything considered, we think it no 
 more than right, just and honorable that each man should hold a reason- 
 able claim, and at the land sales obtain his lands at Congress' price. 
 
 'Therefore, We, the subscribers, feel willing to come under any rules 
 and regulations that are warranted by honor and piinciple in regard to 
 our honest claims. 
 
 — 380— 
 
'■'■ Therefore, Wc establish a few rules and regulations whereby we may 
 be governed on principles of eciuity." 
 
 This preamble is followed by seven Articles wherel)y the «ociety should 
 be governed, and a long list of names, some of them almost illegible. 
 
 A few years later an "Association for the Furtherance of the Cause 
 of Justice," was organized. We note a "cast iron constitution," includ- 
 ing instructions to a "Committee of Vigilance." which malces it evident 
 these were perilous times in the history of the county. In the spring of 
 1836, the lirst sermon was preached by Peter Cartwright, "the bacliwoods 
 preacher," at Mr. Dewej's house. A Methodist preacher ;n those days 
 when he felt that God had called him to preach, instead of hunting up a 
 college, or Biblical Institute, hunted up a hardy pony and some traveling 
 apparatus, and with his library always at hand, namely: the Bible, Hymn 
 Book and Discipline, lie started, and with a text that never wore out nor 
 grew stale he cried "Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins 
 of the world." In this way he went through storms of wind, hail, snow 
 and rain; plunged through swamps, swam swollen streams, layout all 
 night, wet, weary and hungry, held his horse by the bridle all night or 
 tied him to a limb, slept with his saddle blanket for a bed, his saddle for 
 a pillow, and his old big coat or blanket, if he had any, for a covering. 
 Often he slept in dirty cabins, on earthen floors before the Are; drank 
 butter-milk for coflee, or sage tea for Imperial, partook with hearty zest 
 of deer or bear meat, or wild turkey, for breakfast, dinner and supper, if 
 he could get it. This was old fashioned Methodist preacher fare and 
 fortune, so says Peter Cartwright himself. 
 
 During the summer of '36 there was occasional preaching in Inlet, and 
 the first Methodist class was organized with John Fosdick leader. In 
 the spring of 1837 Mr. Davia Tripp and family, al&o his brother-in-law. 
 Orange Webster, settled in Inlet. Mr. Tripp was the first Baptist in the 
 
 town, and soon the first Baptist minister with the name of Iletler 
 
 followed. Then one Turtillock and these two came occasionally 
 
 and preached in Mr. Tripp's house, until Mr. Tripp built a new barn. 
 This was dedicated with a protracted meeting in which a large number 
 were converted. The Baptist church was organized with Mr. Webster 
 as deacon and Mr. Tripp clerk. They held meetings regularly at Mr. 
 Tripp's place until a school house was built near the Dewey mill. The 
 "circuit rider" for this district would come from the east and go west, 
 taking about two weeks to complete his circuit. He was a young married 
 man by the name of Smith. His stopping place in Inlet was at Mr. 
 Dewey's. Here he was taken ill, and lived but a few dajs— there was 
 
 — 381 — 
 
no physician in Lcc county then. On the night of his death two families 
 arrived from New Yorlc and toolc up their abode in the Tripp liouse. 
 Mr. Birdsall, who came in the fall of '37, occupied a room in the Tripp 
 house— and his sons-in-law, Rev. Luke Ilitchcoclc and Oscar F. Ayres, 
 found shelter under the same hospitable roof; so the Rev. Luke Hitch- 
 cock preached the first funeral sermon in the town of Lee Center over 
 the remains of this young circuit rider. He was buried near Mr. Darius 
 Sawyer's preseno home where a stone still marks his grave. 
 
 One can Imagine how gladly a regularly licensed physician would be 
 welcomed in a community where sickness and death had made inroads, 
 and when Dr. R. F. Adams arrived in 1837 to stay the people breathed 
 more freely. Then came a physician by the name of Hubbard— but only 
 for a year, and Dr. Welch, now of Galesburg, followed' Dr. Charles 
 Gardner came at an early date and was held in high esteem throughout 
 the county. The story is told that on the night of the arrival of Dr. 
 Gardner and the Rev. D'Wolf at the Tripp house, there was (luite a 
 stir in the family, for professional gentlemen were much needed on these 
 prairies. Tne guess was passed from one to another as to which was the 
 "Rev." and which the "Dr." The unanimous decioion was in favor of 
 Dr. Gardner as the Reverend. When the truth was known a general 
 laugh ensued in which the newly arrived joined as heartily as any. 
 The first building occupied for a store stood on the ground where David 
 Tripp's Grout-house stood, then the building was pold to Mr. George 
 Haskell, who moved it nearer to Inlet creek, where it stood several years, 
 when it was moved to the town of Lee Center and occupied for some 
 years by Joseph Cary. The pioneer teacher was Miss Ann Chamberlin 
 who in the summer of '36 occupied a room in Mr. Adolphus Bliss' house 
 for that purpose. After this a log school house was built near Mr. Bliss 
 house in which Mr. Oils Timothy taught. This gentleman is now living 
 at Franklin Grove and from the pen of his wife we learn that Mr T. 
 taught nearly three months in the winter of '37-38. That he boarded 
 round, receiving $15 per month, having 20 or 25 pupils in attendance. 
 
 In gathering items in regard to the early school teachers, wc find 
 that the first were invariably women. 
 
 All honor to her who led the van in educational interests; with what 
 cost of trial and patience and soul weariness, none can estimate. 
 
 Among the name of old settlers we find the name of Mr. Roswell 
 Streeter, and from the pen of his son, A. G. Streeter, we have the follow- 
 ing: "My faiher made a claim on the land on which Lee Center is situ- 
 ated in the year 1833. In the following year we moved from Allegheny 
 
 — 382 — 
 
county, New York, to near the claim and built a \o\i house in the ed^e of 
 Inlet Grove, where we found some protection from the winter storms. I 
 was then 13 years old and the eldest of seven hoys. Father improved the 
 claim of 160 acres, and in after years when the ^'overnment survey 
 had been made, and the land offered for sale at the land office in Dixon, 
 he entered the same. Later on father sold that part on which Lee 
 Center now stances, and gave a portion more, (the amount I do not re- 
 member) for the erection and maintenance of an academy. One or two 
 years before these transactions! had left Lee Center for Galesburg, where 
 I had l)een told there was a Normal labor school or college where a young 
 man could wonc his way through without money. I found that the labor 
 department was not in working order, in fact it never was. On arriving 
 in Galesburg I had thirteen dollars, and this with willing hands backed 
 by strength, energy and a determined will to succeed, was all I had. It 
 was enough, for I was ready to do whatever I could find to do. So I set 
 up the business of making shingles with a froe and drawing knife. The 
 bolts, shingle length, were sawn off the tree; with froe and maul, split to 
 the proper thickness, then with shaving knife cut down to the proper 
 taper. Many and manv a day I fixed my school books up before me to 
 get my lessons while at work. 
 
 I well remember the first school house and the time it was built in the 
 old Inlet Grove. It was in the edge of the timber, and pretty well 
 bidden from view by a hazel thicket on Mr. Bliss' land. Geo. E. Haskell 
 teacher. T'was made of logs, cracks chinked and filled with mud, floor 
 of split logs, flre place on one side, chimney out side made of rough stone, 
 and split logs for seats. "We lived a mile away, through the grove part 
 way. We hud to cross a small creek on the way with no bridge. When- 
 ever the creek was over the banks, I would pull off shoes and wade 
 through, then on to school, holding my book before me to make up for 
 lost time. For Mr. Haskell had promised the one who "left off head" the 
 most times during ihe term, fifty cents. I attended school two winter 
 •luarters before leaving for Galesburg. In 1849 I drove an ox team in 
 company with others to California, remained there in the mines eighteen 
 months. After that took two droves of cattle to California to market. 
 In 1855 I returned and bought land near where I now live and settled 
 down to farming and stock raising." 
 
 Mr. Streeter has been successful in business, at the same time has 
 kept posted in the affairs of the general government and of the state. 
 He has served in four sessions of the state legislature, both house and 
 senate. Has been candidate for congress, governor and president on a 
 minority ticket. 
 
 — 385 — 
 
"A typical old sett'er," who proves to be Mr. Charles Ingals, came to 
 Lee Center in 1836. He was a Yankee, born among the New England 
 hills, upon a farm settled and tilled by four generations of ancestors. 
 After the death of their parents, half a dozen brothers and sisters of the 
 family went west, although the traditional advice to do so had not then 
 been published. The subject of our sketch lived more than tlfty years 
 on the territory which he selected for a home, called at that time Pales- 
 tine Grove, Ogle county, but now Lee Center, Lee county. Mr. Ingals 
 who modestly speaks of himself in the third person, says: "The young 
 man located, and without experience, council or cash, borrowed an ax, 
 and the long fought battle of the prairies began. A cabin home was 
 erected in two weeks, without the sound of a hammer or sight of a nail, 
 that did good service for ten years. That cabin was made especially 
 pleasant for two years through the efticiency and kindness of a well- 
 beloved sister. A marriage alliance was then negotiated and solemnized 
 without any undue nonsense and the bride and groom began a novel 
 wedding journey of which an account is given by Mrs. Ingals a few pages 
 farther on. 
 
 In those early times transportation and Loam work was done mostly 
 by oxen. 
 
 As winter approached (the first winter north) these cattle became 
 home-sick and strayed, often going south, to their former homes among 
 the stock fields and corn cribs of Egypt— they having been brought from 
 Southern Illinois. One morning our "typical old settler" found the last 
 hoof of stock he owned was gone! No cow was left to furnish milk, no 
 ox to haul fuel. The owner pursued on foot and was gone six weeks be- 
 fore reaching home again with those indispensable animals. Theground 
 was thickly covered with snow, prairies bleak, and the weather intensely 
 cold. Today it seems strange that a man would foot it 500 miles under 
 such circumstances for a few head of cattle. The reason was simple and 
 plain— he had to have 'em. His familv, knowing nothing of his where- 
 abouts welcomed him as one from the dead. 
 
 Mr. Ingals in speaking of his chase after his cattle, reminds us of a 
 story told by one of the old settlers concerning another. 
 
 "I was eating breakfrst when 1 heard a man calling from the street. 
 It proved to be Squire Robinson, from Mclugin's Grove and he was in- 
 quiring if we had seen any cattle. He had missed them when he first 
 went out in the morning, and started without his hat in. pursuit, and he 
 continued to pursue until he reached Dixon, still without a hat. I hope 
 someone appreciated his energetic pursuit of knowledge— no cattle, and 
 presented him with a good, substantial hat. 
 
 — 384 — 
 
DR. EPHRAIM INGALL8. 
 
MRS. EPHRAIM INGALLS. 
 
Next in order comes a letter from Mrs. C. F. Ingalls giving an account 
 of their wedding tour, of which she says, "It was so pleasant that even 
 then I could have turned about and repeated it with pleasure." We give 
 her story in her own words, and she begins: 
 
 "September (i, 18;J8, I was married and left my native town in \'erniont 
 for a new home in Illinois. 
 
 "We had a cme-horse wagon— buggies not h»ving come much into use 
 there— in which were two trunks and some smaller baggage: the trunks 
 were not Saratogas, but contained our wearing apparel. A journey of 
 1,000 miles lay before us. With constantly new and changing scenery, 
 delightful and invigorating air, the trip was pleasant and enjoyable. 
 Spent one week with friends in Indiana and arrived at our future home 
 October 12. Then commenced the new e:(perience of housekeeping and 
 farm life in a log cabin 13x15 feet inside, with "loft" in which three cor- 
 ners were occupied by beds and one by a ladder (for stairs). Below was 
 a bed, cookstove, cupboard, small sink(or washstand), table, bureau, with 
 chairs and benches needful for a family of six. A sister-in-law, who had 
 been the previous housekeeper, was visiting u? with her affianced, who 
 were intending to marry and go east in the spring. In February we 
 were visited by an aunt and her son-in-law from Ottawa. The proposi- 
 tion was made that the wedding should take place at that time. A mes- 
 senger was dispatched to the county seat for a license and clergyman. 
 High water prevented his reaching the county clerk, so the license- could 
 not be procured. Our visitors then proposed that we all return with 
 them and the ceremony be performed at their house. Hasty preparations 
 were made. Flouring mills at Dayton being not far from Ottawa, three 
 or four sacks of wheat were put up to take to have ground or exchanged 
 for flour, and a company of six started. The snow was gone, frost not 
 out of the ground enough to make the roads very soft, and the weather 
 dull. About six miles brought us to the first creek, which was much 
 swollen, and the question arose how it could be crossed. Our friend had 
 a span of large horses which were unhitched, the sacks of grain placed 
 upon their backs and swam across, then rehitched and the party ferried 
 over, somehow, without getting wet. One or two other streams were 
 crossed, after which the aunt proposed changing seats with one of the 
 other party. The lot fell upon myself, and 1 rode with our visitor. It was 
 probably the middle of the afternoon when he said to the others: "I will 
 leave the road and strike across the prairie, which will be shorter, and get 
 home to tell my v^ife that she prepare for the company." The others 
 kept the road. The fog soon became so dense that we could sec nothing 
 
 — 389 — 
 
at any distance. The wind was an uncertain guide. We rode on and on 
 until night and no indication of any liabitation. At length, finding we 
 were only going round and round in a circle we stopped, not knowing 
 which way to go. There was a good moon and though foggy it was not 
 dark. An umbrella protected us from the mist and it was not cold. 
 When morning came we could see where the sun rose, and starting again, 
 found ourselves but a short distance from the road and reached our desti- 
 nation about ten o'clock. The wedding came oflf the evening of the same 
 day, and the adventure caused much merriment. We returned to our 
 home in a few days. The newly wedded couple (Dr. R. L. Adams and 
 Deborah Ingais) left us in March for Vermont, but returned after a time 
 to Lee County. Our cabin being near the main road north and south we 
 often entertained travelers and had some pleasant experiences in that 
 way. Another incident occurred the next winter, I think in February. 
 One cold stormy afternoon a man came in for help to get a load out of a 
 little creek about two miles distant, where it was stuck fast in trying to 
 cross. My husband asked him to wait until the storm was over and bo 
 would help hiiii, to which he readily assented. A fi'iend from Princeton 
 was visiting me at the time and as a natural thing 1 had tried to have a 
 good supper that evening of chicken and such vegetables as we had. All 
 was on the table and we were about sitting down when a step jarred the 
 puncheon lloor, one leg slijijied into a large crack, and down went one 
 corner, dislies, supper and ailin a heap. Whether anything but dishes 
 was saved T do not renieml)er, but know another meal was cooked. The 
 event bad passed out (»f mini! and vv;is recalled years aftei' l)y a neighl)()r. 
 who heard the man that stopped for help relate it where slie was visiting 
 in anotlier town. 
 
 ]n those early days neigliboi'-; had no prescribed bounds, and roads 
 were not fenced, driving eigiit or ten miles to nrake a social visit was no 
 uncommon thing. If a minister stopped in the vicinity word was at 
 once sent around, the people would gatlier at some place and have service. 
 Many enjoya])Ie a,nd prontal)le laeetings were held in different cat ins. 
 Time passed, the population increased, also labor and care, which in a 
 measure restricted the old, free intercourse. Schools and churches were 
 established. Y( ung people grew up, married and scatteied, some to 
 build homes in other new places, some to the city to enter various avo. 
 cations of life. Generations have come and gone. The ranks of old 
 settlers are depleted until very few are left to l)e interested in the great 
 enterprise now absorbing so much attention. 
 
 A brother, Dr. Ephraim Ingais, also well Ivuown and highly esteemed 
 
 — 390 — 
 
in Lee county, sends us from his beautiful Clilcago hon^e, with pictures 
 of himself and wife, the following- interesting story of pioneer days. 
 
 In the autumn of 1832, my eldest brothers, Plenry and Addison, next 
 older than myself, came to Illinois and settled on the Illinois river, near 
 where Chandlersville now stands. Mr. Lincoln surveyed my brother's 
 farm for him. In the spring of 1836 my brother, Charles F. Ingais, took 
 up a claim at the east end of Palestine Grove on the land where he 
 lived more than fifty years. Addison and Deborah, (our sister) came 
 north with Francis to assist in improving the claim. She stopped near 
 Ottawa, with her uncle, the father of R. E. Goodell, now of Denver, who 
 was to some extent associated with the early history of Lee County, while 
 the brothers went out to build a cabin for their home. 
 
 During the two weeks they were building the cabin of logs they lived 
 in a tent made of the cover of their farm wajjon, for which their only 
 team was a pair of oxen. When the cabin was inclosed Francis went to 
 Ottawa with this team for Deborah, leaving Addison, then hut sixteen 
 years old, at the camp. The only persons he saw during his two days 
 solitude were about seventy Indians who called uninvited while he was 
 at breakfast. They asked for food, of which he had little to give. An 
 Indian trail from Green river east to Chicago passed close by the camp. 
 This could be plainly seen a number of years later when the prairie was 
 burned off, as it stretclied away over the ridges towards Melugins Grove. 
 The trail crossed the creek about a mile directly vvest of the Ingais farm, 
 at what was called the thicket. This was a little fertile bottom on 
 which grew numerous wild plum trees that bore excellent fruit: also cral) 
 apples, butternuts, hazelnut, grapes and May-apples. As there wereonly 
 wild fruits in the country then, these wore all highly prized. This had 
 been the site of an Indian camp during the winter of 1835 and '3ti and 
 tlieir lodge poles were standing a number of years later. Mr. Ingais built 
 his cabin in a hazel thicket, on the spot where he afterward built his 
 house. 
 
 Returning from Ottawa with Deborah he reached the camp in the 
 evening, after a fatiguing day's ride of thirty miles, in a lumber wagon 
 without springs, drawn by a pair of oxen. The cabin was not chinked, 
 and its light of welcome as they approached it shone not from windows, 
 but from between the logs. It had no floor and the stubs from recently 
 cut hazel brush were far from pleasant. As Deb(/rab looked into the 
 cabin, she said— and in no spirit of irony— "Francis, wliat a nice home 
 you have provided for me.'" There was no better housekeeper than she 
 Her linen and table, however simple they might be, were spotless. The 
 
 — 391 — 
 
beauty and excellence of tho first breakfast she prepared, served, though 
 it was on a drj'good-: box gave memories that the lapse of near three score years 
 has not eff((ced. Her only neighbors were in the Doan settlement two 
 miles west. Inlet Grove five north, Melugin's Grove seven east and settlers 
 on the Ihireau creek ten south. No one then Imilt, except in immediate 
 contact with the timber. The nearest store where a lady could shop was 
 at Dixon, twelve miles away. This however did not much matter, for the 
 simplicity of pioneer life re(iuired y)ut little and had it been otherwise 
 there was no money with which to make purchases. 
 
 When fourteen years old, in the autumn of 1837, I joined this family, 
 having remained until that time in New England, in the winter of 
 18.37-8 the three brothers and sisters used to attend religious services 
 at the log house of a Mr. Bridgman, which stood just across the creek 
 west of the thicket, on the present road from Binghampton to Sublette. 
 We went with the oxen and farm wagon v^ith boards across the box for 
 seats, following the Indian trail through the woods. A Mr. Vincent, a 
 relative of an eastern divine of some eminence having the same name, 
 was our preacher. The next place of worship in the vicinity was a small 
 log school house on the east side of the before mentioned creek, which 
 was not of sufficient size to have received a name, a mile north of Mr. 
 Bridgman, and near the "Widow Varners."' I think it was called by her 
 name. In this house Luke Hitchcock sometimes preached soon after he 
 came to Illinois. Rev. Joseph Gardner used to hold service there. At 
 one of his meetings he had for an auditor Joseph Smith, the founder of 
 Mormonism. Curiosity to hear Smith, induced Mr. Gardner to invite 
 him to close the services with prayer, which he did. After the audience 
 was dismissed, Smith said to Mr. Gardner in an apologetic way, "I was 
 never gifted in prayer." 
 
 Smith's wife was a sister of Mrs. Wasson, who lived near where Am- 
 boy now is. He came there to visit, and on one occasioncwas arrested, I 
 presume on some trumped up charge. His brother William, one of the 
 witnesses to the finding of the plates of the Book of Mormon, lived in 
 Palestine Grove, not far from Rocky Ford, and had some followers there. 
 They projected a temple and progressed so far as to lay a corner stone. 
 Smith lived in a very poor way, and seemed much adverse to labor. He 
 went one day and cut some poles from the tops of fallen trees. Going 
 hoaie he fell from the load and broke his arm. I was sent for, but as I 
 was ten miles away it was some time before I reached him and the plac- 
 ing ot it in proper dressings gave him considerable pain. During this he 
 suspended his groans long enough to say: "I was never blessed when I 
 
 — .392 — 
 
MR. C, F. INGALLS. 
 

 MRS. C. F. INGALL8. 
 
engaged in nianiuil labor. 1 think 1 have another work to perform." 
 That he should think a special providence was punishing him for bringing 
 home a load of wood to keep his family from freezing, caused me to smile, 
 notwitlistanding my sympathy for him in his suffering. 
 
 Our cabin was built of unhewn logs. It had but one room on the 
 ground and one above wliich was but two logs high on the sides and but 
 seven feet at the ridgepole. This was reached from the lower room by a 
 ladder. The only implements used In the construction of the cabin were 
 an ax, a froe, auger and a shave. No iron was used in the building and 
 no sawed lumber except for the first floor and one small door through 
 which a man could not walk upright with his hat on. The upper floor 
 was made of rive boards and the roof of the same, held in place by 
 weight-poles. Our furniture consisted of an improvised table, the legs of 
 which crossed like those of a saw-liorse, boards being nailed over the top. 
 We had but two chairs. One of these had a splint bottom, and the 
 other, from which this was gone, had been replaced by a board. We 
 made other seats by putting legs in puncheons about four inchs thick and 
 four feet long. These we cushioned by nailing coon skins around them. 
 They had no backs and I need not say they were very uncomfortable. 
 
 The chairs had the place of honor, and were reserved for ladies and 
 favored guests. The joists on which the upper floor of the house was 
 laid were made of small trees about six inches through at the butt, and 
 as these were green when put in they allowed the floor to sag very much 
 in the middle of the room. The upper floor, as I have said, was made of 
 rive boards laid two deep on the joists, but not nailed. Sometimes they 
 would become displaced so that a leg of the bedstead would drop through, 
 which was enough to awaken even a tired boy. The roof was proof 
 against rain, but sncw would blow through it plentifully, giving an ample 
 added covering to the bed in the morning. The house sheltered on an 
 average six persons and we were obliged to lodge travelers, as we were 
 some miles away from any public house. 
 
 I remember with much pleasure on one occasion that Owen Lovejoy 
 was snowbound with us two nights and a day, for we lacked all mental 
 stimulus. Our only paper was the Saturday Courier, a weekly, printed 
 in Philadelphia, and only received by regular course of mail when it was 
 about a month old. We had but two books, one the Lady of tlie Lake, 
 of which I committed a good deal to memory: the other the Bible, which 
 I did not like to read because 1 did not know how to read it. I have 
 always regretted that I did not improve the opportunity I then had of 
 becoming more familiar than 1 am with its merits. 
 
 — 397 — 
 
Our farm implements were as rude and imperfect as our cabin and its 
 furnishing. Our harrows were made entirely of wood, the plows did not 
 scour, the hoes were heavy and dull, both cradle and scythe had a home- 
 made, straight snath with a single nib. We thrashed our grain by 
 arranging the bundles in a circle on the ground, the heads all leaning 
 the same way, and then driving both oxen and horses against them on 
 the circle, one person constantly tossing up the straw with a fork, whil^ 
 another drove the animals. We sometimes separated the wheat from 
 the chaff by passing it througli the wind. A common expression of ex- 
 cellence then was the "head of the heap.'' There were no mechanics 
 near. 1 have tapped luy boots from the skirts of a worn out saddle, using 
 last and pegs that we had made. Wheat threshed in this manner was 
 apt to be damp and dirty. I once took a load of it to Meek's mill to be 
 ground. This was a log building two stories high. It was near the road 
 f-rom Princeton to Dixon that passed by the toll-gate at the head of the 
 Winebago swamp from which Green river takes its rise. Arrived at the 
 mill after a tedious drive of ten miles or more along the south side of 
 Palestine Grove, a considerable part of the way without a road, I found 
 my wheat was too wet to be ground. I spread it in the sun and stirred 
 it constantly during one bright, hot summer day and then it was ground. 
 The liitle flour obtained from it was very poor, black and heavy. The 
 wheat was ground in the basement and then carried on a man's shoulders 
 to the bolt on the floor above. I asked Mr. Meek how his mill was doing. 
 He answered with a degree of pride, "You can judge: it just keeps one 
 man packing." Being obliged to remain over night, Mr. Meek entertain- 
 ed me with the most hospitable kindness. Our breakfast consisted of 
 mush and milk, and though he liad a number of persons in his family 
 the table ware was limited to two tin cups and spoons. Mr. Meek and 
 I were accorded the place of honor and were served alone at the first 
 table. 1 once went with a sled to Green's mill, which was situated on 
 Fox river near its mouth, in company with Charles Sabin and Sherman 
 L. Hatch, who still lives in Lee County. I left home on Monday morning. 
 While at the mill a violent rain melted all the snow and left water ir. 
 the depression of the roadway across the high prairie which came to be a 
 matter of great importance to us. Itv.aswarra on Friday morning when 
 we set out for home with our sleds on bare ground, but it soon began to 
 snow. It suddenly became cold and we were enveloped in the most 
 severe blizzard I ever encountered. There was no house on the twenty 
 miles of prairie between Green's mill and Troy Grove, where we designed 
 to spend the night. As tlie water froze in the road on the high prairie 
 
 — 398 - 
 
the \i»ind kept it clear of snow and we could follow it; but in the sloughs 
 it would soon be obliterated by the drifting snow and we would lose it. 
 When we had crossed such a slough we would leave one of our number 
 with the teams while the other two hunted up and down the slough 
 until the road was found again. Had we lost our way I am sure we all 
 would have perished, for the following night was extremely cold. About 
 three miles from Troy Grove the road crossed the head t f the Tomahawic 
 creek. This being filled with snow appeared like an ordinary slough and 
 we drove into it. Soon the wet snow banked up in front of the box on 
 the sled and the horses were unable to draw the load. We unhitched 
 our teams and mounting one of the hoises ran them to the shelter of the 
 grove. We spent the night at Mr. Dewey's, and the following morning 
 having provided ourselves with axes returned and chopped our sleds out 
 of the ice in which they had become firmly frozen. We reached home on 
 Saturday at midnight, having spent on the expedition six laborious, dis- 
 agreeable and dangerous days, with results of only a few hundred pounds 
 of poor flour. Not long since I inspected the Pillsbury A. mill at Minne- 
 apolis. This has a daily capacity of seven thousand barrels of beautiful 
 flour, nearly the entire labor of producing it being performed b> auto- 
 matic machinery, and I realized the extent to which we had been able to 
 substitute other forces for muscular power." 
 
 We listened to the conversation of Mr. C. L. Sawyer, who remembers 
 away back in 183.") how he lived in his father's log cabin with nothing but 
 a ground floor, and blankets in lieu of doors and windows. '*I took a lit- 
 tle trip from Galena to Inlet, on foot of course," said he. "It was in the 
 winter and when I left Dixon 1 knew I should have to travel rapidly to 
 keep from freezing. So 1 set out on a run and I kept it up pretty stead- 
 ily for ten miles. I sat down to rest— I can show you the very knoll on 
 the farm owned by Mr. Chamberlain — but in a very few minutes 1 felt 
 sleepy. Rousing myself, for I realized my danger, 1 started on; but I 
 couldn't run i. ny more, it was difficult to even walk to the first house, anc' 
 that belonged to Stearn and Reynolds on the farm owned by Mr. Ullrich, 
 Sr. There I remained a few hours, suffering intensely from my exeriions. 
 I walked on to Inlet that night and mother was glad to see me. Mother 
 was always glad to see us boys, and I never shall forget how sad she 
 looked when I left home to maue my own living. 'Twas the last time I 
 ever saw her, but I have this to remember, she was always the same kind, 
 patient and amiable mother. She died when she was only forty-five 
 years old, leaving a ramily of twelve children, and she was the first 
 woman buried in the cemetery. The world knows nothing about the 
 
 — 399 — 
 
heroism of such women." Thus the son whose hair had whitened undes 
 the frosts of three-quarters of a cent iry paid loving tribute to the mother 
 whose form was hidden by the prairie sods more than fifty years ago. 
 
 "Shall I tell you how 1 was cured of an attack of pleurisy witliout 
 either physician or pills? I had taken a sudden cold which settled in my 
 side. I knew by the hard pain that something must be done, and of 
 course that, something was to bleed me. I had a neighbor that had pei- 
 formed this operation successfully for others, so I walked down to see 
 him; he lived three-quarters of a mile away, but that's nothing when you 
 want help hard. Luckily be was at home and I told him what I wanted, 
 'All right,' said he, 'Grasp the broomstick and hold it out at arm's 
 length.' Then he bound my arm tightly above the elbow and gave me a 
 bowl to hold under my arm. The incision was made and there I stuod 
 holding broom stick and bowl until a faintness nigh unto death crept 
 over me and I called for water. Enough! pain gone, cure performed, and 
 I go home a weaker but a toellet- man." Mr. Sawyer married Miss Nancy 
 Shumway of Pennsylvania in 1842 and they commenced housekeeping on 
 the last land sold by the government in this township, the deed being 
 signed by James K. Polk, president. On this farm they have lived fifty 
 years— long enough to celebrate their golden wedding, which they did in 
 a most hospitable and enjoyable manner. But the desire to be with their 
 children has induced them to sell the farm and remove to Iowa. Two 
 brothers who came at an early day are still on their farms in Lee Center 
 township. Mr. Joseph Sawyer, the father, was the first postmaster in 
 Inlet, under President Jackson. It took 25 cents to get a letter from 
 Pennsylvania then, but the government would trust you until the letter 
 arrived at its destination. We heard from a lady whose friends were 
 many and living in the eastern states that they were not always able to 
 pay the 25 cents due when the letter arrived, and the postmaster would 
 trust them' until the postage bill would amount to several dollars, then 
 it would take the price of a calf to pay the bill. 
 
 A tavern built of logs and kept by Benjamin Whittaker stood where 
 Mr. Cephas Clapp lived. Mr. Whittaker was a Virginian and built the 
 house now occupied by Mr. Ullrich. Here the old stage coach h;i.lted in 
 its tedious journeys between Chicago and Galena. 
 
 An old settler's daughter tells us that when her mother first came 
 here, in 18:59, Whittaker's "sign" at his tavern was three bottles hung 
 aloft between two poles before his door. 
 
 Of the perils of the trip from one part of the country to another in 
 those early days, we can have no more graphic picture than the following 
 
 — 400 — 
 
sketch from the pen cf INIrs. S. W. Phelps, h)ii^f ktiovvti and loved anion^r 
 the people of Lee Center ar.d vicinity as the; wife of the pastor of the 
 Congregational church in that place: 
 
 "My earliest reminiscences of Lee county, Illinois, clustering closely 
 about Dixon, date back to 1S;{2. Then a child of eight years, I was the 
 junior member of a traveling party of five, en route froui New York City 
 to Galena, 111., Rev. Aratus Kent, who was returning to the "northwest," 
 his missionary field, with his bride (my aunt). Miss Fierce, a teacher, 
 and Mr. E. E. Hall, a young student in course of preparation for the 
 ministry. The route was via Hudson River to Albany, thence across 
 New York state by Erie Canal to Ruffalo, onward by stage to Wheeling, 
 Va., down the Ohio River and up the Mississippi l)y steamboat, and with- 
 out detentions required a full month's time. 
 
 We had left New York in September, but having been long delayed 
 l)y cholera among us in Cincinnati, again in St. Louis by other illness, 
 we were unable to leave that city till after the close of navigation on the 
 upper Mississippi, beginning the overland trip of more than 400 miles by 
 stage. Arriving at Springfield, HI., it was fiiund to the dismay of the 
 older travelers that tlie nuiil stage would travel no farther northward 
 before spring After days of search for a good team fur sfale my uncle 
 bought a stout pair of horses, an emigrant wagon, buffalo robes, and 
 provided with a compass, a large sack of crackers and some dried beef, 
 the best provision for emergencies of hunger which the town afforded, 
 we set forth, soon to leave the "settlements" behind and to pass through 
 a wilderness country made still more desolate by the "Black Hawk 
 war." 
 
 Stopping places became more infreciucnt, till for the later days of 
 the dreary way they were forty n)iles apart, the blackened ruins of 
 cabins now and then marking the deserted "claims." Roads (more prop- 
 erly called "trails" by the inhabitants) long unused and either overgrown 
 l)y pra.rie grass or burned over by autumnal lires, were difficnlt to follow. 
 
 Late in the arternoon of Doc. l."5th our wagou halted before a little 
 cabin known as "Daddy Joe's." "Daddy Joe" had espied us from afar, 
 and awaited our approach leaning upon the rail fence, smoking a cob 
 pipe, his rotund ligure topped off by a well ventilated straw hat. His 
 son, yet a lad, occupied a post of observation upon a "top rail." his head 
 also sheltered from the wintry winds by a similar structure. 
 
 "Winnebago Inlet," known to "early settlers" as a "slough of des- 
 pond," lay between us and "Dixon's Ferry," our haven of rest for the 
 coming night, and my uncle asked directions to a safe crossing from 
 
 — 401 — 
 
"Daddy Jue." His advice given between long putl's of his pipe was that 
 we should go no farther that "evening." He kindly offered shelter, food 
 and his son as guide in the morning, as he was sure we could not "make 
 the ford"' before dark. ITis assertion that the "old ford" was irupassable 
 and that the "trail" to the new was "t>)0 blind to folks after night" was 
 assuring, but anxious to push on, my uncle urged the tired horses to a 
 lively pace. The result proved "Daddy Joe" the wiser man. The winter 
 dusk came on all too early, the "old trail" too easily mistaken for the 
 new, and in the uncertain twilight the h(jrses plunged down the steep, 
 slippery bank into the black abyss of the "old foi'd." The poor beasts 
 floundered breast deep in the icy mush, till just beyond midstream they 
 could go no further. The wagon settled to its bed and the three femi- 
 nine occupants climbed upon the trunks in the rear end, there to perch 
 for several hours. By desperate struggles an occasional jerk brought us 
 a few inches forward, after each one the wagon again settling into the 
 miry bed. Thus after several hours of exhausting effort the two men 
 were able to leap to the shore from the backs of the horses, bye and bye 
 to land the stronger horse and with his help to pull out his fellow, now 
 hardly able to star:d alone. Then, one by one, we were helped aU>ng 
 the tongue of the wagon to "terra tirma." My aunt, exhausted by 
 fatigue and fright, was lifted to the back of the better horse with a 
 buffalo robe as saddle, herhusband leading the horse. INlr. Ilnll followed 
 coaxing along the other. Miss Pierce and myself luinging up the J'ear. 
 We started by the light of the now risen moon along the ti'ail in "Indian 
 tile" for a walk of three ihiles to "Dixon's Ferry" 
 
 I recall distinctly the feelings with which I triulged on in the deep 
 silence of midnight uiuler the glistening stars over the l)Outulless 
 prairie." 
 
 The weary >narch ended at last, 1 winkling liglils greeted our eager 
 eyes and as we (luickencd our i)ace the moonbeams revealed a most pic- 
 tures(iue. though somewhat startling scene. White tents gleamed and 
 in every direction smouldering campfires showed dusky, blanketed forms 
 crouching oi- lying prone aiound them while a few white men in army 
 uniform bearing lanterns moved about with alert step and keen eye. 
 We halted at once, the ladies greatly alarmed, l)ut the watchers had 
 noted approaching hoof beats and hurried to reassure us. explaining 
 that several thousand Indians were there encamped, for the final settle- 
 ment of annuities and other matters included in their recent treaty 
 with the government. 
 
 A moment later wc were made welcome to the warmth and comfort 
 
 — 402 — 
 
of her neat cabin by Mrs. Dixon, who hastened to make ready a hot, rel- 
 ishing' supper, a royal feast to our famishing appetites. 
 
 Our kind hostess gave up her own soft bed bv ihe cheerful hearth fire 
 to the ladies, tucking me snugly away at the foot to a dreamless sleep, 
 finding a resting place somewliere among lier many guests for my uncle 
 and Mr. Hall. 
 
 In the gray of the earliest dawn Mr. Dixon and his stalwart sons 
 started out with oxen, chains, and poles to rescue the abandoned "prairie 
 schooner" from the "Inlet Slough," returning with it in triumphal pro- 
 cession a few hours later. Meanwhile, some one had taken me out into 
 the "great tent" among the warrior chiefs, adorned with ))aint and 
 feathers and earrings, and gorgeous in all the new toggery obtained 
 from the agents. As we passed around the circle, a painted chief caught 
 me up in his arms, seated me on his knee, admired and patted mj red 
 cheeks, calling out "brave s(iuaw, brave siiuaw," because I did not turn 
 pale and run away in fear. 
 
 All preparations for a fresh start were soon completed, and we made 
 haste to leave Lee Countv s(»il — at least so much of it as we were notcom- 
 pelled to carry away iipijn our belongings. But "getting away" proved 
 no easy matter. The horses had not been consulted. Once at the river's 
 l)rink our troubles began anew. The ferry was a "rope ferry," the boat a 
 "fiat boat" "poled" across the swift flowing river. The quivering horses, 
 terrified at sight of the water, refused to enter the boat. After long and 
 vain urging they finally made a wild plunge forward which sent the boat 
 spinning from the shore as they sprang upon tVie boat, dragging the fore 
 wheels of the wagon with them, the hind vi^heels dropping into the river, 
 almost tossing us into the icy stream. Instantly Mr. Hall was in the 
 shallow water with his "shoulder to the wheel," and somehow, between 
 the efforts of men and horses Ihe whole wagon was got on board. After 
 a halt upon the shore for advice <md thanks to our friends; and a chang- 
 ir)g of the soaked garments for dry ones bythechilled men, theirdripping 
 raiment fluttering from various points of the wagon cover, our hmg ride 
 to the "lead mines" was again resumed. 
 
 Upon the foregoing experience my only claim of being an "early set- 
 tler" of Lee County must be based— the transient settlement being con- 
 fined to the few hours spent lietween the banks of the "Winnebago 
 Inlet." 
 
 Twenty years later this pioneer journey came vividly to my thoughts 
 while we waited in Dixon for the wagon from Lee Center, which conveyed 
 us to the welcoming people who soon became "our oeople," whose welfare 
 
 — 4o;j — 
 
becanu' the wiirp into vvhicli so luaiiy years of our own lives were inter- 
 woven, whose sorrows we carried in our hearts, and in whose ghidnessvvc 
 were glad— nur alTections taking root so deeply among them that the pain 
 of transplanting still lingers with an al)iding ache in two hearts now 
 grown more familiar with the minor key in life's experiences, than with 
 the major music of its joys." 
 
 There is a story that in those early days four families came here from 
 the east with the few worldly effects which could be stowed in their 
 wagons; but there was no home, nothing like home, except the blue sky 
 and the genial sunshine. The mountains were only pictured in memory, 
 and the little fields, outlined by straggling, irregular stumps, over which 
 vines ran rampant all the summer, seemed far away. The prairies were 
 so wide and the windsswept over them unchecked by either rocksor hills. 
 It was all so strange, so new, that the wonder remains to thii day why 
 they did not all turn around and go back to their native homes. But 
 the story goes that two families, never having taken their wagon covers 
 off, retraced their steps. The other two remained and went to work with 
 a will: cut and hewed logs and reared their cabins wiih the energy 
 which characterized the true pioneer. A member of one of these families, 
 Mr. Ralph Ford, relates how he hired out to work on a farm, the first 
 year receiving $T per month. The next year he was paid $!> and the next 
 $11, showing steady progression. 
 
 Mr. Ford tells of a trip he made to Chicago, which in Lhose days con- 
 sisted of thirty-three frame shanties, standing in the water. lie with 
 two other men drove in some hogs, the round trip occupying sixteen days. 
 As corn was plenty and cost only (i cents per bushel, they fed generously, 
 drove slowly, and at the end of their trip marketed their hogs for li 
 cents per pound. In the spring of "40 Mr. Ford drove a pair of oxen to 
 Chicago. The wagon was loaded with wheat. Many showers and a hot 
 sun caused the wheat to sprout on the way. The grain depot consisted 
 .,f a floating wharf, or corduroy bridge ancliored to the shore, where boats 
 loaded and unloaded their cargo. It costi the man who owned the wheat 
 20 cents per l)ushel to get it to Chicago, and lie then had to sell it as 
 damaged wheat to a starch factory down the river. 
 
 Mr. F. took his turn at driving the old stage coach. A cumbrous 
 vehicle it was, weighiiig .'i.'ioo pounds, and when weighted down willi 
 prairie mud and passengers, probably amounted to several poutids more. 
 Four large horses were driven before the coacli. from Chicago to Galena, 
 and the passengers paid five cents per mile and had to carry a rail half 
 the time, at that, to pry tlie stage out of the sloughs it had to pass. 
 
 — 40-i — 
 
Starting from the tavern in Lee Center at noon, the driver must occupy 
 his position until 12 o'clock at nighl: then the next man Uwk it for 
 twelve hours. 
 
 Many romantic episodes occurred in the lives of the.se old settlers, and 
 if wo felt at iilierty to repent the stories which we have heard from their 
 lips, it would lend both humor and paLluis to these pages. We were de- 
 sirous of finding who were the parties in the lirst matrinuuiial alliance. 
 Mr. Volney Bliss furnished us with the desired infoi'ination. 
 
 In the }ear 18.'W, a Mr. Albert Static and Miss Klmira Carpenter were 
 married by Daniel M. Dewey, justice of the peace. "Speaking of wed- 
 dings,"' said one of the old settlers, "reminds me of one I attended in 
 those early days. The s(iuire performed tlie ceremony standing in ihe 
 open door of the house belonging to the groom. A good many of us had 
 gathered around the door with oid tin pans, horns and guns and as soon 
 as the squire stopped talking, we began to deal out music (?) to the newly 
 married couple. Oh, the horrid dinl 'Twas the tlrst charivari 1 ever 
 attended and almost the last. 1 believe there were two or three more in 
 the neighborhood after that." 
 
 The hard labor and isolated lives of our pioneers did not detract from 
 their patriotic zeal. 
 
 A lady informant, who attended the Fourth of July cele))ration in 1842 
 writes: "I can only remember that it rained during the exercises, which 
 were held in the little school house at Inlet. The rain ceased about the 
 close, but the grass was so wet it was almost decided to eat the dinner 
 we had prepared indoors, instead of nuirching to the booths where the 
 tables had been improvised. The ladies di.sliked the plan of adjourning 
 to the school house, so we took a vote as to where the dinner should be 
 eaten. AVe unanimously voted to go to the tables. This decision so 
 pleased the gentlemen that tliey gave us three rousing cheers, and gal- 
 lantly offered to go out and turn over the grass and shake the water out, 
 so we need not wet our slippers or draggle our skirts. The orator of the 
 day was Dr. R. F. Adams, now of Denver. Mr. .Joseph Farwell furnished 
 music with his his violin, and Mr. Joseph Sawyer beat the l)ig b;iss 
 drum." 
 
 In 1840 Luke IIitchco,:k njarried a couple, who, thougli they did not 
 come here to live till years after, have always jbeen interested in Lee 
 Center, and Lee Center in them, Mr. and Mrs. Cephas Clapp. Mr. Clai>p 
 had come west a year or nicjre before, and when liis sister and husbiind 
 (Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Clapp) wen: east in \^M) ihey brought back vvitli 
 them his promised wife. Mildred Snow. Tliey had the pioneer's ex- 
 
 — 40.-> — 
 
perience in getting here, being "sloughed'" and lording lUireau creek 
 wlien their trunlvs had to be put on the seats of the wagon, and they 
 themselves to sit lil<e tailors on the other seals to keep dry: but the 
 bride was just as brave and cheerful as she always has Ijeen and a.-, ready 
 to bear anything for her loved ones. They were married at Lewis Clapp's 
 and the next Sunday Mrs. Clapp remembers going to meeting in toe old. 
 log school house at Inlet in the forenoon, and at Mr. Tripp's barn in the 
 afternoon. Here she met many (jf tlie old settlers and formed ties of 
 interest still strong and abiding. She remembers ''Uncle Dan Frost" led 
 the singing, and how well he sang: and that Mrs Dr. (lardner said witli 
 tears she "hojjed they wouldn't be as homesiclv as ^'he had been." 
 
 Rev. James Brewer, now living at Wheaton, Illinois, expresses his 
 commendation of the work in hand in the following words: "It is surely 
 a very grateful thing thit as the history of earth's glacial period has 
 beer, rescued from oblivion ])y investigations of the boulders left from 
 its movements, so there are those enough interested in the Generals of 
 Lee Center's history to take the pains to investigate the old boulders 
 which still lie with striated surfaces along its course, and write out their 
 story of an earlier age." 
 
 Mr. Brewer rode on hor&eback from Montgomery, Ala., to Inlet in the 
 fall of IS-i'A. "I found my way by intiuiring for large towns. At Spring 
 field, 111., I in(iuire(l for Peoria, thence I came to Princeton, thence to 
 Greenfield (now Lamoille), thence to Dixon's Ferry. At Green river 
 (Inlet creek) I received the first knowledge of Inlet, the chief town of 
 the Lee Center which was to l»e.'' Mr. B. speaks of several private 
 schools in and about Inlet. "In one such Mrs. Sallie P. Starks taught a 
 class of ten pupils, five l)oys and five girls, from alK)ut one year old to 
 near twenty-one years old. and the excellence of her work is manifest in 
 the nol)le after lives of such as Bets.v S. Shaw, Emeline Williamson and 
 Esther M. Chadwick. This woman taught 12 hours a day and all the 
 year round. Several years after his first coming to Inlet Mr. Brewer 
 occupied the position of principal of the Lee Center academy, and the 
 first bell, "an exceeding sweet and far sounding one," was purchased 
 while he was teaching there. 
 
 And now a word about this structure bearing the name of academy. 
 Jn or near 184() the question was agitated in regard to the erection of a 
 brick building which would serve as a school building: also as a place for 
 conducting religious services. When Mr. Moses Crombie and wife cast in 
 their hit with the people of Lee Center Mr. Crombie was a carpenter by 
 trade, and took the contract for l)uilding tlu^ l)rick part of the old acad 
 
 — 40G — 
 
einy. When completed it w;is an imposing structure for those times 
 and indicated the character of tli(»>^e who aided in its erection as true 
 interpreters of the wisdom of knowledge. 
 
 It was a grand step forward when in IH'y.i the stf)ne part of the present 
 edifice was added to accommodate the throng of students knocldngat 
 its doors for admission. 
 
 In TkJ Mr. S. Wright, of Battle Creek, Mich., assumed the reins of 
 government. For the next three years the school was the principal edu- 
 cational center of this and adjoining counties. Many pupils came from 
 other states and almost every home In town sheltered one or more board- 
 ers. Mr. Wright would proudly remark, "Yes, this is one of the best, if 
 not the very best school in the northwest." We clip from an old cata- 
 logue published during Mr.W^right's reign. "Lee Center Union Academy 
 is pleasantly situated upon one of the most delightful and healthy prair' 
 ies of the west Lee Center is a small village, free from the contaminat- 
 ing influences that are always associated with depots and larger places: 
 it is also free from saloons and resorts of dissipation tnat have a tenden- 
 cy to draw the youth from the path of rectitude The school is now per- 
 manently established, and one which will afford equal advantages with 
 any academy or seminary in the west. A valuable library is connected 
 with the institution, to which the student can have access by the pay- 
 ment of 23 cents per (luarter."' The names of seven trustees and live 
 special directors are given, together with a list of six as "Visiting Com- 
 mittee." The board of instructors are assigned tf> departments in ancient 
 languages, ornamental branches and modern languages, instrumental 
 music, mathematics, and two lectures on physiology and philosophy. 
 
 Those were indeed the palmy days of dear old Lee Center — pleasant 
 white cottages embowered in trees, shady streets and grassy lawns made 
 it a "faire greene countrie towne." It was the pride and pleasure of the 
 dwellers therein to watch the surprise of relatives from the eastern states 
 when introduced to the social circle there: they found homes erf refine- 
 ment and culture equal to those they knew in New England, daughters 
 as lovely and accomplished and sons as noble and manly as any they had 
 left behind, and they never failed to give'it their highest meed of praise 
 by saying, "It was so much like a New England village." Who of the 
 younger "old settlers" will ever forget the time when they gathered about 
 that old academy— Lyceums, lectures, donations, traveling entertain- 
 ments in the academy "chapel." Or the time— before tht three pretty 
 churches were built, when there was Congregational service and Sunday 
 school Sunday morning. Episcopal service and Sunday schof)l in the after 
 
 — 407 — 
 
noon, and Methodist in the evening, with ahiiost the same congregation 
 and children in all three; the greatest difference being that Dracon 
 Crombie and Deacon Barnes gathered the offerings of the congrogation iti 
 the morning, Dr. Gardner and Mr. Garrett La Forge in the afternoon and 
 two good Methodist brethren in tlie evening, and that there was a differ- 
 ent parson in the desk at each. 
 
 Nor did Lee Center and her young people fall behind the rest of the 
 county in the next page of history: for in that old academv chapel were 
 held some of the most stirring ''war meetings," and thore were enlisted 
 as large and brave a proportion as any town sent. Here, too. the girls 
 gave many an entertainment for tlie beiietit of llie old ''Sanitary Com- 
 mission"' — which would not have shamed t liose df a city even, and sent, 
 generous returns to the "boys in blue."' 
 
 During this time schools were being establisiied in adjnining towns, 
 which of course detracted steadily frcm the attendance, until at present 
 it ranks as a graded district school. Many of the pupils who have been 
 sheltered beneath it.s roof are now breasting the current of life in places 
 of honor and disiinction. Many, in homes scattered thidughout our 
 I'nion, are fullilling the promise of tlieir early days— 
 '•^Vhat the child admired 
 Tlie youtti endeavored, and tlK? man aefiiiired." 
 
 And many rest from their labors, for God called them. 
 
 The feet f)f the younger generations tread in and out tlie old rooms 
 now, the curriculum of study lias been siinplified, anotlier bell swings in 
 tlie weatherbeaten belfi'y, the corps of instructors has been narrowed 
 down to two, still the intluences of the olden time dwells in the hearts 
 and lives of those who wer(i wont to gat her in the old academy, (xhort- 
 ing to truest man and womaniiood. 
 
 The Congregational church was organi/.ed ;it the home (if Mr. Moses 
 Crombie and called the •'Congregational Cliurch of Palestine Grove." 
 Then we understand worship was conducted until 184!) in what was 
 called the Wasson school house, after which it was moved to Lee Center. 
 Of the organization of the Methodist church we have spoken before and 
 we know that for many years Luke Ilitciicock, among the best and best 
 beloved of that communion, was here; that Philo .J udson— afterward a 
 foreign missionary— preached here, and that good old "Father rentleld"' 
 often filled the sacred desk, as well as the early circuit riders mentioned 
 in other papers. The Episcopal church was not a pioneer organization 
 here and gradually retrogi'aded after its founders and chief supporters, 
 Dr. Gardner and Garrett La Forge left the town, until it is opened for 
 service only ui)on rare occasions. 
 
 — 408 — 
 
We were happy to find snuyrly pasted in an old scrap-book a letter 
 descriptive of the audience that were wont to worship in the "bride part" 
 of the old academy previous to the building of the churches. The style 
 of the letter sugfjests that the writer must have been Mrs. James Crom- 
 bie, who was long a resident of Lee Center, and our literary "star." She 
 evidently arrived by stage in the early hours of a Novemijer morning, for 
 she says, -'How the winds whistled and penetrated when the stage un- 
 loaded its passengers, and the moon looked coldly down upon the Acad- 
 emy, as it stood there alone on the prairie, unenclosed or beautified by 
 tree or shrub. It was well filled that Sabbath morning as we entered, 
 for the Palestine people were over and added largely to the congregation. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Farwell and Jirainard, Mr. and Mrs. Johti C. Church, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Cyrus Davis and some others were i)resent from there. It was 
 l)efore the days of fashion and dress, although Miss Mary Barnes had 
 spent a few weeks in the millinery rooms at LaSalle, and she had added 
 a bright rilibon hf>re and there in trimming some of the bonnets. Mrs. 
 Ltodine was spending the winter at Mr. Charles Hitchcock's, from Staten 
 Island, and she had a little of the city airs. Dr. R. F. Adams and wife, 
 Dr. and Mrs. Ingals and Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Clapp were chatting to- 
 gether before service. Deacon Barnes and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Moses 
 Crombie, Mr. Lyman Wheat, Joseph -ne and George, Mr. and Mrs. Swart- 
 out, Abram and T^elson, Mr. and Mrs. Bradford Church, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Charles Frisbee, Mr. Martin Wright and Helen, Rev. James Brewer, 
 principal of the academy. Miss Harriet Rewey, the primary teacher, Mr. 
 David Smith and his two bright-eyed daugliters, Mrs. Bourne and Mrs. 
 Sancer, Mrs. Lee Clapp and Alice, Mr. and Mrs. Jacob P)odine and Albert 
 Z. Bodine, Mr. Ira Brewer came with his wagon filled. Uncle Elisha 
 J^ratt, Elisha and Sarah were down from Bradford, John Warwick, Sarali 
 (Mrs. John ('rombie) and Sabra. Esijuire Haskell came in later. There 
 was a weary look on the faces of those who came in the earlier days, 
 telling of trial and care. T.^ie path had been hard to travel in opening 
 up the farms and building new homes. The pastor. Rev. S. W. Phelps, 
 was at the desk, and he had a (luiet, unobtrusive expression as if shrink- 
 ing from the duties before him. This is his first pastorate. Mr. Brewer 
 j)itches the tunes. >rr. John Wetherbee, tlie Misses Barnes, Mrs. Henry 
 Frisbee and Mrs. Martin Wright composed the choir.'' Those of us who 
 read these names realize that the greater number composing this audi- 
 ence have "passed over." 
 
 We next give a brief page from tlie pen of Mr. Plielps, the congre- 
 gational pastor spoken of above, whose pastorate in Lee Center was 
 longer than that of any other minister of whatever name. 
 
 — 409 — 
 
'•I h;ive not. been wont to consider myself ;iii old settler of Lee county. 
 1 w;is not so old at my droppintf down at Lee Center in 1852. that I 
 escaped the suggestion of being" a "green yankee." 
 
 "As for the 'settle idea,' I was so far from that relation to the prairie 
 that 1 was never 'settled" at all: but was a sojourner, liable to be hoisted 
 any year. 
 
 "Old settlers were there alreaily in their snug, hospitable homes, 
 which timidly hugged the edge of the irrove. or venturously dotted the 
 treeless expanse of prairie. 
 
 "My memory of Lee Center goes back to a time six years antecedent 
 to '')2, even less suggestive of settlement, as the creaking, lumbering mail 
 coach, attempting to wi-estle with an athletic stump, discourteously 
 hurling its load ()f assorted passengers into a squirming heap of humanitv. 
 at Inlet. It was a rather unsettling parenthesis in my return from a 
 courtship trip of 1,000 miles, from New York to (lalena. Hardly less 
 vivid is the memory of a second excursion, in a 'Frink and Walker' stage 
 from (ralena to Dixon supplemented by a hard ride through soft mud, 
 with a deacon (now counted among the faithful departed) to the village 
 and to his tidy home. 
 
 "Recollection includes one old settler that warned us (the girl 1 did 
 noMeave behind and myself) by a significant rattle to vacate a wild 
 strawberry patch, and another that darted venom at the intrusive wagon 
 wheel which jolted me and disturbed him at early dawn near HirdsaU 
 bridge. Along with these recollections go that of a cramped schoolroom, 
 adorned with meandering stovepipe, and furnished with pedagogic desk 
 for the 'green yankee's' wearying attempts at sermonizing; that of Sun- 
 day school, saved from midwinter wreck by three brave Baptist boys 
 (Swartwouts); of Sunday afternoon rides or walks to out stations, through 
 measureless mud or snow, or in the face of a lilizzard escaped from the 
 land of the Dakotas. 
 
 "But T need not accumulate these reminiscences, but remind you that 
 a farewell sermon finished a sixteen and a half year ministery with ex- 
 pressions of an interest that has never been repealed in the people of my 
 only pastorate.'" 
 
 A sketch from Dr. Ephriam Ingals gave us a very complete description 
 of their cabin liome, and of the times when he pioneered in our county^ 
 Both Dr. Ingals and his brother are nf)w living in Chicago, enjoying the 
 richly-deserved fruit of their labors. 
 
 In the fall of 1841 a family arrived from the Knickerbocker state, con- 
 sisting of Mr. Bradford Church, his wife and three daughters. We have 
 
 — 4J0 — 
 
a lively reincinbrancc of this couple, so long interested in all that per- 
 tained to Lee Center and her people. The lively wit and humor of the 
 (iiie and the quiet geniality of the other endeared them to the people with 
 whom they dwelt nearly tifty years. Mrs. William Ramsey, a daughter, 
 writes: "The next day after our arrival, being Sunday, we all went to 
 churcli in Palestine. Agenerous pioneer had kindly thrown open his res- 
 idence for an assembly room. It was of dimensions most fashionable in 
 those days— no trouble to have crowded congregations then. The speaker 
 was a Rev. Baptist; I cannot remember his text or subject, just one word 
 of it all remains, i. e.: "Simplify." I think Lee Center had not received 
 its name at this time. Inlet at the l)ridge was the town, with two saw 
 mills, a store and a few mechanics. Looking back 1 can see but little of 
 Lee Center except a house with its ruof sproe^ting out of the ground and 
 the school house near the grove. 1 wish the school house had been left 
 standing until now in its unpretentiousness, rough benches and all. It 
 would be worth a pilgrimage to look at it. But its ministers were neither 
 rough or common. Those I lieard there in the winter of '41 were Luke 
 Hitchcock, Philo Judson and .John Hogan, local preacher and registrar of 
 land office in Dixon. 
 
 "Now I come to your 'We want all we can get about the women and 
 tlieir work.' My dear, do you realize that this refers to the woman of 
 fifty yea'rs ago? What can you expectV She had not yet tliought of de 
 liverence from the bondage of looking well to the ways of her household. 
 Frances Willard was yet in her infancy and Samantha Allen had not 
 been dreamed of. Some poet has written 'Noble deeds are held in 
 iionor, liut tlie wide world sadly needs hearts of patience to unravel this, 
 the worth of common deeds." Pure religion and neighborly kindness 
 were as dear to womaifs heart then as they are now, and I think the 
 dear words, 'she hath done what she could,' will as often be applied to 
 women of that age as this, .lust consider for a moment the pioneer 
 woman in the midst of her family, her toil and her care, with six pairs of 
 feet and liands to be protected from the rigors of this.climate— one slender 
 pair of hands with her knitting needles to accomplish it; not as a busi- 
 ness, oh, no! but just by tllliiig up every spare minute 'between jobs. 
 Then they had their neighborly social visits, when the women indulged 
 in pleasant chat and mild gossip, keeping time with their knitting nee- 
 dles, while their 'gude men" without ensaged in discussions of political 
 econpmy, reform, etc.— and, poor dears, they seemed just as happy as the 
 women of these days. 1 wonder why some ingenious writer has not 
 taken for his theme 'The rise and fall of knitting work and its effect on 
 
 — 411 - 
 
the republic."" A bii^^lit little girl friend of mine says she 'can always 
 tell the ladies who l<n(»w how to knit, liecause thoy wear their hair parted 
 in the middle." "" 
 
 I t is a source of regret that the purpose of our book was not more fully 
 understood, so that we might have had incidents and particulars from 
 the experience ot many of them to make our story more complete and 
 njore interesting. We have beside those named or referred to in other 
 l)arts of this sketch the names of "Uncle Russel"' Lynn and "Uncle Dan"' 
 Frost and to their excellent wives not one word of honor has been given. 
 Dear "Aunt AbbicI" and "Aunt Eulalial" we pause to linger over their 
 ti:ime=, yet realize that their quiet unobtrusive lives furnished little for 
 the pen of a historian. But in not a few homes in Lee County, and in 
 distant lands as well, are there those who rise up and call them blessed, 
 whose lives have been consecrated to higher and nobler purposes bytheir 
 influence and prayers, and eternity only can measure the widening circle 
 of that influence and those prayers. Would there were more such 
 mothers! more such women! and with these dear faces comes a throng of 
 others— the noble pioneer women of Lee Center who bore bravely and un- 
 complainingly the "burden and heat of the day"" — Mrs. Luke Hitchcock. 
 Mrs. Birdsall (her mother), Mrs. Warnick, Mrs. John II. Gardner, and her 
 successor, "Aunt Lydia," and many more whose names, omitted here, 
 are written on high in letters of living light. • 
 
 We cannot refrain from ([uoting a closing paragraph from an author 
 who appreciates the heroes of the past: "The pioneer! Who shall fitly 
 tell the story of his life and work! The soldier leads an assault. It lasts 
 but a few minutes. He knows that whether he lives or dies immortality 
 will be his reward. But when the soidiei' of peace assaults the wilderness 
 no bugle sounds the charge. Tlie frost, the wild beast, malaria, fatigue 
 are the foes that lurk to ambush him. and if against the unequal odds he 
 alls, no volleys are fired aV)ove him. The pitiless world merely sponges 
 his name from its slate. Thus he blazes the trail: thus he fells the trees- 
 thus he I'.lants his stakes: thus he faces the hardships and whatever fate 
 awaits him, and his self-contained soul keeps his linger on his lips and no 
 lamentations are heard. Not one in a thousand realizes the texture of 
 the manhood that has been exhausting itself within him. Few compre- 
 hend his nature or have any conceijtion of his work."" 
 
 Anna E. Woodhiudok. 
 
MR. VOLNEY BLISS. 
 
/(f^^^. 
 
 i^"^ 
 
 MRS. VOLNEY BLISS. 
 
Vofne^ Bfi55. 
 
 YOLNEY BLISS was born in Hiirun Cuunty, Ohio, in 1828. About 
 1830 his parents niovcd to Kalamazoo, Michigan, from which place 
 they came in the spring of 1834 to Inlet and settled by the grove 
 which long bore the name of Bliss' Grove before it becaiuc generally 
 known as Palestine Grove. At that time there were several hundred In- 
 dians within a few rods of Mr. Bliss' cabin. Government was slow in 
 settling with them and they were waiting for their money, blankets, 
 guns, etc., before going to Council Bluffs. It was nearly two ytars before 
 "Uncle Sam" had them paid, but there were no railroads or telegraph 
 lines then and everything moved slowly. The young braves were Mr. 
 Bli.ss' only playfellows. Like Mr. Dixon at the ferry, his father, Mr. 
 Adolphus Bliss, was the first white man in this vicinity. 
 
 He opened a stage house, for he lived on the direct route from Chicago 
 to Dixon, and Chicago was for a time his postofflce. 
 
 Just one year after Mr. Bliss came, John Dexter arrived and. settled six 
 miles farther west Then they had a neighbor. Mrs. Dexter once 
 walked all the way to Mr. Bliss' after fire. One would think it must have 
 feone out before she could reach home with it. The next year the Ingals 
 family came to the grove. It was really getting quite thickly settled. 
 
 One can hardly hear of an old settler now who did not come through 
 "Inlet." Bliss' Stage House has many associations. All the memories 
 that cluster around the old stage coach arrivals with their human bur- 
 dens and the mails, and the "underground railroad" are gathered around 
 this place. Mr. John Cross had his advertisement fastened up beside 
 that of Frink and Walker. Here was opened the first school in Lee 
 County, with Miss Ann Chamberlain as teacher. 
 
 Mr. Bliss is gifted with unusual powers of observation and memory, 
 and he can give authentic information upon almost every event of inter- 
 est which transpired within his range of knowledge. It is a pleasure to 
 learn from him, and amusing to note how exactly his memory serves him 
 in little particulars which most people forget. He remembers Petei 
 
 — 417 — 
 
"Cartright atiil the size of liis saddle-bags, and jusL liow some preachers 
 talked; and many lively incidents which would make a voluuie w(,rth 
 possessing. He could give an abstract from memory of every homestead 
 that he knew. At a glance he takes in comparative distances and local- 
 ities and every little oliject in view. He has a faculty of describing any- 
 thing and presenting it to another's mind so clearly in few words that it 
 is easier to remember it than to forget it. What a teacher he would have 
 made— or artist, or guide over the pathless wilderness or ocean. In 1.S42, 
 at the age of fourteen years, he went to Chicago to work in the ottlce of 
 the Chicago Donormt, published bv "L(jng John Wentworth." The office 
 was at 107 Lake street, over Sherman & Pitkin's dry goods store. Lake, 
 Water and Randolph streets were then about the only ones which had 
 buildings on them. That was the time when farmers carried grain, po>'k 
 etc. to Chicago through the sloughs, and wlien it took a week to go and 
 return. 
 
 After Mr. Bliss returned home— his father liaving died— he attended 
 school two winters at Dixon, making his home in the family of Judge 
 Heaton, wlm was his guardian. 
 
 When the war came he enlisted in Co. D, l.")th Ills, llegt., and became 
 first lieutenant in Sherman's arm>: was transferred fronj ITth corps to 
 the Western Division, and finished service on the plains, remaining to 
 the close of the war, his head(iuarters being at F(jrt Kearney and Fort 
 Leavenworth. 
 
 Mr. Bliss was married in IH't'.i to Miss l*auline Treadvvell of Susciue- 
 hanna Co., Pa., Rev. Joseph Gardner performing the marriage service. 
 Mr. Bliss says they "celebrated President Pierce's inauguration in that 
 way." Mrs. Bliss, like her husband, has an excellent memory. Slie was 
 personally acquainted with some of those people whose career in this 
 state will ever be rememl)ered by many with interest. Her kindness of 
 heart has endeared her to many, wln) in sickness or trouble immediately 
 send for her; and her unselfishness is as proverbial as that of her hus- 
 band. On the death of a beloved niece they adopted the little motlier- 
 less one, but it was not long spared to them. 
 
 Mr. Bliss has been justice of the peace for fourteen years and assessor 
 
 of Lee Center township for twenty years. 
 
 Mks. D. C. Chase. 
 

Tf4e Weft/ Famlf^. 
 
 MY father, David Welty, was born in Williams vi He, New York. He 
 inherited a considerable fortune and was considered wealthy as 
 riches were rated at that early day. He was an invalid and it 
 was believed that should he remain in the east his days would not be 
 long in the land. His family physician, Dr. White of Buffalo, advised 
 him to go west, to make the entire journey on horseback and settle on a 
 farm so as to have the benefit of open air exercise. He accordingly in 
 the year of 1838 started from Buffalo, mounted upon a thoroughbred 
 mare presented by a friend, whose name I have now forgotten. He was 
 accompanied by several young men upon his first day's journey, among 
 whom was A. L! Porter, who shortly afterwards removed to Dixon. The 
 next morning after the first day when father resumed his journey west- 
 ward these young gentlemen, citizens of Buffalo, each bid him a final 
 goodbye with the firm belief that they would soon hear of his death. It 
 is a remarkable fact that father outlived them all. The entire journey 
 from Buffalo to Dixon's Ferry, as it was then called, was successfully 
 made by him on horseback. 
 
 The following year he sent for his family, consisting of mother and 
 myself. We were accompanied by Grandfather and Grandmother Scott, 
 went by steamer via the lakes to Chicago, and thence by stage to Dixon. 
 Father remained with his family about a year in Dixon and then settled 
 upon the land preempted V)y him on the Inlet Creek (Green River), in 
 what is now Marion Township. 
 
 It was related to me by father that when mother looked upon the 
 long stretches of prairie, utterly devoid of houses, trees, or any other evi- 
 dences of civilization— or uncivilization, for that matter— for the Indians 
 had fled— she exercised her woman's prerogative and sat down for a two 
 weeks' cry. She gave her undivided attention to the business in hand- 
 that of weeping. The contrast between the city of Buffalo with its charm- 
 ing society and the bleak bare prairies of Illinois was too great, the trans- 
 
 — 421 — 
 
formation too sudden for this refined young woman, so there was nothing 
 left her to do but to just open the tear ducts and cry it out. 
 
 JUit time, that merciful assuajjer of all j^riefs, at last reconciled her 
 to pioneer life. Old friends and acquaintances began to remove from the 
 east and settle in Dixon or the vicinage. 
 
 A double log house was built on the farm, the lumber for the doors 
 and window sash, flooring, shingles, etc., had to be hauled by teams of 
 horses from Chicago. This was about 1840. The floors of the house were 
 covered with velvet and Brussels carpet and costly rugs, the furniture was 
 of mahogany and walnut— all brought from the east. The contrast be- 
 tween that log house and its belongings was so great as to excite the 
 wonder and admiration of strangers from the east who chanced to alight 
 from the stages and enter our pioneer home. Many amusing anecdotes 
 as to this were recounted by mother. Our house at the farm was on the 
 stage road leading from Peoria to Galena. There were for many years 
 only three houses between Dixon and Princeton, i. e., one at "Dad Joe's" 
 Grove, one on the south side of Palestine Grove and the other in 
 which we lived. After all, if my boyhood recollection serves me rightly— 
 father having nearly recovered his health, this circumstance, together 
 with many visitors and sleighing and dancing parties at our house, im- 
 provised by the young folks of Dixon, made us all quite contented and 
 happy in our new home. In a few years our parents moved back to Dixon 
 and lived at that place and at the farm alternately until their death. 
 
 Of those who were contemporaneous pioneers with them I now recall 
 the names of Major Sterling, Silas Nol)le, A. L. Porter, John Dixon, the 
 founder of the town of Dixon, and his sons James P. and John jr., Gil- 
 lireth, James and Dan McKenney, Henry McKenney, Lorenzo Wood, 
 George Chase, Judge Heaton, "Than" Porter, Dr. Everett, Paul Gallup, 
 Col. Dement. Max Alexander, E. B. Stiles, and McBosl (pronounced Buel). 
 The last named was a ttne performer on the violin and an all round artist. 
 1 remember that during a presidential campaign in which Henry Clay 
 was the Whig candidate the ladies desired Mr. McBoel to paint them a 
 l)anner with a likeness of Clay thereon, to be presented to the Whig 
 Campaign Club. There was no picture of Cla.v extant to copy from at 
 that time in that "neck of the woods," and so poor Mac, who was always 
 a gallant knight in his conduct towards the ladies, and regarded himself 
 in honor bound to please them, was pat to his trumps for a portrait from 
 which to copy Clay's picture upon the banner. So, as a last resort, he 
 liegan to inquire around among the people as to the general appearance 
 of the great Coii.moner. Alas! tume had ever seen him save old Doctor 
 
 — 422 — 
 
Jerry Coggsvvell, a prominent character of the town. Jerry said unto 
 Mac, "paint a picture of a luan about six feet high, of slender build, with 
 small feet and small white hands, a long head with a high forehead, large 
 ears, and when that is done paint in the middle of his face a big catfish 
 mouth." The caricature of Clay was then painted on the banner by Mac 
 according to the description of him as given l)y Jerry, the banner pre- 
 sented with due form and ceremony by the ladies to the club in a neat 
 little speech composed by Mrs. Nancy Noble, wife of Col. Silas Noble. 
 
 These early pioneers of the Rock River Valley were absolutely ex opii- 
 wo oprimf of the east, "generous to a fault," they helped each other in 
 the trials and tribulations incident to that early day. They were men 
 and women of education and refinement, they were self-reliant, independ- 
 ent, bold and daring, and with their coadjutors buHded a commonwealth 
 which is at once the pride and glory of the whole country— a common- 
 wealth that gave us Lincoln and Grant and according to its population 
 sent more young men into the army fur the preservation of the govern- 
 ment than any other state in the union. 
 
 But Father Time with a gentle hand has at last drawn about many of 
 
 them the shades of the evening of their useful lives; others are dead — 
 
 iiave passed over into the dark shadow of the valley of d»;ath. Over them 
 
 "Twilight has pulled the curtain down and pinned it with a star.'' Peace 
 
 to their aShes. 
 
 .loHN M. Wel'iy. 
 

GPeaT2iT2g^ flm&n^ Pioi^eer^. 
 
 WE uatunilly and rightfully dwell upon our comforts as compared 
 with those of our ancestors or predecessors, and it seems most 
 appropriate that in this, tlie beginning of a new century from 
 "ur country's discovery, we pause and gather some of the experiences of 
 the past, that may, perchance, assist the historian of the next century, 
 and teach some lessons to the coming generation of the expense at which 
 its blessings have been bought. It is certainly true that in many ways 
 life has today new and peculiar pleasures, and a retrospect may help us 
 to value them more highly. 
 
 The broad, free west had been the laud of many a youthful dream, 
 and when my thoughts turned to it as a veritable home land I pictured 
 some spot of natural beauty, with broad outlook, including many smiling 
 homes and a tranquil lake or murmuring stream, as my home. 
 
 I am not a pioneer. My first glimpse of the Prairie state was on 
 October 23, 1869, when, with my husband, i reached Chicago from Provi- 
 dence, R. I., which latter place we left Octolier 21. On the 24th we 
 reached "The Kingdom" and received a most hospitable welcome from 
 Mr. and Mrs. D. J. Wetherbee, Mrs. Wethcrbee being my husband's sister. 
 Mr. Cilmari had bargained for a tract of land adjoining INIr. Wetherbee 
 ,ind had already commenced preparations for house-building. We re- 
 mained in Mr. Wetherbee's family until early the following February, 
 when we commenced life in our own cottage, which in process f»f time 
 was christened ''Woodside." 
 
 I recall very vividly the wintry morning in November when I first saw 
 the spot upon which I have now lived more than a score of years. 
 Gradually the outook has widened, l)ut on that morning the blue -sky 
 above, and the snow mantled oaks around, were all that could be seen. 
 Then we wore within the limits of the town of China, but a year or two 
 after the township was divided and we took tlie name of the nearest rail- 
 
 — 427 — 
 
road station, Nachusa, also the name applied to the pioneer settler at 
 Dixon, by the Indians, which I once heard Father Dixon interpret as 
 simplifying ''white long hair." 
 
 We are at the extreme northwest li.iiit of Lee county, and our school 
 district is ;),hout equally divided l)etween the counties of Ogle and Lee. 
 Our neighborhood name "Kingdom" for many years bore no enviable 
 reputation, socially, and then carried a prefix which is now discarded. 
 We have come to think it a very tolerable place in which to live and that 
 the people compare favorably with other rural communities with similar 
 social and intellectual advantages. We have churches at different points 
 within a radius of four miles, namely: At Grand Detour, Nachusa and 
 Mt. Union. Twice a month we have services at our schof>l house, under 
 the auspices of the Evangelical association, which have been kept up for 
 more than twenty years. A union Sunday school was organized here in 
 1868 y\y Mrs. S. A. Wetherbee. and superintended by her as long as she 
 remained in the community. It is still maintained and has always been 
 an "evergreen" school. It is now superintended by Mr. L. R. Floto, 
 successor to John McCollum. We havw also (juite a flourishing L. T. L. 
 and a Ladies' Missionary society. 
 
 In an early day Cyrus Chamberlin, who then lived where Mr. Wether- 
 ))ee now does, V)uilt a stone school houseand donated it to thecommunity. 
 This house is still standing, having been remodeled into a tenant house 
 by Mr. Wetherbee. Miss ISant-y Teal, now the wife of A. O. Brown, 
 ex-mayor of Parsons, Kansas, was one of the first teachers here. She 
 remembers that her salary as teacher was twelve shillings a week. Mr. 
 Chamberlin was interested in the school and liis dwelling near. The 
 teacher was of the age of sixteen. He furnished ner with a tin horn, 
 instructing her that should she require any assistance to "blow the horn' 
 and he would come. After a time one of the pupils was refractory and 
 obstinate. She blew the horn. Mr. Chamberlin responded. She laid 
 the case before him. The verdict was that "the boy must take his books 
 and go home." When he reached home and told his story, the father 
 seized a whip and hastened to the school house to chastize the teacher. 
 Mr. Chamberlin caught the whip from his hand and bade him "go home 
 and teach his child obedience." The pupil returned in a few days, con- 
 fes.sed his fault and gave no further cause of complaint. Mrs. Brown 
 has for many years l)een actively engaged in Sunday school and temper- 
 ance work. 
 
 About the year 1S5U the district built a school house, locating it (»n the 
 hoiiiidary Ijet.vcen Lee and Ogle counties, called "the Red," within 
 
 — 428 — 
 
whose walls the writer tiiuKlit hr nearly ton years. "The Red" in turn 
 ^ave place to the present neat structure, built in 18H8. jSIr. C. C. Bucka- 
 loo is now doing acceptable service as teacher here. 
 
 Mrs. Isabel Teal relates that she came to this vicinity lron\ New York 
 state in 18.']t). Her husband, Elias Teal, was government surveyor. One 
 season he had much business in that line on the west side of the Rock 
 river, and moved his family there temporarily, occupying a rude house 
 near the river. Here Mrs. Teal was taken sick. Neighbors were distant. 
 The child of three months died in its sick mother's arn)s. They were 
 two days and two nights without food. The third night, late in the 
 evening, there came a knock at the door. To the inciuiry, "whv) is there?" 
 the reply was, "a friend." It proved to be a stranger who had been 
 waylaid and robbed. When he took in the situation, he kindly minis- 
 tered to the needs of the sick, going to the river for water, for which 
 they had ail suffered, and under Mrs. TeaFs direction prepared them 
 gruel, and then departed, calling at the first house he came to, to apprise' 
 them of their neighbor's condition. Help soon came and the health of 
 both was speedily restored. 
 
 Immediately following this experience Mr. Teal returned to the east 
 side of the river and purchased the land upon which he lived during the 
 remainder of his life. The price paid was ten shillings per acre. Their 
 house was of logs with an old (juilt for a door and a sliding bo;ird for a 
 window No mill short of eighteen miles: nearest market Chicago. 
 Mr. Teal once took some pork there with an ox team and had to sell it 
 at one dollar per cwt. 
 
 There were no t.iinisters of the gospel here in those days. A neigh- 
 bor's child died, and Ijut for Mrs. Teal they must have laid it to rest 
 with no word of Scripture or of prayer. There was, she say<. one dear. 
 Christian lady half a mile away, Mrs. Anthony, with whom she found 
 solace. They used to run together for sympathy and worship, though 
 timber lay between their homes and the howling wolves often seemed 
 very near. Sometimes she became almost desperate, but for her 
 children's sake she braved her hardships. Of her nine children, seven 
 v,ith their father, have gone "the way of all the earth." Two daughters 
 remain, l»oth in the west. Mrs. Teal is now past her four score years 
 and retains iier faculties exceptionally well. Of her reminiscences 
 thiTc are few ujirtii-provoking ones, yet she was (luite merry over one. 
 
 There was to be a government land sale in Dixon. She had some 
 money in specie that she had brought from the east and would like to 
 invest it in land, and she and Mr. Teal determined to go to the sale. 
 
 — 429 — 
 
She put her money in a hand-baj^', concealing' it beneath a circular cloak 
 which she wore. The land did not iH) to suit Mr. Teal and they made no 
 purchase. They went to a public house for dinner. She was afraid to 
 lay down her bag, and afraid to takeoff her cloak lest it be seen, and 
 notwithstanding they had a "quail pot pie" for dinner, which dish was a 
 great favorite of hers, she was so cumbered with her hand-bag that she 
 could not enjoy it. Returning home the cutter up-set in the snow, her 
 bag string brol<e and the money all shelled out. What could she do? 
 There was no alternative. She gathered up Hrst herself and then gold, 
 silver and snow all together, having many fears of leaving some behind. 
 But when she readied home they counted it and fouiid not a piece iuiss- 
 ing. 
 
 Whoever passes Teal's corner to-day and looks upon the broad acres 
 and nice buildings, knowing nothing of the beginning, could have little 
 idea of the privations and hardships that have brought into this pleasing 
 form this country home. 
 
 From an interview with Mrs. Lewis Floto I learn that with her hus- 
 band and eldest daughter, and in company with their friends, Mr. and 
 TNIrs. Herman I'.achman and their little son, they reached (»rand Detour 
 in the autumn of 1850. They could tind there no tenement or business, 
 so crossed to this side of the river. About two miles above the ferry was 
 a log house of two rooms, one of which was vacant, the other was to be 
 soon, and into the empty one the two families went. Mr. Floto made a 
 l)edstead of fence rails and upon it they placed their straw bed, but Mr. 
 I'.achman did not get his bedstead done, and they placed their straw on 
 the floor in the opposite corner, and thus they spent their llrst night in 
 their new home. Their table was improvised from rough boards. A few 
 benches, left by a former tenant, served as chairs. The house was old, 
 made of logs and unceiled. They could see the moon and stars above, by 
 night, and the sun by day. A short time after they moved their eldest 
 son was born. The winter was cold and it was with ditticulty that they 
 could keep warm. INIauy days the mother was obliged to keep her bed 
 with her babe that it might be coinfortable. 
 
 Mr. Floto, that v inter, chopped wood at forty cents i)er cord, and 
 boarded himself. When spring opened he found employment among the 
 farmers at seventy-tive cents per day paid in provisions. They knew 
 very little of our language then and often had ditticulty in understanding 
 and being undeistood in their intercourse with neighl)ors, but had the 
 advantage of some foreigners, ipasmuch as there were two families and 
 they were company for each other. As long as Mr. Bachman lived their 
 homes were near. 
 
 — 430 — 
 
Mr. FluLo lived in Lhiil lo^' house live yciirs. After the first, he found 
 etiiplovinent in the Grand Detuur plow shops. The wife stayed at home, 
 cared for her incrcasiing family and in summer made garden and grew 
 vegetables for family supply and for tlie vilhige market. The husband 
 took the orders, she prepared the vegetables, loaded them into a wheel- 
 barrow, and he wheeled to the river, crossed over in boat, and delivered 
 them before going to his day's work. 
 
 At the end of five years they bought sixty acres of land in Ogle county 
 just beyond the limits of Lee. Here they determined to have a home, 
 dug a cellar, raised a house and covered it, and then finished it as means 
 c'lme. It was against their jjrinciiiles to buy anything till they had the 
 nmney to pay for it. and they have maintained the practice through life. 
 
 Ten children have been given them, each of whom they have aided 
 generously when they have stepped from beneath the home roof to make 
 one of their own. One son and four daughters have western homes. One 
 daughter and three sons reside in the near vicinity of their parents' present 
 home, and one. Mrs. Emma Kioto Girton, passed to "the beyond"' five 
 years ago. The parents have retired from the cares of farm life with 
 ample means for comfort and even luxury. 
 
 Some of the first wliose acquaintance I made, and wliose friendship 
 has blessed my life, were dwellers in Grand Detour, said to be the oldest 
 village in Ogle county, and at one time tlie largest, but the Chicago & 
 Northwestern railroad drew business from it to points along its line and 
 its growth failed. Some t)f its present, residents are sanguine for its 
 future, believing a place so richly endowed by nature will yet attract 
 capital and ability. 
 
 History relates that in 1834 Lc(jnard Atulrus sailed in a canoe from 
 DixoD Ferry up Rock river to this point, and that he was nrol)ably the 
 Mrst white man to view the lovely scenery of this portion of the valley. 
 There he landed and laid claim to the beautiful site of Grand Detour. 
 The next season he and W. A. Housr-, with their families, took up their 
 residence there and built a log cabin. Their kitchen was located out of 
 doors, and their culinary operations watched by lounging Indians. 
 
 By July 4, i83H, there were two houses and a store. One of the houses 
 was used as a tavern, kept by Israel Hill. The other, occupied by W. A. 
 House, consisted of one small room used as a kitchen, dining-room and 
 sleeping room. For a dressing room a patch of tall grass near the river 
 bank was cut down, and there they made their toilets, using the river a> 
 their mirror. 
 
 The above named date was celelirated in Grand Detour l)y digging the 
 
 — 431 — 
 
town well. Mr. Riiel Peabody relates that on that day there sat down to 
 dinner in Grand Detour seventeen men, whose names he remembers, and 
 three women. The rooster was killed, and there he first tasted potatoes 
 in Illinois. The ladies' names were Mrs. Hill, Mrs. W. A. House and her 
 sister, Miss Sophronia Wetherby, who was the first lady teacher in Grand 
 Detour. One Mr. Goodrich taught the winter preceding her summer 
 term in a slab shanty of two rooms, in one of which he lived with his 
 family and in the other kept his school. 
 
 The settlement liad frequent recruits, aipong them— in 1837— a newly 
 wedded couple, Cyrus Aiken and his bride, Eliza Atherton, from New 
 England. Mr. Aiken's uncle had settled on Rock river and wrote such 
 glowing accounts of the country, including the oflfer of eighty acres of 
 land to the young people if they would come and occupy it, that they 
 scarcely hesitated, but were soon cnroute for the land of their hopes. 
 Reaching Chicago in the face of many difficulties they found a man who 
 for one hundred dollars was willing to take them in his wagon across the 
 prairies. When they arrived, after incredible hardships and weary 
 delays, what was their surprise to find so small a village— only two or 
 three log houses, and one in process of erection for themselves. 
 
 They began their western life in the uncle's home, with sometimes as 
 many as twenty-five in the family, crowded together in two rooms. When 
 after a few weeks their own house was finished they found the first night 
 they were not the only inmates. Too weary to put up beds they slept on 
 carpets and comfortables laid on the fioor of split logs. Waking in the 
 morning Mrs. Aiken saw something gliding along the side of the fioor in 
 the early sunshine. Examining, she found to her horror that it was a 
 large rattlesnake. Their first act of housekeeping was to kill the unwel- 
 come guest. Then as she went about preparing the morning meal, turn- 
 ing to the shelves nailed to the wall where she had placed some bread 
 brought with her, she found three gophers enjoying their breakfast from 
 it. These destroyed she set about putting her house in order, but it was 
 certainly housekeeping under difficulties. 
 
 Again it is related that her husband had invited two young friends to 
 visit them. She had stirred up a sponge cake, placed it in a tin "reflector" 
 to bake and turned to other duties. After a little her husband asked, 
 "What can I do to help?" "You might see if the sponge cake is brown- 
 ing," said she. So taking the hot but half-baked cake from the reflector 
 he suddenly dropped it from his burned fingers. "Never mind," she said, 
 "there is one left." A fragrt.nt brown loaf of fruit cake stood in the 
 window to cool while she laid the table. Glancing at her husband she 
 
 — 432 — 
 
saw that ho was lau^'hiritr must hcartilv- She missed the cake from the 
 sill, aiul reached the window just in time to see a wild ho^' roll down the 
 hank and swim over the river with her cake held caret'uliy out (»( the 
 water in his mouth. They remained in (Irand Detour ahont two years, 
 then moved on the east side oMiver to the land upon whicli ilev. Levi 
 Trostle has lived lor many vears. 
 
 They left hehind them a little grave, that of their first born, and to 
 the new home hrouglit the second child, a few weeks old. Tlie crops 
 needed care and they moved in before the house v.'as plastered or the 
 windows in. The fatnily was large, including helpers on the farm. Mrs. 
 Aiken's health utterly failed, and for months she was contined to her bed. 
 Three miles away, near Daysville, lived an aged physician. Dr. Roe, who, 
 with his wife, became greatly interested in the young invalid. Carefully 
 was she conveyed to their homeand tenderly nursed i)ack to health. The 
 doctor was a Methodist class leader and the only religious meetings were 
 held at his house, and Mrs. Aiken was most happy to meet with these 
 Christians in their weekly service. 
 
 From a book, written l>y Mrs. Galusha Anderson, entitled, "The Story 
 of Aunt Lizzie Aiken,'" I learn many of the above particulars of the 
 experiences of one of the most devoted pioneers of Ogle County. A 
 faithful earnest christian wife and mother, when bereft of the compan- 
 ionship of her husband and childless, she went about ministering to the 
 needy and suffering in such a manner as to win all hearts. 
 
 When the events of '61 filled the nation with sad foreboding, Mrs 
 Aiken showed her sympathy by exerting herself for the comfort of those 
 who had no l(,«ved ones to supply them with the necessaries of army life, 
 and as the want of nurses began to be felt, she gave herself wholly to the 
 work. 
 
 All ihroiigh the war from battlelleld to camp and hospital, with love 
 that knew n(» weariness she ministered to the suffering. Later, she 
 entered a Itroader work, in the general ht)spital at Mempnis, where for 
 many months she w.is like a christian mother to multitudes of our brave 
 .soldiers, light and joy springing up iti sad and weary hearts when "Aunt 
 Lizzie's"' step was heard. 
 
 In bStiT she was appointed missionary to the Second Haptist church in 
 Chicago, and has so faithfully labored in that capacity as t(j win the 
 grateful memory of a multitude and where her presence is still a bless- 
 ing. 
 
 Of religious associations in Grand Detour, the Congregationists were 
 the llrst to form a society. H was organized July y, 1837, and Rev. Colvin 
 
 " 433 ~ 
 
W. Babbitt became the Hrst paster. It consisted of twelve members, of 
 whom Mrs Esther Sawyer is believed to have been the latest survivor. 
 The church of this society was dedicated November 12, 1848. The lum- 
 ber was purchased in Chicajio and hauled out by Ruel Feabody, one of 
 the first trustees of the church. The society is now disorganized and the 
 building no longer exists. 
 
 The Hrst Episcopal service held in this place was at the residence of 
 E. H. Shaw on an evening ill June 1837, Bishop Chase officiating. The 
 pulpit was a three legged stool set upon a table and covered with a towel. 
 Tallow candles were used for light. The church building was coni- 
 Tucnced in April, 184!), and completed the following year. The Ladies' 
 Sewing society paid the first hundred dollars for luml)er, which was 
 bought in Chicago by PI W. Dutcher, who hauled the first load. The 
 house was consecrated by the name of St. Peter's church by Bishop 
 Whitehouse October 22, 18")2. Its Hrst pastor was Andrew J. Warner. 
 
 A Methodist class was formed by O. F. Ayers in 18:{'J. Its church edi- 
 fice was built l)y Cyrus Chamberlin in 1S.")7. at a cost of $2,51)0. It was 
 dedicated in January 18.")8 by Ilev. T. M. Eddy, Luite Hitchcock, and 
 Henry L. Martin. 
 
 The first Temperance societ,y was organized in February, KS.'W with a 
 total of seventy-one members. Chester Harrington, its first secretary, 
 still lives. 
 
 The first brick school house was also erected this year. Grand 
 Detour's present schoolhouse was completed in I8r)8 and was at that time 
 the best one in Ogle cour)ty. A mail stage line was established from 
 Dixon to Grand Detour in 1838 by Leonard Andrus and is still main- 
 tained. 
 
 W. A. House established the Vcivy and was first postmaster. Abram 
 Br()wn, now of South Dixon, was the second postmaster, receiving his 
 commission from Van Buren. He, in partnership with Kobt. McKenney 
 a brother of "Uncle Fred," kept a store for several years, selling out to 
 Chas. F. Throop. 
 
 Of the merchants of the early aays Solon Cummins was the principal. 
 Mr Throop continued his business there almost flftv years, retired from 
 its duties a few years since, but still resides in Grand Detour, its oldest 
 settler. I asked him of the recreation* and amusements of the early 
 days; if they had any? "Yes, and we enjoyed them too. Those were the 
 happiest days of my life. I remember the first pic-nic in Grand Detour. 
 We rigged up a team, found one old worn out harness in one place, and 
 
 «- 434 ^ 
 
another in another. Got one horse here, and another there, and the 
 wagon somewhere else, and went to the Ridge and had a day of real 
 enjoyment." 
 
 Again, "There was to havp been some kind of an entertainment at 
 Oregon. Mrs House and her sisler Sophtonia Wetherby both wanted to 
 go, but it was cold weather, and they had but one cloak between them. 
 One of the gentlemen lent Miss Wetherby his old green blanket coat 
 and she was just as happy wearing it as though it was seahkin." 
 
 Once, on a very cold night. Miss Wethcrl)y and Mr Thronp were 
 returning from an evening party. When two or three miles from hntiie 
 they became so cold the ge!)tleman alighted, threw the wraps uver the 
 lady, seized the horse by the bridle and walked home. Mi.ss Wetherby 
 afterwards became Mrs. Stephen Hathaway. 
 
 In those days the Indians sometin)cs aiinnyed the tidy housewife Ijy 
 walking in with their moccasins wet and muddy. To defend herself, she 
 would take the broom, point to tlie door and s;iy "Marcliee"" and they 
 would obey without otfense. 
 
 Mr. Abbt)tt, father of the famous singer, Emma Abbott, at one time 
 lived tw(j or throe miles up the river from Grand Detour. He was con- 
 siderable of a musician, and on ofie occasion was to supply the music at an 
 entertainment at Franklin Grove. One might, in those days, walk from 
 Grand Detour to Franklin Grove and from Franklin Grove to Jefferson 
 Grove without seeing a fence arid scarcely a dwelling. Mr. Abbott 
 started on foot with his violin for his companion, but found on entering 
 a tract of timber, tliat he was closely pursued by a wolf. He sought 
 safety in a tree which his weight bore almost to the ground, and in this 
 uncomfortable position, played all night on his instrument to keep the 
 wolf at bay. At daylight his unwelcome companion departed. It is re- 
 lated that, while living at the abcve named home, his daughter, Emma, 
 then perhaps twelve or fourteen years of age, hearing that Miss Kellogg 
 the vocalist, was to sing in Chicago, started on foot to hear her. She 
 was successful and by the aid of interested friends obtained an introduc- 
 tion to Miss Kellogg and by her friendly influence the way was opened 
 for the cultivation and development of Miss Abbott's musical gift. 
 
 The first visit 1 made with my husband, beyond walking distance, 
 after coming to Illinois, was at Mr. Ruel Peabody's home, on the Days- 
 ville r^-ad, some five miles from Kingdon. I had counted Mrs. P. and her 
 daughter aiu')Dg my friends from our first meeting at Mr. Wctherbee's 
 
 — 43o — 
 
home, Itclorc inoviiifT into our (iwn, and cvciy substMiuciil one has IjuL 
 adrk'd links to our friendship's chain. 
 
 Ml. and Mrs. Peabody are "pioneers" in Mie lull sense of the worrl, 
 the former scttl.in}; on the land on which lie now lives in is:i4. lie built 
 a cabin and lived as best lie could, till his mariiage fifty-two years ago, 
 to INFaria M. Newton, since which time they have together braved many 
 trials and hardships with unfaltering courage, writing their names l)y 
 kindness and love on many hearts. Three children were given them, of 
 wliom but one survives, Emma, who al)out the ti lie of my first visit 
 graduated from Oxford Seminary, Ohio, now the wife of Rev. U. E. 
 O'Hyrne, and at present ministering to the needs of her aged parents in 
 the home in which slie was l.)orn. 
 
 Mr. Peabody, although now in iiis STth year, and physically intlrm, 
 retairis his mental faculties remarkably well, and to him and his house- 
 hold I am indebted for various reminiscences. lie came from Newport, 
 N. II., in 18.'U. lie journeyed on foot, with a traveling companion, except 
 that they patronized the Erie canal and a boat across the lake, landing 
 at l\)lcdo. Averaged al)out forty-ilve miles per day. Chicago contained 
 at that day a U. S. garrison, with a regiment or two of soldiers stationed 
 there and ten or Lwelve houses. 
 
 A steaml)oat had landed the day before he reached Chicago with 
 about three hundred passengers, and to use his own words "we could not 
 get the privilege of leaning against a. post: had to walk on. Across th.e 
 plain whei'e Chicago now stands, for nine miles, the water was leg deep. 
 My feet was badly swollen. A man told me to put a pint of wlii,>key in 
 each boot and the swelling would go down. 1 said 1 would put if in my 
 boots but not in myself. 1 did. and it wt)rked as he said." 
 
 He, journeyed on until reaching IIdcK river. Clioosing his location, lie 
 built his cabin and roughed it, at first, with neiglibors few and far 
 between. He remembers countisig Hfty-six'deer in sight at onetime; 
 that he was the first to cross the creek above the present, Itoundaiy lie- 
 twceii Ogle c(Minty and Lee with a team. 
 
 In those days the Pottawattamies and Winnebagoes were liis frecpient 
 guests, and were ever friendly. '"Treat an Indian well and he will treat 
 you well" he said. Once when he had invited one to take dinner with 
 him, some (uie at table asked tlie Indian, "Wliy do you not use your 
 knife and fork as 'smokey men' do?" Indian replied: "I do not know 
 whose mouth the knife and fork have been in, but I do know where the 
 lingers have been." 
 
 In 1837 Hour was twenty-live dollars per barrel, and very scarce. The 
 
 — 436 — 
 
nearest market was Chica^'o and no means of transportation but o5< 
 teams. It took nine days at least for a trij), often from ten to thirteen. 
 It became ciistomarv to j,^o in company that they mi^jht help each other 
 over the Itad places, each team carryinjf rails with which to pry out the 
 wheels when stuck in the mud. They took their provisions and provender 
 for the wln)le time. Children didn't know the bearded, tired-oui 
 fathers on their I'eturn. The women ''who stayed l)y the stulT" had some 
 experiences, too. I asked Mrs. Peabody to relate some of hers, but .she 
 sadly said she "had so Uinjj been trying' to for^jet those days, she did not 
 feel like recalling;' them." Those vvho best know her life's history feel 
 that slie has, in the solitude of her hou'e, had many a contlict with lone- 
 liness and sorrow, enduring; all with heroic fortitude and patience. 
 
 One Mr. York, whom Mr. Peabody knew, lived at Byron eighteen 
 months before seeing a white woman. He was the ancestor of the York 
 prominent in the history of Kansa.«, tlie cxposer of the Benders. 
 
 1 will here insert some of the early recollections of Bradford McKen. 
 ney, a nephew of F. C. McKenney, now a farmer neighbor of Mr. Pea- 
 body's, but in the years of his prime, a lawyer of Rockforci, 111. His 
 father, Daniel McKenney, moved into the then just completed log hoi.se 
 in which he and his two interesting daughters n(»w live, on Nov. 2Tth; 
 18;n. It is the only habitable log dwelling of which I know. The only 
 Indians whom I reuicmber were camped at Washington Grove in IS.'J". 
 They were the Winnebagoes. Father took all of us children over to see 
 them. 
 
 In those days, the first house on the Daysville road, after leaving 
 Dixon, was John More's where L. E. Hart now lives. The next was a log 
 liouse of John Chamberlin's, on what is now knewn as the "Stiles place." 
 Then came Squire Chamberlin, but further east even, than where Mr. 
 Wetherbee's liouse n(»w stands. The Wetherbee Creek, at that time, was 
 crossed further east than now. The next house, and last one before 
 reaching my home, was on the place on which Charles Floto now lives. 
 Here, at my home, was a small poplar logcabin, twelve feet square. The 
 only otlier house in sight was Rucl Peabody's log house, sonic little dis- 
 tance north and east of the house they now occupy. 
 
 In the spring of '."JS a brother of Emma Abbott's built a saw-mill, and 
 also made shingles, on what is now known as the Atwood Creek, some of 
 the timbers of whicli aie now standing south of the ])ridge. He alsolmilt 
 a chair factory on the bank south of the bridge. 1 now have in my pos- 
 essian two chairs made tlicre. He sold out to Atwood. 
 
 I am sorrowfully aware that the foregoing incidents are liut a very 
 
 — u- - 
 
taeagre list as to numbers, interest and variety, of those which survive 
 in the memory of livinj? pioneers or their descendants, but circumstances 
 have been unfavorable to my seeking them out. One dear friend, Mrs. 
 Hillis, from whose interesting store-house I hoped to gather largely, has 
 been too much of an invalid to be invited to explore it, and the writer 
 too much of a "shut in" to fulfill lier hopes in regard to this paper. 
 
 How wonderful it seems to us that so many of eminence in all tiie 
 wallis of life were evolved from s.ucli lives of deprivation and solitude! 
 After all we can comprehend of the mode of life and lack of privileges of 
 the days when our beautiful land, now so rich in resources of progress 
 and enjoyment, was being uplifted from the abode of the savage, to be- 
 come the home of a higher and nobler civilization, how little do we real- 
 ize the cost? Papers and books fill our homes. They had none. Musi- 
 cal instruments abound and a diversity of adornment hitherto un- 
 dreamed of. Steam carriages transport us to and fro, and from end to 
 end of the earth. The electric wire transmits our messages of friendship 
 or of business. The telephone annihilates distance, and through it we 
 speak as face to face. 
 
 All these wonderful aids widen our opportunities for helping those 
 less fortunate. Human beings are remarkably responsive to sympathy. 
 It seems not wise or right to give all our time or energies to the details 
 of J)usiness or the pursuits of pleasure, but with so many advantages 
 above our ancestors, emulate them in every virtue, and see to it that our 
 progress in mind and heart keeps step vt^ith our advance in opportunities. 
 
 Mus. M. I). Oilman. 
 
DR. CHAS. GARDNER. 
 
Some: Pioneer Sliorie^.. 
 
 I WISH to disclaim, at the outset, any idea of acting as the historian 
 either of the township or of my parents. The former has been done in 
 
 more ambitious volumes than ours, and I have only some stories of the 
 pioneer days with which my father and mother were connected, that I 
 feltmi^ht interest their friend:^, and to pay some slij^ht tribute to their 
 ackiiovvled^ed worth. Had the call f(»r incidents and particulars in the 
 lives of other pioneers in Nachusa township njet with a full response, I 
 would gladly have yielded these columns to a more able pen; as it is 1 
 can only wish that more had done as 1 have, as well as time and circum- 
 stances would permit and theti our book would have been far more com- 
 plete and satisfactory. 
 
 1 also wish to offer a word of explanation for Mrs. Gilinan who follows 
 me, in the papers of this township. She, though a resident of Nachusa 
 township, is quite near the extreme northern end— and being something 
 f)f an invalid was unable to extend her inquiries much beyoiid that limit: 
 but as those whom she comW reach were old friends and acquaintances, 
 and' at one time, at least, citizens of Lee county, v,c felt that her paper 
 was a very pleasant addition to our colleciion. 
 
 In behalf of both Mrs. Oilman and myself I might (luote a remark of 
 an old settler of Lee Center during a revival. He was urged to take 
 more active part, V)Ut declined on the score of unworthiness, yet added 
 in his own behalf that he "was as good as he could Ijc out of the material 
 he was made of." 
 
 The force of its application to the Columbian Clul) sketches needs no 
 comment to print it, and I will go on with my story. 
 
 There has always seemed to me to be a similarity of spirit between 
 the pioneers of the Rock river valley that I have known, and theFilgrims 
 and Puritans of Massachusetts. Like them, they were of good ancestry, 
 they came from homes of comfort and abundance, many from those of 
 luxury, to the rude cabins and lonely prairies of the west. Like them, 
 too. they came to found homes. Theirs was no"papor city" speculation: 
 
 — 441 — 
 
no squatting for a time and moving on, imt the patient, steady settl in tf 
 of the country, and toundiiig of liomes for their children and children's 
 children. 
 
 They established schools and Sun(h»y schooU at once, i)uilt churches 
 and school houses as so(m as possible, imprf>ved the land, planted trees, 
 and laid the foundat ions of society amid difflculties of which we have no 
 conception, and all with more thought of us than of themselves. How 
 often have I heard my Grandfather Pearse say, as he sighed over the toil 
 and privation which my parents were enduring, "You may never reap 
 the benefit. May, and Charles, but y>)ur children will." And does not 
 the conditi(tn of our beautiful western country prove the truth of his 
 words? 
 
 My father came from a homestead still in the family l)y an Indian 
 grant of the year KiOO. My mother from a colonial tiouie on the shore of 
 Narragansett IJay, a church where for over a hundred years there has been 
 a Pearse in the choir and for over sixty in the warden's seat. Neither of 
 them had any thought but of a home equally dear and enduring for their 
 children, and it was a source of inexpressible regret to father that we 
 children did not share the feeling or care for the homestead after 
 mother's death. 
 
 Father had suffered greatly from some mysterious trjiibie whicli 
 bafHed the skill of the best physicians of P>oston and Provideiu;e and had 
 been completely cured by old Dr. ''J"'homsoii, the ftuinder of the Thom- 
 sonian — now Physio-Medical school. This led him to spend nearly three 
 years with that venerable man, studying his remedies and methods, and 
 when he left him with full credentials, to set up an "Intirnuiry*" in the 
 city of Newport, Pt. 1., then the storm of itulignation broke: His father 
 poured upon his head the wrath of an irate sea captain, threatening to 
 disown him (which he did not do), while niy mother's father, a more 
 gentle and godly man, said sadly, when asked for his daughter's hand: 
 "1 don't supposeyouv.il] starve in a christian land, but I cannot feel 
 that Charles has an honest calling." 
 
 P>ut 1 think my father felt, what his years of most successful practice 
 proved, that he had an "honest calling," to the profession of a physician, 
 rather than a mere money-making occupation; so he and mother were 
 married and bravely began their life together, in \S3'>. In spite of the 
 fears of the two grandfathers, at the end of two years father had the 
 largest city practice of any physician in Newport, and his intlrmary of 
 eighty ])eds was always full to overllowing. A year and a half more of 
 the necessarily severe labor connected with such a Held, told upon both 
 s » heavily that they felt they must nuike a change or fail in health. 
 
 — 442 — 
 
Westward Ito!'' was the cry all over the land, and in 1838 father cahae 
 to Illinois. He came first "prospecting," and I have often heard him 
 say, "I could have hought Chicago and not spent all I had." 
 
 The Rock River valley charmed him, and here he made his claim — the 
 farm which still bears his name, though owned by another— six miles 
 each way from the groves at Lee Center, or Inlet, Palestine, Franl<lin 
 and Dixon. On it stood the only frame house within that limit, and at 
 its do(jr the only tree, a scrubby thorn apple. 
 
 There were three rooms and a "real stairs," so it was "quite a place in 
 thosedays," mother used to say. It was sold about 1849 or '.>0 to "uncle 
 Bill Hopkins," and moved off the place. I do not know its ultimate end. 
 It stood very near the gate to the door-vard of the present house, which 
 is the third dwelling which has been built on the place, and is now owned 
 by Mr. Burhenn. 
 
 In February, 1839, father returned with his household goods, coming 
 by sloop from Newport to New Orleans, up the Missippi ayd Illinois 
 rivers to Peru, where he bought wagons to cross the country. We have 
 still a few pieces of furniture which he brouuht at that time, which we 
 cherish as treasures and heir-looms. Mother followed in June of the 
 same year, coming across the states. She was three weeks on her way, 
 bringing with her her little daughter, two and a half years old (mv sister 
 Mrs. Hawley) and a woman who was to lie companion and maid for a 
 year, in consideration of the payment of her fare in addition to her 
 weekly stipend. She stayed just three weeks; she was ■•homesick: and 
 she left my poor young mother (only twenty-two years old, t(' face the 
 foe, to the care of a large family, and much heavy work, to which she 
 was totally unused, alt alone, so far as feminine aid was concerned. And 
 we complain if we have to "do our own work" with seamstress, launtl- 
 ress, butcher, baker and hotel at our service. 
 
 Trials and discouragements thickened about, them. They were in- 
 volued in a financial scheme which the Rev. Mr. D. Wolf, husband of my 
 mother's aunt, with more great-souled ambition than business foresight, 
 had planned. This gentleman will always be better remembered in Lee 
 county for his business failures, I fear, than for the really g(.od qualities 
 of heart and mind, which his visionary brain sadly overbalanced. But 
 be that as it may, when father and mf)ther bad added the expense in 
 which he had involved them, to their other necessary demands upon their 
 means, they were left about as poor as any common emigrant who arrived 
 in the country with an old wagon and a liroken down team. 
 
 They lost nine horses the first year, and mother sold her liest dresses, 
 
 — 443 — 
 
shawls, watch, jewelry, every thin;.; she could spare, to buy st( ck and pay 
 help 'out doors and in.'' How often I have heard her tell of the red and 
 green delaine dress in which one of her maids was nuirried. She had no 
 counsellor; the resources for her tal)le vveie nieayer, and many of them 
 strange to her. i)ut she was one of those rare good cooks who can always 
 make something out of nothing, and will always give a welcome, and 
 share a meal cordially, even though it be the very plainest. The family 
 was necessarily large, and she entertained all so»'ts of people from Bishop 
 Chase down to the roughest man shivering with ague who begged to slay 
 till he was better. Never a '"movers" wagon" haulted by the gate that 
 she did not have a kind word, a liit of food, or a nourishing drink for 
 some homesick body in its cheerless shelter, and ican remember see.ng 
 twenty of these wagons camped about our premises on a single night, 
 (this was during thegold e.ccitement)and many times during bad weather 
 their stay extended to days or even weeks. Not infrequently both before 
 and after uiy recellection whole families were installed in the house while 
 the father prospected, or the children had the measles, or tlie motber a 
 bilious attack, to the great discomfort of us children, and, 1 doubt not, 
 to the sore trial of mother's patience. 
 
 To go back; all these losses and unfortunate plans might have result- 
 ed in much greater privation than they did, had not my grandfathers 
 kept informed and visited their children freciueatly; paying up the help, 
 bringing stores of clothing, groceries, dried fruit, bacon and salt Hsh, 
 and such other things as could be shipped, (there were no canned goods 
 then), but most of all, cheering and encouraging them by their very 
 presence. It was on one of these visits when my two grandfathers came 
 together, and witli them an old family friend, that they were made the 
 victims of a joke by the latter. They had the usual fortune of travelers 
 of that day in crossing the country by stage; were mired or "'sloughed" 
 seven times before they reached father's. Now in R. I. to get "sloughed" 
 is the exacti counterpart of our phrase "tight," or drunk, and it struck 
 Mr. Monroe very funnily to hear this new use of the word. So he wro:e 
 h(jme, among other matters, that "it was very singular that one could 
 never thoroughly know even old friends until he had seen them away 
 from home influences and surroundings. Who would have supposed that 
 men of the staunch temperance principles of Capt. Gardner and the 
 Hon. Geo. Pearse would have so fai' forgotten themselves as to get 
 sloughed, and that, too, seven times on the way to Dr Gardner's; yet such 
 was the lamentable fact." 
 
 The consternation which that letter caused was a source of amiise- 
 
 — 444 — 
 
iiictit iuid ;i jovial rciiiiiiiscciice Lo Llic end of Llic days of the lour oltl 
 Irieiids. 
 
 Fatlier lu'oii^^liL Willi him stores of nuts, seeds, cuttint^s, <fiat'ts and 
 slips, with which he planted a lar<;e ^^rove. still a heautit'ul addition t(t 
 the prairie landscape, lie also took ^ncat pains to secure a pleasing,' 
 variety ot fruit and ornanientHl trees about his house and alony the 
 street line of the entire farm, and many of the trees about the farm 
 houses for miles around are from his seeds and cuttin^^s, not only freely 
 ^Mven. but ur^^ed ui)on people that tliey mi^ht eujoy the shade and beauty 
 in time to come. 
 
 lie did what the ^'ovcrnment has done in the farther West, by 
 encoura^rin^f the plantin«f of •'tree claims." and I feel that it is nut idle 
 boast to say that Lee county owes more to my father's prec(!pt arul ex- 
 ample in matter of shade and ornamental tree planting', than to any 
 other man. unless it be to Mr. J. T. Little, who always understood 
 and appreciated father's efforts more than mo.?t people. 
 
 I will also add that in 1873 father built a lar^'e hay barn, the heavy 
 timbers for which he cut from the yrove which he had himself planted. 
 Mother, too, always had her '•flower beds" brij,Mit with old-fashioned 
 annuals, and also adorned with many choicer shrubs, bullis, and the like, 
 of which she always iifathered a full store on her visits to the east. In 
 1855, when my sister was married, she had eitrhieen varieties of roses in 
 bloom, the white ones which were the bride's special adornintr, being 
 from a root broutrht from my grandmother's, and that in turn from her 
 motlier's Hfty years l»efore. 
 
 Some months after mother came, her aunt. Mrs. Hannah D'Wolf, 
 followed, and purchased a home al)out a mile distant, on the place now 
 owned by Mr. Miller. The second house which she built is still standing 
 and in very good preservation. She was a singularly noble woman, a 
 devoted christian, and a heroic pioneer. What her counsel and C(Mnpan- 
 ionshii) was to my mother and the little circle of their ac(iiuiinlance 
 cannot be estimated, but it is an inspiratioii to those whose lives seem 
 hedged in l)y circumstances to see, even in these pioneer stories, how 
 simple, unatTected goodness wins its way and leaves its record liy noting 
 Die mention in various papers ttf such persons as Mrs. D'Wolf, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Uannum and otheis of whom nothing remarkable can be said, yet 
 whose lives have made a lasting impression on the minds and hearts of 
 those who knew them, and through them on i jany more. 
 
 Mother and she estaldished the flrst Sunday school on the prairie, in 
 Aunt Hannah's "other room," and there was never a Christmas or an 
 
 — 445 — 
 
Easter when, in spite uf privations and scant resources, they did not 
 keep the feast, and try to teach their children something net only of the 
 lessons of those holy seasons, but of the way dear friends were keeping 
 them in beautiful churches with services of praise and prayer "at home." 
 
 The first school in the township was kept in Aunt Hannah's house; 
 the children had been sent to Mrs. Edson's house before, in what is now 
 South Dixon. The first teacher was Miss Betsey D'Woif, a very lovely 
 woman, who soon after married Mr. John Barnes, a brother of Asal and 
 Nelson Barnes, well remembered in Dixon. Here, as elsewhere, it was 
 the pioneer women who made f'e sacrifices necessary to found the 
 schools. They did not wait for a school house, tjr until they could "spare' 
 a room, but freely gave up their own comfort and convenience for the 
 schools, or for religious services; and when the time came to put up 
 buildings they were among the first to help. Indeed 1 am positive that 
 if the records of every church building in the couniv could be searched, 
 it would be found that the first C( ntribution to their erection was from 
 the efforts of some "sewing circle," or society of similar character, and 
 that often the last payment for seats, carpet or furnishings was made by 
 the same unwearied workers. 
 
 The first death in the township was that of "old Michael", a man who 
 worked for Aunt Hannah, and she gave, at that time, probably about 
 1840, the little burying ground still called by the D'Wolf name. For 
 many years the little railing around old Michael's grave in the northwest 
 corner, was a marked feature in it: l)ut it has fallen to decay and there 
 is now nothing to tell where the old man lies. 
 
 Here in 1841 or '42 the first school house was built and Miss Betsey 
 D'Wolf again taught, also a Miss Hunter. The school house was after- 
 wards moved to the southwest corner of father's place, where it was 
 known for many years as the "Locust street school house," from the 
 numerous trees of that variety which father had planted along the road. 
 But the locusts are dead, and the school house removed to the crossroad, 
 where it bears the name of the family living near, "Hollister," a family 
 of old settlers whose kindnesses to father and mother are not forgotten. 
 tJi I do not think this group of pioneer women entered into tlie "good 
 times" of singing and spelling-schools and picnics and the like very large- 
 ly, but I have heard mother say that they greatly enjoyed their visits to 
 each other, the seconding each other's efforts to keep up religious ser- 
 vices and Sunday schools, to have their children neatly dressjed and care- 
 fully taught, and the exchange of letters, books and papers which came 
 from distant friends. In those days the sons of farmers were not so anx- 
 
 .- 446 -, 
 
iuns to get away from farm life, and if there were mure Llian were ncederl 
 at home there were not so many allnriny commercial colleges, clerkships 
 and the like to attract them, so they "worked out" for farmers who had 
 fewer sons— where they often mado pleasant additions to the family cir- 
 cle and were themselves benefitted. To these boys and her own children, 
 as well as mhny from the neighborhood, mother used to read aloud all 
 the books and papers she could get. Iler resources were better than 
 most, for our relatives in the east supplied her generously and regularly, 
 and her books and papers went from hand to hand till they were worn 
 out. It is gratifying, too, to be able to say that among those who li.s- 
 tened to my mother's reading not a few took higher and better aints in 
 lite from the taste which her reading cultivated. 
 
 Nor did my mother's kitid ottices in this oi (jtlier regards end with 
 pioneering days. To the end of her life her favorite text "It is more 
 l)les»ed to give than to receive," was constantly exemplified. The doors 
 of her iiome and heart were open to all who needed shelter and comfort, 
 and not a few will unite with me in bearing this witness to her strongest 
 cl)aracteristic, and to the fact that father was no whit less kind of heart 
 or sympathetic than she. 
 
 Not far from father's little house o.i tlie opposite side of the road Mr. 
 Thomas Brown had a little cabin, to which he brought his pretty bride 
 within the first year after mother came west. They were old fr'ends in 
 Newport, and the trials of pioneer life bound them closer to each other. 
 They did not live there very long but removed to Inlet — after that to 
 Franklin Grove— but distance never lessened the regard of the two fam- 
 ilies, and as long as they lived the fr"etulship and interest were mutual 
 and unchanged. 
 
 It is with keenest regiet ll)at 1 confess that the memory of my 
 mother's friends of that time is exceedingly dim and uncertain. I cafi 
 recall names, but when 1 try to remember particulars or incidents I am 
 at a l(»ss; so that vvhere 1 would gladly pay a tribute of love and esteem 
 1 can say almost nothing. Of Aunt Hannah I recall little except her 
 wonderfully sweet voice which led the singing in "meeting!:'," and that 
 she was very true to her promises, in proof of wnicli I remember hearing 
 that at one time, being in need of funds, she knit pretty baity "s caps, very 
 like those silk crticlieted ones tluit little people wear now— and, as she 
 c<»uld tu>t have a horse to drive on the day on wiiich she had agreed to 
 deliver them, she walked the five miles to Dixon after dinner, kept her 
 word, received and spent her money and was at home in time to prepare 
 supper. I have heard, too, that Mrs. Ileaton. Mrs. O F. Ayres, Mrs. 
 
 - 447 - 
 
Seaman and Mrs. Silas Noble purchased them at fifty cents each. Very 
 pleasant but indefinite memories are woven about all those names, as 
 also those of Mrs. C. V. Injjalls, Mrs. Ilaiuuim and all the daughters of 
 "Mother Whitney," especially Mrs. Abram Brown, mother's dear and true 
 friend to her dying day. Anotlier was "Aunt Sarah Trowl)ridtre,"' a 
 woman with strong mind and wonderful memory. Her home was on tiie 
 farm adjoining father's— but house, pleasant orchard, barn and every 
 trace of habitation are gone, and the family, too, are all numbered with 
 the silent dead. Aunt Sarah's long and useful life closed in a most fitting 
 manner— one Sunday morning in "Love Feast." She had just spol<en, as 
 was her wont, most earnestly to the young people, then referred to her 
 own life as having passed the bounds of youth and its trials, so that "now 
 all was peace'" — she softly repeated the word "neace," as she sunk into 
 her seat, and with its sound her soul went forth t(/ eternal peace. Her 
 daughter Lucy, afterwards Mrs. Wiemer, was a very talented woman- 
 many years in advance of lier surroundings and associates as a literary 
 woman, and in her views of the worlc and sphere of her sex. Had she 
 lived the county might have counted her one of its brightest intellectual 
 stars. 
 
 Mrs. Ozias Wheeler was another, a woman of firm convictions and 
 inost benevolent spirit. Her son, Montraville Fhitt, still lives in Dixon. 
 Mrs. Wm. Y. Johnson lived for a number of years in the house recently 
 owned by Mr. Aaron Morris, and I remeniber her pleasant calls and the 
 admiration with which I regarded her long green veil, which depemled 
 from the side of herb';nnet or shaded her kindly face. "Mother Uicii- 
 ards," Mrs. Edson and Mrs. Judge Heaton were dear, dear friends of my 
 mother's, and I have learned in mature years to prize especially two who 
 knew my mother in early days— INIrs. .1. T. Little, one of the loveliest 
 women in all the land, and "Aunt Sally" Herrick, whose comfort and 
 counsel has endeared her to many beside myself. 
 
 Mrs. Alonzo Mead, \/ho lived near us on the farm wliere Henry Bot-Iie 
 now lives, was another kind friend. Her daughter, INIrs. Laura lleynolds, 
 is still a pleasant visitor in Dixon at times. The other daughter was one 
 of tlie victims of tlie bridge disaster— ]\Irs. Millie HolTman. Her sons 
 are still living in Dixon ami are mentioned elsewliere. Time would fail 
 to mention the "Temperance Hill" neighl)ors and friends— the Leakes, 
 Moseleys, and others— or the Cartrights, Brandons and many more kind 
 friends of my father and mother. One especially dear still patiently 
 waits the summons to be gone, Mrs. Cephas Clapp, a woman of noble lov- 
 able nature, whose friendship is a privilege and blessing to all within its 
 circle. 
 
 — 448 -. 
 
My sister tells me that it is to Aunt Polly Ilale we owe the seeds of 
 many plants which she considered "^mkxI in sickness and good in well- 
 ness," and so brought with her from her Virginia home. She brought the 
 dandelion for "greens," and burdock for "drafts," catnip for the baby, 
 and tansy, wormwood, yellow dock and narrow dock for dosing grown 
 people, sage, dill, caraway, and coriander for seasoning. The hardier 
 plants took root in the prairie soil, spread rapidly and are hardly con- 
 sidered either useful or ornamental in these days. 
 
 She was a very mysterious person to my sister, for, presumalily from 
 the folds or her great apron, there had appeared in the family circle on 
 two occasions a wee red-faced stranger, and when, at (uie time. Aunt 
 Patty was to be asked to tea with other ladies, she entered a most indig- 
 nant protest, assuring mother that "Aunt Polly had better not come, for 
 there were all the babies that could be c.ircd for already. "" But as Aunt 
 Polly came without her apron the poor child's fears were not realized. 
 Her daughter, Elizabeth Hale, says my sister, "was to mother lioth 
 Aaron and Hur" staying her weary hands when the battles with care, 
 sickness, trouble, and hard work bore her to the earth: strong-hearted, 
 cheerful in spirit, willing, capable, blessed with virtues enough for three 
 ordinary women as we remember her, the most efficient, and the noblest 
 helper mother ever had, in those hard days. 
 
 1 think none of those who have been told of theabundant crops which 
 the prairie soil produced, and the very low prices they l)rought: have 
 noted the fact that the lack of machinery made it necessary to employ a 
 great many hands, and to make very long days— so that the work of the 
 farmer's wives was much heavier than at the present time. Threshers 
 had to stay two or three weeks, lunches were sent to the field twice a day 
 in haying and harvest, and for the men who took the grain to a distant 
 market. 
 
 All the meat was killed and cured on the farm, sometimes as many as 
 thirty hogs at once. I remember the great tray, four feet square, in 
 which the sausage meat was chopped with a whale-knife, (sometiiing 
 like a spade but smaller and straighter.) One year mother prepared a 
 barrel of sausage in skins, packed it in lard, and sent it to Chicago, as 
 her "venture," with the grain, she got— a calico dress that fadedl At 
 one time one of the children had no shoes, and mother had to put her in 
 a high chair because it was so cold. Some "movers" stopped over night, 
 and offered to sell a pair, which tlieir child had outgrown, but mother 
 had no money. Turning to a bag of pieces which hung near io And 
 something to wrap about the little feet, she saw through her fast falling 
 
 — 449 — 
 
tears, some money tucked in Ihc Lop of the ba^', and with it she bought 
 the shoes. Trobahly some traveler they had entertained had taken this 
 unobtrusive way tojrcpay them, and it seemed like a special providence 
 to And it just then. 
 
 At another time they had had no tlour for a long time, only corn meal. 
 A Jieighbor sent word that he was going to mill the next day and would 
 get flour if they wished. But they had no money and mother cried with 
 disappointment. Just at night two men rode up and asked accommoda- 
 tion for the night, and, contrary to the usual custom, paid for it, just the 
 price of a sack of fiour. A man was started on horseback at daybreak to 
 catch the neighbor and send for the flour. 
 
 At one of these times, too a rough man to whom father was indebted 
 (though the debt was not yet due) attempted to possess himself of moth- 
 er's cherished silver spoons saying as he seized them from the table 
 "They'll sell for something." Father took them from him, but mother 
 did not dare use them again until the debt was paid by my good grand- 
 father. 
 
 My father came west with tho intention of becoming a farmer and 
 giving up the medical work, which had been so severe a tax upon him 
 and mother In Newport, but it was simply inhuman to refuse to give 
 what aid he could to the sick and suffering in the new country. lie was 
 far too warm hearted to consider personal comfort when weighed against 
 such odds. 
 
 So it came about that in less than a year he was riding all about the 
 country, over the trackless prairies, fording streams, or getting 
 "sloughed," in a practice far more extended and ditticult than that of 
 the city had been. Sometimes in a sickly season he got scarcely any 
 rest, except in his buggy, and his faithful horse learned to go from place 
 to place with the reins lying loose on his back or to tind his way home in 
 storms with unerring fidelity, when, as father said, he could not "see his 
 own hands, or tell whicn way they were going." 
 
 lie often had to be not only physician, but nurse, cook, surgeon, den- 
 tist, lawyer, or even housemaid when he found families all sick and need- 
 ing these varied services. The enduring regard of the friends of those 
 days proves beyond question that he filled all the offices acceptably, 
 though his rewards were very often of a very unsubstantial character. 
 
 Mother often supplemented his work, going with him, sending pre- 
 pared food, or taking his place in milder cases or on alternate days, but 
 sometimes she had to sacritlce personal comfort or even more that he 
 might minister to those in greater need. I rc^nembcr one story whicU 
 
 — 450 — 
 
well illustrates this. She was not well one day in early spring' when 
 father was sent for to go to Buffalo. lie would be obliged to stay all 
 night, for the roads were bad, so he placed things within her reach, left 
 her with a wood fire, and two children in the bed with her, the month-old 
 baby and one two years old, promising to sioj) at Aunt Hannah's and 
 have her come down for the day and night. 
 
 For some reason Aunt Hannah could not come till late afternoon, so 
 she was alone all day, and a strange sickness came on her, probably due 
 to the room growing cold. The ice was going out of the river at Dixon, so 
 father could not cross and had to come home in the afternoon and 
 reached there before Aunt Hannah. Mother was just conscious enough 
 to hear him exclaim, as he opened the door, "My God I mother, are you 
 dead?" and knew no more for many hours. Had he been able to cross the 
 river she probably would have died before help reached her. 
 
 But if I cannot recall stories of pioneer friends with their names, there 
 are many which have no title that crov^d upon me as I write, for they 
 were household words, or bribes by which I was induced to sew patch- 
 work and hem towels, and so familiar that a certain bedquilt will l)ring 
 them to my mind as vividly as a photograph the original. 
 
 There is one— of the women who sat in her rocking chair in the back 
 of the ox cart and knitted placidly all the way from Inlet to I)ixt)n. Of 
 the man who had only eleven eggs when he started to town, so put the 
 old hen in the basket— when he got there the dozen was complete Of 
 another who always said he "was as honest as the times would admit." 
 
 Of the old Kentucky woman who was visiting an elderly lady and her 
 daughter one day and heard the former say that her false teeth did not 
 fit comfortably and she must have new ones soon. Before slie left she 
 asked the daughter to "ask mavy if she'd let her have them air teeth . 
 when she got her new ones, false teeth's so stylish!" 
 
 Of the peddler who offered his hand to one of the early scliool ma'ams 
 l)ut was refused politely. He responded at once that she "needn't feel 
 so bad about it, 'twouldn't put him back more'n two weeks, there was 
 another girl he could court up in that time!" 
 
 Of the first maid mother employed— who had never seen a carpet and 
 didn't dare step on it, "Thought it was bedspreads." 
 
 Of the girl mother saw on her first Sunday out in Illinois— who wore 
 a l>ol5l)inet lace cape made with a darning needle and knitting cotton, 
 and evidently felt herself the belle of the assembly. 
 
 Of tlie old clock (I have it still) for which father paid one hundred 
 
 - 451 - 
 
bushels of oats at ten cents a busliel, and Sister Mary's calico dress which 
 cost forty dozen eggs. 
 
 Of the only Indians I ever saw. It was one day in spring, when 
 mother sent me to the postoffice (at which dignity we had but recently 
 arrived). It was kept Ity Squire Wheat at the place now owned by Mr. 
 John Allwood Mother told me to hurry home, and would give no reason 
 when I asked for it. But I did not obey, I am ashamed to say. The old 
 squire did not find any mail for us in the little cupboard, about the size 
 of an old-fashioned mantel clock, which served as postottice, and I stopped 
 to play with "So'fy" Curtis (where Mrs. Matthew Schippert lives now). 
 But conscience pricked too much for me to enjoy to the full the remarka- 
 ble new editions of "Mother Hubbard" and "Dame Trot" which her ped- 
 dler father had just brought her, and I started down the road toward 
 home just in time to meet a great wagonload of Indians, who, in cliarge 
 of an agent, had been to some point east for their stipend from the gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 My frightened face provoked one of them to point his bow— unstrung 
 and endwise— toward mc, and I was sure I felt an arrow in my heart. I 
 screamed in a way that must have rivalled a warwhoop, and ran like a 
 veritable Indian down the road. How they laughed and yelled I I can 
 hear it yet, and I never shall forget the surprise with which I found my- 
 self really alive and unhurt when I came out of the faint in which I fell 
 at my mother's feet. 
 
 There is a favorite story of my fath'ir's which I had nearly forgotten 
 until reminded of it by hearing it repeated by Mrs. Geo. Morris, and as 
 it is too good to keep, I transcril)e it as nearly as possible in her words. 
 It slightly transcends my township boundary, but the reader will forgive 
 that when he hears the story. 
 
 "When the financial crash of 1837 sent so many eastern people to 
 the west, what would now be known as a syndicate, from Buffalo, took a 
 large tract of land not far from the N. W. depot in Dixon. Among the 
 men employed was a Gus Hawley, who had been a merchant in Buffalo. 
 His collapse had been so sudden and so complete as to make a frontier 
 wardrobe an impossible attainment, and as to oxen, I have an idea he 
 hardly knew what they were. He was blessed, however, with a happy-go- 
 lucky nature and the spirit which makes the best of everything, and he 
 accordingly did so. His first day in the field was a memorable one, both 
 to him and his friends. Arrayed in all the glory of fine broadcloth, ruf- 
 fled shirt-front and patent leather boots, he appeared at ihc 'helm' of a 
 breaking plow with four yoke of oxen. To avoid mistakes (and perhaps 
 
 — 452 — 
 
to help him to appear calru,) he had carefully noted thcnaniesof theoxett 
 on a card, which he carried in one hand, while he flourished his ox-whip 
 or goad in the other. This dazzling vision burst upon the delighted 
 company which had assembled as much to gaze as to assist, like a me- 
 teor, and his cheery voice calling, as he carefully consulted the card, at 
 each name, "Gee Ruck! and also Brightl" can better imagined than de- 
 scribed. 
 
 The older settlers will remember the way prairie grass cut feet and 
 shoes and hardly need to be told that he did not go out in his patent 
 leathers next day. I have never heard, though, that the hilarious spec- 
 tators of his first attempt took up a collection to replace them by more 
 serviceable foot gear, in part payment for their enjoyment, but it would 
 have been a very proper thing to do. Some member of this same party 
 was left in charge of the log house and the cattle while the rest of the 
 men were up the river after timber. The syndicate had left him nicely 
 provisioned, but when the party returned they found he had become tired 
 of bachelor's hall and gone to the hotel, exchanging their provisions for 
 his board. 
 
 Bachelor's hall was not made any more pleasant by this exchange, at 
 least, for the others, and Thanksgiving Day found them out of all sup- 
 plies but salt pork and corn meal. But early in the morning that great- 
 liearted woman and admirable cook, Mrs. Welty, appeared at their door 
 with herhusband, bent on giving them justcanse for thankfulness. Their 
 wagon was loaded with good things, even to the pies, ready for the table, 
 and as Mrs. Morris says, 'My father (P.M.Alexander) solemnly affirms 
 that he never tasted abetter dinner in his life,' which is only another 
 proof of the ability of the pioneer woman to meet any and every emerg- 
 ency; and that Mrs. Welty could do so, all the old settlers and their child- 
 ren will abundantly testify." 
 
 Having overstepped the limit of my township, 1 think 1 will give a 
 story told me by Miss Elizabeth J. Shaw, whicli illustrates another phase 
 of pioneer work, namely— invention. 
 
 She says that her father bought the first McCormick reaper in Sanga- 
 mon county, and McCormick himself, came out to oversee its workings. 
 The first day's attempt was a failure. Hundreds of men had gathered to 
 witness it, and the anxiety of the inventor must have l)een very great. 
 But when the machine would not work he left it in the field, entered the 
 house and threw himself in a chair. There he sat, speechless and mo- 
 tionless, for many hours (if I remember correctly it was twenty-four), 
 heeding nothing, touching neither food nor drink. TIhmi he rose, went 
 
 — a:>:\ — 
 
to the lUachiue, and took a small part to a place for tepairinK!— or ^otilti 
 similar shop. He soon returned, and the machine on irtarting again 
 worked admirably. Mr. Shaw started across the Held with a Hue young 
 team of Norman colts. His man, a stalwart Kentuckian over six feet in 
 height, stood on the "table" at the rear of the njachine to "rake otT," but 
 the team, unaccustomed to such following, took fright and ran at the top 
 of their speed the entire length of the large field, cutting the grain faster 
 than McCormick expected, no doubt. Our Kentuckian kept his post, 
 however, and never missed a bundle the whole distance, but when Mr. 
 Shaw drew up the panting horses at the boundary fence, he mopped his 
 prespiritig face and called out: "Good Lord, Mr. Shaw! If you're goin' to 
 drive that way you'll have to git another handl 1 can't stand it to rake 
 so fast." 
 
 C^uite a contrast to thih' story is the next one which conies to my mind 
 or tlie time when mother and autit Hannali were coming from Chicago 
 in the stage, each with two cliildren, and cauie to lilackberry Creek at 
 nine o'clock in the evening in a pouring rain, and found it so swoUeen 
 that crossing was out of the question .unless help came. Here my sister 
 supplements my memory by telling how a man came from a farm house 
 near,with a yoke of oxen and a wagon, to which tliey vve:e all transferred. 
 He told them "as long as the oxen walked they needn't be skeered, but 
 when they liegun t(j swim they must hold on to the seats hardi" 
 
 At every flash of lightning they could see the swift,dark water rushing 
 by them, and lUIing the wagon box, then the heads of the oxen, ana the 
 man holding the yoke, as he walked or swam by their- side. They were 
 badly "skeered" but they "held on hard," and they came safely to land. 
 Then the oxen went back and pilf»ted the stage over, and they re-entered 
 it. An hour later they found the road so rough that they could no longer 
 endure it, and by alternate persuasion and threats of complaint to the au- 
 thorities, they secured a halt, and the poor drenched driver sought shel- 
 ter in the stage, with them. To soothe the frightened children and prob- 
 ably to keep up their own sinking hearts, the two mothers sang hymn 
 after hymn, until day break. They found that they had been driving in 
 a circle over a field where rails had been laid preparatory to fencing. No 
 wonder it was rougli. lUit I imagine a more tired, wet and weary comp- 
 any never entered good Mrs. Harinum's nousc than they were, nor a more 
 thatdcful one. She rested and comforted them, as she did everyone, good 
 soul, and the next morning they reached home. 
 
 Ihit 1 think the t-tory tliat I liked the liest (tf all, though I invariably 
 
 — 454 - 
 
shed a feW tears over it, was that of mother's first visit to her R. 1. home, 
 in 184;], and with that 1 will close this raml^lin^' paper. 
 
 This was five years after motlier came west, and a l)al)y ^irl and boy 
 had been added to to the circle. This boy was the first j^^rand-son in either 
 family, and there were seven <4irls before him, so lie was proudly named 
 for the two <xrandfathers and my father said motlier must "go east and 
 show them vvliat could be raised on prairie soil." 
 
 After many contrivances they decided that the j,n-ain which would feed 
 the family for a year could ]te sold for enough to pay her faro. Aunt 
 Hannah was to go too, and she liad a load of tobacco to sell for hers. 
 They rode to Chicago in a lumber wagon in August and met the men 
 just outside of the city (my sister says that until the last few years she 
 has been able to recognize the spot). One man reported that "wheat was 
 lower and he had used some of the money— no use to come so far and not 
 have any fun," and the other's account was very similar. Regrets or re- 
 proofs were alil<e useless, so they drove to the wliarf of the little steamer 
 "Buffalo," not far from where South Water street now is. On the way 
 they counted their precious funds and found them all too little to go as 
 they had expected, and their hearts trembled with fear. I5ut mother's 
 courage rose and she said, "Aunt Hannah! Tin going home to see my 
 mother if I crawl on my hands and knees! we'll take deck passage," and 
 they did. 
 
 The Captain very kindly explained to them the necessary provisions 
 for such a place— perhaps ai)preciating the fact that tlicy were unused to 
 it — and gave them carriage robe" to supplement their traveling shawls in 
 the rough "Ixinks." He a^so gave orders to have tea and cofTee made for 
 them (for deek passengers "l)oar(]ed themselves'') and often took the older 
 children— my two sisters, Mary and Parthcnia, and William and Mary 
 Anna D'Wolf- for a walk on the upper deck. The little girls in tlieir 
 calico sunl)onnets, were soon on the ])est terms with both cabin and deck 
 passengers, and liad far more consideration, I imagine, than if tiiey were 
 to travel in like guise today. 
 
 Five days in the crowded steamer, six on the eiiually wearisome canal, 
 then, ofi the seventh night at midnight they had to change bojits. Wil- 
 liam, though ten years old, cried like a whii)ped school-l)oy, the weary 
 baby moaned sadly, the rain poured in torrents, l)ending the sunl)onriets 
 over tiie faces of the little girls, and to crown all mother lost her shoe in 
 the Hiud of the tank. 
 
 She spent all the time she dared looking, and had just given up, when 
 a kind-hearted man came uj^ with a lantern and found it for her. As it 
 
 — 45.") — 
 
was the only pair she had (she had made them herself) it was very grate- 
 fully replaced. At Albany they were again delayed, but here they found 
 cars and reached Sprinytleld that evening. The cars stopped at night 
 then, just as stage coaches did, and that night they slept in a "real bed" 
 for the first time, to the children's great delight. 
 
 Counting their funds very carefully in the morning they found they 
 could make the rest of the journey in a flrst-class car, and the delightful 
 exchange was made. The little sunbonnets had been consigned to moth- 
 er's baslcet. tlie baby's sweet face was tear stained, the mother's dresses 
 soiled and rumpled, their bonnets in ruins, their overtaxed nerves ready 
 to give way — but what mattered all this? They were in New England! 
 Already they could see the blue Narragansett, and when, on the eigh- 
 teenth djy from Illinois, they were set down at the door of the old home, 
 mother used to say, '"There was a feeling of rest and thankfulness in my 
 heart such as I never expect to have again until i roach the home of my 
 Father in Heaven." 
 
 Mother went east many times after that, and under widely diiTerent 
 circumstances, but no story of travel ever interested me as did that one, 
 and my childish ears never tired of hearing it repeated. 
 
 It reminds me again of the "sore trials" of the Puritan mothers to be 
 
 ol)liged to add that the baby boy of whom my fatlier was so proud died 
 
 before mother came ])ack to Illinois the next year, and that little Par- 
 
 thenia was laid in the D'VVolf burying ground the year after— 1845. In 
 
 1851 dear Aunt Hannah slept beside her, and n^.w father and motlier rest 
 
 there too. 
 
 Sephie CJaudnek Smith. 
 
More PiOT^eer Sliorie^. 
 
 WE have Icarnert from Mr. Thomas Leake's paper that his father 
 came here in 1840. He was accompanied by William Moody and 
 Isaac Means, two very familiar names to the old settlers of the 
 county. Mr. Leake bought a claim at Temperance Hill, the other men 
 secured work, and life in the new country began. In 1843 his family 
 came, and with them the families of his tv^o cousins, also a sister, Mrs. 
 Willars. The ways of distinguishing the three men (who had the same 
 surname) were varied and worth recording. There was John Leake, Sr., 
 who was also called from his occupation in England "Butcher John"— or 
 known as the man who kept a great many dogs and liked to have their 
 names "h'end with a h'l or a h'o so they could 'ear it well." 
 
 John Leake, Jr., was a cousin of "Butcher John" and was called "Mil- 
 ler John," or "John Leake on the 'ill top"— and his neighbors referred 
 with a smile to his plans to add a "h'ell to his 'ouse." Last tliere was 
 Daniel Leake, a brother of "Miller John," who was at one time one of 
 the wealthiest men in tlie township. Ills wife and "Butcher John's" 
 were sisters, and cousins to their husl)ands. The three men are dead, 
 and all the wives except Mrs. John Leake, Jr., who now resides in Dixon 
 with her son William. Her other son, John H., and her daughter, Mrs. 
 Wm. Chiverton, also live in Dixon. Her oldest daughter, Mrs. Clara 
 Priestly, lives in Iowa, and her youngest, Mra. Susanna Atkinson, in 
 Polo. Their home claim was on Temperance Hill, adjoining the lot 
 where the schoolhouse now stands, so they have true title to the "'ill 
 top." 
 
 The older children went to school at first at the schoolhouse in the 
 little yard now known as the D'Wolf graveyard— in the corner of the old 
 D'Wolf farm, and to Sunday school (with other children from a circuit 
 of many miles) in Mrs. D'Wolf's house, which she and Mrs. Gardner es- 
 tablished. 
 
 Mrs. Leake has given us some stories of pioneering days that are well 
 
 — i'u — 
 
worth a place here— illustrating as they do not only the straits in which 
 families were placed, hut the ready ingenuity which helped thetii out. 
 
 Her husband's tlrst bargai.i was to exchange his overcoat for a pair of 
 oxen, "Line and Brin," a line dress coat for a wagon (made by Mr. Gale, 
 the Lee Center wagoninaker), a plush vest for a stack of hay, and a pock- 
 et-knife for a whip. 
 
 During the next winter there was a long icy spell— it was six miles to 
 the nearest tinjber, and the tlrewood almost gone. The oxen were n it 
 shod and so were powerless to bring the load of wood so much needed. 
 (What boy of today would have thought that oxen needed shoeing as 
 much as horses?) But the father of a family would not be overc(,nje by 
 any such circumstanees. He could not get tiie oxen shod, so he shod 
 himself by putting nails in his boot soles, harnessed himself to a hand- 
 sled, and walked to Franklin Grove, returning at night with his load of 
 wood. 
 
 An aunt of the family, living where Chapman Leake now does, was 
 once alone on the place when a calf stumbled into the open well. 
 
 She vfas greatly puzzled to kn^.w what to do, but finally succeeded in 
 getting a rope over its head, whicn she fastened above to keep it from 
 drowning while she ran to her sister's, Mrs. Willars'. She ran at the top 
 of her speed across the prairie, and reached her sister's completely ex- 
 hausted, and recollecting as she entered the house that she had made a 
 •'slip noose" in the rope, she breathlessly added to her hasty story. "Y(»u 
 needn't 'urry, Susan, the calf will be 'anged before we can get there." 
 But Susan was prompt and energetic and she "'urried" fast enough to get 
 the calf out safe and sound. 
 
 Daniel Leake lived on the Chicago road, in Nachusa township, and 
 built there the handsome brick house, which was for so many years the 
 largest and handsomest farmhouse on the road. His sons. Chapman, who 
 lives on what was the -'Mosley place" in an early day, not far from his 
 father's homestead; Russell, now a resident of Dixon; Jarvis, living on 
 the homestead; and Fred, a merchant in Amboy, comprise his family. 
 
 They, too, tell a single story from their many pioneer experiences, for 
 like so many others among the children of the early settlers, they do not 
 recall with distinctness the stories they have heard their parents tell. 
 
 Is this not a proof that such a record as this little book will be, is well 
 worth preserving for the children of the future? 
 
 One day in the early '40's Mrs. Leake and tho children were alone on 
 the place when they saw a groat cloud of smoke rolling up from the south- 
 west. There had been a long dry spell, and it needed ))Ut a glance to 
 
 — 458 — 
 
show them that the prairie Was oh tire, and that they were in tiie path 
 of the destroyer. What could they do? 
 
 We can little imagine their distress or their helplessness. But "Mill- 
 er ^Tohn" had seen the cloud also, and with his stout nephew, William, 
 was soon hurrying to their rescue. 
 
 The oxen were grazing near the house, the plows were close at hand, 
 and they were hastily yoked and set at work. Back and forth they went 
 about the buildings and grain stacks, until the oncoming flames scorched 
 Mr. Leake's hair and beard and the hair of the faithful oxen. Mrs. Leake 
 and the children carried water, and with mops and brooms fought the 
 ttre, and wet the grass and stacks inside the furrows, so they were saved, 
 and then Mr. Leake and William liurried off to help someone else, who 
 might be in the same strait. 
 
 There is another story of a family in this neighborhood which is truly 
 pathetic. 
 
 A mother had aied in August, leaving a three-days' babe, and two 
 other children, only a little older. They lived in a house with but a 
 single room, where were cookstove, cupboard, table, bed and chests of 
 clothing In the August heat, the funeral must be held the next day; so 
 a man was sent at once to Inlet for the coffin. There was a mistake in 
 the measurement, which was not discovered until the next morning, 
 when a second messenger was started, with the correct dimensions. 
 
 A little girl then, who remembers the funeral, tells that the people of 
 the neighborhood gathered for the services early in afternoon, and grew 
 more and more anxious as the sun went down the western sky and there 
 were no signs of man, team or coffin. But at last, as some were feeling 
 that they must go home for the "chores," the team, hard driven, appeared 
 over the hill, with something red in the wagon. The pitiful truth was 
 that the cabinet maker dared not use the black paint usually put on the 
 rude pine coffins of that day, lest it should not dry in time for the fun- 
 eral. So he painted it witli red lead, the only other color he had, which 
 dries very quickly 
 
 There was no time to think of the incongruity, no time to make any 
 change, the poor young mother was laid in her red coffin and borne to the 
 grave-yard at Temperance Ilill by her friends and neighbors. Yet had 
 she died today she was one who would have been laid to rest in a beauti- 
 ful casket, covered with the choicest flowers; they loved her none the 
 less, the frail body was none the less tenderly bandied, but the contrast in 
 resources is a pathetic one. 
 
 One of the Leake Family. 
 

]Nref5cf)T2. 
 
 THE U)wn of Nelson, comprising' about Iwo-thirds of a s-ix-inile-s'fiuare 
 township, has not yet become so populous nor so abounding in 
 wealth as to occupy an exalted position among the sisterhood of 
 the family in the household of Lee county, and yet it yields to none in 
 its claims for merit and respectability. Beautiful Rock River forms its 
 northern boundary, and the Chicago & Nortnwestern railroad runs 
 through from east to west, crossing the river at the western line of town. 
 Nearly midway between Dixon and Sterling lies the unpretentious little 
 village of Nelson, a quiet burg, most of whose male inhabitants earn an 
 honest livelihood in the employment of the railroad company. The large 
 and commodious school house at the station is used for occasional reli- 
 gious service as well as other meetings, and the school is kept in a flour- 
 ishing condition by the employment of first-class teachers. Most of the 
 farming land in the town is of excellent quality, and the prosperity of its 
 farmers is shown by elegant dwelling houses and by large, fine looking 
 barns. Indeed, few towns in Lee county can boast of as beautiful farm 
 buildings as are found in Nelson. 
 
 The llrst settlers, few in number but resolute and energetic, located 
 in the town during the thirties and forties when Nelson as a corporate 
 town had noexistence further than being an adjunct of Dixon. In 1850, 
 two years after the opening of Nelson station, the town became an in- 
 dividual entity. 
 
 Among the pioneer settlers who had rouglied it in tlic township dur- 
 ing the period of its infancy were Chas. F. Ilublxird, Lewis Brauer, Na- 
 than Morehouse, Luther Stone, Abncr Coggswell and the father of Col. 
 Noble— I cannot recall his christian name now. Tne only one at present 
 living of those h<mored pioneers is Chas. F. Hubbard, who still occupies 
 the farm on which he first located and whose dwelling house is still 
 nestled In the primeval forest. 
 
 — 463 — 
 
Although the situation of Nelson station is such as does not invite 
 business enterprise at present, yet it may eventually grow and become a 
 sharer in the prosperity of its two ambitious and progiessive neighbors, 
 Dixon and Sterling. The Hennepin canal will traverse the whole 
 width of the town along the southern side of Rock River. What effect 
 that is destined to have on tbe growth of the village remains to be seen. 
 The rolling surface, with ample natural drainage, makes the most desii- 
 able kind of building lots and the convenience of getting the bCvSt and 
 purest water at a depth of not more than twenty feet is an advantage de- 
 serving the first consideration in selecting a place for founding a home. 
 "Large streams from little fountains flow," and who shall say that Nelson 
 may not yet merge from obscurity to take its rank among the proud cities 
 of the west? 
 
 The first settler at Nelson gives the following account oT his 
 experience as a pioneer: "I came to this place from the state of New 
 York in the fall of 1857. The railroad had been built west from Dixon 
 two years previously, and the company was then doing grading and put- 
 ting in switches and sidetracks for the station. There were then few 
 improved farms in the township, though a number of emigrating farmers 
 from Somerset county, Pennsylvania, were settling in the eastern part, 
 with the aid and under the guidance of a robust, energetic and enter- 
 prising leader, Rev, Wm. Uhl. My first project was the purchase of a 
 small school house three miles distant and moving it to the station to be 
 used as a grocery. I stocked this improvised store with an assortment 
 of sucli articles as farmers most needed, and by dealing also in lumber and 
 coal I was tolerably successful in getting a fair run of trade. At that 
 time many were having fever and ague, and the sale of quinine was one 
 of my scmrces of income. Mercantile buiness was something in which I 
 had never had experience, and my lack of knowledge of local idioms was 
 sometimes embarrassing. Once I remember a little Irish girl astonished 
 me by coming to my grocery and saying she was sent to get Queen Ann. 
 'What is it you want?' I asked. 'Queen Ann, sir!' 'What do you want to do 
 with Queen Ann?' 1 inquired. 'My mother has got the fcver'n'ager, an' 
 she 'onts some to take, sne docs!' 'Oh! Oh! yes,' said I, beginning to com- 
 prehend, 'You want quinine, do you?' 'Yes, sir. Queen Ann,' replied she. 
 The little lass knew no other name than Queen Ann for the popular an- 
 tidote to intermittent fever," 
 
 At that time prairie wolves were seen in Nelson as often as dogs are 
 seen now. There were then few fences, no graded roads, no covered 
 buggies, no tuneful organs, no luxuries of any kind, and yet, with all their 
 
 — 464 — 
 
hardships and privations, those hardy early settlers seemed happy and 
 contented, cheered by the hope of realizing: after a few years' rout^hin^ 
 not only coiupctence, but wealth, from the products of the fertile prairie 
 soil. 
 
 II. L. 11. McKlNSTKY. 
 
Tfie 
 
Pe\fT2Q^ra ^ncl liBe ¥<\?myr^:\n^. 
 
 V.Y ONK OF THEM. 
 
 AN old Latin writer has said that "Many great men lived before 
 Agamemnon, but that all memorial of them had perished for want 
 of a chronicler." As one of the few survivivors of pioneer days in 
 the town of Palmyra, I have been asked to preserve the memory of them 
 by writing my recollections of those days and of those who took part in 
 them. I have done this in the form of a personal narrative, as better 
 suited to give my impressien of that time than any other form: and I 
 preface it with a slight account of the early history of the state of Illi- 
 nois, of which, in the opinion of the inhabitants, Palmyra forms no in- 
 considerable portion. 
 
 By the treaty of Paris, 109 years ago, Great Britain made over to the 
 United States all the north-west territory, comprising the state of Illi- 
 nois and all the upper Mississippi valley. A splendid domain which 
 twenty years earlier the colonies had assisted the mother country to 
 snatch from France, after tough, bloody wars, in which the cohmies 
 gained such knowledge of the military art as served them in good stead 
 when the struggle with Great Britain came. IIow little trace of France 
 is left in the stale which they wore the first to colonize. Some few towns 
 and streams still bear the names of those bold explorers and pious mis- 
 sionaries who dared all in the service of God. LaSalle in 1()S2 planted the 
 first colonies at Cahokia and Kaskaskia. With him was associated Hen- 
 nepin, who gave his name to another Illinois town, and to our hoped for 
 canal. Jollet, a civil engineer and explorer, is remembered by a nourish- 
 ing city and one of the largest state prisons in the United States. The 
 Jesuit father, Marquette, who accompanied Joliet in his voyage of dis- 
 covery down the Mississippi in 1G73, founded the mission at Sault Ste. 
 Marie in 1608. His memory is still cherished by all. * Mnhifoiie^ ante 
 Agmemuome7i vexere do— who cherish brave deeds and pious lives. 
 
 Less than seventy-eight years ago Chicago was unheard of— Fort 
 Dearborn and a few trader's cal)ins were all that were to show fnrib the 
 
 — 4tin — 
 
sreat city, second now only to New York in the United States. Terri- 
 toiial lines between Illinois and Wisconsin had been settled, and the lat- 
 ter state claimed a large part of what is now Co(»k county— thus cutting 
 off our state from the shores of Lake Michigan. To Judge Nathaniel 
 Tope, father of the late Major Gen. Pope, U. 8. A., we in agreat measure 
 owe the possession (.f this great porton tne lake which hasgiven agreater 
 impetus to the prosperity of the state than any other cause. He was one 
 of the commissioners to settle the boundrry line and insisted on having a 
 lake port, giving the very sufficient reason that otherwise Illinois would 
 became to all intents and purposes a slave state, the sympathies of her 
 early settlers and her trade being already entirely with the South. Judge 
 Pope became the first Secretary of State when Illinois was admitted to 
 the Union in 1818, as a free state. In 1823 an effort was made to alter the 
 constitution of the state to admit slavery. The contest was a very bitter 
 one and the free soilers carried tlie day by a very small majority, electing 
 as governor, Edward Coles, a strong anti-slavery man, though a Virgin- 
 ian and a slave owner, who had brought his slaves to this state a.id freed 
 them. The English cctlony in Edwards county threw all their influence 
 and many votes on the side of free soil which contributed greatly to tlie 
 victory. This was a flourishing colony of English people planted by Mor- 
 ris Birckbeck and George Flower. The latter wrote a very interesting 
 account of it lately published by the Chicago Historical Society. The 
 truth is at that time and for many years after, numbers of negroes were 
 held virtually as slaves in the southern part of the state where they were 
 employed in the salt works, raising cotton, etc. 
 
 Prior to 1834 there was very little attempt at white settlenient in this 
 northwestern part of the state; up to 1832 it remained the happy hunt- 
 ing ground of various Indian tribes. Sauks and Foxes, Pottawatomies 
 and Winriel)agoes. In that year Black IlawK, one of the chiefs of the 
 Sauks and Foxes, who had never agreed to the treaty l)y which his tribe 
 liad ceded their land on tlie banks of Ilock River to the United States 
 government, against the ojiposition of the liead chief, Keokuk, who was 
 always friendly to the whites. Ijrouglit his band back across the Missis- 
 sippi to hunt about their old homes. His ]>arid was fired on by some 
 white settlers and this brought on the Black Hawk war in which some 
 lives and much money were expended. It has been computed that every 
 Indian killed in battle cost the government $10,000, in this war; from the 
 number of men employed and the few Indians killed it was fully up to 
 the mark. The war was also memorable from the number of big bugs, 
 
 *.See Ford's History of Illinois. 
 
 — 470 — 
 
if 1 may be allowed the expression, still in the chrysilis state who were 
 atone time assembled at Dixon's Ferry while tal<ing part in the war, 
 Volunteer Captain Abraham Lincoln, Captain Zack Taylor, U. S. A., 
 Lieutenant Jeff Davis and Lieutenant Anderson of Sumpter fame. Even 
 the Commander in Chief. General Scott, was sent to tlie seat of war, 
 wliich was ended at the battle of the Bad Axe, near tlie Wisconsin river 
 and Black Hawk and The I'rophe*., who was the real soul of the war gave 
 themselves up and afterward visited the eastern cities wliere they were 
 exhibited as a farce show. 
 
 By 18.34 most of the Indians had been removed to the west of the 
 Mississipyi river and white settlers began to occupy their former homes. 
 All this northwest part of the state was then Joe Daviess county, then 
 up to 1840 we were in Ogle county, with the county seat at Oregon. In 
 that year Lee county was set off, with the county seat at Dixon, and the 
 present court house was built, S. W. Bowman, of Dixon, being the con- 
 tractoi. The county was not then under township organization, there 
 were three county cemmissioners, Nathan Wliitney, of Franklin; Jas. P. 
 Dixon, of Dixon; and F. Ingalls, of Inlet Grove; Judge Stone, of Galena, 
 Circuit Judge; Isaac Board.nan, Count> Clerk: George W.Chase, Circuit 
 Clerk; Michael Fellows, of Gap Grove, Recorder; John Morse, of Gap 
 Grove, Treasurer; A. Wakelee, Sheriff; Joseph Crawford, County Survey- 
 or. The only survivor of these, the first county oflicials, is Michael Fel- 
 lows. In the fall of the same year, 1840, the land office was removed 
 from Galena with Colonel Dement and Major IlacKelton, receiver and 
 registerer. The titles of these gentlemen were gained in the Black Hawk 
 war, in which they were favorably mentioned. The government lands in 
 this country had not at that time been fully surveyed and were not open 
 lor entry till 1842. They were supposed to contain valuable mineral, the 
 Galena lead ore, and had been reserved on that account. 
 
 As 1 have said, in 1845 settlers began to flock into Gap Grove, those 
 from the southwest by way of Peoria, those from the northeast through 
 Chicago, crossing at Dixon, where in 1828 a half breed named Ogee had 
 started a ferry, bought out in 1830 by John Dixon, who had formerly 
 kept a clothing store in Chatham street, New York City. Iti connection 
 with this account I have written out a list of the settlers in Palmyra up 
 to 1840 inclusive, which embraces almost all of them, tho' some ujay hiive 
 escaped me. 
 
 Most of these early settlers were hard working men of t he farmer class^ 
 with small means,who were glad to exchange the worn-<iut farms of New 
 England for the fertile prairies of the west. Tlius. again, tliere were 
 
 — 471 — 
 
some who, impelled by the spirit of adventure and unrest which keep so 
 many Americans frontiersmen all their lives, catnc, tarried with us for a" 
 while and moved on to pastures new. 
 
 But there was a colony of a different class which settled along Rock 
 River between Palmyra and Grand Detour. These came from the city 
 of New York and were led to seek a western home in the followinij man- 
 ner: Twoyountj men, Messrs. William Graham and Chas. Ilubljard, left 
 New York in the spring of 1837 on a hunting expedition, and stopperl 
 for a time near Dixon; having been joined on the way by Mr. John Carr, 
 formerly of the British navy. Carr subsequently went to Hong Kong, 
 China, founded a flourishing newspaper, "2'/ie Houq Kong Oazette and 
 Friend of China." made a fortune and returned to his native Scotland 
 to spend it — the only instance of any of these early New York colonists 
 attaining to prosperity. Mr. Graham was so charmed witli thi.-. beauti- 
 ful country that he induced his father, Captain Graham, to l)riiig his 
 family out here. Their coming induced others of their friends, so that 
 quite a numerous settlement was formed, all having considerable means 
 for a new country, which they were not long in getting rid of in a wilder- 
 ness when all the comforts and conveniences of life which seemed indis- 
 pensable to them could only be procured at a very greatly enhanced price, 
 if at all. They came looking for an Arcadia, the Blest, in these flower- 
 bedecked prairies, and found privation, poverty, sorrow, sickness and 
 death. Their illusions were short lived, shorter and more tragic than 
 those of tlie Boston literati who tried to establish Arcadian simplicity 
 at Brook Farm. Shakespeare says. "All the world is a stage, the men 
 and women merely players." To the young it was a comedy of errors 
 which they rather enjoyed playing, raising and cooking their own food, 
 si)ltining, weaving, knitting their own raiment, and even the very priva- 
 tions they endured but enhanced the pleasures of a wild, free life, rid- 
 ing, fishing, boating, dancing, plenty of society, books and music. But to 
 the older members of the cf)iiimiinity It was a most serious tragedy fr(«m 
 which they saw no escape save by leaving the place as soon as possible. 
 All who could get away did so, leaving the remainder to settle down to 
 the new order of things as best they could. 
 
 Of this colony my father's family formed a part. It consisted of 
 father, mother and seven children. Three servants, a carpenter, a far- 
 mer and his family, J. C. Lingham, a former partner in business, and 
 Alex Campbell, a nephew, were also of the party. 
 
 My cousin Alex Campbell and myself were the pioneers of the party. 
 We readied Dixon's ferry, as it was then called, on the 9th of August, 
 
 — 472 — 
 
1830, and our llrst oljject was to llnd my father's partner, who had ar- 
 rived.a little in advance of us and was to see to the purchase of land and 
 the removal of the family to the west. We found him the guest of Capt. 
 Hugh Graham, a retired ship master of New York and who had come to 
 the country the preceding year and bought a squatter's title to some 
 seven hundred acres of land from John Dixon. He had a large family of 
 highly educated daughters and sons, and with the boundless hospitality 
 of the day we also became his guests, but it required all the elasticity of 
 a frontier house to contain his family of ten, with Ave servants and six 
 guests. 
 
 As the most important member of the New York colony a short 
 notice of Captain Graham will not be amiss. A native of Belfast, Ireland, 
 he was at one time an officer in the British navy, but left that service for 
 that of the American merchant marine and for many years comnnindcd 
 the finest vessel of the Black Ball line of American packets. Many were 
 the adventures by flood and field which he had gone through. In 1798, 
 being then mate of an East Indianuin, he was shipwrecked near the 
 island of Ascension, at that time the loneliest spot on the globe. A raft 
 was formed and provisioned for most of the passengers and part of the 
 crew, which was never heard of again; the long boat with fourteen and 
 the captain and his gig with four succeeded, after being buffeted two 
 days and a night, in reaching this uninhabited island. The captain of 
 the ship had refused to leave it and with his son, who would not leave 
 his father, went down with her. On the island were a Newfoundland 
 dog and some goats which had probably escaped from some wreck. These 
 were too wild to be approached, but there were great quantities of sea 
 birds so tame thoy could be readily killed with a stick. On these, with oc- 
 casionally fish, turtles and their eggs, the party subsisted. After a time 
 they made an attempt to leave the island; the ship carpenter broke up 
 the gig and with this material and some driftwood made outriggers to 
 tlie lorigl)()at, which they thought would thus float the whole company, 
 vvitli sutlicient water and provision;^, for which they laid in a stock of 
 salted birds; but on coming to the beach to embark they found the boat 
 gone and four of their number missing. They must have reached the 
 mainlaiid safely, for Cai)tain Graham met one of the party many years 
 afterwards and did not kill him as lie had iiromiscd iiimself the pleasure 
 of doing. The others thus deserted lived a year longer on the island, till 
 they were taken off by Sir Thomas Williams in the Endymion frigate oc 
 the British navy, who had stopped there to catch turtles. In after years 
 
 — 47:5 — 
 
a cave on the island served as a postottice for vessels which put in there 
 to get or leave letters and take in a supply of turtles. 
 
 Soon after our arrival a squatter's title to a claim of some five hun- 
 dred acres was bought from C. P.. Bush for fifteen dollars an acre. Part 
 of this land had been staked out in tf)\vn lots, a ferry and a log store had 
 been in operation. The boat was gone and the store empty. We made 
 a stable of it. There were, besides, three large log houses connecting 
 with each other. Into these 1 moved with my cousin, a brother who had 
 joined us, and a carpenter, well known afterwards as Tommy Seallan, 
 whom we had brought from the east to build a house for us. We bought 
 besides from Push all his crop of wheat in the stack at two dollars per 
 estimated bushel, oats ditto at fifty cents in the field, corn in the fleM 
 fifty cents, three acres of potatoes in the ground, two cows and about 
 sixty head of swine, large and small: from another party horses, wagon 
 and harness, three hundred dollars. Pehold us equipped as western 
 farmers. 
 
 The commercial crisis of the east had not as yet affected Illinois, 
 and the state was undertaking vast and extravagant internal improve- 
 ments. Besides the issue of floods of state bank notes, based on these 
 undertakings, numbers of so-called wild cat banks, with scarce a local 
 habitation or a name, were putting in circulation reams of their worth- 
 less paper. Immigrants were flocking in, native immigrants, and the de- 
 mand for provisions for them and their teams made produce of all kind 
 very high. It was also a year of scarcity in the eastern states, lldur vvas 
 twelve dollars a barrel in New York and beefsteak twenty-five cents 
 per pound. We were impf)rting ship loads of wheat and other agricul- 
 tural products— flax seed, hemp, hides, etc., from the Mediterranean and 
 Russian provinces. The first-comers had claimed large tracts of land — 
 embracing most of the wooded portions and in the absence of lumber and 
 coal the prairies were uninhabitable. They held these claims higher than 
 deeded land was worth at any subsecjuent time till 1852, when the rail- 
 ways were approaching us. The next year, 1840, the whole thing col- 
 lapsed like a card house. The state bank failed, of course all the wild 
 cat, banks, all internal improvements stopped and immigration with 
 them. Wheat fell from two dollars and fifty cents to twenty-flvc cetjts, 
 beef from fifteen cents to one and a half cents per pound; corn, oats and 
 potatoes were unsalable. No kind of produce would bring money; all 
 was barter except the small pittance occasionally procured by hauling a 
 Iliad of wheat to Chicago, or provisions to the mines at Galena; but as 
 the farmers were already beginning to hoard every cent for the land sale, 
 
 — 474 — 
 
even tliis was withdrawn from (Mrculatioii. Taxes then were nominal, 
 there l)eint' no tax on hind for five years after entry. But for a person 
 with much correspondence letters were a heavy drain on the purse; as 
 postage was twenty-five cents a sheet the biggest sheets were used, let- 
 ters were crossed and recrossed and every chance of sending by private 
 hand eagerly taken. 1 believe a namesake of mine never (luite forgave 
 me for opening a letter of his l)y mistake in which were two bank notes 
 when he was charged twenty-live cents extra on each note. 
 
 In recurring to those days with a merchant here, now comparatively 
 rich, he said "1 rememl)er on one occasion my mother had written a 
 letter to me. I was a boy a thousand miles away from home— had had 
 no letter for a long time. 1 had no money, how to raise the necessary 
 twenty-live cents'? 1 went to the.pf)stotlice and turned tlie letter over 
 and over again, then returned to the st^ire where 1 was employed, and 
 was sitting there in a kind of a despairing way when a customer came 
 and asked for woolen socks. There were none in the store and the man 
 was going out, when I suddenly thought of a new pair of mother's knit- 
 ting 1 had just put on. Pulling otT my boot I held up my foot and asked 
 tiim what he would give. Three shillings— thirty-seven and one-half 
 cents— I got for those socks, enough to pay for my letter and buy a little 
 tobacco, for which 1 was starving." ITe concluded by saying "that was 
 the most satisfactory sale I ever made." 
 
 Rut it was astonishing how well we got along without money. We 
 had but to "tickle the soil with a straw and it laughed us a harvest," 
 there were very few weeds, no rats till a few years later when a little 
 steamer came up the river after a freshet and left a few in Dixon; no 
 diseases among stock or poultry, we lived on the fat of the land, and 
 for clothing each put on what seemed best in his own eyes. How 
 often have I laughed at the appearance presented by a Kentucky neigh- 
 bor to whom I had given a very tlowery dressing gown, frayed wiih much 
 usage, to see him starting out on a hunt in this garb, supplemented by a 
 coon skin cap with the long, barred tail hanging between his shoulders, 
 a spotted fawn skin pouch, a long rille and his l)are feet, he could have 
 given odds to Robinson Crusoe. 
 
 Ariother whose costume was very peculiar was a man named Dock- 
 hart, "who had got into a lussdown thar in Kaintucky" and shot a man 
 and had then taken refuge in this cave of Adullam, where he was safe 
 froni pursuit. He was a simple, good-natured fellow, who recognized but 
 one law, lextalionis of the Jews, "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." 
 He shunned the face of womankind, lived in a little caliin by himself, 
 
 — aT.'i — 
 
carried on all his farming work unaided and v^as clothed in the skins of 
 the animals he sliot. 
 
 It was fortunate that after the prairie soil was once broken the hind 
 was so free from weeds and easy of cultivation, for the implements were 
 of the simplest and rudest description, the plow a small light bar witli 
 wooden teeth, the f>.rks, rakes and scythes were rather better, hut the 
 crowning initiuity was the grain cradle, a heavy clumsy affair with a 
 blade about live feet long and hickory lingers made by native workmen — 
 reapers, mowers, threshing machines were still in the future, the grass 
 was cut with a scythe, raked by hand and stacked in the open air, ])arns 
 being unknown. To thresh the grain the bundles were laid (m the ground 
 and trodden out by horses — then winnowed with a sieve, tho' some had a 
 fanning mill which went the rounds, V)orrowed from farm to farm. The 
 strong llbrous roots of the original prairie grass were very hard to plow 
 through and the breaking was generally done by professional prairie break- 
 ers who turned the soil over with from four to six yoke of oxen, charging 
 $3.00 per acre. 
 
 When broken from June to September the soil rotted very fast and 
 made the richest seed bed for all kinds of plants. Thirty acres was con- 
 sidered a fair allowance for each able bodied man to work, twenty in corn 
 and ten in small grain, the corn plowed three times in the row with a 
 Common bar plow; those from the south used the Kentucky "bull 
 t'ingue," a clumsy single shovel. 
 
 One blacksmith did all the work of the settlement, mending plows, 
 setting tires, sighting rilles and '^hoeing horses; but on the approach of 
 winter, when alone the horses were shod, he was a busy man and it was 
 well to be in his good graces, for we had to taketurns in coming to his 
 shop, each furnished with iron for his own shoeing: for as he was only 
 paid in trade he had no money to l)uy iron and he made his own charcoal. 
 Jem Carley was the smith of that time, a most excellent and ingenious 
 workman, turning all sorts of iron scraps into any desired shape; but a 
 hard drinking, haul swearing, reckless fellow. lie was assisted in his 
 work by a poor, V)roken down creature liy the name of Beach, who was 
 the son of respectable parents in New York. lie had received a fair 
 education and the accounts which he kept for Carley were very neat and 
 correct. Ills bloated face and shock of uncoml)ed hair, covered by an 
 old stove pipe hat through the crown of which some old newspapers gen- 
 erally protruded, was a familiar sight to all the old settlers. When Car- 
 ley got drunk alone, which was rarely the case, he generally beat his 
 wife and children, when he and Beach got drunk together they mauled 
 
 — 47(1 — 
 
each other. On one occasion a ycmiiy man named West wiis riding' pasl 
 Carley's house after dark and heard someone cryintr bittcM-ly. Checkin^f 
 his horse he called out, ''Who is that":"' "It's me." "What's the matter';"' 
 Ta"s been beating me.'' "Come out here till I speak to you.'l It was 
 Carley's daughter, a rustic l)elle among the young fellows who in a coun- 
 try like this wee ready to see Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt. The 
 result of the conversation was that she jumped up on horseback behind 
 him and he took her to Levi Gaston's place where he left her for the 
 night, passing her off in the darkness for a fugitive slave whom he wished 
 to send on to Canada by the luidcrgyound railioad. This was the more 
 readilydone. as light was scarce in those days, when a saucer of lard with 
 a bit of cotton tlannel for a wick was the general illuminator. The next 
 morning West took her to Dixon, got the squire to make them one, and 
 set up housekeeping* in a canvas tent on the prairie, where he made a liv- 
 ing by putting up hay. 
 
 Gaston was one of the original abolitionists at a time when to be one 
 was anvthing but a title to public favor: ate no cane sugar made by the 
 blood and sweat of negro slaves. A most kind hearted, upright man, to 
 whom his neighbors of all parties and shades of belief gave a farewell 
 banquet a few years ago when he was leaving us to make his home on the 
 Pacific coast — a testimony of good will wliich I never rememberany other 
 Pal my ran to have received. 
 
 We had a German shoemaker in the town, an excellent, industrious 
 man who afterwards became a prosperous farmer. He was as hard put 
 to it in his business as the smith. He has told me of working up old 
 saddle skirts into half soles for shoes, of walking to Sterling to exchange 
 a basket of eggs for a ball of shoe-thread. Some idea of what men 
 went through with in those days may be gathered from the fact that he 
 —William Mueller, told me he had fenced his claim of forty acres with 
 rails all wheeled out on a wheelbarrow. 
 
 There was a meeting house at Gap Grove, but no regular religious 
 services were held. The Rev. M. Thummel came occasionally from the 
 southern part of the state and preached, principally to the Germans, and 
 there were circu't riders who sometimes got up a revival. A number of 
 us from the river attended one of these meetings from curiosity. The 
 conductor of the ceremony was hidden in a deep pulpit, while those who 
 had experienced religion were seated on a long bench in front. As each 
 in turn would relate their experience he would pop up from the pulpit 
 like a Jack-in-a-box and call "Now another!" It came to the turn of an 
 elderly man who hesitated for some time and the i)reacher had to call 
 
 - 477 — 
 
on him by naiDe more than once, "Brother Bidwell will give his exper- 
 icDce." At hist slowly rising and scratching his head Ijrother Hidwell 
 said, "I'm kind of in a notch,'' and sat (h)wn. It was pathetic, however, 
 to listen to the earnest simplicity with which some told of their strug- 
 gles. But to our great surprise we saw on the anxious l)cnch one of our 
 own boon companions, Captain Whiting. lie had been on a prolonged 
 spree, in the course of which he had upset his wife and child from the 
 sleigh he was driving— the child was killed and the mother injured. 
 This liad sobered him and in his remorse he had joined the church. 
 On seeing us there he l)awled out as if he was hailing the mast head, 
 and shaking his fist at us, "come forrard here you chaps, don't be grin- 
 ning there, and join us," which we declined. Poor fellowl he was a tlrst- 
 ratc sailor and a man t)f considerable literary ability, wrote pretty good 
 poetry and for some time edited a newspaper, but ^he demon of drink 
 took possession of him as it did of very many othei's in that early day, 
 when they were loosed from the restraints of society, lie afterwards 
 commanded "The Star of the West," when she was sent to the relief 
 of Fort Sumter, and gained so much credit on that occasion that he 
 was appointed consul to one of the South American repul)lics, but at 
 last he drifted into the Sail(jrs" Snug Harbor, a refuge for destitue sea- 
 men on Staten Island, and there cut his throat in despair at his wasted 
 abilities. 
 
 The Episcopal Bishop Chase, who founded Kenyon College in Ohio and 
 a Jubilee College in this state, sometimes came up f nun his home at "Rob- 
 in's Nest," and paid us a visit. Once in crossing the ferry at Dixon he 
 expostulated with John Neimeycr, the well known ferryman, for charg- 
 ing a bishop for crossing the river. John's reply was "Is dot so, den show 
 mcyourbapcrs." 
 
 Bishop Chase's foible was a horror of Rome. Visiting at the house of 
 a friend of minehe said, "Mr. B., I would like to talk to your servants" 
 and he went into the kitchen where were an old colored man named 
 Brown and his daughter. Brown, said the bishop, I would like to hear 
 you repeat a prayer. The old darkey, who had been born in slavery days 
 in New Jersey, and been buffeted about afloat and ashore in numy parts 
 of the world, began to rattle otf with tolerable fluency a singular travesty 
 of the Pater Noster which some priest had tried to teach him. "Ah, 
 Brown! Brown!" said the Bishop, "I fear you are in worse than Egyptian 
 V)ondage." "Don't know nuffin bout Gipsun bondage, sah, but if him 
 worse nor Jersey bondage, must be bad, sure nuff." 
 
 Most of the early settlers, particularly those from eastern states, took 
 
 - 478 — 
 
up claims alun^' the road leading from Dixon to Sterling, and aliout the 
 Gap, bnt the two men wlio tool< the largest part in public affairs of the 
 town were both Southerners, Squire Morgan, of Kentucky, and S(iuire 
 Bethea of Tennessee. They both held all the different town offices from 
 time to time Harvey Morgan was irtill Sqi.ire after he moved to Dixon, 
 where he died not many years ago. Squire Bethea was a man of little 
 education and less pretention, but the people had perfect confidence in 
 him; he had most of the iiualities that make for the Kingdom of Heaven, 
 and compromised more disputes than he ever tried cases. When the first 
 school house was built about halfway through Sugar Grove he was the 
 first teacher in it. 
 
 S(iuire Tilton was also in the commission of peace for many vcars and 
 showed considerable enterprise and public spirit. His wife was one of 
 the earliest teachers in the Grove, but 1 believe Mrs. Michael Fellows 
 was the first of all. It is said that on one occasion she was giving a les- 
 son in geography and telling her class about the wonderful bell of Mos- 
 cow, the number of tons it weighed. "By Jacks," said Martin Fender, 
 one of her scholars, it must have took a powerful critter to tote sucli a 
 bell as that:" 
 
 It is astonishing, I may say gratifying, to see how women's abilities 
 and their rights to use them are being recognized in the present day; the 
 highest seats of learning and the profession are being thrown open to 
 them. Miss Philippa Fawcett, a daughter of the late Postmaster Gen- 
 eral (»f England, lately took a double first at the Oxford examination, 
 surpassing all her male competitors; and as ageneral thing, in the college 
 examinations of both countries, the honors seem pretty evenly divided. 
 If they do not enjoy equal political rights with men they may console 
 themselves with the knowledge that their influence at home has more 
 weight in deciding an election than if they voted. 
 
 John Morse, was another old land mark of the town, honest and true. 
 He WIS the flrst county treasurer, and afterward sheriff. One Christ- 
 nias eve he joined a party of us who were celebrating the occasion, and 
 fearing he would be rather a wet blanket, we tried various devices to get 
 rid of him; untied his horse and then ran in to tell him it was loose, but 
 he said it knew the way to the corn crib; asked if his wife wouldn't be 
 uneasy, he was an old bachelor living alone in a little cabin: at last 
 told him he would have to sing a song, tell a story or drink a glass of 
 salt and water. He decided on telling a story, though he stuttered so as 
 to be almost unintelligible "Down in York State," he said, "when father 
 was a deacon in the church, I took a fancy one time to sing in the choir 
 
 — 479 — 
 
where all the jjjirls sang; I tried it two or three meetings and thought I 
 was doing Hrst rate, when one Sunday before meeting, the minister came 
 to our house and said, "deacon Morse you will have to keep John out of 
 the choir for the girls say he brays so load that it puts them all out and 
 they'll leave if he don't." ITo was a man who regarded no man's attire, 
 still less his own, and came to see me once in the New York custom house 
 where I was temporarily employed, wearing the same old leather breeches 
 by which he was known on the river. To.be quite fair, I took him thrt)ugh 
 crowded Wall street to see my brother in the bank of New York. lie 
 was on his way to California, where I believe he made a fortune in fruit 
 trees. 
 
 Joseph Wilson, an old l^randywine miller, was the first to make Hour 
 for the settlement. The whole town turned out to assist him in putting 
 up a log mill on Elkhorn creek, where he made excellent flour when there 
 was water enough to turn the wheel, but many times the creek ran near- 
 ly dry, and then we had to take our grist often as far as Aurora on the 
 Fox river, some forty miles. 
 
 A Swiss, named Obrist, had a small saw mill on Sugar creek, where 
 after a heavy rain some sawing could be done, but generally all parts of a 
 log house, and there were few others, were got out by hand. When a new 
 settler came he would cut and haul together a sufficient number of logs 
 for the size of the house he intended to build. He would then call his 
 neighbors together, and every one with'n ten miles was a neighbor, to 
 assist in putting up his house; four of the best axemen were stationed one 
 at each corner to receive the logs as they were rolled up on skids, notch 
 and saddle them so that they woald rest firmly without rocking. When 
 the logs were all up some one was chosen to break a bottle of whiskey 
 over one corner and give the house a name. Generally Deacon Moore or 
 Reuben Eastwood were asked to officiate, as they had the loudest voices 
 and could be heard farther th?n any of the others. Free splitting timber 
 was then rived into shakes for the roof and puncheons for the floor and 
 door; the puncheons were sometimes dresred down with an adze, weight 
 poles laid on the roof to keep the shakes in place. A chimney built, the 
 tire place of logs notched together, and stone, the upper part of finely 
 split sticks well daubed with clay — the crevices between the logs of the 
 house chinked with pieces of wood and then daubed with clay and the 
 house was complete, warm in winter, cool in summer, comfortable to 
 live in. 
 
 Martin Richardson was generally the favorite axeman on those occas- 
 ions, his corner was always the first up and his logs fitted snugger than 
 
 — 480 — 
 
any others. He was a man about Ave feet Ave inches in height with a 
 chest deep and broad as a giant's, his hair, the color of tow, stood out 
 from his head like an immense mop. No brick redder than his face, no 
 ivory whiter than his teeth. Born in Massachusetts, he had been taken 
 as a child to Kentucky, and with the energy of the Yankee, he had the 
 improvident liberality of the Southerners. He could do more work and 
 raise better crops than any man in the country, his signature was a sim- 
 ple one. a cross. His early life had been passed as a flat-boat man down 
 the Mississippi river to New Orleans. At a husking frolic his pile of 
 corn v^as the biggest and his chorus in the negro song the loudest. 
 
 There was a mighty old gooae sailing on the ocean 
 
 oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! 
 I sent for my neighbors and ask 'em how to cook him, 
 
 oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! 
 Tell liim to bi'e him aad toss him in de oben 
 
 oh its 
 Nine weeks a biling and six weeks a roastin 
 
 oh its 
 
 Knife wouldn't cut him, fork wouldn't enter and so on. But he dear- 
 ly loved a free light where any one could take a hand in without ani- 
 mosity, but considered pistols and knives cowardly weapons. Did you 
 never carry a pistol':* I asked. "Never but once when Bush was postmas- 
 ter and old man Kellogg, up to Buffalo, was his deputy: he was going to 
 settle with him and was afraid he'd cut up rough, so nothing would do 
 but I must go along with him and take a pistol. I never was so ashamed 
 in my born days, the plaguy thing would keep a poking out of my 
 pocket; I thought all the folks would see it but I had no occasion for it. 
 Kellogg, he settled up peaceably." He had a little difficulty with a neigh- 
 bur down in Ketitucky which he thus described: "He and old man Bouch- 
 er, father to Jack, had a falling out 'ijout an ash kittle, and one day at a 
 log roiling he jumped on to me with a knife. I just took him by the 
 wrists and shook him till he dropped it and then 1 rolled him over. The 
 boys all hollered to me to stomp him, but he was getting old so I jest got 
 on Chat and rode down to Yallerbanks and sued him afore tlie squire." 
 "And how did you come out';"' I asked. "Oh! the lawyer he got the kit- 
 tle." So, "The lawyer gets the kettle," passed into a proverb with us. 
 
 One of our mcmey losing undertakings was the starting of a ferry^at 
 my place by subscription. Richardson was made ferryman. On one oc- 
 casion when he was poling the boat and was at some little distance from 
 shore, a young man named Heickus, thinking himself safe, began to 
 abuse him. He jumped overboard and wading ashore ran Heickus down 
 
 — 48' — 
 
and gave him several hearty cuffs. Cited Ijefore the Mniirc he was fined 
 $3, which he paid in court, "This," sain the youn^f fellow with a grin, 
 as he put the money in his pocket, "will buy my wife a new dress." 
 "Yes," said Martin, "and by yinger, the next time I catch you I'll clothe 
 your whole family." 
 
 As I have already said, we bought a farm from C. B. Bush and in 
 September, 1839, my brother, cousin and 1 took possession of the log 
 house and began housekeeping. Having bought all of Bush's crops, 
 stock, etc., we had the necessaries of life in superabundance: but it was 
 all raw material, and how to convert it into food was the prol)lem. Com- 
 ing fresh from an artificial city life, we had none of the fertility of re- 
 source which is characteristic of most settlers in a new country. Like 
 old man Sales, of Oates Spring, who ground his corn by attaching a heavy 
 stone to a sort of well pole and pounding it against another partially 
 hollowed stone; or the man Gov. Ford tells of in his history of Illi- 
 nois, who one day when plowing corn had the misfortune to lose his 
 horse's collar by the animal running away. After catching his horse 
 again he pulled off his breeches and stufHng the legs with grass, hung it 
 over the horse's neck for a collar and coolly went on with his plowing. 
 Threshing wheat we gave up at once as out of the range of possibility 
 with corn and potatoes it was simple enough, but the pork! IIow to 
 butcher a hog? However, we shot a h<tg in the corn Held, only wound- 
 ing it; it ran to the house, we in pursuit, and (Inally succeeded in dis- 
 patching it with sticks and knives. We then tried to shave off the hair 
 with a r.izor, which only ruined the razor, then we tried to burn it off 
 and at last skinned it, when it presented the appearai;ce of fine fat mut- 
 ton. 1 became in time a sutticiftitly good butcher, but father and 
 brother up to the time of their leaving the country never made a success 
 and in their last attempt father was to hold the pig, and my brother to 
 stick it; the former knelt on the pig and held it with one hand, shading 
 his eves from the bloody deed bv holding up his hat in the other band; 
 my brother then— approaching cautiously and turning his head aside — 
 made a desperate thrust with the knife, calling out, "let gol" With 
 a fearful squeal the pig ran oil and neither pig nor knife were ever seen 
 again. 
 
 For bread we mixed together meal, salt and water, and toasted it be- 
 fore the tire on a shingle or shovel. There was no lack of potatoes, for 
 having allowed those wc bought from Bush to freeze in the ground, a 
 sharp fellow came along one day and proposed I should buy his. "How 
 many have you'-* I asked. "Oh, about three hundred bushels." "Will 
 
 — 482 — 
 
those be enough for the huge faiuily I am expecting to C(»me out?'' "Yes, 
 I guess so." 1 shall never forget the time it took to dig a hole big 
 enough to contain those potatoes, nor the laughter of my better posted 
 friends when I told them of the transaction. And this was only one in- 
 stance among very many where our total ignorance of our new life was 
 taken advantage of, and not only we, but all those who came here ignor- 
 ant of farm life, spent all they liad in gaining experience. But in spite 
 of some privations of this kind, which young people make little account 
 of, we were delighted with the life. In the summer the broad prairies 
 were gay with beautiful Mowers, wild fruit was abundant, plums, black- 
 berries, and strawberries, wild crab apples and grapes made very good 
 preserves, and there was no end to the game birds, prairie hens (pinnat- 
 ed grouse), pheasants (ruffled grouse), ducks of every kind, geese, brant, 
 swans, pigeons, plover, curlews, woodcocks and snipe. Tiien there were 
 numbers of deer, raccoons, rabbits, badgers, skunks and prairie wolves. 
 The river abounded with tish and it was a favorite sport with us to spear 
 them by torchlight, or sometimes through the ice. A hole was cut in 
 the ice and darkened by hanging a blanket over it; under that the spear 
 man would watch while others would beat on the ice above to set the 
 fish in motion, which were struck as they came swimming sluggishly by. 
 We shared in these sports with the Indians who came here to hunt in 
 winter for two or three seasons after our arrival. They came in large 
 bands with their squaws, pappooses and ponies. There was one Indian, 
 Winnebago Jim we called him, who for many years came every summer 
 to my place to hunt and beg. lie brought his squaw and wretched little 
 pappoose which his wife carried about wrapped in a blanket on her back, 
 and wliile she made mats and baskets of rushes, Jim would paddle over 
 to the island, hang his breeches in a tree and have a fine untrannneled 
 time while hunting. 
 
 We often took fish in quantities with a seine— black bass, white perch, 
 red horse, buffalo, pike, and sometimes that survivor of the Silurian sea, 
 the worthless gar-flsh. Sturgeons there were too, sometimes five feet in 
 length and catfish of fifty pounds weight: these lattercorned and smoked 
 were very good, but tlie best were inferior to sea fish. Quantities of mus- 
 sels alTorded food to flsli and rauskrats. The red-horse, a species of 
 sucker, feeds largely on them and at midsummer, when the river is low, 
 a stranger would be puzzled to account for the constant thumping sound 
 proceeding from it. This is caused by the red-horse beating on the 
 shells to open them. Pearls are often found in these mussels, but of ir- 
 regular shape and of little value. 
 
 — 483 — 
 
But to take fish without hook or 8pear, net or poison, how? When 
 the river rises with the June rainc the flsh, mostly pike or bass, run in 
 close to the shore to feed at night; then a boat is paddled along as noise- 
 lessly as possible close to the banks: as it approaches, the flsh— alarmed- 
 rush for the deep water, but meeting the impediment of the boat try to 
 jump over it, in which they seldom succeed, but falling in are captured. 
 We had turtles too in the river — the soft shell, about the size of a din- 
 ner plate and very good eating, though troublesome to prepare, and the 
 snapper. Both of them are very destructive to young ducks, swimming 
 under them and pulling them noiselessly down. It is curious to see the 
 mother duck when she begins to miss the young. Knowing but too well 
 the cause, she rushes furiously back and forth beating the water with 
 her wings and quacking loudly in dire distress, then hurriedly brings her 
 brood ashore. 
 
 A new bird to us was the sand-hill-crane, sometimes called the 
 the prairie turkey, but a very dry and tasteless one. It stands about 
 three feet high, is of a pale straw color with a red stripe on the head. 
 The bird has a curious habit of assembling in large flocks on moonlight 
 nights on some knoll on the prairie, where they Will dance around in a 
 circle, like Macbeth's witches over their cauldron, uttering a curious 
 grating crv. They are easily tamed. Scallan, the carpenter, had a tame 
 one which he taught to dance with him. He would say "Come Sandy," 
 and waving a cornstalk in time they would prance around together. Ills 
 tenant, McGraw, fearing Sandy's assault on his little boy's eye's, cut his 
 head off. The prairie wolves were very numeious, cunning and extremely 
 bold. They would sometimes come right up to the house in broad 
 daylight and kill poultry, young pigs, lambs, etc., not only to eat but 
 from a l(»ve of slaughter. I once counted thirteen ducks killed at regu- 
 lar distances between the house and cornfield just as the wolf had over- 
 taken them. On another occasion tiiirty-two well grown turkeys were 
 killed in a night — one bite across tlie neck finished them. Woe betide 
 the cow which calved out, she was sure to lose her young. T><e wolves 
 generally hunted in pairs; one would come close to the house at night, 
 give a few yelps, when the mongrel, pi'ppv, cur or hound would be out 
 and after him in full cry: then his mate would steal up and carry off a 
 pig or lamb. One morning early, looking over the river, I saw a wolf, 
 evidently on picket duty, trotting along the high bank, while lower 
 down was another driving a good sized shoat before him. When the pig 
 stopped or tried to turn the wolf would run in and give him a nip, when 
 piggy would squeal and go on lamenting. So they drove him over the 
 
 — 484 — 
 
j e to an island, when we ran over, and Riving an unsuccessful shot at 
 the thieves, saved the pi^. 
 
 The llrst winter when we moved Into our log house our nearest neigh- 
 bors were a family of Kent.uckians in which were five brothers. They 
 soon came to pay us a visit, walking along in Indian file, the eldest with 
 along rifle over his shoulder. They stalked in, formed a semi-circle 
 around the fire and stared at me, and everything in the room. I in turn 
 stared at them. Had they been beings from another planet I could not 
 have been more at loss what to say to them. They marched out as 
 silently as they came in. As time went on I was constantly thrown in 
 with the young men and always found them most obliging, regardless of 
 gain. They could neither read nor write, "swore like our army in 
 Flanders," yet were always particular in avoiding foul, indecent lan- 
 guage. There was an innate delicacy in many respects about them which 
 was truly remarkable and at the table they watched with close attention 
 lest they should make any mistake. The eldest on one occasion seeing a 
 man dip his bread in the dish said, "Uncle Ed, if you want some ot that 
 gravy I'll help you with a spoon.'' "Why, Kernel,'" he replied, "I didn't 
 know you minded, down in York state I paid two bits extra for the privi- 
 lege." The York Staters from the Erie canal were dreadful. 
 
 The "Kernel," as he was called, had an intense craving for education 
 and at last succeeded in learning to read and write and he was ap- 
 pointed a school director. Ilis notice to the people of the district I kept 
 for many years as a model of composition and orthography. He was 
 "full of wise saws and modern instances" as Sancho Panza, and when 
 told that "a rolling stone gathered no moss" retorted with "a setting 
 goose don't git no new feathers." On hearing of Columbus making the 
 egg stand on its end, took all pftint out of the anecdote by saying, "Why 
 that's no trick at all," and to the surprise of those present proceeded to 
 stand an egg on its end without, like Columbus, having recourse to crack- 
 ing it. 
 
 These traits of character I have been attempting to describe. I met 
 with very frequently among "the poor white trash" of the South, arising 
 I think from the consciousness of belonging to a superior race to the ne- 
 groes by whom they were surrounded. They have now all disappeared, 
 there was no room for them here when the great rush for immigratii)n 
 set in with the railroads, bringing a horde of toiling, saving, grasping 
 foreigners, better calculated perhaps to develope the resources of the 
 country but very far from as pleasant to live among. With them have 
 
 — 485 — 
 
cdtue tlie rats, the weeds, the overproduction, the low prices and the sur* 
 vival of the Attest. 
 
 Elkanah B. Bush, from whom we boutjht our claim, was also a Ken- 
 tuckiari, higher in the social scale than those I have been describing, 
 l)Ut equally improvident; in fact, prudence and economy seem to be a 
 matter of climate and soil, those from a mild climate and fruitful soil 
 being generally careless and improvident, while those from a cold climate 
 and thin soil are prudent and saving. The sum Bush received from his 
 claim, crops, etc., seemed an immense one to him and he was perplexed 
 how to dispose of it, so he bought some medical works and began to 
 study for a doctor. When he thought he was pretty well posted he went 
 down to Peoria, and laying in a l)ig supply of drugs, began to practice 
 liis new profession in Elkhorn Grove, but after one patient had died and 
 he had nearly poisoned two or three others he got scared, and giving up 
 medicine, put what was left of his money in an oil and saw mill. He 
 offered us one dollar a bushel for castor beans and the same for flax 
 seed. This seemed immense and many of us went into it. He, too, 
 rented ground and planted largely. The flax grew finely, when ripe we 
 cradled and bound it and then proceeded to thresn it as we did wheat 
 or oats by laying it on the ground and then tramping it with horses; but 
 so it was that when the horses had made a few rounds they tramped the 
 bundles inio ropes which became entangled with their legs and moved 
 the whole mass. We couldn't fork nor handle it in any way, and so gave 
 it up. The, castor beans grew equally well but they were in all stages 
 from the blossom to the ripe bean, which kept popping and flying about 
 in all directions. The beans being tempting in taste and appearance 
 were eaten by children, who required no further dosing that summer: 
 but this was the only use made of them, for we could not dispose of the 
 few that were saved as Bush's money gave out and noone else wanted them. 
 For his saw mill speculation he had taken "the Kernal" as a partner, 
 wViose contribution to the partnership consisted of his skill as an axe- 
 man, for those were days when "a man was famous according as he lifted 
 up the axe on the thick trees," and a colt valued at thirty dollars. To 
 celel)rate this great era in their lives and the promotion of their brother 
 all the Kentucks combined to buy a jug of molasses, drank molasses 
 and water and flred their rifles all day. When the inevitable collapse 
 came the Kernel, never having studied commercial law, only saw that 
 he had lost his horse and his time, so he sued Bush for wages. In those 
 days lawyers were at a discount as too expensive luxuries for common 
 folk, and suits were generally left to three umpires, who almost Invari- 
 
 — 486 — 
 
ably divided the tliin^^ hetvveen the t)arties, which is perhaps the fairest 
 way after all. In this case "the three men," as they were called, gave 
 the plaintiff half wages. Poor "Kernel," he went to Fulton, where he 
 was made a constable, wore store clothes and a |,'old watch, had a little 
 brief prosperity, but died in the poorhouse. 
 
 We had may transient visitors who would stay for a time and go on. 
 Among tliese was a young man luimed Budd, the s(mof Lieut. Budd, who 
 was killed with Captain Lawrence in the Chesupeal<e at the time of the 
 celebrated engagement of the Chesapeake and Shannon. Budd stayed 
 with me for some time. I learned that after'being married little more 
 than a year he had lost his wife and child. In his melancholy musings 
 he would wander about the country at night, and Anally went down 
 the river in a small boat. Not long after I got a letter from him, dated 
 at Rock Island, saying he had been arrested there for the murder of 
 Major Davenport, and wishing me to do something for him. It appeared 
 that this Davenport, an old Indian trader, lived on an island, called by 
 his name at the mouth of Rock River. lie was reputed to be wealthy. 
 On the morning of the 4th of July, 1845, his family had left him alone in 
 the house while they went over to the main land to take part in the cele- 
 bration of the day, and on their return at night had found the dead body 
 of tlie Major, and the house robbed. 
 
 Budd had often been seen wandering about the island at night and 
 liad been in the habit of buying provisions in the town and taking them 
 t) his camp up the river, where he was supposed to have accomplices. 
 When the people lieard of the murder the whole town was in commotion. 
 Budd was at once suspected, and learning that he had been seen leaving 
 the town that morning, armed bodies went in pursuit of him and he 
 would certainly have been lynched had he n((t returned unperccived, 
 given himself up to the sheriff and was put in jail. All my efforts in his 
 behalf were of no use to him; public opinion was so strong against him. 
 He lay for ^-.ome months in jail and might have been executed had not a 
 detective caught a man on a lake steamer with the Major's watch in his 
 possession, which led to the capture of the gang and Budd's acquittal. It 
 was not safe in those days to be melancholy or mysterious. 
 
 In that early day we liad only a weekly mail from the east, which 
 came in on Saturday by Winter's, and afterward by Foinck & Walker's 
 stages. All who expected letters went to Dixon ttiat day for the mail: 
 first to the postotlice and then to the hole-in-the-wall, a log saloon, after- 
 ward used by Lorenzo V/ood to store his woolen goods and later pulled 
 down by Bovey for liis lumber yard. Here we met all of our acquaintan- 
 
 - 487 — 
 
tances. Every one was called on to drink; a bargain was always sealed by 
 a drink, an introduction to a stranger followed by a drink; on a journey 
 or in the harvest field, it wae the same thing. Any excuse was sufflcient 
 to^call for a drink and to refuse was to give mortal offense, there were 
 very few scruples to a dram in that day A very singular custom it 
 seemed to us who had never been accustomed to wines or liquors except 
 at the dinner table, never before eating, while here it was considered a 
 sufficient excuse sometimes to say "thank you, V)ut I've just eat." The 
 drink was pure corn juice distilled by Fred Dutcher, too cheap to be adul- 
 terated, for a bushel of corn. -value ten cents, would buy a gallon of whis- 
 key and little else. 
 
 Here, then, we met everyone from all parts of the country, except our 
 farming friends from the Sugar Grove road, and a curious assortment it 
 was. There was one, Lem Paul, kiiown to be a regular highwayman, and 
 that he laid in wait to rob John Dixon on his way up from Peoria with 
 funds to pay the workmen employed on the canal at the Sterling rapids. 
 Mr. Dixon got a hint of it and came another way. Paul lived on un- 
 molesed in Dixon till he severely wounded Crowell with an axe, when he 
 was driven out of the town and took up his al)ode in Copper Harbor. 
 There he was shot in the arm in a fight and his arm broken, he advised 
 the man who fired at him to shoot and kill him or he would certainly kill 
 him as soon as his arm was well. This the other declined to do, but Paul 
 was as good as his word, and lying in wait for him at the spring, shot him 
 as he came for a pail of water and then took refuge in the Indian nation, 
 that Alsatia of outlaws. 
 
 Another noted character throughout the country was Billy Rogers, a 
 tall, good looking man, always well dressed. It was said he had belonged 
 to a noted band of outlaws on the Mississippi and he was known to have 
 been the only gambler who escaped from the people of Natchez when 
 they made their great raid on the gambling houses '"under the hill." 
 Billy cut his way through the crowd with his bowie knife, and swimming 
 the Mississippi, escaped. lie was a gambler by profession, and "as wild 
 a mannered man as ever cut a throat," still his jovial temper and gener- 
 ous dispositien made him a general favorite. On one occasion, as he was 
 just starting on a contract to remove the Indians west of the Mississippi, 
 the stage was surrounded by the sheriff with a posse to take Billy on some 
 debt. Drawing a pistol he said to the sheriff. "Morse, I know there are 
 enough of you to take me, but you know I'm good for you first; now if you 
 will make no fuss but let me go and carry out my contract I'll pay when 
 I come back." The sheriff knowing Billy's word to be good both ways let 
 
 — 488 — 
 
him go. Some years after this t was on the grand jury when billy wis 
 indicted lor gambling, keeping a quino table. Hearing of what was 
 going on he came into the jury room and in answer to questions from 
 different members of the jury, gave a full account of his mode of life, how 
 much he made yearly by gambling, and wound up by inviting all the 
 members of the jury to his saloon where he would teach them how to 
 play quino, and treat them besides, free. When the California fever 
 l)roke out he went to that state, was elected sheriff of Eldorada county; 
 and in the Piute war was ex-ottlcer in command of the armed force of that 
 county; tho' he could neither read or write he made a very efficient 
 officer. 
 
 In this Indian war a Dixon man. Major Hutchinson McKinney, was 
 killed in a singular manner. IJe was on horseback running an Indian 
 down, and catching at his scalp lock when the Indian, who had lost his 
 bow, turned suddenly and stabbed him to the heart with an arrow, he 
 held in his hand. The major had life enough left to knock him down 
 with his pistol and other soldiers coming up, finished him. 
 
 William Graham, the pioneer of our colony in Palmyra, held a com- 
 mission as a major in this war. He died at the mines at Philipsburg, 
 Montana, in 1878. Billy Rogers, too, "Life's fitful fever past," died peace- 
 ably in his bed not many years ago. 
 
 Another constant visitor to the Hole-in-the-Wall was Henry Truett, 
 who had killed a Doctor Early, the editor of a paper down the river while 
 he sat writing at his desk with his back to him. Mr. Craig, an old Irish 
 gentlemen who had accompanied Capt. Graham to the west, was intro- 
 duced to Truett in the saloon, but didn't catch the name. "Who was 
 that you introduced me to, Billy?" he asked. "Oh! that is Truett, Truett 
 the murderer." "A murderer! God bless me! Bring me some water," 
 and he kept on vociferating for water and exclaiming "God bless me!" 
 till a basin was brought, when he carefully washed the murderous taint 
 from his hands in presence of an admiring crowd. Truett's brother, 
 Myers Truett, was in after years one ef the most prominent members of 
 the vigilance committee in San Francisco and is often mentioned by 
 General Sherman in his account of early days in California. 
 
 Our whole family reached Rock River in the spring of 1840, and were 
 at first delighted with the country when they only experienced the minor 
 discomforts common to all new countries, nor did they suffer from three 
 plagues which made life for a time a burthen to most of the newcomers— 
 fieas, prairie itch and boils. In June the country is always lovely, there 
 was no savagery in the fiower studded prairie or the rich green (>f the 
 
 — 489 — 
 
groves, but a deadly enemy lurked beneath all this beauty, "/rtYe^ anguis 
 iu herba." The snake in the grass was the intermittent fever which that 
 year generally assumed a congestive type. Many died of it and in most 
 cases while the fever was on the patient was delirious. Tliere were 
 scarcely enough of those who escaped the fever to give a glass of water to 
 the sick. One of the children died here, another soon after in New York, 
 whither my mother had tied as soon as she could get away, taking all the 
 younger children. The golden hopes which had lured us here had all died 
 out. The state had become bankrupt, produce was unsalable, and the 
 future looked very dark. We had put in large crops which had grown as 
 they only do in a new country, but wiLli the harvest came the fever. We 
 had a large tent raised in the field with a table spread with Cv>ld meat, 
 rum, whiskey, iced waters, etc., which was undoubtedly appreciated by 
 the few harvesters we succeeded in hiring, for they spent a good part of 
 the time in it; but they too got sick and the cradled grain lay unbound 
 in the harvest field until cool weather., when, owing to a very dry fall, we 
 succeeded in saving some of it, tramping it out with horses. 
 
 In the course of a few years I was the only member of the family who 
 remained here and there were very few representatives left of the many 
 others of the New York colony. By degrees 1 drifted into a farmer's life, 
 in which if there was little profit there was little care. Our principal 
 crop was wheat, on which we depended for some indispensable cash. Up 
 to 1846 or '47 it was almost entirely winter wheat of the finest quality, 
 after that time it became uncertain on the prairie soil and spring wheat 
 was substituted. We reared no cattle except for our own use. A little 
 dressed pork was sometimes sold through tlie winter in Chicago or to the 
 miners in Galena— an occasional load of oats to the stage company in 
 Dixon or the towns on the Illinois river. Corn reniained unsalable. 
 Through August and September there would be a long string of teams 
 going in to Chicago with wheat, through clouds of blinding, choking 
 dust; the wheat generally sold at 50 and (50 cents. On these long drives, 
 requiring a week or ten days to accomplish, the load was seldom more 
 than twenty-five bushels, as there were no bridges over sloughs or rivers. 
 With the wheat was taken food for man and beast, a scythe to cut grass 
 by the way, an axe and auger for repairs if needed. 
 
 On looking back to those days it is a matter of great surprise to me 
 that those whf) were "to the manor born" farmers from their youth up 
 did not make any use of the great advantages the country afforded for 
 the cheap production of wool, beef and pork. There was a boundless 
 range of the tlnest grass ii) the world, unlimited for grazing or making 
 
 — 490 — 
 
hay, corn at lo cents per bushel, brati Was throWn into the I'ace to pret It 
 out of the way. 
 
 From Chicago to New York by the lakes and Erie canal freight was 
 only one dollar per hundred pounds. Yet the only attempt made in this 
 direction was that of Mr. John Shillaber, an old China merchant who 
 came here in 1844, secured a large track of fine land at a nominal price, 
 stocked it with Paular Merinos, the best sheep of that day, got Scotch 
 shepherds, collie dogs and all things necessary, and in ahout Ave years 
 failed utterly and entirely and the lawyers were picking his bones. His 
 mistakes most likely were: An investment of the whole of his capital in 
 the venture, the immediate instead of a gradual stocking with high 
 priced sheep, some side issues uf several acres in grapes, apples, etc., too 
 much hired help. To the inexperienced putting money in a farm is like 
 putting manure on a gravelly soil— it leaches through and leaves no 
 trace. Had he been a horny-handed son of the soil, with experience as 
 well as money, he would most likely have made a splendid success, but 
 Mr. Shillaber had to buy experience at the cost of aM he possessed. 
 
 About one of the toughest labors of Hercules was his combat with the 
 giant, Anteus, a son of the soil, who so often as he was thrown gained 
 fresh vigor to continue the struggle by contact with his mother earth; 
 and it was only hy holding him aloft and strangling him that Hercules 
 overcame him. Sons of the soil have not changed since the days of Her- 
 cules; taken on their native heath they are hard to beat. All of which 
 goes to prove the truth of the old proverb, "iVe sutor untra creindam." — 
 "Shoemaker stick to your last." 
 
 In 1848 we got our first reaper; in that year, too, a small trade com- 
 menced in steers, which, with choice cows, sold from $12.00 to $45.00. 
 These steers were driven into Ohio, wintered and fattened there, and 
 then driven to the seaboard markets. 
 
 Settlers came in slowly, nor was there much improvement in the 
 price of land or produce until 1854, when the railway was completed from 
 Chicago to Dixon and crowds of immigrants rushed in. Land went up in 
 leaps and hounds, three, four, ilve hundred per cent. The treeless prair- 
 ies, which we thought uninhabitable, were quickly seized and settled; 
 plenty of coal and lumber coming in on the railroad. To feed this multi- 
 tude produce of all kinds went up to high prices, corn to 65 cents per 
 bushel, and at this price many of those who came first paid for their land 
 with a single crop. But this was only a tidal wave, and receded with 
 the railways as they went west, bringing in produce from newer and 
 cheaper land. All prices continued to decline except that of land. 
 
 — 491 — 
 
The name Palrpyra by which our town is called, though suggestive of 
 waving palms and "spicy gales from Araby the blest," was given to it I 
 think after the township organization was adopted by one of our early 
 settlers, Fred Coe I believe, after a town of the same name in the state 
 of New York. It contains the village of Prairieville, where is a tine 
 church, built I believe mainly l)y Lutherans. There is also a very good 
 graded school and on the grounds a monument to those Palmyra volun- 
 teers who died in the Union cause, 
 
 JonN TlIAHP Lawuence. 
 
ilR Earfy SeHoof. 
 
 IN response to an invitation Mrs. L. A. Ramsay, of Whiteside County, 
 III., who taught a select school for girls in Dixon in 1842 sends the 
 following: 
 
 "My first summer in the far West, fifty years ago, was spent in Dixon 
 —then called Dixon's Ferry. It was a little village on the south bank of 
 Rock River and straggling out a little way among the sand hills. An 
 unpainted schoolhouse, the Court House and Land Office were its public 
 buildings: three hotels, one called "Stage House," which accommodated 
 travelers "Westward Ho!" three stores of general merchandise, a few me- 
 chanics' shops, some comfortable houses and a fair showing of good and 
 agreeable people comprised the rudiments of what is now styled the city 
 of Dixon. A Methodist Church was already established — the congrega- 
 tion meeting in tiie Court House on the Sabbath day. The minister was 
 Rev. Philo Judson. The teacher of the public school was Miss Curtis. 
 A select school for girls (Miss Church, teacher) was conducted in a small 
 room of a dwelling-house a little west of the road leading to the ferry. 
 The pupils were Mabel Nash, Ophelia Loveland, Ann Whitney, Libbie 
 Ayers, Susanna Clute, Libbie Hawlev, Harriet Whitraore. Helen Judson, 
 Libbie Dixon, Jane Ann Herrick, Elizabeth Judson, Marianna Hog'an, 
 Harriet Edson, Abbie Murray, Susan Murray, Sybil Van Arnam, Frankie 
 Noble, Jane Richards, Libbie McKenney, Henrietta Dixon, Mary Pratt 
 and Adeline dray, and a few others whose names I cannot now recall. 
 All were interesting girls— wish I knew the subsciiuent history of each. 
 "While thinking and writing of the past many glimpses of the long 
 ago are presented — among them I recall one picture in Dixon cemetery 
 which I have never seen duplicated— 'Tis only a baby's grave, covered as 
 with a blanket of tri-colored violets, sometimes called forget-me-nots. 
 'Tis nearly scjuare and scarcely raised above the level of surrounding 
 sand— prepared by the father for his motherless boy. No piles of marble 
 or granite ever impressed rae half so much, though I never saw either of 
 them and knew nothing about them but the name." 
 
 — 493 — 
 
The old dwelling referred to stood where the express office is now lo- 
 cated. It was then occupied by Mr. Wynkoop's family. The teacher 
 reraenibers, as do some of her pupils, a certain sleighride in which her 
 fine new winter bonnet fared badly; they were overturned in a hu^e drift 
 and it was found at the bottom of the pile. But, though, like truth, it 
 was "crushed to earth," it "rose again," but never to its forruer glory. 
 Upon another occasion she remembered of going to a party at Gov. Char- 
 ter's with a merry crowd in an ox-wagon, with E. b. Stiles for driver. 
 
 L. A. Ramsay. 
 
MRS. SARAH JOHNSON. 
 
Pi0T2eier3 of PaiTi^^ra. 
 
 PALMYRA was oiiginally settled by an adventurous race of pioneers, 
 the great majority being of New York or NeAV England descent. 
 They made long and toilsome journeys from their "storm and rock 
 bound coasts," or the inhospitable soil of their pine-clad hills, to follow 
 the course of empire, that they and their posterity might enjoy a grand 
 heritage which had been denied them in the land of their nativity. We, 
 their descendants, who are enjoying the fruits of their sacrifices, gladly 
 avail ourselves of the privilege of paying a tribute to their virtues. Not 
 many of this heroic band remain, a few veterans still linger on the stage, 
 but alas! most of them lie beneath "the low, green tent, whose curtain 
 never outward swings." 
 
 The first settlement was begun in the spring of 1S34, by old j\Ir. Mor- 
 gan and his sons, Plarvey and John, and Benjamin Stewart, who settled 
 in the south side of the grove, known as the Gap. They were followed in 
 the autumn by John H. Page and wife, and Stephen Fellows, with a large 
 family. 
 
 The following spring, IS-T), new accessions were made. W. W. Bethea, 
 Absalom Fender, with a large family, Capt. Oliver Hubbard, a numerous 
 family of Gastons, Smith Gilbraith, William T. and and Ellcanab Bush, 
 Daniel Beardslev, old Mr. Thomas and sons, Enoch and Noah, Daniel 
 O'Brist, Nathan Morehouse, Jeff Harris, Anson Thummel, brother of 
 Rev. C. B. ThunuDel, James Power and sons, Thomas and Jeptha. From 
 1836 to 1845 large additions were made to the infant settlement, most of 
 the following being well l<nown families: John C.Oliver, Noah Beede, 
 Abijah Powers, Frederic and Henry Coe, Walter Rogers, Reuben East- 
 wood, William Myers, (afterward known as the "Prophet"), Hiram Parks, 
 W. W. Tilton, Timothy Butler, Hugh Graham, John T. Lawrence, John 
 Lawrence, Abner Moon, John Lord and son, John L., Jarves N., and 
 David Holly, Wm. Martin and nephews. James, Jacob and Tyler Martin, 
 Cypt. Jonas M. Johnson and sons, William Y, and Morris, with families, 
 and son-in-law, Eben H. Johnson and wife, Joshua Seavey and sons, Jesse 
 
 — 497 — 
 
arul Wiritlirop, .Tcsliua Marden and son, William, Albert and John .Ton- 
 ness, Harvey E. Johnson, Charles and Dana Colutubia, Levi Iirit;t,'s and 
 father, Thomas Monk, Wm. and John Benjamin, Triixton and Lemuel 
 Sweeney, John and Joseph Thompson, John Norris, "W ni. and Lockwood 
 Harris, Wm. Burger, Wm. Stackpole, Rev. Wm. Gates, James Gates, 
 Wm. Ayers, Thos. Ayers, L. Deyo, E. Deyo, Col. Leman Mason and sons, 
 Sterne, Volney and Rodney, Moses Warner and sons, Henry Mt»ses and 
 George, Major Sterling, Henry and Gustavus Sartorius, Neiiemiah, Wm., 
 Fletcher and Morris Hutton, Abram O'brist, Martin Blair, Wesley At- 
 kinson, Thomas and Moses Scallion, John Carley, Hardin, Beach, 
 
 Tomlin, Martin Richardson, Benjau)in Gates, Mathias Schick, Anton 
 
 Harms, Charles A. I?ecker, Henry Miller, Becker Miller, Mr. Curtis, Mar- 
 tin and Wm. Brauer, Wm. Miller, John Morse. Nearly all of the earlier 
 arrivals settled in the groves until they could secure claims from the 
 government and build thereon. They were thus saved many liardships, 
 fuel being close at hand and free to all and shelter afforded from the 
 blasts of winter. 
 
 Plenty of wild game abounded, furnishing a supply for tlie larder. 
 Wild fruit was also in abundance, blackberries, raspberries, gooseberries, 
 grapes, plums, crab-apples, etc. Some families made sugar and syrup by 
 boiling the sap from the fine maple trees for which Sugar Grt^ve is noted. 
 We learn that this custom was in vogue among the Itidians when settlers 
 arrived in 1834. Fine springs of water existed in various places, one of the 
 best known being upon Frederic Coe's farm, near Sugar Creek. This 
 was a general resort for many years. A peculiar contrivance, shaped like 
 a harrow, with boards nailed across, wide enough to hold two barrels, 
 and to which a horse was attached, furnished the motive power for the 
 household supply. This was called in local phrase, a "lizard." At a later 
 day, one well is said to have been used by fifteen families, some of them 
 living two miles away. 
 
 In those primitive days nearly everybody went to church, and from 
 other motives than display of dress or fine equipage, it is to be presumed. 
 People rode in lumber wagons for a long time before anything better 
 could be afforded. Many of the older people had chairs put in for their ac- 
 commodation. A few came in vehicles drawn by oxen, which were chained 
 to trees in the grove near by, during service. A member of one quite 
 prominent family conveyed his household to hear the gospel in a wagon, 
 tlie wheels of which were sawed out of solid blocks of wood. It is said 
 the creaking and groaning of that vehicle was something unearthly and 
 could be heard a mile or more away. It is safe to assume that one fam- 
 ily, at least, was always on time. 
 
 — 498 — 
 
A good (leal of sickiioss prevailed until tlic ('(iiintry was well settled, 
 fevers and ayue l)ein^ the principal complaints. It was supposed to have 
 been caused by iho poisonous vapors arising' from the freshly turned 
 prairie sod. All distincttion was leveled in those days: the common 
 "brotherhood of man" found its noblest expression durinj^ that trying 
 period. Men proved the most devottid of nurses and many a friendship 
 was cemented thereby which endured thi'ouj^hout a life time. 
 
 It is hard U)r us to realize how the country appeared in those early 
 days, when the road from Dixon's Ferry to Gap Grove was a mere trail 
 winditifjr in and out where it was most convenient. A double log house 
 stood in front of John Lord's residence, where the road now runs. One 
 side was occupied 1)y Smith Gilbraith's family. One of the earliest 
 jiioneer women, now deceased, remembered seeing a large Indian en- 
 campme.'it, covering the hill where now stands the house upon Miss J. 
 A. Johnson's farm. The red men selected the site on account of <i fine 
 spring of water which wasa great resort for thirsty travelers for many 
 years. 
 
 Otie day a party of thetu called at her father's when starting out on a 
 hunt iiig expedition. They llrst peered in at a window, as was their in- 
 variai)le custom, and upon entering took an original method to beg for 
 food — their commissary-general producing a roasted cat from an old 
 leathern bag strapped to his waist, over which they had spared tli.em- 
 selves the trouble of dressing. A broad grin was on everj face as he 
 went througli the pantomime of pointing to tlie unfortunate feline and 
 from thence to his mouth. 
 
 The first public l)uriai ground was upon Capt. Fellows' place, now 
 owned by Miss J. A. Johnson. It was situated on the south side of the 
 road on the hill east of the barn. Some of the early interments were 
 Dan Beardsly in 1839, 'Squire Bethea's wife and three, children. Capt. S. 
 Fellows' two daughters (Margaret and Mrs. Allen, who died in 1836), and 
 a Mr. Gee, for whom "Gee's Grove," northeast of "Woosung, was named. 
 It was not very much used after the cemetery at Gap Grove was estab- 
 lished. Most of the remains were re-interred at that place, though 
 quite a number found a final rest in the Sugar Grove burying ground less 
 than twenty years ago. 
 
 Previous to tliis, burials were upon private grounds. There were two 
 graves upon the Power's place at Gap Grove. One was upon the hillside 
 east of the barn, of whose tenant even the very memory has perislied. 
 The other was that of a stranger wlio came up from Kentucky on horse- 
 back and died of what was supposed to be Asiatic cholera, the night of 
 
 — 499 - 
 
his arrival. His friends iiev(M' kiunv liis fate. Tie was burie;i in the or- 
 cliard near the road. The picicet fence sui'roundini,^ his grave was a fa- 
 miliar laridinarl< for many years. 
 
 The cemetery at Gap Grove was located in 1840, the new church heitig 
 completed that spring. The first interment was that of Capt. Fellows 
 Feb. 8, 1840. It was once a beautiful spot, but now sadly gone to decay. 
 It was partially restored about twenty years since, a new fence being 
 built and undergrowth removed. It is situated midway between twr) 
 fine groves, commanding a good view of Rock River and grand scenery 
 beyond. A son of one of tlie pioneers from an eastern state, who visit.ed 
 his parents' graves at an early day at that place, upon 'his return home 
 wrote an elegy, from vi^hich we make the following; selection: 
 
 Crowning that loveliest prairie swell 
 
 With wide old woods on either hand, 
 Are humble graves, where slumber well 
 The earl'er Fathers of th*^ land; 
 The bold, adventurous pioneers 
 Who here cast down their weight of years. 
 
 Men of stout hearts and willing hands. 
 
 Who years ago "Ho! Westward!" passed, 
 Fortunes to win in rich, broad lands, 
 These nan-oic clniniis laid sure at last 
 And spite of codes, or settlers' law, 
 Their titles hold, without a flaw. 
 
 Speaklow— tread softly; here repose 
 
 Heroes, whose pi'aise should never cease. 
 Not leaders of invading foes. 
 
 But of the mightier hosts of peace. 
 
 They came; and noblest conquests made 
 With furrowing plow and trenching spade. 
 
 Slay— haste not hence, but loolf abroad. 
 
 And this vast landscape grasp and scan, 
 This loveliest of the works of God, 
 The Paradise restored to man- 
 None fairer shall the eye explore. 
 Though thrice our orb be circled o'er. 
 
 Look southward, where Rock lliver flows 
 
 With shining current fresh and free; 
 Through rolling prairies, whose green rows 
 liise, like long swells upon the sea; 
 And far beyond, this expanse o'er. 
 Wave groves upon the outer shore. 
 
 — 500 — 
 
d^Urll northward now. ;uul here behold 
 
 Where Plenty, ceaseless, pours her horn 
 More bounteous than the dream of old, 
 Palmyra's matchless fields of corn; 
 
 Stretching away, Avith scarce a boundt 
 Their tall pikes horn the view around. 
 
 And right and left, the green old grove 
 
 Of stalwart trees, where cool streams run. 
 And herds from unfenced pastures rove. 
 And shelter seek from storm and sun; 
 To these the heart all fondly clings 
 As pilgrims to the desert springs. 
 
 And meet it is, these men of toil— 
 
 The goal of their long journey won— 
 Should slumber in the generous soil. 
 Their tasks of life all nobly done; 
 
 And in the spot they loved the best. 
 Be gathered to their final rest, 
 
 For Earth, kind mother, loves that band 
 
 Who dress her fields, and fence and plow, 
 . And sow and gather from her land, 
 
 And eat her bread with moistoned brow— 
 The faithful to that first behest, 
 She folds more kindly to her breast. 
 
 And none more faithful toiled than him 
 
 Whose unstained memory I would fain 
 Wrest from obhvion. cold and dim, 
 With numbers of a worthier strain; 
 But ah, this harp but lethe brings 
 For grief bears heavy on its strings. 
 
 Like all true Americans our ancestors soon established schools. Mrs. 
 Hubbard, afterwards the wile of W. W. Tilton, taught young children in 
 her own house at an early (lav. A piivate school was al.so conducted at 
 the Fender place (now owned by .James Sliced) l)y Wni. Y. .Johnson. 
 
 A private school was also taujjjht at Praii'ieville in an upper room of a 
 house by Levi Gaston. A rou^ih buildiiiir, never Hiiished. which stood 
 luilfvvay l)etween Gap Grove and the old l-'ender liDUiestead, was used at 
 least two winters for scliool purposes, \V. W. Hethea l)ein^f the poda^'o^nie. 
 lint the true historic l)uildiMt,' was tlie old log scliool liouse, standing on 
 the southwest corner of .Joliri II. Page's Meld (now owned liy Mr. Selig.) 
 It was near the forlcsof the road and surruunded by a locust grove. There 
 the children of the pioneers learned the alpliabet and "the three R's/'at 
 
 — 501 — 
 
iertst, before better accommodations were aft'ordod. Many of those pupils 
 have since become distinguished in various walics of life, as ministers of 
 the gospel, educators, physicians, legislators, newspaper writers and uum- 
 agers of large l)usiness enterprises. 
 
 We learn from an old letter, written by a pioneer lady in January. 
 184"), that the school numbered nearly fifty pupils. Some of the early 
 teachers were the following: Wm. Y. Johnson (afterward an Episcopal 
 clergymen), John Norris, Emeline Dodd (afterward his wife), Abigail 
 Norris (a sister who married Noah Thomas), Sarah Hadger (a sister of the 
 Amboy Badgers), and Calista Mason, daughter of Col. Leman Mason and 
 subsequently tiie wife of Morris Johnson. This lady is now living in 
 Colorado and recalls the circumstance of teaching the future president 
 of the Anglo-Swiss Millc Condensing Co., Geo. II. Page, his a-b-c's. 
 
 As the country increased in wealth and population frame buildings 
 for school purposes were erected in several districts. The one at Gap 
 Grove stood across the road from Mrs. Ilutton's house. The one at Sugar 
 Grove was pr()l)al)ly built in 18-t7. It was located near the site of the 
 present church and school edifice. It was severidy plain, unpainted, un- 
 fenced and destitute of shade. Simplicity also reigiied witiiin. Tlie 
 high-backed benches, with their ungainly desks, separated by aiseles, 
 were elevated from one to two feet or more above the floor, sloping dovvn 
 an inclined plane, and were marvels of ugliness. Not a map adorned the 
 walls nor was any apparatus furnished, with the exception of a blacic- 
 board. Thrre was not even a bell to summon tlic [lupils from tlu^r play, 
 the teaclier liaving to rap on a wiiulow with a book or ferule. In Ibeyear 
 1857-8 a brick church witli l)asement for scliool purposes was l)uilt near 
 tlie old site. 
 
 A phonetic school was taught at Gap Grove in early days by llev. A. 
 B. Pikard, a M-ethodist minister from Mt. Morris. His son taught tlie 
 system at the same time in the little log school house standing near 
 John Lord's residence. The former is living at an advanced age at Canon 
 Cil;y, Colorado, and still advocates his hobl)y. His son is a wealthy capi- 
 talist of Denver. 
 
 A famons school which "rose, Jlourisiied and fell" was taught by the 
 Judd brothers in tlie old "Hall"' at Gap (Jrove. It was for advanced stu- 
 dents and was attended by large numl)ers, many from a distance coming 
 on liorsel)ack. Tl^.e old txiilding is still standing and is one of the land- 
 marks deserving notice, liaving served in the soniewliat varied capacities 
 of a steam saw mill, dwelling, sclioolroom, church and ballroom, in addi- 
 tion to all otlier purposes for vvliicli a town hall is generally used. Could 
 
 — 502 — 
 
the old walls spedk they would tell o^ many scenes of revelry in which 
 two generations participated in the days when their motto was ''Let joy 
 be unconttned.'' 
 
 A Canipbeilite minister once carried on a successful revival there dur- 
 ing the .ludd regime. Tlieir converts were quite often taken dowti to the 
 river at midnight and baptized. 
 
 There was much travel during early times, consequently taverns were 
 quite numerous. One was kept by Capt. Fellows at the Peck place and 
 ant)ther by John C. Oliver near by at the Hughes farm. Tra\elers were 
 rarely refused lodgings at that period, hospitality being accounted one of 
 the cardinal virtues in the pioneer's creed. To use a homely phrase, "the 
 latchstring was always out" to all who stood in need. 
 
 The times have sadly degenerated since that era. Prosperity some- 
 times tries people more than adversity. Blacksmith shops were plenty, 
 there being no less than four. James Carley was the pioneer in the busi- 
 ness — his shop standing a little west of Mrs. John Lawrence's residence. 
 He was assisted in his labors by a man named Beach, a slave to strong 
 drink, who belonged to a faujily of high standing in an eastern city. lie 
 was an expert penman, keeping the accounts in a neat manner. John 
 Lord's shop was started in 1841— his son, John L. Lord, acciuiring the 
 property twelve years later. Matthias Selrick's establishment dated 
 from LS43 at Prairieville. Another accommodated the people on the 
 north side of the grove, being operated by Charles Columbia in a log 
 liouse just across the road from Reuben Eastwood's dwelling (ru)W owned 
 by Theodore Wilson. This was subsequently removed across Sugar Creek 
 to the Columliia farm (the McLary place) and the business carried on by 
 a brother, Dana Columbia, ft)r many years. There were four shoenuik- 
 ers, at least, thiee of whom plied their vocation during the winter 
 months. Flax was raised, prepared and spun for shoe thread and other 
 uses upon the little wheels which are such a curiosity to the rising gen- 
 eration. A grist mill was built upon the Elkhorn and run luany years by 
 a Quaker, "Uncle Josey Wilson," as he was generally called. His Hour, 
 made from winter wheat, it is said, could not be excelled. Sawmills 
 were established both on the Elkhorn and Sugar creeks. 
 
 Usually farmers made three or four trips to Chicago during the year, 
 carrying wheat, pork, etc. Provisions were usually taken along, also 
 horse-feed. ''Tripp's Tavern*' at Malugin's Grove was a favorite stopping 
 place, being about midway on the journey. Corduroy roads often had to 
 be made over swampy gntund by laying down fence-rails. Fre(iuently 
 the sacks of grain had, to be conveyed on the backs of the owners across 
 
 — 503 — 
 
the dangerous places. Evidently our forefathers never for once iniafiincd 
 they were havirif,^ a holiday excursion upon those occasions. The stay in 
 the city was as brief as business would admit: sometimes a load of lum- 
 ber, shingles and other building material would be purchased and biought 
 back or a large supply of groceries laid in, neighbors co-operating fur the 
 purpose. If there was room passengers with their trunks would ])e 
 brought to Dixon It was always a joyfu'i time for the children when 
 they discovered the long-watched-for wagon returning and were later per- 
 mitted to sample the contents of certain packages. Probably no apples 
 they ever tasted afterward had near so fine a flavor as those which came 
 to them from the great city by the lake. 
 
 Pioneer days were not all filled with the dull routine of care; singing 
 schools, revival meetings, spelling contests, etc., varied the monotony. 
 Occasionally, manv of the "F. F's" would "thread the giddy nuizes of the 
 dance"' or indulge in the amusement of a charivari. Concerning the 
 latter tradition has handed down the following: A large proportion of 
 the staid citizens of the little community at Sugar Grove met one even- 
 ing at the house of a prominent resident where a newly married couple 
 was supposed to be staying. The usual "concourse of sweet sounds" was 
 evoked and various pranks played — one leading spitit, who afterward 
 balanced the s(;ales of even-handed justice for many years, being reputed 
 to have climbed the roof and executed a song and dance movement 
 thereon, beginning with "my old daddy had a gun," etc. After two 
 hours of the din the proprietor of the beseiged castle, a brother of the 
 bride, by the way, appeared upon the scene and quietly informed the 
 merry-makers that they had been "barking up the wrong tree," as the 
 bridal party was at least ten miles away, as it afterward proved. 
 
 Singing schools were held, both at the Gap and Sugar Grove by a 
 famous teacher, one Durgen. They were numerously attended tor sev- 
 eral winters. Spelling schools were quite popular also, more attention 
 being paid to orthography than at present. Sides would be chosen and a 
 "spelling-down" contest would ensue until only one combatant was mas- 
 ter of the field. The sole method of illumination of those "dark ages" 
 was by candle power. Families were expected to furnish their quota ol 
 "tallow dips'" ui)on such occasions. They were arranged in sockets at 
 intervals upon the walls and (luite often in their last stages would drop 
 unctuous favors upon the unlucky being underneath. School papers 
 would sometimes be read, always enlivened with items of a decidedly 
 personal nature. Illuminating oil in lamps for school use at Sugar Grove 
 was employed about 1857. The lluid lirst in use wi^j camphene. 
 
 — 504 — 
 
i^otices for evening meetings would be given out, sometimes from the 
 pulpit, to convene "at early candle light," meaning at an early hour. 
 
 Sunday schools were quite well attended during pleasant weather, 
 though the system in vogue of requiring children to commit verses to 
 memory and the lack of attractive literature was not well calculated to 
 draw pupils. Bible classes for elderly people were then unknown. Prizes 
 were frequently offered to the two scholars who would commit the most 
 verses to memory — biljles and testaments being the usual awards. After 
 the teacher had listened complacently to the recital of a chapter or two 
 by rival competitors and prompted several others through their weekly 
 "stint" there was usually no great surplus of time left for comments on 
 the lesson. One thing we always had in great sufiiciency— tracts! Like 
 the cruse of oil and barrel of meal, the stock never diminised. They 
 supplied in some measure (or were supposed to) the lack of good libra- 
 ries. Some were written in narrative form, others consisted of direct 
 appeals to the sinner to flee from the wrath to come. The two most in 
 demand, or supply rather, was "The Shepherd of Salisbury Plains" and 
 "The Dairyman's Daughter"— wherein some of the good people were 
 thankful for the small favor of salt to eat upon their potatoes, and the 
 worthy shepherd was always pleased with the weather, for whatever 
 pleased the Lord pleased him also. 
 
 We had Sunday school celebrations every summer, usually on the 4th 
 of July. They were generally held at the Gap, though once we went in 
 a long procession to Buffalo Grove. The children vvould meet at some 
 point and march in couples to the grove, where seats were provided. 
 Singing and speech-making usually took up the time till dinner was 
 served. Tables were always provided and bountiful meals served, basket 
 picnics being then unknown. Upon one occasion some people from the 
 old country were present and brought strange looking victuals— amoiig 
 others, custard pies pleasantly flavored with ripe currants! But the 
 crowning joy of all the festivities came just before breaking up, when 
 certain mysterious boxes, kept in the backLrround, were opened and the 
 delicious C(<ntents passed to eager claimants. Children were not in much 
 danger of being cloyed by sweetmeats at that era, most of their confec- 
 tionery being of the home made variety. Consequently a few sticks of 
 "store candy" and two or three bunches of raisins in their possession 
 caused them to feel that tlie summit of earthly bliss was attained. 
 
 The first church in I'altuyra was at Gap Grove, on the site of the 
 school house now there. It was built jointly by the Congregationalists 
 and Methodists and occupied alternate Sundays by those two denomina- 
 
 — 505 — 
 
tions. The ditiicnsions Wore L*4x.'!(i. It was painted white (Jiitsidc and 
 within, with the exception of tlie puli)it. L()ii>;- benches, witli l);icks to 
 them, seated the conf^reyation. Only one stove was used tor heatinj? the 
 building^. The windows were destitute of l)lin(is (;i- ciirtait.s. Tin socl{- 
 ets for candles were arranged iiiioii the walls, with rellectors at the l)a('k. 
 Con^rejfational singing was in vngne at tliat era. .Idiin H. Page, assisted 
 by a tuning fork, was always depended on to '"piteh tlie tune" fur a long 
 period. At evening meetings, when candles pioved ndfaclory uDiin tlx; 
 pulpit, some otTicious briit-her Wduld dextrously trim t,he olTtMiding wick 
 while tliose in tlie l)ackgroun(l wore either entii'ely tu'glcctcd or attended 
 by volunteers who generally employed Nriture's snutTers. Only a few 
 names of the early ministers can be recalled — Rev. Copelin (Congrega- 
 tional) being one of the l)est remembered. Barton Cartrightcame occas- 
 ionally, but it was never on his circuit. Previous to this period services 
 were held at Capt. Fellows' (Kev. .lames Mcl^aig being cue of tihe minis- 
 ters], and at a little log schoolliouse wliicli stood neaf Horace (Jilb. rt's 
 residence at Gap Grove. 
 
 Mrs. Martha Parks, now in lier 85th year, remembers attending churcii 
 there the first year she and lier iiusband lived at the old lioiuestead, in 
 1839. Rev. Arrion Gaston was the othciating cleigyman upon thatoccas- 
 ion. Mrs. Parks is also the only survivor of those who organized the 
 Dixon Baptist cliurch iti 1S38. "Mother Dixon" beluga very active and 
 devoted member. 
 
 It is wortliy of mention, also, tihat Mrs. Parks' daughttM", Mrs. Thomas 
 Ayres was named Ijy Mrs. Dixon, for iierself, '•Rebecca Dixon,"' and gave 
 her a town lot as a name present. She urged Mr. Paiks to accept the 
 deed, and have it recorded, but- he "thought it wouhl never amounts to 
 any thing," and did not (h) so. The fact tliat the lob is now occui)ie<l l)y 
 Alexander & ilowell's store makes comment unnecessary. 
 
 The early records of I'almyra are rather meager; K. li.Ibish was the 
 first postmaster; and the llrst justice of the peace, after tiownship organi- 
 zation in bS;W, were Levi (laston and VV. W. Bethea. who were succ(M'(h'd 
 by Matliias Schick and Hiuiry A. Coe, ,J. Mori-is .Johnson and \V. W. Til- 
 ton, constables, from b839. were Khen II. .Johnson, David P.. (,'ontrt'll, 
 Martin Fender, VV. W. Tilton, Morris .lolinson, Charles Columi)ia, \'ol- 
 ney Mason, Cliarles Martin and Dana Columbia. 
 
 Two letters liave lately come into tiie uosession of the family of the 
 late El)en H. .bjhnson and wife, which will be read wiin much iMtcrest-, 
 owing to tlie fact that thev wei-e written half a century or more ago, con- 
 taining much interesting infoiinatioti aliout the country, and vvt'.re the 
 
 — aUO — 
 
joint productions of "Uncle E])en" and ''Aunt Sarah," as they were I'amii- 
 iarly called. This was before the days of envelopes or postage stamps; 
 the letters were written upon lar^je sheets of i^aper, folded to resemble an 
 envelope, and sealed with small red wafers. They are marked 2,icts. for 
 postage, in the upper right hand corner. The one bearing date Feb. Tth, 
 1845, shows that the Dixon post ollice had attained to the dignity of pos- 
 session of a stamp. The handwriting uf each is remarkably legible, being 
 easily read, though the paper is brittle and very yellow with age. The 
 oldest, dated Sugar Grove, Ogle county, Nov. 18, 1838 (54 years ago) was 
 addressed to Mr. Johnson's mother, in her far-oflf home in York state, 
 one page apiece, in the handvvriiing of each being devoted to that pur- 
 pose. We make selections which will be of general interest: ''We ar- 
 rived in Illinois, Oct. !)Lh, after a prosperous journey of five weeks, one of 
 whicli was spent with relatives in Ohio. We lirst went to Monmouth, 
 where our friends had preceded us and we first thought of settling, but 
 after viewing the country over, they all concluded to settle here, 110 
 miles north of that place. We are in a very handsome country, five miles 
 from Dixon's Ferry, and have been three weeks in our new situation. 
 
 We find the county mostly settled by eastern people which makes it 
 very pleasant. Tlie majority are from New York and New Hampshire, 
 with quite a number from Massachusetts, Vermont, Pennsylvania, Ohio, 
 Indiana and Kentucky. Fatlier and mother will remain at Monmoutli 
 vvitli a Ijrotlier till si)iing. whe.i tiie/ will rejoin us here. (Mrs. .loliri- 
 son's father was Capt. .b)nas .M. Johnson, a veteran in his 7(ith year, \vho 
 greatly enjoyed the new country during the remaining four years of his 
 pilgrimage.) Mr. .lolmsou givijs a slight hint of homesickness in tlie fol- 
 lowing: "i like tlie country full as well as I ever expected to. but if I 
 owned a decent farm in York state I would never sell it to come here, 
 though once here a man could do better. The crops here are all very 
 good — it is nothing uncommon for a man to raise 2,000 bushels of corn, 
 and watermelons l)y boatloads. Wheat is $1.25 and corn 50cts. per 
 bushel."' 
 
 The next letter, l)earing date six years later, was to relatives in the 
 east, who sought information on various points, with a view of removal 
 here. "We l):ive enjoyed almost uninterrupted health ever since wc 
 came to the country, with tlie except ion of the attack of bilious-fever, 
 which was rather severe." (It is worthy of note that this was the only 
 family in the country wliicli escai)ed the ravages of ague: it was. perhajis, 
 owing to the elevatied situation of the house,' as manv thought.) "I hav«; 
 a farm which I could proltably sell for $1,000, l)ut which I would not ex- 
 
 — 507 — 
 
change for the whole toWn of tlainbrklge f'or farming, (homesickness fit)* 
 pear? to be gone.) I raised 1,000 bushels of corn, wheat and oats, the 
 past year without any hired help. Our markets are Chicago and St. 
 Louis, by way of Rock and Mississippi rivers, and souietiujes the lead 
 mines at Galena. Wheat is from Tocts. to $1.00, ciirii25cts. — 80 at Galena, 
 oati; 20 to 25cts., butter 12 to 18cts., cheese G to Sets., ptirk, dressed, three 
 to four dollars, horses, $100 to $150 a span, cows, $8 to $12, sheep, $1 50 to 
 $2.00, wool, ;^lcts., good timber is from ten to twelve dollars per acre. 
 Prairie, now unsold, one mile and further from timber, can be had at 
 government price, 10 sliillings per acre. W(joden axle wagons are from 
 $60 to $70, wrought, $70 to $90. As to dairying, there is no better country 
 in the world; cows feeding on our prairie grass yield as much milk and 
 better in quality than in your state. (Orange county, hide your dimin- 
 ished headi) and wool nearly doubles in cjuantlty. Society good; one 
 church within a mile and a half and a log school house one mile away 
 with nearly fifty pupils this winter, among them our eldest, a boy of five, 
 named Thomas H., who attends every day. Our place resembles an old 
 settled country; good buildings and good fences, money plenty for pro- 
 duce of all kinds this season. Oui soil is of the best and has beeti proved 
 to bear good crops from eiglit to ten years without manuring. Timber 
 good; oak, sugar maple, black walnut, l)utternut, basswood, etc. Water 
 good, but in some places have to go througli rock by blasting, although 
 there are some of the finest springs in the world. Our winters are much 
 milder than with you and this winter milder than ever, no sleighing. All 
 I have written is no misrepresentation, however few in your country can 
 credit it. Come and see. If you conclude to come, the way by the lakes 
 IS much the shortest and cheapest. Give me due notice and I will try and 
 meet you — at Chicago." 
 
 Rev. Stephen N. Fellows, of Iowa, a son of one of the earliest 
 pioneers, kindly contributes the following sketch of "llie good old 
 times." 
 
 My father came with his family to Sugar Grove in November, 1834, 
 went into a cabin just west of the Myers place, down in the Grove. The 
 cabin was U by U feet, and fourteen of us nujved into it. In the spring 
 of 1835 lie built a log house on ourold place, (the Peck farm.) In 183(5 he 
 built an addition to it of two stories, vvilh a room between. The upper 
 story was used for a school room and church purposes. From 1836 or 7 to 
 1840 this was the only place for meetings, \l was a regular preaching place 
 (Ml the circuit. Sometimes ([uarterly meeLings were held there. Iti 1839 
 fathei, Wm. Martin and Ambrose Hubbard united, with such help as 
 
 — 508 — 
 
they could get, to build the old church at Gap Grove. It was 24x36 and 
 stood (in the present- site of the school house there. It was enclosed in 
 the fall of 1839. Fatlier died Keh. 8, 1840, and was the first to he carried 
 into that church for burial. In the spring of 1840 it was finished and 
 occupied as a church. When we came to Palmyra, the Indians were very 
 plentiful — sometimes a hundred or more would pass our house and camp 
 near by. Mother lias told me that I used to pbiy with the Indian cliild- 
 ren. They were very peaceable, never molested or stole anything; from 
 us. Sometiiues in winter they came to beg food and mother always gave 
 to them. We suffered hardship, the first winter in the little cabin. We 
 had no butter or potatoes, our flour gave out, then our corn meal, and for 
 some weeks corn was cut from the col) with a jack-plane. For meat we 
 had some "hog meat,"' mother would not call it pork. This hog meat and 
 hominy, made from the planed corn, was our food. But we were well 
 and hearty and came through all right. I don't know as these incidents 
 are of any value, but they are given as I remember them. Regarding 
 schools, I think my sister Margaret and brother Samuel were the first to 
 teach in that township Samuel taught school at Buffalo Grove during 
 the winterof 1834 and '35, the first winter we were there. I think the 
 next winter, 18.36, he taught in our house. The first building for school 
 purposes was built at the Gap. The first Sunday school was held there, 
 arul Wm. Martin was superintendent and only teacher. I was one of the 
 first scholars. I remember that one Sunday morning I committed fifty 
 verses of the Bible to memory and walked two niiles by 9 a. m. and re- 
 cited them all." 
 
 "Lord John Shillabcr,'' as he was generally called, was quite a noted 
 character, well remembered liy all tlu> early settlers, who owned a large 
 tra(!t of land near our iiortiiern boundary. He came there from Massa- 
 chusetts and bought a section of land U)v the purpose of founding a col- 
 (Uiy; the scheme failed, leaving him an unwilling landed proprietor. He 
 w;is a i)rolii('r of H. P. Shillaber, tlie genial Immorist.. liest known as the 
 auilKjrof Mrs. Partington's sayings. At one time he had nearly the 
 whole of his doma'n in wheat, whicii was all cut with the old "turkey- 
 wing" cradles and Ixiund by han<l. Great ditflculiy was experienced in 
 procuring sufficient help in time tosave ihp grain. The farm was after- 
 ward stocked with sheep, to ihe tinml)er of 700; shepherd dogs were em- 
 ployed to look after them. Hunting dogs were also kept for the benefit 
 of sportsmen. He was a widower, liut kept up a large e.stablishnient 
 with the aid of colored servants, often entertaining in grand style. 
 Among other pets were parrots and monkeys, one of the latter often 
 
 — 509 — 
 
acconipanyiiij,^ liis master in the fine carria^n". sittirijf besifle liini, wiLli a 
 colored coachuian in t' font . lie was a very intelligent, well informed 
 man, who had traveled in foreign countries, s[)ending some years in 
 the West Indies, where his son iiad a large indigo plantiition. Many old 
 settlers remembered with gratitude his favors to them, in lending them 
 books from his fine lilirarv, magazines, London illustrated papers, etc. 
 It war^. always a joyful occasion for the children when he came, as his 
 pockets were always stocked with nuts or candies for their benefit. The 
 writer of this sketch has a hazy remembrance of these favors and of being 
 presented with a bird also by the great personage we regarded as a second 
 Santa Claus. 
 
 His health failed and he returned to his native land, where he died a 
 few years later. The great estate was divided and sold. INlany \ears 
 later the old homestead became the i)roj)erty of the late Wayne II. Parks, 
 where he resided many years. 
 
 Almost every community has some odd characters— people who difTer 
 greatly from their fellows. Palmyra has had a fair share of such— most 
 of whom have ])asse(l away. We will select as a good type Milton Curtis, 
 who is yet living and with us occasionally. His name is familiar as a 
 household word throughout llie wiiole county, on account of liis constant 
 pedestrian excursions over it for nearly thirty years past. He came west 
 from New Hampshire with his father and an older brother vvliile (piite 
 young, and grew up with the country. His "local habitation" was at 
 Prairieville for many years, but he long since renounced allegiance there, 
 consoling himself wiih the old proverl) t.hat '"a prophet has no honor in 
 his own country and house." Milton is a would-lie poet, yearning for 
 recognition, which never comes, and consequently is embittered against 
 his unappreciative fellow-citizens. This veritable "Wandering Jew" has 
 a regular circuit extending through this county and all our boundaries, 
 from which he sometimes makes little detours to take in neigliboring 
 states — once straying as far off as Kansas. He will remr.in a few weeks 
 in one place, doing some job of work, when the state of his wardrobe 
 compels him to the act. His purchases in that line always seem to be- 
 long to the misfit variety. Miltoii's Muse leads him over a wide field, the 
 subjects of his "poems" emhracing'most of the leading questions of the 
 day. Not having a copy at hand we are unable to give a critical review. 
 In early editions (paper covers) he was not very gallant toward the ladies, 
 being strongly opposed to their voting: his sole argument was "they can't 
 hitch up" to go to the polls. Among other peculiarities, he is a great ad- 
 vocate of fresh air — insisting on open doors and windows, even in zero 
 
 — 510 — 
 
weatlier. F(ir this aiirl other reasons ho is noi a very popular guest with 
 the ladies. We leaiii t hat M iltou (lid the country good service during 
 tlir late civil war. He enlisted in .a New York regiment and served 
 faillifully tor Miree years. All through his sojourn in Dixie he was iti 
 t he luihit of wrii ing tiO old cronies (luile freciuently giving a record of 
 liis advcMitures ail in rli\ nic. lie recently secured a pension and has pur- 
 chasetl i)roport,y in Marshall town, Iowa. 
 
 jNIilton had a l.-al t-brother named .Idnalhaii, who was also eccentric. 
 He was much nlder and possessi'd consideral)le property. lie was quite a 
 gifted artist, painting many poitraits in oil, which were said to he excel- 
 letit likenesses. St)me oi them ai'e still in good preservation. He, also, 
 was of a roving disposition. Inir. liis career was cut short by being 
 drowned in Rock lliver at Como while on one of his tramps. He once 
 returned lo his native heath in New Ilampsliire, where he l)ecatne cele- 
 br.iti'd for(|iiit(! an exploit: lie found his denominational brethren (luar- 
 relling over church matters (as they occasionally do), Jonathan said but 
 little but meditated a good deal— finally evolving a brilliant scheme from 
 his ti'oubled l)iain. whicli he proceeded to {)Ut into execution. One evcn- 
 inu- he iiuietly strolletl over to t,he church and applied the torch, only in- 
 tending to "l)urn out ///n share," he explained. When people arrived on 
 the scene he was coolly reading the bil)l(! by the cheerful blaze. 
 
 Mrs. Locada (Seavey) Donaldson, one of the early residents, living 
 near Polo, 111., writes to an old frien;! as follows: "There were eight of 
 us who came lo I'almyra in th;^ fall, arriving at .lohn Page's Oct. 2, 1840. 
 Tile only building used for a schoolhouse at thati time was an old cooper 
 shop at trap drove, near the widow Martin's, and owned l»y Grandfatlier 
 Hill. It was a log l)iilldiug, destitute of a floor 
 
 The school was taught by Almeda Wells in the summer of 1841 and in 
 winter at Widow Hubbard's house. The next summer (1842) the old log 
 schoolhouse on the Page farm was built. The first teacher employed was 
 Culista Mason. It was abandoned for school use I think in 184H, and was 
 shortly afterward used as a dwelling by the family of Wm Benjamin. I 
 remember of one family at least, the Masons, who kept silkworms. They 
 were fed on the large leaves of a tender variety of mulberry— the multi- 
 canlis. They made (iiiile a (luaiitity of ihrearl. a i)art of which was sold 
 in Chic^igo. Tiiis was in 1S4.S-4-.'). ''I'he first, liouse of worship was the 
 frame ciinrch at tlie. (Jap (cinnpleted just before our arrival). All the 
 winter wear for men and women was of home, manufacture. The occu- 
 pations of spinning and weaving took up the greater part of women's 
 time. 
 
 — 511 — 
 
Mrs. Mary (Monk) James, of Sterling, 111., gives in her "experience" as 
 follows: "There were live of us in our family when we left Malone, 
 Franklin County, N. Y., in the spring of 1848 to seek our fortunes in the 
 far west. Two men with teams were hired to convey us and our house- 
 hold goods to a point on the St. Lawrence river, where we embarked in 
 a steamboat, continuing on our way through tlie various lakes until wo 
 reached Chicago— then a city of considerable importance. Our former 
 townsmen. Hiram Parks and Abner Moon (the latter a brother-in-law), 
 had agreed to meet us there with teams, but not finding them after wait- 
 ing several hours new men were employed to convey us and our goods to 
 our destination. The roads were bad in many places, and upon arriving 
 at the little town of Naperville the horses gave out completely, leaving 
 us in despair. Just at this interesting stage of affairs, while we were 
 eating our dinners at the the tavern, our belated-escorts appeared on the 
 scene, stopping to feed their teams and get their dinner at thesame place. 
 Mr. Moon declared that as soon as he caught sight of "the old blue chest' 
 in the wagon he knew he need go no farther. (This was an ancient fam- 
 ily relic, brought over the sea from old England.) This was in April and 
 the roads were in ))ad condition a good part of the way. A good many 
 times the horses had to be taken oft" from o:;e wagon to help the other 
 out of the ruts. Corduroy roads were built whenever material was found 
 for the purpose. 
 
 It took us four days to reach Dixon, from whence we journeyed on to 
 Prairieville, where we stayed with Mr. Moon's family several days. We 
 then moved on Ben Gates' farm, where we stayed a year. Our next move 
 was to Sugar Grove, whore we lived in a log house on the border of the 
 woods, near the big spring on Frederic Coe's farm, a portion of which my 
 father and lu'other rented. We afterward moved near Woosuiig, secur- 
 ing eighty acres of government land. 
 
 My first husband, John Benjamin, came west in 1844. Some years 
 later he rented the Fellows place in partnership with his brother, William 
 Benjamin; while there, under contract, he set out the beautiful row of 
 hard maples, extending from the hou>-e along the road westward. They 
 are now over forty years old."< 
 
 Mr. John C. Oliver and wife, familiarly known as "Uncle John" and 
 "Aunt Lydia," the only old couple now living of the early settlers of Pal- 
 myra, reside in Sterling, 111., Mr. Oliver being in his 89th year and 
 his wife in her 76th. They have shared life's joys and sorrows together 
 for fifty-eight years, and are still blessed with a reasonable degree of 
 
 — 512 — 
 
health. The golden wedding of this venerable couple was celebrated 
 about eight years since, in a very appropriate manner. 
 
 Mr. Oliver was born in Erie county, Penn., in 1804, coming of Revo- 
 lutionary stock. He left there in 1832, coming to Michigan and settling 
 at White Pigeon. He soon enlisted in the Black Ilawk war, serving un- 
 til the close. Returning to his home he met his future wife at that 
 place in the fall of 1834, and in September, the following year, they were 
 married, going to a relative's at Michigan City, Ind., for that purpose. 
 In 1837 they moved to North grove, five miles north of Mt. Morris, 111., 
 where Mr. Oliver built a saw mill which he operated two years, when he 
 sold out and removed to Palmyra, in October, 18.30. He there bought a 
 claim of his l)rother-in-law, Simon Fellows, for which he received the 
 title and deeds when the land came into market. He had saved $800 or 
 more for that purpose for quite a period. This was all in silver half- 
 dollars. Wishing to leave home for a few days to attend conference at 
 Mt. Morris, after much deliberation, they selected a corner of the chicken- 
 house for their stronghold in which to secrete their money. A deep hole 
 was dug, in which the treasure, secured in a stout cloth, was buried and 
 a nest of eggs, with a setting-hen placed on guard over the spot. Then 
 they went on their way rejoicing. So biddv sat on in dreamy content, 
 all unconscious that she was doing police duty over a bank of deposit. 
 (A near neighbor secreted his earnings in his cellar, under the pork 
 barrel. This was before the era of banks, when the banditti flourished 
 in all their glory. Mrs. Oliver was a famous weaver, manufacturing 
 many yards of "Kentucky Jeans," for men's wear and flannel for women's 
 drefses, spinning all the warp and Hlling and doing the coloring herself. 
 Some of the latter was quite handsome in design. She was also a land- 
 lady for a year or more, when they kept tavern. On one occasion they 
 kept sixteen men, with their teams over night; they were from Milledge- 
 vilie and had sixteen loads of dressed hogs. She rememViers attending 
 a wedding, going in an ox-wagon, along with neighbors. The oxen 
 trotted at a good pace half the distance, over the trackless prairie. The 
 cabin had no floor; the bride was dressed in a gorgeous challie; liquor was 
 passed around freely among the men, as was the custom in those good old 
 days. A six-quart milk pan full of custard was provided for dessert at 
 supper. A justice of the peace performed the ceremony. Mr. Oliver 
 soon had a fine lot of sugar maples growing in his door yard and a thrifty 
 young orchard of seedling apple trees set out: the latter were procured 
 from a brother-in-law's stock near by. To Noah Beede and wife belongs 
 the credit of establishing the first nursery, probably in the county. 
 
 -^ 513 — 
 
Thfy brouuliL ;i lar^^c (lUiinlity of ai)i)lc seeds wiLli Llicni, saved in their 
 former hoiiie in far otT New Hampshire. Mr. Oliver assisted in buihling 
 thei'liiirch at (^lap (Jrove, doing carpenter work,- contributing the door, 
 whicli was made of lilacl< walnut. In tliosc days it was considered tlie 
 finest church west of Chicago. 
 
 We feel that these sketches of the early days would t)e incomplete did 
 we not pause to pay a just tribute to the pioneer women yet living and 
 t(; the memory of those gone before. Tliey stot)d bravely Ity their hus- 
 l)an(ls, willingly sharing the toil and burdens incident to frontier lifeand 
 making the waste places blossom as the rose. IMost of them luid large 
 families of children to be reared, clothed and [educated. Often would 
 they be left to guard over tlieir little tlock and perform many tasks be- 
 longing to tlie husband, while he was necessarily absent on business, for 
 a week or more at a time. On such occasions, many sleepless nights 
 would be passed, keeping lonely vigil by the bedside of ailing children or 
 listening in shuddering dread to the howling of wolves. The amount of 
 labor they performed, with the primitive methods then in use, seems 
 incredible to theyouth of today. Labor saving inventions in the house- 
 hold and every department of farm labor have wrought out woman's 
 freedom to a wondrous degree. Sewing was all done by hand, as a niatter- 
 of course, as it had not yet entered into the brain of the wildest enthusi- 
 ast to conceive of the modern sewing machine. The useful accomplish- 
 ment of knitting was handed 'down from n>other to daughters; stockings 
 of all kinds, mittens, both double and single thread, and even gloves grew 
 (slowly, it must be confessed, in most cases) to completion under their 
 skillful fingers. It is to be regreted that this feminine industry bids 
 fair to become one of the "lost arts," or to be taken up as a fad by the 
 coming young lady of the period. 
 
 The old dash churn, which numbered an innumerable procession of 
 martyrs, was about the only kind known, while a zinc or wooden wash- 
 board was the only Invention devised to lessen the labors of "blue Mon- 
 day." Cheese making, in a small way, was carried on in a majority of 
 homes during hot weather, when butter making was impracticable, they 
 were made in a hooj), on the old fashioned hand presses, with their in- 
 tolerable creaking and groaning. Of those old relics there is probably 
 not a vestage in existence. The quality of the article manufactured by 
 this method was usually very good, quite equal to the modern creamery 
 product in the opinion of good judges. We hear of tlax being raised, 
 hatchelled and otherwise prepared for spinning, upon the little wheels, 
 in sufficient quantities to supply shoemakers with thread, and probably 
 
 - 514 -^ 
 
for household uses. also. The silkworm iiidusLiy llou rislicd in a small 
 way. We hear of three families, aL least, ( lieede, Mason ami Fellows) 
 who were supplied with thread hy the little spinners. 
 
 Ill those (hiys /learly every farmer ke|)t moreor less sh(.'e[): a ft^er shear- 
 ing time, as soon as convenient, the (leeces would ho taken in iiand, 
 waslied and dried by the thrifty housewife, next came a picking over 
 process, during which a moderate quantity of grease applied to the pro- 
 duct was considered indispensable. This disagreeable task was gener- 
 ally assigned to the girls, who breathed a sigh of relief when it was over 
 and the wool [jacked olT to the carding mill. I>efore these were built, 
 rolls were made upon tlie little hand cards, (now rarely seen) a lalntriuiis 
 process. Wool batts for comforters were also prepared upon them. A 
 carding mill was in service many years at Empire. Whiteside county, 
 being finally destroyed by tire. After woolen mills were established in 
 Aurora, many farmers took their wool tliere. exchanging for stocking 
 yarn, flannel blankets and line grades of woolen cloth, for men's clothiyg. 
 After the snowy rolls came home, the old spinning wheel, brought from 
 the far away eastern home, would make merry niusic by night and day, 
 until the yearly supply of stocking and mitten yarn was spun, doubled 
 and twisted and reeled off into[skeins ready for dyeing. Indigo-bluc and 
 madder-red were the leading colors: some resorted to the woods for 
 variety, gathering sumach-bobs, various barks and shucks from several 
 kinds of nuts. Hand-looms were possessed in many homes, upon which 
 were woven a great deal of flannel for sheeting, "Kentucky Jeans'' and 
 other kinds for men's wear, and linsey-woolse> for women's dresses. 
 Some of the patterns of the latter were (luite handsome, In some kinds 
 the warp and filling would all be spun upon tlie old wheels and colored 
 with home-made dyes. Instances were known where the men of the 
 household were clothed throughout, even to overcoats, from the product 
 of the looms, woven Viy the busy housewife and afterwards shaped into 
 garments by her skilled fingers. Often would the hour of midnight find 
 faifliful mothers wearily plying the needle, by the dim light of a candle, 
 that their families might be comfortably clad, 
 
 If crowns for brows are granted in that "land that is fairer than day," 
 surely those of our pioneer mothers must shine with the brightest of 
 jewels. 
 
 King Solomon's apostrophe to the good wife applies with ecjual force 
 to their attril)utes: "She seeketh wool and llax and worketh diligently 
 with her hands. She riseth also while it is yet night and givctU meat to 
 her household" 
 
 — ' 515 -- 
 
"She layelh her hands to the spindle and lier hands huldeth the dis- 
 taff." 
 
 "She looketh well to the ways of her household and eateth not the 
 bread of idleness," and verily, do her children "rise up and call her 
 blessed. 
 
 Mr. Cluirles Martin, an old resident of (lap Grove, now living in Fre- 
 mont, Nebraska, sends the following recollections: "The first building 
 used for a public school was erected in 18-36-37, about where the oak trees 
 in my old orchard stood. Mary Hill was the first teacher, she afterward 
 became the wife of Michael Fellows. Tne secon<l building was put up in 
 1838 or 39, this was never completed. It stood a little north of Mrs. 
 Lennox' home. W. W. Bethea taught there two winters and Mary Hill 
 in the summer. The third structure was also a log structure upon the 
 Page farm— built in 1840 or '41. I think Samuel Fellows was the first 
 teacher. A log house— built for a dwelling— upon Harvey Morgan's place 
 (Dudley Hubbard's) was vacated in a year and used for a school. The 
 frame schoolhouse near the Power's place was built in 1946 or "47. There 
 were also quite a number of private schools before districts were organ- 
 ized. The first teachers at the Gap were Mrs. Mary (Hill) Follows, in the 
 winter of 1836-'37, Mrs. W . W. (Hubljard) Tilton summer of 1839; Miss 
 Artemesia Hultz, summer 18.38; Mrs. Bennett (daughter of Col. Johnson 
 of Dixon), summer "39. 1 remember that my mother kept silkworms, as 
 did Mrs. Noah Beedc also. My father (Wm. Martin) organized the first 
 Sunday school in the town. George and Stephen Fellows and myself are 
 the only ones living who were members of it. 
 
WiffiiXrr? Y. (Jo^uj^Qu, 
 
 WILLIAM Y. JOHNSON was born in P.lanford, Mass., September 
 2lHt. 1810. When he was eight years old his fatlier moved with 
 his family to Hroome County, New Yorl<, where he lived until 
 he migrated to the west. In September, IS.'U, he was married to Louisa 
 Mason of the same county. 
 
 Deciding to make a new home for themselves in the west, they left 
 Harpersville for Illinois the last week in August, 18;i7, intending to make 
 the greater portion of the journey in their own wagon. 
 
 The previous summer Mrs. Johnson's father, Col. Leman Mason, had 
 come west with his son Sterne and had bought a farm in Knox County, 
 Illinois, on which there were two log caljins. The following spring he 
 sent his son back for the family. Tliere were two wagons in the com- 
 pany. In one were Mr. and Mrs. Johnson and their baby, who was Init 
 nine weeks old, and Mrs. Johnson's sister; in the other were six of the 
 Mason family. They sold all their household property and brought with 
 them only one bedstead and table aside from their liedding and personal 
 effects. The wagons were the common spring seat lumber wagons with 
 board tops supported by standards, with curtains on the sides and end. 
 
 When they reached Buffalo they took passage (m a boat for Cleveland 
 with all their l)elongings. On this boat they occupied u cabin in company 
 with many other families, most of whom were bound for the west. It 
 was a large cabin with bunks all along the sides. They, however, pre- 
 ferred their own l)eds, which they spread on their chests aud hung sheets 
 around them to sliield them from the view of the other passengers. They 
 also prepared their own meals, not only on the boat, but throughout the 
 entire journey, stipulating for that privilege wherever they stopped for 
 the night; at noon they usually partook of a lunch while the horses 
 were resting and feeding. They met with a little adventure on the boat 
 — where a man was detected in an attempt to break into one of their 
 trunks. 
 
 — JlT — 
 
When they arrived at Cleveland they put their horses in a stable 
 while they were yetting out the way'ons and loadini^ on tlie goods. What 
 was tlieir consternation upon going for their team, when all was in read- 
 iness, to lind tliat one of tlie horses had received a cl(>an deep cut the en- 
 tire width of its slioulders. a cut that could only liave heon nuuh^ with a 
 sharj) l<t)ife. While speculating how it could have possibly occurred and 
 what motive could liave prompted sucii a cruel deefl. and mourning tliat^ 
 tliey would he delayed on their j)urney, a man came up and seeing tlie 
 condition of the horse, recommended an ointment whicli would take all 
 soreness from t.he wound, and even went t(t a store where he l<new it was 
 to be had and got some for them, afterward iielping them to dress the 
 leg. Tliis tiriielv assistance etia1)led them to continuo their journey the 
 same day, and that evening they reached Medina, ()., where a sister of 
 Mrs. Mason was living, and remaiiipd over the Sabbath with her, which 
 allowed both themselves and their horses a most welcome rest. Little of 
 moment occurred during the remainder of their trip, except once when 
 the wagon upset in going over a low wet place where logs had been thrown 
 across the road to prevent teams from becoming mired. At that time 
 Mrs. Johnson's sister had her shoulder dislocated and sulTered great pain 
 until they could reach a village many miles farther on, where she could 
 receive the attention of a physician and have it set. When they reached 
 tbeir destination the second week in Octol)er, after six long weeks on the 
 way. they found that Col. Mason had sold his farm. Fearing that he 
 would not be able to ol)tain a clear title to the land— being locat(Ml on the 
 military tract— and having been offered a good price for it. he thought 
 best to dispose of it. Fortuiuitely there was not far distant a cabin they 
 were able to rent. It was small and bad only an earthen floor, but l>y 
 going (juite a distance they got some lumber and in t^lie (bourse of a couj.le 
 of weeks a floor was laid. In this cabin the entire family, Johnsons and 
 Masons, lived through the ensuing winter. 
 
 \'ery sorry were they that they had parted with all their hnuseliold 
 furniture, for vvith the exception of the bed and table above mentioned 
 they had none. "Mother wit,"' however, supplied them with the former, 
 which were all arranged in the l)a<;k part of the caliin, tliere being just 
 room enough to allow two beds placed lengthwise and one crosswise, in 
 l»etween the others, with curtains of sheets to seperate them. When 
 nearing the terminus of their journey, in passing through one or two vil- 
 lages, they tried in vain to purchase some chairs, so they were forced for 
 a time to use three-legged sto(tls of their own constructi(tn. It was not 
 verv long befoi'c tliey were enabled to get a supply of tlie much-needed 
 
 - 518 — 
 
articles from a man who manufactured the splint-bottomed chairs. In 
 the spring they moved to Monmouth, where they remained a year. The 
 fulhtwinif autumn Mr. .Johnson's parents, a brother and his wife, a sister 
 (tlieii a bride) and her liusliand, El»cn II. Johnson, joined them. Leaving 
 the women there all the men started off to look up some land in the Rock 
 river country, of wliich ihey had heard much praise. Arrivinur in Pal- 
 myra they found a squatter's claim bel'inj^ing -to the father of William 
 My res (more familiarly known as Pr(»phet) whicli could be bought for a 
 thousand dollars. As it was near the timber they considered it a desira- 
 ble place to settle, so purchased it, afterward payitig the government 
 price of one dollar and a quarter per acre. 
 
 It is encmeously stated in the Lee County History of 1881 that Eben 
 Johnson Ixiught this claim, wher; in reality it was a joint investment of 
 the party of live (two Masons and three Jolinsons), each taking twenty 
 acres. 
 
 The spring of 1839 the remainder of the family left Monmouth in 
 their wagons for Palmyra. With the exception of the very perilous 
 fording of Green river, in which they narrowly escaped being capsized, 
 they encountered nothing worthy of comment upon their trip. There 
 were two log caV)ins on The Myres place, in which they all lived together 
 for a time, then Williaui Johnson with his family tO(jk pussession of 
 what was known as the "jumped claim," living there a year and a half. 
 Later he bought or traded for some land near where the church now 
 stands. It was on this place my husband's eyes were first opened to the 
 light of day. 
 
 Thev had bought some cattle while at Monmouth, and Mrs. Johnson 
 supplied several custt»mers with 1)utter, which at that time was very 
 scarce and brought a liigh price, as there were but few cattle in tla- 
 country. They had been obliged to leave their business at Munmouth in 
 an unsettled condition, and when Mr. Johnson reiurned to collect some 
 accounts due him. he had to take in part payment a yoke of oxen, a large 
 wooden rocking-chair, and a standard gridiron. In those days they were 
 often forced to take whatever they could get in payment of a debt when 
 the money was not forthcoming The rocking-chair, however, was a very 
 welcome addition to their store. These articles of furniture were higlily 
 prized on account of their scarcity, and were considered so great a luxury 
 that less fortunate neighbors, in times of illness, came to ask tlie loan of 
 them. ITow strange that appears to us in theso days of ease and i)lenty. 
 Mr. Johns(tn taught school the winters of 1841 and 1844. As this has 
 been alluded toiu aiKitluM' iiapcr 1 will give it nuiy tiiis lirief uiiMitinii. 
 
 — :>n\ — 
 
The latter i);irtf)f the year 1842death reaped a rich harvest in the family, 
 four of its members being called to their rest between August and De- 
 cember. The fall of 1846 Mr. Johnson bought the farm in China town- 
 ship afterward owned by Mr. Morris. Here they lived seven years. Mrs. 
 Johnson tells me they lived a somewhat monotonous existance, the days 
 being passed in sewing, spinning, knitting and the performance of mani- 
 fold household duties, the evenings mainly devoted to reading. 
 
 Mr. Johnson was for several years an agent of the American Tract 
 Society, and in 1853 moved with his family to Chicago to take the posi- 
 tion of general agent for the northwest for that society. He was or- 
 dained a minister of the Episcopal church in 1858, and continued in this 
 good work until the tinje of his death in 187.'1 His wife is still living and 
 at the age of eighty-two is a remarkably active woman, l)oth in body and 
 mind. 
 
 GllACE EVKKKTT JOHXSOX. 
 
Gfiarfe^ fl. Beel^er. 
 
 IF we could have foreseen that the incidents in the lives of the pioneer 
 families of Palmyra would be of special interest, more pains would 
 have been taken to preserve letters and papers relating to their early 
 life in this vicinity. My account will necessarily l)e rather meaj^er and 
 unsatisfactory, as the time to gather material is so limited. 
 
 My father, Charles A. Becker, was born in Nordhausen, Prussia, Ger- 
 many, Jan. 7th, 1810— the fortified city to which Martin Luther once fled 
 to escape his enemies. My father was educated there and learned the 
 watchmaking and jewelry business under his father, John Becker, jew- 
 eler. On attaining his majority he came to America and located in 
 Reading, Penn. While there he became acquainted with my mother, 
 Miss Mary Kessler. They were married in 183.S, Two years after they 
 moved to Cleveland, Ohio, where business was very flourishing until the 
 panic of '37, when banks failed, merchants broke up, and business being 
 in a very depressed condition my parents resolved to seek their fortune 
 farther west; my father was a heavy loser by the Mormons, Jlere 1 must 
 digress a little in order to tell how they happened to make this part of 
 .the west their destination. P''ather had become acquainted with a num- 
 ber of Polish exiles who had been officers in the Polish army, were taken 
 prisoners and given the choice of being exiled to Siberia or America. 
 Naturally they chose the latter: when they landed in America the U. S. 
 government gave each of them a home of eighty acres near Rockford, 
 111. Through tliem and others (Bishop Chase among them) my parents 
 heard glowing accounts of this "paradise of the west." I would like to 
 give in detail some of the interesting events which happened on their 
 six weeks' journey in a covered wagon to Chicago, but fear it will take 
 too much space, however, one or two little incidents may not come amiss. 
 At Fort Defiance, Ind., tbey had the opportunity of seeing several hun- 
 dred Indians assembled there. At that time the Indian still had some 
 claim to the title of "noble red man,'' among them some uidgniflcent 
 
 — r.21 — 
 
specimens of Indian manhood, their limbs sliowintj to good advantage as 
 they stalked majestically around in almost an entire slate of nature. 
 Then as our travelers journeyed through the Maumee swamps, lost their 
 way, stopped to hunt deer, of wliich they saw a number and only suc- 
 ceeded in shooting one, after a long but in the main enjovai)le journey, 
 with various mishaps, they reached Chi(;ago, then a town of about seven 
 thousand inhabitants Some prominent business men tried to induce 
 my father to locate there, as there was a very good opening for a watch- 
 maker, and offered him several lots for two hundred dollars a lot on 
 Clark street, one of the main thoroughfares iti Chicago. Seeing that he 
 was determined to push on they advised him to go to Dixon instead of 
 Rockford, as he had intended, as at the former place there was no watch- 
 maker and the land much more desirable, which he accordingly did, as it 
 was his idea to take up some land as well as follow his business. The 
 morning following his arrival in Dixon— having moved into thestorejust 
 vacated by Mr. Howman on Water street, the business street of Dixon at 
 that time — he had hardly put up his sign l)efore people began to tlock in, 
 when he did a brisk business in repairing and selling clocks, watches and 
 jewelry. He had brought a large supply of goods along and had no 
 trouble in disposing of it. People came from thirty and forty miles 
 to get work done, and friendships formed at that lime have lasted to the 
 present day; at that time all wilhiti a radius of twelve and fifteen miles 
 were considered neiglibors. 
 
 My parents had pictured to tliemselves just the kind of place they 
 would like If) settle on and make their hom(^: after having looked around 
 for some time in vain they t)y accident iieard of the place on which my 
 mother still lives, six miles west of Dixon. On her tlrsl glimpse of the 
 place she said, "This shall lie my liome." and has never had leason to be 
 dissatisfied with her choice, albeit ai that time it had only its beautiful 
 situation overlooking the river and fertile gntund to recommend it, with 
 the exception of a small log house with a solitary cat for an occupant, 
 there were no imiirovements on the place— if one can call a most lone- 
 some cat an impntvpuient- and yet in a manner it was, as it gave them a 
 very warm welcome and at once made the place seem like home. My 
 father bought the claim of Mr. Lunl, a nephew of Mrs. Sigourney the 
 poetess. They moved out as soon as the necesary arrangements were 
 made, but for two years my father still kept his business in Dixon. At 
 the end of that time when he spoke of remmir:g entirely to liis farm 
 Father Dixon made him a very generous offer: he wanted to make my 
 father a present (»f a lot if he would (tiily build on it and stay tlieie. lie 
 
(lid not avail himself of the kind offer, hovi'ever, as he thought his liealth 
 was better on the farm. My parents enjoyed their home very much after 
 being unsettled for so long, never tiring of rambling along the shores of 
 the ever beautiful Rock river— especially so then, as its waters were so 
 crystal clear and the scenery along its banks so varied and charming. 
 From the house one could command an extensive view of tlie l)eautiful 
 stream, dotted here and there with well wooded islands. On tJie rise 
 whereon stood the house were many very large and noble oak trees, which 
 much to my regret were mostly cut down in those early years, being so 
 convenient for firewood. They did not stop to think that such magnitl- 
 cerit oaks could not be replaced in their lifetime. lUit to proceed. They 
 l)ut up a log addition and were soon settled in their very comfortable 
 though unpretending abode Had it not been for my father's Viusiriess it 
 would have been a much more serious affair, making ends meet; as it 
 was, they were in very straightened circumstances, there being almost no 
 money to be had. My parents understanding very little of farming did 
 not immediately make it a success, although the soil needed very little 
 encouragement to produce the most astonishing results; immense crops 
 were raised with very little labor. It was in truth a genuine paradise in 
 almost every respect. The greatest drawback was the distance to market 
 and the lack of .schools— which latter as the years rolled by troubled my 
 parents nt-t a little. 
 
 One can imagine there were very few luxuries in those times, but they 
 never (as do the people in the far west now) had to suffer for food— they 
 had that in abundance, game of all kinds was plenty. 1 have often heard 
 my mother tell— as an instance of the ease with which game was secured 
 — how my father went out to a small grove just east of the house in the 
 morning before starting for town and shot eighteen prairie chickens, the 
 ignorant birds merely Hying from tree to tree to escape him. The poor 
 things, alas! have since learned greater caution, and it would take more 
 than one morning's work to secure much less than half that numtxT. A 
 lieautiful and now iuipossible sight was seeing the most graceful of all 
 wild creatures, the deer, come bounding down acro.ss the prairie to dritik 
 at the river, and the ease with which they cleared the high rail fences 
 used in those days. Even as late as '53 and later deer still inhabited the 
 woods a mile from their place. My mother has told us how amused she 
 was one day at her .son Charlie, then a boy of about sixteen years, and a 
 young Ciorman by the name of Roehma, who was staying here at the 
 time. Mr. Roehma went out hunting one morning and came back after 
 a few hours proudly displaying a deer as the result <>f his gooil maiks- 
 
 — :,-2:i — 
 
manship. Brother Charlie said very Unconcernedly, "1 am ^joinp to get 
 one also,"' and started out. lie had Iteen y^one )nitii short time when he 
 retiiined triiiiiii)hantiy carrying the deer he had shot. Of course no one 
 liad thouy;lit lie would get one. 
 
 Within my recollection small bands (tf Indians still roamed through 
 the country and I well remember how frightened we children were one 
 time when a dozen or so Indians, men. women and children came up from 
 the river to (»ur home (m a begging expedition. The young Indians of 
 about ten years of age carried J)o\vs and arrows: they asked if they miglit 
 shoot a chicken or two. On being given permission they soon knocked 
 over several. ))eing very expert with their primitive weapons. These 
 bands of Indians were harmless excepting for their thieving propensi- 
 ties. We still titid many perfect specimens of their handicraft, one of 
 my nephews tlnding a very tine sharp stone hatcliet such as I have never 
 seen in any collection of Indian relics. 
 
 In those first years the lack of certain things was sadly felt. One time 
 when my parents felt the need of coffee particularly and had for some 
 time been without, they received a most acceptable present of a large 
 packageof coffee from one of their nearest neighbors, one of the mem- 
 bers of whose family had been t-f) New Orleans and Ijrought back a ftfty- 
 pound sack of the precious stimulant, which they very generously shared 
 with their neighbors. Such open handed generosity was proverbial 
 among the early settlers, each and all sharing in a most liberal manner. 
 Some Kentuckians who were living here when my parents came, tjrought 
 venison and other things a number of times, and would have felt insulted 
 luid they been offered pyy. Althougli Dixon and vicinity had rather a 
 hard name at that time, on account (tf horse thieves and other desperate 
 cliaracters, there was no petty thieving done, doors were left unlocked 
 and clothes hangifig out over night with perfect safety, the floating pop- 
 ulation ))eing intent on larger game, and would have scorned to steal 
 trifles. The people who came to take up land and settle were all of the 
 most respectalile class and a great many of them cultivated and refined. 
 
 In 18."i."iniy father, whose health began to fail, made a visit home to 
 Germany. He remained a short time in New York before taking passage 
 for his jf)urney across the ocean, witli relatives of my mother, John Roeb- 
 ling, the engineer that built the suspension bridge across the Niagara 
 river and afterward the famous Brooklyn suspension bridge. The Roeb- 
 ling family and other relatives showed my father every attention and 
 made his visit with them very enjoyable. After being away five months 
 he returned home and commenced the erection of a stone home just west 
 
 — 524 - 
 
of the lof^' house. I liuvc for<,'()LLcri lo iiietitioii LhaL he spctiL three 
 winters previous to tills time in Cliicayo, worlvinj; at liis business of 
 watchiiialviiig. Chiea},'o had yrown so rapidly and lie was offered such 
 inducements to no into business there, that heeiiibraced the opportunity 
 of niakinj^ more money than he could in this vicinity, and which he 
 greatly needed, as he had a yrowing family to support, and the farm did 
 not bring in a very large income, there being very little sale for farm 
 produce: butter and eggs were a drug on the market, one egg in the 
 winter of "!>'5 in Dixon bringing more than a dozen in those days, as my 
 mother frequently sold eggs for two cents a dozen, or at that rate, as she 
 took thread in payment. My mother and aunt had some experiences 
 that will never have their counterpart again, it is to be hoped. My father 
 at one time having quite a siege with the fevei and ague, which was 
 very prevalent at that time; the supply of wheat ran out, conse(iueiitly 
 bread was an absent quality, and at last my mother and her sister becom- 
 ing desperate attempted to thresh some unbeknown to my father. The 
 threshing in those primii.ive times was done ijy means of horses treading 
 it out. They worked hard all day and succeeded in getting seven bush- 
 els, which on the following day they took to Wilson's mill, fourteen miles 
 distant, on Buffalo cnjek. My father was much distressed when be 
 learned how they had worked, but was powerless to remedy it, and they 
 all enjoyed the bread that was very literally "'earned by the sweat of the 
 brow. They moved into the new h(;use in the fall of T)4. My father 
 went out of the business of watch making then and devoted the time — 
 when he felt well enough— to gardening, which he greativ enjoyed and 
 was very successful with, the market begun to improve and pears sold 
 readily for two dollars a Itushel and currants at four dollars a bushel, the 
 size and amount of (ruit would be unbelievable in these days, bushels of 
 immense and luscious peaches went to waste, strange as it may appear, 
 they not selling as well as did currants and apples, probably because more 
 people raised them. As time went on my father's health failed rapidly, 
 he having injured his knee, bone consumption set in. lie suffered great 
 agony at times. Having heard of a renowned physician in Chicago— Vol- 
 enta by tiame— a Hungarian, he went to that city and stayed several 
 months, but the doctor gave him no hope. They formed a warm friend- 
 ship, and Dr. V'olenta came to Dixon lo see my father, more as a friend 
 than physician, and it did him ruucli good to see him. The neighl>ors — 
 always kind— and during my father's illness douldy so— came in many 
 times to help wile away the time: and especially were they incbted to 
 one, William Graham, for making many an otherwise weary hour pass 
 
pk-a.s;u)lly, he had such a sLorenf atuusitii,' anecduLcs U) rel.ite and ]iad 
 traveled quite extensively, so it vves a never failin^f pleasure to sec him. 
 And Dr. Everett, dear to ail the hearts in the coruniunity, came to ciieer 
 my parents in their trouble, his very presence brought healing' to mind as 
 well as l)ody. In ?)!) my father was relieved I'rdin his sulTerin^i, and my 
 mother was left to care for a larj^^e family. She has told us many times of 
 the unfailing kindness of neit,'hbors and friends in helping her. The dif- 
 ferent merchants in I)ixon also, never hurried her for payments that she 
 found hard t(t meet, they favored her in many ways and were unfailingly 
 kind and considerate in their dealings with her. Time has dealt very 
 gently with her and she has lived lo a good old age and takes much 
 pleasure in recalling old times. She never became wealthy, but has a 
 good, comfortable home, free from encumberance, and her children and 
 friends hope to have her with them many years yet. Thus ends my, at 
 best, very incomplete occount of my parents' early life in Palmyra. 
 
 Pauline Beckek. 
 o 
 

JSowlifi D1X013. 
 
 THE earliest permanent settler of the present township was Joseph 
 Cartwrifjht, wiio cHine in IS.'JS. I knew the njan well, but knew 
 little of his family till after his death in IS.'W. His wife and son, 
 Richard, went to Dixon in an early day, and are now livinj,' in Iowa, 1 
 understand. 
 
 Before that, in 1836. a yonri}^ man staked out a claim fctr himself near 
 the three mile branch on the old Chica<jo road about where Mr. Yctung 
 now lives. 8oon after Uncle Peter and Aunt LJhoda McKenney, throuith 
 some misunderstanding probably, jumped iiis claim, built on it a small 
 shanty and set up housekeeping. 
 
 Tne young man made compiaitit to the "Claim Society'" (organized for 
 the protection of the settlers) and the members at once rallied to restore 
 him to his rights. They found Uncle Peter peacefully smoking his pipe 
 in the shade of the cabi-n, and Aunt Rhocla getting dinner. Two of them, 
 to induce Uncle Peter to give peaceable possession, led him gently but 
 firmly over the boundary line of the claim, he calling all the time to his 
 wife "Keep possession, Rhoda! keep possession! They can't get us out 
 if you keep possession!" 
 
 But in spite of his good advice Ihe shanty was loaded on a wagon, 
 good Aunt Rhoda given a seat, and the entire establishment moved otT 
 the claim to a spot where it is to be hoped they were alilc to "keep pos- 
 session." 
 
 The second permanent settler was Charles Edson, who came in IS'lii 
 with his wife and family. There were five sons and three daughters, 
 some of whom were born here and some in Pennsylvania. 
 
 They were a remarkably intellectual and interesting family. c()ml)iri- 
 ing graces of mind and heart with a kindness and benevolence that 
 reached and touched all that came within tlieir iiiHuence. Mrs. Edson 
 was of that cheerful mirthful disposition that attracted the grave as 
 well as the gay while her lovely character bound in the ties ctf a warm es- 
 
 — 529 - 
 
teem all who were tluis attracted. A siii^'le reference will show her 
 ready wit. 
 
 I renietuher that after slic lost hei' teeth her chin inclined a little to- 
 ward her nose, which seemed to appreciate the kindnes.s in seeking a 
 meetinpr, and 1 said to her, jokinglj', "Your nose and chin will have a 
 meeting some day." "Indeed," said she quickly, "I am not certain but 
 they will, many words have already passed between them." 
 
 Mrs. Edson was left a widow before her children v^ere fully grown, but 
 their training was Ijegun aright and it was her pride to say in her old age 
 that "not (»ne of tliem ever caused her a moment's sliame or pain l>y any 
 wrongdoing." They were all worthy men and women, noble in nature, 
 honored by their fellow citizens and beloved by those who knew them 
 best. To the day ot lier death in advanced age they showed the tend(M- 
 est solicitude for their mother, and this slight tribute to her inestimable 
 worth will find an echo in their hearts, as well as in many others. 
 
 The oldest daughter, Harriet, was nuirried to Otis Eddy, Init was soon 
 bereft of her husband and infant daughter. She became a very "tower 
 of strength" to all the family thereafter, and is to this day an ideal 
 woman — practical, unostentatious, but noble in every sense. She went 
 with her brothers across the plains to California when tlie gold fever 
 l)roke out. Keturning, after a few years, she again accompanied them to 
 Pike's Peak on a summer trif) made in the same way. When a younger 
 brother lay at the point of death in a southern hospital during the war 
 it was Harriet wlui went to hin'i. cared foi' him, 'anfi brouglit him home. 
 
 The family went to California in tlu' early '(iO's and have; prospered 
 there, as they well deserve, but with chara'-teristic modesty they refuse 
 to have the little town on a part of tlieir property (*alled "Edson," but 
 instead have named it- "(Ja/.elle." It lies at tlie foot of Mt;. Shasta in 
 Northern California, and it is a noteworthy fact that Mrs. Eddy was the 
 first woman who ever ascended this beautiful i)eak. Slie made the ascent 
 al)out 1S."')4, and teii years later repeated the feat in comi)any with her 
 l)rothers and youngest sister, Libbie. 
 
 The other sister, Lucy, is well rememl)ered l)y tne earlier settleis of 
 Dixon and vicinity as a talented musician, in addition to tlie same noble 
 traits which characterized the rest of the family. Though a sufferer 
 from a fracture of the hip joint which made a crutch necessary from 
 childhood, she was as ready and cheerful as any, and no more delightful 
 evenings were ever spent by the young ))eople (jf that time than when 
 they gathered at "the Edson's." 
 
 They built the house and barn now owned Ijy the writer— one of the 
 
 — 530 — 
 
few of the original farm homes left on the prairie. They afterward 
 removed to the place near the "Brick Schof)l House," which is often 
 spolcen of by their name. Their house is still standing, though no longer 
 used as a dwelling. 
 
 Here Mr. Edson died, and-here the sweet youngest daughter, Liljbie, 
 was born. As soon as their tirst home was inhabitable Mrs. Edson gave 
 up her largest room for a school. This was the first in the vicinity, and 
 very probably the best in the county. The teacher was a Miss Uobinsun, 
 later a preceptress in ^It. Morris Seminary. She married Judge Fuller 
 of Ogle county, atui after liis death liownum iiacon. a nephew of Mrs. 
 .1 OS. Crawford. She is the mother of Fratdv I'.acon, who nunried Ki/.zie 
 Kennedy — well known in Dixon. 
 
 Among the scht)lars beside Mrs. Edso'n's cliildreii were Mary Augusta 
 Gardner, now Mrs. Ilawley: William D'Wolf, the gi-nial judge of later 
 years: his brother Erastus: Wellington Davis, and llanruih Casterline, 
 afterward his wife. 
 
 The superior schools in tluit district at a very early day wore largely 
 due to the inlluence of the Edson family, some of whom were its best 
 teachers. Mr. Edson helped to build the tirst M. E. clHirch (if Dixon, of 
 which his family were ail devoted an^l useful members. 
 
 Tlie next family which catne here to make a home was that of 
 James Campbell with his wife and two excellent, amiable daughters, 
 Opliclia, now the wife of Dr. Todd, of Worcester, Ohio, and Julia, wlu) 
 married Eugene Pinckney and died some years since. Mrs. Caujpbell 
 was left a widow at an early age, and became the wife of Isaac Board- 
 man and was well known and highly esteemed by the people .of Dixon 
 and vicinity. 
 
 Reuben Trobridge settled near the present town of Eldena, or rather 
 his father did, and he afterward brought his pretty, young wife to the 
 old liomestead, where they reared a pleasant family. "Grandpa" Tro- 
 bridge and his large family of bo}s have done much to add to the wealth 
 and induence of Lee county:several of them— notably our present sub- 
 ject, Reuben— have been devoted workers in the interest of our Sunday 
 schools. 
 
 Iliram and Herman Mead came soon after, families uf worth, whose 
 children grew up to be useful, capable citizens and worthy me.ubcrs of 
 society. Their brother. Alon/.o Mead, settled in China township, but 
 soon came to Dixon, where he and his family are well known, and his 
 sons, J, C. and W. II. still reside. 
 
 Somewliat in contrast to these was a man by the name of Ilammill, 
 
 — ;j;U — 
 
who brought with his fn.ruily from the poor house of ButTalo, "N. Y. The 
 child was so shamefully treated that N. G. 11. Morrill, the county poor 
 master, (for, remember, this was long before there were many town or- 
 ganizations, there being but four or five voting precincts in the county, 
 not more than 150 voters), took her to his home in Dixon. Her pitiable 
 condition exclLL'd the sympathy of the people at once. Her hair was 
 dirty and matted, face unwashed, and what do you think she was cl(»tlied 
 in? It was an old coffee sack with the corners cut off for arm holes, and 
 a hole in the center of the bottom for her head, no underclothing, shoes 
 or stockings. 
 
 Hammill prosecuted Mr. ^Morrill Hir kidnapping the child. When the 
 case was called he was ready with his lawyer, whom many old settlers 
 remember, McKay by name. When they adjourned for dinner they went 
 to the old "Western Hotel." Just as they were through dinner some 
 men stepped up to Hammill with a kettle of hot tar, which they poured 
 over his head and shoulders, the streams running down over his whole 
 body; another shook over him a bag of feathers, and then they rolled him 
 inthesand of the street. I shall never forget how he looked, lying 
 there with closed eyes— I thought he was dead— but in a moment he 
 opened one eye then the other, and seeing the men busy elsewhere, rolled 
 over and springing to his feet ran to some bushes near, then for home, 
 he was a laughable sight! On the principle that the 'partaker is as bad 
 as the thief" the men felt that his attorney deserved similar treatment 
 and attempted to administer it, but the tar was too cold to run easily or 
 to hold the feathers. He slmwed fight and came near killing one of the 
 boys. The muzzle of his gun was knocked up l»y a bystander just in 
 time. The kidnapping suit ended there, anfl so 1 Lbiuk, did tlie career 
 of Mr. McKay in Dixon. 
 
 In an early day provisions, piirk and tlour were mostly brougiit fiom 
 the southern pcjrtion of the state, also from Kentucky, Indiana and St. 
 Louis, in large wagons with l)roa(l tires, high wheels and very high, long 
 lioxes, often 20 or 22 feet long. Tiiey made a track over a half wider than 
 our common wag(jns. Drawn by three or four teams of liorses or f»nir to 
 eight yokes of oxen, and carrying from sixty or eiglity liuiulrcd i)ounds. 
 they well deservefl the nameof '-Frairie. Schooners." They went in gangs 
 of six or eight wagons, with several men on horseback to pilot them and 
 help to avoid the sloughs. They sold their Itacon at from 2.") to .'JOcls. per 
 pound, flour fiom 2."> to .Tj dollars per barrel. 
 
 A few years later, while the men were working at the abandoned track 
 still discernible in places, of the Illinois Central railrtiad, some such 
 
 — 532 — 
 
traders would •^tart Inmi the southern part of the state, with hirgc droves 
 of ho[,fs, carrying with tlieiii all the facilities for butchering?— kettles for 
 lieating water, tubs for scalding, etc. When tliey came to a gang of men 
 or to a village, they would sell, kill and jirepare the meat for their cus- 
 toiiicrs. They cariied their own corn, and gathered wood at the groves 
 as thev traveled, did their own cooking and were very indei)endent. They 
 lived chielly on fried pork, cctfTee and ''hoe cake," made of corn meal wet 
 with water and baked on a board l)eforc the tire. 
 
 It is said that when the prop for the board failed to do its duty, they 
 caste lots or played •"high, low, jack," to sec who should lie on his back 
 and prop the l)oaril with his feet. 
 
 It would l)e a pleasure to add more particulars in regard to the early 
 history of the pioneers of South Dixon, but as I cannot do so I trust what 
 1 havi> already given may add a little interest to your book. 
 
 Ahuam 1{i;oavn. 
 
Wof j" RvJniinQ ^'^^^Z ^ ^^i"S ^%^- 
 
 WHEN the prairies were almost ])are — but tew liouses, trees and 
 fences and no railroads to preveni^ a full sweep of the country — 
 one of the favorite sports enjoyed by youns^ and old fifty years 
 ago was hunting wolves. 
 
 A party was first chosen to select an elevated point of land on whfch 
 to place a higli pole. A certain day was agreed upon on which to havb a 
 general wolf hunt, and the men for miles around were notitied. 
 
 They came from Inlet Grove, Franl<l!n Grove, Grand Detour, Tlic 
 Bend, Dixon, Sterling, "Dad Joe's" Grove and East Grove atid Palestine. 
 
 Early in the A. M. the hunters, with their guns and dogs, some on 
 horseback and others on foot, start for tlie pole. Often on their way 
 the} would start up deer and game of all liinds, Ivill it and get 11 when 
 they returned home at night. They all keep traveling toward the polo, 
 making tlie ring smaller and smaller and the wolves more and mmc 
 frightened as tl>ey (ind themselves surrounded and they try to break 
 through the ring and escape, but as they go the hunters shoot at them 
 and dogs and men and horses try to chase fhem down. 
 
 Finally when the men are within about a mile of the pole and all the 
 wolves either killed or escaped the day's sport sometimes ended with a 
 race to the pole. As they readied the pole they freciuently collided with 
 such force as to knock each other down. 
 
 1 remember at one bunt two horses ran against each other and one 
 fell and rolled over his rider, but he jumped up apparently not much 
 hurt. Among those whose faces were familiar at the various hunts 
 were the Hales, Doans, Bainters, Dcxtcrs, Bliss, Badgers, Leakes, Patrick 
 Nally's, Hausens, Wilsons, Gardners, and many others whom I cannot 
 now recall. 
 
 On one occasion the pole was placed on what is now tlie writer's farm, 
 then known as Harvey's Hill. 
 
 — 534 — 
 
1 rem ember how I liaroly escaped licmtj shot on Uial day. A wolC 
 broke through the circle and Wilson sliot at it, missed it and tlie iiullct 
 whi/zed itast, Itarely missing nie. 
 
 R. TkoW liKIDOK. 
 
TBe 
 
MRS DANIEL BAIRO. 
 
GBarfoU's: B. FieCa. 
 
 C CHARLOTTE I'.. FIELD was burn Feltruary 2TLli, 1811, in West 
 HnidkHoUl, Mass.: December 20tli, 18.32, married Daniel Baird of 
 VVesLboroiigh, Mass. 
 They came west in 18.% and settled in Rockwell, La Salle county, and 
 in 183!t moved to Lee county and settled on a Tartu near Palestine Grove, 
 three miles distant from what is now the village of Sublette. lie died 
 March 2»ith. ISiKi, and she March 18th, 18W. Both lie at rest un the old 
 homestead. 
 

 MRS. S. L. HATCH. 
 
Pioneer Moffier^ oj" SvvSfetfe 
 
 THIS work of coUeclinfT matter of interest to the present generation 
 concerning those brave pioneer women who between the years 1838 
 and 1846 laid the foundation for our present condition of comfort, 
 culture and morality is attended with some difficulty, as most of those 
 who took part in the activities of those years have passed into the world 
 beyond. And I the daughter of one of those mothers, born during those 
 years, have but a shadowy memory of those days. And yet from mate- 
 rial gathered from parents and friends I will tr> to prepare a chapter, 
 which, although it may lack interest to the casual reader, will at least 
 fill its niche in the "Lee County Columbian Book" as a tribute to our 
 mothers. 
 
 The county at that time I believe had not been divided into townships 
 and what is now known as Sublette was then simply the settlement of 
 Palestine Grove while our post office was at Inlet Grove, until about the 
 last of this period, when a post office was established at the house of one 
 of our neighbors. Mr. Daniel Baird, he being quite scholarly for those 
 times. 
 
 No doubt the manner of living of our mothers wasalmostthe counter- 
 part of that of the pioneers of our sister towns. The educated woman 
 turned the mill to winnow the grain which was to take its three or four 
 days' journey to Chicago, to be exchanged for a pair of boots for father 
 or a pair of shoes perhaps, for mother, some sugar, tea and coffee, calico, 
 sufficient for a dress, a paper of pins, etc , and once, perhaps, within the 
 recollection of the children, mother was so extravagant as to send for a 
 bit of silk and ribbon, with which Mrs. Ingals, our oracle of fashion, 
 was to shape a bonnet. I think however, that the styles of those days 
 were mostly taken from the latest arrival from the far away "East." 
 
 The bride passed her honey moon on a floor of mother earth, with a 
 blanket hung at the doorway to keep out the night wind, and a home- 
 made table with some other as crude pieces of furniture were placed 
 
 — 545 — 
 
against it tu l<cep out wikl bctvsts, and the ax and pitclif(irl< stood beside 
 the bed of the lonely woman at night as adefense against man and beast, 
 when her husband was away. Then there were all of those farm chores 
 to be attended to during all of those six, seven, eightand sometimes nine 
 or ten days" trip to Chicago. Six days was the shortest time, under the 
 most favoralde circumstances in which the journey could l)e made. Well 
 do i remember the anxious watching for father to come. The sixth even- 
 ing mother would occasionally say "hark children, I believe I hear the 
 sound (»f a wagon" and yet scarcely expecting it to be the one listened 
 ft)r, but the seventh evening the supper would be prepared with quite a 
 feeling of certainty that father would be there, and yet often mother 
 would sit up late anxiously watching, and no father came, and as the 
 eighth, or perhaps ninth day drew to a close mother would look at the 
 little ones with an expression which in after years we remembered, and 
 it told us plainly that she was thinking 'perhaps my children are father- 
 less," and vet mother's anxicnis face as she watched for father is not the 
 only gloomy picture of those fare IT days that many who read this through 
 glasses will find hanging on memories wall. Many a little toddler in 
 the pioneer cabin wandered about neglected and forlorn all day, while 
 mother lay in bed sick with a terrible chill and the fever which always 
 followed it, and at last sinking into a tired sleep at night, then waking 
 in the darkness of the early morning to find her babies, who had crawled 
 supperless to bed, on either side of her. 
 
 We liave never heard that the mothers in those days had occasion to 
 fight with wild beasts, but many a tale we have listened to of fighting 
 with an equally unconquerable foe — a prairie lire— which in spite of 
 every eflort would sometimes devour every kind of grain, every spear of 
 hay and the outbuildings, leaving a hungry herd of cattle with no visible 
 means of support. The wives of that period must have watched and 
 waited much of the time, for if the husband luul occasion to grind his 
 scythe the only stone in the vicinity was owned by his neighbor on the 
 "other side of the grove," where AmV)oy is at present. And if a hole 
 must be bored he probably had to go three or four miles to Mr. Ingals' to 
 borrow an auger, and if Mr. Ingals was as good a talker then as now 1 
 will warrant the dinner sp(yiled. liorrowitig saleratus, yeast cakes, etc., 
 was no trifling matter then. 
 
 If Mrs. liaird wanted to make her little girl a dress and wished for 
 Mrs. Hatch's pattern, she must put her babies in the wheel barrow and 
 wheel them a mile across the prairie, and if Mrs. Hatch wanted Mrs. 
 Baird's receipt for pickles, as she had no wheel barrow she would take her 
 
 - 546 — 
 
little ones as far as they were able to walk or she was aljle to carry them, 
 then leave them by the fence corner, charging them not to stir from that 
 spot, and to be very good children and at last telling them that she would 
 stay but a few minutes. 1 liave, however, a misty recollecLion of those 
 same children waiidtring away in grass above their heads trying to find 
 mamma. 
 
 Our houses were similar, usually the typical pioneer house of logs, 
 variedsliglitly in design. Perhaps a corner for a pantry would be par- 
 titioned with rough l)oards, and frou» tl>c corner of that to the opposite 
 wall would l)c drawn a curtain of some bright furniture calico forming a 
 cotnmodious alcove for tlie bed and the old time necessity for the child- 
 ren—the trundle-l)ed. One family had besides the living room, a sort of 
 lean-to, whicli was used for a bedroom, and it had a boniHdc door of 
 wood, instead of a curtain, and that bedroom was the envy of all the 
 little folks in the community. It seemed the height of grandness to 
 them. 
 
 Of course each year brought new arrivals from the eastern states, and 
 frequently a little stranger came to stay to gladden the mother's heart; 
 another one to love and to live for, another one to be educated, conse- 
 quently with the toiling out of doors and indoors must be mingled the 
 duties of teacher, and I must add that the progress of some of these lit- 
 tle folks compared quite favorably with that of the little ones of the 
 present time. At last, hov/ever, the great need of the community 
 seemed to be a school house. 
 
 In the year 1843 a school house of logs was erected on the south side of 
 Palestine Grove. Here for some years religious services were held, and 
 attending these services might be seeii Mrs. Jonathan Peterson with her 
 little daughters: Mrs. Sylvanus Peterson and children: Mrs. Morton, a 
 sister of the Petersons, and her little family; Mrs. Rodgers, her sister; 
 Mrs. Ingals wiih her little brother and sister, to whom she was acting 
 the mother's part; Mrs. Goodalc, a sister of Mrs. Ingals: Mrs. Dr. Adams, 
 a sister of Mr. Ingals; Mrs. Hatch with her two little girls: Mrs. l?aird 
 with her two; Mrs Hubbard with boys and girls: Mrs. John and Heze- 
 kiali McKune, with little folks: and perhaps we might see the Mrs. 
 Fessenden, who were among the early settlers. Then there were some 
 bright young ladies, sisters and cousins of the Petersons, to take part 
 in tiiat society of the long ago. During this time a few families settled 
 about Knox Grove, in the extreme eastern part of our town. Two fami- 
 lies, the Pratts and Crawfords, became permanent settlers. Those brave 
 
 — .347 — 
 
mothers have passed away, but have left their children to go in and out 
 among us as some of our best citizen s. 
 
 There were but few persons here then approaching that much 
 dreaded era in life after whicli we arc called elderly. The parents tf the 
 Peterson family, Mrs. Eells, their aunt, and Mr. and Mrs. Ephraim Ren- 
 iff, the mother and stepfather of Mr. Baird, were I think the only ones 
 whose journey of life was in the decline. 
 
 Of those who ministered to our spiritual wants the first 1 believe was 
 Elder Ileadley, who resided in or near Ottawa. He, I have no doubt, 
 was instrumental in organizing the Baptist Church, which has been 
 spiritually the alma mater of most of those who have drifted out on the 
 sea of life from Sublette. I have, too, a misty picture liefore me of one 
 Mr. Ilannum, a lay preacher, gathering with us around the family altar 
 and putting up petitions to the "Heavenly Father" for our spiritual en- 
 lightenment. Mr. Hannum lived on the old Chicago road some miles 
 west of Lee Center. The older citizens of Lee county know that it is 
 the road leading from Dixon on pa«t the home of Dr. Chas. Gardner to 
 Lee Center and still on eastward to our metropolis. These old landmarks 
 are fast being obliterated, but this one at least we will preserve in the 
 "Lee County Columbian Book." 
 
 As we, surrounded by modern conveniences and living in comparative 
 ease and luxury turn to the picture of our mother's early life, as she 
 crawled to a spring a quarter of a mile away for water to slake her fever- 
 ish thirst, wondering the while whether she would live to get back to 
 her little ones, we see nothing but sadness and glooni, yet there were 
 bright spots in their lives. 
 
 The old. folks talk of "those good old times,'" when hospitality abound- 
 ed, and everyone was a neighbor, although miles away. They frequently 
 exclianged friendly intercourse and partook of the mince pie made with 
 slightly cooked potatoes, soaked in vinegar, which took the part of the 
 missing apples, and the wild plums i)res('rved in njolasses, or the wild 
 crab apples boiled, the core taken out and served with sugar and cream 
 Then there were the cookies, with caraway seeds in them. too. We have 
 no doubt the ladies then enjoyed the little social gatherings, around a 
 quilt on the visit to the lady of the house, while the husbands assisted 
 their neighbor to erect a barn or a stack of hay, (luite as well as the 
 ladies of our time enjoy the elaborate luncheon, or the five o'clock tea. 
 
 There were, no doubt, nuiny interesting incidents in those days which 
 would be well worth recording here but they have passed beyond the ken 
 of mortals with those cherished mothers, those mothers who were then 
 
 - 548 - 
 
only taking up those burdens of life which grew heavier as the respf)n8l- 
 bility of a family to educate became more apparent, while the facilities 
 for doing it scarcely kept pace with the physical development of the chil- 
 dren. 
 
 The mother of that day was indeed a Spartan mother, and "'her 
 children rise up and call her blessed." 
 
 Harriet H. Gardner. 
 
Tfje 
 
 e: 
 
 ^ToWn^fiip oj^ ♦y lofa. 
 
Vlof 
 
 a. 
 
 WHAT is now known as Viola township was a part of Brool<lyn till 
 1S61, when the voters met at the home of Moses YanCarapcn, 
 and organized the new township. Abram VanCampen, was 
 clerk and Simeon Cole moderator; flfty-two votes wore cast. The names 
 proposed for the township were "Butler," "Elba"' and "Eldorado." At a 
 meeting of highway commissioners held a month later to lav out a divid- 
 ing road, the name of Viola was given to the township, the others having 
 been found to conflict with township names in other parts of the 
 state. 
 
 A beautiful, natural grove in the southeast corner of the township, 
 containing about 320 acres— now called "Little Melugin's Grove," in an 
 early day was known as "(Juthric's Grove," for Wm. Guthrie, the Hirst 
 settler. "Big Melugin Grove," another natufal grove, partly in Brook- 
 lyn township, one half, or more in Viola, is situtated in the southwest 
 corner, and named after another early settler, Zachariah Melugin. 
 
 The drainage is Ijy wide, deep ditches, leading toward and through 
 the Inlet swamp to Green river. The surface is rolling from two to 
 ten miles east, and the same on the south, the balance fiat. 
 
 W. Guthrie made the (Irst settlement, at the extreme south of Little 
 Melugin Grove, in 1834. Wagon roads ran anywhere to the nearest point 
 over the then vast and open prairie. 
 
 Among the first white settlers about the Grove were also Dick Allen, 
 .J. Gilmore, W. Lawton, who sold to W. Little. After these many more 
 came, among them being Evins Adrian, who was the first one married in 
 Viola, to Mrs. Marilla Smith (formerly Marilla Goodale,) in October, 
 1840, she died in 1857. 
 
 The first death of an adult was Walter Little, 'grandfather of cx- 
 shcriff Walter Little. The first birth was in the family of W. Lawton, 
 and this child died before Mr. Little. 
 
 The first school was kept in the house of M. VatiCampen, for three 
 
 — 5:)3 — 
 
terms. The first school house was built at Little Mcluj^in (Jrove. There 
 are now seven school buildings, and schools are held frotn six to nine 
 months. 
 
 The women of the township, like all pioneers, endured privations and 
 hanUhips which are unknown to us more fortunate ones of the present 
 day. Undoubtedly, though, if they w(>re here to tell their story, they 
 would relate with beaniint,^ countenances, what happy days those were. 
 Tliey knew no dilTerence in social standing, tliey were like sisters, every 
 one ready to help another in trouble, or share a pleasure. In many a 
 rude cabin or sod house there was greater content and purer happiness 
 than in the handsome, modern "residence." Wood was plenty, and 
 abundant fires made cheerful warmth and light for winier evenings. 
 Not unlike today, crops failed ami seasons were sometimes unfavoralile, 
 but there was rarely any lack of food, they were hopeful and energetic, 
 th(! dark days passed and brighter ones followed. The deer roamed at 
 will where now comfortable or handsome dwellings and broad fields of 
 grain dot the landscape. 
 
 The barking of the wolf and scream of the panther, which struck 
 terror to the hearts of timid women are replaced liy the shriek of the 
 locomotive and the cow-bell. 
 
 Only recently has the old Indian trail across the township l»een ol)lit- 
 erated. Their dusky forms have long since disappeared from our midst, 
 but children still love to gather al)out tlie grandmother's chair and hear 
 the "Indian stories" of 1,he early days. 
 
 Mtnntk Coni!. 
 
Tfie 
 
Wiffow Greei^ Tow/ujsh^o. 
 
 THE historian who writes up the reminiscences of Lee county and 
 leaves out the township of Willow Creek is not tjoin^f to get credit 
 for doing a tirst-class job. so I will come to the rescue and tell 
 something aV)out this beautiful prairie and woodhmd section — this north- 
 east corner of Lee county. In the first place I will describe the country 
 by saying there are four groves in the township. Allen's Grove is the 
 largest, the next in size is Smith's Grove, and then there are the Twin 
 Groves— they derived their names from their location, standing as they 
 do side by side, one is a little larger than the other, but they are twins. 
 
 Allen's Grove took its name from the first man who settled there, and 
 likewise Smith's Grove was named after one of the numerous Smith fam- 
 ily, who came west long years ago and became a settler at the grove. 
 Willow creek takes its source in Wyoming township and flows north in a 
 circular course, passing through Twin Groves. Native Willows found 
 grt)vving upon the banks of this creek suggested a name for it, and when 
 the township was organized people named it after the creek that ran 
 through it. The first road tliat ran through this township was the In- 
 dian trail that ran from Ottawa north to the hunting grounds in Wis- 
 consin. The Indians were once paid their annuities l)y the government 
 at this place. 
 
 F. A. Parker, attorney-at-Iaw living in Pawpa.v. said his great-grand- 
 father was living at Wedrun some time after tlie massacre at Fort Dear 
 born (he could not give the date), and his son, Mr. Parker's grandfather, 
 lived a few miles nearer to Ottawa. One Jay ShabV)ona came riding liis 
 pony at great speed and warmed them that the Indians were liable to 
 kill them. He waved his tomahawk above his head three times and 
 said to them they must "pack-a-chee!" He was terribly in earnest and 
 he warned all the white people in that vicinity, and they were not slow 
 to act upon his advice. There l)eing Indians ijetween there and Ottawa 
 they could not go to the fort for protection, nor even get word to the old 
 
 — 5oT — 
 
man's son, luit they hastily packed up their hcddiii^' and sonic provisions 
 and loaded it on the horses" backs; and his grandfather carried Mr. Par- 
 ker's mother from there to Allen's Grove in his arms. She was about five 
 years old at that time. And his grandmother, who has told liim the 
 story, said she walked by his sl<lc and carried all she coukl of their cloth- 
 ing. Quite a number of families joined them wno had been warned as 
 they were. Tlicy started after dark and got to Allen's Grove a little 
 after sunrise— walking all night and leading the liorses: they followed 
 the Indian trail, as that was the only road. They corraled their horses 
 around in the timber and banded together to protect tliemselves if need 
 be, l)Ut they were undisturbed by Indians and returned home in a few 
 days. Mr. I'arker's grandfather's name was Edward Saunders and he 
 belonged to the United States regular army. lie assisted in l)uildirig old 
 P\»rt Dearborn, in fact superintended building it, being the only carpen- 
 ter among the company of men that vvas stationed there in that very 
 early day. 
 
 The earliest settlers in Willow Creek township took up tlieir alxides 
 at the groves. Peter Gunzalus, a i^'renchman from Ducliess County, New 
 York, came to Allen's Grove in the fall of 18:}() and made a claim of the 
 Shandy farm, and after staying two years lie sold his claim to Richard 
 Allen. This was the first farm that was improved and had a comforta- 
 ble house built on it in the township. In 18:57 a family of Smith's came 
 to this township from Argyleshire, Scotland. The father's name was 
 John Smith. lie settled near Allen's Grove and built his cabin. The 
 claim he bought of Armour included a grove which has since been called 
 Smith's Grove. His son, David Smith, st^ill lives close by the spot where 
 his father's log cabin was built. John Smith's (;a])in was the second 
 house built in the township and it was the first one that burned down. 
 Its roof was made of the long prairie grass that had been mowed down 
 and dried and fixed to shed water, but the fire caught in the dry hay and 
 soon l)urned down in the cold December: the family lost most of their 
 clothing and bedding and some valuable books. A new house was soon 
 built near where the first one stood. Death entered the household soon 
 after they came to the Grove, and John, the second son, was the victim. 
 This was tlie first death in the township. Ilis grave may be seen in tlic 
 family burying ground. John Colvill came from Scotland with the 
 Smith's and made his home with them for a time. Robert Smith, now 
 living at Dixon, is a brother of David Smith. 
 
 The first settler at Allen's Grove kept a sort of tavern where food and 
 shelter could be had. After Allen left the Grove a man by the name of 
 
 — 558 — 
 
I'rice Untk Hit- cliiiiii. Israel Shandy cauie in l.s44 and liouyliL the claim 
 of rrice and it is his hurue yet in his old ai-'c. In 1839 Ileratio G. Ilaw- 
 k'ttcanic from Dixon and settled at Allen's Grove. lie had lived at 
 Dixon two years: he lived at Allen'sGrove until hedied ata uood old a^^e. 
 ilissori, James Ilawlett, is still living on the old farm at the (Jrove. 
 William Moore was the tirst settler at Twin Groves. James Thompson 
 and Levi Lathrop came together in 1842 and bought Moore's claim in 
 partnership. They paid $'M) for the timber claim. Thompson bought 
 out Lathrop's claim. Robert Blair, a brother-in-law to Mrs. Thompson, 
 bought a claim to part of the north grove: His son, Robert Blair, was 
 the tirst white child born at Twin Grove in 1846; at that time and for 
 three years their nearest neighl)ors were at Malugen's Grove. Tliesc 
 earliest settlers lived in log cabins and endured luany privations. 
 
 George Wise, Isaac Gardner, Mark R. Averill and Jacob B. Fisher all 
 lived for a time at Twin Grove. In 1846 Cuiumings Noe came to the 
 Grove. He lived fur a number uf years on land at the south grove. 
 
 Shabbona and his tribe used to go through the country and they often 
 visited the early settlers. The first school in the township was taught 
 by ^liss Martha Vandevcnter, sister to Christopher Vandeventer. The 
 school was held in one of Israel Shandy's log houses. Mr. Shandy used to 
 keep tavern at that time. A Miss Nettleton and a Miss Brace kept 
 school in the same place afterward. The first school ever taught at Twin 
 Groves was in a log cabin in James Thompson's dooryard. The teacher 
 was a widow Stubljs. 
 

Tf^e GiiT^^ore. FsviTJif/. 
 
 NEAR the close of a cold, rainy clay, on the 4th of June, 1835, on the 
 hill about half way between Paw Paw and ^Iclugin's Grove in this 
 (Lee) county, a team of two horses, facing west, became exhausted 
 and refused to go any further. In the wagon were Mrs. John Gilmore 
 and five children, the eldest being nine years old, and beside the team 
 wallced the husband and father, and a friend, Mr. William Guthrie; rain 
 was falling steadily, night wa& approaching, and the only house between 
 them and Dixon's Ferry, was that of Zachariah 'Melugin, three miles 
 away. A consultation was held and Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore and the child- 
 ren started on foot in an endeavor to reach the shelter of Mr. Melugin's 
 house, which they did, late at night, drenched with the rain and 
 thoroughly exhausted. Mr. Guthrie remained with the team, and help 
 being sent to him they were brought in the next day — thus came the 
 second family in all that empty waste, now so tilled with population, 
 wealth, and all that goes.to make up the sum of a prosperous and rcttned 
 society. Guthrie had passed over this country as a soldier in the Black 
 Hawk war, and it was owing to his enthusiastic description that this 
 beautiful spot was chosen for their future home. 
 
 They were true pioneers, and within a few days a claim was selected, 
 the walls of a log cabin twelve feet square and seven feet high were 
 erected and covered with shakes, held in place bv "weight poles,"' and 
 the family moved in. No door, window, chimney or floor, but it was the 
 foundati')n of a happy, prosperous home, still lovingly remembered in all 
 thai vicinity. A puncheon floor was soon added, a "stick chimney" and 
 a shake door, and soon the little cahin was made hospitable and comfort- 
 able, but when it was finished not a board or nail or a pane of glass had 
 been used in its construction. In this cabin, on the 8th day of Novem- 
 ber, 1835, was born to Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore. a son, W. W. Gilmore, still 
 living, a retired merchant in Compton, near the original home. Soon 
 after this event, tinding that work (to be paid for in provisions) could bo 
 
 — 563 — 
 
had at Ross' Grove, twenty miles from home, Mr. Gilmore left his 
 family, and accompanied by his friend Guthrie, went to Ross' Grove and 
 worked most of the winter. They came home on Saturday night on foot, 
 often carrying a part of their week's wages on their shoulders, and 
 walked back to their work on Monday. The Indians had not yet been 
 removed, and day and night they swarmed around the little cabin beg- 
 ging, and often impudently demanding food, which, from her scanty 
 store, Mrs. Gilmore was unable to supply. She has often said that she 
 suffered more from fear of the Indians that winter, than from all other 
 causes combined. 
 
 Sometime in the fall of that year Mr. A. V. Christeance and wife had 
 erected a cabin about a mile distant and were living in it. About Christ- 
 mas there came on one of those terrible sleet storms, still remembered by 
 all old settlers, and the ground was soon covered with one continued 
 glare of ice. About midnight the family were awakened to find the 
 cabin filled with stitling smoke. The stick chimney had taken fire and 
 the house was in great danger. Mrs. Gilmore being alone with her 
 children, hastily dressed herself and tried to put out the fire. The spring 
 of water was some twenty rods away and everything so covered with ice 
 that she could walk only in her stocking feet, and in this way went sev- 
 eral times to the spring and brought water, but did not gain on the fire. 
 In this emergency she started her nine-year old boy (now A. P. Gilmore, 
 of Compton,) after help. Mr. Christeance, the nearest neighbor, was a 
 mile away, through the woods with only a dim path, which was easy 
 enough to follow in daylight, but in a dark and bitterly cold and stormy 
 night it was doubtful if the boy could find the way, or endure the cola if 
 he did. But it was the only chance, and whistling for his faithful dog 
 he started. lie has often spoken of that midnight tramp as one of the 
 most perilous experiences of his life. But he succeeded and returned 
 with help, and by their united efforts the house was saved, though great 
 ly damaged.. 
 
 Game was plenty, but amunition was scare. During the first winter 
 a party of hunters camped near the grove and killed a great many deer, 
 which they hung on the trees until they should get a wagon load. One 
 day Mrs. Guthrie, in passing through the grove, came across a large buck 
 hung up, and after considering the matter a little, she shouldered it and 
 carried it home. She used to say that she always felt a little guilty in 
 appropriating the venison, but it seemed to be a matter of necessity. 
 After they became prosperous and well off she used to say that she would 
 like to see that hunter and pay him for the deer. J. K. Robinson taught 
 
 — 564 — 
 
the first school in 1837, with eight pupils. Settlers now began to come in 
 and the county filled up quite fast. O. P. Johnson located at the west 
 end of the grove and opened a tavern, which many of theuld settlers will 
 still remember. We were boys and girls then— our heads are white now. 
 The first death remembered, was a Mr. Little, a Scotchman, the first one 
 to be buried in the little cemetery. The first marriage in the eastern part 
 of Lee county (it was Ogle ceunty then) was that of J. K. Robinson and 
 Polly Melugin, which took place in 1836. 
 
 William Guthrie located a claim in 1835 at what was afterwards 
 known as Guthrie's Grove, near his friend Gilmore, and in the fall of 
 1836 was married to Miss Ross, at Ross' Grove on Indian Creek, a distance 
 of twenty miles. Transportation in those days was a matter of serious 
 difiiculty, but the wedding was an event that must be duly celebrated. 
 So Mr. Gilmore joked his best pair of oxen to the watjon, took his wife 
 and the younger children, two lady friends and the groom, and by mak- 
 ing an early start accomplished the journey in a day. The wedding was 
 celebrated with real new country hilarity, and the bride and groom re- 
 turned to the cabin which he had prepared. Mrs. Guthrie used to say 
 that they commenced housekeeping with her wedding outfit— a straw 
 tick, a tea kettle and a frying pan. The struggle for life was sharp, and 
 sometimes the larder was nearly empty, but when spring came and the 
 fiowers bloomed the hardships of the winter were soon forgotten. 
 
 Sometime in the summer of 18.36, on a trip to Troy Grove after pro- 
 visions. Mr. Gilmore come across a Methodist preacher, (it is thought 
 that his name was Lummery) and invited him to come to Mclugin's 
 Grove and hold meetings, and an appointment was made for the next 
 round of the circuit which would be in six weeks. At the appointed time 
 the preacher came and held service in the little Gilmore home, at which 
 every man. woman and child in the settlement was present, and room to 
 spare. A church was organized and a class formed, which has never 
 ceased to exist to this day. Then the seeds were planted which in due 
 time have produced the ijeauties of culture and religion which we enjoy. 
 
 Reuecca Gilmoue Fkost. 
 o 
 
k'-;> 
 
 SHABBONA. 
 
5)£av:/(3er2e\. 
 
 WHO was Shaubcna— or Shabbona— as 1 have always been accus- 
 tomed to write and speak the name? He was an Indian, and a 
 good Indian, too. lie was born in the year 1773 at an Indian 
 village on the Kankakee river, now in Will county. His father was of 
 the Ottawa tribe and came from Michigan with Pontiac during the year 
 17GG, being one of the small band of followers who fled from their coun- 
 try after the defeat of that great chief. He was a war chief also, and 
 from a speech of his that has been preserved by tradition he is judged to 
 have been a person of more than ordinary ability. 
 
 h While Shabbona was an infant or a little pappoose his parents went 
 with him to Canada and stopped at an Indian village twenty miles east 
 of Detroit. They lived there till Shabbona was seven years old, when 
 they returned to their old home on the Kankakee river, and he lived 
 there until he was a man grown, when he married a daughter of a Potta- 
 watomie chief, named Spotka, who had a village on the Illinois a short 
 distance above the mouih of Fox river. At the death of this chief, 
 which occurred a few years afterwards, Shabbona succeeded him as head 
 chief of the band. Soon after this the band left the Illinois river on ac- 
 count of sickness, and they took up their abode in a lovely grove about 
 thirty miles north of their former home. This grove is situated in De- 
 Kalb county and the band of Indians was found there by the early white 
 settlers. The grove still bears the name of the kind old chief who did so 
 much for the white people in the early pioneer days. Shabbona and his 
 band lived in this grove— that is situated at the head of P.ig Indian creek 
 —nearly fifty years. His flrst wife, Spotka, is buried there and two of 
 his children are buried beside her. A huge stone marks the spot— or did 
 in days gone by— and a fence of poles surrounds the place; I remember 
 visiting the place years ago after the Indians had gone and their land was 
 sold and eagerly sought after l)y the white men. who wanted the wood 
 
 — o71 — 
 
for lire and for buildiny purposes. My father bought the old Indian 
 council ground and my uncle, Michael Clapsaddle, who came to the Grove 
 soon after the lilack Hawk war, was personally acquainted with Shab- 
 bona. The old Indian used to visit at his house quite often and he was 
 never tired of telling of the brave deeds of the great warriors who had 
 lived and fought and gone hence to their happy hunting grounds, l)ut he 
 would never tell these things over before my aunt. He would want to 
 go out and sit down on the ground under the big shade trees, then he 
 would tell all the war stories one would care to listen to. 
 
 One day he came while the family were at dinner and s^t down on the 
 ground out in the door yard under a large oak tree to wait for my uncle 
 to come out, as he had told him the day before that he and his family 
 must leave the grove in a very few days. It was not their home now, 
 the white men had cheated him out of his home. They called it lawful 
 and right, but said he, "It is just like steal, me Shabbona tell them when 
 to run from Indian tomahawk." lie told my uncle how the Pottawato- 
 mie and Winnebago chiefs denounced him as a traitor to his race for 
 having warned the white people of their danger. They met in council 
 and said in their speeches that he had forfeited his life, and that both 
 tribes demanded his death because he was the white man's friend. In 
 the spring of 18.33, after the council on Green river, near wiiat is now 
 called New Bedford, two warriors volunteered to kill him. One morn- 
 ing, while he was out hunting, passing through the timlter just back of 
 my uncle's house (he pointed out the place to hini as he told him this) 
 two shots were fired at him from a cluster of bushes. "The bullets went 
 whiz! whiz! by my head just so,"' (motioning with his hands close by his 
 ears) "but they hide in the bushes, me see nobody."' On the same day 
 two mean-looking Indians were seen skulking along the edge of the 
 grove trying to hide themselves from sight. An old Indian who knew 
 they were trying to kill him went to a half-breed who had charge of a 
 trading house a few miles from where the council was held and told 
 Louis Ouilmette, the trader, that the two warriors were on their way to 
 kill him. Ouilmette sent a young Indian who was friendly to the whites 
 and Shabbona to warn him of his danger. lie said, "I loved my white 
 friends; I risked my life to save them from the scalping knife and I ex- 
 pected to die by the hand of my enemies for trying to save the lives of 
 my white friends and their children. I mounted ray pony and rode to 
 Bureau settlement and 1 did not return for many weeks, but went to 
 Rochell's village south of the Illinois river and hid away from my ene- 
 mies." 
 
Shabbona was pleasant in his manners and had many warm frietuls 
 amonf,' the white people and Indians also. Tie always kept his promise; 
 he was never known to do a mean dishonest act. My uncle said in speak- 
 ing of him his knowledge of the western country seemed to be extensive. 
 He talked about Galena and Chicago as we now talk about going to Shalj- 
 bona or Pawpaw, and yet the Indian trail and the Ucet-footed pony 
 helped him to cover the distance from Chicago to Galena in those days 
 when the whole state of Illinois was in two counties — St. Clair and Ran- 
 dolph—the northern portion, including Wisconsin, being under the juris- 
 diction of St. Clair. What a free wild life the Indians must have led be- 
 fore the palefaces came to disturb tliem. 
 
 Shabbona said, "Black Hawk did not expect to conquer the whites, 
 but thought if the dilTerent tribes joined him the government would be 
 willing to treat on favorable terms and return to him his village," which 
 the government had sold while he and his band were away on a hunt dur- 
 ing the winter of 1830. In the spring when they returned to their vil- 
 lage, as they had been in the habit of doing, they found people living 
 in their wigwams and that the white men had possession of their corn- 
 fields. 
 
 Black Hawk called on the Indian agent, Thomas Forsyth, at Rock Is- 
 land, and also on his friends, for counsel and advice, and they all advised 
 him to abandon his village and go west of the Mississippi river. He al- 
 ways contended to the day of his death that he had never sold his village, 
 and to regain possession of it seemed to be the one great object of his life. 
 
 Shabbona and Black Hawk had always been on friendly terms, al- 
 though Shabbona could not be induced to join him in a wjir against the 
 wliites. He told my uncle about the last time they visited together. 
 Black Hawk's band was camping about twenty-live miles above Dixon's 
 Ferry in a grove on a stream that has since been called Stillman's Run. 
 Black Hawk sent a message to Shabbona and to Waubansic, who had a 
 village at Pawpaw Grove, to meet him there They mounted their ponies 
 and started for his camp. They were met l)y the whole band of chiefs, 
 warriors, squaws and pappooses. They had a good dinner at Black 
 Hawk's wigwam, over which waved the British tlag, the one presented to 
 Black Hawk two years before by the commanding otlicer of Fort Waldcn. 
 A company of young squaws serenaded them with music of drums and 
 rattling gourds, songs and dances while they ate their dinner. 
 
 After dinner Black Hawk took his company off in the grove where 
 they could be alone for a little confidential talk. The three chiefs seated 
 themselves on a fallen tree and Black Hawk sat between Shabbona and 
 
 — 573 — 
 
Waubansic and told them the story of his wron^^s. lie told them how he 
 was born at Sac villa^'e and how he loved the place and that his father 
 and mother and some of his children were buried there and how he ex- 
 pected to live there and die there and be buried by their side, and he 
 said, "But now in my old age I have been driven from my home and dare 
 not loolc again upon this loved spot." lie hid his face in his blanket and 
 was silent for a long time. After wiping away his tears he said, "Before 
 many moons you too will be compelled to leave your homes, the hunting 
 grounds you have roamed over in your youth; the corn fields and your 
 villages will be in the possession of the whites, and the graves of your 
 fathers and loved ones will be plowed over by them, while your people 
 will be driven toward the setting sun, beyond the 'Father of Waters.'" 
 Black Hawk stood up before the chiefs and said, "We have always been 
 as brothers, have fought side by side in tlie British war, have hunted to- 
 gether and slept under the same blanket; we have met in council and at 
 religious feasts, our people are alike and our interests the same." Then 
 Black Hawk suid he was on the vv'arpath and urged his friends to join 
 him. Shabbona said nol he could not raise the tomahawk against the 
 white people who had always been kind to him. Waubansic heard what 
 was said by both and smoked his pipe in silence. After hearing Shab- 
 bona say "no" to the urgent pleading of Black Hawk, lie too refused to 
 take part in the war that Black Hawk was anxious to stir up against the 
 whites, but he promised to be present at the council of chiefs; but Shab- 
 bona refused to be present. He urged Black Hawk to go west of the 
 Mississippi to save his people— and the two chiefs parted to meet no more. 
 
 Waubansic and his band came to Pawpaw Grove during the summer 
 of 1824 and lived here until the government moved them west of the 
 Mississippi river. Shabbona told my uncle that he sent to Pawpaw for 
 Waubansic's band to come and stay at Shabbona Grove, so each band 
 would bo a protection for the other after the commencement of hostili- 
 ties. They stayed there for a number of days; afterward they sent their 
 squaws and pappooses and the old and infirm Indians to Ottawa and the 
 warriors joined Atkinson's army at Dixon's Ferry. A short time after 
 Waubansic went west he was killed by a party of Sacs and Foxes for hav- 
 ing fought against them during the Black Hawk war. His scalp was 
 taken and his body left on the prairie to be eaten up by wolves, while his 
 beautiful pony was ridden away by one of his murderers. 
 
 Shabbona said he was acquainted with Tccumseh, and he used to tell 
 how Tecumseh visited his village. He said: "On a warm day in Indian 
 summer, while me and mv friends were playing ball, Tecumseh and three 
 
 — 574 — 
 
chiefs, each riding a flue black pony, arrived at my village. The next 
 day a favorite dog was killed and a feast made for tlie great Tecumseh 
 and the chiefs that accompanied him, and night was spent with songs 
 and dancing. Shabbona went with his visitors to a number of villages on 
 the Illinois and Fox rivers and listened to the great Tecumseh's speeches 
 in behalf of his scheme of uniting all the tribes of the west in a war 
 against the whites that they might repel the encroachments of the white 
 men, and retard the march of civilization, which meant the extermina- 
 tion of the Indian. The next summer Shabbona accompanied Tecumseh 
 to Vinccnnes to meet Gen. Harrison the second time in council, and lis- 
 tened to their angry speeches. Neither Tecumseh nor JIarrison were 
 willing to make any concession, and the council ended without reconcil- 
 iation. Shabbona was Aid to Tecumseh, and stood by his side when he 
 fell at the battle of Thames. The old chief liked to tell about the battle 
 of the Thames, and describe every detail. Shabbona said he was standing 
 by the side of Tecumseh when he was shot by the man on a white horse 
 (Col' Johnson) and witn a shrill whoop he fell to the ground. 
 
 After the death of his first squaw Shabbona married another, named 
 Miamex Zebequa, and by her he had a number of children. In accord- 
 ance with Indian customs, some years afterward he married another 
 squaw. After this event the;(lrst wife and second wife did not agree, 
 and they had frequent quarrels, and afier a few years Po-ka-no-ka, the 
 younger wife, who was said to be very handsome, left the family and 
 went to live with her people in Kansas. 
 
 Shabbona's oldest son's name was Bypegee, but he was known among 
 the white^settlersas Bill Shabbona. During the Black Hawk war he 
 rode far and near, at Shabbona's bidding, to warn the.early settlers of the 
 approach of the merciless savages that were coming ;to scalp them and 
 burn their dwellings. 
 
 While at the grove Shabbona's family numbered twentj-flve or thirty 
 persons, counting his two squaws, his children, grandchildren, neices, 
 nephews and all. lie frequently took the little ones to church on Sun- 
 day. A few years before his death he gave all his family christian names 
 and took the name of Benjamin himself. 
 
 Shabbona died at his home on the Illinois river July IT, 1859, aged 
 eighty-four years, and was buried with much pomp and ceremony in 
 Morris cemetery. Ilis remains were deposited on lot 59, block 7, donated 
 by the cemetery, but neither stone nor stake marked the spot. Shab- 
 bona's oldest squaw, Miamex Zebequa, and Mary Oquaka, a little grand- 
 daughter four years of age, were drowned in Mason creek, in Grundy 
 
 — 575 — 
 
county Noveml)er .'50, 1864, and arc buried by the side of Shabbona. 
 There are eight of Shabbona's family buried on the same lot in Morris' 
 cemetery, Ave of whom were his children or grandchildren. 
 
 I am indebted to N. Matson's memories of Shabbona for some of the 
 dates and for some of the information in this sketch, especially that con- 
 cerning Shabbona's death and burial. The object of this sketch is 
 merely to do justice to the old Indian chief and to preserve an account of 
 some of his deeds which should form a part of the early history of this 
 country. 
 
 E, S. Braffet. 
 
Pi0T2eeir Experiences. 
 
 DR. ISRAEL F. IIALLOCK, one of the few survivors of the early set- 
 tlers of Wyoming township, sends us a short story of some of his 
 and some of his wife's pioneer experiences. We wish it was longer, 
 and wish, too, that we h^d many more such to present our readers for the 
 "Recollections" of genuine pioneers are a story of which we never tire, 
 but alas, a story which must soon be "a tale that is told"— for the pioneers 
 are fast passing away. 
 To The Columbian Cluij: 
 
 Seeing jour request for family sketches and historical facts concern- 
 ing the early settlers of this county I thought it might not be amiss to 
 give a few incidents connected with that early day. It was thought by 
 many that only the simple would settle in such a country. Being one of 
 those simple ones I first settled in Stark county in July, 1840. After a 
 journey of seven weeks and five days over hill and dale, on the 10th day 
 of July we (1 say we for 1 liad taken captive one of Deacon O. Boardman's 
 (laughters a few months before) together with my father-in-law and 
 family, drove up to the door of L. Dorrance in said county, and then 
 commenced our first housekeeping. The first thing we did was to buy a 
 cow, after which 1 had just $;J. left. To care for the milk wooden 
 troughs dug out of slabs made very good substitute for pans then we 
 bought a rough table of Mr. White, a carpenter. I took it home on my 
 back a mile and a half. This, together with a kettle and a frying pan 
 and a few other things brought in a one horse wagon from tlie east com- 
 prised our household goods. Working here a day, and there a day, for 
 flour and potatoes, I got our food. Pumpkins being plenty they came 
 without work. 
 
 In the fall of the same year after the excitement of the Tippecanoe 
 campaign was over we came to Paw Paw, and built our first log cabin. 
 Here, not having any chairs we used stools or benches until a tavern 
 
 — 579 — 
 
keeper sold out to get money to bail his son, who was under arrest for 
 counterfeiting; of him I bought two cliairs, carrying them home on my 
 back, Having exchanged my horse and wagon for a claim 1 got a yoke 
 of steers and commenced farming in earnest. With this team I used to 
 haul my surplus grain to market, go to church and visiting with as much 
 pride as the young man of today with his tine carriage and 2:40 horse. In 
 the meantime my good wife was supplying our wearing apparel, bed and 
 table linen, spinning and weaving the flax with her own hands, until we 
 were able to own sheep, when the wool was sent to the factory and card- 
 ed, then she spun the yarn and wove the cloth to make our clothing, bed 
 blankets, etc., doing all the work with her own hands, unless we wanted 
 something very fine for Sunday wear, when the homemade cloth was 
 sent to the factory, sheared and pressed and then made up. 
 
 The experience of my wife was but the experience of nearly all the 
 women of that early day, who not only prepared for the family what was 
 provided by the husband, but who cheerfully manufactured from the 
 wool and the flax material that could not be procured in any other way. 
 And to these pioneer mothers the people of this generation owe much of 
 the luxuries and comforts which they enjoy. 
 
 J. F. IIallock. 
 
Wyoming ToWn^ftip, 
 
 THE first settlers in this township located around thegrove, of course. 
 Paw Paw Grove takes Its name from the Paw Paw trees that prow 
 there. It is the southeastern township of Lee county, and the 
 prove lies east of the railroad station that Is called Paw Paw. 
 
 David A. Town was the first white settler who took a claim and made 
 a home at Paw Paw Grove. He with his wife and four children came to 
 the grove in 1834. He built his house on the south side of the grove, west 
 of the farm now owned by Pierpont Edwards. It was built of logs, 16x18 
 feet, with one door and one six lighted window, and had a fire place and 
 chimney. The floor was made of split logs, hewn with a broad axe, O. 
 P. Johnson, of Brooklyn, helped build this house, and he said that he and 
 three other men built it in a day and a half, in November, 1834. In 1835 
 Isaac Balding came and located on the Chicago road, between the two 
 Paw Paws. He kept the first stage house and tavern, and the stage 
 stopped at his house as long as it ran by Paw Paw. They were put on 
 this route, between Galena and Chicago, in 1834. 
 
 In December, 1835, Russell Town came to the grove with his wife and 
 five children. Charles Morgan and wife, and seven children, came from 
 Virginia, and the next year they were keeping tavern half a mile east of 
 David A. Town's house. 
 
 William Rogers came in 1836. He was the first postmaster, having 
 his office near Morgan's tavern. The next post office was at Shabbona 
 Grove. He had charge of the removal of the Indians from here to 
 Council Bluffs in 1837. He was an officer in the Mexican war, and had 
 been sheriff of Sacramento, California. 
 
 The first weddings were In 1836. On July 4th, of that year, Samuel 
 McDowel, who had lived at the southeastern side uf the grove for a num- 
 ber of years, was married to Delilah Harris. This was the first marriage 
 in the township. Among the Guests were Shabbona and two other In- 
 dians, who were very much pleased at being invited. Hassa Town, who 
 
 — 581 — 
 
was present at the wedding, used to tell of the way they celebrated it like 
 the Fourth of July. After the wedding ceremony the men went into 
 a grove and cut a liberty pole and Ijrought on their shoulders, then they 
 fastened a flag with the stars and stripes, to the end of the pole, and 
 hoisted the pole so the flag could float in the breeze, and then how they 
 did shout. It seemed like a regular Fourth of July celebration. The next 
 wedding was that of Fidelia Sawyer to George Town, December 13, 1836. 
 December 20th Levi Carter was married to the widow Gillet. Rev. Benoni 
 Harris officiated at each occasion. 
 
 Jacob D. Rogers came in 1837 from Pennsylvania. His claim of 320 
 acres was next west of George Town's claim, and included the west part 
 of the site of Fawpaw. He was the flrst to settle out on the prairie 
 west of the grove. His log house, which was built in 1837, stood where 
 Dr. George Ryan afterwards lived, and Ritchies lived there a long time 
 afterward. The place where the log house stood is now occupied by a 
 line dwelling house owned by George Faber. 
 
 James Gable came with Rogers, and he used to tell about helping to 
 build the log house, and he said after they had hauled one load of logs 
 and piled them upon the ground and went and got another load, they 
 had hard work to find the place where they had deposited the flrst load, 
 the grass was so thick and tall it hid them from their sight, and there 
 was no road to guide them. The Indian trail ran past Fawpaw to Shab- 
 bona Grove. 
 
 In 1841 during the summer a thousand Indians were encamped in the 
 northwest part of the grove near a big spring, near what is now called 
 Wheeler's Grove. They came from Indiana and here was where they 
 stopped to get tlieir pay from the government. This same year the In- 
 dians that had lived here, Waubansic's tribe, had been removed to their 
 new hunting ground beyond the Mississippi river. 
 
 In 1838 Rev. Caleb Morris came. With him came his daughter, the 
 widow Nancy Robinson, and her children, one daughter and six sons. 
 
 Deacon Orlando Boardman came in 1849. It was through his efforts 
 and assistance that the flrst r>aptist church was built at South Fawpaw. 
 Deacon Hallock also arrived that year, and White and French, Pete and 
 Mr. Breese's family, who came in May, 1841. There were then eighteen 
 families around the grove, thirteen of whom were living in Brooklyn 
 township. 
 
 Peter May came in 1841. He bought part of the laud where Pawpaw 
 now stands. Hon. O W. Bey came in 1842 and settled at Four Mile Grove. 
 
 Elder Norman Warriner came in 1843 and for twenty years was pastor 
 
 — 582 — 
 
 L 
 
of the Baptist church. There were a great many taverns alon^ the old 
 Chicago road, but they could not accommodate many guests. Jacob 
 Wirick kept tavern at East Pawpaw in early days. 
 
 The first school was taught in 1836 in a little pole schoolhouse 12x12, 
 built for the purpose on the Mead farm. Emily Giles, from Fox river, 
 taught for one dollar a week and boarded around. In the spring of 183r 
 Rev. Benoni Harris began to preach occasionally in his son's liouse,wlierc 
 he lived in 1839. 
 
 Father Morris came and preached in the cabins of the settlers. Cir- 
 cuit preachers came in '39 and '40; among the first was Elder White, Mr. 
 Lummery, Alonzo Carte , Peter Cartwright and Mr. Bachelder, all of 
 these were Methodists; their appointments were about tliree months 
 apart. The first Baptist preacliers were Eldeis Carpenter, Charles Hard- 
 ing and Norman Warriner. Dr. George S. Hunt, the flrst practicing 
 physician at the Grove and in Wyoming township, came here in the 
 spring of 1844. He has been dead many years. His wife also is dead, 
 and their only child, Mrs. John lurKcr, lives at tlie old homestead. 
 
 Mks. E. S. Braffet. 
 
154 74 
 
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