On Monday morning, near the close of November, 1823, a few persons might have been seen crossing the Mississinewa river, making their way northward from the residence of Mr. Mishack Lewallen, or what is now the pleasant village of Ridgeville, Randolph County, Indiana. The company consisted of John Gain, who was a Dutch Indian-trader, John Brooks, his wife Mary Brooks, and Nancy Brooks, who was then an infant. Mary and her child were riding in a wagon, drawn by one yoke of oxen; John Gain was driving, while John Brooks was cutting out the way. They were entering an untamed and unknown wilderness, where before only the tragic scenes of the wild forest had been enacted.

The noiseless march of the surly bear, the piteous bleating of the deer, as, wearied and despairing, it resigns itself to the jaws of the wolves that have been fleetly chasing it for a day ; the terrible howling and bloody battles over the booty ; the stealthy step of the Indian in pursuit of his game, and sharp crack of his rifle and exulting "whoop," and upward curling of the blue smoke from camp fires or rude wigwams, and the excitement of the " Indian war dance"—all these were the sights and sounds to which these tall forests had been mute witnesses for centuries. The sound of the white man's axe was the precursor of the dawn of civilization upon that wilderness. The company were endeavoring to follow an Indian bridle path called the " Godfrey Trace," which led from the settlement on the Mississinewa to the Indian town on the Salimonie.

The two men kept up a lively discourse upon the new country, the abundance of game, the quality of the soil, the prospect for profitable trade with the Indians, and such other topics as are always full of interest to the pioneer. Thus slowly wended their way forward the second white family that ever moved into Jay County, and the first one that made it their permanent home.

The day was a most beautiful one, and the weather very pleasant for the season. The mild brilliance of the autumn sunlight tinted the forests with golden rays, the fallen leaves spread the earth with a carpet of brown, and the air was melodious with the farewell songs of the feathery tribes, as they took their flight for the sunny regions of the far South. Save the chirping of the birds and the frisking and chattering of the squirrels, the voices and movements of the company were all that broke the stillness of those dense forests. The scene before and around them was grand and inspiring, and the men moved forward elated and cheerful, while hope painted the future with long lives of enjoyment and prosperity.

On their way they passed over the beautiful knoll on which New Mount Pleasant is now situated, and toward evening stopped for the night, and camped on the banks of a small creek, afterward called Brooks' Creek, in honor of the family which was the first to camp, and subsequently the first to live upon its banks. They kindled a" cheerful fire by the side of a large log, and Mary Brooks cooked supper by it, getting water from the stream. Soon after nightfall they prepared to rest, for all were weary with their day's travel. The ground was dry, and they gathered in heaps the fallen leaves, spread blankets upon them, and, with feet toward the fire, all lay down under the star-spangled canopy which overspread them. But Mary Brooks did not sleep. Her heart was full of sadness. To use her own language, "she was sad all that day, as they came through the wilderness." They seemed to be entering an unending forest, and going—she knew not where. She had bidden farewell to friends, society and even civilization, and was going where, besides her husband and child, her only companions would be Indians and wild beasts. Her husband could hunt, trade or travel; but what could she do to draw her mind from the surrounding wilderness ? A lonely life in a dreary wilderness, beyond the reach of society and friends—a sad, disheartening prospect! Still more, as they lay upon the ground in the open air, darkness around them, the twinkling stars above them, the wolves howled fearfully around the camp. To an( old hunter such circumstances are fascinating, but to woman —delicate, sensitive, home-loving woman—they have no charms. So Mary Brooks lay down upon her bed of leaves, and wept bitterly all that long night.

Many times she besought her husband to take her back to the settlements ; but his desire to go forward and try the life of a pioneer and secure a home for his family, led him to deny her urgent request.

Early the next morning they set out for the Indian village, on the banks of the Salimonie, ot twenty or thirty huts. The Indians were of the Miami tribe, and Francois Godfrey their chief. A few years afterward he built a brick house there, and since then it has generally been known as the "Godfrey Farm." The Indians left in 1834, and the farm is now owned by a resident of Kentucky. They reached this town about sunset. The Indians were very kind, and gave them a camp to sleep in that night. On Wednesday morning they crossed the Salimonie to their home, three quarters of a mile distant. This consisted of two cabins, built by John Gain—one for a dwelling, and the other to keep articles in for traffic with the Indians. They were situated on the low bank of a small prairie. ~No ground was cleared around the cabins, but the men immediately set to work and cleared seven acres. Mary Brooks, naturally industrious, energetic and cheerful, looked about her and went to work. Though twenty-four miles from any white family, surrounded by forests and savages, yet for the sake of pleasing her husband, whom she devotedly loved, she resolved to be contented.

Having introduced the second family who braved the dangers and endured the privations of pioneer life in Jay, a brief sketch of their former lives may be interesting:

John Brooks, born August 6th, 1791, near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, was raised a farmer, in Maysville, Ohio. Mary Campbell was born October 19th, 1799, in Bourbon County, Kentucky. At an early age she moved to Ohio, where, in her seventeenth year, she married John Brooks, July 15th. 1816. They farmed until, in June, 1817, Mr. Brooks came to Ridgeville, Indiana, to see his sister, Hannah Lewallen. He was so fascinated with the country that he would not return to Ohio, and sent for his wife. Mary, willing to follow the fortunes of her husband, immediately prepared for the long trip, bade her friends what proved to be a last farewell, and set out on horseback. Her youth, fine health and adventurous spirit made her anxious to see the "new country." She arrived safely at the frontier settlement.

In a few weeks her first child, Elizabeth, was born ; but it died in thirteen months, and was the first person buried in the cemetery at Ridgeville. There were but three families in that settlement prior to her arrival. They were Joab Ward, Mishack Lewallen and Stephen Jones.

One day, one of the men shot an Indian whom he caught stealing cabbage from his garden. This aroused the anger of the Indians, and the settlement was very much alarmed lest they should all be murdered. They made a fort of Lewallen's house, and the four families lived in it for two weeks, in constant fear of an attack. But their enemies did not come, and they again ventured forth to their usual avocations. During the summer of 1823 Mr. Brooks made two visits to the Godfrey Farm, and there became acquainted with John Gain, who oifered him $60 a year if he would bring his family there and keep house. Desiring to get money to enter some land, he accepted the offer, and in November John Gain took the family as heretofore narrated, to his home on the little prairie.

John Gain soon began to think that he could do better at Fort Wayne, and in February, 1824, moved there. This greatly embarrassed Mr. Brooks. It deprived him of the expected income, and left him there alone with the Indians, with no means of conveying his family to the settlement. In the spring he planted the cleared ground in corn, and there was a fine prospect for a crop until the blackbirds came by thousands and destroyed the most of it. Mrs. Brooks says it seemed as if there was a bird for every ear. Fortunately John Brooks was a favorite with the Indians, and they taught him their arts in hunting and trapping, and these were now his only dependence. During his stay there he killed thirteen wolves, besides large numbers of deer, raccoon, and other animals. He sold the furs in Fort Wayne at high prices. In this way he supported his family the first year. The second spring he again planted corn, and raised an abundant crop. After awhile he got a yoke of oxen, and then commenced trading with the Indians, mostly in flour, which he brought from Stillwater, Darke County, Ohio.

One time when Mr. Brooks was preparing to go to Ttidgeville, he got an old Indian woman, who was the mother of Francois Godfrey, the Chief, to stay with Mary during his absence. She was a kind old "squaw," and Mrs. Brooks avers was quite good company. They passed the time pleasantly together, until one day an Indian came there and gave her some whisky, and she drank freely. That night she was taken very sick. Mrs. Brooks did everything possible for her relief; but she grew worse. About two o'clock in the morning she brought her blanket, sat down on the floor, and leaned her head against Mrs. Brooks, and there, supported by her pale-faced friend, in a few minutes she breathed her last. Mrs. Brooks laid the corpse upon the floor, covered it up and waited alone with the dead until morning, when the Indian who had been there the evening before, came, and she sent him to the Chief with the news.. A large number of Indians then came down to Brooks', and showed many signs of sincere mourning. By their request, Mrs. Brooks baked a large cake in the ashes, and they buried it with the corpse. The friendship of the Indians, and especially of the Chief, for the Brooks family was now greatly increased. Mr. Brooks' business kept him much of the time away from home, and the Chief took great pains to see that the family was not molested. He gave orders to his tribe that any Indian who would disturb them should be killed; and whenever Mr. Brooks was absent, this Chief would send his son almost every day to inquire of Mrs. Brooks' welfare. During the several years in which the Indians were their only neighbors, no unfriendliness or cruelty was shown them.

In June, 1824, Mr. Brooks started to Stillwater for provisions, expecting to be gone several days. His wife and child were to be left alone, as was usual in such cases. She saw no one for several days, except a traveler on his way to Fort Wayne, who called for a meal. A heavy rain caused an unprecedented rise in the streams, rendering it impossible for Mr. Brooks to reach his family or get nearer to them than Kidgeville. Mrs. Brooks now began to fear for her husband. She knew that he would make every effort in his power to reach his family, and greatly feared that he would risk too much and get drowned. But apprehensions of her own safety soon added to her perplexities. Her provisions were nearly gone, and the Salimonie remained so high that she could not cross to the Indian village to get relief. Her forebodings and anxieties increased until, on the thirteenth day of her husband's absence, she gave the last mouthful of food about the house to her child. She then had nothing whatever left but some sugar and a little milk.

Still the Salimonie overflowed its banks, and relief came not. Her child lived on milk, but cried almost continually, while her own sadness and hunger were overwhelming. The belief that ^Mr. Brooks was drowned, added to her own hunger, made her desperate. In this suffering and despairing condition did the poor woman and her child live for three days. By this time she gave up all hope of ever seeing her husband again, and supposed she must starve; but preferring a watery grave to the slow torments of starvation, she resolved to go to the Salimonie and drown herself and little one. Taking the child, she went to the river, but her weakness compelled hereto rest several times on the way. Probably the sight of the swollen, angry current startled her, for she sat down on a log when she reached the water's edge. To use her own language : " It was the thought that my husband was dead that so discouraged me, and I concluded to go half way across the foot log and throw myself into the stream." While there weeping she saw a person coming toward her on the opposite side of the river. Seeing he had a hat on, she knew it was a white man. After wading a long distance he reached the foot log and came across to her. She was so weak that her joy quite overcame her, and for a time she could not answer his question—"What is the matter?" .At length she replied—" I'm starving!" It was her old friend John Gain, returning for some things he had left there. On learning her condition he went with her, and carried the child back to the cabin, and then went over to the Indian village for food. He got eighteen pounds of flour and six of bacon, and started back, but by the time he reached the river it was night. Wading to the foot log, he found the water had risen during his absence, until the sweeping current was above it. To attempt crossing would be certain death, and those whom he was trying to succor would also be lost. He stood pondering what to do until the increasing darkness placed him in a new danger. There were many deep holes along the bottoms, and knowing that the darkness would prevent him, from avoiding them, he dared not return. Standing in three feet of water, a woman and her child starving for want of the flour and bacon he had on his back, while to go forward or backward would be almost certain death, he was in a sad dilemma. But there was no alternative—he must stand there ; so there he stood, sides deep in water, the night long! .Never was the gray dawn of morning welcomed more gladly. He then made his way back to the town and inquired for a canoe, but there was none nearer than three miles up the stream. He gave a young Indian one dollar to bring it down, and charged him to make all possible haste. But the Indian took his leisure, and it was noon before he returned, and one o'clock when John Gain reached the cabin with the longneeded refreshments. He staid and saw the famished ones eat the first meal for nearlj four days. Their gratification and thankfulness amply compensated him for his eiforts to relieve them. Then he went his way, and Mary Brooks was again alone. It had now been seventeen days since her husband's departure, and during that time the only human beings she had seen was the traveler before mentioned and John Gain. On the nineteenth day she was greatly rejoiced at the sight of her husband. He left his oxen at the Indian town, crossed the Salimonie by falling trees and wading. They then set about making a canoe, or "perogue," as they were then called, and after rolling it three-quarters of a mile, they got it into the stream and brought over their provisions. The Salimonie continued so high that it was nine days before the team could be brought home. Thus ended one of the severest trials early settlers are ever called to endure.

The only visitor Mary Brooks had while living on the prairie was Mrs. Hannah Lewallen, from Kidgeville, who came twenty-four miles on those occasions, which, as Fanny Fern says, " involve the increase of the census." At one time Miss Barbary Quick came to work for them, walking with Mr. Brooks twenty-four miles in one day. This great distance from any settlement was at all times, especially in cases of sickness, a serious inconvenience. Once one of the children was very sick. All the curative arts which a mother always knows seemed of no avail, aud they began to fear their wilderness flower was to be taken from them. John Brooks set out on foot for Fort Wayne, the nearest place where medicine could then be obtained. He performed the journey in two days and nights, and on his return found the child better, and it was soon well.

The second person born in the county, and the first who is yet living, was Allen Brooks, March 4th, 1824. He still lives in Jay, and is a respectable citizen. The next one was William Brooks, October 20th, 1825.

While Mr. Brooks was trading with the Indians he went to the Big Miami, in Ohio, for some things, and brought back a barrel of apples, which he took to Fort Wayne and sold at a very high price. Saving seven choice ones, he brought them home to his wife. Like a prudent woman, she saved the seeds and planted them. They came up nicely, and Mary was so proud of her little nursery that she visited it nearly every day. But of this and what came of it more hereafter.

John Brooks was delighted with the country on Brooks' Creek around where they camped on the way out, and always said he would enter land there. The place was then called Cherry Grove. As they had lived on the prairie about two years and a half, and no settlers had come in, they determined to move to Cherry Grove, which would bring them within twelve miles of the Ridgeville settlement.

Early in the spring Mr. Brooks hired a man named Richard Swain for one month. He was a traveler. The two men went to Cherry Grove, built two "half-faced" camps, and cleared a small spot of ground, where Mary Brooks' orchard now stands. "Half-faced" camps, as they were called, must be mentioned frequently in this work, and should be described. Generally, they were made thus: poles were cut, and built up at one end in the form of a log house, while the other end was left open, and the end of the poles placed between posts which were withed together. The whole was covered with clapboards. The open end was the highest, and answered the purpose of door, window and fireplace. This fashion was often changed in some particulars. Sometimes the back end was built against a large log, and poles only on the sides. Frequently the roof was only brush or bark. Hunters' camps were still less substantial. Four forked poles were driven into the ground, connected at the top by other poles laid across and covered with bark, while brush was piled around the sides. Sometimes the better class of camps were supplied with bark floors. These were of course only intended to afford a shelter for the family until a cabin could be erected.

The Brooks camp was covered with bark, and the sun soon curled it up until it was very little protection against rain. But Mr. Brooks soon built a cabin and moved his family into more comfortable quarters. lie cleared three acres of ground, and planted it in corn that spring. He also resumed his usual employment of trading with the Indians, hunting and trapping. At one lime he took one hundred and eighteen raccoon skins to Fort Wayne and sold them. He always preferred teaming to hunting, and after the country became somewhat settled, that was his chief occupation.

These years passed slowly and drearily for Mary Brooks. Her husband was absent most of the time; she had no neighbor with whom to exchange visits, and the calls of Indians or travelers were few. It seemed to her as if she was caged in a wilderness, out of which she could not even see, much less escape. Much of the time she was sad and lonely. Her heart yearned for society and friends. And no wonder, for she lived there seven years without seeing any other house than her own! Think of that, village mothers, whose neighbors, within a few steps from your door, are counted by scores! Think of that, farmers' wives, the music of whose ringing farm-bell is answered by the sweet chimes of half-a-dozen neighboring ones! Seven years in the wilderness, without neighbors ! Though the Israelites were kept in the wilderness, they had their whole tribe of relatives for company.

But she had other trials. While living in this lonely condition, a man named George Porter and family, now a resident of Blackford County, moved through there and settled om the prairie by the Godfrey Farm. This made no nearer neighbors, for it was twelve miles there; but Porter and Brooks would sometimes go after provisions together. One time they went to Newport, "Wayne County, on this errand. As was frequently the case, they were unexpectedly detained several days, and Mrs. Brooks, with five children, found she was entirely out of flour or meal. She had plenty of cheese, milk and sugar, and upon these they lived for three days. They suffered much, especially the children, until Mr. Porter came along with some meal, which Mr. Brooks, who was a long distance behind, had sent forward. Mrs. Brooks tells of a similar occurrence at Ridgeville, while Mr. Lewallen was building the first mill at that place. He had a number of hands at work, an/J got entirely out of flour and meal. The hands were called together, and Mr. Lewallen stated the case to them. They were all so anxious to get the mill done, they said they would work without bread while he went to mill. They did so, and worked a whole week without bread! They had, however, plenty of meat, potatoes and squashes.

Mrs. Brooks had carefully taken up her apple tree nursery on the prairie, and set it out at Cherry Grove. There were thirty-three in all, and when they reached the proper size, she had them set out as an orchard. This pioneer orchard grew rapidly, and by the time the country was being generally settled, bore an abundance of fine fruit. To this day thirty-one of those trees are living, still luxuriant and prolific. They are now extraordinarily large trees. The body of one, two feet above the ground, measures five feet and two inches in circumference, while the top spreads out to forty feet in diameter. The body of another is five feet in circumference, and the top forty-four feet in diameter. The writer measured them in December, 1861. At that time the joists in front of Mrs. Brooks' fireplace were hanging full of nice drying apples, while a basket of the beautiful fruit was sitting near to regale the visitor. That year, while most orchards failed, she had a bountiful supply. It is the oldest orchard in Jay County, and for thirty years those mammoth apple trees have rewarded a hundred fold her early foresight and care. This is what came of the seven choice apples.

About the year 1833 a man named William Van Sickle and his family came through there from Muncie, on their way to Fort Wayne. As he was out of money, he concluded to stop a short time at Cherry Grove. Accordingly he built a cabin and staid there three years. This was the first white neighbor Mrs. Brooks had had for ten years; but they were mere sojourners, and moved away again.

At last, after long years of waiting and hoping, settlers began to move in with their families, their industry and their civilization. The wilderness now began to look like a neighborhood, and Mary Brooks was greatly rejoiced. The first one who moved near them was Mr. Adam Zeigler, who settled within one mile and a half. Mrs. Brooks was so delighted to have a neighbor, she thought it was but a "few steps" to Mr. Zeigler's.

John Brooks died on the 4th of February 1844, of dropsy. Rev. George C. Whiteman preached the funeral sermon, and Mr. Timothy Stratton was Administrator of the estate. Thus departed the first man who became a permanent resident of Jay County.

Mrs. Brooks still lives in widowhood, in a log house built by her husband, in the southeast corner of Knox Township. She is the mother of eleven children. Three of her sons were born March 4th, viz.: 1824, '27, '31. She is now in her sixty-fourth year. Her life has been rough and wild, and full of privations and suffering, yet she retains more of womanhood than could reasonably be expected. While giving the author these sketches, the painful recollections they brought up often caused her to weep. Let us honor her as the oldest inhabitant of Jay County still living within its limits.

History of Jay County, Indiana By M. W. Montgomery