Wayne County, Indiana
History
Log Cabins
A
description of those early
domiciles familiarly called log cabins, and the mode of erecting them,
may be interesting to the younger readers, and especially to their
descendants, who will never see a structure of this kind. The early
settlers, after roads had been opened by cutting away the underbrush,
came in on wagons, some of them drawn by four-horse teams. It is said
that a few came with their Carolina carts, the wheels of which were
banded with wooden tire and pitched with tar. This, however, needs
confirmation. Their horses (probably not in all cases) were harnessed
in husk collars and rawhide traces. They were wont to stop with their
Carolina friends, and partake of their hospitality until a cabin was
built. In this they were kindly assisted by those already settled here.
A patch of ground having been cleared, they would turn out en masse.
Trees of uniform size were selected, cut into pieces of the desired
length, and carried or hauled to the spot, which was generally selected
near a spring of water, regardless of other considerations. Hence,
many afterward found themselves at an inconvenient distance from
roads, and their cabins, perhaps, hid away in some hollow. While the
logs were being brought together, others were selecting a board tree,
usually an oak of large size. This was cut into pieces about
four feet in length with a cross-cut saw, if any were so fortunate as
to have one. These pieces were, with a fro and wooden maul, riven into
boards, called clapboards. Others, still, would be riving and slitting
out narrow pieces for a chimney.
The
cabin was in
the meantime rapidly
going up. At each corner was an expert hand with an ax to saddle and
notch down the logs so low as to bring them near together. The usual
height was one story. The gable was made with logs gradually shortened
up to the top. The roof was made by laying small logs or stout poles
reaching from gable to gable, suitable distances apart, on which were
laid the split clapboards after the manner of shingling, showing
two feet or more to the weather. These clapboards were fastened by
laying across them heavy poles called weight poles, reaching from
one gable to the other; being kept apart and in their places by laying
between them sticks, or pieces of timber, called knees. A wide chimney
piece was cut out of one end of the building, and split timbers laid
up for jambs, flat sides inward, extending out from the building.
This little structure supported the chimney which stood entirely
outside of the house, and was built of the rived sticks before
mentioned, laid up cob-house fashion, gradually narrowed in to the top.
The spaces between the sticks were filled with clay of the consistency
of common mortar. Hence the name of "stick and clay chimney." The
inside of these wooden jambs was covered several feet high with a thick
coat of clay or dirt to protect them against lire. The hearth also was
dirt. For a window, a piece, two feet long, less or more, was cut out
of one of the wall logs, and the bole closed with paper pasted over it.
A door-way also was cat /through 000 of the walls, and split pieces
called door-cheeks, reaching from the bottom to the top of the opening,
were pinned to the ends of the logs with wooden pins. A door was
made of split clapboards, battons being nailed on with wrought nails
made by a pioneer blacksmith, and was knag with wooden hinges. The
interstices or cracks between were closed with mud.
The larger cracks or chinks, were first partially closed with split
sticks before the clay or mud was applied. Some had wooden floors,
which, before the days of saw-mills, were made of slabs split from
straight grained timber, and called 'puncheons. They were generally
hewed on one side, and fastened on log sills with wooden pins. Many a
child performed its first locomotion on a puncheon floor, and came in
contact, at full length, with the rough surface of those slabs. The
cabin was now ready for the family, all the work having in some
instances been done in one day.
Some
of the
Carolinians brought no
bedsteads. A substitute was made by boring holes in the walls,
into which the ends of strong poles were fitted, the cross pieces
resting on forked upright pieces fastened to the puncheon floor, or to
the ground, if there were no such floor. This rough frame, overlaid
with clapboards, was ready for the feather beds the immigrants had
brought with them.
The
internal
arrangements of one of
these rude dwellings is thus described: The door is opened by pulling a
leather string that lifts a wooden latch on the inside. [The inmates
made themselves secure in the night season by pulling the string in.]
On entering, (it being meal time,) we find a portion of the family
sitting around a large chest in which their valuables had been brought,
but which now serves as a table from which they are partaking their
plain meal cooked by a log heap fire. In one corner of the room are two
or more clapboards on wooden pins, displaying the table ware,
consisting of a few cups and saucers, and a few blue edged plates, with
a goodly number of pewter plates, perhaps standing, single, on their
edges, leaning against the wall, to render the display of table
furniture more conspicuous. Underneath this cupboard are seen a
few pots and perhaps a Dutch oven. Not many chairs having been brought
in, the deficiency has been supplied with stools made of puncheon
boards with three legs. Over the doorway lies the indispensable rifle
on two wooden hooks, probably taken from a dog-wood bush, and nailed to
a log of the cabin. Upon the inner wails hang divers garments of female
attire made of cotton and woolen fabrics, and perhaps one or two blue
and white calico dresses which had done long service in the Carolinas
before their transportation hither.
Among
the
different ways of lighting
log cabins, Rev. Wm.. C. Smith, in his "Indiana Miscellanies," gives
the following: " During the day, the door of the cabin was kept open to
afford light; and at night, through the winter season, light was
emitted from the fireplace, where huge logs were kept burning. Candles
and lamps were out of the question for a few years. When these came
into use, they were purely domestic in their manufacture. Candles were
prepared by taking a wooden rod some 10 or 12 inches in length,
wrapping a strip of cotton or linen cloth around it, then covering
it with tallow pressed on with the hand. These 'sluts/ as they were
sometimes called, answered the purpose of a very large candle, and
afforded light for several nights. Lamps were prepared by dividing a
large turnip in the middle, scraping out the inside quite down to the
rind, then inserting a stick, say three inches in length, in the
center, so that it would stand upright. A strip of cotton or linen
cloth was then wrapped around it, and melted lard or deer's tallow was
poured in till the turnip rind was full, when the lamp was ready for
use. By the light of these, during the long winter evenings, the women
spun and sewed, and the men read when books could be obtained. When
neither lard nor tallow could be had, the large blazing fire supplied
the needed light. By these great fireplaces, many cuts of thread have
been spun, many a yard of Kinsey woven, and many a frock and buckskin
pantaloons made."
Living
in houses
like those here
described, must have been attended with serious discomforts. A single
room was made to serve the purposes of kitchen, dining-room,
sitting-room, bed-room, and parlor. In many families were six, eight,
or ten children, who, with their parents, were crowded into one room.
In one corner was the father and mother's bed, and under it the
trundle-bed for the smaller children. The larger children lodged in the
chamber, which they entered by a ladder in another corner; and
sometimes made tracks to and from their beds in the snow driven through
the crevices by the wind. Nor did their roofs, made of hark or
clapboards, protect them from rains in the summer. How visitors who
came to spend the night were disposed of, the reader may not easily
conceive. Some, as their families increased, added to their houses
another room of the same size and manner of construction as the former.
Such were the domiciles and the condition of many of the early settlers
of Whitewater valley. A few of these men still remain among us, in
opssession of ample fortunes, and in the enjoyment of the
conleniences and improvements of the present age the reward of
their early privations and toils.
Clearing
Land
The land in this region was covered
with heavy timber and a profusion of undergrowth of various kinds, some
bearing wild fruits, as grapes, plums, gooseberries, pawpaw's, crab
apples, &etc. The custom of cutting down all the timber at first,
as
was done in some states, did not prevail here. The bushes were either
cut down or grubbed out; and the smaller trees, including all under
about eighteen inches in diameter, were chopped down, and their bodies
cut into lengths of twelve to fifteen feet, and their brush piled in
heaps. The large trees were left standing, and "deadened" by girdling.
This was done with an ax, cutting through the bark into the wood all
round the trunk, thus causing the death and decay of the tree. After
the brush heaps had become sufficiently dried, they were burned. As a
"good burn" was desirable, a dry time was generally chosen when the
whole surface of the ground would be burned over by the old dried
leaves covering it. Soil thus scorched over, would be sure to yield
abundantly. Next followed the process of log-rolling, or, as it was in
some places called, " logging." The neighbors, having been previously
invited, were present with a full supply of handspikes. These were
strong poles, about six feet long, of proper thickness, and flattened
or tapered at the larger end, in order to its being more easily put
under or between the logs. Logs too large to be taken up by hand and
carried to a heap, were put upon a number of handspikes, and by
one or two men at each end of every handspike, carried to the heap.
Logs too heavy to be carried, were hauled to the heap by a team and log
chain, and rolled up on the pile on skids, handspikes being generally
of sufficecient strength for this purpose. The heaps were then
burned, and the ground was ready for tillage.
An old
settler
briefly describes the
manner of clearing land, as follows: "Where the timber was mostly beech
and sugar-tree, the common way was to grub the spice and other bushes,
and pile them around the large trees, and cut up the old dead logs. All
the trees under 18 or 20 inches in diamteer were then cut down,
and large brush heaps made around all the rest. The brush, when dry,
were burned, scorching the trees some 15 or 20 feet high, and killing
them sooner than if they had been girdled with an ax. Thus most of the
first fields cleared were left with many dead trees. Oak, poplar, and
walnut trees would stand many years; but the beech and sugar maple
would begin to fall about the third year; and the field must be cleared
a second time by taking off the dead timber. After a few years, the
trees were deadened by hacking them round [girdling] before the
land was cleared, and all taken off at once. This was the easier way;
but the first settlers could not wait for the trees to decay when they
cleared their first fields."
Another mode of
clearing, confined
chiefly to the removal of the deadened timber, may be mentioned. Trees
that did not fall were cut down. Instead of chopping their bodies into
pieces, a mode was adopted requiring less strain of muscle. It was
called "niggering." The smaller logs or broken limbs and other rubbish,
were thrown across the fallen trees; and fire was applied to them. Once
a day, or oftener, it would be necessary for a man to revisit his field
to rebuild or renew his fires; or, to use a common phrase, to " right
up my niggers." How this use of that word originated, is mere matter of
conjecture. It has been suggested that, as many of the early
settlers came from states where labor was performed for men by the
power of muscle other than their own, they naturally associated the
agency employed in this process, with the servile labor of the South.
Id some of the states,
deadening or
girdling is not practiced. All the timber is cut down at once, chopped
into logs, and the ground cleared and planted or sown the same year, if
the crop is so soon desired.
We
subjoin the
following from a
letter received from an old settler past fourscore: " The principal
business in those days was the clearing of land, making fences, &c.
Those who hired their land cleared, would pay by the acre for cutting
the timber, taking all that was «a foot or under/ or * eighteen
inches or under,' as the contract might be, and get it ready for
rolling. He that could clear an acre the quickest, and cut and split
the most rails in a day, was accounted the most honorable. Another
test of a man's standing in the estimation of his fellow-men, was the
choice made at log-rollings. It was common to choose two captains, who
would divide the ground containing the logs to be rolled, one taking
the choice of hands, the other the choice of the ground. The men would
then stand in a ring fair to be seen, when the captains would proceed
to choose, turn about; the first chosen was the most honorable; the
last chosen, the reverse."
Fare
of the Early Settlers;
Bread and
other Provisions
Not the
least of the hardships of the
pioneers was the procuring of bread. The first settlers must be
supplied at least one year, sometimes longer, from other sources than
their own lands. Many who settled in the eastern part of this county,
were obliged, for several years, to make a two or three days' journey
to Ohio, going and returning, for their grain and meal. And after they
had raised grain for themselves, they had to get grinding done there,
until mills were built here. Thomas Bulla, already mentioned as a
settler four miles south-east of Richmond,in a "Pioneer Sketch," in the
Richmond Palladium of March 13,1856, says he took a grist of his first
crop of corn to Bruce's mill near Eaton, 0., 12 miles. Having been
badly frost-bitten, it was found unfit for bread, and was fed to his
cow. Having no money to buy with, he went to his father-in-law in Ohio,
and got nine bushels of corn, for which he was to pay when able. He
bought of his brother William 21/2 bushels of wheat which was all he
had
the first year.
Settlers had to pack all their grain
from the settlements in Ohio on horseback, until they raised a supply
at home. Jeremiah Cox, son of
the elder
Jeremiah, gives an account of packing grain from Ohio, in substance as
follows: His father brought some breadstuff with him from the Miami
country. This, with the corn he bought with his land from Woodkirk,
carried him through the first winter. The corn was ground with an iron
hand-mill they had brought with them. It was constructed on the
principle of a coffee-mill, but was much larger, and was propelled by
two cranks; and he says: " It was believed that it never ground the
meal too fine"
The
neighbors
joined the next season
in blazing out a bridle way to Stillwater, O., for the purpose of
packing breadstuff from there on horseback, and Jerry, the son, and one
or two others, made one or two trips in that way. But his father
thought this too slow a way to supply his large family with bread, and
conceived the idea of sending wagons through on the " Quaker trace," as
it was called. Jerry took his father's small four-wheeled wagon; and
the two fore wheels of their large wagon were " rigged up " for his
uncle James Morrisson. Thus equipped, with an ax and three or four
days' provisions, they set out on their journey. After a tedious drive
over weeds, chunks, logs, and saplings, they reached their place of
destination. They procured their lading of good,sound corn; but, to
their great disappointment, they were unable to get it ground without
staying longer than was deemed expedient; and they accordingly started
homeward.
Having
heard that
there is a water
mill at New Lexington, and that there was a road cut out from Dayton to
Eaton by way of New Lexington ; and Cox dreading the grinding of so
much hard corn, by hand, he insisted on getting it ground before they
returned; to which his uncle Morrisson very reluctantly assented. They
traveled from place to place, winding, backing, and turning, to
almost every point of the compass, until they found the looked-for
Dayton road. Traveling along in cheerful mood, they met a man who told
them they presently would come to an old " hurricane," through which
there was only a bridle way, and there was no possible way round. [The
reader perhaps understands, that the word hurricane is
here used to signify a
thick second
growth of small timber, and not the storm itself, by which the earlier
growth had been prostrated.] The hurricane was soon reached, the
saplings standing thick on the ground. They went vigorously to
work, and cut their way through, a half mile or more. It was near
sunset; and soon coming to a house, they put up for the night.
Early the next morning
they were on
their way, reached Nesbit's mill at Lexington, got their corn ground,
and
started for home. But before they had got to Eaton, they sunk into a
slough, which, Cox says, answered the description Bunyan gives of
the " slough of despond." They could extricate themselves only by
unloading their wagons, and carrying their sacks of meal on their backs
through the swamp to firm ground. To do so, Cox took oft' his shoes and
laid them on a log. After a good deal of splashing in the mud, they got
their wagons out; but, like the poor u pilgrim," they were much "
bedaubed with the filth of the slough." They reloaded their wagons and
started on their way. But in the hurry and confusion of the moment, Cox
forgot his shoes, and never heard from them afterward. Without any
further difficulty, they safely reached home with a good supply of
well-ground meal, which was a luxury indeed to the family, after having
been fed for some time on meal none too fine, and from corn not sound.
They had overstaid their time about two days. Many other cases might be
given, showing the difficulty in obtaining this indispensable article
of food.
But
the first
crops of the earliest
settlers, however abundant, gave only partial relief. There were
no mills to grind the grain. Hence the necessity of grinding by hand
power, as in the case mentioned by Cox. Few families, however, it is
presumed, were even thus poorly provided with the means of cracking
their bread corn.
Another way was to
grate the corn. A
grater was made of a piece of tin, sometimes taken from an old worn out
tin bucket or other vessel. It was thickly perforated, bent into a
semi-circular form, and nailed, rough side upward, on a board. The corn
was taken in the ear, and grated before it had become quite dry and
hard.
As
early, however, as
the fall of
1807, Charles Hunt started a mill on the Elkhorn, a mile above its
mouth, which did grinding for the people in the vicinity of Richmond,
until Jeremiah Cox built his mill near the present site of Jackson,
Swaine and Dunn's Woolen Mills, below the National Bridge. This, like
Hunt's, was a tub-mill. The stones were 2J feet in diameter, and ground
2 bushels in an hour. Wm. Bulla built the next mill a short distance
north of Richmond. These mills were covered by planting in the ground
stout poles with forks at the upper ends, in which were laid poles to
support the roof, which was made of split clapboards, after the manner
of covering log cabins. "This," says Jerry Cox, " sheltered the hopper
and the meal trough pretty well, when the wind didn't blow. A few
months after Bulla's mill was built, Cox built one himself where he now
lives, six miles north of Richmond. This he sheltered with a log house
similar to a log cabin, 20 feet square, covered with a cabin roof in
the usual style. In a favorable stage of water, this mill would grind
two bushels of frost-bitten corn in an hour. He judges the three last
mentioned mills to have cost, in the aggregate, about $500.
Corn
was eaten in
various ways. The
earliest mode of baking, (cast iron ware being scarce,) was to put the
dough on a smooth board, two feet long and six or eight inches wide,
placed on the hearth slanting toward the fire. When the upper side was
baked, the bread was turned over for baking the other side. When lard
was plenty, the bread was well shortened, and called johnny-cake. Some
baked in a Dutch oven, when that article could be obtained.
Sometimes the dough was made into lumps, which, when baked, were
called corn-dodgers. Others raised the dough with yeast, and baked it
in a Dutch oven. This was called pone, aud was a decided improvement.
Mush, or hasty-pudding, eaten in milk, was then a common article of
diet, especially for supper. In its green state, corn was boiled in the
ear, and sometimes roasted before the fire. Before there were mills
near to grind the corn, hominy was much used as a substitute for bread.
The corn was soaked in lye made from ashes to loosen the skin, and then
pounded in a wooden mortar with
a wooden pestle till the skin was
peeled off. This was called lye hominy. This mortar is said to have
been a piece of a solid, dry log, in one end of which was burned a
cavity or hollow of sufficient depth to hold the corn.
A
story is told of
an old settler who
had on his farm a small stream with a considerable fall, on which he
placed a water-wheel, to which he attached a contrivance for raising a
heavy piece of timber and dropping it into the mortar holding the corn.
Tradition (not always reliable authority) says this mill one day played
havoc with its owner's sheep. Leaving the mill at work during a short
absence, his sheep, putting their heads into the mortar to eat corn,
were struck on their heads by the pestle, and several of them killed.
Our aged friend Cox,
among the
numerous incidents he has furnished us of "life in the woods," gives
the following "bill of fare " of the settlers. It
differs less in the number than in the kinds and quality of the
articles in the lists on the tables . of our best modern hotels:
"We had our large hominy
and small
hominy, large pone, johnny-cake, hoe-cake, and dodgers, boiled
dumplings, and fried cakes, all made of corn meal. Of meats we had
hog's meat, venison, opossums, raccoons, and squirrels. Of fowls we had
wild turkeys, pheasants, wild pigeons and ducks, all of which were
cooked in divers ways to suit the taste, or in accordance with the
customs of the times. There were in use several kinds of coffee; as,
bread coffee, crust coffee, meal coffee, potato coffee, and, after
wheat was raised, wheat and flour coffee. Those who used the imported
had to pay 33 to 50 cents a pound. In the spring we had many kinds of
wild weeds boiled for greens to eat with our meat. And for
dainties on particular occasions, as weddings, quiltings, house
raisings, and log rollings, we had custards and firmities [boiled
wheat], with milk stirred in and sweetened to taste. With maple sugar,
this was deemed quite a dainty. For tea, we had sassafras, spicewood,
beech leaf, sycamore chips, etc. In the summer and fall we had Irish
potatoes; for fall and winter use, pumpkins and turnips in abundance.
The pumpkins were dried for winter use, by cutting them in rings and
placing them on poles, and
hanging them on
the joist in front of the fireplace.
"My
father
contracted with Ewell
Kendall for several bushels of wheat, the first I knew of being raised
on Whitewater. I do not remember the price paid for it. I was sent
for it, and recollect George Holman's being present and remarking to
Kendall, that he was " a money-making man" This wheat we ground in our
hand-mill, and sifted the flour through a meal sieve of horse hair. Out
of this flour we had many excellent breakfasts."
Corn
was the
principal grain crop of
the settlers. The soil was adapted to its production, and the yield was
abundant. Yet the farmers found one serious difliculty in its
cultivation. Vast injury was done to cornfields by birds and
quadrupeds, both by picking up the seed and taking the grain from the
ear. Farmers, sometimes, unaware of the secret working of these little
depredators, found their planted seed corn nearly all picked up by
crows and squirrels. Blackbirds, in large flocks, would light upon the
ears before the grain was hard, and injure it badly. And in the
fall the squirrels and raccoons would diligently carry on the work of
devastation. Squirrel hunts were frequent, and prizes awarded to those
who killed the greatest number. These hunts were often got up in the
spring to protect the planted cornfields. A subscription paper was
circulated, and subscriptions were taken payable in corn to be
distributed as prizes among the hunters. On the day set for counting
the scalps, the men and boys of the neighborhood would attend, eager to
learn the result. Some of these hunters, it is presumed, were
stimulated no less by the expectation of a ugood time" and the honor of
being the best hunter, than by the prizes offered.
Native
Pastures; Wood Ranges; Hog
Hunts
The
wild grass and
other herbage with
which the woods abounded, made them for several years good pasture
grounds. Horses and cattle were "belled" early in the spring and turned
into the woods. Horses were hunted when wanted to work, and cows at
milking time. The concert of half a score of bells and the songs of an
equal number of the various
feathered tribes, furnished no mean
entertainment to those whose musical tastes had not been formed by the
artistic performances of modern trained melodists. Hunting the
cows was a part of the daily labor of every family; and it was done by
boys if there were in the family any old enough to go without getting
lost, or were able to carry the rifle; for it was not safe to go far
without this weapon of defense. A boy by the name of Wm. Kaines, whose
father had settled a few miles from where Cambridge City now is, was
one of these cow-hunters for the family. Starting as usual, just before
night, and having gone about half a mile, he heard a noise behind him,
and, looking back, saw two wolves on his track. He drew up his rifle
and fired, wheeled, and ran home for help. On returning to the place,
one of the wolves was found dead with a bullet hole in his head.
The
woods were
valuable also for the
meat they furnished. While the clearings were yet small and corn was
scarce, the forest furnished subsistence for hogs, which would often
fatten on beech nuts, hickory nuts, and acorns. But running in the
woods, they soon became wild, and when wanted for meat, were not easily
taken. Some would escape for years, until their tusks had grown to
nearly the length of a man's finger. These old hogs were formidable
resistants to their pursuers. In defending the younger ones of the gang
when seized by a dog, they have been known to spring at the dog, and
rip out his entrails with one flirt of the snout. Men without guns to
defend themselves, have been compelled to climb trees to avoid their
attacks. Neighbors joined at killing time to hunt their hogs with dogs
and guns. Their hope of success depended chiefly upon first shooting
the old ones.
An old
settler,
[H. C. T.,] says he
was one of about a dozen who went on one of these hog-hunting
expeditions. Being told that the hogs were young, and that only dogs
and knives were needed, all went without guns, except one, a weakly
man, who, being unable to run, fortunately, as it proved, took his
rifle. After an hour's hunt, the hogs were discovered and overtaken.
Being stopped by the dogs, they huddled together with their noses out,
ready for a fight. Two were caught by the dogs, and knifed; after
which, an old hog, which was among them, would, when the dogs caught a
hog,
fight them off, until he was shot by the man carrying the rifle. After
a chase of about three miles, the last hog was captured.
The
forest was
also of no small value
as a hunting ground for deer and other game. Deer hunting in the winter
was a common business. Much of the meat of deer was sometimes lost. The
hunter, if alone and far from home, would shoulder the more valuable
part, the hams and the skin, and leave the rest for the wolves, or, as
was sometimes done, hung up to a sapling or a large limb of a tree,
which had perhaps been bent down for the purpose, and which, springing
back, would raise the meat beyond the reach of the wolves. Having
delivered his first load at his cabin,he would return, though perhaps
not the same day, conducted to the spot by his tracks in the snow, and
bring home the remainder. If two hunters were in company, the legs
of a deer would be tied to a pole, and the animal carried away, each
hunter taking an end of the pole on his shoulder.
But
the principal
meat of the early
settlers did not long consist of game. Pork and poultry were soon
raised in abundance. The common fowl furnished both meat and eggs,
Geese, though sometimes eaten, were raised chiefly for their feathers,
with which the settlers replenished their old bed-ticks and filled
their new ones. Doubtless, many still repose on beds made by their
mothers or grandmothers more than half a century ago.
Wild
Animals
The
wild animals
inhabiting this
region at the time of its settlement, were the deer, wolf, bear, wild
cat, fox, otter, porcupine or hedge hog, raccoon, woodchuck or ground
hog, skunk, mink, muskrat, opossum, rabbit, weasel, and squirrel.
Several of these animals furnished the early settlers with meat, but
chiefly the deer. None were much feared except the bear and the wolf.
The former was the most dangerous to meet; the latter the more
destructive to property. The bear is generally ready to attack &
person ; the wolf seldom does so unless impelled by hunger, or in
defense. For many years it was difficult to protect sheep from the
ravages of the wolves. They had to be penned every
night. Many were destroyed even in the day time near
the house. It is the nature of the wolf to seize a sheep by the throat
and suck its blood, and leave the carcase as food for other carnivorous
animals; provided the number of sheep was sufficient thus to satisfy
the hunger of their destroyer. Pigs and calves also were sometimes
victims to these pests of the early settlers. Their howlings in the
night would often keep families awake, and set all the dogs in the
neighborhood to barking. Their yells were often terrific. Says an old
settler: " Suppose six boys having six dogs tied, and whipping them all
at the same time, and you would hear such a noise as two wolves would
make."
To
effect the
destruction of these
animals, the county authorities offered bounties for their scalps. The
accounts of county expenditures for many years show the payment of wolf
bounties. But as wolves hunt in the night, when they can not be shot,
they were more frequently caught in traps, which were made in divers
ways. One kind was the "dead fall." Another was a small pen made of
small logs or heavy poles, about 6 or 7 feet high, and narrowed at the
top. Into this pen a bait was thrown. A wolf could easily enter it at
the top, but was unable to get out. This is the kind in which Robert
Morrisson "trapped" wolves when he lived in the woods above
Middleborough. Jeremiah Cox, Jun., or " Young Jerry," as he was then
familiarly called, having spoken of an unsuccessful search of raccoon
tracks in the woods after a fall of snow, in company with his uncle
Morrisson, and another uncle, John Turner, says : " We returned
homeward by way of uncle Morrisson's wolf traps, which were on the Ohio
side. In one of these traps was a large black wolf. Uncle Morrisson
began to devise ways and means of tying up its mouth and hamstringing
its hind legs, and of taking it home to fight with his dogs, for sport.
* Blood!' said uncle Turner, 'let us kill the ratched varmint,' At the
same instant striking the wolf with the sharp edge of his ax through a
crack of the trap, which bled the animal to death in a few minutes,
thus putting an end to uncle Morrisson's anticipations of sport. But
some time afterward he trapped another, which he succeeded in
capturing, and had the sport.
But he found the wolf
a match for all the dogs that attacked it." The scalps of these two
wolves were probably the ones for which he once drew from the county
treasury $3.
Another kind of
trap was made of
split logs, about 6 feet long, 4 feet wide, and 3 feet high, with a
heavy lid sufficiently raised to let the wolf in. Jumping in to get the
bait, he would spring the triggers; the lid would fall, and confine him
until he could be shot.
Another was the
steel trap, with jaws
a foot or more in length. The clamps were notched like a cross-cut saw;
and there was a stiff spring each side. Attached to the trap was a
chain with hooks, not to fasten it, but to make it difficult for the
wolf to drag it. Caught, as he probably would be, by the fore leg while
trying to paw out the bait, if the trap were made fast, he would gnaw
off his leg and be gone, Ishmael Bunch, an old hunter, who settled
early half a mile east of Whitewater, [lately Hillsboro',] had a trap
of this kind set a few miles east of the Ohio line at a place called
"fallen timber," which was a great resort for wolves. He went with his
son " Dick," a youth of seventeen, to see the trap, but it was gone.
Following the trail, they overtook the wolf on a side hill on the bank
of East Fork. " Now, Dick," said Bunch, " I 'intend to kill that ar
wolf
with my tomahawk." Dick set down his gun and stood to see the wolf
killed. His fore leg was in the trap, his long white teeth shining, and
the dogs shying around. The old man aimed a heavy blow at the wolf's
head. The wolf dodged, and was not touched. But such was the momentum
produced by the stroke, as to whirl the old man round; and he fell
near the wolf. Being snapped at by the wolf, he made such an effort to
spring away, that he soon found himself on "all fours" over the brow of
the hill; and, unable to stop himself, (being a heavy man,) he bounded
along to the bottom. He soon returned, however, more scared than
hurt, and ordered Dick to shoot the wolf. The boy, convulsed with
laughter, found the task a difficult one.
Wolves
were
sometimes accused of
deeds committed by dogs. The following is a case: Dr.
John Thomas, residing where
his grandson Henry W. Thomas
now lives, in the township of Franklin, was called on one morning by a
neighbor who accused his dogs of having killed most of his sheep, and
threatened to shoot them in his presence. The doctor, loath to part
with
his favorite dogs, remonstrated against so hasty redress. But the
neighbor, determined to carry his purpose into effect, was about to
shoot, when the doctor prevailed on him to hold on till he could
ascertain whether or not the dogs had eaten mutton. Having faith in
emetics, he administered one on bread to each of the dogs. The effect
was a copious discharge of mutton and wool. Wm. Addleman, an old
resident of Franklin, confirms the facts above stated, and says he has
seen the same effect produced by suspending the dog by his hind
legs. After a brief struggle with his head down, the contents of the
stomach were discharged.
Among
the native
animals of the
forest which have long since disappeared, was the porcupine, familiarly
called hedge hog. It was nearly as large as a raccoon, had a round
head, and was covered all over with quills from an inch to two inches
long, and as hard and as sharp as a needle. It was a terror to dogs.
Young dogs, not knowing the consequence, would seize the animal, and
get its quills stuck into their mouth 8. It could also, with its tail,
switch the quills into the sides of a dog or other animal. It is the
nature of these quills to work deeper into the flesh, and kill the dogs
if not extracted in season, which was usually done with a nippers.
A dog once stuck with quills, would not touch the porcupine.
Early
Cooking
To witness the various
processes of
cooking in those days, would alike surprise and amuse those who have
grown up since cooking-stoves came into use. The first thing likely to
attract notice was the wide fire-place before described, some eight
feet in the clear. Kettles were hung over the fire, to a strong pole
which was raised so high above the fire as not to be likely to ignite
from heat or sparks, the ends being fastened into the sides of the
chimney. The kettles were suspended on trammels, which were pieces
of iron rods, with hooks at bath ends.
The
uppermost one
extended from the
pole nearly down to the fire; and with one or more short ones the
kettles were brought to their proper height above the fire. Before iron
was plenty, wooden hooks were sometimes used. Being directly above the
kettles, they seldom took fire.
The
long-handled
frying-pan was used
for cooking meat. It was held on the fire by hand; or, to save time,
the handle was sometimes laid across the back of a chair while the cook
was " setting the table." The pan was also used for baking short cakes.
It was placed in a nearly perpendicular position before the fire,
with coals under or behind it to bake the under side. A more convenient
article was a cast-iron, short-handled, three-legged spider, or
skillet, which was set upon coals on the hearth. Its legs were so
adjusted that when, in baking cakes or biscuit, it was turned up before
the fire, it kept its semi-vertical position. Some of these skillets
had iron covers, on which coals were thrown to bake the upper side. But
the best thing for baking bread was the flat-bottomed bake-kettle, of
greater depth, with legs and a closely fitted cast-iron cover, more
commonly called Dutch oven. With coals over and under it, bread and
biscuit were quickly and nicely baked. Turkeys and spare-ribs were
sometimes roasted before the fire, suspended by a string, a dish [being
placed underneath to catch the drippings.
Some
of the
inconveniences of cooking
in open fire-places will be readily imagined. Women's hair was
sometimes singed, their hands were blistered, and their dresses
scorched. But frame houses, with good fire-places of brick or stone,
measurably relieved our mothers and grandmothers. In one of the
jambs was fastened an iron crane which extended over the fire, and
could be drawn forward when kettles were to be put on or taken off. But
the invention of cook-stoves commenced a new era in the mode of
cooking; and none, the most averse to innovation, have indicated a
desire to return to the " old way," which will hereafter be known only
in history.
Early Tillage
Agriculture is a
term hardly
applicable to the farming of early times. The implements then used
would, in this age of improvement, be great curiosities. Specimens on
exhibition at our modern fairs would attract unusual attention. The
plow used was called bar-share plow. The iron part consisted of a bar
of iron about two feet long, and a broad share of iron welded to it. At
the extreme point was a coulter that passed through a beam six or seven
feet long, to which were attached handles of corresponding length. The
mold-board was a wooden one split out of winding timber, or hewed into
a winding shape in order to turn the soil over. The whole length of the
plow, from the fore end of the beam to the ends of the handles, was
eight or ten feet. Newly cleared ground was, with this plow, broken up
with great difficulty. From the tough roots bent forward by the plow
and springing back, the plowman's legs would receive many a hard blow.
Some used on new ground only a shovel-plow, similar in shape and size
to that of the present day, but differing in workmanship.
Sown
seed was "
bushed in " by a
sapling with a bushy top, or by a bundle of brush from a tree top,
dragged, butts forward. As soon, however, as the ground would
admit, the triangular harrow, or drag was used. This instrument
was made of two pieces of timber, (hewed, before there were mills to
saw,) about five inches square, and about six feet long, an end of one
framed into one end of the other, forming an acute angle, and kept
apart by a shorter piece framed into the others near the center; the
instrument in form resembling the letter A. The teeth were of double
the weight of those now used, in order to stand the violent collision
with the roots and stumps over and among which they were to be drawn. A
harrow was sometimes made of a crotched tree, worked down to the proper
size. The idea of a cast-iron plow had not yet entered the brain of the
inventor, Jethro Wood, of Cayuga county, N. Y. The improvements since
made in the plow and the harrow, the invention of cultivators, drills
for sowing and planting, and other labor-saving implements, have wonder-
fully changed the aspect
of farming,
and increased incalculably the power of production.
In
harvesting the
change is most
striking. Before the decay and removal of the stumps permitted the use
of the grain-cradle, the cutting of grain was mostly done with the
sickle, not at all used now for its original purpose. It was then a
staple article of merchandise. In the old day-books and journals of the
early merchants, if they could be found, might be seen the charge, " To
1 Sickle," under the names of scores of customers, followed, in many
cases, by that other charge, " To 1 Gal. Whiskey," an article then
deemed by some as necessary in harvesting as the instrument
itself The cradle, which superseded the sickle, is fast giving
way, indeed, has in some parts of the country already given way, to the
reaper, an instrument then not more likely to be invented than the
photographic art, or the means of hourly communication with the
inhabitants on the opposite side of the globe. Single fields of wheat
of one hundred to five hundred acres each, are not rare in some of the
western states. Let a man imagine an attempt to cut these immense
fields of grain by handfuls with the sickle, and he can not fail to
appreciate the invention of the reaper.
Grain
was threshed
with a flail,
which, in its rudest form, was made of a hickory sapling about two
inches thick, and seven or eight feet long. About two feet and a half
from one end it was roasted in the fire, and at this place it was
bruised or beaten, so as to cause it to bend. With this, grain was
beaten out on the ground, if there was no barn floor. Another way of
making a flail was to tie a stick, two or three feet long and two
inches thick, to one end of a staff of the size and length of a hoe
handle, with a strong cord or leather string. A green hand, with this
instrument, seldom failed of getting his head hit with one end of the
swingel. There were no fanning-mills to separate the grain from the
chaff'. No mill peddler had yet ventured so far west as Whitewater. To
" raise the wind," a linen sheet was taken from the bed, and held at
the corners by two men; and by a semi-rotary motion or swinging of one
side of the sheet, the chaff was driven from the falling grain, the
pure wheat lying in a pile ready to be garnered, or placed under the
bed for safe-keeping, until
there was occasion to take it to mill. The tow-linen sheet was at
length superseded by the fanning-mill. A single machine now receives
the sheaves, and delivers the cleaned grain at the rate of several
hundred bushels a day. A reaper is in use in some of the western states
which carries two binders, and drops along its track the cut grain in
sheaves, bound.
In hay harvesting, also,
improvements
would seem to have reached perfection. A lad of sufficient age to drive
a team, mows from fifty to one hundred acres of meadow in an
ordinary haying season; and the hay is all raked during the same
time by a single hand.
An old
settler,
who has furnished the
writer valuable information on several subjects, thus describes
the method of harvesting and cleaning wheat, supplying some slight
omissions in the description already given :
Wheat
was cut by
hand with
reap-hooks, [sickles,] bound, and put into shocks, and when
sufficiently dried, into stacks. Before the farmer had a good barn
floor, the wheat was threshed on the ground with a flail, a place
having been prepared by beating down the clay with a maul. To
separate it from the chaff, a riddle, [coarse sieve,] about 30 inches
in diameter, was made by bending a wooden hoop 5 or 6 inches wide,
and for a bottom, weaving splints across through holes made with a
gimlet, and fastening them on the outside of the hoop. [Hosea C.
Tillson, of Bethel, has yet in his possession a riddle of this kind
made more than forty years ago.] A tow sheet was taken to make wind.
This was done by two men, each taking an end, and whirling it over
quickly. Another man holding up and shaking the riddle full of wheat in
the chaff, the wind would blow the chaff from the falling wheat. About
ten bushels were thus cleaned in half a day. After barns were built
with floors, wheat was tramped out by horses. When the stubs and the
small stumps had disappeared, cradles and fanning-mills came into
use.
Getting grinding
done, continues our
friend, was for several years attended with difficulty. The settlers in
the northeastern part of the county were dependent upon mills in
the vicinity of where Richmond now is. The mill
afterward built by Jeremiah
Cox, Jun., six miles
north of Richmond, afforded great relief to these northern settlers.
But, like other early and cheaply constructed mills, it could not serve
them in the dry and very cold seasons of the year. It was enclosed in a
log building, and had two runs of stones. Having no elevators, the
miller, when the wheat was ground, had to carry the flour in a sack up
to the bolting chest. This mill was visited from a great distance by
men and boys bringing grain on horseback along the new and winding
paths through the woods.
The
settler above
alluded to also
tells of a hand-mill that was resorted to in dry and cold weather. It
was fixed on a square frame about as high as a table. In the upper
stone, or runner, was a hole in which was put a staff, the upper end of
which passed up through the floor overhead into the loft. Two persons
standing opposite each other and taking hold of the staff, would whirl
the upper stone round; one of them feeding the mill by throwing in
the grain by single handfuls. A few mills run by horse power were
built. A person wanting grinding done, would hitch his own horses to
the mill. The people of that section were at length relieved by the
erection of a steam grist-mill at Newport Falls in 1833. A small mill
had been built on Middle Fork, east of Bethel, in 1829, which did much
grinding when water was plenty.
While
by the
invention of the
cultivator and other labor-saving implements, the power and facility of
producing corn has been greatly increased, in the harvesting there has
been comparatively little improvement. To this operation the
employment of machinery would seem to be impracticable.
Different modes have been practiced here. In the fall, while yet
in a greenish state, the blades were stripped from the stalks, bound in
bundles, and housed or stacked for cattle and sheep in winter.
Sometimes the stalks with the leaves on were topped, that is, cut off
just above the lower end of the ear; and these tops also were saved for
fodder. When the corn was sufficiently dry, the ears were pulled from
the stalks, and hauled into the log barn, or to the side of a rail pen;
the rails having been notched down to make it tight enough to hold the
ears when husked. The cattle were then turned into the field to feed on
the stalks in the winter.
The
husking was
performed by that
ancient, now obsolete, institution called corn-husking, in which the
neighbors, old and young, were invited to participate. The anticipation
of a " good time " secured a general attendance. A good supper, which
several of the " neighbor women " had assisted in preparing, was
usually served at eight or nine o'clock. The " old folks " would then
leave, and in due time the boys would gallant the girls to their
homes. The recreation afforded to the young people on the annual
recurrence of these festive occasions, was as highly enjoyed and
quite as innocent as most of the amusements of the present boasted age
of refinement.
Home
Manufactures
After
a brief
residence at their new
homes, the settlers found themselves in need of new clothing, which
some of them were unable to purchase. Even the few who had money, could
not supply themselves without great difficulty. The inhabitants of
Whitewater were yet shut out from the commercial world. The nearest
market town was Cincinnati; and the only mode of transportation was by
wagons over roads almost impassable most of the year. The settlers were
obliged to supply themselves chiefly by their own hands. Farmers,
even in the older states, manufactured their own cloth, both for summer
and winter wear.
Flax
was at first
raised chiefly for
the lint, for the reason, probably, that the seed would not pay for its
transportation to market. When the seed was about ripe, the flax was
pulled up by the roots, and spread on the ground to rot The rotting is
done by the rains and the dew. It does not impair the strength of the
lint; it only makes the straw brittle, that it may be easily separated
from the lint. In preparing, it for spinning, it passes through the
several processes of breaking, scutching, or swingling, and hackling,
or hatcheling. The part combed out by this last process, is called tow.
It was made into a coarser fabric, for men's shirts and trowsers for
common wear. The warp of this tow cloth was often—perhaps
generally—spun from the fine flax, the filling alone being spun
from the tow. The fine linen was more generally worn
by women, but was sometimes
made into
men's undergarments for Sunday wear.
The spinning exercise is
one which
few of the present generation of our girls have ever enjoyed. The wheel
used for spinning flax was called the "little wheel" to distinguish it
from the "big wheel" used for spinning wool. These "stringed
instruments" furnished the principal music of the family, and were
operated by our mothers and grandmothers with great skill, attained
without expense, and by far less practice, than is necessary for our
modern dames to acquire a skillful use of their elegant and costly
instruments. They were indispensable household articles in those days;
and, fortunately, a maker of them was among the early settlers. This
wheelwright, in the person of Daniel Trimble, was regarded as a common
benefactor to the inhabitants for many miles round. He was a son-in-law
of John Smith. A few years later came Wm. Williams, a man of the same
craft, and equally useful, perhaps more so; for, being an esteemed
preacher of the society of Friends, after six days' labor in supplying
their temporal wants, he ministered the next day to their spiritual
needs.
The
loom was not
less necessary than
the wheel. Not every house, however, in which spinning was done, had a
loom. But there were always some who, besides doing their own weaving,
did some also for those who could not do it for themselves.
Woolen
cloth also
was a household
manufacture. Settlers having succeeded in raising some sheep despite
the devouring wolves, they commenced making cloth. The shearing of
sheep was attended with trouble and delay, as that indispensable
article, sheep-shears, was not owned by every farmer. One sometimes
performed the circuit of a neighborhood. There being at first no
carding machines, wool was carded and made into short rolls with
hand-cards. These rolls were spun on the "big wheel," which may still
be seen in the houses of some of the old settlers, being occasionally
used for spinning and twisting stocking yarn. It was turned with the
hand, and with such velocity as to give it sufficient momentum to
enable the nimble mother, by her backward step, to draw out and twist
her
thread of nearly the length of the cabin. Woolen cloth was woven on the
loom used for weaving linen. A common article made was linsey, also
called linsey-woolsey, of which the warp or chain was linen, and the
filling woolen.
Several years
elapsed before fulled
cloth was made, there being no fulling mills and cloth-dressing
establishments. Flannel, all wool, was also made, and worn by the
mothers and daughters. Flannel for women's wear, after dye-stuffs were
to be had, was dyed such color as the.wearers fancied. It was sometimes
a plaid made of yarn of various colors, home-dyed. To improve their
appearance, these flannels were sent to a cloth-dressing mill for a
slight dressing, which was finished by a powerful pressing between
large sheets of smooth pasteboard, to give it a glossy surface.
Long
after the
country had passed its
pioneer state, the farmers' houses continued to be miniature linen and
woolen factories, in which the labor was chiefly performed by the wife
and mother until the daughters were able to assist. Where there was
more spinning to be done than the wife could do in addition to her
housework, and where the daughters were too young to help, spinsters
were employed to come into families to spin flax and tow in the winter,
and wool in the summer. These itinerant spinsters received a "York
shilling" [12 1/2 cents] a day—the day's work ending at early bed-time.
Some will be surprised when told that many of these women had money to
show at the year's end. It was to some extent a custom to count a
certain number of "cuts" of yarn as a day's work. This had a tendency
to accelerate the motion of the wheel, and lessen the hours of labor.
These small earnings would not go far toward clothing Whitewater
farmers' daughters of the present generation. Then young women were
dressed in cloth of their own manufacture, except the calico for the
summer Sunday dress, six yards being a full pattern for a woman of
ordinary size.
The
linen made in
families was not
all worn in its brown or natural color. That which was intended for
certain uses was bleached. It was spread on the grass, wet
by sprinkling
several times a day, and
dried in
sunshine. By this alternate wetting and drying, it was soon
bleached to a perfect white.
Much
dyeing, too,
as has been already
intimated, was done in the family. Dye-woods and dye-stuffs formed no
small portion of a country merchant's stock. Barrels of chipped
Nicaragua, log-wood, and other woods, and kegs of madder, alum,
copperas, vitriol, indigo, etc., constituted a large part of teamsters'
loading for the merchants. Many, doubtless, remember the old dye-tub
standing in the chimney corner, covered with a board, and used as a
seat for children when chairs were wanted for visitors, or when new
supplies of furniture failed to keep pace with the increase of the
family. Mr. Goodrich, [Peter Parley,] describing early life in his
native town in Connecticut, speaks of this " institution of the
dye-tub," as having, "when the night had waned, and the family had
retired, frequently become the anxious seat of the lover, who was
permitted to carry on his courtship, the object of his addresses
sitting demurely in the opposite corner." We have no authority for
saying that it was ever used here on such occasions.
Nearly
all the
cloth worn was "
home-made." Rarely was a farmer or his son seen in a coat made of any
other. If, occasionally, a young man appeared in a suit of "boughten"
cloth, he was an object of envy to his rustic associates; or he was
suspected of having got it for a particular occasion which occurs in
the life of nearly every man. Few, except merchants, lawyers, doctors,
and some village mechanics, wore cloth that had not passed through the
hands of the country cloth-dresser. Hence merchants kept very small
stocks of broadcloth. Cloths of the finer qualities they sometimes
bought in small pieces, containing a certain number of patterns, one,
two, or three, to avoid loss on remnants.
There
were also
tailoresses who came
into families to make up men's and boys' winter clothing. The cutting
was mostly done by the village tailor, if there was a village near. "
Bad fits," which were not uncommon, were generally charged to the
cutter. Hence the custom of tailors, when inserting in their
advertisements, "Cutting done on short notice, and warranted to fit,"
to append the very
prudent proviso, " if properly made up." These seamstresses charged
twenty-five cents a day for their work. This was thought by some
employers rather exorbitant, as the common price of help at
housework was but one-half as much.
The
need of
leather soon became
pressing. The shoes brought in by the settlers were worn out. Large
boys and girls had to go barefoot the greater part of the year, even to
meeting. Tanneries of limited capacity were established. Some, having
waited impatiently for the tanners to turn out leather, set up for
themselves, and tanned the hides of their slaughtered cattle in a
trough. Others substituted for shoes the cheaper article of moccasins,
similar to those worn by the Indians. Skins of various kinds of animals
were tanned for this purpose. Moccasins were sometimes sewed with
leather thongs. An early settler yet living says, that in the days of
his boyhood he tanned squirrel skins in a sugar trough, and made
moccasins for himself; and he thought himself a little above his
companions when he wore them to Whitewater meeting. Shoes for both feet
were made on one last. " Rights and lefts" were unknown in those days.
Boots were little worn by men, except in the winter season.
We
have spoken of
houses as linen and
woolen factories. Some were also shoe-shops. In some parts of the
country there was, in almost every neighborhood, a circulating
shoemaker, who made his annual autumnal circuit with his " kit."
The children had a happy time during his sojourn, which lasted one,
two, or more weeks, according to the number of feet to be shod. This
custom, it is believed, never prevailed so generally here as in some
other places. Many made shoes for themselves and their families. Men's
boots and shoes were usually made of coarse leather, commonly called
cowhide. Occasionally a young man attained the enviable
distinction of appearing in a pair of calf-skin boots made by a
regular workman. In this department of dress, as in others, in respect
to style and expense, the past and the present exhibit a
remarkable contrast.
We
only add, a
marked and general
revolution in household labor has been effected since the days of
our mothers and grandmothers.
The substitution of
cotton for flax, and of the various kinds of labor-saving machinery for
hand-cards and family spinning-wheels and looms, has vastly lightened
the labor of women. One of the results of these improvements is the
opportunity they afford for mental and intellectual culture. That the
mass of American women duly improve these opportunities will hardly be
affirmed.
In
confirmation of
what has been said
in relation to the destitution of early settlers, and of the
difficulty of obtaining comfortable clothing, an old settler in a
northern township of this county writes: " I remember when I got the
first pair of boots I ever had. I got them to travel in when I went
abroad to preach. I was called proud because I had boots. Women
also who wore checked cotton dresses every day, were called proud. We
then had no idea how people would dress as soon as they were able. On
account of the difficulty of protecting sheep from the wolves, few were
kept; and many families were unable to supply themselves with
woolen clothes. For men's and boys' winter clothing, recourse was had
to tanned and dressed deer-skins. When grown stiff by getting wet, they
were limbered by whipping them on a log or a post. Some wore coats made
of undressed skins."
From
another
northern township an old
settler writes: "I have frequently seen families go to meeting
barefoot. I have' often heard it said of a preacher on the circuit when
this was a wilderness, that the people went to hear their new
preachers on a week day. Being neatly dressed, and wearing a pair of
fine boots, they thought him too much of a fop to preach. After he had
closed his sermon, a laboring man who had left his field and come to
meeting barefoot, got up and gave a warm and stirring exhortation,
under the effects of which a good old brother shouted, 'Lord! send us
more barefooted preachers.'"
It is
presumed
this anecdote, kindly
furnished by our friend, was intended simply as an illustration of the
destitute condition and some of the characteristics of the early
settlers and not at all as justifying the vulgar prejudices indulged by
some in those days against persons better dressed than
themselves. Happily the days have gone by when "good
clothes"
are regarded by any as a
badge of
dishonor, or as evidence of one's unfitness for any position or
calling. Many a poor, perhaps shoeless pioneer has, by hard labor
and proper economy, become a "lord of the soil," and, if yet living, is
himself one of that class upon whom he once looked with envy or
distrust.